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chrollohearttags · 1 year

Note

no because why was I listening to futures song called rich sex and thought maybe I could request you to make a sex scene for the influencer wife x rapper Eren cause it just…goes so well with the song , cause like…imagine Eren was on tour right? And y/n is with him too , don’t you think it’ll be a GOOD ASS SMUT if they fuck WHILEEEE on tour? And then Eren is dressed up all in his expensive jewelry such as y/n and then he decides to fuck y/n for a lil adrenaline rush to hype him up before he gets on stage. So don’t you think that would be A GOOD ASS SMUT cause I think so too.

Oh. My. Goddddd!! This is perfect likeee, your mind. I’m biting my fist so hard thinking about this. 😩 say less, I got you bby!

(btw, I hope y’all ain’t sick of this storyline yet cause it’s fr my fucking fave and the only thing I’ll be talking about for the next week!)

“Baby, let's go have rich sex”

themes: riding, 69, choking, mentions of drinking and smoking, exhibitionism (if you squint), mirror sex, collapsed back shots, they just be fucking nasty fr so anything goes

── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.─── ── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.──

another day, another dollar as the saying goes but it was another night, another city down in the instance of the international recording artist…going from state to state, pouring his heart out on the stage in the form of his wonderful music. Although it had been some time, he still had it like he never left and the proof was in the form of not only his massive ticket sales but all of the tweets and tagged pictures, praising the rapper for his performance and love of his fans.

now, he was on his tour bus..headed to the next location on the docket of his North American leg. Surrounded by his crew, band and of course, the love of his life, (y/n) (l/n); having not too long ago celebrated the joyous occasion with those he cherished most as they all raised champagne glasses for a toast to Eren.

now the musician could be found in the luxurious master bedroom of the bus..lying atop the California King, shrouded in blue silk Versace bed linen, which was discreetly embroidered with the designer logo and his initials on the other side. A black robe from the same maker swaddling his freshly showered body..

mindless background noise could be heard playing from a fifty inch flatscreen mounted on the wall. Currently, he was blowing clouds of smoke into the air from the spliff placed between his lips..using it to ironically come down from the high of the evening. It was always his ritual of sorts to decompress after being on stage. A time of quiet reflection except now…

“You mind if I join you?..”

he had much to look forward to afterwards. That sweet, sexy voice he’d never grow tired of hearing, perking him straight up from his position. He’d be greeted by the pleasant surprise of his beloved bride-to-be, taking off your robe and standing at the foot of the bed in all white lace lingerie..contrasting that almost ethereal umber complexion. Like the smoothest Godiva and his biggest weakness, among other things..

those pretty ass titties sitting up perfectly in that bralette and cascading down your back were the forty inches of Brazilian bundles; black with honey blonde highlights at the very front. Those baby hairs styled and laid to perfection.

you truly were a goddess in the flesh.

“..and I was just wondering where your pretty ass was..c’mere, baby.”

the sentence followed by a wave of his finger, signaling you to climb on top of him. And with that deep, drowsy..sexy voice, you wouldn’t waste another second doing so. Immediately gliding a hand up his chiseled, tattooed chest and targeting his neck with gentle kisses;

flicking around his ear and hitting those giant studs in them. Your soft lips slightly brushing the diamonds of the customized ‘EJ’ chain, courtesy of famed jeweler Johnny Dang. A piece he acquired after the success of his very first album..a good luck charm of sorts, worth over ten bands..

but the collection didn’t stop there. A Patek scattered with VVS’ that could pay someone’s car note, grazed your bare ass as he gripped it with both hands amidst your make-out session.

(Y/N) slowly grounded on his lap to drum up the impending hard on that quickly formed at the sight of you. How could it not when his baby was adorned in matching pieces that glowed like fluorescents under the ceiling’s lavender lighting? The Cuban Link encrusted with pink diamonds and your name plate, a Rollie with the same color scheme and a glistening choker and anklet with his name on it.

all reminders of his rampant success and the fact that you were all his..taking pride in the fact that he could afford to not only splurge on himself but ice his girl out as well. One look around that bus and anyone could see how much he loved the lavish life..even if he didn’t flaunt it for the world to see.

“Y’know, I’m so proud of you, baby..I swear I’ll never get tired of hearing you perform.” the muffled words uttered in a sultry tone and one that made him feel better than any comment could. You really were his number one supporter and now, you wanted to give him a reward that no one else had to offer. Staring at his beloved with those gleaming green eyes that you loved so much, he’d crack a faint smile. “Yeah? I did a good job, huh mama?” that nickname always sending chills and tingles to unseen places…

honestly, being the perfectionist he was, he’d had doubts. There was no way he’d be able top his last performance or draw out another crowd like that. But you were going to remind him every time that he still was every bit of the star they said he was. And that was all the validation he needed.

you’d continue touching and licking all over him, trying to render that pretty physique of his completely nude. “…mmmm, yes and you looked sooo fucking good on that stage tonight..couldn’t wait to come fuck on you..”

admitting bluntly with your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck, suckling on his skin and surely leaving a hickey or two. Meanwhile, you’d rub the thin seat of those panties against his erection, that was growing larger. The tiny wet spot forming as a result of the friction…which made him claw at the sheets. There was no way he’d ever survive this tour without you here! Months on the road without his girl?

FaceTime would’ve never sufficed but truthfully, you were turned on the second you saw him up on that stage..so confidently spitting his lyrics, commanding the crowd and talking his shit. What really done you in was the final song when he became shirtless;

black cargos hugging his waist and faintly exposing the waistband of his boxers..chains shining and sweat glistening from his ripped muscles as he was performing one of his more risqué joints. Looking direct at you when he rapped about fucking like he wanted to give you his child. Of course, his horny fangirls would probably disagree and say the message was meant for them..hence why they all began grabbing at his crotch.

“Yeah? ‘Cause I been needing some of that pussy too..”

..but rest assured, you were the only thing on his mind. That much confirmed by the way he was sucking his teeth and moaning. Pawing at your g-string to peel it back and expose your dripping center. Once that cool air hit your warmth, his cock was next; allowing you to tease yourself against his shaft as he opened up that bathrobe. So helplessly grinding and whimpering with his tip grazing your clit..leaning up momentarily only to align with your entrance..gliding down on it until you both heard the slight pop of it being inside. Almost immediately, Eren tossed his head back and moaned at the sensation of your tight grip.

“Oh fuck..” meanwhile, you were getting into position; planting both feet on the bed and a hand across his chest. Something about staring down to see him with that chain on as you bounced on that dick just made you wetter. And he knew you loved fucking him with that jewelry on so he wouldn’t dare remove it..neither of you could sit idle though so once you gathered your bearings, (y/n) began moving, slowly propelling yourself up and down on it just to get a feel.

the visible tightness of your insides gripping him with each one..it was because of that, this man would buy you the whole world if you asked. That pussy was worth billions as far as he was concerned! So once you started to add a little rhythm and speed to your riding, he’d glare up at you in amazement. Smacking noises erupting as you had already slathered him down in your slick from that previous teasing.. “..yeah, just like that, baby…’fucking me so good.”

it’d be a miracle if you didn’t wake the rest of the passengers on board with his loud moaning but you weren’t too far behind as that tip reached your spot. It never took much from this angle. “Just lay back, daddy..and let me do the work. You deserve it…” nothing made him feel better. Having this bad bitch fuck his brains out..a little buzzed from the alcohol and weed he consumer earlier, it was bliss.

“Mmm..thank you, baby. Oh my God..you feel so good right now..”

but you were struggling a bit, trying to gain your pace because no matter how many times the two of you made love, his massive size was still your weakness. But you took that shit every time like you owned it! Eventually, (y/n) was full blown fucking him..balancing perfectly on those tip toes and bouncing.

even deciding to throw a few tricks into the mix with that big voluptuous ass, twerking and dancing on that dick whilst you grabbed at his chain as a leash of sorts. That’s when you felt him pulsate inside of you and felt the sudden clutch of his heavy hand on your backside, followed by encouraging slaps to your cheeks. “yeah..let me know how good that pussy feels..how much you love when I ride this dick..” without a doubt, he was your bitch at the moment! Eyes stretched wide and mouth agape with loud moans as you clamped around that shaft once again.

a sheet of slimy, sticky arousal being the only barrier between your clashing flesh. It made no goddamn sense how messy you got.

“I fucking love that shit, mama…about to make me come in that pussy..she so wet f’r me too…fuuuck!” sounding so hot and helpless with those high pitched cries. You loved when he became submissive like this.

he was exhausted after moving around on stage for two hours and not too long ago, he was drained but right now, it was taking everything in him not to fuck up into you..but he knew you could handle it and soon, it would pay off. Continuing to ride until you felt your legs begin to weaken, you’d eventually lie flat against his torso and slam that round ass entirely on him; burying that cock until it hit your core. From there, you two met in a sloppy, passionate kiss..exchanging strings of saliva and sexy whimpers.

your mouth eventually meeting his ear, only to fill it with sweet cries. “I’m ‘bout to come, daddy! Fuck..I c-ca—“ your sentence coming to an abrupt halt as you felt a ping in your tummy and suddenly, couldn’t go another second. Your wobbly legs shot straight up as you reached your climax first. Which he wasn’t too mad at, considering the fact that he always wanted you to get that nut first and also, you were flooding him and his sheets with squirt.

not to mention, it gave him just the opening he needed to take control for this next position. “Nah, don’t run. Sit on this fucking face.” With a grin on his features, Eren reached over and clutched behind your thighs, bringing you down to his face to let some remnants fall into his open mouth. He loved your taste..drinking it in like it was the finest FiJi. His freakiness knew no bounds and you loved it.

“Mmmm, baby! Fuck!” (y/n) crying out as he slurped your juices and that swollen clit. You’d look back to see his manhood still standing at attention and twitching on its lonesome as he tongue fucked your pussy. But you didn’t have to miss out on the fun either as he instructed you to flip around so that you were locked into a sixty nine position. He hadn’t come yet so he wanted make sure to fill your pretty little throat with all that nut instead..

he was already enjoying his feast, flicking his tongue between your folds and even your asscrack when you managed to get acclimated with you began suctioning those plump lips around his shaft. Sucking him off and tasting yourself in the process..soon, your bodies were like a well oiled machine; working in tandem to give each other oral pleasure..the only thing heard from either end were soft whimpers and loud slurping.

putting his dick seven inches down your throat until you coaxed out spit bubbles to further lube him up with before jerking him off for a minute. The cold steel of your chain gently brushing past his balls which caused him to thrust up into your throat. He had a knack of not playing fair when it came to you sucking his dick. He always wanted to test your limits and see how far that cock could fit, even sometimes touching your uvula when he done so. He couldn’t help himself when you were so skilled at giving head..even jokingly saving you in his phone as throat goat.

the way you didn’t care how messy it got, if you fucked up your makeup or even choked, you’d eventually end up swallowing his nut in some form or fashion. And right now, you were well on your way to doing so. Softly massaging his sack, you’d continue working his member, pumping it to inevitably make him climax. But the more you suckled at his tip, the further he shoved his tongue into your entrance and made you yelp. He’d be getting a second orgasm out of you if he wasn’t careful.

and he wasn’t letting up until that happen. However, he wasn’t too far behind and in one swift move, (y/n) spat those strings of precum and saliva back down on to his length and cleaned it all up with one big suction motion that nearly took him off the bed.

“F-fuck!” drumming those cries out of his mouth as you did the same to his cock..milking that warm, white fluid from his balls to the back of your throat. Almost like clockwork, you too released yet again, all over his tongue. He’d lap it all up with no hesitation also..

“You’re so fucking nasty…God, I love you..”

Eren choked out from the back of his throat, head tossed against the silk lined pillow case. You’d look down to see his toes curling and legs trembling..a job well done if you could say so yourself. But the two of you weren’t finished by a long shot. He needed to be inside of you..and this time, he wanted you both to watch! Finally coming to, he’d smack your ass a couple times to get your attention and move you once more.

placing you at the edge of the bed, he’d command you on all fours and to face the giant mirror in front of it. Your nude, sweat slicked bodies on full display in the reflection…it was something so sexy about it. Planted firmly in the mattress on your hands and knees, you’d stare straight ahead, winding those hips in a fluid motion and slowly making that round ass jiggle. The curve could be seen as you folded your arms and pressed your perky titties further into the mattress; making that back arch as far as it could go.

it was that type of thickness men made full songs about. That had the whole industry hating on this man for no reason..other than the fact he was the one lucky enough to beat your back in every night. But you doubted there was anyone else who could ever put that dick on you the way he did! And he was about to prove why.

“Look back at me when you do that shit, mama..” twisting your head around, you’d give him a doe eyes expression with those big brown orbs, subtly tossing it against his pelvis as he bucked up against your ass; smacking on it for encouragement. “..so goddamn fine, I swear..”

flicking your tongue over your lips, you’d continue throwing it on him until you felt him clutch your waist, resting that wristwatch on the cute dimples in the small of your back. Around your hips hung a bejeweled belly chain, and he was about to use it to his advantage. Now, he had tugged your face forward again, making you watch as prepared to give you that pipe for the second time..it was his turn to be in control so you knew he was about to go crazy…

gently tapping that head against your sticky center, he’d make you draw a few light huffs, mainly out of frustration. That little hole was spasming on air and asking to be filled so you couldn’t take anymore of the teasing. “Mmphmm…quit playinggg. Give me that dick.” It was so adorable how antsy you got that quickly. Because you looked so precious when begging, he wouldn’t hold out any longer.

“Alright, alright…I won’t. You know what to do, open that shit up then.”

immediately, you’d place your palms to your round cheeks and spread them apart. Your diamond tennis bracelet and long acrylics laying on your smooth skin..like a work of art. Suddenly, you’d see a long trail of saliva trickle from his lips onto his cock head, where he’d massage it in before stuffing it back in your needy cunt. Damn near sucked in by those folds. You obviously needed him pretty bad..

so he’d never keep his princess waiting. His manicured fingers clutched that little accessory to keep you reigned in as he began feeding you deep strokes to the center of your core. Not exactly rough yet but damn sure not slow..enough to have you creaming with only a couple in. Meanwhile, you could see him fixated on the motion of your ass, moving with each one. Back shots with you always went fucking dumb..the sound, the collision of skin..it was perfect.

“Feels good, huh baby?” Taunting in a soft moan as you’d look up and see him chewing at his lip, trying to concentrate on his rhythm. You didn’t have to worry about him because he’d be handling it soon enough. Chuckling, he’d just smack your bottom again and speed up. “You just bouncing that shit on me…don’t stop, baby.”

and you’d gladly obey, letting him tug you back as he impaled you on his shaft..fitting it past the hilt, shoving it in and then all the way back out. Soon, he was rocking you back and forth with complete dominion over your body. You’d fuck him back, meeting those thrusts for as long as you could until you found yourself trembling and he took control again. No need to stress though because he was more than capable of fucking you just fine on his own.

“..tapping out on me already, princess? I’m not even close yet.” Now it was his turn to tease you and with one hand still on your ass; thumb pressed into your puckering asshole, the other reaching for that long hair; not giving a fuck if he messed it up because he’d pay to get it redone, he’d pound your little pussy like he was trying to make good on his promise during the concert. That platinum chain slamming his chest and the few untamed brunette locks scattering around that handsome face, he’d tap into another speed and keep going for you.

the glistening diamonds of all your collective jewelry practically glowing underneath the now dimmer fluorescent lighting…such a pleasing aesthetic and fuel to keep going. At this point, he had you clawing at the bed sheets, trying to keep your head up but drool was seeping from between those pretty lips and your eyes were rolling to the back of your head..he was beating your shit up so bad, you could feel it touching the inner corner of your cervix. It was unfathomable how big that shit was and how well he wielded it. That’s why you’d gladly display his name on you.

“Hhngh! Daddy, fuck! Yes—oh my gosh! I can feel it…’s so deep..” Tears beginning to swell and fall from your eyes at this point because you couldn’t take it. His palm slowly circulated your throat, applying slight pressure to asphyxiate your breathing and give you even more stimulation. Undeniably, he was the best dick you had ever had and to think, you’d be getting it in every city and for the rest of your life. But that was perfect because he’d train that pretty little cunt to only conform to his shape. So much so, you’d never want to leave…

“I know, baby…but you taking that dick so good for me. I don’t wanna stop.” And that much was apparent when he slowed only for a second because you were frozen before clamping down and releasing a stream of squirting juices. It happened so fast, that you couldn’t even time your orgasm.. “ahhh, shittt! Mmmphm!” full blown fucked to tears as you rubbed it out onto his jumping member, which made him so proud; even slapping it against your slit to drum more out. Until you finished and collapsed on your stomach.

“You look so pretty when you come…I love it.”

but the fun wasn’t over quite yet! Keeping his palm planted to the center of your back, Eren held you down and continued drilling into you..rutting his hips into your cheeks and shoving his cock as far as he could go. “It’s alright, mama. You did so good..but let me handle the rest. I got it..lemme take care of you.” his voice completely soothing and comforting as he massaged your back. To be so delicate after making you nut for a third time was nothing less than to be expected of your man.

however, he’d be joining you shortly and you’d both be on that climatic cloud together. His voice began to crack and you’d hear his breathing become faster..he was definitely reaching his peak and before long, those thrusts slowed drastically and only came in shape jolts, signaling how close he was. That grip was a little too much now and with his shaft swollen inside of you, he’d have no choice but to stay in it. “Ha!-f-fuck!..I’m ‘bout to come, baby..”

and with those final words from his beloved (y/n)..

“Come in me..nut in this pussy, daddy. I want it..”

he’d fulfill your request by dumping every drop and inkling of his warm seed into your womb. Pinning you to the mattress before collapsing over onto your entire frame. Whining so helplessly, that it was so attractive. Being the one to witness his most vulnerable moments was so amazing, especially when you were responsible.

lying there in complete shock, you were pretty sure everyone on that bus had probably heard the two of you creating a chorus of chaotic love making. But none of it matter. In that room, it was like an entirely different planet where only you both existed and you didn’t want to come back down anytime soon..

brushing your hair off the nape of your neck, he’d place a couple soft kisses on it and your spine before bringing your face back around to let your lips crash together again. The slow kisses after fucking like animals was always the best.

“I love you..” “I love you more..” the words exchanged through pressed lips but you both meant it clear as day. For a minute, he’d just gently caress your back to soothe you. Watching you cry, even if from pleasure didn’t sit right with him! “How you feel? Are you okay?” Whispering against your ear as he gently pecked it. All you could do was giggle because after that, you had no complaints. “Much better now..you?”

and of course, it was no question: “Let’s just say I feel like I can go do a hundred shows now.” Making both of you break into laughter. It seems that your motivation was doing wonders for him.

but first, a little bit of actual sleep wouldn’t hurt! One thing was for sure though..cars, jewelry and bags aside, what you done to and for him and the love you gave was completely priceless. Something not even money could buy.

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blues824 · 1 year

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May I request The leech twins, Azul, Riddle and Malleus with GN! reader who likes to watch true crime documentaries

Like the reader probably invites them to watch it too

I am a dedicated true crime junkie, you feel me? I was excited when I got this request. Y’all gonna learn about some of my favorite criminal stories (warning) today.

Other Warnings: Cases of SA, poisoning, killing, necrophilia

Riddle Rosehearts

It was one time where he caught you wearing your headphones and watching something on your phone around Heartslabyul. It wasn’t against the rules or anything, he was just curious as to what his beloved rose was watching. He asked you about it, and you said it was an episode about Giulia Tofana.

You told him about how she sold cosmetic products called Aqua Tofana that would contain belladonna, arsenic, and lead; all common cosmetic products at the time. Riddle was absolutely shocked that you would enjoy watching something as gruesome as that.

This caused you to disconnect your headphones so that he could watch alongside you. He learned about how Tofana admitted to the Roman authorities that she killed about 600 men with her poison, and some of her customers were tried as well. He honestly could not continue, as he was going to throw up at any given moment.

Azul Ashengrotto

You came into the Lounge while watching something on your phone, and the cecaelia was curious as to what it was that got your attention. He asked, and you told him that it was a true crime documentary that you had gotten into. Mans was shocked, considering you didn’t seem like the type of person to watch that sort of thing.

The episode you were currently watching was one about Baba Anujka. You went to his office, where you disconnected your headphones and played it for the two of you to watch. He was shocked that she murdered about 150 men, and even more shocked to find out that she gave poison to the wives of said men so that they could be the ones to kill their husbands.

Mans was not able to sleep at night because all he could think about was that one episode of the true crime documentary. How could you just casually watch something like that and not even bat an eye towards it. Now he knows that you probably know how to hide a body… best to stay on your good side.

Jade Leech

You went to his dorm to help him move his mushrooms to the greenhouse when he saw that you had headphones on and you were previously watching something. As you put your phone away, he asked what you were watching before, and you told him that it was a true crime documentary about the Ken and Barbie Killers.

When he asked, you gave the basic rundown. Paul Bernardo was a sadistic man, and Karla Homolka encouraged his behavior which led to him being charged with 13 r@pes and around 2 murders, though it was suspected that he killed more. Jade was surprised that you were into true crime, but to each their own.

He asked if he could watch it with you before you dropped off the mushrooms, so you both finished the episode. He was honestly kind of glad that you were here in this world rather than back in your world because there weren’t too many criminals in any of the different kingdoms. He did find it quite interesting, though. He might have to watch the documentary for himself.

Floyd Leech

You were sitting on the bench at the courtyard, watching the documentary, when your beloved eel came running up to you and picked you up in a tight squeeze. He sat down on the bench and placed you on his lap as he looked at your phone, asking you what you were watching. You told him about the true crime documentary, and about how the current episode you were on was about Ted Bundy.

He didn’t know who he was, so you told him that he was a man who often preyed on young women, often deceiving them by wearing a sling or cast to get their sympathy. He would then hit the women over the head or knock them out some other way and murder them… which was typically when he would have his way with the bodies. Floyd was totally shocked, but definitely intrigued. So, he got himself comfy and asked if he could watch it with you. You handed him and earbud and you both watched it on the bench,

Once the episode had finished, the Leech twin was so angry that the police never really looked into him as a suspect because he didn’t fit the stereotype (me too, buddy). Not just that, but he constantly escaped prison. He squeezed you tightly at the thought of you having to live in a world where you had to worry about people like that guy.

Malleus Draconia

You were waiting for him for your walk that night, and he saw you watching something on your phone. He asked what you were watching and you told him that it was a true crime documentary that you thought was interesting. The current episode you were on was about John Wayne Gacy.

You had to tell him the entire story, though. So, you patted the spot next to you and told the very long tale of the birthday-clown-turned-serial-killer. You explained how he assaulted young boys and killed them, and how in the end he was convicted of 33 murders.

The dragon prince was definitely shocked that you could watch something like that so casually, but to be fair he often had to see criminals like that as the Crowned Prince of Briar Valley. He was actually kind of glad that you could withstand something like this, since you would be seeing it in-person if you became his spouse.

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ghoulnextdoor · 4 months

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Full Circle Lady Vampire – Unquiet Things

In September of 2017, I posted a fancy lady vampire painting to my various social medias. opining that surely my friends had it in their hearts to pool their resources and purchase it for me to hang in my boudoir for all eternity, to the tune of a cool 14K. As it happened, no one loved me enough for that! Regardless, I never forgot her lovely, spoiled little face, and I continued the tradition of posting the painting every now and again over the ensuing years. I loved her so much that I wanted to include her in The Art of Darkness, but alas, Richard Bober, the artist, never answered even one of my approximate 90 billion emails. it was not to be.

Sometime in the year 2021, Handsome Devils Puppets and I started plotting and scheming on the idea of coaxing her off the canvas and transferring her soul into the floopy-limbed, fabulously attired vessel of a custom marionette, as a sister puppet for Sei Shōnagon and Maria Germaova.

The project began in earnest in June of 2023, a month after I had written a blog post that blew up everywhere and got a lot of attention, inquiring about the mysteriously unknown artist of an iconic book cover for a certain edition of a much-beloved book. I was privy to a lot of speculation and chatted quite frequently with the podcaster who was eventually to report on it; I’d pass along more guesses and suggestions that I was receiving from blog commenters and emails, and she’d share industry tidbits and whispers that she was amassing in her detective work. A name eventually emerged that one or two people seemed quite certain about, and though it was a bit of a wild ride getting there–it was eventually revealed that those eagle-eyed individuals were correct. Y’ALL. Richard freaking Bober –the artist responsible for my favorite gorgeous goldilocked vampire mean girl– was the artist who created THAT cover art for Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wrinkle In Time!!

That cover was something I wanted to include in The Art of Fantasy, but I thought, “Why bother? no one knows who the artist is; who would I even ask for permission?” But isn’t it funny that both these pieces of art caught my eye for various reasons, and without even realizing they were the same artist, I was hoping to have them in the pages of separate books?

I later learned through interviews with Richard Bober’s family and nephews that he was a bit of a recluse, and I don’t think he emailed much, so chances are, I was never going to receive a response to my inquiries anyway! And sadly, he died in late 2022, so he never lived to get proper credit for that book cover. From everything I’ve heard, though, I’m not sure he would have even cared!

So in a very roundabout way, this feels like it has come round full circle. Or looped around several times and tangled confusingly because I do tell a rambling story.

Anyway, isn’t she beautiful? She’s totally gonna steal my soul tonight. Worth it.

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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 1 year

Text

video stores, shopping malls, and ren faires

remember that post about getting three whole ideas from listening to my soundtrack playlist? uh..yeah, so here's part 1 of 3!

on AO3: video stores, shopping malls, and ren faires | song for this chapter

Working at one of the last remaining Family Video stores in America has its highs and lows.

High: going days without seeing a customer. Low: no idea when the hammer will fall and you’ll be laid off when this branch closes too. High: usually on shift all day by yourself. Low: you’re usually on shift all day by yourself.

(Un?)luckily for Robin, she found herself inundated with four visitors on her shift today.

The first two arrivals were the newest addition to their trauma bonded group (and subject of her best friend’s affections) Eddie Munson, along with his closest non-inducted friend Gareth Emerson.

She glances up at the two as they enter. “Hey, Gareth…what’s up fucker?” she says to each of them in turn.

“Rude.” Eddie says, mock offended, “We go through hell together and all I get is ‘fucker’.” he shakes his head and tsks, leaning his weight on the counter in front of her.

Robin just shrugs, straightening up to stand instead of being hunched over the counter like a shrimp. “That’s how it goes, Munson. Y’all here to rent something, or just bother me?” she asks, rubbing her elbows where they had been pressed to the linoleum countertop.

“Bother you. It’s not like you were busy anyway.”

She acknowledges that with a nonchalant frown and raise of her brow, and hunches back over her twitter feed.

“What’s gonna be the subject of today’s Munson Rant, Emerson?” she asks in his direction.

“Why’d you ask hi–”

“Steve Harrington, what else?” Gareth shrugs, coming around the counter to sit on the spare stool with her.

“Ah, the tried and true favorite.” She nods in understanding. “Let’s hear it then, Munson, what indiscretion has our beloved mother hen done that you’ve latched onto this time?”

Eddie’s quiet, so she looks up from her screen. He’s gaping at the two of them like a fish, eyes darting between her and Gareth.

“Oh! Sorry,” Robin puts her phone face down on the counter and pillows her face on one hand and gesturing for him to continue with her other “You have my full attention.”

Eddie still doesn’t continue, so she turns to Gareth with a sigh, “Care to start us off, Gare-bear?”

“Gladly. This time it was ‘Does he even know what he’s doing when he looks like that?’--don’t ask me what ‘that’ is, I have no clue,” Robin nods along, leaning on her left arm to turn towards Gareth. “Then: ‘Does he know how attractive and unfair he’s being?’ and ‘I can't let myself get suckered in, Gare.’.”

“Oh, you’d love to get suckered in by Steve Harrington.” Robin rolls her head side to look at an incredulous Eddie, waggling her brows.

“What I want and what is theoretically possible are two very different things, Birdie.”

“He speaks!”

“Shut up, Gareth, you two are the worst. I come to you in confidence about my trials and tribulations and all you do is mock me. Mock me!”

“Trials and tribulations..” Robin shakes her head at him. “Two things you wouldn’t be going through if you just admitted your feelings for him!”

“I don’t have feelings for Steve Harrington!”

“Yes you do!” Gareth and Robin both answer.

“I can’t have feelings for that airhead. (“Hey! Take it easy on that poor sweet Dingus!”) I just can’t okay?”

“‘Can’t’ doesn’t mean ‘Don’t’, Eddie.”

“Semantics won’t get you anywhere in this argument, Gare. I do not have feelings for King Steve.”

Robin clenches her jaw at Steve’s old nickname, but stays quiet.

“Here, let me continue for him,” Gareth also seems pissed, “‘Ooh, I’m eddie and I’ve had the hots for Steve sinc—“

“I can’t do it again!”

Robin and Gareth both look over at Eddie at his outburst

“I can’t fall for another straight guy. I don’t have it in me to keep it going, so I’m trying to reverse psychiatry myself into dropping the feelings, okay?”

“…It’s reverse psychology.”

“Semantics, Gare, I thought we already talked about this.” Eddie waves him off, already pacing and chewing on the end of a lock of his hair absentmindedly (‘Ew’, Robin thinks.).

“Look, we all know he’s hot and perfect (“If you say so.” mumbles Gareth); All those damn freckles and moles that are just begging to be kissed, his stupid perfect face with those kind, dreamy eyes, his gorgeous body and hmm that chest hair…” (“Ew..” Robin says, aloud this time.).

He shakes himself out of the thought and continues on. “He loves those kids like they’re his, puts everyone else first to a fault, he pulled me out of literal hell!” He stops his tirade and turns to face her and his friend behind the counter. “I need you to tell me everything you can that he’s ever done that’s gross, or or shitty, just.. anything, Robin, please. I can’t deal with a crush on another unattainable straight man. I won’t survive it. Especially not if it’s Steve Fucking Harrington.”

Robin is quiet, glancing at Gareth briefly before turning her attention back to Eddie. “Sounds like you’re already in love with him Munson.”

“Don’t curse me with that, there’s no way I’m in love with him.” he starts pacing again.

“Uh, yeah way? Did you not just hear yourself? You just went on for like 10 minutes about all the shit you love about Steve!” Gareth points out.

Eddie stops just to blink at him.

“Also, I’m not about to slander my best friend just to make you less horny for him.” Robin cuts back in.

“Not…slander…just—“

“Sorry man, you gotta face facts. You’re head over heels for him.” Gareth cuts him off.

Eddie’s frown deepens. “Nope, no way, I’m not in love with King Steve—

“Stop calling him that you little—“ Robin explodes at him, but takes a breath and continues. “You know damn well he hates that nickname, especially with all the work he’s done to put that part of him behind him.

“And as much as you want to deny it Munson, you are also his friend—or at least he thinks you are—and his friend wouldn’t go around calling him shit he doesn’t like!” She can’t hold back by the last word and shouts it into the empty store.

The other half of her unexpected visitors arrive then.

Robin takes a calming breath at the sound of the jingle above the door, and turns to face her pseudo nephews. Her beloved Dingus’ first-born son, and his youngest, Dustin Henderson and Will Byers.

“Hey kiddos, whatcha need?” Robin checks in first, making sure there’s nothing actually wrong before stepping into her half annoying older sister, half cool uncle role.

“Nothing,” Dustin shrugs, “Just supposed to meet Steve here so he can give us a ride home.” he gestures over his shoulder towards the arcade.

“In that case, welcome to Family Video! We are doing a two for one rental deal right now, your father is bemoaning his feelings about your mother in the corner,” Eddie sputters nonsense at that implication (“Their father?? What the hell, Buckley?!”) but she ignores him and barrels on “and no you can’t have any free candy.”

“Aw man.” Dustin says, at the same time Will asks “Eddie has feelings for Steve?”

Robin and Gareth both groan as Eddie goes back into his rant.

“No! …No matter how good of a guy he might be or how hot he is, that’s just a curse I need to learn to live with if I’m going to stick around you goblins and…”

She has an epiphany then; his almost unhinged levels of ranting about how he very much “does not” have feelings for her best friend reminds her of something. So she pulls out her phone and opens YouTube.

“Hold that thought Munson,” she interrupts him mid-soliloquy about Steve’s arms or chest or something, “You three, you’re all theater kids right? Or musically adjacent?” She addresses Dustin, Will, and Gareth.

“What the hell’s happening right now..” Eddie tries.

“Uh yeah?” Dustin says, confusedly looking at the other two for confirmation, who also nod.

“Okay, back me up on this then.”

Robin starts playing the song over the bluetooth speaker she has behind the counter and immediately the four boys catch on, Eddie groaning in frustration and dropping himself face down on the counter.

‘If there’s a prize for rotten judgment, I guess I've already won that.’

“Sounds like Eddie.” Robin states to nods from the other boys, sans Eddie, who responds with a muffled “Fuck. You.”.

‘No man is worth the aggravation,’

“Steve is!” Will yells over the music, Robin pointing at him in emphasis, and catching Eddie’s expression softening already when he turns his head to smile minutely at Baby Byers.

‘That’s ancient history, been there, done that!’ to which Eddie gestures annoyingly towards the speaker, head still on his elbows.

Robin rolls her eyes at him, but starts singing along with the muses; Gareth, Will, and Dustin catch on quickly, adding onto the tune. “Who d'ya think you’re kidding? He’s the earth and heaven to you, try to keep it hidden…”

“C’mon munson, I know you’ve got some pipes on you!” Robin goads good-naturedly at Eddie.

–

Watching his friends (and his children, apparently) tease him and dance around through his bangs wins him over, and Eddie starts singing along with Meg.

“No chance, no way, I won’t say it, no, no..” he waves his arm out with a shake of his head, standing up from the counter to stalk across the floor.

His friends grin manically, Dustin and Will start over-performing the lyrics as they sing along with the muses, Will catching Dustin in a dramatic swoon. “You swoon, you sigh, why deny it? Uh-Oh!”

“It's too cliche! I won't say I'm in love!”

Eddie lets himself get into singing along; well, half singing, half speaking along to the lyrics as he keeps going, especially with the next set of lyrics hitting a little too close to home.

“I thought my heart had learned its lesson, It feels so good when you start out…My head is screaming, ‘get a grip’, UGH!” he grabs hold of his hair at the root in half-mock frustration. “Unless I’m dying to cry my heart out!”

He bellows out lungfuls of frustration along with Meg’s longer notes as his friends poke holes in his already shaky denial of his feelings in time with the muses.

“You keep on denying who you are and how you're feeling, baby, we're not buying. Hon, we saw ya hit the ceiling!”

Okay, singing long and loud aloud like this is starting to help, actually.

“Face it like a grown-up, when ya gonna own up that ya got, got, got it bad?!” He almost loses it when the four of them do exaggerated jazz hands at him.

“No chance, no way, I won't say it, no, no.” He shakes his head again and turns away from them towards the front window.

Of course, because the universe hates him, Steve arrives just then with Max in the passenger seat, in time for the song and his friends to tease him with the perfectly timed line: “..check the grin, you’re in love!”

Damn, he was actually fucking grinning like an idiot just seeing Steve’s car pull into in the parking lot.

He scrubs the grin off his face with his hands, grabbing onto his hair like a crutch and turning his back to the window.

At this point, he’s fully into the performance. “This scene won't play, I won't say I'm in love!”

“You're doing flips, read our lips, you're in love!”

“You're way off base, I won't say it (“He won’t say it, no)!

“Get off my case, I won't say it!” he spins back around…and what a mistake that was.

His (horrible, traitorous) friends continue on as he watches the scene unfolding in front of him: Steve has carefully unfolded Max’s wheelchair, making sure each part is locked into place, before moving to help her stand and take the couple shaky steps to her seat with a kind, patient smile.

“...It's okay, you're in love…”

Oh.

He has to catch himself on the counter in front of him, knees suddenly weak.

Oh.

“At least out loud, I won't say I'm in love…”

–

“Hey guys, what were you singing? It looked like fun!” Steve asks as soon as Max is inside and over the lip of the doorway.

“Uh, nothing, c’mon Gareth, we’ve got that…thing.” Eddie does a vague grabby motion towards Gareth, who’s coming around the front of the counter. “Cool t’see ya, Stevie, catch you later!”

Eddie basically books it out the door, still held open by the handicap button, with Gareth trailing behind at a normal speed.

“Hey Steve, bye Steve.” he says as he strolls past.

Steve watches them go with gooey affection clear on his face, much to the delight of the gathered peanut gallery.

“You’re so mean to him” Max chides, “That shit was playing so loud even you could hear it from the parking lot.”

“You could!? Oh man, poor Eddie.” Dustin says with a gummy smile.

“Why poor Eddie?” he asks, keeping a straight face.

Dustin’s face falls and he and Will blurt “NOTHING.” and “NO REASON.” at the same time.

He lets them sweat for a bit, but Robin’s not-so-subtly-hidden laughter gets the best of him.

“Why are you laughing? Steve do you…do you already know?” Dustin asks, worried.

Steve shrugs, “I've had my suspicions, but I want him to get there himself first before I fully put the moves on him.”

“Put—put the moves?? You like Eddie??”

“No.”

“Steve what the hell, that’s super shit—”

“I've basically been in love with him since my scoops era.”

The silence is somewhat expected, only Robin knows he’s bi officially, but there had to have been some hints or signs that they’ve picked up on right? Steve really hopes this doesn’t turn into losing any of them.

“…In love?” Will’s voice is quiet.

“Scoops era?” Max and Robin ask in unison.

Steve silently breathes a sigh of relief. “Yeah, back before the fire? Dusty, you were there, remember?”

It takes him a second, but sure enough: “Oh shit!!”

Part 2 here!

okay confession, this is fully self-indulgent. all the way down to the fake st gang twitter feed because they always make me die laughin

also, yes, the title is a spoiler for where the other two chapters will be set

hope you enjoyed this brainrot!

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flyingfisharejustbirds · 2 years

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part three of my etho stratos au except today we are looking at jimmy and what he’s been up to through the eyes of a very confused joel.

this is a mix of an actual written story and just headcannon so it’s not gonna be very good.

the first time it happened joel didn’t pay much attention to it. he was picking up hermes from sausage’s empire as he noticed jimmy had landed near by calling out for sausage. joel would’ve loved to toy with the sherif but him and etho had plans to teach hermes to use wings today so he bid sausage goodbye. as he left he saw sausage wrap and arm around jimmy’s waist kissing him. that’s fine sausage can be with whoever he wants even if it was that annoying sheriff.

the second time it happened joel had stoped by chromia for some dyes. he was searching for scott wanting to make a large order for some while he was here. what he did not want however was to see scott pin a very disheveled jimmy against the side of his house, making out with the very much out of breath sheriff. was jimmy with scott too? he decided that he’ll come back for that custom order some other time.

the third time it happened it was after the bloody sheriff had won his lawsuit against him and his toy shop. joel could only watch as fwhip practically launched himself at jimmy hugging his the best he could. the sheriff merely leaned down pressing his lips against the goblins. fwhips face lit up as he jumped excitingly muttering “oh my, oh my, the leaders given me a kiss! the sheriff gave me a kiss.” their attention was soon turned as the judge cleared their throat stating that there was another case to be solved. one about is the beloved sheriff was a toy or not. joel immediately snapped out of his downward spiral of thoughts and started taunting jimmy as the poor sheriff and his deputy ran off.

the fourth and hopefully final time it happened joel had been relaxing while etho constructed his newest redstone farm. his comm had pinged with the distinct sound of a newly whitelisted player joining the world.

*tangotek joined the game*

what? neither of them had heard news of anyone new joining soon. and why tango of all people he doesn’t seem like he would be suited to run an empire without risking it burning down. joel looked up at etho who was just as confused. as quick as the two could they headed over to spawn, only to watch as jimmy threw himself into tango arms. tango looked different; his hair was now a blue color almost looking frozen, his eyes were now blue but still just as warm, even his clothes changed he was now wearing a dark blue almost black cloak, with a royal style suit like thing under it. jimmy didn’t seem to care placing kisses all over the new players face as sausage, fwhip, and scott arrived quickly surrounding the two seemingly just as excited as jimmy about tango arrival. WHAT THE FUCK WAS GOING ON?! just as he was about to head down and start demanding answers etho placed a hand on his arm shaking his head. “just let them be for a while we can just ask sausage when we pick up hermes again.” joel sighed before nodding following etho back to stratos.

wooo i’m done this is not beta read at all because i don’t want to. hope y’all had fun with this i’ll get back to boat boys next time i just thought this would be fun to write. any way bye bye!

#smallishbeans #empires joel #empires smp #scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #solidaritek #solidaritygaming #mythical sausage #goblin fwhip #fwhimmy #tangotek #the ranchers #empiresshipping #one of many brain rot

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twilightmalachite · 11 months

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Love Letter - Mirror mirror 4

Author: Umeda Chitose

Characters: Yuuta, Niki, Rinne

Translator: Mika Enstars

Proofer: Kirin

"Ah well, I hope y’all will be able to make up soon! It’d be bad news if the fight gets so bad a kitchen knife gets pulled! ♪"

Season: Winter

Location: Staff Dining Hall

Yuuta: Sigh~…

(What am I doing…! All I did was take my anger out on him!)

(If I wanted to hear Aniki’s opinion, I should’ve just asked him to be more honest!)

(But I couldn’t do that because Aniki started acting strange and kept surrendering… Why does this keep happening?!)

(Even though I wanted us to put the days of infighting amongst ourselves behind us and move forward with Hinata-kun someday…)

(We’re just not meshing at all. Us being incompatible isn’t anything new, but…)

(Even then, we were at least able to be “two-in-one”… Until recently that is. As I thought, the reason we’re like this now really is my—…)

Niki: Sorry to have kept ya waiting, dear customer~… Oh, hm?

I was wonderin’ who on god’s green earth was it that ordered all these spicy dishes! So it was Yuuta-kun!

Yuuta: Shiina-senpai.

Niki: Alright, here’s your dandan noodles with green pepper salad, and meat-stuffed habanero peppers~! Feel free to use our cayenne pepper and tabasco.

Yuuta: Thank you, I appreciate it. ♪

Niki: Oh! I should prolly refill your water while I’m at it, just a sec…

Yuuta: Ah, I’m sorry for the trouble.

Niki: Dontcha worry. It’s my job! ♪

…Though, I know ya like spicy food and all, Yuuta-kun…

I expect eatin’ this much to definitely affect your body, so I’m a tad worried. Is somethin’ going on, or…?

Yuuta: Ummm… Just some stuff with Aniki, over our unit plans…

Niki: Woah, so even the 2wink duo has those kinds of disagreements, huh?

Yuuta: Is it really that unexpected of us to get into arguments?

Niki: Nah, I mean, I remember y’all had a fight last summer. It’s just surprising that you guys fight as a unit too, as opposed to as individuals.

Whenever I chat with Hinata-kun back in our room, he’s always goin’ on about the jobs he’s gettin’~ and all that stuff. So I’d gotten the idea that everythin’ goes relatively well in your unit.

Yuuta: …Well, thankfully we are receiving quite a bit of work.

Niki: Ain’t that right? That’s why it’s so surprising to hear ‘bout a unit dispute! Though, I think it’s good that you can exchange opinions to the point you have disagreements. ♪

Yuuta: ……

Niki: We gotta suffer underneath Rinne-kun’s dictatorship, y’know! I know nothin’ when it comes to our plans, or if they exist at all!

Yuuta: Ahaha…

Niki: Ah well, I hope y’all will be able to make up soon! It’d be bad news if the fight gets so bad a kitchen knife gets pulled! ♪

Yuuta: A-A kitchen knife…?

Niki: Nahaha, Rinne-kun’s to blame for that okay, okay~?

Yuuta: That’s terrifying…!

Niki: Oops, I can’t go around scarin’ my customers! I’mma head back to the kitchen, do take your time~!

Yuuta: Thanks a bunch, I’m sure it’ll be delicious!

Yuuta: (…Hmm. I dunno what Aniki’s conversations with Shiina-senpai are like, but…)

(Does that mean that everything seems fine and dandy from the outside about our current selves…?)

(It’s true that in plain terms, work is going well, thankfully. There’s no future out there for idols who can’t ensure they complete their jobs.)

(And when we stand on stage, those experiences that are ingrained in our very bones are what makes us shine.)

(Those who know us well are familiar with our troubles. But how do we look to everyone else?)

(As CosPro’s beloved honor students, with no misfortunes, no troubles? Fairly alright, popular idols who are fun to watch?)

(If the 2wink everyone sees has no problems at all…)

(Then the problem really does lie between “Aoi Hinata” and “Aoi Yuuta”.)

(…At least, that’s the case if it’s just us on stage, not when we are facing other units.)

…I wish this was spicier. Should I add cayenne pepper or tabasco…

Rinne: Wassup~, it’s ya boi, Rinne-kun! ☆ I’ve come to extort you for food, Niki-kyun! ♪

Yuuta: I wonder if death sauce would be better…

Rinne: Ohoho? Whose this little cutie here? If it ain’t Yuta-kun! ♪

I sure am runnin’ into ya a bunch today, Yuta. Let’s toast to our first reunion after a couple hours, with this free-of-charge water…♪

Yuuta: ……

This is the worst. Is today just my unlucky day…?

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This translation is currently in progress, however you may continue my livetweet here. Please keep in mind my livetweet is not JP proofed.

#love letter #rinne amagi #yuuta aoi #niki shiina #event #translation

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argethara · 2 years

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A/N: Hello, argethara reporting! I’m back from customer service hell. Here’s a piece to celebrate my freedom. A sweet crackfic from @levihanbaryo‘s pool of prompts. I hope y’all are still obsessed with levihan as much as I do. If not, why???

Oh, and btw! Levihan Baryo admins and participants are working hard to finish a zine for our beloved ship. Please support and root for our works soon!

You can also hang-out with us in our Discord server. Just DM me for the link.

Okay, here goes my trash.

PROMPT: Levi got a huge crush on Dr. Hange Zoe so he decided to receive an extra dose of vaccine from them.

C/W: Profanities, crack medical process (please this is the prompt given, don’t be mad)

(Context: Yes, this is COVID-19 vaccine. Yes, in our country, people get 2 shots of the vaccine and 2 booster shots. Yes, we don’t have a lot of the J&J brand.)

It’s not everyday that a person like Levi Ackerman gets nervous as shaking, heart popping out of his chest kind of nervous. Heck, he wasn’t even an inch close to this scared when he was brought by his uncle to a clinic one random day to finally be an actual man. He didn’t even cry after the procedure. Didn’t flinch when he got home with a pain worth his life on his official man dong. And he’s barely eleven years old then.

Levi “the strongest” Ackerman wasn’t this restless on his first job interview too.

So why does meeting a doctor for a vaccination schedule make him squeak?

Goddamn, it’s more embarrassing to think that he does mixed martial arts in his free time and he’s acting all anxious on his seat for a second-long puncture on his skin.

“Neeeeext!”

Levi stands up and sits on the next chair. It’s almost his turn and he can feel the rush of blood in his veins more, the sweat profusely dropping and staining his baby blue button down shirt. His eyes grow when he tries to peek and the wetness shows on the fabric. He immediately closes his arms to his sides, sitting straight and looking around, trying to find that familiar face.

And there they are. In one corner of the hall, he can see them talking with an elderly woman and throwing the used syringe in the biohazard bin. Levi starts gawking as his surroundings fade into view and his focus tunnels to the bird nest on their head, sliding his vision on the gorgeous bridge sitting nicely between their never-fading, blazing hazelnut eyes, crinkling as their wide smile brightens the whole place.

A noise ruins his pink slow motion filter.

“Neeext!” “Neeext!”

His knees start to wobble a bit. The nurse gives him a strange look. As he draws near, he realizes something that makes all his shakiness replaced with cold disappointment.

After sweating and doing all the math in his head, the person they came for stands up and says, “Better get back to the hospital. See you tomorrow, Dr. Yeager!”

“Thank you for assisting today, Zoe. Oh, if you see Eren around, tell him to go home early,” Dr. Yeager replied.

“Copy that, Doc! Your son really bakes amazing stuff, I’ll make sure to buy some eclairs for my interns.”

“You bet. Rest too, sweetheart.”

No, stay, Levi wishes silently.

The person laughed beautifully, loudly. Levi stops on his tracks, which the nurse guiding him obviously didn’t appreciate.

“Sir, it’s your turn-”

And Levi does his mental calculation again as he watches the person fix their things, preparing to head out of the facility.

He looks at this Dr. Yeager which eerily reminds him of his spiteful mixed martial arts club mate in college. Who also likes to say, “Don’t let them know your next move” when he’s about to lose the match.

Don’t let them know your next move

He hates to admit but he does exactly what the pathetic monkey is chanting in his head.

He does the unexpected.

Looking at the nurse that is already frowning harder than he could, he frowns his hardest, clenching his chest with a fist, and kneels dramatically on the floor. “Eugh” “Eugh!”

The nurse watches him heartlessly as she sighs.

He drops down to the floor further with his hands on his chest, emphasizing the “Eugh” as he continues. He feels his face is so red at that point. He has never done this all his life.

His eyes are still closed. He is becoming more self-conscious and realizes this is the most regrettable decision he has made. Or not, his mind debates. If he gets the attention of that damn doctor, bugging his wits to its end every night, then this shitty act might be worth it after all.

Good fucking thing that I’m a hundred kilometers away from my city.

The things I do, just so I could call you mine.

Mikasa’s playlist started consoling him away from his current state. Oh to do some stupid teenage lovesick bullshit when you’re in your thirties.

“Sir, please calm down! I’m Pieck, a nurse. Where does it hurt?”

Levi opened an eye. The snobbish nurse is near him.

Fuck, just get out here.

He glances at where the person is and they are watching him. Good, he rolls a bit towards Dr. Zoe, bumping to some chairs.

The damn nurse held him in place by his shoulder.

“Sir! Open your eyes. Please tell me where it hurts so I can help you. Try not to move much.”

Go fucking away!

Levi has the urge to yell but his act will be caught and he doesn't want his efforts to fail. He’s already doing a ridiculous way of getting their attention, and might as well succeed.

“I- I, my b-brain an-d my heart fucking hurts,” he suddenly said.

Yes, my brain is at the edge. I don’t know how to keep up nor end this shit I started.

“Huh? Can you stand, Sir? What’s your name?” Nurse Pieck asked.

God, help me.

“No.” I won’t stand unless Dr. Zoe will get me up.

The nurse makes him lie on the ground and he complies, not knowing what his next move will be anymore. Seems like he’s not stupid enough to pull of a stupid decision like Zeke does. His fist is still on his chest to keep the act straight.

“What’s happening?”

Hallelujah.

“Oh, Doc Zoe! He’s sweating and panting hard but I haven’t checked any vital signs yet. He said his brain and heart hurts. He’s been like this for two minutes now.”

“Alright. Thank you, Pieck.” Levi feels a presence on his right side.

He opened his eyes to the brunette when they touched his forehead.

The pants got harder.

Fucked. I am fucked. Why did I do this?

“Sir, can you speak? What’s your name?”

Their sparkling brown eyes are at him. Curious, like he’s a fucking specimen in the lab but that’s alright. He made them stay.

His chest actually tightens. Breathtaking.

Dr. Zoe chuckled and he blinked. Shit, he almost forgot he’s acting.

“What’s your name?” They repeated.

“Levi,” he muttered.

“Okay, Levi, I’m Dr. Hange Zoe. Is the pain still there?”

“A-ah, Y-yea. It’s… I can’t breathe properly.”

“Rate your pain from 1-10.”

“Earlier 8, now it’s 5.”

“Can you stand?”

“Yeah.”

“Now we’re talking!” They beamed at the nurse and the latter rolled her eyes.

“You can leave Levi to me now, Nurse. You can attend to the others.”

Pieck huffed, “I can handle this, though! You’re about to go out.”

“It’s okay. I still have some time. I’ll just go to the cafe next time.”

Pieck gives him a look one last time and goes back to the other people on the line. Dr. Zoe helps him to sit on a chair. They’re smiling like it’s business as usual but it’s enough for Levi’s heart to actually palpitate abnormally.

“Ah, can you hold on for a minute?”

Levi nods as a response. He dares not to look around. He knows they’re still watching. Especially the witch that was assisting him earlier. Her eyes are sending laser beams from afar, he can tell.

They step out and he watches them instead.

When they get back to him, they give them a cup of water. And they both sit quietly as he downs the liquid.

The doctor takes a breath and smiles as he glances to their side.

“How are you feeling?” They inquired.

“Better.” He muttered.

“That’s quite a scene, eh? Have you had any experience like that before?”

His ears turn pink. “This is the first time.”

“Can I?” They raised their manual sphygmomanometer.

He nodded.

They measured his blood pressure. Staring at him closely from time to time.

Damn, they smell like sweat and isopropyl alcohol.

I should say something.

Shit, almost done?

They bite their lip when focused.

That’s sexy.

“It’s higher than normal but you’ll survive with a bit of rest and water. You should cool down if you wanna get the vaccine today, but you can return to-”

“No.” The doctor is surprised with his firm tone.

“O-oh. You might be a busy person. I understand-”

“No, I’m not busy I, I just-” he stutters.

“Ahh… Oh!” Hange holds his hands in theirs and Levi almost freaks out. He likes it, though. They have warm, comforting hands.

“Do you have trypanophobia?” They whispered.

“Huh?”

The person is closer to Levi than he allows people to be with him on normal days. But he is now basking in their attention. It is a successful mission. No matter how fucked the method he did.

They nodded consolingly. “That’s okay. No shame on being afraid of needles. I know a lot of people who are the same. They even run away or faint sometimes. Some doctors do too! I’m proud of you for conquering your fears and getting this vaccine…”

Doctor Hange Zoe rambles about the benefits of vaccination and how to defeat his fears. He hears the name of a psychiatrist that can help him with his problem. Their speech goes from one ear to the other. The highlight of his day is not only that he managed to talk with the doctor this time, he was also touched, comforted.

“...And you see, all the citizens of the world are being monitored right now. Paradis even has a database of all the people who already had the vaccine that’s been distributed. Oh! Good Ymir! I haven’t asked your whole name yet.”

“Levi Ackerman.”

And it happens so fast. He’s now sitting on a chair in one of the booths. Being taken care of by THE Hange Zoe themself. As soon as they’re done, he grabs the opportunity to exchange numbers. “I’m passionate about recovering from fears! Please get in touch when you’re ready to talk with a psychiatrist. He’s a friend of mine but I highly recommend him for his expertise you know…”

Another five-minute monologue on his mental health and he doesn’t give a fuck anymore. He rarely accepts opinions of others yet it feels like heaven that they’re overly worried about his well-being.

The day ends with him taking an hour flight to Sina where he actually lives and works.

On the following day, he wakes up and crawls on his bed with a heavy body, burning deep to his bones from the side effect of the vaccine.

He smiles as the notification pops out messages from his precious Hange Zoe.

“Hi Levi! This is Hange in case you didn’t save my number. How are you? I’m sorry, I forgot to register your name yesterday! I was talking a lot and I forgot and I know it’s my negligence as a doctor. It’s a very rare mistake on my part. Please forgive me! I’ll do it immediately when I get to the hospital.” Sent 6:12 AM.

“You must be sleeping. I want to inform you about the registration. System says you already completed your set of vaccines in North Sina General Hospital a week ago. But maybe it’s a system error. Let me ask this to my colleagues.” Sent 7:00 AM.

“Hi, Levi! Did you forget to take your last booster shot last week? I’m afraid I gave you a fifth one. Do you know that there are only 2 sets for the initial and 2 booster shots? I’ve committed two offenses against my practice already if that’s the case. Oh God! I was so careless, I forgot to check the database beforehand.” Sent 7:24 AM.

“Remember Dr. Smith, the psychiatrist? He said the database is very very updated. OMG. Can we talk?” Sent 7:50 AM.

9 missed calls from Sunshine <3

He chuckles weakly. The fuck he’s gonna tell them. That he’s a stupid simp?

Levi presses their number to call them back.

“Levi! Oh my God! How are you? I’m really sorry! I think-”

He laughs. They sound like they care about him.

“I- huh? Hello? Are you okay?”

“Don’t worry.”

“Huh?”

“You don’t have to worry. It’s entirely my fault,” he coughs.

“A-are you sick?”

“No, uh yeah, but it’s just a side effect of the vaccine. It usually goes away after a day of rest.”

“So did I really give you a third booster shot?” They are sniffing on the other line.

“Yeah.”

“Oh no!” The cries get louder.

“Shh, shh, hey. Doctor, listen. Can I tell you something?”

“Hm?” sniffs, “Yeah, anything. I’m really sorry.”

“You really don’t remember me?”

“What do you mean?”

He sighs, “That’s disappointing. We even laughed with the children in the orphanage together.”

“Orphanage?”

“Yeah, five months ago, The Ymir’s Heart For Angels Foundation event.”

There’s silence. Levi looked at his phone, checking if they hung up already.

“You might’ve been too busy to remember me. Sorry for acting stupid. It’s not your fault. I didn’t know we could only get up to four shots. And a fever won’t kill me, you know that too. Someone told me you’re a doctor in Shiganshina and I happen to be in the area for business. So I tried visiting you but you weren’t in the hospital for two days. It’s almost my flight so I got desperate and went to the vaccination center.”

“Do you have a fever?” They cut his confession.

“Well, yeah, kind of.” He admits.

“You kinda deserve that.”

“Hm, yeah.” He laughs at their annoyed voice.

“Do you have family taking care of you?”

“I’m alone. Ah- I have a cat, if it counts as family.”

“Mr. Ackerman, I’m not joking with you.”

“Neither am I, Dr. Zoe.”

Someone is calling the doctor from their end. He waits and relaxes on their words he barely understands. Their end goes quiet after some time.

“Doc? Hange?” He asks.

“Don’t risk my license to meet me next time.”

“Wha-”

The phone beeps as his caller ends the call.

“Call me tonight” Sent 1:15 PM.

#levihan #attack on titan #levi ackerman #hange zöe #argethara

14 notes · View notes

miscelunaaa · 2 years

Text

give yourself a try 2 | myg

pairing: yoongi x plus-sized female reader

genre: colleagues to lovers, angst, smut, mutual pining

summary: After you reveal what’s happened between you and Yoongi, Jimin and the rest of the staff hatch a plan to help the two of you start speaking again.

rating: 18+ for sexual content and difficult subject matter. Minors: Do Not Interact.

word count: 11.3k

warnings: Frequent POV changes. Reader is insecure about her body and has a lot of internalized fatphobia. Depictions of anxiety and mild depression. Panic attacks. Meltdowns in a service workplace. Plotting. Slander upon a beloved breakfast food. Sabotage of a Malkonig ek43 grinder. Very angsty back story mentioning medical issues, a medical condition associated with fertility issues and infertility, and break-ups. Making out in public. Grinding. Annoying customers. Sexual content in the form of: soft dom Yoongi, oral (female receiving), depiction/mention of stretch marks on a soft body, fingering, dirty talk, use of pet name, unprotected sex with birth control in place (wrap it up y’all), praise kink tbh, brief handjob, coital alignment technique if you squint, choking, multiple orgasms, squirting, creampieee, crying during and after sex. Finally: a kind reminder that having sex doesn’t actually fix you or your problems. It can be romantic all it wants but it’s no replacement for therapy, etc.

notes: It feels strange to be posting right now, with the way everything is currently going. I thought about not posting this bit but, that didn’t feel right either. It’s times like this that we need comfort in the doses we can get it. The world is constantly in the process of falling apart somewhere; this time it feels closer, for various reasons. Make sure that you’re reading news from reputable sources, and that if you’re donating resources, they’re going to reputable recipients. The amount of misinformation and misdirection out there right now is unknown but significant. Much love. Stay safe.

my masterlist | my disclaimers

series masterlist | read on ao3

part 1 | epilogue

It’s days before Jimin finally has the chance to ask how the after hours meeting went with Yoongi. In the interim, he and the rest of the staff have noticed that something seems off.

More than anything, they’ve noticed that you’ve become almost puritanical in your normal cleaning routines. Instead of letting others take the time to do the different tasks, you’ve set out to do them yourself. Jimin notices that you’ve even rewritten the deployments for most days so that you can spend your time hiding and cleaning, and if you’re not doing that, you’re hiding on the pour-over bar, which conveniently faces a wall so that you have minimal interaction. You’ve hardly spoken to anyone for days, which is, even for you, highly unusual.

It’s when you give Seokjin, the dilfy lawyer regular that everyone in the shop loves, a tense smile over your shoulder that everyone realizes that this isn’t a regular funk. Not in the slightest. Normally you’d ask him about his mother, or how the latest shit show client is faring, and instead, you’re silent. Seokjin is the one to say something.

“So, uh, is Y/N okay?” Seokjin asks Jimin in a low voice. He’s reaching for his customary americano when he asks, tossing a glance at your back before looking at Jimin. Jimin’s face falls immediately.

“We aren’t sure, actually,” Jimin sighs. He takes a moment to brush grounds dust from under the machine as Seokjin rounds the corner to stand by the espresso machine. Jimin resumes work on his order queue. “She’s been like this for days but I’m not sure how to talk to her. She keeps hiding and cleaning whenever there’s down time. I’ve never seen Y/N like this before. Something must’ve—OH.”

“What?”

Jimin feels like an absolute idiot. He recovers quickly, and tells Seokjin, “Yoongi was here the night of that storm to fix the machine again. She stayed behind to let him into the store.”

“You think something happened between them?” Seokjin glances at you again. “What could’ve possibly happened? They’re so grossly into each other. Rub it into my face more that someone you want wants you back.”

Jimin laughs. “That’s what I said! And she didn’t believe me at all. That’s not enough to send her in a spiral like this though.”

“I guess it could be something else,” Seokjin shrugs as he takes a sip of his drink. “You should probably get to the bottom of it. This hurts to see.”

“Yeah, you’re right, I keep hoping that she’ll open up on her own, but I think I’m going to have to crack the nut instead.”

Seokjin lets out a low, chesty laugh. “Bust a nut. Amazing.”

“Ugh, you’re so gross. Go help people get custody of their cats or whatever it is you do.”

“Pets are assets, like property, in the eyes of the law.”

“So how do you split custody?”

“Consultation’s up. That’ll be thirty-five hundred bucks to retain me.”

“I expected a King Solomon joke at the very least, you con artist,” Jimin pouts. At this, Seokjin laughs again, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Ouch? I guess? I’ve been called worse. Anyway, thank you for my happy juice, I have to get going. I expect a progress update tomorrow morning,” he chuckles as he turns and leaves the counter, giving the rest of the staff a wave and a smile before disappearing out into the cold.

---

Jimin doesn’t even have to lift a finger in order to set the plan in motion. Mere minutes after the conversation with Seokjin, Jungkook comes up to him with a little pile of grounds in his palm.

“I think the main grinder is fucked up.”

“What makes you say that?” Jimin looks up from the task list. You’ve crossed most of it off already.

“Look how uneven this grind is. There’s no way there’s supposed to be fines like that on an EK.”

“Fuck. That does look terrible,” Jimin says as he looks at the ground coffee in Jungkook’s palm. There are large chunks mixed in with fine dust. It’s absolutely not supposed to look like that. Even with Jimin’s fast and loose understanding of what it should look like, he knows that all of the particles should look more evenly sized compared to each other.

Jungkook walks to the trash can and brushes his hands off. “Should I tell Y/N to call Yoongi?”

Jimin thinks for a moment. And then, suddenly, he’s struck by an idea.

“Ah, don’t bother her with that. Go grab the spare from the back. I’ll call him now.”

---

The look on your face when Yoongi walks in hours later tells Jimin everything he needs to know about the past few days. For what it’s worth, Yoongi himself looks about as rough as you do. While you’ve got shadows under your eyes and have been pushing enough coffee to cause a spontaneous kidney stone, Yoongi looks positively gaunt. His eyes are bloodshot and, for once, he’s got glasses on instead of contacts.

Jimin watches as you turn to throw your usual greeting to the door (old habits die hard, after all), only to have your face immediately go still, along with the rest of your body. Yoongi does the same, until someone asks to get past him so that they can leave. You use his momentary distraction to bolt for the back room. When Yoongi looks back, he shows nothing of his disappointment but the bob of his throat as he swallows down whatever emotions had risen up upon seeing you.

How very interesting, Jimin thinks to himself as he greets the machine tech.

“So, what’s wrong with the grinder again?” Yoongi’s voice seems lower than usual as he sets his work bag down by the counter. It rubs against Jimin’s ears, kind of like a cat might rub up against one’s legs. Focus, Chim, now’s not the time for thirst.

“Lots of fines. Grind is really uneven. I’m surprised we missed it,” Jimin starts, “Y/N is usually on top of these things.”

The young man doesn’t miss the way Yoongi’s shoulders suddenly tense as he starts inspecting the grinder. “Yeah, well, sometimes this stuff falls to the wayside. I think this was bought used and I very much doubt that Dave thought to buy a new set of burrs when he got it to open this place.”

He seems more grumbly than usual, though he’s not outright cranky. Jimin thinks he seems tired, at least on the outside. But he’s not asked after you yet. With your reaction to the man walking through the door, it’s all beginning to add up. Something definitely happened between you and Yoongi. Now he just has to figure out what.

“Jungkook, watch the front for me, would you?”

“Sure.”

---

He doesn’t remember the last time he saw you cry in the back. Usually, it’s one of the babies, and you’re the one rubbing their back as they sit on a milk crate and just let themselves go. When Jungkook got dumped by that douchey trust fund boy, you were there. When Mercedes got a B minus on her economics paper, you were there too! Even Sarah, perhaps the coolest under pressure, has cried in the back. She coldly told a customer off for being a dick and then promptly went to the back and cried. You had done damage control with her while Jimin and Jungkook did damage control up front. Jimin’s had his moments too. Everyone who works in service cries in the back at some point. It’s an unfortunate rite of passage.

It’s when you look at him with tears streaming down your face that he realizes this is the first time he’s personally seen this. It just breaks his heart.

“Hey, hon, you okay?” He asks tenderly. He squats next to you and uses his sweater sleeves to brush the tears from your face.

“Does it look like I’m okay?”

“Your mascara isn’t running, so that’s good, right?”

“Ha … ha ha. I’m not wearing any,” you sniff as you take a shaky breath.

“You want to tell me what’s going on between you and a certain machine guy?”

Your eyes flutter closed as you take another breath and let it out slowly. “Not especially.”

“He looks about as rough as you do, hon, so whatever happened, it’s bugging him too.”

“He looks fine. He looks great. Way better than me. He’s—”

“Would you fucking stop that?” Jimin snaps. He hates it when you do this. “Would you stop doing that thing where you shit on yourself because you think you’re fighting outside your weight class?”

He watches you flinch at his words. Bingo.

“He looks like shit and he sounds like shit too. What the fuck happened between you two?”

You’re silent as Jimin reaches forward and swipes his palms over your cheeks again. “Y/N, you’ve got to talk to someone about this, you can’t just hold it in. Seeing you in pain like this makes us worry that you’re dealing with something alone when you don’t have to. We want to help.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. More fresh tears. Your chin does that weird scrunching thing as your bottom lip quivers, fighting to keep a sob back.

“We kissed. He asked to kiss me and I said yes and I—” The sob you were fighting wracks your frame. You let your head drop, your hands resting on the back of your head as you sob into your parted knees.

“I fucked it up, Jimin. I let myself fuck it up again.”

Jimin sits next to you and starts rubbing soft but firm circles into your back. He has a feeling that this is touching on some deeper shit for you. Something he doesn’t know about.

“What do you mean ‘again’?”

“I’m a fuck up. I fuck everything up and I can’t make it stop.”

You’re working yourself up into a panic; Jimin recognizes the rapid expansion and contraction of your ribcage, and the shallow sound of your breaths. He’s got to get you to come down from the edge.

“Hey, hey,” he lets his voice drop to a soft stage whisper. “You’re not fucking up all the time. You’ve got staff who love you and regulars who care about you. You take care of us, so it’s time to let us take care of you. You didn’t fuck this up. This is not your fault.” Whatever made you feel this way about yourself is not your fault.

He looks up to see Jungkook poke his head at the swinging door’s window, his mouth set in a determined little pout. When he sees the situation, he gives Jimin a little thumbs up before disappearing as quickly as he came. Thank god he’s not in the weeds right now; if you found out that he’d abandoned the poor kid out there by himself, you’d never let yourself live it down. You can cry for a bit longer, and for that, he’s thankful. Tears are an important part of healing whatever is laying waste to your heart.

Your breathing slowly gets better over the next few minutes, becoming even and steady. You pull your head back up and start running your hands over your cheeks to wipe away the tears.

“Are you ready to talk about it?” Jimin asks.

“No,” you pout. “But I know you’re not going to leave me alone until I do.”

“Holding shit in is just going to hold you back.”

You grimace. He’s not sure why.

“What?”

“He said something like that too … the other day.”

“Who, Yoongi?”

You nod. Jimin decides it’s time to start asking more pointed questions.

“So, what happened after I left?”

You take a deep, shaky breath and then, walk him through what happened. It takes surprisingly little prodding. The kiss, how it made you feel in its multitudes, the phone call, dinner, Yoongi’s confession, and then the morning after. Quick and succinct. He doesn’t even have to remind you to not make judgment statements about yourself. You just give it to him as it happened, but the detail is such that he thinks he might know what the issue is. When you get to the end, Jimin holds your gaze for a moment before letting himself smile at you.

“See? You did it. You don’t have to hold it in all the time, and all you did is tell me what happened. How do you feel?”

“Better.”

“And I don’t feel put out at all. I’m so happy you told me what happened. Thank you for sharing it with me.” He watches you shrink into yourself a little with that, but you don’t close yourself off entirely. Progress. Your usual wall isn’t back up; at least, not completely.

As if scripted, Jungkook suddenly leans through the door into the back. “Heeeey, Jimin, I’ve got a custie asking some specific questions about the Colombian caturra …”

“Okay, give me just a sec.” Jimin turns back to you. “Take all of the time you need back here. Do you want to grab dinner together later once we’ve closed?”

“Sure, that’d be really nice.” You give him a weak smile as he pushes the door open to go back up front.

---

There is no customer asking about Colombian coffee, but there is a very stressed out Yoongi packing up his things. When he sees Jimin come out from the back, he pauses.

“You’re lucky I had a set of burrs on hand, they’re on back order right now,” he grunts as he leans on the counter. He crosses his arms. Jimin notices that he can’t quite make eye contact with him or Jungkook. The man seems restless and fidgety, even with his arms crossed. Nevertheless, Jimin plays along.

“So it was the burrs?”

“Yeah, pretty standard fix. Expensive though. I’ll be sending an invoice to Dave for the new set.”

He never talks cost or invoices. Is he … stalling?

“Is there anything else you need, Yoongi?”

Yoongi blinks, and Jimin watches as the flush of embarrassment tints his ears red. The man taps his long fingers on his own arm for a moment before shaking his arms loose and standing up straight.

“No, I—”

He freezes as you walk out from the back, in the middle of shedding your apron. You could look worse, Jimin thinks; it’s clear you’ve been crying but there’s a clarity about you that you didn’t have before. You glance around at each of the men’s faces while folding your apron, before placing it gently on the counter and making your way to the bathroom. Stone cold. Jimin has to admire your ability to hold it together in front of a crowd.

Yoongi doesn’t look at you until your back is turned, the hurt and longing in his eyes evident, even while the rest of him remains stoic.

“She’s really pissed at herself, you know,” Jimin says casually as he watches the tech turn back to packing the rest of his tools. He keeps his voice low enough to be obscured by Jungkook helping another customer; no one can hear him but Yoongi. Yoongi’s face is still as a pond, betraying nothing.

A beat of silence passes, then:

“I don’t know what I did wrong. I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

“I don’t think you did anything wrong,” Jimin says slowly. “I think she might be insecure about her attraction to you.”

“That’s ridiculous, I think—”

“You can think all you want, but it won’t change how she feels.”

Yoongi is silent for a moment. “Why would she be insecure about her attraction? To me? I’m nothing special.”

“Well, you’d have to ask her to be sure but it probably has something to do with you being physically smaller than her.”

“That’s—” Yoongi pauses before finishing. His mouth hangs open as he processes. Jimin can see the gears turning in his head. “Hm.”

“Yeah. And I think there’s some other shit, on top of that, but I am not going to press for it yet. So, be gentle? With her and yourself. She’s not mad at you. Just … be patient.”

Yoongi sighs. “I can be patient. I—I like her a lot, Jimin. Can you like, remind her about that, or something? That I still want to try to get to know her? If she’ll let me?”

Ah, he’s almost too good to be real. It’s middle school all over again. Lucky wench.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

---

Of course, you already know that Yoongi likes you, at least in some regard. He even said as much to you. Jimin knows you know this but cannot fathom why you’re so hung up on it, even after all of the vulnerable conversations you’ve shared over the past few weeks.

But you, stubborn as ever, are resistant to all of Jimin’s pleadings to call the man up and have a conversation. To say you are avoidant is an understatement. Jimin has never seen someone carry out such a long (and successful) campaign to circumvent talking to one specific person. The upside, probably, is that everyone working at the shop now knows how to call Yoongi if something breaks. The downside is that you’ve probably forgotten how to do it at all.

Every time Yoongi shows up to fix something, you somehow find something else to do. Jimin and the rest of the staff can’t keep juggling everything without your support and they’re all beginning to grow weary of your avoidant behavior.

For Yoongi’s part, his promised patience is obviously wearing thin. He’s gone from being quiet to gruff to downright grumpy. Jimin wonders idly if he’s coming to resent you; you’d never admit it, but you’re wondering the same.

It’s Sarah, of all people, that breaks first. The most patient of the babies can be patient no longer.

Some weeks after the initial incident, in late January, Jimin’s working on the machine with her during the usual mid-morning rush. Yoongi was in the day before, performing a tune up on the batch brewer. All of it is still weighing heavily on everyone’s mind.

“Hey, Jimin,” she asks awkwardly as she doses grounds into a portafilter.

“Hey, Sarah,” he teases back. He’s pouring milk and steaming, the two working well in tandem, a much more well-tuned machine than the one they’re using currently.

“I think we have to do something about Y/N and Yoongi.”

“Yeah, no shit.”

“I’m serious. It’s getting stupid. He snapped at Kook yesterday. I thought he was going to cry.”

“Wait, which one did you think was going to cry?”

“Does it matter?”

Jimin’s eyes narrow. “No. I just can’t imagine Yoongi crying, I guess.”

“It’s a look, that’s for sure,” she snorts softly, her hands automatically moving through the workflow. “I think we need to do something. Get them to talk it out or whatever.”

“Pretty sure it’s illegal for us to detain them.”

“You have to think more creatively than that. We have to like, trick them into it, you know?”

“Yeah, I get what you’re saying. They’re both so on edge. It’s going to need to be subtle.”

“Or not so subtle. We could just brute force it if we need to. You know she has a hard time saying no to us.”

Jimin thinks for a moment as they shuffle drinks through the queue.

“We could break something to get him here. That’s simple enough.”

“What if we all picked a day to call out sick?” Sarah’s tone is matter-of-fact, almost as if she’s planned this conversation out. He wouldn’t put it past her, that’s for sure.

“She’d just close the store.”

“Yeah but like, what if we all got sick one by one and had to leave and then she’s the only one left when he comes?”

Jimin mulls this over. “Tell me more.”

---

Dialing in an espresso set-up is one of Jimin’s greatest joys. The only greater joy is the espresso itself. He delights in the manual aspects and being able to make a coffee shine is something he finds incredibly rewarding. Even when he opens the shop with you, you leave the work to him. You know he has the knowledge and, more importantly, confidence to troubleshoot any issues with taste by himself. He knows the equipment and the work flow like he knows choreography: one thing always leads into the next, and the knowledge becomes so ingrained that the outcomes of the movement become predictable. It’s all a dance, and that makes it effortless.

This knowledge, however, also means that he knows precisely how to sow utter chaos and sabotage on the appointed day. Not only does he know his workflow, he knows you.

The plan is simple. It’s too risky to sabotage the espresso machine; he might break it for real if he’s not careful. Instead, Jimin’s going to facilitate an issue with the grinder. Sure, you might be the goddess of cleaning, but when it comes to certain tasks, like recalibrating a grinder, you’re hopeless. And the spare is so heavy, you’ll never be able to get it from the back. You’ll panic. Your gut reaction is always to call something in for a tech to fix rather than fix it yourself. Jimin learned how to calibrate, and thus fuck up the calibration, with ease after watching a few YouTube videos. He’s relying heavily on your instinct to call in equipment issues. The behavior is so ingrained that he almost trusts you to fulfill the plan more than he trusts himself.

Once they get through the morning rush, he’a going to unscrew some stuff on the setting dial using a few tools he borrowed from Seokjin.

The rest is simple: all staff are going to abandon ship. He and Mercedes even made up an alibi in front of the others so they can make it look like they got food poisoning from the same food. Jungkook and Sarah have both planned plausible excuses, and then, well, they don’t even have to worry about the owner. He’d be utterly useless anyway; you won’t even think to call him.

Now they just have to wait patiently set it all in motion at the right time.

Jimin’s pretty good at deception. On a good day, he can pretty well fake his way through anything. But hot damn, Mercedes is terrible at it. She’s sweet as hell and can’t lie for shit. Jimin gave her the option to switch shifts, but she’s determined to make the plan work. Her part is simple. Most of the plan hinges on things within his own control and then your predictability. He knows he doesn’t have to worry about Yoongi: everyone knows he’d soft on you, even now, and will get here to help you without a second thought.

As Jimin walks to the front door and unlocks it to start the day, he takes a deep breath in, and lets it out. The show’s about to start. He’s calm and ready.

The air outside is bracingly cold; it feels like it’s going to snow. This day couldn’t be more perfect.

Showtime.

---

There are days when you’d rather crawl back into bed, sleep until the next morning, and awaken to a fresh day and a fresh start.

This is definitely one of those days.

It’s been one of those lives, frankly, but this is definitely one of those days where you just want to untether from reality and float away into the multiverse with no other thoughts but “rest.” At least you’ve been cleared to close early for the day because of the impending snow. The recent snow storms have been relentless. Even the useless owner can see that.

It all started with some cursed breakfast food. One moment you’re all cleaning up from the mid-morning rush, and the next, Mercedes is running to the bathroom. She’s in such a rush that she doesn’t even get her apron off before slamming the door behind her. You shoot an alarmed look at Jimin, who returns it in kind.

When she comes back five minutes later, she looks decidedly unwell. Her face is a little drawn, and she looks so uncomfortable to be standing before you and Jimin. You’ve never seen her this sick before. She looks awful.

“You feeling okay, Mercedes?”

“I’m fine. Just um … threw up in the bathroom is all.” Her soft, low voice is timid as she reaches for a towel, as if she’s supposed to keep wiping counters down in her condition.

You stop her. “Absolutely not. You should go home. Jimin and I can handle the rest of the day, right Jimin?”

He doesn’t answer. When you turn to look at him, you see him standing by the grinder. Well, he’s not standing, actually. He’s hunched over a little, his back facing you. When he turns, you see that his face is twisted into a grimace and his arms are wrapped around his middle.

“Oh my god, are you alright?” You feel your heart sinking as you say the words.

“Um,” Jimin squeaks. “I’ll let you know in a sec.” He scrambles to tear off his apron and then suddenly he’s running to the bathroom just as Mercedes had minutes before.

“Didn’t you two hang out last night?”

“We did. We got breakfast this morning on our way in. He spent the night because we were up so late and it made sense to but—” She winces, her hand comes up to her mouth, and then her body trembles for a moment before she can breathe again. “I guess it’s not sitting well.”

“What did you get?! Where? I’m gonna report them for—”

“I never want to see an egg sandwich againnn,” Mercedes whines, tears beginning to form at the corners of her big brown eyes. Her chin is wrinkled as she pouts and grips her middle in a hunch. The meltdown is imminent.

Suddenly, you’ve got someone at the counter waiting to be helped, so you shoo her to the back while saying, “Go home, get some rest. Make sure to drink fluids.” And then you put on your best and most pleasant service face to turn and help the person who’d been waiting with more patience than you probably deserved.

As you move to the bar to make drink that just got ordered, Jimin emerges from the bathroom. He says goodbye to Mercedes as she leaves, but wow, he looks worse for wear. His skin has taken on a sweaty sheen, and he’s trying desperately to stand up straight as if his guts aren’t eating themselves alive. He’s failing about as much as Mercedes had moments earlier.

“Alright, you’re going home too,” you sigh. “You look like shit.”

“Rude. But accurate.” Jimin’s voice is strained and scratchy. He sounds worse than his last hangover, his normally silky tenor catching strangely in his throat. “Should I call someone in?”

You think for a moment. “Honestly, yeah. This puts us behind a little, and I’ll need some help.”

“Okay, I can do that.” He disappears to the back.

---

Something is wrong with the grinder. It’s chirping at you. It’s fucking chirping at you and it’s at setting six! Fucking why is it chirping at setting six?!

As if this day couldn’t get any worse. You’re on a close by yourself now, with Jimin and Mercedes both out. You can’t begrudge them being sick, but you find the bitterness coming in at the edges because no one could cover them. Jungkook had a meeting with a professor and Sarah had some weird arty thing that she had to be at. It was going to be fine, but the grinder started acting up.

Just your fucking luck.

You’re flying completely blind now. The chirping is supposed to be subtle for espresso grinds, but instead it was screeching. You had to guess at a grind setting for a few shots, and ended up serving what you’re sure was mediocre espresso in the lattes you’d made. Blessedly, no one has ordered anything smaller than that. You’re positive a cortado made with this spro would taste weird as hell. The shots aren’t even pulling evenly, and to your chagrin, it looks like the grounds themselves are fucked up. It’s so weirdly fine one moment but when you adjust it’s suddenly huge. Sure, everything changes a little from hour to hour but holy shit. All of the dialing in Jimin did this morning is now fucked to hell and back, and the grinder in the back is useless. Why the fuck does Dave hold on to that junk?

Whatever force in the universe broke your grinder has it out for you, that’s for sure.

The snow has started to fall already, which is, in its own way, a godsend. The cafe is fucking dead. Most of your closing tasks are done because of that, even though you’ve got an hour left before the early close time. You’ve got a perfect set up, in spite of it all, but this fucking grinder had to throw a wrench in it all.

You know that you’ve got to call it in. If it’s something with the burrs, then it’s something only a repair guy would know how to fix. You’re not fucking with that shit; it’s 600 bucks for a new set, and you’ve likely fucked them up a little already. You can’t afford for the owner to suddenly take that out of your paycheck if he suddenly decides to get spiced about it.

You chew on you lip while you look at Yoongi’s contact info on your phone screen.

The thought of seeing him without an escape has your heart in knots. It makes you feel numb and anxious all at once.

Maybe you can just have him stop tomorrow. You can leave Jungkook a note for what settings to use on it until then. With the snow moving through, it’ll probably be quiet for them and they’ll be able to accommodate the issue until he can get here. You’re not supposed to work tomorrow, and with any luck, your food poisoned co-workers will be able to work the shifts they’re supposed to have.

You’re willing to bet on it, and it’s with that plan in mind that you finally find the courage to press dial and just fucking call him.

It only rings once before he picks up.

“Y/N,” he says quickly. His voice is low, almost sinfully so. “Hi.”

“Hi, Yoongi.” You’re taken aback. Last time you’d called, he’d sounded so casual. This time he was verging on over-earnest.

There’s an awkward beat of silence and then:

“Is something wrong? Are you okay?” His voice raises in pitch a little, tinged with concern.

“Yes, I’m okay. I—um—shit, it’s so stupid. Our grinder is acting up again.”

“I just replaced the burrs less than a month ago.”

“I know, but like, it’s chirping at weirdly high settings and it’s really sensitive and I’m not sure what’s wrong with it.”

“Okay. I can be there in a half an hour.”

“You don’t have to come tonight. It’s going to snow and you shouldn’t have to drive in it.” I don’t want to deal with the thought of you out in it either.

“I want to,” he says quickly. “I mean—I can at least troubleshoot it and put in an order for the parts tonight if I can’t fix it.”

“You really don’t have to. You can come in tomorrow once it’s all stopped.”

“Y/N, it’s okay, really. Let me help you. It won’t take long.”

You pull your phone away from your face to check the time, ignoring the goosebumps rising on your arms. It’s 1:14pm.

“You said a half an hour?”

“Yeah, is that okay?”

“Yes. We’re closing early because of the snow.”

“Oh.”

“It’s okay. We can just do what we did last time.”

Yoongi is silent on the other end of the line. You realize what you said and heat floods your cheeks.

“Yoongi?”

“Yeah, we can—we can do what we did last time. Nooo problem. Sounds gooood.” He’s trying to play it off cool but you can tell he had the same thoughts as you. The kiss. In your case: tears. And feelings. So many feelings. God, that fucking kiss.

“Alright. See you soon then?”

“Yeah, see you soon, Y/N.”

---

The minutes pass by quickly. The flurries outside turn into real snow and it starts sticking to the ground. Your heart is fluttering in your chest as his arrival draws near.

Its beating stops when you see him walk up wearing a big coat and a pair of his trademark joggers, workbag in tow. His dark hair looks a little unkempt, and he looks cold and aloof. But, somehow, a little smile makes it to his lips as he comes in the door, and you feel like you could melt into the floor mats when he aims it at you.

It fades as quickly as it came, as if he wants to hide that it happened. You file the thought away for later and move to the grinder to start running through the issue with him.

As he sets his stuff down and throws his coat over a chair, he tries to make small talk.

“How was the day? Only one here again?”

“Both of my openers got food poisoning from dubious breakfast sandwiches,” you sigh.

He lets out a small huff of laughter. “That’s a new one. I haven’t heard of a bodega egg and cheese making someone sick before.”

He’s not wrong. “First time for everything I guess.”

By now he’s made it around the counter and has set his bag next to the grinder. He takes out a screw driver and a plastic case filled with different Allen wrenches. You’re fascinated with watching his hands work, his long fingers deftly holding each tool with care, no matter the size. His knuckles are knobby, the first bone in each of his fingers almost elegant in their length. You could look at them for hours and not grow bored.

“You said it was chirping at higher grinds than normal?” His voice interrupts your fixation.

“Yeah, it’s the weirdest thing. I don’t know what went wrong. It was fine through the morning rush.”

“Hm.”

Yoongi seems gentler than he has the past few times he’s been in the shop. His face doesn’t seem hard and tense. He seems almost relaxed. And he’s not being awkward either, which is honestly a relief.

You turn away while he starts tinkering with the setting knob so you can assess what still needs to be done in the minutes before the close. Tables need to be wiped down, but you can skip out on the sweeping. The winter salt makes keeping the floors clean impossible anyway. After that, a final counter wipe down, and then the till.

An alarm on your phone goes off. It’s two. You can shut it all down now.

You feel Yoongi’s gaze on you as you go to lock the front door, but he’s not looking at you when you walk back around the counter for a rag.

Okay. Maybe you’re not quite back to normal, not yet.

You feel his eyes on you still as you work to get tables cleaned. It only takes minutes but your body heats as if it’s his fingers on you and not his focus. Is he even getting any work done?

You make your way around the room, and then do one more wipe down on the counters. Now that you’re facing him, it’s your turn to stare. Even under the bulk of his loose clothes, you’re taken by the drape of fabric over his shoulders. It always surprises you how broad he actually is. His whole frame blocks the grinder from your sight as he works. The slope of his shoulders into his neck is obscured by the hood of his sweatshirt, but you’ve looked from afar enough over the past several months to know how he’s shaped even if you can’t see it. You’ve memorized his lines like a bard memorizes the lines of an epic.

You finish the counters and start on the till, making quick work of counting the cash before slipping it into the safe’s drop drawer. Several minutes have passed by the time you step back out onto the floor and place your things on the counter. You’ve discarded your apron already, and you’re about to start pulling on your coat when Yoongi turns around. His face is still, his dark hair falling into his eyes as he looks at you for a moment before glancing away.

“So, it’s fixed.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah. It’s fixed. All I had to do was recalibrate and tighten some screws up to secure it.”

You let yourself fall back on to lean on the counter, a sigh of relief escaping your lips.

“And I didn’t fuck up the burrs?”

He leans over and presses the ON switch. The grinder hums to life, making the air and counters vibrate. It sounds comforting and familiar. “Everything’s fine. It’s like someone just loosened some shit or whatever. You didn’t fuck anything up.”

All of the tension from the day rapidly leaves your system, to the point that you’re concerned you’ll fall apart simply because there may soon be nothing left to hold you together. It shouldn’t be the relief that it is, and yet it stands as such anyway.

“Are you alright?” His voice cuts through the silence. You hadn’t even noticed he’d turned the grinder off.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Long day,” you say, brushing off the heartache and reaching for your coat.

“But, at least it was a short one,” Yoongi says, glancing at his phone screen for the time before looking out past you at the glass windows of the shop.

You follow his gaze and see that the snow is coming down in earnest. Everything is coated in wet flakes, even the streets. It might be just a half inch or so now, maybe more, but with more coming and the roads cold enough for it to stick, he needs to leave now, before it gets worse. He sighs softly, before turning to reach for his bag.

“Will you be okay to get home? Don’t you live in the next town over?” You shouldn’t ask. You know you shouldn’t. You also know your heart can’t handle him staying anywhere else, not if you can help it.

“I do, but I drive—”

“—a Subaru. Right.” You can’t help but smile, which makes him smile in return.

After a moment, the smiles fade, and awkwardness begins to creep back into the room, but before it settles in, Yoongi speaks again.

“Are we okay?”

The question rings in your ears for what seems like eternity, but you know it’s only a few moments before you answer.

“Yeah. We’re okay. I’m sorry about before New Years. I—” You feel your voice begin to wobble, and you take a deep breath. “I’ve had a lot of shit happen in the past year that’s really worn me down. It’s taking me a while to move on from a lot of it. Most of it.” Your eyes are wet and glassy. “All of it, honestly. It’s got nothing to do with you but, you ended up having to deal with it anyway.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“The long and short of it is simple. My ex left me in June after I got a diagnosis that he couldn’t work past. One that I couldn’t help, and couldn’t have prevented, though obviously he didn’t see it that way. I moved out the next day. Lived on a friend’s couch for a bit. Now I’m here.”

Yoongi is silent for a moment; stunned, perhaps, or angry. “Why would he leave you for a medical diagnosis?”

“He wanted to have kids. And with my body and the way it is, it’s not an easy guarantee. He didn’t even want to stick around to see what the meds would do.” Your voice is steady now, but the tears welling in your eyes have begun to flow. “I’m over him, I really am. He can rot in hell. I know I deserve better. But shit like that really shakes you, you know? My PCOS is treatable. My body just is the way it is. My size doesn’t dictate my worth. My health doesn’t dictate my worth. But I still just feel …”

“Unlovable?” Yoongi finds the word before you do, his low voice filling the void. He watches as you nod. His brow furrows. “Have you been dealing with this alone?”

You nod again as you start wiping the tears away, your eyes clenched shut as you hold back the deluge. How did you end up like this again? Is there something about this man that makes you cry? That compels you to let every thing go like this?

Suddenly, you feel hands on top of yours, large and calloused. They pull your hands away from your face. Yoongi has closed the gap, his dark eyes looking straight into you, as if he can see everything. The pain. The loneliness. The desire to be loved. He uses a knuckle to clear away one tear, then two, and each one that comes after. He might wear down your walls to dust, but at least he has the decency be there for you to cling to so you aren’t swept away.

“Hey, hey, you’re not alone,” he murmurs. It’s so intimate, him close like this, talking like that. “Not anymore. You have people in your life that really care about you, and everything that comes with you being you.”

You let yourself step forward into his arms, which he wraps around you without an ounce of hesitation. Your own arms lift to wrap around his neck and shoulders. One of his hands comes to rest at the small of your back, while the other one rubs comforting shapes into your back. His cheek, firm and finely angled, rests against your own. His skin is soft and warm, the same as his embrace.

How often is time going to suspend itself today? Will you owe this time back at some point? Feeling like this has to come at a cost.

Before long, Yoongi speaks softly into your ear: “I like you a lot, Y/N. You’re not unlovable, alright? Just so you know. Love’s a lot of things. You’re still worthy of all of them.” He pauses. “Platonic. Romantic. Especially your own self-love. All of them.”

“I know,” you murmur back. “It’s hard facing it all when you’ve done nothing but ignore it for months.”

“Yeah, maybe don’t do that next time,” he chuckles softly, still rubbing your back. “Sometimes we need a reminder that new people won’t kick us to the curb when they learn new things about us. People are shit, but not all of them are so bad.”

You hum in response. Words are becoming difficult to put together. You’re sure that Yoongi’s back rub isn’t supposed to be sensual at all. The feeling of his fingers moving up and down your body, however, isn’t easy to ignore. You feel yourself heating up underneath your clothes, craving his caresses. Are you really so starved for affection?

“Yoongi, you should really probably get going if you want to make it home before it gets really bad.”

His hand stops moving, and comes to a rest on top of the other. Now he’s just holding you, which might actually be worse.

He draws a way a little so you can look at each other. You don’t miss the way his eyes flit to your lips before returning to your gaze.

“Maybe this is a little forward, but—” He looks at your lips again. “I’m not sure if I can make it home in this mess. Or something.”

Oh thank fuck. He feels it too.

“Yoongi?”

“Hm?”

“Kiss me?”

“You sure? You sound unsure.” There’s a hint of teasing in his tone as he smirks at you.

“Kiss me, you idiot.”

His lips are on you like lightning, and it tingles as if the air itself has become electric. Gone is the timid beginning of a month ago. His mouth is open, the kiss wet, as if he’s trying to devour you from the start. His hands loosen and trail up to cup your face, brushing against your sides as he goes.

The room sways as he uses this leverage to move you backward to the counter. Unlike last time, you hardly feel the way the composite pokes your butt. You feel the way he presses his body against you, the heat coming off him in waves. It warms you through, as if there’s a burner beneath your bodies bringing everything to a simmer. The kissing is getting sloppy; your tongues, your bodies, everything between you trying to meld and become one.

“I want you,” he gasps, dragging his hips into your own, his thigh pressing against the warmth of your core. Something hard is pressing into the junction at your leg and torso. Yoongi’s breath fans across his your face as he groans with another grind. The sound has still more heat pooling in your abdomen. A hand sinks to grip the flesh of your ass through your jeans while the other caresses your neck. His thumb ghosts over your vocal box, and you shiver. Can he feel how wet you’ve become through your pants? Through his own?

“Fuck, please, I—”

There’s a knock on the glass door.

You jump out of your skin. Your heart pounds in your chest. There’s a rush of cold that floods your body as Yoongi springs away from you like a cat caught being naughty; you’ve never seen a grown man look so cowed before. His face is dusted with pink, his lips swollen and shiny. His eyes are so dark, but his is expression blank and confused as he breathes freely for the first time in several minutes. You’re sure you look a mess as well.

At the door, an older woman has her hands cupped around her eyes as she looks inside, probably to see if you’re open. The sign saying the shop closed early is right fucking there! Six inches below her face!! She’s leaving smudges on your (formerly) clean glass, damn it. Now there’s a man standing beside her too, having walked up seconds after the knock. It’s fucking snowing! Go home!

Shit! You’ve made eye contact. Now you have to go talk to them. The man waves at you impatiently.

“They won’t go away. I have to go talk to them,” you say quietly.

“Worst fucking timing. This is why I’m in repairs and not actual service anymore.” He looks and sounds legitimately angry, it’s almost scary. And rather hot, if you’re being honest. He shifts awkwardly and leans on the counter, his back to the storefront. His erection is still very evident beneath the fabric of his sweatpants. The tent’s size and shape make your mouth water.

“Go. The sooner you come back the sooner I can …” His eyes trail up and down your body hungrily. You get his point.

“It’ll just be a moment.”

---

Inviting Yoongi to your apartment is something you never thought you’d do again. You’d come to think second chances are the stuff of rom-coms and light novels. The universe had taken so much from you that you thought it was just the way of things. Yoongi is proof that it can also give back.

The walk is quick but cold. With no prompting, Yoongi takes your bare hand in his and tucks it into his coat pocket. The smile he gives you starts out shy; he can’t fight it becoming a full, gummy grin as he laughs at your blank stare of surprise.

“I like holding hands, what of it?”

You find yourself fighting the same smile as the two of you trot up the stairs. You fiddle with your keys, the cold having sapped the feeling from your fingertips, but soon enough, you’re walking into your tiny apartment, the warmth seeping into your clothes.

You coat doesn’t make it to the hook, and neither does Yoongi’s. The moment it’s off your shoulders, he’s behind you, pulling it off your arms and throwing it to the ground as he starts kissing the back of your neck. Every single hair on your body raises, goosebumps erupting; even your nipples pucker beneath your clothes.

“Y-Yoongi, I need to take off my boots.”

“Take them off, then,” he smiles into your skin. His hands are everywhere, your ass, your hips. They even move up your shirt and delicately play with the skin at the waistband of your jeans. You shiver when you feel his teeth graze your nape.

“I h-have to bend over to do it.” The quiver in your voice should be shameful, but you know it only gives him an outward sign of the inward fire he’s stoking within you. It’s as if the air itself is vibrating.

His voice is almost a growl. “Then bend over.”

You do as he directs, and bend over to start undoing the knots on your work boots. While you’re bent over he starts grinding into your ass gently, his hands groping at your hips. He’s rock hard already.

He hears the sigh you release shakily as you loosen the laces, and chuckles.

“Fuck, you’ve got the best ass,” he says as his hands continue to roam and grasp at your body.

You stand to start kicking your boots off, and he’s on your neck again, sucking little bruises into your shoulder. His hands are becoming bolder now, trading your ass for your high waist, thumbing at the bottoms of your breasts, brushing over the buds of your nipples. They move over the round swell of your belly to grab at your center over your jeans. All of your clothing is still intact but the way he’s running his fingertips over every undulation has you feeling utterly naked.

“Are your shoes off?” His voice is husky and low against your ears.

“Yes.”

He spins you around and starts to devour your mouth with his, pressing you back into the wall with his own body. His hands are fumbling with the fly of your jeans; you gasp when you feel him slowly lower the zipper. He pauses.

“Is this okay?”

For a moment, you’re dumbstruck, overwhelmed by the feeling of being enjoyed. Of being wanted. Of being asked if this is something you wanted. Your entire core throbs.

“Yes. Please.”

He finishes lowering the zipper and starts pushing your jeans down, while you start sucking on his lower lip gently. He pulls away with a quiet smack and starts trailing kisses down your face to your neck. And then he’s at your collarbone for a moment, nipping a bruise into your flesh, before dropping to his knees, taking your jeans down to your ankles. He looks up at you through the fringe of his dark hair before he pushes it out of his face.

You will yourself to relax as he reaches up to start pulling your underwear down. You should’ve worn something different, but all you’ve really got is plain cotton hipsters. You’ve always been too practical for the lacy things, not that they make them for bodies like yours anyway.

“Hey, babe, it’s just me,” Yoongi smiles up at you, as if he can sense the tension in your body. He places a small kiss on the swell of your abdomen, over the soft, striated skin. His fingers slip underneath the elastic of your underwear and start to pull it down. You part your legs a little to let the undergarment fall. “You’re beautiful.”

Fuck. The tears are beginning to well up again. His kisses travel lower, each place they land erupting with goosebumps. Heat has already begun to coil in your abdomen. This is so intense. This so much.

When he finally lowers his mouth to your folds, the sensation has you seeing stars. He slips his tongue into your flesh with ease, giving a few gentle licks before lifting your leg over his shoulder so he can pull himself closer.

“Relax babe. You’re fucking perfect. You deserve this,” he says as he starts to suck at your clit.

Your entire body goes tight, each muscle wound tight as you arch your back, pressing your core into his face. He laps up the motion with delight. You feel him smile into your mound.

“Fuck, so pretty for me, so fucking wet for me,” he mouths into you, each word vibrating in his throat and sending waves of heat to your toes. You let yourself wend your fingers through his hair, your nails raking over his scalp gently.

He groans into you. “Fuck.”

Pulling away for a moment to breathe, he looks up at you again. Your hands are still in his hair, his skin glazed with you. He looks so fucked out already.

He presses a kiss to your thigh, the one he’s got thrown over his shoulder. He nips lightly at the delicate skin, nuzzling the stretch scars before asking: “Can you take more?”

“Please.”

Before lowering his mouth again, he lets his free hand trail up your leg. The fingers press first at your clit, shooting pleasure through you, before he moves further back and presses a single finger into your hot, ready cunt. When he starts licking and sucking at your clit, the leg you’re still standing on almost buckles.

“You’re so responsive, fuck, I love it,” he murmurs between the movements of his tongue.

“Please, Yoongi—” Your plea is interrupted when he finds an especially sensitive spot inside you, and presses on it with the pad of his finger. Your legs begin shake and you nearly fall again.

“What is it, babe? What do you want me to do?”

“Can we move to the bedroom? My legs are jelly.”

He pulls away and smiles up at you, gently lowering your lifted leg to the floor. “Lead the way.”

Yoongi discards half of his clothes by the time you make it to your bed, revealing his naked torso with its mixture of soft and hard lines. His tiny brown nipples harden in the cold air, and you find yourself fixated on the soft trail of fine hair that disappears into his pants.

Just as you’re pulling the bedspread back, he’s behind you. Just as before, his hands roam everywhere they can reach as he sucks another bruise into your neck. His palms are warm as they push your shirt up.

“Raise your arms.”

And then you’re left in nothing but your plain, unlined bra.

“Fuck,” he sighs, when you turn to face him. “God, your tits are—” His fingers graze a nipple through the mesh. Your breath hitches. He smirks at your reaction as he wraps his hands about your waist, pressing his fingers into your flesh with care.

He pushes you forward, or you pull him down with you, you aren’t sure, but you become a tangle of limbs as you both fall to the bed. You can taste yourself on his lips, his tongue, you can feel how hard he is for you as he grinds his hips down onto your bare core. You’re so wet still, you can feel the way his sweats are becoming soaked.

“What do you need?” He grunts, lifting his lips from yours as he ruts into you again. “What do you want?”

You say it without hesitation: “Keep eating me out.”

With no reply but his signature cocky grin, Yoongi moves back down your body, his head replacing his hips within seconds. And suddenly, it’s like he never left your cunt.

Every lick, every kiss, every suck has you moaning. The press of his index finger into you has your hands in his hair again, the press of a second finger has you tightening around the intrusion. His free hand slips up your body and starts rubbing at your breast through the mesh supporting it, teasing the nipple so that he can grasp it through your thin bra and pinch.

He’s relentless when he begins to thrust his fingers inside you, suckling at your clit as he moves. You keen, your hips beginning to flex and grind of their own accord, desperately seeking the friction he is so willing to give to you.

“That’s it, babe, fuck yourself on my face like you deserve. So pretty for me.”

His fingers are long and deft; he’s found that spot again, and he strokes it every single time. The timing, the pulsing feeling of his movement inside you, the way his tongue moves against your clit, it all takes you higher and higher until suddenly, the wound coil snaps, and you’re coming on his fingers and tongue.

Time and space mean nothing. The only reason you’re certain you still exist is because of how your cunt pulses as Yoongi slowly pulls his fingers away. He laps gently at your folds, each pass making you shiver as you come down from the soaring high.

The aftershocks have your entire body shivering with the intensity of your release. As he moves back up your body, he gently fixes a fallen bra strap and kisses your cheek. That’s when you realize this orgasm has brought you to tears.

“You did so well for me, babe. So well,” he murmurs against your cheekbone as he settles against your side. With his clean hand, he wipes away at a tear. He’s still rock hard, his erection pressing into your hip from beneath his sweatpants.

“How do you want me?” You ask, your voice scarcely above a whisper.

“Where do I start?” Yoongi purrs, one of his fingers still playing with the elastic strap of your bra. “What do you like?”

His hand moves up to caress your neck you think, briefly wrapping around your throat before he strokes your jawline. Your whole body quivers as you whimper, “That. I like that.”

He smiles against your skin. You feel his cock twitch, still encased in his joggers. “Perfect.”

You lift your hand to palm him through the fabric. He groans into your neck. But it’s not enough; not for you, nor for him. You slip your hand down the smooth plane of his stomach, following the trail of hair down to wrap your hand around his cock. His groan turns to a hiss as you pump him once, a whine when you do it again.

“F-fuck, I need you, baby, I need to be inside you.” He’s beside himself, trying not to fuck himself into your fist. You continue to tease him anyway.

“Are you clean?”

“Yeah. You? Birth control?”

“IUD. And yes. What are you waiting for?” You respond, tightening your grip. You can feel the way he’s curved, and you clench with excitement.

With the rustle of shed clothing and a whispered swear, Yoongi is settling between your legs, spreading them so his hips can rut into yours freely. His cock is hot and flushed with color, the feeling of his bare flesh against your own making you both sigh into each other.

“You really want me to make a mess of you, hm?” He groans, propping himself up with his arms so he can watch the underside of his cock glide through your folds. “You want me to fuck this pussy so you can feel me drip out of you?”

You’re so gone for him. Your voice has become high and breathless. “Please. Make me yours.”

Yoongi guides himself into you, the stretch immediate and immaculate. It takes everything you have not to scream. It takes everything he has not to destroy you right then and there. It’s been so long, and he feels so incredibly perfect stretching you out like this.

“Pussy’s so fucking tight, babe, so perfect,” he says, making an experimental thrust. “And it’s mine.”

“All yours,” you whine as he sets his pace. No one has ever made you feel like this before. Singular. Desired. Like the object of lust you’ve always secretly wanted to be. Until now you’ve always felt like an afterthought, and you never want to feel like that again. Not after feeling like this.

He starts pumping his cock inside you, groaning as he feels your walls flutter to accommodate him. The way his flesh drags against yours is divine, the pressure exquisite. Yoongi drops to his elbows and grinds his length down into you, dragging his body along yours, making you cry out and clench around him. Your hands find their way to his ass and squeeze; you relish the feeling of his muscles moving beneath your fingertips.

“F-fuck,” he gasps. “This pussy was made for me. Can anyone else fuck you like this?”

“No! Just you, only you.” You’ve never talked like this in bed. There’s something about him that turns you into an utter mess; you crave it.

“Take it. Fucking take this cock. Fit around me so perfectly.”

His hand has made its way around your neck again. When he squeezes gently, you feel yourself smile at the sensation of being submissive. Those fucking hands can do whatever they want to you. You trust the person they belong more than words can say, and this is how you want to show him.

The sound of his hips smacking into yours is sending you into a spiral. Every touch, every squeeze is fanning the flames. His beautiful hand around your neck, the way his eyes close when you tighten around him, his perfect cock hitting every single spot it needs to and more.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect for me. Pretty baby’s all mine.”

It’s the way he’s talking to you that sends you over the edge of the cliff. And suddenly you’re free falling again. You feel yourself squeeze around him as the words come gasping from your lips: “I’m coming, I’m—fuck—”

You feel a gush as you cry out for him, and then a trickle of wetness falling down between your legs, soaking into the sheets. Every synapse in your body is lit like a bonfire, each nerve ending blazing with white-hot pleasure. The heat pooling where your bodies meet is now soaked in your aftermath.

Yoongi growls in your ear. No words. Just pure, unadulterated lust. Your chests are pressed together as he drops his head to mouth at you one last time, just as he takes off for the last of his stuttering thrusts. Each one pulls a whimper from you, your body sensitive and hot. With an airy moan he pumps one last time and then every muscle in his body pulls taught. He spills inside you, fully cloaked in your heat as he rides the wave and lets himself become empty.

For a moment, everything is silent as the world comes back into focus. You’ve closed your eyes to listen and recenter. It starts with the heavy sound of your breathing, and then the rustling Yoongi makes in the sheets as he gently pulls out of you with a hiss. You respond with a small whine at the sudden emptiness, and then a shiver when you feel his mess begin to drip out of you. Fingers carefully swipe at the trail and push it back inside your cunt. You keen, the intrusion unexpected.

“Good touch or bad touch?” Yoongi’s voice is low and raspy. He’s still recovering, just like you. When you finally open your eyes, you see that his gaze is glassy.

“Mm, good,” you reply, your throat feeling dry. “Are you alright?”

He sighs, swiping at his eyes with his other hand as he sinks into the bed beside you. “I’m fine. It was just intense. It’s been a while.”

“Mm.” Fuck, you’re tired. And you’re a mess. Your eyes flutter closed before you can register it.

“Hey, babe, you should pee before you fall asleep,” he murmurs into your ear as he sidles closer. His body is hot and comforting against yours in the cool air.

“Kind of hard when you’re trying to cuddle.” You drowsily press a kiss to his nose.

“Fine,” he laughs, flashing you that wide smile of his. “Let’s get cleaned up and then we can cuddle.”

“And we need to talk about dinner.”

“What are you talking about? I just ate.”

“You’re disgusting!”

“And you’re delicious! Bite me—Ow! I didn’t mean that literally and you know it!”

“I’m good at following directions. It’s not my fault you didn’t account for the unexpected.”

Yoongi laughs. “Okay, smartass. Go pee. I’ll strip the sheets.”

“Meet me in the shower?” You ask, pressing a kiss to his cheek before getting up and shedding your bra. Somehow it never made it off in all the excitement, but now gets to join the rest of the clothing on the floor where it belongs.

He turns his head and steals one more kiss before you leave. “Gladly.”

---

The last person Jimin expects to see walk into the shop early in the morning is Yoongi. It’s dead as fuck because of the snowstorm, and yet, he’s here. He looks soft and squishy, his eyes puffy as if he’s just woke up. His dark hair looks a little wonky, as if he slept on it while it was still wet. In spite of it all, he seems lighter than when Jimin last saw him.

It’s when Sarah passes him the drink order, an iced americano and a cappuccino with cinnamon, that he realizes something. You drink cappuccinos. And you’re the only one who ever only has just cinnamon on them.

Oh. Oh, this is amazing.

“Hi Yoongi, not sure I’ve seen you around this early before.”

“Uh, yeah, crashed at a friend’s because of the snowstorm last night. After the shit with the grinder. And stuff. You feeling better already?”

“Oh yeah, a little weird bodega food really clears out the pipes you know?”

Yoongi’s throat bobs as he swallows. “Uh, yeah, no, I don’t know stuff about pipes … or whatever. Not a doctor. Glad you’re feeling better though. I’ll have to tellll—” He blinks. “—my friend to avoid local BECs for a bit.”

Smooth. Really smooth. But not smooth enough.

As Jimin hands the drinks off to the machine tech, he notices the final fatal error on Yoongi’s part.

“Say hi to Y/N for us,” Jimin smiles.

Yoongi stands at the hand off plane for a moment, his mouth opening and closing a few times as he processes. When the words finally come, they’re barely audible.

“How did you know?”

“You’re wearing her sweats, my guy,” Jungkook shouts from the pourover bar, a big gleeful grin on his face as he looks over his shoulder.

“Mine got—”

“Oh boy, file that under things I do not care to know about,” Jimin cringes. “I’m sure you’re both freaks. Love that for you. You both deserve it. But I don’t need it in my brain. Have a good day off, and remember that if you break her heart, I’m not above casual murder.”

“Neither am I,” Sarah says without looking up from the task list.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less. And Jimin—” Yoongi turns one last time, walking backwards to the door so that he can made sure his words are heard. “Next time, just unplug the grinder. It’s easier than decalibrating the whole thing. She’d never think to look at the power source.”

It’s Jimin’s turn to let his mouth hang open, aghast that he’s been found out. Jungkook takes over, waving goodbye to Yoongi as the cafe door shuts behind him.

They watch Yoongi as he walks down the street to your apartment. His smirk disappears into a soft, shy smile, even in the cold, and then he’s out of sight.

“Who wants to text Mercedes the good news?”

Thank you for reading! drop me an ask and tell me what you think. find me in various places at my carrd :)

©miscelunaaa 2022. My work is only found on this blog and under my ao3 pseud. Do not, under any circumstances, copy or repost my work. Thank you.

posted: 2.24.2022

#bts fic #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #min yoongi fanfiction #min yoongi smut #min yoongi fic #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x plus sized female reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi x female reader #plus sized reader #possumswrite #miscelunaaa #i will give a the first person who reads this and guesses correctly which joke made husbeard laugh aloud correctly a requested drabble

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contentconsumer · 2 years

Text

that regulars friend

a/n: okay, so it’s a little long and not much happens, but i love this fic and was hoping to maybe make it a little series? If that’s something y’all would want? Let me know! word count: 2,256 (sorry) requested?: no! My requests are open though! Send em in pairing: druig X f!reader /barisita!reader summary: makkari was one of your favourite regulars at the coffee shop you worked at but her new handsome friend may take that spot especially when he offers to walk you home.

Your hands burnt slightly from the warm glasses they were holding, but you didn’t mind as it was cold outside anyway so it was bringing a sense of pleasure to your freezing knuckles. You continued to stack the clean glasses in your hands because no matter how often your co-workers tell you to use a tray, you were determined to carry the mugs stacked up to your chin with some of the handles clinging to your fingers. Walking back behind the bar you started to put the clean mugs away, carefully dodging your co-worker, Sam, who was trying to make a customer their cappuccino. “Steady,” Sam warns, “You know you should use a tray to carry them.” You giggle and roll your eyes, “m’aware Sam, thanks for the input though.” After finishing placing the cups into their places you turn to face Sam, getting ready to start an idle chat to pass the time. The coffee shop you worked at was relatively quiet which contrasted the busy highstreet outside but it’s why you loved it, the calm atmosphere makes it easy to people watch and lose yourself in a daydream. “If it isn’t my favourite regular” Sam calls making you turn around to face the door, there stood Makkari, she was a regular, someone who came in everyday and ordered the same oat milk latte, Makari was deaf you learnt through Sam, who knew some sign language meaning she mainly communicated with her but you never missed out on an opportunity to speak to your beloved customer as she was extremely talented at reading lips and due to this, you had picked up some basic signs such as “Hi Makkari! How are you?” which you signed to her now. Makari signed back to you telling you she was fine and asking how you were, “Well you know, same as always!” You reply with a faint smile. Sam and Makari got into a steady flow of conversation and you took this time to notice the figure next to her. A man. A very attractive brooding man.

The breath felt like it was knocked out of your lungs when you made eye contact with the stranger, you didn’t hold his gaze for long though as you blushed and looked away. “The usual and an Americano, black.” Sam hums before coming over to you on the coffee machine to give you a hand with coffee shots. “Who’s that?” You mumble to Sam, “her boyfriend?” This was the only conclusion you could come to, “No,” Sam chuckles, “she said he is one of her best friends, said they’re almost family.” You hum and tray up, placing the drinks in front of the pair, offering Makari and her ‘friend’ a friendly smile, “Enjoy” you chirp, wiping your stained hands nervously on your apron. “You think he’s cute” Sam teases after they walk away, “I do not!” You go to protest, but cracking immediately when you look at Sam, who was standing with her hands on her hips cracking a sly smirk at you, “Okay, maybe a little bit!”

Druig places the tray down on a table Makkari had picked out, he reclines into the chair and shrugs off his leather jacket, absentmindedly his eyes flicker back to the bar where you’re standing serving another customer and repeating the order to your coworker. He reaches for the warm mug of coffee, bringing it up to his lips he makes eye contact with his friend sitting opposite him, who’s flashing a teasing smile and raised eyebrows. “What?” Druig furrows his own eyebrows staring back at Makkari, who sighs before signing to him, “You should speak to her.” “What are you going on about?” “You’re clearly interested in her, why don’t you say something?” “What? I’m not interested in anyone, or anything for that matter” Druig huffs, “I come here everyday, she’s here most days, maybe you wanted to start coming with me more often?” “Makkari, I’m not interested in the girl.” he shakes his head trying to brush off her accusations but also trying to shake the feelings of nervousness in his stomach when he looks at you again, he thinks the humans called them ‘butterflies’. How ridiculous.

Sam and Makkari noticed it first. Way before Druig and yourself could admit it. You liked each other, like an embarrassing high school crush liked each other. Makkari was reluctant to ever say anything to Druig due to his defensive side, yet she couldn’t help but notice how he began to join her almost daily on her coffee run, whether they grabbed it to go or sat in for a couple of hours, Druig came along. Sam noticed how a light dusting of blazing red covered your cheeks everytime you noticed the mysterious man, especially when he would shoot you a quick lopsided smile.

One day Makkari flounced into the store, the small brass bell atop of the door ringing loudly, behind her Druig followed in tow, hands stuffed into that leather jacket he always seemed to be wearing. It’s only four in the evening but it’s winter and you’re in England, meaning it was beginning to get dark. You waved at the pair, not expecting a response from the taller counterpart and you must admit you were shocked when he pulled a hand out of his jacket to give you a small wave. A bright smile found it’s way on to your face and it stayed there as you walked out back, afterall your shift had finished for today. You hung your apron up and pulled your jacket and coat over you, shivering slightly and cursing Sam for refusing to put the heating on. You grab your keys and current book you were reading on your break before whizzing back to the bar saying bye to Sam, “Catch you later!” You call, “See ya Y/N, enjoy your day off” She throws back. Tomorrow was your first day off after you had been working 10 days non stop. You didn’t mind and loved your job but sometimes you needed a day to rest, recuperate and catch up on some household things like the ever growing pile of dirty washing in your bathroom.

You smile at your two favourite regulars as you leave, Makkari waving and you even get a head nod of acknowledgement from Druig. You didn’t notice how his eyes followed your figure as you left, but Makkari did and she couldn’t take much more of this pining. With a scrape of her chair she walked up to Sam at the bar, signing “I’ll be back in a second” To Druig’s curious expression. With determination she waltzed up to Sam, “Everything okay?” The barista signed when she noticed Makkari’s appearance. “They need our help.” Sam didn’t even need to ask who, she was already agreeing.

It began the next week, you were back working pretty much everyday, you let a tired yawn pass your lips from behind the counter, you were working a 12 hour shift today as one of your other co-workers phoned in sick and you didn’t have the heart to ask Sam to come in on her day off. It had been very busy at times but you were determined to get through the remaining three hours to end up home wrapped in a blanket watching some form of shit tv. “Tired?” You hear a thick accent question, you raise your head up to meet the gaze of what you can only imagine is a new customer, but are shocked when you see Druig, who, you had just realised, had never spoken before. A blush creeps up your neck as you process his accent, it was all very attractive and you cursed yourself for putting the heating on because was it always this warm? “A little yeah” You reply honestly, logging into the till to put his order in, “How come you’re not accompanied by Makkari?” “Oh she’s not feeling very well” “There must be something in the air, the person that was meant to close today but he phoned in sick too” “Does that mean you’ve been here all day?” Druig has a concerned look on his face, you laugh as it’s a regular occurrence when your whole cafe is nearon ran by teenagers, “Yeah 6:30 this morning until 6:30 this night.” “I thought you closed at 6?” “We do but I need an extra half hour to close up and lock the door etc” You get started on his drinks and eagerly continue the conversation, desperate to his his accent, “It’s just annoying I walked to work instead of drove as I thought I was finishing early” To be truthful you were dreading the walk home in the freezing winter air, not to mention you also happened to forget your coat this morning. “Won’t it be dark?” Druig questions concerned about you walking the streets at night, “Yeah probably but it’s just one of those things - all ready” You sigh and place the two takeaway cups on the counter. “I can walk you.” The offer seems to surprise both of you, like Druig couldn’t control what he was saying, “Um okay, as long as you’re fine with it?” “Of course” A large grin stretches over his features, “See you at 6” “6:30” You try to correct him but he’s already gone.

And sure enough, he was there at 6, he even helped you clear some tables before walking home with you. The walk was comfortable and you both got along well, interested to learn more about the other as well as laughing at each others dumb jokes or stories. Once you got to your flat you were tempted to ask him if he wanted to come inside for a bit but held your tongue - what if he wasn’t interested in that way? He could have just been being polite, you brushed it off and bid him farewell, of course after exchanging numbers on the promise he would let you know when he got home and you would tell him if you ended up in this situation again.

‘Back home. Xx’ You had been staring at the text on your screen for 10 minutes, what do you reply? Did he mean the kisses? You even sent a screenshot to Sam to ask her what you should reply but she was no help due to her insisting you send some form of cringy pick up line. ‘Good to hear, see you tomorrow? Xx’ You typed out slowly before hitting send and throwing your phone away, it was stupid how this grown man made you feel so immature, unsure on your emotions - the thought of seeing him more often and speaking to him personally made you feel slightly giddy. Your phone buzzed - ‘Of course you will. Xx’

A couple weeks passed and yourself and Druig only grew closer, you began texting regularly and he found himself speaking more when he visited you at work, your relationship bloomed into one full of flirty banter which you both loved, but both Makkari and Sam hated, both trying to force their friends to make a move. But both of you were too scared of rejection, Druig didn’t make friends often so he didn’t want to ruin what you had created and you were mortified at the thought of him rejecting you and then having to make his coffee everyday.

That was until you finally got the balls to man up and ask him if he wanted to come inside after he walked you home which conveniently began to happen more often as Sam began telling you she had to run off to various appointments/was very busy after work so couldn’t even offer you a lift back and Druig began coming in without Makkari telling you she would go on walks and simply text him to pick up a coffee for her return. This evening you two had been discussing the Hunger Games trilogy and Druig shyly told you he had never seen it to which you replied “No way! You've gotta come inside to watch the first movie!” Trying to ignore how fast your heart was beating you looked through your lashes at Druig who was smiling down at you, “Okay” he grins.

And that's how you ended up wrapped in a blanket, slightly too close for two friends but neither of you daring to cross the invisible border of actually acknowledging the possibility of being more.

You didn’t know when you fell asleep, but nothing quite prepared you to wake up to your alarm still in your clothes from the day before, with Druig’s arm wrapped around your waist firmly. He mumbled something inaudible as you turned the alarm off - you forgot to turn it off yesterday and now you were awake at 5AM on your day off yet the most obscure part was Druig still being here? Maybe it was because you were too tired to think about the consequences of your actions or because you really wanted to kiss him but your body gravitated back towards the warmth of his arms and you snuggled back into his chest, placing a chaste kiss to his neck. You considered the fact that perhaps he had fallen back asleep but these thoughts were diminished immediately when you felt him press a kiss on your forehead and mutter “Go back to sleep.” You heard his breaths quickly become laboured and soon enough you felt yourself slip back into a peaceful slumber.

... part 2?

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