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gloryofluv · 3 years

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Situations that end with MC Walking Away Brothers and Datables (-Luke)

This is supposed to be funny, humorous, fluffy, and teasing. Obviously, insinuations are there.

I didn't do Luke because you shouldn't walk away from children or dogs. Haha! No, really, I just didn't want to do one for him so apologies.

Lucifer-

MC walked into the library to see Lucifer. He hadn’t seen them as he turned over several books on random shelves. He also took books from one shelf and placed them on other shelves. MC watched for two minutes before clearing their throat.

“What are you doing?” MC asked.

Lucifer jumped and turned around with an eyebrow raised. “Nothing, and if I were you, I’d keep this to yourself.”

MC shakes their head and leaves. So Satan was right. Lucifer goes out of his way to fuck with him.

Mammon-

MC was walking by the bathroom and stopped at the door after hearing someone wailing.

Wait… that was Mammon singing that song they played for him. Treasure by Bruno Mars. How fucking cute! MC ducks closer to the door and smiles brightly. Damn, he was cute. Was he singing about them?

MC sneakily opens the door to see Mammon in the bathtub. He was holding up Goldie and singing. Ugh.

MC moves to shut the door, but he sees. “MC, wait! It’s not what it looks like!”

Moving down the hallway as fast as they can, Mammon was trying to hold up his towel. “Wait! MC! Come on!”

Leviathan-

Leviathan showed MC his recent picture compilations he was creating for TSL and Rui-chan on his editing software. It was impressive.

Levi gets up to retrieve a figure he modeled one of the frames out of when MC clicks the other project he had minimized. Oh, boy, they shouldn’t have done that.

“MC, I have the,” he stopped dead.

The project was massively just about MC. Quite a few of the shots were of them together. He even had little hearts littering the frames.

“Levi, I love you, but I have to go,” MC murmured with the brightest blush and left the room.

Satan-

MC and Satan decide to go to the cat shelter. They were petting all the cats and feeding them treats. It was all in all a great day.

However, when MC glances over at Satan, where he’s ducked down to a pair of kittens, he was holding up his hand, and their little paws would touch his palm.

“Good, one more time,” Satan said.

“W-what are you doing?” MC asked.

Satan glanced over with wide eyes. “Teaching them to high five…” he trailed off.

MC put their hands on their cheeks and walked out of the room. All of this to hide the incredible blush and giddy laughter they were suppressing.

Asmo-

MC was skipping up to Asmo’s room to tell him about this sale. It was awesome, and he was going to obsess.

However, when they opened the door, they regretted it. Asmo was making out pretty hardcore with Solomon on the bed. Appalled? Shocked? MC didn’t know which.

“There’s always room for my other human!” Asmo giggled when he caught sight of MC.

Solomon covered his face. “Asmodeus, really.”

MC clapped a hand over their mouth and turned in a mechanical fashion before retreating.

“I’m never opposed to a humane threesome!” Asmo called after them.

Beel-

MC was working out with Beel. Well, more that he was working out, and they were putting chips in his mouth. It was a very gratifying experience. Both would laugh and enjoy this ridiculous routine.

It was all going like a well-oiled machine. Well… until Beel bit MC’s finger. Now it wasn’t that hard, but hard enough to make them jerk backward.

“Oh, MC, I’m sorry!” Beel puffed as he stopped his pushups.

MC took their finger to their mouth and grumbled. “That hurt, but I’m okay. You won't hurt me again, Beel.”

“Did Beel try to eat you like in your dream? I was hoping for screams and not whimpers,” Belphie murmured with a smirk as he turned over on his bed.

MC turned beyond what was considered red on the color spectrum. “I gotta go,” they rushed out and climbed off the floor.

“Wait, MC, I promise I won’t eat you!” Beel shouted as he rushed after them.

“Or he’ll try lower!” Belphie snickered.

Belphie-

MC was relaxing with Belphie in the sitting room. He was resting against their shoulder, and MC’s legs were over his lap. It was a typical evening of lazy bones being lazy cuddle buddies.

Asmo scrunched his nose while walking into the room. “It’s really unfair,” he started.

MC glanced over. “What?”

“Why is Belphie always getting to sleep with you! You never sleep with me!” He cried while crossing his arms.

“Because I do it better, Asmo. MC likes to be on top,” Belphie murmured through sleep.

MC’s eyes grew as Asmo rolled his. “Yeah, sure, like anyone would believe you fuck better than me.”

“What do you think the pillow is for? Muffled cries,” Belphie smiled over at Asmo.

MC puffed and stood up, nearly toppling over the table. Their hands landed on it for balance.

“Thank you for assuming the position, MC,” Belphie chuckled.

Needless to say, MC bolted from the room with bright mortification.

Solomon-

Magic. Always magic and human experiences. Today was no exception while they were practicing in the sitting room at Purgatory Hall.

They were working on transformative magic. Advanced and complicated.

“Now, watch, the strings will change to bracelets,” Solomon declared as he performed the spell.

MC bobbed their head as the white string did change into silver bracelets. “Cool.”

Simeon glanced over from his book. “Always talented, Solomon.”

Luke looked up from his phone and seemed wholly unamused by the situation.

“Now, it’s your turn.”

MC made the gesture and sputtered on the words. Instead of the string on their wrists turning into bracelets, they coiled around their hands and connected in a binding. MC gasped and struggled as they tried to climb off the ground.

“I didn’t realize you liked being tied up. I would have offered in private,” Solomon teased.

MC’s cheeks filled with blood and tripped as they moved toward the exit of the room.

“Solomon!” Simeon groaned.

Solomon was laughing. “I didn’t mean it. Well, maybe just a little, MC.”

They didn’t give him the chance to tease them anymore. MC struggled with the front door and began to march down the path.

“MC, you look like a demon meal like that! Come back,” Solomon called out, trying to catch them scurrying off. He laughed while following them all the way back to House of Lamentation.

Barbatos-

They were cooking together because he offered lessons. MC was always happy to help and learn to perfect a skill.

“Very good,” Barbatos nodded at MC finishing the sauce.

“Thanks, Barbatos. You’re going to get me cooking well enough to put any human to shame,” MC laughed.

“Maybe, but you were a proficient cook beforehand,” Barbatos said.

“I’ll have to cook for you sometime. Just tell me what you’d like to eat,” MC smiled.

Barbatos blushed and cleared his throat. “Anything you would like to make, MC. It isn’t often someone would like to return the favor for me.”

MC glanced over to see Barbatos had turned to the large pot on the stove. “I mean it. Whatever you want, Barbatos. I’d like to do something nice for you.”

“Why don’t you go see if we have any fresh greens?” He murmured.

MC scowled at the demon but agreed. They walked to the other side of the kitchen and went into the fridge. Glancing at the side, MC could see Barbatos subtly wiping his eyes through the reflection.

“Hey, Barbatos, I’m going to run to the restroom. I’ll be right back,” MC said and left the kitchen.

“Thank you,” Barbatos murmured as they left.

Diavolo-

Diavolo and MC were walking together through RAD as Barbatos trailed. They were on the way to a meeting, and MC was headed to lunch. This was usual, rare, but something not out of the norm. He would get his human questions in during these moments.

“MC, I heard the oddest thing from Asmodeus the other day,” Diavolo declared.

“What did he say now?” MC questioned with suspicion.

“There’s this game that you and he play. It has to do with figures of some sort,” Diavolo hummed.

“Figures?” MC asked.

Diavolo tapped his chin and glanced back. “Barbatos, what was it called again?”

“Daddy or Uncle energy, I believe, my lord,” Barbatos said while stifling a smile.

“Ah, yes, that one. Is this one of those parental human games?” Diavolo inquired while staring at MC.

Ded. one hundred percent. “No, um, Lord Diavolo, I gotta go,” MC puffed and tried to gesture toward the cafeteria.

“Wait, but he said you saw me as a father type? That’s very sweet,” Diavolo beamed with the smallest hint of mischief.

“Bye, Lord Diavolo! Bye, Barbatos!” MC rushed out and sprinted toward the cafeteria.

“I just wanted to say thank you,” Diavolo called after them with a bout of laughter.

Asmo was killed later that night. (Not really, but it could happen…)

Simeon-

Simeon and MC were in the kitchen of Purgatory Hall, baking. They had just finished the batter for the fingerprint cookies with a celestial recipe. Simeon was his usual serene self.

“Simeon, how long are these going to take?” MC questioned with the timer in hand.

“Put the timer on for fifteen minutes, and we’ll check then. I still am not confident that Solomon doesn’t tinker with the oven for experiments,” Simeon laughed.

MC set the timer and grinned. “I wouldn’t put it past him.”

“He is a very unique human,” Simeon noted with a smile.

MC laughed while picking up the towel on the counter. “Here, let me help you clean up. You have some flour on your face.”

Simeon bent enough so that MC could clear his features of the flour, all the while beaming. It was a very cozy experience to bake with the angel. He took the towel from MC’s hand and nodded.

“Let me assist. You have some as well,” he noted and wiped their cheeks with soft swipes.

Simeon’s eyes were focused on the task.

“Simeon! Solomon took my hat for a spell again!” Luke yelled as he walked into the room.

MC jumped and accidentally pressed their lips to the space just next to Simeon’s mouth. “Oh, my God!” MC puffed and bounced back.

That just made it even worse. MC clapped a hand over their mouth and rushed from the room. Fire was cooler than their face. How were they ever going to explain that?

#Obey me #obey me fandom #obey me humor #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me solomon #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me mc #obey me drabble #obey me headcanons

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whatisthiswritingthing · 3 years

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Momma - Alex Morgan x Reader

Prompt: Can you do an Alex and charlie one where Charlie calls reader momma for the first time??

“One more story,” Charlie mumbled out, already mostly asleep, face pressed into Y/N’s shoulder. Her small fist gripping Y/N’s shirt as she attempted to slip out of the bed after finishing her bedtime story.

“Why don’t we read another one tomorrow,” Y/N spoke softly, gently working to loosen the grasp the toddler had on her shirt.

“Not tired momma,” the toddler grumbled, her argument nulled by the way she burrowed her face more into Y/N’s side.

Y/N froze, unsure she had heard the toddler right. There was no way she heard her right, Charlie probably thought that she was Alex. That was the only reason Charlie would say that. But the toddler remained snuggled in as tight as she could to Y/N’s side.

“I know you aren’t,” Y/N cooed, working to loosen the toddlers hand again, “but my reading eyes are getting tired, so they need a rest and then they can read you more tomorrow.”

Charlie let out a small huff, “ok, momma,” and then was asleep.

That, Y/N definitely heard right. Charlie definitely called her momma. She laid there just savouring the moment. She had known when her and Alex started dating that she would become an important figure in Charlies life, but somehow she never considered that Charlie would see her as a mother, as her momma.

Y/N continued to gaze down at the toddler fast asleep in her arms. Charlie had moved herself to be almost on top of Y/N in order to see the pictures of the book better, her body solely sliding off as she relaxed into sleep. Now, tucked securely into Y/N’s side, Charlie slept soundly, unaware of the simultaneous panic and excitement going on beside her.

Y/N slowly, as gently as she could, slipped from the bed. Tucking the blankets back on top of Charlie, Y/N placed a gentle kiss on her head before creeping out of the room.

“Did she talk you into another story again?” Alex chuckled when she heard the patio door slide shut as Y/N walked back outside, “you’re going to need to learn to say no to her. It starts with a story, but that’s a gateway, next it’s a pony.”

When Y/N didn’t come back to her seat, Alex shifted to look around at her girlfriend. Y/N remained by the door, leaning back slightly, eyes red with unshed tears in the corners.

Alex immediately pushed out of her chair and rushed to Y/N, “Y/N/N,” the brunette gently grasped Y/N’s face, lifting it to make eye contact.

“She called me momma,” Y/N gasped out, a watery grin, making eye contact with Alex, “she called me momma, Alex, she called me momma.”

Alex smiled back, wiping a lone tear away, “of course she did, love,” she leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on Y/N’s lips and began guiding her back to the couch they had been seated on earlier.

“That means she thinks I’m her momma!” Y/N whispered to herself, still not fully grasping that Charlie looked at her as her momma.

“Why are you so surprised by this Y/N?”

Alex pulled Y/N into her arms, leaning them back into the couch. She ran a soothing hand up and down Y/N’s leg, waiting for her gather her thoughts and emotions first.

“I don’t know,” Y/N still sounded shocked, shaking her head to herself, “I always knew she would be important to me, but I just never thought she would ever think of me that way. That I was just someone hanging around, definitely not her momma.”

“Of course, she would see you as her momma,” Alex leaned in, kissing Y/N on the temple, “it’s your sweaters she steals, you she wants read her stories,”

“That’s because you don’t get the sound effects right,” Y/N cut her off, giggling.

“I was saying,” Alex chuckled with her, pinching Y/N’s side, earning a small yelp, “that kid loves you. You are her best friend in the world. You are her momma,” the brunette finished with conviction.

“I never thought I would be a momma,” Y/N sighed wistfully, glancing at Alex before easing further into her embrace and looking up, “I’m her momma,” the smile remaining on her face.

“You’re her momma,” Alex repeated, kissing her shoulder, tightening her grip around Y/N.

“Momma!” Charlie called out as soon as Y/N walked into the kitchen the next morning.

Y/N’s face instantly broke into a large smile at the greeting, it growing even larger when she saw the toddler standing on a chair at the kitchen island with Alex supporting her while they mixed pancake batter.

While Alex did most of the mixing, Charlie still managed have flour all over her pajama shirt, and batter in her hair. The forward not doing much better, batter spread up her arms, and what looked like a floured handprint on her cheek. The kitchen counter covered in baking supplies.

“Charlie!” Y/N mimicked the enthusiasm, making her way over to the pair, kissing both on the cheek, “want me to take over?” Y/N laughed, taking in the mess of the kitchen.

“Yes please!” Alex said gratefully, quickly handing off the whisk to Y/N, “there’s a reason you do most of the cooking.”

Alex went and poured two cups of coffee, leaving one to the side of the messing island, curling both hands around hers as she settled in a chair opposite the cooks.

“You had my sou chef,” Y/N leaned down and blew a raspberry on Charlie’s cheek, “so, you should have been fine.”

Charlie leaned over, blowing a messy, batter covered raspberry of her own on Y/N’s cheek in return.

“What should we put in them today Charlie?” Y/N asked, “chocolate chips or peanut butter chips?”

“Both momma?” Charlie looked at her with such sincerity over such a simple question, Y/N couldn’t help but agree immediately.

Every time Charlie called her momma, Y/N’s heart melted a little bit more. She knew she would be unable to refuse anything Charlie requested of her anytime she would call her momma. Y/N knew she was wrapped around Charlie’s finger, and would change it for the world.

#alex morgan imagines #alex morgan x reader #uswnt x reader

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skellebonez · 3 years

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Because I'm sure this is going to be inevitable, how about some angst for the Chaos Trio (Mei, Jin and Yin)? With 61 and 52

Oh I have been looking forward to Chaos Trio angst since you sent me this, anon. Despite how they act in show... I think Jin and Yin are not exactly harmless. Especially if you mess with people they start to consider family.

The Cursed AU and the Chaos Trio in it come from @winterpower98!

Warning: blood and head injuries, enemy demons limbs (not detailed).

That is not a good hiding spot./I am a really bad actor.

Things had been going pretty well, all things considered. Jin and Yin had no problem getting Mei to join them in a little bit of... let's say "competitive insurance" as it were. They had to make sure they were secured in their own little tech related ventures, and after some financial setbacks they needed extra fallback. They’d planned the whole thing out with her help, more than 2 steps and everything! She was good at that.

The problem was that someone got a lucky hit.

They would have made it out with no problems, if they all hadn't decided going on Mei's motorcycle as a group (which, now that Yin thought about it, was probably incredibly dangerous and illegal with 3 of them on it... not that they cared about legality for themselves but somehow when it came to Mei that suddenly made them concerned). But nope. 1 bike. 3 people.

One lucky shot to the rear tire.

The three of them went flying, Mei landing very impressively on her feet whole Jin and Yin bounced on a bush and thanked anyone listening that demons were sturdier than humans. They didn't thank anyone for the pieces of bike that came flying at them all, and they were certain that they heard a piece make contact with something hard, maybe the nearby light pole, but couldn't be sure.

By the time they looked up they just knew they had a group of very angry demons that were pissed they stole and then wiped their code for... something, didn't matter to the twins what it was. They just wanted their competition out of the way. For solely selfish reasons. Nothing else. Not like they wanted it to see what it was and maybe figure out a counter attack so that certain overpowered people with monkey motifs would have an easier time in the future.

Not a chance.

As they fought off the attacking demons they insisted to themselves they didn't care that much.

"That is not a good hiding spot!" Jin yelled across the battlefield as Yin ducked behind crates. "Just chuck it for now and beat em with the blunt end of something else!"

"Just give me 2 seconds, I can fix it!" Yin yelled back, trying his best to reassemble a part of his sword hilt that had broken off.

"Come on, these guys ain't so tough!" Mei laughed out, easily dodging projectiles and backsliding and slicing and dicing as she went. No one was actually killed, but they were lucky because the only reason for that was the young woman wasn't exactly out for blood. They'd be feeling every single hit well into morning though! She was doing much better than the two of them. "Grab a pipe or something! Wish I had MK's magic building power though, I'd rather not be here all-YIN!"

The younger twin looked up from where he had been crouched, eyes widening as he saw the form of a much larger demon hulking over him and ready to batter him with a club.

Things had been going well. All things considered. Then someone got a second lucky hit.

Right as Mei dove in to push the younger silver twin out of the way.

For a second the fighting stopped. There was just the sound of wood hitting hard plastic and fiberglass as the club was sliced in half by her sword and the lopped off half continued it's trajectory and slammed into Mei's head to lead to her crumbling on top of Yin. Jin stood on too of a pile of crates, watching as a line of red seeped through a crack in her visor and stained the white of her suit.

And then his entire vision was red as he lunged at the demon and sliced, sending his arm flying in the opposite direction.

The demon screamed, holding the stump that was his arm from the elbow down, backing away as quickly as he could. "W-what the hell!?"

"Mei," Yin said softly, carefully clicking the emergency release button to make her helmet digitize away. Her eyes were closed, blood dripping from a slice running along her scalp... but as far as he could tell it was from part of the helmet being cracked and cutting her. She was most likely knocked out from the impact, breathing odd but steady in her unconscious state. "You... we're going to get you to the hospital."

His tone hardened as he carefully laid her on the ground, standing tall as he grabbed his broken weapon and a nearby piece of broken steel.

"You. Are going. To pay for that," Yin said coldly, stance no longer lose and half playful as it had been the whole battle. His stood tall, eyes wide and cold and the demons surrounding them felt a chill run down their spines.

Jin stood in front of him, blood from the other demon splattered across his face and chest in a stark contrast to his orange visage.

This... this wasn't the pair of Gold and Silver Demons they had heard about before. They were known for not taking almost anything seriously, making bad deals and pacts and weird blood oaths they wasted on bizarre favors. They were known for being good at tach but not much else, most demons in the area knew vaguely of their history with the Monkey King but even that ended in failure. Their plans were half baked, goofy, and lately they'd heard they'd gotten roped in with the Monkey King's successor and renewed flame of the Six-Eared Macaque.

The two standing before them did not look like the demons they'd heard about.

Mei hadn't wanted to seriously hurt anyone. The demons heard her yelling as much on the battlefield. But now Mei was hurt.

And the twins did.

It happened fast. They wanted to get it over with quickly. Mei had also not wanted to kill anyone at the very least the twins could do was keep up their promise from earlier in the day to avoid that. And they did.

That didn't mean there weren't lost limbs. Hands and arms. A leg or two. More than a couple eyes were lost. Someone lost an ear. Another a tail and horn.

Injuries they could recover from meant as warnings.

All it took was 3 minutes and the entire storage area they crashed in was a mix of grey and brown and red. Demons holding their injuries or running off.

The one who had attacked Yin and hurt Mei stood in awe and fear, looking down at the smaller twins who has decimated an entire group so fast.

"I-how!?" He yelled, backing up slowly. "This isn't possible, you're not this strong!"

"Who told you that?" Yin asked slowly, tilting his head and watching as the demon realized... he'd never heard they couldn't fight. "We don't fight like this because we don't want to. Never meant we can't."

"Why?"

"We are really bad actors," Jin said, wiping the blood off his weapon on an unconscious demon's shirt. "Why bother trying to hold back when we can just hide it by not trying?" He turned to the demon, glowering coldly as he watched his brother pick Mei up carefully. "Tell anyone who asks nothing. We'd like to keep it that way. Unless you want a round two where someone else doesn't hold us back."

And then they were gone.

"What in the actual hell happened?" Macaque asked in an even tone. Practiced even. A dangerous even.

"Well-" "You see boss-" "we kinda-" "-there was-"

Jin and Yin tried to think of a reasonable excuse, faltering as everything they thought of sounded worse and worse in their heads.

The two sat in Mei's hospital room, towels draped around their shoulders. They’d been smart enough to stash Mei's bike somewhere safe and wash off in the ocean before coming to the hospital, less covered in demon blood meant less scared humans when they rushed in with Mei in tow, and it was easy to make the nurses believe them.

Simple bike accident, friend hurt, help please.

With Macaque staring them down with his patented death glower, shadows growing and warping around the room in response to him, it was infinitely harder.

Of course Mei's emergency contact was MK. Of course MK could call Macaque before her parents (who were apparently on their way back from some kind of dragon family business trip when they learned). Of course Macaque would show up almost immediately and begin asking questions.

"It was my fault," Mei chimed in, voice slightly off from having awoken with a nasty concussion. "I thought it'd be fun to go on a joy ride late at night, I've done it before without issues! But, uh... I've never had two passengers before... and we hit something. Don't be mad at them?"

Macaque looked like he believed Mei as much as he believed Tang would lose interest in the Monkey King and switch his field of study to obscure methods of basket weaving. Which is to say: he didn’t. But he sighed, giving Mei a small smile as the shadows returned to normal.

"Ok," he said softly, tone much more gentle with the dragon descendant as he reached out to brush loose hair out of her face. "I won't be mad at them. I'll be very disappointed-" his tone hardened for a second at those words as he turned to the twins with a glower again. "-but I won't be mad. Do you need anything?"

"Maybe a candy bar from the vending machines outside?" Mei asked with a smile.

"Sure," Macaque laughed and shook his head, moving to the corner of the room. "I'll be right back."

He sunk into the shadows, a cool trick that the twins would always be impressed by, and they breathed a sigh of relief at knowing they were alone. For now.

"You didn't have to do that," Jin said, frowning at Mei in concern. Maybe it was just because he was now the eldest in the room, but some kind of protective feel pulled at him.

"I know," Mei said with a tired laugh, laying back into her pillow. "But you guys are like... my bros. I gotta stand up for my bros."

And that made both Jin and Yin pause. They looked at each other, eyes widening as they both came to a realization that was probably a very long time coming at that point.

"Yeah..." Yin said, a soft smile forming on his face. "We'd do the same for you... you know, if you didn't take that hit for me you probably would have kicked everyone's ass way better than us! We barely got out by the skin of our teeth!" A full truth and a blatant lie, but he hoped Mei wouldn't pick up on that second part.

"You know it, boi!" She didn't.

It was odd for him in particular. Yin had never really thought of himself as an older brother before.

First time for everything.

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #gen fic #cursed au #warning: blood and injury #jin and yin #dragon form mei #long xiaojiao #the chaos trio #prompt fill #six eared macaque #but only a little #dad macaque

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punkcupcakestyles · 4 years

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Just One More Time

A story about enemies, neighbors and one night stands that are left in the past...

“Fuuuuuck!!!!!”

It is never nice to see a lady yell such a bad word with such passion and rage, but given the chain of shitty events of the day, you considered to have a pass, thank you fucking much.

The heel of your very expensive shoe laid on the floor broken, mocking you under the little ray of moonlight that sneaked through the high window in the hallway. The only thing you could see besides your closed door.

Rain clattered against the windows and every new thunder made you jump a little. You knew very well that there was no one else on the hallways with you, but your heart was still jumping in your chest, and if you focused hard enough, you could see creepy figures running across the walls.

So, you closed your eyes and rushed a little prayer as you continued to look for your stupid keys in your tiny purse as if there was any chance for them to get lost in such a reduced space.

The cold of the night had sipped up to your body, and your drenched clothes and wet hair certainly didn’t help the matter. By now, all of the effort you had put into your hair and makeup was surely gone, and your mascara was probably building up under your eyes. A drowned, harassed rat, the lyrics to the iconic and underrated Let’s Have a Kiki, sadly fit you.

A self-pitying sigh left your glossy lips and you decided that you might as well lean on the door and press your forehead to it, giving up to the pathetic reality that was that night. How much would a locksmith ask to come to your apartment in the middle of the night during a blackout? And, more importantly, would they take your liver as payment? Those were the important questions.

“Are you ok?” Your neighbor’s voice rang in the air, as he opened the door to his apartment to look at you.

Of course, he would come out then, when the wet ends of your hair stuck to your skin, and you were barefoot in front of your locked apartment. Could he have come out earlier in the night when you were looking like a goddess ready to conquer the world? No, he could not.

“Fuck off, Harry,” you muttered, not bothering to look at him. You already knew how he looked, it was always present in your mind.

“Heeeey, I’m just trying to be nice.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were capable of that.”

“You know I can be really good when I want to.”

You knew it well. You still remembered the feeling of his body on top of yours, his hips rolling onto yours, as he fucked you deep and hard.

“I wouldn’t know,” you gulped, refusing to give in even if your red face told another story.

But he knew. Sometimes, when he was all alone, all he could think about was that night and the way your back arched as he had his fingers deep in your pussy.

****

The day you and Harry fucked each other brainless, Ms. Rose’s cat died. You remembered well because it was also the third day and fifth hour of your heartbreak when you heard your sweet old neighbor’s cries and you rushed to her help, coming out of your sad little bubble for the woman that baked you cookies and knitted you a purple scarf and a pair of gloves for the winter.

When you arrived at Ms. Rose’s apartment, Harry was already there, sitting on the battered pink couch and holding her hand as she cried timidly into a handkerchief with embroidered blue flowers. She had long quit trying to come up with words, cause every time she opened her mouth, she would just blabber and sob inconsolably, so she accepted Harry’s help to explain what had happened.

Your brain gathered very few details of what was being said, choosing to focus instead on the boy sitting next to Ms. Rose. Harry was wearing a graphic t-shirt with light blue jeans and his hair was still wet from his shower, a stubborn curl falling over his forehead. You didn’t know why you would notice things like that in moments like this, but you did, you always did. Especially in the morning when he would come back from his early run, and he would take off his sweaty shirt right by his door, revealing his broad shoulders and his lean body, the tautness of his chest, and the ink that spilled across his tan skin. You would always roll your eyes at him and scurry down the stairs to get as far away from him as you possibly could, pretending you wouldn’t look at him.

So, you stood by the door because it was the safest place you could be, it was Harry-free. The air felt electric whenever you got too close to him.

“Do you fancy some tea, Miss Rosie?” Harry asked and the richness of his accent echoed down your body. Your eyes met as he got up, and you held your breath, as Harry got unnecessarily closer to you on his way to the kitchen. You could’ve sworn he had done so on purpose, the same reason why he had brushed his knuckles over yours, the light touch of his knuckles making you shiver and look at him as he walked away.

You needed to stay away from him, indeed.

“It’ll be alright, Ms. Rose,” you whispered to your old neighbor as you took Harry’s place on the couch, but as the words left your lips, you had to wonder if that was true. Would everything be alright? The world seemed a little bleaker now. Boyfriends cheated. Cats died. There was no one to trust left.

Ms. Rose reluctantly ate the cookies Harry set up for her and drank the ginger tea he had made. He sat by her other side and rubbed her back as she calmed herself down. If she didn’t, one of you might have to sleep on that couch, and you were praying it wasn’t you, cause your black dress would not do well with cat hair all over it.

But two hours later, Ms. Rose was soundly asleep and you left her apartment as carefully as you could, walking on your tiptoes so you wouldn’t wake her up. There was no elevator in your old building, which you had grown used to and usually liked, except when you had to walk up the stairs with someone else, because you never knew what to say, and today, as you walked a step ahead of Harry, it wasn’t any different.

“I didn’t know you had a heart,” You said, just as you turned to go up the last trench of stairs.

“I like Ms. Rose, and my mom always says that some tea and biscuits can fix anything,” Harry replied, and even though you couldn’t see him, you could imagine him shrugging his shoulders as a smirk started to tug up the corner of his lips. He liked Ms. Rose, he would come to her aid if she needed him. It was just that...

“So, you wouldn’t come if I was the one crying?” You turned suddenly, almost making him lose his balance and fall back down the stairs.

“Would you do it if it were me?” He asked you instead, looking up to you. He was closer than you had expected, and you suddenly felt the need to step back, so you wouldn’t feel the warmth of his body, or could smell the citric perfume on his skin.

“Of course not...” Your door was right behind you, so all you had to do was turn around and walk a few more steps. “You probably did something to deserve it,” you smirked, just as you resumed your way to your door.

“I would consider it,” Harry said, and you scoffed in disbelief, turning around to look at him only to notice he was standing behind you, his broad shoulder blocking the little bit of sun that came through the window. Winter was coming, so the sun was starting to fuck around his day job.

“Would you?”

“I’ve been thinking about knocking on your door these last few days, ask if you were ok,” Harry admitted.

There was a new feeling in the air. Any other day, you would have bitten back with some snarky remark, but it didn’t feel right. Harry stood too close to you and your body had become too aware of his presence. So you kept quiet, leaning back to your door with your hands tucked behind your back as you looked at him.

All Harry had to do was say goodbye and walk a few steps to his door, but he didn’t feel like it. He could feel the air shift as well, and the electric pull that tugged him from his belly to yours.

“So, do you want some tea and biscuits?” He offered, even though he wasn’t too sure what he was doing, or where he was going. His voice was soft, and his body leaned into the very same door you were using as support.

What if you said yes? He wasn’t even sure he had any cookies left.

The crumbly taste of ginger and vanilla lingered in Harry’s tongue, and you sighed at the prickly lemon on his lips. You had imagined how it would be to kiss him a couple of times before when your mind would drift away from your control, but even you had to admit that kissing him in real life was better.

Against every expectation, he was slow with his kiss, exploring your mouth as if he had all the time in the world. You had expected a hungrier kiss you, for him to bite you and make you jump in his arms so he could carry you into your apartment, throw you to your bed and fuck you.

Instead, he was taking over every one of your senses. He smelled sweet and citric, and the cotton of his shirt felt soft under your fingertips, as you made your way underneath it. You smiled as he inhaled a sharp breath, and the kiss broke when he smiled, the muscles of his tummy tensing up at your touch. When he kissed you again, it was a little more urgent, his tongue sweeping up across your bottom lip to part them and play with your own as he kissed you deeply, the weight of his body pinning you against the door as you blindly tried to open it. His kiss was maddening, demanding, and soft at the same time, and his leg slid between your tights, spreading them apart so you could feel him everywhere.

“What about your boyfriend?” Harry asked, grazing his words over your lips, as you managed to open the door. Your tummy fluttered at the feeling, and you opened your eyes to look at him, his swollen lips and his dark eyes. Nothing else was on your mind.

“Do you really care?”

“I have my morals...Especially if I’m gonna see him around.”

“We broke up,” you replied, already looking for his lips again, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him once more. But Harry was quicker, and he tilted his head back and smiled mischievously at you as you pouted.

“You’re always breaking up,” he said, which was true.

“How would you know?”

“These walls are fucking paper-thin.”

“Really? No wonder I always hear when you fuck.”

“Yeah?” His grin grew wider and the need that had settled between your legs throbbed tightly as he tilted his head down, until his breath fanned over your skin and you could feel each one of his words drawing on your skin. “You like listening, babe?”

It reverberated down to your tummy and raised havoc in your brain. Did you like listening to him as he fucked other girls? Of course, you didn’t. But sometimes, you had to wonder...

“Where do you get them? They’re all so loud.”

“You should try it.”

“Scream?”

“Letting me fuck you. The screams are a bonus.”

“I bet they do it out of pity.”

“Wanna find out?”

You didn’t allow yourself to think things through, because if you did, the answer would’ve been a resounding no. Fuck, no. Of course not. Keep dreaming, Styles.

Your fingers tangled in Harry’s hair as you pressed your lips to his one more time and his hands went to the hem of your dress, playing with it between his fingers as you both stumbled into your apartment. You didn’t stop kissing, not even as he kicked the door shut, and Harry took the opportunity to let his hands wander down your body, pushing the fabric of your dress over your hips and spreading his fingers across your bum to dig them on your flesh, pressing you closer to him. He could imagine the red marks of his fingers on your skin, he had dreamed of it a couple of times before, picturing you laying on his lap, with your ass sticking up and your legs rubbing together every time he spanked you. He didn’t even know why, he wasn’t a spanker. But he could do just that if you were into it.

What had been a slow kiss was turning hungrier and demanding, your rough breathing fanning over each other skin and your nose bumping clumsily as you made your way to your couch. It almost felt like you were high. The world was blurry and unimportant, and all that mattered was the lemony taste of his lips.

Harry sat on the couch, and you looked down at him as you stood between his strong legs, your heart racing so fast, you could hear it drumming in your ears. He helped you take off your dress, revealing your red lace panties and your black bra, which made him smile and look at you with eyes filled with lust. It was a good thing you were running out of clothes, and that you had to resort to your sexy underwear.

“Do you wear this to hang around your house? I might visit more,” he teased.

His hands were on the back of your thighs, and he pulled you close to him until you got no more option but to climb on the couch and sit on his lap and feel the effect of your makeout session on his growing bulge.

“Just to make myself clear,” you said. “This is not happening ever again.”

Harry didn’t care, just once was enough to satisfy his curiosity.

As you kissed him again, you understood just how freeing a slow kiss can be. It gave you a chance to explore and remember the taste, the fire, the sweetness out of your mouths. If it was going to be a one-time-only thing, you might as well enjoy it.

“Oh…” The little moan escaped your lips before you could even mold out a thought in your brain, and your mouth formed a perfect circle, hanging open as you looked down at Harry, who seemed fascinated, drinking up your reaction. You leaned back, to allow him to brush his fingertip down your slit, as his other hand was looped around your waist, helping you steady yourself up, as his thumb met your clit and he drew a lazy circle on it, the light pressure sending an electric current up to your spine.

Sex was never like this.

You couldn’t stop looking at him, not as he pushed the fabric of your side to the side and started to draw smaller and tighter circles on your clit, and as he pressed soft kisses from your collarbones down to the valley of your breast, making you take a deep breath as you took your bra off. It was the only thing you could control because everything else had been taken over by Harry. He was making sure you could feel him all over your body, raising goosebumps on your skin and making you arch your back as he trapped your nipple between his lips and continued to massage your clit in fast and steady circles, only slowing down when he felt you throb for him. He didn’t want you to cum, not yet, no, he wanted to feel you lose control around his cock.

“Fuck,” Harry moaned and a triumphant smile tugged up the corner of your lips. He couldn’t be the only one to have fun, not when the pressure of his hard cock against your ass was driving you crazy with curiosity. So, you rocked your hips on him, tightening the grip of his legs around him so he could feel you better. Every time you pushed your hips forward, your center would meet the tip of his fingers, making your walls burn for him.

“Are you gonna fuck me?” Your words were urgent and breathless because by now, a fiery need had settled in the pit of your stomach, burning down every bit of common sense that it could find. All there was left was the feeling of Harry’s fingers thrusting in your pussy, as you both ground your bodies against the other, and Harry tasted the creamy skin of your chest.

“I was thinking about taking it easy,” he said and your eyes snapped open in surprise, looking at him as he offered you a lazy grin. But it didn’t last much more than a couple of seconds, because Harry’s thumb found its way back to your clit, toying with it as his fingers slowly pumped inside of you. He was right, you had to bite your bottom lip to not let out a loud moan at the feeling. “I know you need a good fuck.”

He was right, good fucks are very recommended for your overall health. Make you happier as well.

“Please,” you begged, cause you could feel yourself starting to drip down your legs and all over his fingers, to ache for something more. You wanted to see him completely naked as you rode him. You wanted to hear his low grunts in your ear. You wanted to fuck him and regret it later, cause it was a fucking bad idea.

With his arm around you, Harry easily lifted you from his lap and you gasped, giggling in surprise as he lowered you down on the couch. He was fast and rough when he pushed your panties up your raised legs and threw them to the floor next to you. His eyes were on you, looking at you as you spread your legs open, and you let your fingertips brush down your tummy and make your way between your legs until you reached your center, warm and wet for him, and already sensitive.

You rubbed your fingers faster on your clit as he took his shirt off, and revealed the taut muscles on his chest, and the myriad of tattoos that covered his wonderful body. Then came his pants and his underwear and you couldn’t tear your eyes off of him, watching in fascination as his hard cock sprung to his belly, thick and large in all of his glory. His tip was pink and swollen, and your mouth watered just looking at it. You craved the nice stretch of your walls and the way it would hit you in all the right places.

“Don’t stop,” Harry commanded as he saw you pulling your hand away, and you gulped, letting him look as you continued to touch yourself as he looked at you. There was a knot in your tummy, a fire that was pulsing and demanding, added by the fact that Harry was there, brushing his fingers down your thighs just as your walls clenched.

Slowly, Harry laid down on the couch and settled between your legs, and you arched your back one more at the cool feeling of the air he was blowing against your warm center.

“You like this?” Harry asked, even when you both knew the answer to his question. So, you didn’t even try replying, you just moaned, enjoying the feeling of his tongue sweeping and tasting up and down your slit. His fingers wrapped around your wrist and he pulled your hand away before the tip of his tongue drew a circle around your clit and lapped on it to suck it between his lips.

The feeling of one of his fingers pushing into you almost drew you over the edge, and Harry pumped it slowly, releasing your clit only to flick his tongue over it. His fingertip massaged your walls, just in the right spot to make your whole body tingle, and your tummy quiver at the touch.

Sex was nothing like this. No, it wasn’t.

Your tummy quivered just as your legs started shaking. "Reality" was nothing more than a foreign word, and so were "control" and "restrain", because you whimpered and cried, and moaned Harry’s name as you got closer to your high. Your walls clenched around his fingers and Harry smiled in satisfaction. His name sounded fucking good coming out of your lips.

“C’mere.”

Harry stopped, just seconds before a wave of bliss took over every thought of yours, and you almost grunted in annoyance. You felt robbed.

But that feeling didn’t last long.

You could feel him in your tummy. Fuck, you could feel him everywhere. You sat on his cock and he pushed his hips into yours, thrusting his cock into you easily, you were soaked.

“Fuck,” you both moaned. Yours was more of a cry, while you adjusted around his thick, veiny cock. His was forceful and his grip around your waist became tighter, and his forehead pressed to your shoulder, just as you started to move your hips, sliding your wet pussy up and down his cock.

“You’re so big,” you whispered desperately. Your nails dug on his shoulders and you leaned back to allow Harry to suck and bite on your nipples, while you rode him.

Harry wasn’t soft or slow. You two were looking for your releases, and with his hands on your ass, Harry got to dictate your pace, and how fast you bounced on his cock. He was delirious, but so were you, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and leaned down to kiss him fully on his mouth, as he continued to fill you with his throbbing cock.

“You like my cock? Like getting yourself off on it?” Harry whispered to your ear and you moaned, riding faster as you felt his finger brushing over your tight little hole. “You have a vibrator, babe?”

“No,” you said, licking your lips as you looked at him. His eyes were almost black and beads of sweat gathered on his forehead while red splotches turned his cheeks pink. “Why?”

“So I can fuck your ass with it while you ride my cock.”

“I’ve never done that,” you admitted. Now it was all you were going to think about.

“Too bad it’s just one time, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

It wasn’t much longer before you were reaching your high, and colorful spots covered your eyes. You slacked over Harry’s body and kissed him lazily and sloppily as he fucked you. When he came, you felt warm inside, his juices dripping down your legs while Harry slumped back on the couch, with his lips slightly parted and his eyes closed as he tried to recover his breath.

You were pretty fucking sure you had imagined the whole thing. Sex was definitely nothing like that.

****

“Wanna come in?” Harry asked you, still standing by his door and looking at you as leaned back against the door.

“No, thank you, I would rather sleep on the floor.”

“Whatever you want, babe,” Harry shrugged and began to close the door to go back to his apartment. Was he actually going to leave you to leave out in the middle of a blackout on a cold night?

“Harry!!” You called for him and the door slammed open, revealing him and his shit-eating grin.

“What? I’m respecting your wishes!”

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

You have never been into his apartment before, but you called this an extenuating situation. Electricity might come back in a couple of minutes, or it might take hours, it had never happened before so you didn’t know what to expect. But it was impressively and surprisingly clean and tiny and it smelled like coffee. You could make out a guitar leaning against a window, and the shadow of a large couch against one of the walls.

Flashes of that night kept flooding your mind, which you found incredibly inconvenient and rude of your brain. But as Harry stood by your side, your skin covered in goosebumps and you found yourself taking a step back and away from him. Just in case.

“You ok, babe?” He asked and you nodded in response, trailing behind him so you wouldn’t against anything in the darkness of the room. “I’ll take the couch, you can take the bed. There’s clothes in my room, so you can change into anything you want.”

His room smelled just like him, and it was certainly a shame that couldn’t snoop around, or even see the colors he had chosen for his bedsheets. You changed out of your clothes as soon as you could, and put on a shirt that you hoped was clean before you went under the sheets.

There was just one problem: No matter how much you tried, you couldn’t keep yourself warm enough to fall asleep. Your teeth clattered and your feet were so cold you could barely feel the rest of your body. It didn’t make you feel any less ridiculous, though, as you made your way to the living room, where Harry was playing with his phone while laying on the couch.

“Harry?” You called for him and he slowly turned around to look at you, the light coming from the screen of his phone allowing you to see his face. “It’s too cold.”

“So, what do you suggest we do?” He smiled, and you wanted to swat the phone out of his hand just to spite him

“Well, I was thinking you should give me your blankets, but I guess that’s too much to ask.”

“It is.”

“So, maybe, we can just...sleep together…like, share the bed.”

“Well, if you wanted to sleep with me again, you just have to say it.”

****

Read Part 2 here!

Hi! If you got this far, I just wanted to say thank you! You make me very happy! Any type of feedback, would be greatly appreciated, but if you don’t feel like it, it’s ok, I get it! Have a nice, lovely day!!!

#harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #hs #writing #harry styles fanfiction

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mcwriting · 3 years

Text

A Science Project for the Ages

Big thanks to this anon for this request! Sorry it's taking me longer to fulfill my requests from when I was in quarantine but I'm trying to get those done soon!

This is a slight continuation of lab partners but can definitely be read alone :)

Ship: SoftNerd!Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 1883

Warnings: one blink-and-you'll-miss it bad word

⚛︎

There was a loud buzz as your phone vibrated against the wood table in the science library.

You quickly picked it up, trying not to disturb the few other students around as you looked down at the screen.

Tom.

Though you were together now, he very rarely called at this time. He knew you always studied here before dinner time and respected that.

You grabbed your notebook and bag and shuffled into the hall to answer.

"Tom? Is everything okay?"

"Hey, um. So sorry to bother you, but you've finished your science expo project, right?"

You furrowed your brows as you slid down the wall to sit and stuff your notebook back in your bag. You knew this conversation was going in a weird direction already. You could hear a faint beeping in the background.

"Uh, yeah..?"

"Right, and what was that project over again?"

"I did an analysis on light absorption of different common solutions and then compared them to the color they turned when I lit them on fire. I thought we already talked about this the other day..?"

"Yes, yeah, sorry. So one more question before I tell you what's up. Do you happen to know how to bake?" Tom asked quietly.

Suddenly you remembered what all his project was on.

He was doing a food chemistry project, explaining certain phenomenons that happen when you bake. He had hoped giving people baked goods would make them like his project more.

"I- Tom I told you I would help you but you said it would be fine," you said flatly."

"Well..... Now it's not fine, and Alex isn't here to help me. He went to his girlfriend's."

Tom's roommate. He was usually pretty patient with Tom's clumsiness, but sometimes he just had to get out and enjoy a day off, too. Tom understood, but now the burden fell on you.

"Fine, I'll be there in a little bit. Text me if you need me to bring anything."

⚛︎

You walked in to the smell of burnt. It was overwhelming and you choked as you rushed to the window to air out the apartment.

"Hey, sorry about the smell," Tom said nonchalantly from the kitchen.

You turned to see the situation at hand, which was definitely... a situation.

It was like something out of a movie. Messy bowls and utensils littered the sink. There was cake batter splattered across the counters. Finally, the culprit still sat in a muffin tin on the bar: a dozen very black cupcakes.

You sighed.

"Forgot to set the timer?"

"Yep."

"And let me guess. This was your first experience with baking?"

"That's exactly right."

"Of course," you muttered, but then clapped your hands together enthusiastically. "Well, then. Let's try and fix this, shall we?"

You leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to Tom's cheek, then brushed past him to grab the tray.

"First on the agenda, we are going to take off the papers and chuck these off the balcony to let out some frustrations, alright?"

You were lucky in that Tom's apartment was on the top floor, and his balcony faced a wooded area. The only thing he could hit was a tree and the food would eventually biodegrade into the soil.

You both tossed them, competing to see who could throw the farthest. It let Tom blow off some steam, and also gave more time to ventilate the place before you went back in.

After the last cupcake (if you could call it that) was tossed, you got started on cleaning everything up. He had used a lot of bowls for one boxed cake mix, but you didn't ask.

It took a while to make sure things were sufficiently clean, but finally everything was ready to make a new batch.

"Oh one other thing before we start. Have you ever made a meringue?" Tom asked as he preheated the oven, which you carefully supervised to make sure it was right.

"I mean, I've made some before. Why?"

"Well part of my project was talking about how egg proteins bind. They sound pretty easy. Just eggs and sugar, right?"

Your hand covered your eyes in disappointed surprise.

"What? No. Tom, meringues are like, notoriously one of the hardest things to get right. They land just before macarons, and meringue is one of the main parts of a macaron!"

"What are you talking about? How can something with two ingredients be that hard to make?" he tried to argue, but you weren't about to let him trick you into making something so difficult.

"Did none of your research explain how moisture, temperature changes, utensils used, and method of cooking affect the outcome."

"...Uh... no."

"Were you planning on using the Swiss, Italian, or French technique?"

".....I didn't know there was more than one."

"Well then you might go do a quick search to add to your presentation while I cover the cupcakes."

While he did that, you made up the batter and got the cupcakes in the oven (set at the right temperature for the right time), then got started making some frosting.

"Hey, y/n. Did you know you aren't supposed to make meringues in a plastic bowl?"

"Yep. Plastic can retain lipids which prevent proper binding. Same reason you can't whip the yolk."

"That's what this says! How did you know that?"

You shrugged.

"I like to bake. By the way, you better credit me as your pastry chef on the presentation."

"Will do."

He made some edits on the page and found a recipe claiming to be the easiest method, so you caved and agreed to help him make them when the cupcakes were done.

As you measured sugar and got the whisk attachment ready, you looked over and admired Tom as he meticulously separated the eggs.

You couldn't help but fall head over heels for him all over again seeing how he did each step carefully, all his focus on each little egg.

Sure, he was a little clumsy sometimes, but he was precious and cared about whatever he did.

It took what seemed like hours to get the egg whites whipped properly (and lots of arguing with Tom about what "stiff peaks" meant), but finally you had them in a piping bag and on a pan to bake.

You couldn't help but wait by the oven in anxious anticipation for the meringues to come out, even though they'd be in there for a while.

Tom sat right next to you on the (surprisingly) clean kitchen floor as you stared at the oven.

"Babe?" he asked softly, leaning into you.

You hummed a response, taking the opportunity to rest your head on his shoulder.

"Thank you for coming and helping me. I know you value your library time."

You smiled and sat back up, looking Tom in the eyes.

"You know, I wasn't really studying anyways. I was watching youtube videos with my headphones in because I didn't want to go home yet."

Tom had a mischievous grin and furrowed brow.

"So you just go there as an excuse to get away from me?!"

You laughed and knocked into him slightly.

"No! I just got done with my homework and wanted to hang around campus for a while... and I had a feeling you'd call eventually."

Tom gasped.

"You didn't trust me!?"

"Now that I can answer truthfully..." you started, causing him to pout. "I'm not saying I didn't trust you at all, it's just that I had never once heard of you baking and figured I would prepare myself accordingly."

"Does this mean that Alex knew too?"

"I can't speak on his behalf, but I'm glad it was just us anyways. I like getting to spend time with you like this." You paused to peck him on the lips. "Want me to read over your project? I know those spelling errors can slip by sometimes."

Tom grinned, wordlessly getting up and offering you a hand.

⚛︎

The expo was in full swing and you nervously stood on the other side of the room as your project to watch people walk by and observe your findings.

You had already given your presentation to the judging panel and now the expo was open to the public, so you tried to avoid stressing too much as you talked with some friends.

Suddenly a pair of warm arms came around your stomach and Tom's scent enveloped you.

"Hey baby, how ya feelin'?" he asked, resting his chin on your shoulder as your thumbs rubbed over his hands instinctively.

"You know me. A little nervous." You flipped in his arms to face him. "And what about you? The judges like our sweet treats?"

"They sure seemed too. Dr. Grand liked the meringues so much she asked for another."

You smiled.

"Well either way, I'm proud of us both."

"Thanks again for helping, I couldn't have done this without you. I made sure to emphasize how difficult meringue making is during my presentation thanks to you."

Finally your friends had enough of the cutesy bullshit and convinced you and Tom to rejoin the conversation, both of you with arms around each other as you conversed.

Time passed and eventually they gave prizes to the best projects of the expo. You knew you wouldn't win anything, there were some far better projects out there that included heavy research.

"And in first place, 'Science around us: the chemistry of baking' by Mr. Tom Holland! Congratulations! If all of our winners could come pick up their ribbons and get a photo for the newsletter, that would be great."

Tom stayed casually next to you, so you had to shake him and get his attention.

"Did you hear that Tom? You won!"

Tom blinked a few times, then gasped.

"I won!? I mean, we won!!?"

You rolled your eyes and pushed him forward.

"Go on, get your blue ribbon, baker boy."

He excitedly rushed up to the table where his prize awaited (tripping a few times, but you ignored that) and bounced on the balls of his feet as someone pinned the ribbon to his shirt.

You could see the sheer delight on his face as the winners took a group photo, and he practically skipped back to meet you.

You and your friends gave him congratulations as he happily looked down at the blue piece pinned to him.

He then unpinned it and tried to hand it to you.

"Now, don't congratulate me, y/n gets all the credit for making everything."

"No, no. It was your idea and you did the research. You deserve that more than anyone else. And plus, you were right. Baked goods did give you an edge over the competition."

"Well I say it was a science project for the ages!" he exclaimed, holding up the ribbon. You and your friends cheered to that.

"How 'bout we go celebrate your win over lunch, hm? The cupcake I had isn't holding me over and I'm starving."

"Sounds perfect, darling. Lead the way."

You happily headed off towards the nearest place on campus, completely oblivious to the fact that Tom had pinned his blue ribbon to your backpack.

He quickly made up time and slipped a hand into yours.

If nothing else, he was the boyfriend of the ages.

⚛︎

A/N: thanks to the anon who sent the request for this! I really enjoyed writing it! I think I could've improved some things but overall I'm pretty satisfied with it, and I hope you are too!

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bangtanpromptsfics · 3 years

Text

pyxis.

dialogue prompt #9: “Cheer up it's Christmas Eve, sweetheart”

pairing: jimin x reader

genre: christmas au, brother's best friend au, fluff, childhood friends to lovers

word count: 3,412 (oh no)

warnings: reader is a lil sad but nothing angsty tho

summary: christmas was always an eager wait. less for the tree decorations, family dinner and the fuss of toddlers. more for your childhood best friend who you kissed under a mistletoe years back.

a/n: ahhh!!! I'm not completely satisfied with how this turned out to be. the inspiration was from a few christmas themed fics I read here and the movie ‘It's Christmas, Eve’. anyway this was my attempt though it's nowhere near christmas time. one of my personal goals is to celebrate a christmas like the west, the snow, the fuss and the commotion ;-;. Also I lost sense of time and space and this turned out to be 3k ;-;

masterlist

“Cheer up it's christmas eve, sweetheart”, your mother chimes as she pours brown batter into little cupcake moulds.

You simply smile at her, the festive mood not really getting to you because of exhaustion. Uni was tough, and enjoying this Christmas when you know you have tons of essays due in a few days was hammering inside your brain every now and then.

“Is that chocolate?”, you ask, leaning your tired body on the counter where she is at work.

“And orange”, she smiles, turning around to preheat the oven.

“Where's Jin”. Though you hated the routinely flicks against your forehead, the absence of your big brother felt weird.

“He went with Jimin to get the Christmas tree”.

The mention of Jimin brings a smile to your face. His soft features and captivating grin filling your head. If there was one of the few things you enjoyed coming back to your hometown for holidays, it's chocolate cupcakes your mom bakes and Jimin.

His family are friends with yours after all. You, Jin and Jimin attended the same school until college and other priorities in life drift you apart. Though the bond must have rusted a bit, you can't deny the fact that you still have that crush which started somewhere in middle school, on a chritmas eve like this when he kissed your cheeks shyly under the mistletoe. Your friends and family, and even Jimin himself must have seen it nothing more than platonic, but you still find yourself relieving the moment in your head however crazy it may sound.

Standing up straight, you decide to fix your bed hair and complete the skincare routine before the said duo drops.

“Mrs. Y/L/n...”, Jimin softly kicks the back door. He is carrying one end of a huge fir, and your brother on the other end, grunting from the freezing snow outside.

“Oh dear place it right there”, you mother is quick to her feet helping the boys and doing her usual commentary on how well the tree looked.

Jimin looks more handsome than ever, especially with his nose and cheeks dusted in scarlet from the cold. He looks really huggable in his fluffy sweaters and red beanie. Jin is busy commanding around so you choose to sit back, a very typical sibling energy and the size of decoration boxes and the tree itself not really appetizing to your will to find any strength.

“Hey Y/n!”, Jimin stares back at your eyes in a split moment which has your lashes fluttering suddenly. You probably look like you are carrying a disease and right now you become very hyper aware of that.

“You alright? You look tired”, he comments. You feel his eyes carefully studying the black under your eyes and worrying his mind because that's what he is like. He cares about everyone and everything, has a heart so soft it hurts to even think about it.

“Jet lag...”, you say, “I'll be fine”. You shoot a little thumbs up on his way to reassure.

“Why didn't Jin get the tree earlier? It's Christmas in a few hours”, you dodge the focus around you and walk near in an attempt to closely examine the tree for no reason other than feeling Jimin’s eyes a little too long on you.

Your brother gets visibly annoyed seeing you start a very unnecessary talk. So he is completely obliged to shoot back with, “Because you were in charge of Christmas decorations this year but your lazy ass flew down here only yesterday”.

“You know I was busy with Uni!”

“Whatever”, he shrugs, getting back to the box of tree decorations. You feel a little bad seeing yourself not being helpful during a festive season. It felt like you were procrastinating on your responsibilities as always.

“Um...is there any way I can help?”, you ask softly, earning a mischievous grin from Jin and your mom fills in the answer.

“We need more baubles. Also I missed out gifts for Aerum and June, so maybe you can get them”. Now this was already tiring and you were not lying earlier either, the jet lag was still choking you alive. You wonder if the huge pile of stars and glitters beside your foot aren't enough but then maybe it's true because this is the largest fir you ever saw for Christmas in your house. And speaking of the five year old notorious duo, your cousins-- Aerum and June, you have no other option than to step out into the butt numbing cold and get something for the sake of not getting your brains eaten.

While you stand there doing these calculations, Jimin puts a two and two and immediately suggests to tag along with you.

“That'd be great! Thanks sweetie”, your mom chimes, her fine lines of face gathering around her eyes while she does so and you catch her throwing a wink to your side and you pretend you never saw that.

“Thank you Jimin”, you smile in all honesty while he reciprocates the same.

“No problem. I'll get my car. Will you be ready in an hour? I think you just woke up”

“Uh...yeah”, you fake a laugh, “Yes I'll be ready in an hour”

Jimin still lives here in your hometown, attends a community college nearby and his house is just a few steps away from your own. You remember how you had the same analogy in your mind as well. You like living here. You like Jimin’s company. The lake Park and the annual ice skating competition in December and the bookstores and coffee shops at the outskirts of the town. And you can't seem to clearly remember when and where that feeling started to become foreign. Maybe it was a teenage quirk to explore the world that you are now a three hour flight away from all of this. It wasn't a deep regret, but seeing Jimin, it almost felt like it. It felt like you betrayed him. Because he seemed to be keeping his word to this day.

This year, it's a few degrees lower than what it usually is and you find yourself chattering your teeth together as you walk to Jimin’s house.

His footsteps rush to get the door as soon as you ring the doorbell and he greets with the same wide grin as if he hasn't just saw you an hour ago.

“Let's go?”, he asks immediately, getting house keys from his coat pocket and locking the front door before stepping out making you confused.

“There's no one home? Where are your parents?”

“Oh well didn't Mrs. Y/L/n tell you?”, he studies your features and gets his response so he continues “They went to New York this year for Christmas. It's some elder people thing I think...so I'll be spending Christmas this year with your family”

“Really!?”, you chime, and then immediately notice a very childish jump you did with tiny fists and all, feeling a little embarrassed at yourself, “Ah... uh I mean that's great”.

“Yeah”, he giggles, sounding like a twelve year old who is still waiting for his growth spurt, “Get in the car it's freezing in here”.

Since it's been six odd months you've spoken to Jimin, you figured it would would be strange and awkward to be with him, but his demeanor states otherwise. He could effortlessly begin conversations and build momentum with you and by the time you are at a thrift store, he is aware of the little gist of student life and the dramatically exaggerated history research paper still due.

“What are you getting for the twins?”, he asks, seeing you checking out the kids toys section with absolutely no idea and that's exactly what you reply to him.

“How about this puzzle?”, he brings a big jigsaw to your glance and you figure it's a great thing to have their little brains engaged and give yourself time to breathe.

“It's perfect!”, you add, immediately placing it your cart with a few decors you picked up from earlier aisles.

Jimin places an extra pack of Christmas candies in the cart, and you send him a questionable look knowing it's his way of bribing the kids coming this evening. He puts too much effort into people's happiness, something you wish you were capable of as well.

The shopping went smooth. It was therapeutic to get hot chocolate with extra marshmallows afterwards like he insisted followed by that very cliche movie scene where one of them develops a creme moustache and the other notices and dabs it off.

You want this moment to linger a little longer, but your whole family arrives in less than two hours and the decorations were due. If Jin doesn't have you in the next thirty minutes he might as well eat all the cupcakes your mom is baking as revenge.

“I had a great time”, Jimin states as he stops the car in front of your house, stealing the words from your mouth and warmth hugs your cheeks immediately.

“Me too. It's been long since we spent time with each other”

You hear a lone sigh with white fogs coming out of his plump lips while he does so, as if he were suddenly sad when you mentioned that.

“Are you okay?”

His grips tightens around the steering, “I've missed you”, he says, eyes meeting slowly. And as if he was suddenly pulled back to earth he conjures another sentence to not sound so vulnerable.

“I uh... It's just--”

“I've missed you too”

Even with the gear box painstakingly blocking the way, you throw your upper half towards his body anyways and you find him hugging you back. His hugs still feel the same from years back; safe and warm and filled with love.

If it wasn't for the constant reminder that your brother is probably plotting a murder against you, you would've stayed much longer in his embrace. Maybe the hug was a big straightforward for a bond still gradually blooming, but it didn't feel weird at all and when you pull back he is smiling down at you.

“I thought you two lovebirds flew off”, a very annoyed Jin states from above you. He is balancing himself on a chair to attach the mistletoe to the ceiling.

“Sorry hyung”, Jimin says. And somehow now you are getting super aware of the way your family is low key shipping you both. Not that it's an irritating thing of course though you seem to act like it. But you have no idea what's going on with Jimin, what if he said he missed you as your childhood friend? It's a lot difficult to segregate his priority of giving affection. He seems to be giving justice in terms of care for every living being he knows.

“The circus is on its way so I hope you both hurry with putting up everything together”, the voice above states, now lowering himself to ground after putting up the twig.

Three of you giggle at the mention of your family as a circus. Well in a way it definitely was. You have a bunch if uncles who crack awful jokes, a trait Jin himself as picked up from a tender age of ten. Then their wives and kids who share certainly the same braincells in comprehending things. You bet they'll ask you again about your major and your dating history once they walk in through that door amidst clearly stating everytime that you are a history major and yes still very single.

In the hallway there is a half decorated tree. A thread of fairly lights wrapped around the green and very few baubles hanging here and there.

“I'll put up the star and join you”, Jimin says, digging out a golden star from the carton. Though now he doesn't know why it was a good idea for him to announce that when both of you were almost the same height. He is just a few centimeters taller than you and the top of the fir is still very much way above your heads.

So with a chuckle you both figure Jin has to do it.

“This is your final year right?”, Jimin asks stepping closer to you. He seemed nervous about something. Or was it anxious?

“Yeah...you?”

“Yeah...”, his sweet tone was drawn almost like a whisper and you sense you should ask him further about what's wrong. But before you had to deal with a starter he continues,

“Are you planning to work in Chicago as well?”

“Sweetheart help me clean up the kitchen please”, your hear your mom's voice overpowering through the house. Which is good. Because you don't know what you are supposed to answer. It was as if he was almost hopeful that you'll choose your hometown all over again. But you aren't sure. So you take the opportunity to step away from the situation excusing yourself.

And while you are clearing the blobs of batter stuck on the counter, your mind is a haywire. What are you going to do? Though you know your whole family wants you to stay, it's still a foggy place to be in. Four years apart in another city as a college student has not provided much, except caffeine addiction and sleepless nights. Things were not even as fun as everyone told you.

A few steps away Jimin silently prays that you stay, because he had truly missed you. Even though you have outgrown from the eighteen year old shell as he had known, he finds himself actively choosing to be with you. Even when other things in life occupies his mind, there's an element of it which goes back to you.

“They are here!”. You groan silently, while your parents are throwing their hands in air, giggles and chatter fills in as your uncles and aunts and the taunting toddlers welcome themselves in.

“Y/n! You have grown so much!”, the older aunt comments, and you supply a manufactured smile to tag along. Other comments follow by soon, about how tired you are, gasps about not having a partner and future plans, all of which are not completely answerable at the moment but you manage to get through them all and finally excusing yourself back to the garage convincing there are more decor supplies in there.

Families are nice. They make festivals brighter and lives less lonely. But yours was just hard sometimes. Not that you completely loathed the people now fueling themselves off the cup cakes your mom bakes, you were just merely lost, still yet to come up with an answer to what your stance is after graduation.

“Hey...”. Jimin has joined you now which you notice feeling a warmth against your shoulder when he sits, with an extra scraf knowing the garage is still comparatively chilly than the house, “you okay?”.

“Yeah...I was just...thinking”

“Is this about earlier? I'm sorry if I made you anxious”, he quickly adds.

“No!...I mean yeah but, it's high time I find a ground with this. What are your plans?”

“I was thinking about teaching at Jefferson High”, he shifts rather uncomfortably. He is talking of the school in your town, your school, where you have lots of memories with Jimin, “You know...like we said during Junior year in high school?”

“I'm sorry Jimin”, you feel the guilt inside you growing, “I never kept my promises”.

“Hey...that's okay! Everyone changes. I just want you to be happy. I...I hope you are happy Y/n”, he reassures, taking your hand from your side and squeezing it between his soft palms.

“I don't know about that either...”

As much as you hated showcasing vulnerability to another person, you know Jimin is an exception. You had cried to him about everything during school days and he had never invalidated a single thing, even when you were visibly dramatic over a downpour during a family picnic when you were five.

Jimin is frozen on his seat as if he can't find the words. He was never good with words so instead he hugs you, a little longer than the last time till he is sure you have calmed down. Grateful for not ending up crying, you smile up at him and remind yourselves to get back inside to avoid suspicion, especially from the kids who take humiliating people as an important milestone to achieve.

When you enter back inside and get immediately surrounded by a million questions and chores thrown at you, you find your answer. Maybe your heart belongs back to everything your younger self had blabbered about. Not to mention, this fairly good reunion with your crush feels nice, though, he might still see it as platonic. Maybe he makes things less daunting.

By the way Jimin was owning everyone's heart in the house, it felt like he was family. Well in a way he is. But to put more clarity, he bought things together and his actions bought so much peace and love within everyone. Even the notorious twins listen carefully to him and help the uncles and aunts in the kitchen.

He is again by your side, two cupcakes rests on his palms and you take it with a silent ‘thanks’.

Seeing no signs of him beginning a talk now, you think of coming up with something. Maybe a memoir from today? Or about how absolutely handsome he looks right now? Wait.

“They are under the kissing twig!”, Aerum screams like the house caught in fire, her sibling joining by the side to provoke the habit even more.

“It's called a mistletoe Aerum”, your aunt corrects before pasting a smug across her lips.

Nothing changed. They are the same people. Hyping you and Jimin to kiss just like when you were thirteen. If the factor of time is removed, this is the exact night. Both of you cemented to the flooring as if you forgot to exist.

Both of your necks snap together to the mistletoe Jin had attached to the ceiling earlier. And when you lower your gaze back, face gawks at each other eye to eye. It's the same. He has that blush, the shyness from years ago. It's going to be platonic. Yet again. And this moment will only ever be romantic and flowery in your head.

June was the first to squeak, and Aerum shuts her eyes the moment Jimin is leaning his mouth towards your lips. It was difficult to relax under the stares of many, but when he ghosts his mouth over your again and leans in for a second kiss, you are fixated on him. Hands holding each other, the plump of his lips so soft it felt like you were biting into a fluff of cloud.

Maybe he'll have an explanation to your family for this. Not like anyone in the audience was disappointed. Your mother was almost in tears? And Jin looked hardly surprised with any of this. As if it was all swell according to his plans.

“You both are so cute”, one of the aunts awes and your mother is quick by her side, completely agreeing to it.

“Jimin...”, you return your gaze to the equally flustered man who just kissed you and he sounded almost breathless,

“I'm sorry if this was wrong it ju--”

“I like you”, you immediately snap in and his face is a void for an instant. Fully processing the words, his eyes disappear when he grins, “I like you too...a lot”.

“Are you two dating?”, the twins haven't dropped the case yet, running to your feet to help their curious brains.

“Yes...”, Jimin responds, looking up at you for a reassurance, which you quickly supply with a nod, “Yes we are dating”.

When the kids are satisfied they go away snickering to themselves.

“I decided to stay”, you say.

“Really!?”, his disbelief was comical, yet wholesome considering how much he wished for this, “I'm...I'm so happy!”.

Giggling at him, this time you lean forward and peck the corner of his lips.

“You lovebirds better get a room”, Jin announces and thankfully not loud enough to catch everyone else's attention.

Usually Jin expects a punch to his arms from his sister, but he sees how grateful you are for his mistletoe decor. He leaves the couple, satisfied that there won't be any more ranting about how much Jimin likes you.

Thank you so much for reading!! ♡♡

Original Content of ©bangtanpromptsfics

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mystic-deep · 4 years

Text

"Whipped Cream" - Part 1 | Nanami Kento fem!reader

♡ ♡ ♡ description: Taking cooking classes seemed like a nice way to relax and sharpen your skills, too bad the teacher hates you.

♡ ♡ ♡ warnings: none, some mild swearing near the end, rating will go up due to explicit content in later chapters.

♡ ♡ ♡ notes: Chef Nanami anyone? Probably the only job that he'd actually enjoy haha. I'm not sure how many parts this will have but I'm not going to rush it, I pretty much have the plot and ending all planned out, let's see how fast we can get there haha. As always, didn't have time to proofread so please don't mind the mistakes.

♡ ♡ ♡ word count: 2.5k

“Happy Birthday!”

Sitting at a table inside a small restaurant, you looked at your best friend as she handed you a colourful envelop. Money? She wasn’t your mother. A postcard? Too cheap considering she only bought you a bouquet of flowers.

“Open it already!”

Like obeying a command, you opened it and peeked inside. A gift card? How original. You spent days preparing the gift for her birthday and she gets you a gift card. Seeing your disappointed expression, she quickly explained.

“It’s a cooking course! You always said you wanted to attend one but never got the time, I figured if I bought it, then you’d have no choice but to go.”

You took the card out and began to inspect it. The words VIP were written in a golden colour as well as the name of the school you’d be attending.

“It was the most popular course, apparently you have to book it months in advance. I was really lucky since someone dropped out at the last minute.”

“When will I have the time to-”

“Shhhh!” She placed her index finger on your lips in order to shut you up. “The group session is thrice a week and you have twelve lessons in total. It’s after working hours and if for some reason you can’t attend then they can schedule a private lesson for the weekend. Benefit of a VIP and all.” She flipped her hair in a proud way and you fought back the urge to roll your eyes. Who says money can’t buy a very expensive and needless cooking course?

The truth was, you loved to cook, it was the only time you felt calm in your otherwise hectic life. You were also pretty good at it but self-taught. You once joked that it would be fun to take some lessons and actually sharpen your skills but that was the point, you were joking. You remember the promise you made to yourself at the beginning of the year that you would go to the gym every day and get in shape. You bought a class pass for a year with a personal trainer and only ended up going for a week or two. You still received reminders weekly that you should be attending since it was already paid.

“Thank you, it’s a really thoughtful gift.” You offered her a smile as you played with the card in your hand. Well, one lesson or two might not take up too much of your time. You were also curios to know why this particular course was so popular.

“You’re welcome! Also, from what I’ve heard but nothing confirmed yet, the chef that’s going to teach you is really good looking.” Her eyes gleamed and you wondered if she was sending you out like a scout, to test the water and if it was good then she’d join as well.

“Wonderful, I can’t wait to be surrounded by an army of housewives.”

Monday afternoon you found yourself at the reception of the cooking school you’d be attending for the next couple of weeks. You had to admit that so far the building looked impressive. There were several classes from what you could tell and the lobby was already pretty crowded.

“Can I help you?”

The pleasant looking receptionist gave you a smile and you handed her your VIP card.

“Yes, I’m here to attend the course with chef Nanami Kento.”

“Oh, Nanami-sensei!” She gleefully took your card and began the registration. “You’re pretty lucky, this is our most popular class. It’s quite unusual for someone to drop out.”

“So I keep hearing.”

She gave you back your card as well as a small bag that contained several items.

“You have here your apron as well as your class schedule and several cooking accessories that you get to keep at the end of the lessons. The class is 10-A, the very last room at the end of the corridor. I hope you enjoy this experience!”

You smiled and thanked her before heading to the classroom. Upon entering you realized that your fears had been justified, the whole room was filled with women ranging from mid-thirties to some ladies that looked in their sixties. Only women, and they all seemed to know each other.

You moved to one of the islands in the back, taking out your apron and putting it on. You had to admit you kind of felt like you were participating in the Great British Bake Off. In terms of gadgets at your disposal, everything was modern and your island was well equipped with everything one might need for the cooking process. You had your very own oven and stove as well as a Kitchen aid and several other utensils. In one of the drawers you found a cutting board as well as a set of knives and several bowls. You were starting to realize why the fee had been so expensive.

“First time here?”

You turned around and nodded sheepishly at a group of older looking women.

“I guess everyone knows each other huh?”

“For most of us this is the second time we’ve taken this course, it’s quite lovely, you learn a lot of things.” You couldn’t help but wonder why they would need to take the exact same course twice. Either they didn’t manage to learn what they were supposed to the first time around or the chef really was thathandsome.

“I’m looking forward to it as well, I want to sharpen my skill and this one came highly recommended.”

“Are you married?” The question came as a punch in the gut and they all looked at you like it was the most normal thing one could ask.

“We didn’t see a ring on your finger.”

“Urm no, married to my work perhaps.” You offered a light chuckle but no one else found it funny.

“Then for whom are you sharpening your skills for? Any children?”

At this point you thought their questions were quite intrusive and rude. Were they perhaps thinking that you were a threat? A young new girl that was going to steal away the attention of their sensei? You were actually starting to get aggravated by their attitude. What happened to solidarity between women?

“I want to sharpen them for myself. No children, just a cat, pretty lucky I suppose.” Their eyes narrowed and you smiled to yourself. Teasing them was proving to be quite fun.

“Oh? Well, you’ll want them when you’re older. Although, you should probably hurry, not much time left to spare.” By this point your hand was itching to slap at least one of them. What an unpleasant bunch of old hags!

You were ready to give a sharp reply when the door of the classroom was opened and your teacher stepped inside. You hated to admit it, you really hated it, but he was indeed handsome. Blonde hair, light coloured eyes, build like a brick wall, sharp features and when he opened his mouth to greet the class, you fawned over his deep voice.

“I’m glad to see some familiar faces…and new ones of course.” His eyes landed on you and you shifted, feeling like a doe caught in the headlights. His presence was quite something, no wonder these women were ready to turn into harpies just for a bit of his attention. Still, it wasn’t enough to win you over. If anything, you felt an instant antipathy towards him-he seemed too arrogant for your taste.

“We’ll start our first day with a test bake. I want to see each and everyone’s level before we begin our lessons.” As he spoke, he neatly rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt and put his own apron on. You could actually hear sighs going around the room but he seemed unbothered.

“You can bake anything you like, something you’re comfortable and good at.” With that said, he gave you an hour and a half to see what you’d come up with.

You decided on your famous lemon cookies, they were pretty easy to make and every time you baked a batch your friends would fight over it. As you were creaming the butter with the sugar you felt a presence near your station and turned to look at Nanami that was peeking inside the glass bowl.

“What are you making?” Just like that, no introduction, no small talk, right down to business.

“Lemon cookies. They’re-”

“Quite a simple recipe, don’t you think? I wanted to see your level, this is something even a child could bake.” Your heart dropped a little. You weren’t great at taking criticism and you couldn’t stand how those old hangs from before were snickering behind you.

“You said to bake something that we’re good at.”

“So lemon cookies are the only thing you’re good at? Hmm.” With that he left your station and you just stared at his back as he went on to check on someone else. Your cheeks turned red with embarrassment and anger. You were going to shut him up, once he had a taste of your cookies he’d eat his words, as well as the whole batch.

It seemed, however, that the universe was working against you. The batter didn’t have enough time to chill and since you weren’t accustomed to the oven you over-baked them. You stared at the plate of spread lemon cookies, not one looking the same as the other, and chew on your bottom lip.

With your baking time coming to an end, he was walking from one stand to another, mostly complimenting the results. The other women in your class were a giggling mess, thanking him like he had offered salvation just for eating one of their treats.

When he finally reached your station, you felt his judging eyes burning holes into your very soul.

“What happened?”

“Well, the fridge is not set to the right temperature. The one I have at home is much cooler, and I didn’t have time to let the batter set. Also, the oven is different from-”

“A simple recipe but you couldn’t finish it properly. Everyone in class uses the same type of fridge and oven, no one else had any problems.”

You wanted to argue back, wanted to say how unfair it was since they were all well accustomed to their working stations because they had already taken this class. Instead you kept quiet and fought back tears that had formed at the corner of your eyes. If you wanted someone to look down on your work you would have stayed overtime at your office.

“Can’t be helped, since you’re at beginner level. You have to keep up with the rest of the class so please pay extra attention during lessons and don’t hesitate to ask your classmates for advice.” With that said he continued to stroll around the room, throwing nice remarks left and right.

When the class was finally over you grabbed your bag and dashed out of the room. You struggled to take off your apron as you walked through the main reception and into the elevator that led to the parking lot. When you finally managed to set yourself free you fished the phone from your handbag and dialled your friend.

“Hey little chef, how was your first-”

“Horrible! I’m never coming here again!” You practically screamed in your phone as the elevator doors closed. You were shaking with anger and as you stared at your reflection in the mirror from the opposite wall, you also realized you looked just as upset as you felt.

“He’s an ass! He didn’t teach us shit! Test bake he said, so I made my lemon cookies you know.”

“Oh I love those!”

“Right?! Too easy he said, even a child could make them! The damn fridge wasn’t working properly and I forgot to set the oven so they spread a little but they were still good! Then he just made fun of me in front of the whole class and ugh don’t even get me started on them-” You continued to vent as the doors of the elevator opened and you stepped inside the underground parking lot.

“All of them have taken the class before and they’re just here to drool over the teacher. I swear it’s a fucking joke, his class is only popular because every single middle-aged married woman there wants to fuck him!” You stopped from your raging rant to look for your cars keys that were nowhere to be found. “I swear they all have some sick fantasies with him! He’s not a chef, he’s just some thirty something guy that preys on naïve women. He probably doesn’t even know how to whip cream!” You huffed in anger while trying to juggle the bag you received at the reception, your handbag and your phone.

“Where the hell are my car keys?”

“They seemed to have fallen at your feet.”

You froze, feeling the blood draining from your body. You turned around in slow motion and looked up at the figure of your teacher who was only a few feet away from you. You didn’t realize just how tall and menacing he looked until now.

“Urm, I-”

“I’ll be seeing you on Wednesday. That is, if you want to attend a class taught by a guy who doesn’t know how to whip cream.”

The sweet embrace of death couldn’t have come faster. You picked your keys from the ground and tried to form some kind of apology but he quickly walked through the parking lot towards his car. He opened the door of an expensive looking Mercedes and drove away, leaving you standing there like a complete moron.

“Y/n are you still there? What happened?”

“Oh god, oh god, I’ve fucked up!” You began to walk to your car feeling like the worst person on earth. “I’m not sure how much he heard but he heard plenty.”

“Ohoho this is getting interesting!”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying this.” You spat bitterly as you opened the door of your own car and stepped inside, throwing you bags on the empty seat. “Well, I shouldn’t bother with what he thinks anyway. He was mean to mean first and it’s not like I’m going again.”

“Oh no, you’re not getting out of this one! I didn’t spend so much money just so your workaholic ass can come up with excuses not to attend! I don’t care if he likes you or not, despite what you may think he was highly recommended for his skill not for his looks.” You grumbled as you turned on your engine, really hating the fact that your friend was making a point. You loved to cook, you were good at it, you might have had a bad day and now your teacher hated you, but you shouldn’t give up on the opportunity to learn proper cooking skills.

“Alright, I’m going to try a few more lessons. It will be a miracle if he doesn’t kill me by the end of the week.”

“That’s my girl!” You rolled your eyes and hanged up the phone before driving off. You really didn’t like Nanami and now he had more than enough reasons not to like you, but you also weren’t a quitter. If anything, you will continue to go to classes out of pure spite. You’ll show him how skilful you actually were, far better than any of those hyenas from your class. You’ll whip that cream until you’ll turn it into butter.

#jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #kento nanami #nanami kento x reader

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jonahlovescoffee · 4 years

Text

Unbelievable | J.M.

a/n: bc jonah in the unbelievable music video is just hot hot hot hot hot :) i’ve been putting this one on hold for way too long. not rlly satisfied with the way it went but i promise it’s not that bad (i think) lol happy reading <3

summary: jonah’s outfit was unbelievable and so was his ability to pleasure you anywhere, even in the kitchen.

warnings: kitchen smut as requested by @averysbestyears

word count: 3362

“your taste; i could drink, i could drink, i could drink a whole damn case; every drip, every drip, couldn't let you go to waste”

You spent the entirety of your morning out and about running errands, only returning to the apartment you shared with your boyfriend late in the afternoon with bags of groceries in hand. With Jonah out with his band mates to film a music video for their upcoming single for who-knows-how-long, the apartment you shared with him seemed unusually quiet and empty without the constant couple banter between you both. In attempt to lessen the feeling of loneliness caused by the deafening silence, you put on some relaxing music on the stereo before putting away all the groceries, leaving only the necessary ingredients for a chocolate cake on the counter. After tying your hair up in a messy bun, you got started excitedly with your baking, humming softly along to the music as you worked. Despite having baked for countless times before, you still weren’t exactly good at it, your clumsy self often knocking over and accidentally spilling everything and anything everywhere which explained why your counter looked like a chaotic war zone half an hour later when you were done.

You heaved a relieved sigh when you managed to put the cylinder pan filled with cake batter safely into the oven, a triumphant smile plastered on your face. You were about to start cleaning up the kitchen when you heard the faint sound of the door opening and closing so you rushed to the living room immediately to be greeted by the sight of Jonah taking off his shoes at the foyer. He smiled when he looked up and saw you, opening his arms for you which you run into with glee.

“Welcome home, love,” you giggled as he picked you up off your feet and spun you around few times until you squealed and asked him to put you down.

“Missed you so bad,” he said and placed a tender kiss on your head as he followed you into the kitchen, an arm around your waist. “Baking again?” He asked after sniffing the air that was filled with the slightly bitter scent of the chocolate cake that wafted out through the oven, completely oblivious to your lingering gaze on him that was sneakily examining him from head to toe—eyes darting from his tousled brown hair to the dark grey t-shirt that hugged his muscled figure perfectly, showing off the subtle outlines of the toned abs hiding underneath, to his long white jacket that reached his knees and jeans of the same colour—and gosh, he sure looks handsome. How nice must it feel to let your hands roam his body and—

“Baby?” He called, snapping you out of your train of thoughts and you blinked several times at him who was waving his hands in front of you, trying to get your attention.

“Yes, what were you saying again?” You smiled sheepishly at him, light pink tinting your cheeks, embarrassed by your explicit thoughts although no one heard them apart from you. But Jonah had known you long enough to figure out the exact thoughts that were running through your head a moment ago. And as a good boyfriend, he couldn’t leave your wishes unattended, could he?

“Well, I was asking if you need help with cleaning but I think we’ll get to that later, hmm?” A smirk made its way onto his face as he backed you up until your back hit the edge of the counter and he pinned you against it, his tall figure towering over your petite one. “Since you’re so overly interested in admiring my body,” he said smugly and you blushed a darker shade of crimson, guilty as charged.

“It’s...it’s your fault for dressing like this today,” you stuttered nervously while avoiding his gaze, earning a small chuckle from him.

“I’m glad you like my outfit,” he licked his lips before cupping the back of your neck to tilt your head so that you were looking at him directly in the eyes. “But I think you’ll like it better if I take them off, am I right, baby?” He asked, his voice turning husky.

“No! Definitely not! What are you talking about?” You hurriedly waved your hands in front of yourself in denial but your wavering tone wasn’t convincing enough. This bastard already knew the answer to his own question and the last thing you would do was admit it out loud to feed his ego (actually it was because you were too much of a coward to do so but we don’t talk about that here).

Jonah could feel his self control that he had put on himself ever since he walked through the front door gradually faltering at the sight of how innocent you looked on the outside — how flustered you got at the mere implication of sex like you had never done it your entire life — and how much it fueled his desire to take you right then and there in the kitchen, which was precisely what he was going to do. “Well baby, I’ll keep my clothes on then, but this means you gotta lose yours.”

“No, that’s not what I meant...ahh,” you were cut short by a gasp of your own when his lips connected with your neck without warning, generously leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses from your jaw down to the column of your neck, sending a shock of heat through your core.

“Then what do you mean, sweetheart?” With you guys’ handful of previous experiences, it didn’t take long for him to find your sweet spot, abruptly scraping his teeth against it, easily biting hard enough to create a bruise, earning a moan from you as your hands instinctively found their way into his hair, tugging at his brown locks lightly until a groan managed to slip past his lips.

“I...,” you trailed off, still too timid to speak your mind. When you didn’t make a move to continue your sentence, he pulled away from you and you almost whimpered at the sudden loss of contact.

“Go on. I’m waiting,” he urged, his fingers drumming the countertop impatiently, waiting for your reply. “I won’t start until you tell me what you want.”

“I want to feel you,” you replied quickly, spilling out all the words out in one go and with a satisfied grin, he lifted you up onto the counter and he was standing between your legs.

“Yeah? Which part of me, baby?” He teased, both of his hands now on your waist, his thumbs gently tracing random patterns.

“Every part of you, Jonah, fuck. So can we stop with the talking and start doing now?” You yanked him closer by the chain around his neck before finally connecting your lips with his, opening your mouth on a second’s notice when you felt his teeth sink into your bottom lip lightly, granting his tongue full permission to slip into your mouth almost immediately. You couldn’t help but release another moan as soon as you tasted the coffee that he probably just drank in the car on the way home on his tongue.

Not just any coffee. You knew the difference between the tastes of all kinds of coffee like the back of your hand. The bitter taste with a hint of the sweetness of chocolate that engulfed your senses now was definitely not the taste of the straight black coffee he usually preferred.

No, it was the taste of mocha—your favourite type of coffee.

“You prick, you expected this to happen, huh?” You asked when both of you pulled away to catch your breaths, your faces remaining inches apart, your breaths mingling with each other’s.

“Maybe,” he chuckled darkly as his fingers slowly curled around your neck, “We always end up naked after every of my band photoshoots in one way or another so why not be prepared this time?”

Before you can let a string of vulgar curses escape, he attached your lips with his once again and from the way his hand tightened around your neck and the rougher movements of his tongue, you knew that he wasn’t planning on holding back his feral hunger for you this time round, subsequently making you moan with extreme pleasure when your tongues entwined and also at the thought of what he was about to do to you.

You angled your head to deepen the kiss as your hands grabbed fistfuls of his jacket, a silent plea for him to take it off, in which he responded with shifting his body enough for you to slip it off, the expensive white material thudding to the ground, revealing his strong tattooed arms. You let you fingers trace his biceps for a moment before moving your hands downwards to pull his shirt out of his jeans but he stopped you before you could remove his shirt.

“Don’t,” he said sternly into the kiss and grabbed both your hands in one hand quickly. He pulled away, biting your bottom lip with a force strong enough to make it swell slightly. “It’s not your turn until I say so,” he snarled and you felt heat pooling at your core just from the serious look on his face. “Now lie down,” he ordered and forced you down with the hand around your throat swiftly but carefully so you were laying flat on the counter, on top of all the spilled flour and some cake batter, the unkept baking supplies pushed to the very end of the counter.

He did not wait any longer to peel your shirt off you and you watched him exhale sharply as his eyes darkened, the black of his pupils almost consuming all the vibrant hazel surrounding them. “Fucking hell baby,” he tossed your shirt aside as his eyes drank in every curves and edges of your bare upper body. You didn’t bother to put on any undergarments when you changed after you got home from your grocery run, thinking that since no one’s home aside from you it’ll be totally fine. You made a mental note to do this more often in future because his stunned turned-on expression was definitely something you would want to see again. “Is it my birthday or something today?”

“You’re not the only one who came prepared,” you said cheekily, adding in a hushed tone, “Just so you know, I’m not even wearing anything underneath my pants either.” A string of profanities fell from his lips at your words as his hand made its way between your thighs, pushing your shorts aside to slip in his fingers. The wetness that his fingers were immediately greeted with was proof enough of your testament, earning a satisfactory groan from him.

“Now, where shall I start?” He asked, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip as he stared down at your shirtless figure splayed on the counter like his own personal feast. “Here? Or,” He teased, his hands travelled down to one of your breasts from your neck and let a finger draw circles around your nipple. “Here?” He tentatively dragged his fingers unhurriedly along your slit, collecting your ever growing slick, which had you whimpering and grinding against his fingers, in desperate need of as much friction as possible, yearning to feel more of him but the movement of his fingers remained so excruciatingly slowly.

“So fucking needy, aren’t you, my little slut?” he tisked, flicking his middle and index fingers between your hard nipple, earning an involuntary moan from you. “I’m barely doing anything,” he chuckled before taking his fingers that were coated in your sticky arousal and bringing them to his mouth, making sure that your gaze was on him as he licked them clean. “Tastes so fucking good as always.”

“Jonah, please,” you begged, “touch me more.”

“Oh I’ll do so much more than touching, babygirl,” you bit your tongue to suppress another moan at his words that were immediately followed by the sound of him falling onto his knees. His fingers gripped your thighs, pushing them further up and apart, his face nearing your dripping core. He let out a little huff on the inner part of your thighs, causing your legs to slightly shiver and your pussy flutter.

“Fucking gorgeous.” he breathed, his eyes staring hungrily at your cunt before laying his tongue flatly against your clit and let you rut yourself against it for a second before he unexpectedly gave it a harsh bite with a little bit of force. You slammed your hands against the counter right away and let out a loud gasp.

“Whoops, my bad,” he chuckled and you felt him smirk against your flesh. “Let me try this again.”

He wrapped his mouth around your throbbing clit before starting to suck it softly, his tongue flickering back and forth against it before moving his mouth lower and sweeping his tongue against your folds. It almost hurt with how incredible you were feeling right now. His mouth was hot against you as his velvety tongue continued swiping back and forth against your clit, faster and harder each time. The way he groaned at the taste of your body intoxicated you with more lust and you soon found yourself unable to think, hear, feel or remember anything else save for the name of the male that was eating you out like it was his last meal.

And when he finally moved his tongue into your pussy, it felt too good to be true. So fucking good that you were about to combust with pleasure. He went at a slow pace at first but then sped up every three thrusts until you were softly chanting a continuous series of “yes” under your breath. It seemed that he didn’t think that was enough, for he moved a finger to your weeping core, the rough pad of the tip of his finger pressing down and moving around in circular movements.

He was so rough but it felt so good, every lick and suck successfully building flares of heat in your adomen. “I...I’m close,” you stuttered, not really able to speak in your current state of bliss.

“Yeah? You wanna cum, darling?” Jonah asked, replacing his tongue with two fingers that managed to slip into you ever so easily due to how wet you were, pumping them in and out quickly.

“Uh-huh,” You nodded, your hands finding their way to him naturally, clinging onto him for dear life as he skillfully finger fucked you, your high gradually approaching with each thrust of his digits. Without any warning, he attached his lips to your bundle of nerves and sucked on it, right when he curled his fingers inside you, easily finding and hitting your g-spot. Your hands tightened on his shoulders, nails digging into his thick, supportive muscles.

“Cum for me, darling.”

Your walls tightened on him and an orgasm wracked through your body at his command, back arched while your thighs trembled as you came undone around his fingers. Panting slightly, you tried to regain your breath but before you knew it, his tongue went back to work again, swirling around to capture every single drop of your sweet juices into his mouth, the slurping noises and the ethereal feeling of his tongue on you turning you into a moaning mess.

“Fuck, darling, you taste so good,” he complimented, pulling his fingers out of you and put them in his mouth, licking them clean while looking at you and you let out an unrecognisable sound from the sight alone. “Couldn’t get enough of you. C’mon here.”

You did as he told, sitting up and scooting closer to him, your hands itching to undress him but you didn’t once you remembered his warning. You despised him still being fully clothed while you were already stripped bare for him but you also knew that one, going against him would accomplish nothing but getting punished on your part and two, he would adhere to your wishes once he felt like it.

And you were right.

“Take it off, I know you want to,” he said and you pulled his shirt off him excitedly before undoing his belt and his jeans, pushing them down along with his underwear and they pooled at his ankles, leaving his member standing at attention, already leaking with precut with all the lust bottled inside him.

“Wanna keep you close when I fuck you senseless, baby,” he teased your entrance with the tip of his cock and you whined. “You’d like that wouldn’t you?” He nudged your folds slightly and you nodded.

“I want your dick so bad,” you admitted with a hint of shyness and his lips broke into a small smile before pressing a quick kiss to the tip of your nose.

“Mmhmm, and I’ll give it to you, pretty girl,” he sheathed himself inside of you and you let out a gasp at the sudden intrusion.

Taking a few slow thrusts to allow yourself to adapt to his size, it’s only a moment before Jonah completely bottoms out inside of you. He watches your face shiver in pleasure which he mirrors. He clasped your hips so firmly his knuckles turned white; it didn’t even hurt as all you could focus on was him inside you. Your hands found their way to his biceps, gripping on for some tension relief and you could still feel his muscles flex even beneath your hands.

“What a good fuckin’ girl, taking my cock like this.” Jonah’s voice was a low growl as he thrusts into you, the slaps of your skin interacting between each thrust was like a sinful symphony. “So fucking tight.”

The smell of the cologne he wore danced in your brain as he worked up a sweat absolutely pummeling himself into your sex. You grasped onto him as if your life depended on it, moaning into his neck as his cock slid in and out of you. You didn’t even know how much time was passing as he rutted himself into you relentlessly

“Just cum already, you know you want to babygirl,” he muttered to you through his clenched teeth, groans of his own escaping every now and then. You took your opportunity and let your pleasure go for the second time, your orgasm taking over as your back arched even more, your toes curling as you moaned out in pleasure.

He came soon after, relentlessly pounding into you throughout his own orgasm, his thick warm seed coating the inside of your walls, the sensation making you shiver as your nipples started to stiffen up even more. He stayed inside you for a few more seconds before he pulled out, the cum sliding out and onto your inner thighs. He stared as it drizzled out for a few more moments before he gave a smirk, glancing back up to your breathless form and his expression softened right away.

“Guess it’s time for a good bath now, love,” he said as his hands reached behind you to grab some paper towels to clean up the mess between your thighs. You tiredly rested your head on his shoulder once he’s done and the paper towels were discarded into the bin.

“I can’t feel my legs anymore though,” you complained, arms already around his neck, hoping that he’d get your hint, which he did.

“Fine, I’ll carry you,” he said with a laugh, hands sliding down your spine to grip your thighs firmly and you wrapped your legs around his waist before he hoisted you off the counter and started walking towards your bedroom. “You always turn into a baby after sex. How cute.”

“I’m your baby so of course I am,” you nuzzled into the crook of his neck.

“My pretty little baby girl, hmm?” The way his voice dipped a tone when he pronounced those words near your ear made your heartbeat drop to your southern region instantly and you felt your pussy gradually turning wet. Again.

He chuckled, a sign that he felt the changes in your body too, earning a smack on his back from you. “Shut up. It’s your fault.”

“Good thing the bathtub is big enough for two then.”

taglist: @chilling-seavey @neralondon @mia-marais @randomlimelightxxx @hopinglimelight @kvd963 @cutiebandlover202 @savspersonalproperty @slowdownatthelotusinn @angelzacharyy @freakshows199 @my-fangirling-outlet

#wdw #why dont we #corbyn besson #daniel seavey #jack avery #jonah marais #why don’t we #zach herron #wdw imagines #jonah marais imagines #jonah marais x reader #jonah marais smut

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crown-anon · 4 years

Text

@hearts1ck my beloved

November 1st

CW: explicit; more CWs under the cut

format: one-shot

people: GeorgeNotFound

pronouns: he/him; reader has male anatomy; more specifics under the cut

edited 14 March 2021

anonymous asked

consider. okay. CONSIDER. consider masochist george. okay?? okay. okay LISTEN.

I think I have a problem with gimmicks also. because. because. ever since strawberry milk george, I. I have not stopped thinking about strawberry flavored lube. because! listen okay hear me out.

(this is absolutely 110% a response to discovering that you share a birthday with him. what of it?)

I know everyone likes pillow princess george and. that's okay. that's FINE. these are not mutually exclusive.

george looking up at you with The LookTM wearing some pink strawberry milk lingerie. not even lingerie really! just something cute like that

& him being like. "I know you love me 👉👈 but I need you to fuck me like you don't"

so I was. thinking. that brat george is the exact kind of person to say (playfully & consensually) "but I don't wanna give you head, I just wanna fuck >:(" after you've got him worked up, maybe from teasing him throughout the day, or edging him a little. but you still need some type of lube. so you go to apply the first bottle you see and he's pink when he asks you "😳 is that ... strawberry ... ?" and you're confused like ??? bro you just asked me to fuck you into next week why're you interested in the flavored lube

but. but listen. he would get so enthusiastic about it. at first it's just "maybe I can stand to eat them out just a little bit before ..." and then after you come the first time it devolves really, really quickly into the need to just. take care of you. and it stretches on until you've come three or four times, and you're still shaking, and he's just. completely gone in subspace

hmm ... george climbing up onto your lap when he's done with you, going in to give you a kiss, and he tastes like strawberry. and he ends up moaning right into your mouth because he's been so horny but so? understimulated?? that he outright jumps as soon as his dick grazes your thigh. it would only take a couple stuttery grinds before he's finishing on both of your stomachs

and he's just so cute when comes, or when he bites down on your shoulder to keep himself quiet. and it's your birthdays. so, you decide you'll give him a reason to cry. and he'll finally get put in his place! it's a win-win for both of you!!

istg every time I send you an ask I discover something new about myself. you. you have made a dreamteam simp out of me. I am but a shell of the man I once was. I think I should thank you? [👑]

hearts1ck

i say this nearly every time you send stuff in but...... by god you own my soul. all of it. this – i – first of all, the implications of masochist george losing his fucking mind when you’re rough with him? guhhhfjklgjgf. and ,..d,,f,,, ,, ,, george in pink lingerie. i. i . a... pink satin slip maybe or .... ohghfd; oh my god those. that cat panty/bra set. im ascending im losing my brain as i type this i cannot –

okay im back on earth. he’d get into that rhythm and settle like liquid while he gets to work on you, and his subspace face is so self-satisfied and nearly smug so he’s just having the time of his life,,, and he makes such a loud noise when his dick twitches against your thigh and maybe... JUST MAYBE he whimpers extra watery when you drag his hips to grind against where you’re wet and dripping/your spent cock as if he’s the one who’d get overstimulated by it. when he finally leans away, eyelids heavy, you gently fit your hand over his jaw and ask, “did you even ask? it’s one thing to come without permission, but not even caring to ask? georgie, i might just be offended,” and he whines “green”s against your neck before you even check-in

and because u made it abt both of our birthdays ,,,, spanks for each year we’ve been alive methinks ??? and then the scratch down his ass gets him hard again and he’s so embarrassed by it, ,,, , ,, ,, ,, ,, ,

also thank god you’ve joined the george boat. i’m so proud of myself for hopefully being part of the reason you got dragged over here HJFKDHSKD

#👑 anon #(my beloved) #keep #anon thoughts: george #redsick #SHAWTY WANT THE WHOLE CREW SHAWTY BAD

as soon as you said birthday spanks I decided I had to write more about this. and I was going to leave more snippets in your askbox like the fucking gremlin creature I am, but then my thoughts started. actually having structure? and then I started writing it. and I tried to do homework and write on study breaks only but. I just kept coming back to this. this is the polar opposite of writer's block. I think I'm cursed or something. so here I am rushing to finish this so that I may rest in peace!!

yes I've been writing nonstop since I sent you that ask. what of it. what the fuck of it.

when I said I discover something new about myself every time we interact, I. I'm serious. I think I might be insane or something. I'm way too sadistic. you'll see. what the fuck is this? what the fuck did I just write??

this would have done so much critical psychic damage if I had posted it on November 1st in real life, but mental illness says I can't let my horny thoughts rattle around in my brain for that long. so!! it's you guys's problem now xoxoxo

I'm not fucking proofreading this. love you though 💗

I did end up proofreading actually. oops! looks like posting at 23:00 isn't always a good idea.

November 1st

CW: explicit, anal (kind of vague), bondage (collar + leash), corruption, domspace (I think??), edging, handjob, humiliation, masochism, oral, praise, sadism, spanking, subspace, swearing. I call George a whore and a slut at least once. and also, George calls yellow at one point. this one kind of surprised me so just. Be Careful. I cannot believe I wrote this. I don't know where this came from.

format: one-shot

people: GeorgeNotFound

pronouns: he/him; I use the word "sir;" reader has male anatomy; I use the words "cock," "dick," and "head;" reader can ejaculate

—

dawn shines through drawn curtains, illuminating the tile floor and your robed figure reflecting off it. batter sizzles in the skillet as you flip the last pancake over. this side looks golden brown, like honeycomb or caramelized sugar. that delicious, freshly-baked fragrance mingles with scented candles. it's perfect, you smile. he's going to love it.

you lift the pancake with a spatula, stacking it on top of the others on his plate. you bring it to his seat at the table, along with the butter, the syrup, the honey, the jam…and you go to pour him a drink.

"hey baby," you greet warmly to the sleepyhead rubbing his eyes in the entryway, still clinging to a pillow. his hair's a mess, only wearing socks and a sweatshirt that reaches down past his thighs. you reckon he'd only just crawled out of bed.

"morning…" he yawns, stumbling past you to take his seat.

"milk?" you ask, he only nods. "did you sleep okay?"

he hums affirmatively. "I…can we…"

one track mind, you joke inwardly. but you don't blame him. "of course," you open the fridge.

you hear him pause. "…is it too early for that?"

"no, no!" you give him a lighthearted laugh. "I kind of expected it, to be honest…I want it, too."

he's silent under the noise of you rummaging through the fridge. "I—"

"sorry—it looks like all we have is strawberry milk. is that alright?"

"yeah…yeah, that's alright. I…actually…wanted to try something new." you shut the fridge, he's fidgeting in his seat.

"hit me with it," your expression is gentle. you pass his cup off to him, but he holds his hand over yours a little too long, looking up at you.

"fuck me like you hate me."

you don't know if it's hearing him swear, or the way he said it so calmly, or how he closed his eyes and swallowed hard before his tone could dip down into something lower. but like a match in an torrent of gasoline, suddenly you're burning up.

you only realize you're staring when he bites his lip and looks down. you start to say something, but the words don't form.

he laughs nonthreateningly, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. "is that a yes?"

you laugh with him. "I…yes, absolutely yes." you turn back around to make your own stack of pancakes. "you should eat first, though."

"what?" he teases. "will I need the energy?"

you smile. "yeah. I think you will." you can practically feel him open his mouth in protest, but he stays silent after that.

and it stays mostly silent while you cook your pancakes. you hear the clinking of his fork on his plate, but it isn't very disruptive. it sounds like he's hurrying to finish his food.

when you go back to the table with your own platter, he's already done eating. he's red down to his neck, fidgeting with the hem of his sweatshirt, looking at you expectantly. you spot a pair of tassels peeking out from under it, just below his hip bones. is that…

he pulls the hem up just a bit, holding your gaze. he smiles, apparently satisfied watching your face heat up.

"I—you should go…go get ready," you manage. he gets up before you even finish your sentence, only stopping to give you a quick kiss on the cheek.

except it isn't quick, when he slides his hand down to rest firmly on your collar, and leans in to trail kisses down your neck. "a-and leave that on," you stutter.

he pauses, just under your jaw. "leave what on?" he murmurs.

your breath catches, you shut your eyes. "whatever the fuck it is you're wearing under there."

he's hardly grazing your skin, but you can feel how hot he is next to you. it takes all of your willpower not to shiver.

he pulls back quickly, only his hand lingering. "I don't know what you're talking about." and just like that, he disappears into your bedroom.

you reach up a hand tentatively to your collar, hot to the touch. I'm in way too deep, you decide, and force yourself to take a bite of your food despite your nerves.

—

"that," you hiss. "that fucking outfit. that."

"oh, this?" he bites his lip, hooking his thumb in the keyhole. "this's just what I went to bed in last night."

"fuck you. we both know that isn't true."

he tugs gently on his top, pulling it a little to the side. "what's the big deal? can't I wear something special for my birthday?"

"it's special, all right," and you leave it at that, opting instead to slot between his legs where he sits waiting on the edge of the bed. you bring up a hand to cup his jaw, brushing your thumb across his cheek. you'll never get enough of the way he looks at you, like you're intoxicating.

…? you frown.

"is something…missing?" he perks up instantly at "missing."

"what…?" he chooses his words carefully.

"the collar—your collar. where is it?" you turn away to start going through your bedside table, but the way his lips quirk up into a sly smile isn't lost on you.

that's lube…that's a vibrator…where the fuck is it…? "w-what collar?" he stumbles over his words.

your mind jumps to say, the collar that came with that outfit, or I know you know what I'm talking about, but you won't give him the satisfaction. you decide to speak a little darker, only a firm "George." you hear him swallow.

"w-well," his voice is shaky, "you only told me to leave on whatever I was wearing under my shirt. and…I wasn't wearing that collar at breakfast…s-so technically…"

you stop looking immediately. you turn to take him in, legs crossed, stance confident, but expression showing uncertainty. you can see the regret on his face. "get up." he takes a shallow breath. "get up."

"I'm—"

"don't I'm sorry me," you snap. "you look for your fucking collar on your own."

he slips off the bed, looking ashamed, but starts digging through the drawer all the same. "I really am sorry," he murmurs. you take his place sitting on the bed. he finds what he's looking for rather quickly: a simple white leather collar with a bell, and a leash. he hands them off to you shyly. "um, here…"

"good boy," you praise. "kneel."

he shuts his eyes and does as he's told. you can see the bliss wash over his face just at being ordered around. his lips part a little as he lets out a heavy breath. if only I knew what this would do to him, you muse, I'd have done this ages ago.

you fasten the collar, revelling in how he shivers at the gentle sensation of cold leather hanging around his neck. you leave it a little bit loose, but still comfortable, and hook the leash in its place. he sits obediently still on his knees, looking deep in thought.

"Oh, I know what I'm gonna do to you," you bait. "how old are you today?"

"mmm. twenty-five." he looks down.

you smile, holding tight onto the leash. "I'm gonna edge you. twenty-five times."

he flinches away immediately, yet hums in pleasant surprise when the leash snaps taught. the bell jingles stiffly. "no way. that's way too much."

"I think you should've thought about that before you wore that to breakfast," you decide, tugging a little. he's caught off-guard and stumbles forward, stopping himself by leaving a clumsy pair of kisses on the inside of your thigh. the metal and leather feel refreshingly cool against your feverish skin. "we've got all day, baby."

you expect to hear some kind of protest, you're crazy. or a playful taunt, I'm better off doing this by myself. but he knits his brows and openly moans at the thought. "all day…" he repeats.

he looks up at you, almost pleading, and you can hear the resignation in his voice when he whispers "alright."

"get up here," you command. "on top of me." as he climbs up into your lap, a little too eagerly, you add, "and take your dick out."

you shrug your robe off your shoulders while he's working on his panties, and without thinking, you ask, "color?"

he stops, leaving his head poking cutely over the waistband. he looks up at you again. "…what?"

"um…color," you explain. "like, how are you doing? is this okay? I don't actually want to hurt you. uhhh…green means good, yellow means slow down, and red means stop."

he stifles a laugh. "you're such a nerd. I'm okay."

"alright." you blush a little. "we can stop whenever you need to. this is for you…" you think of something horribly unsexy to say. "…birthday boy."

now he's really laughing, with his whole body. you think the way it makes his collar jingle is cute. "oh my god. shut up. just shut up," his expression turns serious, and he drops to a whisper, "and fuck me."

that got you hot again. you pull him by the leash into a kiss, you bite his lip, you eat him up. and you grab the both of you together with your other hand, you moan in tandem. you can feel how you took him by surprise in the way he twitches under your thumb, the way he leans into you with his whole body. you part from the kiss and he leans back on his heels, panting hard, holding on to your shoulders for support. you can feel him shaking a little.

when you move your hand all the way up the first time, you squeeze both of your heads gently, and he practically falls into you. muffled in the crook of your neck, he begs, "god, do that again."

so you do. again. and again. what was a string of stuttered breaths turns into a single broken moan as you jerk the both of you off. when you think you're getting close, you let go of yourself to focus all your attention on him.

"fuck, sir," he whines—hahaha, that sir made your cock leak a little. he shut his eyes tight. "I-I-I think—I think I'm—"

just like that, you stop, and he goes slack, practically laying on you. but he doesn't grind back, or even move to touch himself. that won't last very long.

you let him come back down, knowing edging takes a lot out of you; maybe even more so than actually coming does. slowly but surely, his breathing steadies. you rub between his shoulderblades affectionately, still trying to ground yourself, too.

once you've found your voice again, you question, "are you gonna count for me?"

he makes a sound against your skin, somewhere between excitement and fear. "…o-one." you revel in how fucked-out he sounds already.

"one what?" you prod.

he seems at a loss, like he's forgotten himself, what he said. after a minute or two of pondering, he catches on. "…sir."

it's your turn to moan. your dick jumps at the honorific, still mostly untouched against your stomach. "good boy." and you dive back in. twenty-four to go.

—

it's noon. you're working on nineteen. and your partner's getting much more…expressive. he's started biting his hand to keep himself quiet, but he's still…

"I-I—oh fuck, I'm—fuck, I-I'm—I'm—" he whimpers through his teeth. and he yelps, whole body shaking, bell jingling incessantly, when he comes all over your hand and stomach.

you take your hand off him immediately, and this time he does try to reach down, ride through it, but you grab both his wrists to stop him. he grinds down uselessly against your thigh and your dick. although you're still hard, and only a hairline trigger away from coming yourself, it doesn't stop you from keeping this brat in line. you only bite your lip and close your eyes.

he leans his forehead against yours, moving in to give you a kiss, but you push him away.

"did you never learn how to fucking count?" you growl.

he winces. "I-I-I-I'm…I'm sorry—"

you scowl at your hand, covered in come. "here, slut," you raise it up to his lips. "clean this off for me."

he tears up a little, but takes your fingers into his mouth all the same. pretty quickly, though, he spits them back out.

"it doesn't taste good…" he complains.

"oh? oh, it doesn't?" you mock. "but it felt good, when you came without my permission, like a cheap fucking whore."

a couple of tears spill over, roll down his cheeks, yet he says nothing, only moving back in to lap his come off your hand. you can see it in his expression that he's not very happy about it, but he doesn't protest further.

"is this good enough, sir?" he asks, when it seems that he's gotten it all. it looks clean enough, you agree. you grab him by the chin, hooking your thumb in his mouth. you don't even have to tell him to suck.

"you come without my approval again, and it's over. you can go back to playing minecraft—or what-the-fuck-ever—with your friends for your birthday. do you want to sleep on the couch, Georgie?"

if he wasn't crying before, he's definitely crying now. he doesn't shake his head, but he circles your fingertip with his tongue enthusiastically, as if to say, I'll be good, I'll be good this time, looking up at you doe-eyed.

"bend over for me," you demand. "across my lap."

he does so immediately. he slips a little bit while he's changing positions, you hear the bell ring, and he scrambles to correct himself. he settles with his ankles crossed and his head in his hands, propping himself up on his elbows. you feel a little bad, you admit, but you won't budge; he has a safeword, you trust that he'll use it.

"let's try that again," your tone softens. "I want you to count for me, okay?"

he nods.

you pull his panties to the side, pause briefly, and bring down your hand with a satisfying smack.

"ohhhhhh—" he moans, jolting a little. "—holy shit, did you just spank me?"

your stomach drops, you go to rub him gently where you just hit him. "is that okay—?"

"it's hot, it's so hot, fuck," he shifts in your lap. "um, sorry…one."

seriously, something about hearing him swear awakens something in you, every time. you're fired up. you spank him again.

"mmm—two…" is he…? "three…"

you pause to massage his ass again, and to speak. "you're…you're hard again, aren't you?"

you didn't even spank him yet, but he lets out a moan. "fuck, I—I just. I want you. I want this. so, so much."

you wonder if this is actually the same George who was fidgeting with his pillow in the dining room this morning.

"you're so bad, getting turned on by something like this," you tease. he only moans in response.

"four—five—six—seven…" he chokes out. "it's starting to sting…"

you take a break, kneading the skin where your angry red handprint is starting to take shape.

"eight…nine…but god, it hurts so good…" he wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. "ten…"

at ten, you linger for a moment, holding a handful of his ass. "does it?"

"yes—yesyesyes," he buries his face in the pillow, and shivers. "fuck, eleven…twelve…"

you pull his panties down to his knees, and switch sides. he lifts his hips up, so I can reach him better, you guess. you don't miss the telltale glint of a butt plug, but you'll get to that later.

"thirteen—fourteen—fifteen—sixteen," he moans between slaps. he's gripping the pillowcase so hard his knuckles are white.

in this new position, the way he jumps with every hit makes his cock brush against yours just right. fuck, you're still hard from earlier. this time you're the one who whimpers.

"seventeen, eighteen," he pauses, breathless. you pull gently on his leash, he arches his back and moans, "n-nineteen." his bell jingles.

he grinds down, just for a moment, and the friction is delicious. you're a little dizzy, you think you might've thrust back. you both sigh at the feeling.

"…t-twenty…see? I-I can count…I'm a good boy…I'm good for you…aren't I?"

"you are," you murmur, but you aren't sure he hears you. "you're so good…"

"twenty-one—twenty-two…I-I feel like I haven't done anything right today…twenty-three…"

"…George…?" you hear a muffled sob.

"twenty-four…" he mumbles.

"George?" you start to get concerned. he just keeps crying. "hey…" you whisper. you gently prompt him to turn him over; the pillow's a little wet. you pull the panties off all the way, and get him out of the bra, which had a little stray come on it. you help him sit up in your lap, and pull him into a hug.

"am I really just a whore…?" he asks brokenly.

"you've been so good for me, baby. you've done everything I've asked." you wipe his tears away with your thumb. "are you okay?"

"but I—" he coughs. "—I came too soon, I came without your permission…"

you kiss his hair, and hold him to your chest. "you've been so patient. I'm proud of you."

he finally wraps his arms around you. "I-I'm sorry."

"nonsense," you reassure. "your comfort takes priority. are you okay? color?"

"I…" he searches for the words. "I dunno. yellow? I…that hurt, I think. being…degraded?"

you comb through his hair with your fingers. "I understand. thank you for telling me. I love you."

—

you stay like that for a minute. you grab him a snack and a drink, but for the most part, you just enjoy each other's company, tangled-up together. you don't bother putting your clothes back on.

it's later in the evening. you're straddling him, peppering his shoulders with kisses, and he's giggling underneath you. he turns over to give you a short and sweet kiss.

"baby?" he says, looking expectantly.

"what is it?" you sit back on your heels.

he hesitates. "…I wanna keep going. from earlier."

you're serious again. "are you sure you're okay?" you grab his hand, bringing it up to kiss his fingertips. "I don't want to hurt you."

"I'm alright," he assures. "I remember you promising me an all-day thing, though."

you blush, a little surprised by his forwardness. "of course. I think…I…" you laugh. "I wanna fuck you."

"yeah?" he smiles, leaning up close. "show me how much."

you hold his jaw while you kiss him, biting his bottom lip between your teeth. he tastes like the coffee and cream you made him earlier. you feel his breath hitch. he reaches up to hold your shoulders.

you pull back. "hey, blow me first."

"what? why?" he giggled.

"it's been a couple hours, I'm not hard anymore," you coax. "I thought you liked taking orders?"

he cringed. "but come tastes gross!"

you slid off him and hopped off the bed, opening the drawer. "suit yourself. you get to watch me jack off, then."

"fine by me, I think you look good when you masturbate."

"ohhh, I forget, you're too blissed-out to pay attention to how I look when you're getting fucking owned."

"I am not!"

"you are too!" he sticks his tongue out at you.

you open the lid, pouring a little on your hand, a little on your cock. it's translucent pink, seems a little fragrant. you give yourself a couple of strokes with a sigh.

he's quiet for a second, then, shyly, "um…is that…strawberry flavored…?"

you bite your lip. "I thought you weren't gonna give me head?"

"I was just curious." it's a weak lie, but you say nothing.

your eyes are shut, but you can feel him moving around a bit on the bed, you hear his bell ring a couple times. you feel a hand on your thigh, so you decide to peek. and holy shit.

your partner's made his way to the floor, on his knees between your legs, holding his leash in his mouth, his fucking mouth, what the fuck. his thumb's rubbing circles on the inside of your thigh. the half-lidded look he's giving you should be criminal.

"you—I thought you said you wouldn't…" you can't find the words. you reach out and take the leash from his mouth. you see your hand shake in front of you.

"I'm just watching…" he whispers, looking up at you, mesmerized.

you're only able to get a couple of pumps in before he's joining you, hand over yours as you get yourself off. just the extra sensation of somebody else's touch is enough to make you bite back a moan.

"fuck—!" you jolt when he licks a stripe up the underside. he mouths over the head, jerking you off on his own now. you move to grip the sheets in one hand, his leash in the other. and you come without warning. you see it end up on his hand and your stomach before you shut your eyes tight.

he's quiet while you're coming down, just helping you ride it out, giving you kisses on your thighs. when you look back down at him, he's got two of his fingertips in his mouth, licking them clean. he stands up abruptly, it startles you a little. you see his bell ring. and he grabs you by the hips and leans down to your midriff.

"…I don't think I cleaned you off all the way earlier…" he breathes, and he starts to lap up the mess of his and your come that's been on you since this afternoon.

what the fuck. why is this so hot? why is he so hot? all too soon, your spent cock twitches in interest at your lover. he cups it with a hand, smiling against your tummy. you're so sensitive it hurts. you think you mean to say something, but nothing comes out.

"hmm…?" he bites his lip. "you still want some more?" all you can do is whine. at this point, you don't know if it's in protest or invitation.

you don't get the chance to find out either, because fuck, he's really going down on you now. you don't know what the fuck he's doing with his tongue, or where his gag reflex went, but at this rate you're gonna come again.

"George—George, baby, I—slow down, I-I'm—" you plead. his leash slips out of your hand, you tip your head back.

he swallows.

—

the last thing you remember is coming harder than you ever have in your life. you think you held him by his hair. you might've fucked his mouth a little. he's never let you come in his mouth before…fuck…

it's nighttime now. he's riding your thigh, got one of his legs slotted between yours. the friction between his knee and your overstimulated cock feels embarrassingly good. you're so dizzy, all you can articulate is a loud moan. you don't sound at all like you remember. his bell keeps ringing and ringing and ringing as he grinds against you.

he leans down, one arm holding your hip, the other keeping himself propped up. he bites your shoulder, hard, hard enough to bruise. he comes on both of your stomachs.

"George," you beg. you're losing your voice.

"mmmmmmsir," he slurs. "fuck me."

"George, I…" you don't know what you're saying. the end of your sentence turns into a whimper.

"you need me to get you hard again? you need me to rile you up?" he turns to kiss your jaw, feeling around for your dick. "like this?"

"George," you sound urgent, until he squeezes right around the head, and you forget what you were saying. you're pretty fucking close to forgetting who you are entirely.

he sits up on top of you, grinning. "love the way you say my name, sir."

that name. all it takes is the way he says that fucking name and you're ready to go again. you flip the two of you over, so that you're towering over him instead. "you still didn't. fucking. ask me. if you could come."

he giggles, a little crazed. he hooks his arms around his knees, hugging them to his chest.. "so what? so what? you gonna fuck me 'till I behave?"

"yes," you reach down, "I think I will." and you pull out the butt plug he (probably forgot he) had in all day.

"fuck—" he sobs. you watch his dick bob. precome drips into a pool on his stomach. "—green—green—so fucking green."

you're still sensitive from coming twice—you're pretty sure he is too. you lean down to give him a kiss, you moan into each other's mouths. he tastes like strawberries and his and your come. it is a little gross, you admit. but he's so tight and so fucking cute that you can't bring yourself to care. you part, and there's a line of salvia connecting the two of you.

"wait—" you say, but it comes out like a growl. "roll over."

he gets on his hands and knees, reaching back and spreading himself open for you. fuck.

you fuck him like that, holding the leash tight, loving the way he arches his back into the bed. the bell on his collar jingles incessantly.

you spank him, one last time.

"th-that's twenty-f-five—oh, fuck, sir," he growls, clinging on to the blankets for dear life.

you pin one of his hands in place and reach down to touch him. he starts laughing again.

"mmmmmmay I please come, sir? I—fuck—I'm so close, soclosesoclose," his breath stutters, you can hear the breaks in his voice. he buries his face in the blankets.

I'm close, you think, but the words don't make it out. "you're so good—you're so fucking good—come for me—fuck, come for me."

—

you're a mess. there's some drying solution of come and lube on your stomach. not to mention whatever the fuck's going on with your hair. your robe is discarded haphazardly on the floor. you think you've got a hickey, but you can't remember where.

actually, you're both a mess. he's also covered in come, sweat, and lube. he's got a red ring around his neck where you pulled him by the leash a little too hard. he's just covered in bruises. he clings to your arm, still fast asleep. you both passed out pretty quickly after…whatever that was, but you got back up a couple hours later. it doesn't look like he did, though.

actually, your whole bedroom is a mess. a blanket or two ended up discarded on the floor. there's an empty bottle of edible lube somewhere around here. your kitty lingerie set, still dirty, somehow ended up hanging in the closet. the first time you woke up you were both cuddling with a butt plug that you misplaced in the heat of the moment.

you don't think you've ever seen him like that. you can't even put it into words. you've never spanked him. he's never called you sir. you've never come in his mouth. he's never…begged for you like that before. you've never been so exhausted after coming that you both just, just fainted.

you feel lightheaded, and dead tired. you know you both must have gotten back up and gone at it at least a couple more times, but it's blurry, you can't remember. all you know is your vibrator's missing, and you feel…unusually empty, like you do the morning-after getting railed a little too hard.

last night…what the fuck happened last night?

you contemplate getting up, slipping your arm out of his embrace, pulling the covers back up around him, leaving to make breakfast. you're kind of disgusting, several hours after sex without cleaning up properly. you want to get yourselves some washcloths, maybe take shower together, or run him a bath. you know he's gotta be way more sore than you are.

you catch yourself staring, lost in thought; he just looks too cute when he's very clearly roughed up, but still sleeping soundly. and with the way he wanted…the way he needed you yesterday, you don't think he would want to wake up alone.

maybe it's okay if we sleep in a little longer.

you stroke his hair and whisper, "happy birthday, baby boy."

—

edited 14 March 2021

#limeade-zest #georgenotfound x reader #george x reader #george davidson x reader

109 notes · View notes

honey-makki · 4 years

Text

grandma’s blessing

best friend!hanamaki takahiro x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of death (family member), oral (fem receiving), fire, probably unsanitary cooking conditions if i’m being honest (it’s soft i swear)

summary: the holidays are your favorite time of year. your best friend hanamaki tries to keep holiday cheer alive despite the loss of a family member.

word count 2.4k

masterlist

Holiday’s are tricky. Decisions on whether the trauma of going home will be a heavier burden to bear than the guilt and loneliness of your city apartment. GOing home was never a pleasant experience. Trips filled with parents nitpicking your seemingly successful life and emotionally battering you about anything and everything they could. The only reprieve would be hugging your grandmother and being able to see her face-to-face during dinner. She understood why you didn’t come home every opportunity and didn’t blame you a bit.

On years when it would be too much to travel, you knew that she would still give you a call. Spending all day on the phone with you while you bounced around the kitchen making much smaller portions of what they would be eating at home. Even the small amounts of silence on the call were comfortable. You could feel her next to you kneading the dough for a pie while you mixed together the fruit base. It felt like home.

The silence that has been living in your apartment the past few months after her passing was suffocating. Weekends spent with friends at their apartment just to get out of somewhere that just seems to reek of death and despair.

You had spent more nights at Makki’s place in the past month than at your own. He was your closest friend, a true confidant, someone skilled at lifting your mood, and the person you’ve been undeniably in love with for years. You accepted the fate of growing old with a horde of cats as long as you can have his silly pink hair shining in the sun when you hung out with friends. It’s ok that you are going to be alone forever as long as you still had a standing laser tag date once a month. The only thing stronger than your feelings of love towards the strawberry blond was fear of losing him.

He has been a pillar of strength during the past few months. Holding your crying body until you fall asleep on his tear-stained and snot covered chest. Setting alarms in your phone to make sure you are eating or going to work instead of sitting in a dissociative state. Ever since you shared a bed with him, he’s been a little more comfortable with physical contact. Walking closer together arms touching when going out or throwing an arm over your shoulder when lounging around the house. You can’t count the number of times you’ve both woken up in various stages of cuddling.

He was the one to bring up spending the holidays together. He had just gone home for a wedding and couldn’t afford another ticket and he knew that you were in a weird spot. “We can stay here and make dinner and bake cookies and watch shitty r-romcoms? Someone has to appreciate Hallmark movies, why not us?” You can hear his voice crack and start to speed up as a blush rises across his face. You see it but don’t really process it, more relieved that for the first time in months, the thought of holidays didn’t make you run to the bathroom and throw up. You smiled and nodded, setting plans for him to come over later in the week.

Makki always liked when you cooked, throwing a western spin on dishes he considered normal. But today, he was flabbergasted, you didn’t let him just sit on the barstool curating music while you did all the work, no, there was too much food to be made for him to laze around. You laid out the recipe for your grandmothers’ mac n’ cheese, explaining what everything meant while you got started on an asian fusion stuffing you figured out a few years back.

You stole glances at him in the middle of stirring, combining and folding everything together. His tongue sticks out between his lips while he deliberately measures out the exact amount of cheese required. In all the time you’ve seen him, you’ve never seen him totally lose his laid back air until now, and you can’t control your laugh. Is he really more serious about measuring out sharp cheddar cheese than a game that would take them to nationals? Or that physics final he actually studied for? Your heart skips a beat when you see his soft, satisfied smile to the dish he just created. All you can picture when he looks over to you is how cute of a child he must have been. Cheeks round encasing his bright smile as his head tilts ever so slightly to the left.

After he slides the last dish into the oven, you both opt for taking the time to clean the kitchen, knowing that you won’t want to do it after dinner. The dishes are washed and dried and while Makki puts away the ones that go on a higher shelf, you return flour and other ingredients to the pantry but before you put them down you call out to him, voice lighter than normal, the one you use when asking a favor.

“Taka, how upset would you be if I said I wanted to cook a little bit more?”

“You get dishes this time around then, but what are we makin’?”

You turn out of the pantry with a bounce in your step before slapping down the flour and newly acquired, chocolate chips and sprinkles. “Cookies! We always made cookies with my grandma and it wouldn’t be the same without them.” Your eyes sparkle at the thought of the sweet treats and equally sweet memories of your childhood. Makki thinks you are breathtaking.

“Let me get the bowls back down and we can probably make mediocre cookies if you have anything you do with it.” He smiles at just how cute the squawk you made from his teasing is, just happy that he gets to be here with you. He doesn’t really hear how you defend your baking skills and complain that just because you forgot flour one time doesn’t mean you are inept at baking.

He never thought he would be the type to settle down and be domestic, it just didn’t seem like something he cared a lot about, but now he he can’t rid his mind of the thought of waking up ten minutes before your alarm just to make you a cup of coffee or throwing your favorite blanket in the drier on days it’s raining so when you get home, you can melt into the soft plush and warm up instantly.The clattering of spices brings him back to the moment, turning to see you picking up the cinnamon and vanilla extract.

“You good, love?” There’s something about how you look when you flustered because of him, that scratches an itch he didn’t know was there. The first time a pet name like this had slipped through his lips he was certain that whatever line the two of you were toeing had been crossed, demolished. Instead you just tucked your hair away and averted your gaze back to whatever shitty movie the two of you were “watching” that night. Now it’s normal, well its not normal, its very much not normal for him to refer to you as love or babe and it's not normal for you to exclusivley call him by his first name. It's decidedly abnormal considering your relationship or lack thereof. But if you aren’t going to question it neither is he.

He helps you up and gather the remaining ingredients for the “famous snickerdoodle cookies” that you swear had won awards. The mixing of the dough is interrupted when he has to grab your wrist to stop you from adding salt instead of sugar. You refuse to look at him because you know he is sporting a huge smirk and raised eyebrows, knowing that he’s right about you not being the best baker. You are reprieved by the oven going off, signaling to remove the earlier and change the temperature.

“Damn, babe, these cookies look so good, especially this one.” You return to Makki who already started to lay out the dough on the baking tray. You see perfectly round blobs squished slightly by a fork for a pattern and then right in front of him you see the cookie he was talking about. You didn't expect to see your 27 year old boyfriend-who-isn’t-your-boyfriend to be holding a cockshaoped cookie. But really, you should have seen it coming from the guy who laughs when either of you fart.

He can hear the clock ticking as you just stare, annoyed. He was concerned for a second, that maybe he shouldn’t have made a lewd joke when making cookies. This is something he used to do with her grandmother, you stupid idiot.. But when he can see the apple of your cheek peeking out from behind your hand, he recognizes that face. The one that positively exudes warmth and happiness with her laughter. The butterflies always buzzing in his stomach go wild when this face comes out. He would do anything to see it for the rest of time.

You don’t know where the courage comes from but you cup his cheek for a kiss, he mirrors your action. It just felt normal, and you honestly didn’t realize that it wasn’t normal until you both pulled back. Your eyes are locked on his, both of you sporting a soft smile until his keeps growing, evolving into a laugh that is borderline offensive in how loud it is.

You don’t know why and you get a little nervous that maybe he doesn’t feel the same way, when you go to hide your face, you feel the heat rising but also a soft powdery coating? And that’s when you realize his hands are still coated in flour from shaping the cookies. Your eyes are rolling while you chuckle but Makki on the other hand is losing his mind, almost in tears from laughing while putting the cookies in the oven. “It’s not that funny, Takahiro! Get me a napkin please.”

“Nah, you look really sweet. Good enough to eat.” You weren’t surprised when he returned to kissing you, nor when he lifted you up by your thighs and plopped you on the counter. The kisses are sweet, lazy and perfect for a second kiss, and a third and a fourth. This is normal. His lips belong on yours. Your hands should be tangled up in his hair while his run over your waist and legs. This is right. There's no rush to deepen the kiss, both of you happy to just indulge in the warmth of the other, but it is inevitable. A soft nip at your bottom lip or an accidental tug of his hair, neither of you know what happened first but you both are staring at each other, panting lightly with a much darker gaze than the original flour induced makeout session.

“You are just as sweet as I thought. Gotta have a taste.” His voice is raspier than you’ve ever heard and you just let him move your body as he pleases. Pull your hips to the edge of the counter. Spread your legs as far apart as they’ll go. Lift your hips when he pulls your shorts and underwear down. Gotta act as sweet as he says I am. He has barely touched you but when he falls to his knees and just stares at your dripping slit that he's imagined for years, your eyes, you are already imagining how good he's going to feel.

You shouldn’t even try to think, his tongue exceeded any expectation or desire you had. Expertly flicking against your throbbing clit as he works two fingers in you. You feel the groan he lets out when he dips his tongue into your hole before you hear it. The vibrations reverberate up your spine and through your body, an all-consuming heat starting in your stomach, threatening to let loose, to run rampant on your body. His fingers, joined by another, return to your clenching hole and search for the spongy spot hidden deep inside. All you can hear is the blood rushing through your head, drowning out every other noise.

“C’mon love, cum on my fingers, on my tongue, I’ve wanted, dreamed about this for years, give it to me.” His slow words juxtaposed the fervent pace of his fingers and it was enough to send you over the edge.

You feel so hot you fear you might pass out, the groan Makki lets out beneath you is the only thing keeping you grounded. You were first concerned that you had hurt him in someway, but when you see his eyes roll back into his head and his tongue trying to lap up every single bit of cum you squirted on his face and thighs, you know it wasn’t due to excruciating pain, rather it's just an obscene reaction to you.

When you push him back, squirming with overstimulation, you hear him scramble and “Shit! Fuck! Fire extinguisher?? WHERE IS YOUR FIRE EXTINGUISHER???” You are still out of it until he starts actually screaming, words still evade you but he follows your line of sight to the red tube hiding in the corner next to the fridge. The smell of smoke is overwhelming all of a sudden. You were in a dreamlike post orgasmic state and suddenly your coughing, eyes hazy.

the cookies, SHIT THE COOKIES!! Smoke is billowing out of the oven and your fire alarm is blaring, but soon the room is filled with a white foam originating from Makki. You never realized that the foam would continue to expand until half of your kitchen was covered in it and you saw a sheepish looking Makki on the other side.

“Fires out”. Again, he starts to laugh at you, and this time you join him. Today has turned out entirely different than you expected. It wasn’t a sad day, it was filled with laughter, romance, an ill timed fire and Makki. All in all, a successful holiday, despite the fact everything you cooked was coated in foam. He’d seen you staring at the food and already took his phone out to order food, “Indian or ramen?”

Yeah, you think you’re grandma would be happy seeing you like this. Happy Holidays.

a/n: i don’t really know what this is but the image of makki being a disaster in the kitchen came to me one day and here we are. make sure you read the other fics in the collab

matsukawa’s funeral home winter collab

a/n 2.0: also a/o to @iwaasfairy for making that makki image that i used in my header. i love her more than i love him which say a lot

#hanamaki takahiro #hanamaki drabble #hanamaki x y/n #hanamaki smut #haikyuu smut #makki smut #makki x reader #makki x you #hanamaki x reader #hanamaki.coffee #kristen.writes #oral.espresso

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honeybunny-sawamura · 4 years

Text

Love Thy Neighbor

Pairing: Iwaizumi Hajime x Fem! Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.8K

“No no nononono!” you rush to take out the thing that’s burning in your oven; almost forgetting to put on your mitts and nearly shoving your bare hand into the heat. They’re not on literal fire but you drop the whole baking pan into the sink and drown the charred contents in cold water. You sigh dejectedly at what’s supposed to be heart shaped cookies, but now they’re just scorched up black rocks. How does one mess up simple sugar cookies?? You hang your head in defeat and you have half the mind to dunk your head into the sink with the destroyed confection. They were supposed to be for friends; a nice thank you gift for all the things they’ve done for you and to celebrate Valentine’s Day boyfriend free. Well…

Three loud but quick knocks to your front door breaks you out of your thoughts and you straighten up to wonder who it is. A voice in the back of your mind scoffs since it should be obvious but when you answer the door, you’re surprised to see your neighbor, Iwaizumi Hajime, looking down at you with one eyebrow raised.

“Set your kitchen on fire, again?” he asks teasingly. While there’s amusement in his voice, you can hear the worry that’s laced underneath. You give him an embarrassed pout because one, yes you have set something in your kitchen ablaze before. And two, Iwaizumi is always there helping you fix up whatever disaster you’ve concocted. No matter what time of the day it was, after any failed attempt at cooking or baking that you’d tried to take on, he was there to help clean up and help you try again. It was like this from day one when you first moved into the apartment next to his and tried to cook your first meal with no cooking spray. Having him use the fire extinguisher on your brand-new cooking set was one way to make friends with your new neighbor.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckles when all he gets is your pout as an answer. He tilts his head at you as if to silently ask if it’s okay to come in and you sidestep to let him enter your apartment. The handsome athletic trainer has been in here so many times, he knows the way to your kitchen like he does his own.

“What is it this time?”

“…. Sugar cookies.”

“Cookies? That’s like, the easiest thing to make!” he replies over his shoulder before stepping in and seeing your sad attempt submerged in the sink. He makes a face that seems to be crossed with disgust and pity. You wring you hands on your apron and your cheeks heat up in slight shame.

“I was also trying to make chocolate pops so… I kinda forgot about the cookies baking,” you explain and motion to the kitchen table with chocolates, lollipop molds, and other stuff strewn about. Iwaizumi looks over and is quite impressed with how some of them are turning out. He even approaches the table to get a better look at them and can see why you had forgotten about the cookies; the heart shaped chocolate pops you had made so far look delicious and cute. He turns to you with a smile that makes you heart flutter in your chest.

“These look great! Making these for a special Valentine?” he inquires with a grin and if the red in your cheeks weren’t noticeable, they had to be now.

“I-I... They’re for friends!” you tell him half the truth because yeah, some of the chocolate pops are for your friends. But the others, especially the ones that come out as perfect as you like, are for the spikey haired man currently standing in your kitchen. Somewhere in between him helping you not set your kitchen on fire for the umpteenth time and the two of you having long and deep discussions while whisking eggs, boiling pasta, and dicing onions, you had fallen in love with Iwaizumi. You fell in love with how caring he was; checking on you whenever he smelt something burnt coming from your apartment or stopping you in the hallway to see how your week has gone. You fell in love with the way he laughs; nice and hearty, especially when you two fought over the flour and ended up getting it all over each other. You fell in love with his smile; the soft ones that he graces you when after the food has been cooked, served, and eaten, he stays over a bit longer to chat with you. The realization of your feelings for your next-door neighbor hit you like an incoming bus when he cancelled a cooking lesson with you for a date. At first, you didn’t understand why you were so upset: Iwaizumi is just your neighbor and he had every right to go out with whoever he pleases. But after talking it out with a friend while you sadly stirred a pathetic looking chicken noodle soup did she give you an epiphany,

“I think you’re in love with him…”

“Well, your friends are lucky to have something as nice as these for Valentine’s Day,” Iwaizumi breaks you out of your thoughts. You blink to see him pick up one of your chocolate pops and inspects them, noticing the tiny hungry glint in his eyes. You feel pride swell in you and you approach him with a little skip.

“Do you want one?” you ask him curiously. He turns to you with hopeful eyes and that makes you giggle; the stern athletic trainer can be so cute at times.

“Would you give me one? Or… Maybe two?” he requests. You hum in reply, pretending to mull it over in your head whether or not to give him some. You grin when he starts to pout and you make a bargain with him,

“How about you help me with the sugar cookies while I make more chocolate pops?”

“Deal!” he accepts almost immediately, and it makes you laugh. Iwaizumi grins at your laughter and you missed the way his cheeks pinken at the pretty sound. He grabs the apron that you have for him whenever he comes over to help you and starts by scrubbing away burnt up cookies from the baking pan. You watch him for a moment, heart content with having him near you, before going back to making the pops. The two of you chit chat as batter is mixed and chocolate is poured. Sometimes a joke or a tease gets tossed in the conversation along with giggles and chuckles. You and Iwaizumi maneuver around the kitchen as if in a dance; you sliding to his side to grab a bottle of spice or him placing a hand on the small of your back to warn you that he’s behind you to grab a utensil. The both of you don’t seem to realize all the small touches and spare glances that passes between the two of you, but this was such a weekly occurrence that has been happening for months now that it just felt natural.

After Iwaizumi gets a few batches of cookies baked and cooled and you have wrapped them along with the chocolate pops in cute little packages, your Valentine’s gifts are ready for tomorrow. You and he put them in the fridge, so they don’t melt except for one. You give it a nervous glance, wondering how to give it to him and if you should confess your feelings as well. In your head, you can hear some of your friends cheering and encouraging you to do so. You stall for time by cleaning up and of course, Iwaizumi helps you with that; not noticing the lone Valentine gift still on the table until,

“Is this one for me?” the handsome athletic trainer inquires once all the goodies are stored and the kitchen is spotless. You turn to see him holding up his own Valentine and your heart leaps in your throat. He’s smiling at you, eyes twinkling and an eager look set upon his face. You would have laughed and found it so sweet any other time, but right now... Your poor heart was trying not to beat itself out of your chest.

“Ummm… Yeah. It’s for you. Happy Valentine’s Day… Hajime…” you say softly. Iwaizumi’s grin widens and he’s about to thank you when he suddenly catches the tone of your voice and the fact you called him by his first name; it was always just Iwaizumi. He looks at you; eyes searching yours for something and hope filling his chest. There’s a reason why he keeps coming over and helping you whenever you mess up in the kitchen. While it took you a good couple of weeks to figure out your feelings, Iwaizumi was sure by the fifth cooking session together that he was in love with you. He fell in love with the way you were so eager to learn; taking in every tip he gives you and listening intently to his words. He fell in love with way you eyes lit up; whether it was from being able to do the recipe without a hiccup or at a joke he entertained you with. He fell in love with your smile; how it bloomed beautifully on your face whenever he saw you. He was so in love with you but scared that you didn’t feel the same way. Iwaizumi had hoped you were when he reluctantly told you he was being forced into a date by his friend and had to cancel a cooking session. He didn’t like how your face fell and how dejected and small you sounded when you told him it was okay; he could feel his own heart breaking.

“Y/N?” he calls out to you while taking a step closer to you. Hope is swirling in his eyes and you’re sure it’s the same with you. You take in a breath before saying,

“I… I’m in love with you Hajime… I… Please, be my V-Valentine?” you wince a bit when you find yourself stuttering, the blush on your cheeks darkening. The two of you stare at each other for a moment before you start to fidget when there is no answer. You are about to open your mouth to apologize or take it back or even both when Iwaizumi closes the distance between the two of you and pull you into a kiss. You let out a gasp but it gets swallowed when he slots his lips against yours. You let your eyes flutter close as you bask in his warmth and the wonderful feeling of his strong arms wrapping around your waist. You share your first kiss with Iwaizumi Hajime in the kitchen where the two of you fell in love and it makes both your hearts bloom with joy. When he pulls away from the kiss, he sighs happily and rests his head against yours. Both of you are smiling widely and a giggle pass between the two of you.

“I’ll be your Valentine from now on… Cuz I’m in love with you too.”

Taglist: @kiyoo-omi @mitzuya @vs-redemption @cursi-bitch

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lonelyyinchicago · 3 years

Text

giving sirius the childhood he deserves part 4

“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON IN HERE?”

remus choked as he entered the kitchen, smoke obscuring his view.

“sirius? sirius are you in here?”

out of the window above the sink, remus could make out the faint figure of his boyfriend waving a pan in the middle of the garden.

bursting out of the back door, remus headed towards the still burning food.

“what are you doing?”

sirius turned to face his boyfriend, revealing his ridiculous oven gloves.

“i was trying to make you something nice for our anniversary, but it didn’t really go to plan.”

“yes i can see that.”

sirius sat down on the grass defeatedly.

“i just wanted to do something special and you’re always the one that cooks and i-i don’t want to keep going to restaurants.”

remus wrapped a slender arm around sirius’ shoulders.

“well i can teach you if you like.”

sirius sniffed and shook his head.

“it’s okay, i already made a back-up reservation made at the italian anyway.”

remus planted a light kiss on sirius’ head, before helping him to his feet and leading him back inside.

“remus?”

“when did you learn to cook?”

“don’t do this, love.”

“you learnt with your mum, didn’t you?”

remus exhaled shakily and nodded ever so slightly. sirius swore and slammed the dish he was still holding on the counter. remus jumped and started to move towards his boyfriend, who left the room with tears in his eyes.

after a couple of minutes of deliberation in the middle of the kitchen, remus pulled a handful of recipe books off the shelf and headed upstairs.

he pushed the door open gently his gaze instantly falling to sirius, who was staring up at the ceiling blankly, tear stains still visible on his cheeks. he sat up as remus joined him on the bed.

“i didn’t mean to shout. i jus-”

remus reached out to gently run his thumb over sirius’ cheek.

“it’s okay. look, i brought these up so maybe we can go through them and we can a pick a couple of dishes to make together?”

sirius smiled up at remus, reaching for the closest book.

“can we make a birthday cake?”

“sure. for who?”

“for regulus. he’s obviously never had one so maybe?”

“i-yeah. why don’t we invite him and james for dinner and do the cake as dessert?”

“okay, i’ll ring them now so they keep next sunday free.”

remus nodded and began writing out a shopping list, including additional quantities in preparation for the disaster that would likely take place.

sirius burst back into room with a smile - “they’re coming!”

—

remus woke up and rolled over to check the time.

“sirius! sirius, wake up, it’s half nine!”

sirius sat up and pushed his hair back behind his ear.

“so? they’re not coming till seven.”

“but how are we supposed to let chicken marinate for five hours and then cook it and then put the cake in and have it all ready in time? get up!”

remus ripped the duvet off the bed, earning an exclamation from sirius who flinched at the sudden cold.

by the time sirius got down to the kitchen, remus already had measured the ingredients for the chicken pie. the kettle boiled and sirius went to pour himself a cup of coffee but remus swatted his hand away.

“that’s for the pastry - you can’t drink it.”

sirius looked around and shrugged.

“where’s the book? with the instructions.”

“i don’t have one for this pie - it’s just my mum’s recipe. it’s in here” remus said tapping the side of his head, accidentally leaving a flour mark.

sirius giggled as remus shook his head, realising his mistake.

“okay what can i do?” sirius asked, reaching across the counter to prod the ball of pastry remus kneading.

“well not that. but you can make the marinade if you want. it’s super easy just put-”

remus reeled off a list of spices half of which sirius had never heard of and even didn’t know they had in their cupboards.

“-and put it in the same bowl as those pieces of chicken over there. then just mix it all together, but make sure the chicken is properly covered - it might be okay easier to use your hands because spoons often miss a bit.”

it felt like a tonne of information but sirius nodded anyway.

“it’s so squidgy!” he squealed, quickly retracting his hands.

“NO!”

remus lunged across the room as sirius went to lick his finger.

“what?”

“it-that’s raw chicken! do you want to die?”

“die? remus i-”

“sorry i didn’t mean to be so aggressive but-”

“you have my express permission to be aggressive if you’re about to save my life” sirius assured him.

remus nodded and turned back to the pastry tin he was lining and brushing over with an egg wash.

“baby?” sirius asked tentatively, not wanting to question remus’ methods or experience, “why have you made the pastry so early if the chicken has to sit around for a few hours?”

“it has to be cooked once before, and then we’ll add the chicken and the pastry lid and then cook it properly.”

“oh okay.”

sirius hoisted himself onto the counter and sat quietly watching remus’ eyebrows get closer and closer together as he cut small leaf shapes out often excess pastry.

“you okay?” remus asked once he’d put the pastry in the oven.

sirius nodded, fiddling with the punnet of strawberries that were on the side.

“can we make the cake now?”

“let’s wash this stuff up first before the mess becomes too unbearable.”

sirius rolled his eyes.

“but that’s so boring.”

remus’ eyes flashed up at him and he sighed as he jumped off the counter to collect the dirty cutlery. with the draining board now full, remus turned to face sirius, pushing a handful of bubbles into his face.

“hey!” sirius spluttered, picking up his own bubbles to smear across remus’ cheeks.

remus smiled, the soap dripping into his mouth. he blew a kiss in his boyfriend’s direction, the bubbles floating down in between them. sirius grinned as remus turned away to open the recipe book to a chocolate cake.

“cakes are pretty easy” remus explained. “you throw everything in one bowl, mix it and put it in the oven. no! stop! not literally throw.”

“it makes it more fun. let me throw one egg - just one.”

“it has to go in the bowl, okay?”

“no promises” sirius said with a wink.

he picked up the biggest egg he could find and launched it at the bowl remus was holding up. it caught the edge of the glass bowl, and as the yolk split, some of it hit remus.

“right, you’ve had your fun, now come and wipe it up so we can finish this on time.”

sirius raised his eyebrow at remus’ sharp tone: “yes sir.”

remus stuck his tongue out as he crouched down to take the pastry out of the oven. he quickly covered the base in the chicken and put the lid on top. returning the pie to the oven, remus stood back up to continue making the cake batter.

“it says here” sirius said as he watched remus add cocoa powder, “that i should lick the spoon.”

remus snorted.

“does it really?”

“mhmm.”

“well i guess we’d better follow the instructions then” remus said as sirius’ eyes glowed.

“this tastes so good, moony!”

“well you can’t have any more” remus said, moving the bowl out of sirius’ reach, “or there won’t be any left to actually go in the oven.”

“oh” sirius said with a hint of disappointment.

“it’ll taste better once it’s actually cooked.”

sirius screwed up his nose in disbelief, but put his dirty spoon in the sink anyway.

“can you wash the strawberries please?” remus asked as he started to weigh out more chocolate for the icing.

“what strawberries?”

“the ones that were on the si- DID YOU FUCKING EAT THEM?”

“i saved some for you” sirius said sheepishly, holding out two single berries. “okay i’ll go to the shop quickly. be back soon.”

leaving a small kiss on remus’ cheek, sirius left.

the doorbell rang just as the oven timer went off. rushing to find the oven gloves to take the pie out of the oven, remus noticed the bottle of wine on the side that hadn’t been put in the fridge to chill.

rolling his eyes, he carefully pushed the pie out of its baking tin and answered the door.

regulus stood on the doorstep with james’ arms thrown casually over his shoulders.

“happy birthday!”

regulus smiled as remus let them in. sirius suddenly appeared behind them holding four packets of strawberries.

“what?” he said indignantly as all three of them looked at him. “i didn’t know how many we’d need.”

“i-okay” remus said, as they all headed into the kitchen.

the evening passed quickly as sirius rushed the pie to get the cake to the table. regulus pretended to coverhis ears as they sang at him terribly. with james’ head on his shoulder, regulus slapped his hand over his boyfriend’s mouth so he could blow the candles out by himself. james bit at his fingers and regulus crinkled up his nose.

as regulus cut the cake sirius watched his brother’s expression carefully, taking in the slight colour change in his cheeks. eventually regulus was unable to hide it any longer, and his smile spread uncontrollably across his face. he looked up across the table at sirius, who nodded, matching regulus’ smile.

“you were wrong, you know,” sirius mumbled to remus, with his slice of cake in front him, “it does not taste better cooked.”

#harry potter #remus lupin #sirius black #wolfstar #sirius x remus #remus x sirius #cake batter tastes better than the final product fight me

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mermaidsneedwater · 4 years

Text

before your period

⇒ jaebeom

Jaebeom walked into the kitchen expecting to see you doing something normal. What he found was you standing by the microwave, and massaging your breasts.

“Um, should I go?” He asked, feeling awkward he had caught you like that.

“No, I just feel sore. And I have the worst cramps ever.” You turned around, saying sadly, “I’m just warming up my heating pad.”

Walking to wrap his arms around you from behind, “I’m sorry this stuff is so hard for you. Is there anything I can do?”

Leaning back into his arms, you turned to him, “You can bring me my heating pad, I'm going to lie down on the couch.”

“Of course baby,” Jaebeom kissed your temple.

As you waited on the couch, you smiled when Jaebeom brought your pad. Thanking him, you spoke “I’m definitely getting my period soon, I never feel this way unless it’s coming.”

“I know, I think you’re getting it in three days,” Jaebeom remarked, sitting next to you.

“You know my cycle?” You asked, surprised he paid that much attention.

“Obviously, I have to be prepared for when it’s coming.”

⇒ mark

You’d forgotten that Mark was a light sleeper.

“Oh fuck.”

Mark sat up in bed, turning on the light, “What-Who’s there?” Realizing it was just you, he relaxed. “What are you doing? Why are you up so late?”

“I couldn't sleep,” you admitted, holding a book in your hand. “I thought I’d read, but I left my glasses in here. When I tried to get them, I tripped on a shoe.”

“Leave the book, lay down with me.” He said, laying back down in bed.

“I’m about to get a visit from Aunt Flow.” you said, crawling into bed and laying in his arms.

Mark laughed at the way you phrased it saying, “Are you twelve?”

“I’m serious, I can always tell because I can never sleep.” You frowned in the dark. “Say something.”

“Something.”

“Mark!” You whacked him lightly.

“Okay, okay, should I sing?” He asked, eyes closed.

“Yes.”

As Mark began to sing, you couldn’t help but close your eyes, drifting off to sleep in your boyfriend’s arms.

⇒ jackson

Jackson opened the front door of your home, finding you sitting on the couch.

“Hi babygirl,” he said.

“Hi,” you turned off the TV and got up to greet him.

As you came closer, Jackson unveiled a bouquets of your flowers. Surprised you got close and smelled them.

“What are these for?” You asked, taking them from him.

“No reason in particular. I saw them on my way home, and I thought of you.” Jackson smiled, wanting to see your reaction.

You looked at the flowers, and then at Jackson. Tears welled in your eyes as you went to wipe them.

Jackson’s face fell as he saw the tears fall. “Oh no, do you hate it? Did I get the wrong kind of flowers?”

You hugged Jackson, burying your face in his chest, he patted your head softly trying to comfort you.

“I love it.” You said. Pulling back, you wiped your tears. “It was so thoughtful, I just felt like crying!”

“Oh, well, I’m glad you like them.” Jackson said awkwardly. “Can I say something?”

“What?” you asked.

“Are you about to get your period?”

“Yes.” You admitted, “But I really did appreciate the flowers,”

⇒ jinyoung

“I don’t need you to tell me how to do it!” You snapped at Jinyoung.

You were taking a day trip to the mountains, but the trunk of the car wouldn’t fit all your stuff. It was beginning to feel like a game of Tetris.

You took everything out of the trunk and began to repack.

“Okay, tell me what you want me to do.” Jinyoung said calmly.

“Nothing.” You said frustrated. “Just go start the car.”

He stood not listening, watching you struggle. “Sweetheart, I can help you.”

“Just go! I told you what you can do, go start the car!” You said angrily.

Wordlessly, Jinyoung went to the front seat and started the car, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He watched you from the rear view wondow, keeping an eye out if you couldn’t actually get the stuff to fit.

After about fifteen minutes, you got in the passenger seat and slammed the door shut.

“Let’s go.” You grumbled.

Jinyoung pulled out of the lot and silently drove. You caught glimpse of your reflection in the mirror to find your emotions so clearly displayed on your face.

Looking out the window, you watched as cars passed by. Letting your anger dissipate you finally spoke. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Jinyoung said, placing one hand on yours.

“It was just so frustrating, getting all the stuff in.” You admitted. “And I think I’m getting my period soon.”

“Don’t get mad again, but I figured.” Jinyoung told you. “You’re never really like that unless it’s close to that time.”

⇒ youngjae

You groaned, rubbing your temples attempting to relieve yourself from the excruciating pain. Wincing, you rushed to bathroom cabinet, looking for some medicine to ease it.

“ba ba ba ba ba.” You heard Youngjae warming up his vocal chords. “Ni ni ni ni ni.”

Unable to find the medicine, you headed to your bed, attempting to sleep off the headache.

As you laid down with the pillow on your head, Youngjae walked into the room looking for you.

“Y/N? Are you awake?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” You replied.

“Oh, can you listen to my vocal exercises and see if my pitch is off?”

Sitting up in bed, you frowned “I wish I could but I just want to nap right now, I have a feeling my period is coming because I have the worst headache.”

Concerned, he immediately rushed to the bathroom and pulled out the medicine you were looking for, “Well definitely take one of these before you sleep okay darling?”

“Ugh, I was looking for that!” You told him. “You’re a lifesaver.”

“Get some rest okay?” Youngjae left the bottle by your bedside table along with your glass of water from before.

⇒ bambam

“I literally look pregnant.” You told Bambam, lifting your shirt to show him your bloating.

“Y/N, you look fine.” Bambam said, not looking up from his phone.

“You’re not even looking!” You complained.

Glancing up from his phone, Bambam saw your bloated stomach. Although he agreed it definitely looked bigger, Bambam also liked his life. He knew if he mentioned anything about it, you would murder him.

“I don’t see any difference.” He fibbed.

“Okay, now I know you’re lying.” You rolled your eyes. “I’m definitely getting my period soon.”

Turning back to the mirror you rand a hand over your bloated stomach. “Is this how I’m going to look pregant?”

Bambam stood up from his seat and walked towards you, wrapping his arms around you and tucking his head in your neck.

“Baby, you look beautiful to me no matter what.” He said honestly. “I love you, and that includes the days where your bloated and cranky.”

“Who said anything about me being cranky?” You whipped around.

“Uh-I” Bambam shrugged to find the words that would save him from this situation, “it’s just–“

“Bam, stop talking.” You said, hugging him, “but thank you for telling me that, I needed it.”

⇒ yugyeom

As you ransacked the fridge for something sweet, Yugyeom could only watched from afar.

“What are you doing honey?” He asked.

“I want something sweet to eat,” Before he could answer, you added “that’s not fruit, or anything remotely healthy.”

Watching as you were unsuccessful in your pillage of the fridge, he leaned against the doorframe.

Standing up you sighed, “I guess I’ll just bake.”

Perking up a bit, Yugyeom watched as you took out the ingredients to make brownies.

“Do you want?” You asked. “I’m not in the mood to share, so you better tell me now.”

“No, I’m good.” Yugyeom said, “but I will watch you bake.”

Shrugging, you got to work mixing the ingredients together rand pouring the batter into a pan.

Sitting at your countertop, you joined Yugyeom as you waited for the brownies to cook.

He watched you lovingly as you licked the spoon with the batter.

“Is there something on my face?” You asked, turning to him.

“No, I’m just watching you,” Yugyeom said.

“Creep.”

Laughing, Yugyeom kissed your temple.

After about a half hour, your brownies were ready and the smell was driving Yugyeom crazy. He should’ve asked you to share some with him. As you took out the hot brownie and put it on your plate, you brought it back to your seat next to Yugyeom.

Taking a bite, you moaned “It’s so good.”

Happily enjoying your brownie, Yugyeom couldn’t help but sneak a bite.

“Hey!” You yelled at him. “I’m about to get my period and this is the only thing that is making me feel good right now!”

With a mouthful of brownie, Yugyeom managed to say, “I’m sorry! It smelled so good.”

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