#other than maybe buy me a slice of cake | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

junedenim · 1 month

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put your heavy metal to the test

part one part two

if you're fucking him, you might as well take advantage of it

warnings: smut, fluff, facefucking, sex toy, piv

word count: 4.8k

It's Elizabeth's birthday on Friday. This means two things: an office party & a drinking party.

"Do you not want me to go?" Alex asks. He's in your kitchen making breakfast. Repeat: he's in your kitchen making breakfast. These things have started to sneak up on you increasingly—this pattern of waking up in his arms and making breakfast on weekends.

You shrug with your cup of coffee. "You can do whatever you want." That tiptoeing-around habit has continued. There has been no addressing of what this is other than the fact that it's happening and you both want it to happen.

He chuckles as he butters his near-burnt toast. "I know that. She's your friend and I don't want to overstep on your night out."

"Well." You lean over the counter, your arms prop up your boobs showcasing your cleavage on a full display for his eyes to look directly at. "Who's gonna take me home after a long night?"

Alex raises his eyebrows with a smirk. "You want me to?"

You stand from the barstool and walk over to the sink to empty your cup. "There's plenty of options."

You start to walk to your bedroom when his arms wrap around you tightly. "Who? Gunner?" You try to escape but his grip only grows tighter. You're laughing and it's too much but you decide to enjoy a moment when his touch is friendly and means nothing more than a laugh instead of some goal of pleasure. It's too much and just enough.

Elizabeth's birthday cake is a vanilla sheet cake bought by Ed at the grocery store down the street. It looks pretty and tastes shitty but it's the effort that counts and Ed is probably the best boss you've ever had (maybe, second best, but the other one gets disqualified for unfair advantages).

You're sitting in a little group of people eating a slice of cake when Alex sits next to you with a mouthful of cake. "Got enough there?" You ask him. He sticks his tongue with a dusting of his chewed-up food. "Ew."

"Alex," Elizabeth calls from a few seats over. "You're joining our little party tonight, right?"

He nods, swallowing his piece. "That was the plan."

"Fantastic!" She cheers. "Everyone has to buy me a drink, well, unless you got a present for me. Your present is a drink for me."

"Okay."

With the group distracted and returning to their conversation, you lean over and whisper to Alex, "Or you could go halvesies on my gift?"

He looks over, all serene. You don't understand how he doesn't stare at himself in the mirror all day like Narcissus. "Are we at the stage in our relationship where we're gifting things as a couple?"

You giggle softly, covering your mouth. "Elizabeth would rip my hair out if that happened."

"Why?"

"Because she's in love with you."

His jaw becomes slightly agape. "What?"

You stare at him, searching for a sign of trickery. "You can not be that clueless. You're pulling my leg."

He shakes his head.

"Seriously? She stares at you all the time."

"Well, my eyes are busy elsewhere." His browns stare clearly at you.

You roll your eyes. "She's been into you since before all our stuff."

"My eyes have been busy since before all our stuff."

You laugh. "You're full of shit."

He turns away and looks at the last crumbs of his slice of cake. "Maybe you're the clueless one. Did you ever think that?"

You point your plastic fork at him. "No, because you're lying."

"I'm an honest man." He sighs and stands with an empty plate. "Happy birthday, Elizabeth. I'll see you later tonight."

"You're leaving already?" She frowns. "Come on, Ed gave us an extended break for a reason."

Alex waves her off. "I have to work on some things with Ed. I'm lucky he gave me long enough of a break to eat a slice of cake."

"He works you too hard."

"Yeah, well, I like it. Have a good one, you guys." You've learned that Alex works too much. You told him you think he's going to have a heart attack one day for the emphasis he places on work in his life. He told you he doesn't know how to function without it. You told him that sounded sad and he should find ways to relieve that stress. Then, he fucked you and said that was his stress relief. And you said that was good enough.

He sits next to you at the bar, which should be suspicious to your co-workers but no questionable looks are shot in your direction. He's smooth in every way. He shaved this morning and he moves in such a way that you can only call smooth. He moves his hands smooth. He talks smooth. He kisses smooth.

When he put his lips on you outside the bar you could have slapped him because he tempts fate too much and you swear he is trying to get you both fired. But he molds himself to you, shoves his hand into the curve of your back, and doesn't let go for a second. He smiled when he pulled away and you couldn't do anything to that poor face of his. So lovely to look at and so loving in return. He's becoming too sweet and anyone who squinted could see the truth. His thigh rubbing up against yours and you laughing too hard at his dumb jokes but they keep hushed and you hope it stays that way (at least for now).

Elizabeth is double-fisting drinks and she sips one and then the other. You're drinking but you don't want to get drunk because you want to end the night cognizant with Alex. Elizabeth has other ideas...

"Chug your beer with me. Come on! Come on!" She urges.

You wave her off. "I'm good. But I'll watch you."

She whines. "No fun! Alex!" She grabs a hold of his hand from across the table. "You drink with me. Come on! Come on!"

Alex chuckles, amused by the display. He pats her hand and then pulls away, wrapping his hand around his cold glass, caressing it with such care you're jealous of it. "I'm the kind of guy who likes to savour his drinks."

"Boo! No fun you two!" She slurs. Being referred to in a pair gives you tingles. A thing in which you wish to be shoved away through the numbness of alcohol. Feeling it in private is one thing but suffocated in a crowd of people you feel as if your skin could fall off. That you're exposed and they can see right through you with their feelings X-ray scanner. Maybe you're just paranoid.

Elizabeth leans forward, completely intoxicated with liquor and infatuation. "So, Alex, I've heard about this big project you have. I'll admit I'm jealous I don't get to work on it." She's jealous of you for working with him...she's going to kill you if she ever finds out.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom," you announce.

"Okay!" Elizabeth says, all happy and perky for alone time with Alex.

Should you feel jealous? Probably not, you've always been told jealousy isn't a good emotion. It's weird. You feel an obligation to be jealous but you aren't. Maybe it's because you and Alex are just fooling around in a highly sophisticated we-aren't-going-to-do-this-with-anybody-else-except-each-other-but-we-are-totally-not-a-couple kind of way. Maybe because you know he won't do anything. Elizabeth has been throwing yourself at Alex since she started working here and nothing has come of it. What's the difference now? He's so blase toward anything that it's obvious when he is interested in something.

Like when he walks into the women's restroom.

"What are you doing here?" You're washing your hands and he's by the door, chest pumped out and so heroic-looking with a smolder you could laugh.

"I thought we were..." He gestures between the two of you.

"We were?" You implore him to finish as you wipe your hands clean.

His head drops.

You laugh. "No, I actually did just have to go to the bathroom."

"Well, since I'm here..." Alex trails off for you to get the idea again.

You finish, "Fuck you? No, not really."

"Okay," he accepts. He looks around examining the stalls and sinks as you watch on. "Do you want to leave now and go do it?"

"And have everyone watch us leave together? No thanks." You say as you toss the paper towel.

"We've done it before." He's moving forward suggestively and you'd take a step back if you weren't so into it. Into him.

You move past him, brushing shoulders like it's the greatest romance, something Austenian. "And we won't be repeating."

He moves backward, blocking your exit. "Fine. I'll leave saying I'm loaded with work and in a half hour, you'll say you have a headache and then you'll come to my place."

"I don't want to go to your place," you whine. You're being difficult but your place is closer to here and the drive home from Alex's is always annoying it almost makes you want to stay there forever (solely for driving purposes, nothing else).

"Then, we'll go to your place."

"But if you leave first you'll need a key."

"Then you go first."

"I don't want to leave yet."

"Then I'll use the key in the potted plant." A key you put there for Alex because nobody else visits enough to warrant a spare key.

"So, you're just going to mess about in my flat for 30 minutes."

He shrugs with his hands on his hips. "I'll find something to do."

You squint. "You're gonna snoop."

"You have no faith in me."

"Well, I know what I would do if you left me alone in your place for 30 minutes."

He laughs. "You wouldn't find much." His place generally carries a stark bareness to it.

"I'd find something. Everyone hides something."

"What do you hide?"

You roll your eyes. "You'll have no fun in your snooping if I tell you what I'm hiding."

He raises his eyebrows. "So, you want me to snoop?"

"I want to get out of this bathroom but you're trapping me in here. You're lucky no one has walked in."

"I'm a very lucky guy. You should know this."

Something in his eyes makes flutter and an uncontrollable smile covers your face. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugs with a wide grin on his face and steps out of the way of the door. His face is endlessly endearing and you could leave if your body would let you but it would be a crime to leave without a simple kiss.

You hold his left cheek, so smooth. You peck his lips. Twice, for a good measure. That grin is still irreplaceable and wider than ever. "Have fun putting your tampon in."

He just gives a light slap to your ass and lets you go. For now.

"I have a wicked headache." You place to palm of your hand on your forehead, cringing your eyes.

Alex chuckles on the other side of the opened door. It's weird having him open your flat's door. He claps his hands together. "Stellar acting. Destined for the stage."

You bow dramatically. "Thank you."

He opens the door more, letting you pass. You toss your purse on the couch, then your body. "It took some convincing. She nearly shoved two Advils down my throat before I was able to leave."

Alex sits beside you. "What about me? I thought my clothes were gonna have claw marks on them."

"Well," you sigh, "don't flatter yourself too much. She was all over Ben when I left."

He snaps his fingers. "Shucks."

You sniffle. "What's that smell?"

"I made dinner."

"You made me dinner?"

"I made me dinner. You came back earlier than I thought you would."

You're quick to grab your purse and smack him with it. He grabs your wrist, then your hips, guiding you to straddle him. You sit on top of him. You can feel him. His every move. Your hands lying on his shoulders. His light touch on your elbows. He kisses your hand and it feels like a holy blessing. Like you're the Pope and he's kissing your ring.

"Did you snoop?"

"I snooped."

"And?"

"You're boring." You erupt with laughter, laying your head on his shoulder. "I didn't look too hard anyway. I didn't want to invade your space."

"It's fine. I invited you to." But you don't mind how caring he is. How gentle he is as his fingertips brush down your clothed spine.

"Okay. I guess that helps because I did find your vibrator."

You hit his chest with your hands. "Ew. Don't talk about that."

"You told me to snoop!"

"Whatever. It's a common thing. Every girl has one in their drawer. We have to use it because guys never get the job done," you reason.

Alex brags, "I get the job done."

"Don't be cocky. I could be faking it."

"Okay," he easily accepts. Maybe because it isn't believable in the slightest.

"You're being cunning. If you think we're going to do some sex thing with it you're out of luck because it's out of batteries."

"Oh, so if it's out of batteries then how are you able to use it after you're done with me."

You pull away from him, standing up, your heels clunking on the floor. "Stop it! That is a personal item. I don't talk to you about your sex toys."

"Mine's just my hand and I'm not really using it much as of late."

You cross your arms. "So, I'm your sex toy. I should be paid."

He raises his eyebrows. "You want to be my prostitute?"

You think about it. "Fair point. Pay me with dinner."

"They're your ingredients anyway."

You shake your head. "No, I mean, take me out to dinner."

"Now?"

"No!" You giggle. "Like this weekend or something. On a date," you clarify. You've slept with the guy. Why are you nervous about a date?

Alex nods and gives you a crooked smile. "Okay."

"You're being cunning again."

"Fuck yeah. You've been blue balling me all night."

You purse your lips. "You haven't exactly returned the favour."

"You have your vibrator for that."

"Oh, okay, sure. I'll just grab some batteries." You make a point, marching over to grab your TV remote and popping it out. He follows you to your bedroom where you stuff them into your vibrator. You turn around, staring at him standing at the edge of your bed. "If you don't mind, we'd like some time alone."

He toots a laugh. "Nice try. Now put the vibrator down and let me fuck you."

"But the vibrator hits me just right," you taunt, all pouty and flirty.

His steps are controlled but powerful. You can feel his shoes thud on the floor and his gaze is controlling like he's mind-controlling you to put the vibrator down. Your grip stays steady even as his hand rounds your back and pulls you closer and closer until his lips are on you.

"Your vibrator do this?" He teases. Your boobs are pressed against his chest and his hand is pushing your head closer to his, keeping you in a kiss.

"They're very advanced these days," you mutter against his lips.

He's kissing you tight and harder. Your knees buckle against your bed as you fall back onto the bed. In some chaos of tugging on clothes before pulling them fully off, Alex takes the vibrator out of your hand. He's kissing you again, distracting you. Your hand travels down the space in between your bodies and you're reaching out, rubbing your hand against his cock.

"How badly do you want me in your mouth?"

"You're presumptuous," you joke.

But he's clearly not in a joking mood as he stops your hand from moving around him. He reiterates, "How bad do you want it?"

"Badly," you tell him.

You can tell Alex wants to tease you more, but he's getting too worked up for verbal foreplay, so he stands up, tugging your head along with him. He grabs you by the throat and pulls you closer, so your head is dangling upside down off the bed, and then roughly shoves his cock down your throat.

"There you go," he taunts, thrusting into your mouth with brutal force. It only takes three hits to the back of her throat for you to gag on his cock, choking on its thickness. He pulls back just long enough for you to catch a breath before he pushes back in. "You fucking love it, don't you?"

You gurgle around him, trying to breathe through your nose as the pace of his pumps picks up. You do love it and wish you didn't have a gag reflex, so you could take all of him without needing a break, but he told you once before he loves it when you choke on him.

He slows his thrusts down a bit and leans forward, palming your breasts. He plays with your nipples knowing how much you love when he does that, especially when you're in a position like this. Your squeak of surprise is muffled by his cock before it turns into moans of pleasure when he grabs a tit, roughly massaging it with his callused hands. He starts to pick up his rhythm again. Your body jerks at the action and he makes sure to shove down extra hard in response. After a few minutes of toying with your tits, his hand travels further down, running a finger through you. "Look at you, so wet for my cock already. You want it so badly, I can't believe you didn't fuck me in the bathroom. You love doing that shit, dirty girl."

You can't get any words out, but you jerk your hips up, trying to get his fingers to press harder or go into you or just do something. You're wet and aching for him. He lets his fingers slip through you a few times, making sure to avoid your clit, before he pulls away from her completely. Without thinking, you bring your hand to your pussy to replace his, but he immediately slaps it away.

Alex asks, "You want me to leave?" You shake your head. "Then, don't play with yourself."

He thrusts into your mouth a few more times before turning you around. He climbs up onto the bed and urges your legs apart so he can kneel between them. The heel of his hand presses against your clit as his fingers slip through you, finding your entrance and pushing two fingers into you with ease.

He fingers you for a few moments before leaving you empty. He positions you properly and lines himself up before plunging into you.

"Jesus," he grunts. He stays inside of you for a moment to gather himself, before he pulls out and slams back into you once, twice, three times, until he's started a steady rhythm of pumps. He pushes on his toes, bending you further, giving him an even steeper angle to pound into you. He stretches, his thighs slapping against her ass loudly with each hit, before it's too much of a strain on his muscles to fuck you at this angle.

He stops and palms your ass cheeks and brings you closer to him. You hear the buzz and can't help but roll your eyes even if you're begging for any pleasure. "Seriously?"

"You want me to stop?" He's playing with you. Dangling a carrot in front of your face and yanking it away in an instant. You're not going to tempt fate.

"No," you answer, trying to rock against him, desperately wanting him to start up again.

He presses the toy against you and you have a hard time holding yourself up. Your arms bucking and taking your face down to laying against a pillow. He bends a little at the knees so his cock is level with your cunt, and then shoves his length into you again until they meet with a smack. He squeezes your ass cheeks roughly before sliding them down your lower back, pulling your body closer to meet every one of his thrusts with as much force as possible.

"Oh, oh fuck," you whimper, you start to clench around him as he holds the vibrator on your clit and bucks into you. You're impressed by his ability to do both at the same time while you can't even hold yourself up. "Fuck, I'm gonna come."

"Come on my cock," he tells you, his hips becoming frantic as he gets closer as well. "You fucking come on my cock. Then, I'm coming in you."

It's all you need to hear before you let go, letting your orgasm hit you in waves. You shake against him. He is still pounding into you through it, and holding the vibrator intensely onto you. Just as you start to come down, you feel him swell against the vice grip you have on him, before he lets go too, spilling into you.

His head falls into the slope of your back but he holds steady with the vibrator on you until you whack at his hand. "Too much," you cry. He looks tempted to push back but he shuts the device off before collapsing onto his back on the side of the bed that is looking more and more like his side of the bed.

You fall on your stomach. Both of you just lie there in thought, trying to find something that will ease the shaking of your thighs and Alex's shallow breathing. "Fuck," you hear him mumble.

You make a sound in agreement but can't figure out how to do more. You feel as though you've been rewired. You feel his touch on your arm before he yanks you over into his arms. You groan, already feeling sore.

He kisses your temple before he gets up from the bed and disappears into the bathroom, returning with a towel. Loving and tender after rough and unforgiving.

It's late and you're in his arms and you feel as delicate as you ever have and feel like you can say anything and he would still hold you in his arms. "I think you should present the project on Monday," he tells you.

You pull your head back. "What?"

"It's really your project. I only supervised and, god knows, Jeff did nothing. It's your thing and I don't think I could—anyone could—explain the project as well as you do."

"That's a big thing."

"I'll practice with you."

"But to present to corporate and all of them. Isn't it out of character for someone like me to do that?"

"Ben has done it before." Ben is higher up than you so it's not exactly an equal comparison.

You lift your head up to look him in his eyes and directly ask, "Are you doing this—"

He closes his eyes and tosses his head to the side. "God, don't even say that. That's two steps away from me trading sex for raises."

"Sorry."

"It's fine but it has nothing to do with that. You're brilliant," he says so earnestly you almost believe it.

"Sure," you say doubtfully.

He shakes his head and tugs you closer. "You'll see. You're the smartest person I've ever met."

You laugh. "You don't have to bullshit me now."

"No bullshitting. All those guys, Ed, corporate are a bunch of showoffs but you. You're like smart smart. Booksmart, streetsmart, emotionally intelligent. We're a bag of nothing."

"You're the smartest person I've ever met. No bullshit."

"I don't believe you."

"That's fine. That doesn't mean it isn't true."

On Monday morning, he kisses you in the middle of the breakroom. It's the closest you've come to nearly exposing whatever this is. It's much more risky than his office and a crowded city street. "Too much, Al," you tell him.

"I'm proud of you," he says. His thumb rubs against the corner of your lips, removing the kiss dribble. "Aren't I allowed to be proud of you?"

"You kiss everyone you're proud of?"

"Yeah, why do you think Ed and I take so long after meetings?"

"Ew!" You push him away from you, sharing a laugh between you.

The breakroom door swings open and Elizabeth walks in. It's alarming how unwilling you both are to move away from each other but she's distracted by her own cheer. "How'd it go?" She exclaims.

"Oh, yeah, she was perfect," Alex boasts, leaning against a counter.

Elizabeth claps her hands. "Did we ever have any doubts?"

"No, never," he says sincerely. You make eye contact with him and he stands up straight. "Well, I should go."

"No rest for the wicked, huh?" Elizabeth says.

"Yeah."

When he leaves she turns to you with a smile. "You better get me on the next project. God, I wish he'd talk about me that way." She's dreamy. A schoolgirl gazing onward at her teacher with her immature crush. You don't feel guilty about you and Alex but you feel shame from hiding it from her as if you're leading her on in some kind of way. But she seems to have accepted the idea of her and Alex as a fantasy. There's doubt she'll accept Alex being a reality for you.

You go into his office later and he's quick to attack. His lips are on you and his hands are heavy on your back. "How fucking good were you?"

You push him back. "You've mentioned it before." Alex exchanges hasty, uncoordinated kisses with you.

"Want me to fuck you?"

"Not here."

Alex whines, you've never heard him do that before. "Quick."

You laugh. "After my stellar performance, you want me to get caught sucking off my boss?"

He seems to think about it for a moment before nodding. "You have a point."

Your arms curl around his neck, bringing him closer to you as you whisper in his ear, "I'll fuck you at my place. We'll fuck the whole night."

"Yeah?"

You pull back with a head nod and a lip bite. "Yeah."

"That reminds me I have your spare key." He moves to pull it out from his bag.

You hold your hand up. "Keep it." He's there half the week. The other half you're at his. You're fucked.

"Keep it?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

You don't go back to your place first. He takes you to dinner first. It's nothing fancy but it's a nice enough place that doesn't need a reservation. You drink nice wine and talk about nothing in particular but none of it has to do with work. In some ways, it feels like a first date if you didn't already know so much about him; what moves him, what makes him laugh, what makes him tick. At the same time, you know so little; where he's from, why is he in this business, what hurts him. You suppose it's the same for him with you.

You don't talk about those things. Too heavy for a first date and whatever else you are. You end up in the back of his car with the rain pelting down. You're under him, pushing off layers and wrapping yourself around him, mouth on his Adam’s apple like you mean to take a bite of it. Alex pushes the skirt of your dress up. It’s a messy thing, hasty, a necessity. You make these sounds, hitched gasps and keening moans, rolling your hips up to match the beat of whatever tune his making with the rhythm of his hips.

You press a light kiss on the soft skin underneath his lips, and push his hand down further, placing his fingers on top of your core. You hiss from the coldness of his hands.

His cock moves in and out of you. It's slower than usual. You're unsure if it's from the tight setting you're in or the moment you're stuck in. It's more romantic than usual, even if you're stuffed into a tiny backseat.

Alex is leaning over and pulling you, and covering your mouth with his, his soft lips swallowing your moan. You kiss softly for a few moments. He breaks, letting out, "Fuck."

Finding the angle a bit difficult, he grabs your hips tilting them up more so he can drive into you better. He leans over you and connects your mouths, swallowing each other's moans again.

Your hands thread through his soft hair, massaging his scalp before they drop down to his back, your fingertips trailing delicately along his sweaty skin. You love feeling the muscles in Alex's back straining as he fucks you, the way they tense each time he thrusts his cock deep inside you, hitting you just where you need it, pulling him just where he needs it. Your chests are flush together. You can feel each other's hearts pounding, the redness in your skins turning to fire.

He smiles into your kiss as you hook your legs around him, digging your heels into his ass and pulling him deeper into you each time he barrels down. He can never seem to go deep enough, always wanting more, more, more.

He picks up his pace as he watches you, his hips rocking into you as you both edge closer and closer. "I'm so close," he moans, releasing your lip and opening his eyes to find yours.

"Come for me," you urge.

You buck up into him, desperate to come but even more desperate for him to come. "Oh fuck," he cries out. His thrusts start to get jerky as you tighten around his cock.

He only lasts a few more thrusts before he lets go inside you, something habitual now. He moans as he empties himself, feeling you wrap your legs around his waist and lock him in place as he continues to spill.

You feel yourself come undone and it's uncontrollable as you hold tight onto him, wanting to do everything possible to keep him close. "Fuck," he lets out like a statement. With a chuckle, he tells you, "We couldn't even make it back to your fucking flat."

a/n: so, i think this is a series now because i have like two ideas for two more parts so if you guys want it i'll do it. thanks!

#alex turner fic #alex turner x fem!reader #alex turner x oc #alex turner x reader #alex turner x y/n #alex turner x you #alex turner smut #junedenim #alex turner

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satorisoup · 1 day

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⌗ 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘, 𝐁𝐎 ! ⁝ ( ᰔ )

— timeskip! koutaro bokuto

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ﾉ fluff. one mention of pregnancy (facepalm). bokuto seems to be a bit forgetful.

𝐖𝐂 ﾉ 833

the blinking bedside lamp reads 7:00am, september 20th. it’s your husbands birthday today, and you’re sure he’d love to sleep in after all of the training he’s been doing. you snuggle closer into the radiant heat beside you, enjoying the morning silence before the events of today, until you’re not.

you’re abruptly interrupted by none other than your husbands loud, rather obnoxious alarm. it dings and shouts, and bokuto moves to slide out of bed with a groan.

perhaps he’s just going to the bathroom.

you wait patiently for his return, until about 15 minutes go by and your hair is swept away from your forehead, a pair of lips replacing it.

“… kou ? ”

bokuto seems almost upset with himself that he had woken you. unbeknownst to him, you had already been awake, lying down in confusion.

“ crap— i’m sorry baby. im off to practice, kay ? ”

your eyes shoot open at that, only for your worries to be answered, bokuto was indeed dressed in his practice uniform, gym bag swung over his shoulder.

“ what ? kou— you don’t have practice. they canceled it for today, didn’t you know ? ”

he reels back, almost distraught with the pout that adorns his face.

“ huh ? why would they cancel practice ?! i was supposed to help shoyo learn my cross-shots ! ”

“ because it’s an important day ! why wouldn’t they do that ? you want to practice today ? ”

“ what’s more important than that ! did i forget an anniversary ?! ”

it hits you at the same time the morning sun rises, your lawfully wedded has forgotten his own birthday. you mentally want to facepalm at bokuto for his forgetfulness, so incredibly eager to practice, but you’re dawned with the humorous fact that this is just so him.

and maybe it wouldn’t hurt to play along for now.

you’re now at the grocery store to buy food and some treats, beer and cake, for the birthday party you had planned at your house tonight. bokuto, the birthday boy in question, strolls beside you absolutely oblivious. maybe by now he’d of caught on.

“ what do we need a cake for ? ”

or maybe not.

you’d already sent a text to everyone invited tonight telling them of your current situation, and all agreed to act completely casual until your husband would eventually come to his senses.

you’re now preparing food, cutting up slices of prosciutto as atsumu pops a grape into his mouth.

“ you married n’ airhead, y’know ”

and yes, you do know, you’re sure of it. bokuto suspected absolutely nothing from the friendly visit of his teammate, and nothing by the arrival of 10 more of his closest friends.

perhaps akaashi’s arrival would make him suspect this is definitely more than just a regular get together, considering akaashi is usually never able to take a break from work for these kinds of things.

there’s a loud slap heard from a hand colliding with akaashi’s back, and bokuto’s bright smile is in view.

“ man, did all of you miss me or what ? ”

or perhaps not.

there’s a gift pile that grows with the more people that show up, and bokuto doesn’t even realize it until it’s practically overloading the table.

“ what’s with all the gifts ? ”

he stands next to you, glancing at it once, twice, before his entire face pales and drops into one of pure shock.

this is it. you’ve got him.

“ oh my god— is this a baby shower ? babe— are you pregnant ?! put that beer down ! ”

after you reveal that you are in fact not pregnant, you can tell that bokuto’s visibly becoming more confused and skeptical. his brow is quirked up into a questioning arch, and his arms are crossed over his puffed chest.

not one single person has cracked into spilling the so called “ secret ”, and you decide that your husband truly doesn’t understand what is going on.

kuroo then sits bokuto down into a chair, holding his shoulder as all of his friends gather around. he’s unable to see you in his linesight, only viewing the many cameras that are now pointing to him.

“ is there something on my face ? ”

and it’s not until you round the corner, holding tightly to a cake with candles and setting it down in front of him, that you let it slip.

“ happy birthday, bo. ”

the cheers that erupt from his friends and the kiss on his cheek from you is all bokuto needs for his face to form into a wide smile, blowing out his candles in a final realization as he bellows in a loud laughter.

“ whoops ! happy birthday to me ! ”

no, you didn’t even have to plan a surprise party, because being married to bokuto koutaro is a surprise in it of itself.

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skrrts · 2 months

Text

heart art & rain (drabble)

✧ gn!reader x hongjoong ✧ genre: non idol, slice of life, fluff, dating ✧ word count: 774

You surprise Hongjoong with a cake & chalk hearts to celebrate your first anniversary together.

a/n: another part of me practicing to write under 1k words. today's suggestion was "hj & anniversary fluff." hope you like it 💕

As a child, your teachers would scold you for covering your school papers with little hearts and stars, but now as an adult, you looked proudly at the perfectly shaped twelve chalk hearts you had spent the last thirty minutes drawing. Each one symbolized a month you shared with Hongjoong since the two of you started dating — a big deal for you.

He didn’t know you were about to pick him up from his private lessons. Officially, the two of you planned to meet at the park to look the local cherry blossoms together and buy some snacks on the way. You checked the time again and pulled out the box with the little cake you baked with the help of your mom. It was decorated with hearts, a ‘happy first anniversary,’ and a squirrel made of marzipan.

When you sent Mingi a photo, he teased you that it looked more like a dog, but you were confident your boyfriend would know.

You inhaled deeply, trying to calm your racing heart because this was a little sappy, and you couldn’t change but feel embarrassed. It didn’t help that a woman came out first, giving you a frown before she walked off to her car.

A few minutes passed, and you stood there somewhat lost with your cake before finally, the guy who stole your heart stepped out.

“Surprise,” you called, holding the cake more forward.

Hongjoong stood there, confused for a moment, but as always, it quickly changed to excitement and surprise as he walked over to you.

“Y/N! What are you doing here? I thought we were meeting at the park?” he chuckled, his eyes looking fondly at you before paying attention to the hearts on the street and your cake.

It wasn’t a secret that cooking wasn’t something you enjoyed; spending time baking was likely proof of your love.

“You are so cute, you know! I’d love to take a photo, but you will pout at me, won’t you?” Hongjoong teased, pressing a kiss on your cheek.

“Yes, because you will post it in your friend group chats, and that’s so embarrassing,” you mumbled a little.

“I just like to make them jealous; nothing wrong with bragging about how cute and amazing my significant other is.”

It was hard to resist him with that excited smile that never failed to get to you, and you carefully handed the cake to him.

“Mom helped me a little, no reason to brag there, but we went with your favorite flavors and all of that! I brought forks too; we can eat it under the cherry trees.”

Hongjoong, a born artist, carefully moved the cake in his hands, and you could feel how you got a little nervous, but after a moment he nodded.

“Let’s hope there won’t be any angry squirrels; they might be confused why I eat one of theirs. This looks quite like the one I met the other day there."

You chuckled and shook your head as you placed the cake back into the box and looked at him. “I am sure they would understand.”

Hongjoong rested his hand against your cheek. “I am sure they will. Maybe they are more jealous than scared. How many people get hearts and a cake for their first anniversary? Even more so since you are all mine, best gift ever..”

Now there was his teasing grin, and he pulled you closer.

“I loved this surprise, thank you, Y/N. In six months, it’s my turn. I promise I’ll make it something special.”

As you were about to kiss, drops of rain suddenly fell from the sky. They didn’t announce that change in the weather at all. So mean! Couldn’t it have waited just a few more hours?

You looked with disappointment as your hearts were washed away, but suddenly, an umbrella opened over your head, and Hongjoong smiled at you.

“Sounds like you finally get an excuse today to cling tightly to my arm while we go for a romantic walk — just the two of us, a little bit of rain, and cherry blossoms. We will definitely look better than all those people on the TV.”

“I love the sound of that,” you smiled and curled your arms around him, making sure your bag was tucked underneath the umbrella. Hongjoong kissed your lips for a moment before the two of you walked down the road leading to the park.

And while everyone was rushing, trying to escape the rain, the two of you took all the time in the world, in your little bubble where a little bit of rain was more enjoyable than annoying.

#hongjoong x reader #hongjoong x you #ateez x reader #ateez drabble #ateez scenarios #ateez au #ateez writing #hj tag #ateez fluff #hongjoong fluff #reis writes #hongjoong drabble

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bun-z-bakery · 3 months

Note

what if dogday got into baking? , maybe you could try writing about him learning to baking stuff?

✧. ┊𝑊ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝛢𝑤𝑎𝑦

A/N: This was such a cute ask! I hope you enjoy! This ones short but still sweet!^^

Making sure Dogday was out of the kitchen was your top priority during mealtimes.

You know he means well, but you didn't want to run the risk of him breaking more plates or setting anything on fire… again.

You sat outside on the grass, enjoying the fresh air and nice breeze on your skin.

Dogday decided to sleep in, Poppy and Kissy wandered around looking for flowers which meant you had some much needed alone time.

The sound of pots crashing made you jump to your feet. Quickly you rushed inside and called out for Dogday.

“I-In here.”

You rush to the kitchen, stopping at the doorway as you take in the mess.

“Angel, before you get mad-”

You couldn't help but laugh.

Dogday stares at you with a confused expression and tilts his head.

As much as you wanted to, you couldn't be mad when he's covered in flour and holding a tiny whisk in his giant hand.

“Anddd what have you been up to?”

You snort as you get closer and dust some flour off of his nose.

“Angel I'm sorry, I'll help you clean up…”

He sighs in defeat.

You noticed he was standing oddly and quickly tickled his sides, making him squirm in the process.

“Dogday what's this?”

You hold up the baking book you never remembered buying.

It was slightly sticky from the batter but the pages were still very noticeably new.

“it gets boring here… And wanted to learn something that might lessen some of your responsibilities…”

He looks like a puppy that's being reprimanded. You couldn't help but chuckle.

Adorable.

You thought to yourself.

“Dogday I'm not mad I'm happy you're trying something new! A $20 book on the other hand-”

“$20?!”

“Tell you what,”

You skim through the pages while he curiously hovers over you. You slam your finger down on the page that had the most delicious looking cake in the photo reference.

“Make this and if it tastes good then I'll let you off the hook!”

Your proposition seemed to have made him perk up.

He grabs onto his tail to avoid any more damage to the kitchen.

“Alright deal! Let me work my magic.”

He points the comically tiny whisk at you and you raise your hands in defeat.

“Alright alright, I'll be on standby.”

You joke as you leave him to his experiment.

Throughout his time in the kitchen, the sound of pots and spoons falling and the smell of something burning made you question if letting him bake would lead to a house fire.

“Sunshine, how's it go-”

You look around the kitchen, your mouth agape.

“You act like I don't clean up after myself.”

He shakes his head in disbelief with the little faith you had in him.

The kitchen was almost spotless, impressive was an understatement.

He motions towards the cake he had made and calls out to the others for a taste.

“Wow it smells great Dogday!”

Poppy exclaims as soon as she and Kissy walk in.

“It does smell pretty promising!”

You agree before taking a seat at the table.

Once everyone is served and seated, you begin to inspect the cake. It seemed well made and you were eager to taste it now.

“Alright on the count of 3!”

You say as you four hold a piece of cake near your mouths.

“3,2,1!”

“...”

“It's… good?”

Your words instantly shift his mood.

His tail begins to wag as he continues to eat his slice.

“Does this mean I can help out in the kitchen?!”

Dogday’s eyes light up. Seeing him heartbroken after such an accomplishment would crush you.

“Fine, if you can keep the mess to a minimum.”

“Deal!”

A/N: I got my PC back!! this is my first post using my pc and wow is it 10 times easier than on my phone. I've been a bit busy recently but keep sending in requests! I'm still working on a few projects and will post them hopefully soon! If you read this far dont forget to reblog and like <3

#Dogday x reader #dogday x y/n #sunnyangel #dogday #poppy playtime #poppy playtime x reader #Smiling critters dogday #bun z receipt #I wanna write more of dogday doing domestic stuff #i love him so much sksks

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avastrasposts · 9 months

Text

A Baker's Dozen - Four

Twelve Pedro boys, twelve stand alone short stories, all set in the same bakery.

Hello!

I kinda figured you all would like Joel's visit to the bakery! Handy man Joel with his green plaid flannel shirt and tool belt... 🥰

This week's Pedro boy is actually forcing me to adjust the warning level, things get a bit spicier than usual with this one around and I think you'll understand when you see who it is....

Series Master List

The little bakery is buzzing with customers this warm summer evening, you’re serving everyone as fast as possible, cursing the stomach bug that had put the kid who worked extra out of commission for the week. As you ring up two slices of lemon meringue pie for Mrs Callahan from down the street, you notice the buzz increasing in the shop, almost like a wave of excitement. You glance towards the door to see if you can spot the source of the commotion and see a tall, proud looking, man closing it behind himself. His rich yellow jacket is all you have time to notice before you’re pulled back to Mrs Jones asking about the amount of sugar in the Millionaire’s Shortbread (a lot, you assure her, no, it’s not healthy just because it contains peanuts).

You lose track of the stranger as you work your way through the long line, finally looking up to realize he’s the only one left in the shop, except for little Mrs Levinson who is just stepping through the door. The man gallantly takes a step back and indicates with his outstretched hand that she should be served before him.

“Please, my lady, I would be offended if you insisted on waiting behind me.”

He has an accent that you can’t place, vaguely Mediterranean maybe, and clearly very good manners. Mrs Levinson gives him a pleased smile and steps up to the counter to buy her regular weekend dark rye loaf, six chocolate chip cookies and one whole apple and cinnamon crumb coffee cake.

“The grandchildren are visiting on Sunday, and they love your cookies, dear,” she informs you, “the mother just doesn’t know how to bake, why my son married a woman who can’t cook or bake I will never understand.”

“I’m sure she has many other good qualities and skills, Mrs Levinson,” you smile, this is a weekly complaint.

“He should’ve married you, dear, how you are still single is beyond me, such a talented girl in the kitchen,” she pats your hand as she hands over her purse for you to count out what she owes. “But Mrs Pike’s son is single, recently divorced, I’ll make sure she sends him here to buy something, he’s such a lovely boy.”

“Thank you, Mrs Levinson, but I don’t need to be set up, I barely have time to run this bakery, I don’t have time for dating.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll find time, my dear,” she winks at you and gives the dark haired man behind her another wink as she turns to leave.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” you say to him as the door closes behind Mrs Levinson.

“No trouble, my lady, I was more than delighted to enjoy the view of such a talented girl,” he says with a confident smile, sauntering over towards the counter.

Now that he’s not hidden by the crowd you can see that he is in fact wearing a long robe, reaching down below his knees. But that’s not where your eyes are drawn, instead you find yourself actively trying not to stare at the deep v of bare, tan skin visible where his robe sits open, adorned by an expensive looking necklace. You pull your eyes up to his face, putting on your customer smile, and mentally slapping yourself.

“What can I help you with today, sir?”

At your words you see his mouth quirk in a wicked grin and his eyes wander over as much of you as he can see behind the counter. Ordinarily you’d be somewhat offended by such blatant staring but…considering your own struggle to not gawk at him, if feels admissible.

“I’m sure you can help me with a great many things, my lady,” he says, the lilt in his voice fitting his strange clothes, and the double meaning isn’t lost on you. You raise an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms.

“Really?” you challenge, “And what else but baked goods do you enter a bakery for?”

“Depends on the girl, or the woman, working in the bakery,” he smirks, “when the lady of the bakery is as beautiful as you, I’d like to buy a great many other things than her cakes.”

This line makes you roll your eyes so far back into your head you think they might get stuck there.

“You really think coming into a bakery and suggesting prostitution to the woman who works there is going to win you any favors?”

Now it’s the man’s turn to raise his eyebrows and look surprised for a moment, then he bends his head, bowing deeply to you.

“My lady, I did not wish to offend you at all, I was not suggesting that I would buy any such services from you. Rather I was, badly I’m sure, suggesting that I would like to buy such a beautiful lady gifts, rather than just buying her cakes.”

He looks up at you, his handsome face giving you an apologetic smile, “Please, truly, I did not mean to offend you.”

“Alright, I believe you for now,” you reply, accepting his apology with a slight scowl, “So what can I help you with? In the baked goods department,” you emphasize, waving over towards the display cases.

“I have this,” he says, pulling a bottle of wine from the satchel he has hanging at his side, “it’s cold and delicious on this warm day, but I would like to have something to eat with it. And I saw that you have these,” he points to one of the bags of lemon and almond biscotti in your display case. “They remind me of the small cakes we have back in my city, Sunspear. Will you please let me buy a bag of them?”

“Of course,” you reply, reaching for the biscotti, “Anything else?”

“An hour of your company?” he says, smoothly, with a smile, “But I won’t offer to pay for it, just beg that you will join me with this wine, and your lovely cakes, as a small apology for offending you.”

You look at the man standing on the other side of the counter. His confident smirk has been replaced by an apologetic smile, his arms outstretched as if he’s holding himself open for you to review and decide upon. You glance at the clock on the wall, fifteen minutes to closing but the foot traffic outside on the street has trickled down to nothing, everyone is on their way home to enjoy the last of the warm sunshine. It won’t be the end of the world if you close up a few minutes early today. And this man does intrigue you, with his accent and his strange clothes.

“Ok, fine,” you say, “An hour, but I have no wine glasses.”

“My sweet lady of the bakery, I’m sure I will survive without glasses, as long as I have your company to keep me distracted,” he winks at you and his demeanor changes back into confidence once again as you wave him behind the counter.

“C’mon then, we can sit out back, but only on the stairs I’m afraid.”

“I have sat on much worse in my days, I assure you,” he chuckles, “even a prince of Dorne can’t expect to sit only on feather pillows every hour of his life.”

“You’re a prince?” you ask but it really doesn’t surprise you. He looks every bit like a prince from some exotic country you’ve never heard of.

“Prince Oberyn Martell, my lady,” he says, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it, “It is my pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise, I’m sure,” you smirk, his over the top chivalry is making your inner rebel come out, and you gladly direct him to the somewhat crumbling back stairs, fishing a bottle opener out of a drawer on the way. Drinking wine from the bottle on the back stairs, overlooking the trash cans and patchy grass that lines the dingy alley behind your bakery, is probably not something a prince usually does.

Oberyn is looking around the area outside the door as you bring the bottle opener and the biscotti.

“Wait a moment,” he says, holding up his hand to you before he unbuckles the belt that’s holding his robe together, and dropping it on the ground. He shrugs out of the robe and shakes it out, spreading the luxurious looking fabric out over the steps and then holding out his hand for you.

“Please, my lady,” he says, “it will be a little bit more comfortable for you than sitting on the cold stone.”

“No, but your robe, it’ll be ruined,” you protest, but he shakes his head, “It’s nothing, just a little dust. Do not think me such a feeble prince that I am above getting a little bit dirty.” With his last word he winks at you with a smile, and you can’t help but smile back, taking his hand.

“I don’t know what kind of prince you are, I’ve never even heard of Dorne.”

He lets go of your hand as you settle on the top step and he sits himself on the one below, taking the bottle opener from you.

“Dorne is a beautiful country, warm, much warmer than here, surrounded by turquoise blue ocean, white beaches and fragrant lemon groves,” he says, “And my home, the city of Sunspear, is the world’s most beautiful city, colorful, richly decorated, cooled from the hot sun by our water gardens and palm trees. It is ruled by my brother, the king. I am my father’s second son, fortunately enough for me, for I would’ve made a terrible king.”

He smiles as he speaks of his home, a warm smile, as he pulls the cork from the wine bottle.

“Ladies first,” he says and holds the bottle out to you, you accept it, taking a sip of the cool white wine. It really is delicious; crisp, fresh and an undertone of a rich, buttery flavor.

“This is very nice wine,” you say, giving the bottle back to him and he smiles.

“Made all that much better by the company.”

“Cheesy, but I appreciate the effort,” you grin and he looks confused, lowering the bottle that he was just about to drink from. “Cheesy?” he asks, his eyebrow raised in question.

“Yeah, you know, ‘cheesy’, when something is lame, or over the top, corny?”

“I assure you, my lady, I did not intend to be over the top with my compliment, if anything, it was not enough,” he smiles warmly at you, and you feel butterflies in the pit of your belly. Either the wine is working very fast, or this strange man and his flirtatious way is getting to you.

“I could say so much more about your beauty and the joy it is to spend a warm summer evening in your company with good wine and delicious cakes,” Oberyn’s eyes are glinting as he watches you squirm and he takes a sip from the bottle.

You feel your cheeks heat up and you drop your eyes to your hands, suddenly feeling very flustered by his flattery, distracting yourself by picking at some dry dough caught on your nail.

“Oh, the biscuits!” he exclaims suddenly and stands up, “We need just a…” he disappears into the kitchen and you look up as he turns around, scanning the shelves before he finds what he’s looking for, “Ah! Just what we need!” he says and returns to the steps, sinking down next to you again with a small bowl in his hand. “The biscuits are to be dipped in the wine, to soak up its delicious flavor and blend with the sweetness.”

He demonstrates by pouring some of the wine into the bowl and taking the bag of biscuits from you, opening it up. He takes one of the biscotti and dips the end in the wine, letting it sit for a few seconds before taking a bite.

His eyes hold yours as he slowly chews the biscotti, humming slightly under his breath. “My sweet lady, this is exquisite,” he says, awe in his voice once he’s swallowed. “I would hire you as my own personal baker any day, would you wish to leave these premises.”

“Thank you for the offer, that’s very generous,” you say, taking one of the biscuits and dipping it in the wine, copying Oberyn, “but I like running my own business.”

As you bite into the biscotti you hold back a moan, you’ve never tried this before but now you understand why he insisted, the crunchy biscotti has softened slightly and been filled with the crips flavors of the wine, the lemon and almond adding to the complexity.

“This is really good, Oberyn,” you smile, taking the second half, “Thank you for introducing me to it.”

“It was all my pleasure, my lady,” he replies, leaning back against the stairs and taking a sip of the wine from the bottle. When he tilts his head back, his long neck is exposed, even more now when he’s only wearing his shirt, a smattering of freckles on his tanned skin, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. It occurs to you that the man exudes confidence in everything he does, even the way he brings the bottle back down, handing it to you with a small, crooked smile, the way he’s leaning on one elbow against the step just above him, long legs stretched out comfortably in his soft looking leather boots, utterly relaxed even on the crumbling back stairs.

You take the bottle from him and take another sip, the cool wine slipping down far too easily. From the corner of your eye you see Oberyn take another biscotti and dip it into the wine, his eyes flicking up to meet yours. With a small smirk he puts the biscuit in his mouth, closing his soft looking lips around it, sucking lightly while he lets his eyes linger on you. You feel heat creep up your throat, there is such promise in his eyes, such a challenge in his flirting. It’s like he’s daring you to flirt back, to push him just a little to see how he reacts. You feel a familiar heat spread through your core, a temptation to entice him. But his confidence, just the way he takes the bottle from your hand, his long fingers caressing yours with intent, almost intimidates you. If you flirt with him, even just a little bit, you think he might challenge you even more, see how far you’re willing to go, and you’re not sure you can trust your body to resist. His easy assertiveness, the way he leans back against the stairs, his hand now resting just an inch from your waist, it both unnerves you and makes arousal thrum under your skin.

With a slight tremble to your hand, you take the bottle again and take another sip, bigger this time and it goes down the wrong way, your nerves getting the better of you. With a cough you splutter into the crook of your elbow, your eyes watering. The prince shoots up and immediately puts his hand on your back, patting you lightly a few times before he begins to rub circles between your shoulder blades.

“Careful there, my lady, are you all right?” His eyebrows have pulled together in concern and he leans forward, looking at your face. You feel the tears that formed spill over and roll down your cheeks as you cough a few more times.

“Y-yes, yes, I-I think so, thank you,” you finally say with a croaky voice, “it just went down the wrong way.”

Taking a deep breath, you almost choke again when Oberyn gently cups your face with his large hands and wipes the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, softly running them under your eyes.

“Can I fetch you some water?” he asks, his voice low and concerned, but you shake your head.

“No, thank you, I’m ok now,” you say, taking a steadying breath. He’s so very close now, looking into your eyes with a soft smile and you notice how one of his eyes is made amber by the evening sunlight, the other dark chocolate brown, half hidden in shadow. You feel like your brain is spinning in place, wheels turning but not moving forward, as you’re unable to tear your eyes away from his intense gaze. His hands are still on your cheeks, warm and soft even though you can feel the rough calluses on his palms.

His eyes finally leave yours, only to very slowly move down to your lips, holding his gaze there for several seconds before he looks back up again. His face transforms into a more roguish smile and he drops his hands from your face, moving to pick up another biscotti and dipping it into the wine.

“My lady, please,” he says, holding it up to you, one hand cupped under it to catch any drops of wine, as he offers it to you, holding it by your lips.

You don’t know why, but you obediently open your mouth, letting him feed you the biscotti, tasting the tang of the wine and the sweetness of the sugar as you break it off in the middle. The tip of Oberyn’s tongue comes out to wet his lips as he watches you swallow it down, and then he dips the second half in the wine again, and places it between his own lips. All the while his eyes never leave yours.

The corner of his mouth pulls up in a crooked smile, and he leans back against the door frame, crossing his arms over his lap.

“I would kiss you, if you asked me too,” he says, matter of factly, “if you want me too.”

You reach for the wine bottle to distract yourself while you calm your beating heart, keeping your eyes on him, that smirk still lingering on his lips as he watches you take a small, controlled sip, this time.

You pour some more wine into the bowl and place the bottle on the top step, reaching for another biscotti and making up your mind. Dipping the delicate biscuit in the wine you look up at Oberyn, holding his gaze while you bring it up to his mouth, mimicking his gesture of cupping your hand under it. A wicked smile flickers across his face as he obediently opens his mouth and takes the biscotti. But he doesn’t bite it in half, instead he leans forward and closes his lips around your fingertips, his tongue licking at them as he takes the whole thing into his mouth. It’s warm and wet around your fingers and he gently sucks on them as he pulls back, a low hum escaping his throat. The touch of his tongue shoots a jolt of electricity through your body, settling firmly between your legs and your breath hitches.

Oberyn swallows the biscuit and takes your hand, bringing it to his mouth again, with his eyes locked on yours he takes each finger between his lips and sucks them clean. When your pinky leaves his lips he moves forward, taking your chin between his thumb and finger, holding you steady, your heart beating its own erratic rhythm in your chest.

“I would kiss you, if you asked me too,” he repeats, looking from your eyes to your lips and up again.

You don’t trust your voice, so instead you inhale, his warm scent; oranges, cinnamon, sandalwood, filling your nose, and you lean forward. He doesn’t smile this time, instead he mirrors your movement until your lips brush, your heads tilting ever so slightly to come closer together, mouths angeling as he presses a soft, gentle, explorative kiss to your tingling lips. Warm hands slip up your neck, into your hair, large enough to cup the back of your head as his thumbs stroke your cheeks.

His next kiss is more insistent, his lips parting to taste with the tip of his soft tongue, licking the seam of your mouth. Your body seems to have lost all will to follow your head, it just moves as he moves you, pulling you closer to his lips, opening up to his tongue, letting him slip inside and explore, tangelling together as he tangles his hands in your hair, making you lean closer into him. Without knowing how you got there, you find yourself sitting on his lap, his hand finding your thigh and pulling your leg over. When he puts his hands on your hips and slides your body closer to his, your mind goes blank and you moan into his mouth. He’s distinctly hard underneath you, the thin fabric of his trousers doing nothing to hide the firm length of his cock, and he groans with delight as you roll your hips over him.

“Sweet thing,” he whispers, his lips momentarily leaving yours, “sweet, sweet lady, I knew your kisses would be as sweet as your cakes.” His fingers dig into your hips, his mouth pressing firmer against yours as he sucks on the tip of your tongue, pulling back just a fraction and trailing kisses and bites over your jaw, down your throat, pushing back your t-shirt to suck a mark into your collar bone, making you keen and whimper under his warm mouth.

“I wonder if you’re as sweet everywhere,” he mumbles, fingers digging into your hips and dragging you over his heavy length, straining against his trousers, “I would very much like to find out.”

You lean your head back, exposing your throat to him as he continues to kiss and lick the soft skin of your neck, heat is building rapidly in your body and for a second you feel as if you’re looking down on yourself from above. Straddling the handsome prince on the stairs, sitting on his golden yellow robe, his face buried against your neck, his hands rolling your hips over his erection as you pant to the darkening sky above. With a groan you put your hands on his shoulders and push away, stumbling back onto your feet.

“You’re dangerous to be around, Oberyn,” you pant as his hands slip away from your hips. His mouth hangs open as he reaches for you. In the dimming light you can see the prominent bulge of his trousers, it makes your mouth water, the image of sliding down over it coming unbidden to your mind.

“It’s just pleasure,” he says, his voice dark and mischievous, “no guilt to be had over feeling pleasure.”

“No, but I’m not about to have sex with a stranger on the back steps of my bakery,” you say, taking a deep breath, running your hands over your head, down your face, to ground yourself again.

“Well, then the question beckons to be asked,” Oberyn grins, “where would you have sex with a stranger?”

“I don’t have sex with strangers,” you say, shaking your head and quickly stepping past him, into the kitchen again. Behind you, you hear him get up and pick up the bottle, the remaining biscuits and the bowl. Placing them on the counter inside the door he follows you out to the shop as he slips his robe back on, where you unlock the door and wait for him to approach. A big part of you doesn't want him to leave, but you know that if you let him stay, he’ll have you naked on one of the counters within minutes, your body will betray you and let him do whatever he wants.

“If you let me, I would like to not be a stranger to you,” Oberyn says as he reaches you by the door, “Would you let me come back and take you out, maybe show you Sunspear, my city?”

“Show me the life of a prince?” you ask, you doubt you’ll see him again once he leaves, “Sure, come back and show me another side of yourself, and I’ll consider whether or not I want you to be a stranger.”

“You don’t think I’ll come back,” he replies, a crooked smile on his lips, “have I made such a flighty impression on you, such a poor representation of who I am?” He chuckles, taking your hand and bowing low, pressing a feather light kiss to it.

“I promise, my sweet lady of the bakery, I will come back and I will show you the true colors of a prince of Dorne. Until then I will keep your honeyed kisses close in my memory.”

He opens the front door and steps through it, before turning and smiling back at you, “And I’ll keep your delicious moans even closer on lonely nights.”

You feel heat rise in your cheeks again as he winks, a mischievous smirk on his face, before he bow lows again and disappears down the street.

Part Five

Tag list: @harriedandharassed @inept-the-magnificent @sheepdogchick3 @readingiskeepingmegoing @noisynightmarepoetry @survivingandenduring @vabeachazn @amyispxnk @oberynslady @vabeachazn

#pedro pascal character fanfiction #oberyn martell #oberyn x reader #oberyn x you #game of thrones #a bakers dozen #pedrostories

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weird-an · 1 year

Text

Steve shouldn't care about Billy Hargrove, should have long forgotten about him. Vecna and all the other monsters are long gone, three years of the baseball bat catching dust. He knows Billy somehow survived Starcourt, spent nearly a year in the hospital and then fucked off with hush money back to California.

Steve only sometimes hears from Max about him and he doesn't care. He just happens to have followed Robin to San Diego, because he had no idea what to do with his life. Much to his father's dismay, he's still making coffee and waiting tables, but much to his own surprise he's rather happy.

It's just one thing concerning Billy. One gigantic thing. A billboard, just across the café he's working at. Billy Hargrove, stretched out on some rocks by the ocean, glittering water drops caught in his lashes, running down his abs. His hair is wet, curls slicked back a little. Scars thin and mottled across his chest, pale against the tan on his skin. Biggest bedroom eyes ever.

An advertising for fucking aftershave, tormenting Steve every day - in the worst and best way.

Because Billy looks fucking hot. Because Steve wants to lick off the water and maybe also didn't need to put on some porn to jerk off, because his phone is a traitor too and now all the ads on there are showing him Billy fucking Hargrove. Steve wants to hate it, but his dick loves it.

Maybe Steve is so distracted by the billboard or the phone or the customer that changed his coffee order for the fifth time now, he doesn't see it coming. Only chokes on his own spit when he looks up and sees who stands right in front of him.

"King Steve! In California!" Billy says, a wide grin on his lips. He looks even better than on the billboard. He's got more freckles and his curls are up in a bun. He still hasn't learned to button his shirt and he's fucking ripped. "One iced coffee with-"

Steve doesn't get the rest. He totally isn't getting a boner at work. He isn't a teenager anymore, that shouldn't fucking happen.

"Harrington?" Billy raises one brow, absolute glee shining in his eyes.

Oh. Right. Steve needs to work.

"You're on the billboard outside," he tells Billy instead of pretending he knows what coffee Billy wanted.

Billy glances over his shoulder and then back at Steve.

"Yeah. Do you like it, pretty boy?" He licks his teeth. "Can I have my co-"

"I'm paying for it," Steve blurts out.

Billy's smile turns unbelievably smug. "So, you like it that much?"

Steve's face grows hot. "It's a good aftershave."

Billy snickers. "Buy me a slice of cake and I can show you more photos from that shoot."

It's a mistake, Steve thinks.

"Cheesecake?" he hears himself ask. His dick seems to have different plans. Maybe there is a slight chance that he gets to see the real deal.

#steve doesn't have any selfrestraint #also billy as a model of davidoff ?!#harringrove #billy x steve #billy hargrove #harringrove ficlet #steve x billy

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eds6ngel · 1 year

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second idea: would just love something with a convo about alena calling reader her step-mom or mom, instead of ms. or maybe something with alena calling reader mom for the first time! just cute and fluffy💖

of course honey!! this one is short and sweet, but touching nonetheless ♡

warnings: dad!steve. mom!reader. fem!reader. 90s!au. swearing. food mentions. fluff. comfort. slight mentions of alena's trauma due to motherly neglect. lots of happy tears from alena and reader. this is just extremely cute and endearing really!! [1.3k].

full 'when i kissed the teacher' masterlist.

With Steve having to take on a weekend shift at Target, you tackled the weekly Sunday grocery store trip with Alena. Before leaving that morning, Steve gave you an overflowing list of groceries, more than he definitely needed.

“Why does your dad put so much on the list, baby? Like, watermelon. When has your dad ever eaten watermelon?” You were holding onto Alena’s small, soft hand, guiding her with you as you pushed the shopping cart with your left, slowly filling it up with each aisle you pass.

“I like watermelon!” she beams with a smile, you laughing as you reply, “But, not a whole watermelon! If you ate an entire watermelon, your belly would be this big.” You demonstrated by holding your hand out far away from her stomach, her gasping and going, “I would not be that big!”

Tsking with a squint of your eyes, you reply, “Oh, but I think you would, sweetpea! You would have a massive watermelon belly! Big ‘ol belly.”

The conversation with the eight-year-old slowly drifted away as you arrived at the cake aisle. She lets go of your hand, running over and jumping up and down, pointing up and shouting, “Look! A Smurfs cake! A Smurfs cake!”

You look down at her and raise your eyebrows, smirking, “So, instead of a watermelon belly, you want a cake belly?”

“Cake belly sounds better! Can I have the Smurfs cake mubba?”

You delicately lift the box, Papa Smurf stood proudly next to his daughter Smurfette, two huts perched in the background, other Smurfs going about their daily activities presented in different-coloured icings. Turning the box over, it read: ‘A jam and cream sponge, completed with edible icing for decoration.’

“I think…” you stroke your chin, “If we buy this cake, you have to be a good girl to your dad for the rest of the week, okay?”

“And to you! I’ll be a good girl for you too!”

You chuckle, ruffling her hair, “And for me, obviously,” playfully rolling your eyes and placing the cake into the cart, “Smurfs cake it is!”

“Yes!” Alena cheeses, gripping her fist tight and pulling them towards her chest in celebration.

The two of you continue walking down the aisles, having to make a pit-stop for longer than expected at the bread section. Steve had written down ‘loaf of bread’ on the list, but the endless piles of different brands, sizes and types left you in slight confusion. You had recognised that the Harringtons liked their white bread, an easy ignorance to the brown loaves. However, the size of the loaf was something you were unsure on. Since there were only two of them, perhaps three if you stayed overnight and needed a slice of toast for breakfast, you agreed with yourself on the smaller loaf. It was no worry if he indeed did usually buy the bigger loaf, you could always make a stop on your way home from work and pass it over to them.

“All right, Pepperidge Farm’s Hearty White Bread is what we’re going for! Does that sound all right with you Ale—” But, as you look down, the little girl is nowhere to be found. You peer down the aisle, a flowery, yellow dress and brunette pigtails out of sight. Your internal panic begins to rise, deciding to quick power back to the aisle you just visited, wondering if she waltzed back to the chocolate section.

But, you don’t see her. “Shit,” you mumble to yourself, deciding your next safest bet was two aisles down, the one after the bread aisle. “Steve’s gonna fucking kill me,” you curse lowly, scared to death that you had lost his daughter. However, before you can make a turn to the right, the end of your cart collides directly into an older woman, her wearing a simple, long black dress, glasses neatly sat on the bridge of her nose.

“I am so sorry—” you begin to profusely apologise, however, the sight of Alena held tightly on her hip makes you let out a lengthy sigh. Thank God she was safe.

But, the word that comes out of her mouth shocks you to your core. “Mommy!”

Mommy. She called you mommy.

“Don’t apologise my dear, it’s okay!” the old woman calms your presence, “I’m assuming this one is yours. Poor baby was scared to death. Said she went around the corner and when she came back, you were gone.”

It’s then that you notice the tears rolling down her face, lips quivering and her holding her arms out, as if she wanted you to grab her. And that was the moment you knew: you were her mom.

The old woman lifts Alena up, you gripping her to your side as you cradle her head, her tears falling onto your bare shoulder. “It’s okay. Mommy’s got you. Mommy’s got you, baby.”

As you look up, the woman is smiling at the pair of you as she says, “Don’t beat yourself up over it. It was a simple mistake, you seem like a wonderful mother.”

You nod, mouthing a small “Thank you” as she bids farewell, attending back to her own grocery shopping around the corner. You cup the back of Alena’s head, stroking her hair as she stares at you with her beautiful, hazel orbs, just like her dad’s. God, they looked so much alike.

“Mommy,” she whispers out, almost as if she said nothing. You smile, letting a few tears fall yourself as you murmur back at the same volume, “Yeah, I’m your mommy, baby.”

And that’s when the waterworks burst for her. Even though she has no recollection or memories of her biological mom, you could tell it still had some heartbreaking effect on her subconsciously. It was a trauma she had no idea existed. You were the first ever figure in her life that resembled a mother, that cared for her like a mother, that supported her like a mother. So, that’s what you were. No, step-mom, no adoptive mom, just mom.

And even though she was eight years old, you cradled her in your arms as if you were caring for a newborn whose emotions were simply too big for their small body. You press a tender kiss to the side of her head, wiping the tears away from her face, making sure the salty liquid doesn’t fall into her mouth, infecting her taste buds.

She whimpers out, “I-I love you, mommy.”

You didn’t realise until that moment what an emotional impact those four words would hold on you. You’ve always wanted to be a mom, ever since you were a little girl. You think that maternal instinct you seemed to have inherited lead you to wanting to become a teacher in the first place. Something about raising kids to become healthy, human adults made you feel warm inside. But, no teaching position could ever come close to feeling the real thing.

“I love you too, baby girl,” you smile back, the pair of you wetly giggling, Alena using her small thumbs to wipe the tears that escaped from your eyes, collecting in a tiny puddle in the middle of your cheeks. “Want to stay on my hip?”

She nods in reply, “Yes, mommy.” God, you were gonna have to get used to that.

“Okay,” you quietly reply, the two of you continuing down the halls of the grocery store, filling the cart with the remaining items that Steve wished you collected for him.

But, what really was the absolute, top-notch tear-jerker was later that night when Steve returned home from his shift, Alena shouted to you from the living room, “Mommy! Daddy’s home!”

And to see the look on Steve’s face, the one that was of pure shock, made the tears fall all over again. You weren’t just looking after Steve’s daughter anymore, you were her mom, and that was the greatest gift you could’ve ever been given.

i hope you enjoyed!! feel free to keep sending in asks for this series!! also, any general cute comments from my pretty af followers and readers is appreciated too!! ♡

taglist: @livsters @bakugouswh0r3 @nix-rose @ihatepeanutss @cats00089 @suitelif3 @clincallyonline17 @crowssixof @starkeylover @eris-rose-86 @frostandflamesfanfic

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #dad!steve harrington #dad!steve harrington x mom!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington comfort #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington drabble #stranger things #eds6ngel

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itstheghostofmypast · 6 months

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MOOT GAME: " make up a trope for your moots and their biases. doesn’t need to be romantic. can be crackfic/funny/anything you want ^ㅇ(๑>◡<๑)ㅇ^ "

Okay- so, first of all, thank you so much Anon, for this ask and I'm sorry I responded to late, but I had to take my time with this one.😭💖.

So here it goes, (i know i said i'd do two biases, im sorry guys, i love yall too much and i get too invested the word count was killing me)

1) @edenesth

Park Seonghwa- Rivals to Lovers

Here me out, he owns an old book shop across the street, he's been there longer than you too. This was his turf, his town, his people, people who loved to read in his cozy library, with its olden print books, worn out pages, read through by generations of the same family.

All was great until one spring she shows up, with her whole pastel plus minimalistic vibes, all with the cutesy trinkets and plants, with warm lights- he noticed some books too, but they were only for show- in conclusion it was a horrid place.

A horrid place where most teens would go to after school now, no longer going to his bookshop, where they'd gossip, read novels or mangas, or even look at pretty pictured magazines (the safe kind, mind you he kept nothing nasty). What's worse was that the older folk began to go there, too! Especially because of how nice she was to them, so polite and so pretty and - ANNOYING.

He even went to 'inspect' the place, with a sour mood and an ill intention, though he was greeted with a burst of sweet aroma, one that had his stomach growling and his inner foodie, begging him to pick at least one of the many pastries or have a cup of steaming, delicious coffee. What came next was worst, her, with her gentle smile and angelic features.

"Hello! Welcome to Spring Avenue, how may we help you today?"

"You're taking my traffic."

"I'm sorry, I don't understand."

"Of course you don't."

With that he had walked out, starting a cold war, between the two. Ironically, she was a pacifist, never a fighter, but boy, did he piss her off, he knew all those buttons that would have her steaming like a hot latte.

The war had begun;

It all began when he put a " 10% off sign on Mangas, Fashion Magazines and Manhwas" that took a god chunk of her traffic.

In retaliation, she launched a "Friendship campaign, any customer that brings a friend gets a cake slice free."

Spend 2 hours reading here and leave with a borrowed book/novel of your choice."

"Buy a coffee and get a cookie free."

This continued throughout the season, so did their rivalry, to an extent that led their divided customers sense the tension. And like usual, highschoolers are escapists and this little feud of Seonghwa and her's was a problem they'd like to avoid, from her cafe they could see their beloved bookshop owner Seonghwa scowl at them, and if they were leaving the bookshop, the kids could feel the uneasiness in her smile that she give them once they'd pass her by.

"Congratulations, you're in loss." She sighed, closing the file, earning a scowl from the cafe owner, "Hey, I'm just here to check your bills, loss, and profit stuff, don't shoot the messenger."

"Alexia, come on." She whined, this was her dream, she'd put in her life's savings for this, "What should I do, Lexi?"

"Gosh, maybe not give out stupid discounts four times in a month?" Alexia sighed, rubbing her face, leaning back to stare at the bookshop across the street, "San said he knows the owner, maybe you guys could do a collab, instead of trying to each other's traffic."

"Who's San?" She asked her best friend, slash account manager and Public Relations officer- wait, was she dating!?

"Oh- uh- hey would you look at the time?" Alexia got up, grabbing her disposable coffee cup and bag, "Tell you what, you ask the bookshop owner dude about this? Okay? I'll get back with the details on Monday!" She called out as she walked towards the door, ignoring the cafe owner's questions about this San, "BYE LOVE YOU!"

That's how she found herself standing Infront of his bookshop that evening, still debating if she should go in or not? Was this idea even worth it, the guy was rude, annoying, stupid, incredibly handsome and sweet with kids and- the hell.

"Can I help you?" His deep voice came out of no where

She almost jumped out of her skin, only to turn around and spot the man she had been hating for the past ten months, standing there in all his angleic glory, with that ugly sweater and that overly comfortable scarf, not to mention his hair, his undercut had grown, quiet well too, perhaps he really was blessed with good genes.

"I uh..." she trailed off, pouting to herself, thinking of how he'd react, maybe he would make fun of her, or insult her or even go as far as to tell the town about her poor business management skills.

"Are you still open?" his question had caught her off guard, staring at him quietly wanting to see if this was a trick, only it wasn't, for when she nodded, he had looked around and then asked if he could...get a cup of coffee from there.

Of course she had said yes, why on earth would she say no to a customer, she needed the business. Unfortunately, that one cup of coffee, turned into two, then three, well- not as unfortunate as she would like it to be.

The two, mind you, who still didnt like each other, began to learn a lot about each other. He learnt how she was genuinely a sweet, caring and gentle person, her persona was indeed not fake but very real, this is who she was. She on the other hand, learned that he had inherited this business from his family, and he was an avid reader- sort a geek, a cute geek, a cute geek that could eat a whole chocolate cake with three mugs off coffee like it was nothing.

It wasn't until the third week of him visiting her cafe, that when he had stepped out to go there, he had bumped into her. She had almost fallen, but he was quick, gripping her wrist and pulling her into his chest, only to laugh when she mumbled an excuse, though he was glad she couldn't hear how his heart was hammering against his chest, wanting to stuff itself in the breast pocket of her coat.

That day she had asked him if she could check out his book shop, because she had been looking for old English bakery recipes and she couldn't find it anywhere, not any store around or online. Of course he had taken her to the right isle, in the right section in no time, this bookshop was his life and collecting and sifting through books was his passion, that day he had seen her passion, she had sat there, on the floor the entire night, reading book after book, mumbling to herself as she noted down recipes. He had sat next to her, helping her jot down notes, bringing her coffee- well not as good as hers, but good enough. At one point he had even ordered them a late night snack, well snacks, because he's a growing boy. He had closed the shop with the two inside, even pulled out a blanket and some cushions from the lounging area so she could comfortably work- she was a passionate girl and ironically he had realised something that night, only it turned into a full blown epiphany in the morning.

Next morning she had woken up right next to him, her head on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around her as the blanket was draped over the two, they had fallen asleep while reading- oh my, he really was pretty up close.

Though the two pretended nothing had happened, nothing had changed, however, everyone around them had noticed, the highschoolers would giggle when he'd come to her cafe for a cup of coffee, or how the older folk would pat him on the back when she'd step into the bookshop calling him out for help, with her little, "Hwa?"

Neither really knew how it happened, but one night while closing up he had waited outside for her, telling her he'd drop her home, even though she lived close by. Slowly this had become part of their routine, he'd often talk about the latest manga or an issue to the Star Wars comics or whatever on earth he'd talk about, but she'd always listen. Always smile and laugh at his jokes, while he'd readily accept any test recipes she'd try, telling her that his stomach was like a blackhole.

But when do the two get together? Simple, on New Years Eve, when he had to close his shop but she had decided to leave her cafe open, wanting to cater to all those who were celebrating the arrival of the new year with their loved ones, she knew Seonghwa had to go home anyway and she didn't want to spend the night alone since her family was out of town. What she did not expect was a few minutes before the strike of midnight, the cafe door chimed open as she turned to greet the customer, only to freeze at the sight before her- Seonghwa entering with a bouqet of origami flowers, smiling at her as he slowly walked to her;

"I- I know you don't like plucking flowers or bouqets, so I made you these."

"You...made these?"

"Ofcourse."

"W-why?"

"I...because I..." but before he could finish his sentence his ears picked up the count down, causing him to quickly place the flowers on the counter and as soon as the fireworks rang in her ears, it was as if she could feel the burning warmth in her body, taking a second to process how his lips were on hers, his hands cupping her face as her hands instinctively went up to grip his coat, pulling him even closer. Who knew that one day she'll end up opening a cafe that also served as a bookstore, who knew that one day, her little, evil, handsome rival bookseller, would be the New Year's kiss she never knew she needed, the man she never knew she needed, the lover that she was blessed to have.

2) @yessa-vie

Jeong Yunho- Neighbors to Lovers

No, she was not the new tenant, he was, and for some ungodly reason he was also extremely ill-prepared to live alone. Like any other weekend, she was leaving her apartment to go to the cafe to sit in peace and finish her novel, but God had other plans. She had opened the door to come face to face with a tall, good-looking man, though the smile he wore scared her- he was one of those extroverts.

No, he was not mean at all, nor was he the manipulative kind, Jeong Yunho really didn't know how the pre-installed dishwasher worked, that's why he had come to her that fateful weekend, about to knock on the door but she had beat him to it, opening the door before he could, earning a sheepish smile in return- who knew his neighbour would be so gorgeous, who knew purple could look so good on someone?

"Hey, I- I moved in across the hall, apartment 19, lol, I guess we're neighbours, huh?"

She had only nodded meekly at his question, pulling her satchel closer to her person, not because she didn't like him, no, but because she wasn't much of a talker anymore, not so confident either and also- because regardless of how good looking this stranger was, he was still a stranger.

"I'm Yunho- Sorry to bother you, I know you must be going somewhere, but I- I uh- I wanted to know if you know how to operate the dishwasher?"

That's how she found herself in his apartment, leaving the maindoor wide open, so she could escape if something were to happen, but to her surprise he was just a regular idiot, one who thought the dishwasher was a rack used to dry the dishes- men.

That night Yunho met an angel, one who seemingly had her life planned out, held together well, while he was still trying to build something out of his- data analyst or not, living alone was not the easiest thing to do, yet, she seemed so nonchalant about it.

Overtime however, she noticed how he would come over to ask her for help often, sometimes it was the 'fridge isn't working right' other times it was the 'how much water do you add to rice while boiling it?' Honestly, she would've told him to piss off if it were anyone else, but it was her polite neighbour, her sweet polite, new neighbour who would pass her by in the corridor every morning, smiling at her and wishing her a good morning- even if she wasn't a morning person.

Ironically, he continued to ensure they cross paths, only because he wanted to get to know her, to talk to her, he really needed a friend, and since moving here meant Mingi and him could no longer hang out 24/7, he really needed another person to talk to, someone who was not Hongjoong from the finance department.

Ironically, she did not protest or tell him to get lost, instead she's quietly help him whenever he'd approach her, giving him a shy smile then going back to her apartment. That purple door tempting him to go back and knock on the old wood, wanting to know what Narnia like secrets she hid behind.

She let it be, truthfully, she wanted fo befriended him, but during these little adventures, she realised she had begun to neglect her book, the same book she had a deadline for, the same book she had been working on day and night, and now this puppy pops up and takes all her attention?

So what does she do? Simple, she starts to create some form of distance, leave before he'd be awake, come back home later too, also even if he did come to knock on her purple door, she wouldn't be there to answer it, so technically she wouldn't feel guilty right?

Wrong, instead God had punished her with a severe writer's block, one so bad that she had missed two of her deadlines, and according to her publisher, she was on her last chance. That's how she found herself at the very cafe where she would find solace, now on the verge of tears, staring at the laptop in pure agony, maybe this was payback for leaving him unattended and ignoring him or maybe she was never meant to be a writer.

A fresh cup of coffee was placed next to her hand, causing her to quickly pull back and look at the stranger, only her panicked eyes met a softer, more timid gaze, a gentle smile gracing her presence.

"Hey... you looked like you needed the juice." He smiled, gesturing towards the chair, as if asking for permission to sit down next to her, to which she nodded.

"I uh..." she paused. Should she even be asking him how he's been? Does she have the right to do so, or are they just neighbours- well, at this point, two strangers living across each other.

"I read your books by the way," he began, giving her a gentle smile, as he felt the way she had tensed up, honestly, initially he thought she was like that because his presence made her uncomfortable, but he soon realised it wasn't him, but she usually was this tensed all the time, this nervous and unsure, which made no sense to him because she was one of the most well functioning person he had met in the city, and he was glad to have moved in next to her, "It's great, the plotline is amazing and the details- you really captured the essence, I particularly liked the world you created, honestly, when I moved here I thought everyone wore those 'blockers' too. To not...feel stuff you know," he turned to look at her, only to catch her staring at him, a small chuckle escaping him when she cleared her throat, averting her gaze, "You were the only one who was nice enough to help me, even for the stupidest of tasks...it means a lot."

She stared at him in awe and disbelief. She had been trying to avoid him for almost a month now, couldn't he tell? Or was he just playing dumb- I mean he totally could be dumb, he didn't know a toaster comes with settings, just thought the numbers were there for the appeal.

After that the two began to "spend time together", it was strictly casual mind you, nothing personal, though he would drop by more often than usual, sometimes after work, sometimes on the weekends- to have dinner with her, he'd bring dessert, or to watch a movie with her, he'd bring the snacks- no, nothing domestic at all.

Or so they thought, because a few months in, he had come over by swinging the door open, yes he had the keys and she had his keys, only to find her standing there all dressed up.

"Where are you off to? What about movie night?"

"Oh no..." she gasped, "Yuyu, I forgot to tell you I had a date tonight." A date? Why? With whom?

"Wait, why?"

"What do you mean why?"

"Why would you go on a date when we- I mean...isn't it weird? Shouldn't you be more focused on your book, instead of this temporary romance?"

"Temporary romance?!"

"W-wait, I didn't mean it like that. It came out wrong-"

"Out."

"W-what?"

"I said get out!"

That happened a week ago, she had been avoiding him for a whole week, she had been ignoring his calls, his texts, his knocks- no he didn't barge into her apartment, it took him a great amount of time to get her to open up to him and he idiotically clowned himself. So he decided to go to the next thing, go to the official reading of her book launch.

He waited there at the back, listening to her intently, taking in each word, who knew he would ever fall in love with, her neighbour, the same girl who had helped with the dishwasher, brought him dinner at night, spent time teaching him the usual ropes of living alone- who knew the very same girl had changed the plot of the book, basing it on her life, expressing how the shy, depressed protagonist, who thought dying her hair purple would make her feel better, realised that the only thing that would make her feel better would be a companion, a tall, handsome man, with a heart of gold- it was not that she needed a man, no, she just needed a friend, and she had finally found one, the inspiration to her writer's block, the Chandler to her Monica, the- HE DIES!?

He gasped, appalled at the way she had ended the story, where at the end, on his deathbed the man tells his beloved how she never needed him, but he needed her to function, to live through each day- bloody hell.

He waited for them to leave when he finally approached her, somewhat upset-no, he was very upset, as she stopped cleaning up to look at him, raising a questioning brow, "What?"

"I can't believe you!"

"Funny, Jeong, I should be the one saying that."

"What!? You killed me!?"

"What?"

"I come here to declare my undying love- no I come here to tell you how much you mean to me and apologise for never asking you out but getting upset when someone actually asked you out and you KILL ME IN YOUR NOVE?"

"First of all, I accept your apology, secondly, the protagonist was DEFINITELY NOT YOU, I made him up WAY BEFORE I met you."

"Oh..." he stared at her then looked around the almost empty bookshop, maybe he should just leave-

"So...Will you ask me out properly now or...'l"

"Move in with me."

"Too fast."

"Was worth a shot." He smiled when she let out a small laugh shaking her head at his antics, "Take me to dinner, Yunho." She smiled watching him lean closer then pause, as if asking for her permission, "Can I...?" His question was answered when she gripped him by the lapels of his coat, pulling him closer to crash her lips against his, smiling when he wrapped his arms around her, pulling back only to press his forehead against hers,

"We move into my apartment..."

"What? Mine's great-"

"Yunho, have you seen the window and the balcony on mine?"

"Your apartment it is boss."

3) @jaehunnyy

Choi San- Bestfriends to Lovers

Idiots, these two were complete idiots who were utterly in love with each other but were also too blind to realise that - why? Simple, because both feared that confessing to the other may ruin the long-held, deep bond.

A bond that had developed at the ripe age of childhood, middle school, to be more accurate. The day he had come to school, bored out of his mind, staring outside the window, wondering if he could jump on the closest tree to escape this prison. What he had not expected was an angel to come and sit beside him, well technically, the teacher had made her sit next to him, and he hadn't noticed her until she poked his shoulder lighter, causing him to jerk back and gasp, earning a few chuckles from the glass as the teacher just sighed in defeat.

"Wh-Hello."

"Do you need help with that?" She asked, pointing at the math equation in front of him. He looked at his notebook and remembered that's what they were supposed to me doing- damn that was a lot of daydreaming.

"Yeah, I guess...do you... know how to solve it?" He asked the new girl, too afraid to make eyecontact.

"Here, I'll show you." Turning to face him, she pulled his scribbled notebook closer.

"I'm San by the way."

That day onwards, a nice and quiet introvert at the back of the class finally began to crack open. From time to time, you'd hear him whispering to her, talking about some anime or a film. Often, he'd be telling her about his cat, Byeol, and how pretty she was. During break you wouldn't see San next to her for the first five minutes, no, he'd be sprinting across the campus,jumping down the stairs to go to the canteen to get her something to drink with her lunch, or a sweet snack, regardless of how many times she'd say 'it's fine.' During self study hours, she wouldn't be studying, no, she'd be busy tutoring her athletically gifted friend, he was...a little dumb, but that's okay, he was hardworking and she'd tell him she'd help him where he'd get stuck, explain and tutor where needed- especially in math.

As they grew older, he grew into his body, his self-esteem issues slowly subsiding, his feelings for her deepening, yet, never enough to tip the scale, at the bring of an edge but never enough to flow out he had to keep it all under control, because that's just how San was, patient and calm, he would never take a step if there was an ounce of the doubt when it came to how she felt about him. Though watching her spread her wings into the beauty she was, well, was somewhat problematic for him. Especially when she'd come to him, smiling like that, greeting him with the gentle voice of hers, asking him if he liked her haircut.

"What do you think?"

"It's...very nice."

"Just very nice?"

"You'd look pretty to me even if you were bald."

Conversations like these would have her heart hammering against her ribcage, and she'd pray to God that he couldn't hear it. She'd pray for it when he'd be walking home side by side, his shoulder bumping into hers, or his hand brushing against hers, when he'd take her bag from her, clicking his tongue at how heavy it would be,

"You trynna' build muscles like me?" He'd ask, though he was still very fragile, he'd only started going to the gym when he noticed how the 'basketball team captain', had decided to ask her to 'help tutor him too', though she had politely declined.

"Hmm? Of course not, Advanced Math books are just big like that..."

"Why do you do this to yourself, dove?" A nickname she had gained over the time, one used only by him.

"Because I wanna teach one day, I love teaching, I want to make sure people realise subjects aren't difficult or they aren't dumb, it's just that they're not taught properly."

Yup, he was smitten, on his knees, begging for her please ( he was also an idiot).

Ended up in college with her, though in a different major, like hell the now 'mountain of a man', no longer the kitten-like fragile boy, was going to major in math- business was a way better option.

This wasn't a bad situation, though they rarely had a few classes together, she'd still make time to see him, to text him as soon as class would end, but he'd already be standing at the exit, waiting for her with a coffee in hand and a dimpled smile, reserved just for her.

In no means was Choi San an extrovert, but somehow along the line he had met one, who later claimed that his MBTI had changed to an introvert too, though he doubted that notion- Jung Wooyoung.

Boistorous, noisy, obnoxious but a genuinely nice person at heart, Wooyoung was his companion in his major's classes, he was also the first person to know about San's little secret, since San trusted him enough to know, though Wooyoung assured him he had figured it out as soon as San introduced him to her as his "bestfriend".

"You're an idiot." Wooyoung snorted, taking off his shoes as he walked into the 4th years tiny apartment.

"What? Why?"

"You really think I didn't know?"

"How did you kno-'

"You can be bestfriends with a girl since childhood, unless a) one of you confessed to the other and got friendzoned but still chose friendship or b) neither of you confessed but are secretly crushing over the other."

"Wow, should've been a psychologist instead of a business major."

"What can I say, Sannie? I am a man of many talents."

Things progressed like this for a long time, Wooyoung watched from the sidelines how the two would basically act like a couple that was not a couple- almost everyone at campus thought they were a couple and Wooyoung was basically the third wheel. Not that he minded, and San appreciated him for that, he was glad Wooyoung's relationship with his dove was platonic- borderline sibling-like.

But Choi San was a fool, one that Choi San, at the fresh age of 25 wished that perhaps he'd be able to take the next steps, but something at the back of his mind held him back, were his personal desires as important as this friendship?

Which is why he stood there watching his best friend get ready for her date, her date with Wooyoung. After a conversation he did not like, but what could he say? He was too afraid to even confess, and well, Wooyoung wasn't a bad guy, and technically, he was his friend.

"I'm gonna ask her out, Sannie." The brunnet sighed, before taking a sip of his coffee, humming at the bitterness, perhaps this bitterness was sweeter than the bitter taste that had developed in San's mouth at the statement.

"W-why?" The bigger man with the fragile heart whispered.

"Because...I like her...I'm sorry but...I gave you time, so much of it and...I just wanted you to be the first one to know...if she says no, we'll all still be friends, but if she says yes...San, I won't hold back."

That had led to her first anniversary with Wooyoung, then the second and finally a day before their third anniversary San had texted the couple how he wouldn't be able to make it to their anniversary party because he had work that day and he wished them the best.

What he did not expect was someone knocking on his door at 2 am, opening the door to find a tear stained Wooyoung, only for him to punch the taller man in the face, watching him stumble backwards then wipe his eyes and sigh, "I swear- if you weren't such a great guy, I would've stabbed you."

"What the F*CK WOOYOUNG?"

That night was the first time he had seen Wooyoung cry, cry about how when she read the message she had become a mess, one that even Wooyoung couldn't fix, begging him for forgiveness how she made a mistake, how even though she was happy with Wooyoung, her heart belonged to someone else, someone who she thought she could move on from since he never confessed, since he never liked her back the way she did, and though the text was a confirmation of that, she couldn't bear lying to Wooyoung, to give him only half the love of what he deserved, knowing he deserved someone who would teach him the true meaning of love, because she was a teacher with only one student in mind, the idiot of a man- Choi San.

That night San couldn't sleep, not a wink, he processed the words over and over again, so did she like him? Should he confess to her? Now? Wouldn't that make it awkward? Or should he wait? Would that be a mistake?

Though his questions were answered in the morning when the doorbell rang at 7 am, making the sleepy man sigh as he stumbled to the door with blurry eyes, opening it still half asleep, only the slap he received woke sobered him up quickly,

"OW- WH- WHY ARE YOU JUST LIKE WOOYOUNG!?"

"SHUT UP! DONT TAKE HIS NAME! I HURT HIM BECAUSE OF YOU!" Never in the many years of knowing her, had she raised her voice like that.

"I-"

"NO! LISTEN TO ME!" She yelled before shoving him inside so she could continue yelling inside, "I like you- and you- you d*ck you could tell him you liked me but you couldn't tell me!? All those horrible dates you watched me go to, but you couldn't stop me?! You knew you liked me yet you let Woo ask me out!?"

"I- I didn't wanna ruin what we had..."

"San, I- what if I had married Woo? Huh? Then what? When you already had half my heart, I-"

She couldn't finish her sentence though, because the next thing she knew, he was smothering her with all that pent up love, his lips pressing against hers with a ferocity she had ever seen in her gentle Sannie, wanting to claim what he was too scared to touch before.

He only pulled back when she lightly pushed him back, gasping for air, looking up at him all flushed and pink, her swollen lips just enticing him even more,

"W-what was that?" She breathed out.

"Never say you're marrying anyone but me, I would've ruined the wedding even if it meant being thrown out."

"You're an idiot Sannie."

"No, I just had a teacher who could teach me math, but couldn't teach me how to love properly - guess she was learning too."

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studentinpursuitofclouds · 1 year

Note

Any headcanons on how the townsfolk react to the farmer having magic?

Sure thing :D

By the way, it became interesting to me, what kind of magic exactly does the Farmer use in the vanilla game? In fact, only interaction with Junimo, the ability to talk with wild animals and the transmutation of bars (which is more alchemy than magic, I think?) comes to mind. So I decided to write the reaction of the inhabitants as if the Farmer has some kind of spells like a fireball, telekinesis and other such that the first thing comes to mind. Hope you like it, dear anon ❤️

--------------------------------------------------

Unfortunately, Pierre doesn't have anything "magic" for the Farmer in his shop. Oh, they just want to buy seeds? Well, with magic or not, a client is still a client! Just please don't accidentally burn his store with a fire spell or something.

Penny only giggled nervously after receiving information from the Farmer, and the following days she tried to avoid them. Now she is much calmer, but nonetheless, how in the world-?

Abigail knew that the Farmer is not so simple at first glance! Even the fact that they just understand little apple-like spirits delights Abby. It's so cool! If they also have some other combat magic, then it's even better!

Well... This magic of theirs doesn't restrict them from eating normal food, does it? No? Wonderful! Then Gus will gladly serve the Farmer in the Saloon, without any prejudice. Maybe he will even calm down his other visitors, who will climb to the Farmer with their annoying polls after an extra mug of beer.

Magic? Young one, George is not up to your hocus-pocus right now. Go show your tricks with bunnies and hats to kids or someone else, and let him watch his TV. Hmmph!

Rasmodius' only wish is that the young Farmer not fall under the control of his ex-wife if she takes an interest in their giftedness. Besides that, the wizard's door to the tower will always be open for the Farmer if they have a problem with magic control, or they want to learn a new spell.

Magic, you say? Can they conjure pink cake right into Haley's house? What about diamonds? Or maybe even a pony? No? Well, then what's the point in this magic. Boring...

Gunther once heard that people with a "special gift" are looking for incredible artifacts where no ordinary eye can see. Well, now the young Farmer has the opportunity to test this theory in practice, and don't forget to tell Gunther about it!

Sorry bud, but Shane can't be fooled by all this crap. No, don't show him the glowing energy from hands. And don't force objects to levitate in the air. The hell are you- stop lift him into the air with magic, no! Put Shane back down, for fuck's sake! Magic is not real!

"You can do a fire spell? For real? Can you demonstrate?" When the Farmer made a small fireball that emitted from their hand, Sebastian immediately held a cigarette to the little magic fire. "Thanks, I lost my lighter recently."

Tired Kent, having seen a demonstration of magic from the Farmer, simply turns around 180 degrees and goes home. First, the nightmares, and now also hallucinations in reality. He. Need. Fucking. Break.

Don't even think about playing pranks on Pam with these tricks, or she'll whip the Farmer so badly that no magic in the universe will soothe the burning pain in their ass! And she mean it, kiddo. Just don't.

Awesome! It's so awesome! Oh, can Farmer move in the air? How about moving things with their mind? Oh, can they move a slice of pizza in the air? Sam just wants to repeat that 'pizzakinesis' meme from the internet. Aww, c'mon, don't look at him like that, it will be fun!

The poor Farmer immediately regretted that they decided to tell Demetrius about their magical abilities. Because at first the scientist expressed incomprehension, and after the demonstration he took the young Farmer by the hand and almost forcibly led him to the laboratory "to study an incredible phenomenon!"

Robin was the one who quickly cooled her husband's ardor and told him that the Farmer was their friend, not a lab rat. The town carpenter doesn't care too much that the Farmer has some kind of power, because they're a good person. Besides, with neighbors such as Linus and members of the Adventurer's Guild, nothing will surprise Robin.

Speaking of neighbors, Linus will take news very calmly. He himself doesn't have magic in his blood, but he can feel the flows of someone else's energy. Will always support the Farmer if magic bothers them.

Marlon, as an adventurer who has seen an untold number of miracles in his life, will also calmly respond to the magical talent of a young member of his Guild. He will give the Farmer the opportunity to stay in his Guild if someone starts to annoy the Farmer because of their magic.

Gil will also not stand aside and cheer up the young adventurer if they lose heart, treat them to good whiskey (just a little bit) and give wise advice along with Marlon. Magic or not, one should not tease a person because of prejudice towards magic.

Maru, like Demetrius, will also be interested in studying this phenomenon, because she also believes that there is nothing that science could not explain. True, unlike her father, she will politely invite the Farmer to her home, not forcibly pull them along.

Heh, and Lewis was just thinking not to book a clown for the fair this year. Maybe after the show, the Farmer wants to show a couple of tricks for tourists? Don't worry, he'll pay them for their work. A? Real magic? Why yes, of course... magicians never tell their secrets, right? ;)

After many stories of his ol' Man, as well as some of the miracles that he himself found while sailing on the ship, Willy is no longer surprised about anything. If the Farmer wants, they can go fishing together on the beach and Willy will tell him stories about mermaids, miracles and magic.

Even though the Farmer has healing spells, Harvey asks them not to self-medicate. Funny tho, but he's not as surprised by Farmer's magic ("I've seen you do weirder things")

Magic? Oh, the Farmer wants to show her sons card tricks or something? Ok, Jodi doesn't mind, just please don't litter too much in the house, she just cleaned up recently.

Caroline will have mixed feelings about this. The last time she dealt with something magical was when she went to... Ah, no, never mind. As long as the Farmer doesn't harm anyone with their magic, Caroline doesn't mind.

Oh, you want to see real magic? Discounts up to 70% on almost all products at JojaMart, come and get it! (Morris doesn't give a damn about their magic as long as the Farmer buys seeds here and not from competitors).

Krobus knows that some people can wield arcane powers, like the same Wizard. Maybe if the Farmer talks about their abilities and human culture, then Krobus will share interesting facts about the Shadow people.

Elliott doesn't believe Farmer's words at first. "For me, a miracle is when I can untangle my hair without harming it." The Farmer is casting a spell in a language Elliott doesn't know, and now writer's hair is tangle-free, styled and braided. Ok, now Elliott believes in magic.

Oh yes, Emily has felt a strong flow of Farmer's energy since the day they moved to Stardew Valley. She wants to invite them to a crystal meditation sometime so that the Farmer opens their chakras and releases their energy. "Emily, this isn't exactly what-" Oh no, it's too late...

At first, Alex is surprised by this, but then quickly comes to his senses, trying to remain cool. "I really hope you don't use these tricks in sports, because only losers and weaklings will do this."

Sorry Farmer, but Clint is not going to buy gold ore and bars from them, as they themselves claim, "created with the help of magic." People already tried to deceive him like this in other cities. "Clint, this has more to do with alchemy than magic" "You get the point"

"Well, one more unusual neighbor for me," Marnie thought, finally understanding why the Farmer was never afraid to go to the wizard's tower despite her warnings about strange noises.

Leah is also not too surprised by the unusual neighbor. After all, the valley itself is a magical place, just like in fairy tales, so why be surprised by the same wizard or a young Farmer with their magic?

"Oooh! Please, show us some tricks, Mr./Mrs. Farmer! Please! Pretty please!" Now Jas and Vincent will not leave the poor Farmer until the evening.

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moonspirit · 3 months

Note

What do u think Annie’s eating habits are like? We know she loves sweet food but what else

Is she a picky eater? Maybe due to being force fed during her training to get more powers.

Does she have trust issues around food?

Is the reason she likes sweet food due bitter things reminding her off the things she had to eat

Side note and a trigger warning for this part but does she have any disordered eating due to how she views her body. From a young age she had an extremely sexulized Titan and could this have affected her?

Hi anon!

Interesting topic tho! I have some thoughts on this, but whether or not they make any sense is beyond me xD

So the reason I have for why she likes sweets so much is because I hc that sugar was probably a hard to get commodity in Liberio. I don't have much of a base when I say this, nor do I remember if anything about daily life in Liberio was ever expanded upon in the manga, but to me, sugar sounds like something that would've cost a lot of money, something we know ordinary Eldian people in the internment zone didn't have much of. I like to think that sugar was bought and saved for the really important occasions like birthdays and weddings, and to get your hands on a sweet treat was considered something special. For fic purposes, I also imagined up an instance where Annie (already a warrior candidate) found herself staring into the windows of a bakery, drawn by the delicious smells and colours of fresh pastries, only to be shooed away from the vicinity by a military officer. That once she and the others successfully became shifters, she had her first taste of a cookie or a cake and she'd have liked more if only her father noticed she liked them and cared to get her some now that he was an honorary Marleyan (but he never did). That on Paradis, she had her first "free" taste of a donut with nobody to admonish her, and cried in her bed because it tasted so good and she could go and buy more and nobody would refuse her.

Also, the sugar gives her an instant dopamine hit lmao. Annie being the sad girl she was, would've found solace in the burst of happiness that eating a slice of cake gave her without having to rely on people-connections for it. Sugar = easy comfort.

Other than sweets tho, I don't hc her as too much of a picky eater. Only normal amount. There's probably some stuff she doesn't like, for example very spicy and pungent food, but except for those preferences, she likely eats most everything without a problem. (some veggies she's not too fond of (maybe peas?) stealthily travel on their own to Armin's plate).

Oh, for some reason, I really like the idea of Annie becoming very attached to chilled mangoes in the summers! (it's me, I'm attached to chilled mangoes in the summers)

Coming to the experiments conducted on her as a warrior tho. Again, personal opinion, but I think it would have more to do with how the thing she was made to eat "looked" rather than just tasted. Zeke's spinal fluid, for example, presented to her either as a murky liquid or as a chunk of his nape (ew T^T) could've brought her to gag on sight alone. Similarly Reiner's hardening ability could've been dished out to her in any number of ways beginning with the hardening "serum" (like the one in the Reiss underground) or as an actual part of Reiner's body (ew again T^T). Other experiments we don't know of could've also taken any form of gruesome appearance. And in all of these, the two most traumatic components that Annie faced were 1. The disgusting appearance of the "food", and 2. The fact that she was force-fed them against her will.

In that regard, I've always felt that she'd absolutely hate being forced to eat anything she doesn't want to. Let's say, even actual healthy harmless food, but if she's not hungry and some well-meaning person tries to *make* her eat, it's not going to go across well.

And now.... for the Disordered eating (TW).

Hmmm, can't say I've ever made a connection between the appearance of her titan and her eating habits tbh. Annie to me seems like a person who's *fond* of eating, especially sweet and sugary stuff and for different reasons as I've stated above. The fact that her titan is the only one that is explicitly sexed in such a way is definitely curious, and its been the subject of debate for years now. However the FT is held in high regard for its abilities and agility (all of which depend on Annie's skill alone), and as such, is considered a high performance machine, likely even by Annie herself. A war machine, a weapon. Having to always stay a step ahead of the enemy in terms of speed, lethality and effectiveness, I think what Annie would've been most worried about is her usefulness and efficiency rather than the shape of her body particularly. That said, I do think Annie would be uncomfortable not exercising or keeping herself in top form in shape at all times, even post-rumbling, since those are routines drilled into her from a very young age and not sticking to them makes her antsy.

I hope that answered all your questions :3!

#askies #annie leonhart #headcanon #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #annie leonhardt

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somnianyx · 1 year

Text

GN!Reader || Content: angst, fluffy moments, character death, comfort/hurt

There's a mention of girl but other than that's it's completely gender neutral. It's just cuz I don't know what to use to replace it so feel free to use other terms you like.

It's a lengthy oneshot and honestly it kinda sucks. more dialogue than actions too.

"Waa it's snowing really heavily today!" You exclaimed, observing the falling snowflakes like someone who had never seen snow before.

"What's so impressive about the snow that your jaw looks like it'll fall off any second?" Sae sips his coffee, not looking up at you from his laptop.

You turned to him, eyebrow slightly furrowed. "You just don't get it. It means christmas is around the corner! Although it does get a little too cold sometimes..." Shivers ran up your spine as soon as the words left your lips.

Sae abruptly stood up, holding his hand out for you. Albeit a bit confused, you let your lover drag you towards the couch, sitting you down before disappearing to your shared bedroom.

"What are you doing?" Sae didn't respond, he came out with the blanket you had folded just this morning. "Hey! I just folded that-"

"You said it's cold right? Let's cuddle on the couch." Instead of him, you're the one who got all embarrassed. His straightforwardness is one of the things you love about him but you swear its going to kill you one day.

Concerned by your slightly red face, he dropped the blanket he was holding beside you and puts his hand on your forehead. "Did you already get a fever? Your face is quite red. Maybe I should turn up the heater."

"No! I'm fine! Just... embarrassed." You tried to avoid his confused gaze, feeling his eyes linger on your face trying to decipher the reason.

"Why are you embarrassed? Nothing is embarrassing about being cold."

His question just made you even more flustered, "You shouldn't be so nice to me! What if I fell harder for you, stupid Sae."

"It's only natural that I'll be nice since we're a couple. Isn't that something to be happy for?"

"Yeah, but sometimes you'll have to go abroad for nationals. I won't be able to see you for months and I'll miss you too much that I won't wanna let you go."

"You're not making any sense since I take you with me on every single trip." He sighed and slightly shook his head from your antics, "I'm not going to any nationals soon remember? I took the year off so we can prepare for our wedding."

Hearing that puts a little smile on your face that didn't go unnoticed. Your fiancé tilts his head, giving you a short kiss before making his way to the kitchen.

"Ah! Sae, come back! It's too cold."

"I'm making you something warm to drink. Be a good girl and wait for me."

December 24th, 20xx

"Did you get everything we needed for tonight's dinner?" Sae's voice came from your phone.

"Mhm! Did you got the cake that I said I wanted that day?"

"It's right here beside me. I don't see why you specifically want this cake."

"Cause I heard it was so good that you had to wait a whole day in line just to even get a slice! I wanted to try it once in my life y'know?"

"..."

"Sae?"

"People had to wait in line a whole day for this? The owner just gave me the whole cake when I asked for it. Said its for my lovely fiancé to enjoy."

"What!?"

"What?"

"Wow... this must be one of the benefits to have a famous soccer player as your lover."

"We've been together for 3 years. How do you just realize that?"

"I'm just kidding. What were you doing the whole day outside then if not for the cake?"

"I went to buy some more gifts that I thought you would like. You were practically making googly eyes on that watch we saw at the mall the other day."

"Ack! I thought I was being sneaky.."

"You're bad at being sneaky. You know damn well I only had my eyes on you the entire time."

You giggled at his remark, "Yes yes~ I'm gonna start preparing dinner now. Drive home safe Sae ♡︎"

"Can't you wait till I get home so we can make it together?"

"Nope! See you soon. I love you."

"I love you more, (Y/N)"

You walked back into your shared apartment, holding Sae's favorite takeout when the both of you were too lazy to cook. Setting it aside on the kitchen counter, you proceeded with your normal afterwork routine.

You put on his clothes, his scent surprisingly still lingering although noticeably lesser the more you wear it. Rolling into your bed, you wrapped yourself with the blanket you guys share every night. It smells just like him, in a way it feels strangely comforting yet it makes your heart ache.

Missing his voice, you unlocked your phone and set it beside your ear so you can hear him perfectly.

"Hello?"

"Sae..."

"(Y/N), I'm gonna be little late. The road is slippery and there's traffic so I'll have to be extra careful. Will you be okay?"

"No, I won't be."

"Let me know if you're missing any other ingredients. I'll pick it up on the way home. I'm sorry I couldn't get home faster to cook dinner with you."

"You idiot. You don't have to apologize. I told you I'll take care of it."

"(Y/N), I'm bad at expressing my feelings but somehow it feels right to say this now. I hope we can spend Christmas together for the rest of our lives. New years, valentine's day, white day. I promise we'll spend it all together."

"You're such a meanie Sae."

"The traffic is starting to move. I'll tell you more when I get home. Please call me when you hear this. I love you, (Y/N)."

"So mean..."

Before you even notice, tears were already streaming down your face. Slightly dampening the blanket you're holding close to your body.

Voicemail sent at December 24th 20xx, 8:43pm

"You didn't even fulfill your promise of spending this year's Christmas with me. Now I have to spend new years alone too? How cruel of a man you are Itoshi.."

You place your hand on the permanent divot from where his body once occupied the space next to yours. Remembering how you fell asleep to his heartbeat as he held you close, his free hand playing with your hair and the way he places a small kiss on your forehead when he's sure you're slumbering.

"Sae... It's cold. Please come back.."

#bllk x reader #blue lock sae #bllk sae #sae itoshi #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock sae itoshi #angst #blue lock angst #sae x reader #sae x y/n #sae x you #sae itoshi x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #itoshi sae #oneshot #sad dreams

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creative-kny-fics · 2 months

Text

I want to apologize for the person who asked me for the fic that I will show below. I was editing it and it was posted by mistake, it wasn't ready and in a panic, I deleted it. I ask your forgiveness 😭

Ler: Tanjiro Kamado

Lee: Muzan Kibutsuji

'Mr Kokushibo, you truly are amazing! I didn't know you could do so many tasks at the same time!'

'Thank you, I wish everyone would see it that way. But no problem, where do you want me to leave this box?'

'What do you mean by "I wish everyone looked like that"?', Kamado crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

Michikatsu just shrugged and tried to justify himself by saying it was a lie, but Tanjiro knows when you're lying, so there was no way he could be fooled.

Even though Tanjiro insisted, the older man did not give in and once his "social work" was finished he retired and left the young man alone.

'It's not right that your boss or other people appreciate your work...' 'What did you expect? That's how grown people are Tanjiro, plus it doesn't seem like that guy cares enough to do anything. If it were him, I would have given up a long time ago and sent them all to hell.'

'Zenitsu! That's very cruel! Maybe he has his reasons... Mmmm, I know! I'll brighten his day by bringing him some desserts! They're sure to make him smile!', Zenitsu shook his head in disbelief and sighed, there was nothing he could do after all.

After a huge controversy over what dessert he should bring, Tanjiro finally opted to bring him some sweet breads, a few mochis and a huge slice of cake, it had to be enough.

Now the challenge was where he could find him, he didn't know where he worked, so that was the next mission.

'I wish I had spent more time with him to ask him where he worked... It's almost half a day... Half a day... Ooooh, I know where he goes to lunch! It must be there!'

But nope, the place Tanjiro went to didn't give him the answer he was looking for, this was harder than he thought.

'Is something wrong with you young man? I've seen you go around the street about 7 times. Are you looking or waiting for someone?'

'In fact yes, I'm looking for someone... But I don't think you know him... Anyway, thank you for your concern sir...?' 'My name doesn't matter now, little one! Why don't you tell me who you're looking for? I know most of the people in the city, maybe I can help you with something', well, there was nothing to lose, was there?

He turned around, the guy was a little tall, with blonde or silver hair, he couldn't be seen well because of the sun, but anyway.

He told him everything about the person he was looking for, this in case he didn't know his name or something similar. 'Oooooh, I know who you're talking about! I didn't know Kokushibo-Dono had friends at school hahaha!'

'Do you know him?! Do you know where he works?!'

'Sure, I'll tell you, but don't tell him that I was the one who brought you... His boss might get upset with him hahaha', Tanjiro agreed.

As they walked, Tanjiro was thinking seriously, was Mr. Kokushibo's boss so bad to bother just because he is friends with a child?

He shook his head, if he kept thinking about it he was going to end up kicking his boss and he didn't want any problems.

'Well, it's here, I hope I've helped you. Tell him to take good care of himself and that I hope to work with him again...'

'Thank you very much sir! Here, I'll buy you something to eat! It's the least I can do for helping me' 'No thanks little one, I'm sure Kokushibo-Dono eats too much hahaha. It's nothing, see you!'

Well, it was moment of truth, it was curious, there was no receptionist or anything similar, now who could he ask about where his office was?

'WHAT THE FUCK IS KAMADO TANJIRO DOING HERE?! HE'S GOING TO RUIN EVERYTHING IF HE SEE US HERE!!'

'SHUT UP KAIGAKU!! We have to think... We are not going to achieve anything... We have to hide and SHUT UP or he will find us'

'And now what's happening to you? Kaigaku, if you're in trouble again don't expect me to save your ass...', Kaigaku shook his head and dragged Michikatsu to where the trio was.

When he looked out, he realized the young man's presence and sighed, leaving and covering his mouth as he dragged him to his office, luckily no one had seen them. 'What are you doing here kid? It's no place for you to be here, mainly, how did you find me?'

'I had help! And to answer your question, I brought you some desserts because I thought you...-'

Tanjiro's mouth was covered again, someone was approaching and it didn't seem to be anything good.

'KOKUSHIBO WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?! I ASKED YOU TO DO ONE THING AND YOU CAN'T EVEN DO THAT?!'

'Sorry sir, I'm coming right now. I got distracted by something' 'I'm not surprised, you're a distracted idiot sometimes', Tanjiro's patience ran out.

Despite Michikatsu telling him not to go anywhere or go out, Tanjiro did it to confront the adult, he was not afraid after all. 'That uniform...'

'Why are you acting like that?! Mr. Kokushibo tries his best and you should appreciate it! Don't yell at him!'

'Don't fuck with me, I don't have time to deal with brats like you. My head hurts so I screamed, I'll apologize, satisfied?'

Naaaaah, the way he said it didn't convince Tanjiro at all, so he came out from under the desk and stood in front of him with his arms crossed.

'Look kid, I don't know you, I'm not interested in knowing who you are and so on. So do me a favor and leave already or else I'm going to... AAAAAHAHAHA!!'

'LEAVE MR. KOKUSHIBO ALONE!!', do you believe what you just read?

Don't be scared my dear readers, Muzan is not ticklish even in his nightmares, and if so, why is he laughing?

Hasn't it happened to you that someone pinches you and instead of hurting you, it makes you laugh? Well, that's more or less what happened here. That "useless" squeeze probably also contributed to him laughing, but anyway, no one understands that man.

'Why are you laughing?! I'm hurting him!!' 'Yohohour stuhuhupihihid attehempt is whahahat mahahakes me laugh... You should...'

'Sir, I already brought you the files, where do you want me to...?', Michikatsu dropped his papers, why?

Well, it's not every day you see a kid kicking Muzan in the balls, so it was something new.

That inclusive blow hurt Michikatsu, who intervened and moved away, even knowing that it could cost him his dismissal. 'Sorry about that sir... By the way, here's the bill for your order...'

'Oh, sure, here you go young man and something extra for bringing you here'

'Thank you, see you! I hope you get better soon sir!', Tanjiro skipped away before disappearing.

You can imagine the scream that Muzan gave for having been humiliated by a child...

But hey, at least, Kamado definitely achieved his goal, he made Kokushibo smile.

#demon slayer tickling #demon slayer tickle #ler!tanjiro #lee!muzan?#i need to do it

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