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weeb-writor · 3 years

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Bittersweet Arguments

Heyo! Today I have a Cove x Reader! He is from a visual novel called Our Life: Beginning and always. Its available on Steam and itch.io for free! But I do encourage you all to get the dlc is it is more than worth it. It is inclusive of all race, sexual orientation and pronouns/gender. Also all the characters are just amazing and loveable. I could go on and on about this game but let me shut up so you all can read^^

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Cove Holden x GN!Reader

You and cove get into a bad argument and picking up the pieces is hard.

Word Count: 2.4k(not beta read)

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“Cove hasn't talked to you…yeah I’m just worried, they haven't gone more than a week without speaking since they met. They’re going on week 3 soon… yeah I know… yeah… alright I let you know what I can find out.” Ma said, hanging up with a sigh. You rounded the corner glancing at her as you plopped down on the sofa.

“We're not 8 any more, you don't have to call Cliff anytime we get in a fight.” you said with a chuckle.

“Honey, that's the thing, you and cove have never fought. We called about Lizzie plenty of times but you… it's just parents being parents. We're just worried.” She said stroking your hair. You grasped her hand and gave it a squeeze before you got up.

“Don’t be.” You said as you went up to your room. Well you were packing so really it was just a room with a bed. You plopped down face first into it. You just laid there mind racing a mile a minute. The fight, the disagreements, the tears played over and over again. It was simple at first and then it wasn't. Then it was yelling, arms flailing, and angry tears. What would happen next? It was a fear you thought that was already put to rest but it came again, and again, and again. Each time it was more and more muddled. What would happen to you both? How would long distance work? Were you supposed to tell your parents about your engagement? Who would come visit who? How often? No matter what question it was, the answer always resulted in more questions.

To you it was like Cove didn't trust you, like he didn't believe you loved him enough to do anything to make it work. For Cove you were… well you don't know. He was silent about the issue of the future. It was like you were discussing it with yourself as if there isn't another person in the relationship. It was frustrating, it made you angry at him and at yourself for being angry at him. You grabbed your pillow which had become a bucket for your tears and you cried and screamed into it. Over time your tears and screams died down and you drifted into not a peaceful sleep but a painful one. When you woke up you stumbled down stairs in a trance and nearly rounded the corner before you heard it. You stopped in your tracks immediately and sunk to the floor. It was him, your love, the neighborhood boy, Cove Holden.

“How are they?” He spoke quietly.

“I can't lie to you and say they're fine but they are resting right now.” Mom said with a sigh.

“Tha… T-That’s fine but what about eating, drinking, packing, and leaving the house?” He stuttered nervously. You wanted to laugh. It was so Cove to still be nervous talking to someone he knew essentially his whole life.

“Yes, of course. We’ve made sure, nothing to worry about.” At that you heard a sigh of relief come from the green haired boy.

“Okay, okay good. Um could you just let me know if they need anything.” His voice was shaky like he wanted to cry.

“They need you, kid.” Your mom said slowly. There was a long silence at this. Was it actually long or were you just anxious you weren’t sure.

“...I need them more.” He said in a barely intelligible whisper. Goodbyes were said and stayed on the floor even as you heard mom coming your way. When she was in your sight her eyes widened but more in worry than surprised. You tilted your head at her and that’s when you felt it. Tears were cascading from your eyes. You wiped them away in surprise and rose to your feet.

“Im fine.” You said before jogging to your room where you curled into a ball as if to shield you from the impending doom. From this position you watched the sunset and the moon rise, almost unblinking. You felt tears soak your pillow, you had begun crying without realizing again.

This couldn't go on, you had to talk to Cove.

Muscle memory had kicked in from the one time you had snuck into Cove’s room and boom. You were sitting on his bedside stroking his hair as he slept. Just like you it seemed his sleep was anything but peaceful. His brow was creased and you couldn’t help but thumb along it prompting him to wake up. His eyes shot open and he blinked a while before he sighed.

“Are you gonna be a dream or a nightmare.” he said softly.

“I'm in your nightmares?” You said glancing to the side. At this he shot up. Tears pulled in his eyes as he held his hand out to you. As soon as his fingers brushed your face he let out a quiet sob.

“So dream or nightmare then?” You said with watery eyes.

“An absolute dream.” He said with a firmness in him that was rare.

“Cove I don't want to talk about it right now, can we sleep...together.”

“Yes!” he shouted quietly, immediately making space for you under his blankets. You moved with equal amount of eagerness and soon for the first time in a while you felt truly at peace.

“Can...can I hold you.” You didn't say anything to his request, just moved closer and grabbed onto his nightshirt. Instantly you both fall into a deep peaceful sleep.

“Hey kid, I wanna talk…” Cliff trailed off awkwardly as he locked eyes with you. Cove was fast asleep, head in your lap and arms squeezing you. You smiled and put your finger to your lips. Cliff got the signal and walked out with a smile. Cove slept for 30 minutes more before his icy blue eyes met yours.

“Uh, wanna eat? I got all the ingredients for…” he didn’t need to finish the red flush of his face said enough. He was eating your favorite and you were eating his. You let off a quiet laugh.

“I’m feeling more peanut butter, honey, and banana sandwiches. Maybe some fruit.” You smiled down at him. His eyes lit up and you were dragged into the kitchen and now you both were about done making the sandwiches.

“What are you glaring at my sandwiches for?” You jokingly accused him.

“There isn’t enough honey on it, honey.” He said poking your forehead. You laughed and he laughed and then you both went to sit at the table. Mr. Holden was there too and made moves to get up but was stopped by the both of you shouting no. Awkwardly he sat back down.

“So, how’s packing coming? Coves been putting it off, so much.” He asked you gently.

“I’m pretty much done! Nothing in my room but a bed now.” You said with a smile.

“That’s great, still planning on leaving for college?” He asked with caution.

“Yeah, that’s the plan. I’m going to miss having you around.” You said with a small smile. The impromptu breakfast was over soon after this and you were left alone with cove again. Questions about the future loomed over you and this time you were going to get answers.

“Can... we talk?” You said staring at him with determination.

“Yes..” he trailed off

“No Cove, can we really talk? Like talk things out, like argue and come to a consensus.”

“Yes but I just don’t... want us to fight” he said playing with his hands.

“Arguments are normal cove, hell they’re healthy even. The unhealthy part is what you do during the argument and what you do after. Of course, we could try just talking first.” You smiled at him hoping to ease his nervousness.

“So you mean to say storming off to your son's room and pacing isn't a healthy way of closing an argument?” He said with a joking tone.

“Well if we ever get to the talk about the future, maybe one day you could see just how healthy it is…” You trailed off looking at him hopefully. Cove let out one of his cute squeaks as he flushed red. He raked his fingers through his hair before he grabbed your hand and pulled you to the sofa.

“Let's… talk then.” he said, glancing at you and then away.

“Alright, Cove, I'm going far away. What you are asking to do is impractical, I'm asking you not to do it.” You said seriously.

“It's 36 hours by car on the fastest route and 3 hours and 29 minutes by plane, it's not impractical, it's totally possible.” He said with unusually fierce eyes.

“Sure but you want to do it every two weeks, twice a month! It's not safe for you to drive that long. Think of the money it’ll cost to fly or put gas in your car. Also you'll have your own bills now, your own place. It's not all that possible.” You spoke firmly.

“Doesn't matter… i'll make it possible and safe. If I need to, I'll stay with my dad for a while. Moving out isn’t that big of a deal” He said not backing down

“No Cove, do you hear yourself? You’ve wanted to move out and be in your own place for a while. What happened to the boy who wanted to do everything the way he wanted without listening to set rules or a predetermined plan?”

“This isn't someone's predetermined plan for me, it's what I want.”

“What about what I want?” you said softly

“Is what you want… not to be around me? Or am I too.. too clingy for you? Cause if so I promise I won't intrude too much.. And I’ll give you space-”

“No! Its nothing like that! You are never gonna be too clingy for me, you could get clinger if you wanted. I just want you to be safe, okay?” You said cutting that thought off immediately

“I promise I will be then.” He said hesitantly.

“Baby, the whole action of it isn't safe physically or financially for either of us right now. I'm not saying you can't come but what about once every month or even better ill come back here every break I have. They aren't frequent but I'd be with you for a while.”

“It's not enough!” He said, raising his voice at you. It's the first time he’d ever done it but you didn't respond, you just blinked at him and waited for him to continue.

“I need to see you more than that.. I just have to.” He said, looking away from you.

“Why? We’ve spent weeks apart before. Every summer you leave and we come out of it fine, it's the same.”

“No its not the same, at all.” He spoke firmly as his eyes got misty but he pressed on. “When I went with my mom I knew where you were, what you were most likely doing. It was routine, sunset bird is our place. Even if something new comes along I'm never out of the loop… but when you leave you’ll be in a new place with different people and new things you can experience. You’ll be in a place with all four seasons, they get snow! I won't know what you're doing any more and we might not even be on the same wavelength any more. You’ll make new friends and meet people who won't be afraid to lay in bed with you or stutter a lot or make weird noises. You’ll be changing and I’ll still be the same 8 year old cry baby you met on the poppy hill… you’ll leave and then you’ll disappear.” He said scrubbing at his tears. You stared at him before you started to laugh. You laughed so hard you started to cry.

“Let me get this straight, you want to come visit me so often because you're afraid I'll become this social butterfly and find better people than you, Miranda, and Terri? Me?” You were overcome with laughter again and paused to catch your breath. “I’m overly honest, pushy, a little demanding, and have “strange” interests. When have you ever known me to be easy to make friends with or be sociable with any other than you? You know I knew I was gonna marry you from the moment I laid eyes on you at the ripe age of 8? I wish some dumb college kid would try to change my plans i’d kill them… nothing is gonna take me away from you and I will always come home. Home, cove holden, is wherever you are.” Cove was hugging you in a second crying into your neck.

“I quite like your squeaks and weird noises by the way.” You could feel his face heat up in your neck as he laughed.

“Every break?”

“Every break longer than 2 days.”

“At my place… the whole time?”

“Duh I said I was going home.”

“Alright then, we agree. I want to come spend a break with you though, want to see your place.” He said squeezing you tighter.

“Of course… Also one last thing we need to put to bed.” Cove let out a groan at your words.

“Nothing bad at all. Just this.” You reached into your back pocket and pulled out a black velvet box. You handed it to cove as his eyes watered again.

“I know I already proposed but I wanted to get you something regardless. Its also so all these single people keep their grubby little paws off my love.” He blushed at you and whispered your name the way he always did when he was feeling embarrassed or overwhelmed. He opened it as tears fell down his face.

“Theres two?”

“Yeah look at the inside of the bands.” Each one was engraved with your respective nicknames for each other.

“Were engaged we minus well look the part. This way everybody at my college knows I managed to lockdown the most amazing guy to ever grace sunset bird.” You said kissing his nose. He wasted no time putting his on and handing you yours.

“I love you.” He said, eyes no longer misty.

“I love you so much, Cove.” You echoed his sentiment.

“Wanna go to our hill, we have a lot to make up for. I’ve missed you so much.” He said, grabbing your hand. You nodded and you both turned to leave. You both quickly made eye contact with Clifford Holden who was misty eyed. You gathered he had been there for a while.

“Sho...Should I pretend i didn't just see or hear that as well?” He said his hand on his neck.

#cove holden #our life: beginnings & always #cove #cove holden x reader

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oldguardhc · 3 years

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Old Guard hc #101

Summary: Part 2 of the Decennial Awards (Part 1)

“Our next category is the Weirdest Sleeping Spot! As the title suggests, this category is based on the weirdest spot one has been caught sleeping.” Joe turns on the TV behind him and starts the slideshow of them all snoozing in various spots and positions. “We require plenty of rest to remain youthful. This, unfortunately, means we have to catch our Z’s in some unconventional places.”

“When did you take all these pictures?” Booker asks, leaning forward on the couch. Joe glances back and sees a picture of Booker asleep on top of a fridge. The man wasn’t even curled up on top like one would assume. No, he was half-draped over the top, head and arms hanging on the other side, looking as close to dead one can be while still alive. He looked like a poor Halloween decoration. “I don’t even remember that.”

“That’s because you’re senile,” Joe retorts and immediately wishes he can take it back. Three unimpressed faces stare back at him from the couches and Joe knows that this is going to be counted against him. Dammit. He wants to win the best host at the end of the century. Joe plasters on a winning smile. “I apologize; that comment should have been saved for after the show. All of the pictures were taken some time in the last 10 years; anything before was disqualified. Now, our first nominee, Nicolò, fell asleep in-“

Booker stands up and turns around to look at Andy and Nicky. He gestures wildly at them, some of his drink sloshing onto the floor and all over his hand. Booker slurps up what he can on his hand before saying, “Are we not going to talk about how Joe’s been taking pictures of us sleeping? For more than a decade?”

Andy lobs a peanut at him. “Sit down!” Booker catches the peanut and pops it into his mouth. For a second, Joe hopes he chokes on it.

When it’s clear that he will not, Joe says, “No, we are not. Please take a seat, sir.”

Booker whirls around, spilling more of his drink. “This is an invasion of privacy!”

“You were in a public area.”

“Technically-“

“If you have to start with technically, you’re wrong,” Joe sighs, motioning to the couch more insistently. He feels like he has just finished 8 hours of customer support and was told by his manager to cover for the coworker they’re currently sleeping with. Andy snags the back of Booker’s pants and whatever was left in Booker’s cup is now sitting on the carpet. Wonderful. “As I was saying, Nicolò, over here, fell asleep on a crane that was on top of a 500m building. He had a couple of hours to kill until his target arrived and rather than playing on his phone like any other sane person, he decided to take a nap.” Everyone turns to look at Nicky.

“I still don’t see the issue here. I even set an alarm for an hour before the scheduled arrival,” Nicky says and Andy squints at him.

“The construction workers were using the crane. It was literally spinning the entire day,” Booker says and Joe nods. Some carousels spin less than that crane.

“You cost me 500 euros,” Andy adds with a scowl. “It was supposed to be an easy win. You puked after the teacups.”

Nicky gapes at her. “That doesn’t count! Booker made me eat 5 bananas and drink 2 cans of sprite!”

“It was a projectile. You could calculate the angle of it.” You could. It was absolutely disgusting. Joe had made sure to slip the janitor an extra hundred as he tended to his violently sick husband.

Knowing that this will lead to a full-blown argument, Joe quickly interjects, “Now Sebastien, he fell asleep in the trunk of the wrong car and ended up giving a poor old lady quite the scare. Later, I would like to discuss Sebastien’s concerning taste for younger women.”

“Yeah, she was less than half your age. That’s gross, Book,” Andy teases.

“Preying on the young and vulnerable?” Nicky tuts. “Where're your morals?”

“Fuck you guys,” Booker groans.

“I like older men,” Nicky says. “Thank you, though.”

With a smirk, Joe continues. “Next is Andromache, who fell asleep on top of a moving train and managed to stay on it the entire duration of her nap. In fact, she did not even sway an inch; not even when the train was climbing the side of a mountain.”

“Less stuffy up there,” Andy says, taking a sip of her drink.

“I believe you.”

“Plenty of space.”

“No one’s going to join you, Andy,” Booker groans, leaning back on the couch. “It’s fucking cold up there.”

Nicky tilts his head, eyebrows furrowing. “That’s-,” Joe shares a look of incredulity with his husband and slowly shakes his head. It’s probably best that they leave this one alone for a couple of centuries.

“For our last nominee, Yusuf managed to find a yak and fall asleep on its back.”

“You conveniently left out the part where it woke up startled and kicked you 20 feet away.”

Joe gives him a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you, Sebastien. As always, your contribution is entirely unwanted.” Joe pulls the second envelope out. “Now for our winner,” he opens it and snorts as he reads the card. “Sebastien! Congratulations! You won this decade’s weirdest sleeping spot.”

Booker slowly gets off the couch, like he expects Joe to say ‘Psych!’ and call out somebody else’s name. Andy decides he’s moving too slow and slaps him on the ass.

“Here you go,” Joe hands him the prize when he’s a foot away and Booker frowns.

“A sleeping mask from Delta Airlines?” It’s folded in half and barely thicker than a paper towel.

“To make your sleep more pleasurable.”

“There’s a better one in the bathroom upstairs.”

“Don’t be ungrateful, it’s rude.” Did no one teach their kids manners these days? “What do you have to say?”

Booker shrugs and rubs the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, Margaret. Both cars were extremely similar.” It’s not a bad apology. Joe has definitely heard worse.

“One was a minivan, the other was a hummer, you dumbass!” Andy heckles. Sadly, she’s not lying.

“Looks the same when you’re drunk and have your eyes 90% closed.”

“Alright, thank you, Sebastien,” Joe nudges him back to his seat. “Continuing with the weirdest theme, our next category is Weirdest Death.”

Andy and Nicky groan, Booker smirks.

“Just give it to Booker already,” Andy says. “Fucker always dies in the weirdest manners.”

“He’s won every single time since he joined us,” Nicky adds, waving a dismissive hand. “Give him his prize and let him do his speech.”

“So you guys can count me off later? No way!” Joe’s not a fool. This is their test. “Unlike our previous categories, this nominee will cover both Nicolò and Yusuf. Our dearest Nicolò and Yusuf were having a lovely picnic in the middle of the safari. They were enjoying a nice Pinot Noir with some young cantal cheese when they were rudely trampled by a stampede of elephants. ”

“Picnic,” Joe really wants to wipe that stupid smirk off of Booker’s face. Nicky, his dearest heart, reaches over to smack the bane of Joe’s existence over the back of his head. It’s a satisfying thunk too. “Ow! I only have one brain, Nicky, Jesus!”

“More like one brain cell,” Nicky responds. Joe almost bends down onto one knee right there.

No. He has a plan. He’s not going to ruin it because he’s too impatient.

Joe gestures to Andy, “Andromache, was taking a stroll in one of Colorado’s mountains when she accidentally walked into a cult’s trap. After being shot with an elephant tranquilizer, she woke up tied to a tree and was shot with a special marijuana filled bullet as a sacrifice to their Marijuana god.”

“Bullets filled with marijuana,” Booker says, impressed. “If I weren't here, that’d surely be the winner.”

“I know,” Andy grumbles, taking an angry swig of her drink.

“For our reigning titleholder, Sebastien continued to drink an excessive amount of soda, despite everyone telling him that there were not going to be any bathrooms for another hour. Our stubborn Sebastien, of course, ignored us and after drinking 64oz of Pepsi, he had to pee. So in the pouring rain, Andy pulled over. Sebastien sprinted to the treeline and as he began to relieve himself, Zeus struck our poor nominee. He died in his puddle of pee.”

Nicky shakes his head, looking at Booker with a little bit of awe. “How do these things keep on happening to you?”

“The comedic gods really like me.” Something out there really likes him, that’s for sure.

Joe pulls out the correct envelope and is completely unsurprised with what he reads. “Our winner is, of course, Sebastien! Congratulations!” Joe picks up the prize and holds it out; Booker takes it with a grin.

“A voodoo doll of myself?” The doll has a denim jacket and the same haircut Booker has been sporting for the last six years. Booker pokes the doll’s eyes and squishes its plump body. “I’m keeping this.”

“And not the other prizes?”

“This one is custom made; it gets custom treatment.” He has a point. “As for my speech, I would like to thank myself, the greatest and worst person to exist.”

Joe shares another look with his husband. Andy, on the other hand, says, “The prize should’ve been therapy.”

“Okay,” Joe says after an awkward moment of silence. “Thank you for your speech; please return to your seat so we can continue.”

#the old guard #joe x nicky #sebastien le livre #andromache the scythian #tog crack #hc #i'm thinking 3 more parts?#since there's 6 more categories

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sevlgi · 4 years

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patient

requested: yes

group: mamamoo

pairing: hwasa x fem!reader

genre: fluff

contents: tattoo artist!hwasa, flustered!reader [15/33]

warnings: none

synopsis: It’s hard for you to be patient about your next tattoo session when your artist is so damn gorgeous.

a/n: um??? I love tattoo aus???? also don’t come at me for the name, I’m not creative

word count: 1.9k

“Elegant Chaos.”

You test the name out on your tongue, staring up at the slightly grimy neon sign of the shop. The entire front is one-way glass, so all you can see is your own reflection and the ones of the people bustling around you.

Before you can make up a decision to open the door to the store or not, someone else does; a pretty brunette woman steps out and smiles at you, crazy beautiful with full lips and crescent-eyes. “Hi. Can I help you?”

“Uh, yeah.” You show her the printed-out address your friend sent you and step a bit closer. “Is this a tattoo shop? I searched the address up but nothing resulted, I was referred by a friend.”

She barely takes a glance at the address before flashing another bright grin. “Oh, yep! This is our tattoo shop, we opened a couple months ago. It’s weird that we’re still not showing up, but oh, well. Want to come in?”

You barely register her quick words but step into the shop after her, the smell of rubbing alcohol, paper, and perfume vaguely stinging your nose. “I’m Solar, the receptionist,” she introduces, walking behind what you presume to be her desk. Out front, some teenagers talk quietly, a tall, dark-haired boy with a sleeve sipping at a banana milk.

“Cool. Uh, I’m Y/N. I don’t have an appointment, is that okay?”

Solar nods, tapping at her phone. “Sure. Jungkook over there is just waiting for Byul to finish her other client, and Wheein is prepping to pierce the kids. Hwasa’s our best artist, anyway, does that sound good?”

Her question startles you from staring at the intricate sketches taped all over the walls, the same 3 signatures stamped everywhere. “What?”

She laughs, though it’s not rude. “We have one artist left, Hwasa, but since you’re referred, you probably don’t have someone in mind, right? You can go to see her now, she’s free.”

“Great. Do I just...?” At Solar’s nod, you walk past her and into the back. The studio’s quite small, to be honest; there are 4 stations, two of them occupied. One of them, who you guess is Byul, is tattooing an elderly man, her sleeves rolled up to reveal the art on her bicep.

The second, probably Wheein, is wiping down her tools, and she’s the first to notice you. “Hi!” she grins, turning the music blasting from the radio down with her ungloved hand. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah. Solar mentioned that I should come find Hwasa,” you explain, eyes widening at the complicated art being tattooed on the elderly man. “Are you...?”

“No, I’m Wheein.” Ah, so you were right. “This is Byul, she’s a bit preoccupied,” Wheein smiles, dimples poking into her cheeks. “I’ll get Hye- sorry, Hwasa for you.”

She hurries out to the back, and you can hear talking through the open door, before she comes back, the woman you presume to be Hwasa behind her.

Instantly, you’re starstruck; she’s stunning in a way that’s completely unique, long dark hair and tanned skin contrasting beautifully. The only makeup she wears is a bold red lipstick, her tank top showing the delicate tattoos she has. “Hey, I’m Hwasa,” she greets, sticking her hand out. Her nails are long, too.

“Y/N.” You accept the handshake, trying not to stare. “Uh, Solar said you were free for a consultation?”

“Yeah.” She sits at one of the free stations, clearing the things scattered on the table. “So, what’re you looking for? Do you already have a design chosen or am I freehanding?”

You fumble in your bag for a piece of paper, sliding it over to Hwasa. “Um, this is just something my friend drew up for me. I want it pretty small, on my forearm.”

The dark-haired woman shrugs, unfolding the paper. “I could do that. Is this your first tattoo?”

Nodding, you watch as Hwasa taps her long, red-painted nails on the desk. “Okay. Is this part of a sleeve or by itself?”

“Uh, how long would each one take?” To be honest, you have no idea why you said that; you didn’t consider a sleeve at all, though you considered multiple tattoos or a large one. There’s just something about the other woman that makes it impossible for you to think.

She considers the question before answering, “Depends on the size and how many small ones you want to work in for the sleeve, but I’d recommend a separate session for each small square, so maybe 8 or 10. I’ll be done with this in less than 30 minutes, though, if it’s just the one.”

To be honest, the only thing causing you to consider a sleeve is getting to see Hwasa again, and you curse your own attraction to her when you blurt, “Maybe a sleeve? I have to think about the other ones I want to work in, though.”

“Okay. I can just do the one today, and we can schedule another day for you to come in and design the whole thing,” she offers, picking the sketch up. “I’ll go make this into a stencil, then.”

“Sure.”

When she takes the sketch and walks to the back room, you slump down in the chair and pivot to look at the others. You quickly realize how long you were talking with Hwasa; Byul is already working on the coconut-haired boy, and Wheein is already done with the teenagers.

She seems to be the outgoing type, and waves at you while sanitizing her needles and packing her kit up again. “So, how did it go? Are you going to start today?”

“I am, yep. You’re already done with the kids?”

Wheein nods, placing the studs back into their cases. “Yep. They just wanted more lobe piercings, it’s really easy. I’m a tattoo artist, too, but I think the kids like me more. Except for Jungkook over here, they think Byul’s intimidating.”

“I’m not!” the other woman protests, hands still steady as she works on the boy. Her voice is deeper than you’d expect. “You literally call me a hamster.”

Flapping a hand, Wheein flashes you her dimples again. “So, what do you think of Hwasa?”

“Huh?” you blink, brain basically short-circuiting. “Uh, she’s a good artist? I saw some of her sketches, yours too; you’re all really talented.”

“No, no, that’s not what I mean. Wait, you’re not straight, are you?” she narrows her eyes at you, scanning you from head to toe. “Maybe my sense is broken, I didn’t peg you for a...”

“I’m not. Straight. I’m a lesbian.” Your cheeks burn to say it aloud, though nobody really reacts, not even Jungkook. “Are you?”

Wheein shrugs, “I mean, I’m attracted to women. All 4 of us are- Hyejin, Byul, Yongsun. Solar, to you. And we make sure everyone who comes in is accepting, we won’t serve bigots.”

For whatever reason, you’re almost relieved to hear that Hwasa’s also attracted to women in some sense, even though it doesn’t necessarily mean that she’s attracted to you. “Oh. That’s cool.”

“Yeah. So, is it just one tattoo or a sleeve?” Her knowing smile puts you off a bit; how did she figure it out? “A lot of girls who come in here change their original idea because of Hyejin-ah. You’re obviously attracted to her, to, so it’s no surprise.”

“Is it really that obvious?” you groan, surprising yourself with how open you’re being about it. “Do you think she knows?”

“Probably,” Wheein giggles, nodding when Solar pokes her head in the studio to tell her something. “Anyway. I’ve got to go, good luck!”

She waves as she leaves, the only noise left in the studio being the quiet music and Jungkook’s quiet talking. He seems just as awkward as you are, lifting his free hand in a half wave.

You’re saved by Hwasa returning with a stencil. “Here. Does that look good?”

She’s modified the original design just the tiniest bit, making the lines a little bit darker and the shading simpler, and it looks... “Perfect.” You grin, a weight on your chest lifted by your conversation with Wheein. “Should we start?”

“Sure.” She brings you over to one of the actual tattoo stations, the seat already smelling sanitized. You can barely listen as she explains what the process will be like- cleaning, the actual tattooing, pain; you finally come to when she asks, “Are you ready?”

“I... yeah. I am.”

It’s quiet until the buzzing of the tattoo gun brings you to life, the tiniest bit of fear sour on your tongue. Hwasa looks concentrated as she peels the stencil off, not exactly reassuring, either. “So. Is there a meaning behind this?”

“Uh, not really. Are there meanings behind yours?” You gasp when the needle first touches your skin, the cold wipe taking off excess ink.

“I have some matching tattoos with Wheein,” Hwasa explains, smiling at the mention of the other girl. “Uh, one is Maria, my Christian name. Wheein has more, but all of us have some kind of meaning behind ours. It’s not bad to have no meaning, though.”

You wince as she continues with the linework, slowly getting used to the pain. “Are you and Wheein...”

She looks up, raising an eyebrow. “Together? No, we’re best friends. I haven’t been with someone in a few years.”

“What’s stopping you?”

Hwasa laughs, wiping your arm once again. “Nothing, I guess. I’m just patient enough to wait for the right person.”

“Patient. Right.”

Conversation flows smoothly, mostly light topics. You learn each other’s ages, and you’re told to call Hwasa ‘Hyejin’ instead. You learn when she got her first tattoo, and when she learned to tattoo others. The more you talk, the more drawn in you are, fascinated by her every word.

The half an hour is over far too fast. “Done,” she announces, smiling as she turns off her gun. “Take a look.”

It looks gorgeous, as expected, though Hwasa plays off your barrage of compliments. “Uh, should I pay now?”

She shrugs, placing saran wrap over your arm. “We’ll go talk with Solar about that, she’s better with pricing than I am. But it probably won’t be much.”

“What? Why?” you frown, examining the tattoo. Usually, discounts only happen when something goes wrong, or you have a coupon. You’re pretty sure neither of those things apply.

Hwasa pauses, turning to send you a small smirk. “Well, the cute ones usually pay less.”

Your heart practically stops, though you force yourself to walk to the front with her. “Besides, you’re probably coming back again soon, right?”

“Oh! Uh, yeah. I think so. When will that be? The next session, I mean.”

She frowns, tapping at the tablet Solar hands her. “You can come in as soon as you’re free to design it, if you want, but you have to wait a bit for the next session, especially if you’re doing the things close together. If you want, I can give you my number.”

At your stricken expression, Hwasa’s lips curve into a knowing smile. “So you can send me ideas, for the sleeve.”

“Ah, of course.” Your cheeks burn as you take out your cash, counting out a surprisingly small amount. “That sounds good. I guess I’ll just have to be patient, then.”

“I guess so. Call me, Y/N,” she smiles, handing your phone back with a new contact in.

Being patient is going to be so damn hard.

113 notes · View notes

leafs-lover · 3 years

Text

Because Two People Got Drunk: 38

Chapter 38

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Swearing, smut; I think that’s it?

Word Count: 3200

“Your mom can never leave" you mumble as Fred crawls up behind you, wrapping his arm around you. The clock reads 9:15, and every day since Charlotte arrived she has let you sleep in. Fred asked her to come to help you with the playoffs starting. Your due date is still weeks away but he worries about something happening while he is at the rink or on road games.

You hear him chuckle slightly as his hand gently roams over your stomach “I’m sure she’d be fine with that, she’s loving being around the boys.” He gently presses kisses into your shoulder as the two of you lie in bed basking in the last few minutes of quiet.

“We need to go" you mumble as you feel him shift closer, his dick pressing between your ass cheeks.

“Why?” he shifts onto his forearm and begins gently sucking on your neck.

“Because you have practice at 11, and if we don’t get up now you won’t be able to eat and get ready in time. And breakfast smells ah-mazing” you moan as he nips along your shoulder.

“I don’t smell anything" he mumbles pressing you so your back is on the mattress. His hand trails up your stomach stopping on one of your breasts.

“Trust me and my pregnancy nose" you groan as he begins massaging your breast in his large hand.

“Babe" you gasp when he gently bites your collarbone. “I’m hungry.”

“Babies not even here and already blocking me" he smiles pulling away and off you. You laugh remembering after the twins came home from the hospital, and were still sleeping in their bassinets in your room. Every time you and Fred would try anything, even if it was just kissing one of the twins would cry. Every single time.

“Let’s get you some food mama" he says pulling you out of bed.

Once downstairs you see Oliver sitting at the table and the twins are on the floor while Charlotte makes breakfast. While pouring your morning coffees Fred walks over to the twins.

“Dadda" Noah calls reaching out for Fred to pick him up.

“Did he just talk?” you ask setting the pot down. The past few weeks the twins have become more vocal, babbling out sounds. You had a feeling they would likely start talking soon; it was just a matter of time.

“Oh he sure did" Fred cheers throwing him up in the air lightly before resting him on his hip “he sure did.”

You walk over and kiss his forehead “I really wanted it to be momma” you whine with a smile on your face.

“Maybe it’ll be Luke’s he smirks kissing Noah’s head again, though you aren’t sure. You walked in on Fred sitting on the floor with the twins a few days ago repeating “dadda” trying to get them to say it back. It appears his work paid off.

“Babe we still have time to do this" you smile leaning against the door frame to the nursery later that night. Fred is sitting on the floor with all the crib pieces laid out in front of him, holding the instructions. You can see the confused look as he compares two different pieces, trying to figure out what one is correct.

“The twins came early, Ollie came early. I have a feeling this one will too" he responds not looking up to you. “Still a bit to do. Need the change table and dresser, swap the curtains” he trails off looking at the instructions.

You walk in further and place a soft kiss on his forehead before sitting on the chair currently placed by the closet to allow Fred the space to build. Scanning around the room; while still a long ways from being completed; you are happy to see the room slowly taking shape.

Fred grabs the second fork “ready” he raises his eyebrow at you “close your eyes.”

You give him a sideways glance “they told me the flavours are better when faint. That they can become overpowering, so they also recommended dying the icing” he explains. “But let’s see if we can tell from the taste first.”

“Okay” you say closing your eyes “ready.”

“Okay” he says and you hear his fork scrap along the glass. Reaching out you grab some and you both bring it to your mouths; immediately you know what it is setting the plate down. Before you have even swallowed Fred’s lips are on yours, smushing some icing into yours.

“I really thought it would be a girl” he laughs as your eyes flick to find his deep brown orbs.

“Really? I didn’t” you wipe some cake off his cheek.

“I just didn’t think I’d go 4/4 on the boys” his lips gently press back against yours.

“I mean we’re pretty good at raising boys” you laugh “have three of them. Besides she would instantly become your favourite girl, I don’t know if I want to be your number two.”

“Yeah that would be hard for you” he laughs. “Being my number one girl for so long only to have to give it up. Me on the other hand I never had that honour. Your number one boy was never reserved for me. First it was Ollie’s, and soon it will be a four way tie and I’ll be the 5th most important man in your life.”

“If it makes you feel better it’s a close fifth, you barely miss the cut.” He doesn’t respond instead smirks and gently presses another kiss to your lips.

“I love you” he mumbles sliding his hand up your oversized shirt, finding the hem of your shorts. His fingers dance along the hem, playing with it before hooking his fingers under it to pull them down your body.

“I love you too” you moan pulling your head away slightly. He gently spreads your legs open as his index fingers ghosts back up the skin ever so lightly. Goosebumps erupt on your skin along the trail he touches. Your hands find his bare shoulders and slide over his broad muscles. He places open mouth kisses on your neck as your legs squirm slightly under him. His feather light touch continues trailing further up your legs as they fall open for him.

He slowly crawls down your body, lifting your t-shirt above your bump. He begins peppering kisses all over your stomach as you pull your last article of clothing off your body. Your nipple hardens as his hand begins to gently massage it.

“Mmm Fred” you moan as you fall back into the pillows, eyes closing.

Suddenly everything stops and you feel the mattress shift beside you. Your eyes snap open looking to your left to see Fred on his back. He is resting on the pillows near the headboard, his bulge very obvious in his boxers.

“Come here" he beckons you over.

Straddling him you roll your hips against him. His clothed member presses into your wet folds as you moan out.

“Up here baby" he mumbles grabbing your hands. He has a large smirk as he pulls you up his body until you are hovering above his mouth. You feel his warm exhale on your folds sending a tingling down your spine directly to your core.

His hands stroke over your legs before firmly gripping your hips to pull you down. His beard rubs against your thighs as his lips connect to yours.

Curse words fall from you as his tongue strokes up your folds. He licks your juices, moaning as he tastes your slick heat.

“Fuck you taste so good" he praises as his mouth attaches to your folds and he begins to suck. You try to pull away but his rough grip tightens locking you onto his face.

“Freddie" you moan bringing one hand to the wooden headboard and the other into his red locks. Your hands grasp at the roots tangling in causing him to groan under you.

You feel his tongue spread you apart and slide inside you. He curls it as it slides in further until his nose is firmly pressed into your clit. His tongue fucks in and out of you as his nose dives deeper causing a slew of curse words to fall from your lips. His strokes are soft and delicate, but you can feel your walls tensing around him.

Fred smirks from below you knowing you are getting close. His strong hands pull you closer, his beard rubbing against your thighs. Your legs begin to tremble as your hand bracing the headboard begins to slide. You feel the familiar coil in your stomach begin to tighten. Your walls begin to twitch and you take some deep breaths; you have been having a lot of sex since arriving two days ago and its beginning to be too much.

“Fred" you huffed pushing off of him with some force. His hands drop from your hips as you roll off of him.

“What babe?” he asks bringing a hand to your knee.

“I’m really sensitive” you groan “I don’t think I have two in me today.”

His face relaxes and a big grin spreads across it. “That’s fine babe” he smirks “hop back on, I want to finish.”

“If I do I don’t think I’ll be able to" your eyes drop to his tented boxers.

“I don’t care" he laughs trying to pull you back on top of him.

“But I want to" you nudge your head back towards his hard member with a devilish grin.

“Fine" he groans displeased though he has a smirk on his face.

Your hand palms over him a few times before slipping under the band. You feel some of his precum with your thumb and spread it around the tip. His eyes roll back into his head and you tug on him a few times.

His hands find his boxers and push them down his thighs, the sound of his hard member slapping against his stomach fills the room.

You continue to stroke over him a few times as he groans beside you. You try to shimmy down the bed, but Fred grips your other wrist.

He carefully pushes you onto your back crawling over you. You feel his member poke at your folds as you grip his chain pulling his face closer to yours.

Your lips meet, and next your tongue slides into his mouth. He tastes like you with a faint hint of banana. Simultaneously his member begins to slip inside your folds; swallowing your moans pressing in further. Finally he bottoms out and he pulls back slightly sucking on your bottom lip.

“You feel so good" he groans as your warmth welcomes him.

Your leg wraps around his waist and his head falls against your collar bone.

“God you feel so fucking good baby" he groans as his hips snap and he begins a slow and deep pace. Your nails find his shoulder and dig in to his warm skin.

“Fuck" he mumbles sinking his teeth into your collarbone.

He hits your cervix with every thrust, dragging his cock along your walls. Your back arches off the bed and you roll your hips onto him.

“I’m close babe" you mumble taking your nails down his back.

“Wait for me elskede" he whispers.

“I can’t” you groan as your breathing becomes erratic.

“Yes you can" he orders from above you.

All you manage is a whine as he increases his pace, chasing his own release. Your eyes snap shut trying to stop yourself from tumbling over the ledge.

Thrust after thrust your moans have become whimpers. You try to talk but strangled sounds are all you can manage.

You feel him stutter above you, but you can’t wait any longer. Your body trembles and you feel your walls clench around him. A slew of curse words spill from both of your lips as he works you through your high. One hand finds his hair as the other slides down his slick back, scratching along his muscles.

“Fuck” he groans into your neck.

After a few more thrusts you hear him grunt and his warmth floods your walls. He stills and his head falls onto your shoulder while your nails gently run through his hair.

“You’re the best boy mom" he mumbles pushing himself onto his elbows.

“Only because I have the best boys" you smile.

“Yeah but he won’t be in here for a while” you smile rubbing a hand over your stomach.

“I just want it to be ready for him. We thought we had time with the twins and then they came early. It was mayhem. We were busy going back and forth from the hospital for a few weeks and when they came home their room wasn’t even painted. We were so tired and the nursery wasn’t ready for them.”

“Mhm and then we hired someone and they painted and built the furniture and they were in it three days later" you explain.

“I said I was going to do it (Y/N), so I’m going to do it" he says dismissively tightening an allen key.

“If you didn’t wait until you were 32 weeks pregnant to pick everything out I would have had this done before the playoffs began” he groans.

You roll your eyes at that. You spent the weeks since the all-star break scouring Pinterest looking at design ideas, sending Fred screenshots. He gave his input and sent you his thought back, but planning the nursery was pushed to the back burner. You have been spending most of your time watching the boys and trying to finalize the wedding details before Charlotte came to Pittsburgh.

When you finally picked out the design Fred was just about to start the playoffs, but he still went out to the paint store and bought the supplies needed. He worked away at it throughout he first series, painting the room in portions due to the time required and the lack he had with hockey. But he still managed to get the room painted.

He told you he wanted to do this one himself. The only thing he didn’t want to do was change the light out of fear of messing up the electrical. Once he finished painting he brought someone in for a couple hours to do that work but now the rest is on him.

As much as you love watching him take the initiative to do this, his eagerness to get this complete tonight has you a little irritated because you would rather be doing something else. The twins are asleep and you can hear Charlotte and Ollie laughing downstairs at the movie they are watching.

“Do you have to do this tonight" you pout “I kind of had something else in mind.”

“Does he need a crib (Y/N)?” he picks up the instructions looking on the ground for something.

“Yes" you reply hearing him grumble about the allen key being lost.

“Then I’m building his crib. The playoffs can be crazy; I don’t have a game tonight or one to prepare for so I can do it now. If I wait who knows when I’ll get the chance” he says absentmindedly. You know he is right; the Penguins swept Philly in round one and are awaiting their next opponent, but once that starts his free time will be gone.

He is holding up two pieces trying to screw them together but before the threads catch the screw falls to the floor and you hear him grumble under his breath. You can tell his patience is wearing thin so you get up and waddle over to him struggling to sit down “babe what are you doing?” he asks watching you.

“You need help” you explain as he drops the pieces holding a hand out to help you down.

“Thanks” you sigh sitting beside him. You take the two pieces and hold them together while he begins to screw the pieces together. Fred is focussed on building the crib but your eyes get lost watching him. You pull your lip through your bottom lip and can feel wetness pooling in your core.

He constantly has to repeat instructions or tap your ankle to get your attention. Normally Fred would give in to your lingering glances but tonight he just reminds you that you have less than two months.

“Goodnight daddy” Oliver skips into the room wrapping his arms around Fred’s neck.

“Goodnight buddy” he pulls him in for a big hug giving him a kiss on the forehead taking his first break of the last hour.

“Night mommy” he says walking over to you. He gives you a hug before leaning down to give your belly a kiss “goodnight brother” he says patting your stomach a few times, his new habit.

“Oh goodnight baby” you say pulling him in to kiss his forehead.

“”Frederik! She is pregnant get her off that floor” Charlotte scolds stepping into the room.

“If I thought she would listen I would try” he calls out as the two of them head down the hall.

The crib is coming along, starting to take shape when you start to feel some pain in your lower back. You wince slightly and shift trying to get comfortable groaning slightly. A few choked moans get caught in your throat as you take a few deep sighs.

“You okay?” Fred asks seeing you. He drops the pieces in his hands, focussing solely on you. Every time you have any kind of pain or discomfort he immediately thinks you are going into pre-term labour, a risk due to your pregnancies being close together.

You bring your hand to your hip taking a deep breath, your eyes close trying to push the pain from your focus. Fred sets the pieces down and rises to his feet; he hooks his arms under your armpits helping you to your feet before scooping you up into his arms.

“I can walk” you say lightly bringing a hand to his hard chest. Fred only hums in response a light smirk on his face. He enjoys showing off his strength, always has. Before you got pregnant he would jokingly bench you or get you to climb on his back for push ups; something Oliver loves and has taken over since you are unable to at the moment.

He carries you down the hall and sets you in the bed resting on your side, placing your pregnancy pillow between your legs.

“Stay in bed” he places a soft kiss on your cheek sending heat down to your core “I’m almost done, I’ll be in soon.”

Before you can object you hear his soft tread heading towards the door and the sound of your door closing. You can hear Fred and his mom talking from the nursery, likely stepping in to help build the crib in your absence. You turn on your TV to a soft setting, finding some office reruns. You shift slightly getting comfortable while you wait for Fred to come to bed.

Next Chapter

#because two people got drunk fic #fredzilla #frederik andersen #Freddie Andersen #fred andersen #frederik andersen x reader #frederik andersen fic #frederik andersen smut #freddie andersen smut #freddie andersen x reader #freddie andersen fic #fred andersen smut #fred andersen x reader #Fred Andersen Fic

36 notes · View notes

lightsburnbrite · 3 years

Text

Things We Do for Love: Part 16/Final

Third Part to Such a Thrill and The Devils is in the Details

Leon yawned as he flung his arm over his eyes. The one thing he didn't like about their bedroom was how the morning sun readily filled the room as soon as it rose. Of course, this could be remedied by closing the drapes the night before but inevitably, one of them would forget to do it. He continued to lay there, even though he knew he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep when he realized that it was absolutely silent. Uncharacteristically silent.

He made his way to the bathroom before pulling on a pair of pajamas that he had been given for Christmas. Karina gently poked fun at him because he only slept in his underwear but would put the pajamas on once he got up. Counterintuitive, in her opinion.

As soon as he got to the kitchen, Leon realized why there were no signs of life yet. He could see through the open terrace door the very top of Karina's head peeking over one of the lounge chairs. Elsa and Ember were out there sunning themselves as well. Moving closer, he saw their daughter snuggled up on Karina's lap as they read a book. "Morning, girls."

"Papa!" She nearly shrieked with joy as she stood up on Karina's thighs and held her arms out.

Leon beamed at her as he lifted her up and gave her a kiss. "And how early were we up this morning, Miss Sofie?"

"Five." Karina yawned as she rubbed her eyes. "I think we can officially say goodbye to the crib."

"Sofie big girl." She made a thumbs down gesture before resting her head on her father's shoulder. Karina had taught Sofie a thumbs up and thumbs down gesture before she started speaking as a way to communicate her likes and dislikes but she continued to use it even as her vocabulary developed.

"Yes, you are." Leon kissed her again before looking over to Karina. "I would have gotten up with her."

"I was already awake." She shrugged as she sat up straighter.

Leon turned his attention back to Sofie. "Tell you what, we are going to go into the kitchen to make breakfast so Mama can go back to sleep, ok?"

Sofie gave a nod of approval as Karina mustered a smile at the two of them.

She trudged through the kitchen and found her way to their bathroom, opting to leave the light off, before sitting down on the floor next to the tub. Karina rested her head against her knees and sighed deeply before she gave in and let herself cry. She hadn't intended to do this since she knew either Leon or Sofie would come looking for her but she found she couldn't help herself.

"Mama!" Sofie's voice cut through the silence but gave Karina a half-second to get herself ready.

"Mama sad?" Sofie tottered over and put her hand on Karina's knee. "Booboo?"

Karina wiped her face and moved her legs into a criss-cross position so that Sofie could sit in her lap again. "Oh, no, sweetheart. Mama's ok."

Sofie wrapped her arms around Karina's neck and pressed her face against Karina's cheek in her own version of a kiss. "Better?"

"Of course." Karina tried to brighten her voice. "All better, thank you, Sofie."

"Hey, Maus?" She heard Leon approaching. "Breakfast is ready."

"Sof? Where did you leave Spoon?" His voice was soft, but Karina could already hear the concern. "Go get him ready for breakfast, ok?"

As Sofie clambered out of Karina's lap and went off in search of the wooden spoon she had commandeered as her inanimate friend, Leon held his hands out to help Karina up. As soon as she was on her feet, he squeezed her tightly. "What is it? I know your insomnia is back."

Karina sighed deeply and allowed herself to be embraced for a moment before moving back to the living room to make sure Sofie wasn't getting into anything. Leon followed and placed their food out before strapping Sofie into her highchair and giving her a slice of almond butter banana toast.

"My mother left me a voicemail last week." Karina finally spoke while Leon was pouring her a cup of coffee. He stopped and looked up at her but didn't say anything. "She said she'd like to see her granddaughter."

Leon started to speak, frowned and then stopped.

"I don't know how she knows." Karina pinched the bridge of her nose. "I almost feel like letting her visit would be easier."

Leon shook his head. "No. End of discussion."

Karina folded her arms across her chest and sighed.

"No." Leon repeated himself. "Maus, you have become physically distressed since you've heard from her again. I don't want her around you and I definitely don't want her around our daughter."

Taking a sip of her coffee, Karina nodded. "I get what you're saying but what if we just invited her to Sofie's party? There will be people there so it's not like she will cause a scene, it fulfills any familial obligation-"

"It won't be good for you." Leon continued to protest. "And if I'm being honest, I don't want her to get to know Sofie at all."

Karina shrugged. "I mean, there is a difference between meeting someone and getting to know them."

"Hungry!"

They both turned to look at Sofie who had, despite half of it being smeared across her face, finished her toast.

"Do you want some scrambled eggs?" Leon turned his attention back to Sofie for her answer.

"No!" Sofie stuck her bottom lip out in a pout that was the mirror image of her mother's. "Chocolate."

"Please." Karina began an almost futile attempt to get all of the remaining almond butter off of Sofie's face while attempting to remind the toddler that they were practicing manners.

"You can have a chocolate croissant," Leon began bargaining, "If you have a few strawberries too."

Sofie scrunched her face up as she attempted to outmaneuver Karina. "Croissant! Croissant!"

"I'm just worried about you." Leon gave Sofie a quarter of a croissant with a diced strawberry before turning his attention back to Karina.

She closed her eyes and sighed before leaning into Leon. "I know, baby. I just don't know what the right answer is."

"I can tell you that she will say we only had a baby to save our marriage and she'll criticize everything that we're doing with Sofie." Leon stopped himself from continuing. "She's just going to hurt you again."

While Leon had always been polite with her parents, it wasn't until recently that he became more vocal about his mistrust of them. Karina didn't disagree but she didn't want to start a fight over it if she thought that a simple introduction at Sofie's second birthday party would suffice. Karina nodded. "I hear what you're saying. What I'm saying is that…maybe we can do a very minimal, heavily supervised visit and see how that goes. I can tell her she's on probation."

Leon sighed again. "You have no right to complain about Sof being stubborn, you know that, right?"

Karina smiled back at him, stretching up so she could kiss the tip of his nose. "And you love both of us."

"Absolutely." Leon reached down and gave her bottom a squeeze. "Doesn't mean you're not frustrating sometimes."

"Papa!" Karina covered her eyes with her hands as Sofie was becoming quite demanding lately. "Kiss Sofie too!"

"Coming my love!" Leon glanced at Karina and smiled as he walked over towards their daughter. "Let's get you cleaned up, ok?"

"NO BATH!" Sofie did her best to squirm out of Leon's arms after he took her out of her highchair.

Leon situated Sofie so that he had enough of a grip on her and sat her down on the kitchen counter. "No, not a bath, but we need to wash your face so the dogs don't take care of that for us."

Karina smirked as she had figured out a way to be able to clean Sofie up without her realizing she was helping. "Babe, give her the washcloth."

"What?" With one hand on Sofie's leg, Leon glanced back at Karina. "How does that work?"

"Watch." Moving closer to them, Karina took the cloth from Leon and handed it to Sofie. "Where's your nose?"

Sofie immediately took the washcloth and covered her nose with it, cleaning up most of the chocolate in the process.

"Where's your mouth?" Karina repeated the process with her cheeks and soon, Sofie was about as mess free as she'd be until her bath later that evening. "And down we go."

As soon as Karina put Sofie down, she went back out to the terrace and straight to the board that Leon's father had made her. Part of it was devoted to all sorts of latches, pulls, and hinges while the other part was a moveable maze for a ball that she could manipulate into different directions. Apparently, he had made one for each of his daughters' kids as well so he was more than happy to give one to Sofie. Karina made a point to text a few pictures and videos of her using it to Leon's mother.

"Listen, if you insist on letting your mother visit," Leon was in the process of carrying a couple of plates out to the terrace, indicating that he was ready for Karina to follow him, "We should probably have it be by herself or with your father. Remember when you decided not to tell her that we'd gotten married in front of our whole families?"

Karina sat down across from him and sighed. "You're right. Thank you for making breakfast."

"Why wouldn't I make breakfast?" Leon looked up at Karina before turning his attention to the ramekin filled with baked eggs and avocado. "You're obviously exhausted, I just wish there was more I could take off of your plate."

Glancing back over at Sofie who now had a very alert Ember supervising her and the ball, Karina smiled as she put her hand over Leon's and gave it a squeeze. "So you think I should invite my parents down?"

"No," Leon shrugged, "But if you are going to let them meet Sofie then it should be one on one first. And they have to stay in a hotel, we don't have room here."

"I could sleep in the office and they could take our room-" Karina's smile widened once Leon realized she was being facetious.

"On a serious note, it would be an opportunity to set up some boundaries." Leon nudged her foot with his. "Just make sure it's a time when I can be here. I won't leave my girls alone with them."

Karina's heart always managed to swell when Leon referred to the two of them as 'his girls."

They both kissed Leon goodbye as he went to his training session before meeting Mina and her little boy Finn for a walk in the park. After some lunch, Sofie was surprisingly agreeable in going down for a nap and Karina used that time to call her mother back.

Karina's heart felt like it was in her throat as she waited for her mother to pick up. Finally, there was the sound of the line clicking over.

"Well, it took you long enough to return my call."

Karina cleared her throat. "You know it's hard for me to talk to you, Mama."

"Apparently so since you can't even seem to tell me that you've had a child. If the Fischer's hadn't seen you at Leon's parents then I still wouldn't know."

Letting out a sigh of relief, Karina closed her eyes. They must have been seen when they were visiting for Konrad's birthday and her parents didn't have people on the lookout for her. Obviously, she took too long to respond because her mother, in a slightly sharper tone, spoke again.

"Do I get to know anything about my grandchild?"

"Her name is Sofie and she was born on the 3rd of May." Karina sighed again. "She'll be two on her birthday."

"I'm assuming Leon is the father?"

Karina's eyes widened. "Oh my god, Mama. Leon is my husband so, yes, he is her father."

Now she could hear the hint of humor. "Well, there are so many things that you don't tell me…did you give her a middle name? Whose surname does she have?"

"I took Leon's name a few years ago. Her full name is Sofie Lyn Goretzka."

Before giving her mother a chance to respond, Karina continued. "Would you like to come to visit one weekend? We don't have room at the apartment but the Charles and the Four Seasons are both very close."

"You have a large house that you've hosted us at several times and you're trying to say you don't have room?"

"The season hasn't finished yet so Leon needs to be close by. We could go to a match while you're here. Besides, there's more to do in the city."

There was a brief moment of silence before her mother cleared her throat. "Fine. Expect us Friday evening."

As soon as she hung up, Karina covered her eyes with her hand. She had two days to have the apartment ready for her parents to visit. That meant she'd need to make sure the housekeeper could come a day early and she'd need to get Elsa and Ember into the groomers. Then she'd need to plan a menu for at least Friday, taking Sofie out to a restaurant that her parents would approve of would not go well.

Leon wasn't sure what to expect when he got home. If Karina had spoken to her mother, it would be hard to anticipate what kind of mood she'd be in, and completely unsurprisingly, Sofie had started to mirror Karina's moods. When he walked in, he found both of them sitting on the living room floor. Karina had her laptop open on the coffee table but she was currently explaining Seurat's use of pointillism to Sofie. Sofie was playing her favorite game of matching postcards of famous paintings to each other.

"Hello, my little honey bee." As soon as Sofie heard Leon's voice, she was on her feet and making her way towards Leon. He scooped her up and gave her a kiss before moving over to Karina. "And there's my Mausi. How have we been today?"

Karina smiled as she leaned in for her own kiss. "Pretty good, right? We met Mina and Finn at the park and somebody took a great nap so we're in an excellent mood now."

"Yeah?" Leon turned his attention back to Sofie. "Were you a good girl for your Mama?"

Sofie nodded before Leon gave her another kiss and put her back down, looking back to Karina. "Anything else?"

"T minus two days until my parents will be here." Karina gave him a strained smile.

Leon smiled back patiently before he placed his hands on either side of her face and kissed her forehead. "Let me know what you need me to help with."

As Friday approached, Leon noticed that Karina's anxiety seemed to be building. He could have pointed out that the visit was her idea but he knew that wouldn't accomplish anything. This morning, he dropped the dogs off at the groomer and would pick them up on his way home. That way, Karina wouldn't have to haul all three of their babies around and could focus on dinner prep while Svenja, the housekeeper, got to work. When Leon got home, Karina had already started dinner but clearly wasn't getting very far trying to entertain Sofie at the same time.

He walked over and kissed Karina on her cheek before wrapping his arms around her waist. "I love you, Maus. Just in case I don't get a chance to tell you later."

Karina responded with a quizzical look at first but ultimately smiled. "I love you too."

"Here, let me take her for a few so you can finish what you're working on." Leon crouched down so that he was eye level with Sofie who was sitting at Karina's feet and using a whisk in an empty saucepan. "C'mere you."

Karina smiled as Sofie giggled hysterically, Leon blowing raspberries on her belly. Once she was able to fully focus on dinner, she found that it helped to ease her mind, even if it was only a short term solution. She had just closed the oven when she heard them knock at the door.

Pausing for a moment to take a breath, Karina put on a smile and opened the door. "Hello Mama, Papa."

"Hello Karina," Her mother leaned in for an air kiss on each cheek and Karina obediently followed the same motion. "This is quite nice, when did you move?"

"A few months before we were married." Karina shrugged, realizing that she was going to be chastised for keeping another bit of information from her parents.

"I know that I'm not as…communicative with you," Karina sighed, "And I'm sorry about that."

Karina's mother pressed her lips together and nodded. "It's just surprising. Sometimes I feel like we know so little about you. You've always been so independent and I suppose we find it…difficult to interpret why."

With a frown, Karina nodded. "I guess it's just, sometimes I feel like I can't breathe without being criticized. Then there's Marius being your favorite-"

"We don't have a favorite-" Karina's father started to protest before she interrupted him.

"You decided to break up my marriage and disown me because of Marius." Karina kept her voice as neutral as she could, she didn't want to escalate into an argument. "Clearly his feelings are more important to you than mine are."

Her mother cleared her throat. "Yes, that was obviously a very big mistake on our part. We believed that there was at least a bit of your sibling rivalry at play when you pursued a relationship with Marius's best friend against his wishes."

"When you all called me and said that you no longer considered me to be part of your family…I was in the process of having a discussion with Leon about having children. I already thought that he was going to leave me and then you all tell me that I don't matter to you-" Karina sighed deeply before continuing. "I was pretty well convinced that I didn't need to be alive anymore. Honestly, if I didn't have Elsa that I needed to take care of, I probably wouldn't be here."

"Karina, I…" Her mother stammered, "I didn't-"

"I'm not trying to make you all feel guilty or anything, I'm just trying to let you all understand how much you have hurt me and why I might not be so willing to just brush it off as an honest mistake." She sighed again. "And just to let you all know, Leon absolutely holds it against you. He didn't even want you all to meet Sofie."

Closing her eyes, her mother nodded again. "I see we obviously have some mending to do."

"Mama!"

Sofie's joyous shriek cut through the silence and gave Karina a welcome distraction. She turned to see Sofie toddle out of their bedroom, Leon had changed her into her tunic hoodie and a new set of leggings without her even needing to ask. "Did Papa get you some new clothes?"

Nodding enthusiastically, Sofie reached up so that Karina would hold her.

"Hey Mausi," Leon called out from their bedroom, "There's a little monster headed your way."

Karina picked her up and kissed her nose. "I've got her, babe. Thank you for getting her ready!"

She turned to her parents. "Sofie, this is my mama and my papa. Just like Oma and Opa."

Sofie frowned and leaned in the direction of the refrigerator where the was a picture of Leon, with his parents, holding her. She emphatically pointed to the picture. "Oma."

"Yes. Oma is Papa's mama and Opa is Papa's papa." She kissed her cheek. "You have two."

Sofie cocked her head to the side. "Ok. Hungry."

"Ok." Karina laughed as she put her down. "Dinner will be ready soon."

"She's beautiful, Karina." Her mother looked on fondly as Sofie made her way over to her nesting cups. "How have things been going?"

Karina glanced in the direction of their bedroom, wondering if Leon was going to hide all evening before turning her attention back to her mother. "Oh, um, fine. Good. She's been a pretty easy baby so far."

"Something smells delicious." Her father, who had been out on the terrace, came back into the kitchen now. "Karina, are you making dinner tonight?"

Karina hadn't considered it before, but now she figured that this was something Marius had never done for them. Her mother was right in that there was a rivalry between the two of them, but Karina felt like it was mainly her trying to prove that she was as deserving as her brother. With a smile, she nodded. "Yeah. It's pistachio crusted salmon with roasted asparagus and baby potatoes."

"Are we ready for plates?" Unbeknownst to Karina, Leon had walked in while they were discussing dinner. She smiled and nodded as Leon reached around her to take the stack of plates from the counter, kissing her cheek in the process. "Eating on the terrace?"

Leon didn't wait for an answer and instead took the plates and silverware out before returning for glasses.

"Oh, um," Karina was trying to figure out how to navigate the fact that Leon hadn't acknowledged her parents yet. "There's burrata and French bread with an heirloom tomato salad out there already if you'd like a little something to get started with."

Her mother smiled while her father gave a little nod of acknowledgment as they walked out to the terrace. Karina turned back to Leon who was now filling a pitcher with water. "Baby, can you please-"

"I'll be nice." Leon sat the pitcher on the counter and wrapped his arms around Karina's waist, pulling her against him. "But only because you asked me to."

Leon grabbed a bottle of riesling from the fridge and headed out to the terrace. Karina began taking things out of the oven when she overheard him speaking to her parents. "Have you been introduced to the little monster yet?"

He spoke as pleasantly as he could with her parents before the conversation reached a natural lull.

"Leon," her mother started, "Obviously we have apologized to Karina but we need to apologize to you as well. For some reason, it was hard for us to accept that the two of you had more in common than just Marius."

Pressing his lips together, Leon gave a half-hearted shrug. "I don't know what you expect me to say."

"You don't have to say anything," She continued. "It needed to be said by us."

He smiled as well as he was able but didn't really respond.

"Do you think you'll have another?" Karina's father spoke now.

"No." Leon spoke so definitely it seemed to catch both of them off guard. "There were some complications when Sofie was born and Karina needed a hysterectomy. I'm not sure if she'd want another but we can't so…"

Her mother's eyes widened. "I had no idea. Why didn't she say something about-"

"Why do you think?" Leon scoffed before reminding himself to cut down on the hostility. "Whether you intend to or not, you're very critical of Karina and that last thing that she needed to hear was that this was her fault for doing whatever you think she should have done differently."

He wasn't sure what kind of response he was expecting but when both of her parents silently took their scolding, he was surprised.

"So," Karina came out carrying a platter, "Who's ready for dinner?"

The rest of their evening was uneventful and Karina made plans to pick her parents up before Leon's match so they could travel to the Allianz together. Leon noticed that Karina seemed to relax as the evening went on, becoming more self assured in her interactions with her parents. Once they had said goodnight, Karina stopped to check in on Sofie, making sure she was still asleep in her newly converted toddler bed.

When she walked back into their bedroom, Leon was already in bed, lounging almost diagonally as he scrolled through his phone. "Mom said they'd watch Sof and the girls for a few days if we wanted to take a little trip."

Karina shrugged and laid down next to Leon, nearly wrapping her body around his. "We could. Whatever you want."

"Even Mallorca?" Leon smirked as he took a finger and raised the hem of her slip so he could stroke her stomach.

She hesitated, mainly because he had his hand on her cesarian scar. The thought of being in a bikini was still more than she was willing to process but she knew how much he enjoyed the Spanish island. She thought for a moment longer and realized that they would be returning to where she and Leon first acknowledged that there was something between them. Given all that they had been through together in the last few years, Karina thought it might be nice. With a smile, she leaned in and kissed him. "Whatever you want."

#it's a long one #leon goretzka #Football Fanfiction #things we do for love

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cialbi · 3 years

Text

Boy with Hope: Lavender - Chapter Four

Summary: Severely depressed and addicted to alcohol, you had given up entirely on life. Your passion was gone, your friends had left you and you found yourself completely alone. As you closed your eyes for the last time, the smell of lavender wafted through your nose and a boy with purple wings appeared above you.

Genre: Angst, Romance, Fantasy

Pairings: Angel Hoseok x Reader

Warnings: Language, Depression, Alcoholism

⤎Previous

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The smell of citrus had you blinking your eyes open. It was a familiar smell, comforting. A scent you hadn’t smelled in a long time.

As your vision adjusted and your foggy head cleared, you noticed a display of stick-on stars plastered to the ceiling, glowing faintly against the autumn colored sunlight. You’d put them on almost every inch of your childhood bedroom when you were ten. Living in the city, stars were a rare sight, so you had concluded that this way, every night would be a starry one.

You sat up, knees hugged to your chest. A Disney princess blanket was draped over your lower half and ruffled pink pillows supported you comfortably as you leaned back against the headboard of your childhood bed. Looking around made you feel nostalgic, happy even. Seeing the array of stuffed animals that surrounded you and the zoetrope on your white wooden nightstand left a warm feeling in your gut. But something poked at your brain, telling you something was not right.

‘How did I get here?’ You wondered, though the thought felt distant, unimportant.

Before you could dwell on it, there was a knock at your door. “Y/N, can I come in?” That voice. You knew that voice.

“Yes, come in.” You said, almost automatically.

The door creaked open and the curly brown head of your mom poked in from behind. “Hi there sleepyhead, how are you feeling? I brought you some dinner.”

How were you feeling? “Um.. fine, I think?”

Your mom gave a soft laugh, entering your room with a tray of her special spaghetti and a tall glass of water. She placed the delicious smelling food on your nightstand before taking a seat beside you on the bed and reaching to place a hand on your forehead.

“Hmm… you’re still a little warm.” She confirmed. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

Scrunching your brow, you tried to think about how you’re feeling, but all that comes up is a groggy mush and that irking in your tummy. An irking that this is an unusual situation and you’re not supposed to be here.

“Well…” You started. “I don’t feel sick.”

She smiled, her pale pink lipstick looking like a flower petal. “That’s good to hear. You really had us worried.”

Looking at your mom was surreal. It had been so long since you’d seen her face; her beautiful, soothing face that always put your mind at ease. On many occasions she’d been your support, held your hair back as you vomited from the overindulgence of alcohol. She’d scraped you off the steps of your house and helped you bathe away the sweat and barf in your hair. She had held you close as you cried from the pain of intoxication, and nursed you the next day with lots of water, alka seltzer and tums. She’d done so much for you, and in return all you did was fall deeper into the hole you were digging. And as you looked at every line of her face and her softly applied makeup, you couldn’t help but pull her into a hug.

“What’s this?” She giggled, hugging you back.

“Im sorry, mom.” You murmured, your voice muffled by her wool sweater.

“Oh, honey.” Ever so softly, she began to rub your back, something she did whenever you were distressed. It was soothing, familiar, and full of love. You couldn’t help but cry.

“I’m so sorry.” You blubbered, burying your face further into her shoulder.

“You should be.” The tone of her voice suddenly changed.

You blinked. ‘What?’

That irking feeling began to scream as your mom’s grip tightened. The digging of her nails burned your flesh and had you yelp in pain.

“Mom what are you doing? Stop!” Wriggling, you tried to break free but she was too strong. When did she get that strong?

She laughed. Not the kind hearted laugh like before, but a morbid laugh that sent a chill down your spine. Nuzzling your neck, her lips ghosted your ear. “You’re a disappointment.”

Your eyes widened, tears spilling down your cheeks at the comment. Your mom had always expressed her concerns for you, her doubts and sadnesses, but she had never said anything so cruel before.

There was a tiny tickle on your cheek. With surprise, you used all your strength to pull yourself away from her chest only to see the woman you loved most crawling with cockroaches. Screaming, you scooched back against the wall and away from her. ‘Not this again. Please, not this again.’

Your mom didn’t move, sitting there with a deep frown on her lips. “How were we so unlucky to have a daughter like you?” She scowled.

Whimpering, you cried “Mom! I’m sorry!”

“You’re sorry? You’re always sorry, but you never change. You can never change!” She grabbed your shoulders, fingernails piercing your flesh. You shriek in agony. There was a chirping noise as the cockroaches began to flood the room and creep their way up onto your bed. You bit your lip, sobs leaking out of your mouth. Shaking you, your mom growled. “You’ll never change! You’ll never change!”

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” You repeated.

The chirping noise grew louder as the roaches overtook your arms, little legs writhing like snakes against your skin. You screamed again, trying to free yourself from her death grip but failing miserably. As you struggled, your mom relinquished one hand, only to grab your forehead in another strong hold. You gasped as she began to smash your head against the wall.

“Die!” She raged.

“Stop!” You cried. Your scalp became wet as blood trickled down your neck. “Please stop mom!”

“Die already!” Her eyes flashed red, her flower petal lips pulled back in a horrifying snarl. “Just die! Just die!”

Just.

DIE!

Your eyes shot open, the sight of your ceiling fan welcomed you with gentle blows of cool air. ‘Ugh. Just a dream.’ You groaned aloud and flopped your arms across your face in exhaustion.

“So, Sleeping Beauty finally wakes.”

You sat up abruptly to see the black-haired man from the hallway sitting in your desk chair with his legs apart and hands folded neatly in his lap. There’s a clear smirk on his striking face as he eyed you in amusement.

“You… what the fuck are you--” The throbbing in your head cut you off. You put a hand to your forehead and breathed deeply, sweat soaking through your shirt.

“I take it you didn’t sleep well?” He quipped, the look on his face made you want to smack him.

Ignoring him, you rubbed your temples and swallowed thickly. Your mouth was dry and there was an irrevocable thirst that itched in your throat.“Wh-um--what the hell happened?”

He adjusted himself, leaning back against the chair and crossed his arms over his chest before extending a ringed finger to point at your bedside table. “Water’s over there.”

You looked to where he pointed, and sure enough there was a tall glass of water and two tablets of Advil just beckoning for you to claim them. Your muscles groaned as you reached for them, swallowing the tablets first and then finishing it off with desperate gulps of water. When you finished, you placed the empty glass back on the table and wiped at your lips.

The dark-haired man raised an eyebrow at your eagerness. “Better?”

You coughed, choking a little on some spit. “Um.. yeah. Thanks.”

His pretty lips tugged into a sneer, a suitable expression for his intimidating appearance. “Don’t thank me.”

An awkward silence flew between you two. You looked at your hands and pinched at your wrist, not daring to meet the scary angel-man’s boring stare. At least you assumed he was an angel too, since he seemed to be Hoseok’s friend. And he had one of those silver crosses. But you would not at all be surprised if he turned out to be the devil's incarnate.

“So.” His voice broke the silence, startling you to look up at him. His chin was angled so that his lashes cascaded a shadow down his cheekbone, making him look even more beautiful and even more frightening. “What do you remember?”

You took a moment to collect your thoughts. Your head was fuzzy, but you could faintly remember running barefoot like a maniac all the way to Martin’s Liquor. “Did I…?

“Drink?” He snorted, leaning forward to rest his chin on top of his folded hands. “No. But you did cause one hell of a shitstorm princess.”

You furrowed your brows quizzically. “What do you mean?”

The dark-haired man cracked a smile. Not a cheerful, warm and fuzzy smile like Hoseoks. The kind that makes you feel like the whole world is in on a joke about you. “Went absolutely bananas. Destroyed half a liquor store. Almost killed a guy. Any of that ring a bell?”

Your eyes widened and before you knew what you were saying, the words started to tumble out. “That wasn’t my fault! I was being attacked. They were everywhere, those… those…” You gasped, finally remembering everything. “Cockroaches.” Shifting your position, you were now completely facing him, eyes almost pleading. “You have to believe me. They were there. It wasn’t a hallucination, I swear.”

“Oh I believe you, sweetheart.” He licked his lips, eyes rolling to look at the ceiling in a bored sort of interest.

“You.. you do?” You leaned forward eagerly.

The angel brought his head back down to level with yours. His expression was unreadable. “I believe you thought they were there.”

Your jaw clenched. “So you think I’m crazy.”

“I don’t think you’re sane.” He said matter of factly.

On top of being terrifying, this guy was a colossal jerk. Tears started to well in your eyes. You felt frustrated. You knew what you saw. But none of the other store clerks had seen it. Could you really be crazy? After everything you put yourself through, have you officially snapped? You were obviously seeing things that no one else could see. You trashed a store and, like the angel said, nearly killed a guy. The friendly, freckled face of the store clerk, soaked in blood flashed through your mind. A deep pang of guilt stabbed through your heart.

“That guy… is he ok?” The shame made you stare at the floor as you begged the question.

The dark-haired man sighed. “He’s fine. Hoseok took care of everything.” The dubious look you shot him made him sigh again. “With magic. He took away their memory and healed that guy you shoved. You don’t have to worry about a lawsuit anymore. All they’ll think is that the store was trashed by a crazy robber, or something like that.”

“Oh…” Was all you could say in response.

“That’s it?” He raised a brow. “No questions?”

You shook your head.

You should be asking more questions. This whole thing was utterly perplexing. Magic? Erasing memories? You knew about the healing, but it still caught you off guard. You should be freaking out, or running out the door again. But you had no energy left and you felt like you were going crazy. So you slumped back against the wall and allowed more tears to fall.

“Oh god. I’m completely insane.” You whimpered, lip quivering.

The dark-haired man fished out a pack of cigarettes followed by a silver lighter. He stuck the cancer stick between his lips and lit it, taking a long drag and exhaling deeply. “Yeah. Maybe.”

“Ok that’s enough.” A stern voice called.

Hoseok appeared from behind your kitchen door. He was holding a plate of steaming food and a glass of orange juice. His eyes were fixed with a warning stare which he directed towards his stoic friend. With a tut, he made his way over to your bedside and placed the food in your lap and the OJ in your hands. You sniffed, wiping away the tear stains and taking a little sip.

“Yoongi-hyung.” His voice softened but remained firm. “You can’t say things like that to her.” He turned his attention back to you. “Don’t mind him, love. He’s an incurable asshole.” You heard a grunt of disapproval. “Here, eat something. You must be starving.”

It felt like a millennia since you last ate, but as you looked down at the nicely prepared pancakes, you couldn’t find it in yourself to eat. Instead, you avert your eyes to the two men who are now seated side by side, with Hoseok seated criss-crossed on the floor and Yoongi still comfortably reclined in your desk chair.

They both stared at you in intense silence, as if you’d explode if one of them dared to move. You looked once more at the food, then back at them. A new found frustration boiled in your veins. How in the hell did they expect you to eat now? The entire situation was bananas, you felt bananas. And despite your exhaustion, you now had questions and a burning desire for some sort of emotional release.

“I’m sorry.” You started. Biting back the hostility in your voice, you slid the food off your lap and placed the OJ on your nightstand. “You have to forgive me. It’s been--well it’s been quite the day. First, some strange man breaks into my apartment, claiming to be an angell and heals me with his bare hands. And then, would you know it, sprouts enormous purple wings. Ok yeah, that’s weird. But then his moody, outcast-wannabe friend appears out of nowhere, tries to grab me--”

“Moody outcast? Is that me?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m the strange man with purple wings.”

“--and basically calls me crazy.” You continued, throwing them a ‘shut-up and don’t interrupt me' glare. “I see hundreds--no thousands--of disgusting mother-fucking cockroaches trying to flipping eat me, but no one else seems to see that. Instead I’m just this batshit-bonker balls lady who almost killed a guy and probably backrupted an entire store. Than this brooding asshole--”

“Yoongi.”

“--I don’t care. Tells me you--” You throw your arms up at Hoseok. “--apparently erased their memories, and used your magic-hands to heal that poor guy, which still sounds ridiculous. So please. Forgive me for asking. But just what in God’s fucking name is going on here and should I check myself for a psych-eval now or just wait until I actually kill someone. Because honestly, I still have no fucking idea if this is all in my head, or am I really--am I really standing here, venting my life problems to two of the lords chosen ones who have been the entire center of this loony-tunes day.” You take a deep breath, regaining all the lost oxygen you have just spent on your tirade, and turn to face the dumbfounded expressions of angel-dee and angel-dumb. “So now, I’m going to be quiet, and hope that for heaven’s sake, one of you will explain.”

“Uh…” Yoongi was the first to speak up. Not breaking eye contact with you, the dark-haired angel slapped a hand across Hoseok’s shoulder. “Wow man. Good luck with this one.”

Hoseok blinked in disbelief, like he doesn’t know where to begin. “Uhm… demons.”

Now it’s your turn to blink in disbelief. “Guzuntight?”

Blinking a few more times, Hoseok seemed to regain his composure. “Yes. Those were demons.”

“I’m sorry, demons? I thought you guys were angels.” You narrowed your eyes at Yoongi. “Except maybe this one.”

Yoongi returned your glare with sparks flying between you two. “He means the cockroaches.” He explained, sliding back into his collected demeanor.

“Wait.” You wiggled a finger next to your head as if the motion could somehow translate english to english. “The cockroaches… are… demons? Demons?”

Hoseok cleared his throat, preparing for a long explanation. “Yes. Well… sort of.” The ‘I-do-not-follow’ look on your face urged him to continue. “Let me put it this way.” He stood and held out a hand, palm facing up. A single glowing orb generated from his hand and hovered inches in the air. You gasped, because despite everything you’d seen today, you were still not used to this who magic-thing. “Every human has a soul. Bright, hopeful, full of light.” He said. “But when that soul is shrouded in darkness, it invites demons to come and manipulate that soul until there is no light left.” As he said this, the orb’s glow gradually dimmed until it was completely gone.”Our job as angels is to protect these particular souls and help them to find their light again, so that it doesn't disappear and leave the human empty.”

You nod. This all sounds completely bonker-balls, and you’re not entirely following, but you decide to probe further. “So… those cockroaches were demons… coming after my… my soul?”

Hoseok grinned, squinty eyes twinkling as you were finally putting it together. “Yes!”

Demons coming after your soul. Not the most illogical thing you’ve heard today. “Ok, but wait. Why haven’t I seen them before?”

There was a pause. Hoseok’s eye-smile dropping, lips dipping into a said frown. “You tried to kill yourself.” At the same time, all three of you lowered your gazes to the floor. Another moment of silence passed before Hoseok continued. “That’s when the soul is almost completely consumed by the darkness.”

You bit your lip. “So then I’m…”

“No! Don’t worry. Before I could let that happen to you, I brought you back.” The orange-haired angel assured you. “It’s just now… everytime you reach out for that darkness… it’s like a perfume for demons. They’re attracted to that scent of humans giving into their… well… personal demons. They take on your worst fear and use that fear to devour you. Your soul is still so sunk in black that even the slightest relapse will send them on your tail.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “Could you say that in a way I can understand?”

“You drink, you’re demon food.” Yoongi chimed in.

Hoseok’s eyes rolled to the ceiling as he breathed through his nose. “As a manner of speaking.”

You laughed bitterly. “Great.” The one thing your body desperately wants and you couldn’t have it. Because if you do, your soul turns completely black and demons get to eat your innards like spaghetti.

“Think of it like a cockblock. Don’t drink and the demons won’t bother you. Simple.” Yoongi affirmed, giving you a solid thumbs up which made you groan. Hoseok was right. Incurable asshole.

“Well no. It’s not that simple.” Hoseok smacked his friend’s leg. “We need to find a way to bring back that light in your life. And until then, I’m here to stay.

You frowned. You almost thought it was better when he was just a psycho on the loose. Because having a legitimate messenger of God all up in your business was way too much pressure. And to be frank, kind of scary. “And for how long?”

Hoseok scuttled over to take a seat next to you. “See this?” He tugged at the cross around his neck and presented it to your line of vision. He tapped softly next to an onyx jewel embedded in the middle. His gorgeous face beamed with excitement. “This is your soul… well a representation of it. When this completely turns white, then I’ve completed my mission and I’m out of your hair. I swear.”

Looking over to Yoongi, you eyed his necklace which also had an onyx jewel in the center of his cross. The dark-haired angel followed your gaze and looked down too. Then suddenly he stood up.

“And with that, I’m outta here.” He said plainly. “Got my own business to attend to.”

“Still haven't found her, hyung?” Hoseok asked his friend.

Yoongi sighed, a ghost of a sad smile on his lips, which surprised you to see any sort of emotion from him. “She’s a tough one to find.”

Before you could ask what they’re talking about, Yoongi made his way to your window, opening the latch and raising the pane all the way up. He perched like a hawk about to take off, the glowing autumn light casting a lovely glow against his porcelain skin.

“Hey!” You yelled, jumping to your feet but not daring to move.

“Don’t worry princess. They may not be purple, but they’re just as big and just as strong.” He said, sending you a little wink.

Your mouth opened and closed, wondering what he meant until two huge black wings burst from his back. They beat a couple of times to adjust themselves, sending a soft current of wind against your face.

“Oh my God.” You whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

Yoongi chuckled melodically, a beautiful sound you never thought his snarky lips could make. “Not quite.”

“Let me know when you find her, hyung!” Hoseok shouted after the dark-haired man as he leapt from the window and disappeared from sight.

Your head began to spin as yet another unbelievable thing just happened today. As you sat back down on your bed, you turned to look at Hoseok, trying to find any words. But all that could come out was, “Can’t you guys just use the friggin’ door?”

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

A/N

Again, pretty much unedited. Will go back later to edit. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!

Cial

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withcolebrock · 4 years

Text

Night Changes-Father’s Day

Summary: It’s Colby’s first father’s day as a father.

Night Changes Masterlist

Warnings: none? maybe swearing I don’t remember

Word Count: 1,926

Author’s Note: hi I think this is very cute hehe, I hope you guys like it!! The quality of the gif is so bad ahhhhh. Anyway this idea was given to my by my friend @curlyhairedbrock so thank you so much for messing with my feels with this idea 🥺This is my Gif!!

For the past seven months it had been the craziest and hardest time of their lives. They have been surviving on a maximum five hours of sleep per night. Colby and Y/N also have described it as the best months of their lives. Ever since they brought their little girl home, their life has never been the same.

Many relationships tend to struggle after having kids, but Y/N and Colby’s relationship had blossomed. They ended up getting closer, if that was even possible. During the past seven months, they also had a lot of help from their families and friends. Especially Sam and Katrina, they were over almost everyday just to see the baby.

Y/N climbed out of bed at the sudden sound of the crying baby on the monitor. She took a hold of the monitor, to try her best not to wake Colby. She turned off the sound quickly, she turned her head quickly taking a glance towards Colby. He laid on the bed with the comforter pulled under his chin as his head was squished into the pillow. She smiled softly to herself while opening the door quietly while she headed towards the nursery a few doors down. Taking in a long breath, she pushes the door open slowly.

“Good morning, Renni,” she spoke softly as she entered the room, Serenity still sitting up crying. “Oh, Love it’s okay,” she continued as she walked towards the crib. Y/N reached into the crib and picked the little girl. She cradled her in her arms and began rocking her softly. Serenity sobs slowly eased. Y/N walked towards the changing table and delicately laid her onto the top of it. She spent a few minutes changing her diaper and getting her dressed up for the day.

Y/N took a hold of the onesie with the words, ‘Daddy’s Little Girl,’ and smiled as she began putting it on her daughter. Today was Colby’s first official Father’s Day and Y/N wanted to spend the day making Colby feel special and making the whole day about him and Serenity. “Oh, Renni, look how beautiful,” she spoke softly as she lifted her daughter up from the changing table.

“Now, let’s make breakfast for daddy, yeah?” she bounced her softly in her arms as they exited the nursery. Serenity giggled softly as they began walking down towards the main living area. As they entered the kitchen, she put Serenity into a baby bouncer. She smiled towards her daughter as she walked towards the fridge taking out eggs, bacon, and pancake mix. She laid out all of the ingredients on the counter getting ready to prepare everything.

She began first by pouring oil into a pan and then she continued to lay a few pieces of bacon slowly onto the pan. She continued with the other pan with the scrambled eggs.

She continued to cook for fifteen minutes as she sang along to different songs, “I wanna stay up all night, and jump around until we see the sun…” she danced around as she laid out scrambled eggs onto the two plates. Serenity giggled as she played with the toys surrounding her in the bouncer and watched her mother.

The sound of footsteps coming from the hall shifted her attention away from the food. Colby walked out of the hall while rubbing his eye. She sighed, “Colby, you aren’t supposed to be awake yet,” she whined, flipping a pancake. He chuckled as he ran his fingers through his messy purple hair. He began walking towards Serenity sitting in the bouncer.

“Hi,” his voice went high as he lifted her up from the bouncer, “I know when my girls are awake,” he spoke as he poked Serenity on her belly looking at the onesie she was wearing. “Look at that, so cute,” he breathed while kissing her on the head. She giggled as she wrapped her little arm onto Colby’s chest. He took a hold of her hand. “And your food smells delicious,” he smiled as he leaned behind her. Turning around she beams up towards him. He gives her a quick peck on the lips as he walks around towards the kitchen barstool.

“Thanks, Baby. It’s almost done, just have to finish the pancakes,” she pressed her lips together as she poured the last of the pancake batter onto the pan. Glancing, she watches Colby lift up Serenity’s little fingers and play with them. She smiled to herself as she focused on the food. She finished the last pancake and turned off the stove, she placed a few pancakes on the two plates she pulled out. “Colbs, can you put her in her chair? I have to grab her food,”

He hummed as he stood up slowly, cradling the little girl. “I know, Renni, what you're about to eat is disgusting,” he explained, his tone higher than normal. Y/N rolled her eyes as she pulled out the premade mashed bananas. “Oh wait,” he spoke dramatically as he began buckling her in, “It’s bananas, that’s way better than the other gunk you ate yesterday.” he took the bib sitting on the tray and delicately wrapped it around her neck.

She placed the bowl beside her plate, next to Serenity’s high chair. Colby took the plates from the counter and carried them towards the dining table. “She liked it,” Y/N smirked as she sat beside Colby and Serenity. He chuckled while rolling his eyes, looking down towards Y/N. Her lips curled upwards softly as she admired his bright blue eyes. “Happy father’s day, my love,” she whispered. A wide smile grew to his features as his cheeks began to blush. She raised her hand to his cheek and pulled his head towards her. She pressed her lips against his softly before pulling away.

“Thank you,” he pursed his lips forward as he looked away briefly. She lifted up the spoon with a small amount of the bananas and brought it to Serenity’s lips. She ate it quickly. Colby and Y/N let out soft giggles as they watch their little girl eat. “It’s my first father’s day as a dad, how cool is that,” he smiled to himself as he watched his daughter continue to eat.

She rested her head onto his shoulder, “How does it feel, Bubby?”

“Weird, I can’t describe it,” he chuckled.

~~~

Colby leaned his body against the couch as he let out a dramatic sigh. Y/N walked back into the living room without Serenity as she sat down next to Colby. “Why did we have to put her down, it’s father’s day and I should be able to cuddle my daughter whenever I want to,”

“You know she needs to nap, Babe,” she sighed as she closed her eyes.

“She could nap right here,” he said, hitting his chest lightly. She opened her eyes briefly looking over to see him still pointing to his chest. She giggled, shutting her eyes again. He took in a long breath as he stood up from the couch. “I’m grabbing her,” he shrugged his shoulders while he started walking towards the nursery.

“No, Colby, she-” she tried to speak up but he was already down the hall. She covered her face in her hands as she choked out a laugh. She rubbed her eyes a few times before pulling her hands away from her face. She laid with her eyes closed, waiting for Colby to come back.

As he entered the nursery, Serenity laid still staring towards the ceiling blinking slower and slower. “Hi, Renni,” he whispered as he reached into the crib, delicately picking her up. “How’s my baby girl?” he cradled her in his arms as he slowly walked towards the rocking chair. He sat down slowly as he began rocking back and forth, while looking down over her little features. “Tired?” he asked as he watched her yawn.

He let out a soft laugh as his eyes scanned his little girl. “You know today is a pretty special day for me,” he spoke softly, his voice rasped as he spoke. “Well, for you too,” he chuckled, “You are the reason it’s special to me, you made this day special. Your mommy wanted to have this whole party thing with all of your aunts and uncles, but I told her this was more than enough. Just some time with you and your mommy, was all I needed,” he leaned his head against the back of the rocking chair, shutting his eyes.

~~~

She lifted her head up from the couch, rubbing her eyes softly. She picked up her phone checking the time, noticing it had been a few hours later. She rubbed her eyes a few more times before she stood up from the couch. Her eyes wandered the living room area searching for Colby. She began walking towards their bedroom when she stopped suddenly. Through the cracks of the door she sees Colby asleep with Serenity.

Quickly, she pulled out her phone and took a few pictures. She may post a few later, but she wanted a few keepsakes. She slowly pushed the door open, soft creaks echo pulling Colby from his sleep. He squints harshly before opening his eyes slowly. Y/N meets his sleepy gaze from across the room. “Hey,” his voice was hoarse as he lifted his free hand and wiped his eye.

She took little steps towards Colby and the rocking chair. “Comfy?” she questioned as she stood beside him. He tilted his head towards her and nodded with a small smile to his lips. She moves her hand across his upperback slowly and rests it onto his shoulder. She leans down looking over her sleeping daughter. “She’s been sleeping long?” she asked as she ran her fingers along his shoulder.

“Yeah, she was out as soon as we got in the chair,” he chuckled, “How long were we asleep?” he asked, wiping his hand over his face.

“A couple hours,” she breathed, leaning down pressing her lips to his cheek before walking in front of the rocking chair. She leaned down and glanced towards Colby before taking a hold of their little girl. He delicately handed her towards Y/N, and stood up from the rocking chair. Serenity started to fidget in Y/N’s arms and began to wail in tears. “I know honey, I’m sorry,” she rocked her slowly as she carried her over to the changing table.

Colby leaned his body against the wall as he watched his wife. “Serenity, you can go back to Daddy in a minute,” she sighed as she continued to change her diaper, Colby bows his head letting out a breathy laugh. A few minutes go by as Serenity continues to cry, Y/N trying her best to calm her while changing the diaper. Once the onesie was completely put on she lifted the crying little girl up and cradled her. “Bub,” she whispered as she walked closer to Colby.

Colby smiled widely as he gladly reached over for his daughter, as soon as she was in Colby’s arms her cries softened. Y/N rolled her eyes playfully as she laughed. Colby joined in as he ran his hand up and down Serenity’s back, “Daddy’s Girl, I guess,” Y/N sighed as she leaned up towards Colby, he smiled as he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers gently.

“As she should be,” he winked as he leaned down and pressed his lips against Y/N’s lips again.

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whumphoarder · 4 years

Text

Death by Waffles

Summary: When Tony decides to adopt a cat for Morgan, Peter is almost more excited about it than the six-year-old. He just failed to mention one minor issue before coming to visit at the lake house for the weekend.

Or, in which Peter is horrifically allergic to cats but JUST LOVES THEM SO MUCH.

Word count: 1,638

Genre: Fluff, slight whump, humor

A/N: Thanks to @xxx-cat-xxx & @sallyidss for beta reading and giving me ideas!

Link to read on Ao3

“I still think we should have called him Winston Furrchill,” Tony says with a shrug, watching Peter, who’s sitting cross legged on the living room floor, grinning ear-to-ear, stroking the long-haired cat’s fur.

“That’s so boorrring, Daddy,” Morgan complains. She grabs the little feather teaser and dangles it in front of the cat’s face. He lifts a paw lazily to bat at it. “All your ideas were so boring.”

“What are you talking about?” Tony balks at her, eliciting giggles from Peter and a dramatic groan from the six-year-old. “My ideas were gold. Mr. Meowgi. Bill Clawsby. Genghis Khat.”

Peter snaps once and shoots a finger gun Tony’s direction. “Luke Skywhisker!” he throws in, causing Morgan to groan. “Ooh! Call him Nick Furr-y!”

“No! His name is Waffles!” Morgan exclaims, throwing up her hands in exasperation and causing the kitty in question to dart across the room and dive into his favorite hiding place—the cardboard box that his brand new, untouched, three-hundred-dollar cat tree came in. Tony just rolls his eyes; it’s behavior like this that makes him almost regret spending the last four days in the workshop designing that damn feline an elaborate catwalk and perch system spanning every room of the lake house.

(Almost.)

Morgan sticks her lip out in a pout.

“Aw, Mo, we were just teasing,” Peter says, patting her arm with a kind smile. “Waffles is a great name—I love it.”

That seems to console her. She grins back at him. “It’s ‘cus when we brought him home, he was really scared the first day and he just wanted to hide under my bed. So Daddy said I could eat breakfast in my room with him so he’d feel safer, but then I had to go to the bathroom and when I was gone he stole my waffle,” she rambles.

Peter quirks an eyebrow. “Your cat ate a waffle?”

Morgan nods. “Uh-huh, and then he puked it up again on the carpet!” she explains cheerfully.

“Ah yes, fond memories…” Tony mutters.

“So I named him Waffles,” Morgan concludes. “But I almost called him Syrup, ‘cus he got that on his paws when he walked on the plate, and then he ran around everywhere and it was all sticky. Mommy says that’s why we got ants after.”

While Peter snorts out a laugh, Tony just runs a hand over his face and sighs. “It’s been a long week.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Peter laughs, rubbing a hand at his eyes. He uncrosses his legs and gets to his feet to walk over to the box where Morgan is trying to lure Waffles out again. “I always wanted a cat, but May never let me get one—said they were too much hassle.”

“They are,” Tony says emphatically.

“Are not,” Morgan disagrees. As Peter sits down by the box, she picks up the bag of kitty treats and starts shaking it, causing Waffles to poke his head out. She pours out three little treats onto her open palm. He sniffs them suspiciously, then turns his nose up and buries himself back in the box.

Morgan turns to Tony and shrugs. “I don’t think he likes chicken flavor anymore. You gotta get him the salmon ones, Daddy.”

“But you told me this morning that he doesn’t like salmon,” Tony argues. “He only eats the premium chicken with gravy.”

Morgan shakes her head. “No, no that’s his wet food. He only eats dry salmon, and wet chicken. And sometimes tuna, but only that one in the blue bag.”

“And waffles,” Peter throws in with a wry smile, sitting down to start stroking the cat inside the box. “Don’t forget the waffles, Mr. Stark.”

“At this rate, I’m thinking it’d be better to just install a cat flap and let him find his own mice for dinner,” Tony grumbles.

As if on cue, Waffles meows irritably and leaps out of the cardboard box, straight onto Peter’s lap. However in doing so, the cat’s fluffy tail tickles the kid’s nose. Peter sneezes twice—rather violently—startling the cat to the point that it shoots across the room and climbs halfway up the drapes.

“Waffles!” Morgan cries and races after him.

Sniffling a bit, Peter gives a sheepish smile. “Whoops.”

Tony rolls his eyes and extends a hand to help lever the kid up again. Peter rubs at his eyes again—which Tony notices are redder than usual. He raises an eyebrow suspiciously. “Are you sure ‘too much hassle’ was the only reason May was against you having cats?”

Something flashes across Peter’s face, but it’s gone just as soon as it appears. “Yeah, yeah of course. Well, that and she’s more of a dog person, really, but they’re not allowed in the apartment.”

“Hm.” Tony glances at his watch. “Alright, well it’s almost His Royal Highness’ dinner time.” He gestures to the kitchen. “Let’s go see if we can get him to choke down some caviar and truffles or something…”

Three hours later, Tony can’t ignore the signs any longer. After witnessing Peter’s third sneezing fit since dinner, he privately pulls the kid out into the kitchen. “Pete, c’mon,” he sighs. “Just admit it already.”

Taking a tissue from the box Tony holds out to him, Peter shrugs innocently. “Alright, you got me. Guess I’m coming down with a cold.” He wipes his nose.

Tony raises an eyebrow. “A cold that began ten minutes after entering our home and has only gotten progressively worse since?”

Peter chuckles a bit. “Yeah, go figure, right? Perfect timing for my weekend off. What does Doctor Banner call that again?” He tilts his head to the side in thought. “Starts with an L…”

“Pete…”

“Leisure sickness!” he recalls, his face lighting up. “That’s the word. Think I’ve got that.”

Rolling his eyes, Tony starts ticking each symptom off on his fingers. “Your nose is running, your eyes are watery, you’re sneezing—”

“Which is all from the cold,” Peter cuts him off. He coughs twice into his elbow. “See? Sick.”

Tony scoffs. “In all the years I’ve known you, you’ve never once admitted to being sick unprompted.” He pauses a beat. “Including that time you were actively vomiting.”

Peter rubs a hand at the back of his neck and gives a sheepish grin. “So I'm really demonstrating growth, then, huh?”

Tony ignores him and soldiers on. “You’re itching,” he says, gesturing to the red welts emerging on Peter’s forearms and neck. “You’re getting a rash—”

Peter tugs his hoodie sleeves down to cover them. “I think that’s the new laundry soap I’ve been using...”

Tony blinks at him. “Your eyes are bright red, kid.”

Peter opens his mouth to retort something, but then closes it again. He drops his gaze to the floor and lets out a hard sigh. “Okay… okay you’re right,” he admits. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t wanna say it around Morgan.” He looks up and, with a totally straight expression, whispers, “I’ve been smoking weed, Mr. Stark. I’m actually tripping balls right now.”

“Peter, just admit that you’re allergic to cats!”

“Huh?” Morgan cries from the living room where she has her kitty on her lap while she watches Curious George. “Peter’s allergic to Waffles?!” The cat dives off her lap and out into the kitchen, hiding behind Peter’s leg.

Peter winces. Then his nose wrinkles up and he sneezes four times into his wad of tissues. When he draws in his next breath, it’s more of a wheeze.

Tony heaves out a sigh. “Alright, we’re done here.” He bends down and scoops the cat up. “Waffles is staying in Pep’s office for the remainder of this weekend.”

“What?” Morgan blurts.

“Yeah, what?” Peter echos, snatching the cat back from Tony’s arms. “You can’t do that!”

“Pete, he’s making you sick,” Tony points out as Peter sneezes yet again. “If you’re already this bad in three hours, how do you expect to breathe in a couple more days?”

Peter looks stricken. “But… But you don’t understand.” He hugs the cat a little tighter and Tony swears he can see fresh hives emerging on Peter’s neck. “I just love him so much, Mr. Stark,” he says earnestly. “I would honestly die for this cat.”

Tony sighs and pats his shoulder consolingly. “Yeah, and that’s looking more and more like it might become reality, kiddo...”

It takes some convincing—and a bit of bribery—but eventually he gets the kids to agree to his plan. In the end, Morgan and Peter settle for a six-foot-tall ‘Royal Castle Kitty Condo’ (complete with a litter moat) in exchange for Waffles’ temporary banishment. He then sends Peter to the guest room while he and Morgan transfer the cat’s most essential supplies into the office, grateful for once that Pepper’s staying downtown this weekend.

Waffles promptly makes himself at home on the very top of her bookshelf—after first knocking over two glass figurines and a meticulously ordered stack of papers, sending legal documents flying around the room.

(Tony wonders just what kind of royal castle equivalent he’s going to have to bribe Pepper with when she gets back.)

It’s 12:16 a.m. when Tony remembers that they forgot to give Waffles his anti-hairball paste that evening and comes grumbling out of bed to do so.

It’s 12:19 a.m. when Tony opens the office door to see Peter, sitting on the floor with that damn cat curled up in his lap, wheezing out a high-pitched chant of, “Who’s a good kitty? Who’s a good boy?” between puffs of his inhaler as he strokes Waffles’ fur.

It’s 12:21 a.m. when Tony just gives up trying to reason with the kid and goes raiding the bathroom cabinets for Benadryl.

Link to all my fics

If you liked this story, you might also like:

Beanimia

Morgan Stark, M.D.

Fevers, Bananas, & Math Lessons

#fluff #domestic fluff #irondad #irondad fic #morgan stark #Peter Parker & tony stark #cats #allergies #sick peter parker #peter parker whump #my fic #tony stark has a heart #peter parker is a little shit

168 notes · View notes

vangoddamn · 4 years

Text

You’re so perfect

Vans 28th Birthday special!!

Warnings: Smut

You'd woken up earlier than usual, the excitement something that kept you from your dreams. He was still oblivious to the world around him, in his own little world that somehow you had managed to get lost inside of.

He looked peaceful and you didn't want to steal him away from his lazy thoughts for the day encroaching. You got the feeling you were more excited for his birthday than him himself. Well no, you knew you were because nothing could level with your excitement. You loved people's birthdays and making them happy in general and so when it came to Vans it came to no surprise to you or anyone around you that you went all out.

Van, of course, was the opposite, not really that fussed and most likely all he wanted to do was lay in bed with you all day, cups of teas, pancakes in bed and obviously birthday sex. He was a simple guy, one of the things you loved about him.

You so desperately wanted to lean down and kiss him awake. Lips ghosting over each freckle from his jaw bone to the bottom of his back that lay uncovered from a restless nights sleep. But instead, you bottled up your desires and crept out of bed in search of the decorations you had hidden. The party shop in town had practically been empty by the time you left the shop so you had enough to decorate nearly the whole flat.

You started in the open planned kitchen living room. Sticking bunting and paper streamers to the ceiling. There were confetti and decorations you didn't even know existed, yet you are aged perfectly and satisfyingly around the shared apartment. Finally, you snuck into the bedroom with the final decorations pinning the banner which read 'happy birthday Van' from one side of the room to the other. It faced Van meaning that when he woke up he'd see it straight away.

You fiddled with the tassels on the balloons you'd brought in and fretted over the amount of paper confetti was enough to look like a light sprinkle of happiness on the floor. Happy with the outcome you wandered off to the kitchen fixing up teas and pancakes for your boy. Laying out the maple syrup and cut up bananas on a tray before leading it into your room.

He was still asleep and with your jobs done you happily joined him in the cosy sheets of your bed. He was warm and skin so soft it made you want to be wrapped in his arms forever. He lay on his front and he faced you, your hand dancing over his bareback whilst the other arm held you up.

You always got butterflies looking at him, knowing you belonged to him and he belonged to you. How perfect things were, it was crazy and almost unbelievable. Almost. You fell asleep next to him unaware that you'd miss half the day from your lye in.

When his eyes started to adjust to the morning light that was poking through the sheer curtains, meeting yours he smiled. Still getting used to a house and not a tour bus. He wriggled under your hand, moving his body to sit up slightly, making a little noise that made wake up and nussle into him.

You moved onto his laps straddling him and smiling giddily. "Happy 28th baby" you beamed, leaning down to kiss his cheek, soon enough he moved you to align his lips with yours.

"thanks sugar" his hair had fallen in front of his face, leaning down rubbing your thighs which were resting on his. The contact-making you want to throw away all your plans and to just bask in each others company all day. Although that's what you had been doing for the last couple since he came home.

"I made you pancakes and tea" you giggled when his fingers traced up your thighs and to your hips, feathery and light making it ticklish. "And your present is in the kitchen"

"my present is right here" he whispered, a childish grin painted on his face. You wouldn't have known he was turning 28.

"Vaaan!" You faked disgussed.

"Nah only kiddin' babe, thank you" with his apology came a kiss to your nose, moving to the corner of your mouth where you aligned up to him.

"happy birthday" you mumbled into the kiss before pulling away from him and reaching for the tray on the bedside table. Moving off him you placed it down on his legs and smiled giddily, ready to dig in.

"Jeez, you've outdone yourself love!" He praised your spread of sweet pancakes and everything you knew he'd want. On the tray next to the treats was an envelope, with care he opened it, reading what you'd written the day before. You smiled knowing of the contents.

He opened it carefully, noticing two bits of paper fall out. He ignored them, going to read the card, his face full of concentration of the words you had written for him. And then suddenly his face lit up and he looked at you in disbelief going for the prices of paper that he'd previously ignored.

"fuck y/n, how did you even.," he muttered with shock, inspecting the tickets for the national. It had sold out nearly immediately but with mates, at the venue in Leeds, you managed to pull some strings.

"I hope that's ok," you smiled at him.

"babe, this is class" and before you knew it he had his arms around you and kissing your cheek, mumbling thank yous and love yous over and over in your skin.

After his praises and many giggles, you both dug into the fluffy stack of American pancakes you'd made. Like a child he drenched them in maple syrup, squishing banana and chocolate chunks on top. You were surprised he managed to finish them.

Once he had done you took the tray away into the kitchen washing up and cleaning everything up. It was hot and the sky was completely blue except the odd wisps of cloud that reminded you of candy floss. You didn't even realize you had been daydreaming out the window until Van crept up behind you making you jump.

"shitting Christ Van!" You screamed. Brushing yourself down, slightly embarrassed he'd caught you in a land of your own.

"aww I'm sorry baby come ere'" he giggled, playing off his amusement by wrapping his arms around your waist and hugging you from behind.

"you're so mean to me, I've made you all this and look what you do to me" you sulked knowing it he'd just find it cute, he always did.

"Nah, I'd never be mean to yous, and I love the decorations" he smiled into you, you felt his breath against your neck knowing he was inching closer to your skin. The thought of him there making a blush go to your cheeks and your blood rush, goosebumps on your arms appearing.

"I love how you still go red," he whispered, placing a kiss lightly on your cheek. So light that if your senses had not just been heightened, you'd never even noticed his lips had come into contact with the skin.

Your body felt overwhelmed with his touch. Hands on your waist, tightly gripping you as if you might leave. But you couldn't even if you wanted, your legs had long since turned to jelly and he was the only thing keeping you steady. He placed another kiss on the nape of your neck, releasing tingles throughout your body. His kisses slowly but surely became feverish until he spun you around, looking deep into your eyes as if he could read them. Then again he probably could, he could see the desire that pooled within them and the want that rimmed the iris. You were so predictable.

He'd made you restless for his touch, greedy and wanting more. His hands roamed your body, one of them veering south towards the heat which was ever growing needier by the second.

"Van, the boys will be here soon-" he cut you off with another kiss, stopping the words from leaving your mouth.

"let's have a shower" he managed to speak through the messy kiss he held you in, leading you down the hall to your bathroom. He turned the faucet as soon as he was in, letting it warm up whilst he took care of you.

You were still in his t-shirt that you slept in, falling loosely around your frame. He looked at you as if he had already undressed you in his head.

He closed the gap between you both, pulling the top over your body carefully. You were now naked except for the violet lace panties you had slept in. His hands trailed down from your shoulders to your hips pulling you into his, the pressure almost unbearable.

He had already been topless, only in a pear if boxers which you gladly stile from his body. There was something about the intimacy you both could share. It was hot and passionate but at the same time slow and full of appreciation, the safest you'd ever felt with someone. You quickly discarded of your panties and joined him in the shower, the heat surrounding you.

You pulled him closer, your arms resting loosely around his neck, fingers playing with his hair. You kissed the corner of his mouth, going to his jaw and trailing down until you were on your knees. He was already hard and you smiled, knowing you had the same effect on him as he did on you.

You took him in your mouth, setting out a slow pace, your hands working the base. You could hear him moan in satisfaction, deep guttural sounds when he called your name. His hands gripped loosely in your hair, pulling so you could feel his need. You could feel him pulsing, starting to speed up your pace increasing ever so slightly by the second.

"fuck y/n!" He called out loudly. One of your hands still stroking him, you softly traced down the inside of his thigh, making him moan even deeper when your head bobbed further over his dick.

You yours between speeds, making him wait for the climax knowing how much better the release would be. You could taste him, knowing his climax would arrive soon. Your cue to speed up, taking more if him, your eyes water. His moans and praises were even louder now, a warning that held true. He unloaded into your mouth, the salty liquid dripping out of your mouth, over your chin. You swallowed, wiping your mouth before licking him up until you met his eyes.

He looked shocked and deeply satisfied. "You like that birthday boy?" Shooting him a wink before he pinned you against the cool tiles of the shower and peppering kisses along your body.

"love you have no idea.." before you had time to even think through his next moves, his fingers were on your clit. Massaging around, swirling up where they threatened to slip inside of you. Your breath caught in your thought, unable to breathe knowing what he was doing.

A moan slipped out of you involuntarily when he dared, his arms wrapped around your waist whilst your arms held him tightly to you around his neck. He knew exactly how to work you, forcing moans and explicit things you never dreamed of crying out to slip from your mouth. You didn't even notice how loud you must've been until you heard someone call out.

"hellooo?" It was Larry's voice, and you could sense his cheeky tone. Your cheeks instantly turned a bright shade of magenta looking at Van as if you'd just been shot.

"babe it's alright, only Larry.." he said kissing you once more, his fingers pulling away from where you needed him most. It felt uneasy him not there, especially him leaving before the real pleasure kicked in. "Don't look so sad, I'll finish you off later" he winked turning the shower off and hopping out, leaving you even more red and flustered.

He wrapped a towel around his waist before holding one out for you signalling you to walk over to him. He wrapped it around you tightly, placing a kiss to your nose and patting you on the ass as you left.

"hi, Larry sorry bout that" you nervously apologized not quite sure what he had heard.

"s'all right y/n, sorry to ruin your fun" with his comment your stomach flipped and cheeks reddened. And before you could say anything the others came through.

"wow y/n, you look flustered, you ok" Benji chuckled, pointing out your uneasy expression.

"ah lads, quit teasing her ey!" Van warned them, although you could see his grin under his tone. Maybe he was happy the reaction he got from them or maybe it was the colour you had gone from both the lack of contact with him and the teasing.

You skipped over to the bedroom, hiding away to calm yourself down from the morning's activity, and your embarrassment. You let the towel drop to the floor and went to find something in which you could wear.

You pulled out the lingerie you'd splurged on from Ann summers for the special day and stepped into it. It was a completely sheer, mesh spotted body in soft baby pink. It was something you probably would never wear but now you were in it you couldn't help but check yourself out in the mirror. It accented your curves in all the right places and gave you the wave of confidence you had been missing.

You decided on your dark green pleated midi skirt and a black band tee, pairing it with a couple dainty necklaces and your docks. Before you could walk back to your group of friends, Van walked in a smug smile on his face and looking you up and down in what seemed to be awe.

"you look, beautiful love!" He complimented you, walking up giving you a twirl making you giggle with his playfulness.

"only for you," you smiled, resting your hands on his waist. He leant in smiling into a kiss that was only meant for the two of you. He left your touch, changing into some black skinny jeans, but you stopped him before he could continue dressing.

"I have something for you", You smiled up at him, half wishing you could just rip each other's clothes off and spend the day in bed, the other half excited to get hammered at the pub.

"ooh-" he mocked before you cut him off handing a present, neatly wrapped.

He opened it to find a shirt from Mary and Bernie. It was a deep burgundy, a colour he'd always suited. His eyes lit up when he saw the card reading who it was from.

"Thought you could wear that tonight" You suggested to him, taking the shirt from him and putting it on his frame, fastening each button, leaving a couple at the top for your sake.

You both returned to the lads together, hand in hand, brushing off their leud comments as best you could. Still going red when Bondy commented 'I didn't know you were so loud'.

Ater their teasing you headed out for tea at the pub in town. You had thought about booking somewhere fancy and posh but you weren't the types of people to dine in such places. You knew as soon as you sat down you'd all be judged and never be able to relax. The pub was your best bet.

---

It was late in the evening now and you were without question glad about your decision of the skirt. It gave you enough room for the food baby which had reached its second trimester by the time shots arrived. You joked around with Larry about your 'baby', admitting to Van that in fact, it was Bobs. Making Bob beg Van for his forgiveness, explaining how you could raise the baby, the three of you.

Safe to say the night was going as planned, and as you swayed into Van's shoulder at the bar you mumbled sweet nothings into his ear, looking up him like a puppy.

"I looooove youu" You sang into his ear, giggling when he said it back, shaking your head. "No, like I reaaaally really love you Vannny" You slurred, if he hadn't dealt with drunk you for a while he wouldn't have been able to make out the words.

"And I reaaaally really love you y/n" He whispered in your hair when he pulled you into his arms, kissing the top of your head. "Thanks for making my birthday perfect," He mumbled.

Soon after you both decided it was time to head home, leaving the lads and walking home messily. You leant on him for most of the walk, hand in hand, happily drunk together, your favourite type of drunk. The cool air that blew a gentle breeze through the city sobered you up, letting you appreciate the night and the man you got to share it with.

"I can't believe that if you weren't born today, I wouldn't be here either," you thought out loud, drawing a laugh from Van.

"I can't believe I managed to get a las that is this funny and this beautiful when drunk!" He thought back, giving your hand a small squeeze.

The cool breeze was starting to give you shivers, making you ever so thankful your flat was so close to the pub. The flat was still fairly warm from the sunny day and warmed you up.

You were tired now and was happy when Van led you straight to your bedroom. You both stood there for a while in each other's arms, taking a breather from the day. He pulled away looking at you with all the adoration in the world. You smiled, unbuttoning the shirt that not too long ago you had been dong up. You helped him undress until it was your turn, forgetting your lingerie, you let him lazily undress you until you noticed his face.

He looked shocked, but a lazy smile lingered on his features. "God, your perfect" He whispered.

You giggled at his boyish smile, leading him to the bed in which he took his time taking off your body suite, your two tired frames snuggled up together, lazily kissing. No intent on anything else, just happy with the day you'd been given.

"Hope you had a good birthday baby," You mumbled into his chest, smiling when he just nodded into you. "Glad you liked your presents," You whispered, ready to close your eyes and drift to sleep.

"My favourite one was you," was the sentence that let you relax completely and made your heart melt. So in love with your boy.

A/N: Hey you beautiful people! So it’s Vans birthday today and I couldn’t resist doing a birthday fic, does anyone else wonder what he’s doing. Well whatever it is I hope he has a lovely day, as do you!! I’ve had alot of requests for Bob/Benji stuff so expect that next!! Anyway, hope you are well, I’m always here for a chat if you neeed xx Em

#van #vanfic #van mccann #van mccann fanfic #van mccann x reader #van mccan fic #van mccann fanfiction #McCann #catfish #catb #Catfish and the Bottlemen #fanfiction #fanfic #catfish and the bottlemen fanfic

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heli0s-writes · 5 years

Text

III. Heavy With Mood

Summary: You have two very different dates with Steve. At the end of the second, the two of you come to be on the same page. Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader A/N: Modern AU, Teacher reader, Dad/Baker Steve… lots of pining, slow burn, romance. Enjoy!

Slow Like Honey Masterpost

The Last Day of First Grade (yes, it’s special) is a complete blur as all of your students are too restless and overactive to get through much of anything. Your body is so tired from the late nights of making sure everything is in order before summer break. Curriculum pacing just so happened to place two assessments on Monday, which left you and Heather with the task of frantically grading and re-testing any student who missed school. Entering grades and stuffing report cards kept you awake Tuesday night, as well as planning the Last Day festivities. Not to mention during your “break” periods at work, you were pulled into various meetings.

Other classrooms were doing huge events for the Last Day- full of parent involvement and showcasing student work.

You were dead tired. So you planned a pizza party and movie day before early dismissal. Screw the big huzzah. You had thrown two parties this year- Friendsgiving and Winter Solstice Party. The end of the year was going to be simple: Disney and pizza. The kids were beyond pumped for it.

In the morning you teach them how to make their own paper airplanes, decorating the papers together before folding. Then you take them on the playground and they all get a chance to fly them across the blacktop. Jason’s goes the farthest, coasting on a lucky breeze before diving nose-first into the bushes. Mabel’s plane gets caught in a basketball net and you have to poke it free with a snapped-off branch. The kids cheer as you teeter on your tip toes and jump until it comes loose.

By the time the pizza gets delivered, adults and children alike are sweat-glazed and ready for ice-cold juice pouches. You fire up the movie and begin passing out plates while Heather comes around with the pizza.

When you and Heather finally sit down, you breathe a sigh and wipe your forehead with the back of your hand. The kids are intently watching as Dory dreams about her parents and excitedly swims into the anemone. They giggle when she gets stung.

You rearrange your desk to make room for your own plate, moving flower vases and thank-you cards, stacking candy bars and consolidating gift bags. You had planned on reading these randomly, but a certain twine bow catches your attention and the bit of crust you’re chewing on gets stuck stubbornly in your throat.

Pulling the threads apart, you peek into the small gift back where a card sits on top of a stack of very large cookies encased in cellophane. The paper is heavy and rough against your fingers when you pull it out, peering in awe at the watercolor blossoms on the cover. You turn it in your hand, peering at the delicate craftsmanship, wondering which card company made such an exquisite thing but unable to see a label anywhere.

Holy shit. You realize, Steve painted this. You’re awestruck.

On the inside, his handwriting scrawls your first name delicately in black ink. Your heart leaps into your throat, taking place of the chewed crust as you choke a little bit.

Thank you for everything this school year. Sarah and I will be so sad to not have you in our lives… unless you’d like for that to change as much as I do. It is the last day of school, after all…

Please come have dinner with us today. I promise we’ll feed you more than just banana bread and cookies.

Steve

The smile you try to hide persistently thwarts your attempts as you reread the note over and over again, fingers digging into the cellophane wrapping before eating a corner of the top cookie. The raisins and molasses melt against your tongue. The crunch of the oats immediately sweeps over the softness with such deliberate balance you think you might faint.

It’s not your week on carline duty, but you take the students outside during dismissal to see and say thank you to as many parents as you can. Both you and Heather have received more hugs than you can count, and right after lunch, with pizza sauce on their shirts and all- the kids nearly dogpile you as you bend over to pick up a loose fork on the rug. Tears have been in your eyes since.

You hand off Grayson to his mother, Harper to her aunt, and one by one, all the children are gone. Except for, of course, sandy-haired, blue-eyed Sarah, who grips on to your hand and points when her father’s distinct figure peeks out from behind the crowd of parents. When he walks up, they share a smile and Sarah swings your hand in wide semi-circles.

“Are you gonna come have spaghetti with us?” She asks, skipping from you to latch onto her father’s leg. You look around tentatively, waving goodbye to any straggling student you might know. Other teachers glance over at Steve, then avert their eyes quickly.

The Rogers smile at each other and Steve gives Sarah a wink. There go those lovely eyelashes again, fluttering like your heart.

“Well, I do love spaghetti…” You mumble. Sarah giggles excitedly and jumps up with a clap.

“Yay yay yay yay! Daddy lets me make the meatballs and wash the tomatoes. Can you stay for a movie? Can you stay for a sleepover?”

Both you and Steve sputter at her suggestion but Sarah rambles on about what movies they have at home. He mouths an apology and you shake your head with a laugh.

“How about five?” He asks, fiddling with his phone. “I’ll send you our address?”

You nod and he shoots off the text. Then he takes Sarah by the hand and with a small wave and another shy half-glance back behind him, Steve leads her off the curb and into the emptying parking lot.

Wiping the beading sweat from your brow— more nerves than summer sun— you return to your classroom. It was about half-past noon. You have another two hours of cleaning up before you can leave. Heather stands by the door with a smile and swings it open for you. Graciously, she says nothing, only humming a brief tune as you take large strides out of view of your co-workers’ eyes.

—

A familiar wave of panic crashes upon you as you close your car door and step up to the Rogers’ house at four-fifty. It’s a cozy one-story Four Square with a manicured front lawn and tall rose bushes by the steps. The front porch suspends sprawling hanging plants and a swing bench accompanied by two outdoor chairs. Some of Sarah’s outside toys lay scattered by the doormat.

Your finger pushes the bell and you clutch into the bag at your side tightly.

Nothing.

Quickly, you check the address on the text again and step back to get a good look at the numbers to the left of the door. They match. You smooth your dress and try again.

Nothing.

A thousand errant thoughts run cross your mind— he must have given you the wrong address. This is a stranger’s house. It was a trick. He was pulling your leg. Of course he doesn’t like you. Oh god, you have to leave. You’re scrambling from the front steps when the door gets yanked open and Steve is chasing you down.

“Hey!” He calls.

Turning around, you see him apron-clad, trousers on, patterned button up sleeves folded up to his elbows. His hair is in slight disarray and he’s out of breath.

“Is it five already?!” He cries, checking his watch. “I’m sorry, dinner’s not ready—“ A shriek comes from inside the house and Steve whips around to look for it, “Sarah is— come on in, please! She’s very upset with me. I’m sorry. Oh damn it…” He rubs his eyes with the heel of his palm and dejectedly leads you inside.

The smell of butter and tomato sauce is so inviting as it pushes past the heavy stiffness that lingers in the house. Something sweet is in the oven, too. The hardwood path to the kitchen is open and decorated with paintings of nature and pictures of Sarah. Just as warm as the bakery is, the Rogers house is even more intimate. It’s also spotless.

“This shouldn’t take too much longer…” Steve sighs before going silent.

He motions for you to have a seat as he resumes his place at the stove, stirring and peeking into the oven. There are half-rolled meatballs on the other side of the counter and Steve starts washing his hands before looking at them disparagingly. After setting your things down, you wander away from the living room and try to find the source of his exasperation, giving him a moment of privacy.

Sarah is in her room, repeatedly hitting a stuffed bear against a luggage bag when you gently knock on the door. She’s bright red and fuming, yellow butterfly dress crumpled at the hem, knee socks rolled down half-way and at uneven lengths. When she sees you, she screams your name and erupts into tears, smothering her face against your thighs.

Carefully, you kneel down and let her lean on your shoulder. Big droplets roll and collect in the hollow of your collarbone.

“Shhh, sweet girl. I know you’re upset.”

“I-I-I d-don’t don’t wanna g-g-go oh-oh-ohhhh!”

You pick her up and pat her back with a little effort. Her legs dangle down nearly to your shins because she’s got her father’s genes and she’s more than half your size at age six. You walk her slowly into the kitchen and upon seeing her father she presses her cheek to your neck and faces away from him. Steve looks pale and sullen as he rolls the last few meatballs between his two palms. Your heart is on the verge of breaking too. Sarah is breathing heavily, hiccuping in-between, rattling like a maraca.

“Sarah, honey. Let me have a look at you.” You set her down and hold out both your hands. She places hers is them and blink slowly, blue eyes swollen pink. “Are you nervous about going to see your mom?” She nods. “I know you’re going to miss your daddy, honey. But it’s only for one month, remember?”

She opens her mouth to cry but you give her a pointed look- one she’s familiar with- and she stops, waiting for you to finish.

“Your mama loves you, and she’s so excited to spend time with you. She’s going to make sure you have lots of fun. You know that our school has a short summer, right? Know why?”

She nods again, the tears temporarily ceasing as you try to divert her fears with facts. “We have a different calendar.” She says.

“Mhm… so… you’ll be back here in thirty days and guess what?” You smile at her.

“What?”

“Then you’ll be in second grade! You’ll be a big girl in second grade where you’ll get your very own locker!”

After a breath, Sarah giggles finally. A small, short tittering before she pouts again. You poke her with a finger and then point to your bags on the dining room chair. “I have an early birthday present for you. Something for your trip. Can you help me get that brown bag?”

Following her to the chair, the two of you sit cross legged on the floor as she pulls out your gift- a light blue mini-polaroid camera. It was something you’d gotten a few years back but had remained mostly unused and gathering dust on your bookshelf. While you were getting ready to come over, you thought about bringing a gift, but a dessert would have been offensive (Steve being a professional baker and all), and a bottle of wine might have been inappropriate (Sarah being six, you being a lightweight).

At the last minute- the camera caught your eye and you figure it would be a good distraction for Sarah to have during her travels. You also recall her birthday being one of the first days of school- making her one of the youngest in her class. It was perfect.

You teach her how to use it, hanging it around her neck and pressing the on button and watch it whirr and buzz to life. You’d also brought her two extra packs of film. She peeks through the viewfinder curiously and points it at you.

“When you’re ready, push the shutter button here.” You lightly move her finger to the dip and sit back. She peeks into the viewfinder for a second, tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth as she concentrates. You’re laughing when Sarah clicks it and the flash goes off. Immediately, a small white rectangle ejects from the slot and you tug it out for her. She giggles and looks at the plastic, catching the kitchen light on its surface.

“Now we wait!” You say, playfully slapping it on her head before setting it on the counter, “It only takes a few minutes. But how about we take more pictures after dinner? I think your dad needs help setting the table.”

Sarah walks with you, holding the forks and napkins as you bring the knives. She chooses the pitcher of sweet tea from the fridge and fills up three cups with ice before you pour. Steve quietly arranges the freshly baked meatballs on top of the pile of noodles and sauce with care and sets down three steaming plates on the table.

Sarah walks over to him before he can sit down and climbs into his arms when he kneels. Softly, she whispers “I’m sorry, daddy.” And Steve Rogers’ eyes fill up with tears. You tilt your head back so that your own won’t spill over, either.

Dinner is spent happily, the three of you slurp noodles and sip tea. By the end of it, you’re all so full that a single slice of blueberry pie al a mode has to be shared by three people.

Fifteen minutes into The Little Mermaid, Sarah falls asleep next to you. Little breaths escape her body as Steve scoops her up and takes her down the hall. You’ve been sitting on the recliner- a safe choice so that you don’t assume too much, but Sarah climbed up next to you and snuggled into the space by the armrest. When he returns, Steve moves to the edge of the couch and takes a deep breath. You send him a tentative smile, offering him your hand.

He looks unbelievably tired as he takes it.

“Thank you… Really, I--”

You shake your head, “No, I know it’s hard. My mother raised me on her own— she remarried when I was in high school, but trust me… I was tough. You’re just fine. Really.”

He squeezes your hand and you return the gesture, pushing your nerves down as much as possible. Fish are singing in the background, and the only thing illuminating Steve other than the movie is the lamp in the corner of the room. Slowly, as Sebastian the crab leads the chorus of marine wildlife, Steve laces his fingers in yours.

“I hope this is… um.. okay.” He whispers.

Your eyes are fixed on the T.V. “Mmhm.”

Another few minutes pass. “Can I get you anything else? More pie?”

You smile, “I’m okay. Thank you. Do you want help cleaning up?”

“No. No! I’ll do it.”

You blow a raspberry because there’s two pots, a pasta strainer, and a baking sheet, not to mention all those plates and cups and forks piled up in the sink. “Steve, I will have more pie if you let me help with the dishes.”

He rubs the back of his head. “Okay..” he laughs. “You’ve got a deal.”

Because you say it all the time, and because you swear your brain is just a giant spinning wheel of phrases you use in the classroom, you stupidly blurt. “Dill, pickle?”

He bursts into laughter. The sweetest, most joyful sound you’ve heard all night. Maybe ever. He clutches one hand to his torso and throws his head back. “Dill, pickle!”

Steve walks you to your car at eight-thirty. The two of you had shared another hefty slice of blueberry pie together and spent the last hour on the porch- you on the swing, him on the chair- because your conversations were getting too full and loud with laughter and you were afraid of waking Sarah. Peggy would be landing early to get her, about seven. Both father and daughter needed a good night’s sleep.

He takes leisurely steps next to you, both hands tucked in his pocket, chin to his chest with a smile and you find yourself slowing down to match his pace— not yet wanting the night to end. At the curb, you put your hand on your keys but leave them in your purse for now. He leans against the frame of your car and rubs the flutter sleeve of your summer dress lightly between two fingers.

“This is nice.” Steve says, maybe a little bolder than he should have been, but the entire month has been a series of days leading him up the peak of a terrible roller coaster, which tomorrow morning would plummet him into the longest thirty days of his life so far. He hasn’t seen Peggy since Christmas, only able to avoid her because he begs Marnie to take Sarah each time she visits. But tomorrow, promptly at seven, because Peggy is always prompt, he’ll be handing off his little girl with tears in his eyes and throwing himself into work to take his mind off being without her all summer.

Steve tries to find an anchor in the sorrowful sea. The sleeve of your floral yellow dress seems perfectly capable of keeping him still.

You see the desperate look in his eyes, brimming with sadness, worry, even if the edges of it are alight with joy from your time on the porch together. His comment seems less about your dress and more about the time, you think, but say nothing. Maybe he’s not ready— and you don’t expect him to be because all you know of Steve Rogers is just the tip of his iceberg. The weight of him- his grief, love, his complexities, lie much further beneath that blue.

You float there, too, with your own intricacies. Two icebergs melting slowly in the summer.

“Do you, um.. would you like to have lunch with me tomorrow?”

Tomorrow is a teacher workday, and you’ll be in the classroom. He knows that, as he offers. The two choices are either going out to eat during the lunch hour, or him coming into the school to bring you something. You ponder the question for a minute as you memorize the lines of his face. Slowly, you let go of the troubles you’ve kept-- the fear of gossip and rumors. Steve Rogers is sweet. He is caring, he is gentle, loving, strong, respectful. There could be worse men interested in you.

Part of you also knows he would appreciate it, after the morning.

“Yes. I’d really like that.”

“Can I call you when I’m on my way? I’ll bring our daily special if you’re not already sick of my cooking…” He laughs.

“Oh no. Please, feed me more of it!” You respond, rolling your eyes back at the memory of the tangy tomato sauce that had simmered for over an hour. The robust meatballs perfectly paired with the delicate cheese and hand-torn sweet basil sprinkled on top. “Dinner was incredible. I can’t even—Ugh!”

Steve’s hand clutches his torso again as he leans back. “I guess if you hated my cooking we’d have to stop seeing each other.” And suddenly the statement makes both of you stop in your tracks because he’s brought to the forefront the exact kind of thing that you’ve been tiptoeing around all night.

“If that’s... I mean, if that’s okay with you? Us seeing each other?” He rubs the back of his neck bashfully and the two of you stand like teenagers after a first date, still leaning against your car, barely lit by the lights of his front porch.

Inside, Sarah sleeps soundly to the soft melody of a night-time playlist Steve has put on for her. She dreams of a plane ride, her mother’s red lipstick, her father’s watch, the light blue polaroid camera that matches her eyes, and the white plastic picture that she forgot to look at before bed. On the sidewalk outside, her father steps forward, hand cupped underneath her first grade teacher’s chin and places a goodnight kiss to her cheek.

In the morning, your face still sting with the softness of his kiss. Two completely contradictory sensations float over every thought you have- in the shower, brushing your teeth, driving to work, cleaning your classroom. Everywhere you look, you’re invaded with last night’s memory of Steve Rogers’ breath caressing you. The closer it gets to noon, the harder your heart squeezes and pounds.

Seeing each other.

Heather notices your dreamy looks and asks you after the third time you drop a chair and you tell her a white lie—too much wine last night, a hangover. You know inevitably, it’ll be too obvious to hide, with him coming in to eat lunch, but for now you just don’t know how to say it yet:

Seeing each other.

It feels so foreign. You haven’t seen anyone in almost two years. And now suddenly, you’re seeing possibly the most fantastic man to ever grace the Earth. There’s a very real and immediate chance that the both of you are getting caught up in the infatuated period of romanticizing a relationship. You try to ground yourself, but it’s hard when the very ground you stand on trembles at the thought of him. The more you know about him, the more you slip.

He’s been separated and now divorced, he revealed to you last night, for about two years. His whole life is the bakery and Sarah. She dominated the majority of your conversation, a good fixture to keep the mood from straying too far into anything too serious. It kept you from revealing your own baggage, mostly. Not that you had a lot of it. But you never know how people internalize others’ truths.

“You goin’ out for lunch?” Heather asks as she picks up her thermos.

“No, I, uh… I’m having lunch here.” You can hardly believe it’s noon already.

“You ain’t got anythin!” She looks around your desk from the door, and you pinch your lips together.

“S-Steve is b-bringing me something.” You whisper quietly before clapping both your hands over your face. Heather’s gasp makes you peek out from behind your hands and you see that she’s peering down the hall at the sound of footsteps. She ducks out of the door way and stares open-mouthed at you before jerking her thumb to the entrance.

“Girl….!”

You mouth get out to her and she cackles in delight. With a firm wink, she fixes the purse on her hip and struts out of the room, calling, “Well, good afternoon, Mr. Rogers! Y’all have a great lunch, alright?”

Steve enters with a smile and a brown paper bag. He looks just a little more tired than usual, eyes puffier than last night. Instead of crossing the room and holding him, your first instinct, you meet him on the rug and stand on your tiptoes, left hand on his cheek to kiss him chastely on his right. It echoes his gesture from yesterday.

“You’re alright, Steve.” You whisper in his ear.

“Yeah. I’m trying to be.”

He nuzzles his cheek against yours and the two of you stand there before parting. Steve takes out lunch- yogurt, two pressed paninis, a cup of fruit. It’s small talk at first, about his morning and then yours, the steady and predictable grind of work, you looking forward to Friday afternoon when you officially start your summer break. You planned on visiting your family for about a week in July.

You tell him more about your family- your mother raising you and your brother on her own. He was closer to her, staying in town and making a living in the city, starting his own family. Silly stories were shared about both your childhoods- Steve was sickly and often picked on, usually finding himself battered into a pulp in Brooklyn alleyways. You went through a rebellious phase, chain-smoked, skipped school, hitchhiked around town. Neither of you could believe what the other was saying. Him- small?! You- goth?!

Steve roars with laughter. You tell him you may still be in your rebellious phase- not wanting to move back home any time soon.

But, as you predicted, he asks the inevitable.

“So why did you move out here?”

You bite your lip, “For a partner…” you begin, “I moved here with my long term boyfriend, who got into the Ph.D program at the university.”

Steve listens as he finishes the last of his yogurt, wiping the remainder with a cut of cantaloupe.

“I had just finished my Masters and student teaching, was still interviewing for jobs… it uh, it fell apart early on after the move.”

“Why? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Your fruit cup begins to resemble sludge as your fork smashes against the chunks of watermelon and honeydew until they’re disfigured. Steve watches you intently, tilting his head.

“He… wanted to get married. Wanted kids. We’d been together for three years and it was always something we would eventually do— but he just became really convinced about starting a family.”

“And you weren’t ready?”

“Sort of.” You confess. “I had a bit of an awakening after spending a semester student teaching. After a lot of thought about my own childhood, being around all of these children who had such tough lives and required so much from me as their teacher... it came together. I realized I don’t want kids, Steve. That was the-- y’know— that was it.”

The corner of his mouth twitches a bit as he places his hands awkwardly in his lap. It must feel so strange to him, you think as you watch him slowly look around your classroom, disheveled in the middle of stacking desks and rolling up rugs. Everything is cared for here, deliberately put together to foster growth in twenty-five children every year… but he looks at you, and he sees the finality, the seriousness of your revelation: you didn’t want any children of your own.

He stops himself from saying those cliched, callous statements that people offhandedly throw at women who decide they don’t want children. But he can’t help still thinking them. You’re still so young, you might change your mind.

“Oh.” Is all he can summon.

You watch him almost physically recoil and your eyes slip shut, the disappointment settling down your body to gather into a tight knot in your gut. Maybe this was for the best— getting the truth out in the open before the both of you lead each other on too far. He wasn’t a young boy dating for kicks; he was an adult man, with a daughter, who had divorced his wife because she worked too much.

You fall asleep on the couch in front of lesson plans at least three times a week.

The sharp bite of truth mixes on your tongue with the sweet memory of his kiss on your cheek. Any future you might have with Steve Rogers would be as a mother to Sarah. You just admitted to him that you had no desire to be one.

You manage a dry laugh as you begin to gather the trash into the bin next to your foot. This was the downfall of your last relationship, and your very own mother had advised you that any man you might date will want a child sooner or later. Steve, already having one, was ahead of the curve.

“We- uh,” a single chuckle escapes, “We started something we couldn’t finish, huh?”

Steve blinks from his reverie, “No!” he helps, but it’s a futile attempt to salvage your feelings, “No, that’s not.. That’s not what’s happening.”

“Look at you, Steve. You’re leaned so far away from me.”

He does look at himself, and you’re right. Unconsciously, Steve had tilted back so far he looks like he’s just finished pushing himself away from the table. He’s at a loss for words because he doesn’t understand it, he doesn’t know how you can be so wonderful to your students, to his own daughter, right in front of his eyes over and over again… yet, you don’t want to be a mother. He doesn’t understand because being a father has been his greatest joy.

“You would make a great mother!” Steve blurts, “I’ve seen you… with Sarah. With all your students.”

You both wince, because he’s done it. He’s callously thrown that dismissive statement people tend to throw at women who don’t want children. His head is a mess. The complicated thing that was beginning to seem simple in his life has returned to being complicated again. This time, it’s so layered he doesn’t know how to even begin to look at it.

On the one hand, he can fool himself –assuming the relationship works out—and say that technically, Sarah isn’t your child, so you get what you want. But he also knows that any person who doesn’t want children is a person who doesn’t want to pledge their lives to the obligation of a child. Bucky and Natasha have often reminded him of those exact feelings. Furthermore, your not wanting a child was because of your own dedication to other children… to your work.

He’s vaguely reminded of Peggy and her dedication to her work.

His brain feels like how your fruit cup looks: slush.

“Wait.” Steve whispers suddenly, leaning forward. “I’m sorry I said that— I shouldn’t have. I don’t want to be the kind of person who invalidates you.”

He calls your name so softly it almost breaks your heart.

“I really like you. I’m not trying to change your mind. I… I don’t know what to do… but I really like you.” It brings a small smile to your lips.

“I like you too, Steve.”

“I just want to spend more time with you. Can we just .. see where this goes? At the very least, we’ll have this summer together… I…” he pauses, reaching across the table and linking his fingers through yours, like he did yesterday evening. It feels so good, and warm, and you sigh almost contentedly.

Steve takes a breath, “I don’t want this to end.”

That’s it, he thinks. This is him following Bucky’s advice, shooting his shot. This is Steve, laying himself down not knowing what will happen after summer, or even next week, or in five seconds, as he waits for your reply. All he knows is that he told the truth, with every fiber of him, he wants to keep seeing you. He wants to be in the presence of that incredible smile, the big heart, the warm laugh, so pure it lets him forget that he’s thirty-five and divorced.

It’s him, being selfish.

He stares at his shoes and says a prayer before taking the chance to glance across the desk. Your heart bellows in your chest before it drops from the incline. You take the plunge too.

Leaning over your desk, pencils clattering as the cup holder spills over the surface, you press your lips to his and whisper.

“Me neither.”

Next Chapter

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #marvel #mcu #fanfiction #self insert #slow like honey heli0s

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imaginesmai · 5 years

Text

Tom Holland-Mushy Pancakes

This is kind of an AU, frat boy Tom, or fuck boy! I hope you like him. I’ve read a lot of au’s about this and mob Tom. Maybe I’ll try the latest soon!

Plot: morning sex and breakfast in bed is the best way to wake up.

Warnings: Half-smut

Tom woke up early. The usual noise that filled his frat house on Saturday’s mornings was non-existent, and he was met with a peaceful silence. His eyes were flurry and his head felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. Foggy memories of a bottle of jack and a joint in his hand for the most of the night filled his mind, but not in the way they usually did.

Instead of some random chick in his arms, your body was wrapped around his, your legs intertwined and forehead pressed against his back. He smiled because of the events of the previous night, where you two had decided to have a quiet ‘party’, with alcohol, weed and some bad films, just the two of you; not that he needed anything else. Tom didn’t remember having more fun in his life.

“Morning princess” he said, his voice coarse. You didn’t make any signal of hearing him, and he supposed you were still sleep.

Carefully, he pried your arm off his side, the one that had been resting on his belly. You muttered something in your sleep, but quickly became calm when Tom gave you the pillow to hug. Sitting in the bed, he wiped his eyes with the back of his hands and let the hangover take a few minutes of his morning.

He wasn’t used to being awake that early; yet a lot of things had changed over the past months. After he decided to start a relationship with you, his life style had changed. He was no longer the wild boy that went from party to rave, staying with you cuddling in the couch being his new favourite activity. It wasn’t as if his life was bad before you; some drugs, that now he could share with you, plenty of alcohol and crazy parties with his brothers and friends. With you, it was probably the same; only that he found a meaning to all of that.

Your laugh played on his mind on repeat as he rolled out of bed and padded his way into the bathroom while stretching. After his morning routine, he found himself pretty generous. Or in love. Yeah, he felt, and was, pretty in love with you. So he hurried downstairs into the kitchen and began pulling things out for breakfast.

He was pouring two cups of coffee when the door opened again, and Harrison came around with his batman printed pyjamas.

“Dude” Harrison said confused with a tilted head and a smile. He knew you were staying on their house for the weekend, and didn’t expect seeing Tom out of his room any time soon. A girl over meant not Tom for hours, not doing breakfast for two “Are you… doing breakfast? In pyjamas?”

“Yeah”

The blonde walked across the cold tiles of the kitchen until he was in front of the food. There were pancakes with pieces of fruit around, your healthy ways making your way around the frat house, who were used to take out and cheap burgers. Even little Paddy, when he came around, chose apples over cheetos. The sweet smell of bacon hit his nose, and his stomach growled.

Before he could snatch something, Tom pinched the skin of his hand harshly, and Harrison squealed in pain. A red strain appeared, and he widened his eyes; Tom only smirked.

“Hey!” he cradled his hand on his chest, rubbing the sore spot. “Why did you do that, asshole?!”

“That’s for Y/N”

“And?” Harrison tried to take a piece of fruit, yet his other hand received the same treatment. “Come one! You’re not going to eat all of that!”

“Maybe” Tom shrugged, filling two cups with orange juice.

“Give me something” Harrison whined. “Why can Y/N have breakfast and not me?”

“Do you have tits?”

“W-What?”

“Do you have pussy? Did we fuck last night? Or yesterday’s morning in the shower? Can you-“

“Okay, okay! Shut up, that’s disgusting!”

Tom chuckled and placed the food in two trays. He was silent for a moment and then decided to do something for the first time of his life; taking one of the fake roses one of the boys had picked up to decorate the place, he placed it besides your coffee. After a final look to check that everything was perfect, he picked them up.

“Are you actually going for the breakfast in bed?” Harrison asked, mouth full of cereals. He had one box on his chest, hugging it almost as if he was afraid Tom was going to take that too.

“Mh. We don’t have anything to do today, might spend the day in”

He didn’t wait for an answer, walking out of the kitchen balancing both trays on his arms. Five seconds later, he pushed open the bedroom room and felt a foreign flutter that lead to goose bumps. His eyes fell on your sleeping body, naked back facing him. Some love marks on your neck for last night could be seen too, and feeling only grew bigger.

Tom set the tray down and crawled on the bed, pulling the sheet down and pressing kisses on your smooth skin. You still didn’t move and he smiled, moving his kisses up and down. Finally, he reached your belly and you stirred with a small hum of approval. He moved quickly and positioned himself in front of you, doing his second favourite thing in your relationship; being the first thing you saw when you woke up.

A small grin made its way to your lips, and you opened your eyes slowly.

“Hey” you said, your voice heavy and rough. “What are you doing up?”

“I thought I could give you a treat” Tom pecked your nose, and you giggled.

“Oh, that’s new. Have you done something bad?”

“What? No!” he laughed, and crawled out of bed. Then, he pulled the tray over and placed it over your lap. “Breakfast?”

You propped up at the sound of food, careful to not throw over the trail. A small giggle left your lips, and Tom smiled proudly. He couldn’t decide if he preferred the moans of last night or the giggles in the morning.

“How long have you been up?” you asked, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you turned back to face him.

“Not for too long” he said softly, his eyes moving from yours to your lips. He pressed his lips to yours in a quick kiss, before you could moan about bad morning breathe. “Since it’s one of our last weekends exam-free, I thought I could give you a treat”

“Now I feel like Tessa” you joked.

“My two favourite girls, we can go and see her today”

You hummed happily as you crunched on a piece of bacon. Once you took a few sips of your coffee and made sure Tom hadn’t put salt on it as a part of a prank, you picked up your knife and fork and dipped them into what were possibly the fluffiest pancakes you’d ever seen. Bits of banana and blueberry still steamed from your fork and, as you put it in your mouth, you almost moaned at the taste.

Since you had appeared in Tom’s life, he had become much more better at cooking. Nikki said that, if you guys ever broke up, she would have to keep you in a basement to keep his boys healthy. How many wonders could love make.

“You like them?” Tom laughed, his coffee between his hands. “Do you need a moment alone with the pancakes?”

“I might” you nodded savouring each and every bite you took “These-these pancakes would keep the whole town up if you opened a diner. Who would have thought the same boy that set fire to the kitchen boiling water could do this”

Tom rolled his eyes, remembering the first time you met. He was still on his dorm, not in the house, and tried to boil some water to cook something healthy for once. Thirty minutes later, everyone was on the street and the building was on fire. You had sat beside him, had known it had been him and that it could get him expulsed; still, you only smiled when the police asked you and told them it was one of the first floors.

“Will you ever let that go? What do you need? I’m already your personal male escort”

“Yeah, I have Tom Holland as my male escort, what else could I want” you laughed, and pecked his lips.

When you teared away, there was a small piece of blueberry on the corner of his lip. It was a small piece of fruit, something you could have cleaned with the napkin or with the tip of your finger.

There was something you had learned with Tom. He was not only a fuck boy that loved sex more than air to breath, but also that his favourite type of sex was morning one. And that only a look could be enough reason to fuck your brains out.

A lick on his lips to clean the strain of blueberries was more than enough. One minute and forty second later, you were under him.

“I love when you go to sleep naked princess” Tom purred, hands tracing over your stomach before making their way to your breasts, cupping the flesh in his hands. “Gives me perfect access to you.”

His hands massaged your breasts, fingers lightly pinching at your nipples as he peppered kisses along the column of your neck, grinned when you arched your back into his touch, moaning with your lips closed.

“Tom, I’m hungry” you said, yet didn’t get your hand out of his hair. After that, it would be probably full of knots that you would have to undo, while he complained like a baby. Its softness was worthy. “I want to eat, let’s wait until-“

One hand abandoned your breast to skirt down your body, fingertips lightly dancing over the skin, causing gossebumps to erupt in their wake.

“First lesson you taught me in breakfast” he muttered against your neck, his tongue poking out and wetting the spot he was torturing. “Don’t put the syrup too soon unless you want mushy pancakes. Guess we’ll have to be quick”

His fingers glided down your stomach, tracing a line where you panties would had been continuing down over your thighs, around the back of your knee before lifting it slightly, hooking it over his forearm. Your protest didn’t get to leave your mouth as he began to place wet kissed into the skin of your shoulder, grinding his length into your non covered pussy.

“You’re an asshole” you pouted.

Tom peered up at you, striking brown lusted eyes meeting yours before a grin spread over his lips.

“Yeah, an asshole that you love”

A small smile played at your lips as Tom leaned down to kiss you, nothing like the peck you had shared when you had woken up. It was slow and sensual, completely matching the mood of the morning. His lips gliding over yours as his tongue stroked against yours. His hips continued rolling as you mewled into his mouth. He broke the kiss to choke down a moan when your clit hit the tip of his cock, the wetness making him shudder.

“So good” he moaned. “Could be doing this all day”

“No one is stopping you” you nipped at his neck, your hips not stopping. “Although probably the pancakes-“

He interrupted you with another kiss. One of his hands came around to tenderly hold your throat, thumb tracing over your jaw as he pressed just slightly over your pulse point. It was nothing dominating, Tom was over the point to prove anything to you. It was true that he had enjoyed the whole dom and sub play always, but with you it was different.

Tom only wanted to cherish your body and adore every part of it.

“I love you” he whined, wanting to be inside you but needing to make sure it was not fucking. It was him demonstrating you how much he loved you.

“Me too, Tom”

Needless to say, he proved it to you very, very, thoughtfully. What better than morning sex and mushy pancakes?

Want to know more about me? Here is my Masterlist! Feedback is always appreciated!!

Tom Tags:

@delicately-important-trash

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom hollando one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland au #fratboy!tom #avengers #avengers imagine #peter parker #peter parker imagine #spiderman #spiderman imagine

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pasteljeon · 5 years

Text

Peppermint Mocha (m)

Summary: A week in the college life with seven boyfriends.

Pairing: Namjoon/Reader, Jin/Reader, Yoongi/Reader, Hoseok/Reader, Jimin/Reader, Taehyung/Reader, Jungkook/Reader

Warnings: fluff fest, you are advised to visit the dentist following consumption, sub!jungkook, sub!jimin, sub!taehyung, switch!hobi, sub!namjoon (ish), sub!jin, sub!yoongi, handjobs, cock rings, vibrators (anal), oral (male), dry humping, multiple orgasms

Length: 4.9k

Notes: WHEW i finally finished shdsskd i’m never using google docs ever again, formatting never saves and i had to manually fix the spacing and italicizing i’m scarred for life. i hope this lives up to expectations and i’m sorry it took so long but now i’m gonna disappear for a bit to do midterms lmao lmk what you think!!

College!AU - Film major!Jin (Master’s), photography major!Tae, graphic design & photography double major!JK, philosophy & history double major!Joon, performing dance major!Hobi, contemporary dance major!Jimin, music composition major!Yoongi, unspecified major!reader

Monday, 8:01 AM

“Baby.” A small moan escaped your throat as you snuggled in closer, chasing the warmth that tugged at you.

“Baby, you need to wake up.” Gentle fingers brushed at your cheeks and you nuzzled into the touch as palms cupped your face. “Baby.” Amusement laced his tone, and you knew he was smiling down at you.

Peeking through one eye, lips pouting as you lifted one finger to poke into those infuriatingly gorgeous dimples, Namjoon grinned. “Time for class, baby girl.”

Groaning, you let yourself drop back onto the mattress, watching as he stood. He was already fully dressed for the day, with dark washed jeans, a fitted black turtleneck, silver wristwatch and thin framed lenses that perched on his nose. You melted a bit when he leaned in to press a kiss against your temple. The man looked like he’d stepped out of a fall edition magazine. “Coffee’s on the table, see you at 2.” Namjoon grabbed his keys from the nightstand, slinging his messenger bag over his shoulder as he made his forever timely morning exit.

“Namjoonie-hyung gone?” You hummed in response as you slipped from the bed, dropping a quick kiss to Jimin’s cheek as you made your way to the bathroom. “Where’s Kook?”

“Still sleeping,” he replied, trailing after you. You relaxed into his hold as you brushed your teeth, him resting his chin on the grove of your shoulder, arms wrapped snugly around your stomach. Moving through the remainder of your skin care routine, Mondays were always a little more bearable with Jimin playfully swiping cream onto your nose, running a brush gently through your hair as you washed your face.

“Remember to drink lots of water, Minnie,” you said as you smoothed back the fabric of his sweater. He kissed you softly, fingers tangling in your locks briefly before he let go, smiling. “See you tonight, jagiya.”

8:15 AM

The mattress dipped lightly as you stroked his cheek, biting back a grin at the plankboard position he liked sleeping in when he was alone. His nose scrunched as you nudged him, letting out a grunt as he turned his head.

“Kookie, it’s time to wake up,” you sang quietly, one hand slipping beneath his covers and running down the length of his bare chest, enjoying the ridges as you squeezed him gently.

He let out a choked gasp, eyes fluttering open instantly as he squirmed. Sleepy cocoa-coloured irises peered at you petulantly. “___ - ” He fell back with a strangled moan, voice thick with lethargy as you stroked him slowly.

“Morning, baby,” you cooed. His cock was heavy and throbbing, precum soaking the front of his boxer briefs as you thumbed his head. Yoongi often remarked at how much joy you took in watching the beautiful man fall to pieces so early in the morning, doe eyes watering as they begged you silently for release.

“___,” Jungkook whimpered, unable to resist thrusting into your touch as you twisted your wrist, your name escaping in a pained whisper. Wicked, his gaze murmured reverently.

“You know you love it,” you whispered, breath warm as you kissed along the curve of his neck.

“I love you,” he moaned, hips jerking as you milked him. You gave him one last squeeze, smirking as he blinked up at you hopefully, cock softening and twitching in overstimulation.

“Maybe later,” you promised, retracting your hand and wiping yourself down. Jungkook looked disappointed but nodded, sitting up. Cringing at the stickiness that stained his abdomen, he kicked off the blankets, yawning as he stretched.

“Join me for a shower?” He peeked at you coyly. You laughed, following him to the bathroom as he stripped down and waited for the water to warm. Washing your hands quickly, you leaned up to kiss his cheek.

“Tonight. I’m already ready. Hobi dropped off some muffins. Want one?” You called over your shoulder.

“Is there any banana milk left?” Jungkook poked his head from the curtains, eyes wide with anticipation.

He ducked back down at your giggled response, grinning happily to himself as he reached for the shampoo.

8:20 AM

“What time will you guys be back today?” Jin asked as you zipped up your boots.

“5:30 ish,” Jungkook answered, propping the door open as he waited for you patiently. Shrugging on a jacket, you hugged the film major tightly.

“I’m cooking tonight. Bring back some glass noodles on your way back?” You pressed a kiss against Jin’s jaw. “Will do, babe.”

8:30 AM

“Another day, another one bites the dust.” You looked up, chewing on a chocolate danish, to see Ahri staring longingly at where a familiar mop of dark hair chatting in the line.

“What?” You said, swallowing. Your friend pointed at you accusingly. “This is exactly what I’m talking about. Seven of the most gorgeous guys to have probably walked this damn earth and they’re all devoted to a single girl. Unbelievable. And you’re just as oblivious as ever. The source of all envy.”

You blinked. “You mean Jungkook?”

The cafe bustled with motion, early as it was, and you finished off your snack as you watched the man in question chatter with two females you recognized from his photography class. Propping your chin up, you gazed at him fondly. “He is quite handsome, isn’t he?”

“You -” She groaned. “I can’t believe you.”

“Hey,” he reached up to thumb the corner of your mouth, wiping at the smear of chocolate, eyes crinkling as he smiled. He took the seat next to you, sliding a cup of jasmine tea across the table. “Thank you.”

“Careful, it’s hot,” he warned, though too late as you cringed back, pouting instantly. “Damn.”

Jungkook huffed a laugh, dabbing at your chin with some tissues before helping you clean up the table.

“You lucky girl,” Ahri sighed, shaking her head as she swept off to Stats.

Jungkook jogged along to catch up as he took his camera from you and slung it over his neck. “What was she saying?”

“Just the truth,” you replied, smiling as he shot you an adorably confused look, settling in the third row.

10:20 AM

It started drizzling halfway through the lecture and Jungkook insisted on swathing you in his triply oversized hoodie before kissing your cheek and parting ways at the Arts Building to his digital media course.

You waited in the atrium, sipping your now cold jasmine tea while scrolling through Tumblr, bag resting at your feet.

“Baby~” Warm arms cradled your body as you turned to see Taehyung’s familiar boxy grin.

“Hi Tae,” you said as you restrapped your bag. “How was Bogum today?” His digital editing professor was notoriously picky but everyone knew he had a soft spot for the outgoing and charismatic blond.

“Great!” Taehyung beamed. The two of you made your way to your shared class leisurely, his arm slipping around your waist as he held you close, matching your smaller strides despite his obvious height advantage. “I think he’s really going to like my next collection.”

“It’s looking fantastic already,” you hummed as you climbed the staircase. His voice was lilting as he teased, “That’s because you’re biased, jagiya.”

“Oh, Tae,” you said, peering up at him. His breath caught in his throat as he stumbled on a step, too fixated on the way your lashes framed your gorgeous russet orbs, the affection glowing in them had him reeling back. “He’s going to love it. I think it’ll surprise him a bit, but it’s so abstract and so you. Your collection embodies so much of who you are and how you see the world. How can anyone dislike something as pure as that?”

“___!” Taehyung blurted, clutching his chest. “Fuck, you can’t just do that! I wasn’t ready!”

You laughed aloud, hugging him hard as the students crossing you gave you a knowing smile. You waved back at them shyly. You’d forgotten how popular your boys were on campus, and how well known you all were.

“I love you, you know that?” He murmured, and suddenly his eyes were hooded and dark as he stared down at you, tongue coming out to swipe at his lower lip. You flushed, burying your face in his chest as his long fingers curled around your waist.

“Stop, Tae,” you whined, voice muffled. Taehyung grinned, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “Just teasing, baby. Though you know I’d love nothing more than to drop everything and fuck you senseless right here and now.”

You squirmed, even as you said breathlessly, “Bet you wouldn’t.” Taehyung had a streak of exhibitionism in him, evident in the countless times he’d taken you against the wall with all the boys hungrily drinking in the two of you, or at parties where he’d fingered you beneath the table, or that one time you’d ridden him in full view of the bar.

“I wish I could,” he admitted, drawing back slightly to ease the heat. His hand moved to rest at a more appropriate height as you resumed your walk. “But the lecture’s about to start and you know how anal Jimin and Namjoon-hyung will get if we missed it again.”

“That was all your fault,” you harrumphed. Taehyung pushed open the double doors and watched with a grin as you busied yourself with unpacking your notebook and printed slides. “You loved it, baby. Don’t lie.”

You shrugged. “I did, actually.”

12:20 PM

“What do you want to do for lunch today, baby? 8Island?” Hoseok pushed back his sweaty fringe, still patting himself down with a towel as he smiled up at from where you lounged on one of the black stage props set at the corner of the studio.

“What are you in the mood for?” You countered, popping another gushers from the packet you stole from Taehyung earlier. Wandering over, you fed the dancer one as he gave himself a quick shake, grinning when you recoiled from the stray droplets splashing onto your clothes.

“Hobi!” You complained. Hoseok laughed, catching your wrist as you shoved at his chest playfully. He dipped his head to kiss you slowly, his tongue ran over the seam of your lips lazily.

Just as his fingers trailed to grip the hem of your sweater, his stomach growled loudly.

“Fuck,” Hoseok groaned, releasing you reluctantly as his head fell to the crook of your shoulder in defeat. “Okay, yeah, food first.”

Triumphantly, you happily relinquished the last of your gushers to the disgruntled male as you rummaged in your bag for a hair tie.

Hoseok leaned against you, body lax as you ran a hand through his damp locks, combing gently before tying them a messy man bun.

“Let’s go to the cafe,” you said, helping him up. “I have to finish my essay.”

5:40 PM

“Welcome back, baby.” You dropped a kiss onto the film major’s offered cheek as you breezed past the open kitchen and collapsed onto the couch, your bag dropping like a tonne of bricks at the side.

“How was your day?” Wrestling yourself from Jungkook’s hoodie, you padded over to the laundry room to toss it in the basket before wriggling into a clean black pullover. It drifted mid-thigh and you smiled to yourself as you buried your face into the fabric, the faint lingering scent of Invictus, Yoongi’s favourite cologne, had you sighing happily.

“It was good,” you said finally as you climbed back onto the couch. “Profs went through practice midterms and I finished the first draft of my marketing proposal. Oh! And Tae wants you to take another look at his project and do another critique when he gets back today.”

Jin let out an audible groan at that, straightening from where he’d been searching for the bottle of soy sauce that seemed to have mysteriously vanished. “Not again. That boy is way too worried. How many times do we have to tell him it looks great before he stops biting his teeth and just hands the thing in?”

You tiptoed over to swipe a taste of the sauce he was mixing. “He just needs a little more confidence. Give it to him, will you baby?” Jin caught your waist as you tried to slip by, nipping at your fingers, his smile growing at the way your beautiful laughter rung in the space.

“Of course.” He peppered tiny kisses down the curve of your neck, biting down softly - not enough to sustain any real break in skin but enough to send you squirming away.

“How’s your thesis coming along?” You asked as you returned to your seat. Propping open your laptop and tearing open a new box of cookies from Jungkook’s (not-so-secret) snack stash. You’d cracked his code early on and would wheedle any of your lovers nearby with your infamous puppy dog eyes to fetch them from the very top cabinet the male put them in.

Not even Jungkook himself could resist your charms, often resigning himself to some silent grumbling and a pout that was easily solved when you kissed him with that beam of yours.

“It’s … coming along,” Jin answered with a sigh. “Looks like I’m going to have to ask Joon for some more ideas soon.”

“I’m home.” A familiar voice, edged with exhaustion and hint of crankiness, had you bounding to the door to meet Yoongi who was shaking out his mint-coloured locks from the rain-filled trek.

“Jagi,” he said, smiling tiredly. You slid your arms around him from where he’d unzipped his jacket, nuzzling his chest. The composition major shrugged off his coat carelessly, hanging it up to dry quickly before re-wrapping himself around you, a soft exhale whispering through your hair as he reveled in your warmth.

“Long day?” You asked.

“It’s always a long day without you baby,” Yoongi murmured. His lips twitched knowingly when you whined. It wasn’t often that he was this cheesy, but he had to admit he took great delight the way you’d flush every time.

“Wanna take a nap,” he said absently. “Join me?”

“Two hours max!” Jin warned from where he was preparing his ingredients for the night.

“Noodles are in the plastic bag next to my laptop!” You called as Yoongi tugged you into his room. As he drew the curtains, you exchanged his hoodie for a shirt, clambering onto the bed and crawling beneath the sheets.

His leg slipped between yours as he curled into you. You kissed his temple, smoothing over his tresses until his breathing evened out.

“Sweet dreams, baby.”

9 PM

The room was silent when you woke, darkness pressing on all sides as you rubbed your eyes.

You startled when you turned your head to see Yoongi’s dark-coloured orbs luminous in stray moonlight, watching you. He was propped up on one arm, his other resting at your hip.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” You whispered, yawning.

“You looked so peaceful,” he said softly, reaching up to tuck a stray tendril behind your ear. “Besides, hyung checked in and said they can wait another ten minutes.”

“How’re you feeling?” Your fingers twined with his, and he smiled, kissing your knuckles. “Better. A bit refreshed.”

“I’m glad,” you said drowsily. Yoongi couldn’t resist. You looked so adorable, still half-asleep, and he rolled on top of you, arms bracketing your face as he leaned down to kiss you. His lips were gentle, chapped but warm as he made out with you languidly.

I love you, he wanted to say, but his voice caught in his throat. You reached up, thumbing his cheekbones, and when he turned to nuzzle your palm with that conflicted look of his, you raised your head up to kiss him again, pressing yourself close against his heat as his arms came around to hold you fast. I know, your breath ghosted across his ear and he shuddered, pinning you down once more.

His chest rose and fell quickly and his heart seized. “I’m - you -” He struggled to speak, but you pulled him down until your lashes tickled his, and you said nothing as your lips moved to meet his forehead. Instead, his elbows collapsed and he crashed into you, head sinking to the crook of your shoulder, and you cradled him until he could breathe again.

Tuesday

9:20 AM

[09:21] ___💍: hi

[09:23] ___💍: i wanna suck your dick

Shit, his pants tightened instantly, and Jungkook shut his eyes briefly.

[09:24] baby bun 🐰: noona please, i’m in class!!

His fingers clenched, and he shifted awkwardly in his seat. The girl next to him - he’d already forgotten her name, they change on such a regular basis he didn’t even bother anymore, not that he cared enough to begin with - leaned over and whispered, “Hey, are you okay?”

“Uh - y-yeah,” Jungkook said weakly, edging away as he readjusted his laptop from where it rested on his thighs. He flipped his phone down, away from the girl’s sharply curious eyes, and tried to refocus back to the lecture.

[09:26] ___💍: bet you’d taste fucking delicious

[09:26] baby bun 🐰: noona, please!! don’t do this, i have a presentation next class and i don’t have extra pants!!

[09:27] ___💍: meet me at 1c12, rye hall

Jungkook swallowed thickly, fingers trembling as he typed his response.

[09:28] baby bun 🐰: okay

12:05 PM

“Well, someone looks like they had a good time,” Taehyung singsonged as Jungkook stumbled out of the room, knees weak and wobbly, expression dazed as he held the door frame to steady himself.

You followed, lips swollen, a satisfied smile playing on them as you stood on your tippy toes, leaning in to whisper something that had the arts major sucking in a breath as his eyes widened. Your hand squeezed his shoulder briefly before you nudged him.

The two of you watched with amusement as Jungkook dragged himself toward his lab, nearly smashing into a pillar on the way.

“I want a turn,” Taehyung said suddenly, amber orbs gleaming as he pulled you close. “Or, better yet, ride my face and I’ll make you cum ten times harder than you did him.”

“Cruel,” you said breathlessly as he shut the door behind him. He backed you onto the long lecture desks with dark eyes.

“And what you did to poor Kookie wasn’t?” Taehyung mocked. He gripped your waist, lifting you onto the table, and your ankles crossed behind his ass to push him flush to you.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” you murmured against his lips.

“Then trust me baby,” he suckled purpled blooms against your collarbone, “This won’t be the last.”

3:40 PM

You admired the side profile of your lover, his newly dyed silver locks swept to the side, the way he pushed his glasses up, squinting at the board.

“Why do you keep looking at me, jagiya,” Jimin whined under his breath, cheeks ripening as he darted a shy glance at you.

“Do I need a reason to stare at my beautiful boyfriend?” You shot back playfully. He blushed, biting his lower lip as he bent down to scribble something into his notebook.

Your hand crept to your phone, and you hid your grin when Jimin jolted, doubling over with a gasp.

“Fuck,” he whimpered, and from your angle, you could see the considerable tent he was sporting in his tight jeans.

“Hands off, baby,” you drawled, looking bored as you noted down slides.

“Noona, noona, please,” Jimin pleaded brokenly, trying to keep his voice down. Luckily, on these days, you’d very strategically occupy a back corner where it was suitably secluded and far from prying eyes.

His hands balled at his thighs, nails digging into his skin as he moaned shakily.

“Colour?” You murmured. He mewled out a timid green, and his head promptly fell to the table, eyes rolling back as you tapped the highest setting. His skin prickled, electricity arcing through his spine and he writhed in his seat, hips stuttering as he came dry.

“No, no, no, no, no,” Jimin cried, fingers trembling as he reached for you. “Please, noona!”

“Shh, baby,” you soothed him, brushing away the tears that had pooled at the edges of his eyes, “You’ll get your reward tonight. You’re such a good boy, aren’t you? A good boy for noona?”

Jimin nodded eagerly, sniffling lightly. “Jiminie’s a good boy! Jiminie’s the best boy, isn’t he?”

“Of course,” you said, kissing his temple. “The very best.”

6:20 PM

“You just love to wreck them, don’t you?” Hoseok mused from where he sat, thighs wide apart as he leaned back into the chair.

“I love to wreck you too,” you reminded him mildly. Jimin laid beneath you, he looked utterly fucked out, lips bruised and plump from abuse, body littered with lilac galaxies, cum painting the sheets.

You sank down on him and he keened, voice high and weak as he climaxed, your name like a prayer.

“Not today, baby.” His tone was guttural, arm snaking around your bare torso as he yanked your head up to meet his smoldering gaze.

“Today, I’ll be the one wrecking you.”

Wednesday

10 AM

“Uh -” Namjoon stared at you blankly. His nose was red and dry, throat itching.

He sneezed.

“I think I’m sick.”

8 PM

His door creaked open, a sliver of light illuminating his pale face as he peeked out from the room.

“Jagiya,” he called out faintly. You perked up instantly, abandoning your station next to Jin, the eldest crying out in indignation as your consol jerking accidently shoved his vehicle off the rainbow bridge.

“Hey baby,” you cooed, running a hand through his locks, matted with sweat. Namjoon leaned into your cool palm, moaning tiredly at the brief respite.

“Jin made some soup,” you told him. “You should get some liquids in you. Why don’t you take a hot shower while I make something light for you to eat?”

Namjoon nodded, wordlessly following your suggestion as he ambled off toward the ensuite bathroom.

“How’s he doing?” Jimin popped up next to you, eyebrows wrinkled worriedly. He peered into the pitch-dark room, eyeing the rumpled blankets and mountain of tissues piled on the drawer next the bed.

“He’ll be okay with a few days of rest and plenty of water,” you reassured him. “Hobi, will you grab the thermometer? I want to check his temperature before giving him any medication.”

In the background, you heard Jin curse loudly before throwing his controller onto the couch.

“Okay,” he declared. “I’m done with this shit. Give me the thermostat, Hoseok. I’ll be the one nursing Joon, you incompetent fools!”

Both you and Jimin raised an eyebrow, looking at the eldest dryly.

Jin shrunk back slightly. “Ah - except for you, of course, baby! You’re the only other 10 here, everyone else is still an 8!”

A loud sneeze rung audibly from the showers, and the film major took advantage of the momentary distraction to scamper to the kitchens to check up on his soup.

Hoseok returned shortly after, blinking as he held up the transparent measuring tool. “So … who’s doing this again?”

You sighed, taking it from him. “I am.”

Thursday

4:20 PM

“One grande cinnamon mocha and a venti coffee black, please,” you said distractedly, fumbling for your card. Yoongi chuckled beside you, already tapping his credit. “I got it.”

Your phone buzzed in your pocket as the two of you moved to wait at the side.

“Hi baby,” his voice croaked. You smiled, mouthing Namjoon at Yoongi’s wordless head tilt. “Hi. How’re you feeling? Any better?”

There was some shuffling, and you could tell he moved the speaker to the side to blow his nose. “A bit,” he said when he returned. “I miss you. When are you going to be home tonight?”

Your insides warmed at his clinginess, the kind that would only really appear when he was sick. He was so cute. “I just finished my last class. I promised Yoongi I’d visit the studio today though, so I’ll be back in an hour max, okay? Remember to drink lots of warm water and rest as much as you can.”

“Okay,” Namjoon said obediently. You chatted a little longer as you told him of your day thus far, your phone squished between your shoulder and ear as you sipped your drink.

“You should go home,” Yoongi said casually. Though he seemed concentrated in his task of carefully placing the plastic lid onto his coffee, you knew he was disappointed by the way his shoulders dropped slightly.

“He’ll be okay,” you said amusedly. The mint-haired composer looked surprised as you slipped your hand into his. “C’mon, babe. I want to hear the new track you’re working on!”

Yoongi smiled down at your intertwined fingers, a tinge of pink scoring across his cheeks. “... Okay.”

9:10 PM

“Hey.” Your voice was soft as you settled onto the bed next to him. Namjoon peered up at you blearily, throat sticky. Almost like you could read his forlorn expression, you raised a cup to his lips. He drank greedily, the lemon-honey mix working nicely to soothe his scratchy throat.

He eased back onto his pillow, eyes growing heavy already. Your fingers were gentle as you ran a warm towel against his sweaty skin. Namjoon drifted off, breathing a bit easier as you laid a cooler towel on his forehead. You tucked his comforter beneath his chin, smiling fondly as you stroked his cheek.

“How is he?” Jin murmured as you toed off your slippers. He lifted the blanket, allowing you to slide in as you rested your head on his chest.

“A few more days, I think. Still has a bit of a fever,” you replied. He answered with a thoughtful hum. “I’ll pick up some more greens tomorrow, then. Nearly out.”

Jin glanced down at you when there was no answer, only to find you sleeping soundly, chest rising and falling rhymically. He laughed breathily and kissed the top of your head. “See you in my dreams, princess.”

Friday

7 PM

“H-heeey.” You leaned back, one hand swirling the amber liquid in a red solo cup as you smiled at the familiar blond that staggered his way to you. He was smashed, that much was clear. It was rare to see him in such a state, but you belatedly realized his project must’ve been weighing on his mind more than they’d originally assumed.

“Hello, Taehyung,” you said, playing along.

“Y-you’re so pretty,” he slurred. He was grinning at you lopsidedly. “Do you have a - a boyfriend?”

“I do, I’m sorry,” you giggled at the crestfallen look on his face.

“Oh,” he said, disappointment thick in his tone as he hung his head. “S-sorry to bother you, then …”

“You’re an idiot,” you bit back another laugh when he pouted. “W-what do you mean?”

“C’mon,” You set your drink aside and grabbed his hand.

7:30 PM

“T-this is w-wrong,” he moaned, stammering as he arched into you, struggling to resist the pleasure running through his veins. The alcohol had him dizzy, head spinning as his hips raised to meet every thrust.

His arms were tied to his back with your thin scarf and he swore he saw stars when he came, cum painting your walls hotly as you fucked him through his orgasm.

“I-if your boyfriend ever breaks up with you, please text me,” Taehyung said breathlessly when coherent thought returned. His golden locks were dishevelled, body gleaming with sweat, system rich with mind-numbing alcohol, and yet -

“You’ll be the first to know, baby,” you promised. He smiled, as if satisfied, and closed his eyes.

Saturday

5 PM

The muted sunbeams warmed your bare skin and you floated in and out of consciousness, faintly registering the arm that tightened around your waist, cheek pressed against a hard plane.

“Fuck,” a rumbling timbre voice murmured. His finger thumbed your lower lip, tracing your smile. “I really cheated on you with you, huh.”

“Yep,” you giggled, popping the p as you buried your head further into him.

“Fuck,” Taehyung sighed. “I really am an idiot.”

Sunday

3:21 PM

The movie ran in the background, colours flashing and dialogue drowned by the shuffling of clothes and the soft, slick sounds of tongues. You swallowed Jin’s soft moan as you ground into him. His cock brushed against your clothed clit and his fingers pressed hard into your curves, hips canting as he desperately searched for friction.

“Need - need more,” Jin panted. “Fuck!” His hoarse shout had you clenching on nothing as he came, shuddering in oversensitivity as the fabric of his sweats caught at the tip of his softening length.

Jin kissed you tiredly. “I love you. Fuck, I love you so much.”

10 PM

Fingers stroked your forearm, limbs tangled with yours, lips pressed against your skin.

“Good night, baby.”

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meganshinsou-tm · 4 years

Text

Zoo Day. (f)

☙ pairing: shouto x reiji*, dabi x reiji*

☙ theme: shared walls universe

☙ cw/tw: profanity, fluff, reiji todoroki*, dabi kidnapping his little buddy, domestic shouto, shouto and dabi bonding

☙ a/n-request: one of the ideas i received last night when i asked for some fluffy shouto and reiji prompts to write!

Shouto ran from room to room, gathering items like a squirrel gathering nuts. He was all over the place, a bag on each arm, one even around his neck. Things could be heard being shuffled around, frustrated grunts and quiet cheers of success.

“Snacks, wipes, pull-ups, extra set of clothes - hmmm. Where is that Gang Orca?”

Wandering around Reiji’s room, Shouto sought out the small plush toy his son couldn’t go anywhere without. When he finally found it he checked all the bags he had over again, Gang Orca’s fin hanging between his teeth. Each bag had what it needed - all three of them.

Today was the hero’s day to keep Reiji on his own. He was off of work and Fuyumi dragged you off to go have a girls day together. At first you felt bad about leaving Shouto with Reiji on his own. Shouto was a great father of course, he was amazing! He … was just clueless sometimes. Maybe a little overprepared and anal here and there. But nonetheless those quirky little things made Shouto an absolutely perfect father!

Reiji was loved so much by his father and that was all that mattered.

After Shouto was satisfied with the bags he packed, he stood in the hallway thinking to himself. It felt like he was missing something - something important.

“Oh yeah - the kid!”

Shouto walked about your shared home looking around for that little mop of red hair. When he heard a familiar giggle and squeal, Shouto smiled and made his way to the playroom. With Gang Orca in hand, the hero poked his head into the room.

“Time to go to the dent - what the hell!”

Another giggle sounded off, along with a familiar chuckle and before Shouto knew it, his son was waving him goodbye while being bounced in heavily burned arms - right out the fucking window!

“Bye-bye daddy!” Reiji smiled.

Shouto narrowed his eyes and quickly ran to the window seal, ice shooting from his palm and out to encase the kidnappers feet.

“Dabi what the fu - fudge do you think you’re doing with my kid?”

The villain turned what he could of his body around to face Shouto and shrugged.

“What kid?”

Reiji, now happily sitting on Dabi’s shoulders, continued to giggle just before sneezing into the mans black hair. Dabi cringed and gently pinched a chubby leg.

“Oh this kid - uh, I was bored and decided to take him to the zoo.”

Shouto barked out a sarcastic laugh.

“We’ve already discussed this, you can’t just take my kid whenever you’re bored! And stop breaking in, just knock on the front door like a regular person please?”

Dabi grinned and waited for Shouto to shuck off the bags from his body and to jump out of the window to go over and unfreeze him.

“I gotta keep up my reputation somehow Shouto, I’m still a criminal,” he replied while removing Reiji from his shoulders and holding him in the air to airplane him around the area where they stood, “Even if I do play Mrs.Doubtfire for your ass here and there.”

Shouto shook his head, casually playing along with the two and tickling his son when Dabi would playfully lunge Reiji in his direction.

“Okay - so let me ask you this then. How exactly did you expect to successfully take my son to the zoo - Mr. Criminal who is very recognizable?”

At this Dabi stopped, Reiji being held upside down by his little ankles and giggling.

“So I didn’t think that far - thinking isn’t usually my part of the job. Now let me ask you a question. Why the fuck do you need three bags - you’re going to the dentist, not on vacation!”

Shouto shrugged now, holding Reiji by his arms, the two men now swinging him in between them.

“I just wanted to be prepared, you never - how do you know we’re going to the dentist?”

“It’s my job to know these things. “

Rolling his eyes, Shouto finally took Reiji from Dabi and held him on his hip.

The toddler poked at his cheek, blowing raspberries and babbling his baby nonsense. Shouto looked at his son with a soft smile, nodding and humming at him in response. Reiji was only three going on four, so he didn’t know too much speech, not enough to really form sentences.

“Daddy, go to zoo too?”

“No - daddy and Reiji go to dentist.”

Now Reiji was nearly squirming out of Shouto’s hold, whining to go back to ‘Dab-Dab’.

“I know buddy, your father here is the real criminal huh - we just wanted to go see the lions!”

Shouto sighed and begrudgingly handed the toddler over to the other man. Tired of being outside, he finally invited Dabi back into the house - using the back door instead of the window. Once inside, the men went to the kitchen. Both of them grabbed a drink, Shouto grabbing a carton of banana milk for Reiji and tossing it to Dabi as he sat down at the counter with the happy kid.

“Well, even if I left right now, we would be late for his appointment and they would make us reschedule. So if I were you I’d bring food next time you decide to come over if you wanna get back on her good side because I’m totally throwing you under the bus for this.”

Dabi chuckled and sat back in his seat, bouncing Reiji on his knee while he drank his milk.

“Yeah yeah, so does that mean I can take him to the zoo?”

“Zoo! Zoo! I see wions daddy - rawr!” Reiji shouted with excitement, holding up his little hands to make paws.

Shouto quirked a brow, leaning back against the counter and crossed his arms.

“Look - I don’t know Dabi. Not everyone is aware of your double life here.”

Dabi hung his head back with a groan. He sighed after and looked at Reiji, lowering his face to the toddlers and cupping a hand around his ear. Shouto watched - knowing that whatever the patchwork man was telling his son, most definitely wasn’t good. Soon enough, turquoise and mismatched eyes were looking at him, two sets of lips jutted in pathetic pouts and they both put their hands together.

“Please daddy, I wanna see the wions!”

Next was Dabi’s turn.

“I just wanna take my little dude to see the wions!”

Shouto sighed and squeezed the bridge of his nose. Dabi looked like a total fucking idiot but … he couldn’t deny his own kid. Reiji was a pro at the puppy dog eyes and getting his way. The kid knew he had Shouto wrapped around his tiny finger, and maybe that was mostly thanks to fucking Dabi always using his own son agaisnt him. So finally after trying to bluff, Shouto groaned and shook his head.

“Fine - fine! But we have to do something about your appearance Dabi, people know who you are.”

“Okay then, what do you suggest?”

Shouto took a moment to think, crossing his arms again and rubbing his left temple with his fingertip. There had to be someway to allow Dabi to go out in public. A surgical mask wouldn’t hide all of his burns and wrapping him up like a mummy would be just weird. When Shouto scratched at his own burn, an idea suddenly popped into his head. Mulling it over, he then smiled at Dabi.

“I think I know what we can do. But - you’ll truly have to pull a Mrs.Doubtfire.”

Reiji was occupied with squashing his milk carton with his Ground Zero action figure, small shouts of ‘die, die’ here and there. Dabi looked at Shouto and scratched the back of his neck.

“Whatever it is - I’m not wearing fake tits!”

“Alright - I’m done. It only took us an hour but, I think this will work.”

Dabi sighed, leaning his head side to side to crack the tired bones in his neck after sitting on a stool for so long and not being able to move. Once Shouto stepped away from him and told him to check out his handiwork, Dabi rolled his eyes but did as told. When he did and looked into the mirror, there was no stopping the widening of his eyes and the small jump he might of done.

“Holy shit!”

There were no more burns, no more patchwork patterns on his face or ears. Now his skin was an all over even shade. Even his staples were expertly hidden under the makeup. And instead of wearing his usual low-cut white shirt, Dabi wore one of Shouto’s sweaters, hiding the burns that covered his chest and arms. Make-up also covered Dabi’s hands, up to his wrists. There was no way anyone in public would recognize him now, hell he couldn’t even recognize himself!

“Where the hell did you learn to do this?”

Shouto hummed while he cleaned up the bathroom counter.

“Fuyumi,” he started while wetting a rag so he could wipe the lipstick spiraling all over Reiji’s face. “Way back when I hated my scar, she taught me how to make it go away. Yours aren’t much different from mine, just more severe so it only took more makeup. Which by the way, you owe my wife - you owe her a new tube of this lipstick too.”

Dabi chuckled and took the tube from Shouto that was taken away from Reiji. He decided to help out with the clean-up and finished wiping Reiji’s cheeks and his hands.

“Hate to break it to ya kid but I don’t think this is your color.”

Reiji giggled and threw his little arms around Dabi’s neck, hugging him close when Dabi lifted him off the counter and the group made their way out of the bathroom.

“Go to zoo now?” The toddler asked, rubbing his eye with a small hand and yawning.

Shouto chuckled and went to grab his son. He held him close, letting Reiji curl into and cuddle him, resting a pink chubby cheek to his chest and holding his Gang Orca close. Shouto placed a kiss to his head and combed fingers through his red hair.

“Mhm. You’re gonna get a nice nap on the way there and when you wake up - we’ll see the lions!”

Reiji let out a quiet ‘wions’ and both the older men smiled. Shouto gently rubbed his sons back as he slowly started to fall asleep.

“Hey Dabi, do you mind getting his bags and I’ll meet you outside so I can put him in his car-seat?”

Dabi nodded and Shouto quietly thanked him before turning away and going to walk out the door. He was stopped though when Dabi called out to him. Stopping in his tracks, Shouto turned to see what the other man needed. Standing there, Dabi looked at the ground, one hand in his pocket and the other rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Uh - thanks. You know … for …”

Shouto smirked and shrugged.

“It’s no problem, it's the least I can do - I owe a lot to you. Just next time you have a wild hair up your ass and decide to jump out the window with my kid … don’t? Like I said knock on the door, or fuck, knock on the window, I’ll open it for you!”

A genuine laugh left Dabi’s lips, “I’ll try.”

#shouto todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki x reiji todoroki #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha oc #mha oc #oc child #reiji todoroki #dabi #fluff #wholesome #clueless shouto #domestic shouto #dad shouto #bnha x reader #mha x reader

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blu-slushi · 4 years

Text

Demon!CraigxWitchOC

*This is a Writing-Prompts prompt. Try saying that 10x fast lmao.I know Craig is typically written as a Priest or something? But i felt like this would be adorable. The OC knows Craig already and is aware that he is a demon(imp) cause she’s a witchy witch. I was kinda thinking “OH SHIT! Sabrina the teenage witch” after i finished it. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this cute/funny fluff stuff*

Prompt:You get home to find a demon sitting in the middle of your living room, crying incoherently while petting your cat. It’s only after a very long and confused assessment as well as noting the bandage around their jaw that you realize the demon just had some of their teeth removed and somehow transported itself to your home in their very loopy state.

School must have been invented to punish horrible people, Blair decided while walking out of the prison-like building with her friends. Well, all except one. Craig had been missing all day. Despite all of the calls and texts, none of his friends knew his whereabouts.

The four friends would still continue their walk as always though. Even though Blair ended up having to walk to her house alone. And all because some fucktard wasn't at school or answering his phone.

“You sure you don't want any of us to walk with ya, Blair? You know that we wouldn’t care to.” Clyde voiced what the other guys were thinking.

“We know that Craig typically walks you, but we could if you want.”

“Yeah! You ACK! Jesus! K-know that it’s not a prob-Dammit-problem.”

“I’m sure guys. It’s just a 5-minute walk from Token’s anyway.” Blair confirmed her thoughts with her overprotective friends. Nothing is going to happen in those 5 minutes. She was sure of it.

“Okay then. Suit yourself, Dandelion.” Token laughed, using her stupid nickname. The only reason they called her that is because they assumed that she was ‘delicate’. Oh! And because of her almost yellow/blonde hair.

She flipped the three boys off as you turned around, sluggishly walking the next block or two to her home. Blair’s home was across the street from the Tuckers, which is why they always walked together.

The walk took much longer than normal because Craig wasn’t there to keep her company. She forgot her stupid headphones like a dumbass so all she had to listen to was the sound of her dirty converse hitting against the pavement. It was oddly comforting in the silence around her. Not paying attention to her surroundings, Blair didn't notice that she was about to walk face-first into a stupid bus sign across from her house until she already smacked her head against the metal pole.

Groaning as she rubbed her head, Blair took her keys out from her bag and unlocked her front door. She took a step into her dark home but soon stopping. Was that… Crying?

Blair carefully took off her tattered converse. Her mind was racing. Blair has been living alone with her cat for almost a year and a half now. So either A) someone broke in, or B) She left the television on.

Blair shuffled from her front door to her living room, noticing a slight red light coming from there. Relief rushed over her, thinking that she just left the television on. But to her dismay, as she rounded the corner to enter the living room, she saw a long, ominous shadow. Fear bubbled up in her chest as she finally peaked around the corner.

A figure sat in her floor. They had on a solid black NASA sweatshirt and a pair of grey sweatpants. A dark blue chullo with a large sunflower yellow puffball at the top sat on the figures head. Black hair poked out from the bottom of the chullo. A long, almost pointed tail protrudes from the tailbone of the figure. Sobbing emitted from their mouth, causing Blair to become worried. Which is off because this person was invading her home.

Soft purring came from the direction of the figure. Being the curious dumbass she is, Blair made her way over to see a fluffy tail lazily swaying back and forth in front of them. She quickly moved in front of the figure, taking in the details of their face.

The first thing she noticed was the large bandage wrapped up around their jaw. Their black hair covered a little past their eyebrow. Immediately, Blair knew this guy was Craig. The blue chullo should have given it away, but no. She’s an idiot. Her cat, Salem was laying in his lap, purring with her eyes closed. “Craig? What the hell are you doing here? And why do you have a tail?”

Craig’s piercing blue eyes met with Blair’s brown ones. His pupils were dilated and he had gauze poking out of his mouth with a little blood on them. He had drool running down his chin and tears leaking from his eyes.

“Blairrr~ I missed you~ “ The black hair boy sang. His speech was slurred and the large amounts of gauze wasn’t making deciphering his words any easier. Something clicked in Blair’s mind. Craig told her two days ago that he was having some teeth removed at the end of the week.

“Hey, buddy. How are you feeling?” Blair asked in a soft voice.

“Blair. Salem is s-s cute.” The demon hiccuped, wiping tears from his face with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“I know, Craig. Here, how about we get you some food and you sleep some, kay?”

Craig nodded, trying his best to get up on his own, but failing miserably. Blair chuckled at te lanky boy. She grabbed his hand and hoisted him up from the floor. “Why are you so heavy? What the hell.” She grumbled under her breath.

Craig giggled as she led him to her couch. Blair grabbed a few pillows, some blankets and sat Salem on top of Craig once he was covered and comfortable.

Different scenarios ran through Blair’s head as she tried to figure out exactly how Craig got here on his own. She concluded that he must have managed to teleport himself here. Why? She’ll have to ask when the medication has worn off.

As Blair started to walk towards her kitchen to get her friend something to eat but was quickly stopped. “Blair. Cuddle?” Craig gave her his best puppy dog eyes as he could. Which was saying something because the man only has one facial expression

“No”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re an idiot.”

Craig continued to pout as Blair walked into her kitchen. She drugs her feet as she made her way to the fridge, grabbing some ice and a smoothie for the demon to eat.

When Blair walked back into the living room, Craig was sitting up, his dark blue eyes following her every move.

“Craig, hun. Lay back down.”

“Only if you cuddle with me.” The imp slurred, reaching for the witches hand. She let him take it. His hands were warm, unlike her own cold, lifeless ones. Blair smiled at him, gently pulling her hands away so she could give him the ice pack.

The demon frowned, scowling at her as he put the ice pack around his face, directly over the gauze that was wrapped around his head.

“Oh come on. Don’t act like that. Drink this smoothie and then maybe I’ll cuddle with you.”

Craig’s eyes lit up at the thought of getting to cuddle with his girlfri- i mean best friend. It’s not like the guy had a blatantly obvious crush on the witch.

Blair chuckled as she watched him drink the strawberry and banana smoothie as quick as he could. Not too long after, he set the glass down and quickly pulled Blair into his lap before she could change her mind.

“Hey... You could have asked first, ya dork.”

“You said after I finished the smoothie.” Craig grinned widely, hugging the girl tightly while breathing in her wonderful scent of nutmeg, orange and camomile tea. Blair tried to pull away, but the imp growled lowly, hugging her tighter.

Blair sighed, relaxing into Craig’s chest. He was so warm. Maybe it’ll be okay to just stay here for a little while. Blair’s eyes got heavier the longer she stayed wrapped in the long arms of Craig.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Light snores filled the room. Craig wasn’t too sure who they were from, but he really didn’t care. He gripped the pillow in his arms a little tighter, snuggling his sore face into the bundle. The imp let out a content sigh, breathing in the nutmeg and camomile scent. It was oddly comforting. It smelt like Blair. Huh. Wonder when she was here. Craig’s solid black and almost fluffy tail swished in the air, lightly thumping on the couch he laid on.

The “pillow” in Craig’s arms moved slightly, up and down. He froze. His eyes still closed. He listened closely to the rooms surroundings. His mind was still a little foggy from that morning’s procedure. Craig slowly opened his eyes, being met with blond hair. He moved his eyes lower to see that he definitely wasn't holding a pillow, but his best friend and longtime crush, Blair, who happened to be sleeping on his chest, wrapped in his arms.

Craig could feel his face flush with a bright red colour. Why was Blair here? Well, the real question was, why was he in her house?

Careful not to wake the sleeping witch, Craig carefully moved his body, gripping Blair so she didn’t move too much.

“Craig? What are you doing?” Shit

“Oh. Um. Hi Blair. Fancy meeting you here.” Craig could feel his face heat up, obviously turning redder. It also didn’t help that his face was starting to throb very unnaturally.

“Craig. Hun, what do you remember?”

“Uh..”

“Hun, you teleported yourself here just to pet Salem. You were sobbing too. It was quite amusing, to be honest.” Blair’s voice held an amused tone, smirking as the imp shrank into his hoodie.

“You don’t say.”

People would think that it takes a lot to embarrass Craig Tucker. But not when it came to Blair. She could read him easily while everyone else had to study his eyes to see if they let off any unusual emotion or see if his typically monotoned, nasally voice betrayed him and leaked some form of emotion. Maybe it was because Blair was a witch and typically did spiritual readings in her “witchy relm” for a living. But she almost always knew what to say or do to embarrass the boy.

His grip loosened around her, but his touch still lingered

“Blair?”

“Hm?”

“Can I talk to you about something.. Something a little important?”

“How about we go back to sleep instead?”

Blair’s green and gold eyes met his own sapphire blue ones. The distance between them seemed too much. Craig watched as Blair’s eyes closed, leaning closer. He smiled to himself before finally closing the distance between them. Their lips touching.

Now, this was real magic.

#south park #craig #imp #fluff #craig tucker #oc #mentionsofwitchcraft

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imfallingdown-icantwakeup · 4 years

Text

Into the Calm and the Quiet

Fishmonger’s Daughter Chapter Three

Word Count: 3557

Taglist:

@chipster-21, @a-banana-for-your-thoughts, @ultracolorfulnerdcollection

No, but I trust you.

The words echo around in his head and he’s beyond grateful that she allowed him to accompany her on Hamish, he didn’t know what he would’ve looked like if he was walking at that exact moment. Many people had said a great many things to him over the years, but trust, trust was so hard for him to come by and she just gave it to him so freely.

I trust you.

Thank the Gods he got onto the damn horse before she had. How embarrassing would that have been to have a hard on pressed right into her ass when those words had poured out of her mouth so smoothly like the purest nectar? Even now, her hair would tickle his neck every once in a great while when the wind would blow a certain way and all that enveloped his senses was roses and honey and suddenly, it was like his dick had a mind of its own like he was a fucking child all over again.

I trust you.

Spheres preserve him. He was fucked. Truly, royally fucked in the ass.

I trust you.

Fuck.

“You’re quiet.” Geralt broke the silence. Was he? Jaskier took a moment before humming a tune under his breath to appease the grouchy man, trying to think of anything, anything other than the slim woman holding onto him before clearing his throat. Words. Geralt spoke words to him, he should be responding, shouldn’t he? Geralt only looked over at the bard before looking back at Elowyn who was tucked up tightly against Jaskier, fast asleep. “You told me of her father. Her brother. Never her.” Jaskier stiffened under Elowyn before looking over his shoulder unexpectedly, concerned, before he realized the obvious. She was still fast asleep beside him and completely oblivious to their interaction. Good. He didn’t want her to take offense where none needed taken.

I trust you.

“We all have chapters we do not read aloud, Geralt.” Jaskier was more than aware of the weary look Geralt gave him but decided to ignore it as he kept his attention forward. One of his hands dropped to where Elowyn’s were wrapped around his torso and he embraced her wrists softly as his thumb brushed against her wrist absentmindedly, lovingly almost, as if to reassure himself that she was there; as if the weight of her on his back, her steady breathing against him wasn’t enough for Jaskier to truly believe she was there.

“Leaving to travel wasn’t an easy decision.” Geralt stated as Jaskier’s grip tightened. No, no it wasn’t. Single handedly, one of the hardest decisions of my life.

No, but I trust you.

I’ll miss you, you little devil.

Goddammit, get a hold of yourself Jaskier.

“I was always to leave. It wasn’t a question of ‘if’. Only ‘when’.” Jaskier lied through his teeth. If Geralt caught the lie, which he did, he didn’t mention it to the bard. The Witcher merely nodded towards Jaskier in understanding before they travelled in blessed silence once again, leaving each other to their thoughts.

Does she ever think of their last day? Under the tree, the moon being their only light in the sky?

No.

Why would she? She had a life to live in a warm home where she wouldn’t have a worry in the world to a man who could never want any but her because that’s what she deserved, and he had a Continent to travel and sing about full of adventure and that was their destiny.

That was their destiny.

Was that his destiny?

Can you smell it?

No, but I trust you.

He could remember her face so clearly, how could he not see just how fucked he was since the beginning? He remembers hugging her tight against him, hurting his arms afterwards as he walked away. Jaskier remembers how his knuckles bled after she ran, he had punched their tree.

I trust you.

He looked down at the skinny silver scar that ran down his middle finger, knuckle to mid-finger, can almost feel the blood rushing out onto the back of his hands at the sight of her running, crying because of him.

Jaskier was just waiting for Elowyn to ask to come along. Why didn’t she ask? Why had he never gone home? Jaskier knew the answer to that. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to walk away a second time, her being latched onto his back only being a small testament to that fact.

I’ll make you famous, little devil.

I trust you.

He had thought of going home many times, but the same scenario had always played out horribly in his mind’s eye and he always talked himself out of the thought before it even began. He usually ended up in some woman’s bed on those nights after drinking too much wine, burying himself in the loveliest of his muses, chasing the smells of roses and honey.

No, but I trust you.

Poor little Ely, they say.

Little Ely, little plain, boring Ely with her dark hair and eyes and light skin. She didn’t have big brown eyes either, although they weren’t small tiny orbs. Just small enough to make a difference to the other girls. The other girls with their fair hair and blue eyes. Eyes like the far seas that tasted of salt. Daddy always said that the sea tasted of salt.

Oh, what poor little Ely wouldn’t do to have blue eyes. Blue like Jaskier. Here she is, crying her eyes red in the boring dark mud that matches her boring dark eyes and her boring dark hair.

“Elowyn? Elowyn, is that you?” Jaskier runs up to me, his long hair tied behind his neck as he crouches beside me. I hide your face in my knees, not wanting to see his angel eyes. I can feel the rage swell in my chest as he nears, not at him per say, but at his kindness. How could an angel like him be with an average, boring girl like me?

“This is none of your business!” I yell, flinching from his kind touch. He sighs as he plops beside me, picking up a stick. He waits for me to stop crying, the cries turning into hiccups before he pokes me softly with the stick. I refuse to look at him still, making him sigh before he scoots closer, placing an arm around my shoulders and bringing me closer to him, my bent frame tucked into his chest in a half-hug.

“I’m only eleven. You’re ten. I can wait for a long time.” Jaskier threatens lightly. A wave of wet anger floods me at his words. How can he wait for a long time when my problem is forever?

“What do you see?” I ask as I look up at him, voice hoarse, cheeks wet and warm from crying. Jaskier takes a breath before answering, taking this time to tuck some hair behind my ear.

“I see… A very… Sad girl…” He says tentatively and I swat at him as I scoot away from him, placing space between us. I needed space to think.

“I’m ordinary. I’m plain, I’m like the fucking air. Brown hair, brown eyes. Who wants what everybody already has?!” I yell as I stand. Jaskier sighs as he shakes his head at me, rising himself to calm me.

“Have you been listening to that Jarsdel girl again? You know she’s- “Jaskier raises his hands in mock surrender as he slowly approaches me, but I lash out anyways, hitting at him. He dodges me easily as he is much taller than me already, taking a step back.

“Right. She’s fucking right Jaskier. No ma-“I cut myself off with a humorless laugh. Jaskier only looks to me with empathy in his eyes as I shake my head at him. I must look a sight. Hair plastered to a sticky red face, a boring sticky red face. Oh, sweet, sweet angel. “Tell me. How many love songs have a maiden with brown eyes?” Silence. Jaskier looks at her in silence as he mulls her question, mind running through every song he knows. He can see the anger flash in her eyes, sparks flaring, and he could see the tiny devils dancing, he could see it all, and spheres he could- he could-

“I could write one.” He offers. He can see the anger tamed as the sentiment of his words register into her young mind. “I could write a song about how demons only light fires in eyes of darkness.” Of how their fires are so addicting, how I could watch the world burn in your eyes. He sees her flush before she wipes at her cheeks, sniffling before nodding.

“I-I guess that can be acceptable.” I mumble as I look at my feet, the redness in my cheeks now there for a completely different reason. Is this what butterflies felt like? Why is my heart pounding this hard? Jaskier just said that he would write a love song about a girl like me, not for-

Thud.

“Shit! Are you okay?” My head falls off a very warm shoulder, whipping my front half forwards. I almost slide off the horse as Jaskier’s hand tightens around my wrists, tugging me back to where I was originally seated.

“Yeah, thanks. Sorry.” I apologize as I place my head back on his shoulder, my nose tucked in towards his neck as I pull the hood of my cloak on. The cold air had turned my nose pink, and his neck radiated warmth. I hummed slightly as the tip of my nose collided with the outline of the skin exposed at the base of his neck lightly, my nose burning at the sensation.

“Truth or dare?” He suddenly asks, his tone rich and deep in front of me. I smile fondly as I thumb the fabric of his shirt between my fingers gently, mulling over my choices.

“Truth.” I eventually answer quietly, eyes closed as my nose is still turned into his neck. I feel the vibrations through his back more than hear them through the air as he chuckles, his long hair at the nape of his neck tickling my nose as he shakes his head.

“Never were a risk taker. Tell me a secret.” My eyes open at his statement, and I still my fingers in his shirt at his words.

“What kind of secret?”

“Any kind.” I would not change a thing about you for all the chaos in the world. Your existence is a paradox, a joy, a contradiction I could spend my life studying and appreciating without ever getting bored. My breath stuttered in my chest as impossible thoughts race though my head. I couldn’t tell him any of that. That could ruin everything.

“I don’t have any secrets.” I boldly reply, false bravado in my voice as I sit straight, placing space between my front and his back. The move was subtle, but I could tell that Jaskier could sense the slight tension it caused. He peers over his shoulder at me with an encouraging smile, so small but bright. How could I say no to an angel such as that?

“Bullshit. That’s a lie, everyone has secrets.” You have haunted my thoughts and dreams since I was a child. I have memorized the slant of your brow, the way breathe when you sing, the sweep of your lashes and the rhythm of your steps. I would know you blind, deaf, numb in this world and any other. Now, now is as good of a time as any. If I could just-just get the words-

“Alright, here’s a secret. I am afraid.”

“Of what exactly? You can’t just say that to someone- “Scrunching his shoulders he turns and pretends to throw hair over his shoulder in a high pitch voice- “‘I’m afraid’”-I laugh at the sight. Who wouldn’t? - “and not provide any supporting details.”

Eternity. Oblivion. Crowded rooms and authority figures and being alone too long and you. I’m terrified of you because you have the power to destroy me and you don’t even know it. You have no idea. I’m less afraid of dying than I am of losing you and that scares me too. He sounds irritated. Should I not? Maybe now, I shouldn’t say anything? Fuck, I’ve waited too long-again-

“Spiders.” The word came out of my mouth before my brain had enough time to think of how his eyes looked mine, of how his breathing may have stuttered just as much my own.

“You’re joking?” Jaskier smiles broadly as he physically turned, and I can feel myself breathe again. Dandelions and lavender. This must be the breath of adventure.

“No, really. It’s the legs, I think. And the eyes. There are eight fucking eyes, Jaskier. Eight.” I ramble, placing my hands on his arms to steady myself. I look around us on the almost-overgrown trail, finally taking in our surroundings, and notice something odd. “Where’s Geralt?”

“Ah. The White Wolf has ridden ahead onto the trail to set up camp.” He explains, turning rigid under my grasp. I smirk at him as he turns, leading Hamish along.

“Truth or dare.”

“Truth.”

“You accused me of not being a risk taker, Bard. Your excuse is?” I ask him, dropping my hand to pinch his stomach while keeping my tone light. Jaskier softens under my touch as he laughs into the air.

“Is that your question?” He asks in return, sneaking a hand down to pinch my knee that was sitting along his thigh. I smack his shoulder lightly, mumbling ‘cheater’ under my breath as I think of a real question to ask him.

“What is a kiss to you?” The question slithers out passed my lips without my mind’s permission.

“A kiss?”

“Yes, a kiss. You know, the ones you sing of in your songs.” I tease, a smile never leaving my face as I giggle at his antics. He could be so dimwitted at times, it amazes me.

“I know what a kiss is, thank you.” Jaskier throws backs, straightening his shoulders in faux embarrassment. We laugh lightly before a calmness surrounds us. “A kiss… I think a kiss is the most pure and raw form of physical contact there could ever be.” I scoff lightly at the vagueness of his answer, rolling my eyes, knowing full well he couldn’t see me in that moment.

“Oh, yes. Yes, of course. How silly of me. Please don’t bother to explain.” I sarcastically mumble into his shoulder, tone light with a smirk on my face.

“If you would just let me finish, you devil woman.” I can feel his chuckle rumble from his chest down through my toes, and I giggle back in delight. Even being this close to him, it was like my skin was vibrating.

“Alright, I’m sorry! Please, continue.” I pat his shoulder lightly as I quiet behind him.

“Sex is intimate, sure, but you can have sex with anyone. A kiss though. A small touch between two pairs of lips as soft as petals can blow your mind. Whether it be short and sweet, or long and intense. And when you find someone that looks at you like you’re more beautiful than a blossoming rose; you’ll never want to feel another’s pressed against your lips ever again.” Jaskier explains, his voice deep. He actually sounds as if he put thought into this answer.

“Must you always sound so lyrical? It’s like everything you say has yet to be sung.” I tease lightheartedly, voice breathless as I imagine kissing his lips.

“I can write great ones, you know.” ‘I could write one’ I hear a young Jaskier echo in the far reaches of my mind and it brings a fond smile to my face. I place my forehead onto his shoulder for a moment and smile into his shoulder, childlike laughter bubbling up at the memory.

“So, I’ve heard.” I puff, his singing drowning out my words.

“The better sex, they often call them” He sings, well attempts. Jaskier brings his arms up as he mentally writes the song in his head, and I laugh at the familiar sight before me.

“Ew, no, Jaskier, that’s God awful.” The laughter never leaves as I comment his word choice, how could he have come up with that?

“Alright, then. Fairer. The fairer sex, they often call them; But her love is as unfair as a crook-” Jaskier’s singing is deeper, tone richer as he sings more confidently this time. This is where he shines. Basking under her warm smile in the cool air on the back of the horse on some trail behind his Witcher, it was the best adventure Jaskier’s been on in years.

“That sounds better.” I compliment, whether it was his words or singing, I’m not sure.

“Of course, it does, I wrote it!” He boasts, chest puffed as his words inflate the air in his head. The ego this man has of himself, one none other to blame than his father, makes me laugh as the familiarity vibrates through my core. Soon the laughter dies into quiet, comfortable silence, the air still large with his ego and light with my happiness.

“Does she have brown eyes?” I ask as we go around a corner, and everything changes.

Silence.

The cold finally sets in as Jaskier goes rigid under my touch, back straightened out and moved forward slightly away from me as we see a horse tied to a tree not far ahead.

“I see Roach.” Jaskier points, and I feel all the happiness drain at the sound of his words.

“Oh.”

Geralt already had two tents set up when we arrived and a small fire going. He was attending his own weapons when we approached, and hardly looked up in acknowledgement when we tied Hamish to the tree accompanying Roach.

“I see you got our tents set up.” Jaskier says enthusiastically as he walks over to the tents, stretching his legs as he grabs his little notebook from his pack.

“No.” Geralt grumbles, tossing Jaskier his own tent. He looks down at the piece of the equipment on the ground as if it personally offended him as the Witcher turns back to Roach, hands on his hips. Jaskier kept his angel gaze on the tent before he turned back to Geralt, lips pursed in disagreement to the Witcher’s reluctance to help.

“As I seem to recall, ‘setting up camp’ meant for everyone.” Jaskier specifies, toeing the tent at his feet. The Witcher only seemed to roll his eyes at the Bard in irritation and continued with his task, unfazed.

“No.”

“Geralt, I’m starting to feel attacked.” Jaskier continues, taking a step towards him. Geralt finally turns towards the Bard with a sigh and another roll of his eyes. Keep doing that, and he will get those feline orbs stuck back there.

“And?” He asks lazily, a smug smirk making its way onto his face. Jaskier goes to argue before I scoff at the two men, gaining their attention before I walk over to grab the damn tent myself from between them.

“Fucking men acting like children.” I mutter under my breath as I walk to the opposite side where the other two were not and pitched my own tent away from the two children so that I may get some peace at some point in the night.

The fire had been burning for some time into the night. Jaskier and Geralt had been sitting by their tents, Jaskier mumbling lyrics into his lute while writing them down while Geralt tended to the warm flames. I sat in silence listening to the soft wildlife around me, the birds and insects buzzing in the overgrown weeds around us.

“A storm breaking on the horizon; Of longing, and heartache and- and- “Jaskier mumbles as he scribbles words in his little leather book, eyes furrowing in frustration. He hums the chord a few times, charcoal forgotten on his knee as he continues strumming lightly on his lute.

The red and orange flames dance lightly around us, enveoloping us in their warmth as Geralt comes to sit by me. We sit in comfortable silence, him drinking from his pouch while I snacked from a dried fruit pouch Jaskier threw my way once the sun started to set.

“He can be quite compelling when he wants to be.” Geralt breaks the silence first with warming words. His tone is as warm as the fire dancing around us, making me nod up at him, smiling politely as I continue watching Jaskier play his instrument.

“Jaskier has always had a way with words.” I agree, basking in the feelings around me. I relish in the warmth of the fire, scooting a bit closer to the warm flames until I can almost feel the warmth scorch the skin of my legs, the sensation grounding me to reality.

“Who is ‘Doxie’?” Geralt asks suddenly, and I feel all the warmth leave. The scorching that was once on my skin fades, the red and orange flames dancing around me still as I look sharply at the silver haired man, Jaskier’s singing long forgotten. I blink at the man in indignation, how dare he-

“Geralt! Listen to this!” Jaskier yells as he jumps over my seated form, sitting himself next to Geralt, ignoring the shared looks between us. He begins singing the same song from earlier, the love song of a girl with maybe brown eyes and I just can’t help but to think that I am fucked.

I am fucked.

I am royally fucked in the ass.

#Jaskier x reader #jaskier imagines #jaskier x oc

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