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imagine-a-life-like-this · 1 year

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Christmas With Stray Kids (OT8)

Word Count : 2918

Warnings : food mention, that's it, it's very fluffy

Synopsis : Different Christmas traditions with the Stray Kids members.

Author's Note : This is just a little something I quickly whipped up as a Merry Christmas from me to you! Hope everyone has a great day, whether you celebrate Christmas or not! And Happy Holidays to those who don't.

“I made breakfast.” He told her with a smile, pressing two more kisses to her lips. “The table is all set and ready for the queen.”

Bang Chan - Relaxing Day In

Waking up Christmas morning to kisses being peppered all over her face seemed like a dream too far out of reach just a year previous. And yet, here she was, giggles escaping her lips as Chan pressed kiss after kiss on her face, not stopping even when she had opened her eyes. He only stopped when she softly called his name, a pout on her lips, the obvious target that he continuously missed.

“I’ll only get out of bed if you give me another kiss.” A demand he happily listened to.

It wasn’t long after breakfast that their house was flooded with the other members of Stray Kids, each carrying a multitude of presents to put under the tree her and Chan decorated at the beginning of December.

The once quiet and serine day quickly turned into loud and chaotic, but they wouldn’t have it any other way. How could it be Christmas without all 8 members together?

Presents were opened, laughs were had, and soon it was dinner. They gathered around the table, passing dishes around to fill up their plates, soft Christmas music playing in the background. “One day, there will be a mini me and a mini you joining us at the table.” Chan whispered into her ear as conversations picked up once again.

“I can’t wait.” They shared a quick kiss to which Jisung screamed out in disgust, complaining about PDA while everyone was eating. “Then look away. It’s our house, we do whatever we want.” Chan looked at her with the biggest smile on his face, his eyes shooting hearts towards her. She was the one, he could feel it in his heart.

By the time everyone left, Chan and Y/n were exhausted. So many plans they had for the night, but instead, they curled up on the couch, each with a cup of hot chocolate, and put on a movie.

She imagined what Christmas would look like in a couple of years. Her and Chan ending the night by saying goodnight to everyone and cuddling up on the couch, their children on the floor as they watched one last Christmas movie to end the season.

And honestly, she couldn’t wait.

It was no surprise to Y/n when she woke up in an empty bed. As much as she’d love to wake up to her boyfriend on Christmas morning, waking up to a complete breakfast made with love was much better.

Lee Minho – Day In With The Cats

And that’s exactly what she woke up to. An empty bed to roll out of just to drowsily stumble into the kitchen to see a table filled with food meant just for her. Minho was just adding the finishing touches to the table before greeting her with a kiss.

“What’s the plan for today?” She asked as they took a seat at the table, quickly digging into the delicious meal Minho spent the last hour and a half slaving over. Though it was only their third Christmas together, this was a tradition for them. One he didn’t plan to give up anytime soon.

“I figured we could just have a lazy day. Stay in our pajamas, watch some movies, play with the cats.”

All three cats were wearing matching pajamas that both Minho and Y/n had as well. A small little family. And that’s exactly what was on the Christmas cards they had sent out.

The 5 of them dressed in matching pajamas sitting in front of the tree with a small Merry Christmas from our family to yours written inside. She liked the sound of them being a family, of this becoming their tradition.

It was hard dating an idol with a busy schedule and tons of overseas trips for more schedules. But knowing that he was coming home to her, to their family, gave her the security she needed that he was staying. He would always stay.

It was supposed to be a warm Christmas this year, or as warm as it could be at the end of December. So as soon as Changbin and Y/n woke up, they immediately got dressed to go outside, deciding to go for a walk around the neighbourhood, enjoy the warm weather.

Seo Changbin – Slow Dancing In The Snow

The quiet walk soon turned into a snowball fight that ended with both of them being covered from head to toe with snow. As the cold settled into their bodies, they decided to head home, make some hot chocolate, and spend the rest of the day by the fire.

But just as they made it to their house, it began snowing. Big, fluffy snowflakes fell from the sky, and Changbin couldn’t pass up this opportunity, no matter how cold he was. He held out his hand for his girlfriend to take, a cheeky smile on his face as he asked her to dance.

A slow song played from his phone as they clasped hands. He rested one hand on her waist, holding her as close as he could. And he led her around their front yard. He softly sang along to the lyrics of the song he chose, not taking his eyes off her face, directing each lyric of love to her.

“This is so cheesy.” She giggled, but she didn’t make a move to stop. Because though it was cheesy, it was so very Changbin, and she loved everything about him.

“I’m so fucking in love with you.” He told her with a smile as the song came to an end. She looked at him, stared at the stars held in his eyes, and fell in love all over again.

“And I’m so fucking in love with you.” He led her back inside, telling her to get cozy on the couch while he whips up some hot chocolate. And they spent the rest of the day cuddled up to each other in front of the fire, talking about their future.

And dancing in the snow quickly became their tradition.

Hyunjin would absolutely not tell Y/n what they were going to do for Christmas. He promised her a day full of love but refused to elaborate on what that meant. No matter how much she pouted, Hyunjin would not budge. He almost did a few times, her puppy dog eyes his absolutely weakness, but he held strong and made it to Christmas without ruining anything.

Hwang Hyunjin – Looking At The Christmas Lights

It started with breakfast in bed, with Kkami of course. And then he allowed her to open one present, the last present in the advent calendar he made for her. A beautiful diamond necklace in the shape of a snowflake, the date he asked her to be his girlfriend engraved on the back.

It was snowing heavily that day, he remembers. He thought he blew his chance, watching her shiver in the cold, barely able to see 5 feet in front of her, yet she happily said yes. Best decision she’s ever made, as she always tells him.

Once she stopped crying over memory lane, they changed into the outfits Hyunjin picked out weeks ago. Matching Christmas sweaters with almost matching bottoms. This is what he was the most excited about. A not so subtle way to tell people she was his.

Next up on his list was to relax until it was dark. They opened presents, took pictures, watched movies, and had dinner in this time. And once the sun set, he handed her a winter jacket that matched his, and off they went for the main event as he called it.

The city was putting on an event full of Christmas lights, and Hyunjin had bought 2 tickets as soon as they went on sale, knowing he needed to see this with the love of his life by his side.

“It looks so pretty!” She squealed as they walked the path, looking at all the lights in different shapes. But he was looking at her, taking in all her reactions. The wide eyes, pretty smile, look of complete awe.

It was their first Christmas together and Hyunjin wanted to make it memorable, hoping to make up for all the cancelled dates and missed celebrations throughout the months they’d been together.

There were a lot of moments within that time that Hyunjin thought he was falling for her, but he never said the words. Said them in his head but refused to say them out loud. But looking at her now as they slowly walked under an archway made of lights, he knew.

And he stopped her by placing his hands on her shoulders, looking directly into her eyes as he said the words for the first time. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She replied almost immediately, and Hyunjin pressed his lips to hers, sealing their words as a promise.

“We’re definitely coming back next year.” And every year after that.

Han Jisung – Kisses Under The Mistletoe

Y/n was certain that the boys were going to get fed up with Jisung’s antics soon, yet every single time he reached into his pocket and pulled out the mistletoe to steal a kiss, they cheered him on.

Helping set the table? Kiss. Washing the dishes? Kiss. Opening presents? Kiss. Listening to Felix talk about the newest video game he’s been playing? Kiss. And still, the boys laughed and cheered like it was the first time.

It’s not that she minded kissing Jisung, she was used to him needing a kiss every couple minutes. It was the spectacle he was making of it. Slowly pulling the mistletoe out while looking at her with mischief in his eyes, and then holding it above their heads. He would look up at it every single time in fake shock as if he wasn’t the one holding it. “Look baby, another mistletoe!” And then he’d pucker his lips.

Every. Single. Time.

But she loved him. And he was lucky that she did because she’s not sure she would put up with it otherwise. Who was she kidding, he’s too cute. Each kiss put a smile on her face eve though she tried to deny how happy the whole thing was making her.

After a few hours with the boys, they decided to head home. Jisung was giggling the whole way and she had no idea what to expect when she opened the door. She was hoping it was just a mess of wrapping paper from when he wrapped the presents, or even a pile of dishes he just didn’t wash.

But she was greeted with mistletoe littered across their ceiling. She couldn’t walk 2 feet without being under another mistletoe. “Would you look at all those mistletoes!” Jisung exclaimed with the biggest smile on his face.

“It’s cute. But you’ll be taking them all down in the morning.” But Jisung didn’t care because she allowed him to kiss her under every single mistletoe. And he knew exactly what he was going to do for Christmas the following year, and every year after that.

Lee Felix – Baking Christmas Cookies

“Angel, did you want to decorate the cookies with me?” Felix asked, poking his head into the living room. She paused her movie and jumped off the couch as fast as she could which made Felix laugh. “I’m going to take that as a yes.”

“I’m doing this so I can sneak some icing while we decorate.” Felix pretended to believe her but he knew she loved baking with him just as much as he loved baking with her.

He turned up the Christmas music he was playing as they got started decorating the different batches of cookies. Every once in a while he would stop and watch her, staring at her concentrated face, tongue sticking out the side of her mouth. And he thought she was the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

He took some icing on his finger, reaching over as inconspicuous as possible, and wiped it on her nose. She stopped what she was doing and just stared cross-eyed at her nose before repaying the favor, wiping icing across Felix’s cheek.

Before they knew it, the cookies were forgotten as they chased each other around the house taking turns wiping icing on each other. Felix wrapped his arms around her once they ran out of icing, looking into her eyes, her face covered in icing, and then leaned in, and captured her lips with his. “You taste so sweet, my love.” He teased with a smile.

She leaned in as if going for another kiss but licked some icing off his cheek instead. “So do you, my love.” He chuckled at her cute antics, falling in love with her all over again in this moment.

“Should we grab a plate of cookies and finish that movie you were watching?” She nodded. And that’s how they ended their day. Most of the cookies were left without icing, and their faces were disgustingly sticky, but they wouldn’t have it any other way.

Kim Seungmin – Trying A New Recipe

Seungmin returned from the grocery store with loads of ingredients, just in case they make a mistake, he told her. She was dancing around the kitchen, which was quite a sight for Seungmin to walk into, but he stayed quiet, leaning against the doorframe, and watching her.

“Yah! Kim Seungmin! You scared me.” He chuckled as he set the bags on the counter before pressing a quick kiss to her lips.

“I’m sorry. Would you forgive me?”

“I guess so. Since you’re so cute. What are we cooking today?” She asked, looking through the bags at all the ingredients he bought. Seungmin opened the recipe on his phone, showing her the picture of how it’s supposed to look. “Ooh that looks delicious! I can’t wait!”

The first time it was far too salty, completely inedible. The second time they burnt it. And the third time they forgot one of the key ingredients. Starving and completely annoyed by how their cooking was going, they both agreed to just order in some food, and save the cooking to the professionals.

“Cooking just really isn’t for us, is it?” Y/n asked as they dug into the food they ordered.

“It really isn’t. But we gave it our best shot.” Seungmin didn’t really care that the recipe he wanted to try so badly didn’t work out because he just enjoyed the time he spent with his girlfriend.

And he promised to find an easier recipe to try for next year. And she said she’ll be ready to order in once they fail.

Yang Jeongin – Playing In The Snow

When they woke up, it was snowing. Not too heavily, but enough to stick to the ground. Jeongin was ready to skip all the plans they made the night previous and just play in the snow. She wasn’t as excited but promised him that they could after opening presents.

Just as he promised the night before, he helped her make breakfast, which mostly meant he hugged her from behind as she cooked and told her she was such a good cook. But he did set the table once the food was almost ready and helped bring the food to the table, which was good enough for her.

They washed the dishes together, both softly singing to the Christmas music playing from her phone. Jeongin would never admit it, but he wasn’t really paying attention to anything that wasn’t her. Just going through the motions of washing the dishes as he snuck glances at her, smiling to himself as he thought about how lucky he was to have her.

He ran out into the snow as soon as all the presents were opened, and she slowly followed after him, watching as he immediately started on a snowman. “Baby, come help me!” He pouted at her when he realized she was just standing on the steps. And she couldn’t resist his pout, no matter how badly she wanted to.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” She joked, rolling some snow into a ball for the body of the snowman.

The two stayed outside for hours, all their other plans slipping from their brains as they focused on the snowman army they decided to create. She hated the cold, but she loved Jeongin. So even though she was almost freezing, she continued making more snowmen, knowing she’d get her revenge when they return inside by wrapping herself around him, soaking in all his warmth.

“Baby, you look really cold. Let’s go back inside now.” Jeongin said as he approached her, wrapping his arms around her before giving her a quick kiss. “I’ll make us some hot chocolate and we can watch a movie.”

“Can we order some pizza?”

“Of course. Let’s go.” He led her inside and did exactly as he promised, placing the mug on the table in front of her as she completed the pizza order. She immediately koalaed him, wrapping herself completely around him, but he didn’t seem to mind, letting out a laugh as he held her close, wrapping a blanket around her. “My baby is really cold isn’t she?” He joked. She just hummed in agreement.

She really didn’t like the cold, but she would play in the snow every single day if this is how the day would end.

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bunny-rambles · 2 years

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The void will happily talk back if you use chicken. I know from experience with my brother's adorable baby void named Nessie.

(I saw in the tags how you wanted the void to talk back and this was the first thing I thought of. I've heard getting a pet can help alot with depression and anxiety so if it's financially possible and you have the space maybe consider it? Might still be a bad time though so pictures will have to do for now.)

Meet Nessie: My brother adopted her when she was a kitten and she used to be so smol and adorable I had to sit outside with her next to the stairway because I was worried she'd slip between the bars and fall through. While my brother was preparing to move out he had to leave a few times for about a week or so, in which case I was in charge of feeding her. As a result, I'd have her following me for most of the day, cuddling and demanding attention: only for her to abandon me at the first chance to run over to her food bowl. Even when I was in the middle of preparing her food aka holding the can of wet food and bringing it downstairs she would follow me, brushing against my legs so it was hard for me to walk, especially as I was going up and down the stairs.

There were a few times where she would come into my room and fall asleep on me, specifically my chest and her head would be pressing against my mouth which made it gard to breath. Not to mention she was getting a bit chonky at the time which didn't help things.

Idk if it's a good or bad thing but she was incredibly quiet even as a kitten. Whenever she did meow it always sounded like the world's most politest complaint made in the body of an incredibly sweet and affectionate fur baby. She never screamed though and only ever purred or trilled, sometimes with the occasional chirp if you picked her up suddenly.

My brother bought the sweater a looong time ago. Turns out it was in preparation for this inevitable moment. I'd also use it to punish her whenever she stressed out our family cat Pingpong to the point of violent screaming. (Poor pingpongs too old for this shit while Nessies just a baby who wants to play)

She used to be smol...it was adorable.

She also would jump onto the dinner table specifically when we were eating. Thanksgiving dinner was an interesting experience that year.

And here she is on our piano. Shame both my brother and I stopped playing a while ago, I'm sure she would've enjoyed listening to our songs.

No better way to make a day better than eith some cats! Noticed you haven't been doing well lately so I thought why not. Although I am stuck in bed dying from covid, not literally just miserable from some of the symptoms, I have plenty of time on my hands and 10x the cat pictures so if you want to hear more or just want to chat and have someone listen, I'm all ears! The cats say hi too.

You truly are sweet, cat 💞 I think I know why you’ve named yourself that now :,)

I do have a pet, a dog - he’s very sweet but he’s mischievous, and because of mental health reasons, he tires me out with his energy. Doesn’t mean I don’t love him though, I do occasionally go downstairs to cuddle him if I’m feeling extra miserable. (because he’s not allowed upstairs in case he puts something dangerous in his mouth - he’s not exactly the best behaved, but that’s kind of on us. Not vicious or even bad, just a little shit at times. If we can’t get him to drop something though, I fear more for his safety than getting my stuff wrecked) I’ll most likely do that in the morning though because he’s probably fast asleep <3

But I used to have a cat too, I prefer cats to dogs but I’m not getting another pet until my dog passes. When we got him as a puppy, I think it stressed my cat out and made her jealous. I’m not going through that again with my dog, it just ends badly. But, seeing your kitties did make me smile (and cry a little because I miss my own. I don’t usually cry about it but it’s just;;; been a very bad night) and I’m sure they’re very well loved by you.

Give them head pats from me. I never saw my cat as a kitten, so it’s interesting to hear what Nessie was like as one. (And oooh such a cute name, and ping pong too! Very very cute)

The sweater of shame OTL my cat used to have this fluffy collar on at Christmas and she HATED it. She did the exact thing Nessie did, just flopped over completely defeated. Can’t lie though, it was pretty funny. If you have any more pictures of her, feel free to share them, just apologies on delayed replies. (But unfortunately, you know that by now :/ sorry)

I had to reply to this one though, just because I wasn’t expecting anyone to even care about reading anything like that I posted. I hate myself for being so open sometimes, but where else can I go? This account is my safe haven. But I don’t want to disappoint anyone with my emotional ramblings of my problems. Sigh. But anyway, thank you. Very much. 💞💞

(Sorry if anything sounds weird or nonsensical I’m half asleep)

(Oh, and please rest up, I hope you’re feeling better soon dear 💞)

#bun speaks #🐈‍⬛ anon #fitting emoji now #nessie anon hehe #i love her she’s very precious #pingpong too #sweet babies #thank you

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bunny-xoxo · 3 years

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HQ boys “diva jam”

mult. x reader

warning(s): none <3

a/n: girlie ty for this request this was so much fun! The premise is what songs the boys would lowkey jam to in priv and their s/o catches them <3 I hope you guys enjoy!! And as always I love your thoughts :)

characters: daichi, kuroo, bokuto, kyotani, & ushijima

Daichi: Telephone - Lady Gaga ft. Beyoncé

It’s Beyoncé’s part specifically that gets his ass to shake

He’s actually home before you for once so he decides he’ll be a sweetie and start dinner, maybe even have it be done before you get home! And who cooks without jamming to some music in the background?

When you open the door to the apartment and smell dinner, but also hear what you think is Lady Gaga, you’re sure somethings going on that you need to be sneaky to witness

And boy are you glad you were quiet cause the sight in front of you is glorious:

Daichi belting Beyoncé so hard his voice cracks while he attempts to do the... robot? Shake his ass? You’re not really sure - but he’s into it and it’s kinda cute?

You’re doing your best to stay quiet while you record but the moment Lady Gaga comes back in and he sighs and skips the song is when you lose it

His eyes are so wide when he turns around and he even shouts a little cause you scared him so bad - he was really in the moment

He’s a good sport but he’s definitely blushing while he laughs and is pulling you into a hug, demanding that you don’t sneak up on him anymore

He also asks to watch the video after though and compliments his own ass

Kuroo: Love - Keyshia Cole

When I say this is this man’s song I mean it, he is SINGIN it at 100% whenever it comes on no matter when & where

You’re cleaning the house with him when this song comes up on your playlist, and you know better than to skip it, even if you wanted to spare your ears today

But you also knows this means the two of you are gonna catch a little break so you sit back and enjoy the show

Within the first four beats he looks at you and gasps before he dramatically starts singing into the broom handle

And I mean singing

He’s looking at you damn near tearing up as if he wrote the song about you

It’s the moment he starts stomping his foot along to every word at the second time the chorus comes around that you whip your phone out

He doesn’t even care you’re recording, puts on a little show for the camera too

Afterwards he has to chug some water cause he’s so out of breath from singing and laughing with you

You love your goofy boyfriend and he loves you <3

He does make you send the video to him once you’re done cleaning though so he can post it on his Instagram with some cringey cheesy caption like “we’re so crazy 😝” LMAO

kenma bullies him and bokuto’s in tears in the comments

Bokuto: Yucky Blucky Fruitcake - Iamdoechii

Somebody help you, cause this is all you’ve been listening to for days

It’s been stuck in his head because of TikTok and it’s all he’s been playing all day every day - he says it’s the only way to get the song out of his head but he just has a problem with obsessing over things and songs is one of them

but somehow he only knows the first line ??😭 he just jams to the rest - he’s also been telling you it’s his “hot girl summer anthem” ,,, bo

He blasts this song with the windows down whenever he’s driving with you right now and he plays it on repeat with no mercy

When he’s not singing (the first line) he just has this big dopey smile on his face

He also feels the need to ask you to explain the dark web almost every time the song mentions it cause he forgot what you told him the last time he asked 😭

One time it reminded him to take the chicken out of the freezer and then he wouldn’t shut up about how this song was a blessing

please, someone show him another song he’s running it dry at this point

You record him after he’s played it for the fourth time in a row, just screaming for him to play a new song as he turns it up and ignores you

Akaashi texts you he’s sorry cause he’s the one who showed him the song

Kyotani: Fantasy - Mariah Carey

You guys are chilling at his place with his music playing in the background, just talking and cuddling - some true good s/o quality time

And then Mariah Carey comes on

He stops mid sentence and skips past the song so fast - he’s so embarrassed?? Like stutters over his next few words after he skips the song and then just sighs and rolls over like 😑

Even when you nuzzle into his back giggling and trying to ask him what’s wrong he just groans and rolls onto his stomach with his face now buried in the pillows

“Are, are you embarrassed because you like Mariah Carey?”

It’s not something to be particularly embarrassed about, but you don’t know what else could be getting this reaction out of him

He cranes his neck to look at you with a pout and mutters a grumpy yes

Why would you not laugh at how bizarre this is, which only makes him try not to smile and push you away, insisting this is some form of mental abuse

It’s a few days later in the car when Mariah comes on again, but before you can change it you turn it up and start singing along - you thought that maybeeee if you showed some enthusiasm he’d let himself enjoy the damn music 😭

Well now it’s a few minutes later and Mariah’s not the only one trying to hit those whistle notes

You don’t think you’ve ever seen his mouth open so wide

You’re snorting so hard in the passenger seat at this point, trying to get out something about not crashing the car but he can’t hear you over his screaming and your sobbing

You pull your phone out to record the memory before it’s too late and as soon as this man catches you he’s trying to skip the song and look out the window as if that didn’t just happen, but you can see the remnants of his rare smile on his face

There’s just something bout Mariah Carey for this man - see also: we belong together

Ushijima: Kiss Me More - Doja Cat ft SZA

The two of you are driving home from grocery shopping feeling very tired but content when Ushijima’s suddenly turning down the radio and tapping your thigh to get your attention

“Hey, will you play that one song by that one girl who sings about good days or something, and the other one who made a song about, I think, a famous person, but I think it’s really about her boobs?”

Ushijima, what

You just look at him like,,, I have literally no clue what you’re talking about

He spends the next five minutes doing an awful job of trying to explain the song to you until he sighs and gives in, humming awkwardly while he snaps his fingers 😭

“I lofnabashmy TONGUE up on.... it?”

You’re trying not to giggle once you think you know what song he’s talking about, and hook up to the aux to, hopefully, play what he’s looking for

As soon as the first few beats of the song starts, Ushijima shoots you a glance from the side with a big thumbs up before he brings his attention back to the road.

At first it’s normal, just the song playing while you start to doze off, that is until you hear Ushijima singing along again and even move his head a little to the words.

Seeing him with the tiniest smile as he tries to remember the lyrics with his head moving back and forth, of course you’re gonna pull your phone out and record your adorable boyfriend.

Yeah, as soon as Tendou gets the notification on Snapchat and sees the video, “Kiss Me More” is now Ushi’s unofficial anthem.

————————

this was literally so much fun????

requests are most definitely open yall pls send me more hq ones I miss them :)

taglist: @plutowrites @sweet-darling91

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amazingmsme · 3 years

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Hot Boy Summer

AN: Here’s my fic for the @ticklesofcolor fic exchange! I wrote for @calmturquoise & I had a blast writing this fic for you! So sorry for the delay, I just finished up with my associates & I had to write 2 final papers. I hope you’re okay that I was liberal with your prompt, since I went with Zuko & Sokka it would kind of be hard for him to use his bending to tickle someone, but I still tried to incorporate it! I also completely threw in the towel with this title. I hope you enjoy it! Sokka & Zuko just play off of each other so well.

Zuko was hot. Like strictly temperature wise Sokka told himself. But firebending proved to be quite useful to him. When they were camping, he was the warmest to sit next to. Not to mention, he made great fires for roasting weenies and marshmallows. But Sokka's favorite thing about it was that it meant he was pretty easy to tick off, which made for good fun.

He would never actually get too angry, so he assumed he didn't actually mind it all that much. And the truth was, he didn't. Zuko never really had friends of his own, and the playful teasing, if annoying, was actually fun. The others picked up on the habits too. It ended up with Toph claiming Zuko as her body pillow to hug against while she slept.

"Hey, can you hold this?" Without waiting for an answer, Sokka shoved a wet clay bowl in Zuko's warm hands.

"Wha- uh- sure," he said, perplexed but not setting it down. Sokka's cheeks were puffed out like a frog from trying to contain his laughter. Zuko realized what he was trying to do and huffed to keep himself from chuckling along. "Hell no, go find a kiln," he said, shoving it back in Sokka's hands.

As annoying as it was, it made Zuko feel... accepted. Like he was actually a part of the group instead of the outcast he was so used to being. He thought that they would all hate him: fearing his flame and mistrusting of everything he did. But that wasn't the case. And it felt good. He felt like, maybe, he could return the playful teasing. Toph was surprisingly easy to embarrass when he mentioned how "hot" she must thing he is from cuddling him all the time. Coincidentally, an embarrassed Toph and an angry Toph we're pretty much one in the same, and a sharp rock had launched him several feet in the air.

Katara could see right through his attempts at teasing, at being friendly, but she was still not amused by him. Aang was too happy all the time to get a rise out of him, though it was still fun to mess with the young avatar. Sokka was the most fun however. He had a sense of humor, and even though Zuko's wasn't what you'd consider "good" the other boy could still recognize what was meant to be a joke or a tease and deliver one right back. He was dramatic, and therefore, very easy to evoke a reaction.

He couldn't help but notice how the rest of them were very physical. Like, they'd constantly be touching each other. At first he found it a little unsettling, but they had done a pretty good job of making him get used to it. And eventually, he began reaching out to them.

So when Sokka grabbed his wrist and squeezed a pressure point to make a flame shoot out to toast a mallow. He snatched his hand back and shakes a finger in his face to scold him. "Alright I've had just about enough of you using me as your personal lighter!" he admonished, the smirk on his face revealing his amusement. Sokka's smirk was even wider. More smug and full of pride.

"Why? It's not like you'll do anything," he taunted, crossing his arms over his chest. Zuko glared at him. He was right, he'd probably just let it slide. Except he'd watched how they all play with each other and wanted them to know he could be fun like that too. He always hesitated to reach out, but he wanted to change. So they were both a little shocked when he shoved Sokka to the ground and sat on his legs, just above the knee. He blinked a few times then chuckled. "Nice try flambo, but it'll take more than just sitting on me to teach me a lesson," he sassed.

"I know," he said, looking down at him. He'd seen the others tickle Sokka to tears when he won't knock it off with the lame jokes, so he knew this method would be affective. Except, he didn't really know where to start. He'd never been in many tickle fights with his sister, and when he did he usually didn't win. But it had been years since he'd engaged with someone like this. But he'd watched enough, he was sure he could figure it out!

He gave a tentative poke to his belly, eliciting a quick squeak. Sokka's eyes widen and a nervous grin breaks out as he shook his head. Zuko placed a few more pokes to his stomach and sides before wiggling his fingers over the skin. Sokka was squirming and giggling lightly which... wasn't right. He'd seen the others get him, he should be howling with laughter. So why wasn't he?

"W-wohow you're really bahad at this," Sokka spoke fairly easily. Zuko huffed and shoved him against the ground and clambered away to stand. Sokka sighed and reached up, snatching his wrist. "Hey don't go, I was just teasing."

Zuko glared at the ground, lower lip jutting out slightly in a mix between a scowl and a pout. "Why not? It's true." When he didn't move to sit back down, Sokka yanked him to the ground, none too gently he might add.

"Ow! You didn't have to do that you know!" he complained, leaning to the side so he could rub his sore butt. Thankfully the grass cushioned his fall, but unexpectedly crashing down on your tailbone was never fun.

He shrugged. "I know, but it was the easiest way to make sure you wouldn't leave." He offered a softer, more genuine smile. "Besides, it's not your fault you don't know how. I doubt you had much time for goofing off like that," he said, his voice sympathetic. Zuko nodded shyly.

"Yeah, once mom was gone, things really picked up. And they were never easy before, but everything just got a lot more intense after that," he admitted. After keeping things bottled up all his life, it felt good to get it off his chest. Not all at once, but slowly; small things, like now.

Sokka seemed to mull something over in his head before deciding, "I can teach you if you want." Zuko blinked in surprise.

"Really?"

He nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! I mean, I can't leave you all defenseless like that," he teased with a poke to his side. His lip twitched in a smile and he jerked away.

"Hey I can defend myself just fine! But um, who's our first target?" he asked slightly confused, staring out at the others spread around their small camp. "'Cause I think Aang'll be our best bet-" he rambled on, unaware of how Sokka was creeping up from behind.

"You are!" Zuko barely had time to process what he said before a pair of arms wrapped around him and pulled him back against Sokka's chest. He gasped as realization dawned on him and he tried to pry himself free.

"What? Why me? I-I can't learn like this!" he yelped. His friend only laughed.

"You will. You gotta know what different techniques feel like so you can get the best reactions. You gotta try different things 'cause certain things work better on some people," he explained. The way he was so casual about it just embarrassed Zuko even more.

"I appreciate the sentiment but I'm really more of a hands on kind of learner," he said as he squirmed. Sokka practically lit up.

"Then this is perfect! See? Hands-" he held them up for him to see before immediately diving for his stomach. "On!" Zuko practically screamed.

"Nohoho! Thihihis ihisn't fair!" he squealed through his laughter.

"What do you mean, of course it is! I'm giving you a lesson in tickling 101!" he chirped happily, kneading at his sides. Zuko cackled and doubled over, hands weakly prying at his wrists.

"Nohohot ohon mehehe!" he protested.

"Like I said, in order to tickle someone, you gotta know what different techniques feel like. There's light skittering," he said, demonstrating by spidering his fingers over his ribs. His laughter turned breathy and giggly, the squirming dying down as it became slightly more bearable. "Also quick squeezes," he said as he rapidly squeezed down his sides, making him squeal and twist back and forth. "Oh, and poking! But you seem to have that one down," he said, delivering quick pokes all over his torso.

"Ohohokahay I gehehet ihit! Stohop!" he cried out. Sokka shook his head.

"Not yet, the lesson's not over!" Suddenly, his hands shot down to squeeze his thighs. Zuko shrieked and kicked out, feet scrambling in the grass. "There's squeezing, oh! And kneading!" he said, switching tactics and demonstrating the new technique on his stomach. His laughter deepened as he desperately tried to squirm away, sucking in his belly and leaning away from the touch. This only succeeded in him pressing against Sokka even more, trapping him further in his hold.

"I can't believe I almost forgot one of the most important steps," Sokka said, managing to bring one arm up to smack himself on the forehead for being such an idiot.

Zuko didn't want to know what he meant by that, but then again, he kind of did. Curiosity killed the cat. "W-whahahat's thahat?" he asked. Now that the other boy had brought it up, he simply had to know.

"Teasing of course!" he exclaimed. Oh no, he really shouldn't have asked. "Sokka nohoho dohon't!"

"Why?" he asked, cocking his head. "Are you too ticklish to handle it?" he asked, raising the pitch of his voice in a mocking tone. For some reason, that made the sensations even stronger and all the more maddening.

"Shuhuhut up mahahan!" he squealed, doubling over and pushing at his tickling hands. "You're really not in a position to be making demands," he said smugly. Zuko managed to growl through his laughter. Sokka chuckled at the noise.

"I can't believe it: even when you're giggling up a storm you still try to appear all broody and grouchy!" he taunted. His cheeks turned pink upon hearing this and he tried to hide his face in his hands.

"Sohohokka ohohokay! I gehet it nohohow!" he pleaded.

"Alright, last lesson. You know what raspberries are, right?" he asked. Zuko could remember how his mother would play with him when he was younger, sometimes blowing raspberries on his pudgy tummy or neck. His eyes widen and he shook his head.

"Don't you dahahare!" he tried to scold.

"Oh, I dare," Sokka said with a sly smirk, placing his lips on the nape of his neck and blew hard. A loud, wet fart noise filled the air along with Zuko's wild cackles. He arched his back as much as he could, squirming and thrashing in his hold. He managed to twist away and shoved Sokka's face back with a little more force than necessary.

Sokka's shit eating grin remained plastered on his face. "You're the worst," he spat out between panting breaths. He closed his eyes and shrugged, clearly pleased with himself.

"You're welcome." Zuko's blush burned brighter and he playfully punched his shoulder. "I didn't say thank you!"

"Yeah but you were thinking it," he teased further. "If you still suck at tickling then there's just no hope for you," he said, patting his back consolingly. A rare glint of mischief shined in Zuko's eyes.

"I think it's coming back to me... Only one way to find out." Before Sokka could react, he slammed into him with his shoulder, knocking him on his back. He wasted no time pinning him.

Sokka stated up at him in shock, already giggling with nerves. "C-can't we talk about this?"

Zuko smirked, cracking his knuckles. "Nope."

#calmturquoise #ticklesofcolor2021 #fic exchange #zuko #sokka #avatar #avatar fic #atla #atla fic #avatar tickle fic #atla tickle fic #ticklish!zuko

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daughterofhel · 3 years

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My icon died last night.

The little black and white cat, Auk (or-ick). A silly name from a badly remembered name from my childhood.

He was pretty much deaf; car got him.

I haven’t seen him since I left Texas, as I moved for a year to VA before finally moving to be with my wife in Vento. One of my guy friends family took him in on their ranch.

It was fitting; I did get Auk from a ranch. He was used to it, loved it even. And this was without the competition of an unhealthy amount of breeding stays like the ones I grabbed him and Ivy up from. I could only take two, my friend the same.

Funny. I had originally gone there to see the birth of a colt only to leave with a cat. Return the next day and get one more, a friend for my tiny runt of a thing.

And who should but all demand it be him to leave with me but Auk? The friendliest of cats that I’ve ever had the pleasure to be around. He also thwarted my attempts at having two girl cats. He was insistent to leave with me and you don’t argue when you’re chosen you know?

I won’t detail the tears following or the rough road and chaos that went on, but many double shifts back to back to back endlessly, a medicated clumsy grandmother with rapidly failing health, and complex roommate situations, I just wasn’t able to provide the needed time and care for my cats.

I cried the entire 45 minute drive to my buddys property when he said he could take them in. I had to pull over twice. They also cried the entire time, being afraid of the car, which made it harder. My buddy, He was the same guy who rescued a big pup clearly abandoned some years back. I had helped train him to not jump on people and other stuff. His folks also owned a longhorn ranch, lots and lots of space.

Those cats deserved better and this was a familiar element, now neutered, vaccinated, and with no stray competition and the dog was so careful. But god. I never wanted to say goodbye to my cats. It didn’t matter though, what I wanted; they needed care and time I wasn’t able to keep providing.

So I dropped them off. As expected, Ivy kept close but never got too close to the family. She simply doesn’t trust; I’ve no idea why such a little thing bonded instantly with me and remained quite the fixed cuddle bug. But she had. I felt worse about it with her than Auk if I’m to be honest.

Auk loved attention. Loved fetch. Belly rubs. This cat was a classic dog and a huge whore for attention. XD He essentially made himself at home and lavished any and all attention, to which my buddies mother instantly fell for this fuzzy dorks charms. He has been well cared for.

I know younger me could’ve and should’ve done better when I got these cats. Mind you, I’ve been gone for over 10 years now, so it has been quite some time. I’m doing what I wish I could have done for my cats then with the two rescues we got last year here.

I was young and working so many hours for nearly no profit after stuff was paid, even living at home and with roommates. I couldn’t afford the extra vet fees I needed or the fanciest of foods or any of that. I loved them, and I felt them being with me instead of the half starving state they were in from constantly competing with so many other cats, was still a better option for them. I still was at least able to do some of the important visits for them.

I cleared their fleas and earmites. I never did get rid of Ivys worms, though I desperately tried. I tried so many ways to get this pill into that cat. Even crushed into wet food. Friends helping to wrap and hold her to make her swallow. All the tricks we found, failed. She just. She wouldn’t take it. And I didn’t have the cash to go every single day and time she needed a dose to a pet clinic. I had checked more than once. It was so much money.

Older, better situated now.. I’ve been able to do right by the cats, Nyx and Tivali, that I have now.

We even saved Nyx’s eye. We have a system to give her her seizure medicine every 12 hours. They’re both fully up to date with their shots and are fixed. Ears totally clean. Monthly newly added anti flea tick collars.

The best food we can reasonably find at the local pet shop; their pelts are beautiful, soft, shiny, and they never smell.

We’ve even found a biodegradable corn based litter we can flush which has been the greatest find.

We get semi regular check ups on our girls and they’re doing just fine now. I’m still proud about saving Nyx’s eye. It was a tedious ordeal. 3-4 times a day we had to clean and medicate a cats eye. We got good at it even if she wasn’t fond of it. Thankfully the vitamins they required were like treats. Even the antibiotics from the colds they had from the shelter.

I miss Auk. And Ivy. And I wish I could’ve not only given them the life I’ve given my current cats now, (I’ve constructed basket beds, hammocks, a whole canopy jungle gym and rope bridge to boot for them with my wife!), but I wish I could have been the one to have them in my life still. I know it was not possible. It wouldn’t have been possible.

But I think of them. A lot. And I knew it was inevitable. Auk would’ve been well over 13 or so years by now. A little old but could’ve lived longer yet for sure. My buddy didn’t mention he has gone deaf. Of course he rarely goes home himself; I don’t blame him. Life’s complicated.

I have mourned these two cats multiple times now. So I’m not thrown into tears upon this news, I’ve cried plenty over the years already. But I’m still sad to hear that fuzzy delight has passed on. I won’t ask, but I hope, and believe, the accident was a quick end for such a friendly guy.

I’ll mourn him eventually in full. I know I will. But considering this is the fourth major bad news I’ve gotten in less than a month and most of it a week, I thought to write about it. If only to keep sane.

May I not receive the same news of my grandmother or my sister who both remain in the hospital.

And god. May my mother stop forcing me to recall and talk about our shared trauma under my father and just keep me up to date on my families health. I don’t want to be crushed under this suffocating vice on my neck that makes me hesitate to call and see my family. I know she needs to vent. And god. I try to let her. I do. I try to be kind; she needs it.

But it isn’t the time and place when I’m trying to figure out if my grandmother is dying or getting better. I shouldn’t have to receive that confirmation, be granted a brief video called hello and check in, with the price of an hour long dredge through a past I personally have gone to two different types of therapy through to try and cope with. Which, only to some degree, have helped.

One of the last longer calls we had she all but said she hoped her theories on my father possible molesting me were true, so, you know, that would be one more trauma we had in common. She went on and on, even trying to provide loose evidence to her theory. Troubling sentences I would say in my rare visits. Etc. She just. Wouldn’t. Stop. And that was after an hour of recalling how terrible her life was with my father and the abuse, the screaming, the terror, the hiding, the injuries, all of it. As if I wasn’t left to live my life with this very man she said her three years with ruined her more than all her past shit combined.

She assured me she was a good mother who tried. And honestly. No. But I do believe she tried. But she was already weak emotionally and mentally and my father wrecked what was left. She left me sometimes for a couple days lock in that house when I was in diapers. You don’t forget that shit. I’m still scared of the dark. I can’t reason with myself on it. But being mad about all of it doesn’t change anything and would hurt a woman already broken. Why would I do that.

Still. It bothers me. So fucking much. But she’s such a fragile person in a fragile emotional state with everything else on top. She’s been heavily depressed for many many years and it’s a bunch of other stuff that spirals and honestly, at this point, she’s toxic even to herself. I’ve tried working on it with her but it matters not if she’s not willing to work on it too. I don’t know my mother besides her many traumas. We’ve been separated and estranged for most of my life. Unless I was physically able to actually be there and provide a use.

But that’s par for the course; no one will have you around if you’re unable to provide something for it. My wife’s the first person who genuinely seems to enjoy having me around just because and wants nothing more. I do stuff of course; but with her I am not afraid a slip up could mean everything it taken away and lost. I can forget the dishes once or had a bad mental health day and stay in bed without it having catastrophic consequences. She’s such a wonderful kind woman; I cannot help stressing over how to repay her.

I try and I’ve expressed my distraught on the topic and though she always seems baffled and confused about my insistence that I should be doing far more, that lass doesn’t agree at all. It’s her parents home so I am not able to freely run the house as I would on our own, as I’m able and have in many places, so I’m often less useful with the restrictions. She’s also use to the flow and swing of things and has things half done before it’s being asked.

Our own place will make life smoother and calmer for both of us; most importantly her. I’ve watched this family, sweet, but absolutely tone deaf to how many and often their demands are tossed to her. All the other kids moved out with partners. Hell, the oldest s child basically lives here. Our own hurdle with raising a kid who we don’t have the final say on any single thing. His grandparents are enablers cuz they don’t want to hear any loud noises, no matter what. And that causes strain when the kid can and does get anything and everything as long as he kicks up a fit. And he sure as hell does. There are days it’s so bad my wife’s in tears. And that pisses me off. The kids a good person, but the fact no one will actually parent and draw definite lines and be firm with No’s can also make him horrible too.

I’ve to deal with the chess match that is my father. I often call him my own personal Devil. He kind of is. But one I’m familiar enough with at this point in my life. I know where and when to cut my losses, where to step around, when I need to swallow my pride or the easily seen through lies, and nod my head. If he was all terrible, I could have cut him from my life. But no one ever really is. And I do know I owe it to the man; he has helped tremendously in my life as much as he’s been a big problem of it. I know his biggest fear is to be alone and forgotten. I wouldn’t do that, not even to the devil.

I need some bland news. Not thrilling. Not depressing. Just some ‘hey that happened’ ‘oh cool.’ Kind of news. Just a small reprieve.

Im. Scared. Of what’s next.

I. Know that things are teetering dangerously into a very very tragic terrible story on my mothers end. I know her husbands already super suicidal. My half brothers severely autistic, non verbal, among a few other things and will require his whole life to have someone be there for him. He’s not stupid, and I hate when people treat him as so, but he is absolutely unable to care for himself. He doesn’t have the right motorskills even, though we’ve gone to many different places to try and help him find ways to do actions in his own way that still get the same result. I admire how he’s such a positive little man, generally not just happy, but delighted. I aspire to look at the world like he does. He reminds me to try. I do love that about him.

He is, however, a Big boy, 15 now, and growing. He’s also very strong now. My mother is getting to an age where his, as well call em happy slaps, are really hurting her. He is generally good about slapping your hands and not your back if you provide them. But when he is upset he is a shover; one bad fall could really cause a lot of chaos for my mother with her health. The husband spends most of his time locked in his room.

My half sister is epileptic. They have done tests for years and can’t figure out all her triggers or the whys. They just sometimes stop for a long time then suddenly happen. She’s 16, turning 17 soon. And I don’t even know if she’s going to be, since my mother won’t let me know. And there are large gaps from my sister being on tech due to concerns of what triggered her seizure this time so she’s often removed from electronic devices for a time.

When I had turned 21, my mother and her husband tried to have me sign a paper to become legal guardian of my half siblings, should something happen to them, so the kids didn’t get separated.

At that time, I was still taking care of my fathers mother along with working at a shit job, and had a house full of temporary roommates who I had offered rooms to as a sort of safe house for them. I have a knack for finding people from broken homes, what can I say? With the house my father and I built, we had space, so I used it. I was able to help the girls get out of toxic places, get on their feet, and move on. Not all of them always. But it did generally work out. One has a boyfriend who was growing worse to her on top of getting more and more into hard drugs while also she dealing with an abusive aunt who got worse once her mother died of cancer. So she was stuck with the terrible boyfriend. I had her stay with me as soon as I heard.

Another was complicated, but generally revolved around the alcoholic mother and the many, shady, men in and out of the house. The dangers of that alone were.. problematic without the friend also being suicidal and not taken seriously. I’ve stayed many times with her to just hang out, clean, cook, or even read a book cuz she just wanted to hear someone talking and such. You know? Until eventually I had her move in with me too.

Another’s mothers died of a cancer and dad an alcoholic; not abusive, he just became childlike and super forgetful. To a hurtful degree in his totally dependent state, whenever he was home. Plus their whole little trailer smelled of piss. And her boyfriend (they’re married with kids and happy now) was in jail. He had a bad past but had cleaned up his act quite well, but. Well that’s complicated. We all know that the police don’t squint at details of any issue if the accused has a problematic past.

I had two different girls with trouble at home who were being used by their family to constantly work, clean, and pay for everything.

I had an ex and her girlfriend with problematic homophobic parents who were terrible and semi violent so I had them stay with us so they could be together somewhere safer.

I did not. At all. Have the assured means to also be a parent of ten children with very different needs nor any medical benefits to help out with.

I also knew, that, with how my mothers husband was, if he had some guarantees for his children’s safety, he would likely end his life if he could. He’s been so close so many times. If signed this paper, he would have the last big most important concern that’s kept him from.. I just. I didn’t want him to do it. I selfishly didn’t want to be responsible for my siblings that would take away any bit of time I had for myself away. If anything happened, I would not abandon and forget my siblings. That’s absurd. But my mother implied heavily she wanted to be sure of that. And thus this paper.

I was struggling to find aid for college so I could go to school (never got to, by the way. Minus two classes in total. Aced them both, but it doesn’t matter. Credits in the wind). I was already dealing with my grandmother. The girls I chose to help. My shit job. My fathers temper and his horrible horrible ‘on again off again’ girlfriend. The chaos that alone committed.

I was busy providing a safe space in my home and making sure it stayed that way for the rare times trouble makers made the mistake of stepping up to my door to try and harass my girls.

I often worked 10 days in a row before a day off. Many of those days often had double shifts which were 16 hours. Sometimes I got an hour nap on the double shifts.

I just couldn’t do it.

And now. I remember something that came to mind back then that comes back to mind now. My moms husband adores my grandma. She’s been better to him than his own mother. She’s dying. He’s not taking it well and his mental health has always been pretty low and in the last couple years, already dangerously rock bottom. I’ll admit, same.

His daughter is now in the hospital. My brother is smart but there are some things we can’t really explain for him to get. He understands something is wrong but not sure what and it upsets him. He doesn’t like change and gets super fussy for it. Which can be taxing and hours and days and weeks of it. Grandmas been in the hospital for a couple more or more now. She coded a few days ago but they got her back.

If grandma dies. If something happens to my sister…

God. I don’t see that man sticking around.

And with my mom isolated. A lot of it her doing with her own family but also a good part of it being dumb petty bs of other folks that have no reason to behave like that (a whole drama I don’t have the energy to keep up with..). I just.

I see it as a domino effect of terrible terrible events I don’t want to write.

My mothers side im not very close to. I don’t blame my cousins, we were kids ajd our meetings were brief as they were. But the adults kept their distance with me. No one expected me to survive and decided it was easier to not get attached. To not get involved with me, and by extension, the devil himself, my father. So I never got the chance to know that family. Even when I tried.

So the only family I do have some ties to ajd know, is in a hospital bed, or on my dads side, and they’re dying to. And I get it… that at a certain age in life, many of the people around you start to. It’s just life. Ajd it sucks. And I miss having a best friend. I miss having friends who just seem to like to have me around. Want to have me around.

And I wonder if the friends I thought I made with my roommates were just because I provided something for them. Sure we laughed a lot, we cried over shared traumas, celebrated holidays together so as to not be alone.

But not a one speaks to me now. And hey. That’s also life. But it makes me feel pretty shitty; every where I look in the past, I can’t see any relationship, family, partner, friendship, that ever had me around unless I was providing services they wanted and needed. And I don’t mean the natural give and take.

I’m aware that I’m not the friend folks have around. I’m a fun distraction at best and have been told and reminded as such. I feel like shit cuz my wife’s wonderful and the best person in my life, and yet I still mourn having close friends to hang with. I miss gaming together the most. Or the bullshitting. Sharing food.

I’m not a nice person. I’m working on it. I am. I’ve also, for years, been working on my own personal problems so as to not bring them into even conversations. I don’t know what I am doing wrong but I just.. can’t seem to keep anyone around. And frankly.

I find myself crying about it a lot with no idea what to do.

And. I’m burnt out.

I don’t want to make friends anymore. And yet I still crave it. Which sucks. I can’t stop seeming to want that. And I keep trying. And trying.

I’m trying to accept and be happy with any bit of time I get from the few friends who talk to me. I try to take my chances where I can to hang out (online, as they’re all distance by now), cuz I know it’s a short window and I’ll be lucky to get a next time in the near future.

Online is harder to provide a use, and once the ‘honeymoon phase’ of the friendship winds down, some drop off the map entirely. A few abruptly. And I just. That’s fucked me ho a ton. I can’t even express how many hours I stay sitting. Thinking. Unable to understand what I am not doing or what I am.

It’s a pity party. I know. But it’s fine. I’m still the only one at it and though I’m quite forward even with nerves eating away at me, I still just don’t know how to keep anyone in my life.

It’s taken almost 6 years for me to relax enough to believe my wife will, in fact, stick around.

But at this point in time, I’ve realized, on a note I just keep getting really sad over, that the bits of friendship I’ll get to experience with people, will be brief, snippets, and frankly, only if I am providing something they’re not getting.

I’m essentially the magazine next to the toilet when you have a bad bad stomach bug and your phones dead.

Man’s that’s.. probably my own doing. I know I’m a lot of woe is me in here. And it’s a post talking to me, so I’m indulging in it. I absolutely can’t out loud or in life. I’m working on just.. trying to feel instead of ignoring it. Per my therapists suggestions. So I feel fucking overwhelmed, sad, and alone. Isolated. Heavily.

Ignorance is bliss for real. I wish I wasn’t so aware that I was the friend you go to when all options are down and you’re bored. When you are in a bind and need a safe spot (I don’t mind that one but it does suck that it’s the only time some folks pop back in or up). That if I’m not working then no one even has a small little want to just say hi. I wish I had people who just wanted to say hi because they just.. missed me? I gues?

I wish I knew how to be better as a person and a friend. I thought I was making strides on that. I really had. And yet.

Here I am. Just.

Bitching to the void. Becuase my wife doesn’t need me to add more to her life with her father (finally back from the hospital after surgery) and his health concerned along with everyone else’s and the own sets of ordeals here. I don’t need her to fret over me.

She’s needed distraction and I’ve left her alone for a couple weeks now to her drawing. Probably one of the best things I did do for her was clean up a space for a literal drawing room for her. She’s happier for it. People compliment her art and she rather enjoys the well deserved attention.

I personally would love to have her around more. But I’m having a lot of bad shit days. Weeks at this point. And I’m using my energy to be useful in setting the table or doing the dishes, the cats, playing with the nephew, etc.

All I want to do is sleep.

Frankly. I’m tired of waking up.

But for her. I will.

#void screaming #ignore

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goldeneyedgirl · 3 years

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JaliceWeek21: Day 8 - Powerswap: Variable Stars 1/3

This is the LAST PROMPT. And such a good one, and I was just... stuck. And it’s only half done, but I thought I’d start posting it now to motivate me.

This started out as a joke and grew feelings and logic and ugh.

I hope you enjoy it, and I’ll do a round-up of everything I wrote once it’s finished <3

variable stars.

mary alice brandon.

What did you think would happen?

The panic is an animal scrambling to get out, pushing against her chest and her throat. She tries not to cry, but she’s shaking and she’s heard the screams that comes out of the room at the end of the hall.

Her face aches, where the orderly hit her to get her to move faster. She’s ice cold - it might be winter, she’s lost track of time - but other than the ugly brown sweater she’s been given, the one that hangs to her knees because nothing fits her right.

“Please,” she asks in a thin voice. When she was little, she had had a lisp. Her mother had called it ‘darling’, but her father wanted her to speak properly. And when she couldn’t, it was better she stayed quiet. She out-grew it eventually, but sometimes, when she’s tired or frightened, she can hear the ghost of it - another part of her old self that haunts her.

(She remembers her mama wasting away, lying on the chaise in the sitting room, looking like she was fading away. She’d sing and cuddle the new baby, but Mary Alice got a kiss on the forehead and an apology, “I’m so sorry, my darling. I’m so, so sorry.” She used to think that the apology was for dying and leaving Alice alone without a mother. She knows better now.)

They march her into the room, badly lit and tiny. She is stripped of her sweater and helped roughly onto the bed, with the tight sheet and the rubber rest for her head. The doctor looks at her like a dead thing, and her breathing speeds up. She tries to twist the hem of her clothing in her hands but they are quickly pinned and strapped to the bed, her ankles too (the straps are loose, she’s too small for this bed).

A hunk of greasy rubber is shoved into her mouth so far she nearly chokes; the taste of it is rancid and nausea swirls as she feels the indentations of other teeth, other mouths. She feels like she’s going to faint, everything is so blurry. But there’s a slap to her face and something is fitted around her head and no one has spoken to her, acknowledged her or explained.

She’s never been so frightened in her life. She’s shaking and the nurse stares down at her with a bored expression on her face, and there’s three blood drops on the woman’s uniform.

One, two, three.

And Mary-Alice Brandon screams.

—

(She was thirteen years old. A ward of the state. A hopeless case. The perfect little guinea pig for the experimental new treatment. Much more efficient than chasing a screaming child around, to force the Metrazol down her throat.)

(They should have waited until she was older, of course. But the doctor’s ego and arrogance were too much, made him too impatient to wait. It wasn’t so much that the future changed - it did, of course - but that the girl who was little Mary-Alice was altered, irreversibly and forever. And that made all the difference.)

—

Three. Three becomes her number.

It took three men to drag her from home in the dead of night (one broke her arm. How pleased her father must have been that they were in such a large house where there were no close neighbours to hear her screams.)

She was thirteen - one-three - when they first push electricity into her poor brain. (Unlucky Mary-Alice.)

She gets three shots, morning and night, bruises blooming like ink in water. (They made her head swim and the world soft. They make her stomach twist and her bones ache. They make her words slow and run together. They steal all of her away.)

She has three different orderlies - the one that twitches and is cold as ice (he doesn’t hit her); the one that calls her names and threatens her (he hits and slaps and pushes her); and the one that comes in to her cell at night (he touches her too much, and is always the one that takes her to the bath.)

Three times a week, she’s marched to the door at the end of the hall and they hook her into the machine and they look at her like she’s something wrong and foul. (She screams and cries and vomits and wets herself. She breaks an ankle because the loops are too loose and she thrashes. They were never fitted to hold a child down.)

She starts looking for threes. She’s broken two bones, she needs to break another. She sees two doctors who shake their heads and write down notes, and she wonders when they’ll bring in a third. She counts the bites of her food to keep them down, curdled and sour in her belly. She counts her steps everywhere she goes, counts the slaps and pinches and shoves they give her.

Three, three, three.

—

The fizz and pop of the machine steals things. It takes her awhile to realise that. At first, it was just time; hours vanish like smoke. Then it was words - she stammers and mumbles and slurs. Then it was memories, what happened before the room.

Then it’s her family, her mother’s face vanishing and her sister’s laughter fading.

(Someone said sorry to her a long time ago. It doesn’t soothe the hurt.)

Then it’s her full name. Mary-Alice Brandon. Mary-Alice.

Mary.

Alice.

(She doesn’t answer to Alice, only to Mary.)

Then it’s her vision. It goes blurry and dark around the edges, and even when she wakes up in her cot, it doesn’t go away. When she tells someone, they huff and shrug and dismiss it - it stops the pictures in her brain so it is worth giving up her sight.

They call her schizophrenic, a word that sounds like static, and a lot of other things. She hasn’t mentioned the visions in a long time; what good are they when she is locked up in cell? When she is convulsing in pain and forgetting everything she ever loved, and shivering in the dark?

(She learns to live without her sight. She relies on her visions sometimes, but mostly, herself. Fingers tracing walls, feet gingerly testing out uneven floor. They let her stumble, and mutter about her blank, cloudy stare. A doctor does examine her eyes, but there is nothing to be done. Perhaps they can prevent this happening to another patient, but for Mary-Alice Brandon, it’s just unfortunate.)

It steals everything except fear. It feeds the fear well, and she knows she’s going to die in this place, hollowed out so that the fear can fill her up. She can see the graves from the window of the laundry, where other patients have died. She has no illusions; those are the dead from the other wards. People who might have gotten to go home again, people who get to eat in a dining room, and take pills instead of shots, who knit for the soldiers and write letters to their loved ones.

People from the basement ward go on to their next life via the boiler room. She knows the stench of that intimately.

(Three people come to the hospital one day - a man, a woman, and a child; the day between her sessions. They are very important because she gets an extra bath and clean clothes, and the orderly brings her in a wheelchair. She cannot see them properly, just shadows and shapes in her gaze. The doctor makes them sit behind her as she answers questions and gives her puzzles to solve. She doesn’t know much, and she can’t get her hands to move properly or stop shaking. The man behind her keeps telling the doctor how ‘good’ it is, and she has a grim feeling her failure pleases him.)

(She’s going to die here, and end up being swept away with a broom.)

—

Three years.

It takes three years for them to break her, to curdle the fear in her heart to rage. To let hate swell in her heart. She fights back sometimes, learns to bite and scratch.

(They break her other arm, and there’s the third broken bone. That’s just fine with her, the heavy plaster cast makes a lovely noise against the face of the orderly who won’t stop touching her.)

She spits and swears and tells everyone the truth. A husband will die, a wife will run away. A child will drown. Debt, loss, prison, she spits her fortunes out with relish, and there are more shots and more slaps, but she doesn’t care.

(She fights like a feral cat when they take her to the room now, fights away from the pain of the device lighting up her brain. It can do nothing more for her, she knows that, than it already has and now they are just using it to cook her brain a little more, until she is soft and pliable like their other victims. She won’t go down like that, won’t let them make her into those people. She gets a few good hits in, and she’s sure they make the machine hurt her worse.)

The cold orderly is the only one who can manage her these days, and she is grateful when she becomes his problem. No more touching, no more hitting. He talks to her in a low, calm voice - “I cannot stop them or any of this yet, little one. But I can try to stop the worst of it.”

She lets him help. She is quiet and docile when he escorts her places. She takes her medications and does as she’s bid and it works, a little. She cannot escape the room at the end of the hallway, cannot stop all the slaps, but some of her bruises get to heal.

(When the cold sets in, he brings her clothes warm from the laundry; he smuggles her mugs of weak tea in tin cups, and swaps rancid porridge for an extra bit of stale bread on her tray. He lies to the doctors that she was ill, and unfit for her ice bath. He makes things a little better for her. In her dreams, she thinks about him falling in love with her, taking her away and marrying her. She doesn’t love him, but she sees her freedom in his kindness, and there are far worse ways to live than quietly married to such a man. If she ever had dreams for her life, the machine has eaten them all away and that’s comforting, because she would hate to realise how far she’s fallen.)

The shock therapy still demands its pound of flesh, and her memory gets worse. He writes her name in big black letters on the wall next to her pillow, but she certainly cannot see it to read it. So he carefully chips it into the wall, where her fingers can feel out the letters.

Mary-Alice. Mary-Alice. She is Mary-Alice.

(Sometimes he reads her things from her file. She’s sixteen years old. She’s from Biloxi, Mississippi. She is a ward of the state with no family - her surname is redacted in the earliest papers, and she is referred to as Miss Smith in all the later ones. She became blind when she was fourteen and a half. She is in the hospital for a laundry list of conditions that are, according to her doctors, incurable.

She has been here since she was twelve.)

The rage finds a good home inside of her. It wraps around the grief and fear, and it is comforting in a new way. It lays roots to remake her into something else, something she might be, could be. Nothing better nor worse.

Just different.

—

It all goes wrong on a Wednesday. She knows it is a Wednesday because it is a treatment day. It is also bath day, and the day the priest comes round to pray at their doors, too cowardly to venture closer to the insane, the stricken as if they are contagious or tainted, somehow.

(There are few in the basement that are truly terrible. They struggle and fight because of their fear of the pain, of the suffering, not for any other reason. Most of the patients are soft and dull, drugged and crippled into quiet obedience. There is no reason to fear them, truly. They’re all half-dead, anyway.)

It’s also a dreadful day because her orderly is not here, and they’ve been forced to deal with her alone. Her head rings from the hits she took, her shoulder aching. Her throat is sore and her stomach is churning and she is sick of hearing how God will forgive her and welcome her into His house. She has done nothing that requires forgiveness, her orderly assured her of that.

(She cannot remember his name, no matter how many times he tells her. He tells her it is okay. She will remember one day.)

“Shut up!” she finally screams at the priest, who is hidden in the hallway with his Bible and his sermon. “There is no God!” She means to say ‘here’, in this place, where an orderly held her under the water of her bath this morning to punish her, as she thrashed and struggled. Her chest still aches and she wishes she had drowned. She screams it over and over again, hot tears on her cheeks as her brain and mouth stutter and struggle to get the words out as she means them.

“God is dead (here)!”

“G-God is dead!”

“God dead!”

She can’t get it right, can’t untangle her words and thoughts to make sense and the frustration and weakness makes her cry harder, makes the words harder.

It’s the wrong thing to say anyhow, because then another orderly comes, and the priest is yelling at her, condemning her and then there are two nurses and a doctor and she gets to go to her standing appointment early because she’s behaving so badly, her arms bent behind her so she has to hunch over. The priest makes the sign of the cross over her and she spits and screams when one of the nurses slaps her.

(God is dead and so is logic. She never understood why they bathed her before they shocked her; she almost always wets herself, bites through her lip, or gets a nose bleed. She is always a reeking mess afterwards, and they act like they haven’t set her up for failure.)

She’s hurled on the bed, and held down, and the doctor holds her jaw so tight she knows there will be finger prints on her cheeks.

“We may have to increase your treatments, Mary, if you do not remember your manners,” he says, a cool and arrogant voice washing over her - he is just a wobbly shadow in her corrupted gaze.

She manages to spit on him, sort of, and he slaps her too, and jams the rubber mouth guard into her mouth, holding it there and forcing her to choke. She writhes and kicks and no one has tied her down yet.

They manage to restrain her, and she can feel the doctor’s pleasure as he pulls the lever and the pain…

… it is a wild thing, roaring through her like a fire. It burns like a fire too, and sinks into her brain, her bones, her mind and soul. It cripples her and changes her. It rattles around in her and all she can think is that one day she will hurt this doctor, hurt these people just as bad. She will burn the doctor to blistered flesh, to ragged charcoal, to see how fair and fine such treatment is. She has survived so long with this experimental treatment, with having different voltages, different wires and placements and techniques, without any gratitude or assurance.

Just the never-ending rolling pain and fear.

(And she opens her arms and her heart to that anger, that righteous fury, the power, and the creeping fear. It nestles deep and close, finally and indelibly rewrites Mary-Alice and what she will become.)

—

Her speech is nearly gone after. She slurs and mumbles and doesn’t get up off of her cot. It’s over for her, the last flicker of herself realises. They move her around like a marionette; she is just a bunch of loose limbs and dead eyes. They stick her with needles and smile at her, satisfied that she’s finally broken and docile.

(One step closer to the boiler in the basement.)

They watch her body arch in pain at the shock of an ice bath, watch her twitch and shake with another seizure, ones that have made her their home over the last few years. But these are getting worse, and sometimes there are only minutes before the next one wracks through her.

(They hurt her, make her body ache worse and her mouth taste like blood.)

Her cold orderly has returned, and he is still kind. He keeps her clean and warm, patiently feeds her dainty bites of inedible food. He talks to her and comforts her. When he thinks she is asleep, he tells her how unforgivable the state in which she lives is; that this was cruel and pointless, and she deserves so much better, so much more. He tells her of gardens and oceans, castles and beaches. He brings a flower, a leaf, some slightly greasy sheep’s wool that he guides her hands over so that she can remember good things.

(She dreams of a boy offering her a flower; it’s white.)

It’s only after she dreams of the man with the red eyes that she tries to talk again. She sees the man with ruby eyes, his mouth smeared scarlet. She hears screaming, desperate screaming and babbling, and then nothing. She sees her own body, her throat torn to meat, laid out in the surgical room in front of frowning doctors. They mutter and murmur and try to translate the mess of her throat, her broken legs, her cracked and torn nails, the three broken vertebrae.

Her nudity upon her discovery.

(Of course, it’s easy to say that the girl was insane, escaping and discarding her clothing getting attacked by wild animals - perhaps she fell, broke her legs and her back and that’s when the animals arrived on the hunt. Anyhow, it truly doesn’t matter. The girl is really a woman, and has been a ward of the state so long that only the very oldest workers recall her full name. She is wrapped up and sent to the basement, nothing more than a footnote in the day’s happenings.)

She wakes up panicking, and the nurses do not like her noise, and so they have extra shots for her, a straitjacket and a stern lecture. She gasps and croaks and tries to explain.

The cold orderly is there, trying to protect her from the rough treatment but disguised as trying to wrangle her. She tries to tell him, tries to explain there’s a hunter in their midst, a hunter coming for her to start with and maybe others but her head and tongue are muddled, so it just comes out as croaks of, “Red man, red man, red man.”

The shots pierce her flesh and she wails like a child because she doesn’t want to die like that.

Doesn’t want to die.

(She just wants to live. Just once. Just for a little while.)

—

The orderly is no fool.

But neither is the hunter.

The future ripples and changes once more.

—

Down south, amongst the dust and blood of the Wars, a soldier goes rogue, a Major deserts, and the Lady of Monterrey rages.

Up north, a family packs their things, ready to move on. Again.

And in the mud and mire of Mississippi, the girl who was supposed to be Alice Cullen stares dead-eyed into the stars as the venom creeps through her, changing her fate once and forever.

#jaliceweek #alice cullen #jasper hale #jalice #twilight fic #twilight renaissance #alicexjasper #my fic: variable stars #romance #angst #drama #AU #Alice loses her visions #and gains something else...

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stellar-imagines · 5 years

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HEADCANONS REQUEST: ❝S/O who loves to wrestle.❞

[ Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia & Kimetsu no Yaiba ] [ Characters: Bakugou Katsuki, Shinsou Hitoshi, Togata Mirio, Hashibira Inosuke ]

「Headcanons of Bakugou, Shinsou, Mirio and Inosuke with their robust girlfriend who likes to wrestle them. It mostly starts out playfully but it devolves into NSFW territory.」

HASHIBIRA INOSUKE

♤ Please don't encourage the feral/boar lad too much. Because it boosts his ego. And Inosuke with his ego boosted is super cocky.

♤ Inosuke, raised by boars and away from normal humans. That means, he has never been in a relationship before nor did the thought of romance crossed his mind. His first relationship was with you and all he understood was that the fuzzy, fluffy feelings that you made him feel were dubbed as love. Thanks to Zenitsu and Tanjirou who knocked some sense into him and made him realize that he was just in love with you.

♤ He's a very competitive person and you can't deny that. As a boy, he has his own pride. You're strong, he admits that. But the one screaming "FIGHT ME" is him and not you. However, you never refuse whenever he picks a fight with you. Of course, they were harmless little fights that are most of the time playful. At least to you but Inosuke is usually serious. And he feels like you're making fun of him.

♤ This happens a lot between the two of you, at the most random time and the most random place. You'd be in the Butterfly Estate helping Aoi with her errands, and once you spot Inosuke you'd just tackle him, yell "Fight me!" and the wrestling will begin.

♤ Over time, he understands what this playful banter meant and goes along with it. He can't say that he hates this playful wrestling.

♤ Poor Inosuke has never touched, courted and make friends with a girl because he's raised as a wild boar. How sad and unfortunate, was what Zenitsu has said once. And it was so true. He has no idea what is considered romantic and what isn't. One day, he just mentioned how he likes the way you hold his hands, pat his head, give him kisses and whatnot. And all of a sudden, he adds wrestling to his list of being romantic.

♤ When it gets a bit out of hand―either you end up in a position where he was pinning you down or you straddling his waist. He's confused while you're embarrassed. Inosuke likes it. He feels like he has won something. Especially when it escalates to the point you two have sex. He's fairly new to the intimate side of a romantic relationship so you'd have to guide him a lot but he's a fast learner.

♤ Usually, he'd have you pinned down with his entire body pressing on your own. He doesn't understand but feeling your body pressed intimately against his turns him on. And seeing you underneath him roused his primal instincts to claim you.

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

☆ It's actually very beneficial. At least, that's what Bakugou thinks. You're a strong individual, blessed with a strong quirk. But he didn't fall in love because of that. You were beautiful, nice to look at, even on the inside. He likes being with you but is too prideful to ask you to hold hands, cuddle or whatever. Bakugou lets you do whatever you want. You'd initiate hand-holding, give him hugs when you think he needs them―he thinks your intuition is just too good.

☆ You were pretty sweet in everything you do. Always gentle, calm and patient. So he assumed that you'd be the type of girl to go on cute dates. Go to the movies, eat at a nice cafe, walk back as you enjoy the sunset but no. Instead. "Katsuki, let's go to the gym and fight." Cue Confused Bakugou.jpg. And you both really go and fight. It was nothing serious, more like a sparring session between the two of you.

☆ And it became a habit. The two of you could be relaxing in the common room together with your legs tangled up. It would always start with one of your legs placed on top of the other which was the start of a long rally, trying to be the one on the top. It gets to point where you're poking is his sides as he pulled at your cheeks.

☆ Honestly, everyone is just very confused because the two of you act like siblings fighting over who gets to play the new toy.

☆ Bakugou hates to lose. You know it, Class 1-A knows that, his mom knows that, heck, maybe the entire world knows. Even if it was playful, he wants to get the last laugh. He'd look at you with this smug look that can either tempt you to slap him or turn you on. Usually its the latter.

☆ He likes it but doesn't say it out loud. There were a few times that you'd manage to pin him down and come out victorious. He hated to admit that it was pretty hot when you straddle his waist, hair all messed up and out of breath.

☆ Bakugou is not the type to start the playful banter but he's willing to play along when you initiate it. Even if its a not so serious thing, he still can't help but want to win.

SHINSOU HITOSHI

♡ Shinsou's quite the playful type but you'd not know about this unless you're one of his closest friends. Before you guys even dated, you started out as good friends which meant you had plenty of encounters with the personality that he kept hidden. You learned that he liked cats, prefers indoor dates, and tons of stuff.

♡ He likes to tease you. When you're mad, he mimics or mocks you. But that could go in two ways, either you crack up and tell him to stop or you get even more pissed off. However, Shinsou knows his limits. He treats you like a child too which often results in you wrestling him and threatening him to take those words back.

♡ So, playful wrestling and all that, is pretty much common between the two of you. Shinsou loves it when you get on top of him, straddle his lap with your hands on his chest and that smile you wear when you emerge victorious, it's just so cute. And he pretty much doesn't mind when he loses.

♡ You love to pick fights with him, suddenly coming up and demanding that you want to fight him. The two of you took it as sparring at first and an opportunity to get stronger in hand to hand combat.

♡ Yes, it was super innocent and very admirable at first. You'd invite him to fight with you and the two of you would sit together afterward to talk about your mistakes and whatnot. Over time, it became something you do for fun.

♡ The first time it got a bit too out of hand, it was unintentional. He had won at that time, pinning your hands with one hand. You were squirming to break free which caused him to push your entire body down with his own. And with your butt hitting his crotch, how could he not get hard?

♡ He's usually the reason why it always ends up with you two having sex! You'd be on top of him, sitting on his stomach and he'd say, "Babe, you're looking pretty hot and sexy sitting on my lap like that." What annoys you even more is that he'd act smug about it which makes you flustered.

TOGATA MIRIO

♧ Mirio, your bundle of sunshine, is eager to do anything with you! He's almost like a dog. He's happy to see you, likes to hold your hand when you walk together and craves attention.

♧ As he was dubbed as a student who's basically good enough to be called a Pro Hero, you initiated fights with him. It was a great opportunity to learn from someone who can utilize their quirk so well! Mirio doesn't hesitate and immediately drags you to the nearest gym.

♧ He's usually not the type to tease but he makes jokes. He's not the type to act all high and mighty or smug so when it comes to your playful fights, he's all smiles and laughs. If he ended up losing, he'd just laugh it off saying that he lost. Sometimes he willingly loses to you just to see you happy. Of course, there are times you'd get upset from him doing so.

♧ But when actually teases you, he doesn't really mean it and it's mostly unintentional. To be honest, he's the type to say embarrassing stuff with a smile on his face. And afterwards, he'd get a bit flustered, laugh out loud and say it was a bit embarrassing.

♧ You were strong enough to stand your ground when you train with him so he didn't have to worry about holding back or going easy on you, that'd be an insult. Mirio is constantly looking for ways to improve his skills and tries to work toward his goals by accumulating different experiences to learn from them. And from that, you've improved a lot.

♧ The two of you weren't the type to argue over things and it's pretty rare of you to have arguments. Mirio was the type to talk things, he doesn't like the two of you to be at disagreement for a long time. Of course, this entire playful wrestling is not an actual fight so, nothing to worry about.

♧ When the fights devolve to the more intimate territory, its mostly unintentional. But once you both get into it, it's hard to stop. There are times where Mirio tries to act all smooth, making it look like an accident but he fails.

Total: 1607 words Published: 16.10.2019

We’re open for some limited edition prompts featuring Fall and Halloween! Read more here!

Thank you for requesting! *｡٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و*｡ First-ever request with a Kimetsu no Yaiba character! We’ve both seen a lot of blogs out there accepting requests for Kimetsu no Yaiba and we wanted to join in on the fun. It’s a very interesting anime with great animation! Hope you enjoyed it, anon! ― author Hibiki/Lou

Thank you for requesting! It’s totally fine to request characters from different fandoms. Inosuke is a very lively character and we had fun writing for him. Sorry to make you wait so long, anon. ― author Natsuki

Please do not mind the grammar mistakes and typos.

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namjuicyy · 4 years

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Sweet Night

.: Sweet Night :.

Taehyung x Gender Neutral!Reader

Your best friend is due to get married on Friday and you’re his best person. But what happens when the dynamic changes?

ficswithluv | masterlist | requests are open

Words: 4.3k

WARNINGS: mentions of depression; a disgusting amount of pining; reader and Tae being absolute idiots; implied smut (so Tae’s cheating);

S u n d a y

It was so cliche; being forced to share a bed in this tiny log cabin with your best friend. Seokjin just assumed that because you and Tae were so close you'd both be more than happy to share a double for the weekend. Hell, you'd done it ever since you were little and still sometimes to this day, so why would this weekend be any different? It shouldn't be. Yet there you lay in the darkness, wide awake and listening to Taehyung's breathing as he slept behind you, holding you close to his body as he had done every time you shared a bed since you were children. Arguably it's your fault he can't sleep without cuddling something - but you refuse to accept that accusation.

You weren't quite sure when things began to change for you; when you stopped seeing Taehyung as the greasy little boy with a boxy smile who used to terrorise the neighbour's cat under the guise of loving it and began seeing him as a beautiful young man, who wore that same smile whilst terrorising you. You didn't know when you started to fall helplessly and irrevocably in love with him. It just seemed that one morning you woke up and - poof! - feelings. What you didn't know was that there was a storm raging behind you inside the mind of the very man you had fallen for.

He was awake, eyes open in the darkness and staring at the back of your head as his mind screamed at him in the silence. Like you, he assumed his best friend was asleep and did his best not to disturb you with the never ending torture he was putting himself through. You'd gotten softer as you got older. There was more of you to grab, more of you to snuggle into. Your hair smelled like the cherry blossoms on Jeju Island and it took him back to the Spring you'd spent together on the island while the blossoms were in bloom. Pink petals fell on your hair as they blew off the trees. You turned to look at him and he could have sworn he was shot in the backside with one of Cupid's arrows. You were the most beautiful, most perfect creature he had ever laid his eyes on. He was able to pinpoint the exact moment he realised he was in love with you - it was then. When you were enthralled by the beauty of the nature surrounding you and paying no mind to him. When you were smiling brightly and taking photos with your own camera. He had to take a photo of you while you were so happy; so serene and peaceful.

You weren't allowed near his phone after that day, which was peculiar for the two of you as you'd both been so open with one another since the beginning. The reason for this was his home screen was that picture of you; his absolute favourite picture of you. You were so lost in the blossoms you hadn't noticed him taking your picture and though you were looking at his camera you weren't registering that it was in his hand. He caught your face lit up and partially hidden behind the raining petals while staring directly into his soul with adoration in his eyes. It was that picture he made sure to look at every time he did something on his phone. And it was that picture that remained in his data every single day for two years straight.

But God forbid he ever told you how he felt. Neither of you wanted to ruin this perfect relationship you had with each other and both of you assumed that confessing would do that. You both would rather each other in your lives as a friend than not at all. Which was, perhaps, an even worse thing to do as both of you were miserable and constantly pining after one another.

The members tried to get involved - tried to force you two to confess to each other on multiple occasions; and you almost did. However, the announcement of his most recent girlfriend stopped you and landed you in a month-long episode of depression. He was still with her - they were actually engaged, which was odd considering he was sharing a bed with you right now. Yet nothing would ever happen between you. In your eyes he was in love with her and in his eyes you didn't love him like he loved you.

You remember the day he told you the bad news.

"We're actually getting married." He announced over dinner when it was just the two of you.

You spat your drink out over him. "M-married? As in, in love forever, will one day have 2.5 kids in a three bedroom apartment crawling with dogs and dirty nappies married? Not married as in fake married to shut your parents up married?"

Tae laughed, his boxy smile making you melt. "As in through sickness and in health, richer for poorer until death do us part married, yes."

The richer for poorer line didn't sit well with you. "You asked her already?" He nodded in response. "And she said yes?"

"Don't act so surprised - I am quite the catch you know."

"What else is wrong with the girl besides the obvious?"

Tae groaned, "___."

"I'm sorry. Congratulations are in order, dude! I'm pleased for you." That was a blatant lie. He'd only been dating her for two years. He was only twenty-five... well, twenty-seven in Korean age which made more sense when you thought about it, but still.

"I actually wanted to ask you something."

"You want the funeral song played at the wedding? Sure thing."

"___!" Tae sighed but he was grinning a little at your joke. "We're going to be having a more Westernised wedding than traditional Korean. Obviously we will have the traditional Korean elements like the paebaek but we're going to be taking a more Western spin on it. So I was wondering if you would be my best man - or rather, best person."

You grit your teeth and swallowed the lump in your throat. Force a smile, force a smile! "Of course, Tae-Tae. I'd be honoured."

Cut to you crying on Yoongi's shoulder at 4am because you couldn't bear to go through with the role you had been given yet had no option but to go through with it. You couldn't breathe. You felt like you were trapped and the worst part about it all was that you made this prison yourself. The bars were made with all the words you never said with a lock made from the silence you hid behind. You could scream and scream and scream all you wanted but it was almost too late. You were too late.

This weekend getaway was a macabre farewell to Taehyung's "single" life given that the wedding was on Friday. Everything was all planned out and ready. Rehearsals had been completed. Outfits were chosen. He was really going through with this.

You turned in Taehyung's arms to look at his sleeping face only to be met with his eyes fully open and staring at you.

"I thought I could feel a creep watching me." You teased.

"Your snoring kept me awake. I was thinking of all the ways to kill you so I could get some peace and quiet."

"Oh wow, you can think? I wondered what that burning smell was."

"Hey! I'm smart, you know."

"Oh yeah? What's your IQ?"

"130."

"Alright fine."

"Not just a pretty face."

"I wouldn't even call you that."

"You're cruisin' for a bruisin', young lady."

"Ooh 'young lady'. Sorry, daddy. I'll try to behave."

The smile that was once on Taehyung's face slowly disappeared. He wasn't his usual bubbly self and he hadn't been for the last few weeks. Every time you asked him what was wrong, he automatically answered with "pre-wedding jitters. I'm fine." You knew Taehyung, though; and he wasn't fine. You've seen him when he's fine and he certainly isn't fine now. "Talk to me." You demanded gently. He hesitated. "You know I'm just going to keep asking until you tell me the truth."

"I don't know if I'm doing the right thing by marrying her."

"Are you in love with her?"

He was silent for a moment. "I do love her. I'm just not in love with her. That title belongs with someone else."

"So if you aren't in love with her - which you should be, by the way, if you're marrying her - then why would you marry her when you could be perfectly happy with someone else?"

"I don't want to hurt her - and I don't want to throw away my future and the possibility of being a dad one day for a chance with someone else when I'm fairly confident they don't love me back."

"Have they told you that they don't love you?"

"Well... no."

"Well then, there you go."

"They also haven't told me that they do love me like that, though."

"What do you want, Tae?"

"I want... happiness. I want to get married to someone I actually adore rather than someone I couldn't say no to."

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't tell you the whole truth. I didn't tell anyone. I didn't ask her to marry me. She asked me to marry her. I couldn't say no to her and risk losing the relationship I grew comfortable in."

"Why lie?"

"I didn't want to be judged. I know you wouldn't I just... I don't know. It felt like the right thing to do."

"Tae-"

"I know' I need to make a decision. I just don't want to. I'm comfortable here."

"Here?"

"In this room where no one can get me in a warm bed next to someone who means the world to me." You didn't know what to say so you decided to remain quiet. That sounded somewhat like a confession but you couldn't get your hopes up. What if it wasn't a confession? What if he was just being his usual, beautiful self? You still weren't confident enough to ask him or tell him your own fragile truth. He was so brave for laying himself bare like that. How could you ever compare? "Would it be alright if I pulled you closer?"

Actions spoke louder than words did, so instead of waiting for him to pull you towards him, you snuggled into his body allowing your head to bury itself in his neck. Even for you two this wasn't normal best friend behaviour.

Do it. Your brain egged you on. Tell him. Now! Yet you still couldn't do it. Even though you had the perfect opportunity to, you just couldn't confess everything to him. You couldn't be as brave as he was just now. What was wrong with you?

"It's your turn." He told you, as though he could read your thoughts. "What's going on in that head of yours?"

"It's empty up here, Tae. You know this."

"Hey." Tae pushed you away a little but gently so as not to offend or startle you. "I'm the only one who's allowed to pick on you.

You didn't know who leaned in first. It could very well have been you but time seemed to alter as your lips moved towards one another. They connected; it was gentle at first but things soon began to heat up. You allowed Taehyung to use his tongue as he kissed you, as your bodies pressed together ever tighter until there was no room left. You've read that kissing your best friend was supposed to feel like kissing a sibling - it was meant to feel disgusting and wrong - yet you both couldn't pull away from each other as though strong magnets had been placed in your lips and connected as you kissed. In fact, though you could feel your heart racing and his hands wandering your body, your brain cleared itself of everything. It didn't allow you to concentrate on the fact that you were kissing the man you've loved for a long time. Nor did it remind you that said man had a fiancée waiting for him at home; whom he didn't love and could never. It never occurred to you to tell him to stop even when he started to slot himself in between your legs, when you let him cum inside you and when you held each other to sleep that night finally holding one another as you'd wanted to for years.

You were disappointed on Monday morning when he wasn't beside you when you woke up. You were dejected to discover he wasn't even in the house and you were upset when you found out he returned home alone.

T u e s d a y

Taehyung hadn't spoken to you since Sunday night when you both gave yourselves to one another. To be completely honest, you hadn't tried to get in contact with him either. Sunday had felt so right that you had assumed, perhaps foolishly, that he would end things with his fiancée and would come crawling to you dismayed at hurting her but excited for your future together. You thought you'd see him Monday evening after spending time with her yet you were well into the late hours of Tuesday evening and you'd not heard a peep. Not a single word from him or about him from any of your mutual friends. You didn't know what was going on but you knew that things were awkward between the two of you - and that the wedding was still going ahead. You knew this because his fiancée had sent you a reminder three minutes ago via email that tomorrow was the final wedding rehearsal and that everyone had to be there.

T h u r s d a y

You didn't show up to the final rehearsal - how could you? You had slept with the bride's fiancée and that was the ultimate crime you could commit. How could you show your face to everyone after consenting to such an insensitive act? How could Taehyung more importantly. It was his fault just as much as it as yours and yet his conscience had allowed him to turn up unashamedly pretending to be the dutiful future husband while little did his precious bride-to-be he had been balls deep in someone else.

There was a knock at your door not three hours after the wedding rehearsal had ended and much to your surprise, Park Jimin stood there holding a bag of Tupperware boxes containing your share and the leftovers of the wedding feast. The moment he saw your puffy eyes and your distant smile he knew something big had happened. He had no idea how bad the damage was, but "Tae looks exactly like you do." He told you. "He wasn't himself at the wedding rehearsal but he wouldn't tell me why. Which isn't like him. What happened? Did you two have a falling out or something?"

"Not exactly."

It took Jimin all of three seconds to piece together what would have happened. If you hadn't had an argument, but you both aren't speaking and you didn't show up to the rehearsal today it could only mean one thing. "When did it happen?"

"Sunday night."

"Have you spoken since then?"

"No."

"Why?"

"He obviously doesn't want to, Jimin. If he did then I may have shown up today or at least I'd know where I stand with him. If he wanted me around he would have made an effort but he obviously doesn't. Anyway, it's probably for the best that the slut that fucked her best friend five days before his wedding doesn't show up. I couldn't face tomorrow before all of this happened, how am I supposed to now?"

"By talking to him? Calling him? Ask him to come over so you can talk face-to-face."

"I don't know if I can. It still wouldn't change anything, would it? He would still marry her tomorrow."

"You don't know that."

"I do. That's it now. He no longer wants me around."

Jimin, by the time he left your place that night was absolutely furious. He was angry at you for moping around and not contacting Tae. He was angry at Tae for even getting married to that woman in the first place when it was obvious he was in love with you; and he was livid at Taehyung for not contacting you after the both of you slept together to hash it out and see where your relationship was going to end up. So he contacted Tae himself and gave him an earful down the phone.

Taehyung had no intention of changing his plans.

F r i d a y

You were meant to be at the wedding today but of course you couldn't do it. Simply bringing yourself out of bed should have been enough today let alone watching the man you were desperately in love with marry someone else. Everything hurt; your head, your bones, your heart. How could something as simple as someone getting married take such a toll on your body?

Midday rolled around - the wedding should be starting now. You poured yourself another glass of wine and tried to bury yourself in a horror movie. Your usual self-care movie featured couples happily in love and you couldn't do that to yourself. So instead you opted for movies where couples were horrifically killed in multiple different ways. Yes, this will do just nicely.

Your phone had been ringing all day to the point where you put it on silent and turned it over so you couldn't see the display screen and see which member of the wedding party was trying to get in touch with you today. Going awol was the best thing you could do. Lying would have hurt you more, and turning up may have been deadly. Instead you kept your curtains closed and your phone as far away from you as possible.

That was when you heard it - rapid knocks at the door that forced you out of your blanket burrito on the couch and towards the front door. Had you known who it was you wouldn't have answered the door. Had you known more trouble would come by opening the door you wouldn't have left your spot on the sofa.

Her.

On your doorstep Tae's fiancée stood wearing her puffy, princess wedding dress and makeup running down her face. You know how much money was spent on the artists to put her face together and there it all went rolling down her cheeks.

"Where is he?" She sobbed at you.

"If he's not with you, love then I haven't got a clue."

"He's normally with you when he's hiding from me. He must be in here somewhere."

"Well," you stepped aside, "you're more than welcome to come in and look for him but all you'll find that's keeping me company is my own filth."

"So if he isn't here then where is he?"

"I haven't spoken to him since Sunday, honey. I've no idea. Now, please can you leave so I can wallow in self-pity and you can go ahead and get married?"

"Don't you get it, yet? The wedding's off! He left me at the altar. No one can get in touch with him. No one knows where he is."

This wasn't like Taehyung to just disappear without telling anyone where he was. You knew him better than anyone. At a time like this, if no one could find him it meant he needed to think. He always went to think sat in the grounds of Gyeongbokgung Palace in Seoul. Since moving to Seoul from Daegu, he had always enjoyed the traditional palaces because of how quiet they were, and how you couldn't hear or see the modern world. It was serene and peaceful and when he had taken the right precautions to cover his face he was unrecognisable and left alone. You had no doubt he'd be there.

"I know."

"Would you go to him?"

"No. I'll tell Jimin where he is and Jimin can go."

"___, please. You're the only one he listens to and talks to. Please."

You relented and did as she asked. Maybe if you could save their relationship the guilt would stop eating you alive. Though, of course, this wasn't guaranteed and there was an even higher chance that you'd end up hurting a lot more for this - and even lose Taehyung forever; but this seemed like the right thing to do. So you showered quickly, dressed and left the house with wet hair making your way to the palace.

You were entering the grounds taking in the smells of nature when you noticed the cherry blossoms. You hadn't realised they were in bloom yet. You were so preoccupied in your little problems you'd forgotten the seasons still changed around you. The palace was so much more beautiful now there was a dusting of pink sprinkled around the grounds. You could fully understand why Taehyung enjoyed coming to this place to think and relax.

You saw him sat there - to you he stuck out like a sore thumb but the tourists completely ignored his presence. Knowing he'd run if he saw you, you took the longer route to get to him, joining him on the bench without asking too afraid he'd get up and walk away before you had chance to say your peace.

"Shouldn't you be getting married now?" You asked him when you'd been sat beside him a little while.

"I wondered how long it would take for you to get summoned. Who was it? Jiminie? Namjoonie-hyung?"

"The woman you left at the altar."

"Ah."

"Though I have to say, I didn't think I'd see a woman in a wedding dress on my doorstep... ever. Thank you for that first."

"You're welcome - I know it's what you've always wanted."

"So why did you do it? Why aren't you getting married today?"

"I had too much to think about."

"Care to elaborate?"

"Taehyung," you said sternly, "don't you dare. You fucked me not even a week ago then shut me out of your life to the point where I thought you didn't want me in it anymore. You then proceed to shut everyone else out, leave your bride at the altar so she comes knocking on my door looking like an absolute mess and dragging me out of my blanket burrito to bring your moping ass back to her, and you aren't even offering me an explanation to tell me why all of this has happened. Neither of us are leaving until I get the answers I'm looking for, Tae. Even if it means we're sat here all night. You're opening up and that's final."

"I fucked up big time, didn't I?" He asked quietly. "You don't have to say it - I know. I've ruined everything because I was afraid. I was afraid to hurt her, afraid to hurt you. Eomma got so excited when I told her I was getting married and I've disappointed her."

"You definitely haven't disappointed your mum, Tae. Not by not getting married anyway. She knows you will one day - she just wants you to be happy and loved. That's all any of us want."

"I got scared." He told you. At this point tears were beginning to form in his eyes. He pitied himself and his decisions of course, but those tears weren't for him. The tears were for everyone he thought he'd disappointed but hurt in the process. "I had what I thought I wanted but when I had that I discovered it wasn't what I wanted at all. I thought I loved her - I thought I wanted to marry her and spend the rest of my life with her. It turns out, though, I wanted you instead... and then I had you - finally! Do you know how long I waited to have you? Everything became too real, though, and it freaked me out. It showed me that I wanted you... that my feelings for you hadn't gone and that I was about to make the biggest mistake of my life but I couldn't end it because I couldn't hurt her and I-" He took a deep breath but he began to sob. "I just wanted a forever, and now my forever's falling down and I can't stop it. I'm sorry, ___. I'm so, so sorry!"

His head fell on your shoulder as he wept harder, drawing more attention to him than perhaps he intended but still people didn't realise who he was. Or if they did they let him be which you were grateful for. There was a huge part of you that couldn't believe Tae had just confessed. After all these years of pining and wanting him finally he could be yours. All you had to do was tell him. "Tae, you have absolutely no idea just how much I adore you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you - maybe even marry you if things go well. I love you. I want you too. But you're still engaged."

Taehyung blinked. "I'm not. She doesn't know it yet but I'm ending things with her. You're right, it wasn't fair of me to do that to her. She deserves better than someone who only wants her because he's too afraid to be lonely."

"I'm proud of you, even if you are the world's biggest idiot sometimes."

"Would I - would I ever have a chance with you? You know, when I'm not officially engaged."

"Do you not want to spend some time being single first?"

"I was pretty much single with her. It feels like I'm about to hurt a friend - not a fiancée."

"Take me on a date first and we'll talk about it. And no, before you ask McDonald's does not count as a date."

"You're such a loser."

"Yeah but you love me."

"And you love me."

#ficswithluv #bulletproof bingo #fwlbingo #kim taehyung #kim taehyung x reader #taehyung x reader #bts au #kim taehyung fic #taehyung fluff #taehyung angst #taehyung smut

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brownskinsugarplum76 · 5 years

Text

Eye of the Storm, Ch 9

Got a little more NSFW, smutty hanky- panky for you. Maggie contemplates the life of a burgeoning rock star with a megastar boyfriend, and Robert gets vulnerable while in a vulnerable position. 😈 Thank you @firethatgrewsolow for the talk on the relationship angst.

Just want to reiterate that this story is AU--I make mention of Robert not being married. ❤️❤️❤️

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After some hushed pillow talk and more teasing and connecting of their bodies, Robert and Maggie drifted off to sleep.

Some time later, Maggie woke up, enveloped in Roberts arms, to moonlight flooding the room and the muted sound of the ocean. She smelled her perfume on him, mixed with his earthy, masculine scent. He was sleeping on his back and snoring softly. He’d piled his hair behind his head in hopes of cooling down after their lengthy tryst.

She nuzzled her cheek against his chest fuzz. It was one of her favorite places in the world to be, and it felt good to be back.

She had missed him, as she always did when tour dates or oceans separated them.

The lengthy gaps in their connections were the worst part of their unique relationship. Robert was always eager to wallow in the things that excited him about America while in the country, always eager to spend as much time with her as possible, but once his plane pointed toward England, things weren’t the same between them. He’d told her that he needed a few weeks alone to shake off his tour persona, but by then he was off to another pub or soccer pitch with his best mates, and English life with family and friends became far more seductive than she was.

Eventually he’d come around and they’d reconnect through letters and calls. She could feel his laughter during their phone conversations, and his sexy murmur still affected her from thousands of miles away when he unleashed it, but there was always a slight sense of distance. She knew that he didn’t have a wife and kids waiting for him, like Bonzo and Jonesy, and she knew that he cared for her, but he could not be moved from his wish for sanctuary and time for the rambunctious US fans and silver-tongued hangers-on to fade away.

It, by far, was the worst part of their arrangement, worse than knowing that Robert was galavanting with other women while on tour. There was no human competition; instead, there was a wall he’d built to guard his real life. She was glad to hear him admit earlier, at last, that the distance between them, this time apart in the same big state, hurt him as much as it hurt her.

It was satisfying to hear Robert speak from his heart, without hiding behind jokes or the sweet diversion of his seduction. She hoped this revelation, and the bond that would be formed with their extended time together, would lead to her first trip to his country sometime soon.

Maggie loved that Robert was so unflinchingly sure about his vision for their future, and she was beyond excited about it, but she wondered what would happen when they encountered people who didn’t care about any of that.

She had recently became more aware of the perks of being a front woman, and she could understand why being the lead singer was such a drug for Robert and others. The reaction from her regional touring was much more intense than when her band played the hyperlocal bar circuit in San Diego. It was new and exciting, she had to admit–having such a large number of eyes on her, knowing the crowd had felt and enjoyed the energy she gave to them, feeling the rush of their collective, appreciative energy washing powerfully over her, and gaining groupies of her own.

She knew her throng of admirers was nowhere near the harem that often waited for Robert backstage, a spectacle she had witnessed plenty of times, but there were men who showed up with flowers and flattering words for her, more than before. Their smiles were sometimes admiring, sometimes leering. Many of them made her skin crawl, or she sensed a creepy, possessive threat behind their flirtation. But some were men who sincerely enjoyed her music and wanted to spend a little more time with her. Some of that number were cute, too cute to resist. She had found herself in this same nighttime cuddling position with those men, but she could say it never felt as right as it did with Robert.

She sighed and stretched her legs. Robert stirred and held her tighter without waking up. The thoughts of future tour life persisted. She realized that it had been a few years since Robert last brought up the topic of her post-concert nights. Robert had told her many times that he couldn’t possibly demand exclusivity from her, knowing his reality, and now she wondered if his lack of curiosity was due to an easygoing spirit or a delicate heart. Only time would tell, under their new arrangement.

Knowing those concerns could wait, she turned her attention back to Robert. Even asleep, without his expressive face in motion and his arsenal of charming words, he was irresistible. His classical jawline was relaxed, with his mouth open slightly, but his eyelashes fanned over his skin, creating a shy, boyish expression. It made her wonder what the schoolboy version of Robert had looked like.

Fully awake now, she decided to rouse him for some company. She gingerly pulled back the covers. By the light of the moon she could see his chest gracefully rising and falling, the soft ripples of his abdomen, his dormant manhood, which still teased with possibility, and his sturdy thighs.

She wanted to trail her tongue and lips over every inch of his skin, but she knew that focusing on his sex would be the most efficient way to get his attention.

She wrested herself from his embrace as slowly as possible, and then she headed south. She trailed a finger down the length of his cock which, in its relaxed state, was still larger than what some of the groupies presented to her. She sighed and shuddered with delight as some of the best moments of the last few hours played themselves back in her mind and body.

She lifted and encircled her fingers around Robert’s manhood, licking him to life with straight and circular lashes, similar to the varied methods with which she polished off her ice cream cone during the day. Back at her car, Robert had given a blow-by-blow (as he insisted on calling it) commentary on her ice cream consumption and became engrossed in her work to the point that his cone started to melt and drip down his hand. The thought made her chuckle with pride while she continued her current labor of love.

“Mmmm… What’s so funny?” The vibrations of her laughter had done the trick. “He not getting there fast enough for you, lusty woman? Even he needs a rest from time to time.” Robert’s voice was more breathy and husky than usual upon waking up, and the sultry tone made a strong current of need surge inside of Maggie.

She paused and crawled up to kiss Robert insistently. “I was just thinking of how much you like this.”

“That I do, love…” Robert propped himself up with pillows while she headed back to his lap and continued. He smoothed her hair out of her face. She looked up at him briefly and her eyes did the smiling while her mouth was completely preoccupied with the full swell of Robert’s sex. And then, eyes closed, she continued.

“My favorite was that one time we flew from LA to Seattle. Remember? The turbulence? Ah, the sweet feel of your mouth, the tease of life and death in the balance with each unexpected dip of the plane… I tried to get you back in your seat, but you were committed… Fuck, ‘til the very end… Every last drop… Best flight since the first time we left the British Isles… We’ll have to see if our schedules align for the long flight to Texas next year, love… Mmm…”

Maggie opened her eyes briefly and saw Robert’s head slowly roll backward. His lips were slightly parted, and she could hear his hungry breathing.

"You always did spoil me, Mags. Mmmmm…" He inhaled sharply as she teased his sensitive underside.

"Now's my turn to spoil you… Breakfast in bed, coming up in a few hours. Full English. I love Betsy’s cooking dearly, but you Yanks just don't have that touch of English domestic magic. Had to get my mum to ship some packages of our bacon, even. You can only eat those American fried fat strips so many times you know?"

"Fuck, darlin'... Feels like you could be down there for the next couple of weeks, if I let you! Mmmmm…" He held her hair tighter with one hand, while the other migrated from a shoulder to one of her breasts. He put the pad of his thumb to work on her nipple, adding to the pleasure she was getting from his reactions.

He started to thrust lightly. “I know exactly which stores we should visit for your tour wardrobe. But why don’t you also pick out a few things of mine? I’d love to see someone wear that black bolero again… The one with the white trim that I was still wearing around the time we met? Won’t be fitting me anytime soon…”

Maggie moved one of her hands to cup Robert’s heavy-laden balls as she continued to bob her head and corkscrew her other hand on the expanse of his shaft.

Robert groaned and his body became restless with the slow build of pleasure. “I had a dream about you onstage… Couldn’t get your moves out of my mind, I suppose… Perfectly filled pair of hot pants and the tiniest T-shirt that put your tits in the spotlight… I was in the front row, and you kissed me. I fully enjoyed being on that side of the groupie exchange. Let’s just say I showed my appreciation of you in your limo... You almost screamed as loud as you did in the kitchen earlier!” His pride in his dream performance pulled the corners of his mouth into a Chesire cat grin.

“But you know, I must see your lovely ass in some leather pants. Maybe a leather halter, too? I saw a bit of Chaka Khan in concert, and she had on a sexy ensemble like that… Leather, feathers… It would look great on you, too.”

Robert moved his hands to Maggie’s shoulders and thrusted deeper.

“Fuck! Woman… Uh…”

Robert’s chatter dissolved into agonized moans for a time before he continued. “I’ll… I’ll need a private concert, of course… Uh… Yes, love… Right there… It’s high bloody time I cash in on the perks of rock royalty, you know? I can see it now, the band breaking into a saucy rhythm, and mi amor, all hips and waist movement and flying hair… And… And.. Ohhhhh… That voice…”

Robert closed his eyes and let his body take over. His hands flew to the sides of her head as he chased the climax on the horizon.

“I bought a bootleg of one of your concerts… Forgive me, love, but I know you have some of ours! Uh… Uh… Shit, I’m almost there!” he hissed. “I couldn’t stop listening to ‘Last Night.’ That’s my favorite, I think… Reminds me of us! ‘Last night, when we rocked and rolled, oh, you struck my soul, and you filled that hole in my heart.’” He gathered the last of his waning strength to belt out the song, the same as she had.

“You really lost yourself in the song… Your voice! So wild. Fuck! Baby… Yes, Maggie, yes, Maggie, yessssss… Uh… The first time I heard the boot… Hot as fuck… I couldn’t help myself, I… I… Uh… Ohhhhh, baby, yes… I thought of you on top of me, and I… Made me so fucking hard… My hands… Needed you… Had to make do… But not tonight, baby… Not tonight, not tomorrow… You’re here… In my life, in my house, my bed… Right where you should be… I’m so glad you… Ohhh…. Oh! Fuck! I…” Robert’s body stiffened suddenly and his seed coursed. His final moan rolled on for almost as long as his climactic note in Kashmir.

Maggie’s lips softened their grip as she withdrew his cock. She kissed the glistening head before retiring to Robert's outstretched arms.

“I’ve never been so happy to be up at 4 a.m.,” he said, glancing at the glow-in-the-dark clock. “Hell of a wake-up call, Magdalena dear…”

"Great conversation," she teased. “Can't wait for this breakfast you've promised."

"You'll have to wait a little for that meal, but I'm going to have a delightful feast now…" He guided Maggie to rest in his spot on the bed, and with the first stroke of his tongue in her sex, she knew breakfast could wait.

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The rest of my stories are here, or search for the hashtag #brownskinsugarplumlibrary

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patchworkideas · 5 years

Text

FiKi Week 2019: Day 4, Pet

Had been thinking about the Fair Folk and Elves some months ago and the idea ended up running away with my two favourite characters. I'm actually pretty proud of this one and after seeing the Prompt I couldn't resist posting this. Hope it's as enjoyable to read as it was to write.

Can also be found on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20002828

Elves can be tricky, with an otherworldly morality system that no one quite understands.

Kili finds that out the hard way.

He has been sitting on the edge of Mirkwood for a few days now and the thought of leaving had been impossible until a few moments ago.

All that he could think about was his star, his Tauriel. He hadn't even registered the words that echo so loudly through his mind now, as he's running away from a predator that thinks him an easy meal.

In this unknown body he probably is.

She bewitched him. Ever since she visited him in the dungeons everyday, he had been lost, unable to think of anything but her. Every time he saw her, just another opportunity for her to get her claws deeper into his mind.

In the end, he left Erebor. Left his family, everything he cared about, because his mistress asked and he couldn't resist the sirens call.

How long even did he stay in Mirkwood, a pet among the elves, unable to think for himself?

If those Rivendell Elves hadn't come, hadn't seen, hadn't demanded that he was set free, he would probably still be there.

If that thing hadn't tried to eat him, he probably would have waited there until she came to collect her pet back.

But he has his mind back, he's awake and clear in what feels like the first time in forever.

He runs, and he hides and he tries to hunt on four foreign paws, his fur dirty and his new senses almost overwhelming him.

He makes it to the Lonely Mountain.

He makes it unseen through the back ways, and runs like the devil through the places he can't hide in. Bides his time. He knows he's getting dangerously thin, that no dwarf will look at him and see something worth saving.

None but one.

And when the opportunity comes, he takes it. He evades Dwalins hands as he screams his brothers name, just the first syllable, his mouth grating and painful even around that. He evades everything grasping him while he weaves through his legs, hides behind him, calling, calling, calling, crying out through the pain and doing it again.

Only Fili may lift him.

May see his puppy eyes look that has never failed before.

And it doesn't.

Fili bathes him, brushes his fur, cuddles him close. He loves him, even if just as a pet. Kili returns the sentiment, even as his brother pours out his heart in front of him, crying in his empty room for the brother he thought lost.

He doesn’t understand his cats desperate tries of communication though. Scratched in runes are ignored, ink pots almost impossible to get his paws into before he is scolded and lifted away.

He watches as his brother starts letters he never finishes, never meant to send. Tells his faithful feline friend that Kili is happy were he is. That he's choosen who he wants to be with and it isn't with him.

Fili never stops mourning. Kili never stops comforting him, or trying to make him understand.

Kili makes his choice, somewhere between protecting him from the would be assassin whose eyes he scratches out and the gold digging dwarrowdams that Thorin thinks might cheer up his brother, unseeing that Fili agrees to being miserable for the sake of duty and nothing else.

He wants to give a tongue lashing to them all, to let it get this bad. It will have to wait, like so much.

Eventually, it's Ori that ends up seeing a pattern. Of a too smart cat that keeps desperately scratching in the same shapes whenever he can. His runes have become almost readable by then, from all the practice. Fili indulges the Scribe when he sets out a small bowl of ink and an empty piece of paper.

Kili takes his time, careful to make the runes as clear as possible. With paws a piece of paper is not a lot of room. "Get Gandalf." is what he has to settle with. There's not enough room for more. Not with his blasted paws unable to write smaller.

Ori brings out another paper, but speaks clear and slow, as if he hadn't proved his intelligence countless times by now, telling him to write the same message again.

He does.

He manages it smaller this time, adding a haphazard "HELP!" onto it. Partly to be contrary, and partly to get his desperation across.

He knows he can't tell them his name. Too much hurt comes with the mention, too much that could distract.

And if Gandalf can't help... Better not to give hope where there might be none. Kili doesn't know if his brother will survive losing him twice.

In the end, Fili swears Ori to secrecy and smuggles out a message requesting Gandalf's help.

King Thorin will be furious, and his cat is already fairly disliked for being impossible to part from him, the Crown Prince, as is. He knows his Uncle allows it because his pet has made him smile again.

Even though it insist on driving away any possible match.

Fili thinks about yesterday, how he stood up about not wanting to have children with someone who couldn't even handle a cat, and how cats only live about a decade anyway, would it truly be too much to ask to wait that long to look for a match?

His King might have been displeased, but it was the first thing his nephew had asked for himself ever since the battle, so his Uncle gave in.

He asks the raven to hurry, wrote Gandalf the same.

He doesn’t know how old his cat is, doesn't know how long he has, but after all it helped him with, all the comfort and quiet joy he had thought lost forever, well, they can call him insane and punish him all they want afterwards, he's not going to let his little friend down.

Gandalf does eventually come, though unfortunately Fili can't get him alone before the old wizard strides into the hall and asks what the emergency is.

Fili knows he can't bring this back into smaller circles, that, if he's wrong, he's going to show his insanity in front of the whole damn Court, but before he can truly worry his Cat jumps from his shoulder and runs away, towards the wizard.

He has moved after it before he realises it, snatching it up just before it reaches the tall figure. Every eye is on them, and Gandalf looks surprised for a second before a small smile breaks through.

"Well, that is an emergency, I suppose. You did good in calling me."

And he touches Fili's cat with his staff, the top of it just barely brushing it's head before a blinding light fills his eyes and the fur under his fingers changes and he becomes unable to hold him up anymore.

And it is a him that now rest in his arms. A shape that's burned into his memory with the force of a thousand dragons fire, never, ever forgotten. Fili whispers the name like a prayer into the hair of the dwarf before him, before finally opening his eyes upon hearing what his cat has been trying to tell him all this time.

"Hey, Fi. I'm home."

There are long discussions of course, after Fili used his coat to hide his naked brother from prying eyes before leading him to a smaller, more private chamber, with only their most trusted friends around.

Kili tells the story, how he was enchanted, trapped and how he broke free, finding his way back.

Gandalf looks caught between sad but resigned and angry and frustrated.

Apparently making someone love someone else is not considered a crime among the wood elves as long as the person in question doesn't ask for the spell to end. Which was obviously ridiculous, considering the fact that he hadn't even known he was under a spell until his near death broke him out of it. (And didn't that change her appearance in the battle, never leaving his side. She was right there to redo the spell whenever the battle woke him up.)

Kili knew there would be consequences for that disaster.

But he was currently more concerned with settling something else, something that had become clear during his time as a pet. His eyes caught Fili's and he sent a short apology to him before he explained in detail why he had intervened in Fili's matchmaking.

He made sure that both his uncle and his mother knew that Fili hadn't wanted any of it.

That Fili had never said no to them before, never hid from duty, so how "could they" ask him to marry and act like he actually had a choice in the matter. Why, they were all but selling him off to the highest bidder and Fili would have accepted a lifetime of misery for a short economic boon to the mountain.

Kili had a whole rant, all thought out, words sharpened over month and months and months of this nonsense, but he didn't need much of it before his family gave him what he wanted, without realising that that had been his goal all along.

Thorin and Dis insisted that their happiness was their highest goal and that they would not try to marry either of them off. Of course they could wait for their One, or not marry at all if that made them happier. The matchmaking had only been because they had hoped that Fili would feel better with a Companion.

In the end, it only took a few words in the right places, how Fili would do everything for that bloody mountain so how could they know he wouldn't pretend to be okay with it at a later time, and they had both Princes swear an oath that they would not marry for anything but the love of their One.

Kili's included a vow to keep him away from any elves in the future.

His brother was of course looking angrily at him the whole time. He was the only one who still saw through Kili like glass. Knew the Theatrics were deliberate. Knew he had made it sound as bad as possible and that nobody would believe Fili in this matter for quite some time.

They would fight about it, when all was said and done, and they were finally allowed back to their room, with no eyes to watch them.

Kili looked forward to it, to the rough and tumble, to the heated words pouring out of both of them, to feeling the weight of his brother in his arms and feel his strength when he reminded him that he saw and heard *everything*.

That they had promised to never hide from each other and Fili had broken that promise long before the journey.

Kili had made his choice while kneading his brothers skin with his paws, letting his rolling purr drown out the sobs and his rough tongue lap up the tears while his brother called out to the One he lost, Kili's name on his lips every night.

He would eventually do the same in his own body, swallowing Fili's cries along with everything else Fili had wanted to give and hadn't let himself, afraid of hurting his little brother.

But they were equals and Kili would make sure Fili finally understood that. He had their whole life for it now, with the oath to never love anyone but their One, anyone but each other, after all.

Kili couldn't wait, and behind Fili's anger, the confusion and the fear of losing him again, well, he knew his brother inside out, and he wouldn't have to wait long at all.

They were One, and nothing would come in between, never again.

#Elves as Fair Folk #So Blue/Orange Morality #And some unusual Magic #And just because Kili things he's being clever and subtle #Doesn't mean his Mother and Uncle aren't completely aware of what he's doing #And just decide to go with it because they want them to be happy #Aka Actually Supportive Family #Because I'm a sucker for that #FiKi #CatKili #FiKi Week 2019 #First time sharing a story #And first time writing a Tumblr Post #It ate my formatting #So I hope it comes out like it's supposed to now #my writing

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ethanswhxre · 5 years

Text

Perfect Mistake

A/n: I WROTE THIS WHEN I WAS 15 YEARS OLD AND NEVER PUT IT ANYWHERE so you all get this great gem. Pls do not judge too harshly. Also 1D is still together because I do not care enough to change the plot that much

Word Count: 3k (I have another 3k I can post if literally anybody wants it)

Summary (this is from 1dff days so its a whole bit w an excerpt and everything): “I just don't know what to do Harry."

"Well I know what I wanna do," he said, pressing against me.

"Harry, we're drunk. We're not thinking straight." My voice was shaky as I took a step a backwards, shivering when my back hit the wall.

"I can think just fine," he purred, leaning in. And then his lips were crashing against mine, hard and demanding. His hands landed on my hips, one running up the length of my body and tangling in my hair. His tongue ran along the seam of my lips and I gave him what he wanted. Because I wanted it too.

He pulled away and looked at me funny. "Marry me."

It wasn't even a question the way he said it. It was a demand.

And I didn't even think twice about it. "Okay."

Harry smiled and picked me up, my legs wrapping around his waist. "Alright then, let's go find a priest."

And I don't know if it was the alcohol or Harry, but Devon never even crossed my mind.

Chapter One

It was raining. Again. It had rained everyday for the past week and I was getting really tired of riding my bike around in it. Not to mention, I was supposed to meet Mac at La Val’s Pizza 5 minutes ago. She knew I was prone to lateness though, so she usually told me to be somewhere 15 minutes before she actually wanted me there. Which is why she was my best friend.

My bike screeched up to the front of La Val’s just as Mac rounded the corner.

“Hey Kitty Cat!” She said, sticking her tongue out as she came towards me. Her ratty blonde hair was up in a bun and her small frame was huddled under her bright yellow rain jacket. I had to look just as good in my old black leather jacket and sweatpants.

Mac walked to the door, holding it open for me as I locked up my bike. “Hurry up before I melt!”

“Oh yeah, I forgot that you’re a witch,” I said, snorting.

“No.” She elongated the “O”, rounding her lips exaggeratedly. “It’s because I’m made of sugar!” she said, shivering in her rain boots. “Now hurry!”

My bike lock clicked closed and I ran to the door and inside the warm dry restaurant, Mac following close behind.

I grabbed a table while she went up to order our usual: a large beef, onion, and green pepper pizza. Mac found me a couple of minutes later, Lori Jones in tow.

“Look who I found!” She sat down across from me, pulling Lori in next to her. Lori was a freshman who had a single dorm just down the hall from us. She was pretty enough, with her short brown hair and large green eyes, and nice enough definitely. The thing about Lori though, was that she was overly obsessive. I mean yeah, sure I have my leather jackets and Mac had Spongebob but Lori got obsessive about everything. For example, as soon as her butt hit the seat, she wouldn’t shut up about One Direction.

“They’re playing The Greek Theatre tonight y’know. That’s literally 5 minutes away from my dorm. Aren’t you excited? I’m soooo excited. I mean so what I’ve seen them live 7 times already. I could always go for an 8th! Or even a 9th! Or a billionth really. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of them. They’re debuting a song tonight y’know. My ovaries are going to explode, I’m sure of it!”

Mac put a hand over Lori’s, quieting her. “Yeah it sounds great and all but Cat and I aren’t even going tonight.”

“What! That’s crazy! Why not! I mean it’s a free One Direction concert! You guys are crazy!”

“Not crazy,” I put in. “Just not fans.”

“You guys don’t like their music!” She looked appalled and enraged at the same time. Like she couldn’t imagine a teenage girl who wasn’t a fan of boyband-pop.

“It’s not that we don’t like it,” Mac said, looking to me for help because she did, in fact, hate everything having to do with One Direction.

“It’s more that we just have a lot to do and aren’t big enough fans to go. I have all their stuff on my phone, I just don’t have a desire to hear it live.”

“Yeah. That’s exactly it,” Mac said, looking quite relieved.

Just then, the pizzas arrived. We were silent as we ate.

At 6, Lori practically ran out of the pizza shop so she’d have enough time to get ready.

Mac and I left a couple of minutes later, me on my bike and her on foot. I rode slowly, never getting more than a couple feet in front of her. It was only drizzling then, and we talked as we walked.

“Y’know,” she started. “I think I might have a crush on Lori. I mean, there’s the whole ‘I’m in love with One Direction, who are boys, therefore I’m straight’ thing, but that’s really just a small issue.” Mac was gay. Like, painfully so sometimes. We’d been friends since 8th grade and while she’d only come out of the closet after we graduated, I’d known since the beginning. People asked me if it was weird, sharing a dorm room with her, but she swore she hadn’t even entertained the possibility of us being together since 10th grade when she’d had a ‘Cat is my soulmate’ spell. I trusted her and she trusted me and she was my best friend whether she liked to have sexual relations with boys or not.

I laughed, “Yeah, that’s really a tiny problem, easy to work around.” She shoved me lightly, almost knocking me off my bike. “What was that for?!”

“You were patronizing me. You with your perfect boyfriend and great relationship. I can’t believe you and Devon have been together for almost 2 years.” She sighed, almost longingly.

“Yup, our anniversary is on Thursday.” I got smiley just thinking of Devon. He and his twin brother, and my longtime friend, Ryan, had spent the last week in L.A. because Ryan had a dancing gig there. Dev was supposed to be home tomorrow and I couldn’t wait to see him.

My train of thought was interrupted by Mac suddenly shouting.

“What the..? Mac are you alright?” She was looking down at her phone, her mouth wide open.

“Look at this picture Annie just sent me of Megan! Look at it!” She shoved her screen in my face. On it was a picture of Megan Fox in a bikini. Spongebob and Megan Fox were Mac’s 2 and only loves.

I just shook my head and pulled my bike up the steps to the front door of Stern Residential Hall. It was on the NE corner of Cal’s campus and only a couple minute walk to all of my classes. I adored it.

Mac caught up to me as I locked my bike up. Her phone was away now. “I’m so drained from work today but I have an essay due on Monday and I just want to watch Spongebob all day tomorrow.”

“Yeah I have loads of homework too,” I said, pulling the door open.

“Suprise!!”

“Ahhh!”

“Cat? What the? Ohhh. You idiot! You know she hates surprises!”

My eyes were squeezed shut and all I could hear was Mac’s loud yelling. Until: “Cat baby I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you or upset you. I just wanted to do something nice. I’m sorry baby. I’m sorry.” And lean arms wrapped themselves around my small frame and lifted me to my toes. My eyes fluttered open to see my boyfriend's extremely apologetic face.

“Devon! You weren't supposed to be home until tomorrow!” I cuddled my face into his chest, inhaling his scent of pine before looking up to take in the sight of him again. His brown hair laid flat on his head but his hazel eyes were alight. I sighed with happiness to just be near him again.

“You alright now?” He asked, putting me back down.

I nodded, snuggling into his side. He laughed and stepped away, making me look up at him. His usually confident air was suddenly shaky, like he was nervous. “Hey, babe?”

“Yeah?” I cocked my head to the side, waiting.

“I have something very important to ask you,” he said, before dropping down to one knee. I could feel my mouth drop open, dread running through my body.

He could not be doing this. Not now.

“Catherine Lauren Herrara, will you marry me?” His hopeful hazel eyes shown up at me as time slowed down. I couldn’t say yes. I wasn’t ready to get married. I mean, I loved Devon and I planned to marry him someday, just not any day soon. I loved my life the way it was. No, no he couldn’t do this to me. I didn’t want to hurt him by saying no, but I wasn’t ready to say yes. I could feel tears slipping from my eyes and my fight or flight reaction kicked in.

I fled.

Up 3 flights of stairs and down the hall to dorm number 308. I was shaking and couldn’t my key in the door. I could hear Devon, Ryan, and Mac running towards me, making me panicky. I finally got the key in, unlocked the door, and ran inside, slamming it closed behind me. I heard Mac sliding in her key, and I curled up into a ball on my bed, waiting for them to all come pouring in. But Mac shut the door before either of the twins could make it through.

“I love you, babe. No matter what. Please, talk to me,” Devon said from outside.

“Go away, Dev. Give her a bit. We’ll talk later okay?” Mac said back.

“Yeah, alright. Love you, Cat.”

Mac came and sat on the edge of my twin bed, stroking my hair. “What’s wrong babe? I thought you loved him?”

I sat up and sighed, wiping the tears from my face. “I do, Mac, I do. I really really do. I’m just not ready to marry him. I just… I like the way things are and I’m not ready for them to change.”

“Why couldn’t you just tell him that? He’d understand. Or at least try, for you. He loves you.”

“I know, it’s just that he looked so hopeful, I just couldn’t say no and crush him. I love him too much.” Mac nods, getting up. Well, how about we blast some music and get some schoolwork done? Nothing numbs your brain like good ol’ homework.”

After struggling through my schoolwork for a solid 4 hours, I was exhausted and my stomach was screaming for food. I was a person who had to eat at least 2 hours before I could fall asleep so I couldn't eat much. My stomach growled again and Mac, who'd gone to sleep hours ago, rolled over in her bed. I internally groaned, mind made up. I grabbed my computer and quietly snuck out of the room, tiptoed down the hall, and jumped in the elevator. When I made my way downstairs, I noticed a sleeping form on the couch in the lobby. Tiptoeing closer, I about gasped when I realized it was Devon. He slept here?! Did he think I'd eventually come down and talk to him? Was he planning on ambushing me when I came down in the morning?

I watched him sleep for a moment. He was agitated, tossing and turning. Without thinking I laid a hand on his shoulder. He calmed. I quickly pulled my hand back and walked to the door, looking over my shoulder as I pulled it open.

I left my bike locked up and quickly hopped down the stairs to the street. It was a 5-minute walk to my favorite coffee shop, Brewed Awakening, which was open till 2am. I walked along, lost in my thoughts.

I loved Devon, I did, but I couldn't get married, not with both my parents and my brother in the middle of a divorce. Devon knew my views on marriage. I had to be able to support myself before I got married. I needed a degree and a good job. I needed things to fall back on for when the inevitable happened.

I reached the coffee shop then and pulled the door open. Cathy was behind the counter. She was a senior majoring in news writing and I knew her from my creative writing class. She had talent. "Hey, Cat. Coming from the concert?" She must not have seen my laptop.

I chuckled a little. "Nah, not me," I said, holding my computer up. "Sucks you had to work tonight though if you wanted to go."

She shook her head. "No, I'm not a fan. Greg's paying me double for this shift actually because I'm the only one willing to work tonight."

"Ooh nice," I said, giving her a thumbs up. "Anyway, can I just get a hot chocolate please?"

"Of course!" I handed her a five dollar bill and she handed me the change back. "You alright hon?"

I shook my head. "It's nothing, I'm just arguing with Devon right now. He assured me he understood something and then turned around and proved he actually had no fucking clue." I shrugged, frowning.

Cathy nodded, humming in understanding before turning to make my chocolate milk. "I'm sure he'll come around. But honestly, as perfect for each other as you two are, I'm surprised you've lasted this long. You're both so young, barely 20. You don't know if there's anyone else, any other type of person you fit with. I've been with Tyler for three years but I had a whole year of crazy partying and one night stands. All the experimentation out of my system. Neither of you had that. And I guess some people don't need it and I don't want to say that your happiness isn't valid, it just surprises me."

She works as she talks, finishing just as she ends her last sentence. "Just think about it," she says, handing me the hot cup.

I nod, processing her words. She's right. I'd never been with anyone else. I hadn't had a serious boyfriend in high school and I'd been with Devon for both my years of college. I'd never gone out and danced with strangers or gotten blackout drunk and woken up in bed with someone whose name I didn't know. And these were experiences I wanted before I got married; before I even considered diving into that pool.

I sighed, sliding into a booth in the corner and opening my computer. My blog, Poetry Flowers, had hit 1 million visitors sometime that day and I decided a new poem and a thank you post was in order. All my attention went to that and I didn't notice when the doorbell dinged, or when the two other customers practically shrieked, and I certainly didn't notice when someone slid into the seat across from mine.

Which is why I jumped when he said hello.

My head shot up and I locked eyes with a pair of bright green irises. I raked my eyes up to his dark brown hair and then down to his thin lips. Harry Styles sat in front of me.

"Urm. Can I help you?" I asked, in slight shock.

"No." He slid his hands behind his head and leaned back, looking very at ease.

"Oh. So why are you sitting in my booth?"

"Is this your booth? I'm sorry. I didn't realize you owned it." He smirked.

"I don't own it, but I'm sitting here right now."

"On that side, yeah. So you can have that side, and I'll take this one."

I furrowed my eyebrows. “That’s really not how it works.”

He leaned in. “Look, this is the only place where no one can see me walking by. Please just let me sit here for a bit. I’m exhausted and I don’t think I can handle any more autographs.” His eyes are pleading, his face sad.

I leaned back in my seat, nodding my head a bit before going back to my blog. I’d written a poem already for the 1 million view occasion but I couldn’t bring myself to post it. I put up one I'd written during one of my homework breaks earlier, about Devon.

“So, um, what are you typing so intensely?” Harry asked.

“None of your business,” was my only reply. Suddenly, he shot up from his seat and slid in right next to me, his side pressing against mine.

“I was just 18 when we met

On the train to nowhere

But now we’re somewhere

I never meant to be

And I loved you for miles

Your smile was my heartbeat

And that was quite a feat

For someone without one

You know everything there is to know

But I don’t think you understand

I left my heart unmanned

And you tore it apart

Now I’m running in circles

Scared out of my mind

You say the stars aligned

For us that day

But I can’t bring myself to believe a single word you say”

“Wow. That’s pretty good. Did you write that?” He turns his face toward mine, leaving us just inches apart. My eyes fall to his lips, causing me to bite my own. I notice his eyes drop to where my teeth are dragging over my bottom lip. I want to lean in and kiss him, and I almost do when my head snaps back in place. What am I doing?! I have a boyfriend.

I swing my head around to face my laptop, breaking eye contact with Harry. I shake my head before answering. “Yeah, I wrote it. And you read it. Even though I really didn’t want you to.” I add a “Sorry it’s so sad but thank you guys so much for over a million visits!!” to the bottom and hit post, all while Harry is still breathing down my neck.

“So who’s it about?”

“No one.”

“It has to be about someone.”

“Well, it’s not.”

Suddenly, Cathy appears. “Here’s your coffee, Mr. Styles. I hope you like it. Hey, Cat.” She waves and walks away whistling, not realizing what she’s done.

“Cat, huh? Like a kitty cat? I like it. What’s it short for?” He takes a sip of his coffee. As if he needs more energy.

I don’t reply. “Okay fine. Whatever, Kitty Cat, don’t tell me.”

I close my eyes and take in a deep breath. Harry Styles is much more annoying than I thought he’d be.

“Well, I’m out now. Thank you for letting me sit in not-your-booth.” He shoots me a wink. “Hope I see you around.”

He gets up and walks out, looking back as he opens the door. I sigh deeply, letting my head drop to my keyboard.

I’m exhausted.

I drain the rest of my hot chocolate and shut down my computer before waving goodbye to Cathy and leaving the coffee shop. A pool of girls stands on the sidewalk, surrounding Harry. He fakes smiles and laughs and signs a dozen things and I watch him for a moment, amazed at how well he handles the attention. He looks up just as I think that I should look away. Our eyes meet. He smiles, a real one, before going back to his audience.

I walk back home and climb in bed, my mind louder than ever.

#Harry Styles #Harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #1d #1direction #fanfiction #also have a Luke version of this since I never posted it anywhere #its slightly different with most of the same plot if anybody wants that #this is me shouting into the void #goodnight

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theyrealllegends · 5 years

Text

Careful (Roger Taylor x Reader)

Chapter Summary: The day after the party the boys took you to is a day to take care of each other’s hangover and the day Roger dies his hair. You’re feeling a bit angsty about him being gone on tour soon but he finds his ways to distract you from that.

Author’s Note: This one feels super fluffy to me but I don’t even know if it really is. It ends quite smutty, I guess but you could skip that if you don’t like it. Also, I think the next chapter will be more interesting? Hope you still enjoy this one!

Words: ~4k

Warning: Everyone is hangover, drugs, mentions of sex, a handjob maybe - rated mature!

Chapter 8

Previous Parts

You woke up because someone stormed into your room.

“Tiffy, have you seen that blond th- Oh, there you are! You stupid fucker, waking up the whole neighbourhood and then slipping in our innocent girl’s bed!”, Freddie rambled while Roger was barely conscious.

“Shut the hell up”, he just whispered, pressing his free hand to his temple. “Just shut up and leave okay, you don’t want me to freak out right now.”

“Mary’s making pancakes if you want some”, Freddie told you as you turned around, moaning and pressing your face into Roger’s bare chest. He put his other hand on your back, streaking you softly.

“Shit, Rog, why’s everything spinning?”, you mumbled to him, making him snort.

“Babe, if only I knew.”

“You two are such bores! You didn’t drink half as much as I did and look at me! Blooming life!”

“Man, you’re still drunk that’s why!”, Roger moaned. “I’ll ask you again in a couple of hours.”

“I want teeeeea”, you told him as it was your dominating thought.

“And I want to have another scotch. Should we move?”

“Ugh”, you just let out, making him chuckle, before he softly removed his arm from under your head to sit up.

“Oh, sweet Jesus, Tiffany!”, Freddie almost screamed, making your ears hurt like crazy. “And you, don’t you ever yell at Mary and me again if all that makes you do is getting dirty with Tiff.”

“Man, can you -“

“Listen, Rog, I love you but I’ll kill you if you’re not fucking careful with her, you hear me.”

“Please, don’t dad me right now!”, Roger tried to interrupt him, moaning again as he tried to get up while he couldn’t see straight for the love of god.

“Tiffany is a treasure and you need to treat her like that”, Freddie told him seriously.

“And you think I don’t know that?”, Roger replied grumpy, patting past Freddie, almost running into your doorframe.

“You alright, love?”, Freddie asked you in a sweet voice.

“I feel sick and tired and hungry and tired.”

“That’s what happens if you’re fu-“

“Rog, come back and hit Freddie for me!” You heard something in the kitchen that sounded like dropped cutlery but there Roger was, ruffling his sweats up with one hand, his free hand balled into a fist.

“What’d he do, angel?”

“I just wanted to get that point across. Don’t ever talk to me like that again or it’ll be two against one”, you told Freddie, giving him a smirk.

“You clearly didn’t pay attention when my mother pulled out these horrible book. I was a boxer when I was younger and you two are pretty souls but no competition”, he let you know with a snort.

“I fell asleep in the middle of your sentence, that argument’s invalid”, you let him know, trying to hide that you actually were impressed. You moved to the open side of your bed and Roger offered you a hand to get you on your feet. “Thanks”, you whispered to him when you leant onto him to stabilise yourself. “God, I hate this.”

“Come and eat something, hm?”, Roger asked you softly, while he carefully ran his fingers over your hair. You moved to the kitchen slowly, sure you’d faint if you walked fast and you just dropped yourself on one of the chairs.

“You’re the devil don’t come close”, you told Freddie who just laughed. “I’m serious, you’re always making me drunk.”

“I’m good at that, though.”

“Yeah and I hate you”, you said, as Roger came into the kitchen, covering your shoulders - two thirds of your body actually - in a gigantic coat.

“Someone must’ve killed all my cats for that thing”, Freddie commented, making you listen up.

“YOUR cats?”

“Don’t worry, they’re perfectly fine I was jok-“

“No, I mean, you have CATS?”, you interrupted him, your voice reaching unexpected highs.

“Oh, man, she’s fair competition”, Freddie told Roger with a grin. “I think I have - Mary, love, how many cats do I have?”

“Oh there’s… Tom and Jerry, three, four… Four or five I’d guess”, Mary replied, finished the pancakes and putting them on a plate for the four of you.

“Freddie, are you gonna bring them here?”

“I was planning to when we were done with the flat but now everything’s so crazy. We were thinking to bring them before the tour so they could keep you company.”

“Fred, I’m fucking scared of cats, they’re - damn, they belong to you, I get it - they’re children of the devil, really.” Freddie laughed to a point were his eyes started tearing.

“God, you’re an angel, Tiffany, such a sweet angel! And Rog, why don’t you put on one of your outrageous jackets yourself, no-one wants to see the hickeys you’re so eager to show off there.” You blushed when you realised you must’ve caused them but Roger just shrugged it off.

“I’m too hot right now, man, I dunno why.” He sat down next to you to finally give Mary’s breakfast some attention. “Thank you, by the way”, he told her and she smiled.

***

After breakfast, you found yourself in the living room, watching TV with a still shirtless Roger who snaked his arm around you again, yawning.

“May I?”, he asked again, cuddling into you.

“The last time you asked that I didn’t regret letting you do what you wanted to”, you said, making him chuckle.

“I’m glad you liked it. Was scared I overstepped your boarder or something”, he mumbled into your skin.

“You did but in a good way.”

“We should do that more often, then”, he suggested with a grin.

“You wish”, you laughed, leaning in to peck his lips for half a second. “We’ll see, hm?”

“Whatever you want, love.”

“Rog”, Mary interrupted you softly, knocking on the doorframe as if to ask for permission to enter.

“Freddie wants you to come to his room, he says he’s too weak to walk.”

“He even kills the mood without being present”, Roger said, getting up moaning. You followed him, wrapping yourself tighter in his jacket. Freddie’s room was similarly as stuffed with clothes as Roger’s if not an even bigger mess and it was incredibly hot but Mary went to turn off the heater and let him some much needed fresh air. Freddie was smoking, looking pale.

“What is it, mate?”, Roger asked him, noticing, too.

“You were right”, Freddie admitted weakly.

“I love being right but I can’t follow you.”

“About my hangover. It kicked in and it’s a fucking bastard.” Roger snorted while you returned to the kitchen to get a bottle of water for Freddie.

“Do you happen to have pain killers, Tiff?”, Mary asked you, taking the water with a thankful smile. She got onto Freddie’s bed and helped him sit so he could drink.

“I think I do, hang on.”

“Don’t bother, love, I don’t want them anyway”, Freddie told you.

“But Fred, you -“, Mary wanted to argue.

“That’s why he asked for me”, it dawned on Roger. “I got you man, but you’re explaining that to the girls.” He left the room and you looked at Mary in confusion, unsure what to do and looking at the different fabrics Freddie had put up on his walls, noticing that he actually had squeezed a piano in his room, until Roger returned and got onto Freddie’s bed as well.

“He didn’t say anything, did he?”, he asked Mary who was eying the shoe-box he’d brought in suspicion.

“Nope, but I get it. I’m gonna check if you have the ingredients for scones.”

“I don’t think we do but pasta would do the job”, Freddie mumbled into her shoulder. “I fucking love you.”

“Love you, too”, she laughed it off, kissed him quickly before she got up and passed you with a soft smile. You finally realised Roger was grinding weed to put it on a paper and you rolled your eyes.

“What did I say about the cops?”, you demanded his attention, making him pull a face.

“I’m not doing this for myself right now!”

“Please you two, keep it quiet. Tiff, I’ll only ask you this one time, but please stop being a lawyer for the next thirty minutes, my head kills me.”

“You wanna come ‘ere?”, Roger asked you with a grin before he had to lick the paper, his eyes never leaving yours while the tip of his tongue curled out between his lips. It didn’t make you blush but you felt this tingling sensation in your thighs again that made you somewhat uncomfortable. You ended up on Freddie’s bed as well and cuddled into Roger after he’d given Freddie the weed.

“I didn’t mean to offend you earlier, darling”, Freddie actually explained himself as if he wanted to get better karma or whatever.

“I know, don’t worry, Fred”, you let him know while he took a deep drag and exhaled the slightly blue smoke.

“You wanna taste?”, he asked you and your blood went cold when you realised that he actually made you feel like it would be okay to do something that was lawfully wrong.

“I’m gonna pass”, you just told him and he nodded, fine with that. Roger moved behind you, leaning closer into your back while moving towards Freddie.

“Do you mind if I -?”

“God, Rog, no, I’m not your mother.” The boys chuckled and you could tell from the look in his eyes that he would’ve been happy to lean in and kiss you again already. Freddie was dying to ask what was going on between the two of you but he forced himself to stay quiet this one time since he didn’t want to pressure you.

“You two look good together”, was everything he commented to see your reaction and you just smiled while Roger took it with a nod.

*** “God, that smells awful”, you said and Freddie nodded, leaning into the wall behind him.

“If it does the job then I’m good”, Roger shrugged it off, checking again if he’d missed any spot of hair with the bleach. You grabbed the paintbrush from him to help out with some strands he couldn’t reach in the back of his head and neck but then he was good to go and while the die sunk into his hair you actually started to get excited for the result. His hair indeed was pretty light afterwards and you slapped half the tub of your hair mask on it so it could get it soft and not-frizzy again overnight but Roger was glad your eyes were still shining when you looked at him.

You prepared dinner for him and Freddy with Mary and the boys were singing Doing Alright, Keep Yourself Alive and lastly your secret favourite Seven Seas of Rhye to keep you entertained.

“When’s your tour starting again?”, Mary asked over her Pasta. The others had them with meatballs while you only went with tomato sauce.

“By this time in three weeks, we’ll have left”, Freddie told her, his hand moving to her leg for a moment.

“It’s UK only, this time but if it goes well they might send us to the US and Japan later that year”, Roger told you and you smiled because of his excitement.

“What about your studies, though?”, you had to ask.

“What about it, love? It doesn’t bloody matter!”, Freddie declared and Roger’s arm was around you when you raised an eyebrow.

“I’m gonna finish mine for sure, I just don’t know when at this point.”

“That’s something, though”, you said and Roger nodded thankfully.

Later that night, you could hear Freddie play the piano to Mary. You were in your room by yourself and your heart started aching when you heard it. He wasn’t only playing things you knew, but also trying some new tunes, you could tell. You could even hear him muffle some texts through the wall, imagining how it must be like for Mary to be with him those moments and it almost made you cry. You didn’t really know why, maybe you were emotional because you were going to get your period soon, but it eventually got the best of you and you ended up in front of Roger’s door, almost not daring to knock but to return to your room. You did it in the end, though and Roger smiled when he let you in.

“What is it, love?”

“I just - I don’t know, I think I felt a bit lonely”, you explained, tugging a strand of hair behind your ear nervously. Roger walked over to his bed, patting on the empty space next to him to make you join. “You were working, weren’t you?”, you said when you got under his covers as well.

“Nothing important”, he shrugged it off, lacing his fingers through yours. “Don’t want you to be lonely when we’re both at home.”

“You’re not gonna be home soon enough, anyway.”

“Tiff it’s only going to be one show in September, then I’ll be back with you until the real tour starts in October and I’ll be with you for Christmas, if you want me to. I promise, babe. It’s only three concerts outside of the UK and I’d take you to all of them if you wanted to.”

“I’ll be at the London ones for sure, I’ll have to see with the rest. My dad would kill me if he knew I was skipping class.”

“I can ask Miami to talk to him”, Roger suggested, his hand moving under your shirt slowly. You closed your eyes as you felt electric-like shocks wherever his skin touched yours. Heat started to erupt in your stomach, making your head spin a little and you almost didn’t answer.

“Please, don’t”, you just mumbled. “I want to keep working with him, not having to attend his funeral.” It made Roger chuckle, while he was studying your face. Your eyes were closed, your lashes resting on your cheekbones. Your skin was so light and clean and he knew how soft it was, it made him want to touch it; your lips were parted just a tiny bit and they looked perfect to him, to a point where he couldn’t resist but lean into you anymore.

“You will, Tiff and you will do great things”, he whispered, making you shutter. Your lips were so close to each other, when you opened your eyes you met Roger’s gaze and he fell, hard. Your eyes were endless to him to a point were he couldn’t look any longer, but had to close his eyes and seal your lips with his. You breathed him in, the smell of his body mixed with the faint hint of his cologne and cold smoke; you could smell the bleach and feel the mask in his hair but it didn’t matter when you buried your fingers in his locks. He pulled you onto himself and very carefully deepened the kiss, like he was asking you for permission before his tongue met yours. You rocketed your hips into his slowly, carefully, making Roger moan under your lips. His fingers started tingling from the sensation of your skin on his and he softly moved one hand from your hair to the hem of you shirt and onto your back. He caressed you softly, running the tips of his fingers up to your ribcage and then down over your bum, giving your back goosebumps. You leaned into his touch, moving your lips from his to his neck and his chest over his ribcage and down to his bellybutton. “Fuck, Tiff”, he mumbled, running a hand through his hair and gripping your shoulder with the other one. “You sure you wanna -?” His erected penis hit your boobs while he spoke, making him moan lightly and you blushed by the sudden lust you felt. Your mouth got watery at the thought and you were surprised because you didn’t really consider yourself the type of girl to give blowjobs.

“I can if you want me to”, you still told Roger who was barely able to hear you, his head was somewhere else since you were so close to his member and there wasn’t a steady bloodstream going to his brain anymore since that wasn’t where it was needed.

“Don’t wanna push you to do it, love”, he got out somehow and his eyes fell close after he looked at your for three seconds and saw how you were sitting up on him, your fingers softly tugging on the hem of his sweatpants. He gripped your hips when you moved too fast for his liking, biting his own lip which you really liked seeing.

“I tried it when I lost my virginity”, you told him, feeling safe while he didn’t look at you. “Only to find out later he spread that I - you know - suck at sucking it.”

“What a stupid bastard”, Roger said, sitting up so your lips could meet his. “How was it, though? If you wanna talk about it.”

“It’s really been overshadowed by the fact that he wasn’t as serious with me as he made me believe”, you tried to explain, Roger’s eyes full of understanding and his jaw clenched in anger when you told him: “He wasn’t my boyfriend but I didn’t think he was seeing other girls, too. But I talked to one of them later and she’d found out he was only dating young girls to make them willing to give him their virginity.”

“That’s gross”, he said and you nodded.

“I don’t know if it was good, I can’t really compare.”

“Bet it wasn’t. Did it - did it hurt?”

“Yeah, but he said that’s normal.”

“I mean, I guess it is, but he should’ve made sure you were comfortable and enjoying it”, Roger said, his fingers running through your hair.

“I can’t believe I’m telling you”, you admitted and he chuckled.

“I won’t tell anyone, love. And we can drop the subject if you want. Where were we?”, he teased you before he leant in again to kiss you softly. You smiled into him, as he wrapped you in his arms softly. Eventually, his lips started moving to your neck, your jawline and you earlobe again, making you hum into his hair. “If you want to, we can just repeat what we did last night and then see where this is going”, he suggested in a soft whisper.

“I - I would like to go first, if you let me.”

“You can always experiment with me, love”, he said, making you giggle. He rested his head on his pillows again, looking at you with a soft smile. You let your fingers run over his tummy again, moving down onto the fabric of his pants until you were touching him through the fabric of the sweats. Roger’s eyes fell shut and his lips parted just a little, making him look like a sleeping god. You softly pulled on his sweats and the briefs he wore under it and he moved beneath you so he could lift his hips and you could undress him. You looked at him for a second, in fear if you were honest before Roger softly touched himself. “You just do it like that and I’m perfectly fine.”

“I was just thinking that you’re at least two times bigger than this dumbass”, you told him, making him snort. Roger rested his head on his free arm, looking at you with a shit-eating grin.

“You wanna try me or not, babe?”, he teased you again, his eyes falling shut when you replaced his own hand with yours. His cock felt warm and veiny and you could see how much he liked it in his face. It was fun to look at him, really, explore his reactions when you went faster, gripped him tighter or brushed your thumb over his wet tip. He seemed to be the most sensitive there, his jaw clenching and his breath getting heavier. When you used your other hands to first cup his balls and then continue to palm him, he got the arm out under his head, gripping on one of his blankets until his knuckles turned white.

“You seem to like that”, you whispered to him and he laughed breathlessly.

“You’re a natural, Tiff”, he said, his fingers running over your knee softly. “And your hands are so soft, that’s driving me crazy.”

“You - you want to cum, Roger?” You gripped him tighter while you spoke and his whole body stiffened, pulling a moan from deep down his throat.

“That’s up to what you want, Babe.”

“I’m not sure if we should be having sex right now”, you whispered and he stroke your knee again, softly.

“Whatever makes you comfortable.” His breath was still heavy and he was sweating, but since you only lightly touched his tip, you thought he should be alright.

“I mean, after you yelled at Freddie and Mary, I’m sure he’d walk in on us on purpose.”

“I think he’d listen at least, I wouldn’t want that either, you’re right.”

“Do you think he’ll sleep over at her place at some point?”, you asked him with an innocent look, making Roger grin.

“I think she has this obnoxious roommate, I mean she’s her friend but she’s probably like me when it comes to her and Freddie banging, I guess. But I hope he’ll soon, I can ask him if you want me to.”

“You’re talking about that?” Roger actually blushed when you caught him but smiled when you did so to calm him down.

“I can keep this a secret if you want me to. But I think I’d talk to him about it at some point if you wouldn’t. He tells me stuff about Mary all the time. We’re trying to help each other out, I guess.”

“I like that you’re such good friends with him.”

“Me too, but can we stop talking about him while you have your hands on my dick?”

“What do you want me to say, talk dirty to you?”, you were the one teasing him with a smile, gripping his shaft harder, making Roger’s eyes roll back for a second. His hands gripped on your thighs tightly, his jaw was clenched.

“I’m not gonna last that much longer”, he told you in between heavy breaths.

“Is that alright for you like that?”

“Of course, babe.” You really had him turn into a sweating, moaning mess after he pressed the words out. The veins on his arms went visible as we gripped on his sheets again, trying to hold his curses to himself and his voice low at least. “Can you go - a little faster, please, Tiffany”, he pleaded making you grin. You liked that control you had over him, giving him what he wanted but you could still tell it wasn’t enough to finish him off, even though he really wanted to. “God, you make me feel so good”, he whispered, one hand is his hair. “Tiff”, he continued, his fingers starting to shake. “Fuck, I’m gonna - I’m gonna cum, love”, he moaned, biting on his fingers to keep quiet when his sentence made you fasten up your moves, now eager to let him come. He was moaning and repeating your name like it was a prayer and when he came, hot and thick cum covered your fingers and the downer part of his belly. “Shit, Tiff, you really know how to finish me off”, Roger told you with a weak smile, trying to catch his breath, before he slowly moved over to his nightstand, getting some Kleenex for the both of you. You cleaned your fingers until there was only a small white drop on your pinky and you licked it off before you really knew what you were doing. “How do I taste?”, Roger asked you, his husky voice low and dangerous.

“Good. How do I taste?”

“Hmm, not sure. I think I should try you again to spark my memory.”

Tags:

@discodeakyy @crazyweirdocalledfriday @blondecarfucker

#roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor x you #roger taylor fluff #roger taylor smut #roger taylor fanfic #ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy x you #ben hardy fluff #ben hardy smut #ben hardy fanfic #queen #queen fanfiction #bohemian rhapsody #borhap #borhap fanfic

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svt-writers-club · 5 years

Note

OTP QUESTION THINGY- 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5 for Verkwan, meanie and junhao :3

man, it’s been a while since i answered one of these!

VernKwan

1. Who’s big spoon/little spoon

Seungkwan is the big spoon and Hansol is the little spoon >:3 you can fight me on this headcanon, but you can’t pry away Hansol and Seungkwan sharing a bed after a long day, Hansol curling himself into a tiny ball so Seungkwan can cuddle him from behind. Hansol giggling as Seungkwan kisses the back of his neck and whispers a hoarse good morning against his ear. You can pry this away from my cold, dead hands, but Hansol is the biggest baby boy to exist.

2. Who’s a better cook

I do not trust Hansol in a kitchen alone and neither does Seungkwan. It’s not that Hansol is, on principle, a bad cook. It’s just that sometimes Hansol gets distracted and ends up leaving things in the pan/oven/microwave longer than they should be, which results in black, burnt bits in food. Suffice to say, Seungkwan is a lot more comfortable taking over the cooking, unless they both have the time to be in the kitchen so Hansol isn’t left unsupervised.

Not to mention Seungkwan is armed with the recipes of Mama Boo an her tutelage, so it’d be kinda a crime if Seungkwan isn’t the better cook.

3. Who’s cuddlier

:3 Seungkwan lives and breathes off physical affection. Heck, the only reason Hansol craves cuddling the way he does now is because of Seungkwan. If Seungkwan can’t get his daily cuddle with Hansol, he’ll be grumpy the whole day and no one wants to deal with a grumpy Seungkwan. Better to just let him have his re-energising cuddle with his boyfriend.

4. Who suggests watching a horror movie (to protect/get protected)

Hansol would definitely suggest watching a horror movie so he can protect Seungkwan from it. It’s usually when they’re having dorm movie nights and Hansol can be seen smiling into Seungkwan’s hair the whole time the vocalist’s face is buried in his chest, doing his best to distract him from the screams playing on the screen. Whoever said Hansol couldn’t be conniving and sly?

5. Who mentions babies first

Honestly, I can see Seungkwan mentioning babies first, because he’s a family man. He’s already figured Hansol was The One, so it was just a matter of planning out the rest of their lives together (and informing Hansol every step of the way, of course). He’s already figured that they’ll move into their own apartments, let themselves stabilise a little before he’ll even mention kids. Maybe when they’re, like, in their thirties.

Meanie

1. Who’s big spoon/little spoon

Mingyu is little spoon because he’s always wanted to be and Wonwoo’s pretty much the only person who could comfortably spoon him from behind. Mingyu also likes how protected he feels and how intimate it is. (He also likes how with a simple wiggle of his hips, they could go from sweet and innocent to hot and raunchy if he wants, but that’s for another time.)

2. Who’s a better cook

????? obviously Mingyu??????? Ming-chef out to save the world and feed his boyfriend, team members and anyone who likes food. Wonwoo could probably fend for himself in a pinch, but he’d always much rather have Mingyu’s kimchi fried rice over making his own.

(”What’s your secret?” Wonwoo asks, peering over Mingyu’s shoulder as the younger fries up some rice and vegetables in a wok, tossing the ingredients skilfully.

“Don’t you know?” MIngyu asks, taking the time to nuzzle Wonwoo. “It’s love.”

“I’m never asking you ever again,” Wonwoo mutters, glaring mulishly as a blush makes its way up his cheeks.)

3. Who’s cuddlier

:3 Wonwoo is a cat personified. You know what that means? That means that at any moment in time, Wonwoo will crawl into Mingyu’s lap and spend some time reading a book. Mingyu’s on the sofa? Make some room for Wonwoo because he’s coming in and he’s gonna demand cuddles. They’re in the bus heading out of Seoul for a show? The seat next to Mingyu is Taken because Wonwoo can’t sleep on the bus unless his face is smushed against Mingyu’s chest.

I’m not saying Wonwoo is touch-starved… or am I? ;)

4. Who suggests watching a horror movie (to protect/get protected)

Wonwoo loves horror movies, but Mingyu hates them with a fiery passion. There’s just something about ghosts and popping out of nowhere that Mingyu absolutely hates (Hansol does that a lot during practices and it’s constantly giving him a heart attack). However, watching horror movies means Mingyu will cower in fear and try to hide in Wonwoo’s hoodie (and failing miserably), so Wonwoo isn’t gonna complain when he gets twice the amount of cuddles during and after the movie (although he could do without Mingyu waking him up at 3am to follow him to the bathroom).

5. Who mentions babies first

Wonwoo does, because he’s older and big steps (like saying I love you and moving in together) are harder for him to take. That just means that when he does decide to take a big step, it’s a Big Thing. Mingyu knew, going into their relationship, that he’d have to move at Wonwoo’s pace as much as Wonwoo is trying to move at his pace as well. That’s why, when Wonwoo eventually brings up babies and maybe, possibly adopting one with Mingyu, Mingyu just smiles and says “Me too, hyung.”

(Mingyu has been thinking about having kids with Wonwoo for a year now, but all he can do is wait until the idea pops into Wonwoo’s head too.)

JunHao

1. Who’s big spoon/little spoon

Between the two of them, it’s a lot more… uh… combative. Cuddle sessions usually end up with a lot of arguing about who gets to be the little spoon. Sometimes it’s settled with a simple rock paper scissors, other times it’s a battle of who’s strongest (Minghao usually wins those, even if he’s the one who ends up being the big spoon despite wanting to be the little spoon, but he just wants to argue because, well, it’s Minghao).

2. Who’s a better cook

Honestly, I feel like they’re pretty equal in terms of cooking skill. Junhui’s no chef, but he can use a stove pretty handily. His yangzhou fried rice is nothing to sneeze at (or sneeze into – I’m looking at you, Kim Mingyu), but he can’t exactly pull of, like, chicken cordon bleu.

Minghao can cook. He can cook pretty okay. He’s still not allowed into the kitchen unsupervised after the Glitter Coffee Incident.

3. Who’s cuddlier

I think they just, kinda, attack each other with cuddles. Much like everything else about their lives, it’s kind of a game for them. Minghao is rather fond of jumping on Junhui’s back unsuspectingly, so he gets to spoon Junhui. Sometimes Junhui like’s to bundle himself into a blanket burrito when he’s having a sleep-in day. If Minghao ever decides to walk by the Jun-rrito, he’ll get snatched up and bundled in before he can let out a yell, much like one of those octupuses (octopi?) in the sea.

4. Who suggests watching a horror movie (to protect/get protected)

Minghao likes to protect Junhui from the scary monsters in horror movies. Gore does nothing to him, but it always scares the shit out of Junhui. However, if it’s a psychological thriller or, like, a Thai horror movie (if you don’t believe me when I say theu’re terrifying, I dare you to watch one. It’ll scare the pants off anybody), then Minghao’s going to spend most of the movie hiding in Junhui’s jacket. Much like a psychopath, Junhui really enjoys those kinds of horror. I???? guess????? they complement each other????????

5. Who mentions babies first

I feel like it’ll have to be Minghao, because Minghao is less likely to be willing to take the next step in stuff like this. It just means that Junhui needs to be more patient – and he has a lot of patience. He does, after all, have a kid brother.

That being said, Junhui’s ready to have babies (or adopt one, as is) with Minghao like a whole year before the thought even materialises in Minghao’s brain. It’s an agonising year for Junhui (because he doesn’t dare try and manipulate Minghao, which would make Minghao distrust him greatly), but it’s worth it when he sees the pensive look in Minghao’s eyes, before his lips purse and he hesitantly says, “Hyung… I was thinking. Maybe it’d be nice if we. You know. Adopted a kid together.”

Junhui nods and smiles into his mug of tea. It’s a good thing he’s ready with a list of orphanages they can go look at.

Feel free to ask me more of these ship asks here!

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128andfalling · 6 years

Text

Miraculous Spooktober Day 2: Monsters

Find it on Ao3!

Miraculous Spooktober Calendar @purrincess-chat

Tiki may not like it when Plagg called her sugarcube or his indifferent attitude towards everything, but she couldn’t deny she missed that stinky cat. There was something about being with someone who complimented her so well, even if he could be a little annoying. Since knowing the identity of each other’s holders, Tiki and Plagg were able to see each other more often. During study sessions or hang outs, Tiki would sneak into Adrien’s bag to spend time with Plagg.

On this particular occasion, the quad squad—Alya, Nino, Adrien, and Marinette—was watching a scary movie in the spirit of Halloween, providing enough background noise for Tiki and Plagg to quietly chat. The ominous music and random screams from the group made Tiki shiver.

“I don’t like scary movies,” Tiki said, inching closer to Plagg.

Plagg considered for a moment, but then a devious smirk slowly crept onto his face. “How about a story? I have one about cookies.”

At the mention of her favorite snack, Tiki’s antanta perked up. “Yes, please!”

“There was a kwami named Tiki, who lived in a bakery.”

“That’s me!” Tiki piped in.

“Yes. Now shh. Everyday Tiki had access to the best and freshest cookies Paris had to offer. After the bakery doors had closed, her sweet ladybug would place a plate of cookies out for her. This happened every night except for one night.”

The music from the movie slowed down and began to infuse the atmosphere with tension. Plagg lowered his voice as if he’s telling her a secret. “Tiki went to retrieve her cookies as usually. The plate was on the counter, but only crumbs remained. Confused, she went in search of her ladybug. Although the house seemed empty, she could hear creaks and low mumbles coming from upstairs. The little kwami phased through the door to investigate. ‘Cookie. Cookie,’ a low voice mumbled from the corner. Following the trail of crumbs, Tiki found a figure hunched over. But instead of blue pigtails, she found blue fur!” Tiki watched Plagg, eyes wide and holding her breath. The movie had grown quiet behind them as the stereotypical blonde girl went looking for the killer instead of running to the nearest exit.

Plagg continued, “The monster’s eyes were crazy, constantly moving, like it was seeing everything and nothing at the same time. Crumbs fell from its mouth as well as a red ribbon that was usually in Ladybug’s hair. ‘Where is Marinette?’ Tiki demanded, summoning as much courage as she could. The monster’s reply rumbled through the room. ‘Me. Want. Cookie. You sweet like cookie maker.’ Before Tiki could fly away, the cookie monster grabbed her and ate her!”

Despite herself, Tiki squeaked. The sudden noise caused Marinette and Nino to scream, which in turn made Alya and Adrien scream.

“What was that?!” Nino’s voice cracked as he clung to Alya’s arm.

“Probably just the fridge. It does that at the worst times,” Marinette answered breathily, knowing it was Tiki.

“Girl, I have never heard it make that noise,” Alya said glancing between the TV and the kitchen behind them.

“Sh. I think Brittany is about the find the killer,” Adrien whispered, drawing everyone’s attention back to the movie.

Inside Adrien’s bag, Tiki playfully punched Plagg’s arm. “You're bad at telling stories,” she deadpanned.

“But I got you.” Plagg smiled triumphantly.

The group screamed as the killer appeared on the screen. Her heart still beating fast, Tiki grabbed onto Plagg and cuddled against him.

“Meany,” she muttered under her breath.

Plagg hugged Tiki and a purr rumbled from his chest. Smiling to himself, he listened to the rest of the movie and the screams from the teenagers while holding his best friend.

#Spooktober #miraculous spooktober #miraculous ladybug #tiki #plagg #tiki and plagg #kwami interaction #scary story #quad squad #cookie monster #monster #that's the way the cookie crumbles #prompt list #day 2 #my writings #october #plagg likes scary movies: change my mind

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sour--strawberries · 6 years

Text

Meow Cafe, part 11

fandom: Stony (Steve x Tony)

universe: Figaro universe, cat cafe!au - Tony works as a barista in a cat cafe and Steve is totally smitten by him and Tony’s overly fluffy cat, Figaro

summary: The work on new Meow Cafe has started, and an unexpected reunion happens.

length: 6 395 words

warnings: this fic belongs to Figaro universe, not focused on tickling, but has some from time to time (none this time)

a/n: aaah, one more chapter to go! don’t worry, the last part is already done, it needs some polishing, so it will be up till end of this year! (it will be also the chapter where new cats will appear!). remember that reblogs, likes and feedback means love!

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Meow Cafe, part 11

(part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12)

The days were passing slowly, but were hectic in their own way. Pepper was finalizing the transaction and gathering supplies for the renovation of the new and better Meow Cafe. Natasha took Oliver to his new home and sent Tony and Steve daily updates on how the orange cat was settling in (very good, he still loved to sleep in every threshold possible and Steve couldn’t help but to smile wide each time he saw Natasha and noticed that her clothes were covered in orange fur).

Summer was ending and Steve had to sit down to work and plan a new school year for his students. Tony, on the other hand, became a little anxious, wishing Meow Cafe would open sooner as staying at home for so long was getting on his nerves.

Unfortunately, it started to show.

“I am asking for the last time. Who. Did. This?”

Steve tried to arrange all the materials for the syllabus on the coffee table, deciding in which order he should put them in. He didn’t like to repeat each year the same program, as art was all about creativity and different interpretations, but he will keep it organized, just to be safe from the school director. Mr Fury could be demanding and quite unpleasant when things didn’t go according to his wishes.

“You really think you will get an answer for this, babe?” Steve asked, not lifting eyes from the numerous pages spread in front of him. Maybe he should focus a bit more on sculptures this year, still having in mind the great architecture of Rome.

“One of them will crack sooner or later,” Tony replied, crossing arms over his chest. Figaro didn’t react to accusations and was spread leisurely on one of the cat shelves, his tail swooping gently and showing that he wished that his human would stop making a ruckus and not disrupt nap time. Gizmo was also on the cat shelf, clearly lurking and avoiding Tony’s gaze. Yet, neither of the cats admitted to digging in the big potted plant near the TV, throwing black soil out and into the wooden panels.

“Get down here and show me your paws!” Tony demanded, pointing his finger to the floor for emphasis. At the scream, Gizmo hid away, and Figaro’s tail swooped with more force. It was hard to say who did it, as both cats could be guilty, even if Gizmo acted more afraid. But that was just Gizmo, always easily scared and more delicate, while Figaro had high self-esteem and believed that whatever he was doing, he was doing good. It was humans who didn’t understand.

Steve tried to not smile too apparent, and God forbid, laugh, pointing his angry boyfriend’s attention to him. Maybe he could take Tony out for the weekend somewhere. Not far, just to change the environment. And without cats. That would be the hard part, talking Tony into leaving his babies, but Steve had a feeling all of them could benefit from this. And they had to use the last moments of Steve’s freedom before school starts all over again and he would go back to teaching. Just then, when Steve moved a photo of the Triton Fountain he took during his trip, something else caught his attention. Under it, there was a photo of a cat, one that resembled a whole lot Gizmo. He found the edge of the photo, and slowly pulled the whole thing to himself, holding the last issue of the newspaper he had bought this morning and didn’t look through yet. Tony always mocked him for buying newspaper, claiming that he could find everything on the Internet for free, but Steve liked the feeling of real paper under his fingertips. Not mentioning that torn out pages, scrunched up into paper balls were the cheapest and one of the most entertaining cat toys for Gizmo and Fig, and throwing them paper balls and watching the two cats chase them around, was always fun for all of them.

Smoothening out the newspaper, Steve noticed that he was looking at the lost and found a section of the newspaper. He quickly skimmed through the column, finding the photo again and reading the text below, his eyes widening with every word. He looked back at the cat shelves where Gizmo, unhelpfully, hid away to not be faced with Tony’s wrath, but he was becoming more and more sure of it. He knew that some cats looked alike, but there were too many similar points.

“What?” Tony asked, noticing his boyfriend’s twitchy movements. “Whaaat?!” he demanded again, when Steve shook his head and folded the newspaper, hiding it away.

“Nothing!” he squeaked out. He can’t let Tony see it. Not yet. Not until he would be one hundred percent sure.

Tony drew his eyebrows together in anger and left the relieved cats alone, stomping to his boyfriend instead. “Show me the newspaper,” he said, reaching his hand for the periodical. Whatever was there, he wanted to know.

“It is nothing—”

“Show me!”

“It really is nothing!”

“You promised to never lie to me again!”

Darn. Steve bit his bottom lip and looked away. He did. He should have known that the relief driven promise would come back and bite him in the butt. Feeling defeated, he reluctantly handed the newspaper.

Tony took it, anger changing into victory as he unfolded the paper and looked at the page Steve had been studying a minute ago. At first, he didn’t see anything interesting, but Steve saw the exact moment when he did. Tony’s whole body convulsed and he drew the paper closer to his eyes, not believing what he was seeing. He read the text and quickly did the math in his head, even counting on fingers for double check, a totally unnecessary move as Tony was good with mathematics. It all fitted. The date, the neighborhood, the cat in the picture.

“Gizmo!” Tony called, lowering the newspaper. “Gizmo!” he tried again and it was the desperation in his voice, that made the black and white cat peek out. Green yellow eyes. White whiskers. Black dots on the nose. “Takk?” he asked, waiting for a reaction, but Gizmo’s ears only twitched as if he heard something he didn’t in a really long time. His real name.

It all hit Tony at once and it made his head spin, not in a good way. “Ty stole him…” Tony whispered. According to the column, a cat like Gizmo disappeared from his backyard, the same day as Tiberius brought Gizmo into the Meow Cafe. All Ty had to do was to take his collar off and discard it somewhere. It was so easy and so cruel.

“He stole him!” Tony cried out, turning to Steve. “Why was I so stupid?!”

“Babe…” Steve said softly. He hated that Tony could so easily blame everything on himself. It wasn’t his fault or anyone at Meow Cafe. They all wanted to help the seemingly stray cat, even if the prime condition the cat arrived to them was suspicious, but they saw a man trying to do a good deed, and didn’t question it. They should have pushed him more, but none of them expected it to be a scam and a way to get close to Tony.

“I can’t believe I believed him, what is wrong with me?!” Tony was beating himself. How could he be so blind? Finding a stray cat. He should smell a scam. He should know better.

“Tony, you couldn’t have known—”

“You don’t get it!! I skipped two grades in elementary school, I should be smarter than this—”

Somehow, the comment made Steve laugh and as soon as he had an occasion, he grabbed Tony in his arms and wrestled down to the couch, kissing his dumb genius breathless.

***

“Takk!”

It was the first time, Tony and Steve saw Gizmo looking so happy. When a burly blond with musculature even greater than Steve’s stood in the door, the black and white cat took the shortest way down from the cat shelves and trotted to the man, his tail standing straight and eyes widen.

“Takk, you mighty beast!” the blond called, when Gizmo jumped on his chest and the guy cuddled the cat close. “What a joyous day for us to be reunited!”

Steve and Tony stared with varying degrees of shock, Steve’s dumbfounded face purely because of the way the stranger was talking, which he should already know as he was the one who called the guy, but he thought that maybe he was an actor and caught him in the middle of rehearsal. Tony’s was soon explained.

“Wow, he is hot,” Tony whispered, staring at the long-haired blond and his square jaw. Definitely his type. He felt Steve’s burning look on him. “Outside! It is hot outside! Would you like some water?!” he rambled out, his cheeks becoming pink and Steve narrowed eyes. Riiight. They were having a pretty hot end of summer, with a lot of rain and clouds.

“Thank you, but I ought to be on my way,” the guy smiled, and it was bright and sunny, and Tony felt a bit weak in the knees, unprepared for that. Steve harrumphed and elbowed him in the ribs, causing his boyfriend to squeak. “My brother is awaiting Takk’s return. He wasn’t himself without him.”

“Oh, right! Tony suddenly remembered. "Before you go, I need to see a proof that Gi— Takk is your cat,” he said. Maybe the warm reunion should be a sufficient sign enough, but Tony decided to be twice as careful from now on. The blond fished out his wallet and took out a photo, handing it to Tony. In the photo, was the blond guy, having his arm wrapped around a pale, black-haired man with a stoic expression, holding a cheerfully looking Gizmo. There was a second photo below that one, clearly taken from hiding as it was a little bit blurry, but it was safe to say that it was the dark-haired men, holding Gizmo in his arms and smiling gently at the cat. Tony could feel the bond between them just by looking at the photo. Steve also looked at the photos, just to be sure, but there was no doubt that Gizmo and the dark haired man had something special.

“Fine with me,” Tony said, handing the photos back, and quickly looking at Steve, who smiled and nodded his agreement.

“And as promised,” the guy hid the photos back and took out an envelope instead, “the reward for keeping Takk safe.”

Tony smiled gently, not imaging that he could ever accept money from a fellow cat lover. “You can keep the money. Or even better, you can donate it to a cat shelter.”

“That I shall,” the blond guy smiled back, impressed by such noble behavior. He kneeled down with Gizmo and put a brown collar with a gold oval medallion on the cat’s neck and attached a leash to it. “It’s time to return home, Takk. Say your farewell,” he told the cat, stroking his face. Gizmo turned back and looked at the people who took care of him in the last weeks. Maybe Tony was imagining things, but it looked like if Gizmo bowed his head to them, his human’s regal behavior rubbing off on him.

“Bye, Gizmo! Stay close to home,” Tony smiled and petted the cat’s head for the very last time. Steve did the same, hoping that nothing would again disrupt their peace.

“Takk, my friends!” the blond called for goodbye, laughing at the surprised expressions of the two men. “Takk means thank you in my language,” he explained and went out of the apartment, Gizmo trotting next to his longtime no seen friend, all excited to be on his way home.

“Huh,” Steve said, locking the door behind the guy. “So, he is Norwegian, but talks like Shakespeare,” he thought out loud, “do you remember his name?” Steve asked. It was in the column, but it slipped his mind.

Tony sat on the couch and pursed his lips as he was thinking. “William,” came out eventually.

“No, not William!” Steve laughed. Maybe Tony was great at math and science, but it seemed that he had real troubles with remembering people’s name. “I think it was something like… Thud?”

Steve didn’t have any more time to think about the name when he heard a quiet sniffling. He looked back at Tony and noticed that his boyfriend was swallowing tears and trying not to break.

“Aww…” Steve cooed and sat on the couch next to Tony, letting him cuddle into his side, and cry quietly. Gizmo was back home after nearly a two months of being absent. Tony couldn’t imagine the pain the dark haired man had to endure.

“Do you think he will be happy?” Tony asked, sniffling his words, meaning the cat.

“Of course,” Steve replied, rubbing his boyfriend’s arm soothingly. “He is going back home.”

“Happier than he would be with us?” Tony asked after a while.

Steve smiled while thinking about his answer. He couldn’t imagine any cat being unhappy with Tony. “He is going back to his family, Tony,” he replied in the end and kissed the top of his boyfriend’s head, hoping that it was enough of an answer. “Oh, hey, Fig!” Steve said, when Figaro, practically out of nowhere jumped on Tony’s lap, wondering what the commotion was about. He observed the whole situation out of his hiding spot, not understanding why all his cat friends were disappearing, but also feeling that they were not in danger. It was a weird feeling.

“And you are back to being an only child,” Steve smiled, scratching the fluffy cat under his chin, just where the white spot was.

Figaro purred as an answer, and curled into Tony’s stomach, taking advantage of the moment for a quick cuddle. He felt that his friend needed more company.

Tony sniffled, petting his cat, and being petted by Steve himself. The apartment looked empty again. But he had Steve and Fig and he wasn’t really alone. It was all good, and maybe one day, life would put another cat in his way, but for now, it was fine the way it was.

***

“We will end on this today. For the next class, read chapter five and think about the differences between Roman and Greek sculptures. Class dismissed!”

It wasn’t an everyday occurrence that Steve let his students free before the assigned hour, but the lecture was done, students behaved good and they all earned an earlier break. It definitely didn’t have to do anything with the fact that it was Steve’s last class and he wanted to get out as soon as possible.

“Remember that your first art project is due until end of this month! I won’t accept anything delayed! If you have any questions you can ask me now!” Steve called after the walking out group of chattering teens, hoping that none of them would turn around and ask him questions. He was just being nice, not counting that anyone would take on his offer. Luckily, no one did, and after the class emptied, Steve packed his things and walked out, already smiling at the perspective of the afternoon.

“Are you ready?” he was asked as soon as he stepped out of the room and almost jumped a foot up. “Woah, easy!” Natasha laughed, secretly enjoying sneaking up on her fellow teacher.

“Oh, did you end the class early today too?” Steve asked, walking down the corridor with Nat, trying to make their way out, before the halls would fill with screaming and running teens.

“Yhm. I think I would accompany you today. If you don’t mind that is,” she smiled, her eyes sparkling happily. It was no secret, that each day after Steve was done teaching, he rushed to the new Meow Cafe to help with setting up the place and meet his friends and boyfriend, where they stayed till late hours.

“I don’t,” Steve smiled back, noticing some orange fur intertwined into Natasha’s black sweater. “Aw, Oliver slept on it again?”

“Dammit,” Natasha frowned, looking down at herself and trying to pick the fur out, “I thought I cleaned it well.”

“You know how it is, when you have a cat, everything becomes a cat,” Steve laughed, not so much bothered by the black fur on his clothes anymore but finding it alarming when he woke up and had strands of long fur in his mouth. That should not happen. “How is Oliver doing?”

“Very good,” Natasha replied. They went outside and turned their faces to the sun, enjoying the crisp Autumn air around them. “He tripped Clint over last night. It was hilarious,” she said, giggling, and it was rare to see her giggle. Owning a cat was serving her well. “And how are the things between you and your barista?” Natasha asked, well aware of their eventful past.

“Very good,” Steve parroted, smiling broadly and meaning every word. Maybe it wasn’t the wild heat anymore, but he and Tony were going steady and Steve had a feeling that Tony was the one. Of course, he didn’t say anything yet, knowing that they both could rush into things, and there was no need for that. They loved each other and were not only boyfriends, but partners. It was something Steve never had before. “How are Clint and Bruce doing?” Steve asked, his voice gaining a teasing note. Natasha still didn’t admit to dating them both and living in a threesome, but Steve knew better.

Natasha looked away and bit her cheek, trying to hold a smile back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said in a neutral tone. Of course. Too bad that Bruce had two sphinxes, because additional fur on Natasha’s clothes would point against her.

“Yeah, you don’t,” Steve laughed, not bothered. If Natasha wanted to keep it as a secret and not say anything until they all were ready, he won’t force her. Didn’t mean he won’t tease her. “Oh, do you know if Bruce will be at the cafe today?”

“No, he has evening school today, maybe he will appear around 8 pm — sneaky!” Natasha gasped, shoving Steve in the arm and laughing together with him.

They took the subway and soon were in the neighborhood of the new Meow Cafe. It was just a few blocks away from the previous location, which still counted as a manageable walking distance from Tony’s apartment, which was good. It wasn’t as close to the main street as the previous location, and maybe it was better. It would for sure minimize people coming to get a coffee to go and point customers willing to stay and bond with the cats, without the unnecessary rush.

“We are here,” Steve stopped, letting Natasha take the sight in.

“Oh. It… looks nice,” she said wanting to be polite. It didn’t look nice at all. The building was clearly not used for a long time and the paint was falling off the walls, not mentioning the graffiti on one side. The windows were covered with black foil, including the big front window, so similar to the one that the previous cafe had, to hide everything from the people walking by. The place looked quite depressing in comparison to the shiny new buildings around it.

“They will fix the outside soon,” Steve explained, “I saw the projects and it will fit right in with the neighborhood.”

“The building looks big,” Natasha observed. Putting aside the poor look, the place had potential.

“Yeah, it is almost twice as big as the previous cafe. More room for cats!” Steve laughed and he knocked on the door, letting everyone know about his arrival before entering. “Hi! I brought a guest!”

“Hi! Come on in!” Pepper called, leaning out from her place on the spacious couch, sitting with Happy and Rhodey. The small group was in the already done part of the cafe, with walls painted in warm brown colors and latte stripes, and some furniture, stacked in a corner and still waiting to be placed. The only available furniture was the couch, covered in plastic wrap for safety until painting would be done, and small plastic tables in front with empty boxes of Chinese food. The place smelled of fresh paint and exotic spices, and it was a harsh combination, but Steve and Nat quickly got used to it.

“Long time no see!” Rhodey called to Nat when she and Steve approached and Pepper stood up to greet her properly, boys quickly following.

“It looks much nicer here,” Natasha smiled, loving how the paint made the whole place look cozy. She could imagine the whole cafe done in such colors and she already knew it was a good choice.

“How’s Oliver?” Pepper asked her friend, and everyone sat down, the girls talking about cats, while Steve asked Happy and Rhodey was there any more work left for him and how the progress was going.

“We finished installing the bar today,” Rhodey said, pointing to the bar area, “it is fully functional so we don’t need to drink instant coffee anymore!” he grinned, the next second standing up to properly greet their guests and serve them a cup. Steve watched a bit amazed, how efficient Rhodey was with the sparkling new and, in his eyes, highly advanced coffee maker. Maybe it was mandatory for all of Tony’s friends to pass a barista exam. Steve wouldn’t be surprised if that was the truth. Soon, he was presented with a cup of latte with sugar, while in front of Natasha was a double espresso, strong and black.

“The whole back office is done,” Happy summed up, listening all the renovations that already took place, while Rhodey had been preparing coffee. That included the office, cat room, kitchen and bathroom for workers. “Half of the cafe needs painting and changing of the panels, and then we have to do the bathroom for clients and the playground.”

“Playground?” Natasha asked, surprised by the words, taking a sip of her espresso.

“For the cats,” Pepper picked it up from there. “It will be an area specifically designed for cats, without access for the customers. Some pillows, toys, cat shelves, to rest and play, while customers could observe. We will put in there a lot of hiding spots in case one of the cats decides that they don’t want to be seen.”

“And then the outside. The signboard is in the making together with curtains and pillows for the furniture. We have painters scheduled. It should go smoothly now, it was a pain to fix the whole installation, it is an old building and we needed to take all precautions to not— you know,” Happy’s voice dropped. He didn’t need to say it. The fire. The official cause of the fire was faulty installation, but the opinions among the crew of Meow Cafe were divided. Very divided.

“Um, where is Tony?” Steve asked, trying to change the topic.

“He and Janet are in the kitchen. They are testing some recipe,” Pepper answered, “and I think they were saying something about trying out new uniforms?”

As on cue, there was a hearable swing of the door, and Janet’s head peaked out through the double door, the same model with an easy swing used in all restaurants. Some sweet, warm scent of spices made its way into the room and it showed how well ventilated the kitchen was.

“Good, you all are sitting!” Jan brightened, and before anyone could ask why exactly they should be sitting, Jan popped her head back into the kitchen, took a three-second break, and then leaped out again, opening the bar area and standing outside. “Ladies and gentlemen! May I have your attention, please!” she announced, putting both hands around her mouth. It wasn’t necessary, as everyone already turned to her, curious what was going on. “Straight from the runaway, I present to you, the new Meow Cafe uniforms!”

And…

Nothing. The group exchanged perplexed looks.

Janet huffed her cheeks out. She turned to the door leading to the kitchen, and stomped her foot impatiently, the rubber sole of her sneakers barely making any sound. “TONY!! Get your ass here, or I will drag it out!!”

The comment made everyone chuckle a little. That was Janet, going from super sweet to super angry in less than a second.

There was another three-second break, and Janet almost jumped back into the kitchen, when the door opened.

The usual Meow Cafe uniforms were quite simple. They were aprons, black, with embroidered logo on the chest, and a big pocket in the front. Standard off the shelve. When Tony walked out, everyone saw that the new uniforms were not so different. The apron didn’t change, it was still a classic cut, just instead of the pocket being in the center, there was a smaller on the side, near the hip, and there was a second one, the same size, on the opposite side, on the chest. It was knee length and had a dark grey stripe of material around the middle, for a better fit. The used material was in steel grey color, which was less formal than the classic black from before. What made it stand out, was the accessories.

Why Tony was reluctant to go out, became quickly explained. At the top of his head, was a headband with cat ears attached, black with brownish stripes, the color resembling Figaro’s fur. It was not the end. On Tony’s hands were big gloves, cut out to look like cat’s paws, with pink paw pads, and also the same color as the ears. The fingers were cut though, and Tony’s own fingers were visible. It made sense, seeing that workers had to somehow write orders and serve coffee. It was surprising that Janet didn’t draw any cat whiskers on Tony’s cheeks to complete the look, but maybe she dropped that idea because of the goatee on brunet’s face.

The reactions were divided, from Natasha’s staring in shock to Rhodey quietly laughing at his friend’s new cat look, but it was Steve who won everything, by chocking on his coffee and spraying it out of his mouth on everybody.

“Ew! Steve!” Natasha scolded, wiping her face off.

Tony’s mouth dropped as he just noticed his boyfriend and Natasha among the crew. Jan had to time it out like that on purpose. “You tricked me!!” he pointed a paw at his friend, finger pointing at the beaming girl.

“Doesn’t he look great?!” Jan buzzed, obviously proud.

“Um… Janet…” Pepper started insecurely, while the rest of the group was drying themselves off and grumbling, except Rhodey who was still chocking with laughter. And Steve, who was still staring at Tony. “It's… It’s nice,” she said clumsily, unsure how to end.

“I know! And the material is easy to wash too! No more coffee stains! And this!” Jan took Tony’s hand and showed the pink paw pads. “Can be used to wipe off the tables!”

“Shouldn’t agree to let her design the uniforms,” Happy leaned to his wife and whispered, and Pepper grunted, knocking the man away.

The group didn’t say anything. No one wanted to hurt Jan’s feelings. Maybe Natasha wouldn’t mind, always speaking what was on her mind, but it wasn’t her place.

“By the way, I was joking,” Jan ended the silence and pushed Tony closer to the group, making him stumble. “Only the apron is for the cafe, I made the rest to make Steve spit coffee out,” she smirked, pleased that her plan worked.

Everyone breathed out in relief, especially Pepper. She took the hem of the apron and rubbed the material between her fingers. “It is really great, Jan!” she started and everyone followed with praise.

Steve didn’t say anything and kept looking from his blushing boyfriend to Janet, finally stopping on the girl. “So, can Tony keep the ears?” he asked, and if Tony wasn’t blushing enough before, his face just exploded with red. Luckily, he had his paw gloves to hide into.

“Sure!” Jan smiled, stripping Tony off the uniform and passing it along the group to get all the feedback she could, before she would start sewing for everyone. She encouraged Tony with another push and practically made him stumble into Steve’s lap.

“Aw,” Steve cooed, holding his boyfriend, feeling enamored by the cute behavior. “Come here, my kitty,” he said and pulled Tony closer, kissing him once, not wanting to push it in front of the group. It seemed to work and after the last grumble, Tony sat next to Steve and pulled the gloves off, but left the headband in his hair. Just for fun.

“I am thinking of putting here a cat’s face,” Jan smiled, squeezed between Rhodey and Pepper, and drew a circle on the lower pocket with her finger, showing where the pattern should be. “Maybe in a white thread!”

“Hey, weren’t you baking something?” Happy asked, remembering why Tony and Janet went to the kitchen in the first place. Jan almost jumped out of her place, but Tony was faster and stood up first.

“It is fine, I will get it,” he said, motioning for the girl to sit down, “I got the mittens for it,” he took the previously discarded cat gloves and walked back into the kitchen. When he came back, he was holding a tray with giant cookies on them. “The oven turned itself just as we programmed it! Dig in!” he smiled, setting the tray down and taking two cookies with himself, for him and Steve.

Steve looked at the giant oatmeal cookie that was handed to him, seeing nuts and raisins in the dough. He took the first bite, and the taste and combination of spices definitely rang a bell in his head.

“Wow, those are really good!”

“Delicious!”

“Way better than the one we used to serve!”

“What recipe did you use?”

“Steve’s!” Tony announced happily, and all eyes turned to him and the blond, and it was Steve’s turn to blush, as he was not used to be the center of attention. “I hope you don’t mind,” Tony said, turning to his boyfriend. Of course, he first used the recipe and then thought about asking for permission.

Steve shook his head and nibbled on the cookie. He didn’t mind. “It is not really my recipe, it was my grandma’s,” he said and remembered the afternoon when as a little kid he was helping his granny measure out the ingredients and knead the sticky dough.

“To Steve’s grandma!” Rhodey called, raising his cookie and the rest followed, paying a tribute to the woman.

“Really, really good,” Natasha nodded, biting the cookie again, and she wasn’t big on sweets to start with.

“Umm…” Steve said, and all eyes turned to him again. “If you want, you can use this recipe in the cafe,” he offered. Maybe if his friends liked the cookies, the customers would too.

“Are you sure?” Pepper asked. It was a family recipe after all.

“Sure,” Steve smiled, again remembering his past, and this time memories of him and Bucky stuffing their faces with cookies in secret appeared in his mind. Those were good times. “I think my granny would like that.”

Pepper smiled and agreed. The new cafe was given a wonderful new start.

“New aprons and new cookie recipe! We are starting strong!” Janet cheered, and everyone nodded.

“Speaking of starting strong…” Pepper said and looked briefly at her husband, who smiled at her encouragingly. “I want to introduce another change,” she said, turning directly to Tony.

Oh uh. That was the moment. Everyone froze and Tony especially. Of course, Pepper always claimed that Tony would have a spot in the cafe, as long as he wants the job, and while he trusted Pepper, there was no solid guarantee she would hire him back.

“I thought for a long time about and I think it would be the best if…” Pepper made a pause and took a breath, “Tony would become a co-owner of the new Meow Cafe.”

“Me?!” Tony’s eyebrows raised up, and the surprise was lost in the general cheering of the group.

“That’s a great idea!”

“You deserve it, Tony!”

“Go, Tones!”

“What do you say, Tony?” Pepper asked with a smile. “I am promoting you from the head barista to a co-owner. Are you interested?”

“Peeeep…” Tony drawled, brushing both hands through his hair, unsure what to think yet. It was a huge honor, but also a huge responsibility. His fingers caught the headband with cat ears and he took it out of his hair and looked at it. If he became a co-owner, it would mean no more goofing around. No more being late. No more serving the customers, but planning and managing a group of people. And, if he was being honest with himself, he liked being a barista. He liked having direct contact with clients, and looking after the cats and job flirting with customers, granted he didn’t want to do that anymore seeing that he had Steve — his inner turmoil was interrupted when Steve put a hand on his knee and squeezed in a loving gesture. Tony’s breath hitched. If he would take the job, he would have a lot less time to spend with Steve. And…

“I really appreciate it,” Tony looked at his friend, and smiled, emotions clear in him, “but I will say no. Having my old job back is good enough for me.”

The group was disappointed and Steve smiled sadly, but understood, somehow expecting this.

“Are you sure? Maybe think about it a little more—”

“No,” Tony shook his head, interrupting Pepper, “I am sure. In fact, seeing that you want me back, I would like to become a half-time worker, instead of a full time.”

“What?! Why?!” it was Janet who cried the words out, and everyone gaped at Tony, Steve included.

“Guys, I can’t serve coffee and pet cats till rest of my life!” Tony laughed. He loved his job, but it was time to start new projects. During his free time, he got back into graphic designing and made a portfolio and had big plans. Time to focus on that, and treat Meow Cafe as a stepping stone and form of relaxation. “I am pushing thirty and—”

It was the worst timing for Steve to take a sip of his drink, as he started to choke on the liquid, quickly putting both hands to his mouth to avoid spitting on his friends again. Tony quickly patted blond’s back, helping him to calm down.

“You are thirty?!” he called out, unnecessarily loud after the coughing fit ended.

Tony narrowed eyes, sending the blond a calculating look. “In a few months, yeah, why?” he asked, and his tone told Steve to very carefully pick his words.

Steve felt a note of panic. He looked among the group and saw Rhodey and Pepper looking back at him, and he suddenly remembered that they were Tony’s peers, and very probably were the same age. Not that it mattered anyway, comparing to Steve’s twenty-eight years old, it was barely any age difference, but he always assumed that Tony was younger than him. Twenty-four, top twenty-five. He looked for help to Natasha, but the girl only kept smiling, eagerly waiting how he would get out of this one.

“Are you the same age as… everyone else?” Steve turned to Janet, and he could hear Tony roll his eyes. The brunet girl looked young, but so did Tony, and he couldn’t trust his eyes anymore.

“I am actually forty, but I keep up well,” Janet answered with a huge smile and giggled at Steve’s mortified look, as the blond totally bought it.

“Jan is a freshman in college,” Happy took pity on the baffled Steve, “and so is Bruce, if you want to know.”

Steve nodded, feeling that he made a fool out of himself. Slowly, he turned back to Tony to check if his boyfriend was still glaring at him. Unfortunately, he was. The group started talking again and Steve pulled Tony closer to himself.

“So, you were not joking when you told me that I can drink from white mugs when I get older?” he asked in a whisper, remembering the occurrence that took place in Tony’s kitchen during the movie marathon for their shared friends. That seemed to break the ice and Tony giggled in humor. He smooched his idiot boyfriend, and turned to join the conversation, that currently was on a topic about hiring a new person to fill in Tony’s absence.

“Don’t worry!” Tony called, ceasing the chatter. “I already have a replacement,” he smiled, calming everyone down. All eyes turned to him, waiting for the news. Tony just smiled mysteriously, enjoying the attention. He leaned to take Steve’s cup and took a sip of the nearly cold latte. “But it is not set in stone yet. You will find out soon. And can I get a proper coffee?! Do I have to do everything around here?!” he called dramatically and stood up to go to the coffee machine, Rhodey soon following and arguing that the coffee he had made was fine, and Tony was being a pain in the a–

Steve kept smiling, listening to the chatter around him and the sound of coffee beans being ground.

Big plans, big changes, but less and less time to adjust.

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#meow cafe #meow cafe fic #figaro #stony #tony stark #steve rogers #fanfic #fanfiction #pepper pots #happy hogan #james rhodes #janet van dyne

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