#why are you bringing out my cake enthusiast this early in the morning

[chappellrroan]

Your fav cake?

I am very basic bitch so i mostly crave for black forest or red velvet BUT the vanilla fruit ones are so damn good so these three are my top

[pucksandpower]

I have an idea for the Grid Kiiiiiids. They all try to start teaching their sister to drive a kart 🥹 up to you how old she is when they start lol but you know Max and Charles especially want that girl in a kart ASAP

Grid Kids: Little Racer

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: the grid kids can’t wait to take their sister karting

Series Masterlist

Lando looks particularly proud as he rubs his hands together. “Alright, we got the best present for her. Trust us, she’s going to love it!”

George nods enthusiastically, “It’s honestly the best thing ever. A bit of an investment for her future, you know?”

Max, trying to hide a grin, chips in, “And it’ll give her a head start in racing.”

You raise an eyebrow suspiciously, “What did you boys do?”

Charles can barely contain his excitement. “Just open the garage and see!”

You slowly make your way to the garage with growing trepidation, the grid kids practically bouncing on their feet behind you. When you open the door, there, in all its glory, sits a shiny new kart, complete with racing stripes and a custom-made helmet with your daughter’s initials.

Your jaw drops. “She’s one! She can barely even walk! What is she going to do with a kart?”

Lance, looking a little defensive, offers up ideas, “Well, she can ... sit in it? Look cute? Take photos for Instagram?”

George chimes in, “It’s never too early to get them started, right? I mean, she’s got the genes for it.”

“Think of it as a ... decorative statement piece for now? Then, in a few years, she can actually use it,” Mick suggests.

You can’t help but chuckle at their over-the-top enthusiasm. “You guys ... she’ll probably be more interested in the cardboard box it came in than the actual kart itself right now.”

Lando pouts, “Well, when you put it like that ...”

You laugh, “Thank you. It’s a very thoughtful gift. But we’re going to have to save it for when she’s a bit older.”

Max smirks, “By a bit older, you mean like five, right?”

You shake your head, exasperated by your impressively stubborn sons but always grateful for how much they love their sister. “We’ll see.”

***

Four years later, the sound of shattering glass pierces the quiet night. In an instant, you’re on your feet, grabbing a baseball bat from the corner of your room. Sebastian, equally alarmed, snatches up a table lamp from his nightstand, wielding it like some sort of medieval weapon.

As you both stealthily approach the main room, you hear muffled whispers.

“Why did you have to step on the vase, Max!” George hisses.

“It was dark! And Lando pushed me,” Max retorts defensively.

Lando protests, “Did not!”

You round the corner, brandishing your bat and glaring at the intruders. “What are you doing in here?”

The grid kids freeze like deer caught in headlights, Lando holding a giant Happy 5th Birthday balloon, Charles cradling a shiny new helmet, and Mick holding a small cake with five candles.

Max tries to salvage the situation with a sheepish grin, “Well, you did say she could start karting when she turned five. We just wanted to be the first to take her.”

Lance points to the clock on the wall that now reads 12:03 AM, “Technically, she’s five now.”

You sigh, lowering your bat, a smile slowly forming. “You guys are ridiculous.”

Sebastian chuckles as he puts the lamp down, “At least wait till morning. And next time, maybe use the door? You all have keys for a reason.”

Charles grins brightly, “Where’s the fun in that?”

Lando glances at the broken vase and nudges a shard of ceramic with his toe. “Sorry about that. We’ll get you a new one.”

You shake your head with a laugh. “Just ... go home. We’ll see you at a more reasonable hour.”

Mick winks with a cheeky smile, “How about 7 AM? Sounds reasonable to me.”

You groan, ushering them out. “Go, before I change my mind about the karting!”

As the door closes behind them, you and Sebastian share a laugh. The grid kids never fail to bring some chaos into your lives.

***

The morning sun is just starting to peek through the curtains when you hear the soft hum of engines outside your window. Rubbing your eyes, you sit up and glance at the clock. 6:57 AM. “Seriously?” You mutter under your breath.

The doorbell rings and the soft hum now sounds suspiciously like the familiar excited murmurs of multiple voices.

You throw on a robe and head downstairs, opening the door to find the grid kids, all in their race suits, clustered on your front porch. Behind them, a trailer holds the tiny kart, polished to a shine and adorned with a large bow.

Max declares, “Told you we’d be back!”

Charles holds out a tray of coffee, “We brought reinforcements.”

George steps forward, a picnic basket in hand. “And breakfast! We figured that after all the excitement, you might be hungry.”

Lando bounces like a hyperactive puppy. “So, is she ready? We’ve got the whole day planned out!”

Sebastian, now also at the door in his pajamas, chuckles, “Let the poor girl wake up first.”

Mick is holding a small helmet and gloves. “We’ve got everything she needs.”

“We even have a little race suit for her.” Lance shows off the preschooler-sized suit, complete with the German flag and her name. “We got it customized and everything!”

You can’t help but join in on their enthusiasm. “Alright, alright. Just give us a minute to get her up and ready.”

The grid kids cheer, high-fiving each other.

As you head back inside, Sebastian wraps an arm around your shoulders. “You know, for a group of the most elite drivers in the world, they sure get excited about kiddie karting.”

You smile back, “That’s what makes it all the more special.”

***

You tiptoe into your daughter’s room, finding her sprawled out on the bed among a sea of stuffed animals. Sebastian follows closely behind, his excitement barely contained.

“You do the honors,” you whisper, motioning to the tiny alarm clock on her nightstand.

Sebastian nudges the clock and it lets out a soft rendition of a race car engine revving. Your daughter stirs, her little eyes slowly blinking open.

“Vroom vroom,” she murmurs drowsily, pushing herself up with a yawn.

“Morning, sunshine,” you greet, brushing a stray hair from her face. “Ready for your big day?”

She beams, “Karting day?”

Sebastian chuckles, “That’s right! And you’ve got a whole pit crew waiting for you downstairs.”

Her eyes widen in excitement, “Brothers are here?”

You nod, “Bright and early. They couldn’t wait.”

She practically jumps out of bed, “Let’s go! Let’s go! Let’s go!”

Downstairs, the grid kids are in a frenzy of activity, making last-minute checks on the kart, packing snacks, and discussing strategies.

“You sure she doesn’t need a quick racing line tutorial?” Lando asks, pointing at some scribbles on a whiteboard.

Max rolls his eyes, “She’s five, mate.”

“Exactly. The perfect age to start,” Lando retorts.

Your daughter giggles as Charles lifts her onto his shoulders, “Look at you, future world champ!”

George hands her a small helmet, “Safety first!”

She tries it on and it slips down half of her head.

“Maybe we’ll adjust that,” Mick chuckles, helping to resize the straps.

Once everything is packed and ready, the convoy sets off for the track. Your daughter, sandwiched between Lando and George, is treated to a hilariously exaggerated commentary of their drive.

“Watch that apex! Oh no, a dramatic overtake by that ... minivan?” Lando narrates, making your daughter giggle uncontrollably.

At the track, the grid kids swarm around, setting up the kart, unloading equipment, and securing the area.

Lance kneels in front of your daughter. “Now, remember, it’s all about having fun, okay? But also ... don’t crash.”

She giggles, “Okay, Lancey.”

Charles takes her hand, leading her to the kart. “Ready to hop in?”

She nods eagerly, and with a little help, she’s seated and ready.

With the helmet securely in place and the engine purring softly, she looks up at you and Sebastian with big, excited eyes.

“Remember, slow and steady,” you call out, giving her a thumbs-up.

She revs the engine, and under the watchful eyes of her brothers, begins to kart for the first time.

As she makes her way around the track, the grid kids cheer raucously and even get a bit teary-eyed. The sight of the little kart zooming around, driven by your fearless daughter, is a memory none of you will forget.

When she finally finishes her laps and the engine dies down, the grid kids rush over, lifting her into the air in celebration.

Lando, panting from excitement as if he were the one driving, declares, “Best. Day. Ever!”

Your daughter is grinning from ear to ear. “Can we do it again tomorrow?”

Sebastian pulls you close as you watch your children make plans to kart together soon. “Looks like we’ve got another racer in the family.”

Your heart melts when you see the look of pure joy on your daughter’s face as she’s surrounded by her brothers. “Formula 1 better watch out.”

[moonlitmeeks]

༄ dating james potter headcanons

pairing; james potter x gn!reader

warnings; brief food and alcohol mentions

request; no

a/n; okay i know i have a bunch of requests already but.. i had no marauders requests so i took matters into my own hands to get some stuff onto my masterlist because im so fun and sexy /j hopefully you like these though besties <3

james potter is the most loving and enthusiastic boyfriend possibly ever

seriously, he's so full on it's actually impressive

but it never gets annoying or overwhelming, no. it's always super endearing

you never feel unloved with him

super big on forehead or temple kisses; he just thinks they're super cute and convey his love for you extremely well

if you ever want to calm him down, press a kiss to his knuckles or cheek - it works like a charm every time

james' hair is extremely unruly - we all know this - so if you run your hands through it in an attempt to detangle it, he will melt on the spot

things that also make james melt on the spot include;

falling asleep on his shoulder

wearing his quidditch jersey, especially in the stands of his games if he has a spare

bringing him dinner if quidditch practice runs particularly late

just anything about you, really

he likes to have an arm around your shoulder when you walk down the corridors, or your hand in his

if you aren't too comfortable with pda, he's fine with linking pinkies or a soft kiss to the back of your hand every now and again

at the end of the day, he wants you to be as happy as possible

james constantly pushes up his glasses with his middle finger, so often in fact he does this even when he isn't wearing his glasses as a reflex

it just looks like he's flipping everyone off unprompted

you and sirius tease him a lot for this and stick your own middle finger up at him in return

it confuses him for at least a whole minute until he realises what he's done

"you've got to stop doing that, 's not fair" "all's fair in love and war, james"

he can get a little carried away at parties - especially if gryffindor wins the quidditch cup - but he'll sober up in an instance if you need him to

you're too tired/drunk and want to go to bed? suddenly he's stone cold sober and carrying you up the stairs to his dorm

he loves dancing with you though, and will try to keep you close to him all night to ensure you're safe and having fun

you'll twirl each other around, bounce around, fling your limbs in all directions, anything

james isn't the best dancer, okay

you are one of the only people who can get james to study

he'll decline going to the library with remus, but as soon as you ask him if he wants to go?

he's grabbing his books and rushing after you without a second thought

if you're the one who's against studying however, he goes full on mother mode

drags you to the library and insists you do your homework so you don't get a detention

speaking of - this boy is no stranger to detention, and definitely no stranger to sneaking you in whenever he can because he 'gets bored'

one time you get caught and mcgonagall simply can't understand why you willingly brought yourself to detention

wakes you up by peppering kisses all over your face, ignoring your complaints and protests

but if you try to wake him up? good luck

he'll wrap his arms around your waist and pull you into bed with him

he always insists you don't have to come to his early morning quidditch practices, but he's secretly over the moon when you drag yourself out of bed for them

goes all out for your birthday

i'm talking presents, a cake he somehow managed to get, making the whole great hall sing happy birthday to you at breakfast, and a small party/gathering of all of your friends

any chance he can take to show you he loves you, he will

james potter best boyfriend thank you <3

i luv this boy so much,, i just wanted to write some things for him okay, forgive me if they aren't the best/in character <3

james potter taglist; @thesilverskull @mendesxruel @lilgayn00dle @caffeineconstellations

marauders era masterlist <3

[wri0thesley]

Nat... 👉👈 since requests are open can I please request some Gojo fluff? If you need a little inspo maybe like, reader and him meet after they were abroad for a mission or something? I'm in love with this funky man and I just wanna give him kiths

sweet tooth - gojo x reader, sfw, 2.5k

the early bird catches the worm. or the cake, you guess.

(just a lot of talking about food tbh . . . i dont get to write pure sfw fluff much, thank u for letting me indulge in my jjk brainrot NFJVND. gn reader! )

You know as well as anyone how little free time a jujutsu sorcerer has. You’ve spent most of your past few years rushing around from place to place, calling it a good night’s rest when you manage to fall amongst your coverings before the clock strikes three in the morning. You think this probably has to go double for somebody in such a constant state of being needed as Gojo – but still, he’d shown up outside your room this morning, bright and early, and said; “We’re going out!”

He hadn’t mentioned that you were still clad in pyjamas, your hair still a mess about your face, eyes still sleep and shadowed. You had jumped out of bed at the knock, of course – you’re used to being needed at the drop of a hat – but there is nothing at all in the way Gojo is looking at you to suggest there’s any kind of danger brewing.

He got in last night at the same time as you, after an exorcism had dragged on longer than expected – you know this. So how is his skin still glowing like moonlight, his voice still so bright, his hair still falling over his blindfold in that effortless perfectly-styled-without-being-styled way?

If he’s slept, he’s gotten the same hour and fifteen minutes you’ve gotten.

“Not even a warning?” You sigh, stifling a yawn. “I haven’t had time to clean my weapons or anything--”

“Woah!” Gojo’s grin doesn’t fade, but he holds up his hands as if he’s trying to avoid a savage attack. “Just you and me. No curses, promise. You won’t be needing those.” He cocks his head to the side. “Unless you wanna try and take me. I think you’d lose!”

Your brow furrows. You know you’d lose, and so does he.

“Have you seen the time?” You ask him, instead. You don’t question why or how he’d gotten into the hallway to stand like this outside of the room you’re renting in Tokyo for a while. You’ve learnt after knowing him for a while that what Gojo wants, he gets – besides. If he’d sweet-talked your landlady into letting him in, you couldn’t blame her for falling for his charms.

He sticks his head into your room and turns his face towards the clock on the wall, ticking merrily away, mocking you. You had hoped, after last night, the next time you saw a clock the hour hand would be well past twelve again. He pulls back.

“Now I have.”

“. . . aren’t you tired?”

Gojo shrugs, maddeningly. Half of what he does is irritating to the highest degree – the other half makes your stomach do strange somersaults that you try and push away. Getting a crush on Gojo Satoru is just going to lead to disaster. Although at this point, you have to admit to yourself that it’s more a case of ‘having a crush’ – there’s not much denying it, when he twinkles at you like this.

“You’ve gotten a good hour of beauty sleep,” he chirps. “Not that you need it. Let me take you out!”

You’re still focussing on the compliment, slipped into his words as if it’s as simple as breathing, when he enters your room full-on and is opening your wardrobe.

“H-hey,” you say, weakly. He’s rifling through the rack without a care in the world. “I—I can dress myself--”

“It’s quicker if I do it,” he replies, pulling out one of your favourite shirts. “Here, catch--!” Your reflexes allow you to not make a fool of yourself in front of him. “The colour of that one’s pretty! It’ll look nice on you.”

You’ve had more clothes piled into your arms before you can blink. You guess that Gojo must know his way around clothes – you’ve seen some of the brands and price tags of things he wears – but you can’t help but be a little flabbergasted by just how casual he is about everything. Maybe it’s the fact that your brain is still short-circuiting after being woken up earlier than you were expecting.

He finishes and walks over to you.

“I’ll wait outside.”

“W-what a gentleman,” you manage, and he throws his head back and laughs, and the laugh feels like it lodges warm in your chest. “After waking me up, bursting into my bedroom--”

“I’ll pay for everything,” he promises. He saunters out of your room, pulling the door closed behind him, calling; “I’ll make it up to you, promise!”

You stand there for a few more moments, still struggling to process the whirlwind that is Gojo’s presence in your life – half joking, half serious, half making you think that maybe you stand a chance, when he calls through the door;

“I can’t hear you moving!”

You jump. You wriggle out of your nightwear, your cheeks heating up, as you snap back;

“You said you were going to wait out there, not that you were going to press your ear to it and listen like some kind of stalker--!”

–

You stare in confusion at the fancy window in front of you, decorated with swirling cursive in gold. From outside, you can see into the establishment – the white scrollwork chairs, the cake stands, the menus standing up in their pale white leather covers. The early morning sunlight from outside is reflecting off a perfectly organised display case teeming with tiny little perfectly formed cakes.

“If you were craving something sweet,” you say, eventually, “surely there was an easier way to get it than this.”

Gojo grabs your arm cheerfully, pulling you towards the entrance of the patisserie.

“Well, I got the first sweet thing I was craving,” he ticks it off with his other hand. “But then I had one of my patented brainwaves.” He elbows you. “Put them both together!”

“I’m not feeling very sweet after you interrupted my sleep,” you mumble, but you know that there’s no real bite in your words. You hope Gojo doesn’t notice the reaction that you have – you know he’d never let it go. You often don’t know how to respond to his flirting – he has a reputation, after all, and you are just . . . you.

“We had to get here early, anyway,” he says, as he stands before the counter. The man in the apron and chef hat behind it recognises him immediately, lighting up – you wonder how much money Gojo spends on expensive patisserie. Everyone knows he has a sweet tooth. “They sell out of some of the best stuff well before ten!”

Gojo knows exactly what he’s doing as he points out various desserts from the display case, the man falling over himself to get the – frankly absurd amount of sweets – carefully packaged up for him. You’re not surprised, knowing Gojo, about the cute animal-shaped cakes that he chooses, the smiling bears and cats with ears made of sliced strawberries. You’re a little more surprised by all of the fancier pieces he chooses that you don’t recognise, but you don’t have much time for dwelling on it.

Spoils in hand, you peer further into the establishment to choose a table.

“Nah, don’t worry about that,” Gojo says cheerfully. “We’ll find somewhere outside to sit. It’s such a nice morning!”

You don’t miss the grin he shoots you as he says ‘morning’, the sidelong tip of his head as if he’s waiting to see if you’ll scold him again for interrupting your sleep. You do no such thing, content to be pulled along behind him again as he goes off in search of a place to enjoy his spoils.

People just tend to be pulled along by Gojo’s magnetism, you’ve discovered – and you are, hopelessly, no different.

He finds a quiet bench in a shady corner of one of the local parks; the only other people going past occasional elderly, walking their little dogs. He pats the wooden frame of the bench next to him, smiling.

“You’re not going to make me eat all of this by myself, huh?”

“It’s enough for eight people,” you say, sighing and resigning yourself to your fate as you take the place. He’s lucky you have a sweet tooth too; if he’d brought someone else, they’d probably be shirking back in horror at all the sugar. “You could probably eat it by yourself anyway.”

He pouts.

“I want to share it with you,” he says, cajoling – his fingers hover over one of the smaller cakes, a perfect bite-sized morsel. You try not to think about the elegant lines of his fingers and the power behind them as he plucks it up and offers it to you. “This one’s really good.”

You bring up your hand to take the sweet from him, but he laughs as your fingers bounce away from him, not quite able to get a purchase.

“Let me feed you,” he says to you, and blood rushes to your face all over again.

“I—I can feed myself,” you say, swallowing thickly. Gojo’s smile, on full, sculpted lips, makes butterflies crash into one another in the pit of your stomach.

He brings the treat to your mouth and he’s right, it does look really good. It’s a neat little roll cake, small in Gojo’s fingers, with the green colouring so many sweets you’ve eaten in Japan have been – you hope it’s not matcha, knowing the flavour will surprise you and Gojo will probably laugh, but you open your mouth in defeat and let Gojo pop it in there. His fingers linger a little too long against your lips, his expression fluttering so quickly you don’t quite catch it.

If you didn’t know better . . . you’d say that he had just fought back a blush.

“Is it good?” He asks, and his voice sounds a little strangled. You bite down on the cake, the juice of the strawberries coating your tongue – it is matcha, but the flavour is offset by the sweetness of the vanilla and fruits, and you’re glad about it. You nod enthusiastically, and he laughs.

“I told you!” He taps your cheek. “I know what I’m talking about!”

“You’re so smug,” you tell him, unable to hold back the laughter that’s bubbling out of you. Alright, maybe he woke you up too early and maybe he’s dragged you outside and maybe he’s been haunting your daydreams for months now, but . . . you think he means well. And you can’t deny that the sun is shining and the cakes are really delicious.

“If you were me,” he says, stretching out his arms over the back of the bench, “you would be smug too.” You shake your head at him, but he has a satisfied smile on his face. “Feed me one!”

“Are you going to let me?” You ask. “Or are you just going to bounce it away with your Infinity to make fun of me?”

You hover over the selection yourself, considering what to choose for him. In the end, you go for one of the mini slices of mille crepe cake, reasoning with yourself that even if it’s unusual to be eating so much cake this early, at least crepes are a traditional breakfast. Gojo obediently opens his mouth wider as you lift the slice.

You falter.

“You really want me to feed you?” You ask him, unsure. He laughs, grabbing ahold of your wrist – you almost start as he takes a bite from the treat, his lips tantalisingly close to your fingers. Another bite, and the cake is gone (you’ve never seen slices of mille crepe so small – but then again, judging by the eye-watering amount Gojo paid for his spoils, you’d never be able to afford to buy from a place like that).

“Mm,” he smacks his lips together. “It’s good.”

You swallow, noticing that there’s a smear of the cream between layers at the corner of his mouth. Gojo notices you staring, and quirks his lips into a smirk. “You’re staring,” he says. “I know I’m gorgeous, but--”

“You’ve got . . .” You say, awkward, motioning to his face. Somehow, it feels too intimate to lean forward and dab it away yourself – he’d asked you to feed him, after all. If you did it of your own accord. . .

“Huh? Oh,” He moves one of the arms casually draped over the bench to his face, and you think he is going to wipe it away – but instead, he hooks his thumb under his blindfold, pushing it up casually so the light hits the swirling colours in his eyes.

You’ve seen them before, of course – you’ve seen Gojo at work, after all – but they’re still a surprise, a bright moment of swirling starshine dropped on you when you’re least expecting it. Your stomach does that flip-flop again, the one that you try so hard to ignore – but when he’s looking at you like that, curious and smug all at once, you don’t really know how to handle it.

You’re glad you’re in a secluded spot. There’s nobody to see the embarrassing display of you not quite knowing what to do with yourself.

“You can get it,” he says to you. “I don’t mind.”

“I—”

“Look.” His other hand rises, cups your face, thumb ghosting across the same spot on your cheek that he’d tapped earlier. “I left icing sugar on your face. I’ll get that, and then we’ll be even.”

(Did he do that on purpose, you wonder? You wouldn’t be surprised.)

Your hand is trembling as you reach for the cream. You try and force your fingers to be still as you lean in closer to him, eyes concentrated, as you wipe the little splotch of cream from his mouth. You’re so close you can see galaxies in his eyes, the fan of white lashes, the way that his throat bobs when he swallows as if he’s nervous--

Nervous? Gojo? That can’t be true.

“I got it,” you breathe, though you don’t move. Your faces are so close together. You could lean forward, just a bit, and meet his lips with your own. Gojo’s eyes stay trained on you, not faltering in the least. His thumb is still on your cheek. Your own finger hasn’t moved from the corner of his mouth.

“Wanna know what it tastes like?” Is that a falter, in his voice? You’re stuttering all over the place, but Gojo--

“I’m not gonna put that in my mouth after it’s been on your face,” you tell him, without moving. Your heart is beating ten to the dozen. Gojo’s eyes crinkle at the corners.

“That’s not what I meant,” he says – and he breaks the distance himself, and suddenly he is kissing you. The hand on your cheek cupping your face into his, the other hand going about your waist, holding you tightly against him like he’s been wanting to do it since the moment he woke you up that morning.

(The mille crepe cake is delicious, you find out, from the lingering taste on his lips. Next time you two go there in the early morning rush, Gojo buys two slices.)

[samstree]

and the wolf was nowhere to be found (2/3)

Jaskier pays the price of his lies. With blood and tears and a few broken hearts.

(4.3k, lying spell/potion, cursed jaskier, blood and injury, miscommunication, mutual pining)

Previous | Read on AO3

The reverse trope series: [1] [2] [3] [4]. 

Jaskier wakes with a crick in his neck and an aching heart.

He goes through the motion of packing, their morning routine too familiar to distract him from the heavy guilt in his chest. Jaskier wonders if Geralt is actively avoiding him—the way his back is turned at every chance can’t be a coincidence.

The only time he so much as spares a glance is when Jaskier puts the lemon cake in their rations bag, wrapped perfectly and untouched. Geralt stills for a split second, his jaw clenched.

Jaskier wants to brush it off.

Finding an excuse is the first instinct he has, thinking of a lie as to why he didn’t eat something he’s been drooling over for ages, and erase that crestfallen look on Geralt’s face, the one that is breaking his heart.

Because he can’t exactly tell the truth, which is that he’s more likely to be sick if he ate it. Another lie, however, would turn his stomach even more.

Jaskier remains silent.

Even Roach is judging him as they walk out of the stable. Jaskier bears her side eyes and annoyed headbutt without putting up a fight. The mare is too perceptive to miss the tension in the air, and her protectiveness is more than justified. She’s a smart girl. Of course, she knows Jaskier is one making her broody witcher brood even harder.

She tries to bite his doublet again, and it’s Geralt who stops her with a soothing hand down his mane, murmuring confused questions into her ear. Sweet, kind Geralt, who has been rejected by Jaskier so many times for no reason in the past few days, is still trying to defend him.

Jaskier needs to make it right.

“Geralt, look—”

“Master Jaskier!”

Someone in the distance rudely interrupts Jaskier’s nervous attempt. He turns by instinct and watches a boy in lilac doublet jog up to them. He’s so young, no older than twenty, still with that joviality and naïvety in his features. The way his matching doublet and trousers could catch the eyes of any crowd reminds Jaskier of himself in his early years.

“Sweet Melitele, I’m your biggest fan! Oh my…” the boy proclaims, awestruck. “I’ve been following your ballads for years, and now I get to meet you in person!”

Jaskier looks to Geralt and then back at the man.

“Ah, I’m flattered. It’s always nice to meet a fan, but you see—” Jaskier gestures to the horse and the man behind him. “—I’m in a hurry to leave town.”

Besides, he’s in no mood to converse right now. The quicker he can get Geralt alone, the better. With this weight on his chest, Jaskier feels so drained just talking to anyone but his witcher, let alone dealing with an enthusiastic fan.

“Oh but you must listen to my set first!” The boy looks at him expectantly. “I dream of writing a hit song just like Toss a Coin. I could be just as big—”

“I’d love to, but the circumstances won’t allow it.” With the biggest smile plastered on his face, Jaskier dismisses the guy. “I’m sure there’s promise in you, especially now you’ve chosen the correct role model—”

“You can go, Jaskier.”

Jaskier snaps his head to Geralt, confused as to what he just heard.

“We need to leave this morning, my dear. That’s the plan.” Jaskier frowns. “Remember?”

He excuses himself to the young man and drags Geralt away too quickly, too rudely—on another day he’d feel contrite ignoring a fan like this, but today he’s mind is occupied by something much more important.

Once out on the street and alone, Geralt’s befuddled frown deepens. “Why did you—”

“I need to tell you something,” Jaskier interrupts. “Before I say it, I know you will get mad at me, but you have to understand that the past year has been hard on me, Geralt. When you showed up in Oxenfurt out of the blue, I didn’t have enough time to process everything or what it would mean for us to travel together again. That’s why everything is so wrong now and I need to make it right.”

“I know what you want to say.”

The world stops.

All he can see is that pained look on Geralt’s face, the one that’s breaking his heart and making his blood run cold. Of course, he knows, witcher senses and all. As if Jaskier has ever gotten away with lying to Geralt’s face in the past.

“You do?” he breathes, the crack in his voice unmistakable.

Geralt lets out a sigh. He’s not mad. At least, he doesn’t look like he’s angry with Jaskier. “It’s been obvious in the past few days, and I… I do understand.”

“Oh.”

There’s still hope then. Jaskier just needs to come clean and apologize, and, definitely, throw whatever game he’s been playing out the window. They will be fine. The two of them, the bard and the witcher on the path, just like the old days—

“I can leave now,” Geralt starts. “With me gone, you’d be free to stay here for longer. You have so many things to see and so many people to meet. You can go back and talk to the boy. Finally, there’s someone who can wax lyrical with you. It’ll be for the best.”

“What?”

“You don’t need to say it, Jaskier. I can see now that it’s better if we part ways. Let’s not make things more difficult.”

Jaskier stares, gaping like a fish out of water. He can’t believe what he’s hearing, after all this time, after the mountain. Geralt wouldn’t do it.

He wouldn’t.

“You are leaving me here?”

Geralt looks as if he’s stricken. His shoulders tense like every time he wants to appear smaller.

“It’s for the best,” he repeats.

Jaskier shakes his head. “Wait, I thought you understood. I’m sorry, Geralt, for the past few days. I didn’t mean to… I wanted to apologize, so you know I didn’t mean it.”

The smile at the corners of Geralt’s lips is too sad.

“You don’t need to apologize. It wasn’t fair of me to ask it of you to begin with—”

“Ask me what?”

“—Us traveling together again… It was only wishful thinking. There was never a second chance and I never should have gone to find you.”

Jaskier takes a step back, swallowing the lump in his throat. Suddenly the collar of his doublet is too tight and the lute on his back is too heavy. He has to look away from Geralt’s resolute face just to stop the stinging in his eyes.

“You promised…” he mumbles. “You promised not to leave again.”

Geralt falters for a second, his hand resting on Roach’s saddle as if to steady himself. When he answers, his tone is cold, colder than Jaskier can take.

“How can I keep you when everything catches your eye, Jask? You are not made to stay... Not with me. Not after everything that happened.”

Disbelievingly, Jaskier retreats. His hand fists around the strap of his lute case, digging into his palm. “Not made to stay? Seriously?”

“It’s for the—”

“If you tell me it’s for the best one more time, I swear, Geralt…”

“Jaskier.”

Geralt calls out his name without heat like he’s placating an unreasonable child. Jaskier exhales in exasperation.

“Maybe you are right that it was only wishful thinking.” he forces the words out, his heart sinking. “For once it was actually my fault, and you can’t wait to ask for life’s one blessing again.”

“I—”

“Fine. Have at it,” Jaskier hisses. “I don’t care.”

The silence that follows is deafening.

Jaskier lands the biggest lie he’s ever told in this mess. He drags his feet to cooperate, to take him away and put some distance between him and the worst disaster that’s ever descended upon his life.

Roach neighs, but the sound is far-away. Jaskier grabs at the doublet at his chest and wonders if the witcher-shaped hole within can ever be filled.

 ~~

Jaskier doesn’t stop.

He walks into the bustling crowd of the market, heedless of cheery townspeople going about their day, and he keeps walking until the noise dies down.

Jaskier stops at the riverbank with nowhere to go, so he sits down on the ground and finally lets the dam break.

Crying does very little to ease the ache, and yet when the tears bring a release for the pent-up pressure in his chest. It’s hard to feel justified in letting the pain be cried away when he’s so aware of his own faults in the once-again ending of their companionship.

After all, Geralt couldn’t wait to throw him aside on top of that mountain when he’d done nothing wrong. What makes him think Geralt will tolerate him when he intentionally fucks things up.

Jaskier gasps for air, but only a whimper chokes out. How pathetic, to regret the most precious second chance destiny has ever granted him.

Now he knows for sure that he doesn’t deserve to cry, to let himself feel even just slightly better in the wake of his destruction.

Jaskier tries to stifle the tears with a hand at his mouth, and breathes. In and out, one breath after another. It’s like trying to contain a storm threatening to wreck through his entire being.

But he manages, after an eternity.

Jaskier sniffles one last time and wipes away the tear tracks. There’s a tremor in his hands but he pays no mind. The lute case is laying carelessly in the grass where he dropped it. He slings it onto his back and realizes that in a frenzy, he’s left everything else he owns in Roach’s saddlebags.

He could laugh at the idea of going back there, tail between his legs, as if being kicked out of Geralt’s life—for good this time—isn’t humiliating enough. His only hope hangs on the possibility that Geralt may have left his packs at the inn so they don’t have to face each other. Why would Geralt want to see him anyway? The witcher should be long gone.

Jaskier doesn’t make it too far when a streak of lilac pops out of nowhere.

“Oh! Here you are, Master Jaskier. You are a hard man to track down.”

The boy still looks too chirpy for Jaskier’s liking, too bright and too carefree. His mood is soured even further.

“Look, I’m not fit for company today.” Jaskier walks right past the young man, heedless of his insistence. “Mister—what is your name? Maybe you’ll catch me at the next festival if fate allows.”

The boy ignores his deflection and stops right in front of Jaskier’s face, which successfully draws his full attention and pisses him off completely. “I said—”

“Why are you in such a hurry?” The kid doesn’t relent. “I thought the witcher is determined to abandon you for the second time. Don’t you think he’ll stick to it this time?”

Strangely, the other man doesn’t look nearly as young up close. His face is youthful for sure, smooth and unblemished, and yet there’s an inexplicable weariness in his blue eyes. Now that Jaskier notices, these blue eyes look eerily similar to his own. With just the eyes, he could be looking into a mirror.

Jaskier wants to squirm.

“Did no one teach you that eavesdropping is rude?” He pauses, startled. “Wait, a second time… You knew—”

“Oh.” The man looks sheepish. “Can’t blame a fan for keeping tabs on you, can we?”

An overly zealous fan is nothing new, but somehow, this one sends a shiver down Jaskier’s spine.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Jaskier says, trying to back away. “I need to get back to town. You know, where the inspirations are, so I’ll find it in me to… um, compose more of those pieces you love so much.”

“Oh, don’t kid yourself! You are not going back to him, are you? Twenty years! All the sweat and blood and singing his praises and this is what you get after all this time!”

The guy grabs at Jaskier’s arm, which he shakes off in horror.

“You know nothing about me. Or Geralt.”

“That witcher will never see you!” he exclaims. “I was there when your first ballad swept the continent off its feet, Jaskier. From that moment on, I knew you were special. What appreciation has that mutant shown you? Only insults and scorn.”

“Geralt is not like that, he—”

Jaskier freezes to the spot.

He forces his attention back to the boy’s face. His eyes are still startlingly blue, even more so in anger. There’s not a single trace of age at his temples, and yet…

“My first song was twenty-two years ago,” Jaskier states, something akin to fear creeping into his voice. “What did you say your name was again?”

At those words, the man’s face shifts. It’s like watching someone shed a layer of skin, a façade, and another being emerges. A much more powerful one.

“Does it matter?” When he answers, there's magic in the air, sizzling with power. The blue of his eyes shimmers under the surface, ever so slightly. Jaskier’s heart clenches.

Not human.

Definitely not human.

“We never got to know each other, well,” Jaskier stalls. “I think now it’s not too late.”

He has an inkling that getting away will not be an easy feat. He can hope to distract this… this creature long enough for a chance to run. His hand tightens around the strap nervously, and the man’s eyes follow the movement without a beat.

Shit.

Jaskier turns to run, to take the lute case in his hands as a weapon, but it’s too late. The next thing he knows, the case is thrown against the ground and he’s backed against a tree. The other man’s grip around Jaskier’s wrists is like a vice, securing his hands right above him.

Jaskier wants to scream, but no sound escapes his throat. His body shakes all over, out of control.

“The fae never reveal our name easily,” the creature hisses.

Those blue eyes are too sharp and there’s a scent growing overwhelmingly strong. Fae, as it turns out, smell like newly cut grass and wildflowers, like the forest.

If only Jaskier can live long enough to share the trivia.

And then, with both their hands occupied, the fae presses his forehead to Jaskier. He struggles but to no avail.

The touch is cold and something is slipping into Jaskier’s mind like an icy stream in the spring. It trickles probs at every corner of his memories.

“Oh, even now you are loyal to the witcher. You still believe he’ll save you, little songbird.”

Jaskier’s vision turns fuzzy. His soundless whimpering breaks into breathless gasps, like a wounded animal waiting for a mercy kill. At the back of his mind, he’s achingly aware of Geralt’s absence. His witcher in shining armor won’t come this time, not after all the—

“All the pretty little lies. Every single one of them, born out of love, misguided.”

However true that statement is, Jaskier doesn’t want to hear it. His love for Geralt shouldn’t be spoken with malice. He fights against the fae’s iron hold with everything he can muster.

There’s a crack of bones before the pain hits him, exploding from his wrists all the way down his arms. Jaskier sobs, the edges of his vision darkening, the shock threatening to pull him under. He still can’t make a sound.

“What can we do?” The fae’s voice comes from a distant realm. “How can we have your loyalty as the witcher does? Oh, how fierce you are, songbird. To have your voice at our court… Perhaps, more lies will do. Yes, it was your choice, what your heart desired. A gift from us.”

Jaskier can’t process anything he’s hearing. He’s too tired from the searing pain in his wrists.

“Just a few lies. They’ll be easy to roll off the tongue, and yet, such powerful weapons.” The fae retreats. “A gift of lies. Thank you for the inspiration, Jaskier the bard. We hope you enjoy it as much as we will.”

Without the brute force holding up his body, Jaskier sagas against the tree, his legs unable to support his weight. His lungs burn and his mind turns fuzzy, bereft of the fae’s presence.

Jaskier needs to move, needs to scramble away from this place. But before the sweet relief of freedom even hits him, magic seizes him again and, finally, finally, a world-ending scream explodes from his lungs.

The world goes to black soon after.

 ~~

Jaskier wakes to someone shaking his shoulder, someone gentle.

His body pulses like a bruised nerve. The back of his head feels like it’s been trampled by a whole army and his neck creaks at the barest move. Jaskier’s nose is buried in damp grass and he chokes, which jostles his neck even more.

He groans miserably and tries to touch, only to be stopped by the burning in his wrists. He lets out a hiss.

Right, broken bones. Blue eyes that look the same as his. Fae.

“Careful… Fuck, Jaskier, what happened?”

A gravelly voice comes through the fog.

Geralt.

Oh, Jaskier can sob with relief. He arches his back, slowly propping himself up on his elbows. His eyes are so sore from lying on the ground face down, but the sight of his witcher is unmistakable.

Jaskier wants to call out for his witcher, but a sob is the only thing that gets out. He cradles his hands and finds his right wrist is swollen red and sensitive to the touch, but the left looks more or less the same. Only a throbbing pain tugging at his fingertips.

He reaches to the back of his head with his left hand, where the crick is prickling at his nerves, only to find a gash at his nape and hair caked with blood. He doesn’t remember hitting his head while falling. He doesn’t remember falling at all.

So, one wrist sprained, the other broken, plus a gaping hole in his head. Jaskier can cope.

If he doesn’t die from the embarrassment, that is. He whines pathetically, already exhausted.

“I told you not to move.” Geralt catches Jaskier’s tilting body. Amber gold flows with concern. “What happened to you, Jask?”

The question comes out soft, more of a whisper to the witcher himself than demanding answers. Jaskier’s lips wobble at the endearment. He needs to tell Geralt everything. Fuck his injured pride. Geralt came for him. This wonderful, beautiful, sweet man came to him after the disaster that is this morning and he’s still trying to help Jaskier.

All because Geralt is safety. He’s safety and home, and Jaskier needs to tell him—

“None of your business, witcher.”

It takes a moment for Jaskier to register what left his lips, the venom that drips from these words so foreign. He’s never aimed at Geralt before. From the looks of it, Geralt is equally startled if the tiny crease by his lips is any indication.

“You hit your head,” Geralt says patiently, hovering close to Jaskier’s face in an attempt to check the wound on his neck. “It’s bad. Here, let me see—”

“Get your filthy hands away from me!”

The words fly out on their own volition. Jaskier flinches, the same time as Geralt takes back his hand as if burned. He closes his mouth with a pop and the feeling of something severely wrong weighs down on his stomach. That’s not what he meant, not at all. The only thing he wants to do is lean into Geralt’s touch and melt into a puddle. Whyever did his mouth betray his heart? Why did he…

Why did he…

…Lie?

His mind focuses on a sing-songy voice.

A gift from us.

A gift of lies.

It’s like a bucket of ice water thrown over Jaskier’s head. He sobers up immediately. The inspiration they took from him. The fae’s gift.

The fae’s curse.

Geralt’s brows are knitted together, amber eyes imbued with hurt. He is still crouched in front of Jaskier, hands fisted at his side and shoulders taut. He’s got the look now, that lost look that only appears when a mob drives him out of town with pitchforks and stones. Jaskier has seen that look one too many times.

And now he's the one causing it.

“Jaskier?” Geralt asks, shocked, unsure.

Jaskier breathes hard and tastes the bile rising in his throat. Geralt doesn’t deserve this. He doesn’t deserve to have that hopeless look on his face or to be shunned by the world, by anyone, and least of all, by someone he’s let stay beside him for so many years. By the Gods, Jaskier needs to let Geralt know he’s the kindest person on earth and more human than any human. He’s Jaskier’s friend and protector, his dream, his heart—

“You are a mutant, a freak,” Jaskier feels the words slip out, too late to realize the mistake of opening his mouth. “No better than the monsters you slay.” The magic compels his tongue. He bites down on it but it’s only futile. “You feel nothing and give nothing but death to those around you.”

Jaskier recoils, tasting blood. In front of him, Geralt mirrors his movement. The entire time, the wolf medallion rests against his chest plate, Jaskier’s last hope, sitting still and unresponsive.

And Geralt…

He doesn’t defend himself.

Of course not. Geralt never defends himself against the stoning even when he can easily defeat most humans with his bare hands. There’s a faded scar near his hairline, a solid proof of men’s capacity for prejudice and violence.

Now Jaskier has joined their ranks.

Geralt looks like he’s been suck-punched in the gut, his eyes wide and crestfallen. And yet, wide amber eyes gaze upon Jaskier without accusation, only quiet acceptance. Jaskier shudders with disgust and fear, which must be the reason Geralt is backing away further.

“I’ll leave… If you—” he pauses, before standing up. “I see. This is goodbye, Jaskier.”

Don’t go!

“Get away then!”

Jaskier shakes his head, putting all the force he can muster into biting into his lips, scared of what may come out. His wrists burn but he has to force his mouth shut by pressing his palms over it.

Why can’t Geralt see that something’s wrong? Why can’t he see Jaskier?

See me! Jaskier pleads silently through the tears.

Geralt’s face falters as he spares one last glance at Jaskier.

Look what you’ve done to him, the sing-songy voice returns. This is your choice. You chose to lie, little poet. Be careful what you wish for.

Jaskier crumbles like a puppet with his strings cut. He barely contains the choked-out whimpers. The burning in his lungs is nothing compared to the anguish. He could die at this moment and it would be a sweet release. Hurting Geralt like this, it’s worse than a thousand broken bones and a million cuts on his skin. In the darkest corners of his mind, he wants Geralt to walk away from him. If Jaskier has to spew any more venom towards the man he’s loved for more than half of his life, he’d surely want to walk into the ocean and never come out.

He presses his ears to the grass and remembers the cold wind on the mountain. He was a fool to hope Geralt could come to him then. He is a fool now.

The witcher drags his feet away, one step after another, trampling the soft flora under him, and then—

And then, by some miracle, he stops.

Jaskier watches as his witcher turns around and rushes back to his side, his jaw clenched and eyes determined. His heart bursts with hope, but his fists press against his mouth harder. There’s more blood coating his tongue.

“I can���t,” Geralt states as he kneels next to Jaskier’s curled body. The betrayal in his eyes ebbs away and in its place is something…tortured.

Jaskier shakes his head, or is he trembling again? His vision swims with blood loss. He won’t be able to stay awake for long.

“I can’t leave you here, Jaskier,” he muses to himself, frowning deep. “Shit. You are bleeding again.”

Jaskier scoffs into his fist, almost hysterical.

“You are in shock, and you are about to pass out. I don’t know what happened, but your wrists are a mess. Jaskier…” The name comes out like a prayer. “I heard your wishes. Loud and clear, this time. I know you loathe my presence in your life, but… I have to make sure you’ll get better. Please, forgive me.”

Geralt tries to gently pry Jaskeir’s hands away, but he struggles blindly. Through the haze of his mind, Jaskier’s last thought reminds him to keep his mouth closed.

“Forgive me,” Geralt mutters in anguish, “I can’t let you hurt yourself because of me. Forgive me, just one more time.”

His hand makes the familiar sign of Axii, and everything turns…soft.

The pain is gone, the magical hold on his tongue too. Jaskier loses himself in the mellow sensation of giving up control. The ground disappears under his body and his head lolls against Geralt’s chest.

“I was wrong.” Regret rumbles deep in Geralt’s chest. “I was the curse that befell you. After all the hurt you’ve received by my side, Gods, and I still can’t keep myself away from you. I will not make the mistake of forcing myself into your life again, Jask. Allow me a few days to see you safe, and then... Never again.”

The vow is so wrong, but Jaskeir is powerless to protest. He catches a broken whisper before darkness claims him for the second time on the same day.

“I’m sorry, Jaskier. For my heart.”

Jaskier welcomes the oblivion that drags him under, as well as the nightmares that follow.

~~

I'm...sorry. 

One more chapter to go. Hopefully this time I won't have to up the chapter count. Some real communication and comfort are on the way! <3

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @a-kind-of-merry-war @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @kitcatkim3 @endless-whump @rey-a-nonbinary-bisexual @llamasdumpsterfire @dapandapod

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

[lovely-angst]

hbd dearest dynamight

a/n: a little late, but happy birthday boom boom boi! ily!

genre: fluff

pairing: bakugou x reader

summary: you try to surprise bakugou on his birthday, but he comes home early from work!

word count 1.7k

04.21.21

-

"I can't believe I gotta work on my birthday," Bakugou groans as he runs his hands up and down his face. It was just hitting six in the morning and Bakugou was about to head out the door for work, not before lounging on the couch one last time to bask in the warm presence of his home.

"Hey, it's okay. Heroes gotta work on their birthdays sometimes. If it makes you feel better, your fans are probably pretty excited to wish you a happy birthday when they see you on patrol," you say, bending down to kiss him on the forehead, feeling his arms snake around your waist, cheek resting on your pregnant belly.

"I guess, but we could've been doing something together," he mumbles into your swollen stomach. Chuckling, you try to push him away, but his strength was far greater than yours, even when he didn't try.

"Katsuki," you whine, "we can always celebrate when you're off," you try, but he doesn't budge. Instead, he lifts you into his arms as he carries you over to the front door.

Your eyes lock and you give him a shy smile, feeling nervous with the way he stared you down so passionately and quiet.

"I could just not show up. They can get Deku to cover for me," he whispers against your lips, but you shake your head at him, "it's not just me who loves you, you know. it's a day the citizens want to celebrate—to celebrate you. Plus, you already have the whole night with me," you say with a shy smile and Bakugou couldn't help but smile back, closing the space between the two of you to press a kiss onto your lips.

"Can't really do much now that we have the little pooper on the way," Bakugou says, eyes glancing down to your stomach. "We still could," he inquires, but you slap his chest, "we are not gonna cause a ruckus in there for him." Setting you down gently on your feet, you watch as Bakugou puts on his boots before opening the door, the sun just rising in the sky. A frosty chill in the air before he turns back to look at you, "don't you have something to tell me?" Jumping in your spot from the sudden question with an 'oh!', you lean forward to press a warm kiss on his lips, "I love you, have a good day at work." But that didn't seem to be the answer.

Bakugou frowned, lips slightly pouting before speaking up once more, "anything else?"

Staring at your husband, you give him a quizzical look before the light bulb finally goes off in your head.

"Happy birthday, Katsuki, my dearest Dynamight," you say, pressing many kisses over his face before pulling back, hands lingering on his cheeks. "See you when you get back,"

"There you go," he says with that handsome grin you've always been fond of, "I love you too," and with that, he was off and ready to save the world once again. You sighed happily, watching your husband using his explosions to propel him to work. Just when he left your field of view, you quickly ran back inside and grabbed your phone before dialing a number.

Pressing the phone against your ear, you listening to the rings before a deeper voice spoke up on the other side, "Hello?"

"Kirishima? Great, Katsuki just left, you can come over now?" "On my way, (Name)!"

And a quick fifteen minutes, the cute redhead showed up at your door with loads of boxes behind him before flashing his adorable smile, "I have everything ready here!"

"Thank you, Kirishima! You're a lifesaver!" you cried as you helped him bring the small and light boxes in while he took on the large, heavy boxes. And though you offered to help him out with some medium-sized ones, he continued to swipe them from your hands, not wanting you to stress your body and the baby.

"So, what do you have planned for him today?" he asks, placing the last box down in the once empty room now filled with boxes. "Okay, so I really want to surprise Katsuki by finishing the nursery room today by the time he gets home!" "Thankfully, Katsuki and I had already painted the nursery room a while back, so all that's left is to add the furniture and decor," you explain as you spun around gently, already envisioning the final product.

"It'll just make everything so much more real," you say softly, running a hand over your belly.

Kirishima offers you a smile before rolling up his sleeves, "well then, let's get to work!"

-

It had only been five hours into his shift, and Bakugou was already pretty miserable at work. Nothing was going wrong, he just would rather have been spending the day, his birthday, at home with you, his pregnant wife. Hearing a knock on the other side of the door, Bakugou mumbled out a "come in" before Midoriya and Todoroki walked in with a small cake in their hands, a lit candle as a finishing touch.

"Happy birthday, Kacchan!" Midoriya cheered, but Bakugou could only roll his eyes. "How come you didn't take the day off to celebrate?"

"I couldn't and I was just gonna have IcyHot or you cover for me, but (Name) insisted I come," Bakugou replied, somewhat salty. Midoriya could only respond with a light chuckle and a supportive smile, "(Name) probably just wanted you to go out and have the people celebrate with you." Bakugou scoffed, "she did."

"Well, you're not on patrol today, so why don't you take the rest of the day off? Midoriya and I can finish the rest for you," Todoroki suggests and Midoriya nods enthusiastically.

"Yes! Go enjoy the rest of the off! Take the cake to share with (Name)!" Midoriya chirps, practically shoving the cake into the birthday boy's arms before pushing him out the door.

"Tell (Name) we said hi!" and with that, the two shut the door closed in his face, leaving him alone with the small cake with the still lit but melting candle. At least he was free to go home now.

It was just hitting noon when Bakugou made it back to the luxurious apartment the two of you lived in. He had been stopped a handful of times by fans and citizens alike gifting him presents or wishing him a happy birthday. Either way, he was thankful for everyone, but right now, he just wanted to spend some time with you.

"(Name), I'm back early," Bakugou calls out, expecting you to run down the hallway to greet him like you always did, except he was met with the faint sound of music coming from down the hall.

Placing the cake down on the kitchen table, Bakugou curiously made his way towards the door where the unfinished nursery room was. The door was slightly ajar, and he could hear your singing come from inside along with a few thuds here and there.

Gently pushing the door open, he peeked inside only to see you sitting on the floor with a bunch of different parts and tools all around you as you continued to build whatever you were working on.

You looked extra attractive working so hard with your hair out of place. Strands turning every which way as you focused hard on what looked like a baby crib? "(Name)? What are you doing?" Bakugou finally asks, spooking you in the process. "Katsuki! You're home early! I was nearly going to pop the baby out early!" You say, quickly getting up to hug your husband.

"Deku and IcyHot told me to take the rest of the day off," he responds, eyes drifting away towards the work in progress behind you.

"Oh, you weren't supposed to see all of this until you got back!" you whined, "it was supposed to be a surprise!"

"A surprise?"

"I wanted to finish the nursery by the time you got back, but I didn't expect you to come home early," your words were shy as you played with the hem of your outfit.

Bakugou's eyes widened before he glanced back up, fully taking in the view partially furnished nursery. There was a changing table placed along the wall and there was even a rocking chair and some drawers for all the baby clothes the two of you had bought or so kindly have been gifted.

"Kirishima did most of it, but he had an emergency to run to, so I tried finishing the rest. I'm really slow at it," you chuckle, glancing back to the unfinished baby crib.

"Well, now that you've seen it, happy birthday Katsuki! I really wanted the nursery finished by your birthday, but plans do always go the way you want them, right?" Your bright eyes glanced up into his own before he got out of your embrace and walked past you before sitting himself on the floor where you were previously.

"Katsuki?"

"We can still finish the nursery today. Where did you leave off in the directions?" He asked, picking up a screwdriver before paging through the instruction booklet. Squealing in joy, you ran over towards him before beginning to assist him with whatever he needed. Though, you spent most of the time ogling at his well sculpted arm muscles that he might've caught and teased you for.

The sun had gone by the time the two of you had finished furnishing the room. You and Bakugou stood in the middle of the peaceful nursery room, admiring the hard work and love that went into the room.

"It really feels like we're gonna have a baby soon, huh?" you say gently as you slowly began to rock in his arms to the soft music that was playing through your phone. "We're going to be parents."

Bakugou let out a hum in response before a content sigh left your lips. "Sorry I wasn't able to get you more. This is all I had planned," you confess, upset that you weren't able to give your lover more of what he deserved.

"This is enough already. The pooper is going to love it," he says, smiling into your hair as he continues to rock you side to side. Smiling back, you snuggle into him deeper,

"Happy Birthday Katsuki, I love you."

[kitazura]

it’s the thought that counts, tendō satori

1.6k words of fluff; gn!reader

synopsis: tendō doesn’t understand the excitement surrounding valentine’s day until he decides to celebrate it with you.

notes: i haven’t finished the manga but i’m making timeskip content :D thank u rissie (@sugas-cookie) for beta-ing mwah <3

Tendō’s come to learn that Valentine’s day brings waves of purchases made by eager youth preparing to confess their affections, frantic lovers who’d completely forgotten about the occasion, and other last-minute shoppers looking for gifts to give their loved ones. This year is no different; the orders pile up so quickly he can barely keep up with them.

He’s not complaining—not when his bills are getting paid—he just doesn’t understand why everyone lets themselves get carried away by the Valentine rush. At the root of it all, it’s blatant commercialism, another scheme by society to run your bank account dry through obligatory benevolence, so why play into it? Well, as long as it keeps him in business, he supposes he’ll keep his critiques to himself.

“Don’t you think you’re being a little cynical?” you say when he shares his thoughts, the gentle smile on your lips showing you mean no harm. “I think the idea behind Valentine’s day is charming.”

He brushes his thumb over your cheek, humming in response. “Why’s that?”

“Isn’t it sweet when someone puts time and effort into something just for you?” you gush. Tendō watches your gaze turn dreamy as your mind wanders off into the clouds. “Like making chocolates for the person you like.”

“That’s what I do for a living, darling.”

“You like all of your customers?”

“Of course; they give me money, after all.”

You laugh, swatting his arm lightly. “I guess it’s hard to romanticize something you do as work.”

You’re not wrong. At some point, it’s expected for your job to lose its magic, no matter how passionate you are about it in the beginning. Chocolate has long lost its allure to Tendō, and now he spends day in and day out pouring it into molds and hurrying to shape it before it hardens beyond salvation. It’s become a chore for him, and even just catching a whiff of a candy bar sends his brain into the stress of work mode.

“What do you think about when you make chocolate, Satori?” you ask, interrupting his thoughts.

“What an odd question,” he remarks, clicking his tongue like a fussy mother hen. “I think about what I have to do to make it look presentable, of course. And then I count down the minutes until I come home to you.” He beams, proud of his response.

But pride turns to dismay when he catches a glint of disappointment in your eyes. His expression falls as he pulls you closer. “What’s the matter?”

You shake your head. “Nothing, nothing. Would you ever make me Valentine’s day chocolates?”

He tilts his head in surprise, then kisses your forehead. “I’d make you chocolate any day; all you have to do is ask.”

You seem to drop the matter, although he swears you sigh, “It’s not the same.”

He spends the next couple of days convincing himself he’d only imagined it, but something about your tone and attitude makes it stick in his brain. Whether you’d said it or not, there was clearly something behind your first question.

He asks you about it over dinner: “Is there a reason you want Valentine-themed chocolates in particular?”

“You’ve been thinking about that?” You laugh a little, surprised. “It’s not the Valentine theme I want; just the knowledge that you’re thinking of me on that day.”

He pesters you to elaborate—he’s always thinking of you, don’t you know that?—but you dodge his questions, leaving him in the dark once more.

Since you won’t give him any answers, he’ll just look for them on his own.

He texts Ushijima that night: “Why do you buy chocolate for the one you love?”

“Because they like it,” comes the reply. It’s simple, straightforward, but it’s not what he’s looking for.

He texts Semi the same question. The response is the length of a school essay, explaining the motivations of love in depths only a poet could reach, but it’s still not enough.

At work, your question echoes in his mind: What do you think about when you make chocolate, Satori?

What was he supposed to think about aside from the process? His customers?

He looks again at the order he’s making. It’s one he expects every year—it comes a week before Valentine’s, by a man whose wife adores chocolate covered strawberries. Tendō remembers it not only because of its consistency, but also because it’s always preceded by an order by the aforementioned wife, who asks for milk chocolate filled with raspberry créme that her husband is so fond of.

He wonders why they order the same thing at the same time every year. There’s no surprise in it, so what’s the point? Had he been in the husband’s place and you in the wife’s, he’d make sure to buy you something different every year, each present more extravagant than the last. He’d make sure that you’d always have something to look forward to in your married life.

A cheery little tune takes form beneath his breath as he pictures a life with you: silver bands around your fingers, lazy mornings on your days off, walks along the Seine.

He sweeps the excess chocolate off the molds in one clean stroke, sighing dreamily. You would buy a bigger, better apartment once you’d saved up enough, or even move to a quiet little cottage in the countryside.

His thoughts wander through the clouds as he mindlessly flits from one project to the next, forgetting to count the hours until his duty for today is through.

Lately, some of Tendō’s usual customers have been dropping by to say the same thing: there’s something different about his work these days. It’s not negative; on the contrary, actually, the quality’s spiked. But he can’t figure out what he’s been doing differently for the life of him.

It weighs on his mind from the time he clocks in to when he clocks out. He’s been using the same ingredients, the same equipment, so what was it?

His answer arrives in the form of the Chocolate Strawberry man, on the very eve of Valentine’s.

The man enthusiastically shakes Satori’s hand and thanks Him for his work, his hands warm and clammy from excitement despite the biting Parisian air.

“My wife would have liked to come along as well, but she’s preoccupied with the baby,” the man explains. “She wants you to know how much she enjoys your work, though. We look forward to it every year.”

“Then why not buy it off-season, when it’s cheaper?” Tendō asks. The man looks surprised, prompting him to continue. “With all due respect, you order the same thing every year, anyway, so why wait?”

The man laughs at the sincere look of curiosity in the chocolatier’s eyes, patting him on the shoulder, like a father to his son. “Why wait until birthdays to buy a cake? Why wait until Christmas to exchange gifts and set up the tree? It’s old advice, but it’s good: it’s always the thought that counts.” With one last pat on the back and an affectionate chuckle, the man wishes Tendō a good night—“Enjoy tomorrow with your loved ones.”

The stores are packed with the usual extremely last minute rush on Valentine’s morning, and for the first time, Tendō Satori is part of that crowd.

His arms are filled with the goodies he’d woken up early to buy: heavily discounted candies in tacky packages, a cheesy card, a bouquet, an offensively pink stuffed bear, crumpled foil balloons. (He’d made chocolates for you too; those were waiting in the fridge at home.) If it was an authentic Valentine’s experience you wanted, he decided, then it was an authentic Valentine’s experience you’d get.

He’d sent you out to pick up a cake across the city just before he’d left that morning, so the apartment is still empty when he returns. He checks his watch—only half an hour at most until you’d come back. Setting the bear on the counter, he gives it a determined grin.

“Think I can set everything up in fifteen?”

He’s just barely managed tying the balloons closed when he hears the knob on the front door jiggle as you unlock it.

“I’m home!” Your shoes thud to the floor, joined by Tendō’s footsteps as he hurries to help you with the cake. You thank him when he takes it out of your hands and leads you to the dining table while you chatter away. “Boy, did you see how many people are out there? It’s like all of Paris decided to run their errands this morning. It’s a miracle I got the cake here in one piece—what’s all this?”

Tendō grins, proudly motioning to his handiwork. The bouquet sits in the center of the table, surrounded by neatly arranged dishes of your favorite foods. The plush bear sits at the head, the card and candies tucked into its paws. Balloons reading “Happy Valentine’s” are tied to your chairs, gently swaying to and fro in greeting.

“Do you like it?” he asks. “I figured you wanted to do something for Valentine’s, but all the restaurants are booked so I had to improvise—”

You cut him off with a kiss, and another, then another. “I love it! I love you and I love”—you wave at the room—“all of this.” Another kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for thinking of me, Satori.”

He laughs as you hug him, squeezing as tight as you can. He thinks back to the strawberry man’s remark, “It’s the thought that counts.” And maybe, just a little, he’s starting to understand that there’s more to Valentine’s than business.

As you prepare the cake and gush over the bear, he pats the pocket of his jacket. The pretty little velvet box would have to wait until after lunch.

postscript: heyyy <3 i stopped writing for like three months srry LMAO but im back in business baby !! if i try hard enough and school stops kicking my ass maybe i’ll start posting twice a month ahaha ... unless?

[stillchaoticlogic]

Applin Pie

Summary

: Things are hard when you start your own bakery in the heart of Hammerlocke. Good thing your knight in shining armor is none other than Raihan the Gym Leader. You are smitten... Too bad you don't really think you're his type, especially when you see the beautiful and powerful women that surround him.

Good thing he likes you just the way you are.

Pairing: Raihan x Reader

Chapter: 1

Gazing out the window at the fading light you heave a sigh as you glance over at the mostly full case of sweet treats. Looking around at the cozy bakery you take in the overstuffed chairs and the mismatched teacups and plates. The corner houses a fire that is just barely flickering while lanterns hang from the ceiling giving a warm glow to the atmosphere. 

You knew opening a new bakery would be difficult, however, you were expecting that being in a prime area, that cost way too much to rent, would bring business. With only three customers all day even as you tried to hand out samples to the streets of Hammerlocke, to say the least, you are disheartened. You decide to close up for the day and lock the door before you begin to wipe down the tables. Your Indeedee, Bella, is cleaning the dishes and helping you to stack the chairs. Spook, your Pumpkaboo, is floating around putting out the candles and pouting about the lack of visitors. 

You are startled by a sudden knock on the door, you to look up and you see a man standing there. Surprised you hesitate before you walk over to the door to unlock it. 

“Hey! You aren’t closing up, are you? I saw your shop on my way into work today and I’ve been thinking about cake all day because of it,” he says with a friendly grin.

You blink in surprise at the man, “Oh? Well come on in, there is plenty left.”

He smiles as he walks into the shop with an ease you can only dream of and only then do you realize how tall he is. He’s wearing some kind of Pokemon league uniform, but you don’t really pay attention to the league, so you don’t know what he does or who he is. 

“What would you like?” you ask as you go behind the counter as Bella begins to clear the chairs from the tables once again. Spook is relighting the candles and thrills as he floats about, happy for the customer. 

The man studies the cakes and various other treats in the case before he glances up at you with a heart-stopping smile. 

“Sorry, I don’t really know what to get… Any recommendations?” He winks subtly and you fight to keep the blush at bay.

Before you can even open your mouth Strudel, your Appletun, lifts his little head up from where he had been dosing on top of the case before he points to an apple turnover called a Flapple Turnover. 

The male blinks at the tiny dragon for a moment before he chuckles at him, “Good choice buddy! I’ll take a Flapple Turnover!”

“Strudel likes to help customers by recommending his favorites,” you say with a laugh. 

“He’s a good helper then! It’s pretty cool you have an Appletun, how did you get one? Did your boyfriend give you an Applin?” he asks innocently. 

“Oh… I don’t have a boyfriend. When I was younger my family and I went apple picking at an orchard and we accidentally brought home a couple of Applin.”

“A couple?” he asks as he takes a bite of the turnover you hand him before a happy groan leaves his mouth.

At his question Tart, your Flapple, drops from the plant he’s been snoozing in. The stranger blinks at the newcomer before he chuckles at seeing the Flapple hovering before his face waving happily at him. 

“So you have one of each!” he says enthusiastically. 

“Yeah, Tart likes to sleep in the potted plants that hang from the ceiling, which is fine because he helps to take care of them,” you giggle, “And Strudel likes how warm the case is and helping undecided customers.”

“You’ve got some cool partners! So how long have you been open?”

“About a week, we don’t really have much business yet… That’s why I was closing up early…”

“Hey, don’t worry about it, it’ll get better. In fact, these are great and I’ll take a variety of pastries for the gym tomorrow.”

“Oh! So you work at the gym?” you ask as you grab a box and begin to load him up.

“You mean…” he trails off in surprise.

“Hmmm?” you hum as you glance up at him.

“You don’t know who I am?”

“Should I?” you ask with a furrowed brow. 

“Uhh… No! Forget I said anything! This is great, I’m sure everyone at the gym will love these! How much?”

“On the house, you coming in has brightened my day, which is payment enough,” you say waving away his money.

“No way! You’re brand new and I want to support you! How much?” he says pulling out his wallet.

You argue back and forth with the man for a few minutes before he finally relents and takes the pastries from your hands. 

“Fine… but you have to let me take a picture with these guys for my Pokegram and let me recommend this place!”

“Deal!” you giggle. 

He carefully picks up Strudel and Tart lands on his head as his Rotom Phone flies out and snaps a picture of the three together. He’s so handsome he probably has a lot of followers, you think to yourself as he sets Strudel down gently and Tart flies over and lands on your head. 

“Perfect,” he says regarding the photo, “Hey, thanks for the pastries! I’ll be back soon okay? And watch for my post, what is your username?”

“@SweetandSourApplins.”

He chuckles, “Got it! See ya soon!”

You wave as he walks out of the door and you feel for the first time all week that just maybe this isn’t hopeless after all. 

You quickly lock up and finish cleaning up the place before you head back into the kitchen. Eclair your Milcery is sitting on the counter near your baking supplies. Heading over to her you chuckle as she chirps up at you. 

“Come on everyone, time for bed!” you say as you set the alarm and head towards the door that leads up to your apartment. 

It’s a cozy and quaint little place with a nook for reading and a balcony with several vines trailing down. Cherry, your Cherubi, is outside tending to the plants as everyone makes their way to their respective places in the apartment. Syrup, your Slurpuff, is lounging in her bed, exhausted from helping with the baking that day. 

The kitchen is off white with plants and vines that hang everywhere and has an airy feeling to it. It looks out into your living room which has a couch and a few chairs surrounding a coffee table. A small kitchen table is off to the side and painted a soft aqua blue. Down the hallway are your bathroom and bedroom. It’s not much, but it is everything you could want. 

You get started on dinner for everyone and giggle as Spook floats about the kitchen handing you the ingredients you ask for. After everyone is fed and tucked in you go to bed unsuspecting of the next day’s events. 

The next morning you wake up, get ready for your day and head downstairs to your kitchen as if it is any other day. You get to work on making the pastries, pies, and cakes for today. Each one is pokemon-themed and carefully crafted to be extra cute. The attractive customer last night has given you a burst of energy and even if you don’t sell anything today, you think you will still be okay for at least one more day. 

With a tray full of a batch of mini cakes you make your way through the swinging door and into the front where you almost drop the tray of desserts. There is a line outside of the door twisting around the corner. Upon seeing you several of them smile and wave happily and you smile back pure elation taking over your body. You set the tray down and motion one minute to the customers milling about outside. You technically have about ten minutes until you open which should give you enough time to set up the case. You get to work yelling at Bella to grab the trays and bring them out. She hops to it as Spook floats about lighting the lanterns and candles that hang from the ceiling and along the wall giving it a whimsical ambiance. 

You notice gasps from the crowd as Tart and Strudel make their way out of the back with Syrup right behind them. You chuckle as Tart flaps over to the window and waves happily back at the group. You hear squeals from several of the girls about how cute your tiny dragon is. You chuckle as he continues to dart from one person to another entertaining the crowd as you finish up. 

“Strudel? Syrup? Spook? Are we ready? Bella? Good to go?” With a chorus from your team, you head over to the door to unlock it. 

“Hey! Welcome!” you greet when you open the door for them. 

“Hi! We’re so excited to try your cakes!”

“Raihan said they were the best!”

“The picture of your Flapple and Appletun is the cutest! You must have been so excited when Raihan wanted to take a picture with them!”

“Uhh… yeah, he’s super nice…” you say while you rub your neck. 

“What was it like meeting him? Is he as cool in person as he seems?” asks another girl as she shoves the other out of the way. 

“Hey, guys you know his favorite was the turnover right? Do you want to try one?”

A chorus of ‘yes!’ goes up from the crowd of girls surrounding you giving you the chance to refocus them. After you have gotten them their pastries they all take pictures for their stories before biting into them. 

“These are to DIE for!” 

“So good!”

“Raihan has the BEST TASTE!”

“We’ll be back soon!!” They wave as they leave the shop only for more to come in right behind them. 

Your morning is filled with young women and trainers buying up cakes, cookies and pastries. Several businessmen and women come in and buy dozens for the office along with coffee. Friends and lovers sit idly in the candlelight sipping tea and eating cakes. Your patio is full to the brim with customers enjoying their treats with their tea or coffee. You’re amused when you notice Cherry hopping about offering mint and lavender to the patrons. They happily accept the fresh herbs before she bounces away. 

The stars of the show are definitely Tart and Strudel and everyone always mentions Raihan in passing. You’re pleased when your other pokemon garner affection from your guests too as they squeal about Spook or giggle when Bella or Syrup would bring them their treats. You’re pretty sure your pokemon are now famous. 

It’s late afternoon before you get a chance to take a breather. Grabbing your phone for the first time all day you see a plethora of notifications from new followers. You go to the very first notification and see the post the mysterious Raihan posted. You click on his profile and feel yourself become embarrassed. 

“Of course he’s a gym leader… Of course, he’s The Gym Leader…” you grumble to yourself as you scroll through his profile. You see another picture of him taking a bit out a cheese danish that must have made the girls go wild. “No wonder I was so busy today… he’s got millions of followers… And he recommended me…” you murmur as you pause on a photo of him licking the icing from one of your treats with a sultry look in his eyes. 

You settle on the photo he took last night of your two dragons after a moment of scrolling his Pokegram. 

“Got to hang with these cool dudes tonight! They help run a bakery called @SweetandSourApplin you should totally check out! When you do tell Tart and Strudel hi for me. And don’t worry if you don’t know what to get, Strudel loves recommending his favorite pastry to you.”

You giggle at the caption and feel gratitude flood your body. You glance over at the pie you made especially with him in mind and smile. You were glad that you left in the back today, just in case he came by. You know it’s silly, but he really did make your day. 

As the afternoon drifts into the evening you regard your mostly empty case and smile as you begin to clean up. You’re hoping you’ll see Raihan, but you know better than to hope that he would come by two nights in a row. As the evening wears on you lose hope and lock up for the night. 

You end up on your balcony with a cup of chamomile tea as you gaze up at the stars. Spook is munching on some poke puffs you made as he keeps you company outside. A Flygon suddenly lands gracefully on your balcony its eyes blinking at you. You blink back before your arms flail in surprise as you jerk back in your chair, a yelp escaping as you do so. 

“Don’t be scared of him! He’s a total softie. He just wanted to say hi!”

“Huh??” you look around your balcony for the oddly familiar disembodied voice before you look at the balcony one house over. Waving at you casually is your apparent next-door neighbor the Gym Leader Raihan. He’s leaning against the railing with a lazy grin as he regards you and his Flygon with interest. 

“You… live… there?” you ask in shock as you point in his direction. 

“Sure do!”

The stone house next to your house and bakery is bigger than your own house with vines growing up the side. Perhaps you should have been paying attention the past few months while you’ve been getting things ready. Then again you have been rather busy so it’s really not a wonder that you missed your handsome and famous neighbor. 

“Oh…” You blink back at him while your exhausted brain attempts to catch up. 

Raihan laughs as his Flygon leans forward and sniffs you before chirping at you happily. 

“Hello,” you murmur as you gently lift your hand and run it along his neck, “Perhaps you would like a poke puff too?”

The pokemon chirps at you as you get up and head into your house before you emerge a moment later with a bag in your hand. Tart yawns as he follows you back outside and lands on your shoulder as he sniffs at the much larger dragon. You reach into the bag and pull out a puff that you hand to the dragon in front of you before you grab another one for the one on your shoulder. 

“He likes you!” laughs Raihan before he calls his partner back over to him. You chuckle as you watch Flygon show Raihan his treat before he eats it. 

“Thank you!” you blurt out suddenly.

“Huh? For what?” he asks as he pauses petting his companion. 

“For the recommendation… I sold almost everything today thanks to you!”

“Naw I just let them know you were there, you did everything else.”

“Still… thank you…”

“Anytime, Princess.”

You chuckle at the nickname, “I bet you call all the girls princess… Gym Leader Raihan.”

He winces when you say his title, “So you found me out, huh?”

“You made it kinda easy…”

He sighs as he puts his hands on his hips and looks up at the night sky, “Could you just… pretend you don’t know?”

“Huh? Why?” you tilt your head at his request.

“It was nice talking to you without having to be… Dragon Tamer Raihan… It was cool being just Raihan.”

“Well, you are just Raihan… I mean it’s cool that you’re a gym leader and you get to do what you love, but that doesn’t change who you are as a person. Plus… no offense… I don’t really pay attention to league stuff...”

“No offense taken princess,” he says with a chuckle.

“So...I uh… made an apple pie last night to try out a new design and recipe for the store… do you want to come over and test it out with me?” You’re glad the darkness hides your blush, and although you already know that this recipe is delicious your little white lie seems much less creepy than you just making him a pie.

“Princess I will never say ‘no’ to anything that you make. I’ll be right there!”

He runs into his house and disappears before you hear his front door open. 

“Come to the back!” you yell down at him as you lean over the railing. 

He sends you a thumbs up before you turn around and head to your back door. A moment later you hear footsteps coming up your back stairs and you let him in. 

“Cute place,” he says as he ducks his head to enter your home. 

“Oh… thanks!” you smile as you turn around to grab the pie that looks almost exactly like Strudel.

“That’s not actually your Appletun, right? It looks exactly like him!” he says in awe. 

You giggle, “Nope! It took me a long time to get this right! Here!” you say as you hand him a slice. 

He takes a bite and his eye widen in amazement, “This is amazing…” he says before he takes another mouth full. 

“I’m glad you like it! Here, try this as well! It’s a spiced tea, I think the spices complement one another quite well, don’t you?”

He quickly takes a sip before he devours another bite of his pie, “That’s it, you’re staying in business and right next door to me if I have anything to say about it! I’m not giving up my new job as an official taste tester.”

“Well if business continues like it did today you won’t have anything to worry about,” you say as you clap your hands together in excitement. 

“I’m glad you were busy today! I couldn’t stand seeing that look of disappointment on your face.”

“When did you see that?” you ask looking away from him. 

“When I knocked yesterday you looked so disappointed, I had to figure out a way to see that beautiful smile of yours.”

“Hush Raihan…” you say with a blush.

“It’s true! I saw you getting everything ready for your bakery to open and you were so excited! I loved seeing your smile, it always made my day brighter.”

You look away from him and blush, “I bet you say that to all the girls,” you say with a giggle as you playfully hit his arm. 

“Just the pretty ones who know how to bake,” he says with a wink.

You roll your eyes, “So cheesy…”

“You love cheese! I know you do!”

You cut yourself a slice of the pie as a means of distracting yourself just as Strudel comes striding towards the two of you. 

“Hey buddy,” Raihan says as he bends down to greet the tiny dragon, “Did you recommend all kinds of treats today?”

Strudel chirps up at Raihan, clearly happy to see him again as Raihan rubs the Appletun under his chin. 

“You train dragons right?”

“That’s right!”

“I bet you have a lot of cool pokemon…”

“I do have a really cool team. They are the best a guy could ask for. Do you battle?” he glances over his shoulder at you. 

“Not really…Sometimes I will, but I don’t have much of a reason to.”

“So you aren’t interested in battling at all?”

“Ahh well, I wouldn’t say that…” you hesitate as you find the right words, “I’m just out of practice. I battled when I was younger a bit, but I haven’t had much of a reason to lately.”

You shrug your shoulders as you regard Raihan. 

“If you like battles, I would love it if you would come to my match on Saturday. It’s an exhibition match with Allister.” 

“Who’s Allister? Another gym leader?”

Raihan laughs, not in a cruel way, perhaps more at himself before he answers you, “Yeah, he’s the Ghost-type leader of Stow-on-Side gym.”

“I love ghost types! I think they’re fun!”

“They are pretty fun! Do you have any others besides your Pumpkaboo?”

“No…” you say looking down slightly disappointed, “I’ve always wanted a Litwick or a Dreepy! Maybe even a Mimikyu!” Your eyes light up in excitement thinking about the cute ghosts you’ve always wanted. 

“Why don’t you catch one then?”

“I don’t know… I’ve been really focused on the bakery you know? It’s a lot of work and my friends are very helpful, I doubt I would have time for another Pokemon right now…”

“I get it… Too bad though… you would look cute with a Dreepy riding on your shoulder or a Mimikyu following along behind you… I bet your Pumpkaboo could show a Litwick the ropes…” he says looking at you as if he was imagining the pokemon keeping you company, his head resting on his hand and that lazy smile on his handsome face. 

You cock your head to the side, “What? You don’t think I’m cute now?” you tease.

“Ahh… So we’re going to play that game huh? You know you’re adorable, Princess.”

You laugh as you regard the dragon tamer before you murmur, “Alright I believe you…”

“I’m hurt, princess! Do you think I would lie to you?”

“Of course not, Raihan,” you chuckle as you grab his dirty plate from him. 

“Why do I have a feeling you’re going to spoil me?” Raihan asks as he regards you over the tea in his hands. 

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing, Princess… So are you coming to my battle on Saturday?”

“I’ll be there!”

“Excellent! I’m going to head home so you can get some rest, I’m sure you’re tired after your busy day.”

“Ok … Thanks for being my taste tester and for supporting me today.”

“Anytime princess… Anytime…”

“Good night!”

“Hey! Don’t forget your promise okay? I’m getting your ticket tomorrow!”

“I won’t forget!”

“Okay, I’m holding you to that! Good night.”

You smile as you watch him turn the corner before you close the door and giggle. You notice the look that Strudel is giving you and you frown at the little dragon. 

“Oh hush…”

He chirps up at you knowingly before you both head to bed to start another day.

Notes: Hey guys just something cute I’ve been working on! I hope you enjoy it! Leave a comment and some love and reblog to show support! 

[jimlingss]

Sugar and Coffee [17]

Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18

➜ Words: 4.6k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

Marriage seems to be the ultimate goal for many.    And you have to admit its appeal — cute invitations tucked onto tables by bouquet centerpieces, flowers blooming and budding all around the aisle and arch, long trains of wedding dresses, the tulle of the veil, the glowing smile of both bride and groom radiating happiness.   Love is in the air and it’s hard to hate it. It’s difficult to remain bitter.   For a brief moment in time, you forget about pushing the idea that romance is sickly — that the emotional dependency will cripple you when affections inevitably run out, that the imminent insecurity and jealousy will only act to lower self-esteem, that heartbreak is always impending.   Just for the slightest of seconds….you forget to hate love.   “Jungkook, Y/N! Get in here!”   Sejeong eagerly motions you over and you exchange an expression with the boy beside you before scattering over hesitantly. Yet, she fervently welcomes you, shuffling over and draping her arm around your shoulder. Jungkook stands beside you, smiling wide for the camera.   “One. Two. Three.” The wedding photographer snaps several pictures of all four of you.    “Is this okay?” you ask in a slight murmur in-between shots, still worried considering you didn’t really have a place in this wedding. The only people you know here are the two of them, Jungkook, and Chungha who was somewhere preparing to walk down the aisle.   “Of course, it is!” Namjoon zealously assures with a grin. “You guys are our official wedding cake makers. We can’t forget about you two.”   “Chungha requested that we take as many pictures as we can. She won’t mind, trust me.” Sejeong smiles, excited for her sister’s wedding, and she squeezes your shoulder. “It’ll be a great way to look back on the memories.”   There are a few more pictures taken and when the photographer gives the ‘okay’ sign, the married couple enthusiastically runs out of the frame. “Okay, now just our two interns!”   You and Jungkook awkwardly scoot together, but then the photographer raises his head and suggests you both to go even closer. And that’s enough for Jungkook to throw his arm around your shoulders, pull you close enough that you nearly stumble into his chest and he flashes a grin as the camera snaps while your expression is still stunned.   The next picture, you stand on the tips of your toes with the hopes of overcoming Jungkook’s height and teasing him later on for being short. But he quickly notices you and his grip on your shoulder tightens, attempting to pull you down for the following photograph.    “Hey, don’t try to push me down!”   You try to shove his hand off, but the effort is futile and Jungkook giggles. “You’ll never be taller than me, Y/N.”   “Psh.” You stay on the tips of your toes, putting your hand over your head like that’ll somehow create the illusion your height is greater than his. But then Jungkook goes on his toes as well, lifting up his chin. The two of you laugh, using one another to keep balance and stand as high as possible.   Namjoon and Sejeong grin at your banter and the photographer is smiling as well, continuing to take pictures at different angles and distances with no end in sight.   “You got something on your nose, Jeon,” you lie.   “What?” His heels touch the ground again and his hand lifts to his face. You steal the opportunity to jump straight up as high as you can, putting your hands on his shoulders.    The wedding photographer captures the picture, then one of Jungkook turning his head in shock as you’re still in the air. Then the one where you’re descending and he opens his arms, catching your fall. And the one where you turn to each other, smiling wide as you gaze at each other.   The photographer doesn’t say that these are the best candids he’s taken.   “My name is Jung Sowon and this is Stand By Me.” The woman with the sleek, long, black hair stands at the stage. The band begins to play behind her, drums and guitar crescendo. The wedding singer parts her mouth to sing the first note and the melodic song fills the venue. “When the night has come. And the land is dark. And the moon is the only light we'll see.”   You linger by, watching and swaying to the rhythm.    “Would you like some champagne, ma’am?”   A familiar voice beside you interrupts the music, but it’s a smooth timbre that you recognize.   You turn to find Jungkook, offering you a flute of bubbling champagne and you laugh, taking it.    “Thank you, good sir.”   Jungkook’s dressed in a classic suit — white shirt, black blazer and trousers, shoes and tie. It’s simple, but it makes him look good, hugging his form well. You can’t help musing that he cleans up well. But maybe that’s because you helped him do his hair. It’s combed down as usual, but with the bangs slightly curled in, a bit of his forehead peeking out. Jungkook was screeching this morning and whining like a baby, afraid your straightener would burn his skin, but you’re glad you held him down and did it.    You’re in a blue dress yourself, one that stops at the knees and is ruffled at the neckline. You didn’t think you looked particularly special, but by the way Jungkook was staring at you earlier, you’re not sure what to think anymore.   “The ceremony’s starting soon. We should go.”   You follow his lead, sipping on your champagne. “Hey. Don’t get drunk. It would be embarrassing.”   He scoffs, playfully eyeing you. “Who do you think I am?”   A grin spreads into your face. “I’m just saying.”   The two of you find your seats at the left, near the back. The parents of the groom and bride gather together too, taking their spots at the front rows and the other wedding guests begin trickling into the garden area.    You lean over to Jungkook, keeping your eyes straight ahead, but murmuring underneath your breath, “When do you think it’ll be over?”   “I don’t know. Half an hour to an hour? Why?”   “I’m kind of hungry.”   “Course you are,” he says back but then begins looking around. “Do you want me to ask one of the waiters to bring around those appetizers again?”   “No, I’m fine.” You giggle. “I was joking. I’ll be fine, Jungkook.”   But concern lingers in his eyes. “Are you sure?”   “I won’t starve,” you assure, not knowing he would take it so seriously. Jungkook is attentive to you these days and you’re not sure how to feel……   No. That’s not entirely true. You do know how you feel. But you won’t say it out loud.   Instead, you focus your attention on your surroundings.   The venue was absolutely lovely. It was still a part of the resort, but in a more secluded area that’s away from the prying eyes of tourists and resort guests. A few meters away was the ocean. The tide that was kissing against the shore, saltwater bubbling and fizzing every so often. It was the best of both worlds — the man-made garden inside the tent gorgeous and contrasting against the beach background outside. The floor is verdant grass, soft underneath your feet, and the flowers are in full bloom and wrapped around the ceiling and wedding arch.    The reception area you had peeked at earlier was even more incredible.    You can’t wait until the sun sets and the fairy lights turn on.    “This is actually so nice,” you sigh out, speechless. “You know, for the longest time, I wanted a garden wedding too. Like pink peonies would be one of the themes or focuses or whatever. They bloom during late spring, early summer, so that would be perfect since the weather would be good too.”   Jungkook glances at you. “Do you still want that?”   “I’d probably never get married, so it doesn’t really matter.” You shrug to him, snapping back to reality.    “Why not?”   “Love’s gross,” you mutter quietly as the last people take their seats. “Plus, no one wants me.”   “I want you.”   Jungkook says it forthrightly, without a beat of hesitation, instinctively. As if you asked him what his name was. You look at him, staring wide-eyed. Jungkook gazes back at you, unwavering.    Your heart stutters. And you quickly look away from him.   “You shouldn’t joke about that kind of thing.”   He sulks. “I’m not.”   But none of you are able to speak another word. The music interrupts when it begins. The classic wedding march plays and everyone turns around to watch the bridesmaids and groomsmen walk down the aisle with bright smiles. Sejeong and Namjoon wave at the two of you as well as they stride past.   And soon, Chungha is the one walking down with her arm hugging her father’s. She’s in a beautiful, white ball gown, practically glowing as the trail of her dress follows. The woman looks the happiest she’s ever been and as envious as you are, the joy is overwhelming.    Her soon-to-be husband is wiping at his eyes and when they meet, they hold one another’s hands, giggling.   "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…”   The officiant addresses the couple, reading a long passage from his book for twenty minutes about what love and marriage means. Then there’s an exchange of vows and it becomes emotional as they read their professions of love to one another.    You feel the sting of your eyes that you try to dispel away.   You forgot love could be so innocent and comforting. For so long, you’ve demonized it in your mind, discredited the emotion as silly mistakes. But with the way the couple stare at one another underneath the arch — so genuinely in love — you realize you had forgotten love could be so sincere.   Not every love ends in heartbreak. Not every relationship ends in heartache.   You had forgotten.    And you find yourself stealing glances at Jungkook.   “Sometimes I wonder how it’s possible that I became so lucky. That I was there on that day. At the right time. And I met you,” the groom inhales a soft breath, staring at his soon-to-be wife. “Not everyone can marry their best friend, but I’m happy to be one of them. There’s no one I’d rather become a family with than you.”   The rings are exchanged as tears pool in eyes and then the pronouncement of marriage is made. After the kiss, the closing remarks are said and everyone stands up, cheering at the newly married pair.   Chungha is laughing, her husband grinning hard and they run down the aisle together.   Love is in the air and you’re glad that you’re experiencing it with Jungkook by your side.   //   Weddings are stressful when you’re the planner or the couple, but it’s fun as the guest. One of the perks that you and Jungkook especially have is being able to pig out at the table without having to mingle or interact with others. It’s not like you know anyone here, so the pair of you have resided by the snack area.   “The catering company didn’t do a bad job.” You lick off your fingers.    Jungkook hums and then turns to you with his arm extended. You look down, finding him holding a chocolate strawberry and immediately, your lips part. He feeds it to you and you taste it on your palette while shaking your head.   “Not as good as yours.”   “Of course.” Jungkook grins, relishing in your praise.   “Where’d you find that?”    “Don’t freak out.” He pauses, letting you suffer in suspense on purpose. “There’s a chocolate fondue fountain over there.”   Immediately you whirl around to where he’s indicating and an audible gasp tears from your throat. Jungkook’s eyes crinkle in mirth and he follows after you, chiding you not to run.   The milk chocolate is falling at three different tiers, grandly cascading downwards in a smooth liquid. You grab a plate and begin to stack skewered strawberries, marshmallows, banana slices, rice krispy squares and pretzels onto it. And the two of you end up crowding the fountain, dipping the food in one at a time to indulge.    “God, I love chocolate.” You could drop dead right now and ascend to the afterlife fulfilled.   Jungkook holds back a laugh. “Don’t eat too much. You’re going to ruin your appetite and get a stomach ache.”   “Doesn’t matter,” you dismiss quickly. “I’m living my best life here, Jeon. I could die happy right now.”   “You better not.” He smiles. “I still need you around to cover for me when I mess up.”   Jungkook has more of a sensitive sweet tooth than you do, so he slows down his chocolate consumption sooner than you even have plans of halting. But he enjoys watching you eat, filling your cheeks with chocolate-covered fruit and sweets. He feels satisfied somehow when he watches you consume to your heart’s content.   He eventually starts dipping what’s left on his plate to feed you, not allowing it to go to waste.   “Ah.”   Your lips part and he feeds you again, but this time, the chocolate accidentally drips onto Jungkook’s hand. He curses, pulling up his white sleeve to not get it stained, but before he can grab a napkin to wipe himself off, your hand clasps around his wrist.   Without thinking twice, you pull his hand to your mouth and you lick off the chocolate. Your warm tongue runs along his skin, cleaning the mess. It takes only three seconds. But in the meanwhile, your pupils flicker up to look into Jungkook’s. Directly. Boldly.   His Adam’s apple visibly bobs in his throat. Sweat begins to collect at his hairline but by then, you’ve already let go and turned away. You’re nonchalant. Your attention returns back to the chocolate fountain and you’re fucking humming, continuing to pig out.   Jungkook cusses in his mind.    You’re a vixen. A damn witch.   But there’s no time to react or linger. Not when you’ve obviously moved on and haven’t thought much about your action. Not when the married couple arrives at the reception area and everybody takes their seats again.    “Thank you everyone for taking the time to come here for us.” Everyone raises their glasses of champagne. “We really appreciate it.”   “I’d also like to thank my older sister, Sejeong, and Namjoon for making such a beautiful wedding cake.” Chungha grins. “It was a surprise, but it’s better than I could’ve ever imagined and it was one less thing to worry about, so thank you. I knew I could trust you.”   “Please,” Sejeong says aloud, “It’s my job.”   There’s shared laughter and the bride carries on, “And thank you to Jungkook and Y/N as well for helping out with my sister’s shop and making the cake. I’m sure it would’ve been a lot more stressful without your help.”   You’re bashful under the attention, but soon enough, the speeches and toasts move onto different people in the room. The maid of honour shares a long story about how the couple met and the best man wishes the pair a wonderful future.    Not long after, the food finally gets served as the wedding singer continues her performance.   You get mashed potatoes as an appetizer and steal part of Jungkook’s scallop dish. He feigns a glare, but then the two of you are splitting each other’s food family style to get a variety of tastes. The main course consists of filet mignon for Jungkook and pumpkin ravioli for you.   You enjoy the meal for the most part, only slightly uncomfortable by the old woman in a floral dress who keeps glancing at you and Jungkook with a smile. And right before dessert is served, the stranger across the table seems to crack.   “How do you two know the bride and groom?” her voice croaks as she nosily asks.   “Oh. We just helped make the wedding cake.”   “We’re the bride’s sister’s interns,” Jungkook adds.   “Nice to meet you.” Her dainty, wrinkled hand shakes your hand and Jungkook’s. “I’m the groom’s great aunt. Such a lovely wedding, isn’t it?”   “Yes, it is.”   “The food’s great too.”   The old woman's eyes glimmer of mirth. “So how long have you both been together?”   You choke on your ravioli — Jungkook wheezes mid-sip of his water, coughing and sputtering. He pounds his chest. The pair of you look at one another, eyes rounded and wide.   “Oh...we’re not...uh….”   “No need to be shy.” Her hand bats the air. “There’s no need to hide anything, don’t worry.”   “Umm...well, we’ve known each other for a while now,” Jungkook says and you give him a look. Technically, it’s not a lie.   “Are you both considering getting married any time soon?”   The proposition gives you whiplash, but after working in the food industry for so long, you’ve perfected maintaining a calm disposition. Even if the smile you offer is stiff. “Oh, no. We’re still very young, so I don’t think so. Not at all.”   “There’s nothing wrong with getting married when you’re young,” she tells. “Back in my day, kids got married at eighteen. Right out of school. Better early than never was always my motto. If you know you’re good for each other, there’s no point in waiting.”   “Uhhh….” You’re not sure what to say to that.   Luckily, Jungkook jumps in and easily uses his infamous Jeon charms. “If I propose too soon, she’ll get bored of me. I’d prefer to keep her on her toes a little while longer.”   The old lady laughs heartily. “That’s a dangerous game, boy. If you don’t put a ring on it soon, she might just run off with another boy and you’d surely regret it then.”   He shakes his head. “She wouldn’t. It may not look like it, but she’s head over heels for me. She’d come chasing me.”   That seems to poke the old lady’s funny bone, but your mouth has dropped open. “I would not.”   “Sure about that?” Jungkook smirks impishly. “I might just run off with another miss if you’re not nice enough to me, Y/N.”   “Psh. I’d like to see you try, Jeon Jungkook.”   “You two are just too cute.” The old lady sighs wistfully. “Reminds me of my late husband and I. I know love when I see it.”   The meal eventually ends and the old lady wobbles off to mingle at another table with people she’s more familiar with — but as she bids farewell, she chides Jungkook to marry you already. And when she’s gone, he shifts to wiggle his brows at you.   You tell him that if he gets down on one knee tonight, you’ll slap him.   Fortunately, Jungkook has no such plans. Instead, the pair of you spend your time watching the sunset on the beach. The sky is painted in tangerine and rosy hues, the ocean reflecting the horizon and once it becomes dark enough, all the fairy lights flicker on. The venue becomes illuminated by the dim and soft mosaic of colours.   You feel ticklish and pink inside — stomach full of food, alcohol making it easy to loosen up, the amorous atmosphere a hatchery for hopeless romantics. You watch the first dance, listening to the smooth voice of the wedding singer and the warm sounds of the band. “Wise men say only fools rush in. But I can't help falling in love with you.”   The bride moves in sync with the groom, her dress gliding across the floor. Their hands are clasped together, feet moving slowly, eyes staring at one another. It’s magical to be an observer and it makes you wonder what it’s like to be there, to know you can live the rest of your life with the person you’ve chosen.   When the others trickle onto the dance floor, you watch them too.   And Jungkook soon returns, having gone to the bathroom and then taking a quick walk around. He finds you enjoying yourself in a rare carefree state, simply swaying to the melody in your seat.   His smile becomes tender.   “Go dance.”   You scoff. “I’m not going to dance by myself.”   “Then dance with me.” Jungkook takes your hand, pulling you up on your feet. “Come on,” he convinces when he sees your reluctance. “This is the only time I’ll ever dance. Are you really going to give up on this chance?”   You let him pull you on the floor right as another song begins.    It’s an older song — another slow one — fuzzy sounds that melts all around you. The wedding singer’s voice is sweet, drums providing a steady beat. The staccato of the bass is resonant and velvety with the lithe sound of the piano. “Stars shining bright above you. Night breezes seem to whisper ‘I love you’. Birds singing in the sycamore tree. Dream a little dream of me.”   But what should be romantic is terribly awkward.   Jungkook’s hands are placed tensely on your waist while yours are plopped on top of his shoulders. It’s as if you’ve been propelled back to the past — fifteen years old at a school dance with your crush, not sure where to look, how close to be, how to touch one another and be polite about it.    You wince when he steps on your foot.   “Ow.”   “Sorry.”   “I thought you danced, Jeon Jungkook.”   The boy’s brows knit together. “Who says?”   “I thought you could do everything,” you tease and this time, he’s the one lightly scoffing with a small smile tugging at his lips.   Soon, Jungkook steps on your foot again and you mutter cusses in his ear. It makes him laugh, but you swear the third time he steps on your toes, it’s intentional.   “Say ‘Night-ie night’ and kiss me. Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me. While I'm alone and blue as can be. Dream a little dream of me.”   The crowd on the dance floor is moving together — old married couples and the young ones holding each other securely to kids twirling with each other. Eventually, the music relaxes you enough that you melt into Jungkook’s arms and he falls into a rhythm, no longer stepping on any toes.    Your arms are looped around his neck, your fingers locked together. His hands are tenderly on the dips of your waist. The two of you sway with one another. There’s nowhere to look but directly into his eyes and you find his gaze fixed onto yours. As if your irises are the most interesting kaleidoscopes in the world.   Jungkook makes you nervous. He makes your palms sweaty, your steps unsure and seemingly unpracticed.   “Can you stop looking at me like that?” you murmur. In this party of people, only he can hear you above the music. It’s much too intimate.   “Like what?”   “Like you love me.”   “But I do love you.”   He tugs you closer and you search his eyes, brows furrowing unintentionally. You quietly scold him, “You can’t say that, Jungkook.”   “Why not?” he asks in a whisper.   “Because what does it mean for us?”   “Can’t friends love each other?”   “I—”   “I’m kidding.” Jungkook smiles gently, the corners of his mouth quirking. “Well, not really.”   The slow song encases you and Jungkook into a private bubble. The dim lights make his doe eyes sparkle even more than usual — like there are actual stars captured within them, like he’s snapped a picture of the night sky on a Summer night and kept them there. “Stars fading but I linger on, dear. Still craving your kiss. I'm longing to linger till dawn, dear. Just saying this.”   You never realized how much you love Jungkook’s eyes.   “Hey, can I ask you something?” he pipes up again in a gentle murmur as to not disturb the delicate moment between you two. “It’s not about me, but I have a friend who doesn’t really know what to do...”   “What is it?”   “He’s in love with his best friend who’s head over heels for some other guy and is still heartbroken over him even after so much time has passed. My friend really loves her, but he doesn’t want to ruin the friendship they have because it’s important to him.”   You hum a low note, corners of your mouth pulling. “Well, if this best friend is dancing with your friend, sharing the same bed together every night, and spending their days together, she’s probably not heartbroken after that guy anymore.”   Jungkook’s grip on you tightens, not too much that it hurts, but securely enough to keep you from floating away.    He swallows hard. “So you think he should go for it?”   “I think he should take it slow,” you hum. “Even if he values their friendship, once you’ve caught feelings, there’s not much you can do. I have personal experience on this topic, so I would know.”   “Would you now?” A boyish grin spreads into his cheeks, one that makes him look even younger.    “I think this friend of yours should take his chances.” You lean your head on his shoulder, relishing in his body heat. “Sounds like his best friend might just agree.”   Jungkook holds you close. The two of you sway together, enjoying the moment.   “Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you. Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you. But in your dreams, whatever they be. Dream a little dream of me.”   The fuzzy song fades as it ends. The last note holds the air. And with it, the spell breaks.   You pull yourself away from Jungkook’s arms, offering a small smile. It’s awkward, so you quickly turn away to return to your spot at the table. But then….   There’s a call of your name—   “Y/N.”   As you spin around, Jungkook tugs you in by your waist. Your lips meet his.   Your mouths collide together right as another song begins — one you don’t pay any attention to, where you can’t even discern the lyrics. Not when your heart rate is pounding in your eardrums.   It’s a soft brush of the surfaces of your lips, a timid touch, but soon, you’re eagerly deepening the kiss. You’re surrounded in Jungkook and everything that is him — the scent of fresh laundry and his cologne, giving into the velvet texture of his soft lips, reveling in the warmth of his skin that brings heat onto your cheeks.   Your hands slink to the back of his neck, sinking your fingers into the little hair there. Your eyes shut and Jungkook sneaks in a long peek at you, soaking in your pleasured expression before his own lids flutter closed. Your nose bumps together and he easily tilts his head, kissing you tenderly, but eagerly underneath the pretty lights.    Jungkook kisses you and kisses you, like it’s all he’s ever wanted to do. But really, he should’ve done this a long time ago — maybe that time underneath the mistletoe all those months ago.   So he makes up for the lost time, tasting your lipstick curiously, smearing it shamelessly, getting it all over his own mouth.    It’s hot, breathy, and when the pair of you pull apart, the thin thread of saliva between your mouths break. You stumble back on your heels, catching yourself on weak knees. You try to remember how to breathe properly.   Jungkook’s own chest is heaving and he shakes his head, wearing an infectious smile. He wipes his lips wet with your saliva haphazardly with the back of his hand.   “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to do that for.”   You laugh, grabbing his tie roughly. You tug your best friend closer. “Then shut up and do it again.”   The both of you are in the middle of the dance floor, underneath the lights, but none of you pay any mind.   This time when Jungkook kisses you, he’s grinning against your mouth and you can’t help but smile too.

[mulletcal]

be mine - a cake fluff fic

a/n: hello  welcome to this single dad!luke x cal fic, i blame @blackbutterfliescal​​ but also thank u brooke cause i never would have written it without the encouragement

words: 2.8k

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, food, heartbreak, lots of fluff, dad!sos, uncle!sos

Luke had never been sure how he would make it the first few months without Sophie’s mom around, let alone the first few years.  Sophie’s mom had decided 6 months into her pregnancy that she didn’t want to raise the child - she felt no connection to her, nor did she believe she was going to.  The idea hurt Luke, but he remained convinced that if she could just look into their baby girl’s eyes for the first time, she would realize; she would feel all the love Luke already felt just from hearing her tiny, rapid heartbeat.  But she never did- Once she had been cleared from the hospital, she headed back to their place, packed her things and left.

It had been almost four years since that moment.  Luke never thought he’d see the day where he could think of Sophie’s mother and not feel pain or anger, but he did.  Sophie made it easier, as every part of her resembled Luke; her blonde curls, her bright, curious blue eyes, even down to the dimples, and her personality.  The love Luke had for his daughter oozed out of him every single day, and you could tell how much Sophie loved him, too.

Something else that helped Luke through were his friends, or even more specifically, Calum.  The day Sophie’s mom had left, Calum was already there with his bag packed, ready to help him however he could.  Calum would stay up late into the night trying to soothe Sophie, while Luke tried to get some semblance of sleep.  When Luke was feeding Sophie, Calum would be doing the laundry, knowing that if he didn’t, Luke would wear the same sweats for a week straight.

“No baby wants to smell you wearing those sweats another day,” Calum had argued.

“My baby loves me just fine!”

“I didn’t say she doesn’t love you, I said she wouldn’t want to smell you.”

As Sophie grew, Calum wasn’t around as often.  He would come over whenever she or Luke asked, but he wanted to make sure that he gave them their space so that Sophie would learn to be social, branching out to make new friends instead of hiding in his or her dad’s leg when someone tried to talk to her.

One brisk February morning, his phone rang, indicating a FaceTime call.  The screen read Luke, but he knew at that hour it had to have been Sophie.  His suspicions were confirmed when he accepted the call, the top half of Sophie’s face appearing on the screen.

“Hi munchkin, what are you doin’ up so early?” Calum asked groggily, rubbing his eyes as he sat up in bed.

“I need your hewp,” She whispered into the phone, looking around the room with wide blue eyes.

Calum grew concerned at the word ‘help’, and automatically became more alert, “Is everything okay? Is your dad okay?”

“Yes, yes.  I otay.  Daddy’s otay.  I want you to hewp me make him a Vawentine,” She whispered again.  

Calum chuckled softly, running his hand over his face, “You called me at 5:30 to help you make a Valentine? Is this so I’ll get the supplies?” His question was met with a nod, which made him laugh again, “Okay bub, I’ll ask your dad if you can come over to have a playdate with me and Duke and we can make it then, yeah?”

Calum couldn’t see her smile with the way she was holding the phone, but the way her eyes lit up told him that she was smiling, “Okay! Wove you Uncle Cal!”

“Love you too angel, I’ll see you later.”

It truly wasn’t hard to convince Luke to let Sophie have a playdate at Calum’s place, citing he needed to go grocery shopping anyways and it was much easier and much cheaper when Sophie was otherwise occupied.

Calum kept the supplies hidden away until Luke was officially gone, just in case he came into the kitchen and saw the bag of red and pink materials.  Everything started off good, Calum was mostly helping her cut shapes so she could make a bunch of hearts for Luke.  

“Daddy aways say ask a grown up for hewp cutting,” Sophie explained, gesturing to Calum.  He wasn’t sure exactly why she decided to bring that up, but he’d roll with it anyways.

“He’s absolutely right.  You don’t want to accidentally cut your little finger, Daddy would need to put a bandage on it and kiss it better.”

Sophie was quiet for a moment, colouring in one of the hearts, “Why wouldn’t you kiss it?”

Calum laughed, reaching over to ruffle her hair, “I could kiss it better, but did you know Daddy’s kisses have healing powers?”

Sophie’s eyes widened, looking over at Calum as if he revealed all of the magicians secrets.

“It’s true! Think about it, when you get a booboo, does your Dad kiss it better?” Calum asked, leaning forward with a smile on his face, only growing bigger when Sophie nodded, “And doesn’t it always feel better right after?”

Sophie’s giggle in response was Calum’s answer, going back to cutting the paper for her.  The conversation between them was nonexistent for a few moments until Sophie piped up again.

“Does that mean you have to hewp me with the gwitter?”

Calum looked up, thinking for a moment, “Are you going to try and pick your nose with your hand covered in glitter again?”

Sophie placed a hand on her chest, feigning offense far too well for a three-and-a-half year old, “My nose was itchy!”

Calum laughed softly, grabbing the glitter from the bag so they could get to work finishing the Valentine before Luke got there.

Although Valentines Day was still a couple days away, the moment Luke walked through the door Sophie shoved the Valentine into his hands with a giddy smile on her face.

“What’s this my love?” Luke spoke softly, leaning down to Sophie’s height so he could read it.  Calum could tell by the way Luke’s face shifted how much that card meant to him, watching as he hugged Sophie tightly, “Of course I’ll be your Valentine, only if you’ll be mine though.”

Sophie enthusiastically replied with a yes and Luke scooped her up, resting her on his hip.

“Hey Soph, I have a surprise for you back at home but I think Uncle Cal would like to see it too.  Do you wanna ask him if he wants to come over for pizza?” Luke stage whispered to her, his eyes darting over to Calum.

The way he looked at Calum always made his heart stop, though he’d never admit it.  Calum was likely reading too far into it, but there was always something more to the way Luke spoke to him, and the way he looked at him.  A hint of softness, and a sprinkle of mischievous nature.

“Pizza?” Was all Sophie said, extending her hand to Calum as if that was his formal invitation.

“I’d love to join you.  Let me just get Duke fed and let out and I’ll let Roy know I’m headed out.”

It wasn’t long before Calum arrived at Luke’s doorstep, ending up meeting the pizza delivery person at the door as well. Paying for the pizza, he stepped inside Luke’s house like he had done many times before.

“Oh honey, I’m home,” Calum teased, being met by a small shriek as Sophie ran towards him at the door, “Y’know Lu, if you wanted me to buy the pizza, you coulda just asked me to pick it up on the way.”

Luke narrowed his eyes at Calum, taking the pizza from him carefully and turning to head towards the kitchen, “You know I never let you pay for food.”

He was right and Calum knew it; Luke always felt like he owed Calum for all he’s done for them- the long nights, the tears (from both Sophie and Luke)- Calum had been there through it all, so now Luke felt one of his only options was to never let him pay for a meal they shared ever again, which Calum of course didn’t agree with.

Looking down, Calum saw silver glitter all in Sophie’s hair, giving her a puzzled look, “This glitter wasn’t there earlier, was it?”

“Don’t ask,” Luke huffed as he brought out three plates with pizza on them, “She decided arts n crafts time wasn’t over.”

Calum chuckled, scooping Sophie up so they could sit on the couch and eat their pizza together.  Once dinner was over, Luke showed Calum and Sophie his surprise for her.  It was a bookshelf that Luke had built, that was from floor to ceiling and Sophie was absolutely in love.  Her love of reading outweighed any other passion she had developed growing up, and Luke slightly blamed (and thanked) Calum for it, as he had always read her to sleep, and as she got older that seemed to be the only thing to calm her.  Even if Calum wasn’t there, if Sophie was having a rough night Luke would FaceTime Calum and he would read to her from the stack of childrens books he kept at his house; it never failed to make Sophie fall asleep, and Luke shortly after, leaving Calum to be the one to hang up the call after muttering a quiet ‘Love you’ to the two of them.

“When you’re older, I’ll give you a ladder in here so you can reach the top shelf.  I don’t want you getting any bright ideas about trying to fly, ya hear me?” Luke said, pinching Sophie’s cheek as they stood near her new bookshelf.

“But what about the books up thewe,” Sophie argued back, swatting Luke’s hand away.

“Then me or Uncle Cal can reach up and get them for you cause we’re big and tall, yeah?” He scooped her up, lifting her as high as the tallest shelf so she could see, “No books up there right now right?”

“No books.”

“Guess Daddy is gonna have to get you more, huh?” Calum chimed in, tickling Sophie’s belly while Luke still had her held up.  Her loud giggle echoed through her room, little legs kicking frantically as she asked him to stop.  Calum listened, and once her fit of giggles calmed down, Luke set her down so she could explore the books on her new bookshelf.

“I’m sure she’ll ask you to stay and read to her tonight, just a heads up,” Luke nudged Calum, giving him a smirk, “Plan your escape now.”

“I would never,” Calum gasped, nudging him back, “It’s my favourite thing to do.  Don’t know anyone else who cares to listen to me read to them.”

“I do,” Came Luke’s whisper, causing Calum’s heart to skip a beat, “When she’s having a rough night, it’s definitely hard on me too.  Your voice is soothing.”

“Is that why you usually fall asleep too?”

“Honestly? Yeah, it feels safe so I just pass right out.  Not the best for my neck cause her bed is so small,” Luke chuckled, shifting his gaze to meet Calum’s, “But I love listening to you talk.”

Calum was sure Luke could hear his heart beating rapidly now, and he may have kissed him if his daughter wasn’t standing right there; judging by the way Luke’s eyes darted to Calum’s lips, he may have returned the favor, but they were pulled from their world by a loud yawn falling from Sophie’s lips.

“Getting tired, my love?” Luke asked, turning his attention to his daughter.  When she nodded, Luke cooed softly, wrapping his arms around her and letting her bury her face in his shoulder, “Let’s get your jammies on, okay?”

“Will Uncle Cal wead me stowy?” She asked in a quiet voice, big blue eyes looking up at Calum.

“You know the answer is always yes angel.  I’ll be just outside, once you’re settled in your jammies you can pick a story.”

Sophie called Calum back in once she had gotten changed, and Luke made sure to tuck her in and give her a kiss, letting Calum take over with the storytime.  Before Calum dove into the book, Sophie pulled a folded red piece of paper out of her pocket.

“What’s this, lovie?” He asked with a smile, taking it as she handed it to him.

“You give to Daddy,” She said, encouraging him to unfold it.

“Didn’t your Daddy already get a Valentine from you?” Calum chuckled, unfolding the paper to see it covered with silver glitter and shakily drawn hearts.  The silver glitter in her hair makes sense now.

“You give to him,” She repeated, pointing at the ‘to:’ and ‘from:’ written in Luke’s handwriting left blank.  Luke must have assumed Sophie wanted to give it to him, so he wrote on the card for her and was going to let her attempt to write Calum’s name.

“Okay, okay,” he laughed softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead and setting it on her bedside table, “I promise I will.”

Calum proceeded to read to her until she fell asleep, which wasn’t very long after he started the book.  He smiled down at her when he realized she was fully asleep, pressing one more gentle kiss to the top of her head before he slid off the bed, carefully placing the book on the shelf.  Once he dimmed her light into the nightlight she liked, he picked up the Valentine and headed out of her room and down the hall to where Luke’s room was.

“Hey,” Calum called out softly, “She’s out, I dimmed her lights and left her door cracked just in case.  I should head out before it gets too late.”

Luke said a small thank you, before calling out to Calum again, “Tell me a story.”

With a small smile on his lips, Calum leaned against the doorframe, “Sophie really is your twin huh.”

Luke pulled the covers back, patting the spot next to him so Calum could crawl in, “What’s so bad about that? Aren’t I a delight?”

“You’re somethin’ alright.”

Calum just barely caught the pillow that was thrown at him, bursting out in a fit of laughter as he did so.  Crawling into the spot next to Luke, he laid on his side facing him and propped himself up on his elbow, “What kind of story do you wanna hear?”

“It’s almost Valentine’s Day, tell me a love story.”

Calum thought for a moment, an idea coming to mind as he chewed on his lower lip, “Once upon a time there were two boys… Well, four technically, but this story is about the two of them,” he began nervously.  “They formed a band with two of their other friends, and got to tour the world, seeing the sights.”

“Sounds like a fun story.”

“Sh, Sophie never interrupts,” He scolded, poking his finger against Luke’s chest, “As they got older, and became men, they all began to find love.  The two band members found forever love, while the two men in our story only found temporary love.  That is, until an angel arrived, and she showed the men that forever love isn’t always romantic.  Time went on, and the angel no longer needed one of the men as much, so he carried on with his life outside of them.  But one thing he always thought about was the man caring for the angel, and how much he missed spending every waking hour with him, and the angel too.  Slowly, he began to realize that his forever love was right there all along, they both were just caught up in protecting the angel that he was too blind to see it.”

Luke wasn’t breathing, and Calum was nervous that he was taking it the wrong way, until he met Luke’s eyes and saw them brimming with tears, then he really knew he fucked up.  “I’m sorry, fuck Luke I’m sorry.  I should have just told you, not like this-”

He was cut off by Luke’s lips meeting his in a sweet, delicate kiss, “Shut up.  What happens next in the story,” he whispered against Calum’s lips.

“Once they admitted their feelings, they shared a kiss… and lived happily ever after,” Calum smiled, pressing another chaste kiss to Luke’s lips, “I love you.  I think I always have, but I wanted to give you space to heal.”

“Both you and Sophie healed me.  I’ve known for a long time I loved you, but I was scared that I was just in love with the idea of having someone else around.  That’s not the case, though, because I want you, as well as want you to be around.  And I’m sure Sophie wouldn’t complain about you being around longer.”

Pulling the folded Valentine out of his pocket, he handed it to Luke, “Wanna be my Valentine?”

Luke’s mouth fell open, a laugh escaping his lips, “I thought she wanted to give that to you!”

Calum shook his head, “Nope.  She wanted me to give it to you.”

Luke shook his head, squeezing Calum closer, “I’ll be yours if you be mine.”

tag list:  @talkfastromance4​ @calmlftv​ @notinthesameguey​ @loveroflrh​ @mantlereid​ @irwinkitten​ @n-ctarinenga​ @ashtonlftv​ @blackbutterfliescal​ @monimickell​ @treatallwithkindness​ @castaway-cashton​ @tea4sykes​ @begluketostay​ @wheniminouterspace​ @another-lonely-heart​ @myfavfanficsever​ @xsongxbirdx​ @stardust-galaxies​ @karajaynetoday​ @bestyearssos​ @cheekysos​ @suchalonelysunflower​ @aquarius-hood1996​ @wildflower-cth​​ @youngblood199456​​ @uh-huhh-honey​​ @myloverboyash​ @cakelftv​ @f-mu​ @thatscooibaby​ @hoodhoran​ @sexgodashton​ @wildflower-cth​ @becihadshawn

[t-lostinworlds]

...and Action! (Tom Holland)

A/N: This was not planned at all. i wasn’t going to do a birthday fic ‘cause i have no idea what to write and birthday surprises can be so redundant (since i’ve written two of it already lmao) but then this idea came to me this morning and here we are a couple hours later. Wrote this quickly so bear with me aha. Hope you still like it! x

Pairing: Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Summary: It was Tom’s birthday, a surprise shouldn't be at all surprising. But he never expected his girlfriend to pop-up in the most unlikely way while on set.

Warnings: Just fluff really and a bit of a steamy moment in the end?

Word Count: 3.1k+

Masterlist in Bio

-:-:-:-:-

"No, no, it's okay love, don't worry about it. Yeah, thank you darling, and yes, I'll try and have fun. I love you too sweetheart. Okay, I'll see you soon, bye..."

Tom lets out a groan after he hung up, throwing his phone on the pillow before his whole body plopped down on the hotel bed with a soft thud.

"Who was that?" Harry asked, feigning concern by his brother's sudden change in mood as he tried his best to keep a steady face.

"Y/N. Something came up with work and she couldn't fly out here. She's not coming for my birthday," Tom answered dejectedly. Though his face was covered with both hands, the sadness in his voice was too obvious to miss.

"I'm sure she tried her best Tom," his brother reassured, small smile plastered on his lips.

"I know. It's just—it's so last minute and I was looking forward to seeing her today since I haven't seen her in months," Tom shot his brother a frown. "I just really miss her man," he added.

It wouldn't be such a big deal to him if it wasn't so sudden, if he had time to prepare for it basically. Tom was already getting ready to pick you up at the airport, excitement filling him up head to toe. But with an hour and a half to go, you suddenly called and said you couldn't make it. To say that his heart dropped in the pit of his stomach at the news would be a huge understatement.

You were apologizing profusely on the other line, voice filled with regret saying how it was out of your control and Tom does understand. You have a life too after all, but it doesn't make him feel any less disappointed by the whole thing.

"Want to walk around the city for the meantime?" Harry proposed as he sat on the edge of the bed, giving his brother a comforting pat on the leg.

"Let's just go to set a bit early," Tom sighed, flashing Harry a small smile. He then stood up from his place begrudgingly, heading to the en suite to pack his essentials for today's shoot.

The plan was now completely thrown out the window. He was supposed to meet you at the airport, bring you back to the hotel for you to settle your things, and then you'll go together to set so that you can watch what he does for a living. And to have you there would've been an added energy boost, his cheerleader as you've said that one time.

But with you still in London and him in New York, there was no possible way that it could happen now. Unless you teleported which was highly unlikely.

Tom will have to celebrate the day with you miles away, as heartbreaking as that sounds.

***

"Ready to go?"

Tom only answered his brother with a hum and a nod, energy at a low given that his excitement was robbed away from him.

Harry did feel kind of bad to see his brother so down, and he was itching to say something. But with that said, he's more scared of you than Tom, and he wouldn't want to be the one to ruin everything, so he kept his mouth shut.

Once inside the cab, Tom sat at the very corner with a sigh, head pressed against the window, all overly dramatic that Harry tried his best to suppress a laugh.

Pulling out his phone, the younger brother then quickly typed in the text and hit send, making sure he was being discreet as possible to not spoil the surprise.

Message to Y/N: We're in the car now. I already told the front desk to give you the key then you can put your things in his room. I'll meet you on set later.

Tom had no idea what's in store for him.

***

"Harry! I missed you, you dork. How's he doing?" you greeted with glee as you got off the couch of the make-up trailer to give the younger brother a warm hug, him returning the gesture with just as much enthusiasm.

"Missed you too. And he's still moping. He has no idea you're here, at all," Harry chuckled as he pulled away.

You couldn't help but frown a little at that. Of course you feel bad, it was his special day and the first thing he's heard wasn't the greatest of news. But then again, every birthday always has a surprise. His wasn't an exception.

"Right, how do I look?" you asked, gesturing towards yourself from head to toe. It was a waitress' uniform what you wore, your hair up in a ponytail with a visor to hide your face just a little. The fabric from head to toe was a shade of light pink, save for the shoes and apron that were both white.

"A little different, but still recognizable," Harry pointed out with a knowing smile. "He won't be able to tell it's you right away though, the mask doesn't let him see much," he added with a chuckle.

"Good, great... okay wow, why am I suddenly nervous?" you laughed shyly, bouncing on your toes anxiously despite your task being as simple as holding onto him.

You've already talked to Jon Watts on what needs to be done. In fact, he was the one who pitched the idea in the first place. You were supposed to go for the typical pop-up with a cake when everything was wrapped for the day. But Harry accidentally spilt the plan on Jon who then got excited and offered an alternative route, which wasn't at all simple for sure but it would be great fun if it worked.

Then it resulted to the planning, Tom's manager getting involved, and then the crew helped you test it out and rehearsed it earlier this morning. Preparing was a bit of a handful but Jon was enthusiastic all throughout, saying that he wanted to surprise Tom in a not-so-normal way.

Quite frankly, most of everyone was in on it. Except Tom of course, just as he always is, in the dark with most things.

"Don't worry, you'll do great," Harry chuckled as he gave you a side-hug, giving your shoulder a comforting squeeze before making his way towards the door. "I need to get back to Tom before he gets suspicious. I think you're going to get called to set in a bit."

"Okay, see you Harry."

***

"Tom, last scene for the day and then you're through," Jon said, shooting the lad a sympathetic smile at the tiredness that was obvious on his face.

Tom nodded with a small smile of his own. He was slightly confused because the scene before this was supposed to be his last, but you never know with Marvel. New things get added even at the last minute.

"It's just a short scene, you're simply going to swoop in and save a woman who's about to get hit by fallen debris. And then when she thanks you and runs the other way, you then look up all shock and then cut," the director elaborated, Tom quick to get the drift given that he was already hooked up to wires, and that he's done this countless of time before.

Thankfully, due to movie magic, they don't need to do the actual swooping off the ground, just the swing with the women already in his arms and then him placing her back on the floor, said woman whom Tom has yet to meet.

Tom was quickly ushered to his place on top of a tall platform, and after he's put on the mask—with a bit of help—just then he noticed a figure standing right next to him who stayed awfully silent and still.

Maybe she's just shy.

"Hi, I'm Tom," he introduced sweetly, completely having no clue that it was his girlfriend he's talking to.

"Hello, big fan," you answered softly as you changed the tone of your voice a little. Your nerves were eating you up in fear that he might recognize you—and the fact that you were so high up, but you were hooked up to wires too, so it's all good—but you also can't hide your excitement given that Tom was right here beside you, finally after so long.

You wanted to just hug him, to pull him close and kiss the living daylights out of him, but composure and control is key as it is not the time for the reveal just yet.

"Right just hold on to me," he spoke kindly and you couldn't stop the grin from erupting on your lips as your wrapped your arms around his shoulders, very much amused at the fact that he still has no clue despite being so close now. Maybe it was the suit constricting his senses.

"Good, hold tight and don't look down," he playfully added.

"Ready!" One of the crew yelled, you and Tom putting your thumbs up at the exact same time.

"We are rolling... and action!"

With only one arm wrapped around your waist as the other pretended to take hold on to his web, Tom jumped. No hesitation, no warning, no countdown, just pure confidence as he full on jumped.

The short squeal you let out was quite embarrassing as you held onto him tighter, wind moving pass your face in top speed that you couldn't bear to keep your eyes open. It was only five seconds tops that you stayed in air, your feet touching the ground in no time. But still, your heart hammered against your chest loud and fast, a pure rush of adrenaline coursing through you despite already having done this a couple of time just hours before.

"Are you okay?" Tom asked, Queens accent now in full play as he lets go of your waist to hold you in arm's length. You kept your head low as you nodded, acting your best on being out of breath and a little shaken—which wasn't that hard since that genuinely was a high swing.

"Y-yes, thank you for saving me Spider-Boy," you spoke in the squeakiest tone you can muster, still trying your best to hide your real voice just to play with him for a little more.

"Uh, it's Spider-Man," he corrected unknowingly, the confusion clear in his voice because Jon's instructions weren't being followed, but he can improvise.

"I don't think you're there yet though," you answered normally this time, Tom's whole body going rigid at the sound of the familiar voice.

Both his hands lets go of your shoulders in a haste as he swiftly pulled his mask off, eyes growing wider once it landed on your beautiful face.

"No way," he gasped, stumbling back away from you in utter surprise, hands going on top of his head to tug at his hair as he tries to comprehend what was going on, if what he was seeing was real. It felt like he's just seen a ghost, one gorgeous ghost that is.

"Hi there birthday boy," you giggled, the whole set erupting in cheers and wolf whistles while Tom still kept a fair distance from you. He was completely awestruck at the sight of you standing there, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as his brain tried to process everything.

"I—what?" He looked around set in pure bewilderment, his eyes meeting his brother's who only gave him two thumbs up, that's when he realized Harry was in on it too. Tom shook his head before looking back at you, tears now starting to well up in his eyes as he jutted his bottom lip out in a cute pout.

"Do I not get a hug?" you teased as you opened your arms wide. The boy didn't waste any more time as he ran towards you just like how they do in movies, he's an actor after all. He didn't even bother to put his brakes a little as he jumped into your arms. A soft 'oomph' came out of you at the impact, quickly followed by hearty laugh as you wrapped your arms around him, sighs of reliefs coming out of the both of you at the familiar feeling of warmth.

"It's actually you," Tom whispered as he buried his face on the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin and his grip around you tightening sweetly, your familiar scent filling him up with nothing but joy.

"Of course it is. Did you really think they'd find someone who looks exactly like me?" you flashed him a wide smile as you pulled away a little just to get a better look at him. Tom mirrored your grin as he rested his forehead against yours, eyes coated with adoration as it stared right into your own, and oh how much you've missed this boy.

"No, because you're one of a kind," Tom gushed, grin all wide as he nudges the tip of his nose with yours lovingly, just so glad to finally be so close to you after being away for far too long, to feel the softness of your skin after months of being deprived from it.

"That was so cheesy," Jon interrupted with his megaphone, tone playful which was soon followed by laughter echoing around the whole space.

Tom groaned, head falling softly on your shoulder in an attempt to hide the shade of red on his face, completely forgetting that you were still on set surrounded with a bunch of crew members. He had no problem being cheesy, but those lines were saved for only you and him, so when other people gets a chance to hear them unintentionally, Tom can't help and get all shy about it.

You rubbed his back with a giggle, turning to place a soft kiss on the side of his head making your boy let out a satisfied hum, Tom squeezing your waist in response.

"Right you two, let's start from the top and get this done so that you can go off to your little honeymoon," the director called out again, laughter obvious in his voice.

"Wait is this scene actually going to be in the movie?" Tom called out to Jon. "Yes, but don't take of your mask. And except for the part where you run off looking all scared of her, and then the part where you looked like you were about to cry and—"

"Got it Jon!"

With that, you two were back on the platform again, Tom sporting a wide ass grin as he never did take his eyes off of you, not even for a split second.

"Quit staring," you muttered with a pursed of your lips, cheeks heating up at the attention he was showering you. He only answered with a sweet laugh, leaning closer to give you a peck on the temple that's made your heart melt.

"Are you okay sweetheart? You look a bit nervous for someone who's already done it once," Tom teased, noticing how deep you we're taking in your breaths.

"I auditioned for this part months ago Tom, I have to do my best," you grumbled, face all serious that made him furrow his brows at you in question. "Wait, really?"

"No," you puffed out your cheeks with a laugh. "See, this is why it was so easy to surprise you. You are so gullible," you teased, earning a scoff from your man.

"Shut up and just let me save you from distress," Tom retorted with a light-hearted tone, shooting you a playful eye roll before he puts the mask back on, but never did he deny your statement.

Once everything was ready and set, you did the scene again, but without the extra shenanigans this time.

***

The party was a blast.

Granted, it wasn't all extravagant or over-the-top, it was just simple, a casual dine and drink. But when you spend it with the right people then it will always turn out better than expected.

A small local restaurant was pleased to host it, food and drinks delicious, ambiance great, and company even better. But as the night took its course however, especially with all the alcohol in his system, Tom hasn't been able to keep his hands to himself.

His smile was casual as he kept his end of the conversation with the people around him. But you knew better, especially with his hand going up—too high up—and down your leg in a way that wasn't good for your sanity. And the fact that you wore only tights paired with a skirt wasn't at all helping your case.

He was the one who called it a night for the both of you soon after. The moment you placed your hands on top his bulge as payback, he just lost it completely.

Once the door of his hotel room was shut close with the click of the lock to match, he was onto you in a split second. His lips were pressed on yours in a searing, hungry kiss, hands touching everywhere just so he could pull you as close as he possibly could.

"I missed you so much," he groaned between the kiss, hand gripping on your waist as he stirs you towards the bed. But you had a plan for the night too, so you quickly turned around and pushed him back instead, Tom landing on the edge of the mattress with surprise written on his face but pure fire swimming in his eyes.

You leaned down to kiss him again, only slowly, teasingly this time. You raked your fingernails up and down his jeans, the feeling already making Tom feel ecstatic and hot as he lets out another low groan. But before he could lift a hand up to bring you down to him, you pulled away with a knowing smile, slight mischief laced on your lips but more of it found in your eyes.

"What do you have in mind love?" Tom asked, voice a deep grumble as he watched your every move with intent. With your palm flat against his chest, you pushed him back a little more, up until he leaned back on his hands, whole body now spread out, and what a tasteful sight it was. You leaned forward towards him with a sweet smile, both hands resting palms flat on his jean clad thighs.

"The birthday boy deserves a private show, don't you think?" you whispered in a honeyed tone, tilting your head to the side as you gave his thick thighs a playful squeeze.

Tom lets out a shaky breath at that, eyes raking up and down your body, making sure he wasn't discrete about it before he met your gaze again, eyes coated with lust just as much as yours are.

With a pleased smirk, Tom opened his legs wider for you to easily slip in between them, voice deep and gravelly as he said,

"Sounds wonderful, darling."

-:-:-:-:-

Like, Reblog, and Leave a Comment if you enjoyed and lemme know what you think! x

Tom H. Taglist: @spacebitch2 @hollanddolanfangirl @keepingupwiththehollands @hollandsamor @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @unbelievableholland @vinylmendes @kittenruby

send me a message/ask if you want to be added/removed to the tom h. taglist loves!

[arieswonjin]

of lunchboxes and honor students (high school au)

pairings: ahn seongmin x reader

genre: fluff, high school au, best friend au

word count: 858

warnings: none

song inspo: not incorporated into the plot per se but invisible string really reminds me of seongmin. strong soulmate au energy <3 

masterlist | request here! | how to request |

ahn seongmin was intimidating. not in the mean and obnoxious type of way. he was intimidating because he was just too perfect. he came to school at 7 am with what seemed like noontime energy and went home looking as good as he did in the morning. how was that even possible?

“he’s an honor student, too. top of his class.” your friend whispered to you as you put your trays down on the cafeteria table. you, on the other hand, were trying your best not to appear too obvious as you peered over at the far end of the room where seongmin sat, laughing with his classmates and a few upperclassmen.

“that’s not surprising.” you picked at your lunch distractedly. “doesn’t he go to a dance academy, too?”

“why are you asking about him, y/n?” your friend wiggled her eyebrows at you at which you just rolled your eyes. if anything, after hearing about him, you were enthusiastically asking about ahn seongmin because you wanted be him, not be with him.

“shut up. i just don’t want to look dumb. he’s my lab partner this year. the whole year! you know how anxious i get during lab.”    

“lucky you. you can expect an A, then.” your friend stole a piece of meat from your plate and winked at you knowingly. it paid to have a friend who was in the same club as seongmin, but her teasing was really something else. you were worried she would tell him about your questions and he would end up getting the wrong idea.

“tch. hurry up so we can go to the lost and found.”

your plate empty after just a few mouthfuls, you shook the thoughts of ahn seongmin away and now thought about a lost item you’ve been searching for for a few days now. you dreaded the scolding you’d get from your mom if the said item stayed lost. yes, it was that serious. “…i must’ve left it in the gym somewhere.”

“good morning, y/n! aren’t you a bit too early today? i think you just set a personal record.” seongmin sat beside you on the front row of a still-empty laboratory, smiling and genuinely surprised at seeing you already solving equations and collecting lab equipment.

a few weeks of lab with him guaranteed you a new daily human vitamin and zero unnecessary stress from unproductive pair works. who knew you two were going to hit it off that quickly? he even treated you to an adorable street cafe a few times after class, saying you deserved it after working on your reports for two all-nighters in a row. in return, you would bring him your mother’s red bean rice cakes and ate them with him before class started. you still thought he was intimidating but that side of him only came out when he was immersed in work. otherwise, he really was effortlessly pleasant.

“seongmin, you arrive an hour before class. if i got here any later, you’d have finished all our remaining work by yourself.”

“so? you’ve worked hard enough.” he assured you and turned back to pull his notebook from inside his bag. “oh, before i forget. here!”

he pulled a smaller bag from inside his backpack and pushed it towards you, nudging you to open it. the bag was warm and the room started to smell heavenly as soon as you pulled on the bag’s zipper. why was he showing you his lunchbox?

“you eat these kinds of food, right? the left portion is kimchi fried rice with spam and there are meatballs on the right. ah, this bag was recommended by one of my hyungs. you know those things that make your food stay warm? lunch is still at 12 so that will probably be warm until then. oh, there’s soup inside the thermos, too. you don’t have to return the bag, okay? y/f/n told me you lost your lunchbox a few weeks ag—“

“she did what now?” you mentally cursed your friend for being such an over-sharer, but seongmin continued to explain his small gift, making you forget about anything else.

“she just mentioned it really! oh, i slipped in a few of those coffee candies somewhere inside there for when exams come. those really work for me. i hope they work for you, too, y/n.” he finished with a wide smile and quickly adjusted his spectacles.

“i know i’ve called you smart, but have i ever called you cute?” looking at the contents of the small lunchbox he brought, you can’t help but smile at how a lost item came back tenfold, with good food and a good friend to accompany it.

“…i don’t think so?” seongmin sat there, seemingly daring you to not say what you were about to say.

“well, then. i’m calling you cute right now. i can’t believe i ever thought you were scary.”

“pfft. i can be scary.” the shift in seongmin’s facial expression was convincing but still laughable now that you had a grasp of his personality. 

“sure. let’s say that’s true.” you shoved a meatball into his mouth to block any of his retorts and your laughter echoed off the walls of the empty laboratory. school mornings with ahn seongmin truly were becoming the highlight of your sophomore year.  

a/n: four fluff works in a row? i need me some heartbreak stat. 

anyways, it took 3 months but i can finally say i’ve written for all 9 members! <3 i also have a few works in progress which i’m excited for T^T drop by my asks to chat or to request <3 see you around! 

[mrslilyrogers]

Betrayal Part 1

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: (AU) Set in New York. You and Bucky have been married for 5 years. He’s the love of your life and you are his. At least, you thought you were until he started slipping away from you, coming home late and smelling of another woman’s perfume? You are in denial. Are you just losing your mind or are you really losing him? 

A/N: Hi! I’m new here and still figuring out tumblr. I have no idea how all this goes! This is the first ever story I’m posting online. I just couldn’t get the idea out of my head and would like to share it with all of you! Quarantine’s finally given me time to get over posting online, lol. Please comment away whatever you think of the story! This is a very angsty fic! hope you enjoy :) 

Warnings: ANGST, CHEATING

She turned in bed flinging her arm out expecting Bucky to be beside her as her groggy mind pulled her back into sleep, only to have her hand bounce back on the empty mattress. Her arm fished farther out, trying to find him in the dark but still, it was empty. Confused, she slowly opened her eyes to blink the sleep away, he wasn’t home. She shot up as the realization hit her and glanced at the clock, its red glaring lights mocking her. 4:25 AM. 

Bucky didn’t come home. 

She swallowed as a lump formed in her throat. The first few nights he kept coming home late, she waited for him, asked how his day was, what took him so long at work and he’d usually dismiss her with a kiss and her favorite crooked smile as he cuddled up to her in bed making her forget all her worries. Even up until now, after five years of being married, he still had that effect on her. One glance her way with his smirk and she’d still feel her heart flip inside her chest. Whenever he hoisted Lizzie up in the air making her giggle, Y/N was sure her heart was shining in her eyes as she watched them. 

And now this. 

She knew the first time he told her not to wait up, something was off. He kept coming home later than usual and when he did come home, he smelled of alcohol and as much as Y/N would like to deny it, perfume. A perfume that distinctly wasn’t hers. Instead of confronting him about it, she denied it to herself, closing herself off to the truth that was becoming more and more obvious as the days went on. Instead, she took extra efforts to please him, waking up early to cook his favorite breakfast, preparing his favorite dishes for dinner even though he barely came home for it, trying to pass by his office at lunch so they could spend time together. All the while hoping he would stay and come back to her, come back to being her Bucky. 

She wiped the tears that started to drip down her eyes. “Where did it all go wrong? What have I done to deserve this?” A sob came out as soon as she allowed herself to accept the truth. She brought her knees up to her chest and buried her face in between, hugging herself, trying to make herself as small as possible as sobs wracked her body. She cried for Bucky, cried for their family, cried for herself because somewhere in the process, she lost her pride and accepted whatever affection he could afford to give her, like a dog trying to please its owner, and never demanding what she deserved. She might have stayed like that for an hour or more but she knew that if she continued on, Lizzie would wake up and find her mother crying her eyes out and that’s the last thing she wanted. Lizzie, oh god, Lizzie what was she going to do with her sweet daughter? She could accept Bucky cheating on her, neglecting her even but for their daughter, it was unacceptable, she was only four, she did not deserve this. Yet, she was the collateral damage to the shambles of their marriage.  The thought made her head hurt, she scrambled out of bed, needing to do something or she’d wallow in self pity and she needed to be strong for her daughter, always for her daughter, even if it meant living in a delusion to keep her family together. She heard footsteps at the stairs of their apartment and quickly grabbed her phone by the bedside table and ran to the bathroom. She leaned against the door, sighing, listening to him shuffling in the bedroom. 

“Y/N, you in there? Sorry, fell asleep on Steve’s couch.” Bucky called from the door, no trace of guilt in his voice. Y/N just closed her eyes and sighed. 

“About to take a bath!” She replied and checked her phone. No messages from him whatsoever that he’d be at Steve’s apartment. She quickly tried to hide her hurt to take on the day. For her sanity, for Lizzie, the mantra kept repeating itself in her head. 

_______________________________________________________________________

“Mommy, why can’t I have cereal?” Lizzie whined from her seat at the counter as Y/N poured her orange juice. 

“Yeah, why can’t she have cereal?” Bucky strode in playfully, the scent of his after shave filling Y/N’s senses, making tears prick at her eyes. She quickly turned around and faced the coffee pot, pouring more into her mug. She couldn’t stand to be near him after accepting the truth. She couldn’t face their situation, not yet. 

“Daddy!” Lizzie chirped, already lifting her arms for a hug from her self-proclaimed superhero dad. 

“How’s my little girl this morning?” He said lifting her up and kissing her cheek which only made her giggle. 

“Eat your vegetables, squirt.” Bucky reminded her a little more seriously but with a charming smile nonetheless, and Lizzie, who worships the ground he walks on, eagerly nibbled on the beans from her plate trying to please him. Just like her mother, Y/N thought sarcastically. 

She was still turned away from the counter when she felt Bucky sidling up behind her, his arms snaking around her waist, pulling her in to kiss her hair. 

“Morning, babe,” 

“Morning Buck,” She cleared her throat and moved away from him, standing in front of her daughter who was eating her breakfast far more enthusiastically than when her dad wasn’t around. God, this was a mess, what was she going to do? Lizzie clearly adored her father and if she were being honest with herself, she didn’t know how to live without Bucky. 

Bucky saw the glassy look in Y/N’s eyes as she stared at their daughter, her hands fiddling in front of her and he instantly knew it was on him. He brought that look on her face, guilt and remorse punched him in the gut. 

“Hey,” he said soothingly putting his hand on her back as he was about to apologize about last night. 

“Lizzie, drink your juice, daddy will bring you to school,” Y/N flinched away from him, starting to flee the room. 

“I gotta go,” She told him, grabbing her bag from the counter, and kissing their daughter on the cheek before heading out. She didn’t glance at him or give him his kiss goodbye like she usually did and instead, avoided looking at him. He froze, feeling the fear creep up on him. She didn’t know, did she? 

“Bye Mommy!” Lizzie waved from her chair as Y/N got to the door. She turned around with a genuine smile on her face. God, she was beautiful when she smiled like that, and he missed it, he missed her and he hadn’t even realized it. 

“Bye baby,” she said as she blew her a kiss. She cleared her throat and her expression blanked when she turned to him. 

“Buck, don’t forget to pick her up today,”

“Today?” She usually picked Lizzie up from school, being the owner of a quaint little cafe, Winter Bakery, giving her the flexibility in schedule to do so. He had work to do and he was gonna meet up with Celeste around that time. The immediate thought of the woman he was seeing brought shame and guilt to his conscience, making him lash out at her. 

“I can’t, you know I have work,” he said a little too accusingly. 

Y/N just closed her eyes and exhaled harshly, trying to reign in her control. 

“Daddy, don’t you want to pick me up?” Lizzie asked sadly and Bucky felt all his anger vanish as he saw his little girl’s fallen face.

“Of course not, sweetie, I just--” 

“Bucky, we’ve been through this, I’m trying to land this catering gig for Stark, remember?” Y/N’s defeated voice rose above his and he immediately felt sorry, god, he was the worst husband. 

Sure, it was just a little get together for the birthday of Tony Stark’s daughter but it was a big deal to Y/N. She had met Pepper in Lizzie’s school as they waited for their pre-schoolers to be dismissed and instantly became friends. At first, Y/N was starstruck with Pepper especially when she discovered that she was a hands-on mom, while running Stark Industries at the same time but she was such a down-to-earth woman matched with a witty sense of humor that it was hard to lose any topic of conversation with her. Of course, it helped that Lizzie and Morgan had become the best of friends even on just the first day of school. Next thing they knew, they were spending play dates at the bakery when the girls insisted on hanging out. That’s when Pepper discovered Y/N’s cupcakes and raved to Tony that, “they were absolutely the best she’s ever had”. Of course with Tony being Tony, wanting only the best for his daughter, set up a taste test meeting for his daughter’s birthday, insisting on trying every single flavor of cake and cupcake she could make, and not just a take-out of the best sellers, like Pepper had suggested. They weren’t just going to settle for the best sellers like some sheep following the herd. “His words, not mine” Pepper had said and having the Tony Stark to be Y/N’s first customer for her first ever catering gig would mean a lot for her business. Only recently has she decided to expand it and she felt like she’s talked Bucky’s ears off with her plans and here he was, seemingly having forgotten the day she’s most talked about. She wasn’t even angry with him, she was just disappointed and not even a little bit surprised. 

“Oh shit, babe, I’m sorry I forgot,” Bucky immediately went to her and enveloped her in a hug and she hated herself for loving the feel of his arms around her.

“Promise, I’ll make it up to you,” he whispered but she didn’t believe him, she was over his empty promises.

“Just pick Lizzie up,” She said before she left the door with not a glance back.

Part 2

[hydroponicjj]

pinky promise

pairing: jj maybank x reader

word count: 3.1k (i’ve never written anything this long before lmao)

warnings: swearing

summary: your birthday takes place over quarantine and because you can’t have an actual birthday party, the pogues host a netflix party for you but an unexpected guest joins which ruins the mood. jj decides to cheer you up from a distance.

a/n: hello!! i know i’ve been a little m.i.a. but, i promise that i’m back. send me some outer banks requests and i’ll be happy to do them (no smut pls) also, if you’ve sent a request recently, i’m working on em :) gif credit goes to hvitstark!!!

y/n/n “your nickname”

                      「 ₊˚.༄ 」

When summer first began, you as well as the rest of the pogues were overwhelmed with excitement. You didn't have to do homework, get stressed with school, take exams. Nothing.

The plans weren't set in stone but all of you had a general idea of what you’d do from day to day. From surfing to eating at The Wreck, there was nothing that could stop you and your friends from having the best summer ever.

All of you had seen news articles, talking about a deadly virus entering the United States. It first appeared in Washington, then slowly started to spread around the vicinity. But no one in the Outer Banks of North Carolina was concerned.

So, the beginning of summer break started with absolutely no delay.

After the first couple of weeks of the virus spreading across the country, slowly but surely, you watched as people started to get worried. It got to the point were you mother was cautioning you before going to hang out with the rest of the pogues.

“I pinky promise that I’ll be safe!” You’d tease before going outside and hopping into John B’s Volkswagen.

When you hopped into the back of the van, you noticed the disappointed looks on everyone’s faces while Pope was rambling (like he usually does).

“I really think that we should start to prepare because I think that this virus is very similar to the Black Death.” He finished, taking a deep breath.

“What’s up?” You greeted, raised eyebrows in confusion.

Pope smiled enthusiastically and gave you a warm welcome while the others groaned like a walker from The Walking Dead.

“What are you babbling on about today, Mr.Heyward?” You questioned.

“He literally won’t shut up about this stupid virus!” Kiara answered for him, resting her head on the window as she sat in the front seat.

“Neither will my mom. She’s all worked about this and telling me to ‘be safe’ before leaving the house.” You explained.

“It’s not like we know anyone that’s sick.” John B shrugged, starting the van.

Seconds later, JJ started to have a coughing attack. He literally couldn’t stop, even after he had multiple sips of water.

Both you and Pope moved to the corner farthest away from him, you were laughing because you knew JJ and his personality while Pope was terrified.

“Holy shit, he has it.” He whispered in your ear, eyes as big as a Watermelon.

“He’s about to cough up a lung.” Kie commented, turning around to see the blonde flopping around like a fish.

After a few more seconds, JJ recovered from his coughing attack and sat up, a huge smile plastered on his face.

“Not funny!” Pope screamed, kicking the bottom of his foot.

“You should have seen your face, it was priceless.” He chuckled.

You crawled over to JJ and rested your head in his lap, arms crossed over your stomach as you cackled, “Oh my gosh, that was hilarious.” You raised your hand and gave him a high five, intertwining for fingers and bringing it back down to your chest.

“I only did it because Pope needs a reality check. In a couple weeks everything will be fine.” He sighed, using his other hand to take the lighter out of his pocket and light the blunt between his teeth.

Before he could, you held out your left hand which was your way of asking him to place the items in your palm because no one was interested in getting a contact high at 2 pm.

Usually the rest of the pogues would snatch it from him but you were different. You didn’t feel comfortable being rough with him because you knew about his life at home and you didn’t want to set him off.

That was one of the many things that JJ appreciated about you. You were gentle with him and always took your time, not wanting to him to feel rushed. So, he always complied when you asked.

“Fuck it, I’m taking all the toilet paper.” Pope commented out of context, causing everyone to laugh.

                      「 ₊˚.༄ 」

Fast forward one week later and your entire life has flipped upside down.

Covid-19 shut down absolutely everything. Kie and her family were forced to close down The Wreck because they couldn't take the risk of hurting any customers or members of the staff.

All of your friends were separated, except for JJ and John B because they quarantined together, not wanting to be alone during this time.

To be honest, you missed everyone, especially JJ because the two of you always gravitated towards each other so it was pretty hard to be separate from him.

To stay connected with each other, you all texted in the shared group chat and had group facetime’s and netflix parties almost every single night.

John B insisted on inviting Sarah and you didn’t know how to feel about it. Sarah and Kie did squash their beef but, she told you all of the things that happened and it really rubbed you the wrong way. But, you wanted John B to be happy, no matter who it was with.

“Holy shit, y/n/n your birthday is in 2 days!” JJ noticed while the two of you were on facetime. John B was busy talking to Sarah so, he called you to pass the time.

“Yeah.” You replied, unenthusiasticlly.

“I know it sucks that we’re in quarantine but, I promise we’ll have a group facetime and you can pick the movie.” He smiled, you didn’t even have to elaborate on why you were sad because he knew you that well.

“Wait for real?” You laughed.

Listen, everyone has different taste when it comes to movies so, every time that you’re doing a netflix party, it’s really hard to decide on a movie that all of the pogues can enjoy.

“Okay, now I’m excited. This is going to be so fun!” You screeched, clapping your hands together.

“Shit, John B’s calling me. I’ve gotta go but, keep that same enthusiasm, okay?” He replied, smiling into the camera.

“Pinky promise.” You gave him the biggest grin known to man before hanging up.

                      「 ₊˚.༄ 」

Exactly two days later, you woke up to your mom towering over you with a cake in her hands, “Happy 17th birthday, y/n/n!” She took JJ’s lighter that was sitting on your nightstand and lit the ‘17’ on the cake.

“Woah!” You said, rubbing your eyes. It was still pretty early in the morning and you couldn’t fully comprehend what was going on.

“Thank you so much.” You sat up in your bed, making room for your mother to sit.

“Make a wish.” She encouraged, taking out her phone to capture the moment.

“I wish that I have the best day ever, despite not being about to see my friends.” and with that, you blew out the candles, smiling up at your mom.

“Awe were you recording that?” You smiled, covering your face.

“I was gonna send it to your friends,” She paused, “Speaking of them, are you gonna uh... party on neflix tonight?” She squinted.

You chuckled, your mom really wasn’t as aquatinted with technology as other parents, “Yeah, the 5 of us are gonna watch a movie on facetime. I promise to keep it down.”

“Thank you. I’m gonna go start on breakfast. I’ll call you when it’s finished.” She left your room, leaving the door cracked slightly.

After a few seconds of staring off into space, you checked your phone like you always do when you wake up and your phone was filled with notifications.

Your smiled from ear to ear. Unlike the average kook, you weren’t very popular but that didn’t matter because you had 4 of the best people on planet earth as your best friends.

The first thing that you checked was Instagram. You tapped through the stories that you were tagged in and were met with some of the best memories that were caught on camera.

From the time you accidentally set off the sprinklers at The Wreck, getting all of the customers wet as they were leaving to the time that you got stuck at the top of the monkey bars at your old elementary school and JJ had to come and save you.

You almost started crying because you hadn’t been apart from any of your friends for more that 12 hours and even though it’s only been a week, it felt like forvever.

Before you responded to the countless amount of texts from your aunts and uncles, you texted the group chat and gushed to them about how thankful you were that they all posted something in honor of your birthday.

They all politely told you to and I quote, “shut the fuck up.” because it was a given that they’d praise you for your special day.

You rolled your eyes with a smile on your face and threw your phone on the charger, heading to the kitchen to eat breakfast with your mother.

                      「 ₊˚.༄ 」

The sound of your phone ringing tore you away from the piece of cake that you were chewing.

“And the guest of honor has arrived!” John B gushed, JJ was sitting next to him and it looked like they were on the couch.

“Get any presents?” Kie asked, positioning her phone upwards so that she could be seen.

“Nah, unless you count cake.” You chuckled, showing them the piece that you were currently devouring.

“That looks so good.” Pope commented, he was staring into the camera, hypnotized by the sweet treat that you had just showcased.

“Snap out of it!” JJ started clapping his hands in the camera causing Pope to fidget slightly taking his face out of the camera.

You spent the first 30 minutes of the facetime call catching up about the stupid quarantine habits that you all picked up. 

Kiara had given herself a few dolphin stick & pokes, Pope had started online shopping, like a lot. He had at least 30 new t-shirts in his closet. John B calls Sarah while JJ spends most of his time talking to you.

“Wait, wait, wait guys,” You paused, trying to get their attention because they were all screaming at each other, “Are y’all ready to watch the movie?” You questioned, opening a new tab on your computer.

“Yeah, yeah. Wait a second.” John B put himself on paused, you could hear JJ sigh because he does that at least once every time that you all are on a group call.

After a few seconds, you heard everyone's phone ding as well as your own. You all had gotten a group e-mail to join a netflix party. At first you were confused because JJ said that he talked to everyone and they agreed to letting you chose the movie.

A few more seconds passed and you saw another square begin to connect to the facetime call. It was a number that no one recognized so, everyone was pretty stunned (except for john b).

The mystery person finally connected and it was revealed to be Sarah Cameron. 

You looked at everyone's little square and saw how wide their eyes were. JJ seemed furious but, he didn’t want to make a scene because after all, it was still your birthday.

Kie and Pope looked shocked that John B would add her without asking if you were okay with it first.

“Hey guys! Happy birthday, y/n.” Sarah greeted, smiling.

“Thank you.” You croaked back a response, going on your computer and opening the e-mail that was sent, clicking the netflix party link.

After taking a second to load, you saw that you were watching the 4th season of Riverdale. (yikes)

You rolled your eyes, praying that it went unnoticed.

“Is this what you wanted to watch, y/n? I thought you hated Riverdale?” Pope asked, still a little confused on the whole situation.

“Nope.” You stated dryly, shrugging you shoulders and falling back onto your bed.

“Oh, it was my idea.” Sarah chimed in, her bubble got bigger because she had said something, “You don’t mind, right y/n/n?”

“I kind of wanted to watch Back to the Future.” You revealed.

At this point, everyone was shocked, even you. You didn’t hate Sarah, she was currently being really nice but you wanted to spend your birthday talking to your best friends and she didn’t fit into that category yet.

“I don’t really like that movie.” John B commented, earning a slap on the back of the head from JJ.

“Actually,” You paused, contemplating if you even wanted to continue the sentence. You had two options, make a scene or leave peacefully.

“I’m not feeling to well. I think I’m going to go but, have fun watching Riverdale.” Before anyone could protest, you hung up.

Option two it is.

“Fuck birthday’s.” You concluded, turning off your light. You didn’t have the energy to argue with anyone so, you decided to go to bed and deal with it in the morning.

JJ muted the phone so that no one else could hear the conversation that was about to ensue, “Dude, what the fuck?!” He yelled at John B, who was very confused.

“You invited the girl you’ve been mackin’ on for a month to y/n’s birthday party. Did you even ask her?” He stood up, towering over his friend.

“Woah, woah, calm down. I didn’t think that she’d care.” He defended himself.

Pope and Kie were texting you while Sarah was too busy watching the cringe unfold on Riverdale that they didn’t notice that John B and JJ were arguing.

“All she wanted was a good birthday and you fucking ruined it.” He accused, poking at his chest.

“I didn’t ruin it. She was tired and had to go!”

“It’s literally 9:30 pm. You think she’d go to bed this early? We’re in quarantine! Everyone stays up till like, 5!”

The look on JJ’s face conveyed that he was seconds away from punching John B in the face but he had to remember that you wouldn’t want them fighting because of you.

The blonde took a deep breath that lasted at least 5 minutes, “I need to go check on her.” He stated, going into the guest room that he was currently residing in and grabbed a big basket but with how fast he was walking, it’d be impossible to make out the contents inside.

“You can’t go see her, we’re in quarantine.” John B protested but JJ didn’t seem to care.

                      「 ₊˚.༄ 」

The sun started peaking through your window at around 6 am. The heat of the sun beamed on your face, causing you to wake up earlier that you anticipated.

Groaning, you trudged to the one and only bathroom in your house, thankful that your mom was off to work. She works for Mr.Heyward and they’re currently trying to deliver supplies to as many people as possible.

After getting ready for the day in the restroom, you headed towards the kitchen. In your peripheral vision, you saw a big basket sitting on your front porch.

Peaking your interest, you opened your front door and grabbed the basket with two hands. It wasn’t that heavy but it appeared to be filled to the brim.

Perched on the very top of the basket was a ripped sheet of blank paper covered with medium sized writing. The penmanship was sloppy and certain words had been written over and over again, most likely because the marker was running out of ink.

Based on the lack of punctuation, you already knew who hand delivered this package.

On the inside was 3 of JJ’s shirts (without the sleeves ofc), a half empty bottle of cologne that he’d only wear on special occasions, a torn 2 dollar bill, and a hydroponic blunt.

If any other pogue was receiving this as a gift, they’d probably be really disappointed but, not you. You knew that JJ wasn’t well acquainted with showing and or receiving love so, this was a huge gesture.

Running back into your house, you grabbed your phone, ignoring all of the apology texts from John B, you facetimed JJ.

After a few seconds of it ringing, he answered, “What time is it?” He groaned.

“When did you deliver this?” You asked, ignoring his question.

“What are you talking about?” He didn’t falter, standing his ground.

“Don’t play dumb with me, JJ. What time did you put this on my doorstep?” You persisted, showing the poorly wrapped package that rested on your dining table.

“I genuinely don’t know what you’re talking about.” He chuckled, scratching the back of his head.

You squinted your eyes into the camera and waited a few seconds and sure enough, he creaked, “Fine, fine! I may or may not have decided to play mail man last night.”

“What the heck-?” You paused, attempting to take in what he had just said, “Wait, why?”

“Well, after Sarah crashed your birthday party, I thought you might want to wake up to something, uh, nice.” He grinned, awkwardly.

“You should’ve called me! I would’ve come outside to see you.” You replied, disappointed. He was mere feet away from you last night and you weren’t aware.

“Social distancing, y/n.” He teased. We all know that JJ is the pogue that’s most likely to accidentally break one of the rules during quarantine.

“JJ,” You took a deep breath, “Why did you all of this. I mean, it’s such an amazing birthday gift. A blunt and a 2 dollar bill, what more could a girl ask for?”

“IT’S BECAUSE HE LOOOOVES YOU!!” You heard John B scream from farther into the house.

JJ dropped the phone on the bed and put himself on mute, you shook your head, knowing he was most likely scolding John B.

“I’m sorry, he’s been spending to much time with Sarah.” He returned, “Also, I stole that bill from Kie, don’t tell her though.”

“I really really really miss you, JJ.” You sighed, frowning.

“I really really really miss you, y/n.” He mocked, of course he could not be 100% serious, even when he wanted too.

“Can you promise me something?”

He raised his eyebrows, face plastered with curiousness, “Uhhh, maybe.” He chuckled.

“Promise me that you’ll ask me out once quarantine is over?” You deadpanned. It was clear that it caught him by surprise because his face wasn’t covered with confusion anymore but shear terror instead.

“W-What was that John B???!!! You fell in the toilet! Awe shit, y/n, I’ve gotta go.” He replied, hanging up the phone.

Usually, you’d be a little offended but, you knew he was just messing around with you, especially because he was so used to making the first move when it came to getting girls.

Your phone was on silent so, you didn’t notice it a first but you had a new text message from JJ.

“pinky promise.”

[koko-bopp]

All Arranged

park jimin x male!reader

word count – 4K

genre – MATURE, Arranged Marriage!au, fluff

warning(s) – reader's got shitty friends, teasing, vanilla sex, bottom!jimin, top!reader

synopsis – Jimin is your fiancee, someone your parents helped you get with, they wanted to make sure you were married to someone who benifits both your happiness and their company.

"I mean, he's handsome and smart and–"

"And rich!"

You chuckled at one of your friends' behaviour, a little bit disappointed too, though. Sure your soon-to-be husband is very rich, but so are you, hence you didn't see why money was still such an important factor to your friends.

From the time you two have been talking, Jimin seemed to be everything you wanted in a partner; kind, talented, intelligent, respectful– he is the the type you'd bring home to your parents– you just never expected them to bring your partner home for you to meet.

You looked down at your overpriced salad with the garlic bread on the side. You were surrounded by four other friends that you'd bring to your Friday breakfast you guys accidentally turned into a tradition at your mother's hotel-resturant.

"You know," you said, taking the napkin to wipe your mouth, leaving your comment to bring your friends a level of suspense as you put the cloth back onto the space next to you, "When I get married, this breakfast thing probably not gonna happen as often."

One of them gasped, putting his fork down, "Why? We always have breakfast together on Wednesday and Friday! Is he not that rich?"

You were about to respond before another perked up, shaking his head "Shaun, c'mon, you'd literally cancel all your plans when you were with Celieen, you think [Y/N]'s going to even make plans with us when he's put a ring on his man?"

You couldn't help but laugh at that, leaning forward to put water in your glass sincere your rhetorical question was already answered. You bought the glass to your lips–

–"That or constant morning sex."

You accidently coughed on your water, a little spewing out and onto your shirt as your friends paniced their way to helping you, except the one who made the comment, she was just laughing at your reaction.

You pat down your shirt with a napkin, now having darker blue stains as you looked up, "Dude!"

Chin-hae chuckled, setting her glass of wine down, "I was joking, but seriously, the fact that you haven't even thought about sleeping with him yet is cute, real gentleman."

You glared at her, seeing the cheeky smile on her red lipstick made you roll your eyes.

"What's his name again?" One asked.

"Jimin. Park Jimin," You said, still worried about how messy your shirt looked as you attended to the damages.

"Holy shit!" You'd realised that Shaun had taken out his phone to google your fianceé, one hand on his mouth and the other scrolling through the phone, "He's that guy who's a model– aish, er, his dad owns a manufacturing company, mum owns a bunch of high-end fashion boutiques and jewellery places–"

"–Shaun," You snapped, though you tried to quickly fix your expression, "He's my fianceé. I know."

"[Y/N]," Chin-hae interupted, softer than Shaun, "He's not at your level, like, I'm just saying–"

"No, you're all worried about his money. How much he makes, what he does with it and other bullshit like that," You spat, before throwing the napkin you were patting your chest down with on the table, "I don't know what Shaun fucking thought when he was with Celieen, but frankly, I actually wanna fall in love with my fianceé, if I needed help with that, so be it. But don't be arrogant, you jerks."

They didn't say anything, and Shaun put his phone down.

Their silence was making you uncomfortable, but you rolled your eyes at it, reaching to the back-pocket of your ripped jeans to take out your wallet, taking your card out, "I got the bill. I'll add another fifty in there just incase you selfish bastards want anything."

You got up, asked one of the waiters to box up your meal and send it over to your room whenever they could. You have money, but you're not just going to waste it; overpriced salad isn't really something you want to throw away.

The elevator ride to your room in the suite was comfortable, finally glad you could dramatically distance yourself from your breakfast group for a little.

This whole Jimin thing; part of you wanted to ignore it and focus on other things and another part of you wants to fully go along with it. Like you'd told your small clique, you want to fall in love, you want to get married, you want that all cute and mushy morning kisses and late at night 'accidently' rolling over to hug you– you want that, and you didn't have a problem with your parents helping find what you wanted, but they're a bit... Enthusiastic about it.

"Jagi?"

The elevator doors into your place opened to reveal with Jimin standing up from his position on the couch. It made you grin, him all shy with a small plastic box in his hand as you kind of stood in front of the door. "Oh, Jimin, hey–"

He giggled softly, and it made you smile even brighter. He walked over to you slowly from the couch, see-through box in hand, "Sorry for the short notice, your mum kinda just left me here," He chuckled, "But I wanted to see you! I also bought you cake..."

You watched him place it on the kitchen bench, before you finally took the inicative to walk over to your fianceé after being captivated by his beauty for a minute too long, "I- thank you, that's really nice and you look lovely–" You stopped yourself, closing your eyes and taking a quick but deep sigh, "I'm sorry, I'm not usually so flustered all of a sudden, I just had a shit morning."

Jimin chuckled softly, pointing at the stains on your shirt, "Wanna... Talk about it?"

"Just people problem, it's not really going to fix anything, but I do need to find a different shirt," You fought back a snicker, but didn't do it very well.

Your fianceé grinned brightly at you, "I'll go get you one!"

He scurried off without you being able to accept or deny the offer. He's been in your room before, he's been in the rooms of all your houses, and vice versa, you've been to all four of his houses that are located in South Korea. He probably remembered the simple layout of this one since it's your main residence.

Jimin came back in with a satin navy button-up, it made you chuckle, because you'd worn that on one of the dates you'd gone on with Jimin.

"Remember on our first date I spilled the Bolognese on my white shirt after laughing too hard?"

You grinned fondly at the memory, "Yeah. I was a bit bummed because we had to end it a little early," you said.

Jimin got up into your space, quietly placing the shirt on one of the chairs next to where you were standing. He placed both his hands on your chest, not yet looking at you, but his expression said that he is we feeling shy. "...can I take your shirt off, sweetie?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat, but nodded as soon as your mind cleared. Jimin moved his fingers into the buttons, slowly and carefully popping them off, traveling down when he pleased.

You couldn't tell, but Jimin was just as nervous as you, because just changing your shirt wasn't the only thing on his mind.

The first and second were off, his hand was doing lower, he glanced up at you for a second, but he looked down almost immediately. His tongue subtly wetting the centre of his lips and biting it back from the thoughts that were going through his head.

God, you're so attractive. How did his parents find you?

If you were being honest, you were pretty much thinkingt he same thing.

"Jimin– I–"

He looked up at you, a pin of concern in his expression, "Are you okay?"

"Jimin," You placed a hand on Jimin's cheek, stroking the skin with your thumb as your eyes tried to find his, but they'd constantly drop to his lips. You inhaled carefully, moving your other hand on his waist to bring him closer to you; it made him gasp, and it made you chuckle, but you spoke softly, "Jimin, can I kiss you?"

He didn't respond, he just held your undone shirt and reached to kiss you. Your eyes shut closed as soon as his lips met yours. He's thought about this for so long, and you could tell from how much he was holding back.

You took the inicative to push Jimin so his lower back was against the neck of the couch, but also push your tongue past his lips. You moving your self in between his legs, as his fingers reached up to tangle them in your hair.

You could taste the cherry lip tint, the red on his lips tasting sweet and bitter at the same time.

You smirked, pulling away from your fianceé to admire his breath-y state. His hands fell to the back of your neck, just underneath the baby hairs on them, "I- why'd you stop?"

You rolled your hips forward against his southern regions, gripping his hips tighter as you watched him gasp in reaction, his mouth falling open as he avoided your gaze; his eyes on your exposed chest. You leaned your forehead against his, breathing a little uneven as you tried to look at him, "Baby.. do you want me? We can stop here."

"You can't fucking kiss me like that and then ask–"

"–You kissed me."

"You asked," Jimin frowned, leaning up to place a peck before bringing his hands just slightly slower to push your shirt off your shoulders, moving you slightly to let the material fall to the floor.

You unzipped the shirt Jimin was wearing, pulling the tool to the bottom to reveal his toned body, then pushing Jimin back against the couch so there was a firm holding on his torso, "You're so beautiful, Jimin."

"Won't your– [Y/N]! Oh my god!" Jimin got interrupted by you leaning down to press harsh kisses against Jimin's untouched neck, scraping your teeth here and there as you please with your hands keeping Jimin's hips still. Soft moans and gasps left his mouth, specific spots making him louder, and specific harshness of bites making his hips jolt, "W-won't your mum come back?" Jimin breathed out, swallowing hard as you continued.

"Probably," You smirked against his skin, before leaning back up to meet Jimin's eyes. Your hands went down to his ass, pushing his hips against yours, "But she won't interupt if we're in the bedroom."

Jimin smiled cheekily, placing a kiss upon your mouth with his eyes closed effortlessly, "What are you waiting for?"

You picked Jimin up from his thighs, connecting your lips once again as Jimin securely wrapped his arms around your neck. His skin felt soft under your hands, his kiss is hard and his enthusiasm is thorough the roof.

You pushed the door quickly with one hand to your bedroom before knowing Jimin closed it after from how his arms moved from the grip in your back.

Your lips didn't once disconnect from your fianceé's unless it was breathe for for a quarter of a second, it was the the same case when you placed him on the satin sheets. The fabric caught him, to which you ran your hands down his body, scraping your nails lightly against it just to feel all of him.

"[Y/N]!" Jimin still had both his hands in your hair, gasping and moaning when you took his nipples between your teeth, biting on and around the bud to see how his body reacts to everything you do.

Your hands stopped at his pants, and didn't think twice to pull them off, leaving his underwear on for tease-sake.

He gasps when you touch anywhere near his waist, but moans when you touch his chest, he whimpers when your lips meet his neck. Eyes always half-lided and he took all of your foreplay like a good boy.

"[Y/N], ah- baby–?" He tried, but moaned in between his words.

You looked up at him, a cheeky smile dancing on your lips and your hands trailed down to his thighs, simple touches that made him close them together subconsciously. You noticed that, but paid it no mind for a second. "Yes, Jimin?"

"C-can you touch me? Please?" He asked softly.

You pressed your palm against the growing bulge, watching him arch his back at the intense pressure at the place he wants it most. You smirk at him, wetting your lips before you respond, "Anything for my fianceé."

[justice4harwin]

All Too Well

Summary: Johnny Lawrence was a troubled guy, very few people could get him to let his guard down.

Series if one shots telling the story of the one girl who made him happy.

Part 1: Johnny takes Noelia home to meet his mom.

Late April/Early May 1983

Johnny would never admit it out loud, but he was nervous the first time he bought Noelia home to meet his mom. He had picked her up from home, since she still didn’t have a license and her parents needed the car to go to work anyways, and kept his eyes on the road for most of the trip.

He should've said something. Like how pretty she looked in her pale pink dress, or how nice her hair looked that day (not that it ever looked anything but). Instead, all he managed was a curt “Hey” and he pressed on the gas immediately, not even giving her time to put on her seatbelt. 

She had an attractive lemon pie in her lap, zealously cradled in her hands. It looked good. It looked so damn good, but he couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth, afraid that his voice would shake.

“Do you mind if I switch stations?” she asked, to which he shrugged, and didn’t even complain when that pop shit began to stink his car. He made a face though, and she giggled. He cracked a small smile of his own, and the tension seemed to ease.

When they pulled up to his house, she paled, eyeing the place up and down.

“Uh,...wow.” she mumbled, so soft he almost didn’t catch it. She began to fidget in her seat. “Nice place.”

“Thanks.” he replied, lamely.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, neither really knowing how to proceed. He knew he should get out of the car, open the door for her and hold the pie so she could get out, but it was like his ass was glued to the leather seat, as if Duth had finally taken revenge from the time he and Jimmy made him get stuck to his bike seat.

“Johnny, are you sure this is a good idea?”

He turned. Noe was already looking at him, the green flecks in her eyes standing out in an almost unnatural way, as usual. It was hard to focus with eyes like those.

“What?”

“This.” her eyes deviated to the house for a fraction of a second before returning to him. “I don’t think your mom will like me. This is,...I don’t,...” she sighed and uttered something to herself he didn’t understand. “Look, I don’t belong in places like these, unless I’m the help, that is.” the last part came out low and sardonic, but he wasn’t that dumbstruck by her hotness to not catch it.

“Hey, no, c’mon, Noe, don’t say that.” he smiled in what he hoped was an encouraging manner, but her skeptical face told him of the results. “My mom’s been begging me to bring you home.” that wasn’t a lie. Laura had taken to ask every morning if that day was the day she’d meet the lucky girl who put a smile on her boy’s face. He wished she had relented a little, especially the particular day when Jimmy had stayed overnight. The guys still made fun of him. “Seriously, there’s nothing to worry about.” Except his asshole stepfather, but mom had promised he’d be nice. She always kept her promises, but Sid was known for not giving a shit about anything. He knew Laura would forgive him. “Especially with that pie you got.” he reached down to try and lift the lid in the hopes of snatching a few berries, but Noelia’s hand slapped his away. He chuckled and nodded towards the house. “C’mon, I promise it’ll go well. Besides, I already met your folks, so it’s only fair you meet mine.”

Her relenting smile was all the answer he needed, so he got out of his firebird and quickly made his way to the other side, opening the door and accepting the plate she handed him.

She got out a little awkwardly and ran her hands over the skirt of the dress and her fingers through her hair. That last part was to no avail; it was always tangled.

He handed back the plate and closed the door, turning back to the house. To hide his trembling hands, he put one in his pocket and the other on Noe’s back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a curtain moving and held in a snort.

He let her walk in first, and barely closed the door when his mom appeared in the foyer, her blond hair flowing in soft waves, her long, flowery dress making her look like she was gliding rather than walking. She was smiling from her to ear, her blue eyes shining as she looked from her son to Noelia and back, taking in the scene as if it were a miracle come true or something.

He felt Noe tense up, and he softly squeezed her waist.

“Hey mom,” he cleared his throat and quickly hid his other hand again. “This is Noelia. Noe, this is mom, Laura.”

Laura clapped her hands together and put them against her cheek, positively delighted.

“Oh, I’m so happy to finally meet you, dear.” she stepped in front of Noe, who looked like a terrified deer, and proceeded to hug her gently.  “I’ve been dying to meet you, but I see why Johnny wanted to keep you for himself.”

“Mom!”

Noe chuckled ungainly.

“It’s very nice to finally meet you, Mrs Lawrence.” she offered her the pie. “I hope you like lemon pie.”

“Oh, dear, you shouldn’t have.” she accepted the dessert and motioned towards the dining room. “It looks so good; where did you buy it?”

“I-I made it, ma’am.”

Laura’s eyes widened slightly.

“Well, now I’m even more excited to try it. Rosa? Could you put this in the fridge, please?”

The table had already been set up for four people, and the first course was being laid out. He knew they were almost late, but that was because someone, ehem, decided to change outfits six times. He had a feeling Noe had just been stalling.

She was looking around the place, the further they advanced the more she pressed herself to his side. He had some idea as to what she was thinking. The place was bigger than her parent’s apartament in Reseda.

He pulled the chair back for her and gently back in before taking his seat to her right. Across from the table, he saw his mother hiding a grin behind a glass of wine.

The seat at the head of the table remained empty, and something told Johnny that Sid would be making an entrance, as usual.

Laura didn’t even look in that direction, placing her forearms on the edge of the table and looking at Noelia.

“So, tell me dear, you moved here about a year ago, right?”

How did she even knew that? Probably Ali or one of her friends.

“Yes, ma’am. My parents and I used to live in Wisconsin.”

“Oh please, call me Laura, dear.” she waved a hand to rest importance to the matter. “And how are you liking it so far?”

“It’s great not having winter anymore.”

His mom kept firing questions, but Johnny relaxed, and little by little, so did Noe. His mom didn’t have a mean bone to her, and her curiosity was starkly genuine. As the minutes passed between them, everyone seemed to forget about Sid’s tardiness. Johnny bent his leg, placing his foot on the seat and an arm around Noe’s chair, joining the conversation here and there. He kept playing with her locks, gently pulling at them here and there, waiting for her to turn with a fake annoyed expression only to play the fool.

Noe was just telling his mom about her singing lessons when they heard the front door slam shut. His girl was the only one to jump, startled, while everyone else remained impassive, having grown too used to Sid’s antics long ago.

He strode into the room, already complaining. Johnny was quick to sit properly, Noe turning to him when she felt the absence of his touch.

“I fired that jackass today. I had it with him!” he was saying, his obnoxiously loud voice not relenting even as he sat.

“Who, honey?” Laura was the only one whose mood didn’t seem too tainted by his presence.

“Barney!” he gave her a look Johnny didn’t appreciate, as if his mom were stupid for not guessing who he was talking about. Right, cause usually, Sid didn’t have anything bad to say about anyone, especially his employees. 

“Oh, and what did he do?”

“The ungrateful bastard had the audacity to come ask me to reconsider his 'paternity leave'.”

Laura hesitated for a moment before forcing a smile onto her face.

“I’m sure you did the right thing.” Sid opened his mouth to keep going, but she cleared her throat and diverted her eyes towards him and Noe, who stared at his stepfather with her mouth slightly agape. “Honey, this is Noelia, Johnny’s girlfriend.”

“Uh. So she is real after all, eh?” he asked, looking her up and down. The cobra didn’t like that at all, so he leaned forward as casually as he could, hiding her at least partially. Sid’s eyes settled on him then. “Or did you have to pay her, boy?”

“Sid.” Laura sighed.

Johnny clenched his jaw.

“I didn’t.”

“Maybe not to come over tonight, but-”

“Oh, look! Dinner is ready.”

Rosa served them the first course as quietly and as quickly as she could, retreating back into the kitchen before Sid found a reason to yell at her as well.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, the teens keeping their eyes mostly on the plate in front of them.

As the main course was served, Laura spoke again.

“Honey, did I tell you that Noelia bought us dessert?” she smiled brightly at the girl, her approval too obvious. “She made it herself, and I’m sure it tastes as good as it looks.”

“Remember Bobby’s birthday, ma? Noe made his cake.”

Laura’s mouth hung open.

“Why, yes! It was simply divine. All those details! And so delicious!” she turned to Noe, beaming. “I didn’t know you made that as well.”

She nodded, returning her smile.

“Yeah; I like making birthday cakes, and Bobby’s mom couldn’t find someone on such short notice, so I offered.”

“Well, it was the talk of the party. It absolutely outshined the birthday boy.”

Noe chuckled as she reached for the glass. His mom wasn’t lying: that cake was the most delicious crap Johnny ever had. It had been a pity that she hadn’t made it to the party, but his boys made sure to let her know how well liked it had been, in great detail.

“So, I take it you like cooking as well as singing?”

Noe nodded more enthusiastically, and the blond teen smiled at her infectious mood.

“Yes! I love it! I was thinking of going to culinary school after I graduate. I thought about being a baker, but I think I’d prefer to be a chef.”

“Or you could be both?” Laura suggested. “Why limit yourself, dear?”

Sid snorted, and Johnny’s mood was ruined again.

“You want your son to marry a cook?” he asked his wife, pointing at him with his knife. He snorted again. “Like it’s not bad enough she’s a-”

“Watch it.” he warned, tense.

“-a gold digging, illegal mexican-”

“Sid!”

“I’m from Winsconsin.”

“Watch it, man!”

"Mom's Italian though…"

“-She also wants to 'work' in a kitchen.” he said it while doing air quotes. “As if serving someone else wasn’t denigrating enough.”

“C’mon, Sid.” Laura threw her napkin on the table, seeming tired of his crap. “Just stop it, please?”

“Why?! You know it’s the truth! Just look at your son?”

“Hey! Enough!”

“He’s a pathetic little loser. You think a hot piece of ass like that would go out with him for his personality?” he said the last word in a flamboyant way as he leaned over to her. 

“Of course I do! Johnny’s a lovely boy.”

“He’s a loser! A good for nothing,...”

Sid and his mom kept on going back and forth, but Johnny didn’t listen anymore. Out of instinct, he reached to his left for his walkman and found Noe’s leg instead. Before he could retreat his hand, she had grabbed it with both of hers, holding his in a tight but comforting grip.

They kept staring at the windows in front of them. This was why he was so nervous. It wasn’t about his mom; he knew she’d love Noe, it was because of that asshole she married.

He just wanted a quiet night with his two favourite girls, as stupid as that sounded. He should’ve known it wouldn’t be a regular night in the Weinberg house if Sid didn’t throw himself into a monologue about how great it was that Johnny wasn’t his kid.

Rosa picked up the plates silently and quickly, but gave the young couple a sympathetic glance.

“Johnny, sweetie, why don’t you give Noelia a tour of the house?” 

“Oh, great! Show her where the safe box is while you’re at it! Hell, I’ll just give her the code!”

“Un-belivable.”

The blond stood, not wasting time and pulling Noe up with him rather harshly. She kept her mouth shut as he led her out of the dining room and of the house all together.

He hurried to his car and opened the door for her, closing it with much more strength than he meant. He got into the driver's seat as well, Sid’s screaming muffled now, and turned on the engine.

He carelessly pulled out of the driveway and into the street, driving off with no real destination in mind.

Noe said nothing for several minutes, and neither did he.

Suddenly he jumped, almost losing control of the wheel, but didn’t react further as she ran her fingers through his hair.

“I’m sorry.”

He scoffed.

“Why’re you apologizing? He’s the one being a dickhead.”

“I know.” she pressed her lips into a thin line. “None of what he said it’s true, Johnny.”

He stopped at a red light and looked at her worried face, relaxing just a tiny bit.

“I know that, babe. Don’t worry. Sid hates everyone, and everyone hates him back, so he hates them even more and wants to make them as miserable as he is.”

“No, shit.” she chuckled. “I really liked your mom though.”

That lifted his spirits.

“She liked you too.”

“You think?” she sounded so hopeful.

“I know.”

He grabbed her hand and intertwined their fingers.

“Where are we going?”

“The guys said they’d be at the arcade. We could join them if you want?”

“So long as you buy me dinner, I’m sold.”

He was getting quite hungry as well.

“The usual?”

She smiled and nodded, leaning over to kiss his cheek. 

He would never hear the end of it if his friends saw him at the moment.