#the tight curly fries are the best

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

trouble, m | jjk

... aka, jeon jungkook’s dick is so good and your pussy is so heavenly that faith in humanity is restored.

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; a hookup turned awkward meeting at a goddamn McDonalds of all places; smut (fem reader, hair pulling, heavy making out, m-receiving oral, doggy, penetrative sex, fingering, m-masturbation); non-idol!BTS – ft best friend!Park Jimin being a wingman little shit classic

--

“Oh, I’m in trouble.”

Panic coursed throughout his veins.

“I can’t be here.”

And maybe a little bit of arousal too.

“Jungkook, this is a public place,” Park Jimin corrected him. “Anybody can be at McDonald’s.”

He almost got up from his seat, except he was boxed in a corner of a crowded fast-food restaurant and Jimin shoved the tray full of food right in front of his face. The other side of the table held various shopping bags full of things that Jimin thought his mother would like for the upcoming new year. Why did Jeon Jungkook have to be here? Well, he was the one guy from Busan who happened to be Jimin’s close friend and Jimin’s mother’s favorite friend of her son’s. Therefore, Jungkook obviously had to select something for Jimin to buy just so Jimin could say, Jungkook thought you would look nice in this cream sweater, thus gaining maximum best son points.

Yeah, Jungkook didn’t really get it either, but he was told that he was getting free food out of it.

Didn’t think it was going to be McDonald’s, though.

Also didn’t think that his fuck from last night was going to serendipitously appear, standing in line looking drop-dead gorgeous as she pushed the fur-lined hood of her coat back. Her lush hair spilled out in soft waves over the shoulders of that the black suede long-line stunner, far too much luxury for the city mall. And then there was her face. What god thought it would be funny to allow someone to look that effortlessly pretty bare-faced? Who put such sexy eyes on such a cute face? One glance and one would think, how cute with those dimples and pillowy lips, and then do a double take when the shape of those foxy eyes sunk in, holy shit, fuck me right now. Or, at least Jungkook had thought that. Still thought it, looking at her again in the daylight. Tight white top, heather gray sweatpants that didn’t match the lavishness of the jacket, and easy black-and-white sneakers, clearly everything thrown together to grab some food quickly while being a goddamn snack herself.

Jimin was carefully positioning Jungkook’s meal in front of him – fries, massive sandwich with both a beef patty and fried chicken patty, tall Coca-Cola and all, chatting away, and all Jungkook could do was gawk like an idiot.

Like he said, he was in trouble.

Tomorrow.

The ghost of her hand slid up his chest, caressing his skin while her voice curled by his ear, soft lips kissing down his neck.

I hope your friends ask about me.

The image entering his mind, the way she smiled above him, her skin alight from his mood lamp with specks of red light playfully dancing over her jaw, her fingertips tracing his muscle making his heart race, her soft thighs against his, smooth and sleek and making him insane.

The devil was in the details.

“Hello? Did you space out again?”

Jungkook jumped, startled that Jimin was glaring at him. “What?”

Those small hands stiffly pointed to the food spread before them. “Eat? Come on, it’s busy and we don’t want to take up too much time.”

“R… Right.”

He had about two seconds to take a bite out of his sandwich before Jimin casually asked in between bites of curly fries, “Oh yeah, you ran off last night with that sexy lady. How did that go?”

Jungkook choked.

-

That’s all I am, sex and shallow feelings, tch, what an idiot, acting like it was ever anything else, I don’t need anyone and I won’t need anyone, go ahead and act all high and mighty in front of your friends during the day, we all know you’ll be begging to crawl in my bed at night.

Mind a billion thoughts a minute.

You tilted your head and found yourself not that hungry. Still, some fries and a drink sounded good, so you picked that. Reached into the fur by your chest and pulled out your cardholder, tapping it to pay as you continued scowling in your head, trying not to let it show in the form of resting-bitch-face.

Ten minutes before this moment had been an annoying confrontation. You considered if you could have handled it better.

Or more savagely.

You should have pulled up all those messages you had left on read.

Sigh, but, no, you hadn’t thought of it. Ultimately, it wasn’t worth your time. It would have been a childish move. Why was that anyway? Why was it that you needed to be the “bigger person” and not be petty when some guy got all up in your face about you not wanting a relationship as his supposed friends crowded around in a circle around you two, clearly silently intimidating you? In public! Fuckin’ bum-rushed you on the street as if the showy dramatics would illicit shame or obedience. Yeah, because you were a woman who would just kill to be in a relationship, right? You scoffed internally. ‘Cause it was just so important to be in a relationship, more than, oh, I don’t know, actively not being in one that was definitely, absolutely gonna make you miserable?

Also, he hadn’t even been that good in bed.

“At least I am sex. You couldn’t even be that for a slut with as low standards as me,” was your frigid reply before walking away.

You couldn’t understand it. What was so great about relationships anyway? People only got into them for easy sex. A lotta work for a shitty time. You could get laid without the emotional baggage of another, thank you.

Although, sex probably wasn’t easy for people who acted like little bitches.

Hah.

You thanked the employee and accepted your food, wandering over to the drinks fountain with your paper cup. A basic day of running errands on your off-day now ruined by this bullshit. Nothing a little McDonald’s couldn’t fix though. Something about the nostalgia of hot, simple, cheap fast food made it more delicious. You probably should have gotten a sandwich or something, but you didn’t want to be too full and not want to do your errands after. Fried potatoes it was.

Hey, people called you sex, not the epitome of health.

You notched your finger on the tab and watched the honey-sweetened black ice tea pour out of the nozzle, which was the exact moment your intrusive thoughts popped up.

You avoid making deep relationships so that no one will notice when you die.

Thanks, brain.

Funnily enough, no one had ever said this to you. You would think someone would have noticed by now but, no, this was a revelation you made yourself once you were old enough to understand yourself better, and it came randomly while showering. Hmph. Goddamn showers. You slipped past a lovey-dovey couple to sit by the window counter, plopping down on one of the stools to munch on your fries for a bit. Alone. Some people wanted a lot of people to surround them. A sense of community and togetherness. Some people wanted a chosen few, valuing the quality over quantity. And some people were like you, loners who accepted who you were and that was NSFS – not safe for society – patiently waiting for the one that really understood you.

Or maybe there wasn’t anyone like you and you were just delusional about that.

Anyway, didn’t really matter. This kind of thing simply ended with thinking in circles. Sure, you could dwell on the whole question of existence, the why, but you had determined the more important was the who, the self within, and that wasn’t driven by the why. The who was driven by instinct.

If your instinct was to eat, fuck, sleep, repeat, then so be it.

Oh, and occasional responsibilities, like getting your tires rotated. Hence why you even outside today in the first place.

Hah, what a bother.

You munched on your crispy, hot fries and didn’t bother anyone. You learned not to expect too much out of people. They talked a lotta talk and didn’t walk much walk. I want this, this, and this, you heard a whole lot and nobody did it. A speech was all well and good, just not nearly as half as interesting as doing. And if you didn’t want to do it, you didn’t waste time beating yourself up over it. If that resulted in you only hooking up and avoiding relationships that you didn’t feel like committing to, then at least you weren’t disingenuous or fake.

Yup.

Looking out the window, you watched the people rush past with their shopping bags, linking arms with each other to avoid slipping on the sidewalk. Snow flurries falling down, down. The glass was clean enough that you could see inside the restaurant too. Tables with families and friends sharing simple, cheap fast food and turning it into a collective memory. Laughter and conversation echoed around your silence.

The looking glass showed you two ways.

You didn’t mind it, but it was evident you weren’t part of it too.

Hmmmm.

Your gaze stopped at a pair of guys. One of them was wearing a big black bucket hat. You noticed him because large brown eyes were actively staring back at you. Ogling, even.

What the–

You turned slightly and sat up straight with alarm as Jeon Jungkook stiffened and shifted, scooting closer to the person next to him, sneaking a not-so-subtle glance at you. You continued to look back in stunned confusion.

At goddamn McDonald’s?

Is no place sacred?

It was only less than twenty-four hours ago, but last night felt like another world.

-

Your fingers framing your face.

You licked your lips. Staring into his eyes, everything dark except for the mood lamp he left on. Cycling lights slowly drifted on the ceiling in a colorful haze. It was easy to remember all the shit people liked to say about you when you were alone, she’s so pretty but I hear she’s only into casual sex, what a shame, but you found solace in knowing that they had one fact wrong, because casual sex was for casuals and that was the wrong adjective to describe what you did.

Definitely the incorrect one to describe what transpired between you and Jeon Jungkook last night.

Your hand slipped from your cheek, and you touched his skin, bringing his face close to yours, keeping the whispers only in the air that you shared with those trembling lips.

“You’ve got cute eyes, but I bet you can be sexy when you want to.”

What was wrong with this? What was wrong with your comfort zone being someone else’s hands on your waist, pulling you closer? What was wrong with accepting the surge of power you felt licking the side of his mouth, adding slippery friction to the harshness of the metal rings pierced there, drinking in his moan as you teased him? It was just so annoying caring about all that noise trying to get to you, telling you to tone it down, telling you to stop, and, for what, don’t you have shame, that’s not how women should act, no. What they really meant was that was not how they would act. The consensus was to strive to be the respectable audience, always strive to fit in and be the quiet ones.

You envied their desire for silence.

Because you had to be loud.

You tangled your fingers in his long black hair and pulled his head back, running your tongue over his neck, tasting that skin and the anticipation vibrating in those muscles underneath. Admired the shivers under your body as you rolled into him, nice and slow and agonizing, whispering dirty things to him, things you wanted and none of it safe for work, finally bringing his head back down to nip at those gasping lips, intending on turning them pink and prickling with want, kissing him softly in contrast to the way you tugged at his hair every time he tried to intensify it.

“P-Please…”

His hands on your bare ass, hiking your dress up, digging his fingernails in, trying to keep his breathing even as desperation bled into it.

“You said to show you what I like,” you murmured. “I like teasing you.”

You pressed your body to his so your perfume would cling to his clothes, his bedsheets, his skin.

-

This was going to sound dramatic, but Jungkook was pretty sure last night she saved his life.

Actually.

That sounded very dramatic.

And kind of pathetic, so Jungkook kept that thought to himself, but nevertheless he kept that secret close to his chest, next to his racing heart that couldn’t seem to slow down, especially when her nails raked down his back while her tongue snaked around his, sucking on it lightly compared to the force behind her hands, the contrast between kiss and touch causing unbearable levels of arousal. He hadn’t expected a casual conversation to turn into this. He liked to think he was maybe charming, perhaps suave in some cases, occasionally daring, but he didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.

Casual sex could only stay casual if both people got the memo.

And Jungkook knew he didn’t want to get in too deep unless he was sure and the truth was that he wasn’t sure if he was ever going to want someone that much. It was fucking terrifying to be that vulnerable. How could he ever be “sure”? If he failed at his own goals, the only one he was letting down was himself. If his plans didn’t go as planned, well, that sucked but it was okay because it was only himself and he could do something about it. But getting his heart broken by someone else – ugh, what could he do about that? Worse, everything became so complicated when people didn’t say what they meant and didn’t mean what they say. It would be nice to experience the good stuff without the chance of getting his heart broken.

Cut out all that risky business.

It was a bit strange that this situation hadn’t felt like a risk. Of course it was, how was it not risky bringing a woman you barely knew to your apartment with the intent to make out and who knows what else, but, hey, the moment had felt right.

Or maybe it was the gods playing tricks on him.

But, anyway, her tongue wrapping around his balls felt amazing.

She pressed her soft lips to the sensitive skin and sent shivers through his legs as her fingernails dragged down his tense thighs. He hoped they left marks, or at least lingered for a few hours. Looking down, and those sly eyes were gazing back, like they knew exactly the effect they had on him. Sparkling when her name escaped his lips in a pleading whisper, glinting in the low light as her head tipped back and her tongue curled underneath his balls to lick that thin skin behind him, making him gasp and almost fall over, his palm smacking into the wall to hold him up. A jolt of radiating pain shot up his forearm, and then her hot, wet mouth surrounded him and swallowed his cock as deep as it would go.

He wanted to say he had made a sexy moan, but he was ninety-nine percent sure his neighbors were awake, so instead Jungkook whimpered and rested the crown of his head against the wall, feeling his hair stick to his face. Apparently, his embarrassing vocalizations didn’t matter though, because her head started slowly moving back and forth. Her eyes closed, humming steadily in satisfaction. His breath caught in his throat, forgetting all about the pain and instead drowning in the pleasure that rose like scalding steam. Ecstasy shimmered through every blood vessel in his body. Soft lips, swirling tongue, tight throat that closed in around the swollen head and pulsed, pulling him in deeper, and Jungkook could feel it, his cock twitching and getting harder, the insistent softness on the cusp of not enough, and yet so much was happening. Flexing wet muscle under the head every time she backed up, trapped in that warm sleeve, her cheeks sucking inward and drawing him deeper every time her lips pressed into his crotch, her graceful fingers fanning over his thighs and ass, stroking his tingling skin in time with her tongue.

Holy fuck.

Maybe it was dramatic that last night she saved his life by blowing his dick with such incredible skill, but Jungkook was sticking to this drama.

Wasn’t casual sex supposed to be wham, bam, thank you, next. Not, holy shit, my cock is so fucking deep in her throat I can feel her neck muscles flexing, but perhaps he had done some good deeds or this year was going to be extra prosperous in the sex front (it wasn’t a question that came up much among those elderly fortune tellers his mom visited, how odd). It had to be something like that, because how was he supposed to know the friend of a friend was going to be, one, hot, and, two, down to fuck, and, three, actually good at it?

And, four.

Readily manhandle him. But not in a threatening way. In an unafraid-to-say-and-get-what-she-wanted way. The direct, forward assertiveness was sexy as hell, but Jungkook wasn’t going to tell other people that he liked it when a woman took charge. That wasn’t exactly small talk. It didn’t come up naturally. He didn’t even tell the women he had previously slept with. It hadn’t felt like the right atmosphere. And, well, the sex was just okay. He figured he had to be careful in what he said when he wasn’t sure if they were going to be long term.

He had to cover his ass.

Speaking of.

Her fingernails sank into his ass and dragged down harshly as she tilted her head back. His throbbing cock slid down along the back of her throat, sending uncontrollable tremors up his chest and down his legs, pain and pleasure and perfection.

Jungkook slapped a hand over his mouth and let out a muffled half-scream.

She started focusing exclusively on the head, back and forth, running her tongue over it with her plush lips constricting the base, holy shit, and his eyes rolled back in his head, his hand falling, exhale thin and thinning out even more as he was reaching the end. It was too unexpectedly good, fuck, it made the muscles in his back tremble and his blood boil, o-oh, fuck, made his heart race and his calves strain with tension, I’m gonna c-cum, made his scalp tingle and his mind go blank with pleasure and he never thought an orgasm could be this intense unless he was the one getting himself off, but he was wrong, he was so fucking wrong, because he could feel the tightening in his core spiraling a bit too much and he was going to lose his fucking mind.

He gasped and screamed under his breath.

The high hit him like the sudden violent snap of elastic, so sharp that he was winded and able to feel the muscles of upper thighs spasm, shooting a rather impressive amount down her throat, almost regretful he didn’t pull out so that he could see how much it was, but none of that mattered, ensnared in wave after punishing wave of indecent, gratified lust flinching through his shaking, hard muscles as he felt his cum fill her mouth.

She swallowed.

Jungkook almost punched the wall, the oversensitivity almost painful, his hoarse voice on the verge of cracking.

“C… Careful…. P-Please…”

Those eyes flickering up, and she seemed to understand. Gently, pulling back just a little. He almost buckled at the sensation of the sucking lessening, such a good feeling but overwhelming in the afterglow, and then it was cloud-nine bliss, achingly perfect in the way she carefully slid his cock along her tongue, his twitching length gliding in the puddle of saliva and cum, repeatedly, soaring high like the moon, the thick viscosity creating a slick friction that was wicked heaven.

He wanted to say, oh, yeah, I lasted a long time after that.

He did not.

I’m in trouble.

He realized that the second she got on her knees on his bed, raised her ass, and turned her head back to smirk at him. Made direct eye contact as he tried to hide his gulp and put on the condom, keeping his hands low so she didn’t see them quiver. He was staring a bit too much, but she simply reached over and took his right hand, caressing his tattoos, and then he gasped as his fingers touched slippery wetness, looking down, and was he allowed to fall in love with a beautiful pussy at first glance or not allowed? Fuck, she even had a cute asshole. Was that too dirty to think or what?

Jungkook didn’t contemplate it too much as she slid his fingers into her, the soft, firm walls wrapping around him.

“Ready?” she hummed.

“Y- Yeah…”

In hindsight, he could have said much sexier things other than, yeah, but that was the least of his problems. Getting on his knees, sinking in, and he nearly blacked out with how good it felt. A steady controlled pulse surrounding him. Somehow, his cock became even harder, his fingers splaying out over the juicy curve of her ass, deeper, so tight, and it was all her, that cute face smiling back at him with the tip of her tongue tracing her upper lip. Naughty smirk widening, captivating foxy eyes filled with mirth shining in the darkness of his bedroom.

Jungkook didn’t even care.

He was just trying not to bust a nut at this excessive amount of sensuality that he hadn’t been prepared for.

“You look very sexy with your hair over your face like that.”

He hadn’t even noticed the strands of black covering his vision because he had been too busy looking down.

“Your back looks… oh, f-fuck… looks so beautiful…”

She grinned and lowered herself on his sheets to push back against him.

He had stuttered because her pussy had squeezed him in between his words. There wasn’t any time to be eloquent anyway, not with the sudden need surging through him at this improved angle, his grip on her hips tightening and thrusting his hips forward, wincing at how loud that smack was, surely someone outside heard, but there was nothing he could do about it, didn’t want to stop, couldn’t stop, sinking his teeth into his lower lip and trying not to add any additional noise, wanted to slow down but it felt so good when he was so deep, so tight and choking his shaft, the sensitive head of his cock rubbing against her walls and swelling. Even with the condom he felt so much, pressure and power and intensity, placing a palm on her lower back and groaning between clenched teeth, the arc of her ass so obvious and the bounce so visible that he would dream about it, all of it, the slaps of body to body, thrusting hard, rough, his ears tingling with her low, sexy moans, too good, felt too good, and he wanted to last longer but just couldn’t.

Threw his head back and yelled under his rushing exhale, straining to contain his cry in his chest.

Didn’t last much longer with a new condom and in missionary position either. He kept staring at her pretty face and perky tits, feverish desire racing with every slap of hips-to-hips, his hair falling into his eyes, struggling to see her hands clutching his pillows, and then she arched her back to give him a full view of those perfect, tasty-looking, hard nipples. Honestly, he was proud of himself for lasting the ten minutes that he did. Five minutes. Er, at least he hoped he lasted more than five minutes.

He was sweaty and gasping but he asked anyway.

“Sorry, I… Are you upset at me?”

She tilted her head, confused. “For what? That felt amazing.”

His face burned as he mumbled under his breath.

“I… I usually last longer…”

“Oh.” Blink. “Oh!” She grinned at him, and it was so devious that Jungkook realized this must not be the first time she had heard that. “I don’t care about things like that. But, uh…”

Her sex saved his life.

Her next words murdered him on the spot.

“You know, when you came, uh… I’m sure you were trying to be quiet and all that, but you sounded a bit like one of those faraway screams that happen in movies. You know, when someone gets thrown far away mid-battle. A very tiny, aaaaaaa…”

Not the best sex of his life comparing his orgasm noise to the Wilhelm scream.

-

You could admit it.

You shouldn’t have said that.

But also shouldn’t people be told of such things so that they became more self-aware? It took everything in you not to burst out laughing in his presence (although you did laugh a lot when you arrived home). And it wasn’t as if you were going to see him again. For a while, anyway. Definitely not the next day at goddamn McDonald’s.

Right?

Wrong.

You gawked at Jungkook until the other guy with him noticed and started staring at you too. Oh, jeez, it was Park Jimin, another one of the guys who had been there last night at the birthday party. You remembered him and his distinctive, bubbly giggling all night. He had a great voice too, making listening to karaoke actually bearable. He was, however, the kind of guy that wanted to be in the know about everything and everyone.

Aw, shit.

You weren’t ready for another repeat of this morning.

Jimin’s round, discerning eyes recognized you immediately even in your casual clothes and lack of makeup. You snapped your head back to your empty paper packaging. Snatched up your cup, pushing away from the window counter and stepping down, winding over to the drinks machine to top off on tea before sprinting it. Hey, McDonald’s wasn’t that cheap anymore. Inflation was a thing. Better get as much as you could before leaving.

You tossed the oily packaging and your napkin before turning around, immediately nearly colliding with Jeon Jungkook.

“Gah!”

“Oh!”

And he grabbed your waist.

Of course, he did.

Your bare waist, because you were wearing a crop top under your heavy coat.

You kept your drink-holding hand out of the way and gasped into his chin, your other hand landing on his left upper arm and squeezing, suddenly tense all over. It was hard and solid under your grip, twice as tense as you were.

“S-Sorry, Jimin pushed me…”

You vaguely heard Jungkook mumbling but you didn’t have time for this, didn’t have time to be let down again by humanity. Didn’t have time for Jeon Jungkook getting into your face about you fucking and dipping, scolding you about being too blunt, and possibly even directly calling you a bitch. Not that you didn’t deserve it. You just didn’t want to find out that cute-faced, criminally-undercover-sexy, surprisingly-a-very-good-fuck Jeon Jungkook could maybe be a shitty person.

Didn’t want to know.

Better not to know.

“S’okay. Let me get out of your way,” you mumbled back, turning your head away.

“You’re not in my way.”

You heard him say it, didn’t believe it, and yet his hands were still around your waist.

“Actually… Please be in my way.”

You froze.

Snapped your head back and found yourself centimeters from Jeon Jungkook’s face.

Oh, I’m in trouble.

He let go of you, slowly, his touch hovering as if you would make a break for it in the middle of this crowded McDonald’s, as if you would bowl over small children and their Happy Meals to escape, sending plastic toys flying in your wake. But you did no such thing, instead holding your breath, realizing how upset you would be if this was another you’re an insensitive whore moment. The truth was that you didn’t care until you did, or at least until you fully comprehended that you were glad to see Jungkook rather than completely indifferent. Why? He hadn’t said anything special. Just, please make it home safely. You had thought that was weird, please. Brushed it off as him being polite or even maybe trying to entice you with that light touch of submissiveness, anything but the possibility of him actually, honestly, straightforwardly caring about your safety.

You learned to expect people not caring for much except for themselves.

“I… Good afternoon,” you managed to get out, stepping closer as a crowd of kids squashed themselves against the drinks fountain, clambering over each other with their paper cups, yelling about how you snooze, you lose even though there was plenty of soda in a fast-food restaurant.

An adult, presumably a guardian, ran over to tell them to quiet down.

“Y… Yeah…” was Jungkook’s strangled reply, startled at you attempting conversation.

You held your sweet tea and tried to lightly bow, but realized that you could hit him in the chin if you did. You stepped aside to avoid that, and then his hand darted out. Stopping. Suddenly aware of what he was doing, stuck on what to do, looking at you helplessly for instruction. This was some love song or romcom movie shit.

No.

This was a goddamn McDonald’s, not awkward-sexual-tension meeting grounds. You grabbed his hand and pulled him along, spinning to find yourself crammed into the table with a grinning Park Jimin and too many shopping bags.

“Oh, hey. Funny seeing you here.”

Jimin was stifling his giggles.

You immediately let go of Jungkook’s hand, your face frozen and expressionless.

“Ah, Jungkook, can you watch my food?” Was it your imagination or did Park Jimin just bat his eyelashes? “I’m gonna go put the gifts in my car.”

Oh no.

“Stay right there!”

Jungkook looked mortified. “Jimin, wait–”

But he did not wait. Ruffled fluffy black hair, mischievous smile, and a whoosh later, those crinkly paper bags gone like a disappearing act, leaving you and your fuck of last night with a half-eaten sandwich and cold fries.

“I… He… I’m sorry,” Jungkook sputtered, jerking erratically.

You clutched your tea like a liquid social safety net. “Sit down. Children are staring at us.”

Sure enough, a small crowd of curious peepers were climbing the low half-wall and peering at you and Jungkook. They were being plucked off one by one by a pair of exasperated ladies who looked like they desperately needed a nap. As soon as one child was removed, another climbed up to take their place. Inquisitive little bundles in brightly colored jackets, pom-pom beanies, and sipping soda from paper cups. Jungkook whipped his head back, exposing his red ears under his bucket hat for half a second, saw the kids, and sat down beside you, turning his back to them.

Now even bigger peepers were directed at you.

“Uh…”

You cleared your throat. Drank some tea. “Erm.”

“I... I didn’t expect to see you here.”

You almost choked on your chuckle. “Yeah, uh… same.” You ticked your head to the outside, in the general direction Jimin had run off too. “Shopping for new year stuff?”

Jungkook shrugged. “Mostly for Jimin’s family. I usually shop online.” He scrunched his face with a little bit of dismay. “It’s too much on the weekends sometimes.”

“Yeah, I’m the same.”

Your knee touched his.

He looked at you.

Don’t look at me like that. I’m gonna want to kiss you.

“And we’re in the middle of a McDonald’s.”

“What?”

You could see stray strands of black brushing against his cheeks. Could see those starry brown eyes under that big bucket hat, those pink lips parted and that small mole underneath them trembling, something you had noticed last night even in the low light because you had been licking up his neck and watching his open mouth, savoring the way his whine travelled by vibration through your insistent lips from his throat.

“I don’t want to make out with you in front of all these children,” you clarified, letting out a slow, concealed breath. “But if you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to make a bad decision.”

People only get into relationships for shitty sex.

Right?

I want to be around him.

“Um… I think Jimin wanted to get an air fryer and who knows what else… I’m supposed to carry the big stuff,” Jungkook grumbled, sounding like he wanted to abandon his current adventure for a different kind of adventure. Still, he begrudgingly remained a good friend. “But tomorrow…?”

You weren’t sure if he was aware that he was getting closer to you, practically thigh-to-thigh and shoulder-to-shoulder, but then you put your hand on his coat sleeve. He froze up, holding his breath. He smelled good. Fresh and clean, like laundry from the dryer. He was close enough for you to clearly discern his scent.

Close enough for you to remember.

“I need to get my tires rotated,” you finally remembered. “I’ll call you.”

His cheeks flushed pink. “C-Call me?”

“Yeah, give me your number.”

-

She asked for it like it was easy.

Who cares? Jungkook determined, after all, that he was easy. Or at least his hands were hurriedly fumbling with his phone as he blurted out the numbers as calmly as he could, which was probably not that calm, but who cared? Not him and definitely not his dick.

“Thanks. Don’t forget to answer or I’ll feel dumb.”

“Wait, give me your number.”

She paused, glancing at him. Shivers all over when their eyes connected, and he was sure he saw a guarded flicker in those eyes, but then it was let go, her lashes lowering, casting away the unknown reservation that he hoped she could tell him one day. And yet she stayed silent, turning her phone over in her hand.

“I want it,” he breathed.

Her eyes shifted back up. Ghost of a smirk on those lips.

Like she was trying to hold back.

“I’m going to give it to you,” she whispered to him, and he had to lean in, no, wanted to lean in and the scent of her perfume caught him, sweet and smokey, all those memories flashing back, in the dark with fistfuls of his sheets and breathing in, his pillows, his blanket, his clothes, heavenly and arousing. “Just saying I come with a warning label.”

“What kind of warning?” Jungkook found himself asking even though he was desperate to indulge in this risky business.

“I’ll never let your last that long,” she purred with a smug smile. “Don’t give up, okay?”

Jungkook felt his cheeks burn as he typed down the number and kept his retort to himself because Jimin suddenly appeared and the conversation was abruptly over. He jerked his head away quickly as she mouthed a tiny aaaa under her breath, teasing him, and this was a bad decision but he answered the call anyway when it came.

-

What are you doing? You don’t do relationships. People don’t like the way you do things. They’re complicated and full of secrets. They can’t be honest. You’re too honest. It doesn’t work.

Your intrusive thoughts had worked the graveyard shift and were now doing overtime.

They don’t like you.

You weren’t that surprised at these thoughts. You also did the absolute most when fucking and probably not enough outside of fucking. Some would call this karma. You would call it a nuisance. Shut the fuck up, brain. You already knew all this. You knew and you muted all that sound, all that excess noise that warned of tomorrow being ruined, chose to shut it all out until there was nothing but the melody of Jeon Jungkook’s bated breath.

You could listen to your head and let those thoughts fuck everything up.

Or you could place your fingertips on Jungkook’s lower lip and feel his gasp travel through your nerves, feel the way your blood shimmered in your veins and raced faster. Caress that pink curve to stop at his lip rings, tangible, hard and soft juxtaposed. Breathe out, your eye line lifting, up, finding those large dark brown orbs surrounded by wispy black tendrils.

Jungkook wanted you.

That was pretty obvious, especially from his hands trying to slide up your skirt.

He was just waiting for you to start it off.

You could listen to your head or choose to feel and listen to your instincts, dangerous as it was.

I’m in so much trouble, fuck.

You knew it, and yet you leaned in and kissed him anyway. Something about him, the way his eyes instantly closed when you came close, the way he trusted your eyes wouldn’t stay open, the way his lips gave in to your insistence, no, yearned for it, his fingernails sinking into your hips and yanking you close, onto his lap and into his heat, and then it was darkness and tongue and breathing into his mouth, hot and unnerving and addictive.

You hadn’t even noticed you had closed your eyes until you felt your hands sliding into his hair. Barely even perceived how you held your breath when your chest pressed against his, gasping, too many clothes in between and all the anticipation, dancing your nails over his scalp and sucking on his tongue, his melodious moan melding with your heartbeat roaring in your ears.

What is this?

You rolled your hips into his lap and Jungkook groaned, breaking the kiss and tipping his head back, his hardness twitching between your legs, insistently pressing up through his sweatpants as his neck became exposed. And there was nothing you wanted to do but press your lips to that mole on his neck, tasting that tan skin and inhaling his scent, wanting to be covered in it, drenched in it, dancing kisses up his jaw and catching his ear with your teeth, tugging on his hair and rocking your hips back and forth, turning hot friction into hot, damp friction.

“I c-can’t…”

His moan rang in your ears, his fingers pushing up the sides of your panties and driving them into the crevice of your ass, creating a damn thong with too much fabric.

“Can’t t-take it anymore…”

Pulled hard and you gasped, feeling the slinky fabric slip in between your folds, soaked and soaking, strong hips knocking into that dug-in fabric and practically bouncing your pulsing pussy on his rock-hard erection.

You curled your arm around his head and tipped his face to yours, seeing his glassy eyes and open mouth, his shaking breath feathering against your chin, and if Jeon Jungkook was a liar, then he was a damn good one, one of those liars so deep in the lie that it started becoming truth.

He whispered your name in the shared air, between his and your trembling lips.

He’s too desperate to be a liar.

You closed the distance between lips and tangled your tongues in the tango, lifting your hips at the same time, smiling at his whine before silencing it by pulling his hand between your legs, pushing the thin fabric aside, and then the collective sigh. Yours, shivering satisfaction. His, driven desire, fingers exploring and sending shivers through your legs. Wet and slippery and soft. Pressing his face into your neck and then gasping when his soft lips pressed to your throat, light kisses and wanton need, his other hand sliding up your sweater, pushing it up.

I want you.

He slid two fingers into you and moaned into your skin, slow, pressing his touch into your clenching walls, his eyes closed under you. In, out, building pleasure, your hips following, riding his hand, deeper, intense, hard, his tongue licking your collarbone and your lashes fluttered, suddenly overcome by shivers.

“I w-want you…”

He gasped against your throat, almost a whimper, those pleading eyes half-opening. Pulling out slightly and rubbing slow circles that made your hips flinch, his fingertips brushing against your slick clit, and those brown eyes darkened, tipping his head back to watch your face. His fingers on your waist tightening, holding you in place, shifting his fingertips, and you bit back a hiss, locking your knees, staring back into his starstruck eyes that showed you everything he was as he stroked your clit, igniting all your nerves and scorching your skin in passionate flames.

You saw what Jungkook was saying.

He wanted you so bad, not just a little, not just for a couple orgasms, not just for every night but also every day, even every afternoon and every twilight and every dead of night. Every kiss, every touch, every look into the eyes telling you this meant more to him than casual and for some reason it didn’t feel like a burden.

Casual sex could only stay casual if both people got the memo.

Suddenly, you realized neither you nor him were getting the damn memo.

You leaned forward and breathed in his exhale, squeezing his hips with your thighs, harder, yes, so good, fast and harsh and closer, closer, pulsing sensitivity escalating, your fingers tangled into his long black hair, entangled moans slipping out, fuck, yes, I’m close, Jungkook, fuck, and he was good but this was more than skill, more than half-lidded eyes and your hand falling, tracing his jaw, biting back your orgasm until…

Until.

“I could stare at you forever,” you breathed.

Closed your eyes and moaned into his mouth, the high crashing down, leaking all over his fingers and causing his touch to slip, dripping down, everywhere, all over the front of his pants and down your legs, and there was no time to care, dragging Jungkook into kiss after kiss, driven by snaking pleasure coursing through your veins. His wet fingers grasped your thigh, kneading the softness, his whines trapped by kisses, begging for your legs against his naked chest.

How could you refuse him?

You just couldn’t.

-

I’m so fucked.

Truly, madly, deeply fucked.

Past in trouble and actually in danger, danger, you’re seconds away from cumming, clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth so he felt something else, anything, please, clutching fistfuls of his sheets and wondering why the fuck the condom wasn’t reducing any sensation because, holy fuck, his cock was trapped in a hot, slippery, tight sleeve that pulsed around his twitching, hard length every time he descended. He couldn’t think, could barely breathe, could do nothing but follow that carnal instinct to thrust over and over, deep as possible, the angle so good he closed his eyes so they didn’t roll back into his head even though he was hopelessly losing his mind at the sensations of her, so soft, so intense, so good his legs were shaking with tension, the rhythmic smacking obscenely loud, rattling bedframe echoing throughout his bedroom.

“H-Harder,” she gasped breathlessly.

Harder?!

Was she trying to kill him?

She lifted her hips and Jungkook knew he was fucked.

He threw all of his energy into his hips and sunk his teeth into his lower lip, his lip rings hitting his teeth. Metal hitting bone. Screaming in his head and tightening his vocal chords, thankful to see her eyes closing, her head tipping back, low satisfied moan of his name travelling to in his ears and then all that he was keeping together shattered and slammed into him, heat rushing and mind-numbing, euphoric high punching all the air out of his lungs, visceral tension snapping at his hips and now he was pumping the condom full, o-o-oh, fuuuuck, her walls shivering and amplifying the good feeling of sexual intoxication, his vision a blur, only now realizing all the sweat sliding down his back and forehead, his damp hair swinging down over his eyes, and maybe lasting a only a couple minutes but it was a damn good couple of minutes if Jungkook was allowed to say so himself.

He was panting, hardly able to catch his breath.

It wasn’t enough.

Fuck, he was so horny and he was barely recovering from his first orgasm. Didn’t know what came over him. A wave of insanity? Inconsolable craving? Willful sacrifice of his soul to the sex goddess in his bed right now? Dramatic, sure. Casual, no, pushing his palms against the bed, shuddering as he pulled out of that tight warmth, almost regretting it, but then he looked down. At the shiny slickness, his white cum swollen at the end of the condom. He gripped the opening and pulled down, peeling it off with a whine, and Jungkook was pretty sure he was overwhelmingly crazy or overwhelmingly horny or both, because why else would he scoot his knees up and start jacking his spent dick like a madman, whimpering at the sensitivity and the slippery friction and the scene before him – her legs lowering from his shoulders, those curious eyes glinting under him, her soft, bouncy breasts rising and falling rapidly in her heavy breathing, fuck, so sexy, so fucking sexy, faster, tighter, staring at those hard nipples he wanted in his mouth right now, so fucking bad.

He let his eyes flicker up.

Gasping, baring his depravity.

She smirked, her tongue tracing the edge of her upper lip.

“Cum on me, Jungkook.”

Words so simple that they could be said by anyone, but this was different, this was too much intensity, too much irresistible pleasure, too much too sure about this feeling, this moment, this connection, and then her fingertips slid up his hard, tense, trembling thigh, sinking her fingernails in and dragging down, those stings of pain sending him over the edge.

“A-Ah, fuck!”

His eyes rolled back and his hips pitched forward, flinching powerfully and shooting cum over her stomach, up her cleavage, sudden streak of white glistening against her skin, jolts of aching bliss penetrating his quivering muscles. Shared gasp, everything smelling like sex, his bedsheets, his clothes, his skin, mixing with her perfume. Sweet like candy and heavy like lust.

Jungkook wanted to douse himself in it.

Her cum and her perfume.

He pressed the dark, purple-red, swollen head of his twitching cock to her cum-covered stomach and moaned, dragging it across and slipping further and further into blinding oversensitivity, on the edge of too much but he liked it, fuck, he liked it more and more as he saw her sly smirk and foxy eyes sparkle, savoring his reactions. It made him want to give in to this side of him more.

Her hand lifted, fingers curling around his chin, stroking his lower lip with her thumb.

“You’re so sexy, Jungkook. I love the way you look at me.”

Something about the way she said it, making him feel that she really meant it.

No, know that she really meant what she said.

His heart fluttered. Took flight.

No.

Soared.

They really were such simple words, nothing complicated at all, and that was how Jungkook knew.

He was sure.

--

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #bts smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you

[tunafruitt]

--> || ❝ I’m The Favorite! ❞

Reverse! Isekai/SAGAU || Warnings: fluff, some crack :3, gender neutral reader

[ Reverse Isekai with the genshin boys !! A day out for the first time since they were somehow transported into your world… ] [word count: 1.9k]

Character(s): NEUVILLETTE, WRIOTHESLEY, ITTO, KAEYA, DILUC, CHILDE, KAVEH, XIAO, AL HAITHAM

“Your Grace, with all due respect… THIS ISN’T FAIR AT ALL!”

“I understand what you’re saying Venti but I can’t bring all 20-something of you outside… 8 people is already too much! An average friend group has around 3-4 people and I’m bringing double that! I promise I’ll take the rest of you out some other day.”

Hearing consecutive sighs of disappointment, you turn to look at the rest of the men. They were visibly upset. It’s not that you DON’T want to bring them all outside! Really! It’s just that some… or, most, of them have features that would stand out in a public setting. Take Gorou and Tighnari for example! Their ears could maybe be hidden for some minutes at a time using a hood or beanie, but what about their tails? Not to mention ITTO. He literally has the most red, obvious horns.

You did your best to make them look somewhat normal. Kaveh and Wanderer could pass as a normal citizen if you removed some accessories, but characters like Diluc and Neuvillette couldn’t. So it was up to you to dress them up! Yayyy!!!

No. This was NOT an easy job. Diluc’s bright red hair couldn’t be hidden no matter how hard you tried. Neuvillette’s long hair could maybe pass as normal... maybe. His horns though? I guess you’ll have to go with the “Oh! Why are they dressed like that? Well you see, my friends just left a cosplay convention a while ago. They look cool right? Yeah.” Excuse.

You gave them what you had left in your closet. What did fit them were sweats, loose pants, pajamas and some old shirts. It was odd not seeing them in their usual complex and pretty outfits. The buffer and more muscular characters looked (not surprisingly) attractive in your shirts… they were tight just around the right spots. They noticed your eyes in their direction with your face ever so slightly flushed, but decided to not say anything about it. ( THEY KNOW.)

─ִ━━ ꯭  ───ׂ─ִ─  ͜͡✿͜͡  ─ִ──ׂ──  ꯭  ━━ִ─

With the boys dressed up and ready, it was finally time to head out! The people you brought with you were: Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Kaeya, Diluc, Childe, Kaveh, Xiao and Al Haitham.

Xiao insisted on being the one to “protect you”. Denying his request felt awkward for some reason…

Kaveh had been interested in the simple and strangely large buildings cramped next to each other. You wouldn’t be so mean to deny his request to go see some of them in person right?

Al Haitham was interested about your world and wanted to learn more about it, maybe he’d find some books that weren’t all fiction and romance.

You’d feel bad if you only brought one Ragnvindr brother.. so you brought both. You also didn’t want to hear Kaeya bickering with Diluc about him going out on a “date” (it wasn’t.) with the Creator.

Neuvillette and Wriothesley look a bit intimidating so maybe they’d scare people off. Who would’ve known you’d have two scary looking men protecting and looking after you?

And Childe….. well he’s Childe. He was stuck to your hip.

You didn’t really know where to go.. The park? A restaurant? A supermarket? All of these options were a bit difficult since they’re usually filled with people. Of course, no matter where you go there’s likely to be people, but it’d be easier to not have to be completely and utterly aware of every stranger around you in fear that they might find out who the men you brought with you actually are. Your only option was to ask them if they had an idea or if they wanted to visit an area.

“Oh! Can we go to one of those food places you’ve talked about before? What is it called.. uh.. curly… curly fries..?”

“Jack in the Box. The name is Jack in the Box, Childe.” Wriothesley remembers every little thing you talked to yourself about when the only way they were able to feel you was through a screen. All of them would listen to you talk about a movie you watched, something funny that happened, or gossip that was spreading around your school or workplace. Anything.

You let out a small chuckle at their conversation. Their recommendation isn’t bad you think. All they’ve been eating is whatever you had back at home, since ordering takeout for more than 20 people would be wayyyyy too expensive.

So a fast food restaurant it is!

─ִ━━ ꯭  ───ׂ─ִ─  ͜͡✿͜͡  ─ִ──ׂ──  ꯭  ━━ִ─

The walk there was…. tedious. Childe was trying his best to not wander off, he really was! But there was so many new things he’d never seen before, so it’s not his fault. Neuvillette was probably the calmest out of everyone. He was right by your side following your lead. Maybe holding onto your arm once or twice.. on accident! (it wasn’t) Xiao was observing his surroundings a little too hard.. yeah this is all new to him, but I guess he was serious about protecting you. Though you didn’t really need it with 7 tall men around you.

“Mortals… The need for human interaction is what makes them weak.”

Diluc and Kaeya would not SHUT UP. If you passed by a bar, Kaeya would ask if he could go in, just for a second! He just wants to see how different they are from the ones in Mondstadt, really. Diluc would follow up with “You’re no better than that… that drunkard Venti.”

Kaveh would stop mid-street to look at the buildings...

“These buildings are so… long. How do they hold up so much weight? It’s impressive! What would they need so many floors for though… Why is there a man’s face as the logo in that restaurant? Oh! He’s glowing?”

“If you get ran over by one of those vehicles it’ll be your fault.”

“Huh? Al Haitham! YOUR GRACE! Wait for me!”

─ִ━━ ꯭  ───ׂ─ִ─  ͜͡✿͜͡  ─ִ──ׂ──  ꯭  ━━ִ─

The next problem was choosing what to eat. Ordering food for 8 people, not including yourself, was expensive. You knew that! But you didn’t mentally prepare for the bill.

“Oh god…”

“Your Grace? Is something wrong?”

“It’s nothing you need to worry about. Eat up! We can go somewhere else after this if you want.”

You had realized that a woman had passed by your table countless times. She was very obviously staring at the men, looking almost flustered? Oh, she must think they’re attractive.

……

SHE THINKS THEYRE ATTRACTIVE??!

Okay. Thats okay. As long as she doesn’t ask for their numb—

“Uh-uhm.. excuse me, sir. Can I have your number? Or.. just Instagram is fine too.” She was staring directly at Wriothesley. You should’ve known letting him go out in a tight shirt and loose pants would’ve attracted more people.

“Uhh.. Pardon me, ma’am. Number…? As in… prisoner number..?” The Duke had an obvious confused and conflicted look on his face.

“Huh?”

“Aha.. ha… forgive him. He’s taken! So he can’t give out his number to just anyone.”

“Oh.. S-sorry. Forgive me I’ll just— I’ll get going.“ She was very obviously embarrassed over this whole ordeal.

“What did she mean by number, your grace?”

“Don’t… don’t worry about it…”

The group of men began to eat. (Neuvillette ordered a cup of iced water and Xiao didn’t eat anything.)

“Your Grace, there’s some food on the corner of your mouth.. Here. Let me help.” As Kaeya was about to reach his hand and wipe off the food with his thumb, there was thud on the window next to your table. Huh? It’s Itto.

It’s Itto?

“WHAT THE HELL. HOW DID HE GET HERE!?” You whispered screamed as turned to Itto. Did he follow you here? Was he here this whole time????

Through the glass Itto was saying something. His voice was muffled but you could make some things out.

“Your Grace! Don’t let this… this BUFFOON touch you! I, Arataki Itto will volunteer instead!”

You let out a loud sigh. You had to go get him… imagine seeing a tall, buff man with white hair and what looks like horns with a black hoodie up against a restaurants window…

Yeah that looks weird from an outsiders view.

You signal to the rest of the men to follow you out. When you got outside you wanted to tell Itto to never do something like that again… but he looked so sad, almost like a kicked puppy.

“Sorry Your Grace… I just wanted to accompany you! I might have gotten a teenyyy tinyyyy bit distracted on the way. You never told me there was so many cool lookin’ beetles in your world! There was one that that was very small and red with black spots, probably not useful for beetle fighting though. And I also saw some… uh.. not to disrespect anyone but there was a really weird lookin’ dog..”

SIGHHHHHH. You started to wonder what would have happened if he really had gotten lost, or what if someone recognized him? The thought of losing one of the men scared you. Would you be to blame if one of them never made it back to Teyvat?

“Itto… I love you and everything, but never do something like this again. What if we never found you? What would have happened then? I think we should head back home..”

Itto was on the verge of tears. He’s had more beans thrown at him than he could count, but nothing ever hurt as much as this.

It took Itto a while to process that you had also said you loved him.

“M’ bad Your Grace.. I won’t follow you next time… but, I love you too Your Grace!!”

The men turned to him SO FAST?? Xiao was about to take his spear out, Al Haitham looked DISGUSTED. Kaveh and Childe’s jaws were wide OPEN.

“DUDE YOU CAN’T JUST SAY THAT!”

“Childe’s right, we all love Our Grace, not just you.” Diluc only said this because he wanted to be the one to say “I love you”, but you didn’t need to know that. If it was for anything else he would never agree with a harbinger.

“That doesn’t even make sense! Why can’t I love and appreciate our beloved Creator? You guys are all just mad that I, the Number One Oni, Arataki Itto, am Your Grace’s FAVORITE.”

“WHAT? NO! Your Grace is that true?”

How many sighs have you let out today? This must be a full time job because you just let out another sigh.

“No, it’s not. I love all of you equally! Don’t start any problems with each other in public, please… We should be heading home anyways. Look at the sky, the sun will set soon.”

Almost in synch, the men respond “Yes, Your Grace!”

Seeing them like this made you feel all happy and giddy… It was nice seeing them together with you in the picture. You smiled at them and they just stared. They waited for you to turn around before looking at each other almost competitively. It was clear that each and every one of them wanted you for themselves in some way.

─ִ━━ ꯭  ───ׂ─ִ─  ͜͡✿͜͡  ─ִ──ׂ──  ꯭  ━━ִ─

It was finally time to head home!!! After one long and exhausting day, you finally made it back.

The rest of the men were waiting patiently for you (Venti, Wanderer, Lyney and Heizou had to be held back by Albedo, Dainsleif and Pierro.)

“*SNIFF* AUGH.. YOUR GRACE! *SNIFF* WE MISSED YOU SO MUCH!”

“Hi, Venti… I missed you all too..” Venti’s arms were wrapped tightly around you, while he cried onto your shoulder.

“Your Grace, you’re here!” Thoma looked.. tired. Just what happened while you were gone? You decided to ask just incase.

“Hi Thoma, and everyone else. Did anything happen while me and the others were gone?” You had a gut feeling that something happened… they were unusually quiet… too quiet.

“A fight broke out between The Puppet and Cyno.”

“WHAT??”

AAAAAHHHHHHH thank you so much for 200 notes on my last fic omg y’all got me giggling to myself and spinning in my bed stop.. First long fic!!1!1! I plan on making little comic based off of the “The Creator has a.. LOVER?!” fic with the Zhongli and Venti scene with reader!! Yayyy! I Hope u guys enjoy this AUGH it makes me so happy to see people liking my noob writing thats really just me writing my thought and daydreams ilyily

#genshin impact #sagau #genshin x reader #sagau x reader #neuvillette #wriothesley #kaeya alberich #diluc ragnvindr #kaveh #xiao x reader #genshin #x reader #gender neutral reader #yayyy

[solsticethebatearedfox]

Bad Kids Food + Cooking Headcanons

Adaine

Before moving in to Mordred, she couldn't cook for shit. Her family had unseeing servants and stuff and it was assumed she would never need to know.

Eventually Jawbone, Lydia and Sandra Lynn teach her. She begins to love it - it feels similar to ritual spellcasting for her.

After the Nightmare Forest, she starts cooking and baking with Aelwyn. They make a mean black forest cake together. It's great bonding time

Kristen

Is better with camp food than regular food - made it at church camps a lot

Also had to cook for her siblings constantly (we stan parentification :/) but for the most part it was chicken nuggets and microwaved corn kernels and whatever - easy, processed meals

However, her mother insisted she know how to cook because when she had a husband and children it would be her job. So she would often make roast meals and big servings of chicken corn soup to freeze for the week

To this day she hates cooking - it brings back bad memories and feelings.

Fig

Much like Kristen, better at camp food (ie. ranger meals that Sandra Lynn taught her)

She kinda knows how to forage and hunt but not as well as Sandra Lynn would like

She loves baking but has little patience

Her decorating skills are non-existent but she tries

Fabian

My man can't cook for shit, like at all. He can't even make a sandwich. Cathilda tried to teach him but his parents would often intervene so he never had the patience to learn.

Riz

Riz would be a good cook if he knew how. Unfortunately Sklonda didn't have the time to teach him or the money to buy ingredients for him to learn. She did what she could - he at least knows sandwichs and pasta and rice and very basic staples - but he couldn't tell you how to cook steak

After the Nightmare Forest, Sandra Lynn teaches him how to forage and hunt. He takes to it far better than Fig (he has more patience for it)

Gorgug

Other than Adaine after season two, Gorgug is the best chef of the bad kids. Ain't no way Digby & Wilma were letting him not know how to cook.

He likes baking too, but mainly does things like slow cooker stews and pulled pork sliders with homemade curly fries.

He enjoys seeing the delight on his friends' faces when he makes them food

Honorary Bad Kids

Ragh is in the same boat as Adaine - didn't learn until after Jawbone was in his life. After he worked through his issues, Ragh got really close to Lydia via learning how to cook. Now he often cooks with Gorgug, making BBQ dinners together for their families

Ayda doesn't know how to cook. Past iterations might have but this one doesn't. She has Garthy after all. But she does enjoy baking with Fig or Adaine (and sometimes even helping Gorgug or Ragh)

Tracker knows how to cook, Jawbone taught her. She learnt how to cook on a tight budget, and how to forage and hunt. She and Sandra Lynn bonded over that

Aelwyn is the same as Adaine, never knew until after the Nightmare Forest. She gets really into it, especially baking, making perfect macarons and puff pastry. It's escapism, but she doesn't always have the spoons (it takes a lot outta her)

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #dimension 20 fantasy high #it should be junior year spoiler free #but it has #fhsy spoilers #riz gukgak #fabian aramais seacaster #fabian seacaster #figeroth faeth #fig faeth #adaine abernant #adaine o'shaughnessey #gorgug thistlespring #kristen applebees #the bad kids #ragh barkrock #ayda aguefort #tracker o'shaughnessey #aelwyn abernant #sandra lynn faeth #jawbone o'shaughnessey #lydia barkrock #sklonda gukgak #digby thistlespring #wilma thistlespring

[jordie-gvf]

more to love, josh kiszka

this is for my plus size ladies! i wrote this from experience!

friendly reminder that if ANYONE needs someone to talk to, that I am here.

warnings : bullying, language, being the overweight best friend, crying, smut, oral f rec

word count : 1.4k+

pairing : josh kiszka x plussize!reader

There was no denying that you had been bigger than most women. There was no thigh gap, you had flabby arms, you had love handles, you had always been big. 

Josh never saw it as big. He viewed you as more to love. He loved everything about you. He loved falling asleep on you, he loved wearing your clothes, he loved grabbing your thighs, he loved you.

You, Josh, Jake, and Rachel had gone out. Rachel and Jake had been together for a little while shorter than you and Josh had. Jake and Rachel met through you. She was your best friend. The skinny best friend, the one who was always the spotlight. 

You walked into the restaurant and saw Rachel, dressed in a tight red dress, hair done, perfect nails. Perfect body, perfect hair, perfect nails. Everything about her was perfect. 

You and Josh sat down at the table and ordered your drinks. “Don't you think you should lay off the sweet tea, hun?” Rachel said. You looked at her astonished, “Excuse me?” you asked her.

“I said, are you going to lay off the tea? That shit is so bad for you, no wonder why you look like that. Your thighs look fucking huge.” she repeated. You looked at her, mouth hung open. Josh looked over at Jake and he was looking over at Rachel, surprised.

Your drinks came over and the waitress asked if you were ready to order food. You hadn't eaten anything yet and Josh knew that. “I will take chicken tenders and fries with ranch. What do you want, love?” he asked you. You shook your head and said, “I'm fine.” He shook his head and said to the waitress, “She’ll take the same, thank you.” He turned to you and said, “You have to eat, hun.” You shook your head and got up from the table. 

You went to the bathroom and locked the door, looking in the mirror. You took one look into the reflection of your own eyes. “Why didn't I come out like her?” you said to yourself, getting teary eyed. Your hair had been curly and shaggy, just like Danny’s. Your outfit was a blue sweater with jeans and white shoes. Your nails were just pink with a heart on your middle and ring fingers.

You ended up in the bathroom corner, head in your hands, crying. The door knob jiggled and in came the bartender. She had been one of your best friends in high school, before Rachel. She witnessed all the harsh words Rachel had said to you in high school.

“Y/N, is that you?” Michelle asked you. You nodded and she got down on the floor with you. “Come on, why are you crying? Don't tell me it's Rachel, again?” She asked you. You nodded and she sighed. She moved next to you and put her head on your shoulder, comforting you. 

Michelle was at your wedding, she was your maid of honor. “You have one thing she doesn't, Kiszka attached to her name, you do. She doesn't have that beautiful ring on her finger.” she said. 

You looked down at your left hand and saw your ring. Josh had picked out the most beautiful ring for you. You heard a “Mama? You in here?” 

Josh. You had left him at the table, alone. Michelle opened the stall and in walked Josh, your purse, a to go bag, and a sweet tea in his hand. He stuck his free hand out and said, “Come on, let's go home.” 

He helped you up and you hugged him. Knowing that's what you needed in moments like that, he put everything on the floor and hugged you back. “I know,” was all he had to say. 

You two got home and you grabbed your purse out of the backseat. Josh grabbed the food and put it all out on the kitchen table. He poured your tea into your favorite cup and added lots of ice. He sat back down and said, “You weren't there, but Jake and I told her what she said was wrong. He wouldn't let me cuss her out.” 

NO ONE'S POV

“Why would you say that to her? You know she has problems with her body image, what the hell is wrong with you?” Josh scolded Rachel. “Yeah Rach, I mean seriously. Did you really need to say that to her?” Jake agreed with his brother. Rachel looked over at Jake and said, “Well I'm not wrong. She's slowly killing herself. She needs to eat healthier and go to the gym.” 

“She goes to the gym! She eats salads every night for dinner! She eats salad and then goes to the gym, for hours on end. I saw her in the mirror the other day, grabbing her thigh and making it look smaller, saying “My body is my body, there is nothing I can do.” So fuck you. She wakes up at 3AM, starving cause all she eats is fucking lettuce and doesnt eat anything to support her needs. You know what she needs, is a fucking support system! She needs someone to understand how she feels. You've been her best friend since college and this is how you treat her?” Josh said and stood up from the table. He looked at his little brother and said, “Your bitch needs a leash.” and walked away. 

He went to the bar and told them to pack the food to-go and if they could add a large sweet tea. Jake came over and said, “Tell Y/N that I'm sorry.” Josh turned to him and said, “It's not you who should be apologizing.” 

He got the food and walked into the bathroom and saw Michelle and Y/N in the stall together.

Y/N'S POV

You and Josh had eaten dinner and went upstairs to get ready for the night. You showered together, but Josh finished first. He set out clothes for you and got into his pajamas. He laid down and waited for you to finish in the shower.

You came out of the bathroom and saw your clothes sitting on the edge of your bed. You saw your favorite lotion sitting on the bed. “Can I put it on for you?” Josh spoke up and asked. You nodded and he let you sit down on the bed. You put your cami and panties on but left the pants off so he could rub lotion on you. 

“Look at that beautiful ring, it shines just like you.” he said. You blushed and reached down for a kiss. He laid you down and moved down to your legs. He rubbed your legs and said, “Can I take these off?” and played with the waistband of your panties. You nodded and he said, “Let me hear you say it.” 

“Yes Josh, please take them off.” you told him, growing impatient. He pulled them down and said, “Look at that, Mama. Why’re you all wet, baby?” You kept silent and let him work his magic. He rubbed your thighs and said, “I love your thighs, especially when my head is buried between them. Keep my ears warm, baby.” and put his head between your legs. 

He attached his lips to your clit and wrapped his arms up under your ass, resting his hands on your ass cheeks. He nuzzled his face closer into you and you felt his tongue dart in and out of you.

He continued his assault on your pussy, never slowing the pace of his tongue. He removed one hand from you and attached his thumb to your clit. You sat up on your elbows and looked at Josh. He looked up at you, lower half his face no longer in your sight. He flashed his pretty brown eyes at you and sucked harder on you.

You laid back down and threaded your left hand into his hair. He moaned into you when you tugged on his hair a little. His hair had gotten caught on something, so you looked and saw your ring, snagged in his hair. You pulled your ring out of his hair, which caused his head to jerk forward. He moaned into you and licked faster.

After you had finished, he kissed up your body and focused on your stomach. He laid his head down on you and said, “I love you and your perfect body. It's just more to love.”

#josh kiszka x reader #josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka fluff #josh kiszka #josh gvf #josh kiszka smut #greta van smut #greta van fic #greta van fluff #greta van fleet fic #gvf fic

[wardenparker]

Couch for Four

Dave York x Carol York x female reader x Quinn McKenna Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: General audiences, but this blog is always 18+! Word Count: 6k Warnings: MMFF poly fam established in the fic Table for Four . Just a lil bit of fluff about PMS/PMDD. Talk of menstruation and some folks day dreaming about possible future pregnancy. Just a whole lot of fluff and Super Care Taker Dave.  Summary: When your PMS kicks in early and angry, Dave steps up to make sure you’re taken care of and comfortable. Which includes making sure Carol and Quinn are in on the plan.  Notes: I’ve been dealing with horrible PMDD for an entire two weeks now and Keri is an angel who helps me daydream about being taken care of when I feel bad. That’s all, that’s what is here. Pure self-indulgence. 

It started last night, which was inconvenient but not the end of the world. Quinn was out with Carol last night and Dave was having Daddy-daughter night with his kids, so you had curled up on the couch and eaten a parsed together dinner of sad, small amounts of various leftovers, a half a Taco Bell quesadilla, a bowl of that amazing soup from the bistro down the block, and the rest of that bag of kettle corn from the vendor at the farmer’s market. It was by no means gourmet, but there was no one there to witness it so you just popped on Dirty Dancing Havana Nights for the eightieth time because you don’t care if the sequel isn’t as good, you just like to watch Diego Luna dance. Last night was not a problem. It’s this morning that’s the problem.

No amount of coffee in the world can bring you back to human when PMS wallops you out of nowhere like this, so your makeup feels painted on and your clothes feel too tight in awkward places. The breakfast sandwich that you ate on the drive to the office has somehow only made you more hungry and that has you unconsciously pouting at your desk in between phone calls and managing Dave’s many responsibilities.

You’re not getting as much done as you’d like to when you’re denying yourself the bottle of that new Sprite Lymonade – which you’ve become obsessed with – that you have stashed in the break room fridge with your name on it. You’re going to eat the goddamn salad you packed for lunch and not order a crab cake BLT and curly fries from the sandwich shop across the street for lunch. You’re going to get through work and be fine. You’re going to be normal. And only after accomplishing that will you allow yourself to go home and cry over more rom-coms and isolate yourself from your partners for a few days so they don’t worry about you.

When Dave walks into the office, he immediately knows that something is off-kilter with you. Instead of the bright, beautiful smile that signifies that you are excited to see him, your face is slightly sagging. Indicating that you aren't feeling the best and the wane, almost watery smile a dim ghost of your normal greeting. The double shot latte in his hand had been for him, but he sets it down beside your computer and smiles. "Good morning, sweetheart." He murmurs softly, figuring you might be battling with a headache or maybe even those head colds that seem to be running rampant around the office.

“Good morning.” In an effort not to have him worrying, you refocus on your computer like you’re already busy at work. “There is one phone message on your desk and you have a team meeting at 10. Any special instructions this morning?”

He frowns slightly, normally the first five or ten minutes of his day with you is spent chatting about more than instructions or messages. Something’s off with you and he wonders if you are upset that Quinn and Carol went out last night. “Nothing at all sweetheart, I know you have my schedule set for me.”

“Of course.” The electronic calendar containing his business obligations is meticulously micromanaged regardless of how crappy you yourself might feel.

“Are you alright?” He frowns slightly, shuffling closer as you pretend to be engrossed in the screen. “You aren’t upset I was with the girls last night, are you?”

“What?” It breaks your heart a little that he would even think that and you shake your head immediately. There aren’t many people in the office yet so you can reach for his hand and give a quick squeeze without fear of being spotted. “No. I’m just not feeling one hundred percent myself today. I’m fine, I promise.” That’s putting it mildly, unfortunately, but you’re a grown ass woman. It’s not like this is your first time with PMS.

“Okay.” Dave believes you, knowing that you aren’t one to lie to him. “If you need to go home, you know you can.” He doesn’t want you here if you need to be resting.

“I know.” He would never make you work if you needed to be home, probably much more lenient with you than he needs to be because he does care about you. But by the same token, caring about him is part of why you work so hard. “It’s…” There’s no use hiding anything from him. Dave York is not a man that anyone can keep secrets from. “It’s just…the usual.”

Frowning for a moment, his eyes drop down to the calendar and then he understands. “Oh.” He murmurs softly. “Okay. I understand.”

“Nothing to worry about,” you promise him. Even if it’s hitting early and hard this month, it’s still just the same old stuff that you’ve been dealing with since middle school.

He knows that’s not exactly true. Your periods seem to hit you more severely than Carol. She had explained it to him once, and Dave had been appalled that you had to go through that every month. So of course he would worry.

The fact that you have to leave your desk twice before his meeting to ride out a crying spell in the bathroom isn’t ideal, but hopefully he didn’t notice. The coffee he left you also seems to have heightened your anxiety, which only makes things harder, but it can all be managed. You worked at the fucking White House. You can handle anything. At least, that’s what you remind yourself when you’re staring at your own red eyes in the mirror on bathroom trip number three.

Dave kept his door open, watching as you leave your desk for the third time and he sighs. Standing, he walks out and to your phone to pick it up and forward the calls to his handset. Bypassing the need to have you screen his calls for him. It’s clear that this isn’t a normal day for you and he won’t treat it as such.

The blinking light on your desk phone when you get back again makes you frown, and you feel like you should be tucking your tail between your legs when you knock gently on Dave’s door and nudge it open. Apparently, you’ve been so out of it that you didn’t even realize it was cracked open. “Mr. York?” You’re formal because the other assistant in this section of the office is a busybody. “Is there a problem?”

Dave looks up from his computer and motions you to come inside. “Come on in and close the door, sweetheart,” he murmurs quietly so that only you can hear him. “No problem that can’t be fixed.”

“I’m sorry I had to step away again.” His door clicks shut behind you and you brace yourself for him to be upset or at least disappointed – which everyone knows is worse. But he is generally an understanding boss and he’s an attentive partner, so the best you can do right now is wait to find out if you’ve finally tested him too much and hope that that isn’t the case.

“You don’t need to be sorry.” Dave pushed back from his desk and pats his thigh. “Come here, sweetheart.”

The pinpricks behind your eyes are immediate, and before you can stop them they’ve boiled over into full-blown tears with messy, garbled “I’m sorry”s hiccuped in between. There’s just no way in hell that you can manage sex right now. Not emotionally or even physically – cramps having kicked in finally and joined that unwelcome cacophony of symptoms.

“Hey, hey.” Frowning, Dave immediately stands, rushing over to you to pull you against his chest. “What’s wrong, baby? Talk to me.” No clue why you started crying when he wanted you to sit on his lap, he’s a little alarmed at how you are reacting. Normally you love sitting on his lap at work, though he doesn’t want to have you sit on his cock this time.

“I just—I’m really sorry—” The game is now about keeping your voice down so Fran doesn’t hear you crying from outside the door. “I can’t today. I know it’s usually not a big deal but I just don’t feel up to it.”

“What?” He shakes his head, curling you into his chest a bit more. Protective of your feelings and wanting to provide you with comfort if you need it. “No, baby, I didn’t want sex. I just wanted to hold you. Nothing more.” He promises softly.

Good job dumb ass. The voice in your head chastises immediately, though you don’t move an inch from the safety of his arms. Always gotta assume the worst. “I’m sorry,” you murmur again, softer, this time apologizing for misunderstanding. “I guess I’m a little less myself today than I thought.”

“Don’t be sorry.” He had just wanted to hold you on his lap while he worked, but now he guides you over to the sofa in the corner of his office. “I have my sweats here. Do you want to get out of your tight skirt and pantyhose?” He offers.

It would be better. You know that. It would be so much more comfortable. Dave’s sweats and workout clothes are always soft and worn in, usually the kind of thing that you would jump at wearing if the situation arose. Carol does too, and sometimes you twin it in her husband’s clothes when you spend the weekend at their house. “That…” You’re nodding even as you protest. “That would be noticeable…I’ll just say I spilled coffee on my skirt, I guess.”

“You’re going to stay in here.” Dave tells you. “I’ve already set up the heating pad.” He uses it for when his back hurts or the ache and pains that come with his job, but he knows how much Carol depends on her heating pad during her periods. “And you can sleep or read or just watch me work.”

“I don’t understand.” Probably more than a little dense from all the fog of mood swings, you feel completely dumb when you just look at him like a lost puppy.

“You aren’t feeling good sweetheart.” One hand slides down to caress your stomach. “If you won’t go home, you’re going to let me take care of you.” He prefers that actually. “I have a drawerful of your favorite snacks and no more pressing meetings today.”

You really could cry all over again, both of your hands clasping over his on your middle. Sometimes you swear he gets moony over the idea of having more kids around, but he knows that’s not in your life plan any time soon. “You’re an angel, you know that right?”

“Gotta take care of my girl.” He leans in and nudges his nose against yours. “If I don’t, Carol and Quinn will have my hide.” It’s more than just the other two being annoyed with him, he wants to take care of you. Wants to make sure that you know you are loved and supported. “You want one of those Sprite Lymonades from the fridge? You’ve been drinking a lot of them lately. I can go grab one while you change. Or some tea?”

“Those stupid sodas are so good.” Slumping a little against his side, you tuck your face into the crook of his neck and sniffle quietly. “I really appreciate this, honey…” He knows you’re never off your mark like this at work. So much so that he had no idea your periods and the accompanying symptoms were this bad until Carol had told him.

“I’ve got you.” He promises, sliding his hand around to your back and squeezing you slightly. “You go change and I’ll get you all set up for your much needed day of rest.”

He strides out the door a moment later with confidence and you snatch your purse out from under your desk to be able to have your phone and book on the couch in his office. Dave keeps his spare clothes and gym clothes in the small cabinet under the windows of his government issued office and you slip out the nondescript gray sweatpants and t-shirt that Carol got him on vacation over a decade ago. Exchanging your own clothes for his is like being wrapped in a warm York-family hug and you tuck your heels in next to the couch with your purse so you can lie down. Your partner’s clothes, a heating pad, and a book. This is the closest to comfortable that you’ve felt in two days.

If people are surprised that Dave is in the break room, they don’t show it. Most often you grab his coffee, but he fishes out his wallet to grab a couple of dollar bills to feed into the machine. He knows you will fret about not taking care of him since this is your job but Dave is a believer that as your boss and your lover, it’s also his job to take care of you. He punches the button for your desired drink and listens to it rattle around before dispensing the bottle of cold lemon-lime soda.

The electric blanket is tucked neatly against you when Dave comes back in, and you offer him a soft smile and a "Thank you" for the soda. "I'm just going to shoot Quinn a text and then order your lunch, and then I swear I'm off duty for the rest of the day." What you're actually doing is canceling on Quinn for tonight, but you'll just tell him that you're under the weather. He won't mind – it's not as though you had anything really planned. It was more of just an agreement to meet up for dinner and then see where the night took you.

“Don’t worry about that.” Dave shakes his head. “I’ll order lunch.” He promises. “Now. Do you want Oreos, a Twix, a Snickers, or the pack of those chocolate chip cookies you like?”

"You have my cookies?" Not expecting that in the least, since you had discovered them originally at a gas station of all places, you pause in writing a message to Quinn and lift your head. "You tracked down my stupid convenience store cookies?"

“I tracked down your stupid convenience store cookies.” He grins, walking over to his desk and opening the bottom draw to pull out not one, but two packs of the cookies you couldn’t find anywhere else.

“Daaaave…” There are the tears again, barely pushed back as you take the packages from him and stand up to give him a tight hug full of gratitude. “You’re so good to me.”

“You deserve it.” He promises you, kissing your hair. “Now I want you to let me know if you need anything else, okay?”

“I’m all set.” The salad you brought will keep until dinner if you eat cookies for lunch, but that has to be some kind of nutritional balance, right? “Thank you honey.”

“Of course, sweetheart.” He pulls out the blanket he sometimes uses when he’s too tired to go home late from a mission. Winking at you as he comes over to spread it out over you. “You just sit on your heating pad and look pretty.” He murmurs. “And cry if you need to. I won’t be mad about that.”

“Trust me, I won’t be able to stop myself from the way the day has been going so far.” You roll your eyes at yourself and give yourself permission to indulge in kissing him. It’s not like you haven’t done much worse on this couch, after all, but it means that you’re distracted enough to not hear Dave’s phone go off at his desk.

Once he kisses you and you are settled back against the cushions of the sofa, Dave makes his way back over to his desk. He picks up his phone and reads the text message from Quinn.

From SpaceCadet: Is she okay? She just canceled plans tonight. Said she wasn’t feeling well.

With your soda and your book you don’t even notice the way Dave’s face pinches when he looks down at his phone, finally letting your work brain turn off so you can just let yourself be distracted.

He glances over to you and starts typing out a reply. Having a bad day with her period. She’s been crying all morning. Got her camped out on the couch with a heating pad. Swing by her place and get a change of clothes and come to the house? I’m going to take her home.

From SpaceCadet: Copy that. Taking a half day and hitting the grocery store on my way there. Cooking for four or six?

Dave smirks at the reply, the girls love Quinn and he’s taken to them easily. Six. The girls are on a hot dog tear.

From SpaceCadet: Steaks for four and hot dogs for two. See you tonight.

There aren’t a lot of foods that Quinn has mastered but he can definitely feed kids and he makes a hell of a good steak. And since you had been showing him a thing or two or three in the kitchen he had really taken a new liking to cooking. So whatever he does, it’s almost guaranteed to be good.

Dave sets his phone down and glances back over to you to find you curled up with your cookies and soda, sniffing quietly as you read. It could be worse and he doesn’t want to smother you, so he turns towards his computer to knock out some emails.

******

When the end of the day comes you’ve managed a nap and a few more chapters in the novel that Carol had lent you, and you sit up on Dave’s couch still feeling burnt out and heavy with sadness despite resting all day. “I think I’m going to tuck in over the weekend,” you tell him, knowing it would be longshot to get anything done at home. Laundry and feeding yourself at most.

“That sounds good, sweetheart.” Dave nods, closing his computer down and locking his desk drawers. “Quinn’s bringing you some clothes and we are going to just veg for the weekend. Low key, relaxed and you won’t have to lift a finger.”

“Did you just say…” It takes you an extra second, but when you look back up he’s smiling in that completely self-satisfied way that he has whenever he’s plotted a surprise or knows he’s fully exhausted and satisfied you in bed. The expression that is his own little pat on the back. “You’re not letting me go home to wallow in privacy, are you?”

"Should we?" He asks, lifting a brow. "Are you telling me that I should let you go home to be alone and be miserable, stuck in your own head? Or my idea of bringing you home and letting me, Carol, and Quinn dote on you and spoil you?" If you really wanted to go home and be alone, he would let you. He just wouldn't be happy about it.

There’s guilt in your frown, and you dig your toes into the little rug runner under his sofa with a sigh. “I don’t want to spoil anyone’s good time.”

"You aren't going to spoil anything, sweetheart." It's Dave's turn to frown as he shakes his head. "We will have a perfectly good time just relaxing together. Carol knows what you are going through and Quinn and I? Well, we are good boys who do what our girls want us to." He sends you a small wink. "Even running out for your cookies."

In under thirty seconds your frown has turned into a pout with the corners of your lips distinctly turned up as you cross the office to put your arms around him again. “Thank you, love.” He’s very good at making big gestures seem small, and the longer you’re together the more natural it’s all starting to feel. Even bringing Quinn into the equation had been surprisingly simple. “I just—you know I wouldn’t ask for it. But I’m grateful to have it offered to me.”

"We will do anything for you, sweetheart." Dave reminds you, his own arms wrapping around your back and he kisses your forehead. "What do you think about letting me drive you home? Leaving your car here for the weekend?" You might want to go somewhere, but he and Quinn could always come back and get it if you need it.

“As long as it’s okay with my boss,” you flash him a grin, knowing that he doesn’t have anything on his calendar that you have to worry about this weekend and you were planning on face planting on your couch. “It sounds extremely sweet and pretty wonderful, honestly.”

"Okay, let's get out of here." Dave shoots you a grin, happy he's getting his way and you are going along with his plan. You will be pampered and taken care of. Just like you deserve to be.

******

Quinn and Carol’s cars are already in the driveway when you pull up to the house, and Dave parks in the garage beside his daughters’ bicycles. You’ve been having these family nights more often – all four adults together having dinner with his and Carol’s girls. Sometimes you’ll go to their recitals or watch movies with them all together, sometimes you’re just sitting at the kitchen table playing cards or board games while they do their homework. They’re used to you as their daddy’s assistant and friend, and now they’re used to Quinn, too. They tease you, of course, because Carol introduced him as Mommy and Daddy’s friend and your boyfriend, but it’s that cute kind of teasing that makes them giggle and sometimes ask if you’re gonna wear a big poofy dress when you get married one day. It’s harmless and sweet, and honestly you’ve really come to appreciate those moments of being a family together.

"Quinn promised to cook tonight." Dave tells you as he cuts the engine. "Steaks for us, so you know that Carol has whipped up some delicious sides and he probably bought a chocolate laden dessert."

“I owe you guys for this.” While you know that there is no point system – no one is keeping track of good deeds in this relationship the four of you have – you still know you’ll be doing extra little nice things for all of them to show them you’re thankful.

Dave scoffs but he doesn't answer, knowing that there is no point to it. Instead, he walks around the car and takes your purse and clothes from you. Keeping his hand on your back and chuckling. "Now that we are home, you can take your bra off."

“You bet your ass.” Both of you laugh and you let him sweep you into the house like a guest of honor instead of the frumpy pile of borrowed clothes and unsettled hair you are. A makeup wipe from your bag had washed away the careful face you applied this morning and while you do feel more human, you know you definitely look as tired as you feel.

"Honey." Carol immediately pops out of the kitchen, tutting and pouting at you as she sweeps in to wrap you up in a fierce hug. "You should have let Dave bring you home hours ago." She chastises you gently. "What do you need? The heating pad is already on the couch, or you can sit in the steam shower until dinner is ready."

“I’m okay,” you promise her instantly, accepting the tight hug and reminding yourself not to cry over how sweet she is. “I had the heating pad in Dave’s office all day and had a little nap while he worked. I just…” Sheepishly, you shrug a little in her arms and look around to find the girls nowhere in sight before you give Carol a kiss. “I just want to be around you guys.”

Carol pets your face, cooing against your lips softly. "We will take care of you." She promises, smiling as she pulls back. "Nothing better than two sexy men and me to dote on you when you are feeling yucky because Aunt Flo's being a cunt." She winks. "Pun intended."

“Unfortunately, she hasn’t even kicked in yet,” you laugh at the pun and let her steer you to a stool at the kitchen island. “This is just her pre show.”

"The show before the volcano." Carol winces and reaches out to rub your stomach. "I'm so sorry, love."

“I’ll be okay.” Another kiss can be stolen without too much fear, and you’re hugging her tightly when the glass door between the kitchen and the porch slides open. “Are they home? I thought I heard the car.” Quinn pops his head inside and looks around for a second before his eyes land on you with a sigh of relief. “Baby,” he sticks his lower lip out in a deep pout and immediately makes his way to your side to wind his arms around you. “Are you okay? I’m sorry you’re not feeling good.” Periods are the number one reason he’s glad he’s not a woman, and he remembers how hard his ex-wife had it when they were together but it seems like sometimes yours are even worse.

“I’m okay now.” Carol has stepped away to make room for Quinn and you hug him every bit as tightly as you hugged her. “I have the world’s best people to look after me.”

"I've got some steaks on the grill." He knows red meat is good for you during this time and he was determined to make it the best damn steak you've ever put in your mouth. "And I'm already determined to give you a foot massage later on."

"When Dave said you guys weren't going to let me lift a finger this weekend he really meant it, huh?" It never fails to make you smile, though, because you know that the love between the four of you is steady as a rock. "Thank you, baby."

“You’re welcome.” Quinn winks at you and grins. “You know that we would do anything for you.” He kisses you quickly and lets you go. “I can’t over cook the steaks or York will never let me live it down!” He calls over his shoulder as he rushes back out onto the deck.

"So how was work, love?" When you turn back to Carol at the stove, Dave has already put a cold drink in front of you and is setting the table on your other side.

“It was snotty noses and uncooperative shots.” She chuckles. “So a perfect day in my world.” She is stirring the mushroom risotto and turns to send you a happy smile. “No emergencies, so it was wonderful.”

"We love any day the pediatrician's office doesn't have to deal with broken bones, virus epidemics, or random bouts of pink eye." Carol's work always keeps her plenty busy, but she always comes out of it with a smile and you admire the hell out of her for it. "Thankfully the office was quiet today. Seems like the day was pretty okay for everybody but my uterus," you chuckle lightly.

“Your uterus is angry with you.” Carol hums. “Or maybe it’s angry at the two sexy men that continuously fuck you but never gives it what it wants.”

"You just want another baby around without having to give birth to it yourself." Which isn't such a bad thing, but you still laugh a little as you sip the water that Dave had put in front of you.

“Duhhh.” Carol laughs and shakes her head. “No, but maybe we can talk to one of my colleagues, see if there’s something that can be done.”

"About me having a baby?" The immediate confusion has you sitting up in your seat before your mind catches up with your mouth. "Ohhh...wait...you mean about my dumbass periods."

“Of course, honey.” Carol reaches for the heavy cream to stir it in slowly. “I know you aren’t to that point yet, but you don’t deserve to suffer every month.”

It isn't too unusual for the topic of kids to come up considering you're the only one of the four of you without a biological child, but you typically wave it off just like you are now. "Every several years I have to change my birth control, that's all. They help the symptoms for a while and then they don't, ya know? It's fine. I just clearly need to see my gynecologist again."

“Okay.” She frowns slightly but she won’t push. “If you want me to make some calls, you just let me know, okay? I can call in some favors.”

"I appreciate it." Unfortunately, you're one of those unlucky women that got dealt a bad hand when it comes to monthly symptoms and you're managing it the best you can. What is lucky is that you have three people who love you who are willing to bend heaven and earth to help. "For now I'm just thinking good food and good company is the way to go. Even if I'm not up to running around with the girls...I'm glad Dave set this whole thing in motion." Because you know it was him. This level of coordination smacks of Dave York's handiwork.

“Of course. You know Dave.” She smiles indulgently as she looks towards the door. “He likes to make a fuss and he would do anything for you. We all would.”

"I'd do anything for all of you." That is as earnest a promise as you can possibly make, and you would make it as many times as they needed for the rest of time. Dave's gone outside after setting the table, getting a few private minutes with Quinn before dinner, and you glance back at the glass door before turning to Carol with a grin. "Did you guys have fun last night? Quinn was really excited but he wouldn't tell me what he had planned."

“We did.” She smiles fondly and knows you will understand. “We relived a little bit of the golden days. He took me to a dive bar and then we got a hotel room and pretended it was our old dorms.”

"Oh, cuuute." They've enjoyed rekindling their college romance and it's been sweet to see Carol and Quinn in that sunny, lovey stage. "That sounds like a perfect way to have some time together. He was so excited, I'm glad you loved it."

“I just hate that you were having a miserable time while we were having fun.” She pouts softly.

"If I had called you would have dropped everything and then you would have missed out on Quinn's whole plan." You shake your head, reaching out to rub her shoulder gently while she pulls the pan off the stove. "This is better. We have no plans for the weekend and the girls have a sleepover tomorrow. We can relax and be together with no expectations or changes of plans."

“As long as you do exactly what you want.” She murmurs softly as she covers the pot to keep it warm.

"What I want is to sneak a little forkful of whatever dessert Quinn picked up." The conspiratorial smile you share with her is broad, and you put your hands out to take the pot from her to put on the table.

“I think that I didn’t see you open the box on the first shelf of the fridge.” She winks at you and walks around you to put it on the table herself.

"You're a goddess," you promise Carol, as if she doesn't already know it. In their big refrigerator, a tall white cardboard bakery box stamped with the logo of the bakery down the block from your own apartment is waiting, and when you pop the lid your favourite cherry chocolate cake is staring back at you. "Oh my god," you groan happily and swipe a finger through the deeply rich ganache on top before turning back to Carol. "I love all of you. You're spoiling me and I'm going to return the favour so many times over."

“I knew you would want it.” She tells you proudly. She had told Quinn exactly where to go and what to get in order to put that exact expression on your face. “Don’t tell him I told you that. Let him have the credit.”

"Cross my heart." The motion of crossing your finger over your heart goes with it and you make a mental note to really rock the hell out of your next date with Carol as a thank you. "Do you need anything else from the fridge while I'm in here?"

“Can you grab the asparagus salad?” She asks. “Second shelf, metal bowl.”

"Done and done!" Even just being around your partners has brightened your mood, and even though you know it will ebb and flow for the next couple of days before your cycle starts, at least you're feeling buoyed by the idea that these three wonderful people all want you to be happy and cared for.

The rush to the table happens nearly all at once, with the guys coming in from the grill bearing a large platter and Dave going to fetch the girls while Carol gets the tray of condiments for their hot dogs. It's big, it's busy, it's noisy, and it's so wonderfully comfortable. Even though you're not feeling yourself, you feel the closest you possibly could.

“Hey babe.” Quinn curls around your back and kisses just below your ear. “How are you feeling?” He asks softly, rubbing your shoulders.

"A little better." You feel like you can breathe again, emotionally anyway, so that is a big step in the right direction. "What are the chances you're going to stay this weekend and hang out with us?" Just like the rest of you, Quinn has an extraordinarily demanding job and you know very well that a traditional weekend away from the office is not always possible for him.

“There’s nothing on the books so I’m all yours unless there’s a crisis.” He murmurs, smirking as he sits down beside you. “So I’m praying the world doesn’t burn.”

"Or if it does, that it has nothing to do with NASA." A soft kiss between you helps you relax even further, and in no time the six of you are sitting down at the table like it's a perfectly normal family dinner.

Dave hums happily, reaching for Carol’s hand and he pulls it up to kiss the back of it. “It’s a good day.” He murmurs as he watches you and Quinn put your heads together and talk quietly.

"You did a very sweet thing for her today, my love." Carol hums, kissing the back of her husband's hand in turn.

“I hated seeing her cry.” He admits quietly. “It was all I could do to keep working and not just bring her home and sit her on my lap.”

“Poor thing.” She tuts softly, shaking her head as Dave fills her plate for her. “I’m just glad she works for you and not someone who would force her to keep going in agony.” There are plenty of bosses like that out in the world, but she hates to think of you working for them. If she could keep you safe and cared for and always have someone there to adore you, she would.

“She wouldn’t go home, so I had to just make sure she didn’t suffer too badly.” He hands his wife her plate with a soft smile.

“You did good.” She beams at him and gives him a kiss on the cheek before taking her plate. “Now we can have a nice weekend as a family.” And if that family already felt complete before you and Quinn joined it, then having the two of you is the icing on a very sweet cake.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld  

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Dave York #Dave York x reader #Dave York x you #Dave York x female reader #Dave York x f!reader #Carol York #Carol York x reader #Quinn McKenna #Quinn McKenna x reader #Quinn McKenna x you #Equalizer 2 #The Predator #crossover fanfic #poly fam

[finniestoncrane]

Omg this event is AMAZING!! So creative, I looked at the menu for an eternity xD And also CONGRATS!! You really deserve all of this, you are so consistent and talented, one of the best on this site! *hugs you thight* (wait, is it ok to hug the owner of this place? 😳) So, here's my order: Takeout - Black Coffee - Question Mark Shaped Nuggies (Gotham Eddie): Waffle Fries, Curly Fries, Potato Skins (I wanna see Ed all handsome in a black tie sue me) (Reader pronouns are she/her) Thank you so much!

gotham!riddler x female!reader, word count: 400 content (warnings): risky sex, almost public, caught in the act the kitchen is now closed! 🔞minors dni🔞 • masterlist • kofi link • tag: finnie1500 (to follow or to block) a/n: thank you so much anon! this one was a CHALLENGE lmao 💚

while ed is a very law-abiding and rule-following man, at least externally, he is a fan of risky activities of a sexual nature

so it's no surprise that he would lead you upstairs from the party

away from the guests and the music and the chatter and the prying eyes

as soon as he's found a bedroom and has you inside with the door closed

his arms wrapped around you as you stumble across the floor, eyes closed, mouths pressed together tight in a deep kiss

he's shedding himself of his black tie best

his sweet bowtie undone and left hanging round his neck as he unbuttons the neat, bright, white shirt

his eyes focused on you as you remove your own clothes, immediately rushing to press your body to his

mostly to hide yourself from any potential intruders, but also to feel his skin on yours

ed's body is surprisingly firm and muscular, which makes it easy for him to throw you down on to the bed

carefully though, he's not particularly keen on harming you or being too rough

you can tell by the way he pauses, looking at you past the lenses of his clubmaster glasses, checking in on you

before diving into the bed alongside you, his lips finding yours, finding your neck, finding your chest, your breasts, your nipples

his tongue working over you, tasting you and savouring you

excitement, and heat, building under the covers as he nervously trembles, fingers skimming over your sides and behind your back

until you're interrupted by a sudden blast of sound and light

the bedroom door opened

the only bedroom, the only bed

for a party full of people who might be intending to follow suit and engage in some less than private antics

with a deep red blush starting on his cheeks and travelling to his neck and collarbones, ed covers himself and you with the sheets

as he nervously adjusts his glasses, pushing them up his nose

uttering multiple apologies, to both you and the intruders

only stopped when you place your hand over his mouth to tell your unexpected guests to give you fifteen minutes

then the room can be all theirs

you doubt you'll be able to last that long with ed's sweet, flushed face looking down at you

#finnie writes #finnie1500

[redlegumes]

A Breakdown for Lunch

Square: Panic Attack B3

Title: A Breakdown for Lunch

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 1,292

Ship(s): Steddie, Eddie Munson/Steve Harrington

Major Tags: Panic Attacks, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Love, Comfort

AO3 Link

Summary:

"'Anything you're craving?' 'No,' he said, smaller and sadder that time. 'I'm sorry Eddie, I'm so useless I couldn't do this simple thing. I'm cracking up over lunch. It's ridiculous. I should be better than this but I'm not.' 'Stevie. I love you sweetheart, please. I don't think this is entirely about lunch and even if it was, it's okay to be in a bad place.'" Eddie helps Steve through a panic attack.

Written for @EddieMunsonBingo

"But it's not even… Why why," Steve cried as his balled up fists twisted the denim covering his knees. "Why am I freaking out over lunch?"

Steve was going to get them lunch. Eddie told Steve he knew him well enough to get Eddie something he'd like and hopped into the shower. When he finished and walked into their kitchen, Steve was sitting, tense and unblinking, on a stool.

"Sweetheart?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Steve repeated, looking miserably at Eddie's feet.

"Please stop that," Eddie tried to say as gently as he could. "Are you okay?" He approached slowly with his arms open, wanting to hold Steve in them, soothe him. Unfortunately, when Steve got anxious sometimes touch was the last thing he needed.

His eyes flicked briefly to Eddie's arms and he shook his head in a short 'no' motion. "I'm sorry. I haven't gotten lunch. I just wanted good fries, y'know? But Georgie's is closed on Sundays and that leaves the chain places, and I like Arby's curly fries, but you don't like their menu that much, and McDonald's is so hit or miss, so maybe Wendy's, but then I started worrying, 'cause I really need you to text me your order, 'cause what if I mess up your burger toppings 'cause I'm-"

Eddie broke through Steve's spiral. "Stevie, babe! Breathe for me. It's okay."

Cont. after the cut

Eddie shifted about until he could catch Steve's eyes. "It's okay. Did you take your pills yet?"

Steve's breathing stuttered a little. He had a small pill regiment. Prescriptions for the migraines, the posttraumatic stress, and a huge multivitamin Eddie referred to as a 'horse pill.' They also engaged in some self medication. Just weed. Eddie'd washed his hands of the hard stuff. It was something he wanted to prove he could do for Steve, for their relationship. He'd realized his back stashes had to go when they moved in together, and Steve had firmly insisted none of it was to be kept in their rental. Eddie was reminded they were building something together, something real that could be damaged or lost. So everything but his green herbs went.

"No…" Steve's face reddened. He's still embarrassed by even the implication of dependency on the meds. They'd talked circles around it before. Eddie told Steve again and again there was nothing wrong with reaching out and getting help. His prescriptions were just daily help from medical professionals. Steve twisted his pants in his fingers' tight grip. "I've been taking them after lunch."

"Well," Christ, I wanna touch him. Eddie wasn't overly confident in his vocal attempts to comfort Steve. Physical contact seemed to work so much better. "That might not be the best time huh?"

"I guess," Steve said quietly. "I just felt really off today."

"Well I'd imagine. You had that headache kick in early this morning, and didn't your mom call?"

"Yeah. I haven't heard her voice in over a year." He looked off, eyes unfocused. Eddie nodded slowly. Still within reach, without forcing himself too far into Steve's space. He needed it to breathe. "It was less than a minute. She was in Chicago today and asked if I was in Chicago today, and I said no and she basically hung up."

Eddie wanted to hug him so, so badly, but Steve was wound up. The last thing he needed was Eddie's weight on his jumpy frame.

Eddie carefully questioned, "do you know what you want for lunch?"

"No."

"Anything you're craving?"

"No," he said, smaller and sadder that time. "I'm sorry Eddie, I'm so useless I couldn't do this simple thing. I'm cracking up over lunch. It's ridiculous. I should be better than this but I'm not."

"Stevie. I love you sweetheart, please. I don't think this is entirely about lunch and even if it was, it's okay to be in a bad place." Eddie stood back up, and his hands settled on his hips as he stretched a little. "Now, I am going to go to Bertha's Drive Thru because they have fries that are okay but they also have shakes topped with whipped cream and cherries, and I know that's your favorite. Is there anything else you want from there?"

"The chicken strips?"

"You got it," Eddie replied, beaming back at his anxious boyfriend. He's still willing to eat; that's always a good sign.

…

Eddie grabbed the food and returned to find Steve had moved to the couch. Some game was on the TV, and Steve's body looked more relaxed. The closer Eddie got, singing his return, he could see that Steve wasn't really watching. His eyes stared out, glazed over.

Eddie set everything out on the coffee table and ate while attempting not to watch Steve mechanically chew food. Eddie rambled as they ate, filling up the quiet. Steve had mentioned sometime ago, when they'd first started hanging out one on one, that Eddie's voice was sweet to him. Helped calm his mind when it stormed.

Steve finished his shake. He set the empty cup on the table, and reached out to Eddie. Eddie'd been sitting across from Steve, on the floor, as they used the coffee table to eat off of, but now he uncrossed his legs and rose. He joined Steve on the couch, wrapping him in his arms.

"I feel better," Steve said in a rough voice.

"I'm so glad angel."

"I'm sorry."

Eddie fought down his feelings of exasperation and kissed Steve's temple before settling back a little so he could properly look at his boyfriend. "I know you feel like you have to apologize, but I promise there's no reason to."

Steve's eyes were unconvinced.

"Babe, you don't have to justify a panic attack," Eddie said, his frustration bleeding into his tone.

Steve's head dropped onto Eddie's shoulder. "Yes I do," he mumbled into Eddie's shirt. His fingers tightened where they'd drifted in the embrace, at the small of Eddie's back. "I can't just break down like that. People depend on me. I especially can't for no-"

Eddie shushed him, carding his fingers through his hair. "You can let those thoughts build up in your head sweetheart, but once you say them out loud you have to hear how awful you're being to yourself. Imagine if one of the kids had this happen. This isn't the way you'd want them to react. I know you won't treat yourself like you would want them to be treated. Steve, you don't love yourself like you love the rest of us, but... You are right. People do depend on you; they learn from your example."

Eddie felt the fabric on his shoulder grow wet as Steve silently wept in his embrace. Eddie continued his soft passes, allowing his fingers to gently massage Steve's scalp. He hummed little snippets of recent riffs he'd been working on as he let Steve feel safe, protected.

When Steve did adjust, they laid back down together on the couch. Steve on top of Eddie, simply breathing, simply being.

"Thank you."

"Purely selfish," Eddie said brashly. "I want you to be there for me the next time I crack up." Steve stiffened. "Okay, okay. The next time I, uh, have an 'episode.' Mine are always bigger anyway and involve more property damage. So I want you to remember, and easily recall, how good I am to you when I rage because we're out of Yoo-hoo… or whatever dumb shit triggers me."

Eddie clearly heard Steve's sulky, mumbled reply, "s'not dumb."

"Aw, come on. Let me be a little self deprecating," Eddie wheedled.

Steve nodded no against Eddie's chest. "You're talking about the guy I love. No trashing him if I've got anything to say about it."

Eddie chuckled. "Good to know."

#eddie munson #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #steveharrington #ao3 fanfic #stranger things #i write things #panic attack #comfort #established relationship #eddie munson bingo #steve harrington needs a hug #lil angst #domestic fluff

[scorchviox]

Airhead

pairing: shigaraki x original character

genre: college au

synopsis: The protagonist's best friend sets her up on a date with someone that comes off as unpleasant. To Hibiki's, the protagonist's best friend, satisfaction the two easily warm up to one another.

word count: 8.2k

Hibiki’s saying goodbye to yet another fling.

What she should be doing is coming into the diner and clocking back in so I could get a fifteen-minute break. The diner was practically dead as per usual but leaning against the counter and staring out the window for fifteen minutes isn’t the same as sitting on the other side of the counter picking at the stale fries that sat in the back from earlier this morning. I couldn’t blame Hibiki though; she has always been flamboyant and loveable at first glance. The work uniform works in her favor as well; however, the short, black skirt with a small apron at the center always has me wondering if the owner of this ridiculously run-down establishment was a pervert. 

My eyes stray from the large windows and look around the relatively dead diner. Earl, a regular customer, sat in a corner booth with a cup of coffee and technically yesterday’s newspaper in hand. Apart from him there was a wrecked couple sitting on the opposite end of the counter from where I stand, sipping coffee. They were no doubt trying to drink away the undeniable hangover they were going to have in the morning. It wasn’t a surprise to see the good old 24-Hour Diner dead at twelve in the morning on a Monday though. 

The small bell at the door finally rings, letting me know a certain someone has finally come in. “About time!” I snap looking up to the door and seeing Hibiki walk in with a smile spread on her plump lips. “I’ve been waiting for my break,” I whine, slumping into the counter.

“Remember I told you about him? Isn’t he so cute?” She swoons, going around the counter and leaning against it right by my side. Her curly, brown hair tickles at my ears as she tilts her head to rest on my shoulder. “He’s such a hottie,” she continues, appraising him in a tone of voice that sounds dreamy. She probably was dreaming, especially by the look of her half-lidded eyes staring out into the parking lot being illuminated by one single lamp post. 

“Yeah, sure,” I say with the roll of my eyes. I stand up, causing her to almost drop her head onto the red counter. “I’m taking a break,” I say, already pushing open the greasy, white double doors that lead to the kitchen. Daisuke, the cook, sat on a bucket hunched over and scrolling through his phone with some earphones on. He’s probably just a tad older than Hibiki and me, or so I think. We’ve both seen him around the college campus, but don’t know his exact age. A while back she made a bet that she could get his age out of him before me, but I say she’s already lost that bet. Daisuke is a tight-lipped guy who, for the most part, keeps his personal life to himself. “How are the fries this fine morning?”

Daisuke doesn’t move from his spot. He merely glances at me from the corner of his eye and lets out an amused sound, something between a chuckle and a scoff. It’s that kind of laugh you give a coworker when they say something that’s not amusing at all, “Oh, you know, very delicious. The strips of potato were lightly sauteed in a thick oil until golden around the edges and seasoned with sea salt. It was then garnished with my sweat and tears,” he jokes in that sarcastic way he always does. The lilt in his tone is very much present when he mentions his bodily fluids. 

I nod, reaching for a plate and dumping some fries onto it, “That’s…” I pause staring at the sad and soggy fries, “really gross, Dai.” I look up just in time to see him sit up straight and stretch his arms out. 

The sounds of his back popping and screaming in utter bliss to be straightened out make me cringe. “That’s not my name,” he groans, standing up and pocketing his phone. The wire of his earphones dangling freely now from the pocket of his jeans. I turn with my plate in hand and see Hibiki with a wide grin just outside the ordering window. Her hand reaching through and handing Daisuke a piece of paper, presumably with an order scribbled on it. 

I don’t bother answering him and just walk back out towards the front of the diner and take a seat at the counter. Hibiki leans her elbows on the counter and steals a fry from my plate. “Look over there,” she mumbles under her breath as she discreetly points her fry in the general direction she’s talking about. “Just came in. I jokingly offered him the Two Story Beef Burger and he took it.”

An amused breath leaves my lungs as I look up slightly interested. It’s not every day someone decides to try the disgustingly tall burger Daisuke hates making. There’s that and the fact that I want to see what nutcase orders a five-patty burger at nearly one in the morning. To the right of us sat a man in a booth with his hood up. Tufts of black hair peek out beyond the hood as he stares down at what looks to be a Gameboy Advance. “So that’s what a weirdo looks like,” I whisper to Hibiki as I throw a fry into my mouth. 

The conversation doesn’t linger on the man though, Hibiki is quick to turn her attention back to me. “Did you do that lecture quiz for philosophy yet?”

“I haven’t to be honest, wanna do it together?” I reply, taking my phone out of my apron’s pocket. My fingers swipe around the screen until I find the quiz’s portal. 

Hibiki seems to be doing the same, her eyebrows knitting together as if merely thinking about the quiz would succumb her to utter pain. “That’s cheating,” she mumbles to her phone, “Bet I can finish it before you though.” Her brow is raised up and smirk dances on her lips, challenging me into yet another round of her bets. She likes betting, but I honestly don’t remember a time where either of us actually paid each other back if we won. 

“Ready?” I smile, thumb hovering over the Start Quiz button. 

Maybe we’re seen as childish when we do bets like these in public, but it makes things more fun, “Set?” she inquires, that challenging smirk never leaving her features. 

“Go!” Simultaneously we press the button and start at the first question. I see her click an answer before I even have time to read the paragraph long question. Dread fills me for Hibiki. Hopefully the idiot actually read the question, bet or not this is her grade. The first question seems threatening due to its length, but the answer comes to me relatively fast. 

The quiz takes Hibiki about three minutes to complete and announces it loudly, “I win!” she exclaims happily and dances in place as she holds her phone to her chest in pure giddy. 

“Congrats,” I giggle, submitting my own quiz and setting the phone down on the counter. “Bet I got a higher grade than you though,” I challenge looking up at her while chewing on a salty, stale fry. 

Hibiki’s green eyes narrow down at me, “Bet,” she replies as if this were the biggest gamble she would ever take apart of. “What’d’ya get?” 

I pick up my phone again and unlock it to see my grade. It was a solid eight out of ten. I just know her grade is lower considering how she probably just skimmed the questions instead of reading them in full. Proudly, I put my phone down and show her the screen. “I’m smart,” I smirk with a playful, haughty tone of voice. 

“A smart person would drown those sorry excuse for fries in ketchup,” Hibiki’s lips tremble as if trying to hold back a laugh while I turn around and look to see Earl walking to the door. “Have a good shift, girls.”

In a cheery tone we simultaneously say, “Bye, Earl.” We watch the old man leave the diner and keep an eye on him until he’s safely in his car. 

Once he’s haphazardly leaving the parking lot in his beat-up Dodge Ram, Hibiki slumps into the counter, “You win that one.”

I look past her and see Daisuke staring at us with a plate set on the order window, “You can interrupt us ya know.” 

His shoulders rise and fall as Hibiki takes hold of the plate. On it sat the greasiest burger with fries I will ever see. It honestly looks like Daisuke put in extra effort to douse oil on the poor thing. “Breaks over!” Hibiki grins widely, pushing the heart attack on a plate into my hands. “I’m cashing in my win with this.”

“Um, cashing in?” I ask unintelligibly. My eyes stay on the plate, thinking about what she means. Like I said, we never really paid each other. Not even favors. Then it hits me like a freight train, “Are you scared of him?” I whisper teasingly, referring to the stranger in the booth playing an old game.

For a second, I feel like I’m right, but I know her. The way her eyes shift to the man and her brows raise means something is up. I know that scheming spark in her eye like I know the back of my hand. Her green eyes are wide as she looks back to me, “Okay, okay,” she says in what sounds like defeat. “He’s a friend. I was thinking about the other night. You said you hadn’t gone out since like practically the civil war-”

“Did you just call me old?”

“-and I was like ‘noooo’ when I went to bed,” she continues dramatically without even acknowledging my interruption. “My poor little heart couldn’t take it. Thinking about your love life being washed up at the ripe age of twenty.”

She finally stops and stares at me. Her dramatics even bring tears to her eyes. “What about him? There’s gotta be something wrong with him.”

Her wide eyes blink once, then twice until the sign of tears have disappeared. “He’s antisocial like you. Doesn’t really have any friends.”

“So, you think he’d make a good boyfriend candidate and I have friends!”

Hibiki rolls her eyes and shoves the plate into my hands, “I’m literally your only friend, but I don’t count b‘cuz we’ve been besties since braces.” 

I slowly stand and look at the order window to see Daisuke still standing idly by. He’s no doubt enjoying our exchange. “Dai is my friend!” I say a little too loud for the nearly empty diner. The pitiful couple was gone too. They probably made a getaway when Hibiki and I were taking our quizzes. 

“Not my name,” Daisuke mentions once again and doesn’t bother to add anything else that would favor me in this position. 

Hibiki tilts her head in the man’s direction, “Go. His name’s Tomura. He’s kind of weird, but he’s nice.”

Begrudgingly, I step away from my nearly empty plate of fries and take my first few steps in Tomura’s direction. He still sat staring down at his Gameboy and this up close I could see, as well as hear, he was playing some RPG with odd Egyptian like music. “Hey, Tomura,” I say, greeting him and setting his plate down. I watch the patties slightly shake at the impact, then look to see Tomura isn’t even bothering to look up at me or reply for that matter. I stand there unsure of what to do before turning my head and looking at Hibiki with wide eyes before looking at her so-called friend. 

Her eyes are set in a glare as she gives me a nod and juts her chin in his direction. If I didn’t know this weird girl, I wouldn’t have known what she meant. 

Sighing, I set my hands on the table and slide into the seat across from him. The cracked red leather digging into my bare legs as I settle myself in and awkwardly stare at the man. “So…uh, Hibiki said you’re antisocial like me, but I think you’re a few levels ahead,” I say jokingly to him in hopes of at least getting a laugh out of him, or something akin to it.

He sets down the pink game console and finally looks up at me. This doesn’t settle my uneasiness though; a shiver runs up my spine and I can practically feel the hair on the back of my neck rise. Tomura’s eye color is so dark I can’t even distinguish where the pupil meets the iris, but that’s not what causes the primitive fear to stir in me. It’s the dark circles around his eyes mixed with what could only be described as a resting bitch face. The guy looks like he hasn’t had a good night’s rest since 2003. His pale hands push his game aside and pull the plate closer to himself. Tomura looks to the huge grease tower before looking to me and raising a brow, “You gonna get me a fork or something? Or do you expect me to Scooby-Doo this thing?”

 A mix of embarrassment and utter disbelief rain over me. I slide out of my seat quickly and smooth down the uniform’s skirt as I walk behind the counter. 

“How’s it going?” Hibiki whispers as she leans in close to me while I pick out a knife and fork. 

I turn to her quickly, “That guy isn’t socialized,” I whisper harshly, “Did his mom not take him out on walks or something? Literally told me if I was gonna get him a fork or something. Girl, the audacity on that guy!”

She clears her throat, obviously fighting back a laugh. “He’s like that. Took him a while to talk to me in class too.”

“And you’re trying to set him up?” I ask wrapping the knife and fork in a napkin. “You’re a horrible cupid. Letting them out without proper training,” I hiss quietly before making my way around the counter. Looking up at him, I see he’s surprisingly not on his game again, rather his cheek is resting in his palm and his tired eyes on me. The pressure I feel because of this makes me walk faster, “Here, sorry,” I say, setting the knife and fork down beside his plate. 

I watch him look at the rolled-up utensils before he decides to rip the napkin off with one hard yank. He takes them and cuts a corner of the burger before shoving the meat and cheese into his mouth. “You just gonna stand there or sit down again?” he asks, waving the fork towards the seat in front of him. “At least pretend we’re making happy so Hibiki gets off my case,” he grumbles as he takes a fry to his mouth. 

“Then you know about her setting this up?”

Tomura scoffs and rolls those dark eyes of his before he starts working at cutting off another piece of the burger, “Sit down will you? You’re making me nervous.” I mumble a quick apology and sit down in front of him again before he continues. “We’re in the same Women Studies class. She hasn’t stopped annoying me about meeting up with some friend of hers since she decided to sit next to me.” He looks up at me, resting his chin on the back of his wrist and letting the fork dangle in his light grip. Tomura slowly chews the meat, then says, “Wouldn’t think someone as cute as you struggles for a date…Anyway,” he says looking back to his plate for another forkful, “Told her I’d finally do it if I got a plate of food. Timing kind of sucks though. Was s’pose to help my friend raid a dungeon but free food is free food.”

“Ya really know how to make a girl feel special,” I deadpan. My eyes wander from his face down to his plate to see he’s managed to eat a good chunk of the burger. “What game were you gonna play?”

He looks up at me with a raised brow and sits back. Again, his eyes look me over, almost like he was sizing me up or trying to see if I am really at all interested in his game. He is definitely the type of guy who thinks women can’t play video games because they’re marketed towards men more. Either way, anything was better than hearing Hibiki whine later that I didn’t give this a try. “World of Warcraft.”

I nod hearing the name.

Tomura’s eyes narrow, concluding my speculation. He was sizing me up to see if I knew what a game was. “You don’t know it do you?” he asks.

“No, not at all,” I say glaring back at him, “It’s just one of the most popular MMO games that’s been running for nearly seventeen years.” 

The man sucks his teeth before he looks back down to his plate of grease before pushing it in my direction, “You can have a fry,” he says taking the fork and stabbing at a piece of meat, “What kind of games do you play?”

Taking up his offer, I snatch a fry off his plate and slouch back into the crusty leather, “Eh,” I shrug my shoulders and finish off the fry, “a little bit of everything. I hate fps though.”

He raises a brow, “Literally everyone likes fps. You’re either a liar or you haven’t played any good ones.”

I reach over and take another fry. Tomura is still looking at me, waiting for an answer while I chew on its rubber texture. “Name a good one.”

“Classic one is Call of Duty,”

“Pass. It’s so boring,” I scoff, going to grab another fry, but he pulls the plate back towards him. I lean back and look at him, his eyes narrowing once again. 

He pushes the tufts of hair away from his eyes and sits up straighter, “Not even Halo?”

“No, besides I think their outfits are ugly.” I confess to him as I look back to Hibiki and see her leaning against the back counter whispering to Daisuke. “I like seeing the characters I control run around,” I say, turning back to him. His eyes were now on the two other people in the diner as well. “You didn’t order anything to drink. Why not?” I ask, effectively changing the conversation.

“My waitress isn’t very attentive,” he says as the corner of his lips lifts into a lopsided smile. He doesn’t look half bad despite his disheveled appearance. 

I stand up and smooth out my skit once again. “Would you like anything to drink, sir?” I ask in my practiced customer service voice and even sprinkle in my fake smile for some pizzazz.

Tomura’s brow raises in amusement. That lopsided smirk never leaving his features. “Yeah, I’ll take a milkshake.” 

Once hearing his request, I turn on my heel and walk towards Hibiki and Daisuke. “Dai, make two milkshakes,” I say loudly, shooing him off with the wave of my hand. 

“Not my name!”

Hibiki shoves her phone in my face just as I seat myself at the counter. “Not gonna lie to you, babes, you two look so cute together!” she squeals as silently as she can, but I don’t doubt that Tomura heard it from his booth. 

I raise my hand and place it on the back of my neck before trying to roll out the kinks I’ve been feeling for a while. “He’s not so bad.” I mumble and stop to look back at Tomura in his booth. He wasn’t looking anymore, in fact, he was back to playing his game. His fingers picked at the buttons slowly. The pauses in between make the game seem like something you’d have to think about. Something that’s definitely not a Mario game. “Why’d you take a picture?” 

Her curly hair bounces as she leans over the counter and shows me a variety of pictures with me sitting in front of Tomura, “I’m gonna start a scrapbook for you two. You’ll be able to show it to your kids one day.” Her smile is so contagious I can feel my next life smiling as well while we look through the pictures. “He’s not so bad, right? Once Tomura gets talking he’s really decent.”

“The expectation bar is that low for him, huh?” I look away from the phone and at Hibiki before remembering why I’m at the counter again, “Dai, my two shakes!” I stare through the order window and hear his famous reply before I start hearing a blender go wild in the kitchen. 

That’s the only noise fixing through the air for a few seconds before silence overtakes the dilapidated establishment. Hibiki turns and looks to the window as well. We wait patiently until Daisuke’s hands appear with a milkshake in each. “About time,” Hibiki says playfully, her tone never really rising above cheery. “Any longer and my little creation would be no more, Daiki!”

Hibiki turns and hands me the shakes, but I stay put in place as I stare through the window. Daisuke’s brown, blank eyes bore into mine as I wait for him to say something about the nickname. “That’s… not your name,” I say as if expecting him to repeat each word after me. He continues to stare straight at me without blinking for another five seconds before turning away into the kitchen. I click my tongue before turning around and heading in Tomura’s direction. He’s still into his game, body slouched over the Gameboy in his hands like his life depends on it. “Your shake,” I say, setting his down next to his plate and sliding into my seat. Again, just like the first time, he doesn’t respond, so I sit there and sip at my vanilla shake. 

It feels like a millennium goes by before he glances up at me and pushes the game aside once again. “You got one too?” he asks, then sips at his own shake. “Don’t expect me to pay for that.”

“Please,” I scoff, “You came to a setup because you were promised free food. I don’t expect you to pay for a two-dollar shake.” 

“Glad we’re on the same page then,” he chuckles. I smile at this and take a sip of my own shake once again. We were more than on the same page. It was only common sense that someone coming into the nastiest diner due to the promise of free food at nearly two in the morning wouldn’t pay for a thing. Hell, if anything I’ll just tell Hibiki that she must add this to his free tab because I’m part of the deal here. “What were you guys talking about over there?” he asks, nodding towards the counter. “Hibiki was all giggly. More than usual.”

“Oh, that?” I ask moving around the thick liquid with my straw, my opposite hand busy holding up my head. “She was just talking about my future babies with you,” I reply casually just to see if that would get a rise out of him.

Tomura doesn’t disappoint. He’s practically spitting up and choking on his shake. I watch him with a smile until he grabs his napkin and coughs into it. “What the hell?” he asks. “Get me some water!” Without answering back, I dismissively wave a hand and walk to the counter and grab a water bottle behind it. I take my time walking back, figuring he wouldn’t die from choking on some ice-cream. When I get back to the table Tomura practically snatches the bottle from my hands and chugs the water down as I take my seat. 

“You good?” I ask out of courtesy as he sets down the water bottle. 

He’s obviously still getting over it as his body trembles, trying to hold back a coughing fit. Despite that, he looks up with a glare set on me in an attempt to seem threatening. It doesn’t quite work though as he goes into another coughing fit. I patiently wait for him to stop, then finally he says, “You’re a terrible waitress. You’d let a customer die, wouldn’t you?”

“What? You expect me to give you CPR or something? I’m a waitress not an EMT, Tomura.” He clicks his tongue annoyed, then takes another sip of water before setting the bottle down between us. “Do you need an ambulance?”

A smile cracks at the corner of his lips, “After I’m done dying?” he chuckles softly, “You really aren’t attentive at all.” Silence settles between us, and I watch as his hand plays with the bottle cap. I don’t bother breaking the silence this time and take a sip of my shake. If he really wants this to go on, he might as well speak now or forever hold his peace. “What if that old man, Earl, had a heart attack out here? What would you do?”

“Old Earl?” I laugh, looking up at him, “He’d ask for the city morgue’s number before he even thinks about calling someone to save his life. Earl’s a real pessimist.” I say with a low laugh. “Does Hibi talk about work in class?” I only decide to continue with my story when I see him shake his head. “Well, I think it was last year when Earl actually had a heart attack after trying that,” I say gesturing to the tower of grease that had now just become a pile on his plate. “Dai, that’s the cook,” I can faintly hear him yell out to me from the kitchen about his name, but I continue, “he was actually ready to call the paramedics, but Earl weakly clasped his arm and slowly shook his head. Old man really rode it out then left in his rickety old truck like nothing happened.”

Tomura whistles astonished at the story. “That’s a hardcore old man.” He then pushes his plate towards me, “Fry?”

“Or one with no health insurance” I say, reaching for one and taking a bite out of the soggy thing. Tomura smiles and picks up his game again, he holds onto the power button and watches as the dim colors fade to black before pocketing the small thing into his hoodie. “Ready to head out?” I ask, already sliding out of my seat and picking up the empty cups. “Want a to-go box for the rest of your heart attack burger?”

His black hair shakes around as he mumbles, “Nah. Your story kind of scared me away from it.” Tomura slides out of his seat and stands up beside me. He takes his plate and follows me to the counter where he places it in front of Hibiki. “Thanks for the food, Hibiki. Here,” He pulls a few crumpled bills from his hoodie’s pocket and hands them to her, “for her shake.” 

Hibiki and I look at each other and give a subtle shrug. “Gonna go then, Tomura?” Hibiki pipes up, taking the plate from the counter. 

“Yeah. I’ll see you two around,” he says before walking out into the foggy night. 

My best friend is fast to turn towards me the second Tomura is out of sight. “So, what do you think? I know how to pick them, huh?” She says quickly and rather proud. 

With a shrug, I place the two cups on top of the plate in her hands before taking it from her and into the kitchen. She follows closely behind me, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, “I mean, yeah he piqued my interest.”

Out of the corner of my eye, Hibiki seizes her giddy movements, “But?”

The dishes clatter as I drop them into the sink and turn to her with a chuckle, “He didn’t ask for my number, Hibi. He’s obviously not interested.”

She childishly lets out a raspberry and waves her arm dismissively, “That’s like a technicality, babes! Don’t worry about it, there was definitely some chemistry. Right, Daiki?” Hibiki asks, turning to get Daisuke’s input. 

On the other hand, I looked to him, waiting once again to hear him chastise Hibiki for using anything but his name. That doesn’t happen though. Instead, we all turn our heads to the door as it rings. “Shifts over!” 

Jamie and Rosalind, the late-night waitresses, walk in ready to relieve Hibiki and I. “Thank you!” Hibiki shouts, throwing the small apron off and walking out of the kitchen. “Come on, babes!” I hastily follow her out to her small Honda Civic as I messily fold my apron. “Crash at mine, yeah? We can grab a bite before class.”

“Deal,” I smile as we get into the car. 

In the morning, Hibiki and I don’t even find time to grab that bite to eat she mentioned after work. I’m running around her old, little apartment ripping drawers open and looking for the clothes I’ve left before. My brain tingles at the thought of her not having washed them, but that fear skips my mind when I see my jeans and a shirt stuffed into the back of her drawer. 

Hibiki, on the other hand, is not as flustered about already running late for our first class. “Find them?” she shouts from the kitchen. She’s been cooking up a storm since she woke up a few minutes ago. That girl has no worries in the world as long as she knows she can make a meal when the sun rises. 

I emerge from the battle with her drawers unscathed, but out of breath. “Hibi, you really need to organize your stuff,” I huff, dropping myself into one of the mismatched chairs she uses for her dining table. 

When she drops a plate of scrambled eggs and a slice of toast in front of me, she says, “If you found them, then it’s obviously not that bad.” She sits down in a wicker chair with her own breakfast. “Now hurry, my late attendance record cannot be ruined. I’m always exactly five minutes late.” 

Sometimes I wonder why she’s always late, it’s not like she lives far. Hibiki managed to get an apartment right down the street from the community college we both attend. “Right, wouldn’t want the professor thinking you don’t care about his class,” I reply with a roll of my eyes. 

“Exactly,” she says, already dropping her plate in the sink and walking towards the room. “You wanna walk with me or do you wanna go ahead?”

My eyes travel down to my old wristwatch, and it takes me a while to decipher the time because there are no numbers to help me, “Yeah, I’m gonna get going.” I say, standing up and taking one of the random little journals and a pen that Hibiki likes collecting. “My phone’s charging near the TV btw. I’ll be dropping by after my classes to pick it up.”

Hibiki appears at the bathroom entrance with a toothbrush in her mouth and a thumbs-up before disappearing into it again. With that, I walk out of her apartment and lock the door.

My mind wanders back to the previous night though. To the bet with Hibiki and the odd stranger she had me meet. Tomura was a fun change of pace last night. Night shifts were usually anticlimactic, but he made me feel like there was some kind of action going on in my usual routine. His attitude is weird if I’m being honest with myself and despite that I do in fact feel like seeing him around some more. Seeing him out in the wild would actually be entertaining. Maybe he’s just as awkwardly quiet and rude around other people as he was last night. 

Before I know it, the day races by and my hopes of seeing Tomura slowly dwindle. I know he said, “see you two around” and I know that doesn’t necessarily mean the next day. Hell, it was probably just one of those things you say to someone you’ve just met out of some common courtesy. 

Currently, I stand in the middle of the school courtyard waiting in line for an iced coffee when Hibiki bounces her way towards me. “Hey, you get your phone yet?” she asks while standing on the tips of her toes to see how long the line is. 

“Not yet,” I sigh, glancing down to my watch trying to read the time. “Probably after I get a coffee.” She doesn’t respond and lets silence fall between us as we patiently wait to order. I roll my shoulders and as I do so, I catch sight of a familiar brunette walking by with an enormous backpack. Daisuke passes by staring intently at us but gives no effort to greet us. 

“Your coworker sucks,” a voice sounds from behind Hibiki and I. “Think he’d say hi at least.”

Turning around, Hibiki and I come face to face with none other than Tomura himself. Guess ‘see you two around’ did mean today. The sight of him actually makes me feel pleasant. “Yeah? Hi to you too, Tomura.”

The man is wearing identical, if not the same, clothes from the night before. I wouldn’t even put it past him to wear the same clothes a few days in a row. “Hey…” he pauses for a second, staring at me before turning to Hibiki, “Hey, Hibiki.”

I look to her expecting a conversation to blossom between the two. Surprisingly, she just gives a small wave and turns around and takes a few steps forward as the line moves. “So, you’re grabbing an iced coffee too?” I ask, looking him over and noticing he too was carrying a backpack, but it isn’t as stuffed or hiked up his back like Daisuke’s was. 

“Yeah?” The tone in his voice makes the response sound like a question. Which in turn makes me feel stupid for asking because the little kiosk we’re waiting at only sells iced coffee. “What? I don’t look like a coffee kind of guy?”

I turn on my heel and face forward in line, hoping to hide the visible embarrassment that’s crossing my face like a hot wave. “You look like the kind of guy who’d chug a Monster for breakfast, lunch and dinner,” I say. 

This change in position doesn’t help though. Tomura’s far more active than he was when we were sitting across from each other. He steps right beside me, a teasing smile already crossing his lips. “That so? Well, you’re exactly the kind of girl I thought you were.”

“What would that be?” I’m ready to hear him say I’m a basic girl who likes iced coffee to be honest. What other kind could he be thinking of? Especially with him assuming last night that I didn’t know much about games, he’s definitely the type to go for a stereotype. Just like I did with the Monster drink comment.

Hibiki’s already ordering when he finally opens his mouth to say something, “The airheaded type.”

“What?” I snap, looking up to him. Tomura’s lips only rise into that smirk of his before he’s pushing my forward. I look ahead and smile to the cashier, momentarily forgetting his comment, “An iced coffee,” I turn to look at Tomura again, “What does that mean?”

“Two iced coffees,” he corrects me while placing some crumpled bills on the counter. “It means,” he starts, as he takes hold of both drinks and hands me one. “That you’re a little slow, in my perspective that is.”

We step out of line, and I look around trying to spot Hibiki’s curly head of hair, but she’s nowhere in sight. Great, she’s abandoned me once again. “Whatever,” I huff, finally deciding to look back at him, “Thanks for the coffee, but I have to stop by Hibiki’s apartment and pick up my phone.”

He’s sipping his drink and giving a quick shrug, “I’ll join you,” he says, inviting himself. This catches me by surprise, but I give no objection and just lead the way. He makes no attempt to start a conversation, so I don’t bother trying either. We silently make our way across the street and walk up to Hibiki’s apartment. 

“You can come in,” I mumble, opening her door with my key. 

He’s quick to note this, “You have a key to your coworker’s apartment? You’re just gonna let in a total stranger?” Despite asking the second question I can hear him step onto the tiled floor.

I glance back to see him looking around the small kitchen that’s right at the entrance. “She's been my best friend since our Proactiv years,” I explain going back to her room and picking my phone up off the dresser where her television is set on. 

“You mean that acne medicine?” he snorts from the kitchen. 

There’s a loud clang just as he finishes that question, and I’m practically flying down the short hallway to see what damage has been made. “What’d you drop?” I ask, heart beating in my chest as I see him leaning over to pick up a saucepan. 

Tomura gives no real response, just a usual shrug and sets the saucepan on the drying rack. “So, you two are really close, huh? Doesn’t explain why you’d let a total stranger into her place,” he says going back to his initial question.

I scan him over, before deciding to push him out. “She said you were friends. Really doubt she’d care if you saw her underwear hanging from the ceiling fan.” I lock the door behind us before glancing at my phone. There are no new notifications, but at least I could finally be able to tell time without feeling like I failed fourth grade. “I’m done for today.” My statement is probably too sudden because when I look to him, his features are twisted in confusion. “My classes I mean,” I clarify for him. So much for me being an airhead, we’re practically on par so far. 

“Me too,” he says, tossing his cup, now only ice, into a bin right outside Hibiki’s apartment complex. We stop walking and he looks at me. Those eyes of his that had my primitive instincts tell me to run don’t seem so bad in the sun’s soft glow. “You gonna walk home or should I offer you a ride?” 

His attitude just as bleak in the sun though.

I shrug a shoulder as I take a sip of the iced coffee still in my hand. Not exactly chivalrous this one. “I guess I could grace your car with some female presence.”

This time he rolls his eyes, probably realizing that was a shot at his probable lack of dating experience. He then leads the way back to the campus parking lot; the thing looks like a car dealership with the number of cars taking up every single space. 

Tomura’s quiet as he leads me through various rows of cars before stopping in front of a navy-blue one. “Hop in,” he says, clicking a button on his remote key. I go around to the passenger side and pull the door open and get in. The inside is surprisingly clean. His appearance really makes me draw a certain conclusion to his character. I’ve been wrong so far though, he’s not a complete slob. “Something tells me you’re judging me again,” he pauses as he starts the car. “Something also tells me you’re feeling bad that you were wrong,” Tomura says, finishing his thought as he’s looking back while pulling out of the space. “Am I right?” he asks before taking off for the lot’s exit.

“You’re not entirely wrong,” I reply, trying to make him believe that he’s not spot on. “Take a right when you leave by the way.” 

He nods and stops at the exit for a second before following my directions, “You can turn on the radio,” he says gesturing towards the screen in between us. 

I lean over and press at the power button, next thing I know my heart is wanting to jump out of my chest. The volume’s all the way up, and my fingers are anxiously spinning the volume wheel until it’s at ten. “Oh, my god! Are you deaf or something, Tomura?” I shudder in my seat and press a hand to my chest. “That was terrifying.” The fact that it was trap metal didn’t help my heart an ounce. That is the loudest type of music I’ve ever come across. “Keep going straight,” I mutter when I notice we’re at another stop. 

Tomura doesn’t seem at all fazed by the music though. He’s sitting there with a grin on his face, obviously in love with the reaction I gave at the sudden raucous. “Here,” he says, digging through his hoodie’s pocket before tossing me his phone. 

With a brow raised, I look at him then swipe my thumb across the screen. “You’re really going to let a total stranger look through your phone just like that?”

“She said you’re friends.” He says referring to my previous answer. With that answer, I decide to slide through his apps until I land on Spotify. His entire home page is filled with trap music; however, that doesn’t make me believe it’s his most listened to. 

My thumb hovers over his Spotify Wrapped story, then I look up at him to make sure his eyes are still on the road. I tap on it quickly and skip to the fourth slide and wait until his most listened to song is shown. “Awe, Tomura!” I gasp out looking at the song’s title. “Who would have known you’d be into K-pop?” The speed in which his eyes snap from the road to me is almost alarming. “What do you know about K-pop?” I ask smugly looking back at him. K-pop is seen like a more feminine music genre, just like games were seen as something more masculine. 

“Don’t be a snob,” he sighs. His initial reaction slowly fades as he looks back to the road ahead of him. “Where to?”

I hum and look up to see we’re in front of the city plaza. I haven’t been paying attention, “Oop, we’ve gone a little too far. Sorry.” I apologize quickly and look back to his phone just to press play on his most played song. “Go back to Mariposa Rd and keep going straight until the road ends.”  With that, I set his phone down in the cupholder. 

Tomura doesn’t protest or whine at the fact that I wasn’t paying attention. He simply does a U-turn and goes back to the road I told him about. “So, what’s an airhead like you majoring in?” 

My attention moves to the passenger window before I decide to respond, “That’s a good question,” but I don’t elaborate further than that. Truth is, I don’t know what I want to major in just yet. No particular subject has piqued my interest. That’s most likely why I decided to go straight to a community college instead of some University. “What does an antisocial person like yourself study?”

“That’s a good question,” he repeats, slowing the car to a stop, “Been stuck on choosing between a computer engineer and a biology major.” Tomura seems almost proud of himself as he begins driving once again. He’s probably making small bets in his head the way Hibiki does at times. “From what I’ve seen, I can probably tell you what you should major in. If you want my opinion-”

“I don’t,” I laugh and turn to look at his profile. He’s looking just as tired as he was the night before. “Thanks though. I’ll find what I like somehow.” 

“I was just gonna say you should stick to being a waitress,” he chuckles, pulling the car in front of my house. “This you?”

“Yeah,” I say looking up at my house. The little flowers in front are slowly wilting because of the weather's sudden dip in temperature. I pull out my phone and hand it to him, “Type in your number.”

He stares at the phone in my hand for a few seconds before taking it in his own hands. “Want to know why I think you’re an airhead?” he asks while tapping away at the screen. 

I take the phone back as he holds it out and hit call on the number, so he has mine as well. “Yeah, sure. Why am I such an airhead?” I ask as I watch his phone vibrate in the cupholder. 

“You haven’t introduced yourself.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t know your name.”

For a second, I feel like the world stops as I look up at him with wide eyes. Did he really say what I think he said? Hibiki obviously gave me his name, why wouldn’t she extend the courtesy to him? “Neither have you!” Obviously, I’m ready to throw him under the bus as well. Sure, I know his name, but he should have at least introduced himself too. 

Tomura shifts in his seat so he’s partially facing me. “How can I introduce myself when you’re already like “Hi, Tomura!” huh?” He says in a mocking tone of voice. “Don’t waitresses usually introduce themselves anyway?”

Defensively I reply, “Don’t customers usually say hi back when the waitress greets them?” 

Tomura sucks his teeth and looks away for a second before opening his mouth a few times like he’s trying to figure out what to say next but decides against it. It takes him a few seconds before it seems like he finally makes a choice. “What’s your name then, airhead?” he finally asks, sitting back. 

“Wouldn’t you rather keep calling me airhead?”

“No.”

I chew on my lip, pretending to think about giving him my name. In the end, I just give in after realizing I have no more comebacks to throw at him. “Sakiko.”

His fingers roam to his door and clicks a button, unlocking all the doors. “Get out. All that tension building for a basic name like Sakiko?” He says in a joking tone of voice. 

“Puh-lease!” I scoff, crossing my arms. “You’re one to talk, Tomura,” I say, dragging out the last syllable in his name. “That’s literally short for Michael. Your name is literally the blueprint for basic.”

Tomura lifts a hand to his chest as if he’d been wounded. “That stings, Saki!” 

“I only speak facts, Michael.” I say feeling a tad bit victorious. Feeling the vibe slowly fade, I smile and reach for the door handle. “I’ll see you around then?”

“Yeah, yeah. Get out of my car,” he teases while waving me away. “Can’t miss you if you’re not gone.”

Hearing that, I don’t even bother asking for a better goodbye and just take his as it is. I make my way up the path and unlock my door. Before walking in, I look back hoping to see Tomura still parked in front, but that’s just wishful thinking. The dude is long gone, there’s not even a care in sight. Shrugging my shoulders, I walk into my home and lock the door behind me. Just as I’m looking down at my phone, it vibrates in my hand and a text from Hibiki pops up at the top. 

Instead of replying to the text I decide to call her. “Hey! See my text? Are you still on campus? I can give you a ride home now.” She says quickly as I drop her tiny journal on a coffee table and walk to my room.

“Guess what,” I smile, plopping down on my plush mattress. 

This game is one of Hibiki’s favorites. She immediately starts guessing random scenarios. I think I even catch her mentioning if I had somehow met an A-list celebrity, totally disregarding the fact that we live in a washed-up town in nowhere Kentucky. “Wait, did you somehow get a tapeworm in your iced coffee?”

“What? Ew.” I say, feeling a frown pull down my lips. “No, why would you even think that, Hibi?”

I could practically visualize Hibiki shrugging her shoulders, “Dunno, saw it once on a documentary.”

“Really? That’s gross. Which documentary?” 

Hibiki laughs and says, “I’ll send you a link, but what happened?”

Remembering why I decided to call her has me sitting up straight. “Oh! It’s about Tomura. Finally got his number, but that doesn’t matter. Why didn’t you tell him my name?”

Her smooth voice hums on her end of the phone softly. I have no secrets to hide, so why hadn’t she just given him my name? “That reminds me of something else!” the line goes quiet for a second before she starts talking again, “I don’t even think his name is Tomura,” she confesses.

Now I’m silent, staring at the phone then quickly hanging up on her. My fingers are quick to call Tomura, or whoever he is. “What’s your name?” I ask the second I hear that he answers the call.

He lets out a loud laugh on his end before anything else. “You just figured that out, Saki? Nearly took you a whole day.”

“Quit playing!” I whine into the phone. “What’s your name?”

“Tenko. It’s nice to meet you, Sakiko.”

A giggle leaves me now that I’ve finally heard a proper introduction. “Nice to meet you too, Tenko.”

#bnha college au #college au #bnha #shigaraki #my hero academia shigaraki #boku no hero academia #shimura tenko #bnha oc #ooc shigaraki #shigaraki needs a hug #shigaraki deserves to be loved #shigaraki one shot #oneshot #bnha fanfiction #shigaraki fanfiction #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x oc #mha fanfiction #shigaraki tomura

[papakhan]

OC Appearance

I stole this from @thespiral because it looked fun teehee I'm tagging anyone who wants it STEAL it and please tag me so I can see!

I will do Sun my best boy

BODY:

Long legs. Average legs. Short legs. Slender thighs. Thick thighs. Muscular thighs. Slender arms. Soft arms. Muscular arms. Lean arms. Toned stomach. Flat stomach. Ample stomach. Soft stomach. Six-pack. Beer belly. Lean frame. Muscular frame. Beefy frame. Curvy frame. Voluptuous frame. Petite frame. Lanky frame. Short nails. Long nails. Manicured nails. Acrylic nails. Dirty nails. Small breast. Average breast. Big breast. Flat ass. Toned ass. Bubble butt. Thick ass. Small waist. Straight waist. Thick waist. Narrow hips. Average hips. Wide hips. Big feet. Average feet. Small feet. Soft feet. Slender feet. Calloused hands. Soft hands. Big hands. Average hands. Small hands. Long fingers. Average fingers. Short fingers. Narrow shoulders. Average shoulders. Broad shoulders.

HEIGHT:

Shorter than 140 cm. 140-150 cm. 151 cm to 160 cm. 161 cm to 170 cm. 171 cm to 180 cm. 181 cm to 190 cm. 191 cm to 2 m. Taller than 2 m.

SKIN:

Light. Tanned. Brown. Dark. Rosy. Neutral. Olive. Golden. Pallid. Blotchy. Albinism. Vitiligo. Birthmarks. Freckles. Moles. Wrinkles. Stretch marks. Scars. Burns. Acne. Smooth. Dry. Oily. Combination.

EYES:

Small. Large. Average. Dark brown. Light brown. Hazel. Green. Blue. Grey. Violet. Gold. Other. Heterochromia. Doe-eyed. Close-set. Wide-set. Deep-set. Protruding. Narrow. Monolid. Almond. Round. Heavy eyelids. Upturned. Downturned.

HAIR:

Thin. Thick. Fine. Average. Oily. Dry. Neutral. Soft. Shiny. Curly. Frizzy. Wild. Unruly. Smooth. Straight. Wavy. Cropped. Pixie-cut. Bob. Ponytail. Mohawk. Half-shaved. Under cut. Buzz cut. Shaved. Bald. Hair extensions. Weave. Afro. Waves. Dreadlocks. Box braids. Braids. Twists. Faux locs. Jaw length. Shoulder length. Armpit length. Mid-back length. Waist length. Hip length. Past hip-length. Middle part. Side part. Blunt bangs. Curtain bangs. Wispy bangs. Short bangs. Side bangs. Dyed bangs. Ombre. Dyed. Grey. White. Platinum. Platinum blonde. Golden blonde. Dirty blonde. Blonde. Strawberry blonde. Ginger. Red. Auburn. Light brown. Mouse brown. Chestnut brown. Caramel brown. Chocolate brown. Dark brown. Black. Jet black. Clean shaven. Stubble. Sideburns. Moustache. Goatee. Beard. Thin eyebrows. Average eyebrows. Thick eyebrows. Plucked eyebrows.

TATTOOS/PIERCINGS (potential):

Full sleeve. Half sleeve. Forearm tattoo. Wrist tattoo. Hand tattoo(s). Ankle tattoo. Calf tattoo. Thigh tattoo. Hip tattoo. Neck tattoo. Chest tattoo. Rib tattoo(s). Back tattoo. Shoulder blade tattoo. Face tattoo(s). One tattoo. A few here and there. Multiple. No tattoos. Nose piercing. Septum. Nipple piercing(s). Genital piercing(s). Prince Albert piercing. Industrial piercing. Helix piercing. Tragus piercing. Conch piercing. Earlobe piercings. Stretched out ears. Eyebrow piercing(s). Bridge piercing. Tongue piercing(s). Monroe piercing. Angel bites. Snake bites. Labret. Navel piercing. Inverse navel piercing. Cheek piercing(s). Smiley. Nape piercing(s). No piercings.

COSMETICS:

Eyeliner. Light eyeliner. Heavy eyeliner. Cat eyes. Mascara. Fake eyelashes. Light eyeshadow. Neutral eyeshadow. Smoky eyes. Colourful eyeshadow. Matte lipstick. Regular lipstick. Lipgloss. Lip liner. Lip balm. Red lips. Pink lips. Neutral lips. Dark lips. Colourful lips. Bronzer. Highlighter. Blush. Light contouring. Heavy contouring. Powder. Matte foundation. Dewy foundation. Concealer. BB cream/tinted moisturiser. Wears make-up regularly. Wears it from time to time. Rarely wears make-up. Never wears make-up.

SCENT:

Floral. Herbal. Earthy. Fruity. Fresh. Perfumes. Aftershave. Cocoa. Moisturiser. Shampoo. Cigarettes. Leather. Sweat. Food. Incense. Marijuana. Cologne. Whiskey. Wine. Fried food. Blood. Fire. Metal. Rain.

CLOTHING:

Jeans. Tight pants. Cigarette pants. Cargo pants. Khaki pants. Harem pants. Sweatpants. Yoga pants. Leggings. Tights. Stockings. Overknee socks. Pencil skirt. Tight skirt. Loose skirt. Ballerina skirt. Long skirt. Miniskirt. Maxidress. Sundress. T-shirt/Sweater dress. Tight/Form-fitting dress. High slit dress/skirt. Cocktail dress. Gowns. Tuxedo. Suit. Tie. Waistcoat. Sweater vest. Sweater. Hoodie. Leather jacket. Denim jacket. Bomber jacket. Parka. Peacoat. Trench coat. Cardigans. Tunic. Turtleneck. Blouse. Button up shirt. Cuban shirt. Flannel shirt. Polo shirt. Camisole. Bustier. Tube top. Crop top. Tank top. Muscle T-shirt. T-shirt. Band T-shirt. Sports T-shirt. Basketball shorts. Pleated shorts. Jean shorts. Hotpants. Bodysuit. Jumpsuit. Overalls. Corset. Nightgowns. Robes. Lingerie. Bra. Sports bra. G-string. Thong. Panties. Briefs. Boxer briefs. Boxers. Loose clothing. Tight clothing. Revealing clothing. Designer. High street. Thrift. Patterns. Florals. Polka dots. Stripes. Sequins. Cotton. Linen. Silk. Lace. Leather. Velvet. Fur/Faux fur. Light colours. Pastels. Neon colours. Bright colours. Earth tones. Dark colours. White. Black. Heavy armour. Medium armour. Light armour.

SHOES:

Bare feet. Slippers. Sandals. Gladiator shoes. Flats. Slip-ons. Loafers. Oxfords. Sneakers. High tops. Ankle boots. Hiking boots. Combat boots. Cowboy boots. Knee-high. Platforms. Wedges. Stilettos. Chunky. Kitten heels. Slingbacks. Pumps. High Heels. Stripper heels.

#red in tattoos is what he Will get later on (back khan logo and the death hand tattoo) #yellow in clothing is 'stuff he wouldnt chose by himself but would wear for someone else' #txt #oc tag: sun #I didn't chose a Frame because Sun doesn't really fit any of those. He's like. Stocky. She's short and thick but not as fat as his dad ykn

[marie-is-seein-stars]

ice.cream

Chapter 1 🍨

Bombastic side-eye count: 2

"Hyunijn! Wake up honey it's time for school!" Hyunin's mother called from the kitchen. The delightful aroma of fried rice was enough reason of getting out of his comfy, cozy bed. "Hey, pack some extra so your brothers don't eat it all" Mom said smiling at him from afar, she was washing dishes at the sink. Kkami, the family dog, stared at Hyunijn. He was begging AGAIN. "Ah! Kkami Leave me alone!" Hyunjin whined. After the dog left him at the table, he packed up everything he needed for the day; his bento full of the extra rice, history, math, and English Lit. books. He walked out onto the porch and saw a girl with curly hair sitting on the bench for the bus stop. "She is just ADORABLE Hyunjin!"His best friend, Felix Lee, a freckled blondie remarked with the goofiest of smiles. They both sat down and the girl made some sort of noise between a yawn and a gasp. She looked up at Hyunjin and Felix, but blushed when they made eye contact. There was no doubt whoever these two guys were, they are HANDSOME, she couldn't help but try to make some coherent words but failed miserably when the bus pulled up, drowning her out completely. Out of the blue, Felix asked "Wanna sit?" All Y/n could do was nod and hope he didn't ask if that was a yes or no like all her old classmates did. He didn't, thank GAWD. Y/n trotted up the steps, making her curls dance along her back. Once they were all settled in their seats, Y/n took a deep breath for courage "I-i am in the Flower Class... are you?" At this sudden news, Hyunjin wasn't shook, nor was he shooketh he was JUNGSHOOK."YES, we both ARE ACTUALLY!!!!" That's when almost everyone in that bus gave him the BoMbAstiC side eye, I'm takin' bout that CRIMINAL. OFFENSIVE. SIDE--EYE. He quickly corrected his tone 'Felix and I are in that class, I mean" he blushed and smirked at Felix, who gave his usual goofy grin, "You two should date, you'd be an ITEM for sure." he whispered, his grin slowly turning into a smile. Once they unloaded with the rest of their fellow teenage gremlins, they headed to homeroom. "I gotta catch up on some work so..." Felix, being the ultimate hard shipper left the two alone. Just then, Hyunjin felt something clasp a bit tight around his arm. Looking down, he realized it was Y/n and that everyone in the room was BoMbAstiC side eyeing them. Suddenly, some girl opened her fat mouth and screeched "Gasp! why is that gurl touching on my mansssss?" Upon hearing this, it was obvious, she wasn't wanted here, her face flushed, and tears started streaming down her face. She rushed out the room without a word.

#stray kids #skz fluff #coming soon #new series #friends to lovers #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin #felix lee #felix #y/n

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Hey, I was wondering if you could do a romantic matchup for Star Wars, Marvel, and Harry Potter.

I’m a 18 years old straight female. My hair is naturally dark brown but I have blonde highlights so the majority of my hair looks blonde right now. My hair is kinda curly but I usually straighten it because of insecurities. I am 5’1, I know I’m short.

I would consider myself an extrovert, I have the ability to make a conversation with anyone. I consider myself smart but I do come off as ditzy. I have a rough exterior which causes some to be intimidated by me but I care deeply about others. Loyalty is a major thing for me. Sometimes I get paranoid so I need someone who is patient and understanding.

I adore cold weather and love to wear sweaters. My favorite artist is Taylor swift. I love baking because I get to experiment with different recipes. I love playing video games and reading. My receiving love languages are physical touch and gift giving. While my giving love languages are acts of service.

Thanks in advance.

Hey!!! Thank you so much for requesting a matchup! I am super excited about this and I hope you enjoy it!! <333

Star Wars;

Finn:

🪐 You were friends with Poe when you met Finn, you thought he was cute and quickly started talking to him; finding Finn to be quite awkward yet super sweet.

🪐 Finn's first impression of you was that you were very smart - later realizing that under that rough exterior was a kind, caring heart (a sentiment that Finn soon grew to admire)

🪐 You spent a lot of time together when you had the chance, and when your both weren't fighting the First Order; taking walks together, training together, or even sitting quietly in the same room reading together

🪐 Just being in each other's presence was very therapeutic for both of you, a rare occurrence in your daily lives, you both found so much comfort in being near each other

🪐 Finn radiates empathy, kindness, patience, and understanding, always making sure you are alright, both mentally and physically; Finn would never do you wrong, he's as loyal as they come

🪐 If you are ever paranoid or insecure, Finn is there to push away those fears, to remind you that you're loved; he's always there for you when you need him, and he doesn't hesitate to take the risk of losing his own life in order to protect yours

🪐 If you ever need a hug, Finn is there to give you one, and he’ll hold you as tight as you want to be held; he has the most incredible hugs in the world, and he smells like cinnamon, (he just does; he smells like home)

🪐 Finn loves giving you things, such as new articles of clothing you may need or even a new book, he loves the smile that you give him and the way your eyes sparkle when you receive them

🪐 He loves to join you when you cook, especially Deep-Fried Nuna Legs, though he finds anything you make delicious

🪐 Overall, Finn finds you perfect, so pretty with your blonde hair and cute sweaters; you have the most wonderful personality that makes Finn's stomach flutter and his heart beat faster than it has ever had before, you were his treasure

--

Marvel;

Scott Lang:

🃏 Now you met Scott when you joined the Avengers, and you immediately bonded with him, him being pretty extroverted as well

🃏 No need to worry about him not being patient and understanding, he's a dad and that comes second nature to him

🃏 No matter how you're feeling, he'd be there to make sure you are in high spirits, and if you aren't, he'd set up a nice movie night for you or even try and make you laugh with a card trick

🃏 He's not the best cook, but he tries for his daughter and for you; frequently joining you as you cook, loving to experiment with different food, combinations, and spices

🃏 When he's not asked to fight space aliens or any other villains, he's with you playing video games; even Cassie joins in sometimes if you're playing Minecraft, but other times you play Super Smash Bros, Mario Kart, Overcooked 2, and even sometimes Phasmaphobia (Scott hates the jumpscares but plays it with you nonetheless)

🃏 When you do have family movie nights, you'd cuddle with Scott, and Cassie in between the two of you as you watched some funny Disney movie or Dreamworks movie; eating popcorn and candy

🃏 Being the jokester he is, Scott would have dance parties with you, randomly entering the room with a small speaker on his shoulder like it was a Boombox, blasting a Taylor Swift song; in the end, the two of you sang along to the song and danced in each other's arms

🃏 In the Wintertime, when the snow is falling and holidays are in the air, Scott would wake you up early to go out to get hot cocoa, before spending the rest of the day ice skating, having snowball fights, and building snowmen with Cassie, before ending the night with a holiday movie and more hot cocoa; the side of Scott's face nuzzled into your sweater

🃏 For holidays or birthdays, Scott would gift you with new sweaters, video games, or even a trip to that new restaurant that had just opened up across town; he'd even take the time and try and paint something for you (It may have looked as if a child painted it, but you loved it nonetheless)

🃏 Scott loves you, he really does, you’re the best thing that ever happened to him; he doesn’t think he deserves you, but he’s so grateful for your love, and he can never thank you enough for giving it to him, you make sure he feels loved; you feel that same love from Scott, and you know how much he loves you, he'd scream it from the rooftops if he had to, he's in awe of your thoughtfulness and kindness towards all those around you, even the way you treat him is a testament to your compassion, he loves you so, so much and he knows that there is no one else out there for him but you

--

Harry Potter;

Neville Longbottom:

🍀 You had known Neville since you helped him find Trevor in the First Year, sitting in his train cabin during the trip to Hogwarts

🍀 During the years you became friends, finding his awkwardness adorable, you knew him as a shy boy who was easily bullied by a group of older kids because of his appearance and lack of confidence which caused him to be bullied more often, but you would always stand up to those bullies for him; you were very protective of him after all he was your best friend since First Year

🍀 As the years went on, you fell for the young man, finding his appreciation of plants, the beauty of nature, his love for reading, and the outdoors endearing; it was almost impossible not to like him

🍀 After surviving Hogwarts and the battle, you moved in together in a small cottage near a thick forest and a small lake; there Neville had his own garden for his plants and you made sure that you had a sunroom where you could sit and read

🍀 Neville would bring you flowers if you have a hard day and it was always a different bouquet every time, Mayflowers, Roses, Millisweets, Tulips, they never failed to make your day; you'd even find small notes that he'd leave for you around the house and you couldn't help but smile as your heart melted into mush whenever you saw them

🍀 In the wintertime, when he was free from Hogwarts work, Neville would take you to Hogsmeade, the both of you hand in hand as you visited small shops and got warm Butterbeer

🍀 At home, you'd both read together, cuddled on the couch in your matching sweaters; your head would rest on his shoulder as his rested on your head, the both of you smiling softly

🍀 When you would finish a good book, you'd recommend it to Neville, and he'd read it just for you; he'd also do the same, you'd wake up to a new book on your bedside table with a small post-it note from Neville on it, reminding you to have a good day and to take care of yourself

🍀 You'd also visit him at Hogwarts, greeting McGonagall as you headed to the greenhouse during your Neville's lunch; you'd bring your own snack, sitting with him in the greenhouse surrounded by plants and the beautiful sun shining down on you

🍀 You couldn't stop smiling around Neville, finding him to be the most beautiful soul you've ever encountered; it was as though nothing else existed except for him and you, you could just stare at his face or listen to the sweetest melodies coming from his lips for hours on end, making you fall deeper and deeper every passing day

#matchup #matchups #requests open #anon request #requested #request #requests #requests are open #fandom #harry potter #marvel #mcu #marvel mcu #star wars #finn #finn x reader #finn x fem!reader #finn x female reader #finn x you #finn x y/n #fluff #cute #neville longbottom #neville longbottom x reader #neville longbottom x fem!reader #neville longbottom x female reader #neville longbottom x you #neville longbottom x y/n #scott lang #scott lang x reader

[sallysgrancanwrite]

Chapter Two

Bethany, or Beth as Chloe called her, was her best friend since grade school. They pretty much did everything together . Though shopping was their favorite pastime. Beth was tall, about 5'8, long blond curly hair. She also had it up because of work most of the time. She was gorgeous and never had trouble finding a date. She was totally against marriage and kids. She said she didn't need the hassles. Chloe felt she had just been hurt pretty bad at one time and was afraid to commit again. Chloe on the other hand wanted a husband and kids. She wanted the whole house and white picket fence. It was her dream. She just needed to be patient.

"Can you believe how slow it is today?” said Beth. “I hate because it makes the day drag and the tips suck. No money today honey." She said as she popped a bubble with her gum.

She always had gum in her mouth. "Look at the bright side,” Chloe said, “It’s Friday and we may get off early,and even better; we have the weekend off! We could go out tonight for a drink and just have fun. It's been awhile."

Beth laughed, "Okay little Miss Sunshine. I agree though, we haven't gone out a d had fun in a very long time. I'm ready for a drink or two." There was only one bar, or watering hole as some called it in this rinky dink town and that would be Bella's pool hall. It was pool hall on one side and bar and entertainment on the other side. They usually got some good bands in there. And of course in this town you always ran into people you knew.

By 4:30 the ladies were told they could go, and so began the weekend. They stopped at Chloe's house to get dressed and do their hair and makeup. Beth wore her usual, tight jeans, a white and red crop top, a leather jacket and cowboy boots. She looked like she was born like that, it fit her perfectly. Chloe on the other hand was the total opposite. She was more of a girly girl. She wore a lavender sundress with small little white flowers on it and tiny straps. To cover her arms when it got cold she wore a little white shrug. She had curled her long hair and let the curls fall down around her shoulders. She left it down. She is tired of always having it up. Beth also curled her hair but put hers up in a beautiful gold barrette her mother had given to her. Beth tended to wear a bit more makeup than Chloe. Beth liked the brighter look and Chloe went more natural and not so glam.

Chloe still lived with Bob and Edith but more as a renter now. As they were leaving Edith hollered "You girls come and at least something before you have anything to drink. You'll get sick. "

The girls knew it was no use arguing with her and sat down with Bob and Edith for a quick dinner. Bob prayed and Edith handed each of them a plate with a Fried green tomatoes, BLTs, and coleslaw. And of course, don't y'all forget that sweet tea. That is a staple in the south.

The girls were polite and ate a bit of the dinner and then excused themselves. "Edith, thanks for the dinner, it was really good. I'll be real quiet when I come in. Good night."

Edith gave her a hug and told her, “You be careful and stick together. Things can happen even in small towns."

"We will, I promise " Chloe yelled as she and Beth ran out the door. She would meet someone that night that would change her life.

Chloe and Beth arrived at the bar about 7:00 or so. It was just starting to get busy. They grabbed a booth by the dance floor. They both ordered their usual, Chloe had a Brandy with Pepsi and Beth had a Rum and Coke. As they sat with drinks listening to the band they noticed a few friends at the bar. The ladies waved them over and stood up to give them all a hug. They were friends from school. Samantha, who was a sweetheart and would do anything for anyone. She had short red hair cut in a bob, and was about 5'5 and what some would call plus size but none of them noticed her extra weight. She was just Samantha. And she sure never had trouble finding dates. She dressed in the most beautiful clothing, she was always looking her best and she was smart as a whip. She was a lawyer for Jordon and Klein in town, and she rarely lost. She brought along Tanya and Keith who happened to be married. Tanya was a bank teller at Maple Falls Bank and Trust. Keith worked construction in the family business with his Dad. They had been high school sweethearts and married shortly after graduation. Tanya had invited someone with them that neither Chloe or Beth knew.

Tanya said, "Chloe, Beth, this is Michael; a friend of ours. He's new in town and doesn't know anyone so we invited him to come with us.”

"Well, everyone scoot together,” Chloe said, ``I'll order y'all some drinks.I know what you three drink but Michael what would you like?"

"I'll just have a scotch, thank you ma'am."

Chloe laughed, "Don't call me ma'am, it makes me feel old. Chloe will be just fine. I'll be back in a minute."

The band was great that night. A little bit of Country and some Rock. Everyone was having a great time. Michael asked Chloe to dance halfway through the night. They both had had quite a bit to drink. Dancing was going to be interesting. As they danced it wasn't so bad and they started to talk a bit. They went and sat back down and continued talking.

"So what do you do Chloe? If you don't mind me asking."

Chloe smiled and yelled over the music "I don't mind at all. I'm a waitress at Gramma B's Cafe, right as you come into town off the interstate. I'm head waitress and train all the ladies, hand out shifts and duties,etc. Generally be bossy," she laughed.

Michael asked, "Do you enjoy it? Must be hard on your feet all the time."

"Oh I love my job," said Chloe. "I don't mind being on my feet. I love the people I work with and for and the people that come into the Cafe. I love visiting with them. I know everyone.”

“You've never been married or had kids?" He asked.

"Okay enough about me, what about you. What do you do for a living?" she asked.

He said “You know the old banker died right?"

"Yes, I knew Mr. Henderson had a heart attack. I was sorry he passed away."

Michael said, "I am sorry about that, however, I'm the new banker. I just got here a few days ago. I'm trying to get settled in.”

At that he looked at everyone and said "Next rounds on me!"

No one was turning that down. He was very quick to stop Chloe from asking anymore questions. He was probably a private person and he had that right. It was getting close to closing time and Beth ran to the ladies room, the others were visiting.

Michael turned to Chloe and asked "Would you like to have dinner with me sometime?"

Chloe thought about it and figured dinner couldn't hurt. "That would be okay, I guess. Here's my number. Well, there's Beth, gotta run. Goodnight everyone. Let's do this again soon!"

By the time that Chloe got home it was 2:00 in the morning. She was tired but had had a wonderful time. She was downstairs getting a drink of water when Edith appeared in the kitchen doorway and startled her.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you hon. I was up with my back pain again and heard you come in. Did you have fun tonight?”

“I had a wonderful time with my friends tonight. I also met the new banker in town, Michael. He seems nice. He came with Tanya and Keith.”

“I met him the other day as he was arriving and buying supplies for his new home out there in the middle of nowhere. Yes, he seemed nice enough, but who on earth would want to live out there where? The closest neighbor is a good mile away. What if you need something? Anyway, I’m going to go and try to get a bit of sleep tonight, now that my back doesn’t hurt so much anymore. Good night hon, see you in the morning”.

"Goodnight Edith, sleep well," Chloe said as she headed upstairs to her room. She was tired and was hoping Beth didn’t call early and want to go shopping.

#original fiction #original story #writeblr

[readyforthegarden]

Summer of my Smiles

First things first, it’s been a LONG time since I’ve written any smut and I’m rusty so bear with me. Second, thinking of Jake in the 70s makes me absolutely feral and I wish I had the talent to verbalize the things I would do to him like some of you do on here. This is kinda based in the summer of 1970-something.

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+, drug use, drinking, smut - MINORS DNI!!

It started out as a typical Friday night. Your best friends Sam and Danny had picked you up, and took you to the local roller rink. While Sam hated the disco music, he did enjoy skating, and picking up girls at the snack shack between laps. Danny on the other hand just enjoyed the skating, and made sure you never felt left out if a couples skate came on to one of your favorite songs. Once you guys had enough of that, it was to the late night drive-in for burgers and fries, and whatever beer had been rolling around in the trunk of Danny’s mustard yellow Ford Maverick, the hand-me-down gift he’d gotten for graduation earlier that summer.

“I was so close to landing that redhead tonight.” Sam shook his head, tossing some fries in his mouth. There was no eating in his car, so the three of you were sat at one of the picnic tables by the parking lot. You chuckled and took a sip of the lukewarm beer in your hand, passing it to Danny. “God if her damn boyfriend hadn’t shown up I would’ve taken her out back and-“

“God, please don’t start describing your sexual fantasies.” you cut him off, pretending to gag. Sam tossed a fry at you and you tossed some back after plucking one out of your crochet halter top, continuing to laugh until a voice interrupted you guys.

“Settle down, kids.” your head turned around and you were met with Sam’s two older twin brothers. Josh, the curly-headed one, was grinning with his arms open, as if he was expecting a standing ovation. He only received fries being thrown at him. “What a way to welcome your favorite brother home.”

“Favorite is a strong word.” Sam replied, standing up to hug his oldest brother. As they parted, Josh moved to you, giving you a tight hug. Behind him, being embraced by Sam, was the second oldest. Jake. His eyes flicked over to you as Sam let go, and you felt your skin prickle with goosebumps. You’d always had a crush on Jake, ever since you were children. He was always quiet when you were around, but made sure to spend time with you when Sammy would get distracted by Danny or his other siblings. Mostly it was just letting you sit on the floor of his room and listening to whatever album he was playing on his record player as he laid in his bed and smoked or read a book, almost never talking, until Sam would realize you were gone and come find you.

He moved to shake hands with Danny and turned to you, opening his arms for a hug. You stepped into his arms, giving him a smile. You felt his hands on your bare back, his fingers resting just near the ties of your top and your cheeks flushed, an image of him untying them flashing in your mind as he pulled away.

“You guys home for the summer?” Danny asked as they joined the table. You noticed Jake sat directly across from you, giving you a look. The way the red neon lights of the restaurant sign reflected in his eyes made something stir in you. It was like he was looking through to your core, and it made you shiver. You turned away and focused your attention on Josh, who was talking about all the plans he was going to get up to over the next few months. He had picked up your burger, taking a large bite, but continued on, moving his arms around as he described the road trip he wanted to take to the west coast.

As he spoke, you played with the label on the bottle of beer in front of you, scratching at the paper until it started to peel back. You were startled from your distraction by fingers wrapping around the bottle, brushing against yours. You glanced up to see Jake, staring intently at you, now raising the half-empty bottle to his lips and pulling a swig.

“What are you going to do this summer, Y/N?” Josh asked, pulling you out of your staring contest with his twin. Before you could answer, Sam threw his arm around your shoulders, speaking loudly.

“Everyone she can, and twice if they’re good!” he began to cackle as you elbowed him in the ribs, cheeks on fire. The old joke still finding a way to embarrass you.

“I got a summer job at the country club my parents go to. It starts next month.” you answered. “Mom wanted me to earn some money before I leave for college in the fall. Plus she still thinks Sam is a bad influence, so she wants me to spend as little time with him as possible and to become a ‘real lady’.”

“She walks in on us smoking pot one time,” Sam shook his head. “Could’ve been way worse. Remember when we-Ow!” you elbowed him again, harder this time. You could feel the younger Kiszka twins eyes boring into your skin.

“Speaking of pot,” Josh patted the front pocket of his brown corduroy jacket. “Let’s take this party back home. Mom and Dad are gone for the weekend, so we’ve got free reign.” Everyone at the table stood up and started throwing away their trash, and going back to their cars. You swore you could feel fingers ghosting the small of your back, and when you turned, Jake was walking away, over to his black Pontiac Firebird. As you climbed into the backseat of Danny’s car, you couldn’t help but remember how often you’d imagined Jake taking you in his.

You remembered when he got it after getting his license, Sam wouldn’t shut up about how cool it was. Jake had promised to take him for a drive, and since you had been over that afternoon, you got to tag along. The leather bench seat was hot on your bare thighs were your cut off Lee jeans rode up, and you knew it wasn’t going to be attractive to have to peel yourself off the seat, but as soon as Jake revved the engine, you couldn’t have cared less.

Half an hour later, you were half-assed stoned, tired of listening to Sam, Danny and Josh argue over who the better drummer was, John Bonham or Neil Pert. They started to head down the basement to compare records, leaving you alone in the living room. Your eyes were transfixed on the beige and brown shag carpeting under your toes, lifting up the edges of your bell bottoms to watch your toes curl around the fibers.

“You good?” your head snapped up to see Jake standing at the bottom of the stairs. You gave him a shrug and a smile, watching as he cracked open a fresh can of beer. “I’ve got a new record, wanna come listen?” you nodded and let go of your pant legs, standing up and following him up the stairs. When you got to his room, you were surprised that it hadn’t changed much since before he and Josh left for college. Blacklight and ban posters still covered the walls, and the milk crates full of records still stacked in the far corner with his record player sitting on his dresser. The light was dim and glowed red, thanks to the chiffon scarves thrown over his bedside lamp’s shade.

Jake shut the bedroom door behind you after handing you his drink, and walked over to his record player, sliding a record out of a sleeve and setting it up. You swirled the contents of the can around in your hand, taking a sip. Once he was satisfied with the sound of the record, he moved to his bed, sitting on the edge and pulling a joint and lighter out of his nightstand, lighting it and taking a pull and then extending it to you.

“I’m good, I don’t want anymore of Josh’s shit.” you shook your head. Jake chuckled, continuing to extend the joint towards you.

“This is mine, trust me, it’s way better.” he explained. You reached out, taking the joint and taking a drag. It was silent for a little bit as The Rain Song by Led Zeppelin played, and you handed the joint back to Jake, who placed it in the ashtray on his nightstand. He laid back on his bed with his hands behind his head. You were about to take your normal spot on the floor in front of the dresser, when his voice stopped you.

“What was Sam talking about earlier?” you studied his face, but his eyes were closed, not a hint of emotion on his face. You bit your bottom lip, and stared down at the can in your hand.

“Us smoking pot?” you reminded him, knowing that wasn’t what he was referring to. He huffed a short chuckle through his nose.

“The other thing.” he said softly. You rubbed your free hand over your face and sighed.

“A few months ago, he was going to go out with a girl and was worried about his technique,” you explained feebly, your cheeks burning red. “So I let him finger me. We were high and it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“And was it?” he asked, his eyes open now and looking at you.

“It was okay.” you shrugged. “Sam doesn’t take critique very well. I’m sure his date was fine with it, though. Most girls are so enamored by his looks that they don’t really care how he performs.” Jake laughed and nodded. You felt awkward from just standing there, and Jake seemed done with the conversation, so you turned around, setting the beer on the dresser and grabbing the album sleeve to look it over.

“Did you get off?” you jumped, not expecting Jake’s voice so close to your ear. You were acutely aware of the less than a centimeter of space between your back and his front.

“Excuse me?” your breath came out as a whisper. Jake’s fingers began to ghost over your arms, running up and down. You tried to fight the goosebumps that raised themselves on your skin at his touch.

“Did. You. Get. Off.” he murmured into your ear, enunciating every word with his gravelly voice. You shook your head, afraid to speak in case your voice cracked. “Well that wasn’t very nice of him.” His hands were now on your stomach, rubbing gently downward, until they were resting at the top button of your jeans. “Do you want to?” you bit your lip and nodded. That was all he needed, and he deftly undid the buttons, sliding his hand inside.

Your head tilted back as he brushed over your panties, feeling that there was already a small wet spot from your arousal. Jake smiled as he planted kisses on your exposed neck, nipping and drawing a whimper from your throat. His fingers slid under the waistband of your panties and you gasped as his calloused fingers grazed over your clit, a shock to the sensitive nerve rocked through your body. You clutched at his other hand that was holding you to him, planted firmly on your stomach. His fingers circled around the nub, and you shuddered against him.

His fingers dipped lower and after collecting some of the wetness, slowly began pumping in and out of you. Your eyes closed and a small smile grew on your face, the pleasure of his movements filling you with ecstasy. As his pace picked up, you wound one of your arms around to the back of his neck, clutching at his hair.

“Jake,” you breathed, “Jake, please.” you were already close to the edge, and he pressed the heel of his palm against your clit, the friction making you lose it against him. Jake rode out your orgasm with you, feathering kisses along your shoulder. As you steadied your breathing and unfurled your fingers from his locks, he gently moved you and guided you towards the bed. You turned to face him, shimming down your jeans and kicking them off. You reached behind you, undoing the tie behind your back, and then slowly reaching up and doing the tie around your neck, letting the crochet top fall to the floor, the sudden cool air making your nipples hard. You heard Jake suck in a breath, his erection already straining against his black jeans.

You sat back on the bed, continuing on this new courageous whim and beckoned him over. Jake licked his lips and pulled his t-shirt over his head, the necklaces he wore clattering together. His hands went down to his belt buckle and he slowly undid it, sliding it out of the loops and tossing it to the floor. You started to get impatient as he pushed his jeans down his legs. It felt like forever until he was crawling onto the bed, pressing his lips to yours.

“Tell me what you want.” Jake hummed against your lips. You pulled away from him, staring into his dark brown eyes. The dim red glow of the room made him seem otherworldly in that moment. You said the only thing you could think of in that moment.

“You,” he kissed you again, this time hungrily, as if he couldn’t get enough of you now. You pulled him with you as you slid down onto your back, pressing your body up to his. One of his hands came up and squeezed your breast, then began teasing your nipple. You moaned into his mouth and he moved onto the the other breast. You raised you hips and ground them against his, making him groan. The tingling heat in your stomach was searching for kindling to burn brighter as the kiss grew sloppier.

You let your hand trail down his torso, wasting no time in reaching under the waistband of his boxers and wrapping your fingers around his length, pumping and making his breath falter. He moved back after a moment and moved your hand away, curling his fingers around the band of your panties and pulling them down, almost violently. He did the same with his own and reconnected your lips. He grabbed you by your hips and pulled you closer to him, gliding his cock through your wetness.

Your body arched into Jake’s as you finally connected, your lips crashing together as he slowly started to roll his hips against yours. One of his hands was holding him up, resting by your head on the bed, the other gripping your hip tightly. The burning in your stomach became a raging fire as Jake’s thrusts continued, but you needed more.

“Jake, faster..” you breathed. “Faster please!” the way your voice cracked made you sound like you were pleading with him, and Jake grinned, happily obliging. He leaned back, grabbing your legs and hooking his arms around them, your calves resting on his shoulders. You felt your back twinge at the stretch, but the angle he was hitting was too good to make him stop, his name and curses falling out of your mouth as his hips snapped against yours. You covered your mouth to keep from screaming out as you came around him, writhing on the bed. He let go of your legs and hovered over you again, ripping your hand from your mouth and smashing his lips against yours as his hips began to falter.

Running your nails down Jake’s back, you wrapped your legs around his hips. Jake let out a low growl from the back of his throat as his head fell between your neck and shoulder. You coaxed him on, whispering in his ear and nipping his shoulders, leaving love bites as he came. When he was ready to move, Jake untangled himself from your limbs, and grabbed the joint in the ashtray.

“So, is that what you’ve learned off at college?” you ask as he passed it to you. Jake laughed, getting up and going to his dresser. He changed the record that was playing and opened a drawer, pulling out a shirt and tossing it to you. You raised and eyebrow at him and he rolled his eyes.

“You can’t sleep in that bullshit you were wearing.” he said, pulling on a shirt for himself. You sat up and tugged the cotton material over your head. You reached down toward the end of the bed, where your panties were when Jake stopped you with his devilish smirk. “You’re not gonna need those for a while."

#jake x reader #jake kiszka #jake kiszka x reader #greta van fleet #sam kiszka #danny wagner #josh kiszka #greta van fic #there may be a part 2 to this?? i'm thinking of making a small thing of it idk

[svnflowervol666]

hey! can you write one where harry invites y/n and his band mates out for drinks and they try to hand her a drink but she reveals she previously by saying like “you can’t drink when your pregnant” ...

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: I combined this one with a request for where Harry constantly refers to Y/N as his “ex-girlfriend,” because they’re engaged now. ((Super cute. Super corny. Makes my heart mush. Anyway.)) Kinda short but still sweet. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! Take care and TPWK.

“There she is!” 

His voice is drowned out by clanking glasses and the heavy bass of whatever rock song was playing through the shitty speakers in the corner of the room, but it was unmistakable nonetheless. Followed by his “greeting” were the shouts and howls of the rest of the bunch, most of them raising their glass in honor of her (late) arrival.

“My ex-girlfriend!”

Harry, despite his inebriated state, smiled widely and welcomed her as protectively as he always had in the past few weeks - relieving her person of any bags or extra weight, this time being her coat and purse which he hung on the brass hooks underneath the bar table, and inspecting her facial expression for any signs of discontent or worry. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when he kicked his “dad-mode,” tendencies into overdrive, but it certainly began on that rainy, Thursday night in their shared bathroom as they sat against the wall of the bathtub with four positive pregnancy tests in both of their hands.

“Really wish you’d stop calling me that, Har,” she sneered as he helped her shake her arms loose from her coat.

“One of these days you’re gonna cause a scene.”

“'S true, though,” the drunken boy giggled.

“You’re not m’ girlfriend anymore. You’re my fiance.”

She shook her head and rolled her eyes at his antics, intending to pull him in for a quick hug and kiss when her attention was drawn away from her curly-headed brunette and towards the man of the hour.

“Y/N!” 

“Hello, birthday boy,” her voice was mellow against the drunken slur that had started to take over her friend, Mitch’s.

“‘S not very nice of you to be late to my party,” he slurred as he pulled her in rather harshly for a bone-crushing hug.

“Sorry, got caught up with some work stuff,” Y/N managed to get out through a chuckle in between Mitch’s squeezing.

She saw Harry stiffen out of the corner of her eye, like he was torn between yelling something akin to, “Take it easy on her, mate. She’s pregnant for christ’s sake,” or letting the interaction play out. He knew he wasn’t allowed to do the former, as they’d agreed to wait until they could have all of their friends and family over at the same time to tell them the good great news, so Harry opted to let Mitch hug her extra tight despite his unrealistic, dramatic worries that he’d crush her fragile frame or hurt the baby in some way. She made sure to send a reassuring smile Harry’s way when Mitch let her go from his grasp.

Short and sweet was her greeting to Sarah, both of them opting to kiss one another on the cheek.

“Let me see it one more time,” her voice was quiet amongst the chatter of the bar, almost sounding like a whisper.

Y/N felt the heat climbing to her cheeks as she let Sarah take her hand in hers to examine the ring on her fourth finger. The band was gold and slim, adorned with a dainty yet sizeable single diamond in the very center. 

“So pretty,” she gushed, admiring the way the gem flittered, even in the dim, tungsten-glow of the bar.

Y/N muttered a quiet “thank you,” before making her away back to the other side of the table where Harry was waiting for her with an outstretched arm, yearning to get back to what they had been doing before Y/N had to make her rounds.

As he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, Y/N caught wind of the tequila on his breath. She tasted it too, when she pecked his lips quickly and - oh god, did she taste stout as well? Maybe she’d end up taking care of him later tonight when his head was stuck in the toilet, but that seemed plenty fair considering how often Harry had been doing the same exact thing for her here lately.

“Yeh alright? Had me all worried when ya said you’d be late,” Harry’s question was asked lowly so that only she could hear.

Harry had been with Mitch and Sarah all day celebrating, hence this was the first time he’d seen Y/N since this morning when he kissed her and sent her off to work.

Y/N nodded and smiled, though her face led Harry to believe differently.

“Got sick when I got home from the office. Just took me a little bit longer to get out the door,” she shrugged, insinuating that it wasn’t a big deal, but that she wasn’t feeling one hundred percent ready-to-party either.

“Baby,” Harry half-scolded her, feeling a good portion of his buzz leave his body when Y/N mentioned that she hadn’t felt well.

“Why didn’t yeh just tell me you were sick? Coulda came home and sat with you.”

“I wasn’t going to ask you to ditch your best friend’s birthday dinner just because I was throwing up for the fifteenth time this week,” she was stern in her words and made it clear that she was fine.

“I’m alright. I promise.”

Harry’s jaw softened at her proclamation, the muscles in his torso easing up from their tense position.

“Oi! Will you two stop whispering and get drunk with me?!” Mitch shouted across the table, bursting the bubble that had temporarily surrounded the couple whilst they talked about their sweet little secret that they were dying to tell everyone about.

“You,” Mitch pointed his finger towards Y/N’s head.

“Shots. Now,” he gestured to the bartender making drinks on the opposite end of where their table was.

Both Y/N and Harry chuckled nervously, unsure of how to work around the fact that Y/N couldn’t drink without spilling the beans.

“Think I need to get some food in my stomach before I do that. Why don’t you take Harry,” Y/N urged Harry forward by his shoulder and prayed it would be enough to entertain the drunk boy.

“Fine,” Mitch glared.

“It’ll just make it hard for you to catch up later then!”

He grabbed Harry by the bicep and cleared through the crowd of people in order to get his liquor he was so keen about.

The conversation with Sarah was light, mostly about what all they’d done today and bets on if Mitch would end up needing to be babied for the rest of the night. Y/N successfully dodged Sarah’s questions about the wedding and how planning was going along, chalking it up to busy work schedules and failing to come to an agreement on a venue and date.

“Harry’s dead set on a summer wedding, but I’m fighting for a winter date,” she dismissed through a nervous chuckle when the reality was that they were unsure how to navigate planning a wedding around the arrival of their baby to make any more decisions.

It seemed like ages passed before the two men returned. Y/N was picking at the fries and sipping on the ginger ale Harry had ordered her before she’d gotten there but was interrupted when Harry and Mitch came barrelling back to the table.

He was drunk. Quite drunk. And Y/N knew that because his body felt even warmer and his eyes looked even hazier than before he’d left. She imagined they definitely had more than once shot at the bar, but she didn’t have much time to ponder that before she felt his hands snake around her waist and rest on her hips. She reciprocated his touch, looping her arms around his shoulders and laying her head against his chest.

“Love you,” Harry muttered into the soft spot between her jaw and ear, then his hands wormed their way under her shirt to rest on the underside of her tummy.

“Love you too,” he said again.

She could feel him smile against her skin as he cradled her almost non-existent baby bump from underneath her oversized sweater. Harry was the only one who saw her regularly enough to notice the minute changes her body had been going through. To everyone else, she still looked like plain, old Y/N.

“We love you more, but if you don’t stop canoodling me in the middle of this bar,” Y/N began, speaking light-heartedly and quietly in his ear, “Everyone’s going to find out and you won’t get to have that announcement party you’ve been planning for weeks now.”

Harry sighed, knowing she was right, and loosened his hold on her tummy and opting to sling an arm over her shoulder to at least keep her close instead.

“I know what you’re up to,” Mitch glared at the two of them from across the table.

This gained the attention of not only Y/N and Harry but Sarah as well. Everyone turned to look at Mitch, anticipating what he was going to say next.

“And what would that be, Mitchy?” Y/N toyed.

A pout formed on his face, arms quickly crossed his chest as he huffed.

“You’re trying to get out of here and leave me all alone on my birthday.”

“Guess I’m not even here then. I’m a hallucination,” Sarah baited with a roll of her eyes.

“We’re not trying t’ leave ya, mate. Promise,” Harry stuck his pinky out across the table as a gesture of sincerity.

“Are too.”

Mitch’s drunken rambles were beginning to sound quite childish now and became more amusing by the second.

“Are not, honey bun,” Y/N requited.

“Liars. Both of you.”

Mitch launched a bunched up straw wrapper in Harry’s direction that bounced off of his most prominent curl and landed somewhere near his feet.

“Where would we even go, hmm?” Harry taunted, resting his chin on the knuckles of his free hand that was leaned against the table.

“What could we possibly planned tha’ would be better than spending time with you lot on your birthday?”

They watched as Mitch’s remaining sobriety fought hard for an answer, but ultimately giving into his drunkness and murmuring, “Don’t know! Probably going off to screw each other or something!”

The table burst into laughter, and Y/N hid her face in Harry’s chest out of embarrassment. 

“Wouldn’t surprise me actually,” Sarah quipped before taking a huge sip of her cocktail.

“Look. Here’s the deal,” Mitch tried his best in his drunken stupor to be serious.

“Prove to me that you’re not gonna leave me and take another shot.”

“Fine,” Harry shrugged.

“Let’s go back t’ the bar then.”

He started to pull Mitch along but was stopped suddenly.

“No,” Mitch was quick to intervene.

“Y/N too. If you both drink, you can’t drive home and leave me,” he said proudly as if his idea was the smartest thing he’d ever come up with.

She knew it was only Mitch being sloppy drunk and acting like the idiot he always was, but Y/N couldn’t help but feel her palms begin to sweat. They couldn’t tell Mitch the real reason why she couldn’t drink with the group tonight, so she was quickly wracking her brain for another excuse now that she’d filled her belly with french fries since giving her last one.

But there was no need to think any further, as Harry stepped in for her.

“She can’t do tha’, mate. Now, c’mon. Let’s get some more tequila. Looks like Sarah needs another drink as well, hmm?”

Harry pinched his nose in annoyance. He was trying his hardest to keep this all under wraps, but Mitch was making it extremely difficult.

“Who are you? Her keeper? Telling her what she can and can’t do?” Mitch yelled.

“No, you nunce. She can’t drink because yeh can’t drink when you’re pregn-”

Fuck.

Harry clapped his hand over his mouth before he finished his sentence, but it was too late. He wasn’t sure what he was thinking when he said it. Wasn’t even sure if he was thinking at all, to be completely honest. He silently prayed that neither Mitch nor Sarah heard him, but he quickly realized that was untrue when they both stared between him and Y/N with wide eyes.

“Y/N L/N. Are you pregnant?” Sarah was the first to speak up.

Y/N felt like she was stuck in place, only able to look at Harry with a racing chest and her mouth agape. 

“I, um, I - yes?” It came out as more of a question due to her state of shock.

“I’m so fuckin’ sorry. Holy shit,” Harry exclaimed as he went back to Y/N’s side to console her.

He was spiraling in fear that Y/N was angry with him, but it was mostly the alcohol making him think so.

“You’re having a baby?” Mitch’s voice was unusually quiet for how loudly he had been yelling just moments ago.

“Yeah. We are,” she was laughing nervously as she spoke.

“Sorry that Harry ruined the surprise. We wanted to have a big party and tell everyone at the same time, but I guess the cat’s out of the bag for you guys.”

She rubbed Harry’s back with her palm, a silent reassurance for Harry that she wasn’t upset with him. Mitch and Sarah, however, they couldn’t read.

Mitch said nothing, only leaving his position beside Sarah to go stand in between Y/N and Harry. He looked at them both with an expression that resembled both anger and confusion, which only added to their discomfort.

In a split second, he had his arms around both of them, hugging them tightly.

“Holy shit! This is the best birthday present ever. Uncle Mitch and Aunt Sarah. What the fuck?!” he was rambling now, beaming from ear to ear as he ran over to pull Sarah, who was also losing her shit, just in her own seat and not on top of Harry and Y/N, into the group hug.

Their eyes caught each other in the midst of the friend-sandwich they were being forced to be a part of. A smile and knowing look were exchanged between them and they knew, despite it not coming out in the most fashionable way, their precious little bub would be surrounded by people that loved them dearly.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles imagines #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #dad!harry #dad!harry x reader #harry styles x pregnant!reader #asks

[princecharmingwinks]

i did the thing <3 and i'm back with a fail date that i'll leave open ended ;) was dating a chef and we went to a restaurant he wanted to try in the next town over. we order lunch, we're chatting, we're laughing, its going great. food comes out and he took one bite, he stopped smiling and whispered 'oh no...' XD

You did a thing!!! Hello!!! Welcome to the fold, fabulous to have you in the ranks. Hope you meet some nice beans :) Opened endings? Oh, we kicking up a notch haha.

--

Setting the scene - Derek is definitely the chef. No one should trust Stiles with sharp objects like knives. Derek is a werewolf and knows it's time to tell Stiles. They've been seeing each other for a few weeks and he's never felt this way about anyone. He wants to officially ask Stiles to be his boyfriend (why does he get butterflies everytime he thinks of that word?).

His family and pack (Laura and Erica in particular) have been dying to meet the human who has swept Derek off his feet. Not that he can blame them, Stiles is everything he has ever wanted and more. They just, click. But it was getting to the point that the women of the pack were threatening to stalk Stiles if they weren't formally introduced asap.

So Derek decided today was the day to ask Stiles to be official and start explanations of the supernatural kind. They'd travelled a town over to avoid the Hale pack's pesky eavesdropping. And to try out a new restaurant that's been getting rave reviews. The lunch was going well, they ordered and chatted and it was perfect.

The waiter places their food on the table and leaves. Derek swallows and is about to start explaining (how do you even start to tell someone that you have a desire to howl at the full moon?) when Stiles jumps in first.

"So are you finally going to tell me your secret?" Stiles asks, all big eyes and soft smiles.

Derek's heard of gay panic but is there such thing as wolf panic?

Derek is too caught up with the question to even register the mild but unusual scent of his meal. He takes a bite to try and calm himself...and internally curses.

"Oh no..." he whispers.

Stiles frowns and watches as Derek swallows his mouthful slowly and grimaces in the direction of the kitchen. He follows the movement as sees two stunning - like model stunning - women wave from the kitchen peak hole. One with dark straight hair and the other with blonde ringlets, both with predatory smiles.

"Do you know them?" Stiles cocks his head in confusion.

Derek looks like he ate a lemon, "This cannot be happening."

"What’s going on?" Stiles reaches out for Derek's hand which the other man takes and interlocks their fingers.

The women have left the confines of the kitchen and are walking over to their table now.

Derek gives a tight smile, "If we survive this, I'll buy you all the curly fries in the world."

"Oh Der-Bear, brother of mine!" The brunette is calling out in a sing-song tone.

It all clicks in Stiles' brain. He grins and gives Derek's hand a squeeze, "If we survive this, promise to marry me one day."

Derek doesn’t get a chance to answer that particular request when the women have reached the table. When first meeting someone, the usual custom was to introduce yourself and ask to join the meal. These women did not get that memo.

The brunette, Derek’s sister slides into the booth blocking Derek’s escape routes, the blonde does the same to Stiles, snuggling in close.

Derek sighs the way only a brother could, “Stiles, meet my older sister, Laura and my friend - although at this moment I’m not too sure why - Erica.”

Derek should have known something was up when he found the latest restaurant reviews magazine left open on the dining room table. He had assumed it was left out by his mum, the two of them often discussing the latest food trends. He hadn’t thought it was left as a trap by his manipulative pack mates. But the moment the ever-so-light sprinkle of wolf’s bane had touched his lips, Derek knew he was in trouble.

How the two biggest trouble makers in his life had managed to find out the exact details of his date and get themselves access to the kitchen was beyond him but he imagined it had something to do with their feminine prowess (or their intimidation tactics) both equally as strong. 

He was still trying to process how Stiles could know about his wolf and now he had to manage these two? 

“What are you two doing here?” Derek reluctantly asks.

Erica grins, a dangerous twist of crimson red lips, “You’ve been keeping Stiles a secret for too long, Derek. We had to take proactive measures.”

“And ambushing my date was the best way to do that?”

“We’ve gotta make sure Stiles can handle the unexpected.” Laura ‘helpfully’ supplies.

“I don’t mind thinking on my feet.” Stiles interjects. 

Derek is in awe of this man. How did he find someone so perfect?

“So are you all werewolves or just the Hales?” Stiles asks. The three wolves all stop and blink at him. 

“What, is that not the right terminology? Is lycanthrope more appropriate?”

Erica is the first to break the silence, almost doubling over from the force of her laugh. Laura is joining in too.

Derek on the other hand is just in plain shock. “You knew?”

Stiles shrugs, “I’m a curious creature. I research. And things didn’t always add up with you. Like you are way too good looking to be just human. And there’s the whole tendency to growl when things get - ah - heated.”

“We are so keeping you! Come over for dinner tonight so you can meet the whole pack.” Laura announces, not waiting for an answer. She kisses Derek on the cheek and rises up from the booth. Erica follows suit and throws Stiles a wink before the two of them walk out of the restaurant with linked arms.

Derek breaths a sigh of relief. 

“So did I pass the test?” Stiles asks, moving over to sit beside Derek in the booth. Derek lifts his arm and draws Stiles in. 

“You were perfect.” He kisses the human’s forehead. “You are perfect.”

“You going all soft on me now, Hale?” 

Derek smirks, “Do you like my last name?” 

Stiles crinkles his eyebrows in confusion, “Yeah?’

“Do you wanna keep it?" Derek is full-on smiling now, little bunny teeth and all. “That was the rule, right? We survive this and I marry you?”

Stiles blushes at the memory, “Only if you buy me all the curly fries in the world. And we are hypernating, Mr Old-School. I’m always going to be a Stilinski in one way or another.”

“Done.” Derek whispers as he leans in and kisses Stiles.

Derek wasn’t sure why he was ever nervous to make things official. Somehow he had gone from worrying about the title ‘boyfriend’ to this. They still needed to have a proper conversation and he knew the human would have excel spreadsheets of questions about the supernatural. But as Stiles’ hands cupped his jaw and pulled him in for another kiss, Derek thought those discussions could wait.

Now they just had to meet the rest of the pack - oh no...

--

Ta da! Hope you liked it my friend. This one was fun to write. Can you tell I like big happy Hale alive families? Because I certainly do. Also, my version of Laura will forever and always be played by Meghan Ory (just as a fun fact). Thanks for popping in!

#sterek #teen wolf #derek hale #stiles stilinski #princecharminganswers #princecharmingwrites

[thesoftdumbass]

somethin' to think about

Frankie Morales x reader (feminine pronouns)

word count: 3,800

warnings: caffeine dependency, cheesy movies, the beginning of one curse word but no more. platonic Santiago x reader and Benny x reader. very fluffy and kind of silly but that's how I like it.

summary: Frankie and his daughter have found a home in Stars Hollow, and the single father/diner owner has to admit that he's found a soft spot in his heart his favorite customer.

> my masterlist

Francisco Morales, a newly single father, wanted to settle down and start a new life for himself and his daughter. After stumbling onto Stars Hollow, a quaint and quiet, friendly little town just a little ways away from his hometown, he decided that it would be the perfect place to begin again. The old hardware store that closed down years earlier was priced well and had an apartment above the shop, so with some hard work, Frankie turned it into a diner to sell the food he grew up learning to make from his mother, as well as the stereotypical diner food that he and his brothers in arms missed while they were serving overseas. Life was good in Stars Hollow, Frankie and his daughter being accepted by the welcoming if not nosy townspeople, and now he and the diner had become a staple in the quiet hamlet.

The bell above the door chimes with the entry of another customer and Frankie looks up from writing in his order book to see you heading his way, already grabbing an overly large mug that he keeps on hand just for you.

“Coffee coffee coffee,” you demand lightly and Frankie huffs.

“You sound like you’ve had plenty today already,” he says, filling the mug anyways and sitting it in front of you at your usual seat along the counter.

“Oh nonsense, there’s no such thing,” your tone and face both hold a smile and Frankie can’t help the way his heartbeat jumps in his chest at this.

“One of these days I’m going to start slipping you decaf.”

A gasp leaves you, faux offended at the threat. “You wouldn’t dare!” Frankie’s affirming hum distracts you for just a moment before you start mixing your coffee just the way you like it. “You would lose a very loyal customer, Morales. I’d have to start getting my coffee at Weston’s.”

Frankie’s scoff brings the smile back to your face, as it’s obvious that neither of you will live up to your threats. “Besides, you know I can’t survive a day without the elixir of life, and yours is the best in town.”

“Of course it’s the best, I’m just saying that your heart may soon explode from caffeine intake.”

“And what a sweet, sweet death that will be, my friend. Keep’em coming.”

Frankie has to bite his lip to hide a smile, distracting himself by adjusting the cap on his head so it sits backward. The former pilot may maintain a grumpy exterior at times, but you’ve become a bright spot in his day and your bickering never holds any heat. Another customer needs a refill so he leaves you to your ‘elixir of life’ and heads over, making rounds about the diner to make sure everybody’s happy. When he comes back to the front of the counter, there’s a mop of curly brown hair sticking up behind the thing, a rustling noise being heard from beneath.

“Evie?” At her father’s questioning tone, there’s a bump against the underside of the counter, a muffled “ouch” making its way to his ears. A sigh leaves his lips as his daughter stands from her crouched position, brown eyes locking with his. “You alright, mija?” A quiet “yes” is his answer, so he has to ask the question on his mind. “And why were you crawling around on the floor of the diner?”

A quiet chuckle leaves your lips as the young girl looks shyly at her father, then at you, before answering. “I was looking for my book. I can’t find it, and I thought I might’ve left it back here.”

Evie has so many books that Frankie can’t keep up sometimes, but before he can ask which one she’s looking for in particular, you pipe up beside him. “I think I saw The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy in the library at the inn. Is that the one you’re looking for?”

“Yes!” She brightens, eyes wide. “I must have left it when I was doing homework there the other day.”

“If you want you can come to the inn and grab your book after school, and I can make some homemade hot chocolate just for you. If your dad is okay with it, of course.”

Two sets of eyes turn to Frankie questioningly, and he couldn’t say no even if he wanted to. “Of course you can go, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, daddy!” She leans across the counter and kisses him on the cheek. “Thank you Y/N.”

“Anytime, sweetie,” you giggle, her cheery attitude infectious.

Frankie looks at the clock on the wall above the counter before addressing his daughter. “Why don’t you go grab your backpack and I’ll walk you to school?”

Evie hums in affirmation and makes her way into the apartment that she and Frankie live in above the diner to continue getting ready for the day. Frankie watches her go before turning to you, only to notice you down the rest of your coffee.

“Do you want one to go?”

“Do you even have to ask?” Your teasing smirk turns into a grateful smile as Frankie steps back behind the counter and pulls out a styrofoam cup with a lid, filling it with the caffeine that you crave. “You’re too kind to me, Francisco.”

“It’s not on the house if that’s what you’re gunning for,” he teases and you fake a pout.

“It never hurts to try, does it?” You stand from your stool, pulling your coat tight around you and reaching for the full cup in front of you. “I’ll settle my tab later. Do you want me to walk Evie back here, or do you wanna pick her up tonight?”

“You’re gonna be here for dinner anyways, I know you’re too tired to cook for yourself after the Friday brunch special. You can just bring her with you if it’s not too much trouble.”

"Your daughter? Trouble? Please,” you laugh it off. Evie was really a perfect child, you and her have gotten along famously since the beginning. Frankie chuckles, nodding along because of course you’re right. “I’ve gotta head to work. I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah, have a good day,” he waves you away with a small smile, picking up a cloth to wipe down the counter as he waits for Evie to return downstairs.

A long sigh escapes you as you sink into your seat in the diner, your back relieved to sit after running around the kitchen most of the day. Evie settles into the chair across from yours, copying your sigh and both of you make eye contact before bursting into giggles, smiles on both of your faces. Frankie finds you like that, and he can’t help the way his lips twitch up at the sight.

He makes a show of pulling out his order pad and pencil, rolling up his sleeves in the process. “Ah, my two best customers. What can I get for you?”

You hum thoughtfully, opening the menu and observing it as if you haven’t eaten here multiple times a week for years now. “I’m not sure, what would the chef recommend?”

“Well, the daily special is-”

Frankie is cut off as you snap the menu shut, placing it on the table before folding your hands overtop of it decisively. “On second thought, I’ll have the lobster. What say you, madam?” You look toward Evie still across from you, an eyebrow raised and she plays along.

“I believe that the filet mignon and foie gras will do for tonight. And we shan’t forget a chocolate souffle for the table.” The eleven-year-old provides an astounding performance, a posh accent accompanying her words.

The two of you make eye contact for a split second, and your pretenses drop as you once again dissolve into laughter. Frankie only rolls his eyes, accustomed to your antics, though he doesn’t bother to hide the chuckles you elicit. “You two are ridiculous. Burgers and fries it is, then?”

“Why of course, my good sir. And a diet coke for me, please.” He nods and walks away, putting your order in the window and checking on his other guests.

When he comes back to the dining room after speaking with the line cook about another order, there’s someone occupying one of the seats at your table. Your laugh rings out through the diner as Benny, one of Frankie’s old friends, occupies your attention, and Frankie overhears the story being told as he approaches.

“-and suddenly we have to book it out of the river and leave our clothes on the bank. We end up stranded in the jungle, every one of us buck a-”

“Not in front of the kid, Miller,” Frankie chastises as he claps a hand on his friend’s shoulder in greeting.

Benny just laughs as you lean in and murmur conspiratorially, “but you’ll fill me in on the rest later, right?”

“You know it,” and he sends a wink your way as you lean back in your seat, a satisfied smile on your face.

Frankie hears a call go out from the kitchen window that order’s up, and after returning to your table with two plates of food, he takes the last empty chair. You and Evie dig into your food as he talks with his old friend for a few minutes. “When is Will coming in?”

“Tomorrow afternoon. I tried to get him to drive in with me tonight but he decided not to leave his new fiancee until he has to,” Benny rolls his eyes at his brother’s sappy attitude but you and Frankie can tell that he’s happy for him.

The pilot nods, “Pope texted me a little while ago, he’s on his way now.” With a thought coming to him, Frankie grabs your attention with an utterance of your name. “Are you still good with girl’s night?”

With an eager nod, you take a sip of your drink before answering. “Absolutely. I’m already set up for snacks and drinks, and I’ll be scouring my movie collection tonight to find something for us to watch.”

The boys hum in acknowledgment but Evie just laughs softly. “You know we’ll just watch the same thing as always.”

It’s sort of a tradition. Frankie’s best friends from the service don’t live that far away from each other, so every few months they meet up in one of their towns. While they catch a fight or simply hang out and get drinks, you offer to watch Evie, and your weekends together have evolved into binge-a-thons of junk food snacks and cheesy old horror movies.

“And what about it? You know we both have a soft spot for the classics.”

You finish your dinner, fully entertained by the lively conversation, which is only heightened when Santiago arrives at the diner. He and Benny end up eating as well and keeping Frankie on his toes between tables with stories. You might have heard them a half-dozen times before over the years, but you still enjoy the hell out of them, the reminiscences getting even spicier after Evie goes to bed for the night.

Your long workday gets to you eventually and by the time you’re stifling your fourth yawn in five minutes, your company starts to notice.

“You look like you’re ready for bed,” Frankie points out softly.

You hum in acknowledgment, shrugging your shoulders. “I could just drink a cup of-”

“You are not getting any more coffee today, and that’s final.”

“Fine, fine,” you assent to his good-natured firmness.

“C’mon hermosa, I’ll drive you home on my way to the inn. You reserved a room for me, right?” At Pope’s question, you nod.

“‘Course I did, Santi. Can’t have you sleeping on the streets, now can I?”

Santi snorts and stands from his chair, grabbing his jacket off the back of it and tugging it on. “I think if it came down to it, I’d rather bunk with you for the night.” His comment is paired with a cheeky wink and you roll your eyes with a laugh.

“As if you would be invited to bunk with me, sweetheart.”

Santi clutches his chest with mock hurt. “You wound me!”

You smile before bringing a hand up to hide another yawn, and Santiago nods his head to the door. “Alright drama queen, let’s go before I fall asleep on my feet.” You turn to address the rest of your small group, “I’ll see you guys tomorrow! Benny, you didn’t forget your room key again did you?”

A momentary look of panic crosses the man’s face as he pats his pockets before finding the object. “Ah! Got it,” he says proudly, showing it to you.

You shake your head with a laugh at Benny and his forgetfulness. “Alright, goodnight everybody.”

Frankie makes sure the kitchen is clean and everything put away before sending the staff home for the night, the last remaining customer his sometimes-pain-in-the-ass friend. He’s just finished wiping down the other tables and grabbed the salt and pepper shakers to refill, taking a seat across from Benny when the other man looks up from his phone.

“So when are you finally gonna boss up and ask Y/N on a date?”

Frankie’s head bobs like a toy as he looks up at the unexpected words, his brow furrowing a second later. “Pardon?”

Benny stretches his legs out, leaning back in his chair in a relaxing stance. “You heard me. You two would be perfect together, and it’s not hard to see that you’ve got it bad for her.”

Frankie just stares at Benny, unamused eyes fixed on his face for a moment before he sighs, taking the cap off his head and rubbing a hand down his forehead tiredly. “I don’t have time to kill you right now Benny, come back later.”

“She’s got it bad for you, too.” Frankie’s head whips up at this, a hopeful gleam in his eyes, and Benny continues talking. “Look, you both have feelings for each other, you see each other every day, and her and your kid get along famously. And everybody knows you’re going to end up together. Last time I was here I even heard her neighbor and that Kirk guy making a bet on which one of you would make the first move.”

Frankie mutters something about “town gossips” under his breath.

“I want you to be happy, man,” Benny says genuinely, the mood shifting.

“I am happy,” Frankie defends gently.

“But not as happy as you could be. I just think you should go for it, tell Y/N how you feel.” Benny stands from the table, clapping Frankie on the back and pulling his friend into a hug when he does the same. “Somethin’ to think about. I’ll see you tomorrow, man.”

Frankie locks the door to the diner behind Benny as he leaves, flipping the old-fashion open sign to closed. Turning around to lean his back against the door, he closes his eyes, considering the possible outcomes for doing exactly what his friend said. It could end awkwardly with neither of you knowing how to act around each other and you avoiding his diner like the plague. Or, the more attractive prospect, it could lead to something he had only imagined, a life with you by his side.

“Somethin’ to think about,” he repeats to himself, making his way to the apartment upstairs to get ready for bed.

“Everett Amaya Morales, I cannot believe you just said that!” When she only shrugs at you, a brow raised with as much sass as an eleven-year-old can muster, you scoff and cross your arms over your chest in slight indignation. “So you would rather wax Bigfoot’s legs than give Frankenstein’s Monster a makeover?”

She looks at you as if it’s an obvious answer, but to you, it’s anything but. “Yeah! Aren’t you curious how much there is?”

“Oh, there’s twelve pounds of leg hair at least, but I would be afraid for my own safety! One bad rip and Squatch could rip my arm off. Frankenstein’s Monster, on the other hand, has daddy issues and no friends, and I for one think that doing his makeup would be a very good bonding experience. Besides, how do you know that Bigfoot wants their legs waxed?”

“How do you know they don’t,” is her rebuttal.

You sigh theatrically, shoulders deflating in defeat. “Ah, yes, the Sasquatch don’t live by societal gender roles.”

When Evie simply laughs at your reply, you stick your tongue out at her and she returns the gesture before collapsing back against the arm of the couch.

“How could I eat so much takeout and still want ice cream?”

“Well you’re in luck, my friend. I went by the ice cream section when I was at the market earlier, and since I know it’s your favorite, I happened to grab a tub of cookies and cream.”

She looks up at the mention of her favorite flavor. “Extra chunky oreo?”

“Only the best for you, dear,” you respond and laugh as she only throws her arms over her face dramatically.

“But I’m still so full!”

“Eh, the ice cream melts in your stomach and fills in the cracks between all the other food. You’ll be fine.”

Poking her head up from the couch, she looks at you disbelievingly. Or like you’re crazy. Or both. “Yeah...I don’t think the digestive system works like that.”

“Oh it definitely doesn’t, that’s just something my great uncle used to say so we wouldn’t judge him for eating ice cream after a big dinner. That side of the family is obsessed with frozen treats. I, unfortunately, inherited that gene.”

“So…..ice cream?”

“Ice cream,” you concur, getting up to grab some bowls of the sweet stuff for the two of you to eat on the couch as you resume the movie that was interrupted by your earlier disagreement.

You must nod off because you wake to your phone alerting you to a new text. It’s Frankie, telling you that he’s on his way to your place to pick Evie up. Door’s unlocked, you reply as an invitation to come inside when he gets here.

You’re only half paying attention to the television when Frankie lets himself in, shutting the door quietly behind himself so as to not disturb movie night. You meet his eyes and nod your head toward Evie, who fell asleep in a pile of blankets on the floor a little while ago, and in the dim light from the tv, you see his eyes soften with a smile.

“She’s out cold,” you murmur when he gets closer to you. You pat the couch next to you, noticing the way he seems a little tired after his night out. “Boys night end early?”

Frankie looks at his watch, squinting to read the time in the low light. “It’s two am.”

“Ah,” you yawn. “That must be why I’m so sleepy.”

Frankie chuckles quietly, accepting the silent invitation to sit down with you. When you scoot closer to him on the couch bringing your fuzzy blanket with you, he can’t help but breathe you in, enjoying this moment, Frankie reaches for your hand that’s now wrapped comfortably around his arm, rubbing circles across the back of it with his thumb.

You watch the movie in comfortable silence for a little while, only half paying attention, before you break it. “D’you have fun tonight?”

Frankie hums an affirmative, leaning his head over on yours against his shoulder as he does so. “Did my two favorite girls have a good time watching terrible movies?” Your comment about bad movies being the backbone for modern cinema dies in your throat when Frankie’s words sink in. His two favorite girls? Plural?

You look up at him, eyes soft, and you know that if he looked down at you right now he would be able to see the adoration on your face, so you press your head further into his shoulder. “The two of us always have a good time.”

Unbeknownst to you, Frankie is watching you with the same adoration on his face, as he can’t help but thank whatever higher powers that he and Evie found you in this little town. As he feels his chest swell with warm feelings, he thinks once again of what Benny said. If Frankie confesses his feelings for you and you don’t reciprocate, things may get awkward, but if you feel the same and he never finds out, he could hardly live with it. Besides, as he spends time with you, Frankie has a suspicion that your feelings may be on the same plane as his.

Frankie’s hand that’s been moving circles across yours stops, and instead, he grips your hand in his, surrounding it with warmth. You turn your face back to Frankie’s and meet his eyes, and the breath hitches in your chest at how close the two of you are. “I think you and I would have a good time too.”

His deep voice in your ear sends a shiver down your spine and your lips turn upward in a gentle smile. “Yeah?” Your voice sounds breathy to you, but you can’t find it in you to care when he’s looking at you like that.

“Yeah,” when Frankie’s nose brushes against yours, you can’t hold in the sigh that leaves your lips, your eyes closing in contentment. When he speaks again, Frankie’s breath ghosts over your lips, and warmth fills you.

“The guys were asking about spending the day with Evie tomorrow, they wanna have some time with their niece before they leave.” You hum softly, prompting him to keep talking. “I was thinking that while they do...it would be nice for the two of us to do something together.”

“Like a date,” you ask, your eyes opening once again. You’d hate to bring that up and be wrong, but your need for confirmation outweighs the risk of possible embarrassment.

When he nods, your fears dissipate and a smile lights up his face in the dark. “Definitely like a date.”

You bite your lip, looking down as your face warms, but Frankie reaches a hand to cup your chin, a silent encouragement to meet his eyes. The heat you find in them permeates you, and you find yourself nodding shallowly. “I’d love to go on a date with you, Francisco.”

“Yeah?” Frankie finds himself asking this time, his heart picking up speed at your affirmative repetition.

With a kiss placed oh so delicately to your forehead as if he’s reassuring himself that you feel the same way, Frankie turns back to the awful movie currently flashing across the tv screen. You follow suit, content to discuss the details of your date with Frankie later, a smile spreading across your cheeks even as you try to suppress it. With Frankie’s hand now back to holding yours and your head on his shoulder, you doze off, the presence of your two favorite people a comfort. And even in your dreams, you can’t wait to go on a date with your grumpy diner owner.

Me, writing another single father AU with one of my favorite characters even though I don't want kids? It's more likely than you think! This idea has been bouncing around in my head for a while (a la Luke and Lorelai except a little different) and I'm glad I finally let it out for y'all. If you enjoyed it, please let me know! And I'd love your recommendations for which Pedro or Oscar character I should write for next. Thank you lovelies for reading!

If you’d like to be notified when I post something new, message me or send an ask and I’ll add you to any one of my tag lists 💜 (I'll be reforming my tag list, so I'm not tagging anybody this time!)

#frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x reader #catfish x reader #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #francisco morales #triple frontier fic #triple frontier #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal characters #if the title sucks that's because it is the literal last thing i did other than these tags #i'm still watching gilmore girls and i'm finally almost done with it #but a few seasons ago i had to stop myself from searching luke danes fics #so this is what i did instead #you're welcome i guess lol #and the story about the ice cream is true. that's my uncle danny's logic behind eating dessert right after dinner #my family famously loves ice cream haha #triple frontier au #gilmore girls au #triple frontier fanfiction #santiago garcia #benny miller