#i just wanna be the box of glitter that sits on my table looking pretty 🤧😓

[shadowlali]

hey lali,uhm, i'm having a mental-breakdown lately & i just wanna ask if u can make my request work, since i love ur writing sm (plzzzz) well, Alejandro x f!reader is "the other woman" but she got pregnant and decided not telling Ale but he finds out. I hope u can make it a happy ending, so somehow can eased my pain now.

hope this reach u, <3

the rest of my life

COD - Alejandro Vargas x fem!reader

[18+] wc: 4.7k masterlist

warnings: NSFW (no descriptive sex scenes), some proofreading, no use of Y/N nor too many details on reader’s appearance, allusions to sex, infidelity (Alejandro is married to another woman), pet names, pregnancy, mentions of pregnancy symptoms, HEA a/n: hi nonnie, thank you for being patient, i'm sorry this took so long. i had horrible writer's block but i seem to be on the other side of that. i hope all is good with you, and i hope the pain you're feeling has eased, even if just a bit 🤍 i did the best that i could with this, hope you enjoy! 🧚🏼‍♀️✨🫧

A damn smoothie. It was the fucking strawberry-banana smoothie that you’d been craving all week that brought you to this small café. Hidden behind the large potted plant in the entryway, you watch as a woman places a hand on Alejandro’s chest. They sit at a small table in deep conversation, the diamond on her ring finger glittering in the natural sunlight that shines through the windows. He grabs her hand, a matching wedding band placed on his ring finger. 

You lie to yourself for a few moments, maybe it's not him, maybe it's not him, maybe it's not him. But no one else in the godforsaken town has the same broad shoulders and black curls like him. She looks up at him with wide eyes, tears brimming the waterline.  

Nausea and white hot betrayal coil in your stomach. He’d been in your bed just four weeks ago. Wrapped in your sheets, in each other's arms, too crazy with lust to leave each other’s company. He stayed with you until he dragged you to his ranch where he showed you his room, the large shower, and the kitchen counter that was the perfect height for your hips. 

- 

Four weeks ago: 

In a cliche-like fashion, you’d bumped into him while walking out of the grocery store. You were new in town, busy with organizing your new house and running errands around Las Almas. You were a little flustered, the man you had accidentally collided with was tall and way too handsome for his own good. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you!” 

“No te preocupes. I can’t complain when a pretty girl bumps into me,” he said with a grin. “How about dinner to make it up to me? My treat, of course.” [Don’t worry]

Wow, straight to the point, you thought, what the hell, sure. You exchanged names and contact info before heading back home to get ready. It really was supposed to be just dinner. But the conversation flowed naturally and the two of you sat so close to each other, close enough that he was constantly gliding warm fingers over your arm or hand. 

Alejandro walked you home because as the Coronel of Las Almas, I need to make sure you make it home safe, he said. It was you who tilted your head slightly to the side and pressed your lips to his, sliding your hands over the hard muscles of his chest. It was him who pressed you gently to the front door and deepened the kiss, taking the keys out of your hand and unlocking the door without ever breaking the kiss. 

There were still boxes in the living room and kitchen, which you two slightly tripped over, but fortunately the bedroom was furnished. He was gentle when he kissed you, cupping your jaw in his hands and lightly stroking his thumb over your cheek. Alejandro’s fingers traveled down to your hips where he pulled you in close, the softness of your belly meeting the stiff bulge of his erection. 

Warm hands and a scratchy beard woke you from deep sleep the next morning. After making you come with his mouth and then his cock again, Alejandro went out to bring back breakfast. Seeing as your house was still unpacked and in disarray, you sat on the dining room floor in a nest of pillows and blankets he grabbed from the couch. 

“Leave it, Alejandro. It’s fine–” you stressed as you tried to stop him from unpacking some of your boxes.

“Princesa,” he emphasized, “I want to help. Please.” [Princess]

Who were you to say no to a little help around the house? Not when he was calling you sweet names like princesa and telling you con cuidado, mami, no te caigas when you were balancing on the counter to put plates away. In just a few short hours Alejandro and you managed to organize the house. You weren’t sure how common it was for a one night stand to help someone settle in, but that’s exactly what Alejandro did. [Be careful, mami, don’t fall]

He left that afternoon with a promise to be back the next morning to take you on a personal tour around town. Alejandro arrived at your doorstep the next day with a plant, a welcome to the town present, he said, walking into your house and placing it by your kitchen window where it could get sun. You visited the Vaqueros' base and even got to ride in one of their giant jeeps. He took you to the town’s lake and taught you how to properly skip rocks after gently teasing your effort. 

Alejandro spent another night in your bed, convincing you the next morning to come back with him to his ranch. He encouraged you to pack an overnight bag because his ranch es tan hermoso that you’ll want to stay. It really was beautiful. An hacienda-style home, straight out of a painting. His sheep were soft and so cute you wanted to steal one. The horses, so gentle, were his pride and joy.  [so beautiful]

Two days spent at his place until you had to practically beg him to take you home. I need to get ready for my new job, you half-pleaded, half-laughed, you can bring me back here another time, Alejandro. With a sweet kiss to your mouth and a tight hug, Alejandro dropped you off at your front porch, reminding you to text him a rundown of your first day at work. 

He texted a Buenos días, princesa. Buena suerte, in the morning. Alejandro didn’t respond to your texts once you got home. You didn’t dwell on it too much, you two had spent so many days together and he most likely had to catch up on work back at base. More days passed and the pit of embarrassment only grew in your stomach. While out at a bar with your new coworkers, you could only focus on Alejandro’s silence. [Goodmorning. Good luck]

Over the course of the next two weeks, you had to stop yourself from texting or calling him. Too good to be true you thought, how can I be so naive? You were so busy with work, new friends and with adjusting to a new town, that you failed to realize your missed period. It wasn’t until another week that you noticed. Must be the stress. 

But when you suddenly became nauseous to the scent of your favorite food, you knew there was something different. Five pregnancy tests later confirmed your suspicions. You were pregnant by a guy who had ghosted you. 

- 

But he’s married? Married? Has he been married all this time? Was he married when he held you close and said you were the most beautiful and sweetest girl he’d ever met? Was he married when he made love to you in his–their bed? 

Telling him about the pregnancy was something that you were still debating, but seeing him now, with the sunlight catching his and her wedding bands, you decide against it. The baby doesn’t need him, you have so much love to give to the little heartbeat growing in your belly. 

As if sensing your stare, Alejandro immediately turns away from his wife, making eye contact with you. You turn and walk out of the café, quickening your pace once you hear a shout of your name and the scrape of a chair. Nope, nope, nope, you think. Too bad, you were really looking forward to that smoothie.  

“Alejandro? Where are you go–” his wife calls out. 

Thinking fast, you walk into a small alleyway that leads onto the next street. A warm hand wraps around your upper arm and in the next moment, you’re spun around, directly facing Alejandro. His eyes are panicked and wide but just as he opens his mouth, you slip out of his grasp. 

“Don’t,” you warn, “don’t. Just go back to–to your–your wife.” 

“No, look–please, déjame explicarte–” [let me explain]

“How? Were you in a relationship when we met? Was I your last fling before getting married?” You let out a bitter laugh,” I mean, you couldn’t have been married when we met, there’s no tan on your ring finger!”

“It’s not what you think–,” he tries to explain. 

“Really, Alejandro? ‘It’s not what you think?’ That’s the line you’re going to use?” 

His eyes scan your face as he runs a hand through his hair. Alejandro’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion once he takes a good look at you, noticing the glow on your body.

You bring a hand up to cover your belly, still too early for a bump to be noticeable, but the anxiety hitting you anyways, then immediately put it down. Only someone perceptive enough would be able to tell the slight change in your body, and he’s very perceptive. 

“Are you–are you pregnant?” Alejandro asks, reaching out to grab your arm but dropping his hand once you flinch away. 

“I think this conversation is done,” you snap,” and I think it’s best if we never speak again.” 

“Alejandro?” A voice calls from the other end of the alleyway. 

You take your chance once Alejandro turns to look at his wife and speed walk to the other street. He calls out your name again but luckily doesn’t follow you. Tears stream down your face and you barely manage to make it home before you spill the contents of your stomach in the hallway bathroom. 

He’s married. A husband to someone else. Most likely already in a relationship when you two spent that week together. The nausea hits you again as guilt, shame, and so much embarrassment take over your body. You slept with a man who belonged to someone else. Sobs shake your form and with no energy left, you curl up into a ball on the cold floor. 

The last thing you ever wanted to be was the other woman. How could you help a man cheat on his wife? Of course you had no idea, but you still did it. The memory of visiting his ranch flashes in your mind; there was not a single trace of her in his home. There wasn’t another toothbrush on his counter or women’s clothes in the closet, only his personal belongings. 

It doesn’t matter. You need to make a plan to find and tell her. Tell her that four weeks ago you spent a week with him. The pregnancy news, you’re not sure you want to tell her just yet. With a new surge of energy, you sit up from the floor. Once your hands, face, and teeth are washed, and you’ve hydrated, you walk into the living room to find your laptop and do some investigative work. Before you can begin, the doorbell rings. 

“Princesa,” Alejandro calls from the other side, “it’s me. Please, please. I promise I can explain.” 

You let out a slow, quiet breath through your nose. Maybe if you ignore him, he’ll go away. 

“I won’t leave until you talk to me,” he pleads. “if you're pregnant–let me make this right–” 

Having heard enough of his voice through the door, you swing it open with the intention of sending him away. 

“No, Alejandro. The baby is not yours. Now, please leave. If you’re worried about me telling your wife about what happened, don’t worry. I won’t,” you lie easily. 

“She’s not my wife.” 

You scrunch your eyebrows in confusion, mirroring his own look from earlier. “What?” 

“Not in the traditional sense–” 

“Okay, this conversation is over–” 

“No,” he pleads, stopping the closing door with his hand, “just give me five minutes and I’ll explain. If after that you don’t believe me… you won’t see me again.” 

You take a few deep breaths, wondering if it’s a good idea to let him in. Deciding against your better judgment, you swing open the door. He has a nervous look on his face as he enters the doorway, his eyes flicking from yours down to the expanse of your body. 

His hair is a mess as if he’s been running his hands through it. You sit on the couch, scooting far away from him. He sits down, running a hand across his beard before speaking. 

“It’s not a real marriage,” he whispers, “we don’t–we don’t live with each other anymore.” 

“It looked real to me,” you respond, “both of you wear wedding rings and she looks at you like she loves you.” 

Alejandro lets out a bitter laugh, looking down at his hand to twist his ring. “She was pleading with me not to divorce her. I thought if we had the conversation in public and I wore the ring, it would prevent her from causing a scene.” 

He takes another deep breath then continues, ”We married years ago, back when I was naive and in love. Back when I wasn’t able to notice red flags.” 

Your heart pinches as you listen to him speak. 

“There were months at a time when I wasn’t home. And maybe it was my fault for leaving her alone for so long. Maybe it was my fault that she had to find comfort from someone else.” Alejandro closes his eyes and brings a hand up to massage his temple. “I came back after a mission and I found her in bed, our bed, with someone else.” 

“What did you do?” you whisper. 

“I told her I was leaving for the night and I wanted her gone by morning. I–I had so much rage flowing inside of me, I was scared that I’d do something to him that I would regret.” 

“Did you know him?” 

“No, it was someone she met at a bar. By morning, I went back and she hadn’t packed her things. She begged me not to leave her. She promised she wouldn’t do it again, but I couldn’t forgive her. I called her parents, they came and got her things. Then I burned the bed.” 

There’s no resentment or anger in his voice. He looks uncomfortable, but it seems from having to relive that painful time in his life. 

“I had to leave again for another mission. By the time I came back, she begged me again, told me if we divorced I would ruin her reputation.” 

“You agreed to stay with her?” 

Alejandro nods, “Her parents, they’re kind people. They run a store in town, and the last thing I wanted was for the people to turn on them for what their daughter did. I told her we would stay married but we would never be a couple again. I haven’t thought about divorce since then.” He pauses for a moment, turning to look at you. “But then I met you. Mi princesa hermosa.” [My beautiful princess]

“Alejandro don’t, please–” 

“I’m sorry,” he interrupts,” I’m sorry for not being honest. It was selfish of me, but I don’t regret it.” 

You shake your head, not wanting to hear anymore of this. You might believe his side of the story, but you don’t know if you’ll believe whatever else he has to say.

“I was going to come back, to reach out again, but she appeared at my doorstep. She heard from a friend in town that I was seeing someone else. I didn’t deny it, but I also didn’t want her finding you and giving you a false narrative.” Alejandro lets out a sigh, shaking his head, ”difficult to believe me right?” 

You get up from the couch to pace around the living room. A sharp pounding has started behind your left eye and the nausea comes back in full force. He stands as well but keeps his distance. 

“I thought I loved her, but in the years we were together, I never felt a fraction of what I felt when I was with you. That week we spent together, princesa, I want that for the rest of my–”

“I won’t be the other woman, Alejandro.”

“That’s not what–”

“I don’t know if I believe your story but even if I did, how can you expect me to just be okay with everything? How am I supposed to believe that you truly, and I mean truly, feel something for me and it’s not just you trying to hurt your wife?” 

“I would never do that to you.” Alejandro declares, shaking his head and breathing hard.  

The unexpected run-in at the café and now this conversation have made you incredibly exhausted. You want nothing more than to crawl into bed and forget any of this happened. 

“What do you want me to say, Alejandro?” 

He places his hands on his hips and looks up to the ceiling, contemplating his next words. “I know you don’t believe me, and that you think you have to lie to me,” he says while motioning to your belly, “so there’s only one thing I can do.” 

Alejandro takes one last look at you and turns towards the door. You stand there confused as you watch the front door close and Alejandro leave. A small part of you wants to trust his story, but getting caught in the middle of a broken marriage while you juggle pregnancy and your career is the worst idea ever. 

Thankful that it’s the weekend, you spend the rest of your Saturday in bed. You remind yourself that no matter what occurred today, you have far more important things to worry about. You can acknowledge that seeing Alejandro again made your heart soar (just a little) and made you crave his touch again, but come Monday you’ll put this all behind you. 

Except that doesn’t happen. Walking up the pathway to your house after work on Monday, you spot a delivery van and boxes on your front porch from the local baby shop. Two men in pale yellow shirts and khaki pants stand by your door, one with a clipboard in his hand. 

“Coronel Vargas put in an order for these items, you just have to sign here,” he motions to the form on the clipboard. 

You look around at the boxes, noticing some are furniture, blankets, mattress pads, diapers, baby monitors; almost everything you need for the nursery. 

“He also wanted us to tell you not to assemble anything just yet. We’ll have someone come out when it’s most convenient for you so we can set everything up,” the other tells you as you sign. 

“Uh–right, okay, thank you,” you manage to respond through your obvious shock. 

You open the front door and lead them to the empty room next to your bedroom. In just a few short minutes they bring everything inside and leave. You contemplate denying the gifts from Alejandro… but it's all of the high quality items you’ve been eyeing at the shop and even if you don’t want to confirm his suspicions, this is his child too. 

The gifts don’t stop. Over the next few days, you get groceries randomly delivered, more nursery items and a check in the mail for a sum of money. Let me know if you need more - Alejandro, the note in the envelope states. You deposit the check into your bank account without a second thought. Your work is soon filled with the snacks that you like after a generous gift from Los Vaqueros, your boss informs you. 

You don’t see Alejandro for a while, but you feel him everywhere. And it makes you feel… well, weird. Confused? He sends you text messages that you leave on read. You’d changed his name after he ghosted you, so it’s quite a funny surprise as you read the text messages. 

Pendejo: Good morning, princesa. How did you sleep? [Dumbass]

8:00 AM

Pendejo: Good evening, princesa. Did you like the flowers I sent? I’m sending another check in the mail. 

7:53 PM 

A full month goes by with more deliveries and text messages. It’s not until Alejandro shows up at your house again that you realize why he stayed away again. 

“It’s signed and done,” he says the moment you open the door, “we’ve officially divorced.” 

Your eyebrows raise in surprise while you read the decree that does in fact state Alejandro is now a divorced man. 

“I’ve never wanted to belong to someone as much as I do now,” he whispers, “soy completamente tuyo.” [I’m completely yours] 

“Wow,” you reply, walking backwards to the couch while you continue to read the document. “I don’t know what to say. This is–how? Why?” 

Alejandro closes the front door and follows you to the couch. “I told her I fell in love. I told her what she and I had, was finished–had been finished for a long time,” he emphasizes, “and that we both needed to move on.” 

You hand the decree back and run a hand absentmindedly over your belly. “What about her parents?”

“I talked to them, I told them I wouldn’t tell others the real reason on why we separated, as long as they encouraged their daughter to sign the divorce papers. They were… sad to see our relationship officially end. But she signed it the next day.” 

“I wasn’t a game to you or–or just an excuse to leave your wife?” you ask with suspicion lacing your voice.

Alejandro quickly shakes his head and reaches for your hand. “No, no. Princesa, this is real. This is very real to me. I don’t see you as an escape from my past life. Since the moment I saw you, I knew it was–is different between us.” 

It was silly to put so much emotion and energy into a one-night, well, one-week, stand. But that week with Alejandro was like nothing you've experienced before. You were ready to put it all behind you. Yes, you accepted his gifts and money, but that was as far as you were willing to go. 

“I want to believe you, Alejandro,” you admit, “but I need time. I think we both need time. You need to fully understand and accept that you’ve divorced, and I need time to think about our future. We’re bringing a child into this world–” 

“The baby is mine?” Alejandro interrupts with clear excitement in his voice. 

“Yes,” you laugh, “the baby is yours. Let’s focus our attention on that first, okay? My hormones are crazy and my emotions are all over the place. It’s exhausting.” 

“Perdóname, I can’t imagine what it’s like. But I’m here now, and I promise I’ll care for you and the baby no matter what you decide in the future.” [Forgive me]

“We both deserve time, okay?” 

- 

“I’m fine, Alejandro. I like walking to work,” you plead, trying to wriggle out of his warm grasp. 

“I’d prefer to drive you so I know you’re safe,” he says, helping you step into his truck. 

Alejandro has been incredibly excited about your pregnancy journey. Months have passed since his divorce and your due date only gets closer and closer. Your belly has grown more round and you can even feel the little kicks from your son. 

There’s a picture of the ultrasound on his dashboard which makes you smile. On the short drive to work, you wonder if the baby will look like Alejandro or you. He parks in front of the office and jumps down to help you step out of the truck. 

“I’ll be back later,” he says, his voice gentle when speaking to you. 

You walk into the office and set your things down. Alejandro has been respectful to the situation. He hasn’t tried to overstep and has instead focused on reading everything he can about fatherhood. He takes you to the doctor and always makes sure your house is stocked with anything you might need. 

It didn’t take long for the town to find out Alejandro had divorced and he was now seeing a new woman, someone obviously pregnant. Alejandro was quick to dispel any rumors, telling anyone who asked that he and his ex-wife had been separated for a long while before you came into the picture. 

As you answer emails, you think about how easy it was to fall in love with him. You haven’t told him, but he tells you quite often. I'm so lucky to have found someone like you, you make me feel so calm, i'm so happy you’re the mother of my child, te amo, te amo. And while you want to be wary, want to make sure that his words are true, you believe him. [I love you]

He takes such good care of you. Not just financially, but emotionally as well. Alejandro lets you cry and vent when your emotions become a little too much over silly things like not being able to eat sushi or seeing a cute frog on the grass after a rainy day. He massages your back when you’re exhausted and cooks for you most nights. 

“Don’t you have to be at work? I can’t imagine the military being a 9 to 5?” 

“No,” he says, serving you a bowl of soup, “I’ve put my time in. I deserve to have time off to take care of you.” 

A text notification shakes you out of the memory. Alejandro has just deposited another sum of money into your bank account. It’s not like you need it, your job pays well for you to live and raise a child on your own. But Alejandro gives, not just for the baby, but for you to live comfortably as well. It’s in his nature to give to the people he cares about. 

“I don’t need anymore money, Alejandro,” you said, overwhelmed with how much he’d given you in such a short time. “Just help me with stuff for the baby.” 

“What’s the point of working for so many years if I can’t spend it on the mother of my child?” 

You know, can tell from the way his eyes linger on you and how he touches you gently, that he wants to try to have a real relationship with you. And if these past months have shown you anything, it’s that you can trust him. 

When you walk out of the office hours later, Alejandro is already waiting for you.

“How was work?” 

“Good, great, actually. I got a lot done,” you say as he helps you into his truck.

He helps you down once at your house but you stop him before he’s able to unlock the door. 

“Alejandro?” 

“Yeah, princesa?” 

You look into his eyes, big and brown, way too handsome for his own good. His hair has grown out a little, black curls reaching around his ears. You’re in love, so in love with him. 

“I love you.” 

He stares at you and you see the exact moment your words register in his brain. His pupils widen and he steps closer to you, sliding a hand from your belly to your lower back, pulling you in. You tilt your head to the side and press your lips to his. 

Soft and sweet, just how you remembered. You don’t know how long the two of you stand outside on the porch, but eventually he leads you inside. He’s careful when laying you down on the bed, asking is this okay? Can I touch you here? Alejandro is slow, gentle, cumming only after you’ve finished at least twice. Once you’ve been fed and you’ve both had a warm shower, he tucks you into bed, warming your back with his body heat. 

It does take a lot of convincing from Alejandro for you to move in with him. You like your little home, but you also think about how much fun your child will have with the animals and the open countryside at Alejandro's ranch. He manages to babyproof his entire home right before the baby is born. 

“He looks just like you,” you whisper, holding your baby close while he sleeps. 

Alejandro hums in agreement, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. “Did I ever tell you how much I love you?” 

“No, this is the first I hear about it,” you tease him.

He laughs quietly, cupping your chin and turning you to face him. “Te amo. Te amo,” he repeats. “Thank you for being the mother to my child."

You smile and press your lips to his, basking in the tranquility of your little family and new life.

Alejandro drags his finger over the brand new diamond ring on your finger before continuing. "And the best wife I could ever ask for.” 

-

Title inspired by the song "Por el Resto de Tu Vida" by Christian Nodal featuring TINI:

#alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas x female reader #alejandro vargas smut #cod x reader #cod mw2 x female reader #alejandro vargas #cod mw2 smut #shadowlali

[pixie-bby-airia]

In Her Own World

Summary ~ Eddie has fallen for a ditzy ray of sunshine.

Warnings ~ none

She was away with the fairies.

That’s why Eddie found her so cool.

She always wore pretty skirts with pretty patterns - she was like a fairy herself in that way, always dressed so pretty. So damn pretty that there was no way in hell he was ever going to have a chance with a pretty girl like her.

He watches her from the canteen from time to time. She’s always giggling along with something her friends are saying - god her smile was utterly gorgeous. And sometimes - if he managed to catch her attention for just a second, she watches him - he feels her eyes on him for a moment and before he knows it she’s smiling at him - laughing with him.

That’s the thing that completely kidnapped his attention towards her. She never laughed at him - pitied him - made him feel like a freak. She was just nice - a nice girl.

He remembers the first time she’d caught his attention. She wasn’t wearing her usual cheer uniform, she was sat outside in the woods behind the school, magazine on the bench, sat down, painting her nails. He’d come to sit back and have a smoke before going home but she’d apparently beat him to it.

It was so unusual seeing her in the earthy but still colourful tones - a long skirt laying low on her hips and a top tied around her front - jewellery all over her neck, ears, arms and fingers. God she was a dream.

“You know Eddie you can come sit with me if you’d like” she didn’t even look up to confirm it was him. She seemed to have sensed it was him. “I’m sorry if I’m interrupting anything you usually do here - I normally have practise on Fridays but it was cancelled” she sighed a little disappointed.

“Don’t worry about it - just wasn’t expecting you” Eddie moved to come sit down in front of her - a little confused look on his face but a smile still on his features. He placed his lunch box on the table, it’s contents being a bag of pretzels and his stash. He didn’t miss the small box of cookies she had sat next to her nail polish. “To be honest I didn’t even think you knew my name” he scratched the back of his neck.

“Of course I know you Eddie - you always make me laugh at lunch” she paused for a second, taking a look at her nails - the last coat applied carefully. Her eyes meeting his. “Your lunch time speeches are the best” she smiled at him sweetly - “You wanna have a cookie? I’ve added some edible glitter to them to make them more magical looking” She slid the box over to Eddie.

That was a lot to take in. She found him funny? - he made her laugh? His speeches were the best?? Does he want a goddamn cookie?!

“I’ll take one if you’re offering” he smiled back, picking up one of the chocolate chip cookies from the box. He didn’t miss the starry patterns she’d just painted on her nails. She waited for him to take a bite - eyes blinking up at him like a baby deer. He took a bite - lord - this girl can bake. “Wow …” he mumbled between chewing. “This tastes damn good - you made these yeah?” She clapped her hands together excited.

“Yep! Just earlier actually, for Home Ec - I’m glad you like them! I really didn’t want them to go to waste” she pouted for a moment before bringing back her smile - letting out a little giggle. “Wait - you have a little bit of chocolate” she licked her thumb and wiped away the small bit of chocolate from his cheek. “There you go”

Eddies heart was pretty much pounding out of his rib cage. He gave her a smile, finishing off the cookie. “Thanks - they were … they were the best damn cookies I’ve ever tasted” he saw the way her eyes lit up and he grinned - “that’s a very high compliment by the way because I’ve had a lot of cookies” Her smile was so beautiful at that moment - god Eddie wished he could’ve taken a photo. The pretty necklaces around her neck gleaming in the sun - a few crystals decorating her. Breathtaking.

“Thank you Ed’s - here take a couple home, no one else is gonna have anymore” she ripped a bit of greaseproof baking paper from the box and shuffled through her bag. She pulled out some red ribbon from her bag and wrapped up the cookies for him. He didn’t even have time to speak before she began packing away her stuff into her bag.

“Well thank you - you going somewhere?” He wanted to smack his forwardness. God did he sound like a creep?

“I gotta get my bus in town - it’s too far to walk to my house and my usual ride can’t pick me up” she blew on her nails to make sure they stayed dry. “Sucks because it’s always so early” Eddie took a deep breath in and cursed his mind - he’s literally only come back here for a quick smoke before he was supposed to go home.

“If you need a ride I can drive you? Only if you want to obviously - it’s up to you - no one’s around so people won’t see us together or anything” He pushed the offer on the table, his heart once again doing loops.

He nearly wanted to get up on the table and dance when she gave him her pretty smile again. “Okay! If that’s okay? But what’s wrong with people seeing us together?” She’d given him that adorable deer - doe - eyed look again, head tilted to the side.

“I - just thought that - you know what it doesn’t matter” he stopped himself, picking up his lunchbox from the table and helping her up from the bench seat. The two of them headed to his van parked in the car park.

Something about this little interaction had made up his mind that day. He had to have her in his life.

#eddie munson #stranger things #Eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x oc

[jungshookz]

teeny tidbits: emma comes home past curfew & y/n's not happy about it

➺ genre; kindergartenteacher!taehyungiverse!! honk honk humour!! sixteen year old emma reminds y/n of herself and she doesn't know if that's a bad thing or a good thing

➺ wordcount; 1.5k

➺ p.s. this takes place far faR off into the future!! i just thought it'd be nice to see emma as a spunky teenager :'))

(unfortunately i wasn’t able to track down the original maker of this gif but this is where i sourced it from! all credits go to the original creator of course :-))

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

the sound of the front door rattling at four in the morning would usually be something that would terrify pretty much anybody, but for you-

"oh, come on!"

it's really just another day in the life.

"em's home," taehyung reaches over slowly to pat your stomach and wake you up (as if you haven't been up waiting for the past four hours), his voice laced with sleep as he rolls to the side, "i'll go open the-"

"nope." you reach over to turn the lamp on before flicking the covers off and stepping out of bed, adjusting the strap of your tank top before pointing a finger at taehyung, "you're not opening anything."

"okay, well-" taehyung pauses before propping himself up a little to frown at you, "wait, what?"

"you know, i cannot believe her-" you snap, pulling your hair up into a bun as you hurry over to the window, "it's like she likes to be grounded! i told her she could go out with her friends as long as she came back before curfew, but no-"

"well, it's not that late, is it?" taehyung tosses the pillow he's hugging to his chest aside before turning to look at the clock sitting on his bedside table, "it's only- oh. it's 4:18."

you unlock the latch on the window before digging your fingers underneath it and pulling it up with a snap, watching as emma rushes out from the front porch at the sudden noise

"why, good morning, miss kim!" you call out, leaning down against the edge of the open window with a bright smile, "now i can rest well knowing you weren't murdered tonight."

"the door's broken or something!" emma strategically ignores your snarky comment, placing a hand on her hip before sticking her hand up in the air to flash you her keys with a jingle, "my keys aren't working!"

"oh, your keys are fine, sweetheart." you let out a sigh before scrunching your nose, "i triple-locked the doors. better to be safe than to be sorry, right?"

"okay, well-" emma pauses, scratching the back of her neck before gesturing towards the door, "are you gonna open the door for me or what? i really have to pee-"

"you could always take a squat and pee in the bushes." you point out, emma's jaw dropping slightly before she lets out a scoff

"are you serious? i'm not taking a piss in the bushes-"

"well, i guess you should've thought of that before coming home four hours past curfew!" your tone changes as soon as you get to the point and even from here you're able to make out the slight twitch of panic that runs through emma's body

"don't be ridiculous, i'm not four hours past curfew-" emma grumbles, turning to pull her phone out of her purse and glancing at it before pausing for a second and then looking back up at you, "i'm... four hours and twenty minutes past curfew. so take that!"

"you know, i was just being nice and i rounded down, but if you wanna say you were four hours and twenty minutes late, we can definitely say you were four hours and twenty minutes late-"

"mom!" emma whines, stomping her foot down on the ground as she shoves her phone back into her (your!!) purse hastily, "you can't just- are you seriously not going to let me into the house?! you're gonna make me sleep out on the front porch?! i can't- what if the coyotes get me?! if the coyotes get me, you're gonna regret this decision so bad-"

"the only thing that's going to attack you in this neighbourhood are the little girl scouts who won't leave you alone until you buy, like, ten boxes of cookies from them-"

"i'm sixteen, mother!" emma cuts you off with another whine and you can't help but roll your eyes at the sight of your daughter throwing a tantrum on the front lawn, "i'm grown! i should be allowed to go out with my friends and come home whenever i want!"

you thought you were 'grown' at sixteen too

(spoiler alert: that was not the case at all.)

obviously you love your daughter more than anything in the world but you hate that she inherited one of the traits that you're not fond too of: your stubbornness

and look, of course you know that she's getting older and that she should be allowed to go and have (safe) fun with her friends but this isn't the first time she's broken the rules and knowing her, it certainly won't be the last time

and it doesn't help that taehyung always gets to play good cop and you have to be the bad one!!!

like last time when the two of you caught emma climbing into the house through one of the windows and she ended up getting stuck - instead of reprimanding her for coming home late again, taehyung just laughed and immediately went over to help her out

sure, the sight of your daughter flailing around trapped in a small window was hilarious, but someone had to be the serious one in the situation (1) she lied to you about just having a chill night with her friends because you're pretty sure a chill night doesn't involve body glitter and the faint smell of vodka on her breath! 2) she climbed up the side of the house like a maniac and could've gotten seriously injured????) and of course the responsibility to do that fell onto your lap

taehyung's also just not very good at disciplining which is why you usually gently push him aside and take the lead and it looks like it's time for you to turn on your i'm not mad, i'm just very disappointed in you act once again

"you're going to wake your brother up if you keep screaming like that, and you know how fussy he gets when he doesn't get a good night's sleep-"

"he's the world's sleepiest baby, i could blow up fireworks in his room and he'd be fine- dad!" emma's eyes immediately light up when a sleepy taehyung suddenly pops up next to you and you raise a brow when he nudges you aside gently, "oh my god, thank god- mom's literally being insane right now, you have to let me in-"

"what time did you say you'd be home?" taehyung interrupts, "because i think we agreed on midnight when i dropped you off at hope's apartment..."

"i-" emma presses her lips together before letting out a little scoff and rolling her eyes, "okay, yes, we- i said i would be home by midnight, yes." she sighs before suddenly perking up again, "it's not my fault, though! no one goes home before midnight, it's so lame- hope's dad lets her stay out as long as she texts-"

"ah, texts! let's talk about that! didn't you say you'd text us to let us know where you were if you weren't home by midnight?" taehyung points out, crossing his arms over his chest before reaching up to stroke at his chin to feign deep thought, "because my phone hasn't gone off all night... has yours, darling?" he hums, turning to glance at you

"nope!" you chime in with a helpless little shrug and you nearly crack a smile when you see emma reach up to pinch the bridge of her nose in frustration, "my phone has been dead silent. no texts. not even an emoji!"

"you hear that, emma? not even an emoji." taehyung tsks, shaking his head in disappointment, "you know what this means, don't you?"

"i'm grounded for two weeks, i know-"

"two weeks?? oh, you're grounded for a month." taehyung pauses for a second before looking down at her again, "and! and you have to change all of your brother's diapers the whole time you're grounded. also, i just want to let you know that he had sweet potatoes for dinner and you know how gassy he gets after a helping of sweet potatoes-"

"a month?!" emma roars and your eye twitches at how high her voice goes, "you can't ground me for a month, lucas is throwing this huge party next weekend and i have to be there! are you kidding m-"

taehyung slides the window back down before emma gets to say anything else and he turns to face you with a grin before opening his arms slightly, "well?? what did you think??"

"i think... that was probably one of the sexiest things you've ever done for me." you laugh lightly, happily giving him a quick kiss when he leans in for one

"duly noted." taehyung beams before letting out a quick sigh and then turning on his heels to head to the door, "okay, i'm going to go let our daughter into the house now because i don't think my hydrangeas are going to survive being peed on-"

🎙️give emma some diaper changing tips (talk to my characters/send in a message!)

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here? (full fics!)

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles! mini series!)

🌟or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits like this one!)

#teeny tidbits #kindergarten!tae #kindergarten!tae drabbles #taehyung drabbles #kim taehyung #taehyung fluff #taehyung fluff recs #taehyung #kim taehyung drabbles #taehyung drabble recs #kim taehyung drabble recs #taehyung imagines #kim taehyung imagines #taehyung fics #taehyung fic recs #bts v #bts taehyung #bts x reader #bts scenarios #taehyung x reader #taehyung dad au #taehyung au #bts au #bts dad au #bts au masterlist #taehyung au masterlist #bts fluff #bts fluff recs #taehyung scenarios #taehyung x oc

[honeyatsu]

Loner (Junpei x f!reader) 2

Warnings: whole lotta fluff. y/n being dense lmao.

summary: Junpei was suspicious of you. He always felt the world was filled with people who were naturally evil in some way, until you came into his life and challenged his theory.

masterlist

crossposted on ao3

unorganized sountrack

a/n: updates gonna be slow from now on until the semester is over!

Tatsu ramen wasn’t too far from the school grounds, taking your time walking would consist of a light fifteen minutes. The sun would be setting by the time you and Junpei would make your way to the restaurant, the streets being busy with those walking home after a long day. Tatsu ramen would never be too busy with the time you two went considering it was often school days that you two would go and eat after school hours and (sometimes) do homework. The two of you have become all too familiar with the place, the dim-lit yellow walls and red booths become a place of comfort, a place to rest and ease down after a long day of classes and spending time at your clubs.

Within a month, it was a routine for you two. After finishing your club activities, you would always wait for Junpei outside of the school gates, usually playing with the hems of your uniformed skirt and smiling widely as you would see him walk towards you. The first time he saw you waiting he didn’t know it was for him, until you grabbed his wrist and dragged him to the same place you took him to the day before without warning.

It was more you who would go out of your way to look for him, noticing him at school a lot more since meeting him in class. He would often walk with head down, so you would run to him while shouting his name, hugging him from behind to grab his attention. Within the first two weeks of you latching yourself onto him with your presence, he just wanted to ask why. Why did you run from your friends to be with him? Why did you wait after school every day with him just to go and eat after? Why were you so persistent in being his friend?

He would often wonder why with you, but he never asked.

“This assignment is sooo hard, don’t wanna do it.” You sighed while laying your head on the table. You reached your hands out across, grabbing Junpei’s fingers and playing with them lightly. You didn’t miss the way his face heated up at your sudden display of contact. You smiled softly to yourself before saying, “You still get flustered when I touch you. Does it bother you? I can stop.”

You tried not to display a look of disappointment of your face, fearing his answer would be to ask you to stop. You figured after a month of friendship with him he’d be used to it, but you wanted to respect his boundaries and his body language continued to display discomfort whenever you would practically breath near him.

“It’s, uhm, it’s just….always so sudden.” He said averting his gaze to his bowl to avoid the smug look on your face. “Do you just casually touch all your friends like this?”

You didn’t want to admit this to yourself, but you’d be lying if you said his small display of jealous didn’t stroke your ego. That and the simple fact that for the first time in a month, he finally acknowledged you as his friend. That extremely small, and most likely unintentional vocal announcement of friendship was a firm pat in the back for you. With the surge of confidence overflowing, you made the bold (yet not out of character) move of removing your fingers from his, now holding a tight grip on his hand.

“Why? Does me touching my other friends like this bother you?” you teased at him as you rose your head from the table, giving him a subtle smirk.

He quickly removed his hand from yours, turning his head to the side trying to hide his flustered face from you, “I didn’t say that!” he exclaimed shakily.

Your hand that was once holding his shifted towards the chopsticks to the side, picking them up and bringing noodles closer to your face, “If you want, that can be our thing. You’re my favorite friend.” You said as you began to stuff ramen noodles in your mouth.

Junpei continued to avert his eyes, trying to look anywhere but at you.

---------------------

The monotoned lecture echoed throughout the classroom, the words going in one ear and out the other for the room of students struggling to pay attention. Heavy eyes could be mistaken as contagious for those who were fighting to not have their heads hit the desk, each and every student feeling the same internal battle of focusing on their sensei’s words.

You couldn’t keep your glittered purple pen from lightly hitting on the desk, every tap being used as a source of focus to help your heavy eyes stay open. Your foot followed the rhythem of the pen, you felt as if you had to keep moving, had to have something going on other than the mundane voice of the lecturer in the front of the room.

“…and now class, time for a break.”

You sighed in relief as you plopped your head onto Junpei’s shoulder, his body stiffened for a few seconds before relaxing, he was still getting used to your constant physical displays of affection.

Junpei waited to hear your voice seep through his ears, usually when breaks occur during class you take the ten minutes of free time to talk Junpei’s ear off. After all this time, it took you to start a conversation and carry it as well.

The silence was now unfamiliar, sitting with you he became accustomed to regular conversations. He used to crave silence, most words directed towards him stung, but with you he was looking forward to it. Before he was able to ask if you were okay, he noticed you begin to nod off to sleep, until in a split second your eyes perked up when you noticed a movie poster sticking out of his notebook. Your hands slowly dragged it out of the book as you stared at it, it was a “Scream” movie poster.

His shoulder was free from the weight of your head, staring at you curiously as you grabbed his notebook and placed it on the opposite side of where he was sitting, writing in it with your head laying down facing the other side of the desk. He couldn’t see what you were doing, shuffling awkwardly in his sit waiting to figure out what to anticipate from you next.

Within seven minutes, you turned to him with a wide grin plastered onto your face.

“Ta-da!”

He looked down at the paper you slid to his side of the desk and saw a very detailed drawing of ghostface. It was the signature pose, his dark cloak covering his body, holding onto the bloody knife raised before he was prepared to slaughter his next victim. His drawn mask didn’t miss any shadows, even the small texture was visible in your quick sketch.

“I didn’t know you could draw!” Junpei said excitedly, mouth agape as he grabbed the picture with both hands, his eyes widened in awe, “Are you in art club?”

“No, I wish. I take advanced art as a class though. I’m in the athletic club department. I’ve done martial arts and gymnastics my entire childhood.” You brought up your arm and flexed your muscles. “Feel them, I’m pretty strong.” You said with a grin.

Pretty strong would be an understatement, Junpei thought to himself. He brought his hand and gripped onto your bicep, gasping once you flexed to show him you indeed were strong, your muscles putting his slightly-skinny ones to shame.

“I’m pretty strong compared to you, Junpei.” He winced at your comment, about to make his first slick remark towards you until –

“That just means I get to be your knight and shining armor then.”

--------------

Avoiding the pleas of your friends to stay with them, you finally managed to escape the group in search for Junpei. Bumping into other classmates, hovering over lunch tables, even going to more isolated areas of the lunch room, he was still out of sight for you. You gripped your lunch box tightly in frustration, just how hard was it to find the one person in your school that had such a distinct look? You cursed yourself, after a month of friendship and spending the amount of time you did outside of school, you still never managed to get his number.

On a whim you decided to step outside, the cool October breeze catching you by surprise. The autumn trees displaying colors of yellow, orange, red, and purple were the perfect scenario for those school couples wanting to be away from the rest of the school, you knew this. Yet, it was such an embarrassing surprise when every step you would take you would come in a – very awkward -encounter with a couple, whether cuddling or making out, you’d just turn on your heel and act as if you didn’t see a thing at all.

You scolded yourself for even considering looking outside, knowing Junpei he’d be a flustered mess even being near these couples. You didn’t know who his friends outside of you were, so there was no way of you going to ask where he could be for lunch, and you were on the verge of giving up and going back to your group. While taking a detour walking the long way back to the cafeteria entrance, you noticed a boy sitting on a bench under a tree close to one of the classroom windows, a familiar overlapping bang covering the ride side of his face. You grinned to yourself before making your way – of course he’d be in the most isolated place in the whole school.

You ran to him, frantically waving and shouting his name before he finally looked up, giving you a small smile and wave back. Once you got there, you plopped next to him as you let out a deep breath and laid your head on his shoulder.

This time he didn’t flinch.

“What do your friends think?”

“hm?”

“You’re always ditching them for me….” Junpei replied sheepishly as he turned his head to the other side.

“Hey.” You said ignoring his statement, you pulled out your airpods and put one in your ear and one in his. “Give me your number.” You said handing your phone to him.

After he added himself as a contact to your phone, he noticed you quickly send him a link before you quickly snatched his phone from his hand, saving your contact as ‘y/n <3’.

“I made you something.” You said before sending him a link. He checked his phone and the message read, ‘For Junpei.’ With a red heart next to it. “It was a bunch of songs I liked, and I thought you’d like them too. And songs that made me think of you. Let’s listen to some together.”

You were about to hit play before you heard him sniffling next to you. You didn’t miss the tear drop that fell on top of his screen that he was staring at intensely. He had a small smile and blush on his face. Instinctively, you took out a handkerchief that was in your school uniform pocket and bringing it up to him, wiping his slight tear-stained face as he was gliding his fingers through the screen softly. “Are you okay?”

“No one’s ever really...gotten me anything.…let alone made me something.”

A slight frown developed on your face as he continued to stare at the screen in awe, finally beginning to scroll through the songs you’ve chosen to compile together for him. Once his cheeks were no longer tear stained you went back to your original position, sneaking your hand on top of his, squeezing it to grab his attention. He slowly looked to the side to face you, eyes shifting from you and the screen.

“I guess this makes me your best friend.”

He smiles and nods at you, “Yeah, you’re my best friend y/n.”

Your eyes widened at the statement; your breath became rigid as you quickly averted your eyes to the ground. You brought your knees closer to you, wrapping your arms around them and laying your head on top of your knees. Junpei chuckled to himself, he never thought he’d be the one to finally make you flustered.

“Start with Frank Oceans songs.” You said in almost a whisper “I think you’ll like them.”

He started to play the music, sitting back against the tree, bringing his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to him.

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum.

It felt as if a drum was going through steady rhythm in your chest. The blood flow rushed to the tip of your fingers, your pulse feeling like a wave flowing throughout your body. His hug triggered a rush of adrenaline that shot through you like a drug. Taking three deep breathes you tried your best to compose yourself, finally lifting your heard from your knees to see him. His head was laid against the tree, eyes closed listening to the song that was playing.

The roles finally reversed, Junpei finding peace with his hold on you yet you couldn’t help but feel a nervous wreck at the situation at hand. You wanted to feel comfortable, you wanted to engulf yourself in the music just as he’s doing but for some reason unknown to you, you were just so damn nervous.

Finally bringing your knees down, you looked up at Junpei seeing a relaxed smile on his face, eyes still closed before he opened one after feeling you move around. He gave a slight smirk before closing his eyes again, not letting his grip on you go. Breathless, you couldn’t find it in yourself to relax in that moment, he’s never made that kind of face to you before nor has he ever looked that confident.

Twiddling your thumbs and avoiding looking at his face, you felt a slight guilt creep up on you. Junpei, your now declared best friend, finally looks confident and finally feels comfortable with you, so why did you feel so weird? You remember when you met him, he was easily embarrassed and insecure, even you could tell that, and you’ve just met him. He finally shows a bit of confidence and you felt a foreign feeling – your heart racing, palms sweating, feeling heat flow through your body, what reason did you have to feel so nervous about someone you were so used to be around, unless –

Oh.

Before you let yourself finish that thought, your eyes caught another movie poster sticking out from him bag. Seeing this as your chance to ruin this movement, you quickly reached over him, causing him to jump, as you took out the poster sticking out of his bag.

'Killer Klowns From Outter Space’.

“You’re a big fan of movies, aren’t you?” You said as you hesitantly looked him in the eye. Just because you were a nervous wreck internally doesn’t mean you had to act on it, you thought to yourself.

He gave you a closed eye smile before responding, “Yeah, are you? Do you like horror movies?”

“mmm, no. not really. My mom hates this movie actually. You should invite me over, then we could watch movies together.” You grinned noticing the blush form onto his face before he stuttered out an “okay.”

Finally, the roles going back to how they should be.

--------------------

Your ankle continued throbbing as you dragged yourself through the empty halls of your school. The halls that during the day are filled with laughter and voices became eerily quiet at this time of the day. Everyone occupied in their club activities there was no room for useless roaming within the halls.

Wincing in pain, you begin to regret saying you didn’t need help going to and from the nurse’s office. During cheer practice you fell from the top of the pyramid, hurting your ankles as you fell roughly onto the mat. ‘You’re lucky you didn’t twist your ankle, just rest and it should be fine in a few days.’ The nurse told you. The feeling of your pulsating ankle and how every step felt like needles seeping through your skin, you had a tough time believing that statement.

You began to regret taking the long way back to the club room, wanting to take a detour of the halls before having to be forced to sit and watch your club members until the end of practice, until you heard a voice that was all too familiar with you now.

Sneaking to the door labeled ‘movie club’ where the noise was coming from, you opened it slightly while peeking your head through it. In it, you saw a very excited Junpei speaking to two other boys. He was going on about the complexities of a plot to one of his favorite horror films, The Conjuring, you were guessing based on the plot, but you couldn’t be too sure, you hated horror films.

Then you saw it. His eyes bright with pleasure and contentment, the most genuine wide smile you’ve seen him wear since the moment you’ve met him. You couldn’t pass this up, you quickly brought your phone up and snapped a picture of Junpei smiling. You wanted to snap the picture and make your way back to your club, giving Junpei some free time from you and enjoy the first moment you’ve seen of him and his friends outside of you.

But this was you, and with your luck the flash from your phone was on and caught the attention of the three boys in the room. As all eyes made their way to the door you sheepishly opened it, giving a guilty smile followed by a small giggle.

“Junpei!” you said cheerily to mask the embarrassment you were facing at the moment. “Movie club, huh? It makes sense, you do love your movies.”

“(y/n), what…what are you doing..here..and did you just..did you just – ”

“Sorryyyy” you whined as you made your way to the table they were all seated at, pulling out a chair for yourself, “You just looked so happy! I don’t even think I’ve seen you that excited to talk to me. I wanted to remember that face, you should show it more.” You gushed out.

That caused a gasp from the two club members sitting at each side of you and a frantically embarrassed Junpei.

“Junpei, how do you know (y/n)?” the one with glasses asked shamelessly. His face was familiar, you couldn’t help but intensively stare at him, ignoring the blush on his face due to your gaze.

“You’ve been to my tournaments?” You asked, recalling seeing him in the stands holding a sign with your school name on it. All he could do was gulp and nod as you backed up from him, “thanks for your support!” you chirped.

“You told me you did martial arts….” Junpei tried not to stare at you, your uniform hugging your body tightly. The way your skirt was risen up due to the sitting position and how your top squeezed your chest, it left little to the imagination and Junpei didn’t want to feel like he was disrespecting you. He knew it was just a uniform, but the way it complimented your body, the way your hair was styled for the uniform, along with the sweat from your forehead that was dripping...the sight in front of him was dangerous, you were dangerous.

“Yeah and I got bored. This year I wanted art club, but my mom said my future would be more promising if I stayed in the athletic department.” You explained, “So I decided the sport with the cutest uniform. Don’t you think I look cute, Jun-pei?” you said batting your eyelashes at him, hoping he would look at you the way his club members were. His club members gasped at you of all people flirting with their club president, and all Junpei could do was nod his head as he glanced at you for a second, quickly switching his view from you to the movie he was holding on his hand.

“I should go. I bet they’re waiting for me. I wish I was in a club like this, you all seem so relaxed.” You brought your body up, stretching before you pushed the chair back into the original position. “I hope you don’t mind me crashing your club when I don’t feel like being in mine, Jun-pei.” You sang out before dragging yourself out of the room.

“How the fuck did you manage to get so close to y/n?”

-------------------------------

For the first time, it was Junpei who was waiting for you outside of the club gates. Normally if you weren’t already there, he would walk home alone and just see you in class the next day or you would chase him in the halls, whining about how he didn’t eat with you the day before.

He didn’t miss how the fresh colors of the sky brushed upon your skin as he saw your figure making its way towards him. It hits him – seeing you walk towards him with what’s left of the sun kissing your skin, this is what he’s been missing out on while leaving you to walk alone? You grin as you make your way towards him, your usual skip replaced with you wobbling to him. He noticed you coming towards him carrying a box of chocolates and a letter, you just got another confession. It would have been your tenth one this week, not as if he was counting or anything.

Every time he experienced you carrying gifts along with love letters, every time eyes would linger the two of you in the hall, and the dirty looks you seemed to miss when leaving your group of friends to be with him, his self-doubt would whisper harsh words in his brain: what did you even see in him?

“I think this is the first time you’ve waited for me! About time.” You said linking your arm around his.

“You got another one.”

“Yeah, this time from Shota.” You missed the way Junpei winced at the name you just said. His arm unlinked with yours, staying in place as you still walked forward before stopping. You turned to him with a questioning look.

“What..um..what do you think of him?”

“He’s kind of scary.” You admitted, “I feel like his personality is fake. His smile has a bit of a sinister undertone, don’t you think? I mean, we’re in the same circle so I tolerate him. I wouldn’t call him my friend though.”

“You deserve better friends. Yours are jerks.” He spat out, not even realizing the word vomit coming from his mouth. “You reject all these guys…you could have whoever you wanted. Why?”

You brought your hand to your chin, squinting your eyes deep in thought. You never truly thought about why you rejected the confessions you would get; you just knew that you didn’t want them.

“Most of the guys who confess to me are a bit much, I guess you could say. Too aggressive, too competitive, not really on the sweet side. Makes sense, I’m an athlete so naturally I’m surrounded by them and those are common traits in the most successful athletes, I guess.”

Finally, as if a light went off in your head you gave off a wide smile to Junpei at your new discovery.

The reflection of dawn hit you, Junpei saw you as an angel in the very moment. The orange-gold glow bouncing off your body, your eyelashes reflecting the light being given to you by the sky, you were glowing and your sweet voice sounding like honey as you said,

“I like very kind, considerate men…and of course, cute. Now that I think about it, my type sounds a lot like you, doesn’t it?”

prev | next

taglist; @loveinumaki

pls lmk in the ask if you'd like to be added.

#junpei x reader #junpei yoshino #junpei x yn #junpei yoshino x reader #junpei jjk #junpei jujutsu kaisen #junpei fluff

[bibliosophist]

Could we have Nr 3 from thr Fluff prompts with Mammon, please? I really wanna steal his jacket 😁

Fluff #3 with Mammon, but make it his jacket “Have you seen my hoodie?” “Noo.” “You’re wearing it, aren’t you?”

CW: alcohol consumption

When you’d brought back a bottle of your favourite alcohol from your trip to the human world, you had sworn to yourself that you would make it last. After all, who knew when you’d get to go back up there?

Of course, your conviction crumbles when the brothers suggest a drinking contest, now that you actually have something that can get you inebriated. You decline at first, but then Mammon opens his huge mouth. You aren’t Lucifer, but you have your pride, and the Avatar of Greed doesn’t have to work too hard to goad you into the competition. You vow to wipe that smug look right off his face.

In the end, only Lucifer abstains, rolling his eyes at what he calls a “Juvenile display of stupidity.” Well, whatever. You’re determined not to let The Fun Sucker ruin the party.

The rest of you plan to gather in Mammon’s room. Already equipped with a pool table, projector, and killer sound system, it seems like the most sensible place for a night of drinking. Beel orders pizza from Demonios, and Asmo shows up with an entire case of demonus. Levi has somehow managed to get his hands on a pre-release of the brand new Man of the Ripcord album, and has it blaring out of the speakers. All in all, it’s shaping up to be a pretty good night.

Mammon wastes no time in getting down to business. You’ve barely finished popping open the pizza box before he slides a shot across the table to rest at your elbow. You have to admit, he’s pretty good at that. You look him dead in the eyes as you down it in a single swallow. Heat shoots down your esophagus- it’s been a while since you’ve done this, but there’s no way you’re going to let him see you react. The corners of his lips twitch, and then he takes his own first shot of the night. His eyes sparkle as he looks at you across his empty glass. You slide your empty one back to him.

“Heeeeyyyy, wait for us!” squeals Asmo, dropping onto the couch next to you and slinging an arm around your shoulders. He’s been rifling through Mammon’s wardrobe, and has one of his brother’s fancy pairs of sunglasses perched on his nose.

“Oi, put those back!” Mammon barks, lunging across the table. Asmo just laughs, taking the opportunity to snatch the open bottle of demonus from Mammon’s hand.

“Oh, are we starting?” asks Satan from over by the pool table. He and Levi set down their cues and join your group around the coffee table.

“We’re catching up, dear brothers.” says Asmo. “Some people were rude enough to start without us!” Beel barely looks up from the pizza, and Belphie from where he’s dozing on his twin’s shoulder, when they’re passed drinks. “Cheers!” Asmo shouts, and they throw back their demonus in unison.

The first one to drop is Belphie- not due to an inability to keep up, but to stay up. He face plants into an empty pizza box less than half an hour into the night. Levi holds on for a solid seven shots before getting emotional and developing the overwhelming need to visit Henry 1.0. Satan and Beel chase after him, determined to save their brother from becoming snake chow. They’re all pretty wobbly when they leave, so you text Lucifer just in case the idiots actually manage to make it to the castle. You’ll deal with the repercussions of waking him up later.

Asmo makes it the longest, matching Mammon shot for shot until he falls off the pool table where he’s been dancing (shirtless, of course). Clutching his ass and sobbing about the bruise that he’ll have in the morning, he climbs into Mammon’s bed and promptly passes out. You put the trash bin next to his face and pat him on the head. His hair really is very, very soft. You make a mental note to ask him what conditioner he uses-- if you remember in the morning.

“Oi, (Y/N), what’re ya- what’re ya doin’ over there?” comes Mammon’s slurred voice from the couch.

“Ughhh,” you answer, lurching across the room to flop down beside him.

“You did pretty good, ya know, for a- what’re you again?”

“Human.”

“Yeah, human. Kept up an’ everythin’.”

“Yeah well,” you grin, “I’m full of hidden talents.” He laughs, reaching out to pat what you think might be your shoulder. Since he’s had an entire bottle of demonus to himself and has popped his sunglasses over his eyes, he misses and ends up pawing at your face. “Mamms, get off,” you say, swatting at his hand.

“Ah you’re fine,” he says, hand settling on your cheek. Your head spins from the drink, and you lean into his touch. His hand is warm and solid, but unfortunately not steady at all. The harder you lean, the more his arm gives and you lose your balance, tumbling onto his lap.

“Owwww,” you whine as you pull yourself to your feet, “your knees are sharp.”

“Where’re ya goin’?”

“I need air,” you say, dragging yourself up the stairs towards Mammon’s makeshift garage.

“Wait, I’ll come too,” he says.

Eventually, the two of you make it up the stairs and through the door. The chill night air feels fantastic. You spin around in a slow circle with your arms outstretched, letting the breeze dry the sheen of sweat on your skin. Have you ever noticed how beautiful the Devildom sky looked at night? All the purple hues of the day had been chased away, and the stars stood out like individual fairy lights.

“H-hey, what’re ya doin’?

“Huh? Oh.” Somehow you’d ended up on your bottom in the grass. “The sky is pretty,” you say, pointing up.

He chuckles, plopping down on the ground beside you. “Yeah, I guess so. I never really noticed it before.”

“Well, you should... should notice stuff more.”

“Like what?”

You swivel your head to look over at him. It feels heavy. He’s looking at you, and the way the light from the night sky makes his eyes glitter... “Like your eyes. They look like- look like stars.”

Mammon ducks his head. “(Y/N), I...”

“Boop,” you squeak, reaching out to tweak his nose. You dissolve into giggles, falling back into the grass.

“Aw geez,” comes Mammon’s voice from somewhere above you. “C’mon, it’s cold. If you’re gonna roll around, at least let me- here- stay still, damnit!”

The last thing you remember is feeling your arms being pulled through the sleeves of an already warm jacket as tears of laughter roll down your cheeks.

The next afternoon when you wake up, you’re on one of Mammon’s couches, a pool of drool sticking your cheek to the upholstery. You groan, clutching your head as you slowly sit up. Coffee. You desperately need coffee. And the bathroom. Not in that order.

You’re stumbling around the kitchen a few minutes later when your text alert goes off.

Mammon: Oi, (Y/N)! Have you seen my jacket?

A grin spreads across your face. You set the empty coffee pot down, the sleeves of Mammon’s brown jacket flapping around your hands as you answer.

(Y/N): Noo.

Mammon: You’re wearing it, aren’t you?

(Y/N): I’m just making coffee.

Mammon: Aw, no! You’ll get something on it! HOLD ON, I’M COMIN’!

You slip the phone into the jacket’s pocket, still smiling as you begin filling the pot with water. To

#obey me mammon #om! mammon #obey me shall we date #shall we date #obey me #mammon #fluff #fluffy fic #ask #anon asks #prompt #writing prompt

[miracleonice87]

Begin Again, part two

with Mathew Barzal

a/n: in honor of @kerwritesthings’ birthday (that’s right, go wish her a happy one if you haven’t already!)… Hayden and Mat are back! part one was one of the earlier pieces I wrote, and it was a combo of a reader/oc, which I don’t really like to use in my writing now, but I’m sticking with it for consistency’s sake. title is based on T Swift's song, which I obviously don't own and all that stuff.

warnings: swearing, allusions to sex, nothing graphic

word count: 5.3K+

_____

“Hayden!” you heard from across the Coliseum concourse, just moments after you’d stepped through the doors of the main entrance. A stunning platinum blonde with a dazzling smile quickly approached, waving excitedly. Your first instinct was to look over your shoulder to try and determine who the woman was speaking to, since you didn’t recognize her, but she had called your name.

Instead, you forced a small smile and tentatively stepped toward her. As soon as she was within arm’s reach, she gathered you into a tight hug.

“Sorry, I’m a hugger!” she exclaimed, then stepped back and fanned a hand across her chest. You couldn’t help but notice the rock on her left ring finger, not to mention her perfectly manicured nails and pristine blue silk Islanders jacket, paired with a white t-shirt, black jeans, and snakeskin boots. “I’m Sydney, but you can call me Syd. It’s Sydney Esiason Martin, actually. I’m Matt Martin’s wife, but all the guys just call him Marty,” she explained, her hands gesturing animatedly all the while.

It was all coming together in your brain now, that Mat must have arranged for Sydney to be on the lookout for you, and you nodded slowly, your smile growing.

“I’m Hayden,” you offered, but of course, she already knew that, you thought as you mentally kicked yourself. “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you, and Marty, too.”

Sydney beamed, her eyes glittering. “Yeah, you, too!” she said. “It isn’t often Barzy brings a girl around the group. Well, honestly… it isn’t ever, actually,” she said with a lighthearted giggle. “You must be pretty special.”

You breathed a chuckle and swiped your tongue along your bottom lip, lost for words.

Sydney must have sensed your unease, because after a beat, she gave your upper arm a light squeeze and nodded her head toward the escalators leading to the suite level.

“C’mon, I’ll show ya where we’re sitting,” she said. “I’m starving. I think I want a pretzel with cheese. Are you hungry? They have the most incredible nachos up there, just wait…”

And as Sydney rambled on about the delicacies to be found in the family suite, your anxieties about meeting the people there suddenly shrunk, and you found yourself thinking that you were going to like this “Syd.”

_____

The game was a blowout.

New York beat Ottawa 6-1, and Mat had a goal and three assists, not to mention the night’s second star. You had held your own in the family box, and Sydney had been the perfect guide — introducing you to the kindest of the guys’ partners and avoiding the ones that side-eyed you standoffishly, whispering in your ear that so-and-so had dated two NHLers in the past, and so-and-so and her boyfriend were constantly on and off, and that Syd didn’t expect them to be around for long, so don’t worry about them. You mostly spent the evening nodding along politely to various conversations, giggling at Sydney’s over-the-top antics, and making small talk with some of the veterans’ wives. They all seemed relieved to know that you were familiar with the hockey world and, therefore, had at least a hint of what you were (potentially) getting yourself into.

But one thing you hadn’t expected? When Syd turned to you a few minutes after the game ended and said, “Oh! Matt just texted me. He said Barzy wants me to bring you downstairs.”

You swallowed your last sip of beer, hard.

“Downstairs?” you asked softly after a long pause.

“Uh huh!” Sydney nodded emphatically, tucking her phone into her Louis Vuitton bag and patting your knee. “He probably wants to introduce you to some of the boys. Don’t worry,” she said with a nonchalant wave of her hand, doing her best to calm your nerves.

You nodded slowly and reached for your own, much less expensive, bag. “O-okay.”

Ten minutes later, you were in the depths of the Coliseum in a lounge across from the locker room, Sydney chatting away about how when playoffs start, you’ll have to join her and the other girls for tailgating in the parking lot before the game, because it’s such a blast, and it’s a lot easier to watch your significant other knock the shit out of someone (or get the shit knocked out of him) when you’re tipsy. You stayed noncommittal, all the while questioning in your mind whether Mat would even want you around once playoffs started.

But you didn’t have long to dwell on that, because a moment later, the locker room door swung open, and two tall, broad, light brown-haired men stepped through it, Mat close on their heels. You could have sworn you heard him sharply whisper “please don’t embarrass me” before they crossed the hallway, but then again, maybe that was just in your head, because immediately after, Mat gave you a huge smile and stepped forward to pull you in for a hug.

“Hey!” he greeted warmly, then completely caught you off guard by pecking your lips, right there in front of half a dozen of his teammates and their partners.

You touched your fingertips to your lips, feeling them buzzing at the unexpected contact. You recovered as quickly as you could and smiled back at him, lost in the way he looked in his sharp grey suit and in how he smelled fresh out of the shower.

“Hi,” you said quietly.

And just as you studied Mat’s appearance, he was studying yours — taking in your royal blue blazer, the way your light-wash jeans hugged your curves perfectly, and, of course, admiring the Manolo Blahniks you’d scrimped and saved for two years to purchase.

“Nice shoes,” Mat commented, winking flirtatiously. You giggled, his words echoing the very first he had ever spoken to you back in the coffee shop. “Seriously, though, you look beautiful, Hayden,” he added.

Your cheeks warmed, and you tucked your hair behind your ear as you glanced down at your feet.

“Thanks, Maty,” you said quietly. “You look great, too.”

With an appreciative nod, he pressed his hand to your lower back and guided you nearer to the men accompanying him, who had already greeted their significant others — Syd kissing Matt, and Grace, you remembered, hugging her husband, whose name you couldn’t quite recall.

“Well, Hayd, you know Syd and Grace now, but I want to introduce you to their husbands, Marty and Anders,” Mat said, motioning toward them. “Anders is our captain, and Marty’s like my team dad.”

You giggled at that, glancing up at Mat fondly before focusing back on his teammates and extending your arm.

“It’s so nice to meet you both,” you said, shaking their hands.

“You, too,” Anders said. “I’m glad you came out tonight.”

“Yeah, Barzy won’t shut up about you, and now we see what all the fuss is about,” Marty said, laughing at his own joke as Sydney poked him in the ribs playfully.

“What’s this about Barzy not shutting up?” you heard from behind the wall of well-dressed men in front of you, before an icy blue-eyed man stepped forward. Mat rolled his eyes.

“And this is Tito,” Mat said, waving his arm toward the man you knew to be his close friend. “Don’t let him fool you — he doesn’t ever shut up, either.”

Tito smirked at that and held out his hand.

“It’s nice to meet you, Hayden,” he said kindly. “You’ll have to come back — you must’ve been our good luck charm tonight.”

You shook your head shyly. “No, no, I can’t take the credit,” you insisted. “That was all you guys. But yes, it’s so nice to meet you, too, Tito.”

Tito smiled, looking between you and Mat, and before Tito could offer a response, Mat spoke into your ear.

“I got us a reservation at this place nearby,” he said, his low tone making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. “I don’t wanna rush you, but we should probably get going. Besides, hopefully this is far from the last opportunity you’ll have to hear my friends chirp me.”

You smiled up at Mat, admiring the way his still-damp hair fell perfectly around his sculpted face, and nodded.

“Sure, let’s go,” you told him.

_____

“Okay, favoriiite... NFL team.”

“Seahawks," Mat answered. "Since Seattle’s not far from Coquitlam, you know?”

You nodded. “Plus Russell Wilson and Ciara are everything.”

“Everything,” he agreed dramatically, knocking his knuckles on the table for emphasis. “What about you?”

“Oh, Pats all the way,” you proclaimed, sitting back in your chair. “The day Brady signed with the Bucs was top five worst days of my life,” you added emphatically.

Mat clucked his tongue. “Awww, poor baby,” he said teasingly, throwing you a wink. You rolled your eyes.

“Okay, okay, your turn. Next question,” you said, reaching across the table for his hand, tracing the veins there with your fingertips as Mat beamed at you, unable to think immediately of another inquiry as he was too distracted by your soothing touch.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “Alright, uh,” he began. “How about... oh, what was your favorite movie as a kid?”

A faraway smile spread slowly across your lips as you looked just past Mat, recalling laying on the floor of your den back in Maine, Nick by your side as you watched the same VHS tape over and over again.

“You’ve probably never heard of it,” you started, shaking your head. “But, uh, it was called Brave Little Toaster.”

Mat stilled.

“Shut up,” he deadpanned.

Your brows pulled together, puzzled. “What?”

Mat chuckled in disbelief. “Brave Little Toaster was my favorite movie as a kid.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You’re lying,” you accused.

Mat put up his hands in innocence.

“Swear!” he insisted. “You can call my sister right now. We watched it every day for years.”

You could only grin stupidly. “Us, too,” you told him. “Sequels weren’t that good, though,” you added, taking a sip of your wine.

Mat nodded, looking pleased with that assessment, and thought not for the first time that night about how easy this all felt with you. How right. From the simplest thing to the most important.

“No, no, they were trash,” he laughed. “Brave Little Toaster Goes to Mars, and, uh... shit, what was the other one… uh, Brave Little Toaster…”

“To The Rescue,” you finished, Mat echoing the last word before you both fell into a fit of giggles.

“I cannot believe we have this much in common, Maty,” you said when you finally caught your breath.

“Yeah, pretty crazy, right?” Mat said. You nodded as he reached for his gin and tonic. “Feels like I’ve met my other half,” he said.

You pressed your lips together in an attempt to hide your shy smile, dropping your gaze to your lap. From across the table, Mat squeezed your hand. Then, a voice piped up from behind you.

“I hate to interrupt…”

You turned in your seat to find the maître d' leaning toward you, an apologetic look in his eyes.

“We’re going to be closing, so I just wanted to ask—”

“Oh, god, did we close the place down?!” you asked apprehensively, glancing around the room to discover that, indeed, you and Mat were the last two in the room.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” Mat said, flustered. “I didn't even realize. We’ll get out of your hair. I’m so sorry, sir. Really.”

The man shook his head in understanding and left the table as the waiter approached with the bill.

Suddenly, your stomach dropped. You couldn’t even fathom how much two steak dinners and drinks for the both of you would cost at a place like this. You felt guilty for agreeing to come here instead of suggesting something less extravagant, and you braced yourself as you waited for Mat to make some noise of disgust at the number on the check, just like you’d been used to at the end of date nights for so long.

But, it never came. Mat simply tucked a few bills into the fold, and looked back up at you with a smile and a contented sigh.

“You ready?” he asked easily.

You nodded. “I’m ready for anything with you.”

Mat jutted out his chin proudly and came around to pull out your chair. With his hand gently resting on the small of your back, he guided you to the valet station in front of the restaurant while you waited for his car to be brought around. All the while, Mat felt his heart thudding against his ribcage as he contemplated his next move.

Unaware of his internal struggle, you turned to him with a smirk as you awaited the car’s arrival, and you slipped your hands into his jacket pockets as you leaned into his chest.

“My hands are cold,” you explained simply, while Mat nodded, thinking that there was no better feeling than you reaching out for him. He only wanted to be near to you, ever, always, which brought him to finally posing his long anticipated inquiry.

“Hey, uh…” Mat began, clearing his throat nervously. “I was thinkin’, maybe you’d wanna come over to my place, like, maybe for the night? Honestly I just… I just wanna spend as much time with you as I can, especially since we’ve got another roadie coming up. And I’d love to just curl up on the couch with you, maybe watch a movie—“

“Yes,” you answered softly, but firmly. You had never been more certain that yes, you wanted to go home with this person. Right now.

Mat was caught off guard by your confident answer, and he smiled down at you in disbelief.

“You sure?” he asked. “There’s no pressure, Hayd. I know this is moving fast and all.”

You nodded. “It is,” you concurred. “But it feels… good. It feels right. And I wanna come home with you, Maty.”

Mat grinned from ear to ear and grasped your face with both his hands, kissing you deeply just as his car pulled up to the curb. He took your hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Let’s go then.”

_____

You did spend the night at Mat's that night, and the next night, and the one after that. But the one after that, Mat wasn’t around, and was instead in Raleigh for the first half of a two-game road trip. So, you were surprised when, while you were watching the game, you heard your doorbell ring. Frowning, you jogged to your door and hit the intercom.

“Hello?”

“Yeah, Miss Parker?”

“This is she.”

“Got a delivery for you. Says it’s from an ‘M. Barzal’?”

You smirked, tucking your chin to your chest.

“I’ll be right down.”

Seconds later, you were bounding down the stairs to meet the delivery person, who stood on your building’s front steps holding a stout bouquet of full, white peonies. You thanked them as you took the bouquet in your hands, staring down at it wistfully as you closed the door behind you. Not bothering to wait until you were back in your apartment to read the note, you pulled the card from the envelope tucked within the bouquet.

Hayd,

Pretty flowers for my pretty girl. Be home soon. Don’t forget about me.

MB

_____

“Baby sis!”

You heard your brother’s booming voice on the other end of the line three days later, sounding a bit distant. By that and the sound of papers shuffling, you knew he had you on speaker at his office. “What’s up, Hayd?”

You smiled at his eternally effervescent tone.

“Hi, Nicky,” you greeted. “Oh, nothing much.” Lie. “Just wanted to give you a call and check in.”

“Aww, I’m flattered,” Nick replied. “But you know that I know you better than anybody else, right? I can tell by your voice that you’ve got something to say. What’s goin’ on? Lay it on me.”

You bit your bottom lip. Damn him. Even all the way from Boston, he could still read you like a book. You couldn’t help the girlish giggle that escaped you as you admitted, “Okay, okay. I wanted to tell you that I, uh... I met somebody.”

You could practically hear his eyebrows shoot up over the phone.

“Really?” Nick drawled, lengthening both syllables dramatically. You rolled your eyes at his theatrics, but still, you beamed.

“Really,” you confirmed. “Somebody you’d, uh... somebody you’d actually probably recognize.”

“What do you mean? You cop yourself an attorney or what?”

“No,” you responded, fussing with the frayed hem of your cropped sweater. “No, not quite—“

“What, a Yankee then?”

Your eyes widened at his surprisingly accurate interruption. He was more on the nose than he knew.

“Well... not a Yankee, but...”

“Shut up,” he cut you off once more. “A Met? A Jet?”

You bit at the skin around your polished plum fingernails before you spat out, “An Islander.”

Silence. Then, a bellow.

“What?!”

That was Nick. Ever the thespian.

“It’s Mat Barzal, Nicky,” you answered matter-of-factly. “Like something out of a goddamn rom-com, I met him in a coffee shop about a month ago, and we’re… we’re dating. He’s my boyfriend.” You uttered the last words of your statement with an astonished laugh. It still seemed too good to be true just in your own head — telling someone else made you sound certifiably crazy, even to your own ears.

“I- … how... Jesus! What?!” Nick sputtered. “Hayden! What the fuck! Well, ‘m happy for you, but I’m just… I think I’m in shock right now.”

You groaned with a pained chuckle.

“I know. I’ve been in shock this entire time,” you concurred. “But Mat, he’s… he’s amazing. It sounds so cliché, but he’s just such a normal guy. He’s super polite, funny, thoughtful—“

“Plus he’s an absolute man rocket,” Nick added enthusiastically.

You put a hand to your forehead, rolling your eyes once more.

“Spoken like a true former hockey player,” you commented.

Quickly moving on from your remark, Nick asked, “So, when do Annie and I get to meet him? Seen him on the ice for years but I gotta make sure he’s good enough for my baby sis.”

You smiled warmly at his often-used term of endearment and replied, “Well, yeah. That’s kinda the main reason I wanted to talk to you. He plays the B’s next weekend, on Sunday, at the Garden. The game’s at 1, I think, so… uh… he got us tickets — three tickets. He wants me and you and Annie to go to the game and then he wants us all to go out together—“

“Done,” your brother spoke up firmly before you could even finish. You beamed at his confirmation, despite the fact that he had interrupted you for what felt like the hundredth time in your three-minute call.

“Really?” you asked, scrunching your nose tentatively. “I know you guys are really busy, especially with wedding planning and stuff, and I’d totally understand—“

“Hayden, stop,” Nick spoke sternly. “Seriously. It’s no problem. Sundays are good for us. Besides, even if I did have plans, I’d cancel them for this. Meeting my sister’s new boyfriend is a big deal.”

Absentmindedly, you nodded, though he couldn’t see it.

“Well, thank you, Nicky. It means a lot. I’ll let Mat know you can make it. He’ll be so excited,” you told your brother happily.

“Awesome,” Nick replied warmly. “So what about Mom and Dad? They haven’t met the kid yet, have they?”

You snorted. “Nicky, you’re only two years older than him,” you pointed out. “You can’t call him a kid.”

“Sure I can!” he insisted. “He’s dating my kid sister — that makes him a kid to me.”

You sighed, amused.

“Whatever. But no, they have not met him yet,” you said. “That’ll happen soon enough, you know? I mean, you know how Dad can be — he can come off as kinda gruff, even though you and I know he’s a teddy bear. And Mom, she’s just gonna fall in love with him, and I’m not ready for that just yet.” You chuckled as you heard Nick offer a hum of understanding on the other end of the phone. “Besides, he has a lot of respect for you, and you guys have a lot in common. I just think it would be great for the two of you to meet first,” you said.

“What do you mean he has a lot of respect for me?” Nick asked, sounding puzzled.

One of your brows quirked of its own accord and a smirk stretched across your lips. You’d unwittingly skipped over the best part — the best part for Nick, anyway.

“Oh, I didn’t mention that?” you asked smugly. “He remembered you. The first day we met, I told him my brother played in the Q, he asked my last name… and immediately, he remembered you.”

You heard Nick suck in a breath. “You can’t tell me shit like this, sis,” he said. “Annie always says my ego is already too big as it is, and you just inflated it even more.”

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter, amused by his declaration.

“Well, that’s facts,” you replied. “He remembered the injury, but most of all, he remembered how good you were. He was really glad to hear you’re doing well now.”

“Marry him, or I will,” Nick deadpanned. You could tell he was trying to use humor to mask any emotions your statement had stirred up.

“Oh, Annie would love to hear you say that,” you scoffed, then you glanced at the clock above you. “Listen, I gotta get to the Coli, but I’ll—“

“Oh, my god, my name is Hayden, and my boyfriend is an Islanderrr! I have to get to the Coli to watch him playyy!” your brother mimicked ruthlessly.

You growled at Nick’s playful mocking of you and spat, “Hey, you want these B’s-Isles tickets next weekend or not?”

Immediately, Nick shaped up.

“Just kidding, my darling baby sister! I’ll let you go, and I’ll see you next weekend,” he said.

“Deal. I’ll call you once Mat and I go over the details and stuff,” you promised.

“Sounds good. I’ll talk to ya then. Hey — one more thing,” Nick said hurriedly.

“What’s that?” you inquired as you swung your handbag over your shoulder and grabbed your jacket from the hook in your entryway.

“Are you happy?” Nick asked, his voice more solemn than it had been throughout your entire conversation — more solemn than it almost ever was. Your lips stretched into a slow grin.

“Honestly, Nicky…” you began, a dreamy sigh leaving you as you paused pulling on your jacket. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m super happy.”

You could hear Nick smiling as he replied, “Good. I can tell. You deserve it, Hayd.”

“Thanks,” you answered softly. “It feels really good.”

“It does, doesn’t it?” Nick retorted knowingly. You hummed in agreement and he added, “Alright, I’ll talk to you later. I love you, baby sis.”

“I love you, too, brother,” you replied. “Bye.”

You tapped the red button on your screen to end the call and slipped your jacket the rest of the way over your shoulders as you headed for the door. Just as you reached for the knob, your phone dinged with a text alert.

MB 😍: See you after the game, beautiful. Sushi and sleepover at my place tonight? Up to you. Just let me know 😘

You felt your cheeks warm as a smile stretched across your face, grinning like an idiot at your phone as you had every day for the last month — not that you cared. In fact, it was a welcome change from the sighs and eye rolls you used to emit when reading texts from your last significant other. You felt grateful for this new beginning, this flood of long-dormant feelings you didn’t know you’d ever feel again.

Your fingers flew easily across the keyboard as you typed your response: Sounds perfect. Count me in. Good luck, baby 💋

Within seconds, as you pulled the door closed and headed for the parking garage, his reply lit up your screen.

MB 😍: 🥰

Yeah, you couldn’t have said it better yourself.

_____

The next weekend after dinner, Nick stood with his arm wrapped around Annie’s shoulders, waving goodbye as he watched you and Mat turn and walk down the sidewalk in front of the restaurant hand in hand. Annie squeezed Nick’s waist as he sighed.

“What’s the matter?” Annie asked with a soft smile.

Nick shook his head.

“Nothin’,” he said. “Absolutely nothing is the matter. That kid is… I mean, he’s somethin’ else, huh?”

Annie chuckled thoughtfully.

“He really is,” she agreed. “I’ve known your sister since she was a kid, and I’ve never seen her so giddy as she was today with him.”

“Yeah, me either,” Nick said, his voice sounding far away. “I feel like… I dunno, I feel like this might be the real thing. I know it sounds crazy to say that already.”

Annie grinned, leaning her head against his shoulder. “I don’t think it’s crazy,” she said. “I think they’re really in love.”

Nick breathed a laugh through his nose, shaking his head. “Who woulda thought? My sister and an Islander. Shit.”

_____

“Don’t freak out,” Mat spoke, an anxious smirk on his face as his eyes glimmered.

“Maty!” you whined. “You’re scaring me. What the hell is it?” you asked, your eyes landing once more on the white box tied with a blue satin ribbon.

“Just open it,” Mat instructed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees as you studied him cautiously.

You shook your head, wondering what on earth he was up to, but pulled the ribbon to loosen the bow nonetheless. You pulled the top of the box off and peeled away the tissue paper beneath to reveal a denim jacket, the name “BARZAL” and the number 13 embroidered in blue and orange on the back, along with an Isles logo, a blue heart, and plenty of gemstones.

You silently looked toward Mat, who gazed at you expectantly.

“It’s a WAG jacket,” he explained. “You’ve probably seen some of the girls wear them to games.”

You nodded slowly, unable to think of even a single-word response. You knew what it was. You just couldn’t believe it was yours.

You looked back down to the jacket, then finally back at Mat. He moved from his seat on the couch to sit beside you on the loveseat, taking your hand.

“Listen, I know it’s still really early on, but, I… it just felt like a no brainer to me, Hayd,” he said, his words rushed. “You totally don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to — there’s no pressure. But with the playoffs coming up, Syd asked me if I wanted to have one made for you, and I said I did. I didn’t know if I should clear it with you first, but I wanted to surprise you with it, so I—”

“You… you want me to wear this to games?” you interrupted, your brows furrowed.

Mat’s own face contorted with confusion.

“Y-yeah… yeah, of course I do, baby,” he said. “You’re my girlfriend. And I want people to know it.”

You tried to hide your unsureness under a tight smile as you ran your fingers along the decals adorning the jacket, trailing your touch down the seams. You weren’t sure if you would ever get used to being someone that your significant other was proud of and wanted to show off to the world. Past that, you couldn’t believe that Mat had purchased this for you on his own, with no strings attached — just by looking at the custom item, you knew it had been far from cheap. Every day, Mat made you feel like the most special person in the world, and sometimes you weren’t sure why he bothered, or why he’d chosen you when he could have literally anyone else.

But instead of voicing what your insecurities and your past traumas were screaming at you, you simply decided to take Mat at his word — something you’d been working hard on since the start of this relationship. You flashed a million dollar smile and threw your arms around his neck.

“Thank you, Maty,” you whispered into his ear. You felt his arms tighten around you, his hands gently caressing your back. “This means so much to me.”

Mat smiled over your shoulder and kissed your temple.

“It means everything that you wanna wear it,” he told you, pulling back. “I can’t wait to see you in it.”

You beamed and glanced back down at the garment.

“You want me to try it on?” you asked excitedly, like a little kid just home from a back-to-school shopping spree.

Mat nodded, smiling. “I would love for you to try it on,” he assured.

You wasted no time pulling the jacket from the box and lifting it up. You put one arm into the first sleeve, and Mat guided the other arm after it. Upon closer inspection, you could see your own name embroidered into the wrist of the left sleeve, along with a date in matching script on the other sleeve.

“What’s this?” you asked, smoothing your finger along the thread as you held out your arm to Mat.

The corners of his lips ticked upward into a smile. “The day we met,” he said simply.

You met his eyes and immediately leaned in, grasping his face in one hand as you kissed him, overwhelmed by his constant thoughtfulness.

“Thank you,” you repeated, and Mat only nodded. He took your hands and squeezed.

“Stand up, show me,” he insisted.

You giggled and obliged, doing a little spin with your arms outstretched as Mat laughed.

“Wow, baby, it looks great on you,” he said, in awe. “I absolutely love it. Do you like it?”

You nodded, biting at your bottom lip.

“It’s perfect,” you said, smoothing your hands along the fabric. “I’m definitely wearing it to the next game.”

Mathew nodded, pleased to hear your declaration, and crooked his finger, inviting you closer. You stepped forward, rested your knees on the couch on either side of his lap, and looped your arms around his neck. Mathew began to peck at your lips, jaw, and neck playfully.

“You look,” kiss, “so good,” kiss, “with my name,” kiss, “on your back,” kiss, followed by a mischievous squeeze to your butt.

You felt heat rise from your chest, up your neck, to your face, and you leaned back to rid yourself of the jacket and carefully toss it onto the back of the couch, causing Mat to pout his lips.

You shook your head, placing your index finger to his pucker.

“For what I have planned to say thank you, I’m not gonna wanna be wearing anything nice,” you told him, removing your finger to kiss his lips.

Mat raised his eyebrows and hummed his approval.

“How about not wearing anything at all?” he asked, cockiness in his tone as he tugged at your t-shirt. Following his cues, you removed it from your body and tossed it onto the floor.

“Whatever you say, Barzal,” you said, though Mat was too focused on your lacy bra to think of a response.

Instead, he hoisted you over his shoulder as you squealed with laughter, hauling you to the bedroom and leaving the denim jacket to be worn another day.

#happy birthday ker #mathew barzal #mat barzal #m.barzal #m. barzal #my writing #mathew barzal writing #mathew barzal fanfiction #mat barzal writing #mat barzal fanfiction #nhl writing #nhl fanfiction #hockey writing #hockey fanfiction #new york islanders #islanders #barzal

[sugako]

c+k: kuroo

kuroo x f!reader

cw: 18+ minors dni, nsfw, smut, established relationship, dom!kuroo, dumbification, eating/drinking, light nipple play, size kink, slight breeding kink (??if you squint), sorta bratty reader (for like a second), thigh riding, l-bombs

wc: 1.5k

a/n: ahhh very sorry this is late for confessions + kisses....finally we’re back where i’m most comfy writing - smut!! 

You jumped up from the couch when you heard the front door slam open and his loud voice ring through the house. 

“I’m home!!!” With giddy steps, you sprung to the entryway and threw your arms around his shoulders as best you could with all the bags in his hands. He got in a quick peck against your lips while he toed off his shoes before rushing with you to bring the food to the small table. 

Kuroo and you could hardly get a day off from work and Valentine’s Day was certainly no exception. It didn’t matter much, you thought. You got to spend every morning and evening with him in your shared apartment. He set the takeout on the table, throwing the other bags behind him before he sat. You sat across from him and began unwrapping your meal. Of course, he had gotten take-out from his and your favorite restaurant. It was too expensive to go to regularly, but special occasions like this were worth it. 

He was already swallowing down his fancy grilled fish before you got the chance to start on your dish. You motioned behind him, about to take a bite. 

“What’s that?” You asked with a small smirk. 

He gulped down a splash of the cheap beer he also brought back before he spoke. 

"You can find out later." He answered simply before shoveling more food into his mouth. Rolling your eyes, you did the same, both eating quietly until you were finished. 

He turned to pick up the bags, but before he could hand them over, you jumped up. 

"Wait!" You yelled, moving down the hallway. "Let me get something first!" In the bedroom, you picked up a large, awkwardly wrapped bag and a smaller square box. You nearly tripped over the floorboards as you crashed into the couch beside Kuroo, who was cradling his presents for you. 

He pushed them into your arms the minute you set his gifts down, and you both went at tearing off the paper. His soft gasp made you look up just as you had revealed the soft pink ear of a plush from him.

“I love you,” he said quietly, clutching the large bag of chalky candy hearts. You rolled your eyes and unwrapped the bear the rest of the way. 

“That’s not even your real present, you dork.” You scoffed, starting in on the second package. The sweets box wasn’t even wrapped, you assumed he had gotten it on his way home, but you appreciated it all the same. He finally unwrapped his real present, a nice watch he had just mentioned he wanted not too long ago. You had to be quick with gift-buying for Kuroo, if you waited too long he would just buy it himself. 

This time his expression grew serene and he looked up at you with a genuine smile. “Thank you, I really do love you.” 

“I love you too, Tetsu.” You replied, removing the last of the tape from the final present from him. It was a small flat black box and your heart fluttered at what could be inside. He watched you with bated breath as you carefully pulled the top off. 

Inside was a petite chain neatly wrapped behind the padding, holding a tiny, round glittering diamond just above a teardrop garnet. 

“Tetsu… thank you, I… it’s really beautiful.” You sputter out. He pulls you to straddle his lap and holds out a hand. 

“Let me see it on.” He says softly. Nodding, you hand over the jewelry and lean into him so he can clasp it behind your neck. You trail sweet, little kisses up his neck, just barely grinding into him before he takes his hands away and holds your hips down. “Already, baby?” He chuckles into your ear, fingertips ghosting under your shirt. “Someone’s needy tonight.” 

“Missed you today,” you pant, basically grinding against his thigh now, “Want you.” 

“Really?” He smirked. “What do you want?” Not waiting for a response, he tore off your shirt and pants, leaving you nearly exposed in the skimpy panties and bralette you had decided to wear tonight. “Gotta tell me what you want to get it, baby.” His hands trailed up and down your waist, kneading at soft flesh. He watches how the gem settles against your skin beautifully. 

“Want… uhh, want your cock.” You finally choke out. He’s pushing his thigh harder and harder against your clothed slit, flexing his muscle every now and then. You can feel that you’re drooling out already probably staining his black pants. 

“What about it? Where? How?” He keeps going, slowly pulling the bra off and attaching his mouth to your hardened bud, his long fingers playing with your other breast. 

“I don’t…” You gasp as your clit hits just right between the fabric of your panties and his leg. “I don’t know.” 

“C’mon, baby, just tell me. You can’t be that dumb already, haven’t even seen my cock. And I’ve barely even touched these pretty tits.” He coos against your shoulder. When you glance down you can see the outline of his large cock pressing against the slick fabric of his pants. It only makes you rut into him faster. 

“I just, I don’t know.” You whine again, but he tsks at the answer. 

“Wanna cum on my leg? Huh? Can’t let you if you don’t know the answer.” One of his hands leaves your body to quickly unfasten his belt and unbutton his pants, pulling them down just enough to let his hardened length spring out. Your tongue lolls out at the sight on instinct, mouth watering at his pretty, purple cockhead. “Well, if my dumb, little baby doesn’t know then I’ll have to decide for you. How about that?” 

“Ah, uh-huh,” you moan out, nodding quickly when he hooks his fingers into the band of your underwear and easily rips at the flimsy fabric. A small whimper escapes your lips as he tosses the ruined material to the side and sits your lips right on top of his cock. 

“Good girl,” he groans, “Sit up, c’mon.” He helps you lift your hips to the tall height it takes for him to line his cock up with your entrance. Your thighs shake as the thick head slips in. “So tight, baby, and so wet. All for me?” He moans when your shaking hips fall about an inch down and you cry out. 

“Y-yeah, all for you! Only for you!” 

The stretch aches between your legs and you’re not even close to his lap. His long cock hook up into you, the sheer length and girth sending you into a spiral. One of his big hands is tightly wrapped around your hip, helping you up or pushing you down, you can’t tell, while the other starts drawing tight circles against your clit. 

“T-tetsu, gonna cum if you…” The rest of the words fall off your sentence.

“Shhh, I know, baby, I know.” He forces you down another few inches to his thick mid-section. Your cunt clamps around him at the sensation and he has to force himself from fucking up into you right then. The extra lengths and burn from the increased thickness sends you over the edge of your spiral and you explode around him. He can’t stop you when your hips fall and you bottom out around him, shaking and jerking all while holding him close. “That’s it, come on.” He breaths, shallowly rutting against you as your pulsing hole kept him firmly in place. 

Just as your breathing starts to even out and the spasms slow, he grabs both your hips and thrusts up, deep and hard inside of you. His pace is ruthless as he chases his own release. 

You missed him, and his cock, for good reason. Besides barely seeing him over the past few days, you hadn’t slept with each other in nearly a week. Not that he would tell you, but he hadn’t even touched himself in the last week from a combination of exhaustion and wanting to hold back just for you. 

So now, just a few minutes into fucking your dripping, tight hole, he knew he was almost finished. Part of him felt a little embarrassed, but that was quickly washed away when he glanced up at the fucked out look on your face. He buried his nose in your chest, moaning into the soft flesh of your breasts as he pulled you down into him as deep as he could go and shot himself inside of you. 

Little moans and cries from both of you fluttered around in the air while you caught your breath. His length twitched inside of you, and you lazily ground into him, milking him for all he could give you. 

For a long moment, you held each other in silence. His eyes flit down to the necklace again when you pull away and then back to your eyes. You go to say something nice, tell him how much you love him, anything, but some deeper part of you sneaks out instead. 

“That wasn’t very long.” You say simply. His soft, loving expression vanishes with slightly bewildered eyes and tight-knit brows. 

“Excuse me?” He says quietly. It’s not a question. One of his hands holds your face, squishing your cheeks together, and pulling you so your nose is nearly touching his. “You can just ask if you want to be punished, no need to be a brat. But since you want something to last, let’s see you last, baby.” 

#tw eating #kuroo x reader #kuroo smut #kuroo x you #kuro #kuro smut #kuroo tersuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro smut #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo tetsuro x reader

[mediocre--writing]

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMeknnubu/

I think I can send links but- I just saw this Pre K teacher tiktok & now all I can think of is a future AU where Steve takes like maybe a younger cousin or maybe a friends kid to school (or even his own kid??) and he walks in on fucking bad boy Billy Hargrove, still rocking his leather jacket and combat boots, seated on the carpet doing this with a bunch of Pre K kids as their teacher. Just this big mean badass dude sitting with a bunch of kids, being the best, most sweet teacher in the world

Bonus points for him having a battle jacket of some sort that he lets them add too and play with the dulled down spikes and studs on. And he has a class where the kids all make a patch one big patch for him to add to his jacket because he loves them so much

AND even more points if he just says his whole nice personality is “fake and for work only because it was the first job he got” but It’s actually real, and he really just likes being with the kids all day because their fun & they unconditionally love him, especially on his bad days where he’s sad & less motivated. I just crave soft emotional stuff 😔

steve, for as kind a fellow as he is, really should have thought twice about offering to take his nephew to pre-k every day.

jill, his older sister, had to be at work by 6 every morning during the week and had no means to take her son, patrick, to school every day.

and steve offered because what else was there to do? he worked two jobs that both started later in the day and jill offered to give him gas money to do it, so why not?

plus, patrick really was a sweetheart, he was just an energetic kid. steve preferred older kids. the younger ones tested his patience too much.

but imagine his surprise when he walks into the building, going to patrick’s classroom, turning into the doorway to see billy hargrove, same as he was when they were in high school, sitting on a colorful, patterned rug, animatedly talking to children.

“biwwy!” patrick yelled as he ran from steve’s side to his... teacher... and hugged him super tight.

“hey, patrick, my buddy!”

steve felt like this may be a dream. there is no way that billy hargrove, mullet and all, was patrick’s pre-k teacher.

billy looked to the door, where steve was still standing, and offered a smile. patrick looked to where billy was looking, excitedly telling him about how his super fun uncle was driving him to school now.

billy was engaging with the kids. he talked along with them and was able to balance all the kids at once. he looked happy, steve realized.

steve left a few moments later, making sure patrick was ok and staring at billy for a while longer.

it’s not until the day before winter break that billy and steve actually interact again.

the class is having a holiday party and parents are encouraged to come and bring food, drink, or just general supervision.

steve had made tons of cookies, enjoying his fattening hobby of baking, and they were all decorated with fun santa’s or snowflakes or christmas trees.

he was even told to make a few blank cookies and bring spare icing for kids to decorate during their party stations.

when steve got to the classroom closer to the afternoon, it was still nap time for the 15 kids in the class, all curled up on small cots and bundled in blankets.

when he came in, billy was sitting at a table near the door, organizing strings by color and had stacks of paper and boxes of markers organized the same way.

“hargrove,” steve greeted, “i made cookies, didn’t know if there were any allergies, so they’re pretty plain, no chocolate or anything. and i didn’t decorate a few, like you asked,”

“thanks,” billy didn’t look up to him, still hunched over the table detangling strings. “‘can set ‘em over there,” billy vaguely gestured.

steve went to set them on a table with a fun, winter themed cover over it.

he came back to sit by billy at the craft table because he didn’t know what else to do. plus, he didn’t want to wake any sleeping children.

“so, why are you a pre-k teacher?” steve asked.

“getting straight to the point, huh?”

“well, you look like that,” steve gestured to his embellished leather jacket, the mullet, the tight jeans (not as tight anymore, he did have to get up and down off the floor), and the hefty black boots that could probably crush a kid’s tiny fingers. “and i haven’t heard about you going through a brain reset or something, so what’s up?”

“it’s the only thing i could find,” billy grunted, not liking this conversation.

“don’t teachers have to go to college like everyone else? and have to have like a specific thing that says they’re qualified to be a teacher? seems like an awful lot of work for this to be the only thing you could find,”

“well, i can boss four year olds around all day, who wouldn’t like that job?” billy countered.

steve went to respond when there was a creak heard from behind him. one of the kids, a young girl with a wild head of hair, was walking over to billy with her blanket still wrapped over her shoulders.

“hey, jeanie, what’s wrong, doll?” billy asked, drawing his eyes away from the tangled string, which he didn’t do when talking to steve. he was giving the girl— jeanie— his full attention.

“i woke up,” jeanie said as she made her way closer to billy, “i got nightmares,”

billy’s face turned sympathetic as he put his arms out for jeanie, allowing her to crawl into his lap and rest her head on his chest while he wrapped her tight in his arms.

“wanna tell me what it was about?” billy asked, but only got a shake of her head in return, “that’s ok, you can sleep for another 10 minutes, doll. you’re safe,”

she was cuddled up in his arms, poking at the dull spikes on his shoulders and the silver buttons around the jacket. she looked utterly peaceful as she started to doze off again.

billy was so gentle with the little girl, adjusting her in his arms, making sure she was stable in his lap, before moving one arm back to the string, as if doing it one armed would be easier than before.

“i can do it,” steve offered in a hushed tone, “the string. i can untangle it for you,”

billy slid the string ball over to steve’s side of the table and let him take a crack at it while he started rubbing jeanie’s back.

steve had managed to get the string ball undone in the 10 minutes of nap time they had left. the boys didn’t talk through those 10 minutes, but steve would sneak glances over at billy often.

billy, for someone who tried to run a group of kids over once upon a time, was really great with younger kids. he was able to keep jeanie asleep, even when he moved an arm or straightened his back, something steve couldn’t do with patrick.

another parent showed up right when nap time was going to end, carrying bags of board games and such.

two more parents showed after the kids had woken up, and soon the party was in full swing. the kids were having a delightful time, half of them covered in glitter and icing, but nothing a good bath won’t fix.

billy was thriving in the chaos of four year olds, making sure they were following directions but still having fun, keeping the morale up and excitement high.

the parents seemed to love him, from what steve heard. one parent, wendy, even said that she didn’t like billy to begin with, thought he would be irresponsible and mean, but her kid loves him.

billy, for as much of a big guy as he was, didn’t seem to tower over kids menacingly when standing at full height. and it didn’t seem taunting when he would crouch down. he was on their level, in many ways.

once parents started taking kids home at the end of the day, billy, steve, and patrick were left to help clean up, though patrick was knocked out on the multicolored rug, he’d used up a lot of energy that afternoon.

“so, what do you want me to do?” steve asked, watching billy sweep the floors.

“you can leave if you want, i’ve got it. plus, pat seems to be knocked out, huh?”

“he’s already sleeping, and i feel really bad leaving you to clean everything.”

billy sighed, looking around at the disaster that was his room, “could you start wiping down tables? clorox and paper towels are in the far right cabinet, second shelf,”

they got to work and the whole classroom was clean within the hour. billy was throwing his bag over his shoulder and steve was carrying patrick in his arms as they walked out to their cars.

“do you mind opening my door?” steve asked after many attempts to get patrick adjusted in his arms to move and open the back door.

billy moved over to open the back door of steve’s car before walking back over to his car, the same car he’d been driving since high school.

i guess people really never change, steve thought.

once he got patrick settled into his car seat and got the car running to warm it up before he drove home, steve stood and talked to billy for a few minutes. just casual conversation, a thanks from billy for steve’s help.

“would you, maybe, wanna go get a drink or something some time?” steve asked, awkward as ever.

the rest was history, steve and billy would see each other for a date every weekend and they’d wave to the other in the mornings and afternoons.

they had a similar situation when the spring party came, steve bringing decorated and undecorated cookies for the kids and showing up during their nap time.

but steve had something in his bag that he wouldn’t let billy see.

through the party, steve would bring the mystery item to each kid, making extra sure that billy never saw it.

even at their date that weekend, billy couldn’t get it out of steve to find out what it was.

at the very end of the year, they have another party (and steve does not remember his pre-k days, but he doesn’t think they had this many parties).

billy has been weird the past week, finally realizing that he’s not gonna see these kids often, if at all, anymore. he’d grown very attached.

but, in true billy manner, he refused to let anyone know he was upset about a bunch of toddlers.

that’s where steve’s secret came in handy.

you see, on that day of the spring party, steve had gotten a piece of paper and has each kid sign it in a different color. he’d brought it to a small shop and they’d been able to transfer it onto a patch, one for billy’s jacket.

it was scaled down to be the size of an index card, but all the names were still legible.

when they’d given it to billy at the end of the day, before kids went home, billy almost cried.

he loved the kids so much and loved the connection and impact they have had on him without him knowing. he’s gonna miss rocking jeanie to sleep three times a week because she can never stay asleep alone.

he’s gonna miss the chaos that this group of children, specifically, brought. they made his day great, even if he was feeling especially shitty.

they helped him feel good about himself. kids don’t lie, that’s for sure, and billy created such a strong bond with them that all their thanks and love will be forever ingrained onto his heart.

#stranger things #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #teacher billy #mediocre—writing #mw harringrove

[retrievablememories]

a day with you | taeyong (m)

title: a day with you pairing: taeyong x reader genre: fluff, smut, friends to lovers summary: you spend your birthday with one of your closest friends—lee taeyong. word count: 4.7k warnings: fingering, oral sex (female receiving), PIV sex, a lil dirty talk a/n: i know he can’t drive(?) but let’s pretend lol. some parts of this fic are little vague and you’ll see what i mean but that’s so you can imagine your own preferences

Taeyong wakes up first thing in the morning with you already on his mind. 

He can’t help but smile to himself as he thinks about spending time with you on a day as special as this—your birthday. He doesn’t always get to spend as much time with you as he’d like because of his neverendingly busy schedule, but this is one day he wouldn’t miss.

Wiping his blurry eyes, he reaches for his phone and opens the text message box with your name on it.

To: Y/N Hi sleepyhead~ are you awake yet? Probably not. But i’m coming to get you soon ^^

Taeyong takes a shower and dresses himself, all while still thinking of you. Once he’s ready to his liking, he leaves the dorm to drive to your favorite breakfast place nearby. The sun is just making its appearance over the horizon, warming the land and making everything seem brand new again.

When Taeyong arrives at your place with food in hand, it’s still fairly early in the morning. As he predicted, you aren’t awake yet—at least not fully. It takes you a minute to answer the door, and only after he knocks incessantly. When you do, you’re still in your pajamas from last night.

“I’m guessing you didn’t see my message?” He laughs and pats your head.

“Honestly, I was knocked out…sorry, Yongie,” you say, stifling a yawn. You move aside so he can come in and close the door after him. Suddenly awakened by the smell of food wafting past your nose, you follow Taeyong into the kitchen. “But I see you have food...what’d you bring me?”

“Only your favorite, of course. What else would I get the birthday girl on her special day?”

“You know me so well,” you say, giving Taeyong a side hug before diving into the bag to get your meal. You and Taeyong eat together at the table, enjoying each other’s company. You’re still a bit sleepy so you don’t say much, but Taeyong doesn’t mind. He likes seeing you enjoying your food, and it makes him happy to treat you to gestures like this.

Once you finish eating, you slide out of your seat and stretch. “Wow, that was great. Thank you Yongie,” you giggle, pinching his cheek. He blushes at your attention and shrugs bashfully.

“I’m gonna go take a shower and get dressed now. Can you tell me where we’re going so I know how to dress at least? A hint? Pleaseee?”

“Not yet! You’ll see when we get there,” Taeyong says smugly, putting his arms behind his head. “It’s not just one place anyway, so it doesn’t really matter what you wear.”

“Oh, fine. You won’t be too bored without me, right?” you ask, turning to look at him from the bedroom doorway. 

“I’m fine Y/N, I can handle myself for an hour while you get ready.” He chuckles.

“If you insist!”

Once you’re ready, you and Taeyong go out to his car and take off to wherever the first destination is, which you’re excited to find out. You watch the scenery go by as you travel there.

“I hope work’s been treating you well,” you say, turning back to look at Taeyong.

“You don’t have to worry about me today,” he insists.

“I’m always gonna worry about you!” You put your hand on his leg, and his eyes widen a tad at that. “I know it’s hard sometimes. You said you wanted to make me happy—knowing you’re doing okay is what makes me happy.”

A grin spreads across his face. Taeyong glances at you and places his hand on yours. “I’m doing fine. Promise.” He nudges his pinky finger under yours, linking them together. “I wouldn’t lie to you!”

You squeeze his pinky finger back. “I’m trusting you. If I hear you’re overworking yourself again, I’m gonna force you to take a vacation. Just watch!”

You start to realize where you’re headed pretty soon when the city’s scenery gives way to more greenery. This lake, and the park it’s located in, is one of your favorite places to hang out with Taeyong, although you haven’t been there lately because he’s been so busy with work.

“Remember the first time we came here?” you ask, gazing at the lake’s surface glittering from between the trees.

“That was such a fun day. I didn’t even know this place existed back then...it feels like a hundred years ago now, though.”

Once the car is in the parking lot, you two head to the boardwalk. A good portion of it extends out into the lake itself before meeting the shore again and trailing off onto a nature trail among the trees. You walk along the portion that sits over the lake, stopping every so often to watch the water lap at the wooden posts. There are only a few other people out here besides you two; it’s still too early for the afternoon crowds.

Taeyong stands beside you as you peer into the waters, his hair blowing across his face from the cool breeze.

“You should drop in a coin. Make a wish or something.”

“I thought that was only for fountains?”

“Maybe it’ll work here, too.” He leans forward to see both of your reflections staring back at him.

You giggle. “The fish will get mad at me. I think I’ll pass on that one. We should go see the trail though, there’s a flower bush there...I know you remember it.”

“The one that has those flowers with the funny-looking petals?”

“Yes! I wanna take a picture of it,” you say, already feet ahead of Taeyong. “Come on, or you’re getting left behind!”

You and Taeyong end up walking through the park for a couple of hours; it offers enough land to trek through for days and still be able to find something new every hour. With the sun rising higher in the sky, the temperature quickly starts shooting up. You wipe the sweat away from your forehead, stopping underneath a tree near the side of the park that faces the main road.

You’ve stayed in the park long enough for other people and food trucks to start appearing, and there’s already a line of different vendors camping along the sidewalk.

“I’m hot. We need some ice cream,” you sigh dramatically, leaning against the tree for strength.

“Come on, there’s an ice cream truck down the road.”

Taeyong pays for both your ice creams and you walk along the edge of the park after getting them, eating happily and pointing out birds and flowers to each other every few minutes.

The heat does a number on your ice cream, making it melt onto your hand before you’re even halfway through with the cone. “Damn.” You look at the sticky mess covering your hand. “I should’ve gotten a napkin! Hold on, I’ll just go—”

“Wait.” Taeyong grabs your arm. Before you can ask what he’s doing, he bends his head to lick the ice cream dripping across your fingers. Your eyes grow big, and you stutter trying to think of how to respond, but you end up merely watching him.

He soon pulls back after he finishes his job on your hand. “See? All gone now,” he grins, but his smile comes out more nervous than he intended. The atmosphere isn’t awkward, per se, but it’s definitely more tense than it was a few minutes ago.

“You’re ridiculous,” you say weakly, trying to ignore the heat flooding through your body at his actions. “Don’t get us kicked out of here for public indecency!”

After you finish your ice cream, you and Taeyong decide to leave the park before you melt into the pavement. You stretch your hands in front of the air vents when you get back into his car, letting the pleasant chill run up your arms as he pulls out of the parking lot.

“Where are we going now?” you ask, pressing your hand to the window. The park’s green scenery grows sparse and gives way to roads and familiar hardscapes, which means you’re probably heading to the busiest part of the city.

“Will you ever let me give you a surprise?” Taeyong whines, laughing. “I’ll give you one hint: you’ll need my credit card for it.”

“You mean mine?”

“No way, mine. You can buy whatever you want today, all on me. I already know what you’re thinking, but seriously, it’s fine; charge however much you want.”

“You’re too good to me, seriously. How did I find someone like you?”

“Luck, maybe.”

As you suspected, Taeyong takes you to the busier—and also more expensive—part of the city, packed with shops and boutiques on every corner and filled with people walking to and fro.

When you get out, you and Taeyong stand on the sidewalk gazing at the different stores. “I don’t know where to start,” you admit, gazing at the numerous options laid out in front of you. “You’re all into this luxury stuff, give me a recommendation for something.”

“Are you sure?”

“Please?”

“Okay, here.” Taeyong pulls you to the first clothing store he sees, which happens to be Chanel. You haven’t been in here before, so you’re a bit taken aback at how spacious it is...and how just many clothes there are.

“Wow. I could probably shop forever and still not buy everything,” you say jokingly, drifting away from Taeyong to go over to a jacket that catches your eye.

You spend a lot of time going through the store—and the ones after that—trying to decide what you like. Taeyong buys you a few things from each one. He gives you suggestions at every place you stop in, but at the last store, he becomes drawn to a particular dress hanging on the rack. It’s black with big daisy patterns all over it, and the skirt is made of a flowing, silky material.

“Do you see something you like?” You peek over his shoulder at the dress.

“Yes, for you.” He takes it off the rack and holds it up to your body. “I think it’d look cute on you. Will you try it on?”

You give him a look before taking the dress from his hand. “Okay, let’s see how it looks.” You take it to the dressing room and undress so you can pull it on. The daisy patterns seemed a little overdone at first, but it looks better than you expected. After examining yourself in the mirror, you step outside the dressing room so Taeyong can see it.

“Well, what do you think of it?” you ask, spinning around so Taeyong can see it full-view. He taps his finger against his chin and nods, his eyes lingering on your form. 

“You should wear it. Like, for the rest of the day.”

You turn to a nearby mirror and examine the dress again. “Hmm, you really think so?”

“It’s your birthday. You deserve to look good, don’t you?”

“Geez, are you saying my previous outfit was bad?” You snort, throwing Taeyong a skeptical look over your shoulder.

“No, I��m saying...this one is even better.” He’s practically eating you up with his eyes now, and there’s no room for doubt that he means what he says. You’re a bit flustered by the way he’s looking at you, so you turn back the mirror, staring at your reflection.

“Okay, I trust your taste,” you say, willing your heart rate to calm down a little. Taeyong smirks at you in the mirror’s reflection.

You try on a couple more things before leaving the last store—or more like, Taeyong convinces you that every item would look good on you and you decide to get it because you can’t resist his puppy dog eyes.

You drop your shopping bags off at your place before heading back out again. The next stop: the movie theater. Taeyong tells you to pick a movie and promises to stay awake through the whole thing even if he dislikes it, which you roll your eyes at.

“When have you ever known me to pick a bad movie?”

“Well…”

“On second thought, don’t answer that question.”

“Are you hungry?” Taeyong asks a couple hours after you leave the theater. It’s early evening now, but there’s still daylight from the long hours of summer. You had some popcorn in the theater, but you’re ready for the main course now.

“Yes, do you have something special planned for that too?” you ask, poking him in the side. 

“Sure, but let’s go back to your place first, I think I left something there,” Taeyong says casually. You don’t suspect anything, so you happily agree, wondering where he’s gonna take you for dinner.

You get back to the building not too long after and head up the stairs to your floor with Taeyong trailing behind you. “This isn’t an excuse to look up my dress, is it?” you say jokingly, glancing back at him. Taeyong blushes at that and laughs nervously, scratching the back of his head.

“It’s not like that!”

You think Taeyong’s going to stop at your apartment once you get to it, but he keeps walking past it and towards the set of stairs that lead to the apartment’s rooftop.

“I’m hungry, Taeyong, why are we going to the roof? There isn’t any food up there,” you laugh, though you follow him as he tugs on your hand and guides you up the steps.

“You’ll see!”

When you get to the top of the stairs, Taeyong swings open the door. On the other side is your apartment’s rooftop, but it looks much different from the last time you saw it. On normal days, there’s a little hangout spot up there with tables and chairs, a fire pit, and an array of potted plants dotting each of the rooftop’s corners.

Now, there are little glowing fairy lights strung up everywhere, decorating the assortment of potted plants native to the rooftop’s decor. The chairs have been pushed to the sides of the roof to make room for a huge blanket in the middle, a quaint little picnic basket on top of it.

“Whoa,” you say, your eyes widening at the setup. “I’ve actually only been up here a few times...I guess I’ve been so busy I haven’t had proper time to appreciate it. It looks really different now...” You gaze at the city’s skyline in awe. The sun is still shining brightly, though darker oranges are already bleeding into the sky’s lighter hue in preparation for sunset. It won’t be long before the city is draped in darkness.

“Well, now you get to enjoy it with me!” Taeyong pulls you over to the blanket. The fire pit isn’t lit yet, but maybe you can do that later tonight.

“When did you even have time to set all this up, anyway? Seriously!” you ask as you and Taeyong sit down.

“I know people,” is his only explanation. “And it’s easy to pull strings when you’re cute.” He does an aegyo move and you shove him, laughing.

You and Taeyong dig into the picnic basket. “I made it myself too, ‘cause I know how much you like whatever you make.” He says this with a gentle smile.

“Ever the humble chef,” you laugh, taking the rest of the food out. There’s an array of fruits and other snacks in addition to the main meal. “Your cooking is always so good. How do you do it?” Taeyong shrugs.

“Sheer talent. Or magic. You should let me teach you one day,” Taeyong says with his mouth full.

“I should,” you say absentmindedly, looking across the skyline as you eat. “We should come up here more, too.”

After you finish the main meal, you and Taeyong feed each other pieces of fruit as he lies his head in your lap, his soft hair fanning across your bare legs. His eyes are soft as he looks up at you, and it makes your mind go warm and fuzzy with all the things you want to say to him.

Eventually, you lie back too, reclining on the soft blanket and gazing at the endless sheet of stars above you, glittering from light years away. Taeyong pulls away from you momentarily to light the fire pit, and the flames lick at the edges of your vision as you watch the starry sky.

“Do you ever think about how some of the stars have already long burned out? And their light is only just now reaching us?”

Taeyong makes a face as he settles beside you. “That’s a bit scary.”

“What if they were all gone? And there were actually no more stars left in our galaxy?” You turn your head to look at Taeyong. “What we would look at at night, then?”

Taeyong pauses for a moment before choosing his answer. “There would still be stars to look at. Like the ones here on Earth.” You smile at that.

The night gets darker as time wears on, and the temperature outside drops. Despite the warmth of the fire pit, Taeyong notices you shiver at the sudden breeze and pulls you closer to him, rubbing his hands on your arms. “Maybe we should go inside?”

“Sounds good to me, I’m starting to get a little sleepy anyway…we’ve been out all day,” you say, stretching your arms and legs. Taeyong cleans up all the food and empty containers spread around, refusing to let you lift a finger to help. Once the picnic basket is packed, you both roll off the blanket so he can fold it up and sling it over his arm. He puts the fire out and gets ready to leave with you, taking your hand. 

“What about the lights and stuff?” you ask, glancing back at the fairy lighting still dangling off the potted plants.

“Later,” Taeyong says, waving it away. “Somebody will get to enjoy it tomorrow, maybe.”

You both head back down the stairs and to your apartment. Taeyong sets the stuff down and pulls you into a hug once you both enter your place.

“Today was so fun,” you say, hugging Taeyong back and relishing the feel of his arms around you. “It was the best birthday ever. You’re the best friend anyone could have, you know?”

“I could say the same.” Taeyong murmurs. You pull away from each other, but Taeyong’s fingertips linger at the hemline of your dress; he rubs the fabric between his fingers, a thoughtful look on his face. “You look so cute in this dress...really pretty.” His hand drifts higher and his fingers skirt across your waistline, to your arm, and up your shoulder until he’s hovering at your face.

Taeyong touches the side of your face, a gentle smile on his lips. Your eyes linger on each other’s for a tense moment, and then, Taeyong steps closer and closes the gap between you, pressing his lips to yours. Maybe you should be surprised, but you’re not. Taeyong pulls your body closer, his hand sliding to the nape of your neck and into your hair, cradling the back of your head.

His lips are soft and his tongue is warm against yours. His other hand finds its way back to your skirt and drifts higher, higher, and higher underneath, dangerously close to the hemline of your underwear. He pulls away, panting against your lips, and you chase him for more. He acquiesces and gives you another hot kiss, but then breaks it to speak against your lips,

“I’ve been wanting to slip underneath this dress all day.” His fingers come around to your front, pressing into your sex. “Why do you think I picked it? In the shop...wouldn’t it have been nice if we fucked there?”

You moan at that as Taeyong’s lips drift to your jaw, then the side of your neck. You grip Taeyong’s wrist, bringing his hand closer, pressing his knuckles to your clit. You shudder, and Taeyong responds by dragging his fingers over that spot more firmly, feeling you grow wetter and warmer against him.

“Sit on the couch for me, baby.” Taeyong guides you backwards until your knees hit the back of the couch. Your dress spreads out around you as you sit, and Taeyong kneels in front of you, dragging the fabric higher to rest above your thighs. He leans closer to lay soft kisses over your inner thighs, his fingers pressing into the skin as he pulls your body closer to his mouth. You tremble and press your back against the couch when he mouths at your clit through your underwear.

“Taeyong…” He licks you slowly through your underwear and you have to resist the urge to close your legs around his head as his tongue dances over your clit. He pulls back, looking up at you deviously, only to hook his fingers into your underwear and pull them down. You lift your hips to help him, and he holds you firmly in his grip, bringing your pussy closer to meet his warm and wanting mouth. You gasp at the feeling of his lips on your bare skin, pushing your hand through his hair, wanting him to bury himself inside you.

He slips a finger into you as he licks you and makes you pliable, and then he adds another as he presses them upwards to find the spot that will have you shaking for him. Taeyong finds it soon after and keeps thrusting into it as he lets his tongue trace circles over and over your clit, drawing out more moans and whines from you.

You’re wet and sticky with pleasure at this point, moving your hips along with Taeyong’s movements to draw out as much ecstasy as you can. You feel the orgasm building in your lower body as you grind yourself onto Taeyong’s fingers, and he brings you nearer to it until you’re teetering on the edge.

You tip over the precipice when Taeyong moans into you like you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted and wiggles his fingers against your spot a little harder. You come hard on his fingers and face, and all you can do is grab onto his free hand for support as your legs shake and your stomach tenses from the waves of bliss flowing through you. When Taeyong thinks you’ve had enough, he pulls away from you with his face glistening. He licks his lips clean and lets go of your thighs, letting your relaxed form rest against the couch.

“Let’s go to your room,” he says, and gathers you up in his arms, taking you down the hall to where your bedroom is. He lays you gently on the bed and you watch with anticipation thrumming through your body as he sheds his clothing in front of you until he’s down to his underwear. Though you’ve just come, you’re already leaking and ready for him to pleasure you again.

His hands come up to your body to peel away your dress, and he guides you to lie back on the middle of the bed as his lips cover each new section of exposed skin. He kneads your breasts once they’re revealed to him, pinching your nipples and sucking them between his soft lips, teasing them into hard peaks. His mouth is indescribably warm and wet against your body, his hands equally as soft and gentle as they roam over your waist, down to your hips and legs and back again.

You take Taeyong’s chin between your fingers and bring his face back up to yours so you can kiss his lips and whisper in his ear, “Taeyong, please. I want you.”

Taeyong parts from you for a moment to grab a condom from his jeans, and once he rolls it on he settles between your legs with his cock nudging against your lower lips. He thrusts his hips against you, his tip catching on your entrance, and he keeps rocking himself until he’s fully seated inside of you, both of you moaning from the sensation of filling and being filled.

“You feel so good,” Taeyong murmurs into the side of your neck. He pushes into you slowly, wanting to feel every inch of you around him. With so many sensations flowing through you at once, you’re unsure where to put your hands, and they drift across Taeyong’s back aimlessly. The muscles there clench under your palms as he thrusts into you.

He is tender as he holds you close, kissing you wherever he can and moaning softly in your ear. This is not how you thought your night would end, but you have no complaints as Taeyong fills you over and over again, his hand sliding down your body to rub against your clit. You squeeze his shoulders, your nails pricking his skin slightly as the pleasure doubles inside you.

Droplets of sweat gather at his hairline and at the sides of his face, making the strands stick to his skin. You wipe these away as he looks into your eyes and strokes into you, his hips moving with more vigor as he gets more intense and feels the beginnings of his orgasm creeping up on him.

“I’m close,” Taeyong groans.

“Taeyong…” you sigh and arch against him as your climax overtakes you first, flooding through your body like liquid gold and making you tense and shiver around him.

Taeyong shudders against you when he comes, pulling your body closer to his and lowering his head onto your shoulder as he rides out the throes of pleasure. You both hold onto each other as if you’ll drift away otherwise, your arms tight around him as you listen to his heavy breaths.

He eventually rolls away from you to dispose of the condom. When he comes back, he pulls the bed covers back and draws you into his arms. You cuddle close together, and you can hear his heartbeat steadily next to your ear.

“You know I love you, right?” Taeyong asks quietly, drawing his index finger along your side. It tickles, but you don’t mind much as long as he’s touching you.

“Do you know I love you?” you say back, your lips moving against his collarbone as you speak. He brings his hand up to your hair, breathing in your scent.

“Mmm...maybe.” His body shakes with laughter. “I think maybe I knew it all along.”

“Me too,” you say, closing your eyes. Tiredness sweeps over you, and you know you’ll have to talk more in the morning, but right now you are more than content to leave things as they are. “Maybe we were made for each other.”

#taeyong smut #taeyong fluff #taeyong scenarios #taeyong imagines #taeyong fic #nct smut #nct fic #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 fic #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 smut #nct 127 fluff #taeyong #nct 127

[icollectyoursins]

Gift Headcanons Melone x Reader

Look. I know the holidays have just passed, but I am unashamedly a SIMP for all of La Squadra and I wanna give them gifts. I just love them. So here, have some (mostly) tender gift giving and receiving for da boyz. I’m excluding Sorbet and Gelato because I know next to nothing about them, sorry!

This one was very hard to keep this one SFW, but I tried!

Risotto 

Prosciutto

Pesci

Illuso

Formaggio

Ghiaccio

Have a character, but no idea? Prompt list here!

Looking for more? Master post here!

WARNINGS: Mostly SFW, second bit is light NSFW, no sex, but lingerie is involved.

Word Count: 1559

Giving:

Melone is uh... gross, so most of his gifts are sort of sexual, even if you don’t know it (like very large heels). That being said, he does give some sweet gifts every now and then! It’s always something you’ve been eying for a while or boasting about and 100% a pleasant surprise that makes the nasty things so worth it.

He loves getting you jewelry! Anything from earrings, rings, bracelets, necklaces, body piercings, body jewelry that wraps around you. He just loves making you shine! Or, he’ll impress you with fancy drinks in ridiculous bottles (looking at you Crystal Head Vodka), weird things that he can enjoy with you and then use to decorate the house with. Also (unsurprisingly) lingerie. Any kind that looks good on you he will get it.

He’s honestly a mix of both private and open when giving gifts. You’re together and close, but not 100% alone. He wants a few people to see how happy you two are.

     You sat on the couch with a phone in one hand scrolling through social media while the other idly rubbed circles into Melone’s back. He was hunched over his computer, typing various commands with nimble fingers. It had been so far into the relationship at this point that you didn’t even bother asking what he was doing. You were just there to make sure he didn’t mess up his back too much.

     Suddenly, he sat up, stretching out his back before looking over to you, head still tilted back slightly. He smiled in a way that would have been sweet if it wasn’t Melone, but you got the message. You think.

     “I have something for you, mio caro/mia cara. Would you like it?” He purred. There was something about the sparkle in his pretty blue/green eyes that made you curious and hesitant at the same time.

     “That depends. Am I going to like it?” You teased, letting out a light chuckle which he returned.

     “Of course!” He said, voice full of false defensiveness. “When have I ever given you something you didn’t like?”

     “Do you want a list? I can give you a list!” He laughed again, getting off the couch, waving his hand dismissively at you.

     “No, no need for a list. Just stay where you are, I’ll be back.” Melone kissed the top of your head as he passed behind you. “Oh, and close your eyes.”

     You couldn’t even get out a final quip or protest. He was through the doorway with a coy wink and a smile. You rolled your eyes before closing them, waiting patiently for him to return, though you did look at your phone one time while waiting. What can you say? He took a little longer than you expected and so you had some extra time!

     Finally, he came back with two gifts in hand. One long, slender gift bag which you assumed had some kind of alcohol in it and the other was a thin box wrapped in ribbon. The grin on his face said that this was either innocent, harmless gifts, or something a little on the more devious side. You couldn’t quite tell.

     He swiftly made his way back to the couch, placing the box in your hand while he began showing off the mystery contents of the bag. With slow elegance, he pulled out a rather odd and sensual liquor bottle. He presents it to you on an open palm. From the clearness, you could tell that it was probably vodka or something like that. The bottle was a glass-blown pinup of a woman with her arms folded over her head. Definitely vodka. Only people who made vodka would be this extra. And only Melone would buy a bottle of a naked woman.

     The wicked grin on his face told you that he was very proud of this piece. You laughed light-heartedly, examining the bottle in your hands.

     “Well, it’s certainly unusual!” You mused. “As long as the drink is good, I don’t care!” He grinned, licking his lips as his eyes drifted down to the box. This was his favourite part of tonight. Unless something else were to happen, but that was entirely up to you. 

     Setting the bottle down on the coffee table you moved on, pulling the bow apart with ease. Taking the lid off revealed a thin layer of tissue paper with holographic dots on it, how cute. Underneath was-

     “Melone!” You shrieked. He only chuckled. 

     “There’s more than that, amor mio/amore mio. Here, let me!” He reached it, pulling out a beautiful, delicate gold chain that looked as though it wrapped around your torso with smaller chains crossing over your chest. There was a matching bottom too, with glittering gold hanging off what would be your hips if you were wearing it.

     “Oh, Melone!” Ah, there it was, that wonderful joy only he could bring out. Like music to his ears! “They’re beautiful, thank you so much!”

     He swiftly caught you in a hug, pulling you close to him before he brought your face up to his, pulling you into a passionate kiss that left you breathless. Everyone around you who was staring turned away, giving you a little bit of privacy.

Receiving:

Oh my god, does this man love being spoiled. Melone will love pretty much anything you give him. Honestly, probably was sugar baby at some point (or maybe he’s yours), but yeah, happy receiving lots and lots of gifts from you.

I can see him enjoying sweet things with whipped cream and strawberries, lots of sparkly things and shiny things. Basically, anything he would get you, he would also enjoy receiving. If it’s something you can use erm... together *wink wink* he is, like, basically drooling already.

Does not care how you give him the gift, though if you have the guts to give him that kind of gift in front of people, he will absolutely feel something stir in him. But for the most part, he’s happy with anything.

     You adjusted your “outfit” in the mirror while you were waiting for Melone to find your little treasure hunt. It wasn’t much, just a few small notes hinting towards something more and more as he got closer.

     It started at the door with a cookie and a note telling him to follow the trail to his gift. Once he read it, he was excited in more ways than one. He followed the notes around the house. Some told him to do chores like fold the laundry to get to the bottom where the next clue was, or water the plants.

     He loved every minute of it, happily pairing each sock with its missing partner and smoothing out any creases in shirts. A sweet tune hummed from his chest while he sprayed each delicate flower, smelling the sweet scent until he got dizzy and feeling each leaf to make sure it was healthy before moving onto the next. It was agonizingly slow for both of you, though that was the point. If you were going to tease him all the way to the bedroom, then he was going to make you sit and wait.

     Melone’s eyes flicked up to the clock. He’d been there an hour already. Poor thing must be so tired waiting. But, he still has more chores to do, right? His suspicions were confirmed when he found another note, hidden in a succulent, telling him to grab something from the fridge.

     “Di molto! I wonder what that could be?” He asked the air sarcastically before practically skipping to the fridge where he found another slip of paper saying to look for something sweet and light. A hummed chuckle buzzed on his lips. “Hmm, sweet and light. Sweet and light. I wonder what that could be?”

     You rolled your eyes. The kitchen wasn’t too far from where you were hidden in the bedroom, so you could hear every exaggerated word that he said. You scoffed, muttering out some kind of insult under your breath.

     “Sweet and- Ah! This will be perfect.” He mused, grabbing 2 things from the fridge. You hoped one of them wasn’t honey, but then again, who would keep honey in the fridge? Honestly, probably Melone. Not for any particular reason, just because!

     The door was closed with a joking hip jerk. He didn’t even bother looking for the next clues. He just made his way straight to the bedroom, calling out to you as he entered. You were nowhere to be found, much to his dismay. However, he did find the box you left for him on the bed.

     Eagerly, he tossed what was in his arms onto the bed, then the box lid as he plunged into the gift. His eyes grew wide as he pulled out a harness he’d only been dreaming about using for years. A sound of pleasure rolled through his body. That’s when you came out of your hiding spot, wrapping your arms around him from behind.

     “Oh, you spoil me, mio caro/mia cara!”

     “I know, just don’t get whipped cream on the bed. Or strawberry leaves.” Melone laughed darkly, turning around and wrapping his arms around you.

     “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he whispered against your lips before smashing into them gently. As far as he was concerned, he would do whatever you wanted after tonight!

-----

Translations:

mio caro/mia cara = my darling (masc and fem)

amor mio/amore mio = my love (masc and fem)

#melone #melone x reader #melone jojo #melone prompts #sfw

[alilbihh]

hocus pocus — epilogue

masterlist  previous part 

pairing: maknae line x reader

summary: jungkook wags his tail and his eyes look like truffles. jimin drinks blood out of juice boxes and bendy straws and tries to wink but ends up blinking both his eyes closed. taehyung likes the ocean and all kinds of art and apologizes to rocks. you don’t know if they want to take you out the date way or the assassination way and somehow you think it’s both.

genre: werewolf!jungkook, vampire!jimin, hybrid!taehyung, witch!reader; humor (??); poly!au (in the future!)

words: 7k

"Sit still, you're making me ruin them." Taehyung whines, and you make sure to still until he nods in satisfaction.

"M'sorry." You mutter, but he just carefully kisses your wrist. You take it as answer enough.

He slowly sets your hand down on his thigh, tucking the brush into the nail polish before lifting your hand to his eyes and fixing his little mistake. He's painting your nails black, a color that was ultimately decided by Jimin. Jungkook wanted to go for pink, a choice he thinks suits your aesthetic, whatever that might mean.

Taehyung shifts a bit, the nail polish standing open and uncapped right next to him wobbling dangerously. "Careful, careful, the bedsheets," you hiss, trying not to shriek and flail your arms, "That was, like, my one condition when letting you paint my nails on my bed."

"S'fine, it won't spill, honest." He murmurs, a smile trickling up his face when you huff.

His legs are sprawled awkwardly around your hips, his feet carefully in a position where they won't bump into anything to let the painted black of his toenails dry off. It's a stark contrast to the now deep pink of his hair, but he wanted to join you regardless. Makes your heart hurt. You'd kissed him right on the nose for that.

You want to kiss his nose now, actually. His brows are furrowed in concentration and his lips are pursed into a little pout, hair falling over his eyes. You want to kiss the dip between his brows, the purse of his lips. You almost do, catch yourself leaning forward because it's-- easy. It's easy now, to act on your instincts, to not have to hold back, to want. But then you remember the context doesn't allow it, and you sit back with a huff right as he starts working on your pinkie.

Taehyung laughs fully, breaking into giggles, gently says, "hey, now," and sets your hand down to peck your lips once, twice, thrice-- pulls back with a shriek when your hands start instinctively reaching to comb through his hair and tug him back, "Hand, hand, hand, hand! Hand!"

He doesn't allow kisses anymore.

You're pouting as you watch him fix his own nails, expertly removing the now chipped, light blue color that was previously adorning them. He still has some eyeliner on, a pretty pink on his cheeks. The top three buttons of his shirt are undone, purposely or not, you'll never know. There's purple peeking out on the honey of his skin, mostly hidden just under the collar of his shirt.

He's beautiful. He's beautiful, and he's your boyfriend, and you want to kiss him, goddammit.

Your hands are still carefully positioned so as to not ruin your drying nails as you shuffle closer to him, batting your lashes and waiting. It takes a few seconds of the man fighting back a smile before he pauses to turn towards you, amused, "Can I help you?"

You make a sound, like a whine and a groan all rolled into one, and maybe the word kiss gets stuck in there somewhere but you can't be too sure. Taehyung understands regardless, grins this tiny little thing that grows big, spreads both his cheeks wide.

He levels you with a look but still seems to be weighing his options. To kiss or not to kiss. "My nails," is all he ends up saying, more of a whine than anything.

You don't say anything, just stare determinedly into his eyes. He stares back, raising a brow, a challenge if you've ever seen one. You stare. There's a bit of glitter on his eyelashes, you think. Too long lashes, if you have anything to say about it. You should not be getting this overwhelmed over eyelashes.

It takes a second, then Taehyung sighs; giving in. Gives your chin a little tickle before leaning in. "M'thinking of getting a tattoo." He murmurs against your lips, presses another kiss there just because he can. His eyelashes flutter against your cheeks. "Whaddya think?"

You hum, quick and surprised, then pleased. "I'm all about letting you do things that make you happy, but just know that if you decide not to get this tattoo, I will be highly upset."

He barks out a laugh, throws his head back, a very Jimin-like gesture. "Highly?"

"Highly. Deeply." He laughs again at that and you smile, lean your head against his chest, listen as his heart beat, beat, beats-- beats faster, even, as you press a kiss to the dip of his collarbone, once then twice then thrice. "Seriously though, you'd look beautiful. If you want, go for it. Jimin and Jungkook will know all about it."

Taehyung's cheeks color as he looks down, shakes his head so his hair falls over his eyes. You laugh, suddenly thinking of peppering kisses over Jimin's own tattoo, the Nevermind sitting big and pretty over the man's ribs. Jungkook, too, the many tattoos spread over his hands and his chest and his back.

"Today's brunch day," you say, brushing Taehyung's fringe from his eyes with the palm of your hand-- with great difficulty. "You should come."

"I would, but I have work. Wanna finish my painting, too." He says, completely in pout. "I'm halfway through but I don't know if I like how it's turning out."

"I'm sure it's beautiful." You say because it's true, his paintings always are, always pretty and colorful and meaningful. He paints a lot of things. Paints Jimin, his cheeks sore from smiling. Paints Jungkook, eyes puffy with sleep. Paints you too, standing in a field of leaves painted oranges and reds, or even just doing the most mundane thing possible, like chopping up a bowl of pomegranates.

You smile at the thought, lean in to kiss the mole on his nose even while he continues, "I'll show you when I'm done. Hopefully before I maybe possibly definitely get my tattoo."

"What tattoo are you getting, anyway?"

"Not sure," He says, brows furrowed. He's carefully brushing the nail strengthener over your newly colored nails, eyes flirting here and there quick. "Maybe, like.. A peach tattooed on my ass. Or maybe just ‘property of Y/n L/n.’"

"Taehyung!" You exclaim, horrified, but he only smiles and bursts into a fit of giggles.

He leans backwards and the nail polish falls over before you even have the chance to scream, and you release a long winded shriek that only makes him laugh harder. Taehyung later offers to kiss it better and it doesn't help fix your now ruined bed sheets, but it's maybe a little nice. Maybe.

"You don't all have to come, obviously, but like-- You're all coming, right?"

"I thought he was trying to act humble for a second, wow." Jungkook says and Jimin laughs, covers it with a hand. It's so endearing you think your heart clenches for a few seconds too long.

You don't all have brunch together every day because that isn't a wise economical investment and your schedules don't always allow it and honestly, 3 pm is a bit late for brunch anyway, too late for it to be considered brunch at all, but Taehyung says it's an excuse to feast on breakfast foods and you aren't one to object to that.

So you all meet up for not-brunch sometimes, all of you together, hunched in the plush red seats in the corner of what started as Jungkook's favorite little waffle place. Taehyung and Jungkook's goal is to eat through the menu and you and Jimin are kinda just in it for the ride.

"Of course we're coming, dummy," you say with furrowed brows, "Me and Jungkook are literally in the process of making you a banner for when you do the sexy snake part."

"You're making a what."

"Noona, that was supposed to be a secret," Jungkook leans over the table to whisper, then says to Jimin, "On a completely unrelated note, hyung, do you prefer pink and yellow together, or blue and yellow together? Those were the only crayons me and Y/n could find in the store so I need to know."

"You're all insufferable."

Jimin had just recently gotten a solo act in his dance course, and so you're all obviously going to be supporting him. You’d invited Yoongi and Jin and Namjoon, too, and so they all wanted to meet him beforehand and were all delighted to finally see both Taehyung and the dance major in person.

You were a bit uncomfortable about it because you really care about them all and really wanted them to like each other. And it's difficult to be uncomfortable in Seokjin's presence because he has a third eye for when people are feeling like that, and so he usually either A: sacrifices himself for a laugh or B: exploits every weakness you have to make you even more uncomfortable to make you realize how you really shouldn't be feeling uncomfortable in the first place.

He was in a B mood that night.

("So Jimin-ah," he starts, raising his voice to gather everyone's attention, "I hear you have very soft hands."

You think Jimin had turned to you for an explanation but you'd been shoving the equivalent of three lettuce wraps into your mouth to avoid speaking. That and you'd hidden behind Yoongi, but it's kind of difficult considering he'd been slouching his entire life and had practically made it into an art form.

Namjoon lets out a few semi-embarrassed ha-ha's on his boyfriend's behalf.

"Do I?" Jimin mumbles, prodding at his own hand.

"Can I feel?" Jin says, making grabby hands in Jimin's direction even though they met all of thirty minutes ago.)

"Hey, it's horny boy!" Jungkook greets with a snicker as Taehyung (rather reluctantly) trudges towards your table, plastering the customary customer service smile. It's supposed to look forced but it looks too soft on him, you think. Too fond.

You catch his eye, catch him trying to hold back a smile. To pretend he's not associated with any of you, most likely.

He's wearing his work uniform, long black pants and a flannel shirt with a little shirt pocket. There are feather earrings drooping on his ears that go long, almost reach his shoulder blades, tickle his neck. There are fairy lights circling his antlers, and it was meant to be festive in the beginning but it's mid march and he's still adamant on using it. Something about how Christmas lives on in his heart.

Taehyung looks one way then the other, as if to survey his surroundings, before bumping your hip with his as a gesture for you to scooch over. You comply, the hybrid settling beside you on the rather comfy cushion, proceeding to immediately kick Jungkook from beneath the table.

There's a yell and a laugh and then the two are playing footsie rather aggressively, Jungkook sinking in his seat and everything while ignoring the rather distressed Jimin beside him. You're all causing a public embarrassment but you're all laughing so you can't quite bring yourself to care.

Jimin turns to you, deadpans, "Do you know them?"

"Absolutely not."

He takes a long sip of his boba, as if to contemplate, then says, "Should we stop them?"

"Absolutely not." You both grin.

It stops eventually, Jungkook making soft little whines as he crosses his arms indignantly. Taehyung giggles and leans over the table to kiss him and makes a big show of it, too-- puckering his lips the closer he gets. They giggle into each other's mouths and you feel an overwhelming fondness swell up inside you, pushing up, up, until you're grinning and it hurts to breathe.

"What were you guys talking about when I wasn't here?" He asks, pauses. Smacks his lips together for a second, turns to Jungkook in question, "Are you wearing lip balm?"

"Yeah," Jungkook says as if it's obvious, "Always gotta be prepared."

"Hm. Cherry?"

"Strawberry, actually."

"Nice." They fist bump. "What were we saying?"

You snort, "We were talking about the sexy snake before you got here."

Taehyung makes a noise, swallowing his drink quickly before he says, "The sexy snake! He's always practicing it at home. Whenever I walk in it always looks like he's doing something nasty to the ground."

"Well you always walk in at the wrong time!" The man in question says, indignant, chugging down his boba to not have to look you all in the eye. "I don't know why you all call it the sexy snake, anyway. I don't look like a snake." You laugh when he leaves out the sexy part.

"You kinda do." Jungkook says, voice a bit muffled, the straw of his boba still between his lips.

"It's something like this," Taehyung does this little wiggle in his seat, meant to copy the infamous sexy snake, and it looks all kinds of awkward but you and Jungkook giggle anyway and he grins big.

Jimin purses his lips, as if to keep himself from laughing, then says, "I don't look like that. Y/n, I don't look like that, right?"

"No thoughts head empty."

"Y/n!"

It's then you're all arriving home, Jimin tripping over the stairs with a giggle, Taehyung trying to convince you to get waffles with him tomorrow as you turn just enough to watch him, to feel your heart swell with every word. Jungkook, his hand spread over your back, giving your bum a few pats when you lean in to press a kiss to his cheek.

You don't know what it is, but you feel--alive. More alive than usual. You're not sure how to explain it to someone if they were to ask, but these days you've been almost painfully aware that you're a person, and that you're alive. Grounded. Very of the Earth. Very aware of every little thing that's happening to you, as if you hadn't been paying attention before.

You turn up the heat of the oven, the concoction bubbling and popping and gurgling in the cauldron as you stir. When you raise a spoonful to your mouth, you taste nectar and ambrosia, peaches and pomegranates. Taste something that's a little dry, too.

You pour it in an empty wine bottle you'd kept for this exact occasion and walk back to your living room. "Look guys, I made wine with everything except grapes! I'm practically Jesus."

Jimin's the first to laugh. First to make grabby hands in your general direction, too. "Gimme."

You hand the vampire the bottle, about to turn around and grab a few glasses lying around somewhere until Jimin drinks it straight out the bottle and that's that.

"Can you teach me how to make this later, love?" He asks as you settle beside him, an arm snaking around your waist to pull you closer. Jungkook's making surprisingly quiet conversation with Taehyung, but turns just enough to raise a leg to rest over yours. You giggle and he pinches you, but you think he's smiling before he looks away.

"I would but it's kinda hard. Doesn't always turn out the way it's supposed to, either, unless it wants to."

"I hate magic." Jimin mumbles against your neck, pressing a kiss there just because. "It's so finicky."

"Why would you say that to a literal witch," You say, mildly offended, but he only giggles.

Then. Then you're all sat around the couch, laughing and drinking homemade wine until Taehyung makes a face after his first sip and settles for Jungkook's banana juice instead. A sober icon.

(There's touches too, tender ones, warm ones that settle in the pit of your stomach. Jimin, a hand under the hem of your and Taehyung's sweaters to pet at your waistbands, at your stomachs. Jungkook settled over you all, head on your thigh and legs on Taehyung's, much to the hybrid's initial despair.

"Massage my feet, hyung."

"Absolutely not."

Taehyung, shuffling over Jimin to press his lips to the back of your neck, a deep, almost guttural rumble sounding against your back in an almost-purr.)

You sit there amidst it all, taking it all in, hoping to keep this safe, keep it somewhere with a lock and key.

Jungkook noses against your stomach, mutters a mantra softly under his breath you think sounds like mate, mates, home--and you want to keep this. Want to keep this for a long, long time. And you think you just might.

Everything is loud and encased in a bright, neon light, surrounded by the people you love, but that fact becomes debatable as you think you catch Jin's tall figure doing some sort of dance somewhere in the crowd and maybe Taehyung in the middle of a circle of people, the man chugging down a bag of gummy bears. You can't be too sure though.

It's the day after Jimin's performance, and the song he danced to has been playing on loop for the past fifteen minutes, maybe. Jimin laughed at first when he realized, but you think by now everyone's getting tired of it but no one has the heart to stop anything.

You think the man of the hour is-- somewhere, maybe helping Namjoon pour the drinks, maybe chugging down gummy bears with Taehyung or slow dancing with Jungkook completely out of rhythm, but you spin on your stool and look up when you hear footsteps and smile as a hand softly cups your cheek.

"M'love. Pretty. I've been looking for you," Jimin coughs, then, and he looks-- beautiful. A white flannel shirt tucked into faded black ripped jeans, round glasses sitting crookedly on the bridge of his nose, hair disheveled like there was someone running their hands through it. He's smiling big and wide and kind of sloppy at the edges and he looks kind of ridiculous, but he's cupping your cheek and calling you pretty and you can't help but smile just as wide.

"Hello," you murmur, take a hold of his hands, and for a second it feels like everything stills, just you and Jimin sitting in this pretty little world. "What've you been up to? Did you drink? You look like you drank."

He does look a bit drunk, but you know that can't be true because Jimin can down vodka like it's water and does so with an effortlessness you will never possess, not to mention he's a vampire, but-- he looks just a tad bit drunk. Drunk on something more intangible, maybe.

"Hey, Y/n," he starts, like he just thought of it and it's the best idea he's ever had, "Let's make out."

You cough only twice before bursting into laughter, and Jimin looks nothing if not pleased with himself. "No, you absolute bimbo."

"Why not?" He all but whines, swinging your intertwined hands around, arms flailing, "I wanna do it. Right now. This second."

Jimin leans in teasingly and you think you catch both Jungkook and Taehyung doing kissy faces in the background somewhere, and when he does kiss you it's messy and sloppy and you're both smiling and it's-- practically all teeth, really, but there's something nice about it, something tender.

He starts tracing your jawline with gentle fingertips when you both pull away, and you kiss the pads of his fingers when they hover close to your lips, watch as Jimin draws in a breath, deep and shuddering.

It takes a second, then-- "Jesus, you can't just do that," he breathes out, coming to right as he steps between your legs, taking the sides of your face between his hands, gently caressing the under of your eyes.

You're-- still on your stool, still in the middle of a crowded apartment, all with people you know and love but maybe that only serves to fluster you more. "Jimin," you hiss, probably too red, too flushed under his tender gaze and others' prying eyes. Seokjin and Hoseok's especially, those nosy bastards. "Not here!"

"Why not? Why can't I kiss my lover?" Hands are tugging at your face, tracing your chin, pulling you in; more gentle now, as if to let you pull away if you want.

"Our other boyfriends are literally judging us as we speak." Jungkook is filming you two from a distance now, and Taehyung is standing right beside him, laughing too hard at something he said. You don't want to know.

"Let them, they can join us if they want."

"Jimin!" You're horrified, to say the least.

And then Jimin is laughing, and the sound melts you down to your bones, human fondue. And then- and then--

Then he's pulling you off your stool, turning to gesture something to Taehyung who immediately understands, the hybrid answering with a nod and a thumbs up. Soulmate culture, if you may.

Then he's leading you up the small set of stairs you'd walked through so many times before- past a frantic Namjoon who looks to have some frosting in his hair- going up, up, looking back only to check on you, to kiss your knuckles.

Then he's clicking open his bedroom door, ushering you inside by the small of your back. The door closes softly behind you, and you're faced with a bedroom that's so terribly Jimin that you kinda ache a bit. You'd been here before-- just this morning, too, maybe-- but it always catches you by surprise, leaves you feeling terribly soft for this boy, for all your boys.

"Are those my socks on the floor?" Is the first thing you say.

Jimin kicks your socks under his bed right before your eyes. "No," He drawls.

You laugh and he smiles at the sound, the vampire taking one step closer, then two-- immediately reaching for you once he's close enough to touch, hands trailing gently from your shoulders down to your hips. "Taehyung and Guk should be here soon, I told Tae to bring drinks. And those gummy worms stashed under the sink. Maybe a sandwich, while he's at it."

"How did you-" You sputter, "You showed him, like, a peace sign, how did you give him that much amount of info in the span of two seconds?"

Jimin smiles, drags his bottom lip through his teeth like he's holding back a laugh before shrugging, and— well. You'll get it out of him one day.

You trace the arch of his brow, the slope of his nose, the dip above his lips. He's the one to kiss the pads of your fingers this time. He hums something soft, scrunches his nose to urge his glasses higher.

"You should wear glasses more often, I like them." You say as Jimin takes them off-- to kiss you properly, you think cheekily-- watch as he places them on a nearby table.

"They make me look stupid."

"No, they don't. You're cute with them."

"Am I cute without them?" He grins, cheeky.

"Stop fishing for compliments."

He giggles and rests his forehead on yours, eyes half lidded and wide and brimming with so much open adoration that you surprise yourself by reaching out, hooking your fingers through his belt loops to pull him in close to taste again. Jimin crowds in closer still, stepping in closer until you're almost touching but not quite. Not enough.

Jimin's voice rumbling beside your ear as he murmurs your name, Jimin's thumbnails dragging softly over your spine, Jimin's lips pressing open mouthed kisses on your neck.

The man draws in a breath, "God, you're so—" he trails off, pressing kisses to your neck, knuckles stroking along the side of your jaw so tenderly you ache.

It takes a second, then you feel sharp teeth dragging over the skin of your neck, and you shiver-- Jimin immediately pulling away with a low curse. "Shit, I'm sorry, m'love," he covers his mouth with a hand, cheeks flushed. His fangs are gone when his hand lowers. "Can't control them sometimes."

"S'okay." You say almost breathlessly, your mind reeling, still trying to catch up with the rest of your body as Jimin flattens his weight against you, pressing you against the wall, a hand cupping the back of your head. His fingertips trail down the side of your face and you—feel. You feel so much, all at once.

He crowds in close, a breadth over your lips, "Wanna keep going?"

"Wait," you gesture for him to look at you, and he does-- or maybe he was already looking, never stopped. "I'm really proud of you, hm? We're all really proud of you."

You cup his cheeks and he's suddenly shy, grinning wide and pretty pretty pretty.

You both stay like that for a long while, you think; lazy kisses and lazy touches, lazy words and lazy smiles that linger and go long, leave you both breathless and giggly.

There's light streaming in through an open window, pink and gold reflecting onto Jimin's skin. There's a distant smell of old books and earl grey tea, of sweet cologne and newly washed sweaters. There's laughter on your tongue and you can taste his smile and you no longer long for a place that doesn't exist because it-- does. It does exist, maybe it always did. And you found it, right here, and it's beautiful.

Then there's a soft creaking and soft footsteps and soft laughter, more hands reaching to touch and that's. That's love, too. "I can't believe this," Jungkook starts, huffing out a laugh, "They left us to make out. They really did it. This is—blasphemy."

"I bet you don't even know what that words means." Taehyung snickers, even as Jungkook retorts with a little punch to the hybrid's shoulder.

A harmless little fight threatens to burst forth and Jimin steps away from you to physically restrain Taehyung from swinging his antlers around like a madman. "I never want thing one and thing two around me again." You deadpan to yourself.

Jungkook blinks, turning towards you with a halfhearted fist still hovering midair, "Wait, which one am I?"

"Yeah, that's a good idea, I don't really wanna see them either." Jimin nods, hands literally cupping Taehyung's cheeks as he says it.

"Noona. Am I thing one or two?"

"We should probably kick them out." You contemplate. Jimin hums, kissing Taehyung's cheeks now.

"Which one am I, noona? Noona—"

You're happy now, and you hope to be happy in the future. And that will be love, too.

"Hey," A little whisper sounds against your ear and you turn, a flash going off before you can throw your hands up to hide. You make a face at that and another snap goes off along with Jungkook's giggle and you realize you're fighting a losing battle.

You're in Yoongi's greenhouse to restock the mugwort and rosemary, the faerie tending to a rosebush and cutting of the stems. They're a little fussy so you don't want to disturb him.

Jimin and Taehyung are huddled by a tree trunk trying to feed a one-legged bird, and sometimes rainwater will drip down your nose even though the outlines of the clouds overhead are delicate, their edges blurring into blue. You can guess how far you are from the shoreline from the scent of the ocean.

Wind kicks up in your hair. It takes a second, then you hear another snap.

You dig your hands into the earth, feel dirt sticking to your nail beds as you frown, "Shouldn't you be taking pictures of something else?"

Jungkook lowers the camera enough for you to see his eyes shaped into little crescents. Out of spite, probably, he takes another picture.

You make the motion as if to stand ad leave but his hand shoots to your wrist to gently tug you back, giggling a drawled out "no!"

Taehyung turns just then, sees you both and a wondrously slow grin spreads just like that. Another snap.

The hybrid gestures for you to come closer and you stand quick, brush yourself off, grab a hold of one of Jungkook's arms and attempt to pull him up with brute strength. He doesn't move an inch, but laughs at your attempts anyway.

It always feels different being together. Watching Taehyung press a wet, sloppy kiss to your and Jungkook's forehead and Jungkook trying to kick him and Jimin laughing and then a snap of a camera before the vampire can react and complain because Jimin, for someone who likes to be seen, strangely doesn't like to be seen. Jungkook takes photos of him anyway, because Jimin is one of the most beautiful people you know.

Being together is different. Everything feels different when you're together, like there's not a thing that's missing, like everything you could ever want is right here.

"Y/n-ah, you should take us here more often," Taehyung says as he spins in a circle, arms outstretched as if he could hold the whole neighborhood in his arms if he wanted. The whole world.

You watch him spin and spin and spin and feel a little grin tugging at your lips, "What's so great about all this?"

He almost trips but catches himself on a thin tree and starts twirling around that instead, "Plants don't grow like this just anywhere," he says, stops abruptly. There are leaves stuck to his hair, and Jimin giggles before plucking them off one by one. He continues, "They didn't grow like this because of the magic, either. They grew like they've been loved."

Taehyung's got his head tipped up, like he's looking for constellations even though it's midday. He takes a step forward and his antlers get stuck on a tree branch and he yelps and you're all laughing even as he screams dramatically.

Yoongi then decides to waddle towards you and says you're all disturbing the petunias, so with little to no persuasion you convince him to hand some of the things you needed in the first place before gathering your things and heading home.

Jimin and Taehyung fall into step behind you, seemingly not even noticing they're supposed to be going to their own home but you don't comment as they walk inside completely uninvited. (But completely welcome.)

Jimin whines a little at the dirt on his clothes so you rummage through Jungkook's closet and know it will be a bit too big on him but it will have to do. You find three spare 99 cent toothbrushes in a pack of ten in the cabinet under the sink and have no idea who bought them or what happened to the other seven of them.

It all feels a little bit dreamy, you think; Jungkook closing the window in case it rains and Taehyung curling in small on the couch, making sleepy sounds with a hand resting on your thigh, lashes tickling your cheek as he leans in to press little kisses to your nose and your upper lip. Jimin hovers over you both and bites his lip, a nervous habit he doesn't know about. A purposeful action he does to get what he wants. You haven't figured out which yet.

Jimin makes grabby hands. You face Taehyung with as blank of an expression as you can muster, then say, "I don't know, Tae, what do you say we do?"

"I don't know..." he drawls, Daegu accent tugging at the vowels, a hand stroking at the soft skin of your belly, "Is this the part we ignore him and make out or something?"

Jimin, with one swift leap, plops himself on top of you both even as you all shriek and Taehyung yells a distant "Whose leg is this?!" followed by a low oof. You think that's when Jungkook plops himself on all three of you and all the breath leaves your lungs completely.

It's strangely domestic, they way you're all giggling even as Jungkook starts brushing his teeth with two of his toothbrushes and Taehyung spits a little bit, tooth paste dribbling down his chin, and you think Jimin chokes a little bit, too. You don't think you've ever been endeared by something so stupid but you wouldn't trade this for anything.

You all play rock paper scissors to determine who gets the middle, and Jimin wins with a victorious whoop but Taehyung says he was in the middle last time so they hand the win over to you. (Jungkook suggests you take turns next time and that's an idea you can definitely agree with so that's a topic for discussion for later.)

So then you're all squeezing into this bed that's much too big for four people, and you're a bit smug as you settle in the middle before Jungkook presses his cheek to your stomach with Jimin behind him and Taehyung on your other side and you all manage to make do.

"Ow! Tae-hyung, what the heck?"

"I didn't mean to pinch you! So wait, whose leg is this?"

"That would be me," you mutter.

"Oh." He says, then pinches you, too.

Your eyes start to droop as they start making quiet conversation; not about anything particular, but then Taehyung starts talking about what it's like to live with Jimin and dramatizes how romantic it is until Jimin pipes up saying they'd spent Valentine's day playing Minecraft last year, and Jungkook laughs so hard he snorts and does that thing where he starts randomly slapping people's shoulders.

They check up on you too, sometimes, pressing little kisses to your exposed skin with whispers of you awake, baby? and go to sleep, little love, and you're so pretty, noona-- and it's all a pretty dream, you decide. You'll stay here in this pretty dream and listen while the three tell you pretty things.

You feel Taehyung tug lightly at your hair, and you turn to face him and he grins so softly you turn to mush. His fingers stroke low on your waistband, your hipbone, and you feel him pull you closer before he even does, lifts you with a happy hum and then you're kissing and kissing and kissing, lips catching over and over until you're warm and pliant and melted into Jungkook.

"Pretty," Jungkook sighs, crawling up higher to press kisses to the nape of your neck, pull you flush against him.

Taehyung kisses you soft and sweet and then not so sweet but slow slow slow, just the way he likes to be kissed. Your hand reaches to cup his cheek and tilt his head just so, trace his jaw, tug at his hair to hear his breath hitch.

Jimin, with a deadpanned voice, says, "Well, this is fun," and you snort into Taehyung's mouth as he half-laughs, half-shrieks, then you all pile onto the vampire to tickle him and it's a mess and an even bigger mess when you almost knock him off the bed.

There's something nice about knowing that you'll wake up to all this tomorrow, to feather soft touches and lingering kisses. You like all your mornings with them, even the hectic ones, with toast crumbs and rushing around Yeontan and strings of panicked I'm late, shit, I'm—can you, will you—and lingering touches that shouldn't linger because you're all late.

But this is gentle, tender. Push too hard and it hurts because everything is exposed and vulnerable kind of tender.

You press a kiss goodnight to each of them, playfully slap Jimin's chest when he tries to keep you close and blow raspberries into Jungkook's mouth when he tries to tickle you, too, and when you move to kiss Taehyung's knuckles you smile at the little tattooed moon on his inner wrist, and you realize that you want to kiss it. Realize, too, that you are so deeply in love you don't know what to do with all of it.

So you kiss it. And you kiss him. And everything is warm.

"You look different these days," Seokjin murmurs, gaze more focused on squeezing the little plastic ketchup onto his french fries. Empty packets are already starting to pile around his plate, and his arm is kind of shaking from the strain, and it's. A little funny. You pinch the soft spot of your cheek to keep yourself from laughing.

"If you're just going to call me ugly, Jin, then just save it." You say, pretend to be annoyed, down some more of your drink like it's vodka.

"That's not what I meant at all! I'm saying something happened," he takes one sweeping look over your bundled frame and announces proudly, "You got laid! Holy shit. I never thought I'd see the day. My baby's growing up."

Namjoon nearly chokes beside him, looks around frantically, "Hyung, we're in public. Also, please never call Y/n that ever again."

"But it's true. You're all my babies," He announced without chagrin, popping a fry into his mouth. Namjoon attempts to look smaller, then mumbles a small prayer towards the ceiling.

"I didn't get laid." You deadpan, cupping a hand over your mug. You mutter a small incantation and feel it warm in your palm.

Seokjin continues his coos as Namjoon reaches over the table to clap your back, either as a form of support or an apology, you'll never know.

"You should ask them to move in, I'm sure they'll say yes," Jin continues, chewing thoughtfully.

"I've only been dating them for like three months." You say, but only receive a shrug in response.

"That's, like, a year in Y/n time."

"That doesn't make sense."

"You're right. Six months in Y/n time. Maybe seven."

You groan.

Namjoon then starts talking about the concept of time, which leads into the concept of beauty, which segways into a heated debate about toxic masculinity in the beauty industry, and then suddenly you're sitting amidst a conversation about gender norms and queer theory and it's. Too much.

Seokjin turns to you when he notices you've been quiet for too long, "Y/n-ah? You okay? Is this about the whole getting laid thing? I wasn't actually serious! Mostly."

"No," you say, feeling small suddenly, "'M just happy."

“Oh.” His eyes soften. "Good. That's good. Yoongi-chi said so, too."

Your heart warms. Warms at the thought that there are friends looking out for you, careful and caring, friends that notice when you're fine, notice when you're not. It grows a bit overwhelming sometimes, this small little reassurance you have, tucked away from prying eyes in a place where everything is soft. Little reassurance that says these, these-- these are the kinds of people I want to keep close.

"Yeah," You smile, say again but softer, "Yeah."

"Ask 'em to move in," Namjoon hums, "It'll be good for you all."

"Hey, Jungkook?" You ask one night when you two have been up too long, and it's late enough for words to spill more easily as if drunk. The werewolf hums and you continue, "Do you wanna move in?"

Jungkook stills and you feel something like bile start to surface up, up, but then he giggles and pats blindly at the mattress until he finds your hand and laces your fingers together.

"We're already roommates, Noona."

"I know, but like," you pause and peel open an eye and find Jungkook's gaze in the dark and he's already looking at you. You wonder if he'd ever looked away. "But like-- move in, you know? Like, boyfriend move in, because we weren't dating when you did move in, and—Don't look at me like that! You know what I mean!"

He's smiling, amused and fond, then says, "Are you gonna make me write a proper lease? Are you a nice landlord?"

"Forget I said anything."

"No," he drawls with a whine, giggles when you shift and turn so you're facing the other way. His hand snakes up your shirt, a finger trailing down the dip in your back. His nose tickles your neck as he continues, "Come back, noona. Baby."

He says it the same way he did before, when you'd first kissed and were both pretending it hadn't happened. Even before that, too. Saying it like it means something else.

Jungkook pulls you so that you're facing him and then you're nose to nose and he's grinning unabashedly, "Noona, I would love to boyfriend move in with you." He says adamantly, then he's pulling you in and tugging you close and kissing you hard, biting your lips cherry red until he slows and it's soft, soft, soft.

When you're both pulling back with droopy eyes and lazy touches is when you curl in small, feel him peppering kisses over your collarbone, "Can our boyfriends boyfriend move in with us, too?"

And then you look up and he's grinning big and soft and shy and-- Jungkook. "Yeah," he breathes, something deep and shuddering, "I'd like that a lot."

("Does this mean I can husband move in with you one day, too?"

"Go to sleep Guk," you say, hushed, then whisper, "That sounds nice."

You feel his smile on your neck and your heart soars up, up, up.)

There are new flowers on the table.

They're pretty, reds and purples and pinks dissolving into white. You smile, murmur sweet nothings to the one drooping outside the vase, watch as it perks slowly into place, petals fluttering. You'll make sure to sprinkle something on them later, help them stay for maybe a few weeks more. It's sweet, smells a bit like honey and marmalade.

"Peonies," you muse to yourself. You'd have to thank Jimin later. You can feel that Jungkook's a little calmer than usual, all safe and warm somewhere close, so maybe you won't have to wait long.

Footsteps pad softly over the creaking floorboards, and you turn to a sleepy Taehyung trudging towards you, rubbing at his eyes.

"Do you like peonies?" Taehyung asks as he watches you gently tuck the flowers into a vase, placing it somewhere where you can see, where the whole world can see.

You think for a long while, tracing a hand lightly over the petals, watch as they melt into your touch. The room gets warmer. It's always like that these days, you think-- warm, warm, warm.

Today, just outside, there are dandelions growing through cracks in the sidewalk. There's an old couple sitting by their porch holding hands. There’s a lizard resting in the morning sun, trying to grow a new tail. There is life. And you're learning to love yours quite a bit, too.

"Yeah," you say, not quite looking at him but you don't need to. He knows. Always does, really. "I think I do."

a/n: this is the end folks :( I’m gonna miss this bumbling trio :(( i’d like to thank u all so much for all the support on this lil series, hopefully this ending is satisfactory djksjd?? i might maybe write some drabbles for them at some point tho!! this was plotless and had like zero angst this is my level of longing for romance. ty for reading g’day

#poly bts #poly bts x reader #bts x reader #werewolf jungkook #werewolf bts #vampire jimin #vampire bts #hybrid bts #hybrid taehyung #hybrid au #werewolf au #vampire au #taehyung x reader #jimin x reader #jungkook x reader #maknae line #maknae line x reader #witch bts #hoseok #namjoon #seokjin #yoongi

[consumedkings-archive]

“Why do you always call me when I’m on a date?” + misolde xoxo

hi dove ily  ♥(ꈍᴗꈍ) dragged meself out of my writing slump to churn out this misolde content so THANK you for that!!! and esp thank you for letting me  borrow your boy for my own purposes (i.e., giving isolde the happy ending she deserves)

i. dreaming of you ✤ michael hughes x isolde khan

words: 3.6k

prompt:  “why do you always call me when i’m on a date?” taken from this list!

rating: mature, nothing explicit but you know. they’re themselves.

warnings: isolde is a brat, michael makes a cougar pun, most of the fic is via phone call. i don’t think there’s any warnings other than that and the very brief mention of isolde’s ex-husband stalking her, sort of tangentially. ik this is from the “friends or more” prompt list but i made this a “lovers to friends reluctantly and back to lovers again” happy ending because i’m sexy and deserve it

“Well, well, well. What could the Girl Who Has Everything be calling me for at 9 PM on a Friday night?”

Mike sounds more amused than irritated, which is a pretty good sign. Even if there’s a hint of irritation there in his voice—a tiny little pinprick of it sitting just there, under the surface—that he picked up on the second ring tells her he’s not as mad as he could be.

“Don’t be mean,” Isolde replies, feeling her lower lip push out a little. “I need your help.”

He scoffs, but the sound is begrudgingly playful. “And what is it that you need my help with?”

It’s fair for Michael to sound so skeptical. She hates asking for help if she actually needs it, hates the feeling of having to rely on another human being because she just can’t push herself enough past the limit to get the thing done—even if it’s not really about not pushing herself enough, and more about knowing her limits.

Luckily, she’s not asking for help she actually needs.

“My new fire pit came,” she replies innocently. “It’s too heavy for me to get it off the porch.”

“Why aren’t you askin’ John to help you, doll?”

“What, the man who’s got the upper body strength of a flightless bird? Don’t jest with me, Michael.”

He sighs. The sounds of bar chatter echo behind him, pretty and tinny, like a wind chime. Someone laughs, and Michael breathes out through his nose; she bets that he’s smiling ruefully, mouthing an apology to whoever it is that’s sitting at the table with him.

“Why do you always call me when I’m on a date?” he asks dryly, and Isolde inspects her manicure idly, balancing the phone between her shoulder and cheek.

She says, feigning complete surprise, “Oh, are you?”

“Sol.”

“I’m not privy to your agenda, darling, I couldn’t possibly know you’re on a date.” Isolde makes a thoughtful noise. “Perhaps this is a reflection on your dating habits rather than my phone call schedule.”

“Uh-huh.”

Another moment of silence elapses before Isolde prompts, “Anyway, are you free after your date?”

Michael barks out a little laugh, almost incredulous. “No, I will not be free after my date.”

“Hm,” Isolde says.

“What could you possibly be ‘hm’ing about over there, huh? I’ll remind you, Lady Isolde, that you ended things with me, you know. Not like it matters, but that means I’m not at your beck and call all the time.”

Fair, Isolde thinks, but won’t say, because she’s too proud to. She sighs; leans against the counter, twisting the wine glass around at the base, watching the dark red liquid inside of it shifting.

“It’s nothing,” she replies after a moment.

“Yeah? Nothin’, huh?”

“Nothing.”

“Alright, Sol, well if it’s ‘nothin’ that’s on your mind—”

“I just think it’s funny how—”

As soon as she starts, Michael groans, and she makes a disgruntled noise—indignant, insulted that he’d have the audacity to think of her as anything other than charming.

“What?” she demands.

“It just doesn’t stop with you.”

“Big words coming from the man who’s never fully grasped the concept of shutting up,” she huffs. “And I was going to say that I just think it’s funny that you’re on a date with another woman and you still picked up my call.”

“Mm-hm.” He sounds less pleased, now. Like she's hit the exact nerve that he doesn't want her to, and like he knows her well enough to anticipate she won't let it go.

Because she won’t. “On the second ring.”

Michael clears his throat. “Sure did.”

“Second ring,” Isolde continues serenely, “means you didn’t even think about it, just picked up on instinct.”

“You ever considered pickin’ up car sales?”

It’s her turn to laugh now, and normally she’d be offended by something like that but it’s different coming out of Mike’s mouth. Somehow, his voice still blooms with a warmth that’s reminiscent of how he’d spoken to her before—the way he’d spoken to her before. Warmly. Affectionately. My girl, he used to say, hands on her hips and his nose brushing hers. That’s what you are. My girl.

And maybe she did happen to know, by pure chance and thanks to John’s gloating, that he was on a date this evening, but this is all pure happenstance and nothing more.

On the other end of the phone, Michael says something muffled—he’s probably covering the phone to mute his voice—and the sound of fabric rustling echoes on the call before she hears the sound of a door closing and Michael says, “You really callin’ just to get my help with a fire pit?”

“Well,” Isolde demurs. She then refuses to elaborate.

“Well, what?”

“Why’d you pick up my call?”

He puffs out a breath. “Isolde—”

“It’s an easy question, you know.” She pauses, the silence filtering between them for a second, welling with unanswered questions and unfinished sentences.

Michael says, “You know why.”

Isolde hums, pushes herself to a stand and walks out to the front porch of the house to sit herself down on the box containing the offending fire pit. From here, she can see the ranch—the lights glittering inside of it, John probably delighted to know that Mike’s moving on to another date and another love, or something like that, while she’s...Well, not.

It’s not like it had ever been about that, anyway, the break-up. Or break. Whatever it was. It had only ever been about—

Panic, something inside of her says. Panic that something is too good.

—time, and not having enough of it, and not being able to give him what he deserves out of a partner.

Mike asks, “What are you doing?”

“Drinking wine,” she replies blithely, “sitting on this gigantic box, looking up at John’s house and wondering how happy he is that he was right about us.”

“I meant calling me. And—don’t say that shit, makes me wanna puke.”

She laughs and takes a drink of the wine. “Then come over here and prove him wrong.”

“Soli,” he says, his voice pitching lower now when the rare pet name comes out of his mouth, “don’t play with me.”

“I’m not. You think I really called you because I want to set up a fire pit on a Friday night?” She’s emboldened—made brave by the wine in her body and the distance her phone gives her, so she doesn’t have to look him in the eye when she says she had been wrong and stupid and maybe a little more than scared.

And then she says, impulsively, “I miss you, Mikey,” and he groans, the dull sound of what she can only assume is the back of his head hitting the door echoing on the phone call. Her mouth twists; she thinks, just say it, don’t be an idiot and just say that you want him back. The voice in her head, ever reasonable, sounds oddly like Avery's voice, scolding her because even her baby sister can see that she's suffering needlessly and for nobody's benefit.

You don't do anyone any favors, being alone, Avery always says, chiding. Not someone else and not yourself.

But alone is safe. Alone is quiet, and safe, and alone has no expectations to be missed, and alone doesn't ask why a new unregistered number shows up on your phone every week like clockwork, and alone doesn't notice that you're not really built for life in some podunk Montana town where you have one friend, so what are you hiding, Soli? What are you running from?

"...all night?"

Mike's voice drags her out of her thoughts, abruptly dunking her back in reality. It's unlike her to keep conversation hanging, and it takes her a second to realize he's been talking to her.

"Sorry," she says, "I was thinking. What did you say?"

He's quiet for a minute on the other end, before he asks curiously and without needling judgment, "How far are you into that wine, doll?"

"Enough," Isolde replies, warm to her fingertips every time he uses that pet name, "to not feel guilty about calling you."

"Because you knew I was on a date."

"Of course I did, Michael."

He couldn't sound more pleased when he says, "Well, you know I'm not the braggin' type, but—"

The comforting chatter of his voice on the other end of the call cuts off; she hears him exhale a breath, long-suffering and miserable, and he says, "Well, shit."

"What?"

"Date got up and left."

Isolde clicks her tongue, swallowing another mouthful of wine in a way that is decidedly unlike her; she doesn't typically like alcohol that you can gulp, like an animal, but maybe she's feeling a bit unlike herself this evening. After all, Isolde Proper wouldn't have been calling Michael Hughes at all.

"My condolences," she says, very seriously and around the bitter tannins of the wine on her tongue. "Maybe you can still catch her."

"You don't want me to do that."

"There are plenty of things I do and don't want, my darling, and for some reason the world insists on operating as though I am not the sun it orbits. It's very rude, if I'm being honest, because I do work so hard to be—"

"Soli," Mike interrupts, "did you mean it?"

Isolde shifts, coming to a stand and brushing the dust off of her. "Mean what?"

Another pause. It's uncharacteristic of him. "That you missed me."

Oh, she thinks, because now she's really mucked the whole thing up—now, Michael's gotten a taste of her pure, unadulterated honesty, and she's got to maintain it. Painful, excruciating thing, honesty; the wine went to her head and now she’s reaping the consequences of her bravery, her childish impulses. Her jealousy.

Isolde bends down, reaching for her wine. "Well, of course I did," is what she says, the words sharp as glass on their way out of her mouth, punishing her for having ever pushed him away in the first place. "I never say anything I don't mean."

He chuffs out an indignant sound. "You told me that you'd never be able to make it work here—and by proxy, with me."

"I thought—" It's her turn to sigh now. "I lack—with other people, I mean—well, you see, Michael, it's about longevity and if you look at it, really, through the—but the point is I don't want to look at the longevity of it, I want—"

Her fingers tip the wine glass over and it shatters, ringing in her wine-dulled head. She closes her eyes and sighs. Things are devolving quickly, and they shouldn’t be. She’s not the type to let things devolve.

"You didn't have to throw your glass, coulda just said."

"I knocked it over, I did not throw it. Michael."

"You’re getting bratty,” he muses, like this is useful information to him. “Get inside. You'll walk all over it. I'll be there in ten."

She pauses, mouth twisting. She feels like a child, like maybe he's coming not because he's realized she actually wants to be with him but because he's worried about her; Isolde is breaking glasses and tuning out of conversations and maybe that's a red flag and he just wants her to be okay.

"I don't think that's wise," is what she ventures after a moment, because she doesn't want to be pitied, she would rather be—

Mike breathes out, once, sharp and hard and she thinks she can hear him do that thing where he sucks his teeth and scuffs the ground with his shoe; if she really thinks about it, she can probably picture the irritation blooming across his face, too. "God damn it, Isolde, just tell me what you want. You want me to stay away? I do it. You want to come over? I will. I'm the idiot you tell to jump and I ask how high. Just tell me what it is, and I'll—fuckin' do it, if you'd just stop this runaround and—"

"I want you, you idiot," she snaps, his words rattling around in her head over and over. The call has gone quiet, now; wretchedly quiet for a man like Michael who doesn't stop talking. It feels deafening. Isolde swallows thickly and wishes she'd just opened another bottle instead of engaging in this song and dance she is woefully unprepared for. "I want—you, and I'm so—"

He clears his throat. Something about the gesture softens him, but she’s already spiraling. He says, "Sol."

"—stupid," she finishes miserably. "I don't know what it is to be happy anymore, and so when it happens I panic, and—Michael, I don't know how to take them back, the things I said. I wish hadn't said them, but I did, and now they're just there and I don't know how to take them back and there's all this bloody—all this fucking glass on my porch!"

"Alright, princess, take a breath."

Isolde does, despite her petulance insisting she does the opposite of what he tells her to.

"You yellin' all that on your porch?"

"Yes," she mutters crossly, grateful that they're glossing over the topic at hand but less grateful of being reminded of her outburst.

"So then John probably heard. Good." Mike's voice is dry, and a little tight, like he's pacing himself on something. "You got any more wine?"

Isolde looks sourly at the broken glass, and repeats, "Yes."

"Save me at least a glass," he replies, "and I'll be there in ten."

Having apparently learned his lesson the first time, Michael hangs up before she can get the chance to wax and wane about whether or not this is a good decision. The problem is that she thinks that it is—or that she thinks Michael is, anyway. Good. So fucking good. And maybe that means he's too good for her, and maybe he'll be miserable when he realizes that, and it's always so much better to do the leaving than to get left, isn't it?

She stands there for about two more minutes before she begrudgingly decides to sweep the glass off of her porch, gathering it up into the dustpan and dumping it. By the time she's done that, gone inside, gotten a fresh glass and poured it half-full, Isolde can hear the crunch of gravel outside beneath rubber. There's the familiar cadence of his steps coming up to the front door, the swing of it clicking open, and she thinks, great, now all I have to do is tell him I was an idiot and I'm sorry he drove all the way out here, but—

Isolde's turned halfway around, mouth open and ready to launch into a speech when Michael takes her face and kisses her.

It's not kind, not really. It tastes a little like whiskey and the wine still on her tongue and it bites a little, and Mike's hands are cold where they're cupping her face but she doesn't have much time to think about it because they drop; they grip her hips and hoist her up on the counter with familiar, confident ease, wine spilling out of her glass.

"Michael," she starts, one arm looped around his neck from the sudden change in altitude, "you spilled—"

He takes the wine glass from her and sets it aside so that he can sidle between her legs and kiss her again. Isolde's about halfway through her protest when their mouths meet; his teeth catch her lower lip playfully, fingers sliding beneath the hem of the Hope County Cougars shirt he'd bought her for her birthday.

"What," he manages out, pulling back to look at her in the shirt that is a direct and painful contrast in quality to the silky black pajama shorts, too short to be appropriate to wear outside of the house, they cover, "in Hell's name are you wearing this for?"

She tilts her head back to look at him, a little breathless and dazed. "What?"

"This shirt," Mike insists, tugging on it. "What is it doing on your body?"

"It's—" She blinks. "You got this for me. On my birthday."

"I remember." His smile is close-lipped, like he's trying very hard not to smile too big. "It's just—"

Michael stops. He looks to be on the verge of letting her know some grave secret, some piece of information she's been lacking this whole time.

"It's what, Michael? It's—homely but cute? A display of my incredible merit to wear such a piece as it was gifted to me by my handsome…" Her voice trails off, because she's not sure what to call him, and she plunges on, "A testament to man's hubris but also: his inability to take no for answer despite how many times God may have tried to strike him down for creating such an abhorrent piece of clothing?"

He kisses her again, long and hard and open-mouthed, and pulls her close by her hips until she's looped her arms over his shoulders and tangled her fingers into his hair. It promptly sweeps her brain clear of all thoughts of lovingly insulting the t-shirt he’d gifted to her.

"It's just," Michael says, against her mouth now, "that it looks so good on you, doll."

"That is not what you were going to say."

"Bet it looks better off," he adds, "on the floor. Could throw it on the deck for a little extra flavor."

She rolls her eyes. "You mean for extra flavor to piss John off."

"That’s not fair. I like to take your clothes off for more than pissing John off.”

The brunette pulls back to look at her now, eyes sweeping her face for a moment. Her chest feels tight—always does, when he fixes those green eyes on her, like it’s so easy for him to look right past her face and right into her brain.

“Hate that,” she murmurs, twisting a lock of his hair around her finger. “Hate when you look at me like that.”

“Like what, Soli?”

“Like you see me.”

Michael’s nose brushes the slope of her jaw. “I do.” And then, thoughtfully: “But you gotta stop throwing tantrums when I’m on a date. Just tell me you want me.”

Her mouth presses into a thin line. “I did.”

“Post-tantrum.”

“Well.” He’s not wrong, and she huffs, scrambling to dig through the trainwreck of her brain to come up with a better comeback than that; none come to mind right away, and Michael takes the opportunity of her silence to lean back a little further, head tilting to meet her gaze while his hand sweeps the length of her calf.

He says, “You scared my date off, you know.” When Isolde goes mmm in a sound that is decidedly unapologetic, Michael continues, “And this shirt wasn’t your real birthday gift.”

Sol squints at him. “What do you mean?”

“Obviously the very nice bottle of wine and the necklace were your actual birthday present,” he explains playfully, pulling at the shirt’s hem again. “This was just a fun thing. You know. Hope County Cougars shirt for my Hope County Cougar—”

“I should throttle you with it.” Her mouth downturns in a frown. “No wonder John looks like the fucking Cheshire Cat when I wear it around the house.”

A laugh billows out of him, easy as ever, and he gives her knee a squeeze. “Come on, then.”

“‘Come on then’ what?”

“Say it,” he coaxes, eyes narrowing playfully. “You scared off my date. Got me over here. Tell me you want me, Soli—in person, to my face.”

And I’m yours, is what he means, but he doesn’t say it and he doesn’t have to. 

She exhales a little sigh, swallowing thickly. It should be easy; she’s never had a hard time saying what it is she wants, but she’s never wanted something she felt so unworthy of.

“I do,” she says after a moment, “want you, Michael. I shouldn’t have—before, I mean—”

“Only needed the first half, doll,” Mike interjects, not unkindly. “No use digging through the whole thing. Not right now, anyway.” He pauses, and then hooks his arms around her, scooping her from the counter and up into his arms. That easily, he sweeps away the anxiety of having to admit that she was scared—not right now, he says, which means that he’ll want to hear it later but for now he’s content to hold and kiss her.

It’s the front porch he’s headed for, not the bedroom like he should be, and Isolde says, “Where on earth are you taking me?”

“Gotta make sure John knows we’re back together,” he replies cheerfully, nudging the door open with his foot. “How big’s that box? Big enough to sit you on, maybe both of us?”

Isolde feels a laugh bubbling out of her. It’s equal parts relieved she can save the heavy conversation for later and delight that he’s not lost his desire to make John squirm. “Michael.”

“Alright, alright,” he intones dutifully, “porch railing it is. Perfect place, I think.”

She groans—it does not sound like the perfect place—but when he sits her on it and kisses her, arms looped around her midsection to keep her close and unhurried in tempo, she thinks she’ll be alright with it for this time.

“You think the little guy’s gonna come unglued?” he murmurs thoughtfully. “Not to make all of our sexy talk about how mad John’s gonna be, it’s really a bonus on top of you, you know—”

“Michael,” she says against his mouth, “shut up and kiss me.”

He laughs, rumbling out a short little mean before he obliges, and Isolde thinks, yes, I can tell, because when he does shut up and kiss her, the relief is palpable; blooming warm and fresh in her chest where the ache had been before, the tightness, and even though it’s not completely gone it does feel abated, a little.

As long as he’s here, she’ll be alright.

#my writing #otp: our cathedral is the badlands #love getting to use their cute ship name finally!!!! #ugh #far cry 5 oc #fc5 oc #ch: isolde khan #i love #one (1) man putting up with this monster #dove rly thank u for letting me love on him and put him through the torture of romancing soli #writing prompts #oc: michael s hughes

[wantaichi]

back of the bar

futakuchi kenji x reader

nsfw warning: sorta drunk sex, public sex ✦ wc: 1.5k ✦ see: nsfw collection

---- Not enough.

“Hey, you plan on getting shitfaced before the party starts?”

Not. Enough.

You’re still holding back, still too conscious. Still in the realm of sobriety. 

You down two shots of tequila, making a face as the burn settles in your throat. Cheers and claps erupt all around you, and the adrenaline kicks in.

The crowd is a mix of friends from high school and some familiar faces from the volleyball team Nametsu used to manage. 

Is he watching?

Despite the buzz building in your head, you try and seek out a distinct pair of eyes. The daunting ones that made you look away whenever you’re caught staring. But there’s a certain gravity to them that pulled you back in, and you wanted so badly to be pulled in without restraint.

That’s what alcohol is for, you think.

“Alright everyone! Birthday countdown!” 

Everyone shifts their attention to Nametsu who’s sitting on the bar counter, a sloshed grin on her face as she aims the confetti bomb towards the ceiling.

The countdown starts with ten, then nine.. eight! seven!

You see him counting too, sitting on the long table like he owns the whole place, hyping up the crowd with mirth.

..when his eyes meet yours. 

three! two! one!

And he winks.

pop!

“HAPPY BIRTHDAAAY, NAMETSUUU!”

“Crowd surf! Crowd surf!”

“Shut up, Futakuchi!”

The entire room is obscured in glitter and metallic colors raining from the ceiling, painting the bar with a surreal festivity. Cheers and whistles breathe life to the scene.

Your field of vision is shrouded in color, and you’re not sure if it’s from the confetti.

---- Alcohol practically ran through your veins with how much you've consumed, your intention of getting close to Futakuchi long forgotten and replaced with dancing ‘til your feet give out. And at one point, give out they did.

From the spot you had rightfully — drunkenly — claimed as yours, a round booth in a poorly-lit corner of the bar, you muse blankly at the strobe lights, almost seizure-inducing but hypnotic when accompanied by music.

“Been waiting long?” 

Slumped on the couch, only your head turns to the voice. Futakuchi has his head tilted, wearing that smug expression. He’s nursing a bottle in one hand, two shot glasses in the other.

It just might be your inebriety,  but you find yourself chuckling at his sudden presence. “Long enough, Futaku—”

“Just Kenji.”

“Kenji..” You like the way his name rolls on your tongue.

“Mm, y/n right?” You nod, and your dreamy eyes are glued to his face as he slips into the booth, and settles beside you.

It’s the first time you see him up close and get the chance to admire his features. 

Yup, just as pretty as he is from afar.

The man had been making rounds, coercing every person—friend and acquaintance—into taking a shot. It took him forever to reach you that you’d forgotten all about him.

He pours both of you a shot until the glasses are more than half filled. 

“Just saving the best for last.. Cheers?”

Facing each other, you clink glasses, the impact spilling some on your clothes. He watches you empty your glass, eyes filled with an intensity that you don’t seem to notice.

The burning sensation you anticipate in your throat doesn’t come. Or maybe it does, but something more intense begins to burn when an arm snakes around your waist.

“How long did I keep you waiting?”

You shudder at his warm breath on your skin and the way his fingers are lingering on your thigh. 

“Only the entire night,” you say, feeling the liquid courage kick in, “Will you make up for it?”

“I plan to.”

His lips are on yours before you realize it, soft and hot against you. Your head is spinning, whether from the alcohol or the kiss, you’re not sure, but you comb your fingers through his soft tresses, grabbing fistfuls to convince yourself this is actually happening.

His touch glides up from your thigh up to your backside, groping and feeling your shapely ass through your skin-tight dress.

One long steamy kiss later, you’re unlatching from him, the strained look on your face making him worry that he might have crossed the line too early. But the thought is quick to dispel itself when you grab his hand and guide him under your dress and onto the dampness between your legs. 

A breathy chuckle escapes him, and then he’s touching you and rubbing his fingers against your warmth. “Impatient much?”

“I’ve been nothing but patient the entire night.” 

You lean forward, and your tongue is tracing the seam of his lips, coaxing it to open for you. 

“Right, my bad,” he breathes over your mouth. His fingers are rubbing you through your panties, moving in circles and feeling you get wetter, stickier after each passing second. The overwhelming pleasure makes you break away from the kiss and breathe shakily into his ear.

He cranes his neck to peek at your flushed face, at the whimpering mess you’ve become, and finds himself getting more aroused.

His touch abandons your core, eliciting a soft whine from you. But the next thing you know, he’s lifting you onto his lap so that you’re straddling him, knees folding on either side.

The change in position is disorienting, and the lack of control over your body isn’t helping. But as soon as you feel a rock hard pressure between your legs, your hips begin moving on their own, grinding needily against it and making Futakuchi curse under his breath.

He leans in, sucking on your neck while fingering the stringy straps of your dress, tugging them down languidly. His lips leave a trail of wet kisses down your throat, travelling dangerously low the more he tries to undress you.

“Kenji, someone might..” 

Before you could even turn around, a jacket was already coming up behind you and cloaking your entire backside.

“No one will see, don’t worry,” he whispers. 

Not really assured by his own words, he peeks over your shoulder. Whether it’s due to poor lighting or everyone’s hammered state, he deems it safe to continue.

You smile before crashing your lips onto his, tongue lapping out to taste him. “Then...can I..”

“What is it, baby?”

He gets his answer when your hands glide down his firm torso and onto the buckle of his belt. Grinning as he realizes where this is headed, he hooks his fingers on the hem of your dress and tugs at it. 

“You wanna fuck me right here?” 

His hot breath sends a shiver all the way to your core, turning your fingers to jelly while you fumble on his belt. Futakuchi laughs softly at your little struggle and relieves you of it, undoing his pants to free his throbbing member.

Not a second goes to waste when you align your moist cunt atop him, breathing heavily at the contact while you slowly descend all the way to the bottom until he’s fully inside you. He digs his fingers into your hips, his dark lidded eyes seeking yours out. 

You start moving, riding up and down his shaft and moaning his name in a soft chant. It becomes harder for you to sense if someone’s approaching, but it’s even harder to give a fuck when your minds are swimming in alcohol and the sweet promise of release. 

Both of you share a desperate kiss, biting and licking and moaning in between. “Shit, keep going, y/n..” 

With the jacket concealing your backside, Futakuchi slips your dress further off you and drinks in the sight of your bare breasts. He thrust his hips in time with yours, the zapping heat in your core becoming unbearable and making you desperate for release.

The cacophony of club music and raw singing is drowned out by the hammering of your heart and Futakuchi’s boyish moans, enough to bring you on the edge of sanity.

“Kenji.. I’m gonna..” You feel your toes curl and your cunt squeeze tight around him, drawing out a string of curses from the boy.

“Fuck yeah baby, cum on my cock, please..”

The tension between your legs subsides as you find your release and collapse into his chest, panting heavily. He doesn’t release you from his hold, dragging out the high by continuing to thrust inside you in a languorous pace until he comes to a stop. For a while, you savor the sound of each other’s breathing, and Futakuchi continues to bask in the comfort of your walls.

He’s alerted by a slight movement from the corner of his eye, and sees Moniwa stop in his tracks, horror and distress written all over his face as he stares at the two figures in the compromising position. 

Futakuchi flicks his wrist in a shooing motion, and the former captain willingly turns on his heel to leave.

“Someone saw?” you ask.

“Nah,” he deadpans, pulling your straps back up onto your shoulders, “Say, wanna ditch? Kinda craving some fast food right now.”

You giggle and plant a soft kiss on the boy’s cheek before climbing off him. 

“What’s your escape plan?” ——

a/n: liked this work? leave a note or send in your thoughts thru my ask box!

#in public collection #futakuchi kenji #futakuchi kenji x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu!! smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #smut #fanf1c

[fanficimagery]

Natalie’s Half-Sister [Part 3 of 3]

Summary: Imagine being surprised by your sister and landing an interview with a hospital all the way in LA. Looks like it's time to finally make a decision- stay in Texas or move out to LA.

Words: 2.9K Warnings: None really. The ending sucks. I started to run low on inspo.

David's trailing after Natalie and Jeff, the three of them walking through the Texas airport to grab their luggage.

"As you can see, guys, we're in Texas to surprise Y/N who we haven't seen in about two months." Natalie and Jeff turn around, flashing peace signs and smiles. "Natalie's here because it's her sister and Jeff is here because he's secretly in love with Y/N."

Jeff rolls his eyes. "Will you stop telling the internet I'm in love with Y/N! She's gonna see this and stop talking to me." His smile completely says otherwise and David laughs as he continues to record.

"That wasn't a denial. You heard it here first, folks. Jeff's got himself a crush."

"Don't be an idiot."

"Whatever. You literally worked your ass off to clear your schedule this week so you could make the trip out here with us."

"Will you two hurry up!" Natalie grumbles. "I wanna make it to Y/N's house before she leaves for the football game."

"What football game?" Jeff asks.

"It's a Friday night in Texas," she says. "High school football is a big thing around here, and Y/N has a nephew in band and another on the football team."

"Well I guess we're going to a football game." David smiles.

          - X - X - X - X - X -

Homecoming is tonight and while you have one nephew playing in the football game, your other nephew who's in band is also running for Homecoming King. You had your entire outfit planned out, but after an unexpected cold front pushed through earlier that morning, the night time temperatures are expected to plummet and you need to rethink a few things.

There's still a couple of hours before you need to leave, so you're relaxing while you can. But just as you've gotten comfortable watching some mind-numbing reality tv show, your doorbell rings. Then quietly groaning, you get up to go see who's there.

As soon as the door is opened, Natalie and Jeff pop confetti cannons and David shouts Surprise!, recording the entire thing. Your mouth drops open, but then you're quick to smile and laugh.

"Oh my god!" Immediately pulling Natalie into a hug, you hug her before switching out for David and then Jeff. "Not that I'm not happy to see you, but what are you guys doing here?"

"I missed you!" Natalie gushed. "And where I go, David goes."

You smile and then look at Jeff, raising an eyebrow at him. "What?" He chuckles. "I missed my best friend."

You coo and hug him again, David giggling. "I caught that on camera. I'm showing Todd."

"Shut up."

Ushering the trio into your house, you help them bring in their bags as Natalie casually mentions just how long they'll be here for. "Okay so I got two spare rooms and a couch. Or if someone wants to bunk together, that's fine too."

"I want the room." Natalie and David say simultaneously.

Everyone looks at Jeff and he shrugs. "I haven't had a good nap or night's rest since Y/N left. If you think I'm sleeping in any room other than hers, you're delusional."

You laugh. "That's good to hear because I was wondering how I was going to wrangle you into my bed without seeming clingy."

You quickly show David and Natalie to their rooms, and then lead Jeff to yours. He whistles as he walks in. "Now this is what I'm talking about," he muses. "Your place looks homey."

"Well I hoped it would. I've lived here for five years."

You meet Natalie and David in the hall, leading the way back towards your living room.

"What's up with this weather?" Your sister asks. "I was expecting heat and humidity like you're always complaining about."

"If you wanted that miserable Texas weather, you should have been here last night. Cold front pushed through this morning and it's only expected to get colder. Especially when the sun goes down."

"So we're going to be sitting in that tonight? Natalie said something about a football game," David wonders.

"Yeah. But not just any football game," you grin. "It's Homecoming which means the stands will be packed, and a King and Queen will be crowned before the game starts. Which speaking of," you then address Natalie. "Devon is running for King."

"Aw. Yay!" She muses.

"Yeah. So if you guys are gonna join, we have two hours to run to Walmart and find you guys hoodies if you didn't pack any."

"Well I guess we're going to Walmart!" David laughs.

          - X - X - X - X - X -

Natalie easily ends up finding an outfit from your closet to wear to the game while the boys opt for their regular jeans and shirts from their luggage, and a hoodie bought from Walmart.

You're finishing getting dressed when David and Jeff enter the room, relief evident in their features when they see you're pulling a high school themed t-shirt atop a black long sleeve rather than having caught you less dressed. Your hair is down and curled, and a sparkly headband drapes across your forehead. Natalie then exits the bathroom in a similar outfit to yours.

"What time does this game start?" Jeff finally asks.

"Seven thirty, but we'll need to get there about an hour or so earlier," you say. Glancing around, you asks, "Has anyone seen my garter?" Their expressions are rather confused, and your eyes roll. "Homecoming garter," you reiterate. "You wear it over your clothes, not under."

"Oh."

You snort at their simultaneous exclamation.

"Is this it?" Natalie picks it up from your bedside table. "Aw. Cute!"

You take it from her, bending down to step into it with your right leg and draw it halfway up your thigh. The artificial, white chrysanthemum has been sprayed with glitter and a small football player and musical notes have been glued on it. Ribbons, at least six inches long and in your old high school colors, hang down. Two ribbons bear the names of your nephews, two others bear the words HOCO 2019, and there are two miniature cow bells dangling.

Your sister and friends stare at it in confusion, and you huff a laugh. "Girls are typically supposed to wear mums that are pinned to their shirts and boys wear garters on their arms, but I don't like pinning something heavy to my shirt and bra strap, so garter it is."

"I've seen memes about mums," David says. "But the ones they show are usually bigger and being held up by a strap around the neck."

"Oh you'll see those," you tell him. "I personally think those are ridiculous, but the teenage girls love them. Just wait and see." Then after slipping your feet into a pair of boots, you make sure you and your guests have everything they need before leaving.

          - X - X - X - X - X -

You luck out and find one of the last parking spaces in the parking lot, and then pull out four small fuzzy blankets from your car trunk. Jeff, Natalie, and David seemed skeptical of you needing them, but after seeing several other people walking in with blankets, they agreed that maybe it was a good idea to have them close by.

You pay for four tickets, after convincing Jeff and David that they could buy dinner later, and then lead them towards the bleachers. They're surprised by how many people have shown up and David is far too amused when he sees just how crazy big the mums get. Then leading them towards your usual spot, close to the band and halfway up the bleachers, you all take a seat and watch as they look around to take in the hyped atmosphere.

"This is crazy!" David laughs, looking around at the packed stands. "I can record. Right?"

"I don't see why not. Just bleep out last names."

"Of course."

Both football teams take the field to warm-up and music blares from the scoreboard speaker.

"Not to be a downer," Jeff says, leaning towards you so you can hear him, "but is your old high school football team even good?"

"Well right now they're five and one," you say. "Tonight should be a good game."

The band soon marches out and takes their place in the stands, as well as the dance team. You clap and cheer for them all, waving at several familiar faces that have made an appearance or three with your nephews at your house. Girls in beautiful dresses start making their way towards the field and Natalie coos at them.

Then just before you can cave and wrap yourself in a blanket, one of the cheerleaders rushes up to you. "Y/N!"

"Hey, Dee. What's up?"

"Devon needs an escort. His mom is not going to make it."

Your eyes widen. "What?"

"Devon really wants you to walk him on the field. He nearly started crying when his mom called."

"Fuck," you curse softly. "Is he sure? I mean, his other aunts are here too. Is he sure he-"

"Yes," Dee assures you, smiling. "So are you in or out? I need to go make the change up in the press box if you agree."

"Do it! Do it!" David gleefully urges you.

Natalie is eagerly nodding and Jeff nudges you. "Go on. I'll keep your spot warm."

"Fine. I'll do it."

As you take off with Dee, Jeff, Natalie, and David remain in the bleachers.

"So what are the odds of Y/N's nephew getting king?" Jeff wonders.

"If I remember correctly, Devon's been in band all four years of highschool."

"So he's a band nerd."

"He's not a band nerd," Natalie chuckles, swatting at David. "He's pretty popular, but I'm not sure he's as popular as the football players running for king as well."

"Okay and what about the football player nephew?" Jeff wonders. "What's his number?"

"Uhh.. fifty-six. Right there." Natalie points him out and the boys hum.

"Geez he's tall," David laughs. "Hopefully he hits hard."

Jeff grins. "Yeah. I wanna see some hard hits."

Time winds down and soon enough the Homecoming court takes the field. Boys are escorted by a female family member and girls a male family member. One by one they're called forward, their extracurriculars listed off and what their future plans after graduation are. Then when Y/N and her nephew Devon are called, Jeff, Natalie, and David join the small group of Devon's family to cheer the loudest.

A prince and princess are named first, the crowd cheering and screaming in delight. Then when it's time for the king, David turns his camera on and zooms in on Y/N and Devon. The crowd seems to hold their breath and then.. Devon's name is called. He's won king.

Natalie jumps up, screaming, and David and Jeff laugh as they join the crowd in cheering Devon on. Pictures are taken, congratulations are given, and soon Y/N joins her guests in the stands.

"Holy shit," you breathe in awe, laughing in disbelief still. "He did it. He really won."

"That's so cool!" Natalie gushes. "I'm so happy he won."

"You and me both."

You take your seat and then ten minutes later the National Anthem is being played, followed by the school songs. You clap along when appropriate and cheer for the football team when they run on the field, yelling for your other nephew Ivan.

The game soon starts, the high school bands do their job of keeping the crowds hyped, and you're constantly jumping to your feet to cheer on your nephew's team. It doesn't take much for Natalie and David to join in with the excitement, and while Jeff is a little more subdued you can still see he's having fun.

Just before halftime, your nephews team is leading by only three points. The visiting band is supposed to perform first, so you, your sister, David and Jeff take the moment to leave your blankets behind while getting in line at the concession stand for some hot chocolate and snacks.

This time when you're seated, you and Natalie take a seat one bleacher lower so the boys are at your backs. You and Natalie cheer on Devon who's performing in the band, and then settle back down for the third quarter. And just as the game gets underway, a small family in front of you starts to have trouble with the cold. Well the parents don't, but their children do. And feeling guilty, you unwrap your blanket from around your shoulders and tap the mother on her shoulder. She refuses the blanket at first, but after pushing it on her she accepts and wraps her children in it. They visibly sigh in content and you go back to watching the game, ignoring your sister's beaming smile directed at you.

Arms wrap around you from behind, Jeff using his blanket and body heat to keep you warm. "That was the nicest goddamn thing I've ever seen."

"I felt really bad," you mumble.

"Hashtag couple goals." Natalie laughs at David's remark, and you and Jeff roll your eyes at the camera now directed at you.

Your nephew Ivan ends up making a touchdown in the fourth quarter and his team barely pulls off the win in the end. And by the time the game is over, you're more than ready put your car heater on full blast and drive to the nearest Whataburger before going back home.

Then sitting around a table at Whataburger and fiddling with your half eaten food, you say, "I know this place isn't what you're used to, so I hope you have at least a bit of fun during your stay."

"Trust me, this is perfect," David says. "The partying kind of caught up to me and I've been meaning to take a break from it all." Natalie nods along with his assessment.

"I like a good party," Jeff then says, "but sometimes a person just needs some down time. And their best friend." He nudges you with his shoulder and you huff a laugh. "Don't think too much. We'll be happy to do whatever you want to do."

"I have a couple of interviews lined up this week, but afterwards I'm all yours."

The reunion between your dad and Natalie is a tearful one, and then a regretful one when David and Jeff hit it off a little too well with your dad and brother. David and Jeff thought their friends were bad with the sex jokes, but more often than not you and Natalie were left blushing as the boys died of laughter whenever your dad and brother did their best to embarrass you.

Your job interviews also went fairly well, but you just weren't feeling those particular hospitals. Natalie guessed you were still holding out for something in LA, but you just didn't know. You thought any hospital would do, but apparently you were picky.

The cold weather then proceeded to go away after day three, and your sister and friends regretted taking the cold for granted. Texas heat and humidity were no joke, and they finally got to experience it firsthand. Especially when a severe thunderstorm took everyone by surprise and a bolt of lightning struck a tower nearby, triggering the tornado siren. You'd never seen your sister or David look so terrified, but after a phone call from your dad that the siren was a false alarm, everyone calmed and stayed awake until the storm passed.

Natalie, David, and Jeff only have one more day with you, so they're taking full advantage of being lazy before they have to get back to work.

David and Natalie are laid back in your recliners, dozing off after a fulfilling lunch, whereas Jeff has laid out on the couch with his head in your lap as you scroll through your phone. Your phone dings with a new email and you click over to see whether it's important or spam.

Important. It's important.

"Up, up, up." You tap the top of Jeff's head until he moves, you then standing up. All three occupants of the room glance at you. "I, uh, I need to make a Skype call so please steer clear of my bedroom until I come back out."

Natalie, David, and Jeff watch you go.

"What do you think that's about?" David wonders.

Natalie shrugs. "Dunno. She'll tell us when she's done."

Nearly an hour later, the trio are anxiously waiting. They'd tried eavesdropping through the door, but unfortunately couldn't hear anything.

You finally return to the living room, expression neutral and feeling like there's been a weight lifted off your shoulders. "So," you start, startling them. "I got an email earlier. From a hospital in LA." That seems to pique their interest. "The board of directors wanted an interview with me, but since we're states apart, they had to settle for an interview over Skype."

Natalie slowly grins. "And?"

"They like me." You huff a laugh, your body relaxing as Natalie squeals. "They were impressed with my resumé, and most of that Skype call were the other nurses who'd taken over and gave me a tour of the hospital, as well as introducing me to other members on staff."

"Wait, so you got the job?" David asks, beaming.

You nod, laughing. "I got the job!" Natalie, David, and Jeff all cheer, jumping to their feet and hugging you in congratulations. "The girl whose position I'm taking over still has to finish out her contract, so I won't be starting until mid-January."

"That's awesome," David muses.

"Yeah. So I'll be spending Thanksgiving in Texas and then fly out afterward since the family is all doing something different for Christmas. I don't wanna be pulled in three different directions, and anyways I rather spend Christmas with my sister."

"Yesss! I'm so happy!" Natalie gushes.

"You and me both." You sigh. "I'm so ready to start this next chapter of my life, especially with you guys by my side."

#fanficimagery #imagine #vlog squad imagine #vlog squad x reader #natalie mariduena imagine #david dobrik imagine #jeff wittek imagine #natalie mariduena #david dobrik #jeff wittek #vlog squad

[the-fiction-witch]

Play Time

REAL LIFE: SCANDAL COUPLE: TBS X READER RATING: FUNNY

"What the fuck has my Channel become?" Y/n asks behind the camera as Thomas sat in his tall actors chair with Newt written on the back of it, he leant on the table drinking from a bottle of cheap vodka

"Us getting drunk and making poor decisions" He answers

"Yes. It is" she laughs sitting beside him "Do you remember what w are doing?"

"no!"

"Why not?"

"You didn't tell me" "Yes I did I text you" "I only read up to come over and get drunk with me"

"Okay so what happened is I went to a toy store and basically anything that was on the shelf that was like a mystery surprise thing I grabbed and now we are drunk and going to look at them" she explained

"why drunk though?"

"Because I thought that we pretty much before children when we are drunk so... then we are the target audience"

"Ages five and up. And very drunk adults" He laughs

"Exactly" she smiled "how drunk are we?"

"Uhhh four beers, a bottle of rose, two little like travel whiskeys and this much of a vodka" He says showing the vodka bottle

"wanna see what's first?"

"Yes! Because I was told there was one bought especially for me?"

"There is" she smiled grabbing something "first the things that infuriate me so very much" she says throwing a Lol ball across the table

"Oohh these things that make you so very mad"

"they do, Becuase... Plastic waste"

"did you just pick one at random or did you get like a witchy feeling about the one you picked?" he asks

"No I just grabbed one off the shelf and the lady at the till thought I was crazy for spending. No joke over fifty pounds in a toy store this morning"

"May I open it"

"you wanna open it?"

"I have been given a toy, I wanna open it. I don't like the mystery" He says

"Okay Thomas you can open this one" she laughs

after five minuets of destroying plastic there was a horrifying glittering doll

"I hate this so very much" He answered

"do you not like it?"

"No, it's a naked child, with very inappropriate clothing I would not like a child wear this outfit, its glittery as all hell. the plastic make me so sad Because its so much waste for such a shit thing"

"and now you see why I hate them

"I do. I understand now and I will join you in this hatred"

"It is not dolphin friendly"

"No it is not! not dolphin friendly. and I don't wanna hurt the dolphins"

"So out of five uuuhhh play times how many play times do you give it?"

"Minus one. it has angered me" He says

"Minus one. first one and we are already in the negatives"

"what's next?"

"Pokémon"

"woo! Pokémon"

"Its a little terrarium with a Pokémon in it and we don't know who we will get"

"who can we get?"

"Uhhh... Just the Eveelutions" she says

"Ohhh, awww they're so sleepy" He says "You can open this one. Because you will get more joy from this then I will"

"You know me so well Thomas" she smiled taking the box and ripping it open "See Japan! they understand the minimal plastic needed for these items" she explained

"You and fucking plastic. God damn hippie"

"You are also a hippie"

"I am, partly because I feel bad for the turtles and the dolphins and seals, you showed me that video of the turtle with the straw up his nose and I was just as hippie as you"

"That video has turned so many people"

"It has, I had a sad time though" he says

"what happened? tell the story while I construct this toy"

"I went to a family wedding my cousin was getting married, and I ended up at some point sat chatting to my eldest cousins little girl, and she sat down with me in her little dress and she said 'Tommy do you know what the most eivl thing in the world is?"

"Ohhh child"

"Yeah, the thing is you have to be so careful when a child asks you that"

"Becuase your just like the things I could tell you little girl"

"The things you don't know"

"Ohh child you don't know"

"You don't know child. Ohhh baby there are things I could say to you that would ruin your whole life." He says "So obviously I said nothing and went No no what's the most evil thing"

"what did she say?"

"she just looked me dead in the eye and said. Plastic"

"Plastic?"

"Yeah, and she like sat talking to me for like a good twenty minuets about plastic waste, waste ending up in the oceans, seal life destruction, Massive company's polluting, Green house gases, fossil fuels, House hold carbon footprints"

"... I wanna hang out with her"

"But all of this is coming out of a fucking adorable little blonde five year old, in this cute little pink flower girl dress"

"Why was she so mad? I mean I love the Ephusiamum and I adore that she's mad but... how did this happen?"

"I don't know, but somehow she knows. and she is pissed."

"Little girl gonna come curb step a bitch if you don't think about the turtles" she laughs "Is this the same little girl who found out about Santa?"

"Yes!"

"Ooohh I saw that. that was horrific. who was it who told her it was your uncle wasn't it?"

"Yeah, he let it slip one Christmas eve that Santa wasn't real and... he said that to a four year old."

"It didn't go well"

"Who did you get?"

"Normal Pre evolved eve"

"Awww that's cute though I like that." He smiled "Evee's sleeping on a little pillow"

"It is cute, I will point out this was the second cheapest thing today"

"I want more of these"

"They make more with like regular Pokémon, I've seen a bunch with like the various game starters"

"I could get a scorebunny"

"You could. You love that dam bunny"

"I do, he is my boy"

"I have not yet found one with cubchoo, But I did see a mimiku and I also love him" "You do, because you feel bad for him"  

"Next before this is just a video of us looking at Pokémon"

"Yeah we should, what's next?"

"We have a tiny Minecraft figure"

"Tiny Minecraft man, Or lady"

"Or animal. I just noticed there is animals too"

"Ooohh. Can I get a bee? I like the bee's?"

"No.. you can get a horse though"

"I don't wanna horse" he whines