#*big inhale* okay. times up time to go do something productive

[lovers-rck]

fic rec where someone from the club hosts a party and reader and hazel go and they get a little drunk and pj locks them in a room together until they admit their feeling to each other and things get a little hot n heavy :)

intentional lowercase ;) thank you!

also i did a very vague correction so forgive me if there are any mistakes! english is not my first language.

☆

"seven minutes in heaven!" you hear pj yell and run away, except that you and hazel weren't playing that game.

hazel chukled and went to open the door, almost tripping over a ball of dirty cloth. She grabbed the door handle and tried to open.

the first time doesn't work, but she knows she is a little bit drunk and maybe she was opening the wrong way. the second time doesn't work either, and that's when she starts to worry.

"it's locked" she says "pj locked the door"

"what? " you say "let me try" the room is dimly lit, highlighting the worried features that took over hazel's face.

you grab and try to open the door. one, two, three times later you realized that, in fact, is locked. pj locked the door and ran away for who knows how much time.

"im sure this is one of her pranks" hazel looks at you, her eyes a little sleepy from the alcohol "she will come back in a few minutes"

but you are impacient. three minutes has passed. you look at the posters in Annie's walls, all with a inspirational quote about women and printed pictures of Simone de Beauvoir. five minutes. hazel groans in protest, looking at her dirty shoes and thinking why she didn't clean them before going out, she's embarrassed now. seven minutes pass. eight. nine. ten. eleven. twelv...

"pj!" hazel screams "pj let us out please! i already apologized to you when i said that you only created the club to fuck cheerleaders! please!"

for the next ten seconds the only things you hear is hazel's voice, she's loud and desperate, her hands hitting the wooden door for so long that you almost find a rhythm.

eventually hazel gives up, and in a matter of seconds all the loud noises that she made earlier end up causing her a big headache. she feels less drunk than before, but the after feeling isn't so much better. then she looks at you, sitting in the floor, your legs crossed like a kid and your eyes resting. you were a chill drunk, hazel was a chaotic one.

she find a very strange feeling looking at you, something growing in her stomach. hazel never saw you the way she was seeing you now, always admiring you in secret, always playing the fool when you catch her eye in between classes or practice. she knew that this wasn't product of the alcohol, and that scared her.

so she tried and is currently trying to ignore that little feeling growing inside of her, that little tiny and obviously-not-romantic feeling that became stronger everyday.

okay yes. she was in love with you. so what?

it was not a big deal. it's not like at the very sight of you she becomes dumb and slow and words come out of her mouth like vomit without thinking. it's not like she freeze everytime you touch her or grab her hand. it's not like she is completely, hopelessly, in love with you.

okay it was bad.

"we have to get out of here" hazel says "I'll become anxious and you know i left therapy last week!"

so you get up and grabs hazel's hand. you guide her to sit in Annie's bed, standing in front of her and demand her to breath with you.

inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.

you don't let go of her hand at any time, and neither does hazel. you look at her, her eyes are closed and her lips swell as she exhales the air as you taught her. you look at her and the sudden impulse to scream what you feel for her invades you.

but you two are friends, and friends don't do that. friends help each other without expecting anything in return. but you realized that you didn't want to be hazel's friend when after every shared moment you expected something in return, something to give you a hint, something to answer the doubt that has been in your heart for a long time.

¿did she look at you with those eyes in purpose? ¿did she caressed your cheek in accident that one time? ¿did she makes jokes about couples with you just for the laughs? ¿did she likes you?

the last question is the worst, you consider.

"thank you" hazel says, and you smile slightly in return. always waiting for something else.

and you think she gaves you something in return when you feel her thumb caressing your hand. she stares at your intertwined hands, and so do you.

shyness takes over your bodie, and the giggly and playful hazel disappears. it was always easier to pretend that nothing happened, that all the touches were accidents and all the looks meant nothing. to pretend that they were just meaningless feelings.

but neither of you can do that anymore when you feel hazel pull your hand slowly, bringing your body closer to hers but leaving a space, leaving open the door of regret. you close that door the moment your free hand caresses her face and she smiles at you.

"can i..."

"yes" you say "please"

she obey and guide your bodie to bend down slightly for her to kiss you. you inhale sharply when her lips makes contact with yours for the first time, and suddenly a scared feeling takes over your body

but hazel grabs your face and you understand that there is nothing to fear when you are with her.

her kiss is delicate and slow, but hungry. she grabs your legs and sits you in her lap, not getting enough of you. her mind cannot comprend what is happening, but is unable to stop it. her fingertips swim across your skin, trying to memorize every feeling, every texture that is so new to her.

she fears that she might be a little rough or fast with you, that maybe she crossed the invisible line. she freeze and for a moment she just stay there, her forehead against yours, breathing and trying to process the last five minutes.

"did i do something wrong?" you murmured

"no, no, you did nothing wrong"

"what's wrong?"

she swallows and hold your hand "nothing is wrong"

"don't be scared"

"im not scared" hazel replies, hating how you read her so easily. you raise you eyebrow "okay maybe i am a little scared"

"of what?"

you heard how the girls are laughing at something downstairs.

"i don't know" she exhales "im afraid you won't be my friend anymore after this"

"we were kissing and you were all worried about our friendship?

"yes!" she replies "your friendship is very important to me"

"i know" you gently put a strand of hair behind her ear "your friendship is important to me too. im not gonna ignore you after this if that's what you fear hazel"

"okay" she nodds "okay"

you laugh slightly "okay"

and you kiss her again, more desperate than before. hazel quickly responds to your body and grabs your waist, pushing you towards her.

you move slightly in her lap and she gasp. the strap of your shirt falls off your shoulder and hazel leaves your lips to find a home on the skin of your neck and shoulder. she kiss and bite the flesh, your breathing becoming a little louder.

in a bold act, you grab hazel's hands and place them in your breasts, hoping that she would catch the sign.

and she does, so she moves you shirt up and start massaging your flesh, you nipples alrrady hard to receive hazel's hands. you whimper lightly when you feel hazel's tongue, leaving a trail of kisses all over your tits.

her hand starts going down when you both heard the lock of the door and a scream

"oh my god!" pj screams and hazel cover your breast with her hands in panic "oh my god! guys! guys! oh my god"

pj jumps and start running away, her screams invading the house

"it worked! guys it worked!" pj screams downstairs "the were sucking each other's titties!"

and all the girls scream with her.

[devils-dares]

Give Up The World

summary: coming back home battered and bruised with a baby on the way makes matt rethink his nighttime activities.

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader

warnings: canon typical injuries and blood, little bit of angst, whole lotta fluff

word count: 1200+

A/N: i was literally in the middle of writing for a celebration prompt when i had a brainstorming sesh with @galaxysgal and this idea came to life as soon as my fingers touched my keyboard. i'm pretty sure this was almost done in what i imagine was the first day of writing.

reblogs and comments are welcomed!

-----

You can hear the stairs groan under his weight, one boot step heavier than the other- he was limping… a lot. You cringe as he groans and whines down the rest of the stairs, making his way to you. He can hear your gasp when he comes into view, blood dripping from the bottom of his mask as he sways on his feet.

“I’m sorry,” are the first words out of his mouth.

“What happened?” You ask, tears welling up in your eyes.

“Ambush, I- ah!” He groans, grabbing his side.

“Should’ve seen it coming.” The words ring in your ears as he limps over to the table and sits on the chair.

“I should- let me- the kit.” You eek out, and he can tell you’re freaked.

“Angel-”

“I’m okay, just stay there.” You scurry off to the bathroom and he sighs, hearing your elevated heart rate accompanied by the smaller one that started in your tummy just a few days ago. He strips himself of his helmet and his top, leaving a wide array of bruises, scars, and slices on display. His side, the cut he was holding earlier, gushes dark crimson blood, a reminder of how brutal this job is.

He hears your breath leave you once again as you observe him on the chair, until your adrenaline kicks back in and shakes you away from shock. The feet that carry you to your husband leaving louder footsteps than usual, the extra weight in your tummy being something you have yet to get used to. Your fingers trace his face softly, brushing over a bruise that paints his cheek green and yellow, and he leans into your warm palm.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” He nods and closes his eyes, readying himself for the stinging burn that comes along with rubbing alcohol. You press the rag to his cut skin and he inhales sharply through his teeth and grunts.

“I’m sorry, Matty. I’m trying my best to make it not hurt.”

“It’s okay, I know, you’re doing amazing.” The two of you fall silent after that, only the sound of Matt’s pained grunts permeating the suffocating quiet. Your heart rate rises every time Matt makes a noise, followed by a whisper of “I’m sorry,” or “I love you,” falling from your lips and his own heart breaks a little every time it slips out.

“I can’t…” He says, and it makes you pause.

“Matthew?”

“I quit, I retire, whatever you want to call it. I can’t be Daredevil anymore.”

“What are you saying?”

“I have the most important parts of my life in this room right now, and I’ll be damned if I get myself killed out there instead of taking care of the two of you.”

“A-are you sure? This is a big thing to just go cold turkey on.”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

In all fairness, he did go cold turkey and he stuck with it. He put all his efforts into house shopping, and all his aggression into the punching bags at Fogwell’s. Oftentimes he’d pause by the closet under the stairs that concealed the trunk that held his suit. You could tell he had an itching, a longing, to go back to his ways. His thumbs would begin tracing the scars on his knuckles from years of serving his penance, hands balled into fists, he’d twitch towards the hiding spot until his ears fell on you. On your growing baby and the small heartbeat that lay within your tummy. He’d remind himself of what lay ahead, what he quit for, why he continues to stay away.

You could tell it’d weigh heavy on his mind, flashes of aggression would show through, and he tried his best to channel it to more productive things, but with disagreements you could see it bleed through. His nostrils flared, his eyes went wide, his voice would drop an octave and suddenly you’d realize how exactly he instilled so much fear into his enemies. He’d always apologize as soon as he did it, though, it still hurt to know that he could unleash just a glimpse of unbridled fury against you.

It weighed heavily on your marriage, there were days where he’d stay up all night, listening to the sirens and knowing that he couldn’t do anything about it, just to be angry and irritable all day. You swore you’d never leave him though, and it paid off. After months of sitting in that darkness all alone, he let you in. He told you of all his intrusive thoughts, how he felt about anything and everything, what made him happy and what made him tick and why he couldn’t be near you on certain nights. It made sense, the way he explained it, why he did the things he does. It must’ve been a coincidence, but the second he shed a tear, your child kicked for the first time.

You gasped and grabbed his hand, placing it towards the side of your belly. He looks quizzically until he feels it, and the tears come quicker when he realizes.

“Oh-” He chokes up on his words.

“This. This is what we do everything for. This is ours, Matt, don’t you realize? I will never leave you for acting the way you do, I get it. But we have bigger priorities now.” He nods and laughs as he feels another kick, harder this time.

“Looks like you’ll be dealing with a mini-me.” He laughs.

“Unfortunately.”

-----

“Mommy, why does daddy have lines over here?” She points to his chest while laying on him. The three of you were laying in bed in the early morning, light shining through the windows of your Astoria home. Your four year old daughter, bless her soul, was the most curious kid on the block. She could smell your’s and Matt’s bullshit from a mile away when you wanted to appease her, and kept pushing until she got a real answer, or at least a high effort answer.

“So bumpy,” she observes, running her hand over his scars, “what is it?”

“It’s something… daddy always had.” Matt answers, and she tuts.

“Wrong, mommy, your turn.” Matt laughs at that.

“Lawyer’s daughter,” you huff, Matt’s laugh now shaking the bed, “well, baby, before you were born, daddy was a really good guy. He used to go out and save the world, every night! Sometimes, though, he’d get a little hurt, and mommy would have to fix his booboos-”

“Did you kiss em like mine?” She asks.

“No, sweetheart, that’s only for you.”

“Mommy likes me more!” She squeals at Matt.

“Anyways, sometimes when they healed, they left little bumps, or scars. It just shows how much daddy loved his city, and how he gave it away to love you now.”

“Thank you, daddy.” She buries her head in his shoulder and he holds her tight.

“I’d give up anything for you, bug, but you gotta give mommy the credit. I was hard to be around.” She looks up at you and tugs you into their cuddle pile.

Soon enough, she falls asleep, her puffs of air hitting Matt’s cheek as she lay on his shoulder.

“Thank you.” He mumbles sleepily.

“For what?”

“For staying with me, for giving her to me, for having faith in me when I was at my lowest.”

“I watched a building drop on you, I’m not letting you go over a few hissy fits.” He laughed at your attempt to lighten the mood.

“I know. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You yawn out, and Matt stays awake to listen to his girls’ heartbeats while they sleep peacefully.

[blueberryarchive]

Peaches and Cream. (Pt.1)

In which Jungkook, a one-star Michelin chef, gets the information: a new blogger, you, gave him a bad review of his restaurant, and he gets obsessed with the things you wrote; and in the process, with you. Wanting to show you he's a good chef, he invites you to a good meal cooked by him.

—⁠☆Pairing: Bi Chef!Jungkook & Blogger!Reader

—⁠☆Genre: au, enemies to lovers.

—⁠☆Word Count: 4.3k

—⁠☆Warnings: filthy mouth Jungkook, like so much for no reason. smut, two doms trying to dom each other, stalking, dub-con, masturbation, prejudice/bigotry, depictions of queerness and family. (these are the warnings for the whole two-part series)

—⁠☆a/n: this the first part of a 2 part ff, i hope you gals can help me get better at writing in english since it's not my first language. as always thank you for reading.

The morning painted the windows of his office with a slight dew, the clouds announced how gray that Friday would be. Every time it rained it wasn't busy in the restaurant, but Jungkook appreciated the sweet aroma the concrete emanated in the alleys. 

The smell of the city of rotting garbage and asphalt goes to give way to childhood memories of him. Running home, jumping through long puddles, the taste of freshly cooked rice. Mild and fluffy in the mouth. 

Jungkook dropped his cigarette halfway to the ground as a van turned the corner. Grocery shopping was one of the favorite parts of his job. Maybe the best. At 4 in the morning, he would open the back doors of his restaurant, clean and file his knives, which he kept wrapped in cotton cloth that his grandmother sewed for him with his initials. In a rather old mocha pot, he used to put three spoons of freshly ground coffee and water and stayed waiting for the men from the market, who came to bring him the freshest products for that day's dishes. Cup of coffee in hand and a lot to say.

He loved to touch, press, smell, taste and pinch the vegetables; pick them up on the light and complain that the salmon was from yesterday and the courgettes were too big. Loved to bargain with Tomas the price of trivial things. 

"Tom, don't be a bitch. I'll have to throw away half of these tomatoes before four o'clock." 

"Jung-" Tomas, a Hispanic man with the face of that painting from Alexandre Cabanel, inhaled sharply, placing two fingers on the bridge of his nose. He didn't know what Tomas was saying in Spanish, but Jungkook knew, somehow, that it involved fucking his mother. 

"You take the two boxes and the Montserrat." Tomas repeated.

"Tom, what am I going to do with shit as acid as Montserrat tomatoes. Green ones." Jungkook yelled, almost spitting out his coffee, taking a healthy tomato in his hand. 

"Shove it up your ass." Tomas shrugged casually. Jungkook hit him on the shoulder, and both laughed. 

"Okay, give me both. Maybe Vic will think of making something with your fucking tomatoes..." the imaginary disgust on his palate at the thought of a Montserrat tomato sauce or a salad. Worse: fried. 

Tomas knew that silence and the lost look of Jungkook's idiot fuckface. "You can't change your mind anymore, chef. I already had my boys put the boxes down." 

"I know. I'm just regretting letting you win." 

Tomas clicked his tongue, revealing a perfect smile to the ched. "Sometimes you have to let it go, chef." 

"Go away, motherfucker." Jungkook smiled, still looking at the boxes of green tomatoes. 

"Bye, Chef." 

"Mmm," Jungkook took the last sip of his coffee as the truck pulled away. Now it was time to lift the boxes. That kept Jungkook's arms in good shape. He rolled up his baggy shirt to reveal his colorful tattooed arm. Smoothly tying his wavy hair in a low ponytail. With one arm, he lifted the sack of rice to the kitchen island, then the oysters, then the crate of vegetables. 

With precision and finesse, he grasped the knife with the curved edge from his collection and began to peel each vegetable. Everything was with the accuracy of a surgeon. 

If lifting sacks was his daily exercise, cutting and peeling the preparatives was his meditation. With so much attentiveness to his peeling, he almost cut himself when he heard his cell phone vibrate. He growled and cursed in a breath. He hated getting called on the phone. If it weren't for his mom, he would have thrown away that piece of plastic years ago. 

Vic, the screen said, the face of a curly-haired man in a perfect afro, teeth so perfect as he smiled into the camera. Jungkook took that photo about a year ago, just outside his favorite café. He had months without buying a cup of coffee there.

With his knuckles, he opened the call. "I thought you were coming over to help me with the oysters, Vic," he demanded with a frown concentrating on peeling the shiitake mushrooms until soft and white. 

Vic didn't answer until after a lengthy silence. Pretty long, considering he had just finished peeling a couple of mushrooms. Jungkook looked at his cell phone. "Victor?" 

"Here I am," he replied reluctantly. 

"Why the hell are you calling me if you aren't going to talk? I'm busy." 

"I thought, when I met you, that you cuss so much and act like a piece of shit because you wanted to be like Gordon Ramsay or something." 

"What's the point, Vic? The oysters are still here unopened, and Helena doesn't come in until six, and I-" 

"You're busy." They both spoke in unison. That made Jungkook feel a sting in his throat, a slight tickle. 

"Are you going to come, yes or no?" 

"My God, Jeon, just for a moment, stop thinking about the damn oysters and pay attention to me." 

"I do, Victor, and you still don't answer my damn question. Do I have to pick up a fucking bum off the streets to do your job?" 

"Why did you come to my house on Tuesday?" Jungkook stopped the fluid movements of the knife, his eyes on the phone. 

"You wrote me to go," the chef replied.

"Yes, but for you to pick up your things." 

"I did that." Jungkook snorted, finishing with the mushrooms and starting with the carrots. 

"Yeah, after fucking me and telling me you loved me... like twice in the process." Vic sounded hurt. Jungkook hated it when he did that because he knew how dramatic Vic could be. 

"And after that, you kept treating me as your sous-chef the next day."

"You are my sous-chef, Victor." He interrupted, leaning on the metal table.

"Yeah, but I'm talking like outside of work."

"Yes, because you're still my sous-chef, Victor. I don't get-"

"Do you do this to Marianne? Or Helena, Joseph, or every waiter with an innocent little face when you tell them they're your favorite." 

"Vic," warned the chef. 

"Or maybe you were in a year-long relationship with your maitre d' so he wouldn't fire you. No, that was me. If it weren't for me, that place wouldn't have the popularity it has" 

"Vic," Jungkook growled, feeling the blood rush to his head. 

"You are a pest to your restaurant, Jeon Jungkook." 

That was it. Jungkook dropped the knife on the table and gripped the device as close to his mouth, thin lips brushing the screen. 

"Victor, if you hadn't opened your legs to me, you wouldn't even have the chance to lick the leftovers from my alley." 

"Bullshit, if I'm the whore, what makes you?. Who did you have to fuck for your place, chef?" 

"Everyone." Jungkook laughed sarcastically, "And yet, I'm the one who has a fucking Michelin star under my name and my sweat... what have you done with the fucks on your record?" 

Victor was silent. "You are a prick." 

"Okay" Jungkook didn't understand where this was going, but it was almost six in the morning, and he had to start removing the skin from the salmon. His walking around the station didn't keep him calm, nor it was productive. 

"I don't know why I let you into my house." 

"You were alone, just like I felt that day too. And you also act like it doesn't turn you on when I drunk fuck you." Jungkook waited for an answer, but there was nothing. "Vic?" Silence. When he saw the screen of his cell phone, there was no longer the photo of Victor or the creaking of the telephone line. "Vic, the oysters" He didn't even know why he was trying, he closed his eyes and put the cell phone in his pocket. 

The door opened suddenly, startling Jeon. It was Helena, a curvy thirty-something girl taking a last puff from her vape. With a rush, she put her hair in a high ponytail. 

Jungkook tried to act as naturally as possible. 

"Good morning, chef." Helena hastened to say, putting on her apron. 

"Mm," he muttered as he followed his work, musing among the damn green tomatoes that he had no idea what Vic asked them for.

A long time passed while both, Jungkook and Helena, worked at their stations. 

"Chef," Helena broke the silence by pressing her lips together. 

"Yeah?" 

"I'm trying to make a list for my future...you know I want to open my place one day." 

"Everyone wants their own little place," Jungkook interrupted, opening the oysters with swift movements. 

"Yes, yes. But I really don't like getting fucked in the ass, and it's not that there are a lot of women in this business, much less lesbians." She burst. Jungkook grinned against his own will when she wasn't looking. 

"Fuck you, Helena. Cut the mangoes for the sauce." Jungkook hissed, and set the oysters aside as Helena laughed at him. "I'm going to the market for more onions and tell Joseph to finish the oysters by himself" 

"Yes, Chef." voiced Helena with a grand smile.

Jungkook left the station, the cold air soothing the remains of his anger. Without thinking much, he reached into his pocket taking out a cigarette.

He started walking through the streets of New York. Vic had worn him out, and his 14-hour shift hadn't started.

The steam rising from meats, the incessant sound of vegetables being cut, three different sauces being stirred. Jungkook's kitchen was alive, it was seven at night and this was the time when his guests arrived like flies on the cake. Men in Italian brand suits and their girlfriends of the week, older women with picky palates, fanatics, high-class tourists…you name it, you find it.

Normally, Jungkook would be in the front. Preparing each dish, tasting each sauce, checking each cut, and scrutinizing that each dish looks like something he is proud of.

But here he was, in the dark alley behind his restaurant as he called Vic over and over on the phone, the cigarette in his hand melting with the wind and light drizzle. His hair and his white suit getting wet as he left the umpteenth voice note for Vic.

"Victor, for God's sake, I have the restaurant full tonight. It's a fucking Friday, why the fuck aren't you here?" he breathed sharply, the tension had his shoulders tense and the veins in his arms looked like they were going to explode.

The messages did not reach him, the wretch had turned off the phone.

"Shit," he muttered as he thumped into the kitchen that blazed with the heat of thirty pots on the stove. What happened after going through the door seemed…uncanny. All of his cooks looked at him at the same time, fleetingly to return to their tasks again.

They knew something that Jungkook didn't.

He sighed deeply before tying his hair into a half-bun. He rolled up his sleeves and went to his station, reading the orders aloud.

"One duck, two mussels, one Bok Choy" Jungkook ordered.

"Yes, chef," the others said in unison.

Food was piling up around Jungkook, sauces, and stir-fried vegetables. With a spoon he tasted the first and nodded slightly, then the shiitake. With agility he grabbed an empty plate and began to order each detail: first, the sauce spread like a brush, the green color so bright; then the piece of meat, glistening with juice, three drops of yellow radish sauce, a delicate yellow flower for the final touch.

"Service!" Jungkook pushed the plate away towards the waitress on the other side of his table.

"Fuck," Joseph muttered in the kitchen.

"Stop being an imbecile and attend your damn station," Charlie, the poissonier, snarled, hurling a frying pan into the sink with a crash.

"Where are my mussels?" Jungkook was sweating, his eye trembled slightly.

"Joseph just screwed them up, I have to do them again"

"And what are you doing wasting time talking?" Jeon interrupted on the verge of screaming. The others tensed, again that look from everyone.

"Sorry, Chef" said Joseph and Charlie.

"Hurry up, damn." Jungkook continued with his task of plating each meal, tasting over and over again everything that was within his reach.

"Where is my sauce?" he growled when his hand reached to his right, and Helena nor the sauce wasn't there. 

"In a minute, sir." 

"I don't have a minute."

Helena took the pan and stirred while going to the prep station. Jungkook took a small spoon and tasted it.

"More salt," he said, furrowing his eyebrows.

Helena seemed confused. "More, Chef?"

"Don't make me repeat myself, dear." 

"Yes, chef." Helena went back and added more salt, a few seconds later, he was pouring the sauce into the mushrooms. 

"Service!" the waiter took the plate, he started to feel a pain in his lower back and was exhausted. "Helena," he called, continuing his job. 

"Chef."

"Call Vic, tell him that if he isn't here in twenty minutes, I'll fire him."

There was no 'yes, chef', no answer at all. Actually, it was a little quieter in the kitchen. He didn't look back. "I said-"

"I don't think you want that, chef." This time, he turned around, and there it was: the look.

"When I say something, misses Gallo, I mean it" he felt more intense than usual if, that's even possible. Helena felt like she just saw a ghost. Jungkook knew she joked around with him, but she knew her time and place.

"Vic it's not coming back, sir." The youngest, Joseph, tilts his head down in fear. 

"Why is that?"

"God, how I abhor when things like these happen." The elegant man entered the kitchen with his sleek blonde hair and a black suit, calico eyes, and the most pretentious-looking glasses you could find. It was Jimin Park, his maitre d'. 

Jimin was the one who gave the classiness Jungkook lacked when it came to treating his clientele. He greeted and took care of everyone like they were his friends. 

"She's here." 

"Who?" Jungkook couldn't be more out. Jimin gave him his phone, and on the screen was a girl eating a plate exactly like the one he made minutes ago. Wait, that was his restaurant. 

"Oh my God, she's actually here. I didn't know Vic was such a petty bitch." Helena laughed while watching the live stream. Jungkook turned off the screen. 

"What the fuck is going on?"

"Vic tweeted to her to come here because his ex fired him for being a good cook, something like that." Jimin shrugged. Jungkook felt his chest contract, he started biting the ring on his lower lip.

"Who is she?" 

"She's a mukbanger but like a mean one, she's an icon," Joseph said smiling. 

"She's like the new wave of food criticism." Jimin took his phone and put it in his pocket. "Our world doesn't care anymore about magazines or what the paper says."

A waitress came bursting from the door.

"Mr. Park, the girl went away." 

"Am I supposed to be scared because she's going to tweet about some overcooked lamb?" he asked the waitress who didn't know what to say. 

"She's gone?" Jimin raised his glasses taking a deep sigh, he looked at Jungkook and lightly smiled. "You're fucked, Jeon." 

"Fuck you, Park. No, I'm not" he was offended, how could he say that in front of his group?

Jungkook took Jimin by his forearm and took him to his office. The others were left watching through the little window looking for the infamous mukbanger.

For a second, Jungkook was going to look back and ask his sous chef to take care of the kitchen. But he didn't have a fucking sous-chef. 

This couldn't be possible, he had a Michelin star because of his discipline, the way he cooked, his crew, and the stories he told through the food. He had the perfect ambiance, the most amazing maitre d' in New York, and the perfect culinary experience. He worked his ass off for this.

He was above the trolly reviews from Yelp, the people who thought he just did something to fill stomachs. But why did he feel this was not the same? Why did she leave? He made sure everything was perfect. Everything. 

"Hey!" Jimin snapped his fingers in Jungkook's face. For a moment, he put his palm on Jungkook's forehead. 

"Jesus, you're burning" he saw the expression on his chef, with his eyebrow rose, the pierced end moving slightly. Lost in thought. 

"Do you really think this is going to ruin me?"

Jimin's heart felt heavy, he denied occupying his hands with some papers. 

"I don't know, Kook. Perhaps she went away because she didn't find anything bad to say, or maybe she had to go and that's it. You know how those people are."

Jungkook nodded, none of them were sure that Jimin said the truth. But it had to do for now. 

"Now go, the kitchen will be a mess without you."

It's already a mess.

Jungkook nodded again, hands behind his back. He needed to know who you were. As soon as possible.

Jungkook doesn't remember the last time he sat on the couch in his apartment, his legs were covered with two sheets and he had a black hoodie covering his chest and lanky hair. He doesn't remember how strange morning TV was: everyone was wearing makeup and smiling as they talked about how climate change was inundating homes in India. It couldn't be more bizarre. Maybe it was the fever that had him glued to the screen in front of him or the ache in his tired muscles. 

The icing on the cake, he was sick. 

The night of the influencer's drama, Jungkook came to his room. His hair was wet from the rain that fell that night and his body soaked. His body sank into the sheets with his uniform, the fever began to make him have strange dreams where orders came but never came out. He woke up around four in the morning the next day and called Jimin, his voice raspy as he changed out of his uniform.

"Call Jin, tell him to cover me this week."

"Okay," Jimin replied with a breath.

"Okay? No questions?"

"No, I already knew you were going to get sick." Jungkook pursed his lips into a small smile, eyes closed from exhaustion.

"As soon as the fever stops, you won't need Jin. I promise."

"As much as I want that to be true, I don't want you in the restaurant until you're completely well. It's enough for the restaurant that a cute girl says absurd things about your food and then we get rumors about you cooking with your boogers" Jimin blurted out.

"Absurd?" Jungkook looked for some boxers and changed, throwing his body on the living room furniture. "What did she write?"

"Um...," Jimin put the chef on hold as he thought of an honest but not unseemly way to tell him the review. "Well, she said she was sick of seeing the same wave of elite restaurants for the decadent new yorker elite, the same exotic cuts of a bird, and the environment with walls as white as a psychiatric hospital. She said that I looked like a nurse going from table to table to give them their pills in porcelain saucers to the long-lived of New York," Jimin laughed. "That was funny...it's like the truth-"

"And about me?" Jungkook felt the fever consuming his body, a headache approaching like a shadow behind his neck.

"Well, she said the food was tasteless and you screwed up the only thing she was looking forward to"

"The mushrooms?"

"How did you know?" 

"Of course, it was the mushrooms," Jeon muttered, squeezing his eyes shut, cursing Vic with the wrath of a thousand seas, wanting him to be engulfed and convulsing for all eternity looking for oxygen. 

"The sauce was salty to the point that she wanted to throw up, she said."

"The sauce was salty," he repeated and then smiled so as not to destroy the room in his sickly state.

He doesn't remember much of what he did those three days that had passed. Jimin would stop by his apartment to bring dinner and pick up the shirts from the floor. He complained about Jin for half an hour with a glass of wine in hand, until Jimin realized that Jungkook couldn't even stay focused.

"Hey, wake up." Jimin patted his cheeks and Jungkook didn't even flinch.

"Vic has been there? In the restaurant, I mean," Jungkook grabbed the wine from Jimin's hand, drinking it all in one gulp.

"No, he had a friend go get his things the next day."

"Who, the youtube whore?"

"No," Jimin chuckled. They both saw each other and laughed under their breaths.

"It was a redhead."

"Oh, you mean Chris."

"Yeah," Jimin answered looking at his friend with tipsy eyes. "When was the last time you got laid?"

Jungkook began to fidget around, looking for something to occupy his hands with.

"It can't be that Victor-" Jimin's mouth tightened. "Of course," he chuckled, a light rose painting his cheeks.

"What the hell do you know, Park?"

"I would have known."

"Are you spying on me through the cameras you have in my bathroom to see if I jerk off?" His hoarse voice was screeching, and Jimin couldn't take his anger seriously.

"There's a certain je ne sais quoi to it when you fuck, like you stop yelling so much and actually do your job."

"I do my job."

"But it would be better if you didn't scream all the time like a fucking maniac."

"Mmm," tiredness wouldn't let him continue answering. He had taken a pill for the flu but he didn't know it was going to hit him so fast. Jimin noticed.

"Well, I'll let you rest. I brought you a couple of plums and oranges from the market."

"Tell Jin I say hi in the morning," Jungkook mumbled.

Jimin patted him on the shoulder and left Jungkook's phone on the table with your Instagram open. "Stop watching morning TV, your brain will melt."

Jungkook didn't touch the phone for a long while thinking about the words that were repeating like a broken record: "tasteless" and "elite for the elite"...Jungkook didn't even come from a wealthy family. It was foolish.

He lazily swiped his way down through your profile, looking at the thumbnails of your photos where you smiled like nothing was wrong. 

You liked showing cleavage, he realized. In addition to being a liar, you liked the attention. There was one where you were in a jacuzzi with a glass of champagne and another where you were on the French shores.

Besides the fact that you liked the attention, it was for a reason. The way your lips curved into a smile as if your breasts weren't pinched in that bikini two sizes too small. 

What kind of reporter were you?

Without realizing it, Jungkook was lying on his bed looking at your photos while eating a plum. He didn't know if it was the sweetness of the ripe fruit or the fever, but he felt strange. His body felt like it was floating between the satin of his bed. 

Another brush up to your profile: more food, more cats, travel, you in a bikini. One, in particular, caused the lower half of him to brush against the sheets. It wasn't that different from the others, but for some reason this time you weren't smiling. You looked at the camera with a certain judging that made Jungkook's throat boil.

His fingers were covered in prune juice, the wrinkled seed clenched between his teeth. What he was going to do wasn't one of his most dignified moments, but the meds made him delirious, not fucking someone besides Vic made him even sicker. 

His sticky fingers trailed from his navel to the edge of his boxers. When he felt the wetness of his slimy fingers on his tip he clamped the seed harder into his teeth, growling in loathing.

Your face caused his chest to swell with anger and his dick to rise at the slightest touch of his tattooed hand. Thinking of your tongue tasting his cock on a plate, no garnish, no cutlery. He wanted you to swallow it and shed tears on your cheeks.

A shriek. He tossed the phone onto the bed and covered his embarrassed face with his forearm. His hand trembled under his Calvin boxers, saliva pooling in his mouth as he couldn't swallow. 

His tongue flicked over the seed in his mouth, and like a flash, the image of him covering your clit with his spit flashed by. He growled like a fleeing animal as his orgasm made him arch his back. He removed the seed from his mouth.

"Fuck," he mumbled when he saw the stain on his pants. Air rushed out of his nose for the first time all day. He closed his eyes in pure bliss. Two minutes later, he wrinkled his nose and repeated: "Fuck," this time rolling his eyes, angry with himself for what he was going to do. He turned on his cell phone screen and opened the dm of your profile.

jkookcooks: So what kind of reviews do you do when you leave mid-meal? You didn't even try dessert. If you really want to do something worthwhile and not your unnecessary sensationalism, maybe you should come try something made by me.

He almost threw the cell phone when he hit send. Feeling the cold of his cum in his pants and the words he send to make him cringe.

When he got up to clean himself up, he heard his cell phone vibrate almost immediately. 

Didn't you have things to do on a Friday night?

CherryCloud: Just say the day, chef.

A smile left Jungkook's lips. He'd love to grab your face and make you eat the best meal you ever had, to see if you'll shut up that way... He'd have to plan the menu for the night.

Why did he feel a sudden fear? He saw the photo again: your judgy eyes, hugging your knees.

[jiminrings]

478!jk’s definitely the type to have couvade syndrome (aka sympathetic pregnancy: the guy also experiences his wife’s symptoms) and y/n would be so confused 🤔🤔🤔 like huh, i thought EYE was the one carrying???

478: drabble

alternatively, jungkook’s on your team — literally :-)

[ 478 masterlist ]

Jungkook’s your personal security system with the way he insists to tag along to every bullet point you have in your work schedule.

You’re in your first trimester and although it hasn’t been as seamless as you’d like, you manage everyday. You’re not showing either, atleast not yet. The idea of when you should take your leave lingers at the back of your head but you feel that it shouldn’t be now, not when you’re still perfectly able without the bump and the fatigue on your way.

The news of your pregnancy is still under wraps with only your team and a select few people knowing as exceptions, unwilling to publicize anything this early in time.

Jungkook was already protective before yet there’s no term to just describe exactly how he’s grown even more now, a lingering proof of it being his very own chair with his name printed that the production crew had gotten made. If it were up to him, he would’ve also put his name on the call sheet with just how present he is.

“Are you gonna finish that?” he looks at Jimin pointedly, his voice hushed even if there were only a few people in the dressing room. Jungkook tilts his head to the food in front of Jimin, the latter having neglected his meal for a total of five (5) seconds because he was responding to an email.

Jimin remembers setting down his chopsticks two and a half blinks ago, but he doesn’t quite remember how badly he likes the meal with the way Jungkook looks at him inquisitively.

“Uhm, I don’t think so? You can-…” he clears his throat when Jungkook snatches the lunchbox away with a huff, eyes big and frozen. “… have it if you want.”

Without you present in the room, there’s no buffer. Jimin and Jungkook can normally tolerate each other and they even bond, actually. It’s just that there’s something in the air that your manager can’t exactly place with your husband’s attitude.

Jimin accomplishes his email and it barely even took him a minute, but he wishes it took him longer so that he had the time to forget that he doesn’t exactly have a meal to come back to now. Just as he’s about to pick up his chopsticks in reflex, Jungkook scoffs across him, his lunchbox already empty.

“Is there a reason you didn’t finish it?” 

Jimin blinks, perplexed at the whiplash. “You uhm, you asked if I was gonna finish it, Jungkook.”

He knows for a fact that he’s sleep-deprived but Jimin knows exactly what he’s seeing; the sight of Jungkook being pissy with him for no reason at all just makes him want to go look for you to hide behind you.

“I know, and you said I could have it. Why didn’t you finish your lunchbox?”

“Because you asked for it?” he answers unsurely, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

It must be the wrong answer because Jungkook’s eyes narrow even more, crossing his arms. His hair’s longer now but it barely covers up the scowl on his face. “No I didn’t. I asked if you were gonna finish it, not if I could have it,” he enunciates. “You don’t like my cooking, is that it?”

“What? No, no! I-I like your cooking!” Jimin amends, waving out his hands.

“Didn’t seem like it,” Jungkook scoffs, shrugging carelessly, “Yeah, whatever. I woke up extra early just to prepare lunchboxes for my wife’s manager and her friend, but it’s okay,” he snickers. “I don’t care, Jimin. Atleast Yoongi’s fucking that shit up. Look.”

Surely enough, Yoongi’s indeed fucking up the lunchbox that Jungkook prepared, his heavy breaths being heard from across the room because he barely gives himself the time to inhale with how good the food was.

“I care! I love the lunchbox! Thank you so much, Jungkook. Really, I do-…”

Jungkook clenches his jaw, shaking his head slowly in disbelief. Jimin can’t even catch up even if your husband’s face is set on the ground.

“Wow. And I thought you can’t be any more demeaning. God, you expect me to cook for you? Even Y/N doesn’t do this to me. You, you think that I’m just some communal husband that should cook a-and-…”

“Hi, baby.”

Both Jungkook and Jimin perk up at the sight of you, the former being placated now that he has his eyes on you, and the latter utterly relieved because he clearly needs help.

“Oh, hello,” Jungkook beams, grinning up at you. He melts immediately when you hug him from behind and it’s as if he wasn’t annoyed to hell and back with your manager just seconds ago.

Jimin’s speechless. Completely and utterly speechless at Jungkook’s change-up, his words reduced to a whisper directed at you.

“Was it — w-was it something I said?”

You discreetly put your hands over Jungkook’s ears and he doesn’t even notice, your face sympathetic because it’s clear as day that Jimin’s been put into a whiplash. “This couvade syndrome’s only gonna last until the first trimester,” you whisper. “They say it comes back on the third though. Don’t show your face to Jungkook for the meantime.”

You coax Jungkook out of his seat to tell him that your shoot’s done for the day, his head eagerly nodding in understanding.

“Jimin told me he doesn’t like my lunchboxes,” he pipes up, his eyes sly and menacing when he looks back at him briefly. “He also told me that I should go fuck myself.”

“I-..!”

You shut Jimin up with a pointed look, the both of you already knowing that nothing of the sort happened and that Jungkook’s going through it — perhaps significantly even worse than you.

You bite back a chuckle, humming which seems to indulge Jungkook immediately. “Did he now?”

[dmwrites]

Shop at iBuy- a story of one happy customer

——

Beef’s shopping list was short. Prismarine. Orange terracotta. More shulker boxes. This was good, because after looking at the hermit shopping directory, he realized he could get all of those items at the same store-iBuy.

“Classic Impulse, with the whole ‘i’ thing.” Beef chuckled. “I wonder what kind of quirky building he’s made this- oh great cheese and crackers!” Beef rounded a corner and found himself looking out at a towering building, make of black and gold, as foreboding as a place could be. It was the giant golden “i” that told Beef that this was, in fact, Impulse’s shop. “Good lord, Impulse, who on earth needs so much storefront? What is this, like a goth Claire’s or something?” He chuckled at his own joke, which made no sense, and headed up the stairs, passing the giant statues of the man himself on his way in.

Inside was a plush greeting room, with heavy yellow and black carpets and an elegant chandelier. There was also a huge directory, which Beef walked over to, almost self-conscious over how quiet the place was.

“Let’s see… terracotta… ground floor straight ahead. Prismarine… oh, recently expanded to a new location… second floor to the right. Okay… shulkers… second floor on the left. Great.�� Beef picked up a shopping bag and walked into the hallway, and he could already see the terracotta. He went over and bent over the barrels, muttering about the price, but getting ten stacks regardless. “Okay, second floor is next, let’s… huh?”

Beef had turned back around to find a wall where there had just recently been a hallway. He looked to either side of him, and found rooms to the left and right, but he could have sworn those had been windows.

“Hm. I think I’ve been inhaling too much concrete powder recently, I’m losing my mind.” Beef said to himself. “Let’s go find the second floor.” He grasped his shopping bag firmly and walked into the left room. “Wait…” This room was full of lighting, from frog lights to beacons. Beef walked through that room and into the next, which was full of sofas. But there were some stairs, which Beef took up to the second floor. He was greeted with a wall of shelves filled with what looked like unofficial hotguy merch. He turned back around to go back down the stairs (maybe he should have turned right), but the staircase was gone, and in its place was another room, which was filled with concrete.

“What on earth is happening?” Beef whispered. He walked into the concrete room, took a left, and was back at the hotguy merch. But when he retraced his steps, he just found the shulkers. So, Beef got a couple, since he had needed them.

Something very odd was going on, Beef was sure of it. The building layout didn’t make sense, walls and rooms kept changing. He found the prismarine, which was a huge room on one side of the store, which Beef could have sworn he’d just walked into when it was a tool room.

With all of his shopping done, he truly began to panic. He hadn’t seen any stairs back down, or an exit sign. The place was so confusing, and there just seemed to be more and more product.

Then, he saw a bright yellow sign against a curtain.

“Do not enter, under construction”.

“You know what, I’ll just break out of this place!” Beef said, pushing aside the curtain. What lay before him was a huge drop, down to a nasty-looking pile of dirt and grass. It was weakly lit up, and mobs were plentiful. It was the shell of the building. There was a creak, and Beef moved back just in time to watch the floor crumble where he’d just been standing. “Never mind.” He said, clutching his purchases to his chest.

A couple of left and right turns later, and there was a person. Their back was to him, but they were clearly moving. Beef’s heart leapt. Another person! And the back of their shirt had a big “i” on it. Maybe they could help.

“Excuse me, are you an employee? I can’t seem to- Iskall?” Beef reeled back as Iskall, in a black and yellow dwarven uniform, turned around to look at him, a stack of boxes in his hands.

“Beef?” Iskall gasped. “What are you doing in here?”

“Me? What about you? We’ve been looking for you for months!” Beef replied. “Do you work here?”

“Beef, you can’t be in here.” Iskall whispered, dropping the boxes and gripping his arm tight. “This place… it’ll trap you, it’ll make you buy more and more until one day… you’re an employee for Impulse himself. You have to find your way out! Follow the “i”s on the floor, if it’s the wrong way round, head that way.”

“Come with me.” Beef whispered back, taking Iskall’s face in his hands. “We can escape this together.”

Iskall shook his head, gripping Beef’s wrists and pulling them away. “It’s too late for me. Go.”

Beef nodded, tears in his eyes, and began to walk away. He turned back one last time, couldn’t help himself, and saw Iskall, eyes dead, stacking items on the shelves.

“Goodbye, sweet EEskall.” Beef whispered.

Iskall’s directions seemed to hold true- he followed the upsidown “i”s, twisting and turning between shelves that held items he’d never even heard of, and eventually ended up standing in the entrance room, where the sun shone through bright, cheery windows.

“Oh my god. I made it.” Beef whispered, looking all around him.

“Oh hey Beef!”

Beef gasped in terror as Impulse walked over the threshold of his shop.

“Hi Impulse! What- uh, nice shop!” Beef squeaked out.

“Did you find everything you needed?” Impulse asked, smiling at him. “I always find myself buying things I don’t even need when I’m shopping. So much to look at in here!”

“Oh, well, you know me, lots of mapmaking to do, it was just a quick trip!” Beef replied, hoping he didn’t sound nervous.

“Ah, we’ll get ya next time!” Impulse’s smile flickered for a second. “Would you like to leave a review of your shopping experience? We’re always looking to improve the experience of our customers here at iBuy.” Impulse held out a book.

“Uh, sure.” Beef said, as Impulse was standing between him and the exit, and he got the distinct feeling of being trapped. He took the book and wrote:

Found what I needed. Nice carpets. Please don’t hurt me.

“Wonderful! See you again soon, Beef!” Impulse said, taking the book back and closing it. He moved aside, and Beef emerged into the setting sunlight. He could have sworn it had been morning when he went in. He flew away without looking back, even more so convinced that he needed to never leave his card game making island ever again. Better to be an actual hermit then deal with the hermits (and their weird shops) themselves.

[elerinna]

Easy

Crocodile x Reader

Sorry for any gramatical error, English isn't my first language.

Being the partner of Crocodile is not easy. Even when it's been years, even when nobody knows you are his significant other. He is not always here, some night he comes in the room to speak a little with me, he even wait until I fall asleep before returning to his job. Some other night when he come earlier I make him diner.

Today wasn't a good day to me. All I wanted was to go in bed and cuddle my big guy. But I am not even sure he'll be here tonight. So finally at home I don't eat, I don't change my clothes, no, I go directly to bed. I take his pillow in my arms and cry a little. When he is not home are the worst days. I fall asleep like that.

When I open my eyes the room is dark. I am sure it's morning so why is the room dark I didn't close the curtains yesterday… I was about to go up but somthing take my shirt and put me back on the bed. There I feel a breath next to me. I look closer and it was Crocodile. I start to feel tears going into my eyes and my throat tighning. I put my head on his chest and fall back asleep as his hand go on my shoulder pulling me more onto him. Maybe it was not the morning after all.

I open my eyes a second time. My head was not anymore on a hard chest but on a soft pillow. The smell of smoke and sand still in the air. The room is still as dark. And his not there anymore, he is never there the morning. I sigh and take again his pillow.

Yesterday was not a good day, nobody wanted to buy my products, and worst of all. A guy flirted with me and he didn't take no for an answer, so he promised to come to my home and prove his love. Who knows what he means by that.

But I'm safe, when we started to live at Alabasta Crocodile had demanded that my house was hidden far from any city's. It's better for him to come here and more safe for me. But still this guy had given me chills.

I stand on the floor and open my door. A strong smell of food go directly to my nose. The face of the guy before come to my head. I take the knife Crocodile gave me and walk slowly to the kitchen. It was a man in the kitchen not a bad one. Just mine. Okay maybe a bad one, but not to me.

The knife fell from my hand but the sand grabed it before it touch the floor. I am still trying to process what is happening, what the hell is he doing here. I run to him but something on the floor make me fall but he take me in his arms. I put my head in his neck inhalling his smell. I grip his clothes with my hands, it's like yesterday never happened. He put me down on a chair and go back to the kitchen without saying anything.

He came back with food. It seems I slept over breakfast. The food on my plate is certeinly crocodile meat, it's the only thing he can cook because it's his favorite food apart from the tomato. We eat together and he spent the evening with me at one point we started to dance in the dining room. He told me that yesterday he was already there when I came home and he decided to take a day off from his plan to take control over the country to spend it with me. He had certainly see me cried to sleep.

Before diner, while I was cooking he came with the guy that harassed me the day before. I froze.

He was trying to break in yesterday. Do you know him ?

I explained to him what he had told me before, and how I feared that he make his word true. A wicked smile took form on his face. A dangerous smile for the guy on his knees between us. He tried to speack but sand blocked his mouth.

So you wont be mad if I take care of him.

I was about to say that killing people was not a good thing, but all the fear he had bring to me came to memory.

No. Please, do whatever you want to him.

My hand started to skake and I return to my cooking. What if Crocodile was not there yesterday ? Is it because of him that he decided to take a day off and not my crying ? Or both ? I heard some screams then nothing. I finished the food and put ketchup on the plate to asesonate.

As I turn Crocodile hadn't move but the guy was on the floor, dead and completly dry of all liquid. I made a face at the corps but try to ignore it.

We eat in silence, then.

Next time don't add Ketchup. I hate that.

I know, I just wanted tu put some sauce.

After the dinner he take the corps out and I wash the dishes. When he come back he lift me and walk to the room.

Hey ! I didn't finished !

Tomorow.

He take off all of our clothes leaving us in undergarnement and lie on the bed with me on him.

You're mine and mine alone. so you don't have to fear the others as long as you are with me they wont lay a finger on you.

I smile and kiss his cheeks.

even Whitebeard ?

I asked to tease him.

Frown, what is this question, woman ? If you want be like the other guy you should just ask.

I laugh, it's not easy to have Crocodile as a boyfriend. He's full of himself, he kill people, he plan to take over a whole country. But we know each other since years and not even the gods could not separate us. Or Whitebeard in some case.

[its-a-ittle-bit-cold]

Trying hard to let go

1.6k words

Anakin Skywalker x reader

Waves masterlist

Main Masterlist

Part of the Waves universe, this is sort of a 0.5 story to introduce you to my version of the order etc.

Summary: While on leave, you adjust to life in the city and run into someone who you can never seem to stop finding

warnings: brief argument, grieving the loss of a loved one

a/n: another week, another addition to one of my series! I may find the energy to bust another one out tomorrow, but who knows! Happy reading!

It’s almost as if, since the official commemoration of Master Bosque, a new time period has started. It… feels as if everything that happened when he was alive is the before now, and everything since his death is after. This is strictly after.

You’ve tried and tried and tried to move on. It works sometimes, just distracting yourself, mediating, training the younglings at the Creche, plotting missions you won’t go on. Designing drills and challenges for jedi to practice with (especially Jedi who wield two blades, like you).

Becoming a Master Sentinel has also been an adjustment. After the death of Bosque, you had to take over as the head sentinel on coruscant, moving into an apartment in the highly populated domestic sectors, walking a beat, helping out civilians, catching runaway pets and showing off your lightsabers to small kids (they are always fascinated by the fact that you have, not one, but two white lightsabers, something different, something unique).

You’ve made friends, encounters frequent, while you’re on shore leave, which is how you’ve found yourself in the latest fix: a wedding.

You’ve never been to a wedding before, as all of your friends are Jedi, bound by the code, but your now close friend Callia needed a plus-one to a wedding of one of you other friends, and you weren’t about to let her go alone. So, you had set off to do something you’d never done before: shopping.

It’s a wonderful experience, shopping is. The shops overwhelm you with colors you’d never see in the jedi temple- the flashiest thing you wear is the custom beskar chest plate you’d been gifted after a battle with a high ranking Mandalorian house member. The rest of your attire is strictly shades of brown and the white-and-teal clone armor you wear on your arms in combat. 

So the silks and cottons and lush fabrics of the dress shop you’ve stepped into are a shock to you. Callia- bless her- is a whirlwind who does al the work for you, picking out ten different dresses of varying styles and colors appropriate for a wedding, tossing them (and you) into a dressing room.

After a rigorous amount of spinning and pinching and hemming and “hmm”ing and denying scandalous dresses, you come out with two dresses, one, “just in case,” and to “build your wardrobe,” because Jedi, apparently “dress like colorblind grandmothers,” according to Callia. 

This is how you end up sitting on the bathroom counter of Calia’s apartment, letting her pint your face with brand new makeup - the products she has wouldn’t work on the tone of your skin, considering that she is Pantoran, and therefore, blue.

She’s radiant, of course, with the golden Pantoran formal headdress adorning her light hair, big eyes, drawn in dark eyeliner, light purple dress draped over her thin frame. She won’t let you look at yourself until she’s done with you. She grabs your chin, dabbing a dark pigment on your lips, smiling.

“Okay, look.”

You turn, eyes widening as you take in the reflection of a girl- not a Jedi. Who you could have been, had you found your way to coruscant on your own, without the help of the Jedi.

could you be attending your own wedding?

no.

There’s no room for doubt and The Force. 

You inhale. Was this a mistake?

No, because this is the duty of a Sentinel. Live among the people. Personify the Jedi.

Your dress, a simple sage green dress with a square neck that reaches to your mid-calf, is perfectly fluffy enough for you to hide your sabers under the skirt, thanks to your thigh holsters. 

Your hair is pinned back, artfully framing your face in just the right places, and the makeup Callia has painted on is the perfect simple face. 

Understated, she calls it.

the rest of the night is uneventful- aside from you struggling to walk in your heels, the misting of your eyes at the sight of the pure happiness passing in the bride and groom’s faces as they tie the final bow and celebrate their union. 

It’s warm when the reception ends. You hug your friends whose wedding you’ve just celebrated, wishing them luck through the force, and the you and Callia begin the journey home. On the transit, though, you take off the heels that have been killing your feet, leaving them in plain white socks. It’s okay, because you and Callia are the only ones in this carriage.

The stops drag on as you sit in silence, eyelids drooping, the high fading from the great time you’d had tonight.

The doors slide open to a ruckus, shaking you awake, Callia also takes her head off your shoulder, glancing distractedly at the door. Clones.

More specifically, royal blue painted clones. The 501st.

Fives, one of your favorites of Anakin’s troops, catches sight of you and does a double take.

“General?” he calls out. You smile tiredly at the matching sets of brown eyes that land on you, suddenly feeling completely out of place without your armor, sitting here in civvy clothes coming from a civvy event. 

“Hey, boys,” you say, standing up and bowing to them respectfully, just as you would another jedi. “I didn’t know you were on leave, too.”

“Wait! Hold the doors!”

Another clone voice, and two pairs of pounding footsteps, and then a blond trooper enters. Rex, and… Anakin.

You stop short, locking eyes with him, until Callia breaks your intense stare, nudging you with her elbow, clearing her throat.

“Ah, yes. Everyone, this is Callia. Callia, this is Fives, Jesse, Tup, Kix and Hardcase. Over there, the blond, that’s Rex, he’s the Clone commander for the 501st legion. And… that one,” you point at Anakin, “Is General Anakin Skywalker, a Jedi of the Grand republic, the one I told you about.”

The significance of this phrase is loaded for each of you. 

To Anakin, you suppose this might mean you’ve told Callia everything. Everything that he said, that he did to make you fall apart.

To you and Callia, you’re referring to the one you grew up training with, your former best friend, though you’ve spared her the details of the argument that made everything go south. 

Callia, ever the extrovert, strides forward and pumps Anakin’s hand.

“Nice to meet you! I’m Y/n’s other best friend!”

Well, maybe you left out the former part of the relationship.

“…hi?” Anakin shakes her hand with his glove on, eyes still on you. “Other best friend, huh?”

“Well, she told me how you two grew up together and stuff, so yeah!”

“Callia,” You say. “This is your stop.” 

Indeed, her cue to leave is indicated by the holo over the door. 

“Oh, well, it’s was nice meeting you guys!” Callia waves to the group of clones gathered awkwardly in the corner of the compartment. They all wave back, vaguely confused by the Pantoran girl who promptly bounces out of the transit vehicle, blowing you a kiss right as the doors close. 

“Well, she seems nice,” Anakin tells you, grinning slyly.“Bestie.”

you groan.

How is it that, through the vacuum of space, miles and miles away, you can sense his presence, but on the public Coruscanti transit system, somehow you’re surprised by his appearance?

“She doesn’t seem to grasp that I’m not allowed to have any ‘best friends’.”

Rex shakes his head.

“Don’t know you were living with the civvies, General.”

you shrug. 

“It’s new. just this leave I’ve moved into the city.”

Fives shoulders his way to you, face alight with humor.

“What’s got you all dolled up, General? I didn’t think the Jedi were allowed to wear anything but browns.”

“You know, gives, that’s exactly what my friends said when the saw me.” you wave your shows in the air. “I was at a wedding.”

“A wedding.”

“Yes, Skywalker, a wedding. That’s what civilians do. They go to weddings and they go shopping and do all these pointless things just for the fun of it.”

Anakin steps toward you.

“Civilians? But you’d been doing so well at fitting in, with your friends.” He sneers the last word. “Now you refer to them as others?”

You step towards him, too, narrowing your eyes.

“I can have civilian friends, you know. That’s what Sentinels do. We can’t all just swing out lightsabers and blow things up and walk away without consequences.”

“No, face it, Y/n, you’re running. Like you always do.”

“You’re one to talk about running, Skywalker.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Suddenly, you’re hit with an overwhelming wave of weariness. You’re tired of arguing with him and the tense silences and the broken moments. Biting back a reproach, to tell him exactly what that means, you glance around.

The Clones are probably tired of it, too.

“Whatever, Skywalker. I’m not doing this with you again. It always ends with both of us going home hurting.”

Anakin’s perplexed by this, you can see it on his face. Behind him, Rex has a peculiar expression of relief on his face. He probably just wants to see Jex again without having to separate their generals from another screaming match.

Anakin’s shut up, at least.

“This is my stop. goodnight Rex, boys,” You pause, then, quietly, “Goodnight, Anakin.”

It’s not until you tuck yourself into bed and turn over that you realize that this has been the first day since his death that you’ve not thought of Bosque once. 

Some part of you jolts at the notion of forgetting him, but how could you? He always was and is a huge part of your life, even in his absence.

And you will always hold him near, but that doesn’t mean you have to regret him all day every day.

You felt him today, you realize. Stepping back from the argument, bidding a polite goodnight to someone you could easily hate. 

You can almost feel him hand on your shoulder, showing you the way.

———

Aaaaah starting off with the process of grief! Thanks for letting me ramble to you ;)

[lovesosweeet]

better left unsaid // cth

chapter twenty five

in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn’t know.

calum hood x fem!oc

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september 14, 2018 los angeles, california orion 

Being on my break between chemo cycles means I have essentially nothing to do. My body is still recovering, but the complete lack of structure in my life just gives me the most contrasting current life from the one I’m supposed to have.

I’m supposed to be studying for the LSAT. I’m supposed to be taking 18 credit hours this semester. I’m supposed to be working at the library and having late night study sessions with Emelia and her roommates. I’m supposed to be touring law schools and meeting with my advisors to make sure I graduate on time. 

Instead, I spend my days cooped up in the apartment, nursing myself to a somewhat livable level of health, even though I know I’m about to make things worse again in a few weeks when I start my next cycle of chemo.

Since I have so much time, I decide I want to try to put it to good use. I ordered some yarn and knitting needles and want to learn to knit something. I also ordered a bunch of things that Emelia and Macy love. Once I have some kind of product from knitting, I want to make them little thank you baskets.

I write out thank you cards to both of them when the supplies get delivered, and decide I want to include framed photos of us in the baskets, so I pull out my phone and start to scroll through my camera roll to find photos to print out. 

I realize I haven’t really taken many photos since the boys left for tour. There are some, a handful from each day, from when they were in Australia and Joy and I were texting a lot back and forth. Otherwise, I have a rare photo of Duke, the photos we took with Macy at her apartment a few nights ago, a few selfies of me crying while missing Cal, and that’s about it. 

The journey in my photos back to the boys being here honestly kind of hurts. 

We were so happy, so blind, so unaware to what the future would hold. The boys, aside from Ash, are stil blind and happy. Blissful ignorance. I miss it. I miss them. 

I stop at a photo that Luke had taken of me and Calum without either of us knowing. It was after their rehearsal when we went to the beach. We’re just looking at each other, both of us with a dopey grin on our faces. I’d know we were as in love as we are just by looking at the picture, even if the two people in the photo were strangers to me. The love is just palpable. I can feel it. 

We’re walking up the beach, back towards the others. I’m wearing a black sports bra and matching bike shorts, wet hair messily hanging around my face and my eyes trained on Cal. He’s in a pair of plain black boxers that are wet, too, with his arm draped across my shoulders. 

I start tearing up at the picture and decide to post it to my Instagram story. I type a small message to put along with it. 

“missing u like always. can’t wait for another beach day like this. love u more than anything. <;3 @calumhood”

Almost like clockwork, about five or six minutes after it’s posted, Calum starts calling me.

I try to choke back my tears enough to speak coherently to him over the phone. “Hi,” I finally manage to say.

“Hi, love. What’s going on?”

I shake my head even though he can’t see me. “It’s nothing. Just really feeling lonely today and I miss you so much and—”

“O, breathe.” I realize then that I’ve been hyperventilating. 

“In,” Cal says. I want to roll my eyes and tell him it’s stupid, but I know I need to listen to him, so I take a big inhale.

“Out.” I exhale, and Calum guides me through breathing slowly enough to calm down a bit.

“Sorry,” I say once I’ve regained composure.

“No, don’t be sorry,” Calum insists. “I’m sorry you’re feeling so down and lonely. If it’s any consolation, I miss you tons, too.”

“Don’t miss me, Cal. Enjoy your tour.”

“Okay, yeah, I’ll just totally turn off all my feelings affiliated with my girlfriend, AKA, the person I love most on the whole planet. Yeah, being apart from her for a few months doesn’t suck at all.” 

I roll my eyes at him. “I don’t want you to miss me.”

You’ll have to live the rest of your life without me, I think.

“You might be the only girlfriend on the planet who doesn’t want her boyfriend to miss her,” Cal sounds sad, but he plays it off with a chuckle. “Should I be worried?”

Yes.

“No, I just know how much you love your job. I know how hard you’ve worked to get to where you are. I don’t want you to be thinking about me while you’re living your dreams.”

Calum sighs. “Orion, I’m trying here. You want me to talk to you several times throughout the day, but I’m not allowed to miss you. You’re sad I’m gone, and I can’t tell you I’m sad to be gone without it seeming like I hate my job.”

That shuts me up. I’m sure he’s very confused about what I want from him, and that’s fair, since I’m confused about everything in my life right now. I want Calum to be home and be taking care of me, but I also don’t want him to have to deal with the situation at hand, AKA his girlfriend dying of cancer. I don’t want him to have that looming on his mind while he plays shows to adoring fans around the world. 

My silence invites him to speak again.

“I guess now’s as good of a time as any, but I was gonna ask you about those pictures on Twitter.” 

Pictures on Twitter?

“What pictures on Twitter?” I ask. I put Calum on speaker phone and open up the app.

Just as he starts to speak, I see it. Blurry photos of me and Macy walking out of the hospital a few weeks ago. Both of us look like shit, dressed in comfy clothes, carrying full tote bags over our shoulders, our cheeks sunken in and the bags under our eyes casting dark shadows. 

The headlines attached to it by the shitty gossip sources are insane. 

5SOS Bassist’s Girlfriend Exiting Hospital: What Did He Do to Her? and Long Term Girlfriend of 5SOS’s Calum Hood Seen Exiting Hospital with Mystery Woman are the first two that I see, which, honestly, are enough to predict how everyone else on Twitter is reacting. 

I see more random Tweets about it.

@5SOSUpdates: Orion leaving UCLA’s hospital with a friend recently. Anyone have any info?

@5SOSUpdates1: why tf is Orion at the hospital dressed like she’s homeless

@5SOSUpdates2: orion? At the hospital? Without Cal? Is this why she’s not on tour?

Replying to @5SOSUpdates2: lol I think she’s not on tour bc she’s a student and has class. chill. she’s living her life and not bothering anyone, why do people get so up in arms about her?

@5SOSUpdates3: Bro what does Cal see in her? She looks like shit. Also who tf is that with her lol i thought she only had like one friend.

@5SOSUpdates4: orion walking out of a hospital? I hope everything’s OK. she looks tired. :( 

“Oh, those pictures,” I say it as if I’d seen them in advance and wasn’t looking at them for the first time. 

“You went to the hospital with Macy? Was that just for her cancer?”

God, Calum. He opened another door that, in order for me to walk through, I have to lie. “Yeah, her chemo appointment lined up with my schedule and they take, like, a full day, so I went with her to keep her company.”

It’s not really a lie, but in my gut, I know it is. I feel like an awful person and an awful girlfriend. 

Calum sighs again. “Okay, just thought it was weird that the paps were waiting at the hospital for you.”

“Maybe they were waiting for KayKay? Her grandma was at that hospital.” As I say it, I hope I didn’t just dig myself into another hole I have to lie my way out of. “Weird coincidence, I guess.”

“Shit, yeah, that would make sense,” Calum says. I silently let out a sigh of relief. “Remember? Kay was like ‘you look familiar’ to Macy when they met. I bet they’d seen each other at that hospital.”

I know I don’t normally forget things, but that connection hadn’t happened in my head. It makes so much sense now, too, and I wish I’d put the dots together before Calum had. “Sorry, just weird to see pap or fan photos of you when we aren’t with each other.”

“It’s LA, there are paps hiding everywhere. They see an opportunity and they take it.” 

“You’re right.” 

“I’m always right,” I say, trying to lighten things up with a joke. 

Calum laughs. “You are right an obscene amount of times, yes.”

We both chuckle softly after that.

As we talk, the weight of the Twitter drama starts to lift, replaced by the comforting connection I share with Calum, and I’m glad he believes me. Despite the challenges, we find solace in each other, even if it's just through a phone call.

“Hey, since you’re feeling so down, would you want me to fly you out?”

I want to see Cal. I do. I want to be with him and feel his arms around me and have the most calming, comforting person I have ever met in my presence again. But I can’t see him. I can’t see him for a few days and expect that he won’t have questions about everything and I can’t tell him yet. I just can’t. The pressure is too high. 

I think he hears my breath catch in my throat.

“Is this not a good weekend? I just thought…”

I want to punch myself in the nose. He sounds so defeated and sad. “No, I just… yeah. Not a great weekend. I’m sorry. I wish I could see you, but I think waiting ‘til San Diego just makes the most sense.”

Calum coughs, I think trying to cover up some other noise that he’d like to make that would indicate an upset. “Yeah, fair, we are driving down to Florida after the show tonight and that’s gonna take awhile, I’m not even sure what time we’d get to Orlando.”

I wish everything that’s going wrong here was just a logistics issue. 

“Cal, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being so emotional and I wish that things lined up better to see you sooner.”

Truthfully, my cancer makes me wish I had more time with everyone I love. I want to have people who love me around me all the time. Any time I spend alone feels like time wasted. I love so many people and want to spend as much time as I can with them, but I feel selfish asking for their time. 

Spending time with Calum sounds like the most valuable use my time possible, but I know that as soon as I see him, I’ll have to fill him in on the most devastating news that someone you love could share with you. I have to break his heart and watch it while it falls to pieces. 

“Orion, never apologize for having big feelings,” Calum says. “That’s one of the things I love most about you, especially since it’s something I struggle with. You show how you feel, good and bad, and you’re not afraid to express your feelings. It’s so amazing to watch you. I love seeing how much you love everyone. It’s a beautiful thing and a disheartening thing in a selfish way. I love knowing that you love the people I love, but I sometimes wish that love was reserved for me.”

With each word he says, the more inclined to start crying I feel. I love him so much, so I’m glad it’s reciprocated, but hearing him talk about me and how much he loves me has become painful when it used to make me feel like the happiest girl in the world. 

Every kind thing he has to say about me could be negated the moment he learns that I’ve been lying. 

I take a deep breath, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill over. Calum's words, filled with love and vulnerability, are both a comfort and a torment. I wish I could freeze this moment, let the warmth of his affection surround me a little longer before the impending storm and let the good and bad both have their time in the center of my heart, but instead, I just feel the weight of the negatives. 

“I’m sorry, Cal, I don’t know if I can keep talking about this,” I manage to say between my silent sobs. “I love you. Think I’m gonna take a long shower and have a glass of wine.”

“Orion…”

“I’m fine, okay?” I say with a shaky voice. “Just need to recenter myself.”

His raggedy breath shakes as he does a deep inhale. “If you say so, but remember, I am here if you need me, and I’ve got a good bit of free time over the next few days if you need to talk. Whatever time, whatever day, I’ll answer as soon as I can. You know that, right?”

His words feel like I knife in my heart. “Yes, I know. And thank you. I am so lucky to have you.”

He’s so unlucky to have me.

“I’m the luckiest man in the world to have your love in my life, O. I mean it. I’ll let you go, but please, please call me if you need me.”

“I will,” I lie. This call was a mistake. It’s just going to make him worry about me, which isn’t on my agenda at all. I don’t want him to worry. That’s such a huge part of why I hadn’t told him about my cancer in general. 

“I love you and miss you more than words will say,” Cal says.

“I love you and miss you far more, I swear.”

“Guess we’ll have to agree to disagree. Go take your shower, and I’ll send you a bottle of wine and some ramen, OK? Don’t say no or fight back, I’m gonna do it regardless.”

I choke back a loud sob. “OK. Thank you. Bye, Cal.”

“Good bye, my love. Take care of yourself, please. I need you happy and healthy and by my side come our San Diego show.” 

I have to hang up before I let myself collapse on the floor in a pile of shaking limbs and ragged sobs. His words hurt, even though I know he intended them with the sweetest, most tender love imaginable. It hurts to know I’m doing this to him and he doesn’t even know.

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[midnightcreator12]

For the prompts you're doing * mf deep inhale * FIC PROMPT! The whole squad going to the mall cuz we NEED it! (03' turtles too, if it's alright and doesn't get to messy to write abt cuz dialogues with big groups are HARD, so it would be understandable ngl ;-;) Everybody needs some shopping tours. Aaaaand perhaps Leon getting lost cuz i'm a sucker for stupid things suddenly happening. I love drama.

I am so sorry with how late this is aaand I did try to get the 2003 boys in there but....it was a lot to balance for something I was trying to keep short so I hope it being Post-The Portal Home is okay!

You do know I know what an interworld market is, right?”

“Clearly you don’t because you call it an ‘interworld market’ instead of a shopping mall,” Leo grumbled.

“That’s what you call a large market with a variety of products from multiple regions! I don’t come up with the names for things…although I guess since Earth hasn’t made contact with other planets it would be an inter-nation market?”

“Shopping center,” Donnie corrected from above. “Or, more commonly, the Mall.”

Chula rolled her eyes fondly, leaping from their current rooftop to the next.

Their new member, however, loudly interjected, “Why would you call a building the maul? That sounds like a terrible idea to get people to restock there.”

“Not ‘maul’, a ‘Mall’!,” Mikey corrected.

“That’s what I said!” Seena protested.

Chula laughed now, hard enough that she had to pause or risk mis-timing her next jump. Seena growled as she ran past, pausing just long enough to smack her shoulder. The blow barely did anything but Chula still reached up to rub the spot and let out a tiny whine.

“I know that didn’t hurt! Cut it out Verd!”

Chula laughed again, louder, before moving again.

It’d been a few days since she and Seena had returned to the boy's dimension. Of course, she and Donnie had gotten to work, making plans to try and track down Astra and the battalion. Since it was obvious that combing each possible reality would take way too much time, Donnie had proposed that they work on the transdimensional communicators and pass them out to the various turtle teams in each reality. When she’d asked why other versions of the brothers he’d gone on…quite a rant that basically boiled down to ‘we attract weird, both versions of ourselves that we’ve met attract weird. Any other versions of us are most likely to bump into a magic space wizard and a ship full of human copies.’

It was the best idea they could come up with that could be done in the relative near future but it meant that trying to look before the communicators were done would be a waste of time. Which meant Chula was stuck waiting for that near future to become the present.

And while she’d tried not to mope around too much…one of the boys must have noticed.

She suspected that was why Raph had proposed this outing. She suspected that it was actually a group idea to try and keep her spirits up and to introduce Seena to more Earth stuff.

So, they were breaking into a ‘shopping mall’.

And apparently, shopping malls on Earth were contained in large buildings.

“Why would it be inside?” Seena asked as they peered down at it.

“Where else would it be?” Raph asked.

“Outdoors.”

“Why would you want to shop outside?” Leo said as he pulled out a katana. “Sounds weird.”

“Your planet is the weird one.”

“Children, let us remember that we’re from different realities,” Chula said as she moved away from the roof edge and waited for the portal to be opened.

“...still weird,” Seena muttered.

Her comment went ignored as Leo opened a portal and all the boys hurried to push Chula and Seena through. Leo bounded in last, sweeping his arms wide in a showmen-like gesture, “Ladies, welcome to the Queen’s Place Mall! Our go-to hotspot for all the latest fashions, food and learn valuable lessons about multitasking and prioritizing!”

“Wha-”

“Just roll with it,” Chula cut Seena off before she could finish the question. 

The other boys were already chattering over each other, trying to pull the pair of aliens in every direction as they pointed out storefronts and the food court and Chula picked up Raph mentioning an indoor public gym that he liked to frequent.

Chula chanced a glance to Seena, snorting when she saw how lost her friend was in the middle of the kids' excitement. But she was letting Donnie and Mikey tug her along, stiffly nodding as they pointed out what looked to be a clothing store, so Chula wasn’t that worried.

She turned to Leo, grinning broadly, “She’s goin’ to be comin’ back in a completely new getup, isn’t she?”

“A good chunk of the plan for this was to get her a new fit,” Leo admitted breezily. “Seriously, does everyone in your reality just have the one outfit they wear all the time?”

Chula frowned, “I’m literally wearing a second outfit to what I normally wear.”

“And no offense, but this getup looks like you just snagged it outta a thrift store because you needed a change real quick.”

“Leo!” Raph chastised.

Chula just shrugged. Because Leo wasn’t entirely wrong in his assessment of how she got her ‘casual’ attire.

Leo led the way, taking Chula to another clothing shop. She expected him to open another portal to get past the gate covering the entrance but instead he dropped into a crouch and whipped out a lockpick set from his belt, “Watch and be amazed.”

Chula hummed but let her eyes roam around. The main bulk of the building was a large open area covered in shiny tiles and polished wood. She could see various little stands scattered around and further away a water feature stood as a centerpiece. Above their heads were walkways for a second floor, probably a copy of the first. She absently wondered if this was what the markets on Courcsaunt looked like, perhaps they could bring Astra here and ask when they found her.

The metal gate made a rattling sound and Chula looked back to see Leo swinging open the shop door. She followed both the boys in, eyes scanning again at the new space.

There was….quite a lot of clothing. And accessories and flashy trinkets scattered everywhere.

“Earth doesn’t skimp on the variety, does it?”

“People like to have a lot of choices,” Raph said. “And this one is one of my favorites. They have a lot of plus size options.”

“Which means we can find something in your taste without going to a mens section!”

“Thank Ashla for that,” Chula chuckled. “What are you pullin’ out back there?”

“Oh, just some options,” Leo circled around another rack and out of view. “You are getting the full Earth experience with this!”

Raph wandered off as well, browsing the racks absently. And with nothing better to do, Chula went in another direction to look around.

It really was quite fascinating to see how many different things this one shop had. Granted, for all she knew, the Core Worlds back home were much the same but she’d tended to avoid anything beyond Mid-Rim. And most of the shops and markets tended to only have a handful of things unique to the individual vendors.

But it seemed Earth locals liked having as many choices as possible in one place. Chula would bet her slug-thrower that every other shop and stand in the mall had just as much variety available.

She looked around the racks surrounding her, taking in the bright colors, intricate designs, layers and layers of fabric-

Her eye spotted something bright blue with rainbow accents.

Curious, she wiggled it out from between the other bright colored clothing around it. And smirked when she realized what it was.

Leo and Raph were finding things for her, she saw no reason not to return the favor.

—------------------------

“Have fun?”

Seena sent Chula a seething look. She was carrying her normal armor and wearing a dark gray jacket over a white top and loose pants that matched the jacket, “Seems I’m not the only one.”

Chula chuckled, grabbing the skirt of her new flower printed dress and flapping it dramatically, “Leo has excellent taste.”

“Then why is he dressed up in a Quarf jumpsuit?”

Chula glanced back at Leo, happily showing off the clothing Chula had found for him to his brothers, “He said it’s called a unicorn onesie.”

“Whatever. Did all of this at least cheer you up?”

Chula’s grin became softer as her hand smoothed over the silky fabric of her new ensemble, “Yeah. I think I needed this.”

“Thank Force for that then. I never want to have a ‘makeover’ with those two again.”

“Says the woman wearing that makeover.”

“Shut it Verd.”

Both pause for a moment as the group started moving towards the exit.

Then Seena spoke again, “Sooo, we’re just straight up robbing this place?”

“Donnie said he’d leave money. Non-humans aren’t really…widely accepted on Earth.”

“Ah….so why do you want to live here again?”

Chula grinned, looking back towards the boys just in time to see three of them climbing up Raph, “The company makes up for the need to hide.”

[vapehk1]

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Remember, the right e-juice can elevate your vaping experience from ordinary to sublime, making every puff a delightful journey through taste and scent. Vaping Etiquette and Stealth Techniques In the world of Sky Vape, knowing when and where to vape is just as important as how you vape. Vaping etiquette is not just about rules; it’s about respect. Always be mindful of your surroundings and the people around you. Not everyone appreciates a cloud to the face, no matter how delicious it smells. For those moments when discretion is key, mastering the art of stealth vaping is crucial. Techniques such as the ‘stealth hit’, where you hold in the vapor to reduce its visibility, or choosing a device with lower vapor production can be your best friends in sensitive situations. After all, the art of invisible puffing is something even Harry Potter would appreciate in his invisibility cloak! Conclusion There you have it—a comprehensive, whimsical guide to mastering the skies with Sky Vape. From choosing the right gear to performing vape tricks that would make a dolphin jealous, vaping is an art form that offers endless possibilities. Dive in, experiment, and most importantly, enjoy the journey. After all, it’s not just about the destination; it’s about the fun-filled, flavorful clouds along the way! FAQs 1. What is the best Sky Vape device for beginners? For those just dipping their toes into the vast ocean of vaping, a starter kit from Sky Vape is your best bet. These kits are designed with simplicity in mind, providing an easy-to-use interface, straightforward maintenance, and a balanced performance. They often include everything you need to get started: a device, a coil, a tank, and sometimes even a sample e-juice. It's like the 'Easy Bake Oven' of vaping—minus the tiny, questionable cakes! 2. How often should I replace my Sky Vape coil? The lifespan of a Sky Vape coil can feel as mysterious as the plot twists in a soap opera. Typically, you'll want to change your coil every 1 to 2 weeks, but this can vary depending on how often you vape, the type of e-juice you use, and the power settings of your device. If you start noticing a burnt taste or your vape begins to perform a rendition of a fog machine at a rock concert, it's time for a change. 3. Can I mix e-juice flavors in my Sky Vape? Absolutely, and it's encouraged for the adventurous at heart! Mixing e-juice flavors is like being a bartender at a cocktail party for your taste buds. Start with flavors that complement each other—think strawberry and banana, or chocolate and mint. Just remember, like in cooking, balance is key. You wouldn't want to end up with a flavor that tastes like minty fish, unless that's your thing! 4. Is vaping with Sky Vape healthier than smoking cigarettes? Vaping is generally considered a less harmful alternative to smoking cigarettes, as it doesn't involve combustion, which can release a host of harmful chemicals. However, it's important to note that "less harmful" doesn't mean "harmless." The best approach is to do your research and consider your personal health needs and goals. Think of it as choosing between jumping into a pool or being splashed with a water balloon—either way, you're getting wet, but one is definitely less intense. 5. Where can I legally vape with my Sky Vape device? The legal landscape for vaping can be as tricky to navigate as a labyrinth. It varies widely depending on where you live. Generally, it's best to avoid vaping in places where smoking is prohibited, like inside restaurants, shops, and certain public areas. Always check local laws and regulations to avoid any "no vaping" faux pas. It’s like the game of Monopoly—best to know the rules so you don’t end up in metaphorical jail! If you want to know more, please refer to this article: https://keystonevape.com/best-vape/the-best-disposable-vapes-2024-you-cant-miss/ Read the full article

[abluescarfonwaston]

I would like to be sad a little more.

[atrirose]

♡. WHAT THEY LOVE ABT YOU

𝐅𝐓. OT7 . . . 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 : none , not proof read , rest undercut

𝐖𝐂. 0.6k . . . 𝐆. FLUFF

𝐀𝐍. I am back yall ,, finally can post something hehe, hope u enjoy this :(

i. . .𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆 : your laugh, he would do anything to see you laugh, want him to be a clown? he would, that's how madly in love he is, learns jokes online to make you laugh yeah but that being said they are not always funny :/ “ what do you call a fake noodle” “I don't know hee-” “an impasta” let's just say there was a long pause before you could understand the poor man, and let's NOT talk about how he almost cried

ii. . .𝐉𝐀𝐘 : your eyes, he likes to look at them for a long time, also he likes to see his reflection in it, probably finds comfort in them. he finds himself vividly aware of the love you have for him or how much you care and yearn for him just by looking at your eyes “you lost yn stop pretending, you know I'm best at eye contest” he is not lying and you know that “shut up jay”

iii. . .𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 : your thighs, okay I'm sorry but it's true, he just like to lay on them or put his cold hand between them to tease you, always has your legs on his when sitting down or always has his hand on your thighs squeezing it or just lightly brushing it up and down, members are probably sick of seeing how much touchy he is but if you ask him, he likes getting crushed between your thighs “can I lay between your thigh” he said with puppy eyes “no” immediate pout “yes, it will comfortable for you please :(” “okay, fine”

iv. . .𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍 : your hands, he likes to intertwine your hands with his all the time, always hold your hand while walking and that's a fact, moisturize your hands often, buy you matching gloves. randomly strokes your hands while you sleep “I'm using my special moisturizer on your hands you better be honoured” he just a lil cocky dw “I am hoon thank you :]” he stopped massaging your hands “ that sounded sarcastic” because it was lol.

vi. . .𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎 : your lips, if you ask him, he would say that he doesn’t have any reasons he just likes your lips but it obvious he is in for the kisses, makes you mad at purpose so he can kiss your pouty lips, chooses you lip products himself because he can, loves nude lipstick on you, also likes to kiss you when you have the lipstick on “sunoo don't kiss me right now, the lipstick is not dry yet” kissed you nonetheless because he loves the transfer of your lipstick on him “and you can’t order me around I do what I want” laughs at your annoyed face

vii. . . 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍 : your natural scent, it gives him warmth and relaxation, buries his face as soon as he comes to your house in your neck inhaling you, a big baby, notices in 0.02 seconds if you are wearing any perfume or body mist, he does not mind it but he does prefer natural over them. “did you use the body mist jay hyung got you” “yeah it smells nice right?” “mhm it does”

viii. . .𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐈 : your hugs or cuddles, he is a big baby pt2, likes to be the small spoon and forgets to act all tough like he usually does, as much as he denies it and told you not ever mention it but he fells asleep while you hug him. its just peaceful you know and he is hyper child so this is the only time he can relax “I swear if you open your mouth, yn, about how i fall asleep yesterday, I will force this ice cream down your throat in one go”

[chubbology]

Getting Big

prompt: someone discovering they're a feeder as their feedee partner gets bigger

Sometimes you’re both in bed, distracted and ignoring each other on your phones or laptops, when you notice. Your eyes lift from your phone and notice your partner’s relaxed belly, rising and lowering with calm breath, stretching the fabric of their shirt. Really stretching it now, not just with every inhale, but by default. Not just pushing the seams a little with chubbier hips, but forcing the cotton to bow out close to its limit, forcing the stitching to cave into a belly button deeper and softer-looking than you remember. And your eyes inevitably take in the rest: thicker thighs, more shapely chest, less defined arms, softer jawline.  

You’re aware that your partner’s gained a little weight. More than a little, but it’s fine. Probably thirty or so pounds, not a big deal, and you absolutely don’t judge them for it. Have they mentioned it at all? No, they just keep tugging at their shirts and pants. And underwear. Their underwear is getting too small for them, with weight gain making them a bit of a pear and all, but you don’t say anything. You don’t say they need bigger underwear. You don’t tell them how much you appreciate the fact that they need it. As long as they stay mum on the subject of their weight and the fit of their clothes, so will you; that’s your rule.

Sometimes you’re both in bed, watching TV, and they’re eating their way to the bottom of a quart of appallingly flavored ice cream (super-caramel-quadruple chocolate-chunk type stuff), and you keep sneaking glances. Because you’re amazed they’re comfortable enough around you to eat freely like this—or so you tell yourself. Their eyes are so glazed with distracted pleasure that maybe it didn’t even occur to them not to gorge themselves tonight, right in front of you.

Not gorging themselves like some kind of pig—no, it’s just, you both ordered a lot of takeout just a couple hours ago, and then they snacked on chips for a while, and then there was that candy bar they ate on a whim while you took out the trash, and now it’s a whole quart of ice cream. A whole quart. The more glances you sneak at them, the more you notice how their budding second chin peeks out when they chew. The more you notice that their bites seem hasty, as if tinged by some kind of distant, unconscious desperation.

You lean against them as if too tired to stay upright, reaching over them casually, letting one arm rest against their belly. It’s soft. It’s bigger. Not a big deal at all, you tell yourself for the millionth time.

And yet, you ponder their weight more. You’ve been pondering it incessantly. You can’t stop thinking about how they went to the mall two weeks ago without telling you, bought clothes a size up, and already were uncomfortably tugging and pulling on on every tight band and seam again. You can’t stop your thoughts from wandering to the idea of them sizing up again any more than your partner can stop their hands from opening another package of cookies.

“Ugh, this stuff is so good,” they mutter, swallowing the last bite, then closing the lid on the carton and setting it aside.

“Mm. I’ll buy more then,” you say without thinking. It’s fine if they size up again, after all. You’ll love them no matter their body type. Their happiness comes first. “I’m going to the grocery store anyway.”

A couple months later, going to the grocery store is not a chore to you, but a fun outing. You never used to even go down the junk food isles if you were by yourself, but now you scour them carefully. You place things in the cart you know your partner will like, and consider new brands and products they might like to try. It’s all so colorful and thrilling to actually buy. You tell yourself you might even try some of it and ignore the intrusive thought of your partner sneaking out of bed in the middle of the night again to binge on half the goodies themselves.

What niggles at you isn’t that you’re buying way too much junk food for your partner, who’s a little overweight now. It’s not as if they’ve told you to stop, or have implied they want to lose weight, or have said anything about any of it at all. That’s the thing: you’re in uncharted waters, and they haven’t told you a word about whether they fine with the way the tide was turning or whether they were actually really concerned that they were getting heavy and a little jiggly and they didn’t know what to do about it, let alone have the wherewithal to say, Honey, stop buying junk food. I’m getting fat.

Just the thought of the word makes you blush at the box of Fudge Covered Twinkies you’re holding. You quickly set them back on the shelf. Twinkies were practically the poster food for getting fat, right? Surely, your partner would suspect something, even though there wasn’t anything to suspect. You just know that they like food, particularly food that’s soft and sugary and addictive, and what better, cheaper food to comfort them with than Twinkies? No, it wouldn’t be good for their waistline, but you can already see their eyes fluttering closed at the taste—which was probably not even good, but that was hardly the point, was it?

Compromising, you buy a limited edition blue-stuffed brand of Twinkies instead, preparing an excuse that you thought the novelty of it was amusing and wondered if it was good.

But later that night, your partner eats six of them while you play video games and doesn’t mention the novelty of it at all. Your character dies stupidly and your partner laughs at you, belly jiggling as they do. You swallow, eyes fixating on their fat thighs. There’s no other word for them—they’re fat. Their thighs have gotten fat, just like their belly got fat, just like their hips and chest and arms and even their neck and face has been rounding out with so much chub. They were fat and they did eat like a pig, and all signs pointed to more weight gain. They were going to keep gaining weight, and when was it going to stop? When you finally decided enough was enough? When their doctor told them to take control? Yeah, so, you could imagine them awkwardly saying, coming home from the doctor, I guess I gotta lose weight. Maybe they would be holding a pamphlet on obesity or something, looking ashamed.

And maybe they would try at first. You would help. They’d exercise a little here and there, maybe only eat one Twinkie instead of six, maybe not ask for takeout so often. But it wouldn’t last. The second their will broke, yours would too. And you’d both be in bed, distracted by nothing but endless waves of pleasure that your sex life hadn’t known in a while, them leaning back against the headboard, eating every fattening thing you had to offer, which would be many, many, as many fattening things as they’d agree to swallow down like they glutton they were becoming.

“Babe?”

You blink.

“You okay?” they say with that chubby face of theirs, a face that said, I’ve been gaining so much weight, and you’re really aroused.

“I’m glad you like those,” you stutter. You look at the Twinkies box, and so do they. Your mouth keeps moving without forethought. “I’ll buy you more next time. Any other flavors you like?” You set down your controller and push your hand into their hair affectionately. Since they’re slouched, they look up at you, and you lower your hand to the back of their neck, touching the bulge of the fat there. “Want me to get you your favorite ice cream? I know you had a long day at work.” You stand and head for the kitchen, ignoring your partner’s confused ums and wells.

You open the freezer and get one of many ice cream quarts. Thanks to you, the fridge and freezer have been stuffed to the gills with crap, but you can’t regret it, not when it makes your partner look perpetually stuffed to the gills too. You get a spoon and sit down next to them again, brain fuzzy with want. “You’ll feel better when you finish this. By the time you do, I’ll finally finish this damn level.”

“I’m—I’m not…” But the look in their eyes is conflicted. “I’m not that hungry, really.”

You laugh. Your body is buzzing. “Please. With you, when you eat and when you’re hungry are completely unrelated. Let’s make it a competition! Finish before I do. Go!”

“What?”

You’re already starting the level over, thinking to yourself What the hell? Don’t make them eat if they don’t want to. Even if they do want to, even when they’re full, because they’re greedy and addicted, gonna get obese soon—

A minute passes, and they’re sitting up, belly folded in rolls on their lap, looking poised to either stand up and put the ice cream away or rip the lid off and devour it all.

“Eat it,” you say innocently, or try to. It mostly comes out like a pathetic attempt at sounding not-horny.

You glance over, and they still look conflicted, so you lean over and kiss them on their tubby cheek. “Go ahead,” you say, quieter. You meet their eyes. “Don’t you want to?”

They look taken aback now, flushed. All at once, they seem aware of their blubbery, overweight body, and they shift on the couch. You forget the game and lean in again, kissing them on the lips, then deeper as they lean into you. “I know you want to,” you whisper. You cup their fattened hip, squeeze it gently. “I bet you really want to.”

They’re blushing really hard now, gone shy and speechless. So you move closer to them, and since their head is lowered to avoid your eyes, you land a sweet peck on their bulging second chin. Then you peel off the lid of the carton, tear the plastic off, and push the spoon satisfyingly into the over-processed sugar that has been fattening your partner out of their clothes so well.

Despite their air of reluctance, they eat the spoonful you offer as if on instinct. They squirm with pleasure, and your breath hitches when their plump hand twitches out to take the spoon away from you when you don’t use it quick enough. You scoop them another bite. Then another. The room is quiet except for the game in the background and your rapidly beating heart. Their eyelids lower, and you murmur encouraging words to them. That’s it. It’s good, huh? Big bite... The experience seems no less momentous to them than to you, and so you keep going. Their eyes drift shut and so you guide their mouth to open at the right times. Eventually, your cooing gets bolder.

“I know how much you like this. Like eating. Eating a little too much.”

Their mouth pauses around the spoon, but their eyes don’t open. They swallow and wait for the next bite.

“And I know you get up in the middle of the night sometimes, just to eat,” you say. “Eat and eat until your clothes feel tight and your stomach’s queasy, right? You always come back to bed so uncomfortable, tossing and turning, panting a little. Holding back little burps. I wake up and all the junk food I bought is gone.”

Your partner leans into to your next spoonful, then takes it from you. Without meeting your eyes, they start eating from the tub themselves, at twice your pace. You smooth your fingers through their hair. Then rub a hand down their arm, which was now sausage-like with so much fat clinging to it. But it’s squishy, when you pinch it. No firmness anywhere you can see.

“I’m sure you know you’re getting big, baby. You’re getting big. But that’s okay.” You rub your hands over their belly, their hips, their rolls of back fat. “You just keep eating as much as you like.”

And after another pause, they nod.

[mercy-burning]

Honeybee

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: While attending Seraphina's wedding, Y/N discovers that her crush on her best friend’s older brother hasn’t gone away after all these years. Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Strong language, alcohol consumption, fingering, penetrative/protected sex Word Count: 5.7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: I know I promised a oneshot over the weekend, but I’m a messy, inconsistent bitch, so you get it a day late 😅🥰

———

Looking back, I was starting to wonder if Seraphina only got engaged and asked me to be her maid of honor just to witness my slow descent into a heaping puddle of lovesick mush.

Truly, it was pathetic.

Yeah, yeah, she was getting married because she loved her fiancé and whatever, obviously, but she was also using it as an excuse to try and get me to admit my feelings for her older brother. Feelings, I might add, that only surfaced when I was a middle schooler and went away once he went off to college.

Sure, I'd thought about him on occasion when he was inevitably brought up around Sera's house throughout the years, but that was it. I'd hardly say I was hard-core in love with him. And I was totally prepared to see him for the first time since our high school graduation.

At least, I thought I was.

And Seraphina—the little shit—knew it, too. The smirk on her face the moment we were all in the same room for the first time in ten years made me want to run and hide more than her brother's figure, right in front of me and hotter than ever.

I was mad. Not at Sera as much, because really there was nothing she could do about the fact that he was her brother, but I was mad at myself. Because how in the hell had it stood to reason that a man I actively didn't think about for a whole decade had this much of an effect on me after all this time?

Honestly? I blame the FBI.

If he'd done literally anything else with his life I probably could have made it. Well, not by much if we're being honest, but come on...

Where he'd been a bit nerdy and reserved as I knew him, the man in front of me had clearly changed. Not just physically, though that was also a pleasant surprise. He looked like he'd been through some shit... And he carried himself taller. There was a new air of confidence that perched on his shoulder and helped him along as he talked with old friends and family members at his sister's rehearsal dinner.

Spencer Reid was older and more experienced this time around, and somehow even more goddamn delicious...

I was a total wreck. And it was about to get a whole lot worse.

He was coming this way. Right for me. He'd noticed me staring at him all night, because I couldn't keep my shit together, and now I was absolutely doomed.

Guess it was a good thing I'd practically grown up with him and knew how to act outwardly.

Still, the moment he was up close and flashing me that little smile of his, I felt the pit of my stomach scream out loud, sending shockwaves through my bloodstream.

"Hey, Honeybee. It's been a while."

Fuck. That fucking nickname...

"Spencer... It has."

When we hugged briefly, I tried as hard as I could not to inhale his scent, knowing that not only was that pathetic and embarrassing, but also I'd never stop smelling it otherwise. I did take note, though, of how strong he was now. He wasn't a bodybuilder of any kind, but he was certainly less bony and more defined.

I had to hold back a whine as I felt him let go of me, because I didn't want to leave his warm embrace but also because I didn't think I could stand to look at his face anymore without losing any and all semblance of my cool.

Still, I let him release me, and even then he didn't go far. We only stood inches apart, and my whole body was practically numb at the proximity. It also didn't help that I had to tilt my head up to see his face— It made me feel extremely submissive, and I could already feel myself starting to shrink.

Whether he was amused at that or just at me in general, the feeling I got was the same.

"Sera tells me you've been busy..." He paused, seemingly searching for the right word, though I could tell he already had it on the tip of his tongue. "Modeling?"

I closed my eyes with a sigh. "It was one job for some obscure European magazine, no one in the country's probably ever heard of it... It's not that big of a deal."

Spencer huffed a laugh. "You sound embarrassed..."

How was I supposed to respond to that? If I lied and told him I wasn't embarrassed, he'd figure it out, and if I told him the truth? I'd still be screwed. Honestly, my best bet was changing the subject.

Though, maybe it wasn't— When I asked him about his travels for work, he ignored it and responded with, "Ah, so you are embarrassed."

"N— I am not!"

"You changed the subject so fast I barely had time to blink... There's nothing to be ashamed of, Honeybee, I don't know why you'd—"

"Look, dude, I'm not ashamed, and I'm certainly not changing the subject. We were on the subject of jobs. So there."

I was aware of how childish I sounded, but I stood my ground nonetheless. And thankfully Spencer seemed to let it go, though not without amplifying that amused sparkle in his eye.

"Okay... Well, I've got some more people to see, but, uh... I'll see you around. Maybe you can show me some of your work."

He didn't even give me time to protest. Though if he had, I was sure I wouldn't have been able to get any words out what with that goddamned face he had, twisted and sculpted into all these beautiful ways that were designed specifically to make me a blubbering hot mess.

I could only gather the courage to nod in response, though he'd turned his back and walked away by the time I got it out.

———

All things considered, I'd managed to avoid him for the majority of the wedding festivities. I focused all my energy on being happy to see my best friend get married, and likewise it seemed that Spencer was inclined to do the same.

He walked his sister down the aisle, and seeing them both so happy truly made my heart sing. To think I'd known them since we were all kids more or less, and now they were both successful, beautiful human beings... It warmed me to my core, and despite the other flames that stung my insides at seeing Spencer in his tux, thing were going swimmingly.

That being said, we were just about two hours into the reception, and there was absolutely nothing stopping me from begging Seraphina to put me out of my misery.

Except maybe pints upon pints of alcohol.

In hindsight, that may not have been a good idea, though. Because as much as the open bar had it benefits, it also hated me. It was mostly my fault, because I was stupid enough to forget that I get frisky when I'm drunk, but that didn't stop me from blaming the bartender for continuing to serve me.

I wasn't quite at the point of all-out inebriation, but I was definitely toeing the line between tipsy flirting and total disaster.

And when Spencer came over to ask me to dance, I knew I was doomed.

I didn't find myself caring about what he was saying, only the fact that he was there, in front of me, putting his hands on me and breathing in the same air that I was putting out. My entire body buzzed, and while I would have panicked otherwise, my tipsy brain welcomed the tingle and made me a bit bolder.

"You enjoying yourself tonight?" he asked, like he couldn't already tell that I was having the time of my life.

"No way. You suck at dancing." The joke rolled off my tongue with ease, a product of years spent teasing him for countless things.

And just like all those times before, he rolled his eyes and then immediately flashed an affectionate smile all the same.

I should have stopped there, maybe tried to do something a bit more romantic like teach him how to dance... Placing his hands and fixing his posture, taking the time to gracefully have an excuse for exploring his body with my hands...

But romance took a backseat when I pressed myself in even closer to him and hummed just under his jawline. "Mmm, but I bet you're good at other things..."

I felt his hands grip my waist just a little tighter, and his throat visibly twitched. "How much have you had to drink, Honeybee?"

"Spencer," I whined, pressing my face into his neck. "Don't tell me you're turning me down, please..."

I could tell by the way he was touching me, his hands wavering and undecided, and the way his heartbeat thrummed loudly and quickly against my own that he wanted nothing more than to entertain my desires.

The thought made me quiver and press further into him. I kissed his jawline tenderly, silently begging him to whisk me away and finally make me his, but it broke my heart a little to feel him peel away from me.

When he looked into my eyes though, I swore the gleam in his own is what put me back together. It could have been the liquor swimming around in my body that made me feel lightheaded, but when Spencer lifted my chin with his fingers and looked me over, I knew that wasn't it. It was wholeheartedly, without a doubt, him.

"Tell you what... You get sobered up by the end of the night, and maybe I'll come find you."

I wanted to nod, but his gentle grip on my chin held me steady—At least until he glided his fingertips down my throat and over my shoulder. Then I downright slumped forward with a whine and a weak nod that seemed to make him smile.

"Thank you for the dance," he said earnestly, leaning forward to press the lightest of kisses to my temple.

Just like that he was gone, and I wanted him back almost immediately.

———

And so the night dragged on, and the longer I sobered up the more it dawned on me what the fuck just happened— What the fuck was going to happen, too, if I played my cards right.

It didn't help that I could practically feel Spencer's eyes on me the whole time. Probably to make sure I really wasn't drinking anymore, a fact that only made this feel more real.

On top of it all, I was starting to lose count of the amount of men here who were trying to buy me drinks. Even if the one man I really wanted tonight hadn't given me a deal, I still wouldn't have accepted them, if only for the pathetic fact that I would have been trying to catch his attention instead.

So much for trying to convince myself I wasn't in love with him...

Was that really what it was? It had to be, right?

Either way, I was determined to find out, and that meant declining every flirtatious offer to drink and dance.

Unfortunately, Seraphina seemed to notice, even on the one day in her entire life she shouldn't have been thinking about anyone but herself. "You're not having fun," she pouted, plopping down next to me and handing me a shot. "Have fun."

I laughed and set the tiny glass down on the table. "I am having fun, I'm just... tired. And being hungover tomorrow does not sound fun."

"Mmm," she responded, visibly suspicious.

I didn't really know what to say to her to convince her not to be though, so I grabbed her hand and smiled. "You're having fun though, right? 'Cause I will not hesitate to kick someone's ass if you're not."

With a bellowing laugh mildly tainted with the smell of champagne, Seraphina squeezed my hand and leaned in close. "I'm having the best time. I couldn't be happier."

"Well, good. You deserve it."

After a small moment of silent shared smiles, my best friend glanced over elsewhere and then back to me with that look in her eye that kind of scared me.

And her words were even scarier... "So, you talk to Spencer at all tonight?"

"Uh— Yeah... Briefly."

"Mhmm... Y'know, I saw you two dancing together earlier. You seemed reeeally close..."

There I was, getting defensive in front of a Reid sibling for the second time that night. And just like before, I was awful at being subtle. "Sera, stop it! It was just a dance..."

"Bullshit! He had his hands all over you, and he had that gross-ass, dreamy-ass look in his eye! He so wants to sleep with you!"

"Sera!" I gently shoved her and tried not to smile at the goofy smile she had plastered on her face.

"Am I wrong?"

"I... I don't..."

"Ha! I'm not wrong!"

The defeated look in my eye did nothing to disconfirm her story.

"So, what's stopping you from letting him?"

I went wide-eyed. "Se—You... You seriously would... You're okay with this? It doesn't... gross you out?"

There were a lot of things I could have seen Seraphina do in that moment, but pinching and yelling at me were not any of them. "Y/N! You idiot! I've been trying to get you two together for years! If I knew all it took was me getting married, I would have accepted Theo Decker's proposal..."

"Wa— In fifth grade? Sera, that wasn't—"

"I know, but you get what I mean! You two are so painfully attracted to each other, it physically hurts me. It's actually disgusting, but if it means there's a chance that you might get to be my sister? I say go for it."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "You... You really mean that?"

"What, you think I'd joke about that?"

Everything that she conveyed to me within the look in her eyes, her words, and the squeezing of her hand over mine told me she was sincere.

"I love you, you know," I told her just as sincerely.

Her smile was as radiant as ever, but the teasing tone in her voice was enough to make me scowl again. "Right back at'cha, Honeybee. Just do me a favor and don't tell me any details. I don't wanna know."

I stuck my tongue out at her, followed by a short shove. "Oh, and as soon as you get back from your honeymoon? I'm kicking your ass for telling him about that nude shoot I did for that magazine..."

She only grinned. "Why? I think I did you a favor..."

I rolled my eyes at her, but in the end, I guess she was right.

———

I shouldn't have been pacing. Really, it was pretty fucking embarrassing the way I walked in circles around my hotel room, waiting for a knock at the door or a text message on my phone, or something to let me know that Spencer had really meant what he said and was on his way to come find me.

I didn't have a single drink after we danced, and I swear to God, if he made me go through this entire night all nervous without the liquor to calm me down, for nothing? I was going to kill him tomorrow.

Later today... Whatever.

The point? I was well and truly ready to feel him taking up my personal space, and I was going to feel like a real idiot if I waited around and prepped and everything, only for him not to show. The funny thing was, it was almost two in the morning, and I would have stayed up until the sun rose for him.

Thank God he had the decency to save me the trouble.

A short two-rap knock on the door made me jump, but I ran at it full-speed, flinging the large wooden panel open and letting its momentum blow cool wind over my body. And I needed it, too.

Because standing right in front of me was Spencer Reid in all his semi-exhausted glory. His outfit was loosened, buttons undone and bowtie untied, hanging limp around his neck. His hair sat wild atop his head and a thin layer of sweat coated his skin. Maybe that last part sounded gross, but looking at him? It was anything but.

Especially when he flashed me that damned smirk. "Someone's eager..."

I tried not to sound as dumbfounded by his presence as I felt. "Well, you made me a good offer I couldn't refuse. Excuse me for being excited."

"And here I thought all this time you hated me, Honeybee..."

"That would be easier, wouldn't it?"

His grin transformed into a full-on beaming smile then, and it only made my skin feel warmer and my heart beat faster. I returned his smile with my own, so genuinely happy to see him again after all this time, and with the brightest show of happiness I'd ever seen.

Turns out, smiling like a lovesick idiot was all I was capable of.

"Are you... gonna let me in?"

The low suggestive tone in his voice had me springing into action, stepping back and allowing him the space to come in. And though he had plenty of room, Spencer still decided to brush his body over mine as he passed. His eyes bore into my own as he gently kicked the door shut and enveloped us in a dimness that came from cheap hotel lighting.

Still, I was unable to speak, and hardly able to even breathe, with each passing second.

And then, his hands were on my waist, pulling me to him with a softness that matched the whisper in his throat as he said, "C'mere..." Looking up at him then, his fingers burning holes through the thin fabric of my dress while he looked back down me, eyes swimming in tender desire... It almost didn't even feel real.

And it certainly didn't feel real when he leaned in, one of his hands coming up to touch my face while the other pressed me firmly against him.

The moment his lips touched mine, I was gone. I positively melted into him, so much so that it felt like I was just becoming a part of him entirely, losing myself in the moment and unwilling to let it go.

Even when he sighed against my lips and parted his own to kiss me deeper, I just followed suit and let him take the lead. We moved together as one, fluidly and with as much eagerness was possible. I'd wanted to get a taste of him for so long, and he obviously felt the same way, what with the thorough and precise exploring his tongue did with my own. It shot warmth throughout my whole being, and my legs threatened to buckle underneath me from how weak they felt.

Spencer seemed to understand what was happening to me, because as soon as I'd thought it, he was just as quick to literally sweep me off my feet, scooping me up bridal style and carrying me over to the large bed in the middle of the room.

"I know we're at a wedding and all, but geez," I laughed, watching as he laid me down gently and crawled over my body. "A little much?"

He only rolled his eyes. "Well, excuse me for trying to be romantic..."

"Mmm, I think you're just being an overachiever. As per usual."

That remark earned me a pinning of my wrists above my head, and the fire that erupted in my very core at my current position only cemented that this was very real.

Spencer grinned, his hips coming down to roll over mine teasingly. He spoke nice and slowly, his voice slicing through my soul like smooth butter. "Oh, Honeybee, I'll show you an overachiever..."

Once again I was rendered speechless. Not like I expected to be talking his ear off or anything, but words genuinely escaped me.

Luckily, Spencer didn't seem to mind. In fact, he knew exactly what to do next, and it made me even hungrier for him than ever before.

He captured my lips in another dizzying kiss, his hands still flexing over my wrists to keep them steady. I moaned softly and writhed against him, and though I would have liked to say that it was a conscious choice to coax him to give me more, really it was just me being unable to handle the fact that this was actually happening.

Actually, if not for the overwhelming and familiar scent of him, I would have thought I was only imagining it.

But alas, here he was in all his floral peppermint glory, grinding his hips down into mine and kissing me like I'd never been kissed before, driving me mad with each adept movement.

Thankfully he seemed to get as lost in the moment as I was, because he loosened my wrists in his grip, and I broke free, flying my hands in between us and down to his belt.

His lips pulled away from mine with a soft smack, a smile forming smugly upon them. "Have you no patience?"

As my fingers fumbled with the metal and leather, I pressed my nose to his and quickly pecked his mouth. "I thought we already established that I have no patience the moment I opened the door..."

"Fair... But still..."

Spencer grabbed my hands again, moving them to my sides and then hiking my dress up slowly. His skin was hot against my own, and it took everything I had not to break down begging for him.

And then he spoke again, his lips barely grazing mine as he did. "Teasing you is so much fun..."

I couldn't really explain what sound escaped me then, but it reminded me of a disgruntled animal, erupting from my throat and getting muffled the moment I took my hands and brought his face to mine. I kissed him fervently as his hands matched the intense nature of my affections— With every soft groan I gave him, he returned it with an inch higher up my leg, until eventually he was toying with the hem of my underwear.

Unable to take it anymore, I gave in and mumbled the most desperate plea I could think of. (Like I had to think that hard...)

"Spencer, please..."

I half expected him to tease me again, but this time I felt him tremble over my body. His fingers slipped under the satin of my underwear and he sighed into my mouth. "God, how could I ever say no to you..."

No sooner had the words left his mouth did he spread me apart with his fingertips, getting a feel for me and a broken sigh falling from his tongue and onto my own. I captured it and kissed him with as much precision as I could while under the influence of his hands working wonders.

Truly, his hands hand a magic of their own that should have been considered as an eighth Wonder of the World. They flexed in all the right places, splitting me open and caressing the most sensitive parts of me, simultaneously breaking me apart and putting me back together...

God, and those was only his hands...

The thought of what else he had waiting for me made me cry out into his mouth, though I'm sure it also had to do with the fact that his fingers were curling expertly inside me and summoning an orgasm that I knew would satisfy us both.

I almost cried out again when his lips left mine, but then they travelled to my neck and paid it the most glorious attention. The alternation of his fingers and his tongue on different spots of my body had me in shambles, and it took no longer than a few seconds to snap.

"Fuck, that's my girl," Spencer grumbled into my neck, helping me through my orgasm. "That's it, honey..."

What I wouldn't have given to hear him talk to me like that until the end of time... His words, their tone and praise seeping into my skin and bringing my soul to life... Coupled with his soft hands and his even softer breath fanning over my neck, I was just about ready to ask him to keep talking to me, to say my name and never stop.

He pulled away though, removing his hand from my lower half and bringing it up to his mouth, and I had the feeling my request wouldn't be a problem.

Spencer's eyes rolled back and his tongue gathered my arousal off his long, well-endowed fingers. And though I could hear his groan well and clear, I felt it more than anything. It reverberated through my body and brought me more to life in a way I never thought imaginable.

No one had ever made me feel that way with one single sound, and that's how I knew.

I thought I knew it from the start—from when we were growing up—that I wanted to be near him forever. But It was always just a silly dream, something I was never quite able to reach, and as I got older and we rarely saw each other, it got harder to even imagine anymore.

Now I didn't have to imagine.

Spencer Reid was right in front of me, touching me, tasting me, verbally praising me with sounds I'd only ever dreamed of...

I wanted him to have his moment, because I was positive he'd wanted this just as much as I did, but this sappy sort of revelation I was having made it nearly impossible to not be utterly wrapped up in him, and I wanted more.

So I wiggled and adjusted myself underneath him before grabbing his hand and placing it over my heart. His eyes widened softly at the sight of me, and I knew then that he was taking the time to memorize my face, and the image of his hand resting at my chest, right where my heart was encased beneath bones, flesh, and fabric.

"I could look at you forever," he whispered then.

I would have been ashamed to admit that I whimpered when he said it, but the way he looked at me afterwards made me feel the exact opposite.

He smiled, using his other hand to come up and touch my face. "You want it bad, don't you, Honeybee?"

I didn't even argue with him this time. My head nodded and my hands reached out to pull him closer. "I want you... More than I've ever wanted anything."

Before he leaned down to kiss me, I could have swore he looked like he was going to shed a tear. The duality of him, his ability to be all teasing and cocky one second and then reduced to a lovesick mess at just a few words from me the next, made my heart sing.

And it kept singing, a sweet, steady melody as Spencer kissed me and touched me like he meant it.

Only this time, he didn't pause or tease me with theatrics. He went straight for the kill, fetching a condom from his pants pocket and then sliding the material down, all while keeping me trapped under his embrace. I welcomed it naturally, humming happily into his neck and jawline and anywhere I could reach as he got us both fully undressed and situated, until finally he had the condom on and his hands rested nicely on either side of my head.

"Promise not to sting me?"

I laughed, draping my arms over his shoulders and flashing him a wink. "Mmm, only if you promise to give it to me good..."

"Deal."

He slowly pushed into me then, and the stretch was far more satisfying than his fingers, though I was in no position to complain either way. If he was even half as skilled with his hips as he was with his hands (which I had no doubts about whatsoever), then neither of us had anything to worry about.

It didn't take long for us to find our rhythm, but I didn't have time to think about that. I was so consumed with just the feeling of him being everywhere that technicalities didn't matter.

That being said, the technicalities were really fucking good.

His hips snapped into mine with sharp precision, and I felt it deep within my bones. My cunt clung around him willingly and accordingly, as did my legs, which hooked over his waist as I dug my heels into his ass.

Meanwhile Spencer grabbed my hands and pinned them above my head again, this time interlocking our fingers and then leaning down to kiss me deeply. It was met with my undying welcome, of course, but with the way he was fucking me, deep and with a devotion that nearly exploded my heart, I couldn't help but whine out for more.

His name was all I could manage.

"What do you want, Honeybee?" he cooed, holding himself deep inside me and grinding his hips in small circles that made it harder to breathe.

"M—More... I..."

"Can you be more specific?"

How he could be such a cocky little shit in this moment I wasn't sure, and it frustrated me to no end. He knew damn well what I wanted, and I knew just the thing that would make him give it to me.

I have him the biggest pout I could, also whining out the most pathetic, "More," in my arsenal. And with a roll of my hips up into his, I gasped out at how deep he got, and whined out again.

"Spoiled brat," Spencer grunted in defeat, retreating only to slam into me at full force.

My small gasps and cries turned into full-blown howls of searing pleasure as he fucked me then. My head tipped back and my back arched slightly, exposing my neck and chest to him, and he took it as an invitation to lean down and put his mouth anywhere he could reach. I was sure there would be small nicks and bruises littered over my skin the next morning, and just thinking of everyone seeing them, seeing Spencer's mark on me, made it harder to prolong the inevitable.

I came with a shout, flexing my hands into his as my body tensed then relaxed, over and over while he whispered praises into my skin. He followed soon after, shoving his face into my neck and muffling the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard as he came.

By then his hands had loosened, so I snuck my own away from his and brought them over to hug him close. One hand knotted into his hair while the other grazed over his back. The thin sheen of sweat forming over his skin once again was more enticing than it probably sounded, but I loved it all the same. I felt him relax and bring his arms down to rest at my sides, his fingertips dancing lightly over my skin and giving me goosebumps.

Then out of nowhere, he said something that confused and mildly panicked me. "I thought you said you wouldn't sting me..."

I pulled away to try and look at his face, loosening my grip on his body. "A—Am I hurting you? I'm sorry..."

He laughed though, peppering tiny kisses up my neck until he got to my jaw. "You're not hurting me, Honeybee... You've just... stung my heart, that's all."

"I... Is that a bad thing?"

"It's a strange thing..."

He looked at me like I was the one thing on the planet he adored, but his words sounded different.

I raised an eyebrow. "You're not helping me understand..."

With another laugh, Spencer Kissed my cheek and rolled off of me, settling for laying on his side and turning me to face him. "Do you remember how I gave you your nickname?"

Despite my confusion about all of this, I entertained him with a huffed laugh. "Yeah, I spilled honey all over my shorts without realizing it, and I had ants all over me in a matter of minutes. I was terrified."

"I was highly amused."

I shoved him. "Yeah, dork, I know you were! You and Seraphina both thought it was the funniest thing on the planet, and then your mom had to come out and spray me down with a hose before I came back in the house."

Spencer barked a laugh, and I wanted to punch it right out of his mouth.

"Tell me again why this is relevant to our current situation?" I reminded him with and sigh, already over his antics.

Thankfully he seemed to take pity on me; He reached a hand out and played with a strand of my hair, smiling even brighter than when I opened the door for him. "That's when I started to feel it. You were just... so cute all angry at me and Sera for laughing, and it... It changed everything."

"You know, that would be more romantic if I hadn't been covered in bugs," I responded with a laugh.

"It's true! And it confused the hell out of me, because how was I supposed to cope with the fact that I actually had a crush on my little sister's best friend like some stupid cliché? You were always so feisty after that, too, and it certainly didn't help... And when I graduated and went off to college, I thought... I thought there was no chance you would ever be able to break the heart you'd managed to steal."

He swiped his thumb gently over my bottom lip and smiled, his eyes going all tear-y again. It sent butterflies through my whole body.

"I would never even dream of breaking your heart, Spencer..."

Our foreheads pressed together then, and the unwavering adoration in his voice when he spoke made me forget all prior confusion and minor embarrassment over re-living our origins.

All that mattered was that he was here, holding me in his arms and making me feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

"I know you won't, Honeybee."

———

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[jiminzfilter]

slow dancing in the night

→ Pairing. Taehyung x reader

→ Genre. established relationship, fluff, slice of life, model!taehyung, model!reader, taehyung missed you a lot, he is starving (his words not mine), gets a bit hot by the last 40 lines, mentions of oral (f) so I guess this counts as mature content, implied smut, making out (kinda), there is a bit of swearing

→ Summary. what could possibly be better than coming home after a long day of work to someone you love and missed a lot ?

→ Word count. 3.2k (!!!)

→ because I wrote this over a year ago when I still didn't know what I was doing with my writing, I had to go through a deep process of editing and re-writing before posting it. This might not be my best work but it's still a fic that I really really like :,)

→ song rec. slow dancing in the dark, Joji// still with you, Jungkook

Fridays have always been exhausting days for both you and your boyfriend, especially on runways weeks. As models, you were put under a lot of pressure.

Pressure to be perfect, to smile but never smile too much, to look good, to not fall on stage.

Falling has to be the most tragic thing that can happen to your carreer as a model, the hungry stares of thousands of photographers and reporters ready to share the latest news to the press.

Yeah, it was exhausting.

This week was no exception... or maybe it was since, this time, you were the only one working until late.

It’s four in the morning and you’re already on your way out - kind of running late, oBviOusLy - quietly wishing your boyfriend a good day.

He is not working today.

That lucky bastard.

He gets to enjoy his free day in bed, lazing around, while you work your ass off all day. He mumbles something that you assume is a sort of goodbye. He is still asleep.

You look at him one last time before leaving the room and smile. He looks so peaceful.

You still remember the day you met, by pure luck even though you both call that fate. That was 5 years ago, when you just debuted your career as a model and were not that comfortable around high heels.

Okay no. Let’s be real.

You hated wearing them because you couldn’t walk in heels higher than 5 cm.

It’s still a wonder how you managed to make it in the first place.

Were you wearing flat shoes for the audition ? Damn you really must’ve done an impression on the judges if they made you pass without the heels try-on.

Your first day at the agency was chaotic to say the least. Your manager made you walk around the building, to visit she said. She made you wear heels. HEELS. That devilish person.

But, thank to that, you got to meet Taehyung. Your eyes landed on him as you were visiting the lounge and couldn’t tear them away from his figure. The poor man had to witness you fall down because you weren’t watching your steps anymore.

I mean.

Who could blame you ??

That was Kim frEaking Taehyung

!!!

He even came to help you get back on your feet and asked if you were alright, kind of amused.

It’s not everyday you see someone falling down in here, let alone a newbie

Let’s be honest, you were so embarrassed.

First day of work and you’re already failing falling.

That night when you came home, you spent the night wearing heels and prayed really hard you’d never have to face him again. After all, the building was big enough and there were enough workers that you could avoid Taehyung easily

If only

The NeXt day, you were told that you had a couple shooting, with none other that Kim Taehyung.

GreaT

He would occasionally tease you about your fall and check on you to see if everything was alright. He watched you carefully as you were walking around with heels.

From up close he looked even more handsome.... :)

After this day, you started talking with Taehyung more and more. He introduced you to everyone around the agency. You met outside of work, got to know each other. You both became regally good friends but there was something lingering in the air, in the way you’d look at each other or stood so close to him after a couple glasses of wine that you could breathe his air.

So what was bound to happen happened and you went from friends a to lovers without really noticing it.

He was still your best friend...somehow

Eventually, you took things to the next level and moved in together... maybe a half and a year ago or so ? You’ve never been happier in your life

And, well, you’d actually be happier if you could spend the day with boyfriend instead of running around trying to find god knows which accessories you need for the rehearsal.

8 in the morning is noT a time to be doing cardio.

Especially while wearing heels

Become a model they said, it’ll be fun they said

“Y/n! Come here please I need you to try on this dress before you go!” Your personal stylist calls “I made sure to fix it yesterday so it’d be a perfect fit for the show”

You stop your tracks and go to her “make this quick i have to go get changed before 9 otherwise I’m screwed. Why did they even decide to do the rehearsals so early today ?” You sigh, frustrated, and put on the dress she’s handing you “thank you”

“Okayyy...it looks great. Gold looks amazing on you.” She smoothes the dress and gives an approving nod, visibly satisfied ; “You’ll look perfect for the Grand Finale. Oh god it’s already 8:30 you better go before Mr.Kim throws a fit because you’re late”

You both giggle ; “thank you for fixing the dress Naeun, see you later today. Well, probably tonight. Byeeee”

The rehearsal seems to never end. You’re squeezed in dozens of different outfits, gorgeous for sure but sO tight. Mr. Kim, the one who organised the runway, is such a perfectionist that you have to re-do some things multiple times before he’s satisfied. One time the lighting isn’t right, the other the models are walking too fast, not on beat and so on.

Everyone hates him for that but he always makes the best shows so you just follow.

After multiple tries, the rehearsal finally comes to an end. It’s already 4PM. You barely get time to breathe and go pee before you’re back into the ‘running-around-to-find-my-dress-and-fix-my-makeup-oh-god-i-gotta-be-on-stage’ crazy mess.

Walking on the runway feels amazing, running backstage is terrible.

It’s so hot and small back there you can hardly move around well.

It takes 2 hours for the whole fashion show to be over, one more for pictures outside the catwalk and chat with reporters. Since you’re kind of a famous model now, you get invited to the afterparty and spend few extra hours interacting with some celebrities that attended the show. Other models were invited and you’re happy to see familiar faces amongst them. Jimin, an old colleague and friend of yours, comes your way and compliments you. You chat with him for a while before deciding you’ve had enough for the day and leave the party. A few more people greet you on your way out.

A taxi takes you back to you company, where you left your stuff in the morning. You spend an extra thirty minutes getting rid of your heavy makeup and striping off that gorgeous but awfully tight golden dress you’ve been wearing ever since the end of the runway.

Now, you can FinaLLy go home. yassssss

It’s almost 12am when you leave the agency and climb into yet another taxi. The ride is quiet, background music playing over the car’s radio, and you take some time to look at what you were gifted for your performance : fancy makeup products, accessories, pieces of clothing-but not those from the runway, you sadly never get to keep those. Being kinda famous has its perks :,)

You then decide it’s time to warn Taehyung you’ll arrive soon and send him a few texts. As if he was waiting for them, he instantly replies saying he’ll be waiting for you and proceeds to spam you with heart emojis. Sometimes, it looks like this man just discovered what emojis were and is trying to use them as much as possible. What a child…

It’s way past midnight when you finally step into your duplex and the first thing you notice is that the place is way too quiet.

Maybe Tae went back to sleep, who knows, it’s super late after all…

:(

You remove shoes and jacket and drop your bags in the entrance before going further and you call out quietly “anyone here? Tae, you sleeping?”

There is a faint glow from the tv on your right but the sound has been muted.

Weird…

“Taehyung ?" You call one last time

Suddenly, two strong arms wrap themselves around your waist and you’re pulled into someone’s chest. You gasp, almost scream, but soften up when you feel the warmth on your back

“Hi baby” a deep voice says in your ear, sending chills down your spine “I missed you”

You turn around and are very pleased to see a handsome face and a warm exposed chest your boyfriend smiling at you.

“Mhm, missed you too” You wrap your arms around him and rest your head against his chest, happy to hear his heartbeat. Taehyung places his head atop of yours and gently strokes your hair. You tighten your grasp around him and hum.

Few seconds later, he lifts your chin up and gently lays a kiss on your lips.

“How are you doing?” He asks, his right hand cupping your cheek. The warmth of it is comforting.

“Exhausted, but you know how it goes” You shrug and he smiles

“Not too tired for dinner ? I could cook something if you want”

“Mhm... let me just go shower and put something else on” You sadly let go of him

“Sure, go ahead” he whispers and you give him a kiss before regretfully tearing yourself away from him.

You walk up the stairs to your bedroom, where you find the bed undone. You smile, Taehyung never really liked making the bed and, very honestly, neither did you. You slump onto the mattress and bury your face into the pillows, inhaling his scent. Lavender. Relaxing. Just like he is.

After a warm shower, you find a t-shirt Taehyung left on a chair in the room and wear it. It’s big enough to reach your thighs and, if you were more energised, you’d probably stay like this. You grab large pants and put them on.

Once again, you smell lavender all around you.

When you’re back in the living area, you see Taehyung busying himself in the kitchen. He hears your steps and his eyes find yours as a smile appears on his face when he notices that you’re wearing his shirt

“My shirt looks better on you than it’d ever do on me” He teases, his gaze longing on your frame.

“maybe I should keep it then” you smile and ask ; ”Do you need any help?”

“no no no no no, you’ve worked enough already. Go and have some rest. I'll call you when everything’s ready okay?”

Too tired to argue on this anyways -and thankful for the given rest-, you go lay down on the couch, your body oriented to let you look at Taehyung.

As he hums and moves to the chill music that was playing in the background, you start to detail his beautiful figure. From the curl of his dark hair (which you knoW are so so soft to the touch) to his beautiful profile and his nose you love so much down to his broad shoulder and then his tanned abs you see from time to time when the opened shirt of his pyjama moves according to his steps.

oH! Let’s not forget his perfect hands gripping at the pan’s handle while he cooks… vegetables? Something like that yeah.

Taehyung is giving his best into what he’s cooking. Vegetables with rice, that’s the only thing he could do quickly.

Quickly as in less than half an hour, unlike his friend Namjoon who’d take this time just to cook the rice.

The music he put earlier is slowly starting to bore him. After washing his hands, he reaches out for his phone and plays a different playlist. It’s one you name yourself when the two of you were still friends (aka not dating yet). “Taetae fm” because you once joked he should have his own broadcasting channel on the radio. He’d always criticise the music playing so why not have his own channel 👀

“You know Y/n, I actually watched the fashion show live this afternoon. I mean, of course you know because I always do that haha. Anyways, you really were the highlight of the runway tonight. And I’m not saying this in a biased point of view. Okay I might be a bit biased as your boyfriend but I swear that it’s true!! You literally shone back there, especially in that gold dress you were wearing and even the audience was impressed by your looks maybe you didn’t see it on stage but some cameras filmed their reactions and everyone was looking at you. Really, you were so gorge-oh” Taehyung looks at you and smile fondly “Of course you’re asleep, baby”

He lets his phone aside and checks the now cooked food before making his way to the couch. There’s a blanket on the sofa, he covers you with it, scared you might get cold. Taehyung put a loose strand of hair behind your ear and places a kiss on your chin.

You slowly open your eyes and find yourself face to face with him. You both smile.

“Hi there beautiful” He whispers

“what time is it? Did I sleep until the morning?” You’re scared of having slept through the entire nap without realising

“almost 1:20am, I just finished cooking. I thought you might be cold so I went to cover you with the blanket. You should go enjoy the food while it’s still hot, imma go to the toilet”

You nod as an answer and watch him leave upstairs. Getting up from the warmth of the couch is the hardest part so you keep the soft blanket draped around your shoulders and walk towards the kitchen. You grab two bowls and two pairs of chopsticks that you place on the counter along with glasses and a bottle of water.

You then go take care of the rice and the vegetables, which you mix in the pan. The song playing changes and your favourite nighttime tune starts.

“I don’t want a friend, I want my life in two” you sing along

“Waiting to get there, waiting for you” Taehyung’s voice startles you as he grabs your wrists and pulls your back close to him. You smile as he makes the both of you dance slowly. You put his arms around you so it’s like he’s hugging you from the back. You swing around for a little while, enjoying the close proximity as you both softly hum the song, making your body vibrate against each other, moving in perfect coordination.

“I love you” he whispers in your ear and then kisses it, sending chills down your spine, before lifting one of your arm up to make you turn so that you’re now facing him “did my baby sleep well?” You nod as you place your arms around his waist, paying attention to go under the shirt so you’re touching as much skin as possible.

Taehyung chuckles before asking you in that same, chill-sending, low deep voice ; “Still hungry? Because I’m starving”

If you didn’t just wake up, you would’ve definitely caught that lust in his eyes and also the fact that this wasn’t as innocent as it seemed.

As an answer, your stomach growls pretty loudly, making Taehyung laugh . “I’ll take that as a yes. Sit down, princess. Let me take care of you”

You do as he says, jumping on a stool, detailing all of his moves. You only realise how hungry you actually were when you start eating. Rice with vegetables has never tastes better. You eat everything in less than 5 minutes when you’d usually take your time to finish your plate.

“Damn, that was a well needed dinner! Thank you Tae” you mess a bit with his soft locks

“Imagine me who was waiting for you all evening!! I was hungry too” He pouts.

“Oh come on, I was working today. Cardio in heels isn’t the best way to wake up, let alone spend the whole day standing in tight clothes. When I think you has a day off… pfff. I saw the bed, I’m sure you stayed there all day, you lazyyyyyyyyy ass.”

He mumbles some gibberish and you giggle, knowing that you're right. He looks away, crossing his arms and obviously sulking. You leave your stool and stand behind him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You leave a few kisses on his cheek and neck

“- Don’t be such a babyy. You know I love you.

- You do?

- of course, you dummy” you bop his nose "Sooo, what do we have for desert?

- You. Uh I mean!! Yoghurt, fruits, cakes, fruits…anything” he clears his throat

“Great! What do you prefer?” You open the fridge

“ I’d very happily eat you out honestly but an apple sounds good”

“Oh sur- wait whaT!?” You snap your head to him, eyes wide open

what did he sayyyyyyyy?????

whaT am I even supposed to say noW oh my goddddd

You close the fridge’s door, suddenly not so yogurt-hungry.

There’s a sudden silence between the two of you, only disturbed by the music still playing in the background.

“Mhm? What is it?” He turns around to face you, asking so innocently “did I say something wrong ?”

This man knows what he is doing for sure. Has he ever been that straightforward before ?

Taehyung stands and closes the distance between your bodies, now towering over you.

He lowers himself slightly to speak in your ear “what is it baby? Mhm?” You feel his smile on your cheek when he lays a kiss on it “what happened to my all proud and fierce y/n who was so confident telling me I was being lazy all day, huh? Tell me” He lays another kiss on your temple

OkaY

now he’s being a tease

Great

1 A.M. fluffy and bare chested teaser Taehyung

gReAT

Anyhow, it’s a good turn on.

Really.good.freaking.turn.on

Being tired and turned on was definitely not a good mix for you. You could feel the heat rising in your body and hear your heart pounding in your ears.

“Tae…”

He laughs gently seeing you silently begging for more, brushing your face with his lips, teasing another kiss.

“Tsk tsk, you gotta speak darling, I cannot guess”

You should calm down and go to sleep, it’s 1am and you have work tomorrow you should definitely-

“Fuck-“ You sigh and grab his face, sealing your lips together while closing your eyes.

It doesn’t take long for that kiss to turn into a heated make out session.

You grab and pull some of his dark curls while his hands travels under his your shirt.

You break the kiss just a second to catch your breath.

“Have i ever told you you have the perfect body?” Taehyung asks

“Did I ever tell you how perfect you are??” You reply

He laughs, deep raspy laugh.

You’re too tired for this

And because you’re tired, you’re even more horny :D

Taehyung puts his hands behind your thighs and you jump, locking your legs around his waist, hands still in his hair, lips against his while carries you to the bedroom.

He leaves your lips to travel down your jaw and then collarbone. You throw your head back.

Taehyung gently lays you on the mattress of your king sized bed and makes it his personal mission to pleasure you tonight.

[praisehoes-and-runovervirgins]

Chapter 3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

---

You hold the last box of your belongings close to your chest and take a deep breath nervously pressing the button to your new home. Wow, that sounds weird. Sharing a home with the Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight. Your chest tightens. “God, I better not fuck this up” you mumble to yourself as the pent house suite door opens. Noah stands in clear view of the door as it opens. You walk into the apartment. “Y/N'' he yells at the top of his voice. “Where were you? I didn’t see you. I was worried, '' he said all in one breath. He wraps his arms around your leg and takes a deep inhale.

You look at him confused and put the box down. You have to tear him off you so you can kneel down to give him your daily bear hug. As you do, you notice his teary puffy eyes. You look at him puzzled then suddenly, almost like something in you woke up you panic, “Are you okay baby?” you grab him by the arm and turn him around manically looking for a source of pain. He doesn’t answer. You grab his leg and pull his PJ's up to continue looking for some sort of bruise, anything physical that would explain him crying. “He was crying cause he didn’t see you” a voice said walking past you and Noah. You look up at Liam grabbing a piece of fruit from the counter. His face looked disinterested. “He woke up and he didn't see you, he thought you left,” he said, rubbing the apple on his shirt. You lock eyes for a moment as you try to read into his expression. Fuck, he’s just like his dad, so hard to make out what he’s thinking. The sniffles coming from Noah make you break your eye contact. You look at him with wide eyes. “It’s okay Y/N. I’m okay. Please don’t cry. I just thought..” he jumps on you again, this time throwing you both onto the floor. “I’m not leaving Noah” you say, squeezing him tight. You didn’t even notice when your eyes were wet before Noah pushed back on you. He wipes the tears out your eyes. You smile at him softly. A few moments with Noah went on about how he’s so excited about your room and how it’s really close to theirs. Where’s Bakugou? You look around distracted as Noah goes on. “He’s upstairs” Liam says walking towards you with a napkin. He hands it to you and turns on his heel as he takes another bite of his apple. You sit there stunned, holding the soft piece of tissue in your hand. “Did you hear what I said?” Liam says, grabbing your face with both hands and then smashing his face into your neck. “Let’s go find your dad, yeah?” you say as you start to pick Noah up.

Bakugou is on the floor, legs crossed as he’s holding a piece of your unmade bed frame. He has his phone pressed against his ear and shoulder. “I already told you I don’t want to go on another date with her” he growled into the phone. “Well, that’s not my problem. I don’t care what the public thinks about us.” he says a little louder. “Daddy!” Noah says running, throwing himself on his back. “Hey buddy” Bakugou says, ending the call in one swipe of his finger and tossing it on his lap. “What were you talking about?” he says, gripping Bakugou's neck a bit too hard. “You're trying to kill me buddy” Bakugou says, letting out a quick laugh as he releases Noah's hands off his neck. They sit there laughing for a little. I love seeing them like this. It’s so different from how the rest of the world sees him. Bakugou looks at you leaning on the door and cracks a smirk. “Are you gonna come into your new room or what?” he says, turning around to face Noah again. You feel like the wind was knocked out of you when he looks at you even for a second. I’m going to have to live with this man. You got this y/n? You steady yourself and walk over to them. You kneel down on the floor next to Bakugou, “Do you need help? I am pretty helpful with these types of things” you say taking the piece of wood off the floor. “For starters, this was supposed to go in that thing” you say giggling. “Ah fuck” he says rolling his eyes. “HEY, WATCH YOUR MOUTH” Noah scolds him. You all break out in laughter. You spend the rest of the morning setting up your new bed set. You told bakugou that you could just use the one you had in your old apartment but he insisted on getting you a new one. You can appreciate all the things he does for you, since you’ve almost moved in he’s gotten you the best of the best; everything from fancy towels to new hair products for your hair type.

“We’re off to the park” Noah screams at the top of his lungs towards your bedroom at Bakugou. He wouldn’t be louder if he tried. But then again, look who’s his dad. He usually doesn’t raise his voice around me but when he does, oh boy is that grown man loud. The walk to the near park was one of the best, Liam actually was talking to you about his classmates and how one of them has been giving him problems. You try to come up with a plan of how to deal with it. “If I tell dad, he’s going to make a big deal about it. I already get enough attention as it is.” he explains when you asked why you haven’t told Bakugou. “Well, I’m happy to hear you out. I’m not as hot headed as your dad” you laugh. He cracks a smile as you put an arm around him as you’re walking. After a few moments Noah bust between you both and yells, “are you guys done talking? I want a hug too” he says scrunching up his nose. You hug both of them. Noah pulls you close, puts his hand on the side of his mouth and whispers, “without him please”. This child is going to be the death of me. You pick him up and swing him into your arms. “You’ll have to let me go, we’re here guys” you say as you put him down. They both run off in different directions. You sit there on a bench taking in the warm sun. I can honestly do this everyday. This feels like.. You’re stopped mid thought when your phone starts to vibrate. Oh, the alarm I set for earlier. Well might as well check social media. I haven’t had much time since moving. The first thing you look at is twitter, you follow a few of your friends and some popular celebs.

“Did you hear about Dynamite and his new girlfriend?” you overhear two women say as they walk past you and take a seat on the next bench. What? “Oh my god. They look so good together. I would die to trade places with her”. You sit still for a moment trying to gather your emotions. Who is she? Why didn’t he tell me he was dating someone? I thought. I-I don’t.. You grab your phone quickly, opening it and going to twitter again. You search up, “Dynamite and” and there it is. You stare at your phone for a bit. There she is, a beautiful tall slender blonde woman arm in arm with Bakugou. You sigh in disbelief pushing your back into the bench. Why does this hurt so much? Fuck. Why do I even fucking care? He’s not even.. “Hey, are you okay?” says a deep voice. You turn your head, noticing the very handsome man next to you. “Yeah” you say, taking another breath. “You don’t sound okay” he says looking deep in your eyes. His hair is black as night and his eyes are deep purple, you can honestly get lost trying to figure out how many different shades there are in them. “Yeah, I just got some news.. I wasn’t expecting it” you say shifting your eyes down and moving some hair out of your face. “I bet. Boyfriend?” He says as he watches your face carefully for a reaction. You let out a slight giggle before letting out a breath and bite your lip, “no”. The man and you sit in silence for a minute. Fucking hell. Why do I feel like shit right now? This hot guy is next to me and all I could think about is you wrapped around another woman. Fuck this.. You lay your eyes on the man again. He’s about Bakugou’s age with a very muscular build, he has a couple white stands in his hair, he’s beautiful. “Which one is yours?” you scooch over towards him. “The little one over there” he points at the kid playing with Noah. He stretches his arm to rub the back of his head, you can clearly see him clearly stretching his muscles. You almost laugh out loud. Trying a little too hard buddy. You both make conversation for a while. It doesn’t take long before He’s asking you on a date, you accept of course. Maybe seeing someone else for a couple hours will help me get over this.. whatever this feeling is. After a few more minutes Noah comes over to you all sweaty trying to hug you. “Let's go home” you say with a smile. I feel like shit but I can’t even show it. This kid can read me like a fucking book. Okay, put on a smile y/n.

A few days have passed since you saw the pictures of Bakugou and his “girlfriend’. When you came home that day, you couldn’t even look at him. Why the fuck am I acting like he betrayed me or something. I’m just the nanny. Get a fucking grip y/n. Still, you tried to avoid him as much as possible. When he walked into the room, you would walk out, you ate dinner in your room unless Noah asked you to stay with him and you tried everything in your power not to look at him in his eyes. You were butt fucking hurt to say the least. After a few days you get the courage to talk to him. You take a deep breath before knocking on his office door. “Come in,” he says lazily. He’s sitting in his chair facing his computer typing away. He stops and cocks his head over his shoulder to look at you. You can do this. You need to do this. “Do you need anything?” he says, turning his head back at the computer with his hands still on the keyboard. “I-I I won’t be home Friday night. I don’t know what time I’ll be back” you say almost in a whisper. “Oh” you’ve caught his attention now. He turns off the monitor and swirls in his chair to face you. Fuck fuck fuck fuck “I checked your schedule and I saw you work till about 3. That gives me time to..” you say waving your hand around like a child explaining something. “Yeah, that’s fine” he says, eyeing you up and down. You look nervous, like you have something you’re hiding. “Cool” you say, taking a deep breath as you turn on your heel about to make a run for it. “A date?” he says in a low deep almost bitter tone. I was so close. I WAS SO FUCKING CLOSEEEE “Yeah.” you say turning back around to face his him. “With that guy in the park?” He says looking you up and down almost like he’s looking for a reaction. “Yeah, How did you..” you look at him confused. “When you guys came home Noah told me that you were upset about something while you were in the park and this guy started talking to you,” he said, crossing his arms. Why do I feel like I’m getting fucking scolded. “Yeah, I was pretty upset about something" you look away from him. How can I say: Hey, I was upset that you're dating a blonde supermodel because… well, I don’t know. Also, please sign my check sir without sounding like a total psycho. You quickly snap out of that thought as he stands up and slowly walks over to you. You’re still staring at the floor as he stands in front of you. “Is that why you haven’t said a word to me for days?” he says in a low tone, still arms crossed but this time biting his top lip looking for your eyes. You slowly look up at him. He’s so big and muscular next to you. He’s also wearing your favorite outfit. Those sweats and tank top combo will be the death of me. Your eyes finally meet his. In this moment you’re lost in his eyes, the intensity that’s usually there isn’t. You can’t quite put a finger on what he’s thinking or this unknown expression plastered on his face. It feels foreign but nevertheless it knocks the wind out of you. You feel your heart rate increase. “No” you say after some time staring into his eyes. I don’t believe her. “Okay” he says with a sigh. “Okay” you say back to him looking away. Tears start to form in your eyes as you walk away from the office. You take a moment to catch your breath in the hallway and turn back towards his office. Your body almost moves on it’s own. Maybe I should cancel. I don’t even- I don’t want anyone- Before you can knock on his door again you get a twitter alert. “Bakugou and girlfriend were spotted kissing in the park two days ago” it read. The pictures in the tweet were bad, you can barely even tell if they were kissing or not but It still made your chest ache. Bakugou opened the door to see you squinting at your phone trying to zoom into the picture. “Change your mind?” he said leaning on the door frame. You jump up and step back, you didn't notice how close you guys were. “No.” you say looking him dead in the eye. “Why would I? I am so excited” you say with a broken smile.

Bakugou and you don’t speak for the rest of the day. You are both noticeable in a bad mood.. “What’s wrong with daddy?” Noah says to Liam as Bakugou stomps around the house while you’re hiding in your room. “He’s jealous,” Liam says looking at Noah. “I have a plan, wanna help?” he says, smiling at Noah. Noah gives him the same devilish smile back.

Taglist: @lil-miminini @bqkuho3 @xoxo-teddybear @candybabey @butterflyhallucations @sizzlingdonutturtlemuffin @hay-leeeah @speedmetalqueen @yourfavoriteblackfemweeb @bakucumsackslut @shipchild @nanamithecute

I'm so sorry it took so long but If anyone else wants to me on the tag list for the next one lmk :)