#plus there’s a difference between two friends being silly and strangers telling you you’re a stupid redneck hick :) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hansolmates · 4 years

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jjk; off-league

summary; you decide to do a little boudoir photoshoot for yourself—a little sexy lingerie, some bunny ears, maybe even a little nudity to make you feel more body positive about yourself. that little photoshoot doesn’t end up being for yourself anymore when you accidentally send those sexy pictures to your stupidly hot, stupidly talented childhood friend who you haven’t spoken to since middle school graduation. pairing; photographer!jk x fem!reader genre/warnings; childhood friends to lovers!au, flangst, mutual pining, feelings of insecurity and body image, suggestive language, nudity w.c; 6.2k a/n: i was feeling a lil meh about this fic after finishing it but a month later it finally makes its debut! for @btsghostiewritersnet BGW Bingo Bash! today’s trope is “childhood friends to lovers” which surprisingly isn’t a favorite of mine so it was definitely a challenge to write!

“C’mon, I need your opinion. Deadass. Don’t just say shit to make me feel better.”

“Gimmie those nudes, baby girl,” Johnny makes an impeccable fuckboy impersonation, making you feel a little squirmy to your stomach.

It’s an hour away from being the ass-crack’o-dawn and your impromptu pin-up photoshoot just needs the sexy-star-of-approval from your best friend. Johnny Suh is also up for reasons unmentioned, but you had a feeling his pretty boyfriend is fifty percent of the reason.

You look at yourself in the mirror, smoothing your frame against the black bodice of the sheer teddy. The only parts that are fully concealed are the parts that don’t matter. The sheer bodice reveals your pert nipples concealed by a thin black mesh, coupled with the deep V in the sweetheart neckline, accented by a little black bow in the dive of your highlighted cleavage. The silky a-line raceways to a set of black garters hugging your thighs, barely hanging onto a pair of lace thigh-highs.

It doesn’t leave you butt naked, but enough to make you feel confident about yourself. These pictures are for you, and Johnny. And Johnny’s boyfriend if he’s being nosy.

You tug off the silk bunny ears from your head, flinging it somewhere in your room. The wire started to dig in your brain, giving you a major headache.

“Sending them now,” you hang up and start compiling the pictures in a folder on Google Drive. Once that’s done you copy the shareable link, sending it to Johnny’s number. It happens all so fast, and you feel kind of giddy. As you were posing for the camera, taking your time to find all the right angles, you felt good, you felt sexy in your little get up. Channeling your inner Ariana Grande was one of your childhood dreams, your fifteen year old self would be proud.

Five minutes pass, fifteen, and by the twenty-five minute mark you’re pissed. What’s taking Johnny so long?

Makeup scrubbed clean and face bare, you shuffle in your duvet, far too tired to be waiting up this long. Punching in his number once more, you cry, “Hey! Why haven’t you looked at them yet?”

“What?” your friend’s voice sounds pebbly through the line. Was Johnny sleeping? “You never sent them!” he whines tiredly.

“No, I definitely sent them!” you pull the phone away and keep Johnny on call, ready to prove him wrong.

But to your surprise, the last message you sent to Johnny was this afternoon.

The most recent message is to a person named John Kook.

You scream.

Johnny screams back at you with an equal amount of force, “What the fuck? Did someone break in? Are you being mobbed? See, this is why I wanted to put the baby monitor in your room—”

“Worse!” you’re well prepared for any break in, but not for this. “I sent my pics to the wrong John!”

“Well… is he at least cute?”

“I mean, in the fourth grade he looked pretty cute with that front tooth missing,” you find your output of frustration, your bunny plush, pulling it by the ear and hitting it against the bed. “His name isn’t even John! It was just his English name for a silly project we did in middle school. This is so embarrassing, all I can picture is a twelve-year-old Jungkook mortified from sexual harassment. I basically sent him nudes!”

“Tasteful nudes.”

“I’m gonna die.”

“He’s gonna die, of happiness.”

Jeon Jungkook was a classmate from elementary through middle school. Time and time again was he the object of your affections, from the first grade at the roller rink to the speech he made at graduation. But really, who cares? You’re old and have a job, and it’s not like you’ve communicated with any of your former classmates.

Your horror amplifies when the Delivered receipt is changed to Read 3:41AM.

“Fuck! Fuck me with a fuckin’ fuck nugget he saw it!” you cry, “does he still have my number? What if he deleted my contact, would that be even weirder?”

“Girl, stop.” Johnny sighs, and you can already picture him running his thumb between his brows. “This doesn’t change anything, alright? You two don’t know each other anymore. Block his number and go to sleep.”

Johnny leaves you alone after that, and you’re left alone to mull over the implications of sending Jeon Jungkook your nude photoshoot.

You do block his number, knowing that waiting for a reply would drive you nuts. The one thing that you do which is possibly worse, is look him up on Instagram.

Of course, he’s stupid hot.

He doesn’t seem to like being on the receiving end of the camera however, in favor of his timeline being filled with romantic shots of the beach and city. In between the picturesque views and watercolor sunsets do you see glimpses of him and his current life. You can’t help but smile when you see him with his brother and parents during his college graduation, easily towering over all of them. He looks tall with fluffy cocoa hair, big pearly whites gleaming proudly at the camera. He grew up well.

To torture yourself even more, you even look through his story. Twelve hours ago, he was at the gym lifting weights. Normally, you’d be disgusted by people trying to show off their grunt faces drenched in sweat, but of course Jungkook has to have on a silly smile and pump his fist up after he deadlifts. The sweat clinging to his shirt is also a high plus. His gorgeous display of abs has your hands fluttering over your own belly. Maybe you need to exercise more.

Four hours ago, you see him and a pretty woman with their cheeks squished together, using the puppy filter. Of course he has a girlfriend.

Reluctant, you open up your Google Drive and scroll through your photoshoot. Deflated, you frown at the pictures that once made you beam with pride, picking at every little detail that bothered you. You really can’t believe you sent these to Jeon Jungkook, no longer a fourth grader with one front tooth, but a man way out of your league.

By the time you will yourself to sleep, the sun peeks from the horizon, telling you to move on.

“Hey Gyu,” you tiptoe over to the table much too small for Mingyu’s frame. The string bean is slumped over his iPad pro, drawing intently at some chibi OCs. “Got a plot for that one?” you ask, pointing at the little pink and blue creature decorating the screen.

Mingyu grunts in reply, obviously engrossed. It isn’t until you slide him a matcha frappe from Starbucks that he becomes intelligible, muttering a “thank you” as he blends with his pen.

Sensing that it’s going to be awhile before you get through to him, you take your usual rounds around the front desk and lobby of the cosy photo studio. There’s pretty pictures of Mingyu’s work, along with the other employees Minghao and Hoseok. Each section of the wall features a different taste of each person’s interest. Mingyu is a divine lover of soft bed sheets and hot tea, many of his photographs and paintings featuring cafes or perfectly messy beds you’ve seen on hotel advertisements. Minghao is a tasteful artisan, splotches of color retaliating against neutral backgrounds. Finally, Hoseok manages to find balance in the people, large cityscapes telling both large and small stories.

“Alright,” Mingyu’s deep voice forces you to curl your head, where he’s sipping at his drink with haste. “What’cha here for?”

You frown, “Don’t you remember? I told you last week I’d be stopping by to get my photos developed,” you gesture to the Pentax in your hands, an heirloom from your great-aunt. While you did take digital photos for sending them to Johnny, the ones you wanted developed were taken side-by-side with the film camera. You figured that film would give a little more authenticity to your photoshoot.

“Shit, that’s today?” the camera falls like deadweight, slapping against your sweater as you watch Mingyu frantically look through his digital calendar. He looks at you, dejected. “How many prints?”

“I don’t know, maybe like six. Or eight?”

“That’s gonna take too long, I’m heading down to Hidden Grounds for a vision meeting at two.”

“Alright, I’m free all day. What about after?”

“Nah, you came all this way. I can just let the new guy help you.” and Mingyu makes a show of cupping his hands in the direction of the open hallway, “Yah, Jeon Jungkook! Get your cute ass out here!”

The Pentax around your neck suddenly feels like weight akin to a two-ton boulder, and you surge forward, not caring that the corner of the table is digging into your belly. “Mingyu,” you garble, and Mingyu is shell-shocked by the desperation in your eyes. “Isn’t Minghao around or something? Or I can come back another time? These photos are really personal and I don’t feel comfortable having a stranger see them.”

“What? We’re professionals, don’t belittle us.”

“No, seriously,” you whine, you tug at the collar of his denim jacket, noses practically touching. “These pictures are different. My tits are out and my legs are spread—”

“—interrupting something?”

You hear some shuffling, and you turn around to see Jeon Jungkook’s back, comically turned to face the entrance.

And damn, he did have a cute ass. Nothing is going to hide the glory in those jeans, absolutely nothing.

“Hilarious,” Mingyu drawls, and you push him away. “Forget it, Kook. She doesn’t feel comfortable letting a stranger develop her photos.”

Sensing that it’s safe to turn around, you watch as his black bangs flutter as he faces you. You hope your body language doesn’t betray how you’re really feeling, because you are a mere mortal and you’re weak in the presence of god-like figures.

“Oh, what a relief then,” he smiles at you, and his voice sounds like honey. If there was malice or surprise in his tone, his good-natured expression betrays it. “Because I’ve known this friend since elementary school. We go way back.”

You ignore the burn in the back of your head, as you are positive Mingyu knows you’re hiding something.

“Really, what a coincidence.” Mingyu replies carefully, and you feel utterly stuck between these men and their banter, locked up like cream in an Oreo cookie.

Nothing argues against Jungkook as he easily weaves through the thick wave of awkwardness, hands reaching out to touch your camera. “Wow,” he marvels, holding the object in his hands, “my dad has one of these.”

“A-ha,” you take a step back, only to bump into the corner of the table, again. Ouch. “It’s okay, Jungkook. I’m actually busy today so I can come when Mingyu’s free–”

“Oh, I thought you were free all day,” Mingyu drawls, looking up through his lashes as he sips languidly at his drink.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jungkook says good-naturedly, as if Mingyu just didn’t out you. “We got a lot of catching up to do anyway, c’mon.”

Jungkook moves to place a hand in the small of your back and that’s enough to get you to rev up. Refusing to let any contact get between the two of you, you zip ahead down the familiar hallway, turning your head to catch Mingyu grinning with all canines, shooing you with his fingers like a puppy.

You send Mingyu a stream of “fuck yous” into his inbox for later, unwilling to settle with this curse. Busying yourself with your phone, you avoid eye contact with Jungkook until you reach the dark room. The red light turned off at the top of the doorhenge signals that the room is not in use. Jungkook makes a move to open the door and that’s when you pounce, blocking the doorway with your small body. It’s comical, really.

Jungkook raises a brow at you, but says nothing.

“I really can wait, Jungkook,” you steel yourself, forcing a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure your girlfriend wouldn’t like you developing my pictures—”

It’s then that his pretty cupid’s bow unfurls into a full-fledged grin. “Girlfriend... you’ve been keeping tabs on me?”

“Fuck, well I had to!” your face is as red as the dark room’s alert light, now on because Jungkook flicked the switch and he’s between your arm to unlock the door. Your hand brushes his as you both reach the knob. “I’m really really sorry I sent those pictures. They were for Johnny—you remember Johnny Suh from English class? And I saved you in my contacts as “John Kook” so it was an honest mess up.”

Jungkook hums, so light that the breathiness in his chords flutters your grip on the knob. He forces the door ajar, and you’re left to follow him in the dark room, cluttered with solutions and fancy equipment.

“Thought so,” Jungkook shrugged, giving a one-over at the materials in the room, mulling over his next steps in developing your film.

You’re still petrified at the doorway, holding your Pentax between both hands like a lifeline. Jungkook’s head lols to you, and you get a pretty view of the way his bangs brush over his forehead, Adam’s Apple bobbing. His expression is a little tired, but overall unreadable. He sighs your name, lethargic.

“We’re already here, so might as well get this done,” he gestures to the camera in your vice grip. “Do you wanna pick the shots or do you want me to?”

He’s already seen the digitals, what’s so different about getting a couple prints? With a slight pout you drag your feet over to him, relinquishing your camera. “I’m thinking you have a better eye for this than I do.”

“You think right.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Cocky, but what you’ve seen on Instagram definitely justifies his sentiment. Jungkook pays no mind to you, busying his hands with the various containers in front of him, measuring the solutions for the developer, stopper, and fixer. You were always entranced by the process of developing film, especially in highschool where their photography club holed themselves in the darkroom like a secret lair.

“Alright,” he pops open the canister, carefully laying out sections of the film in groups of four. “Want me to pick a random one for a tester?”

You frown, “At least put some thought into it.”

“Always,” it looks like he already decided way before he popped the question, immediately taking a negative and placing it in the carrier.

His fingers are nimble as he takes the time to clean off the dust and any debris that could potentially ruin the image. Then he turns off the lights and begins the process. You dive around him, trying to keep your distance but still too curious to leave his side. If he’s annoyed he fails to show it, in favor of humming whatever song comes from his Echo Dot.

You always got the solos in choir. You wanted to reminisce, but you’re too nervous to say it out loud.

Even though it’s his job and he’s being a professional, you romanticize the experience, watching as he carefully puts the print in each liquid process. Your image blooms to life, and you feel your stomach churn as the photo develops before your eyes.

After a final dip in the solution stopper, he places the first product in a bath of water. Even though you are mere centimeters away, you can clearly see the image of you swimming around the container.

“Alright!” Jungkook hangs the finished picture on a pastel pink clothespin, tacking it in place. “Whaddya think?”

Your breath catches in your throat, feeling heavy as you look at the image of you reflected in the glossy paper. You’re perched on your bed, a hand splaying between your legs as the other hand toys with the silk bunny ears. You’re leaned slightly, giving an ample view of your cleavage. However, the image of you is definitely different from being blown up in comparison to the negatives, and you squirm uncomfortably at your full display.

“I look,” you bite your tongue, internally debating whether you like it or not. Not to spare Jungkook the theatrics you shrug, “It’s good.”

The lack of enthusiasm seems to dissatisfy Jungkook however, as he has to take a double take and look back and forth between the image and the real thing. “What’s wrong with it, do you think Johnny’ll not like it?”

“What?” you furrow your brows, breaking into a nervous laugh. “Johnny has a boyfriend. I just wanted his opinion. This photoshoot is for me, y’know? Just something to make me feel good about myself.”

Jungkook’s lips morph into a little ‘o’, and you see a little bit of the child you once knew in the way he’s mulling over the situation.

“Then can I give you my honest opinion?” Jungkook clips off the half-dried photo, holding it between you two. “Stop thinking so hard about every little thing you don’t like about yourself. If I was your boyfriend and you gifted this to me, I’d be creaming my pants. You look fucking sexy, all grown up since you cried in the fourth grade.”

You’ve just been flung a litany of words you have no brain capacity to digest. Along with that, the immense heat you didn’t know you’ve been suppressing surges to your belly, low and simmering. Jungkook stares at you in earnest, despite his sudden gush of honesty, you don’t know what to say. There’s a dash of pink staining his cheeks, betraying the confidence he previously displayed. He stiffens when you don’t reply immediately and moves to clean his materials, his sudden bout of bold honesty quickly shrinking.

“Y-you know,” you look down at your feet, “the only reason why I cried in the fourth grade was because you told me Santa wasn’t real.”

Jungkook softens, tilting his head. “Sorry about that.”

“Thanks though,” you gently reach for the photo in Jungkook’s grasp, looking at it without contempt. “But won’t your girlfriend be upset if she knew you were saying things like this about someone else?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, if you looked through the rest of my Instagram story,” Jungkooks cards a hand through his already mussed hair, splitting the ends. “You would see that she’s not my girlfriend, but my tattoo artist.”

For added measure, he wiggles his fingers in front of you, revealing pretty ink and silver bands across his knuckles.

“Oh,” your voice is feather light, and you’re sure you’re drooling as you stare far too long at the letters that mark his hands, curious as to what they symbolize.

“So, as a singleton telling another singleton,” he continues, “I know it’s meaningless if you don’t believe it yourself, but I’m telling you, you’re attractive.”

“Thanks,” you hold the picture tightly in your grasp, eyes flickering to the negatives in the room ready to be galvanized into a full-fledged picture. “Why don’t we wrap this up, huh? We can continue another time.”

If he notices how much the paper wilts in your grasp, he doesn’t comment on it. “Are you sure? I know it takes a lot of time, but I don’t mind.”

“I’m sure,” you force a smile, one hand on the lightswitch. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready, okay?”

Jungkook swallows, nodding mechanically. “Okay.”

“It was really nice seeing you, Kook.” you blurt before you could chicken out, letting the room bask in darkness a little longer so he can’t see your flustered state. “I’m not even going to downplay it, you look great.”

You half-expect a cocky remark, or a little chest pumping from the compliment. At the sound of his nickname however, 4th grade Jeon Jungkook resurfaces and he shoves his hands in his pockets. “Like I said, so do you,” he replies easily, sending you a soft smile and opening the door for you.

The door closes shut behind you and you exhale, patting your cheeks and willing for the chilly air to calm you down.

When you get home that day, you shuck off all your clothes and crawl into bed. You cry out when the metal framing of your bunny ears stabs you in the back, and you fling it to some unmentionable part of the room. You reach for a bag of half-opened sour gummy worms, flipping open your MacBook to continue streaming the soft magical girl anime you’ve been hooked on these past few weeks.

Not even Sailor Uranus can distract you; however, by the time it’s dark and you’ve run out of distractions, you finally pull the plug and unblock Jungkook from your list of contacts.

Your phone buzzes, the incessant vibration relaying all the messages you’ve missed.

[March 12th, 3:53AM]

You: https://drive.google.com/drive/u/1/folders/0343…

John Kook: ???

John Kook: you probably sent this to me by accident… sorry i clicked on it

John Kook: is it weird if i said you’ve done a massive glow up since the middle school dance?

[March 12th, 12:02 PM]

John Kook: are u mad

John Kook: you’re mad

John Kook: am i makin this weird by continuing to text you

John Kook: im making it weird.

[March 31st, 6:24 PM]

John Kook: https://drive.google.com/drive/u/1/folders/049…

You tilt your head at the folder link, it was sent only a few hours ago. With a click, you’re enlightened to a set of digital photos. Your photos from your photoshoot, but not quite. They’ve been expertly edited, not too much to distort your looks, but only to enhance your features. A small, barely there smile creeps from your subconscious, ultimately touched by the gesture.

John Kook: sorry if i pushed too hard today.

Guilt overrides your nerves, prompting you to immediately press the call button on his contact. Not to your surprise, Jungkook’s light voice calls your name through the line after the second ring.

“Don’t be sorry,” you blurt, forgoing the hellos. “It was the right amount of push, I feel better, really. If anything, I’m sorry. I blocked your number because I was scared to read your reaction.”

You hear him sigh along the line, and you feel that breath ripple through your nerves, as if he’s right next to you. “It’s fine, I would’ve done the same thing.”

“The pictures you just sent, they’re really beautiful. You did a good job.”

“Thanks, I had a bit of help. I didn’t have to do much.”

“Oh, did Mingyu come back from his meeting?”

"No, I uh," Jungkook chuckles, and while you don't really know why, the sound is nonetheless pleasant. “It was mostly the lighting and coloring I fixed up. Didn’t need to do much since you already looked so pretty as it is.”

You choke on your saliva.

“You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you cough, “just choked on a snack I was eating.” he hums in reply, and you pray he doesn’t hear your stomach fervently retort that you haven’t eaten since lunch. “So, I think I’m up for developing more of the film. When can I drop by?”

“I’m free Saturday,” Jungkook chirps, “I have a shoot until noon but you can come anytime after that.”

“Sounds good, I’ll be there,” you clutch the phone with both hands. “I can bring lunch. What do you like to eat?”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”

“I’m already buying for Minghao,” you lie, “do you like burgers?”

“I can’t say no to a good burger,” Jungkook’s smile feels almost palpable against the line, “do you remember our field trip to the national museum of history? We had burgers on the street!”

“Oh, those were so good,” you moan, fuzzy memories of a middle grade field trip resurfacing to clarity, “but you ate like, ten of them!”

“I still get nightmares,” he warns, “don’t let me go to bed like this.”

You giggle, letting your body meld further into your warm mattress. “Maybe I’ll just show up with ten burgers for you tomorrow.”

“I’ll throw up on you, try me.”

Minghao’s adjusting the frames on their display wall by the centimeter, and it’s pissing him off.

“Ah, it’s off,” he mutters to himself when you walk in, indicated by the electronic bell. He turns to you briefly, pulling a leveler out of his overall pocket. “Doesn’t this look off?”

“Uh,” you look towards Mingyu at the front desk, who is paying no mind as he continues scribbling on his iPad. You tilt your head towards your former college classmate. “It doesn’t look off from over here?”

Tacking the leveler on one of the frames, he whines, “It’s five degrees off.”

Mingyu puts his pen down to reach over the counter and grab the paper from your hands, steaming with the scent of fast food, “He’s been like this for hours, don’t mind him.”

He doesn’t even ask whether the food is his, Mingyu sees grease and he claims. Reaching for an oil-wrapped parchment, he unfolds the paper to reveal a handsome burger with all the fix-ens.

Barely satisfied, Minghao steps away from the art display. There is a sizable gap in the display, now divided between four artists instead of three. You wonder how Jungkook’s work will look amongst the other artists.

“Cute ‘fit.” Minghao mumbles, nodding approvingly at your clothes as he digs into the bag for his own burger.

You send a half-smile his way. If an outfit is Minghao-approved, that means you’ve gone above and beyond. At least, you tried to play it off like you didn’t try to look cute. It’s not like you’re intimidated by Jungkook, living with a major fifteen-year glow up. After all, he’s already seen more than you can imagine.

Mingyu takes notice, eyes going south to where your white blouse meets your cleavage. You hurl a fry at his face, “Eyes up here, perv.”

He scrunches his nose, lifting a greasy thumb to slide a manila envelope over to you. “Here’s the developed pictures. Intercepted Kook and I finished them this morning.”

You frown, “Jungkook’s not done with his photoshoot yet?”

“Oh, he’s been done.” Mingyu’s eyes roll back to one of the studios. “But I’m saying is, you got what you needed. So you can leave if you want,” but he grins at you, canines so sharp you feel his stare jabbing you in the proverbial neck. “Unlesssss you want to go in and say hi.”

If he has any inkling of what’s going on in your head, it’s definitely confirmed when your face turns hot. Damn body, you’re betraying me! With a flourish you grab the fries from under Mingyu’s nose, along with whatever’s left in the fast food bag.

Minghao’s smiling through his burger, knowing if he pulls any type of savagery his lunch would certainly be pulled from under his chin.

“Whatever you’re thinking, drop it or the burger will be going in your ass instead of out.” You mean to sound menacing, but the Min-squared and their boisterous laughter follow you down the hallway and into the occupied studio.

“Hey Jungkoo—wow.”

You’re sure you look like Alice, enthralled by the little wonderland she just stepped into. The set is beautiful, right out of a fairytale. It has a very old-romance vibe, like Morticia and Gomez Addams. There lay a couch made of the darkest, richest wood, with velvet red cushions covering the body. Across the floor laid hundreds of black rose petals, blanketing the floor in a sea of ebony.

“It’s for a wedding, gothic themed.” Jungkook supplies helpfully, still fiddling with whatever he was looking on his digital camera. He’s looking utterly soft in a matching grey sweat combination, something that would easily disgust you during high school, but unfairly works with him.

“The shoot must’ve been beautiful.”

“It was.”

“I uh, got this for you.” Your fingers start to sweat from clutching the bag so hard, and you place it on his work table.

He finally looks up from his camera, giving you a wan smile. “I thought you got those for Minghao.”

You mentally slap your cheeks, trying to ignore the way his smile made your stomach do somersaults. “He got his own. Your portion has a cookie in it, so.”

His cute teeth unveil themselves at the mention of sweets, and you can’t help but smile back at the familiarity.

The two of you take your time in enjoying your lunch, not meaning to stay but the very back of your mind hoping he’d like to share a meal with you. After all, Mingyu and Minghao are probably at the front relishing in your very obvious attraction. What can you say, first crushes never die.

Between sips of your milkshake, you’ve taken to flipping through Jungkook’s portfolio. There’s a myriad of different subjects: beaches, people, the occasional squirrel. Each section of the portfolio feels like you’re being transported to a new side of Jungkook and his artistry, and you ached to know more.

“Wow,” you point at an action shot of two girls in a dance studio, “this duo looks like Chungha and Hyoyeon.”

He swallows his (second) burger, having the audacity to sink sheepishly in his sweater. “It is Chungha and Hyoyeon.”

You nearly choke on your cookie. “That’s amazing.” you say breathlessly, looking closer at the image. In fact, the beautiful women photographed are famed hip-hop choreographers Chungha and Hyoyeon. You can’t imagine how good Jungkook must be to manage a photoshoot with them.

As proud as you are of Jungkook, it reminds you that since middle school you two have lived completely different lives. You wonder if Jungkook gets these kinds of gigs all the time, hanging around with gorgeous, talented people like himself.

Jungkook says your name once, twice. He looks at you concerned, and you’re melting in his large carmine eyes. If he notices your usual overthinking, he doesn’t say anything, and gestures to the section at the end of his portfolio. “This isn’t my best work, but it’s one of my favorites.”

There’s something familiar about this set. A playground with a busted swing set. Children riding on bikes and colorful class shirts. Ice cream melting on fists.

Thirteen-year-old you hanging on top of your middle school’s leafless tree, clutching your baseball cap as you shade yourself from the sunset.

“Was this the first time you took pictures?” you ask, thumbing the picture of yourself.

“Yeah. It’s when I decided it’s what I wanted to do the rest of my life.”

“I know we didn’t know each other that well and we’ve only recently connected but,” you give him a shy smile, “I’m really proud of what you’ve grown up to be, Jungkook.”

He looks like you’ve hung him the moon and stars, his half-eaten burger loosening in his grasp. His lips are parted cutely, like a kitten who’s just been offered a fresh glass of milk. You cough at the sudden pause in conversation, feeling self-conscious of your impulse confession. You don’t even have it in you to be disgusted when Jungkook hastily shoves the second half of his burger down his throat, tips of his ears pink.

Leaving him be, you press a palm to your cheek, looking at the wedding set.

Jungkook downs half a water bottle before he speaks again. “Y’know, it would be a shame to clean up this set already. It was kind of expensive.”

“Yeah,” you echo, standing up and kicking off your slippers. You kick your feet in the air, watching the black petals kiss across your ankles.

“I have an idea,” he wipes his hands on his sweats, “why don’t you go back home and get an outfit you really like. Lingerie, a cute outfit, whatever. Let me give you a photoshoot you’d love.”

You look up from your petal dance, balking. “Jungkook! That’s not necessary, I told you the photos I took were okay.”

“Yeah but, you didn’t seem entirely happy. C’mon, I got a camera and a beautiful set. Why waste it?” his hands naturally gravitate towards his charging camera, already turning it on. “I can do lighting, I know all your good angles. What’s stopping us?”

Really, what’s stopping you? Your hands fiddle with your open flannel, the soft material comforting you as you look across the set. You try to imagine yourself, your body draped across the velvet pillows and black petals. Would it look good? Would you feel good? You think back to how you felt the first time, how scared you were when someone other than Johnny would be looking at your photos. You remember how something weird and sour contorted in your stomach when you scrolled through Jeon Jungkook’s Instagram, no longer the little boy you knew but a man who could have everything he wanted—

“Stop thinking about it.” Jungkook suddenly snaps, and you break from your reverie to catch him looking upset. It’s been awhile since you’ve seen him like that.

“Thinking about what?”

“Thinking that you’re out of my league.”

“Excuse me?”

“You were like this the other day too,” and he looks sad, and puts his camera down to come closer to you. “Why are you feeling this way. Is it me?”

“Not necessarily,” you huff, hugging yourself.

“Do you not feel beautiful? Do you not like your body?”

“No, I do.” you say to yourself, and you mean it. Even though there will inevitably be days where you may not feel one-hundred percent positive about yourself, you know at the end of the day, you love you and all its parts. “I don’t know, Jungkook. I had no problem letting Mingyu develop the photos originally, because he knew me in college and I was already sure of myself back then. But I guess when I sent them to you, I felt like I did when I was a little girl, y’know? Going through puberty, and worrying about what other people think.”

And it’s not like Jungkook teased you or made you feel lesser of yourself. In fact, Jungkook was the student you wanted to be when you were younger. Someone sweet and caring, and unabashedly confident about himself.

“I guess seeing you so successful and the fact that my stupid childhood crush came back from a time where I always felt low, made me feel a little insecure again.”

Something sinks in and you feel hyper aware of how crushed Jungkook looks at your declaration. “There’s no leagues, you got that?” he says quietly, walking so close that he’s hovering over you, sneakers brushing. “I get it. I get unsure and insecure just like you. Hell, I was nervous this morning, wondering if you’d really come. We may not feel insecure over the same things, but middle school wasn’t that great for me either.” He makes a funny face, and you feel a smile twitch across your lips. “But it’s okay. Because we’re human and we grow. But now, you are successful. You’ve grown from your time growing up and you’re a wonderful, powerful person. I’m proud of you too.”

“I know,” you mumble, leaning your forehead against his chest. His arms wrap around you in response, holding you snug.

“And for the record, I thought you were the most beautiful person in the world in fourth grade. Even though my world was pretty small back then, I can say now that what I thought back then still stands true.”

You look up from his embrace, where he’s leaning down to press a slow, cotton soft kiss to your forehead. He backs up a little to read your face, and you give a tiny nod in response to signal it’s okay. Jungkook exhales in contentment, relaxing against your frame.

“Thanks, Kook,” you crack a smile, feeling your insecurities slowly evaporate. You feel better, light, knowing that these negative feelings are only temporary, and you’re not alone. Being in Jungkook’s arms, an honest boy turned man you’ve known all your life, it feels almost like home.

You two stay like this for a while. Exchanging feather-like kisses, feeling irrevocably young and hopeful. Suddenly feeling emboldened, you tug him by the strings of his hoodie to press a long, hot kiss to his lips. There’s a stutter, and you’re pretty sure Jungkook choked on his saliva at the sudden change of pace but you continue, letting Jungkook catch up and follow your lead.

“Wow,” Jungkook pulls away and his lips are shiny and flushed. Adorable. You think 7th grade Jungkook would be rolling in his Naruto sheets if he knew you two would inevitably end up together. Conversely, 7th grade you would be squealing in your kitten plushie, proud that you managed to nab your childhood crush to live out all the fantasies you’ve imagined since the 4th grade.

“Jungkook,” you let your flannel fall to the floor in a heap, only leaving your baby blue top in a thin ruched camisole. “I think I want to do the photoshoot. Can’t pass up these pretty petals, y’know?”

He runs a hand through his hair, gaping. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you press a wet kiss to his neck, “anyway you want me, baby. Full creative control. I want you to like this as much as I do, okay?”

With the permission to hold the wheel, Jungkook’s lightheaded and spinning. His eyes rake up and down your gorgeous form, wondering how many good deeds he’s done in his past life to earn a right just as this.

“In that case,” he presses a palm to your shoulder, pushing you to sit along the velvet cushion, “strip for me.”

#jungkook fic #btsghostiebingo #goldenclosetnet #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #bts fic #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader

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amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 3 years

Text

Cheryl//you can’t go through life trying not to get hurt

Request: So can I ask for a cheryl x reader where r does everything to make cheryl happy and just being supportive of her?

hey! i kind of got just a little bit carried away with this. but i think i pulled it back! i hope you like it! also, i know the title is an archie quote but i don’t really care because it fits and i like it! plus, they’re both red-heads so what’s really the difference?

- We know Cheryl hasn’t had the best life

- Her entire family and everything to do with it is tainted

- So for a long while, she thinks she’s tainted to

- And when she meets you

- On a rainy Friday night, sat by Sweetwater River

- With your hair plastered to your face and the brightest smile she’s ever seen

- She knows she has to stay away from you

- Because anybody who can be that happy sat in the pouring rain

- Is somebody too pure for her

- So she turns around and heads back to her car

- Deciding that if she wants to be alone, she can just do it at home

- But then she hears it

- Your voice

- So soft, but so demanding

- And you’re calling her name

- Her name has never sounded so pretty

- Even if it is coming from a complete stranger, who’s staring at such a dark place like its the most beautiful thing in the world

- ‘yea-yeah?’

- Her confidence slips for just a few seconds and its purely down to the way you’re looking at her

- Like she’s filled with magic and wonder and mystery

- A mystery you’re going to solve

- Spoiler alert...you do

- ‘come sit’ You pat the rock beside you and she glances warily between you and it

- It may have stopped raining but that rock is still very wet and she’s wearing a new skirt

- ‘oh come on. live a little’ Your eyes sparkle as you speak

- She eventually concedes and sits beside you

- Now she just has to make sure she doesn’t give too much away

- Never let anyone else in

- Its the mantra she’s been repeating for as long as she can remember

- This time she’s going to stick to it

- Spoiler alert...she doesn’t

- Because thats easier said than done when a pretty girl is asking her questions

- Or just paying attention to her tbh

- So she asks you questions instead

- ‘how do you know who i am?’

- Normally she’d be afraid of a complete stranger who knew her name

- But this time, she’s just curious

- She wants to know who you are

- Why you’re in Riverdale?

- How has a town so full of dark secrets and awful people managed to capture you?

- She’s expecting a long winded explanation about how you just moved from a big city

- Because lets be real, thats the only place she can picture you living

- But instead you just laugh

- Such a light, unexpected laugh

- And now she’s unsure of what to say

- What do you say to that?

- ‘i know a lot about a lot’

- ‘wow’ She mutters

- She couldn’t help it

- She is Cheryl Blossom after all

- She can’t been seen as anything other than a bitch

- But when she see’s the flash of hurt in your eyes

- She can’t help but feel even more like the worst person in the world

- She mumbles a quick apology and looks at the river instead

- ‘its fine.’ You shrug. ‘you’ve been through a lot’

- ‘how do you know?’

- ‘i just do. but you will be okay cheryl, and don’t worry, you could never taint anything. i don’t think you’re capable of even leaving a trace of something bad.’

- She really wants to say something

- But what the hell do you say to that?

- And when she turns to face you, hoping the right words will find their way somehow

- You’ve vanished

- For a split second she thinks you’re a ghost

- Its not the first time she’s had full on conversations with the dead

- But then she hears a thud

- Followed by a groan and a small ‘ow’

- And it makes her laugh

- Like properly laugh

- The first she has in a while

- She watches you stand and give her an awkward wave before actually disappearing

- For the rest of the weekend you’re the only thing she can think of

- By the time Monday rolls around she’s determined to find you

- It can’t be hard

- You’ve got to be a new student

- And Betty gives tours to all the newbies

- She’ll just ask her

- Thats easier said than done though

- She tried looking for her cousin before classes started

- She even came in early

- But no luck

- So she has to wait until lunch time

- And that makes her worry

- By lunch time, you could have been told literally everything about her

- How her brother was murdered by her father

- How awful her mother is

- She was almost assaulted

- She attempted suicide

- And she joined a cult

- Just to name a few

- Riverdale High is a breeding ground for rumours

- Usually created by her

- But they spread fast around here

- When lunch time rolls around, she’s sure you’re going to know how much of a train-wreck she actually is

- Despite all of that though

- Something inside her wills her to ask Betty about you

- She then goes on to describe everything she remembers about you

- Maybe in a little too much detail

- ‘she had sparkly y/e/c eyes’

- ‘and y/c/h hair that framed her face in just the nicest way’

- ‘and her smile...it was wonderful’

- ‘...right. did you get a name?’

- ‘if i got her name do you really think i would be here right now?’

- ‘che-’ Betty is cut off by someone calling her name

- The sound of it making Cheryl feel like she can’t breathe

- She knows that voice

- Even Betty’s name sounds nice when coming from her

- From you

- But hold on

- You’re hugging Betty

- Thats way too friendly for someone you’ve only known for half a day

- ‘hi cheryl’ Your wave is less awkward than it was on Friday night, but your smile is just as cheerful as you look at the red head.

- Okay, now she definitely doesn’t know what to say

- Betty quickly puts two and two together and smirk appears on her lips as she looks between the two of you

- She has known about your small crush on Cheryl for a while

- So she decides to help you out

- ‘what were you saying about y/n’s smile? it was amazing? no! wonderful!’

- ‘shut up betty. i think your boyfriend wants you’

- She’s practically shooing Betty away and she mutters something under her breath but walks away anyway

- Once she’s gone, Cheryl turns back to you and just stares at you

- ‘so, you go here?’

- ‘yep?’

- ‘how long?’ She really doesn’t want to know the answer

- ‘as long as you have’ You don’t seem annoyed when she looks at you

- The opposite in fact

- You kind of look amused

- ‘how have i not noticed you?’

- ‘you’ve been pre-occupied I suppose’

- ‘how can i make it up to you?’

- ‘notice me’

- ‘i’ve definitely already done that.’

- ‘take me to pops then’

- She never wanted to do something more

- But she’s torn

- She wants to say no. To keep you safe from her and everything that come with being involved with a Blossom

- But the way you’re looking at her makes her knees weak and her head dizzy

- So she says yes

- And its the best decision she’s ever made

- At first you take it slow

- She’s been hurt before

- And she’s hurt other

- But something that makes it easier is the fact that you already know everything about her

- Even if you were in the background during most of it

- She’s so excited to get to know you

- One of the first things she learns is how you’ll do anything to make the people you love happy

- Especially her

- She’s quite literally never met anybody like you

- You’re just so supportive of her

- Nobody has ever treated her like that

- So at first she doesn’t really know what to do

- But then she remembers the night you met

- And how you were so kind to her

- Even though she didn’t know who you were

- And she slowly starts to get used to it

- In return she learns how to be more supportive of others

- Something her friends are incredibly grateful for

- To the actual supporting/happy bit because I kind of got a bit carried away

- Whenever she’s sad

- Whether it be because she’s missing Jason

- Her mom/other family members have made an unwelcome appearance in her life

- Someone has been rude to her

- Or she’s just sad

- You will do literally anything and everything to make her smile

- Cuddles? Hell yeah!

- She wants to stay in bed all day? That sounds like an amazing day.

- She wants to watch her favourite film/tv show? Definitely

- ‘where do you keep your dvd’s?’

- ‘what century are you living in? you know there is a thing called the internet.’

- She wants her favourite food from Pops? You’re already out the door

- You’ll go for drives around town while she tells you stories of her and Jason

- Or you’ll let her teach your archery or some other weird hobby she has

- Plus, you’ll tell her all the stupid jokes you know

- Usually she laughs more out of pity than humour

- But it still counts

- ‘sure it does babe’

- And if someone has made her angry

- It doesn’t really take much

- But you’re working on it

- You are 100% behind her if she wants to ruin their life (in moderation)

- You go along with whatever crazy plan/scheme she’s though of that week

- She wants to start a business? Where do you sign? This is the best idea ever

- Steal something from somebody thats wronged her? Where is the best place to buy spy-wear

- Create a little chaos? You’ve already got three ideas planned out you just need her approval

- Its not just silly things either

- She decides she wants to go to therapy (everybody in this town needs it, including Pop). You’ll go with her and wait outside of every single session if she wants you to.

- You usually spend the time googling how to help her (she just thinks you spend the entire time on Instagram)

- She wants to properly cut off her family (with the exception of Nana Rose and the twins). You 100% support her if thats what she wants

- As your relationship grows, so does your support

- She’s literally never felt more loved than when she’s with you

- And you make it a mission to make her feel like this for the rest of her life

- Spoiler alert...you do

support my writing! if you want!

#cheryl blossom #cheryl blossom imagine #cheryl blossom x reader #cheryl blossom x you #cheryl blossom x y/n #riverdale #riverdale imagine #cheryl #cheryl imagine #cheryl x reader

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out-there-so-it-isnt-just-me · 3 years

Text

Hey guys...I have an idea if you aren't sad enough yet. I was struck by a painful comparison sort of crossover idea. It would never be canon, but I'm mourning the end of Campaign Two, and I want to be sad and over-dramatic. Essek, but as Eliza from Hamilton in “Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story.” But, it’s for the entire Mighty Nien. Some of the lyrics are so on point for a poor Essek who will probably outlive all of his friends (Elves still generally live longer than Firbolgs by a good 200 years). Anyway, enjoy.

Every other founding father's story gets told

It occurs to Essek, during one of the many periods without one of the Mighty Nein (the time that he dwells on them the most), how unfair their whole situation is. They saved all of Exandria, and no one knows. They are amazing, and odd, and frustrating, and no one knows. They will die loved deeply, but not widely. He knows they prefer it that way, all things considered. But, everyone else who saves all of Exandria becomes legends, while the people he loves best will be forgotten, remembered only by him.

And that. That sounds unbearable.

So, in-between the times he sees the Mighty Nein, he begins to gather accounts. He writes down stories from those they helped, or simply left an impression on. The people who have met the Mighty Nein have an air about them that he gets good at detecting. They attracted the oddballs and the outcasts. And if they're entirely normal (whatever that means), then they usually get a certain twitch if you ask for stories about interesting strangers. About half the time, a certain blue tiefling pops up in them. He almost has a heart attack when he hears “go fuck yourself,” in Jester’s cheerful voice, when he knows Jester isn’t anywhere near there. He ends up getting the kenku’s story, and the voices of his friends are weaved into it. Essek thinks the Mighty Nein are the best people in the world, in their own rambunctious way. Part of him wants the world to love them as he does, or at least have the option to. Everyone should have a chance to get to know them, even if it's just through tales. The world would be a better place for it.

...And when you're gone, who remembers your name?

Who keeps your flame?

Who tells your story?

Once there is only him and Caduceus left, this becomes a more prominent part of how he spends his time. After...after a long, long period of mourning. He has so much life left to live without most of the people who made it worth living.

I put myself back in the narrative

I stop wasting time on tears

I live another 50(0) years

He stops hiding his past and bears his sins and his story to the world. Essek tells his story so their story can be appreciated to the fullest; his part in their story emphasizes the depth of their compassion and chaos. He tells his story, but not as himself. Essek continues to drift from town to town under a vast number of aliases. Everywhere he goes, he spreads his stories of his friends, some serious, most silly. He disguises himself so he can stay alive to do a little more good, tell a few more stories, to truly live the life his friends wanted for him.

...I try to make sense of your thousands of pages of writings

You really do write like you're running out of time.

Eventually, he gets his hands on some of Beau’s journals, Jester’s diaries, and Caleb’s research. Well, he always had the research, but he gets to the point where he can share it with the world. He slowly begins to share and explain their thoughts and personalities with excerpts from those. Maybe he also has letters that he shares parts of (though most of those, those words specifically for him, he keeps to himself, for himself). He wonders if they'd be angry at him for spilling their private thoughts. But neither Beau nor Jester filtered their thoughts very much in the first place, and he keeps anything truly painful out of the public eye. Caleb, well, Caleb was always about sharing his knowledge and research, provided it wasn't dangerous. And they were all dead anyway. One of the last things they told him was to be happy. And talking about his friends, learning more about his friends even after they were long dead, that made him the happiest he'd been in a while. So he hoped they wouldn’t begrudge him this small joy he’d managed to grasp and forgive him, should it be necessary.

I rely on Angelica

While she's alive, we tell your story

She is buried in Trinity Church near you

When I needed her most, she was right on time

Caduceus isn’t particularly interested in being well known or famous, but he never shies away from telling a story about any of his friends. Plus, he thinks it’s a good project for Essek. It's a way to continue to show his love for them and keep them alive in the only way they can be now. When Caduceus eventually passes away, he joins the eight other graves (Veth refused to be buried apart from Yeza) that lay in a tucked-away corner of the Blooming Grove. There is one space left, nestled between where Caleb and Jester lay, but it will be empty for a long time yet.

And I'm still not through

I ask myself, what would you do if you had more time...

...You could have done so much more if you only had time

And when my time is up, have I done enough?

Will they tell your story?

He keeps adding to his tale; he stretches it longer and longer with every shred he can remember. But, even his memory, as long as it is, runs out eventually. And their story finally ends, but he doesn't. He throws himself into activities that remind him of them. He does a lot of gardening ( mostly tea, poisonous plants, and flowers). He teaches children some rudimentary dunamancy in his spare time, for Caleb. He messes around with alchemy a little. Eventually, he publishes the last of the research that he and Caleb worked on together; ones that took him decades to solve by himself. He even finds himself drawing a surprising amount of dicks on random surfaces near the very end.

Oh, can I show you what I'm proudest of?

...I help to raise hundreds of children

I get to see them growing up

The time that doesn’t go towards his now worrying amount of hobbies, he spends doing what he has done since the beginning: caring for the Mighty Nien’s true legacy. He looks after and visits their children. He takes care of descendants of Luc, of Jester and Fjord, of the random teenager that Beau and Yasha seemed to adopt completely on accident, of TJ, of the Clays, and of a lovechild of Kingsley’s that found out who his father was and then somehow found Essek himself to learn about him. In an embarrassing show of sentimentality, Essek always keeps at least one offspring of Caleb's very first cat. There is a very funny story about Caleb thinking the animal was spayed when it was, in fact, not. He visits the different generations every couple of years or so (he has a schedule). The drow makes sure they know the stories of their ancestors, the adventures of the Mighty Nien; he tells them it's all real. He gives them ways to contact him if they’re in danger, or need any kind of help really ( he has funds to spare at this point). Every once in a while, a few of them will get it in their heads to write him yearly updates. It’s nice.

In their eyes, I see you, Alexander

I see you every time

And when my time is up

Have I done enough?

Will they tell your story?

It is strange and painful to see the attitude and mannerisms of the Nein in the descendants who have never met them. It is wonderful too. His stories of the Mighty Nein have become well-known tales that no one can decide how much is truth and how much is fiction (it’s true, it’s all somehow, hilariously true). He preserved them in his own way, in the right way (time travel is something he thinks of with a growing hunger the more years pass between when he last laid eyes on his friends). But in these men, these women, these children, they are truly alive.

One little half-orc girl has Jester’s mischievous eyes and infectious joy. Another halfling man squints just like Veth when she's trying to figure out if someone is bullshitting her. There’s a boy who charmingly bumbles his way through most social encounters, as Fjord did. A firbolg woman who has Caduceus gentle smile. A tiefling girl with all the audacious bravado of Kingsley. A man with eyes just as piercing as Beau’s, and a tongue just as sharp. Even Yasha’s kind and gentle demeanor somehow shines through in one small boy, despite her having no direct descendants. He gets to see these flashes of his friends in those who survive them, and it thrills him as much as it cuts him. (Sometimes, when the current cat has ruined some item of his, the pleased look it wears resembles the quiet glee Caleb exuded after he pulled a successful prank, but he’s pretty sure that’s just fanciful thinking.)

One of the last things Essek does before he dies is fully publish, in print, the entire tale of the Mighty Nein. How they came together, every person they helped along the way. The love, the loss, the kindness, the chaos, every moment he could recall or record was put into this one account (necessarily stretched out into several separate books). There is only one set, and he hands it over to the Library of the Cobalt Soul in Rexxentrum. Then he goes on his lonely way.

Oh, I can't wait to see you again

It's only a matter of time

There are now ten graves, each one as unique as its owner, nestled in a small corner of the Blooming Grove. One grave has the dirt still fresh around it. And somewhere, beyond the Divine Gate, there are cheers and laughs and cries of joy as the Mighty Nien become the Mighty Nine once more.

fin.

It’s my head-canon that by the time Essek dies he’s practically a mythical figure among the select families he looks after. It's to the point that in certain locations ( that have a lot of Nein remnants) he becomes a local legend, the guardian angel of nien (no spelling specified and with no real distinction of what that means), with skin like the night sky who drifts (literally) through towns and helps those who meet a certain requirement, unknown to the general populus. There are rumors that certain people have bestowed upon them a token they could use to call upon the angel’s aid. Of course, the people who have the tokens (sending stones or something similar. IDK how he would get that many wondrous items, but I focus on satisfying narrative not, like, plausibility) know Essek and know that he has died and that the tokens no longer work, but for a while they keep them as heirlooms, to show the love of one drow wizard for the friends he had long, long ago. Eventually, one of Veth’s descendants sells off their set because sending stones are worth A LOT, and the money seemed more practical. They have their stories; those are enough.

And before anyone complains about the Kingsley bit, I felt compelled to add a smidgen of Kingsley content because Essek loves Jester and Jester’s with Fjord and Kingsley is with both of them for years. I’m sure they get to know each other well enough that seeing traits of Kingsley is vaguely nostalgic and warming, even if it lacks the depth and love he feels for everyone else. Also, there’s no convincing me that Molly/Kingsley doesn’t have at least one illegitimate child running around from various trysts, he was basically the Scanlan of this campaign. It goes with the hedonistic vibe he gives off.

Also, is it normal that I completely designed the Nein’s burial site in my head because I did? Like I imagine they’re all spaced out in a circle. It’s almost like a stone gazebo but there’s not really a roof; it’s just a group of nine pillars that support a stone circle. The entrance is the Traveler’s door with dicks around the edge, and each of the nine pillars/supports is designed to look the knowing mistresses staff. The stone circle is covered in carvings of storm clouds and lightning. Wires are strung across the center of the stone circle to form the symbol of the Cobalt Soul. Not that you can see the wires, because vines have been grown all around them. Once you step through the Traveler’s gate, you’ll find yourself on some kind of rough mosaic floor, with depictions of a peacock, a pyramid, a snake, a sun, a moon, and (oddly) a pirate ship. The mosaic is made up of buttons of various materials and shapes. In the center is a saltwater pool/spring (depending on how magical we can get idk) and floating above it is an eternal flame encased in some sort of dunamancy magic that doesn’t actually exist that keeps it floating and eternal. Look I'm running out of ideas.

I can’t imagine what everyone’s grave marker would be, but I’m pretty sure Yasha’s is a simple stone that says "YASHA NYDOORIN: wife of Zuella and Beauregard Lionette," and the place where’s she’s buried is just covered in wildflowers that spread outside of the gazebo to encircle the structure entirely up to the gate. Also, everyone has a stone tarot card by their grave with the picture and designation that Molly gave them. Beyond that grows a weirdly dense thicket of trees and bushes that make finding the Nein's resting place rather hard. It’s said only the descendants of the Nein’s family or those favored by the Wildmother (or Traveler, Or Ioun, or Storm Lord) can find their way to them. And one tree, directly behind Yasha, is dead, struck by lightning who knows how long ago.

And they’re buried in this order: Yeza/Veth, Caleb, Essek, Jester, Ford, Kingsley, Yasha, Beau, Cad. I know there’s a good chance that a) Kingsley would just eff off and die somewhere unknown and b) Cad would probably want to be buried with the rest of his family, but shhh let me dream.

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thestupidhelmet · 3 years

Note

One difference: Donna gives the Zeppelin tickets to Jackie and Hyde when she finds out about their kiss?

It's the perfect one-shot material, and I would LOVE to read it coming from you

Sorry for bothering you by the way, this is just a silly little prompt that's been in my mind for a LONG time

It's no bother at all! 😃 In fact I ended up writing you (and myself and everyone else) a ficlet inspired by your ask.

I think that scenario could make a good one-shot, but for me it doesn't have enough stakes to write as a One Difference story. Plus, it wouldn't be possible without several important differences established at the get-go, not just one:

Donna can't or won't go to the concert herself for some reason; remember, the point of that storyline is her choosing whom to go to the concert with since Eric is unavailable.

Fez and Caroline's mutual romantic interest and awkwardness in engaging with each other would have to be reworked so Donna doesn't feel compelled to give them the concert tickets.

Jackie would have to want to go to the concert despite Donna not being with her. Jackie's goal in that episode is "to win". What drives her in that episode is a combination of ego, greed, and the validation that Donna would enjoy her company best out of her, Hyde, and Kelso.

With all those variables taken care of, the way I'd approach the story is the following.

I would take Donna having learned about Jackie and Hyde's kiss out of the equation. Jackie and Hyde's Veteran's Day date isn't a secret. Everyone at the Formans' BBQ, including Kelso and Fez, heard Hyde tell Jackie they were going "on a freakin' date."

The mystery for Jackie and Hyde's friends is what happened during that date. Since Jackie and Hyde don't have a follow-up date and essentially go back to status quo, mystery solved: the date was a dud.

Mystery solved for everyone but perceptive Donna.

She spots Hyde's uneasiness around Jackie. For a month, he's been working on shutting himself off from his romantic feelings toward Jackie -- as well as the resentment he's experiencing from her having pursued him so long only for him to be left "holding the bag" (i.e. be the one with unrequited feelings he never wanted, that developed against his will for a variety of reasons, some of which he'd done his best to avoid -- but Jackie's ignoring of his no and his boundaries made that impossible).

Donna tries to get the truth out of Hyde the direct route. No go, but she figured that was a long shot. So she gives him the concert ticket, knowing he wouldn't miss seeing Led Zeppelin for anything.

Even if Jackie's in the arena seat next to him.

Donna gives Jackie the other ticket without Hyde's knowledge. When Jackie learns Donna isn't going with her, Jackie hands back the ticket and says, "Oh, forget it. Just scalp the ticket and give me half of whatever you get."

Donna: Okay, but I gave the other ticket to Buddy Morgan.

Upon hearing this, Jackie snatches back the ticket. Going to a concert with Buddy will up her social status in school. Donna tells her, though, that he won't be taking her since it's not a date. She'll have to get to the concert on her own.

When Hyde and Jackie discover each other at the concert, Hyde curses under his breath.

Jackie: You're not Buddy Morgan.

Hyde: No crap.

Jackie: Ugh. Did he sell the ticket to you? He's rich! He doesn't need the money -- unless his parents cut him off. What a nightmare.

Hyde: You're tellin' me.

Jackie: What do you know about being cut off financially? You never had any money to begin with.

Hyde: Back to normal. Great. [He thinks: Jackie acting like the snobby, judgmental Jackie he first encountered will help him get over him faster.] But that's not what I meant, man. If you ruin this concert for me, I'm gonna-

Jackie: If I ruin this concert for you? Steven, you've been a big fat jerk to me all month. If anyone's going to ruin anything, it's you ruining tonight for me.

Hyde: I haven't been a jerk.

Jackie: So you've just been being yourself? That's a relief.

Hyde: Uh ... okay.

Jackie: Don't you understand? It means I didn't make a mistake. I was right when I said I felt nothing when we kissed. I already had one terrible boyfriend. I don't need another, so I'm glad there was no -- [gestures with her hand in the air] -- spark between us.

Hyde tries to follow-up on what Jackie just said, but the concert starts. They spend the first half ignoring each other, but the music's so good they can't help but connect through it: glancing at each other and smiling during certain songs, dancing (i.e. swaying) at the same time, etc.

Afterward, on their way out of the arena, Jackie says, "I knew you could dance, but I didn't know you swayed."

Hyde: I don't sway.

Jackie: You swayed for most of the concert!

Hyde: That's called rockin' out.

Jackie: Looks like swaying to me.

Hyde: You should get yourself some freakin' glasses then.

Jackie: Excuse me?

Hyde: Nothing.

In the parking lot, Jackie asks how Hyde's getting back to the Formans'.

Hyde: Bus.

Jackie: It's almost midnight.

Hyde: So?

Jackie: The bus hardly ever shows up around this time of night, and you'll be fighting for a spot on it with a bunch of bus-dwellers.

Hyde: Guess so. [He begins to walk away from her.]

Jackie: Steven wait! I'll drive you home.

Hyde: No, thanks. Wouldn't want you to have to spend any more time with me then you have to, and I sure as hell don't want to spend more time with you.

Jackie: God, you really are such a jerk! Just let me drive you home. Maybe that'll make you hate me a little less.

Hyde: Who said I hated you?

Jackie: You don't have to say it. You're showing me.

Hyde: Look, I don't hate you. I just can't stand bein' around you.

Jackie: Why? I thought we were past that.

A high and/or drunken stranger passes by them, knocking Jackie into Hyde.

Jackie and Hyde: Hey! Watch where you're going!

Jackie [shoving herself away from Hyde]: Watch where you put your hands.

Hyde: Watch where you put your body.

Jackie: That guy pushed me into you. You could've stepped back and let me drop to the pavement.

Hyde [scoffing]: Right.

Jackie: Right. ... So are you going to let me drive you home or not?

Hyde: Whatever.

But Hyde walks with Jackie to her car and gets into the passenger seat. They don't talk at all during the drive to the Formans'. She pulls into the Formans' driveway. He gets out of the car and halfway closes the passenger-side door before saying a quick, "Thanks."

Jackie watches Hyde enter the Formans' backyard and disappear down the basement stairs. She says, "Thanks," back, although he can't hear her. He didn't let her fall while Michael, in the past, had been the one to shove her aside to save his own skin. She begins to suspect Hyde's attitude change toward her isn't random.

The next day, Jackie and Hyde both confront Donna in the basement about pairing them up at the concert. Donna tells them she's sick of their bickering, especially Hyde's.

Hyde: Me? I'm just tryin' to live my life without dealin' with Jackie's B.S.

Jackie: My ... what is wrong with you? What did I do?

Hyde: Let's focus on who we're really pissed at, man: Donna.

Jackie: No, Donna's right. You've been treating me like garbage since our date.

Hyde: Hey, I warned you a hundred times about who I am. Not my fault you ignored it.

Jackie: This is not who you are.

Hyde: That's not what you said last night.

Jackie: I was angry at you last night ... and you've been angry at me for the last month! Oh, my God, you felt something during our kiss, didn't you?

Hyde [incredulous]: No! Donna, tell her she's nuts.

Donna: Hold on, you two kissed?

Jackie: Yeah. It was really hot, but it made me realize I'm not in love with Steven. I was idolizing him, just like you told me.

Donna: You two kissed?

Hyde: Who cares? It meant nothin'.

Jackie: It was very special, actually. I'm grateful you gave me a chance after all your rejection, and I'm sorry I don't have true feelings for you. That doesn't mean I don't care about your feelings.

This conversation is hitting too close to home for Hyde. Jackie's honesty also hurts. Hyde needs to end this interaction and establish a new status quo between himself and Jackie, one where he doesn't have to have conversations like this. Especially in front of a witness.

Hyde: That's cool. Alls I got to say about our date is you clearly got no clue how I felt 'cause you never listen to what I freakin' say. If you did, we never would've ended up on the hood of your car. We're never gonna be friends, but if some dillhole crashes into you and I'm around, I won't let you hit pavement.

Hyde leaves and locks himself in his room. Jackie gazes after him, sadly, while Donna looks at Jackie questioningly.

Jackie: Poor Steven. ... He's in love with me.

~The End~

#That 70s Show #That '70s Show #Jackie x Hyde #Jackie Burkhart #Donna Pinciotti #Ask #Anon #Fanfic #Ficlet #Fanfic Idea

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kotachii · 3 years

Text

Amusement Park

Pairing: Ace x Reader

Type: Modern! Au

Summary: While lost in an amusement park, you meet a stranger

The skies were clear and the day was warm, it would of been a splendid afternoon only if you weren't lost in the amusement park. You came to the amusement park with your friends but you got separated from them after getting off a roller coaster. Apparently, there were three exits and you unknowingly went out a different one than them leaving you all alone in the mist of people. After frankly searching for your friends to no avail, you decided to wander around aimlessly.

You sigh as you popped down in one of the benches beside the scintillating water fountain located in the center of the park. A frown found it's way on your face as you were tired of searching. You really wanted to go on the "Reverse Mountain", known as the biggest attraction in the Grand Line theme park but going alone would be so embarrassing. You shuddered as you could already imagine the piteous look on affectionate couple's faces as they you alone in line, or the pat on the back the employees give you when you say the dreaded phrase of "single rider". There was no way you were going on any attractions before you find your friends.

"Hey, why do you look so lonely?", a black haired male asked you as he takes a sit beside you.

"Um...are you talking to me?"

"I don't see anyone else."

"If you are just trying to flirt with me, this is not going to work."

"Chill, no need to be so serious."

"I am not trying to, it's just common sense to stay away from strangers."

"No wonder you look so sad!"

"What do you mean?", you asked him, bewildered by his statement.

"If you are always trying to distance yourself from strangers, then, you will never meet anyone. You will live a lonely life," he flashed you a grin as he looked at you straight in the eyes.

"Well, thank you for your concern but I am not lonely at all", you replied with a slight frown. This man was starting to annoy you.

"Don't lie. If you are not lonely, why would you be sitting alone in an amusement park just staring at the couple by the ice cream shop?"

You blushed and shook your head to deny but you were cut off by him asking you sternly, with his smile gone, replaced by a serious expression, "So tell me the truth, why are you all alone?"

You weren't sure how to respond but due to his genuine concern, you replied in a quiet and embarrassed voice, "Actually, I got separated from my friends I can't find them anywhere."

"Woah, what an coincidence, I got lost from my friends too", he replied enthusiastically as if it was something to be happy about, "well, if you really are lost then you shouldn't be sitting here, we can go look for our friends together."

"Together? But we've never met before!"

"And your point is? Lost people should stick together, that's what my grandpa told me."

"I don't think it works that way."

"That's the main difference between me and you, this is how you meet new people," he replied with a wink.

You couldn't help but chuckle at his silly gesture. Without hesitation, you brushed your pants and stood up, "So Captain, where should we go?"

~~~

Despite the exuberant meeting, the conversation died down into an awkward silence. You've already walked passed the entrance to "Reverse Mountain", so many times and you are more than excited to go on that ride but of course, you still need to find your friends beforehand.

"Um...", you stuttered as you realized you didn't know how to refer him, "say, do you want to go on some rides, I mean, we are in an amusement park, right?"

He turns his head to look at you, "Yeah, you're right, all of this walking around and searching is getting me tired, what rides should we go on?"

Your eyes shine brightly as your look targets once again on the entrance to "Reverse Mountain", with a grin on your face, you opened your mouth to say, "Reverse Moun-"

"I know, let's go on the Merry-Go round!", he shouts and interrupts you.

You yelped as he grabs your wrists and drags you to the waiting line of 5 people to go on the Merry-Go round of the Grand Line Theme Park. While you were disappointed at the low intensity of this ride, you couldn't help but find this guy adorable for choosing this childish ride out of every attractions in the theme park.

"What a manly ride for a man your size," you said sarcastically.

"Haha, I was worried you will be too scared to go on the larger rides", he replies grinning as usual.

The two of you chose the horses located beside each other and the Merry-Go round starts to roll to life with music, lights and spinning as it goes.

"Hey, over here!", he shouts over the music as he holds up his phone and takes a selfie with you. You quickly strike a silly pose and he continue snapping pictures but soon, the ride slows as it looses it's momentum into a stop.

"That was fun," he said as you two exited the ride, "So, now, where do you want to go?"

"The Reverse Mountain!", you almost shouted too loudly and enthusiastically.

"Nuh huh, we should leave the best to the last and plus, the waiting line is an hour right now."

"Fine, I guess it is your pick again", you said, slightly pouting your cheeks.

"The Haunted Mansion looks great", he said.

"E-Eh?", you panicked a bit since you have always been scared of ghosts and supernatural being and not to forget, the Grand Line's Haunted Mansion has always been known as a "pirate's graveyard" due to it being so scary and realistic.

"How a-about late-er?", you replied stuttering a bit.

"Is someone scared?", he teases you with a smirk on his face.

"No, I just think we should save the best one for the last," you lied.

"Haha, you are cute when you try to act tough, don't worry, I will protect you from anything scary and plus, we already have Reverse Mountain placed for last."

~~~

You bit your lips nervously as you were handed a lantern to share between you and him. The employee in the entrance told you two to walk directly down the hall, turn left and walk up the staircase and follow the arrows on the ground and of course, the cliched saying of "beware for supernatural beings". The farther down the hall you walk, the more nervous you felt. The hall was illuminated solely by the dim lantern the man, which you still haven't ask his name yet, was holding. As that thought cross your mind, you decided to finally ask your companion for a proper introduction. As of now, you were already up the staircase, and there has been nothing except for fake cobweb and old furniture.

"Hey, Mr. Companion, you know, you've never introduced yourself", you said but was hushed by him immediately.

"Wait, don't talk, I think I hear something," he said as he holds up the lantern to silence you.

The two of you stop mid-track and the silences takes over once again except this time, you heard a creaking noise. You could feel your heart pounding since neither you or him was moving, yet the ground was creaking and faint footsteps could be heard. Your companion turned his lantern around a few times to illuminate the otherwise pitch-black hall but no sign of another person's presence could be seen.

"Let's just keep moving, I don't wanna be here anymore", you said as you lean in closer to him.

"This haunted mansion really lives up to it's title, don't you agree? Even I am getting chills," his voice trailed off towards the end.

"I fee-"

You weren't able to finish your sentence as a figure dressed in a glowing white gown suddenly hanged down from the ceiling right in front of you. Blood was dripping from it's fabric, long black hair cascading over it's face into messy tangles and knives hooked onto their bony fingers. A scream erupted from your throat as adrenaline flows through your body. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest and tears threatening to flow out. You were beyond scared but to your surprise, in a swift of a motion, the man who was walking with you pulled you into his chest to prevent you from seeing the prop that hanged down from the ceiling. You could feel his warm hands on the back of your head, your face engulfed by his sweet aroma. You kept your eyes shut as your face was still buried into him, after about a minute or so, you could hear a cranking and he finally spoke.

"Hey, are you alright?", he asked.

You tried your best to nod even though your face was still pressed into his chest.

"It's gone now, it was just a fake prop they used but I guess it did look very realistic", he assured you as he slowly let go of you from the hug.

You felt embarrassed by your actions but much to your surprised, you missed the warmness of his comfort.

"Let's get out of here", he said with a warm smile on his face. He grabbed your wrist once again and pulled you along with him. You two jogged out of this haunted mansion without paying attention to any other decor or actors looking to scare the trespassers. You no longer felt scared knowing that he was here to protect you but by this mere thought, you could still feel your heart pounding. You weren't sure if it was from the fear of this mansion or maybe, you felt a new feeling tugging inside your heart.

You welcomed the sunlight of the exterior as you were more than glad to have exited the dreadful haunted mansion. This is the first time you've admitted of your fear of ghosts to others because you liked to be considered as a strong woman but you didn't felt uncomfortable about sharing this side of you to him.

"So, what were you going to ask me while we were inside?", he asked you as soon as you left the mansion.

"I was going to ask you about your name," you replied matter-of-factly.

"Ah, I didn't tell you my name?", he asks you looking confuse.

"No, you didn't."

"Really? I thought I did, are you sure?"

"Yes I am positive I still have no idea who you are."

"Ace. My name is Portgas D. Ace," he replied, holding out his hand for a handshake.

"I'm (Name) (Last Name)," you said, accepting his handshake.

"(Name) (Last Name).....this sounds so familiar," he said as he tilts his head to the side.

"Really? Where?"

"I know I've heard it somewhere but I don't know where."

"How about you, your name sounds really mysterious, what does the "D." stand for?"

"I am not sure myself, I think it's just a family thing. Anyways," he said changing the topic, "do you want something to eat?"

"I am not that hungry."

"Well, I am, the last to the ice cream shop is paying!", he shouted as he charged into full speed sprinting towards the ice cream shop.

"Hey, wait no fair!", you chased him but was not able to catch up to his speed.

~~~

The day was ending and so was your adventures with this stranger called Ace. The two of you still haven't found your friends and the park will be close in an hour or so. The sunset stretches the shadows within the park leaving long silhouettes plastered on the ground. You and Ace were walking side by side, no longer going on rides since both of you "Yeah," you trailed off, scared that he might propose for the two of you to go your separate ways.

"This day was fun," he said, looking at the sky as it starts to turn into an orange and pink artwork.

"Umm... Ace, do you want to maybe....s-stay in touch?", you asked blushing deeply.

"Looks like you're not that bad at making friends", he said chuckling, "how about I give you my phone number?"

Then, you suddenly remembered that you had your phone this entire time. You could of called your friend a long time ago. You were a dumbass for sure but if you weren't so forgetful, you would of never met Ace. You gave him your phone and he wrote down his name and his number, and you did the same on his phone.

"Oi! (Name)! Where did you go?", you heard your friends call you from behind. You turned around and waved back. You were about to thank Ace again for today but he was gone. However, a message appeared on your phone.

Ace <3: What d'you say to a cup of coffee tomorrow?

#ace x reader #portgas d. ace x reader #portgas ace x reader #one piece x reader #one piece #portgas d. ace #op x reader #one piece imagines

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sweetchup · 4 years

Note

Hi!! If your ask box is open, could I get a fluffy kurapika x reader? Just something very gentle and soft and maybe some cuddles bc kurapika deserves lots of loving!! Thank you so much!!

Wild Berry Pie

Type: Kurapika x Reader

Au?: None

Word Count: 2,300+

Warnings: None

“Hold on what?!?” You shout; surprise. Hold up, Why should you be surprised? This was Kurapika you were talking about. But seriously? You were going to scold your boyfriend so hard for only sleeping a total of 15 hours this whole week, getting himself injured (thankfully he could heal himself but still), working himself to death and, on top of that, this was all after recovering from a really bad sickness.

Melody hushes you as the other patrons of the cafe turn and glare at you. You let out a small squeak of an apology at them before returning to sipping on your drink, all the while mumbling, “Kurapika… what the heck were you thinking...”

“I’m sorry (y/n)-Chan. I didn’t mean to get you worked up, I just wanted to let you know.”

You look at Melody in front of you, the woman was looking down at her drink in shame. She knew it wasn’t her fault that Kurapika wasn’t taking care of himself but she felt bad for not telling one of her closest friends and Kurapika’s girlfriend, (y/n), sooner. You shake your head, giving a small smile. “Please It’s not your fault he’s acting this way. I’ve been gone for a while and I shouldn’t have left in the first place, I mean I kind of expected this. He’s practically been out of it since York New. Plus, on top of that, he has the amount of stress Nostrade is putting on him due to Neon losing her Nen.”

Melody gives a smile at the girl in front of her. No wonder Kurapika was in love with her. (Y/n) was not only pretty on the outside but also on the inside. Her voice was so soft and heartwarming, it could calm the harshest of storms and also act like a nice warm campfire on a cold bitter night. The smile (y/n) produced, even the smallest of ones, was practically contagious and definitely lit up a room. And her heart, oh her heart, produced such a loving melody. It sung with all her compassion for her comrades, friends and even the well-being of some strangers.

She practically was the light of hope in Kurapika’s life. The small thing that he knew could give him some purpose after all his revenge plans were done. Sure, it would be hard for him, very hard in fact, to figure something out when everything’s all done. But he knew that (y/n) would be there right next to him, never ever thinking of leaving him behind.

“Oh, (y/n)-Chan are you okay?” Melody says concerned as you suddenly stand up. You look at the women in the eyes, yours gleaming with determination.

“I know exactly what to do! Kurapika has an early shift tonight and a late one tomorrow so I’ll make him something special tonight. To get him to relax.”

Melody giggles. Oh how kind you were. “That would be perfect (y/n)-Chan.”

Ecstatic, (y/n) pays for their drinks, giving melody a small ‘thank you' and waves as she rushes out the door. Melody waves back before returning to her drink. Looking at the tea cup, she starts thinking back, back to York New, back to the Nostrade Mansion, Back to the hunter exam, back to that one tragic night and finally thinking of now, on how thankful she was of (y/n) and —

Melody is suddenly startled out of her thoughts as (y/n) slides to the table, almost slipping past her. The girl is clearly tired since she is sweaty and out of breath. Melody blinks a couple of times, unsure of what happened to (y/n).

“M-melody? Do you happen—happen to have the keys to the dorms-s”

Melody blinks some more before breaking out in laughter. Oh how silly (y/n) could be.

—————————

“And…. Done!”

You let out a sigh and stretch your back. It was hard work getting all this done but it was definitely worth it. Putting your hand on your hips you take in the living room in front of you. The Tv was on with a classic comedy movie, ready to be started. Part of the floor and coach was covered head to toe in different blankets, stuffed animals and pillows to lounge on. Then there was the coffee table, which held many sweets, snacks and drinks and finally the main course of it all….

“(Y-y/n)?” A voice says behind you. Spinning around you see Kurapika taking his shoes off with his bag dropped on the floor. He looked amazed as he looked at the set up in front of him.

“Surprise!” You shout, running up to your boyfriend and giving him a hug. Pulling away you boop his nose, “I thought you needed it especially after I heard you weren’t taking care of yourself. Hmph! How many times do I have to tell you to get a good amount of sleep?!”

Kurapika lets out a small smile at you. “Sorry I’ve been very bus—“

“No buts Mister kurapika” you say, poking his chest. “You're so stubborn sometimes. That’s why I have to come and make you chillax~.”

He lets out a small chuckle as you pull him towards the pile of pillows. Though he soon takes your hand off his arm before you can make him sit. “I’m sorry you had to go through so much trouble but I actually have to get some work done.”

“W-What? Did you not hear what I just said?!” You say. Kurapika looks away from you. This idiot. You bring your hands up to his face, forcing him to look at you. “Kurapika you need to rest. You—“

“(Y/n) I’m sorry I need to get this done.” He says in a firm voice, pulling your hands off his face as he walks away. He was longer playing around and you knew if you continued you could anger him. Clenching your teeth you raised your voice a little bit.

“Kurapika if this is about the spiders it can wait!”

He snaps his head around.

“Excuse me?” He says with a dangerous low voice.

“I said if this is about the spiders it can w—“

“What do you know? Huh?!” Kurapika says furious. He stalks towards you and backs you up against the wall. You choke up as you lock eyes with his scarlet ones, “You still have everything! Your family! Your childhood! Your best friend! I got mine all taken away. What do—“

“I DON’T!” You shout. Stopping him dead in his tracks as he sees a tear go down your face. He was so exhausted and out of it that he had taken his anger out on you. This wasn’t right and he knew he needed to calm down. Wiping the tears off your face you continue, “I don’t understand. I don’t think I ever will but I don’t want you to end up destroying yourself!”

“That’s not your job (y/n). It’s non—“

“It is because I love you. It’s my job as your girlfriend, your lover, to look after your well being Kurapika! I would be a horrible one if I didn’t ever try.”

Both of you are silent for a second after your final outburst. A thick awkward silence. You and Kurapika like to deal with your problems through discussions so this was quite rare for you two to have an argument. Even if this one was small, you didn’t know how to react or feel. When you gulped or took a breath too long you felt like you were adding to the tension by making too much noise. You go to apologize but Kurapika cuts you off by giving you a small kiss on the forehead. “I know you do. I just... you know it’s my goal to avenge them, you know?”

Wrapping his arms around you, Kurapika pulls you into a hug. The soft scent of cologne on him fills your senses, making you relax.

After a couple of minutes you two pull away and both give each other a small smile.

“We both lost our cool huh?” Kurapika says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah.” You say quietly, “Can you take a small break though? Just for tonight? I’m just concerned you’ll get hurt or sick again.”

Kurapika sighs and thinks for a second. He decides it was ok to take a break for just one night, he nods his head in affirmation. Smiling, you mischievously tackle him onto the coach. Kurapika groans as you land and peck his cheek.

“Ugh you are heavy. Get off” He says; jokingly.

Your mouth falls open in surprise. “Excuse me?!”

Determined to get back at him for the insult you cuddle him closer and attack his face with kisses. Kurapika, his face bright red, tries to move away from your barrage of affection. You let out a giggle as you pull away, you had completely forgotten you had put on a little lipstick so he had many stained kiss marks all over him. Even one smudge on the corner of his lips.

He raises an eyebrow as you use a phone and take a picture of him. Laughing you turn it around, showing him. Letting out a groan he covers his face, embarrassed.

“(Y/n)!” Kurapika whines, “Delete that!”

“No~~” You whine back, leaning yourself onto his chest.

For the next hour, you two enjoyed each other's presence. Laughing with mouths full of popcorn at the cheeky comedy. Creating small talk, well attempting, while chewing on some toffee. Sharing sweet small kisses and loving stares in between the movie scenes. It was a wonderful and perfect night.

Lightly, you groom your fingers through Kurapika’s soft golden locks as he lays asleep on your stomach. You felt relieved that the Kurta male is sleeping and will hopefully no longer be exhausted when he wakes up. Speaking of Kurta, you look at the covered dish in the center of the table. You didn’t reveal the main course of tonight to him. You sigh. Oh well, you can’t do much about it now.

“What’s wrong, habib albi?” Kurapika mumbles into your shirt.

“O-oh I thought you were asleep.” You say, blushing. You were a sucker for Kurapika talking in his native tongue, even though you only understood some of the simple things. It especially made you melt when it came to him calling you pet names or giving you small compliments. He once told you your pet name ‘habib albi’ roughly translated to ‘love of my heart’.

He hums and sits up. “Don’t change the subject.”

You sigh, standing up. Walking over to the coffee table. “Ok but don’t freak out, ok?”

Grabbing a hold of the cover, you lift it up. Revealing a pie underneath.

“(Y-y/n) is that-t?”

“I know you don’t like me looking through your stuff from your village but I remember you mentioning that your mother used to make you your favorite Wild Berry Pie whenever you were stressed. So I thought It counted as an exception.”

You suddenly feel Kurapika pull you into his lap. Looking up you see Kurapika with a small smile along with a couple of stray tears rolling down his face.

“K-kurapika I’m sorry! I didn’t mean for you to be upset.” You reach up and carefully wipe the tears off his face. He soon stops you.

“I’m not. Don’t worry habib albi, I’m not.” He squeezes you closer to him, “I’m actually happy. How did you do it though?”

“Oh! Umm I took one of the old dictionaries you had and looked through the Kurta recipe books until I found the Wild Berry Pie. It’s not exact since we don’t have the same ingredients as the Lukso Province but I got it as close as I could.”

“Ah I see. That sounds very hard to do.” Kurapika says chuckling.

“Yeah it was” You say, leaning over and sighing as you remember the grueling three hours it took to figure out and make. You suddenly sit up, “A-ah do you want me to grab you a slice?”

Kurapika nods his head and you excitedly get up and cut a slice. You had taken so much time in it you wanted it to be perfect. As you lifted it and put it on a plate you sighed, relieved. It had come out perfect. Due to the cover, the pie was still warm and fresh, the right time to eat it at. The crust was a perfect golden color and thankfully not soggy. The wild assortment of berries you added had started to ooze out onto the plate, leaving a nice purple-reddish trail and a pleasant aroma.

You felt proud of your accomplishment and sat back in kurapika’s lap. Now was the ultimate test. Handing him a fork, you watch in grueling anticipation as he takes a bite. Blankly he slowly chews and swallows, causing you to gulp. You messed it up didn’t you? He finally turns and looks at you. Finally, he gives you a wide smile, the first big smile in a while.

“My 'um would be proud.”

You let out a loud ‘yay’ in happiness and kurapika holds you close. You were beyond the moon in happiness that he had said his mom would be proud of your pie. Your pie!

“(Y/n)” You look towards Kurapika’s call to see a fork in front of your face, holding a piece of the pie, “Say ahh~”

You open your mouth and he feeds you the piece. Chewing, you moan at the taste. It was absolutely delicious. Each berry was exploding with a unique flavor. Which ends up creating a sweet blend with the right bit of tartness.

Looking up at Kurapika, you watch as he takes another bite. All the while still smiling. Tonight and every other date were amazing but nothing and you mean nothing was as perfect as seeing this. Kurapika with a wide smile on his face.

You would definitely have to make this pie again.

#hxh #hunter x hunter #scenarios #hxh scenarios #kurapika #kurapika kurta #fluff #hxh fluff #hunter x hunter fluff #hxh kurapika #kurapika x reader

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the-lady-writes-what · 4 years

Text

Preview: Nightclub, Hero Edition

Katsuki Bakugo and Hitoshi Shinsou X Reader fic, plus Neito Monoma being a dick

All Minor characters are aged up. Do not come at if I did not send for you.

---080---

Contents: public sex, voyeurism, threesome, fingering, light hair pulling, praise kink, double penetration

A shiver ran down your spine. Mind Jack couldn’t want anything from you, could he? You thought about all the girls your ex-boyfriend compared you to. You were too prudish, and when you did have sex, you weren’t all that adventurous. You wanted to like sex just like everybody else did. Whether it was you or your partners, you couldn’t tell. You sipped your beer, chiding yourself.

This is a mistake. I should just check out and go home.

You almost turned to find one of your friends when Mind Jack caught your eye again. You glanced up at him to see Mind Jack whispering something to Bakugo. He had his hand cupping his mouth so you couldn’t tell what he was saying. Not that it made a difference at any rate with the club’s pulsing, beating music thrumming in your ears. To your shock, Bakugo turned his red eyes towards you.

You couldn’t help swallowing hard and downed the rest of your drink. You thought it best to sneak away and grab one of your friends before you did something silly and out of character. You tiptoed unto the dance floor, brushing past gyrating, sweating bodies. Two of your friends joined the others dancing and didn’t even hear you calling out to them. A pair of strong hands reached out and touched your waist.

“At least let me talk to you before you start running for the hills.” A voice said next to your ears.

You gulped again. You never heard this voice before but felt its timber shoot pleasure all the way down your spine. You felt the warmth of his body pressing against you.

“Um,” you licked your lips. “I’ve never done this before. I-I don’t really go out to clubs.”

“Relax. I’m not going to bite.” The stranger spun you around to face him.

You faced those indigo eyes up close and personal. This close, you could see the dark shadows beneath his eyes. He was pale beneath the strobe lights.

“Unless you’re into that sort of thing,” he chuckled.

“Are you, are you at least going to give me a name before you try to dance with me?” You stammered.

“Mind Jack, but you can call me Hitoshi.”

“Is it safe for you to give me your real name? Being an underground hero and all?” You asked.

“Let’s just say I’m very comfortable getting to know you. How about you give me your name, or else I’ll start calling you kitty.”

Your face turned beet red, and it wasn’t because of the alcohol you just finished off. Shinsou pulled you close to him so that your bodies pressed together.

“Y-Y/N L/N. I’m Y/N L/N.”

“Well, L/N, can I have this dance?”

“S-Sure,” you answered.

Hitoshi lowered his hands to your hips and looked for permission. You laced your arms on his shoulders and nodded. Throughout the first song, you apologized for not knowing how to dance and stepping on his toes. Hitoshi squeezed your hips, and you couldn’t deny how his hand felt on you. Your lower belly was full of butterflies at this point. You wondered if a single bottle was all it took to make you lose all inhibitions. You were lost in your own thoughts as well as Shinsou’s burning gaze when a voice pulled you out of your reverie.

“Mind if I cut in?”

You knew that voice. It couldn’t be. Could it?

You were spun around landed in the chest of none other than Katsuki Bakugo, Ground Zero himself. Your face turned a brighter shade of red. Your body moved parallel to his as the music pulsed in your ears. Katsuki’s hands wandered to your lower back and hip as he pulled you close. He leaned his head towards your neck. His warm breath ghosted over your skin, giving rise to goosebumps. Your heart fluttered in your chest. Your nails dug into his shoulders as if begging him to stop or continue; you could no longer tell at this point.

Another set of hands pulled you away or tried to. Katsuki’s hold on you was too strong to remove you entirely away from him. Hitoshi appeared behind you. His hand reached behind the back of your neck and turned your face towards his. Katsuki kissed the juncture of where your shoulder met your neck while Hitoshi claimed your lips. You moaned at the dual sensation of two men kissing different parts of you at the same time. Your legs instantly turned into Jell-O. If not for the set of hands holding you up, it would be easy for your legs to give out from beneath you and make you collapse on the floor. Alcohol officially had nothing to do with you making out with one pro-hero while another kissed your neck.

Hitoshi ran his tongue along your bottom lip, silently asking for permission for entrance. Slowly, you opened your mouth to permit him. Hands ran up and down your torso and the top of your thighs. Between them, you were gripped, groped, and caressed in ways at your ex would have never. You became lost in the flavor of Hitoshi when you heard a deriding laugh even above the pounding music.

You didn’t realize that you closed your eyes the moment Hitoshi started kissing you. When you opened them again, standing before you with a sneer on his face was your ex-boyfriend, Neito Monoma. His arms were crossed over his chest as he looked at you stuck between two men.

“It’s been less than what? A week? Couldn’t decide which one, so you decide to be a slut with both of them?” Said Neito.

“Hey, Monoma,” said Hitoshi.

“Wh—”

He stupidly fell right into Hitoshi’s trap. Neito stood there dumbly in the middle of the dance floor with that vacant stare.

“Monoma, stand there and watch us please your former girlfriend better than you could.”

Katsuki chuckled against your skin. “Yeah, ya damn extra. Stand over there with that dumb, shitty look on your face.”

#bakugo #katsuki bakugō #shinsou #shinsou hitoshi #reader fic #my hero academia #my hero academia fanfiction #mha smut #mha fanfiction #Bakugo x reader #Shinsou x reader #Bakugo and Shinsou x Reader #reader smut #aged up characters #minors do not interact #Neito Monoma being a dick #preview

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hotchocolateandablanket · 3 years

Text

Let it snow - chapter 4

As they were walking through the airport, there was only silence between the two. But, for the first time in a while, Romy didn't think it was awkward. With Emily, silence didn't seem to matter, it wasn't awkward anymore, it felt good. It felt okay. Good company makes that happen, Romy said to herself, reassuring her second thoughts. Emily was good company. And Romy felt at ease, even if she still didn't know at least 10 things about her. She was glad to be with her. To not be alone, and to not feel lonely.

Romy didn’t even have time to answer when another announcement made its way through the speakers in the overcrowded airport in Vancouver.

"Passengers from the flight Air Canada 304, your attention please, a specific carousel has been facilitated for you to claim and pick up your registered luggage. We are sorry for the inconveniences, but weather is just one of those things you can't control. Thank you for your understanding."

- We really should get going, I hate it when everyone just stands in front of you while you are waiting for your bags. Emily said, annoyed.

Romy, what are you doing? She thought to herself. She found herself hesitating as they made their way out through all the other disappointed passengers. It seemed like everyone was just flying home for the holidays. And , suddenly, Romy felt as overwhelmed as before. The least thing she wanted was to be alone, because being alone most of the time only leads to feeling lonely, and that's the least thing she wanted. Emily was right there, after all, offering company and, in a way or another, she just seemed like the perfect travel buddy.

Romy didn't know why she was so reluctant to just say yes to everything Emily suggested. She was shy, of course, but this was also the first time she felt this intimidated by someone else. She was scared of what could happen. A lot can happen when you get to be so close to someone and for such a long time. Romy figured the snow storm wouldn't just disappear in a day, so of course they would be stuck in a hotel room for more than expected. Who on earth decides to be the roommate of someone they just met? Sleeping in the same room with a stranger? Showering in the same room with a stranger? She felt vulnerable. But she didn’t hate the idea either. She figured this would make a great story you tell when you are getting wasted with your friends, something like “I got to share a room with a stranger due to a snow storm, how cliché is that?” Didn’t that happen in movies and in movies only? Fanfics , too, but in real life?

- What does your bag look like? Emily asked, forcing Romy to come back into reality and leave her thoughts for a minute.

- Oh, uh… it’s black…

- You mean like literally all the bags out there?. We need something more specific, no?

- The wheels are pink?

- What now? That 's new ha ha.

- My mum painted them for me, and it's turned out perfectly useful as you'll see. Romy said, playfully. “It just stands out , ok?”

- I bet it does… Emily said, giggling.

- What does your bag look like then? Romy said, ready to make fun of hers too.

- Oh, I just have this. Emily said, pointing at her back, where she carried her one and only Herschel backpack.

- You travel light , huh?

- Something like that ha ha.

Romy figured that going for their luggage together meant agreeing to Emily’s suggestion of rooming together. And Emily just took that as a yes.

As they waited for their luggage, Romy figured it would be a good time to get to know Emily a little better. She knew that the sooner she knew a little more about her, her overthinking would ease a little. No one wants to share a room with someone you don't even know 10 things about.

- So… Listen, this may be silly to you, but I know nothing about you and we are about to share a room for god knows how many days, nights and you are still a stranger to me and …

- I thought we were past the strangers phase ha ha - Emily said, interrupting Romy

- Uh…

- Okay fine, let´s do something. Have you ever played this game called 20 questions? Emily, said, excited.

- No?

- So we ask questions to each other, but the rule is that you can’t ask the same question twice. For instance, if you ask me what my favourite colour is, I won’t be able to ask you back the same question.

- Are follow up questions allowed?

- Yes! Ready? I'll start.

- Of course you are, Romy said, resigned but with a smile on her face.

- What is your biggest fear?

- Wow, we are starting off strong… Uh.. I wouldn't know. I would say death, but I’m also very scared of heights.

- Okay, good, now you ask me! Emily said.

- Hmmmm, if you were granted three wishes, what would you wish for? Romy asked.

- That’s a good one! So first of all, I would ask for snow storms to stop existing! Hmmm, I would love to be a millionaire as well and lastly I would love to have the ability to read minds!

Romy didn't have time to say anything back when Emily was already asking the next question.

- I’ll go easy on you this time ha ha. Favourite movie?

- I have two! Grave of the Fireflies and Avril et le monde truqué ! Romy said, with a smile on her face.

- Oh la la, that french accent! I could listen to it all day ha ha. Your turn.

- Favourite food?

- Just for the record, comfort food and favourite food are different things, so, my all time favourite food are tacos and pizza, but not just any tacos, authentic mexican tacos which are rare to come across if not in Mexico but well anyway, and not just any pizza, but Chicago style pizza. Now, my comfort food is definitely a bowl of cereal with a grilled cheese sandwich. Oh and just not any cereal , it has to be Honey cheerios cereal. Yep, there you go.

She could talk. And Romy found it fascinating. Emily seemed to be one of those people who never run out of topics. One of those people who never let the conversation die.

- Tell me about your family. Romy said, thinking it was only fair to know.

Hadn't it been for Romy’s clumsy incident, she wouldn't really have asked her that, she found it a little intrusive, even if Emily started off strong, but at this point Emily did not only get to see family pictures, she also knew her brother had died, so yeah, she thought it was only fair to ask. Time to even the scales.

- That is not a question, it’s an order ha ha. Emily said, nodding her head and looking away, in giggles.

- Fine. Tell me about your family?

- Hahaha you’re smart, I’ll give you that. Well, there is not much to say really … She stopped abruptly. “Look,your bag! You are so right! It really does stand out ha ha”.

Romy found it rather easy to get ahold of her bag. The carousel had just started to put on display all the luggage, and hers happened to be the very first one. She was too tired at this point, and carrying her 22kg bag plus her handbag plus her backpack didn't make things easier.

- We should get going and head to the hotel, we don't want to now get stuck in an airport, huh? Emily said.

- Let’s!

- Do you need help with any of that? Emily asked. You know what haha, just give me that, I’ll help.

- Thanks. Romy said. So, we have a question pending, don't we?

- Do we? Questions do expire after a while, so you may want to ask another one. I lost my train of thought I am afraid.

Emily said, smiling, but with a look in her eyes that one could describe as sad.

Romy didn't want to push, so she decided to give in and just let it go. “Fine, maybe we can call it a day with this game. It's actually pretty exhausting. It's not that I carry with myself a list of questions to ask to someone”

- Oh my god, you don't? First the pink wheels and now this? Who doesn't have an already prepared list of questions? Emily said, in an ironic friendly way, mocking Romy and giving her a pat on her back with her elbow.

#let it snow #romy x emily #wlw #lesbian #bisexual #christmas story #cheesy #fanfic #romily #lgbt writing #writeblr #LGBT STORY #give it a shot

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eerythingisshaka · 4 years

Text

Wish Granted

Word Count: 6K

Yahya Abdul-Mateen II x Reader

Warnings: Smut

Standing by the fountain, you feel a chill catch the inside of your coat. You tug it closer around you and flip the penny in your hand from heads to tails. A 2003 penny with Lincoln on the front, his memorial on the back. No different, always the same. Under your arm is a box with a new scarf and glove set for the man you thought you would marry one day. Before you could even get to dinner, he meets you at your hotel to say that things aren’t going the way he hoped and that you should call it quits before things got too serious. Like four years of commitment wasn’t serious enough.

You hold the penny up, allowing the fountains sound drowns out the surrounding world as you close your eyes and launch that coin into the fountain.

“Ow!”

You open your eyes to see a man standing in front of you, hand over his eye.

You cover you mouth, mortified. “Oh! Oh no, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”

Without thinking you run up to the stranger, reaching for his hand to observe the injury you inflicted. When he moves his hand, he blinks a couple times looking around to make sure he had vision. You take a step back, looking him over. Brown trench coat, snakeskin loafers, hair trimmed with that old school part in the fro. Epitome of tall dark and handsome if you had to categorize him. And now you’re about to add an eye patch to his wardrobe.

“I swear I wasn’t begging for change walking through here. Not today.” He rubs his eye again, looking at you with his good one.

“I wasn’t thinking. Why would I throw something with my eyes closed in a public area, honestly.”

He looks behind him. “You wanted to make a wish?”

You look down at your feet in embarrassment, “Kind of, yeah. It’s silly but-”

His smile stops your train of thought, lighting up your mind’s electricity with its beauty. Like a hand of dominoes, those teeth are hiding a hand that will have you laid out on a table in a minute.

“That ain’t silly, that’s what everyone around here is doing, including me. Did you drop that too?”

He points near you to the box by your feet, swiftly picking it up before you could say anything.

“Leaving a gift for the fountain too?” He quips, handing it over to you.

You roll your eyes, “No, but I don’t really wanna get into it right now, if that’s cool.”

His face drops as he nods, putting his hands in his coat pockets humbly. You instantly feel bad, especially for making that smile go away.

“I don’t mean it like-”

“No, it’s cool. I get it. We don’t know each other like that so…”

“Well, I mean...sorry, what’s your name?”

“Yahya.” He holds out his hand, face warming up again. You take it, giving him a genuine smile along with your name.

“Well Yahya, before I almost took out your eye, what was your wish to the fountain?”

He squints at you suspiciously in a way that sparks your inner challenger as his walls begin to metaphorically build.

“If I told you, wouldn’t that make it not come true?”

You mull it over in your head. “I mean, that’s for birthday wishes, not fountain wishes.”

Yahya chuckles, throwing his head back. “I like that logic, but I gotta plead the fifth.”

You tut at him. “Oh come on! I embarrassed myself just now, why can’t you?”

“Oh this all about you, to make you feel better?” Yahya asks playfully.

You love this back and forth, nodding to keep the game going whether he gives in or not.

Yahya looks at you a second before sighing deeply and looking around for anyone nearby who might eavesdrop. Every move he makes looks so damn cool, you feel anxious the more time passes between you two.

“Aight, but if I tell you, you owe me a drink.” He says with a smolder behind his gaze down at you.

“And why’s that?” You ask, clutching your chest.

On cue, Yahya holds his eyes bending over. “Oh God, my eyesight. How can I see people’s bullshit now?”

You whack his back to make him stop, the cadence of his laughter pops in the night air.

“Ok, drinks on me, cool?”

Promptly dropping his act with a deviant smile he says, “Cool. Let’s get them first.” He holds his arm out to you expectantly. You swap your box from one arm to the other before taking his and setting off to a nearby lounge. He opens the door for you and you find two stools at the far end of the bar.

You take a seat, setting your box on the bar as Yahya unbuttons his coat, flicking the sides behind him. You notice how his pants accentuate the length of his legs, as well as the fitted nature right around his upper thighs. You smile to yourself, thanking God for his blessing to man.

He orders a whiskey neat, you get a gin and tonic. By the time the drinks arrive and you warm up from first sip, your senses begin to loosen.

“Ok, you got a drink, now tell me about your wish.”

Yahya puts on a look of shock before placing the glass to his eye. You push him playfully.

“That doesn’t even make sense, you got it without ice!”

He shakes his head. “Just hating. Ok, um. I got one more request before I say this, cuz I don’t wanna have you running away from me when I say this.”

You sit up a little straighter at his words. “O...k.”

He licks his lips turning a little more in your direction. “After I tell you my wish, you gotta tell me what’s in that box. I can tell it’s not for you.”

“How?!”

He pulls it across the bar towards him. “It’s got a ribbon on it that is wrapped around the box, so it hasn’t been opened. You’re dressed nice but standing alone at a fountain at night making a wish and going to a bar with someone you just met, makes me think you had a rough night.”

Your heart drops at this lowkey reading that hit the nail on the head.

“...plus the tag says ‘To: James’.”

You pull the box back and pull your drink to your lips silently. Yahya feels your change of heart and switches gears.

“I didn’t mean to say that offensively, I was just answering your question. I get a little too blunt out the blue sometimes, I been told.”

You look at him and see his apologetic eyes, looking like a little boy being sweet to come out of time out. You reassess, turning back on the cool mode. Remember, he’s not your man.

“You...got the story without even having to ask me a question. So now you owe me. You tell me your wish and why you are wandering the fountain at night,” You say with a little bite in your voice. Since he so smart...

Yahya finishes his drink and raises his hand to order another. “On the rocks this time.” He turns to look at you, making time slow down while looking into your eyes like he is searching for something steady to anchor to. You hope he sees it because you already see it in him, crazy as that sounds.

He digs in his pocket to pull out a flat square grey box, setting it on the bar and pushing it towards you.

“I have a gift to that didn’t quite make it to the receiver.”

You take the box hesitantly, opening it to find a simple sterling silver chain.

“What happened? Why didn’t she take it?” You ask. “It is a little simple, but I mean, not break up worthy.”

“I don’t think it was her style in the end, but also,” He pulls the necklace out, bringing the backing with it to reveal a ring looped around it. You gasp, taken back it’s beauty.

“Oh wow, you were planning to propose?!”

Yahya nods, smiling solemnly. “I thought I had found what I was looking for in her, but she hadn’t found what she wanted in me. Luckily she hadn’t pulled the necklace out when she broke it down for me.”

“Wow.” You say, looking over the necklace and ring combo as you sip your drink, not knowing what else to say.

Yahya rests his chin on his hand, looking over the ring. “It’s not easy to find someone you connect with and see a future. That’s all I been wanting since I got grown. People date for a quick thing but I wanted more. I really thought we were headed there.”

“That’s how it was for me. I came here to meet with my boy- well now my ex boyfriend. We planned this trip months ago and the day comes that I thought for sure would be the next step in our relationship and he just stops me before we make it to dinner.”

“Did you all have reservations?” He asks.

You nod. “Yeah, now in 15 minutes actually, a block from here.”

Yahya checks the time and picks up your box. “All this heartache is making me hungry, and my mama didn’t raise me to let a woman drink on an empty stomach, so let’s go.”

He buttons his coat, digs out a couple bills from his wallet and lays them on the bar before holding out his trusted arm again. You take it again happily.

At the restaurant you both order drinks and appetizers to share, laughing and chatting about of all things, your broken relationships.

“You know I waited on him for a month to come back on business trip before this? I just KNEW I was gonna get dicked down at the least. Excuse my language but he couldn’t bother with me to even giving me break up sex!” You say, a little too loudly for the stuffy restaurant you all were enjoying.

Yahya laughs so hard his eyes close up, wheezing at the crudeness of your talking. “I swear, where have all the gentlemen gone right?”

“RIGHT!” you concur. “Don’t do that to your lady, ok?”

Yahya bites off a shrimp and tosses the tail. “I don’t have a lady, remember?”

“Oh yeah. Well for your future lady. Always do her right. No matter if you happy or mad.”

Yahya looks over at you, eyes heavy from the liquor consumed, he holds his hand out across the table. You look at him snickering.

“Oh sweetie, you got something to say?” You ask teasingly.

Yahya scratches his beard, squeezing your fingers gently. “Nothing but I never told you my wish.”

You brush him off. “Oh you don’t have to, it’s not important anymore.”

“It is though because this night has turned from tragic to amazing in the span of just a couple hours with you. I had went to that fountain torn up and wished that I would find a wife.”

You sit there quietly, thinking about that box with the necklace and ring. You take your hand away from his.

“I don’t mean that means anything to you. We’re just friends obviously. If that!” Yahya says with a cool laugh, looking at the rim of his glass as he twirls his finger around it. You knew he wasn’t trying to sound crazy like you’re the answer to his wish but you grabbed you coat anyway.

“Follow me.”

You get your box and put on your coat hurriedly. You both walk through the tables, heading for the entrance.

“You paid right?” You ask, opening your gift box and taking out its contents.

Yahya nods. “Yeah, what’s going on?”

Taking out the scarf, you wrap it around his neck. “This looks pretty good on you, matches your coat and everything.” You hand him the gloves to put on. “I say let’s try and make your wish come true, huh?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, let’s live in the moment! No strings, talk to me like a loving husband, I’ll treat you like a wife. See if it even makes sense. You might not even care to have a ball and chain around your neck all the time. Who knows!” You’re oddly chill about asking for this odd request but Yahya’s face isn’t reading as all for it. You start to push the door open when Yahya pulls you back.

“Hang on.” He reaches in his pocket and pulls out the square box, undoing the necklace and holds it out to you.

“Take the ring off first.” You say cautiously.

He shakes his head. “Aren’t you my wife for the night? This is yours. Turn around.”

You obey as your cool begins to melt away, letting him put it around your neck, clasping it gently and finishing with a soft squeeze of your shoulders.

“Wifey, let’s take a stroll.” Yahya offers, leading you out into the street..

“My dear, dinner was marvelous tonight.” Yahya speaks in an uppity manner.

“Why yes, my compliments to the chef, indeed. I do apologize for not having cooked. I so know you were looking forward to it.”

“My dear wife there is no need to fret, you should at least have one day off. That’s what a gentleman would expect.”

You chortle haughtily. “My dear, you are too grand. I say we shall put the beds together tonight for some whoopie!”

Yahya laughs out of character. “What decade are we in?”

You think a second. “Well let’s say 70s and not differentiate from 1970 or 1870. Sounds good?”

Yahya gives you a thumbs up. “Works for me.”

As you walk along, you recognize the street you’re both on. “Oh, there is my hotel. We walked right up on it. Nice!”

Yahya smiles down at you. “Your methods are clandestine.”

You feign shock. “Wha? I hadn’t led us towards here subconsciously at all! But since we are here, I really don’t wanna keep our schtick short. You wanna come up? Oh! We can play house!” You say excitedly.

Yahya shrugs, opening the hotel doors ahead of the doorman. “After you milady.”

Your shoes click clack across the floor as you make your way to the elevator. With a ding, the doors open and let you in. As the door closes, Yahya takes your hand and jerks you toward him, spinning you around to the wall nearest to him and pinning you against it.

You hold your breath looking up at him, watching his hand move towards your neck, reaching around to pull the ring out from your coat collar.

“This suits you, you know. I just had to see it up close on you one more time.” His fingers run across the chain and collarbone to your neck, making you ticklish.

“You know there’s cameras in here.” You breathily warn, contradicting your worry when you place your hand to his back, bringing him closer to you.

He traces the outline of your face, turning your into putty even more once his lips graze yours. Barely registering as a kiss, you close your eyes anyhow, enjoying the warmth of him near you until you reach for his face and demand more. Soon, the doors of the elevator ding open and Yahya let’s you go, shielding your body in the corner with his to appear as casual as possible while the new passengers stepped on.

“You guys aren’t coming out?” An elderly white man asks.

Yahya looks back. “Oh sorry. We left something in the room so we have to make a second trip. What floor are we?” He whispers to you.

“11th.” You say as he pressed the button. He stands in front of you with his back to you as the man stepped on, pressing 8.

“Geez I hate when that happens. Gotta take those extra steps, feels like such a waste of time.” The man says.

You play with Yahya, poking his booty cheek, which he flexes once he notices your touch, looking back at you with a cross eyed look.

“Oh yeah. It can be real annoying. Blame this one.” Yahya points his thumb back at you.

The man appears to have just noticed you. “Oh buddy, don’t blame your girl. That will turn your night sour in a jif!” The elevator dings to open to his floor. “You kids have a good night. Sweetie, give him hell!” THrowing a thumbs up, he leaves you both in the elevator once again.

Yahya turns to face you, “Is this how married folk act in elevators?”

You smile and shrug, pulling at the scarf around his neck. ”Any marriage I’m in, it better be.”

The elevator dings once more and you lead him to Room 1142, rooting through your wristlet to find the card, growing distracted by the hug from behind that Yahya pulls you into, nuzzling your shoulder.

“Stop! I am gonna drop all my shit if you don’t quit.” You whine.

“All of it?” Yahya growls in your as he pushes up on you, letting you know what was definitely up with him.

You find the card and insert it to unlock the door, stumbling half drunk, half horny inside. Yahya closes the door and exclaims suddenly, “Look at this dessert, right here!”

Some chocolate covered strawberries placed neatly on a silver platter sits on a table with champagne chilling in a bucket.

You take off your coat, groaning in frustration. “Goddammit. I ordered this before James came up and obviously it didn’t get eaten. I hope the champagne ain’t burned.” You pick the bottle up from the half melted ice, checking the label.

Yahya takes off his coat, putting it across a nearby desk. “How would it burn?”

You unwrap the foil and start to twist the cork. “You know like freezer burn. Chill it too long and it can burn like steak left in the freezer too long.” With one twist the cork pops across the room, and an overflow of foam spills over your hands. Yahya takes the bottle, letting the alcohol spill across the strawberries and table before tipping the bottle to his mouth.

You watch his adam’s apple bob as champagne makes drips on his shirt. The muscles in his arms on full display as he tips the bottle back down, screwing his face up from the taste.

“That ain’t bad.” He puts a fist to his mouth, letting out a decent burp while holding the bottle to you.

You cackle taking the bottle for yourself as he takes a seat at the table with strawberries.

“You really went all out for tonight huh?” Yahya asks, looking around the room.

You twist the neck of the bottle, holding it to your chest nervously. “I tried. If I am committed, I can’t hide that. And I just want someone to see me at least halfway on my level, you know?” You take a swig from the bottle, letting the liquid do its thing to your bloodstream.

Yahya sits there with his hands on his thighs, spread wide in a way that is least annoying. It showcases his height, confidence, and body structure that you’re sure he takes pride in.

“No reason you can’t have that.” Yahya says quietly.

You stand beside him, laying a hand on his shoulder. “You could too. Hell, you had a complete ring here.” You pull on it for emphasis.

Yahya shrugs, giving a soft sad smile. “I don’t wanna think about what I could have. I wanna focus on what I got now.”

You feel the width of his palm wrap around your hip, looking up at you in need. You put the bottle down and hold his face in your hands. His hands massage your back, willing you to give in. But something holds you back.

“Let me sit real quick.” You plant yourself on his lap, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, distracting yourself with the berries.

“What’s wrong?” Yahya asks. “Your energy feel different.”

You take a strawberry in for a bite, savoring the sweet chocolate with the refreshing juice of the strawberry.

“It’s been a long night. This has been cute and fun, definitely better than how it started. But I can’t stop thinking about why am I doing this. For what? Like this doesn’t mean a damn thing. Nothing really does.”

Yahya gently squeezes your hip with a slight frown on his face. “I think it’s better to think about how you popped some dude in the eye, made him feel better by being funny, gorgeous and your heart is so innocent and open, I thought I would fuck this up quickly.”

You laugh. “You did almost.”

“I know, I talked too much at the bar-”

“No it was when you insisted I buy you a drink.” You retort.

“And I’m still waiting on it. I paid remember!” Yahya says with a little neck roll for emphasis that makes you smile bigger.

You reach for the bottle on the table and shake it. “You wasted most of this on the strawberries, here.”

“You don’t want more?” Yahya asks as you tip the bottle to his lips.

“No, go head.” You pour what’s left in his mouth and set the bottle down. He points to his mouth, holding the liquor in his mouth.

“What?” You ask before his hands grab either side of your face and pull you into him. Your body lights up having his lips on you again and you offer to raise the stakes quickly. Opening your mouth, he opens his allowing you to taste the final drink of the night. The bubbles dance around your mouth as the liquid begins to spill out a little, soaking your mouths equally. His hand navigates your thighs, playing around the hem of your dress to ease it further up. You push his hand back, breaking away from him to stand and lean against the table.

“Are you always like this or are we just getting too drunk?” You giggle nervously, squeezing your thighs together.

Yahya sits back, wiping his hand over his mouth slowly as he stares you down. “My head is clear, ok? I always liked the tradition of what’s mine is yours, and yours is mine. Two people, becoming one union.” His index fingers meet each others tip to point up at you.

You’re both breathing erratically, staring at each other daring who will pull the next move. You reach for the bottom of your dress, hiking it up slowly past your thighs exposing your lower half. Yahya’s eyes shoot to your undergarments letting out a low whistle, standing up in front of you, reaching under your dress to grip your behind.

“Is this what you want too?” Yahya asks as you feel his fingers slipping the waist of your panties slowly down.

You breathe out hard, locking eyes, your arousal reaches a peak where you forget how to speak.

“Y-yes.” You squeak out, lifting your hips so he can pull them completely down. He kneels in front of you, pulling one foot and the other out of your shoes then goes to look up at you.

“Your legs are fucking sexy, you know that?” he says as you feel him trace your marks and kisses the front of them.

You snort, wiggling a finger to signal him to stand up. “I thought the same of you when you finally got that coat off, with your long ass. Take something else off.”

His smile shines as he pulls his shirt out his pants and pulling it over his head. Your hands can’t stop from touching his physique, mentally counting every muscle lacquered in the finest deep tone melanin you seen in real life.

“You can’t be real,” you gasp as he unbuttons his pants. You quickly begin to take off your dress, thanking God you didn’t go with a bra today.

When he unzips his pants he stops you. “Slow down, don’t rush. I wanna take my time with it. Lay back a second.”

You do as you’re told, sitting on the edge of the table instinctively spreading your thighs apart. Yayha strokes his chin, licking his lips as he kneels before you, propping your legs further apart you feel yourself swell with desire, biting your lip in anticipation.

Yahya holds one leg up as his other hand traces yours lips. He looked like someone constructing a finger painting, eyes concentrated as his digits worked circles around your sensitive area. Your legs twitch every so often when he moves to slow, coaxing his telepathically to go lower or higher. Once he does, your back bends demonically, exorcising your cares as you moan with delight. You fall back into the table, squishing the fruit laid under your without. But nothing compared to his mouth fully consuming you. Your legs buckle around his ears as he suckles upon your throbbing clit, you feel yourself approaching the edge, cursing yourself for cumming too soon. You make the mistake of looking down to see his wide tongue gently stroke you. Your legs flies up too fast, knocking the champagne off the table.

“Oh shit! Fuck!” You curse, feeling slightly lightheaded.

Yahya goes to grab it but you pull him back forcing him to stand. Pulling him hard into you, you kiss sloppily, leaving no drop behind as you taste yourself, your drinks, your night all at once.

Yahya pulls back, bring you close to him before pushing you over face first onto the table.

“You cussin more about the bottle than me.” Yahya says as he pulls his draws down, holding your hips still and pushing your ankles apart.

You feel yourself crushing the strawberries under your but could not give a single fuck about it.

“I didn’t wanna make a mess, is all.”

He sucks his teeth as you feel his tip rub against your vulva. “Shit. That’s all I wanna do now. Which one should it be? Clean? Or dirty?”

Before you can answer, you feel his breath on your neck as he plants wet kisses, sliding his tongue down your back. You hear him making it sloppy and it threatens you to flip the table.

“Dammit, give it to me, baby please.” You look back at him with your head in the table watching him smile as he plants on hand one your lower back and pushes in gently.

You fingers almost rips a hole in the tablecloth as you tense up under his girth.

“Be easy. You can do this, I got you.” He says with a raspy voice, pushing further and deeper into you, wrapping his arms around to grip your breasts as you prop yourself on your elbows for support.

“Ohh shit.” You exclaim, feeling yourself stretch in a way the felt completely new. Your walls squeezed tightly, not wanting to let go of this new visitor.

Yahya exhaled sharply as he pulled back, letting you feel your lungs expand again until his next stroke came down on you. He keeps the pace slow, whispering in your ear.

“You like me inside you?” He asks. You nod.

“Tell me it feel good.” Yahya says. You grunt, biting your lip as you try to concentrate on your next nut.

His hand grabs your hair at the nape of your neck. “What was that?”

You gasp delightfully, taking the pain with pleasure. “It’s so good, baby.”

“You showing me it’s good. Keeping wettin me down like I like.” Yahya laughs, curing under his breath as he digs into you deeper, pulling out less. Your ass bounces against his hips instinctively asking for more.

“I wanna hear you too, baby. This mine and it’s yours.” You snarl, bouncing back on him until you body deceives you. The pace gets too good before you begin to curl into yourself, letting your orgasm take over.

“I can help you with that.” He grunts, lifting one leg up on the table, hitting you at a new angle he pounds into you, repeating how good your pussy is, demanding you cum on him right there.

You body twists under him, reaching back for him to ease up, typical fight or flight despite how good it feels. He pins your wayward arm behind your back.

His strokes slow down but dig deeper. The feel of his big tongue licking up your spine makes you squeal and twist under his advantage.

“Shit you making me cum aAGAIN,” you breathe hard.

He licks his lips, kissing each spot along his trail, letting your arms go to envelope your hands with his on the table.

“These berries taste better on you,” he moans in your ear.

“I love your tongue all over me. I’d marry that fucking tongue of yours. Fucking...shit!”

“Oh shit, oh shit.” Yahya barks as his body tenses up as he begins to pull away, face completely without chill until he pulls out of you, jacking himself furiously onto your ass. You feel the shoots of cum hit your behind, like confetti after a race. Your come down is filled with accomplishment as you hear him moan until he has emptied himself completely, smacking your thigh for emphasis.

“That’s what I call a wish came true.” He says proudly. Turning you over to kiss you deeply. Although you’re both exhausted yourselves, his kisses get better with each one. Tongue less timid, mouth more open, lips sucked dry.

You sit up, feeling like you just touched down from being in the clouds. Yahya pulls you into him, looking you over, checking the necklace around your neck again.

“I know what you’re thinking, but I don’t wanna go yet.” He says.

You sigh deeply putting your face in his chest. “I won’t ask you to stay.”

“I wish you would.” Yahya says seriously. “I won’t if you don’t want me too, but I don’t feel right being here without you saying you want me here.”

You look over his face for sincerity. If only that was a superpower, because he looks the same as you seen all day.

You reach for his hands walking him towards your bed as you sit down on it in front of him.

“Come on and stay. I ain’t got this king size for nothing.”

Yahya climbs over you in his stark nakedness to get to the other side and under the blanket. You find this hilarious, snuggling under the blankets with him, letting the plush warmth envelope you both. He pulls you closer as y’all lay face to face in the dark.

“Did you want to sleep with me when you saw me?” You ask.

Yahya takes a beat before answering. “Hell yes.”

You smack his face softly. He still screams ow.

“What am I supposed to say!”

“Something more gentlemanly.”

“Like you ain’t wanted to sleep with me? I saw your eyes on me at the bar. Felt like a piece of meat.”

“That’s what you are. An A1, Grade A, lean cut 80/20 muthafucka.” You say with some funk in your voice.

“Wooow, I’m a whole butcher shop to you.” He says with feigned hurt, feeling your face. You hands go from warming between your thighs to reaching out for his, running your hand up and down. You run the back of your hand across his stomach, feeling his breath inhale and exhale.

Without a word he takes the back of your neck, pushing your face into his with renewed vigor. Your hand reaches his dick, firmly stroking his shaft as he grows under your touch. You crawl over him, pushing him on his back so you can straddle him while he bear hugs you on top of him, sucking your neck. You nibble his ear as you continue to stroke him off, teasing yourself with his tip.

“If this is my favorite thing about you, could you blame me?” You moan in his ear.

“My favorite thing is what you do with your favorite thing.” He says before his eyes roll back once you finally sit yourself properly on top of him.

You feel your eyes open and the room is completely bright with light. You pull the covers over your head with displeasure, attempting to get a few more winks until you realize where you are and what you did. Your eyes shoot open, looking down at your naked frame. Now you really don’t dare stick your head out of the blanket for fear of seeing him or being in this room by yourself. You see the necklace still hanging off of you, he wouldn’t leave that behind right? You take it off and stare at it again. Did you really convince someone to be your husband for a night? And he was crazy enough to say yes? Your head pounds from last night’s activities, forcing you to sit up at least. You look over and find the bed empty beside you. You groan and cover your face. Duh! Why wouldn't he toot and boot. You look around the room at remnants from last night. Bottle on the floor, crushed strawberries, dress and panties in the middle of the floor. Nope, that wasn’t a dream after all. You scoot off the bed and head for the bathroom door to freshen up. When you open the door, you see him standing there, dick in hand, standing at the toilet.

“You’re up?”

You let out a scream as you suddenly feel your nakedness. Yahya jumps with fright as you run back to the bed and burrow under the covers.

“What’s wrong with you?” You hear his voice growing closer.

“Are you dressed?” you mewl from under the covers. This generates a chuckle from Yahya. You feel weight on the side of the bed and you peek to see the man framed by the golden rays of the sun sitting up in his underwear looking at you with amusement.

“I didn’t wanna wake you, my alarm woke me up.”

“What were you doing in the bathroom?” you ask.

“....peeing?” He says cautiously.

“No! I mean, why are you still here? How?”

Yahya folds his arms in thought. “I was hoping we could get breakfast or something. See what you look like in the daylight.” He pulls at the blanket around your head but you hold it tight.

“I’m not decent,” you whisper.

Yahya laughs. “I think you’re pretty decent. I’m not erasing last night, I hope you aren’t.”

You feel for the nightstand and reach to give him the necklace back. He takes it while holding on to your hand. You feel something familiar surge from his touch.

“My energy hasn’t changed from last night. I wanna know you as a woman, understand? I’m not worried about how we met.”

You take your hand away and sit up, pulling the blanket over your chest. “Less than 24 hours ago and we fucked. I really don’t do that.”

“I don’t either! If we both were truthful, we got out of committed relationships and found something familiar with each other. I’m not gonna let that slip by, that’s connection.”

You hug yourself, looking around at remnants of yesterday around the room until you met eyes with the main memory sitting beside you.

“Breakfast. But we gotta slow down, ok? It just makes things blurred and messy.”

He places a hand over his heart and one in the air. “Promise! I’ll get dressed, and you should have some hot water for the shower still.”

You barely hear as you watch those shapely legs stroll across the floor carrying that fine ass you can fully appreciate from his tight underwear. He picks up his pants, shaking them out.

“Oh, wait. Come here.”

Yahya looks at you, walking back with his pants in his hands to your side of the bed.

“You got something right here…” You paw at one side of your face, watching him mirror you until you wave him to come closer. He leans down for you to have his face but instead you hold him, kissing him gently.

You pull back,gripping his chin. “I would like to see you in the daylight too.”

Part 2

#yahya abdul mateen ii fic #shakafic

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missaudreyhorney · 4 years

Text

(Almost) Every Idea Ever

Although I rarely ever finish writing a fic, that never stops me from getting new ideas for them. Terrible, horrible, dumpster fire ideas. Okay, some of them are wholesome on occasion, but mostly it’s just filth. I've excluded a couple of things because either they were just too awful to mention or I’m currently working on them and I want it to be a surprise.

The first story I started to write this year was original fiction but with the main male character heavily inspired by Jim Hopper. It was about a recently married young woman having an affair with her father-in-law. This really set a precedent for the rest of my ideas and should indicate to you the level of depravity on this list.

Hopper x Reader:

Hurts So Good series - In 1982, Reader is Mayor Kline’s daughter and has a crush on Chief Hopper. She decides to pursue him and things don’t go quite as planned but they still end up having steamy, rough sex. A secret affair begins between the two of them but it eventually leads to heartbreak. Heavy emphasis on Dom/sub and pain kink. - Initial pursuit, fingering in the car, sex (60%) - Phone sex the following day (70%) - Rough sex, bordering on consensual nonconsent (partially written) - Introduction to Daddy kink (notes) - Body worship (notes) - Bruise kink (notes) - Facesitting (50%) - hurt/comfort throatfucking, an argument, angst/fluff (75%) - Orgasm denial/control (70%) - Possible gunplay? (Unwritten) - Disciplinary spanking (notes)

Dress You Up series - In 1985, Hopper meets plus-size!Reader at JCPenney when he comes in to pick out a shirt for his date. After Joyce stands him up, he decides to come back and ask Reader out instead. Probably the cutest idea I’ve ever had for smut. Inspired by flamehairedwritings and flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash. - 1st meeting, 2nd meeting, date, sex (50%) - 2nd date, a continuation of My First Drabble (partially written) - Meeting El and she’s standoffish (notes)

Domestic Smut - Reader and husband!Hopper are at the cabin alone together one weekend. After breakfast, she tries to wash the dishes but the sink is broken, the water squirting everywhere. A water fight turns into a tickle fight which turns into kitchen table sex. (50%)

Hopper blindfolding Reader during sex at the cabin (Notes)

Hopper blindfolding Reader during a blowjob in his office at the police station (Minimal notes)

Hopper rubbing a popsicle on Reader’s body then licking it off (Minimal notes)

Hopper coming over to Reader’s house, unannounced, late at night, in the rain, for a quick rough fuck. Inspired by one of the pictures from the Playboy shoot. (Partially written)

Licking Hopper’s hand and arm veins to get his attention while he reads the Sunday newspaper. (Unwritten)

Sucking Hopper’s cock while he smokes a cigar on the porch and either ignores you or looks at you with disdain. Inspired by a compilation video of David smoking a cigar on Instagram Live. (Unwritten)

Consensual nonconsent fantasy where Hopper touches Reader and tells her to say no to him while he’s making her cum. Rough, forceful sex immediately follows. (Partially written)

Bootlicker - anti-cop Reader has a secret fetish for cops and Hopper is more than happy to oblige them and keep quiet about it. (Notes)

Working out my own personal issues via smut, bigender-questioning AFAB Reader puts on Hopper’s uniform shirt and hat. Much to their delight, he says they look like a boy. He also says “If you’re going to dress like a boy, I’m going to fuck you like one.” Basically just incredible anal sex while Hopper calls Reader a good boy. Extremely niche subject but the fantasy of this is so affirming to me, I can’t not think about it. (Notes)

Hopper x Reader requests

A sequel to Little Magnum where the dog is a few years older. There is maybe also a cat? (Unwritten)

Fire & Ice - Reader is playing in the snow when it’s getting dark outside. Hopper tells them to come in but they don’t listen. Reader falls and hurts their ankle then Hopper gets angry at their disobedience. Not because he’s a jerk, but because he can’t imagine his life without Reader and doesn’t want to lose them. Angsty hurt/comfort. (~70%)

Replacement idea since Fire & Ice was much too angsty - Reader gets stung by a bee and Hopper freaks out. Reader is fine but he babies them nonetheless, because again, his greatest fear is losing them. Very cute and silly. (unwritten)

Freezeframe - Reader bought Hopper a Polaroid camera for his birthday and he hasn’t used it months later. Taking matters into her own hands, she uses the camera for some naughty selfies. Once Hopper finds the pictures, he decides to assume the role of photographer and gets some very intimate shots of Reader. (80-85%)

Morning Wood - Reader lets themself into the cabin early one Summer morning and sees Hopper in bed, fully nude, just a sheet covering the part they want to see most. Hop wakes up, invites Reader into bed with him, and a blowjob ensues. Very detailed description of his body. (Notes)

Hopper gets injured and needs Reader to patch him up. She gets pissed though for him being in yet another dangerous situation where he yet again gets hurt. Reader reprimanding him leads to confessions of feelings which leads to sex. (Unwritten)

Reader has been feeling ignored by Hopper lately and decides to make him jealous to get his attention. She flirts with another man at a bar while Hopper watches and seethes with rage. He punishes her by dragging her into the parking lot then spanking over the tailgate of his Chevy Blazer. Rough sex and more spanking goes down back at the cabin. Based on my jealous!Hopper headcanon post. (Partially written)

Principal Hopper - One of the worst ideas I’ve ever had, which is saying A LOT. High school principal Hopper catches one of his 18-year-old female students spying on him between classes and confronts her about it. Sexual tension bubbles up until neither of them can control themselves. Based on a fantasy told to me by a friend who I will not name. (Notes)

Hopper x Reader AUs

Messing Around With Jim series - A continuation of The Big Game, Afterschool Special, and Third Time’s A Charm. Modern!Hopper and Reader having all kinds of sex. - Fingering, gentle sex, tender orgasm control (50%) - Period sex, vibrator (Notes) - First blowjob, a continuation of A Sampling (partially written) - Hop eating Reader’s pussy for his birthday (minimal notes) - Fingering in the car, truck bed sex (notes) - Another blowjob, rough sex over the hood of a car (partially written) - Pussy eating at the park (notes) - Hop not understanding FaceTime, fluff, smut (unwritten) - Roleplaying how they met, sex at Reader’s parents house (notes) - July 4th fingering, rough sex, surprises (notes) - Remote control vibrator (partially written) - More pussy eating, this time in Hop’s cutting edge shirt (partially written) - Yet another blowjob, this time in a movie theater (unwritten) - Jealousy resulting in overstimulation/”forced” orgasms (notes) - 4 part miniseries about butt plugs/anal sex (notes) - Confronting her parents, angst (55-60%) - Learning about Sara, ANGST! (notes)

Vacation series - modem!Hopper and Reader go on vacation together. That’s it, that’s the plot. Idea from David’s Croatian vacation pics and conversations with Tayler. All just notes at this point. - Christening the hotel bed - Bratty Reader getting semi-publicly punished - Hopper taking care of drunk!Reader, humor, fluff - Double date

carpenter!Hopper - Reader is recently divorced and hires Hop to make repairs on her house before she sells it. Graphic detail of him doing manly things like sawing and hammering. Porn with plot. Inspired by another friend, she knows who she is. (Notes in the form of a 500-word summary)

Detective Hopper - various bits and pieces of ideas inspired by David being digitally handcuffed to Darren Criss and Michael Stuhlbarg in Vanity Fair, plus a few pictures in 2016. (Unwritten)

Captain Hopper - a collaboration with @pkg4mumtown. She said she was thinking about fire captain!Hopper rescuing her from a burning building and I told her my pre-existing firefighter idea of being saved and then wanting to thank him in a variety of ways. Things snowballed from there and I decided we need to write it. Mostly just notes so far. - Initial meeting, first date, sex - Second date, making dinner together, sex

Hopper x Joyce:

There is a list of my Jopper ideas (Various degrees of notes)

Teenage Joyce and Hopper meeting in high school and their relationship that follows. Maybe a oneshot? Maybe a series? (Notes)

Hopper x Billy: (Over 18-years-old and no longer in high school!)

1940/50’s AU - Hopper meets expat Billy at a cigar club while on vacation in Havana. A familiar face, so to speak, in a foreign land. Hop pays Billy to take him back to his apartment and “keep him company”. Maybe two chapters? Inspired by a photo of Dacre Montgomery in GQ Germany. (Partially written.)

Hopper catches Billy “renting his time” at a truck stop outside of town and threatens to arrest him, but Billy bribes him with sex. (Unwritten.) I’m sorry but there’s just something about the idea of rent boy Billy that I absolutely love.

Hopper + Billy + Reader - completely implausible threeway (Unwritten)

David Harbour RPF:

AU where instead of being an actor, he’s a drama teacher at a high school in New York City and the kids from Stranger Things are his students. Pure fluff. (Please write this for me!)

Giving him a blow job before an important event. TWO different versions. Inspired by numerous photos of David wearing a robe. (Minimal notes)

Riding his thigh and everything that entails. Inspired by a picture of David from GQ Mexico. (Minimal notes)

touch-starved!David hires a sexworker during the pandemic because he’s lonely quarantining by himself. No sex. He literally just wants a hug and someone to be affectionate with him. Unconventional fluff. (Unwritten)

Other DKH-related shenanigans:

Let’s Ride sequel - Reader goes on a second date with Deacon from SoulCycle, they go out for sashimi and end up at his place. He has a cat that he inherited from a neighbor. Reader teaches him how to put her in a chokehold. (Unwritten)

Alexei Shostakov smut - some type of Bond Girl situation where Reader has to seduce him. Just an excuse for me to lovingly describe his large tattooed body in vivid detail. (Unwritten)

The Stranger - Reader has an ongoing affair with a mysterious man whose name is never mentioned. They meet at high society functions and hook up in fancy hotels. One night, he finds out that she’s married and punishes her for her dishonesty. Inspired by a photo of David looking annoyed in a tuxedo. (Notes)

Daddy Dom/little girl roleplay fantasy. Sweet, smutty, and slightly taboo. (Notes)

Daddy’s Little...Helper - Me, as submissive!Reader, watching Daddy jack off right in front of my face after he comes home from work. Based on a conversation with an Instagram friend and a picture of David in the play “Cal In Camo” where he’s holding a beer bottle between his legs. (65%)

Stranger Things x Twin Peaks crossover - Chief Jim Hopper comes to Twin Peaks to help Special Agent Dale Cooper solve some type of paranormal mystery. Perhaps a parallel between The Black Lodge and The Upside Down? I think this would work really really well, but I can’t write it myself. (Please write this for me!)

In conclusion: Yes, I know I need to have my head examined. Yes, I know I spend too much time thinking about Jim Hopper. Let me know if you LIKE these ideas. Please do not let me know if you hate these ideas.

Tagging: @manawhaat @strangest-hour @007swhore @kingphillipblake @david-harbour-arg @misshawkins1993 @oxforddrama

#ST FF ideas #fanfic inspiration #DID NOT proofread this when I was done

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escapingpost · 5 years

Text

Strawberry, Chocolate, and Vanilla

“Everything happens for a reason.”

The saying was as cliche as it gets, but this was one of the rules you swore by.

So, you wonder what could the world possibly have in store in for you when you found your boyfriend cheating on you with your roommate in your own apartment.

You drown yourself in tasteless beer, while everyone else around you were distracted with their own conversations or activities. You question yourself why you even agreed to coming to this house party of some stranger.

The answer to your question was evident: Who even cares.

Before you knew it, you were looking around for something stronger to drink.

"Everything happens for a reason.” The saying proved correct again that night.

Because, that night, you met two of the most interesting boys that would change your life.

You never met them before, but the two boys found you staring into the lights of the dirty backyard pool of the house.

“You’re not going to jump are you?”

“That water isn’t even a clear blue anymore. ”

The two were wearing light colored dress shirts, each attractive and unique in their own way. Their tattoos slightly showed.

You try to match your slow vision to the people next to you, but the dim lighting from the pool light made it harder.

Both of them had silly smiles plastered on their faces and genuinely seemed curious if you were willing to catch a disease to swim in the huge pool.

One of the males squint their eyes to get a better look at the person they were talking to and that is when the smile from his faces drops.

There was evident tear tracks and mascara smudging on your face.

The second male seem to also notice and the two males look at each other in surprise.

“I’m not jumping in.” Afraid that they caught on to your little waterworks show, you quickly excuse yourself.

You never expected to meet them again at the first meeting of your school’s soccer team.

The two men were new members of the team and were scouted from a city far from your college campus.

Quickly lifting up your clipboard to hide your face, you slowly try to merge in with the other soccer club managers. Taking soft steps back, your back hits a wall.

“Boo.”

It wasn’t a wall.

You jolt up in surprise.

You hear a chuckle, “Hey, poolside.”

Before you could say anything else, another familiar face walks up to hang his arm over his shoulder, “Thought I saw a familiar face in the crowd.”

You let out a nervous laugh, “Yeah.”

The two look at each other as if talking through their eyes before turning to you.

“Name is Seungwoo.” says the one with his arm over the other boy.

“Seungyoun.” the other says with his arms lazily crossed.

From that first official meeting, you could tell they were not ordinary college guys.

Seungyoun and Seungwoo were best friends. Both of them were charming in different ways. Without trying, their confidence radiated and showed their natural charisma. It was a new feeling that you could not pin point in other people around your age.

One thing for sure was they were in a different league from you. Plus, you were not in the position to be looking around for a new relationship.

Being cheated on felt like a scam. You were not going to fall for it, or anyone, any time soon.

You told them your name with doubt that they would remember you as someone other than that person ugly crying near the poolside. However, in the next few soccer club meetings, they greeted you with your real name and a friendly smile.

Your gaze naturally followed them when they were around. You were not the only person to do that. Whenever they spoke, everyone listened. Even in informal club meetings at restaurants or bars, they were always the center of attention.You thought of them possibly being sociopaths because of how easily they controlled the whole room or a group of people.

Of course, that notion might have been made from the distrust you had in boys in general.

You only wanted to observe and not speak to either of them, but being one of the soccer managers did not work in your favor.

“We’ll take a head shot and then I’ll have a full body one with the soccer ball.” you told Seungwoo as you gesture him in front of the lockers into the frame of the picture.

He gave you his signature charming smile, “Sounds good.”

Seungwoo stood staring at the camera as you zoom in closer. You bite down on your bottom lip seeing how almost perfect he came out in the preview.

A few seconds go by and Seungwoo breaks the silence, “Are you feeling better?”

You continue to play with the settings on the camera and switching between looking at him and then through the lens of the camera, “What do you mean?”

Watching your every move, Seungwoo grabs you by the wrist and pulls you forward, “Come closer, I don’t bite.”

You stare up at him with his porcelain face just a little bit closer than before, “The camera won’t focus if you’re this close.” You stutter for half a second.

“The camera or you?” Seungwoo teases while holding you by the wrist. His head slightly tilts as he raises his eyebrows.

“Is it my turn yet?” Seungyoun comes into the locker room while he blotted off the sweat running down his face.

Pulling your hand away from Seungwoo’s grasp, you turn to Seungyoun, “Not yet.”

“Well, the picture isn’t going to take itself if you two are flirting.” Seungyoun nudges Seungwoo.

You shape your mouth in an “o”, “We’re not.”

Seungyoun teases you about your pink cheeks the whole time and Seungwoo tries to stop it, but ends up joining the fun. You told them that you were going to take pictures in the ugliest angles and use that as their profile picture.

You had to be honest: There was no angle that made them any less attractive.

In the end, it was the ice breaker that made you more comfortable around Seungyoun and Seungwoo. Days went by and you started seeing them outside of the team meetings.

“I’ll get one vanilla shake, one strawberry smoothie.” Seungyoun starts ordering. He turns to you, “How about you?”

You shake your hand to reject him but Seungwoo steps in front of you, “She likes chocolate.” he states. How did he know that? The two boys look up at the menu to look for a chocolate drink.

Blocked by their huge backsides, you tiptoe to get their attention, “Its really fine.”

“We’ll just take that hot chocolate with whip cream.” Seungyoun says.

The three of you sat down in the corner of the cafe with your textbooks.

You take a sip of the hot chocolate and it comforts you as you jot down notes. Your thought process is interrupted when you see Seungyoun lightly playing with your loose strand of hair. You look up at him in confusion, “Can you not be disruptive for more than five minutes?”

Seungwoo looks at the two of you and shakes his head, “Behave, Seungyoun.” He does a double take on your face.

You lift up your pencil to hit Seungyoun, but a thumb swipes the bottom of your lips.

Seungwoo licks the whip cream off his thumb and nonchalantly goes back to his own school work.

Somehow, the joke was always on you because you could not stop your cheeks from pinking at Seungwoo’s gestures.

The days turned into months and the more you befriended them, the more scared you were.

Having them around was like having two knights by your side. You were close, but your feelings were so far. The two boys wore their hearts on their sleeves and told you everything about their past relationships or encounters.

On the contrary, you built a small wall out of your insecurities from your last relationship. A part of you convinced yourself that they were only hanging out with you because they were kind and they caught you at a vulnerable state that night.

“Hey Seungyoun, look. Its so cute.” You grabbed a pen with a small cartoon bunny on top.

Seungyoun smiles, “Nice.”

You put the pen back into the display and look back at him, “Everything here is so cute.”

“Yeah. Everything.”

“Hey, Seungyoun!” a couple of girls greet him from a different aisle and make their way towards the two of you.

Seungyoun waves his hand at them and you bite down on your bottom lip. That was another problem with your new friendship. You felt guilty they were seen with you.

“Where’s Seungwoo?” one of the girls ask.

“Seungwoo went to the arts and crafts section.” Seungyoun answers.

The girl nods, “I never thought I’d see you guys in a stationary store like this.”

Seungyoun places his hand on your head, “This little one wanted to come in.”

You give him a slight glare, “You said it was a good idea too!”

“I thought she was just their team manager?” one of the girls whisper.

You clearly hear her and quickly take Seungyoun’s hand off your head. You point to the back with your thumb, “I’m just gonna go see the stuffed animals.”

Before you could leave the group of girls and Seungyoun, Seungwoo is already caught up with you and Seungyoun. Luckily, you somehow managed to ditch the big group of girls and left Seungyoun and Seungwoo behind.

No, the problem were not the girls. The problem was not being seen with Seungyoun or Seungwoo either.

The problem was you. You had to protect yourself from hurt and the only answer you could come up with was to handle it alone. Like you always did.

You ignored any text messages or calls from either of them the rest of the day. The next day, you called in sick so you did not have to attend the soccer meeting.

Hey, poolside! Feel better.

If the text message from Seungyoun was not enough, Seungwoo knocked on the door of your apartment as soon as the day was over, “Hey.” You greet him.

The warmth in his eyes were gone and he wore a serious expression. His voice is low and deep as he says your name to greet you back.

You step out of your apartment and the two of you walk to the nearest place to sit.

“Are you feeling okay?”

You shake your head, “No.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m not sure.” You look down at your feet.

Sooner or later, you knew the question would come up, “Were you crying about someone that night?”

And you knew what night he was talking about, “Didn’t you already hear what happened? I’m sure the story has already spread.“

“I did. I just wanted to”

“Know if its accurate?” You laugh at yourself and nod, “As true as Seungyoun speaking Portuguese.” You knew him better now to use the metaphor in context.

Seungwoo is quiet and does not laugh at your attempt to joke around.

“I hope that answers everything.” You get up to escape his stare, but Seungwoo stands in front of you.

“Why are you ignoring us?”

“Why are you hanging out with me?” Your voice gets louder in attempt to hide the tremble in your tone.

“Because we like you. We want to be around you.” Seungwoo answers like it was the easiest question in the world.

“I don’t even want to be me.” You whisper to yourself.

“So you had one shitty guy cheat on you. He’s trash. You’re” Seungwoo pauses, “You’re great.”

You try to look for any sign of hesitation in his eyes, but found none.

Seungwoo sighs in frustration and it was the first time you have seen him suppressing his anger.

You curl your hands in a small fist, crinkling the edge of your shirt.

Seungwoo’s expression softens when he sees the pain in your eyes. He quietly says your name and pulls you in a hug.

Unwanted tears fall, “Sorry.”

Seungwoo rubs your back, “Its okay.” he repeatedly says. “I’ll fix everything for you.”

As if it was another person, his voice sends chills down your spine causing you to slowly stop your tears. You pull away from the hug and his fringe are covering his eyes, “Seungwoo?”

“I’ll see you later.”

to be cont.

#x1 scenarios #seungwoo scenarios #seungyoun scenarios #x1 imagines #seungyoun imagines #seungwoo imagines

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pynkhues · 5 years

Note

Domestic brio prompt: one of the kids call Rio dad or Marcus call Beth mom.

This one blew out a bit, anon! And isn’t exactly what you asked for, but I hope it scratches the itch anyway, haha. :-)

Beth’s still pulling Marcus and Jane’s backpacks out of their classroom cubbies when Jane scrambles up beside her, a splotch of vivid, dried green paint on the front of her dress, and a determined look on her face.

“We gotta go to the special store,” Jane says purposefully, and Beth blinks down at her, surprised. The special store has never exactly been Jane’s favourite place after all, and Beth had honestly avoided taking her there after a particularly spectacular tantrum last year in the buttons and clasps aisle.

Because that was the thing about the special store – it was special to Beth, not to the kids. It was the craft store – any craft store, really, the nickname having stuck after Beth’s first bout of post-partum with Kenny, when the only thing that had been able to get her out of bed – hell, the only thing that had reignited her dulled nerves – was the purposeful colour coordination of balls of yarn and the categorical organisation of stickers for scrapbooking. She’d cooed stories of special stores down into all of her kids’ cradles, bounced them up and down the aisles, not even thinking of making anything, just finding a stranger sort of solace in the promise of it all when everything else had felt so unmanageable, and even after all these years, the name had stuck.

“Do we need something from it?” Beth asks curiously, and Jane sets her jaw, her head lolling around and then quickly back again, and Beth follows her briefly-held gaze, spotting Marcus at the front of the classroom, talking and laughing with a gaggle of little boys, oozing childish ease and charisma. And god, Beth thinks, exhaling, a grin finding her face, watching him roll his shoulders down, shake his head a little, he really is just like his dad.

“We’ve got homework,” Jane tells her, and Beth’s focus darts back down to her daughter, and just - - she could almost laugh. She thinks she can count on one hand the number of times Jane’s willingly brought up homework.

“Well, okay then,” Beth allows, dropping Marcus’ backpack to the floor just long enough to turn Jane’s around, holding the straps wide enough for Jane to wriggle her arms into. Once it’s on, Beth grabs Marcus’ again, starting to hustle them out the room. “What’s the homework?”

“Family tree,” Jane says, and Beth has to suppress a groan, immediately wondering if she can scrounge Emma or Danny’s out of storage to put them all out of their misery. This sort of thing always takes way longer than it should, and Beth hates that the process always involves a level of pretend and make believe – of fairy tale. Or at least, Beth had always made it that way. She bites the inside of her cheek, wondering if Annie really did have the better idea with it – she’d never made any illusions with Sadie after all. She’d just given him the pictures of herself and Beth and Ruby and said that was all the family on their side worth knowing.

Still, Beth pauses by the door, turning back towards the classroom. Maybe things are different for Jane.

“Marcus!” she calls, interrupting whatever story he’s telling among the group of boys. “You ready to go, honey?”

He practically glows up at her, a hundred-watt smile as he quickly says goodbye to his friends and scurries over to her, spinning on the spot so that Beth can slide the straps of his backpack over his shoulders too.

“You had a good day?” she asks, and he nods up at her, grabbing her hand, and Beth reaches for Jane’s with the other, leading them out towards the car.

***

So they do swing by the craft store on their way home and pick up some poster boards (yellow for Jane, blue for Marcus), some glitter markers, multi-coloured tissue paper and brown yarn (it’s like bark, Marcus insists, and Beth can’t say it’s a colour she has in her home stash). Getting home, she promptly sets them both up at the dining room table with a snack, and gets a head start on dinner.

And really, it’s barely been an hour when the front door cracks open and Emma and Danny chatter their way through, Rio half a step behind them with Emma’s bag from ballet slung over his shoulder. They’d started splitting the pick-ups, and honestly it had been a godsend in a way that Beth had never really thought about before – being able to do the one swooping trip instead of the stuttered one she’d had to do on her own (or, well, while she was with Dean) – no afterschool activity seemingly finishing at the same time.

Plus it always meant one of them got to work a little later – Rio getting the late pick-up today of Emma from ballet and Danny from his art class (Kenny has blissfully head off to a sleepover at a friend’s place, which lightens the load even more). Beth watches affectionately, still peeling carrots and parsnips at the kitchen island as Emma shows Rio her spins up the hallway and Rio looks on, dutifully impressed, before directing Danny upstairs to clean up (even from this distance she can see his hands are covered in charcoal).

Behind her, the pot on the stove boils loudly, and Beth spins on the spot, adjusting the temperature dial before making quick work slicing the carrot and parsnip and dropping them into the water. She’ll add peas, she thinks, string beans. She’s sure she got some broccoli the other day too. She’s still thinking about what vegetables to add when a hand slides down her back and Rio presses easily to her side.

“Need a hand, mami?” he asks, and Beth shakes her head, leaning into him before she can help it. It’s strange, how this can still make her flush, the ease with which he touches her something she’s still so unused to – the want she feels in even his most innocent touches, the want she feels in herself.

“Was Emma okay after ballet?” she asks instead, distracting herself from the heat of his body beside hers, his hand dropping lower, lower, until he finds the curve of her ass and lightly squeezes. Her flush deepens, and she can feel Rio laugh more than hear it, the gentle movement of his chest at her arm. “I know she hasn’t liked this new teacher as much as the last one, but the committee really does think she’ll be a good fit once she settles in, and she’s only a maternity leave cover anyway, and - -”

She’s babbling now, distracting herself, and they both know it. They’ve had the kids for two weeks is the thing, and it’s been great, but it also means that time just for them has been hard to find, and she already knows Rio’s cleared their work schedules for the afternoon after Dean and Laura pick up the kids, but still, Beth can’t help but - -

“Mommy,” Jane calls from the dining room behind them, her voice cutting through Beth’s rambling thoughts. “Is Rio my daddy now?”

And just - -

What?

They both stiffen instantly, Rio promptly putting a little distance between them as they turn on the spot to look at where Jane’s looking right back at them from the dining room table, a glitter marker in her hands, Marcus beside her, a startled expression on his own face.

Beth glances sideways at Rio, before clearing her throat, putting the slotted spoon down beside the stove and carefully softening her features.

“Your dad is your daddy,” Beth says gently. “Nothing’s going to change that.”

She’s not sure what she’s expecting, perhaps a quiet agreement or some teary-eyed confusion, but it’s not for Jane to look at her like she’s the one being silly. Her little hand clenches tighter around the glitter marker.

“Michaela has two daddies,” Jane says authoritatively, tilting her chin up, and Beth laughs, surprised.

“Yes, but Michaela’s daddies are married to each other, honey.”

“You’re married to each other.”

She says it with such certainty that it takes Beth a minute to recover, her eyes darting over to Rio who’s just sort of staring at Jane with a blindsided expression that under any other circumstances would be hilarious. Beth shakes her head at Jane, smiling as benignly as she can.

“No we’re not.”

“You live together,” Jane says, and Marcus nods beside her, seemingly hopping on board with Jane’s train of thought. He squints a little at his dad, as if seeing him in a new light.

“And you only have one bed,” he says slowly.

“And Mr. Rio puts his hand on your butt alllll the time,” Jane adds, and Beth pinks at that, shooting Rio a filthy look in the process (god, with the way he always insists the kids don’t notice - - she sucks in a breath).

“Well, mommy and Rio are girlfriend and boyfriend, remember?”

“Auntie Annie doesn’t live with any of her boyfriends,” Jane says, and Marcus nods in agreement, and then it’s Rio giving Beth a dirty look and she can’t really blame him. What does Annie even talk to them about when she babysits?

“That’s true,” Beth allows. “But there are lots of ways to be girlfriend and boyfriend, and Rio and I are - -”

She looks over at him, searching for the word, but he now seems almost as curious as the kids as to what she says. Flailing briefly, she settles on: “Special,” and hates the way her heart flutters when she sees Rio’s gaze soften.

Still, Jane makes a pointed sound in her throat like she isn’t pleased with the answer, fixing her gaze back down on her poster board.

“Then what do I call him on my tree?” she says with a pout, and Beth sighs, flicking off the stove, putting a pin in dinner, and stepping around the kitchen island towards the dining room table. Beside Jane, Marcus looks equally confused, and she can see the way they’ve drawn each other onto their trees already, all five of the kids, and then Beth and Rio too, but outside of their respective parents, everyone else sits unnamed.

What does she call him? Beth wonders, her gaze darting over to Rio who’s stepped out of the kitchen too, is looking over the poster boards and piecing together what has the kids so newly confused on his own.

“And what do I call you?” Marcus adds, blinking up at her, and Beth tries to smile down at him, her mind reeling through options. She thinks about Annie, what she told Sadie to call Noah, but then Sadie had been older, and Noah had been - - well. She exhales, reaching out to run a hand through Jane’s hair as she looks over at Marcus.

“Well, I could be your Aunt Beth,” she says, and then to Jane: “And Rio can be your Uncle Rio.”

Jane doesn’t look particularly sold on this answer, her face drawing into a little scowl, and Beth frowns, her own brow furrowing, because something feels off. Jane’s always been prone to bouts of moodiness, but this feels like something more.

“Uncles have to be with aunties,” Jane suddenly decides. “Like Uncle Stan is with Auntie Ruby, and Uncle Greg was with Auntie Annie. Mr Rio’s your boyfriend, not Auntie Annie’s.”

At the mere prospect, Rio visibly blanches, and Beth rolls her eyes, pushing out a hip and continuing to stroke Jane’s hair. She’d hoped it would’ve calmed her down, but she seems almost jittery with energy, with - - something, and Beth’s already tracking down the dubby in her head, even as she says:

“Okay, well, what would you like to call him then?”

With that, Jane looks over at Rio, her face still pulled into that little scowl, and Rio pops an eyebrow at her, a gently enquiring (and softly amused) look on his face, and she opens her mouth and then it’s just that – quick as anything, her bottom lip quivering as she looks down at the poster board again, her hand almost white knuckled around the glitter marker in her fist.

“You’ve got to get married,” Jane says desperately, and Beth lets out a breath, ignoring the way Rio snorts a little, amused, behind her.

“Jane,” she starts, but then stops, the air sucked from her lungs when Jane suddenly bursts into sobs, her little face red and splotchy, her lashes pearling with tears.

“If you’re married, Marcus is mine,” Jane cries. “He’s my friend, he’s my brother, he’s mine,” and just like that, everything suddenly clicks into place. Jane’s insistence on the homework, her need to make it special at the special store, Marcus in the classroom, surrounded by boys, by new friends, and Jane on her own, and instantly Beth’s heart just breaks, and she’s down, plucking her daughter out of the seat, clutching her as tightly to her chest as she can.

Her own gaze skirts quickly to Marcus – who looks visibly distressed now – and Rio – who looks mostly just bewildered by the whole thing, as she lets Jane hide her face in her chest. Rio stands up, but Beth shakes her head, gesturing him back down to Marcus.

“Marcus made some new friends at school,” Beth says quickly, and Rio’s mouth quickly forms a neat ah, as he glances down at his son. “We’re going to go find Jane’s dubby.”

Rio just nods, walking around the table and slipping down into the chair that Beth just plucked Jane out of, and Beth makes quick work up the stairs towards Jane’s bedroom, never losing her tight grip on her daughter.

***

The thing is, they don’t even get the chance to talk about it until later that night – until after Beth’s calmed Jane down, after she’s reassured her that what Jane and Marcus have is special too, that even if he makes new friends, he won’t be leaving her behind, until after Beth’s managed to get her back downstairs, settled her on the couch, still wobbly lipped, in front of The Powerpuff Girls, until after dinner, after putting all the kids to bed, after - -

Well.

Beth sighs as Rio rolls off her, flopping heavily into the mattress beside her, running a hand back over his head, lips pulled into a sated grin. Stretching out her still trembling legs, she rolls over enough to grab a few tissues off her bedside table, doing a poor job of cleaning herself up. Whatever, she’ll shower later, she thinks, resisting the urge to yawn as she bundles up the tissues onto her bedside table to throw away when she gets up.

The post-orgasmic bliss wears off too quickly though, her lips turning down as she thinks about Jane’s kittenish warbles against her neck earlier that night – the worry in her of losing Marcus, of losing Rio, just like she’d lost her dad. Or not lost him per se, Beth reminds herself, just - - the family. The lifestyle. Everything she knew. Guilt spikes in Beth’s gut, and she sucks in a breath, resisting the urge to get up, pull her clothes on, slip into bed beside her daughter and hold her close.

As if he’s felt the shift in her, Rio rolls over onto his side, turning to face her in the bed, his eyes squinting a little, taking her in.

“They’ll be fine, ma,” he tells her softly, and then adds, a little dryly: “Hell, a little space might even be good for ‘em.”

And Beth snorts at that, rolling her head around to face him, her eyebrow arched.

“Good for you, you mean,” she interprets, and Rio grins a little, pretending to be caught out, even though they both know he’d take their antics over their unhappiness any day of the week. “And I know, I just - -”

She gestures an arm out into the open air, pulling the sheet up around herself in the process.

“I get why she’d be upset,” Beth says. “And I can’t help but feel that it’s a little my fault.”

“How you figure that?”

Beth just shrugs, and steadfastly refuses to answer the question, and Rio exhales a hoarse, slightly annoyed breath, but doesn’t probe any deeper. Instead, his hand finds her belly, smoothing over the sheet on top of it, before he trails it up, ghosting over her breast.

The thing is, Beth knows what Jane must be feeling. Had born witness to her own family’s shaky demise as a girl, the introduction of somebody new she hadn’t been able to bear the thought of being apart from, only Annie was not Marcus, and Jane was certainly not Beth, and god forbid Beth ever become a ghost like her mother. She sighs, rubbing a little at her chest, her fingers briefly brushing against Rio’s and she opens her mouth, intending to say what, she’s not sure, but instead what comes out is:

“Would it bother you if Jane called you daddy?”

It’s enough to still his hand, and it’s a moment, maybe two, before he speaks again.

“Would it bother you?” he throws back, and Beth blinks, turning to look at him, his dark eyes fixed unblinkingly back on her, and Beth thinks about it – really thinks about it, and while she thinks nothing would ever replace Dean, nor would she want it to, the thought of any of her kids having that sort of relationship with Rio tightens something in a way that both excites her and frightens her. So she shakes her head.

“No, it wouldn’t bother me.”

It takes a moment for Rio to react, but when he does, he just nods, an unreadable expression on his face, that somehow lightens something inside her she can’t name.

“Would it bother you if Marcus called you mama?” he drawls, voice dipped unintentionally low, and that’s just enough to make Beth laugh, grabbing the hand of his that’s settled on her breast.

“If he said it like that, absolutely,” she says, still giggling, and Rio rolls his eyes, lighter again himself, sliding in closer to her, biting her shoulder.

“Come on, ma, serious.”

Beth shakes her head no, his face so close to hers now that the movement of it makes her cheek brush against the bristle of his buzzed hair, causing her to shiver pleasantly.

“It should be their choice though,” Beth decides. “What they want to call us, and when they want to do it.”

Rio hums a warm noise of agreement, lifting his head enough to nose against her jawline, biting a little at her chin dimple before he kisses her, and just - - god, this is a conversation they need to have with the kids then, and there’s still much to figure out, so much to think about, but Beth melts beneath his touch, like she always does, like, she thinks, she always will.

#beth x rio #jr good girls #the center and circumference #beth boland #rio #jane boland #marcus #nbc good girls #my fic #welcome to my ama #prompt fills

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reckless-snd-brave · 5 years

Text

Change - S.H

I don’t see a lot of plus size Imagines, so I figure why not throw some out there. This is the first I’m writing for Stranger Things, so it may not be great. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Feedback is highly appreciated, and I’m taking requests.

Steve Harrington x plus size/ chubby reader

Something super cute

Warnings: insecurity, bullying (if I missed anything, let me know!)

I do not own this gif, all credit and rights to the owner.

It was now the beginning of summer, and unfortunately your start at scoops ahoy. It wasn’t great, but free ice cream was definitely a perk. You had to save money for a car, and boy would that just be fantastic. That being said, there was another problem. Steve Harrington was now your coworker, the Steve Harrington.

Sure, you heard of him, how could you not? But you always thought he was a prick who was full of himself. He hung out with your bullies and never once stopped them from harassing you. Therefore, you lumped him in with them. Now, you had to suffer working with him all summer. But you kept it civil, sticking to the job and not really engaging with him. Robin became a good friend though, and you loved the girl.

The sailor suit made you uncomfortable, showing too much skin. But Robin complemented you, saying it looked nice. Unfortunately, this attracted creepy men coming in to stare at your body like a piece of meat. You learned to deal with it.

On a slow day, Dustin Henderson walked into the shop with that adorable goofy grin. You loved him like a little brother, usually babysitting him and his friends. The boy looked happy to see you, but happier to see Steve. You watched with amusement as he interacted with the boy, all childish and silly. Maybe he wasn’t an asshole anymore, everyone changed at some point in their life.

“Steve, you never told me you worked with such a pretty lady. Y/N, it’s good to see you.” Dustin said, shooting you a wink.

You only giggled, making the boy blush. But Steve chuckled nervously, looking between you two. “Well, you missed out on a lot buddy.” He replied.

You made Dustin a sundae and watched as he talked to Steve sitting in a booth together. Unfortunately a rush began and Robin strolled in for her shift to help you out. Even though Steve was off, he stayed with Dustin and chatted. The conversation seemed important, and they both kept glancing at you.

That Friday night you were set to close by yourself, and you dreaded it. Customers always came in last second to loiter and eat ice cream. It annoyed you, making you waste time while they enjoyed themselves. Tonight was no different, a group of old bullies from school demanded to be served and took their sweet time.

After half an hour, the group got up and approached you. They looked smug, like they were up to something. Unease set in your stomach and you knew something was going on.

Jessica Wilder, the leader of the group, leaned across the counter. Her blonde hair perfectly styled, looking like a model. “Wow, it’s a shame that you work here. I was hoping you’d finally work on losing weight, because honey you need it.” She spoke with venom, her words holding a meanness behind them. “Oh well, maybe you’ll just gain more weight and no one will ever want you.”

You bit back tears, holding yourself together. You had trained yourself to put on a poker face. “Is that all for you today?” You asked, ignoring her harsh comments. You used your customer friendly voice.

Jessica’s boyfriend, Kyle, scoffed. “What a fat pig, I bet she eats all the ice cream while she works.” He said snarky. “You know, my milkshake wasn’t too good, better not waste it.”

And there it was, the action you knew was coming. He poured it all over your head, harshly throwing the paper cup down while laughing. Before you could get it together, Jessica and her other friends dumped their own ice cream on you as well. The laughter stabbed you like knives, bringing back the pain you hoped to never feel again. You kept the tears back as the walked out, snickering to themselves.

You quickly locked up and ran to the bathroom, desperately trying to clean yourself up. But it wasn’t working, and the frustration got to you. You cried while finishing your tasks that night, and hurried home. You decided that the job wasn’t worth it anymore, and you’d find something else.

The next day you walked in with your stained uniform neatly folded. You had tried cleaning it, but the stains were perminit, just as your pain was. With all the courage you could muster, you made yourself look indifferent. You didn’t want them knowing something was wrong.

Steve looked happy to see you, his bright smile almost making you feel better. But the his face fell when he spotted the uniform. He now looking concerned. As far as he could tell, you liked working with them. Had he done something wrong? Had he been a jerk somehow?

“Hey, what’s going on?” Steve asked, forcing a smile. “I hope you came to just get a new uniform, because if you quit I’ll be sad.” He half joked.

But the sad smile on your face now confirmed it. “I just came to return my uniform and let them know I can’t work here anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I loved working with you guys, but I can’t handle it anymore.” You admitted, try’s to avoid telling him what happened.

But Steve wasn’t having any of that. “Did something happen? Did I do something to make you upset? Because if I did I’m really sorry and I didn’t mean to.” He told you, with a frown.

You shook your head, smiling at how sweet he was being. You learned just how much he had changed. You had a feeling it was those kids.

“No, not you. Just some stupid kids last night while I was closing.” You told him, deciding to just dress up. “Jessica and her little crew came in and basically threw their ice cream on me.” When Steve’s face showed anger, not at you but still. “It’s not a big deal, I’m used to it.”

But Steve scoffed, wanting to knock the lights out of Kyle. “No, it is a big deal. You shouldn’t have to deal with that shit.” He protested. “You won’t be closing by yourself anymore and I promise you that they won’t mess with you anymore.”

He said it like ignoring the fact you were quitting. You had never seen him so upset before, it was nice of him to care but you didn’t want pity. You sighed heavily, giving him a pleading look. You didn’t want to cause trouble.

“Steve, please-“

“Just stick it out one more week, okay? I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Just stay one more week.” He bargained with you, his hands coming to rest on your shoulders. His touch was warm and comforting.

Of course your resolve crumbled at his pleading eyes. “Alright, just one week.” You agreeed sternly.

A bright smile lit up his face, a hopeful look in his eyes. “I’ll go get you a new uniform.”

Steve made up his mind, he wasn’t going to let them treat you like that. To Steve, the day you walked in that uniform, he fell in love. You’re body was beautiful, with soft curves and thick thighs. He just wanted to squeeze them, feel your soft skin. But it wasn’t just lust, you were incredibly special. The way you carried yourself, how you smiled at him and even laughed at his stupid jokes. He found himself constantly trying to make you smile, because it was the best thing he’d ever seen.

He parked outside Kyles house, ready to confront him. In all honesty, Steve knew he could handle him. Once he took Kyle down wrestling. He marched up to the foo and knocked.

An annoyed looking Kyle opened the door, stepping out on the porch. “What do you want, Harrington?” He asked.

“I want you to stop harassing Y/N. I don’t want to see you near the damn shop while she’s working, or else we will have a big problem.” He told Kyle with a snarl.

Kyle scoffed, looking amused. “Aww, here to protect your fat girlfriend? Honestly I never thought you’d stoop so low to date her. She so-“

But before he could finish, Steve’s fist connected with Kyles face. Then the fight ensued. Hard hits and cuts littered them both, but Steve had made his point. He left Kyle on the ground, groaning in pain. Steve was satisfied.

When Y/N walked into work the next day, she stopped in her tracks when she spotted him. Busted lip, bruised jaw and a few cuts on his cheek and nose. Her worried look turned into anger. In her signature way, she placed her hands on her hips and looked at him. He found it cute, how bossy she looked.

“Steve! I told you not to cause trouble. You big idiot.” She scolded him.

But Steve smiled, a kind of dopey smile. It was totally worth it. “Yeah, yeah. When have I ever listened?” He retorted. “Besides, I won.”

You rolled your eyes, slapping him in the chest. “Well, it’s over with now.” She said, sounding exhausted.

Before she could walk away, he grabbed her wrist gently. He smiled at her and moved his hand to hold hers. “Look, Y/N. I really like you, and you deserve to be treated better. I can’t stand the thought of you crying or being in pain because some dick bags.” He admitted. “So I did what I thought was right.”

Your anger melted, heart warming with his words. You couldn’t help the blush on your cheeks. “Steve, you don’t have to act like you like me.” You told him, not believing he could really like you.

Steve shook his head. “I’m not acting. You’re beautiful, Y/N. And god, do I want to show you. Every small detail, the subtle things you do, it drives me crazy.” He confessed.

You were stunned, unsure what to say. But he pulled you closer, warm breath fanning your face. He gave you time to pull away if you wanted, but you didn’t. So his kisses you, sweetly at first. It turned passionate, pouring his feelings into it. When he pulled back, he grinned.

“Can I take you out? On a date?” He asked quietly.

You smiled and nodded. “I’d love that.”

While Steve may have used to be a dick, he sure did change. He was glad he could finally find someone special to love:

#stranger things #stranger things x plus size reader #steeve harrington #steve harrington imagine #plussize!reader #plus size reader #fluff #im emotional #yass queen

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lucky-bucky-boy · 5 years

Text

Fan Submission

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Very Very Smutty. 18+ only. And bad language

A/N: Submitted by @glass-hummingbird

Also like idk when the hell this would take place so I guess it’s in some strange warped timeline??? And also this turned out incredibly different from how I assumed it was going to be. As I wrote it kind of just became its own thing??? I’m not mad at it though.

Word Count: 5313

It wasn’t your typical scene. The place you were at was laughably called Seacrets. There were three different parts to it. A night club, a bar, and a restaurant. Your friends were all dancing away in the nightclub portion but you had stolen away to the bar. It was open, as in there wasn’t a roof and the ground below you was the softest sand you’d ever felt. A weekend getaway for you and your friends at the beach. They all said that you’d been a bit of a zombie lately. Honestly, the last time you didn’t feel so much like one was probably a year ago. At this moment you just weren’t in the mood for loud music that you had to scream over. Instead, you much preferred the chill sounds of a live reggae band. There were about three different bars that you could sit at and order drinks. You just choose whichever one had the most seats and order a Pain in The Ass. It’s a signature drink they have on tap. It’s of slurpee consistency and is a mix of Rum Runner and Pina Colada. You swirl the red and white drink around with your straw as you look around the place. Your hand reaches up and toys with your necklace. It’s a simple round emerald set in gold on a gold chain. You couldn’t remember exactly where you got it from but you always wore it. There are golden twinkle lights streamed around the tops of the bars in what you thought was an attempt to make starlight when the night sky itself was so drowned out by light pollution. The bases of the bars were cement with different coloured bottles that were back lit and glowed blue, green, and red. Overall it was a much better option than the club. You just weren’t feeling the whole sweaty bodies pressed up against each other vibe. The wind blew softly and the little umbrella that was placed in your drink caught the wind and flew out of your drink and across the bar table.

“Oops!” You mumble to yourself, reaching across and picking it up. It was then that you look up, locking eyes with a man another bar over. An image of your sleeve getting caught on a vine as you run flashes in your head. Your breathing hastens as if you were actually just running. His eyes turn from yours, a small grin forming on his lips. You blink back the odd sensation that just invaded your mind and try to shake it off. Glancing back up, he’s busy talking with another man. You look the two over. The man that you had locked eyes with looked a bit out of place. He wore an all black suit. You bite your lip and swirl your drink some more. Who wears a suit at the beach? He’s laughing now, you think at something the other man said, his green eyes crinkle slightly at corners. His long black locks blow slightly in the breeze and dance over his neck, contrasting against the pale skin there. The man he’s with looks classically like a pro athlete. Broad where the other is slim and boisterous where the other is elegant. They seem like night and day. The athletic man being golden and blonde.

“There you are!” It’s one of your friends and you practically jump out of your skin.

“Jesus, don’t scare me like that!” You say, placing a hand over your heart. Your friend is laughing at you and you glare.

“What the hell are you doing out here? I thought we agreed to stick together?” They say and you glance up to see that he’s gone, leaving the blonde alone, nodding his head to the music and playing with his little umbrella.

“I just needed a breather.” You play with your own little umbrella, eyes turned down at it.

“Lame,” They nudge you playfully and you glare up at them again, “Don’t stay out here too long. I’m going back.” They turn from you almost fall back.

“Excuse me.” You quickly glance over your shoulder and it’s another man. He’s incredibly tall and classically handsome. He’s got a strong jaw, a small dimple set in his chin, full lips, thick eyebrows and his short black hair is swept back from his face. There’s a coldness in his blue eyes. He’s broad and almost towering.

“Oh no. It’s perfectly fine.” Your friend smiles up at him. He smiles back, straight white teeth, long pointed incisors.

“I was walking over here to talk to your friend.” He turns to you from your friend and your friend raises their eyebrows at you. “I was wondering if you’d like some company.”

“Oh… n-”

“Yes. Yes she would.” Your friend grabs your hand and his and puts them together. The man laughs and you shake your head. “Enjoy your time together kids! And remember! Be safe!” Your eyes go wide as your friend walks away, leaving you completely red. The man is laughing and you can’t deny he is incredibly handsome but there wasn’t a spark there.

“I’m sorry about them. There’s really no excuse.” You try and he shakes his head, lifting a hand as if to say there’s no need.

“I think they were really nice actually.” He says and strokes his thumb over your palm. You pull your hand back and he clears his throat. “I’m Clark.”

“Y/N.” You say back and glance across to see the blonde still alone, but now looking around. This causes you to look around. You felt silly, looking for a man that you only made eye contact with but your mind goes back to that vine and you reach your hand down to the edge of your sleeve like it actually happened. The man next to you clears his throat again and you look back at him. “Sorry.” You shake your head and try to laugh it off. You see the blonde stand out of the corner of your eye and you glance up, seeing him now staring at you. Your brows furrow in confusion.

“Would you like to take a walk?” Clark asks you and you look back up at him.

“Sure.” You stand and turn away from the bar.

“You forgot.” He holds out your drink for you and you take it from him gratefully. He leads you over to an area next to water where people could sit on rafts and drink. The wind blew across the water, cooling it a little more than it already was. You shiver slightly and go to sip your drink, hoping the alcohol would warm you.

“Don’t drink that.” The voice stops you and an image of your hand running over velvet and silk in colours of gold and green flash through your mind. It sends a shiver up your spine. You glance over your shoulder and of course it’s the man in the suit.

“I’m sorry. Do you know her?” Clark asks, stepping between the two of you. The question suddenly makes your head hurt.

“I-I don’t know.” The man in the suit looks at you confused.

“Brother!” The blonde comes rushing up and puts his hand on the suited man’s shoulder. “Stop. We have to go.”

“I can’t go. He’s put something in her drink.” The suited man says and your eyes go wide.

“You what!?” You practically scream and Clark turns to face you.

“It was just a little something to help-” You don’t even let him finish. You throw the slush right at his face and walk right past everyone. Completely terrified you want nothing more to do with strangers. You stop yourself though and look right at the suited man. You can’t help but think he’s anything but a stranger.

“Thank you.” You say and the blonde reaches out for his brother’s arm. The suited man brushes it off, following after you.

“You guys can’t do this.” The blonde says and you both look at him. Clark starts to charge at you guys and the blonde sighs deeply, turning and punching him. He falls to the ground knocked out. Security comes up just then and the blonde stands back to talk to them.

“Should we just leave him there?” You ask and he shrugs.

“He’ll be ok. Plus, I think we need to talk.” He offers his arm out to you and hesitantly you place your hand in the crook of his elbow. It feels familiar, comfortable. The silence too was oddly comfortable as the two of you walk.

“So, why do I know you?” You ask finally as the two of you sit on a bench on the main strip of road that ran the length of the entire beach town.

“I’m not entirely sure.” He says, his green eyes searching your face and landing on your chest instead. “I know this.” He says, reaching out hesitantly. “May I?” He asks and you nod. His fingertips are cold against your skin. As they brush against your chest you get a flash of cold kisses, in the heat of summer, his cold hands pressing under your shirt. It leaves you breathless and his eyes flick up to yours. “You see something too?”

“Yes.” You breathe and he touches your cheek ever so softly. His fingertips trace over your cheekbone and brush back your hair from your face and behind your ear, fingertips tracing down your jaw to your chin. Your eyes slip closed and you can feel the ghost of his breath over your lips.

“STOP!” The sound of loud pounding footsteps can be heard and the two of you pull back from each other. “You can’t do this.”

“Do what, brother? You know something.” The man in the suit looks rather irritated and you look between the two of them.

“I’m not supposed to say. Just, that you two can’t be together. Also, Y/N, why are you out here? We came out here to get away from you.”

“Why do you know my name? Look. This is all bullshit. Tell us everything, Blondie.” You’re tired of all this bullshit. Your tired of the flashes and your tired from the lack of knowledge. With a deep sigh the blonde parts the two of you on the bench and sits between you.

“About a year ago the two of you were together.” He starts, looking between the two of you. “And by the way, it’s Thor. I’m an Avenger, strongest one at that.”

“That’s the Hulk.” You comment and he rolls his eyes.

“That’s what they’d have you think. You see I’m act-”

“Get to the point!” The suited man says and Thor raises his hands in surrender.

“Alright, alright.” He sits back and takes another deep breath. “The two of you were in love but then bad things started to happen. Loki,” He raised his hand to the suited man. Loki. The name caused your head to hurt more and you pressed your hands to your head. “Loki is wanted by a really bad man and one day someone came for you, Y/N. You were out for a hike with friends and strayed off. This person found you alone. Why do you like doing that by the way? It totally sets you up for danger. It’s like your a magnet for danger when you’re alone and-”

“The point!” Loki cuts him off again and Thor nods.

“Right. So, luckily Heimdall was able to see this happening. We were able to get to you in time. One of Thanos’ followers was after you. No one particularly strong. I guess he didn’t think a human would take much.” The image of you running came back to you. The thorn catching your sleeve as you ran from a figure. It was still a bit blurry. You remembered Loki and Thor appearing, how you screamed out for him. How you didn’t remember much else after that. “Loki decided on his own that the only way to protect you was to erase your memories of him and his of you. Cut all ties with you so that you’d be safe. Any recognition you had of either of us could be explained away as ‘Oh they’re an Avenger’. Of course we never thought you’d be in the same place again.” Thor said and you pressed your hand to your necklace as if on reflex. “Oh that thing! Loki gave that to you, in case this all blew over. So you’d remember everything again.”

“Convenient.” Loki comments and Thor turned to him with a shrug.

“It was your own doing. But I was told to keep you two apart.”

“Asshole.” You stood. The word just spewing out of your mouth.

“What?” Loki looked up at you, “How dare you.”

“No. How dare you? You just decide for me what’s best for me?” You glare down at him and he goes to open his mouth.

“Look, guys. Really. I don’t think-” Thor raised his hands up as if to settle you down.

“Shut it, golden boy.” You snap.

“Y/N. Ouch.” Thor looks up at you as if hurt. A smile broke out over Loki’s lips and you can feel your heart melting slightly at the sight.

“I can see why I liked you.” He comments and you swallow hard.

“Give me my memories back.” You keep your glare and he shakes his head.

“I know Thanos and I know how dangerous-”

“I don’t care. It was never your right to just take that away from me.” There was a pause, Loki dropping his head and finally giving in.

“Come here.” He gestures you over to him and he picks up your necklace. There’s a flood of memories and emotions and finally it ends. You fall forward and into his arms. It’s a lot of information to take in and your head aches from it. You breathe in his scent, earl grey and bright woods.

“How could you take that away?” You ask as you pull away from him. He smooths back the hair from your face, his eyes apologetic.

“I had to. To protect you.” His words are genuine but your anger doesn’t subside.

“It still wasn’t your choice! I’ve been walking around like a zombie for the last year, like I had a part of me missing!” You want to do nothing more than slap him. But you can’t. Not when he’s looking at you with tear strained eyes, mouth parted as if he were trying to think of something to say. You’ve managed to render the only man that’s always had a comeback speechless. “You’re the worst.” You whisper and Thor stands as a group of people start to walk in your direction.

“Hey! look it’s Thor!”

“Is that Loki?”

“Who is that with them?”

“You two should probably work this out somewhere else.” Thor said and Loki stands, lifting you with him with ease. You squirm slightly, a small fire of anger still lit in your chest. He sets you down. “I’ll keep them distracted.” He says, turning from the two of you with a wide smile.

“Hello, my Midgard dudes!” He says, arms out wide as if ready for photo ops.

“Did he really just say that?” You ask and look up at Loki. He rolls his eyes and offers his arm out to you as he had before. You take it without hesitation this time.

“We’re staying in this hotel here.” He gestures to the hotel that was right behind the two of you.

“Convenient.” You comment and he shrugs.

“It was Thor’s doing. He thought it’d be easy to,” You look up at him and tilt your head, “get drunk and stumble here.”

“Alone?” You ask and he sighs.

“You weren’t the only zombie, Y/N.” The two of you walk through the doors and head to the elevator. “Thor brought me here to try and get me to unwind. When I saw you tonight I was instantly attracted to you.” He ushers you into the elevator.

“I know. So was I.” You say, leaning back against the golden mirrored walls of the elevator as he hits the floor of his room.

“It felt like a deep longing for me.” He says turning to you and you bite your lip.

“I actually saw a flash of my last memory with you. But it was poignant in a way.” He tilts his head at your words. “I just mean. I could see my sleeve caught on a vine and I guess it makes sense. My mind would think back to you from time to time. I’d see you on the news and like a thorn catching, you’d stick there much longer than I thought was normal. When I saw you tonight, both of you in person, it was like I knew who you were but also, like there was a block on my mind. You two are famous. I’ve seen you millions of times but it was like there was a wall keeping me from seeing who you two were. It wasn’t until you spoke each other’s names that I realized who you were. You’ve got some heavy magic.”

“I’m sorry.” Was all he got out before the elevator dinged, doors opening. You walked out first and he followed behind. “It’s this one over here.” He says, and you follow. He slides his keycard in and a moment later you’re in the room. It wasn’t anything exceptional, standard hotel room. Brown carpet, beige bedding, wooden headboards, and those ugly pink printed curtains that somehow every beach hotel seems to have. The room was nice and cool, the AC was on full blast. You slip your sandals off and he follows suit with his dress shoes.

“You owe me an apology. Not only that but you have to make up for a year’s worth of time without having you.” You say as you take a seat on one of the double beds.

“What are you saying?” He asks as he tosses the keycard down onto the dresser.

“I’m saying that,” You look away from him and try to figure out just what it is that you really mean, “What you did was wrong. You should never have decided something for me without talking to me. Or no.” You look at him. “Never make a decision for me. I’m my own person and if I wanted to stay with you or leave you that’s my own choice. Also, if you wanted to break up with me, then don’t be a fucking coward about it. Tell me to my face.”

“No.” He closes his eyes and his head falls. “It wasn’t like that. I admit, I was scared for you. I thought this would have been the easiest thing. The least painful thing.”

“I don’t want easy. And this isn’t a movie, Loki. Don’t be so dramatic.” You reach out a hand for him and he takes it, sitting by your side. “I should still hate you for what you did. Honestly, it was a shitty thing. I’m my own person. Though, I do understand why you did it. I do, to a degree appreciate that. But Loki Odinson, if you ever,” You pause, emphasizing the word, “do something like that again, you’ll really know what it’s like to live without me in your life.”

“We can’t,” He stops himself reaching a hand up and cupping your cheek, “be together.” You bite your lip and nod.

“Is that what you want?”

“No. But it’s what must be done to protect you. I’m sorry I took the coward’s way out before.” He leans down and presses his forehead to yours. You look his face over, his eyes closed. You can feel it, this pull he has on you. You smile sadly. “I know I should not want. I know I should not feel. You claim you have no magic and yet I’m under your spell.”

“I could say the same for you but I know for you it’s true.” You say as you open your eyes, he pulls back from you just a little and looks down at you. “One more night.” You whisper and his face looks strained.

“It’ll make things harder.” He warns and you nod.

“No one ever said that life was a smooth road.” He leans down then and kisses you. His lips are almost as cold as the room and move yourself on top of him, straddling his hips. His cool hands slip under the hem of your shirt, his long fingers find their way to your bra and pop it off with ease. You part from him, lifting your arms over your head. His fingers trail over your body and slip your shirt and bra off. You gasp as the cold floods to your body, instantly your nipples harden and his mouth is kissing over your chest. His hands splayed across your back as your fingers dig into his hair, pulling out the bobby pins on either side of his head. His hair falls forward and tickles over your chest. You grind down against him, feeling the strain of him against his suit pants. He groans and a small whimper leaves your mouth as his mouth licks and sucks ever so gently your nipples. You inhale sharply, fingers hooking into the tie around his neck and tug at it, loosening it enough that it comes undone. You pull it from around his neck and toss it on the bed. He moves away from you then sliding off his jacket and tossing it to the ground before moving himself to the center of the bed. You crawl after him, straddling his lap once more. He’s fast at work on his shirt, undoing the buttons. You pull out the tucked in part and soon that’s discarded too.

“You just had to wear something hard to get off.” You comment and he grins.

“All good things take time.” He pulls you down for another kiss and in one swift motion you feel yourself being flipped. You’re now under him and his smirk grows wider. He kisses down your body, wet and sloppy. You can smell your perfume strong in the air, the warmth of your body releasing the scent more. He undoes your pants and wastes no time with getting rid of those along with your undergarments. It’s been a long year of emptiness. He sits up and looks you over. “I let myself forget this?” He takes you in and suddenly you feel self conscious. Your arms cover your breasts and you press your thighs together. “No, love, don’t.” He coos. His hands cup the backs of your calves and he kisses over your knees. “You’re gorgeous.” You open for him. His mouth kisses down your thigh, palms moving over your legs, pulling you apart. You close your eyes, head falling back. A gentle bite followed by a kiss, fingertips now, one hand pressing your hips down as the other cups under your thigh. A kiss on the track of your thigh and pelvis. You squirm slightly at the teasing. You can feel his grin forming. His tongue trails it now and you whimper.

“Loki,” You moan his name out and he squeezes your thigh. The hand at your hip slips down and teases your entrance.

“Say my name.” He say, his lips are over just where you want them the most. His voice sends chills over you.

“Loki, please.” You tilt your head up and look down at him. His green eyes practically glint with desire. You swallow hard, body trembling from want. His eyes close and his mouth goes to work, warm and soft. You moan out as he pulls a leg over his shoulder, his arm under your thigh, his hand curls to rest on your hip. His other hand, the teasing one eases a finger in. It’s easy as you’re already wet. He adds another finger and curls his fingers forward. Your hips buck up and he presses you down with the hand over your hip. Your hands find their way to his hair, gently tugging at it as you whimper and moan. His soft hair creates a blanket around your thighs and stomach, cloaking you from seeing his face. The soft tickles it gives you makes you buck up again. His movements quicken and you can feel yourself getting close. You tug harder.

“Loki!” It’s like the tide pulling away from the beach, you find yourself wading into the deep water, tide pulling you and finally like a cresting wave, your orgasm washes over you. You moan out his name again, a hand grasping the bed sheets as you try to turn your head away to bury it in a pillow. His mouth lifts off of you but his thumb replaces his tongue.

“Say my name, love.” His voice truly is like velvet. He reaches out and pushes the hair back from your face. You buck and squirm, the sensation of his hand still in and on you almost too much. Your hands reach out and grab his wrist.

“Loki.” You tried to get it to come out more as a warning but his thumb presses a soft circle and instead you moan it. He grins down at you, his hair falling over his face in loose soft waves. You glare up at him. “You’re the worst.” You growl and he rubs another circle and you gasp out a moan.

“Doesn’t sound that way, love.” He says, his fingers finally leaving you but his palm presses against the sensitive bundle of nerves and continues to rub. You reach out and pull him down by his shoulders, his hair falling over your face. You’re desperate for a kiss. “Give me a second.” He says, pulling away from you completely and leaving you on the bed. You sit up and glance at yourself in the mirror above the dresser, trying to fix your disheveled hair. You can hear him brushing his teeth as you reach over the side of the bed for your purse, pulling out one of the many condoms your friends had loaded into it. You rolled your eyes then but are grateful for them now. Loki finally comes back into the room, smirking at what you have in your hand.

“Was it really that bad down there?” You ask and he shakes his head.

“No, I see it more as a courtesy for you.” He says, laying on the bed next to you. While in the bathroom he had taken a moment to remove the rest of his clothing.

“I honestly don’t care.” You say, reaching out and trailing your hand down his chest. He may not have been broad and muscular like Thor but he was toned. His pecs and abs were pronounced, leading down to his Adonis belt. You bit your lip as your fingertips trailed lower. He took in a sharp breath. You could see his eyes fluttering shut. Every inch of him was perfect. You wrapped your hand around him and gently stroked, your thumb circling over the slit at the tip, spreading his arousal over him.

“Y/N, darling,” You stop and look up at him, “As lovely as your hand is,” You stroke over the tip with your thumb again, pressing a bit harder. He bites his lip, eyes flying shut again. He swallows, tongue licking his lips, “I want you.” He breathes out, hungry eyes opening, baring down at you. He takes you by the hips and pulls you on top of him. You reach out for the condom and he takes it from you. He rips it open and slides it on. You move yourself over him and slowly ease down, adjusting to his girth and length inch by inch. His hands rest on your hips, rocking you up and down on him. You have control but let him believe he’s guiding you. Finally, you take his full length and he breathes out. “It’s like getting in a nice warm bath.” He whispers up to you.

“I’m much better than a bath.” You rock down on him and his groans.

“There’s no doubt about that, Love.” His thumbs rub circles over your hips and you set your pace. His hips rock up in rhythm with yours. You grasp at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin. You don’t so much bounce as you grind up and down on his cock, enabling yourself to rub your clit over his pelvis. Your speed hastens and it isn’t long before that tide is pulling at you again.

“Oh, God.” Your head falls back over your shoulders and he sits up, his hands work your hips keeping the pace as you let the wave crash over you again. “Loki!”

“Yes, my love. You’re so beautiful when you come.” He says, letting you ride out your orgasm. He flips you like he did before. By instinct you wrap your legs around his hips and your arms around his shoulders. He thrust into you with hard long strokes. Your nails dig down from his shoulders and over his chest, leaving bright red marks in their wake. He groans and leans down, biting at your neck. Your breath hitches in your throat and he softly licks and sucks the spot. You rock your hips up harder and he holds your hips back, forehead falling on your shoulder.

“Did you?” you ask and his head shakes.

“No but if you keep that up I won’t last much longer.” You reach out and take his head into your hands, moving his head so that you can look up into his eyes.

“Don’t torture yourself. Just come.” You whisper, pressing your hips up into his, his eyes flutter closed and you kiss his forehead. It wasn’t long then before he came. You wrap your arms around him and he stays there inside you for just a moment, enjoying the peace of one another. Finally, he rolls off of you and discards the condom. You crawl to rest over his chest, his body temperature a good bit lower than yours. At the moment it felt incredibly good against your flushed skin. His fingertips draw lazy circles over your back and you bury your head in his shoulder.

“I love you, Y/N.” He whispers the words into your hair, pressing a kiss above your ear and you shiver from the smooth rasp of his voice, tingles breaking out over your skin.

“I love you too.” You whisper back, closing your eyes and drifting off to sleep, feeling him pull the covers up over the two of you.

It was the morning sun that woke you, cutting through the slatted blinds and hitting your face. You groan, pulling a pillow over your face. The room was quiet, save for the running AC. You perk up just then.

“He didn’t.” You sit up in bed and look around, sure enough, he did. You were alone. You rolled out of bed and grabbed your phone out of your purse. Of course there were a million texts from your friends asking where you were. You were quick to let them all know you were fine and you’d explain later. Going through your texts you see one from an unknown number. All it was was a link to a youtube video. You bit your lip and clicked the link. A Taste of Honey by The Beatles plays out from your phone. You smile, knowing it was Loki who sent it. You wrap yourself in a blanket and walk to the window, cracking the blinds and looking out at the sunny sky. You begin to toy with your necklace.

“I will return. Yes I will return. I’ll come back for the honey, and you.”

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