#and maybe an icing drizzle of some kind

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

diasomnia ice-cream parlor au doodles

[Referencing this post!]

Hello, yes, I’ve been thinking about the Diasomnia ice-cream parlor AU again 🍨🍦 I guess I must have been really hungry lately www

I see them as offering not just ice-cream, bur also variants like gelato, shaved ice, milkshakes, etc. (They can afford it with support from the Draconia royal family’s funds 😂) The focus here will be ice-cream though, just because that’s Malleus’s favorite.

Imagine walking in and not knowing what to order (there’s so much to choose from!), so you ask the staff to pick something for you… (Yes, I’ve thought about this way too much and now I’m going to shovel this at you—)

Malleus strikes me as a very traditional and old-fashioned guy, so I’d see him falling back on ol’ reliable. You can’t go wrong with a classic sugar cone and a healthy scoop on top!

He recommends mint chocolate chip because it adds an additional pleasant cooling sensation to the actual coldness of ice-cream. Malleus is fond of the flavor himself; it’s great for cooling down a mouth that’s hot from breathing flames!

You’re brave if you accept anything Lilia hands you… You ask him what this is (the ice-cream looks… discolored in some places, and there’s all this weird stuff jutting out from it; is that a piece of lettuce???). He just winks at you and calls it “Lilia-chan’s Super Cute ⭐️ Special”, featuring a bunch of “unique” flavors he created himself.

It comes served in a cup because it’s easier to eat it while walking that way. For Lilia, who is a well-seasoned traveler, foods that are able to be eaten on the go are a plus!

Silver picks out a waffle bowl (it resembles a sturdy bird’s nest) and encourages you to try a lot of different things. It’ll help you to gain an appreciation for the new and unfamiliar! With how wide the waffle bowl is and how many flavors and toppings are in there, this can be good for sharing with friends from all over.

The particular version featured in the doodle has three kinds of ice-cream, each one representing one of the three Good Fairies. A pink flavor, a blue flavor, and a green flavor—maybe rose or strawberry, blueberry or cotton candy, and pistachio? It’s a very naturey palate.

His animal friends have helped with the ingredients; there’s honey drizzled on top, as well as crushed nuts. Freshly picked berries and edible flowers garnish the bowl too—oh, and we can’t forget a generous chunk of honeycomb!

… I don’t know much about Kingdom Hearts, but I’ve heard that Silver resembles Riku from KH?? So maybe Silver can offer some sea salt ice-cream too as a throwback 😂

… Was anyone surprised by this? No? No.

Sebek chose a tall parfait glass for serving so that the dessert can be as tall as possible. It’s a matcha and ube soft serve, swirled high. The green is Diasomnia’s color, and the purple is meant to be the color of the underside of Malleus’s cape. (Sebek wanted to include black ice-cream to for the Draconia royal color, but couldn’t find a good flavor.)

Art isn’t his forte, but Sebek did his best to “recreate the imposing, elegant image of wakasama” in his dessert. The cherry on top, flanked by two conical chocolate pieces, are meant to be Malleus and his horns. The wafer poking out is supposed to “enhance the young master’s presence”. All the other things are extra details in an effort to make the ice-cream larger than life: candied fruit peels arranged in a line (to resemble the spines on a dragon’s tail), mochi balls (“magestones”) piled to one side, and a chocolate biscuit stick + wafer that, together, look like Malleus’s staff.

Sebek tried really hard! … He will aggressively try to sell you on this item.

If you’re really hungry or with a large group, why not go for the Diasomnia Family Fundae? It’s their take on a sundae, served in a glass boat. There’s a whole banana, chocolate syrup, whipped cream, and three maraschino cherries! The bramble is made of dark chocolate.

Each student is represented by one scoop and a little candy or chocolate that helps to characterize the boy (horns, bat wings, lightning bolt, or sword). Sebek is a lemon-like sherbet, befitting of his loud, in-your-face personality. Lilia is a bright red berry flavor (strawberries, cherries, cranberries, etc.), like his favorite red juices, deep and complex. Silver is vanilla bean, pure, simple, and earnest. (He could also be a subtle lavender flavor, since that's a flower known to ease you into sleep.) And Malleus… well, that scoop is a pitch black, but the flavor is something you can’t quite place your tongue on. It’s a mystery, just like he is! (Maybe the shop changes the flavor every now and again. They can run a promo where if you guess the right flavor combo for that particular week’s Malleus scoop, they give you a discount or a free cone.)

A lot of chocolate sauce is dripping down from the Malleus scoop; this is because the sauce is supposed to be his “blot”. The bottom three scoops—Lilia, Sebek, and Silver—are blanketed by the chocolate thorns as a reference to how those three were sentenced to sleep.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Malleus Draconia #Diasomnia #twst AU #twisted wonderland AU #AU #notes from the writing raven #my art #Lilia Vanrouge #Silver #Sebek Zigvolt #spoilers #Kingdom Hearts #KH Riku #Kingdom Hearts Riku #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst

[darling-i-read-it]

Blueberry Cupcake

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: couple dirty jokes lol but otherwise nothing! Maybe some self confidence issues? 

Author’s Note: I’m so sorry this took so long love! I hope you like it <3 

Requested: by anon, Your pined post says request open! ❤️ Could I request Steve harrington x reader,  where the reader shows up to scoops ahoy as often as possible just to talk to him/try to get the courage to ask him out?

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

“You are going to die at these new flavors.” Steve’s lips were curled into a smile as he leaned against the counter when you approached. There was a light on his face but his hair was dimmed by the required hat. You raised an eyebrow. 

“I’ve only been gone a week,” you argued. He shook his head. 

“The Scoops Ahoy Gods have been here since the last time you were,” he explained. The shop was otherwise empty aside from stragglers. It was only Steve at the front this afternoon, a slow day at the ice cream counter. It was drizzling outside and the rest of Hawkins had decided to stay inside. You couldn’t blame them. You almost skipped the trip to the mall today. Saving money and being cozy in bed was an alluring daydream. The look in Steve’s eyes made you happy you had come though. He was the only reason you got out of bed that particular morning and put on some half decent clothes. It was always more exciting to get dressed with the prospect of seeing someone who might appreciate the clothes. 

“Well?” You gestured to the ice cream. 

“This one, is lemon cookie.” He made a face like he was melting, hands dragging down his cheeks in an exaggerated manner. You giggled, shaking your head. “This one-” he paused for effect, “-blueberry cupcake. Actual cupcake pieces in it.” You nodded slowly as he went down the line of new flavors. They all seemed good, aside from a couple random ones. But you never really came here for the ice cream. Regardless, to appease him, you picked one of the new ones and stood there as you tasted it. 

“Positively delightful,” you promised. He smiled brightly. 

“I knew you would love it. You’re my most loyal customer.” 

“Erica Sinclair out of town or something?” 

“You’re my favorite customer,” he said with an eye roll.

“Just because Dustin Henderson is still at summer camp.” 

“Stop arguing with me and take the compliment.” You nodded, a soft smile on your face. You leaned against the counter to the side, just in case someone wanted to come in and grab a scoop. 

“No Robin today?” 

“Nope. They shoved me out here all by my lonesome.” 

“You need to learn the priority of self confidence, Steve Harrington.” 

“I have self confidence. Plenty of it.” A girl approached, probably a little older than you. You didn’t recognize her and you knew you would’ve. She had a gorgeous head of braided hair, along with a dazzling, kind, approachable smile. The sight of her made your heart sink. Steve moved to the counter once more. 

“Good afternoon milady,” he said, smoothly. “Care to join me on this adventure of flavors?” You rolled your eyes and moved aside. To your surprise, she laughed. You breathed sharply through your nose. Usually he just got an eyebrow raised with that line. 

“I would love to. Got any favorites?” 

“I have many but not one compares to you.” Her smile grew at the flattery. You rolled your eyes and took a bitter bite of your ice cream. 

You had been coming to the mall for Steve. But he was never here to see you. He was here to do his job and flirt with girls. You aren’t special because he flirts with you when you’re around. You missed Robin and her even keeled voice, the one that would promise you he had struck out with every other girl in Hawkins. 

You took a deep breath and tossed your ice cream. It wasn’t that good anyway. You didn’t even bother a wave as you left, leaving his voice to drown out as you got further away. Suddenly the rainy weather was only furthering your solemn mood. 

-

Despite your better intentions, you returned to Scoops Ahoy a couple of days later. Robin had called you the day before to complain about him and you were all too happy to oblige in her distaste. You were happy to see her at the counter when you approached. It was a little busier today but there was no line. 

“Hey,” she said evenly as you approached. “Long time no talk.” You opened your mouth to retort back when the back door opened. 

“Where have you been?” Steve questioned, pushing the back door open with force. Your eyes went wide in mock annoyance. 

“School. Working. Why?” 

“You haven’t come in,” he explained, approaching the back of the counter. 

“It’s not like I was talking to her or anything,” Robin said, rolling her eyes. She jutted her elbow onto the counter, watching him with a slight form of amusement. 

“You can talk to her whenever,” Steve grumbled. “What happened? We didn’t even finish our conversation the other day.” Suddenly, in the presence of his puppy dog eyes, you felt kind of silly. You had left him without saying anything and hadn’t mentioned it. You were slightly surprised he had even brought it up. You would’ve let it move past silently, content in not knowing why the slight awkwardness had happened. 

“I had to leave,” you explained. It was weak but nothing else came to mind. “I had to go back home,” you tried. He furrowed his eyebrows. 

“Okay. Well next time let me know, alright?” You nodded gently, happy to let the situation go. 

“What are you having?” Robin questioned. You looked at the flavors and Steve remained with an eager look.

“How about the lemon cookie?” Steve’s easy smile returned and he nodded once before trying to talk to the customer behind you. Robin gave you a look that said, you folded too easily. You shrugged. He would have gotten you out of it sooner or later. 

-

The next day it rained again. You were busy with college work, knee deep in homework. You were barely able to look up, let alone go and visit Steve. For the time being you were attempting to distance yourself from him, for the sake of both of you. You couldn’t pine for him forever when he clearly just saw you as a friend. The schoolwork was a worthy distraction. 

You didn’t hear the phone ringing until it had been going for forty five seconds. 

“Will you get that?” your roommate called from the other side of the building. You looked up, only to the sound of her voice. You were finally aware of the incessant ringing. You moved your papers aside and finally found the phone. You picked it up, finger wrapping around the cord. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey! I hope you don’t mind, Robin gave me your number.” You were stunned into silence. Steve was calling you. Despite him giving you the reason he had your number, it still took you a moment to pull together any kind of information. “Hello?”

“Hi! Sorry, cut out for a second. What can I do for you Steve?” 

“I know it’s raining but I thought you could come keep me company,” he suggested. “It’s really lonesome by myself in the Scoopys Ahoy this afternoon.” You pursed your lips. Was he asking you to hang out for ulterior motives? Or was he really just bored and you were the first person to come to mind? How had he asked Robin for your number? Why hadn’t she told you? Your silence was not a green flag to him. “Or not. I’m sure you’re busy-”

“No, sorry I’m still in study brain.” 

“Ah the good old study brain. I know him well.” You rolled your eyes. 

“What time does your shift end?”

“Four.” 

“Well then I will be by before then.” You could practically see the smile on his face at his cheerful answer. 

“Okay cool. Sick. See you then.” 

“See you then Steve.” You hung up the phone quickly, squinting at it. You didn’t know what his intention was but you didn’t exactly like it. You looked back down at your school work, deciding to abandon it as you went to find an outfit. 

-

Steve was still holding the phone when you hung up. He could hear the dial tone but he couldn’t bring himself to put it down.

“Well?” Robin asked, eyebrows raised and wide eyed. 

“She said she’s coming by before my shift ends,” he explained. Robin nodded. 

“That’s good. When I see her I’ll hide in the back.” Steve finally put the phone down and swallowed hard. Usually he was okay with this type of thing. Flirting, asking people out, getting rejected. But he knew he would miss you coming to see him if you said no. He knew you would stop coming if there was some sort of awkward barrier between the two of you. He didn’t want that. 

But he wanted you. 

He cleared his throat and nodded. 

“What am I supposed to say again?” Behind Robin’s head was the white board, taunting him with rejections. He had thought it was funny when she did it but now it seemed like a slap in the face. 

“Ask her to hang out after your shift. That’s all.” Robin crossed her arms. This was harder than she thought it was going to be. You liked him, he liked you, how could you not get together? Clearly it was taking some pushing on both ends though. She better be invited to the wedding. 

“When do you think she’ll come?”

“Before your shift ends dingus,” she muttered, shaking her head. She returned to the counter as a customer approached. Steve was left alone in the back room with his thoughts and doubts. Everytime you came to see him it was like every light in the room had brightened. He thought about losing that, about losing you. Would you laugh in his face, like every other girl he talked to here? He couldn’t bear it. This was an awful idea. His stomach churned. He pushed open the door and hoped they would get so busy, he would forget you were even coming. 

-

At 3:30 you finally arrived. You felt like your body was sagging with all the information in your head weighing it down. You had been distracted by homework even while you got ready, thinking about all the things that could go wrong this week. It made this thing with Steve seem less important, so you could worry about it less. But now that you were here, you could feel the nerves settling back into your stomach. 

Steve was behind the counter. He stood up straight when he noticed it was you. 

“Hey,” he breathed. 

“Hey,” you said back, a small smile on your face. “Why isn’t Robin working today?” you questioned. They were typically shift partners. She hadn’t mentioned going out somewhere that would warrant her taking an unprecedented day off. 

Steve, knowing full well Robin was in the back, shrugged. 

“They thought I could handle it by myself.” You raised an eyebrow. 

“You’re moving up in the world, Harrington. Are you the manager yet?” 

“You know no one would let that happen,” he argued. He moved over to the ice cream. “This one’s on me but I get to choose.” You nodded once. 

“I’ll take that.” He hoped no one else would come for the last hour. Should he just ask you now? The words seemed daunting. He could hear his blood pumping in his ears. He had literally fought monsters, why was this the thing to take him out? He scooped you some blueberry cupcake and handed it over. “Thanks.” 

“How’s studying?” 

“Draining,” you admitted without a beat. “I can only hold so much in my brain at once.” He remembered his days of essay writing which didn’t help his confidence in the moment. 

“They should invent pillows you can stick information into.”

“That’s a million dollar idea, Harrington. You should trademark that.”

“I wouldn’t even know where to start.” 

“We can figure it out together over a lot of ice cream.” You briefly wondered if this was going to be his job in the fall too. Would he leave for school then? How far would he go? 

“I like that.” He cleared his throat. “You know, we could see each other when I’m not on the clock too.” You took a bite of your ice cream, listening intently. Your eyes remained on him. He tried not to quiver under your wide eyed gaze. “Like if you have nothing going on today…” You caught on. You swallowed your ice cream to ignore your breath hitching. 

“Like a date?” 

He shrugged as nonchalantly as he was able to. 

“If you want.” 

“I would like that,” you admitted. “Are you just asking me because none of the other girls coming into Scoops Ahoy have given you the time of day?” He tried not to wince. 

“I’m asking because I want to,” he said honestly. “And Robin held me at knife point. I think she’s tired of us dancing around…whatever this is.” 

Whatever this is?! 

He could feel it too? You thought it was entirely one sided, fueled by your delusions. You couldn’t help but smile. 

“I’ll have to thank her next time I see her.” You pulled up a stool to sit on the side of the counter, allowing you to continue talking. “You have a place in mind?”

“We could go wherever you wanted. Grab food, hell we could go to the arcade if you wanted.” You laughed gently. 

“I think I’ll pass on the arcade right now. But I wouldn’t mind an entree to go with my dessert.” 

-

The nerves wore off quickly once you both realized you were on the same page. You sat on the stool in the back, the few magazines on the table keeping you company while Steve dealt with customers. You poked at your blueberry cupcake ice cream as you turned the pages. 

The divider window opened up. You raised your head. 

“Nice hat,” Steve said. You had forgotten you stole his work hat, which was sitting very gracefully atop your head. 

“Thanks.”

“Everyone’s gone.” 

“Then come back here,” you said, gesturing to the empty room. 

“You’re too distracting when I'm back there with you alone. I need supervision.” Robin made a gagging noise, though you couldn't see her. You smiled sheepishly and got up, pushing the magazine aside. 

“You know you could hang out after he gets off right?”

“We hang out during me getting o-”

“Shut up. Shut up.” Robin covered her ears and walked into the back room. You laughed at the sly attempt at a joke. Steve wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer. You were glad you had stolen his hat. He looked much better without it. 

“She’s right. I think we’re feeding into codependency.”

“Our relationship was built on the foundation of you coming to see me while I work.” 

“That was because I didn’t see you after work.” His fingers held onto yours. He smiled down at them, like a prized possession. 

“I like to maximize my time.” 

Robin gagged in the back again.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagines #stranger things imagines #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfiction

[urf1lterr]

lovesick | pedro pascal [2]

"and on this night and in this light i think im falling, im falling for you."

next chapter: [3] previous chapter: [1] series masterlist

summary: in which a 1975-obsessed film student accidentally falls in love with an older man she can't have.

pairing: actor!pedro x intern!reader

genre: acting world!au, big age-gap!, strangers to friends- maybe lovers?? au | angst, mature, awkward, love- eventually

word count: 6.7k

status: in progress

author's note: this chapter was for fun- i have the 1975 on repeat so i had to lmao. i kinda wanna do a slow burn because i don't want to make anything happen so fast. and pedro was at the oscars a few hours ago so why not post another chapter for him :) not edited.

You hated working weekends.

Something about waking up extremely early on a day that was supposed to be your day off irks you. Why have a scheduled rest day if you're just going to be scheduled to come in? It made zero sense, especially since you were only given a two hour notice before while sleeping.

No pay, clothes, gifts could ever make you happy after being called in at 5am for a 7am shift-

"Venti iced white chocolate mocha with oat milk, vanilla sweet cold foam, caramel drizzle, and light ice as always," Pedro listed as he handed you the coffee.

"Oh my god, I think I love you," you blurted out, staring at the cup in awe.

"That was fast, I see now why you're single," Pedro replied, giving you the side eye. "And soon diabetic."

Rolling your eyes, you take a sip of the coffee before shaking your head. "Not like that, you moron," you scoffed as he glared at you. "I love coffee too much- and who says I'm single."

"Think of it as your reward for waking up to the call," he joked as you just stared at him annoyed. The one time you turn off your do not disturb and this happens. "Your loneliness says otherwise."

"I am not lonely!" you gasp as he shrugs. "I'll have you know I am dating-"

"If you dare say Matty Healy I will personally push you in a bush-," Pedro declares, stopping you as you try to interject. "-and won't help you back up."

Huffing, you cross your arms as he laughs at the sight of your defeat. He knows you too well considering the fact you only met two months ago.

In fact, these two months were probably the best ones you have had all year. Not only did you experience some awesome moments you're sure you'll never get to witness again, but you got along with a lot of special people.

What made things even better was the fact that you got along with your boss because who knows where you would've ended up if Finn was a total douche- which he wasn't. But he did have his moments where he took your kindness for weakness- like asking you to come in for shift on a Saturday.

One thing that definitely advanced would have to be your relationship with Pedro. Nearly best friends is what you two were typically called on a normal day on set by how close you've become.

The nearly part added because nothing could ever come between his relationship with Bella, or Bellie in his own words. And because Jules always made sure to tell the jokesters that she was not giving up her position just yet.

But when it came to work, Pedro was always there for you. Considering he's been in the industry since before you were even born, which he yelled at you once when you joked, he was the best support.

He would even ask you what you were assigned to do and tell you specifically what was wanted without you even asking- even finding ways to physically assist before being caught and sent back to his actual job.

There were also the constant times where he would spam you with iMessage game requests to 8 ball and ignore you after beating him three times in a row, claiming his phone died despite your messages being sent through.

The only thing that made today better was that he was here because who knows how boring the day would have been if you were spent hanging with the technicians who; in fact, did not appreciate the countless times you dropped a mic.

"Why didn't Jules get called in?" you questioned as he turned up the computer brightness you were using. "That girl never wakes up early but I kid you not, she was playing minecraft on her computer when I was leaving."

"I love minecraft," Pedro sighed.

"I do too, but Jules always sends the creepers to my house," you complain. "They always destroy my garden."

"I could only imagine the devastation in your eyes," he dramatically exhales as you nudge him. "But I think it's because you're more...attentive? Not saying that she isn't, but she sure loves to talk about Jersey Shore in between takes."

"She's been binge-watching all the seasons after work."

The conversation ended once he was caught again by one of the producers and lured out of the office you were in. Initially, he searched around the studio and found you to gift the coffee, but he stayed because he did not want to sit on the makeup chair for another round of a drastic look being applied to his face- especially if you weren't there to pester him.

As for you, once clocked in Finn managed to have you scan after emails as a way to apologize for the call in. Apparently, one of his assistants called out so he decided to use you as their replacement since he couldn't find the time to sit down in a cozy office and do so.

But you were totally not complaining.

That only lasted you about two hours before you were finished and terribly bored.

Throwing the empty cup of coffee in the trash, you decided to walk around in hopes of finding something better to do or else you would've fallen asleep on the desk.

You would've if you weren't scared of the thought of a director finding and; consequently, firing you.

Hearing a loud noise, you quickly averted your eyes where your ears were signaling where the noise came from. Lightly jogging behind a curtain, your eyes widened to a sight of a desk on its side and a man hovering over it.

"Joon?!" you exclaim, running over to find him lowly panting, trying to remain his coolness as you began inspecting him to find any injuries.

"I'm fine," he calmly replied, using his dimpled smile as a way to reassure this but you didn't believe him. That was a loud drop.

"Why in the world are you lifting a desk that surely isn't less than 30 pounds?" you glare as he chuckles at the fake anger you poorly tried displaying.

"One of the technicians asked me to bring it out."

"And did you forget that your back would disagree?"

He shuts his mouth for a second, loss for words at your comeback. "I couldn't say no," he shyly replied. "I didn't want to have to pull out my medical forms explaining why I can't lift a table."

Feeling your face sink, you helped him stand straight as he glanced down at the fallen table. "You should have called for help then- everybody would need help for a gigantic table like this."

He only nodded in response, making you feel bad. You felt like you were lecturing him, technically you were, but you didn't want to find out in the future the reason he stopped attending work was because he pulled his back again.

"I'll drag this out," you declare as he tried slapping you hands away from it.

"It's too heavy for you!" he argued.

"Which is why I said drag," you countered back, ignoring his pleas as you somehow managed to lift the table back to its standing positioning.

Walking around it, you bent your back as you began pushing it around the curtain as Joon followed your position, crouching next to you for the extra support.

If it wasn't for the film crew being around the floor, you were sure you would have passed out right then and there. But you couldn't let them know how weak you were.

"And that's how teamwork makes the dream work," you announce, causing Joon to giggle before giving you a high-five as the two of you stand up from your bent posture.

Joon was another person you got along with incredibly well. For one, you guys were the duo out of all the interns. Every job you had that included another person, he was always there.

There was also the many times the two of you, and Jules of course, would carpool together to get home. It turned out Joon was also friends with some of your college classmates so he was always the only person from work who joined you guys for the random nights of cheesy movies and boring games while eating takeout with your other friends.

Despite hanging out for so long, you felt dense when someone called him Namjoon one time, even turning your head around for this Namjoon, completely oblivious to the fact that Joon was connected to Namjoon.

To be fair, he never went by his full name claiming that his nickname sounded more 'chill,' or whatever that meant.

Other than that, you were sure he was your other best friend. Well, after Jules and maybe Pedro. They were probably on the same level if you had to arrange them- not that friends had to ranked.

"Are you ready for this afternoon?" Joon called out as the two of you walked off the stage back to the curtains.

"For what?"

He sent you a surprised look, scaring you because is there something crazy happening that you had to prepare for? "Do you have your phone?"

Patting your back pocket, you shook your head. "I think I left it in my bag. Why? I'm about to cry if you don't tell me," you impatiently whine.

"What kind of fan you are," he simply responds, causing you to widen you eyes.

Immediately jumping on him, you shake his shoulders repeatedly. "What is the 1975 doing?! You must tell me or I swear to the gods I will bust your kneecaps and make you crawl for help."

He bursts out laughing at your threatening begs, trying to calm down your jumps by grabbing your shoulders to hold you. "You're violent."

"And you'll need surgery if you don't hurry it up."

Tapping your shoulder to calm down, you slowly do so. "3 o'clock is when their tickets go on sale for their upcoming tour, one of the dates being in New York City."

You could have sworn you were about to faint if it weren't for Joon pulling out his phone to show you you still had time to mentally prepare for the combat you were about to enter.

That's what ticketmaster was, a war zone.

"How was I not aware of this?!" you cry out, internally panicking about what you were going to do. You can't miss out on this concert, you just had to see these British people in person in order for your life to be complete.

"They did just post the news half an hour ago," he admitted. "Good for you for not being addicted to your phone."

Scowling at him, he quickly closed his mouth as you went over all the things you needed to do to prepare. "Wait, can we go together? None of my guy friends like them."

If you weren't in your own world mentally planning how you were going to beat all these teenage girls online, you would have noticed Pedro walking up to the two to you. But you didn't because your mind couldn't stop thinking about Matty Healy singing 'She's American' because you were indeed American.

"Why does she look deranged?" Pedro questioned, standing a few feet away from you. "Oh no, did Matty Healy die?"

Glaring at him, you ignore his irrelevant comment and face back to Joon. "You and me, my place straight after work. Got it?"

He nods, already in game mode because he knows how bad the two of you need to witness this concert.

Pedro exchanged a crazed look between the two of you, assuming his own ideas as to what you meant. "You're having a party and didn't invite me?" he tried joking to understand the conversation a bit more.

"No time for fooling around, Pedro," you state, grabbing Joon by his arm and making your way back to the office to search for your phone. "We have important business to settle, see you around!"

He watched the way Joon and you walk away hurriedly and wonders if you have a thing for the boy. It would make sense right? Joon was around the same age and he saw you guys work together all the time.

Shaking his head, he walks back to the stage trying to not overthink whatever was flowing in his head. But he couldn't help but question why he was never invited to your place? He instantly rejected that idea, he was twice your age. There's no way that was realistically appropriate.

However, you were friends- so wasn't it hypothetically okay?

No, there was no way he was really debating this. It's completely understandable why he didn't need to be invited over and Joon could.

But how many times did Joon come over?

Stop. His thoughts were confusing him and he needed a distraction. He wasn't going to let another man make him envy of where his friendship stood with you because there is no way he's jealous Joon might take his close friend status.

Because that's who you were to him, a close friend.

After another hour of working with Joon secretly about the tickets while emailing more people who Finn ordered, you two were finally cut for the day.

And luckily you still had two hours before the tickets went on sale.

"I need to grab my coat I left backstage, meet me outside?" Joon asked and you nodded, waving him off as you put on your own coat and bag.

Sprinting out of the office, you didn't expect to fall on the floor by the the person who ran into you. Well, the person fell to the floor while you comfortably landed on top of them, their arms wrapping around you.

"If you missed me that much you should've just texted me sooner to drop by," you heard the culprit chuckle, immediately making you shake their secured hands off your waist to stand.

"That was definitely not the case," you laugh, sticking a hand out to help him get up.

He raises a brow while staring at your hand before taking it, instantly pulling you back down with him. Falling over again, you slowly slip into his arms before finding your balance and giving up on helping him.

"How adorable of you to think you can lift me up," he grins, pulling his own weight up.

"I would love to stay and chat," you start, before looking past him and back again. "But I have something very important to do."

Trying to move around him, he stops you by grabbing your shoulder. "That's why I came to be a generous person and offer you a ride- so you can be home faster and do whatever you needed to do with Josh."

"His name's Joon."

"That's what I said," he ignores you're doubtful glance. "I can take you guys to your apartment."

Thinking it over, it would make it easier and faster to get home and prepare for the sale. If you would've taken a cab and subway it would have been an hour, with him it'll be half that.

"Fine," you spit out and watch as his face lights up. "But I am not owing you anything, you offered."

"Love how two months ago you would've begged the world for me," he placed a hand over his heart. "Oh how comfortable you've gotten with me."

"I don't want to hear it," you shun him, walking past him as he makes a silly face behind your back. "I can feel that!" He immediately stops, surprised you sensed it.

Maybe the two of you gotten a long too well.

"He's gonna drive us to my place, it'll be faster," you quickly explain to Joon who just nods, happily smiling at Pedro who sends him a fast greeting.

Right as you walk through the parking garage and see the familiar black car, Pedro unlocks it before quickly pushing you into the passenger seat, ignoring your protests and slamming the door before you could slip out.

"Not cool," you utter once he buckles inside the driver's seat.

"Don't make me cry," he fake cries before pulling the car out and hitting the road back to your place.

Due to it being the weekend and everybody wanting to be social and outside for some reason, the streets were packed.

It didn't help that Pedro thought starting a deep conversation with Joon about why electric cars annoyed him, knowing damn well Joon loved the environment, was a good idea.

And Pedro's defense being because he loved the smell of gas made you want to slap him.

As if the heavens felt your annoyance, your wish was granted. You were finally in the front of your apartment complex with Pedro pulling up along the red curb. You would've fought him, but you were desperate to get inside as you barely had an hour left.

"Thanks, see you Monday!" you exclaim, jumping out of the car and slamming the door shut. "Let's go, Joon!"

Barely stepping a foot out, you heard Pedro begin talking. "Wait, what are you guys gonna do?"

"Very intense work," Joon stated before turning to you. "But we got this in the bag."

Pedro squints his eyes, curiously scanning your body language because he does not know what this very intense work meant.

Working out? Making out? What the hell was it?

"Of course we do, love has no limits," you declare, making Pedro cough as you grabbed Joon's arm. "Now, let's go!"

"What are you two going to eat?!" Pedro called out, making you heavily sigh and turn back around.

Faking a smile, you gritted your teeth. "Don't know. Maybe we'll cook or make Jules' grab food as we work."

He makes a face, not convinced he wants to let you guys leave. Now that he was here and his day was over with, he didn't want to be alone.

But he also didn't want to tell you he wanted to stay. He wanted you to invite him- but you weren't getting the hint. Or maybe you were, but you couldn't have him in the room while working with Joon.

"That's cool, did you know I make a killer chicken alfredo?" he speaks out, making you pull an interested face as you were very much not. "Especially with garlic bread."

"Make sure to make that once you get home, safe travels," you wave, trying to turn away but was once again stopped by his voice.

You could feel your kindness slowly leaving your body. Was this the day you would be arrested and charged for murder?

"You know what's the secret with making the pasta?" Pedro questions as Joon replies back a curious, "What?"

"The sauce!" he exclaims as you try to control yourself. He was definitely pushing your buttons but you had to stay calm- you had to.

Joon was too interested in the conversation Pedro was beginning, trying to ask what was in this mysterious sauce. You knew you had to interject or you would both be ticketless.

"Maybe you can tell us about this secretive sauce on Monday, when we next see you," you force a laugh, trying to slowly take a few steps back to inch towards the entrance doors. "We really have to g-"

"Why wait till Monday when I can tell you now?" he claps, getting reading to explain his recipe. "For starters, you need a thick, sauce that can sp-"

"Oh my god!" you squeal, causing both men to jump and stare at you in shock as you rambled on. "The parking structure is around the block, my number is 912- just park and come up! Let's go, Joon!"

With that, Joon and you ran inside and Pedro smiled to himself. His planned worked. He guessed the only way to get to you was by speaking nonsense until you gave in- he'll remember that in the future.

Rushing through your door, you took your coat off as Joon pulled his laptop out if his backpack and set it next to your desk.

You looked at it confusingly before asking, "you carry your laptop with you to work?"

"Duh, an intern should always be prepared for computer work," he replies as if it was the obvious rule we should all know.

Shrugging, you turned on your PC and immediately went to ticketmaster, finding that the tickets weren't going on sale until 35 minutes from now. "We still have time to breathe." That was until you heard light knocks on your door. "Spoke too soon."

Walking up to your door, you see that no one was out there.

That was until Pedro decided to jump out from the side and scare the living shit out of you.

"I'm not doing this," you glare, trying to slam the door on his face, but he forced his way in while laughing at the scream you exhaled before.

You stared at him with no expression as he fell to the floor, continuing to laugh as if your fear was the funniest thing in the world. Joon was even silently giggling in the corner, stopping when you made eye-contact with him.

Trying to find a bowl to fill with water so you could throw at him, your plans were interrupted when you heard your roommate's voice boom across the room.

"Who the fuck is making so much noise?! Some of us are trying to sleep- ah! Why is Mr. Boss here?" Jules' gasps, jumping behind the hallway wall and peeking only her head out, too embarrassed to show off her hello kitty pajamas.

"He's gonna make us some pasta with his secret sauce," Joon happily states as she just gives him a confused look.

"Plus, it's almost 3 in the afternoon...," Pedro adds, giving her a baffled look as to why she is barely waking up.

She just gives him an awkward glance before running back to her room, shutting the door. Saturday's were her day off, of course waking up after 5pm was normal.

"The time limit just turned green! Refresh to join the waiting room-" Joon began screeching, doing so on his computer as you jumped around Pedro to do the same on your PC.

Slowly walking up to where Joon was, Pedro began examining the situation you two were in. Reading over your computer screen, his face fell. "The 1975 2022 World Tour...were you guys seriously trying to buy concert tickets this whole time?!"

Joon and you exchanged innocent glances to one another, not sure if he was judging you for your dedication.

"No, we still are trying to buy tickets," you simply reply, pushing him away from your computer.

His negativity was bad luck.

"This is why you were rushing to get home? All for-"

"Be gone, pessimist. Your energy is not it," you frown, moving your game chair to block his view from your screen. "Joon, block your computer, we can't afford his cynical attitude to ruin our chances of making out with Matty Healy."

"Making out with Matty Healy? You still want that? How is he gonna notice you?" Pedro asks, trying hard not to laugh in your face.

You were quiet for a minute. It was just a crazy thing you said because of all the videos you had seen online whenever it was somebody's birthday or they were just a lucky fan in the front.

You weren't actually dedicated to kissing him, but you did wish.

Joon slowly raised his finger, pointing at Pedro. "You're famous, right? Maybe if you went he'll notice us?"

Eyes widening, Pedro quickly shook his head as you placed your hand over your mouth. He was right, maybe he wouldn't kiss you, but he would for sure meet you if he found out a famous actor with over a million followers on Instagram attended his show.

"Not a chance," Pedro declared, ignoring your puppy dog gaze as you just hoped doing it for long would make him so uncomfortable he would give in.

Nudging Joon, he followed your actions with the sad stare, the two of you in front of the poor actor, leaving him really no choice. You were even thinking about calling Jules out to help, but she probably wouldn't appreciate it by her state of looking homeless.

But if it were on a work day she would totally be in.

"You just look like a deformed bull terrier," he says, pulling a disgusted face. "It's kind of unattractive."

"What is that?" you urge, watching Joon hold a laugh.

"The target dog," Joon answers for you.

Shrieking, you smack Pedro in the arm. "My god, woman! You always hit me."

"You're coming with us to the concert," you announce, watching him roll his eyes. Before he could reject your demand, you beat him to it, "if you don't I'm never talking to you again."

"Please, I've been wishing for that for weeks now," he cheers. "Plus, I'm pretty sure I am busy the day they come."

Pulling yourself close to the computer, you check to see the day they were arriving. "So you're saying you aren't free November 7th?"

"Kid, that's basically a year from now. I can't guarantee anything."

"Damn, you're right," you frown, your mood going down. Joon's idea was pretty amazing, but just wrong timing since the concert was so far away. "You can leave now."

"And what about that famous chicken alfredo?" Pedro chuckled, finding your change in demeanor amusing. You must really love these indie boys.

You were about to reply when Joon intervened. "Oh my god! We are in the queue!"

Twisting your head, you could see the clock had hit 3 o'clock exactly. How did time go by that fast?

"Holy shit! Everybody disconnect from the house wifi on your phones! We can not have anything disturbing us!"

Pulling out your phone, you did what you ranted on and made sure Joon did the same. You even ran to Jules' door and banged on it until she confirmed she did so.

Running back to the computer, you could see there was still 983 people in front of you while Joon had 754. "Why is your computer going faster?"

"This laptop-," he sheepishly smiled. "-cost a fortune, but works like a charm."

Turning back to the screen, you saw the purple line move closer. Not even three minutes in and you only had 534 people left while Joon had 312.

You don't know what you did, but God was certainly rewarding you.

"You're honestly really weird," Pedro confessed, staring at your computer screen. "And sad."

"You would be if you were about to buy tickets to see the love of your life."

"I wouldn't pay anything, money can't buy love," Pedro insists, pulling a chair from your table and placing it in between Joon and you.

"That's very romantic," you swipe an imaginary tear from your cheek. "Save it for the cameras."

His jaw drops as you return back to your computer. In a few moments you were about to be inside the room and you were beyond scared. If you did not get these tickets you don't know how much longer you'll have to live.

"I'm in!" Joon shouts, causing you to jump to his screen.

Great, the two of you were going together anyway so it works out.

"Fuck, what's the presale code?!"

Placing your hands on your head as he begins to panic, you die inside. What the fuck were you going to do now? "Go on Twitter and check!"

To say Pedro was not intrigued would be a lie. It was very fascinating seeing how strongly engaged you were just for a damn ticket. To be honest, he thinks you would be great on a reality tv show- your expressions were just off the roof. He wonders if other people genuinely acted like you.

"It's probably something super simple, try 'thesound,'" you exclaim, watching as he typed right away but frowning when it denied it. "try 'somebodyelse.'"

After each attempt of every famous song they had, it was still wrong. What pissed you off even more was that fans were gatekeeping the code no matter how many times Joon and you tweeted for help.

Greedy little shits.

Eventually, your screen allowed you into the room as well. It was no use, you didn't have the code. "I think I'm going to have a panic attack," you clutch your chest as you felt your lips quiver from sadness. "We were so close."

Pedro just stared at you not believing how miserable you suddenly became. Is this how easily young people let concerts take over themselves? Do people really idolize artists that much to the point where they feel depressed if they don't get tickets?

He shivered imagining how BTS fans dealt with this pressure.

"Let me try," Pedro speaks up, pushing you to the side as he began typing away on your keyboard.

It never hurts to try, right?

Innocently clicking away, your face fell as the check mark appeared, unlocking the room for you. "He got in!"

Hurriedly jumping to the screen, Joon urged Pedro to do the same as you began searching through the seats. Instantly clicking on the floor, you hit the continue button for 2 seats.

Feeling your nerves kick in, your hands begin to shake as you typed in the needed information in order to complete your order. But once you pressed 'place your order," your world stopped.

Ignoring your surroundings, you only focused on the screen. Quietly praying, you're sure Joon and Pedro could hear your desperate requests to the ruler of the universe to grant you your biggest wish: these tickets.

You Got The Tickets To The 1975!

Feeling weightless, you screamed so loud you were sure your neighbors were going to call the cops. Joon looked over, doing the same cheers once he realized you two were set for the show.

Jumping out of your chair, you practically tackled Pedro to the ground as you wrapped your arms around his neck and planted him numerous kisses all over his cheeks.

For once, you were happy you managed to outlast his annoying-self.

"I will forever be grateful for your existence!" you cheer, squeezing his poor body in your arms as he tried to remain in balance, laughing at how nice you suddenly became.

Planting a big kiss on his forehead, you turn to Joon and jump together in happiness. You couldn't believe you managed to score tickets, especially floor seats.

"Wait, what was the code?" Joon asked, pulling away from you and turning to Pedro who tried containing his grin.

"The 1975."

You dropped you arms, feeling incredibly stupid. How could you not write their name as a code attempt? It was shorter than 'it's not living if it's not with you.'

"Joon, we are officially the two dumbest people in New York City," you confess as he slowly nods before stopping.

"Not dumber than Jules though."

You heard her door open before her loud yelling appeared, "Well fuck you too!"

Ignoring her, you jump to Pedro who had his gaze on you already. "Welp! Since we got that out of the way, why don't you make some of that chicken alfredo with your sauce."

He smiled before realizing what you were asking. "What sauce?"

You roll your eyes before hitting his side. "The secretive one you were bothering us about."

Pedro bounces up once he understands what he had mentioned earlier. "Oh, right. That one," he chuckles. "I was kidding, I just wanted to see what you guys were dong."

Your face falls as Joon lets out a sad sigh. "Man, I really wanted to taste how thick and creamy that sauce was."

Pedro just tilts his head to Joon before pointing at the door. "It was great hanging with you guys though! Hey, at least we all worked together for those tickets! I'm gonna head out now, have a good rest of your evening!"

With that, he awkwardly backs away and opens the door, quickly running out before you could argue why he would lie about such a thing.

Before you could process what had just happened, he quickly opens the door again and peeps his head inside. "By the way, you don't actually like a deformed bull terrier," he clarifies. "I was kidding, maybe a cavalier king charles spaniel, those are precious."

And again, he runs out. This time, your face was pretty noticeable when it came to how much redness was present. You cringed to yourself, the littlest of compliments always made you blush- it made you sick.

Joon and you exchanged confused looks to each other. Pedro was a very interesting man.

"What is a cavalier king charles spaniel?" you lightly question.

"The dog in the arms of an angel commercial," Joon simply replies.

Reaching his car, Pedro quickly unlocked the door before jumping in. He felt his heart beating fast, not sure why it was doing so.

Was it because he adored how committed you were for those damn tickets? Maybe. Or how your eyes sparkled once you realized you got the right code? Possibly.

How you kissed him and pulled him in close? Most definitely.

But he would never reveal such a thing to anyone. People would take it wrong and believe he had feelings for you. All he had were feelings one would have for another close friend like you.

His heart was beating because he was excited for you, that's all.

Walking around the studio Monday morning was exhausting. Not only did you pull an all-nighter Saturday night because you were too happy to fall asleep, but you only managed to gain a few hours of sleep on Sunday as you were too busy trying to finish homework due that same night.

"Are you alright? Do you need water?" you heard Bella worriedly ask as you pulled a hoodie over your head and walked near the snacks table.

"I need a pill that can wake me up."

"That could be arranged," she joked, stopping when you sent her a serious look. "Not by me, of course."

Bella managed to wake you up a little once she suddenly pulled out her phone and turned the flash on, flashing it all around your face. "Are you trying to make me blind?!"

"It's supposed to wake you up, is it working?" she grinned, still shoving her phone up your face.

Grabbing her wrist, she stops. "No."

"Damn, that sucks."

Somehow you managed to pull yourself together, walking to where the rest of the interns were once you heard all the directors call out for an urgent meeting.

Probably wanting one of you to run to the coffee shop for coffee as usual.

Seeing Pedro waving at you from the side of his cast's group, you smiled and returned it. He then proceeded to make a confused face, wondering why there was an emergency meeting being held.

You sent the same look, adding a shrug because you were feeling the same. You weren't aware about what was going on, but noticing how many people were present- it must be a big deal.

Finn walked in and stood near the director, sending you a smile that didn't look natural.

If anything it looked fake and...sad?

"A lot of you are probably wondering why I called everyone down here on this early morning," you hear one of the directors begin, making some people nod while others just patiently waited for him to continue. "Starting with wonderful news, we have just been given access to explore our visuals and proceed to try out different surroundings in regards to our planned perception for the series."

Hearing a few people clap, you do the same. You were glad that the set was upgrading, but what did they have to do with everyone?

"Unfortunately," you heard him begin, causing your breathe to hitch. "with locations being held in various places like Canada, we are going to have to make cuts."

Feeling your heart drop, you already knew who he was planning to remove. A big series like this can't send interns they don't care about out of the country for help and you sure as hell couldn't afford to pay for the travels yourself if it came down to it.

You didn't want to make eye-contact with Bella or Pedro and feel their condolences through their expressions. All you wanted to do was be cut already so you could go home and cry at home.

To cry over a job was pathetic, but considering how much you learned and loved to manage it for the past couple months, it was sad to let it go.

As the director went down the list of small departments he planned on letting go, he finally made it to yours. "As for the interns, we are especially grateful for the hard work you brought to this set and trying to fill not only our needs but the casts. If we have any open positions in the near future we will make sure to grant you priority, and if you ever need letters of recommendations for your future activities, I am sure Finn would be able to handle that behind closed doors..."

You zoned out after that, not really caring what else was being said. It was the typical its not us excuse, claiming the company couldn't provide for all of their workers yet were able to spend millions of dollars on each location and its visuals.

The meeting was over when you noticed the directors and producers giving a final sympathetic look to the crowd, bowing their heads before walking back to where their offices were located.

"I feel like crying," you heard Jules sniffle, patting her under eye with her sweater. "But I took time on my eye makeup so I can't!"

Rubbing her shoulder, you tried to distract her from her tears coming out as Joon stood next to you guys, telling her funny spongebob jokes that she did not understand.

"Uh oh, Mr. Boss is coming. He's gonna make me cry, I can't hear his sorrow," Jules' explained, turning her back the other way.

"Hey, kids," you heard Pedro lightly say.

"The tears are coming out!" Jules' exclaimed, running away to the nearest bathroom while Joon and you looked at each other, feeling extremely bad for her.

"Sorry about that," Pedro awkwardly started, continuing once you shook off his unnecessary apology. "I just wanted to talk, see how you guys are handling the unfortunate news."

Joon was the first to speak, sounding surprisingly calm for someone who just lost his internship. "It sucks, but at least it was for an understandable reason. Traveling costs money. Plus, we go to school here, we can't just leave."

You nodded, agreeing with what he said. It was true, you should have known this job would've ended sooner than later, there was only so much you could have done inside a film studio.

The series was an apocalypse that needed feature more outside and environmental sets that looked deadly than a building that was only useful for inside takes.

"How about you?" He questions, sincere eyes following yours as you shrug.

"I am sad but that's the industry," you force out a small chuckle. "If you aren't cut at least once, you aren't gaining the full experience."

Right after you said that, you felt tears lining around the inner corner of your eyes. Looking down, you tru to contain yourself. "I'm going to go check up on Jules."

Reaching out for you, Pedro tries to console you but you were out of his reach in seconds. He hated the tears in your eyes and his job being the reason behind it.

He felt as if it were his fault for your departure when he knows he shouldn't.

It also didn't make him feel any better that Joon followed straight after you once you walked away. He knew he had to do something but he wasn't sure.

All he knew was that he would rather see you smile than cry.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #tlou #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #the last of us #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal fluff #pedropascaledit #pedro pascal x y/n #joel miller #pascalispunk #fanfiction

[imagineredwood]

3. Roses 🌹

Summary: Miguel always spoils you, but especially on Valentine’s Day.

Pairing: Miguel Galindo x female reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI Sexual content. CONSENSUAL drunken sex,

Word count: 1.2K

A/n: I know these were supposed to be drabbles but my fingers had a kind of their own and kept typing 🤐

“Jesus. How much did this cost??”

You looked over at Miguel incredulously, still in shock by the what looked like hundreds of roses all bunched together neatly in the round case. The bright scarlet petals were dusted with a gold shimmer on the very tips, something that made the arrangement look even more expensive. Loose petals scattered on the tile leading out to the pool. Miguel grinned, his hand coming to snake around your waist as he kissed the very tip of your nose.

“Don’t worry about that. You’re priceless, and your gifts should be priceless. I have much more set up for us.”

With that, he squeezed your side gently, ushering you to follow the petals. You walked behind the trail out to the pool, finding that the usual warm white lights that were strung up were now in soft shades of pink, the entire backyard having a pale pink hue. The table was set up elegantly, an ice bucket right in front with chilled bottles of your favorite champagne and wine. A long charcuterie board with all your favorite cheeses and fruits, candied jams and specialty nuts. A tray of glistening chocolate covered strawberries sat off to the left, some with drizzles over top and others with sprinkles. There was a fondue machine towards the back and Miguel motioned over to the side where the outdoor kitchen was, two chefs moving around silently as they cooked.

“The main course will be done in half hour. Sit down and let me pour you a drink.”

You smiled, smoothing your hands over the back of the dress Miguel had picked out for you to wear and took a seat. He held up a wine glass and a flute, letting you choose which you wanted first, pouring one for you and one for him before he came to sit down beside you. He held out your glass and you took it, your mouth curling into a smile as you took a sip. Miguel’s smile mirrored yours, always loving to see you enjoy something, regardless of what it was.

“Good?”

“Great.”

“Only the best for my girl.”

Your eyes crinkled in the corners as you settled into his side, his hand coming to rest on the knee of your leg that was peeking out through the slit in your dress.

You both drank and ate and talked and laughed, well once the table was nearly empty and everyone save for the guards had gone home. You were both tipsy and giggly, as well as touchy. The wine and champagne had made you feel flushed, but Miguel’s wandering hands the entire night had served to do the same despite the soft chill of the night air. You swallowed down the last of the wine in your glass, eyes glazed as you looked at your husband.

“You always treat me so well. You spoil me.”

The cartel leader smiled softly, hand leaving your thigh to instead gently take hold of your chin.

“You deserve all of this and more.”

It was true. He viewed you as if you had been the one to hang the moon and all of the stars in the sky. You were everything to him. The only woman for him. People had said that once he was married, the novelty would die down. That you both would get comfortable, and the spark would dwindle. ‘Happens to every marriage at some point.’ People said. And Miguel was determined to make sure that didn’t ever happen to the two of you. So, he made it a point to always shower you in love, attention, affection, and gifts, never wanting the honeymoon phase to go away. And so far he had been successful, much to your appeasement.

Your eyes fluttered in your tipsy state, lashes heavy and seductive as you looked at him, a perfectly manicured finger running down the buttons of his white shirt.

“Maybe we could take a shower now.”

Miguel nodded, hand reaching for yours so he could bring it up to his lips, pressing an adoring kiss to your knuckles.

“That sounds like a great idea, mi amor.”

You were both up and off then, gaits a bit messy from the alcohol, giggles and snickers being shared amongst the two of you as you bumped into walls and corners in your haste to get upstairs. By the time you had, you both were sure there’d be slight bruises to your hips from all the edges you wandered into. That was the last thing on your mind though as you both stumbled into the bathroom, lips locked, hands wandering. It didn’t take long for your dress to be unzipped and discarded, Miguel’s button up tossed somewhere over in the corner. Your mouths were messy, hands even messier. A few bumped teeth and bent back thumbs earning laughs from the two of you.

The giggles remained even when he was inside of you, the air light and fun. When he pinched his finger putting you up on the counter. When you threw your head back and knocked it against the mirror. Miguel’s life was dangerous, as was yours by default, so carefree moments like this were what made it all worth it. It was the coil in your stomach that brought about more seriousness as you clung to him, legs locked around his waist as he pounded into you, the vase on the counter wobbling and rocking slightly

“God, you feel so good, Miguel.”

He grunted, cock twitching within you at your praise.

“So perfect. Just for me.”

He cursed, willing himself to hold back, never liking to be the one to come first. Granted, he had already made you come twice, once with his fingers and another with his mouth, but he still wanted you to be the one to come first. Your words weren’t going to make it easy for him though.

“You always know how to get me, preciosa.”

You laughed, Miguel shuddering as your walls clenched and tightened with your chuckling.

“Fuck, stop that.”

His words only served to make you laugh more, your drunken brain not able to understand.

“Stop what? I thought you liked my laugh. You always said it was cute.”

He nodded, a small laugh of his own leaking out.

“I do. And it is. But not when I’m trying not to come.”

It clicked then and Miguel shook his head as your lips formed an O, now understanding.

“My apologies.”

You had meant to stop laughing. Truly, you had. But now you had the giggles, and they didn’t seem to be going anywhere or stopping any time soon. So, you laughed, and laughed more at Miguel’s clenched jaw, a bead of sweat forming on his forehead as he struggled, cursing as he spilled within you. Your giggles died down as he settled, your eyes enamored as they looked at him with not an ounce of disappointment, only love.

“Sorry. I couldn’t help it.”

Miguel nodded, understanding.

“Yeah, yeah. You owe me one.”

At that you quirked a brow, leaning up to tease him.

“I’d think you owe me one, actually.”

With a shake of his head, Miguel pulled out and nodded, a worryingly mischievous look in his eye as he agreed then sunk down to his knees before you, his breath chilling the mess that was spread over your lips and inner thighs.

“You’re absolutely right.”

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#imagines #mayans mc #valentines day drabble event #miguel galindo x reader #miguel galindo #mayans imagine

[nmjoo-n]

REAL OR NOT REAL 🍦 jung hoseok.

pair. fashion designer! hoseok x fem! reader | genre. one night stand, strangers to lovers, pining, romance, slight angst | warnings. profanity, vaping, pet names, jealousy, age gap, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, dirty talk, praising, spanking, slight degradation, masturbation, edging, voyeurism, fingering | word count. 7.9k

synopsis. “you’ve been begging to get fucked since the moment you walked through that door, beautiful. real or not real?” or hoseok respectfully couldn’t give less of a fuck what your father thought of him. he wouldn’t stay away from you.

January is the coldest month of the year in Osaka.

Snow falls white and melts slowly, temperatures drop to single digits and stay there for weeks on end, but the Sōsei River always flows the same to you, even underneath ice, even after kissing a boy next to it, forever changing the course of your life. It stays moving, unbothered; water as water does. In that way it seems to you, you’ll never truly be rid of Jung Hoseok. Or his blueberry ice vape smoke.

It was through no fault of yours the attraction your body held for him. As if a magnet existed between the two of you, your bodies seemed attuned to one another, joined by a force greater than logic, than reason. Because it made absolutely no sense how badly you wanted him to fuck you in the storage room on your break that first time he walked through the doors of your dad’s ice cream parlor. None.

Nor were you ever going to admit how fast he got under your skin, charmed you into bed with a single dazzling smile, offering you a room in the most expensive hotel in your city, messing those feathery soft curls up with his long fingers. You were in big trouble. It wasn’t even the flirting that did it, it was the determination; the stubbornness of his coming to the shop every single day since that afternoon, picking a different flavor on a cone, a cup, a waffle bowl; with sprinkles, then plain, then all kinds of syrups—and your choice, what he’d seen once next to the register, vanilla ice cream with caramel drizzle and brownie chunks. What he witnessed your tongue lick off a plastic spoon when time stopped once and for all for him.

Your dad had noticed, of course. How could he have not—you were a neighborhood store, with regulars that dated back so many years before your birth. Newcomers were few and far between, usually foreigners. Americans. Hoseok was the odd one out from the beginning. But it never seemed to bother him, all the stares—you doubt he’d even noticed.

He looked important with his shoulder length dark hair, hair that curled at the ends, sunglasses always covering those almond shaped eyes. The clothes he wore was a whole other thing; the designs and patterns mixing together, colors clashing in the most interesting of ways. When you asked how is he not yet absolutely fucking sick of ice cream, he answered:

“I come here for you.” You knew that. Everyone knew that.

“I’m working, sir.”

Hoseok smiled at that. He looked really sweet when he smiled; younger too, though you guessed he couldn’t be a day above twenty five. His skin was clear, the way he carried himself was assertive, confident. Not arrogant, just self-assured, if maybe a little cocky. But it suited him, you thought. His straight, pearly white teeth blinding, was making it hard to look straight at him.

It was definitely not how handsome he was. Or the black card in his hand, the card he always used to pay for his purchases, several rings adorning his long fingers, colorful bracelets in both wrists. A character, that’s what this man was. Eccentric, but not loud. Demanding to be seen, to be looked at, but not expecting it. It really was no mystery how you ended up in his bed, just one week after that.

“You get off at some point, though, don’t you, doll? Or does your daddy lock you up in here?” He commented, then chortled to himself. “Can’t blame him—I wouldn’t bear to lose you either.” And then he winked at you.

If you lost your footing for a second there, you regained your composure just as fast. He really had a way about him; his incessant flirting, the silent observing he did in the five minutes he spent at the shop every day—so far he knew the man on the other end of the counter was your father, watching over the stream of clients and, of course, his daughter. Only daughter, if Hoseok were to take a not-so-wild guess, the reason for his overprotectiveness. And something else, something he found by honest chance, what led him to keep coming back for the creamy dessert—

He saw you leaving class one morning, right before Christmas break. You were with friends, completely oblivious to the single fucking fact—your beauty. You were breathtaking in your white skirt and lilac sweater, chunky snow boots trudging along the pavement, laughing wildly, openly. A force of nature, the girl with the knitted sweater—a fashion major. Like him.

But for him that school had been a struggle of the past; four years to be exact. You were a sophomore, he’d learned from one of his good faculty friends in the University, a promising student.

“Show me her designs.”

Talented, indeed. Unique, with soft lines and interesting uses of light and sewing. A pioneer in the use of delicate fabric like silk and lace, surpassing even him, though hard to admit. A bittersweet revelation, but an awakening all in one. An asset for his atelier, if you’d do him the honor of joining his team of five. But how could he ask you, and when would it be the appropriate time?

Hoseok didn’t want to scare you, or pressure you into anything you weren’t comfortable with. He’s been sketching since he was a little kid, no more than four years old on his mom’s kitchen table, his childhood home, so far away from Japan, and yet not far at all. Tall silhouettes with no faces, clothes draped over them, inexperienced and sloppy. No technique, no real life in them. No source of inspiration for him to draw from—like an answer to his prayer, twenty four years too late, you show up.

He’d rather slit his throat than let you slip from his fingers. So, he follows and ends up at an ice cream shop. A small business, with minimal, sand white interior and the largest selection of flavors he’s ever seen. Things he’s never even tasted. Brown sugar tea, matcha chocolate chip, peanut butter caramel—nonsensical combinations that with time he grew to love. Because you’d thought of them, because your mind worked different, and he loved your mind.

Jung Hoseok swore to himself that first time he entered the parlor—this girl will be mine. Damn anyone that stands in my way.

“He’s noticed, you know,” you say, trying to scare him away with the menacing thought of your father, an authoritative figure, a military man.

“Has he?” Hoseok takes the cone from you, taking a cookie chunk in between his lips. He watches you watch him, basks in your attention.

He wonders if you’d give him the same eyes as he’s licking your sweet pussy all over, getting you ready for him. A distracting thought, certainly a dangerous one, but he was never one to back down from a challenge. And you were important; a muse, a fellow designer he respected and needed with him as soon as possible, no matter the title you’d end up having under him, whether it be friend, girlfriend, fuck toy. As long as he got to work with you, learn from you, and show you in return. Hoseok wasn’t a selfish man, something that’s bothered him immensely. He offered options, he accepted refusals. He thought he could accept yours with dignity, until he got a taste of your mouth, of your cunt.

After that, ‘no’ was an alien word to him, a concept he banished from his vocabulary. For you. Because of you. You’d have him negotiating enormous amounts of money to have you work for him in a few weeks time, and if only the both of you were aware of that earlier. Then, maybe the heartbreak wouldn’t have been so terrible, the loss not as great.

“A twenty five year old man obsessing over his daughter? Yes, I think that’d be quite clear,” you retorted sarcastically. “Sir.”

Hoseok rose an eyebrow at your chosen name for him, sensing the power you thought you held by addressing him like that. If you were anywhere else but there, he’d bend you over and show you what a stubborn fucking girl like you got for calling him ‘sir.’ But in front of your father? He smirked.

“Twenty eight, sweetheart,” he corrected you, amused. “The rest was correct.”

A new person walked in, then, the bell above the door ringing as the door closed behind them. Your arms uncrossed from under your chest, your breasts bouncing slightly in your bra. The brown haired man tightened the hold he had on the waffle cone, the crunchy sound of it breaking apart bringing him back at once. Your father neared the part of the counter you stood at.

“You need to leave,” you pleaded this time, and it was your panicked tone that made Hoseok question the true hold your dad had on you. “Please, okay?”

“You heard the girl, young man,” the older man brushed him off, welcoming the customer warmly. But the threat remained, lingered over both parties like a cloud heavy with rain.

Leave or else.

“I don’t answer to you, old man,” he retaliated, keeping his tone calm, his anger under control. For your sake. For his, later on. “I’ll see you later, doll, yeah?”

He turned to walk away, but not before seeing your small nod towards what he’d said. You feel the same, don’t you, pretty baby? I fucking knew it, I saw right through you.

Hoseok is nothing if not patient. He’ll wait as long as it takes.

The second time he sees you outside the shop, he approaches you. He tells himself it’s not like the first time, you know him now, he has reason to fall in step with you, ask where you’re heading.

Your coat is chocolate brown, your scarf a burgundy shade that matches your lips. He imagines you wearing his clothes, his designs, sketched after you, your body type. If you let him. He’d work the hardest for you. He could think of no one else better than you to model his creations.

“Let me guess what’s under that coat, beautiful.”

You jump at his voice, clutching at your bag protectively. He chuckles, hands in the pockets of his oversized leather jacket. Shinsaibashi is busy at this time, a late evening on a Saturday. Valentine’s Day decorations have already been put in place, January giving way to February, the snow leaving with it. The lights of the station ahead of you illuminate in your eyes, the flush on your cheeks giving you an animated glow. Hoseok can’t stop staring.

He wants to wrap his arms around you, pull you close. Take you on a date. Bring you to his Atelier and keep you there, a prisoner for art, but for something else too, something he can’t quite put a finger on. He’s attracted to you, of course, you’re so fucking gorgeous it makes his chest ache with the thought of someone else even looking at you. A possessiveness with no grounds—he has no way of showing this to you in a healthy way.

It’s a primitive instinct, caveman behavior. Usually, such feelings are below him, they never end up reaching his heart enough to shake him. His mother raised him a gentleman, and then she passed with her mind at ease. He promised this to her; he’d always treat women with respect, always put his manners above his desires. But with you—he’d undress you right there, against the traffic light pole. He’d fuck himself into you until you know no other words aside his first and last name. Hoseok wants to own you, he realizes with a strange terror.

Your body, and your genius mind. He’d do fucking anything.

“Do you always walk up to women like that?” You ask, avoiding his gaze, instead focusing with all your might on your destination.

He chooses not to reply to that. His cheap dates and faceless women that’ve passed through his bed are of no concern to you. “You love your knits, don’t you?” He fingers the sweater poking through the collar of your coat.

“What’s the interest in my clothing choices?”

“I’m a fashion enthusiast through and through, doll. Some call me a designer.”

You stop at that. He misses the sound of your heeled boots immediately, the way they hit the pavement confidently, with purpose. He wonders how the leather of them would feel around his shoulders, digging into his skin.

Your eyes squint at him. “Are you lying?”

“I don’t lie very well,” he replies honestly.

“How’d you know, then?” You question him. “Surely, you know. Somehow. Is that why you won’t leave me alone?”

“Watch it!” He shouts, eyes widening.

Hoseok’s reflexes are faster than yours—he pulls you on his chest as a man nearly knocks you over running, shouting apologies behind him. He looks down at the top of your head, your stiff body curled in his arm. You smell like peaches, a scent he’s smelled before at the parlor, entirely too sweet and fragrant.

You pull away before he can ask how it is possible that you fit perfectly against him, familiar and warm. He can feel his pulse beating in his ears, the blood rushing through his veins.

“Thank you,” you mumble, embarrassed. “That guy came out of nowhere.”

“You need to be more aware of your surroundings, sweetheart.”

“Noted.” You breathe in, and hitch your bag high on your shoulder. Then you start walking once again, leaving Hoseok to stare after you.

He shakes his head and follows.

“You still haven’t answered my question,” you remind him.

He smirks at that. “I will if you answer one of mine.”

“It’s not a negotiation,” as you maneuver around people, crossing the intersection carefully.

The sky has long set, a bright darkness settled over everything, billboards, and tens of stores beaming like lighthouses, luring everyone in. This area is one that Hoseok knows very well, having walked it thousands of times on his way to school, and work, years before establishing his own business.

“I’m not negotiating.” To his surprise, no comeback from you this time. So, he continued. “Where are you going?”

You laugh, teeth and everything, head falling back as you lose your tempo of walking. You don’t seem to mind, though. Hoseok is aware his question is ridiculous in the grand scheme of things. He doesn’t know you, has barely talked to you, yet is now asking about your plans. The same peculiar feelings stirs in him, the one from earlier.

He’d take you out then, if you allowed him to. Then, he’d tell you his proposition. He’d ease you in, explain all the ways an internship with him would actually benefit your academic career, even put you on the map. He wouldn’t be too proud of his name and what it offers, but would instead lead with the facts, his tone calm but stern, like that of a teacher’s.

Come with me and I’ll show you all I know.

“What do I say to that? Is there anything you want to hear?” You reply amused, after your laughter has died down.

“Yes,” he admits, admiring the bustle of downtown. “I want you to let me take you out.”

When he looks back at your face, you’re very evidently blushing. Still, you don’t give in. A good thing, since Hoseok didn’t think you for the type to do so.

“What if I tell you I have a date?” And you raise a good point, he thinks.

If only he cared for it. “You’ll have more fun with me, doll, I can promise you that much.”

You enter the plaza, restaurants and cafés surrounding you now, all kinds of smells swirling in the crispy winter air. He studies you coming up with a remark to his statement. You look the cutest going up against him. He even considers letting you win; if only so much wasn’t at stake.

“What if it’s with my very handsome high school boyfriend?”

Hoseok grins at that, barely containing his snicker. “Dump him. You’ll grow bored of him soon.”

He could tell you’re just enjoying the banter now. There’s no date, no boyfriend. You might’ve had an appointment, or an engagement to something, but that flew out the window the moment he got a hold of you. It felt nice to be intellectually challenged for once, especially by you, a person he held in high regard after witnessing your work. Your beauty.

“For someone older than me—I thought you were supposed to have my best interest at heart?”

Hoseok decides to end the stroll short, having had enough of your poorly concealed shivering. He guides you inside a close friend’s café, holding the glass door open for you to enter, unable to look away as you pass past him.

“I am a generous man, sweetheart, but even I have limits,” he pulls a chair for you to sit on, choosing one of the tables in front of the window wall. “Your best interest is me,” he leans down to whisper in your ear.

Peaches invade his senses once again, rendering him unable to think of nothing else but you. You, you, you—

It is that very night you follow him to his hotel room.

After your coffee date, he suggested a bistro not too far from where you were, and refused you paying for your share. And even then, you had no intention of leaving, no good excuse as to why you had to go home. Hoseok was—so much fun. No man had ever made you laugh harder, his smart comments and sarcastic remarks only adding to his charm. Your ex held nothing against him, a comparison you couldn’t help making. Eight years between you, though you wouldn’t be able to tell. He followed the flow of your thoughts easily, adapted to your personality, and led the conversation back every time you rambled on.

Your common ground was, of course, fashion. Designing. He mentioned his Atelier only once, something other men would boast endlessly about. He offered to give you a tour, if you were ever interested, and you jumped on the opportunity. It was a designers dream to own an atelier, or even a boutique—it definitely was your dream. And Hoseok was willing to be so kind as to bring you into his own, for you to explore and learn.

He realized you had too much to drink only when your hand wrapped around his bicep, your chair closer than it had been half an hour ago. Did he miss the rejected calls that read ‘Dad’ on your phone? No, he didn’t. He ignored them. Because the intentions he had with you weren’t honest at all, weren’t innocent or honorable—nothing of the sort.

And daddy definitely didn’t need to fucking know or ever find out.

“Where is this going, doll?” Hoseok decided to lay his cards down, wait for your move. The hand you’d deal him back.

You swirled the dark liquid in your glass around, looking at it like it was the most interesting thing on planet Earth. Like it would somehow show you the answer, tell you what you need. Your warmth was intoxicating, unbelievably comforting. It’d been so long since a girl made him feel this way—unable to get a fucking grip. On many things.

“Isn’t this the part where you say something romantic albeit overused and I fall for it?” You ask, your tone cutting through the air between you.

No bullshit. He liked that about you. “What’d make you fall, sweetheart? Tell me and I’ll do it, I have no shame.”

Your wine stained lips curved slightly, the softest smile appearing on your flushed face. He tilted his head better to get a good look at you, and reached out with his thumb to wipe at your mouth. The red lips fell open, seemingly keen on following the digit to find its owner.

Hoseok’s other hand went underneath the table to readjust his hard cock, the time you’ve spend rubbing against him enough to get him fucking impatient and leaking in his boxers. The hold you had over him scared the living hell out of him—he’d either do something about it or leave you alone once and for all. No in between, not when dealing with you.

“There it is,” you mused. “The promise of letting go your inhibitions for me—a tempting bargain, surely I can’t refuse.”

The brown haired man stared at the empty table in front of him, enjoying your head on his shoulder, your hair tickling his neck. He couldn’t help but admire your stubbornness, your calculated answers. He wondered.

“I’ve never pretended to be anything other than what I am, doll. What I want—I’ve put it in simple words, haven’t I?” He whispers to you, an intimate conversation between almost lovers.

“I know what kind of man you are, Hoseok—my daddy has warned me about men like you,” you retort with a hint of bitterness, something that doesn’t slip past him.

He’s all ears. Anything that will explain the mystery of Jung Hoseok. “And what kind of man am I, (Y/N)?”

“Unyielding. A puzzle,” you lift your head, meeting his eyes. “Transparent.”

An adequate answer for what he’d shown you. He could describe himself impressed, even. But then your eyes bared him naked, dug deeper, struck gold—the hidden part, the ugly truth.

“A lonely man, aren’t you?” You continue, voice velvet, angelic. “Sad in the world you’ve created. All artists are, in some way.”

He kisses you. Just grabs your jaw and smashes his lips on yours, arm wrapping around you, melting you onto him. You don’t pull away, don’t yell at him to fuck off, or slap him, call him names. You’re kissing back. A fucking miracle—the miracle he was waiting for, the one he was secretly hoping for. Here. In his arms. Responsive.

He does take you to the hotel. He ravages your mouth the whole way there, and when you’re finally alone, the pretenses fell, whatever was left of them, and the distance was non existent. In all ways.

“An artist needs a muse,” he mutters against your breast. “But you’re not just that, are you, beautiful? You’re a fucking equal, you’re someone I’d give every last penny to have design under me, under my name. Will you accept?”

He tastes like artificial blueberries and mint. He lays you on the bed he’s been sleeping for the past month, and has his way with you. Tears off your tights, and carefully removes the knitted sweater, a piece you created yourself he’ll learn later on, knitting, a hobby your mother used to enjoy before she passed—but for now, you knew only desire, only how much you wanted him, on you, in you, all ways you could have him, and his curls felt nice in between the cracks of your fingers, his tongue felt warm against your cheek, against your lips, against the crevice of your neck.

“You can’t buy me, I’m not for sale,” you tell him sternly.

Hoseok doesn’t waver, doesn’t miss a beat. “Can I have you, then? As mine? Would you take me?”

His hands are everywhere, your body is a forest fire and he’s the match, the lighter, the gasoline, everything all at once, but when they creep between your thighs—oh, it’s a whole different crime. An arsonist, repenting for his sins. He pulls the fabric that’s standing between him and your cunt, and then his long fingers are pushing inside your entrance, your wetness coating his knuckles. He curses, and spits on your slick, continuing his taking, his wish to have you come just like this, before he can feel you on his dick. The sweet thing he’s been dreaming of for weeks.

Your moans fill the dark room in the most delicious way; music to his fucking ears. He wants more, he wants this sound imprinted on his eardrums, to listen to it always, to get haunted by the melody of it, the crescendo of the labored breathing, your soft, broken voice. Sweetest fucking thing he’s ever heard.

“Is this why you wouldn’t leave me alone?” You gasp when his fingers are replaced by something bigger, something harder.

His shirt is half way unbuttoned, his necklace falling against your chest cold, the metal shiny, as he comes face to face with you, eyes boring into yours. He slams inside you in one swift movement, pushes you up towards the headboard with the sheer force of his thrusting. You hold onto him, bring him closer, legs wrapping around his torso, lips pressed on the side of his face. You can see that dark gaze behind your eyelids, the intensity of it as his cock slips past your folds. There is no more holding back, you’re bearing everything to him now. What he wanted.

Your phone buzzes in your bag for the tenth time that night, the hour reading past midnight. You hear it faintly, but for the life of you cannot seem to bother with it. You’re an adult, you remind yourself stubbornly. You can do whatever you like, stay out as long as you please. Get fucked by whoever you want.

“This—” Hoseok buries his head in the crook of your neck, chuckling darkly, breathlessly. “I would risk a lot of fucking things to have this again, sweetheart. Your cunt welcomed me right in, I can’t get fucking enough.”

“Show me,” you whisper to him, arms tightening around him. “If you’re telling me the truth—show me.”

He does. He moves inside you with vigor; like he’s afraid someone’s going to snatch you away, like there’s a time limit to how long he gets to have you like this, unraveled underneath him, for him, like an opened gift—take me, take me, I’m yours, play with me. Hoseok craves your body like a madman, but wants your mind the most. The way it works, the thought process you possess…it’s the sexiest thing about you.

Sweet, beautiful girl. All for me, and this cunt—Christ, this fucking cunt. Let me drown in it, doll, let me have it again and again, and again. Let me…let me take care of you, baby. Come with me. Fuck, you’re driving me crazy. Your hips are meeting every single one of his thrusts halfway, falling into a steady rhythm, slow fucking with sudden, hard strokes, sex you’ve never experienced. It’s intimidating, how he’s staring down at you, like you’re the only thing—like gravity. Without you, there’d be no reason.

Is this what love looked like, perhaps? No. That was the wine talking. You couldn’t, you absolutely couldn’t fall for this man, there was no space for him in your life. And yet… “Fuck!” You fall back against the pillows, too lost in pleasure to think anymore. To hell with thoughts, what good did they do anyway? Hoseok kisses your temple like he senses your inner battle. Then he fucks you hard and fast, mercilessly digging into your sore pussy.

Your phone rings again. He growls; you groan.

“Answer,” he barks, and you’re close. So fucking close, if he’d just move— “Answer him, sweetheart or I fucking will. And no one’s gonna like what I have to say.”

“Hoseok, please, God, please!”

He seizes your thighs and raises your legs, then grabs both ankles in one hand and holds you like that, fucking into you so much deeper, so much better. You’re coming instantly, shaking unstoppably, tears stinging in your eyes. You fist the sheets underneath you, and fucking take it; his cock bruising your insides, the stretch of your hamstrings, the slaps he unleashes on your ass.

“Goddamnit, fuck,” he spills inside you muttering a string of unidentifiable curses, panting over you. “Do you fucking feel this, beautiful? You’re mine now,” he drops your legs, snatching your chin, forcing you to look at him straight in the eye. His face is dead serious. “No one else’s. Mine.” He kisses you once, hard. “Answer. I won’t say it again.”

You scramble to find your purse on the floor. He falls on the bed, breathing labored, hair sticking on his forehead. Hoseok tilts his head to look at you, wants to see the look of embarrassment as you tap on the call to talk to your father, his seed inside you, your cunt no doubt still clenching at the sudden emptiness. If it was up to him, he’d let your precious daddy know about what you were up to, and whisk you away.

“Hey, daddy,” you say, your voice high pitched, straining to sound normal. Hoseok smirks at that. His dick hadn’t even been anywhere near your mouth, and yet you sounded like he face-fucked you for an hour straight. “No, daddy, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t fucking apologize,” the naked man on the bed scolds you, feeling anger bubble in his chest.

You ignore him, instead trying to find your underwear and the rest of your clothes. You were leaving, he realized and his stomach dropped. At daddy’s beck and call, huh? Hoseok’s pettiness wasn’t his proudest attribute, but it was definitely a strong part of him. Especially when it came to your father. He honest to God couldn’t understand why that military man annoyed him so much. Was it that illogical hold he had over you, a young college woman? There was no reason for you to go home tonight, he thought grimly. And you shouldn’t. Not if he could help it.

“I was with a friend, daddy, and we got carried away—I’ll be right there, okay—Hoseok!”

“Hey, old man, how about you stop terrorizing your daughter, huh?” He pressed the phone against his ear, standing taller than you, your dainty wrist imprisoned in his death grip. You went to pull away, get your phone back—he moved away, glared at you.

The line was dead silent for a moment, aside from even breathing. Hoseok figured he must be gathering his thoughts. Or his fists. “I should’ve known she’d fall for scum like you,” your father’s booming voice tore through the speaker, the calm before the storm. “You’ve no idea what I’m capable of, son, and I suggest you don’t try to find out.”

“Hoseok, please stop, give it back,” you whisper, and a couple angry tears spill on your plumb cheeks. He wants to wipe them away, but he’s overstepping enough. You might hate him even more if he tries to console you.

Despite all this, he doesn’t give in. “With all due respect, I don’t know who the fuck you think you’re talking to,” he retorts, all ice and sharp edges. Unrecognizable, you can’t help but think. Cold and heartless.

“Your daughter is old enough. And she’s with me, safe and sound. I’m keeping her here tonight. As much as she’d like your blessing for this, I could care less for it. Have a goodnight.”

Hoseok doesn’t need to look at your face to know you’re angry at him. He can sense your shaking, but he doesn’t think it’s for justice you feel towards your father. He was rude, obviously; if anything Hoseok was fucking terrible to the only family you seemed to have, and had probably severed all bridges to a good relationship with who he assumed would one day be his in-law. Despite this fact, the deed was done, the choice made.

Anyone that belittles and disrespects you like that is of no importance to him. And the same should go for you, he’d try to teach you if you decided to come with him. He just needed to make you see. But the decision was all yours, something he couldn’t help.

“Why?” You ask, giving up on your fight to free yourself from his hold. “Why’d you do that?”

Hoseok tried to level you with a sharp look. He needed you to calm down, to be able to think straight. Otherwise none of what he was about to tell you would make any sense. First, he needed an ambush—a distraction.

He pulled you into his arms, his hand holding the back of your head in place, your chest against his chest, breath on his neck, heartbeat becoming one with his. He tried to shush you into obedience, rubbing circles on your back, whispering in your hair.

“We’ll play a game of truth now, beautiful. Know you can be honest with me, there’s nothing in the fucking world you can tell me that’ll stop me from pursuing you,” he starts with a steady voice, bracing himself to use all of his strength if necessary.

Keeping you with him was essential, especially after tasting you, having you so completely, so utterly.

“I don’t understand,” you mutter, lost.

“But you will,” he promises. “See, a couple years ago you went for a walk in the middle of the night, next to the river. It was snowing then, too, wasn’t it?”

Hoseok feels you shake your head. He smiled softly, patiently. “I assumed as much,” he continues. “Sweetheart, you kissed me that night. You had a bruise on your cheek, tears in your eyes. Freezing cold,” his tone grew harsher, unwavering gaze deadly at the memories replaying in his mind.

You go to pull back—he doesn’t let you. His cock stands fully erect between you, but he won’t make another move on you tonight. He just wants you to remember, to understand.

“That boy…that was you?” You question, shocked. “It was dark, I’d barely caught your face. Was that really you, Hoseok?” This time there was no holding you back.

Your eyes met. Your glistening ones to his rage filled ones. Rage for what would go unsaid, to the question he wouldn’t dare ask, wouldn’t bring himself to bring up in fear of hurting you further, of embarrassing you more than your father, once again, already has. But his entire journey to find you—it ends here, now, his mystery girl in his arms, finally. It almost felt like destiny, a thing he most definitely believed in. You crossing his path—it was meant to happen.

“Real or not real, baby?” He asks you, vulnerable by all accounts. “You tell me.”

Your mouth opens, then closes. It’s evident you’re still slowly processing the information. Hoseok won’t blame you. “How’d you find me?”

“By chance. I was craving ice cream,” he smirks down at you. You blush. Adorable. “Recognized your eyes, they sparkled in that same way…like stars. Sad, but so fucking beautiful. Then, I found out about your school. Same I attended,” he goes to explain further, seeing your expression change. “I needed to learn more about you, sweetheart, don’t punish me for that. If I knew more, I could get closer to you. But then you kept showing up everywhere I looked, and I realized—I’d find you anywhere, because you seemed to find me first.”

“I need time to think about this, I—” you press the back of your hand against your forehead, sighing incredulously. “Please. Understand,” your gaze rises to meet his own, and he sees.

The hesitation. The intrigue. The fear, no doubt instilled by your father. He nodded, his lips going for your temple, pecking the skin there, hands smoothing your hair back.

“Promise me,” he whispers softly. “If he gives you any trouble, any at all, doll, you call me. Is that clear?”

You don’t reply, but instead—kiss him. Hoseok has no time to react, couldn’t even close his eyes—you kissed him. In light, your head straight. Initiating it first…it made his heart swell, his cock twitch. The girl of his dreams, his sweet, talented girl, showing him she liked him back.

He was gonna die, as soon as you left, no doubt about it. How to stay away from you after that?

“I know how to handle my father, Hoseok,” you tell him later, fully dressed, bag in hand. “You figure out a way to be in the same room as him without wanting to beat his face in. A favor, to me. Please.”

He nods once, jaw clenched. “Won’t make any promises.”

You smile, and the whole world blooms. “Good enough.”

Exhaling blueberry smoke, he waits outside of your apartment, a figure dressed in all black, expensive sunglasses, once again, hiding those indecipherable eyes.

A goddamn tease, is his first thought upon seeing you walk through the lobby doors. Spitting image of him, in a female version and with boots. Would you make it to the restaurant—it was up for debate. God knows it’d been the longest week of his life without you, and Hoseok once prided himself for not having an obsessive personality. All went out the window when it came to you, and fuck it. You were worth it.

“Stop staring, Jung,” you tease, but you seem reserved.

“Fuck no,” he exclaims, but then you stop half a foot away from him, and he has to ask, it’s eating at him. “Why are you—”

Your father shows from behind the same doors, tall and muscular. He’s at least two inches taller than Hoseok, and looks like he’d rather be burning in hell than have to talk to his daughter’s possible boyfriend. The younger man thinks he should just go ahead with the former option, he’ll end up there sooner or later anyway.

You clear your throat, your eyes pleading with him to play nice. He will, for you. But only if your father does the same.

“I wanna make one thing clear to you, kid—”

“I’m no fucking kid,” Hoseok cuts him off sharply.

You sigh, and your father snickers, lips curling in disdain. “What are you doing with my daughter, then?”

“I have a business, a house, a car,” he retorts simply. “Enough money to feed my children’s children. (Y/N) will be comfortable and loved—is that what you want to hear?”

“Are you proposing a marriage, son?”

You paled, reached for a hand to hold. Hoseok didn’t hesitate. Your father followed the movement with his hard eyes, arms crossed over his big chest.

“One day if she so wishes,” he replies. “I’ll do whatever she wants, be whatever she needs. Like I said—I don’t need your blessing. But I realize I cannot shield her completely from you, nor take her away from her only family.”

“You have balls,” the older man admits. Then nods in agreement, no matter how against the idea of you two together he is. You’d made sure he had no other choice but to accept it. “Hurt one fucking hair in her body and I’m coming after you,” he threatens.

Hoseok doesn’t get scared easily, and this time is no different. He understands the importance of this moment in the grand scheme of things, so he goes along with it. The squeeze of your hand in his tells him he’s doing the right thing.

“I’ll let you, you can be sure of that,” he shakes on it firmly.

He’d gladly pretend and say you made it to your reservation, but that’d be a fucking lie. With the way you looked, and the taste of you still vivid in his mind, all he wanted was to trap you under him and have his way with you again.

At first, he saw the way you rubbed your thighs together as he drove to your destination. Filthy little slut and her naughty fucking thoughts. Hoseok even made a show out of it, making sure to flex his forearms, gripping the steering wheel tightly, avoiding your gaze as he focused entirely on the attention you gave him.

“Okay over there, beautiful?”

“Mhmm.”

He smirked, eyes on the road, fingers tapping on the wheel. “Is that so?”

He heard your breath hitch, but your recovery was instant. “It is,” you affirmed, but the truth was louder.

“How about if I told you to touch yourself for me, doll? Would you do that?” He asked sinisterly, throwing a side glance your way.

Your mouth fell open slightly, a sight he fucking loved. He couldn’t wait to bury himself inside that hole, cum all over your pretty face, have you beg to do so. Sex with you was glorious, it ignited something in him that has been asleep for years.

“Open those legs for me, baby. Let me see you.”

“Hoseok…” you trail off, scared—excited.

The curve of his lips deepens. “Do as I say, and you’ll be rewarded.”

Your skirt hikes up your legs as you hesitantly part your thighs, turning in the passenger seat so that he could admire the view. Hoseok turns at once, slowing down at a red light. Black lace panties with a small, pretty ribbon on top, your smooth pussy practically bare for anyone to see. If that skirt were to rise just a little bit higher—his mood darkens just with the thought of someone else witnessing what’s his.

“My girl…such a desperate whore,” he snarls, refusing to touch you. He could see your hips buck towards him, needy for friction, for attention. “Aren’t you? Eager to get fucked by anyone with a cock? Is that why you’re wearing such small fucking skirts all the goddamn time?”

“No,” you shake your head, offended but turned on. He could smell you from miles away, that slick wetness of yours… “I promise, no.”

Hoseok drives again, pressing on the gas harshly. You gasp. He’s insane with need—for you, for what you’re offering so openly. “That’s not what your sweet little pussy is telling me right now. Pull those panties to the side for me, sweetheart, rub that clit for me, I know it’s begging to be touched.”

You do exactly as you’re told, your juices nearly staining the car seat. He had a way with words, a way that made you do anything for him just so you could hear that filth escape his kissable mouth. It turned you on to indescribable extends, you’d turn into anyone for him. Anyone he wanted, no questions asked.

He hears your breathy moans, the wet sound your sloppy cunt made as you slid those fingers along your folds, dragging them up to that small bundle of nerves all the way to the top, and pressing there. Then, moving in circular motions, two fingers, head falling back, broken sounds escaping your desperate body. Hoseok was in hell, split between parking the car on the side of the road and taking you right then or continuing to watch you lose yourself to self pleasure, his gaze and dirty mouth enabling your release closer and closer.

“Christ, you’re insatiable, aren’t you? Acting like you haven’t been fucked in years…such a slut, doll. That’s it, keep going—my beautiful girl, look at that fucking pussy, I just wanna drink it all up, slurp on it until I wipe you clean,” he adjusts the bulge in his jeans, clearing his throat of any hoarseness. “You’d let me, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes…”

He makes a left turn, closing his eyes momentarily to get a grip on himself. You were driving him wild, he had no will left to hold him back. No fuck to give if you got caught. He had to have you, had to slip inside you, God the fucking sound! So goddamn wet…

“Go on, baby, stretch yourself out for me, slide those fingers inside that gaping hole, I know how much you need it,” he continues his unbearable verbal teasing, edging not only you but himself, until he absolutely drove both of you to the brink of madness. You had turned into a moaning mess, tears running down your cheeks, one hand gripping the handle of the door as the other worked yourself into oblivion.

“You have me so hard for you, baby, so fucking hard. Put your leg up on the armrest, let me see you. You’ve been begging to get fucked since the moment you walked through that door, beautiful. Real or not real?” He almost doesn’t turn his eyes back on the road on time, breaking hard when another car merges in his lane.

You cry out, the sudden halt digging your digits deeper into your cunt, reaching a spot that almost makes you come right then and there. Hoseok fucks it all to hell, and swerves, pulling behind a parked car, and turning off the engine in the middle of a busy boulevard. He unbuckles his belt, and pulls his rock hard length out, groaning at the freeing sensation. Pumping himself a few times, falling into your rhythm, observing the way your clenching and unclenching around your fingers, honey juices glistening all over your thighs, dripping on his leather seats…

“I have to—fuck, I have to come, I can’t, I can’t—” you mumble between sobs, eyes shut, legs closing as your hand moves harder, sloppier.

“No, the fuck you won’t,” he growls, and pulls your hand away, giving your cunt two good slaps, and earning a whimper from you, before bringing his arms under your ass and lifting to sit you on his lap, positioning you over his shaft.

Your eyes are glazed over, only one thought in your mind, and he’ll make it true for you, he promises you, he pushes your hair away from your sweaty face, and drops his forehead against yours, fingers coming to wrap themselves around your delicate throat. What a fucking vision, all for him to enjoy, to ravish.

“You’re gonna let me finish you off, baby, yeah, I need to feel that sweet release on my dick,” he mutters, and then he slams you down on him, the both of you exhaling, holding onto each other. “I know you can give it to me, c’mon, fuck on me, let me have it, let me have you…” his tone comes down to a faint whisper as you start riding him.

Hoseok can only admire his pretty girl having her way on his cock, can only offer everything he has and hope she accepts it, hope it’s enough—just like that, you’re doing so good for me, doll, I fucking love you, look at you bouncing on my dick like a goddamn slut. Hands grip on your waist, your love handles, your hips, and finally your ass again as he literally moves you on top of him, hard and fast, not giving a damn about the mess he’s making of you.

He could buy you as many outfits as you liked. Or even better, fuck that; he could make you them, anything you liked. Any price, any time. You just had to utter the word, and it’d be considered done.

“I’m the only fucking man who can have you like this, beautiful. Real or not real?” He asks when you finally shake all over, and collapse on his chest, panting and unable to speak. Still, he pushes. He needs to know, needs the reassurance.

When it came to you, he could turn into such a self conscious asshole. Ease his mind, then, tell him once and for all and get it over with.

“Real,” a promise. A beginning. “Real.”

He cups your face and kisses your eyelids, your cheeks, your ear, nose, mouth, neck. You fall into his soft lips, his warm touch. His dark eyes talk only of adoration.

“Come work with me,” he suggests once more. “Any amount you want, it’s yours. Work with me—be with me.”

“Yes,” you smile, exhausted. “Okay.” This time you take initiative, kiss the palm of his hand. His jaw twitches, gaze flashing. “You’re not gonna leave me alone, anyway.”

When Hoseok laughs, it’s spring. It’s flowers blooming, sun beaming down on your face, children playing happily, world peace. It’s home. It’s warm, bright days. It shakes you to your core.

“Not before fucking hell freezes over,” he swears, grinning at you with that thousand watt smile.

You nod, his infectious smile transferring itself onto your face.

“Thought as much.”

#hoseok #bts hoseok #hoseok scenarios #hoseok smut #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts hobi #hoseok imagines #hoseok fanfics #hoseok fanfic #hoseok imagine #hoseok x reader #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #kpop imagines #bts fics #bts fanfics #.mine

[spookypete-94]

Friday Ice Cream

wanted to write something a little sweet for simon, slight spoiler for MW3- but nothing directly. Think this is going to be something I turn into a series and will have an actual name eventually.

It had been a tradition for you to end your week with chocolate ice cream from your favorite parlor in Manchester since you were small. In fact, you had been doing it since the time of leaving primary school and taking your neighbor friend Simon with you when he didn't want to go home.

The chocolate comforted you both - it being yours and his favorite. Life hadn't exactly been kind to you both. Your father had left your mother when you were young, and Simon's father was a terror. Many times, you had wished that his father would have left like yours did. Sure, it made things hard on your mother, but you never lived in fear like Simon did... Often standing in line, you couldn't help but think of him. He stood by your side in this line every Friday, you buying him ice cream with money given to you by your mother, and it was always the same. Your mother always made sure she treated you this way, no matter how difficult money was - sometimes it came down you buying one and sharing with Simon. But you always made him feel included. It was important to you.

At the ripe age of 17, he stopped attending with you. You hearing that he joined the military young made your heartache that he just seemed to up and disappear. Gone without a trace.

But him standing next to you in this line every Friday, you understood why. His life was hard, but you just had wished he would have said goodbye.

Moving up the line little by little, you fiddled with the hem of your shirt glancing around out the windows periodically. At the front of the line, you didn't even get to recite your normal weekly order... it was already slid to you across the counter from the cashier. Chocolate with drizzle, small brownie crumbles on it. Seeing your confused face, the cashier answered your unsaid question, "A man that was in front of you about 3 orders paid for yours."

Surely not... "Did he say who he was?"

"No ma'am, just got the same thing you did."

"Thanks," you said, rushing yourself to try to catch him. You weren't paying attention to your surroundings earlier. He was always bigger than you in youth, but other than that, you'd have had no idea what he looked like. Bursting through the door, you looked left and right- but you saw no abnormally large man. He left you once more, making your heart sad.

Next Friday, you paid better attention. Sure enough, there was a large man about 4 people in front of you. But by some act of God, you weren't quick enough to get to him in time. People in the way, workers in and out of the line. It's never this busy in here. it's like the world knew your task and worked against it. Sure enough, walking past the front register, your ice cream was pushed to you, paid for once more. Sighing and feeling defeated, you ate your ice cream on your walk home. Already deciding a plan, next week was going to be different.

On the 3rd Friday, you sat outside of the parlor at a table early, ice cream already bought for the two of you. Staying vigilant, your head turning back and forth to look for him. At last, a large man walked past you, a shadow casted over you. Your heart stopped knowing at the bottom of it, that this was him. Standing up, you gently caught his elbow, making him stop. "Simon?" Maybe it was his size, maybe it was the fact that you hadn't seen him ten plus years, maybe it was the look in his eye when he turned to you or the fact his face was covered with a mask leaving you unable to read anything about him.

"Simon?" you repeated.

"It's me," he finally answered. You let go of his arm. Handing him the ice cream you got for him, pulling out the chair.

"Would you sit with me?"

It was almost comical in away, he dwarfed the small chair. It was quiet at first. You could see his broken eyes staring at the ice cream. Your much smaller hand reaching for his.

"Hey.." you said quietly, making him look up at you. "I'm here, you alright?"

"Lost a..." he seemed to struggle to find the word, his brow squeezing together. Gripping his hand just a little closer, "A brother recently..." Your thumb stroked over the back of his hand. "And it made me think of you, I don't have many friends... I wondered how you were if you were still around."

"Still here, I didn't get very far, I'm sorry, Simon. I wish you didn't have to deal with that..." He didn't say anything, and you didn't want to pry.

"How have you been?" His voice finally echoed to you.

"Just the same old. My mom passed about 3 years ago, and it's been just me now. Still make time for ice cream, though."

"Sorry bout your mom," his umber coals locked with yours. "Ice cream is how I found you." His voice is low and raspy, seeming a bit lighter now.

"Clever, I'll give you that. Think I'm gonna change up my routine, some seeming as I'm so easy to figure out."

"You should," he said dryly, making you chuckle.

Looking down at your ice cream, you noticed it started to melt over the containers.

"You want to get out of here? You can tell me about your friend somewhere in private?"

"Yeah," he muttered, standing up from the seat.

"Missed you, wished you would have said goodbye or how to stay in contact.." You blurted, unable to contain the hurt you've felt over this decade.

"I couldn't bring myself to say goodbye, but after losing someone special out there- I knew what I did to you wasn't right."

Tired of making him feel even worse, you tried to joke. You knew this was a serious matter to him, but joking was how the two of you coped as kids through all the dark things you both encountered.

"You got so huge too. What the hell are they feeding you over seas?"

"Not chocolate, maybe why you are so small in comparison."

"Still a funny guy, at least," you said, running your shoulder into his arm. You could hear the snort of air that he always made when he smiled as a kid.

That's how it felt to you, at least, being a kid walking next to someone you grew up with. Like somehow, you've traveled back in time. There next to you was that same sweet boy dealt a difficult hand. He was and will be someone you confided in when things were going wrong or hard. He felt the same. He always had you. Maybe that's what tied you both together and why he felt bad about leaving you behind with no word. He's here now, and he is going to make up for lost time.

Simon Ghost Riley Masterlist

#cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #mw2 #simon riley #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #ghost #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #call of duty x reader #simon #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon cod #cod mw ghost #cod ghost #ghost x you

[stellamancer]

notes: uh. well. i considered writing this with todoroki and deku but. uh. i wrote bakugou instead. ahaha.... anyway, i’m not gonna say i endorse eating ice cream for breakfast but.... well no one stopped me today. :D  i’m sorry i’m always writing about food. but.... i can’t help it. i love food. also not proofread. oops

word count: 786

When you turn around and find Katsuki standing behind you in the kitchen, you nearly drop your breakfast— three healthy scoops of vanilla ice cream sitting in a small ceramic bowl decorated with bunnies. 

Maybe he won't notice, you think— you hope. You scurry past him, doing your best to seem nonchalant, like having ice cream at eight o'clock in the morning is the most natural thing in the world. 

"Oi!" he half-yells and you jump, knowing from the tone of his voice that you've been caught. "What the fuck is that?"

You whirl around and find him glaring at your bowl like it’s done something to offend. Actually, knowing Katsuki, it probably has. You smile sheepishly, "Breakfast?"

Katsuki's eyes flicker up to yours, then back down to your bowl. His mouth twists into a scowl as he says, "That's fucking ice cream."

"...and?" you ask, tempting fate itself with your question. 

"That's not fucking breakfast," he grounds out as if it should be obvious. 

At this moment, there are two choices left open to you: concede and probably put your ice cream back in the freezer to be enjoyed at a more Katsuki approved time or to defend your choice.

You choose the latter.

"Sure it is," you argue, your tone light in an attempt to make it seem like you're not picking a fight with Katsuki who is most definitely a fan of the traditional Japanese breakfast. "Whatever you eat first thing in the morning counts as breakfast, right?"

He growls and you really should have known that he wouldn't let you off the hook with that kind of explanation. "You know what I mean, brat!"

You frown and shoot back. "I wanted something sweet!"

"Then fuckin' make pancakes or something!"

"No! That's too much effort!" you argue. While you can agree that some American breakfast offerings would definitely satisfy your sweet tooth, all of them require way more effort than you're willing to put in on a weekday morning when you have work. 

Katsuki scowls and you wonder if maybe, just maybe he'll make you pancakes. If he makes you pancakes, that would be the best thing ever, actually. You wouldn't mind giving up your ice cream for a taste of Katsuki's amazingly fluffy and soft pancakes. You know he knows this too, with the way he grins menacingly at you. Were you in the right mind, and not thinking of Katsuki's delicious homemade pancakes, you would have realized the truth of what's about to happen, but you're not and Katsuki lifts the bowl from your hands and deposits it in the freezer. 

In your foolishness, you make your way to the table and wait, your mind filled with images of pancakes— stacks of warm pancakes slathered in slabs of melty butter and drenched in luscious rivers of maple syrup. You’re practically salivating at the thought.  A few moments later Katsuki deposits another bowl before you and…

It’s yogurt. 

A modest amount of creamy white yogurt in a bowl, topped with an arrangement of fresh berries topped with a glimmering drizzle of honey with a sprinkle of granola. Katsuki’s not the type to go all out on plating, so you know that he tried here, but…

“These aren’t pancakes,” you say flatly, betrayed. 

"Y'really think I've got time to make fucking pancakes?" Katsuki retorts, ready to dig into his own bowl of fruit and yogurt.

You glance at the clock and he's got to leave in the next hour and you know that Katsuki's homemade pancakes are at least a two hour affair. 

"...guess not," you grumble, pouting. You lift the spoon and thank him for the breakfast but before you take a bite, you decide to ask. "...what's the difference between this and ice cream anyway? Other than the toppings."

" 's healthier, you idiot!" he hisses. "Now shut up and eat or you'll be late!"

"...but Katsuki," you whimper pathetically. "I want pancakes now. Take responsibility for deceiving me with the promise of pancakes."

He shoots you a glare but you ignore it and give him your best puppy dog eyes. The two of you have a staring contest that lasts a couple minutes and finally, finally, he rips his gaze from yours with the annoyed click of his tongue and you know that that means he's lost.

"Fucking fine! I'll make you pancakes on our next day off!" he relents and you cheer. "But I better not fucking catch you trying to have ice cream for breakfast again!"

"Okay!" you agree cheerfully, finally digging into the yogurt bowl Katsuki’s made for you, pleased that there will be pancakes.

Even though it’s going to be a whole week until you get them.

#bakugou katsuki x you #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #nikuniku fics #i really want pancakes now omg #i don't have stuff to make them #alas #finally not an emotional support bakugou piece lmao

[ferris-the-wheel]

m!MC x Malleus Draconia

Info: Lilia invited you to make ice cream in Diasomnia's kitchen. You went to hopefully be able to save the ice cream. You're kind of the more serious type (think Den Heng, Xiao, Megumi Fushiguro, Aki Hayakawa).

@averagemultifandomenjoyer Thank you for the idea!!~ I changed it slightly, hope you don't mind!

TW: Lilia's cooking (should never be consumed)

"Lilia, you forgot to add the sugar!" You dove to stop him from mixing the incomplete ice cream. You hurriedly pressed the off button. You breathed a sigh of relief and turned to the short fae behind you.

"Huh? I don't recall sugar being in the recipe." Lilia said. You pulled your phone out of your pocket and showed him the ingredients listed on it:

Vanilla extract

Milk

Heavy whipping cream

Sugar

You pointed to the bottom of the list. "See?" You said, frowning. He laughed, putting a hand on his head. "Oops! I suppose I did forget. Thank you for reminding me." You sighed, turning back to add the salt you'd previously measured. Surely there wasn't a way to mess up ice cream, right?

"Oh, Y/N, when did you get here?" Malleus asked, suddenly appearing behind you. You turned to see the tall fae and signaled for him to follow you, wishing to spare Lilia's feelings (though you weren't sure if your words would bother him).

"Lilia wanted to make ice cream and extended an invitation to me. I came to make sure he didn't mess it up, though I'm not quite sure how he'd manage to do so." You said. Malleus nodded, crossing his arms. "Knowing Fat— Lilia, he'd find a way."

.

.

.

Wait...

"WE LEFT HIM IN THERE ALONE!"

You both rushed back into the kitchen to find the place in flames. Lilia was standing off to the side awkwardly, burn marks on his clothes. Malleus immediately doused the flames with water as you ran to check if anywhere else had caught on fire.

When you returned, you saw Malleus holding the mixture of what was supposed to be ice cream gingerly in his hand. The "ice cream" was now charred black and crunchy looking. And the smell coming from it was awful. You looked at Lilia, now very mad. "How?"

Lilia gave a sheepish smile. "I was trying to make caramel. It got a little out of control. I think next time—" He started. You quickly interrupted him. "Oh, no, there is no next time. You are never using the kitchen again without some form of competent supervision." You and Malleus both had a scowl on your faces.'

"Fine, fine. Can I have the ice cream?" He added. Malleus handed him the container of burned stuff and dragged you out of the room. "Maybe we can get ice cream somewhere else?" He suggested. You nodded, now thoroughly done with life. He grabbed your arm and you felt yourself become weightless, which was a feeling you'd become accustomed to when teleporting with Malleus.

You felt your feet touch the ground again and looked around. "The Mostro Lounge? Classy." You said. He gave a noncommittal shrug. "Anywhere besides Diasomnia." You nodded. The two of you entered the lounge and were greeted by Jade.

"Ah, Malleus Draconia, a pleasure to have you here. And Y/N L/N too." He said with a smile. "Would you two like VIP seating?" You and Malleus sighed heavily. "Seat us wherever, please." Malleus finally said. Jade's pleasant expression turned to one of surprise for a moment before returning to normal.

"Right away then, follow me." He said. You were seated in booth seats with comfortable cushions next to the glass wall. The view was quite pleasant. You felt like flopping headfirst onto the table and staring out into the sea, but you held your composure.

"I'll bring menus in just—" Jade started. "Actually, we'll have some ice cream," Malleus said. Jade's face once again changed to surprise, then he smiled. "Of course. Do you know which flavor you'd like?'

"Vanilla. With a caramel drizzle." You added, reminding you of Lilia's disaster. Someone was going to have to pay for the damage in the kitchen. Something told you the headmage was not going to be pleased. Jade nodded and walked away.

"We should get some for Lilia. And Silver and Sebek." Malleus said. You sighed. "You better be paying for this, otherwise I don't know what I'll do. Cry? Drop dead? I don't know anymore, I just want to sleep." You said, finally voicing your most pressing thoughts. Sleep. Man, that felt good right now.

Malleus chuckled. "Of course. Feel free to sleep over at Diasomnia if you'd like." You nodded. "I'm too tired to walk back to my room." Malleus laughed, which attracted a few stares from neighboring tables. You gave them a deadpan death stare only someone who is running on no sleep and debating ending everything can give. They turned around real quick after that.

"Ooo~ hiya, Nudibranch-kun! And Shrimpy-chan!" Floyd came up to you and haphazardly flopped two large ice cream bowls on your table. Damn it. You were not in the mood for Floyd and his Floydness right now. You turned and stifled a laugh. When Floyd had put down the bowls, some of the ice cream had gotten on Malleus' dorm uniform. Floyd didn't seem to notice.

"EH— FLOYD!" A voice reached your ears. Azul came hurrying over and shooed Floyd away. Now the mood was just depressing. Floyd left in a huff, now in a bad mood (you weren't complaining) and Azul was all nervous because now the Malleus Draconia had a bit of ice cream on his outfit.

"My sincerest apologies, Malleus! Is there something I can do to—" Malleus cut him off with a wave. "It's fine, Ashengrotto. It was a simple mistake." Azul gave a nervous smile and hurried off, no doubt about to give Floyd an earful. It was quite funny, actually. Malleus was actually really understanding about most things, especially accidents, yet everyone always thought he would flip his lid over every minor inconvenience.

"Ice cream time." You said, finally taking a bite.

. . .

"Are you comfortable?" Malleus asked. You were drop dead tired but managed a nod. You'd taken up the offer of sleeping over and found yourself in Malleus' bed (nothing happened, for you dirty minded people).

Malleus wrapped his arms around you, and you snuggled closer to him. You felt like you'd fall asleep at any moment. "Did you see where Lilia was?" You asked. Malleus nodded. "Yes. He was dueling Silver in an empty room."

"Oh, okay." You sighed. "I'm tired, I'm going to sleep now." You said. He laughed. "Alright, child of man."

You snuggled deeper under the covers.

Boo!! Done~ Sorry for those still waiting for their requests to be done, I'm working diligently on those! They'll be done soon! Bye~! 🧡

#disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland malleus #twst malleus #malleus x reader #malleus draconia

[iheartyouyou]

This Weekend? | Steve Harrington

Requested by anonymous: hey! i was wondering if you could write something for steve harrington? (if u have not seen stranger things just ignore this) maybe something where it’s set in season 3 and steve still worked at scoops ahoy trying to pick up girls and he hits on you and you give him a chance sorry if that doesn’t make sense, feel free to ignore

Authors Note: I so loved this idea! This is my first time writing for Steve, so it may not be the best but thank you so so so much for requesting! This is a repost from my old blog.

Summary: Steve hits on you while you order for ice cream, you give him a chance, leaving him and his co-worker in shock. (set in stranger things 3 when he worked at scoops ahoy)

“What about ice cream? You guys up for ice cream?” You ask, your eyes glued on the neon ‘Scoops Ahoy’ sign. You watched as many people walk in, and out with delicious looking banana splits or cones. You were really in a mood for a banana split.

Your friends invited you to hang out with them at the mall. You guys shopped for hours, leaving the three of you bored as you guys didn’t have much money left.

“You want to spend the rest of the money on ice cream?” Your friend, Diane, asks.

“Not all of it. We can share a banana split or something.” You offered.

“A banana split sounds good.” Your other friend, Jessica says, Diane agreeing. “But you’re getting it… we’re staying here.”

“What?” You ask.

“Our legs hurt! We’ve been walking around for hours.” Diane complains.

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever.” You mumbled before grabbing the money from Diane and making your way to the ice cream place.

You walk in. There was no line, perfect. Everybody was already sitting down, eating their ice cream.

You make your way to the front counter, watching as a unfamiliar guy was talking to a girl, his co-worker you assumed since they were wearing the same outfit, through the small window that connected to the back room. 

You rung the bell that was sitting on the counter. The guy swings around. “Ahoy! What can I get you? A taste of Cherries Jubilee? What about U.S.S. Butterscotch?” He grinned at you.

You laughed nervously. You scanned over the menu quickly before answering. “What about a banana split? With uh… vanilla ice cream.”

“Coming right up!” He exclaims, grabbing a plastic dish. He grabbed a banana before peeling it and cutting it in half. “What’s your name?” He asked, whipping out his ice cream scooper and doing a trick with it.

You quirked your eyebrow up. “Y/N.”

“You don’t have a last name?” He scooped three scoops of vanilla ice cream, placing them in between the bananas on the dish. 

“It’s Y/L/N. Y/N Y/L/N.” You say, watching as he grabbed the whipped cream. “You want whipped cream, right? Steve Harrington by the way.”

You nod. That name sounded oddly familiar…

“Sprinkles? Cherries? Any sauces?”

“Chocolate and Caramel sauce, please.” You respond.

He drizzles some chocolate and caramel sauce on the dessert. “Alright! One banana split, that’s four bucks.” He says, handing you the split as you handed him the change. “You like Run-D.M.C?” He asks, noticing your shirt.

You look down at your shirt. “Oh yeah.”

“I was actually gonna buy that exact same shirt!” He says, smiling.

“Yeah? Why didn’t you?” 

“Too expensive. Why buy a shirt of theirs when I could just listen to their music?”

“I thought the same thing! My friend insisted on buying me it anyways.” 

“This was fun. You know.. we should kind of like, you know, hang out this weekend or something.” He blurts.

Your eyes widen. Was he asking you out?

“Or like the weekend after, doesn’t really matter.” He adds.

Smooth.

You think about it for a moment, blushing. This, incredibly, hot guy was asking you out. There was no way.

“When does your shift end?” You ask him.

Now it was his turn for his eyes to widen. His co-worker does too, popping her head out the window. He quickly turns around, mouthing something to his co-worker as her jaw drops.

He turns back around. “It— It ends at nine.”

“I’ll come find you then, Steve.”

He doesn’t say anything except nod. 

You spin around, making your way back to your friends. 

“What took you so long— you didn’t even grab spoons!” Diane says.

You ignore her, placing the almost-melted banana split in front of her. “Some really cute guy just asked me out.”

#st4 #stranger things #steve harrington x you #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader

[lazyheartcomputer]

Remember what I said about you being his birthday cake? Well, today is HIS day. For round two, he'll put all kinds of fruit on your whole body, especially your wet pussy drizzled in fruit syrup. Your breasts with orange icing and your tummy that says written in orange and black icing, "to my hero dynamight". He'll drool all over you because you'd blush to death as he licks your neck, kissed your collarbone and your tits. You were his best present and cake at the same time. You moaned and begged more of his cream filling to be inside of you. But he wants to do something different, only on his birthday, you must cum on his face until he says so. You moaned lots as he licks your syrupy hole while he puts his tongue inside of you wiggling around like he's a snake. You moaned out his name more and more until you begged him to stop, but he doesn't stop...he's going to overstim you until he'll tell you when you cum. He grabs your breasts as you moaned in ecstacy, your legs started to shake in pleasure...you came without his permission. It's time for your punishment, because bad teddy bears came too early or soon. He wants to make a video, a special video so that he wants to remember it on his birthday. So he turns on the camera, you hide your face in embarrassment, he kisses your sweet lips so much that he's intoxicated by your own quirk, which is lust. He'll make you feel good on this special day of his. He demands you to go all fours, you do as he says, he spanks your bare ass up, he shoves his big cock inside of you as you felt thus feeling inside of you. You can feel his thrust inside of you for a minute as he switched every. Single. Position in bed with him. He was almost about to cum, he puts a vibrator inside of your ass to make it feel like you're enjoying it for real. He turns it on, you felt the vibrating sensation as you are in cloud 9. He began to thrust harder and faster, grabbing your tits and teasing your nipples so much that you can't take it anymore. The final position is a big one, full nelson. He starts to put you in that position as he starts to whisper some lewd and sexual stuff into your ear while he stops and thrusts your insides more. As the big finale comes, he starts to cum a volcano inside of your wet syrupy pussy until you can feel it so much, you came with him too. You felt like you're seeing stars with him after you both pant while laying down together as one. Perhaps being a birthday cake with him is fun, maybe next year will be very special after you wear a nightgown no wait.... sexy clothes with his colors~

#bakugou smut #happy birthday you angy son of mine #im sorry i was late for this part to be completed on this day of his birth... #bakugou katsuki smut #mha smut #bnha smut

[reimagine7]

First Crush

The words in italic means that the characters will be speaking English. If not, it means it’s Spanish.

“No, esto no es mi pedido.” “Lady, I’m sorry. But I don’t understand. No understando.” I laughed. It’s funny how some people think that changing the accent will make people who don’t speak English understand what they are saying. The girl in front of me, who was trying to do her order sighed, probably angry with the situation so I tried to intervene.

“This is not what she ordered, her order was a Grande Iced Caramel Macchiato, with Oatmilk and without Caramel drizzle. And a chocolate croissant. You put extra drizzle and added Cinnamon powder, and I’m sure this is an almond croissant” “Right, sorry for the inconvenience. I’ll fix it right up.” The waitress went back to the machines making another drink for the girl. 

I looked at her and she had a shy smile on, looking back at me. “Thanks.” “It's nothing.” “It is, I’m thirty minutes here and she got my order wrong twice. I thought I would end up losing my flight.” “Now you can eat without a rush.” “Alexia!” 

The girl went and grabbed her order, but before she came back they called my name as well, so I went to grab mine. We got out of the store and started walking toward the gates. 

“Thanks again, Y/n?” “Yeah, that’s my name.” We started walking in the same direction, until I spoke. “Sorry, but I have to ask. What a girl like you who doesn't speak English is doing in a country that doesn’t speak spanish?” “Playing football. My team is here with me, but I wanted a drink and they were sleeping near the gate. So I came alone. You are not from Spain, right? Your Spanish is good, but there is a different accent.” “No, I’m English. But my mom is Spanish.” “Where are you going?” “I’m visiting my grandparents in Spain. My flight is at gate 7.” “Really? Mine too.” “Come on then.”

We kept talking for a while, waiting to board and then we found out we were also sitting next to each other on the plane. I found out we were both the same age, 15. I talked with her about my dream of becoming a sport physiotherapist and she talked about how she wanted to keep playing football and enter a professional team. A few hours later the plane landed so we got ready to say our goodbyes. 

“What are you doing tomorrow?” “Tomorrow is my grandpa birthday. So I’ll be at his house.” She frowned at that and started picking her bags. “But on Wednesday or Thursday, I’ll be free.” She smiled at that. “I’ll text you, we could meet up.” “I’ll be waiting. Bye Alex.” I hugged her and got out of the baggage claim, meeting my grandparents outside.

At night Alexia texted me talking about how she was tired and saying that it was my thought. We kept talking until late and we both ended up sleeping in the middle of the conversation. We agreed to meet again during the week. She was on a school break so she was free after her soccer practice.

“This place is incredible.” I said admiring the place. “Is it, isn’t it?” “How do you find out about it?” “My dad brought me here one day after a bad game. And since then it has become our favorite place.” “This must be nice. And he supports you with football?” “He does, my family is a basketball-playing family, but since I started playing football he goes to all the games he can and brings me to watch a lot of Barcelona games.” “This is awesome. And one day he’ll be going to Camp Nou to watch you play.” “That’s the dream. I just don’t know if it will happen.” “I know it will.” “You never watch me play, how can you be sure?” “Because you look like the kind of girl who fights for her dreams. So I’m sure you’ll get there.” “Thanks. And just so you know, so do you. And who knows maybe we can be there together.” “Calm down Alex. I still have a few years till that.” “But it is the dream.” “It’s the dream… But you’ll have to get way better at English, you know that right?” She laughed and slapped my arm. “I’m working on it. I’m pretty sure that the waitress was just mocking me, how can she not understand ‘no caramelo’ is simple.” “If you say so.” 

We spend the rest of the week hanging out with each other. She took me to one of her practices and we talked more about each other's families. I showed her my grandpa’s restaurant and it turned out she had already gone there once. And then I have to go back home.

“So, we can keep texting. And when you come to visit your grandparents we can meet up.” “Yeah, and if some day you decided to visit London, let me know.” “I will. Bye Y/n/n” “Bye Alex." We hugged a little longer than normal and said our goodbyes. 

We kept talking for a whole year, with promises to see each other again. But then life happened. Her athlete life became more complicated, I was studying hard to enter college. And my grandparents passed away, so I no longer went to visit Spain. So with time our texts become less and less frequent. Until one day it stopped. 

I follow my dreams. I became a sport physiotherapist, currently working at West Ham. She achieved her dreams. Everyone knows who Alexia Putellas is. What made it harder to forget her, to forget my first crush.

Alexia’s pov

“Come on Alexia, stand up. Just one more.” “If you say ‘one more’, one more time I will kill you.” I said, sending a look at Jenni. We were on our last exercise and Jenni was ‘motivating’ us. She got hurt during practice and wasn't participating in conditioning. “Fine, but you’ll have to stand up sometime. We agreed to hang out today and you’ll be the driver.” “Whatever.” I complained. “Come on, give her a break. Alexia never gets to enjoy the party, what if she decides she wants to hook up with some girl and not drive us home?” Pina said, offering me a hand and helping me stand up.

“That’s because she never hooks up.” Jenni answered, making Pina look confused. “What do you mean? Why?” “Don’t know, she must be waiting for the enchanted princess.” Jenni said, rolling her eyes. “Is that jealousy Jenni? Or envious because she didn’t want to date you?” Some of the girls mock Jenni, making her sneeze water at them.

“Okay, enough talking about my love life.” “Or the lack of it.” Jenny mock. “Really? I’m fine being the driver for tonight. Just let me know when to pick you up and I’ll be there.

I left the girls at the gym and went to the locker room. Don’t get me wrong, it is not that I don’t like hooking up or dating girls. I do. It’s just that any girl seems like the right one for me. I don’t know why. Okay, maybe I know. No one is her. I try not to compare girls with her, but it just happens and there is not much I can do. Who knew that a first crush could last so long. 

I went home and got changed. A few minutes later I received a text saying that we would have to go to the practice tomorrow, just so we could do some evaluation and so we could meet the new member of the technical committee. The girls then decided to meet at Pina’s house and party there, so we could be at least alive for tomorrow. 

I picked a few of the girls and we went to Pina’s house. Not much after they started to drink and the chaos began. This is what normal partying looks like with these girls. I danced a little, had fun, but there is only much you can do without getting drunk and having to be the responsible one for the night. 

“I’m seriously she is so hot. I don't know why she didn’t come sooner. I think it was about time that the old guy walked away.” Drunk Jenni spoke.  “Who are you talking about?” Irene asked. “The new physiotherapist. I got to meet her today after practice. She is HOT. It even made getting hurt worth it.” I rolled my eyes, Jenni is always trying to hook up with every woman she thinks is good looking.

“I bet 20 bucks, she will not be interested in you.” “Oh! I bet 30 that Jenni can’t make her agree on going on a date.” The girls started to make bets. “Hey! Where is the belief in me? Of course I can. I’m hot.” Jenni complained. “Right. Just like the last doctor that came in. What was her name again? Julia?” We all laughed. “Hey, she was married. But the physio doesn’t use a ring, so I have a chance. And I’ll earn all your money, prepare your wallets.”

The night ended and some of the girls decided to sleepover, I took some back home and when I finally arrived at my house, I crashed.

The next day I was the first one at the locker room, and one by one the girls started to arrive. Most of them complaining about the early hours or about the hangover. If not both. Coach soon arrived along with the rest of the technical committee. I don’t pay much attention to them. Until I heard them saying.

“Well, this is the new physiotherapist, Y/n Y/l/n. You all will have the chance to meet her later on, as she will be doing the evaluation on everyone this afternoon. So, you are all free to go eat something and please come back on your time on the schedule.

Coach dismissed us and started talking with Y/n. I couldn’t take my eyes out of her. We met again after all this time, and at this club, where we said we would be. She is taller and more beautiful than I remember. She looked back at me and smiled. She kept glancing back at me and trying to hear what Coach was telling her. I don’t know how much time I kept looking at her, but then Coach walked away and she started coming in my direction. But I was pulled back from my trance by Jenni’s voice.

“She is coming, pay attention to the magic happening. Maybe you can learn how…” But I interrupted her before she could make anything. “You will not even try to flirt with her.” “What? Ale, is just…” I look into her eyes. “I’m serious.” She backed off and I could feel everyone looking at me confused, but I didn’t care. Because when I look back I was looking at her eyes.

“Alex?”

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso x reader #woso imagine #uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine

[thebluestbluewords]

Friday means WIP day

Censored for tumblr-safe audiences, this is the current WIP section of my endless ot5 series. (There’s a nsft section directly before this, but the important part to know is that it’s a little Ben/Carlos ice cream date and they’re having a great time and no angsty plot-relevant conversations happened directly before this :) )

+

 “Do you want to try a bite?” Ben tries instead, holding out his ice cream. It’s pretty good. His pack only ever shares food with each other, but he gets to be a part of that now, because they’re his. And he’s theirs. And sometimes, when the stars and their schedules align, he gets to take one or more of them out on ice cream dates in town, because his people deserve to have nice things like ice cream and time spent in the sun, and Ben can help give that to them. 

Carlos takes Ben’s wrist to steady the cone. “You’re too kind.” he says drily, and takes a bite out of the side of it. Not a giant bite, like Mal would take when she feels like being annoying, but a normal-sized bite, appropriate to have when you’re sharing with a close friend. Because they’re in public, and they’re good friends, who are having new experiences together. 

The ice cream is pink, and there’s a little smear of it on Carlos’s lip as he lets go of Ben’s wrist and does something very important and attention-worthy with the ice cream in his mouth. Or maybe it’s not attention-worthy, and Ben just likes looking at his mouth. 

Either way. 

“Right. Uh, I give this flavor a ten out of ten.” Ben says, in the most normal possible way. “It’s really good. I think I’ll get it with the blueberry drizzle next time.” 

“Yeah? What flavor is it?” Carlos asks. His eyes are bright, like he’s teasing, and he knows that Ben’s distracted by the gorgeous curve of his mouth. Like he knows Ben won’t remember the answer. “If it’s so good, maybe I’ll try it next time.” 

“Strawberry…cheesecake?” Ben guesses. It’s strawberry something, and it really is good. If they were going directly back to school, he’d bring some home for Mal to try. 

“Shortcake?” 

Oops. “Right, that’s the one. It really is good. You can steal another bite if you want.” 

“Hmm,” Carlos makes a considering noise, and then takes a huge, crunching bite of his own cone instead. “Noted. Can we head on soon? I wanna get some of the stuff in the toy store for Jay.”  

“Sure. Am I funding this adventure?” 

Carlos blinks at him. “Do you want to help me cover Jay in silly string?” he asks finally, with the general tone of someone who is talking to a particularly stupid child. “If you’re too busy I can buy a can or two myself.” 

“With the size of cans these days, I think you’ll need at least four to cover him entirely,” Ben says thoughtfully. “Unless that’s not the goal, in which case I still think you should buy at least four cans, because then you can plant the extras in the girl’s room and try to divert any revenge onto them.”

Carlos grins, and it feels like Ben’s heart is going to burst. Like this is it, this is where he’s meant to be, and what he’s meant to be doing. “Unbelievable!” he crows, voice rising in a familiar teasing cadance.  “I cannot believe that the king of Auradon would stoop so low as to try and frame an innocent bystander for his crimes!” 

“The girls are hardly innocent,” Ben points out, but he’s laughing now, and it’s hard to get the words out. “And I hardly think it’s a crime to cover your roommate in silly string when he so clearly deserves it.” 

“That’s what you think!” Carlos crows, delighted and loud about it. “I’m hearing direct support from the kingdom of Auradon here!” 

Ben swallows back his laughter. “Am I wrong?” 

“Silly string is a crime worthy of a thousand prank-backs.” Carlos says seriously. “If  you’re funding this, we’re getting enough for everyone, and it’s a war we’re starting.”

There’s a right answer here, and it’s obviously the one that’s going to end with silly string all over their rooms. 

“Sure, I’ll start a war for you,” Ben says, like that’s a normal thing for him to say to anybody. It’s probably not something he should be saying so lightly, especially not in public, but it’s also true. He would start a war for any of them. He’s not exactly a perfect judge when it comes to the isle kids, but in his biased opinion, if there is anyone in the world who deserves to have people who are so devoted that they would start a war, it’s his family. “But I want no credit for whatever nonsense happens after we plant the extra cans around the school.” 

Carlos grins up at him, close and warm and slightly sticky. “Does this make me Helen of Troy?” 

“I don’t think I’m much of a Menelaus.” 

“You can be Paris. Mal can be Menelaus, and you can steal me away from her and launch the war of a lifetime.” 

“And the silly string….” Ben says, grinning back. “That’s just a casualty of the war?” 

“Exactly. And you’re funding it, so let’s go before they sell out of purple.” 

#my fic #descendants #descendants fic #benlos #ship of my heart #I came out of the first movie desperately wanting these two very cute boys to care about each other and I will be the trash I want to see

[choicesmc]

Questions to save you from boredom, friend: Does your MC likes sweets, candy and dessert? If yes, what kind of?? Maybe an ice cream date with the LI? 😉😌 Or even cake?? 😍

thank you thank you

Fiona -> switches from day to day. Some days he loves sugar and sweets then the next day the most sugar he can handle is dark chocolate. Regardless, he would never mind an ice cream date with Gabe 💖

Rin -> Yes. Sugar is tasty. She doesn't look like it nor will she admit it but lollipops, suckers, jawbreakers are her bread and butter. She keeps some on her. Rin doesn't have an LI.

Rams -> Xe is very much a milk chocolate/white chocolate person. Especially drizzled on something else like pancakes or in s'more form. Xe'd be over the moon to have an icecream date with Shreya and Griffin but honestly would prefer a s'more date (doesn't have to include camping. It could just be at home over gas stove or something.)

Jiahao -> Her tastes lean more sour than sweet. He doesn't mind sugar but just not his cup of tea. Ice cream dates would depend on the weather probably? Like she wouldn't eat ice cream in the smack dab of winter but mid-summer or late spring? Sure! He doesn't have an LI either, at least now. Not sure yet...

#asks answered #jet #rin #rams erndheart #fiona lightwood #thanks for stopping by!!

[samsvenn]

𝐀 𝐃𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐨𝐧 ║ 𝐋𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐮𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐮

warning! extremely suggestive themes, mentions of violence, submissive laito and subaru, reader is not a saint

Reader is a Pathovoratus, a mythical species that lives by consuming the heartbreak of others, and managed to break the Sakamaki Brothers' hearts. Reader managed to save enough money to escape and become the new co-owner of a small café outside the countryside’s outskirts. Three months passed and life was going well - until two heartbroken parasites paid a visit. (more info at the end) wc: 2.3k

The way the countryside reflected its glistening happy hues through the window was a sight for sore eyes - if you hadn’t grown accustomed to them by now. Waves of endless grass blades dancing with the wind as its partner, stray old cats loitering like they own the place, roasted coffee beans being your reliable penniless aroma, this was good. This was where you belonged. 

But, if the café was near a cemetery, things could’ve been perfect. However, greed has a habit of suffocating those who weren’t grateful, and experiencing that chokehold again isn’t for the best. 

Five customers, each showing their age difference, showed up at the café today. Most regulars here were old enough to drive, leaving you to tend to their mature taste. Your current customer was a woman who appeared to be in her late sixties; gray hair proudly streaking at the roots and all. Cleaning your portafilter and grinding up the roasted beans to a fine, almost powdery texture, the coffee machine starts to extract the auburn liquid into an espresso glass.  

She hands the bill on a wooden Japanese pay slab before bidding an expressionless goodbye. You recline back on the stiff wooden stool and let your thoughts wander. ‘I should read the news tonight-’, ‘Maybe I can whip up a macchiato after this shift ends-’, ‘Do I have enough money to buy mochi at 7/11-?’

You get to work cleaning the appliances and wiping away dripping milk froth. You duck and grab a spray bottle behind the counter, but the door swings open, and wooden chimes sing their tune - a customer has walked in. 

“I’ll be with yo- Ow!” You caress the back of your head to get some sense of relief but it never came. “...Sorry, just forget that. Now, what would you lik-” 

The whole world froze when you saw who you were serving. 

“Hmm… Perhaps an explanation with a side of a medium-cup vanilla cappuccino. Add two extra pumps, please. I hate bitter things. You of all people should know what I like, no?” That irritating sing-song voice only had one owner. He perched himself with his chair positioned directly in front of the counter.

“Ne, Subaru. Big Brother Laito’s gonna pay for you so be grateful and order anything you want.”

Subaru, who’s been hiding his face by looking at the cafe’s window stills, hesitantly walks up to the counter and sat himself down. “...Iced almond latte with caramel drizzled at the sides and rim. And… make it a large.”

Their eyes burn into yours. Even though they were half-brothers, these rare moments truly felt like they were related. Moreso united as one.

“One medium vanilla cappuccino with two extra pumps and one large iced almond latte with caramel drizzle coming right up.”

. . . . . . . . ◟੭

“You are truly one of a kind,” Laito says while you prepare your measuring spoons. Subaru’s been quiet and Laito was the first one to break the ice.

“How could you? Was it fun? Us being your little toys? No- No…” Laito pauses and whips his head away from you before returning. “Did you enjoy the attention while it lasted? Shu screaming his lungs out, Reiji crying and promising you that he’ll be better and ‘perfect’, was it fun watching us torment ourselves for you?”

The short answer: Yes, it was. 

“-Say something.” Subaru bangs his hard-knuckled fist on the smooth counter and joins in with Laito. 

“You two came here looking for answers. It’s been three months and you’re still hung up on that day.” The coffee machine finishes grinding up Laito’s beans and the milk frother is ready. You take out a white mug and fill it with the heated milk before taking a syrup bottle and adding splashes of vanilla to the cup. 

“Not even a damn sorry?!” Subaru reaches for your collar and ends up holding you by your neck in the air. Laito’s not even looking this way anymore. He’s keeping his sharp green eyes on the beans being extracted. 

Your head felt like it was gonna combust. “Y-You… killing m-me… just p-proves you still c-care…” Eight words. Only eight words were what you could manage. 

“...!” The light in his eyes changed. His hands start trembling. Eventually, they gave up and you were back to finishing up Laito’s drink. 

“One medium vanilla cappuccino with two pumps ready to serve.” You hand Laito his mug and his hands graze yours. It turns from a short, accidental touch to full-on handholding. You look up and stop ignoring his gaze, but Laito doesn’t dare look back. 

“...I still need to make Subaru’s drink-”

“-I know.”

Laito’s grip won’t loosen no matter what and wriggling yourself out doesn’t work. 

“Laito, let go.”

“...” No response emitted from Laito. Not a smile, not a frown, his face is glued towards Subaru and his bangs hide any bits of expression. 

“Subaru, your drink’s gonna be postponed. That okay with you?” Talking with Laito proved to be useless. This man’s hands weren’t holding yours in a painful death grip, but soft caressing and your wrist being locked together aren’t ideal too. 

“...Y-Yeah.”

The clock ticks down until it reaches the fifteen-minute mark. Subaru joined in but contrary to Laito, he took your hand and began to caress himself with it. Starting from his puffy cheeks, then letting you trace along the curvature of his face, before indulging more and kissing your fingertips until his lips were bright red. 

“Mmhm…” Subaru slowly opened his mouth and shakily lets his tongue suck away the vanilla drops that spilled on your hands when he grabbed you. 

An idea reared its ugly head, waving a big flashing, red billboard in your mind.

You thought to yourself, ‘What if…’ 

Subaru’s taken aback when you start moving your hand. Why? Probably because he didn’t expect you to pat his head the way he loved so much before gently prying his mouth open. There, you tell him one command: “Suck.”

Whether he was desperate for your love or attention, the line was blurry. Subaru’s tongue snaked and swirled itself around your fingers, not even noticing the obscene sounds he was making. His mouth felt warm despite his cold skin. 

“Nngh..!” His beautifully dilated red eyes look back at you, pleading with a question he loves asking ever since your days at the manor: “Am I doing okay? Does it feel good?” He was never good at expressing his words. Oh, if only eyes could speak. 

“How could I ever be unsatisfied with you, Subaru?” For the first time since their arrival here, you let out a content smile. This seems to rile up Subaru, causing him to choke when he tries to push your hand deeper into the back of his mouth. 

Subaru lets your hands go before gripping onto the counter’s edge for dear life. “Ack-! Fuck I-” His eyes immediately dart at yours and his jaw clenches. He’s waiting for it - your disappointment. 

“I-I’m sorry- I didn’t know- Listen-” You could almost hear your heart break when he tried to save himself the embarrassment. Almost.

“-It’s okay, Subaru. You’re not the one letting people suck your fingers till they choke after all.” You rub circles on his soft bed of hair and don’t miss the way he leans to the touch. Poor guy, you’ve been depriving him due to your hard-earned absence.

“Y-Yeah, what you said.”

“Waahh… What’s this? Little Brother privileges?” You two turn towards Laito, who’s been having the time of his life drinking his mug. Yet even after all that, your left hand is still held convict. “My, my. This isn’t what we agreed on, Subaru.”

“Fuck off. This was your idea and I came along for the ride.” Subaru grumbled through his teeth. 

“It’s my older brother privilege to have first dibs.”

“Not my fault you’re too slow.”

“Hold on, ‘agreed on’?” Interrupting their verbal quarrel, you repeat Laito’s words and it hangs like a dark cloud. 

Laito’s eyebrows raise sarcastically, taunting you for being clueless as you were. “You really think we’re here just to chat about how life’s been?”

Laito pays for his cup and guides his hand to the wooden pay slab. You look back at Subaru, who’s waiting for Laito’s cue to whatever they’re alluding to. 

“Nfufu~ I admit it was a dumb idea to come here, to see you especially. But, the heart wants what it wants.” Something tells you that getting that macchiato was going to be near impossible with the pace of things. 

“Did you think that after we found you, we’ll simply walk away and act as if nothing happened?” Laito’s sultry voice cracks at the end. It hurts him to say it -  ‘Act as if nothing happened’ because that’s exactly what you did. There’s not a single shred of regret in your voice when you greeted them as if they were total strangers. And the worst part is that he knows. 

Laito knows.

“And you think I’ll leave here willingly because..?” You say as you prepare the milk frother and place Subaru’s mug under the coffee machine’s extractor. 

His voice deepens and all remaining playful cheekiness evaporated within Laito’s body. “I’ll brutalize your body until Kanato can't even salvage you. If I don’t, Subaru will. If he doesn’t, Ayato will. One flick of a finger and a familiar’s sent the word that you’re living out here.”

“...See, that’s the thing. No doubt, I believe you’ll rat out this place.” You drizzle the sides and ridge of the mug with caramel syrup. Carefully adding small cubes of ice, you add the cold almond milk and begin to slowly pour the extracted coffee at the top. “But I don’t believe you’ll kill me. At least for now.”

“You’ll hold onto that belief? That false hope? You’ve become utterly pathetic and that's coming from a guy like me~” Laito’s biting words were right. Clinging to such fallible reasoning would only kill you, and rot you from the inside out until decay spreads.

But it was okay. 

It was fine. 

Because deep down, you felt it.

Although their love for you dwindled compared to the size it once was, one thing was certain and sound: it was a minuscule amount, but it wasn’t completely gone. 

You gave Subaru his mug and the air stilled in silence. An answer, they need an answer. A concrete one. One that promises you’ll be with them. Subaru fidgets his thumbs under the counter so that you won’t see what he’s been reduced to. Laito, on the other hand, can’t stop tapping his heel in preparation for what your answer is. It’s cute that your disappearance is the result of all these accumulating anxious fidgetings. Similar to them, there’s no guarantee that you’ll stay once more. There’s no guarantee that you can love them the way you did before. The more the facts add, the brothers had more to lose than you did. 

It was a sickeningly delicious thought. 

“Do you… have your a-answer?” Subaru gulps deep. 

His swollen, dark eyes start tearing up. If your answer remotely resembles a ‘no’, things can get very ugly, exceedingly quickly. You know what your answer is; much to your dismay.

“Freedom was nice while it lasted.” A big, defeated sign leaves you and waves the white flag. Laito and Subaru look at each other with an unreadable expression. Both brothers somehow understood. Perhaps it was a sibling thing. Never in a million years would it come to you that any one of the Sakamaki could do something familial. 

But you were proven wrong.

Laito and Subaru simultaneously stood up. You could’ve sworn they’d jump up and start pumping their fists in the air from the way their stupid grins glued widened their dimples awake.

“Take a snack. Or two. It’s gonna be a long drive back.” Subaru points at the café’s menu. 

If Subaru was sneaking glances at you- Scratch that. Since he was, he would’ve mistaken your expression for thinking how many snacks you need for the drive. Be that as it may, assumptions are quite deceiving. “I will.”

You were hungry. Subaru wasn’t wrong about that. Whereas the idea is just a little off the mark. Food couldn’t supply you with the nutrition and vitamins needed for your survival. 

The smell of trust makes you salivate when people are so readily available to put it up on a silver platter. 

And soon, you were going to feast. 

『••✎••』

Writer’s note and explanation:

made this out of spite bc DiaBoys need to suffer more and I was playing this game called "Here For Sweethearts" and there was a very big twist at the end. MAJOR SPOILER ALERT: 

The twist was that the MC is a Pathospire who lives by absorbing the heartbreak/suffering of others. Simply put, Pathospires are a rare species that are vampires that drain emotions. But, they aren't really 'vampires', more so a symbiote/parasite. To live, they must absorb the negative energy of heartbreak/suffering, or else they’ll starve themselves to death. The creator of the game has expressed that they don’t want the concept of Pathospires to be stolen or completely copied, which is why I’m making major changes to the idea and of course, the name. And to confirm, the DiaBoys aren't aware of the Reader being a Pathovoratus except for Karl bc duh it's Karlheinz

I’ve changed the name from Pathospire to Pathovoratus; Patho which is greek for ‘suffering’ and ‘voratus’ which is latin for devour. I don’t know if I’ll make this an au, but there’s a good possibility it might be because I’m all for angst and hurt. I’m also a very big fan of the game so there’s lots of self-indulgence going on :)

Update: Will make a full post about the Pathovoratus Au in the future! But the main idea is that in order to live, they have to cause heartbreak so that they can absorb that negative energy, which is their food and life source

#subaru sakamaki #laito sakamaki #diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers fandom #sakamaki brothers #fanfic #dl #pathovoratus au

[dontfeeltoohot]

Barista Steve being a photic sneezer and sneezing maybe once or twice a day? On a bad allergy day, it hits him a little harder and it just so happens to be a day that Eddie stays in and does some work?

Here is part 3 of this oddly specific au! Both Steve and Eddie have the knk, Eddie has a youtube he puts wavs on. His tumblr (if you want to come fangirl with him about Steve finally sneezing, is @thebanishedd ) Enjoy! It's pretty small because I'm still loaded up on meds from surgery but I wanted to get a tiny little bit of Stevie out.

XXX

“Alright Stevie, hit me with something I’ve never had,” Eddie says with a smirk, directing it at the man in front of him. 

It’s a new game of sorts, one that has Steve making ridiculous coffee creations for Eddie to try. They’ve known each other for 3 weeks and yet to the guitarist; as cliche as it sounds, he feels like they’ve known each other forever. Except, of course, there are still things he’s learning about Steve Harrington. 

Yesterday he’d learned that Steve was a jock in high school, and that he was a pretty good one at that. There’s still a photo of him apparently sitting in a trophy case somewhere in Hawkins High. He’d also learned from Robin that Steve was a huge asshole before he’d been given a reality check. 

“Caramel or mocha?” The brown eyed man behind the counter asks, making Eddie smile. 

He wants to lean across the wood and press a kiss to his lips, but he thinks that may be a bit much, especially since he’s pretty sure Steve only likes girls. At least that’s the only gender he’s heard Steve or Robin mention. Another hot guy that turns out to be heterosexual. No surprises there. 

“Mm, surprise me. I like anything,” the musician decides, swiping hair away from his face. 

Waiting off to the side so Robin can take the woman behind him, Eddie watches Steve work. It’s always fascinating, paying attention to how well Steve does everything, like he’s done it a million times. As he drizzles some kind of syrup along the sides of the cup with a precisioned ease, the older man watches. Steve pauses as the sun catches his face, sunlight bouncing off of his freckles, eyes a beautiful brown. They flutter shut and his lips part 

“eHEISHH! Ih-ehhKSHhh!” 

Steve turns away just in time, pressing his arm to his face at the last second, aimed down at the ground. Eddie feels frozen, warmth settling below his belt, fingers twitching. The sound echoes in his head as he licks his lips. It’s harsh but not too loud, wet without being necessarily messy. 

“B-Bless you,” he forces out, and Steve laughs bashfully, waving it away. 

“Thanks.” 

“Does that always happen?” The words fall out his mouth before he can stop them. Jesus. Fucking. Christ. 

“What do you mean?” The other man, who’s pouring ice into his cup, looks at him curiously. 

“The sunlight thing. It happens to me sometimes, is all. Triggers a sneeze, or whatever.” 

Eddie feels like he’s in a nightmare. He can’t get himself to shut the fuck up, and Steve is watching him, and Jesus it’s hot. 

“Oh, uh, yeah, it usually happens,” Steve shrugs, and the long haired man wishes the floor could swallow him whole. 

Who the fuck asks that? Real smooth Munson. He looks away when Steve pours the coffee, unable to keep looking. At the attractive coffee shop owner. 

Steve hands him his drink and Eddie beams, allowing himself to relax. It’s only after he’s said his goodbyes to both managers and is out on the street he sees a phone number written on his cup. Heart in both his throat and pants, Eddie practically skips back to his apartment, excited to tell Chrissy; and tumblr, about the new development. 

#my fic #ytau #em #sh #st

[aajjks]

i am so sorry y’all. it’s long. like LONG LONG 🙈

TPOL!JK

the conversation you both have starts off slow. you aren’t too excited to be here, honestly because despite him asking if you’re okay and other endeavors, you’re waiting on an apology. you came here for an apology and an honest apology where he admits that he shouldn’t have talked to you like that and should’ve been supportive.

you still converse back because you aren’t THAT mean but you feel entitled to an apology. it’s the only way you’ll dish one back because you don’t feel wrong about what you said and did. it was all for the benefit of your mother and turns out, it benefited well because you’re able to provide things her with essentials you couldn’t provide at one point.

granted, the conversations the two of you share aren’t boring in the slightest. jungkook talks to you about his business then you talk about your new job and some of your annoying coworkers. you both joke about your dogs and show each other pictures of your animal friends. bam is basically as tall as jungkook and mochi is still pretty small but you know he won’t stay that size forever.

when the two of you finish lunch, you both are off to the movie theater that he rented out just for you. yes, he rented an entire movie theater for one night to show your favorite movie tangled. there’s a table with your name on it and rose petals decorated all around the table. you both drink fancy wine and your eyes are glued to the television, blushing like an idiot.

what happens after that? AN AQUARIUM OF COURSE!! he takes you to the best aquarium in seoul and you feel like a little girl all over again with your father. he used to take you to aquariums all of the time and you almost cry when you stand in the tunnel watching the colorful fish swim around you. hesitantly, jungkook goes for you hand and you allow him to hold your hand, even threading your fingers together.

next, the two of you eat dinner at a fancy spot and on the way there, you sing loudly to the radio completely off key but jungkook is just happy you’re getting more comfortable around him. once the food is served, you both converse some more with one another and even laugh out loud together.

after that, yes there’s more, you both go to an arcade place jungkook used to go with his brother all of the time. it’s a very vulnerable place jungkook takes you to but the two of you have fun. you beat him BARELY and he beats you ALL OF THE TIME. you guys even take funny pictures in the photo booth and print them out for each of you to keep.

finally, the last stop, “The Sweet Spot” your favorite ice cream shop. you order your cookie and cream abomination and jungkook goes for chocolate ice cream stacked with all kinds of sweet treats which is shocking to you because he always settles for a chocolate milkshake yet here he is eating his yummy chocolate delight covered in chocolate drizzle.

it’s late. VERY late and you’re reluctant to go back to your hotel room after such a great night. you want to bring ‘it’ up cause it’s the only way for you to forgive and so you shoot for it:

“jungkook? did you…did you really mean what you said before i left? you know? how your father was right and my…my abortion? did you mean that? and be honest. i want your complete honesty about it”

You’re still both sitting in the ice cream parlor when you bring it up, and his smile falter is a little because he really thought that this was going really smoothly.

But you do deserve an answer and an apology.

Jungkook looks at you with guilt filled eyes, “I don’t even really remember what I said because I was too angry… but of course I didn’t mean it because the regret I felt right after you left…. it was too much.”He sighs,

It pains him so much when he sees you’re still hurt and maybe you remember every single word he said, he doesn’t really remember anything because he drank too much that night after you left.

“but I didn’t mean anything I said, especially not the father thing.. yn…” he grabs your hand, and he looks at you, with desperation jumping in his orbs.

“you know what you should’ve done when I said those words to you? You should’ve slapped me hard. You should’ve slapped me multiple times.” Jungkook looks down while squeezing your hand because he manages to hurt your feelings every single time. You guys have an argument.

And why does he even expect that you would get back together with him after this? “but for whatever I said, I have to apologize…. Whatever you did you did it because of me… and maybe I was too desperate get you to stay that’s why I said that hoping maybe you would get angry and then slap me but you would stay but you didn’t.”

“I-I’m sorry yn.” He reluctantly leaves your hand.

“thank you for giving me your time today and I understand if you don’t ever want to see me again I won’t bother you… just let me take you home.”

#ask: tpol!jungkook