#plus sunday is like two days away

[xatsperesso]

Should I post the iruma mothers day fic early or wait till Sunday

If you have enough restraint and know that you can last till sunday then sure but if you feel too jittery and feel like you Need to post it now then why hold yourself back? It's not like people will ignore it if you posted it a bit early

[deepwoundsandfadedscars]

The amount of times I have had a thought to send to my sister and remembered she will never get it 😭

[caffeled]

i can tell my legs will be absolutely dead by friday but god. im gonna Thrive when the weekend comes.

[tojikai]

SUNDERED

Pairing: Gojo x reader

• Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Alt. Ending

Sundered+ (COMMISSION)

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, mean!gojo(kinda), babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments

word count: 3.2k

One woman’s life lesson is another woman’s better man.

❧ babydaddy!Gojo intentionally runs into you when you’re buying groceries just to show you his girlfriend. The woman was your classmate from high school. At the first meeting, she was shy and tried avoiding your gaze but Satoru just had to call you and ask something about your daughter. Completely unnecessary but he’s just that much of a jerk. Once was considered an accident. But when it happened two, then three times, you already know that you have to change your shopping schedule.

❧ babydaddy!Gojo picks up his daughter from your house an hour late, rubbing on your face that he overslept because he spent “some time” with his girlfriend last night. Distasteful and disrespectful, but you let it slide cause he seems happy. You don’t want to be a killjoy, right? You were never his girlfriend, to begin with. Just someone he got pregnant from a one-night stand. 

❧ babydaddy!Gojo posts pictures of his day out with his daughter online. His girlfriend carrying your kid as the three of them wear matching Mickey and Minnie Mouse headbands. You could only scroll past and continue your work to busy yourself. Maybe you should stop lurking around social media and just use your phone for important messages. Maybe you should also lose feelings for someone who never harbored genuine ones for you in the first place.

❧ babydaddy!Gojo always lets his girlfriend open the door for you when you’re picking up your daughter from his house on weekends. He leans back on the couch, watching you grab your daughter’s things, opening his arms to cuddle with his girlfriend before you even get to walk out the door. It made you feel pathetic and small but what can you do? There’s simply no place for you in that house.

❧ babydaddy!Gojo insists that you spend more time together for the sake of your daughter. You agreed to it and now, you had to sit in the back of the car with your daughter as he drives his girlfriend to work. It made you feel sick and nauseous that you were only able to spend half a day with them before you decided to go home and sleep the day away. Maybe when you wake up, you’ll find it in you to hate him.

“Mommy? Call her, love.” Gojo used a higher voice to encourage his daughter to call you. He knows that he was foul for what happened earlier. But what is he gonna do? He can’t reject his girlfriend’s request, plus it was only a ride. It’s not like she was with you for the whole day. Still, he doesn’t think it’s the reason why you left early. You might be feeling…tired. Even if it was Saturday yesterday and you have no work. You might still feel fatigued on Sunday, right?

“Mama!” The little girl mimicked pointing upstairs. Satoru sighed placing her little bag on a nearby chair as he made his way upstairs. He figured that if you’re still asleep, he could just wait for you to wake up and just look after his daughter here. You’re a single mother for 4 days a week, and on top of that, you also have work. You literally don’t have time to rest. He told himself that he needs to stop messing around just to get a reaction from you. 

Reaching your room, Satoru knocked on the door three times, calling out your name when you didn’t answer. “Wait a second.” You voiced out from the other side, “I’m just gonna call my mom, can you wait for her?” You suppressed a cough at the end of the sentence but it didn’t go unnoticed by Satoru. “Are you sick? I could take her back to my house, we’ll look after her until you feel better. ” The suggestion made your stomach churn. They get to play house with your kid and here you are, being miserable.

You shook your head, realizing how bitter you sounded. She wasn’t unkind in any way to your baby but something in you hurts when you think of them giving your daughter the family experience that you cannot provide. You and Satoru tried to work things out but you just can’t get on the same page. Instead of trying to be better for you and your daughter, he decided to fuck around and date someone else instead. 

You wouldn’t say that your name was clean. What with a couple of threats such as finding someone who could act right. You just didn’t think that he’d really leave. It hurt but now you’re getting yourself used to the feeling. Maybe he just couldn’t act right with you. Because why is he so good with his girlfriend now? She tamed him, as he once boasted to you during a fight.

“I’m stuck with a child that I have with you, but not with you.” He pointed out, leaving a searing pain in your chest. “There’s no way I’m letting that happen.” Tears were starting to form in your eyes as the words come out of his mouth. How could he say something so cruel to you, the mother of his child? All you did was tell him that his girlfriend was getting kind of too much after she told you what to do with your child. And now he’s making you the villain.

“I just told her that—” You tried to explain, voice starting to shake. “If that’s all you did, she wouldn’t come to me crying, Y/N.” You just can’t believe that you’re fighting over this. You already have so much to think about and now this, you also have to be cautious about his girl. “She told you herself, I just didn’t want her telling me how to raise my child!” 

“Of course, she wouldn’t tell me that you’re being harsh to her. Unlike you, she’s actually kind and considerate of other people’s feelings.” You looked down, letting out a strangled sob escape your throat before quickly wiping away the forming tears in your eyes as you turn away from him. Why was he never this defensive of you? He didn’t even try to fight for you when his girlfriend convinced him to take your daughter with them on a trip. Without your permission.

And now he’s talking as if you’ve been nothing but a disturbance in his relationship with her. Everything's just unfair. Yet, you just let it slide because you wanted nothing but peace for your baby. “I don’t want to have this conversation with you anymore, Satoru. You’ve said enough.” You sniffed, walking to your daughter’s room to check if the noises woke her up. Satoru was left standing there, processing all the things that he said.

He watched you disappear into the dark hallway of your apartment, shoulders shaking with your head hung low. Even if he can’t see your face, he can tell that you’re crying and it made him feel like shit. He went overboard, didn’t he? “Fuck.” He threw his keys on the couch, running his fingers through his hair. He wanted to apologize but at the same time, he wanted to prove his point. His girlfriend was only trying to help and you took it the wrong way.

At that time, Satoru thought that maybe she was right. You’re just getting kinda jealous that she could spend time with your daughter and Satoru more and now you’re being too sensitive, letting out your irritation on her. She said that it was a natural feeling for a mother to feel that way but Satoru can’t let you treat his girlfriend like shit just because of your pettiness and jealousy. You have to learn to adjust and accept that some things are gonna be the way they are because of your setup. 

As for you, you felt hurt. Neglected even when you know that you’re not supposed to receive as much attention, much less protection from him. His priority is your child, but not you. You have no choice but to talk and work everything out with them for the sake of your daughter. You know that you could start dating someone of your choice but you wished that it would be that easy. You just want to focus on your daughter and if you’re gonna find someone, you want them to love her as much as you do. 

You wonder what you lacked that couldn’t soften him the way he did to her. You started to think that you’re the problem and that is why you couldn’t fix him as easily as she did. 

You stood up, opening the door for him seeing your two-year-old reach out to you. “Mama’s sick, love, sorry.” You covered your mouth, blinking away the heaviness in your eyes. Satoru watched you pack your daughter’s things. “If you’re gonna be busy, just tell me. I’ll just contact Mom. She can be with you for a few days, just until my cold is gone.” You murmured, counting the diapers to put in her baby bag. 

You don’t want to be away from her, but letting her stay with you when you’re like this puts her at risk and that’s the last thing you want. You can’t stand seeing your daughter through pain and you’re pretty sure it’s the same for his dad. Begrudgingly, you placed the bag in front of Satoru before reaching over for her favorite toy. You smiled at how she squealed when she saw it.

“You know we’re never too busy to take care of her. Just rest, so you’ll get better soon.” You swallowed, nodding your head slowly as you thought of what else they should take. “Yeah, I’ll be picking her up.” You kept your distance from her, sitting down as you felt your head spinning a bit. “Do you...do you have medicine, though? I could get some if you want,” Satoru can tell that you’re really sick and despite his situation with you, he can’t just let you be when you’re like this. You’re still the mother of his child. 

“No, it’s fine. I have some here. Just take care of her.” Your voice was hoarse and your daughter was starting to reach out for you again as if sensing that something was wrong so you urged Satoru to get going. “Be good, okay?” You waved as she watched you with her curious eyes but waved back, nonetheless. You wouldn’t admit it but you feel envious that they could be happy together with her. You’re afraid that one day she’ll prefer being with them over you.

As for your feelings for Satoru, you hated thinking or talking about it. You’re obviously in love with him, but you wouldn’t acknowledge that yourself, either. You fought too much, you hurt each other too much. Other than that, there’s no point for your feelings now that he has someone he really loves and truly cares about. 

You never experienced the boyfriend-girlfriend stage with Satoru. It’s like one day, you just woke up and you’re already parents. You can’t blame him for not having real feelings for you. You do your best to be as civil to them as you can be but sometimes his girlfriend’s just out of bounds. And after a couple of painful fights with Satoru regarding her, it just became too much for you. 

You’re just tired of feeling like a wedge to someone’s healthy relationship. That’s how Satoru makes you feel and you just can’t take any ache from that. 

Another thing that you deny to yourself is the hope that you might fix this all. There are always what-ifs in your mind, and you would never tell Satoru about them. He’ll probably laugh at you and your threats that you’re gonna be with someone who truly makes you happy. You would never destroy his relationship just because yours didn’t work. If you have to cover your eyes, look away and pretend to be deaf every time they’re around you, you would. 

You often think about what it would be like if he settled down with his girl; if they decided to get married and have a family of their own. You don’t want your daughter to feel left out. You don’t want her to feel like she doesn’t have her own family in the middle of them. You also wondered if you’d have moved on by then. You hope so. You don’t want to be this pitiful and heartbroken forever.

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

After a couple of days, you’re finally feeling well. You got up early and sent Satoru a text that you’ll be picking up your baby in a few hours. You missed her and her giggles so much. The house was clean during the past days but you very much prefer it to be messy, as long a she’s there. You’ll never mind getting up in the middle of the night or waking up extra early for her. 

Arriving at Satoru’s residence, you rang the doorbell as you waited patiently for someone to open the gate for you. You were hoping that it would be your baby girl, extending her short, chubby arms to you but instead, it was Satoru’s girlfriend. “Come in, she’s still playing inside.” She smiled at you, opening the metal door wider. “Thanks, I messaged Satoru that I was coming to pick her up. Is she ready?” You asked her as you walked to their front door.

“She is, but she’s kinda fussy about it. Satoru bought her a huge playpen and she just wouldn’t get out of it. She’s enjoying a lot.” She tucked a hair behind her ear and you can’t help but feel conscious of how you look. Opening the door, you were welcomed by the sight of Satoru lying down with his daughter in the said enclosure. She was fiddling with a toy as they watched on the big screen. 

Her favorite toy was at the corner, and for some reason, it left a pang in your chest.

“Sweetie, someone’s here for you.” You hated the way she phrased it but you know that she doesn’t mean for it to be offensive or rude to you. The little girl looked up with her binky in her mouth, blinking before smiling at you. “Oh, you’re already here. She wouldn’t let me out of the playpen.” Satoru explained, probably thinking that you didn’t appreciate that it had to be his girlfriend opening the door for you. 

“It’s alright. I don’t mind.” This place always made you feel like you’re an outsider. Probably because you are and it didn’t help that they’re making you feel like it. “Mama!” She waved at you, pointing at the screen as she sat down. “That’s a nice show, love. Maybe we could just continue watching it at home?” You know that she doesn’t have a big playpen there. The screen isn’t that big, either. She suddenly lied back down, whimpering as she kicked her tiny feet. You felt like telling her that you’d work hard to buy her that too.

She doesn’t want to go home yet and that’s what you feared. 

“Baby, mom’s here. She missed you.” Satoru called out but to no avail. He came to lift her up, trying to see if she was just being too lazy to get up. Her eyes were glued to the television as she sucked on her pacifier. She was too into it, pointing the show to everyone before smiling at you. Oh, how you missed that smile. “Let’s go, now.” You cooed at her, softly clapping your hands.

When you tried to reach for her as Satoru leans her close to you, she started wiggling around. “Down, Mama! Wait.” Her cute language never ceases to make your heart swell with joy despite the fact that she’s trying to get away from you. She runs away, stopping to look around before going to Satoru’s girlfriend and hugging her leg. She was in awe when she picked up your daughter. 

So… she’s who your daughter’s referring to by…Mama. You could almost hear your heart shatter at the realization. Since when did she start calling her Mama?

“You don’t wanna go home yet? But Mom’s here.” She talked in her baby voice and you don’t know if you’re gonna be happy that she treats your daughter really well or jealous that she came running to her when she don’t want to do something. Satoru went up to them, leaving you standing a few meters away. You don’t like what you’re seeing aside from your daughter.

“It’s not good to ignore Mama.” Satoru tapped her nose with his finger which she cutely swatted away, eliciting a chuckle from him. “Y/N, I was thinking… maybe I could just, uh, take her home later in the day. This playpen just arrived yesterday and you know how kids are…” He laughed nervously, struggling to find a nice way to say that your daughter won’t be coming home yet.

“Yesterday, I was joking about giving her playmates and she was so excited, she was running around.” His girlfriend giggled as she shared. It was a simple story yet it was a thorn to your heart. Why does it seem like your every nightmare is coming to life? You just smiled at her, understanding that she was talking about giving your daughter siblings. Satoru was silent, but you didn’t dare look at his face. You know that it’s in their future plans and you don’t have to see him smiling about it too. 

“That’s adorable..” You don’t know what else to say, so you just nodded your head slowly, blinking quickly so as to bring yourself back to reality. His place was huge compared to your apartment. The playpen looks so much more comfortable than the crib she has at your place. She has new toys and a mom and dad by her side. So, now she doesn’t want to leave. Suddenly, you can feel the weakness in your knees from when you were sick starting to come back. You cleared your throat as you straightened yourself.

“J-just take her home later. I, uh, bought something for her.” You lied, knowing that you still have to go looking for something you can buy for your lovely child. You wanted to snatch her away from Satoru’s girlfriend, her other mom, but the giggle flowing out of her lips are too precious for you to ruin; the smile on her face as she tickled her tummy was too priceless. Look at them, you told yourself as you started to feel farther and farther away from their little world. They’re a picture of a happy family. 

“I’ll see you later, honey…” You whispered, giving her head a pat as she looked up at you with her big, cerulean eyes. You didn’t wait for any of them to walk you out, you just let your feet take you out of their home, not daring to look back for the fear of breaking down. Your fingers tremble along with your lips and the tiny droplets of rain felt like acid on your skin. Maybe what they say was true. We experience people differently.

One woman’s life lesson is another woman’s better man.

NEXT

[streetlamp-amber]

first kicks

batfamily x batmom!reader

word count: 1.9k | divider by @saradika | requests are open!

CW: family fluff, pregnancy NOTES: i wanted to write more batfam fluff this time with jason included. very sorry if jason is ooc, most of my knowledge of him comes from fics lol

Rainy Sunday afternoons at Wayne Manor were usually spent with you and your sons in the living room, occupying the big U-shaped sectional sofa. Sometimes Bruce would join you three, resting his feet on the coffee table as he worked on his laptop. Today was one of those days.

You were helping Dick do some research on the internet for a science school project that was due next week while Jason laid on his stomach on the other side of the couch, reading a Where’s Waldo? book by himself. Your husband sat in the other corner of the couch, doing some research on the latest villain terrorising Gotham. You didn’t mind if the work he was doing was for Batman, as long as he spent some time with the family outside of the cave, you were satisfied. Especially since the Wayne clan was about to expand in a little more than four months. Plus, with your belly growing bigger as the weeks went by, it was becoming harder for you to do some tasks around the house. Tasks that you didn’t want to ask Alfred for help with since it was your husband’s job to be at your beck and call through the pregnancy. Bruce obviously didn’t mind and loved helping you, he just sometimes tended to get lost in his Batman work for long periods of time.

The television was playing in the background, a football game between two teams that you didn’t really care about was taking place but you didn’t mind. You couldn’t work well without some sort of background noise and this was doing the job.

”So Dick, have you chosen which natural disaster to base your research project on?” Bruce asked your eldest while closing his laptop and joining him on his other side, making the twelve year old squished between his parents.

”We’ve narrowed it down to three: the 2011 Tōhoku earthquake and tsunami, the 1906 San Francisco earthquake and Hurricane Katrina,” Dick answered, clicking on different tabs of each of the natural disasters as he named them. “I want to do my research on a popular one so I can easily find all the information I need.”

”Smart, isn’t he?” You smirked at Bruce as you mindlessly threaded your fingers in Dick’s dark hair who continued scrolling on the internet.

“Never thought otherwise,” your husband said, mirroring your grin. “Jay, have you found all the Waldos yet?” He leaned forward to ask Jason.

“I’m almost done,” the six year old easily dismissed Bruce, not even bothering to tear his eyes away from the pages.

“It’s best not to bother him when he’s searching for Waldo,” you informed your husband in a low volume.

Bruce nodded his head in understanding and redirected his attention back on Dick. “So, how are you gonna make your choice, chum? You could write them down on three pieces of paper and do a draw,” he suggested, leaning his arm on the back of the couch behind Dick, his fingers playing with the neck of your tshirt.

“Dad, I don’t need to write it down on some paper,” Dick sighed, a little annoyed. “You can do that on the internet now.”

“You can?” Bruce asked, surprised. Your husband was really tech savvy when it came down to work related to Batman, but silly, random stuff like a drawing roulette was not part of his internet knowledge.

You leaned your head on your left hand that was propped on the back of the couch and soothingly rubbed your round belly with the other. You watched with a soft smile Dick showing Bruce how to generate a random picking wheel to spin on the internet. Moments like these were the ones you cherished the most, domesticity wasn’t always the norm around here when you had two vigilantes living under your roof so you always tried to savour them whenever they happened.

The calmness in you was interrupted when you felt movement under your right hand.

“Oh my God,” you whispered, eyes round like saucers as you looked down at your bump and raised up the hem of your shirt to make sure what you felt was right.

“What?” Bruce immediately turned his attention to you. “What is it? Is something wrong? Are you alright?”

“I think the baby just kicked,”you said, raising your head to meet his eyes.

“The baby just kicked?” He repeated in disbelief.

You shook your head ‘yes’ just as you felt more movement. “The baby kicked again.”

Bruce rapidly stood up to sit by your side while Dick discarded his laptop before placing a hand on your belly and Jason left his book to climb on your husband’s lap to be closer to you. All had a hand on your stomach, staring at it expectantly, waiting for another kick.

“I don’t know if the baby’s gonna kick again,” you told them.

“Well that’s just not fair,” Jason whined.

“We just need to be patient,” Bruce said. “I’m sure the baby will do it again.”

And sure enough he was right. 

“Oh my God! I felt it! I felt the baby kick!” Dick exclaimed, though he kept the volume of his voice to a low level as if he would scare the baby away if he screamed.

“I wanna feel it too!” Jason cried.

“Here Jay, put your hand there,” you told your youngest as you gently grabbed his wrist and moved his hand to a different area of your belly, closer to Dick’s hand.

“Maybe if we keep talking, the baby will kick again,” Dick suggested.

“That’s true, babies can hear us from inside the mother’s belly,” Bruce agreed with him.

“They can?” Jason looked at you quizzically.

You chuckled at his confused face as you brushed his hair away from his forehead. “Yeah they can, it’s not completely soundproof in there,” you answered him.

“That’s why Dad is always talking to your belly?” Dick asked.

You fully laughed at this. “Yes, that’s why Dad talks to the belly. You can too if you wanna.”

“We can?” Dick perked up then leaned closer to your bump. “Hi baby, I’m Dick. Your big brother,” he said.

Jason also leaned forward. “And I’m Jason, I’m also gonna be your big brother.”

“Yeah but I’m the big big brother, I’m the oldest,” Dick argued.

“But I’m gonna be a big brother too!”

“Boys,” Bruce intervened. “No arguing around your mother. The baby will hear enough of that when it joins our lives, let it have its peace while it’s in the womb.”

A series of kicks started at that moment, making Dick and Jason gasp in surprise at the movements they felt under their hands. Bruce turned to you and the two of you shared a look full of love.

“That’s our baby,” he said to you, almost in a whisper, while Dick and Jason continued marvelling at the fact they could feel their sibling.

“That's our baby,” you repeated in confirmation. Nothing could've erased the smiles on both of your lips.

“I love you,” Bruce said against your forehead before leaving a soft kiss there and pulling away to share a short peck on the lips with you.

“Ew! Gross!” Jason interrupted your moment. Your sons weren’t the biggest fans of you and Bruce’s displays of affection for each other.

You giggled at the boys’ antics but still took a second to say “I love you” back to your husband.

“Someone should get Alfred so we can share this moment with him,” you suggested to the kids.

“Not it!”

“Not it!”

Jason and Dick quickly shouted, the former being the fastest to say it.

Dick groaned before he stood up from the couch and jogged out of the living room. The faster he would find Alfred, the faster he would be back next to you. “Alfred! The baby is kicking for the first time!” Dick called through the manor for your butler.

“He knows he doesn’t need to scream, right?” Bruce asked you. “Alfred can hear the boys break something all the way from the other side of the house.”

“Oh, let him be. He’s just very excited about the baby kicking,” you lightly reprimanded him with the corner of your mouth pulling up in a smirk.

You detached your gaze from your husband down to Jason who now had both of his small hands on your belly, his mouth in the shape of an ‘O’ and his eyes round with wonder in them.

“This is so cool,” he said, barely above a whisper.

“Looks like you’re gonna have some competition Jay, that baby sure is kicking a lot,” Bruce jokingly commented as the kicking didn’t stop.

You chuckled as you remembered all the times you’d stop by the gym room to find Jason relentlessly kicking at Bruce’s punching bag. For a six year old, he already had so much anger pent up inside his little body and it worried you sometimes. But ever since Bruce brought him back to the Manor, Jay had been getting better. The amount of vases thrown at the wall had drastically decreased since then, both to yours and Alfred’s reliefs, and he instead would run to the gym room and let out his anger on the punching bag when needed.

“I can’t wait to play fight with you,” Jason whispered loudly to your belly with a smile.

“No,” you immediately said.

“Best you stick to play fighting with Dick for a couple more years, buddy,” Bruce told your son.

Jason pouted. “But he's always pulling some acrobatic shit–”

“Language!” You scolded him.

“But Ma! Dad and Dick say it all the time!” Jason cried out defensively. “That’s not fair,” he retracted his hands from your belly to cross his arms over his chest.

“Well Dad and Dick, and you too apparently, will not be saying words like that around the baby,” you warned. “Capiche?”

“Capiche,” Jason mumbled.

“Capiche?” You repeated, now glaring at your husband.

“Hey, I’ve really been refraining on the bad words ever since Dick joined us,” Bruce argued but you raised your eyebrows in a way that said this wasn’t what you wanted to hear. “Capiche,” Bruce sighed out, knowing he wasn't going to win this fight.

“Master Dick, slow down a little. There’s no need for running,” you heard Alfred’s voice approaching down the hall.

“But Alfred, the baby is kicking!” Dick reiterated.

Your oldest ran in the living room, his hand firmly holding Alfred’s who tried to keep up behind him.

“I heard you the first ten times, Master Dick, the baby will still be there no matter how fast we get there,” Alfred argued.

“Yeah but it might stop kicking,” Dick said and the two sat on the couch to your unoccupied left.

“Don’t worry chum, the baby’s still kicking,” Bruce told him while looking fondly at your belly.

“Please Alfred, feel the baby,” you said to your butler with an inviting smile, grabbing his hand that rested on his knee and gently squeezing it. “We want you to be part of this moment too.”

Alfred’s hand joined the others on your bump and the old man smiled at you and Bruce as he felt the tiny bumps moving around under your skin. “This is sensational.”

“Isn’t it?” You smiled back at him, content to have everyone you wanted to share your baby’s first kicks with.

Your little family of five (soon-to-be six) remained on the couch until the baby grew tired and stopped kicking, much to Dick and Jason’s dismay. Alfred went back to his tasks, the boys to their laptop and book, and Bruce wrapped his arm around your shoulder as you cuddled next to him, watching over your children and just enjoying the normalcy of this Sunday afternoon.

Domesticity used to be rare at the Wayne Manor, but not anymore. And you, for one, were very happy about it.

[dreaming-medium]

White Nail Polish

Pairing: I.N x reader

Genre: pure fluff, angst, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 5.1K

Summary: Every Sunday when Yang Jeongin comes home to your shared apartment, there you’ll be, in your corner seat on the couch, painting your nails the same white color. But today, when he steps inside, you’re not there.

——————————————————————-

You always painted your nails yourself.

“It’s easier!” You would tell Jeongin with a bubbly smile. “Plus, it’s so nice to take some time to pamper myself. And I get to save money.”

It was a simple tradition he’s come to look forward to.

Every Sunday, when Jeongin walked in the door to your shared apartment and the smell of acetone smacked him in the face, he would always smile.

There you would be, on your designated corner seat on the couch, in your coziest, oversized hoodie, a fresh clay face mask on your face with your hair held back by a fuzzy headband.

The same fuzzy headband he stuck in your Christmas stocking last year.

You’d only just be finishing taking the last coat off your nails by the time he got home.

Without fail, Jeongin would walk in and immediately open the window to air out the chemical smell. He would then lecture you about fumes and how dangerous it was to be inhaling them.

Then, you would giggle and ask him to sit with you. He would do so without any fuss and a happy tingle in his chest.

Both of you would talk and watch TV until it was time for bed.

Sundays were his new favorite days.

The roommate line of your relationship was quickly crossed with how you were as a person, your overly friendly nature couldn’t keep you apart for long. After living together for two years now, Jeongin would easily proclaim you as one of his best friends.

His life was always changing, nothing was ever the same; nothing except for you and your white nail polish.

So, when he opened the door and was met with only the smell of a burning candle, Jeongin frowned.

The living room was dark. The TV wasn’t on. The entire apartment was standing still.

Not even a fresh pot of coffee was sitting on the counter.

You were home, though. Your shoes were by the door and your keys were hanging on the hook.

Never once have you missed a ‘Self Care Sunday’ as you coined them.

Even when you had the flu, you made sure to paint your pretty nails.

The door shut behind him, the click of the lock was as hollow as the apartment felt.

Jeongin kicked his shoes off and made his way down the hall, tossing his bag in his room before walking across the hall to stand in front of your closed door. The soft glow of your fairy lights shined from the crack underneath the wood.

There’s soft sounds coming from inside, it sounds like you’re watching videos on your phone.

He knocks a few times, you hum for him to come in.

Jeongin pushes the door open gently, his head peeking in first before his body.

You’re a lump of blankets on top of the bed. If he looked quickly, he might not have realized that it was you underneath all the blankets and pillows.

“Y/N?” he asks quietly, stepping inside slowly.

Your eyes look at him, they seem… dull. When you see his face, you lock your phone and place it down on your bed.

Again, you only hum.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” he asks. Jeongin walks towards the bed and sits on the edge. “You’ve never missed a Sunday before.”

You shrug— or at least, he thinks it’s a shrug, all Jeongin’s able to see is the lump of blankets move around.

His eyebrows pull together and he purses his lip. “What’s going on?”

You look away from him. “Just… life weighing down extra today. Exams, job, finding an internship, life, everything.”

Every day you were bubbly. Not a moment went by where you didn’t have a varying degree of a smile on your face. Some people had a resting bitch face, you had a resting happy face.

The corners of your lips were perpetually upturned.

Seeing you now, like this, a sad lump of fleece, pulled at Jeongin’s heartstrings.

You reach one hand out from under the blankets and place it gently on top of his. “Sorry for being all meh,” you huff a humorless laugh through your nose. “I’ll be fine tomorrow. I think I need to be a bedbug today.”

Jeongin thinks for a moment, he looks around your room to your desk. Everything that you usually use on Sundays is there on top.

He flips his hand around and picks yours up, bringing it closer to his face. Cocking his head to the side, he peers down at your nails, making sure to exaggerate how much he’s judging the chipped polish.

“No, no,” he says, clicking his tongue. “This won’t do at all.”

“Jeongin—“

“Nope, look at this.” He holds your hand up for you to see. “How unprofessional. We have to take care of this.”

You roll your eyes. And it doesn’t slip past Jeongin’s watchful eye that your lips twitch in a smile.

“I just don’t feel like it right now,” you whine.

“That’s fine, I’ll do it.”

Jeongin pulls on your arm to yank you out of the blanket pile.

You blink a few times and allow him to sit you up on the bed. A large, stretched out t-shirt hung off your shoulder, your hair sticks up in different directions.

“What?” you ask with wide eyes.

“I’ll paint your nails, come on. Free of charge.”

Jeongin stands up from the bed and holds his hand out for you. You just blink at him over and over.

“You’re going to paint my nails?” The question ends with an incredulous laugh.

Rolling his eyes, Jeongin thrusts his hand out for you to take again. “Yes, I’m going to paint your nails, what’s so odd about that?”

“Have you ever painted your nails before?”

“No, but I watch you do it every week. How hard could it be?”

Your face scrunches up but a small twinkle returns to your eyes. It doesn’t slip past Jeongin.

Deciding that you’re taking too long, Jeongin leans down and picks you up over his shoulder.

A loud squeal comes from your throat that dissolves into giggles. His heart lights up at the sound— it always has.

Even on his worst days, hearing your laughter was like sitting in front of a fireplace during a snowstorm. When he’s sick, he swears he doesn’t need medicine, he just needs to sit near you.

He can still remember one night where he was at his wit’s end, everything that could go wrong, did. He was so overstimulated and angry at everything that he could scream and cry at the same time.

But then, your laughter pierced through the gray clouds of his mind. Your fit of giggles traveled through your door and into his room, they were so muffled but uncontrolled.

Slowly, they dissolved into cackles. Breathless wheezes and snorts that made him smile without knowing what you’re looking at.

You had one of those laughs that was so contagious, especially to him.

There was a bit of shuffling, a door opened, and then you came through his with one of the happiest smiles he’s ever seen. Tears coming down your red face from laughing so hard.

“You have to see this!” you wheezed out.

What was it? A video of a duck sitting on top of a water park geyser, when the water jet activated, the duck went flying.

It wasn’t even that funny. But hearing your angelic laughter made it hilarious.

Suddenly, his day wasn’t so bad anymore. He couldn’t even remember what he was mad about.

That’s the friendship you both have always carried on with.

A shoulder to cry on, a hand to hold, an arm to grab when you’re laughing too hard, an extra coffee to bring home, a constant reminder to refill the Brita. It gets deeper and deeper every day.

Jeongin unceremoniously plops you into your corner seat and you let out an ‘ooof!’

He points down at your face. “Stay.”

“I’m not a dog!” You laugh nonetheless while Jeongin’s lithe form disappears down the hallway again.

You look down at your nails. They desperately needed to be done. After studying for hours on end while chewing on your nails, typing on your laptop, and picking nervously at them, there’s barely any polish left.

Truly, you were just going to wait until tomorrow— but if Jeongin was offering, who were you to turn it down?

He comes back out into the living room with everything you typically used. You honestly never noticed how much he paid attention to your pampering.

Setting everything down on the table, he sits cross legged on the seat next to yours and clicks the TV on. A random Christmas movie plays in the background.

He grabs the remover and a cotton pad and goes to work. All the motions look so natural after he grabs your first hand; like he’s the one that does this every Sunday, not you.

The two of you are facing one another, knees practically touching. He’s so gentle when he works.

The chemical burning smell of acetone makes him scrunch his nose up.

“Aren’t you going to open the windows?” you tease.

He grins. “In a minute. The smell has to permeate the house first.”

“And here I thought you hated the smell.”

“I do,” he wipes off polish and goes to the next finger. “But it’s just … something that’s grown on me.”

“Acetone?”

“Yeah,” he snorts. “Strangely enough. I hate it, but I love it.”

He switches to the next hand.

The Christmas movie continues to play, it’s a classic one with Korean translated subtitles at the bottom of the screen. It’s weird hearing English come out of the TV.

Jeongin’s been trying extra hard with English since you moved in. With you being from America, it was like having a live-in tutor.

“I … need remote, please.” He asked in a slow, calculated tone.

“You need the remote,” you corrected him, holding it out of his reach.

“I need the remote.”

“Why?”

“Change channel.”

“Change the channel.”

“Oh my god.”

Your attention goes back to Jeongin. He’s wiping the last of the nail polish off your fingers.

He’s been your rock these last two years. And you’ve been his.

Neither of you really enjoy having emotional conversations or talking about your feelings, you both prefer to stay quiet about it. But that doesn’t mean you don’t need some form of support.

That’s how you two work out so well. When one needs help, the other is there with jokes or food or a movie ready to watch.

Or in this case, nail polish ready to be applied.

With a huff, he stands up from the couch and pushes open one of the windows. He fans his hand in front of his face just to be extra dramatic.

Rolling your eyes, you poke him in the side when he sits back down on the couch.

You were expecting him to put the paint on right away afterwards, so imagine your surprise when he picks up the small pair of clippers.

With a raised eyebrow, you take your hand away a little. His grip tightens and his head snaps up to look at you with a mock-offended expression.

“Nuh-uh!” you tease. “You’re gunna give me man nails!”

“I will not!” he jests back. “I will clip your nails exactly how you usually do it!”

Your eyes narrow, he mirrors it.

You jut out your bottom lip, he mirrors it.

You slowly turn your head to the side to side-eye him, he mirrors it.

“I'm trusting you, Yang Jeongin. Christmas is next week. I don’t want man hands.”

He scoffs and looks back down at your hand. “I have rough news, Y/N.”

You balk and rip your hand away from him and then usher a swift smack to his bicep.

The two of you giggle the more you smack him around playfully.

“I do not have man hands!” you yell.

He laughs with you, holding his arms up to shield himself. “Okay, okay! Fine! You have beautiful womanly hands! Enough!”

You stop smacking him. “That’s more like it.”

With that adorable smile, Jeongin reaches forward and grabs your hand once again.

“One set of ridiculously short nails coming up.”

“I’ll poison your coffee tomorrow.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me, Yang.”

He snickers once more and then starts cutting your nails in small, little snips.

Jeongin just trims them a bit— he does a perfect job if you’re being completely honest. You preferred them a little longer anyway.

When he picks the nail file up, you’re less wary.

He files your nails down a little more, rounding off the edges just how you like.

“How was rehearsal?” you ask quietly.

“Are we gossiping now? Is this what it’s like getting your nails done at a salon?”

You chuckle. “Yes, now tell me all about it.”

“It was good, I had vocal training after, so it was a long day.”

“What does your day look like tomorrow?”

“Nothing tomorrow. But Tuesday we leave for Japan until Thursday.”

You hum, watching him file your nails. “Nervous?”

“Always. It’s never gone away.”

You giggle. “I think if you weren’t nervous, you would have too big of a head.”

“Or I would be Minho.”

Then, simultaneously, you both go: “Same thing.” And then break into a fit of laughter.

He files your one pinky finger and looks down at both of your hands at once.

“How’s that shape look?”

You bring them up closer for you to look at. They all look even and perfect.

How is he doing this?

“I think you should open a salon,” you tell him, still inspecting your nails.

“Ah, yes, let me abandon my idol lifestyle to be a nail tech.”

Jeongin grabs your one hand and files a little notch off that you didn’t see.

Again, you giggle.

He puts the nail file down and picks up the bottle of white polish you use every week. He shakes it around just like you do, hitting it against the heel of his palm.

Holding his hand out, you put yours in his.

“If you couldn’t be an idol, what would you do?” you ask suddenly.

Jeongin doesn’t even pause, but you can see he’s thinking about your question as he unscrews the bottle. The excess on the brush is swiped on the neck.

“Hmm,” he weighs your question. “I don’t know, really. I love singing so much.”

Jeongin grabs your one finger and swipes the polish over your nail.

“You could be a lounge singer,” you tease. “Singing in those fancy, swanky nightclubs at the piano.”

“Would I have a tip jar on top?”

“Oh, of course. It would be overflowing from all the women who fall in love with you every night.”

His cheeks heat up from the compliment, moving from nail to nail with the first coat.

“Don’t say things like that,” he mumbles.

You snicker. “Sorry, but all the old ladies would be head over heels for you. They’d empty their wallets into your tip jar and you would smile and wink at them with those dimples.”

With your free hand, you poke at his face. Jeongin swats at your hand with a whine.

“I’ll mess up your nails on purpose!” he threatens.

Still laughing, you take your hand away from his face. He switches to the second hand. You blow on the first one.

“Okay, your turn: why white?” He asks, paying attention to his careful brush strokes.

“The color?”

He hums an ‘mhmm’.

You smile down at the color on your first hand he did, admiring the way the white looks.

“I think it’s pretty,” you tell him.

“That’s all?”

You snort. “Does there need to be another reason?”

“No, I guess not.” He moves from finger to finger.

“It makes me feel a little extra beautiful. I can’t explain it, but having my nails painted white feels so pretty.”

His own smile is warm and happy. His cheeks scrunch up and the small blush of pink that sits on them make your stomach dance.

You’ve never really needed anything else like you’ve needed his presence— nor have you craved anything similar.

Jeongin is Jeongin. He’s simple and everything you could ever ask for.

“My turn again; if you could change one decision you’ve made in the last five years, what would it be?”

Jeongin whistles and finishes the first coat on your hands. “That’s a heavy question, Y/N.”

You continue to blow on your nails. “Well, I figured we were getting deeper and deeper.”

“I asked you why you liked white nail polish!”

“And I asked you to take a deep dive into your regrets, I think these are pretty similar.”

“Is it?”

“Hell yeah.”

Jeongin grabs the first hand he was working on and takes a look at the polish. “How long does it take to dry?”

“It’s a special gel polish, so ten minutes between coats.”

“How long do you think it’s been?”

“Maybe five?”

He nods and turns to look at the TV. His eyes scan over the subtitles at the bottom to understand what’s happening.

But you don’t look at the TV, you continue to stare at him.

Jeongin’s boyish charm never seems to go away no matter what. Even after all the soft lines of his face turned into hard ones, that teasing happiness is still there.

When you became roommates two years ago it was because you desperately needed a place to stay and he just as direly needed someone to pay the other half of the rent.

A match made in Heaven.

He continued to be an idol and you continued college.

When you first moved in, Jeongin told you that if you wanted more privacy, to let him know, that he was more than content to leave communal spaces to you.

You looked him in the eye and asked, “What if I wanted to hang out with you?”

Neither of you have looked back.

You needed a friend and he needed someone who wasn’t in his group. The boys can only do so much for his sanity.

Sometimes he just needs to come home to acetone and fresh coffee.

Scrunching your nose, you look down at your first hand and poke at the first coat. When your fingerprint doesn’t show up, you hold it out to Jeongin.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

He looks back at you, then down at your hand and takes it. God, his hands are so soft.

“It’s too heavy of a question,” he whines.

“I wanna know the answer, though.”

He applies the second coat to a nail.

“I mean, I regret having to wear some of the outfits they had us in before and right after debuting.”

You laugh, it’s a cackle. Jeongin cracks a smile— it feels like a victory in his head.

“Okay, but I mean a real regret. Something you had control over.”

He stops painting your nails and thinks. His lip pulls between his teeth and his eyebrows pull together. Jeongin’s eyes flit around while his brain reels.

After a few seconds, he shakes his head and looks up at you. “I really can’t think of anything, Y/N.”

“Nothing?”

“Nope.”

“Not even me moving in?”

His eyes glisten and soften considerably when he hears you say that. The corners of his lips twitch and his heart stutters in his chest a bit.

It feels like cotton is shoved into his mouth while he looks at you. Your hair is still frizzy and everywhere, bare faced with sleepy bags under your eyes, pajamas from this morning still on.

If there was one decision that he was sure he made the best choice of in the past five years, it was you.

“No,” he says with a twinkly smile. “Not even that.”

His demeanor catches you off guard, but you don’t let it show too much.

Jeongin looks at you for a few more seconds before looking down to switch hands.

“My turn again. If you could do anything for a living, what would you do?” he questions while carefully painting.

“Oh, easy. Actress.”

Surprised, he looks back up at your face. “Really?”

“Yeah! I was doing a lot of acting back in America, just local stuff. But when it came time for college, I gave it up.” Your eyes shine sadly. “I was pretty good too, but it’s just one of those careers that have too much uncertainty.”

“Like being an idol.”

“Exactly.” You swallow thickly. “So I went for the secure route.”

Jeongin focuses down on your nails again.

You keep talking. “Besides, I get to live through you.”

His painting stutters, but he continues nonetheless. “What do you mean?”

“You come home with these fun stories of being famous, all the people you get to meet, the countries you get to see. You get to wear Alexander McQueen for God’s sake.”

He blushes, and paints the second coat on your pinky finger.

“Jeongin, your life is so cool. You get to fly to Japan on Tuesday, and you said it like it was just a regular commute. That’s … that’s amazing, you know?”

“It’s not all like that.” He inspects each nail, making sure nothing got messed up.

“I know. There’s crazy fans and all the blood, sweat, and tears.”

Jeongin rolls his eyes. “‘Crazy’ isn’t even a good enough word to describe some of them.”

You laugh.

The TV continues to play.

“But you get to do what you love,” you whisper to him through a thick voice.

Jeongin looks at you closely. There’s unshed tears welling up in your eyes. His heart sinks.

Swallowing, your eyes drop to the couch.

“I gave up on that dream a while ago.” You take a deep breath to try and calm yourself down. “So I decided to live vicariously through you and your fun stories.”

You shrug and roll your eyes to stare up at the ceiling. Your lip quivers.

With your hands still in his, Jeongin threads your fingers together and holds your hands up between you two.

He says nothing.

He doesn’t know what to say.

What can he say in this situation?

You don’t need him to say anything, though. You never have. The fact that he’s there is enough.

“Maybe that’s why we workout so well as roommates,” you say, “no one would suspect a normal girl, with a boring 9-5 would be living with idol superstar I.N from Stray Kids.” Humor was always your coping mechanism.

Letting out a deep breath towards the ceiling, you look back down at him, hands still intertwined.

“Thanks for letting me mooch off your life stories.”

Jeongin chuckles. “Anytime.” He pauses. “For the record, I don’t think your life is boring.”

You cock an eyebrow. “Oh really?”

He nods enthusiastically. “You did that research study about traffic safety last month, I thought it was really interesting.”

An unbelieving laugh leaves your chest. “You don’t need to lie.”

He squeezes your hands. “No, really! You’re studying so hard to be an analyst. You sat outside in the freezing cold for days and days and days watching the crosswalk of a busy road just to collect data.”

It’s true, you did do that. Jeongin also stopped by about once every other hour to give you a hot beverage or food.

If he noticed you were getting cold, the next trip consisted of extra jackets and blankets.

The things you do for research.

“After your findings were submitted, the city started the process to add more crosswalks to busy streets. You’re like a superhero.”

You stare at him for a second before bursting out in laughter. “What a lame superhero!”

Your cackles, like always, are contagious. He can’t fight his own giggles bubbling to the surface in his heart.

Before he knows it, Jeongin is laughing with you.

“I’m Captain Statistics! I beat the odds no matter what!”

He laughs even harder at your pun.

The two of you are giggling so much, your bodies falling forward on the couch, hunched over in a fit of laughter.

But, your hands stay intertwined.

Eventually, the laughter dies down.

Jeongin squeezes your hands once more and flips them around to look at your nails.

“I think it’s time for the top coat, Captain Statistics.”

You look at your hands and test the polish. “Yeah, you’re right.”

He switches the white bottle out for the clear coat. Repeating the shaking process and grabbing your hand.

The top coat goes on much quicker than the white polish does.

“Thank you for this, Jeongin,” you say quietly.

The smile that grows on his face reminds you of those timelapse videos of flowers growing in the Spring. It takes up the entirety of his face— and your heart.

“Of course, Y/N. Happy to do it.”

He moves to the other hand. You blow on the first one.

It’s the truth, he was happy to do it. He’d do it again if you asked him to. Jeongin would happily paint your nails every Sunday for the rest of your lives if you wanted.

Words sit in his mouth, words that he’s wanted to say for months now, words that would change the entirety of your relationship.

They’re so heavy on his tongue.

Jeongin can practically feel them tumbling out. He has to clench his jaw from keeping his confession to himself.

How much longer until he explodes? You can only shake a soda bottle too much before everything comes out the top.

God, he loves you so much.

You say it to him all the time, you say it to everyone so often.

“I love you” is said all the time by you. It’s as easy as breathing for you.

He asked you about it once, why do you say it so much? Your answer?

“People need to know when they’re loved. I will happily be that person that reminds them.”

As if he couldn’t love you more already. You’re just a light, a star, a sun.

Yes.

You’re his sun. The center of his galaxy. Everything revolves around you, he gravitates to you. He can’t help but bask in your warmth every single day.

The last of the top coat is painted delicately. They’re done.

“Finished,” he says quietly.

Your smile lights up the room.

“God, you’re the best, Jeongin,” you say, admiring his handiwork. “Thank you so much!”

He mirrors your smile and starts putting everything away. “Anytime, Y/N.”

Jeongin screws the lids tighter on the polish and acetone. A car honks outside. The TV plays on. The heat kicks on. You blow on your nails.

“I’ll miss you this week,” you tell him casually.

He looks over at you, folding his long legs up on the couch again.

“Really?”

“I always miss you, Jeongin. The apartment feels colder when you’re gone.”

He studies your face for a long stretch of time.

You’re too busy smiling at your nails to notice.

He can’t take it anymore.

“I lied to you,” he says suddenly. You look at him, slightly alarmed.

“What?” you ask.

“I lied— when I said I had no regrets, I lied.”

Your face scrunches up. “Why?”

He swallows nervously. “Close your eyes and I’ll tell you.”

You eye him curiously for a few more seconds before your eyes slide shut.

Jeongin’s heart rate picks up exponentially. It’s going to explode at this rate.

He leans forward towards your face, you’re so perfect. How are you so perfect?

He hesitates.

But, he swallows his nerves and swoops in the rest of the way, pressing his lips to yours delicately. Your body jolts, but you don’t move away from him.

It’s no more than a long peck. Electricity shoots through his body anyway.

A shock goes from his heart to his toes. He can barely feel his fingers.

You’re so magical. How do you do this?

Jeongin pulls away slowly, brushing your noses together and letting your shaky exhales mingle with one another.

He can’t open his eyes. He’s so worried that if he does, he’ll see rejection and disdain in your beautiful eyes.

You’re the first one to speak through the thick silence.

“I fail to see how that is a regret,” you whisper.

He laughs. Like always, you get him to laugh. He rests his forehead on yours.

“I regret not doing it sooner.” His long fingers come up to cup your one cheek.

You hum and lean into his touch.

Validation courses through his veins. It’s taking everything in his body not to jump for joy.

All he wants to do is stand up and scream, pump his fist in the air and claim victory.

Before he could do any of that, you lean forward and kiss him again.

Your top lip slots between his, his bottom in between both of yours.

A sigh of relief leaves his nose, his other arm wraps around your shoulders to bring you even closer. He can’t get you close enough to his body.

Closer, closer, closer.

Please, he needs you to be as close as possible.

He pulls back from the first kiss just to press another one to your lips.

Again, and again, and again— he pulls away just to swoop back in.

It’s never enough.

It’s like drinking water after you’ve been parched all day. He never knew he was crawling through a desert until now.

“Jeongin,” you giggle through his frantic kisses.

He grunts in response and continues to kiss you more. Why can’t he get enough?

He’s resigned himself to his fate. He’ll need to kiss you forever until the world ends.

“Jeongin,” you say again, still laughing.

How has he gone this long without your kisses? It’s madness.

Finally, you pull back. He dives in for another kiss, you turn your head with a brilliant smile, his lips meet your cheek.

Eh, that’ll do.

Over and over again he pecks your cheek. Laugh after laugh comes from you.

“My nails!” you finally call out. “You’re going to ruin them!”

His hand turns your face to look at him. “I’ll do them again. I’ll do them again and again, just please let me kiss you.”

Unable to take it any longer, you throw your arms around his neck and smash your lips together.

You pull him down onto the sofa with you, kiss after kiss being shared between the two of you.

How was he supposed to go to Japan now?

————————————————————————

(A/N: yes, the duck video exists. You can see it here. The first time I saw it I laughed so hard my housemate came in to check on me.)

[loving-barnes]

LOGAN HOWLETT - BONDING MOMENT

A/N: Here I am, once again, with another chapter. Chapter 8, my friends, is here and it is still sweet. I will not spoil anything, just read and enjoy.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader

Warning: explicit thoughts?

Summary: The students get to know Y/N a little more.

Please, do not read if you are under 18. This story is suitable for mature audience.

Words: 3700+

Important note: Again, Logan is a tall MF, because they fucked up in the movies. Also, Hugh Jackman!Wolverine. This is set in AU.

A TOUCH OF HOPE MASTERLIST | Chapter Seven

LOGAN HOWLETT - BONDING MOMENT

Nothing interesting had happened since that night at the bar. Logan helped Y/N get back to the school and to her room. He laughed at her silliness, which caught him by surprise. Logan wasn’t the guy to laugh around. He was usually stoic and grumpy. But there were some lingering touches here and there. And yet, their bodies were like two opposite magnetic poles, pushing away. The moment she closed the door, he sighed - relieved he didn’t do anything stupid but also sad that the night was officially over. 

The days went by. Logan and Bobby joined the Professor in Washington for another conference. The President wanted to meet Charles during a banquet. They were gone for a few days. Jean and Scott were still away with Remy and Hank. The school got quieter when some students went home for the weekend. There were only some kids that had a supportive system back home. Many of them were alone in this cruel world.

On Sunday, the day before Y/N became a teacher, she and JJ were sitting outside on a bench near the pond. She took him out to spend some time with him. He snuggled closer to her side. The weather got colder. Heavy clouds appeared in the sky. Halloween was approaching, and the students were excited about the celebration. 

“It’s going to be so much fun,” Jerome said with a wide smile. “I’ve heard you have to make your own mask. It’s a contest, you know?” he was ecstatic. “Everyone does it. The best masks will get some rewards. It’s mostly candy. That counts as a prize.” 

“Wow,” Y/N said with a chuckle. She was glad that the boy was happy at the school. “Have you been thinking about what you want to become? Or would you like some suggestions?”

He shook his head. “No, I think I know what I want to be. I’m not telling you. It will be a surprise.” 

“A surprise, you say? Alright, don’t tell me anything. I want to see what you will make,” she patted his head. “Otherwise, are you happy here? Do you have everything? Do you need anything?” 

He thought about it for a second. “I have everything. They gave me clothes and school supplies. Jean told me to ask for anything. But I can always come to you, right?” 

“You can always come to me, Storm, Kitty, or Logan,” she said. “You can even see the Professor and talk to him. He’s the one who created this school. He’s a good man.” 

JJ nodded. “Listen,” he turned his head to look at her face. “A few nights ago, I think I heard you giggle in the hallways in the middle of the night.” 

Y/N blinked, and she bit the inside of her lip. “Yeah,” she nodded and cleared her throat. “I went out with some of the teachers. We had a lot of fun that night.” It was half true. She omitted the part where she got drunk. 

He poked Y/N into her shoulder. “I’m eleven, I’m not stupid,” he said. “You were with Professor Logan. I heard you talk. Well, you laughed more than you talked.” That was true. Logan walked her back to her room. They talked, she giggled, and then the night was over. “By the way, he’s awesome.” 

“Yeah,” she smiled, nodding. “Does Logan teach you something?” 

“We have one history lesson a week with him. I like the subject a lot. History is fascinating. Plus, he knows so much about the First and Second World Wars. He gives us so much information and details. As if he was there. He’s strict, and we cannot misbehave, but I enjoy the lesson.” 

“I’m glad to hear that,” she said with a smile. A shiver ran down her spine. The wind got colder. “Let’s head inside and have a cup of tea. I think it’s going to rain. Or Storm is having a bad day, and she changed the weather to fit her mood.” 

JJ laughed. He stood up first, grabbed Y/N’s hand and helped her up on feet. He held her by the forearm as they walked inside the school. When she scanned his face again, she noticed the bruises were healed and almost invincible. He looked healthier. It made her heart warm. 

As they walked down the hallway, Y/N heard a whimpering sound. It was soft, girl-like. She frowned. Instead of going to the kitchen, she followed the sound. The boy was confused. He opened his mouth to ask where she was going, until he heard it too. 

Y/N walked to the lounge room, where she found a young girl sitting on the window still, silently crying. She was JJ’s age. She had curly hair and glasses on her nose. Her skin was light brown. 

Carefully, Y/N approached her. She didn’t want to scare her. “Hi,” she used a gentle voice. “Are you alright?” The girl's puffy brown eyes looked up. She shook her head and continued to cry. “Oh, come here, sweet angel,” she said. Her arms spread, and she waited for the girl to accept her hug. 

Surprisingly, the girl was immediately hidden in her arms, weeping into Y/N’s leather jacket. Y/N stroked her curly hair lovingly, letting her take her time. JJ took a seat on the couch and silently watched. 

“You can talk to me if you want?” Y/N said after another minute. “Did something happen? Has anyone been mean to you?” 

The girl's tiny fingers brushed away the hot tears. “My parents haven’t visited me for three months now,” she confessed. That broke Y/N’s heart. “They brought me here, and I never saw them again.” Her voice was low, sad. “They hate me for what I am.”

That statement broke Y/N’s heart. She understood the girl’s pain. Her loved ones gave up on her because she was a mutant. “What’s your name?” 

“Nova,” she said. Her arms were tightly wrapped around Y/N’s torso, holding her close. 

“Nice to meet you, Nova,” Y/N said with a smile. She rested her head on top of the girl’s. “Tell me, what is your mutation?” 

“I, uh,” she hesitated. “I can scream very loudly,” she said. “It can damage your hearing.”

Y/N tilted her head to the side, thinking. “Sonic screaming,” she said out loud. “That is an interesting mutation, Nova. You have powerful vocal cords, and I’ve never met a mutant with this ability.” It wasn’t a lie.  

Nova lifted her head and finally looked at Y/N. “You think so?” 

“Yes,” she said with a brighter smile than before. “Every mutation is unique, and so is yours. With learning and more information, you will master your ability and know how to properly use it. All you need is time, patience and practice.” 

Y/N’s goal was to shift the girl’s attention to something else. It was evident that Nova was agonising over her parents’ neglect. That’s why Y/N wanted to gain her trust, and maybe she’d feel more comfortable around her. 

“What is your mutation?” she asked. 

“I can create protective forcefields,” Y/N explained. “I am still trying to learn more about my mutation. I’ve heard the term Flyrokinesis, but some call it Flyrogenesis.”

“Is there a difference?” 

“Yes,” Y/N nodded. “Flyrokinesis means you can only control force fields. When you can create them, it’s called Flyrogenesis. I can do both.” 

“That’s so cool,” Nova sighed. “You can do so much good with your mutation. I only hurt people,” she said. Nova pushed away from Y/N but remained sitting by her side.

Y/N chuckled a little. “Well, it’s not as it seems. I hurt with my ability, too. It was unintentional, but it happened. That is why we need to practise and learn about our mutations. So we won’t hurt people again. We can use our abilities to do good.” 

“My mutation is elasticity,” JJ joined the conversation. He picked the right time. Nova’s eyes turned to him. “The people that fostered me thought it was disgusting,” he said. “Now I think my mutation is unique.” 

Y/N’s eyes moved to the boy. This was new information. He had never said anything about his parents before. Now she knew why. He didn’t have parents. He was in foster care. Even there, he wasn’t loved. Y/N wanted to run to him and hide him in a tight, loving hug.

“My parents have sent me here and never came to see me or take me home for the weekend,” said Nova. “I deafened my father in one ear,” she confessed. “He never looked me in the eyes again.” And she started to cry again.

“Nova?” another soft voice said from the entrance to the room. “Are you okay?” 

Y/N found three other girls standing at the door, watching them. The oldest girl could be thirteen. All three were different. One of them had cat-like irises. The mutation must have caused it.

“Yeah, I’m just talking to…” she turned to Y/N, not knowing her name. 

“My name is Y/N. This is JJ,” she pointed at the only boy in the living room. “Would you like to join us?” she showed at the empty couch. 

The girls walked inside and sat together. They introduced themselves, too. Jamie, Olivia and Kyra were friends with Nova. They all shared a room on the second level. At least these girls were the support Nova needed. 

Y/N and Nova moved to sit next to JJ. “You are the new professor?” Olivia asked Y/N. 

“Oh,” it caught her by surprise. Did the Professor announce it already? “Yes. I’ll be teaching English and Literature starting tomorrow. I got a few classes a week.” 

“Really?” JJ’s eyes brightened. “That is so awesome!” 

Y/N nudged his shoulder. “Thanks, buddy. I’ll be teaching you too, you know? We’ll have literature together on Tuesday and English on Thursday.”

“You haven’t been here long, have you?” Olivia asked. Her long blond hair was braided from the top of her head. She had colourful bracelets on her wrists. “I’ve been here for a year and noticed you a couple of times these past few weeks.” 

Two teenage boys walked into the lounge room. They stopped in their tracks when they found the place occupied. “Sorry,” one of them said. “We thought we’d be alone here at this hour.” Before he could finish it, another two boys walked in. 

Y/N raised a brow. Already ten people in the room. “What time is it?” she asked no one in particular. It took another five minutes, and another six children entered the room. 

“You’re the new teach’,” one of the older boys pointed a finger at her. “Cool,” he smirked. 

“I guess the word is spreading faster than you know,” Y/N mumbled under her nose. 

“No, she’s the one who saved Jerome,” a girl said as she sat in an armchair. She was at least fifteen years old. 

“I guess you have a reputation, Y/N,” JJ laughed when the kids around them started to talk about Y/N as if she was not there. 

The woman raised her hands into the air to stop the debate. “If you want to know more, you need to ask the source - that’s me. Please, stop discussing me as if I was not here, okay?” One after one, they nodded their head. “Great. Let’s start again. My name is Y/N. Do you have any questions?” 

“What is your mutation?”

“Is it true you will be our new teacher?” 

“Did you throw Professor Summers out of the window a few days ago?” 

That last question made her laugh. Obviously, they knew something happened. This was the perfect opportunity to talk to the students and know them better. She lived there for some time now. It would be nice to be part of their lives, be there for them. As she kept looking at it, she realised all these children stayed at school for the weekend. Some of the faces were familiar to her. They never left the school the whole time she lived there. 

They all had one thing in common - their families gave up on them the moment they discovered how different their children were. 

A frown appeared on her face. “Do you ever go home?” she asked gently. She wanted to know how many of them still had their parents.

They all shook their heads. “No,” said one of the oldest boys present. “Some of us have families on the other side of the states. Most of us are here all the time. They gave up on us.” 

“I’m so sorry,” Y/N sighed. “I know how it feels to be pushed away from your family. Mine got rid of me, too.” 

“Sure,” one of the girls scoffed. 

Y/N’s eyes found hers. “They locked me in an insane asylum because I… I killed my own little sister with my mutation,” she admitted out loud. “It was the first time I used the ability. Until that moment, I didn’t know I was a mutant. My mutation is forcefield manipulation. Even though it is a protective ability, I managed to kill my sister with it.” 

It was hard to admit it in front of a group of children. Y/N concluded it was better to tell the truth than to lie. What if Scott would open his big dumb mouth, and the kids would fear her? No more lying.  

“My parents put me into an insane asylum because of it, and they never came for me. Well, I believe they’d rather see me dead. I escaped the asylum and joined a group of terrible people. My decisions were not the best. I’m not proud of that part of my life.”

“Y/N was locked with me in a lab where they experimented on us,” JJ chimed in. The kids turned their gazes at him. He sounded like a grown man. “She was already there when they brought me in. I helped her escape. Later, Profesor Logan and her came for me and saved my life.” 

The silence that surrounded everyone was heavy. Some kids lowered their eyes to the ground, others closed them. They didn’t know what to say or if to say anything at all. The topic was heavy. Some could relate, and others were lucky to not experience anything tragic. 

“I get how you all feel,” Y/N said. “I know what it is like when the people you love get rid of you like you’re an old, used toy. I understand you feel betrayal and pain, even anger.” Her hand found Nova’s hand, and she squeezed it reassuringly. “But look where you are now. You all ended up in a school for mutants, where you’ve been given a second chance for a better life. This place is your home. People here care and want the best for you. I dare to say that this is your new family.” 

More silence followed. “I know I’m still a stranger to you, and you don’t trust me. That’s okay. Teachers like Storm, Jean or Kitty will be there for you. Please, just know you can talk to me, too. I want to help in any way that I can and know.”

Once Y/N finished talking, Nova wrapped her arms around Y/N’s waist and hugged her tightly. When JJ saw it, he did the same from the other side. The woman wrapped both arms around each child and smiled. The love she felt was immense. Before she knew it, more children approached her. They all huddled together in a big, warm hug. It was a beautiful gesture. 

Storm walked around the school, checking on the students. She stepped into the lounge room. Her eyes landed on the scene before her. She had to smile. Storm was lucky enough to witness the group hug. 

“What’s going on?” she asked softly.

Slowly, the children moved from the huddle. They went back to their sitting spots again. JJ kept his arms around Y/N while Nova grabbed Y/N’s hand and held it tightly. 

“Just bonding,” Y/N said with a smile. 

Storm’s lips reflected the smile. “That’s nice. I’m glad you are finding a way to their hearts.” 

Later that day, The Professor returned with Logan and Bobby from the banquet. They were back after a few days away, and both men couldn’t be happier about their return. Bobby missed Kitty. They’d been texting here and there throughout the time. Logan didn’t have the guts to call or text Y/N. He rarely used his phone. Also, he thought it would be weird. Charles could feel Logan’s faint anxiety crawling around him. He knew the reasoning behind it. The man’s thoughts weren’t quiet.

They drove to the school, glad this ‘mission’ was over. They didn’t expect to hear loud music roaring from the building. Logan tilted his head to the side, frowning. “Is that coming from the school?” Then they heard singing. It was like a live concert. “What’s going on?” 

Logan parked the car in the garage. They helped Charles out of the car and into his wheelchair. The singing got louder. It echoed around the garage. The students were singing a familiar song. Charles smiled and chuckled. When was the last time something like this happened?

All three went from the garage and got to the main level. The song changed. After a brief silence, the singing began again. The students were crammed in the lounge room, dancing around and singing as loud as their voices let them. When some kids noticed the Professor, they made a passageway for him and the other two teachers. 

Logan’s eyes widened in surprise. He found Storm, Y/N and Kitty in the middle of the room, surrounded by students, jumping and screaming words to the song playing. 

If you could see that I’m the one who understands you. Been here all along, so why can’t you see? You belong with me.

It seemed everyone knew the words to that song. All three women swayed their hips to the music, jumping around like all the students. They were happy, enjoying the moment. Y/N grabbed JJ’s hands when she started twisting him around. Her face was bright and cheerful. Even the boy was thrilled. 

She wears high heels. I wear sneakers. She’s cheer captain. I’m on the bleachers. 

This part was powerful. As if everyone wanted to scream the chorus as loud as possible. No one cared that the headmaster was present. But Charles had a big smile on his face. Yes, they organised events for the students, but this happened out of nowhere. It was special. It was a bonding moment for everyone.

“I love this song!” Bobby shouted, bobbing his head to the song. He started to sing the lyrics. 

Storm draped an arm around Y/N’s shoulders while Y/N wrapped an arm around her waist as they sang the song. One of her hands remained on JJ. They laughed at their silliness. Kitty found Bobby walking to her. She got excited and ran into his arms, and they swayed together to the song. 

Storm discovered Bobby a few seconds later. She stopped dancing, and her eyes found Charles and Logan. Her arm fell from Y/N’s shoulders, and she made her stop dancing. 

Y/N gasped. Her face heated up, and she quickly turned around to turn off the music. She had a remote control to the stereo. When the song was abruptly stopped, the students whined. It was evident they were displeased by the interruption.

“Professor,” Storm said his name nervously. “I’m sorry for this. We got carried away.” 

Charles laughed. “Oh, Storm, no need to apologise. I like that you all have so much fun on a Sunday afternoon. You should continue to have more fun.” 

Y/N was breathing heavily. Her chest was rising and falling visibly. It was quite a cardio. Her eyes met Logan’s, who had a grin on his face. He leaned against the nearest wall, crossed his arms over his chest and kept staring. When he licked his lips, Y/N’s eyes followed his every movement. 

“Well, the magic of the moment is kind of gone,” Y/N said. “But we had good two hours of this fun, right?” she turned to see the kids. They shouted affirmations. Some of them whistled.

“Okay, everyone, it’s time for us to end this session,” Storm raised her voice so everyone could hear her. “Thank you for being here and having fun. It’s time to get to your rooms and prepare for tomorrow.” 

Logan watched as Y/N hugged a few younger kids. First, it was JJ, which wasn’t surprising. Then, it was two other girls. That sight made his insides tingle. He felt love radiating out of her. It made him smile. When they separated, Y/N’s eyes were back on him.

He took a few steps forward while greeting some of the kids. “Are you trying to bribe them to like you?” he mocked her. 

“Are you jealous I’m giving my attention to them and not you?” she poked his bicep when Logan was close enough. “Or should I bribe you too?” 

“I’m not that easy, princess.” 

“What if I tell you I sneaked in some beer?” she raised her brows. 

He was impressed. “You got me. Wait, you want to get drunk again?” he asked. “I won’t be taking care of your ass next time.” 

Y/N squinted. Her body was ready to jump at him. Not because she was angry at him. She wanted to kiss that smug smile off his face. Last night, she imagined what his hands would feel on her body, how he would taste and feel. She pictured his hands exploring her naked body, his lips between her legs. 

“I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself,” she said. There was a teasing smile on her face. She walked past him and found JJ talking to one boy. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders. 

Logan watched her leave the lounge room with the boy. His mind was spinning. His eyes lowered and remained on her ass, watching it move with each step she took. 

A hand tapped his shoulder. Bobby grinned at Logan. “You got it bad, my friend.”

“Shut up.” 

[masonmontz]

heyy, how are you? :) so, since it's father's day here in brazil, i decided to do something cute for this special day

REMEMBER: english is not my first language

fluff word count: 2k

this is a bonus of pinky promise with mason and olivia, you can read it separately if you want.

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

“But am I your favorite? You need to tell me.” Olivia asked Mason. You were working and they were watching Barbie and the Three Musketeers for the second time, as Olivia had become obsessed with the movie, but now she started to get bored and started asking Mason random questions.

“Yes, you are my favorite, you know that.” Mason was paying attention to the movie, unlike Olivia. 

“But you have other nieces, you swear to me that I am your favorite?” She stood up from the mattress they had placed on the living room floor, then looked at Mason with her hands on her hips and a serious expression on her face.

“I swear to you, pumpkin.” You smiled to yourself watching the two interact.

It had been three months since you and Mason had been together, and just like his promise, you were happy, but most importantly, Olivia was happy, and that was enough. It took you a while to tell her that you were dating Uncle Mason, but trips to Manchester were frequent or Mason would show up in London and sleep at your house even if he has to leave the next morning.

“Don't be jealous, Summer is your friend and Mason is her uncle.” You said, still paying attention to the computer in front of you. Olivia left Mason and went to you, holding your neck in a hug while he was still watching the movie. 

“I know, mum, but I like Mase and I want him to like me too.” She whispered, so you laughed.

“He loves you, Olivia, you know that.” You squeezed her cheek, leaving a kiss on her nose, which was a little red from the cold. Ever since you and Mason told her you were together, she stopped calling him "Uncle Masey", just because she understood that he was now her stepfather, but Mason said he had no problem being called Uncle Mason, because he was already used to it. “Go put on a coat, you're freezing.” 

You traveled to Manchester and would spend the weekend with Mason, also taking advantage of the fact that the game on Sunday would be at Old Trafford and you would be able to see Mason play. Olivia loved the days you guys traveled as she would spend time away from home and get to know new places with you. 

Not to mention the fact that Mason decorated a room for her, exactly the way she wanted. You didn't know it, but Mason and Olivia had already talked about the decoration and when you arrived one weekend, you found a decorated room. Olivia almost cried when she saw the room the way she asked. 

The room was white with pink details, butterfly drawings on the wall and a huge bed just like Olivia always asked for. Mason even put a desk for her to study and a small bookshelf with some interesting books for children. It was much better than her room in your apartment in London, and that's why it was always hard to go home when she had so many comforts in Manchester. 

Mason spoils her too much, and she is getting used to this life very easily.

“Mum, can you help me take a shower?” Olivia asked quietly, so you agreed and closed your computer, walking her upstairs to help her bathe. Olivia is an independent child, but sometimes lazy and most of the time she would ask you to help her so she wouldn't have to do everything alone. Plus, the bathroom in Mason's house is different, so she can never get the water to the temperature she wants.

“Have you and Mason picked out dinner yet?” You asked as you helped her take off the coats she was wearing. Even with the house being heated, Olivia liked to stay warm. 

“Mase said we can order pizza.” She walked past you and stepped into the hot, running water of the shower. You grabbed her shampoo that Mason had bought just for her to use, as well as her favorite strawberry soap.

Mason has always been attentive to Olivia, he never stopped listening to what she likes, what she says, and she always felt comfortable sharing everything with him, just because Mason made her feel comfortable.

“That's a good idea. Here, shampoo your hair, do you want some help?”

“No.” Olivia was thoughtful, but the day was tiring for her, as she had fun before deciding to watch a movie with Mason. “Mum, can I ask you something?” 

“Of course, honey.” 

“Can I call Mason dad?” 

You froze. You didn't expect that question coming from her, in fact, you never thought she liked Mason so much that she wanted to call him dad. You had only been together for three months, who would have guaranteed that you would be together forever? 

“What?” 

“He's your boyfriend now, mum, and I love Mason so much, I also wish I had a dad like my friends in school.” 

“Babe… I don’t know, Olivia. We have to ask him about this, and what if he doesn't want to? You'll be sad about that.” You rubbed Olivia's hair as she played with the water that was falling on her. 

“Oh, yes, but what if he wants me to call him dad?” She looked at you with teary eyes, and you were touched to realize that she really wanted Mason's presence in her life.

You always thought you could fill her lack of a father, but realizing now, Mason was always there for her, just like Robert. 

“Oh, babe, why did you never tell me anything about this?” You knelt down and didn't care about getting your clothes wet. Olivia came up to you with her hair full of foam, and she placed her hands on your face.

“I don't want you to think I'm sad. You're the best mommy in the world, but Mase would be a cool daddy too.” It would be a lie to say you didn't want to cry about it.

“We'll ask him then.”

✦‎۟    ࣭   ⊹

“Mase, can you get me some juice? I'm thirsty.” Olivia asked Mason, who was walking to the kitchen to set the table for you guys to have dinner, and she was lying on the mattress on the living room floor again, watching Pinocchio.

“Olivia, go get it yourself.” You scolded her, knowing that Mason does whatever she wants. You were walking down the stairs after taking a hot shower, and Mason had already ordered the pizza for you. 

“I'll get it.” Mason said and walked to the kitchen, so you followed him and watched as he poured the grape juice into a glass for Olivia and took it to her. He quickly returned with the empty glass.

“You can't do everything she asks, Mason. She's taking advantage of you because you can't say “no” to her.” You were serious and Mason looked at you, shrugging.

“She just wanted some juice, love.” Mason came closer, grabbing your waist and pulling you against him. He was wearing a hoodie, just like you, and he was so warm that you just wanted to lay down next to him and sleep in the warmth.

“Yeah, juice, shampoo, bedroom, toys, shoes, clothes…” 

“Guilty.” Mason laughed and you wrapped your arms around his neck, lifting your head and kissing his lips. You sighed as he deepened the kiss, and it felt so good to kiss him that you could spend hours like this, just being around him. “Hmm, I love you.” 

“I love you too.” You spoke and the doorbell rang, so the two of you went to the living room while Mason went to get the pizza. Olivia stood up and held your hands, walking with you to the kitchen.

“May I ask?” She spoke quietly, knowing Mason was behind the two of you, so you nodded, giving her a smile and encouraging her. 

Mason placed the pizza on the table, oblivious to Olivia's nervousness, which was now transparent. She was fidgeting with her hair and kneeling on one of the chairs, and you knew she fidgeted when she was nervous. Mason served you slices of pizza while the two of you chatted randomly, and Olivia still hadn't said anything. 

“I left it reserved for you tomorrow at the game, you can stay close to Anouska, she's going with the kids there.” 

You agreed, but Olivia was still nervous and wasn't eating, you were sitting next to her, so you placed your hand over hers, reassuring your little girl.

“Mase, Olivia wants to ask you something.” You spoke for her, and Mason nodded and finished chewing before looking at the two of you, paying attention to what Olivia wanted to say.

“Mom, I got nervous.” She said shyly and you smiled, running your hands over her back and rubbing. Mason had a smile on his face even though he didn't know what it was. “Mase… Hm… I want to know if- hm… I want to know if I can call you dad.” 

You could see the shock cross Mason's face, because he clearly wasn't expecting this. Olivia also looked at him as he didn't look away from her for a second.

“What?” That's what he managed to say, swallowing hard. 

“Only if you want to.” Olivia spoke softly, and you could tell that Mason's delay in responding made her feel insecure, and she snuggled closer to you. You looked at Mason with a small smile, knowing that it was a lot of information for someone.

“For real? You want to call me dad?” Mason asked and Olivia nodded, and you could completely see it as his eyes filled with tears and he put his hands over his eyes, trying to stop his emotion.

“I want to.” She smiled. Mason got out of his seat and walked over to her, kneeling down beside her on the floor and pulling her against him, hugging her. Olivia wrapped her arms around his neck and it was probably the most beautiful scene you had ever seen between them. 

Mason had his eyes closed as he hugged her, but a huge smile on his face as you saw a tear run down his face. That's when you felt like you were crying too, because a tear fell down your leg.

“Only if I can call you my daughter too.” He whispered, but you heard. Olivia let out a loud laugh of happiness, and you felt your heart explode with so much love and happiness as you finally felt complete.

“Yes, yes.” She cheered and you smiled, then Mason let go of her and wiped his own eyes, looking at you next. She jumped into Mason's arms, ignoring the pizza she wanted so badly, and looked at you. You stood up and walked over to the two of them, so Mason wrapped an arm around your neck while holding Olivia in the other arm. “We are a family now.”

“After seven years.” Mason mumbled and you smiled, leaning in and leaving a kiss on his lips. Olivia smiled and left a kiss on Mason's cheek and yours. “Can you believe it? I have a daughter now.”

“It's a big responsibility, you know.” Mason rolled his eyes and you smiled.

“Thank you for this, really. I couldn't ask for anything better.” He spoke to you, then to Olivia and smiled at her. “I love you both, my girls.”

“I love you too, dad.” Mason's eyes filled with tears again when Olivia spoke, but he held back from letting them fall. “Mum, we need to move to Manchester, families live in the same house.”

“Hey, easy girl. One thing at a time.” 

“She’s right. She can't live in London while her father lives in Manchester.” 

“Calm down too, that's a topic for another time.”

“Yes, now I want pizza.” Olivia spoke and you smiled, then Mason placed her in the chair again and looked at you gratefully.

Maybe it would take you a while to move, or maybe not. No one knows what might happen the next day, but you hope things will work out forever.

yourusername

liked by masonmount, declanrice, yourfriend and 359 others

yourusername It's been a great few months 🤍

↳ masonmount Love you so much, my girls! ❤️

↳ debbiemount I miss you, great pictures ❤️😀

↳ jazbenham Can't wait to see you again, the girls miss you and Olivia 🥰

[itaehynz]

SEVEN DAYS A WEEK. — C.YJ

pairing: choi yeonjun x fem!reader

genre: fluff, crack, suggestive.

breakdown/summary: yeonjun is sooo seven coded — based off the song ‘seven’ by jungkook, i can no longer contain these thoughts about yeonjun 😵‍💫😵‍💫 i just know he’d be so consistent when it comes to him being in love with someone, like a lovesick puppy!

warnings: profanity, suggestive words, yeonjun is kind of a himbo (?), reader is a bit mean at first but she warms up to him, yeonjun does not give up at all.

yeonjun who is confused at first, as to why you’re not giving him the attention everyone else does? is there something wrong with him, is he ugly? it can’t be that. or maybe you just don’t get the hype of being so obsessed with him? ding ding ding. he’s first thinking to himself, maybe i can attract them with flowers? and that’s when he starts his mission:

getting you and your attention.

yeonjun, who tries to get you within a week’s time, if he can’t get you by saturday, he’ll leave you be… well, he would but he’s way too prideful, he knows he can get you within a week.

—

SUNDAY.

he drops off a bouquet of flowers to your house, thank god you were home at the time. he feels as if he’s already had you wrapped around his finger before you text him.

tloml <3: don’t drop off shit at my house w/o letting me know first. i’m throwing them away + i still don’t want you.

ouch, that was harsh. he thinks to himself, typing a response for your “cruel” response to his offering.

you: y/nnn :( why do you hate me?

tloml <3: i don’t hate you, i just don’t like how you’re trying to throw yourself at me. can’t you take a hint?

you: well for one, i’m not throwing myself at you. it’s just when i want something, i don’t stop until i get it. and two, no, i cannot take a hint especially when it’s coming from you! 😋

tloml <3: yeonjun, please get the fuck off my phone. i gave you my number so you can ask me about the comic you purchased, not so you can send flowers to my home. next time you send something to my house, i’m going to find you and bash your smug face into cement.

you: oh my gosh you said my name 🤭 hearing you say that makes me so happy, you don’t even understand.

tloml <3: i’m not even really saying it…

you: so? i can hear it in my head.

tloml <3: you’re insane, don’t text me again.

he tries sending another message but it doesn’t go through, that’s when he finally realizes what you did. you BLOCKED him. he’s in utter shock. did he go too far? what if you hate him now? he shakes these thoughts away with a swipe of a hand through his hair. i guess i’ll just have to work harder for these next days.

—

MONDAY.

yeonjun decides to bring food and flowers (again) to your job! he sees you from the window of his car, working the front register. your hair is tied up into a ponytail, you’re wearing a beige crew neck with the words “new york” embroidered on it, loose gray sweatpants & old high top converse.

good thing you work in a comic book store.

yeonjun thinks you look absolutely stunning. he leaves his car to approach the store, walking in with his chin held high plus the food and flowers in hand. you hear the bell above the front door ring, looking up to greet the new customer.

“hello! welcome to the eternal comic store, how can i-” you sigh, “what do you want, yeonjun?” you say as he looks at you with a bright smile.

“ohhh you know nothing, just wanted to drop these off for you,” he places the food and flowers on the counter, hoping you’ll atleast take something. you look at him annoyed, not understanding what’s so special about you that he continues to keep trying with you… you’re starting to like it.

“thank you but, can i ask you a question?” he nods. “why do you keep trying to get at me? i already said i don’t like you, was that not enough? do i have to punch you in the face?” you ask, irritation slowly making its way into your tone.

yeonjun raises his eyebrows, not expecting that question but still knowing his answer. “y/n, the first minute i walked in this store i just felt myself gravitating towards you. you have this type of aura, i don’t know how to describe it,” he pauses, resting his head on his chin.

“it’s just like, you’re comforting? yeah that, even though you’ve been nothing but mean to me… i can tell that’s just you having your guard up to protect yourself and i get it. but besides you having a comforting aura, you’re just really pretty and i’d also like to get to know you because you seem cool! and, please do not punch me, i might cry.” he finishes, straightening his lips into a thin line.

you blink, trying to understand everything. you open your mouth to say something but nothing comes out, so you just roll your eyes and nod. he watches your expression with the same smile on his face, admiring how nice your eyes are.

“thank you for the food and flowers yeonjun, but please get out of the store,” you finally say, rushing a hand through your hair. he catches the small smile you give him and nods before saying, “alsooo, do you mind unblocking my number? i won’t annoy you but can you please just do it?” he asks with a small pout.

you nod shooing him away and pulling out your phone to do so. he smiles widely, walking away with his hands in his pockets.

even though he annoys you to no end, he’s very consistent and it’s something you slightly admire. just slightly.

—

TUESDAY.

yeonjun comes back to your job with nothing to give except his conversation. he waves at you as he walks in, not caring how you stare at him blankly instead of waving back.

this time he came in with a friend, a friend named soobin apparently. yeonjun must be talking about you to soobin because he keeps glancing over at you behind the counter.

“see, she’s so pretty. doing her job and stuff, normal human things,” he sighs, “why doesn’t she want me?” he looks over at soobin.

soobin rolls his eyes, looking through the manga section. “probably because you’re a pain in the ass? i don’t know though, just a thought.” yeonjun smacks the back of his head, causing it to make a noise which has your head perking up from your phone.

he looks over at you, smiling and waving his hand trying to say it’s nothing, don’t worry which has you rolling your eyes and looking back down at your phone.

his smile fades away as he looks back at soobin, “don’t be a dumbass, i’m not even that annoying to her… yet,” he adds looking over at you once again. “yeah, yet.” soobin mumbles.

“i’m sorry, what was that?” yeonjun asks, which makes soobin shake his head. he nods, snapping his fingers as a way to tell soobin to hurry up.

soobin picks up a manga, walking over to the counter. yeonjun follows behind, smile adorning his face as he approaches you. seeing him from your peripheral, you choose to ignore him and focus on his friend.

“will that be all?” you ask as soobin nods, “okay, that will be 8.36. will you be paying with cash or card?” yeonjun notices how you haven’t said much of a word to him nor have you even gave him his daily dose of mean glares. “card is fine,” soobin says.

you accept his card, swiping it quickly before handing it back. “enjoy your read!” you chirp, giving him a small smile.

yeonjun tells him to go, watching as he walks out. looking back over at you, he pouts, “y/nnn, why haven’t you talked to me?” he quirks his head to the right.

“what is there to talk about? once again, i already said i don’t like you, yeonjun.” you walk out from behind the counter, going over to a bookshelf. he follows you like a lost puppy, pout stuck on his face.

“yes, i get that but you haven’t like me for a while and we still spoke a little. what’s so different now, do you not like me even more today?” he questions, coming closer to you.

you turn around to him and say, “yeah, pretty much.” he stands there, pout gone and jaw on the floor.

“WHAT DID I DO?” he yells, making the few customers turn around. your eyes widen, covering his mouth with your hand. you grab him by his hand, dragging him to the back room, “yeonjun, shut up! do not yell please, i was kidding.” you whisper yell.

“y/n, please let go of my hand before i kiss you,” he says with a blank look on his face.

you look down to see you are in fact, holding his hand. you snatch it away, confused on why you didn’t do so sooner. looking back up at him, you sigh telling him that it’s just best to not yell anymore or else he’ll be banned from the store.

“i thought you’d want me banned from the store?” he asks, genuinely confused. “as much as i’d love to, you and your friends are some of our best paying customers,” you tell him as you walk back to the front.

he follows behind you with a light smirk on his face, “can you please say you enjoy my company already, this fake rudeness is getting a bit old y/n,” he says yawning into his palm.

“get out the store.” you tell him exhausted, rubbing your nose bridge with two fingers. he raises his hands in defense before walking away while saying “byeee y/n, i’ll see you tomorrow,” blowing you a kiss.

“bye yeonjun,” resting your chin in your hand, thinking about the whole thing. is yeonjun starting to grow on you? it seems so.

let’s pray you don’t make it too obvious.

—

WEDNESDAY.

this time, yeonjun doesn’t even come in the store. he doesn’t even text you either, which is a shock to you.

hm, he must have not tried anything today, you sigh, finally some peace and quiet.

well, that’s what you thought. until yeonjun’s friend, soobin comes into the store.

“hi, are you y/n?” he asks carefully. you nod slowly, confused with what’s going on. “yeonjun wanted me to give you this, enjoy your day!” he adds, handing you a small box with an envelope attached to it.

“you too,” you say looking down at the box, confusion gracing your features. what the hell is this, you think to yourself.

you open the envelope first, seeing a letter.

“hi pretty, it’s yeonjun.

today is the worst day of my life, i came down with a fever :( i couldn’t drop you off anything because i didn’t have any energy to reach for my phone, hence why i’m writing a letter!! i hope i’m okay by tomorrow or if not, friday.

i’m really really sorry i couldn’t send you food with this, i’ll try tomorrow if i feel okay. for now, you can just have this. i’ve noticed you have an interest in lotus flowers so, i hope you like this.

love, yeonjun. :)”

you place the letter to the side, opening the small box.

a necklace.

he got you a fucking necklace.

a silver lotus flower necklace, it’s actually beautiful. you take it out, checking if it’s real just for… precautions. you once again don’t know what’s so special about you that yeonjun decided to give you necklace but you’re gonna wear it. you don’t know why but something just feels right about wearing it, is it possible that you may be falling for yeonjun? you’d like to say no but you’re not even sure of your own answer.

-

you spend the rest of the day at home contemplating on whether you should text yeonjun, just to check if he’s okay. not that you really care or anything (you do).

you: hi yeonjun, i got your gift and letter from soobin. thank you for the necklace :) i just wanted to check up on you, see if you’re okay. text me back when you can, love you.

you send the message without hesitation before reading over it but once you do, you regret ever sending it.

you told yeonjun you love him. are you fucking insane?

before you can even finish processing what you’ve done, your eyes are widening in shock. seeing three bubbles pop up meaning that yeonjun is texting back. fuck, what if he doesn’t say it back? no, what if he says it back and doesn’t mean it.

a few minutes pass as your phone pings in alert, a text from yeonjun gracing your notifications. you open it reading,

yeonjun: hi pretty <3 thank you for texting me, i was scared you hated me or something lol

yeonjun: but you’re welcome, it was nothing! you know i love giving you things ☺️ & thank you for checking in, i’m doing a bit better! i had some kimchi soup my friend taehyun made for me, it was really good, i hope you ate something >:(. but yes i’m feeling a bit better so thank you for that! and, i’ll always text back fast if it’s you!

yeonjun: but i’m gonna go back to sleep bcuz junie is sleepy… & i love you too pretty :)

for some reason, you can’t help but feel glad that he’s doing better but… you’re even happier that he said he loves you too.

your stomach is filled with butterflies as you reread the last message over and over again, stuck on the fact that he didn’t even question how early you said the L word.

this is a very unfamiliar feeling, you’re not very fond of it. but you’re going to stop yourself before it gets any worse.

—

THURSDAY.

once again, yeonjun doesn’t show up. but his friend does, it’s a different friend though.

jjun: hi pretty! i’m still a little sick so i’m having my friend drop off some food for you + something extra ;) i hope you enjoy, love you & enjoy your shift!

you: read at 10:07 am.

you feel bad for not responding back but once again, stopping yourself before it gets worse is the only the thing you know.

who you’re assuming is yeonjun’s friend comes in, he has long brown hair and doe eyes. he’s wearing a blue beanie & a plain white short sleeve with grey sweats. he gently smiles at you, waving hello before walking up to the counter.

“this is from yeonjun, which i’m pretty sure you knew already,” he pauses to look around, “oh, he also says that he loves you and he’ll see you tomorrow!” he nods with a smile still on his face. you say thank you before he begins walking out the store, looking down in the bag you notice another small box somewhat the same from yesterday and another envelope.

you open the envelope first once again, reading what yeonjun has written to you.

“helloooo again pretty! i know you’re probably already tired of these letters but it has become a form of communication between us and now i’ll never stop!

i noticed you didn’t respond to my message which made me a little sad but maybe you’re just having a bad day! which is totally okay, i just hope you enjoy this meal and have a good rest of your day at work!

love, yeonjun! :)”

you fold the letter back up, guilt coming back to you as the letter reminds you that you haven’t responded to him.

you know what, fuck this. you’re not responding. don’t let the guilt eat you alive and just carry on with your day, he’ll be fine.

-

you finish up your shift at 6pm. you walk to the back room, punching in your time sheet once again to clock out.

you have your airpods in, music playing before it pauses. siri reads, “incoming facetime call from yeonjun”.

why the hell is he calling you? he must have buttdialed you. you let it ring, waiting for it to hang up by itself but when it does, he calls you again.

growing agitated, you take your phone out of your pocket and decide to pick up.

“what do you want yeonjun? why are you calling me?” is the first thing you ask as his face pops up on the screen.

he has a pout on his face and his eyes are narrowed “why haven’t you texted me y/n,” he sniffles slightly. “do you fucking hate me?” he asks, you start growing regretful of the decision you made as you hear how upset he sounds.

“what?” is all you can seem to say right now, which leaves him baffled.

“that’s all you’re gonna say?” he asks, venom lacing his tone for the first time in a while.

“yes, goodbye yeonjun.” you say before hanging up abruptly, leaving yeonjun shocked on the other end.

tomorrow, yeonjun’s definitely going to give you an earful.

—

FRIDAY.

today, yeonjun finally comes in. you sigh heavily, already knowing what’s about to come. you’re ready for him to talk your ear off but you weren’t ready for what he came in wearing.

he’s wearing a black wifebeater with a gray hoodie over it, black sweatpants and black converse. his long black hair is slightly disheveled from all the times he’s ran his hands through it. his plump lips, covered in moisturizer as they shine from the store lighting. makes you wonder what his lips would look like covered in your slick after licking you up so softly, slim fingers pumping in and out of your rough walls, hitting that same spot over, and over again.

get your head out of your ass y/n.

you shake off these thoughts, watching yeonjun walk up to the counter.

“can i talk to you in the back,” he asks with a fake smile gracing his face. you nod as you get up, telling your coworker to handle the register for you.

you and yeonjun both go to the back before you speak first.

“what are we in here for?” you question already knowing the answer. he rolls his eyes in annoyance, clicking his tongue.

“ever since you said you loved me in messages, which i knew was a mistake, you’ve been ignoring me. why is that?” he says ticking his head to the side.

you look up trying to find a valid response, “i don’t know yeonjun, maybe i just didn’t feel like texting you anymore after that?” you say, fake irritation lacing your tone.

his eyes widen in shock, “really y/n? that’s your excuse? that’s the dumbest shit i’ve ever heard, please be honest with me. you know i won’t judge anything you tell me.” he says, genuine anger starting to cover up his gentle tone.

you sigh, “i don’t know why honestly. yeonjun, you’ve been doing nothing but bothering me ever since last friday so, i don’t even understand how i could feel this way.”

yeonjun’s eyebrow raises, “feel what way?” you blink in shock.

“i’m pretty sure i have feelings for you.” you say, looking down at your shoes.

now it’s yeonjun’s turn to blink in shock, “oh wow.” he says looking over to the side.

“and y/n, why didn’t you tell me?” he asks. “because i wasn’t sure before and i tried to make myself lose feelings but, you kept doing all this sweet shit for me and i just couldn’t stop myself anymore. i really do like you, yeonjun.”

you both share a look before yeonjun glances down at your lips and you do the same to him.

his eyes dart back up to yours before he smiles gently.

“y/n, you know i like you back. i make it very clear but, i get why you were scared… i think. you were probably confused by the unfamiliar feeling, and i completely understand that.” he says, now speaking in his normal tone.

your face softens at the way he’s trying to understand where you’re coming from. you smile softly, making his eyes light up.

“that’s the first time i’ve ever seen you smile y/n,” he says with pure adoration glazing his naturally soft tone.

“yeah, i know,” you say with the smile still on your face.

“i’d like it if you smiled more around me, it’s really pretty,” he adds, watching you cover your face with your hands.

he brings his hand to your face, peeling your hands away. he licks his lips, implying that he obviously wants something.

“i already know what you want so just do it—” you say before he cuts you off, smashing his lips onto yours. even though you’re slightly caught off guard, you kiss back with just as much passion as him.

one of his hands are softly gripping onto your neck as the other is resting on your hip. both of your arms are slinging around his neck, moving into him deepening the kiss.

he moves the hand on your waist down to your thigh, tapping softly signaling you to jump up. doing so, he picks you up with ease resting you down on a small counter near the back room door. his left hand begins rubbing small circles into the flesh of your thigh, while his right hand is grabbing your chin to deepen the kiss even more with his tongue.

the slight intrusion of his tongue makes you softly moan into the kiss which has him lowering the kisses to your neck, he lightly sucks on your sweet spot drawing a delicious moan from you. he covers your mouth with his free hand, continuing to suck on that spot making you close your eyes in satisfaction.

he stops abruptly, a smug smile plastered on his face.

“i don’t think we should be doing this here, y/n,” he whispers with the same smile still on his face. you groan in annoyance, but think about how right he is.

“we can finish this back at my place, if you want?” he asks as he eyes you down with lust glazing over them. you nod bashfully, jumping off the counter gently patting down your clothing to try and make yourself look normal.

he does the same, fixing his hair and clothing. you both walk out before you ask your co-worker to clock you out when it’s time for your shift to end. they nod with a smile, already knowing what you’re about to be up to.

you smile back, walking out hand in hand with yeonjun, letting yeonjun take you to his place to have you however he would like to.

—

SATURDAY.

you wake up to find yourself in an unfamiliar space. you look over to find your clothes on the floor, along with someone else’s. they’re yeonjun’s. you finally realize what you’ve done, you slept with him.

you look down at your waist, seeing his arms wrapped around you. you try to get out of his grasp to go to the bathroom but he subconsciously tightens it, “y/nnn, where are you going?” he mumbles sleepily, pout resting on his face.

your face softens at the sound of his voice, “just to the bathroom jun, i’ll be back don’t worry,” you say. he hums in response, “my shirts are in the top left drawer and my boxers are right under that drawer.”

he releases his grasp on you and lets you get up to find clothing. you get up and walk to his drawer, picking the first pieces of clothing you see and putting them on. you walk over to his bathroom, taking a new toothbrush out of the pack.

you peek out the bathroom, seeing that yeonjun is still sleeping. you take a few minutes to brush your teeth and wash your face, coming up with the plan to make you and yeonjun breakfast.

you make your way to the kitchen, trying not to make any noise as you look for a frying pan. once you find one you turn on the stovetop, checking the fridge for any eggs. grabbing the carton, you crack a couple onto the already heated pan preparing an omelette.

you hear soft footsteps approaching you, feeling yeonjun’s arms wrap around you once again.

“good morning baby, what are you making?” he asks, looking over your shoulder to see what’s being made. he hums in delight, nuzzling his nose the crook of your neck, placing open mouthed kisses.

“jun stop, you’re distracting me,” he giggles, moving away from your neck to let you focus.

“how much longer is this gonna takeeee, i wanna cuddle with you,” yeonjun pleads, a small frown painting his features.

“i’m almost done, give me a sec,” you reply, plating both dishes & finally walking over to sit down next to yeonjun.

he smiles in glee, taking in the smell of the freshly-made breakfast. he pats the cushion next to him motioning for you to sit down as you hand him his plate.

“thank you pretty,” he says while cutting the omelette into a small enough bite for him to chew, humming in delight at the savory taste. you watch him with a mix of hopefulness & confusion swirling in your eyes, waiting for him to tell you he likes it.

he nods slowly, “i like it! it’s really good, your cooking is amazing y/n,” he smiles, taking another bite.

“thank you yeonjun,” you say as you begin to take small bites of your own food. you feel the male next to you wrapping his arm around your waist, leaning his head on your shoulder.

“i know this is sudden but, will you be my girlfriend? i really want you to be, it’d really mean the world to me… you can say no!” he mumbles at first, gradually increasing his volume. you stare at him dumbfounded, shocked he’d even think you’d want anything else more than that.

“it’s weird you’d think otherwise jun, i’d love to be your girlfriend.” you say, raising your hand to gently rub his cheek.

he melts into your touch, turning his head to kiss your palm.

“i’m glad, i love you so so much.”

“i love you so so much more.” you say, before pressing a soft kiss onto yeonjun’s lips.

2023 TTYUNZ.

taglist: @k-labels @boba-beom @bucketofhiros @yeofy @n0-thisispatrick @hyukafied @hyunimylove @luvsoobs @choiwrld @majestyjun @tyunkus @belovedxiao @h00nerz !

author’s note: this was kinda rushed i’m so sorry guys, i hope you enjoy! 🥹🥹

[kerrslvr]

london derby // sam kerr x beth england x reader

in which, after spurs vs chelsea ending in a draw, beth and sam end up winning your orgasms, which in that moment, is far better than a super league trophy.

warnings; 18+ strap ons, graphic smut, petnames, dom!sam, dom!beth, sub!reader, fingering, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, face sitting, probably more but writing this one fried my brain 👍🏼

this is basically just pwp. and it’s filth. and i haven’t written smut in months so it’s all a bit all over the place. but i was so excited to burst back onto the writing scene. sorry. enjoy lesbians xx

"hello?"

your voice echoed through the hotel room when you picked up the phone. it was late enough so that the sun had started to set, although, on a drizzly sunday in london, there wasn't much of a sun to set anyway.

at first you wondered who was calling the hotel phoneline. nobody really knew where you were staying other than your manager, who'd set you up in the hotel for a few days for work, but of course, when the voice sounded on the other end of the line; you realised it couldn't be anybody else.

"hey, sweetheart," beth's sickly sweet voice oozed through the phone, "still in london then, i hear?"

the smirk that planted itself on your lips was one you weren't quite able to remove, and your insides jumped at the thought of beth sneaking into your hotel room.

"yeah," you breathed, "how'd you know i was staying in walthamstow?"

"not just a pretty face, darling," you could hear the smugness in her voice before she'd even spoken, "now listen, i just had a shit game and need to blow off some steam, you up for it?"

after a day of trying to get a headstart on work before a busy few days, you really were up for it.

"you know i'm always up for it, bethy."

"good girl, i'll be there soon."

beth was a semi-frequent hook up of yours, and you both liked the company the other person gave you in and outside of the bedroom, she was older and the power she held was something you both enjoyed, yet she was able to be somebody you saw as a friend.

neither of you were ready for anything serious when you first started hooking up, and so it meant you could both get away with sleeping with other girls while she was at different places in the country.

plus, it also meant you'd gained quite the phonebook of famous faces, and interchanging which of beth's friends you'd chose to sleep with whenever they were playing near you was almost as fun as sleeping with beth herself.

you tried your hardest to keep yourself entertained while you waited, unpacking the rest of your things so they didn't crease in your suitcase, opening a bottle of wine from the mini fridge, you even managed to have just enough time for a quick shower.

as you tightened the belt on the hotel robe, there was a knock at the door in three quick successions, and if you were any more eager to get to the door you would've tripped over your own feet.

from outside the door, beth could hear the pitter-patter of your eager feet, and she waited patiently for you to unhook the latch.

"took long enough." you swung open the door, only to be greeted by not one, but two faces standing at your hotel room door.

there, standing in their respective training gear, stood beth and sam, her opponent from todays match, and another semi-frequent hook up of yours. you were positive your face went redder than a tomato, but your insides juxtaposed the feeling of embarrassment by backflipping into oblivion at the thought of what the two of them could do to you. together.

"had to make a quick pitstop," beth didn't wait for you to step aside so she could enter, and neither did sam. "do you know who sam is, darling? or do i need to make some introductions?"

they both stared at you blankly as you stood at the door, dumbfounded. in all the months you'd been hooking up with beth and her friends, you never expected to be caught out.

"beth's asking you a question, y/n. i suggest you answer her, and i suggest you tell the truth or else it won't end up very well for you, will it, princess?"

"n-no."

"no it won't end well, or no you don't know sam?" beth raised an eyebrow and admired you, as you stood there, silent. "come on, darling, you're on a clock here."

"n-no, it won't end well, yes, i know sam."

sam walked towards you, hands brushing against your robe, and it brought you back to reality. "and, how do you know sam?"

her hands slipped underneath the robe, fingertips cold against the soft, partially damp skin of your shoulders. she knew what she was doing, working you up, teasing you so you'd slip up and beth would know all your secrets. still, she'd probably fucked just as many of your friends as you had hers, so you figured you should call it even.

you looked up at sam, her brown eyes tantalizingly soft, despite holding so much dominance, so much eagerness to fuck the living daylights out of you.

"i know sam because, i, because we..." you took a moment to compose yourself, but sam's hands were roaming across your body under your pointless waffle robe, and beth was standing just as close to you now. "because we fuck too."

sam pushed at the hem of the robe, and it fell to your elbows, announcing your bare chest to the room. beth's hands carressed one of your boobs, and your nipple pebbled in the process. she couldn't help but let out a domineering chuckle.

"thank you for being honest, darling."

your breath hitched when sam's lips echoed the skin of your shoulder, leaving ghost-like kisses to your hot flesh. "you should know, neither of us are very happy. how long have you been lying?"

"not long."

beth's fingers pinched your nipple and you winced, "don't fucking lie."

"only a couple of months," your mouth worked faster than your brain in that moment, "we'd already been hooking up for a while when i started sleeping with sam, bethy. i promise 'm not lying."

sam's lips became more apparent on your skin, and beth continued to play around with your nipples, switching between the both of them with her soft but cold fingertips.

"you were so eager for this to happen that you didn't even bother putting on underwear, did you?" sam cooed, "i could see your tits through the robe before you'd even opened the fucking door."

sam's lips worked back up your arm, kissing around the curve of your boob until she'd latched herself onto a nipple, eliciting a moan from your mouth, and now beth had a free hand she was able to pull the robe off of your body completely, and she watched as your body ignited in goosebumps.

"you wanted this to happen, didn't you, baby? hm?" beth's hand instinctively wrapped around your neck and your lips parted. sam's hands took place of her mouth, pinching, rubbing and nicking at your nipples until they became puffy, just like she wanted them.

"i didn't know you were both going to show up," you shifted on your feet, and despite trying to help it, a smirk brushed across your cheeks, "but it was a nice surprise."

"god, you're in one of those insufferable fucking moods again," sam grunted, pinching both of your nipples together between her thumb and forefinger so hard it sent sharp jolts of pain up through your chest and down to your fingers. she turned to beth, as you reacted with a wince of pain.

"can you fucking stand her when she's in one of these moods?"

"she always seems to do it when she knows i'm pissed off with her, don't you babygirl?"

"no."

beth sucked her teeth, as if proving her point, and sam pulled you closer to her body by your nipples, and once again, instinctually wrapped her hand around your throat. the pain through your chest was intense, and sam's hand stopped a release of noise to tumble from your mouth.

"don't fucking lie," she said through gritted teeth, "beth's told you once, and if we tell you again you'll be left high and dry. do i make myself clear?"

silence fell upon the room and beth rolled her eyes, her hand coming into sharp contact with your bum as punishment for your lack of answer, and sam's hand contracted around your throat, "i said, do i make myself fucking clear?"

"y-yes." you choked out as best you could given your circumstance, and after sam left a hot, searing kiss to your lips, she pulled away from your throat as if she was never gripping it, although the mark of her hand across your neck said otherwise.

"right, here's whats going to fucking happen," beth tilted your face towards her, and you winced at the strain in your neck, "we are going to use you how we want, take out our frustrations on you, and all you have to do is lay there and take it. do you understand?"

"mhm," you nodded, voice gravelly, "i understand."

"good girl," sam cooed, "do you remember your colour system?"

if you weren't so desperate to be fucked you'd have slapped sam round the face. you introduced her - and beth - to the traffic light system. it was as if they were mocking you.

"yes," you breathed, "green for good, orange is i'm okay but i'm almost at my limit and red for stop."

beth's hand came around your face and you flinched, thinking she could read your mind and that she would slap you, but instead she caressed it slowly. "are you scared, angel?"

"n-no," you shrugged, "thought you were going to slap me."

"that's never made you flinch before, though love, has it?" sam cooed, unzipping her jacket and throwing it on top of your robe, and for a minute her face was lost in the fabric of her t-shirt until that too, landed in the pile of clothes behind you. it was as she sunk to her knees that you noticed the captains armband on her bicep, and you gulped. "but then again, maybe beth's doing it wrong."

beth simply rolled her eyes. they were friends, but they were also rivals, on the pitch, and now off the pitch, as they fought to make you cum.

you opened your mouth to speak, but instead the words caught in the back of your throat. sam's tongue trailed your pussy, purposely avoiding the two places you needed her the most, but that still didn't stop the tingling sensation in your tummy from building.

your eyes trailed to beth, who was also pulling her clothes from her body, the muscles in her arms flexing as she pulled off her shirt, and she too, was wearing her captains armband on her bicep, something that let a soft growl leave your lips.

sam's tongue finally found its rightful place on your clit and one hand immediately flung to her hair, a moan tumbling from your mouth. once beth was stripped down to her sports bra and underwear, she came around the back of you and kept you upright so you didn't hurt yourself.

if there was one thing you loved the most about hooking up with sam - it was her pussy eating. you could stand here in this moment for days and never get bored of the feeling. she loved knowing how much you loved it and she was a woman of her craft that never left you unsatisfied.

she settled into a comfier position and allowed herself to go to town on you, making you moan and cry within seconds of taking full control.

"does that feel good, darling?" beth asked, her hands cupping your tits and stimulating your puffy nipples as her lips grazed along your neck and sucked at the spot under your ear, making some blooming red spots of her own on your skin. your other hand found her wrist as you nodded.

"need.. m-more," you breathed, pushing her hand up to your neck, and both her and sam let out chuckles.

"god, youre so fucking needy," sam cooed, the vibrations of her voice making your clit twitch, "does it not embarrass you how needy you actually are?"

you bucked your hips up into sam's face after she'd spoken and it proved her point without you even opening your mouth. beth's lips were rampant on your neck, sucking harsh marks that were almost definitely already turning blue, and you sucked on her finger sloppily.

sam's tongue traced circles on your clit and your legs threatened to buckle at the embarrassing sensitivity. the bubble inside your stomach was building at a rapid rate and sam was purposely using that to her advantage, pulling your clit between her teeth and sucking on it as if it were a sweet.

you reached around to beth, fumbling for the line of her underwear, and when you slipped your finger under the waistband she gasped softly, allowing you to feel her as best you could.

the cotton was damp and you smirked around her finger as your own guided themselves as best they could to her clit through the awkward angle, and when your fingertip met with the bud she pulled away from your neck and bit the lobe of your ear.

"trying to make me cum too, princess? hm?" you nodded as an answer, unable to speak with her finger sitting on your tongue, "shouldn't you at least cum for sam first, baby?"

"she's far too greedy for that." sam's words were muffled and you ground yourself down onto her tongue, which only spurred her on further.

your pussy began to twitch, your breathing started to get heavier, and sam knew you were close to cumming, but she still expected you to ask.

"sam.. 'm gonna.. please can i-"

your own orgasm cut you off, ripping through your muscles like a knife and you were unable to control it. the hand that was in beth's underwear stilled and she held you in place by your neck so you didn't topple over onto the floor, and sam's tongue lay flat against your pussy as you rode out your orgasm.

sam's face glistened as she stood, and you couldn't help the urge to pull her in so you could taste yourself on her lips. she smirked against your skin, "one nil to me i'd say," sam looked across at beth, "what d'you think?"

"i think y/n's got a lot more where that one came from," she teased, releasing you from her grasp and pulling you across to the bed, "so really, sam, i'm not losing just yet."

you landed on the mattress with a soft thud, allowing the girls to admire you for a moment in the darkening room. sam undressed herself fully and crawled up onto the bed first, swiftly followed by beth, and the pair of them hovered over your face. the next few minutes were a blur of lips, unsure of who was kissing who, but it was a sight to behold.

"are you gonna stay nice and still for me, darling?" beth cooed into your ear, sending goosebumps over your arms. all you could do was nod, "i would say you need to stay quiet too, but i can read sam's mind like a book."

the pair of them shared a growing smirk, and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion until you watched sam hook her leg over your chest so she was straddling you, "i'll make sure she stays quiet and still, so don't worry too much about that."

beth's lips traced your hipbones, kissing along every inch of flesh until your leg flinched, while sam eased herself up and up until her pussy was inches from your face. your hands wrapped around her thighs to keep her in place - and to keep them from wandering down to usher beth to hurry up - and she teased you by using her strength to hover above you until beth was ready.

"what's your colour, sweetheart?"

"green, bethy."

one of sam's hands came down and brushed beth's bum as she moved further down your body, a gesture that sent your mind into a frenzy and you whimpered at the sight; although you knew better than to make too much of scene out of the ordeal.

your clit twitched at the sensation of spit trickling around it, and beth was doing her age-old spit trick to lube you up; not that you really needed it.

in the blink of an eye, sam had lowered herself right down onto your face until you had no choice but to use your tongue. you were nowhere near as good as sam or beth - they had a lot more years of experience than you did - but you were damn good.

as your tongue began to kitten lick sam's clit, beth's finger slid knuckle by knuckle deeper into your pussy, and you mewled at the sensation. sam's hands grabbed your boobs for balance, and she began to rock her hips in time with your tongue.

"fucking hell, i forgot how good this tongue really was," sam pulled up and let you regain some air, "hold it still for me then, angel. you know what i want to do."

you poked out your tongue, mouth slack and wide and you let sam sink back down onto it, riding it as if it were a dildo. she pinched a nipple in the process and a whimper tumbled from your mouth and vibrated around her right as beth added another finger, this time your pussy comfortable enough for her to push through further.

"should really have your pussy filled more often, shouldn't you, darling? it's so tight, like a little virgin. i bet you can't wait for one of us to fill it later."

"one of us?" sam questioned, sounding as cool as ever despite your tongue being an inch deep inside her, "i'm just as eager to fill it as you are."

the exchange of words was met with a garbled moan, and you pulled your tongue from sam's pussy so you could breathe momentarily, and you allowed yourself to moan at the movement of beth's fingers, silently praying for her to add another finger.

sam rocked back and forth on your tongue once more, and you licked around her swollen clit every time the tip of your tongue came into contact with it, while beth added another finger inside of you.

your palms started to sweat and you dug your fingers into the muscly flesh of sam's thigh so you were able to keep ahold of her while beth's tongue came into contact with your clit. you took a leaf out of her book and began to mimic the movements of her tongue on sam, to which she let out a loud moan of appreciation.

"god, you've got such a pretty pussy." beth cooed as she pulled away, and when sam leaned down to rub the tip of her nose around your clit and trickle a line of spit down the valley of your walls to meet beth's fingers, you struggled to keep your rhythm.

beth teased you by dragging another finger around your entrance and eagerly licked your sensitive clit in quick motions so you were left a wriggling, moaning mess. your moans vibrated along sam's pussy and she too, was a wriggling, moaning mess on top of you.

your grip released from sam's thigh and you tapped beth's leg, motioning for her to swing her hips round to your hands, which she did, and once again, your fingers found her pussy. beth took a sharp intake of breath and a moan tumbled from her lips when your middle finger began to circle her clit, and now the room was a cacophony of moans that warranted a neighbors complaint.

sam's hips began to rock over your face quicker now that she was starting to feel her orgasm approach, expletives consistently leaving her mouth as one of her hands moved up to her nipple and she played with it in time with yours.

you pushed beth's underwear down her legs as best you could with one hand, and you now had the perfect angle to slide a finger inside of her, and as you slid one into her, she slowly added the third, teasing finger inside you and she was able to let her moans reverberate across your sensitive pussy.

"oh, fucking hell, 'm gonna cum if you keep eating my pussy like that, baby," sam pulled away from your tongue for a second, and you were able to get a small glimpse of beth eating your pussy and moaned, "oh, you like that, do you?"

in response to sam's question, your pussy clenched and despite her not being able to feel it, she sensed the answer was yes.

"clenching all over my fingers, babygirl? god, you're so desperate to cum, aren't you?" beth asked, resting her head on your thigh as she watched her wet fingers slip in and out of you, "if you're that fucking desperate with just my fingers inside of you, i dread to think how desperate you'll be when i resort to other measures."

"get in fuckin' line, beth," sam groaned, slotting herself back over your face, "i'm still the only one out of the two of us thats made her cum so far."

you knew your orgasm wouldn't be much longer, and so you sped up the movement of your finger inside beth, adding a second and a third in quick motions. your jaw started to ache, and sam's hips started to rock back and forth much faster than they were before; she too, wanted to cum just as much as you did.

you continued to clench around beth's fingers and when she curled them up to your g-spot repeatedly, you were unable to control your body's reflexes. beth smirked and her mouth latched to your clit again, wanting desperately to taste you as you came.

"she's gonna cum, look at her poor little legs thrashing around," sam noted, leaning forward to grip at your thighs so they didn't thrash as much as they originally were. your fingers dug into sam's thigh as harsh as they could to let her know she was correct, but she leaned down so her hand brushed your throat, "you'll wait for me and beth to cum first before you do, do you understand?"

you mewled against sam's pussy and as a response, beth slapped your swollen clit, "do not make me ask again," sam spoke harshly. as a response, you just nodded. "good girl, now get on with it."

your tongue had never moved as fast as it did in that moment, and you curled your fingers inside beth just as she had done inside you, and both of them were left moaning, wriggling messes. it was quite fun to be on this side of the window, but you'd much rather be the one receiving than the one giving. especially when their head was as good as it was.

sam came first, her entire body shaking and her clit twitching as your name left her mouth repeatedly, and beth came not too much longer after, rocking back on your fingers and leaving you desperate for a release. your pussy ached, and your throat was dry, and now, you really were embarrassed about how desperate you were.

"p-please. c-can i cum now?"

sam moved so she was facing you, and she admired your face that was glistening with her wetness, while beth's lips dragged soft kisses across your pubic bone.

"i dunno," sam answered, turning to look at beth, "what do you think?"

beth's fingers curled inside of you once more and your body rippled at the sensation, "i think she's been good enough, if a little greedy."

and that was all the answer you needed. sam's mouth found one of your nipples and her hand focused on the other, while beth's focus was solely on your pussy. she loved watching it clench and drip as she fingered it and licked it. your legs began to tremble uncontrollably, and nobody was going to stop the earthquake of an orgasm that shattered through your body.

you moaned louder than you expected at the stimulation you were getting from all over, and your body couldn't hold back the aftershocks that rippled through it. the loud, wet noises of beth slurping up all your wetness left your mind reeling, and it was even worse when she began to exchange the liquid between the three of you, as if she was a mother bird feeding her children.

"jesus, you taste so fucking sweet," sam noted, wiping the trail of spit that fell from your lip and sucking it into her own mouth, "i could taste you every single day."

"join the club," beth replied, admiring her work of your limp body. she stuck a finger in your mouth and let you suck off the remaining juices to keep you occupied while she spoke to sam, "you or me first?"

"oh well, i think it's only fair y/n shows you how incredible her tongue really is," sam's cocky smirk came back, "unless you'd rather let me have a second ride."

beth rolled her eyes and you couldn't help but flicker your gaze between the two of them. "i don't mind going second, means shes going to be uncontrollable," she looked down at you and stroked your face with the hand that was just in your mouth, and a damp trail of her spit covered finger was left across your cheek, "colour, darling?"

"i'm. uh, green. i think."

"you think?" sam asked, genuinely a bit concerned. "if you want to stop, darling all you have to do is say."

"n-no, i don't, not yet," your hand found hers in a sweet gesture, "i'm just getting a little tired, but im green."

sam placed a kiss to your hand and beth stroked your cheek, "you know we'll take excellent care of you, don't you, princess?"

you nodded in response, and sam released your hand so she could walk to her overnight bag, fumbling for whatever it was she was looking for. while she did that, beth caught you in a steamy make out and was able to shift you around, so she was now laying back on the pillows and you were hovering over her, your ass already perked up and waiting eagerly for sam's return.

you were so eager to finally taste beth that you didn't even hear the shuffling of sam's feet on the floor. you didn't notice her presence behind you until you felt the cold sensation of lube trickling down your thighs.

your fingers massaged the skin around beth's pussy and you turned round to face sam, standing behind you adorning your favourite strap of hers. it made you feel all warm and mushy inside knowing that her and beth brought your favourite toys with them so they could watch you crumble.

"why've you turned round, darling?" sam asked, her hand working up and down the shaft of the penis harnessed around her waist, "shouldn't you be making beth cum?"

you mewled at the mixture of the sight before you and the words leaving her lips, and then you felt beth's hand on your chin, yanking you back around to face her. "don't focus on sam, y/n. focus on me. understand?"

her voice was stern, but she had a soft look in her eyes.

"yes, beth, i understand."

she kissed you softly and then her hands juxtaposed her actions when she forced your head down to her crotch. as soon as your tongue came into contact with beth's clit, her head landed on the headboard and her eyes rolled back into her head, she was already sensitive and the sight of you about to be fucked by one of her friends was already sending her into overdrive.

as you got into a slow, soft rhythm, sam slid herself inside you and the stretch made you cry. sam's hips forced closer and closer to your bum until the strap was all the way inside of your pussy and it left you reeling.

you waved your hand across your back and sam grabbed ahold of your fingers, looping them together with hers. "everything okay?"

"mhm," you nodded, lifting your head up from beth's crotch, "jus' need you to stay there for a minute."

beth smirked up at sam, "bless her, she's really not been fucked in a long time, has she?"

"clearly not," sam pulled out and repeated the action, her hips drawing closer and closer to your skin, "do all the other girls not fuck you as good as us, baby? hm?"

"n-no," you choked out, "you two are the b-best."

your mind reeled as you slipped your tongue between beth's folds, and you soon realised that you would end up doing anything they wanted you to in that moment, and you knew they knew that too.

your body reacted quicker than you did as sam's hips began to thrust in an even rhythm, allowing you to adjust and wriggle accordingly. beth's moans were like sweet music to your ears as you continued to eat her out. her sweaty body was shaking with adrenaline, and the need to cum by your mouth, and you wished you could stay in the moment forever.

"less admiring, more eating," beth stated, punctuating herself with a slap to your cheek that was light enough to not hurt but daring enough to leave you reeling, "or else we'll tie you up in the corner and watch us do it to each other while you sit there crying."

"she'd probably fucking enjoy that," sam muttered, every word formed with a thrust, "but then again i couldn't stand to listen to her incessant whining."

"your choice, sweetheart."

your body was reeling now, and you knew it wouldn't be long before your third orgasm of the night washed over you, but you wanted to put all of your remaining effort into beth. you struggled to find a rhythm that your exhausted tongue could keep up with, and then beth started to grind her hips and it felt much easier for you to keep up with getting her to cum.

"starting to wear out, darling?" beth asked, a question that wasn't patronizing on paper, but in execution.

"mhm," you mumbled as you continued your plight, "but i wanna k-keep going."

"christ, you're like a bitch in heat," sam said, her own hips struggling to find rhythm at the nearing of her release, "can't seem to throw in the towel, can you baby?"

you shook your head and the feeling of your tongue sliding along beth's pussy made her jolt, and you completed the action until her mouth went slack. her hands grabbed bunches of your hair and held you in place as her second orgasm washed through her, your name tumbling out of her mouth like a mantra.

"sam... i... i don't know how much longer i can hold it," you croaked once beth had released your head. "p-please."

you reached around and grabbed sam's hand, and she held it at your lower back as she regained a newfound force to fuck you with, shoving you forward until your face landed in the space of duvet between where beth's legs were previously placed.

you didn't even realise beth had moved away from her spot in front of you until you felt her fingers circling your clit. your mind went numb in that moment as you struggled to find the words to announce that you were cumming, instead just a slur of screams and swears all rolled into one.

beth's hand came into contact with the skin of your cheeks and you hummed as you came to, "still feeling up for one more round?" she asked, "it'll be over so quickly, darling. you'll barely even feel it."

"o-okay," you nodded, and leaned in for a kiss which beth obliged, "but only if i get to sit between sam's legs so i can rest."

your eyes fell on sam as she slipped her legs out of the strap harness, and she'd never looked at you with so much care in her eyes before. "of course you can," she kissed your head, "our sleepy little girl."

your pussy was aching so much by this point, but you absolutely loved the way beth fucked you, and you weren't letting the evening end without feeling her for at least a few minutes. sam got comfy, her legs spreading out wide that her ankles hung over the edges of the bed, leaving you plenty of room to get comfy between them.

your head fell to the crook of her neck and she hooked her arms underneath yours so she was able to play with your nipples, and coax along your orgasm by flicking your clit if it was needed.

you watched beth with hooded eyes as she put on her strap harness, adorning your favourite strap of hers much like sam had done, and if you weren't so exhausted it would've amused you that they probably planned this prior to today's game.

it worked in beth's favour that you were clinging onto the edge of consciousness. she knew she'd end up getting waterworks and this was her favourite part of having sex with you - you didn't give up until you had nothing left to give.

"remember, darling, if you want to stop at anytime, all -"

"- i have to do is say red, i know," you nodded, your hair tickling sam's chin as beth lined up in front of you, "i remember."

"of course you do," she smirked, and punctuated her next sentence by gently easing her dick inside of you, "our clever little girl."

you gasped at the feeling of another dick sliding easily inside of you. this one was slightly curved, meaning it hit your g-spot almost instantly when beth hit the right angle.

sam’s hands wandered around your sweaty body, her damp finger pads drawing soft, gentle circles over your nipples that made them feel as if they were on fire.

beth knew she didn’t have time to waste, and so she flung one of your legs over her shoulder, and it earned her a rather excitable moan from you. the angle felt much better now, and her dick hit your g-spot with such ease that it left you feeling dizzy.

“f-fuck, beth, c-can you feel it?”

“i can feel it all, princess,” she oozed confidence and it sent a swarm of butterflies into your lower stomach, “i love it when your body’s got a mind of it’s own, can’t you feel yourself dripping down your legs?”

you shook your head at her question, and while one of sam’s hands stayed firmly planted on your nipple, one travelled down south to your clit, which throbbed as she touched it.

“y/n,” sam’s breath was hot on your neck as her lips travelled across the red skin, “you’re so fucking wet it’s unbelievable.”

“i-i can’t feel it,” your eyebrows furrowed, “w-why can’t i feel it?”

“because you’re being fucked so good, babe,” beth changed her angle again, this time bringing herself lower so she was closer to your face, and the hit of the g-spot felt exceptionally good now, and she smirked when you moaned again, “see?”

sam rolled her eyes but you chose to ignore their playful banter and focus on your imminent orgasm. beth’s thrusts were strong, and you watched as her dick slipped in and out of your pussy, each time trickles of wetness fell onto the duvet and made the bed wetter and wetter.

“do you trust me?” she asked.

“always,” you replied, “i’ll always trust you. both of you.”

“good, cause once i do this we all know what’s going to happen, and it’s going to be messy.”

beth hooked your other leg over her shoulder, and you screamed out at the pleasure coursing through your body. her dick was relentlessly hitting your g-spot with every thrust, and your body began to thrash at the sheer pleasure it was feeling.

sam tried her best to hold you down while flicking your clit, her lips nibbling your ear as she watched with eager eyes and anticipation.

“b-beth…. ‘m gonna…. can’t hold it any longer.”

within seconds of the broken sentence leaving your lips, your body went limp. you’d well and truly lost control of your clenching muscles and couldn’t stop the release from happening even if you wanted to.

the bedsheets underneath you grew in wetness, and felt as if they’d been soaked in a bathtub. sam’s fingers continued to toy with your clit as your muscles continued to contract and release bodily fluids all over the three of you, particularly yours and sam’s legs and beth’s face, but none of you minded.

you managed to conjure up enough strength in your weak arms to push sam’s hand away from your pussy when you’d eventually stopped cumming, and beth slid off the strap and came to your aid almost immediately after that.

the two of them shifted you so you were sat in the middle of them, your dead weight, exhausted body split between the two of them. sam wiped the dampness from your cheek while beth kissed your temple, both of them consistently praising how well you did, how proud they were.

“you did such a good job tonight, babe,” sam noted, shifting her weight slightly so she could reach across to the table at the side of the bed and grab your bottle of water, “what do you need now? here, drink.”

sam held the bottle to your lips and you glugged the liquid eagerly, and as the water brought you back to a sense of life, you felt embarrassed about your appearance.

“i, uh, i’d quite like a bath.”

“we can run you a bath,” beth kissed your temple again, and soon her fingers entwined with yours, “want us to stay? or go?”

“i want you to stay,” you mumbled, your mouth working faster than your brain, “both of you, just for a bit.”

sam rolled off the bed and scooped you up between her arms, carrying you slowly towards the bathroom as beth darted in to run your bath.

“okay,” sam looked down at your exhausted figure, “we’ll stay. for a while.”

[most-normal-eccles-cake-ignorer]

Good Omens: Lockdown and Crowley not mentioning his living situation in S2*

*till S2E6 when he asks if he can have his apartment back bc he's bored of living in his car but Aziraphale doesn’t hear bc mentally he’s in Alpha Centauri.

Having read the 'Crowley doesn't tell him' Neil Gaiman ask close to when I first listened to Lockdown (I lived under a rock until recently), my initial thought was HAS HE BEEN LIVING IN HIS CAR FOR YEARS?! but I think he was still in his apartment in 2020:

as far as Hell knows, Crowley just had a pool party in holy water (the holiest) so the higher-ups are probably willing to give him some space (plus Beelzebub is busy going on pub dates w Gabriel)

while there should be ~8 months between the end of Season 1 events (The Very First Day of the Rest of Their Lives on Sunday, Aug 25, 2019) and the Lockdown phonecall (on or near the 30 year anniversary on May 1, 2020), I can't imagine that's a very long time for Hell, especially if you're understaffed and busy dealing with fallout from Almostgeddon / going on pub dates

Shax dropping off mail and asking about the boiler seems like something one does in the first few months of living somewhere, not ~3 years in (if S2 is in 2023)

That said, I think the phone call underlines why Crowley never directly tells Aziraphale that he is living in the Bentley in S2, and it's just a great conversation (all hail Gaiman) sooo I wrote about it:

***Note: This post analyzes the Lockdown phonecall from Crowley's perspective only. Our heroine is feeling quite emotionally vulnerable at this point in time so things are going to hit him harder than they normally would.

I do not think Aziraphale meant to cause him pain (!!) but Crowley can't see that yet and I've written this post in a way that reflects that missing insight. (I explain in more detail in this reblog if you are interested) I am working on a companion post for Aziraphale's side of this conversation and how I think it affects his behavior in S2 because if we know anything about these two, it's that their exactlys are different exactlys.***

Crowley’s habit of sleeping to skip time like an RPG character by a campfire amuses me to no end, but in this context it feels heavy. Crowley already worries about losing time with what he loves and he probably hoped things would be different between him and Aziraphale after the events of S1. But things don’t change much. Then lockdowns start, and Crowley is trapped in his apartment alone, transcendentally bored, and unable to make his brain shut up. Sleeping a month away starts to sound less awful.

But Crowley hasn’t given up yet; he’s still awake when Aziraphale calls, and he’s even giving it two more days. Was he waiting for Aziraphale to call? Is it even possible not to at least kind of wait for someone’s call when you are cut off from everything and the caller has been your only friend and crush for millennia?

Aziraphale asks why Crowley isn't "out and about" tempting people or setting a bad example and he responds:

C: Everyone's so miserable and cooped up right now anyway, and I just… well… don't have the heart for it. A: *glowing audibly* I'm not miserable~ C: Really?

Crowley sounds genuinely surprised at Aziraphale's happiness and quickly assumes it's because the angel has been around people. He's so lonely/depressed/in his own head that he hadn't even considered someone enjoying being 'cooped up'. *sob*

Aziraphale goes No actually I put the closed sign up in the window and I'm having the Time of My Life, never had so few customers, not in 200 years!, etc. Although, he says:

A: …There were a few young lads a couple of nights ago who broke in through the back and tried to steal the cashbox! But they soon saw the error of their ways~ C: *clearly amused* Did you smite them with your wroth? A: Well I certainly gave them a good talking to, and I sent each of them home with cake~ C: *annoyed, swooning* Cake? A: Quite a lot of cake, actually. C: *physically ill from having such a giant crush on this dumbass baker/security guard* eeeekkkgghhh I'm gonna regret asking but.. ...rrgh.. *30 seconds of Aziraphale joyfully describing his baking while Crowley probably tries very hard not to imagine the angel eating each item in sensual slow motion* I stg you can hear him struggling in the background once or twice

A: …And once I've baked them, I have to eat them all myself, which was why I was so delighted— C: To send your burglars home laden with baked goods, yes, nnyeaayeah I follow…

Crowley interrupts, finishing Aziraphale's sentence in his nervous hurry to say the next bit:

C: *loud inhale* You know, I could.. hunker down at your place. … Slither over and watch you eat cake. I could bring a bottle--a case of… something… drinkable…?

He's trying to sound so casual about it but this is someone who was rejected/abandoned by actual literal God after asking what he thought were welcome, uncontroversial questions. Asking makes him vulnerable. He's supposed to be the rescuer, not a demon in distress. He does not feel casual about asking.

Crowley knows it's unlikely but he's so miserable and desperate for company that he can't help but ask, just in case. Even the smallest chance of spending time trapped indoors with Aziraphale—with nothing to do but drink, watch him eat, and talk about things they'd normally avoid—is too tempting.

A: *panicking* Oh I— I— I— I— I'm afraid that would be Breaking All The Rules! *nervous breathing* Out of the question! I'll see you… when this is over. C: Right. gnnehh. I'm setting the alarm clock for July. Good night, angel. *dial tone*

And just like that, Crowley doesn't need two days to decide. The depression nap doubles in length. He doesn't hear how badly Aziraphale wants to say yes behind the fear, or maybe he does and it hurts worse because why isn't Crowley enough for him? You can almost hear the spiralling:

SHOCKING, asking made it worse. It always does doesn’t it? Why even bother? you just embarrass yourself.. SLITHER over? why did I say that *grumble grumble* of COURSE His Holy Holiness, your only friend in the universe, would rather eat cake by himself while everything goes to shit than ~deign~ to have you in his presence. "AsK aND yE sHaLl ReCeIvE" bugger this for a lark im going to bed

(a bit dramatic but we've all been there)

I imagine sleep doesn't come right away. Maybe his thoughts drift to when he sat beside the angel at a dark Tadfield bus stop after a rather eventful Saturday. Crowley must've felt a tiny bit hopeful when he invited Aziraphale to stay with him: Heaven had withdrawn its favor and the bookshop was gone; Aziraphale was like him now. Didn't that mean things would change?

"I don't think my side would like that." Apparently not.

In the end, Aziraphale did ride the bus back to Crowley's apartment and stayed till the next morning when he caught a cab, but only to sell the illusion. Crowley understood that as far as sides went, the angel was still on Heaven's, even if Heaven wasn't on his.

And now this: the entire world is shut down; there is nothing for Aziraphale to do but stay in and read and bake in his magically reconstituted bookshop and he still won't invite Crowley in. Burglars and un-fallen angels only—nobody who asks questions.

So... of course Crowley doesn't tell Aziraphale when he loses his apartment. He already knows what answer he would get; the angel has told him so many times. Aziraphale is a company man first, a companion to one very sad owl when convenient.

If Crowley works up the courage to say 'please take me in, I have nowhere else to go' and Aziraphale goes 'sorry, no, far too political, but I WILL risk being erased from the Book of Life to protect this nude amnesiac former coworker who always hated me,' it's going to be too much. You can't sleep long enough for that type of hurt to go away. Better not to say anything.

"Then nothing has to change, does it?"

[deerlino]

Hiya, I adore your fics, they are so amazing and sweet! ❤️‍🩹 Could I request a fic?? Could you do producer! F! Reader x han? Like they're in a secret relationship and they get caught?? 😂 Could you please make it slightly cracky but also extremely fluffy??

caught in the mix.

han jisung x fem!reader / you and jisung are both producers at the same company, secretly dating. but your cover gets blown, and everyone finds out about your relationship.

additional tags / producer!jisung x producer!reader, (domestic) fluff, secret relationship, getting caught, canon compliant, workplace romance, established relationship, humor, crack, teasing & banter — 773 words in total.

content warnings / mild swearing, kissing (soft kisses, kisses on the neck, some intense moments of kissing)

authors note @ 15092000volcano / this was super cute to write! <3 i haven't done many jisung fics, so i was really excited to get this request. 😋 plus, i’m obsessed with the producer trope right now, so it was the perfect way to spend my sunday evening. thanks, anon, for the sweet request and the kind words about my work—it means a lot! hope you love the fic! 💓

You’re in a dimly lit recording studio, hidden away from the prying eyes of the world. The place is familiar, almost like a second home, except for one crucial detail: this is where you and Jisung have been sneaking off to. You glance over at him as he tinkers with the mixing board, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the computer screen. He catches your eye and shoots you a quick wink, causing your heart to skip a beat.

“Hey, love,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. “Pass me the headphones?”

You slide them over, your fingers brushing against his for a fleeting moment. The touch sends a shiver down your spine, and you wonder how long you can keep this secret from the rest of the team. It’s not that you want to hide your relationship, but you know how chaotic things can get with everyone involved.

Suddenly, the door bursts open, and Chan strides in, his usual confident swagger in place. He freezes mid-step when he sees you and Jisung huddled together.

“Uh, am I interrupting something?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

You both jump apart like you’ve been electrocuted, and Jisung clears his throat awkwardly. “Nope, just, uh, working on a new track.”

Chan’s eyes narrow, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. “Right. Working. Sure.” He gives you a pointed look before sauntering out, leaving you both in a flustered silence.

“Well, that was close,” you mutter, trying to steady your racing heart.

Jisung chuckles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Don’t worry, babe. We just need to be more careful.”

The next day, you’re in the kitchen, trying to make coffee without waking up the whole house. Jisung sneaks up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You lean into his touch, a content sigh escaping your lips.

“Morning,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your neck.

“Morning,” you reply, turning to kiss him properly.

Just as your lips meet, the door swings open again. This time, it’s Felix, his hair a mess and his eyes half-closed. He stops dead in his tracks, blinking rapidly as if he’s not sure he’s really seeing this.

“Oh my God,” Felix says, his voice a mixture of disbelief and amusement. “Are you two...?”

You and Jisung spring apart again, but it’s too late. Felix is already grinning like the Cheshire cat. “This is gold. I can’t wait to tell the others.”

“Felix, no!” you plead, but he’s already out the door, cackling.

Later, you’re sitting in the living room, pretending to watch TV, but your mind is elsewhere. Jisung is next to you, his hand discreetly resting on your thigh. You’re trying to act natural when Seungmin strolls in, phone in hand.

He takes one look at you two and snorts. “You guys are terrible at hiding this, you know?”

Jisung tries to play it cool. “Hiding what?”

Seungmin rolls his eyes. “Please, I’ve seen more subtlety in a sledgehammer. Just be glad it’s me and not someone with a camera.”

Your face heats up, and you bury it in Jisung’s shoulder, mumbling something about how you’re trying your best. Jisung just laughs, pulling you closer.

As the day goes on, you and Jisung keep getting caught. Jeongin walks in on you sharing a secret kiss in the hallway and immediately turns on his heel, muttering about how he didn’t need to see that. Hyunjin catches you holding hands under the table and just smirks, giving you a knowing look. Even Minho, who’s usually oblivious to everything, notices the way you and Jisung look at each other and shakes his head with a sigh.

Finally, the inevitable happens. You’re in the studio again, thinking you’re safe. Jisung has you pressed against the wall, his lips on yours, when the door flies open. This time, it’s everyone—all of them, standing there with various expressions of shock, amusement, and exasperation.

“Seriously?” Chan groans, rubbing his temples. “Can you two not keep it in your pants for one minute?”

Felix is laughing so hard he’s doubled over, while Hyunjin and Jeongin exchange high-fives. Seungmin just looks resigned, and Minho’s smirk is wider than ever.

You and Jisung separate, both of you blushing furiously. “Well,” you say, trying to salvage some dignity. “Surprise?”

“Yeah, no shit,” Chan says, but he’s smiling now. “Just... next time, maybe lock the door?”

Jisung chuckles, pulling you into his side. “Noted, boss.”

As everyone piles into the room, the teasing starts in earnest. You feel a warmth spreading through you, knowing that even though you’ve been caught, you’re surrounded by people who care about you.

© deerlino (est. 100624) ༯ heyo, did you enjoy this piece? if you did, maybe you could reblog, drop a comment, or shoot me an ask to let me know your thoughts. also, feel free to check out my other stuff! thanks a bunch for the support! <3

[thepascalofus]

First Date

AO3

Pre-outbreak/No-outbreak!Joel Miller x Home Depot Worker!f!Reader

Word Count: 5.5k

Summary: Working at Home Depot was lack-luster. The paint department brought in a variety of customers, the majority of them just buying their paint and leaving. Then Joel Miller comes in--looking to repaint his daughters bedroom.

Content Warnings/Tags: Pre-outbreak/No-outbreak, reader works at Home Depot, fluff, meet-cute, rude customer, Joel defends you, eventual smut (next part), eventual first date, no descriptions for reader, no y/n.

A/N: Got this as a request! There will be another part with smut.

“More saving. More doing. That’s the power of the Home Depot.”

The wannabe gruff voice of the Home Depot narrator echoed throughout the large cement warehouse. It was Sunday, only two hours until close, and the store was virtually dead.

A large rectangular box of a warehouse was your place of employment for the time being. Orange decorated aisle after aisle, and employee after employee. Some employees decorated their aprons in paint and pins, showing their years of employment and dedication to their jobs. Others simply had their name written on their apron, just like how they simply showed up to work and left.

After moving out of the house you shared with your ex and into your own place, you needed the extra income to supplement your new rent and the remaining rent you owed on your shared lease. 

Home Depot was hiring—and was desperate—because you got employed in the paint department.

Making paint wasn’t hard at all. It was the shitty customers that ruined it. Customers would demand to see a manager after you told them their paint wasn’t ready—even though they asked for three five-gallon buckets, and ten single gallons, fifteen minutes ago. People would order the same amount in a color they swore they would love, and then attempted to return it the next day, even though NO REFUNDS was printed in bold on the Home Depot paint sticker. 

But, working behind the paint counter had its perks. You could stay in one place in the store, telling customers who needed help with complicated items that you, “had to stay and watch the desk.” Plus the desk had a phone, which allowed you to call any department, so your more knowledgeable coworkers could take over tough questions.

The only types of customers left at this hour were those that had emergencies, and those that liked to put things off until the last minute. 

Getting tired of sitting behind the desk’s computer on your phone, you got up and walked the three aisles that made up the department. Your footsteps lightly tapped against the gray concrete of the floor. With each step, you scanned the shelves and the floor for anything out of place. Returning misplaced items was an easy task that helped you eat away at the remaining time of your shift. 

A tube of caulk was placed right in the middle of the gallons of wood stain—classic. You reached downwards to retrieve the tube and stood back up, pacing down the shelves of orange towards the caulking aisle. The music over the loudspeakers was just quiet enough to hear the surrounding conversations in the other aisles.

One voice echoed to you louder than the rest. Randy’s voice.

Randy was a retired mechanic. Most of his skills were applicable to the questions customers often had. The man had wiry, white hair that peaked out from this Home Depot baseball cap he wore everyday. His apron was covered in various stains of grease and dirt, his name scrawled in Sharpie on the upper right corner of the orange fabric.

From a couple aisles over, his gruff voice made its way towards you, “Ah! Paint for a bedroom…Well let’s see, is this a kids bedroom?”

A deep, Texan drawl replied to Randy, “It is, ‘s fer my daughter. She wan’ed her room repainted for her birthday. She’s turnin’ thirteen. Says she needs to get rid’a the ‘baby colors’ from when she was lil’.”

Randy let out a hearty laugh, followed by a muted smack, likely from giving the man a pat on the back, “I know how that feels,” Randy paused to let out another laugh, “My daughter is in her twenties now, but she was the same way as yours. Thirteen hit and she insisted she was allll grown up.”

You retreated to the paint desk with a small smile on your face, it was nice that the man wanted to repaint for his daughter. Your watch told you it was an hour and thirty until close. This customer just had to wait until the last minute, though.

The unknown man let out a chuckle at Randy’s anecdote. Slow, muted steps from both men made their way towards the paint department’s aisles. One of the men let out a deep sigh.

“Thing is, I dunno a single thing ‘bout what colors’ll look nice together.”

The footsteps came closer and the two men appeared in your vision. One central aisle lined up with the paint desk, making somewhat of a runway for customers to walk on to come and request paint. Randy looked down the aisle and his gaze met yours, “Oh! There she is,” Randy said your name to the man, “she knows a ton about colors, I’m sure she could help ya more than I can.”

Randy truly was a nice man. He helped you deal with rude customers. Showed you basic tips and tricks. Ate with you in the break room on occasion.

But, c’mon Randy.

The old man continued walking towards the break room and left the man standing at the end of the aisle. You looked down, pretending you didn’t hear the majority of their conversation. Organizing the paint samples became a very consuming task. Heavy steps made their way closer and closer until your peripheries were consumed with the navy blue color of the Texan’s shirt.

His large hands rested on the desk’s countertop. Thick digits were covered in calluses. Before you could observe his fingers more, he cleared his throat.

“‘Scuse me, miss. S’wondering if you could help me w’ somethin’,” the man drawled out.

Your eyes looked up from the desk, and they widened in surprise. The front of his shirt had orange letters displayed on the front: MILLER CONTRACTING LLC. 

Most contractors that ventured into the paint department weren’t as…put together as this man was. The usual paint covered pants and shirt weren’t present on this contractor. The navy blue of his work shirt spanned across his wide chest and even wider shoulders. Sleeves hugged his biceps deliciously. If he moved his arms any more you were worried the sleeves would rip. Not that you’d complain.

Then you looked up to meet his eyes.

His eyes.

Brown irises held eye contact with you. They were deep, warm. Inviting. The color made you think of a teddy bear. Soft and comforting. Brown hair on his head and face matched his eyes. The hair on his head consisted of messy waves combed to one general side, probably from a sweep of his fingers. Short, dark brown hairs made up his beard and mustache. Each facial hair component framed handsome features. A strong jaw was framed by his beard, and plush lips were framed by the ‘stache. 

The same lips were forming a smile spanning across his face. His eyes crinkled and displayed slight lines near the corners. Lines developed from years of laughter and smiles.

Realizing you looked at him blankly for a second too long, you snapped out of your trance, “O-of course! What do you need help with?”

His hands came up off of the counter and rested on his hips. “Well, y’see, it’s my daughters thirteenth birthday comin’ up. She’s had this yellow color in ‘er room since she was a baby,” he let out a small sigh, as if he was reminiscing, “an’ she wants ‘er room repainted.”

You heard the conversation he had with Randy before, but you didn’t want to come off as a creep for eavesdropping. “Ah, ok! That’s nice of you, and seems easy enough! Do you know what color she wants?”

He let out another sigh. His eyes met yours. The man looked like a sad, lost puppy. “I know her favorite colors, pink and purple, but there’s just so many options,” he turned and gestured with a broad hand towards the rainbow wall of paint swatches. “An’ darlin’, I tried to do m’own research, watchin’ some Martha Stewart shows, but then Martha started talkin’ about warm colors and cool colors,” he let out a chuckle accompanied by a broad smile, raising his hands in front of his chest, “and then she lost me.”

Darlin’.

Other customers called you that condescendingly. When you didn’t know the difference between one screw and another. But the man’s endearing use of the word made your heart melt.

You smile back at him and lean forward on the counter. “Well, I think the first step is just the color. After that, we can worry about warm tones and cool tones,” you gave him a playful smirk.

He chuckled once more. “Sounds like a plan t’me,” he started walking towards the paint swatches. You snuck out from behind the counter and followed him to the pinks and purples.

“So I was thinkin’ of doin’ both pink and purple, but I dunno what looks good together.” The man started reaching for a card of pink. You took the moment to admire his forearms. Thin, dark hairs covered the surface of his tan skin. Muscles flexed on the front of his arm, displaying the years of manual labor the man has endured.

A pink swatch, Valentine, appeared in front of your face, accompanied by a lavender swatch, Kiss and Tell.

Valentine was bright, Barbie pink. Kiss and Tell was a light purple, the color the wax of a lavender candle would be. You admired his dedication to doing both of his daughter’s favorite colors, but the pair didn’t look too great together. The corner of your mouth perked up, displaying the thought you were putting into the pairing.

“No?” The man asked, a tinge of disappointment in his voice. His brows slanted downwards and his eyes resembled those of a lost puppy.

“Hmmm. Does she usually wear lighter colors,” you pointed towards the lavender swatch, “or brighter colors?” You gestured to the pink swatch.

He looked down at the swatches and his brow furrowed. The man was standing so close, you could smell cedar and musk from his cologne. His large biceps slightly brushed your upper arms as he turned to face you, “I reckon she likes the lighter colors.”

You took the lavender swatch, Kiss and Tell, from the man. Your fingers brushed against his thick, calloused ones as the card came into your possession. “Ok, so we’ll stick with the light purple! Let’s find a pink to match this one,” you smiled at him and he returned the expression.

Turning your body slightly towards the pinks, you started picking swatch after swatch off of the wall. Out of the corner of your eye you saw the man watching you in awe. Once several pink cards were in your hands, you went back to the paint desk.

You laid the cards out on a blank, white piece of paper. Five pink swatches were in a row on the paper with the lavender swatch below them. The man stood next to you and leaned over your shoulder to get a better look. A husky voice drawled in your ear, “So which one d’ya think, darlin’?”

You bit your lip at the warmth in his tone. A small shiver traveled up and down your spine, leaving a tingling in its wake. His tone was warm, and so was his upper arm. It grazed against your arm and left it warm and fuzzy. Brown eyes scanned over the options and then locked with yours. 

His gaze was incredibly soft. He looked desperate. The image of a lost puppy crossed your mind yet again. A small smile was spread on his face, roping you further into your tiny crush on the customer.

You give him a small smile, which his eyes crinkled further at, and you inform him, “Unfortunately, I can only give you my opinion. I can’t make the decision for you.” One of the man’s eyebrows raised and he gave you a slight frown. “Why’s that?” His voice lilted in question.

Giving him a slight shrug, you explain, “Well, I’ve made decisions for people before, and sometimes they come back and blame me for ‘ruining their walls’. I can tell you what I think looks good! Buuut I’m not going to decide for you,” you gave him a sweet smile.

Cedar and musk filled your nose again as he leaned closer. Your gaze dipped downard and followed one of his large hands. The calloused fingertips on his thick digits gripped the paper, and dragged in between the two of you. 

His opposite hand was set next to yours. A strong arm brushed against you. The hand holding onto the paper spanned across the page, “Well, tell me what’cha think, hon’?”

Hon’.

The feeling was quick, but intense. It washed over you like a soothing, warm bath. Ease seeped into your bones and then crept up into your cheeks. Your face felt hot at the term of endearment. Turning back towards the swatches, your lip found its way behind your front teeth once more.

You went through the details of each potential pairing. Telling him which ones you thought were too warm, too muted, or too cool. The best pairing was with a light, baby pink. The swatch read:

First Date

Reading the color name, of course Behr had a weird color name for a damn light pink, your face got even hotter. Your hands collected the other pinks and set the light pink and light purple next to each other.

The man picked the two cards and held them up to each other in front of his face. His gaze scanned the names of the two cards. “Kiss and Tell,” he softly muttered, his eyes gliding across the other name, “First Date,” he gave a slight smirk. It was as if he read your mind, he bit his lip, then released it. His tongue darted out to soothe the pinch on his bottom lip. 

“Ok darlin’,” he started, “how much paint do I need for a ten by ten room?”

“Well, a gallon covers three hundred to four hundred square feet,” you trailed off, “depending on how many coats you want to do, you’ll need one to two gallons.”

His mouth scrunched up to one side and he hummed, “How much is a gallon?”

Your mouth slanted in thought, “Well, it depends on what type of paint you’re looking to get.”

He smiled and tilted his head at your words, “Typa paint? Darlin’, I thought there was just paint,” he softly chuckled out, “an’ I usually make my brother do the paint shoppin’.” His confession brought a smile to your face. It wasn’t uncommon. Whenever people bought paint, they were slightly taken aback at how many questions you needed to ask them.

You started to walk to the left, towards a mat laid out on the paint desk counter. The brown mat displayed different qualities and brands of paint, which increased in price as you looked towards the right end of the lineup. You took a breath to start your usual line of questions, “Okay, so how many coats of paint are you looking to do? These paints,” you slid your finger to the more expensive end of the lineup, “have more primer in them, so they’re thicker. The thicker the paint, the fewer coats you have to do. Some paints have a one coat guarantee,” you finished and looked to his eyes to read his expression.

His mouth repeated its action from earlier, scrunching to the side, “Hmmm, I s’pose one coat would be less work…” He went silent for a moment as he thought. You could almost see him running the numbers in his head. “Alrigh’, I think I’ll go with two gallons of the one coat,” he finished by placing one of his hands down next to yours on the mat. The man’s eyes twinkled as he looked into yours and gave you a soft smile.

The smile he gave you was returned with your own, “Okay! So what sheen do you want the paint to be?” His smile shifted into confusion once more. Lines on his forehead deepened due to his perplexed look. “Sheen?” He asked.

You gave him a soft giggle. Reaching across him and towards a board of wooden paint swatches, you gave him a small, “‘Scuse me,” and his cologne filled your nose once more. Your shoulder brushed against his arm on your way back to your original positioning.

Facing the swatches towards him, you explained, “So sheens are how shiny the paint is once it dries. You can have no shine, which is a flat sheen, and you can go all the way up to very shiny, which is a high gloss. Usually bedrooms are eggshell or satin,” you pointed to the corresponding wood pieces. Tapping one of the shinier samples, you added, “And the shinier the finish, the more durable it is, and the easier it is to wipe, if you wanted to clean the wall.”

You leaned towards him, pointing at one specific wood sample block, “If your daughter likes to draw on the walls, I’d get satin, or even a semi-gloss.”

He huffed in amusement at your suggestion. “Guess I forgot kids draw on walls,” he chuckled, “Sarah’s ‘n angel, she prefers paper instead of drywall.” His wholesome anecdote made you giggle and look into his eyes.

The man gave you a small wink in response to your laughter. Taking a breath in, he pointed to a wooden sample a few spaces above the one you pointed at, “Lets go w’ eggshell.” His finger dwarfed the block of wood as he gave the material two light taps with his fingertip. Gazing at his hands, they were calloused, but also well kept. Fingernails at the ends of his thick digits were trimmed short, utilitarian.

You smiled at his decision, “Okay! Well, I’m going to go make labels for these two gallons and then I’ll mix ‘em up for you!” He beamed at your words and leaned against the counter, “Sounds good t’me, sweetheart.”

Your face flushed with heat at his response, and you hurriedly went to the other side of the counter to enter the two gallons into the computer. A white screen filled your vision as you tapped the different buttons to narrow down which type of paint the computer needed to calculate formulas for. 

As you tapped one button, the computer froze for a couple seconds. You frowned, “It always does this,” you thought. Not having to focus on the options on the screen, your vision instead focused on the reflection displaying what was behind you. Your eyes landed on the Texan man.

And his eyes were on you.

You watched as he bit the inside of his cheek, his mind lost in his thoughts. His gaze remained on you until he nodded to himself and looked down. Though he wasn’t observing the different paints on the mat, he was reaching into his pocket.

One of his hands sprawled out on the counter as he held down one of the paint samples and began to write on the paper in black sharpie, the item he retrieved from his jeans. The computer wasn’t too far from the counter, and you were semi-able to see what he was writing.

It was a phone number.

Your eyes widened and you returned your focus to the computer's screen. It definitely loaded a while ago and you hadn’t noticed. You pressed the, “PRINT LABELS” button and tore the stickers from the printer. Not making eye contact with him—still panicking over what you witnessed—you made your way down the center aisle and found the cans needed for the paint colors.

But your lazy coworkers haven’t been downstocking the cans, so they were just out of reach when you were on your tip-toes. You sprawled your fingers up towards the top of the can, hoping to find the handle with your finger tips.

Then heavy steps made their way over to you. The Texan’s signature cologne wafted towards you, “Lemme help ya’ with that, darlin’.” Before you could answer him, he reached and grabbed two gallons down from the just-out-of-reach shelf. He lifted them up so you could see the faces of the can, his face framed by two paint cans, “Are these the right ones?” You nodded, and he made his way back to the paint counter with them. Internally swooning at his help, you followed behind him, but returned to the opposite side of the counter as him.

He set the cans down with a, thunk, thunk, and smiled at you. You gave him a smile as you took the cans, “Thank you,” you said to him. His smile broadened, “‘Course.”

You brought the open gallons underneath the tint dispensers, each gallon getting a small amount of tint. Hammering echoed throughout the store as you closed each gallon, then put them in the paint shakers to mix.

Looking up from the floor, where the paint shakers were, back to the counter, you saw the man’s thick fingers tapping on the surface of it. Your eyes traveled from his fingers to his face. His gaze met yours and his lips parted, “What’cha got goin’ on for the rest of the night?”

You had to force your mouth to not smile too wide as you answered him with a sigh, “Just finishing up my shift, then going home,” you paused to think about what else to say, “I’m just glad I don’t have to work for the next two days,” you chuckled out.

His face and shoulders fell playfully, “Oh, I’m jealous,” he shook his head, “I’ve gotta work the next four days, n’ then I’m off for two.” He shook his head even more. Your lips slanted in sympathy and you were about to offer it, but the man continued, “Never become a contractor hon’,” he let out a breath, “I’s shitty hours ‘n shitty clients.” 

Brown eyes widened and then looked at you, he placed a wide palm over his chest, “Sorry sweetheart,” he chuckled, “Jus’ had a long day.”

You laughed at his apologetic behavior, it was endearing, “You don’t have to be sorry!” You continued to laugh, but then lowered your voice. Leaning towards him, you murmured, “Home Depot has shitty hours and shitty clients too,” you winked at him.

His teeth shined in the broad smile he displayed for you. A series of laughs left his chest. Two large hands both rested on the surface of the counter as he looked down and, more quietly, continued his chuckling. After a couple seconds, brown eyes peered back up into yours. The twinkles in his irises matched his smile.

“Hope I’m not a shitty client,” he joked, but his eyebrows faltered in sincerity. 

Your head tilted at him with soft eyes. Scrunching your lips to one side, you decided to be somewhat bold, “I think you’re one of the best I’ve had in a while.”

His face relaxed and his soft smile returned. The lines between his eyebrows became more prominent as he gave you those brown, puppy-dog eyes. “Well thank ya’, darlin’,” he drawled. You held his eye contact until you caught movement in your peripheral—his thumb brushed against the light pink paint sample. The dark mustache above his lip twitched as he bit the inside of his cheek again.

Click. Click.

The sounds indicated the timers on the paint shakers were up. And the gallons were done mixing. Breaking eye contact, you bent down to retrieve the gallons from the machines. Opening them up, you put your finger into each can and dotted the color on the top of the can. They were closed once more and you slid them over to the man across the counter.

He looked down at them, and then his face lit up. “Oh! D’ya mind puttin’ these colors on my account?” You were equally lit up at his request, as customers usually didn’t care about the paint accounts they could make to save their paint colors.

Using the computer closest to him, you tapped a few buttons and a series of fields popped up. You pressed on the field for a phone number, “What’s your phone number?” You asked him. Your face heated up at the meaning of the words in a different context. 

He told you and you typed them in, pressing enter on your keyboard. One account popped up: JOEL MILLER. “He definitely looked like a Joel,” you thought to yourself. “Joel?” You asked out loud to confirm it was his account. His name tumbling from your lips made his face light up. A charming smile was framed by a dark beard and ‘stache. “That’s me,” he replied.

You clicked on the account and entered the colors under, “Sarah’s Room,” Joel told you. The information was saved after a press of the “SAVE” button. His hands came up to grip the thin, metal handles of the paint gallons. Sliding them off the counter, his mouth opened and then closed again. He bit his lip, then looked at you, “Thank you darlin’, have a good night.” 

Your brow dropped a bit, expecting for him to give you his number—for different reasons this time. Before he got too far, you replied, “Of course! Have a good night, Joel!” He threw you a wide, toothed smile over his shoulder. Joel’s smile was wide, but his eyes lacked the same enthusiasm.

—

No one else approached the counter after a couple minutes, so you retreated to the computer to “do your training”. You sat on your phone, letting the training video play in the background—this video was literally anti-union propaganda. Mindlessly scrolling on social media, your thoughts wandered. 

You felt dumb for expecting him to give you his number. He could’ve just written something else down on the card. Sighing, you turned and meandered the paint aisles to keep yourself busy. With slow steps you wandered past can after can. You made it to the third aisle, and a man stood at the end of it. 

He had dark brown hair, wore a navy t shirt, and was built like Joel. Your footsteps became faster to greet him, but then the man turned and looked at you—it was not Joel.

The man sighed and rolled his eyes, “Finally, I’ve been waiting here for five minutes looking for one of you.”

Your eyes widened, the tone of this customer sharply contrasted the one of your last. Joel’s kind eyes and comforting drawl made this man’s voice compare to nails on a chalkboard. Staring at him, you realized he didn’t look like Joel at all. The rude man’s facial hair was unkempt and scraggly. His teeth must have had the same maintenance as this beard, as they were begging for a trip to the dentist. His hair had no style, not even a brushing of it in a general direction.

The awful whiny, rasp of his voice only heightened your disgust, “I’ve been looking for this thing,” he held his phone out and pointed at his screen, “it says you have it in stock in this aisle but I can’t find it.”

You hummed in response. After asking him to scroll down to view the products information, you typed the SKU for the item into your phone. The Home Depot app on your phone was the only way you could help people, otherwise you'd be lost. You typed the SKU into the app and made sure the app filtered for items in your store, not just the available items online.

OUT OF STOCK displayed under a picture of the item, next to your store name. You sighed, “I’m sorry sir, but it looks like we did have this item, but it's out of stock right now.”

The man’s eyebrows knitted together and he looked at you in shock, “What?” The word shot into your chest. Shit. You thought back to what you said to Joel earlier, “Home Depot has shitty hours and shitty clients too.”

You sighed, “Do you have the right store listed on your phone?” The man snapped his eyes to his screen confusedly. After a moment he held it back out for you to see, “I don’t know, you tell me,” he sneered.

Reading the “130 IN STOCK” on his screen, your vision trailed to the store next to it. That store was in a completely different area. Clearing your throat, you informed him, “Sir, that’s a store one hundred miles from here.” You braced for his reaction.

His screen faced him and he grumbled. “Well why doesn’t your damn app update the location when I search?” He rudely asked. Your breath caught in your throat at his harshness. “Can’t you look in the back if you have it?” He stated, like he worked here.

Another deep breath, “We don’t have a back sir, we do overhead stocking,” you looked up, “and I don’t see the item you’re looking for up there,” you swallowed. Heat flushed into your face in anxiety at the customer’s attitude. 

“Fuckin’ useless,” the man spat under his breath at his phone, peering up at you. “Can’t even find a damn item,” he trailed off. Your throat clenched at his words. A shaky breath left your nose. 

Heavy footsteps came from behind you and a wave of distaste washed through your bones. You swore if it was another entitled customer, you were going to go insane. Probably cry. Maybe scream. Definitely asking to go home early.

Someone cleared their throat behind you, “You’re bein’ quite harsh to ‘er for somethin’ that ain’t ‘er fault,” a Texan drawl announced. Recognizing the voice, you turned to see Joel’s built figure make its way over to you and the shitty client. A huff from the rude, scraggly man came from your left, “This ain’t any of your business, buddy.”

Your head snapped towards Joel to see his response, “The hell it ain’t,” his voice got slightly louder, “You’re the dumbass that can’t jus’ say you were lookin’ at the wrong goddamn store.” Eyes wide, your gaze shifted from one man to the other. Joel stood tall, brows furrowed, and muscles bulging in the sleeves of his t-shirt. 

Scraggly man must have decided the argument wasn’t worth it, as he just grumbled and took his cart down the aisle and away from both of you. Joel sighed beside you, “‘M sorry ‘bout that, sweetheart. I knew ya coulda handled that, but he shouldn’t have been so rude to ya. Especially over his own damn mistake.” 

Relief flooded your body in the absence of the shitty client. Warmth from Joel’s presence began to fill the rest of the space that the relief couldn’t. Then you started thinking, “How’d you know he put the wrong store in the app?” You asked Joel.

The contractor froze. Eyes wide. Brows towards the ceiling. Lips pinched together. He looked down at the cement floor and then back up to you, “I may have been eavesdropping from the aisle over.” He cocked his head towards the aisle he came from.

Joel took a deep breath and then cleared his throat. The same brown, puppy-dog eyes from earlier met your irises. He dug his hand into his front jeans pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. Unfolding it, a light pink—First Date—sample card had a number in black sharpie scrawled across the color. “I came back to give ya this,” he held the paper out for you to take, and you took it from his large digits.

You stared at the card in shock. Okay. So he did plan on giving it to you.

He sighed and rubbed a broad palm over the back of his neck, “I was gonna give it to ya’ earlier but I got nervous,” he chuckled, “I, uh, I jus’ thought, uh, I think, that you’re very pretty, and funny.” He cleared his throat once more and continued, and you tore your gaze away from the paper to meet his eyes, “An’ I’d like to take ya’ out on a date sometime.” A heavy breath left his lungs.

A moment passed before you grinned at him and gave him a little chuckle, “I’d go on a date with you, Joel.” Broad shoulders covered in navy fabric slumped in relief. He grinned at you and his face flushed—he was blushing.

He checked his watch and muttered, “Shit.” Looking at you, his brows furrowed, “Sorry, darlin’, I’ve gotta run. Havin’ family dinner tonight.” Your heart throbbed at the care he had towards his family. 

You waved a hand at him, heat rising towards your face at the loose plans you two had, “Well, don’t let me make you late!” He nodded at you, “Have a good night, sweetheart,” he said before slowly walking backwards down the aisle and away from you. “You too, Joel!” You replied before he turned the corner.

About to turn the corner, he shot you a grin with a wink.

Okay. Maybe working at Home Depot did have its perks.

[unreleasedwrites]

hello my beloved writer <3 can I ask for a Gun oneshot in which we wear his perfume but he owns so many bottles that he don't actually remember that's his so he thinks that the scent belongs to someone else lol. the story goes after will be decided by you hehe <3 thank you <3

A Certain Scent

“just whose perfume am I smelling?”

summary: You had just finished getting ready for your date with your boyfriend, when he suddenly questions the perfume you had on you. He thinks it’s some other guy’s until you clear it up and you two go on your date, with him still thinking that you’re upset with him for suspecting you of cheating. But you really aren’t and you two eventually cuddle together in bed to end the day.

character(s) included: Park Jonggun x fem!reader

cw: established relationship, teasing, hints of jealous gun, kissing, soft, fluff, petnames / couple names (idk what they’re even called), cuddling, like all of my works— not proofread

unwrapped on: Sunday Midnight, June 9 2024

wrapped up on: Saturday Night, June 15 2024

published on: Saturday Night, June 15 2024 (at around 10 pm)

“Alright, I’ve finished getting ready! How do I look?” You announced as you walked into the living of room of your shared apartment.

Your boyfriend, Gun, was stood at the wall leading to the doorway, dressed in semi formal attire for your guys’ date that evening.

“I’ve told you before that no words can describe you, didn’t I?” He replied, tilting his head to the side while his eyes were wandering across your body.

“That’s corny but then again, I asked.” You scoffed at him while walking closer and closer to where he was stood at.

He only laughed at your response and pulled you in closer for a kiss. The kiss went on for a few good seconds until you broke it since you noticed that Gun didn’t seem intent on stopping there.

“Save that for later, we haven’t even left the building yet,” you scoffed at him yet again, earning another laugh from him.

He held your hand and just as you two were about to exit the room, he froze. His grasp on your hand became tighter.

He looked over to you, “baby?” to which you replied with a hum and he added, “just whose perfume am I smelling?”

You rose an eyebrow at the sudden interrogation, “huh—? What do you mean?” You said as you tilted your head to the side, visibly confused.

“What do I mean?” He scoffed, “that perfume you’ve got on is obviously a man’s. Who were you with before I arrived?” He said, with a more demanding tone.

“Gun..” You said, “are you serious or..?” You were skeptical with his sudden change in demeanor and tone, did he seriously not realize that the perfume you’ve got on was his own?

Gun obviously heard you but didn’t respond, he only looked at you and he hasn’t looked away since.

“It’s yours, you idiot.” You audibly sighed at him.

“Wha-? No it’s not,” he replied, seemingly growing confused as well.

“Yeah, it is! Let go of my hand and I’ll prove it to you.”

“Fine,” he finally let go of your hand and you walked back to your guys’ shared bedroom, where all of your stuff including makeup, perfumes, and accessories were at.

You opened one of the drawers to your vanity, revealing an extensive collection of luxury perfumes, many of which were your boyfriend’s. You took out the one you had just used and walked back to where Gun was stood at, only for him to look even more confused.

“Does this seem familiar to you?” You opened it up and sprayed it in his face from a safe distance where he can still smell the scent.

He took a few seconds to analyze what you just sprayed, only to realize that the scent was in fact from his perfume.

—…

“Well— Is that really mine though? I have so many bottles that I don’t know whether or not I own that. And plus.. What if some guy just left that here?”

“Gun. You bought this when we were on vacation in Japan, you even specifically told me that you like smelling your scent on me so you sprayed on me as well.”

Gun paused. He started thinking about that vacation you guys had and suddenly, that exact moment that you were telling him about started flashing in his mind. You could see his eyebrows rise slightly, signifying that he’s finally come to realize what you’re talking about.

“Fine fine. I’m sorry that I thought you were wearing some other guy’s perfume..”

You only pouted at him so he gave you a kiss on the forehead.

“If you forgive me now, I’ll kiss you on the lips instead.” He offered.

“Deal! I forgive you for basically accusing me of cheating!” You said, adding sarcasm towards the end.

He scoffed at your quick change in mood and gave you another kiss on the lips.

You returned the perfume from where you first got it and once you got back to Gun, he held your hand again but in a more gentle way. Then you two finally went on your awaited date.

“Don’t tell me…” Gun said after he took a sip of the drink he ordered at the restaurant you two were at. “You’re still upset at me?” He added.

“Hmph.” You only mumbled as you were chewing on the food that came from Gun, right after he spoon fed you the last of his food as you had just finished up with your plate.

Gun sighed, somehow seemingly amused too. He then spotted a waiter and asked for the bill, turning to you while the waiter left to fetch the bill.

“How can I make it up to you?” He asked with a smirk on his face, confident in his abilities to be fully forgiven.

“You wanna go shopping before we head back? Name any shopping mall you’d like to go and I’ll get you whatever you want there. How’s that sound, you little baby?” He added as he slipped in some teasing at the end.

“No, Gun.. You can’t just buy your way into forgiveness y’know,” you scoffed at him and you finished up what was left of your drink. He subtly pouted, his smirk faded as his confidence in getting you to forgive him went down.

The waiter arrived with the bill and without even taking the time to read through the receipt, Gun put his card in and the waiter took it away.

The waiter eventually came back with his card and you two stood up to leave, making your way back to the car.

“You sure you don’t wanna go shopping?” Gun asked as he opened the car door for you and you settled into the passenger seat.

You nodded in response and Gun shut your door, making his way to the other side and settling into the drivers seat.

You put the topic aside and chatted with him all throughout the way back to your guys’ shared apartment. And you two finally arrived back at the doorstep with Gun seemingly distracted.

“What’s on your mind, honey?” You asked Gun while he was removing his shoes and setting his coat aside.

“You, just as always.” He teased.

“Corny as hell, again, but then againnnn, I asked…” You replied and added, “no but what is it really?”

You were looking at Gun, whose coat was now removed and all of the buttons of his top were now undone— revealing his body.

But you weren’t looking at any of that , you were just maintaining eye contact and looking at him oh, so sweetly. He smiled at you genuinely, a sight that not many see right in front of them.

“M’pretty sure you’re still upset with me, and I don’t know how to fix it.” He blurted out as he successfully finished removing his top.

“You’re such a baby, I was barely upset to begin with.” You reassured him with a kiss on the cheek and left to take a shower so you could get into bed.

After your shower, you walked into your guys’ shared bedroom, only to see Gun on the bed. He’s already taken a shower as well and as per usual, he’s shirtless with some pajamas you bought him. You giggled, thinking how he’s actually wearing them and made your way onto the bed.

He put aside whatever he was just doing to cuddle you, completely sinking into you with all his weight. Which is why you had to shoo him off you to get some air. He pouted at the sudden kick out but was all happy again when you got on top of him to cuddle. You already were so exhausted, so in no time you felt like you were drifting away as your head laid in the crook of his neck.

Gun whispered, “I love you so much,” and he badly hopes that you heard him despite being seemingly asleep. Which you did, but instead of saying it back, you lifted your head and kissed him.

Then you sunk your head back into the crook of his neck, while he stroked your hair gently until you fell asleep.

notes: ik none of my works are proofread but this one really isnt as i worked on it during unholy hours and i might’ve been half asleep while writing some parts.. 🫠

so im very sorry for any grammatical and spelling errors but I hope that it’s still understandable 😭

I swear this would’ve been done much sooner but I really wasn’t sure what to do after the like main request about the perfume 😭

Anyways, tysm to the anon who requested this!! 💗💗 I hope it’s not too bad

- With or without proper credits, please don't try to steal or claim any of my works as vour own

I genuinely appreciate opinions, feedback, likes, and reblogs

Once again, I hope this isn't too bad for a request, and l'II be doing more characters in lookism so feel free to request but please read my pinned post !!

[l0enelies-t]

sᴜɴᴅᴀʏ ɴsꜰᴡ ᴀʟᴘʜᴀʙᴇᴛ.

ミ★ 𝐻𝑆𝑅 𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠: 𝑆𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑂𝑎𝑘．

ミ★ 𝗖𝗪: Reader is a female ~ 𝗡𝗦𝗙𝗪 activities, words, etc. SPOILERS if you aren’t up to date with the game.

Aᴜᴛʜᴏʀ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: Hɪ!! Tʜɪs ɪs ᴍʏ ꜰɪʀsᴛ ᴘᴏsᴛ ⵊ’ᴍ ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ, ᴀɴᴅ sɪɴᴄᴇ ⵊ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ sᴇᴇɴ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪs, ⵊ’ʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴅᴏɪɴɢ ɪᴛ ᴍʏsᴇʟꜰ. ᴍʏ ᴇɴɢʟɪsʜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ɪs ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴛʀᴀsʜ, sᴏ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴍɪɢʜᴛ ʙᴇ ɢʀᴀᴍᴍᴀʀ ᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇs, ɪᴍ sᴏʀʀʏ ɪꜰ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢs ᴅᴏɴᴛ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ sᴇɴsᴇ!

Fᴇᴇʟ ꜰʀᴇᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴀsᴋ ꜰᴏʀ HCs ᴏꜰ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀs ᴏʀ sᴜɴᴅᴀʏ!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Sunday can be very considerate and caring to close family and friends in general, and his sister, Robin is a very good example of this. But with you, he takes just as much caution as he does with Robin. This especially shows after having a heated and steamy moment with him in bed. Depending on his mood he can go rough or slow (See Pace for more explanation), and the outcome of his aftercare isn’t any different on both sides.

Sunday caresses your body gently feeling your curves and insecurities, showering kisses all over your face. He always apologizes if he was too rough, even if he wasn’t. Because of this, he asks you if you need anything and he’ll do whatever you want with a soft smile on his face. You need something to snack on? Sunday is already getting some food for you two. Want to take a bath to wash off any messiness on you? He’s already on it before you even had the thought. Want to cuddle and just chat about this and that? Arms are wide open under the blanket, welcoming you to come into his warmth. Safe to say, you’re in good hands after Sunday pounds into your core.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Sunday’s favorite body part is something he’s really going to think through if you were to ask him. He wouldn’t know what to say but if it were up to him (and after long thought process on what he likes about himself), he would say his halovian features. After all, it shows his unique heritage of his deceased family and his sister Robin has them as well. A close favorite is his brain, it fascinates him on the fact that he knows a lot and how ENA The Order blesses him with knowledge. He “can’t help but be a Know-It-All” anyways.

A body part he likes most on you might be your eyes or hands. He can’t help but look into your pretty eyes everytime you two meet. Additionally, he loves looking into them as he goes in and out of you. As for your hands, Sunday loves the feeling they have. He likes comparing your hand size to his, and not to mention his hands are VERY soft since he wears gloves all day and washes them thoroughly often.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Sunday isnt too fond of messiness. His OCD triggers go through the roof when he sees a mess he doesn’t like, but messes will almost always happen when having sex. That being said, he usually cums inside of you and let it seep out afterwards, he does it claim you as his, and plus it’s a huge ego boost for him. If you don’t want him to do that then he’s fine with finishing on your stomach, back, or thigh. Sunday always gets flustered when you swallow it, his eyes glancing away when your eyes meet as you swallow his seed.

Sunday finishes out with a big load, and it’s a little bit runny and sticky. It’s a Creme color and pretty sweet yet bitter (due to his sweet tooth and love for strawberries) but it’s enough to make you want to suck him dry.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

This isn’t exactly a dirty secret, but while you and Robin were out shopping, you two went to a more erotic store which sold lingerie. You were confused onto why Robin said you two should go here but figured it may be her just browsing for random things you she or you won’t get. But when she started putting actual things into a basket, thats when it started to get concerning. “It’s for you actually, here come on! Let’s go try these on.” Robin says as at least 5 sets of lingerie were inside of that basket, swinging back and forth as she walked.

Turns out, she wanted to get them for you to show to Sunday, her brother. Robin knew his choice of color, how he likes outfits to be, design choices etc, since they known each other since birth (twin siblings, duh). Sunday had been overworking himself and she wanted to give a stress reliever by doing this for him, so what better way was there than to use you as a good stress reliever. It was honestly kind of her to do so but executing it in this way was so odd.

Safe to say, you two were definitely busy the night he came back from his office. To say the least, he was really satisfied afterwards (you fed him strawberries just fyi). You can thank Robin for that.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Sunday is a little experienced regarding knowledge. He didn’t have a relationship before you but he knows how things work in sex, such as what words to say, making out, foreplay, and then getting to the actual activity. Sometimes though, you’ll need to assist or teach him a few things/terms since once again, he only knows a quarter of how sex works.

Does he know what he’s doing? Pretty much. The more you two get down at it, the more experienced he gets. One thing he does is pay attention to what makes you squirm in his arms, and moan his name. He’s a very quick learner though, trust me.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Sunday loves positions where he can have control but kiss you at any time, look into your eyes, caress your curves or have skin on skin contact, and the position that fits is missionary. He loves to have your legs wrapped around his waist, it only makes him want to go deeper and deeper into your core, and sometimes if he’s feeling frisky, your legs will go on his shoulders. (though this is rare for him to do since sometimes his halo shards can cut your ankle or legs.)

He’s also fine with you taking the reins and cowgirling him, sometimes thrusting up inside of you for deeper penetration. His hands are on your waist during this, guiding you movements. And as the control freak he is, you betcha’ that he’s going to control the speed and deepness.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Sunday is a mix between funny and serious during sex. He is serious to getting you both off satisfyingly, but acts a little funny when trying to make you laugh to not make the moment too serious.

Sometimes tickling your skin with his hands or using his wings to tickle your face, kissing your nose, etc, just to spark a smile or giggle from you since he loves hearing your sweet voice. As for seriousness, Sunday loves to praise you and even dirty talk sometimes.

“You’re being such a good girl for me, taking me like this.” Or “You look so pretty like this.”

For him, sex is to release stress, but mostly to show how much he loves you and he executes this idea very well.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Sunday’s OCD shows very well how clean he is. I mean look at his entire outfit and the way he acts, you can’t tell me that he isn’t nicely groomed down there.

He is very nice down there though, and it’s shaven good. Sometimes he can forget or not care enough to shave all of it off, leaving small bits of hair around his base. It’s grayish-blue like his hair, and has a ombré of a lighter blue around the tips of the hairs. Though if his partner were to have hair, he wouldn’t care just as long as they’re clean there.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

You never expect Sunday of all people to be so hot when hes making love to you. His eyes during it show how much he adores you, his voice seeps with lust as he thrusts into you slowly. Sunday’s focus is all directed you, your comfort, getting you off and he does it in a way where it benefits him too. He may not be the type of man to have rose petals lead you to the bed, or declare his love in every single thrust he does but he shows it in a way that’s his own style and personal way.

Little add-on, since Sunday reads a lot, he read a book about how chocolate can release a chemical that makes you feel a type of way. And knowing the fact that he loves strawberries (and has a sweet tooth), chocolate dipped strawberries are his go to if he ever wants to make things romantic for the occasion, oh and of course he has a little bit of champagne on the side. He wants to make it enjoyable for you both, and when you praise him for his hard work it makes him more happy than anything else at that moment.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

As Head of The Family, it’s no doubt that Sunday will get stressed from doing work and like any healthy man, he yanks the crank every good once in a while. He has good self control and when the urge hits him he waits until he’s alone and in a secluded place (always his bedroom with the door locked) to sit on the bed and unzip his pants.

When he go into a relationship with you, he started masturbating a little more often. You can tell when he’s hard by looking at how he shifts in his seat uncomfortably and the blush that appears on his face. If this happens to be at an event you and him attend, he waits until you two get into his home and verbally tells you how he felt that moment so you can give him a handjob. That way he can softly moan in your ear and thank you for doing this for him, all while burying his face in the crook of your neck. (Also a little more info of this in M - Motivation.)

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Sunday is pretty vanilla, but if you have a kink you want to try out then hes willing to oblige.

He has a voice kink. Hearing you moan and whimpering his name makes him want to thrust harder and faster. It sends blood rushing to his dick whenever you praise him for doing something you like.

Speaking of, He definitely has a praise kink, giving and receiving. His praises are angelic and absolutely make you feel so loved (that’s what he wants anyways).

Sunday loves edging you (he let his control-freak side take over) and hearing you beg makes him finish immediately. His fingers pushing in and out, then stopping once you’re on the brink, it’s so satisfying for him.

When he’s busy with paper work at his desk and you are just so needy for him, cockwarming is his favorite. Just seeing you squirm and whimper in irritation due to him not moving his hips is amusing to him.

Since he wants you to feel loved, most times body worship is a good one. Where he praises your insecurities saying that they are beautiful to him.

“Hey please, don’t avert your eyes from me now.”

“You’re doing so good, I’m so proud of you.”

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Typically Sunday wants to keep his personal life and work life separated and all while trying to make you comfortable. Any place in his bedroom is good. He personally prefers the bed because it’s soft, and the feeling of a blanket on you both as you two make love, is something so romantic in his eyes. If you two happen to be in a bath tub then that’s a close favorite, though the water can get all over the place and it can bother him due to the mess even if he has no problem cleaning up.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

A lot of things can get Sunday turned on but it’s limited due to a bit of shyness coming from his intimate side.

He loves it when you wear lingerie for him because your doing this all for his pleasure. It makes him want to reward you the best he can.

One other thing is teasing him in private, such as sitting on his lap. He’s going to notice your small dry humps to his groin, as well as your hands rubbing his inner thigh and massaging his clothed dick, causing him to let out soft moans and get embarrassed for doing so.

Wingplay is a good one too. Sunday’s wings are extremely sensitive and even more sensitive due to his piercings. Rubbing and massaging them (especially behind the wings) can get him going real good, causing him put his hands all over your body, and his evident erection pressing REALLY tight against his dress pants.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

For the love of The Order do not try to tease Sunday in public unless you want to die. His public image is very important to him and The Family and he will be very crossed with you if you try to this. He doesn’t want all of Penacony to know that he’s willing to get down and dirty in public, and plus paparazzi follow him and his sister everywhere. Attempt this act and you’ll be met with a stern whisper to your ear and a sharp glare. Once you both get home, Sunday will have a serious talk with you.

“If you can’t control yourself then I suggest you stay home or with Robin at all times. I will not tolerate such behavior.” Sunday sneers as he crosses his arms. Once you understand and vow to never do it again, he’ll soften up and apologize for being too mean.

He absolutely wont share you with anyone either, he wants to have you to himself and only himself. (Control-freak core)

As for kinks, he doesn’t like anything that relates to pain. He hates inflicting pain on someone so precious to him so BDSM is absolutely out of the question. As well as degrading, it feels wrong for him to insult you. Maybe if you beg enough and he’s in a stressed mood, he might say something small.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Sunday doesn’t have a preference regarding sexual oral activities but he does slightly prefer giving. He is VERY good at it though to the point where your convinced he had a partner in the past before. Sunday loves hearing you moan his name out and watching you arch your back to him as his tongue slides in and out of your folds. How you roll your hips closer to his mouth, grabbing his hair softly.

As for receiving, my gosh is he ethereal as you go down on him. His angelic moans and heavy breathing echo in your ears as his hands softly stroke and grip your hair, guiding your head to the speed and deepness he wants. Half-lided golden eyes watching you as you take his size into your mouth, His soft voice praises you for taking him so well.

“Just like that, keep going, you’re doing so well my love.”

It’s honestly intoxicating to hear.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

As said before, Sunday’s pace is all depended on his mood.

Sometimes he’s stressed out wanting to go rough, just thrusting into you hard yet slowly (going faster when you asks him to) and leaving hickeys all over your body. Sometimes he’s as gentle as a feather wanting to have some passionate sex by going slow and deep, grinding and rolling his hips into your sex.

Sunday can get carried away by being rough, sometimes going too hard and being a little bit more mean, mostly focusing on his tension residing within him (This can lead to very soft and gentle degrading). He always apologizes everytime this happens, and makes up for it by making it up to you some way or another, as well as being more caring during aftercare.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Sunday has a VERY busy schedule, which is a reason why he prefers late night or morning sex. But of course, there are times where those times just won’t do. When you explained what a quickie was to him one day, he thought of about it and tried it once with you. As a result, he didn’t like it. Sunday believes sex is something that should be savored and be done to show deep genuine love for one another (which explains why he doesn’t like to just fuck). And quickies don’t fit that requirement. He knew they were useful but still didn’t like the idea of a slip-and-dip, it just didn’t feel right.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s willing to explore any of your personal kinks, and if he likes it then he will go on with it in future interactions. But for risks, he’s not going to do it. Sunday is Head of The Family and takes care of Penacony, the hotel, and the Dreamscape. So any risqué thing that he deems inappropriate, he will strictly prohibit from acting upon, which includes semi-public sexual interactions.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

If you know Sunday, you know that he’s busy with work for and from The Family, orders from the dreammaster (his father/gopherwood) and Penaconian shenanigans. And he needs a lot of stamina to accomplish all of his duties and responsibilities in one day or the maximum of 2 week. This, on the other hand, is useful when you’re having sex with him. He can go for a long time, usually getting tired after round 2 or 3. Just looking at you and your body makes him finish earlier but he always pushes through to go longer, wanting to finish with you at the same time.

Both his stamina and how long he lasts are very impressive honestly.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Sunday had no idea what toys are used for until you told him and explained in great detailed what it was, and how it was used. He was a little interested and even did some research by reading books about them. Definitely doesn’t own any because why would he need one when he has you. If his partner were to have toys, he would use them if they wanted him to, sometimes not wanting to use them on you because he wants to get you off himself.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh boy, that little smug look he usually shows on his face is the exact same look he makes when he teases you. Sunday does a surprisingly great job at teasing. He knows the basics, such as playing with your folds, grabbing your breast and playing with the nub, and rubbing his tip against you before entering. It’s honestly irritating to see how smirky he can get.

Unfortunately this is only occasionally, and you’ll see this side of him once in a while.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Sunday’s noises are absolutely beautiful. Although he’s not very loud, his heavy breathing and whimpering in your ears are enough to make you drop to your knees. His moans are angelic, every thrust they get more intimate and softer. Lets out a satisfied sign when you do something he likes. Gets quieter and pants faster when he’s close to finish, whispering with a soft moan when he finally does. He’s more louder when you’re topping but still at a level where only you can hear.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Sunday had always had the thought of starting a family with someone one day. He wanted to ever since he was a kid but always pushed it away because he feels that he isn’t fit to be a father due to how he was treated by the Dreammaster and fears that he will be just like Gopherwood (Dreammaster), manipulative. If you were to ask him if you two could make love one night, just to try and have a child he will ask to think about it. After a while Sunday will say he’s not ready even when he thinks he is. Sunday wants to learn how to love, little by little and when he’s ready he will ask you one night. As long as you’re patient with him, it’ll go smoothly.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Sundays at a good 5.4 when not erect, but when he is it’s a 6.1. It’s veiny and curves a little, with the tip being a soft rosy pink.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Over the years, Sunday was taught by his adoptive father to suppress urges and feelings for they are irrelevant and useless. Once he got into a relationship with you, he started to gain back feelings that were almost gone (such as sexual tension). His libido is a bit below average and if you want to do it with him at any time (when he isnt busy) then he’s okay with fulfilling your urges. He can go a long time without doing it as long as you two show physical affection towards one another (hugs, kisses, cuddles, taking baths together, hand on your thigh as you two talk or read, affirmations, etc.)

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Sunday doesn’t like to sleep until he knows you’re taken care of and comfortable. If he doesn’t get too exhausted after doing the do, he will go finish some left over paperwork. If that’s already been done then he reads or munch on strawberries as a late night snack while he holds you in his arms. Once you’re asleep, he goes to sleep after a few little routines (saying goodnight to Robin, and turning off the lights).

If you wanted to cuddle then hes all in for it, big spoon or little spoon, it doesn’t matter to him. He whispers a few praises and just caresses you just to show his love.

“Sleep now, dreambird. Until tomorrow my love.” Sunday whispers as he kisses your forehead.

©2024 l0eneliest do not repost, copy, translate, or modify.

[imtryingbuck]

Possible Happy Ending

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader, past Steve x fem!Reader

Summary: It’s been three years since Reader left Steve, after bumping into someone she might have the chance of a happy ending.

Word count: 1,156

Warnings: swearing, self-doubting. I’m pretty sure that’s it.

Masterlist

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

Three years have been and gone since you finally decided to leave Steve it hasn’t gotten any easier but you’re doing okay. Your mum rang you a few days after you left panicking saying Steve had showed up that you and your stuff had gone. A month after you left Steve and Sharon went public with their relationship, you were devastated so you went to the local shelter and got two kittens why? You’re not entirely sure but you love them both so much.

Four months after you left, you’re walking to the local cafe when suddenly you bump into someone straight away your spluttering apologies when your name is suddenly said. Bucky is standing in front of you with a big smile on his face asking where you have been; how you’ve been. You both head to the cafe to talk and it’s going amazingly well. He tells you he missed seeing you around and that Steve looked for you everywhere. You exchange numbers with him promising not to tell Steve, even though he’s with Sharon now you don’t want him showing up as you just simply can’t deal with that anymore.

In the following weeks and months after meeting Bucky again he becomes your best friend (your only friend too) he comes to the apartment every Friday and even sometimes stays until Sunday. He truly is the sweetest man ever, his favourite thing to do is wind the cats up and getting them hyper just before he leaves. It drives you crazy you complain with a smile on your face as you can’t even imagine to be mad at him not when he has that stupid beautiful smile on his face. 

Now you’re not exactly sure when it started but the feelings for Bucky were starting to get out of hand, you knew yourself it would be so wrong to say anything to him about how you had this butterfly tingling feeling in your stomach which has now turned into pterodactyls trying to break out of your stomach every time he looks at you. It’s wrong. He’s your ex-boyfriends best friend. Plus he’s James Buchanan Barnes he’s not going to like you the only reason why he’s here at your apartment every weekend ordering pizza or Chinese and talking to you about anything and everything for hours is because he feels sorry for you. Idiot.

A year after you left it went public that the it couple known as Steve and Sharon had broken up. From what Bucky told you Steve apparently walked into the apartment he shared with you and caught Sharon cheating with a guy Steve had been suspicious of. According to Buck Steve was crying out your name and begging up at the ceiling for you to come home.

A few days after that Steve was seen with a new woman on his arm. Your sister.

Your heart shattered, ringing your mum she told you that everyone thought it was okay for your sister to date you ex because he was your ex. You hung up and cried. The tears didn’t last long though as Bucky let himself into your apartment and found you in bed crying so he climbed into bed with you and cuddled you. You’re pretty sure you both ended up watching The Big Bang Theory but couldn’t remember as you were too busy watching Bucky laughing and stroking one of the cats.

Your sister and Steve didn’t last two months because every time they had sex it was your name finally spilling from his mouth.

It’s your birthday and the plan was to have a nice hot relaxing bath then order yourself a Chinese and curl up on the couch with the cats and watch your favourite show. Simple and plain. That was until your favourite person knocked on the door with a huge bouquet of your favourite flowers, Chinese food and a bag with ‘happy birthday’ written across it. He tells you that you shouldn’t be spending your birthday on your own, so you point to the cats and with that he lets out that sound that makes your heart flutter. Halfway through the fourth episode of the series he suggested, you notice him looking at you, so you pull a weird face which again makes him let out that sound. You mentally scold your idiotic heart to stop fluttering.

“Y/n I need to tell you something” he speaks so softly and instantly you can tell he’s nervous.

“What’s up Buck” trying to hard not to stumble over three simple words.

“I-um w-well I need y I-I need to tell you s-s-something” he’s struggling and that gets you scared.

“B-Bucky you can tell me anything you know this” God if you’re real please kill me. Now.

Taking a deep breath, he says “iminlovewithyou”

“What? Say that again Buck but slower” did I just hear correctly? No. He didn’t just say that you idiot. Wishful thinking though pal.

“I’m in love with you. I have been since you stitched up my arm even though I heal fast six years ago. W-when he told me you two was dating, I was crushed and I knew it was wrong your was my best friends girlfriend but I couldn’t help it. You’re an angel absolutely perfect. When you broke up with him I was more devastated than him because I knew I wouldn’t get to see you again but then we bumped into each other a-and them feelings was still ther - oh shit Y/N shit I didn’t mean to make you cry im sor-“ he didn’t get to finish that word because you kissed him. 

You kissed him.

Holy shit. 

What do you do?

Do you stop?

Do you continue?

Oh. 

He’s kissing you back.

Took you long enough Bucky, jeez.

After what felt like an eternity you both pulled apart breathless with huge dopey smiles on your faces. 

“Are you sure Bucky? Are you sure that this is how you really feel?” Shut up! Why are you asking?

“Baby I’m in love with you. My heart aches when I’m not with you. You’re the first thing on my mind when I wake up and the last thing when I close my eyes and even then, you just follow me into my dreams” There isn’t any hesitation or hint that this could all be a wind up.

“I’m in love with you too. I know it’s terrible since who your best friend is but I can’t hel-“ this time he cuts you off with his perfect plumb lips on yours. 

Bucky picks you up like you weigh nothing and carries you to bed. He kisses every stretch mark, scar, beauty mark on your entire body as he makes love to you, he tells you how much he loves you. Laying in his arms sweaty and breathless you can’t help it when a few rogue tears slip onto his chest.

Tags: @bruher @cjand10 @themotherof10 @spngingerbread21 @behindmygreyeyes @hnnhbananananana @reguluscrystals

~ banners credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~