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mullermilkshake · 1 month ago

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Meet the family

Part 11 <- Part 12 -> Part 13

It's that important time, you're nervous and Jinwoo can't wait to share the news.

At 14 weeks, the twins are around the size of lemons.

Yandere!Jinwoo Sung x Fem Hunter!reader Tags- Pregnant reader, slight manipulation, arguing.

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I drew this baby bootie divider and I think IT'S CUTE AS FUCK, I'm no artist but I'm pretty proud.

EDIT - I have only watched the anime and haven't gotten round to reading the manhwa yet. Please refrain from spoilers.

At fourteen weeks, you agreed to try again and visit Jinwoo’s mom and sister.

Anxiously standing there, you fiddled with your sweater and tried your best to keep your baby bump hidden before the public announcement. Jinwoo had managed to convince the Chairman to hold off on it until he could inform those close to him.

He wanted to tell his mom and Jinah immediately when he found out you were pregnant, but you were able to change his mind and wait just a little while longer.

Your oversized sweater was more of a tool than a fashion statement when leaving the apartment, just until the public announcement. Many people who recognised you and Jinwoo were none the wiser. Some made eyes at your radical clothing change, their gaze shifting down to your stomach with nothing more than a suspicious gaze.

There was only so much time before others would notice you carrying twins and not attending gate raids anymore. Time was running out. Jinwoo was growing impatient. Your moods were all over the place.

Organised chaos.

“Don’t worry.”

“Hm?” You met his gaze, chewing on your bottom lip.

“I said, don’t worry. They’ll love you, especially my mom. And Jinah will be great, I practically raised her while my mom was unwell.”

“It’s not that, I just… you’re taking me to meet her with the add on of ‘oh, by the way, the girl I’m seeing is also pregnant with twins’. It doesn’t make for a good impression, Jinwoo...”

You saw yourself as the girl he was seeing? Talk about making progress. Jinwoo wanted to smile, to kiss you right there on the doorstep.

But you sunk down with a slouch, clearly with more things on your mind. "You're closer with your sister then if you cared for her like that... We never really talked much about our families- What if she doesn't like me? That can happen- they could both take one look at me and decide not to like me."

God, you were adorable.

“To be honest, I think my mom will be really pleased. I’m twenty five and my sister’s always harping on at me about bringing a girl home so, it’ll go better than you think.”

It should have settled you, yet Jinwoo saw the way the distance between your eyebrows closed ever so slightly. You did this cute little thing with your face when you were conflicted, a worried stare that Jinwoo saw as adorable.

“Just stay close, okay?” Jinwoo took your hand and laced his fingers in between yours, a happy smile playing in his face as he knocked the door. “I’ll always be here.”

The door opened quicker than Jinwoo expected, like his mom was waiting for his visit.

“Jinwoo, I’m so glad you’re here- and this must be your girlfriend.” She smiled softly and placed a hand to her cheek. “Aren’t you pretty. Oh, Jinwoo, come on in and settle down, Jinah will be home soon.”

He took you through to the living area whilst his mom hurried through to the kitchen.

“Girlfriend?” You whispered, it shouldn’t have stung as much as it did.

Jinwoo shrugged reluctantly and played it off as best as he could. “Sorry, I wasn’t sure what to tell her.”

He wanted you as his girlfriend, more than a girlfriend. You were to be the mother of his children and the only way to make everything right in the world was calling you his wife. Eventually, he’d ask you and you’d say yes when you were most vulnerable and understood that you could only rely on him.

Probably after the twins were born.

“So, tell me all about how you two met.” Jinwoo’s mom tiptoed in with a tray of tea, carefully placing it down on the table with one extra cup for Jinah.

It was surprising just how easily a lie dipped from Jinwoo’s lips, explaining some random story to him mom about how you and he met. It had nothing to do with the Hunter’s association.

And then came the kicker.

“So… about us, mom.” He took your hand again. “There’s something else that I wanted to talk to you about-“

“Hey, I’m home!” It was Jinwoo’s sister.

“In here, Jinah! Jinwoo’s here with his girlfriend!” It sounded pretty nice to hear his mom say your name.

I guess now’s a better time than any.

Jinah came into the living area beaming, grinning right at you. “Hey! So my brother finally brought a girl home, huh? Hey, I recognise you from the television, you’re a hunter too- you’re so pretty-“

“Woah, Jinah.” He practically pushed her away, taking note of how well you were enduring the overwhelming presence of his baby sister. “Give her some space, there’ll be plenty of time to get to know each other. There’s something important we wanted to talk to you both about before it’s made public, so would you listen?”

“Sorry! I can get carried away sometimes.”

Jinwoo’s mom smiled and put her hand on his knee. “Go ahead. Tell us all about what you want to say. We’re listening.”

“Uh…” The colour drained from your face, looking to Jinwoo for an answer.

“Mom, Jinah…” He looked at you with such adoration when he said your name. “She’s pregnant.”

“Oh my god…”

“Really? Oh, that’s wonderful news!” The reactions Jinwoo expected, but they were expecting one baby. Not two.

“That’s not all.” He said, pulling up your sweater to show your little baby bump. “We’re having twins.”

That’s when the shock really sank in. “Twins?”

“You’re going to have two of you running around, Jinwoo?” Jinah was ever the one to put it eloquently.

“Yeah.”

“Jinwoo, is that apartment big enough for two babies? Do you need me to come and help when they’re born?”

“Well…” You cut in, looking everywhere except the three people in the room. “The Chairman has offered support from the hunter’s association to help us, there’s a facility that has resources to help us… so…”

Your voice trailed off when you saw Jinwoo’s involuntary expression. He didn’t mean to look at you the way he did, but it sounded a lot like you were thinking of giving his babies away to the association’s facility.

Swallowing hard, you smiled at his mom and sister. “But we haven’t decided on the later stuff just yet…”

Jinwoo halted himself in the silent room, trying to stop is hands from shaking. “Mom, I think we better go now, I promise we’ll come over soon.” He stood abruptly and made his way straight to the door without you, knowing you'd follow.

“Now? You’ve only just got here.”

“Sorry, it’s been a long day. I just remembered that I forgot to do something… y’know, errands.”

Like hell you were going to give the babies to the care of the association. He wanted to get to the bottom of this and quickly, his compulsion to protect his children stung heavier than ever right in his gut to ensure their safety. He just never thought that he’d be protecting them from you.

The next ten minutes were a blur, he said goodbye and sat in the car with you for longer before he had the courage to speak with you and not say something he’d deeply regret.

You just needed to see that having a family with Jinwoo was the best thing for you, and for his babies. You still had time before they arrived to see that the only place they belonged was in your and Jinwoo’s arms.

“Jinwoo, will you say something?” You were close to crying by the time he pulled over in a random street away from Headquarters.

“Why do you want to give our babies away?”

“N-no, not give them away. Don’t make me sound so cruel. You're taking words out of my mouth. But we’ll need some sort of support when they get here… I’m terrified, Jinwoo.” He listened for the clicking of your seatbelt as you turned. “What can we give them that can ensure they’re raised right- we can’t do that our own.”

What were you even saying? Jinwoo was the strongest hunter to come out of modern times, he fought Beru for goodness sake, there wasn’t anything he couldn’t do.

“Yes we can. We can give them everything- please don’t do this.”

“How? How can we give them everything- Jinwoo, we aren’t ready to take care of one regular baby, and we have two with S-Rank mana, one tantrum and whatever abilities they might have, they could destroy half the city. How are we equipped to deal with that? What if both of them inherit something from us and it gets out of control? People could want to exploit that and we can’t be there all the time.”

“We’ll find a way to suppress it until they’re old enough, we can do something. We can stop it somehow, but we can’t give up on them and let them fall into the Chairman’s hands. You of all people should understand that-“

“I do understand it! That's the issue!” You were crying now, wiping your eyes as you talked faster, louder. More desperate. “I know we can't trust the association with them, but what other choice do we have? I can’t think of any viable options- I didn’t ask for this, I didn’t want to do any of this and now I’m pregnant with twins and it all changes for me, you get that, right?!”

He did, he really did. Even so, he would not have you raising any children on your own, it was his duty as the father to help raise his children. He’d be there like his dad should have been through his teen years, helping you and loving you to raise two beautiful children.

Still, he let you finish. “You get that the world keeps on turning for you, for Jong-in. But it stops for me, and for Hae-in. She’s being sent to this facility on her own so Jong-in can get someone else pregnant- they wanted me to go in her place. You can come and go as you please and I… I won’t be able to go on raids again- I still want to be a hunter, I can’t do it if I’m all on my own.”

Jinwoo shook his head vigorously, hoping the action alone would seek it to you. “You won’t be on your own. I’m here, I’m not leaving… Please don’t let the Chairman get his hands on our babies.”

“Jinwoo, you’re not getting my point-“

“I do get it.”

Should I tell her? Was it too soon to tell you how much he adored you, loved you and wanted to spend the rest of his life with you?

“I care about you, deeply. More than you know, and I want us all to be a family.”

You sat and watched him with wide eyes. He took the opportunity to continue. “I know you didn’t ask for this, and in another life, I would have asked you out and taken things slowly if you said yes. But we’re here, and we should make the most of this… we have the chance to have two healthy and beautiful babies that will no doubt look like you.” He chucked, taking your hand you gave him with no issue. “They’ll have your temperament, the cute thing you do with your nose when you smile and I’m sure they’ll have your taste in music too.”

You rubbed your belly, watching him with a look he hadn’t seen before. Total and utter fear. “Jinwoo… how are we going to take care of two babies, work and keep ourselves afloat all the time? The Chairman will want us to have more children if these two come out as strong as he thinks they will. He’s clearly taken an interest and I don’t think he’ll just move on to the next baby that has a mana reading like this.”

If you felt that way, why did you want to hand them over to the association? Jinwoo put it down to your changing hormones, lack of sleep and just wanting the best for your children. Your maternal side was late in showing, and even then it was inconsistent. In fact, your baby bump showed faster than your capability to adapt to motherhood.

Despite that, it was showing, little by little each day. When the babies were born, Jinwoo knew that from the moment you saw them wrapped up in their little blankets and woolly hats, you’d fall in love with them. Just as he would at the sight of the two little bundles in your arms after giving your all and making two wonderful little people.

On that thought, his frustrations melted away. “The Chairman won’t be a problem… I promise you.”

Jinwoo took both of your hands and held them tight, close. “He won’t demand us, not anymore. And money isn’t an issue, just let me worry about that. I’ll never leave you, you won’t ever be on your own. Ever.”

“Promise?”

“Yes. I promise. I swear on my life.”

Part 11 <- Part 12 -> Part 13

If you would like to be tagged, please let me know! Thanks so much for all the support on this likes, reblog and comments appreciated! ❤️

Tag list - @bubera974 @snowy-violet @sky2lar @starrynights23x @minh907

@yessirr7 @aussie-boys-wife @yihona-san06 @mashiromochi @daiyanomochi

@justatimidcreator @alia-17 @otomegamesforlife @m00n-estelle @towomatos

@stormnightingale @johnnysactualgf @solarisstarrsolomonsbeloved @johnnysactualgf @notleclerc

@minkuro @misakicchi @lovingyeet @soft-dots @gina239

@sabrina-senpai @tsukimoon-chan @afkmylajah @livelaughlovekuni @keiva1000

@delusionillusion322 @dreamingoftomorrow @gina239 @blxuqueenie @stardust0709

@chahaezii @athanasia10 @crutoyu @thetruepair @lostpsycho13

@dragoonsuki @sashagaming1012

DISCLAIMER - Crossposted from my AO3 - I do not own any of the characters or anything from the anime or manhwa. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

Also please don’t post any of my work without permission thank you!

#jinwoo sung x reader #solo leveling x reader #jinwoo x reader #x reader #solo leveling anime #solo leveling jinwoo #sung jin woo #sung jinwoo x reader #sung jinwoo #jinwoo #jinwoo x you #sung jinwoo x you #reader insert #fem reader #minors dni #pregnant reader

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dare-writes · 4 months ago

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Oh God Collection

For Valentine’s Day, Aaron surprises you with a treat.

Aaron Taylor Johnson x Female Reader

Slight Tangerine x Female Reader

genre: fluff, smut; 18+ MINORS DNI

wc: 4.8k

sexual content warnings: DUBCON, drunk sex, nearly cheating?, fingering, f!receiving oral, drunk-sex Aaron has an identity problem, couch sex, wall sex, stair sex, roleplay, degradation kink, mentions of a threesome, (technical selfcest?), unprotected p in v, creampie, cumplay, slight praise, hair pulling, wrist pulling, slut-shaming, dirty talk, overstimulation, i might have missed something, strength kink if you squint, implied breeding kink

content warnings: slight age gap (27/35), f!reader, tangerine dies and goes to another world, aaron taylor johnson x reader, established relationship, tangerine thinks your his girlfriend from his world, tangerine is lowkey just sad, and a russian lit major, tangerine misses lemon, tangerine gets a real name, aaron implies a threesome with reader and tangerine, lowkey slice of life for a little, unbetaed

the way there is so much more sexual content warnings, but there’s less porn than plot i’m pretty sure.

Happy late Valentine’s Day.

this went an entirely different direction than i planned it to go.

Honestly, you never got the chance to really watch Aaron’s projects except for the premieres he brought you to. You’d only begun dating before Bullet Train’s production, and for obvious reasons, he didn’t start taking you to carpet premieres until recently with Kraven and Nosferatu.

When you knew Aaron was returning, you’d relax in your shared apartment and put on any of his movies. Aaron lost count of how often he would come back when you were either sleeping through the credits or just at the end of a film. It was a pleasant surprise to see that when he saw the credits to one of his films. Aaron didn’t have a lot of films to watch with online streaming services, noticing you mostly do rewatches of his newer films like Bullet Train A Million Little Pieces, even kicking back into his 2010 films like Kick-Ass or (much to his surprise) Chatrooms.

His absence on Valentine’s Day was woeful, but he also said he deserved a little time with your partner despite his absence at the set of Fuze. It was fine enough that he would be out and about in London this time.

You managed to get out of university on Valentine’s Day. Most classes were on the four other days of the week, so you got to stay in and snooze this particular Friday. You knew having a partner in the film industry was going to be tough, so when Aaron told you he wasn’t free on Valentine's Day for some promotional stuff, you didn’t mind. He would find some grand way to make it up, and it was always more than perfect. It’s like he read your mind, knew when you wanted to stay in, and knew when you wanted to go out in town or just have a nice dinner.

For Valentine’s Day, you had your little dinner. An excellent pasta take-out meal and cue up any Aaron Johnson movie to exist across your various streaming platforms. (And the occasional pirating when you hooked your laptop to the TV.)

Aaron has seen your secret TikTok account, where you will mindlessly scroll between assignments or breaks from your university assignments. He’s also used it several times, even stalking through some of your reposts or saves. To your knowledge, he just went through your feed, not stalked your private Aaron Johnson edit collection called “Oh god.”

Throughout your lonely Valentine's Day, Aaron texted you randomly, sending a bouquet of your favorite flowers, sweet treats, and even a pretty dress with a card, saying, "We’ll make it up another day, my love." It was lovely and made you feel a little less alone. That and the plentiful edits saved in your Oh God collection you can always look back in if you miss Aaron extra.

Mindless scrolling was your third favorite hobby; number one was Aaron, and two was whatever activity your university friends wanted to do next.

By nine at night, you’d exhausted all your Aaron, Tangerine, Pietro, Count Vronsky, Sergei, Fredrich, Tom Ryder, and even Ford Brody edit sources.

A rattle came from downstairs, shocking you slightly as you crept around your bedroom. Light on your toes, you looked for the heaviest item you owned in the room.

“Dollface?” A voice called. It made your stomach twist. Was it Aaron? Why the hell was he putting on a different accent?

You crept downstairs. His facial scruff was gone. He was dressed in a navy suit with a waistcoat similar to the one Tangerine wore in the movie. The one thing that caught you off guard was the blood. It was ridiculous. Everything that was once white was now splattered red. Aaron looked great, you almost drooled at the sight of your boyfriend.

You just didn’t understand why he was dressed as Tangerine. Unless this was some sort of roleplay thing you once discussed ages ago.

“Aaron?”

“‘ Ou the hell is Aaron?'” not Aaron asked. That was undoubtedly Aaron’s face, though. His hair was no longer neat American military cut; it was longer, shaggier, and windswept.

“My boyfriend,” you answered as you raised your old laptop.

“The fuck you gonna do with an Apple laptop? Hit me?” He asked snidely. “Doll, whattrya on about? Last I checked, Doll, my name ain’t Aaron.”

He gestured his hands up and down his body like you should recognize him. You did recognize him, but there was no logical explanation as to why Tangerine was standing in your living room, blood dripping onto the hardwood floor. “No, this is fucking weird.”

Was this some weird roleplay thing? You and Aaron had talked about roleplaying and sex. If you had an actor boyfriend, you were doing roleplay without a doubt.

Before you could ask anything else to try to get a hint, Tangerine rolled his eyes and walked to the kitchen. His bloody hands opened his shirt to shrug off his equally bloody shirt and discard it to the sink to run cold water on it. After also washing his hands and checking his non-existent bullet wound, he was back up to you.

You let your defenses down; you had no clue what else to do. Common sense fell out the window when Aaron was around you. His slightly damp hands, gruff from seemingly his gun and all his fights, held your face. His gaudy gold rings were cold to the touch.

“Doll, I missed you… Lemon— where’s Lemon?” He asked as he realized his new location. He was back in London without his twin.

“I don’t know— you. Look, Aaron, is this what I think it is? We never even talked-” Tangerine didn’t even let you finish. His lips were on yours, kissing and biting down on your lower lip. Aaron was aggressive during sex usually, but never this much.

Something in you wanted to playback, be more than just the innocently confused girlfriend. You tried to pull away, but this was still Aaron, and you trusted him. You were no physical match for him. His hands reached and trailed down your body, racing to your pants. Even in his acting, Aaron was still the same when he was in a mood. It made you smile in the kiss.

His mustache tickled. You were used to it enough with Aaron. You finally pulled away, only for him to spin you and toss your torso over the back of the couch.

“Stop! No, I’m not your— Fuck!” You shouted as you tried to sit back up. His hand shoved you down, his other hand yanking down your sleep shorts.

“Fuck, you’re not my what? Hmm? Ya, not my doll anymore?” Tangerine asked gruffly. His lips connected to one of your lower back and bit down. You yowled in pain, his teeth leaving marks down your backside.

“I’m not your girlfriend! Or whatever! I— I’ve got a boyfriend, A—Aaron!” You cried falsely, you were used to Aaron rushing in the beginning. It was also probably a long day for him, you excused it. Also cause you missed him so bad today.

A quick trail from your clit to your hole, Aaron shoved his fingers inside with no hesitation. It was already sopping wet, but Aaron let cold spit drip out his lips and landed where his fingers plunged inside.

“God, Doll, yer still so tight for me,” Aaron said as he pushed his fingers, curling them gently. It didn’t matter despite your (false) protests because the front door opened soon after. “Baby, I’m back!”

Your heart stilled. He’s back?

“Oi! What the hell, Baby? Doll you-“

Something clattered into the floor, and you returned from your room. Aaron… Tangerine… In the same room.

“Aaron! Fuck!” You cried out as he made eye contact.

Aaron and Tangerine still. The same man looked back at one another—Aaron looked back at his 2022 film Character in disbelief. “Aaron— I-“

“Love, what the fuck is this?” Aaron asked. You hadn’t even realized the flush of tears running down your face.

“I don’t know! I thought— I thought you came back early from filming… Then we were kissing, and I— I don’t even know what to— I’m so confused,” you said as you tried to escape Tangerine.

His hands dug into you. His hand reached for his back, then remembered he was gun-less. His gold knuckle dusters glinted against the warm lights of the walls. “The fuck are you?”

“Her fucking boyfriend!” Aaron shouted. He stormed forward and shoved Tangerine off. You bent up from the couch and down to grab your panties from the floor to put on.

“Aaron, honestly, babe, I don’t think you could take him—he’s a murder.”

“I played him!”

“And he’s murdered probably over a thousand people.”

“That’s nice of you, doll, but it’s more like 250? I’m not a serial killer or mass murderer—“Both you and Aaron just stared at him.

“Okay, then if you aren’t… my dollface, then who are you? Cause ya got the same face,” Tangerine asked. His fingers twitched around, his eyes eyeing the slick left on his fingers. He wanted to taste it out of habit but held himself back. Aaron rubbed his face and just looked between you two.

“This is a terrible Valentine’s Day,” Aaron mumbled.

“What do you remember last?” You asked as you grabbed Aaron’s hand with a glare at his comment.

Tangerine looked down at his bloodied pants. “Getting shot by that idiot American.”

“Well, got that right,” Aaron mumbled. He looked exhausted. A wrapped box of more gifts for you was still at the entrance. He just got off work.

“Well, uhm. Tough luck… Tangerine—Fuckin— Can I just get your real name? You’re very much not there anymore in that world.”

“Fuckin’ Thomas,” he mumbled. His eyes bleared at the idea of his brother, the girl he left behind. He scrunched his nose and pretended to weld the tears away.

“Ironic. Yeah, this isn’t a good one to tell you,” you mumbled as you took your lip between your thumb and forefinger.

Aaron took control of this, explaining it all. Bullet Train is a book and movie; Aaron is an actor and plays Tangerine in the 2022 film. Hesitantly, he told Tangerine about his demise, the gunshot likely hitting an artery and killing Tangerine permanently.

Tangerine stilled once again. It’s like his world ended—at least, it did end for him. Entirely. He had nothing left for him here, not a real place to live or an identity to fall back on. He may be a prick, but he did just try having sex with his real person’s girl. He never did that kind of shit (on purpose.) He wouldn’t ruin Aaron Johnson’s life to get himself back into a business he hated and stuck to only because of what else he had.

“Aaron, can we talk?”

Aaron nodded, but not before giving Tangerine water, and you took Aaron into your room. Aaron dropped off a few stuff for Tangerine to wear instead of the sticky yet stiff with blood clothing he just died in. Tangerine left for the guest bathroom and waited anxiously. He was never without Lemon. Thomas was never without Tyler ever. After an hour to Tangerine, you and Aaron emerged again. Tangerine felt certain when he saw Aaron’s hand holding your lower back, but he bared face.

“He and I talked. You can stay here until you can get on your feet. I’m sure you could find someone to create an identity for you or something… But Aaron and I think kicking you out is unfair when you have nothing else.”

Half a year later, Aaron proposed. On August 14th, 2025, Aaron got down on one knee and finally asked you to marry him. You cried joyfully, and he spun you around like his long-lost princess. Tangerine wasn’t bitter. He didn’t say much about it other than congratulations, and he’ll find a way to attend to support the two of you.

Tangerine was glad for the two of you, but he missed his girl. She was known as Nightshade in the Assassin world, but he didn’t even know her real name for safety reasons. (A very sensual and intimate relationship that teetered on romance, but he didn’t wanna go in-depth with his new roommates.) He regularly confided in both of you about missing her. You and Aaron were emotionally secure between one another, periodically letting Tangerine open up to you two.

Tangerine didn’t see Aaron as a brother, but he had no male figure to rely on except Tyler. Aaron was awkward initially, but living Tangerine’s life out was weird for those months during Covid quarantine. Tangerine could have spent his time in therapy, but instead, he decided to try getting a college education.

Tangerine was known as Thomas Henley, an orphan who lived in the countryside and had no documentation about himself. Honestly, you and Aaron did your best not to know much. Thomas didn’t talk about it either, wanting both of you to have complete deniability.

Thomas was still here. None of you had an issue with him sticking around; you found it lovely. Around nine months, he had secured an identity and dyed his hair a frosty blonde. He cut his hair and dolled himself up, but he kept his face clean-shaven except for his mustache, which he maintained, occasionally trimming it shorter and letting it grow out.

You and Aaron said nothing as the two of you giggled. He looked so much like Count Vronsky when he returned home from the hairdresser. Again, you and Aaron giggled when you saw Thomas reading Anna Karenina for his major—Literature with a focus on Russian Lit.

Aaron was away again, filming another movie. You and Thomas sat around, working on your dissertation for what felt like the hundredth time, and Thomas was preparing for his undergraduate exams.

“I fucking hate this,” Thomas groveled over his school-provided laptop. He refused your and Aaron’s attempts to buy him anything. He lived here for free, and his campus job gave him enough money to save.

“You picked Russian Lit—“

“Fuck off.”

“Wanna watch a movie?” You had been waiting for Aaron to be here for this, but you couldn’t resist.

“Break?”

“Yeah,” you nodded as you stood up from the dining table. Thomas agreed, and you picked an Aaron Johnson Classic.

“It’s Anna Karenina—I don’t want to hear about any discrepancies from the original if there are any,” you added hotly before you pressed play. You always admired the cinematic take on the play, with a very stage-theater visual look. For the entire beginning, Thomas was quiet, his eyes overseeing it all.

He even took the time to learn Russian while taking Russian Lit to read Tolstoy in the original text. Thomas was the kind to talk during movies. He mumbled and smiled at the actress for Anna, mentioning she was what he pictured Anna to look like when he imagined her.

When Levin was introduced, you got up from the couch. You set up your phone in the corner against the books in the bookcase behind the couch and press the record button. Then, you returned with a fresh bag of popcorn and passed it to Thomas. The two of you watched. Thomas even liked the stage-theater take on Anna Karenina.

Then Count Vronsky brushed his shoulder against Levin’s and turned to face the ginger man. Thomas burst into a tirade. He grabbed the remote and paused on Aaron’s face. His tirade continued, unbelieving that you took this long to show him Anna Karenina, how you and Aaron were the worst roommates for keeping this secret.

You were sending this to Aaron later. You snagged the remote back and resumed the movie. He kept going, even taking his phone out to spam Aaron, uncaring if he was filming. You managed to get him to shut up when Count Vronsky and Anna danced, which was your favorite part. Aaron had taught it to you on one of your early dates together for fun. You were swooning as he lifted you effortlessly that day.

You watched Aaron with such desire, and Thomas saw it. Nightshade also looked at him the same way while they worked together.

That same night, Thomas apologized to you. You brushed it off, saying that you knew he didn’t mean to do anything terrible to you, even admitting you thought he was Aaron for a Valentine's Day surprise. Thomas snorted at you and rolled his eyes.

“And you’re planning on marrying him; you didn’t even know I wasn’t him,” he said sarcastically. You slapped your hand into his shoulder.

“You have the same face, same body, same fuckin’ hands–even down to your sexual mannerisms! And you never progressed past fingering me,” you rolled your eyes back. The topic was rarely discussed between you, but you and Thomas were best friends. you and Thomas was strictly platonic.

Occasionally, you wondered if Thomas saw Nightshade in you like you saw Aaron in him (except visually). Deep down, his actions perfectly matched Aaron’s. Five years of dating an actor, and being able to meet his character from another world or universe or whatever was ridiculous so to speak. Your heart twisted at the thought of Thomas no longer having Nightshade. You and him talk for a lot longer that night, never grazing on the topic of his arrival or his previous life again.

Aaron and you had bought a house, yet you hadn’t moved out because you were still attending university nearby. Aaron was finally back, no longer filming, and done with Fuze. He was here to plan the wedding. You and Aaron wanted a small summer wedding, not needing anyone more than some friends. Neither of you talked to your family that much, finding the most solace between one another and the friends they had–actors and university friends alike. It took a lot of sifting friends to find out who were friends and who wanted to meet Aaron Johnson.

Of course, Aaron invited actor friends but was hesitant to invite Brian Tyree Henry for apparent reasons.

Thomas said to do it. He would stay away as much as he could, and he wouldn't drink any alcohol to avoid any emotional issues that may arise. In this entire year, you hadn’t rewatched Bullet Train once. You couldn’t, not with Thomas around the apartment. You could barely even watch Aaron–Tangerine edits without feeling some kind of way. Your gut twisted in unspeakable ways as you watched the silly bouncing and rhythmic edits of Aaron-Tangerine, trying to separate Thomas from Aaron as much as possible.

You stared deeply at Tangerine, you could see them both so clearly in Movie-Tangerine. Thomas’s poor smoking habit, and brotherly gentleness, while Aaron’s watchful stares, and facial expressions perfectly mirrored his real life expression.

Part of you swooned over the Movie-Tangerine, which can be considered Aaron-Tangerine too, right?

Back to the wedding, Thomas mostly stuck around the outskirts of the wedding as promised. Brian didn’t even glance his way, but he indeed stared Brian down. His American accent helped a little bit until Aaron and Brian were drinking together, giggling slightly drunk while they recalled their accents for the film. The wedding was lovely, small, and in the backyard of you and Aaron’s new home. It was floral, with a nice tent around the outdoor dining section. The house was overly large; Aaron, the sole provider, took the house payment upon himself. You owned their apartment, telling Thomas he could stay there when you graduated and visit the house whenever he wanted.

Thomas didn’t stay that night. He couldn’t. He knew you two were tipsy and would be consummating the marriage loudly the entire night.

He was right, too. Aaron didn’t even make it up the stairs with you in your sleek white wedding dress. He stripped you in the foyer, his hard-on pressed against his suit pants, and was eating you out while you sat on the top stair of the house.

Your skin was sticky with the summer sweat, and his shaved beard still scratched your thighs raw. After forcing your legs open, his drooly tongue lapped up the dampness between your thighs. He smiled up at you lazily as he slid in his fingers and hummed against your clit. His fingers stretched and pushed around, it was like his second home. Your arms were first. Aaron made himself plenty at home as he smiled up at you with a devilish smile, his lips still attached to your sensitive nerves.

All of Aaron's muscle prep for Kraven’s appearance in a Marvel film was overpowering no matter how much you tried to shove your legs shut. His large free hand shoved them back open without a moments break.

“Mhfm, taste delicious, don’t you, Pretty?” Aaron rhetorically asked.

With a sudden spin guided by Aaron, you then held yourself up on your knees. Your hands pressed against the cold hardwood floors as he pushed himself inside with a languid groan. The stretch was terribly achy. Aaron loved spending time on his knees for you, but the age gap made you giggle as you joked about his aging knees.

“Baby… god, you feel so good. Mhm,” he whispered into your ear. Drunk Aaron was a time, he was different each time. You loved each personality he fucked you in, slipping into different accents from time to time. After six years of being together, you’ve fucked each drunk personality he claimed to shed post-film production.

Allan "Ize" Isaac and his whiny tone while he thrusts into you needily while begging you to come around him was fun. Same with Dave Lizewski pretending to fuck his University history TA or Fredrich moaning in your ear lovingly as he asked to breed you with his children. Your personal favorite was when Aaron cockily fucked you with Pietro’s Sokovian accent teasing you as he overstimulated your clit. But there was one more who hadn’t appeared in the past year.

More often than not, Tangerine came out. Fuck, Aaron made you call him Tangerine multiple times before the appearance of Thomas one year ago.

Today was no different.

When the Cockney slid past Aaron’s tongue like it was his first initial accent, you knew you were done. He even called you Doll as he slid in and out. His cockhead crushed into your cervix more times than you could count. Not that you could count clearly while being impaled by Aaron. He groaned as he moved your hips to slide on and off his cock, “Fuck, so’wet for me huh, doll? Like this cock?”

You cried into the piled dress beneath you, his lips connected to your back. Your knees ache against wood panels, rocking back and forth. His wet lips sucked into your back as he grunted, “God, Doll, yer still so tight for me.”

It was like neuron activation, exactly what Tangerine had said to you a year ago while he fingered you against the couch. You didn’t think about it a lot, an awkward interaction you three claim. For you, it was intoxicating to hear Tangerine say doll, more or less Aaron say it.

You hummed a cry at his comment.

“Say my name, Doll, come on,” he said. Skin slapping echoed in the barely decorated home, your cries echoing off the cold, empty walls. “Fuck… Aaron, pl–”

His hands pulled up your wrists to your lower back, holding your front up as he used you.

“That’s not my name, Dollface.”

For just a moment, you swore this actually was the Thomas Henley you met on Valentine’s Day. You cried out again, “No, Aaron, no! I can’t–”

Morally, you can’t. Aaron (or Tangerine) at this moment had no morals. Never had, will.

“Say it!” He shouted as he released you to fall into your dress. His hands clamped on your hips with a bruising hold. His trimmed nails even dug at the plush of your thighs.

“Fuck, Tangerine!” You sobbed, you squeezed around him as he laughed. Your body was jolting as he did as he pleased, you always let him do as he pleased.

“Whore likes that, huh?” He asked as he snapped into your hole. The constant squeeze around him and the new twist around your stomach told Aaron you were nearing another finish.

You gasped out sobs as his hand dipped down and touched your clit hard; his fingers were rough against the sensitive nerves. Your thighs shook beneath Aaron’s thrusts, wet dripping down your thighs.

“Tan…Tange, I needa cum,” you softly mumbled as you felt him twitch in delight. The knot in your stomach tightened as he punched his cockhead against your g-spot. “Mhm, yeah? Gonna come already? Then you’re gonna make me fuck you again? Need my cock that bad? Need Tangerine that bad?” He asked condescendingly. You shook your head no pathetically, crying out in denial. Your stomach continued to quell, and you squeezed down to try not to cum before granted permission.

“Please let me cum,” you quietly begged.

“Slut wants to cum? Hm, with me and Tangerine? Do it, whore,” He groaned his permission, watching you limply twitch on him as you finished for the second time around him. Aaron smiled behind you before slowly sliding himself out and grabbed you by the wrist to pull you up with one arm.

His chest pressed against your back to help you towards his desired destination. Even while Aaron’s over-confident actions were harsh on your body, he kept and held you firmly with care. You hoped he would bring you to your bedroom, fuck for a bit longer then fall asleep in each others arms.

You neared the wall, your hand sliding along it to keep you up. Aaron stopped your movement, his hands firmly on your elbow now. To your left was the collection of pictures you and Aaron took together or treasured. Most importantly, the picture next to your face.

You, Thomas, and Aaron at your graduation just two months ago. The two boys held you on their shoulders, the black graduation gown billowing around their chests. Your various colored stoles and cords flew in the wind, your tassel was flicking around as well.

Before you were aware of anything else, Aaron hiked you up and slid himself back inside with a prideful moan. His hands still had a tight grip, moving from your elbow to your waist. Aaron spun you around to face him, his lips kissing and sucking down your neck. “Oh, fuck Doll, I’m gonna cum… But tell…me, you wanna fuck us both?”

Drunk, intrusive thoughts rolled back around.

Between them, Aaron and Thomas kissing you up and down your body, two sets of hands holding or even pleasuring you, the thought of absolute overstimulation flooded your cunt. A loud squelch followed as you thought about the possibility of Aaron and Thomas at once. Aaron pushed further inside, kissing your limit. Fuck it sounded wonderful.

While you imagined the chance, Aaron whispered into your ear. “Taking us both… you just want attention, don’t you? ‘m’I not enough?”

“Oh, ffuck. No, just… fuck!” You shouted as he rolled his hips into you. He had you pinned up against the wall, his hips endlessly torturing you in the best way you could dream of.

“No… just you,” you denied with a lazy shake of your head against the painted walls. Aaron, in response, pulled you down into his cock. Slamming you up and down on him while you choked up on air, “Doll, y’know I don't like when you lie,” a strangled moan left Aaron before continuing. “My cum not enough for you, want both of ours?”

“No! Aaron, I don’t want to,” You tried again. He rolled his eyes and sunk his teeth into your neck. His lips hummed with skin between his teeth. Aaron shot his load inside, groaning as he continued to thrust in and out. “Admit it, doll, you want him and me together.”

Even after he filled you up, he kept going.

His fingers took place, but not before taking any fallen liquid and scooping it back inside to fuck his cum inside of you. Shoving three fingers inside of you at once released a throaty “Oh god,” as Aaron’s other hand took your waist and thrusted your hips into his hand.

The wall rattled, and the picture of you, Aaron, and Thomas shook as Aaron shoved his fingers in and out again. A rush flooded down your thighs. Aaron smiled as he felt another fluttering squeeze around him.

Your throat was raw from begging, “Aaa...Aaron, let me cum; please, need’ta cum so bad.”

“Mhm, s’ not Aaron, princess,” the Cockney accent asked as he ground his fingers into the gummiest spot. The sudden pulse around him as he whispered, Princess, into your ear. His nose pressed against your hair with a deep inhale.

“Fuck, Tangerine,” you shouted out as you squeezed against him again. The third knot of the night was getting tighter as you panted the former code name of your closest friend out helplessly. Over and over again, Ta..Tange. Please Tangerine, been good.

Aaron smiled and kissed the back of your head. “Go on, doll. You can do it,” he whispered into your hair. His other hand slid to your front to push you over the edge. A pornographic cry passed your lips as your chest tried to hug the wall to cool yourself down. Aaron groaned quietly again, down to his wrist dripping with you. After leaving your hole empty, Aaron picked you up bridal style to finally lie you two to sleep.

He cleaned you as best as a hazy-drunk-man could. A warm cloth ran up and down your body before getting to the sticky mess between your thighs. It had cooled off by the time he reached your vagina, but he still treated you like porcelain. His lips trailed around as he cleaned.

He vanished again and returned with a bottle of water and he dipped beneath sheets with you.

“I love you Aaron,” you mumbled quietly. You faced his chest and held his waist gently, he set his hand onto your head and quietly kissed you. “I love you too, Princess.”

#aaron taylor johnson #aaron taylor johnson x reader #atj #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x reader #aaron taylor johnson smut #tangerine x reader smut #smut #aaron johnson #bullet train #bullet train 2022

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magic-shop-stories · 1 month ago

Note

lazy morning sex bts headcanons please i beg of you 😭

💌 Reply:

hiiii, there 💜 THANK YOU for this request (and for your patience! life’s been a too much lately (well actually just uni assignments and exams) 😭). I hope these headcanons hit the vibe you wanted - if not feel free to reach out again and say the word... ANY FEEDBACK HERE IS GOLD!!! full disclosure: I’m still finding my footing with writing explicit stuff (my anxiety is like pls no explicit, so i tried to focus on the vibes... I mean it's not like I can't write it, but I am a bit afraid to share publicly) – c –💜

BTS x Lazy Morning Intimacy Headcanons

↳ BTS x f!reader

Pairings: OT7 x fl!Reader (Romantic) Rating: PG-13 (T) Genre: fluff, romance, domestic slice-of-life Warnings: None (mild implied intimacy, affectionate touching, kisses, cuddling, non-explicit)

KIM NAMJOON

= Slow, Thoughtful, and Deeply Connected

MOOD

quiet, rain-soaked mornings

the kind where time feels suspended

gray light filters through linen curtains

world outside hums softly

his energy is unhurried/ reverent

isn’t about urgency

it’s about presence

savors the intimacy like a rare first edition

turning each moment into a page to be annotated

HOW IT STARTS

you stir awake

the weight of his arm draped over your waist

his chest pressed gently against your back

his lips brush the nape of your neck

= warm and lingering

“Good morning, universe.”

murmurs, voice sleep-rough and soft

hand trails down your arm

fingers intertwining with yours

“Don’t move yet. Just… let me be here.”

PACE

deliberate and unhurried

takes his time mapping your skin with his fingertips

= as if memorizing every freckle/ every curve

his touches are purposeful

thumb grazing your hipbone

palm splayed over your ribcage

his breath steady against your shoulder

believes in process/ the beauty of unfolding

TOUCH

Hands

calloused from writing

gentle in their exploration

traces the dip of your spine like it’s a stanza he’s trying to decipher

Lips

presses kisses to your shoulder blades, your temples, pulse point of your wrist

= each one a quiet affirmation

Forehead

rests his against yours

eyes closed

breathing synced

“This… this is my religion...”

deep whispers

SOUNDS

rustle of sheets

= when he shifts to cradle your face in his hands

low, content hum

= when you card your fingers through his hair

“Feels like… home...”

his voice barely audible

soft, fragmented phrases in Korean and English

“You’re so… god, you’re perfect… 어떻게 이렇게 아름다워…”

THINGS HE SAYS

Poetic Praise

“Your skin tastes like stardust. Did you know that?”

Gentle Teasing

“You’re stealing all the blankets. Again. Should’ve written a clause in our contract.”

Raw Honesty

“I don’t know how I got so lucky. To have this… to have you.”

AFTERCARE

brings you a steaming mug of honey-lemon tea

a book of Mary Oliver poems

reads aloud while you curl into his side

his free hand stroking your hair

drapes his oversized hoodie over your shoulders

kissing your forehead

“Wear this. It’s… softer with you in it.”

opens the window to let in the rain-scented air

“Today’s agenda: Nothing. Just… us.”

note: would 100% accidentally knock over a lamp mid-moment, laugh into your neck, and whisper, “Priorities.”

KIM SEOKJIN (JIN)

= Playful, Affectionate, and Full of Laughter

MOOD

golden, sunlit morning

air feels like a warm hug

Jin’s energy is bright and mischievous

blending tenderness with his signature humor

it isn’t just intimacy

it’s a celebration

= a chance to laugh, tease

remind you why he’s Worldwide Handsome (inside and out)

HOW IT STARTS

you wake to the sound of him humming

his fingers softly drumming a rhythm on your hip

pokes your cheek, before you can open your eyes

“Yah, sleeping beauty! Rise and shine... or I’ll start without you.”

his grin is audible as he nuzzles your ear

breath tickling your skin

“Just kidding. Oppa’s too nice to leave you behind.”

PACE

leisurely but lively

no rush

he’s here to enjoy the moment

= like a chef savoring his favorite dish

alternates between playful teasing and sudden sincerity

keeping you on your toes

one minute he’s blowing raspberries on your shoulder

next he’s cupping your face like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen

TOUCH

Hands

warm and confident

tracing idle patterns on your back

tousling your hair

“Softest human ever. Are you sure you’re not a cloud?”

Lips

plants exaggerated, smacking kisses on your nose, forehead, cheeks

“Stamp of approval. Now you’re officially perfect.”

Cuddles

pulls you into his chest

rocking you slightly like you’re dancing to a song only he hears

“Shh, just let me admire my masterpiece.”

SOUNDS

deep, rumbling laugh when you squirm away

“Where you going? I’m the main event!”

playful whispers

“Admit it... you married me for my looks.”

fake gasps of offense

“You’re blushing? After all this time? Yah, I still got it!”

THINGS HE SAYS

Affectionate Teasing

“You’re lucky I’m so patient. Anyone else would’ve given up on your snoring.”

Unexpected Sweetness

“You’re my favorite place to be. Even better than... ahh nervermind."

AFTERCARE

whips up a gourmet breakfast with way too many heart-shaped garnishes

“Fuel for round two! Hypothetically.”

winks as he feeds you a strawberry

drapes you in silk robe

insisting it’s “VIP loungewear”

“You’re rocking my look. Almost as good as me.”

turns on a reality show

narrating the drama in a silly voice until you’re crying-laughing

“See? Oppa’s a whole package.”

MIN YOONGI (SUGA)

= Quiet, Grounded, and Unapologetically Tender

MOOD

hazy, gray morning

world feels muted

room is dim

curtains half-drawn

only the faint hum of the city waking up outside

his energy is calm and deliberate

no rush, no grand gestures

it’s about existing together (in stillness)

time bends

HOW IT STARTS

wakes before you

he often does, but doesn’t move

just watches the rise and fall of your shoulders

his arm slung loosely over your waist

when you finally stir, he tugs you closer

his nose brushing the back of your neck

“Too early...”

he grumbles

voice gravelly with sleep

“Stay.”

hand slips under your shirt

palm warm against your stomach

he is anchoring you to him

PACE

slow

almost lazy

intentional

he’s not one for theatrics

movements are measured

= like the steady click of a metronome

kisses the curve of your shoulder, the dip behind your ear

each touch is a quiet promise

he rolls you onto your back

a hand cradling your head

thumb brushing your cheekbone

“Easy...”

murmurs, more to himself than to you

TOUCH

Hands

slightly rough from guitar strings

but his fingertips are still moving gentle

tracing the line of your jaw, your collarbone, the inside of your wrist

= like he’s mapping a song only he knows

Lips

soft

lingering presses rather than urgency

kisses like he’s savoring something rare

the corner of your mouth, the pulse at your throat, the scars you once told him about

Body

prefers closeness without suffocation

his leg hooks over yours

he is pulling you into his warmth

tho leaves room to breathe

“You’re freezing...”

his smile/smirk betrays him

SOUNDS

the creak of the mattress as he shifts

his exhale

= a low hum against your skin

rare, breathy laugh when you tickle his ribs

“Yah. Focus.”

murmurs in a mix of Korean and sleep-slurred English

“좋아… just like that… perfect.”

THINGS HE SAYS

Dry Affection

“You’re hogging the sheets. Again.”

he’s the one who stole them

Blunt Honesty

“This... you... this is the only thing I’d wake up early for.”

Unexpected Softness

“Stay. Please.”

request, not a demand

AFTERCARE

rolls onto his back

arm still draped over you

staring at the ceiling

“Coffee?”

already knows the answer

returns with two mugs

black decaf for him

too much cream for you

sits cross-legged on the bed

shoulders brushing

no need to fill the silence

he’ll tug you into his studio

letting you nap on the couch while he works

“Don’t snore...”

unseriously warns you

click of his mouse slows when your breathing evens out

note: would fall back asleep mid-cuddle. “Five more minutes” turning into two hours

JUNG HOSEOK (J-HOPE)

= Bright, Playful, and Overflowing with Love

MOOD

sunlit and joyful

= like the first day of spring

his energy is contagious

warm, giggly

infused with a tenderness that makes even lazy moments feel vibrant

turns intimacy into a dance

every touch is a step

every laugh a rhythm

HOW IT STARTS

you wake to the sound of him humming under his breath

his fingers tracing idle patterns on your shoulder

you shift?

he grins and pokes your cheek

“Jagiya, you’re finally up! Took you long enough.”

pulls you into a bear hug

nuzzling your neck like an overgrown puppy

“Missed you. Even though you were right here.”

PACE

mix of playful energy and lingering sweetness

he’s all about connection

switching between peppering your face with kisses and slowing down

savoring the way you sigh when he brushes his lips over your collarbone

his hands never stay still

roaming from your waist to your hair

= like he’s trying to memorize you through touch

TOUCH

Hands

warm and always moving

squeezing your hips

threading through your hair

linking your fingers together

“Your hands are so tiny. Cute.”

Lips

leaves a trail of quick, smiling kisses from your jaw to your fingertips

“One for each hour I waited for you to wake up.”

Cuddling Position

pulls you on top of him

your head resting on his chest

“Listen... my heart’s beating just for you.”

SOUNDS

bright, breathy laughter when you tickle his sides

“Yah! Cheater!”

soft, sing-song praises in Korean

“이뻐… 너무 이뻐…” (“Pretty… so pretty…”)

occasional giggle-snort when you tease him

“Stop making me laugh... this is serious...”

THINGS HE SAYS

Playful Banter

“You’re stealing all the blankets again. Again! Should I start calling you ‘Thief’?”

Affectionate

“You’re doing amazing, baby...”

Unexpected Sincerity

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you… but I’ll spend forever trying to.”

EXTRA: SHOWER MOMENT

tugs you into the shower

claiming it’s to “wash off the sleep and sweat”

anything but lazy

hands you the loofah

eyes sparkling

you rinse his hair?

he leans into your touch

suddenly quiet

“This… this is the good stuff.”

AFTERCARE

wraps you in his fluffiest towel

dances around the kitchen making honey-butter toast.

“Fuel for round two! Or… y’know, nap time.”

plays “cozy DJ”

curates a playlist of acoustic BTS tracks and slow jams

sways with you in the living room

chin on your head

“We’re owning this lazy day, yeah?”

PARK JIMIN

= Softness, Fire, and Endless Devotion

MOOD

golden, sunlit morning where the air feels like honey

slow and sweet

his energy is a blend of soft affection and simmering intensity

like a dance between a lullaby and a crescendo

thrives on connection

making every touch a conversation

every glance is a promise

HOW IT STARTS

you wake to his fingertips tracing idle patterns on your bare shoulder

his breath warm against your ear

“Jagiya...”

murmurs, voice still husky with sleep

“You’re too pretty to be real.”

lips brush the curve of your jaw, achingly slow

as if he’s savoring the first taste of sunlight

PACE

deliberate push-and-pull

softness that melts into fervent urgency

ebbs back into something achingly gentle

starts with languid kisses

hands cupping your face like you’re something fragile

when you arch into him, he matches your hunger

fingers tangling in your hair

breath hitching

slows again just as quickly

“Shh, we have all day...”

whispering against your collarbone

TOUCH

Hands

start as feather-light caresses

thumb grazing your cheek

palm skimming your waist

later grips your hip with possessive gentleness

grounding you

“Right here. Stay with me.”

Lips

alternates between tender pecks and deep, lingering kisses that leave you breathless

bites his own lip to stifle a grin when you shiver

“Like that, jagiya?”

Forehead

presses his to yours during quieter moments

eyes locked on yours

“You’re my favorite sight.”

voice trembling

SOUNDS

rustle of sheets as he pulls you closer

fabric pooling around his waist

soft, breathy laughs when you tease him

“Yah, who said you could be this cute and this annoying?”

whispers that blur Korean and English

“I’ve got you… 넌 내 것이라서… don’t ever let go.”

THINGS HE SAYS

Sweet Affirmations

“You’re everything. Every damn thing.”

Playful Demands

“Look at me. I want to see you... all of you.”

Raw Vulnerability

“I don’t know how to love you quietly. You make me… burn.”

AFTERCARE

draws a bath strewn with rose petals

insisting on washing your hair himself

“Let me take care of you.”

fingers massage your scalp until you’re boneless against him

feeds you strawberries dipped in chocolate

licking sweetness off your thumb

“Breakfast of champions”

smirks

wraps you in his favorite silk robe

nuzzling your neck as you both doze

“Stay. The world can wait.”

KIM TAEHYUNG (V)

= Whimsical, Romantic, and Unapologetically Artistic

MOOD

golden, sunlit morning

air smells like fresh coffee/cocoa and distant rain

room feels like a vintage film set

soft velvet throws, polaroids strung on the wall, record spinning Billie Holiday in the corner

his energy is a mix of playful mischief and soul-deep romance

= as if every moment is a scene he’s directing just for you

HOW IT STARTS

you wake to the faint scratch of a charcoal pencil and the warmth of his gaze

he’s already propped on one elbow

sketching you in his leather-bound journal

sunlight gilding the edges of his bedhead

catches you watching

he grins, all boxy and bright

“Don’t move. You’re perfect like this.”

tho tosses the sketchbook aside

crawling closer

“Actually... do move. Come here.”

PACE

unpredictable and sweetly meandering

one second he’s tracing the shell of your ear with a feather-light touch

next he’s rolling you both into a cocoon of blankets

laughing when you yelp

he’s in no rush

kisses your knuckles, your knees, curve of your ankle

= as if every inch of you deserves a soliloquy

TOUCH

Hands

artist’s hands

ink-stained and tender

skims your collarbone like he’s sketching it

laces his fingers with yours, squeezing gently

Lips

alternates between soft pecks and playful nips

“You taste like yesterday’s wine. My wine.”

Forehead

presses his to yours, eyes crinkling

“You’re my favorite dream.”

SOUNDS

crackle of vinyl in the background

saxophone notes weaving through his whispers

his low, raspy laugh when you tickle his sides

“Yah... this is a serious moment!”

it’s not...

half-sung lyrics in Korean

voice still gravelly with sleep

THINGS HE SAYS

Dramatic Flair

“If I painted you right now, I’d call it ‘Chaos and Honey’. Or maybe ‘The Day Time Forgot’.”

Playful Teasing

“You’re stealing all the good pillows. Again. Should I write a song about it?”

Raw Honesty

“I didn’t know love could feel like… this. Like a song I can’t stop humming.”

AFTERCARE

wraps you in his hoodie

makes hot chocolate with heart-shaped foam

serving them on a vintage tray with strawberries

“Breakfast fit for… us.”

dances with you barefoot

his palm warm on your lower back

“No one’s watching. Just the ghosts of jazz legends. They approve.”

JEON JUNGKOOK (JUNGKOOK)

= Sweetly Enthusiastic, Playful, and Tenderly Protective

MOOD

rainy morning, after a thunderstorm

his energy is a mix of boyish eagerness and soft reverence

= like he’s discovered something precious and wants to cherish it slowly

his touches are warm

his laughter bright

his affection spills over in whispered jagiyas

shy smiles turning into smirks

HOW IT STARTS

you wake to his arm curled possessively around your waist

his nose buried in your hair

you shift?

he mumbles sleepily

“Jagiya… five more minutes.”

his hand slides up to cradle your jaw

thumb brushing your cheekbone

nuzzles your shoulder

lips grazing the edge of your tank top strap

“Missed you, even though you were right here.”

voice still raspy from sleep

PACE

playful push-and-pull between patience and passion

he’s eager but careful

= like he’s savoring a favorite dessert

lets the moment stretch

lingering kisses, fingers tracing idle patterns on your hip

then pulling you closer with a quiet growl

“You’re too pretty. Can’t help it.”

TOUCH

Hands

strong but gentle

calloused from the gym

tho tender as they skate over your skin

lets you trace his tattoos

he shivers under your fingertips

“You’re the only one who gets to touch them.”

Lips/Bites

presses open-mouthed kisses to your collarbone

nibbling just enough to make you gasp

“Sorry, jagiya… couldn’t resist.”

teeth graze your earlobe, playful and warm

Forehead

rests his against yours

eyes dark and sincere

“You’re everything.”

breathes heavily

SOUNDS

soft, breathy laughter when you tickle his sides

“Yah... play nice.”

whispers

“Jagiya, you feel so good… perfect.”

rustle of sheets as he shifts to hover over you

his tattoos catching the sunlight

THINGS HE SAYS

Sweet Nonsense

“How are you real? Like… how?”

Playful Demands

“Call me oppa again. Please.” [tho I'm 50:50 abt this]

he’ll pout if you tease him

Raw Honesty

“I used to dream about mornings like this. Now I don’t have to.”

AFTERCARE

makes you banana pancakes shirtless

flexing just enough to make you laugh

“What? Gotta maintain the view for my jagiya.”

wraps you in his black hoodie

sleeves drowning your hands

“Keep it. Looks better on you anyway.”

puts on a live later

subtly wearing the same hoodie

ARMY notices

“No, I’m not blushing! It’s… hot in here!”

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embrosegraves · 1 year ago

Text

𝕊𝕙𝕚𝕗𝕥 ℍ𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕟𝕤

Oscar Piastri x Horner!Reader Miami and Imola bring new challenges to the grid. Challenges such as finally initiating the romance part of your potential relationship- oh and being on the podium with your ex-teammate too.

Warnings: swearing ig? idk my usual warnings apply (ALSO REALLY BAD TEXT MESSAGE EDITING LMAOOO)

you're crazy if you can see dates on the tweets (/hj)

series masterlist | previous part | next part

MiamiGP

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redbullracing #MiamiGP the RBR Admin is in love with you 😍

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gerihalliwellhorner I'm convinced that Miami loves you too, Darling 🥰🥰 -> redbullracing please don't embarrass me while i'm working, Mum!! -> gerihalliwellhorner Oh you do that well enough on your own

user4599 Thank you for feeding us with all the #OP81 content we could need 🫡🫡 -> redbullracing ofc! I have to use my power for something right??

maxverstappen1 This is Max Verstappen erasure 😒😒 -> redbullracing anyone ever tell you you're a massive baby?? -> maxverstappen1 not to my face, why? did you hear something? -> redbullracing only thing I can hear is you whining

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redbullracing Here's Max ig 😒 (shoutout to victoriaverstappen for giving permission for me to post Luka. u a real one fr)

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victoriaverstappen Always happy to give you posting privilege 🫶 -> redbullracing Admin is in love with you 😳🫶

maxverstappen1 thanks 😑 -> redbullracing yw 🥰😊

oscarpiastri Luka is clearly the best Verstappen out there -> redbullracing right?! the only one that comes close is his mother fr -> victoriaverstappen what a coincidence haha, Luka says you're his favourite rb driver 🤭 -> maxverstappen1 I'm still his favourite uncle tho right?? -> victoriaverstappen welllllll....... -> victoriaverstappen "Who's your favourite uncle, Luka?" "UNCLE OSCAR!!" -> maxverstappen1 ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!

imessage

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3 days later

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yn.horner Everybody welcome the newest #PaddockPet ✨ Honey-Lemon 🍯🍋 (go follow her account misshoney.lemon 🤭)

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oscarpiastri was gonna say something clever, but Honey-Lemon is just too cute for me to think -> yn.horner she has that effect on cute boys -> oscarpiastri does said cute boy have an effect on Honey's cute mum? -> yn.horner maybe 🤭 -> user3216 chat is this real? -> user8569 1st of all: excuse me? 2nd of all: EXCUSE ME?! -> user 4568 ooooo i am SO HERE FOR THIS

user5421 OH MY GOD SHE'S ADORABLE

user2268 following Honey-Lemon's acc RIGHT NOW -> misshoney.lemon You're a 🍬🫀 (get it? sweet-heart??) -> user4568 we've only had Honey-Lemon for 10mins but if anything happened to her I would k-ll everyone and then myself

ImolaGP

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redbullracing In honour of #Lestappen + Oscar on the podium (again), here are some pictures of Admin's favourite F1 drivers past and present :D tagged: maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, nicorosberg, kimimatiasraikkonen, sebastianvettel

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user6548 Admin must have a thing for cunty drivers ->redbullracing 👁️🫦👁️💅💅 -> user6548 you and me are the same

nicorosberg I'm flattered 🤭 -> redbullracing Love you King 🫶🫶

oscarpiastri Why couldn't you pick a cunty pic of me too? -> redbullracing listen man, sometimes the fans don't deserve the fan service y'know?? -> user5589 DOES THIS MEAN ADMIN HAS CUNTY OSCAR PICS???!!?!? -> redbullracing ADMIN HAS THEM AND IS HOLDING THEM HOSTAGE

sebastianvettel I'll reply for both Kimi and myself. -> sebastianvettel I'm honoured to be considered one of your favourites :) -> redbullracing ok that was you, what's kimi's reply?? -> sebastianvettel 👍👍 -> redbullracing idk why i expected any different

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Here we go, as promised!

(not even joking, planning this and having people ask abt writing for others in f1 has given me so much motivation, this is great)

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queers-gambit · 2 years ago

Text

Love What You've Done with the Place

song by Rascal Flatts

prompt: he's never been a man built for relationships, until you come into his life. now, the house feels like a home.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 1.8k+

warnings: more brain rot rambles, probably cursing, NOT edited, very docile, fluff, romance, hardened men being simps.

It started with clothes. Just a few, here and there; left behind, forgotten, purposefully stuffed in his dresser for when you stayed the nights. He didn't mind, in fact, Tangerine encouraged you to bring whatever you felt comfortable with leaving since he hated how early you'd leave in the mornings to get ready for work. He found his mornings were peaceful when you were around; neither rushed, both content, starting your days on high notes with each other.

So, he made the decision and found an old sitting-vanity for you. He put it in his bedroom simply because he was fascinated with the hair and make-up process; thinking it was incredible that women had such skill. When he came home about 3 months ago, he noticed your vanity when he first got home from a particularly difficult mission. Your chair was draped in an old university tee shirt, and he smiled.

It was like watching your comfort grow and it warmed something deep in Tangerine's heart. Your make-up wasn't always in a neat array, sometimes just left from a quick touch-up; making the house feel more like a home.

Tangerine also bought a strainer for the shower's drain to catch your hair. He didn't get angry like previous boyfriends did when he found strands of your hair left behind - not on purpose or by some gross standard, but it was natural that hair shed in a shower and not every single strand could be picked up. So, to make life easier, he just quietly bought the hair trap, placed it, removed whatever empty bottles from the shower, and went about his day. But then he started to notice your hair left other places.

His counters, his sink, the floor, your vanity, his bed sheets and pillows.

Tangerine had his issues with possessiveness in the past, but this wasn't remotely similar. No, Tangerine found himself smiling when he would find your hair in his clothes; thinking it was funny, almost like a mark or badge of honor to designate him as yours. It was a brief thought, but Tangerine actually felt giddy by the idea of people just knowing he was off the market 'cause his lady's hair was clung to his suit jackets.

He liked it. He really did. He'd not admit it aloud, but he liked it.

Tangerine wasn't the most humble man in the world, but he certainly liked to flash what was his. Golden jewelry, expensive, tailored suits, shining Italian leather shoes. And now, you, the woman who invaded his heart and head - and now his home. He adored showing you off, feeling affirmed and invigorated by the longing glances men threw your way, and while he expected jealousy from other women, they seemed more impressed by your beauty and grace as well.

He remembers one night, after a several weeks long mission, he just wanted to hold you. His throat was a little choked up when he called you, knowing you were at home after reading an earlier text. So, you rushed over in the middle of the night and he'd yet to let you go home - three days later.

"You've gonna have to let me out of bed sometime," you smiled playfully. "I have work tomorrow - and no, I'm not calling out again."

"C'mon, love, don't leave me alone," he whispered, looking like a beaten down puppy. The mission was much harder than he'd let on, but Lemon usually always filled you in. He thought it was important for you to know certain details that Tangerine was sure to omit, knowing those were the details that haunted him.

"I'll be back after my shift," you promised, nuzzling his nose with your own. "I also need new panties and clean clothes."

He sighed, "Some in there," he pointed to his closet now.

"What?" You giggled.

"You've left enough behind, got a bit of a collection goin', yeah?" He smiled softly, wrapping you back up in his arms. With a sigh, he relented, "I'll let yah go to work, love, just... Need this a bit longer."

You obliged, but the next day, you were gone before he woke up. With a frown, Tangerine dropped back onto the bed - but inhaled deeply when his nose buried into your pillow. He hummed in pleasure, feeling himself brim with contentment, bringing the fluffy item to his chest and nuzzling it; your perfume left behind to soothe him.

Was Tangerine clingy? Oh, for sure! He didn't think so, but you knew better. The contract killer liked you close, liked his hands on you; even if it was just a hand on your waist or a nose near your neck. He missed you when gone, but he usually held himself back from texting you all day - wanting you to be able to focus on your job.

But that day? He was inept, just wanting you; wondering if he paid you the same salary, if you'd consider just staying home. So, he texted you several times.

This obviously threw you off a little, knowing him better than himself most days. But he just missed you, so, you sent a selfie - promising you missed him too and would be home right after work.

He saved the photo and tried not to dwell on how you said you'd "be home" and not "come to his place". He had to take a few moments to calm down, feeling his heart zing with unfamiliarity - but not being afraid of it like he had been when you first started dating. He could recognize he was happy, that he was excited to see you everyday, and that the idea of coming home to you was far too appealing to ignore any longer.

It seemed neither of you needed to actually have an official conversation about living together. Lemon didn't mind, in fact, he was the one who insisted you have your own key; adoring you and whatever affect you had on his emotionally constipated brother. So, some mornings, Tangerine wasn't surprised to find a slightly damp towel left hanging in the bathroom, nor by the make-up on his counter - you using that mirror because of the fluorescent lighting. He never put it back, he didn't move it - he liked seeing it. It meant you were still here, and the idea of it being gone made his stomach knot with anxiety. He also wasn't surprised when he went to use the shampoo you insisted would help his curls flourish (you were right), only to find it damn-near empty. His shower gel, too.

When you came home that evening, you had Target bags in hand; replacing whatever was empty, making Tangerine grin to himself by how in-sync he felt with you. He'd never had a connection such as this, only ever feeling close enough to Lemon, but you changed everything for them both.

How Tangerine ended up with someone courteous was truly beyond either of them. Someone kind, caring, adventurous, sweeter than pie - someone definitely out of Tangerine's league, something he never let himself forget. He adored you to your core - thinking someone such as you should never have gotten tangled up in someone like him, but he knew, if the time ever came, he'd never be able to let you go. In fact, most days, he had to convince himself not to just pick you up and carry you around while he did chores or ran errands.

The very idea of losing you sent his heart into his stomach; hallowing his chest in a harrowing fashion that made it hard to breathe. Just a week or two ago, Lemon found Tangerine in the kitchen, hand to his chest as if he couldn't catch his breath, heaving for air; his worry spiking, but quickly realizing what was wrong.

"Bruv, you've gotta breathe - calm down," he tried to coax. "You're having a panic attack, you've gotta just focus on breathing."

"Fuck off with that!"

"Seriously, man," Lemon insisted, catching Tangerine in a vulnerable state enough that he actually listened without much of a fight. When Tan seemed a little more under control of his own emotions, Lemon asked, "What the hell happened?"

Tangerine shook his head, "Nothing t'worry 'bout - "

"Bullshit," Lemon snapped. "I've never seen yah like that, mate, the fuck happened?"

It was embarrassing, but Tangerine managed to answer, "Just... Just started thinking that if she ever left me, I'd fucking crumble, mate."

This made Lemon frown, "She's not gonna leave you, man. You know that. The girl's madly in love with you, yeah? Like madly in love - like to a degree it makes her stupid in the head, all right? Obviously, you too," he chuckled, shaking his head as he affectionately ran a hand over the back of Tan's head. "You're workin' yourself up, 's all right. You don't have to think about that - ever - 'cause she's it for you, mate. Yeah? Hear me? She ain't goin' nowhere, not without you."

Tangerine needed the assurance. Being alone after having a taste of your love felt impossible to Tan now, something he was never bothered by before. Seriously, why give a fuck about a relationship when he had his brother? Someone who loved him unconditionally and wouldn't leave? And then he met you and understood why people gave fucks about relationships.

It was as if every room you ever entered was brightened up simply by your smile. Your laugh wasn't always the most ladylike, but it was genuine and true and always made Tangerine smile to himself. During any public outing, Tan was always close - we've established this - but he liked to play a small game. One of your love languages was physical touch, so, you liked kissing him if even just for a single second. He was aware of your lipstick, feeling the tacky substance stain his cheek, but he wouldn't wipe it off. His game was to see how long it'd take before someone would point it out; his reputation didn't always warrant others to feel secure enough to speak up. Some nights, Lemon would motion to his cheek, and other nights, you'd return home, remove your make-up, and swipe make-up remover over his cheek to clear the color away.

However, it wasn't often you ventured in public due to Tangerine's innate introverted nature. You went if The Agency made it mandatory or if you were feeling stir crazy, but majority nights, Lemon would find you both lounged on the couch in various positions.

Sometimes, you'd be watching a movie together or binging a show. Other times, you were reading a book while Tangerine poured over paperwork. And once or twice, Lemon's come home to find you belly laughing and playfully scolding Tangerine as he tried to paint your toe nails. It was a homey sight to Lemon: seeing his brother so in love and at ease, hearing your laughter, the entire flat filled with warm smells of burning candles and homemade meals.

It wasn't evident at first, but with you laying in Tangerine's arms, clothes left on the floor, bellies full of whatever meal you had prepared that evening, favorite show playing on the bedroom TV, he realized that he loved what you had done with the place.

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

#tangerine #tangerine bullet train #bullet train tangerine #tangerine imagine #tangerine oneshot #tangerine x you #tangerine x reader #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine x f!reader #tangerine x female!reader #bullet train #bullet train movie #bullet train 2022 #tangerine atj #atj tangerine #atj #atj character

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mydrink-n-my2step · 1 month ago

Text

Yandere College Student x Reader

A/N: OMG this is my first ever fanfiction I've ever posted on Tumblr. Please be gentle with me, this is somewhat of a slow-burn fanfic but as the story progresses, it becomes a tad bit freaky...maybe, BUT WE'LL SEE!! I enlarged it for the poor eyesight babes.

TW//: Drug use, mentions of Generalized Anxiety Disorder, Mild Smut at the end.

Yandere College Student who struggles every day with depression since his second year in college began. His Generalized Anxiety Disorder heightened his stress once the new year began. A brand new 2025, new life, new semester, new changes.

Yandere College Student, whose mom suggests he talk to a doctor about taking medication to curb his anxiety. Though he has no insurance or a job, he went. Only needed to pay $90, which his mom hesitated to lend him after he begged. “You told me to go to the doctor’s. “Why can’t you pay for the bill?” He muttered into his phone.

Yandere College Student, whose dorm mate offered him this foreign object that they had used for two months now. Super Lemon Haze.

“Super…Lemon Haze?” He asks, furrowing his eyes. What the hell!?

“Yup,” Yandere College Student grips his friend's arm before yanking him behind the Fine Arts building, where no one is.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” He hissed.

“Just trust me, dude.”

Yandere College Student who took his mother’s advice again and joined a club. The Lonely Hearts Book Club. That’s the name. Upon entering the room of the club, he was greeted by the club’s President, Y/N L/N. Soren felt his heart sink seeing the club Pres. look him up and down with a stern look on her face. On her lips, she tried to stifle a chuckle of embarrassment. To Soren, he thought she was going to laugh at him.

Soren felt his head lathered in sweat as he looked straight at her. He curved his lips into a smile, hoping she would soften her facial expression. The girl looked at him before she opened her mouth. “Welcome to the club! Please, get settled so we can start.”

The girl propped the door behind him open so anyone else could saunter in. Soren surveyed the hot room, noticing that the sweat that was dripping from his face wasn’t from his near anxiety attack, but from the hot room. The fan in the corner was beating on the other seven members. He saw how most were fanning themselves with their books. Each book was the same as the other. Beloved by Toni Morrison.

“Do you have a copy of Beloved, um..” A voice behind him asked. The same saccharine voice that had greeted him at the door. She was obviously waiting for him to answer her with his name. Yet what was taking Soren so long to answer?

“What’s your name?” She asked. Soren looked at her again, he opened his lips to answer before another person entered the door. Though he thought she would focus her attention on the person that just entered, she still locked eyes with his.

“It’s um–Soren…”, “Speak up, I can’t hear you.”

“Soren, and I don’t have a book. I-I can pull it up on my phone.”

“Nonsense, you can borrow mine, I have a limited edition book in my dorm. It’s already annotated, so you can follow along. Have a seat, grab a sandwich or some chips if you like.” Y/N left Soren alone to tend to her members. “Good afternoon, everyone. I’m glad you all can make it on such short notice. We have a new member, I believe. Everyone, introduce yourselves to Soren.” The other members introduced themselves at once, though Soren paid attention to neither. His main focus was on Y/N as she was collecting a club sandwich and Lays potato chips onto her plate. She would come to sit on Soren’s left. Soren may regret not remembering anyone’s name that day, but he would remember Y/n’s hospitality.

As the meeting came to an end, Soren wanted to give himself a round of applause for not having an anxiety attack. He felt content, and all because of her. He wanted to give her a hug for keeping him calm for an hour. Once a few members wandered out of the poorly ventilated room, he had gathered the courage to talk to her. With her back facing him, Soren walked up to her.

“Hi…um, you’re the Club Pres. right?”

“In the living flesh, how may I help you, newbie?” Suddenly, Soren’s stomach tightened up. He clutched his stomach in a not-so-obvious way. He took long, slow, deep breaths as he tried to soothe his ache. His anxious side attacked him for taking a “risk”. To Soren, risks are just everyday tasks. He felt compelled to shut his voices down and finally talk to the girl, who was giving him a concerning glance.

“I-I’m sorry, stomach ache,” Gross, who tells people they’re having a stomach ache?

“Oh, I understand. It was pretty brave of you to show up. I can tell it was hard for you. But thank you, I’ll see you next time.” Y/n’s hands grazed the plate of leftover sandwiches on the table's edge. When she tried to pick them up, it caused the stack of solo cups to fall on the sandwiches and her hands. Soren, who didn’t remove his eyes from her, insisted on helping her pick up the few sandwiches and many cups off the floor. While they both were on their knees taking every item they could, Soren’s hand grazed Y/N’s. Y/N's eyes flicked at Soren’s, and as she looked at him through her eyelashes, she felt her temperature heat up.

Finally getting a good look at the fella, she noticed how his cerulean eyes lit up seeing her. How his charcoal pupils expanded a bit. The tint of his flesh-toned cheeks was turning a vibrant red. He felt like something was wrong. This was the second time Y/n kept her eyes on him for longer than 30 seconds.

What’s wrong with her? Why is she staring at me? Did I do something wrong?

Soren felt something drip from his head, sweat. His hand wiped some sweat off his forehead. His golden locks were sticking to his forehead thanks to his hyperhidrosis. Y/n’s eyes then glanced at his forehead. What was starting to feel like hours, only the clock on the wall passed a minute.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I have a um…staring problem, Soren…Soren?”

“O-oh, sorry, you um scared me there, I suppose I should leave.” Soren hopped off his knees, his six-foot frame towering over Y/n’s crouched body. Y/n tilted her chin up, looking at him once more. This prompted him to leave the room, running out of the hall where others were staring at him.

On his way to the dormitories, he couldn’t help but barricade himself in the communal showers. The guys who were already in the shower room were shocked by his erratic behavior.

“Bruh, are you okay?” asked one guy who was wearing only a towel. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude,” says Soren, whose Dutch accent was starting to slip out, opened the door, and left. Luckily for him, his shared dorm is around the corner.

Meanwhile, Y/n was near completion with her cleaning. It was a crying shame that no one was nice enough to stick around and clean with her. Well, except Soren, though he left so abruptly that he never got her name. Not even the club’s next meeting date. But that mysterious boy was so damn cute, he had the nicest pair of eyes, like those of a Scandinavian super model. Though he had eyebags, and his face was shiny from the oil and sweat combination, he still looked so cute.

As she finished, Y/n dimmed the lights and shut the door, locking it afterwards. With her keys and purse, she left the room and headed straight for the stairs. In her mind, she couldn’t delete thoughts about Soren and his shy nature. His cute accent, his ruffled blonde hair, the way he trips on words, everything.

But what could come next? Would he be embarrassed to show his face around Y/n again? She didn’t want to be the cause of why he stopped showing up to book club.

“I’m home!” she yelled across the dorm room. Her dorm mate, Laela, was busy playing GTA V on her laptop. “Hey Y/n, how was book club?”

“It was a drag, but I met this pretty boy there.” Suddenly, Laela paused her game(though it was still playing in the background), giving her full attention to Y/n. “Ooh, gimme the details?!” What does he look like? What’s his name?”

“He’s this tall European guy with this accent. I think you don’t know him, his name is Soren.” In an instant, Laela’s face scrunched into a cringed face. She tried not to show her disgust, but her attempts were futile. “Soren? Soren Meijer? The creepy kid I was talking about a week ago? THAT SOREN!?” Her eyebrows rose while she stifled a laugh.

“Your cousin’s neighbor? That's Soren?” Laela nodded while covering her mouth with her manicured hands. Y/n blinked profusely. Less than a week ago, Laela went on a rant about this guy whom her cousin caught talking to himself as if he were in an argument with someone else. And sure, he probably was on the phone with his earbuds in, but to Laela’s cousin, and anyone else who lives near Soren, would assume that he was talking to himself.

“Look, Laela, people talk to themselves all the time,” Y/n spoke softly, jumping on top of her elevated bed to sit on the edge of her bed. “Well, not me, I’m not crazy like him.” Y/n sighed, rolling her eyes at her shallow friend. She would take out her laptop and continue with her essay.

In his dorm, alone because his dormmate had classes at night, Soren leaned his back against his desk chair, his eyes never leaving his computer screen. As his eyes danced to the movements and flashing colors of the screen, his poor memory reminded him of today. Ugh, why was he such a klutz today at that meeting? No one knows, but what really had him contemplating was that girl. She was so scary, but something in her made him want to shut his anxious mind the hell up!

She had this nice vibe to her. Something like a confetti cake and cotton candy. A golden retriever that was raised by Mr. Rogers or something! Whatever it was, he liked it. And he craved for more.

Too bad he goes to a huge school. Before today, he had never acknowledged anyone on campus before–and why would he need to? Everyone thinks he’s a creep, some weirdo boy from middle of bumfuck nowhere Netherlands. Maybe she would appear again in the halls during school hours or at lunch. Even though he never appears in the cafeteria, let alone eats the food there, he could try to show up to see her again.

His eyes would stray away from the YouTube video, seeing his stash of weed that his friend had given him earlier that week. He had negative thoughts on the weed variant after researching it online. First and foremost, where in the hell did they get it from? Second, wouldn’t he get caught with the weed? Ah, who cares? Maybe he’ll try it. It shouldn’t hurt at all.

A few minutes after searching up how to roll weed, he rummaged through his roomie’s bag for some paper, crushed the kush in the bag, and emptied some onto the paper before rolling it, sealing it like an envelope. Though it didn’t look like the person in his videos, it was still able to cause a high. And high was Soren. 20 minutes later. The room became so wobbly, like new glasses wobbly. The YouTuber on his laptop was distorted, their face became green, and he began to talk to him.

“Aye, Sorennnn, look behind you, brah.” The game characters that were on screen turned around and chanted, “Look behind you, look behind you…” Soren chuckled, maybe burst out laughing a little too hard, he was high as hell. He snorted a bit before he felt soft hands against his broad shoulders. His ivory face turned apricot when he looked behind him to see, “Y…Y/nnn?” Y/n, a green spector, pressed her index finger against his plump, rosy lips. Her hands lifted his face to face her.

“I know you like me Sorey, you don’t have to hide it.”

“But I don–”

“Yes, you do. You wouldn’t be so hard for me right now, that is, if you’re truly not crushing on me.” Something was odd about Y/n, she was acting like a…a minx. And he indeed likes it. He liked her forwardness. The way her pretty hands were caressing his golden hair and feeling his forehead like a mother would.

Upon looking at his dick, he felt her fingers petting his stubble. Somehow making his arousal worse, as his dick was moving in his pants. He was struggling not to show his rager. His hands were sweaty from her.

“Don’t be a pussy,” She said, moving to take his left hand into hers. In reality, he was moving his hand on his own, “Do it, touch it for me, I wanna hear your moans.” She whispered. His hands unbuttoned his jeans, left hand going deeper into his plaid boxers, which were already stained with pre-cum. He pulled his pecker out, gradually jerking it off to his imaginery crush. His finger pads held him tighter, imagining it was her. Then suddenly, he heard some giggles.

“You’re a pro at this! Maybe I should…help you out.” She said, her fingers touching his chin before she went down under his desk and between his legs. For a human, she acts like a ghost. Going through bodies and shit.

Without knowing, Soren spat in his palm.

Y/n’s mouth opened before she took his length inside. She looked up when he moaned, a light chuckling muffled from her stuffed mouth. And she would begin, her head bobbing up and down. His mouth opened as he moaned. Again, for a figment of his imagination, she was good at this.

When he was about to orgasm, she released her mouth from his cock, he looked down when she locked eyes with him. Her hand was still pumping him.

“I love you, you know that?” She suddenly spoke.

“Love?” He enunciated.

“Yeah, what if we could…”

“Soren? Bro, what are you doing in the dark?”

“Fuck!” He screamed as he came in his pants.

“You seem to be busy, I’ll leave you alone.” His roommate responds, shutting the door instantaneously.

Soren was not aware of the interruption as his mind was still foggy from the strain. Once he had come undone, he had blinked, and then she was gone. She was no longer on the floor. She had disappeared.

Soren was confused as he was distraught. Where did she go? “Y/n? Y/n, where are you?” He stood up abruptly, shoving his chair roughly as he surveyed his room. She was actually gone. And he may be half naked and with his dick out, swinging around. He realized what he had done, taking off his pants and pulling them down so he could slip into some pajamas. Though he was tired and still high, he managed to find his bed and crash on it. Not having a care in the world about how cold he was.

Whoever stumbled upon my work, thank you so much. It was a nice day to write this. Maybe I should reward myself with a cookie or some alone time.

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere smut #fanfiction #smut #college life #university #soren my oc #yandere headcanons #yancore #yan blog #yandere x reader #male yandere #yan boy #netherlands

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unboundprompts · 2 years ago

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Ways to describe golden/yellow/amber eyes? If you’ve done it already, could you link the post?

Different Ways to Describe Gold/Yellow (ish) Eyes

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

She had eyes like molten gold.

When the light hit his eyes just right, they reflected a perfect shade of yellow.

Their eyes were the first thing he noticed. They had oval slits-- like a cat's-- and were golden.

Her eyes were honey-glazed.

She thought his eyes held a hundred shades of gold.

Their eyes were like lemons, he decided. Just as sour as their personality.

He had eyes that could outshine the sun, and they couldn't help but to stare.

Her eyes were as bright as the raging sun and the color of dancing flames.

They had a smile like spring, but their eyes were autumn with a hint of passing summer.

Her eyes were the color of honey, irises swirling like the sweet nectar.

His eyes—the color of an intoxicating champagne—beckoned her over with nothing more than a wink and a smile.

Their eyes weren't quite yellow, but as gold as a ring on your finger.

The sun hit her eyes like a bullet.

If Gods existed they hid away in his eyes.

They had eyes like a blazing setting sun.

Her dark eyes were flaked with gold.

His eyes made her think of the sandcastles she used to build as a kid.

Their eyes were so bright that it put diamonds to shame.

Her eyes were encased in rings of gold.

If you like what I do and want to support me, please consider buying me a coffee! I also offer editing services and other writing advice on my Ko-fi! Become a member to receive exclusive content, early access, and prioritized writing prompt requests.

#writing prompts #dialogue prompt #otp prompts #soft prompts #prompt list #rp prompts #writing prompt #romance prompts #dialogue ideas #writing ideas #love prompts #character description

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adelheidvonschicksal · 1 year ago

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hiii!! how are you? god, it's my first time requesting and I'm super awkward but I've been kinda having this dark mc brain rot! what would the love and Deepspace boys do with a secret gambler mc who's just like yumeko jabami? that'd be so interesting! feel free to ignore this ask if that makes you uncomfortable and have a nice day!

🎲 LND Scenarios with Dark Gambler!MC

🎲 Synopsis: Love and Deepspace men dealing with their dark gambler partner's eccentrics.

🎲 Pairing: LND x GN!Reader

🎲 Content Warning: sexual undertones, mild humor, no pronouns/looks mentioned (Jabami is for the aesthetic), Zayne is the only one vibing, there's no mercy in kitty cards!

🎲 A/N: Thanks for letting me take a crack at your request. I never watched Kakeguri but I think I got the vibe! I did tone the behavior down a little to fit LND more but I think you'll be satisfied. Zayne's part turned into my favorite even though I had the hardest time thinking of a scene for him!

“Let me have a turn.”

Xavier shudders at the dark aura he senses behind him despite the sweet smile plastered on your face. It’s almost like seeing a demon reflecting in the glass of the claw machine but in the form of an angel. He knew it was a bad idea to come to the arcade. He was no good at the machine no matter how much he tried and the nearly empty bowl where his tokens once laid was the proof.

“It’s alright. I didn’t think I could get it anyway. I’m not really good at this game.”

You frown at him. “It’s not you, love. These games are designed to cheat people out their money. It's disgusting really.”

Xavier gulps at that word. Cheat. If there was one thing you hated in this world, it was unfairness. The crooked smile forming on your face forces him to return eye contact with the special edition bunny plush he’s failed to get time and time again. Somehow, he sees fear in its eyes.

“I’ll get it for you.” Your hand reaches into the coin bowl; each clink makes his throat tighten as you finally pull out one of the coins between your fingers. “That bunny will be coming home with us.”

Xavier knows there’s little he can do when you sound that determined. Luckily, you won the bunny in two attempts.

“Ta-da! A fluffy bunny for my fluffy bunny.”

A sense of relief washes over him when the round rabbit hits his hands. Maybe he was being overly paranoid. However, his relief is quickly buffed out by anxiety when he sees you place another coin in the machine. It’s only a few seconds before the chimes of the machine go off again. Then, you pass him another toy, a carrot this time.

“Every bunny needs a snack!” you coo, but your tone carries that familiar edge that makes the hair on the back of his neck stand. “Now, whom shall we capture next?”

To Xavier, it sounds less like a question and more like a decree of war. “I think these two are more than enough for today."

“Xavier, this game stole forty dollars from you. I’m not going to let it get away with that,” you declare, proving it was just as he feared as your voice lowers. “Now, which one do you want, dear? Oh, I know, I'll just win them all for you! How does that sound?" you ask, but Xavier is eerily aware that it won’t matter what he says when you’re like this.

“Here we go!” you mewl as the claw begins to whir up.

Ignoring the shiver that climbs up his spine when your voice drips with the venom of ecstasy, there’s little Xavier can do but take another step back, buy another bowl of coins, and hold them for you as the role of a supportive boyfriend.

It’s an hour later when he finds himself surrounded by plushies, much more than he can hold, and the fear that you’re going to get kicked out the arcade any second.

“Cleaned out again!” you announce with a shrill breathy gasp, the giggle you give reminding him of the maniacal laughter Lemonette chortles out whenever the wanderer sprays lemon juice in his eyes. “Tell the employees we need another refill.”

“We don't have enough hands to carry all the ones you already won.”

“What?” Your focus finally breaks from the game and to the many toys scattered on the floor around him, overtaking his feet, then to the worried look on his face. “I went overboard again, didn’t I?”

Xavier sighs. “I think that’s pretty obvious.”

“Why didn’t you stop me?”

“How do you suggest I do that?” he asks with a shake of his head. “You’re impossible to stop.”

You flutter your eyelashes at him innocently. “I did get you your bunny though!”

“At the cost of the poor arcade owner’s precious sanity,” he reminds you but the smile on his face is less than scolding when he sees the guilty sulk you have and the lax of your shoulders. “Let’s find a donation center to drop these little guys off. We’ll count it as our good deed for the month.”

“Good idea! How about we surprise all the kids at the hospital?” you agree. Xavier chuckles. There’s the angel again.

“Pretty please, Rafayel!”

The painter rolls his eyes, scooting further away from you to find a different spot on the floor to sit as you crawl after him. Rafayel turns his head away and strokes his paintbrush down the center of his canvas.

“No. Now, go away. Shoo. Shoo, go paw at someone else,” he says, waving the wet paintbrush at you.

“But no one else will play with me,” you whine.

“I wonder why?”

You are terrifying when you play kitty cards. Unfortunately, he was once the only one foolish enough to play with you because he wasn’t aware of how you got when you gambled even when the winnings were only a few pieces of chocolate. He knows better now. Despite your cute precious face, you were evil incarnate when it came to games.

“Surely, you pity me my dear sweet, gorgeous boyfriend. Did I forget to mention talented?” You give him the puppy eyes to try to wear down his resolve; your hand glides over his bangs, lovingly pushing them from his face. As much as he loves trying to make you happy, this is one of the few things in the world that he refuses to listen to you about.

“As true as all of that may be, I prefer living thanks,” he says before switching brushes to another color. A splash of blue would be excellent.

“Is this about last time?” you ask him. “It was an accident.”

“You nearly broke my hand!”

“You were trying to swap the kitties!” you yell back. Rafayel was a no-good cheater when it came to playing games and not the least bit sorry about it. It’s not your fault that you grabbed his hand by reflex nor that he was so dramatic about it.

“So, the sentence is hand breaking? That's cruel and unusual punishment!” he says with a gasp.

"Is it wrong to take away your tool for cheating?"

“Have you forgotten what I do for a living? You might as well lay me out in the sun to dry.”

Sighing, you decide to agree with him. You suppose you could be a little competitive when it came to games. Besides, they say it’s easier to catch more flies with honey. “Look, I’m sorry, baby,” you apologize and smooth out a hand over his thigh. “How about I give you a super special prize if you win.”

Rafayel barely looks at you from the corner of his eyes that slowly drop to where your hand rests on his leg. You’re on your hands and knees next to him, perched up like a cat begging to be petted.

“I’m listening,” he says, continuing to mix his paints. Purring, you lean in and whisper in his ear the prizes you’re willing to trade for him to play one little round with you.

His heart races with each word. It’s suddenly becoming harder to keep the stroke of the brush straight when your hand starts to trail further and further up his thigh. “Well, when you put it that way—” and he almost gives in until he sees the corner of your lips curling up into a smirk. “Wait. No. I refuse.”

“Not even if—” and you whisper in his ear again. He swears the brush handle will splinter if he grips it any tighter. His face is glowing a light red by the time you pull away. He might be Lumerian but he’s still a man; it’s difficult to bury the memories of pleasure under the memories of his fingers squeezing in your hard grip the last time you caught him cheating. He manages, somehow.

“How easy do you think I am? I’m not open for business whenever you want, darling.” He manages to spat out, not exactly the best rejection but it’ll suffice.

You puff up your cheeks at him. “You’re the meanest boyfriend ever!”

“And you’re evil when a card gets in your hand,” he argues back. The last thing he sees is the red of your shirt as you pounce on him and blue paint spilling across the floor.

“You’re so nice, Zayne. You’re the only one who's brave enough to play against me.”

Zayne glances up from the stack of cards in his hands to catch your tongue glancing over your lips to wet them as you stare him down with dilated eyes. He expected you to get worked up but not quite this early into the game.

“I had the free time today.”

The real reason he schedules these regular games with you is to keep your strange habit under control, like providing a little bit of a drug to an addict; or in simpler terms, walking an overly energetic Husky so it won’t tear up the furniture. It beats the many times you ring him up at two in the morning, needing him to come rescue you out of a tough situation. He knows you’ll never learn your lesson with him always swooping in when needed, but he can’t stand the possibility of you getting hurt should he not come to your rescue every time you over bet your hand and need him to win back your money for you. The doctor never really expected to be a poker or kitty card expert at this age but alas.

“I’m guessing there’s at least one Kitty Plot in your hand, am I right?” you ask him; and he doesn’t understand how you sound more excited each time he obtains another assist card.

“And if I told you there was?”

The giggle you let out sounds much too vulgar for a simple game of kitty cards, but he’s used to this eccentricity of yours at this point. “Then that means I get to beat you even when you’re at your best!”

You slap down a Freeze card and Skip card. There’s not much he can do other than draw his assist card and ride out your next turn. In the next phase, you throw out another assist card, one that will allow you to restock your empty number stockpile and seal your victory.

“Any last words?” you ask him. He can see that you’re starting to twitch with the excitement that comes from besting him. It’s the most dramatic thing he’s seen, but he’d be a liar to say it wasn’t…satisfying…to watch your face fill with shock as he blocks your finishing move with a Meow This. Maybe you were rubbing off on him after all, he muses.

“You held on to that all this time?” you ask him, recalling the many chances he could’ve blocked your earlier plays. You were aware he was luring you into a trap by playing the slow game, but you thought you could get around it this time. With a dreamy sigh, you cup your cheek in your hand. “I should’ve known. Just careless.”

“Any last words?” he asks, mocking your earlier victory line.

“None I’m afraid. I’m completely at your mercy; helpless in the face of your onslaught,” you tell him, and he ignores the little tilt of seduction lacing your voice and the squirming of your thighs as he starts erasing every point you’ve earned.

Slowly, your points decrease one by one as he throws out assist after assist while you let out little whimpers and mutter compliments under your breath with each cup color change and point reducer he throws out.

You’re going to lose! Again! He’s incredible as always.

But you’re offered deliverance when instead of erasing the six points of your blue kitty the cup color changes to match it. You hear Zayne “tch” under his breath, and you can’t help but laugh when he finally has to give up and fill the last white kitty cup with a pathetic low-level kitten.

In the end, you only won by two points but that was all you needed.

“I won…I won!” you repeat, rocking back and forth as you hug yourself and toss your head back. “I finally beat you! You won’t believe how long I waited for this day! Now what should my prize be?” You fall back onto the floor, kicking your feet. “It’s so hard to decide. I honestly didn’t think this day would come! There are so many things I’ve dreamed of making you do for me!”

Zayne presses his lips into a thin line as he begins to collect the kittens from the cup. “Calm down. You’re drooling on the carpet,” he exaggerates, not that you're in the right mind to listen.

“I got it. I know just what I want,” you squeal, holding your finger in your mouth to muffle your laughs. Zayne tenses when you sit up, much like a vampire from a horror movie, and lock eyes with him; he doesn’t think he’s felt so targeted since his days in the military.

“Meow for me, Zayne,” you demand, and his face burns at the ridiculousness of your request.

“You—”

“Are you backing out? That’s poor sportsmanship especially considering I took every nasty medicine each time you won.”

Zayne shakes his head. “No. I was simply thinking that’s surprisingly tame for you.”

You lift your eyebrows curiously. “So, does that mean?”

Zayne leans in over the table. In this position, he can see how your face softens from that lust-filled haze that gambling always manages to place over you. He doesn’t know if you can actually get embarrassed, but you certainly look flustered as he locks eyes with you.

“Meow.”

“Oh,” you gasp, eyes wide. “T-That was absolutely wonderful,” you blurt out with a clasp of your hands. “Do it again.”

“It was a one-time deal,” Zayne rejects before straightening his back.

“I didn’t think you would do it. One more little meow for me?” you plead. “This was a special victory, and I didn’t get to enjoy my winnings properly.”

“If you want to hear it again, I’m afraid you’ll have to beat me a second time,” he answers bluntly.

“And if you win?”

“You do what I want.”

“Which is?”

Zayne smirks at you. “All I can tell you is that I’ll ask for much more than a meow.”

“You’re on! You’re on! You’re on! What better way to solidify my position as the best kitty card player than with a streak?”

“I take it we’re playing on Hell Mode then.”

“What do you mean? It’s always heaven playing against you, Zayne. You’re the only one who can give an actual challenge,” you sweetly coo, nearly a moan. “Unfortunately, your reign will officially be coming to an end. I’m going to beat you without luck; and when I do, I think I’ll make you meow and purr for my reward.”

“Hurry and restart the match then if you believe that.”

Zayne watches as you excitedly set the game back up. He supposes that this type of gambling is more fun than gambling with chocolates. At least until he sees your social media message the next morning.

Guess who finally toppled the old king and became the new Ruler of Kitty Cards? I won’t name them. No one asked. It’s not polite to be a sore loser, my adorable meowing subject.

#zayne x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #love and deepspace x reader #lnd x reader #notsfw #adelssmut

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breelandwalker · 5 months ago

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Magical Oil Recipes - Glamour Edition

For anyone looking to brew up some magic related to glamours, confidence, physical appearance, or eloquence, here are some recipes I’ve created that you might find useful.

To prepare them, blend the ingredients in such proportions as feels correct for your purposes (or as supplies allow). Use dried material except where indicated. Place a few spoonfuls in a mason jar with a screwtop lid and fill the jar with a bland oil of your choice. (Vegetable oil of the sort you would buy for cooking works fine.) Screw the lid on tightly and shake well to combine, then leave the jar in a dark dry place for 2-4 weeks to steep.

Once steeped, prepare a clean storage bottle (also with a secure lid) and label with the type of oil and the bottling date. Strain the oil through paper towels or cheesecloth to remove the plant material, then bottle immediately. Store away from sunlight and heat for up to one year. Use for spellwork as you see fit.

(Please note that NONE of these potions are meant to be taken internally by any means. Observe all proper safety measures related to glass, fire, and potentially harmful plants as necessary during preparation.)

*- Ingredient is potentially harmful if inhaled or ingested. **- Ingredient should not be used or handled if you are pregnant or nursing.

Belle of the Ball Beauty Oil For beauty glamours.

Orange Peel

Magnolia Petal

Maidenhair Fern

Primrose Blossoms**

Brand New Me Transformation Oil For self-improvement, physical changes, or personal growth.

Fennel

Lady's Mantle**

Pine Needles

Geranium Essential Oil Note: If your personal journey includes adjusting to a change in gender or sexuality, add a few Persimmon seeds to the mix.

Honeytongue Eloquence Oil For verbal persuasion and effective speech.

Honeysuckle

Orris Root

Licorice Root

Marshmallow Root** Note: Do not consume.

Increase the Thing Empowerment Oil For self-empowerment and glamours pertaining thereto.

Petunia Petals

Bergamot

Lemon Verbena

Sunflower Petals

It Wasn't Me Diversion Oil For diverting suspicion from yourself or your actions.

Dogbane (Black Hemp)

Cherry Bark

Blueberry Leaves

Marshmallow Root**

Lionheart Courage Oil For bravery and confidence spells.

Black Tea Leaves

Bay Leaf

Cedar Tips

Thyme Sprigs

Own the Runway Confidence Oil For supreme confidence.

Yarrow**

Sumac Berries

Ginger Root, Fresh

Pass Unseen Stealth Oil For perceived invisibility glamours.

Cherry Bark or Blossoms

Poppy Seeds**

Devil's Shoestring**

Dogwood Blossoms (if available)

Tearoom Forbearance Oil For when you need to keep your temper…no matter what.

Tea Leaves

Meadowsweet**

Echinacea**

Fir Balsam Essential Oil

Should the reader require supplies, I recommend the following:

Penn Herb Company

Starwest Botanicals

Bulk Apothecary

Mountain Rose Herbs

Specialty Bottle

Photo Credit - VeraPetruk

If you’re enjoying my content, please feel free to drop a little something in the tip jar, tune in to my podcast Hex Positive, or check out my published works on Amazon or in the Willow Wings Witch Shop.

#witchcraft #witchblr #witch community #witch tips #potions #Pestlework #potion recipes

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schrodingers-romy · 1 year ago

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Lemon Blueberry [Suzuri Shuhei x Reader]

Pairing: Suzuri Shuhei x GN!Reader Word Count: ~2300 [Ao3 Link]

Summary: Shuhei bakes for the first time, with you

Warnings: Spoilers for the manga (suzuri's backstory and current occupation); also warning for light mentions of Stuff Pertinent to his backstory as well; no gendered pronouns or terms are used for the reader; kissing; feeding each other food with your hands idk; written with aged up suzuri in mind

Notes: wrote this a while ago and it's barely edited but I haven't seen any suzuri fics so I have to make my own food <3

The light of the setting sun bathed the kitchen in its soft honey glow. Your focus shifted for just a second, away from the finicky stand mixer in front of you to the window, no doubt admiring the clouds cast in their colorful glow. And as cliché as it sounds, Shuhei thought that you are undoubtedly more beautiful than any sunset could ever be.

And to think he used to mock those who loved…

It still seemed like a dream sometimes. Partially the idea of making an honest living, enough for the rent on an apartment and a healthy three meals a day without stretching it; things he fought bloody tooth and nail for in the past were now within his grasp. And even more than that, he was fulfilled emotionally and mentally in a way that he never was before. He had pride in himself now, not the false, vindictively bitter and caustic ‘pride’ he had before, but true pride. The sort that came from improving, and learning, and going to sleep every night feeling content in himself and his actions.

(In his darker moments, he feared going to sleep, just in case when he woke, he was back There and all of this was the machinations of his starved mind.)

If it was all a dream, Shuhei thought, you were certainly the cruelest part of it. You, who befriended him back when he was still the starved, bruised wraith who first started working in the kitchen of a fancy red light restaurant, scrubbing plates until his hands peeled. You, who knew his dirty past from Tsubaki, but never looked down on him for it. You, who treated him like a person, and who made him feel more real than he had in years. You, who through soft smiles and gentle teasing and homecooked meals gave him his first taste of what falling in love must feel like. He never really believed in any sort of benevolent god (what sort of good god would let him suffer as he once did, anyway); yet he prayed every night that this (that you) were real.

Seemingly oblivious to his thoughts, you broke the silence by giving the mixer a theatrical slap on its side, like you were patting the flank of a beloved horse. “Are you ready?” you asked.

He nodded a little stiffly, hoping you hadn’t noticed him staring. (Although, you were a bit oblivious, he thought, because he is horrible at hiding his infatuation with you).

Shuhei had been over to your house a handful of times, mostly to hang out, or for dinner. This is the first time he would be helping in your kitchen. Despite the fact that he had been learning all that he could about cooking from his job, he had never baked something in his life. And that’s where you came in.

After hearing that, the first thing you suggested was for him to come over so the two of you could bake something together, and he had jumped at the golden opportunity to not only learn a new skill, but also to spend time with you (and also to eat good food, but that was a given).

“I hope you don’t mind, I had something picked out already,” you said, as you adjusted the colorful containers of ingredients situated on the counter in front of you. “Cookies are kind of the obvious thing to bake for your first time, but I have a recipe I think you’ll really like.”

“And what’s that?”

You turn the full force of your smile to him, and he squints a bit. “Lemon blueberry bread! I know you like the taste of fresh fruit, so I thought this would be perfect. And it’s not a very difficult recipe anyway.”

You were right…as you usually were about him. He had never told you, but he did gravitate towards fruit when he had the chance. Fruit was a luxury he could never really partake in where he used to live; it spoiled quickly and couldn’t be kept down when it was bad. Even the thought of fresh lemons and blueberries had him salivating, and you laughed at his eager expression.

“You know me so well,” he said, careful to keep his voice from being too sappy.

You flashed him another smile, and presented him with a measuring cup. “Can you measure out the sugar for me?”

Shuhei was a fast learner, and it was no different with baking. He had a lot of questions, and you answered them to the best of your ability.

“Why do you add the wet ingredients to the dry ingredients instead of the other way around?”

“I’m sure there’s probably a scientific reason for it that I don’t know…but it is less messy than dumping a bunch of powder, and when you pour the liquid, it mixes a bit instead of just floating on top.”

“How do you know it’s done mixing?”

“Depends on what you’re making. Here it should look uniform and smooth…see how there’s still some little lumps in there? It needs to go for longer. Some recipes need to be mixed for a long time, so they get more air in them…doesn’t really matter for this though.”

“Why are you putting flour on the blueberries?”

“It keeps them from sinking when it bakes, so you get blueberries all the way through the bread instead of just at the bottom.”

“Can I eat some of it now?”

You hesitated for a second. “Well…you’re not really supposed to eat stuff with raw egg in it, but we should have a little taste, so we know if we need to add anything.” You pulled a spoon out of seemingly nowhere and dipped the tip of it in the yellow batter. Shuhei expected you to hand the spoon to him, but instead you held it up towards his mouth, and looked at him expectantly.

He could feel his face heating up at the fact that you’re feeding him; and he panicked a little bit. He ended up biting down hard on the spoon when he tried to taste the batter, making an audible click.

The two of you winced in unison, his from pain and yours from sympathy.

“I’d give that a zero out of ten for gracefulness,” you commented, “But anyway how does it taste?”

Shuhei felt even more red than he was before, but through his embarrassment and the pain in his teeth, he can still taste the bright citrus flavor. “It’s good.”

“Knew it!” you crowed, and then you gave him a heart attack by using the spoon to take your own sampling of the batter. “Mmmm. Yeah. We did good.”

You used the same spoon that he had just had in his mouth. That was essentially an indirect kiss.

You were going to be the death of him.

After the bread was placed in the oven, and all the dishes were washed and put away, the two of you sat down on the couch to await the ding of the timer.

“So, how do you feel after your first time baking?” you asked, looking at him hopefully.

Shuhei knew you wanted him to enjoy it, and he privately thought it was cute of you to be so invested in his happiness. Luckily for you, Shuhei loved making food (and he loved spending time with you). “I feel good. It was fun, I just hope it turns out good.”

Your laughter leaned more into a cackle than a giggle, but he still thought you were adorable. “I thought you’d like it! And I’m sure it will be delicious, especially since you helped me.” You shuffled a bit closer to him on the couch to give him a teasing poke, your eyes sparkling.

He raised an eyebrow at you, trying to keep the corner of his mouth from twitching up in amusement. “Oh, does my help make it better?”

“Hmmm…I don’t know…didn’t your boss tell you you had ‘the magic touch’ with food last week?” you said, smirking at him. “Maybe you added some of your magic to this bread.”

He scoffed, turning away from you to hide his blush. “My boss is too nice. I just pick things up quickly, that’s all. ‘S nothing special.”

You poked at him again, repeatedly with your finger until he turned back towards you to smack your hand away (gently, because he didn’t want to hurt you). Your face had dropped its previous joking expression, replaced with a painfully open one. His heart caught in his throat at the soft curve of your mouth and the warmth in your eyes.

“I think you’re pretty special,” you said earnestly; your eyes shine with something he can now recognize looks a lot like love.

The timer sounded at that moment, and you sprung up from your spot to go check the bread. You moved suspiciously quickly, like you were embarrassed at your admission.

Shuhei remained sitting on the couch, frozen. He felt more dazed than when Tsubaki had cleaned his clock with a kick to his head. He barely dared to hope…but maybe, just maybe, you also felt for him what he felt for you.

The bread was already out of the oven and cooling when Shuhei pulled himself together and entered the kitchen. The two of you stared at the cooling bread in silence for a moment. The kitchen is filled with the warm scent of baked bread and sweet lemon. Shuhei felt the urge to lick the bread so he could finally taste it. His stomach growled, breaking the silence.

“I’m so fucking hungry,” he finally said.

“Oh my gosh, same,” you said. “It smells so good I think I’m drooling.”

“How long do we have to wait to eat?”

“I mean…really we should wait until it fully cools so we can put the glaze on…”

He turned to give you his best starving puppy dog face (a face he has created and perfected in the time he has known you).

You hesitated, glancing between him, the bread, and the unused glass of lemon glaze. He could see the conflict in your eyes, until you finally gave in, shoulders slumping as you sigh.

“Y’know what, it’s cool enough. You wanna do the honors?”

He was a little clumsy with the glaze, and most of it is absorbed into the warm bread, but you applauded him when he was done anyways. “Okay now, you’re officially done with your first bake!”

“Time to eat?” he asked eagerly.

You broke out an oversized bread knife, which glinted in the light. (If you weren’t so cute, Shuhei thought, it would look threatening). “Yup!”

You sit next to each other on the hard kitchen floor, each holding a thick, warm slice of bread in your bare hands, because you were both too hungry to grab plates and utensils and move to a table.

You gave him a nod, and he took his first bite.

If Shuhei thought the batter was good, the finished bread was heavenly. It was soft, but still packed a powerful burst of tart lemon flavor, and the blueberries had cooked down into an almost jam-like consistency that gave the perfect sweetness to the rest of the bread. Before he knew it, he had devoured the entire slice ravenously.

When he looked back up, you were still holding your own slice, forgotten as you stared at him.

He felt a burst of self-consciousness. He knew he still ate like a rabid animal sometimes; his mind and body still remembered what it was like to starve, even when his stomach was full.

But you don’t look like you’re judging him. Instead, you have that same shine in your eyes again.

“It’s good,” he said lamely, to break the tension.

You simply smiled at this and broke off a piece of your own slice of bread, holding it out to him, towards his mouth (once again).

Shuhei was careful to be gentle this time. He tried to keep from touching you, but your fingers brush against his lips anyway. His skin burned where you touched, and he burned even more under your unmoving gaze.

He reached out for your bread, breaking off a piece himself. It’s clear you expected him to eat it, but it’s his turn to surprise you. He held out the chunk of bread to you, fingers trembling minutely with his nervousness. He resolutely kept his eyes on you, even though he could feel his face radiating heat, so he didn’t miss seeing the shock on your face, and the light glaze to your eyes as you take the piece from his hand.

Your lips were soft when they touched his calloused fingers, and his heart stuttered when he felt the lightest touch of your tongue.

You finished the slice off that way, feeding each other pieces without speaking a word. When it’s finally gone, he reached out one more time, to grab your hands and cradle them in his own.

Shuhei knew how he felt about you; he never really thought you felt anything more than friendship for him, but this night had opened his eyes. Even if he was wrong, after all of this, he finally had the courage to find out what you really felt.

He waited to see if you pulled away, but instead you edged closer to him.

“Hey Shuhei,” you murmured.

“Yeah?” he asked, breathless.

The way you looked at him was so filled with tenderness; it almost made his eyes water. “I like you,” you said. “I like you, so much. I might love you.”

He didn’t even realize he was holding his breath until he let out a shuddering exhale at your words.

“I’ve never felt like this about anyone before,” he confessed. “But I think it’s love.”

Your answer came in the form of a kiss.

Your lips were even softer when they were pressed against his own, and the flavor of lemon and blueberry was even sweeter when he licked it from inside your mouth.

#wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker fluff #suzuri shuhei x reader #suzuri shuhei #shuhei suzuri x reader #shuhei suzuri #gender neutral reader #reader insert #romy can write

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aoioozora · 1 year ago

Text

Simon.

Part 10

Chapters Masterlist

Character: Simon Riley / Ghost Content: Biker! Ghost x Fem! Reader, strangers to lovers, fluff, civilian au

Note: Took me too long just to get down the first draft but editing it was pleasant. Please enjoy my hard work :')

“Last man left, you broken hearted, let me treat you right…

Shorty if you need me, I could pull up any night.

You just say the words, girl, I don't need a reason…

Give me something more than just a lover on the weekend…”

Johnny's soft singing filled the quietness of the afternoon as he, Gaz, and Simon sat together on the dock, fishing rods in their hands, staring at the distant, hazy hills and the rippling water of the lake. The ladies were left to nap in the tent, while the men had their ‘boys time’, and what better way to spend it than fishing.

“Johnny,” Gaz called, shifting ever so slightly in his picnic chair so as to not disturb the movement of his fishing rod.

“Hm?”

“Stop singing, you'll scare the fish away.”

“Nonsense. Am no’ even singin’ tha’ loud.”

“Yeah, but you will get louder as you go on, so shut up.”

Johnny groaned and stopped singing. The three sat in silence again, waiting for a fish to take bait. Johnny and Gaz were relatively comfortable sitting still, as they knew that when it came to fishing, patience was the highest virtue. But Simon was antsy, and his knee bounced like a low dribbled basketball on steroids.

This was visible in Johnny’s periphery, and he grew increasingly annoyed at how it distracted him from enjoying the slower pace of the lazy afternoon. Having enough, he delivered a hard slap to Simon’s knee, and the victim let out a bellow of surprise.

“What the fuck, Johnny?!” Simon snapped, nearly getting out of his seat, ready to throw hands.

Johnny shushed him. “Stop shaking so much, ye absolute lemon,” he chided under his breath, “Whit's oan yer mind?”

“Nothing,” Simon looked sideways as he muttered quietly, now sitting back down.

Johnny and Gaz looked at each other and then rolled their eyes. Gaz quipped, “I don't know if you know, but when you shake your knee like that, it means that something’s bothering you.”

“Aye, he's right. I've seen it too,” Johnny agreed with a nod, “So, whit is it?”

Simon hesitated.

“C'mon, mate,” Gaz tried to encourage Simon, “No secrets, remember?”

Simon let out a sound that was half a sigh and half a groan. He turned to Johnny, “Fine! Johnny, do you like Lindsey?”

“Aye, I do?” Johnny answered immediately, raising his eyebrows at the question, “I thought I made it obvious?”

Simon narrowed his eyes. “I mean, for real? Do you really like her or are you just messing around like you always do?”

“Why do ye want tae ken?” Johnny’s voice now grew a little quieter.

“____ asked,” Simon answered, sitting back and sighing. He glanced at his friend, who was looking back at him. “She wants to know if you're serious about her. And from the looks of it, she won't take kindly to you playing around.”

Johnny's lips pursed into a thin line when he heard this, and he too sat back in his chair, now silent and thoughtful. Gaz and Simon stared at him, waiting for an answer.

“I do like her, she's bonny,” he answered quietly with a shrug, the look on his face a little distant and dreamy.

“You say that to every woman you talk to,” Simon retorted, though he was a little surprised by the rare look on his friend's face, a look he'd seen only once.

“No, no. Wait,” Gaz hushed Simon, “He's not done.”

Johnny shifted in his seat and continued, now a little solemn, “Am serious. I like her… a lot. She's bonny, and cute… she has nice hair and,” he smiled a little, “a face like a mouse. Squeaks a lot like one too.”

Simon glanced at Gaz, who looked back at him with a smirk on his face. They waited for him to elaborate.

“That's all ye will get,” Johnny huffed, sitting back on his chair. In reality, the attraction he felt for Lindsey couldn't be put into words. Something about her bashfulness, her feistiness, her cute pouts and frowns, and particularly her glowing, gorgeous green eyes that reminded him of the rolling Highlands tickled a spot in his heart that he had long closed away.

Gaz began teasing Johnny, giving him light and playful pushes and shoves. Johnny, a little embarrassed, swatted his friend’s hands away while laughing and trying to counter Gaz’s teasing. Simon watched their banter, particularly looking at Johnny. He found his best friend’s behaviour peculiar, something he’s never personally seen before.

He knew Johnny to be a smooth talker, a man who knew just the right words to say to make a woman fall head over heels for him. Johnny’s normal behaviour with a casual crush or fling was to talk incessantly and excitedly about them as if to overcompensate for the shallow feelings, but when it came to Lindsey, it was almost surprising to see him so solemn, so quiet, so thoughtful, even dreamy.

Simon was more-or-less now convinced that his best friend really did like Lindsey and let out a sigh of relief on behalf of ____ as he turned his focus on the still waters.

When the Gaz-Johnny banter died down, Johnny then turned to Simon to ask, “Whit about ye?”

“What about me?” Simon returned, confused.

“With ____, ye lemon. How’s it going with her?”

He paused, sitting back on the picnic chair and tucking an arm under his head as he shrugged. “It’s going.”

“Where?”

“Somewhere.”

Johnny and Gaz looked at eachother. “Whit ye mean?” Johnny raised a brow, “Stop bein’ so vague.”

“I think she likes someone else,” he mumbled, staring ahead across the lake with a blank, expressionless look, trying to sound like he wasn’t bothered.

The two looked at each other again, incredulous of what he claimed and unconvinced by his tone of voice. “Impossible,” Gaz quipped, “Have you seen her? The way she looks at you tells me she wants you to eat her whole or something.”

Johnny snorted at that and then backed Gaz up with his own observations. “Did ye ken I sent her tae help ye out with the wood? Ye should’ve seen her face. She flew aff.” It was a bit of an exaggeration, but Johnny needed to get his point across.

Simon turned to Johnny, raising a brow and shaking his head. “No way. You’re just saying.”

“No mate, I’m serious,” Johnny answered, now getting a little impatient as he stared at Simon, annoyed by his best friend’s obstinance. “Ye never dae this, Simon, but if ye want somethin’, ye gotta ask, ye ken?”

“Ask what?”

Johnny groaned loudly. “Ye fuckin’ doughnut, ask her if she likes ye.”

“You’re off your head,” Simon retorted, “I’m not so daft to take a risk that big.”

“Then ask her if she likes that bloke,” he reasoned, only to see Simon giving him the side-eye. Johnny, finally losing his patience, gave his friend a slap on the back of his head. “Just fuckin’ ask her. Don’t be such a pussy. Imagine the endless possibilities, Simon, imagine! If ye weren’t such a fuckin’ pussy.”

“Alright, fine!” Simon relented as he rubbed the back of his head, having enough of being called a pussy so many times for one day.

Johnny looked at Gaz and shook his head like a disappointed parent, making Gaz smile and shrug. The Scotsman turned back to Simon and gave him one long look, saying with a sigh, “I havnae seen ye like this before, mate. Yer usually fearless.”

Simon rubbed his cheek, particularly the scarred one. “No experience in this department,” he admitted.

“Hm,” Johnny exhaled, allowing his eye to linger on the long scar on his friend’s cheek, the reason for his inexperience.

When the last rays of the sun set behind the hills, the men ended their fishing, sadly returning with only a small handful in their bucket. Simon was sent to the tent to check on the ladies while Johnny and Gaz decided to head to the cabin to gut the fish and prepare a marinade so that they could grill them over the fire later.

“____? Lindsey?” called Simon as he entered the tent and moved towards the room they occupied. There was no answer.

He took hold of the zipper to open the entrance, but hesitated, not wanting to possibly catch them in a vulnerable position somehow. He cursed his upbringing, that he never had any sisters he could barge in on to annoy; unzipping this entrance would be a lot easier otherwise.

He called once again. No answer. He didn’t want to be called a pussy again, so he slowly unzipped the entrance a little and peered in.

In the dim darkness, he could vaguely see the two ladies fast asleep, cuddled like a litter of kittens. He shook his head, thinking to himself, “Women can do the gayest things and nobody bats an eyelid.” But that was the least of his concern at the moment, for when his eyes adjusted to the dimness, he noticed that ____ cuddled Little Simon to her chest.

Bigger Simon immediately zipped the entrance close and stood there in a daze, unable to stop himself from imagining replacing Little Simon, having the privilege of his arms around her waist, her arms around his neck, and his face nestled in her chest, no space between their bodies, cuddled and breathing each other in. His dirty little mind took it a step further and imagined him and her naked, but he caught himself and shook his head, feeling his cheeks start to burn.

“Get a hold of yourself, Simon,” he reminded himself, “You can’t think of her like that.”

He took out his phone and decided to wake the ladies up in the worst way possible: using the jarring sound of the alarm. They woke up immediately; as expected, Lindsey did not appreciate being woken up and mumbled some curses at Simon, while ____ was a little disoriented from the heavy sleep, even asking what year it was.

Before long, the five were soon seated on the wooden benches in front of the blazing fire pit under the now darkening sky, watching the fish grill over the open flames. Johnny and Gaz passed the time singing as he usually did, while Lindsey, though not a singer herself, tried to join.

Johnny eventually did not want to sit still, so he snatched Lindsey by the hand and coaxed her to dance with him.

“No!” she exclaimed with flaming cheeks as she saw the three others looking at her with teasing grins.

“C’mon Jolene, yer no’ dancin’ alone! Am here too!” He noticed that she was trying to pry her hand out of his grip, which made him hold on tighter.

“Have some fun for once, Linny!” encouraged ____, smiling widely.

“Ye heard her,” Johnny grinned and pulled Lindsey to her feet. “We’ll dae it ceilidh style!”

Before she said another word, he already wrapped an arm around her waist and started hopping around with her and twirling her around while singing ‘Highland Girl’. Though she had been and danced in enough ceilidhs before, she still scrambled to hold on to Johnny’s shoulder and manage to keep up with his quick pace and tempo of the song. Though she stumbled occasionally, he kept her from falling, and her constant slip ups didn’t keep him from losing his patience or energy.

“I didn’t know that I fell in love, in love with my Highland girl,” he sang, and he just had to gaze at her with those big blue eyes of his into her green ones. Time slowed for the both of them as he pulled her closer to himself and grinned out of sheer joy at the way her freckled cheeks flushed red both out of shyness and exertion, and at how the fire cast a warm glow over her face and her fiery red hair that swayed as they danced.

He felt his chest swell as he looked at her, really and genuinely feeling like he was falling in love with this Highland girl in front of him. Lindsey felt no less. Their friends watched on, cheering, teasing, and encouraging them to keep dancing, happy to see the two so close to each other.

____ watched fondly, her eyes softening at how Lindsey eventually smiled and laughed as she danced with Johnny. Simon, who was sitting close next to her, saw the warm look on her face and smiled to himself.

“So,” he began, now leaning close to her so he could whisper, “I asked Johnny.”

“Mmhm,” she nodded eagerly, smiling. Simon noted the twinkle in her eye and could already tell that she knew what the answer would be.

“He does like her,” he confirmed, watching her closely for her reaction.

Her face broke into a bigger smile and she turned to the dancing pair, a fonder and warmer look in her eyes. “I can see it,” she answered, voice light with relief.

Simon couldn’t help but stare at her smile and at how the fire brightened up her eyes. His own dark eyes softened and his shoulders relaxed slightly as he watched her.

By this time, Lindsey needed a break and Johnny let her have one, though he wanted to dance some more. He danced with Gaz next, who was happy to oblige.

As Simon and ____ watched them and laughed, he discreetly lifted his arm and put it on the back rest right behind her, though he was itching to put it around her shoulders and pull her closer to him. She noticed this, and instinctively moved closer to him. He gulped harshly, feeling his entire body go stiff.

Wanting to make some small talk, he asked, flashing a boyish smirk at her, “You sleep alright, darling?”

“Yeah, like a log until you came in with your wonderful alarm,” she nudged his side with her elbow, feigning annoyance.

He chuckled. “You're welcome.”

There was a pause and he saw her take out her phone. His attention was turned back to his dancing friends until it returned to the lady next to him when he heard her giggle. Wondering if she too was watching the dancing, turned to her to make a comment about it, but instead found her giggling at her phone. A quick glance told him that she was texting someone, and a slightly longer, nosier glance told him that it was Alejandro.

He drew in a sharp breath, clenching his fists slightly. His earlier anger shot up again, and he pulled his arm off the back rest, and crossed it over his chest, now deciding that watching the fish grill was more interesting. When she was done texting, he asked,

“How's Alejandro doing, by the way?” Not that he cared.

“He's alright. He was texting me just now. Said he didn't see me come out of my place this weekend to go out so I told him I was out camping.” she explained.

Simon's arms crossed tighter. “What a fucking stalker,” he thought.

“He said he wanted to join us next time.” she added.

Simon's brow furrowed. He regretted even asking about that man. “I see,” he said through his teeth, appalled by his audacity, especially when he wasn't a close friend of hers.

Now was his chance to ask her about what she thought of him, and he took it immediately. “I'm curious about one thing, darling,” began Simon. She looked at him attentively. “Do you… like him?”

She looked at him with surprise and then exclaimed, laughing, “No! Goodness, no, Simon. I don't.”

Simon couldn't hold back a sigh of relief. “You don't?” he asked, hiding his excitement, “I thought you did. He seems cool.”

She looked at him, an eyebrow raised. “You think he's cool? I thought you didn't like him. Especially after how nicely you greeted him when you first met him.”

He shook his head, chuckling. “I said I would be the “protective boyfriend”, so that's what I was doing.” He felt his face turn hot, a little afraid of how observant she was. “Either way,” he decided to steer the conversation in a slightly different direction, “I was thinking you liked him, and so I thought that if you did, I could stop pretending to be your boyfriend and get out of your way. And you wouldn’t have to come with me to my family reunion.” His face started turning hotter again as he felt like his words were coming out all jumbled up.

She chuckled again. “Oh, no. It's nothing like that. He's just a neighbour to me, just a friend.”

He smiled. “Alright then.” Simon exhaled slowly; he was tired of how volatile his feelings had been in the course of that single day, soaring high only to dive down deep and then to soar again.

The fish was soon grilled and everyone feasted on them. After that, the marshmallows came out, which they put on skewers and toasted over the fire.

Johnny announced, “We should play ‘Simon Says’!” which earned the chuckles of everyone except Simon.

“Not this again,” Simon rolled his eyes as he sandwiched the gooey marshmallow and a piece of chocolate between two biscuits to make a smore.

“Come oan!” Johnny coaxed, “Yer no fun!”

Simon relented, “Alright, alright,”

Johnny grinned and the others sat ready looking at Simon, ready for his orders.

Simon cleared his throat and said, “Simon says… stop playing Simon says.”

Everyone collectively groaned and protested, making Simon chuckle uncontrollably.

“Och, sod off, mate! I’ll make Gaz Simon,” Johnny declared, shaking his head at Simon, who was more than happy to oblige.

Gaz took the place of Simon and ordered everyone to do the most outrageous actions, even a whole dance routine that the ladies completely butchered, until everyone’s sides started to hurt from laughing too much. Johnny had to take over soon enough to end Gaz’s reign of “terror”, and everyone had their turn as well.

After a few more games and marshmallows eaten, Johnny decided he'd sing one last song before they'd extinguish the fire and head off to bed because he “wanted to sing ye all tae sleep”.

Over the silent air, the fire over the crackling wood danced with the gently blowing breeze whilst the chirp of insects filled the relaxing silence. The four, tired from playing and laughing, sat still, waiting to hear Johnny.

He began softly and sweetly to sing,

“Oh, my love said to me, “will you meet me by the sea?”

You can kiss me underneath the misty moon…”

He stole a cheeky glance at Lindsey, who frowned at him and shyly looked away. He continued, still looking at her,

“She is stunnin’, she is pretty, she's as warm as amber whisky,

And as bonny as a heather on the hill.”

____ smiled and giggled at his openly flirtatious display. She was so focused on them that she didn't see how Simon stared at her.

“When I was a young boy, my mother said to me,

“Find yourself a pretty lass, don't take her love for free”

From the fields of Aberfeldy to the shores of Loch Maree

I know that she's the only one for me.”

His arm went over the backrest of the bench again, right behind her, and when she leaned against him just a tad, he felt the irresistible urge to put his arm around her shoulders and hug her, this stunning, pretty woman, who was warm as amber whisky and more bonny than a thousand heathers on a thousand hills.

The singing made everyone slouch in their seats out of relaxation, and Simon sat back with a sigh, letting his itchy arm lightly graze against her shoulder. The lady next to him was highly aware of his closeness, and again, she thought of the moment at the arcade. She looked up at him, only to find him staring right at her with his lips slightly parted. She met his eye, feeling a flutter tickle her stomach.

“Simon?” she called softly, lightly tapping his thigh.

He blinked, realising he was staring. “Yeah?” he asked, turning his head away slightly, embarrassed to have been caught.

“You’re staring,” she teased, echoing his own remark to her when they went out before.

He chuckled. “Sorry darling, I was just…” he met her eye, “thinking of something,” he said, giving her a fond smile.

“Was it me?” she wondered, but instead smiled.

They listened to the rest of Johnny’s song, and by the time he ended, nearly everyone was sleepy and yawning. Johnny thanked his audience for listening to his constant singing, pretending to be a famous singer ending a concert, even exaggeratedly bowing to them and earning chuckles and soft applause from his friends. They extinguished the fire and took their plates back to the cabin to wash and gathered their snacks to seal and keep them away.

Just as they gathered in the tent to retire for the night, Johnny announced, “Remember lads, we’re hiking tae see the sunrise tomorrow, so ye all better be ready! We ride at the asscrack of dawn!”

“Alright, that’s enough screaming now. Let’s sleep.” Gaz caught Johnny in a chokehold and pulled him into one of the two rooms in the tent.

“Make sure tae kiss the homies good night!” Johnny called out laughingly from the room. He even blew a good night kiss to Lindsey, but she just rolled her eyes and went inside the other room in the tent, huffing and blushing.

The men and ladies exchanged their good-nights and tucked into their sleeping bags. From all the noise in the other room, the ladies could tell that Johnny still hadn’t settled down. Eventually, Simon and Gaz had to scold him, and he soon quieted, making the ladies in the other room giggle to themselves.

Lindsey didn’t take too long to fall asleep, but ____ was wide awake thanks to her very heavy afternoon nap. It was past eleven-thirty when she took out her phone to work on the novel and jot down chapter outlines and her notes and observations of Simon, which would eventually be twisted and bent into a shape fitting for Frederick. Sleep still didn’t come to her, even much past midnight.

Tired of staring at her phone in the darkness, she closed her aching, strained eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. Sleep would not come anytime soon so, “I suppose a walk would help,” she figured.

Tucking Little Simon under her arm, she carefully slipped past her sleeping best friend and out of the tent without a sound and walked over the damp grass towards the lake and stood at the dock, watching the water ripple under the moonlight and the faraway hills bathed in it. Basked in the gentle light, she looked up at the distant stars, twinkling without a care, and inhaled the cool air of the night. She walked by the pebbled banks for a while, enjoying their soft clatter as she stepped over them, until a soft breeze brought in the clouds, making a light rain descend.

Not yet wanting to go back to the tent, she made her way to the cabin to sit on the porch to watch the world and the rain go by. In the dim darkness, she saw a large shadow sitting on the wooden bench.

“Hey, you can’t sleep either?” asked the familiar rough, gravelly voice of the shadow.

“Simon?”

End of Part 10.

Part 11

Simon lore in the next chapter! Leave a comment if you want to be tagged for the next part :) Thank you for reading <3

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