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p0ckykiss · 7 months

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five ways to say "i love you" - jeonghan

summary - how jeonghan shows his love to you, through all five love languages

-> sick y/n, worried jeonghan, fluff, established relationship, soft jeonghan!!!!, whipped jeonghan

seasonal depression is a real thing. at least, according to you it is. personally, jeonghan had never experienced it. its entire premise just didn't really make sense, is all. watching the leaves change colors and fall was beautiful, and when winter rolled around the corner, so did the holidays and days off. if anything, wasn't that a reason to be happier?

a sneeze interrupts his train of thought, and jeonghan feels a pang in his chest at the sight.

it's officially been three days with you being flu-struck, and you both hoped it would've gotten better by now, but if anything it only seemed to have gotten worse. the time reads a quarter past two, and jeonghan can't help but sigh.

you've been stuck on the couch since noon, curled up in your warmest blanket trying to watch the latest sitcom episode. your drowsiness is palpable, and every time you reach for a tissue to blow your nose, jeonghan flinches.

if seasonal depression corresponded with your well-being, then maybe jeonghan relates to it more than he thinks. and though jeonghan is chock-full of sympathy, his urgency to comfort you proves stronger.

and so jeonghan begins to rack his brain for different methods to make you feel better. and somehow his memories digress to the day you both took the love language test, even before you started dating. much to his embarrassment, jeonghan doesn't actually remember what your love language is, and he's way too prideful to ask. luckily, the nostalgia ends with the spark of a lightbulb, and jeonghan smiles. he knows exactly what to do.

—

the quest to rediscover your love language begins with the first type: words of affirmation.

slowly, jeonghan saunters over to you, trailing his fingertips over the leather of the couch, then over the fabric of the blanket, gently and gradually, until they find their way to your shoulder, and jeonghan leans down so you're promptly face to face. the quiet chatter from the TV fills up empty space, but it's not enough to force jeonghan to speak loudly. so he doesn't. instead, he inches ever so closer, until he can make out every beauty mark on your face, and he breathes, hardly above a whisper, "you're so beautiful."

in an attempt to play the compliment off, you merely roll your eyes. you blame your illness, though, when you can't contain the slightest inklings of a smile forming, nor the red flush that threatens to overtake your cheeks. you pair a gentle slap against jeonghan's arm with the statement, "i look like shit," and the accusation, "you're just saying that to make me feel better."

if it was even possible, jeonghan moves in closer, propping one hand on the couch arm for support so he could lift his other hand to rest perfectly under your chin. jeonghan swipes his thumb over your skin, hot to the touch, but he can't tell if it's from a blush or from the fever. "you might be right," jeonghan concedes, humming as he takes in every detail of your current state—rosy nose, puffy eyes, dry skin, messy hair—and yet jeonghan can't seem to find any flaws. inspection complete, jeonghan searches for the one thing he knows he can find. ever so faintly, glimmers dance in your eyes, and when jeonghan catches them with his own, like he's done before a million times, he repeats himself. "you might be right. i could just be saying that to make you feel better." jeonghan tucks one of many stray hairs behind your ear before reaching down to cup your hands together, "but that doesn't make it any less true."

and jeonghan can see it, can physically see it, how all of your insecurities instantly crumble, like a house of cards collapsing upon itself, melting away to make room for new walls, sturdier this time, built from affirmations and confidence and care.

a verbal response isn't required. all you do is smile, subtly, so that your lips barely curve up, and you close your eyes. but even this speaks volumes, because it's your cue of absorbing all the good things around you, no matter how small. it's also jeonghan's cue to add one final speck of positivity to your realm with a sweet kiss to your forehead, before he takes his leave to give you your much-needed space.

—

mindless chatter continues to emit from the TV, and when jeonghan peers into the living room, he spots you tucked away in your same spot on the couch, only this time your head rested lower and your mouth hung open, blissfully asleep and temporarily free from the virus that ailed you.

jeonghan is quick to shimmy on his coat. braving the bite of winter air, it was time to do some shopping for part two, giving gifts, in his mission to determine your love language.

months of taking extra shifts, saving up, determined observations, and heavy research all culminated into this one moment. he was battling not one, but two, life-or-death decisions. the first was to pick which gaming console to buy, and the second was to pick which game to correctly pair with said console. his dedication to this plan, despite being executed weeks before the planned date, does not fail him, and fifteen minutes later jeonghan is walking back into your home as if nothing even happened.

luckily, you are still asleep, which gives jeonghan enough time to wrap up (literally) this phase of the journey and get a head start on the next: acts of services.

—

about a million things fly through jeonghan's head when he watches you ease out of your slumber, the most prominent thought being how adorable you look, but the most important thought being how sick you still must feel, and how it's engraved in jeonghan's soul to fend off your demons.

unable to contain his excitement, jeonghan approaches you with his arms tucked behind his back, very conspicuously hiding something. you don't even get the chance to sit up before jepnghan kneels beside you, looking up with the largest pair of star-filled eyes.

jeonghan brings both hands forward, so the two presents display themselves proudly between you. "i was going to wait until christmas," he shuffles the gifts into your arms, "but i can't stand seeing you like this." jeonghan balls his fists into his lap to prevent himself from tearing away at the wrappings himself. "i hope you like it."

piece by piece, bits of red and green foil fall to the floor. no amount of congestion or itchiness in your throat could suppress the yelp that burst from your voice. "jeonghan," you begin, but the growing lump of emotion in your chest was making it damn near impossible to finish your sentence. "you really didn't have to."

jeonghan beams. "yes i did. i know how much you miss your old switch."

"you mean the one i threw out the window because i couldn't pass that one stupid level of super mario?"

it's clear that you are very unfond of the memory, but jeonghan simply finds it all the more endearing. "that's the one."

the grin on jeonghan's face has yet to falter, and suddenly the swells of appreciation that lap at your heart transform into guilt. you imagine all the sacrifices jeonghan must have made in order to afford this, all the late shifts he had to seek out, just to buy you a replacement for something you broke in the first place. you swallow a lump of equal parts of exasperation and admiration down your throat, ready to air out further protest because you really don't deserve this, and you sure as hell don't deserve jeonghan.

and jeonghan can imagine all of your internal turmoil, of course he can, which gives him all the more reason to assure you that you do, in fact, deserve the entire world. it's also happily up to jeonghan to deliver it to you. one warm hand placed on your cold ones and a couple of soothing circles rubbed atop of them later, and jeonghan has effectively drawn you out of your own bubble.

"whatever you're worrying about," jeonghan exhales, "don't." when jeonghan senses the tension releasing from your body, he drives his point across with a home run. "plus," he nods at the game he bought to accompany the console, mario kart 8, "we can play together this time, too."

there's no reason to argue, you conclude, especially not against jeonghan. a deep breath resets your mentality, and you try your best to return to your usual self, biting back a smile. "you know I won't go easy on you, right?"

"oh please," jeonghan ruffles your already messy hair, "in your condition, you'll be begging me to go easy on you."

frowning, you take a moment to envision this unlikely scenario. unwilling to even entertain the possibility of losing to jeonghan, you dodge the challenge altogether. "how about we play another time," you mutter.

and at that, jeonghan jumps to his feet, grabbing the switch and the game in one fell swoop. "i knew you were gonna say that," he giggles, "which is why I prepared something else."

after quickly shooting a prayer to whatever gods were out there, you tentatively say, "please don't tell me you got another ridiculously expensive gift. this is more than enough." you're more than enough, you want to add, but don't.

jeonghan all but skips to the kitchen. "i wouldn't exactly call this a gift." a painfully slow thirty seconds pass until he returns to the couch in the living room, to you, carefully balancing a plate of various desserts in one hand, and cradling what appeared to be a lighter in the other.

you squint, double checking if you were actually seeing what you thought you were seeing. "what exactly would you call it, then?"

figuring that calling it an act of service would be much too blatant, jeonghan settles on "lunch."

"lunch?" you eye the plate, definitively making out two chocolate bars, a sleeve of graham crackers, and a bundle of marshmallows.

once his rendition of a charcuterie board is secure on the coffee table, jeonghan maneuvers his way onto the couch and under the blanket, shoulder to shoulder with you one and only. "you haven't eaten all day. and i know you probably don't want to eat a proper meal," jeonghan gestures at their awaiting food, "but I also know you crave sweets when you're sick."

it should be second nature by now, really, with how many times jeonghan so casually demonstrates just how well he knows you, maybe even more than you knows yourself. but jeonghan leaves you in awe every time, regardless.

s'mores are your designated comfort food. the entire process is just so enjoyable, from prepping the ingredients and assembling the structure, to trying to eat the whole thing in one bite lest the remnants ooze out the sides. and so you both do just that.

lacking anything close to a fireplace or a firepit, you roast marshmallows skewered with chopsticks above the dim flame from the lighter. as per the laws of physics (or something like that), the first marshmallow never goes well, and you both end up with a big black burnt chunk of goo. you effectively hurl yours in the trash, but jeonghan dares to take a nibble off his own. he learns that curiosity does, in fact, kill the cat, and jeonghan scrambles to wash out that terrible ashy aftertaste on his tongue. then he hears the faint sound of you snorting, and he concludes that it was worth it.

you tackle the issue of melting the chocolate next, but it's jeonghan who requests to handle this part because he doesn't want to risk you getting burnt.

and so you watch as jeonghan carefully heats the chocolate piece by piece over the fire. and you note all of jeonghan's habits you've picked up on over the years. how jeonghan's tongue peaks out from the corner of his mouth when he's super concentrated, how he furrows his brows when he tries to see better, how he forgets to blink when there's one specific thing on his mind. and you feel yourself likewise melting like the chocolate, because even to this day, you still can't fathom how you were so lucky to have jeonghan to call yours.

"i hope you're hungry," jeonghan announces, grinning ear to ear.

you reciprocate the expression. it's assembly time.

you make a mess. it was inevitable, honestly. there was only so much precaution to be taken from your comfy position on the couch, legs and feet all tangled up in each other. and you wouldn't have it any other way.

laughter outshines any noise from the long-forgotten sitcom playing on the TV. each bounce of your shoulder from an accompanying chuckle is followed by the blanket sliding down, just a bit. jeonghan tries to be slick when he drapes his arm around you, a front to make sure he can pull the blanket back up every time it threatens to slip. but this is you. you, who notice everything that jeonghan does for you. you, who's grateful for all of it. you, who don't think you can love jeonghan any more than you already do.

—

an impromptu nap is essential for their post-s'more recovery. the last two love languages, physical touch and quality time, are much harder to gauge. considering jeonghan's affection is usually on full display 24/7 and the fact that he counts his entire lifespan with you as quality time, he can only hope you treasure your moments together as much as he does. and honestly, at this point, jeonghan is much too tired to care about his quest to uncover your love language. the only mission on his mind is to get you as close as possible, and so he seeks to accomplish just that.

pulling you into his arms, you both slump onto your sides, feet dangling off the edge of the couch, hands wrapped around shoulders and backs, and eyes locked unwavering onto the other's. jeonghan slips his bicep under your neck, fashioning a faux pillow, and rests your head against his chest, just above his beating heart.

you squirm in a weak attempt to create some distance between you. (you're not successful.) "i'm gonna get you sick."

jeonghan only snuggles closer. "i don't care," emphasizing his point with a chaste kiss upon your forehead, and then, oh so gently, on your nose, both cheeks, and finally, still ever so softly, on your lips.

you've both long since outgrown the butterflies in your stomachs. what used to elicit sparks of electricity at every touch now resound in echoes of warmth. and lying here, in jeonghan's embrace, in jeonghan's comfort, in jeonghan's life, you feel so safe. you'd spend eternity with jeonghan if you could, but right now, when the passage of time has all but stopped as you continue to hold each other in your own beautiful world, what you have right now is all you want.

—

you both wake up as you were, still entangled in each other's body, each other's affection, each other's hearts.

you let yourself drown in the serenity that was jeonghan before you ask the question that's been tickling the back of your mind the whole day. "what was up with you today? you were oddly kind, even more so than you usually are."

an instant flush of red rises upon jeonghan's cheeks, and if you didn't know any better, you'd think jeonghan was the sick one, not you. "this is gonna sound stupid," jeonghan says.

and to that, your first instinct is to reach for jeonghan's hand and intertwine your fingers, still perfectly warm under the blanket. "nothing you say is ever stupid." it's true. on a scale of endearing to adorable, never once have you thought jeonghan resembled anything close to the word stupid.

jeonghan bites his lip, as he confesses, "i hated seeing how miserable you were, and i wanted to cheer you up, but i forgot what your love language is, so i thought i'd do one of each to see which one you like the most, but you were equally receptive to all of them, and i feel dumb for not knowing what means the most to you."

when you don't immediately respond, jeonghan sighs and chides himself. "i told you, it's stupid."

but you just laugh, sporting a grin so wide your eyes turn into mini crescent moons. "yoon jeonghan, you're ridiculous in the best way possible." you unlace your finger in favor of cupping your palm around jeonghan's cheek, still blazing from embarrassment. "did you know that?"

jeonghan flits his gaze downwards, uncharacteristically shy towards the one person he's bared his entire soul to. "could you still remind me what your love language is?" he sheepishly requests, adding on, "just for future reference."

you just smile, and you hope your words are enough to convey the intensity of the way your whole body swells with an undeniable warmth every time jeonghan does anything. "as long as it's with you," you use your thumb to tilt jeonghan's head back up, ensuring he can see just how sincere you are when you say, "i love it all just the same." and then you lean in, breaths already mingling, lips centimeters from meeting, hearts seconds from colliding, when you whisper, "i love you all just the same."

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turtle-go-brrrr · 3 years

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General bayverse headcanons

Leonardo

Not a morning person

He has his routine and doesn't like to break it, except when he can sleep in

First thing he does when he wakes up is take at least 20 minutes to actually wake up before even considering getting up

He likes setting up breakfast for everyone though

He'd get the cereals, prepare some coffee, tea or hot chocolate, cut some fruits etc

Doesn't like when someone prepare his

Except if its Mikey

Leo's a book nerd

He likes mysteries and thrillers the most, but won't turn up his nose at some romance

Not a super big fan of fantasy, but there are some exceptions

Really doesn't like science fiction

Once got scared of a pidgeon

He was on patrol with his brothers and was looking out in the distance when the bird flew right next to his face

Only Donnie saw him and he won't let him live it down

Despite being the voice of reason of the group, he won't turn down pranks if they're directed either at Vern or Casey

They're so easy to mess with, and he has the luxury of hiding behind his reputation

April once told him "you could stand above a still warm body with a fuming gun in your hands and I would ask you to put it down to avoid putting your handprints on it"

Translation: he can do whatever he wants, no one will ever suspect him

He's not the best listener but he has the patience of a god

And he's trying his best to be better at listening when his brothers try to tell him about their problems (personal or mission related) tho he has some work to do still

Good singer, but terrible dancer (which is a surprise to everyone because he's really graceful on the battlefield)

His favorite animal is the Guinea pig

Donatello

Contrary to popular beliefs, this boy does sleep

Not that much, like 5 hours per night at most, but still

Better than nothing

And no, he doesn't feed exclusively on coffee, pop tarts and pizza, that would kill him (even tho it took him a while to understand that)

He's trying to get healthier eating habits

When he can't bother to cook himself some veggies, he tries to drink fruit juices to get those vitamins

Makes himself some homebrew omelettes where he just puts a little bit of every leftover in it so he can "get a little bit of every nutrients he needs"

It's kind of gross sometimes, but it works

Speaking of which, he makes the worst food combos

Like, he has no dignity

"I swear Dr Pepper and milk isnt as bad as it sounds", he says, trying to justify his favorite abomination.

Adds a bit of olive juice to it sometimes

Even Mikey is grossed out

Infodumps on his brothers at the most random time about stupid stuff

Like he'll see a random neon sign and give a 1 minute short lighting lesson and then never mention it again

His favorite animal is the Bearded Vulture

Raphael

Loves being the first to get up in the morning because the calmness of the lair soothes him

He talks in his sleep tho

Either says the wildest shit or talk normally, enough to make other people think he's awake and genuinely conversing

(He's not, and when they realize it's kinda awkward)

He also giggles in his sleep, and its terrifying

Loves animated movies

He loves that because they're supposed to be for kids, writers have to works hard and be creative to avoid censorship if they wanna tackle heavy themes

Which is often way more compelling to him than "adult" shows, where heavy violence and random sex scenes are everywhere

He also loves indie animation studios like E.S.M.A. and such

His favorite music genre is Epic rock and he likes listening to it before going on patrol (makes him feel badass)

He used to be the most physically affectionate of the bunch when they were kids, and could spend hours in Splinter's arms

He still does sometimes

While it takes him a while to trust someone, once he does he's gonna be the most annoying little shit you've ever met

If you're family to him, he's gonna annoy you to death

Mikey teases, Raph annoys

His favorite animal is the cat

Michelangelo

A heavy sleeper, but it takes him at least an hour of complete stillness before being able to fall asleep

And we all know he can have a lot of trouble standing still

While Leo's the one putting food on the table in the morning, Mikey is the one cooking it (if it needs to)

He has a playlist of soft musics from various games and movies, or ambient sounds like rain, fireplace, thunder etc

Sneeze like a kitten

But blow his nose like a dad (you know, shakes the whole lair and whatnot?)

He's the one who points out every stray cat they see when they're on the surface with an "aaannww!! It looked at me!!!"

Talks to animals as if they understand him and treats them like people

He's also the one getting spiders out of the lair

Except if they're too big. Then they ask Splinter to call April (they're all too embarrassed to do it themselves)

Huge history nerd

He tends to infodump on Donnie the most and then they'll just infodump back and forth about their special interest

The others just watch it unfold like a tennis match, wondering which one of them will run out of things to say first

(It was Donnie)

He has tons of WIPs of short stories he's written, or plots he finds interesting or that kind of stuff

His favorite animal is the whaleshark

#bayverse tmnt #tmnt #tmnt headcanons #tmnt leonardo #tmnt donatello #tmnt raphael #tmnt michelangelo #they are all big nerds in their own ways #donnis is the most obvious one but they're all guilty #i love them #my writing

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mxvladdy · 3 years

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Hello! I love your writing and I may have a prompt, if it strikes your fancy. I'm aware it might not be entirely lore-friendly a request, but I love relationship shenanigans in Obey Me, so I got to ask: how do you think Luci, Diavolo, Satan and Beel would help their anxious SO adjust when MC begins demonstrating mad prowess in witchcraft right after they first spend the night together? Sex, power and pacts seem to go hand-in-hand in related media, but no one really planned for it in their case!

Awww thankie and sorry for the long wait! I’m glad you like my writing! I hope you like this! It gave me big thirst lmaooo

Lucifer

Mmmm you smell of him in the morning. He positively oozes from your every pore. Rich and spicy, like amber and freshly turned earth.

Good. Let it be known to all that you were claimed. Thoroughly.

He put his daily routine on hold for you this morning. He was weak to your pouting.

He’ll stay in bed for a little bit to indulge you. But duty calls and work waits for no demon

Neither of you really pay attention to how hard you are clinging to him when he tries to extract himself to get dressed

You both just kind of chalk it up to neither of you want to part

The day goes on as usual for him, meetings, paperwork, meetings, punishing Mammon, meetings

But the whole time something was nagging at him. He just couldn’t put his finger on it. He just felt like he forgot something important

But that’s impossible-

The wall explodes out behind him cutting Lucifer off mid-sentence. The rubble and great ball of flames miss him and Diavolo by mere inches only because of the latter’s quick reflexes. “Are you alright my friend?” Diavolo asks golden eyes alight with surprise. Lucifer could feel the prince’s defensive magic prickling his skin in response to the pungent magic wafting out of the hole.

“Of course-” Lucifer steps back, straightening his jacket’s lapels, the near-miss ruffles his feathers. Both men step closer to the hole. His hackles raise. The power emanating from the crater was far too familiar. Someone dares to use his magical signatures without permission. Snarling into the abyss he marches forward. He ignores Diavolo’s calls to wait and strides through the hole. His wings flare up from his back along with his temper. He walks through each wave of magic that washes over him. With each destroyed wall he steps through more and more of his demonic form comes forth till he is more beast than man. Strolling through the final hole he stops. His red eyes sweep across the scene in front of him. As the seconds' tick by his mood morphs from rage to shock, then to a sense of blinding pride.

“Well-” He crosses his arms and smirks. He turns his gaze to the epicenter of the damage.

“Luci, I am so so sorry.” You mutter aghast behind your fingers. “I-I don’t know what happened.” You were never the best student in any of the practical classes. The teachers made exceptions for you and your lack of magical prowess. In this class, the teacher always paired you up with Solomon or Luke so they could help you prepare the necessary spells and runes. But you felt so different today, stronger and sharper. Damn near unstoppable even. Just the thought of someone else doing your work made something deep inside you seethe. You didn’t need help, you’ve seen and heard the incantations a thousand times before- it wouldn’t hurt to try…Well, let’s rephrase that, it didn’t hurt you to try.

The classroom was totaled. Dust, rubble, and burning pages all float around you like a post-apocalyptic snowstorm. Soot from your uncontrolled spell blacked your clothes and skin, next to you Solomon stands rigid in shock white brows disappearing into his hairline. Quietly you lick your thumb and forefinger and put out the small blue flame singeing his bangs. “Thanks.” He spits out around a mouthful of ash and grit.

Lucifer coughs to draw all eyes back to him. He takes inventory of the room, making sure all the other students scattered about were still breathing. Satisfied he beckons to you with a finger. “Come.” You jump into motion, scrambling up and over the rubble to grab his outstretched hand.

“Lucifer.” He cuts you off.

“Not here,” He smiles warmly rubbing at some soot staining the tip of your nose. “Come let’s get you cleaned up.”

_____________

“Should I be worried?” You ask, stepping out of Lucifer’s private showers wrapped in one of his sinfully soft towels. “I’m not going to blow stuff up on a whim now, right?” You plop down on his bedroom’s couch. Lucifer hums noncommittally by his liquor cabinet.

“I doubt it. How do you feel?” He takes a seat beside you handing you a glass and grabbing your legs to drape them over his. You take a swig from the glass, the heat of the liquor getting rid of the lingering shock from class. How did you feel?

Your bones hum with some unknown energy and there was a fire coursing through your veins. “I feel like I could take on the world. Like I dominate half of the Devildom.” Lucifer’s smile was nothing short of smug.

“Good.” He sips his drink.

“Good?” You lean forward expectantly.

Lucifer strokes your cheek coming in to inhale your fresh scent. The commingling of his and your own was beyond arousing. “There is more than one way to seal and strengthen a pact, my beloved.” He pulls you into a chastened kiss, feeling your cheeks heat with a dawning realization of what he meant. “You have now given yourself to me in both body and soul. The- bonus perks were inevitable.” He parts from you, reaching for his glass.

“Will it go away?” You honestly didn’t know if you could handle any more curveballs down here.

Lucifer laughs swirling the dredges of his drink before downing it in one go. “Ideally no- but over time if it isn’t reinforced it will weaken and disappear on its own.”

“Reinforced?” The heat of your drink seems to dip lower down your body. Your demon scoffs giving you a knowing look.

He drags you onto his lap. “Are you truly satisfied with just a night with me αγαπούλα μου?” A gloved finger tugs at the hem of your towel. “If I had my way I would keep you full and drunk on my power for all eternity.” He captures you in a searing kiss draping you over the cushions of his couch, his eyes turning predatory. “Do not worry about the side effects.” He purrs caging you in. “We have all the time in the world to get you accustomed to them.”

Diavolo

He knew. This bitch knew before he ever got you in his bed-chamber. Just think of the entertainment value~

So when he sweeps you up into his quarters for the night day weekend, he just forgets to mention it to you

He is curious about how his magic will affect a human of celestial descent. Will it show up all at once? Or over a long period of time? He hopes that your blood doesn’t cancel out his claim on you

He watches you like a hawk for a while- and nothing…

Hmm. Perhaps it just didn’t take the first time? No matter, try-try-try again as the saying goes. He certainly doesn’t see you complaining

But as the week passes he slowly puts it on his backburner as his work begins to pile up again

You on the other hand are having a time. One day you are fine and dandy and the next you can read and write in languages you’ve never even heard of.

Then you started seeing some frankly crazy shit. Had the ghost at the house always been this active?

The last straw for you was accidentally freezing half of the house’s rose garden with a sneeze. To say you are panicked is an understatement

Frazzled you run to the only mage you could (kinda) trust

“It’s not funny!” You hiss frantically staring bewildered at your friend. Your look of panic just makes him laugh harder. “Stop seriously Solomon! Gods, what did I do?” You scrub at your face hard. If you made yet another freaking pact with a demon you were going to lose it. Seven idiots were enough for several lifetimes.

Solomon howls at this, drawing curious and rude looks from the surrounding tables of the tea house. You swat at his shoulder hissing like a cat. “Sorry- sorry” He hiccups. “Your turn of phrase was just so fitting.” He collects himself by taking a sip of his tea. “Tell me, what have you been doing of late?” He smirks around the rim of his cup.

You squint at him not getting it. His keen eyes drift down to land on the garden of purple and blue bruises littering your neck. You slap a hand over your hickeys. He smiles leaning over conspiratorially. “What’s it like to sleep with a God? The perks are amazing no?”

You shook your head. “I-what perks?”

“Oh~ Loverboy didn’t warn you of certain side-effects?” The mage leans back in his chair. He was going to have a great time today. ___________

Unbelievable. You march up the walkway to the palace, your mind absolutely reeling. Did he know about this? Of course, he did-how could he not! Did he just forget? No- Diavolo was many things, smart, cunning, conniving, but never forgetful. You knew him well and knew he had to be on the lookout for “side effects” as Solomon put it.

Fine, two can play at this game.

“Ah! Mio Giglio! How are you?” Dia glances up from his mountainous amount of paperwork when you throw open his office door. He rises in one fluid motion to scoop you up in a tight hug. Now that you know what to look for, you hone into the way he holds you. His large hands run down your back and sides possessively, he clings to you rubbing his bulking frame on you like a cat marking you. He leans in close to rub the bridge of his strong nose up and down your clavicle and neck. You feel his hot breath on your skin when he exhales. How had you not noticed this?

“Good, and you?” You smile into the fabric of his shirt. Carefully you wrap your arms around his solid waist. You hug him lightly so as to not give away your little surprise.

“Better with you here.” He chuckles stepping back to return to his desk. You follow closely behind waiting for the perfect time to strike. “What have you been up to?” He asks innocently, going to sit back down. “I haven’t seen you in a few days.”

You hum nonchalantly coming up behind him to rub at his tense shoulders. “Nothing much.” He nods closing his eyes as your fingers dig into sore muscles. “Usual school week, made some new friends...Went shopping with Asmo and Luke this morning. Bought you some treats, hidden from Barbatos of course.” You drop a quick peck on his cheek. Diavolo smiles sinking lower into his chair. He hopped it was something with lemon or orange, they were in season now. Barbatos had been on the warpath with his sugar and carb intake of late. “Then I had tea with Solomon and he filled me in on some very interesting facts.” You kiss his hairline.

“Mmmm?”

You pull away from his warmth to come around to straddle his lap while he is distracted. He jerks at your sudden weight on his lap but relaxes almost immediately. He opens a golden eye, not even realizing he had closed them. Your demeanor shifts when his gaze is fully set on you, all sweet innocence gone. A cheshire grin spreads across your face. “Funny you should ask if I’m feeling ok. I have been feeling a bit off of late.”

Diavolo tenses. “Are you well?” He tries to reach for you, his arms coming off the armrests of his desk chair. You strike like a viper, your small hands wrap and lock around his thick wrists pinning them to the chair. His eyes bulge in shock. You watch coyly as his biceps bulge under his clothes. He tries to break free for a few minutes before settling back. “I see-”

Leaning in you brush your lips across his ears, heart racing with excitement. “You forgot to mention quite a few things, Dia.” The low purr he emits shakes both of you.

“My apologies.” He admits. “You know I love a good show. Shame I missed it.” He throws you a rogue smile. “Forgive me?”

You slide closer until you rested chest to chest, legs wrapping around his to pin him down further. His purr drops down an octave. Locking eyes with him you remove a hand from his wrist daring him to move. He doesn’t. You move slowly and deliberately resting your hand on his strong neck. His reaction was instantaneous. His pupils dilate, and the gold of his irises turn molten. You start to feel his magic seep out, you match it, giddy with excitement that you could. “Only if you work for it.” You smirk.

Diavolo nods readily, licking at his dry lips in anticipation. He was more than ready to atone.

Satan

He is a good noodle and has the decency to tell you what will happen beforehand

It’s only polite to give you a heads up before he breaks your headboard

You both are curious about how it will affect you. He at least is excited to teach you some practical magic

Plus the idea of you pranking Lucifer with magic? Sublime.

He smells it blossoming under your skin while you sleep.

It’s sharp and minty with a smoky finish. Then the power hits him like a brick to the face. He is in awe.

It’s like an electrifying feedback loop that just energizes and excites him and you feel it too. He’ll lose himself in you and your body again, hyped up on the headiness of it all.

Once he has *cough* cleared his head *cough* he takes you out to try out your newly found powers. He has so many things he wants to teach you.

Satan kneels beside you nodding his head in approval at your chalk markings. Your lines weren’t exactly steady, he could see how your hand shook as you copied his paperwork but you followed it dutifully. He finds your nervousness adorable as if he would let anything bad happen to you. At his go-ahead, you get to your feet. Turning your palms down towards your summoning circle you recite your spell and watch in amazement as your runes glow bright green underneath you. In a flash of blinding lights and smoke, you sense the pull of the creature emerging from your rune work. Delighted you look down at your handy work.

“Congratulations my darling, exceptionally done.” He grins proudly from his perch by his bookshelf.

You bend down and pick up the little critter. “What is it?” It looked like a blob of flan but firmer. Its squishy form shivers in your palm when you poked it. Its body giving way under your gentle poke. It was dark green but lightened to an electric green at its base. It was surprisingly warm.

You feel Satan coming up behind you to rest his chin on your shoulder. “It looks to be a lesser familiar, not bad for your first time summoning ever.” The jelly wiggles at his praise even though you couldn’t find any discernible features on its smooth little body. You turn it this way and that in your hand, even though it didn’t have eyes you could sense it was sizing you up to.

“What can it do?” You raise a brow at your companion. His arms circle your waist, his grin turning mischievous.

“Let's find out.”

________

Your lungs burn, each breath coming hard and sharp while you run. The sound of your pounding feet was swallowed up by the rush of foot traffic around you. Satan drags you behind him ushering you both around the throng of students. “Quickly!” He looks over his shoulder and flashes you a brilliant smile. “The further away from his office we are the less likely he could blame us.”

You laugh breathlessly along with him.

________

“What Belphie say?” You lean onto Satan’s shoulder to peek at his phone. The two of you sit, crowding in on each other's space underneath a desk in one of the unused classrooms.

“It’s glorious. Everything is covered. He says it looks like magic won’t remove it either!” He cackles showing you his screen. Belphie sent him a selfie. He is grinning devilishly from ear to ear throwing you both a peace sign through the screen. In the background, you could clearly see a very irate Lucifer. His face was red with fury and his clothes covered in green goo. His office was wrecked. Your little jelly did a number on it, you hadn’t expected it to expand as large as it did. Your familiar popping on the edge of Lucifer’s desk wasn’t intended either, but totally worth it. “Think you can summon another?” Satan asks, darkening his screen. You shake your head, whatever power you had earlier today had been drained after your little stunt.

Satan nods in understanding. “Shame- imagine what one of your jellies could do to Diavolo’s office.”

“Satan-”

He chuckles wrapping an arm around your back. He plants a loud kiss onto your forehead. “Alright-alright. Perhaps after a bit of a rest and recharge?”

You poke his leg playfully and laugh. “If you wanted to have sex again you could just ask.”

He dips low and kisses you. “Well then- if you are up for another round of delinquency…”

Beelzebub

Sweet baby didn’t know-

Well, he knew about it. Lucifer had given everyone “the talk” about it a couple of millennia ago.

He never really thought about it before you because he didn’t sleep with humans often (Him so big, human so smol if he isn’t paying attention it could be...bad)

So when you drag him into your room he just doesn’t think about it. You are both so oblivious

He doesn’t think about the shift in your scent, your kisses were just as sweet as always. If there was a peppery aftertaste to your kiss he chalks it up to something you had for breakfast

He doesn’t think anything of it when you practically drag him from your bed to shower together before school

He doesn’t think about it when at lunch your appetite starts to rival his

He starts to think about it during P.E. when your dodge ball puts a demon down for the rest of class

He definitely notices when you pin him down to steal his sandwich during your picnic date

Now he’s freaking out, whether it's because you are showing inhuman strength or the fact that you stole his food who knows

You nab yet another one of his sandwiches and start munching away with a hum of happiness. “Hey, babe.” He rumbles beneath you. “You feeling alright?” He wraps his large hands around your waist. Your weight was warm and comfortable over his prone form. He had whisked you away for an afternoon picnic, something to spend more time with you alone. After last night he craved being around you more than anything. He had packed enough food for him in mind. But it looks like it wouldn’t be enough. Odd. Beel rests his head back on the thick blanket protecting you both from the slightly damp grass underneath.

“Hmm?” You swallow down a mouthful of ruben. “Yeah! Famished though.” You lean back on his strong hip and swipe your finger around your mouth to brush off some crumbs. You reach for the other half of his sandwich to devour but pauses when you catch Beel’s kicked puppy look. With a huff of amusement, you offer the other half to him letting him chomp down with a fanged smile in thanks.

He chews in silence, watching you pick up a bowl of fresh fruit. Hmmm… He runs his rough palms up and down your thighs and hips ignoring your squirming and giggles when he runs over the thin skin of your sides. He squeezes you lightly. Huh- Your muscles were firmer than this morning, now that he was looking closer he could see that your frame was a bit sturdier too. Still his perfectly lovable and squishy human but more solid around the edges. In a last-ditch effort to figure out what has changed, he reaches out for his pact mark.

He jerks forward, upsetting your position on his lap, causing you to tumble backward, fruit flying everywhere. “Beel!” You shriek. He shushes you, squeezing your cheeks between warm hands.

“I forgot.”

“You forgot?” You repeat. “What dessert? I’m pretty sure the fruit was part of it...but I mean. If you want grassy cantaloupe it’s all yours.” You eye the remains of the seasonal fruit laying around you and then at the basket. You were pretty sure you saw some pastries at the bottom of it too.

“We had sex.” He blurts out bluntly, and quite loudly.

Your face heats. “Yes, thank you for the reminder.” You push him off sitting up on your elbows. “Please, why don’t you yell it out for all the wildlife to hear too.”

Beelzebub shakes his head groaning. “No-I forgot to warn you about our pact.”

Ahh-oh. You eye him wearily. If he was stressing you were stressing, it wasn’t like him to get so bent out of shape. “Ok-is it, like bad?” What were you going to die? That would be a big thing to just forget. “How about you fill me in big guy.” You listen enraptured while he jerkily explains how you have strengthened your bond exponentially without even realizing it. Magic, super strength, the appetite, all because you jumped his bones.

Nice.

It sounded so cool- but then overwhelming all at the same time. Was it permanent? What if you lost control and actually hurt someone for real.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think about it-I just. You felt so good.” He wilts. “I should have been more careful- this is the first time I’ve done this.”

“Beel-”

“I swear.” He bulldozes over you. “I didn’t mean to keep this from you.”

You cut him off, combing your fingers through his hair soothingly. “I believe you, Beel.” You smile reassuringly. “It’s not like it’s gonna hurt me...right?” He thinks about it for a minute then grunts, shaking his head. You grin brighter stretching out your arms. “And I get some cool powers right?”

He nods again. “For a bit yes.”

You get up off the ground excitedly. “Right then! You’ll show me the ropes right? I’ve never done anything magical before!” You look at your palms as if fire or sparks were going to fly out of them. Beel rises to his feet too.

“You sure? I doubt I will be as good of a mentor as Lucifer or even Belphie.” He looks around the large grove of trees and sprawling grassy acreage around you both. You both were far away from the populated areas of the mountain pass and town. He could practice with you freely and without worrying about damaging anything important. “Not the date I promised, but if you really want me to show you some stuff…” He offers you a shy smile. He did have a few cool tricks he could show you. You nod already rolling up your sleeves. Well- if this was what you really wanted then he would be glad to show you.

#obey me #obey me fan fic #request!#obey me luficer #obey me diavolo #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub

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mldrgrl · 3 years

Text

The New Addition

by: mldrgrl rating: PG-13 Summary: Hanella welcomes a guest for the weekend

Even more rare than a call from Becca was a FaceTime. Texting was more her style. So, when Hank picked up his phone and saw the incoming video call, he answered immediately.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“That’s how you answer your phone?” Becca said. “Why does something have to be wrong?”

“Many apologies, Daughter, but the infrequency with which you grace us with your face from a remote location are rare as natural breasts on a porn star.”

“Do you think that’s an appropriate thing to say to a daughter, Father?”

“Fuck no, but surprise calls make me nervous. What’s up, Kitten?”

“Don’t ever call me that again. Is Stella there?”

“Yeah, I think she was grading some exams or something, hang on.” Hank turned away from the phone and leaned over the sofa to try to see down the hall to the back room she was using as a study. “Stella! Stelllllllaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

“Oh my god, why are you screaming at her?” Becca said.

“I like to take the opportunity to rehearse my Stanley Kowalski impression when I can. Here she comes.”

Stella came down the hall with her hands on her hips and her brows raised. Hank held his phone up so she could see Becca on the screen and she immediately dropped her hands from her hips and softened her brows, but she quickened her step.

“Becca, darling,” Stella said. “What’s the matter?”

“This is why I only text,” Becca said.

“Well, if you called more, we wouldn’t think shit had hit the fan somewhere.”

Hank opened up his arm as Stella came around to the sofa and sat down. She leaned against him and he adjusted his grip on the phone so they were both in the frame and so that she could also see Becca.

“I have someone I want you to meet,” Becca said.

“How the hell did you meet someone during a pandemic?” Hanks asked. “Oh my god, are you online dating? You know those people usually turn out to be serial killers.”

“Dad!”

“Darling, don’t worry, it’s still statistically a very low probability even if related crimes have been on the rise. Give me his name and social security number and I’ll run a background check.”

“Or her,” Hank interjected. “We’re still holding out hope she’s a lesbian.”

“This is the last time I am ever calling you,” Becca said.

“Does your mother know about this guy?”

“Or girl,” Stella added.

Becca sighed and rolled her eyes. She leaned down and tilted her phone at the same time so the view was of her ceiling and then she came back into frame with a small, brown poodle. “This is Ziggy,” she said. “A friend of a friend of mine was giving away her dog’s puppies and I picked him up this morning.”

“Lovely,” Stella said. “He’s very handsome.”

“I haven’t even met him, but I guarantee this is my favorite guy you’ve ever introduced me to,” Hank added. “Now you’ll be far too busy for online dating.”

“I’m not online dating, but I’m wondering if you can do me a favor?”

“What’s the favor?”

“Next month I have the writer’s retreat scheduled upstate. It’s just for a long weekend, Friday to Monday, can you watch Ziggy for me? He’ll probably be housetrained by then. Maybe. Hopefully.”

“Of course,” Stella answered, as Hank also said “Not a chance.”

Becca grimaced slightly. “It’s just that I’d really rather not have to put him in a kennel. I guess I can call Mom and see if she can pick him up, but it’s so far.”

Stella squeezed Hank’s knee. “You don’t need to call Karen,” she said. “We would love to watch him.”

“Fine,” Hank said.

“Thank you.” Becca smiled and held the dog closer to the phone. “Ziggy says thank you as well.”

Hank ended the call and then turned to look at Stella. She tipped her head back to look at him as well. He tried to scowl and she smiled.

“Why did you say no?” Stella asked.

“Why did you say yes?” he countered.

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you second.”

“Because I don’t see a reason to say no.”

“Because I got her a dog once and where do you think that dog is now?”

“I wouldn’t know, where is it?”

“I have no fucking idea, that’s the point. I went through all the trouble to steal the little fucker from the boyfriend of this woman I was...uh, actually it’s irrelevant how I acquired the dog, let’s just say I got a dog for Becca and fuck if I know what happened to the late, great Cat Stevens.”

“What in the world does Cat Stevens have to do with it?”

“That was the dog.”

Stella patted Hank on the knee and then tried to get up from the couch, but Hank pulled her back down. “I have to grade papers,” she said.

“I just wanted to make sure you knew about the naked shower party I’m having tonight.”

“Wouldn’t any shower party be naked by virtue of being a shower party?”

“That’s a very good point, Sherlock. I’d revise the invitation, but I’d rather just be redundant.”

“Mmhm.” She pushed on his knee and this time he let her up. “Text me the details, I need to get back to grading.”

“What, like a dick pic?” he called after her.

She glanced over her shoulder at him with one eyebrow raised. He waited until she was back in the study to unbutton his jeans.

*****

Becca dropped the dog off on a Friday morning, bright and early. Stella was awake to prepare for one of her classes, but Hank was still asleep. He didn’t hear the drop-off, but when he woke up and wandered into the kitchen to make coffee, he tripped over the dog, stubbed his toe, and shouted a ‘motherfucker’ so loud he was pretty sure he was going to get scolded for it later. The dog ran away.

“Yeah, you better run,” Hank mumbled, limping to the coffeemaker. “Fuck.”

Stella startled him not a minute later when she smacked him on the ass. He jumped and rubbed at his stinging backside, turning to her with a pout. She was holding the dog in her arms and it was whimpering and holding on to her neck with its head turned away from him.

“What was that for?” he grumbled.

“First, for shouting expletives whilst I was on a lecture.”

“I’m sorry, Sherlock, I didn’t mean to. Did they hear me?”

“No, fortunately, I was on mute. There are student presentations today. Which I must return to.”

“The damn dog tripped me and I stubbed my toe. It might be broken.” He leaned against the counter and lifted his foot up to show her his foot. “See.”

Stella reached out and took a light hold on his toe. He made a face at her and she gave it a rough tug to which he yelped and pulled his foot back.

“You’re fine,” she said.

“You’re mean.”

“Please don’t make enemies with Becca’s dog for the weekend.”

“He started it.”

Stella handed the dog over to Hank and gave it a scratch on the head before she walked away. “I put the instructions on the refrigerator,” she said. “Give them a read and then make yourself useful and take him for a walk.”

Hank pulled a sheet of instructions out from the magnet on the refrigerator and read through them. They were very detailed. Too detailed. He wanted to crumble them up into a little ball and burn them.

“Ridiculous,” he said to the dog. “When we left Becca with the babysitter the only unwritten rule was just not to kill her. You’re a dog, you should be pretty self-sufficient. Just don’t piss on the rug and don’t shit in any of my shoes and we’ll get along fine. Deal?”

The dog twisted and wriggled in Hank’s arms to be put down and so Hank put him on the floor. The dog sat down and then lifted a paw to scratch at Hank’s knee.

“Make up your mind, Zig. Up or down, what do you want?”

The dog barked once and then sneezed.

“I don’t speak canine.”

Ziggy whined softly and pawed at Hank’s knee again. The coffeemaker beeped behind Hank and he turned around to shut it off. He poured the coffee into a travel mug and left the cap off so it could cool a bit.

“Okay, Stella says you need a walk,” he said. “I need to put some pants on. Don’t lay anywhere where you blend into the floor. I need my toes.”

The dog followed Hank into the bedroom and immediately jumped on the bed. Hank shooed him off and undaunted, he explored from corner to corner, sniffing the walls and the furniture and the clothes on the floor. Hank snatched up the jeans Ziggy was nosing and put them on. He grabbed a fresh t-shirt from the closet and then went to dig through a duffel bag that Becca left for the dog’s leash.

It took Hank several attempts at getting the harness onto the dog. Number one, because he kept stepping out of it as soon as Hank got it on one foot. Number two, because he initially put it on backwards and didn’t know how the clip could possibly work when it was under the dog’s chest. He finally figured it out though and it seemed secure. He grabbed his keys, his wallet, a mask, and the coffee and headed to the elevator.

The half an hour walk with Ziggy made Hank understand the meaning of the term ‘boundless energy.’ If it wasn’t for the coffee, he couldn’t be sure he’d have made it. When they got back, he unclipped the dog from his harness and even though it felt like they’d just run a marathon, Ziggy dashed across the room and hurdled himself onto the sofa where Stella was now sitting. To Hank’s surprise, Stella laughed as she dodged excited kisses from the dog and didn’t scold him at all or tell him to get down.

“I am exhausted,” Hank said, collapsing onto the sofa beside Stella. He grimaced and let out a pained ‘oof’ as the dog stepped on his crotch and up onto his chest. “Fuck me, this dog is trying to kill me.”

“Have a nice walk?” Stella asked.

“That thing had to piss every five feet and terrorize all the squirrels and pigeons in the neighborhood.” Hank pushed Ziggy away when he tried to lick his chin and the dog laid down on his chest, panting hot and heavy in his face.

“How’s your toe?”

“What toe? Oh. Not broken, I guess.”

“Lovely.”

“He is a total chick magnet though,” Hank said, waggling his eyebrows at Stella. “Ladies were flocking to me like flies to honey. Almost got a few numbers.”

“Oh?”

“Don’t worry I told them my wife would kick my ass before she let me take a hot girl’s phone number.”

“I think I might join you for this afternoon’s walk.”

Hank chuckled and nudged Stella’s leg with his knee. “Kidding, Sherlock. Some kid did ask me if Ziggy had an Insta and then had to explain to me that any dog who’s anydog has an Instagram account and we should get on it the sooner the better if we want him to be a doggie influencer.”

“A what?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Looks like you have a new nap partner.” Stella inclined her chin towards the dog, who had dropped his head down to Hank’s shoulder and let out a deep sigh as his eyes closed. She smiled a little and stroked the dog’s back a few times.

“I didn’t know you liked dogs so much,” Hank said.

“More of a cat person, really. I don’t mind them though.”

“Did you read that list Becca left? It’s more complicated than the Treaty of Versailles.”

Stella chuckled. “It is a rather overly complicated schedule. For a dog.”

“I say fuck the list. I kept her ass alive for the requisite 18 years without a list, I can probably handle a dog for a weekend.”

“Tell that to Cat Stevens.”

“Oh yeah. Wherever the fuck he is. Okay, maybe we better stick to the list. Though I would like to point out, Cat was Becca’s dog.”

“Maybe that’s why she made a list this time.”

*****

Ziggy was sound asleep when Hank turned off the lights in the main room. The dog was passed out on his back, in his bed beside the couch, tongue lolling out of his mouth. Hank tiptoed past him into the bedroom and quietly shut the door. Stella was in the bathroom brushing her teeth. He came up behind her and pressed her into the counter with his hips, sneaking his hands up her shirt to massage her breasts.

Stella grunted slightly through her nose and pushed her hips back into Hank’s. She put her hand up to hold her hair back and Hank pulled his hands out from her shirt to do it for her. She leaned over to spit into the sink and he held her hair with one hand and stroked her neck with the other.

“Thank you,” she said.

Hank finger-combed Stella’s hair up into his fist at the top of her head while she wiped her mouth and then he let it go and rubbed her shoulders. She turned around and he held her by the hips.

“Where’s the dog?” she asked.

“Outside smoking a cigarette.”

“Do you think he should go outside once more?”

“He’s dead asleep. He was like…” Hank imitated the dog, rolling his eyes back and sticking his tongue out of the side of his mouth.

“You’re the one that was worried about him urinating on the rug.”

Hank pouted his lips and then nodded. “Fine, I’ll take him upstairs. But, you better be naked when I come back, or else I’m sleeping on the couch with the dog.”

“I don’t think that’s the threat you believe it to be.”

Hank narrowed his eyes and pinched Stella’s hip before putting his mouth to her neck and nipping lightly at the back of her jaw. She laughed and pushed at his chest until he let her go. He playfully slapped at her backside on the way out of the bathroom and she swatted his hands away.

The dog was still sleeping when he opened the door, but he whistled softly and Ziggy startled to his feet and then shook himself. “Come on, hairball, we’re going outside.” He snapped his fingers a few times and the dog followed him to the door to the roof.

Ziggy was hesitant on the stairs, taking them slowly and pausing every few steps to get his footing as he hopped up. He ran around the newly landscaped deck, sniffing just about every nook and cranny and lifting his leg on half of them. It had gotten chilly since the sun went down and Hank, in bare feet and a t-shirt, hopped up and down a few times and rubbed his arms as he called the dog back.

Hank was forced to carry the dog down the stairs when he wouldn’t budge from the top. He made a few false starts, but ultimately sat down and wouldn’t move. When he put him down, Ziggy stared up at him and then stayed closed to his legs as he went back to the bedroom.

“You, stay,” Hank said, pointing to the dog bed.

Ziggy sat down next to the bed. Hank closed the door. Stella was sitting up in bed, reading a magazine or journal, which she set down on her lap and took her reading glasses off.

“Did you really think that’s going to work?” she asked.

“He’s fine.”

Before Hank even finished, Ziggy was yelping and scratching at the door. Stella raised her brows and Hank sighed. He opened the door and the dog came flying through, jumped on the bed and leapt onto Stella with his paws on her chest, wagging his tail and kissing her cheek and chin.

“Settle, darling,” Stella said, turning her face away and pushing the dog back. He gave a whining bark as he dropped down.

“Do they make ritalin for dogs?”

“He’s just a baby.”

Hank kicked the dog bed into the bedroom and then pushed it against the wall with his foot. “Go get in your bed,” he said.

Ziggy laid down where he was, next to Stella. He put his head on his paws and lifted his eyes up at Hank.

“Now he’s giving me puppy dog eyes,” Hank said.

“Shockingly, I believe that’s where that term came from.”

“Well, I don’t like it. It’s too effective.”

“Resign yourself to the fact that we have a little guest for the weekend.”

Hank grumbled under his breath as he went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. He stripped to his jockey shorts and snapped off the overhead lights on his way back. Ziggy looked up from beside Stella like Hank was the intruder. He even had the audacity to give a little growl when Hank leaned over to give his wife a kiss. Annoyed, Hank flopped onto his back and the dog scooted closer and rested his head on his arm.

“Oh, now you want to be nice,” Hank said, reaching over to scratch the dog on the head. “I’m surprised Becca hasn’t called.”

“What do you mean?”

“To check up on the dog or let us know she made it to the retreat.”

“She’s been texting me all day.”

“What? What did she want?”

“Checking up on the dog.”

“She doesn’t trust us?”

“You didn’t question her motivations five seconds ago when you were surprised she hadn’t called.”

“I like to be fickle to keep you on your toes.”

Ziggy sighed and squirmed until he was on his back, all four paws limp in the air. Stella chuckled and rubbed his chest before she closed her magazine and tossed it onto the nightstand.

“We’re letting this thing stay up here, then?” Hank asked.

“Yes.”

“I think I’m more of a cat person too.”

*****

Hank was surprised that the dog was no trouble during the night. He woke briefly when Stella, always an early riser, got up and said she was going to take Ziggy for his morning walk and when she got back, would be entering in project results into her electronic gradebook for a bit. He grunted in response and mumbled a reminder to leave him some coffee.

When he finally woke fully, left the bedroom far more cautiously than he had the previous morning. Ziggy was nowhere to be found, but as soon as he started puttering in the kitchen, the dog appeared. Hank crouched down and gave him a few scratches.

“What were you up to, hm?” he asked. “Getting into trouble?”

Ziggy followed Hank as he went to the bedroom, most likely interested in the piece of toast in his hand. Hank held the toast between his teeth, wiped his hands on his jeans, and picked up his phone from the nightstand to text Becca.

Morning sweetheart. The furball is good. Not to worry. Haven’t shipped him off to a kennel yet and probably won’t. Have a good time at the retreat.

Hank took a bite of his toast and then tore a piece off and tossed it to the dog. Ziggy caught it mid-air. About thirty seconds later, he heard Stella calling his name and he snapped his fingers at the dog to get him to follow him out of the bedroom.

“What’s up?” Hank asked, and shoved the rest of the toast into his mouth.

“What did you say to Becca?”

“Hm?” he mumbled, mouth full.

“She just texted me and said you’ve implied the dog has been sent to a kennel and wants proof of life.”

“No I didn’t,” he said. “I said I haven’t sent the dog to a kennel so she doesn’t need to worry.”

“Why would you say that to her?”

“So she wouldn’t worry.”

“Well, she’s worried.”

“That’s not my fault.”

“I’ll send her a photo. Ziggy, come here, darling.”

Stella kissed the air a few times, but Ziggy thought trying to be caught was a game. He bounded away from Stella and then stopped and bowed down, his hind end in the air and tail wagging. She patted her knee for him to come, but he just jumped a few feet to the left and went back into the same pose.

“I’ll get him.” Hank started towards the dog and Ziggy barked and then ran to the kitchen. Hank ended up chasing him around the butcher’s block several times before he was able to catch him, but keeping hold of him was difficult. “Stay still, Zig.”

Stella knelt down and quickly opened the camera on her phone.

“What’re you doing?” Hank asked.

“Taking a photo.”

“A selfie?”

“Do you have another suggestion?”

“I don’t know, I don’t do selfies. Unless they’re dick pics.”

“Yes, I am aware, but we won’t be sending your daughter a photo of your penis.”

“Well hurry up, this guy is a bitch to hold onto.”

“Smile, darling.” Both Stella and Hank smiled as she held down the photo button, but Ziggy wriggled and squirmed.

“Anything usable?” Hank asked, setting the dog free.

“A little blurry, but they should suffice.” Stella got up and texted the photos to Becca. “She says thank you, and for you to never fucking text her again.”

“Brat.”

“You started it.”

*****

The day passed. They took the dog to the park. He napped when they got back. Hank worked on his book. Stella worked on a report for her class. In the evening, they lit a fire in the new firepit on the roof and cuddled up on the daybed with the dog between them.

“Should we get a cat?” Hank asked.

“Do you want a cat?” Stella countered.

“Not really.”

“Me neither.”

“It is kind of nice having this little hairball around though. Not that I want him to stay. He’s also annoying as fuck. But, nice to have around. For an hour or two. When he’s asleep.”

“Kind of like you.”

“Hey!”

Stella laughed and Hank pushed her down onto the bed, rising to his knees to lean over and nuzzle her neck. It was a ticklish spot for her, especially when caressed lightly, and it made her laugh harder. Ziggy barked from where he was wedged beside Stella and under Hank. He wiggled out from under them and then jumped on Hank’s back with his front paws, barking and growling.

“Relax, man,” Hank said, rolling to one hip off of Stella.

“He’s being a good protector,” Stella said, laughing when Ziggy nipped at the blanket over their legs and tried to pull it away.

“He’s being a cockblocker.” Hank wrestled the blanket back from the dog and then grabbed him under the chin, giving him a few firm scratches. “You know what, Zig? You be a cockblocker. You be the best cockblocker you can be, at Becca’s place. Cockblock the shit out of Becca, okay?”

Ziggy barked and wagged his tail.

“Good boy,” Hank said. “Good little cockblocker.”

“Don’t say that to him,” Stella said.

“Why not?”

“One day you will need to face the fact that your daughter is a grown woman who deserves a healthy sex life.”

“Oh my god, I’m going to throw up.” Hank groaned and flopped down onto the bed with his arm over his eyes. “Consider me officially cockblocked.”

Stella moved up onto her hip this time and put her arm over Hank’s chest. She kissed his chin and then pulled his bottom lip between her teeth. He grabbed her around the waist and grunted softly into her mouth. Ziggy trampled the both of them and stuck his cold nose into Hank’s cheek.

“Gah!” Hank groaned.

The licked furiously at the both of them and Stella released Hank’s lip with a laugh and a scrunched face. She buried her head down into Hank’s neck while curling into his side and Ziggy tried to wedge his snout down to keep licking her face.

“We are officially never, ever, ever, ever getting a dog,” Hank said.

“No argument from me,” Stella answered, sliding away from the dog and Hank and stepping off the bed. “Meet me downstairs and I guarantee you won’t be cockblocked.”

“Oh?”

“Naked shower party for two in ten minutes.”

“The naked is redundant!” he called after her as she walked away. He waited until she had started down the stairs to take Ziggy’s face in his hands. “Listen. This is a cockblock free zone, you got that? Keep it up and you just may end up like Cat Stevens. We good?”

Ziggy gave a short, gruff bark and then lifted his paw. Hank nodded and they shook on it. He got up and let Ziggy explore the roof for a few minutes while he folded the blanket up and put out the fire. Not for long though. He had a naked party to get to and he didn’t want to be late.

The End

#i wrote this #hanella #humor #DOGS #hank moody #stella gibson

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r3almellow · 3 years

Text

Dealing With A Sick Kiro, Victor and Lucien

Hello there! Thank you for the request! I did Gavin and Shaw before so please refer to the links below for those two!

Gavin: Dealing With A Sick Bird Cop

Shaw: Dealing With A Sick Shaw

Warning: NO WARNINGS!

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Kiro

BIG BABY!

Knows he’s sick and wants you to take care of him.

He’ll be super dramatic and wants to get his way the whole time!

“Miss Chips, its so difficult to get out of bed. If only I had someone to carry me.” Obviously, he’s joking but he wouldn’t object if you actually tried to pick him up.

Wants you by his side always! You thought he was clingy before? You’re not prepared for his sick ass wanting to cling on to you like some damn koala.

If he doesn’t get his way, he’ll pout.

“You know what would make me feel better? Hawaiian pizza with stuffed crust, French fries, and strawberry soda an-.” Yeah, no. You’ll drink this soup and take your butt to bed, mister! Cue the cute pout.

The only time Kiro will try to hide that he’s sick is when he’s preparing for a show. Like he ends up getting sick the day before a performance.

He never wants to disappoint his fans.

Horrible liar when confronted about the possibility of being sick.

“Me? Sick? Of course not! My body is only hot whenever I’m with you. Wanna make it hott-? OW! Okay! Its only a cold!”

If its really bad he’ll give in to yours and Savin’s concerns and take a sick day.

Depending on the severity of his sickness Kiro likes to think of his sick days as his goof off days. Play video games, eating snacks, and tinkering with his computer.

You’ll have to monitor him to make sure he’s not overdoing it unless you want to face his manager’s wrath.

Hates medicine! Will be a pouty baby if you make him drink something disgusting.

Sick Kiro can also be a bit naughty, not as much as he usually is, but will try his luck. Will get even poutier if you deny his advances.

“I’ll get a reward if I drink this, right? What kind of reward will it be? If you can’t tell me what it is, then can you show me instead?”

As stated, how Kiro behaves depends on what the issue is. Kiro with a sore throat is different from Kiro with the flu.

One will be trying to stuff a large amount of Halls candy into his mouth with a cup of honey and lime with ginger tea and a game controller by his side while the other will be too weak to get out of bed.

Lives for your cuddles while he’s lying down. Will you get sick too? A high possibility. Does that stop him from smothering you with wet kisses? NOOOOPE.

Don’t worry though! Kiro is really good at returning the favor if and whenever you get sick.

Victor

This workaholic will acknowledge he’s sick but continues to work.

He’ll be in the office even if you express your concerns unless its something contagious. He wouldn’t want to infect his employees!

Will most likely go home for the day if he ends up almost doing something that jeopardizes his work, like uncontrollable sneezing during a meeting or passing out after taking medication.

Worst case scenario, Goldman “secretly” calls you to inform you that your stubborn baby should probably stay home for the day. Thus, causes you to show up at LFG to drag Victor home.

You will have to put your foot down to make sure Victor doesn’t do anything work related while he’s home.

Take away all electronic devices because he will find a way to check his emails!

Victor will complain a lot, but give him two minutes in his satin silk comforter and he’s out like a light.

He has a list of foods he likes to eat while he’s sick but since you both know your cooking skills are...questionable at times he will settle for soup.

Will have ingredients and a “How to make” memo ready and waiting for you just in case. Even if you don’t make it the way he’s used to Victor won’t complain too much.

Doesn’t care for medicine and prefers to just sleep off whatever he’s feeling, but will take what you give him.

When he complains about the taste just tease him a bit. What will that do? Put a smile on YOUR face as he looks at you in pure horror.

“Don’t like the taste? How about I slip this cherry flavored Benadryl into your soup next time.”

The disgusted on Victor’s face will have you dying from laughter.

“Never joke about something so inhumane ever again.”

Victor can sometimes be a bit fussy when he’s sick. Things will either be too hot, too cold, too bright or not bright enough. Its almost impossible to satisfy him when he’s like this.

He’ll go from “Just because you’ve decided to become my “nurse” doesn’t mean you can slack off. Go finish that report.” to “Where are you going? Come back here and stay with me.”

Once he’s back at full strength he’ll make you all the pudding you want as a thank you.

Lucien

The least likely to give you trouble while they’re sick.

However, is most likely to tease you until you forget that he’s sick, so you don’t worry over him too much.

You’ll figure him out earlier on and make it known that you will do whatever it takes to nurse him back to health.

If you’re that adamant, he won’t stop you from researching all sorts of remedies to help him.

He could easily just tell you what to do, but it was much more fun seeing your eyebrows furrow and your eyes glaring at the computer screen in annoyance.

The only time he’ll step in is when WebMD informs you that Lucien’s coughs could be a sign that he’s got some super rare disease that’s incurable.

You’ll look at him with watery eyes. “But...but, this website said that you-”

His chuckles will cut you off. “Silly, just put on some tea and sit by my side. This is more than enough to make me feel better.”

Is a pretty simple guy. Wants to relax with some tea and a good book.

Will sleep a lot and will probably have the best sleep of his life after you give him some Nyquil.

If he wakes up and finds you passed out in a chair by his side, he’ll pick you up and have you in bed with him.

He’ll have your body against his warm chest, enjoying your light snores as he too drifts back to sleep.

“Thank you...”

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Like my writing? Take a look at my other MLQC stuff in my masterpost!

#mr love #mr love queens choice #mlqc #mlqc kiro #mlqc victor #mlqc lucien #mr love kiro #mr love lucien #mr love victor #kiro #lucien #victor

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rons-wheezely · 3 years

Text

Honey Boy || Cedric

[requested!]

Genre: Fluff!!! Expect your teeth to rot :)

[muggle!reader] [cedric x reader]

Summary: Traditional muggle baking is a favorite past time of yours, although many students are prejudiced against it. A certain boy always liked your baking though, and that’s the only thing that matters. “I had a friend of mine teach me, but I doubt it’s as good as yours.” “It’s absolutely stunning.”

A/N: I’m combining the two requests because sweets + fluff = a recipe for a good Cedric fic lol also I’m so sorry that this fic took me forever!! Once I started writing, it never really stopped so it ended up being kind of long, I hope that is okay!

--x--

When you first came to the Wizarding Academy, it was like a dream come true. In the following weeks, however, it proved to be a little bit less than that. “What are you wearing?”

You stare blankly at a fellow student. “My robes, of course. Why?”

“No, I meant the things on your hands.”

“Oh,” you look at your hands. You’re wearing oven mitts, the ones your parents bought you to take to the academy. You often borrowed the Hogwarts kitchen after hours, so to see you like this is no surprise. Every once in awhile, however, some curious student or the other will waltz by and scrutinize you. “These are oven mitts. It’s a muggle thing.”

The students nods slowly, still trying to understand the reasoning behind it. After a while, the student leaves, mumbling to themselves about “why not use the wand?” but you didn’t pay any mind to it, most kids leave the same response anyways.

You finished up cleaning the countertop area, this time with your wand, reciting an incantation one of the many house elves taught you. They had their own magic, but since you were so keen on using the kitchen, it became a staple rule to clean up after yourself. It swirled around and swept up all of the mixing bowls into the air, letting them dance themselves all the way into the sink. The stainless steel sink bubbled with warm water and soap, busying itself with scrubbing each dish that comes its way.

You smiled happily to yourself. Someone cleared their throat behind you, and you froze. Everything stop mid-production, like a pause button. Paranoia ate away at you, wondering who it could be this time. Perhaps it was a professor, with a scowl on their face and yelling to the heavens. Or perhaps it was another student, a silent stare creeping on the back of your neck.

You turned around, scared out of your wits, only to be met with a disarming smile and yellow accented robes. “I thought you’d be here.” Cedric Diggory smiled at you, and the anxiety melted away with it.

“Really? How come?”

“Tori said just as much,” he walked closer, looking around the room in wonder. Slowly, you resumed the cleaning process, watching how his eyes lit up at the scenery. “I was going to ask if you wanted to study, but,” he chuckles,” it seems like I’ve come at a bad time?”

The oven beeped, catching the attention of the both of you. You rushed over frantically, throwing the oven mitts back over your fingertips. “Actually–”

You open an oven left somewhere in the far corner, letting the delicious scent of baked goodies fill the empty room. At once, Diggory was enraptured in consuming aroma that drifted by. “You came right on time,” you said as you gently take the tray out.

He eyes the tray curiously, watching you fan them to cool down quicker. You only wanted it to cool down faster so that he could have a bite, but just seeing you dramatically fan the goodies brought a smile on his face. “–I wouldn’t say right on time, it’s probably more like a few minutes early, but if you’d like I have–”

“Of course, y/n.” He looks at you,” I’d be more than happy to try them.”

It’s not until hours roll by and an empty tray of goodies gone did you realize how late it became. You sat upright and stiff, a shocking revelation dawning on you. “We never studied.”

“Oh y/n,” Cedric’s nose nose scrunched up as he tried desperately to hid his smile. He failed miserably, letting his lips curl up in delight. “It’s a bit late now, isn’t it?”

“It’s no use, I suppose...” You tapped on your chin as you thought of a solution. “Maybe we can study together tomorrow? The exam isn’t until Friday, right?”

“I’d like that.”

That night you lay awake, the comfy sheets tangled between your legs. You can’t sleep, and thoughts drifted in and out of your head restlessly. As far as you knew, Cedric was a pureblood. But he never judged you, not once, about anything muggle related. It’s kind of liberating; to feel so welcomed in Cedric’s presence.

Your body grew too warm for the bed, tossing and turning as you did so. Your cheeks were hot to the touch, embarrassment leaking out of your pores. It was only a fleeting thought, but then it lingered and then oh, how it wouldn’t go away. Cedric is kind hearted, so much so, that it had touched the very depths of your heart. The little inkling thought that made your breath catch in your throat was the fact that maybe, just a little bit, it would be nice to love a boy like him.

A couple of days later, you found a new recipe that reminded you of Cedric. You busied yourself in the kitchen, letting the joy of baking for another fill you to the brim. After a battle of wits against the mixing machine, there was finally a moment to pause. The sweet scent of chocolate muffins consumed you and left an itch to share the funny butterflies in your stomach. Fresh out of the oven, you wrap one of the muffins up. You neatly tuck the sweet treats into your bag and flurry down the hallway.

If you want him to try it at its peak performance, you need to deliver it while the muffins are still warm. The hallway doesn’t have many students, but you spot your friends, Fred and George.

“Hey Fred,” you smile, half out of breath. “–and George too.”

They smirk when they see you, already lining up a flurry of tricks to play. The Weasley on the left spoke up saying,”What’s the hurry?”

“Yeah, what’s the rush?” The twin on the right said.

“Would you happen to know where,” you pause. Breathing seemed to take its time coming to you. “..where Diggory might be?”

A unified “ooohhh,” sung out from their mouths. Regretfully, you could see it in their eyes that they knew. You liked the boy, didn’t you? With a whistle, George says,” Last I checked it was the Quidditch field.”

You murmur a small thanks and rush off towards the fields. Your footsteps thundered down the corridors, an aching feeling settling in your toes. Baking is one thing, but running across campus? No thanks. And the butterflies. There were so many of them fluttering around, sputtering things that warmed up your cheeks. You wonder how so many butterflies could fit into one stomach, but you digress.

When you reach the fields, Cedric was coming out of one of the tents. Your eyes meet, and his smile practically sweeps you off of the ground. “Hey,” he says as he walks up to you.

Cedric pat his face with a towel, a sheen of shiny sweat rubbing away with the soft fabric.

Immediately you can feel the heat rush from your body to your face. The comfort of his presence juxtaposing your uncomfortable stance was very foreign, but it helped to ease your nerves. “I... I made you some muffins. It’s good luck for the upcoming game, you see.”

His eyes widen just a bit, watching as you frantically pull out the muffin from your satchel. You reach out to hand it to him. Thankfully, it’s still fresh and warm, and the tingling feeling is hot on your fingertips. A gentle,”Thank you,” reaches you ears as he softly takes the baked item into his palms.

You see a teammate call out to him. You want to talk to him more, having only spoken about two sentences, but to your dismay, the better part of you knew better than to keep him to yourself. He turns back to you, the same look on his face.

“I know I’ll love it y/n, don’t worry. I’ll tell you how it tastes later, yeah?”

You nod and watch as he jogs off, hurrying to grab his broomstick. The next week flew in quickly, and the flurry of wizarding homework drowned out all of your free time. As silly as it was, you didn’t have any time to bake now that exams are around the corner.

Light leaks in from the castle window, pouring in to fill the room. Dust basks in the warm sunlight, the particles bothersome to your occasional sneezes. Why does the Hogwarts’ library have to be simultaneously the best and worst place to study?

Hours tick by, and the fatigue is starting to kick in. You’ve been staring at your textbooks for hours. “Ah,” a voice chimes in. “There you are.”

Your droopy eyes immediately shoot open, and you look up to see Cedric. “Oh! Hey, Diggory.” A smile creeps on to your face, unable to hide the relief and joy you found in his presence. “What are you doing here? I thought you were studying with Cho this afternoon?”

He looks down at the ground while his robes silently swayed with his movements. He’s grown awfully quiet, so you thought there was something on the ground. You glance at where he is looking, but there’s nothing to be found. “Cedric?”

Your words snap him back to reality. Red starts to flood his cheeks, and his eyes widen at the sudden jolt. “Ah–– s...sorry!” He stutters. He sounds nervous, but the way he carries himself and moves so fluidly, it looks effortless. His fingers have a mind of their own as they kindly closed the heavy textbook and find a way to your hand. “Come with me, will you?”

And of course, how could you say no to that?

He leads you somewhere quiet. It’s one of those outdoor hallways, but the scene is empty with nothing but stone and the sunset sky. Your heart beats a little faster when he stops. His figure stands tall, but it takes him a minute to look you in the eyes. Warily, he pulls out container.

“I’m not the best at baking, I know,” he chuckles,” but I wanted you to know how much I appreciate the things you’ve done for me.”

He holds out the package, and when you open it there is a miniature cake inside. Despite the concept of a mini cake being delicate, wonky handwriting is scrawled and piped on top. It’s barely legible, so you squint.

“It’s supposed to be honey cake, but uh... don’t be surprised if it doesn’t taste quite right.” He says. “I had a friend of mine teach me, but I doubt it’s as good as yours.”

You two stand there in awkward silence until finally, you understand the words on the cake. “i like you” is what it says. Suddenly not only did the butterflies come back, frogs were also caught in your throat. The boy you liked.... likes you back?

“You... you like me?” The statement that leaves your mouth comes out as more of a question, the shock and confusion stunning your senses.

He nods. “Do you... like the cake?”

“It’s absolutely stunning,” you breathe out. Of course you would like it, Cedric Diggory made it for you.

He hands you a fork and motions you to sit on the stone ledge. You do so numbly, eager to taste. You take a bite and let fluffy texture fill your heart and soul. “Cedric, it’s delicious! I love everything about it.”

You glance at him, and maybe it’s just you, but his face is a breath away from yours. Warmth radiates between you two before he breaks the silence.

“..Can I kiss you?”

It was sweet like honey –– sweet like him.

--x--

A/N: oh boy that was a long one...... Definitely inspired by some honey cake I had lol

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blushingbaka · 4 years

Note

Ok this scenario came into my mind just a min ago. Soo it’s Like the reader got sick like flu or stg so she went to her friends place without telling sakusa, to get well since she knows He hates anything germ related. Then He comes Home He can’t find her blah blah I leave the rest to you like would He appreciate it or would He go to where she is and Take her back to home etc

with a sick s/o

pairing: sakusa x reader genre: fluff length: 830

✰ a/n: tysm anon for being my first request !! i honestly loved this idea and maybe got a bit tooooo soft with it ahaha. i think sakusa would definitely come and take you home tho bc he doesn’t trust anyone else to properly care for you lolol so that’s kind of where i picked it up! hope you enjoy it <3

“I guess another symptom of the flu is bad decision making” Sakusa mumbles coolly, not taking his eyes off the road. Even though a frown probably lays beneath the mask he’s wearing, you don’t need to see it to know he’s agitated. His knitted brows and whitened knuckles are clear enough indicators. Not having the desire nor energy to defend yourself, you simply let your head fall against the window relishing in the relief the cool surface gives your burning forehead.

“And I can’t understand why you’d rely on that friend to take care of you when you’re sick,” he murmurs expressing a hint of genuine confusion despite the clear judgment in his tone. “Every time you’ve taken me there they have dirty dishes in their sink.”

“I can take care of myself. I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable” you mumble weakly. Maybe you were in the wrong by not telling him your whereabouts and letting him come home to an empty apartment, but it seemed like such an easy decision when you woke up this morning, your whole body aching and feeling unbearably hot. After deducing you had the flu, you figured the same man that looked personally offended when you sneezed in front of him wouldn’t want to be around you in your current condition.

“If you could take care of yourself, we wouldn’t be in this situation” he bluntly pointed out to you, but his voice was softer, missing its previous edge.

“I had my flu shot, so just quit nagging already” you whined, turning your knees towards the car door and closing your eyes in hopes it would end the mostly one-sided conversation. Sakusa let out another soft sigh, but he didn’t say another word. Now that he wasn’t lecturing you anymore, you were able to fully appreciate the comfort that being by his side brought you. Even though you wanted to put Sakusa’s comfort above your own, a selfish part of you was glad that he was so persistent in calling you and figuring out where you were. When he discovered you were sick and immediately said, “I’m coming to get you," you couldn't help but feel a hint of elation.

You figured once you were back to your apartment, you would get settled on the couch and Sakusa would check in on you sporadically, but you were shocked when he insisted you take the bed. It amazed you see Sakusa almost playing the role of a doting boyfriend by bringing you a cool rag and insisting that you eat soup and keep hydrated. Of course, he did all of these things with his mask on and with a very reluctant attitude. The way he exaggerated his sighs and rolled his eyes was distinctly Kiyoomi, but his actions were comforting nonetheless.

“You’re really going to sleep on the couch?” You gently prodded with a small pout forming on your face.

“Y/N you’re contagious, and I have a game next week. I think it would be ridiculous for even me to wear a mask to bed.” He lightly jokes. That same selfish part of you wants to push further, but you already feel guilty enough that you’ve could have gotten him sick last night. You’re about to tell him it’s fine, but before you’re able to get the words out he sits down on the floor beside the bed, resting his head on the nightstand.

“I suppose I can wait here until you fall asleep” he heaves a great sigh, and your heart squeezes leaving you unsure what to say.

“Why are you being so nice?” you weakly chuckle unable to voice your true thoughts. His eyebrows furrow like you just asked him an impossible question, and instead of replying right away, he places a hand on the top of your head, using his thumb to gently rub your forehead.

“What am I supposed to do, huh?” his deep voice comes out even and soft, and his gentle touch coaxes you to sleep, but you persistently hang onto his words.

“You think when our kids get sick I’m just going to check into a hotel somewhere?” he says the words so calmly and confidently that you’re almost sure you heard him wrong. Sakusa has never expressed interest in kids, so for a moment, you think this is some product of a fever dream.

“Omi-“ you interrupt yourself as a cough rattles your body, and you make a point to turn away from Sakusa. You never get to finish that sentence, however, because Sakusa shuts you down, insisting that you need your rest. Despite your efforts to keep your eyes open and stare at this new side of Kiyoomi you've discovered, your eyelids become too heavy to resist the lull of sleep. It could be a figment of your imagination, but you swear you hear him say one more thing.

“Honestly idiot, when are you going to realize you’re always the exception?”

#sakusa x reader #sakusa fluff #haikyuu x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #haikyuu reader insert #sakusa scenario

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skyriderwednesday · 3 years

Text

Related to my post about Sam's nose/sense of smell and regarding having his nose fixed:

It has been six days since the swelling went down and, from Sam Vimes's perspective, six days since he developed a sense of smell. He hates it. It's overwhelming.

Being able to breathe in with his mouth shut should be worth it, but it isn't useful yet. It won't be until his memory catches up to the fact he now can.

His nose is closer now to what's supposed to be its proper shape, which makes his face look a bit less weird, but at the same time more weird. The bridge of his nose is actually in the middle of his face. He's not sure symmetry suits him.

There are positives. He can breathe while eating, food tastes of more. He knows what coffee tastes like now and he's reconsidering exactly how much sugar he usually puts into it. He understands now why pepper makes people sneeze.

He doesn't have to turn his head so much to kiss Sybil, and they can kiss for a lot longer now. Sure she keeps touching his face, but she does call him handsome whenever she does it. It's not true, and he still doesn't like compliments, but Sybil makes him feel fuzzy with her smile and he can never help himself from smiling at her back.

If only he didn't keep smelling things by accident.

He could smell the dragons already, the sour burnt odour that caused his sinuses to barricade themselves, but now he can distinguish exactly what makes up that smell. He was almost sick the first time he walked into the pens on Monday evening, and that was not long after they had been cleaned. It's going to take him a long time to go as blind to the smell as he had.

He could also have done without having his nose fixed in the summer. He could always smell the river when it was really hot and the wind wasn't blowing, but the air stinks of it even when the weather is mild. Cloud cover makes it worse, and humidity... gods, not even the rain manages to wash the stench away. Sam always wondered why he'd occasionally see people wearing cloth masks over their faces in the summer, now he thinks he might join them. The smell makes his eyes burn if he's out in it too long.

He's almost glad that he'd already experienced the river and the dragons however, otherwise Nobby might actually have made him sick. There are too many smells there, he doesn't want to know what most of them are. Some of them are masked by cigarette smoke, which isn't really an improvement.

His office smells too heavily of cigar smoke, which he didn't realise was all that different from cigarettes. It also smells like damp paper which... yeah, Sam doesn't like that smell. It reminds him of something, when he was very small and... the memory is too blurry to make out, but he knows he doesn't want to remember it.

Carrot smells like armour polish. Cheery smells like flowery perfume and faintly of burnt hair. Angua smells less like dog than he would have expected her to and more like something he can't pin down. Reg doesn't actually smell that bad, just sort of dry and weird. Fred smells like... uh... Fred? Sam's fairly sure that's closer to what your average bloke is supposed to smell like, but he realises he doesn't know many average blokes.

Igor, who smells of disinfectant most of the time, keeps taking notes. Lots of notes. It's like Sam is the subject of his newest experiment. Which he wouldn't mind really, if Igor would stop trying to make him smell things, and if there were fewer iconographs of the faces he pulls in reaction to things.

Why the hell does Vetinari smell like ginger? And... mint? Sam had to go through the kitchen for reference for those. It's weird, those scents are too much on him. Sam hadn't expected him to smell like anything honestly, and if he really thinks about it, the mint might have something to do with aftershave (which reminds him, it turns out he really hates his) but ginger? That will take some figuring out.

He'll get used to it, Sybil says. She, by the way, smells warm, a bit like dragons but in a way he likes, and her perfume is much subtler than Cheery's. It's lemony, and a bit like grapes. It's probably very sophisticated, but he has to be right up against her to smell it.

He's sure she's right, everyone else smells things all the time, but he hasn't been able to smell much of anything since he was thirteen, and getting it all back at once... well he could have done with a bit more warning. Waking up being able to smell things gives him a headache and if that carries on, he's not sure he's going to be able to cope with it all.

His ears are ringing when he wakes up. He can taste old blood on the back of his tongue and his entire face hurts like hell. His jaw aches and his nose is throbbing. What exactly it was that hit him in the face, Sam doesn't know, but it knocked him out cold, and – he can already tell – broke his nose for the tenth (or is that eleventh?) time in his life. He can feel the bandages, he thinks there's something splinting one side of his nose. At least he seems to still have most of his teeth.

By the time the bruising has cleared up and his nose has mostly healed, Sam's sense of smell is once again dulled. His breathing isn't too bad, but he again has to try if he wants to smell subtle things, and the strongest smells have had the worst taken out of them. His nose is crooked again, but it gives him back 'some of his old character' according to Sybil.

Two months? Was that all it lasted? Oh well. That's life for you.

He won't have it fixed again. He'd probably only get his nose broken again even sooner if he did.

#discworld #sam vimes #discworld headcanon

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officialscaramouche · 3 years

Text

Companions

pairing: Chongyun x Xingqiu

summary: Chongyun finally takes on the demon, but how is Xingqiu going back home?

warnings: none

word count: 2,133

also posted on ao3!

notes: Wow! Thank you to those of you that read this from the very beginning! There are a LOT of themes that finalized in the last few chapters (such as character development, thoughts that changed, etc.) and I hope yall can find them all! The story isn't over yet, though! I've started writing two pieces that relate to this story and which ever gets the most votes will get posted!

There's an epilogue where older Chongyun meets with Xingqiu in Qingce and there's also a full translation of Xingqiu's book! Comment which one you want to read next!

Also, I started another future fic where this time, Chongyun meets older Xingqiu! Keep an eye out for it!

Ch. 5 of 5 < prev |

“What do you think clouds feel like?”

Xingqiu looked up at the large fluffy cloud that passed through the sun. He smiled, twiddling his thumbs on his tummy. “Like pillows?”

“Or marshmallows. But wet. Wet marshmallows.”

Xingqiu covered his laugh with a fist, sitting up on his elbows to look at the young boy next to him. Chongyun had snuck out of meditation practice and picked up Xingqiu through his bedroom window. Now, they found themselves a nice hiding spot under a tree by the river next to Yujin Terrace. “Chongyun, I had the weirdest dream just now.”

“You were sleeping?”

“I guess. You were older, much older. And I was older, but I was in the dream the way I am now. Seventeen.”

“What kinda things did we do? Were we hanging out?”

“We went on a crazy adventure! And you were so cold to me!”

Chongyun jumped up and dug claws into Xingqiu’s sides. “It’s the cryo in me! Mwahahaha!”

Xingqiu involuntarily laughed, the tickle bursting out of him. He kicked and kicked, trying to push the other off but Chongyun, having trained in battle more than him, was stronger. “Get-- haha! Get off of me!”

Chongyun pinned the scholar by the wrists and hovered over him. “Make me.”

Xingqiu blushed and rolled his eyes, a playful smirk on his lips. “Ew, are you flirting with me?”

Chongyun flushed red and flew off of the boy, sitting straight with his hands shoved into his lap, his eyes looking out at the distance. “No. Why would I be?”

Xingqiu sat up with his mouth hanging open, a little irritated that he got off of him. “Are you dense!”

“I thought you wanted me to get off!”

“Well, yeah! But--”

“But what! You liked it, or what?!”

“W-Well, yeah!!”

Chongyun raised his eyebrows and faced Xingqiu who stared at him with a flushed face. The look in his eyes was daring, but scared. Afraid that Chongyun was going to deny him right there. But after having such a wild dream, he couldn’t pass up the opportunity the way he had before. “What are you saying…?”

Xingqiu shut his eyes tightly and balled his fists into his lap. “I’m saying...I’m saying I like yo--”

Xingqiu gasped, his heart jumping out of his chest. The moon was still in the sky but was ready to set in the next few hours. He gripped the fabric over his heart and panted, sweat rolling down his temple. He wiped his forehead with his sleeve and looked around for Chongyun but he was nowhere to be found.

He sat up and peered over the shrubs to look at the incense and food, but found Chongyun sitting there with a large brown figure. He rubbed his eyes, blurry from sleep, and watched as the exorcist rubbed at the skin of the figure there. He scrambled to his feet, squirming through the shrubs and tentatively walked over, playing with his fingers nervously. The closer he got, the clearer the figure became. It’s ugly, horrifying face contorted in its sleep. Chongyun swiped his hand through the bowl from early, scooping a paste from within, and rubbed it on the demon’s arm. “W-What...is this the...the d-demon?”

Chongyun placed a dirty finger to his lips and shushed the boy, waving him over. He extended a hand. “The drawing, please,” he whispered, continuing to rub the demon as it slept.

“It’s sleeping…so peacefully.”

“Like you were,” Chongyun chuckled. “Now, please. The drawing.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m tending to its wounds. It's in so much pain.”

Xingqiu looked at the leaf where the skewers were and at the ash the incense burned off. Their plan had worked. But looking at the demon up close, it didn’t feel like a demon at all. He didn’t feel any evil sense emanating off of it. “Are you gonna try the thing?”

“Yes. Drinking it should be fine. I only freeze them to help keep me cool, but the night is chilly enough.”

Xingqiu filled the bowl with water and Chongyun crushed up the flower into the bowl. He mixed it with his finger before placing the bowl to his lips and gulping down the drink. With a refreshing “ahhh,” Chongyun wiped his hands on his pants and unfolded the drawing. He placed the paper between his forefinger and his middle finger, bringing his hands together. Xingqiu watched as the paper began to twitch, unfurling until it was perfectly straight. The ink of the drawing flickered a bright blue for a moment, but the paper began to fall again. Chongyun furrowed his brows in frustration, concerned that the drink didn’t work. If he can’t get this talisman to work, then all of this would have been for nothing. Xingqiu bit his lip and watched as the demon rolled over, grunting in its sleep. He bounced nervously, the meditation not working.

“Ah, ah, Chongyun hurry up!” Xingqiu eyed the paper and the demon as it continued to toss and turn. “I-It’ll wake up!”

Chongyun pressed his palms together firmer, clenching his teeth uncomfortably as he focused on channeling his energy into the paper. He began to sweat, his yin energy being stirred too much. His arms began to tremble as he loses control of the flow of energy, but Xingqiu presses himself into Chongyun’s back and gathers cool water at either of Chongyun’s ears. The sound of the sloshing and the coolness of the water steadied his mind. Through the muddle of the water, he could hear Xingqiu’s soothing voice. “Please come back when you’ve finished your journey, okay? I have something I want to tell you.”

Xingqiu shut his eyes and muttered quiet please’s under his breath, hoping that Chongyun can muster the strength with his help. The paper fluttered loudly, with the help of no wind. A bright light illuminated behind Xingqiu’s eyelids and he opened to find the ink shining a luminous blue. It floated up, hovering over Chongyun’s aura. The exorcist’s hair stood on ends, and his skin was hot to the touch. Chongyun stood, and Xingqiu pulled away. The demon gasped, startled awake and groaned in fear. But Chongyun formed a hexagonal bagua floor beneath their feet and adjusted it’s rotation to place the demon atop the earth trigram. Now seemingly incapable of moving, Chongyun threw the guidance talisman with two fingers, sending it flying towards the demon. It latched itself to the demon’s forehead and it fell backwards, laying motionless while the talisman worked its magic.

After a few moments, the demon began to dissipate with a hiss, the talisman burning into its skull. Chongyun stood with his arms folded over each other to hold the floor until it completely left for the afterlife. He fell to his knees, catchim himself with a hand, the other clutching his chest. Xingqiu jumped up and down in excitement. “Holy crap! That was so cool! Was that the baguazhang energy map?! I’d seen you play with a small one, but that was huge!!”

Chongyun coughed, his chest heaving.

“The lines were steaming with yin energy!! The yin and yang symbol was moving! Oh goodness, you’re pale! Water! Here drink water!!”

Xingqiu pushed in the drawer and picked up the rag on the counter. He wiped it down once more before tossing it over his shoulder and picking up a box. He trudged up the stairs, box in hand, and turned the corner to the left. He walked down the hall and pushed the door open with his hip, dropping the box to the side. “Where did you want these?”

Chongyun snapped the blanket, dust poofing off and into the air. “Shit!” Chongyun covered his nose with the inside of his elbow and sneezed. “What is it? Are those the old rugs?”

Xingqiu nodded and sneezed, walking over to the window and forced it open. “I haven’t gotten the ones upstairs, though. These are all the downstairs rugs.”

Chongyun picked up the box and walked out of the room. “I’ll put them in the storage closet for now. I gotta wash them later.” Peeking back into the room, Chongyun watched Xingqiu shut the box in front of him.

It was the morning after the exorcise and Chongyun and Xingqiu were cleaning up the estate. Xingqiu worked on the downstairs, dusting and washing and throwing while Chongyun worked on the upstairs. When they got there, they took a nap at the front door, the exorcist collapsing from exhaustion. He had never used that much energy before, but if Xingqiu hadn’t given him the idea of using qingxin flowers to overflow with energy, the demon would’ve gotten away.

“What are you gonna do if you’re stuck here?” Chongyun asked, filling a newly washed glass with water from the tap.

“I’d say I’d stick around with you, but you already have me I guess. I could refound the Guhua Clan, maybe?”

Chongyun laughed into his cup. “There’s nobody to tell you no anymore,” he joked, putting the cup in the sink. “That diary tell you anything?”

Xingqiu put his hands on his hips. “No, I still can’t read a lot of it. We’d have to decode it.”

Chongyun patted the boy’s shoulder and jutted a thumb to the backyard. “Let’s work on the backyard. Afterwards we can take a look at it, hm?”

Xingqiu dusted his hands and set off for the back. This was going to be his first time in their meditation circle, it was pretty exciting. Without any training needing to be done or strict parents to tell him no, Xingqiu would be able to actually stand on the stone bagua floor. “You said once that your backyard is the strongest spiritual point in Teyvat right?”

Chongyun grabbed the screen door and slid it open, letting Xingqiu go first. “Yeah, it’s why my ancestors took residence here. I think this is where the original ley line was. When I first stepped foot in here, it made me dizzy so be careful.”

Xingqiu flicked his hair back and let out a sarcastic laugh. “Ha! I’m stronger than I look, Chongyun. Don’t be fooled.” Xingqiu looked at all the dead leaves and stagnant puddles that ruined the aesthetic of the place. “Maybe we should start with the leaves, huh?”

Xingiu felt dizzy, just like Chongyun said he would. He reached back to hold onto the exorcist, but Chongyun was not there. He staggered back at the lack of support, and found himself face to face with a door. The same red door of their secret hangout spot. He flung himself around and smelled the familiar scent of delicious food, the constant murmuring of chatter, and the birds tweeting above. He looked at his clothing, freshly washed and repaired. The book missing.

“What are you doing?” Chongyun asked.

The privilege to be bored was something I took for granted. I had realized that I had done not a single thing, not been helpful with the exception for entertainment. Which, in hindsight, I believe is what kept us together for so long. I am intolerable and quite loathsome, but my dearest sees through me and the facade and brings me along anyhow. Quiet moments like these will forever warm my heart in memories. We are not sharing a single activity, yet we are bonded by the coexistence. The rays of the sun stunk like poorly washed laundry and our hair clumped together from the bodily oils but it is fun to reminisce and I enjoy being sullied every now and then. I awoke to its presence, horrifying and ugly. But...what a strange man, indeed, that can place a hand atop the you hun ye gui that has tormented his very existence. ‘It sleeps,’ I whisper. I creep forward, trembling down to my toes. ‘Peacefully,’ he says. ‘Like you.’

Like me? He teases me. If I could meditate instead of sleep, I would. The way he shows kindness to such a foul beast makes me swoon. That’s why he puts up with me.

We all have our own inner demons. Only we can conquer them. It helps to have friends to support you, but in turn, you must support them. I was a lost mind, chasing after lofty dreams that I am designed to not overcome, but I can still live them in writing. When I write, or when I read, I am taken elsewhere. I am no longer a hermit, disowned by my own family, but I am a knight. I am a samurai. I am an adventurer. And sometimes, the antagonist is a dragon, a ronin, or a hilichurl. But sometimes, the antagonist is yourself. And only you, the hero, can conquer the villain. But it doesn’t hurt to have a companion along the way.

-- Xingqiu

#companions #xingyun #chongxiu #genshin #genshin impact #chongyun #xingqiu

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junetuesday · 4 years

Text

sweetener - [sixteen]

Trial and Error

Pairing: Tom Holland x Female Reader - uni AU

Word Count: ~7K

Warnings: smut, smut gone kinda wrong, alcohol/hangover mentions

A/N: some of the ~positions in this chapter kind of imply that the reader is of a similar height to tom so sorry if that bothers you! other than that pls enjoy as we all try to recover from that instagram story, hope everyone is staying safe and staying home as much as they’re able to ❣

Updates: dunno sorry i thought i had a schedule there for a minute but i lost it

Tom was very tired. So very, very tired.

Perhaps it had been a bad idea to go out last night, seeing as he was already knackered from work and lectures and training, but he and Harrison had gotten home from training and Adam said ‘we out tonight?’ and what was he supposed to say? No? To £1.50 pints? Of course not. So, now, here he was on Tuesday afternoon, not even that hungover but just tired, trying not to fall asleep in a lecture.

Apart from the fact that he’d nearly whacked his chin on the desk three times in the last ten minutes, though, his head drooping as he nodded off, he was pretty happy. He’d had a whole weekend with just you, which was nice, no interruptions or awkward interactions with housemates on the stairs, and you were now Officially Together, which was even nicer. He’d been a bit surprised when you’d brought it up on Friday night - but not in a bad way, he just hadn’t really thought about it. He wondered afterwards what he would have said if someone had asked him if you were his girlfriend, like Ruby had asked you. Yes? Probably? Maybe? No one had asked so it had never really occurred to him to put a label on your relationship, but when he thought about after he decided that if pressed he probably would have said yes.

In any case that was all cleared up now, “Facebook Official” and everything - he’d even told his mum. Well, that might be stretching the truth a little - he’d been on FaceTime to her on Sunday night and his brother Harry had come into the room and said ‘hey Tom how’s your girlfriend?’. It had been kind of hard to gauge his tone because he was shoving crisps into his mouth as he spoke, but it sounded snarky and Tom was fairly sure he had no interesting in actually hearing how you were and just wanted to tease him for having a girlfriend while simultaneously dropping him in it with their mum. Tom’s suspicions were confirmed when she looked directly into the camera with a high pitched ‘what? Who!’ and Harry promptly left the room, leaving Tom to murmur ‘um, well, uh…’ while he tried to think how best to explain your relationship. It wasn’t that he’d been actively hiding you from his family, he’d mentioned you in passing a few times to his brothers,but it just hadn’t really come up. Maybe he should have mentioned it before putting it on Facebook, but what was he supposed to do, just message the family chat like hey btw i have a girlfriend now? In the end he just said you were a friend of his housemate’s and that you’d met a couple of months ago, electing to skip over the part about how he already knew of you from work beforehand because that was quite embarrassing and not really something he wanted to share with his mother, and then he changed the subject and asked to see Tessa before making an excuse to hang up.

Familial video calls aside though, he’d had a nice weekend, and though it was only Tuesday he was already looking forward to the next one. Not just because he was tired and wanted a lie in, but this Friday was Valentine’s Day. He’d never really been bothered about it so he hadn’t even realised it was coming up, but once he did Tom wondered if your “talk” would have happened this week anyway, regardless of the Liv/Harrison situation, and not even because of the actual holiday itself, but because of the night out. Valentine’s Day at the SU had a traffic light system - wear red if you’re taken, green if you’re single, and yellow if...well, Tom wasn’t really sure what yellow was for. Maybe? Proceed with caution? Anyway, you probably would have ended up having the conversation about your relationship status before the party, because it would have been extremely awkward if you’d turned up in different colours. Now, however, you both knew you’d both be wearing red, so that was good to know - that is, if you ended up going out. You hadn’t talked about your plans yet, whether you’d go out like on a proper date, or stay in, or go out with everyone else. Tom didn’t really mind what you did, as long as he got to see you at some point, so he figured he’d speak to you about it later and see what you wanted to do.

For now though, he really needed to concentrate on this lecture. He was trying, he really was, only it was really quite boring and his eyelids were really heavy suddenly, and the lecturer’s voice sounded really far away…

aaaCHOO!

Tom’s head snapped up at the sound of the person next to him sneezing, his body jerking as he was startled back into consciousness. This was hopeless, there was no way he was going to be able to stay awake for the rest of the lecture if he didn’t do something to distract himself. The lecture content itself was clearly not interesting enough to keep him alert and awake, so he decided to see what you were up to instead, and you replied after a minute or two.

nm just back from lectures, watching a movie with liv and mads x

Oh cool what movie x

Even without knowing what movie you were watching, Tom was certain that he’d much prefer to be on your sofa watching TV, instead of sitting in this uncomfortable chair in a cold lecture hall. That was basically all you’d done all weekend, though obviously without your housemates - which was for the best, because it would have been really awkward if they’d been sitting there when the episode of Friends where they get a free adult TV channel came on and you’d asked him if he watched porn and he’d nearly choked on his tea. He’d just said ‘sometimes’ and then asked if you did before taking a big sip of his tea to try and look nonchalant (which was a mistake because it was still too hot but he wasn’t going to choke again on the same drink so he just let it burn his mouth and throat and nodded casually when you also said ‘sometimes’).

Bend it like Beckham lmao x

Arent you in a lecture rn x

Ahh a classic. Yeh i am but

Tom paused, considering how to finish that sentence. But now I’ve just remembered you talking to me about porn and it’s distracting ?? Hmm, no, probably not like that.

its really boring and im tired so i keep falling asleep 😴x

Okay, better, now stop thinking about it. He wasn’t even really sure what “it” was, just the general idea of you and porn, and porn-related activities, and things he shouldn’t be thinking about in a lecture.

Early night for you tonight x

Oh dear. That didn’t help, because now he was thinking that you were right, he probably would be in bed quite early - but would he be sleeping? Probably not, and he did not need to be thinking about what he’d be doing instead right now.

Tom checked the clock on the wall, pretending to be reading the lecture slides on the screen below it. Only twenty minutes left…

Want me to pick you up on the way home and we can go straight to bed? x

He debated putting a 😏 on the end, or maybe even a 😉, but ultimately decided against it before hitting send. You were supposed to be coming over to his later that evening anyway, but now he couldn’t really think of a reason to wait any longer than was absolutely necessary. Plus this way maybe you would actually get an early night, which wouldn’t be a bad idea considering he had to play rugby the next day.

Sounds like a plan. When do you finish x

20 mins x

He hoped you were on the same wavelength and understood that he didn’t actually plan to go to sleep at 4:30 in the afternoon (though he could use a nap, but he could do that after). He’d find out in half an hour or so, he supposed, he just had to stay awake until then.

It turned out to be a lot easier to stay awake once he had something else to think about besides what his lecturer was talking about, so soon enough Tom was texting you to say he was on his way, and then again to say he was parked on your street. He debated going to the door, but he decided that it was probably best if he didn’t just in case Liv saw him and wanted to hurt him just for being friends with Harrison.

“Hey!”

Your voice as you opened the passenger side door made Tom look up from his phone, slightly startled as he was waiting for you to text back and wasn’t expecting you to just appear out of nowhere.

“Oh- hey,” he reached over to grab his bag from the passenger seat so you could get in, tossing it into the backseat as you shoved your own bag into the footwell.

You smiled once he turned back to face you, reaching across the car to touch his cheek as he leaned over to give you a kiss hello.

“You look nice,” Tom said when you pulled back, settling back into your seat and putting on your seatbelt.

“Oh,” you looked down at your outfit, then over at Tom. “Thanks.”

It wasn’t a particularly exciting outfit, just jeans and a slouchy knitted jumper, but it was cute - or maybe that was just you, it was hard to tell. In any case it was time for Tom to stop admiring you and start driving, the drive between your houses passing quickly as you talked about your day so far.

“Oh crap,” Tom muttered under his breath as you walked up to the front door. His curtains were still closed, and he remembered then that his room was a complete mess.

You weren’t meant to be coming over until later on, so when he’d woken up late he’d just jumped in the shower in the hopes it would relieve his hangover, shoved on the cleanest clothes he could find, and ran out the door. So, instead of stepping back to let you in once he unlocked the front door, he went in ahead of you and went straight to his room to assess the damage. Besides the closed curtains, unmade bed, and wardrobe doors flung open, his open gym bag and workout clothes were on the floor, the towel he’d used after his speedy shower before heading out on top of them. In his semi-conscious state this morning he hadn’t been able to find said towel, so the one he’d used this morning was draped over the back of his desk chair. He was wearing the jeans he’d worn out last night, so at least they weren’t on the floor, but the shirt he’d worn was, as well as the pyjama bottoms he’d slept in, complete with boxers inside them, sitting very visibly right in the middle of the room. A couple of cider cans and the tub from the Pot Noodle he’d had for dinner littered his desk, and the bag he’d brought to yours on the weekend was open at the end of his bed, its contents spilling onto the floor. Fantastic.

“Sorry,” he mumbled as he quickly gathered all his clothes up into a pile and shoved them into the wardrobe. “D’you want a drink or anything?”

“Nah, I’m good,” you shook your head as you took off your jacket, setting it and your bag down by the door as it swung shut behind you.

“Okay, uh…” Tom trailed off, trying to fit his bags into the wardrobe and get the doors closed before everything started tumbling out. “Wanna put something on TV?”

“Umm… I dunno, is anyone home?”

“I don’t think so?”

Operation Wardrobe was mostly successful, in that the doors didn’t completely shut but nothing was falling out, so Tom considered that a win and moved on to straightening his duvet.

“Eh,” you laughed with a shrug. “Why bother then, we’re not going to watch it are we?”

“...yeah, fair enough.”

Deciding that his bed would do as it was and the curtains should probably remain closed, Tom moved towards you, his hands finding your waist as you pulled him closer by the collar of his jacket until your lips connected in a hurried kiss.

Guess you were on the same wavelength.

“I thought you were tired,” you smirked against his lips as he guided you across the room until your back was against the wall, his body pressed to yours.

“Well,” he sighed as he wiggled out of his jacket, your hands pushing it off his shoulders and down his arms. “I was, but I’ll persevere.”

Tom reached for the hem of your jumper as your lips reconnected, his fingers brushing over your waist as he pushed it up.

“Oh right, okay,” you giggled when you separated again for him to pull your jumper off over your head. “Well done, must be hard for you.”

Well, something was hard, if not the act of staying awake. What was vexing him at present, though, was how many layers you were wearing. Your coat and jumper were gone, but you still had a vest top on, tucked into your jeans - and was that a belt? A belt?! You had boots on too, plus whatever underwear you had on - what a nightmare - well not a nightmare, obviously your underwear wasn’t a nightmare, but--

Tom’s thoughts were cut off by you grabbing his face and kissing him again, and that was enough to get him to just get on with it. Your hands shifted from his cheeks to his shoulders and down his chest as he pulled your vest free. His tongue eagerly exploring your mouth, he kissed you more firmly before he stepped away to pull his hoodie and t-shirt off over his head. You followed suit, taking your vest off and dropping it on top of your jumper, then bending down to take off your boots while Tom kicked off his trainers.

His hands on your waist guided you towards the bed once you straightened up, one darting out to stop himself falling on top of you as you landed on your back on top of his crumpled sheets. Kissing as you went, you shuffled up to the top of the bed, you on your back and Tom beside you, leaning over you. Your legs tangled together, your fingers brushed through the back of his hair as he kissed down your neck and onto your chest, his lips following the line of your bra strap. Things started getting more complicated when he passed your collarbones though, and he realised that this was not your standard bra.

A pretty teal colour, your bra had complicated looking straps going across the tops of your breasts, just above the cups. The band was deeper than normal too, a sort of mesh lace covering your ribs almost down to your waist. After briefly pausing to consider whether to follow the cup or the strap (he chose the strap) Tom continued his line of kisses onto the centre of your chest, sucking and nipping at the skin in between your breasts. Your chest rose under him as you took a deep breath in, letting it out in a contented sigh as he lifted his head to look at you.

“This is fancy,” he ran his fingers over the thin strap decorating the top of your breast. “Did you wear this to uni?”

“No,” you shook your head, your chest moving under his hand as you laughed. “Bit much for a lecture, I think.”

You watched his hand as his fingertip trailed down between your breasts and along the underwire as he chuckled.

“Yeah, maybe.”

If you didn’t wear it when you went out, did that mean you changed into it just for him?

“What do you think, though?”

“Hmm?” Tom hummed, looking up to see you gesturing to your chest.

Were you actually asking what he thought of your bra? Or maybe just your boobs in general? It was more likely that you meant the bra, but either way the answer was the same.

“Oh, yeah, uh,” his eyes returned to your bra, like he even had to think about his reply. “Very nice.”

“Thanks… you know you’ve seen this bra before, actually.”

“Oh?”

Tom felt like he should probably look at your face instead of your chest while you were talking, but then you were talking about your bra, so many it was okay if he kind of went back and forth between them.

“Yeah, you know that Snapchat I sent you?”

“Ohh right, yeah.” Now he thought about it, it was actually kind of familiar, though if he was honest he had been more focused on the fact that you had sent him a picture of yourself in your bra than on what the bra itself looked like. “Thanks for that, by the way.”

“You’re welcome,” you laughed again, a cute little laugh that didn’t really match up with the way your hand on the back of his neck pulled him into a kiss.

Tom shifted more on top of you as the kiss deepened, your hand slipping into the back pocket of his jeans to keep his body close to yours as you sucked on his bottom lip. Your other hand was still playing with his hair, your fingers twisting in the curls as he moved to kiss your neck.

“You know it’s funny actually,” you tilted your head to the side as you spoke, a gentle smile in your voice. “I didn’t mean to send that to you.”

…

…….

You what?

“Hmm?” he said instead, his face still buried in your neck but his eyes wide open.

“Yeah.”

That’s not helpful, who was it meant for?

Tom pulled back slightly, shifting to the side and resting his weight on one arm while he waited for you to expand.

“I was sending it to the girls and I just clicked on you too by accident.”

“Oh right… okay.”

He wasn’t really sure why you were telling him this now, or at all really, but if that’s all you meant then that was okay, right? It wasn’t like you meant to send it to another guy. Besides, that was ages ago, things were very different now. Like, if he’d found that out a few weeks ago he probably would have been a bit more freaked out because he had taken that snap as a sign that you were into him, so finding out that it hadn’t been meant for him at all would have kind of shattered that idea. As it was though, he had more than enough evidence now that you were into him, so it didn’t really matter too much now.

“Did you not think the caption was a bit weird?” you spoke again, taking him out of his thoughts and back to the present. “Like, why would I tell you I got this in the sale?”

“Oh, uh,” This is embarrassing - though not more embarrassing than sending a semi-nude to the wrong person. “To be honest, I didn’t read the caption.”

“You know what, that’s fair enough,” you laughed. “I’m glad I sent it anyway.”

“Me too.” Wait that sounds weird- “I mean not just because, like, obviously it’s always nice to see boobs-”

“Well yeah-”

“But it kinda like, you know-”

“-got things going?”

“...yeah,” Tom nodded, a smile growing across his face because yeah, that’s exactly what it did.

You were smiling too, and then before he knew it you were kissing again, his body shifting over yours. He kissed down your chest again, moving down the bed as he went, planning to take off your jeans - and his own, because they were feeling uncomfortably tight right now.

“Oh yeah, I was gonna say-”

Fighting the urge to sigh, Tom just looked up at you from where he was kissing the soft skin just below the band of your bra.

“-you know the other day when you said you wanted to try like, spanking or whatever-”

“Oh, I, uh-”

“- I was just wondering if there, you know, wasanythingelseyouwantedtotry?”

You’d said the last part in one quick go, the words running into each other, leaving Tom blinking up at you as he played them through in his head at half speed. Once he’d worked out what you’d said though, he still didn’t know what to say, because he definitely had not expected you to say that.

“Erm… uh… I don’t know…”

“Oh. Okay, never mind-” your voice went quieter, your face turning slightly as you looked away.

“No, like, it’s just - I can’t think of anything right now, but I’m sure - can I come back to you on that?”

Your eyes met his again, and your face relaxed into a small smile as you nodded.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Cool.”

He waited a moment to see if you had anything else you wanted to say, but you just ran your fingers through his hair and said nothing, so he took that to mean he could continue. He pressed a few more kisses to your stomach before unbuckling your belt, undoing your jeans and pulling them down your legs once you lifted your hips to help him get them off. He swallowed as he tossed your jeans onto the floor, not taking his eyes off your underwear - a thong that matched your bra, barely covering any of you. That settled it, you definitely changed into different lingerie just for him - and that knowledge made it even hotter. Like, you looked amazing regardless, but knowing that it was for him? On purpose? You purposefully dressed like that for him? Yeah, that made it ten times better.

“C’mere,” he murmured, leaning down to wrap his arms around you and rolling you both over so you were on top of him.

You ground down onto him as you kissed, his hands squeezing your ass as you arched your back, rubbing yourself along his length through his jeans. He grunted as your lips left his, instead scattering kisses down his neck and chest as you moved down his body. Soon you were kneeling on the bed between his legs, sucking small purple marks onto the pale skin just above the waistband of his boxers. He was so focused on that that he didn’t even notice you undoing his jeans, until you were pulling them and his boxers down, his hard cock springing free and falling heavily against his stomach.

Tom watched as you licked along his length, sucking him into your mouth when you reached the top. He groaned when you bobbed your head, your cheeks hollowing around him. Your fingers curled around the base of his cock, following behind your lips as they slid up and down his length. You swirled your tongue around the tip as you came off him for a moment to breathe, your hand continuing to move up and down smoothly. After a moment you dipped your head again, taking him back into your mouth a little at a time. Your mouth felt so good around him, so warm and wet, and Tom was just thinking that he’d quite like to reach between your legs and feel something else warm and wet except he couldn’t really reach just now, when it occurred to him that maybe he did have an answer for you.

“Hey…” he muttered, not sure how to begin.

“Hmm?”

Tom closed his eyes for a second, his jaw tensing when you hummed around him. “I thought of something.”

You lifted your head, your hand still moving as your mouth left his cock. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, um,” What’s the best way to say this? Just say it, I suppose. “I dunno, you could like… sit on my face.”

“Hm…” you tilted your head thoughtfully. “What, while I…”

You trailed off, nodding towards your hand around his dick.

“Yeah… if you want.”

You hummed again, your hand still pumping slowly while you mulled it over. After a moment though, you stopped and nodded, sitting back on your heels.

“Yeah, okay.”

You moved aside while Tom took his jeans off, but when he lay back down you stayed kneeling beside him on the bed. He said your name questioningly, looking at you uncertainly.

“...you okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, but didn’t move. “I dunno, it’s just like - it’s very exposing, isn’t it…”

He didn’t really know what to say to that - he’d gone down on you loads of times, so he didn’t really see what the difference was, but there obviously was a difference to you.

“Oh, well,” he sat up a bit, propping himself up on his elbows. “I mean you don’t have to-”

“No, it’s not that,” you cut him off, shaking your head. “It’s just… like I want to but…”

Tom stayed quiet, just watching you have this debate with yourself because it didn’t really seem like it actually had very much to do with him at all.

“D’you mind if I leave my pants on? Like, obviously you can move them to, you know, get at stuff, but like, I dunno-” you sighed, sounding exasperated with yourself. “I know that doesn’t really make sense, I just feel like it would make it easier for me to put my butt in your face.”

He couldn’t help but snort at that - not so much at the idea but just the way you phrased it. You laughed too, only a little more nervously.

“Yeah, ‘course,” he nodded, trying to make his expression more serious. “Whatever makes you comfortable.”

You nodded back, slowly at first but then more decisively.

“Yeah… yeah, okay. Sorry, I’m being weird.”

“Nah you’re fine, don’t worry.”

Tom sat up more, touching your cheek gently as he kissed you. Your lips moved tentatively with his at first, but it didn’t take long before you got back into it. Your fingers wound their way into his hair as he gripped your waist, your body shifting to climb back on top of him.

“Oh right, yeah,” you stopped suddenly, shaking your head with a chuckle. “Other way.”

Both of you laughed as you shuffled on the bed, turning around and swinging your leg over his chest. Tom held your hips as you moved back, until you were right in front of his face. He couldn’t see what you were doing, obviously, but he could feel your body over his as you leaned down, wrapping your hand around his length again. He had a brief moment of panic when he realised that when he pulled your thong aside everything was going to be upside down compared to what he was used to, but then he felt your mouth envelope his cock and he figured he’d just work it out as he went along.

Kneading your ass cheeks firmly as he spread them apart, Tom pressed a few teasing kisses to the wet patch in the centre of your underwear. Your body twitched slightly at the contact, but you didn’t stop what you were doing, so he assumed that meant he was good to continue. With one hand he pulled your thong to the side to expose your pussy, wet and spread open right in front of his face. He wrapped his arms around your body and pulled you that last bit closer, onto the flat of his tongue as he ran it through your folds. Your body still felt a bit tense, but you moaned around him when he traced circles around your clit with his tongue, so that was a good sign, right?

You both carried on like that for a little while, him eating you out while you sucked him off. Sometimes Tom found it kind of hard to concentrate on what he was doing because of what you were doing, but other times you stopped and his cock was just sort of sitting there in your hand while you moaned and pushed back onto his tongue, so he figured the same thing was happening to you so it was alright. Your thong kept trying to move back between your legs though, and he was trying his best to keep it out of the way with his face but eventually he had to pull one hand away from its very important task of squeezing your bum to move it properly.

Holding your underwear aside, he went back to massaging your clit with his tongue. Your mouth tightened around the tip of his cock as you whimpered before you lifted your head, your hand still working his length as you came off him with a wet pop. Tom grunted against your pussy as you started to grind against his face, his fingers digging into your bum as he guided your movements. He could feel the tension in your body building, your thighs tensing -- until your grip on his cock loosened, your hip movements faltered, and you pulled away from him.

“Ugh, sorry,” you groaned, climbing off him when he let his arms fall away from your body and onto the bed.

“What, what’s wrong?”

“I dunno,” you whined as you turned around, crawling back on top of him and straddling his hips. “I just feel like… like I can’t concentrate? I don’t know, I think I just prefer doing one at a time, there’s too much going on.”

“Okay,” Tom just nodded; there wasn’t really much else to say to that.

“Sorry…”

“No, don’t-” he switched quickly to shaking his head. “I know what you mean and like, if you’re not into it then what’s the point, you know?”

“Okay,” You nodded as he shrugged, but your expression remained uncertain. “Still… sorry.”

“Seriously, it’s fine - now we know.”

“Now we know,” you giggled as Tom reached for your hands where they rested on his chest, tugging on them to bring you close enough for him to kiss you.

His hands caressed your body as his tongue roamed your mouth, reaching around to undo your bra - or at least, that was his plan. When he got there, however, he felt way more clasps under his fingertips than he was expecting. He tried his best to keep kissing you as he worked his way through them, but after he’d undone three and it didn’t seem like it was any closer to coming off he had to stop, muttering a frustrated sorry against your cheek.

“Oh, right,” you pushed yourself up, reaching behind you to undo the last couple of clasps. “Yeah, it’s got like five things, sorry.”

All Tom could think was why though? Why make it so complicated? But he didn’t say that, instead he said:

“No worries. What about you?”

You were just leaning down over him again, presumably about to resume kissing him when he said it, and he instantly regretted it when you stopped and tilted your head in confusion.

“What?”

His only explanation was that your habit of starting full on conversations during sex must be rubbing off on him - why else would he interrupt you when you were on top of him with only soaked thong between you? Why didn’t he just let you carry on? It was too late now though, he’d just have to continue and hope it paid off.

“Is, uh, is there anything you wanna try?”

“Oh,” you straightened up again, sitting up straight in his lap. “Hmm.”

Tom watched you thinking, nibbling on your bottom lip contemplatively, and he was beginning to wish he’d just waited to ask you another time before you spoke.

“I’ve never done it standing up, that could be fun…”

Then he really wished he hadn’t said anything, because frankly he was way too tired for that, but you had tried his thing, so it only seemed fair that he try yours.

“Okay.”

“...okay?” you repeated, looking at him questioningly.

“Okay,” he nodded. “Wanna try?”

You seemed to consider for a moment, before shrugging with a casual ‘sure’. You crawled off him and you both got to your feet, your knickers soon finding a home on the bedroom floor.

“So like, how do we… do this?”

“Um, right,” Tom thought for a second, before placing his hands on your hips and guiding you so your back was against the wall, your arms instinctively looping around his neck. “And then I guess if you like,” - he moved one hand down to your thigh - “lift your leg?”

You did as instructed, his hand holding the back of your thigh firmly as you hitched your right leg up to his left hip.

“Erm…right...” he looked back and forth between your face and his dick, now sort of pressed between your abdomens, as you bit your lip to try and stifle the giggle that was threatening to burst out of your mouth.

Hmm.

Tom bent his knees slightly, using his free hand to try and position his cock at your entrance. You lifted up onto your tiptoes, using your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, and that did help a bit. He was able to push inside you, but beyond that he didn’t really know how to go about this. The way your bodies fit together meant that he couldn’t really thrust into you properly - he tried, but it just didn’t really work, and you were still on your tiptoes which didn’t seem sustainable, especially because you were standing on one leg and only staying upright because you were pinned between him and the wall.

“Um-”

“Hmm…”

“This isn’t working, is it?”

Looking between your bodies, your leg wrapped him and your breasts pressed to his chest, he really, really wanted to say it was working, but the truth was it just wasn’t. “Maybe if I lift you up?”

“Pardon?” you laughed, a bewildered expression on your face.

“Like,” Tom squeezed your thigh where it rested on his hip. “Do that but with your other leg.”

You just stared at him for a moment, blinking once, twice, three times before you spoke.

“No.”

“Why not?” He couldn’t help but laugh at your flat tone, the confused smile still frozen on your face.

“Because you’ll drop me.”

Tom opened his mouth to say no, he wouldn’t drop you, but in all honesty he couldn’t say that with 100% certainty. He wouldn’t mean to, obviously, but he was tired, and what if he did drop you? Surely that would be worse than… whatever this was.

“...fine,” he said instead, helping you bring your foot back to the ground before he stepped back, cock slipping out of you in the process.

“What if I bend over the bed?”

“... yeah, that could work.”

And lo, it did work. With you bent over the edge of the bed and him behind you, Tom gripped your hips as he thrust in and out of you steadily. Your hands grabbed fistfuls of the sheets, pushing back to meet his thrusts, and it wasn’t long before he could feel himself getting close, the tension inside him built up after so long spent with your mouth around him and your pussy in his face. His fingers trailed across your hip as he reached around to touch your clit, a grunt passing his lips as he felt your walls twitch and clench around him as you straightened up to give him better access.

“Fuck-”

You turned your head to kiss him, all breathless moans and probing tongues into each other's mouths. Your body twisted as you leaned into the kiss, making Tom’s cock slip out as he moved to thrust into you again.

“Fuck,” he groaned again, more out of frustration than pleasure this time. He went to reposition himself at your entrance, but stopped when you breathed his name.

“Hang on…d’you wanna just...do it normally?”

He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before he nodded.

“Yeah, okay, sure. Sorry.”

You straightened up and turned around properly, your arms wrapping around his neck. “S’okay-”

“I’m just tired and-”

“Seriously, it’s fine-”

“- I’m a bit hungover and-”

“Tom.”

The way you said his name finally made him shut up, assertive but still quiet, gentle.

“You’re fine, it’s fine. That last one was good, I’m just being awkward because I want to kiss you.”

“Oh.”

That was all he had time to say before you kissed him, as if to demonstrate your point - and honestly, you made a really solid argument. So much so that the two of you fell back onto the bed, barely breaking apart as you lay down and he pushed back inside you, your legs spread wide beneath him. Plus, it was nice to be lying down and back in his comfort zone, kissing your neck as he thrust into you, your fingers tugging at his hair, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist--

“Wait wait, stop-”

You both froze as someone came into the house, slamming the front door closed behind them.

For fuck’s sake are you fucking joking?!

Tom kept his face buried in your neck, but he could feel you holding your breath until you heard either Adam or Harrison (he was trying not to think too much about whoever it was) going straight up the stairs. He felt you exhale once an upstairs door banged shut, your hips bucking up as you sighed.

“Okay, carry on.”

He did as he was told and began to move again, thrusting into you. Your moans were quieter now, more restrained, which was a shame, but he’d take what he could get. You bit your lip as he shifted, his arms bracketing your head as he quickly built up speed until he was pounding into you. One hand still tangled in his hair, you slipped the other between your bodies to rub hurriedly at your clit.

“Oh fuck, please,” you whimpered, looking up at him slack jawed and glassy eyed.

“M’gonna - fuck - gonna come,” Tom grunted, feeling your walls clenching and squeezing his cock as he thrust into you as deeply as he possibly could.

Your fingers in his hair tightened, urging him to dip his head to kiss you. You moaned into his mouth as he obliged, your body jerking under his as you came. He kept thrusting into you as he came moments later, his own moans mixing with yours in a hurried, passionate kiss, your hips rutting together as you both rode out your highs. The kiss grew softer as the rhythm of your hips began to slow, until your tongues were lazily dancing together as you ground together slowly.

“Yeah,” you chuckled breathlessly when you finally pulled apart. “We should have just done that to begin with.”

Tom just laughed in reply, scattering kisses across your cheek and down your neck onto your shoulder as he caught his breath. His body was feeling very heavy now, every ounce of tiredness he’d felt earlier coming rushing back after that burst of energy and hormones, and suddenly all he wanted to do was sleep.

��...you’re kinda squishing me a bit, Tom.”

“Hmm?” he hummed, his face nuzzled against your cheek until he replayed your words in his head and understood what you were saying. “Oh! Sorry-”

You unwrapped your legs from around his waist so he could roll off you, before crawling out from underneath him and searching for your underwear on the floor. Tom watched from his spot on the bed as you rummaged through your bag, pulling out a clean pair of knickers and the pyjamas that he’d lent you over the weekend. He just nodded sleepily as you said something about going to the bathroom, taking his dressing gown off the back of the door and tying it around your body before you left the room.

He didn’t think he’d fallen asleep, but it only seemed like a moment later when the door swung open and you came back in, and surely you hadn’t been that quick?

“Someone in there,” you explained when he looked at you in surprise - so maybe he hadn’t fallen asleep, you actually had just come straight back.

Tom nodded again, but this time he sat up, blinking furiously in an attempt to get his eyes to stay open. He couldn’t exactly go to sleep right that second, he was too naked and sticky, so while you hovered by the door waiting for the bathroom to be free he set about cleaning himself up and finding some clean underwear. It was only another minute or two before you both heard the bathroom door open, footsteps going across the landing, and then another door closing.

“Right, be right back.”

By the time you came back for good, Tom had changed into a fresh pair of pyjamas, put something on the TV, and shook out his duvet, and was lying under it all warm and cosy and trying to stay awake at least until you got into bed too.

“Are you actually going to sleep?” you asked as you slipped in under the covers beside him.

“Not like, properly,” he mumbled, turning onto his side holding his arms out for you to wiggle into. “M’just, m’gonna nap… jus’ for a minute…”

He was sure you didn’t believe that - he didn’t believe it either - he’d probably wake up in three hours not knowing who he was or what day it was. He didn’t get to hear whether you had anything to say about it though, because he fell asleep almost immediately, his breathing turning deep and even in your ear in seconds.

⋘ FIFTEEN | SEVENTEEN ⋙

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yeeawwriting · 2 years

Text

Another Family

@modgirlyreposts-revamped here it is!

"You don't have to go, mi señorito." Remus rubbed gentle circles on Kellen's prosthetic hand. "You know, Matt and his brother are having a celebration, we could go there instead."

"I have to, dukey." Kellen stared out the window of Remus's stolen car. "They're my family."

"What, like we aren't?" Kellen winced at the tone. "Im just teasing, doll. Call me when you want me to pick you up, ok?"

Remus nibbled on Kellen's temple, his teeth scraping at his oily skin. "Te amo, señorito."

"Love you too, you overgrown rat." Kellen placed a small kiss on his platonic partner's hook nose, leaving a black lipstick stain.

As Kellen jumped out of the car, he could hear Remus's screeching tires as he pulled away from the curb.

Deep breaths. You got this. Kellen walked up to the door, tentatively knocking.

The door opened slightly, revealing a round face with short, mouse brown hair. "Hello?"

"Here for the event." He simply explained. "Are you a Fitzsimmons?"

"My girlfriend is. I'm Sarah." She opened the door all the way for Kellen to step inside.

Thank Hecate! She didnt ask about his relations to the family!

Unfortunately, Sarah's girlfriend did.

"And who are you?" A teenage girl, around his age, frowned at him. "Friend of Sarah's?"

"We have the same great grandfather." Kellen deadpanned, already regretting not going with his zucchini, maybe commiting a few felonies with the boys.

The girl scowled at him, as if doubting what he said. "Fine." She decided. "Yeah, ok. Sure."

"Millie..." her friend poked her in the arm. "Dont start this." Another boy called her name, to which she left for the kitchen.

"I, uh, I'm Kellen. Kellen Ignatius." He stammered to break the tension. "You are?"

"Millie." The girl, his cousin, answered. "So, you're a part of this family?"

"I don't have a choice." His father was dead, his brother left, and his mother... "It was this or nothing."

"Riiiiight." Millie shook her head.

"Oh, there you are, Millie." An older man came up to the two. He squinted momentarily at Kellen, then relaxed. "Oh, you must be Kellen. You can just call me Maurice. Don't mind my granddaughter, she can be a bit-"

"Grandpa!" Millie stomped her foot, a tick that also belonged to Kellen himself.

"Millie, be nice." Maurice scolded. "Ill be going to get a drink. You two" aimed more at Millie than anything, "get along."

Millie frowned but said nothing. Kellen, trying to break the tension yet again, decided to strike up a conversation. "Is that jet?" He gestured to her jewelry.

"Yeah, how did you..." her eyes trailed to his similar, gothic style. "Where'd you get all that?"

"Oh, this?" He pulled down his weirdcore esque shirt to show off the design. "My partner got it for me. Pretty sure he got it from Hot Topic."

"You hardly ever find those kinds of boots anymore." Millie commented. "Jeez, I'd kill for them."

"I actually did." Kellen joked.

"No way."

"Yes way."

"What one do you go to?" Millie changed the subject.

"Order it offline. Let me show you," he pulled out his phone, displaying the text notification.

🐀🧍‍♂️ <3

- Hey doll, I think I set Matt on fire

-Nvm he'll live

-Aw shit it aint Matt on fire

-IFUCKEDUPIFUCKEDUP

"Anyways," he could tell Millie was reading the text, "here's the site..."

Brooke tapped her fingers on the countertop, watching the two. "So, they went from hostile to being friends?"

"We saw what you did." Dylan sipped his sparkling apple cider. "Maybe its a goth thing?

Brooke laughed. "Maybe they're more related than we thought!"

~~~~~~~~~

"How was it, Kelly bear?" Remus sneezed out some flour.

"What did you do this time?" Kellen hopped in the passenger seat.

"Sacrificed Ro Bro to Pancho." Remus was currently covered in white flour.

"Sure." He decided, knowing better than to ask why.

His hand came to rest on top of what fell like paper. Eyes widening, he picked it up, unfolding it. Blatantly ignoring Remus begging him not to read it. "Aw, what's this?"

"Thats a rough draft!" Remus yelled, biting the blue plastic of his hand.

I wish I could tell you about how when we're looking at the stars, your eyes reflect the Milky Way. I wish I could tell you about how light bouncing off the glasses you forgot to take off waking me up is the best part of my day. I could go on and on, but I wont. And maybe that makes me a bad partner, but you know what? I know you still platonically love me.

Happy anniversary, señorito.

-Reems

"Our anniversary isnt until next week, you big dork." Kellen giggled, blushing a little bit.

"Dork means whale penis!" Remus hollered.

Kellen rolled his eyes. "Youre the best partner I could ask for, you silly trash bastard."

"Love you too, doll."

And they commited crimes happily ever after <3

#janus writes

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blu-archer · 3 years

Text

A pajama day.

Right so here’s the next one.

Flower shop and bakery AU. It’s wholesome.

Snz

No warnings.

Main Pairing: Jimin/Yoongi [because they’re wholesome]

“I vote today be a pajama day.” Jimin mumbled hoarsely as he shuffled into their dainty kitchen looking like he’d just rolled out of bed.

Tae glanced up from his seat on the table, pausing from scrolling through social media long enough to do a once over of his roommate. Quite frankly Tae had thought that Jimin had already left for work, hence why he was on top of the table instead of in the seats. Jimin was a stickler for the ‘glasses not asses’ rule and Tae liked to test the limits as long as he was sure his roommate wasn’t home.

Jimin was usually the one to open the bakery he worked at in the morning since Jungkook -the only other front man besides the owner, Jin - was prone to over-sleeping and Jin liked to go shopping for the store as early as possible. Which left Jimin to be the opener.

Usually.

This morning however seemed to have taken a different route. Jimin’s cotton candy hair was in a rat nest state, and he seemed a shade paler than usual. The dark rings under his eyes more prominent than they usually were. Not to mention that the shorter man was still – as he’d declared – in his sleep rumpled pajama’s, despite it being fifteen minutes away from when the bakery was supposed to open.

“Were you up late or something?” Tae asked with a frown, taking a sip of his tea as he watched Jimin blankly stare into their fridge.

Jimin sniffed and rubbed harshly at his nose, only succeeding in increasing the irritation. He shut the fridge with disappointment and moved to test the heat of the kettle. “Something like that. When did you boil this?”

“It should still be hot.” Tae replied, still watching Jimin with cautious eyes. “Are you okay?”

“No.” Jimin muttered with a pout, getting a clean mug and a tea bag before putting in the hot water – not even bothering to add his usual heaps of sugar or dash of milk. He collapsed into the seat next to Tae, not caring that the other was not seated in the chairs like a normal person, and promptly rested his head in his arms waiting for the tea to rest.

“Jimin, what-“

Hih’ngxsh. Hih’eeXGNshh. ESHishew. Snf.

Ahh. Taehyung winced as he watched Jimin try and fail to stifle his sudden sneezes into his sleeve barely even lifting his head from its previous position. The elders body shook with the effort behind each one only to be left looking slightly flushed and itchy when he pushed himself back upright to try stop his nose from running.

This made a lot more sense, Jimin must have called in sick.

“Oh, poor Minmin.” Taehyung stroked Jimin’s hair. “Do you want me to call Yoongi-hyung to come over?”

“And let him see this?” Jimin asked rhetorically, congestion lingering in his speech. “No thank you.”

Tae nodded in understanding, biting his lip to stop the smile that urged to grow. He was aware that Jimin and Yoongi had only been dating for about a month, but the two had known each other since Jin had decided to set up the bakery next to Yoongi’s flower shop almost five years ago. They had surely seen each other in many different states, probably even sick, but there was obviously something different about it now.

Now it mattered. Because they were “exclusively attracted to one another”, and for some reason that changed things.

“My mistake, do you want me to call someone else? Or get you something before I leave?”

“Can’t you stay…” Jimin pouted harder. “…for pyjama day.”

Tae gave an apologetic sigh. “I have a booking for the day, Min. I can’t cancel on them.”

He knew Jimin understood that. As a freelance photographer he really shouldn’t make a habit of turning anyone away. It was difficult to find any decent work sometimes, so he needed anything he could find. His chest ached in sympathy as he watched Jimin rub at his nose again, only to hitch and catch another double wetly into his wrist. He barely had time to try stifle them like he normally did.

Tae slid off of the table and went to the supply closet they had in their bathroom, haling out whatever cold medicine he could find along with one of the tissue boxes that they stocked in bulk for allergy season.

He returned to see that Jimin hadn’t moved, his wrist was still raised to his face with the expression of pre-sneeze.

If there was one thing Tae could relate to with Jimin, it was the annoying fact that he was also sneezy in nature. Between the two of them they had their fair share of allergies paired with a trait of being prone to illnesses, which made it easier – or perhaps he should say more forgiving – to live together. There was an understanding.

Taehyung set everything down on the table before opening the tissue box for Jimin, smiling at his friend’s thankful eyes before moving to the kitchen cupboards to look for food.

“Do you want soup?” Tae asked. “I think we have some canned stuff, or I can order you something?”

Jimin wiped his nose with a tissue, annoyed at the tickle that still had not left him. “I’ll just heat up a can later.”

Tae hummed but dragged out a can of soup anyway. “This seems to be all that we have, I’ll put it on the stove so that you can eat something before you take some meds.” He pulled out a small pot and opened the can, listening as Jimin gave up on just wiping and ended up trying to clear his sinuses – only to induce his next fit of sneezes. “If I can get back early enough, I’ll try stop at the store and get some more stuff for you.”

With the soup being heated up Tae hesitantly left his roommate to his tea while he went to shower. he felt really bad about having to leave, but he really didn’t have a choice.

Jimin spent a few minutes coaxing out the annoyingly ticklish sneezes that left him a teary mess, trying to catch everything into the once soft but now wet tissues. His head and throat ached with each hitch of his breath and all he wanted to do was be able to breathe normally again.

Jimin could not believe his luck.

Wednesdays had quickly become his favourite days of the week. He would arrive at the bakery just past 6:30 to open at 8. Once he had checked that all of the goods were displayed and fresh, making sure that the shop was clean and the coffee machines were on, then he’d wait. It never took long, 8:15 sharp, Yoongi would peep his head in with a single flower – often changing it with each meet up, but they were all equally beautiful and left Jimin feeling warm inside.

It wasn’t that he didn’t see Yoongi those other days, it was just that Wednesdays held the charm of letting them have some moments alone before other staff or customers bothered either of them. In fact, despite Jimin and Yoongi not working in the same store, it sure seemed like they did at times with how well the two places worked together. More often than not the staff would be running between the back doors to make sure that orders were handed over and information shared from customers that had asked ideally for some collaborated event.

Jimin loved Wednesday’s because he and Yoongi got to relax for at least the first twenty minutes, without having the fatigue of the day wearing on him or the stress of having to multitask their work as well as socialising with everyone else. That last part was probably worse for the elder, who had never been a fan of interacting with others so much anyway.

Jimin got to witness Yoongi being soft and gentle and hear about his days and thoughts without interruption. Even the few dates they had been on had been a bit tainted by exhaustion for the both of them, so the brief moments of peace were always a blessing – especially if Jimin got to share it with a particularly sweet flower boy.

But now he was going to miss that today.

Perhaps he should send a message to Yoongi and let him know what was happening… but then he wasn’t sure what Yoongi would do.

Jimin had barely acknowledged his phone, only using it to message Jin a brief explanation of his absence and a quick but sincere apology. He hadn’t bothered to check the messages he was sure had come from Jungkook and was at a loss of what he should tell Yoongi. It was just a cold, he was sure. If he could try to catch and control it early he could go back to work quicker.

Telling Yoongi would just be pointless, he decided. Jimin would be back to work in a few days but knowing his co-workers they would surely relay any information onto the florist.

It still sucked though.

After Tae had left – having forced the soup into Jimin then made sure some form of medication had been taken before leaving – Jimin had found himself bouncing between his bedroom, the lounge and the balcony overlooking the city- bundling against the cold wind every time he chose the third option.

He couldn’t seem to go back to sleep despite being tired and it was no fun trying to watch movies by himself. He wished Taehyung could have stayed, or that Jungkook could come over just so that he could have someone to cuddle with, but he couldn’t call the younger over and rob the bakery of yet another worker. No, Jimin would just suffer through the day with tea and tissues.

Eventually, after a lot of shifting and another small dose of cold meds when his sinuses had encouraged a headache to settle in again, Jimin retrieved his phone from where he had left it in his room. He perched himself on the couch and scrolled through social media, looking at pictures of old friends going out and travelling to new places. It looked like fun, but it wasn’t something that Jimin had always been too keen on. He preferred the small community that he worked and lived with and took pride in the beauty of the place he had made his home.

He paused on an image of the front of ‘Spring Day’ that had been posted on the bakeries Instagram page. From the quality of the photo Jimin could only assume it was Jungkook that had taken it – work must not be too busy then. The image showed Hoseok grinning widely as he opened up the large shop windows, becoming surrounding by flowerpots and plants hanging down from the ceiling and the vines creeping along the trellis beside him. It was a very natural and welcoming photo that Jungkook had captioned with some cheesy flower quote. Looking closer Jimin could just make out a second figure in the back that fell just out of focus. Yoongi must have been setting up some of the new stock inside while Hobi was goofing off with Jungkook.

Jimin could almost imagine the grumpy mumbling that the elder must have been doing before trying his best to stay out of the range of the camera – never wanting to be the face of the company.

Jimin’s smile fell as he coughed openly, snuggling deeper his seat and pulling a blanket that Tae had left out over himself. His eyes trained onto the blurry figure of his boyfriend, his own vision becoming somewhat blurred and the small ache growing in his chest only seemed to worsen.

#bts sickfic #minyoon #snz #flower shop #bakery #business neighbours #its meant to be cute #Jimin suffers #fanfiction

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neverdoingmuch · 3 years

Note

I just really love Two Person Love Triangles and Identity Porn. So, maybe a You've Got Mail AU? Or a superhero AU when one of them falls for both the masked hero and the secret identity?

because i love both of these aus i’ve written both!! but they’re pretty long bc i wouldn’t be me if i didn’t plot out an entire fic so the superhero au is here.

as for the you’ve got mail au, i went off and watched the movie for the first time and i am delighted by your taste anon,,, the au works so well!!

(okay for some reason tumblr won’t let me indent my bullets so idk how to fix that so big rip)

so we have lan & sons books, a company that prides itself on providing cheap books for everyone to read. think less evil corporation and more we wanted to provide easily accessible books for all people and ended up getting really rich off it

mr lan dadman was meant to be in charge but he ran off and lqr stepped up until lxc was old enough to take over and now lqr just kinda assists lxc when he needs help and does some other work

lqr is definitely the old guy who had a letter thing with this one woman who was enchanting but instead he was chatting to cssr and she was shameless

anyway lwj works as *random high up job that joe fox has* and his best work friend (and real friend) is jin zixuan

jin zixuan is the heir to some coffee franchise and the two families have a deal which is why you have the cafe inside the bookstores

we gonna give lwj some friends

as for wwx, his mother owned a bookstore, the burial mounds (why did she name it that?? idk she probably told bssr that she wanted to call it that as a joke and bssr tried to call her bluff so she ended up having to call it that a la suibian)

anyway he grew up with his mother and grandmother and they left the store to him (idk what happened to them?? maybe they just retired and are now travelling the world while wwx gets to have the bookstore)

now for the actual plot!!

lwj and wwx met on omegle an instant messaging site and now exchange emails. wwx goes by yiling patriarch and lwj goes by hanguang-jun bc we want that flavour

so they’ve been emailing for years and they never share any personal information - wwx knows that hgj has a pet rabbit but not hgj’s name or his job

as for the significant others?? idk let’s pretend they don’t exist.

wwx’s best friend nhs, who writes a column for so-and-so, always just comes over to his place and now he’s semi moved in and wwx isnt really sure why he’s here but he is.

lwj just vibes bc i can’t see him putting up with a patricia unless his uncle forced him to. even then he’d probably just be ~mysteriously~ gone while she’s home

maybe he has a really annoying pa who thinks its his job to come over and like make him breakfast. it’s su she,, it has to be

so wwx goes into work one morning and wen ning is waiting outside as he always is, ready for him to open and then like ten minutes later wen qing comes in and lastly granny wen comes in

why do they work together?? idk?? granny wen and bssr were close and so the wens and wwx kinda grew up as siblings? yeah i like that let’s go with that

so when cssr decided to go travelling wwx gets left with her store and he kinda knows how to run it but also he doesn’t have enough staff so he ends up hiring the wens (except granny who’s mostly there just to hang out with her family)

bonus: a-yuan always come to the shop after school and wwx gets to recreate the childhood he had with his mother with a-yuan. when the store closes wwx and a-yuan just twirl and twirl until they get too dizzy to stand up and then they lay on the floor and discuss their favourite book they’ve read this week. it’s very sweet

okay so the next day lwj gets to babysit his cousin/uncle/nephew/idk-how-they’re-related-person lan jingyi who is like eight or something?

they go out and hang at a festival and lwj does not buy him a goldfish bc i was very stressed by the way they treated the goldfish in the movie but he does get him balloons and a stuffed toy and plays all the games with him

eventually they’re walking back and see that the small bookstore near the new lan bookstore is hosting a story time so they go inside

lwj walks in and he’s immediately taken by the atmosphere of the store bc that place was absolutely beautiful and then he hears this voice and follows it around to the back of the store to see the most gorgeous man he’s ever seen in his life sitting on a kinda too small chair with a princess hat? cone? thing on top of his head

he’d planned to stay for like one story and then take jingyi home but he ends up staying for the entire book and it’s definitely not because the guy reading the book smiled at him once or twice

after the story time ends, lwj is reluctant to leave so he ends up letting jingyi pick a bunch of books and looks at a few fancy first edition books with wen qing

and maybe his mother used to love collecting books - the old ones with the yellowed pages and beautiful pictures - and that’s why lwj helps out with his family business,, bc he wants everyone to be able to have books like that (never mind that all their books are like mass produced and lack any sentimentality & the staff dont actually care about the books)

anyway he sees wwx help jingyi pick out books and lets him borrow his handkerchief when he sneezes and lwj’s like oh nooo he’s good with kids too so now he has to talk to him

so he goes up to buy the books and wwx’s telling jingyi about how much he likes daisies and lwj just blurts out “can i ask what your name is?” and wwx blinks but then smiles and is like i’m wei wuxian, but you can call me wei ying, and i own this store. what about you? and lwj is like wangji, you can call me wangji

wen qing takes one look at lwj and the way he’s staring at wwx and goes you’re going to come back aren’t you and lwj is trying so hard not to just run away so he just ignores her but then she mentions something about lan books and he’s Panicking and jingyi almost says that he’s a lan and lwj just kinda guides him over to a table and then goes back to flirt talk with wwx

anyway wwx ends up going on this big tangent about books and what they mean to people and the whole when you read a book as a child it becomes a part of your identity and who you’re going to become the way nothing else does (and lwj remembers his mother and her books) and then he apologises for going on and lwj is mentally going marry me, but he ends up calling wwx and his mother shameless

but it’s okay!! wwx & cssr are proud of it!

and then yada yada lwj buys the kinda expensive books and ends up awkwardly shepherding jingyi out of the store

cut to the next day when the lan book store opens properly and lwj ends up telling lqr about how he met wwx and lqr is like >:/ the son of that shameless woman,, how terrible,, it’s okay he won’t be a problem for long bc they’ll be driven out of business. which isn’t the response lwj wanted but lxc seems supportive enough if a bit concerned about how it would work with them as business enemies

business is already bad for wwx and it’s barely been a week since the lan store opened and he’s pretty bummed out but hopeful that maybe it’s a fluke

then nhs invites him to some fancy dinner with him bc wei-xiong they’re all so boring and smart and have opinions, please don’t make me have opinions so wwx gets dragged along

he ends up talking to lwj at the bar bc how could he not talk to the man who’s standing in front of all that fancy alcohol and getting some fruit juice. (he’d get water but lwj has had to put up with su she all evening so he needs something stronger)

anyway they chat and it’s pleasant but then after wwx gets approached by someone who’s like wow im surprised you’re talking to lan wangji and wwx is like lan?!

cue their passive aggressive argument around the food table complete with caviar and a turkey knife.

now bc it’s lan wangji,, instead of making scathing comebacks he just makes like factual and to-the-point statements that end up being really bitchy (or does he intend them to be that way? it’s a mix of both of them tbh but in this case he’s definitely being bitchy on purpose) and wwx is spluttering bc that boy does not stand up well against hot and mad people

nhs ends up coming over and defusing the situation but wwx makes a point of stealing the rest of the caviar off lwj’s plate before leaving

lwj ends up ducking out early as well to avoid su she and emails wwx that night at like 9:45 bc the guilt of being so rude kept him up late and yllz is like oh no that’s so sad ): but impressive! i wish i could zing people,, my brain just turns off the second i need to make a comeback

creative liberties,, wwx is good at teasing but not being genuinely mean? lets go with that

anyway now we get the delightful montage of wwx hiding behind cheese displays and lwj walking out of coffee stores with a newspaper covering his face as they try to avoid each other

when wwx gets in the wrong line at the supermarket lwj comes over and kinda glares the checkout woman into submission and gets her to let wwx use his card which wwx is really conflicted about bc why would he help me?? and once again angry lwj = hot lwj

a few weeks later wwx ends up asking hgj for help bc business isn’t getting any better but refuses to give any details and i refuse to have lwj watch the godfather so lwj just straight up messages him and is like tear that bitch apart

and so wwx decides to tear that bitch apart and asks nhs for help. nhs, fan of the arts and small businesses and local culture, is 100% down for it and writes a scathing article about lan books and how they’re destroying all the aforementioned things nhs cares about

it ends up getting a lot of traction and people show up to protest and wwx even goes on television

lwj ends up seeing the news coverage on the matter while he’s at the gym with jzx

jzx is 100% the guy who goes to the gym just to apathetically walk on the treadmill while lwj jogs

he sees the interview with wwx and lwj is like he’s not this nice in real life and jzx is like you met him?? and lwj is like mn. then jzx is like i bet he’s not as hot and lwj is completely silent but his ears are bright red and that’s how jzx knows that wwx is just that hot

also?? lwj goes on tv and says like three words and he’s kinda annoyed how the news decided to spin that but he also said like three words so what did he expect?

but, despite all the publicity, sales don’t get any better so wwx is like fine can we meet in person and lwj is like sure

he brings jzx along bc he doesn’t know the way there, it’s not because he’s nervous and kind of in love with yllz, it’s because he doesn’t know how to get to the cafe. (it’s two blocks from his apartment)

anyway jzx is like oof man it’s seems like yllz is wwx but he is that hot so not all is lost and lwj is like yikes no not happening im not going in but he also feels bad about standing wwx up so he ends up going in and sitting down in front of wwx

and lwj is like wei wuxian, all this publicity will do nothing to save your business and wwx is like lan wangji who do you think you are (or however that scene goes) but instead of lwj being asked to leave wwx decides he’s not gonna chicken out first so they end up spending like two hours having the most aggressive cup of coffee and chat he’s ever had

lwj is exhausted but he also refuses to give up

but then wwx spits something about how lwj is some cold, heartless suit who doesn’t actually care about or appreciate books so how can he possibly dare to think that he’s better than wwx and that hurts bc lwj had thought that he’d been doing exactly that so he leaves

anyway the next morning wwx is moping around the bookstore bc he didn’t get stood up, he swears. am i not cute enough he moans to wen qing and she’s like your hgj doesn’t know what you look like. but what about my personality? is that cute enough? and wen qing eventually manages to grit out that yes it is cute enough

wen ning comes in and is like are you okay? you got stood up? that’s good! your date might have been the rooftop killer xue yang! he got caught last night! and wwx is like i wish, i just got stood up like a chump

so they ignore each other for a few weeks bc wwx is very hurt and lwj doesn’t know what he’s going to say but wwx ends up caving and emails hgj about how guilty he feels and how even though wwx probably means nothing to lwj, he’s worried that maybe he did hurt lwj and also please hgj i still want to talk to you

now hgj never says a lot, he’s always really succinct and direct but this time he takes the time to write a proper apology. it’s not an explanation bc he doesn’t want to give this up, even if the yllz he thinks he loves is the wwx that he hates, but it is an apology

the next day wwx goes to lunch with granny wen and finally dares to ask her whether it would be okay to shut the store down. he doesn’t want, of course he doesn’t want to, but he doesn’t think he can afford to keep it open. granny just tells him that it’s okay and that if the time has come, the time has come

we don’t have to worry about wwx breaking up with anyone, so he just goes home and asks nhs if he can have some space and nhs quickly packs his stuff and goes home. as he stands in the doorway with his last box of stuff he tells wwx that he’s sorry and wishes he could help more and wwx sends him this tremulous smile but manages to hold it together until nhs leaves and then he cries and cries

the next day he goes back to work and tries to stay bubbly and cheery even as he sees all of his shelves slowly being emptied and people who haven’t stepped foot in his store in six months are telling him what a shame it is and how they wish it didnt have to come to this and wwx is internally screaming

he manages to stave off any actual screaming but when he closes up that day he ends up going to the children’s section of lan bookstore and just as he had thought, none of the staff care about the books, none of them know any books and he ends up recommending a series to some young mother

lwj, who’d spotted wwx and come over to see if whether he was here to pick a fight, comes to the awful realisation that maybe wwx is right about his store lacking heart

he goes home that night and su she tags along even though lwj just wants space and the elevator breaks. he’s sitting there on the ground listening to his neighbour talk about reconnecting with family and the elevator button pressing dude talks about getting engaged and su she is just there whining about his job and the inconvenience and lwj goes fuck this. when the elevator starts working again he grabs his rabbit and goes back down to the ground floor, ignores su she’s shouts, and goes back to his childhood home

wwx gets stuck closing his store down. he looks around at the shelves and tables he’d grown up with and sees his childhood and a-yuan’s and countless moments he’s had with people he’s loved and realises he’s going to lose it all forever. he grabs the bell, the last thing he has left of the store and closes up for the very last time

in the meantime, lwj is living the high life. he hangs out with his bunny, gets to read pride and prejudice for fun and actually manages to get all the way through it and then his brother comes to visit

apparently he’d broken up with jgy bc he was gold digger-esque and had decided to run off with someone richer and lwj is like oh thats so sad ): anyway nmj is right there and he fills your heart with joy and lxc is like have you ever had someone like that? and lwj immediately thinks of wwx and is like fuck

his first order of business is to buy wwx’s shop bc it broke my heart that she didn’t get it back in the og movie and he starts filling it with books again. he buys ten copies of his mother’s favourite books and places them on the shelf by the door and then he sees a book that reminds him of jingyi so gets some of them and he sees a book covered in daisies and thinks of wwx. and slowly, slowly he’s building up his own library, his own store, and this time every single book means something and for once lwj looks out across the floor with pride and satisfaction

his second order of business is to apologise to wwx for being a dick. he buys some daisies and goes to his place and comes in and cooks soup for wwx. lwj apologises and tells him it wasn’t personal and wwx is like that’s not true, it was personal to me and it’s personal to a lot of people and lwj understands that now. he remembers the way he’d filled wwx’s store and left his own touch and bared his heart through each of those books and he understands. he doesn’t actually say this and just tells wwx that he wants to be friends

lwj considers coming clean about being hgj but he knows now that he definitely loves wwx and knows that wwx currently hates him but damn is it hard not to say anything when wwx is telling him how much he loves hgj

anyway he’s like organise a meeting again with hgj

i’d say it’s ooc for lwj not to come clean but this is the man who pined for x decades and just didnt tell wwx that his son was alive so like not ooc at all

so lwj decides he’s going to woo wwx as best as he can and organises to meet up with yllz and then goes and meets with wwx and they end up going to hang out and for some strange reason, even though wwx keeps getting stood up, he doesn’t seem to care too much. he keeps agreeing to meet hgj and when he doesn’t show is more than happy to spend the rest of his day with lwj

and slowly, they start to get closer. wwx takes a sip of lwj’s coffee and lwj buys him daisies. wwx brings him an interesting book and lwj tells him about his mother. they chat freely about hgj and lwj is happy for the first time in a long time

eventually lwj organises the final meeting. wwx is really confused about the place he picked but he’s hopeful that maybe this time hgj will show. after wwx and lwj’s farmers market date ends, lwj ends up asking wwx if he could love lwj and wwx is like you put me in such an uncomfortable situation. ie stammering and blushing and eventually going oh no ill be late and running off

anyway a couple hours later wwx finds himself standing outside his old bookstore and he refuses to look at it bc he doesn’t want to see what it’s become but then, through the open door of the store, a bunny hops out and over to wwx

lwj comes running out after it calling out its name (bichen?? flopsy?? rabbit?? one of them) and wwx looks up and is like oh,, it’s you, i’d hoped it was you and he’s all teary and lwj has a handkerchief that he’d embroidered himself (with gentians of course) and he’s like dont cry yllz and then they kiss and it’s beautiful

bonus: lwj takes wwx inside the store and shows him everything and explains the meaning behind every book that they’ve picked and then wwx does cry for real bc there is definitely an entire two walls dedicated just to wwx

do they open the store as a bookstore again and work together? does wwx end up writing books?? idk up to you. i like the idea that they open the store for story time and sell children’s books but lwj still works with lan & sons to get some heart in their stores and wwx works on his own books in his spare time

#Anonymous #mdzs #modao zushi #mo dao zu shi #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #cql #the untamed #asks #thank you so much for the ask i had a lot of fun making this!#let me know if you'd like anything else!!

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wanderingcas · 5 years

Text

@bekindplsrewind prompt: Found the phone number of an old childhood friend in some box at the back of the closet and decided to call it to see if it still worked AU. in other words: dean is afraid of phones destiel. 1.7k. fluff & phone shenanigans.

“How did you accumulate all this junk?” Sam asks. He punctuates the point by throwing a pink crop top that says “Real Women Lift Weights” at Dean’s face.

“This isn’t junk,” Dean protests, “this was from my junior year in high school.” He carefully puts the crop top on the bed, letting out a sigh. “What a time of sexual discovery.”

“God, Dean. The fact remains—” Sam dives in deeper into Dean’s closet, on his hands in knees, pushing boxes and clothes across the floor at random, “—that Mom is showing this house on Wednesday, and no one is going to want to even consider buying it with all your cluttered crap all over the place.”

Dean snatches a Spock figurine off the floor before Sam’s knee collides with it. “Your room was worse.”

“Yeah, but I cleaned it.”

Making a face at the back of his brother’s head, Dean sits cross-legged on the ground. “Fine. But I’m the final say on what’s garbage or not.”

“We’re never getting out of here,” Sam sighs. But he reluctantly passes Dean a small shoebox anyway.

Dean opens it and sneezes. It clearly hadn’t been opened since before he had to start shaving on a regular basis. He rifles through the contents: colorful paperclips, a note that a cute girl had written to him in eighth grade, a small notebook that had SAM RULES written on the front that was crossed out and modified to SAM SMELLS. Dean chuckles and launches the notebook at Sam’s head.

Not stooping to Dean’s tactics to derail the cleaning situation, Sam calmly slides another Nike shoebox in Dean’s direction.

“You’re no fun,” Dean mutters, taking the top off of the shoebox. He pauses.

The polaroid picture staring at him from the bottom of the box all but slams into his brain, making him remember the moment like it was yesterday. Him and Cas had found a polaroid camera at a neighbor’s garage sale, but instead of buying it, they held it under their chins and took a picture with it, stealing the picture and running away with it. They giggled in Cas’ tree house as the photo slowly revealed their chins, stuck-out tongues, and wayward eyes drawn into obnoxious faces.

“Who’s that?” Sam asks over Dean’s shoulder. Dean jumps almost a foot in the air.

“Jesus, Sam, warn a guy.” Dean hastily shoves the picture back into the box. “And you remember Cas, you dumbass.”

“I was only four, Dean, give me a break,” Sam says. “That’s the kid you hung out with in Dad’s neighborhood before he sold the house, right?”

Dean softly scoffs. ‘Before Dad went off the alcoholic deep end and lost the house in a foreclosure,’ was more accurate. John had ghosted soon after that, leaving Mary with full custody of Sam and Dean. Her neighborhood was across town from Cas’.

“The last time I saw him was probably… I dunno…” Dean whistles through his teeth. “Probably when I was eight or nine.”

“I remember when you tried to run away to see him once,” Sam says. “You got a garbage bag full of your stuff and everything.”

Dean chuckles. “Yeah, and Mom just watched me drag that thing down the street until the bag ripped and I had to come home.”

“Overdramatic,” Sam says with a grin.

“Whatever, like you were an angel.” Dean rifles around in the box for more Cas-related stuff: broken, smoothed-over green glass they found by a creek that they were convinced were priceless jewels (they weren’t), an old broken ping pong ball they thought was a bird’s egg (again, it wasn’t), notes from Cas that were passed to Dean during class.

And a phone number.

Dean remembers the number as soon as he reads it: 555-9875. Cas had told Dean that if they ever get in trouble, or move away, they have to remember each other’s phone numbers so the other person can help. “Even when we’re adults!” Cas proclaimed from atop the slide, arms outstretched before he tumbled off the side (he did that a lot, climbing to high places, and making Dean’s too small heart already having premature attacks from fear).

“You should call it,” Sam says, again prying his big nose into Dean’s personal business.

“What? No way. It probably wouldn’t even work.”

“I dare you,” Sam offers.

“Jesus, Sam, how old are we?”

“Fine.” Sam crosses his arms. “If you call that number, I will clean out most of this closet myself, and you won’t have to lift a finger.”

Dean considers. He looks down at the frayed, yellowed paper. It’s been twenty years. It’s likely that the number is disconnected, or belongs to someone else.

“Deal,” he decides, whipping out his cell phone. “But you can’t throw away anything, okay? Not without my say.”

“I’ll get a box,” Sam sighs, rising to his feet.

Dean waits until Sam stomps out of the room before carefully dialing the number. He holds it to his ear and waits, hearing his own heartbeat vibrate the receiver.

One ring. Two. Three, until—

“Hello?” asks a voice.

Dean hesitates. It’s male, but couldn’t possibly be Cas, because the Cas he remembers had an obnoxiously pipsqueak voice, not this gravelly one that sounds like the guy just got finished chewing nails for breakfast. “Uh, hey,” he says.

There’s a beat too long of silence. “Can I help you?” the man asks again.

“Oh, yeah, well. Uh. I was just wondering—does Cas Novak still live there?”

“This is he.”

Dean’s face freezes. He gapes at Sam who has just walked back into the room. Sam’s mouth moves into a silent “What?” while Dean frantically gestures at the phone and yells silently “Cas! CAS!”

“Hello?” Cas asks over the receiver.

Sam, saving the day as usual, does a dive toward Dean and smacks him over the head with a box to stop his panic attack in its tracks.

“Oh, awesome.” Dean clears his throat. “It’s, uh—it’s Dean. Dean Winchester. I… yeah.”

The wariness in Cas’ voice is completely dropped when he repeats, “Dean? Oh my god.”

“You remember me?” Dean blurts out.

“Of course I remember you, I—” Cas laughs. Dean breathes in sharply. “This is so strange, I’m just here helping my mother move and the phone rings and—” He laughs again, more airy and bewildered. “It’s great to hear from you. What’s it been, twenty years?”

“Something like that,” Dean says. “You know, we’re moving my mom out of her house too. Must be a ‘moving your mother’ convention in town.”

Across the room, Sam groans and holds his head in his hands.

But Cas laughs, miraculously, and says, “Must be. Do you still live in town?”

“Uh, yeah. You?”

“Yes. I moved away for college, of course, but now I’m back.”

Dean smiles down at the floor. He picks at a thread of carpet. “Remember when we made a pact to go to the same college?”

“I do. In Australia, if I remember correctly.”

“Did you go to Australia?”

“No,” Cas chuckles. “Did you?”

Cheeks coloring, Dean stutters, “Uh, well, the college route—it wasn’t for me. So that’s a negative.”

“College is an ample waste of time, I don’t blame you,” Cas says. There’s a noise in the background that Dean can’t quite identify. “Dean, I’m sorry to cut this short, but my mother needs help dealing with the movers.”

“Oh, sure, Cas, no prob.” Dean looks up at Sam, who is gesticulating wildly, miming out a pen and paper like a crazy person. “Do you uh…”

“Dean—” Cas says at the same time. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

“No, you go,” Dean says, smacking his forehead with a palm.

“I was just—I was wondering if you wanted to get coffee. Maybe catch up. I know it’s been a while, but—”

“Yes!” Dean blurts out. He gapes at Sam, who is giving him a very enthusiastic thumbs-up. “Yeah, uh—that’d be awesome, Cas.”

He can hear the smile in Cas’ voice when he says, “Wonderful. I’ll give you my number.”

Sam digs in his pocket and flicks a pencil at Dean’s head. Dean quickly scribbles down the number Cas gives him over the phone, on the yellowed paper just under Cas’ childhood one.

“So I’ll just text you some times and days, then?” Dean asks.

“That’d be wonderful.” Cas pauses. “Thank you for calling, Dean.”

“Uh, sure, Cas. Thank you for, uh. Answering, I guess.”

Cas laughs. Dean could listen to that laugh for days. “Goodbye, Dean.”

“Ciao, Cas.” Dean flips his phone shuts and yells at it, “CIAO? Who the fuck do I think I am!?”

“We’re looking him up on Facebook!” Sam declares, making a nose-dive for his backpack. He yanks out his turn-of-the-dark-ages laptop and begins to wildly type.

Dean lays on the ground and pulls the pink crop top over his face. “That was the fucking worst thing I’ve ever done,” Dean declares.

“What’s his last name?”

“Novak,” Dean groans into the fabric. “I’m gonna text him, but he won’t text me back, because who would text back a psychopath that just randomly calls your childhood best friend’s phone number—”

“Dean,” Sam says.

“—and what if he’s the psychopath, or worse, not even Cas and he was just pretending and I meet up with him and get killed or worse he steals Baby and—”

“Dean,” Sam barks.

“What,” Dean yells back, flinging the crop top off his head.

Sam turns the laptop around and taps, hard, on the screen. “Dean, your childhood best friend is hot.”

Squinting, Dean raises his head toward the Facebook page sprawled out on the screen. There’s a picture of a very blue-eyed, very chiseled, very dark-haired man smiling in his profile picture. Dean can immediately match the voice to the face—he even recognizes remnants of young, eight-year-old Cas in between those smile lines—and his soul leaves his body for a moment.

“I need to text him immediately,” Dean says, wide eyed, to Sam.

“You need to text him immediately,” Sam agrees.

(Dean does, of course, after many beers and a lot of texting with subsequent deleting. It’s a story that Sam loves to tell at Dean and Cas’ wedding, a few years later.)

#destiel #destiel drabble #inacatastrophicmind #starsmish #woefulcas #spncreatorsdaily #mowripro #wanderingwrites #anyway there it is #*flings it into the universe*

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bensakindofmagic · 4 years

Text

Chapter Eighteen

A/N: look at how fucking soft he is in this pic, i'm weeping, imagine opening facetime and seeing that face

Warnings: none, just fluff

w/c: 3.1k+

Chapter Eighteen

Filming was tough. The light was sparse in Scotland at that time of year, so everything had to be ready to go the second the sun came up in order to maximise productivity. It was cold and windy, and often raining, and if it weren’t for a delightful cast and crew you would have been thoroughly miserable. You weren’t nearly so close with them as the Borhap boys, but they kept you in decent spirits. The real hardship, however, was being away from Ben. For as long as you’d known each other you hadn’t spent more than two days apart — even when you were barely on speaking terms you still saw him everyday. Your colleagues noticed how often you were on your phone during breaks (and you were sure there were some people who resented what they perceived to be anti-social behaviour), but it was because every time you looked Ben had sent you a dozen messages: pictures of Frankie, a link to a video that he thought you’d find funny, news articles that he thought would interest you, pictures he found on the internet, but more often than not just a message to say he missed you. You guessed that the separation was probably harder for Ben, given that he was the remaining party. You left for a new environment that he had never been in, and while you ached for him often, work kept you busy and there were plenty of people round to distract you. Ben was left with a hole where you used to be, an empty place on the sofa or at the table, and a sudden lack of company (though you noticed on social media that he was suddenly spending a lot more time meeting up with old friends, which made you happy). But at certain moments, like when you were standing in the pouring rain and shivering as the sunlight began to dwindle, you were desperate for him to wrap his strong arms around you and carry you to bed, where he would proceed to hold you tightly until all the chill had been chased from your bones. You felt a buzz in your pocket, somewhere in the great depths of your coat. It was a message from Ben asking when you were due to wrap for the day.

Y/N: about 5.30pm. can’t wait to have a shower i’m freezing my bollocks off

Ben: You don’t have any bollocks

Y/N: well not anymore obviously!!

Ben: Facetime at 6?

Y/N: better make it 6.30, it’s going to take a while to warm me up

Ben: Wish I was there to help ;)

You were relieved when the director declared that there wasn’t enough light and you’d have to wrap it up for the day. Performing your duties as swiftly and efficiently as possible, you raced back to your hotel room and peeled off layers of clothing that had seemingly frozen onto your skin and jumped in the shower. You stood under the water for a long while, letting it hit your head and trickle down your body, warming you up little by little. You thought back to times when Ben would be in that shower with you, and your whole body would feel as thought it was on fire, though it had nothing to do with the scalding water. But the smile that adorned your face at the memory was melancholic, and soon you longed to be out of the shower and on your laptop to talk to him. You made a cup of tea, put on your fluffiest pyjamas, and sat down on the bed to call Ben just in time. His name popped up on your screen with a now familiar ringtone.

“Hey, Benny!” you delighted as you saw his face on your screen, as close as he could feel in the present circumstances.

“Hi gorgeous!” he smiled brightly and held Frankie up to the screen to wave hello with her little paw, “I’ve missed you.”

“What, since we facetimed last night and texted two hours ago?”

“Yes. I’ve missed your cuddles.”

You sighed, you’d missed his too. The long distance would have been okay if it weren’t for how much you ached to hold each other. Day-to-day, Ben expressed most of his affection through touch and you could see more and more how tough he was finding being denied that.

“I was thinking about you in the shower today,” you mused.

He smirked, “Is that so? What were you doing while you were thinking about me?”

You rolled your eyes and laughed, “That’s not really what I meant,” — though the question was certainly warranted, Ben didn’t need to know the answer just yet — “I was thinking about how much I miss you holding me. Not to get too soppy or anything.”

“Well you know how soppy I am, love,” he assured. That made you smile.

“I just miss touching you — not in a sexy way! Although that too — it’s the feel of you, you know?”

He nodded, reassuring you that he knew exactly what you meant. It hadn’t even been a month and you were both struggling more than you cared to admit. You’d missed your first Valentine’s Day together, and even though Ben had sent you flowers and you’d had a long and eventful video chat, part of you felt like you were missing out. You’d spent much of the early part of your relationship hiding it from those around you, and though you had those three precious weeks to be unashamedly in love, you now felt bitterly as though you would miss the best part of the honeymoon phase.

“So tell me about your day, love.”

You related all the gossip that the day had brought, jokes shared with your colleagues, how someone had to go running off through the highlands chasing a false beard that had been torn off by the wind. He laughed in all the right places and asked all the right questions. He, in turn, told you that he’d gone to the gym (which he’d been doing more often since you’d been gone), and met with a director for lunch to talk over a possible job. He was excited about it: you could see how much he wanted it, despite trying to convince you (as much as himself) that it was early days and he wasn’t getting his hopes up. He remarked how’d he’d sneezed five times in a row which he was sure was some kind of record — you laughed but noticed how he looked a little paler than usual and how he kept sniffing, and predicted that he was about to get a cold.

You accepted the call to receive an image of Ben wrapped in a duvet cocoon with a steaming mug in hand and tissues strewn about the place.

“How’re you doing, darling?” you cooed.

“I’m sick.” His nose, red and sore, was clearly blocked. He was pale and clammy, and his hair, damp with sweat, hung limply over his forehead.

“Mm, I can see that.”

“See? I told you I couldn’t cope without you!” he whined.

“It’s just a cold, Benny, you’ll live. Just drink lots of fluids and get plenty of sleep, okay?”

He frowned, looking remarkably like a toddler who’d just been denied an ice cream, “I was looking for sympathy, not instructions.”

You laughed and soothed him as best you could. As much as you opted for the ‘tough love’ approach, you wished you could be there to make him cups of hot water with honey and lemon, and bring him a new box of tissues when he finished the last one, and cuddle on the sofa with him watching old Disney movies. You wanted to stroke his hair and tuck him into bed.

Apparently he wanted the same because after chatting for a little while, when his eyelids started to droop and his head got heavy, he quietly asked, “Will you sing for me?”

“Sing? What do you want me to sing for?”

He shrugged, an embarrassed smile lacing his lips, “I’ve missed it. You sing all the time when you’re here, the place feels empty without it. I’ve been playing music a lot but it’s not the same.”

You chuckled, and went quiet. You allowed the silence to seep into your soul, to expand inside you and push all the noise for your mind. In its place a melody began softly and it danced off your lips.

‘Looking out on the morning rain, I used to feel uninspired,

And when I knew I’d have to face another day, Lord it made me feel so tired.

Before the day I met you, life was so unkind.

Your love was the key to my peace of mind.’

The tiredness abated from Ben’s face, instantly soothed. Frown lines evaporated and his skin was left velvety smooth. His eyes fluttered closed, calmed. Even in the slightly pixellated image of him on your computer screen you could see how he ached for you, and how your voice helped to soothe that pain.

‘When my soul was in the lost-and-found, you came along to claim it.

I didn't know just what was wrong with me till your kiss helped me name it.

Now I'm no longer doubtful of what I'm living for,

’Cause if I make you happy I don't need to do more.’

It seemed the more Ben was dulcified, the more your own agony grew. The softness of him was intoxicating, and it exposed how much he needed you. Guilt flared in you at not being there to look after him, and your own selfish desire to be near him added a sharp longing to your cocktail of grief.

‘Oh, baby, what you've done to me,

You make me feel so good inside.

And I just want to be close to you,

You make me feel so alive.’

His head got heavy, his shoulders relaxed as he leaned back on the sofa, and slowly you saw sleep settling weightily over his features. You indulged yourself by watching him for a few moments, chest rising and falling steadily as he began to snore, but soon the pang in your chest became too intense to bear. You whispered, “I love you,” into the boundless space between you before ending the call and quickly opening a new window on your laptop.

———

Ben had been feeling particularly sorry for himself. He never coped very well when he was ill (being a frequent sufferer of man flu), but this was worse than usual. For starters, he didn’t get sick very often anymore so when he did it felt all the worse, and he hadn’t been this unwell in a while, and to top it all off, Y/N wasn’t there to look after him. Every morning he’d wake up in an empty bed, hardly able to breathe and feeling like his whole face had been plugged up. He’d drag himself to the kitchen, cocooned in his duvet, get himself some hot water and a piece of toast because that was all he could bring himself to make, before collapsing on the sofa, drifting in and out of sleep, some crappy movie on in the background, and ordering food when he couldn’t be bothered to get it himself. He was pretty sure that you would have been horrified had you seen the state of him — he didn’t like to look in the mirror because it frightened him how much he looked like a ghost of himself — but really he just wanted you there to look after him. He kept finding himself daydreaming about you, whispering soothing words to him as he slept, holding him close against your body. Sometimes he got so lost in his imagination that he could almost feel the touch of you, and for a moment convinced himself that you were there, that you would sit down next to him any second with two cups of tea and some sassy remark. To be honest, he had been like that most of the time you’d been away; he had felt the void of you more acutely than he had anticipated. But this constant state of semi-waking delirium had amplified it. So when he heard a knock at the door, thinking that he must have ordered take-away and forgotten but opened it to find you there with an armful of groceries and a grin, he assumed he was dreaming.

He sighed melancholically, “Y/N.”

“Oh Benny, are you okay?”

Your tone didn’t seem right. You never sounded worried in his imagination, only gentle and calm. His heart started to beat faster.

In a voice that sounded far away, like he was underwater, he heard you say, “Darling, let’s get you into bed. You don’t look good.”

“Wait, you’re really here?”

“Of course I’m here,” you said, ushering yourself inside and laying your things down before placing your palm against his forehead. He closed his eyes, falling gratefully into your touch. Your hand felt cool against his burning skin, and he almost collapsed with relief to have you beside him again. He could see you were worried, your movements suddenly infected with a slightly frenetic urgency, but all he felt was elation. He let you shepherd him into bed without resistance, and drank eagerly from the glass of chilled water you placed in his hands.

You tucked him under the covers, and knelt beside the bed, stroking your fingers with the most delicate touch over his cheek. It made him shiver. His eyelids slipped closed and he felt the heaviness of the past few days evaporate into weightlessness. In those few hazy moments before sleep overtook him, still sceptical of the veracity of his own senses, he mumbled, “Will you still be here when I wake up?”

You smiled tenderly, “Of course I will, love. I’m going to look after you,”

You knew Ben was pretty unwell but hadn’t anticipated quite the extent of it. He seemed to be delirious, and the glassy look in his eyes made you wonder if he ever knew you were there. He was burning up when you tested his temperature, so you got him some water and sent him to bed. It broke your heart a little to shut him off in the bedroom as soon as you had reunited with him after missing him so deeply, but it broke your heart more to see him so sick, reduced to a shadow of himself. You kept yourself busy while he slept, walking Frankie, cleaning the apartment which had unsurprisingly fallen into a state of neglect, and getting a stew on to be ready by the time he woke. Your mind wandered back to him often, the thought of him curled up under the covers like a child. It took all your strength not to climb in next to him and cuddle him until he felt better. But you knew that would do nothing for his fever.

He woke up a few hours later and trudged back into the kitchen where you were sat quietly entertaining yourself on your phone. He’d thrown a hoodie on, pulled up over his head with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Hi gorgeous,” you beamed, standing to meet him. He looked better already; his eyes were less puffy and some of the colour was returning to his face.

“Hey,” he said hoarsely, “I wasn’t sure you’d be here when I woke up. I thought I’d dreamt you.”

You opened your arms and he shuffled gratefully into them, letting his head fall against your shoulder. He exhaled, relaxed, while your fingertips trailed gently across the back of his neck.

“I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere until you’re better.”

He pulled back to meet your eyes, searching them for the truth, “Really? Won’t you have to go back soon?”

“They’ll just have to cope without me, because clearly you can’t.”

He shook his head before burying it in your neck again.

“Come on, I’ve made dinner.”

Ben ate hungrily, glad of a proper, hearty meal. You sat at the table for hours, surreptitiously filling up Ben’s glass to make sure he was drinking plenty of water, revelling in being in each other’s company again. It was bittersweet. Despite your assurance that you’d stay as long as he needed, you both knew that come Monday — Tuesday at the latest — you’d have to head back to Scotland. But for the moment you talked and laughed, and nursed Ben back to health. You decided to go back to your own apartment overnight to make sure Ben got a good night’s rest, as well as reduce the risk of you getting his cold. He made you promise him that you’d come back first thing in the morning, which of course you readily did. And when you did return, already making breakfast by the time Ben surfaced, he was looking healthier still.

“‘Morning cherub,” you cooed. “How’re you feeling today?”

“All the better for seeing you,” he smiled and hugged you from behind. You kissed his cheek and he detached himself, allowing you to hand him a hot mug of honey and lemon.

By the end of the weekend Ben was almost completely better. He had even managed to go out for a walk with you and Frankie. He could speak properly again, without his ‘m’s turning into ‘b’s, and his spirits where infinitely raised — until he saw your packed bag, ready to go again, as you sat side-by-side on the sofa.

“When’s your flight?” he sighed, disconsolate.

“First thing in the morning, taxi’s picking me up at 6.”

His shoulders slumped. “You can’t go yet, I’m still sick,” and he coughed lamely, pouting like a toddler.

“Considering you’re a professional actor, that was thoroughly unconvincing,” you deadpanned and swiped your thumb over his cheek. “I’ll come visit again soon.”

“I don’t want you to come visit,” he lamented, leaning into your hand, “I want you to come home.”

“What do you mean, love?” you faltered, frowning.

He sidled closer to you, resting a hand on your knee. He was quiet, eyes fixed on your lap, but when he looked up he was absolutely focused, intent.

“Move in with me.” It wasn’t a question.

You were overwhelmed with green. All you could see was his eyes and the determination in them, their confidence in you. The love and the warmth and the longing made them sparkle.

Your voice was hushed but firm as you replied, “Okay.”

The next thing you knew he was kissing you and your world was revolving. Everything you felt and heard and tasted was him and that was all you wanted for the rest of your life.

taglist: @anikatcmh @queen-turtle-boiii @orchideax @rogerspoison @my5secondsofneverland @mrsmazzello @ixchel-9275 @radiob-l-a-hblah @devin-marie @rogmeddows @mercurycrowley @spaghetittiesbcimgay @valeriecarolinaw @saint-hardy @caborhapch @stephanie-everlasting @coldmuffinpartycloud @drowse13 @shhhs3cret @blind-melon-taylor @ohsososophisticatedd @malfoybaby @littlepanda-love @leezie @shesakillerquueennn @borhapgrande @stfxlou @vangogh-groupie @dep-thx @hardzzellos @imjustboredso (just ask if you want to be added to the tag list! sorry if tumblr won’t let me tag you)

#kind of magic series #ben hardy #ben hardy x female reader #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy fluff #bohemian rhapsody #6 underground #queen #benjamin jones

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