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#If your not a popsicle or a potato I want nothing to do with you
smugraccoon137 · 2 years
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So does anyone else go through a really tough food period when the seasons change? Cus every time summer hits instead of just changing what I eat, I just don't want to eat at all.
Curious if this happens to anyone else. Also whatr your summer foods? I can't seem to want to eat anything that's not a popsicle.
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d0youc0py · 1 year
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hiii, i love your writing, and i saw your requests were open, so i wanted to send one your way! 💞 could you write something about a civilian reader who has to take care of ghost while he’s recovering from an injury? price sent him home to heal because he knew reader wouldn’t put up with his nonsense.
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He hated it. Fine- hate was a strong word. Uncomfortable. That’s better. He felt unnatural. A man of his size being treated as though he was a fragile little newborn. He was mad at Price. Sending him home when he was perfectly capable of healing and finishing his mission.
“Do you want another popsicle?” Your voice rang from the doorway. He cringed inside.
“No.” He responded bluntly.
“Simon don’t be this way.” You pleaded. He shut his eyes tightly knowing if he so much as caught a glimpse of your soft eyes he’d cave. “You need to keep your fluids up- and no whiskey does not count.” You cut yourself off when you saw his mouth begin to open. You sat on the edge of the bed and traced your finger from the bridge of his nose all the way down his chest, then his stomach, stopping right above the waistband of his sweats. His eyes flung open.
“Do you want to come help me with dinner?” You asked softly. His eyes lit up. This was the first time since medical leave you’ve treated him like a functioning human being. He nodded his head. As he sat up pain shot through his abdomen, he quickly cut his pained groan off not wanting to deter your decision. He was surprised when you didn’t move to wrap an arm around him to push off from the bed. He swallowed back another pained groan. His head spun. He teetered but quickly found his footing and followed you willingly to the kitchen. You and Simon were never a big fan of cooking, but you found that when you did it together it really wasn’t something to dread. His eye twitched as he caught site of the twelve different flower arrangements Johnny had sent to tease him.
“Steak and salad.” You said grabbing the ingredients out of the fridge.
“Steak and baked potato.” He argued. You chuckled and shook your head.
“Can you grab a pan please.” You requested. He hummed to show he heard you but suddenly stopped. All the pans you owned were in the cabinet under the counter. He would have to bend over. The knife wound on his hip throbbed at just the thought of it.
“Sweetheart.” He said softly.
“Oh right silly me.” You brushed passed him and grabbed the large pan with ease. “You’re in charge of steak, I’m in charge of salad.” You ordered, handing him the pan. He nodded his head. He hated being helpless. His tense muscles relaxed at the sound of your gentle humming. This was what he lived for. The gentle domestic moments like this. You just being yourself- and letting him just bask in it. Heat flowed through this chest and crawled its way up to his ears and back down to his toes. He wiggled his toes in his socks. He snapped himself out of it and reached up to grab some seasoning, forgetting the seven inch gash in his side. He hissed and grabbed the counter. “Si.” You whispered softly. Your hands pressed themselves against his shoulder blades and you rested your forehead against his back. “You’re not okay.” You started. “We all know you can push through the pain, but why should you? You have nothing to prove to me.” You pressed a kiss against his back. Your fingers massaged themselves into his shoulder muscles. “You always take care of me, let it be my turn.”
“That’s not your job.” He grumbled. You could tell your words had impacted him. His voice broke slightly.
“No it’s not my job. I’m doing it because I want to.” You hummed pressing a few more kisses into his back. Between the kisses and your fingers digging into his shoulders he was putty in your hands. “Go lay down on the couch please.” You murmured against his skin. “You can have one whiskey after dinner, but only if you behave. Captains orders.” You whispered the last part in his ear and bit at it softly. He couldn’t contain the shiver that ran through his body and dutifully did as you asked of him.
Price could handle Ghost- but only you could handle Simon.
Thank you for all your kind words! And thank you for being my first request! 💚
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blindmagdalena · 6 months
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I’m in dire need of angst. How do you think he would react to someone who didn’t have a close relationship with their parents? I’m just imagining an awkward Christmas dinner, their family totally sucking up to Homelander. But also not-so-subtlety making passive agressive/snarky comments towards the reader.
It was definitely his idea to go to Christmas dinner in the first place. You've been dreading it. He insisted, though. You don't want to deny him this when he doesn't even have a family, and he's clearly so excited by the prospect of it.
And to be fair, it started off well enough. Your family was so excited to meet Homelander. They couldn't believe this was really happening!
It didn't last long, though. Your dad just had to make an offhanded remark about how you sure were "dating up."
That was the beginning of the end.
Through the night, Homelander grows gradually less boisterous. He's talking less, listening more. You're uncomfortable, dejected, but ultimately you knew it would end up this way. You just wish he would have listened to you.
By the time dinner rolls around, the tension in the air is palpable. Homelander has stopped preening under the praises of your family. You want nothing more than to eat and leave.
The final straw is when your mother sneaks in a snipe about how you "Really could have dressed up for the occasion."
"Well, Sheryl," Homelander begins, his tone immediately catching the attention of the entire table. "You could have tasted the mashed potatoes before you salted them into an inedible sodium fuckfest, but hey, I guess that's beyond your scope of competence."
The silence is deafening.
He isn't done. "God, y'know. You people. You had one job. All you had to do was be good. Nice. Shovel some food into your face and not be total fucking pricks at every available moment, but y'couldn't even manage that. Y'had to air out eeevery single little nitpick and grievance that sprang into your circus peanut brains."
You're stunned, jaw hanging. Your mother's expression mirrors yours. With a noise of indignation, your father begins to stand.
"Sit the fuck down, Henry," Homelander snaps with a flare of crimson to his gaze that puts a shiver down your spine. It works. Your father sits, and the light fades away. "Now that's the smartest thing you've done all night. Didn't think you had it in you."
Homelander pushes his mostly full plate away and sighs, picking up the napkin from his lap to fold. "I was the one who asked to come here, y'know. Practically begged. Thought Christmas might just be a grand ol' time. Do you know how often I'm wrong? I'll give you a hint: it's not often. But you..." He wags his finger between them, smiling more maliciously than you've ever seen him. "You folks really got me tonight."
He stands up. Your heart is pounding in pure anxious adrenaline. For a moment you have a terrible vision of him leaving you here, furious with them and you that this wasn't the experience he had been hoping for.
His hand in your face snaps you out of your thoughts. You look up sharply, and see him looking down at you, that wicked expression suddenly much softer. Kind, even with that anger still simmering under the surface. You close your mouth and take his hand, swallowing.
"Lucky for me I already got my Christmas wish, hmm?" He says, offering you a little wink. "You are... perfect," he says, leaning in to press a tender little kiss to your forehead, emphasizing it with a pointed mmmwuah. "No idea how you escaped all that unscathed," he says, nodding his head in your parents' direction. "So, how about you and I blow this popsicle stand and go find a whooole lotta mistletoe to stand under?"
You exhale a breathless little laugh, tears prickling hotly at your eyes, overwhelmed by how thoroughly he came to your defense. "I'd really, really like that."
Glancing over, Homelander offers your parents one last tight, venomous little smile. "Merry Christmas, you miserable fucks."
Which is exactly how he signs every single Christmas card he maliciously sends your parents each year from that day forward.
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callsigns-haze · 5 months
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Pretty like a crime
Chapter 2
Pairing: Agent Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Singlemom! Agent Y/n 'Cobra' Y/l/n
Word count: 2.8k
A/n: This is the second post to my new series so please be nice! I'm going to try to make this into a series so please show this story a bit of love and reblog!
Summary: Cobra is finally back on the agency and is finally back in the job. With Kai at home she has to jumble being a mother and a agent. She's sent to her first U.C mission but never thought that she would meet a blonde, green eyed Texan...
Warning: Mentions of gun use, ptsd, mentions of death, mentions of shooting, flirting, mentions of abuse
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"Remember, stance, elbows out to the side and focus," your dad said from behind you as you hold the loaded gun, aiming at the target as he instructs you. Your dad, working as a cop caused him to train his little girl to be safe, even if it was the weirdest way that turned out to be shooting from a gun.
"Focus, Y/n! This is not a game that if you miss you're out. You miss you and you're gone." And at that you pull the trigger back, the bullet leaving the gun and going straight through the centre of the target, with a big echoing bang.
"Amazing kid," he says leaning down to kiss your cheek as you hand the gun back to him. He was proud of you and knew your mother would be too. He raised his daughter to grow up to be strong, independent and smart, but to him most importantly he wanted you to be able to defend yourself.
"Thanks pops," you say as you smile even though the December cold air hits your cheeks, in a prickling sensation and the tip of your nose could turn blue. It was just a couple days before Christmas and your dad knew he'll be in and out of the base so he decided to spend some time with his little girl. Most fathers would bring their daughters shopping, play with dolls, do tea parties but the two of you preferred this beyond comparison.
"Come on kiddo, let's get you inside before you freeze to a popsicle," he told you while wrapping his arm around your shoulder and tickling one of your ears causing you to push him away in laughter. This causes your own father to laugh and for the fun of it he throws you onto his shoulders like a potato sack causing the two of you to laugh harder.
------
That was the last time you properly saw your father. Now it was two days after his shooting, causing you to become an orphan. You didn't know what to think and how to act. There was a lump in your throat every time you tried to speak. There was the feeling of nausea every time someone tried to get you to eat.
Why would someone shoot a cop? Why would someone shoot a cop with a family, right before Christmas?
Sarah and Tom. Your uncle and aunt who have become your legal guardians have brought you back now to your home where you used to live with your father. It didn't feel like home anymore which made moving into their home a little easier. It'd never be home again without him.
Sarah was helping you pack bit by bit while Tom was cleaning downstairs in the living room and kitchen. The two of them have been so kind to you but all you've done is push them away but they understand. You've lost your mother, now a father so they knew you needed space and when you'll be ready you'll come to them.
You excused yourself from Sarah asking if you could go to your dad's bedroom alone and she respected your wishes saying she'll head downstairs to her husband.
Entering the room was a weird experience. It was the same room, nothing changed yet it still felt different. You look around and remember your dad's voice in your head repeating in your head, the same lines he said to you ever since he taught you how to shoot.
'Kiddo, if I ever don't make it back home-'
'Dad, I know the gun will be in the bottom drawer, stuck to the bottom all I have to do is take it out-'
'Promise me kiddo no matter who or where you'll end up, you'll bring the gun and key to the load storage and protect yourself.'
'I promise.'
That night yo---
That was not a dream but not a nightmare. Something like that would be considered a flashback. Like a night flashback snap of true events. It was terrifying, your brain being so unsure and aware at night that it goes back to memories that haunt you and before the flashback ends they cut off randomly.
6:03am.
The clock on your bedside table clearly states it's too early to be awake. You lean back down sighing back into your pillow and turn onto your back. As you stare at the ceiling, thoughts from all around your head start to move. Especially last night, back to meeting the dagger squad and that green eyed Texan who you'll be working with from now on.
You hear the tiny footprints at your door as it's slowly pushed open revealing a little brown haired boy with his teddy bear in his arms as he stands at your doorframe, "Mommy? You awake?" The three year old's tiny voice slowly echoes around the room and you sit up against your bedframe. "Come here baby, come to mommy," you tell him as you lean your arms out to the side of the bed which he runs to and you boost him up onto the bed. You lift the duvet and the little boy squiggles under lying down on your chest. You run your fingers through the little brown locks as you feel Kai's heartbeat against yours.
"What happened, baby?" You ask him as he looks up at you with those little brown eyes looking up at you. "I just miss you, mommy," he told you hugging into your chest even more. He was too small to understand the world, too innocent for it all which made your eyes water slightly. "Oh baby, I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere," your voice was soothing and calm causing Kai to settle down his unstable breathing and the light watering in the eyes of his own. Gently tugging through his curls the boy slowly falls asleep.
You wanted to cry because of all this. Kai doesn't know what happened to his daddy or why the two of you moved here and it crushed you that he was way too young to understand. He didn't know about your job and didn't know why his mommy couldn't have put him to bed last night. You wanted him to escape the past and have a better and bright future.
His father, Matthew, never hurt him, he just hurt you. At least you knew he'd never lay a finger on Kai. There were situations where he didn't take care of him like when he was 1 years old, Matthew left the little boy without changing his diaper for hours. Or that he'd just put him to bed and deal with him like that, putting him in his crib even if he had just woken up to get rid of him. But he'd never hit him.
Your eyes slowly started to close and your breathing slowly evened out. You yourself were slowly falling back to sleep but this time with the comfort of your little boy with you. This time you feel asleep more secure.
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9:57am.
It was a late time for Jake to awake but it was his day off and a day after the party so he decided to finally lie in. On most days off he'd already be back from a run with the dog, showered, ate breakfast and maybe even gone to the gym but this time he just spent it in bed. He knew that if he properly opened his eyes he wouldn't be able to fall asleep again so he'd been rolling around the bed for minutes to find the new position to  fall asleep in but Bradley did not keep that in his plans.
"BAGMAN! PHOENIX AND BOB ARE ABOUT TO COME OVER!" Rooster yelled from the other side of the apartment as Jake groaned. There goes the rest of his sleep in.
He sits up in bed leaning back on his arms, rubbing one of his eyes from sleep. He looks around his room to find his suit from the previous night on the floor from when he came in he was too tired to do anything else than fall asleep.
He slept just in boxers causing him to feel exposed to the cold air outside the cozy and warm duvet. He shifts to his wardrobe grabbing some sweatpants and socks slipping them on and opening his bedroom door to getting tackled. "Alfie, down boy. Down," he instructed the over happy dog as it sat down causing Bradley to groan as Jake rubbed behind the dogs ears.
"I swear you trained that dog to not listen to me," Bradley says from the couch. "Well Bradshaw, I think you just lack the charm," he snapped back smirking as he mad his way over to the kitchen, shirtless, grabbing water from the fridge as Alfie followed his moves like his shadow.
"Can't you ever put on a shirt? Like for Christ sake, people are coming," Bradley sighs as he sees Jake yet again shirtless. "Sorry my apologies, I forgot that baby on board was coming, gotta keep it pg," Bradley groaned which caused Jake to laugh more. "Jesus Jake." "Oh come on, you gotta admit that was a good one." The blonde says as he goes over to the dryer, taking out a black t-shirt and putting it on over his head as Alfie nudges his leg.
"You wanna go on walkies? Do you want to walkies, boy?" Jake asked and the golden retriever barked up at him. "I take that as a yes, let's go."
---------
"Mommy when are the pancakes ready?" The young boy groaned for the millionth time in the minute from his food chair, demanding his breakfast. "In a bit, buddy! You have to wait a sec," you say flipping the pancakes while quickly walking over to the fridge to grab the maple syrup and grab Nutella from the counter. "Chocolate or maple, Kai?" You ask your son what he wants his strawberry pancakes with. "Choc," he decides as you slide the pancakes of the pan, applying a light layer of Nutella on them.
"Thank you, mommy," you smile and kiss the top of his head from behind him, "No problem, buddy." You go back to the cooker turning everything off and putting the pan and mixing bowls in the dishwasher as you eat a pancake of your own, while organizing everything away.
You loved mornings like this. You could spend the whole day with your son and spend time together even through the littlest things. "Kai, do you wanna go to the park after we get you cleaned up and then we can go shopping, since mommy needs to get things for dinner." You tell the boy, proposing to go to the park before so he could use up the energy he just took in from the sweet and sugary breakfast.
"We can go to the river!" He says happily. The big park, a bit away from your house has a very small river running through it and it's one of Kai's favorite things to see. Your kid really likes nature but he adores dogs, which to you seems hilarious since every time he sees a dog he asks the owner to pet it, even if the dog is bigger than him.
"Okay so how about you finish your breaky and we can go. How does that sound?" You ask as the young boy eagerly nods his head up and down scoffing down his pancakes.
-------
You make it down to the river and it's calm and peaceful. Most people are at work so it's quite empty but a bit more enjoyable than many people everywhere. "Mommy look a big bird!" Kai exclaimed as he pointed into a tall tree jumping up and down. " Yeah it is big buddy, it's a heron," you tell him, as he looks up at it. "It has a very long neck," Kai says complete fascinated it the creature. "It does doesn't it," you say as the two of you link hands again and continue to walk on.
Your laugh fills the air, as a dog runs up to you and Kai with the light hairs, yet yellow, dog still wagging its tail at you. "Hey girl. . . boy?" you quietly coo to the dog as you pat its head and Kai goes into full rubbing in love mode. The golden retriever shakes its body, revealing it's light blue collar to you as Kai is having the best time. You rub the dogs head and place your hand under the dog tag. Alfie.
"Mommy can we keep him! Can we keep him please!" Kai whines as the dog leans against him asking for more rubs from the boy who's shorter that the dog. Kai has begged for a dog and has been obsessed with them from a young age but your apartment is too small for a dog and you haven't go the time.
"I'm sorry buddy but he's already got a family," you say as Alfie gives off a small whine, and tips his head down like he's embarrassed. You pet his head again and he lays his head down on your lap to rest. The collar and dog tag appear again, except the other side shows with a number.
~If lost, call ***-***-***** thanks~
Aww man, he's has an owner. Well, it explains the dog collar, and name, and being so kind to you. "Alfie, there you are! I have been looking everywhere for you boy," a blonde exclaims as he walks up closer to you. Great, he's his owner. "Cobra-" "Pleasure to see you again, Jake," you say, looking up at him smiling. Your smile beat in him like a small love explosion. A grin makes everything around it disappear, bright soul-lights are that way but he's still surprised by the little boy on your right.
Jake smiled down at him in a reassuring way. Jake always had a good hand with children, it's just the way he's been but knowing that the woman he may be starting to catch feelings for, it somehow doesn't have him turning away, "And who's this little guy?" He inquires and you beckoned Kai to come a bit forward but he stops right behind you. "This is Kai, my son." He get's a bit shy and intimidated while meeting new people he's never seen before but once he gets to know them he fully opens up. Kai held onto your hand and peeked up at Jake.
“Hi there, Kai,” Jake said with a smile, kneeling down in front of him so that they were level. “My name is Jake.” Kai looked back at him with his bid doe eyes as he hid a bit behind you. "Don't worry buddy," you say calmly, as you gently brush your hand through your little boys hair. "Jake is my friend from work." Your son looked up at you and tugged your hand as a gesture to get you to lean down. You leaned down and Kai whispered in your ear, you nod and turned to Jake with a smile.
"Jake, Kai says he really likes your dog." Jake chuckled and nodded and playfully answered, "He's an awesome dog, sometimes he helps me out work." “Does he?!?!” Kai exclaimed with a giggle but stopped herself suddenly, as if he had just been caught doing something wrong. He tilted his head to the side, studying Jake, and then stepped in front of you, noticing that he was pretty much harmless. “Can i pet him again?” He asked shyly in a quiet voice. Jake’s eyes flickered up to you and you both smiled warmly. “I’d bet he'd love another rub,” Jake replied back, looking at Kai. He broke out into a genuine smile and spun on his heel, rubbing Alfie again.
After a quick rub and a quite long but loving conversation with Jake , you finally say goodbye to Jake and Alfie and head with Kai back home. You walk down the street feeling rough cracks through thin soles, the wind moving as if it weren’t there at all, as if it were a ghost and nothing more.  Outside the sidewalk that will bustle in a few short hours is quiet, the concrete oblivious to whether it is midday or midnight. Your face smirks upward at the sight of the flower planter to the right, the city has put in new blooms that will give us flashes of sunny yellows and hot pinks through the springtime. If you stop walking right now you can almost hear the heartbeat of the city, quiet, like the ticking of an old Grandfather clock. Though you're in no hurry you keep walking with your baby boy, the apartment isn't your destination, just a microcosm of the shortest happy memories with Jake...
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thebisexualdogdad · 2 years
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Best year yet - Harvey Kinkle x M!reader
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Despite living in different towns you and Harvey had known each other for most of your lives due to going to the same sleep a way camp every summer.
This year however was different.
This year you two were both counselors instead of attendees, which you had always talked about doing once you were old enough.
You and Harvey had been crushing on each other for years but were always too afraid to confess your feelings except this year Harvey finally kissed you when you were alone in the kitchen making sandwiches for your kids before a hike.
You didn't have a chance to talk about the kiss because your co-counselor Jake walked in to tell you to hurry up since the kids were getting antsy to go on the hike.
You and Harvey kept glancing at each other and smiling throughout the hike, sitting next to one another during the lunch break, subtly touching in any way you could.
By the time your two cabins made it back to camp your kids were set to go to the arts and crafts room while Harvey's hit the archery area before dinner.
"Meet me at the lake after lights out," Harvey whispers to you.
You were not paying attention to the crafts at all, too busy thinking about Harvey.
"You know you're supposed to actually paint something on that rock right?" One of your kids laughs.
"Guess I'm a little beat from that hike," you chuckle.
"Keep up Y/L/N I've already made an entire house of popsicle sticks," Jake cracks, proudly holding up his creation.
"Alright campers time to get cleaned up for dinner," one of the adult camp organizers Mr. Walker says, peeking his head into the room.
You and Jake managed to get your rambunctious kids to the dining hall and only slightly covered in the glue and glitter.
Harvey and his cabin were sitting at their designated table across from you and the two of you couldn't stop looking at each other during dinner.
"What's up with you and Kinkle," Jake asks.
"Nothing- I- I don't know what you're talking about," you ramble hoping none of the kids heard him.
"Chill out Y/N it's cool, I've seen you guys giving each other heart eyes all day, just makes me miss my girl back home," he shrugs.
"Can we keep this between us, the last thing we need is some of the parents making a big deal about it," you say.
"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me," he winks at you, taking a bite of his apple.
"Y/N has a secret?? What is it??" One of your kids ask.
"Mind your business Patrick and eat your mashed potatoes," Jake replies and you laugh.
Lights out eventually comes around and all the kids are fast asleep in their bunks.
"Hey Jake, you mind if I… step out for a bit," you ask him.
"Go ahead, if anyone comes looking for you I'll tell them you're on night patrol duty," he says, "don't want any bears coming into camp now do we."
"Thanks man I owe you one," you say and head to the lake.
It's dark out and your flashlight is running low on battery, flickering on and off when you hear a rustling noise from the bushes.
"Harvey?" You ask when a raccoon runs out from the bush but a hand taps your shoulder and scares you, "jesus!"
"Sorry, sorry it's me," Harvey apologizes.
"Hey," you say shyly, you're heart racing and not just from being scared.
"Hey," he smiles.
He wastes no time and just grabs your face to kiss you.
It's long and slow and everything you've wanted to do for years.
"I've been waiting all day to do that," he says when he pulls away.
"Well we can keep doing that if you want," you say nervously.
"I'd like that," he says, taking your hand and guiding you to the towel he had set up in the sand on the edge of the lake.
You lay back and Harvey settles on top of you, kissing you more deeply this time.
Your hands explore his back and Harvey grinds his hips down into yours.
He kisses your neck and your hands slip under his shirt, running over his stomach.
Your erection grows in your shorts and Harvey can definitely feel it, turning him on even more.
"Harvey," you groan, "maybe we should slow down… what if someone catches us we can get in serious trouble."
"I really want to go down on you," he says.
How could you possibly say no to him when he tells you that and you are so turned on its all you want.
You gulp and nod, Harvey smiles and makes his way down your body.
He undoes your shorts and your hard cock slaps against his cheek.
"God you are so hot," he says, taking you in his hand.
You couldn't believe this was happening right now, Harvey Kinkle the guy you had crushed on since you were eleven was actually touching you.
His lips find the tip of your cock, teasing you painfully slow.
He licks and kisses at the shaft, swirling his tongue over the tip tasting the pre cum leaking from you.
Harvey grins when you let out a loud moan, your thighs clamping down and holding him in place.
"Harvey please," you groan and he smiles before wrapping his lips around you.
He's bobbing his head with his hand making shallow strokes at the base and it's driving you crazy.
This surely couldn't be the first time he's done this, he's way too good and he's got nearly your entire cock in his mouth.
As hard as you tried to hold on you couldn't help yourself, cumming right in his mouth.
"Oh shit, oh shit," you mutter.
Harvey spits out your cum into the sand, a proud smirk on his face.
"I was so good you couldn't even last ten minutes," he teases you.
"Sorry," you chuckle, "guess I got a little overwhelmed being the first time not getting off to my own hand."
"I'm glad I could be your first," he smiles.
"Can I uh… go down on you too?" You ask nervously while you put your cock back in your shorts.
"I would love that," he says, attempting to take his own shorts off but there's a light flashing down the lake path.
"Go hide in the bushes," Harvey tells you.
You scurry to the bushes and see Mr. Walker approaching Harvey.
"I thought I heard something down here, what are you doing out of bed Mr. Kinkle?" Walker asks him.
"Sorry Mr. Walker after the hike I took today I felt like taking a little late night swim," he lies.
Walker looks around but doesn't see you and with the towel on the ground Walker choose to believe Harvey.
"I'll let it go this time but you know the rules, not even counselors can be out after lights out unless your on patrol, get back to your cabin," he says.
"Yes sir, won't happen again," Harvey apologizes.
Harvey leaves with Walker and you wait a few minutes for the coast to be clear so you can sneak back to your cabin.
Jake is still awake when you return and has a knowing look on his face.
"Looks like you had fun" he smirks.
"You can say that," you smile.
This year was definitely the best year yet.
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Text
7th Dimension (Chapter 7.8)
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7TH DIMENSION MASTERLIST (ALL CHAPTERS)
PREVIOUSLY ON CHAPTER 7.7
7TH DIMENSION WATTPAD VERSION LINK (I am entirely ahead on this site now. 7th Dimension on Wattpad has now accumulated more than 10 chapters. There are minimal scenes back in the previous chapters which has been altered there, so sorry about to those who only read my updates through Tumblr because there might be some differences in Satoru's characteristics which has been changed on Wattpad already, yet y'all are bound to read the altercations in further chapters. Heehee.)
。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜゜。。+゜
Characters: Gojo Satoru x Small!Naive!Fem!Foreign!Reader | THIS IS A MULTI-CHAPTER FIC. THIS IS AN X READER FANFIC WHO HAS BEEN BROUGHT TO THE DIMENSION OF JUJUTSU KAISEN | (Trust me, you'll live. I hope?)
Summary: (Part 9) Mind Training with Gojo Satoru had been beneficial to the both of you. You were given a mission to bake him sweets and in return of earning a 10/10 rating from the Great Teacher Gojo would result for a Shopping Spree treat from the Strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer alive. Additional Summary for this chapter: From your transference of your world to Satoru's have been actually forecasted by an undisclosed diviner that obscured his prophesies in the dark. Nonetheless, what was meant to be envisioned for you had all been a trifling matter because he had seen nothing but a nullity of a future set out as you walk upon Satoru's dimension. Except for the fact that Fukumoto Daichi knew you also were an erudite when it came to the happenings that was set forth for the Jujutsu Society in the near future.
Warnings: Fukumoto Daichi is not a character from Jujutsu Kaisen along with Sasaki Hibito as well. They're both OG characters created by me. | Satoru's still being Satoru. Other than the menace being a menace, none. Just a lil' bit suggestive somehow because Satoru's sexy as heck---*rolls on the ground*
7th Dimension Taglist: @dailystsg (Send me an ask or message if you want to be added or removed, bb's!)
A/N: FEEDBACKS HELP A LOT FOR A WRITER.  REBLOGS, RESPECTFUL MESSAGES SENT THRU ASKS AND COMMENTS MAKE MY HEART TINGLE AND SQUEAL, ISTG. 💙 I DO APPRECIATE THEM ALL. I sincerely apologize how long chapter 7 is. There's another part which is 7.9 but don't worry because it'll be the last part before chapter 8. Thankies! Heehee.
SORRY IF THERE ARE LOTS OF TYPOS AND GRAMMAR ERRORS WITH EVERY CHAPTER I WRITE. I ain't a professional writer! I'm just a potato-hoe! LMAO.
Words: 5.4k+
Disclaimer: PNG's or pictures used in edits, also those posted are not mine especially the GIF's. (I dunno how to make GIF's 😭 Tell me if the GIF's are yours so I could probably tag/credit you, bb's!) I only own the plot of 7th Dimension. But, not Jujutsu Kaisen's storyline and the characters themselves. OG characters are created by me and will be stated during my brief author's notes. I apologize for the typos or grammatical errors by the way! English isn't my first language so I'm so sorry in advance! Character development and personalities are based from my understanding and how I want them to be for the sake of the story.
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YOU'VE PATIENTLY WAITED FOR THE TRAIN ON THE SIDE. Another ice-lolly on hand that Satoru has promised to invest you in. His own strawberry popsicle guzzled within seconds. As expected from an unusual man who had a terrible, gnarly sweet-tooth. There wasn't much people that bordered. The veiled excitement balling upon your soles, making you senselessly wriggle those toes of yours inside your shoes, playing along your weight with the heels of your feet as it appeared like a child eager to be taken to the first destination of her field trip.
Bzzt. Bzzt. Satoru could feel his phone vibrate inside his pockets. The default ring tone of his cellphone pealing out loud, over and over again.
He never cared to put it on silent. Unmoved by how it look as though he was definitely needed to be somewhere.
Gojo was doing it on purpose. Ignoring the call, that is. In no circumstance did he bother to answer again as he knew it was either Yaga ranting and raving for his irresponsibleness or Ijichi being chided for his faults that has been put to the assistant director's blame.
"You're not answering that?" your tone seemed mirthful than ever, bringing the stuff toy below your chin while the other held onto the wooden stick. The cold dessert you were clutching onto was now polished off to the ends; the piece of wood aimed directly at Satoru's phone that was kept inside the pocket of his jeans.
You've held a palm out to him, signaling for him to wait as your feet skipped through the cemented grounds, throwing the garbage inside the proper recycling bin. Even though, Satoru did not appear to be looking. He basically was keeping track of where you walked upon.
Filled with vim. Your feet having the springs as you've pranced back, being all smiles and giggly. He'd given you his regard and another of his toothy grins, intentionally ignoring your question.
"You should at least hide your excitement, Tiny-Chan."
The train was fast enough for you to emit a sound of excitement; a faint squeal that went straight passed out of your mouth, heedless that you've ought to say it out loud. The train speaker declared its standard procedures in their native language, stating upon which station they were currently in---where both you and Satoru are located in.
You've taken short, overjoyed leaps through the entryway, snapping your head from left to right once situated inside and saw how there weren't a lot of people aside from a college looking student who had thick, square eyeglasses that sat on the farthest end of the train over the boundary where another hatch were interloping and connecting with the other door, a periphery of the area.
This stranger had his head leaning along the window behind him. He'd audibly sighed his frustration out underneath his breath. Mind elsewhere, currently in a pensive state as he was burdened over complications that has happened with his work and towards subsidiary affairs.
Activities which can be considered as a religion he worshipped. A lone divinity adulated by a faction of individuals they've devoted their lives for, depending on their own scriptures or gospels delivered by a deity they offer all their reliance on. People were of many creeds and cultures. Humanity embodied boundless beliefs. Divine beings reverenced by traditions that were established years before. 
Each one had their own doctrines of predestinations. It was just a matter of faith or a member of the human race to perceive and accept their designated sects with accepted pieties and the sanctity of one. 
"If 'Toru' has a tiny spot of grime...I'm strangling you alive, Satoru!"
You've caught this stranger's attention when you've given a loud, rowdy exclamation of your own irrefutable threat. The man lethargically blinked to himself, keeping his head away from the window before he'd been knocked for six, blinking another as if he couldn't believe his eyes. 
"Is that..." His submerged mind went above the apprehension of reality, own dwellings surfacing in between a quandary that emerged for an unsought time. Incredulity and dread loaded his disbelieving spirits. Own nerves malfunctioning, putting a kibosh on worrying over the mistakes he'd been berated back on a work he'd been receiving money from. 
The faction comprehended him clearly. Six months. Half a year after dooms day, Fukumoto Daichi was to be reborn again. Right after on the succeeding date that every Jujutsu Sorcerer has been oblivious for. An ill-starred time that no one would've been aware of. 
Their world's downfall for only a minute of time where each one was bound to suffer in successive unforeseen deaths. 
Fukumoto Daichi had seen what was written in the stars.
Through every calamity; every stroke of bad luck from every Jujutsu Sorcerer's decisions till the contretemps of what Satoru's dimension provided them with. Natural disasters that couldn't be controlled till the resoluteness of cursed-spirits that has been casted to the sides---thrown towards the tenebrosity of their world because of one's existence. He'd detected them all. They were au courant with the eventualities and incidents. Every member finding utmost trust to his divine providence that he offered to their faction.
But, to his ordinance---a god-forsaken commandment, Fukumoto Daichi had announced his sacrilege was to never stand in the way of what fate had for their dimension.
No matter what it takes.
Undeterred by the laden consequences, deplorable conditions and egregious circumstances that he'd foreseen before his demise.
Even if it meant for their world to collapse into complicated, torn pieces.
Only Sasaki Hibito was the sole person to apprehend what was said between the lines of their overseer in the subject matter of a woman; a substantial commination to the tenets of Fukumoto.
This threat he'd distinguished to be. Fukumoto foreknows everything. The image of your face which had his sanction flabbergasted by the details. Yet, barely laying hold of what you provided for Satoru's world other than the sketches he envisaged because your existence; your life, your motives or plans ahead, to Fukumoto he'd seen nothing but a nullified cloud of obscurity. Withholding bupkis of your astral influence that he could not predict.
Hence, which is why he'd made it intelligible for everyone---to everyone meant that only Hibito had understood the obligation imparted to those who were vacated that you were entailed to be terminated.
It was either to decimate or keep you constrained no matter who ended up escorting you through your unnecessary pilgrimage on their land.
Nevertheless, the scene that he was welcomed with---bringing you with them to a standstill required sedulous care. An all-embracing endeavor and a life of toil for each member of their religion that it would take a chucklesome illusion of pigs flying in the air.
Perhaps, keeping you detained within their grasp would be impossible.
Because you were guided---deemed to be protected and shepherd around Japan by the strongest jujutsu sorcerer in their world.
How fearsome it was to see you with him. Even mind-boggling to get a drift of such appearance that were an absolute reciprocity of Fukumoto Daichi with an opposite gender that they had prophesied for. Though, to no extent did they have any idea where, when and how you would make an appearance.
Hibito's hand couldn't help but shake just by being in the presence of him alone. Those fingers of his that trembled from trying to clean his own glasses with the fabric of his shirt. His lungs that began shaking like a leaf.
Those of the members within his faction who had seen Gojo Satoru in the flesh have been right. It was either you get intimidated or terrorized by the judgements you had for his potentials, exhibit abhorrence for his existence and hubristic side or have a bit of both.
There was no in between if he doesn't plan to keep you close within his range. Physically, mentally and spiritually.
Only those who were of palsy-walsy are to witness what and who Gojo Satoru really was. Apparently, Hibito was not one.
Master Daichi knocked together a plan of action that was paradoxical to begin with if what he depicted were not of an illusion fabricated during his stressed out conditions.
Hibito brought back his glasses to where it was situated in the first place. Lenses all limpid that he'd happen to fall further on his seat. An expected migraine taking place from the image.
You really were with the honored one. The inheritor of the limitless and six-eyes.
"Out of all damned people...She was supposed to be with us," Hibito mentally thought to himself, shunning his eyes away from both you and Satoru who kept bickering like you did not care for the world. He kept his eyes straight, disregarding your presence on purpose.
Nevertheless, his own leg seemed to be jiggle when he began to cross them. His own nerves deceiving him through the thoughts, logics and false providence that followed; his soul outright aware of Satoru who was just meters away from him and knowing he had the capability to die with one phony act he makes when he appears to be like he knew him and his history along the Jujutsu Society.
It would always end up with the question, 'How'. In which, Hibito could forebode their sub rosa patrols that involved time ahead and revealing them all would have him dying first before he could.
"Ooooh. Scary! A threat coming from a teeny-weeny girl," Satoru teased and taunted, shifting on his seat as he leaned his head to the side, sending you a charming, skittish beam, "---A threat that's entirely impossible to happen. Heh." he'd lowly chuckle to himself, leaning closer to your face to offer more of his mischief and irritating taunts, "---I'd love to see you struggle."
"You've already gotten him dirty because you threw him off!" you've groused with a grimace, huffing back to him and taking the stuff toy in between you both, emphasizing your forefinger and drawing beads on where the exact smudges were. Showing him the tiny specks of dust that it has gotten from his previous reckless actions back at the photo booth.
"Eh. It's only a tiny speck of dust. You should've chosen a different plushie then. You had options. Either a black one or the horrid, white one." Satoru nonchalantly stated, his voice light as he leaned his broad shoulders back, crossing his arms but having his legs spread enough for you to chastise him for in which he clearly didn't care about if you were too bothered by it.
"Aren't you sitting too close to me? There are lots of spaces to be seated on! Yet, you chose to sit beside me and man spread like a bitch again!" your verbal horsewhips passed from one ear then towards the other. His grin growing like it was animated enough as Satoru scooted closer next to you, depriving more of your area with his lofty built. Another sally resurfacing that was already prepared to be quipped out in the open.
"Actually, you should be thankful. I get to check the weather up here and that annoying top of your head. Need to check if you're growing a halo or the devil's ears already." His facial expressions turned more of a cock-a-hoop when you've shamelessly pushed his thigh close with your palms, exerting all your energy to it as he let you do it your own. Satoru going on with the flow and letting you have your own fun.
He'd countered all of this perversion with a semblance of bypassing the sense of absurd froth that spumed under that palisade he trusted to be resilient and stout.
"---I realized that it might be a little bit of both though. There's no in between. Are you also like this back in your world?"
"I was once an angel. But, being with you is making me turn into a she-devil!---Satoru, your leg is heavy! Please move! Or just basically give me space then!" You've breathed out the energy used to just allow yourself to sink in further on your seat, being cloth to cloth with Satoru now while he expressed his frisky, obdurate discords with a shake of his head and continuous 'nah's' ,'No's.'  and unsophisticated 'uh-uh's'.
You were being ridiculously more comfortable as you held onto the prize that you both had claimed back at the arcade. Another exhausted breath has been puffed out of your lungs as you've held onto your fluffy, Neko's white ears, making it sit on your lap, aimlessly playing with it, a genuine smile lifting your face.
An involuntary run of the mouth. The repressed thoughts, one that has been too honest to overhear by the latter, "---Also, I've chosen this because this is the only one that has the possibility to look like you!"
Satoru couldn't help the waggish grin that traced his features. His arms folded before him as he was gazing alongside your face, "Ah. I understand it clearly now. Are you saying that you've chosen that Neko plushie in hopes of remembering me whenever I'm not around?"
"---I mean," he started again and went on with his teasing, wiggling his albino brows as he jibed at your abrupt honesty, "---you've basically had him patented with such a marvelous nickname, right? There's no doubt that you've chosen that particular plushie to spare a thought for me."
Damn it. His own reasoning and logic made your body freeze. A bucket of numbing ice seeming to fall above your foolish self. Your hands stiffening from mindlessly playing with the stuff toy at hand.
Caught red-handed. You had to snap your head away after that, fighting shy of his conspicuous, unabating observance. Those palpable Ether that always had your face toiled underneath the broiling sun. With a twisted expression and your tongue poking on the insides of your cheeks, there was no doubt that you wanted to slap your own mouth, turning too free-spoken around a person that you should be through and through attentive of. 
Satoru was left chuckling to your side. The tonality rich and resonant, full-toned enough to analyze that he was probably thinking of taking its meaning to his head. The assumption lingering inside his haughty mind that you've purposely chosen the white cat in terms of remembering him when he wasn't around.
You knew you were right when he started to brag his mouth upon the notion, "Don't worry, I'll always be around you, Tiny-Chan. There's no need for that." Satoru pressed on, his leg now elegantly crossed as he leaned further on your side. Straight off, being cheek by jowl with him. His willowy, athletic weight now leaning more onto you as he hummed teasingly.
"Y-You're putting words in my mouth! I-I didn't say that!" Flustered words toppled one on top of the other, caught in your own incautious reckoning. Those honest statements should've been left unsaid and prohibited only to that angel sitting on your shoulder.
Those off the record kept thoughts should've been written on a locked diary or some sort instead. Yet, this erratic, refreshing solace that neighbored you whenever Satoru was around, the apparent sheltered ambiance that could be felt through him paved those thoughts out somehow.
In which fed to his ego again after all.
"It's okay to be honest with me. I dislike liars anyway. Feel free to memorize my charm and handsome face before I return the blindfolds back," your cheeks were puffed for both, restraining the need to strangle yourself from your genuine dopiness, aware of the piping hot temperature that tarried, falling further down the volcano hole. Your face experiencing to be sizzling in a fiery catch of shame for such an honest retaliation that didn't seem to even be a verbal counterattack from you and also for Gojo's veracity that he was proudly reveling in.
He'd slanted down further, catching you entirely off-guard when the supple of his lips grazed along your earlobe. Those next words of his sounding deep-toned, modulated but a little bit hoarse that was meant to be classified into the titillating side.
What was set forth susurrated below his breath. Warmth carelessly skimming above your skin, "Don't be shy,"
All at once, those hairs on the nape of your neck stood like you've been electrocuted. The electricity going straight down the rabbit hole like it has given you a sensation of something different. One squeezing through concupiscent dreams, worth for a mother to scold the licentious behavior of her daughter. 
It echoed and rang through that flummoxed state you were having, his words being crooned like a choir out in a church. Full and utterly angelic despite of how the devil was probably laughing out of court through your persistence of going through the motions being a paragon of virtue. An angel? Nah. You certainly weren't. 
This quotation you've heard from Satoru have been mixed within the familiarity that echoed in that fragmented abyss planned to be healed and connected together, filling the cavity of intrigue. Though, the words that came out of his mouth was definitely the first time you've heard them loud and clear. It was as far as you could recall, including that distinct impeccable locution he uttered that has given you a giggle prior when you were forcefully fed by his Shiitake Mushrooms.
"H-Hey! IT'S MAKING ME UNEASY!---you are making me uneasy, Satoru!" Out of the blue, you've loudly protested at the top of your lungs. As luck would have it, there weren't any other passengers except for the college student you've become cognizant of. To some degree, his body stilted upon his own seat like he was situated in a rather confined space when he had all the expanse to take, off in a world of his own. If there were elders, they would've chastised both you and Satoru for being so brash and rowdy. Affiliates to be classified in the boisterous side of the crowd because of the constant rumbustious pleasantries that catapulted high and low from both parties.
The noise would've been considered ill-mannered to their culture especially while riding a public transportation.
You tore hell for leather out of the seat you've occupied in the train, lifting yourself off from Satoru's side, emigrating from his reach without sparing him a glance. Your face uttermost being baked inside an imaginary oven, feeling like it was being scorched by the heat of the stove.
Satoru was utmost tickled pink for such a raucous reaction.
Too entertained that he had to drive more around the bend. He'd given a simper, the ends of his lips stretching wider as he ought to bring his pestilent necessities to use. Satoru was settled to provoke you even more, shamelessly pulling himself out of his seat, scurrying along your side with a playful purse of his lip. The troublesome idea of whispering the phrase again along your ear.
The strongest have made it obvious. Satoru's perverse decisions and plans that were clouded with mischief all the while he scooted next to you and offered his audible teehees.
"Don't be---" His words were cut off, lanky body being at an angle where his breath was capable of giving the summer breeze along your hypersensitive skin. The wariness of his presence stuffing your sentience that you were holding tightly onto your brand new prized stuff toy with a reckless moniker of it having named 'Toru' that you've had the audacity and will power to shove the plushie on Satoru's face in attempts to shut him up.
It would've stopped everyone's tracks; would've ceased Sasaki Hibito if he wasn't intentionally shunning off to both of your existence, it would have also catch Satoru's students on the hop because of a breathtaking and unanticipated incident. An absolute willpower from a non-sorcerer would have raised a furor among everybody who'd wanted revenge given to a menace of the Jujutsu Society. That fixity of purpose from a person who entirely had no sense of cursed energy nor knew any technique in regards to Jujutsu.
All that spunk you've got deserved an uproar. If his students or those people who were constantly annoyed by him were around, you might have received a splendid applause.
Satoru had seen it. His senses knew you were about to give him a smite with your Neko stuff toy. But, he was too busy; too preoccupied with his own guffaws over the bashfulness of your spirits that he allowed it to happen. Your soft toy smacking him in the face, "---Oomph!"
However, Gojo Satoru was obviously quicker than you opined him for revenge. Energetically taking the stuff toy from you and out of your hands.
The annoying idiot literally and proudly chucked the prized possession away inside the train. Within the area of the public transportation that you were both traveling in. The poor white stuff toy kitty heading throughout the width of the train compartment, accepting its hapless fate with a faint squeak of its loss. The lifeless soft toy devoting itself for its sustained defeat for being tossed for a lot of times today.
Satoru Gojo: 2 | Neko-san: 1
Neko-San has earned his well-deserved point by hitting him on the face.
"SATORU!"
This has been one of the loudest exclamation of his name that has been spat out of your mouth, kicking up a fuss for the sorcerer's foolish actions. Those embarrassed expressions you had, the broiling heat gradually melting away when Gojo had to dramatically stood on his towering height. He'd posed like he had a strike over a bowling game. Fists tightened on either side of him. His long-legs slightly bent like he was ready to pounce or give a kick over a cursed-spirit that technically wasn't there to begin with. Stance appearing to be like he was ready for combat.
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You couldn't help the tight, firm moue. Those aghast expressions candid to be perceived by anyone, distorting them even more when Satoru had to declare a word out loud.
"STRIKE!"
You've given him the stink-eye, giving his face a once over and scrutinized the widening beam he had. As a matter of fact, you've spotted the slight dinky rumpled streaks of his wispy Ivory hair on the strength of Neko-san's attack. Satoru never took his eyes off your Neko stuff toy that went and flew as far as it did that it fell right exactly before the stranger's shoes whom was sitting silently and minding his own business.
"AH! YOU NEED TO STOP IT! He's as pale as your albino hair! Stop throwing him away like he's some ragdoll! REALLY!" With a stomp of your foot and an obvious, tight wrinkle of your brows clamped together. To the fullest extent were you nettled by Satoru's acts of inconveniences. You've felt your lips twitch on the sides, huffing out an exasperated breath. Holding onto the train's metal side bar to stabilize yourself to stand as you've audibly vouched and dragged your heavy footing along the floors towards your beloved stuff toy.
"---I have to get him again myself!" you've crowed your thoughts out loud, bleats frank enough for Satoru to assess as he continued on with his poses and own glares upon a lifeless dummy he was subtly seeing as an illusionary combatant. "---you've almost had to hit the stranger on the head too! Now, I need to apologize for your behavior when I don't even speak your language!"
The floor seemed nicer to stare at for Sasaki Hibito. How long had he been moored to his seat till his destination? In all likelihood, the time he spent with the both of you around had been ephemeral. Quite not too long ago yet. Granted that, time stood still and had been a suffocating mess when Satoru Gojo has been in the ballpark bordering his vicinage.
Hibito has been eavesdropping, nevertheless. Mentally inscribing synopsis or observations for your existence as well. One he'd taken to footnote was the nonnative language you were speaking. Distinguishing you to be of a foreign woman whom the strongest could decipher. He'd also been hearing you both fighting over something so childish. An irrelevant notation he'd paid attention to when his earwigging was ceased due to seeing a large, white, stuffed cat toy that has been knocked to the ground, right before the tip of his shoes.
This was the thing that both you and Satoru has been bickering non-stop about.
He couldn't help but mentally cuss inside his head. Never risking the profanities to be commented out loud.
"Damn it." Hibito was repeatedly questioning himself if he needed to get it for you. Balancing the consequences if he did or did not. What if he acted and turned a blind eye to the plaything? would Gojo Satoru break his neck for it? 
Hibito technically heard the prior canards through one of Fukumoto's disciples. One of the few and far between strong adherents of his that he couldn't conceive to be happening; confabulating with an eldritch being to start with. He'd listened to the their chinwags over how Gojo granted ruthless measures over a particular unregistered special grade cursed spirit who'd underestimated the strongest. His foe losing his temper for his vainglorious demeanor that he had whenever in the course of a Jujutsu battle. Gojo Satoru was granted that he was verily stronger and had the upper hand before the battle even started. 
The word on the street purveyed in the pitiless aftermath of this certain vier, taking him down a peg or two from grisly pulling his own head off inside Gojo's Domain Expansion that has overthrew his. 
Straightaway and without even realizing his fretful nerves were controlling him all at once, Hibito was coming in for the stuff toy. His subconsciousness screaming how his yips would've made everything conspicuous, yet he had to play the chivalrous and respectful Japanese citizen. He didn't need to look at the both of you anyway, he silently thought as his head bowed when he'd felt that you were at arms length away from him. 
Both of his arms out with the plushie on his hand, offering your soft-toy back without even sparing you a glance. 
This was the first and only time he'd seen whom everybody have loathed and been frightened of. Gojo Satoru whose existence which made every cursed-spirit hid behind the shadows because of his birth. Hibito even had the ill-fate to tolerate upon communicating towards the threat that their worshipped being has forewarned them all about.
The woman of peril that needed to be constrained within their hands.
"Ah---Hm. Arigatou Gozaimasu and Gomenasai. I hope the pronunciation is correct. By the way, mister---I'm with the crazy, albino man child. I'm so sorry." you've kindly thanked Hibito, trailing off for a second as you've glanced at the train's ceiling, reclaiming your soft-toy back from his hands. Your next words gibberish for him to understand as it was beyond any doubt a foreign sentence that he had his brows in a twist. The stranger carried on and hid his face underneath and in between his arms, playing the role of a diffident man who did not want to have a confab with anyone. 
He just didn't trust the constant frets of his fingers and the everlasting instability that Gojo's presence has brought him in. 
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"Oi! Tiny-Chan!~" 
Ah, Damn it. Hibito felt himself tripping on the wrong foot when he'd heard Satoru merrily calling out for you. His spirit of inquisitiveness has been changed to stress, stirring an intense amount of agitation when he heard Satoru hollering. The peculiar nickname and honorific he'd used piqued his curiosity. 
He had to continue and bow further as if the floor was really such nice art. Fukumoto's votary wanted you to scram; wanted you to skedaddle that he was pleading to Fukumoto's dead soul that you would leave him alone before his state of nerves could divert Satoru's attention from yours to his. 
However, your nosiness; your snoopy self decided to stay upon your tracks and studied him down in concern, wondering why he wasn't giving you a look, worried that he wasn't all too well. 
You've dwell on further, not wanting to judge the culture that you were still adapting from. Distracted as you appeared to be especially with the visual perception of Gojo, his six-eyes be immersed over your figure as you stood before the unusual, timid stranger. How the echo of his feet were like the drums of death, steadily being clobbered with in hulking thuds. Literally. 
"He knows. He knows that I know him. He knows. He knows." Hibito was cognitively ranting and wordlessly rambling time after time. His mind in a mess and have been on edge that he had unconsciously fished his phone out of his pocket, acting as if he has gotten a text when he could hear Gojo's heavy footsteps echoing closer.
"Didn't I tell you to just stay beside me because it's more fun when I'm around?"
Hibito's breath was being held back. He could feel himself fighting to keep an unstable pattern of breaths to make him appear more composed within the presence of his mind when it has all been the opposite. From his peripheral vision, his line of sight that has been hardly engrossed over the screen of his phone, he could see and feel Satoru closing in within a spitting distance which kept his anguish mid bay. 
"More fun when you're around? Hah! That was very funny. You've been giving me headaches!" you've bewailed with a tepid, sardonic laugh, turning a blind-eye to Satoru's saunters, "---throwing my plushie away since the moment I had him whenever you could. I always had to get it myself! This is all your fault!"
"Hai, hai...Come here now," Satoru droned once he was well-nigh, waltzing within the borderline of your discussion with a stranger you barely knew. "---besides, Neko-san's meant to be catapulted all the time."
"You go wash him then!" 
He'd kept his foot atwix the stretch of margin that kept you and Hibito adjacent to each other, looking as though he was trying to meddle in. Satoru actually was, much to your ignorance. On grounds of Hibito's twitchiness, his own nerves reacting upon his jittery impulse, his foot has faintly repelled when his sight-line and headlong senses seen Gojo's shoes step in between the line. 
It probably wasn't the best idea for his own axons to betray him in such an epoch-making occasion right now. 
You've been too faraway over your own hairsplitting mumbles of complaints over Satoru's actions, those real grouches inwardly interrupted when you've felt the grasp and warmth of his riveting touch that has gently grabbed your wrists, snowed under with his sizeable palm. Indulgent as he always was with you. Gojo have pried you out of the superfluous conversation, dragging you alongside of him and back to where you both seated. 
He's protective over her. She probably has been aiding to what Master Fukumoto has seen her to be. This guy wouldn't keep her with him if she was entirely useless after all. Hibito took his time as he breathed out the air he had been holding. At an apparent snail's pace with each step Satoru took as he yanked you away. The sneaking suspicions settling his ruminative thoughts ahead again. 
Although, he's kinda' too protective to assess.
Unbeknownst to him, The Strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer has given him the side-eye upon his intrusion, sparing him a glance of his fugitive heed when he'd intentionally whisked you away from Sasaki Hibito, the knacks of his scrupulous senses fastening on the infinitesimal buck fever he was having till the mocked-up act he was trying to mask for whatever reasons. Yet, above all was the tiniest scent that he had been around cursed-spirits. His six-eyes never conked out nor diminished him. It was a vague smell that he was inured to after all and even how diminutive this was for Hibito because he hadn't even met Fukumoto's acolytes for today yet, Satoru knew.
Satoru's foremost gut feeling that his restiveness had to be about him. 
That's what he thought because Gojo has been given to understand that you were a nonentity. Thoroughly unidentified and your existence purely being a mystery whom no one in his world knew of. 
"How could we even get ahold of her when it was impossible from the start?"
Gojo has cut those hunches dead, thumbing one's nose over a tangential non-sorcerer whose existence was irrelevant to begin with. 
Through the birth of Gojo Satoru; the balance of the world has been altered. But, to your unanticipated existence and being entirely surrounded by him, alone. Everyone's destiny was guaranteed to be reshaped and tweaked to an extent that should've been left untouched.
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Just wanna make it clear that Fukumoto Daichi has the same face with you. He's a man but prolly older. Heehee. He also have his disciples which are Sasaki Hibito and the others---which will be named and introduced soon. 
Think of them as a cult that's supposed to be hiding at all costs because they know some things that aren't supposed to be known that easily.
Satoru just be breathin' and Sasaki Hibito be fainting---LMAO XD 
There's still going to be chapter 7.9 before chapter 8 begins. Sorry if it's too long. I just really wanted this to last and also let them have their moments. Heehee. See you on the next chapter soon, if anybody even reads these fanfic stories of mine. Heehee!
SEND AN ASK?
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marshmallowgoop · 2 years
Text
10 People You Want to Know Better
I was tagged by @meitantei-shitpost, @hexfloog, and @blenderfullasarcasm! Thank you!!
Relationship status: Single.
Favorite colors: Pink! Though, I'm a fan of most colors. Except maybe orange.
Favorite foods: Potatoes (in whatever form), apple pie, chili penne, ice cream, BBQ, pizza, bread pudding, corn, soup, watermelon, carrot cake, popcorn, fried chicken, coconut mango curry, chocolate pudding... I love food and could go on and on and on. But I suppose marshmallows should be on this list!
Song stuck in your head: Nothing really in particular right now? Maybe "Enjoy Your Life" by MARINA, because of this AMV.
youtube
Last thing you Googled: Not counting things I searched for work (confidential), it was the date of a holiday so that I wouldn't accidentally schedule a NaNoWriMo meetup on that day 😅 (I'm one of my region's Municipal Liaisons (MLs) for National Novel Writing Month next month.)
But the more interesting search before that (and the one I want to ramble on about for a sec) was "danny phantom shadow of a doubt." Because I'm feeling super nostalgic, and I helped beta a chapter of that fic back in the day. And also drew the first fanart for the story that ever hit the web?
Time: Probably time to cook some food...
Dream trip: Good question, haha. One where my family is all together?
Last thing you read: YouTube comments?
Last book you enjoyed reading: "Enjoy" is too strong a word, but the last book I read cover to cover was The Long Goodbye. And boy was it long. Enjoyed it more than The Maltese Falcon, I suppose...
I really need to read more books.
Favorite thing to cook/bake: Soup? Considering that's about all I ever make 😂
Favorite craft to do in your free time: sobs about how I'm not an artist and not creative and can't do anything artistic
Umm, I'm new to it, but I've come to really love video editing! And if it counts as a craft, I can't get enough of writing essays about my blorbos.
Most niche dislike: It's maybe a dangerous thing to admit so publicly, but. Popsicle sticks. It's... a minor phobia. I can't touch them. The sight of them puts me on edge. I used to be able to eat popsicles and that kinda thing by just wrapping a paper towel around the stick and dumping the food on a plate when I got to the end, but I don't think I can even manage that anymore. Just thinking about it gives me chills. Eugh.
Opinion on circuses: I respect the artistry, but I can't say I ever seek out opportunities to go.
Do you have a sense of direction: Nnnnnope, lol. The "don't lose your way" song from Kill la Kill is my ringtone both because it's the love duet of my OTP (tell me I'm wrong) and because I, uh, get lost constantly.
Tagging: @badgerjaw, @cartoonsbyandie, @circumference-pie, @defectiveconantoy, @meitanteisachi, @mirrorfalls, @observeroftheuniverse, @snoozeeroo, @tangentiallly, and @voiceofthecity
But of course, absolutely no pressure to play if you don't want to!
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baka-monarch · 3 years
Note
Oh we still doing fake fic's? Hooray!
You do not get to eat all my popsicle and then pretend to be a popsicle
Just because your small
So, forest God's are real?
Potato soup and a side of velvet cookies
Who's the big man now?
That recipe is not for you!
You do not get to eat my popsicle then pretend to be a popsicle
Tubbo had the perfect plan to eat Ranboo's popsicle. It was flawless. The human had left it out while they went to finish something- so all Tubbo had to do was eat it then hold onto the stick- it was perfect and no one would ever notice the difference! Nothing could go wrong!!!
Just because you're small
Useless. Tiny. Small. That's all Dream was, especially with being stuck in the prison... Even if he got out he couldn't do anything anyways... He was too small...
So, forest gods are real?
Techno expected many things when hunting in a forest.
A god named Philza wasn't one of them.
Potato soup and a side of velvet cookies
(I am so tempted to do something with Ant and Velvet here but I don't know their boundaries with fan fic wjshdnsksijs)
Tommy was sure Techno wouldn't mind if he skipped the potato dinner (that they had every night-) and went straight to eating the cookies- right?
Who's the big man now?
Tubbo hates being a borrower. Hates relying on his human friends. Hates being looked down upon, even if people don't realize they're doing it....
That all changes when he finds a book that'll make him the size of a giant.
That recipe is not for you
Ranboo just wanted to help Niki bake, not have to save his two tiny friends after they get themselves stuck in batter.
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marshmallow-phd · 4 years
Text
Nine Little Letters
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Genre: College AU, Fake Dating AU, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before AU
Inspired By: This graphic made by @rcse-tvler​
Pairing: EXO x Reader
Summary: Just when you thought life was done shoving you down, it got much, much worse. After finding out that your latest crush was already in a relationship, you did what you always did when emotions ran high: you wrote a letter. Signed and sealed, you put it away with the eight other letters you’d written to past one-sided loves, never to be seen again. That is, until a mix up accidentally sends those letters out to their respective recipients and you find yourself in the middle of one confusing web of love. With fake relationships, insecurities, and revelations swirling around, things are bound to get a little messy.
Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11
This was the worst kind of humiliation. Standing there on the sidewalk staring open-mouthed at the one person you were excited to see today, you were crumbling into a million pieces. And no one even noticed. That was what made this humiliation so bad; there was no one to witness it. You were breaking and no one cared.
You should have known better, really. This morning was going too well. You had woken up on time, had a delicious, filling breakfast, and had managed to put an outfit together worthy of any Pinterest board. Your confidence was through the roof and you were going to do the one thing in your life you swore you would never do.
You were going to confess to your crush.
Signing up for math tutoring was the last thing you wanted to do. Who in the world wanted to spend their valuable free time learning more about equations and algorithms? But you needed to pass this class. It was the second time you’d taken college algebra and the thought of taking it a third time made you want to crawl under your bed. So, you buckled down and took the walk of shame into the math lab. (Yes, that was an exaggeration. Everyone knows there is no shame in getting help. Didn’t mean you had to like it.) When you got the call from your assigned tutor, you ignored it. You didn’t like talking on the phone to anyone let alone a number you didn’t recognize. No voicemail was left. Then a text came through.
Hi, (y/n)! This Kim Junmyeon! I’ve been assigned as your math tutor. When you get a chance, let me know when you’re free so we can create a schedule that works for you. Have a great day!
You waited an appropriate amount of time before replying. So, an hour and half later, you texted him your schedule and made a plan to meet up in the library the following Thursday. You marked that day on your calendar with exactly zero enthusiasm. In your head, this Kim Junmyeon was the cliché nerd from movies: dorky glasses, snort-like laugh, and clothes that looked better on a grandfather. Oh, boy were you so happy to be wrong.
Sitting down at one of the tables by the large, ceiling high windows, Junmyeon was nothing like you’d imagined. He had a sophisticated aura about him. He dressed nicely, a thin long-sleeved shirt over a patterned button down, the collar laid nicely over the top of the shirt, and was blessed with sharp, handsome features. You knew you were in trouble. But you didn’t care. You sat down at that table eagerly, ready to… learn.
For the past month and a half, you’d met Junmyeon twice a week to go over the lessons and work on the assignments. By some miracle, your grade was actually going up in the class. Somehow you were able to better comprehend the material and secretly fawn over your tutor simultaneously. At this point, you were sort of feigning how much you weren’t understanding to keep the tutoring sessions going. The nice thing about algebra, once you understood the basics, everything else built on top of it.
But today – today you had decided that you were going to step over the line from tutor and student into the realm of perhaps something more.
You liked Junmyeon. You liked his math puns and the way he scrunched his face when he thought hard about something. His lips would pucker whenever he lifted the sheet of paper to check over your work. Each time you met up with him your heart acted like it was in the middle of a NASCAR race and it was determined to win. You had it bad. This wasn’t the first time you’d had a crush like this, but you had set your mind on making this one different. This time, you wouldn’t hold it inside. You were going to be the brave one, the bold one. The fact that birds were tweeting as you rode your bike onto campus should have been a sign that things would only be downhill from there. Unfortunately, like the optimistic idiot, you took it as a positive instead.
After locking your bike up, you headed straight for the courtyard near the pond. Junmyeon had told you that he often spent his mornings there to finish up homework or to read a book (the fact that he read so much was another factor in your liking of him). In your head, he was all alone, flipping through a novel as he leaned against the trunk of a tree, looking like a prince taking a rest in the shade on a warm summer’s day. The water would be glistening in the background as a lovely, lighthearted melody played softly through the air. He would see you approach and smile that wide, brilliant smile. Your heart would skip as you sat down in the grass next to him and poured out your feelings. The daydream turned into a nightmare the second he came into view.
Junmyeon was not alone nor was he sitting under a tree with a book. He was on one of the benches, splayed out on the wooden beams with his head resting in the lap of a very pretty, more his league type of girl. She laughed as Junmyeon told a story. A delicate hand ran through his soft brown hair. Your heart fell to the ground, forming a crater at your feet.
Shoulders slumped and day ruined, you turned and headed for the student union. If today was going to suck like this, then you were going to sprinkle it with an overly sugary coffee drink. Preferably with extra chocolate drizzle. It helped - a little bit.
Your morning classes went by in a blur. You were certain you took notes, but none of the information sank in. Later you would have to transcribe your quick scribbles to a word document to help you study. You would learn the information then. By lunch, you were starting to peel yourself off the sidewalk of humiliation. Especially when the one person you could always rely on joined you for lunch.
“How did it go?”
You remained silent, continuously munching on the sandwich in your hands as your best friend sat down across from you at the small, two-person table near the middle of the cafeteria.
Baekhyun laughed his signature, SpongeBob-like laugh. “That bad, huh? I told you not to do it.”
“Technically, I didn’t do it,” you corrected. “He already has a girlfriend.”
“Ouch.”
You nodded. How could you not see this before? Did he mention having a girlfriend and you just blocked it out? Junmyeon and you talked casually between math problems, about your friends and fun things you liked to do on the weekends. He’d failed to mention one very important detail.
“Well,” Baekhyun reached over and plucked a potato chip off your plate and plopped it in his mouth, “at least you found out before you said something. I told you he wasn’t worth it.”
“Just because he has a girlfriend doesn’t mean he isn’t worth crushing on.”
“Okay. Whatever you say.”
You rolled your eyes at him. “You’re so much help.”
Ignoring your quip, Baekhyun snatched another chip. You smacked his hand, but all that managed to do was break off a few pieces, the crumbs falling to the table. Smiling proudly, Baekhyun popped the half-chip into his mouth. “So, are you just going to go home and write a letter?”
“Are you just going to go home and write a letter?” you mocked with a scrunched face.
Byun Baekhyun had been your best friend since the two of you had met in the first grade. He’d stolen your popsicle that your mother had packed as a special treat for your first full day of school. When he saw you start to cry, he broke off the piece he’d been sucking on and handed the rest back to you. There was a bit of a disagreement on the level of nice-ness that act achieved since it was your popsicle to begin with, but somehow it caused the two of you to be inseparable ever since. Being your best friend meant that he was privy to the more private parts of your life.
Like the letters.
Starting as young as ten years old, you’d developed a bit of a tradition when it came to your crushes. Emotions were hard to process, but you found them easier to work through if you thought about them and translated them into words. Those words would fly across the paper, transferring the feelings that made you both laugh and cry into the graphite that formed them. Not to mention, the act made you feel like the heroine in a rom-com. Certainly it was something that Meg Ryan or Rachel McAdams would do once they realized how they felt about the male lead.
The first letter you ever wrote was during your final year of ballet class. Dancing had been a part of your life since you were three, but a new passion had been discovered so you’d decided to quit after this last cluster of classes. A terrible decision, really. Because right after your mind was already made up, a new boy had joined the class.
Kim Jongin.
He had just moved into town after his father was promoted to a new position and had to transfer to headquarters. You’d never seen him at the park or the grocery store before. He was completely new. And beautiful.
He was blessed golden skin that glistened, shining brighter the longer he danced. And, oh, the way he danced. It was well beyond what anyone else could do. His movements were fluid, water-like, as if the very beat of the music were pulling and manipulating his limbs to convey what the notes had to say. Each move was a word and when he formed them together, they could make you smile or cry. And when he smiled… oh, his smile was like starlight. The kind of brightness that stayed in the sky even as the city lights flickered on. To this day, you’d never found one that could rival it. He was a dream that every composer coveted. So, what was your young heart to do?
Well, the movies told you to confess. But there was no way you could find the courage to do so, especially since you only saw him in class and you couldn’t confess in front of everyone. The only other option was to write it out; to write it out like Jane Austen pouring her heart out for Tom Lefroy.
 Dear Jongin,
I’m not sure how to start this. Do I compliment you on your dancing? It’s nothing like I’ve seen before. Prima Donnas in the Russian Ballet would be jealous of you! But you probably hear that all the time. And about how handsome you are, even under all that hair. I can’t help but watch when you pull it back for class so you can see yourself in the mirror. Why can’t I look like that? I somehow ended up looking like a frizzy wet cat that just climbed out of the tub.
I guess what I’m trying to avoid saying is that… I like you. A lot. I like your laugh and your wide smile. I like how much you love music and how you interpret the melody with your moves. No one can freestyle like you! My heart does a dance of its own whenever I see you. I hope you don’t have anyone that you like, just so I can stand a chance. Would you ever think of me like that? If not, it’s okay. I just needed to tell you. Someday, you’ll be on stage dancing to an audience of thousands and I’ll be right there in the front row, cheering you on! Until then, I hope you always find happiness in what you love.
Love,
(y/n).
 That sentence about watching him on stage made you cringe in hindsight. Cute for a ten-year-old, but a bit stalkerish. Luckily, though, you never gave it to him. You chickened out every time up until the last class. The idea of him opening it and reading right there in front of you was mortifying. So, then, you decided to mail it. The teacher gave you his address after you told her you wanted to invite him to your birthday party (it should be a little worrisome that a teacher was willing to pass on private information like that… perhaps it was because you were a kid). Three times you went to the mailbox to send the letter out and three times you ran back inside to hide it under your mattress.
That was the beginning of your weird little tradition. Though you never sent the letter to Jongin, you felt better having somewhat confessed your feelings and worked through them without the humiliation of actually… doing it. So, the next time you had a crush so overwhelming that you needed to get the feelings out, you wrote a letter. You even went all the way each time to address the envelope, giving the confession a sense of finality. There was no fear in them ever going out. Baekhyun was the only other one in the world who knew of their existence. At the current moment, eight were hidden in a drawer in your vanity. The way your fingers were itching, a ninth one was on the way.
“I might,” you finally replied.
Baekhyun leaned forward eagerly. “Can I read it when you’re done?”
“No!”
He snapped his fingers as he sat back in his chair. “Darn.”
“Why am I even friends with you?”
“Because I’m charming.”
There was no question in his voice. He one-hundred percent believed it. And… to be honest, he did have his moments. But that was all in the past. “Like a plank of wood.”
Shaking his head, Baekhyun rapped his hands on the table before standing up. “Alright, I’m going to class. Have fun with your pencil and imagination.” For emphasis on his stupid remark, he stole one last chip before walking off.
You finished off your sandwich in a bit of a rage. By the time you were finished, your mouth muscles were aching as if you’d spent several hours at the gym and it was jaw day.
You only had one class left for the afternoon. But it was algebra. How were you supposed to concentrate on functions when your sad attempt at getting into a relationship with your tutor failed so epically? Somehow you managed, though, and you packed up at the end of class with a new sort of determination. As you hopped on your bike and rode home, you thought over what you were going to write. You were so lost in your head that you hadn’t notice the car pulling out of your neighbor’s driveway, nearly hitting you before the driver hit their brakes.
“Shoot!”
You back peddled to break. Your heart thumped in your chest. No life memories flashed before your eyes, but you were sure you almost died. Slowly, you moved forward to get out of the way of the car. 
“I’m sorry!” you yelled over your shoulder.
The driver leaned out the window.
Oh, great.
It was your neighbor. Or, at least, your neighbor’s son. Do Kyungsoo. He stared at you with an expression that could be blank but could also be a glare. It was hard to tell with him. Shaking his head, he pulled back inside the car and drove away.
Fighting off embarrassment for the second time this day - albeit this situation was much lower on the scale and it happened a bit more often than you’d like to admit - you put your bike up in the backyard and headed up to your room. Your mother, a literary history professor, and your father, a doctor at the local hospital, were both at work and wouldn’t be home until well after dinner. You were used to it. Besides, you were an adult and you liked being able to decide to have pizza for dinner and not worry about what other people wanted for toppings. Once you put your order in, you sat down at your vanity and got to work.
 Dear Junmyeon,
Has anyone told you how your hair looks in the sunlight? The dark brown hues seem so warm and inviting, like an ebony chair that was warmed by the unfiltered rays. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to run my finger through it. Would the strands be as soft as they look? Would you wear the same smile on your face that you do during our sessions? But I guess I might not be meant to feel them. Today, I intended to tell you how I felt. I woke up with a determination, a goal to say how much I like you to your face. I was so nervous riding my bike to the university, but it was the good kind of nervous; the kind that makes you keep going. It seemed, however, that I was too late. Or maybe I simply never had a chance at all. I’d missed any signs that said you were already someone else’s.
I hope she knows how lucky she is. I hope she makes you laugh and listens to you when you’re having a bad day. Your laugh is like a symphony. Does she tell you how light and lovely it is? Or how infectious it is? When you laugh, I can’t help but laugh along. It’ll be sad not to hear it anymore. Or have our talks filled with random subject changes. But I think I’ll miss your smile most of all. The way it crinkles your eyes yet still lets them shine. The way it spreads across your face and the way your cheeks grow. It is truly a sight to behold. I hope wherever you go, you are always smiling. You always let your light shine even on the cloudiest of days. That’s what’s so special about you and what made me fall for you. Even when I was frustrated or couldn’t understand, you were patient, taking my mind off of the negative and turning me so I could face the positive. That’s a rare kind of person. You are a rare kind of person. Please always be happy, Kim Junmyeon.
Love,
(y/n)
 With a sigh you sat back in your chair. The letter had done its job. Though you were still sad about the way things turned out, you no longer felt defeated. The words you needed to say were now out there without being “out there”. Okay, so he had a girlfriend. Big deal. It wasn’t the end of the world. There were more potential love interests out there that you could find. He was only one and obviously wasn’t the one.
Beginning to smile again, you folded the letter and put it in an envelope. You didn’t have Junmyeon’s address, so you wrote out the address for the math lab. Opening the top drawer of the vanity, you placed the latest addition to your collection under the first envelope. The doorbell rang right as you closed it up again. Oh, thank goodness. Food.
Practically skipping down the steps, you hurried to the front door.
“Hi-” You stopped as soon as you’d opened it. The person waiting on the other side was not the pizza delivery guy - it was Baekhyun. The boxes holding the pizza and cheese sticks you’d order for no one but yourself were in his hands. Over his shoulder, you barely caught sight of the delivery man driving away. “Really?”
“What? I was bored. And hungry.” He flipped open the lid to show you the hot, melted cheese of the appetizer. “Cheese stick?”
Rolling your eyes, you stepped aside so he could come inside.
Baekhyun had been to your home plenty of times in the past so it was easy for him to make himself at home. He didn’t wait for you before pulling plates out of the cabinet and pouring a drink. He even went as far as getting you glass as well. “Thirsty?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
The two of you ate at the kitchen table as your mother had a “no meals in the living room” policy. Small snacks like nuts and popcorn were okay, as long as you didn’t spill any on the couches.
“So… how did the writing go?” Baekhyun asked cheekily between bites.
You shrugged. “Fine. I’m deciding that I’m getting over it.”
Now it was Baekhyun’s turn to roll his eyes. “You always get over them fast.”
“What’s the point of dwelling on the things you can’t change?”
That was always your answer. Yes, the hurt was immediate and painful, but Baekhyun was right, you tended to push it aside rather quickly. That was the whole point of your letters, anyway. Get the feelings out of the way so you could move on. What was the point of clinging on to something like that? You would only end up worse if you stayed in that spot. So, you pushed yourself to move on. And eight times out of nine, it had worked. There was only that one nagging letter that failed to do its job. That particular set of feelings refused to go away even as you looked to other crushes, as you found other boys to like. It was the one you would always wonder about, the one that was completely off limits. The dull ache still crept up every once in a while. If moving on was what you had to do, you would do it. Because you would prefer if you never had to go through something like that ever again.
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builder051 · 2 years
Text
Nutrition facts
We fit like an Enfit (tube ‘verse)
_____________________
Steve’s sitting on the couch. Alpine dozes on the carpet at his feet. James is deep within the bedroom closet, looking for a button down shirt he swears matches Steve’s khakis better than the one he’s already wearing.
Steve sighs. He looks down at his phone. It’s ten minutes past noon. Ten minutes past their supposed departure time. He considers texting James a big fat ‘fuck you.’ Or maybe James’s mom. But he doesn’t have James’s mom’s phone number.
Alpine lets out a pitiful mew, and Steve pets him with the toe of his sock. He hears the whirring of his feeding pump in his backpack, and he’s tempted to pull some of the tubing out and dangle it down for the cat to play with, just to invite the possibility of an emergency leak. But James comes bounding down the hall, and Steve sits up straight as if he’s doing nothing at al.
“Here,” James says, slightly out of breath, holding out a shirt that’s red checked with brown instead of the red checked with black one that Steve has on.
“Really?”
James has on dress pants and a crisp light blue oxford. The collar is unbuttoned, so Steve knows he’s tried on a tie.
“Well, you know. Pictures and stuff.” James doesn’t meet Steve’s eye. He starts looking for his brown lace-up shoes under the coatrack.
“Your mom wants me in your family pictures?” Steve doesn’t quite believe it. “You told me this wasn’t formal.”
“It’s not.” James shuffles into the kitchen, shoes on, but untied. “Traditional, maybe?”
“Whatever…”. Steve slowly changes his shirt, taking an inordinate amount of time to button it, thread his feeding tube through one of the openings, and tuck the hem into his waistband. He leaves his old shirt in a crumpled mess on the couch so Alpine can use it as a bed.
James throws a bag of marshmallows, a can of sweet potatoes, and a couple of bottles of Steve’s formula into a plastic bag. Then he uses a kitchen chair as a footrest to tie his shoes, grabs his keys, and gestures toward the door.
Steve stares at him, half amused and half bewildered.
“What, I told Ma I’d help out,” James says. He jabs one of his aids further into his ear.
“Helping out by, like, micromanaging everything until the time comes, and then throw it all together in a big rush?” Steve’s eyebrows are practically in his hairline.
James shrugs. “We’re going. We’re helping. We’ll be there.”
“And you’re aware that I can’t eat anything on that table, unless they get the gross kind of cranberry sauce that comes out still shaped like the can. Which I don’t want to eat anyway.” Steve changes his expression to matter-of-fact annoyance.
“There’ll be juice. You can have, like, some champagne or something.”
“Like, a swill. Or I’ll fall asleep.”
James offers a soft smile and Steve’s least dirty slip on shoes. “I don’t mind driving your sleepy ass back home.”
“Eh, doesn’t matter,” Steve grumbles. “But can you text ahead or something? Tell your family that I’m NPO or whatever? I do not want anyone making me a plate. Even if it just has a teaspoon of mashed potatoes on it.”
“I already did,” James says. “Talked to Ma yesterday to make sure she got it down. I told her from the beginning, though. Since you had your colon taken out, you’ve been feeling better, but the digestion still isn’t working, so J tube only it is. Liquids and popsicles. And no dairy, soy, nuts, high glucose—“
“Yeah, ok,” Steve cuts him off, not wanting James to recite his entire medical record back to him. “Please tell me nobody’s getting the bright idea to make me a turkey popsicle.” Steve wrinkles his nose. “I’d be sick for days.”
“Well, you’ve always been good at defending yourself,” James points out, collecting the cat and putting Steve’s shoes in front of him instead. “If anyone tries to poison you, whack them with a couch cushion. Or get me, and I’ll beat them upside the head.”
“Great faith you have in me.” Steve slides into his shoes and dons his backpack.
“Yeah, well.” James gives the floor a last sweeping glance to see if there’s anything they’ve forgotten, then offers his hand to Steve. “After you,” he says, shuffling him out the door.
“I don’t wanna know what comes after this…” Steve mumbles.
“Driving. Judgmental talk about people’s early outdoor Christmas decor. Then home and cuddles and sleep,” James says promptly.
“You forgot hang the fluids, re-start the formula, tell off the cat…” Steve points out.
“Ok, fine.” James goes on, clicking his keys to unlock the car. “I can be petty. Brush your teeth. Put on your pajamas.” He turns his head to the side. “Do we still have self-warming lube?”
“You’re disgusting.” Steve yanks on the passenger door handle, which is somehow still locked. “You’re not getting anything tonight.”
James opens the driver’s side door and unlocks Steve’s door manually. “Why do I have to do everything for you, huh?” He’s kidding, and he’s grinning, but the words make Steve’s face fall.
Steve gets in and buckles his seatbelt, then settles his backpack between his feet.
“Hey.” James puts his hand on Steve’s arm. “It’s gonna be ok. You’re gonna be ok.”
“Yeah,” Steve says.
“I’m gonna bring home leftovers, and you’re not gonna have to put up with me cooking for, like, a week.”
Steve can’t hold back a small laugh. “Maybe…two days? You eat way more than you think you do.”
“Well, you eat 24 hours a day.” James indicates Steve’s tube.
“Eh, fair point.” Steve looks out the window, then to James’s hands on the steering wheel. “Can we go? So we can come home?”
“Yeah, sure,” James says with a smile. “Sure thing.”
9 notes · View notes
shadow--writer · 3 years
Text
Bittersweetness
Julian x mc (no pronouns used!) -- set in universe -- after upright endish
Word count: 4.5k
TW: none!
Tags: hurt comfort, fluff, angst, loneliness, Julian works too much, a little spicy at the end but nothing nsfw
~~~~
Some days it was hard for me to fall asleep. Some days it was even harder to wake up. Julian was always out or working, leaving me with the small ache in my chest as I thought about him. 
He was working when I fell asleep at night and was gone when I woke in the morning. 
Some days I’d wait up for him, reading and practicing spells. He’d come through the door, smelling sweet like mint and cinnamon and bitter like medicine. His hair would be a ruffled mess, eyes tired and sagging. Purple bags made permanent residence under his eyes and his lashes would brush his cheeks lazily as he blinked. 
Tonight I pretended to be asleep when he came in. Just to see what he’d do.
His voice was thick with exhaustion as he watched me pretending to sleep. “Ah asleep again,” he whispered, peeling off his gloves and boots. Off came the shirt and pants and then his sleepwear.
He never wore anything much during the summer. Just some low hanging pants a friend made for him. Venezuela was always sticky and too hot during the summer months making wearing anything else a chore. 
The bed sighed under his weight as he sat down, running a hand through his hair. There was a small chuckle from him, it rumbled from his chest and sent a spike of warmth threading through my stomach.
“Hey there sweetheart,” he said, scooting closer to me. He brushed my hair out of my face. I struggled to keep the peaceful look on. He planted a gentle kiss against my forehead, combing my hair away from my face and across my pillow. “I love you, you know. Even if I can’t be around as much...work is picking up now that the clinic is being talked about. More and more housecalls and people getting sick.”
There was a sigh as he settled into bed, arms wrapping around me. His legs tangled into mine, his nose buried into the back of my neck. His breath was warm against my skin. I let out a small sigh myself, sinking into his touch.
“I promise I’ll take a day off soon. I just need some time...to get back into things,” he murmured, lips ghosting my neck. “Thank you darling. Thank you.” A whisper. A breath. 
And he was out. 
I let out a small gasp of breath, feeling warm tears slide down my cheeks. 
I missed him.
I missed him so much it hurt.
~~
He was gone when I woke up. The only sign he was really there was the small cooling dent in the bed and the feeling of breath on my neck.
I got to my feet, wrapping a blanket around my shoulders. It smelled like him. Like leather, cinnamon and coffee. Something bitter lay under all of it. Something bitter coated my tongue and heart. 
As I moved to the kitchen I noticed that the apartment smelled nice. Like honey and coffee beans. 
I shuffled into the kitchen, tears springing to my eyes when I saw he made coffee and breakfast. The source of the good smell. By my plate of pancakes was a little note. His handwriting was messy as ever but over time I learned to read it. 
Hello my love,
Sorry I had to go so early. I swear I’ll be home earlier tonight. Things are getting very busy and I might need to hire new help soon. Which is both exciting and scary I’ll admit. 
I hope you like this peace offering of mine. Pasha taught me how to make these. It was a lot of trial and error. 
I love you more than the sun in the sky darling dear of mine. One of these days I’ll prove it to you. 
See you tonight. 
Yours,
Ilya
I held the note to my face, tears stinging my eyes. Weeks. It had been weeks since we really talked. Talked without one of us sleeping or pretending to sleep. 
I kissed the note softly, bringing it down to hug while I sat down. 
The coffee was sweeter today. He knew how I liked it. The pancakes were perfect if a bit toasty. I smiled a little. He wouldn’t stop until they were absolutely perfect. Even if I was happy with how they were now. 
My smile faded at the edges as I looked out the window at the rising sun. The day was already warm and sticky. It always was like this in the summer. Couldn’t catch a break. 
I knew Julian was right next door. Easy enough distance to go. 
But he was probably busy. He always was. 
I finished my breakfast, getting up to wash the dishes and think for a moment. Spotting the rest of the dirty dishes in the sink I knew I had a few good hours of washing with my thoughts.
As I scrapped off the plates I thought about what I could do. I could try making him lunch and bringing it over. 
My heart fluttered at the thought. 
Yes. That’s what I’d do. Make him something too. 
I quickly finished up the dishes in the sink. Forks and spoons went into their drawers and I set a few pans on a towel to air dry. 
Tucking the dish I held into a towel I set to work. 
I knew he liked warmer lunches and soups. Even in the summer. But there was something said about eating something that left a trail of warmth as you ate it. 
I was no Mazelinka but I knew he’d appreciate the sentiment. 
I got to work on a sweet potato mushroom soup. We had extra potatoes that I didn’t know what to do with. So what better way to use them than for lunch?
I peeled and mashed the potatoes, slicing up the mushrooms with care and a small hum. I grabbed a clean pot, setting it to simmer over the stove. In went the potatoes then spices. It made the house smell like butter, cumin and sweet potatoes. While I waited for that, I sliced up some plain bread with sharp cheddar. 
I made lemonade and tucked it into a cooling glass. I had extra, maybe I’ll freeze it and make lemon popsicles to share later today.
I quickly made my own lunch, standing back to admire my hard work. Breathing in I coughed a little. The air was stifling already and it wasn’t even noon yet. 
But soon his lunch was ready. I packed it into a paper bag, hoping he’d be there so I could give it to him myself. I quickly got dressed and tugged my shoes on. It was a quick trip next door, then I’d go to the market to get things for dinner. 
He...he probably wasn’t going to be back in time for dinner anyways. 
I bit my cheek as I pushed my way inside the clinic. Inside was the same as always. Large bookshelves filled with different books ranging from research to adventure novels. Kids lay on the ground with little toys and colouring books as they waited for their checkups. 
The secretary brightened when he saw me walk in. “Ah! Dr. Devorak is in his office around back, you made it just in time he just finished up with his last patient before housecalls!”
I blinked, and then smiled. “O-Oh thank you! I brought lunch for him.”
The secretary’s eyes sparkled with mischief as they took in my barely thrown together appearance. “I’ll keep people away for as long as I can,” he said with a wink making me blush. 
“No need we won’t be doing much! I’m just bringing him lunch.” Another smile. “Just lunch.”
“Whatever you say. He’s back in his office, last door down the hall.”
Face red and heart racing I whisper another thank you and move down the clinic quickly. There voices from some of the other doors, but I ignored them, knocking gently on the door labeled ‘Devorak’.
“Ah yes? Come in! I was just heading out to lunch!” Julian’s voice. 
My heart skipped a beat at it. We were both awake this time. 
I pushed the door open a bit more with a smile. “Hey darling,” I said. His eyes went wide, and he broke out in a grin. 
“Sweetheart! Y-You came to see me!” I closed the door with a small click, making his eyes jump to the sound. His cheeks warmed but he still smiled. “Mmm and what’s that smell?”
“Lunch. I made you something. And of course I came to see you, you silly duck. The shop is closed today for restocking. Asra was going to drop by later to help out so I’m free.”
“And you made me something to eat?” His eyes welled up. “Darling you didn’t have to do that!”
“I did. And I won’t be taking no for an answer.”
“At least eat with me!”
My eyes widened a fraction. I did bring my own lunch, I was going to see if Portia wanted to eat with me and then go around the market. 
But now that this opportunity appeared…
“Are you sure? Don’t you have work to do?”
His face was ashen pale. He really needed sunlight. “No no I’m on my lunch break now! Besides, I’d like to spend this time with you. I haven’t seen you in weeks!”
I bit my cheek from snarking at him. It wasn’t his fault, but it still hurt. 
Even so, I smiled softly. “Yeah. I’d love that.”
He grinned, patting the chair next to him. I sat down, handing him the paper bag. “Mmmm sweet potato soup?”
“I warn you I’m no Mazelinka-”
“Darling, you made this, making it even more special to me.”
I turned away with a smile, my cheeks warming. “It’s nothing special.”
“It is for me. And it smells so good, darling you are a wonder.”
I giggled. “Well you already made breakfast for me so I thought I’d return the favour.”
He kissed my cheek, digging in. 
I ate as well, slowly to savour these stolen moments with him. We talked about this and that. The leech dealer and her wife. About the different kids that would come in. How excited he was to get his day off and spend it with me.
“Where would we go?” I asked at that question.
He stopped talking, his hands dropping what they were doing. “Huh?”
I tucked my legs up into the chair under me, scooting closer to him. His eye twinkled. “Where would we go?”
“Well...I was thinking we could go for a boat ride in the fixing up flooded district.” He was leaning in closer to me. 
“And then?”
“After rocking the boat with some fun activities…” I let myself smile. I had an idea what activities he’d do in that poor little boat with me. “We’d go for a walk up in the meadows right outside town. Into the fields and by that great big willow tree by the stream.”
“And?”
“We’d have a picnic! We’d fool around in the wheat, maybe play hide and seek.” I giggled. That sounded lovely. “And once it gets dark I’ll take you down the stream and up this little rock formation I found. There we’ll stargaze together before you fall asleep and I have to carry you home.”
“And when I wake up at home all cozy in our bed…?”
He kissed my forehead, then moved to kiss my cheeks. “I’ll hold you. Cuddle and talk together. Run my hands through your hair, press your body against mine. Never let you go. We’ll fall asleep like that together and in the morning wake like that together.”
“Then I’ll get up first and make breakfast.”
“I’ll come down tired and grumpy that you left me.”
“I’ll kiss you as an apology and give you your coffee and we’ll talk some more.”
He kissed my nose, my browbones. “After breakfast we’ll call on some friends and go out together and maybe stay the night with them.”
“Going to the Rowdy Raven for a pint first.”
“Of course.”
I laughed, throwing my mouth open and my head back. He grinned at the sound, kissing my chin and the skin just below. “I love you,” he murmured. 
I let out a small hum, brushing my hands up his arms. He shivered at the small caress. I opened my mouth to respond. “I-”
“DOCTOR!” The secretary burst in. He caught my eye, and winced with apology seeing where we were positioned. I didn’t feel embarrassed. 
Just...sad.
“Ah! What’s wrong?” Julian snapped back, getting to his feet. I watched it all unfold, hurt snapping through my bones. 
“House call. Broken leg. Fell off a horse. Bone is sticking out. Mother is frantic with worry. Kid is fifteen.”
Julian winced, quickly packing his bag. “Tell her to wait a moment and I will be right there.”
He turned to look at me. I must’ve not been hiding my hurt very well because he frowned. “I’m so sorry darling I’ll make it up to you-”
I waved him off, forcing a smile. “No no! I can’t ask you to pull away from a kid in need. Go on and help him. I’ll be here.”
His eye swam with worry and concern. “I’m still sorry, my love. I’ll be home tonight. Early. I promise.” He kissed my forehead, and hurried out the door. 
I knew that was a lie. Things always got bad after dark. The night got sticky and warm. Heat strokes, bar fights, sneaking out. He wouldn’t be back until late.
I looked down at my lap, at the empty dishes on his desk. At the mess of paper and messy handwriting. My picture was at one end of the desk, another frame of us together next to it. Our friends all smiling at the ocean. 
I curled my knees to my chin, looking at the door he left from. 
“I love you,” I whispered to nothing but air.
~~
Dinner went cold two hours ago. I put away the leftovers an hour after waiting. I fell asleep soon after that, angry and bitter at the world for taking him from me like this. 
I missed him so much that it was clear on my face. 
I startled awake at three in the morning from a dream. A good dream or bad dream I didn’t know. I just knew I trembled alone in the dark, my skin clammy with the summer heat and my own sweat. 
My cheeks were stiff with the salt of unshed tears as I got to my feet. I pulled socks on over my toes, trying to keep as quiet as possible when I snuck down into the kitchen to get some water. 
Julian was fast asleep on his side of the bed, legs sprawled out like a starfish. He looked peaceful and I didn’t want to disturb that. 
It was a nightmare I decided. I had a bad dream. My stomach was tied in knots and my hands still trembled as I got water from the sink. My tongue was coated in something bitter and I just felt...empty. 
The bad dream aches would go away soon, only to be replaced with the almost homesick feeling.
I loved him. Don’t get me wrong I loved him so much. 
But I didn’t know how much longer I could keep going without hearing his voice in the morning, eating with him just...being with him. 
I stood by the counter, swaying my hips a little as I drank water. The water washed away the stale taste in my mouth but did nothing to help the bitter feeling. My hands slowly stopped shaking and my body stopped aching as I moved. 
“What’re you doing up so early?” I stopped what I was doing, turning to see Julian running a hand through his hair. His pants hung very low on his hips, his feet bare. The moonlight seemed to make him glow. His eyes softened as he looked at me. “Bad dreams?”
Wordlessly I nodded. 
He crossed the distance between us, wrapping me up in a hug. “I know I’m late to comfort you. I know I haven’t been the best in these last few days. These last few weeks,” he whispered to my hair. 
I didn’t say a word, not wanting to interrupt this moment. I just closed my eyes, breathing him in. We swayed a little, rocking from foot to foot. 
Then he pulled away from the hug, letting my hands slide down his arms into his waiting palms. He held my hands gently, slowly drawing me into a slow dance. 
Letting one hand go he spun me. The movement was slow, his other hand brushed my hip. A whisper of a question. 
When I stopped spinning I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him in closer. Almost immediately his arms went around my waist, his face buried in my neck and mine in his. 
His hands shifted my nightshirt up, his fingers cold as ice against my sticky warm skin. I let out a small gasp, making him smile. 
Squeezing my eyes shut, I leaned into the touch. His fingers danced up and down my sides, running down my ribs and resting on my hip bone. I pressed a soft kiss into his neck making him let out a small gasping breath. 
“I want you,” he whispered. 
“I want you,” I responded. 
“I’ve wanted you for so long. Here. In my arms. With me. Alone,” he said, kissing the side of my neck and my jaw. “Soft touches and kisses. Just you and me. I want...I want to touch you.”
“Touch me then,” I breathed, my voice seeming to come out in a gasp. 
He smiled, kissing my cheek. “As you wish.”
His hands moved from my sides to my face. Down my shoulders and arms. His fingers were so cold, but they felt nice against my clammy skin. His brows were pinched in worry, love and guilt shining in that eye he always kept covered. 
“It must’ve been one hell of a nightmare,” he said, brushing at my cheeks with his thumbs. 
I nuzzled into the touch making his breath hitch. “It must’ve been but I don’t remember it now.”
He brushed a kiss at the spots he touched. I wanted to huff in annoyance. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted him to spin me out of control until all I could see and touch and taste and feel was him. 
We danced around the kitchen in slow swaying movements. He was humming a slow bittersweet tune. One that made me feel as he did. 
He was guilty. He hated leaving me alone. Leaving me missing him as he missed me. 
He pulled out of my touch, bringing my hands down to his face. He planted small kisses on my palms and fingertips. Then following the trail he lay with his fingers he kissed up my left arm. My skin tingled with goosebumps at the touch of his lips. 
He pressed soft kisses on the inside of my wrists, tongue flicking over the veins and skin. He was gentle with me. Oh so heartbreakingly gentle. 
He moved up my arm. To my forearm and then my elbow. His lips were a ghost over my skin, making me arch my head back as he moved. 
Farther up my arm now, kissing my biceps and the soft skin right before my underarms. Then he planted kisses on my shoulders, nipping at the skin there. The muscle where my shoulder met my neck. When he bit down softly I let out a gasp, my hands tightening against his arms. 
He smiled, tongue flicking over the spot as he resumed kissing up my neck. When he reached my face he planted one final kiss on my jaw and left me craving his warmth once again. 
Holding his hands I swung our arms up and down a bit as I planned my move. He was here with me. I had him all to myself in these quiet moments in the morning. The moon was our only witness, the only light to see him by. 
He was strong, my Julian. Broad shoulders and strong arms. Broad chest leading into a small waist that I could wrap my arms around so easily. A face with strong lips always with a smile on them. Grey eyes. Grey eyes filled with so much adoration for me it hurt. Messy auburn hair falling around his face in soft waves. 
I haven’t gotten to look at him, truly look at him in a while. 
I repeated what he did to me moments prior. I kissed his hands. His large calloused hands that had seen so much blood. Helped so many. Let go of more. His breathing hitched as I kissed each of his fingertips. 
I kissed his wrists, biting softly at the skin there, just kneading it between my teeth for a heartbeat. His heart thudded softly. Soft feathery kisses up his forearm and against his elbow. Up his biceps, pausing at each scar to give it it’s own kiss. 
“Oh darling,” he breathed. 
I said nothing, just kissed his shoulders. “You have very cold hands,” he whispered as I ran my hands up his chest. 
I kissed the skin of shoulder meeting neck, raising my eyes to meet his. “I should say the same about you.”
He chuckled, the sound cutting out as I took the skin between my teeth. “Oh,” he said, his voice turning into a soft moan that warmed my stomach. 
I let it go too soon, and I knew it was too soon when he let out a small huff. Hiding my smile with more kisses I moved on. 
Up his neck, biting softly and kissing as I went. He squirmed a bit, hands moving down to my waist. Fingers drummed along my hips, drumming to the tune of his choked hum. 
I came to the spot I knew he liked biting best. The muscle behind his ear, meeting his jaw. I kissed it softly, before biting down. 
The noise he made sent sparks through my veins. A breathy mix between a sigh, moan and groan. 
He made it again when I flicked my tongue over the spot I bit. 
“Careful now darling,” he breathed, chest heaving against my fingers. His heart thudded so quickly against my touch. “I might just need to have you noooooooo-” he let out another moan, cutting himself off as I bit down on the spot again. 
“Hush now my love,” I whispered, moving on to kiss where his jaw met his ear. He let out another hum of pleasure. 
“Mmm I love you,” he whispered. 
I planted a kiss on his jaw, his cheeks, the tip of his nose. The bridge of his nose. I had to stand on my toes to kiss his forehead, him bending down to the touch. 
“I love you too,” I whispered as I kissed his temple. 
“Mmm kiss me,” he murmured. 
I let out a small giggle. “I am kissing you.”
His eyes snapped up to meet mine. “No I want a real kiss.”
“What’s the magic word?”
“Please.”
The pleading tone of his voice made me pause. I grinned, making him wilt a little bit, the two of us still swaying and shifting our weight from foot to foot. 
“Say it again.”
“Please.”
I held his face in my hands. “One more time?”
“Only if you say it back.”
I giggled. “Please?”
He didn’t respond, just kissed me. I didn’t care that he didn’t say it again. I didn’t care that I felt sticky and warm. 
I just cared that he was here with me. 
I moved my hands from his face, wrapping my arms around his neck again. He leaned into me, making me hold onto him for balance as he pressed me against the counter. 
His lips were needy. Begging mine. Pleading with me. They whispered things we left unsaid. They whispered apologizes and littles pleas. 
I only hoped mine held the answers. 
“Darling,” he said, lips brushing against mine with the word. 
I slowly opened my eyes, he was so close. So close. So heartbreakingly close. Illuminated by moonlight he seemed like some ethereal being. 
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry.”
I blinked. “Julian...you don’t have anything to be sorry for. You got caught up in work that’s f-fine.” My voice caught on fine. It cracked. 
He knew it wasn’t fine. 
“You stuttered,” he said, nuzzling my face. “That means you’re lying. It’s not fine. I know it’s not fine.”
“But-”
“Let me finish. I got caught up because everyone is getting hurt all the time. There aren’t many doctors or help in my clinic. I really do need to hire.” I let out a breathy laugh. “I’ll set that up tomorrow. I swear it.”
“You haven’t come through with your promises as of late.”
He kissed my cheek. “I know and I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry too. For not...trying.”
“Darling you of all people have nothing to be sorry for!” He sounded offended. 
I offered him a small smile. “But I do. I didn’t try. This is a two way street. If I want something I need to give something in return. I love you Julian, and I’m sorry for not trying. Not trying to see you. Not trying to see if you can take a break.”
“Sweetheart. Love of mine. My darling. Dearest. You understand how important work is to me, and that’s why you stayed away.”
I looked away. “I do. But I still care about your wellbeing and I should have said something.”
There was a small rumble from him. A chuckle. “We both should have to be honest.”
I laughed. “Yeah, we should’ve.”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
He took his face out of my cheek, kissing me softly. “For loving me. The mess that I am.”
I didn’t argue with it. He was a mess.
And so was I.
“Thank you for loving me. All my broken pieces,” I said, pulling him closer. “And for helping me find my pieces still missing.”
He kissed me again. And again. 
“Broken is not the same as unfixable my dear. And you are wonderful and perfect no matter how many pieces seem to be broken or missing.”
I sealed my mouth over his, breaking away after a few moments of just enjoying how he tasted. Smelled.
Felt.
“Well Dr. Devorak. I’m here now. With you.”
His eyes lit up with mischief and something more. “Alone…” he said.
I kissed his cheek. “So what are you going to do about it?”
He picked me up, making me let out a small squeal. I wrapped my legs around his waist, clinging to him like ivy. His arms fell back around my waist, squeezing my butt making me laugh. 
With another sweet kiss to my lips he whispered, “I guess we’ll have to see.”
The door to our bedroom clicked as it closed. 
103 notes · View notes
platypanthewriter · 3 years
Text
Popsicles
Tumblr media
Harringrove April day 17, Popsicles.  Tews commits crimes, and Steve and Billy work some things out because of them.
It started the day Dustin’s cat was convicted of theft.  
They held a trial, with Mrs. Henderson crying on the couch, Mike arguing for the prosecution, Lucas for the defense, and Max as the expert witness, pointing out that a wedding ring was much too large to fit into the mouth of a small cat.
Will presided over the trial and declared her guilty, on the grounds that she had been the one to smack it around the counter when Mrs. Henderson sat it next to the sink while she fixed a leak in the pipes.  It took her all day, and the handles turned the wrong way now, but the sink worked again, and in her triumph, she’d gone to take a shower.
Tews had given in to temptation and the call of the One Ring, and leaped up to pat it into, they all suspected, the Mount Doom of the kitchen, the crack between the counter and the stove.  Dustin was also sentenced, as the one who had seen a small cat succumb to the call of Sauron, and done nothing to save her from his influence.  
They’d all tried to pull it out for hours, with coathangers, the mop handle, and even the feather duster, with no success, and Tews had compounded her crimes by pouncing on all their weaponry.  El tried last, glowering into the depths, but no ring had emerged.
Tews was convicted of grand feline theft for stealing Sauron’s one ring, which they assessed at over one thousand dollars.
“It’s not as though Sauron made more,” Mike pointed out, and Will nodded, his lips thinning grimly.  “And it says here,” Mike said, hefting the law book he’d snagged from the library, “—that burglarizing someone’s house while they’re home heightens the offense.”  
“She also tried to pretend she was actually playing with a potato chip,” Dustin sighed.  “Wasting the investigation’s time, and perverting the course of justice.”
“And jumped on my head,” Will pointed out.
“Assaulting a respected and valued member of the court,” Mike said.
“Tews,” Dustin sighed, holding her up.  “I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed.”  She squirmed, meowing, and batted at his nose, and Lucas grimaced.  
“Harsh, man,” he said.
“I’m gonna have to say guilty,” Will said, shaking his head.  
“Let’s go light on the sentencing, though,” said Max, distracting the defendant with a piece of string.  “—you don’t want her coming out a more hardened criminal than she went in.”
“She’s showing no remorse,” Mike said, as Tews wriggled on the carpet, batting at their pant legs.  “I recommend house arrest to the jury.”  He picked her up and presented her to El.  “Don’t let pity sway you,” he said.  “If some innocent creature finds the One Ring where it fell, their heart will be darkened.”
“She played with powers she did not understand,” Dustin agreed.
El blinked at them, and then at Tews, dangling resignedly from Mike’s hands.  “Uh,” she said.  
 In the kitchen, a trickle from Mrs. Henderson’s homemade popsicles ran from the freezer down into the fridge.
 A week later, Billy walked in and slid his arms around Steve’s waist while Steve was brushing his teeth.  In the mirror, he had a weird look on his face.  “...Harrington,” he muttered.
“F’meah?” Steve asked, his mouth full of toothpaste, and Billy raised his eyebrows.  
“...just ate a popsicle…” he said, dragging it out, like Steve was supposed to make something of that.
“Hngmm?” he asked, intelligently.
“From the freezer,” Billy said, widening his eyes further, like that was helpful info.
Steve spit, and rinsed his mouth.  “That’s where we keep ‘em,” he said, staring back, because he could be just as unhelpful, if he tried.  He’d learned from the best.
Billy turned his head, groaning against Steve’s neck.  Billy’s face was red, Steve realized, and he turned in Billy’s arms—narrowly avoiding elbowing him in the face—and gave him a kiss—minty from his toothpaste, and cherry-flavored, because Billy’s lips and tongue were still red from Mrs. Henderson’s homemade popsicles.  Billy’s face was hot against Steve’s hands, and he was a little shaky, his eyes shiny and teary, and Steve wiped a thumb under Billy’s thick lashes.  
Billy wrapped his arms around Steve’s ribs and hauled him out of the bathroom, tossing him on the bed, and sat on his chest, glowering down.  “Why’re you playing innocent about this,” he hissed, grabbing Steve’s hands.  “I ate a fucking popsicle, okay, it’s hot here at fucking eight o’clock in the morning.”
There was a different kind of heat on Steve’s mind, with Billy’s weight on his ribcage, and Billy’s chest and face filling Steve’s vision, but he cleared his throat, opening his mouth, as Billy whipped a wedding ring out of nowhere and waved it in his face.
“...you want to get married,” Steve whispered, his face heating as fast as Billy’s, like the blood tap in his chest had been turned entirely to ‘hot’.  “Y-you want to marry me?”
“We can’t just walk into a church—” Billy growled, his fingers tightening on Steve’s wrists, and Steve started giggling, smiling so wide his face hurt.  
“You want to, though,” he breathed.  
“...I don’t wanna walk into a fucking church,” Billy groaned, letting Steve reach up and touch his face.  “Rent some...shitty tux.  Make invitations.”
“But you do wanna be married to me,” Steve told him, beaming.  “You want me wearing your ring.  You want everybody to know I’m yours.” 
“Fuck yeah I want that,” Billy said softly, sighing.  “Too bad we can’t have—”
“I can wear a ring,” Steve pointed out.  “We can have a party.  We can—we can make Hopper say vows.”
“...I’m just picturing it like him saying grace, that time,” Billy said, grimacing, and Steve burst into snickers.
“Good men, nice bed, well done, be wed,” he offered, and Billy cracked up, leaning in to kiss him, softly, and then lie on top of him, sighing.  He was hot, and suddenly Steve wanted a popsicle, so he kissed Billy again, tasting the cherry on his lips.  “...I want a popsicle too,” he realized.  “For breakfast.”
“...anything more we’re gonna find in there?” Billy asked, raising his eyebrows.  He didn’t shift, so instead of getting up, Steve ran his fingers over Billy’s side, and then squeezed him, at the thought that Billy Hargrove wanted to marry him.  It was weird, and Steve couldn’t help snickering again, and kissing Billy’s hair.  “...didn’t even know we had a popsicle making...thing,” Billy mumbled, squirming even though he couldn’t get closer.  “...they’re pretty good, though.  You’re such a freak, jesus.”
Steve opened his mouth, closed it, and considered his sudden memory of Dustin bringing over a casserole, and the bag of homemade popsicles.  He remembered, additionally, Dustin saying they’d held a trial for his cat, and started laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe.
 When Billy could get Steve to speak in sentences again, instead of gasping, he stared.  “You—you’re saying…” he said, clenching the wedding ring in a white-knuckled hand.  
“We have to give it back,” Steve told him, kissing his face.  “We’ll get one that fits you, babe.  We’ll go pick it out.”
“I thought you were asking me,” Billy said, his shoulder blades hitting the wall as he backed away.  “I—I thought—”
“I’ve wanted to, I would’ve,” Steve lied, remorselessly, because he hadn’t thought Billy had the same dumb fantasies he did, and he wouldn’t have asked, for fear of Billy laughing him off.  “I want to, I do, we’ll—look,” he said, setting his shoulders.  “I’ll take off work.  We’ll go today, and give Dustin’s mom her ring back on the way home.”
“Make an honest man of me, Harrington,” Billy said, smirking over at him, but he didn’t let go of the ring he’d found in his popsicle until he had another one sized for his finger, and Steve had pulled the car over, and slid it on Billy’s hand with an accompanying kiss.
“Think it’d take more than this,” Steve said, as Billy slid Steve’s onto his finger.
“...we coulda got cockrings instead,” Billy whispered against Steve’s lips, and Steve snorted a laugh.
“Yeah, but if the idea is you want the bank teller to know I’m yours, d’you really want me arrested?”
 Tews was cleared of grand feline theft, though not of the various cat crimes of jumping on the head of the judge, and interfering with an active investigation.  Dustin apologized to her, though, and gave her most of a can of tuna, after running back to his mom’s room with the ring.  
“It was my mother’s,” she said, when she came out to feed them more popsicles.  Steve and Billy eyed each other over them, holding them up to the light to survey for more valuables, or spiders, possibly, Steve thought.  He half expected to find a LEGO man fighting a toy dragon, but all he could see was red, so he bit carefully, and looked up to see Billy watching his mouth, and swallowing.  
“We’ll get on planning you a ceremony right away,” Dustin told Steve and Billy, his eyes on their matching rings, and they shook their heads rapidly, but Dustin stood, waving his fist at the sky.  “Lord of the Rings themed!”
 Steve threw a piece of tuna to make Tews climb up Dustin’s leg, and they escaped.
The other Harringrove April prompts I’ve done
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shera-dnd · 3 years
Link
It’s here! The ultimate crossover poly ship we’ve all been waiting for!
But wait, there is more! This is a buy one get two deal, so there is a bonus crossover poly ship added there for free!
Also if you’d like your fic ideas to be written by me or just want to help me keep the lights on, consider donating to my ko-fi (rules over here)
alright with that out of the way. It’s time to enjoy some gay shit
“Sato, tell me again why we’re doing this,” Catra asked with a loud groan, shielding her face as best as she could.
It was a beautiful and sunny summer day at the park, and that meant Catra and Asami were suffering like the sad goths they were as they were dragged along by the ever cheerful Korra and Adora.
“Because we love them dearly,” Asami huffed, exhausted from the heat, “and we can’t just keep them inside all summer.”
“Ugh, are we going on a picnic with our girlfriends here, or walking our dogs?” Catra complained.
As if on cue Adora and Korra turned to look at them, energetically waving at them as they finally found a nice place to set up. Their smiles were so bright that Catra was happy she had put on sunscreen earlier.
“Both,” Asami said, adjusting her sunglasses.
Slowly they walked up to the over excited duo. Thankfully the two of them managed to find a nice patch of shade they could set up under, and not have to melt under the sun like a couple of angsty popsicles.
“Blanket?” Adora asked, promptly taking the leading and organizing position she was born for.
“Check!” Catra replied, getting a cheap picnic blanket from her bag.
“Water?”
“Check,” Korra answered, taking several bottles of water from her backpack.
“Sandwiches?”
“Check,” Asami said, before adding, “I made them.”
“And sodas?”
Korra shoved her arm back into her backpack and began yanking all the soda cans out with far too much enthusiasm. The three of them stopped and glared, getting her to stop before she could slam the cans down...again. As hilarious as it would have been to watch Korra accidentally spray herself again, they actually wanted to drink their sodas this time.
Adora gave them all a satisfied nod, before proudly declaring, “and with that, our picnic date is ready to start!”
“Wow, so romantic, Adora,” Catra rolled her eyes, “nothing makes a girl feel more special than a bunch of checklists.”
“Well I appreciate it when a girl comes prepared,” Asami countered, giving Adora a kiss on the cheek for support.
“Of course you do, Sato,” Catra shook her head and rolled her eyes.
The two of them stuck their tongues at each other for a bit, in what their girlfriends could only assume was their more...unique approach to flirting.
Deciding now was a good time to change the topic away from those two dorks, Korra approached the trio with her arms behind her back.
“Hey, Adora,” she called, earning a glare from Catra, who had nearly patented that line, “you sure we aren’t missing something?”
Adora checked her list a second time, even rereading the things she brought there herself, “I don’t think so?”
Korra smiled as she brought her hands forward, revealing the football she had been hiding behind her. Adora’s hands flew to her mouth to contain a gasp, and looked up at Korra as if she had just whipped out a wedding ring. Catra and Asami were extremely unimpressed.
They barely got to finish setting up before those two darted off to go run around and throw that ball like the pair of adorable goofballs they were.
“Looks like it’s just the two of us again, Applesauce,” Asami commented, sitting comfortably in the shade.
“Yup,” Catra nodded, sitting next to her. She allowed a long pause to pass by before adding, “wanna makeout?”
“Thought you’d never ask,” Asami replied, scooting closer and hooking her arms around Catra’s neck.
Catra leaned in, lips slightly parting as they came closer to Asami’s… before being so rudely interrupted by Korra clearing her throat. The two edgy idiots looked up at her, seeing her and Adora standing over them with crossed arms.
“Don’t we do this every day at school?” Korra asked, brow raised in annoyance.
“Yeah,” Catra replied, refusing to move away from Asami, “your point?”
“This is a date,” Adora added, hitting them with her most powerful puppy dog eyes, “can’t you guys please play with us for a bit?”
Both of them groaned and looked at each other. Asami looked ready to give in at the slightest hint of that adorable face, but Catra had years of experience with saying no to it.
“Yeah, I’m not doing that,” Catra answered.
“Oh well,” Adora sighed, “you asked for it.”
They were barely given a moment to process what that meant, before Korra and Adora hoisted them up, and tossed them over their shoulders like sacks of potatoes. Asami yelped loudly, but accepted her fate. Catra, on the other hand, kicked and screamed the entire way, nearly punching Adora in the face more than once.
“I’ll fucking kill you!” She shouted, “put me down, or I fucking swear!”
Adora simply laughed as she carried her girlfriend along to the nice open space where they were playing just a moment ago.
“Only if you promise to play with us,” she replied.
“Fine!” Catra yelled, “just put me down!”
Adora gently put her down and shot her a beaming smile. Oh she was lucky she was so cute, or Catra would have kicked her ass right now. Instead she just adjusted her clothes, fixed her hair so it would be the correct kind of messy, and huffed.
“So what exactly are you making us play?”
“We don’t need to play an actual game,” Korra answered, “we just wanted to have fun with you guys.”
Catra seemed unconvinced. They should have known she wouldn’t participate if she couldn’t make a competition out of it.
“Okay, how about this,” Adora offered, “we split into teams of two, and we try to just toss the ball between team members without letting the other two catch it. Whoever keeps the ball with their team the longest wins. Sounds fun for you?”
Catra pondered for a moment, seeming satisfied with these terms of engagement she declared, “I’m on team Korra!”
“What!?” Adora exclaimed, her expression one of utter and absolute betrayal, “why?”
“She’s the tallest one here,” Catra explained, casually, “it’s an obvious tactical advantage.”
“By an inch!” Adora countered, still stunned that Catra would ever abandon her like this...again.
“Don’t worry, Adora,” Asami said, putting a hand on her shoulder for reassurance, “we’ll make sure she regrets that”.
Oh no. Korra and Adora looked at each other as they both realized that they may have made a terrible mistake.
What followed was easily the most intense game of keepaway any of them had ever played. Though intensity was just about the only thing Catra and Asami were providing for this match up. Not that the other two minded much - they were genuinely just happy to play with their girlfriends for once - but they were starting to worry one of them was gonna end up doing something stupid.
It wasn’t long until they were proven right. Catra caught a ball meant for Adora and instead of throwing it to Korra, she decided the best strategy was to just run for it. The three of them watched stunned as she bolted off into the park like she was being chased by the hounds of hell. Asami gave chase soon after, so the assumption wasn’t all wrong.
Korra and Adora just stood there, watching as their girlfriends ran after each other, shouting insults at one another.
“We should have known that was gonna happen,” Adora commented with a defeated sigh.
“Well, at least we got them to exercise for once,” Korra offered.
“Yeah,” she nodded, watching those two for just a bit longer before adding, “wanna make out?”
“Sure,” Korra shrugged, “not like they’re gonna be back any time soon.”
~~~
Korra leaned back and closed her eyes, allowing herself to enjoy the cool breeze that blew past their little spot. She took a nice, long sip of her soda and let out a satisfied sigh. Yeah, this picnic was just what she needed.
“Water,” groaned the mostly dead girl to her side.
Catra laid there, sprawled face down on the picnic blanket, barely able to do anything but groan, and complain after completely draining herself like that. She couldn’t help but laugh a little, playing with her girlfriend’s hair before handing her the much needed cold water.
The poor girl groaned something sounding almost similar to a thank you, before chugging the whole bottle down in record time and then flopping back to her sprawled position.
“So what did we learn?” Adora asked, with that particular tone she had at times that made Korra wonder if she ever considered becoming a teacher one day.
“Never to exercise again,” Catra answered.
“No,” she corrected, “don’t over exert yourself
“Also don’t wear all black to a picnic,” Korra added, “I’m surprised you two didn’t cook alive.”
“We did,” Asami replied.
“And that’s why we brought all this water,” Adora said proudly as she handed Asami her own water bottle.
“What would we do without you?” Asami praised.
“We wouldn’t have gone out in this fucking heat that’s for sure,” Catra complained.
“Can you do something other than complain?” Asami asked.
“No,” she replied without a second of hesitation, “also scoot over, you’re hogging all the shade.”
“Sorry, Applesauce, but I won. I hold all the shade privileges now,” she proudly declared, earning a weak little kick from a completely burned out Catra.
“Don’t be like that,” Adora sighed and crawled closer to her girlfriend. She ran her fingers through Catra’s hair, scratching her in this very particular way that only Adora knew how to do, and soon it was like angry asshole Catra had never been there, now replaced with just soft asshole Catra.
“Asami is right,” Catra said, sounding so content with everything, “what would we do without you?”
“Oh, are we showing her some love now?” Korra asked, scooting closer and hugging Adora from behind, “mind if I join in? ‘Cause I got plenty.”
Following her example the other two joined in the PDA, Asami leaning against her shoulder, and Catra resting her head on her lap. Adora looked like she was on the verge of tears.
“Y-You guys,” she whined, trying not to crumble into an emotional mess, “I love you so much.”
“We love you too,” Korra answered, kissing her cheek. The others hummed in agreement.
“This means a lot,” she replied, sniffing loudly, “but you’re all really sweaty and it’s way, way too hot for PDA right now.”
Korra and Asami muttered some agreements and promptly moved away, fanning themselves a little to help cool down. Catra, on the other hand, refused to move and in fact even pressed a little closer.
“Are you gonna move?” Adora asked, amused.
“Nope,” Catra replied, “you’re too comfortable.”
Not wanting to disturb this rare moment of peace, Adora accepted her fate, and returned to her duty as Catra’s primary source of scratches.
After that initial burst of energy the rest of the day was surprisingly peaceful. Well, besides a small argument over who had the worst taste in music, and who should or shouldn’t be allowed to have the aux cord. But other than that it was a calm and peaceful day.
Slowly but surely, the shade grew a bit longer and the day grew a bit colder. Night was about to fall, and it was time to move to part two of their wonderful summer date. Milkshakes at the diner. Korra’s kinda sorta aunt Kya ran the place with her wives, so she let Korra and all her friends - and girlfriends - hangout for as long as they wanted.
The four of them greeted Kya before taking their usual table. Catra did not waste a single second trying to sit like a normal person, she promptly tossed her legs over Adora’s lap, and leaned back against the wall, phone already in hand.
“Hey, look at that,” she commented, “Blight dyed her hair purple.”
“Maybe she decided green hair was too straight for her,” Korra joked, “I’m surprised she didn’t go with blue.”
“Well, I think purple works really well for her,” Adora commented, “I mean, all her clothes are already black and purple.”
“All of your clothes are white or red, but I don’t see you dying your hair,” Catra commented, archiving the mental image of redhead Adora for later.
Adora opened her mouth to argue, but was interrupted by Asami, “babe, your hair is wonderful, don’t let her bully you into doing something stupid with it.”
Catra looked ready to throw her phone, “hey, I aint bullying anyone!”
“I see you kids are as cheerful as ever,” Castaspella greeted as she reached them, putting their food on the table, “here are your milkshakes, and the fries are on the house.”
“We really don’t mind paying for it, aunt Casta,” Korra assured her.
“Nonsense, let us spoil you kids a little,” Casta replied, with a wave, “besides, consider this a little thank you for helping our niece get a date.”
“Wait!” Catra interrupted, very confused for a moment, “Amity is your niece?”
“No, silly, I meant Luz,” she chuckled, “she was so in love with that Blight girl that she wouldn’t stop talking to Lilith about how amazing she was. It was adorable.”
Adora blinked a couple of times as she realized that meant that Luz and Glimmer were technically related now. She then vowed to herself to neverr let them find out, their power and chaos combined would be far too much for the world.
“Uh, glad we could help I guess?” Korra offered with a weak smile, completely unaware of the small crisis going on in Adora’s head. Aunt Casta laughed a little at the awkwardness, before leaving to tend to the other tables.
And now that they were left alone it was time to dig in. As usual Adora practically inhaled her food, and had to be stopped by Catra before she choked on something. Also as usual they were all dipping their fries in their milkshakes, with the sole exception of Asami.
“I still don’t know how you guys manage to eat that,” she commented.
Adora loudly swallowed a whole portion of milkshake covered fries in one go - earning an exasperated sigh from Catra - and answered, “it’s good!”
“Is it though?”
“What? Is this unsuitable for your refined palate, princess?” Catra teased.
“It’s…weird,” she replied.
“Hey, I’m weird, and you still love me,” Korra commented, leaning a little closer to her.
“You know what I meant,” she complained even as she leaned back against Korra.
“Don’t you wanna at least give it a try?” Korra asked, offering one of her own fries, “for me?”
That was a cheap trick, and Korra knew it, but it worked. Asami leaned in and took a bite of those fries without even taking them from Korra’s hand. There was a certain romance to eating food from your lover’s hands, or at least there would be if her two other lovers weren’t being little shits and snickering the entire time.
Asami glared at the two of them as she slowly ate her fries, trying to properly savor them, to fully grasp their flavor profile. Adora did a little heart with her hands and blew her a kiss in an attempt to mitigate her annoyance.
It worked better than she would like to admit.
“So how is it?” Korra asked.
Asami swallowed and paused, seeming to ponder her answer for a moment. “It was...better than I expected.”
Korra laughed and shot her a beaming smile, “told you it was good.”
Asami couldn’t respond for a moment as she was too busy being reminded that Korra was a blessing to humanity, and that she was so lucky to be able to call her her girlfriend.
“Well uh...thanks for making me try it,” she mumbled. Trying her best to save herself before Catra and Adora - especially Catra - could make any comments on her loss of composure, Asami dipped one of her fries on her milkshake and offered it to Korra, “here.”
Korra eagerly and happily took a bite off of it.
“That’s so fucking gay,” Catra commented.
“Catra, we’ve all been dating for months,” Adora countered.
“Yeah, your point?” She asked, sticking her tongue out at her.
“You’re the worst, you know that?” Asami replied.
“Complain all you want, princess. You all love me, and you know it.”
The table collectively groaned - Asami burying her head in her hand - all fully aware that she was completely right.
~~~
Eventually the conversation died down. It was late and they had spent all day with each other, but they all knew they’d have to part ways eventually. They all knew they’d probably see each other tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, and every day for as long as they could. But that didn’t mean they enjoyed bringing the date to a close.
Adora especially seemed extra clingy today as she gave all three of her girlfriends tight, rib-crushing hugs. The others were far more subtle about it, but it was still there. In the lingering touches after a hug, the yearning looks after a kiss. It was that unspoken want to stay just a little longer, to never let go.
Maybe one day they’d all walk together to their own home, and cuddle together in their own bed, but today they all had different places to return to and they had to go their separate ways. In the end only Korra was left standing in front of the diner.
“Hey, kid,” aunt Kya called, “you want a ride back to your parent’s place?”
“You really don’t--”
“What did Casta say about letting us spoil you?” She interrupted. There was no arguing with her.
Next thing Korra knew she was in Kya’s car, watching the lamp posts pass by them as she took her home.
“You should bring them over more often,” Kya commented.
“I’ll try,” Korra replied.
“I’m serious,” she insisted, “you know we all love when you bring the girls over. It reminds us of the good old days.”
“The good old days?” Korra asked, somewhat amused.
“Back when we were your age,” she explained, “back then it wasn’t exactly okay for a girl to want to be with another girl, let alone two. But even then we knew we wanted nothing more than to be together, just the three of us, for as long as life would let us.”
Korra thought back to that idea of sharing a place with them, living every day with them, making days like this the norm. It all sounded so wonderful.
“Yeah,” she replied, “I think I get it.”
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wiypt-writes · 3 years
Text
What The Stark Spangled F**k?
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A Stark Spangled Forever One Shot: Capsicle
Summary- Rori and Jamie spark some memories of Tony, and Rori plays her dad, well and truly!
Warnings- Some language words!
Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.
Stark Spangled Forever Masterlist // Main Masterlist
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“Honey!” Steve called, shutting the door behind him. “I’m home!”
He tossed his keys into the dish on the sideboard in the hallway, smiling at the photo of Lucky that sat just behind it with their old dog’s collar looped over the frame. Kicking off his shoes he stowed them in the rack before he shrugged off his jacket. It wasn’t often he wore a suit to work but there’d been a faculty meeting today with a few of the Deans present so he’d thought it was appropriate. Katie had approved a great deal that morning too…
Speaking of which…
“Doll?” he called again as he headed towards the bottom of the stairs, dropping his jacket over the bannister.
“Hey Soldier!” she called back, “I’m just changing Harry…he decided to tip the entire contents of his dinner down him. Guess he doesn’t like sweet potato…”
“Don’t blame him.” Steve yelled back “It’s disgusting.”
“Oh hush…” she shouted back, as he gave a chuckle.
“DADDDYYYYY!” he heard a familiar call and a door flew open upstairs, Rori bounding down the steps to greet him already dressed in her pyjamas as it was almost 7.
“Hey Princess!” he smiled, catching her as she threw herself at him from 5 steps up. “Did you have a good day.”
“Yeah!” she grinned “We learnded about numbers and I did the alphabet, although one of the other girls was mean to me.”
“Mean to you?” Steve looked at her “How?”
“She said nasty things.” Rori looked down, fiddling with his tie.
“Oh baby…” he said, kissing her head. “Wanna tell me about it?”
“Can I have a Capsicle? I ate all my dinner…”
Steve sighed, “You mean posicle?”
“Emmy says they’re capsicles…” she shrugged.
Thanks Tony for that one…
Steve looked at Rori  for a moment as she turned her big green eyes on him and he gave another sigh and nodded.
“Whatever, sure, come on…”
Shifting so she was on his hip, he continued his way down the hall and popped his head into the den where Jamie and his friend Sebastian were sprawled on the sofa, playing a computer game. Stark was led at Jamie’s feet chewing some kind of squeaky toy, his bushy tail thumped lazily as he glanced up at Steve before resuming his eager chomping.
“Hey fellas.” he smiled.
“Hi Mr Rogers.” Sebastian looked at him smiling.
“Hey dad.” Jamie muttered, eyes not moving from the game.
“Just gonna get Rori a popsicle, you want one?”
“No thanks, mom said when you were home we could get pizza as it’s Friday and Seb is sleeping over…” Jamie said, before he yelled “Dude, you let him get away…”
“Sorry Jay…” Seb replied, his tongue poking out from his mouth as he tapped at the controller.
Steve watched the two 9 year olds for a second before his attention turned to the TV.
“What are you playing?” Steve frowned, watching as something exploded on the screen.
“Avengers Alien Invasion…” Jamie said, before he paused the game and looked up at his dad, grinning “Bet it’s not as fun as when it actually happened for real in New York…”
“Fun isn’t’ exactly the word I would…” Steve trailed off “Hang on, did you say Avengers…”
“Yeah!” Sebastian nodded, “It’s a computer game from like years ago. We found it in my brother’s room. Mrs Rogers said it would be ok…”
“So, like, it has the Avengers Characters in it?”
“Yup.” Jamie nodded.
Steve frowned further, before he grinned and looked at his son. “So which one are you?”
“Iron Man.” Jamie shot back
“Seriously?” Steve looked at him, his voice indignant.
“No offence, but in the game Uncle Nee’s powers are awesome.”
“I’m Captain America Mr Rogers….” Sebastian smiled at him “After Tony you have the most power.”
Steve stood there for a moment before he scoffed and shook his head “Whatever…”
He turned to leave the room, closing the door behind him as the sounds from the TV started again. Trying not to feel too offended at the fact his own son had chosen Tony over him on a damned computer game, he headed into the kitchen setting Rori down on the counter.
He opened the freezer, dug out a blue popsicle for her (her favoured colour, unlike her traitorous older brother) and handed it to her.
“So, wanna tell me what happened?” he asked, leaning on the breakfast bar, looking at her as she sat perched by the refrigerator opposite him.
“So we were doing the alphabet and some words…and I knew them all. But I was good daddy, I put my hand up and I didn’t shout out…but Ariana called me a smart ass…”
She’s not wrong. Steve bit back the retort as he looked at his daughter’s indignant face, trying hard not to laugh at her expression. “Well that’s not very nice.”
“No, I told her that.”
“I’m sure you did.” Steve continued to hold his face straight.
“I told her she shouldn’t say mean things to people as it can make them cry.”
“Did you cry?”
“No.” Rori said, sucking her popsicle. “I called her an idiot instead.”
“Well you kinda lost the moral high ground there.” Steve chuckled as Rori cocked her head.
“What’s a moral high ground?”
“Nothing, doesn’t matter.” He said, straightening up as Katie walked into the room, a clean Harry on her hips.
“Hey…” Steve smiled as he gave her a kiss “Hey buddy!”
Harry grinned and held his arms out so Steve could take him. He kissed his cheek before he looked at Katie “How you feeling?”
She dropped her hands to her bump and sighed “Tired…”
Steve gave her a sympathetic smile, at almost 20 weeks now this pregnancy was taking its toll a lot more than the other 3 had. And he knew she was trying to be brave about it, despite how exhausted and worried she was about it all.
“Oh Steve!” she let out an exasperated sigh and he looked at her, frowning, before he followed her gaze to where Rori was sat eating her popsicle.
“What?” he frowned.
“I told her she wasn’t allowed one as she hadn’t eaten her dinner!”
Steve looked at Katie, then to Rori who looked at him innocently.
“Seriously?”
Rori shrugged, absolutely no fucks given that she’d just been completely busted after telling a big, fat lie to her dad.
“Aurora!” Steve said, sternly “I don’t like being lied to, you know that!”
She turned her eyes to his and looked at him “Sorry.”
“No you’re not.” Katie narrowed her eyes at her. She walked to remove the popsicle from her and Rori yelled, jerking her hand away.
“It’s mine.”
“I don’t care!” Katie said sternly. “You do not tell lies, and you do not go behind my back to your dad.”
Rori glared at her, before she held her hand out sighing as Katie took the item off her.  Rori rolled her eyes and before Steve or Katie could stop her she hopped off the counter, the part of her that was half super-soldier making it easy as she landed with a thud on her feet.
“Go upstairs and clean your hands.” Katie looked at her. Rori’s hand fell to her hips, mimicking her mother’s stance and Steve hastily looked away, to avoid laughing at the look on her face. She was so like Katie it was untrue and for the third time in ten minutes Steve found himself thinking about his late brother-in-law, wondering how on EARTH Tony dealt with Katie when she was growing up.
“Whatever.” Rori said, and she turned with a flounce and left the room.
“Honey, I didn’t know.” Steve began to protest his innocence as Katie rolled her eyes, picking up the popsicle which had started to melt down her wrist.
“You’re such a sucker where she’s concerned, Steven.” she said, her voice was stern but her eyes told him a different story as they shone with good humour.
“Only because she’s so much like her momma.” Steve winked. “I believe I’m also a sucker where you’re concerned.”
Katie snorted before she glanced at the popsicle in her hand and shoved it in her mouth, eyeing Steve as she did so.
“Pretty sure it’s me who does the sucking Soldier.” she said, her mouth making a popping noise as she pulled the ice lolly from her mouth.
At her actions Steve felt a familiar stirring in his pants.
“Behave.” He narrowed his eyes at her, as she grinned and shrugged, before she too flounced from the room calling to the boys in the den about ordering pizza.
“Women.” Harry mumbled to his father, in a tone that sounded ridiculously like Bucky leaving Steve in absolutely no doubt where he had learned it from. Steve looked at him, before giving a snort.
“You’re not wrong pal,” he chuckled, “you’re not wrong…”
 **Original Posting**
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lailyn · 3 years
Text
A Spoonful of Sugar
"I didn't know we had ice-cream!" 
In delight, Loki dipped his little finger in the gloopy mess in Stephen's bowl before his germaphobe of a boyfriend rapped his knuckles with the dessert spoon. 
He licked his pinkie and wrinkled his nose at the taste. "This is not ice-cream."
"It's frozen yoghurt," Stephen mumbled through a mouthful of tart, icy goodness. "It's healthier than ice cream. We can share?"
Loki made a face. "I'll stick to my dessert wine, thanks."
"Snob," Stephen snorted. He shoveled more of the frozen confection into his mouth. It was working wonderfully to counteract the heat from the chilli con carne they had for dinner. "It's my comfort food."
"What is a comfort food?"
"Food that gives you comfort." 
"Doesn't any food?"
"Hmm…" Stephen pondered the question seriously. "You are royalty so you must be used to the finer things in life. We peasants get by on cup noodles, cold pizza if we're lucky."
Loki appeared more grim than amused by Stephen's teasing. "I am no royalty. I never was."
A deep frown creased Stephen's forehead but he wisely did not press for clarification, only reached over to rub a hand up and down the side of Loki's bare arm soothingly. To call Loki prickly would be an understatement.
Finally placated, Loki leaned his head against Stephen's shoulder and sighed, wistful and with longing. "Torta di Ceci."
"Is that some kind of decadent chocolate torte?" Stephen ventured a guess. Loki's penchant for sweet things was legendary; the last time Loki had craved something, he made Stephen travel all the way to Vienna to procure the world-famous sachertorte from the world-famous Sacher Hotel.
Loki rolled his eyes. "My tastes do vary, you know."
"Says the guy who orders the same thing every time we get takeout."
"It is a new-found luxury for me," Loki reminisced. "I never ate a single dish enough times to have a favourite back in Asgard."
Stephen frowned. "Why not?"
Loki shrugged. "My Father's court was like any other royal court. It's easier for someone to poison you if they knew what you liked."
With a shudder, Stephen dropped the spoon into the lake of his melting dessert, fast losing his appetite. "I'm guessing this torta thing is not Asgardian in origin."
Loki spared him an amused smile. "It's a kind of flatbread made from chickpeas, a famous street food along the Ligurian coast in Tuscany." 
"So what's the story behind it?"
"Must there be one?"
"No. But you are very choosy with the things you like."
Loki went quiet for a few seconds. "Am I?" 
Stephen said nothing in response. It was more of a statement than a question from the sound of it, and besides, Loki had yet to answer his. 
"You were asking about the story?"
Stephen nodded and tried not to look too surprised; he had a long-standing suspicion that Loki was a closet mind-reader, both a fascinating and a terrifying one. 
"Back in the thirteenth century, a Genovese ship was caught in a thunderstorm at sea. The turbulence knocked over some barrels containing chickpea flour and olive oil, spilling their contents and mixing them with seawater," Loki said. "A few days later, they discovered that the briny mixture had dried in the sun into a paste."
"Sounds delicious," Stephen said dryly. 
"Must have been, for they scooped every bit of it off the floor and ate it clean." 
"A happy accident."
"I'm sorry?"
"Some of the most delicious creations were discovered by accident," Stephen explained. "Popsicles, potato chips, chocolate chip cookies...just to name a few."
Fine wrinkles creased Loki's forehead. He liked chocolate chip cookies. 
He watched Stephen spoon the last of his frozen yoghurt into his mouth. 
Loki caught himself imagining the spoon Stephen was licking was his tongue...and his stomach lurched.
Damn.
He liked Stephen Strange too. Perhaps a little too much. 
"Were we accidental too, do you think?"
The spoon stilled. 
Stephen slowly retrieved it from his mouth and carefully placed it back in the bowl without the slightest sound. 
"Nothing about us is accidental, babe."
"So it wasn't an accident that the ground fell out from beneath me..." Loki's voice hardened, "and I found myself kissing the floor of your precious Sanctum?"
Stephen turned his head and stared into the depth of Loki's eyes. Perhaps it was time to reveal the one secret he had never divulged to anyone before.
"Darling, I would have scooped you off the floor, every bit of you," Stephen confessed. "With my lips."
Loki regarded him with unreadable eyes. "Why didn't you?" 
Stephen smiled. "Come now. You were seconds away from stabbing me."
"I only stab the people I love."
Stephen would have laughed out loud had his stomach not suddenly lurched too. 
Love?
"But you stab everyone," he said weakly.
"Not everyone." 
Loki pried the bowl out of Stephen's petrified hands, placed it down on the coffee table, and positioned himself in Stephen's lap. 
"I'm choosy, remember?" Loki whispered, voice husky with want and wine. "And I choose you." 
Loki kissed Stephen's cold lips, warming them up over and over. "Out of all the people in this world…"
Choose me, Stephen begged silently. 
Choose me, again and again, and no other. 
And because Loki was a mind-reader like Stephen had always suspected,
"I will always choose you."
"Loki…"
"Always."
Emboldened by the vow, Stephen brought Loki's chin closer and kissed him tenderly,
I choose you.
For Loki was his lover. His happy accident. His comfort.
"I love you, Loki."
Loki laughed a merry laughter, tears in his eyes. "You'd better."
Stephen was right. Tongue tennis did taste better with healthier, fake ice-cream. 
Loki swooped down to reengage. 
"You'd better." 
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densi-mber · 3 years
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Frozen, Part 2
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A/N: Here’s the second part of Frozen. In the first part, Kensi and Deeks were trapped in the cold after hunting down some suspects. Deeks was also injured.
***
“Oh my god, babe, how could you not feel this?” Kensi asked, kneeling in front of Deeks with his shirt peeled up to chest. Fortunately the cut wasn’t terribly deep, but it was bad enough. Bad enough to have soaked through his shirt already.
“I feel it now,” Deeks said, yelping as she pressed down on the wound. “Actually, that really hurts. Stop poking it!”
“I’m trying to see how bad it is.”
“Well, your warm little hands are heating it up and now it’s burning.”
Her hands were anything but warm and his blood was actually starting to freeze on his skin and clothes.
“Ok, I’m going to put a bandage on this, see if you can get through to Eric,” she told him. She slipped off the small backpack which had a bare minimum of supplies, including a first-aid kit. She tossed an extra pair of gloves to Deeks while he called Eric and then ripped open a bandage.
“No signal,” he said a minute later, shaking his head.
“Damn it!” They couldn’t stay out here for much longer without any protection, especially with Deeks being wounded. She glanced at him, noticing that the tips of his ears were bright red and if she wasn’t mistaken, his lips were just the slightest bit blue. “Deeks, what happened to your hat?” she snapped, realizing that his hair was damp and loose around his face.
“I had to take it off cause I couldn’t hear anything and I lost it somewhere along the way,” he answered with a shrug. Kensi muttered under her breath, realizing how accusatory she sounded.
“I know you didn’t do it on purpose.” She grabbed his hand by way of apology, glancing around them.
“We need to start moving, Kens.”
“You really think we’re going to make it five miles in this cold?” she asked rhetorically. “And it’s only going to get worse in a couple hours.”
“No, I don’t think we’ll make it that far, but I remember Nell saying something about there being a bunch of old cabins around here,” he said with the barest of grins.
***
Have I ever-ah-mentioned how much I hate Iowa?” Deeks asked casually, pausing in between words to pull in shallow breaths. “We would never be in danger of freezing to death in Los Angeles.”
Despite his efforts to stay positive, the cold was definitely starting to get to him. His toes and fingers were stiff, although he supposed it was a good sign that they were still burning and not numb.
Plus, though he hadn’t dared mentioned it Kensi, exhaustion was starting to set in. His legs felt heavy and his abdomen somehow ached and felt numb at the same time. It was a disconcerting sensation.
“With our luck we’d get locked in an industrial freezer or something,” Kensi said with forced lightness, pausing in between words to breath. Her arms were firm around him, making sure he didn’t stumble over hidden tree roots and rocks.
“I think I saw that on a show once.”
“Cabin.”
“No, it was called Castle. You know, the one with Nathan Fillion where he’s a writer and-“
“No, there’s a cabin,” Kensi repeated, cutting off his tangent, and pointing to an area maybe a couple hundred feet away. Sure enough, there was a small cabin buried in a dense copse of trees.
“Fantastic,” he muttered. As they moved closer, it looked completely uninhabited and probably for some time, based on the piles of snow, debris around the doorway, and cobwebs in the windows.
Kensi cleared the snow away from one of the windows and peered in.
“It doesn’t look like there’s anyone inside. C’mon.” She shouldered the door open, which stuck a little, but eventually gave way with a loud creak.
“Very homey,” Deeks commented, shivering as they walked into the small space which was barely warmer than outside. It was pretty barren with jut a single cot and bare mattress that had definitely seen better days, a splintered cupboard with a couple pots on top, and most importantly, a fireplace.
“Sit down, I’m going to look for some blankets and firewood,” Kensi directed him.
“I can help,” he offered, feeling pretty stupid just standing there. It was partially his fault they were in this situation. If he’d been a little more careful, he wouldn’t have gotten stabbed. “The faster we heat this place up, the less chance we have of becoming popsicles.”
Kensi shook her head, already searching through the cupboard. She pulled out a box of instant potatoes and a can of beans and set them to the side.
“And the more you move around, the more you’ll aggravate your wound.” She turned back to look at him with another can of beans and Campbell’s chicken soup in her hands. The faded labels on both made Deeks think they’d been sitting there untouched for several years. “Are you saying you don’t have faith in my fire building skills?”
Her breath puffed out in a great white cloud as she attempted to keep her teeth from chattering. He could tell the cold was getting to her too, but predictably, she was ignoring it.
“I would never,” he said, dropping his backpack beside the cot. “Kensi Marie Blye’s survival skills are world renowned and-agh!” He’d sat down and his cut gave a painful, tearing sensation. Kensi spun around immediately at his scream, but he waved her off, ignoring the fresh gush of blood he felt seeping into his shirt. “I’m fine. I just sat down too fast. Did you find any blankets?”
She gave him a suspicious look, turning back to the cupboard, and pulling out some more random items before she made a triumphant sound.
“Three,” she said, throwing him a grayish bundle. “They look a little thin, but I guess it’s better than nothing. Ok, I’ll get some fire wood and then we’re bandaging your cut again. Don’t touch it until I get back.”
Deeks rolled his eyes at her instructions, which seemed a little ridiculous given the severity of said cut, but didn’t protest. He knew Kensi was worried and felt better knowing where he was.
After a few minutes, he stood up again and started pacing, trying to force some feeling into his legs. He tucked his hands under his armpits, singing “Staying Alive” to himself until his voice grew hoarse. Every few seconds, a blast of wind tore through the cabin and blew in bits of snow through minute cracks in the walls and ceiling.
Just as he was getting ready to go after Kensi, the door slammed open again, and she stumbled in with a giant armload of logs and branches.
“I found some wood,” she said unnecessarily as he rushed to help her. “There’s a shack about half a mile from here filled with chopped wood. I left another pile outside.” Her entire face was red and wind-chapped and Deeks wanted to demand she immediately get in bed and cover up.
Since that didn’t seem likely to happen, he brought in the rest of the wood while she was distracted with building a fire. By the time he finished, his hands were completely numb, his clothes completely wet and sticking to his skin.
As Kensi finished lighting the fire, he noticed her hands shaking uncontrollably, making her movements jerky and uncoordinated. She’d spent even more time outside, completely unprotected. She fumbled with the lighter a couple times before she managed to set the kindling on top of the logs aflame.
He grabbed one of her hands between his and rubbed them, wincing at the bright red color, and nearly white tips of her fingers.
“Baby, we need to get you warmed up,” he said, starting to get truly worried about hypothermia. Even with the fire, it would tale at least a couple hours before the cabin was warm.
“I’m fine Deeks,” she insisted, tugging her fingers from his. Ignoring his concern, Kensi grabbed her bag again, pulling out more first aid supplies. “Take your coat and shirt off.”
Deeks reluctantly pulled off both, knowing Kensi would probably freak out when she saw how much he’d bled. His shirt stuck a little, tacky with drying and frozen blood. He had to admit that the cut looked nasty with varied levels of dried blood smeared all around. As the cold air hit it full force again, it started burning more intensely.
Surprisingly, Kensi didn’t say anything when she leaned over him. She dabbed away the fresh blood with a couple cotton swabs and then tore open a packet of liquid bandage.
“Can you hold the edges together?” she asked. That sounded awful as far as Deeks was concerned, but he followed her directions, putting pressure on either side of the cut while Kensi squeezed the glue-like substance on in small incriminates.
“Ok, I think I’m fine with just bleeding out,” he groaned a few minutes later, the wound burning as the glue seeped in.
“That is not even remotely funny,” Kensi commented tightly. “Besides, I’m almost done.” Her hands were still trembling and a little clumsy. He didn’t comment on her technique though; if a slightly lumpy scar was the worst result of this catastrophe, he’d be a happy man. Kensi insisted on applying a cloth bandage just in case and then she was finally done.
“Ok, now we gotta get you warmed up,” he said as he grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around Kensi’s shoulder and then started tugging off his boots and socks.
“What do you suggest?” Kensi asked, eyeing him suspiciously.
“There’s only one option.” He paused with a boot in his head and gave Kensi a serious look. “Naked cuddling.”
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