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fictionalmenmistress · 4 years

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🌸🍡Taehyung with a chubby darling🍡🌸

In which our best boy reacts to having a bashful girlfriend who happens to be volumptous and curvy... and chubby and soft... and he finds it to be SO SEXY she has no ideaaaa! *Y/N insert story!*

Some NSFW but mostly SFW, some angsty self image views, but soft and fluffy praises. Not requested, but I felt like doing it for a little self-gratification since he'd likely be exactly like this... enjoy lovelies~ 😚

All of my work is labelled under the hashtag #fictionalmenmistress, in the tags 🌸🍡🌸

"Hey baby~" Taehyung devilishly smirks, tucking his head into your shoulder.

"AHH!" You shriek, as your boyfriend squeezes you from behind. You pull out your earbuds and pause your music, spinning around to face him before you. "You SCARED me, Taehyung!"

Taehyung softly chuckled, taking you into his arms. "Awwww my baby... I'm sorry." He cooed, not taking your scolding seriously.

You pull your face away from his gentle hands, as he leaned closer to cup your cheeks... but pouts when he's denied.

"What if a sasaeng broke in and grabbed me or something? Its scary enough to be in such a big house all by myself, you know I'm always looking over my shoulder... because I'm scared of ghosts, and stuff going 'bump' in the night."

"But not us going 'bump' in the night, right?" He mischeviously smirks, taking your hand into his, examining your face with half-closed, lulled eyes.

"Taehyungieeee-" you whine, playfully scolding him to pay attention, as a blush surfaces over your whole face. "You know I scare easily."

"I do too, precious." He quietly assures, before groaning. "OKAYYYY, I won't suprise you off guard anymore... no matter how cute or amusing your reaction may be-" he murmured in submission, letting out a long sigh. "Can't I just... hold you now?"

You blush, as he guides your hand to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss against the back of your hand. "I missed you all day... you're usually with me at the studio, or waiting with those yummy muffins after dance practice."

You giggle. "You mean the ones I lie to PD-nim about? Saying they're faux muffins, that are really veggie-based, to enhance protein and carb burning?" You ask, lifting your eyebrows in an amused way.

"Yeah, those ones..." Taehyung sighs with a pout. "All the guys love them... even Mister Bang now."

"He does, doesn't he?" You grimace, remembering the tray you made their boss recently, per-request. "I feel bad about lying, now that he thinks they're okay to eat all the time..."

"NOOO we can't lose our muffins!!" Taehyung playfully whines, clinging onto your arm. "He'll make us diet if he knowssss!"

"It sounds like you miss my muffins more than me." You smirk.

Taehyung scoffs, shaking his head, before planting several, slow kisses, up your arm.

"No, there's nothing I wouldn't give to have you by my side. Every day... muffins or no muffins." He giggles, towering over you and gazing into your eyes. "I missed you today."

"I missed you too, Tiger. I had been needing to do some artwork for my webtoon panels." You smile, booping his nose. "I'm trying to build an audience for my own work!"

Taehyung gently groans, pulling you in close by your waist. "You know... I can reccomend it to army on weverse or twitter. You've always been the best story teller I know... so its not like I'd be making up any praises about how amazing it is..."

You run your fingers through his soft hair, as he nuzzles into your neck. You can feel his breath slowing, huffing against your skin to breathe you in. He sends a shiver down your spine, slowly squeezing his hands over your hips, almost like... he's kneeding dough.

"Tae... y-you know I want to make something for myself..." you blush, as his hands sensually explore their way up your back. "I want to have self-made sucsess, doing what I love. It means a lot to me, to say that I did it, without anyone's help."

"Mmmm... my pretty little buisness CEO... I love it when you're ambitious and driven."

You scoff, wriggling in his hold. "Oh please, Tae... I'm not little, c'mon." You blush, this time out of embarrasement.

He can feel your body grow stiffened in his arms.

"Why can't I just praise you?" He whispers, almost saddened that you won't accept the admiration.

He leans back and stares into your eyes, with a small childish pout of dissapointment on his lips. His eyes are big and glossy as they penetrate your soul... like that of a puppy.

Its so wonderfully strange how he can look so intimidating and sexy sometimes... then all of a sudden so soft and baby-ish.

And right when he had you where he wanted you, softening your attention to be on him and distracted... of COURSE he would try to snag a move on you again. There went his large, manly hands... gently gripping and easing into a subtle squeeze on your waist skin... before sliding so slowly and delicately down to your bubbly buttcheeks.

Ah those thick buns and 'thicc' thighs. You love them then you hate them... they jiggle when you move, they always have. And... they have those small dimples in them. You always felt hesitant to let your boyfriend touch the soft spots, worried he may be turned off by the texture of your squishy skin, or how your body isn't tight like his own body. And yet... his gaze and hands always wandered there most... he was so needy for those areas, always trying to weasel his way into exploring them.

You were pretty confident about your big breasts, however. Those didn't make you feel like 'too much' for him. Well... besides the faded stretchmarks from them growing so quickly during middle school. Puberty... it just kinda hit you like a truck. You went from looking like a scrawny child to looking like a shapely woman with a baby doll face.

Parents would get mad at you trick or treating, assuming you were a college student dressing up and requesting candy. And those pervy older men were always such a pesty, creepy problem. All this to say, you became very aware of your body, very fast. Your other classmates were still skinny and shapeless, with more boxy frames than curvy frames, and none of the boys in your class ever seemed to be attracted to you, over the girls like them.

As Taehyung has said once before though... a young boy wants to knaw on bones, while a grown man hungers for the meat.

"Did you just compare me to meat?" You asked him after the fact.

"No! No... that's not what I..." He giggled, shaking his head. "Its just an old saying, that I only really understood when I grew up. Basically, women with shape are the sexiest to men... but teenage boys are attracted to a more child-like, thinner look." he quietly said.

His words echoed through your head, before you attention re-gathered in the moment happening now.

"You're little to me..." he innocently cooed.

Yes, I suppose height-wise you were shorter than your tall boyfriend. But you always wondered if you looked too... big... standing next to him. He was so lean... with practically no fat on his firm, toned body. But you were soft all over. And seeing Taehyung at award shows... surrounded by all of those dainty, tiny girlgroup idols... they looked like they could fit in his hands. But you... you felt so big sometimes, with your foreign genetics.

Taehyung never seemed to care, and he never said anything but praises, but you still wondered in the back of your mind. Did he think you were too much for him?

Taehyung liked a challenge. The more you shyed away, the more he pressed into you, cradling you in his grasp. (He knew the difference between you being shy versus being non-consenting, and NEVER went against your limits or desires. He read people quite well, especially you...)

"Taehyung..." you gulped, feeling your lips trembling to get the words out. "D-do you think I'm... f-fat?" You stammer. The look on his face is almost appalled, angered. Who would make you have such a false impression?

"What?" He repeated. "Fat? Absolutely NOT." He corrected, tilting up his chin confidently.

"B-but... according to Korean standards..." you muttered, beginning to ramble now that pandora's box had been opened. "I'm-"

"Don't say it." He coldly ordered. "Korean beauty standards are unrealistic and drive even the skinniest and prettiest of Korean women to get surgeries that promise an 'ideal image'. But, everyone is perfect exactly as they are. I know you know that, and you know I know that too. So, screw what advertising comanies call the 'ideal image' in my country or yours. Ideal image, my ass."

"Taehyung!" You gasp, suprised that he swore. Your boyfriend wasn't one to swear... it was a rare quality about him.

The way he worded it made you chuckle at a realization.

"Well, your butt is indeed the ideal image..." you murmured, making Taehyung smirk to see you amused and feeling a little better.

"I'm glad you think so, Jagiya~" he cooed, guiding you to the couch without his arms leaving your waist. You trusted him wholly, to guide you backwards, or anywhere.

Taehyung suddenly slipped his arm under one of your knees, making you yelp as he pulled your thigh up against the side of his body. He confidently smiles all the while, his intimate gaze never leaving your eyes. You feel his hand squeeze the thigh, and you could tell he was doing it less for support to lift you onto the couch, and moreso to feel your volumptuous form in his grasp. Ohhh he loved your thighs... your soft, lovely thighs...

He slowly leaned into you, guiding you to recline back onto the expensive, large, comfy couch.

You giggled, as he leaned all of his body onto you, squishing you playfully under him.

"Taehyung!" You laughed. "You're squishing me!"

"I want all of my body to be against your perfect body." He sweetly grinned. "There's not an inch of me that doesn't belong to you."

"Well, you're suprisingly heavy..." you playfully pout, succumbing to the comortable pressure his body was pressing into you. It was arousing, actually...

"And you're suprisingly light." He gently remarked, flipping you both so you were on top of him. You knew he didn't mean that in a bad way.

"Or you're just strong..." you sighed.

"Maybe I'm strong... but your body is perfect to me. The way you FEEL..." he began, greedily squeezing his palms over the softest parts of your thighs. "The way you LOOK..." he hungrily growled, almost an octive deeper... sending a shiver through your core as he drank in the image before him. His eyes widened as they scanned over your bouncing large breasts in his view, as he watched you sit up, straddling him as he lied there. The smile on his face was pleasured, pleased. He was a happy man to have you on top of him, no matter how light or heavy you were... he WANTED you to press your lovely form into him. "The way you walk... so bouncy and sexy... I feel jealous about how the hyungs check you out when your back is turned." His voice turned devilishly lower... deeper... as if wrathful for revenge. "Its a crime that any man gets to see your godess-like form standing before them, besided me."

"Th-they do that?" You blush, not realizing the rest of the boys saw you in that way.

"Mhmm... all of them do. Its soooo not fairrr..." he grumbled under his breath, almost purring as he took in the sight of your squishy tummy against his chest, and your juicy thighs around him. "Kitten~" he desperately sighed. "I get so HARD, just IMAGINING how you look IN clothes that cover you completely... let alone the f-fantasies of you naked~" he humms, with a hitch in his breathy whispers.

"Hh-huhh..." he sighs, his breath hitching again, as his eyes lazily roll into the back of his head, before re-drifting back down onto you. Just the remembrance gets him THAT hot and bothered??

"For realsies?" You coyly, bashfully ask.

"Of course, kitten. Would I lie to you?" He asks, raising his eyebrows with a confident smirk.

"Maybe... if it would make me feel better..." you dissapointedly assume.

He sits up, supporting himself on one of his arms, making his chest press against your breasts through your shirt. You were face to face now... just staring into one another's eyes.

"NEVER." He assured. "I would never lie to you. There's no reason for me to lie to make you feel better, Jagi. You're literally a goddess."

You feel your cheeks flume red. "G-goddess?"

"Yes! Renaissance masters didn't sculpt ideal greek godess statues with soft curves for nothing..." he grumbled, blushing at the sight of your innocent face.

"Ohh Taehyungie..." you dreamily sighed, leaning fully against his chest as he slowly lowered you both down, to lie against one another horizontally.

"The way our bodies are so different... the way yours is so soft comared to how hard and stiff mine is... its perfect." He gently cooed. "I'm surpised that you're so comfy in my arms."

"Oh Tae, you're my safe place. I love how you feel... I love how you hold me." You intimately whispered.

He stared deeply into your eyes, as a gentle smile rested on his admiring, sculpted, handsome face.

"Didn't you find me during our Love Yourself era?" He asked, cocking a brow.

"Mhmm." You responded, rapidly nodding your head up and down in such a soft, innocent way.

Taehyung giggled, endeared at your cuteness. "Okay then. I want you to love yourself... because I love you. All of you."

He gently lifted your loose shirt up enough to grab onto your waist, running his hands slowly down the sides of you, to squeeze your soft tummy in his hands, his eyes practically glistening with desire.

"Ever inch of you... every hair, every patch of skin, every tint and shade, every texture. You belong to me, and you're the sexiest being in existance. And all of me belongs to you, only you, forever. Alright?" He romantically assured, gazing hopelessly into your eyes.

The soft smile that pulled into his lips, let you know the fullest sincerity of his tone. "Okay." You smile, leaning into his lips to kiss him.

Slowly, passionately you kissed, deepening the intimate act with every second. Soon enough, your hands were running all over one another, tilting your heads to reach your tongues into the deepest parts of your mouth. Body to body... you both were perfect, together and apart, exactly as you are... he loved you.

🌸 the end 🌸 (for more, visit my hashtag: #fictionalmenmistress in the tags 🥰 requests and headcannons are also open!)

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argylemikewheeler · 3 years

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July 1st, 1985

what the first ep of (my) s3 would look like if the main concept was: both Steve and Will are gay in 1985’s Summer of Love and the town’s enemy is a little more human; loving friendships, very confused adults, and Will Byers Actually Getting Help

“Harrington!”

“Yes, sir.” Steve looked up from his desk. He dropped his crossword and looked to be at attention; the police station’s phone wasn’t ringing, though, so there wasn’t really anything he should have been doing. Hopper stepped out of his office, angling himself toward the door rather than Steve’s desk island.

“Do you think you’ll be able to-- Harrington, what are you doing?” Hopper caught sight of the pocket thesaurus sitting on his desk (the last name written on the inside cover not belonging to Steve, of course). Hopper fixed his sunglasses on the edge of his nose, looking over them and down at Steve.

“I’m just, uh, working on my vocabulary.” Steve said. Hopper blinked twice, waiting. Steve wasn’t going to say the truth: he was dating-- well seeing someone-- way smarter than him. This wasn’t for joy or boredom. He was studying to impress. “It’s college prep, sir.”

“The crossword?” The chief evened his stare. “This your old man’s suggestion?” Of all the things Steve’s father was telling him to do with himself, he wished some of it was simply pecking at a crossword over a twelve hour shift. Fucking off and being a better piece of shit son just wasn’t feasible to accomplish in one summer.

“He swears by it.”

“Okay, well. Uh, moving on from that,” Hopper grabbed his hat from the coat rack. The topic of Steve’s father always made Hopper stiffen up; it was definitely the main reason Hopper gave Steve his job at the station, but it still created more questions. Steve knew Hopper and his father went to high school together, but he never asked his father about those years-- beyond his baseball glory stories. “I’ve got plans tonight and I need to head out early. Can you handle things on your own for a while. At least until the night shift comes in?”

“I’ll be fine.” Steve made sure not to acknowledge the crossword on his desk as he nodded. He was really good at his job, he was. He was also just, unfortunately, still a pretty shitty boyfriend and needed all the vocab help he could get. “What’s the pressing story?”

“I have dinner.” Hopper was already trying to walk out the door. “So don’t call me. For the love of God.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Chief. I--” Steve was sure it was the cool July wind that slammed the door on the last half of his sentence. Not Hopper. “won’t... Have a good time, I guess.”

The police station was empty: it was another boring and wonderfully quiet Monday in Hawkins. There’d been some calls to break up disturbances at city hall in the past few days, but somehow everyone just seemed to agree that Mondays-- the longest shift of Steve's whole week-- was the day everyone went about their quietest day.

There were a few officers milling in and out of the back lounge and front door, casting a quick glance to Steve as he muttered and threatened fourteen down and six across. Nancy had been helping close the gaps of his post-high school education-- without knowing just what for-- but had been picking up most hours at the Post to try and elbow her way into their good graces; it put his tutoring on hold. So here he was, groaning at some clues about classical artists he’d never heard of.

There were other reasons Steve was sure the other officers thought he was odd-- things he was sure his father had passed along in spitting rants-- but Steve didn’t mind. No one said anything to his face.

“Hey Flo! Is, uh, is Steve here?” The question was asked with the answer already in mind.

Steve sat up in his chair, twisting around to see down the hall to the back entrance to the station. There weren’t many parking spots to fill, but he knew a certain someone who preferred it to street parking.

“Jonathan?”

“Oh, I hear him. Thanks-- hey!” Jonathan hurried out from the hall, his camera bumping against his stomach and bag slapping against his leg in the same rhythm. He’d gotten a new haircut recently: semi-wonky bangs and a closer cut in the back. All thanks to Steve’s peer pressure and Mrs. Byers’s kitchen shears.

“What are you doing here?”

“Sorry to stop by your work like this--” he lowered his voice as he stopped at the corner of Steve’s desk. “I know we said we wouldn’t do that, but we got an extra muffin in the lunch order and I know you’re always starving after a Monday shift so.” Jonathan produced a folded brown paper bag from his satchel. “Here.”

“Oh, thanks.” Steve wanted to say so much more, but had to settle. No more. None of what they’d decided they wouldn’t say. Not until the summer had ended. They wanted to see if they lasted longer than the convenience of loose summer schedules.

“Won’t I see you, uh, later, though?” At eight, when Steve got sent home he always drove straight to Jonathan’s. Jonathan started late on Tuesdays and Steve had off; they had the time to waste. “Or is this your way of telling me to stay home?”

“No! No we’re still... hanging out.” Jonathan had gotten really good at cooking and treated Steve to weekly dinner. It was a nice gesture at first, but Steve started growing fond of the company. They both did around mid-June. “But, I think Mike’s going to be over so. Be cool , alright? Keep it cool.”

“Cool, got it.” Steve leaned back in his chair. He moved his papers to leave a corner of his desk for Jonathan to sit on. No one was in the main office; it was a harmless invitation.

“I have to get going...” It sounded like an excuse, a dive for safety. “And I’m sure you have, um, puzzles to do?” Jonathan pretended not to be endeared. He tried, he really did. He failed , but Steve pretended he didn’t notice.

“Don’t want to sit and help me figure out the title of Mozart’s last opera?” He patted the desk, daring to be more direct.

“I really have to go.” Jonathan was genuine, looking at his watch. “The Post only let me out early today because I have to go pick up Will from his doctor’s appointment.”

“Wait.” Steve put the cap back on his pen. “Isn’t Will’s therapy on Wednesday?”

“Yeah, but with Mom’s schedule and the store being all weird-- we had to move it to today. And you know we typically have a family night after-- so he feels okay, you know-- but we can’t . So, that’s why Mike’s coming over. Hopefully they’ll be idiots and tire Will out and he’ll sleep okay.” Tension rose in Jonathan’s voice quickly, explaining his day as if going over a laundry list; never rehearsing it but having it memorized.

“I can stay home if you need time, Jonathan.”

“No, really. I want you to come over.” Jonathan sighed and placed his hand on the emptied spot on Steve’s desk. “Besides, you can’t break tradition after a little over one month , then it was just a weird habit.”

Steve Harrington did not consider his summer fling a w eird habit . If anything, it was the most sensical thing he’d done in a very long time. Even after getting rejected from all his colleges, and never hearing the end of his father’s lectures, 1985 had been very kind to him. And that was mostly due to Jonathan’s inherent nature to be the same.

“I’ll see you after eight.” Steve smiled and reached for his hand-- but averted to grab a piece of memo paper by the phone.

“I’m sorry to leave in a rush.” Jonathan hitched his bag up, checking his watch again. “I just, I really need to get going.”

“Don’t worry. The muffin is more than enough.” Steve said. “And seeing you wasn’t too bad either.”

“Slow day, huh?” Jonathan said. The corner of his mouth quirked with a flattered, embarrassed smile. Steve tried to act nonchalant, like he wasn’t so goddamn relieved to see a familiar and happy face. Especially his familiar and happy face. “Well, good thing I have another surprise for you.”

“You can barely fit your camera in that bag, what could you possibly-- hey!” Steve missed grabbing Jonathan’s arm as he walked away, heading for the front door. “Where are you going?” Jonathan kept walking, checking his watch the whole way. “Hello?”

“Delivered right on time.” Jonathan pushed the front door open to the station-- but was nearly knocked over as a green dash barreled through it.

"Steve! Steve! Steve!” The dash was suddenly grabbing him by the shoulders. “You got the job!”

“Henderson! Oh my god! You’re back!” In an unlikely impulse, Steve grabbed Dustin in a hug, taking advantage of the change of height. “Holy shit, I nearly forgot! First of the month!”

“See you, Steve.” Jonathan walked across the room to the back entrance again. His hand braced the back of Steve’s chair, brushing across his shoulders.

“O-Okay! Yeah, see you!” Steve sputtered, losing his reminded cool in an instant. “Bye.”

Dustin pulled away slowly. “What was that?” It looked like everyone was too smart for Steve.

“Nothing. He brought me a surprise lunch-- which was an obvious decoy to the main event! You! How are you, buddy? How was camp?”

“Oh, it was fantastic. Steve, I have to show you all my inventions! Camp was the best four weeks of my life .” Dustin hopped up onto the corner of his desk. His heels tapped against the empty metal drawers. He was jittery, nearly uncontainable, but still so composed-- if only to be focused all on Steve.

Steve held his hands out, letting him start. “Lay it on me, Henderson! I want to hear everything. I missed you like crazy.”

“Well, first, obviously. I have to tell you about my girlfriend--”

“Whoa! Whoa! Girlfriend ? That fast?” Steve hadn’t been expecting any of his dating advice to work. It had been coming from such a poor and confused part of himself, Steve figured it was destined to fail. Apparently, it was just Steve that was-- when flirting with women at least. “Damn, there’s something in you after all!”

“She’s super smart, Steve. I’ve never met any girl like her. She’s a genius and she’s so pretty. God, I miss her already-- and I just saw her.”

Steve looked over his shoulder. He knew the feeling. “That’s great, man. I mean, I’m super happy for you. Like, that’s crazy . That’s freaking awesome.”

“So what about you? How are the ladies? I mean, you work for the Chief now. All the ladies you could need and more, am I right?”

Steve used to be really good at this part of the lie, but with Dustin it felt cheap. He didn’t need to lie to him, but that was the deal; no matter how much that person was Steve’s best and most beloved friend, their secret was a dead-bolt, vaulted secret.

“Eh, not too great. Only girl my own age I see-- besides Nancy, really-- is the night-shift girl, Robin. But she’s not really-- we’re just friends. She’s alright. Leaves me weird drawings in the memo pad.”

“Ooo, she sounds cool.” Dustin raised his eyebrows. “Do you know her from school?”

“Yeah, we didn’t really run in the same crowds but-- it’s not like that, man. It’s really not.” Steve started unwrapping his lunch. “It’s so not like that with Robin.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m not... looking at the moment.”

Steve had originally decided to not go looking for trouble. After he and Nancy split in the beginning of his senior year, he didn’t start looking for an immediate replacement. The illusion of thinking he was in love with Nancy-- capable of being in love with Nancy-- was a hard thing to have come crumbling down. Steve needed time to get his own bearings, to put his feet firmly on the ground, and have them lifted off when his father grabbed him by the lapels and--

Steve hadn’t gone looking for trouble. Hadn’t gone looking for love either. But somehow, both seemed to find him.

Jonathan was late. He usually wasn’t but Will was trying not to be worried. It was a different day than usual and he knew how awful Jonathan’s boss and co-workers were. Will tried not to be worried-- he wasn't. It was just that he had spent an hour talking about the night his father left their family; standing outside the doctor’s office was a bit nerve-wracking. It felt too familiar, even with all the talking and note-scribbling.

Finally, Jonathan’s car pulled into the lot. He was speeding, as much as his car could speed: he knew he was late, which made Will feel a little bit better. No one had forgotten him. It was just traffic or his bosses or maybe just hitting all the red lights. As Jonathan stopped in front of the curb and waved Will in, Will could see he was jittery-- he was upset that he was late. Will felt bad for counting the minutes.

Not that he did it out of impatience or anything. Will just formed the habit after getting his new watch. It matched Mike’s. Completely on accident, of course.

“Hey, buddy! Sorry I’m late. I was-- I had to run an errand really fast. How long were you waiting.” He moved his bag and threw it onto the backseat. Will would’ve held it on his lap.

“I wasn’t keeping track.” Will said, climbing into the passenger seat. Will wanted to ask if his bag had Jonathan’s camera in it. If everything was okay. He didn’t. It seemed like Jonathan had been in his therapy with Will, just as shaken up. “It’s okay. Thanks for getting me.”

Jonathan waited until Will put on his seat belt. “Of course. We’re always here to pick you up. Therapy is important; you have to go.”

Will laughed before he could stop himself. “You sound like Mom.” Why?

“Because she’s right.” Therapy was still kind of weird to Will-- since no one else in his grade had to do it-- but he humored his family. It was helping, if he had to admit it. But it was still embarrassing sometimes.

His therapist, Dr. Bright-- Rose Marie, as she insisted on being called-- was a send-out from the Lab, but disguised within a private practice just outside of town. She was able to listen to Will talk about what he saw and felt during his time with the Mind Flayer without trying to commit him. Almost nothing was off limits. Almost nothing.

Will checked his watch again.

“Are you excited to see Mike tonight?” The question was pointed, but Will wasn’t sure why it made him nervous. “I mean, I feel like I haven’t seen him in a bit.”

“Oh, yeah. He’s always with El.”

Will was sure they weren’t dating. El was just on a year-long stint of self-discovery and, besides Max, Mike was the person she trusted the most to help make as many helpful mistakes as possible. He bought her books to read and new music to try. It was really sweet, seeing Mike take such big strides toward helping their friend. But there was also a part of Will that felt dejected: his sort of help had to be prescribed and couldn’t be replaced with a warm laugh from one Mike Wheeler.

Will was sick while his friends were growing.

“Is there something wrong?” Jonathan used to ask the question like Will was one trembling lip away from crying-- but this time, he asked it like Will had his hand on the door, seconds from jumping out. “Will, are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Will nodded. “I’m fine. Just-- I talked a lot today and I’m tired.”

“Do you want to cancel with Mike--”

“No.” Will had been looking forward to having time with Mike-- just Mike-- for a whole week. He wanted to sit on his floor with his best friend and be a kid again. Just for the night-- maybe draw some of Mike’s old campaigns or sketch out an idea for his own. He just wanted to remember something good about the past four years. After his hour with Dr. Bright, it all felt painful. Like his childhood naivety had been broken and every conversation he overheard in his house dripped with venom and disdain.

Will didn’t like picturing his house that way. It was a place that loved and raised him, a place he felt safe. He didn’t like thinking the conversations he heard being screamed through the walls were trapped in the drywall.

His arms felt heavy and his chest felt like it was made of metal-- he kept tasting it in his mouth. Will leaned back against the seat and reached for the radio. Jonathan turned it down before Will had even changed the station.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I just want to see Mike.” Will said, his mouth too honest and his mind shrouded in guilt. “I just want to see my friend.”

“Okay. Okay.” Jonathan nodded somewhat somberly. “I understand. Let’s go pick him up. He’s at his house right? Not El’s-- o-or The Sinclair’s or anything?”

“No. He’s at his.” Will crossed his arms and tried to find the loose string-- the thing that could uncoil Jonathan’s still-tightening anxiety. “Are you still dating Nancy?”

Jonathan turned to look at Will, nearly crashing the car. That was the wrong string. “What?”

“Nancy? Are you still dating her?”

“I was never dating Nancy.” Jonathan laughed, shaking his head. “I’m not dating Mike’s sister, don’t worry.” The clarification was strange and felt off-topic. Like Jonathan was trying to talk about something else.

“I thought you were. You guys hung out a lot during school.” Will heard her voice through the walls too. Always gentle, never yelling. Except when she was losing at playing cards. Then she shouted.

“She was helping me pass chemistry. That’s all.” Jonathan turned the radio up a little. Will checked his watch. “And then she helped me apply to the Post internship-- she’s great at writing papers, did you know that? A real wordsmith. Is Mike a writer too?”

He was, he really was. Grammatically, Will ran out of red pens trying to help, but creatively? Will envied Mike’s ability. “I don’t know. We don’t really talk about that kind of stuff like you two do… Since you two are dating.”

“We’re not .” Jonathan laughed. Will took advantage of an upcoming stop sign to lean forward and look at his brother’s crimson face. “We’re not, Will, okay? We’re really not. I’d tell you.”

“You’d tell me?”

“Of course! I’d tell you if I… I had a girlfriend. Which I don’t!” He stayed at the stop sign for a bit too long. “Do you?”

There was an option to play dumb, to make Jonathan ask more directly: do you have a girlfriend, Will ? but it sounded far more painful than being honest, than being as lonely as he was.

“No. I don’t.”

“And you’d tell me. If you were dating someone?” Jonathan looked at Will, hopeful but scarcely so. “You’ll tell me if anything big happens in your life?”

“Yeah.” There wouldn’t be anything happening at all that summer, that was for damn sure . “Absolutely.”

Steve had about seventy percent of his puzzle done-- fifty of which was because Dustin was an unstoppable genius with no tolerance for Steve’s careful pace. It was just about quarter past seven, and Steve’s back was getting sore from sitting in his chair all day. He only liked sitting when it was in his car, on his way to the Byers's House, careful, of course, to obey all traffic laws.

Steve was packing his crosswords and pens up in the top drawer of his desk when something clattered the back door open. Steve grabbed a pen and whipped around in his seat, as if to wield it like a weapon.

“Hello? Who’s there?”

“Hey dingus.” Luckily, Steve couldn’t even see Robin yet-- or rather, she couldn’t see him or his emphasized eye roll. She could hear him groan though. “Hey, shut up and quit whining. I’m sending you home early.”

Her head popped out from the hallway. Robin’s ponytail was high on her head, the hair flopping over and getting caught in her stringy bangs. She flung her backpack out from behind her and tossed it toward Steve. She wasn’t in her uniform yet, only wearing the buttoned up shirt-- unbuttoned and showing her torn and dyed shirt underneath. She was wearing jogging shorts, her knees torn up and covered with Band-Aids. They reminded Steve of the ones taped to his face after getting a plate smashed into his forehead. Deceivingly cheerful.

“What are you doing here early?” Steve stood and followed her, holding her backpack awkwardly in his hands. “You’re never early.” Eight on the dot. Every time.

“I figure you want to get out of here tonight.” She didn’t even stop to look at Steve as they walked into the back room. “Probably want to see your boyfriend.”

Her words weren’t sharp, but Steve still recoiled. He let his arms, and her bag, hang by his sides.

“Who? Jonathan?” The only way Jonathan and Robin had ever met was in the hallways of Hawkins High. She definitely never saw them interact at the station-- or on any of their nights together: they were always indoors. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“First off, I didn't even say a name." Shit. "Second, he came in the other day looking for you.” Robin started buttoning her shirt up, fixing the collar as she finally turned to see Steve. “He was really upset-- didn’t even know what time it was to know you weren’t working.”

“Upset?” Technically, it wasn’t Steve’s problem. It was the deal; they didn’t have to care about each other’s lives. It was just summer. It was just like any other summer.

“Yeah. Crying, sniffling, snot-- the whole nine, man.” Robin sounded extremely sympathetic despite beginning to change her pants. Steve whipped around, covering his face. “You should go see him. Make sure he’s okay. Be a good boyfriend... shithead.”

“He’s not--”

“Steve, I’m the last person you should be arguing with.” Robin laughed-- and it was only momentarily threatening. Until, of course, Steve realized what she meant.

Like all good secrets kept at Hawkins PD, Steve kept his mouth shut and nodded even if she wasn’t looking.

“Yes, sir--ma'am-- Robin.”

“So, are you going to go or what, dingus?” She tapped him on the shoulder. “Get out of here-- and tell me all about it Wednesday.”

Steve blinked at her, holding out her bag. As if it was enough thanks to give her back her own property. “Are we… friends, or something?”

“No, of course not.” She winked, slapping his arm. “Just looking out for one of my own.”

After picking Mike up from his house, they drove home in uncharacteristic chatter. Jonathan was the only one speaking, humming along to the radio. Will was exhausted beyond performative small talk; the type that had to be done between two best friends when a third party was present. Mike was great at just sitting with Will in silence, but Jonathan didn’t know that. Instead, the three of them passed around quiet jokes and laughter, answering questions about their friends for Jonathan’s upkeep of information.

Once they got in the house, Jonathan let them wander off into Will’s room as he started pulling pots out of the kitchen cabinets. He wouldn’t bother or pester them about any summer work, either. They would be left alone in their own coupled silence.

Mike was sitting cross-legged on Will’s floor, twisting one of Will's crayons between his fingers. Will needed new ones but he felt funny asking for them as a near-freshman in high school. He liked the glide of wax on paper compared to the scrape of colored pencils. Well, that and the fact he ruined half of his crayons the year prior making a full map of Hawkins in a fugue state and only had two crayons able to be used normally.

“You had doctor stuff today, right?”

Will was digging under his bed for his emptier sketch book. “Yeah. Therapy. Doctor doctor stuff was two weeks ago.”

“How was it?” Mike let his hand still and rest in his lap. “Like, what do you do in therapy? Just start talking?”

“Yeah, but it’s more than that. You have to think about stuff too. Doctors ask you questions, sometimes.” Will pulled back and drug his old drawing supplies along the carpet. He sat back on his heels and was able to see Mike over the top of the bed. He didn’t know Will was looking. “You have to have answers.”

“What do they ask about?” Mike kept looking at his hands, unaware of Will. “Upside down stuff?”

“Sometimes.” Will shuffled back around to Mike's side of the bed. He could feel the tiniest bit of rug burn starting. “She asked me about my dad today.”

Mike looked up, almost immediately. “Can she do that?”

“Why can’t she?” Will popped the lid on the retired Tupperware, now his art bin. “I talked about it.”

“I thought you didn’t like to.” Will had never said those words which meant Mike had gathered it from just observing him. “Did you… like talking about it?”

“Not really.” Will laughed. He found a few extra crayons, but of all the wrong colors. “She had this big speech afterward about learned helplessness that I… really didn’t like.” Will tried to keep laughing.

Mike put the crayon back in the bin. “Are you okay, Will?”

“Yeah. It’s just… the same old stuff.” Will shrugged. “Sometimes it just bothers me more than other days.”

Mike bit the inside of his cheek, picking at his words carefully. “You never talk about your dad, Will.”

“Why would I?”

“Because it bothers you. You can talk about anything you want-- I… I would listen.”

“You don’t have to listen to it just because it happened to me, you know. My therapist says you don’t have to experience things with me for them to be real.”

“But I want to know.” Mike looked insulted, almost crushed and collapsed as he sat back on his hands. “That’s your dad,” he said. “And you’re my friend.”

They sat in silence for a while. Mike went back to studying a new crayon, picking at the wrapper. Will felt something forming in his throat. A bubble that was hot, thick and sticky. Not vomit, but not impending tears either.

“I don’t get why he left.” Will said. “I don’t know what happened to our family.”

“Nothing happened. Maybe he just… wasn’t good at being your dad anymore.”

“But then why? What did I do?” Will didn’t want to ask Mike, make him feel responsible for answering, but Will was desperate to ask the universe again.

“Nothing.” Mike said. “I just think he…”

“He what? My dad got tired of me? Didn’t want to raise me?”

“Maybe he actually learned how to take a hint and knew he wasn’t good enough for you and Jonathan-- or your mom.” Mike wanted to be hopeful, to be positive, so badly. He ached, his smile tight and weak. He didn't have the answers, and who was Will to put him in the position to come up with them.

“So he gave up.” Will said.

“That’s not what I meant--”

“I know. I know… That’s just how it feels.” Will shrugged. He smiled at Mike, accepting his help and his warmth. It hurt knowing that Mike was wrong, but still. Will could always pretend a little longer. Anything for Mike.

“Hey! You monsters hungry?” Steve clapped his hands together before gently tapping the door. “Jonathan’s got dinner on the table.”

The door was open. Steve didn’t have to knock. He wanted to, just to prove he wasn’t too comfortable, but he also knew Mike was over. And knocking would announce his entrance rather than letting it just be something that just was . Rather than being cool .

Awkwardly and with a lot of weird, throat-clearing fanfare, Steve opened the Byers’s front door and poked his head inside. Jonathan called him in from the kitchen without even needing to say hello, or being surprised by his walking in: In here, Steve! Dinner’s almost done .

Steve walked through the living room carefully, as if he’d disturb it. There was a tape playing softly-- some band Steve’s never heard of, but didn’t hate. He’d grown to like the way that every song played in the Byers house was always moody and melancholy. The music was always the opposite of how he felt stepping into the kitchen.

Jonathan was at the stove, stirring a pot of something that smelled delicious. He had what looked to be tomato sauce stains on the front of his shirt-- where he wrapped his hand up to open the sauce jar. Steve was able to hide his smile as he shouldered off his uniform jacket and toed off his shoes, claiming a chair at the kitchen table.

“How was work?” Jonathan didn’t stop stirring. He moved like the stove was turned all the way up and he was afraid of burning the food. He spoke that way too.

“It was fine. Not a whole lot.” Steve didn’t want to have anything seem bigger than whatever upset Jonathan-- and seemed to still be upsetting him now. “How was your day?”

“Fine. Will and Mike are in the other room.” He was checking things off his list. Steve stepped up to Jonathan and stood even with him at the stove. He was making one-pot pasta. It really did smell fantastic. Steve was so hungry, even after his lunch.

“How was… the other things in your day? Develop any good pictures?” Steve covered how stupid he sounded by placing his hand on Jonathan’s lower back.

Jonathan stopped stirring and looked at him. Steve tried to keep cool, tried not to show his motives-- his attempt to calm something he couldn’t believe he’d missed spinning out of control, even if he didn’t know what it was. “Nancy walked into the dark room today-- she’s actually the one who gave me the muffin-- and she exposed the photos to light too early. So no, actually.”

Steve really was a bad boyfriend. Even when he wasn’t one yet-- or at all.

“Okay… how was. Everything else?”

“You don’t have to ask about my day, Steve. It’s okay.” Jonathan sighed and spoke evenly. “I’m just a little tired. Really. We don’t have to do the whole… thing .”

The whole thing where Steve was explicit about how much he really cared about Jonathan and admitted he was sincerely and terrifyingly in love with Jonathan.

“I was asking because I was curious. Not out of obligation.” Steve clarified. His hand slid to rest on Jonathan’s hip. He moved closer, lips aiming to place a commitment-less kiss on his cheek.

“Steve! I said to keep it cool .” Jonathan ducked back, placing a hand on Steve’s chest. “I don’t want Will to see us.”

“Your brother?” Steve was surprised; of all people Jonathan explicitly wanted to hide from Will seemed kind and forgiving-- not that there was anything to forgive, but it was something Steve often checked for. Steve was sure that one of Dustin’s friends would be… like Steve. Or like Jonathan-- maybe. All of them seemed prepared to deal with any of their friends suddenly being different. Far more prepared than Steve ever was.

“Yes. My brother.” Jonathan snapped, banging the spoon against the edge of the pot. “I don’t want him to learn I’m not dating Nancy but instead seeing her ex-boyfriend in the same day.” he whispered.

“Wait, what? He thinks you’re with Nancy?” Steve wasn’t sure where they went wrong. They were trying to obscure the truth, not lead everyone to a different reality. “D-Do you think Mike does too?”

“I don’t know! I didn’t want to ask and seem weird.” Jonathan sighed again. He sounded tense again. “I told Will I’d tell him if I was seeing anyone… And he promised me the same.”

Steve knew not to press the obvious question-- well are you seeing someone, Jonathan? -- but also didn’t want to touch the obvious implication that Will needed to share a secret with Jonathan. Instead, he placed his hands into his pockets and turned to lean against the counter.

“Dinner smells really good, Byers.” There was another name that began with “B” that Steve wasn’t allowed to use, but always wanted to. Byers Byers Byers. Baby baby baby. “Thank you, again, for cooking for me-- for us.”

“You think I’m going to let you starve?” His stirring slowed; the stove cooled down. He nudged Steve’s arm with the spoon. “You coming home late and trying to cook? You mean half-drinking a beer and falling asleep face down on your bed in your uniform, half unbuttoned.”

“You picture that often, Byers?” Steve lifted an eyebrow. “Hm?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Jonathan’s lips quirked into a smile again. “But, if you’d like a beer, I think there’s one in the fridge. No one in the house is going to touch it.”

“I can go ask Will if he wants it.”

“Shut up-- do you want it or not?”

“No.” Steve didn’t like drinking when they were together. He’d never really heard the full story about where Mr. Byers went, but he had a father of his own to make those blank spaces fill pretty fast. “But thanks. Don’t want the habit of needing a beer to forget how boring my job is.”

“I thought you liked your job?” Jonathan took a piece of pasta out of the pot and held it out for Steve to test.

He chewed and answered. “I do! It’s nice to have normal hours-- and I’m happy to help have replacements as Flo gets ready to retire but… I don’t know. Sometimes it feels boring .”

“Would you rather be chasing down a four-legged monster without a face?” Jonathan let out a bubble of genuine laughter, playfully glaring at Steve.

“Frankly, yes! At least we’d all have something to do. I feel like I don’t see everyone anymore.”

“Then throw a party. Don’t wish for anything bad to happen.” Jonathan said firmly. “Let the record show my brother is a very strange magnet for all this… weird shit.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” Steve said solemnly. He put his hand on Jonathan’s forearm. “I wish we were all safely doing something exciting. It felt nice to be needed, even if no one knew it was us.”

Jonathan put the spoon down on the counter and pivoted to be looking only at Steve. There was something resting just on the tip of his tongue, just under the surface of their conversation. It would’ve been a digression-- Steve could tell by Jonathan’s tense and furrowed brow-- but he would’ve listened.

“Jonathan?” Steve squeezed his arm, lifting his eyebrows. “What is it?”

“I--” He clenched his jaw, trying to swallow his words. “I think--” Steve knew there was no end to Jonathan’s sentence; merely starting it meant there was trust between them. A careful admission through omission. Steve knew Jonathan was looking at his shoes and wouldn’t be seen as he took in the secret flinches of Jonathan’s face. The crinkle by his left eye, the twitch of his mouth, double blinking--

They both jumped apart as the phone started ringing, practically shaking on the wall. Jonathan stepped away from Steve and left everything unsaid. Again.

Jonathan tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder as he turned to lean against the wall.

“Hello? This is--” His face changed sharply, his eyebrows furrowing. “I told you to stop bothering us. You’re lucky she’s not here to pick up the phone-- I don’t care !” Jonathan cleared his throat and looked at Steve in a flash of uncertainty and anxiety. “I have the police here right now and if you don’t stop calling me I will send them to your house-- it’s not a threat if you’re the one bothering us. Stop. Calling.” He slammed the phone down and braced his weight against the wall with his other hand.

“Am I considered ‘the police’ now?” Steve said lightly. It was his way of letting Jonathan know he was listening, but not asking direct questions. “I’m not even allowed to have a badge.”

“It counts.” Jonathan said, letting his arms fall down by his sides. Steve stepped over and kept stirring dinner.

“Who was that?”

“No one. Can you go get the boys in the other room? Dinner’s ready.” Jonathan pushed Steve aside to hunch over the stove again.

“Sure.” Steve nodded, knowing he wasn’t seen. “Hey! You monsters hungry? Jonathan’s got dinner on the table.”

Dinner felt weird.

Will couldn’t help but feel like he and Mike had gotten into a fight. Talking about his dad made anything feel sticky, feel like it was violent or volatile. A second from snapping or tearing off, bouncing around the walls and echoing in Will's body. A small conversation between friends-- actually a little understanding between best friends-- felt like it had been a screaming match, all because it was cut off. There was no apology from Will. He didn't have the chance to tie it all up with an I’m sorry, I’m really sorry, forget I said anything.

His plea sat heavy on his tongue as he talked to Steve-- who had arrived without notice-- and let Mike make him laugh so hard he nearly shot water out his nose. Will let it all happen under the tremor, the ache, of an apology. And maybe, if he was the best brother and friend he should’ve been, no problems or therapy, it would be enough of an apology.

He wasn't hungry and only ate half his serving of pasta, even though it was usually his favorite of Jonathan's recipes. He did apologize for that though, and it felt right to say aloud. Even if it was misdirected and no one heard it.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm so so sorry. Please come back--

Mike wasn’t tired, Will knew, but he still wanted to go to bed right after their horror movie ended. It was clear Mike hadn't been paying attention to the movie; the entire plot was that dreams were a new horror-scape for monsters to get teenagers. It wasn't too scary to Will; it just felt familiar. The villain looked different, more human, but Will knew what it felt like to dream while wide awake. To watch and be unable to do anything but scratch at the surface--

Convincing Will to get ready for bed, Mike said they’d have all day in the morning. He said that maybe he could convince his mom to let him stay over again if they don’t get all their fun in. Will knew Mike's mom probably would, if only because she felt bad for Will. But he would take the pity. A sleepover wasn't the worst thing to get from pity.

Will could still hear Mike fidgeting in his sleeping bag. He was rubbing his feet together like a cricket and twisting his wristwatch. The plastic scratched the sheer material of his sleeping bag rhythmically: back and forth. back and forth. backandforthbackandforth. It was like Mike was counting the ticks of his silent digital watch. Will began to play with his own watch, keeping it on in bed only because he'd noticed Mike hadn't removed it when they were brushing their teeth that night; apparently the watch was too good to part with.

Time though, was something Will wished he could separate himself from. He could hear the seconds scraping by now. Every moment he kept his friend awake and bored because Will was too weak or (rather and) too everything to stay up late again.

Therapy hadn’t even been that bad. Not really. Maybe it could be exhausting but it didn’t count because Will sat in the same spot for an hour. It wasn’t real work. It shouldn’t have counted. Will should’ve been able to hang out with his friend until sunrise, getting in trouble with his mom for being up so late. He should’ve still been a stupid, carefree kid, not a by-gone troubled teenager.

Maybe his dad had seen that from the beginning. Will's dad was always gambling, betting on baseball games he had these incredible "feelings" on. Sometimes he was wrong, but when he was right it was an amazing prediction; having the foresight no one else had. And maybe that was what it was, leaving them when he did. Maybe he saw Will wouldn’t be the second son he wanted after all. Maybe he knew of all the damage that would be done to him, the damage he would cause. Probably saw it from miles-- years-- away. And he left without a single warning to any of it.

What if his father had known? Could've known where he was when he came back into town two years ago? Not gone forever just in the lights. Just out of reach, just through the wall, Dad. What if he had known, been able to see, able to know, but wanted to leave Will Down there being possessed and enveloped and consumed and--

Will felt a chill scurry down his back. The feeling almost had legs. Too many. He felt ice cold, his body going blank-- not numb, but blank -- for a second. He couldn’t feel his fingers, but could still feel every inch of his body, suddenly pulsing and seizing.

"Will?" Mike asked, sitting up. He gripped the end of the bed and pulled his face closer to Will's. He squinted in the darkness, feeling for Will’s hand. Will couldn’t answer, his jaw tense and breath rattling out of him. "Will, what’s wrong?"

After a (thankfully) non-awkward dinner, Steve and Jonathan washed all the dishes and let the boys watch whatever movie they wanted. Steve didn’t pay attention to what tape he put in the VRC. He was too busy thinking about the hands hidden in the warm soapy water in the kitchen sink. Neither Mike nor Will seemed too bothered by the disgusting amount of blood or the scary blade man on the TV. He felt no regret letting them go to bed right after the credits rolled. Jonathan had looked exhausted after putting the last dish away, and dozed off during the climax of the movie-- even slept through the high-pitched screaming.

They waited for the sound of Will’s door closing over before they got into bed.

Jonathan flopped onto his back, a pillow resting between his chest and crossed arms. Steve laid on his side, bracing his weight on his elbow. He poked at Jonathan's furrowed eyebrow lightly.

"What's the problem, Byers?"

"Nothing."

"You are not a really great liar, you do know that right?" That and Steve could still hear Robin's blasé recounting of Jonathan's distress. Yeah. Crying, sniffling, snot-- the whole nine, man.

Jonathan sighed and turned to look at Steve. He hated being called out. "It's about Will."

"What's wrong with Will? He seemed alright at dinner."

"Yeah, but," Another sigh. "Steve, I think my brother’s gay."

Steve's first response was swallowed and he nodded. "Okay. Okay. And, um, what's the issue with that?" He adjusted himself on the bed, hoping there was more subtlety in that.

"I can't talk to him about it. I mean," Jonathan smiled and reached to touch his face. "This is a very different thing than being fourteen and confused."

"Who says he's confused?"

"I don't mean with himself-- the rest of the world is so confusing, Steve. You see the news... I can't talk to him. I didn't grow up like that. And being with you is... Different. We dated girls before. Will... I don't know. I think he knows already."

"You think he's got feelings for--"

"Oh absolutely." Jonathan nodded, closing his eyes. "Oh, I'm so glad it's not just me who sees it."

"Hopefully Wheeler does too."

"Hey, keep your voice down, he's only a few rooms over ."

"Sorry. Sorry. Me and my big mouth " Steve rested his head on Jonathan's shoulder. "Shut me up, maybe."

"Not until my mom gets back." Jonathan said, rolling up onto his side too. "If I catch her when she comes in the door, she won't come into my room to say good night. I can't have you distracting me until then."

"Your mom is on a date. She's an adult and so are you." Steve kissed Jonathan's shoulder. "You are a working man who just finished a long day at work-- I think you can cuddle up with your boyf--" Steve choked on his own stupidity, feeling his face go red and charisma die on impact. "With me."

"I will. Once my mom is back." Jonathan kissed Steve, as if a parting promise. Only to backtrack on his words immediately. He tucked Steve’s hair back behind his ear, his hands trying not to hold his face. “No-- no . Steve, not until my mom gets back.”

“I can keep an ear out--” As Steve spoke, the power in his bedside lamp dimmed. The power hummed quietly before flickering back up. Jonathan tensed and pushed himself up in bed.

“Did you see that?”

“Yeah, it was just the light, Byers. It’s windy out tonight, maybe a tree brushed a powerline.” Steve pushed Jonathan back down to his pillow-- and back into his own skin again. “It’s nothing . What if I turn out the light? Your mom won’t even see us in here.”

“No. No, I have to wait for her.”

“What if she doesn’t come back?”

“What!” Jonathan jerked upright again.

“I meant what if she’s at Hopper’s or something?” Steve shrugged. “She’s an adult.”

“Steve, that’s my mom .” Jonathan hissed, swatting at the hand resting on his shoulder.

“I meant because she drove there on her own. If she had some wine, maybe she stayed somewhere and is being a smart, responsible parent.” Steve soothed. “Something you don’t have to be right now. You’re not Will’s parent and you aren’t your own. Lay down, will you?”

Jonathan was reluctant, but let Steve ease him back down again. He pulled the pillow tighter to his chest and sighed, his crossed arms sinking deeper. Steve laid down beside him, nose gently touching the end of his shoulder. As he breathed, his short exhales tickled Jonathan’s skin and got him giggling. It was Steve’s secret trick; something that always worked because Jonathan didn’t know it was a pattern-- didn’t know he was ticklish.

“Sorry I was weird today.” Jonathan said suddenly. He wasn’t even grinning.

“What?” They didn’t apologize. There was no need. “You’re worried about stuff-- it’s okay.”

“No, I like our dinners. And I was so uptight. I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Okay.” Steve didn’t know what to do with the sentiment. “Apology accepted?”

Jonathan sighed again, blowing it out slowly between his pressed lips. “Lonnie called today.”

“L- your dad ? Is that who was on the phone?” Steve wasn’t sure what came over him-- or his body-- as he placed an arm over Jonathan’s waist and pulled them together. There was something unspokenly intimate talking about abusive fathers while being nearly sutured together in bed, but Steve pretended he was just having problems hearing Jonathan correctly.

“Yeah.” Jonathan turned, his nose brushing Steve’s. “Said he wants custody of Will. He doesn’t trust Mom, he said.”

“How is he-- He can’t do that.”

“He’s going to try. I don't know where it came from. He still thinks he can win a case because the news says Will just disappeared into the woods . Like he ran away from us or something.”

“Everyone knows that’s not true.”

“A court might not.” Jonathan sighed, ducking his head down. Steve resisted lifting his chin to hook it over Jonathan’s head, nestling him into his neck. He laid still, listening to his breathing and the gentle creaking of the house--

Jonathan's door was thrown open, both men sitting up quickly, ready to defend themselves and their actions. It was Mike, in his pajamas with his hair sticking out in wild curls. Will stood just behind him in the hallway looking far more awake. Stilted and untousled.

"Mike?"

"Jonathan, quick!"

"What is it?" Jonathan swung his legs around and motioned both boys to come in. "Will?" Mike pushed him into the center of the door frame, although he remained in the hallway, in the light. Will’s hand grabbed at the back of his neck. His face was blank and his eyes were distant.

"Something's wrong." Will said slowly, blinking to focus. "I feel him."

"Feel who?" Jonathan kneeled in front of Will, holding his shoulders. "Feel who, Will?"

"Dad."

#stonathan #jonathan byers x steve harrington #byeler #will byers x mike wheeler #byler #finally reposting in a way that isn't a random post with a link alksdja #prompts #my fics

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multiwendi · 4 years

Note

P1harmony reaction to their s/o being too shy to order for themselves?

hello! here’s your request ♡ sorry for taking me too long, my life is crazy right now

reaction continues under keep reading

P1harmony reaction to their s/o being too shy to order for themselves

Keeho

Keeho took you on dinner after his comeback with boys. It was a fancy restaurant. He's been watching you for a while because you seemed silent and nervous.

"Pumpkin, what's wrong with you?" he asked you carefully. You didn't answer at first because you were shocked by the prizes on the menu.

"Pumpkin, what's wrong with you?" he asked again, meeting your shocked eyes.

"Actually, I'm not hungry at all," you said, placing the menu on the table.

"Before we got here, you said how hungry you are. So I ask you one last time. What's wrong?" Keeho looks at you with a confused look.

"Everything costs insanely too much, even the salads. I don't want to cost you a fortune," you said, sanctifying your head to avoid his gaze. He lets out a chuckle.

"Pumpkin, I have enough money to buy you this dinner with dessert, then take you to the movies with a ton of popcorn and coke. Don't be shy and order anything you want."

Theo

Your boyfriend asked you if you want to go out and eat some delicious food since you have a lot of assignments. So you said yes because you were exhausted and want to relax. You met at your favorite burger's place, where you met, by the way, and where you went on your first date.

"Hi, princess. I a, so hungry! I haven't eaten since breakfast because I'm ready to eat until I have to unbutton my pants how much I would overeat," Theo kissed you on the cheek. You giggled while you hugged him tightly. He intertwined his fingers with you, and then you finally entered the restaurant where no one but you and the staff was.

"Our best customers are back, welcome. As usual or something extra?" the kind old lady asked with a big smile on her lips.

"For me as usual and for you, Y/N?" Theo bumped into your hip. You looked upon the food menu, staring at onion rings with a sauce. But you ended up picking your usual.

"As usual for me too," you said, exhaling deeply.

"Are you sure? I saw you looking at something more," the lady gasped.

"Add double onion rings with your great sauce," Theo winked at the lady. You gave him a surprised look.

"Why are you suddenly shy? You know you can order anything," he smiled at you, hugging you around the shoulders.

"I know but, I may gain weight after all this junk food," you sighed.

"Oh, come on. I ordered double onion rings. Let's gain weight together."

Jiung

It was Saturday night when you came into the boys' dorm for a movie marathon. You were sitting on the couch all together watching some scary movie, which wasn't scary at all. Jiung was cuddling with you, but then, suddenly, your stomach made a loud noise because you hadn't eaten yet.

"Oh my god, sunshine, why did you don't tell me you're hungry?" Jiung looked at you worriedly.

"Let's order something! Chicken? Pizza? Or something else?" Intak asked, grabbing his phone, ready to call somewhere.

"I'd like some salad, please," you said shyly. You know the guys for a few weeks, but you were shy to eat before them.

"Sunshine, don't be shy, let's order that fabulous chicken we had last time at yours."

Intak

You love desserts so does Intak. A new bakery near fnc opened a few days ago, and you planned to go there and eat anything that caught your eye. All those cakes, muffins, rolls, biscuits, cakes shouted "eat me" at you. You looked up at Intak, seeing his sparkling eyes and a bright smile on his lips.

"Oh my god, I can't decide what to order. What about you, sweetie?" he asked, whining.

"I was thinking about the strawberry cake," you pointed at the great looking piece of cake. You avoided Intak's gaze because you were also interested in a coconut roll with chocolate icing.

"Only that? I saw you looking at more than that," he tilted his head to the side and frowned at you.

"The coconut roll looks so good, but I don't have enough money with me. So yeah, only that piece of cake," you nodded, stepping from foot to foot.

"Really? You know I invited you to our candy-filled date, so don't say anything about money. I promised to pay for anything we liked. So The strawberry cake and coconut roll?"

Soul

Another date with Soul went like this: you met at your house, then you walked a little bit around your neighborhood, and the last stop you made, was visiting McDonald's. Soul was talking about the fries all way there.

"What do you want to order? Nuggets, fries, some wrap or happy meal?" his eyes were sparkling, warming your heart. He's so cute when he's talking about the food.

"Can I have only one wrap, please?" you looked at him with a small smile because you weren't THAT hungry to eat all of the food.

"Oh. I thought I'd buy you a happy meal, and then we'd argue about the toy inside," he said with a sigh.

"Maybe I change my mind. I'd like to have a happy meal. Can I, please?"

Jongseob

Jongseob invited you on a tacos date. So you thought it was going to be a date, but when you saw Kee and Theo, you realized it wasn't going to be a normal date. It will be another date full of tricky questions and interrogations about your relationship. You greeted with a shy smile. You haven't felt so good enough to eat in front of them yet. You went inside, looking for a free table to sit at. When you all sat down you look at all the beautiful looking tacos.

"I can't decide which to choose. Can someone help me choose, maybe you, Y/N?" Theo looked at you with a polite smile.

"The chicken tacos and beef tacos are awesome, but the spicy mixed tacos are great too," you said shyly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"So which one are you gonna pick?" Jongseb smiled at you from ear to ear.

"I'll take the chicken one," you put the menu on the table.

"Are you sure you want only one? You always take at least two," your boyfriend looked at you surprised.

"If you're shy because of us, we're sorry. Don't be shy because you belong to us now."

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collecting-stories · 4 years

Text

Bake-off - JJ (Outer Banks)

Request: can you write something with jj where the reader bakes a lot :) i understand if not, but i bake a lot (especially pies, i’m rambling sorry!) and thought this would be cute

A/N: So, since it’s JJ the baking had to include weed. 😛

Outer Banks Masterlist

///

The tray of banana nut muffins sat on John B’s table, half eaten. It was long before Big John died that there was ever even a homemade birthday cake in the house, neither men having much luck in the kitchen. But the muffins didn’t belong to John B anyway, they were JJ’s, which was even more peculiar, according to Kiara. If the Routledge men were shit at baking than the Maybank’s had never even turned on an oven.

“They’re a gift.” JJ shrugged, laying across the laz-e-boy on the porch and munching on one.

“A gift?” That was more shocking than their existence. JJ didn’t really get gifts and definitely not baked goods.

“Did you mow someone’s lawn?” Pope asked, reaching for the muffin only to have JJ Flop away from him at the last second.

“You could say that.” He grinned, attempting and failing a wink.

“Ew, JJ.” Kiara groaned and walked back into the living room, emerging a moment later with one, “oh my god they’re edibles.”

“What?” Pope asked.

“There’s weed in them.”

“Yes there is.” JJ grinned, “I ate two last night and was cooked. It’s some good shit.”

“Is it your shit?” Kiara asked, taking a bite.

“Obviously, I said it was good didn’t I? I got the best shit on the island Kie.” He replied.

“I know you didn’t make them so who made them for you?”

JJ was a purest, as he dramatically referred to it. He rolled his own joints, dried his own weed for vaping, and he didn’t do edibles. At least he didn’t until one of the guys in the kitchen at the hotel turned 21. A box of cookies sat on the counter in the kitchen, marked Andrew. Double chocolate-chocolate chip, according to Andrew, and packed with a enough weed to “have you cooked after half of it”.

“They’re delicious man, you gotta try one.” Andrew had insisted.

“I don’t do edibles.”

“You’ll regret it.”

And naturally, being told that there was the possibility for regret was a guaranteed way to ensure JJ did something. His bizarre fear of missing out dictated that he have no regrets and so he took one and ate the whole thing right there in the kitchen. And it was good...it was so good it didn’t even taste like weed and he was two seconds from telling Andrew he’d been dupped when he felt the familiar ease settle over him.

“Where’d you get these?” He asked, slipping three into a plastic bag and dropping them in his backpack.

“That girl that works in the kids area.” Andrew shrugged.

You were a glorified babysitter, in charge of occupying people’s toddlers while they went out to play golf or shop or go to the spa. Not the greatest job in the world but the kids were usually easily contained and the parents always tipped well.

JJ knew you to see you, always wandering around with some kid or another attached to your hip, talking about Frozen or Descendants...he’d heard you duet a song from some Disney Channel movie with one of the little girls just last week. It made you seem a bit green honestly. He couldn’t imagine you doing anything less than innocent, especially making your own edibles.

He waited until after his shift to look for you, still wearing his white button up and vest but with his cargo shorts back on. You were outside supervising and participating in a game of soccer with a handful of eight year olds.

“Hey,” he called, waving to you as he walked up. You tossed the soccer ball back into the makeshift field and turned toward JJ, “Andrew said you made him those cookies, for his birthday.”

“Oh yeah,” you nodded, “I know he doesn’t like to smoke so...”

“Could you make me some?”

“Sure, what flavor?” You turned away for a moment to make sure all five of your children were still actively playing soccer and JJ took the opportunity to check you out. Your t-shirt advertised the hotel and hung loose on you. Shorts and a pair of running shoes completed the look and he was appreciative for the view of your legs.

“Chocolate peanut butter.” JJ decided.

Chocolate peanut butter cookies, snickerdoodles, brownies, blondies, coffee cake, you and JJ had slowly formed a friendship built on experimental edible recipes. He supplied the weed and you made him whatever baked goods he could think up. He had even downloaded the Tasty app and Pinterest for the sake of finding new desserts for you to tackle.

“So this girl just makes you whatever you want?” Kiara asked the next time a container of cookies appeared at John B’s house. Sugar cookies, with piped on icing that made them look like beach balls.

“It’s business Kie. I supply the weed from my cousin, she makes the edibles. We sell them too, it’s a very lucrative business.” JJ replied, eyes closed, laying in the hammock outside John B’s while he smoked.

Kiara was munching on a sugar cookie. She wasn’t really complaining about the edibles, her mom had been on her lately about the possibility of her smoking and the edibles were easier to hide. Especially because yours didn’t smell half as bad as some she’d had in the past. Mostly she was just curious about this girl that JJ was spending time with. He acted like it was casual but Kiara had known him for a long time and she knew JJ lacked the ability to hang out with a girl casually. Even they toed the line sometimes.

“So when can we meet your esteemed business partner?” Kiara asked.

“What?” JJ rolled his head to the side to look over at her, pushing his sunglasses down his nose. “Why do you wanna meet her?”

“Why don’t you want us to meet her?” She countered.

“I don’t care. You can meet her.” JJ replied, trying to act nonchalant about the whole thing. He couldn’t fool Kiara and he knew that but that didn’t stop him from trying. He didn’t want you to meet his friends, mainly because he liked having you all to himself. It meant your attention wasn’t divided four ways.

“These are burnt on the bottom.” You commented, sitting on the kitchen island beside a cooling rack of peanut butter cookies. The peanut butter was JJ’s favorite though you usually didn’t make them because of allergies.

“They’re fine.” JJ replied, munching on a cookie while he scrolled through tiktok. You rolled your eyes at him and held one up, turning it over to inspect the nearly black bottom of the cookie. JJ had sworn that he would keep an eye on them while you left to talk to your mom on the phone but he’d let the buzzer go two minutes before he finally took it out.

“At least you’re the only one eating them.” You remarked, taking a bite of the one in your hands. You scrunched up your nose at the taste of burnt cookie, “the high better be worth it.”

JJ put his phone down, pushing off the counter so that he could come over and stand in front of you. You raised an eyebrow as JJ moved your knees apart so that he could stand between your legs. He opened his mouth, letting out an ‘ahh’ and you rolled your eyes at him as you placed the burnt peanut butter cookie in his mouth.

“It’s burnt.” You reiterated, watching him chew the cookie. You had discovered that JJ could pace himself far better with a blunt than he could a batch of cookies. He’d eat three in a row and get cooked, an unusual occurrence for him. You ran a hand through his hair, brushing it out of his eyes. “Your hair is so greasy it literally stands up on its own.” You teased.

“I washed it!”

“The last time you went in the ocean does not count as a bath.” You replied. You continued to play with his hair as he leaned closer to you, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

“You have off tomorrow?” JJ asked, still munching on his cookie.

“Yeah but my mom’s home all day.” You replied.

The experimental creating of edibles had led to a friendship and then a something in between. You weren’t quite ready to call JJ your boyfriend but you certainly weren’t entertaining the idea of anyone else. He spent all his time at your house when he wasn’t with his friends or working. Even when your mom was home and there was no baking, he hung around. At work he sought you out throughout the day, more than once crashing whatever activity you were doing with your kids.

“I was thinking you could come out on the boat with us.” JJ said. He was determined, now that he’d told Kiara he would, to introduce you to everyone. It certainly didn’t mean that he was planning on giving up his alone time with you but he’d concede to Kiara this time. “My friends wanna meet you.”

“Okay, I’d like that.” You replied, smiling at the implication that he was introducing you to his friends, “but I’m making them better cookies cause these are burnt.”

“There’s nothing wrong with them.”

“No but there’s something wrong with me for trusting you to watch the oven.” You said.

His eyes opened and he pouted at you. “I’m very responsible.”

“I know babe.”

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jimlingss · 4 years

Text

Sugar and Coffee [2]

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

➜ Words: 2.2k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

“In this recipe, we’re using baking soda instead of baking powder. Why? Does anyone remember the reason when we talked about our recipe of mille-feuille?” You’re twirling your pen in your hand, bored out of your mind while someone answers that baking soda doesn’t have the acid that baking powder would normally add and how baking soda has much stronger leavening power than baking powder. Theory has never been your area of expertise. You’ve always preferred to do the actual baking and go through trial and error than learning through the textbook. So with your mind wandering and from fear of falling asleep, you pull out your phone to text Seokjin. He’s been answering your texts slower these days. “Alright, next class we’ll put our hands to work in the kitchen. Don’t pack up yet! I got some emails asking about the midterm so I just wanted to answer those questions here! Yes, it will be a collaborative exam and you can re-make anything that we’ve learned thus far in the semester. Baking is all about working together, so before I leave, I’ll post who everyone’s partners are. Come down and take a look before you go.” With the lecture finished, you pack up your belongings, shoving it all into your bag and swinging the strap over your shoulder to walk down the steps. It’s crowded already, but as people filter out, you’re able to get ahead to look at the paper. And as luck would have — you’re partnered with Jeon Jungkook. It’s outrageous. As if having the same internship for three months wasn’t enough, now he’s your midterm partner. You spin around to the teacher, beelining straight to him. But Jeon Jungkook beats you to it. “Is there a possible way I can switch my partner?” “I second that.” For once, you back him up. It’s probably the only thing you can agree on. Jungkook looks to you before redirecting his attention back at the man who has his brow quirked. “Is there a legitimate reason?” “Umm….” “Our schedules don’t align,” Jungkook lies without batting a lash. “Yeah.” You nod. “He has classes when I don’t and uh, he’s working on different projects when I have work….” “It would be more convenient if we had different partners.” “Wow, you two figured out you have incompatible schedules a minute into finding out you’re partners? Well, I’m sure you two can work something out.” Mr. Chu smiles, overly positive in a way that irks you. “Things have a way of working themselves out.” In these circumstances, you’re not too sure about that. Jungkook swallows hard, finding whatever excuse he can. “I’m afraid Y/N won’t pull her weight.” “Excuse me?!” You can’t believe he blatantly threw you under the bus in front of your face. “That’s completely untrue! He won’t be able to pull his weight.” “We’re just incompatible partners.” Jungkook outright ignores you. “I am happy to work with anyone, Mr. Chu. Just not her. Park Jimin said he would be fine to switch his partner and work with me.” He hitches a thumb over his shoulder to his timid friend standing near the door who realizes he’s being talked about and gives a polite wave. Yet, the teacher gives a long sigh. “Look, you two. I know there’s bad blood between you both but wouldn’t this be a great opportunity to overcome that like the adults that you are?” “I—” “Mr. Chu—” “I’m sorry, but there won’t be any switching.” He shakes his head. “Often times, you can’t choose who you work with in the real world. You just have to get over it and be professional. Learn a two or thing from that. That’s the point of this midterm. If there are concerns about the project, then you can visit my office hours. Otherwise, you’ll be working together and that’s final.” It’s official. You hate your fine pastries class — and it used to be your favourite too. “Fuck. Fuck,” he’s muttering, kicking the gravel from underneath his feet. You approach him with crossed arms. “You don’t have to keep saying it.” “What? That this fucking sucks?” “Look, I don’t like you anymore than you like me. You don’t have to make it harder than it needs to be.” “Oh yeah? You want to make it less hard? How about you stop existing then.” “Okay, fuck you, Johnson. Stop pouting like you’re fucking four years old. Are we going to talk about the project or do you want to flunk?” “Stop calling me Johnson.” “Or else what?” Jungkook rolls his eyes. “You’re so childish.” “I’m the childish one?” you scoff in disbelief. “I’m not the one practically throwing a tantrum.” “Whatever. But what’s there to talk about? We’ll make carrot cake.” “What the hell?” You’re appalled. He’s not even going to ask you? “No, we’ll make the charlotte royale.” “No, you idiot.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. You scoff again. This was absolutely unbelievable. It’s a shame that no one’s listening into this conversation — there’s no way you would be able to retell just how absurd this was. “Did you just call me an idiot?” “Yes, carrot’s the easiest. We’ll get it done and over with.” “I don’t want to get it done and over with.” You point right at him. “Unlike you, I care about my grades, okay? So what if it’s easy? It won’t get us the marks we need.” “Since when did you care about your grades?” “Okay, fuck off, Jeon.” Having enough of him, you decide to walk away but Jungkook soon calls out after you. “Are you going to give me your phone number?” You’re horrified enough to spin around and regard him with a disgusted expression. “What? No!” “For the project, you dumbass. You think I’m asking because I want to know?” You roll your eyes to the back of your skull and close the distance with three strides again. Surprisingly, the both of you civilly exchange contact information without ripping each other’s heads off but you don’t want to be with him longer than you need to. “When are we going to meet up? We should decide so I don’t have to text you.” “I’m fine with whenever.” “Tomorrow then.” “Sure.” You leave already texting Jin your grievances. He doesn’t answer since he’s so busy, but you’re ready to unload. // The next day comes too quickly. The first person you see in the morning is the last person you ever want to see — and Jungkook isn’t amused either. He regards you with a lazy gaze, dark circles, oversized black hoodie and jeans that he probably picked up off his floor and put on after giving a good sniff. Other partners are already in the kitchen figuring out their recipes, but you have yet to decide what to make. You swear the asshat is just disagreeing with you to make it harder and more miserable. “What don’t you understand? What you’re asking for is too unreasonable.” “Really? You think whipping meringue by hand is too difficult? Maybe you shouldn’t be baking then, Jeon.” “It’s time consuming,” he groans and rubs his temple. “And it’s not worth it. If you want to spend your time doing something impressive than we should make something like fucking I don’t know, Napoleon cake and call it a day.” “Okay, sounds good to me.” “What? Actually?” “I don’t see why not. You can make the puff pastry while I make the custard. We assemble together.” “You make it sound easier than it’ll be, but fine. We can meet up tonight. What, don’t give me that look. It’s not like you’re busy. And spending time with your boyfriend doesn’t constitute as being busy. The sooner we get this done, the sooner it’s over.” “Fine. How about eight?” “Seven thirty. See you then.” You’re exasperated. He’s a jerk. And you go on your way while shaking your head. 8:21 am. Y/N: still cant believe my luck 5:43 pm. Seokjin: Hey where are you? 5:44 pm. Seokjin: We should meet

Jungkook lives his life precariously. He is flexible and follows his instincts. That’s not to say he’s irresponsible, reckless or that he’s fickle. He’s adaptable and it’s the reason why he started baking anyways — a whim that he fell in love with.

Jungkook prefers to go with his gut feeling than plan every step of the way. And it’s his gut feeling that tells him you’re nothing but an absolute headache. “Let me suck on your muffin.” Yoongi’s expression dies, washing over into an impassive state. “Say that again, Kim, and I’ll never bring my extra muffins again.” Taehyung whines on the couch while Jimin laughs. Yoongi looks over at Jungkook. “Hey, want one, Kook?” He tosses him a blueberry muffin anyhow but Jungkook chucks it at Hoseok who catches it in both hands, almost missing. “Nah. What time is it? I gotta go.” “Where are you going on a Friday night at seven?” “Ooh, it’s a date, isn’t it?” Taehyung grins. “What kind of girl?” “Who is it?” Hoseok clarifies the question, cheek full of muffin. “I haven’t heard you talk about anyone ever.” “He wishes.” Jimin giggles, have an inkling of where it was he was going. “it’s not a date, dumbass. I have a meeting with my midterm project partner.” “Damn,” Yoongi comments, biting into the muffin he baked earlier in class. “That’s rough.” “His partner’s Y/N,” Jimin says with a sparkle in his eye, watching Jungkook get up from the couch. Taehyung’s eyes bulge. They nearly fall out of their sockets and he wheezes, pounding his chest as part of the muffin stuck in his gullet. “You’re partners with that psycho bitch?” “Yeah.” The youngest of all of them sighs. “I couldn’t change.” Jungkook walks past, but Yoongi stops him, plopping a hand on his shoulder. The usually cold man seems sympathetic for once and holds up his muffin. “Are you sure you don’t want one?” He dreads it — having to ditch his friends on a Friday night and the warmth of his dorm room. All in exchange for the chilly wind outside and the empty kitchens that’re eerie without souls inside them, just metal bowls and silver appliances. But Jungkook drags himself there anyway. He’s ten minutes early since he’s not one to leave people waiting. But when seven thirty eventually rolls around, you’re nowhere in sight. 7:34 pm. Jungkook: Are you coming or not He waits for an additional twenty minutes, sitting on the stool, playing games on his phone. Then he realizes the time and gets started anyhow. The puff pastry always takes longer to make anyways. But that doesn’t mean he isn’t frustrated — Jungkook’s frankly pissed off and if you decided to ditch him, you’ll have one or two things coming, that’s for sure. Jungkook beats two ounces of butter with a tablespoon of sugar. Then he folds in two beaten eggs, one tablespoon vinegar, cold water, three tablespoons of vodka, and salt. He folds in the two and a half cups of flour and forms a dough in his hands until it’s soft and pliable. Right when he wraps the bowl in plastic and slides it into the fridge to chill for an hour, the door to the kitchen opens. “You’re late.” You’re not even dressed in an apron nor is your hair tied back like it’s supposed to be but he doesn’t comment. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you? It’s been an hour and I’m done my part.” Silence. You don’t respond. Jungkook scoffs. It was a new low for you to give him the silent treatment when you’re the late one. Your head is downcasted, facing away from him, giving him the cold shoulder. You don’t spare him one glance as you go over to the fridge, pulling out eggs, sugar, flour, milk, vanilla beans, and butter. You pour milk into the saucepan haphazardly and it splashes everywhere on the counter. “Hey, watch it!” Jungkook rips the carton away from your hands. He didn’t know you were this much of an amateur. He watches you in mortification as you move to the flour bag, scooping out a whole cup instead of six tablespoons. He wonders if you had a stroke. “Y/N, you’re supposed to do the eggs next. What the hell is wrong with—” You burst into tears. Jungkook’s heart stutters. He pales. He freezes in place. He feels his entire body go rigid. And his brain breaks. ….. What. Tears. Full on tears are streaming down your face. You’re wailing, covering your face with your floured hands and crying into them. Your entire frame shakes as devastation wrecks through your entire body. He’s never seen you look so small before. He’s never seen you cry. Jungkook puts milk down, swallowing hard. He watches you with eyes as big as saucers. “I...I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” You sob. “J-Jin brok..e up w-with m...e.”

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jungkook fluff #jungkook scenario #jungkook fanfic #btsboulangerie #Y'ALL SHIT IS HITTING THE FAN #AT LEAST IT'S ABOUT TO

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alwaysanotherrainbow · 4 years

Text

my boyfriend never texts first

Remus just wants to not be the first one to send a message every once in a while. That’s not too much to ask, right?

relationship: romantic remrom, background remy and emile (also romantic)

warnings: major character death, extended mourning (secondary warnings- brief discussion of religious holidays, brief underage drinking mention, a lot of all-caps) notes: unrelated, human, hs/college au. virgil, emile, and remy are here too. If you need anything in the secondary warnings (or one of those latter three characters) edited out, please let me know and I can put that up for you!

____________________________________________________

Remus always texted him first. Always. It didn’t matter the situation, didn’t matter the time date place name face. Who what when where why. It first started when he texted hi roman :) when they first got phones; for whatever reason, Roman just never texted first. Either he’d call or they’d talk in person.

No matter. Remus could cope.

May 1:

8:37 PM tody i saw you by my locker 8:39 PM *today 8:42 PM why didnt you say hi?

May 2:

9:30 PM a teacher talked to me today 9:30 PM wanted to talk about how i’m doing after 9:52 PM well you know. he’s a sick bastard

Really, it wasn’t too much to ask for, was it? He just wanted to see him text first once in a while! May 7:

3:32 PM: by the way idk if you got this last time 3:36 PM: my class ring size is the medium 3:44 PM: hopefully you order it by the deadline :P 4:03 PM: no idea when the deadline is 4:20 PM: bLAZE IT 4:24 PM: sorry i have like 0 money so i got it from the consignment shop 4:31 PM: i hope you like synthetic rubies!! leaving them with ur dad 10:40 PM: update. i cried for four hours with your dad.

June 2:

7:30 AM: gRaDuAtIoN dAy!!! 7:32 AM: there’s cookies in the reception menu 7:35 AM: snickerdoodles your favorite [eyes] 10:02 AM: i’m getting some for u 10:05 AM: [kissy face] 7:40 PM: the announcement was Weird 7:43 PM: anyways i have the snickerdoodles (Remus couldn’t go over to where Roman was staying, so he left them in the living room. He knew Roman would appreciate them. Hopefully he’d come over (wait, probably not, given...))

Well, actually, he could understand why he never texted first. June 11:

12:14 PM: roMAN 12:16 PM: [Attachment: Remus_Picani-Kleitman_Acceptance_Letter.pdf] 12:18 PM: YEAHHHH 12:24 PM: I’m sure you got in too SEND ME YOURS WHEN YOU GET IT 12:32 PM: WE MIGHT SHARE A ROOM YEA 12:35 PM: [Attachment: celebration.jpg]

Everyone was probably saying that he ought to just move on, but to be honest, he couldn’t... Actually, to be honest, no-one had told him to move on to his face yet. In fact, everyone was surprised he was doing so well, given how bad the circumstances were! The situation was stressing him out so much, even his dads were gently advising him to rethink things. (Well, that was part of the territory with one of them being a therapist and the other being a barista.)

“I got y’all some kouign-amann from the cafe,” said Dad, putting it down on the counter. His shirt had SLEEP scrawled on it with a Sharpie; it was the one that Remus had made for him as a joke. He still wore it. Huh.

“Sweetie, what’s a queen amahn?” asked Papa.

“It’s a... er, it’s like a... this is kinda like a croissant that had dreams of a muffin tin and salted caramel. One for you, babe.... then one for Doodlebug-”

“Can I leave some for Roman?” asked Remus.

They exchanged a glance.

“Of course you can,” said Papa with a smile. “Your candle’s on the table. Also, I got the news about being accepted into university? Good job, kiddo. You know, that was your father’s alma mater.”

“Are you sure you want to go to school right away after...? No problem taking a gap year.”

Papa glared at Dad. “Be nice.”

“I’m sorry, Remus, it’s just...” Dad put down his coffee. “If you’re not ready, if you need more time-”

"I’m sure,” said Remus with a grin, trying to get rid of what he just remembered. “Trust me.”

“Please find a good way to put away the snickerdoodles, they’ve been there since last week!” shouted Papa.

June 12:

12:12 AM: its twelve twelve make a wish 12:15 AM: hey when does your phone bill go out? 12:20 AM: im just saying that would Explain some things 12:22 AM: i know your dad pays Everything like a year in advance 12:34 AM: tell him i say hi 12:34 AM: 12:34 MAKE A WISH

July 12:

3:30 PM: guess who’s a double major in bio and theatre!! 3:32 PM: marine biology babey 3:53 PM: it’s good for the SOUL 4:04 PM: this cute octopus reminded me of you by the way 4:10 PM: [Attachment: for_roman]

August 14:

6:24 PM: moving in is the Worst 6:32 PM: by the way i got a single 6:35 PM: no roommates 6:41 PM: still have the bunk tho 6:44 PM: also got ur favorite pillo

August 30:

2:12 AM: roman it is like two o’clock in the morning what the Heck are you doing here, 2:15 AM: if u see me wave Hi 2:32 AM: ok >:c 2:42 AM: dont mind Me just studyin on top of the planetarium 3:15 AM: tbh i didn’t even know we go to the same campus? haven’t seen you around or anything 3:17 AM: shit phones gonna di

September 28:

2:20 PM: i failed my test 2:22 PM: idk what to d 2:24 PM: *do

September 29: 7:30 PM: remember that octopus you gave me that eats negative emotions? 7:32 PM: it works!!

October 3:

1:10 PM: You’d like the theatre program, really 1:15 PM: just so u know they’ve listed your name as an ‘honorary member of the class of’ 1:19 PM: that’s really nice of them. idk if your dad knows

October 23:

9:45 AM: i had to explain one of our inside jokes 8( 9:52 AM: i can’t Explain the deodorant thing that was One Time 9:55 AM: also why i’m called The Duke 9:56 AM: its bc you said it. not my fault 9:58 AM: its still cute pls call me that still 9:59 AM: pancake brunch pancake brunch pancake brunch October 31: 6:12 PM: sun’s down! joyous samhain 6:15 PM: i remember when you sewed me that octopus btw, the one that eats ucky feelings 6:19 PM: how long did it take you to get the laurel sachet into it?? 6:34 PM: also thank you thank you thank you for helping me find a friendly church to celebrate all saints day 6:47 PM: that year was a NIGHTMARE because you forgot to get your white candles and carnelian, and i forgot my holy water, so we were driving around town like Madmen 6:59 PM: it was worth it though 7:03 PM: i left you a script, i think you’ll like it.

November 9:

11:19 PM: i miss you so so much.

November 10:

12:20 AM: ignor this i drank like 12:24 AM: a lot 1:15 AM: i’m sorry i should’ve been with you 1:22 AM: i shouldve been there With You. 1:45 AM: but i wasn’t 2:20 AM: i didn’t know thered be a 4:11 PM: shit i just saw these. Sorry to bother you December 2:

10:10 AM: hey roman, been a bit. yea sorry about last time. too much of the Alcohol 10:13 AM: gonna go over to my parents’ house 1:00 PM: if you wanna come over, you can. dad’s making snickerdoodles and papa’s gonna watch atla (yes i still have that dvd you got me do not @ me it’s with your candles on your table just like everything else) 1:03 PM: that was on the dot, i’m happy.

December 21

8:34 AM: hey, it’s snowing 9:13 AM: couldn’t help leaving you some hot cocoa. and snickerdoodles of course 10:12 AM: i love you Remus went to go help his dads with making breakfast, but by the time everyone was done cleaning and they had finished watching some shitty Hallmark movie, he remembered that he had left his phone upstairs. Going upstairs and looking at it, he felt something in him break.

[2 Unread: Roman <3, bf’s dad]

10:22 AM, Roman <3: Why are you texting this number? 11:15 AM, bf’s dad: Remus, disregard that last, I’m so sorry. I just found his phone and I saw only the recent message first

The phone started ringing. Remus answered it as quickly as he could.

“I’m so sorry Mr. Sanders I didn’t know that someone was actually getting these messages I thought the line was out,” he said within a few seconds before the person on the other side sighed.

“No, it’s quite all right. And Virgil’s all right, by the way, if you prefer. I... I was just looking through his things for the first time. You know, it being a holiday and all... Memories, things like that.”

“Yeah, I understand.”

“I just turned the phone back on, I’m getting a lot of messages.”

“Oh.” Remus stared at the wall, trying to come to terms with everything. “Well, I--”

“I’m not going to stop paying for his phone. I’m sorry, I just... I still have his voicemails on it, and I can’t stand the thought of it going offline either.”

“Right, I... I listen to it too.”

“I happened upon the last one he sent to you.”

“You looked at the messages?”

“I only looked over when I stopped getting new ones, but I saw the last question he sent you. For your ring size.”

“Yeah? He asked my ring size so that he could--”

“There’s no easy way to say this, but.. I found something of his. Can you come over?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t, but can you please tell me what it was? Please?”

“I really think I should tell you this in person.”

“Please, Mr. Sanders. Please, I... I can’t manage that.”

He sighed. “All right, Remus. I found an early acceptance letter to SJAU, and... and a ringbox.”

Remus felt his grasp on the phone grow weak. It fell onto the bed, Mr. Sanders’ voice still clear.

“I think he was going to ask for you to....”

“No, we... We were just out of high school, I-- that doesn’t make sense.”

“He always was one for those romantic gestures. There’s some poems here, too. A life-plan. I’m not sure exactly what malacology is, but--”

“Mollusks. Like octopi and squids.. Sorry for cutting you off, what was that?”

“Some of it’s in your handwriting, but one of the entries is ‘ask him’, for the day after... you know.”

God, he could hear his sad smile through the phone. He knew exactly how Mr. Sanders looked right now just talking to him, probably wearing that hoodie that was too big on him, in a dusty room full of things that used to belong to the most vibrant person that Remus had ever met.

But then Roman had died.

He was the most wonderful person, and he had just died.

“I’ll come over to deliver the ring to you. Is that okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s... that’s fine. Uh, call my dads first, though. They’re still not convinced I’m doing okay.”

“I understand. I’ll talk to you later, Remus.”

“Thank you, Mr. Sanders.”

The line went dead in his hands.

Remus held himself and wept.

December 28:

12:30 PM, Remus Picani-Kleitman: Mr. Sanders, would you like to come over for our New Year’s party? 12:34 PM, Remus Picani-Kleitman: It’s a tradition we had. You don’t have to if you’d rather not. 12:45 PM, Virgil Sanders: I’d love to go.

January 1:

12:00 AM: HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!! 12:05 AM: [Attachment: :)] 12:07 AM: we are all smiling in this photo and for that i think we deserve a hug. 12:10 AM: this rings the most beuatifl thing i’ve ever fuckign seen. thank you,, 12:14 AM: never gonna get rid of it <3 12:16 AM: it looks Good on my finger 12:30 AM: jsyk your dad’s asking my dads for the kouign amann recipe 12:32 AM: thats a pastry, i left those for u a while back 12:39 AM: okay i’m crying a bit but honestly, i love u 12:44 AM: I love you so so so much, Roman

Somewhere out there, whether it was from some wonderful paradise or beyond the veil or even only in wishful thoughts, Remus knew that someone was saying I love you too.

#remrom #remrom writing #my fics

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do-ya-hear-that-sound · 5 years

Note

:00 May I submit a request for a beej x male reader?? I need more of those in my life not gonna lie

HELL YEAH YOU CAN

Male!Reader x Beetlejuice headcanons below~

(I’m not sure if this what you wanted, but I did my best!)

It’s 3:23 am, and you have your Ouija board out. It’s Saturday night, you’re alone, and you just finished watching one of those creepy Reddit videos on YouTube about ghost hauntings.

You’ve made less questionable choices than demon summoning at the devil’s hour on less sleep than this, so why not?

It’s not like it’ll actually work anyways.

“Though I know I should be wary, I find myself needing something scary!”

“BEETLEJUICE, BEETLEJUICE, BEETLEJUICE!”

A giant puff of green smoke appears above your bed. You cough and clear the smoke away as best you can, but a deep, menacing chuckle coming from above you makes your blood run cold.

"It's SHOWTIME."

what the fuck

You can only stare up in horror at this demon with green hair and a striped suit that looks like it belongs on a sleazy, used car salesman

The look in his eyes is hungry, a little wild, and definitely excited.

“You’re not the usual kind of stock to call me, are ya stud-muffin? It doesn’t matter. A breather like you can definitely have fun with me.”

He fucking winks at you. Big, saucy, and over-exaggerated, but a wink nonetheless.

Your sleep-deprived brain is still trying to process that a literal fucking demon got summoned in your bedroom... much less one trying to flirt with you

((OH NO. IT'S WORKING))

You pass out on your bed, out of sheer sleep deprivation and the amount of nope your body can process right now

You wake up the next morning, sunlight streaming in from your windows... and a mysterious figure hovering in the corner.

“Well, it’s about time you woke up, hot-stuff.”

Your eyes adjust to the light, and what the fuck he’s still here?!?

“...hello?”

The demon (Beetlejuice?) rolls his eyes and lazily floats over to you, his green hair haloed by the sun shining through the window

((fuck, he's fucking cute, and you wanna run your hands through his hair and make it even messier fuuuuuck))

"Are you allowed to be in the sun?"

He doesn't say a word, but it's clear by the sneer in his upper lip that he's judging you.

"Doesn't it hurt? Being in the sun like that?"

He snorts, amused at your concern: "Wrong franchise, Tiger. I'm a demon, not a fucking vampire."

A beat of silence. You honestly have no fucking clue what to do next.

Eventually, you climb out of bed and ask him, "Do you want some pancakes?"

It's his turn to be confused now.

"What?"

You shrug. What else can you do, but go on with your day? "I can let you lick the bowl when I'm done pouring the batter."

The demon stares at you, incredulous. His hair, once green, is now a dark orange.

You make your way over to the kitchen. And eventually, Beetlejuice follows.

"You got a name, sugar-bottom?"

And so, you tell him.

After that, Beetlejuice sticks around. You don't know how to get rid of him, and honestly, you don't really want to.

He flirts with you regularly, and while he’s always got something to say about your ass or how BJ doesn’t just need to be a nickname for him … he doesn’t cross that line of physical touch.

In the end, you’re the one who has to cross that border: a simple hand-touch, and a confession that you’d like to be more than friends. You want to be his boyfriend.

The dam, my dear friend, has been UNLEASHED.

He’s got a hand running up and down your back almost all the time now, his head falling perfectly underneath your chin when you embrace or in the crook of your arm when you are side by side.

He WILL prank you. This is not a threat. It’s a promise.

He scratches the back of your head when he’s being the big spoon. He loves it when you do it to him too-- the cutest green blush will dust all over his face when you do.

Grab both of his biceps, gently but firmly, and look directly into his eyes when he needs reaffirming that you’re his. It will calm him down instantly and the demon will melt on the fucking spot.

(No, literally. He will melt. Go get a mop.)

Hello, self-doubt? New phone, who dis?Your biggest cheerleader in all that you do. He’s too busy complimenting you and showering you with praise for your insecurities to stay in your brain for long periods of time.

You shower him with physical attention, he showers you with verbal attention. This is a win-win scenario.

“Hey, Laurence?”

“Yeah, hot-stuff?”

“I love you.”

The tips of his hair are hot pink, but the rest of his hair is lovely bright green. His teeth are sharp, and you can see them all as he looks back at you, smiling so bright it could put the broadway lights to shame.

“Love you, too babe. I love you too.”

#male!reader x beetlejuice #beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice fanfiction #beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice #mah posts

166 notes · View notes

imaginingsoftly · 5 years

Text

It Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time Pt 4 - Morgan Rielly

Type: roommates to lovers, Y/N insert shorts

Requested: No

Warnings: none

(Y/N = Your name, no POV change this chapter. It’s all in Morgan’s POV)

A/N: this is mostly just fluff, but very happy stuff, a lot lighter than the last chapter.

More than anything, Morgan regretted falling asleep on the ride home. That first week living with Y/N had left him with more questions than answers about his new roommate, and the guys were never any help. It was a constant stream of “that’s just Y/N” or “yeah she does that sometimes”, without any real explanation as to why. She was always working, even when she was at home. The three bags that she lugged to and from the school with her every day had appeared to weigh her down significantly, but now he was wondering if it was just the stress of worrying about the kids.

He was ashamed to admit that he had never really thought of teaching as a stressful profession; going to school 5 days a week from 7-3 didn’t seem that hard until he saw just how much Y/N was doing when she wasn’t at the school. Every night she sat on the floor of the living room for hours, baseball turned on in the background as she created things for her classroom or weeded through forms and papers he didn’t think could understand even if she tried to explain them. He had asked once what she was doing, but she’d used so many acronyms in the span of one sentence that he was afraid to ask her to explain what they meant.

Those few hours on the beach really gave him an opportunity to understand where Y/N was coming from, and why it looked like she held the weight of the world on her shoulders. In some ways, he guessed that she kind of did. So yeah, he regretted falling asleep and not getting the chance to ask her for more information.

It was almost noon by the time he managed to get himself out of bed, and he’d only moved because he heard voices from outside, one of which potentially belonged to Hamilton. “It’s been good, Doug,” Y/N was saying as he walked to his bedroom door, “he’s a sweet guy.” He couldn’t hear Hamilton’s quiet response, but he heard Y/N’s next sentence clearly. “I’ve actually been thinking about telling him he could stay for the season if he wants. That way he doesn’t have to worry about moving once you guys really get into the season.” Morgan stopped short of the door. Did she really mean that? It would make his life so much easier, and he hadn’t really been looking very hard for a place either. Hamilton and Y/N turned as Morgan came out of his room, and the first thing that he noticed was how Y/N’s Y/E/C eyes brightened when she saw him. She really did have beautiful eyes.

“Heya, sleepyhead,” she joked with a laugh. “We were just taking bets on if you were gonna sleep all day.” Y/N was sitting on the counter, a large mug of coffee in her hands and her hair loose around her. Doug was leaning on the opposite counter, holding one of the muffins Y/N had made a few days prior in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. “Sup, Mo. I was just telling Y/N that we’re having a little cookout tonight at Svechy’s place as a ‘happy hockey season’ party. You’re both coming, attendance mandatory.” Y/N looked like she was about to protest, but Hamilton held up a hand to stop her. “Kat said you’re coming, no excuses. She also said to make your chili.” Hamilton looked back at Morgan and smiled. “Y/N here apparently makes phenomenal chili, and Kat’s decided that we all need to experience it.”

Y/N jumped off the counter with a sigh. “Well if I’m making chili I need to go grocery shopping. It needs to sit as long as possible, since that asshole didn’t give me enough warning to make it last night.” She stomped into her bedroom, throwing the door shut a little bit dramatically. Both Morgan and Hamilton looked at the door and then each other before bursting into laughter. Hamilton stepped forward, clapping Morgan on the shoulder. “Alright man, I’ll leave you with that mess. See you tonight. 6 o’clock. Y/N knows where to go.” Morgan nodded and fist-bumped his captain. Hamilton let himself out of the apartment, and Morgan went back into his room to get dressed.

By the time he came back out, Y/N was gathering reusable bags and still muttering under her breath. “Can I come with you?” Morgan asked, stepping back into the living room. Y/N turned, and Morgan was pretty sure his jaw dropped. She was wearing a simple little navy dress and her Red Sox hat, a pair of white Converse on her feet, and she looked absolutely incredible. He had never realized how tan she really was, probably from all of her time at the beach, but the tank of the dress really showed it off. “Yeah, sure.” Y/N’s answer snapped him back into reality, and he shook his head as he threw on a pair of sneakers.

Their walk to the farmers market was full of a pointless argument about the best junk food, and Morgan had a feeling he was never going to win this argument. “Chips are nowhere near the best kind of junk food, Morgan, what the fuck?” Y/N looked at him incredulously as they reached a crosswalk, and Morgan stared back at her stubbornly. “Oh, and shitty Dominos pizza is?” he threw back sarcastically. “Yes! Yes shitty pizza is better than chips. Nothing tastes better than shitty pizza when you’ve been eating really healthy.” Y/N gestured with her hands as she spoke, something Morgan was beginning to notice she did a lot. They turned onto the street the farmers market was on, and Morgan forgot his response. The street was bustling, filled with people selling everything from produce to breads to candles and flowers. Y/N headed straight for a vegetable truck with purpose, and Morgan followed close behind her.

“Ms. Y/N!” The owner shouted as they walked up, “How are you, honey?” The man was old, his hands tan and spotted from years in the sun, and his accent was thick. Morgan liked him immediately. “Hello, Mr. Mason. I’m good, how are you today?” Mason grinned at Y/N and grabbed her hands, squeezing them gently. “I’m great now that my favorite customer is back. What can I get for you today?” Y/N reached into her bag and pulled out a mesh produce bag. “I need a whole bunch of peppers today. What have you got for me?” Morgan followed behind the pair as they began surveying his produce, smiling back at the older man when he looked back at Morgan. “I have some bell peppers, jalapenos, anaheims, and poblanos. Would those work?” Y/N nodded enthusiastically. “Those are perfect, actually! I’m making chili, and those are all the peppers I would normally use.” She gathered up a few of each pepper, and walked with Mason to check out. Morgan continued to follow, and jumped when Mason addressed him suddenly.

“I hope you’re treating my girl right, son. She’s a good one.” Y/N’s face was priceless when she registered what the older man had said, and she jumped in before Morgan could respond. “Oh, no, Morgan and I are just friends. He’s a teammate of Kat’s boyfriend. Do you remember Kat? My old roommate?” Mason nodded, clearly remembering the feisty girl that used to be by Y/N’s side every weekend. “Yes, I remember her. Tell her I’m upset she hasn’t come by for my strawberries lately, will you honey?” Y/N grinned at the man, and Morgan caught himself staring at her again. It was becoming a problem, but he couldn’t help it. When she smiled, it seemed like the whole world brightened for a little while. It was one of those smiles that was totally infectious. He was brought back to earth when Mason was waving at him, telling the pair to come again soon. Morgan managed some kind of goodbye, and then they were walking again.

They didn’t turn back in the direction of the apartment, and they didn’t speak again until Y/N stopped outside Raleigh Provisions. “So I need to run inside the grocery store and buy some crushed tomatoes and other ingredients I couldn’t get at the market. Would you mind waiting outside with the peppers while I run in?” Morgan nodded, and Y/N was heading inside the store before his next breath. She was back outside quickly, carrying another one of her reusable bags. “Thanks,” she said, taking her peppers back, “I wouldn’t normally stop in there, because it’s a lot more expensive than going to Target or even Harris Teeter, but I needed to get this stuff quickly. Part of the tastiness of chili is having it sit for a long time, and 4 hours is not nearly enough time.” They began walking in the direction of the apartment again, and Morgan took a second to appreciate the pleasantness of the day.

“So what should I expect of the cookout tonight?” he asked Y/N. She shrugged. “They’re pretty chill, generally. The guys with kids will usually bring them, and babies will be passed around until they get fussy. Svechy will get the younger kids really riled up, and someone will inevitably get pranked by him and his small army of hellions. Kat will probably get the fire pit in the backyard going, so we’ll have a fire to roast marshmallows in and stuff, someone will probably break out a guitar when everyone gets drunk enough, one of the guys will throw somebody into the pool and then everyone will be jumping in. The usual kind of stuff.” Morgan had to admit that it sounded really nice. Family-like even. “Yeah, it is kinda a family type of atmosphere.” Oops. “Did I say that out loud?” Y/N laughed. “Yeah, you did.” She touched his arm gently. “It’ll be nice. I’m sure it’s been stressful to start with a new team so close to the season, but these guys are great. Don’t be a dickhead, and you’ll fit in fine.” Morgan barked out a laugh at the last sentence, and Y/N joined him pretty quickly.

He threw an arm around her shoulders as they continued walking, squeezing lightly. “Thanks for being an impromptu hype man, Red Sox.” Y/N elbowed his side gently. “Red Sox?” He nodded. “I haven’t seen you without that hat for more than like 5 minutes since we met. It’s a fitting nickname.” She laughed, nodding. “I’m not questioning the nickname, I was just curious about where it came from.”

They reached their building as she spoke, and even Morgan’s athletic legs had trouble keeping up with Y/N’s shorter ones as she practically sprinted up the seven flights of stairs to the apartment. He was practically doubled over as she unlocked the door, and he almost collapsed onto the couch as she made her way into the kitchen almost unbothered. “How?” he wheezed at her. “I skate and exercise for a living and I’m dying.” Y/N turned to face him, and he noticed that she was indeed breathing a little heavier than usual. “I’m just wicked out of shape. I’m used to being out of breath. It doesn’t really bother me that much anymore.” Morgan groaned, laying his head back on the cushions. Y/N’s cat Bogey hopped onto his chest, purring loudly and nuzzling his chest.

“So I have to ask, Red Sox, why Bogey? It’s a strange name for a cat.” Y/N laughed as she continued to pull out everything she needed to cook. “His name is actually Bogaerts. He’s named after Xander Bogaerts, the Red Sox’ shortstop.” She began washing the peppers, throwing them all into a colander before pulling out a knife and cutting board. “He’s one of my favorite Red Sox players. Just a good dude. Also,” she gestured with her knife, “it’s a great name for a cat.” Morgan stared at Y/N as she cooked. She had turned on some music, some kind of old shit his grandparents would probably listen to, and she was dancing around the kitchen as she prepped. Bogey settled onto his chest, shoving his head into the crook of Morgan’s neck with another round of purrs.

Morgan woke up to Y/N shaking his shoulder. “Hey bud, you might wanna wake up and get ready to go. We’ve gotta leave in ten.” Bogey was no longer settled on his chest, and the chili Y/N had apparently finished while he was sleeping made the entire apartment smell fantastic. “Sorry I passed out on you. I don’t know what happened.” Y/N backed away when she noticed that he was awake, smiling gently. “It probably has something to do with me keeping you up all night, dude. Most people aren’t built to stay up all night.” Morgan stood with a groan, and felt his joints pop as he stretched. That was gonna feel awesome tomorrow. He took a second to look at Y/N, and realized that she had already changed, though it appeared all she had done was put on a bathing suit underneath her dress and exchanged her sneakers for flip flops. “Wear a bathing suit. You’ll regret it if you don’t.” With that Y/N turned, heading into the kitchen presumably to prepare the chili for transport.

Once Morgan was changed and Y/N deemed the chili ready for the drive they headed down to Y/N’s car. Morgan was put in charge of holding the chili, a responsibility he didn’t take lightly. Y/N would probably kill him if he spilled any of it. The trip to Svech and Kat’s house took almost half an hour. They lived outside the city, in a neighborhood full of very cookie-cutter houses. Y/N noticed Morgan looking, and spoke up before he could ask. “Most neighborhoods down here are like this. I don’t know why, but the whole same-house-different-colors aesthetic is very popular for neighborhoods down here. I grew up in one.” So that answered that question, then. “I prefer the older neighborhoods. Most of the houses are fixer-uppers now, but I’d rather fix up an old house than live in one of these. They aren’t built very well.”

They pulled up to Svech and Kat’s house as Y/N spoke, and it unsurprisingly looked just like the others. It was slate gray, with white trimming and a lawn that was way too well-manicured for them to be the ones taking care of it. There was a lot of noise coming from the backyard, and Y/N made a beeline for a door in the fence on the side of the house. She had taken the chili from Morgan, so he hurried forward to open the door for her. They were met with kids yelling and adults calling hello, and several very wet noses being shoved into his thighs. Morgan looked down to see three dogs staring up at him, two labs and a german shepard. Their tails were smacking into each other and the fence, and Y/N laughed as she shoved past them. “Jax! Kip! Mel! No!” A small blonde came hurrying over, yanking them back to help Y/N get the chili clear of death by puppies. Kat smiled up at Morgan, nodding her head in the direction of the guys. “They’ve been waiting for you. I think Doug has a beer with your name on it.” Morgan thanked her, heading over the where Hamilton and Svech were arguing about something.

“No, you idiot, dodgeball was definitely our best.” Hamilton snorted at the younger boy as he spoke, shaking his head vehemently. “The basketball one was the best for sure. I mean seriously buddy, we’re in the college basketball capital of America. Nowhere loves college basketball like Raleigh.” The other guys were shaking their heads at the two, though some were definitely egging them on with other suggestions. Morgan was sucked into the conversation effortlessly, giving his own input without another thought. “I’m gonna have to side with the kid here, captain. The dodgeball one was pretty ingenious.” Hamilton groaned, punching him on the shoulder good-naturedly. “I thought D-partners were supposed to stick together, Mo?” He clutched his chest jokingly. “I’m gonna have to ask Rod to separate us if I can’t trust you.” The other guys laughed, and it felt good to be sucked into the ebb and flow of the conversation so easily. He didn’t feel new; it honestly felt like he was sitting around with Brownie and Fred and the other guys that he’d known for years.

They talked for hours, and everything that Y/N had said would happen did. People began filtering out around ten, especially those with younger kids or kids who were at home with sitters. By the time the night ended, him and Y/N were the only ones left besides Kat and Svech. Y/N was sitting on Morgan’s shoulders while they battled with Kat and Svech in a game of chicken in the pool, a game in which him and Y/N were dominating. “You know,” Y/N said as she climbed onto his shoulders for another round, “if you pull something holding my ass up I’m not taking the fall for you when Rod goes postal.” Morgan pinched her calf. “Sweetheart you aren’t heavy enough for me to pull anything.” He jumped a few times for proof, and she threw her hands onto his chest in a panic. “Don’t do that!” Morgan laughed, throwing his head back to rest against her stomach. “Told you you weren’t too heavy.”

“Are you two gonna keep flirting all night, or are we gonna play?” Kat was smirking from her perch on Svech’s shoulders, and Morgan wasn’t sure who started stumbling through their words faster, him or Y/N. Kat just lifted an eyebrow and gestured Morgan forward wordlessly. Him and Y/N won that round, and the round after that, and then the last one as well before Kat finally announced that the boys had to travel the next day and they should all really get to sleep. She refused Y/N’s multiple offers to help clean up, and him and Y/N were quickly in her car to drive home, the now-empty pot of chili sitting on the floor at Morgan’s feet. Y/N turned on some kind of musical, blasting the sound way too loud as they began to drive. It took Morgan a second, but then the music sounded familiar. “Is this that Disney movie?” he yelled over the music. “The one with the troll or whatever?” Y/N turned down the song to look at him incredulously. “This is the Hunchback of Notre Dame! He is most definitely not a troll.” She gave Morgan another look before turning her eyes back to the road.

“They made this album when they wanted to take it to broadway. They had the cast recording done and everything, when Disney told them they weren’t going to give them enough of a budget to have a full choir. You can’t have music with Catholic choir influences like Hunchback does and not have a full choir, so they nixed the plans, but we still have the cast recording. It’s incredible.”

Morgan had to admit that it really was beautiful music, especially with the car stereo Y/N had. They listened to several of the songs as they drove, and Y/N pointed out the different parts that she particularly enjoyed. She sang along badly to every song, and nightly unforgettable car rides were quickly becoming a staple of Morgan’s life in Raleigh.

If the entire season was like this, then maybe everything would be okay.

#NHL Imagine #good idea ml #nhl imagines #morgan rielly imagine

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maggyme13 · 5 years

Text

Sugar (Prolog)

AN: Just as threatened: Here is the Prolog to my SugarDaddy!Loki x Reader AU.

This story will include all different kinds of stuff that are inproriate for readers under 18.

NO MINORS ALLOWED

*Thoughts*

Warnings: Swearwords

Masterlist

Sugar-Masterlist

___

„Come on Rose. I am moving in tomorrow!”, you groaned, not really enjoying the idea your best friend had.

“And it is my last day visiting you. Lets have some fun!”, your black haired friend laughed, handing you the next cocktail.

“Fiiiiine, but just for the protocol: I was against it!”, you laughed accepting the drink.

“Protocol signed, now drink!”, Rose laughed, chinking her glass to yours.

“Yeah yeah. Love you, too.”, you shook your head.

You were simply enjoying your night out with your best friend, when your eyes found an your known person: Leon, your boyfriend. And he was kissing with a blond girl you did not know.

WTF

“Rose, do you mind watching my drink for a second?”, you mumbled with your eyes cast on the one man you loved and had planned to move in with the next day.

“Sure, I will stay here.”, she smiled, thinking you wanted to go to the toilet or something.

“Thanks.”

Weaving your way through the dancing crowed towards your target.

“Leon? What is going on here?”, you asked him once you had reached him.

“Oh, (y/n). I kind of forgot to mention, but- I don´t like you anymore. This is Sarah (please insert other name here, if your name is Sarah- and let me know just out of curiosity), my new Girlfriend. Well, see ya when I see ya.”, and with that they disappeared into the mass of people; you to shocked to follow.

What the heck did just happen?

___

It was late in the afternoon of the following day. You and Rose had left shortly after, you telling her you really weren´t feeling well; not wanting for her to feels sorry about you.

The shift at the diner you work at as a waitress was calm, and you had just served two tall and very trained guys (you assumed former military) their coffees and some pie at their table, when the door opened and three masked men entered guns in hand.

“HAND ME ALL THE MONEY OR I WILL SHOOT!”

Silence. Shocked silence. No one moved, except the robbers.

“WE SAID ALL THE MONEY!”, the first one shouted again and aimed his gun at you.

“Of-Of course, please give me a second. I just have to get behind the counter again.”, you quivered in fear and hurried back behind the counter. All the while stumbling over a chair and almost toppling over.

That would leave a bruise, but you did not care at that moment. You were more concerned about your safety and those of your guests.

“Then HURRY UP bitch.”, he sneered again, shoving you forward once you walked past him.

“Of course. Here- this is everything that is in the till at the moment.”, you told him, handing over the money of the last two hours that were in the till.

The rest of the money was already in the safe.

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME? THAT´S NOT EVERYTHING!”, the burglar shouted in anger.

“It is. My boss took the money from the first shift already to the bank. I am sorry, this is all we have.”, you explained with fear in your voice.

“SHUT UP!”

Shutting up

“FUCK! Alright, Bitch, we leaving. Lucky day. But for our trouble, put those muffins in the bag as well.”, he ordered, only for the three of them to leave once their leader had the bag filled with money and food.

What the fuck just happened? This week sucks big time.

“Hay, you alright?”, one of the muscular men asked you, but his voice was far away and you could not understand what he said. You only saw his broad chest.

“Are you alright? Police are on their way, as well as EMTs. Hay, look at me- you did everything right.”, it was the other man and you finally looked up. The black man was smiling down on you with a reassuring smile.

You just wanted to answer, when the door opened and police entered. They at once started asking questions on what happened.

A young female officer was just interrogating you with an older gentleman, when your boss screeched into the diner.

“WHAT HAPPENED HERE? YOU INSOLENT STUPID GIRL! GET OUT! YOU ARE FIRED!”, she screamed at you. Not caring that you had been held on gunpoint or that the police stood right next to you.

“Bu-”

“I don´t give a flying fuck. Anyone who hands out our money is poison to this diner. Leave!”, she growled and you hung your head.

“Yes, Ma´m.”

“Good.”

At once, tears streamed down your face and sobbed. Now you were unemployed and homeless; with the last money spend to store your belongings inside a storing unit for two months.

The lease to your flat had out; you had planned to move in with your now ex boyfriend , but that went out of the window the evening prior and you had nothing.

With all questions answered, you were excused and free to go, you were left with the dilemma of where to stay with time being.

Maybe Monty and Bob got an idea.

With heavy eyes and tired bones, you made your way to the park that laid on your former way to work. Usually you would take leftovers, and gift them to the homeless living there.

___

Bob and Monty had been kind enough to let you stay with them for the last week, though they kept stating that the street were no place for a young woman as you were. Not that you did not know that, but with no other choice, you had to.

The three of you were sitting at their usual spot, when you noticed two large men approach. They looked rather familiar from the distance and once they came closer, you noticed them to be the men from the incident.

Great. They will either be full of pity or assholes. Can they just pass?

“Good morning gentleman . What brings you to our humble place at the park? Is it because fo our lovely young friend here? She recently became single and yould do with a fine man that treats her right. Not to mention you two look like yu would be able to get her out of this awful place.”, Monty greeted them and you paled in shock and embarrassment.

“MONTY!”, you shrieked.

“He is right. The night are getting colder, and these lads seem alright. Two old street guys know how to judge people. Trust us.”, Bob chimed in.

“BOB!”, you wanted to hide, “Maybe that is true. But it is none of their business. You don´t even know them. I am sorry. Please ignore what they said.”, the last part was directed at the two newcomers.

“Wait, does that mean you are living on the streets?”, the dark skinned man frowned and Monty answered for you.

“For a week now. She lost her job and had no place to stay because of the dick that is her Ex.”

“We are sorry.”, the other piped up,” if we had done anything you might have been able to keep your job.”

“Still wouldn´t have a home.”, you mumbled.

“Well, now that this is settled. See you around (y/n) and don´t do anything we wouldn´t do.”, Monty called out and within a few seconds the two men were gone, leaving you with the strangers.

This is not happening right now, is it?

“Looks like you are stuck with us now. Come on, we are just on our way to grab some food and drinks. Name is Sam by the way.”, Sam grinned and you frowned.

“I don´t want your pity money.”

“It´s no pity money. I just want to treat a beautiful woman to some food and drinks.

“Then I want it even less. I am not here for your amusement.”

“That wasn´t my intention, I swear. You seem nice and I like meeting new people. Maybe we can help you out.”, he sighted.

“You know someone who rents out rooms to homeless with no income?”, you dryly joked.

“Maybe, you will have to come with us to figure out.”, he grinned.

“I don´t want to go anywhere. I feel dirty.”, you mumbled, slightly ashamed of your current state.

“Then tell us what you want and we can sit down at some bench or something.”

“You won´t drop it, do you?”. You groaned

“Nope, and neither is Bucky over there.”, he answered.

“Fine. A hot chocolate would be nice.”

“Coming right up.”

The three of you sat back down on a park bench.

“About that room. It´s not like you asked, but, we have a few empty rooms you could crash in.”, Bucky suddenly stated.

“I don´t want pity.”, you flinched.

“Take it as help to get back on your feet. You can pay rent once you have a new job.”

“What about food?”

“Well, our Boss pays for everything. I don´t think that bit you eat won´t be noticed.”, Bucky tried to assure you with a shrug.

“Who says I can trust you?”, you squinted with a questioning gaze.

“You can call whoever you want and leave the address and our names with that person. And you can leave any second.”

Taking in a deep breath you thought for a moment.

“Thank you,”, you finally answered, “I – I appreciate it. But I will do something in return. Helping with the household or something.”

“Accepted. Come on, we will get a cab.”

The car stopped in front of a skyscraper and your eyes turned huge in awe.

“You live here? What are you working?”

“We are Bouncers. But our boss wants to have everyone important close, so he bought a few floors where we all life.”, Sam explained, holding the door open for you.

“You said it is your appartment. Don´t I need his permission as well?”, you panicked.

“Maybe. But he is on a business-trip at the moment. We will just ask him, once he is back.”, this time it was Bucky´s time to shrug.

“Hey, don´t worry. He won´t kick you out. Now let´s get up so you can settle in and take a shower and or bath. Sleep in a warm bed and eat stuff. “, Sam grunted reassuringly and nodded towards the entrance to the lobby.

What am I doing here? I don´t even know them. But better than dying on the streets I assume.

The Lobby was lavishing and you earned a few stares.

A hotel was also located in the tower.

“This elevator is just for the inhabitants and not the hotel guests. We will get you a keycard someday. Now let´s get up.”

“Thank you.”, you breathed and the doors closed.

Part 1

AN2.0:

So, what do you think of this first part? And are you ready for Loki to show up in the next one?

Let me know what you think and please REBLOG!

Thank you very much.

Taglists:

Permanent:

@jadepc@pacifyhxlsey

@thankyoukarenclifford

@thankyouforanonymity @punkrockhufflefluff

@scarletraine

@ambrosialyn

@markusstraya

@graveyard-groupie

@buckycaptspideypool

@markusstrayya @randomgirlkensy @the-soulofdevil

MCU:

@yknott81 @banner-and-bucky-are-life @forext20 @dyanlzbb @so-finster-die-nacht @emmii4 @caplansteverogers @bitchwhytho @ladyofmyst @jilldsumner @momc95 @appreciating-fanfics

Sugar:

@bits-and-bobs-and-kawaii-stuffs @mimmie666 @fullranchwolfoperator

@cluelessnitwhit @youknowitsclouds @his-paradox @purplerainharry

@spootgaai2000

Want to get tagged as well? Comment, Reblog or send an ask to let me know.

#Sugar #Loki x Reader #sugardaddy!loki #sugardaddy loki x reader #prolog #mcu #bucky #sam

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the-fiction-witch · 4 years

Text

Apologize P6

REAL LIFE: COUPLE: TBS X READER RATING: SMUT

Once we got to mine we had some simple dinner and went up to my room playing old video games for a while, "Hey Uhhh Y/n, I've been thinking about what you said the other day" he says as I was playing a rather puzzling Lara croft level while Thomas sat beside me his arm around my back "What did I say the other day?" I asked "You know the day you let me Uhhh... Touch your-" he blushed looking at my chest "you know" "Want to again? You don't have to ask Thomas you can just do it" I laughed "Well... Later sugar, actually I've been thinking about what you said about you not being comfortable with me touching your...area?" "Umm?" I asked pausing the game "Look it's just an idea tell me to shut up but it though maybe we could maybe if we wanted to do something physical other then making out and me getting to feel your boobs maybe we could just cuddle up and .. touch ourselves" he suggested "How would that work?" I asked "Well we would lay down together" he smirked pulling me gently to lay down on my back with him next to me "and maybe cuddle up or start kissing and... Just play with ourselves that way I'm not touching you but we can still do stuff" he explained "I don't know how too" I whispered "Y-you what?" He laughs "I don't know how" I blushed "You don't know how to...play with yourself?" And I shook my head "aww that's so sweet, and kinda sad, so you've never in your life had an orgasum?" "No' I blushed "Oh you poor thing" he says giving me a kiss "I could always teach you?" "How would you know about girl stuff?" I asked "I'll admit, I've watched alot of porn" he says

"Im not sure, I mean Im okay with just making you feel happy and good, I can go without an orgasum"

"No becuase then i feel like a dick Y/n, its not fair I get one and you don't?"

"but whats so good about one anyway? Im okay" I shrug

"what so- my god you can tell you've never had one" he laughs "They feel amazing like the best feeling in the known universe okay, and if Im going to have one I want you too aswell"

Not long after we where laid out bodies under my duvet, in our underwear gasping for air both of us overwhelmed and exaughted "Fuck..." He said between breaths "fucking hell that was... Just fuck" he muttered "Was it-" I began "oh fuck you don't even need to ask sugar" he says "fuck that was good Y/n." He smirked "what about you? Was it okay?" "Very good" I smiled nuzzling close to him "again?' I giggled after a little while once we got our breath back "Again? It's addictive isn't it?" He laughs and I nodded "you really wanna go again?" "Very much" I giggled "Humm okay come on sugar' he smirked pulling me back to kissing him... I humming my little tune as I listened to my headphones while I read my book, it was the last day for this year of college and I was thrilled all my grades perfect for my next year so I had little to do until suddenly my book was thrown from my hand across the room hands on my waist and lips on mine. I considered screaming, biting this person, kicking them like crazy before I realized who the familiar lips belonged too as he pulled away "Hi Thomas" I laughed "Hi Y/n, guess what!" He said excitedly "What?" I laughed "I passed! Top of my class" "Aww well done Thomas" I laughed "can I have my book back?" I asked "Ohh yeah sorry" he blushed going and fetching my book bringing it back for me "aren't you happy?' "Of course I am, but I knew you'd pass Thomas" I smiled giving his cheek a kiss making him blush a little more "You ready to head home?" He asks and I nodded so we gathered our stuff and went out to his car driving down the sunny roads "So I have this awesome plan for his next week" he smirked "Ohh do you?" I laughed "Don't judge till you hear my amazing plans" "Go on" "Right, this week to celebrate our end of our first year of college we are going on an adventure" "Right?' "We are going camping" he says "our own little tent, all by ourselves, all week" "Why do I think you didn't come up with this?' I laughed "Okay... You got me." He sighed as he drove "Dan did, him and Mark are going camping together and... I thought it sounded like a good idea" "And?" "And my dad will throw a fit if they go on there own..." "So Dan and mark are coming with us?' I laughed "Well yeah but they will have there own tent and be like away from us. So you gonna come?" "Sure" I laughed "Yes, that my girl" he smiled kissing my hand "so pack your bag but not to much okay sugar it's a week but we only have a little tent" he says as we parked up by my house and headed up to my room "I have my own single airbed if you want? I can bring it with me" I said as I sat on my bed "Well Uhhh u don't really think our tent with have room for two singles sugar..." He explained sitting with me "I was kinda thinking we could uhh maybe just rough it on a nice double airbed?" He smirked giving my neck tickly kissed "Ahh Thomas" I giggled pushing him away "why do I think your using this as an excuse to share a bed for a week?" "I'm not using it as an excuse Y/n it's just that... Dan and mark will get to snuggle up all week, if I'm going to be away on some seaside holiday with my brother and his boyfriend in some tiny little tent... Least I can get out of it is a snuggle with my girlfriend" I couldn't help but blush hearing that word "What?" He laughs "why are you going all red sugar?" He laughs "You've not called me that before" I laughed "Called you what?" "Your girlfriend" I blushed "Haven't I? Could have sworn I have" he says "Once... While beating up Daniel" "See I have" "I kinda assumed you just kinda said that... If nothing else but for simplicity, that's my girlfriend sounds alot more powerful in a argument then thats the girl I'm seeing" I explain "Your right' he laughs "but I do think of you as my girlfriend Y/n, unless... Your not okay with that?' "No, more then okay" I smiled giving him a kiss .

I packed my suitcase as tightly as I could having to sit on it to get the zip to close having another extra bag of stuff that wouldn't fit, it's hard to fit a week of stuff in one bag, as soon as it got it all together mostly having packed dresses and such I did my make up and headed down to the little house seeing Thomass car parked on the drive as him and Dan tried desperately to for everything in, I suddenly felt even worse for my suitcase of clothes when mark who was sat on the bonnet saw me and waved "Morning Y/n" he smiled "Ohh hey Y/n" Dan waved from inside the boot as he had climbed inside in an attempt to organise it "Ahh Y/n your here sugar" Thomas smiled as he abandoned his brother and gave me a hug "Who's this?" A stern voice asked I looked and saw Thomas and moms dad looking as angry as usual "Y/n dad, you've met her before" Thomas sighed holding my hand "Have I?" "Briefly met her before" he corrected "Y/n his is my dad, dad this is Y/n... My girlfriend" "Just hurry up" his dad sighed before going in the house I went over to help Dan but he looked so defeated as he saw my suitcase "Four people going camping for a week, can't fit in a fucking Corsa!" He complained "Sorry" "It's not your fault Y/n, it wouldn't be so bad if somebody wasn't taking three different outfit options for each day" "I like choice" mark complained "And if someone else wasn't taking six boxes of condoms!" "Dan shut up, there for everyone' Thomas complained "We don't use them, neither of us can get pregnant, six boxes, six boxes of twelve condoms... That is seventy two condoms! How much sex are you planning to be having?" Dan complained "You guys should use condoms" I said "there not just for pregnancy, they help stop the spread of STI's and STD's" "Really?" Mark asked "Yeah... Wasn't this covered in health class?" "Ohh honey we didn't even get straight sex advice let alone info for us" Dan answered "That's shit" Thomas said "Indeed it is" Dan laughed as by some miracle we got it all to fit in the car with a little overhang into the back footwells I honestly wouldn't have been suprised if when we got there we opened the boot and everything explodes out and we all got in opening our windows and starting playing some CDs "We ready?" Thomas asks "Yeah!" We all yelled "Right let's get going then" Thomas smiled as he started up "and we will stop for hash browns and egg muffins" "Yay!!!!" I sat in the car watching as Thomas and Dan put up the tents on this little Mablethorpe campsite Dan and marks tent was orange and me and Thomas's was blue, our windbreaks around our little tents, even if our tents are far enough apart we wouldn't hear each other our campfire set up in the middle, I sat in the passenger seat as Mark sat in the back seat having a cigarette

"Hey guys we're already" Dan yelled so I got out starting to sort out my stuff crawling into the little tent to sort out, as soon as I got in I noticed the space for all the stuff and the sleeping compartment so I put all the stuff in from the car and I unzipped the sleeping compartment to put my stuff in but there was only one kingsized airbed where Thomas laid over the duvet on his stomach his head on his hand

"Hi Honey" He smirked

"Hi Thomas" I smiled

"Soooo... You wanna come snuggle in bed with me Y/n?" He asks

"Well I don't have much of a choice" I laughed "Either that or bunk with Dan and mark, and I have a feeling they don't want me in there tent

"Don't worry I'll keep you nice and warm" he smiles grabbing my waist and pulling me on top of him I laughed and tried pushing him away both of us bouncing around on the airbed giggling like crazy.

We spent most of that first-day unpacking and setting everything up till it began to get dark so we sat around our little campfire roasting some marshmallows

"Hey, Y/n? You ready to get to bed?" Thomas asks

"Sure" I smiled

"Okay night guys," Thomas told them

"Goodnight boys" I smiled giving them a little wave as I unzipped the tent and climbed in instantly going off into the sleeping compartment Thomas climbing in behind me zipping the tent up behind us

"So... how about we have a little snuggle before bedtime?" Thomas smiled as he got changed outside the sleeping compartment while I got into my nightie

"I'm not sure Thomas, all this sea air has made me very sleepy" I admit

"Awwww... Okay, Y/n" He laughed tapping on the sleeping compartment door "Can I come in?"

"Give me a sec," I told him as I quickly got sorted and got into bed under the covers reading my book "Okay you can come in Thomas"

"Thanks, Y/n" He smiled coming in and zipping the bedroom door space as he climbed into bed with me getting under the covers with me in his loose-fitting grey shirt and his blue shorts "So... can I have a cuddle?" he asks

"Okay" I smiled putting my book down and laying my head on his chest it was nice and cosy, his heartbeat calm and sweet

"Y/n?" He said after a while as his hand started playing with my hair

"What is it Thomas?" I yawned

"I love you," He says

"what?" I asked sitting up a little, the twilight outside in the sky, the campsite light still on with the light coming in shining a blue-hued light across his face as he laid under the purple striped duvet on the slightly bouncy airbed

"I said I love you, Y/n," He says "it's okay... I understand Y/n, after everything I understand you're probably not ready to be like that with me" He says

"Thomas, I love you too," I told him giving his lips a gentle kiss

"Ummm... I love you so much Y/n, My beautiful girlfriend"

"Aww I love you too Thomas, you're a good boyfriend" I smiled snuggling back with him closely

"Thomas?" I asked

"Yeah Y/n?"

"Tell me again" I giggled

"umm I love you honey" He smiled giving my head a kiss

"Again?" I giggled

#tbs #tbs sex #tbs smut #tbs spy #tbs smutty #thomas #thomas sangster #thomas brodie sangster #thomassangster #thomasbrodiesangster #thomas sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster i #thomas brodie sangster smut #thomas brodie sangster im #thomas sangster smut #thomas smut #thomas sangster x reader #thomas sangser imagine

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ddagent · 5 years

Note

I'm begging you, and holding out a basket of your favorite kind of muffins, please, oh please, some words on "The Billboard".

*noms* I do like a chocolate chip muffin. I hope you like this!

“So, what do you think?”

Brienne stared up at the billboard in sheer horror. Eyes wide, jaw slack, fingers digging into Margaery’s upper arm. “You said you just wanted to see how it looked on a model of my height!”

“And I did! And you look incredible.”

It was clear that Brienne would get neither sense, nor an apology, from Margaery Tyrell. All she could do was stand, and stare, at the larger than life image of herself. Pale white skin marred by a multitude of freckles. Unkempt strands of white-blonde hair and watery blue eyes. The corset Margaery had designed for her company, Golden Rose Lingerie, that she thought would suit Brienne’s figure. After Loras had taken a few shots (and Brienne had taken a few shots), she’d even started to feel comfortable.

Now Brienne felt anything but.

“You should have asked me, Margaery.” She ran a hand over her face. “There’s people on the street; there are offices everywhere. For Seven’s sake, the Lannister Holdings building is right there!” Brienne felt so sorry for the poor executive who opened his blinds and was faced with her in lingerie.

But before she could beg Margaery to have the billboard removed, Brienne saw movement across the street. A man bumped into two others; one around Brienne’s height, another much shorter. The two men continued onwards; the other man heading her way. In his hands was a wallet. He opened it and began stuffing the dragon notes and credit cards into his pockets.

“HEY!”

Brienne’s shout startled him. He started sprinting; she pursued. The man ducked into an underground tunnel but, just before he ducked out of sight, threw the wallet he had stolen behind him. She lost the thief in the crowd of people and, with a frustrated sigh, gave up the chase. Brienne picked up the wallet from the ground and noticed there was nothing left inside. Not even any ID.

Margaery caught up with her. “No luck?”

“Cleaned out.” Brienne checked the card slots; the section for notes. Then, in a zipped compartment, she found something. “Hang on.”

It was a photograph. Faded with time; creased along the middle. A man, around Brienne’s age. Dark-blonde hair fell across his face and brushed the firm length of his shoulders. Emerald eyes and a jaw so sharp Brienne was afraid of running her fingers across even the photograph. His smile made her stomach flutter. He was the most gorgeous man Brienne had ever seen. He belonged on the billboard, not her.

On the back of the photograph, in neat print, were the words golden lion.

“Do you think that’s the owner?” Margaery asked. “If so, I volunteer to return it.”

Brienne barked out a laugh. “Who keeps a picture of themselves in their own wallet? It’s a brother, maybe; probably a boyfriend.”

That would be just like her, to find herself attracted to another unobtainable man. The golden lion was probably the place where this picture was taken; some trendy bar or resort where the couple retreated so as to get away from their hectic lives. For a moment, though, Brienne imagined it was this man’s nickname; stolen from one of the names of the Goldenhand the Just, one of Brienne’s favourite historical figures. He loved the old stories, this golden man, and would relish being taken on an after-hours tour of her museum. His hair would be soft as she ran her fingers through it; Brienne unafraid to touch, and tease.

“Well, you tried.”

“Hmm?” Brienne looked up from the photograph in her hand. “Oh, yeah. I’ll toss the wallet. Nothing in there, now, anyway.”

When Margaery wasn’t looking, she pocketed the photograph. It just…didn’t feel right to throw it away. That was all.

#braime #jaime x brienne #anonymous #mine: paragraph prompts #ship: braime #I think this one might be told entirely in prompts at this rate #fic: billboard verse

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thegayagenda-forkids · 5 years

Text

T.J. Goodman and Cyrus Kippen

AO3 Link

Sequel

“I have no idea if this is the cutest or the dorkiest couple outfit you two could have come up with,” Buffy said, adjusting her red and gold tie.

“Says Hermione Granger,” Cyrus retorted, gelling up his hair, frowning as he tried to get it to look *just* right. “You got the flashcards, right?”

“I did,” Buffy said cautiously. “And I think T.J. is going to flip when he sees all of this effort you put in.”

“Of course he put in all this effort,” Andi said, straightening out her bow tie. “Besides, I think I win at the nerdiest outfit.”

Both of her friends groaned. “It doesn’t count if you’re going as an actual nerd!” Cyrus said. “And I still can’t believe I lent you my old glasses for this.”

“You don’t even use them anymore because the prescription is out of date,” she argued back. “Besides, look who’s talking about borrowing clothing items.”

“This is different,” he said as a matter of fact.

“Why is it different?”

“Because...this is the only way to sell it...Besides, my outfit belongs to Buffy.”

“And you can keep it. That is from two basketball teams ago,” she said. Finally Cyrus smiled when he got the hair right and pulled on a zip-up hoodie, leaving it open so that the Jefferson Middle School Basketball jersey underneath was visible.

“Well? Ladies?”

“Whoa…you’re selling it,” Andi said.

“Yup. You look like him.”

Cyrus looked in the mirror and smirked. “I’m no longer Cyrus Goodman. Until Midnight tonight, call me T.J. Kippen.”

______________

Soon there were knocks at the Goodman’s front door. It was the GHC’s dates for the night, and Jonah, all in costume ready to see their other halves. Jonah wore a Shazam costume since everyone said that the actor who played Billy Batson looked like him. He wasn’t really into costumes all that much but they all begged him to the point he felt like a total jerk if he didn’t wear it.

Marty was dressed up like Ron Weasley, so even though he also wore a Gryffindor robe and tie, he swapped out the usual sweater for a burgundy one with a big gold “R” on the font and even found a twig, snapped it, then wrapped an ungodly amount of tape around it. He knew Buffy would commit and stole some of her dad’s old law books to carry around.

Amber wore her cheerleading uniform, but kept her hair down and curled, only putting up a small section into her giant hair bow. Her sneakers were shining white. Her couple outfit with Andi would be the nerd and the cheerleader, but with a gay twist. Instead of fighting for some boy like Taylor Swift’s “You belong with me” video, they were dating each other.

But T.J.’s won out of those guys, and he was excited to see Cyrus’s interpretation. He was dressed up in a patterned button down, had a messenger bag, and even slicked his hair down some. Just in case, he had the old Bar Mitzvah sweatshirt tucked in the bag just in case people didn’t realize what he was doing.

Cyrus’s mom opened the door and T.J. immediately put on his cheesiest smile and went “Hello, hello, hello!”

Mrs. Goodman couldn’t help but start laughing. “Oh my god, I’m not sure if this means you two hang out too much or you two are perfect for each other.”

“Both.” Marty and Amber said together.

“Hey, don’t hate,” he said back to them. “So...where is the wonderful, amazing, puppy-dog of a human being T.J. Kippen?” He joked.

“All three of them are upstairs,” she said. “And I want pictures of you all before you leave for the party!”

They were all headed upstairs and knocked on the bedroom door. Cyrus, dressed as T.J. was the one who opened the door and both boys almost lost composure immediately. They tried not to let it show, but they quickly took a breath and looked looked at each other. “Cyrus, My man,” Cyrus deepened his voice as much as he physically could. “You look Niceberg.”

T.J. had to bite his tongue for a second so that he didn’t laugh and he started talking, getting more and more excited and speaking faster as he did. “Wow Teej, you look absolutely amazing because you are amazing because this is going to be the best Halloween ever and you’re wearing a hoodie that matches your eyes and your jersey which you always look super hot in…”

“Oh my god, what did we sign up for,” Amber groaned and moved past them to go kiss her Nerdy Andi.

“I’m just gonna hang with my totally fly Cy guy,” Cyrus said, pulling a step stool from behind the door and standing on it so he could simulate the reverse of the height difference between the two. Jonah actually broke down laughing at that.

“And I get to be with my super cool, absolutely amazing boyfriend,” T.J. said, looking up at Cyrus. So that’s how it felt for him. T.J. was suddenly very aware of his own height.

“Good god, and I thought we were bad with out-extra-ing each other,” Marty said, putting his arm around Buffy’s shoulders. “Let's get to the party before this they somehow derail everything.”

“How would they even derail it?” Andi asked.

“Sure, act like we aren’t standing in front of you,” T.J. said.

“Do not underestimate my brother’s narcissism,” Amber said. “The sooner we’re out in public, the more guaranteed we are for having the two stay within a PG rating.”

“Hey, just because I can shoot three pointers with ease, or cross the court in seconds flat, doesn’t mean I am so self-absorbed,” Cyrus said, and everyone but Buffy and Andi looked at him in awe.

“What did you say?” Marty asked.

“What? Just tossing out some b-ball lingo. I’m just saying that it doesn’t matter that I truly rock because I can shoot nothing but net from half court, I’m just that amazing of a point guard,” he said. “But I’m an even more amazing boyfriend to my muffin of a man.”

T.J. was staring at him open-mouthed. “H..how?”

Buffy sighed and pulled a twenty dollar bill from her robe pocket. “I regret this so much...you all honestly could not begin to imagine.”

“Now I understand completely,” Marty said. “Come on, we have a party to get to.”

_________________

Everyone piled into the Kippen minivan that Mrs. Kippen allowed them to borrow, with T.J. driving and Cyrus in the passenger seat. “Are you sure you should drive, Underdog?” Cyrus said, back in T.J. mode. “I mean, you did almost fail your driver’s test.”

“I aced the written part and technically passed the driving part by like...a point,” T.J. replied. “I’m sure I’m fine for one night. Besides, your mom thinks I’m a good influence on you.”

“You totally are, you got me to start getting help for math. It was totally Niceburg.”

T.J. hissed under his breath, “I said it that word one time….”

Cyrus smirked at him from the passenger seat.

Marty opened his mouth and Buffy cut him off. “If you say blimey or bloody hell, I’m throwing you out of this car.”

Marty closed his mouth.

“I’m feeling very single right about now,” Jonah said.

“Ironic considering just about everyone attracted to men has had a crush on you,” Buffy said. “Except for me. You were too...swoopy for my type.”

“Swoopy?”

“You know...like Justin Bieber back in the olden days? Swoopy.”

“And now I’m…?”

“Still a little swoopy, but much more human.” Everyone let out noises of agreement.

“Human?” He raised an eyebrow. “Ironic considering I’m dressed like...well…” he swished his Shazam cape.

“Dude, you were above the whole world back in the day,” Cyrus said. “Like some unattainable god! I couldn’t even just say Jonah when I talked to you. I had to say your full name.”

“Wow...so wait...you had a crush on me?” Jonah asked.

“Ladies and gentleman, the most oblivious man on earth,” Marty announced holding his arm out and presenting Jonah. “Raise your hand if you’ve ever been attracted to Jonah Beck.”

Everyone in the car except for Buffy and Marty (and obviously Jonah himself) raised their hands.

“Wait...Andi and Amber I know because I’ve dated both of you on and off...Cyrus...well...yeah I can see that...but...T.J.?”

“Yeah T.J.,” T.J. said. “Why else do you think I was a total dick to you in little league...or just a dick overall?”

“Never doubt the powers of heterocompuslivity and internalized homophobia,” Cyrus said.

“That intense?” Jonah asked and literally everyone except Buffy in the car shouted “YES!”

“Yeah Jo, you and I are the only non-queers in here as far as I can tell.”

“As far as you can tell?”

“Well, I know I’m straight,” she said. “You haven’t said straight or otherwise.”

He paused. “I mean...I’m into girls…”

“Be free to be,” Marty said. “That’s all that matters.”

“Sounds good to me,” he said. “So Buffy is the only confirmed straight, and I just have a question mark dangling.”

“Hey, still unique even among the majority,” she teased.

___________________

The party was being held in some warehouse downtown, and everyone was in costume, some as a couple, most as a standalone costume. Buffy and Marty were just playing around with each other, daring the other to the tabletop games and later, to who could stay in a kiss the longest. People told them to get a room, and those people got the finger.

Amber and Andi spent the whole night dancing and mingling with other people in costume, though sometimes a guy would try to hit on Amber and brought a friend with them to hit on Andi. They always seemed confused when she said that she was in a relationship, and then once or twice, got so annoyed that she pulled Andi in by the bow tie and kissed her deeply.

T.J. and Cyrus meanwhile, continued their shenanigans, pretending to be the other, complimenting both themselves and the other, being all sappy with each other. T.J. even sat down for most of the evening so that Cyrus could stand and keep the height difference.

People loved seeing how in sync the couple were, and even let them choose several songs over the course of the night so the two could dance together. They were even able to reunite almost everyone and do a reprise of “Born this Way,” except this time one of T.J.’s hands was occupied by Cyrus holding it tightly and kissing the back of it. They ended their night with the final chords of the song and kissed each other deeply on stage while everyone cheered. Buffy and Marty also kissed next to Andi and Amber who kissed as well. Jonah jokingly hugged himself tightly and jumped up and down.

_____________

They were all pretty much exhausted by the time they were leaving and thankful that the Macks agreed to host the group sleepover, with the rule being that they all had to sleep in sleeping bags in the living room to police each other.

T.J. and Cyrus were the last ones awake and they were cuddling, leaning against the couch, using their sleeping bags as blankets as they watched some Disney movies on mute with subtitles on as to not wake up the others.

“Hey,” T.J. said softly, his arms around Cyrus, who was using him as a pillow. “You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah,” he said sleepily, smiling up at T.J. “I love you too.” They leaned in and kissed each other softly. “I love you Mr. Goodman,” Cyrus teased.

“And I love you Mr. Kippen,” T.J. teased back, his fingers dancing playfully over Cyrus’s palm. “You know...I actually kinda like the sound of that. Mr. Goodman…”

“I was about to say the opposite,” Cyrus said back, his eyes close to closing. “I prefer the sound of Mr. Kippen.”

“How about a compromise then,” T.J. said, starting to get tired as well, but wanting to stay awake for as long as Cyrus was. “Mr. Goodman-Kippen.”

“Mr. Goodman-Kippen,” Cyrus yawned that last part. “I really like that...I can’t wait…”

T.J. watched him fall asleep, breathing evenly against his chest and turned off the T.V., adjusting the two of them so that they were lying down and making sure that Cyrus didn’t wake up. T.J. thought about his plans of surprising the group with a trip to Disney World for their senior year graduation trip, and then presenting Cyrus with a very special small box with a special and important gift inside. He smiled at the thought and laced his fingers with Cyrus’s. “Yeah...can’t wait either…”

Tag list: @theobligatedklutz @anarcoqueer1994 @honey-aes @luzawithoutu @tyrus-and-the-swings @losrgeekwhatevr

#My fics #andi mack #tyrus #ambi #cyrus goodman #muffy #tj kippen #amber #buffy

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iris-ymir · 5 years

Text

Guilty or Innocent - Iris

Asked someone to marry you?

“No. Not mi thin’. The whole... damn idea about marriage and shite? I dunno. Like... spending rest or yer life with the same person? Absolutely! Its just... Dont get mi wrong here! But the whole mess about marriage, and such.. It sounds so damn artificial. Do I wanna live with someone for the rest of mi years? Sure! But I dont need a fockin’ ring to prove it to anyone.. Then again.. If someone was to ask mi to marry her? Yeah, why not? If ya want a damn ring, lets get a damn ring!”

Kissed one of your friends?

“Shite... Well, yeah. About that... I have kissed many of mi friends actually.. And let mi tell ya. It always ends up into a fockin’ mess. One way or another! I... guess I should stop kissin’ mi friends..?”

Danced on a table in a bar / tavern? “You.. happen to know what Im doin’ for livin’? Yeah. Basically that.”

Ever told a lie?

“Just show me a fockin’ person who has not, and I’ll show ya a bastard who’s lying right there, on dat very damn moment! We all lie... Some more than others, but thats not the point, righto?”

Had feelings for someone you can’t have?

“Yeah... Ya remember I just told ya about kissin’ mi friends and shite? Well dat. I messed up real good. Like... the royal mess up! I still have feelin’s for her... Could rip mi damn heart out for her... But I think she just might be lost for mi for good... Im not giving up though! But as thin’s are.. What happened between us... Heck. It might be a lost fockin’ cause.”

Ever kissed someone of the same sex?

“Im... so very much a bean flicker, ya know? Never had interest in opposite sex... Does dat answer yer question?”

Kissed a picture? "No? Seven hells, why would I be suckin’ on some damn piece of paper?”

Slept until 5pm? “Im a night owl.. I wake up sometime durin’ the afternoon. So yeah. I will sleep until 5pm, if you dont come and wake mi up. Which is fockin’ annyin’ by tha way.. Just let mi sleep..”

Worked at a fast food chain / restaurant “Nope.. And dont have a slightest interest in such! ...I would make a fockin’ horrible restaurant worker... Now this.. may sound rather miserable, but my current job is actually mi first real day job ever! ...Or well.. A night job? Anyway.. Yeah.”

Stolen something? “I would say... Try living on streets of fockin’ Limsa Lominsa for good 10 summers, and then... if yer still alive and kickin’, try asking yaself dat question! ...Yes. I have stolen for livin’.”

Been fired from a job? “As I mentioned just a moment ago, this is mi first day job ever... And I have been able to keep it so far! ... And Im about to keep it! I want to see the faces of every poor bastard, who ever said I could not get, let alone keep a job! And well... I actually kinda like mi job, so there’s also dat. And I get a decent money out of it.”

Done something you regret? “... Really? We need to go back to this again? I had.. a really bad week some time ago, ya know. I did.. lot of shite.. The whole thin’ is just.. so foggy in mi head, its annoyin’! But yeah. I think I almost slept with mi friend.. broke lot of stuff.. a damned heirloom notestand.. And in the end, I went and kissed another friend against her will... The... one I fockin’ love.. Damn, I miss her. But it was not mi damn fault!! I had just like the shittiest week ever! ... I dont know... Maybe some of it kinda was.. Can we just go on? I focked up, okai..?”

Laughed until something you were drinking came out of your nose? “Nnno. Cant remember such thin’. Sometimes a drink has gone like... into mi nose for one or another reason... But actually out of it? I dont think so. Then again, who am I to say! One just cant remember everythin’ ya know?”

Caught a snowflake on your tongue? “No, I have not. Tha Shrimp does it, so.. technically I have? But as miself? No. I have not. On purpose at least.”

Sat on a roof top? “Used to do that in Limsa Lominsa. It was.. an awfully calming feeling, ya know? To get away from all the shite, going on down on the streets. Just... sit alone, watch the ships getting loaded.. Watch them sailin’ away. I dont do it anymore though.. The roofs in Ishgard are fockin’ slippery.”

Kissed someone you shouldn’t have? Iris gives the other a long, dead stare. “... Fockin’ really?! Didn’t I just told ya dat. Ya want some heckin’ details?! Right! So, yes, I was wasted... I shouldn’t have to... And damn yes, it was foolish of mi! Silke. The gal I fancy.. Ya know the type that just... puts damn butterflies into yer tumtum.. rises yer head up to the fockin’ pink clouds faster than anythin’ ya can buy from the streets of Ul’dah.. A damn purdiful fockin’ lass... Damn best thin’ that ever happened to mi... And I focked it up by hecking going and kissing her! So... Ya happy with dis subject now, or are ya gonna poke dat infected wound some more? If so, Im done with dis...”

Sang in the shower?

“Ummm... No.”

Been pushed into a body of water with all your clothes on? “Pushed? I... dont think so! Thrown into water with mi clothes on though... Yes! And I tell ya now! That damn merchant had a heckin’ cart full of those apples! Most of dem would have gone on waste aniway! But nooo.. I get thrown into sea, for one damn apple! One apple!! And it was not even worth it. The apple was dry like Sagolii sand the merchant’s fockin’ muffin-hole was propably full of!”

Shaved your head? "Well, I did not!! Blacksoul did durin’ the time he fockin’ kept mi as his personal damn doll or somethin’.. So yeah! It is growin’ back now, but if it looks like a damn rake-raped crow’s arse to ya, its not my fault!!”

Made a boyfriend / girlfriend cry? “I... dont know, actually! Not during mi time with her, no. We kiinda only had a fleetin’ moment though, so did not ‘ave like... too much time to make the lass cry! ... I guess she still believes mi to be dead though. So its possible she cried for mi presumed death in the hands of her husband’s underlin’s... I hope she did... Yeah.”

Shot a gun? “I did, yeah! Ya know... One of those Ishgardian ones. Loud... lot of smoke... A decent kick. Kinda like a bar night to live for! You know, Im actually even rather decent with guns.. Not my style, though.”

Still loved someone you shouldn’t? “You gotta be kiddin’ me!! ... Oh wait. Someone I shouldn’t? I dont think so... Seven hells, we heckin’ belong together!! ...She has just... yet to understan it... She will! Sooner or later... Hopefully sooner. Fock’s sake, I miss that silly gal and her nice ass...”

Have / had a tattoo? “Yeah, the one around mi eyes. I also have another one on mi thigh... Iris flowers and thorns... Four of dem. For four kinda important people in mi life. From which, I have actually lost... every single one... Fock’s sake, whats wrong with mi?!”

Liked someone, but will never tell who? “Nno. I have... some difficulties in the ‘never tell’-thingie. Im more of a... ‘tell too much’-type o’ person. But ‘ey! Kinda honesty is a good thing, right?”

Been too honest? “If bein’ too ‘onest means kiinda colorin’ the truth a little to make it hit on the mark better. Yeah. I guess so. I just may overact a bit time to time! But den again... Makes the truth more interestin’ huh?”

Ruined a surprise? “No, I hardly part-take in suprises in general...”

Been told that you’re beautiful by someone who totally meant what they said? “Actually... No. I dont know!! Well, mi first girlfriend did, but did she totally mean what she said? Damn, I dont know... Considerin’ the fact she... most likely kinda sold mi out not too long after, it makes it heckin’ hard to believe anythin’ that ever crossed those sweet crimson lips of hers! I wonder why no-one has ever said it though... Im smokin’ hot!! ... So tell me. Am I beautiful..? Hm?”

Stalked someone? “If we call people watchin’ stalkin’ here, then Im damn guilty as a plague rat! But like... in the creepy wai? No! Why the heck would I do somethin’ like that. Dats just sick...”

Thought about murder? “If someone has just taken a royal shite on ya, sweet damn, thats reason enough to just shank the bastard, and scatter the innards into the sea! Most people are so fockin’ rotten though, I dunno if even damn fishies care for their foul organs... Could always make dem into a bagpipe and gift it to their family and friends... Maybe then they could actually get a taste of whut kinda shitebag they been hangin’ around with...”

How about mass murder?

“... Well, as dey say... Apple does not drop far from a tree, and sometimes those apples are rotten before dey hit the ground. So yeah. The last question in mind, why not?”

Cheated on someone? “No! Think anythin’ you want of mi, but Im fockin’ devoted!! ... Well, I have only had one relationship, that lasted for like... couple of months... But damn I was devoted... Up until she choose her husband over mi...”

Gotten so angry that you cried? “Happens time to time... Cryin’.. cleans the system, ya know. Just... Get into middle of nowhere, and scream yer lungs out!”

Tried to stay away from someone for their own good? “... Im kinda doin’ that right now. Dey will be better off without me. She’s got her damn hero dere, taking care of her... Where does she even need mi anyway? Heck, we barely even knew eachother... ... I think Im better off without dem too.. Shite.. Dey were awfully nice towards mi though.. Do I really miss dem? ... Maybe. But it all went down in flames and bloody sheets, can we talk about somethin’ else?”

Thoughts about suicide? “Sometimes the road just rises up against you... I kinda understand it on some occasions! But overall? Kinda waste...”

Had a girlfriend / boyfriend? “Yes? That one mess I mentioned earlier? Ya payin’ attention to dis?”

Gotten totally drunk during a holiday? “Used to... Especially in Limsa, it was kinda mi way to get over the holidays. Hated to see bastards walking around all merry and shite. So I drowned mi holidays in a glass. Last Starlight was different though.. Blacksoul kinda forced mi to stay sober over the holidays... Well.. Mostly sober... Dont ya go tellin’ the old goat, but I... I think I kinda liked it. The whole Starlight with Blacksoul and Gramps... I had never really celebrated it with anyone... As miself. Heck, I just wanted mi Silke to be there, heckin’ messin’ around... I wonder if she ever got mi gift...”

Tagged by wonderful @mai-takeda!! 🌹 This was lot of fun..

Tagging @umbralich (Silke) @sharkycatsifoh @hangedemperor @kyrie-silverwings @under-the-blood-moonlight @alun-ura @isuke-ejinn @ishgard @torr-sceadu @lydha-lran @glorysworn @lavender-hemlock @kazexvoss @glorified-thieves @captainkurosolaire @illia-ast @thefreelanceangel @sdavi-kitanni @kitsune-kirei @violet-warder @desimirffxiv @unatobajhiri @gildedandgolden @eo-sul @robyn-sawyer @eitur & anyone who wants to do it! Cansider yourself tagged!

#the Iris within #guilty or innocent #rp #viera

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walkerismychoice · 5 years

Text

Stripped Bare - Chapter 8 (Bryce X MC AU)

Book: Open Heart

Pairing: Bryce X MC (Charlie Hawkins)

Summary: The first full day of wedding activities continues while Charlie and Bryce’s “fake” relationship gets more and more convincing.

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 2441

Kyra fans out the skirt of her bridesmaid dress as she looks in the three panel mirror at the back of the boutique. “These dresses aren’t as bad as I expected. I mean the seafoam green color is a bit on the nose for a beach wedding, but I would have thought she’d choose something hideous for all of us just so she would look that much better.”

“But that would ruin her aesthetic.” Charlie puts a hand to her chest and gasps in mock horror. “Katelyn would never!” Both she and Kyra devolve into a fit of laughter.

The group had split apart after tennis - and showers thank god - to get fitted for their dresses and tuxes respectively, while the lucky non-wedding party significant others got a few minutes to relax and breathe. Katelyn had required the bridesmaids to try on dresses at the bridal shop back in Connecticut and then have them ordered and shipped to the the resort boutique because she’s that much of a bridezilla control freak.

Katelyn walks back from the front of the store, where she had been seated with the Sarahs drinking mimosas, and studies both of them scrupulously. “Looks like yours fits pretty well Kyra. My color options were limited with your red hair and pale skin, but I think this shade of green works quite well on you Charlie. However...” Katelyn motions for the seamstress to come over. “Do you think we need to let this out in the bust? She must have gained a few pounds since we tried this size on in the bridal boutique.”

"Or maybe the sample size was not cut exactly the same as this one." Charlie knows she's not a size two like she used to be in high school when she would stress about everything she put in her mouth, but a size eight is nowhere near overweight. Still, she's not always comfortable with her newfound curves, and it stings to hear that comment from Katelyn.

"No, no, no." Mary the seamstress insists. 'You are a beautiful, voluptuous woman. You fill the dress out very nicely."

"I agree with Mary," Kyra adds. "You boobs look fucking amazing in that dress."

"Kyra!" Katelyn scolds while Charlie blushes. "Well I guess it is what it is. Just make sure you wear a good bra.

"Noted," Charlie murmurs under her breath and disappears back into the dressing room. She sits on the bench seat, taking a deep breath, and she doesn't know why, but her first instinct is to text Bryce about how awful Katelyn has been. She shakes off the thought, but then she hears her phone buzz in her purse and almost can't believe her eyes when she sees a text from Bryce:

Since it's been like ninety minutes since you've seen me shirtless, and you're stuck with Katelyn, I thought you might need a pick me up.

The text was accompanied by a full length mirror selfie of Bryce in only athletic shorts, clearly post workout.

Bold of you to assume that will make me feel better. She types back. It doesn't hurt, but she's not going to admit that. Looks like you can't even go two hours without talking to me. You miss me that bad?" She hits send and immediately regrets it, but moments later she gets another text:

Maybe...

Charlie doesn't even know what to do with that, so she puts her phone away, but not before taking another look at the picture of Bryce, shirtless and glistening with sweat. Normally she would think a guy sending her a picture like that was gross, but not with him. Bryce literally looks good anytime, anywhere, no matter what he is or isn't wearing, and life just isn't fair.

Charlie puts her floral sundress back on, and checks herself out the mirror. Her cheeks are still burning bright, and she needs to get ahold of herself. She’s guessing Bryce was just trying to get a reaction out of her, and if so, mission accomplished. He doesn’t even have to be in her presence to get her all flustered. Charlie fans her face and inhales deeply before joining the other ladies.

The rest of the day passes fairly quickly. The women eat a late lunch together and Kyra and Charlie mostly keep to themselves while Katelyn and the Sarahs are so engrossed in their own conversation, they hardly notice. Then the whole group meets up for a glass bottom boat tour which is fun, but a bit crowded and noisy with all of them on one boat. Charlie gets some great pictures of sealife and selects one for Instagram. Bryce then insists they get a take a selfie of themselves to post. Charlie wonders why when everyone they are trying to convince is right there with them, but there’s no way she’s going to question it in front of everyone, so she does as he requests. Bryce squeezes his arm around her and presses his cheek to hers before snapping the picture. Charlie checks out the post after it uploads. They both looks so happy, and it seems so...real. They always say it’s not fair to look at other people’s social media and compare yourself because they only show what they want you to see, and she’s living proof. She looks like she’s having a great time in paradise with her gorgeous boyfriend, but it's all a lie, isn’t it?

The boat drops them off at the resort, and they head straight to dinner and eat oceanside at Seagrape Terrace. The sun is starting to set and a gentle breeze wafts in from over the water. Each table is set for six, and the thankfully there’s no assigned seating tonight. Unfortunately, she still ends up at the same table as Katelyn and Landry, and although Kyra is also there to help keep her sane, Bob is as well by default since everyone else is paired off. With Charlie seated between Bryce and Kyra, Landry next to Bob so they can chat about their glory days in undergrad or whatever, the only spot left for Katelyn is next to Bryce.

Katelyn takes a sip of her wine. “So Bryce, you really showed nice form on the court today. What club do you belong to? They must have incredible tennis pros there”.

Charlie nervously pushes a stray piece of lettuce around on her salad plate, unsure of how Bryce will answer.

Bryce swallows the bite of food in his mouth. “I’m kind of between clubs right now. My family isn’t from the East Coast, and I’ve been so busy with medical school I haven’t had much time. You know how it is, Landry.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I’ve hardly had a chance to visit my club the past few years.”

“So is that your excuse for your poor showing today?” Katelyn huffs.

“Muffin, I think it’s safe to say we could have both played better today. Maybe if you hadn’t been so distracted...”

Charlie quickly grabs the bread basket from the middle of the table. “Did everyone get some bread? There’s a few pieces left.”

Neither Katelyn or Landry answers, but at least they stop bickering.

“I’ll take another if no one else is going to have one.” Bryce reaches in and selects a piece. “You know I’ll never turn down your buns, Honey.” He smirks at Charlie.

“Very funny, Sweetie.” Charlie gives him a look out of the corner of her eye and he just chuckles.

The food comes and Charlie’s salmon is flaky and delicious. There’s just something about eating seafood at the ocean that makes it taste that much better. Charlie has two glasses of wine, already breaking her self-imposed no more drinking rule, but two glasses of wine on a full stomach is very much manageable. She thinks its incidental the first time Bryce’s outer thigh brushes against hers, but then it happens again and again. As dinner goes on Bryce seems to drift closer to Charlie, but it’s possible he’s just trying to get as far away as possible from Katelyn.

Dinner starts to wind down, and Bryce stands up and offers a hand to Charlie. “Would you like to take a walk My Dear?”

“Sure..” Charlie accepts Bryce’s hand and excuses herself from the table. She’s not certain of his motives, but she’s had more than enough of Katelyn for one day, so she'll take any excuse to escape. Bryce laces his fingers through hers and gives her hand a squeeze as they walk away.

Once out of earshot, Charlie questions Bryce. “Honey? My Dea? What’s with all the cutesy nicknames? I don’t think you have to lay it on that thick.”

“I believe I heard you call me Sweetie, Sugarlips.”

“Oh my god, Bryce.” Charlie playfully nudges her shoulder into his. “There’s noone to hear us now, so you can stop that nonsense.”

“Just trying them out.”

“Trying them out for what?”

Bryce shrugs. “Just in case.”

In case what? Charlie wonders. “Well if you call me Sugarlips in front of anyone else, I’m putting you on the first plane home.

Bryce laughs. “No Sugarlips. Got it. At least it’s better than Muffin.”

“Heh. They are the worst in every possible way, aren’t they?” Charlie looks up at Bryce, and his features are so striking in the moonlight, as if they aren’t also in every other light. She sighs inaudibly because she’s finally admitting to herself she’s starting to fall for him, even though it’s the last thing she should do.

Bryce leads her down a long pier with a gazebo at the end overlooking the water. It’s so peaceful and serene, that even though they are still in view of the group back at the restaurant, it feels like they are the only two around.

Bryce looks back at the others and then spins himself and Charlie around so his back is facing the crowd. “We have an audience. Should we give them a show?”

Charlie swallows hard. “Um, like what?”

Bryce weave his fingers through Charlie’s hair and presses his body close enough to hers she can feel the heat radiating off of him. “Wrap your arms around me.” She does as instructed, sliding her hands up his back and feeling the contour of his taut muscles through the light cotton fabric of his button down shirt. He leans in close until their lips are a breath apart. She closes her eyes, waiting for what comes next, until she feels his forehead rest against hers.”There. They’ll definitely assume we are making out now.”

Charlie prays Bryce can’t hear how fast her heart is beating in her chest right now. And god, she hopes he doesn’t know she thought he was going to kiss her, and how much she actually wanted it. “Perfect.” She tries not sound disappointed. There’s a look in Bryce’s eyes Charlie can’t quite read. Sometimes it seems like he’s trying to test her, but she has no clue what he’s looking for and if she’s passing or failing. They remain that way for an indiscernible amount of time, until it feels like it’s been convincingly long enough, and Charlie yawns. ”I think I’m done for the day. You ready?”

Bryce places a hand on the small of Charlie’s back. “Lead the way.”

~~~

Charlie is exhausted by the time they get back to their hotel room, but at least tonight she’s sober enough to get ready for bed her self. She groans and gets embarrassed all over again just thinking about it. She settles into bed and flips the TV on until her eyelids get heavy. She just about out when a loud creaking noise jolts her wide awake. Uncertain about what she just heard, she waits and the squeaking and creaking noises continue on the other side of the wall, until at last there’s a big, metallic thump and she rushes out in the living room to see what’s going on.

Bryce looks up from laying out his bedding on the now folded up sofa sleeper. “Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“Almost...what’s going on?”

“I told you how terrible this thing is to sleep on. I couldn’t stop tossing and turning, so I decided I might fare better on just the sofa part.”

“Bryce, let me sleep out here, and you take my bed.” Charlie insists. “Then one of us can get good sleep every other night at least.”

“Nah,” Bryce waves her off. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable at my expense.”

Charlie sighs deeply. “Fine if you are going to insist on being so stubbornly chivalrous, then why don’t we just share the bed?”

“What did you just say?” Bryce asks and Charlie thinks he just wants to make her say it again.

“It’s a king size bed. There’s plenty of space.”

A mischievous smiles creeps up on Bryce’s lips. “Any excuse to get me into bed with you, huh?”

Charlie picks up a pillow and chucks it at Bryce. “Just shut up and get in there before I take back my offer.”

Charlie climbs into the right side of the bed and keeps all the way to the edge to avoid any incidental touching. This had seemed like a better idea before it was actually happening. Maybe if she wasn’t interested in Bryce this would be no big deal, but she’s acutely aware of how close he is, clad only in his boxer briefs. What if she rolls over and cuddles him in her sleep? What if she drools on him again? What if he wakes up hard? She can’t get that last image out of her brain and she’s thankful for the darkness covering up the color in her cheeks.

“You know, if you move any further away, you’re going to fall right onto the floor. You don’t have to worry about me encroaching on your side.” Bryce pats the middle of the bed. “Make yourself comfortable.”

“Well, you might have to worry about me. I’m kind of a wild sleeper. You could wake up with me on top of you.”

Bryce chuckles. “I think I could handle that.”

Well I couldn’t. There’s something about Bryce’s tone of voice that gets her all worked up again, her entire body flush with heat, and he probably knows exactly what he’s doing to her. Despite her reservations, she moves a bit closer to the middle of the bed, but makes a point of putting her long body pillow as a barrier. “For my own peace of mind.”

Bryce laughs as he turns on his side. “Whatever makes you happy.”

#playchoices fanfic #open heart #bryce x mc #bryce lahela #Stripped Bare #my fic

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