#you can see the pinterest board so clearly already can’t you

[luthorao3]

i’m in the mood to read/write the most self indulgent sci-fi swarla au. underworld as a ship, part of a greater human flotilla, carla at its helm. lisa with her own tiny cruiser, which she spends more nights in than she does back at her apartment on the greater populated ship (too many memories). perfect mental image in my head of betsy tearing up and customising her fleet-issued standard citizen uniform so that her belly’s showing. plot? unrealised, just let me enjoy the aesthetic. 🥹

[rinnstars]

kiss me right!

in which itoshi rin gets a tongue piercing

itoshi rin x reader: fluff, suggestive (making out), drabble, not proofread + likes n reblogs r appreciated!

it was out of impulse rin thinks, or so he likes to believe.

pictures on your pinterest pinned on a board of piercing — snake bites, helix, central eyebrow piercing that rin can’t help but scroll through. its a habit he’s kept up, scrolling through your pinterest boards for ideas: from clothes idea to buy online for you to surprise especially for matching outfits like the chikawa jacket that he’s even wearing now on his bed, from photo ideas that fills his camera roll and polaroids that prints out to be pasted right on the walls of his bedroom for him to admire and unconsciously grin to himself, from date inspiration for him to take you out on on his rare days off without training.

and now he’s lying on his bed right beside you — a silver circle pierced through his tongue awkwardly as he fiddled with it inside his mouth, looking at you who’s lying right next to him on your phone, undoubtly scrolling through pinterest looking through piercings again and its killing him inside. sure, its his second day with his piercing and he probably shouldn’t do anything drastic in case of an infection. yet, he’s getting all fidgety, his hands fiddling with his phone with no purpose, scrolling through his socials that are practically empty or filled with boring football game videos, his legs fidgety and rubbing against yours as a habit and to warm both you and him up in the slightly chilly room, his teeth habitually rubbing against the cold metallic jewellery right in his tongue that he sucks against that was still slightly sore.

what would you do if you see his new piercing? would you look at him in surprise with him never indulging in such fashion stuff with most of his mind filled with football — his accessories pilled on him all belonging to you, his sweaters that are picked up by you or inspired from your pinterest board, his closet either that or only consisting of football jerseys and hand me downs for sae. would you be into it — you clearly like those cool piercing evident from your pinterest board, you always fawn over him whenever he tries something new whether it was that one time where he sported your sanrio hairpin for the first time or wore yours and his matching ring outside with you, your flushed face and stuttering words as you look at him that makes his heart swell.

“hey. i wanna try something.” if there’s anything rin can’t help but give in, its when its regarding you — whether it is when you look up at him with those puppy eyes even as a joke to go to the arcade with you once again to try yours and his luck in the claw machine that’s clearly rigged (and yet he spends his allowance there still anywhere for a chance for you to beam at him), or whenever you ask him of anything from helping you to tutor you in english or to share his food, or in this case giving in to you who’s right beside him. after all, he might not get the chance to see you when it recovers anyways — with your exams season approaching and his football competition season colluding soon as well.

and he thinks its already worth it even though you’ve just looked up from your phone, your eyes blinking as you tilt your head to face him, and he can’t help but smash his lips right against you.

its brash: its as if he’s kissing you for the first time, yours and his forehead knocking slightly against each other, his hands always finding its way to linger on your chin, pulling you even closer right into him as though he wants to melt you and him together, biting on your lips still as yours and his blood merge together. and as usual, his tongue makes his way and finds its home right inside your mouth, as though interlocking with your tongue that’s warm in contrast to his cold metallic piercing that’s even more sensitive than usual when it touches against yours. and he can guess you like the new change: with the way your eyes widen and your grip on his shirt tighten as your noise gets swallowed by his passionate kiss, the way your tongue keeps finding its way to touch the cold jewel and linger right on the sensitive spot of his tongue, the way you too pull him even closer by his shirt as you and him melt even closer: only pulling away slightly panting with drool strings connecting you and him.

“do you like it..?” rin can’t help but ask even if he knows the answer: his voice slightly shaky and breathy from the make out session, his cheeks burning still with yours and his face merged against yours, his hands still lingering right on yours as though needy and in need of your affection that he’s practically addicted to at this point.

“yeah.” one word, and you crash your lips against his once again — and rin thinks this might just be the best decision he’s ever made so far.

with the way your tongue feels right against the sore spot on his tongue that makes him whine against you, vibration sending through yours and his mouth that makes his grip your shirt a little tighter as you tug at his jacket as though still pulling him closer as though you and him aren’t practically merged together, and the way you are practically going crazy in contrast to how you usually let him take the charge as your hands find your way in to his hair that earns a whimper from him, as you shift yours and his position into a more comfortable one: all whilst not disconnecting yours and his as though it would practically kill you to separate you and him.

and as saliva drools down as he kisses you back, euphoria practically filling him — rin thinks this piercing might be the best thing and he’s sure you think so too as you unzip his jacket with your spare hand.

[sunnie-angel]

A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out

Part 2: Pretty Woman

fem!jason todd x fem!reader summary: reader convinces her girlfriend jay to dress up tags: teasing, sexual tension, groping, cunnilingus, thigh riding rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 2.2k a/n: honestly just an excuse to put jay in cheetah print

Your girlfriend in her steel toed boots, rotating closet of identical tank tops, worn in jeans, and leather jacket is hot. Capital H O T hot. You are absolutely not complaining about the way she dresses, especially when she’s looking at you like you’re something particularly tasty. No, it’s just – she makes you feel so pretty, that’s all. She makes you feel dainty, delicate in her hands, the belle of the ball on the arm of the most handsome woman there. You love the way she makes you feel, you love the way she lets you do her hair sometimes, and you just want to make her feel happy.

So it’s with that in mind that you start planning. Slowly start adding images to your pinterest board, start looking up hair and makeup tutorials. Flag certain items in your online shopping cart for when they go on sale, just so there’s no fuss when the items do turn up in your closet. Primp and practice, collect and wait until just the right moment. For the right mood to strike. And when it does, you’re ready.

You’re curled up on the couch, head resting on Jay’s stomach as you watch old reruns of Dynasty on the tv. She’s got a hand resting on the side of your face, fingers stroking softly as the lights from the screen flicker across your face.

“D’you think they’re pretty?” You ask her, not looking up from your comfy position.

“Who, the actresses?” Her fingers still on your face as you move your head to nod. “I guess, though their fashion’s pretty dated.”

“Yeah but don’t they look so gorgeous and confident though?” You continue to prod. “Big hair, bigger attitude.”

“O-kay,” she drawls, clearly just humouring you but it’s an opening.

“Doesn’t that remind you of anyone?” You tease, starting to push yourself into a seated position.

“What, you don’t mean me?” She squints at you like if she looks hard enough she can see the exact shape of the head damage that put you in this mood.

“Uhuh,” you nod, eyes bright and enthusiastic. “ A little bit of primping, a dab of red lipstick.”

“And then what?” Jay asks. “You turn me into some tv villain sleeping with her ex-husband’s mortal enemy?”

“Um,” you stutter, suddenly shy. “More like the morally grey lesbian that seduces her daughter?”

Jay grins because now she’s got the gist of your plan unfurling into the palm of her hand.

“Yeah?” She teases. “You want me to seduce you?”

You nod, vigorously.

“Okay fine, turn me into your soap opera lesbian then.”

You squeal and grab her hand, drag her off the couch and ignore her rolling eyes at your excitement. Push her down into the vanity seat as gently as you can while dashing around to grab things from their hiding places. Jay looks at you in the mirror as you start to backcomb her hair.

“Is this you preparing for the outcome you wanted again?” She asks suspiciously like she already knows the answer.

“Might have been,” you say, already nearly done with shaping her hair.

A fog of hairspray brings it all together, Jay coughing and swatting at your ass to leave off. Grinning, you spin her around in the chair and start on the makeup. End up sitting on her lap, legs splayed, as you swipe bold oranges and gold across her eyelids, too engrossed in your work to notice the way she’s palming at your ass. A careful hand applies a crisp line of red lipstick to her pout. Grabbing a tissue, you hold it up to her mouth and tell her to “Bite gently.”

She does, eyes never leaving yours with a hunger in them that’s not quite appropriate for prime time television. With a careful finger under her chin, you turn Jay’s head side to side to make sure you haven’t left any spidery mascara marks or fallen glitter. Satisfied with your handiwork, you push off her lap, only suddenly just realizing how far up your skirt had ridden.

“There’s an outfit laid out in the closet,��� you tell her, hands fidgeting with your skirt hem. “You don’t– you don’t have to wear all of it if you don’t want to, but um, I’d really like it if you did. I’ll just um, just wait here for the grand reveal then?”

Sighing the heavy burden of the long suffering, Jay walks to the closet, trailing a lone finger down your shoulder as she brushes past. Inside just as you said is an outfit, or, what should be an outfit only there is barely enough fabric to qualify as such. Grumbling she throws her clothes in the laundry basket and starts inspecting what you’ve gifted her.

“Hey these underwear are missing half the fabric,” she calls out to you, holding out the glorified strings of cheetah print, trying to figure out which bit is supposed to actually cover her.

“Thongs just always look like that!” You call back.

“Well I hope you didn’t pay very much for them,” she continues to grumble, finally figuring out how to slide them over her hips without turning them into a garotte.

Pulls the high cut of the waistband up over her hip bones and admires the way they make her look curvy. The bra – the bra almost makes her laugh out loud. That same loud cheetah print only stuffed to the gills with padding. It’s probably 80% padding and the balconette cut means there’s basically no cup for her actual boobs. A very far, far cry from her usual sports bras, but she’ll bite. Has to adjust and play around with it to stop her nipples from wanting to spill out but she’ll admit her tits look good. She will be asking you later about why you had a lingerie set in her size just lying around though. A tight, tight pencil skirt that has her jumping and shimmying to get on goes on next, the stretch of the fabric smoothing out the harsh lines of her. A thin, see through button down is all that’s left. With a snort she simply knots it, already knowing that the hassle of the tiny buttons won’t be worth it. Not with how she plans the rest of the night to go.

Taking a breath, she allows herself a moment to just look at herself in the long mirror. Twists to admire what the skirt does for her ass, the line of her legs. She looks... powerful. The kind of beauty that crushes lesser beings underfoot with casual cruelty, sharp edges tempered by the fullness of curves Jay was never sure she’d really have. Wild. Her muscles make her look dangerous and wickedly feminine, red lips curling up at the corners at her thick thighs test the limits of the skirt seams. The way the shirt clings for dear life across her shoulders, make her an hourglass figure to kill for. Oh you knew what you were doing, dropping hints about seduction, but Jay’s gonna make you regret not being honest about it.

With a swish to her hips that is enchantingly new, Jay walks back into the bedroom. She savours the instantly glassy look in your eyes. The sweet little parting between your lips and the harsh bob of your throat as you swallow. Walks right up to where you sit on the bed and uses her height to loom over you. Your legs part automatically and she slots herself between them like she belongs there. She ghosts the back of her hand down the side of your face and you close your eyes and shudder.

“Like what you see, sweet thing?” She teases. You nod blindly and press your face into her hand. “Such a good girl, getting everything ready for me like this.” You sigh as her fingers card into your hair, cups the back of your head. “There’s just one teeny, tiny, little problem.” Your eyes fly open, brows creasing with confusion. With one hand Jay pulls on the knot keeping her shirt closed, exposes her breasts to the cold air of your bedroom. “My tits are sore from this teeny, tiny, little bra. You’re going to put that conniving little mouth to work and make them feel better.”

The hand cradling your head turns to iron, guides your face to her chest and plants it right in her cleavage. It takes a few slow seconds to realize what’s expected and Jay’s fingers tightening in your hair before you start to move. Quickly you begin to mouth at the warm flesh of her tits, laving your tongue over their heavy weight, kissing and sucking little red marks into them. Use your empty hands to massage them, squeeze at them the way you’ve been to ever since she walked out and tied your tongue into knots. Carefully free one breast from its confines and latch onto her dark nipple. Tease at it with your teeth until you can feel her panting. Your hips start undulating, desperate for friction at your throbbing core. The wet core of your panties brushes against her leg and the iron grip on your head pulls your off of her breast with a wet sounding pop. 

“I generously let you play with my tits but you just had to get greedy, huh?” She taunts. Steps back and has you moaning at the loss of her. “Thought your gluttonous little cunt deserved more.” With a broad hand she smacks between your legs, has you writhing and whimpering only held up by the hand still in your hair. With disgust she throws you back onto the bed and crawls up your body. Shimmies the tight skirt up around her hips, just the thin string of her thong keeping her covered. “I’m going to ride your lying little tongue,” she tells you with a cold kind of disdain. “Your hands are going to stay on my ass the entire time and if you’re good and make me come, maybe I’ll let you grind on my abs after.” 

Your keen gets cut off by Jay seating herself over your face, hands scrabbling to grab onto her plush ass. You tongue aside the wet fabric of her thong and start sucking. Seal your lips around her hole and grind your nose into her clit. Use your hands to encourage her to use you. Tongue at her entrance until she starts swearing, knuckles white around the head board. Slick coats your mouth and chin. Stiffening your tongue, you start to thrust inside of her and she grinds down on you. Throws her head back and arches her back in a way that pushes her breasts out. Entranced, you lap at her cunt reflexively as she starts riding your face in earnest, tits bouncing rhythmically. You throb between your legs, hips meeting nothing but air as you squirm beneath her.

Urging her on, you start to tongue fuck her in earnest, desperate to make her come in your mouth. Jay takes one look at your wide glassy eyes and grins wickedly, instantly understanding what part of the show has all your attention. Reaching behind her, she unclasps the bra and shrugs it off, lets her tits fall heavy. Arches her back artificially and starts to feel herself up. Moans as she tweaks and pinches at her own nipples, hips grinding faster against your tongue. She comes just as you start to give up hope of being good for her, thighs clenching around your ears and slick dripping into your throat, slow fire lighting up her veins.

With a heavy sigh she rolls off of you, sits next to your head as she fixes her skirt. Carefully you keep your hands to yourself as your roll onto your elbows to look up at her. Very intentionally you don’t grind your aching core into the mattress. Jay strokes her thumb over your cheekbone, then uses her hand to tilt your chin up, admiring the way your face glistens in the light.

“My, my baby girl’s a messy eater,” she chides, your face flushing warm. “M’gonna have to teach you better manners.” She tuts.

“Was I–” you clear your throat “Was I good though?”

“Yeah baby, you can have your reward,” she says affectionately. Scrabbling on the bed you straddle her, almost crying out in relief at finally having something to rub up against. “You’re gonna have to do all the work though,” she tells you, warm hands coming up to steady your hips.

You groan and start grinding, her hands guiding you. Strung tight already and achingly turned on, you know its not gonna take much. Your panties are disgustingly wet, soaked through and practically dripping. Frantic, grind as fast as you can, plant your hands on her chest and bear down on her taut stomach. Your thighs already burn and you whine in frustration, pleasure not building fast enough in your gut to satisfy you. Jay reaches up a hand and cups your breast through your t-shirt. Brushes a thumb over a sensitive nipple and you’re crying out as you come on her stomach, legs shaking and cunt quivering.

Exhausted, you slump over on her chest, face buried in her neck. She pets a hand over your hair and coos as you shake against her warm skin.

“There she is, there’s my good baby girl.” You sigh and try to wriggle closer at the praise. “See what being patient gets you? Now come on baby,” she says, rolling you onto your back on the middle of the bed. “Let’s get these sticky panties off. I want to see whose lips this lipstick looks better on.”

series masterlist | part 1 | part 3

[toads-treasures]

👖 🐉  📓

👖 - Coffee shop or high school AU, your choice: tell me their role.

High school gross no thank you coffee shop all the way

Leda- I actually can’t think of Leda in a coffee shop au for some reason. Maybe because she wouldnt like coffee 😂 unless it had so much milk and sugar in it that you cant tell it is coffee. If I had to pick an AU for Leda I think I would go with flower shop and tattoo parlor AU. I think she would be the tattoo artist who specializes in floral tattoos because she’s always loved flowers. Or maybe if it had to be coffee shop AU she works at the flower shop around the corner.

Cori- cori would be a barista in a artsy cafe, one that doubles as a small local art gallery or something. She would probably end up being offered a management position because she is the one all the other workers go to if a customer is being an ass. She can talk them down and diffuse the situation but not necessarily in a genial way 😂 the perpetrator would be walking out with their tail between their legs. Something like, “Sir are you alright? Do you need us to call someone for you? you are yelling at a child over a cold brew, so clearly you are in some kind of distress,”

But she wouldn’t take the management position, she’d be too busy with her other job of preforming in clubs and bars.

🐉 - Very serious question… are they more like a dragon, or a unicorn?

Leda- I wanna say unicorn, and Leda would want to be a unicorn, she’s got the color scheme for it, but I think she might be a dragon. A little selfish, a little pointy, prone to fireballs.

Cori- for sure a unicorn, hard to spot, even harder to catch, will disappear just when you think you’ve got a good look at her.

📓 - Do you associate any quotes or lyrics with this oc?

Haha I have a normal amount. I for sure don’t have two Pinterest boards overflowing with quotes and things….

Leda

Second Child, Restless Child - The Oh Hellos

See, I was born the second child / with a spirit runnin wild, running free / and they saw trouble in my eyes / they were quick to recognize the devil in me

and heaven knows I tried / but the devil whispered lies I believed

Also Little Chaos by Orla Gratland, just the whole song, and Unsweetened Lemonade by Amélie Farren (but you already knew that one you have secret knowledge)

Cori

Irish Eyes - Rose Betts

My sister says I’ve a restless soul / restless soul, restless soul / easy to catch, but I’m hard to hold / Like a song on the wind that you caught one day / I get under your skin, then I slip away

Shake it Out - our lady Florence and The Machine

And I’ve been a fool and I’ve been blind / i can never leave the past behind / I can see no way, I can see no way / I’m always dragging that horse around / all of his questions such a mournful sound / tonight I’m gonna bury that horse in the ground / I like to keep my issues drawn, it’s always darkest before the dawn

[4d-gigi]

hi! i just wanted to ask: is it possible to have a limiting belief that even though i have it in imagination i won’t get it in the 3d? because i’ve done everything right- fulfilling myself and dismissing the 3d as much as i can knowing it has to change but it’s been more than a month of this and i don’t know what more to do. i’ve done edward arts meditations and just experienced it, imagining what my life would be like after i received my desire, making pinterest boards, simply just “deciding” and reminding myself that it has already happened in my 4d

i’m so tired, i even validate myself and say no i do have it in imagination idk what else i’m supposed to do? i have clearly accepted i have it in imagination and i am being the person who has it but it shouldn’t take this long at all. i want results in my 3d, i have such bad circumstances and it just doesn’t seem to reflect even though i do know i have it.

please could you give me advice. thank you.

Yes its a limiting belief and its a state. You’re in the state of ‘i cannot have it in the 3d’ so that is what will reflect. I can’t tell u what ur doing wrong but u gotta be observant and see if u are entertaining another story or being someone else, or if ur constantly being aware of not having it.

Take a break from manifesting. When u feel ready, go to source. Or, just stop trying altogether. Just live life. When you think of something, try shifting ur awareness and see how it plays out. You are already in Barbados. Ed’s new video on that has elements of experimenting in it, try listening to it and see how u feel.

U haven’t seen it coz u haven’t fully accepted it. U want results in the 3d is also an issue. If u understood the 3d is a copy, u would not want it to show up. BECAUSE u know it’d show up. Why would i want money when i know i already have it coming? U don’t WANT it anymore. U just have it and feel happy u have it. Want is gone.

[bqstqnbruin]

4 times you ruined his plans + 1 time they were ruined on their own

Hello, hello, everyone! Here's a fic, finally, after over a month of me doing nothing! This is my summer exchange fic brought to you by the wonderful @antoineroussel! I had @sorryjustafangirl as my giftee, and god, I hope you like this. This is the 8th (?) different fic I tried to write for you, so hopefully, this one is the good one.

It's late, I drove from Washington D.C. to CT today with my mom screaming at me for nine hours for my driving, so if there are typos, please forgive me 😬

Word Count: somewhere around 6k (less than 7k, I can tell you that much)

Warnings because I forgot to put them when I posted it: mentions of nausea and vomitting (it doesn't actually happen but the reader feels sick) in 3

Hope you like it!

___________________________

One

You had been with him for nearly five years now. Five happy years dating Tyson, your best friend turned dream guy right before your eyes, that classic friends to lovers story that people ate up like it was whatever new trendy snack their favorite celebrity was being sponsored by. You were just waiting for that official next step that the two of you had already talked about: the engagement, and then the wedding that came as a result.

Of course, you had a Pinterest board of ideas for how Tyson would propose, what your wedding parties would wear, the centerpieces, all that basic stuff that girls do. Except, you weren’t sure how Tyson was going to ask you. You knew he had the ring, but you didn’t know what it looked like. You knew he had something planned, but, God, you needed to know what it was.

“Tyson, this place looks really fancy,” you say, smoothing the dress you had on as Tyson helped you out of the car. You weren’t really the type of people to go somewhere like this, a place with a dress code, with small plates of extremely expensive food, probably some sort of weird slow jazzy music playing in the background that you had never wanted to listen to in the first place.

“One of the guys said he took his wife here and that it was the best meal they ever had. I wanted to do the same for my girl,” he tells you, opening the door for you to go into the dimly lit, too quiet for your own liking restaurant.

You were really only there because Tyson wanted you to be, clearly not noticing the discomfort you felt by being there. The two of you are showed your seats, Tyson getting your chair for you before sitting down himself, opening the menu to see that one meal could easily cost you an entire week's worth of lunch and dinner.

“Tys,” you whisper, putting the menu up as if you were hiding from someone, despite there being people surrounding you on all sides, probably not even paying attention to you to begin with, “this place is really expensive.”

He shrugs, not looking away from the menu, “Eh, don’t worry about it. It’s my treat,” he tells you.

Tyson starts talking about something you weren’t paying attention to, probably whatever it was one of his teammates had told him about this place, clearly doing that thing where he would try to impress you with how much he knew about something you didn’t, despite not knowing enough about it himself. You can’t help but smile, watching him talk to you, his lips moving and you knowing that sound was coming out even though you weren’t processing what he was saying. He stops, a smile on his face mirroring yours. “What?”

“You just look excited talking about this place,” you tell him, reaching out across the table for his hand.

You fall into a mundane conversation, Tyson offering to order the food for the two of you since he saw you were overwhelmed, which you let him do. You weren’t even sure what you were ordering, but you trusted him. That, in conjunction with the fact that the menu had been overwhelming since you saw the prices on it, you weren’t sure you could order something for yourself if you tried.

The dinner goes by faster than you expected, the food was delicious but definitely too small in terms of portions, your initial impression of what the food could have been sadly correct. You honestly would rather just go to the nearest fast food place and grab whatever was cheapest on the menu, pig out in the car, and then make him mad because you wouldn’t stop throwing the french fries at him and he knew he would evidently have to clean it up.

The waiter comes over, standing over the two of you with another pair of daunting menus. “Would you two like dessert?”

While you try to tell the waiter, “No,” Tyson exclaims that he wants a slice of chocolate cake. The waiter looks between the two of you awkwardly, not sure what to do.

“I’ll give you two a minute to decide,” he says, leaving the menus in front of you.

“Tyson, you’ve already spent way too much on dinner as it is. There’s no reason to spend half your year's salary on a dessert now, too,” you tell him, looking through the menu. The desserts, while sounding delicious, were just as expensive as the entrees, and probably even smaller. You could go down the street from your shared apartment and get something you already knew you liked, something that would surely fill you up since the meal itself really wasn’t that satisfying and was less than $5. “Babe, I’d rather be somewhere more relaxed, you know, more us.”

“Oh, come on. I’ve heard the chocolate cake here is to die for,” he tries to insist, looking nervous.

“I don’t even see chocolate cake on the menu,” you point out to him, scanning back up and down the page one more time. “This place seems too fancy to have something as pedestrian as chocolate cake.”

“But you love chocolate cake,” Tyson says, a hint of panic as his voice wavered at the end. You could see him getting nervous, feeling his leg shaking under the table.

You look at him a little confused, especially since you couldn’t remember the last time you had chocolate cake. “I like peanut butter cheesecake,” you tell him, an awkward chuckle following just out of trying to figure out what he was planning. You knew it was something, you just couldn’t figure out what.

The waiter comes back to take your order, you starting before Tyson can tell him that you weren’t interested. You saw a flash of panic cover Tyson’s face as he and the waiter exchange glances. “I’ll get the check, then?” he questions, Tyson nodding.

“What’s going on?” you ask once the waiter was out of earshot, something clearly going on while your boyfriend reached across the table for your hand.

He shakes his head, a fake smile on his face while he tried to tell you, “Nothing. I just really thought you would like that dessert.”

You roll your eyes, giving him that look that told him you were calling his bluff. “You know I’m going to get it out of you eventually, so you might as well just tell me now.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes, letting out a sigh as the waiter brings over the check. “Your engagement ring? The one you’ve been waiting for?” he starts, you already feeling your heart racing, knowing what he was about to tell you, “Was in that chocolate cake that you have no desire for.”

“You were going to propose?” you nearly scream, thankful that there weren’t that many people who were there in the restaurant within earshot of you two. “So, do it now!”

Tyson laughs, putting his card down and shaking his head. “Oh, god, no. Not like this. If I’m asking you to marry me, I’m doing it right, not when you know it’s going to happen.”

Your jaw drops, you starting to plead with him to just give you the ring, telling him that you would say yes no matter when or how he asked you. He was your person, the one you thought you were meant to be with. He didn’t even have to ask you at this point to marry him, you already knew it was going to happen.

“Nope,” he says, popping the ‘p’ at the end and getting up from the table. “Now if you excuse me, I have to go get a ring from a piece of chocolate cake.”

Two

Jokic with the ball, dribbling it between his legs, passing it from his chest over to Murray at the top of the arc, back to Jokic, who goes for a three outside the arc, only for it to be blocked by Brown to run it back to the other side of the court to give Pritchard the chance to score the three that was supposed to be from Jokic.

At least, that’s what Tyson was narrating. You had no idea if what he was saying was actually right. The midnight blue and sunset yellow of the Nuggets uniforms along with the green and white of the Celtics were dizzying as you tried to keep the players straight. You understood basketball enough, but these were not the teams you were familiar with.

For all you knew, Tyson could have just looked up the rosters of both teams and rambled off whichever names he remembered since you couldn’t really see the names on the back of the jerseys. In front of you was just tall men running back and forth with a giant bouncy ball that they threw at a ring a few feet higher than their heads in hopes of getting points. The only difference between what they did and what Tyson did was that Tyson was on ice, he was shorter than them, and the net they aimed at with a small rubber disk was on the ground.

Hockey was still better. At least the guys were if you had to admit. You were biased though, sitting next to the boy who was admittedly the love of your life.

“Tyson, what are we doing here?” you lean over and whisper to him when the Celtics lined up for some foul shots. You hadn’t been paying much attention, not even looking at the score.

Tyson’s leg was shaking, bouncing up and down against the ground below you. He was nervous about something, but you didn’t know what. “I thought we could try something new. You didn’t like the restaurant because it was too fancy, so I figured why not a game? You like hockey, why not try basketball so we can sit together and watch?” he starts rambling.

“Ok, but do I like hockey, or do I like the hockey players?” you whisper in his ear, cutting off whatever it was he was going on about.

He looks at you, pink on his cheeks as he kisses you. “It was hockey and then you saw me and nothing else mattered,” he teases you, pulling a laugh from you as the crowd groans around you, the Celtics going back to the foul line because of a swipe from Jokic on Tatum.

You looked up at the screen over the center of the court, not paying attention much but the image of Tyson skating over the Avs logo appearing in your mind instead. Why did he have to take you to a basketball game when he was playing here tomorrow night? You were going to be here tomorrow night to see him play against the Wild and hopefully win, not watching the Nuggets lose to the Celtics this badly. From what you knew, the Celtics weren’t even that great of a team lately, considering you could tell that their star players were having trouble passing the ball and sharing, something so simple you could do it when you were three. At least, that’s what you think Tyson had told you on the way here.

The buzzer sounds that the first quarter of the game was over, the Celtics somehow having a fifteen-point lead on the Nuggets.

There was some sort of stupid thing going on between some of the fans, making fools of themselves while the entire arena was able to see it for their entertainment. They looked like there were playing some sort of trivia game, you too out of it to really pay attention to them. Tyson’s hand was intertwined with yours, you playing with his fingers with your free hand, running the tips up and down his knuckles.

“So how much longer do we have to stay here?” you whisper to Tyson, your breath on his skin sending a shiver down his spine.

“Three more quarters.”

“Oh, God,” you groan, sitting back in your seat.

Tyson laughs, looking back up at the screen over center court, the Celtics with the ball and scoring three from Brown right at the start of the quarter. “Please, save that for tonight,” he tells you, earning a swat on his chest from you. “Come on, you said you liked basketball.”

“Yeah, but there are so many other things we could be doing right now.”

“Hmmmm,” he hums in your ear, “like what?”

You let out a giggle, forgetting for a second that you were in public as the crowd around you cheered for the three-pointer one of the Nuggets just scored. You were sure it wasn’t enough to get them caught up to the Celtics, who were seemingly on their game much more than Tyson apparently expected them to be. “Well, for starters, we could be home doing things you can’t do in public,” you whisper, kissing his earlobe.

Tyson turned bright red at the thought, you still making him excited with every suggestion you made to him despite them being the same words uttered to him for the last five years. That’s how he knew you were the one for him.

“If you could please turn your attention to the big screen, Micah has a question for Ellie,” the two of you hear, doing what was asked and seeing a man propose to his girlfriend. The arena cheered as she said yes, him slipping the ring on her finger and then kissing her. Tyson could feel his heart racing in anticipation.

“God, that’s the worst,” you cringe, saying it only loud enough for Tyson to hear.

“What?” he asks, the color drained from his face.

“Asking in public like that, where everyone, thousands of strangers could see you? What if she said no? That would have been the worst. When you propose, it should be around the people you love, the ones most important to you, or just you and the person you’re asking, you know?” you start rambling, looking over at Tyson, an irritated look on his face. “What?”

“You know what was going to come across that screen during the third quarter?” he asks, you shaking your head. “Think about what you ruined at the restaurant already.”

You groan, trying not to laugh. Two for two. “You were going to propose, weren’t you?”

“Uh, yeah. You said last time you wanted something more relaxed.”

“Oh, my god, Tyson,” you laugh, resting your head on his shoulder. “You could still ask me.”

“Oh, please, who do you think I am?” Tyson scoffs, shifting in his seat slightly, patting the box that you knew had to have the ring inside.

“My boyfriend who is supposed to be my fiance by now if he would just ask me to marry him like he told me he would,” you grumble, sitting up and trying to recede from his arm that he was wrapping around you, pulling you close to him to give you a kiss on your temple.

He laughs at you trying to get the ring from his pocket, “Save that fun for later,” he teases you, giving you a kiss as he holds your hand away from the pocket with the ring, heat rushing to your cheeks out of embarrassment. “When I propose to you, which will be soon, it will be done in a way that you like. One that isn’t somewhere that isn’t us, that isn’t tacky, none of that. Ok?”

“Why should I trust you that you’re actually going to ask me?” you respond, half meaning it, half-joking.

Tyson rolls his eyes, looking at you with a small smile on his face. “Oh, please. How could I not ask you?”

Three

For whatever reason, Tyson’s teammates were all getting together tonight, and Tyson insisted that you go along with him.

“You spend all day every day with either your guys or me, do you really need to spend more time with us?” you ask him, fixing your shirt as you walked up to one of the guy's houses. You had been to pretty much every teammate's house of his more than enough times, but after a while, they all looked the same: fancy cars lining the driveway from the other teammates, lit up with laughter and noise since you two were always the last ones to get there (which was always your fault).

“Why wouldn’t I want to spend all day with the people I love?” Tyson tries to argue, taking your hand in his as he opens the door to the house without so much as knocking. He leads you into the house, saying hi to teammate and significant other after teammate and significant other. You knew them all, of course, but something about you felt off that night. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but you had protested going in the first place, begging Tyson to just let you stay in bed instead. Ideally, it would have been with him, but he insisted that the two of you go to his teammate's house.

Tyson hands you a plate, now in the kitchen surrounded by food. You hand it back to him, shaking your head. “Tys, I’m not hungry.”

He looks at you, his brow furrowed. “What’s wrong?”

You shrug, watching him pile food on his plate, the sight of it making you nauseous all of a sudden. “I don’t know. Remember how last night I told you that Chinese food smelled a little weird?”

Tyson groans, a look of panic on his face. “I told you not to eat it.”

It had to be from a week or two before, definitely not fresh, definitely not something you should have eaten based on how horribly it smelled when you took it out of the fridge. But Tyson was on his way back from a road trip, he wasn’t going to be back in time for you to eat together, and you had no desire to cook something new when that was sitting there. “I wasn’t going to throw it away!” you defend yourself, your voice low so no one looks at you almost causing a scene.

“Babe, I could have had something sent to you instead.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to waste food.”

The two of you go on bickering over what you were sure would be called spoiled food gate, so whatever ridiculous nickname Tyson would come up with to make fun of you for it later, Tyson eventually getting pulled away from you while one of the guy's partners drags you over to their own group. They start talking, you not paying attention, focusing more on the fact that you were trying to not vomit all over them. You remember seeing a Tik Tok that said if you feel nauseous, you should smell rubbing alcohol to help, but would it be a bad thing to just go into their bathroom and start rummaging through the cabinets?

Tyson snaps you out of it, pulling you away from the group you were standing in. “You look horrible,” he tells you, panic on his face again.

You scoff at him, trying your best to not lose it until you at least found a bathroom that you could lock yourself in. “Yes, those are the words every girl dreams of hearing from the man they love, thank you.”

“No, no,” he says, taking your hand, using his other to gently graze your cheek with the pad of his thumb, “You don’t look like you’re feeling well.”

“You mean me telling you that this morning when we woke up, before we left, and when we got here wasn’t enough for you to believe me?” you snap at him, letting out a groan as you drag him to try to find a bathroom.

“Let’s just go home then, ok? I can take care of you there.” You look at him, a crushed look on his face. You nod, his hand finding the small of your back as he guides you back to the front door.

“Hey, Tyson!” one of his teammates calls, JT raising his glass to the two of you as everyone gathers around. “You found her!”

“Uh, yeah,” he says, his voice shaking as he scratches the back of his head. “We’re actually going to head out, early day tomorrow and all that,” he lies, his teammates around him looking just as confused as you did.

Before they can say anything else, you two are on the front steps of the house. “What was that?” you ask him, trying to figure out what he was muttering to himself.

“Well, you said you didn’t want it to be somewhere you weren't’ comfortable, you didn’t want it to be around strangers, so why not around some of the people we love the most, the ones who are most like family to us since our actual families can’t be here,” he starts rambling, his hand shaking as he tries to get into the car.

“Wait, Tys, you were going to propose tonight?” How the hell did you manage to ruin it a third time?

“Yeah.”

“But, only your teammates were there,” you point out, “Who was there that I loved?”

He starts the car, speeding away down the road to get you home. “You didn’t notice Skylar, Ainsley, Drew, Courtney, all your best friends also at the house? We were literally parked behind Sky’s car with the ‘boss ass bitch on board’ sticker in the back window.”

You honestly hadn’t, having been so focused on how you felt and how much you didn’t want to be there in the first place. “You could still ask me,” you sing to him, the same conversation you had twice already.

“I’m not asking you on the side of the road when you’re about to vomit all over me at any second,” he tells you.

“You’re annoying,” you counter, resting your hand on your stomach despite knowing that it wouldn’t bring you any relief. “Next time I want to eat Chinese food from a day we don’t remember, make sure to stop me.”

He shakes his head, a lazy smile on his face. “Oh, trust me, I know once you get something in that mind of yours, there’s no stopping you. It’s one of the things I love about you."

Four

“Tyson, you have to leave for a road trip, why aren’t you packed yet?” you call from your bedroom, rummaging through the half-packed suitcase that lay at the foot of your bed to see what he still needed and what you could throw in for him. You start throwing things in that you know he needs, trying to find everything in the mess that he somehow made despite not being in the room for the better part of four hours.

“Yeah, but I’m making dinner,” you hear him call from the kitchen, something crashing to the floor followed by him swearing.

You go into the kitchen, something white spilled all over the floor surrounding your boyfriend, a pot somehow on the opposite side of the room from where Tyson was, and flour covering him. You couldn’t help but laugh at him, the sight of him looking like a child who broke into the pantry. You go up to him, one hand on his waist, using the other to trace a path down his cheek through the flour with your finger. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Obviously, something went wrong,” he says, trying to wipe the flour off himself, stealing a kiss before breaking free from you.

“Oh, come on, you have to give me more than that,” you say, leaning against the counter next to him.

Tyson turns off the stove, whatever was boiling stopping as he gets closer to you, a sly grin on his face. He reaches behind you, his other hand on your face. “Close your eyes,” he whispers, his face inches from your own. You hear him inhale, blowing in your face, now covered in flour as you cough, trying to open your eyes.

“Oh, you bastard,” you squeal, running over to the fridge to find something to use to retaliate against him. You grab the ketchup, Tyson running from you. You corner him in the bathroom.

“You said I had to give you more,” he says, his hands up in surrender as he backs his way into the shower.

“Yeah, but that means I get to give you this,” you tell him, squirting the bottle at him, covering him as he puts his hands in front of him to try to get you to stop. He comes up to you, trying to wrap his hands around you as you squeeze the bottle at his face, covering him with the red substance. The two of you were screaming with laughter, you trying to fight him so that he didn’t get ketchup all over you as he tries to hug you in order to restrain you.

He finally gets the bottle away from you, holding it high above your head so you can’t reach it, both of you with stupid smiles on your faces, covered in ketchup. “God, I love you,” he says, kissing you, the taste of tomato making you cringe slightly. “But now we have to clean all this up.”

You look over his shoulder to see the mess made, mostly by you. “It’s pretty much entirely on us and in the shower,” you start, “and I think we both know what that means.”

“Scrubbing Bubbles and Mr. Clean?” Tyson asks, looking at the now red shower.

You stare at him, your mouth hanging open. “I was going to say, ‘we could just use the shower together to clean it all up,’ but sure, Tys, cleaning products will work too.”

You both laugh, Tyson leading you into the bedroom so the two of you can change. “I like your idea, too.” You get into clean clothes in silence, both of you unable to keep your eyes off each other while you did, Tyson doing a little more packing before his trip tomorrow.

“Alright, we’re cleaned up for now, the kitchen still needs to be cleaned, but I think we need to eat first,” Tyson says, taking you back to the kitchen for what you thought was an unfinished dinner.

He pulls the chair out for you at your kitchen table, noticing that he had wine glasses and candles set up, your favorite wine off to the side. Tyson brings over two plates, your favorite dinner sitting in front of you, gnocchi with alfredo sauce. “Tyson, is this homemade?”

“I thought I’d try something new tonight,” he shrugs, waiting for you to taste it.

You smile at him, bring the potato pasta up to your mouth, choking on it immediately. The smile fades from Tyson’s face as you shake your head. “Babe, I love you. I really do,” you start, getting up to get water to swallow what you just tried to eat, “but this is not good. This tastes like it should be a felony.”

Tyson lets out a laugh, an apologetic smile on his face. “Yeah, that seems right,” he admits, getting back up to throw out the food. “I wanted to make you something special for tonight.”

“Why?” you ask, getting up to see what you could throw together for dinner.

“Well, I was going to ask you to marry me after the perfect meal,” he says, nonchalantly. You whip around to see him looking at his fingernails as if what he said was no big deal.

“What stopped you this time?” you scream.

“You didn’t like the dinner. I told you: when I ask you, it’s going to be perfect.”

“I think we’ve established that there is no scenario in our lives that is going to be perfect,” you counter.

Tyson shrugs, getting up from the table. “I don’t know what to tell you, babe. You’ll be my fiance when it’s perfect.”

+one

He was nervous. Shaking, actually. Nothing in his life was going to be bigger than this moment.

Actually, wait. He might just be dramatic. He stopped and thought for a moment, his hand reaching into his jacket pocket while he waited for you to get ready. This was, what, the fifth time that he was going to try to ask you to marry him? He lost count at this point, but he already knew you were going to say yes. He just needed you to not ruin it this time.

Something in him told him that tonight was the night you weren’t going to. It was going to be the night that everything, for once, went perfectly, just as he had planned.

“Hey, how much longer do you think you needed, babe?” Tyson calls to you, his leg bouncing up and down

“I need like five more minutes to find my shoes,” you yell to him. Tyson had asked you to be ready by 5 pm. Naturally, it was already 5:20, and the shoes that you thought were in your closet that you wanted to wear with your outfit were nowhere to be found, causing you to run late since you started getting ready late and didn’t think you needed this much time to find the shoes.

“Five minutes to find shoes?” Tyson says, appearing in the doorway of your bedroom.

You shuffle through the shoes you’ve already looked for, trying your best to find them as fast as you could. “Are you new here?” you ask, “You should already know that I’m a mess.”

“And you’re making a mess, too,” he says, getting down on the closet floor to help you. “What shoes are you looking for?”

“My Vans.”

Tyson stands up, dragging you with him to the front door. He stops, pointing down at the ground. “The ones you put by the door when you got home from work so you’d know where they were when we needed to leave?”

You look down at them, giving him the puppy dog eyes in an attempt to make him less irritated than he already was with you. He wasn’t terribly upset, but he was definitely anxious about leaving, you trying to figure out why. Not only were you going out for a date, you were going out for the five year anniversary of your very first date, Tyson suggesting you recreate it: dinner at some random diner he had found that the two of you ended up loving, mini golf and then a walk through the park before the two of you went back to your own places.

The only difference would be, instead of him walking you home and saying he would love to see you again, he would be with you, going back to the apartment you both lived in for the last two years, as an engaged couple.

Nothing would go wrong tonight.

The two of you got into his car, plugging in the directions to the diner.

“When was the last time we even ate here?” you asked, staring at the map on your phone.

“I don’t know, maybe a year? Two years ago? We both just got so busy,” he responds.

You drive in silence the rest of the way, his hand on your thigh while he drove, moving it back and forth ever so slightly.

“The destination is on your left,” Siri prompts you, Tyson making the turn into the parking lot that had the diner.

“Um, what the fuck?” you ask, staring at an empty lot. There was nothing there: no cars, no people, no building. The diner was gone.

“Are you sure you put in the right address?” he asks you, starting to panic. This was supposed to be the night where everything was perfect.

“Yes, I did. Despite us having not been here for a few years, I still remember the address by heart. The Hollow was supposed to be right here,” you insist, trying to pull it up on Google to figure out what happened and what else was nearby. “Ah, here, it closed a year ago because of multiple failed health inspections.”

You both groan, disgusted by the thought of what could have resulted in its closure. “It’s ok, we’ll just find somewhere else to go.”

“I think there’s somewhere casual to eat around the mini golf place,” he says, tearing out of the lot to find the two of you something to eat. This was already not working in his favor, and he couldn’t risk anything else going wrong.

“There’s this pub right near it,” you tell him, looking up the restaurants in the area in listing them out before finally settling on a place, Tyson getting you in and out without really having the chance to enjoy the meal.

He rushed you to the car to get to the mini golf place, finding another abandoned lot. At least this time, there was some sort of structure present. You get out to check the notice on the door, unable to stifle your laughter when you read what it says. “The place closed twenty minutes ago,” you relay to Tyson, the additional driving and having to wait to eat probably sending you just over the edge of missing the time frame to enjoy the mini golf.

“Fucking great,” Tyson says, clearly upset while you just sat there and laughed a little. “What?”

“It’s just entertaining; like what are the chances that two of the places we wanted to go so badly were both closed, like the universe was trying to tell us no about something.”

Your words sent Tyson into a panic. He didn’t really believe in fate and the stars aligning and all that jazz, but did it mean something that his proposal plans were already ruined four times, now soon to be a fifth? Did that mean the ‘universe,’ or whatever, didn’t want the two of you married?

No. Again, he was just being dramatic. You were the one he loved more than anything, more than anyone. Without you in his life, it just felt empty. Yeah, he had hockey, but he never knew how full life could really be until you came into it. Every time you looked at him, his heart fluttered, when you spoke your words were burned in his memory, when you touched him, he never wanted you to stop. There was no one else he would rather spend the rest of his life with.

“We can still take a walk around the park?” he suggests. He drives away once you nod, again riding in silence to what would hopefully be the first part of your first date that actually gets recreated.

You get there, walking the path hand in hand, just talking about life as if you didn’t already know everything about each other. You didn’t have to care or understand what the other was saying, you just loved to hear them talk.

“Do you remember the time when we had first started dating when I almost left because I thought you stood me up?” you ask him, an embarrassed laugh escaping his lips.

“Ok, in my defense, Nate crashed my car that morning and I had to sort all of that out.”

“Why did you let him drive it when you knew his license was expired?”

Tyson shrugs, bringing your hands up to his lips to press a kiss to your knuckles. “I can’t say no to the people who mean the most to me.”

“You’ve said no to me multiple times,” you point out, the two of you laughing again.

“Clearly the guys mean more to me than you do,” he jokes.

Before you can say anything else, the two of you hear a crack of thunder, the rain starting before you even had the chance to react properly. Tyson takes off his coat, holding it over your heads as it starts pouring, the two of you running through the part to try to find any structure that could stop you from getting wet.

“This way,” Tyson nudges you, a gazebo that definitely was not there when you had your first date there to act as your shelter from the rain.

You were slightly out of breath, a little cold, and already knowing that this wasn’t the end of you getting rained on, seeing as you had to somehow get back to Tyson’s car in it unless it was short enough to wait out. You look around you, the white-painted wood in stark contrast to the green grass, the brown bark on the trees, the air around you occupied with a silvery shine from the constant rain.

“This is actually really calming,” you say, Tyson wrapping his arms around your waist as he hugged you from behind, your shirt sticking to your back as he pressed against you.

“It’s better here with you,” Tyson whispers, kissing the back of your head.

The two of you stand there for a moment, just watching the storm, listening for the thunder, and praying that there was no lightning that could hurt you. You feel him peel his arms from you, expecting him to just be readjusting.

“Tyson?” you ask, turning around to see him on one knee, finally down to ask you what he had been trying to for so long, a small velvet box, now slightly wet having been in his pocket, in his hands with what you knew had been the engagement ring you had been waiting for.

Tyson watches the tears form in your eyes, smiles covering both your faces. “I can’t even put into words how badly I’ve been wanting to give this to you. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” he says, opening the box. “Will you marry me?”

It was simple, with the person you loved the most, and it was absolutely perfect. “Of course, Tyson,” you tell him, watching him slip the ring on your finger, kissing each other as you finally got the chance to call him your finance, and hopefully in the near future, your husband.

[achillieus]

let you down. (sebastian stan x reader)

summary: it's a universal truth but it's worth repeating; feelings eat us raw. or just an actor and a girl falling in and out of love over the course of three months.

(this was inspired by sebastian's visit to greece for his movie, monday, and is based on that, so that means in the story we’re in 2018. also i have this posted on ao3 too but while i’m writing the last parts i thought of posting it here too)

pairing: sebastian stan x reader

warnings: alcohol, sexual references, implied depression, sebastian desperately needs to hug the reader, it's kinda slowburn because i love the yearning

(pinterest inspired board)

part: 1/6

(other parts)  (masterlist)

The day it happened, it wasn't a significant meeting at all, you barely even talked. In fact, when he opened the door of your neighbor’s flat that day with a beer in his right hand and his hair messy, he didn't have any effect on you. You always knew that living next to a director meant that sooner or later you’d bump into the pretty faces of well-known people. Sure, you didn’t expect them to be Hollywood actors like him, but to say you were starstruck by the man, would be the overstatement of the year.

The building you’ve lived in for the last three years has five floors; you live in the 4th, he lives in the 5th. He’s a quiet person, usually spending his evenings out of his apartment. You’ve talked sometimes, about the weather and the weird lady that lives in the 1st floor. You’ve never told him you find his directing style a little pretentious.

You’ve never been to his place until that annoyingly warm August evening, when you find a white button up shirt on your balcony. You can clearly see more clothing when you look up and you’re certain the item you’re holding belongs to him.

He’s not there though. Instead you find a different face behind the door. Lighter eyes and darker hair. The man in front of you is definitely younger than the director. You don’t bother to notice what he’s wearing.

“Can I help you?” His voice is deeper than you expected. Stronger, with a touch of European accent. The sound of English surprises you at first but soon you realize he must be another foreign coworker that came to visit your neighbor

“No, I just think Argyris dropped this and it ended up on my floor.”

He looks at you and then at the shirt, in your hands.

Then he says “Sure, I’ll take it.”

“Okay.”

Then it ends. He doesn’t even ask your name. You don’t have to ask his. You figure out, as soon as you walk down the stairs, that it’s Sebastian Stan that you just talked to.

And while being a big fan of marvel movies, you think nothing special of him at first. You just wonder how a mostly unknown director from Greece got an actor like Sebastian to come here so they can work together. It makes no sense to you, but you forget it when your phone starts ringing.

/

It would’ve been easier if you never saw him again, yet you do. You see him trying to understand what the old lady from the first floor is trying to tell him. You already know. The elevator is not working. The next day you see him walking up the stairs.

You exchange a quick hello, how are you and then off you both go.

The same night Argyris invites you to have a drink with them in the terrace. Part of you wants to just stay in bed and binge watch some Sherlock episodes. Part of you already thinks of what to wear.

There are around ten people there when you show up. They’re all sitting down in huge pillows drinking and talking loudly. You don’t know most of them.

You sit next to a blonde girl, across from Sebastian. This time you notice he’s wearing a plain black shirt and holds a glass of whiskey.

You don’t share any direct conversations but you learn that he’s afraid of growing old and that he thinks Taxi Driver is one fucking masterpiece, as he says.

When you mention that you’re probably the least artistic person in the room right now, you hear him laugh.

A curly haired woman starts dancing with him at some point. You decide he’s not a good dancer.

He leaves the same time you do, following you down the stairs.

“I thought you live here.” You say when he doesn’t stop at the floor you expect him to.

“Ah no, I stay at a hotel near the centre.”

He keeps talking about his suite until you reach your door.

You part in a blur, with a short goodbye.

He still doesn’t ask for your name.

It makes you feel genuinely offended.

/

Two days after, he is the farthest thing from your mind, until you find him sitting in front of your door, his eyes roaming the place with despair. And then he sees you.

“Ah finally you are here.” He starts casually. “Thank god.”

You just nod.

“Argyris told me to wait for him with you. We had a meeting but he got stuck in traffic.”

You give him a look.

“He said you’re always at home so you won’t mind.”

Ouch. Yeah sure, your social life wasn’t something to brag about but for some reason the way Sebastian said it, it sounded like an insult.

“Okay, come in.” You shrug, clearly not feeling comfortable and turn around to unlock the door.

You hear him call your name. You thought he didn’t know.

“Yes?”

He offers you an easy smile.  “Thank you.”

/

Sitting in your couch he’s eyeing the entire room, while you put some groceries in the fridge.

“Argyris says you’re a great girl.” He clears his throat. “But he thinks you’re too quiet for your own good.”

You look at him, your eyes flicking up and down his face.

“And from what I can tell, he’s right.”  You hear him laugh.

It felt weird to see him laugh while he was leaning back at your cozy pillow. He had entered your life so suddenly you didn’t even have time to react to it.

“I’m sorry but I barely know you.” Your words are sharp. He sits up.

“Okay then let’s get to know each other, what’s your favorite Disney princess?”

Defeated, you laugh. “Are you kidding me?”

“No, this is an important question.”

You wait for him to crack up but then you remember he’s an actor.

“I don’t know.” You think for a second. “Mulan?”

“Oh my god. Mulan is amazing.” You smile at him. “My favorite is Jasmine, she’s just so badass.”

You share your favorites that day, having almost nothing in common rather than your everlast love for animated movies and buttered popcorn.

When it’s time for him to leave, he stops and looks at you in the eye.

“You should talk more often.”

You stare at him with confusion. “I talk,” you raise your eyebrows. “When I have something to say.”

“Good.” he says, still looking.

/

Later in the evening, you’re eating some yoghurt when he comes knocking on your door.

He’s different. The white tank top he was wearing this morning is replaced with a dark shirt and his face looks tired. You assume they’ve been working since he went upstairs.

“Hiii”, he says dragging the i, “Am I interrupting anything?”

You desperately want to nod. You want to tell him that you were doing the most exciting thing in the world, before he came but you were never a good liar.

So you just tilt your head and take a step back.

That’s when he enters and is met with some loud rock music blaring from your laptop.

“You like AC/DC?” he asks, almost wide-eyed.

“Well, I can tell it’s them when I hear their stuff.”  For the first time that day, he seems to be in loss of words. “Why are you so surprised?”

He sits in the same spot in the couch as earlier and laughs.

“I just didn’t take you for the kind of girl who likes this music.” It’s your turn to laugh.

“Why?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know. Quiet girl who loves animated films and eats kids’ yoghurt” he looks at the carton in your kitchen table, “and also likes metal music? Doesn’t add up.”

“We’ve basically just met; you shouldn’t make assumptions about me.”

“Fair enough.” He sits back, fidgeting with his fingers.

You take some time just looking at him

There was a certain vibe about that man that made you wonder how it’d feel to cruise down a dessert highway in a convertible mustang with him. In the summer. With him wearing that white tank top.

The color of strawberries emerges at your cheeks just at the thought of it.

You wish he doesn’t notice.

You’re glad to find him looking the other way, before he speaks up.

“We’re going out tonight.” His voice is warm now. “Argyris says you should come along, even though I’m quite sure there’s no hardcore music where we’re going.” He laughs again.

I can’t. You almost say. But then anxiety slips away from you and out of sudden you want him to stop being so freaking arrogant, going around and acting like he knows exactly what kind of person you are.

He thinks you’ll say no. You can see it in his eyes.

“Sure, when should I be ready?” you say, surprising both of you.

He looks at you for some time and then trying to hide whatever he was thinking he says the first thing on his mind.

“How old are you?” He sounds pitiful. He knows. He wishes he could hit a wall; with his head.

“Twenty-one.” His eyes scan yours, unsure of what they’re looking for. “Why?”

“No reason.”

He inhales deep.

/

You try to blink. You’re at a party in a little bar you’ve never been before and a lot of people are wearing black. Alcohol. You can still taste it on the back of your tongue. You don’t remember how you end up pressed against a dark skinned man, but you can tell he smells of cigarettes and despair.

You sway your body to the beat, close your eyes. Breath in. And out. You think the music deafens you for a second but you open your lids and see Sebastian and he’s watching you, unashamed.

He’s not that far, though it feels like it with countless bodies in the way. The music melts. His gaze is almost angelic. Or devious. You can’t really tell.

He’s dancing with that curly haired woman again. You wonder how intimate their relationship is.

The red neon lights make his skin glisten. His muscles move divinely. It makes you think there’s an entire world inside him, his flesh barely keeping it hidden. Out of sudden you get the urge to walk towards him. You want to see him up close under this dim lighting. But you don’t move.

The man that’s groping your waist asks for your name. You tell him you need to flee. He doesn’t understand.

You sit outside with the sweet summer breeze touching your bare arms. The bass of the music in the background syncs with the beating of your heart. You can feel your ribs grow with every breath you take. Until you stop breathing because the door opens and his eyes suffocate you.

You can’t fathom the effect he has on you. He was a pretty face on screen some days ago. But right now he steals distance and stays near you.

You don’t look his way. He doesn’t say a word. Nicotine and smoke surround you as he exhales. His fingers hold the cigarette butt with care.

“Do you want some?”

You turn to look at him.

“I don’t smoke.” He laughs.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t want some.”

You want to know if his breath has the taste of sulfur. You want to pretend it’s the alcohol or the loud music that makes your head hurt.

“What’s the best part of being an actor?” The blue in his eyes glows.

There’s silence but he seems to be thinking about it.

“Do you ever feel things too much?” He says, his voice hoarse. “I mean, when you feel something so intensely it becomes a part of who you are.”

You nod. You understand.

“Acting allows you to let go of these feelings,” he starts. “You share the burden with the audience until it becomes light and you can hold it again.”

You look at him, shaking your head.

“I don’t think I could that,” you close your eyes. “I don’t think I could share what I feel so easily.”

He stands up. The wind hits you again.

“A lot people can’t. That’s why everyone is heartbroken,” he takes a breath, “Feelings eat us raw.”

You both go to bed alone that night. Tomorrow there is a hole next to you.

/

the morning after, search history

(02:45 PM) hangover recovery

(03:00 PM) best food after a hangover

(03:10 PM) sebastian stan

(03:30 PM) sebastian stan girlfriend

(06:00 PM) xanax side effects

/

You follow him on Instagram. He doesn’t follow you back. You remember he probably gets tons of followers every day and decide not to let it bother you. Instead you study for the exams of the following month.

The subject of your studies doesn’t interest you. Another poor decision you made under pressure. Sometimes you feel as if your life is borrowed from someone else. Sometimes you feel as if you haven’t found your home yet.

Feelings eat us raw.

His girlfriend looks beautiful in the pictures you find online. The media isn’t certain if they’re still together but you like to think so. It makes it easier to avoid him.

But the universe seems to be oblivious to your thoughts and you see him that same day. You’re taking the garbage out and he’s coming down from the top floor. You meet in the elevator.

“I’m glad to see you’re still alive,” his eyes are smiling as he talks “you looked kinda drunk last night.”

You fidget with the hem of the bag you’re holding.

“I wasn’t drunk.” You notice he’s growing some stubble. You’re not sure you like it.

“Whatever you say, doll.”  You bite your cheek trying to devour any sign that might give away how his words make you flinch.

He turns his body a little so now you’re facing each other. He’s so pretty. He’s so pretty in a way that doesn’t hurt. You try not to stare at him, but you fail sometimes. You’ve never noticed how slow the elevator moves until you want to get out. You can’t stand being so close to him for much longer.

He’s an arrogant rich actor who loves Disney and smokes a lot, you think. I have no reason to be affected by him.

“Ah! Argyris said we’re leaving for the weekend.” You eye him curiously. “He wants to show us some small villages in the south. He thinks we should get to know the country a little more before we start.”

You’re stunned by your neighbor’s dedication to his work. Sometimes you wish you had something you could be passionate about too. Sometimes you think you’re never going to find it.

“That’s great. I’m sure you’ll like it.” You give him a smile.

He leans his back at the wall. The elevator stops. Finally.

“I like your eyes.” You grab tight onto the bag. “But they don’t smile when you do.”

He opens the door and he’s gone.

They tell you that it’s fun to meet a famous person. They tell you, you can ask for a photo and a hug. They tell you celebrities don’t talk a lot but that doesn’t mean they’re rude.

But he’s not like that.

He’s fire. He’s burning heat and scorching flames. His words are his thoughts; raw. You don’t like it.

/

late night search history

(00:38 AM) blue valentine movie soundtrack

(01:15 AM) is sebastian stan a bad person

(01:30 AM) acting classes for amateurs

(01:50 AM) cheap leather boots

(02:10 AM) sebastian stan eyes

 You find it annoying; how he’s present even when you’re alone.

Thankfully he’s leaving for the weekend, you think.

/

The weekend, however, is two days away.

You think you can get away without seeing him. And you do. Until it’s late at night again. And they’re all upstairs with music so loud you’re certain the lady on the first floor is going to be rude about it in the morning.

The music tempo has you unaffected. All you think about is if he’s dancing with that woman again.

He’s such a bad dancer, he should not be dancing.

There’s a subtle knock on your door. You know it’s him. You hope you’re wrong.

“Do you feel like dancing?” His face is all flustered. It’s a good look on him.

“You can’t come knocking on my door at 2 AM and ask me to dance.” His gaze is filled with confusion.

“So you don’t feel like dancing?” You roll your eyes. He notices.

“That’s not the point Sebastian.” It’s the first time you call him by his name. You let it slip away slowly, testing the way it sounds coming out of your mouth.

He takes a step closer. You are suddenly aware of your pyjama shorts and your exposed skin.

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to irritate you.” His eyes are the cliché blue of the sky. “I just thought you might want to dance, that’s all.”

Suddenly you feel guilty and embarrassed. He’s oblivious to it.

For a moment you feel his eyes linger on you. It feels surreal.

You nod at him.

He’s ready to say something when Argyris comes down the stairs, his shirt slightly unbuttoned.

“Ah man, I thought you got lost or something.” You lower your eyes. “Stop messing with the poor girl. People are looking for you.”

He throws a smile at you and Sebastian takes a quick breath.

“People are always looking for me.”

He gives away that he’s carrying a burden. Your expression softens. But then you look at Argyris and you see he doesn’t really pay attention to these words.

You share a quick look before you’re there standing alone at your doorstep, trying to grasp the idea of him.

/

When you wake up you feel like running. You can’t fathom where the feeling comes from but it starts like a liquid running down your veins and soon you can’t stay in bed even for a second.

Feelings eat us raw. Only if you let them.

.

i really appreciate feedback, it motivates me tons and also tell me if you’d like to be tagged in this six part story :)

[juminsmysticmc]

Pregnancy Series - Part 3

Telling them 

Hey! So a lot of you have been waiting and I am honestly happy that you guys seem to like my pregnancy series! Please feel free to tell me your opinion with a comment or through a reblog ( I read every single # ) or just send me a message in my inbox! Hope you enjoy! 

Pregnancy Series: Part 1 // Part 2 

Jumin

You nervously rubbed your hands together as the weekend finally came.

Ever since Jumin married you, he decided to have his birthday parties only with you instead of throwing big parties with people he didn’t even like just because of his status.

But this time you prepared something special for him.

You decided to invite your father-in-law as well as the RFA, even Zen, at your place on the 4th of October to stay until Jumin’s birthday at midnight the 5th october.

For Zen, you even prepared your party room since your beloved cat wasn’t in every room of the big penthouse your husband owned.

And so you prepared everything without your husband’s knowing. To say it clearly, you made someone else prepare it because you were scared of hurting the baby, being overprotective since it took you so long to get pregnant.

Maybe you were too scared, but you knew that Jumin wouldn’t have wanted you to overwork yourself.

The room was decorated in gold and black colors and you also baked a big cake on your own, deciding to hide a long note into the cake, saying that you were pregnant. At the end of the note, a copy of your first picture of the baby was attached, showing Jumin that whatever was happening was real.

You knew that he would be more than happy to see this, to know about the baby you were carrying.

,,Finally ready,’’ you said and sighed, looking at your clock, knowing that at 8 PM everyone would come home to stay into the room before Jumin would come home with Jaehee from the office.

The first guest to arrive was your father in law. To your surprise, he didn’t take his girlfriend along, but since Jumin always had to prepare a second party for his status, your in-law promised you to bring her along the next day. Well, you knew that this wasn’t going to last for a long time, but to make the elder happy, you nodded and smiled, telling him that you were more than happy to be able to get to know her.

Lastly, Seven, Zen, and Yoosung arrived. Zen and Seven were arguing whether or not the red haired boy should kidnap his Elly.

,,I need to go home with you. You can’t take that fur ball with you!’’ he hissed.

You left the men alone for a second before you waited for the final guest - your husband, of course followed by Jaehee who just sent you a message about her arrival.

Jumin was puzzled at first when you invited Jaehee inside and led the way to another part of the penthouse, but since it was you who asked, it was okay, you were his wife after all.

The surprise party, however, made him emotional and you knew that Jumin was touched just by his mimicry and how he stood there, you knew your husband.

,,I have a present for you, but you will only be allowed to have it at midnight!’’ you teased him after he gave you a long, lovely kiss.

Staying awake almost four hours more was hard for you. Since you knew that you were pregnant, you were even sleepier, but for Jumin you could manage to stay awake. You had to.

,,IT’S MIDNIGHT! BRING THE CAKE!’’ Seven screamed in excitement, making you a bit nervous.

Yoosung carried the cake into the room after you kindly asked him to, as you all sang ,,Happy Birthday’’ to him.

,,Thank you, my love,’’ he whispered and kissed you again, ready to blow his candles.

,,Before you cut the cake, Jumin,’’ you said as he stood there with a knife already ,,here’s something you have to pull out. Read it out loud,’’ you said.

You pressed your lips together as you waited for him to pull out the long white note until finally the first words appeared. ,,I…..’’ he said, he smirked, thinking that the note was ,,I love you’’

,,A….M…..P...R...E...G…-’’ he looked at you in shock before he pulled the note even quicker out of the cake, seeing the last picture of an ultrasound.

For the first time, all members of the RFA saw Jumin Han cry real tears by the man they always called ,,cold hearted’’ as he hugged his wife and kissed her with a lot of love, thanking her over and over again.

,,This is the best present ever,’’ he hiccuped and kneeled down to kiss your flat belly.

Zen

,,You will surely be a good mother!’’ the chocolate lady praised you as she gave you the white chocolate with the baby sonogram of your baby.

You quickly went back in and prepared a few more things. The chocolate was ready, you thought you would now take a little package and put balloons around the chocolate so that it would float up as soon as Zen would open the box.

Since the chocolate was in a cute packaging too, you put a note on it saying to open it immediately to see the surprise.

You guessed that this would be the perfect Valentine’s Day gift.

Then you also decided to bake a few muffins, not just for Zen, but also because you wanted to slowly get used to the idea of baking cakes for your future child.

That evening, you tried your best to act normal because you were overloading with happiness and excitement.

The next day, you woke up pretty quickly. One of the reasons was because you had the urge to throw up and the other reason was because you wanted to drop the news as soon as possible.

,,Mc, did you get checked up? Like-’’

,,Hyun, it’s just a virus. That’s why I had to cancel our reservation at the hospital,’’ you groaned as you again had to empty your stomach.

,,Of course, baby,’’ he whispered, holding your hair as he kept rubbing your back.

At times like these, he wished you could be like him, healing and getting better quickly.

But he also knew that you were a strong woman and didn’t have any problems.

,,Okay, I’m better,’’ you gasped as you went to wash your mouth. The taste you had in your mouth wasn’t really yummy and so you brushed your teeth before you decided to give him his present.

,,Here, for you,’’ you whispered as you laid back in bed, feeling a bit lightheaded.

Zen’s eyes went soft as he saw the big box, placing it on the floor and sitting next to it to open the present.

Just like you wanted, the balloons flew up, pulling the chokolate up.

Zen quickly grabbed the present and read the note out loud.

,,I’m excited. I never thought that Valentine’s Day could become so special one day,’’ he laughed.

You slowly teared up as you thought about how much better and special this day would become.

Zen opened the chocolate and inspected the picture.

He stayed silent for a second before he looked up at you again.

,,Really?’’ he asked you, whispering as his tears found a way out.

,,Really, Hyun, really.’’

Yoosung

You hurried home after the appointment, thinking about the best way to tell your husband that you were pregnant.

After you decided to take a look at some Pinterest boards, you decided to sew a little baby out of his clothes.

You once saw it in a drama and it was, in your opinion, the cutest idea.

And so, you took an old shirt of his and went down to the city, buying some stuff to fill your baby.

It took you the whole day to sew that baby, to first cut the material, put it together in a little cute baby outfit, and patch it together.

You were really happy back then; your teacher taught you how to sew at the machine and your mother bought you one back then.

Right when Yoosung entered, you just finished the little baby.

You were proud of yourself and were more than happy that you could hide the present before he came home.

,,Hello, my wife,“ he smiled and kissed you, seeing that you were in a better mood than in the morning.

,,You haven't cooked yet? Wanna do it together?“ he asked you, seeing that nothing was prepared.

,,Oh, I need to be honest. I took a good rest today and I forgot that it was already so late,“ you lied.

,,It’s okay! I can also order some sushi or-”

,,No sushi!“ you called, looking away.

,,Can we eat pizza?“ you asked him, trying to hide the fact that you preferred to not eat raw fish.

And so you both did, although Yoosung was kind of puzzled when you didn’t take the wine you both usually drank while eating pizza.

The day went by and the next morning finally arrived. You were happy to wake up just in time to set the table, prepare the breakfast, and put his bag with the baby doll on his seat.

,,Happy eighth anniversary,“ he whispered and kissed you, hugging your body from behind, nuzzling his head in your neck.

,,Eight years already,“ you sighed happily and turned around, ready to give him a deep, lovely kiss on his lips.

Yoosung quickly sat down, giving you his hand over the table as he put some sugar in his coffee.

,,That’s for you,“ he told you, giving you an envelope.

You smiled.

,,The bag in front of you is from me for you,“ you told him, as if someone else could have made him a present.

The both of you decided to open your present at the same time.

And once again, you surprised each other.

,,You want to adopt a child?“ you asked him as he almost screamed ,,YOU’RE PREGNANT?“

You both laughed at the same time. Yoosung quickly got up from his chair, getting on his knees as he kissed your belly with tears in his eyes.

,,I knew it! No sushi, no wine! I knew it!“ he sobbed, stroking the place where his baby was supposed to be.

,,Such a little human being will grow up here. Can you believe it?“ Yoosung asked you.

You were also now sobbing, shaking his head as you stroked his fluffy hair ,,Finally, Yoosung, finally,“

Jaehee

Your girlfriend couldn’t wait to hug you, hold you in her arms and so, as soon as she caught a glimpse of you at the train station, she hugged you, sobbing into your shoulder.

It was cold outside and you luckily came back right in time before the holy days of Christmas.

Jaehee still hugged you when suddenly, something soft and cold touched your nose, making you look up into the sky.

,,The first snow,’’ you whispered, making Jaehee loosen up her hug and look up too.

She chuckled as she knew that you loved the snow.

A few seconds later, the both of you walked hand in hand towards your shop. Jaehee was happy as you seemed to be in a happy mood.

Your fingers felt hot as hers were entangled in yours, stroking the skin of your finger with her thumb.

,,Go and take a warm shower. I will make us some food,’’ she mumbled and quickly left you alone.

And so, while the warm water of your shower hit your body, warming you up and relaxing your muscles, you thought of a way to tell Jaehee that you two finally did it.

Suddenly, you got a very good idea. Lately, you were into sublime stitching and found it hard to find new things to stitch, but now that you had your first ultrasound, you finally had a new challenge to take!

You copied your first ultrasound and sent it to your favorite artist, who was more than happy to make your ultrasound into a pattern with ink.

Just like always, you ironed the picture with the hot iron on your fabric, but this time you didn’t buy the pattern and indeed used your own.

You smiled as you saw how good it worked out. You were really proud of yourself that the first step was already so well done! 

But you couldn’t keep going as Jaehee called you to open the shop with her.

And so the weeks went by. You luckily didn’t have any symptoms that could have ruined the surprise for Jaehee.

You wanted to give it to her as a Christmas present after all.

You kept stitching along the line, slowly and accurately so that everything would look nice and neat.

When you finally finished, you felt yourself becoming emotional. This was now real, this present and this baby was really happening to you and Jaehee, who waited for so long for this.

The last step was to wash the fabric so that the blue ink would disappear, making it look once again much more beautiful.

,,I can’t wait for Christmas,’’ you chuckled to yourself and put the present into a little box.

,,You really didn’t have to,’’ Jaehee whispered the morning of Christmas Eve.

The both of you sat on your couch in front of your Christmas tree.

It was warm and cozy in your living room as you both were wearing the same Christmas hoodies.

You excitedly looked over to Jaehee as she opened the box.

Her fingers followed every stitched line, her lips began to tremble and it seemed as if she couldn’t breathe calmly.

You were getting worried, but soon enough Jaehee looked at you.

,,Is that yours?’’ she asked her, her voice was cracking.

,,Yes. I didn’t have the flu or covid, I’m pregnant,’’ you laughed.

Jaehee hugged you, not too strong, stroking the back of your hair as she enjoyed the warmth of your body.

,,I don’t have such a great present,’’ she laughed and kissed your cheek.

Saeyoung

The birthday of the twins was slowly approaching. By now you were eight weeks pregnant.

You still had symptoms and felt sick. Sometimes you couldn’t even cook, making Saeyoung worry for you, but you knew that this was worth it.

You chuckled as you thought about your self made toy you prepared as a present for Saeyoung. It was a toy he had to play first before the news of your pregnancy would be announced.

It took you a while to construct everything.

It was a game where he had to put cards together. To put them together, he had to form different sentences in different languages.

Matching cards would give him a letter and afterwards those letters would give him the sentence ,,You will be soon a daddy!’’ but of course, he had to also form this sentence.

Since it was kind of difficult to perform this all in Hangul, you decided to make it an english game.

For Saeran, you prepared a little teddy bear which would say ,,Hello Uncle’’ but of course, he wasn’t allowed to open his present until Saeyoung played with his present.

The 11th of June quickly approached you guys as you woke up one morning. Luckily, you still didn’t feel sick.

You hugged Saeyoung as you woke him up with a sweet kiss ,,Good morning,’’ you whispered, making him groan, but not open his eyes.

,,Hello, how did you sleep?’’ you asked him when he turned his body to you and hugged you back.

,,Good, but being awake next to you is better,’’ he whimpered and almost fell asleep again.

,,Ya! Your birthday breakfast is waiting for you!’’ you hissed and laughed.

He immediately jumped up, yelling for his brother. ,,SAERAN, YOU ARE TURNING A YEAR OLDER!’’ he laughed, making you shake your head.

But you were happy that Saeyoung finally found his brother. You could just imagine how it must have been for him to miss his second half for all those years.

And even though Saeran didn’t admit it, he probably missed his brother too.

The three of you were sitting around the table as they ate their soup. It was a special soup for their birthday.

,,I will give you your birthday present later when the other’s are here too,’’ you told them both, making your husband especially sad. ,,You always want your present at midnight and now I have to wait?’’ he asked you, whining as you laughed at him.

,,It’s special, that’s why,’’ you told him, making him sulk.

,,My presents are always special,’’ he whined but didn’t say anything anymore as he enjoyed his food.

You were nervous as the RFA came one by one. By now, you guys were always together. You saw yourselves as a family.

,,Okay guys, because of you I couldn’t open my present!’’ he whined and finally unpacked the box. At first he looked a bit… puzzled, which made you chuckle.

You explained to him how to play and even persuaded him to play on his own.

,,Boring that everyone is watching me,’’ he mumbled as Saeran kept patting his present, you told him he wasn’t allowed to open it yet.

,,Is that german? ,,Wir müssen…’’ what?’’ he laughed.

But one by one he did it and finally had the single letters that would give the hidden message.

,,I am pregnant, I don’t even have to think about it, that’s the message, right?’’ he said and immediately looked up at you, already in tears.

By now, Saeran too, unpacked his bear and in a big family embrace, Saeyoung cried into your shoulder.

Saeran

After you were brought to the maternity ward and they did some more tests, it seemed that it was official that you were pregnant!

Saeran got up as soon as he saw you walking out of the big doors.

,,Is it something serious? It took you so long and no one wanted to say anything,’’ he whined and took your hand between his, massaging your palm as he slowly walked out with you.

,,I just had to wait a long time,’’ you lied and smiled at him, trying to convince him that you just had a mere virus.

And so the days passed again and you worked on a present for Saeran who was a soon to be father.

You put a lot of thought into it and decided that doing something handmade would be much better than just telling him.

That’s why you decided to give him something your baby would get - a handmade baby blanket with his favorite flower patched on it.

You put a lot of hard work into it, using the best material and the most beautiful colors.

And since the gender was still unknown, you decided to go for a light beige color with some red details.

In the end, the blanket looked just too cute and it hit you - you were pregnant.

The day was nothing special when you told Saeran that you would like to go and eat an ice cream with him, something he agreed to immediately.

He took a few hours free and hand in hand with you, he went to buy ice cream for the both of you, enjoying the sun on your skin and the nature around you.

,,What do you have in that bag?’’ he asked you after a while, still licking his ice cream as he pointed at the little bag in your hand.

,,Nothing,’’ you began, ,,just something little I want to give you,’’ you told him, making him excited to know what you would like to give him.

To prevent the blanket from getting dirty, you decided to wait until the both of you were finished with the ice cream, giving you the chance to talk to Saeran a bit more about his day and your day.

,,Okay, now I’m ready,’’ he nodded and looked at the bag. He couldn’t wait to see what you had prepared for him in there.

He opened the bag and pulled out the self made blanket, observing every little detail.

He tilted his head as he looked at the length of it.

,,It’s a bit too little for you, right?’’ you laughed, making him laugh too.

Suddenly, Saeran saw a little note in there.

,,It’s not for you, it’s for your baby, Dad. Congratulations…’’ he whispered and put the note back into the bag, looking at the tiny blanket again.

You knew that he was happy, but probably overwhelmed with this news and so you decided to wait a few moments.

But as soon as the news arrived in his head, Saeran couldn’t prevent himself from hugging and thanking you a thousand times.

,,You...you always make me so happy…!’’ he whined.

,,I will give my best to become a good father,’’ he said with a trembling voice.

,,I won’t become like my parents. I will be a good one and I will protect you and our unborn child,’’ he whispered, his hand on your belly by now.

,,I promise,’’ he nodded.

,,I trust you, Saeran.’’

Jihyun

As soon as Saeyoung heard those words, he began to tear up and hugged you, patting your back. He was just so happy for you and Jihyun as he knew that the both of you had a hard time lately.

,,Let’s get back and prepare something!’’ he said in his mischievous smile and helped you to get into the car.

Of course, to keep it fair, Saeyoung wasn’t allowed to tell anybody. Instead, the both of you planned on how to tell Jihyun who would soon come back home.

,,How about I make a computer print of your future family and he has to paint it in little colors? We will just make it with so many details that he won’t notice from the beginning that it’s a family picture of four!’’ Saeyoung chuckled. You loved the idea and were more than happy to go with it.

You and Saeyoung worked on the details while the rest of the RFA weren’t at your home as they too had their personal lives.

Saeyoung and Saeran, however, stayed with you partly because Saeyoung prepared the surprise with you, but also because they both were worried.

When you finally finished with the layout and Saeyoung helped you to print it out, you wouldn’t be able to tell that this was a picture of a family.

,,I wonder how he will react,’’ you laughed and thanked him for his hard work.

,,Those were the longest six weeks I’ve ever experienced,’’ you whimpered when Jihyun finally arrived at home, Lucy on your hand, also more than happy to see her father.

Hugging the both of you, he nodded in agreement.

,,I also missed the both of you,’’ he said honestly.

Quickly letting him step in, you took his stuff and helped him to unpack before you told him that dinner would be soon ready.

,,I have a little challenge for you,’’ you laughed as you went back to your room to take the picture you prepared for him.

,,Oh, I saw that on Instagram,’’ he nodded, as he remembered the logic of the painting.

,,Yes, but I did this myself,’’ you said proudly, handling it over to him.

He laughed happily ,,I’m excited to work on it, thank you!’’ he laughed.

,,Yes, but there’s a hidden message in it so you need to hurry with it!’’ you told him, not knowing that you encouraged him to work on it the whole night after you fell asleep that night.

In the morning, when you just opened your eyes and saw his black bags below his eyes, paint all over his hands, you knew that he overworked himself.

,,Will we be able to adopt a child?’’ he asked you, his voice was raspy as he asked you, tears in his eyes, excited to know the answer.

You slowly shook his head, making him wonder if his sleepy eyes made him see something he just wanted to see.

But you didn’t want to tease him anymore so you finally told him. ,,I’m pregnant, Jihyun. I wasn’t sick back then, I was just… pregnant! I was having symptomes. We will have a child together soon!’’ you told him, slowly getting up from the bed.

,,I’m so happy,’’ he sighed and kissed your belly.

,,I will never go away for such a long time, I swear,’’ he whispered and then, with his knees on the floor and head on your lap, slowly fell asleep….

Vanderwood

You observed Vanderwood, noticing that the mood was being off for a few days.

To be honest, it was happening ever since you told him that you wanted to stop trying to have children for the time being.

Your eyes followed Vanderwood as he walked out and took out a cigarette, sluggishly smoking and looking around.

You began to chew on your lips as you thought back, maybe beginning the topic with ,,Yo’’ wasn’t the best way to start.

But there was no way back now and it didn’t matter anymore since you finally got pregnant.

You hoped that a day later, Vanderwood’s birthday, this silence between the both of you would be over finally as you wanted to surprise him with a self made cake which said, ,,Hello Daddy!’’

Of course, you firmly told him to not look at it, something he would never do since he knew how much you liked to surprise him.

,,Vandy,’’ you called him softly.

,,Don’t call me like that,’’ he groaned, a bit annoyed as he closed the door.

,,Are you angry at me?’’ you asked him, scared for his answer.

Vanderwood turned his body to you.

He didn’t look happy and you just noticed.

,,I’m not angry, I’m just… I have the feeling that you don’t really care about having a family with me while I work my ass of and-’’

,,Woah, what gives you that idea?’’ you asked him, slowly getting off the couch and looking at him.

You didn’t want to fight with him, but his comment… hurt you deeply.

,,Last time, sorry, but you approached the topic totally wrong!’’ he hissed, on his way to the kitchen.

You followed him there. He was partly right, you thought.

,,But, I was just… I didn’t know how to tell you, but this doesn’t mean that I don’t care,’’ you told him, your trembling voice making him look back at you.

,,I know. It still hurts though,’’ he whispered and opened the fridge to take out a cold drink.

,,You know what,’’ you told him, holding onto the door of the fridge and pulling out the cake you made for him which was covered with something so that he couldn’t see what was written on it with the chocolate.

,,What-’’ before Vanderwood could even say anything, you showed him the cake you prepared for him with the note written on it that you were pregnant.

,,It’s true. I was mean and I should have approached you differently, but I was so down, I didn’t think I could get pregnant anytime soon and- just don’t say anymore that I don’t care,’’ you finished your sentence and looked up, your tears were rolling down your cheeks as you were unsure of what to do now.

But Vanderwood knew what he had to do and softly took you in his arms, laying you down in the other room and kissing your neck.

,,You destroyed my surprise,’’ he whispered, giving you a kiss again.

,,Sorry for being selfish. I was mean while you’ve been carrying my baby,’’ he honestly apologized, stroking your flat womb as you sobbed into his shoulder.  

Part 4.1 of my pregnancy series here 

MASTERLIST 1

MASTERLIST 2

MASTERLIST 3

🤰🏻ᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀɴᴄʏ sᴇʀɪᴇs🤰🏻Masterlist here

16.05.2021// 00:12 MEST

[wesimpforxiao]

Say My Name and I’ll Be There:  5.2

Author’s Note:  I saw this on pinterest and thought it applied to Xiao XD  P.S.  Do you readers like that the story is in 2nd POV, or should I change it to 3rd person?  My thinking is this POV allows me to get away without mentioning appearances or a chosen name so ya’ll could be put in OC’s shoes?

..............................

Is it just me, or is he looking my way?  You caught Childe in the act while you and your team retreated into the opposite tree line after Aether had taken the dragon tooth.  Something didn't feel right.  The trees seemed to close in on you like tunnel vision.  Was he planning on attacking you with the skirmishers at his side? Was he going to show his true colors now?  Is it time to face death?

He dismissed the soldiers and retreated from the direction you had all spotted the skirmishers in the first place.  He made a point to cast a meaningful glance your way.

I can't let it happen now, you looked to each of your teammates as you all ran through the snowy woods.  If he brought all of those Fatui agents on board with taking you out, the entire group would be overwhelmed.  The sheer cold puts us at a disadvantage.  Bennett could get hurt.  Xiao can't fight with his full strength.  When was the last time Aether and Childe sparred?  I can't rely on those results to protect me either.  

No one was paying attention; you could slip away and try to strike a deal with the Harbinger.  Bargain for Xiao's freedom and safety. You were hypersensitive to the weight of your coat on your shoulders, and the crunching of snow beneath your boots.  He can't hurt us now...not now!

You peeled away from the group and they continued to run towards a cave several hundred yards from their current position.  No one had heard you.  When you finally reached the first firepit, you found Childe waiting next to it.

"Oh there you are, ojou-chan!  Did you get the tooth? Where are the others?  They didn't run into trouble, did they?"  He greeted you with his signature friendly stature.

"Drop the act, Childe." You came to a halt maybe ten feet from him, with your back to the firepit.  It warmed your body significantly and you could finally feel your fingers and toes again.  He was on the far end of the open area.

"Whatever do you mean, ojou-chan?"  The mask didn't crack.

"We're alone now.  Is that what you wanted?"

Childe stared at you for a moment before breaking out into a loud fit of laughter.  "Oh ojou-chan, you know me so well〰"  He took a couple steps toward you.  "You should know I've been meaning to talk to you."

"That's close enough."  He stopped.  "I know what you're after."

"Oh?"  A dangerous glint sparked in his eyes, one that you've never seen before.  "Enlighten me then."

"I don't want Xiao dragged into whatever mess you brought upon us.  Whatever your plan entails, it ends with me."

"A noble sacrifice for a man that will not love you," he smirked.  "Why do you try to protect him when he can clearly fight for himself?"

"He's been through enough already," your hands closed into fists as you recalled his horrific past.  "I'll go with you, but only if you give me your word you won't take him too."

"Ha!  I feel no need to fight you, ojou-chan."  The sincerity in his voice attracted your gaze back to him.  "I don't wish to hurt you."

"Huh..?"  That's out of character.  Is this some sort of trap?

"I...have other goals in mind.  They require your cooperation, of course.  And your cutting of ties with the adeptus."

"Cutting ties?  Why would I do that?"  Your brows furrowed.

"My loyalty lies with the Tsaritsa, but I have a special interest with this mission after meeting you, ojou-chan," he made his way closer, and you stood in total confusion.  "I will personally see to it that you will not get harmed at all in Snezhnaya.  It all depends on your answer."

"You...I don't get what you mean.  What answer?  What exactly are you asking of me?"  Whatever it was, you sure as hell weren't going to agree with it.  But as soon as the questions left your lips, you knew.

He does like you.

Childe took note of the realization--and the fear--on your face and continued. "Surrender is a valid option, I promise I'll be gentle.  This is a simple route that avoids all the fighting and pain.  All you need to do is allow me to love you, and I won't harm your friends.  You have my word."

"L-love me?"  The words left a terrible taste in your mouth.  "I...I could never!  I could never love you, either!  You killed my Granny...you stole her house from her frail hands.  You...You!" Your sword made a metallic sound as it was unsheathed.

Childe inhaled and manifested his bow.  He nocked an arrow onto his finger and drew the string to his cheek.  "A most expected answer, ojou-chan.  Thank you for strengthening my resolve.  This will be much more enjoyable now."  Whatever turmoil that shone in his eyes was long gone  and replaced with pure malice.  "Let's make this a fair fight."  The arrow shot into the fire and extinguished it.

"Tch." You ran toward him as fast as you could in the snow, and crossed sword with lance.

"Not bad," your opponent grinned with satisfaction.  "Where'd you learn this technique from?"  You somehow managed to keep up with his unrelenting blows thanks to the muscle memory that belonged to Xiao.  "I don't recall the adeptus ever training you."

"Ngh!"  He landed a kick to your stomach and you fell into the snow.  Childe let you get back up, completely high on the thrill of fighting you and more than intent on dragging it out so he could watch your fighting spirit diminish.  I may be keeping up with him, but I can't land a solid blow like this.  You slowly removed your two remaining jackets and tossed them into the snow next to the extinguished firepit.  If I can somehow finish the fight quickly...You knew it was a hopeless battle.  A fight between a non-vision wielder and a harbinger that wields both vision and delusion? Complete and utter self-annihilation will ensue.

"I admire your tenacity, comrade," he watched the jackets fall.  "But now that I have my answer, there's no reason to wait any longer."  He shoved his lance towards you when your guard was down.

"I won't let you hurt him!"   You swung your blade to parry, and a sudden blast of material sent the two of you flying backwards into the snow.  Your vision was suddenly looking into the tree canopy.  "Ugh, wha--?"  You sat up to find ice shards scattered across the snow.  Something cool and metallic sat in your free hand.  You opened your palm to reveal what you least expected.

A vision.

You stared at your hand with bewilderment while Childe rose to his feet with a mixture of shock, admiration, and annoyance.  "I see.  An unexpected development," he remarked with cold eyes.  "It's a shame you won't have the chance to wield it properly against me.  He drew his bow and aimed for your chest.  Another block of ice manifested before the arrow could pierce you.

You placed the artifact into your jean pocket, and you rose to your feet with a newfound confidence.  Maybe you could beat him here and now.  Images of Xiao's fights involuntarily crossed your mind, and a lance of ice materialized in your hand.  You held it so that the tip pointed directly at Childe.

Another clashing of blades, this time converting Childe's into an ice sculpture.  But not before you had managed to freeze his leg into the snow for a hot second.  You ducked at his swings, parried his attacks, and followed through with a sequence of your own--or rather Xiao's--attacks.  It looked like you were gaining the upper hand until Childe caught your blade in his gloved palm.

"Thank you for the entertainment, ojou-chan," he growled.  "But this is where it ends for you."  Did you really think he hadn't studied your newfound techniques during your previous fighting session?  So naïve of you, ojou-chan.  You can't use the same tricks twice.

You retracted your weapon and lay waste another blow.  He easily parried it.  You engaged in a combo before swiping your feet at his legs; he leapt away before you could knock him down.  You were frustrated now, your movements becoming sloppier with each passing movement.

There's the real you, he mused.  His frozen blade dug into your dominant shoulder with such force that he had you pinned to a tree.  He felt nothing but sadistic pleasure course through his veins at the sight of you squirming in pain.

"Gah!" A shriek escaped your lips and your lance dropped from your hand.  You tried to claw the spear out of your body as he stalked ever closer to you.

"I don't even need Foul Legacy to kill you. You could never defeat me, not even in your wildest dreams," Childe stalked towards you as he twirled a new hydro polearm behind his body, stopping once its blade pressed against your neck.  He could kill you in an instant, and he would if he wasn't required to bring you alive.

You were seething with anger and hatred. It was stupid of you to go after him on your own, to seek a peaceful resolution to this conflict when you knew all along that there wouldn't be one. It didn't matter now. Your anger subsided, shoulders releasing themselves from the tension in your muscles once you thought of an idea. Even the pain in your dominant shoulder seemed to subside a bit.  Your sudden change in demeanor made Childe's grip loosen for a moment as he questioned the newfound peace emanating from you.

Your eyes closed and your lips curled into a smile. Adeptus Xiao, you called to him in your heart.Please hear me and answer my prayer for protection.

A sudden gust of wind blew against your back, and Childe faltered. He looked to you for an explanation, and you met his gaze through his mask. "I know, but he can."

Xiao burst into Childe at an incredible speed, knocking him square into another tree. The trunk splintered in half from the force.  He conjured his polearm and held its blade at Childe's throat. "Why the sudden politeness in your prayers?" He called out over his shoulder without taking his eye off the Harbinger.  I'm cursed with hearing her rambling whenever I'm gone, and only now she speaks politely to an illuminated adeptus?  Despite that thought, he actually loved hearing your voice reach his ears.

"I-I don't know.." WAIT, he COULD hear me all this time?!  Blush further tinted your pink cheeks that were red from the sheer cold.

"Tsk," Childe spit blood onto the snow and glared at the yaksha.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't decapitate you here."

Childe wasn't going to give him a reason and debated on conjuring his polearm instead.  Here he was, about to die at the hands of the damned yaksha, and all because he had decided to give you a chance to 'escape' a portion of the hardship that awaited you.  Signora would lose what respect she had for him if she ever found out.  Oh well.

"Ngh," you writhed against the tree.  Your feet were just inches from solid ground, making this injury all the more painful as you hung from the lance.  You couldn't move your dominant arm anymore.  Xiao let go of Childe's collar and moved to your aid.  He slipped your other arm over his shoulder so he could relieve the pressure off of your injury, then yanked the spear out without warning.  Your shout of pain scared the nearby foxes away.

Xiao gave the Harbinger one last glare before he lifted you in his arms and took off at an incredible speed.  It was only a matter of seconds before the two of you caught up with the rest of the group, who were waiting just inside a small cave that held mysterious lab equipment.

"Be careful,"  the yaksha set you on your feet but refused to remove your arm from around him.

"There you are!  W-where'd Childe go?"  Bennett paled when he saw your injury.  "Here, let me see that."  Aether, Paimon, and Xiao exchanged knowing looks while Bennett examined your shoulder.  "You should sit down.  This isn't anything I can't fix!"

"What happened? Did Childe...?" Aether trailed off once he returned with a bowl of water from a boiling pot.  

"Mn," you winced when Bennett peeled your shirt off of your bloody skin.  "I thought he was conspiring with those agents when we were making a run for it, so I followed him."

"A foolish decision," Xiao grumbled.  He took the water from Aether and held it to your lips.

"Were you at least able to find anything else out about his plans? Or Signora?"  Paimon spoke up.  "It's not worth getting hurt over if you just throw yourself in harm's way like that."

"I thought he was going to..." your eyes flicked to Xiao's for a split second before they fell to the ground.  '--Hurt you,' you wanted to say.  But the yaksha would not hear of it if you said something so foolishly naïve.  You were just a measly human after all, with little knowledge of fighting and a large heart that wanted to protect those around her.  A big heart could only go so far; it proved useless in your battle today.  Or did it?  You nearly jumped up when you remembered, "I have something! I got something from this!"  Your loud yelp scared the daylights out of Bennett, and he nearly yanked the stitch out that he had just put into your skin.  You dug into your pocket and pulled out the artifact.

"Is that--?!"  Paimon and Aether sprung to their feet simultaneously.

"A vision?"  Xiao's eyes widened slightly.  And a cryo one, at that.

"So cool!" Paimon spun around with excitement.  "You're officially one of us now! Er, not that you weren't to begin with--"

"Congrats,"  Aether nodded and flashed you a toothy grin.  

"Yeah, congrats!"  Bennett also flashed you a bright smile and observed the trinket in your palm.  "Wow, we're like, polar opposites!"

"Heh, yeah," you nodded with a faint smile.  Your eyes found Xiao's, which were locked onto your vision.  "Xiao?"

"You received a blessing from the very god that's hunting you.  Do you not find that odd?"  His lack of enthusiasm made your chest ache in disappointment.  

Was he not proud of such an accomplishment?

"Yeah now that you mention it," Paimon held her chin and thought.  "It is really weird.  Why would she make her target more powerful? Wouldn't that just make it more difficult for her to capture you?"

"Did Childe say anything about it?"  Aether prompted.

"No," you shook your head slightly and pursed your lips.  "He seemed as surprised as I was."

To be blessed with the cryo vision, one must commit an act that revolves around love, Xiao's brows furrowed.  Had she done something on the behalf of her grandmother, or is this all in the Cryo Archon's plan?  It never crossed his mind that you had gotten it on his behalf.

[jeonqquk]

tattooing | jjh

Pairing- Jaehyun X Reader

Genre/ Tags- fluff, crack, bi jaehyun, lucas royally fucks up, tattooing

Age rating- 13+

Word count- 2.6k words

Summary- Tattooing doesn’t go as planned.

POV- Third person

Your whining wasn’t gonna get you anywhere, you were well aware of the fact. But you supposed that you might as well give it a shot. The ‘it’ here being the fact that you really wanted Jaehyun to get a tattoo. It wasn’t that you wanted to somehow blackmail Jae into getting a tattoo. Oh god, no. You’d never want that. It was just that you had always been fond of tattoos, the meaningful ones, not the totally unnecessary, really weird looking, out of the world ones. Jaehyun with a tattoo would be fucking hot though, that was just a plus point- not the main reason as to why you wanted him to get one. 

You were thinking a sweet quote or something, but that would only be possible of he was willing to get one.

“Jae, baby, what do you think about getting a tattoo?” your boyfriend of 3 years sighs, rubbing his hand on your knee that had been placed on his thigh. “I don’t know..maybe later. Why are you so intent on me getting a tattoo though?” he wiggles his eyebrows, suggestively or whatever, and you look at him in confusion, trying your level best to stop the blood threatening to creep up your cheeks. You clear your throat and reply simply “I feel like a tattoo would be beautiful. Just permanently inked onto your skin. It should be something purposeful though. I don’t want you going bald and tattooing a zipper on your scalp.” 

A snort is heard from him “Don’t worry, I’m not going bald. Although it’s a very tempting idea.” Rolling your eyes at his lame comment, you sit up and move over to cuddle closer to him on the couch. He wraps his left arm around you “Why don’t you get a tatto Y/n?” he questions and you look up at him in mild shock. Well, you could get a tattoo. You are of legal age and stuff but the thought had never crossed your mind. You don’t know why.

“....I could...” Jaehyun smiles, his dimples popping out and you can’t help but mirror the sweet action. “So why don’t you? We’re not even doing anything and I know for a fact that you have a lot of designs saved on your Pinterest board. Even if they were for me, you can try finding one that suits you too.”

Suddenly feeling giddy, you quickly grab your phone from the coffee table and unlock it, clicking on the app you needed. As you find the board, you see that you’ve gained 18 followers in the time span of 2 weeks. Huh.

As you scroll through the pins of small intricate designs that could be engraved onto a finger or hand, Jaehyun points out one that looked like watercolour art and was in the form of a small flower with red petals. It did look quite cute, to be honest. “Hmm, this does look nice. Won’t it look good on my collarbone?” Jaehyun nods in agreement “I was thinking that too.” Smiling up at him, you look into his eyes “Well, should I get this?” Your boyfriend chuckles at your excitement, and pats your head in adoration. “I know that you’re excited, sweetie. But don’t you wanna try looking at other designs before deciding?” Humming, you scroll a bit more as Jaehyun reads a novel. But you don’t find anything that captures your attention a lot. Sure the sweet quotes, couple tattoos and nature-related  designs are great ideas for a tattoo but you were set on the one with the rose.

Jaehyun coos when you tell him that, squishing your cheeks and telling you that the two of you could go to a shop tomorrow and get design inked onto your collarbone forever. 

It’s 9:28 am when you wake up from your slumber and turn to give Jaehyun who looks like he had also woken up just a few minutes ago a peck on his lips. His dimples are visible as he smiles and greets you. The two of you get up and freshen up before you’re sitting at the dining table to eat blueberry pancakes. 

The clock shows that it’s 10:30 am by the time you two leave the house and head for the tattoo store you had researched last night. It takes 15 minutes to reach said shop and Jaehyun parks the car before looking at you with concern evident on his face. “Y/n, you are sure about this right?” Smiling fondly at his worry, you keep your hand on his cheek “I’m sure Jae. Don’t worry.” One kiss is enough to relax him and you pull away before you get too carried away and end up dirtying his car again. Oops.

You enter the cosy shop hand-in-hand with Jaehyun and see someone sitting at the reception wearing an oversized blue shirt. Definitely not the vibes you had expected to get from a fucking tattoo parlour but oh well. You had expected everyone to be intimidating and were ready to hide behind Jaehyun as soon as you entered. But it seems as if that wasn’t happening because all you had deciphered from the shop called Inkphoric was that it was built in a way not to scare the people who had gathered the courage to even stop foot in it. 

The receptionist, she said her name was Nara, leads you both to a room in a corridor. Your hands are sweaty and thankfully she allows Jaehyun to go inside as well. When you’re seated on the chair comfortably, Jaehyun grabs a stool to sit beside you and you wait for the tattoo artist. The wait isn’t long because a minute later, a man who looks about your age is walking towards you all. His all black get-up matches the tattoos littering his arms and he also seems to have a piercing in his right ear, a silver dangling. 

“Hello, I’m Lucas. I’ll be tattooing…” he introduces himself and looks between the two of you, silently asking which one of you he would be tattooing. Honestly, you would have expected him to at least  know who he would be drawing on but quickly brush the thought off as you greet him, telling him that you would be the one getting the art onto her skin. He smiles cutely and nods, and you look at Jaehyun, his comforting smile relaxing your tense body. 

Nara talks to Lucas for a minute or so and then walks off, shooting you an encouraging smile before closing the door behind her. 

“So what is it that I’ll be tattooing onto you, ma’am?” Lucas speaks and you show him the image of the flower. Jaehyun is holding your left hand in his, the warmth seeping throughout your entire body and you’re grateful for Jae’s beautiful ability of being able to calm you down in only a matter of seconds- no matter how serious the situation would be. 

“Oh, that’s very pretty.” “Thank you.” you smile at him, and he prepares his stuff. You’re pulling down the hem of your shirt slightly and exposing part of your left collarbone, where you want your collarbone. 

Lucas says that he’s tracing the design out first and you wait patiently. 

“Now, don’t be scared. It’s gonna hurt at first, especially at the bone but it will soon go away. You can hold your boyfriend’s hand.” he instructs and gives you an encouraging look as Jaehyun moves to your  right to give Lucas space, his large hand completely enclosing yours. 

“Okay, here goes…” the sound of the gun whirring to life fills the room that has tattoo designs filling the wall. 

“Fuck!” your voice pierces through the air and you jolt from the sudden pain. It felt as if someone was impaling you with a sword- which was partly true- but they were doing it continuously. Jaehyun is shocked from your sudden movement and struggles to catch you in his arms. Lucas quickly tears the gun away from your neck and you whimper out, the pain searing through your entire being and Jaehyun tries shushing you, his attempts all going in vain. 

Shitshitshit. This is torture. It’s only the first touch of the needle against your skin and you’re already this close to crying. How the fuck do people get those huge ass tattoos?! Trying your best to calm down and ignore the pain spreading throughout your entire being, you squeeze Jaehyun’s hand hard enough for it to pain but you don’t really care at this point, the throbbing of your collarbone enough to send you flying. He’s stood up from the stool by now, standing behind you.

“Okay..sorry sorry, you can continue.” you whisper out and clamp your lips shut so as to not let out any more weird noises. You’re sweating by the time Lucas gets the gun closer to you and bite your tongue hard enough to draw blood when the feeling of the needle pressing against your skin fills you up again.

Holy heck, I can’t do this. 

Your face is an accurate representation of agony, your entire body tensing as Lucas tattoos your collarbone with his long hair slightly brushing against your neck. You try leaning your head back and lean against Jaehyun. He’s whispering soft comforting words as countless profanities leave your mouth and you feel sad for Lucas, having to hear the shit you were spewing. 

“It’s alright, baby. Just think about other things, happy things.” your boyfriend pecks your cheek and hugs you lightly, trying not to disturb Lucas.

Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale inh-

“I think I just popped a boner.”

You gasp. Lucas chokes. He moves. You shriek.

“Ah, shit!” the gun’s needle scraped against your skin, it was all so sudden. The pain suddenly shoots throughout your entire body, tears filling your eyes. Nononono. 

“Jesus! It’s paining too much!” you’re sobbing by now, Lucas is frantic and Jaehyun..well..he is burning. He’s too busy regretting all his choices to even notice what’s happening around him. Jaehyun bends down to fix his problem and emerges 5 minutes later, when you’re still twisting in torment. Everything is red, your lip being abused by your teeth in order to calm down.

“Y/n! Ma’am! I’m so sorry! Shit, no!” Lucas apologises and sprints over to get a cloth to wipe something you feel trickling down your chest now. Blood. You’re bleeding. 

Writhing in agony in your seat, you clench your hands as if that would somehow reduce the sting, and pant, trying to relax. Your eyes are widened at an attempt of keeping it all in but the throbbing just doesn’t seem to dissipate.

Oh God…

Lucas is now carefully dabbing at the source of blood with panic written clearly all on his face. You look at Jaehyun through the ache to see that he is now coming back to reality and upon seeing your state, a gasp tears his throat and he’s looking at you with his eyes widened. 

The distress prevents you from speaking properly but you manage to call out, “J-Jaehy..Jaehyun.” Said man is desperately looking between your blood gushing out and your face twisted in discomfort. He figures it out and as soon as he does, takes your whimpering form into his, murmuring endless apologies and if you could, you would stop him from saying that but the sting is still there, only lessening a tad bit.

It’s hell, trying to clean the blood away and getting it sorted out. You cried a bit during the process as well but you were perfectly entitled to do that, the gun had pierced your skin quite deep when Lucas had jolted upon hearing what Jae suddenly said. 

30 minutes later, you’re hiccupping slightly and trying to breathe normally after the mad incident. Surprisingly, no one had come in during that time and you were thankful for that, not having wanted anybody to see the mess that had been caused because of Jaehyun’s unexpected confession. Speaking of which, you wince and turn around to look at him and when his eyes meet yours, ask him what he meant “What was that about you popping a boner?” the incredulity just hit you now and you wait for his response impatiently.

“Nothing babe...just forget it. I’m so sorry for saying it so randomly, though. I should’ve thought before speaking. I’m so careless.” the look on his face melts  and you are about to pull him into your chest when you realise that you can’t.

The pain has subsided by now, it’s bearable and you turn to look at Lucas who- when he catches your gaze- immediately walks over to you and starts speaking. “Ma’am, I’m so sorry! That was so sudden and I messed up your tattoo. It’s all my fault, please forgive me if possible.” he looks scared, and you understand why. He probably thinks you’ll sue him or something but you weren’t planning on doing anything of the sort. “It’s alright Lucas. I’m also not gonna tell anyone. We’ll just tell everyone that as soon as the gun touched me, I chickened out and told you to stop.” you keep your hand on his head that’s bowed and he looks up. There are tears brimming his eyes and you don’t know if it’s out of fear or the fact that he genuinely feels terrible for what he did. It really wasn’t his fault anywhere though. You didn’t understand why he was so stressed. 

“I’m sorry Lucas, I just said something stupid without even thinking before. You don’t need to take nay of the blame.” Jaehyun’s voice fills the room and Lucas’ features relax a little before he smiles forcefully. “Well, if your cuts get better, then maybe I can continue the design?” he jokes and you laugh along, knowing all too well that you wouldn’t be coming here again. Your first tattoo and this had happened.

“So do you wanna tell me about that boner-popping now? Lucas isn’t even here.” you’re sitting at the dining table, having just finished your dinner with empty bowls of pasta in front of each of you. Jaehyun shifts slightly in his seat and you wonder if you made him uncomfortable, although you don’t understand why- the reason couldn’t have been that  bad. As soon as you start to backtrack, Jaehyun’s voice is heard.

“Well..just..you know when you were getting the tattoo?” you nod slightly “Lucas was just, his black clothes..and he was bending over and I don’t know. You were whimpering..” “So the scene was too hot and you popped a boner?” you complete his sentence and he meekly nods before you’re howling with laughter, almost falling iff the chair and forgetting about the pain around your collarbone. The bisexual in Jaehyun was showing and he was afraid to admit it, you don’t now why. He had told you about this when you started dating, and you were totally fine with  it, because you knew that he wouldn’t cheat on you. 

“Hey..” your boyfriend half-heartedly attempts to stop you but you’re too far gone to realise that he may be feeling bad. When your laughing fit is over, though, you look at him for any trace of sadness but are relieved to see that he’s only blushing lightly, his dimples showing when he smiles. 

“So, do you wanna get a  tattoo now?” the answer is obvious, given the fact that today did not go as planned. You’re surprised when he answers.

“I don’t think so. My body is a shrine and a tattoo will take away its chastity.”

“Shrine indeed.”

Ty for reading! Yes lmao ik the ending is weird asf, as is the entire story, but nvm

Feedback is always appreciated!

this was supposed to be a drabble for jae’s birthday 😭excuse the typos they’re terrible and i’m literally the most impatient living being you’ll ever encounter

also, the shop name lmao i just got it from google- not creative i know

Tagging: @neoculturedtrash , @jeongjeffrey , @orange-lemon-cross , @nanasimp , @bluejaem​

[kuinliekkienroihu]

I (crysuzumushi, haha) am working on answering your ask game prompts, you picked two of my very favorites, thank you! I'm gonna ask you to do Kaname too! And Byakuya.

Okay, thanks for the ask!! Sorry it took so long to answer, i wrote a novel. Also sorry for all the spelling and grammar mistakes, English isn’t my first language

Kaname:

1. Favorite thing about them

How he always seeks to act according to his sense of justice. Also he's one of the best written characters in the entire series. He's very complex, which makes him feel kinda like an actual person with understandable actions caused by his past. There are a lot more things, but i'm not good at putting things to words so yeah.

2. Least favorite thing about them

How underutilized he was as a character. I'm really glad there's more of him in cfyow, even though i've only read the first part

3. Favorite line

" I follow the path least soaked in blood. The path I walk is justice."

4. BrOTP

I have many, mostly Shuhei, Aizen, Gin and Sajin

5. OTP

-

6. NOTP

hmm, i don't like him and Aizen romantically at all, same goes for Sajin

7. Random headcanon

He has a plant garden in Las Noches in which he grows, among many other things, the ingredients for Aizen's tea, which is Kaname's secret special mix of herbs. Aizen really misses the tea Kaname made for him.

8. Unpopular opinion

He did nothing wrong, or rather, all he did was (more or less) justified

9. Song i associate with them

-

10. Favorite picture of them

This is my favorite too

Byakuya:

1. Favorite thing about them

Yes. I love every single thing about him. Even the things others would consider as flaws are perfect. I really like how calm and collected he is regardless of the situation, he's intelligent and calculating.

A very well written character with, in my opinion, the best character development. Especially his relationship with Rukia from ignoring her out of pain (since she looks almost identical to Hisana), protecting her to keep a promise, letting her be executed to keep another promise to genuinely caring about her and saving her life in many occasions, clearly regretting what he did to her and trying to compensate for his actions.

Kubo wrote his development extremely well, in the end of the series he's objectively a better person than in the beginning, but his personality didn't change much. He's still the same overly serious, stuck up asshole we know and I love him for it.

Another thing I love the most about him is the fact that he's another walking contradiction. But somehow, these contradictions make a paradox or a perfect harmony without cancelling each other. Kubo did an amazing job making him have many layers in his character. There's this line from a book (had to look it up, the book is called "the chrysanthemum and the sword") that the author used to describe Japanese people, I think I read that in someone's ig story and it got stuck in my head since it reminded me of Byakuya so much, and in my honest opinion, describes him rather thoroughly, especially second, third and fourth ones. His zanpakuto, which is one of the infinite reasons I love him, being fully portrayed by the second one "both militaristic and aesthetic" being combined into the beautiful but deadly weapon Senbonzakura is.

"both aggressive and unaggressive, both militaristic and aesthetic, both insolent and polite, rigid and adaptable, submissive and resentful of being pushed around, loyal and treacherous, brave and timid, conservative and hospitable to new ways"

When you think about it, he has the most fitting zanpakuto for his personality compared to the other shinigami and the way he uses it is one of the tiny details which make him, him.

His spot as a captain and the head of the Kuchiki clan is in my opinion fully earned (rest of the nobles (except Yoruichi) can go fuck themselves) (sorry Tara, ignore this please lol). He is hardworking and precise, almost workaholic, has trained hard from a very young age and puts duty above everything. But he still has a hidden "work mode: off" -side which we see occasionally as cracking a dry joke or the wakame taishi fuckery in general. Latter being, in my honest thoughts, hilarious and adorable.

There is a lot more but i literally can't list everything. This is already a hell of an essay.

2. Least favorite thing about them.

My answer is probably as you can expect: none.

There is one thing i don't really like, but it's about the writing.

!!TYBW SPOILERS!!

In the beginning of the arc i think that immediately releasing bankai, especially when he knew it was gonna be sealed, was out of character and i would have been very upset if he stayed dead, since the action which resulted in that was not something he would do.

3. Favorite line

“If it’s for the sake of my pride there’s nothing I won’t destroy.”

I know it’s from a filler but this line just sums his whole character, personality and motivations up so well.

4. BrOTP

I have so many, i want him to have friends lol. But to point out the most significant ones i'd say Rukia, Renji, Kenpachi, Toshiro and Ichigo

5. OTP

The only one i really ship him with is Nanao. Hisana is kind of “it’s canon and i’m fine with it.” I haven’t seen enough of her to form an opinion about the ship, but it’s obvious how much Bya loved her and it’s so sweet.

6. NOTP

Okay, i have never mentioned this before since i know many of my followers/mutuals ship them. Renji. The only ship I. Can't. Stand.

Like, platonically? Yes, they're bros. But romantically or especially sexually? No. Fuck no.

I don't care if you ship them, good for you, but please tag the stuff so it gets filtered.

7. Random headcanon

He sleeptalks a lot. And it's not mumbling, he talks the same way as when he's awake but it's absolute nonsense.

Byakuya, asleep: Do not eat the drawer.

Hisana, awake: *watches him in utter confusion*

Byakuya, still asleep: Give him a pink tricycle.

Hisana: To whom?

Byakuya: Head captain Yamamoto

Hisana: *trying not to laugh*

Another hc that i have is that he is a closet metalhead and likes especially power- and symphonic metal (this might sound very weird if you know nothing about this kind of music lol)

8. Unpopular opinion

His actions in the soul society arc were understandable. He was put between the bark and the tree (i hope you get what i mean) and had to choose from just letting things happen and going against central 46 and all of soul society (or at least that’s what he thought). Also the line he said to Ukitake, which is still easily in top5 most asshole things he has said/done, in my opinion shows what he thought of Rukia’s execution and why he didn’t do anything to prevent it. “Once you’ve let one of your people die.. ...two or three more make no difference.” Both of his parents are dead, Hisana is dead, Ginrei is most likely dead and he thought for 100 years that Yoruichi was dead too. I think Byakuya thought losing one more person he cares about couldn’t hurt more than it already has and therefore didn’t think it was worth breaking the promise he made in his parents’ grave and trying to save her. And that fucking breaks my heart.

9. Song I associate with them

I have a 6h long playlist which I’m not gonna post. Can’t choose just one lol.

10. Favorite picture of them

*digs through nearly infinite pinterest board, tumblr and phone’s gallery*

This is (one of) my favorite manga panel(s) of him. I love how calm but powerful he looks. The lines representing the heavy spiritual pressure. Like an inescapable doom approaching (which indeed was the case). And for some reason i love it. 

My favorite fanart, which i obviously can’t post since you can’t post others art so here’s the link: https://www.deviantart.com/keelerleah/art/Bleach-Byakuya-Looking-Back-127254804

and then one which I think is official art or at least an edit of it, if I’m wrong please lmk

[pochacchoe]

may i have this dance? - a frankie morales x f! reader one-shot

rating/warnings: smut/18+ - unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), friends to lovers, reader is a bit of an introvert, Frankie is soft, a little bit of angst cause it’s not written by me if it doesn’t have yearning, there’s a decent amount of plot to it, SLOW DANCING with francisco on the beach, bit of praise kink. think that’s everything?

word count: 5.4k

summary: One of Santi’s childhood friends, you end up attending his Hawaii wedding stag and it’s about as fun as it sounds. You’ve always had a thing for his best man, and you learn that he actually feels the same.

It finally happened. Santiago Garcia found a woman he wanted to settle down with. The man was head over heels for her, and everyone knew it. It was painfully clear whenever he talked about giving her the house in the suburbs, the sport utility vehicle and two and a half children. But before any of that he was going to give her the destination wedding.

So you find yourself in the suffocating humidity of Hawaii, where Santi’s darling fiancée has always wanted to get married. She has the robust Pinterest board to prove it. You swirl the vodka soda around in your glass as the condensation trickles down the sides of the cup, trying not to think about how much debt you’ve accrued for this wedding and you aren’t even in it. Santiago had made the case to include you in the wedding party, but it would’ve thrown off the numbers, so that was quickly vetoed. Not that you were bitter or anything.

But you wouldn’t miss Santi’s wedding for the world. He’s one of your oldest friends. And their love absolutely deserves to be celebrated, but that didn’t mean that you were going to enjoy the vast majority of the weekend which serves as a blaring reminder of how woefully single you are.

As you hold the glass in front of you inspecting it out of boredom, you finally hear Santiago’s voice call your name from the entrance to the hotel bar. Your eyes snap to attention and you sit up straight on the barstool, offering him a shy wave. He’d invited you for a post-rehearsal dinner drink and he was late, of course. You didn’t mind too much. The bartender at least made an effort to chat as you waited, recommending local activities safe to do alone so you can make the most of your time here.

Santi’s face lights up with a smile as he approaches, though he’s clearly already basking in the wedding glow. He looks happy, and you can’t help but feel happy for him, too. You haven’t seen him since before you left for Hawaii, what with his busy schedule. Now that you think of it, you haven’t seen him very much at all this year, both busy with your jobs and the rest of his free time devoted to planning a wedding.

“Santi!” You exclaim, hopping off the barstool to give him a hug. He kisses your cheek before engulfing you in his arms. You savor in the scent of him as it wafts to your nose, a calming sensation overtaking you now that you’re in his presence. You knew this weekend would be lonely; it came with the territory of attending a destination wedding stag. But you hadn’t expected it to be this lonely.

“How was your flight, cariño?” He asks, sinking down into the barstool adjacent from you as you take back your rightful spot in the corner seat.

“A few hours longer than I would’ve liked, but all good,” You answer, finishing off your drink and flagging down the bartender. The jetlag has definitely caught up with you, but you’re so excited to finally see your friend you don’t care.

“I’m sorry Tía couldn’t make it,” He says, speaking of your mom. She’d earned the honorary title from Santiago growing up, when she always had popsicles at the ready after long days playing outside in the summer and pizza rolls fresh out of the oven when you two bounded home from the school bus.

“She really wanted to, but she just couldn’t make it work,” You remind him, though he knows. He nods, watching intently as the bartender places your drinks in front of you both. His fingers wrap around the glass, but he doesn’t take a sip.

“A lot of people couldn’t make it, which I understand,” He says softly. You wonder if he had any input on the wedding, but chew on the inside of your cheek instead of voicing it. His sadness quickly fades into bliss again and he takes a swig of his whiskey. “I really appreciate you coming. Isn’t it beautiful?”

You nod enthusiastically. “It’s gorgeous. I’ll have to come back here one day.”

“You’re here now,” He shrugs. “Why not enjoy it? You have a Hinge account? Bumble? Tinder?”

You let out a chuckle. “I’d rather not, but thank you.”

This is how it always went between you and Santiago since you’d reached the appropriate age for dating. He’d try and get you out of your comfort zone, and you’d brush him off. You appreciated the effort, you really did, but you couldn’t just meet a random stranger off an app. You wanted the connection to grow slowly over time, with someone who felt comfortable to you. It just hadn’t happened for you yet.

“Well,” He trails. “There’s always Frankie.”

Your stomach drops when he says the name and you try your best to stop your eyes from widening. Did it get hotter in the bar? You shift in your seat, gripping the glass in front of you tightly.

“What do you mean, there’s Frankie?” You say a little too defensively.

He narrows his eyes at you, as if your reaction didn’t give you away enough. “He’s still single and still a hopeless romantic, just like you.”

You’d had a crush on Francisco Morales since that perfect summer night back in college when you first met. You’d spent all day with Santi and his army buddies at the lake laughing, swimming and generally getting up to no good. You knew immediately when you saw him that you liked him, his soft spoken demeanor drawing you in and coaxing out a more outgoing part of you just to see him smile at your expense. When the sun went down, you made sure to sit next to him by the fire and the conversation flowed easily. It was every bit of the cliché - you were like puzzle pieces that fit together, and you didn’t have to try.

Nothing more happened between you two over the years. In your mind, Frankie was Santi’s friend you got to see sometimes, and you’d never worked up the courage to ask him to hang out alone. You assumed when he didn’t take initiative with you that he wasn’t interested, despite the fact that you always found each other at group get-togethers and practically velcroed on to each other.

You knew you’d see him this weekend, but you figured that he’d be too busy for anything more than a quick greeting, a side hug in passing. You’d also prepared yourself to see him here with a date, something you knew was bound to happen one of these days.

“You both need to get laid.” Santi breaks you out of your trance. Your palms grow sweaty just thinking about how Frankie is in this same hotel right now.

“Santiago,” You chide. “Frankie doesn’t like me in that way. He’s made that clear.”

“Has he though?” He shoots back. “How do you know for sure?”

You’ve never talked about Frankie with Santiago, and it’s strange to do it now. You always tried to avoid making it awkward, not wanting to be that girl that hopelessly pines over the boy and ruins the group vibes.

“Alright,” You roll your eyes. “Has Reina given you a curfew tonight? A drink limit?”

Santi laughs and drops his head in acknowledgment of his sometimes overbearing future wife. “She was busy with her girlfriends and their spa treatments. All she said was something disturbing about my cojones if I’m not at the altar tomorrow.”

You grin at the sentiment, knowing she’s fully capable of delivering on the promise.

“Are you nervous?” You ask curiously. You always knew that Santi would get married one day, but now that it’s here you’re overflowing with pride for your friend. He’s been through a lot, but he’s a good man who deserves this happiness.

He gives you a look, like he can’t believe you would even suggest it. Santi? Nervous? Never.

You raise your eyebrows. “Your vows are ready?”

He rotates his glass between his fingers and nods. “Yep, all that’s left to do is get married.”

You take in the sight of him, marveling at how lucky you are to have him as a friend. “I’m so proud of you, Santi.”

He smiles wistfully, looking down at the bar counter. “Thank you, querida. You know, you should talk to Frankie. Maybe ask him to dance. I don’t want to see you wallowing. Can you do that for me?”

You sigh, the nerves bubbling back up in your stomach. You thought you’d moved on from this subject. “Can I think about it?”

“Nope, no thinking about it. You always get yourself into trouble when you think.”

You let out a laugh. Such a Santi thing to say. Feeling a bit brave with liquid courage, you raise your glass to him and he returns the gesture, clinking against yours.

“To not thinking.”

---

The ceremony is beautiful, just like you knew it would be. As the sun sets, Santi and Reina exchange vows on the beach framed by a white archway outfitted with pink and white flowers. The bride is a vision in white, of course, surrounded by her friends in tan, flowy dresses. The men wear matching tan suits complete with vests and while they’re surely sweating through it, you can only imagine they’ve been told to wait until the reception to take off their jackets.

While you should be paying attention to what the couple is reciting to each other, your eyes are trained on the man standing at Santiago’s side. Watching Frankie walk down the aisle nearly took your breath away, so handsome and sunkissed. His soft brown eyes and gentle smile are on full display, not hidden behind his usual baseball cap, and his shaggy hair is flowing in the lazy island breeze.

He didn’t see you when he walked past, but you’ve been watching his eyes roam the crowd throughout the service and you’re hopeful that he’s looking for someone; hopeful that that someone is you. You’re pretty sure you can feel your heart hurting in your chest, heavy with the weight of your longing for him. It’s much easier to forget about when he’s not in front of you.

You float from the ceremony to the cocktail hour, eager for a drink to calm your nerves. All you can think about is Santiago telling you to do the exact opposite, forming a vicious cycle in your brain. You’re extremely conscious of the fact that you know very few people at this wedding, surrounded by strange faces ignoring your existence. Santi’s immediate family is busy hosting, and your only other friends are waiting to be introduced as the bridal party, so you hole up in a corner just like he didn’t want for you.

You go through the motions - the introductions, the dinner, the speeches - making forced small talk with the attendees at your table and beginning to wonder why you even came to this wedding. Santi would’ve been heartbroken, but then at least you would’ve been spared the embarrassing otherness you feel right now. You know it’s just a heat of the moment feeling, so you suck it up and mentally thank Santi for having the sense to provide an open bar.

“Excuse me miss,” A voice breaks you out of your trance when a hand gently rests on your shoulder. You look up and meet the eyes of Santiago’s father beaming down at you. “Would you do me the honor of a dance?”

You grin, popping up from your seat as you take his hand and follow him to the dance floor. You’re very fond of Mr. Garcia. Growing up, he was always your biggest cheerleader, insistent that you were capable of achieving anything you set your mind to. You didn’t forget that, grateful to have had him as an influence.

“You look beautiful, mija,” He says, his hand on your wingbone as you sway to the music. “I’m so glad you could be here for Santi.”

“Thank you, Mr. Garcia,” You reply, offering him a smile. “I can’t believe he finally did it.”

He laughs and nods. “You’re telling me!”

You continue to dance, catching up with the senior Garcia while allowing your eyes to wander the floor. You spot Santi still dancing with his mother, and Reina is with her brother. You continue searching for familiar faces, finding a few before Mr. Garcia pipes up again.

“You should be next, right? You have someone special?” He inquires.

You look away bashfully. “No, nothing promising at the moment.”

He squeezes your hand in his reassuringly. “Love is always right around the corner. Maybe even right in front of you. You just have to be open to it, mija.”

Your heart drops as you spot Frankie, dancing with one of the bridesmaids. She stands on her tiptoes to whisper something in his ear and his eyes crinkle as he laughs. You take a deep breath, the weight you’ve been feeling growing heavier.

“I hope so.” It’s all you can say before Santiago’s mother cuts in, and you happily oblige. You stand on the dance floor alone for a moment, deciding whether you have the courage to ask Frankie to dance. But he looks perfectly content as he is, dancing with a girl who isn’t you, so you retreat to the safety of the bar.

The wedding eventually dies down, and you find yourself sat on the beachfront nursing your drink. You’ve been watching the waves roll in, listening to the sound combined with the music from the dance floor carrying in the wind. You don’t want to go back just yet, but you know you’ll need to soon.

“Oh fuck,” You hear the voice mumbling before you see anything. You look over to your right and witness the legs tripping over the drop from concrete to sand where the edge of the resort property meets the beach. As your eyes travel up, you connect with the warm brown eyes of one Frankie Morales and try to stifle your giggle.

“Hey!” He says excitedly. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“You found me,” You say softly, and your stomach does a flip from his statement. You watch as he plants himself in the sand next to you. He’s since taken off the suit jacket and vest, just in a white button-up with the sleeves rolled up and the tan dress pants. He’s barefoot, too, and he looks positively blissful and relaxed.

“You were there on the dance floor and then you disappeared,” He continues. “Like, whoosh.”

You giggle again at his sound effect and the smile on his face is big as he looks at you with his full attention. He’s so close, you could easily reach out and place your palm against his cheek, run your thumb along his patchy stubble. You want to explain that you were working up the courage to ask him to dance like Santi told you to, but bailed at the last minute, yet the words don’t make the connection from your brain to your voice.

“Frankie, I think you’re drunk,” You say pointedly. He leans back on his arms, digging his hands into the sand behind him.

“On the ocean breeze, maybe. I stopped drinking a couple hours ago. Had to make sure the happy couple made it back to their room okay,” He informs you. You watch his side profile intently while he’s surveying the beach.

“And did they?”

He grins at you and wiggles his eyebrows. “Let’s just say the mission was successful.”

“Oh Frankie, I’ve missed you,” Your words are honest, but the teasing tone to it leaves room for him to interpret in whichever way fits his narrative.

“It’s been what, since the Fourth?” He asks, and you nod. “Too long,” He adds.

A silence settles over you two and the crashing waves become louder in the absence of your voices. You trace your index finger in the sand next to you, focused on the tiny grains moving under the pressure.

“Sucks you couldn’t be in it,” He points out gently. “Would’ve been a lot more fun.”

You can’t find any words to say, instead scraping your top teeth on your bottom lip as you look out at the water. “You know how it is. I’d be here for Santi no matter what.”

“Can I…” Frankie’s voice trails off before he finds his confidence to continue. “Can I ask you something?”

Your heartbeat picks up as all the possibilities run through your mind. “Shoot.”

“Did you guys have a thing?”

You almost choke on your own saliva in shock. “No, Frankie.”

“I just thought-” He starts quickly, defending himself. “Reina’s never liked you very much and she didn’t let you in the wedding. Plus all day you’ve looked like your spit’s gone sour.”

“I promise you, Santiago is like a brother to me.”

He sits up straighter, taking his hands out of the sand and brushing them off on his thighs before folding them in his lap meekly.  “I should’ve known better.”

You look back out on the horizon line, happy to have the waves as a focal point. You try to process what Frankie just asked you, but you’re not even sure where to start. Did he think there was truth to that all this time?

“To be honest, I’m not a huge fan of weddings. It’s stupid, and I shouldn’t be sulking about it,” You ramble, trying your best to explain what you know must’ve come off as “resting bitch face” all evening.

“Not at all,” He replies, his tone amplifying his concern. “I get it.”

You already know you have it bad, but with just a few words you’re melting into a puddle of emotion over him. He scratches at the patch of hair on his jawline before making eye contact with you.

“I wish you hadn’t disappeared so quickly. I wanted to ask you to dance,” He says, his voice low.

You think your heart might have stopped. You raise your eyebrows, your facial expression one of incredulity. “Are you sure you’re not drunk?”

“I’m serious!” He responds, his lips curling into a soft smile. He gets up and offers his hand to you as he voices your name. “May I have this dance?”

You’re frozen as you continue to stare at him in bewilderment. You search your surroundings, waiting for Will or Benny to appear with their phone out and cash at the ready since this must have been a bet.

“There’s no music,” You sputter, struggling to find an excuse to save yourself the embarrassment. He looks around as he notices that you’re right, the wedding teardown has begun and the melodies that once carried through the wind are now silent. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and before you know it, “Sunday Kind of Love” by Etta James is playing while he sets it down on the cement divider you’ve been using as a backrest. He extends his hand out to you once more, his gaze hopeful.

He is serious, you realize. It’s a shock when you place your hand in his, and he helps you up from the sand. His arm quickly wraps around you, pulling you in close as his hand settles on the small of your back. His scent is intoxicating, just like you remember. Your skin feels warm under his touch, tingling with excitement to finally know what it’s like to be in Frankie’s arms. Your fingers are laced in his and you’re not sure if it’s your pulse or his you feel in his tight grip.

You sway to the beat of the song, acutely aware of your body pressed against his. You wonder if he can feel your heartbeat racing in your chest. When you look into his eyes, the softness of his relaxes you a bit and you find that you don’t want to look away. You maintain his eye contact, unable to suppress the smile that progresses into a tiny laugh.

“I like your laugh,” He says and you continue to stare at him, trying to make sure he’s real. That this is all real. The song, the smell of the ocean, the light breeze winding through and Frankie. It’s almost too perfect.

“I’ve never done this before,” You mumble softly.

“Done what?” He murmurs back, an amused tone to his voice. He’s tracing his thumb over your index finger in his hand and you think you might be short circuiting. You scrape your teeth across your lip as you gather the courage to say it, just say it.

“Danced with someone I really care about,” You answer. At this admission, he squeezes you tighter against him and leans in closer, resting his forehead against yours as he looks into your eyes, searching. He finds exactly what he’s looking for - your honesty - and suddenly he’s even closer than before. Your eyes flutter closed, and when he doesn’t move you nudge your nose against his, telling him it’s okay. That you want this. You can feel his breath on your lips until he slowly captures your lips in his, taking his time to taste you.

He breaks away and when you open your eyes you’re met by his smirk, his forehead still resting against yours. You readjust your grip on him, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands come to rest on your hips, holding you tightly.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” He murmurs, his thumbs rubbing lazily into your hips. You mirror the movement at the nape of his neck, catching the soft tendrils of hair and running your fingers through.

“Me too. Why’d you wait so long?” You bite your lip and smile at him, and he chuckles softly in response.

“Because I'm an idiot.”

You let out a laugh and he does, too. You stop swaying together when you realize the song has long ended. You drop your hands from his neck and Frankie slowly brings his hand to your cheek, holding your face in his palm. You can only stare into his eyes, wishing for this moment to last forever.

“Would you like to come back to my room?” He asks. You nod and a fire ignites in his eyes. You feel a similar heat in your belly as his hand leaves your cheek to entwine with your fingers instead. You begin to follow him through the path to the resort when he stops abruptly.

“Minor setback. I forgot where I left my shoes,” He says, searching through the mess of folded up chairs and tables. You start giggling and he laughs too, squeezing your hand in his. You squint as you try to help, but he spots them first on the edge of the empty dance floor. He jogs to get them and quickly puts them back on before grabbing onto your hand again and gently pulling you in the direction of the hotel in his eagerness.

The air conditioning of the hotel immediately hits you as you walk through the automatic doors and you hadn’t realized just how warm your body temperature was. The elevator can’t come fast enough as you wait in the lobby. You try to focus on the soft ukulele cover of a pop song playing from the speakers as Frankie wraps his arm around your waist, his fingers roaming your body anxiously.

“I can’t wait to fuck you,” He hums in your ear, his hand traveling to your ass and giving a squeeze.

Finally you make it into the elevator and with no one around, he pushes your body against the wall and latches onto your lips with more urgency than when you were on the beach. You let out a soft moan in response which only excites Frankie more.

“What floor?” You ask breathlessly, noting that the elevator hasn’t moved.

He nuzzles into your neck, mumbling the number as you reach to press the button. The vibration of his voice against your skin sends you reeling and you reach to cradle his head, running your fingers through his hair. He breathes in your scent, nibbling and sucking gently on your soft skin.

The elevator dings to alert your arrival, and he’s quick to grab your hand and lead the way to his room. The anticipation ignites a fire in your core, and his excitement to take you to bed elicits a response deep within you. He has the keycard out and ready once you reach the door and before you know it you’re pinned against the wall again, his hands exploring your body.

“Clothes. Off. Now.” He mumbles between kisses and your fingers reach for the buttons of his dress shirt, making quick work of it until he shrugs it off. You run your hands down his chest, settling on his belt. It jingles as you undo it for him, unbuttoning his pants and pushing them down to the floor.

“Let’s get you out of this dress,” He coos and you turn around. His fingers trace along your neck and you shiver at his touch, goosebumps rising on your skin. He settles on the zipper, pulling down until the dress pools at your feet. You step out of your heels and turn to face him again, watching as his eyes run up and down your body hungrily.

“God damn,” He mutters, stroking at the hair on his chin as he takes in the sight of you. “You’re beautiful.”

Suddenly everything slows down as you both realize that this moment is years in the making. Every look that lasted a little too long, every stomach flutter from a compliment, every moment of laughter or teasing all leads to this. You step forward, pushing him back onto the bed and he grins wildly as you straddle his hips while you unhook your bra for him, throwing it on the floor behind you. Desperate for any friction, you grind slowly against him and he lets out a soft groan.

He runs his thick hands up the center of your abdomen, settling on your breasts and cupping you in his grip before rolling your nipples between his fingers.

“Frankie,” You manage to say as you continue to grind against him, the pain and pleasure as he teases your breasts hitching your breath in your throat.

“Tell me what you need, baby,” He says. “I’ll give it to you.”

“I need you.” It’s the truth. All you want is Frankie. Whether it’s his mouth, his fingers, his cock, you don’t really care but you’re overwhelmed with your need for him.

“Mi amor,” He replies, holding onto your hips as he urges you to flip over, laying you down on the bed gently. He begins to familiarize himself with your body, his hands and mouth roaming every inch of you. Eagerly he learns which touch gets a rise out of you, making up for all the times he had to imagine this exact scenario.

He shifts his body weight, lowering himself on top of you and capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. Despite your intensifying wetness and tingling heat between your legs, you could settle for kissing him all night if that’s what he really wanted. It’s more than you ever thought you’d get to do with Frankie, and you’re happy to soak him in this way. His tongue tangles with yours as he rolls your breast in his capable hand before trailing lower. He settles just before the waistband of your underwear, resting his hand on your stomach and the weight of it is enough for you to release a moan into his mouth.

He reluctantly breaks away from your lips, pressing chaste kisses down your torso until he reaches your underwear, sliding the fabric down your legs and tossing it aside. He continues to press kisses lower until he reaches your folds and he pauses.

“Are you comfortable, sweetheart?” He asks. You nod, readjusting yourself against the pillows on impulse. He grins, his eyes darkening as he places another kiss at the apex of your thighs. He spreads you open with his fingers, testing how ready you are for him. You try not to squirm at his touch while he leisurely teases you with light touches. He notices, reaching out and taking your hand in his as he finally licks a long and slow stripe the length of your sex. His nose brushes against your clit and the breath hitches in your throat, the excitement jolting your body. He squeezes your hand tighter as he continues to lick and suck. When his tongue finally slides inside you, your eyes roll back in ecstasy.

“Frankie,” you cry out. He hums against you, tracing circles around your clit as he slides his fingers inside you. He can tell you’re almost there, and he adds another as he pumps in and out with increasing speed. You buck against his mouth, needing just a little more pressure to get you there. He takes your direction, working you harder and faster until your toes are curling and your body is shuddering against him. Softly he laps you up, releasing his grip on your hand to run his fingers down your hip and thigh. He can’t get enough of how fantastic your skin feels underneath his grip.

“You okay?” He checks in again and when you nod, he slides his boxers down his hips. Your eyes are drawn to his throbbing cock, veins pulsing and ready for you. You’re tingling again with excitement for him as you reach your arm out, beckoning him closer. He nestles his knees on either side of your hips while he hovers over you.

“I want you inside me,” You tell him, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Anything you want, baby,” He says, dragging his cock through your wetness, teasing your entrance. He lines himself up, gently pushing inside of you. He takes his sweet time, letting your pussy stretch to every inch of him. You let out a sigh as he fills you and he runs his fingers along your jaw, tilting your head so you make eye contact with him.

“Still okay?” He asks.

You give him a dazed smile, placing your palm against his cheek and running your hand along his facial hair. You flash back to just over an hour ago when you envisioned that very same action much more innocently. “I’m great, Frankie.”

He leans down to kiss you as he begins to thrust in and out of you, each time going just a little deeper until you’re filled completely by him. He grunts quietly as he ruts into you, taking a moment to close his eyes in bliss before he connects with your eyes again.

“Your pussy is like heaven, mi amor,” He murmurs. “I can’t believe I wasted so much time.”

“I know baby.” You push the hair away from his forehead, growing sticky with sweat. He kisses you again, his hips bucking harder into you.

“I’m going to treat you like the princess you are,” He says, taking both of your hands in his. “Every fucking day.”

You moan as his thrusts hit you just right, your orgasm rising within your body. “Frankie, I’m so close.”

He lowers more of his body weight against you, his mouth resting beside your ear and the hot air of his breathing, knowing he’s just as close to finishing coaxes it out of you. You don’t hold back your moan, your fingers scratching down his back as he follows suit. A few more ragged thrusts do him in and he’s dead weight on top of you, breathing heavy and slick with sweat.

He sighs happily into your neck and you tangle your fingers into his hair, letting a soft chuckle out at how cute his little sighs and moans are. He lifts his head up lazily, pulling out of you and rolling onto his side. “What?” He asks, a grin pulling at the corner of his lips.

“You’re adorable, that’s all,” You tell him. He rests his head on your shoulder, draping his arms and legs around you. You know you should get up, but you lay there just a while longer consumed by how content you feel.

“So…” You trail. “You think we can leave the bed tomorrow to do some fun Hawaii things before we leave?”

He hums against your shoulder, placing a gentle kiss on your skin. “I think that can be arranged, princesa.”

tags: @seasonschange-butpeopledont​ @cryptkeepersoul​ @thisisthe-way​ @dirty-dancefl00r5​ @fallingoutofthe1975​ @rae-gar-targaryen​

[heyheshi]

Episode

2k words

written and uploaded: August 13, 2020

🦋 - fluff

🌙 - angst...?

💎 - mention of smut...?

Please like and reblog! Also please don't post my writings anywhere!

This is supposed to be a blurb but oh well! And please please REBLOG! I want to get my works out there and likes isn't doing anything. And don't be a ghost reader that doesn't even like my post. By next month, I'll be blocking ghost and silent readers (doesn't reblog). Hope you understand!

Masterlist

_________

"Baby pay attention to meee!", Harry plopped down beside you on your shared bed, "what're you doing anyway?", putting his head on your shoulder as he squints his eyes.

You turned your head a bit and pecked his nose, "told ya I was gonna play Episode! Just bought these gems and tickets.", looking back to your phone, you made your choice - Kiss Max.

"That awfully looks like you.", H murmured, still not taking his head off your shoulders.

You've been playing this game since the lockdown started. Weird? Probably. For an adult like you who's dating the Harry Styles, yes. In your defense, it's a fun game. It does get boring on some days and the domestic stuff gets tiring so you play this game to relax a bit.

And no, Harry is not boring, he just happened to have a life and a hobby - unlike you and when he's working out or writing, you're stuck with whatever it is that can occupy you and so you found this game!

"I know! It's so cool cause I really feel like I'm in this game!", you continued to read the lines on your phone screen not paying attention to your boyfriend, "look!"

"Stop making out with that avatar!", Harry playfully said as he lays down to bed.

"I made a premium choice so...", you shrugs, "and isn't he just cute??!", you felt Harry put his hands on your waist and tried to drag you down beside him but you didn't budge.

H answered you in a monotone voice, "Yea sure.", putting both of his hand at the back of his head then closing his eyes.

"C'mon! Don't be rude! I designed him!"

Opening his left eye, "well sorry to break it to you but you can't design a real life boyfriend."

"Thank god I play this game then, ain't it?", you jokingly responded but it seems like your boyfriend is a grumpy baby today, only answering you with 'whatever'.

"Stop that!", hitting your boyfriend's tummy playfully, "I can style you anyways Mister Harry Styles, so I'm good.", you continued, emphasizing his surname.

"I think I'm gonna go grab some snack downstairs.", your boyfriend quickly get out of your bed and walked out of your room leaving you dumbfounded.

'Whatever', your mind subconsciously screamed so you just went back to your game, getting comfortable sitting with your back against the headboard. 

This is not the first time it happened, there are some days when Harry is a complete 180, but hey, everyone has a bad day and he's not an exemption.

Shaking your head as if to clear your head, you went back to your game. You realized that you just started a new chapter yet your boyfriend hasn't made his appearance back.

Making a mental note of checking on him after this chapter, you continued your game until he walked in your room again holding a bag of chips and a bottle of water.

Patting the space beside you, "Whatcha got in there, baby?", already knowing the answer, you asked anyway.

He only raised the food on his hands and made his way beside you. He did not say a word, only stared at the blank wall in front of him as he started eating his chips.

"Can you feed me some?", you tried to coo your boyfriend but he only passed you the bag, still not paying attention to you.

Feeling defeated and annoyed, you rolled your eyes and ignored your boyfriend as you finished the chapter you are playing.

"Kissy!", you made a grabby hands at Harry as you jutted your bottom lips only for you to get ignored, once again. "What's up with you?", you turned off your game and looked at him with pointed eyes.

"Oh so now you paying attention to me. Nice."

"Wha- are you, you know, horny...? Is that it...?", you tried to tickle him but still no nothing.

"Can you let me eat my chips at peace? Why won't you go back to that game of yours."

"What? No. I'm asking you a question Harry.", your patience is wearing off and your boyfriend is clearly the reason. Everything is so peachy.

Finally looking at you, he answered sarcastically, "I was asking for your affection earlier but you didn't pay attention."

"What the hell H!", rubbing your face until something clicked, "oh no! Oh no!", you started laughing while Harry looked at you like you're a lunatic of some sort.

"What now?"

"Oh no! No no no no no!", the pissed off face of your boyfriend did not help but to make you laugh harder to the point where your stomach starts hurting.

"Y/N stop that!", H whined, stuffing his face with chips.

"Wait!", trying to calm down, "I think I know what's up with you...", getting a pillow and hugging it and sitting up straighter, you continued, "are you... jealous?"

Harry mimicked you, sitting up straight, "I am not jealous.", eating more of the chips as he looks at you dead in the eyes.

"Oh baby, you are so jealous!", you continued to tease your boyfriend, poking his body multiple times.

"I'm not."

"Yes you are! I know you!"

H put his chips on his bedside table and cleaned his hand with a rubbing alcohol then facing you again, "no. I'm not even laughing!", looking at your eyes again, trying to make a point.

"If it was other people, maybe you would've fooled them, but not me! I know that look! And that eyes! Just admit it! You're jealous Harry!", the look on your boyfriends face made you stop laughing.

"Fine! What if I am?"

You take a hold of his hands, "baby, you can't seriously be jealous over a fictional character...", you tried to hold on your laughs for the sake of Harry.

"It's not that!", H removed his hands from yours and laid down.

"Then what is it? Tell me, please.", you removed the pillow on your thighs as you maneuver near his head and put it on your thighs instead.

You waited for an answer but received none. 

"Baby it's just an avatar...", running your right hand thru his hair then pecked his nose.

"I know. God, I know! I'm just being stupid, forget it.", he hides his face on your legs but it's too late, you already saw the redness on his face.

"Tell me please, baby."

Harry answered you with inaudible voice so you his head on a place where you can see his face and hear him properly, "come again H?"

"I said I wasn't jealous of that stupid avatar, I-", you looked at him accusingly and he sighed, "okay, fine! Was jealous of the avatar and the game. Just wanted your loving but you weren't paying attention to me and it made me realize that any guy can have your attention. I mean that avatar got you hooked already! And that's only a game... what if it's a real guy? Someone who'll be with you all the time and not someone who's on the other side of the world half of the time?"

"Oh love...", you pulled his body up as a sign for him to sit down and he did, "first of all I'm sorry for ignoring you, it won't happen again, I promise.", you kissed his left cheek twice and continued, "second, there will be no other guy! You understand me, H?", cupping his face with your hands so he'll look at you in the eyes.

"But you're probably bored that's why yo-"

"You, stop that. I would choose you every time, okay? Even with the premium choices in the game! I love you, and only you and there will be no other guy, okay?", you explained to him but his face still looks sad.

"I love you, you know that, right Harry?"

"I do and I'm so honored that you do and I love you too Y/N."

"See! There's nothing else to worry about, yeah?", you can see his smile trying to creep back, "now, kissy? Pleaseee!"

Finally, your boyfriend kissed you, pinning you close to his body and taking you both down to the bed. The kiss is soft, slow and sweet until you decided to break it.

Harry whined, "what now?"

"I can start a new story on Episode and make an avatar look like you! Or you can install it too and get a revenge? Or i don't know make it look like me?", you offered as you sit up again.

"How about you delete it and play with your real boyfriend? Hmmm? Sounds good?"

It sounds like a good deal, great deal. Spectacular actually, "but I just bought those gems and all..."

"Fine, but you're playing it with me. I can't have you kissing other guys even if it's fictional!"

You bopped his nose with your pointer finger, "okay deal! But only if you gave me some of your chips!", you reached across him to his bedside table for the bag only to find it empty.

"Uh oh..."

You straddled your boyfriend, "yes. Uh oh your self, Styles."

"Hmmm, are you trying to seduce me, future Missus Styles?", Harry raised his left eyebrow at you, also sitting up.

"What?"

"What what?", Harry chuckled.

"Yo- you just... you called me..."

"I did.", he said coolly.

You started playing with your fingers out of nervousness, "what do you me-"

"Marry me."

"What?", you alarmingly looked up to him only to see him getting something on his drawer on bedside table.

Pulling up a small square dark blue velvet box, Harry slowly opened it, "I know this isn't the most ideal proposal but I couldn't wait any longer. I had this ring for months now, waiting for the right time to give it to you. I was planning on doing one of those Pinterest worthy proposals like I saw on your board so I'm sorry to disappoint..."

You're crying at this point, "no, no no..."

Harry started closing the box at your answer.

"NO! Stop!", you hold Harry's hand to stop him from closing the box, "what I mean is, this is perfect, I- I don't need those Pinterest like proposal..."

"So are you saying...?"

"Yes! Yes yes! I'll marry you! Oh my God I'm deleting my Episode right now!", you started to remove your body from his but his big hands prevented you from doing so.

"We'll I'm glad that you're deleting it but...", Harry got the ring out of the box and took your left hand, slowly sliding it on your ring finger.

"It's beautiful. Gorgeous.", you looked into each other's eyes that's full of tears, smiling then meeting each other's lips.

You pulled away, out of breath. 

"So you're marrying me now.", Harry concluded.

"Did you just asked me to marry you cause you're jealous?", you poked fun at your now fiancé.

"I'm not answering that.", he took your phone from the bed and unlocked it, "are you sure you want to delete this?"

You nodded, "do the honors baby.", you smiled at him as he did so then kissing him again once the app was removed from your phone.

"I love you."

"I love you more H. I'm gonna pamper you tomorrow, promise. We'll do face masks and everything but for now, I think we need to... celebrate!", you winked at him while slowly pushing him down the bed, which is an easy task since you're still straddling him.

"We definitely do.", with that, Harry flipped the both of you so you're under him and hid yourself under the thick blankets on the bed.

You can guess what happened next. Let's just say that Harry kept you pretty well preoccupied for the next few hours until it was time for dinner.

And after the dinner, he made sure that both of your desserts are well served - if you know what I mean.

Who would have thought that Harry will propose to you at this day when he was just grumpy earlier? But oh, you're not complaining.

_____

[dagcutie]

Pls give me some tips on how you do your moodboards! Do you use pinterest or tumblr and do you print out the images or just make a digital collage?

omg love that!!!! ok

so you can do moodboards/visionboards in lots of different ways possible but in the end the "process" is the same

so what’s the best is like to try to see your moodboard/visionboard as often as possible so you can visualize your goals and it makes them look more 'reachable' if you know what i mean

so i think the best is to print pictures and maybe quotes that inspires you and put them all together on a frame or just pin them on a board if you have and put it in your rooms so you can see it regularly

if it’s not possible you can totally just do it on your phone (like i do) and post it somewhere or just keep it in your camera roll or add it as your wallpaper

so to find the pics i usually go to pinterest and i already make a board on there where i can add regularly new pics, it depends what you want to visualize but like if your goal is a certain uni or moving to a certain city or country try to find pics that match the whole aesthetic of your moodboard, that you know are from this specific place or if you can’t find pics from this city (bc maybe it’s not a very well known city) try to find pics of something that looks like it!! you don’t care if it’s not the exact city if you believe it is it will work lmao it’s just for you. also of course try to choose pics that are more realistic and that matches your goal because if you want to move to paris for example don’t put the pic of a gigantic parisian appartement if you know you will most likely live in a small 10m2 studio.. also you can add pictures of vibes you want to get so for example if you want to be really focus on your studies and spend lots of time at the library, you can add pictures of university libraries and desk full of books and if you want to try to find a friend group with which you go on small walks/hang out a lot with, you can add pics of people chilling together or partying together..

i know it might sound stupid and very superficial but romanticizing your life is nice lol

an unconvenient tho is that you might get your hopes up and end up be super disappointed because in the end your life doesn’t look like your moodboard/visionboard right away but it’s totally normal and okay, first you don’t live in pinterest and second it takes time and work to get everything you want to achieve

anyways it’s really not a supernatural thing or like an mysterious superior force that is going to listen to you and give you everything you want but it’s more like a way to clearly expose and write your goal in life so it can helps you to lead your life to something where you will feel fulfilled, writing down your goals really helps in life and doing it in a cute/craft way imo is even better😌

[dailydaydreamings]

Best in the Worst Way, Part 8

The Reader has been having a love affair with two Avengers and gets caught in a sticky situation. She’s suddenly faced with life decisions she’s not prepared for, including who to love, what she wants, and is this all worth it?

The very first thing you did after opening the package was to throw it into a drawer. Wrapping and all.

It would have been the sweetest gift had it come from Bucky. Coming from Steve, it made you feel a little queasy.

The rest of the morning you stated vaguely at your screen, mulling over your relationships. When Steve finally knocked on your door, you barely managed, “Come in.”

“Hey,” he greeted. You nodded in acknowledgment, folding your hands in front on you on the desk. “Did you get my gift?” He handed you your tea, clearly looking for the frame.

You swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat. “Steve sit,” you motioned at a chair.

Frowning, he did as he was told.

“I did see it, the thing is Steve, it feels a little wrong to put it on my desk,” you admitted.

His reaction was immediate, complete confusion and utter bewilderment, “Why.”

You could feel a burning sensation in the back of your throat as you started, quite hoarsely, “We’re not together anymore, Steve.”

He threw his hands in the air, “And I can’t declare that I love my children.”

You pursed your lips, trying to compose yourself. “Yet, I would still have to look at it everyday. And it was clearly meant for me.”

He stood, pacing in front of you, “Is it so wrong that I still love you.”

You closed your eyes at his admission, trying to get control of yourself. You felt a tear slide down your face and you quickly brushed it away.

“You still love me too,” he crooned.

You opened your eyes, he stood in front of you, with his hands braced on the back of the chair.

“I do,” you said as another tear leaked down your cheek. “But I’m crying because I’m carrying two babies inside of me who are fucking with my hormones and I feel like I’m losing control. It’s been over for us since you walked out when I told you I’m pregnant.”

You kept a cool head, despite the tears now freely streaming down your face. Fuck Steve. How dare he make you cry.

He looked so hurt by your admission, like he was closing into himself, trying to make himself smaller.

You squared your jaw, grabbing for a pen to fiddle with. “Need I remind you that you told me to get an abortion after I’d already started picking names for my children, which would cause me to have to pick between you and Bucky? That I didn’t want to pick, but you forced my hand so I chose. And I didn’t pick you.”

He flinched at your words, before whispering, “But I changed my mind, y/n.”

You snapped the pen in half and stood.

“You walked out when I told you about your children, and then didn’t speak to us for weeks. You got into a fist fight with Bucky. You told me to get an abortion. You’ve been nothing but cold with Bucky and flirty with me. You still want me to pick you, but the only your getting back on my life is by making things right with him so we can all be together again. Get the fuck out of my office.”

He blinked in surprise, but didn’t say anything as he left. He didn’t even look back. Weeks of pent up emotion had come up all at once and you were a sobbing mess on your office floor.

You managed to text Tony that you were going home early and Bucky to ask him to drive you home.

The next two weeks passed in a blur. You and Bucky had started prepping the apartment for the babies and you’d been extremely tired.

At 15 weeks, Bucky was so excited to tell you the babies were the size of apples. Doctor Lawrence told you they were definitely bigger than apples, as developed as 15 week fetuses, but just bigger.

You were starting to show too in tighter clothing. Not a lot, but enough.

Enough that when you looked in the mirror and cradled your belly, it was all so much more real. There’s so much more to do before they come, and then, you need to care for them, somehow.

Steve had stopped meeting you at the entrance in the morning and evening, and bringing you tea. The only time you saw him was in passing and at your ultrasound. At the latter, he didn’t say a single word, and left as soon as it was over.

You felt terribly, of course, but you tried to remind yourself it was for the best.

Everything changed the day you walked into the building and directly across from your office was a giant chalkboard. You and Bucky frowned at each other in confusion before walking up to Tony who had a piece of chalk in his hand.

“What’s this?” You asked, but you very quickly realized what it was.

“A little betting poll,” Tony said.

Indeed.

In swirling text it said, Guess the Sex. Below that, there were three columns: Two Boys; One of Each; Two Girls. Below each header was room for one to write their name and the amount they were betting.

Tony had written his name under two boys for fifty thousand dollars.

Steve had also participated it seemed and had written him name under Two Girls for two hundred dollars.

“Are you fucking kidding me Tony?” You asked, gesturing to the absurd amount of money.

“I’m trying to get people to play,” he threw up his hands in the air. “Besides, I have a feeling.”

You rolled your eyes.

Bucky took the chalk from Tony, “Well so do I,” he said, writing his name under One of Each for five hundred.

You snatched the chalk from him and said, “You’re wrong.” You put your own name down under Two Boys for a thousand. “It would only be my luck to have a house filled with boys.”

Tony laughed, “Thank you, mama!” He held out his hand for a high five, which you obliged. “You are finding out the sex, right?”

You looked at Bucky and he shrugged. You looked back at Tony and said, “Maybe.”

His protests followed you as you walked into your office, and then the fun began.

Naturally, Natasha came by your office first. She took one look at the wall and wrote her name under Two Girls. She strutted into your office and demanded to know when you’d know the sex.

You laughed, leaning back in your chair, “I don’t know, Nat. I had my last ultrasound yesterday and I don’t even know if I want to know.”

She shook her head and declared, “You want to know.” Before promptly leaving your office.

Bruce was next. He came into ask you for something, and took a seat in front of you. “So how are you feeling?”

You smiled, “Pregnant.”

He laughed, “I’m honestly surprised we’re having this conversation.”

You bit your lip, so we’re you. A year ago, this would have been the last predicament you saw yourself in.

“But it’s good!” Bruce assured you. “Babies are natural.”

You laughed. “I’m actually really excited, Bruce. I wasn’t. But I am now.”

“That’s really good,” he grinned. “You know I saw this documentary about monitoring babies development after birth until a year and I —”

“Bruce,” you interrupted, “I love you, but no. Definitely no.”

“Right!” He stood up. “Of course not. It’s not even my area of expertise.”

You chucked as he turned towards the door and jumped in surprise at the chalk board.

“Oh!” He exclaimed. “When did this get here?”

“This morning,” you called after him.

He examined it for a moment before writing his name under Two Boys.

The rest of the day went by with various coworkers stopping by to write their names on the board. Most were either for two boys or one of each. Tony’s large bet was certainly getting people to play.

Clint walked by around the time you were packing up, a sucker in his mouth.

“Nice Tony,” he said, picking up the chalk and writing his name under Two Girls.

“You seriously think I’m having two girls?” You asked coming up beside him to look at the board.

“God no,” he said. “I think you’re having two boys. But there’s less people over here, bigger pay out if I’m somehow right.”

You blinked in surprised. He wasn’t wrong there was only 5 names unde Two Girls for the fourteen on the board. He’s stand to make large amount of money if he was right.

———

“So two boys?” Bucky asked as he made dinner and you sat on the counter.

“I have no doubt in my mind,” you said as you scrolled through Pinterest on your tablet for baby room ideas.

“But don’t you want a girl?” He asked.

You nodded, “But I have a feeling we’re having two boys.”

He paused, as if in thought. “I think we’re having at least one boy. I’m kinda scared of having a boy though,” he admitted.

You frowned, putting your tablet down, “Why?”

He shrugged, “I know girls are tough but there’s something that is so scary to me about a boy taking after me.”

You stroked your belly abscent mindedly, “I hope they take after you, Buck.”

He sighed, “I know none of it was my fault, I try to tell myself that everyday. But babe, what I can do...”

You hopped off the counter and came to wrap your arms around his waist. It had been a long journey with him. When you’d first come to work for the Avengers, one of the first things you’d done was to book Bucky’s first therapy session.

Nightmares and bad days had followed, as well as two years and counting for struggling to find the right doses of medications. That at least was getting better, right after you’d started sleeping together he was out on a particularly nasty dosage that made him both violent and quick to anger.

It didn’t change that he was the best man you knew.

“The babies will be so lucky to have you,” you murmured. “To teach them, to love them, to protect them. They’ll take after you, but only in good ways. So you better get used to thinking about two boys taking after you because there’s gonna be two of them.”

He laughed, leaning over to kiss the top of your head. “You’re so sure.”

“Yep.” You pecked his lips. “Finish this, I’m starving.”

He laughed, “What do you want to do tonight?”

“Survivors on tonight,” you suggested, pulling out plates to set the table.

“Good choice,” he said.

You were just getting ready to sit down when Bucky’s phone rang. You didn’t complain as he picked it up and said, “It’s Steve.”

Pursing your lips, you picked up your own phone. Sure enough, Tony had texted: Barnes and Rogers are being sent on an assignment. Sorry :/ Come over if you’re lonely?

“It’s for work,” you said. “Pick up.” Because you still weren’t sure if he would.

He rolled his eyes and left the room. You picked at your dinner as you texted Tony back, Picking out furniture for the babies’ room and watching Survivor. My schedule is packed. Thanks though.

He texted back right away: Tomorrow night you’re coming for dinner then. And then, Odds they kill each other?

You smirked and replied with, 100% How long are they gone?

“I have to be gone for at least a week,” Bucky said coming back into the room. “Maybe more.”

You frowned. “Where are you going?”

“Didn’t say,” he pulled a takeout container from the cupboard for his dinner. “He’s picking me up in five and he’ll fill me in. He said to pack for the cold, whatever that means.”

You sighed. “Ok so I’ll make sure my next ultrasound is scheduled for when you get back.”

He shook his head, walking towards the bedroom. You followed. “Don’t skip one because I’m not here. We need to make sure they’re doing okay.”

You knew he was right, but for him to miss it...

You sat on the bed as you watched him pack, “Please don’t get into any fights with Steve while you’re out there.”

He rolled his eyes scooping clothes into his bag, “It’s not me you have to worry about.”

You pursed your lips, you weren’t so sure about that.

He saw your worried expression and came over to peck your lips. “It’ll all be fine, I promise. We’ll go, and when I get back, we’ll paint the babies rooms and you’ll have your baby shower,” he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. “And everything will be fine.”

You weren’t too worried about the mission. Him and Steve killing each other was another story.

You still forced a smile into your face and kissed him properly. Both arms wrapping around his neck, kissing him like you needed it to breathe.

He chuckled, breaking free, “I can feel my phone buzzing, Steve’s here.”

You groaned but still followed him out the door. Steve was parked outside and raised a hand to wave as you walked out.

Bucky put his bag in the trunk and wrapped his arms around you, “A week.”

You nodded, “One week.”

He kissed you again, “You take care of my babies.”

You smiled, “Stay safe baby. I love you.”

He nodded, kissing you one more time. With so much fire and passion you wanted to take him back to bed. But you just kissed back harder and when he broke it, you let him go.

The window was open as he climbed into the car, you leaned forward, looking Steve dead in the eye as you said, “I don’t care if you two have issues, you take care of each other and you both come home safe.”

Because the reality was, it didn’t matter if they hated or loved each other. All you cared about was that they came home safe.

Tags (are open!)

@booktease21 @sexyvixen7 @just-the-hiddles @fading-mentality-bouquet @a--1--1--3 @broco8 @yougottalovefandoms @hailqueenconquer @tazzi-baby @imaginebeinlovedbyme @amiets2 @prettyblueskylark

[wriggleum]

Your Hand In Mine

on AO3 ! Summary: Jack wants to cook dinner for Bitty because he realizes that he's never properly cooked him dinner before. prompt: Jack cooks dinner for @jackzimmermannturns30​ Words: 8819 Chapters:1/1 Rating: G Relationship: Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Jack Zimmermann Warnings: Concussions

“What’s wrong? Did I mess up the recipe? My hand kinda slipped when I was seasoning the chicken and I dropped a lot of paprika in the bowl. I thought I fixed it?” Jack had been staring at his plate for what was most likely an awkward amount of time after he had taken a bite of chicken breast. But Jack was just stuck in his head. He had a thought earlier during breakfast. Bitty cooks for him all the time. He makes dinner for them whenever they’re together and if Bitty isn’t around Jack can always just heat up one of the premade meals stocked up in his freezer. Bits is just amazing like that, and he insists that it’s no trouble at all. The thing that’s getting to Jack is the fact that he’s never cooked dinner for Bitty. It’s been bothering him all day, during his run, all through practice, at the gym and when he came home and took his nap up until he hit the ice. It’s not that Jack can’t cook, he can cook just fine. He’s never actually followed a recipe before. His mother taught him how to cook chicken at one point, and he can follow packing instructions perfectly. His food may lack seasoning most of the time —he became aware of that fact at some point his sophomore year, Shitty broke it to him gently after a few bites of whatever he made for dinner that night— salt was pretty much the only thing he had in his cupboards before he met Eric. A spice rack was one the first items Bitty added to his kitchen when he visited for the first time over the summer of his second year. His kitchen has never been the same. Despite the lack of seasoning in his food, it gets him fed and full. His meal plan didn’t allow for much variety. Jack had never minded it. Yet for a while it was eat to bulk up, and eat to keep him going. Then Bitty came in and ruined it all for him with his pies. Jack will be reluctant to admit he’s snuck away with a few extra slices of pie in the middle of the night while he was living in the Haus. At least he’s not living off of takeout like some people he knows. So yes Jack can cook, but he honestly doesn’t know how he survived without Eric’s cooking for the years that he did. His baking is next level, that's a known fact of life, but his cooking is just as good. Meanwhile Jack's cooking looked like lukewarm high school cafeteria food compared to Bittys carefully thought out dishes. The fact is Eric is always cooking for Jack and Jack feels kind of bad about it. It’s not like Bitty isn’t busy with his (second!) book and the Youtube channel and then he goes and insists on cooking for Jack or prepping meals for when he’s off doing bookdeal stuff. So Jack is going to take it upon himself and make a meal for his husband. It’s really the least he could do for him.  Looking back down at his plate of perfectly seasoned chicken breast —Eric’s mistake not noticeable at all— surrounded by flavorful green beans and cauliflower. It was all so good and exceeded anything Jack could have made for himself without a recipe. “Bits, there's honestly nothing wrong with the chicken. It’s perfect actually.” Eric squints at him from across their plates. “Ok then why do I feel a but coming?” “But,” Jack chuckled. “You’re always cooking for me. Us.” Jack stabs a bit of green bean and chicken onto his fork, stuffing it into his mouth, chewing for a bit and swallowing “You’ve been so busy Bits and you’re still cooking dinner for us and baking and going all over the place and I don’t know.” Jack paused and took a sip of water gathering himself. “I feel bad.” An outraged look crosses Bitty’s face for a second. He scoffed and says, “You made breakfast for me the other morning! You grill all the time during offseason!” “Scrambled eggs and a toasted bagel can hardly count compared to what you end up cooking, and that takes minimum effort.” Jack gives Bitty a long stare, “Also you season and marinate the meat whenever we barbeque. Here I thought you of all people would understand that premade chicken tenders and a homemade lasagna aren’t the same thing.” Jack goes to eat another bite from his plate but then says, “Also I meant dinner. You’re always cooking dinner. When was the last time I actually cooked dinner?” Bitty takes the time to honestly think about it but looks up at Jack sheepishly a moment later. “That’s what I thought. If you don’t want to cook we just end up ordering take out or we go out somewhere.” Bitty rolls his eyes at Jack, “Well, you’ve got a point there hun I’ll give you that.” They go back to eating, Bitty’s dinner playlist playing softly in the background. Then Jack has a thought. “I’m going to cook dinner for you.” he looks Eric in the eyes, “As soon as possible.” Bitty looks like he’s trying really hard not to laugh, Jack pouts. “Oh honey, that's real sweet of you, and I would love that! Don’t get me wrong.” he picks up his glass of water and tries to take a sip to hide his suppressed laughter but fails. “I’m not laughing at you ok, so please stop with that face. It was just you were so serious about it.” Bitty giggles and grabs Jack's hand next to his and smiles brightly at him, “I really would love to have whatever you cook up!” “Ok so what do you want?” “Oh you know I’ll have whatever!” When Jack doesn’t respond to that, Bitty rolls his eyes again and pulls out his phone and starts tapping away. “Oh ok, ok. I’ll send  you one of my Pinterest boards and you can choose something from there, how about that?” “I would really appreciate that. Thank you Bits.” Jack's own phone pings and he smiles down at it. He saves the link to the board to look at later and goes back to polishing off his plate. *** The next day after practice Jack is sitting in the nook scrolling through the Pinterest board Bitty sent him titled Quick ‘n Easy: Beginner Friendly Recipes. When Jack first saw the board he looked at it a bit suspiciously. He couldn’t think of a reason as to why Bitty would have a board of recipes for beginners. It would make more sense if it was for his Youtube but the board itself has no baking recipes in it. Bitty must have had it already made because he had sent it when Jack had asked, and there were a lot of recipes already in it. He’d have to ask Bitty about it later. Now, Jack was struggling with what to choose. Did he want to with the easier option of a pasta dish, or did he want to do something like a steak with a couple of sides to go with it? He really wanted to cook Bitty the best dinner he possibly could. Apparently Jack was stressing about choosing a recipe harder than he thought because the first thing Tater said when he sat down next to him was, “What is matter Zimmboni? You look as if you are making big life decision. You talk to Bitty yet?” Snowy who sat down across from them chimed in, “Yeah man I don’t think you can stick your phone any closer to your face without it becoming a part of you.” Jack suppressed a sigh. Might as well come out with it, these two sure as hell won’t leave him alone without Jack saying something. “I’m going to cook dinner for Bitty.” “Ah, you cook for little B! What are you cooking?” Tater wiggled in glee, peaking over Jack's shoulder to glance at his phone. Handing his phone straight over to Tater, Jack poked at his packed lunch —prepared by none other than Bitty. “That’s the problem.” Jacked sighed, “I don’t know.” “What is it, an anniversary or something?” Snowy asked. “No it’s just Eric is always making dinner for us and I just want to cook dinner for him for a change.” Jack explained. “Ahh gotcha.” It was silent for a second but Jack felt the brunt of Snowy’s piercing stare. He didn’t say anything but Jack could see it in his eyes when he looked straight back at him: what the hell Jack, you don’t cook for your husband? When he’s not only been cooking for you, but he brings in plates and plates of amazing baked goods for the team? Really Jack? For shame. He could hear it clearly in his head in Snowy’s smooth drawl. When Snowy looked down at his own food, breaking the eye contact that went on only for a second or two, Jack chastised himself. Snowy would never seriously say something like that. Chirp him to hell and back? Oh for sure. Jack snapped out of it when Tater exclaimed, “Oh Zimmboni! Cook this, is perfect!” Tater wiggled the phone in Jack’s face. Taking it back he looked down at the screen, it looked like it was no longer on Pinterest but rather on a blog post. Snowy snorted, “Oh yeah? Or is it just something you want to eat?” “Of course I want to eat, if I want to eat it is going to be good for little B!” The two chirped back and forth while Jack scrolled through the blog. It was a blog post with several other recipes in it. There’s a lot of text, the post going on and on about the bloggers family —something about a family reunion?— with so many pictures of people and food. By a photographers standpoint it wasn’t actually that bad. The composition was actually quite nice, and the lighting in all the shots was beautiful. Jack mentally noted to go back to the blog again later but for now he went back to looking for the recipe that he still hadn’t gotten to despite scrolling for a good bit. “So?” Tater looks over to Jack with an eager look. “Euh, what was it you wanted me to cook?” “What! Zimmboni please.” Jack gives his phone back to Tater, feeling a bit like he just was scolded. Tater quickly scrolled through the blog straight to the recipe and showed it to Jack. “This one! It sounds good and looks very easy.” The recipe read, One-pot lemon shrimp pasta. The dish was only five ingredients and the instructions themselves fit into one small paragraph. That seemed simple enough but it also sounded really good. Jack made sure to bookmark the page when Tater handed his phone back to him. “Send updates. I want to know how it comes out.” “Sure Tater, I’ll send you updates.” Snowy snorted between a bite of sandwich, “Can you even cook Zimmerman?” Jack quirked an eyebrow, “Can you?” Snowy said nothing but gave Jack a slight nod of his head as if to say touché. It was a fact that all the Falconers knew, something that Tater brought up constantly, is that Snowy can’t cook to save his life. At least Jack can fend for himself tasteless as his food may be. He really hoped the shrimp pasta was as easy as it seemed. *** The next day Jack facetimed his mother after practice. “Maman, I need your help.” “Oh?” Alicia raised a perfectly plucked brow. Jack explained the situation and Alicia nodded and hummed appropriately. In the end she smiled that superstar smile, all genuine and glimmering white. A twinkle of mirth in her eyes. “I think that’s wonderful. If anyone deserves a home cooked meal it’s Eric.” Jacked nodded in agreement, because that was a very obvious statement. Bitty deserved everything. “But what is it exactly that you need help with? Want me to talk you through the steps?” Alicia ginned. “No maman.” Jack rolled his eyes playfully. “Just. Do you think it sounds good? And Should I add anything else to the food, or on the side? What about drinks that go with it? Should I even bother making a desert or should I just buy it?” “Jack, sweetheart. The recipe sounds delicious. You’re going to have to make it for your father and I next time we visit. And you can’t go wrong with a dry rosé.” Alicia hummed a bit, thinking about Jack’s other questions. “You could add some bread for the side. Perfect for soaking up the pasta sauce. I think you should go to that bakery Eric is always going on about, and maybe get some dessert while you’re there. But I wouldn’t stress about all that, Eric knows you’re not a baker.” Jack thanks his mother for the advice and after the call ends he heads out straight to the store to pick up all the ingredients. Before heading into the grocery he stops by Bitty’s favorite bakery and asks about pre orders and says that he’ll keep in touch. At the grocery store Jack texts his mother a picture of the bottle of wine he picks out  just in case; he gets back a string of thumb up emojis and a longer string of various hearts. The recipe called for linguine but he knew Bitty didn’t really prefer it so he stood in the aisle looking at a box of bowtie pasta and a box of penne. Why in the world are there so many types of pasta? In the end he chucked in the penne into his basket because a mother was giving him a mean side eye for taking so long. Thankfully he didn’t have any other issues with getting the other ingredients, so the rest of the trip went a lot quicker. At home Jack put what he could of his supplies in a box and stuffed it in the pantry, the rest went in the freezer and the fridge wrapped up so Bitty couldn’t tell what it was. It wasn’t long after that Jack found Bitty poking around in the pantry. “I’m only looking for flour Jack. Why would I snoop when you told me not to? How could you accuse me so.” he said, thickening up his accent and looking playfully aghast. Jack jokingly shoved him away from the pantry, “Move along Bittle we both know you keep all of the flour in the cupboard.” “Hmm really? I guess I do, don’t I Mr. Bittle-Zimmerman. My apologies I’ll be making my way along to the cupboards then.” *** After all that Jack was sucked into the world of hockey. The playoffs were right around the corner and the Falconers were doubling down in preparation for it. They had a good chance of making it through. So Jack promptly forgot about cooking dinner for his husband and was in full hockey robot mode. Bitty was just as busy with his second book, and he knew how Jack got during the playoffs so he didn’t mention anything. After all, if he really wanted Jack would have all the time in the world to cook when the offseason came around. *** It was an earlier night than usual for Jack. He had to be up extra early for a flight to Pittsburgh and wanted to get enough sleep so that he wasn’t wound up for the whole plane ride. Bitty was getting ready for bed, brushing his teeth in the bathroom. When he hopped into bed and kissed Jack goodnight it was minty and sweet. Before he drifted off into sleep he had a feeling that he was forgetting something. *** They’re a second game into the playoffs, and It’s a home game. It’s warm ups, the national anthem, and then the puck drops. A Penguin wins the face-off and Jack is right behind them. It’s give and take the whole first period, Thirdy gets a pretty goal from the blue line hitting the net right behind the goalie's shoulder. But a Penguin scored one right after, keeping them 1-1 for the rest of the first period and well into the second. Each team took shot after shot on the goal but none were going in after those first two goals from each team. It’s when they come back onto the ice for the third period that it all goes to shit. Jack has the puck and is on his way into the offensive zone, he’s got a huge Penguin on his heels (number 85) and he’s trying hard to push Jack toward the boards. Jack clenches his mouth guard and takes a quick look around to see if anyone is near to pass the puck to. He gives the puck away at the last moment, but Jack was too close to the boards when 85 slashes him with his stick on the outside of his right leg, taking his skates right out from under him and with the speed they were both skating at there was no way to stop 85 from crushing Jack right into the boards. Jack wasn’t sure if he heard a whistle or not, but he was already falling. His shoulder hit the glass first and on the way down his head hit the edge of the dasher board, helmet catching and flying off. His temple hits the ice and it all goes black for a second. When he opens his eye the lights from the rink are blinding and for a very long second Jack panics and then he’s aware of pain and everything blows up around him. He can hear Tater cursing in russin, he already knows he probably has 85’s jersey in his large fists. Thirdy is asking how Jack feels, and he can only blink at him slowly and then he’s cursing as well. Jack isn’t exactly sure how long it takes, but at some point the team doctor is out on the ice blocking his view of the rafters asking him too many questions. What hurts? Everything. Can he move? Sure, but he doesn’t want to. Finally, he asks if Jack needs a stretcher and Jack says no so the trainer and Thirdy help him up and help him across the ice, players around them tapping their sticks on the ice and against the boards. He’s nauseous the whole way across the ice and it takes everything in him not to spue across it. His head is pounding, his ears are buzzing, and the world is spinning. It’s nothing like the smaller concussion he got while in the Q. He’s been lucky so far, but he guessed it was bound to run out at some point. After Jack is off the ice things get a little hazy, the last thing Jack wants to be at the moment is awake. Bitty is looking frantic and now Jack feels guilty and he has a pounding headache. The trip to the hospital is pretty unmemorable to him, and while at the hospital the haze isn’t as bad he’s still having a pretty terrible time. Jack goes through all the necessary procedures, takes too long to answer a few of the doctor's simple questions and promptly gets shoved into an MRI machine and then he’s waking up in a hospital bed, the lights are off. Bitty is sleeping on the most uncomfortable looking couch in existence next to his bed, and he’s really hating 85 right about now. Jack takes stock of himself. His head is unsurprisingly still pounding, he lifts a hand to graze at his temple and it’s tender as hell. Probably already bruised up. His shoulder is stiff, twinging with the slightest movement. And most of all he wants to sleep for a good solid month. Jack tries moving a bit but after his body screams at him he decides he’ll just wither away in the position he’s in at the moment.A gasp to his left shocks him and he winches when he jumps a bit at it. “You’re awake!” Bitty was off of the couch in a blink and next to Jack holding onto his hand in moments. “How’re you feelin’ hun? I know it's probably terrible.” Frowning, Jack thinks back to when Bitty was sprawled on the ice helmet feet away from him. The terror he felt. It’s unfortunately a part of the game and can happen to anyone but Jack still feels bad about the undoubtable stress Bitty probably went through having to watch what happened to Jack from behind the glass unable to get to him. “Sorry Bits.” Confused Bitty responds, “What for? If anyone has to be sorry it’s that 85.” “It’s ju-” Jack was cut off by the doctor entering his room. She explained the situation to both Jack and Bitty but Jack wasn’t really paying much attention. The pain behind his eyes was making it hard to concentrate. Apparently he has a grade 3 concussion and at some point during the hit he popped his shoulder in and out. They want to keep him overnight for observation. Jack was going to protest but thought better of it when he saw Bitty’s glare. Jack would have rolled his eyes if it didn’t cause him pain, so he closed them instead raising the cheap hospital blanket to his chin. Bitty continued to talk to the doctor, their voices a low whisper. Tabarnak, Jack thought. He was out for at least a month, maybe two. Meaning he was done, he was officially out for the rest of playoffs. At least he had more than enough time to heal. He must have dozed off for a few because when he came to again the doctor was gone and Marty was handing a bag off to Bitty. Marty had retired the year prior but hangs out with everyone whenever he’s not busy with his family, and gives Tater pointers from time to time since he handed off his A to him. “Whenever you’re ready to leave you guys just give me a call and I’ll pick you up.” Jack wanted to thank Marty but one second he was blinking and when he opened his eyes again —with great reluctance— he was gone and a nurse was checking out the machines next to his bed, a soft light making its way through the shut blinds. Bitty wasn’t on the couch next to him but the nurse saw him looking around and said that he had only left a few minutes ago, so that left Jack to deal with the nurses poking and prodding him after what felt like zero hours of sleep despite knocking out for a while. He hated hospitals and he hated being incapacitated. Jack knew he was a horrible patient, but he’d always been like that. Though he thought he was polite enough to the poor nurse who had to deal with him. For breakfast they gave him some bland soup and crackers that Jack didn’t really want to eat, but Bitty came back just as they were rolling in the cart, a cup of steaming cafeteria coffee in his hand. He gave Jack a look and it was enough that he begrudgingly slurped at his watery soup. A quick visit from the doctor and some tests later and Jack was free to go home. Not without explicit warning from the doctor and nurses to not strain himself and to listen to their instructions. To get the frown off his face Bitty read the texts from the Falcs and the old SMH hockey team telling him to get well soon, as they escaped by way of a back door straight into Marty’s car to make a clean getaway. “You know the drill.” Bitty said as soon as they made it home, the door locked behind them. Jack sighed, he did in fact know the drill. It was drilled into him by several people in the hospital and as well as Marty on the way home. “Bits. Bud. I stink. I still have to shower.” Jack felt grimmy. He never got to shower after the game and on top of that he has hospital all over him. Bitty scrunched up his nose, “Yeah. You reek.” A quick shower later with Bitty keeping watch on the toilet who gave him a play by play of the rest of the game after Jack’s exit. He was honest with him back at the hospital when Jack asked how the team fared after his exit. Short answer was that Falcs lost in regulation, 1-3 (in the end the Falconers advanced to game six without Jack, they fought hard but it wasn't enough and they lost it all in the next round. It’s hard to lose when you’re so close, but Jack found it especially difficult not being there for his team when they needed him the most).   Jack went straight to bed after his quick shower, his mattress felt amazing after laying in the lump of a thing the hospital made it’s patience lay in. He was staring at the ceiling thinking about all the things he wasn’t able to do when Bitty came in a few minutes later, a bowl of steaming something in his hands. “Chicken soup! You definitely need to get something in you, I have no idea what they tried feeding you back at the hospital but it definitely shouldn’t have the right to be called soup, let alone chicken soup.” Bitty was handing it off to Jack his fingertips barely grazed the bowl when it hit him. It was so sudden that Jack physically recoiled, shocking both Bitty and himself. “Bits!” Jack gasped, pulling his hands back. Bitty pulled the bowl back towards himself, almost flingling the contents of it all over the both of them. “What oh my god I didn’t think the bowl was that hot!” Shoving his face into his hands he groaned, “I was supposed to cook dinner for you!” Setting down the bowl of soup on the nightstand on Jack's side he let out a long d’awww, “I wondered how long it would be until you remembered.” He gave Jack's upper arm a little squeeze. “I think you get a pass from cooking. You were all busy getting ready for playoffs and then actually making it to the playoffs! And well...” And he waved a hand over Jack. “Considering your bedridden figure ‘n all. Plus that terrible looking bruise on your head.” “But Bitty it was supposed to be a thing. I even bought everything ahead of time. I was even going to pre order bread from your favorite bakery. I talked to them and everything. Why didn’t you say anything?” Jack only felt slightly betrayed. “Don’t you worry about cooking for me mister!” Bitty scolded, “You had this idea come into your head when playoffs were creeping up right around the corner, you know how you get during this part of the season. And well you just worry about getting better and then you can make me dinner whenever you want.” Picking the bowl of soup back up Bitty hands it off to Jack or he tires to and is unsuccessful because Jack is crossing his arms and pouting in bed like an overgrown toddler. “Oh my god!” Jack harrumphs. “You infant!” Bitty is trying really hard not to smile. “You giant manchild! Are you seriously refusing my soup? Do you think I won’t tweet about this?” Bitty wipes his smile away, putting on his most serious expression. “Eat the damn soup Jack.” he says, making it sound like a warning. “What are you going to do if I don’t eat the soup?” Jack smirks back. Bitty mutters under his breath, “Geez for someone with a serious concussion…” and then he trails off and says louder. “Jack you don’t wanna play these games with me. Not only will I call you mother, who I was assured will come down with the drop of a hat, your father in tow. But I will call Shitty as well.” How quickly Jack uncrossed his arms and grabbed the bowl of soup had Bitty stuffing his laughter behind both of his hands. “My own husband on the cusp of betrayal.” It was Bitty’s turn to smirk. *** The first week Jack caught up on a lot of sleep and listened to one full audiobook read outloud to him from his laptop that he carried from room to room when he felt restless and was sick of lying in bed. That was all he could really do. Listen to his audiobook for a few minutes a time, rest, get up, walk around the house, get a terrible headache, nap, repeat. And worst of all he wasn’t allowed in the kitchen when Bitty was around. Which at the moment was all the time. Jack has never wanted to cook a meal so badly, he was so excited to be able to do something for his husband who works so hard. But Bitty refused to let him cross the threshold between the dining room and kitchen, even if Jack claimed it was just for a glass of water. To which Bitty would then say, “You have a glass and a water bottle and a gatorade next to the bed.” and then Jack would turn tail and lay under the covers because the bright natural lighting from the kitchen was stabbing his eyes like knives. Without hockey, or TV, or physical books Jack was bored out of his mind by the second week. The bruising around his temple had turned a sickly shade of pale greens and brights yellows and browns. The headaches were still there but definitely not as bad as the week prior. But he still wasn’t allowed to do much of anything, especially with Bitty keeping like a sentinel; Guardian of the Kitchen. Jack could admit himself he was getting restless and he was definitely being a grump at times. Bitty thankfully didn’t take his shit moods and would sweetly tell Jack to take a nap if he was going to be ill-tempered, or to take up knitting or something to keep him occupied. After a few days into the second week of The Concussion, Jack was waking up from a mid afternoon nap and was on his way to the kitchen to be a bother when he overheard Bitty talking to someone in the living room. Jack peaked his head in and waved to Bitty who was talking on the phone, pacing back and forth barefoot on their extremely soft white (fake) fur rug. Bitty waved back absent mindley and then did a double take, glaring at Jack he did the I’m watching you hand motion and then pointed sternly at the couch. Jack shrugged and plopped right down in the middle of their couch wrapping a plush throw blanket around himself, catching the rest of Bitty’s conversation. “You know I would love to and I would hate to cancel but Betty, I don’t think I can go.” And nope. Jack had a hunch on what this was about and Jack was definitely not letting Bitty cancel.Getting up from the couch Jack stood in front of Bitty who gave him a curious look. Jack looked right at him and whispered, “Go!”. With a furrowed brow he shook his head, while Jack nodded his. “Yes! Go! I can take care of myself just fine. Bits, go to your convention.” Jack whispered. Bitty bit at his bottom lip, thought about it for a second and then told his agent. “On second thought Betty I think I will be able to make it. You can go ahead and confirm!” The yay! That came from the other end of the phone was loud enough for Jack to hear as he fell back onto the couch. When Bitty hung up with the date and hour of his flight to California written on a notepad, he put his hands on his waist and gave Jack a very squinty glare. “Want me outta your hair don’t ya?” Chuckling Jack pulled Bitty down onto the couch hugging him but then unwrapped the blanket from himself, rewrapped it around the both of them and then slinked his arms back around Bitty. “No Bits. But you have stuff to do and just because I’m not working at the moment means you stop working too. I don’t want you to miss out on all of these opportunities you’re getting!” Bitty went to protest but Jack cut in before he could say anything. “I know you rescheduled a meeting with that publishing company in New York the other day.” Bitty tsked, but then he hugged Jack tightly back. So they came to an agreement and Bitty was on his way to LA by the end of the week. And Jack thought he was bored before. But at least got to practice the dish he was supposed to have cooked for Bitty. Instead he invited Tater over who had a lot of input with how Jack prepared the food and cut vegetables. But he was always good company even when he was nagging over Jack's shoulder the whole time he was cooking. “‘S very good!” Tater hummed as he chowed down on Jack's creation. “Have to facetime Snowy, show that Zimmboni can cook.” “Were you guys seriously doubting me?” “Yes.” Came from Taters phone that he was pointing at his own half eaten plate of pasta. Jack took his own to wash having finished while Tater chattered, shaking his head on the way to the sink. By the third week Jack is still bored out of his mind, but at least Bitty is back, the downside is that he’s really doubling up on his youtube content in anticipation of his second book release. He’s doing several collaborations. He actually already did a few while he was in LA and he’s been editing every day hunched over his laptop at odd hours because he still refuses to hire someone else to do it for him. Jack had forgotten that one of the collabs was with the Falcs social media team, filming something for his own channel and a second video for FalcsTV. So when he walked into the kitchen one Saturday morning and saw the kitchen in full Bitty-Is-Recoriging mode with the addition of Poots, Tater, and Snowy. Jack was actually surprised and thankful he had actually put on pants because his teammates would never let him live it down for walking around half naked in his own home. Unfortunately Jack was having a major headache that day so he only stayed for some hellos and a snack before he retreated back into the bedroom for the rest of the day. He was feeling a little better by the time Bitty came in ready for bed, cuddling up to him and falling asleep in seconds, breath ticking the back of his neck. The fourth week was an improvement from the previous ones. Bitty was away again finalizing book deal stuff so Jack was home alone. But Jack was finally able to do some reading and light trainer approved workouts with the approval of his doctor after a follow up. Now that he had something to occupy his time with he was not only feeling better physically but also mentally. Best of all was the fact that Jack was able to get onto the ice, with the stipulation of not overworking himself. But the sooner he was on the ice the sooner he could get with his personal trainer, and get his ass kicked into shape again. He has to get his stamina back up though, a few circles around the ice and he was definitely feeling it. It would only be another few weeks until Jack was able to officially get to work on putting his body back into shape. By the time Jack was good to go he was hopping on a plane to Quebec for a quick trip to see his parents. He was getting call after call from his father complaining about not knowing what his face looked like anymore— despite several facetime calls. Jack told him he could come down himself and his father said, “I’m getting old Jack, I’m tired of traveling. I've done it my whole life you’ll understand when you get to my age.” “Ok old man I’ll fly up.” “Hey!” Bob protested at being called old by his son, when two seconds ago he was just complaining about getting old. Jack had to shake his head at that. In all honesty the second his father mentioned a visit to his old home Jack was already pulling up listings of flights and had bought a ticket while his dad was blustering on about how good he looked for his age or something like that. Jack had tuned him out a bit. A month and some weeks out of commission, stuck at home with not much to keep him entertained and Jack was itching to get out. Jack would be back home in Providence in time for his birthday —so would Bitty who was still out… doing something Jack wasn’t too sure but he knew it invloed the new book and a possible show? Bitty was being very hush hush about it. He said he didn’t want to jinx anything. Jack wasn’t supposed to have heard that particular conversation but he was in the room first when Bitty answered the phone, so that was all on his husband. It only hit him while he was out having dinner with his parents and they asked him what he was planning for his birthday that he was like huh. Jack is turning thirty. The big three-oh. In reality Jack wasn’t bothered by turning thirty, he was still plenty young. In the hockey world though, it made him sweat a little. He learned not to pay attention to the media long ago, but he still has bad days and when several outlets ragged on about how he’s past his prime years he can’t help but let it bother him a little. He was on the phone with Bitty when his birthday came up again. “So did you want to do anything special for your birthday? We both get back on the 1st right? We can plan something out if you want. We haven’t really had time to talk about it huh?” Bitty’s voice crackled through Jack’s phone. On the screen Jack was getting a spectacular view of his nose and all the hair inside it. Jack laid back onto the overstuffed pillow his mother kept in his old bedroom, having changed it long ago to a guest bedroom changing out his old twin to a full. “I don’t know, I haven’t really thought about it. It’s just another birthday you know? I think I’ve done all there is to do. Or at least all I’ve ever really wanted to do birthday wise.” Bitty shifted, propping his phone up against a pillow or something because now Jack was able to see him from his head to his chest. He was fluffing up pillows and getting comfortable for bed, laying down to face Jack fully. He looked at Jack sideways from his current position laying down. “What about tigers?” “Tigers?” “Oh yeah tigers.” he said with a serious tone "Thirty is kind of a big deal, you’re no longer twenty. I think that deserves a wild party with some tigers.” “Nah, I think that’s more of a fiftieth birthday type of thing.” Bitty paused but then went, “Hmmm Ok then!” Not long after that they said their goodnights and when Jack’s screen went black he squinted at his reflection with an inkling of suspicion. “He’s definitely trying to plan something.” *** It was late but he was back home, suitcase in hand Jack was dead on his feet. Never more glad to be home. He was greeted by the smell of freshly baked pie and if Jack listened closely he could hear his bed calling to him. But first. Bitty. He was sitting at the dining room table typing away at his laptop with a plate left only with pie crumbs next to him. He must have heard Jack walk in because he immediately closes his laptop and turns around with a blinding smile and holds his arms out for a hug that Jack was already going to give. “Welcome back handsome.” Bitty said into Jack’s chest. “Feels like I haven’t seen you in forever.” Jack smiled, “You’ve been busy.” he passed a hand through Bitty’s freshly shaved undercut. Sighing, Bitty losend up in Jack arms, “Yeah it’s all been a bit hectic but I’ve got some exciting stuff coming along.” “Anything you want to share with your loving husband?” “I don’t want to say anything just yet!” “Ok, ok! Well if you’re done here want to get to bed?” “I would love nothing more.” *** Jack sleeps in the next day, he decides that morning the first time he wakes up to take the day off from his morning run. The second time he wakes up it’s because Bitty is getting out of bed, he kisses Jack’s forehead and then Jack out again. The third and final time Jack wakes up it’s because he’s being crushed. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY BRAH!” Jack shoves Shitty off from him and gives him an icy glare. “What the fuck Shits? And my birthday is tomorrow!” “I know.” Jack exhales loudly and gets out of bed. No use in trying to get anymore sleep with Shitty around. In the kitchen he finds Lardo and Bitty quietly conversing, pie dough rolled out between them and Jack is so sure that a pie is already baking away in the oven, even if the smell wasn’t a dead give away. The day is filled with a lot of pie and catching up. The only time they’ve had recently to talk is the odd facetime call and whenever Lardo and Shitty had time for a game or two in Boston. Shitty is busy with his firm and Lardo has been getting huge commissions from a few major companies so they’ve all been fairly busy with life and being adults. So it’s nice to take a day to talk, have a couple of beers and eat a few pies while screaming at each other over Mario Kart and Smash. It’s later at night when they’ve just finished watching 1917 —Jack’s been wanting to watch it but kept on forgetting about it until Lardo mentioned it when they were all throwing suggestions for movies— that Shitty says. “Hey we’re going out tomorrow for a little bit, just you and me. Two bros out in the town.”   Jack laughs out loud and replies, “Sure Shitty.” And the following day at nine in the morning Jack wakes up with Bitty in his arms, his steady breath hitting the side of his neck and he's officially thirty years old. Bitty makes him special birthday pancakes for breakfast —they’re really just maple blueberry pancakes, and everyone else is having them too— and Shitty insists that they pop a single candle in his stack and sing him happy birthday. When that’s all done and they’re all full, Shitty slaps Jack on the back and tells him to get ready. On their way out Bitty gives him a tight hug, Lardo gives him one too that’s less constricting and then Jack is in Shitty’s hands. Shitty’s first stop is at the historic downtown area in Providence where a cluster of vintage stores crowd both sides of the street. They both take their time visiting each store, looking through them and all they have to hold. In one of the stores dedicated to mostly just vintage clothing Shitty finds a horrendously patterned disco shirt, it’s made of a material that squeaks. “Lardo’s going to kill me if I let you bring that home.” “Brah, if I have to wear clothing it might as well be clothes that speak to my soul.” Jack walks out of the store as Shitty is forking the cash over to an all too pleased cashier, and walks into the next one over. And it’s much more what Jack is into. The smell of old books permeates the air, it’s very dusty and books line shelves are stuffed into bins, and there are even towers of books stacked up on the floor all over. He’s already across the room looking through the titles on the shelves in the back when Shitty comes rustling in with his bag that holds the ugliest shirt Jack has ever seen is being carried in. He may not be the most fashion forward, and he may have committed some fashion crimes in his time but come on. Looking down at his watch Jack can’t help but be shocked at the amount of time that’s flown by while they were walking around. It’s well into the afternoon and Jack was getting kind of hungry.  So he goes to pay for the little pile of books he’s gathered (one is a personal journal dated from 1946, another was an old mystery novel and cute little vintage cookbook for Bitty.) and asks Shitty if he wants to go get some food. He hums a bit glancing at his phone before answering Jack, “I think…” he types out a text, “We should eat something light. I'm sure Bitty is planning some sort of feast or something for when we get back.” “Ha, you’re not wrong.” So they find a cart selling hot dogs and walk to a park nearby to eat their food at a pickin table by a lake. Jack finished his two dogs in a few bites but Shitty is still on just one. He’s doing a lot more talking than eating, telling a ridiculous story about an intern and a major coffee mishap that invloed a few sick and one injured. By the time Shitty was done with both of his hotdogs and the story it was already half past three. Shitty was furiously texting on his phone, while Jack sares off towards a cluster of trees where two squirrels were chasing each other around the base, upwards, and then back down again. “Ok time to go!” Shitty shouted, slamming his phone down the table. “Euh, ok?” It was getting kind of late so Jack picked up his books and followed Shitty back to his car. When they were on the way home Jack realized what was happening. Bitty had planned a party. A few minutes later his suspicions were confirmed when all along his driveway and lawn were a cluster of cars. Loud music was coming from inside and out of the house. Jack gave Shitty a sidelong glance; his smile was wide underneath his mustache. The front door was already open and when he walked in the party was already underway. He dropped off his books at a table full of gifts before making his way through his own birthday party. Most of the Falconers and the old Samwell hockey team were gathered throughout the house and the backyard. He even spots his mother and father mingling with George by the couches. Ransom and Holster screamed at him and jostled him around when they spotted him. Nursery, Dex, and Chowder were more subdued but still loud enough to draw the attention of Tater and Snowy who greeted him like Ransom and Holster did which was much more obnoxious because he sees them regularly. And so it went, much the same as he made his way throughout the house and into the backyard, meeting old teammates and saying hello to his current teammates' families. When he finally made it to the backyard with a plate full of food in one hand and a cup of water in the other he was greeted by Marty, Thirdy and their respective wives. They chattered for a little while, Jack mostly listening while he ate, when a shrill scream drew his attention away. It was Bitty running around the grass playing with a pack of children and preteens, they all seemed to be playing a fierce game of tag. Jack knew the second he laid eyes on his husband his eyes went soft. Something bloomed in his chest at the thought of Bitty running around with a child of their own in this very backyard. Marty lightly punched his arm, nodding to the group of children currently chasing Bitty. “You talk to him about it yet?” Nodding Jack replied, “It’ll come up from time to time, we’ve talked about adopting.” and they have talked about it. It’s always out of the blue when they’re both silent, in bed or watching TV, or out for a walk. Bitty will say, “We should adopt.” and Jack will agree, and then they both say, “In the future.” But Jack right then in that moment, with Bitty laughing under a dogpile of giggling children, thinks why not now? It’s not long after that Bitty comes jogging up to him, grass stains on his knees, a smile stretched across his face making his cheek so very pink. He stands on his toes and gives a sloppy kiss on his cheek. “Time for cake?” Jack grins and nods and they go hand in hand into the kitchen and the windows can barely stand it when everyone sings happy birthday. *** “There's only one thing I really wanted for my Birthday that I didn’t get yesterday.” Jack is making the both of them smoothies. His mother and father helped them clean up the morning after Jack’s party. They left a while ago telling them to enjoy themselves, so now it’s just Bitty and Jack back in the kitchen where they always tend to gravitate to. “And what’s that?” “I never got to make you that dinner I promised.” Pearls of laughter spill out from deep within Bitty’s chest. “Alright I think it’s about time I get this dinner.” Neither of them wanted to go out so Jack orders the ingredients through a delivery app and in the meantime they bake a pie. Jack has baked plenty of pies with Bitty over the years at this point, he’s become quite the expert at draping the crust just right and his lattice is always laced perfectly. The one they make is more for the fun of it, since they both have had their fair share of sweets during the last few days. The pie is probably going to a grateful neighbor later on. “Yesterday was really nice Bits, thank you for that.” Bitty who’s washing his hands free of flour smiles warmly at him, “Anything for you hun, I just wanted you to have a special day. You only turn thirty once.” Bitty takes a handtowl and wipes his hands dry. “And I’ll have you know it was Shitty’s idea to take out and “distract you”.” “Of course it was” Jack grins, “He did a decent job of it but I had my suspicions by the end.” “Well I wasn’t really trying to hide the fact, but you know how that man gets.” Later on when the ingredients are delivered and Bitty is watching Jack try and fail to neatly devein the shrimp does Jack pop the question. “Did you want to adopt a kid?” Bitty splutters into his cup of wine, “Now?” Shrugging Jack replies, “Yeah now. Well not right this moment obviously it’s a process but, yeah. Now.” Nearly out of seat Bitty gushes, “Yes let's have a kid now! We’ve waited long enough haven't we?” The food is done in fifteen minutes, and they're both on the couch forgoing the dining room for the night. Bitty is profuse with the compliments towards Jack’s cooking, moaning with every bite.   “If I had known we had a secret chef in the house I would have let you cook dinner more often!” “Are you actually admitting that you weren’t letting me cook on purpose this whole time?” Instead of replying Bitty shoves a mouthful of pasta in his mouth. Jack fakes being wounded in the chest but they’re both giggling. After the dishes are done they both hunch over Bitty’s laptop looking up the process on how to adopt a child in Rhode Island. At this moment he’s warm and happy, he finally cooked his husband an actual dinner served with fancy wine and all. He'd never thought back when he was teen that he would be here now. Out in the NHL married to another man looking up forms for adoption. It was a thorny path he followed to get here but he wouldn’t change it for the world.