#i forgot to get flour when i was grocery shopping and now i have to go see if any of the papi stores have any

[headlamprey]

Anyone on Tumblr at 10 in the morning on a Saturday and wanna send me weird questions?

Yeah I am procrastinating so what

[perlapulido]

Til We Meet Again

Summary: Hi. I'm Nicole or Nicky Rivers-Pines. You may have heard the Name Pines before from my Uncle who can be a bit of trouble maker like me but I honestly don't know much of how to explain my life after meeting him. But in this story will be all sorted out including the psycho that started it all.

Ch9

"Okay Dippers guide number 56. Nicky. Since we came here we found out our cousin has telekinesis while saving us from a gnome army trying to marry Mabel. We are gonna test her on what other powers she has." said Dipper holding a camera pointing to himself. He turned the camera to Nicky's secret bedroom door slowly opening it hearing a show going on putting the camera in first showing Nicky on her bed watching a show with a blonde singing a cheery happy about a every demon is a rainbow from what he caught listening with a bunch of demons around her. Nicky quickly turned her head to Dipper shutting the door behind him before he could run getting off her bed. "What are you doing?" said Nicky. "nothing just found this camera and . . . thought i test it out." said Dipper turning the camera on himself but forgot about the screen showing the timestamp to Nicky. "Let me see that." said Nicky taking the camera but Dipper held on to it. "Its really nothing i swear!" said Dipper as they were playing tug o war. He yelled in surprised finding himself levitating in the air looking annoyed and done once Nicky got hold of the camera seeing how it was running. "Oh two minutes. lets see how much you got? Not enough. huh? I can change that." said Nicky smiling deviously. She turned the camera facing her empty bed shutting the laptop with Dipper asking what she was gonna do. "What are you doing? Ah! wait im sorry!" said Dipper. The camera then turned back onto Dipper with his switched and shoes. his shirt and vest were now his pants and his pants are his torso like a shirt with his socks and shoes on his hands. "Wanna video me again?" said Nicky. "Never making that mistake again." said Dipper taking the camera weirdly with his hands walking away. "Whoa, Looks like Nicky gave you the upper hand." said Stan. "And i got plenty more where that came from." said Nicky going back to her show. She laughed at her new show when her stomach started rumbling shutting her laptop off going to the kitchen finding Stan getting coffee. "So what did he do?" said Stan. "Tried to film me using my telekinesis. You?" said Nicky opening the fridge. "Burn mark that looks like a tattoo." said Stan. He sat on his chair of the table reading the newspaper not seeing Dipper sneaking in with a camera, but Nicky did without looking.

She threw a towel at his face at the same time he snapped a picture of Stan looking over his shoulder at Dipper and ran upstairs. 'Just like dad huh?" said Nicky. "Yep. Whats for dinner?" said Stan. "Chicken with gravy mash potatoes?" said Nicky putting the towel back where it was. She then grabbed thirty bucks from him on her way to the jeep seeing Wendy napping on the passenger seat. "Wanna go grocery shopping with me?" said Nicky getting. "Sure. My brother destroyed the house again, so they are rebuilding it right now." said Wendy opening her eyes. "Simple yes or no would be nice." said Nicky. "Shut up and dibs on the radio." said Wendy. "Whatever." said Nicky driving to the store. She parked her jeep in the front going in with Wendy taking a basket walking up and down the aisle talking about anything and laughing. They got what they came here for mostly Nicky getting in line while Wendy went to the restroom. "Hello Nicole." said Gideon behind her. "Not in the mood." said Nicky. "I'm talking to my honey dumplin. You alone?" said Gideon then was moved into a different aisle running to some flour that was in display. Nicky put the stuff on the counter watching the cashier scanning her stuff then felt someone hug her from behind seeing a familiar blonde and black hair on her right. She rammed her elbow into Billie's gut knocking him loose then sprayed her breath mint into his eyes. "You know him?" said the cashier watching him scream and drop to the floor. "Nope." said Nicky grabbing the bags on her way out after paying and getting her change. "Wha did i miss?" said Wendy seeing Billie getting up from the floor rubbing his eyes making Nicky grab Wnedy hand taking her to jeep in a sprint. "Did you have something to do with that guy?" said Wendy getting. "Hes the creep that broke into my room." said Nicky. "Oh." said Wendy as Billie jumped in front of the windshield. "Fuck off, Emo Ken!" Nicky shouted flooring the jeep with Billie holding on. She swerved the jeep side to side but Billie still held on laughing until the slam the breaks finally got him off sending him into a bush of poison oak and rove to the shack. "Okay that was insane." said Wnedy getting out. "NO kidding. I dont know what s up with guy." said Nicky walking inside. She began to sweat immediately seeing Soos posing without a shirt on the counter with Stan walking away something about blinding himself. "What is going and why does felt like an oven in here?" said Nicky wiping the sweat off her forehead. "Who changed the temperature?" said Wendy lowering the numbers before she left to answer phone. "We are trying to see Mr. Pines tattoo." said Soos then playing and sang with his gut. 

"Good luck with that." said Nicky going to the kitchen. She put away the stuff hearing Mabel coming in with jellybeans and another camera having Nicky stop to look at her confused. "What are doing with those?" said Nicky. "I'm going to see how many Jellybeans i can shove up my nose. Wanna watch?" said Mabel. "No." said Nicky taking out the raw chicken to cook. She then heard Dipper yell for a moment ignoring it until he came in with 'Goober' written across his forehead under his Big Dipper birthmark. "Youre one step closer to death." said Nicky. "IM not giving up unless you can tell us." said Dipper smiling at her. "Let me think . . ." Nicky then looked at him blowing a raspberry going back on the potatoes she got on discount. "Hahaha. Goober." said Mabel. Nicky then took a picture of Dipper with her phone and sent it. "Who did you send it to?" said Dipper getting a kissy face from Nicky making him blush. "You love torturing me. Dont you?" he says narrowing his eyes. "You are doing this all on your own." said Nicky. She continued working on dinner when the sound of the shower running gave Dipper an idea which Nicky knows its a set up. "Mabel get the table ready before Dad kills Dipper." said Nicky turning off the stove. "On it." said Mabel grabbing the plates with Nicky grabbing the cups catching Dipper running away from angry Stan. "Want the chicken wing or the thigh?!" Nicky shouted. "What do you think? I'm gonna find you kid!" said Stan. "I say four and half hours will do. Get the marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers." said Nicky. "SMORES!" Mabel yelled running into Nicky's room.  "Dont open any of that. im making it into a dip." said Nicky. "NO PROMISES!" said Mabel. Nicky served the plates and took Dipper's plate up to the roof sliding it through the panel with a water bottle. "I'll knock twice once Dads out cold." said Nicky. "I heard that." said Stan. "And for that you are getting a booth for that carnival next week." said Stan. "You owe me Michael!" said Nicky going to the kitchen to make the smore dip.

[stick-ball]

I was asked to write some of my sad headcanons on Jean and Kevin's relationship by @thelittlelostgraycat so here we go:

The first thing that comes to mind when I think about this dynamic is this really silly scenario. Doing grocery shopping, you have this great idea. You're going to make crepes for breakfast the next day. It's the weekend after a really long week, and you're feeling like having something nice, you know. So you stock up on all the ingredients. But then when it comes to it you stayed up late that night, binging your currently favourite series, and you get up later than usual and you're not really in the mood to stand in front of the pan for half an hour before you get to eat something. So, dismayed or not, you kill off the hunger with something quick and easy and get on with the day's plans. Then the next week comes and since you work long hours obviously you don't have the time for it either. By the time you remember, you really wanted to eat pancakes some time has passed. But you're excited again because that's what we are like with the things we love. The joy is always there even when we aren't doing those things. So you go take the pan out, the flour and bowl. You open the fridge and see you only have one egg left. That's a problem. You forgot to stock up, but well. It's still possible to make pancakes with one egg. You'll just have thinner batter. Then you get lit the milk and here's the problem, it expired. The dismay is pretty monumental for such a small tragedy. You taste it, just to make sure, and yeah, it's terrible you feel like retching. And the thing is, you could still make the pancakes. You could run to the store, but it was never really about being hungry. It was about the sentiment, and now you remember how if you made them in the first place, this wouldn't happen, and you wasted a whole carton of milk on a fancy you couldn't even commit to.

And that's how I see Kevin and Jean. It's love and it's sentiment and it's something really deep. But when push comes to shove it's always too little, too late. Too little words said, an apology wasted on a cold argument. Too much hassle, too much risk, too much grief if it goes wrong. Let's leave things as they are. It's not good but it'd stable. Too little time, between Riko and training and the dreams of freedom and illusions of grandour and the pain, all that pain and gore. It all ends up coming first.

But there's love, and I don't necessarily mean it as romantic love, although it could be. There's love, there's a whole language built around it. It's words of affirmation in a language no one else can understand. It's small tokens of care, small enough not to be put to an end by someone else, but meaningful enough to make the heart soar like they can touch the blue sky above the tomb they grew up in. It's stolen moments of peace, because both their hearts are for once free of worry when it's just the two of them together - noone there to harm them, noone to make them watch as the other suffers. It's time spent practising, not because they aren't good enough, but because when it's them they can freely love the sport they play. It's a shoulder to lean on and a body that keeps you warm, and that will never take more what you offer it.

But it's always too little and too late to grow into something defined. It's a safe chrysalis that makes the caterpillar endure, but there's no surety, no promises. As much as the chrysalis helps, the caterpillar transform, thr butterfly has to break out of it to fly. So no, it's not enough to last.

They care deeply for each other, but Kevin leaves Jean in the Nest. And Jean could hate him, could resent him, but he doesn't - because he understands when you have a chance you need to take it because life is cruel and it doesn't smile at you twice. He understands that he would probably do the same. It still hurts.

I think Kevin doesn't have many regrets bigger than leaving Jean behind. He still does it, though. But if he didn't, the story wouldn't happen. If he didn't, the whole chain reaction would not be set in motion, so he can't fix it, but he can be better from there on. He starts by getting Jean to a place as far from the Nest as humanly possible. In the hands of the person he holds in the highest esteem.

And that's fear, but that's also love.

Jean's new Jersey number is a 29 for both Kevin and Renee. So I think he understands, I think he doesn't hold a grudge. He starts to pick up his phone and sometimes even calls him himself, even if to trashtalk the team he knows Kevin is also watching play back in his dorm in Palmetto right now.

So they couldn't commit to it then, when there was nothing to lean on. But would it really be too little too late?

[dnightshade0]

Voltron: tortillas

If you like this, leave a comment and/or send feedback.

Lance’s mom comes to visit Lance and Elena. They just return home from grocery shopping. Lance brings in the grocery bags, Lance’s mom is putting them away and Elena starts washing the vegetables. She’s in the middle of rinsing a tomato when she comes to a startling realization.

Elena: OH NO!

Lance: what’s wrong babe?!

Elena: I FORGOT TO BUY THE TORTILLAS! 😫

Lance: ok so we don’t have tortillas, it’s not a big deal.

Elena: it is a big deal! lance we can’t have taco Tuesday without tortillas!

Lance tries to calm her down from her ensuing panic attack when mama McClain comes to the rescue.

Mom: sweetie, why don’t you just make your own tortillas?

Elena: I don’t know how to make tortillas! 😫

Mama mcclain then places a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Mama: sweetie, I will teach you.

So mama McClain goes to teach both Elena and Lance how to make tortillas. Though while kneading the dough, Elena accidentally gets flour on her face and she sneezes. This makes Lance laugh and elena glares at him.

Elena: oh you think that’s funny huh? Well how do you like this?

She takes some flour and throws it in lances face. Lance blinks, then sneezes, making Elena laugh.

Lance: oh it is on!

Lance and Elena end up getting into a flour fight, both now covered in flour. All the while, mama McClain just stands there rubbing her temple.

Mama: dios mios, these two aren’t a married couple, they’re a pair of siblings! Dios, dame fuerzas! (god give me strength!)

(A while later)

Mama McClain: you two do realize that now we will have to go to the grocery store now anyway, WE ARE OUT OF FLOUR!… AND THE KITCHEN IS A MESS!

This piece is based off something that happened to me.

I had gone grocery shopping, brought the groceries in and began washing my vegetables when I suddenly realized that even though I bought all the taco fixings, I had forgotten to buy the tortillas.

I had told my mom and aunt this and my aunt suggested I try making my own tortillas. I replied that I didn’t know how to make tortillas. And she taught me how to make um.

[thessalian]

Thess vs The Longest Week

So, more work updates.

Scruffman hadn't put a Teams meeting in the diary like he said he was going to, so I dropped him an email to ask. He said he'd "give a bell" on Tuesday instead so he'd have a better idea of the shape of the rest of the week. I pray he decides that I don't need to actually go in. This week has been bad enough, and it's not technically over yet.

This week has seen me doing nearly ten hours total overtime over four days, and looks like I'll be putting in some work on Saturday too. Thing is, even with Scruffman in, not a whole lot of typing was getting done by anyone but me. Add to that a whole bunch of long complicated bullshit, not to mention a couple of them who fucked up their dictations beyond all recognition and obliged me to drop them an email going, "You forgot the block key, I couldn't hear this word because you were sitting several feet away from your microphone, you took your foot off the footpedal at an inopportune moment and cut out a whole bunch of measurements, please tell me this was meant to be 5mm or 0.5cm and not 0.5mm because you don't do slices that thin in these things..." and on and on and on... Also the ones who miss things and wind up having to go back to the macro three or four times in the middle of the block key without giving any indication of where in the macro report the new stuff has to go, and the ones whose sentence structure is abominable even when English is their first language (for those who don't have English as their first language, I tend to cut them some slack). In short, I'm having to clean up an awful lot of messes while still trying to do the job of multiple typists.

Part of the problem at this point is that we have so many more junior doctors, and everyone - junior doctors included - are in a massive hurry, and so they kind of foul things up. And of course, we're understaffed. When we had fewer doctors doing dictation and two extra people in, we were just a little bit overstaffed, and that was comfortable because if a lot of unexpected absences happened, we could still carry on well enough. But we had two people leave last year - one having moved on to greener pastures, one just having walked right out - and more doctors, so now we're massively understaffed and can barely keep our heads above water when we have everyone working, never mind when we have so many unexpected absences. Head Honcho really has got to get us a replacement for Sunshine at minimum, but it's been ages and it hasn't happened so I doubt it will.

Anyway, so that's why I've pulled a total of nearly ten hours of overtime this week, and why I'll be doing some work on Saturday as well. Because people come in and report on weekends on top of everything else, and there seems to be literally no one else to type things but me. I am so exhausted I can't even begin to tell you, but despite that, I haven't slept properly for most of the week, given pain and stress. Even my breaks were generally to get essentials done - trip to the corner shop, ordering the monthly grocery shop, stuffing something resembling dinner into my face, bath to hopefully soak out some of the aches, stuff like that.

I guess there's some good news, though. Today was payday, and there were things that required ordering. Like, for instance, a kitchen scale for those annoying times when recipe ingredients lists go by weight. And some cake tins. And some gluten-free self-raising flour that has good reviews and doesn't require me to know how much xanthan gum to put in the damn thing. I mean, bread is definitely on the list of things I want to make, but I also intend to make the absolute most out of Baking Yesteryear. So tomorrow, in between having to go out for a couple of errands and the never-ending overtime, I intend to make Admiral's Gingerbread. I will very much deserve a treat after this clusterfuck.

[livebloggingmydescentintomadness]

Heyo momdad! I have a friend who mentioned to me they were thinking about starting grocery shopping only once a month, only they weren't sure how to approach it, and I feel like I remember you making a post about something similar... Do you happen to know the post I'm talking about?? Tyvm

hi dear! i can't remember a specific post, i'm afraid, but i did personally switch from weekly to monthly grocery shopping at the start of the pandemic to limit my exposure, and since then i've actually expanded it to more like once every six weeks or so. i can talk a bit about how and why that works for me.

the biggest issue is that i shop for both my mom and myself, and we're both chronically ill and both have some dietary issues that mean i need to do a portion of our shopping at whole foods. the nearest one is about 45 minutes away, so it makes the most sense for me to a do a big shopping day where i hit three stores (a texas chain called h-e-b, whole foods, and trader joe's) so i only have one major expenditure of energy and gas.

i hit three stores because a) they don't all have the same items, and b) h-e-b and trader joe's have a lot of stuff for way cheaper than whole foods. i have a generally shitty memory, but i'm actually very good at remembering what things cost at the different stores.

i'm not great at meal planning, but i know the general things that i want to keep in stock (admittedly, this only works because we have two fridges and an upright freezer) and i do extensive pre-shopping planning.

i have a list in my phone of what i frequently buy at each store, and i'll add to it when i need something infrequently bought and temporarily strike out what i don't need this trip. keeping a master list helps me not forget things. i also try to have the list written in the order at which i walk through the store, so i don't get to the last aisle and find an item i needed from the other side of the store.

before i go out, i check the h-e-b and whole foods apps, because h-e-b has coupons and whole foods has sales. i mark down in the list what's on sale/has a coupon, and plan around those savings if i can. (trader joe's doesn't have an app, sales, or coupons, but their prices are always low.) i also have a pre-shopping conference with my mom so everything she needs is included in my list.

when i depart, i bring as many coolers and ice packs as can fit in the car (really important, since we live in texas). it's still often difficult to keep everything cold, and i've had the very frustrating experience of buying meat, not realizing which bag it's in, and arriving home hours later to find the meat warm. for that reason i group my cold stuff together on the checkout belt and help bag to try and keep cold things together. i'll stick produce from the beginning of the trip in a cooler, then take it out towards the end of the trip if i need that space.

it takes hours, and by the time i get home and unload everything i am fucking wiped, but in the end it just makes more sense than doing it more frequently. we've gotten used to it and it works.

in between the Big Shopping Trip, we supplement with a few things on amazon subscribe and save, usually one smallish h-e-b curbside pickup for fresh produce and anything i forgot/they didn't have last time, and i also do a pickup from a co-op called azure standard every 2-4 months or so.

azure is super helpful if you try to buy organic, have special dietary needs, or just cook/bake enough that buying 25lbs of dry beans or 50lbs of flour would be useful for you. i can get things like oats, sugar, cheese, and apples for enough of a savings that it's worth the 9% transport fee and driving out to the drop-off site now and then. it's also nice to support a smallish business and smallish farms.

NOW, having said all that, doing all this obviously consumes a great deal of my brain capacity, so shopping like this certainly isn't possible or beneficial for everyone. i happen to have an aptitude for grocery shopping and cooking, so this is the majority of what i bring to the table in terms of, you know, keeping us alive and not as ill as we would be if we had shittier diets.

i wrote this all out in case some of its useful to someone, but hey, whatever works for you is what works for you. endure and survive. ✌

also i have a shopping tag with some more advice.

ETA: also in terms of like, how to not let things go bad: i shop with the intention to either eat things that quickly spoil in the week following the trip or else freeze them soon after getting home (meat, some veg), and leave things that will last longer for after the first week (sturdier veg, fruit like apples and citrus, yogurt, eggs).

milk freezes pretty well, but i've also found it more useful to, for example, use powdered buttermilk in my baking instead of worrying about having enough milk/not using it before it spoils. i also have some quarts of shelf-stable nondairy milk on hand.

it's a big learning curve to figure out what spoils too quickly, what lasts a long time, and what work-arounds you can find, but if you get creative it can work really well.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

LO$ER=?, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Life is just a path and you walk it. Until Jeon Jungkook. He made you run, sprinting through winding side roads and alleys, fighting, bleeding, losing. Your paths split, but life is made of orbits. Now that they have overlapped once more, his hand is fiercely holding yours and he won't let go again. Nothing matters if he's with you. Thus, you run once more, laughing like you've gone mad.

continuation of 0X1=?, m | jjk – click here to read

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of sexual assault (not heavily described, however, please note reader is the victim of said assault); actually predominantly fluff; mentions of previous angst; mentions of physical fighting; smut (fem reader, fingering, cowgirl, scratching / marking, penetrative sex); non-idol!BTS - tattooed, previously rich!Jungkook x rebellious!reader (mostly reader's POV, a tiny bit of JK's POV), ft cameo of Kim Taehyung as JK’s best friend and crossover with 'bao, t/m | myg' au

yes, I waited until the TXT's 'LO$ER=LO♡ER' was released to write this XD there's a ton of TXT references as well, enjoy!

--

now playing – LO$ER=LO♡ER by txt

"Jeon Jungkook! Yah! Jeon Jungkook! Come out of that whore's home!"

You were about to remove the groceries from your front seat, but then you stopped at the shouting, peering up at the second story of the apartment complex to see… ah, yes, a young woman yelling at your front doorstep. One look at the imported, Western, black car with heavily tinted windows and you were well aware that the woman in a matching designer two-piece – a ruffled pink suit jacket and flared skirt – complete with immaculately pulled back hair in a half-ponytail must be...

She turned around, fuming, pretty features twisted in rage, and screamed in frustration.

You quickly jerked your head back out of her line of sight and clicked your tongue.

Your boyfriend's ex-fiancé had some lungs on her.

You waited until she finished shrieking like a banshee and peered out to see her spin on her heel and return to pounding on your apartment door with her small, manicured fists. You spotted her beige, black cap-toed slender heels.

Chanel.

Huh.

You stayed in your car.

Reached over to your bag and pulled out the single ice cream you bought to share with Jungkook but, at this rate, you would have to buy another. You pulled off the cap and folded it in half, curving it like a spoon, and began to eat the mango sorbet. Hm, well, it was better this way. Jungkook would probably prefer chocolate or straight up diabetes over mango sorbet.

He would eat pretty much anything though.

You scooped up some of the frigid, melting sweet into your mouth and watched his ex-fiancé shout at no one.

True, you could go up there and throw her down the stairs. But there was something hilarious about this, her beating and howling at your apartment door, completely ignoring the fact that no one was answering it and that she was very clearly causing a public disturbance, all because of her own personal problem.

You glanced up to watch her slide down the door, openly crying now. You pressed the button of your car window to roll it down a crack to listen to her sobbing above you.

"–can't believe you would do this to me... you know I need this marriage... my family's company depends on it..."

You slowed, licking off your makeshift spoon.

"I'll be left with nothing... nothing unless I get married..."

Crocodile tears or not, the woes of the rich did not earn much sympathy with you.

You rolled your window back up, leaving your car on idle for the air conditioning.

It was a mix of previously being constantly berated by Jungkook's wealthy parents that now exiled him over a fucking eyebrow piercing and being a member of the working, lower middle class. For some reason, that latter fact was also offensive to Jungkook’s parents. Everyone was accepting until money got involved. You hummed, eating another scoop. You didn’t like it, but you understood that his parents wouldn’t believe that you have no interest in their money. What you didn't understand was why his ex-fiancé was so hellbent on yelling at your door. From what you could tell, she wasn't ugly. Couldn't she find someone else?

You scraped the last of your small ice cream out and ate it up.

You checked your phone.

Jungkook wouldn't be out of work for at least another three hours. You had found him a job at the local bao shop through your own job as an accountant. You assisted the family in sorting the finances for their small business and personal tax forms. The owner had back surgery and so the daughter had been working there by herself with one other employee that delivered the orders. They wanted to hire another to help with cooking and cleaning, perhaps even open up the front counter again to accept pick-up orders instead of only delivery. However, it was hard to find someone trustworthy and reliable. The best way was through word of mouth.

They won't mind my tattoos?

Whenever I drop by, the delivery guy is wearing a leather jacket, ripped jeans, and has a resting bitch face. You'll be fine. Also, I think the daughter and him are dating.

Jungkook had blinked at you.

You know. In case they disappear for ten minutes, unexplained.

You loved Jungkook's laugh.

He didn't complain or whine for some other job. He only asked when he started and how to get there. You bought him a secondhand bicycle and he was off to work, five to six days a week. Sometimes you would drop him off with your car if was too rainy. Occasionally, when he had to stay late for a large order, the delivery guy would drive Jungkook and his bike back home.

That's how it was here, in the world of everyone else, minus the rich.

The fuck is all this?

Manager gave me a bunch of leftovers. She said I'm a fast learner. Did you know Taehyung stops by there? He's never said shit! He said it was his little secret, that ass–

You smiled as you remembered Jungkook's animated face and annoyance at his best friend for not sharing what he thought was crucial information. Jungkook would speak excitedly, hauling a bag of buns and spilling them over your clean kitchen counter, scrambling to catch them as he explained the different ones to you and how they were made, telling you all the things he was learning and funny stories about customers.

You almost forgot this Jungkook.

It was strange, feeling something after such a long time of feeling nothing, strange to find your time occupied once again by him, when at many times you vowed not to get involved with Jungkook anymore, only for him to show up and make you throw your promises to yourself to the wind, recklessly chasing the anger, wondering, hating, loathing how much you still loved him after he left, recalling him standing there, stone silent as his parents' verbal lashes ripped you to shreds.

You turned the car off, pulling the keys out and pocketing them, not wanting to the drain the battery.

Maybe.

Maybe you were stupid for loving him so much.

Maybe you were as pathetic as the woman up there in some ways.

Then again.

Maybe that was just how everyone lived.

You heard a soft tap by your car window.

You jerked your head to see Jeon Jungkook, in the flesh, peering at you through the glass, clutching his bike. You could see half of his head, short black hair and large, curious brown eyes, nose pressed up to the bottom of your car window. He was wearing his work clothes, light wash jeans and an aqua blue t-shirt, lightly dusted in flour. He pointed up and you noticed his ex-fiancé had switched back to yelling at the door, no longer facing the street.

You shooed him back and opened the car door, eyes wide.

"Why are you home?" you whispered, crouching down to speak to him.

He grabbed your hand, gasping as he gripped it. You shivered at the coldness of his fingers, but there was a warmth in between your and his frozen palms, melting each other.

"Oh, shit, your hand is so cold!"

"So is yours!"

"I was biking! My hands get cold from the wind. What's your excuse?"

You held up the empty mango sorbet container in your other hand, shifting your eyes guiltily.

"And you didn't share?!" Jungkook hissed, his windswept hair giving him a fierce appearance, dismay clear in his glistening dark brown orbs despite trying to sound angry.

You spied his other hand on his bike. There was a large, wrapped bandage on his left forearm. You ticked your chin towards it, furrowing your brows. "What happened?"

"Ack, I burned myself and manager-nim told me to go home early. I told her I could still work, but there were only a few hours left and it seemed like she wanted to be alone with Yoongi-hyung..."

You raised your eyebrows.

"What are they gonna do, bonk in the kitchen?"

"You wouldn't want to bonk me in the kitchen?"

You grinned at him and Jungkook grinned back, eyebrow piercing flashing in the sun.

"JEON JUNGKOOK!"

"Oh shit–"

You scrambled out of your car, locking it, slamming the door as the young woman wailed his name and pointed at you and him, furiously wiping her tears.

"You bitch! How dare you take him from me! He was mine! I had him wrapped around my finger!" She hiked up her skirt and swiftly power-walked to the stairs, looking back to yell more at you as Jungkook placed his bicycle down. "He would do anything for me!"

You raised your eyebrows, again.

Jungkook yanked on your t-shirt sleeve, ushering you to get on the bike with him.

"Doesn't seem like it!" you called back casually, chucking your trash at her, causing the empty ice cream container to smack her in the shoulder and roll across the sidewalk.

"You–"

You cackled and got on the bike, hooking your arms around Jungkook's shoulders and adjusting your feet as she stomped up to you two, conventionally attractive features contorted in rage.

"He was my dog!"

Your eye twitched.

"You were gonna marry a freak who was into bestiality? No wonder you left," you remarked, patting him on the chest as Jungkook burst out laughing, loud and rich, shaking his head.

"You can't do this to me, Jungkook! You can't leave me with that other guy!"

You felt it.

Pause.

You felt Jungkook stiffen under your hands and you turned yourself, hearing the helpless plea in her voice now, throwing herself to the ground, designer knees in common dirt, anguish on her face, tears streaming down her made-up cheeks, sniffling hard, and, with your breath lodged in your throat, you realized she was restraining her pained sobs, so trained in maintaining appearances that it seemed like she couldn’t even cry properly in front of others.

"You can't... you know how they are... I can't marry him, you saw what kind of man he is... that's the whole reason I tried to find another husband..."

There was no more anger in her voice, only fear and dread, and you didn't understand, and yet you could for some reason, for some reason you could see it as if it was tangible, the realness in her enigmatic words. Jungkook's hands tightened on the handlebars of the bicycle, his knuckles turning white, tense shoulders under your arms, and for a second, a moment, an instant...

You thought he might go back.

"You should run."

The crying woman on the ground lifted her head, hiccupping, cheeks blotchy pink, still somehow beautiful.

"W-What?"

Jungkook turned his head and looked down at her. "You should run away, like I did. Find someone who actually loves you. Getting married to me will only make both of us miserable, even if it saves you from that other guy."

She looked from you to him, and you recognized that look in her eyes, jealousy and envy, but not directed at you. It was directed at the warmth between the coldness of his hands and yours, directed at the orbits of his and yours finally overlapping, meeting in the vastness of space once more, his zero and your zero becoming one, not you, but his ability to throw everything away, his wealth, his comfort, the world he knew, all for a feeling she had yet to feel.

"What... what if I can't?" she asked weakly. "What if I can't find what you have?"

Jungkook lifted his foot off the asphalt and placed it on the pedal. He raised his head, and you found his eyes on yours for a brief moment before casting them back down to his ex-fiancé.

"Then keep running. It's better than being married to him, right?"

He began to turn the handles, about to pedal away.

She screamed after him, words choked with agony.

"Love won't solve our problems, Jungkook!"

You held on tight, chest to his back, fingers clutching in Jungkook's shirt, nose in his hair, his warmth under your cold hands.

"It won't!" he yelled over his shoulder, gaining speed with a grin. "But it sure as hell makes the problems worth shouldering!"

-

“Hey! Get back here!”

You snickered and chucked the plastic bag into the basket connected to the bicycle, jumping on quickly, pedaling away as Jungkook ran after you at top speed, breathless and laughing, his black hair flying back, aqua shirt molding to his muscular chest, long legs sprinting after you and the bike, your grinning face looking back periodically to catch his smile, going not too fast, but still fast enough so he couldn’t quite catch up. Golden hour brought out the tan on his skin and his high cheekbones, both of you tearing out of the gas station at high speed, drawing stares and shaking heads, but neither of you noticed or cared, his booming voice calling your name and you sticking your tongue out at him childishly.

“Watch out!”

You jerked aside and sped past a group of five young men with skateboards, two with shorter black hair, one with long black hair and white highlights, one with ash gray hair, and one platinum blond, all very tall, but you didn’t have time to stop and stare at the impressive height of them, turning into a side alley towards to the creek nearby, avoiding pedestrians, Jungkook following close behind until you got to your destination, grabbing the plastic bag in the basket and throwing the bike down, cackling as Jungkook snatched you from the air, his heart racing against your back as you kicked the air, him still somehow effortlessly carrying you despite sprinting so hard, panting into your hair.

“Get off!”

But instead of letting you go, Jungkook held on tighter, fierce kisses into your neck, wiping his sweat all over you and making you cringe amidst your laughter. It was already late, the sun dipping into the horizon, slowly taking its warmth with it. Water trickled meekly down the creek, barely coating the rock bottom due to the hot summer.

“Stop, stop, the ice cream is melting,” you finally gasped out, shoving Jungkook aside, wiping your neck with the back of your hand, pretending to be disgusted, but Jungkook just grinned and seized your cheeks, pressing his lips against yours.

“I love you,” he breathed.

“Ack, I love you too, fuck, get off–”

-

You two sat on the swings of the empty playground, watching the sun disappear, eating ice cream with the lids of the containers. As predicted, Jungkook got the chocolate that seemed to have everything in it but the kitchen sink. You, on the other hand, got red bean this time.

“Hey, Jungkook.”

“Hm?”

He looked up from his ice cream, shoving a large lidful into his mouth.

It was strange how beautiful he looked, even with his black hair sticking up every which way, his cheeks filled with the frozen sweet, the faint rays of sunlight catching the silver of his jewelry – eyebrow piercing, earrings, silver chain around his neck with the compass star pendant – all paired with his oversized aqua blue t-shirt and baggy jeans, still with bits of flour on his thighs from work.

“What did that man do to her?”

A darkness clouded his features even though he tried to hide it from you with a neutral expression.

“Ah… He just… Just wasn’t really the kind of guy who thought of women as people,” Jungkook finally got out, looking away from you. “You know, the kind of guy you really hate.”

“That’s you,” you joked.

“I know I can’t do anything,” Jungkook continued, ignoring your quip and you suddenly regretted it, seeing the way he lowered his hands, exhaling slowly. “I am not responsible for anyone else’s behavior but my own.”

Come crawling back to me on your knees when she reaffirms to you that I'll be the best fuck you'll ever have.

She'll never make you feel as good as I can make you feel.

Enjoy your piranha.

“I’m sorry.”

Jungkook looked up at your sudden declaration.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, coughing awkwardly. “I’m sorry for saying the things I said about her.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “Don’t be. Just because she was in a shit situation doesn’t excuse her for being a shit person.” He shoved the lid into the empty ice cream container and rubbed the back of his neck, pushing his hair back with a sigh. “Just like how it doesn’t excuse me from being a shit person for what I did to you.”

His eyes shifted away.

“You don’t have to–”

“Yeah, I do,” he muttered, cutting you off. “I’m a fucking loser.”

The streetlights began to turn on, but no one was in a place like this, two adults in a place for kids, stuck wondering what adulthood was supposed to feel like because it still felt like an endless cycle of forever learning and forever running, wandering to find out what the finish line meant.

“I wasted time you can’t get back and I will spend the rest of my life chasing the time I wasted.”

Jungkook sucked in a shuddering breath, hand falling from his hair, rueful smile on his face.

“I can only hope you can put up with me for so long.”

You blinked slowly.

He turned his head, brown eyes finding yours, those irises catching the streetlights like how his jewelry had caught the sun, proving that Jeon Jungkook was, indeed, already adorned with nature’s very own jewelry.

You scooped out the last of your red bean ice cream and ate it, looking away from him.

“Sounds like forever,” you remarked, feeling the chilled sweet cool your heated cheeks, swallowing slowly, savoring the way the cold warmed you in its own way.

“Hm?”

“Sounds like I’m stuck with you forever then,” you said, turning back to him with a smirk. “Kinda sucks.”

He smirked back, cocking an eyebrow. “Yeah. Major suck. Speaking of my dick–”

“Oh, shut up.”

But you said it with a smile and he knew you didn’t mean it.

-

“Why the fuck do you have that?”

“It’s from work. Gimmie your arm.”

“Why?”

You extended your arm, frowning, stopping under the streetlight, one hand on the bike as Jungkook held the black permanent marker with his right hand. He used two fingers to uncap it and tucked the lid neatly into his palm, spinning the marker with the adjacent two fingers to readjust it so that he could write on your arm.

“Do you wanna get a tattoo with me?”

“Of what?”

You looked down to him scribbling on your skin, his own black tattoos standing out, covering his entire right arm and up to his shoulder. You wondered if he would end up tattooing his back and maybe his other arm – but, then again, he kind of needed money to have pay for such large pieces.

“Couples tattoo.”

You looked down when he drew back, grinning, reading the word upside down.

LO♡ER

You raised an eyebrow.

“You want to get ‘lover’ tattooed?” you asked, skeptical, turning your arm this way and that, unsure if you liked the placement on your forearm, near your wrist. “You don’t have any space on your right arm anyway.”

“That’s why I would get it on my left.”

And he curved his wrist to write on the bandage on his left forearm, messily writing on top of it.

LO$ER

Now you raised both eyebrows.

“You want to get… ‘loser’ tattooed onto your body?” you snorted disbelievingly.

Jungkook grinned, recapping the black marker with one hand, tapping the dollar sign on the bandage with the marker lid. “Doesn’t it describe me? ‘Cause I had money, and now I don’t.” He pointed to the heart on your skin. “You love me. I love you. A lover with a dollar sign is a loser, right?”

Laughter and skateboards sped past, five blurs of black along the street, spinning around the parked cars, people yelling after them to stop being so reckless, but you were too busy staring at Jungkook to notice the ruckus, too busy staring at that smile and those brown orbs lit up by streetlights.

“Are you stupid?”

Jungkook’s grin widened, mole underneath clearly visible. “Yeah, kind of. Stupidly in love with you.”

You both instantly pretended to gag, trying to mask your smiles, you shoving him and him shoving back, playful and laughing like mad, falling into him, dropping the bike with a loud clang, swept up in his arms and his kiss, your hands hooking behind his neck, love you, love you, love you, not sure about this whole tattoo idea, but, hell, maybe, just maybe if he annoyed you enough about it.

-

Shit, the groceries...

Are they still good?

The green onions look kind of wilted, but so do you and you're still good... I think.

Shut up.

You didn't need him, but being without him was like being frozen in time.

Not that you had any big dreams or aspirations anyone could be envious about. It always been like that, casually cruising through life, existing for the sake of existing, no real reason needed. It just was, and there was no reason to stop, so you kept going. The path was there, so you kept walking.

But, then.

Jeon Jungkook.

Jungkook made you run.

It's not washing off.

Tragic.

Easy for you to say, you wrote yours on your bandage, 'loser'.

So terrible that you have 'lover' written in you by your lover - hey, pfft, stop! Put the showerhead down!

It was truly by chance to meet him, a moment of terror and then he was there, yelling, get off her, don't fucking touch her, and you didn't understand, didn't understand why some random guy would suddenly intervene between an interaction of two strangers, how could he sense your discomfort and fear, and now he was throwing fists, brawling with not one but three guys, friends of the one who slipped his phone and his hands under your skirt, the stranger smashing the phone with venomous rage, fighting in a dress shirt, slacks, leather loafers, and expensive-looking rings, giving you a chance to escape.

A winner at life.

Not like you, you who let something happen because you froze up in that second, disbelieving that such a thing could happen to you, a nobody, a loser.

He kicked one of them in the knee, growling, a howl followed by the sharp crack during the fight.

You could turn and escape.

Or?

You heard sirens.

You grabbed your protector's flying fist and clenched into it tightly, panicking.

Run!

This was before the tattoos.

This was before the pain.

This was before the piercing.

Jeon Jungkook had whipped his head around at the foreign touch, in this mess because he had witnessed something disgusting and because he simply wanted to fight, just wanted to beat someone up, wanted to cause real pain to someone because he couldn't control his own life, wanted to fight something.

Needed to fight.

A hand around his hand.

Run!

Never once had Jungkook thought about escape.

Not until he saw that face, fear and panic and rage and determination, stunningly beautiful, hand around his hand, not letting go, pulling, sirens screaming in the distance, his legs already moving, following, running, running, running, into the sea of the unknown.

Sinking into it.

Lungs screaming, clumsily flying through alleys, on wings of adrenaline, running after the girl in the white hoodie and red plaid skirt holding his hand, falling, falling, falling, skidding across the concrete, her arms around his, her head buried into his chest, his hands around her head to protect it, hitting a dumpster with a pained wheeze.

The sirens sped past.

He was holding her and she was holding him.

It was chance.

Just chance.

His hands were scraped up, bleeding from the trip and tumble, her white hoodie dirtied and ripped from the fall, scrapes on her legs and knees.

I'm sorry...

It was ridiculous chance.

Just ridiculous.

You clung to this stranger and laughed, laughed like a maniac, laughed like you had gone mad, crying into his dirty navy dress shirt, thank you, thank you, thank you, not knowing you were holding the one who would make you run, not knowing who or how affluent he was, now knowing of how it felt to hold his hand and kiss his lips and hear his laugh, not knowing how you would introduce him to a friend who was a tattoo artist and start his interest in them, not knowing you would sit by him for long hours and watch the art grow on his skin...

Holding him, crying, thank you, thank you, thank you for saving me, leaning against a dumpster as the stranger hugged you tightly, I got you, it's okay, don't cry, don't cry, don’t cry please, rubbing your back.

Not knowing.

Not knowing he would make you zero, not knowing you would be standing there, time and time again, verbally beaten by his own parents as he looked away, unable to fight.

And you would escape.

You would run.

He would come back.

An endless cycle until you broke it.

Then he started the endless cycle again, broken as it was, his whispers to your cheeks, I love you, cheeks that were dried of tears because you were cried out and left with a mechanical heart, I love you, heart to heartless because of wasted time, I love you, time wasted but you still loved him, no matter what you did.

Did that make you pathetic?

Did that make you stupid?

Did that make you the loser?

I love you.

Why did it matter?

Even winners die.

I love you too, Jungkook.

"Get your hands off my tits."

"Why?"

You glared at him. Jungkook grinned and spun you around, hair still a little damp, kisses on your face that made you cringe as your naked bodies tumbled on the bed, him doing it on purpose, your grumble against his kisses, should have known, his smirk against your scowl, thought you knew me well by now, capturing his lips to shut him up, sinking into his arms and the ocean that was Jeon Jungkook, the one who made you want to run through the maze of life instead of aimlessly walk down the path.

His hands on your face, staring into your eyes.

You looked back, into those eyes that once had everything, but you.

And yet, he chose to lose it all and have nothing, but you.

It didn't really make sense, being in love.

You searched for regret, but there was none to be found.

"Am I forever your waste of time?" Jungkook whispered, breath drifting over your lips.

You smirked.

"Always was and always will be."

I know you said I was a waste of time. But I was your waste of time and that was all I ever wanted to be.

"Let me at least..."

"Ah, f-fuck, Jungkook!"

Your hands faltered a little, rolling the condom down while biting your lip, gasping as his two fingers plunged into you, him moaning at the wetness, thrusting slowly and deeply.

"What, you think I can't feel good with only your dick?"

"No," Jungkook snickered, pulling his slick fingers out of your pussy and bringing them to his face, cocking an eyebrow. "Just want a taste."

You rolled your eyes as he shoved his fingers into his mouth, sucking them off, eyelids fluttering.

"You're so annoying."

He grinned around his fingers, slowly pulling them out and tracing his wet lips.

You narrowed your eyes.

You don't have to take me back. I understand now, you know... I get it. Everyone... everyone will tell you you're crazy and to not to take me back.

I'm not taking you anywhere.

I... I wouldn't blame you. I promise.

Jungkook, please, shut the fuck up.

Your hands on his chest, smacking your hips down, his head thrown back on the pillows, breathless moan at your tightness, matching his sound with your own, stretching yourself out and feeling him swell even more at the pulse of your walls wrapped around him, rolling your hips into his, wet, intense smacks, his right hand flying up and wrapping around your left wrist, watching you through his lashes with effort, losing himself in your pace, no need to ask because you could see it in his face, his open mouth and glazed over eyes, fingers slipping down, curling your nails into his skin.

“P… Please…”

Raking your nails down his chest, his back arching and eyes closing, groaning in pleasure and pain, fucking him into your mattress so hard that the bedframe squealed, setting your jaw and closing your eyes too, savoring his fullness and thickness, sinking into the ocean of pleasure that was Jeon Jungkook, the one who made you feel like no one else, the one who could make and unmake your mechanical heart, funny how that worked, your nails in his skin creating crescents of lust, your eyes snapping open as you felt his chest rise, his back arching, his hands flat on the bed and thrusting his hips up into you, one eye partly open, black hair pushed back, open-mouthed smirk on his lips.

That dark brown orb partly obscured by his lashes, but revealing all to you.

You ticked your chin at him.

“Look at me.”

His eyes fully opening, pupils dilated, hazed over with lust and stubborn love.

“Nothing is more important to me than loving you,” he panted before sinking his teeth into his lower lip, mole underneath flashing, smacking his hips up into yours hard and fast, and it took no time at all, staring at his face and the way the moonlight cradled his strong jaw and toned muscle, catching the low light and bringing out the fervor in his gaze, filling you just right, pleasure blossoming from your core and yet concentrated tightly at the same time, moan of his name falling from your lips, spilling out from your lips and in between your legs, covering him with the sweet scent and harsh squeezes of orgasm, even wetter now, his eyes rolling back, cock twitching, satisfied hiss of your name spilling out with spurts of cum filling the condom, his length shivering inside you, your thighs closing in and holding him in the air so you could feel it all.

His pleasure and him.

I won’t make it to heaven. I don’t belong there.

It’s not like I belong there either, Jungkook.

Are you sure? Only an angel would take me back.

I didn’t take you back. Only your body walked away. Your heart never left me, did it?

“You sure you don’t want to get a couples tattoo with me?”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around how your dumb ass wants to get ‘loser’ tattooed and how you think that’s romantic.”

He pressed his right forearm against your left and grinned, watching you suck in a breath as he pushed into you again, other condom already in the trash, new one on, your right leg against his chest, sandwiched between your bodies.

“But yeah, if you want, I’ll get a ‘lover’ tattoo.”

He paused, blinking rapidly. “Really?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Why not?”

“You never wanted a tattoo before.”

Now you raised both eyebrows. “Did you ever ask me before?”

Jungkook looked down at you, hair a mess, smile blossoming on his face, somewhere between giddiness and mania, diving down and showering you with kisses, you smacking his arms and telling him, you’re bending me in half, the fuck are you doing, and he laughed, lifting both your legs now, I’ll show you bent in half, placing them between his arms, leaning down, sinking in as deep as possible, your moan and his moan mixing together.

You’re still here.

Of course, I am, this is my fucking apartment. Ugh, your black eye looks even uglier than before.

You don’t… you don’t want me to leave?

Did I say that? Uh… why are you crying?

F… Forget I said a-anything…

Hey, stop. Don’t cry. Don’t cry, Jungkook, please…

“Fuck, you feel so good, fuck…!”

Your hands in his hair, teasing grin on your face, and he was looking down at you, I love your smug smile, fuck, your fingers combing through his hair, pushing it back and away from his face, letting him see your smug smile without any obstructions, you always fuck me so well, Jungkook, the smile breaking out over his handsome features, breathing erratic and labored, hard and rough and deep, you rising your hips to meet him for every loud smack, exhales and moans blending together, tight, wet, full, your grip on his hair tightening, closer, closer, racing to the edge of the cliff and the edge of the world, Jungkook in your hands, taking him with you, or was he the one who was leading you?

“Jungkook…”

Breathless as if you were running, winded from the pleasure, tightening around him, his head lowering, your name washing over your cheeks in a hot gasp, putting more weight on you, nearly folded in half but it felt better this way, gratifying in how hard he could fuck you in this position, staring into those dark brown orbs, his body on yours, knowing he was yours, always was, always will be, and you were his, always was, always will be.

Head pressing into the pillows, moaning his name again, loud and unashamed, the overwhelming feeling taking over, muscles tense and nerves on fire, pouring it all into the pleasure, pulsing around his jerking length, his moan of your name on your skin, shooting shivering strings of cum into the condom, massaged and milked by the strength of your orgasm, locking him in your embrace and his arms closing in, lips on lips, a fierce kiss dominated by shuddering aftershocks, trembling in each other’s hold and taking the other’s breath away, blazing hot all over even though this frozen world cared about no one.

The kiss lasted a long, long time.

It fell apart slowly, leaving you both lightheaded from the intensity.

“You’re a waste of time, Jungkook,” you whispered, heated. “But you’re my time.”

The side of his lips quirked upward, sweaty, panting, chuckling.

“That’s all I ever wanted to be.”

--

masterpost

[babyboywilson]

Aisle 1 For a Love Story

For Bec and Ali’s creator week, Day 3: AU

Also posted on ao3.

Word count: 3,124 (Continued under the Read More)

Eggs, milk, flour, bacon.

Eggs, milk, flour, bacon.

Eggs, milk- oh, wait. Wasn't there something else Charlie had added to the mental shopping list last minute as Dean had left their apartment? What was it?

Alright, time to type the list up. At least then he could have an excuse for not talking to anyone as he made his way through the store. Walking through the parking lot, Dean typed the list into his notes.

Eggs, milk, flour, bacon, oh, and spaghetti. That's what Charlie had shouted as he walked out the door.

As he typed the last word, he stepped through the automatic doors of the grocery store and felt the rush of cold air creep down his neck. If he was quick enough, he could still make it home before Charlie started the next episode of Chopped without him.

"Hi, welcome in. Can I help you find anything today?" a deep male voice asked.

Dean stumbled to a halt, almost dropping his phone as he came within inches of stumbling into whoever had asked him the question.

He opened his mouth, ready to say 'who the hell are you?' and 'no, I don't need your help', but the words got stuck in his throat when he looked up.

Aside from the ridiculous green vest and chunky name tag, the man was devastatingly handsome. Dark messy hair and dazzling blue eyes. A soft smile that made Dean feel a little weak in the knees. The man's nose was scrunched up adorably and his hands had somehow made their way to Dean's shoulders in an attempt to steady him.

"You alright there?" the man asked, and dear God, could that voice be any more attractive?

Dean shook his head, then realized a second later what he was doing and instead switched to nodding. "Yeah, yeah, I'm good… Steve," Dean said, glancing down at the name tag pinned to the bright vest.

The man- Steve- chuckled, low and deep. If those hands weren’t on his shoulders, Dean was sure his knees would’ve given out at the sound. Rich and reverberating in Dean’s head.

“My name is actually Castiel. First day on the job and they didn’t have any name tags for me yet,” Castiel said, hands sliding off Dean's shoulders with a nervous laugh. “I’m um- the store’s new Greeter. Is there- uh- anything I can help you with?”

God dammit. Why was Castiel so cute? ‘Focus, Winchester. Focus,’ Dean thought to himself. “No, I’m uh… I’m good. Got a list that my roommate requested. It’s only a few items,” Dean said, tightening his hold on his phone.

Cas nodded, taking a step backwards and away from Dean. “Good, good. If you have any questions…”

“Maybe ask someone who’s worked here longer than a few hours?” Dean teased. He watched as a flush creeped up Castiel’s cheeks and, God, this man could not get anymore beautiful if he tried.

“I’m a fast learner. Ask me next week and I’m sure I’ll know where everything is,” Castiel said, tugging on his vest before looking up at Dean through his eyelashes.

Clearing his throat, Dean took a step further into the store; away from a couple of teens who were looking between Dean and Castiel with matching grins. “I’d better, you know…”

Castiel nodded, moving back towards the entrance of the store. “It was nice to meet you-”

“Dean. My name’s Dean.”

Castiel smiled; a soft expression that made his blue eyes melt. “Nice to meet you, Dean.”

Before he could melt into those eyes, Dean turned and hightailed towards the dairy aisle on the other side of the store.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.

Dean was in trouble. Yep. Absolutely in trouble. The only other grocery store in the area was all the way on the other side of town. No way could he drive that far every day, especially with how often he needed ingredients for the baking business he and Charlie were starting to run out of their little kitchen.

That just meant he was going to have to ignore the fact he felt a spark. A hint of a crush. Nope. No way was Dean going to fall for the new guy in the grocery store. Nu uh. Nope. Not happening.

~

“Hiya, Cas. Have you got those organic bananas in yet?” Dean asked as soon as he stepped into the store, brushing his hair from his face as the air conditioning above the door blew his bangs into his face.

Cas stepped aside, waving to another customer before leaning against one of the drink refrigerators by the entrance where Dean had veered off to. “Yes! We just got them in an hour ago. What are you making with them? Banana bread? Oh. Is it a banana cream pie again? That one you brought me a sample of last week was delicious,” Cas said with a grin.

Dean laughed, shaking his head. “Nope. Got an order in from a neighbor for a banana upside down cake. If there’s any leftovers I can bring them by tomorrow. Oh wait, tomorrow is your day off. How about Thursday?”

Seven months of being friends, and yes, maybe Dean had memorized Cas’ schedule. Wednesday and Saturday were his days off (Dean had asked why he didn’t have a normal schedule with two days off in a row but Cas had just shrugged and said he was happy to work whenever his managers needed him).

“Thursday sounds great. I’m always happy to try your baking,” Cas said as he brushed their arms together. The movement caused Cas’ name tag to catch the sunlight and it momentarily made Dean blink against the blinding light. Putting his hand out, he tugged the tag down an inch and smiled at Cas.

“You’re blinding me again,” he teased, fingers lingering against Cas’ name for a second longer than necessary before he pulled his hand away.

The badge now said ‘Castiel’ instead of Steve. But it had only taken Dean a couple weeks of calling the man Castiel before he’d given him a nickname instead. Cas. And the nickname had caught on, because now Dean had heard the rest of the employees calling him Cas, too. A feat that Dean was quite proud of achieving. Castiel was a mouthful, but Cas suited him better.

“Maybe I wouldn’t need to blind you if you didn’t distract me from my job at least once a day,” Cas grinned, nudging their shoulders together.

“I have no idea what you mean. I was merely having a conversation with my best friend. Just don’t tell Charlie I said that,” Dean winked, watching as that all-too-familiar blush climbed up Cas’ cheeks.

Just as Cas opened his mouth to throw some kind of retort back at Dean, an overhead announcement interrupted the moment. “Castiel to aisle 2 for a customer. Castiel to aisle 2,” the message repeated before cutting off.

“That’s my cue,” Cas said, nodding his head towards the fresh produce in aisle 2.

“Woah, wait. Can anyone request your help in the store?” Dean asked, a spark of hope dancing in his veins at the idea of calling for Cas over the intercom to whatever aisle Dean needed ‘help’ in.

The way Cas rolled his eyes made Dean laugh. “Don’t be getting any ideas about sending me all across the store just because you feel like it,” Cas said, knocking their wrists together before pulling away.

The grin on Dean’s face felt like it was going to split his cheeks with happiness. “I would never,” he said, even though he knew that was exactly what he was going to do on his next visit to the store.

Together, they both moved towards the produce, with Cas veering towards the vegetables and Dean heading to the fruits.

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” Cas asked just before they went their separate ways.

Dean nodded, motioning to the newly-stocked bananas. “With banana upside cake,” he confirmed.

Turning away to actually buy whatever groceries he needed always sucked. Walking away from Cas was Dean’s least favorite part of the day. He hated to admit it, but his little crush had snowballed into a head-over-heels ache. A day without seeing Cas felt empty; as if there were a Cas-sized-hole in Dean’s day until he walked into the store and saw that handsome face.

Normally, Dean could steal Cas away from the front doors for 5 minutes to talk about anything and everything. But today had been cut short and Dean felt slighted by it.

Well then. He’d just have to come back to the store right before Cas’ lunch break.

Nodding as if that were the completely normal thing to do, Dean paid for the bananas and made his way back to the car. He could easily run a couple more errands and swing back past the store on the way home.

Yep. That was totally normal.

An hour and a half later, Dean walked back through the entrance and under the spray of cold air. His eyes instantly locked with Cas’ and he saw the way the tension slipped from his shoulders.

“Dean! What are you doing back here? You were only here an hour ago,” Cas said, automatically moving to the side and out of the way of a couple of customers walking in.

“I um-” Dean started. Shit. He hadn’t thought of a valid excuse for why he’d be coming back for the second time in the same day. “Forgot to get butter. Charlie texted me just as I was on my way home to remind me.”

“Well, lucky for you, I’m just about to clock out for my lunch break. I can help you find that butter and you can tell me about this cake you’re baking while I eat my lunch?” Cas asked, a flicker of something dancing in his eyes as he looked at Dean.

The offer made Dean’s stomach twist and flutter, and he found himself nodding before he could find the words to say yes.

"Yeah, I'd like that," Dean said, darting his gaze away from Cas' before his heart could catapult right out of his chest.

As they walked to the aisle with the butter, their hands brushed together and Dean swore he was going to stop breathing. God. Why couldn't Cas just push him against the shelves and kiss him stupid? Dean ached for it; to feel Cas pressed against him and to have their mouths moving together.

But maybe Cas didn't want it? Maybe they were better off just staying as friends? It didn't stop Dean from yearning. From desperately thinking about what it would be like to have Cas be his.

After Dean had purchased the butter, Cas tugged Dean towards a quiet spot at the back of the store and told him to wait there. A minute later, he came out of the break room with a PB&J sandwich and a lemonade.

“Tell me about the cake you and Charlie are working on,” Cas said, offering half his sandwich to Dean.

They spent Cas’ entire 30 minute break talking and sharing the sandwich. If Dean thought he was falling before, he was absolutely gone on Cas by the end of Cas’ break.

Walking back to the front of the store, Dean motioned to the entrance with his thumb. “I should get back home before Charlie does all the baking without me,” Dean said. Part of him wanted to stay all day and talk to Cas, but he knew that wasn’t an option.

“I’ll see you on Thursday, yeah? Don’t you dare forget a slice of that cake,” Cas said, eyes lingering on Dean’s face in a way that had butterflies soaring through Dean’s chest. Was it just Dean’s imagination, or was Cas staring at his lips?

Swallowing thickly, Dean nodded and tried to make his lungs function again. Quite possibly because Cas had somehow stolen all the air from his body once again with just a simple look. “Wouldn’t dream of forgetting,” Dean said. He had to bite down on his tongue and flee the grocery store before the words ‘it’s a date’ could tumble from his lips.

~

Cas’ POV

Just five more minutes until Dean would walk through those automatic doors and flash him that beautiful smile that had Cas’ heart racing in his chest.

Dean had been coming into the store more frequently over the last couple weeks. What had been a once a day encounter had turned into two and then three times a day, and now Cas had it down to a T. Always in the morning when the store opened, and then again right before Cas went onto his lunch break, and then finally in the evening lull when Cas was in need of some company.

Oh, how Cas loved those moments with Dean. He’d started setting his watch to count down to the moments when Dean would walk into the store and steal Cas’ breath away.

God. Dean was gorgeous. Absolutely breathtaking. Funny and smart. Full of amazing stories about his baking adventures and always carrying with him some new samples for Cas to try.

Oh yes. Cas was smitten. Absolutely and utterly gone for Dean. Had been since their first meeting when Dean had almost knocked him over. Cas’ hands had brushed against Dean’s shoulders and their eyes had met and Cas was starstruck.

And he’d only gone and devastatingly fallen for the man who had become his best friend. There was a spark. Cas was sure of it. A possible hint of reciprocation. There had to be, right? What man came to the grocery store 3 times a day unless he were specifically coming to talk to Cas, right?

Pacing the front entrance of the store, Cas pulled in a deep breath of air. Today. For sure. It had to be today.

For weeks, Cas had been trying to pluck up the courage to ask Dean out. He’d managed to ask Dean to join him on his lunch break, and they always shared sandwiches and sat pressed up next to each other in the back of the store. But every time he tried to tell Dean that he was his favorite part of the day, he froze with nerves.

Tomorrow was one of his days off, and Cas was determined. He was gonna ask Dean out on a date. They could spend the day together tomorrow. He didn’t even care what they did. As long as he got to spend time with Dean outside of work.

Taking another deep breath to steady himself, the watch beeped on his wrist. Just as he’d managed to turn it off, Dean waltzed into the door.

“Hiya, Cas,” Dean said, bright and bubbly as ever.

Cas’ heart lurched in his chest. Dean looked especially beautiful today. Old red flannel shirt and black jeans with holes ripped in the knees. A streak of flour still sat high on his cheekbone, and Cas couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and rubbing it away with his thumb.

Dean blushed, eyes dropping to the ground before he gave Cas this soft little smile. Oh God. Cas was completely sweet on Dean.

“Hi Dean. It’s my lunch break, if you wanna sit with me in the back?” Cas asked quietly, heart hammering away against his ribs as his fingers danced over Dean’s wrist.

Dean nodded, licking his lips before holding out a cold-brew coffee. The same one Cas had mentioned yesterday. Dean really did listen to him.

Oh, Cas was so far beyond crushing on Dean. He was absolutely falling in love with him.

Together, they moved to the back of the store. Cas grabbed his sandwich- ham and cheese this time- and offered Dean a slice. Instead of sitting though, Cas leaned against one of the shelves.

“Can I ask you something?” Cas asked after a minute had slipped by with them leaning next to each other.

“Is it about the chocolate loaf that Charlie mentioned when she was in here yesterday? Because if it is, I really did try to save you a slice. But my brother is in town and he ate it before I could bring it to you,” Dean quickly interjected, a flush creeping down into the collar of his shirt.

“No, no. Not that.” Cas took one final steadying breath, hoping to God that he could get the words out without making a fool of himself. “Do you have any plans tomorrow?” Cas asked, the words coming out in a whisper as his heart jumped up into his throat.

Dean tilted his head slightly before a flicker of hope danced across his eyes. “No plans. Why? Isn’t tomorrow your day off?”

Here it was. Now or never.

“Go on a date with me?” Cas asked, forcing the words out as fast as he could before he lost his nerve.

Dean blinked once, twice, before a heart-melting smile burst across his face. “Castiel Novak. Are you asking me out?” Dean teased, fingers reaching out to ghost along Cas’ cheek.

Chewing on his lip, Cas looked up at Dean through his eyelashes. “Yeah, I am. I’m so- you make me so- God, Dean, I’ve been crushing on you for months. Honestly, since the day we met. You’re the highlight of my day and I count down to the moments I get to see you. All I wanna do is kiss you,” Cas admitted. Once the words started flowing, he couldn’t stop them. He wanted. He yearned.

“Yes. Hell yes, I’ll go on a date with you,” Dean beamed, leaning into Cas’ space until their foreheads were pressed together. “Well, what are you waiting for? Kiss me, Cas,” Dean said, words ghosting over Cas’ mouth.

Lurching forward, Cas connected their mouths together. They stumbled backwards, and Cas pressed Dean into the shelves as he locked their lips together. Cas licked along Dean’s lower lip, and Dean sighed blissfully as he opened his mouth.

Cas melted into the kiss, arms locking around Dean’s neck as Dean’s hands settled on his waist. They broke apart with a gasp, only for Cas to chase Dean’s mouth into another kiss. The kisses slowed down, gentle and sweet as Cas brushed their lips together in little strokes.

When they finally pulled away, Dean was laughing happily and Cas felt like he was floating. “Please tell me you’re gonna kiss me like that again tomorrow?” Dean asked, fingers trailing along Cas’ hips.

Cas smiled until his face ached with happiness. “I’m gonna kiss you like that again right now,” he murmured.

If they spent Cas’ entire break kissing against the shelves, well, that might’ve been the best lunch break Cas had ever had.

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[queenshelby]

Roommates – Part Two

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 2,363

Warning: Smut

Note: This plays in 2020.

Three days had passed and your new little toy had become your new lockdown obsession. You never had an orgasm so strong and your two best female friends thought that it was rather amusing when you told them about it over a glass of wine.

Every Tuesday evening, you skyped with Laura and Elenore in your room for at least an hour while enjoying some alcoholic beverages and tonight was no different.

But, since living with Cillian and following his breakup with Laura, you had to be careful about what you were saying as you didn’t want to upset either of them.

Laura clearly wasn’t over the breakup and continuously asked you about Cillian, finding it somewhat strange that you were living together and, whilst you assured her that you were not interested in Cillian, she struggled to believe you.

You hadn’t told Laura about Cillian’s hook ups with Lindsay and made it clear to both of her and Cillian that you weren’t going to discuss their respective private lives with the other and would appreciate if they were going to accept your position in this regard.

Whilst Cillian did, Laura sometimes couldn’t help herself and dwelled on about how she missed Cillian. Clearly, she was still in love with him and, whilst you reminded her that you aren’t a messenger between him and her, you were quite willing to listen to her and provide emotional support as a friend.

When, however, the topic of intimacy came up in your conversations, you couldn’t help but cringe.

According to Laura, he was quite a devil in the bedroom department and you felt as though your wanted your ears to explode every time Laura brought up specifics.

This, again, happened tonight when your sex toy recommendation turned into something else entirely and you learned that you missed out on so many things with James.

According to your friends, what you and him used to get up to was quite ordinary and you learned that your best friend and roommate was much more adventurous than your ex-fiancé.

‘You did not have sex at the theatre…oh my god’ you said in disbelieve when Laura told you one of the many stories in which you learned that Cillian had quite a thing for risky public relations with his female partners.

‘Who would have thought huh? He seems all so quiet and shy, but he really isn’t’ Laura confirmed, making you to take a rather large sip from your glass of wine.

‘Apparently so’ you then giggled before you also learned that your new house mate was hiding some things in the basement.  

‘Common, you’ve been living there for three months now and you never wondered what the hooks in the ceiling of the basement are for?’ Laura then asked and you couldn’t help but choke on your wine. A sex swing perhaps, you now wondered?

‘I think I have heard enough, thanks. Can we please change the topic?’ you asked somewhat embarrassed but, it wasn’t the fact that you learned these kinky facts about Cillian which embarrassed you. Rather, it was the fact that you got aroused by the thought of him doing those things. This, in turn, made you uncomfortable and you didn’t like that you were fantasising about him in any way at all.

You even had started to have dreams about Cillian over the past few days, causing you to wake up aroused and wet and forcing you to seek relief. You never felt like this about him before and you wondered why this was happening now.

Was it the fact that you saw him every day, sometimes even half naked as he carelessly moved through the house? Was it because you were bored and sex deprived? Or was it because your bond had become stronger after he helped you and supported you through your break up?

You didn’t know what it was that caused you to have these thoughts about him but you noticed that they had become more prominent and you found yourself looking at his body more frequently when you were around each other.

****

But you weren’t the only one checking out their roommate. Cillian quite obviously did the same.

It was Wednesday morning that he came back from doing the grocery shopping as you were in the kitchen, dancing and making pizza dough.

You didn’t even notice Cillian walking in as you shook your booty to some loud music while giving the dough a good workout.

Wearing nothing but a cotton singlet and cotton briefs, you were twirling around the kitchen just you twirled around the dough. Your top wad covered in flour and so was your hair and face.

Cillian’s chin dropped and inhaled sharply before putting down the shopping bags.

‘Having fun there?’ he asked, startling you and making you drop one of the empty plastic bowls.

‘Absolutely’ you smiled before bending down in front of him and he couldn’t help but wonder how far your tattoo on your right thigh extended upwards.

Whilst Cillian put away the groceries, you finished preparing the dough and set aside to rise before cleaning the mess you had made.

‘I am going out with the dog shortly, do you want to come?’ you asked but Cillian declined your offer.

There was something else he needed to do.

***

Knowing that you had left the house, Cillian made his way to the basement.

‘This is ridiculous’ he said to himself as, once again, his erect cock was straining against his tight jeans after he saw you dancing around in the kitchen.

There was something about you like this, in your black cotton panties and your black singlet, messy hair and your top covered with white dust from the flour moving to the beat of “Touched” by Part Human. Your nipple piercings were clearly visible through the thin top and the tattoo on your upper thigh was barely covered.

It wasn’t even the kind of music he liked, nor did he like tattoos or piercings on women. He didn’t want you. Or did he? He wasn’t so sure anymore but, what he did know, was that he needed to get off yet again.

Opening up his laptop he was quick to flash up the internet, but it wasn’t a porn website which he decided to visit. To the contrary, Cillian felt the need to listen to this very same song again, picturing you in his head, dancing and slowly loosing the little amount of clothes you were wearing.

He placed a towel onto the large office chair in front of his desk and, after sitting down, Cillian unzipped his jeans and pulled them down slightly, releasing his raging erection. He leaned back against the chair comfortably, closed his eyes and caressed his shaft gently.

Using an open hand, he massaged his cock and balls at the same time while imaging you, dancing for him. There was no time for guilt as every stroke of his hand sent a shiver down his spine and every exhalation released tension from his already throbbing cock.

Cillian then used his other hand to move upwards and with a lick of the forefinger, massaged the back of his bulging head, much like the way you tease a wooden clit.

But it was no longer his hands he imagined stroking him, it were yours instead and he squirmed under the overwhelming pressure of anticipation. Panting and short of breath, Cillian opened his eyes like one waking from a nightmare.

It didn’t quite feel right just yet and he quickly reached into one of the draws in his study desk and retrieved a tube of cherry flavoured lube which Laura had bought back in time. Cillian squirted the lube directly down his pulsing shaft and some of it ran over his tight balls and down into his clenching ass. The lube was cold but soothing and the scent of cherry-scented lube filled the room.

Cillian spread the lube all over his shaft with his right hand and began stroking, up and down, slowly at first and then increasing in speed. The sensation of it trickling down his ass arched his back, making his breath seize up.

The thought of you stroking him occupied his mind as he continued to stroke. He was sweating now, panting and wanting more. He could feel the surge through his testicles as he continued to rub his shaft and tease his balls.

His body lurched. Mouth open. Eyes closed. There was a surge of pre-cum, running across his thumb and, in his mind, he imagined you licking it off with your pierced tongue.

Then, finally, the roll of cum began as he continued to stroke his cock hard and fast. The orgasm was building, muscles contracting. Cillian’s cock was hard as a rock. One frantic gasp for air and release.

With a loud groan, Cillian came hard and his seed landed all over his upper thighs and the towel beneath him while his cock continued to throb and pulse in his hand. Cillian squeezed the last of his cum from his shaft with a final groan and, just as he did, he heard a voice in the doorway.

‘Oh my god, fuck’ you said with total embarrassment as you quickly turned around when you realised what you had just witnessed.

‘Fuck, Y/N, Jesus’ Cillian shouted out, cheeks flushing red.

‘I am so sorry Cillian. Please tell me when you are decent, alright’ you chuckled while Cillian quickly wiped his cum off his thighs with the towel and pulled up his jeans.

‘I am decent’ Cillian huffed out rather embarrassed and you turned around with a wide grin on your face.

‘Listen Y/N, this…’ Cillian began to say but you immediately interrupted him.

‘Cilly, there is no need to explain, really. We all have needs and its not that I haven’t seen your manhood before. In fact, most of the world has, although maybe not in an erect state’ you chuckled, thinking back at 28 Days Later.

‘I thought you were out with the dog, so, uhm…you know…’ Cillian barely managed to say.

‘I forgot the doggy bags and came down here to ask you where they were’ you eventually said and Cillian got up and showed you where he had put them.

‘Right, thanks, I am going now, see you later’ you then said before commenting on his choice of music to masturbate to which, of course, embarrassed Cillian even more.

***

For the remainder of the day, you couldn’t get Cillian out of your mind. The picture of him masturbating was stuck in your mind and so was the picture of his hard cock and cum covered thighs.

There was no way you could go to sleep like this and you pondered on about what Laura told you and how dirty minded this man really was.

From light BDSM to anal sex, you were certainly turned on and you were feeling ashamed about it. He was your best friend for god sake and yet all you could think about was his hard cock.

With those thoughts running through your mind, you reached for your other more conventional vibrator and lay back and open your legs as wide as they will go before placing the tip of your vibrator at the entrance to your dripping pussy.

Whilst you felt guilty about it, you imagined it be Cillian’s hard and glistening cock instead of your vibrator, pausing for just a moment before gliding it home.

‘Fuck’ you whispered, unable to keep completely silent, and began sliding the vibrator in and out of you. The fullness felt amazing and you loved it but you couldn’t get enough. You were aching for more, for Cillian’s warm skin on yours instead of the hollow air and the cold vibrator in between your legs.

But your mind went even further than that, imagining the cum you had seen on Cillian’s thighs inside of your pussy, filling you and dripping out of you slowly. You even wondered what his cum would taste like and feel like in your mouth as you began pleasuring yourself harder and faster.

You were desperate now, your eyes closed, picturing your best friend making love to you. Imaging that this is him slamming himself into you over and over as he tells you that you are his. It's almost too much, but at the same time not enough.

You stopped for a moment and pull the toy out suddenly, almost cumming as you did. Quickly you reached down with your left hand and used your fingers to dip them inside, soaking them in your juices. You began pumping the vibrator into you slipping and sliding over and over in a constant motion. Fucking yourself faster, harder in desperate need.

Your left hand had also increased in speed, furiously drawing circles around your twitching swollen clit and, after only a few seconds you explode without making a sound.

The explosion was overpowering from waves of pleasure from inside you coming out and along every inch of your skin. They started before the last one ended, rippling forever upwards throughout your whole body.

Your clit suddenly too sensitive that you had to remove your fingers gently and bask in the glory of it. But, it only took a moment for the guilt to set in.

You knew you had to do something about this but, with new COVID restrictions having been introduced, you knew that you were stuck for now. You wouldn’t be going anywhere and all you could do is distract yourself from your filthy thoughts about your closest friend.

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[justoneofthoseghosts]

Prompt Request 🙂

Brettsey + Matt kissing Sylvie while she is talking midsentence and Sylvie kissing Matt while he is talking midsentence

Matt and Sylvie walked through the aisles. Matt was pushing the cart while Sylvie consulted the shopping list on her phone. It had been close to a year since Matt came back from Oregon. He had initially moved in with Sylvie in her apartment while looking for something more permanent.

Sylvie was busy filling him in on one of the recent calls she and Violet had that she forgot to mention when she got home yesterday. Since there wasn't any openings on any of the rigs at 51, he found one on the same shift at another house within the same district. It had been a bit of an adjustment but he was a bit more used to change by now due to his three year stint in Oregon. The firefighters on his new rig were a solid crew and while nothing really beat the camaraderie at 51, he was happy to be back in Chicago.

He glances at Sylvie, her eyes bright, as she enthusiastically recounted what happened to a victim, who swallowed an engagement ring her boyfriend, or rather fiancé, hid in a piece of chocolate cake. He laughs when she tells him that she had to perform the Hiemlich maneuver because there was no other way and the ring ended up dropping into somebody's soup bowl. Still, Sylvie says, it did end in a happy ending. The guy went with them to the hospital and proposed while in the back of the ambulance with Sylvie as a witness.

"All's well that end's well," Matt quips.

"Yeah," Sylvie agrees, "not the most romantic place to propose but at least it was memorable."

Matt chuckles, shaking his head. Memorable was one way to put it.

They continue to browse through the supermarket, Matt helping Sylvie grab something from the top shelf, grinning as he teased her about her height. She swats his arm playfully before rolling her eyes and directing him to the baking aisle.

They were at the supermarket to buy some groceries for their upcoming housewarming party. Three months after Matt came back, he realized he wanted to buy a house, one where he could raise a family and when he told Sylvie about it she was supportive. It didn't take long after for him to ask if she wanted to move in together. They had spent so long apart that he didn't really want to waste any more time.

Sylvie looks at the different brand of flours before selecting one and placing into the cart, grabbing some baking powder and baking soda too.

"Oh, we need to get some coffee beans later from that cafe near the house since we're almost out and we can get some takeout too. I know how much you like their pastrami sandwiches," Sylvie mentions, sliding next to Matt.

She continues to prattle on about other errands they might need to run for the day. They moved in last week and while the house was mostly furnished, there were still some little bits and bobs that they needed to buy.

Sylvie begins to pick a few grapefruits in the produce section while Matt holds out the plastic bag for her to place the fruits into. She holds two up to Matt, asking him which one he thought seemed fresher and he's seized by this overwhelming urge to kiss her. Sure, they weren't really big on PDA and kissing in the middle of a supermarket full of people was high on the PDA scale but he just really wanted to do it. Maybe it was because it was slowly starting to sink in that they were homeowners now. The deed had both of their names on it and after waiting years for this, after all the sacrifice, the missed calls and rescheduled trips, they could finally live their lives however which way they wanted to.

"Matt, you have this funny look on your face. What's going on?" Sylvie asks in concern, "do you not like grape -"

Matt swoops in and kisses Sylvie. She lets out a startled yelp, dropping one of the grapefruits in her hand, causing it land on the ground with a dull thud and rolling away.

When they pull apart after a few seconds, Matt opens his eyes and gazes at her slightly dazed expression.

"What was that for?" She inquires, blinking up at him.

He shrugs, "no reason. I just really wanted to kiss you."

***

After dinner, Matt and Sylvie continue to unpack their things. There were still a few boxes of clothes they needed to get to. Somehow, since they moved, they had gotten easily distracted by other things and seemingly weren't able to immediately finish their unpacking.

Sylvie is sitting in the middle of the walk in closet, looking around. It was one of the few things she wanted when they began house hunting. When Matt asked her if she wanted to buy a house together, she didn't even hesitate. They had gone through this whirlwind experience the last three years and it felt like they were both waking up to the reality that they were here and now, both finally able to choose each other and be a bit selfish for once. They visited a handful of houses until they saw this one. Matt called to her from inside the master bedroom and when she came in, following his voice, she found him in the huge closet, grinning widely at her, knowing that she would love it.

As Sylvie begins to open the boxes, Matt walks in, carrying another box. They were slowly filling the space, splitting the closet in half - the left side belonged to Sylvie and the right to Matt. Although, Matt was gracious enough to tell her that she could have more space if she needed since he didn't have a lot of clothes anyway. She pointed out that she'll likely take him up on it and he shouldn't wonder if his side started to turn slowly pink.

Sylvie starts to pull out boxes and Matt crouches down to help her, peering into the box containing Sylvie's sweaters.

"You want to arrange them by color?" Matt asks.

Sylvie should probably be more surprised that Matt knew exactly wha she was thinking but she wasn't. He had seen her label maker and her spice cabinet in her kitchen so he knew she was organized. He had told her at one point that it made him want to be organized too. Sylvie thinks that's one of the best things about their relationship, the knowledge that they could continue to make each other better, to inspire the other to continue to grow and yet still be on equal footing in making decisions and being able to talk things through no matter how challenging, heart breaking or difficult it could get.

"Or are you thinking type of knit?" Matt questions, tilting his head to the side and giving it some though himself, grabbing one of her sweaters and examining it.

Sylvie grins at him. Maybe she was rubbing off on him. Also, was it weird that this type of talk was kind of turning her on?

"Sylvie, what do you -"

She launches herself at him and he drops the sweater to the carpeted floor as she wraps her arms around his shoulder, pulling him closer until their lips meet.

She sighs into it as Matt wraps his hands on her waist and they continue to kiss in the middle of their new walk in closet, in their new bedroom, in their new home.

"What was that for?" Matt wonders when they pull apart. He presses his forehead against hers, grinning.

Sylvie smiles back, "I just really wanted to kiss you."

Needless to say, unpacking would likely need to be rescheduled to another day. Sylvie takes Matt's hands in her and slowly walks him back into the bedroom.

[h2bakugou]

Hi there! Can I please request the main three + Kirishima with an s/o who has younger siblings and is used to them buttering them up thinking it’ll help them avoid getting into trouble so when their boyfriend compliment them they instinctively turn to him and is all like “Alright you demons, what did you do this time?” Before realizing that it’s just their boyfriend? Thanks!

a/n: hi!! of course! this request is super cute, having siblings is both a treasure and a nightmare lmfao. thank you for the request love!!

headcanon: them with an s/o who has younger siblings

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: fluff, swearing

»»————-　★　————-««

izuku midoriya

»»————-　★　————-««

Having younger siblings is truly a blessing. Sometimes.

You love your siblings, you do, but they are pure chaos. 

“Did we ever tell you how pretty you are?” Your younger sister’s voice rang out. You were just shopping for some snacks and they wanted to come with you.

You knew they’d done something. They always buttered you up so you wouldn’t get mad. But no matter what they did, you’d still love them. Being stern was just a way of teaching them, you wouldn’t go as far as actually hurting them if they did something bad.

“What’d you do this time?” You question, turning around to eye both your younger sister and brother.

Covered almost head to toe in what you assumed was baking flour, your brother and sister smiled back up at you. You let out a small laugh before returning to your older sibling instinct.

“What were you guys even doing?!” You placed the snack you’d picked up in your basket and sighed, taking both of their hands and walking over an aisle where the opened bags of flour laid, covering the floor.

“We wanted to get the sugar you needed! So we stood on the shelves to get it.” Your younger sister spoke softly, smiling.

“I see. Well next time, if you can’t reach something, ask first okay? You could get hurt if you fall back.” 

No matter the situation, you always try to make the moment a teachable lesson. They’re still growing, they’re going to make mistakes. That’s okay.

If there’s anything you can do, you just want to teach them the right way to do things, or at least the best of the options.

“We will!” Your brother promises, hugging you, coating you in flour from your waist down.

“You’re going to need to pay for the bags of flour.” A store employee speaks, already bringing the equipment to clean it up.

“Of course, here you go.” You hand over the money and head to check out, bringing your flour-coated siblings along.

“We’re gonna get a bubble bath after this!” Your younger sister spoke up, which started your brother.

“Bubble bath! Bubble bath!”

It’s a long day of cleaning up before you can relax.

You sometimes forget you’re at the dorms. Despite not actually having your siblings around, you still feel like whipping Mineta into shape is about as close as you can get.

It never works, but maybe one day it will.

“You look beautiful, (Y/n).” The comment totally throws you off. And you’re quick to come with a response.

“What’d you demons do this time-”

Realizing it was Izuku who complimented you, you immediately started to feel flustered.

“What?!” Izuku’s a bit confused. You waved your hands and eventually hid your face.

“My younger siblings always butter me up and compliment me when they’ve done something. I forgot I was at the dorms for a second.” You laugh. Midoriya smiles and gives you a hug.

“That’s so cute. I didn’t know you had siblings.” You hug Midoriya back and sigh.

“I love them to death, they’re little shits but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

»»————-　★　————-««

katsuki bakugou

»»————-　★　————-««

Your younger brother reminds you a lot of Bakugou. He’s loud and obnoxious, but he can be sweet.

It doesn’t change the fact that the little devil practically butters you up when he knows he’s done something to get in trouble.

For example, the time he put superglue on his teacher’s chair. 

“You know I love you so so much and I wouldn’t have anyone else be the best older sibling?” Your brother smiled at you, even handing you a store-bought cupcake.

“Something seems...suspicious. Is there hot sauce in this cupcake?” You eye the cupcake.

“No.” Your brother laughs.

“What’d you do then?” You quirk an eyebrow up at him, waiting for what line of trouble you’d have to get him out of now.

“I sorta put superglue on my teacher’s chair and now they’re going to call home and I don’t want mom to be mad at me, it was just a harmless prank and no one got hurt!” Your brother explained. Despite wanting to burst out laughing, you knew where he was coming from. 

“Alright. I’ll talk to them, and I imagine I’ll have to sign something too?” You set the cupcake down on the counter and look at your brother.

“Yup!”

You extended a hand for a high-five which your brother joyfully completes.

“Good prank, but let’s not do it again. I might not always be able to pick up the calls made home.” You gave him a hug, ruffling his hair.

“Thank you for being honest with me.” You smiled.

“You’re welcome!”

Your brother, while being a little devil, was honest. You’d tried your best to help teach him while he was growing up that honesty was a good quality in someone strong, and your brother wanted to be the strongest.

Answering the phone call, you sat beside your brother, telling them how it wouldn’t happen again and that if need be, you’d replaced the pants his teacher had been wearing that day as a sort of apology.

Also signing the note that ‘proper punishment’ would be distributed for his actions, you packed it up in his bag for the next day.

Being in the dorms was honestly a bit lonely. You loved your brother, albeit he was chaotic, you missed him coming to you with his tales of how he was king of the schoolyard.

Walking down the seemingly empty hallway toward your dorm, a compliment threw you off.

“Did I ever tell you how much I loved you?” The voice didn’t belong to your brother but your first instinct was to ask what the hell he’d done now.

“What’d you do this time?” You turn and see your blonde boyfriend staring at you with a funny look on his face.

“I mean uh...hey Bakugou!” You can feel your face heat up.

“I was saying I loved you, I didn’t do anything.” Bakugou confronted you. You nodded and let out a laugh.

“I have a brother who says the same thing to me when he gets into trouble.” You lay your arms across his shoulders.

“He reminds me a lot of you actually. He wants to be the strongest hero ever one day.” You smile, knowing that Bakugou’s goal was pretty close to that.

“Oh really? Well, he’ll have to surpass me!” 

“I think you’d really get along with one another. He’s a secret All Might fanboy too.”

»»————-　★　————-««

shoto todoroki

»»————-　★　————-««

Todoroki knows what it’s like to have siblings, but being the youngest himself, he wasn’t aware of what it was like to be an older sibling.

You, on the other hand, were an older sibling. You had a younger sister that was quite devious.

She usually found herself getting into trouble out and about, whether it be in school, or whenever you went out to the store with her, she always caused some chaos.

Like the time she ‘laid a trap’ in one of the grocery store aisles.

She’d spilled some water and waited for someone to come and walk through the puddle. But she was caught before someone did something.

The store attendant brought her over to you where she proceeded to butter you up.

“You’re so beautiful, I love you so much you know that right?” She smiled, grabbing onto your hand.

“Oh yeah, what’d you do this time?” You ask, turning your attention toward her.

“She spilled water all over the floor which could’ve lead to an accident. I’m going to have to ask you both to check out and leave.” The attendant wasn’t happy. You were a little upset but you’d make this moment memorable.

“Just a second please.” You spoke to the attendant before bending down to your sister’s level.

“Why did you spill water on the floor?” You asked, waiting for her response.

“I was laying a trap!” 

“Yes, but what could’ve happened if someone got caught up in the trap?” You asked, holding her hands as she starts to come to a realization.

“They could’ve gotten hurt.” She speaks softly.

“Mhmm, and would you want someone to get hurt?” You tilt your head to the side.

“No. Only bad guys hurt people.” She nodded, her smaller fingers looping with yours.

“That’s right, and you want to be a hero one day right? Like All Might?” You smile.

“Yup! He’s the coolest!” 

“Alright, so no more laying traps! Let’s apologize okay?” You turn to the store attendant who seems almost impressed by how fast you’d turned the interaction to positive instead of negative.

“I’m sorry Mr. Man! It won’t happen again! I’m gonna be the next All Might!” Your sister cheers as you head out of the store, not buying anything.

You take your sister with you to the dorms on one of your days off. You promised she could meet All Might, and while they’re playing in the common room, you completely blank at a compliment made to you.

“You’re so beautiful.” Todoroki says softly.

“What’d you do- Sho!” You try not to embarrass yourself. You look over and see that your sister is still playing with All Might, holding his action figure and zipping around imaginatively.

“I didn’t do anything. Why do you ask?” Shoto hugs you briefly before looking at you with concern.

“No no, my sister usually compliments me before telling me she got into trouble. I blanked for a second.” You reassure him that he hadn’t done anything. You give him a quick kiss on his cheek before looking back to watch your sister.

“I didn’t know you had a sister until today.” Todoroki smiles, holding your hand.

“She’s a little rascal but I love her. You’re the youngest of your family aren’t you?” You nudge him.

“I am-”

“Awe you’re the baby!” You hug him, poking his cheek and teasing him lightly.

“I’m 16, not an infant-”

»»————-　★　————-««

eijiro kirishima

»»————-　★　————-««

Your little brother is quite spirited. He’s chaotic but as sweet as can be.

But he never fails to butter you up when he gets into trouble.

“You’re so pretty, red really is your color!” He smiles as he stands before you, holding something behind his back.

“Mhm, what trouble did you find yourself in now?” You ask, sitting down in a chair at your kitchen table.

“I need someone to sign my report card, and my grades are low.” He says softly. He’s a bit sad, and for some reason, you feel upset.

“I can sign it for you, but why are your grades low?” You ask, looking at his report card. His math grade was dangerously close to failing, and his science grade wasn’t too high either.

“I fell behind.” He speaks quietly, ready for a scolding.

“I’ll sign your report card, but can you promise me something?” You ask, getting a pen ready.

“Mhm!” He lights up, a half-smile on his lips, still worried he’s about to get yelled at.

“If you need help, ask for it. There’s nothing wrong or unmanly about asking for help.” Quoting your boyfriend, you feel a bit silly. You sign off on his report card and hand it back to him, ruffling his hair.

“I have a study group you can come to if you want, you could meet Eijiro!” You know it’s probably a bit overwhelming to study with a bunch of high schoolers while being so young, but you’re positive Bakugou would help him out.

“Yes! I wanna go!” He smiles, vibrating with excitement.

On the day of the study group, Kirishima compliments you like he usually does. But being so focused on picking your brother up for the study group you space out.

“You’re so pretty, and wow red is so you’re color!” Kirishima comments, his favorite red sweater resting over your shoulders.

“What’d you do this time...” You freeze when you notice it’s Kirishima complimenting you instead of your younger brother.

“I just complimented you is all!” Kirishima smiles, his toothy grin making you smile as well. You hug him and laugh.

“I know, my brother tends to call me pretty when he gets into trouble. He’s coming to the study group tonight actually.”

“Awesome! wait you have a brother?” Kirishima’s excited, probably more excited to meet your brother than he is.

When you return with your brother and arrive at the study group, everyone is happy to meet him.

“This is Ei, my boyfriend.” You introduce your brother to Kirishima.

“What’s up, little man?!” Kirishima gives your brother a fist bump and smiles.

“I see why you chose him.” Your brother comments. You turn red, shaking his head.

“He’s about as red as you are!” Your brother teases you, poking fun at your blush. You sigh and sit down with him, showing him the basics.

“Bakugou can you help me with number four?” Your brother bravely approaches the blonde who isn’t exploding for once.

It’s the most calm you’ve seen Bakugou in a while. But your brother learns a lot from him, and from Kirishima. 

Kirishima loves your little brother and he’s happy he got to meet him.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

[shiversdownyerspine]

13. Affecting

Soon...kisses. Lip locking. SOON.

A couple of weeks pass after the reveal of your 2nd Phase and the acceptance of your request. And during that time the brothers make good on the agreement; they touch you, hands stroking your upper arm in greeting, lazily sweeping up and down your back, or simply resting a warm palm at your lower back when you linger a little too long in one spot.

With each passing day it gets harder and harder not to notice the sensual subtleties, not to mention the kisses don't stop either, lips pressing to cheek and shoulder and temple and forehead.

If you're in the kitchen baking, Axel will often be at your side. Whether sitting at the table or leaning back against the counter with cookbook in hand, you very much appreciate his quiet company and often return the favor when he cooks. The two of you have taken to discussing recipes and one day as you are busy preparing some chocolate croissants, he describes one familiar to him; Pirog, a baked good with savory filling.

The croissants were nearly ready for the oven, all that was left was one final pastry to prepare. Rolling the dough nice and tight to enclose the chocolate within, you muse aloud, "I've never made Pirog before, wonder what sort of filling would be good..."

The eldest brother takes a moment to consider before listing several, but according to him, "Fish is the best choice."

With a straight face you insist beef would be the better option, far more superior. And with little warning his heat was seeping into your back as his hands braced on the kitchen counter, arms either side of your body. Heartbeat quickening and ears reddening, you fumble with the pastry in your hands as he challenges your claim with a playful, "Is that so?"

Understandably a bit flustered, it takes you a second to successfully retort, "It would absolutely taste better, you just don't want to admit it."

Who knows, maybe you can goad Axel into making them.

The lighthearted bickering bounces back and forth until the warmth of his breath ghosts the shell of your ear. You hold strong, determined not to break but the brush of lips to your ear nearly makes you squeal.

The sound of the oven finishing its preheat cycle saves your skin.

Axel lifts the tray as his other hand leaves the curve of the counter to casually stroke up and down your side before he moves from you to pop the pastries in the oven. Immediately your hand is up and rubbing your sensitive ear, cursing the way it tingles. Taking a steadying breath, you still stumble over your own two feet as you go to grab up the mixing bowl and utensils for a good scrubbing.

Oscar sneaks up behind you like always, but he's started tugging you into him. The first few times his arms curl low around your belly and your back meets his chest, you're a bit tongue tied and bashful. But you don't want him to stop and it isn't long before you start leaning back into his hold. It becomes a part of his sneak routine and eventually it's not as startling as it used to be. It still has a high chance of pulling a gasp from you though, which you are highly suspecting he likes.

Sometimes when you're sitting on the sofa reading or watching television, the youngest brother would plop himself down on the carpet next to you. Curious you had considered asking if he wanted to join you on the furniture, but in the end decided not to. You figured if he wanted to, then he would. No need to ruin harmless fun.

And in the name of harmless fun, every now and then you would lightly nudge him with your leg, eyes riveted to your book and unmoving each time Oscar looks at you. It doesn't take long for him to wrap his arm around the offending leg, and satisfied with his capture, he'd lean his head back against the sofa cushion and rest his eyes. You do it again and again until eventually, he just starts automatically wrapping an arm around your leg whenever he sits with you.

Once while feeling mischievous, you had grabbed up a throw pillow as the urge to smack the catnapping man with it grew too tempting. The gentle pressure of a hand squeezing just above your knee had you glancing back with wide eyes to see him very much awake and watching you. The intensity of his gaze, the fixation, brought about this feeling. It was the same one you had when you'd sprayed Axel with the garden hose. You were once again on the verge of biting off more than you could chew.

Innocently you placed the pillow on your lap, using it to prop the book up a little higher. He gave you a suspicious squint before settling back down, leaning in and pressing his mouth to your leg with a smirk. It almost felt like he was daring you to do it, just to see what would happen.

Otto also likes to join you when you're on the sofa. One evening the large man brought out a small sewing kit and one of his shirts. Apparently he's the one that patches up all of their clothes when the need arises. He doesn't like throwing things out when they just need a little care.

Appreciating his resourcefulness, you mention that you'd tried your hand at patching up your own clothes in the past but you didn't quite have the patience for it and gave up fairly quickly. Subsequently, your request to watch actually had little to do with learning the skill and more with wanting to see how dexterous his hands are.

Otto shifts position so you could see better as you scoot in close. He works deftly with needle and thread, your eyes following the practiced motion of his fingers. As he tends to the stitches, he talks. His voice is a pleasant murmur as he explains that his brothers, much like you, haven't much patience for the skill either. They can do a little in a pinch but they wouldn't enjoy it.

You cheekily comment how easy it is to imagine the two; Axel scowling as he focuses on accomplishing the task as quickly as possible, tidy stitching be damned. Or Oscar's frustration growing, fit to burst as he pricks his finger for the umpteenth time. The descriptions tickle his funny bone, his smile growing until teeth glint and eyes crinkle. Shoulder to shoulder and knee to knee, you lean into Otto's side as the conversation eventually lulls into a comfortable silence, his warmth pulling you into a light doze.

Within a few more minutes the holes have been properly mended and the mender rubs his thumb over the line of stitches, content. When the tallest Swede softly calls your name, your response is a mumble, more of a sound than actual words. There's no other movement from you so he takes the chance to press a light kiss to your head, breathing in a whiff of your hair as he lets you nap and considers joining you.

Towards the end of the week as you're making a grocery list for a trip to the market, the Commission finally contacts the Swedes. Tapping the pen against your bottom lip, you and Axel contemplate your list of goods on the table below you, "Milk, eggs, bread..let's see...seasoning! How much black pepper do we have left?"

Axel inspects your spice rack with a critical eye, "...Won't last long, a week at most. Maybe."

The eldest Swede places the pepper back in its place before lifting a little corked jar beside it, "Cinnamon too."

As you are adding the crucial items while Otto alerts you to your pantry's dwindling supply of flour, the unexpected clatter inside your cabinet draws attention. Oscar retrieves the canister, rolling it down the kitchen counter to his brother before walking to you. With a grin he scoots you into Axel as he squeezes in on your other side, pressing his arm at your back to trap you between them.

Cheeks pink you toss a look at Oscar who is busy peering past you at the paper being examined by his older brother...but he isn't too busy to let his hand playfully squeeze your side apparently. Otto joins the three of you as Axel tilts the paper towards you for you to see as well, the message short and to the point. It reveals the usual; the date, the target, the co-ordinates, and the rendezvous point.

"So the access point is...the abandoned bus stop beside the forest? I forgot that little shack was still standing."

Otto nods, "We know it."

You respond, mildly surprised and a touch remorseful, "Oh, Commission dropped you all off down there? If I had known I would have gone out to meet you three when you first arrived."

Axel grunts, "Wasn't a far walk."

Smiling you nudge him with your hip, "Well, I hope it was a pleasant one."

Turning your attention back to your shopping list you reassure the three, "Alright I can finish up with this if you all want to start preparing for your mission, I figure you'd want to get to it. I don't have any deadlines to worry about for my work, but I doubt that's the same for you three."

The youngest Swede pouts, "You don't want to help? With guns?"

And just like that you're on edge, frowning as your body stiffens. Your silence lasts just a little too long.

"...That's..not my area of expertise."

Axel grimaces, peering at you closely, "Never learned? For protection?"

Remembering that the grocery list is in your hands, you restrain yourself from clenching them and crumpling it, "I already have a way to protect myself."

"You want to hide. A gun will give you another way to protect secret."

He has a point. A good point. Regardless you can't imagine holding a gun let alone firing one without your hands shaking like a leaf in a storm. You just can't. So, you try to compromise, "Maybe I could use one in the future. The far, far future."

Glowering at the table, Otto tries to recall a previous conversation. An old memory, a desperate kill..bullets and blood. Ah. You'd been shot, possibly repeatedly? The tallest Swede shares his conclusion, "You're afraid of guns."

With a sigh you shortly acknowledge it, "I have my reasons. Anyway, caring for your firearms is going to have to be solely your responsibility. Sorry to disappoint."

Lifting your grocery list up you consider any missing items you may have forgotten. Something is nipping at the back of your mind, something that had popped into your head after Oscar had gotten chased out into the garden by Otto and the two roughed each other up...Oh! Your eyes drift up to Axel.

"...How often do you three get injured? Or...smack each other around? Actually don't answer that, I'm going to go ahead and add some first aid on here."

You scribble it down, look at the scars on the two older brother's faces, and firmly circle it.

Yeah, that's going to be a priority.

[aethelflaedladyofmercia]

Holiday Feast (Good Omens Fic)

As part of @do-it-with-style-events Ineffable Gift exchange, a fanfic for @5ftjewishcactus who requested Ineffable Wives, South Downs cottage, Jewish Omens, Ace, and Crowley with chronic pain. I hope you like the result!

(Full fic available on AO3)

--

“Is that all of it?” Crowley asked, setting down the last bag of groceries and trying to discreetly rub the small of her back.

“Yes, I think so.” Aziraphale was already hard at work transforming the cottage kitchen into one of her trademark chaotic messes. The grocery bags were mixed with more bags from every curiosity shop and fancy boutique in the village, and the angel flitted from one to the next, tossing everything she needed—and a number of things she didn’t—onto the counter.

Flour, oil, eggs, yeast, sugar, butter, boxes, bags, jars of jam and honey. Over the next few hours, she would diligently transform the jumble of ingredients into an entirely different chaotic mess, spilled powders and broken shells and sticky finger marks on every surface. But while the kitchen became a nightmare, the dining room would be filled with latkes and sufganiyot, rugelach and knishes, kugel and challah and roasted chicken with matzo ball soup on the side.

Aziraphale adored holiday cooking, or really any excuse to cook, but she went really wild when she had a theme. She’d spent most of the last month hunting down every Jewish recipe she could find, planning a meal for the first night of Hanukkah that could have fed a dozen humans.

Of course, there weren’t a dozen humans coming, just one angel and one demon enjoying their blissful retirement, but Crowley didn’t mind. Everything the angel prepared with her own hands was delicious, brimming over with the taste of her love.

What she did mind was cleaning up afterwards. Miracles always missed something, so she’d have to spend half the night sweeping and scrubbing and mopping up spills, scouring the countertops before the detritus of cooking could turn hard and irremovable. Already she’d spent half the day dragging herself through shop after shop, trailing behind Aziraphale on her endless search for creative recipes and the perfect cheese and ever more useless kitsch to clutter up their home—

Taking a deep breath, Crowley pressed a little more firmly on the base of her spine. It made the sharp pinch worse, but the pressure lessened, the feeling that her pelvis was being crushed like a soda can. The tendons in her hips seemed stretched out, exhausted from hours of trying to angle her legs so she could approximate a regular human stride. Now there were pains shooting down her left thigh towards her knee, and the right felt as though someone had reached in and given everything a good twist.

But none of that was Aziraphale’s fault. She didn’t know Crowley had woken up today with her ever-present pain elevated from a two to a six. She didn’t know that the bench outside the market was too hard and made her legs cramp up worse. She didn’t know how every step for the last hour had felt like knives in her feet and legs and back.

And she wasn’t going to know.

Crowley pasted on her most brilliant smile and slid her arms around her wife’s waist, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “I’m gonna catch a few episodes of that Golden Girls marathon while you cook. Anything you need before I go?”

“No… no, I think this is everything.” She turned to give Crowley a quick peck at the corner of her mouth. “Thank you, dearest, for indulging me today. I’m afraid I did get rather carried away.”

“Nah. How did we ever survive without angel salt and pepper shakers? Or a dozen felted sheep?” One more kiss to her angel’s head and Crowley turned gratefully towards the sofa and at least an hour of blissful boneless sprawl–

“Oh! I almost forgot. Can you get down the menorah and candles? I can set them up in the dining room while the dough rises.”

Biting back a groan, Crowley glared at the far wall, counting to ten to keep the annoyance out of her voice. She didn’t quite succeed. “What’s wrong with the four you bought today?”

“Crowley! Be serious. I can’t use a menorah made from a plastic dinosaur for the actual candle-lighting. We’ll need the proper hanukkiyah, that nice silver one. It’s on the bottom shelf. And make sure you get those new blue candles.”

“Ffffffffffine.” She turned stiffly and smiled. “Love you, Angel.”

But Aziraphale was already busy spilling flour everywhere. “Love you too, dearest.”

The little pantry stood between the kitchen and the living room, with food and collectibles and books shoved in every cupboard with absolutely no rhyme or reason. The menorahs were, indeed, tucked in the corner of a bottom shelf in one of the cupboards under the counter. But, because the universe never failed to give Crowley a hard time, the candles were on a shelf well over her head.

She glared up at them, at least a dozen boxes lying on their sides, trying to pick out the one with blue candles. Probably that one on the left.

It would be easier to crouch down and get out the menorah. Might even feel good. But then she’d never want to stand again. Just curl up on the cool floor…

“For Sssomeone’ss sssake!” she hissed at herself impatiently. “Jussst get the damn box and get it over with.”

As soon as she lifted her arm, she felt the muscle tugging back to her spine, adding a little bit extra to the day’s pain. It was fine, though. Fine. She braced her other hand on the countertop, rose up on her toes, and stretched out, reaching—

The pain in her back flared, a line of fire briefly racing from knee to shoulder—

“Fuck!”

(Read the rest on AO3)

[lovcyme]

Hi, can I request a platonic Ciel x Reader where the reader acts as a parental figure towards him? I'd love to see how he reacts when the reader is exposed to danger and gets fatally injured :D Have a nice day !!! 🐦🙏

Hi anon! Yes, thank you so much for requesting this !! I love Ciel with a platonic reader 💙💙 I love you for sending this request so much !! AHH

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Pairing: Ciel x Platonic!Reader

TW: Abuse, Kidnapping

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The Earl of Phantomhive was stone cold on the outside. The trauma of his past changing his once soft and gentle look. Until he met someone who took his parents' place in their absence. Though he couldn't admit it in front of anyone.

"Ciel, dear, would you like any sweets to accompany you while doing your work?" They gently said. Sebastian was doing his household duties as [ Name ] was attending to Ciel. The boy looks at them with such admiration. They were also so gentle, so warm, it made his heart melt. He adored them so much it was almost impossible.

"Yeah, cake would do." the bluenette replied. "I'll be back to retrieve it for you then." they smile. A smile so kind it was almost unreal how much love they had for the boy.

Walking out of the study to the kitchen, they come across the head butler, Sebastian. "Ah, [ Name ], where are you off to?" the butler inquires. "Just to make a small dessert for the Young Master." They reply. Sebastian nods and hums in return, allowing their colleague to do as ordered.

As they reached the kitchen, they look for the necessary ingredients. However, they realize that some ingredients were missing. They sigh, knowing they forgot to do grocery shopping 2 days prior. They decide to run back to Ciel's study and informed the Earl of the sudden need to do grocery shopping. Ciel sighs knowing he won't get to taste their delicious desserts for a while. He allows them to go as he orders Sebastian to make afternoon tea.

...

The [ hair color ] haired housekeeper made their way into town. They exit the carriage they were on and walked to the town market. They purchased the necessary needs, not missing a single one. Flour, eggs, cocoa powder, sugar, etc.

They were now walking back towards their carriage. Unbeknownst to the danger awaiting them. They were only meters away from their carriage, but, they were held back and a piece of cloth restrained them from making any noises. That was all they remembered before everything went black.

...

Ciel became uneasy in his study. It was past 6pm. 'Where could [ Name ] have gone?' he thought to himself. Feeling worried, he approached Sebastian. "What is it, Young Master?" his butler asks. "It's past 6pm and [ Name ] isn't home yet. They've been gone for approximately 3 hours almost 4." Ciel says in a stoic manner but he was very worried. Sebastian brings his hand to his chin before checking his pocket watch. "You're right, My Lord. Perhaps we should-" but before the raven butler could continue, the house maid, Mey-Rin, came running. With a letter in hand she says, "Sebastian!! I found a letter!!"

"Letter? Addressed to whom?" Sebastian inquires. Mey-Rin comes to a stop in front of the Master-Butler duo while panting. "Addressed to the Young Master." she said between breaths.

Ciel takes the letter and after reading it, his face was visible with anger. "What is it Young Master?" Sebastian asks, curious. "Some dirty bastards have their filthy hands on [ Name ]. They're holding them hostage for a ransom." Ciel says in a dark tone. Sebastian stares at his master with a straight face. "And? What do you plan to do, Young Master?" He says in a monotonous, almost dark tone.

...

Quiet sobs were heard in a dark chamber. Along with the disgusting laughter of filthy men. The men kicked and punched the Phantomhive housekeeper as they groan in pain. They had been covered in wounds, their clothes ripped, basically their appearance was not presentable anymore. They only hoped the Young Master wouldn't get involved.

"Aye boss! The Phantomhive kid came!" One of the men says. [ Name ] eyes widen both in shock and fear. They feared their master would get hurt because of them and they didn't want that. Ciel walked in the room they were in and was immediately filled with rage seeing their state. "I don't think the ransom you asked for is sufficient enough seeing as you put my housekeeper in this state." Ciel says calmly, but anger was written all over his face. "Either way, we don't care. You're defenseless now little lad. Now give the money or else you'll get hurt." says the leader of the group. "We've got you in a corner, brat!" one of them spat. Ciel simply smiled maliciously and chuckled. "'You've got me'? I think you've swapped our roles here. Clearly, I've got you." the earl says. "What do you mean by that!? Acting cocky are we brat?" One of them grabs Ciel's collar and brought him close in an attempt to scare him. "Heh, you surely have the guts to place your filthy hands on the Queen's watchdog." "Why you-!" the man raises his fist to punch the boy, but was tackled back instead. "Wh- what the-" the other men said. "Sorry to disappoint you gentlemen, but you filthy rats have no right to hurt my kin." Ciel said almost maliciously and dangerously.

They were blacked out and the last thing they remember was Ciel's words. (^) They awoke at your room and was greeted with Ciel's smile. "I'm so glad you're awake." he says about to embrace [ Name ] until he remembered that they were injured. "Ciel, you didn't have to come sweetie." [ Name ] says while caressing the boy's cheeks gently. "Well I couldn't just sit idly by knowing you were possibly hurt." Ciel says avoiding eye contact. He'd never shown anyone his vulnerability except for Sebastian so it was embarrassing to show it towards them. It touched [ Name ]'s heart how caring Ciel is. "You're too sweet, dear." the [ hair color ] haired housekeeper said smiling sweetly as they sit up. While they sat up, Ciel was worried they were in pain "H-hey don't overexert yourself. Lay down." He says, clearly worried. "I'm fine dear, a pity I couldn't make the cake for you though." [ Name ] says in a daze. "Save it for next time, you need rest." And with that, Ciel was always by their side. They felt safe with him and that's all that mattered.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Whew, took long. This was enjoyable to write tysm anon <33 I hope you liked it more than I did

[cali-holland]

Our Place- Harrison Osterfield One Shot

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield X Reader

Requested by Anonymous: Okay so we got Tom Holland x reader domestic moments. But can we possibly get Harrison Osterfield domestic moments...?????👉👈

Prompt: You and Harrison buy a house together, much to the other boys’ dismay.

Word Count: 5700

Warnings: some sexual jokes/themes, swearing, Harrison lowkey being a bad driver, this is as fluffy as cotton candy

Masterlist   Harrison Osterfield Masterlist

*Pic is not mine*

~~~

“I can’t believe you’re actually leaving us.” Tom huffed as he picked up one end of the bed frame.

“We won’t even be that far away.” Harrison laughed, holding up the other end and helping him move it out of the room. 

“Sorry, Tom, I’m stealing him.” You smiled innocently as you watched Harrison slowly walk the frame backwards down the staircase.

“I don’t get it. You stay here almost every night.” Tom pointed out to you.

“It was my idea.” Your boyfriend piped up as you opened the door for them.

“Yeah, so don’t blame me.” You added. Harrison blew you a kiss while he passed you, walking the bed frame outside with Tom. You shut the front door behind them and returned to Harrison’s room- well, technically his former room.

You and Harrison had been together for three years, and every moment you spent with him was incredible, he was incredible. For the past several months, you spent a lot of your time at his place. Part of it was that the other boys were far more enjoyable to be around than your actual roommates. So when he realized your apartment lease was expiring soon, he asked you to move in with him. Of course, you said yes, but then he started looking at apartments and even houses, somewhere for you two to call home, the perfect Osterfield-Y/L/N residence. You went out a couple of times to look at some open houses together, but nothing seemed right. Just a week before your lease ended (so last week), Harrison found the perfect house for the two of you and you both managed to sign the lease. Today was the big moving day. You had brought all of the stuff from your apartment already to the new place (since your apartment was already furnished when you got it and couldn’t take a lot of the things), so now it was time to move all of Harrison’s stuff out.

“How’s the dresser coming?” Harry asked, stepping into Harrison’s room to grab the nightstand.

“He’s got so many clothes, it’s unbelievable.” You joked, even though a portion of the clothes in the dresser were yours, as you put the last drawer of his clothes into a box.

“Dresser, ready?” Sam came into the room next and Harry nodded.

“You two got it?” You asked, looking at them skeptically as they picked up the heavy, tall dresser.

“Yeah, definitely.” The curly haired twin reassured you. They barely made it out of the room before pausing.

“Right, so Tom and Haz got the dresser.” Sam said, stepping back into the room.

“I won’t say no to a good gun show.” You laughed.

“What? Were we not good enough?” Harry looked at you in faux offense while his twin jokingly flexed his guns.

“Grab the nightstands.” You instructed before picking up the box of clothes and making your way out of the room with the twins following you. You three met Tuwaine at the bottom of the stairs as he held a box of Harrison’s kitchenware labeled ‘fragile’.

“Look, we can all go together.” Tuwaine let out a laugh. You opened the front door and made your way outside, leading the other three boys on the sidewalk to your new house.

Oh yeah, that perfect house Harrison found? Well, it was literally three houses over, so it made the move easier. You did feel a little bad for the neighbors stuck in between, knowing that the boys would get up to some sort of chaos involving the neighborhood now and not just their house.

“Hey, stranger.” Harrison greeted you at the doorstep of your new home.

“You two get to bring over the dresser.” You informed him and he gave you a short but sweet kiss before he and Tom left for another round of moving furniture.

“How much more stuff does he have?” Sam let out a whine as he and Harry continued following you to the master bedroom, Tuwaine ducking out to the kitchen with his box.

“Well, there’s probably four or five boxes left from his room and then there’s the mattress, bookcase, desk, and TV that we need to get.” You explained, mentally going back to his bedroom. You smiled to yourself as you saw his bed frame (though it didn’t have the mattress there yet) pushed up against the wall, right underneath the window. You were really moving in with Harrison. This was real.

“Then we have to build stuff.” Harry added, putting down the nightstand beside the bed frame. “What time was Paddy supposed to come help?”

“He was supposed to come?” His twin asked with raised eyebrows, setting down the nightstand next to the bed. “I knew he was faking sick.”

“Well, he’s not here, so let’s just keep moving.” You laughed at them, both of them suddenly offended that their younger brother had dipped out on helping today. Honestly, you were just appreciative of the fact that they were all helping; it moved the process along a lot faster than if it was just you and Harrison. “Now, come on, we’ve still got more to bring over.”

A few more trips down and the six of you took a short lunch break in the boys’ kitchen (since you didn’t really have a table or food at your new place). After that, it was time for you all to start building and unpacking things.

“What kind of instructions are these?” Harrison questioned, looking between the paper and the disassembled entertainment center in front of him.

“We don’t need those. It’s just a matching game.” Tom insisted, picking up a couple pieces of wood and trying to see how they fit together. “I was a carpenter, I know how to do this.”

“I don’t think you do.” You shook your head at him as your boyfriend handed you the instructions.

“Y/N, do you want us to set up the table?” Harry asked and you nodded.

“If you don’t mind, that and the chairs. It’d be nice to have somewhere to sit.” You laughed.

“Got it.” He replied, heading to the other room with Tuwaine and Sam to step up the dining table.

“Okay, so I think this goes first.” You started to help Harrison and Tom with the entertainment center, understanding the confusing instructions (for the most part).

“I am Thor, the mighty God of thunder.” Tom did his best Chris Hemsworth impression, swinging the regular hammer in his hands. You and your boyfriend just looked at each other and sighed, maybe giving Tom a weapon was a bad idea. It was definitely a bad idea as he tried to hammer in a nail and hit Harrison’s thumb instead.

“Hey, don’t go for the thumb, dumbass!” He shouted.

“This is going to be a long day.” You laughed.

“Kiss it and make it better?” Harrison held out his red thumb to you. You rolled your eyes at him before planting a kiss to his finger.

By the end of the day, your house was coming together. The living room was set up with a tv, entertainment center, coffee table, couch, and armchair; the kitchen still needed some unpacking to be done, but at least the silverware, plates, bowls, and cups were put away; the dining room had a proper table in it, complete with a few chairs; the spare room, which you had both decided to just make it an office and use it for storage, had the desk in it and a few random boxes; and your bedroom had, well, the bed and a dresser, a couple nightstands, and a bookcase. There were no decorations up yet, but it definitely felt like home now and you couldn’t be happier.

“What time is it?” You groaned, trying to hide your face further in Harrison’s neck the next morning, hoping it’d drown out the bright sun rays streaming into the bedroom.

“Too early.” He whined, eyes still shut tight as his hand caressed your back lightly.

“We need blinds. Add that to the list.” Your voice was muffled by shoulder, but he let out a laugh and you knew he’d heard you. You lifted your head up to look at your boyfriend and he blinked his eyes open to see you, both of you still hazy from sleep.

“Well, at least we know our room gets sunlight.” He laughed and leaned in to give you a kiss. When he pulled away from the kiss, his sleepy blue eyes looking into yours, “What do you want for breakfast?”

“Muffins?” You suggested, thinking a poppyseed muffin sounded pretty good.

“I don’t think we have muffin tins.” He said, furrowing his eyebrows together. “Shit, wait, we don’t have any food here.” You both let out matching groans; yesterday, you’d been so caught up in just moving furniture and essentials in that you forgot about the biggest essential- food. Besides like a few snacks and some cooking things, like flour and spices, your kitchen was empty.

“So, we’re going out for breakfast.” You laughed.

“Better get cleaned up then because I’m hungry.” Harrison let out a loud sigh followed by a yawn as you two got out of bed.

“After breakfast, guess we’re going grocery shopping?” You offered with a laugh, grabbing your phone from the nightstand. You pulled up your notes tab, adding “blinds/curtains” to your list of things to buy. Furnishing a house was decently expensive, and it seemed like a good amount of things neither of you thought of until you needed them. 

“Or we could go to the store to get the blinds and whatever else we need, and then go grocery shopping last? So nothing perishes?” He suggested, grabbing a couple towels from the linen cabinet and putting them on the hooks near the shower.

“That’s true.” You nodded, making a mental note of that.

“We need bath rugs.” He stated as he turned on the shower, letting the water warm up. You added it to your list- neither of you had really brought much in the way of bathroom supplies. You felt Harrison wrap his arms around your waist and he started to kiss the sweet spot on your neck gently. You laughed lightly as you felt him begin to leave a hickey.

“Get off me, you leech. I just got rid of that giant one from last week.” You elbowed him a little, feeling him start to suck harder.

“Exactly why I’ve got to leave another one.” He replied, lifting his head off your neck to present you with his work. He smiled like a little kid showing off his painting.

“Time to test out the new shower?” You teased and he hummed in agreement.

“Gotta make sure we didn’t waste our money on this place.” He joked. You set your phone back down on the counter and followed him into the shower to “test” it out.

~~~

“How’s your muffin?” Harrison asked before eating his own muffin while stopped at a red light. Neither of you really wanted to stop and eat breakfast in public, so eating while he was driving to your first store of the day was completely safe, right?

“Delicious.” You smiled, holding it out for him to take a bite. As he did so, the light turned green and he started to go, lightly pushing away your hand while he chewed, crumbs tumbling everywhere. “This poor BMW’s getting so mistreated.”

“I’ll vacuum it out.” He replied through a mouthful of your muffin.

“Damn it, we need a vacuum.” You sighed, grabbing out your phone again to add that to the list.

“That was an amazing muffin.” He smiled once he had finished eating that bite.

“Let me try yours.” He held it out to you, not really looking at his hand nor his muffin as he tried to focus on driving- luckily it was just a straight line. You took a bite out of it before he ate some more himself. You did a quick chef’s kiss, he had a good muffin, too.

By the time you two got to the store, you’d both finished your breakfasts and walked hand-in-hand towards the entrance. Harrison started making a beeline to his favorite shoe store right next to it, but you tugged him back.

“We need home improvement stuff, not shoes.” You teased him.

“But they’ll improve our home.” He insisted with a small whine, even though he knew he didn’t need more shoes. That boy had more pairs of shoes than you did; the shoe rack you two had bought only fit his shoes (so he bought a second one for yours).

You made your way into the store, seeking out the items on your list. Harrison grabbed a cart and pushed it with one hand, his other still holding onto yours, while your free hand held your phone so you could view your list.

“We need a vacuum.” You pointed over to the aisle that had the cleaning supplies and the two of you made your way over there.

“Are we going for the cheapest vacuum? I don’t really know a good vacuum.” Harrison admitted, leaning on the cart as you both eyed the selection in front of you.

“We had this one at my old place. It worked well.” You said, pointing to a grey and purple vacuum.

“I honestly can’t tell you if the boys and I even owned a vacuum. I think we just borrowed from Tom’s mum.” He laughed sheepishly.

“You did because I’ve used it.” You shook your head at him, “So this one?”

“Yeah, easy enough.” He nodded, grabbing the box and setting it in the cart.

“And we need a lamp.” You said, nodding over to the lamps the next aisle over.

“For what?” He asked.

“The living room.” You replied and a look of recognition crossed his face.

“Right. The lighting’s shit in there.” He followed you over to the lamps.

After picking out a lamp that looked like it would go nice enough in your living room, you two went off to the kitchen section. You searched for a muffin tin while he looked for a paper towel holder one aisle over. You smiled happily when you found a pack of a few muffin tins (ya know, in case you feel like making several batches). As you made your way around the corner, you heard Harrison laughing down the other aisle; it almost sounded like he was uncomfortable. You made your way into the aisle and saw that there was another girl down there with him. You refrained from laughing as she was obviously trying to flirt with your poor boyfriend who just wanted to find a paper towel holder.

“Got the muffin tin. Did you get the holder, baby?” You announced your presence, putting the pack of tins in the cart and casually slipping your arm around his waist. Harrison knew exactly what you meant by calling him ‘baby’, the pet name reserved for when you’re jealous or trying to get something out of him.

“Yep, does this work, sweetheart?” He asked, picking up the holder that was in the cart. ‘Sweetheart’ was his pet name, turned codename, for when he was jealous or just trying to match your jealousy’. The other girl slowly left the aisle without another word and he laughed lightly, lowering his voice, “Baby? Were you jealous?”

“Nope. I had to establish my dominance and rescue you from that somehow.” You teased, wrapping your arms around his neck and smiling up at him.

“My hero.” He laughed, leaning down to kiss you. You two continued your journey to find more items from your list. Just as you both were passing by the decor section, something caught your eye.

“This is so cheesy, but really cute.” You pointed out, pulling him over to it. It was one of those large world map shaped cork boards that you could pin a picture to, showing all your different travels together. Considering you two had traveled to several different countries together, it’d be cute to have it.

“Wanna get it?” Harrison asked, picking it up off the shelf as you two inspected it some more.

“Do you think it’d go well in the living room?” You inquired, trying to picture where you could put it.

“Or our room.” He added, setting it in the cart. As you two looked through some more decorations, he said definitively, “Next year, I’m taking you to Paris.”

“I don’t even get a say in where we’ll go?” You teased, looking over at him as he held up an artsy framed photograph of the Eiffel Tower.

“Are you going to say no to Paris? Think of all the croissants we could eat.”

“They’d kick us out because you’d eat all of them.” You laughed, poking him in the stomach before looking at some more wall art.

“We should get a houseplant.” He suggested as he put the Paris picture back.

“I feel like we’d kill it.”

“We definitely would, but at least we can say we tried.”

Over an hour later, you two had basically everything needed for your new home together, including a houseplant that would probably be dead in a week. You’d bought enough stuff that his car was too full to fit any groceries, meaning you had to make a pitstop back home and unload everything- plus Harrison had stopped at his shoe store and bought another pair because “they were on sale!”.

“What playlist are you on?” You asked as you two got settled back in his car, ready to go out to the grocery store after having unloaded all the stuff from your previous trip. You were starting to grow bored of the random playlist he’d left his phone on, a.k.a. the music that was basically your radio for the car ride.

“I don’t know.” Harrison shrugged, taking out his phone and handing it over to you. You took his phone, replacing it with your hand, intertwining your fingers together. As he started to drive, he pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. You laughed as you saw his lock screen- it was a picture of the two of you from over two years ago when you both were bored, taking the ugliest selfies possible. You were cross eyed, sticking your tongue out while squeezing his cheeks together while he made a ridiculous duck face. It was a joke picture, meant for just the two of you, and even if you knew he hadn’t changed it in ages, it still meant a lot to you to see it.

“What are you laughing at?” He asked, looking over at you briefly with a smile.

“Your lock screen.” You answered, unlocking his phone and pulling up Spotify to change playlists.

“I need to change it.”

“Why? It’s cute.” You laughed at the outdated photo as you scrolled through the music selection.

“Because you don’t have me as your lock screen.” He said teasingly.

“Not true!” You protested, even though you both knew your lock screen wasn’t him. It was a photo of Monty, smiling at your camera. Technically, Harrison was in it; it was just his hand though. You didn’t purposefully cut him out of the picture, he was just there to keep his dog still. Besides, before that it was a picture of Harrison getting licked in the face by Monty and that was your lock screen for over a year. In your defense though, your current home screen was a picture of the two of you watching the sunset on a beach in Atlanta that Harry had taken. You were tucked into his lap, your head nestled back on his shoulder and he leaned his head against yours. Your faces were obscured since the photo was taken from behind, but you knew both of you were smiling in pure happiness.

“Let me see it then. The photo of Monty doesn’t count.” Damn, he knew your phone too well.

“You’re driving.” You said, moving your phone away from the center console before he could attempt at grabbing it. You found your favorite playlist, appropriately titled “Music That Makes Me Cringe But Y/N Likes Them- Don’t Play This One, I’m Begging You Sweetheart”, and looked through to find a good song to start it on.

“Don’t even-” Harrison started, knowing that look on your face, knowing you’d gone onto that playlist. You smirked, clicking on a song title, hearing the familiar 80’s techno tune begin. He let out a groan, but, as much as he pretended to hate the playlist, you knew he loved it.

“We’re not strangers to love, you know the rules and so do I, a full commitment that’s what I’m thinking of,” You sang along to the famous Rick Astley song.

“Yeah, a full commitment of living with you now.” He teased.

“C’mon, Haz,” You laughed as the song got to the chorus.

“Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and desert you, never gonna make you cry, never gonna say goodbye, never gonna tell a lie and hurt you,” You both sang along to the cheesy song.

“Can’t believe you rickrolled me.” He shook his head in disbelief.

“You knew it was coming.” You picked up your intertwined hands and kissed the back of his hand.

“You’re not allowed to play that song at our wedding.”

“Oh, we’re getting married now? I don’t see a ring.” You jokingly inspected your left hand.

“I can change that if you want me to.” He laughed, but you knew he was still serious. You two had talked about marriage, but agreed to wait until you were a little older, a little more settled into your careers- that didn’t stop either of you from those jokes.

“You ready for the next song?” You smirked as you looked at the queue.

“If you play-” He started, looking over at you since he was now stopped at a red light.

“Somebody once told me the world is gonna roll me, I ain’t the sharpest tool in the shed,” You sang along passionately to the song as it started, and he playfully rolled his eyes at you.

“This is what I signed up to live with?” He laughed and you pouted.

“You’re acting like you haven’t put up with me for three years.” You teased. His eyes flickered back to the light, making sure it was still red before leaning over the console to kiss you. It was cut short by the car behind you honking, signaling to the two of you that the light was definitely green now. As Harrison continued to drive, you went back to your phone, trying to discreetly change your background to prove that it was him and not just Monty. Really, your lock screen was his fault because he was the one with the insanely cute dog. You had a lot of pictures of your boyfriend (naturally, he was so photogenic) so it was hard to find just one to use- another reason why it easier to just use an adorable photo of Monty.

You came across one specific picture that you loved from Halloween last year when you two dressed up as Brad and Angelina in Mr. and Mrs. Smith. You were in the elevator of some hotel in New York (you weren’t even sure why you were there) and you two were doing the back-to-back serious pose as he took the picture via the floor length mirror. You two were both half drunk so it didn’t come out as impressive as when Brad and Angelina did the pose, but it was still one of your favorites photos. Just as you were fitting it to your background, Harrison spoke up, “You’re changing it, aren’t you?”

“Eyes on the road, mister!” You exclaimed and he just laughed at you.

“Leave it as Monty, I know how much you love that picture of my hand.” He said, stopping at another red light.

“You have very nice hands, but I changed it anyway.” You turned your phone to show him your new lock screen and he nodded approvingly.

“Ah yes, drunk assassins.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Can you play “My Girl”?”

“I’ll never say no to The Temptations.” You laughed, starting the classic song from his phone. You both danced along to the smooth beat of the song (you more so than him because he was driving still).

“I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day, when it’s cold outside, I’ve got the month of May, well I guess you’d say, what can make me feel this way?” You both sang the beginning of the song. Harrison leaned over closer to you, doing his best to balance between singing to you and being a good driver.

“My girl, my girl, my girl, talkin’ ‘bout my girl,” He nodded his head along to the beat, pressing a kiss to your hand.

“You cheeseball,” You teased while he kept singing the song. “This one’s our wedding song.”

“Of course it is. Were you questioning that?” He joked. You pulled out your phone, deciding to film him continuing to sing the song.

“I don’t need no money, fortune, or fame,” He sent a look over to the camera as you stifled a laugh, “I’ve got all the riches, baby, one man can claim. I guess you’d say, what can make me feel this way? My girl, my girl, my girl, talkin’ ‘bout my girl,” He blew a kiss at the camera and you stopped the video. You laughed as you saved it, posting it to your Instagram story with the caption: ‘Look at my cheeseball’.

He continued to drive while you checked out your Instagram feed. You laughed to yourself, seeing a fan account’s meme of him and Monty (yes, you followed a few fan accounts because the things they’d say sometimes were hilarious). You liked the post and sent it to Harrison’s Instagram; his phone dinged loudly, cutting off the music momentarily.

“Did you send me something?” He asked as you looked at his phone in your lap.

“I didn’t know you had notifications on.” You laughed, not expecting his phone to alert him, especially of an Instagram dm.

“I only have them on for you.” He admitted, a small blush creeping onto his cheeks. You smiled, reaching over and pinching his cheek lightly.

“Aw, I’ve got you so whipped.”

“What if I got a motorcycle?” Harrison asked, looking at the motorcyclist in front of him.

“I don’t know. I’d say you’re pretty hot without one, but if it’s an excuse to see you in a leather jacket then,” You trailed off, before adding, “Your mum would probably kill you for that though.”

“You’re not wrong.” He laughed in acknowledgment. She definitely would not appreciate it if he got a motorcycle, but you and Harrison both knew he’d never actually buy one. Even though he ate in his car a good amount of time, it was still his baby and he loved it too much to trade it in.

Just as he parked the car in front of the store, you got a text from your own mother, reminding you of your cousin’s baby shower tomorrow- a.k.a. giving you a day to find a gift. You were in perfect luck that there was literally a kids’ clothing store right beside the grocery store.

“I need to get something for my cousin’s baby shower.” You told Harrison before either of you could get out of the car.

“Do I need to go to that?” He asked, eyes wide. He had plans to go golfing tomorrow with Tom- or at least, he’d make those plans if he needed to.

“What? No, it’s kind of girls only.” You shook your head, “Can we go next door really fast before we get groceries? I just need to get a couple onesies or something.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” The two of you got out of the car and made your way over to the baby store in search of a quick gift. Your cousin was having a boy so you had a decently good idea of what to get. You easily found some simple baby shoes at the front, not putting much thought into it.

“Look at this one! It even has a cape.” Harrison grinned happily, holding up a black onesie that had yellow print on it saying ‘my daddy is Batman’ and showing you the little cape attached to it.

“Haz, we’ve been through this. Her husband’s a Superman fan.” You reminded him. The first time he’d met her husband, the two had a heated discussion about if Superman or Batman was better and you swore your 21 year old (at the time) boyfriend turned into a geeky 12 year old.

“Wel, I’m physically incapable of buying a Superman onesie. I’m getting this.” He insisted, and you looked at him with raised eyebrows. “For our kid.”

“I’d need to be pregnant for that to even be reasonable, and that’s not gonna be for a while.” You laughed at his ridiculousness.

“You’re right. My pullout game’s too strong for that.” He winked and you rolled your eyes at him, hoping none of the other customers in the store heard that. He still held onto the onesie, fully intending on buying it and holding onto it until you two had kids.

“How about this?” You asked, showing him a pack of onesies that had Justice League prints.

“It’s your cousin, you know that, right?” He chuckled with a nod.

“You’re seriously buying that one?” You looked down at the Batman onesie still clutched in his hands.

“Of course. I’m not saying I’m Batman, but you’ve never seen me and Batman in the same room together.” Harrison stated.

“If that helps you sleep at night.” You laughed, grabbing the Justice League onesies and going to the counter. Harrison happily added the Batman onesie to the small pile.

With the baby shower gift all sorted, you two went into the grocery store, shopping up and down the aisles for basically everything- milk, cereal, freezer food, fruits, vegetables, meat, bread. It wasn’t until the two of you were already in line to checkout that you realized you were missing the muffin mix- the most important thing for your mornings.

“I forgot the muffin mix.” You let out a small sigh, stepping back from the cart to go grab it, but Harrison stopped you.

“I got it. You stay here.” He reassured you, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before leaving off to get some mix. The next customer left and it was your turn to checkout so you loaded up your items onto the conveyor belt.

“This is the fullest cart I’ve seen all day. I’m impressed.” The cashier laughed as he started to scan the items.

“I’ve got a whole kitchen to stock.” You replied with a smile.

“Looks like you’ve got the essentials.” He nodded towards the wine and beer still resting on the belt.

“Of course.” You started to wonder when Harrison would come back with the muffin mix. You couldn’t tell if the cashier was trying to (pathetically) flirt with you or just being extra friendly, but you could’ve sworn he winked at you. 

“Three boxes of muffin mix, sweetheart.” Harrison said, rushing up to you and dropping them onto the conveyor belt. Obviously, he’d noticed that wink, and his own little hint of jealousy was kicking in.

“Thanks, baby.” You smiled at him and he not-so-discreetly wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pressed a kiss to your temple. Before you could pull out your wallet to pay, Harrison stopped you.

“I got it, sweetheart.” It took everything in you to not roll your eyes at his behavior, but you enjoyed it. Seeing your boyfriend get protective over you for something that wasn’t that big of a deal was oddly reassuring; you had him so whipped and he had you so whipped.

When the cashier had finished, Harrison paid and the two of you went on your way back out to his car. With the groceries loaded into the trunk, you both got into the car and he started to drive off, his hand slipping into yours on the center console. A Bon Jovi song played from his phone, the same cringey playlist turned on.

An hour later, you two had finally gotten home and packed away the groceries before you lied down on your new couch, completely exhausted from your busy weekend.

“God, no one said moving into a house was this much work.” You groaned and Harrison came to lie down beside you on the couch, his arms around your waist as your hands softly played in his hair that tickled the back of his neck.

“I’m so glad we did this though.” He told you with a genuine smile.

“I’m glad we did, too.” You leaned in and kissed him. You tugged lightly on his hair, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue finding its way to yours. He shifted so you were lying on your back and he kept one hand by your head to keep him up, the other hand slipping under your shirt. His lips trailed down to your collarbone, going to leave another hickey.

“I swear I moved in with a vampire.” You said almost breathlessly and he laughed lightly on your skin.

“What do you say we test out this couch?” He looked down at you with a cheeky grin.

“I’d ask what if someone walks in, but this is our place.”

“Mhm, our place.” He leaned back down to keep kissing you. Before the kiss could go much further, the front door opened and Tom, Harry, and Tuwaine walked in. Harrison didn’t even move from his place on top of you as he shot a glare towards his friends.

“What? We miss you.” Tom pouted as Harry held up a football as a peace offering.

“So much for our place.” You laughed, getting up off the couch with Harrison. You’d definitely need to take that spare key back from Tom.

[hxney-lemcn]

Ben The Friendly Ghost — Ben Hargreeves x fem! reader

Summery: On a shopping trip, reader meets a friend.

tw: one curse word

wc: 0.5k

Main Master List | TUA Master List

I walked around the grocery store checking off each item I put in my cart. 

Milk Eggs Flour Butter Sugar Chocolate Chips

All I need now is chocolate chips. I was going to make cookies when I get home so this was something I definitely needed. I walked down the aisle and looked at the different brand. I didn’t notice that a pack of chocolate chips was about to fall and hit me in the head until I saw it floating above me. I looked up with wide eyes as it mysteriously was placed back on the shelf more safely. 

A mother and her kid stood there staring at me with wide eyes. 

“Mommy mommy!” The kid shouted tugging at his mother’s skirt. “She has powers! Did you see that?” 

“O-oh,” I stuttered slightly still not being able to comprehend what just happened. “I-I didn’t-” 

Before I could explain myself the mother rushed her child away. Great. In such a small town, word spreads like wildfire. I know this is going to haunt me. I got the last thing on my list and made my way home.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☂

Klaus couldn’t help but laugh at his brother’s predicament. 

“Stop laughing,” Ben groaned, not wanting to deal with this. 

“S-so your just going to...what?” Klaus asked, stopping to laugh a bit more. “Follow her around?”

“What else am I supposed to do?” Ben asked defensively. “I can’t just leave her to look like a fool!” 

“Does someone have a crush?” Klaus said in a sing songy voice. 

“Shut up,” Ben mumbled looking away with a slight blush. 

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☂

“Hey!” Someone shouted at me causing me to look their way. “You’re that person with powers! Can you lift that?” I was baby sitting some kids at the moment and it was obvious that they were friends with that kid from the grocery store. 

“Uhm, about that,” I smiled awkwardly. Yet before I could continue it floated up slowly and then gently went back down. My eyes widened and the two kids marveled at what happened. Did I do that? No way...I couldn’t have powers! 

For some reason it almost felt like someone was following me when no one was there. I couldn’t explain it. I have no clue what’s happening and I don’t know if I want to know.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☂

“I feel bad for her,” Ben sighed out.

“Why?” Klaus asked from his lounged position.

“She makes such a confused face whenever I make something float, I mean it’s adorable, but I want to explain what’s going on,” Ben explained. 

“Then tell her dumbass,” Klaus groans. He loves his brother, don’t get him wrong, but all he talks about is this girl he’s following and he just wants the best for Ben.

“I can’t,” Ben replied wondering if Klaus forgot he was a ghost. 

“You can write, can’t you?” Klaus replied raising an eyebrow. For once Ben had a way of communicating with the living.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☂

I was just sitting down in my room listening to my favorite songs when the weirdest thing happened. I mean people thinking you have powers when you don’t is weird already but this. 

A notebook came floating towards me and something took the pen on my desk that I was sitting at. Then the notebook opened and whatever force was here started writing to me. If all this strange stuff wasn’t happening to me, I would’ve though I was going insane.

Hello, I don’t mean to scare you but I just wanted to explain why all those weird things are happening.

My eyes widened and I sat up straight. “C-can you hear me?” I asked and then face palmed because I realized how dumb that question was. “Of course you can s-sorry.”

I am a ghost and I noticed that a bag was going to fall on you so I went to stop it. I didn’t mean for the rest of that nonsense to happen.

“Oh!” I exclaimed. “Thank you! I’m also sorry that I got you into this situation.”

I don’t mind. 

“Since we seem to be stuck with each other, why don’t we get to know each other better?” I said, a smile forming onto my face. “Perhaps become friends.”

I’d love that.