#um but i will add it to the list of prompts i might probably won’t get to at some point | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xxxrubytuesdayxxx · 3 years

Text

“What are you doing in my bed?”

Hongjoong x Reader

Genre: Fluffy angst and a bit of smut towards the end

Word Count: 7,294

Concept: Kim Hongjoong doesn’t want to be a virgin anymore and he’s determined to get his way, even if it involves sneaking into your bedroom between tasks.

Credits to a few prompt-lists I found trawling the internet, but I lost the links, I’m sorry :( If you recognise any, please let me know and I will do proper credits x

Masterlist

“This was a terrible, terrible idea,” you think to yourself, as you survey the ‘damage’ in the dorm. Oh there’s nothing wrong with the state of the rooms - it’s the state of the boys themselves. Because of course what the company set up as a cooking and eating game for a V Live descended into a drinking game the minute the main staff left. Yet it’s actually surprisingly easy to chase the younger ones off to bed. Which just leaves the eldest two: long-legged, sweet but slightly tipsy Seonghwa and their petite, treacherously-pretty but definitely-plastered leader Hong-Joong. Sizing up the levels of intoxication and seniority, You decide to tackle the slightly younger leader first.

“Bed, Hong-Joong!” you attempt, mustering up what you hope is a convincing ‘eomma’ vibe. Apparently you’re not very convincing though because he just squeals and bats you away.

“Ani! I’m leader! No bed!” he objects. “Anyway, I’m want to annoy Seonghwa first,” he announces, in endearingly grammatically-incorrect English, complete with a mischievous smile, before darting out of your reach and perching himself on the arm of the couch to watch his hyung record a ‘cute’ wake-up message for ATINY.

“I will show you the cute version,” Seonghwa tells his leader dutifully, cue card in hand, before turning towards the one waiting camera.

“Ani, I don’t want to see!!” wails Hong-Joong dramatically, collapsing off the arm of the couch onto the seat itself in apparent agony, with his eyes squeezed shut. “Argh! Jebal!” he yells, clearly determined to be a massive brat about poor Seonghwa’s task. He then proceeds to make ridiculous high-pitched noises while Seonghwa reads his message out, until Seonghwa cuts him off with a soft reprimand, knowing only he can use banmal with his leader: “Ah, keep quiet.” Hong-Joong obediently stops making noises, but then smirks unrepentantly when the older boy laughs at himself and stops the reading before screaming in frustration, himself, at the difficulty of his recording, making the now-quiet Hong-Joong snicker.

“Argh! I can’t do this!” Seonghwa laments. Noting that Hong-Joong has calmed down, he decides to ask him for some feedback on the instructions:

“What’s the difference between sexy and sensuous?” This gets Hong-Joong’s attention.

“Sexy? Ah, you don’t know?” he replies, springing up off the couch with drunken bravado, ready to show his hyung how it’s done. He staggers over to a very confused Seonghwa, who looks like he doesn’t know whether to laugh or worry.

“Sexy is...just...you see it…” he babbles meaninglessly. “This is sexy, this is sexy. If it’s sensuous...when you see it…” then gives him a somewhat-mystifying rendition of ‘sexy’ and mumbles "that's what I mean" before drifting out of the room and towards the stairs to their bedrooms, singing to himself. Seonghwa just stares after him, at a loss, then returns to his recording in peace. You give the older boy an encouraging smile, figuring he’s probably still sober enough to get himself up to bed, and then venture up to check on Hong-Joong. Only he’s not in his bedroom.

Sighing to yourself, you check the other boys’ rooms but then have to conclude that he’s in the bathroom, and there’s not much you can do there, except knock and call out to him if he’s still not out in ten minutes. So you head to your room, intending to get changed and prepare for bed. Only when you swing the door open, Hong-Joong is sprawled on his back, still fully dressed, in your bed - under the covers. You clear your throat pointedly.

“Excuse me, Hong-Joong? What are you doing in my bed?” you ask him, exasperatedly.

“I will try to seduce you, noona,” he tells you, in his adorably-accented, slightly off-kilter English, lovely long eyelashes fluttering coyly, as he sits up.

“Wha-I mean what…?” you stammer, assuming he’s just got his words tangled again. “Seduce?” You’re desperately trying to think of a plausible alternative, but your mind is drawing a blank from panic. Admittedly nothing innocent fits this scenario.

“Eung - yuhokhaeyo,” he affirms, nodding cutely.

“Um...you’re drunk, sweetheart,” you tell him, sitting tentatively by his side and patting his shoulder soothingly. You want to have misinterpreted him nearly as much as you want to take him up on his offer, but, despite his avowed attempt to ‘tempt’ you, in Korean parlance, you resist. He pouts a little and flings himself back onto his back, eyes fluttering shut again.

“Chwihaji anassoyo~~” [I’m not drunk] he whines, before switching back to English, frustrated at being misunderstood, as he sees it. “I just want...have sex with someone," he tries.

“Probably not the best time to have sex, really,” you point out, biting your lip to stop yourself from laughing, as you don’t want to embarrass him or indeed give yourself away. He sits up suddenly, opens his eyes and fixes you with an intense stare. You falter, blush and lower your own eyes, but he puts a finger under your chin and gently lifts your face to look in your eyes.

“Will you...reconsider...if I am...sober?” he asks you, carefully, still in English.

“I don’t...I mean it’s probably not a great idea, tiger,” you caution him. “Wait though...are you...what are you saying...exactly?” you correct yourself, suddenly noticing that his cheeks are flushed almost the same shade as his strawberry-bangs and his eyes are avidly studying your duvet. He hums nervously, smoothing the duvet with his hand, but doesn’t answer or even look up at you. The realization hits you as all the pieces come together. “Chyeonyo-ye-yo?” [Are you a virgin?] you ask him softly, not wanting to embarrass him either way. He nods shyly, keeping his head and eyes down and pulling at a loose thread on the duvet as his cheeks flush even hotter.

“Wow...I mean...wow,” you falter. “I’m sorry honey, I really didn’t know,” you reassure him, slipping your hand under his, on the cover, with your palm facing up. After a moment, his fingers curl tentatively around your hand and you feel a shiver of desire run through you. “Well...um...maybe we can wait until you’ve sobered up and then we can try and find you...I mean find a way to help you get...um...erm...laid,” you finish awkwardly, feeling like his innocence is being violated by the very thought of it. But then you remember he was the one who asked, so perhaps he’s not that innocent - at least of lustful thoughts.

“Laid?” he asks you now, reigniting your reluctance to contact one of the professionals the company usually engages for this kind of service.

“Er...laid is a slang term for...for um…” you stall.

“Sex?” Hong-Joong chirps brightly, looking pleased with himself and finally catching your eye, now that he feels he has something to be pleased with himself about - his English ability.

“Yeah, sex,” you admit reluctantly. “Look, Joong, are you sure about this?” you ask him.

“Ne,” he whispers, leaning towards you expectantly and closing his eyes again.

“Wow! No, no, no!” you deter him, hurriedly, gently moving him back against the headboard of your bed. “No, I meant are you sure you want me to find someone to have sex with you?” He pouts and opens his eyes - this time holding your gaze.

“I want,” he hesitates, checking your eyes, “to...to?” You nod, assuming he’s just checking his grammar. “I want to have sex with you, noona. Right now,” he tells you firmly, nodding for emphasis. You’re already shaking your head, but you stand up and pull him up with you to add some weight to your refusal of this proposal.

“No. You’re not losing your virginity when you’ve been drinking and might regret it tomorrow - or possibly not even remember it, from the looks of you,” you tease him gently. “C’mon - come back to your room and get some sleep.” He shakes his head vehemently, tossing his hair petulantly and stamps his foot.

“Kiseu-haejwo~~” [Kiss me] he whines, stubbornly refusing to move when you tug at his arm.

“It’s not happening, honey,” you sigh.

“But you call me honey,” he persists, tossing his hair away from his eyes to wink at you provocatively, and sticking his tongue out for good measure.

“Yeah. I did,” you admit, sighing again at his persistence. “But it’s just a general term of endearment, like...sweetheart.”

“Call me jagiya,” he flirts, deliberately fluttering his amazing eyelashes at you.

“Kim Hong-Joong!” you warn him in a furious whisper. He ignores you, quickly grabs your chin in both of his hands and presses his lips to yours before you can stop him. Startled, you just let him kiss you, until he teases your lips open and slips his tongue into your mouth.

“No-no-no-no-no! Bad, bad, boy!” you tell him firmly, pushing him away with both hands. He just giggles and tries again, but this time you’re ready for him and put your hand against his chest to keep him back. “Right. Bed! Right now...go!” you stammer, fumbling your words as you try to stop yourself from shaking...or wanting to feel his lips on yours again. He smirks, grabs you around the waist this time and slams you up against the wall to kiss you again. This time with no prelude, just straight up making out. You hesitate for a fraction of a second, but then push him away again.

He stops but only to lick his own lip experimentally. “Mm...you taste like fucking candy,” he teases you, with another wink, moving back in for the kill.

“What are you doing?!” you demand, stopping him again. “Behave! You’ll get me fired!”

“I won’t!” he pouts.

“You most certainly will,” you correct him. “If there was a camera in my room, I’d be packing my bags already.”

“Really?” he asks, looking genuinely worried this time. You nod fervently. “Staff have to sign contracts as well, you know,” you explain. “I’m sorry, honey. Look, let’s get you back to your room before the others start looking for you to finish that mission, okay? He gives you a resentful, sulky look, but obediently exits your room, where you hear his dainty footsteps padding across to his bedroom and his door open and close, just before Seonghwa comes up the stairs looking for him. Trying not to panic at how close that was, you peel your clothes off and start to prepare for bed.

*************************************************

So you really shouldn’t be surprised when he endeavours to make your job incredibly difficult the next day. Seems, contrary to the saying, hell hath no fury like a kpop idol scorned. Worse, you already have to explain the day’s schedule to eight boys in various stages of hangover hell. Fortunately, in most cases it’s more a matter of keeping them awake and attentive, but Hong-Joong’s idea of revenge is yelling things and making distracting noises throughout the entire meeting. By the time you’re on the last round of explanations and he starts to object, you throw caution to the wind and slap your hand straight over his pretty mouth.

“If you interrupt me one more time, Hong-Joong, so help me God...” you warn him, through clenched teeth. He watches you fake-innocently over your hand, while the others come around long enough to snicker conspiratorially at the sight of their leader being chastised. You remove your hand, but continue giving him a warning look, then finish explaining the schedule and shoo them all into hair and makeup, overriding their pleading cries of ‘feeling sick’ and ‘wanting to go back to bed’ with the reminder that they got themselves into this mess, and that tomorrow is a free day, so they only need to keep it together for the rest of today before they’ll win a break.

They’re filing dutifully out of the cars, having had the luxury of a camera-less ride to the studio, Hong-Joong looking very pleased with his freshly-dyed bright blue bangs, when San and Wooyoung decide to accost you.

“What is it, Wooyoung?” you ask, eyeing a grinning San off suspiciously.

“Hong-Joong-hyung is want to have sex with you, noona” the younger boy informs you smugly, in halting English. San nods sagely, confirming this apparently hot tip. You close your eyes and sigh exasperatedly, trying not to show them that either a) you know this or b) you’re equally problematically attracted to their leader.

“Okay even if he did...which I doubt,” you begin, keeping your voice calm with difficulty. “Why on earth would he tell you two that?” you ask.

“He tell all members,” San updates you gleefully, before reverting to Korean to elaborate: “We were sharing TMI facts for games.”

“Great. That’s great,” you tell them sarcastically. “And on what planet does he think that information would be an appropriate TMI to share?”

“Oh he doesn’t...he was just really intoxicated by then,” Wooyoung giggles.

“This just gets better and better,” you marvel.

“Are you going to yell at him again, noona?” Wooyoung asks you, trying to contain his obvious glee. San watches seemingly impassively, but you can see the anticipation in his eyes. You narrow your own.

“So how do I know you two aren’t just making this up for a prank? Or to get your leader in more trouble?” you ask, pretending to be suspicious.

“Ask the others,” San shrugs. “Or ask him.” This throws you and they can sense it, which understandably deepens their curiosity and makes you panic.

"Fine. Tell him to come see me once you're done with the radio slot," you tell them, attempting to call their bluff.

It doesn't quite go according to plan though. You’re just thinking you've maybe impressed the gravity of the situation on Ateez's leader when he interrupts you with characteristic sass, but careful to stick to jondaemal: “Noona, jebal geuman malhago kiseuhae julraeyo?” [Noona, would you please stop talking and kiss me?]. Thank God you were prescient enough to talk to him alone. You stare at him open-mouthed.

“You...what...did you hear anything I just said!?” you demand. He nods, cutely, swinging his shoulders with his hands clasped together in front of him to complete the innocent look, and shoots you a come-hither look, through his eyelashes.

“So um...if you heard me, did you understand me?” you check, wishing your Korean was more fluent for situations like this.

“Yes, I understand,” he murmurs in English, his voice husky.

“So why…” you try, with another sigh. “Why did you still ask for a kiss?” He shrugs, pouts, pushes the toe of his boot into the leg of the couch he’s standing beside then flops heavily into it with a deeply wounded sigh. You follow suit, seating yourself on the other couch. Hong-Joong keeps his head lowered and stays silent, occasionally adjusting his eyelashes with his pointer finger until you have to ask, against your better judgment, but you feel bad for rejecting him:

“Gwaenchanaeyo, Joong?”

He sniffs disconsolately, plays with his eyelashes again, and shakes his head with a little hiccoughing sob. Well now you feel really bad, but this is a no-win situation.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you, sweetheart,” you try, softening your voice. He nods, quickly, acknowledging your words, but swipes at his eyes with the back of his hand. You hold back a sigh of exasperation, and move to sit by him on his couch, tentatively placing your hand on his shoulder.

“Come on, Joong - don’t be like that,” you plead. “These aren’t my rules. But even if there weren’t rules...you’re so young. Don’t you want your first time to be with someone else your age. Who maybe can share the...the experience with you?” You try not to picture how it will more likely go if you arrange something for him, but push the thought away, pretending to yourself that the company can somehow make it romantic for him.

“Ani,” he sulks, head still lowered and blueberry bubblegum bangs spilling over his face. “I want you to kiss me.” He finally lifts his head and fixes you with his big, dark eyes. “Jebal,” he begs, voice breaking a little. “Only once, then I stop asking,” he bargains, in English, picking up on the subtle change in your expression. You sigh, close your eyes, and put your head in your hands, steeling yourself. You can feel Hong-Joong’s eyes on you. You can almost feel his heart thumping in his chest as he waits nervously for an answer.

“Okay,” you agree reluctantly, knowing in your heart of hearts that, despite his words, it won’t stop here. “On one condition. You are not to tell anybody ever.” He nods obediently, eyes sparkling with anticipation. “Okay then...Where am I kissing you?”

He is already facing you in anticipation, his hands neatly on his thighs and his eyes shut so you can see those glorious eyelashes resting on his cheeks. The tiniest tracks of his tears stain his pretty face, and his lips are parted, ready for his requested kiss. But he opens his eyes at the question, confused.

“Right here,” he tells you, cocking his head to the side. You laugh softly.

“No. Where on yourself do you want to be kissed?” you amend.

“Oh…” he is a little flustered by the question. “On…” he touches his lips. “On my mouth,” he requests. You smile at his innocence.

“Okay. Close your eyes again,” you tell him. He does so obediently and you lean across to kiss him softly, but sensuously, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth, and tangle it with yours. He wraps his arms around your waist, and you twine yours around his neck, turning your head on the side to allow him to sate his appetite on you. You only stop him, gently, when his hands sneak around towards your chest.

“There you go,” you murmur, extricating yourself reluctantly from his embrace. “Happy?”

“Yes,” he breathes, but he looks distinctly the opposite. “Noona? I...I have to go,” he tells you. You’re a bit taken aback, but you nod to him and let him up and he darts out of the room without a backwards glance. ‘Oh boy - this is gonna be fun’ you think to yourself, before leaving the little studio lounge to go round the other boys up.

You leave Hong-Joong until last, to give him some privacy to sort out his presumably mixed emotions, but it gets to the point that you really need them all in the cars, so you have to resort to checking the private recording booths, though you can’t imagine why he would be in one of them without booking it, and of course the bathrooms - which you plan to leave until absolute last. You ask the others if they’ve seen him, but they all shrug at you innocently. Finally Yeosang remembers that he saw their leader go upstairs to the sleeping pods. Thanking him exasperatedly, you jog up the stairs and then enter the space quietly, knowing that idols use it to recuperate between scheduled events. Most of the pods seem to be empty though, and it’s only when your ears adjust that you hear Hong-Joong’s voice and feel your cheeks flush.

At least he’s not sleeping, you reason, so you won’t have to wake him, but the sharp little intakes of breath and the quiet moans you hear make you think waking him would be infinitely less trouble. Still...if he’s with someone, at least now you won’t have to find him a date. You slide the door across, preparing yourself to chastise him at least a little, for form’s sake, but he’s alone. And boy, does he look guilty when he catches your eye. After a brief deer-caught-in-headlights moment, he freaks out completely, squeals loudly and throws himself commando-style off the further side of the little camp-bed, re-emerging adorably with the top of his face peeping over the mattress at you.

“Hong-Joong?! Are you alright?" you laugh. He nods and gives you cute v-fingers over his eyes and a mischievous smile. "Erm, good...what were you...wait were you just getting yourself off?” you ask him, the words spilling from your lips before you can stop yourself and wishing he didn’t look quite so delectable - kneeling up on his shins, chest heaving, with his hair dishevelled, lips just parted and eyes at half-mast and his arms awkwardly crossed across his crotch.

“U-uh...no...I was just…” he stammers, deeply unconvincingly, despite the tinkling sound of the buckle of his jeans belt dangling against the side of his leg.

“Okay, so the second car is leaving and you need to get yourself down there quick smart before it leaves without you,” you tell him, choosing to leave the subject.

“Or…?” he asks you, a little panicked. You hesitate, not wanting to give him any ideas. But it’s going to be just as awkward if you make him come downstairs with you right now.

"Or we'll have to arrange another way to get you home," you concede. "Look, just...fix yourself up. I'll work something out and come back for you. "

***********************************************

So this is the series of racy events that leads to you finding yourself in the back of a taxicab on the way back to the dorm from Hongdae, slightly the worse for the soju, with an endearingly tipsy Hong-Joong’s pretty head in your lap, using all your self-control to ignore the tantalizing effect of the incredibly illicit kisses that he is bestowing on your stockinged thighs whilst he’s meant to be ‘resting’.

“Joong, stop it! I’m warning you,” you chastise him for probably the twelfth time since you’ve clambered into this cab together. “I cannot believe you talked the staff into having me chaperone you for a night out on the town.” You don’t add that neither you nor they would have gone along with this if they’d had any idea whatsoever of his intentions. But lucky for him, you obviously weren’t going to tell on him and you gather the other boys had his back as well. Now however, you’re not entirely sure the scope for gossip won’t kill them.

Thank God, the taxi makes it back to the dorm before he can test you any further, and you jump out of the backseat to pay the driver, before helping Hong-Joong out and guiding him inside and up to his bedroom, where he spins around in a sort of pirouette before flinging himself onto his bed with a cute giggle.

“I look pretty today, don’t I, noona?” he checks with you, preening a little.

“Very pretty,” you assure him, careful to keep the tone of your voice neutral.

“No, you’re teasing me, noona~~” he whines. “Say it properly that I look pretty.” He shakes his head, making his long, silver earrings dance and jump.

“You look pretty, Hong-Joong-oppa~,” you tell him, with an aegyo flourish, before rolling your eyes teasingly at him and he laughs, loudly, with his hand in front of his mouth, then hits you playfully, in that adorable fashion he has. You give up on any pretence that he’s not dangerously close to getting his way, what with your guard being down and the soju still buzzing through you.

“Are you trying to turn me on, or are you really just that oblivious?” you ask him, wryly. His eyes go wide, unsure if he’s just understood you correctly.

“Mwo?” he chirrups.

“You heard me,” you purr, leaning forward to kiss him lingeringly. He responds immediately, arms coming around you to pull you against him and lips moving against yours eagerly, before you feel his tongue searching for yours. You kiss for a while, but when he lays down and pulls you over on top of him, you stop him.

“Okay, okay,” you laugh. “I think we need to stop now, before someone gets hurt.” You stand up reluctantly, and give him what you plan to be one last kiss, tugging at his bottom lip gently with your teeth, before you pull away. He clings to you, kissing your jawline and then your neck, but you extricate yourself and stand up, making his face fall and his pretty smile merge into a pout.

“Wae, noona~?” he sulks, cute.

“Did you honestly think your devious little plot would work?” you tease him. “Whatever happened to ‘I won’t ask anymore once I get one kiss,’ hmm? You’ve had way more than one kiss, Joong...it’s time to move on back to reality now,” you tell him, sadly, turning to go. He sighs his defeat, letting his shoulders sink and making you wish fervently that you could just hold him and make him feel all better. You honestly can’t think of a reason that one of the professionals the company can hire for him will make him feel any more of a man than you could right now. And just as you’re mulling it over, reluctant to take your final leave, he lets his gaze rake you from head to foot, winks provocatively, and then bites his lip with a little ‘c'mere’ tilt of his chin.

“Did you just look me up and down and then bite your lip?” you ask him, rhetorically. “‘Cause, you know what? If you did, then, fuck the rules. We’re having sex. Right now.” This time he manages not to give himself away completely, but his eyebrows go up and he swallows hard. He rearranges himself nervously on the bed as you check his door, making sure it’s locked. When you turn your attention back to Hong-Joong, you almost have second thoughts. He has arranged himself carefully, so that his shirt is open half-way to his waist, exposing most of his chest but artfully concealing his nipples, and he's leaning back on his hands, legs stretched out in front of him to give you the best possible view. His head is tilted, eyes lowered, and his slender neck looks impossibly delicate, wrapped in a black silk choker. He smiles bewitchingly and dares a look up through his lashes when you walk over to him and sit on the edge of his bed.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Hong-ssi?” you ask him softly.

“Yes!” he tells you firmly.

“Really?” you confirm. “Because you seem...maybe a little shy?” you try gently, putting your hand on his to try and help him relax.

“I have a little...little nervous,” he explains, bravely, in English, showing you with his fingers pinched together how ‘little’ the little bit of nervousness is.

“Oh - ginjanghaessoyo?” you check, in Korean. He nods quickly, blushing. You put your hand on his cheek and give him a light kiss. “Well, you don’t need to be. I promise I’ll look after you. And I’m sure you’ll do great for your first time. Still good?” Another nod. “Now, remember just tell me anytime if you want to stop, okay?” you instruct him. “I won’t be annoyed.”

“Okay,” he says with a bright smile.

“And you don’t need to be shy about making noise either, okay? If it feels good, you let me know and I will do the same. It makes it more fun,” you add, with a wink. He giggles, bites his lip and then nods again. “Now c’mere, you sexy little thing,” you tell him, hooking your arm around his waist to pull him closer, and kissing him lingeringly. He moans softly into your mouth and you reward him by deepening the kiss and letting your other hand stray inside his open shirt to play with one of his nipples. He gasps and then moans again, his lips still attached to yours and his tongue exploring your mouth with swiftly-growing passion. You keep kissing him, but press him back onto the bed properly, so that you can straddle his thighs.

“Where do you want me to kiss you next?” you ask him, unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way, and pulling it open, so that you can stroke his naked chest.

“Odiena,” [everywhere] he begs, writhing impatiently under your touch and tossing his head on the pillows in an agony of anticipation. You laugh softly.

“I can’t kiss you everywhere at once,” you object. “Give me a clue...” You let one hand stray back to his nipples, making him arc his back, then you let your other hand deliberately brush the front of his pants, making him buck his hips up to press himself against your fingers.

“Seems like you’re having trouble deciding,” you tease him, letting your lower hand run the length of his still-clothed erection but bending your head towards his chest. You don’t let him get away with it that easily though, swerving at the last second to whisper into his ear:

“Why don’t you show me what you were doing in that booth upstairs this afternoon?”

“I...I wasn’t…” he stammers, blushing and nervously playing with his eyelashes.

“You were though, weren’t you?” you say. “That’s why you ran off when I kissed you. Do you have any idea how much catching you like that turned me on?”

“Oh jinjja?” he asks, surprised, but clearly flattered.

“Mmhm,” you assure him. “C’mon...let me see your jaji...I mean it feels pretty sexy,” you tell him, curling your fingers around the outline of it through his jeans. “Besides, do you honestly think I’ve been able to concentrate on anything all day while you’ve been teasing me while looking like a whole snack with this new hair?” you ask him, undoing his belt and jeans as you speak. He giggles, then self-consciously pushes his bangs back from his face and gives you another of his very pretty smiles but then hisses through his teeth and moans softly as you release his erection from his boxer-briefs and start to stroke him.

“But it’s you who tease me now, noona,” he complains, kissing you until you’re frantic for him. “You make fun by saying me all this things,” he elaborates, his breath getting more and more shallow as you speed up your strokes and his hips follow along by instinct, a thin trickle of precum leaking from his tip and making him groan helplessly.

“I’m not teasing you, babe,” you reassure him. “Every time you’ve caught my eye today, every time you’ve shown off these lovely assets of yours,” you stop caressing his cock to run your fingers longingly over his lips, then along his clavicle and then down over his hip, making him arc into your touch again… “I’ve wanted you more and more. But I’ve known that despite every inch of me aching for you, I’m not allowed to have you. You got teased by the others for saying you look pretty today? Well I think that you look not just pretty but also hot and very sexy. But I’m not supposed to tell you that. I’m not even supposed to think that,” you murmur, running your tongue over his bottom lip and eliciting a needy whine from deep in his throat. “But I don’t care anymore, Hong-Joong-ah...I want you so badly.” You kiss him again and he responds eagerly, but chastely, making you melt at his angelic sweetness.

After a moment, you reach for his cock again and start to pump your hand up and down it, but he flinches, so you pull back straight away, noting that his cheeks are aflame with blushes.

“Would you like to stop?” you check with him, keeping your voice soft and gentle.

“Ani, ani,” he stammers, waving his hand to show he just needs to catch his breath. “I just worry that I...will make a mess everywhere...too soon,” he attempts to explain.

“Oh! You’re worried you’re going to cum soon?” you check. He nods, embarrassed. “That’s okay, jagi…” you tell him. “We can slow down for a little while if you like?” He nods again, quickly this time, smiling at you sweetly when you deliberately use the term he had asked you for earlier. You let him fix himself up and then curl into your arms against the pillows with his head on your chest. You lay together quietly for a little while, kissing occasionally, as you play idly with his blueberry-bangs.

You’re just starting to count your blessings, thinking he’s actually drifting off to sleep after all and you can escape, leaving both his pride and his virginity intact, as his limbs start to feel heavier and his breathing slows towards sleeping pace. But then, just as you begin to gently disentangle yourself, he hooks your leg with his to stop you escaping, rolls over to press his hips against yours and then kisses you rather too passionately. You give in straight away this time, kissing him back with a ferocity to rival his own, and wrapping your legs up around his waist.

He pulls away a little, clearly unsure how to proceed, and kneels up between your legs to watch you, biting his lip again, but this time with a truly unconscious innocence of how sexy he looks. He tilts his head on the side, and then cautiously runs his hands up your sides, apparently not daring to do more. You smile at him and nod discreetly, but he just blushes again and clears his throat nervously.

“It’s okay, Hong-ssi,” you reassure him. “I won’t bite, and I’m not going to stop you anymore tonight. Just follow your instincts. You look like you maybe want to undress me?” you suggest. “Go on then, go ahead.” You smile again, trying to put him at ease, then raise your hand to his cheek and sit up to kiss him messily. You feel him smile and then his hands come up to peel the straps of your top off your shoulders and down your arms.

“Mmm…” you murmur against his lips, shifting to allow him to undo the front of your top, then wriggling a little to help him remove the whole thing, so that you’re kissing him in only your bra and skirt. “Mmff...keep going, jagiya,” you encourage him, lifting his hand back up to your bra straps. You let him struggle with your bra while you get to work on removing his shirt properly and undoing his jeans again. You know you could help him, but you kind of sense it’s better to let him make any mistakes that he’s going to make now, while he’s in a safe environment where he won’t be judged if he’s not perfect at everything. He makes a cute little frustrated noise as he tries to figure out the clasp, but then another pleased noise when he manages to get your bra off, but you pretend not to notice and just let him have his moment, sliding the garment off, then pulling you into his arms again, against his naked chest.

You kiss the tip of his nose, then tease his jeans carefully off his hips and down his thighs, letting him kick and yank them the rest of the way off until he’s kneeling on his bed in front of you, blushing but eager, in only his boxer briefs. You lean across and start to tease kisses from his knee, working your way up his thigh towards his thinly-veiled erection.

“Oh, jebal~,” he begs you, trying to move his leg so that you will come higher.

“Jebal? Mwo, jebal?” you murmur, wanting him to say it. “What do you want me to do?”

“Kiss...kiss,” he breathes, still in a pleading voice.

“Kiss? I’m already kissing…” you tease him, tickling his skin with your tongue now, and allowing your lips to dance ever nearer to the bottom leg-line of his panties. He moans, much louder now, and you let your other hand dip into his waistband to just barely skim the silky head of his cock. His moans intensify and he slams his head inadvertently back against the headboard of his bed, startling you a little, but not as much as he startles himself. He winces then rubs the back of his head with his hand and gives you a slightly hurt look.

“Yah, noona~” he whines. “You know what I’m mean. I want you to please...put my...my [he gives up and opts for the Korean when he can’t think of the English] je jaji...into your mouth,” he explains in a pouting almost-aegyo tone. You kinda want to tease him a little longer, but frankly you can never resist him when he talks in pout, even when the stakes are this high. And, judging by his sparkling eyes, he knows it too.

Trying not to hurt him, you pull his boxer-briefs carefully away from his erection and lick his shaft from balls to tip like an icecream. He shudders and another long, low moan escapes his body as his hands clutch his bedsheets. You raise your head to take him in your mouth, gently moving one of his hands to place it on the back of your head and indicating he should let you know how fast he needs you to go. Arcing into you, he presses his hand against the back of your head, needing you to speed up, which you do, using your free hand to hold him steady and being careful to keep your teeth behind your lips. After an interval of his pretty moans and your jaw starting to feel it, his hips dance, and he swears under his breath, in Korean.

“Wait-stop-stop!” he yelps, trying to pull away, but it’s too late and his voice trembles into another prolonged groan as you taste his warm jizz flooding your tongue. “Oh, shibal, mianhamnida,” [fuck, sorry] he stammers, mortified. You ignore his sweet objections and lick him clean, then pull him down by your side and let him cuddle shyly into you with his face turned into the crook of your neck.

“Noona?” he asks, squeezing your waist with his arm.

“What is it, Joong?” you murmur sleepily, the soju finally settling in your veins.

“Please stay here with me?” he requests. You sigh, afraid to tell him.

“No, no - that’s too much, doll,” you try to cushion the blow with a finger under his chin and a soft kiss on his lips. “I have to go back to my room, now that the damage is done.”

“But you say...well...we are going to have sex,” he pouts.

“And we did, you little minx,” you tell him, but he is already shaking his head, cheeky.

“Ani. I still am...virgin,” he corrects you defiantly, pleased with himself for remembering the English word.

“You’re still? Wow...you’re really going to go for the literal definition, are you?,” you laugh quietly at his sass. “Well, you may find you need to recharge a little first,” you sigh, giving in. He veritably purrs at this update and you see a devilish grin slip across his lips, though he keeps his eyes tightly squeezed shut, making you marvel anew at his beautiful eyelashes, by this stage of the evening innocent of eyelash-curlers or mascara, yet still works of art in themselves.

You cuddle up together for another small interval, but this time you realize that you must have drifted off to sleep yourself, when you open your eyes to find the sun peeking over the horizon outside. You smile to yourself when you notice Hong-Joong slumbering sweetly, completely naked in your arms, but you’re not sure how to disentangle yourself without waking him again. You manage to edge yourself out of his embrace, get your top back on and locate your bra but when you turn to give him one last longing look, he is propped up on one arm, eyes blearily open and watching you resentfully. He opens his mouth to say something and you swiftly close the distance between the two of you, to put a finger to his lips.

“You trick me,” he whispers fiercely. You try not to laugh at his indignant tone.

“I didn't, sweetheart! I fell asleep, same as you,” you defend yourself.

“So we have sex now?” he asks you, yawning and covering his mouth politely. You shake your head at him with amused incredulity.

“We can’t now,” you tell him. “There’s no way people won’t find out. It’s morning.” He just shrugs and tries to pull your skirt off.

“I don’t care,” he informs you cheekily, switching to an attempt to remove your top when you intervene with his attempt to remove your skirt. “If we are...balli-balli...[quickly - if you go fast] then we not wake members,” he bargains.

“Okay, okay! My gosh, you’re persistent,” you marvel, drawing him into your arms and kissing him. He deepens the kiss, tugging at your lip with his teeth in the sweetest punishment as his hands work quickly to remove the rest of your clothes.

“Hey - where’s that shy boy from last night?” you tease him, but he just sticks his tongue out at you and taps your legs, making you spread them so that he can climb between them. He’s all masterful confidence until you feel his erection tickling the inside of your thighs and he pauses, on his hands and knees, looking at you nervously. You run your hands along his body and down onto his hips and pull him forward.

“Ah - there’s our shy boy! It’s okay, jagi,” you reassure him, wrapping your legs up around him and lifting your hips to meet him. He kisses you under the jawline, and lets his hands stray towards your chest, so you drop your hand down to guide his cock to rest against your already-wet folds, then give your hips a little thrust so that he slips in. He gasps and thrusts his own hips instinctively, then you grab them and pull him the rest of the way forward, simultaneously eliciting a jagged moan from his lips and sighing with relief yourself, as he slides right up inside you, making you call out his name. He moans your name back to you, then finally starts to rock his hips back and forward, his breath coming hotter and faster against your neck as his moans get louder and more urgent.

“Aigoh! Ai-ai-yuh...uh! Aiohhohh!” he vocalizes shamelessly as he gets more and more caught up in your lovemaking, until he appears to have forgotten his surroundings. You surrender to him completely, kissing and caressing every part of him that you can reach.

“Oh-uh...pokbalhaga naol got gatayo~” [I feel like I’m going to explode] he confesses as his hips start to reach jackhammer speed.

“Oh, jinjja?” you gasp. He moans in the affirmative into your neck. “Do it, jagi. Cum inside me!” you gasp. His hands force you to speed up to his pace and his lovely voice climbs high enough to definitely have caught the attention of the other members.

“Oh shib!” he groans, his lips parted and his eyes at half-mast in a perfect mask of sexual gratification. “Oh...oh ne...oh fuck...Do you think…” he pants out “they can...hear us?”

“Yes we can!” hollers WooYoung from behind the wall, his voice indicating that he’s been wanting to object since the beginning of this latest tryst. “Please stop already! We’re happy for you hyung but honestly, we’re trying to sleep too, you know?!” he elaborates. Shaking your head at WooYoung’s lack of tact, you grab Hong-Joong’s sexy, taut ass in your hands, kiss him fiercely on the lips and lift your hips to a higher angle, letting him penetrate you even further. His hips do a final dance and you feel him cum up inside you, before collapsing next to you on his back, chest heaving and one arm flung across his face, while the other pulls you close.

“Better?” you ask him, cuddling against his side.

“Mmm....ne...much better,” he affirms, sighing contentedly.

#ateez #ateez fluff #ateez smut #kim hongjoong #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong fluff #hongjoong angst #hongjoong smut #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fic

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knickynoo · 3 years

Note

You wrote about it in Harborage but now I want to know all the details: what went down during the great midterm fiasco of 1985? (In both timelines). Loving your fic, btw!

LOL, I figured that little moment might stick out and prompt questions. Glad you're enjoying the fic!

Some context for others: I headcanon Marty with ADHD & that Doc is the first one to put the pieces together regarding it. In my fic, during a conversation, Doc and Marty make reference to "The Midterm Fiasco of January 1985", which isn't elaborated on but is basically implied as being the event that prompts Doc to have a conversation with Marty regarding his suspicions.

Now, some details for you, anon. (I do have a whole backstory on it because I wrote a one-shot a while back that was similar-ish in concept, but I never posted it and probably won't at this point. So...here!) LONG post ahead...

Marty's staring down the barrel of midterm week, and he prepares accordingly by telling Doc he won't be by the garage for a while because he's going to be going straight home to study.

Doc is like, "Great, let me know if you need help," and when he doesn't see of hear from Marty, he assumes it means all is going well.

Until Marty comes flying through the garage door at full speed the weekend before his exams start, in a complete panic. He's all disheveled, and he drops his half open backpack to the ground and just sort of gives Doc this wide-eyed, deer-in-the-headlights look.

Doc figures Marty is overwhelmed or burnt out, so he assures his friend he can help and asks what subject Marty wants to focus on.

And Marty just stands there a moment and goes, "All of them." Which makes Doc go "????" because Marty's supposedly been at home studying all week, so he asks, hesitantly, if Marty has studied at all yet even though he knows the answer to that.

"Marty...what have you been doing all week??" Cue a distressed shrug from Marty and, "I DON'T KNOW."

No, really. Marty has no clue how he managed to somehow waste away the whole week, feeling stressed out of his mind but unable to open up a book. He kept telling himself he had time until oops, he's got less than two days before the tests and has done nothing.

Doc, of course, has seen this scenario before (albeit on a smaller scale with other assignments) so he calms things down first and then asks if he can take a look at Marty's exam schedule, his notes/study guides, etc.

Except...um...Marty doesn't have any of those things. He dumps out his backpack, which is pretty much just a mess of wrinkled papers, a hundred pencils, food wrappers, and probably a few things he thought he had lost a while back. Exam schedule? It's somewhere in his room. Maybe. Notes? They're sparse, and a lot of what he does have is disorganized or illegible. Study guide? HA!

After a nice, nutritious fast food meal and some time to regroup (and a trip to the McFly house so Marty can find his schedule), Doc helps him form a game plan and attempt to sort through what notes he does have, as well as zero in on the specific topics he most needs to focus on.

There's only so much Doc can do though, because Marty is attempting to cram like, 4 months worth of material into his brain at once which just...doesn't work. So, it's a very tumultuous week that Marty spends panic-studying at the garage and barely sleeping. And, as Marty is prone to do, he gets all caught up in the self-blame spiral, which does nothing to aid in his motivation.

Doc keeps helping to get him back on track, but he also kind of paces the garage, doing some work/small tasks and thinking through the whole situation. He's well aware of this familiar pattern of procrastination and last minute scrambling, as well as many of Marty's other tendencies and general quirks. The impulsiveness, the time blindness, distractibility, executive functioning issues, etc.

Doc had come across some literature on ADD a while back (which is what it was referred to as then. It was changed to ADHD in 1987) and he became fascinated with the topic, as well as the clear connection he saw to Marty. He'd kept the information to himself though, never quite sure if he should bring it up for fear of upsetting his friend and also the chance he could be wrong.

But as he stands by, listening to Marty complain and drown in stress, Doc is like, Okay, yeah, we're not doing this anymore, and sits Marty down for a chat.

He says that there could be an explanation for what's going on and slowly wades into the topic, explaining all the things he'd read and his own observations. Marty's heard of ADD, but at this point in the 80s, it's still regarded by many people as not even existing, and most cases that are acknowledged/treated are the most severe ones, primarily made up of really young kids (almost exclusively boys) who are "completely out of control" and have significant discipline problems. So, Marty sort of brushes him off at first, but as Doc continues to list facts and refer to his research, Marty can't deny that he identifies with most of the things he's hearing. Plus, he trusts that Doc wouldn't just toss something like this out there without having genuine reason to.

They talk for a really long time, and lightbulbs are just going off everywhere above Marty's head as he takes things in and is like, OH. Well...now what??

Unfortunately, because of the limited understanding of the condition by most people (and even professionals), lack of resources, and Marty's less than involved parents in the original timeline, there aren't a whole lot of viable options. So Doc turns the focus to strategies they can implement in order to help with those day to day tasks that are most difficult. But more than anything, Doc makes it clear to Marty that it doesn't make him "a slacker", that being differently wired isn't bad, and that he's incredibly bright and capable.

The conversation is a lot to take in, but it's a beneficial one. Marty is still very much Marty, and a lot of things stay the same, but feeling fully understood helps a lot. The fact that Doc is open about his own eccentricities and differences is an added bonus.

When all is said and done, Marty makes it through the whirlwind of a week with his sanity mostly intact. His grades aren't spectacular or anything, but he manages to pass every exam, and the week is soon fondly dubbed "The Midterm Fiasco of January 1985" by the both of them.

The end

Thanks for the ask!

#back to the future #bttf #marty mcfly #asks #I didn't make a distinction between the two timelines because #I think this played out pretty much the same way in both #only difference might be the level of George and Lorraine's awareness/involvement

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adminbryantsaki · 3 years

Text

ASK EVENT Open until July 31st

Hello people. I am just throwing this event out there to help bring more activity to my blog. I will be giving a list of prompts that you can pick from. Here is the list of my rules and characters I will write for. this event will be open for a month. It will be closed after July 31st

Most of the prompts are NSFW. So minors don't interact. There can be multiples of the same prompt. That's ok. Combos of prompts are ok too.

Prompts:

1. "Don't make me take you home and punish you."

2. "I never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly."

3. "You're not going out in that outfit."

4. "Don't give me that look."

5. "You're more than a one-night stand."

6. "Would you just shut up and kiss me already?"

7. "You want me to give you your book/phone/ item back? Make me."

8. "Like what you see?"

9. "Try to stay quiet, understand?"

10. "We're in public, you know?"

11. "I didn't know you were so sensitive."

12. "Don't be so brought, there can't be any marks."

13. "I really don't care. You still look hot and I'm trying to kiss/fuck you senseless right now."

14. "Are you sure? Once we start, I might not be able to stop."

15. "No, I'm supposed to be making you feel good."

16. "Make me."

17. "Stop teasing me so much."

18. "You're in trouble now."

19. "Take off your clothes."

20. "I'm waiting."

21. "First one to make a noise loses."

22. "Mine."

23. "We can't do that here!"

24. "Behave."

25. "What did you just say?"

26. "Come here."

27. "Watch me."

28. "I don't want to hear your excuses anymore."

29. "If you can't sleep... then how about we have sex?"

30. "Put that thing away!"

31. "Don't kink shame me." (Add what kink you want the character to have please.)

32. "If you interrupt me one more time, so help me God."

33. "I'm going to put clothes on before you say anything else."

34. "Tell me what you want."

35. "Bite me."

36. "If you insist."

37. "Could he make you feel as good as I do?"

38. "You're n-not, um, w-wearing anything under that, are you..?"

39. "Are you trying to turn me on or are you just that oblivious?"

40. "You fucking taste like candy."

41. "The only way you're getting off is on my thigh."

42. "You make a sound and it's game over."

43. "Just let me finish this/ this level and I swear I will go down on you until you cum three times."

44. "If I have to stop what I'm doing, you won't be able to walk for the next week."

45. "I could just push your bikini bottoms to the side, no one will notice."

46. "I haven't even touched you and you're already this wet."

47. "Were you just masturbating?"

48. "U-uh...no, I was just..."

49. "Want some help?"

50. "Shut up."

51. "Why don't you come over here and make me."

52. "You're so fucking hot when you're mad."

53. "We're not just friends and you fucking know it."

54. "C'mere, you can sit on my lap until I'm done working."

55. "What? Does that feel good?"

56. "I'm not jealous! It's just... You're mine!"

57. "If we get caught, I'm blaming you."

58. "We have to be quiet."

59. " Tell me again."

60. "You have no idea how much I want you."

61. "Say it." ( This is another 'choose the kink' option)

62. "If you don't like my teasing, then why are you moaning?"

63. "Wow, I didn't realize you were that... flexible."

64. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard that you forget you even met that asshole."

65. "You better shut that pretty little mouth before I put it to work, love."

66. "I think that's the first time I've heard you moan... It was like a fucking melody."

67. "I really want to kiss you right now."

68. "Then do it."

69. "You're not taking me to bed, ever."

70. "Who said it had to be on the bed."

71. "She may seem like lollipops and rainbows but I bet behind closed doors, she's latex and whips."

72. "Ah, he's playing hard to get. That's cute."

73. "For the love of fuck."

74. "Yep, that's me. I love to fuck."

75. "How do I look?"

76. "Would you reconsider if I was sober?"

77. "I'm sure I can get some kind of sexual gratification just from staring at him if I try hard enough."

78. "Don't fucking touch what isn't yours."

79. "You don't need to cover up the bruises/hickeys."

80. "I'm not sure if it's a sexual thing or not."

81. "We're.......Just friends."

82. "Friends don't do this kind of shit!"

83. "How quickly can you cum?"

84. "There's people here."

85. "I know."

86. "I don't care what you do, just fuck me."

87. "Fuck you."

88. "I'm up for it if you are."

89. "Don't ruin the sofa."

90. "I'll just have to cum inside you then."

91. "Stop dancing like that of I'm going to cum my pants."

92. "I'm not going to touch you unless you beg."

93. "You can't tease me like that and expect not to be punished."

94. "I'm gonna strangle you."

95. "Is that a promise?"

96. "You look a bit tied you, want me to come back later?"

97. "Stop distracting me."

98. "Were you touching yourself?"

99. "I know their stuffed animals but doesn't it feel weird? It's like they're watching us."

100. "That's probably the faster I've ever done that."

101. "Please, remind me again why we're having sex behind a tree."

102. "I know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that."

103. "We've been at it like rabbits, How are you still horny?" (ABO ish ask)

104. "It was so worth the injury though!?

105. "Saddle up, love."

106. "Did you just look me up and down and then bite your lip? 'Cause If you did, we're having sex. Right not."

107. "Your ass is going to be seven different shades of red after that little stunt."

108. "God dammit, now all i can think about is you licking my cock like that ice cream cone."

109. "If I have to pull over, you won't be able to walk for the next week."

110. "Do you think they can hear us through the tent?"

111. "Yes we can."

112. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY BED?"

Tagging: @i-panic-at-the-disco

#Yall try to find the bundle prompts #admin writes #ask me #I swear most of these are meant to be written in a bundle.#Bnha asks #Its hot and i'm bored.

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sickstarlight · 3 years

Note

E5 from the prompt list?

I’m sorry, my stomach feels funny… can we go home?

(warning in this one for reference to emetophobia!)

When he first starts to feel off, he tries his best to ignore it, chalks the uneasy feeling in his gut up to nothing more than nerves. He always does get a little anxious before a date, after all - and it doesn't help that it's a little weird, thinking of this as a date.

But he's never been the type to let his nerves get the better of him, so he pushes down the butterflies in his stomach and keeps getting ready, trying not to think too hard about it. There's no reason it should be different from any other date, with any other handsome, disheveled bastard he'd met any other way.

By the time he gets to Seaside, though, the queasy feeling in the pit of his stomach hasn't subsided, and he's beginning to worry it might be more than anxiety that's making him feel a little ill.

Royce, it turns out, is already there when he arrives, sitting out on the patio overlooking the bay, a cigarette in his mouth, his fingers tapping anxiously against the edge of the table. Auden breathes a sigh of relief, glad he's not the first one there, and hurries over to the table.

"Hey," he says, trying to sound casual, and pulls out the chair opposite Royce. "Mind if I sit down?"

"Oh, oh, ah, hello, hi," Royce says as he looks up, clearly flustered. "Please, um, have a seat, yes."

At least he's not the only one who's nervous, Auden thinks, though it doesn't make him feel much better. He sits down, leaning against the table for support and hoping Royce can't tell. "How are you doing?" he asks, reaching into his pocket for a cigarette of his own.

"Fine, yes, fine," Royce says, fidgeting with the sleeves of his coat. "I'm, ah, quite alright, thank you." A faint smile flickers across his face, one corner of his mouth turning up slightly before he looks away, his cheeks a little flushed.

Auden grins back, his discomfort momentarily forgotten amidst the satisfaction of getting Royce to blush. "Glad to hear it," he says, fishing his lighter out of his pocket with one hand while he rests his chin against the other.

"And you, yourself, how are you doing?" Royce asks after a moment, as if suddenly remembering his manners.

Auden laughs and takes a drag of his cigarette. "Not bad," he says, exhaling a thin stream of smoke. "Good to see you."

"Yes, it's, ah, it's -" Royce stammers, still avoiding his eyes. "Good to see you, too, very good."

Auden's started to feel better after all by the time they've ordered lunch, and he sips slowly at his drink while they wait for their food to arrive. Maybe he'd just needed some fresh air, he thinks, relieved; fresh air and the sound of the water always does help clear his head. "So, what have you been working on lately?" he prompts, breaking the comfortable silence, and sees Royce animate instantly, his eyes lighting up as he leans forward against the table. Auden can't help grinning, settling back in his chair to listen as Royce starts to explain his current project.

He doesn’t feel iffy again until after he’s started eating, but a third of the way through his lunch, he realizes that the grilled seafood he’d ordered seems awfully heavy in his stomach. Slowly, he sets his fork down to nibble at his side of toast instead, hoping it’ll help settle his uneasy belly. A burp bubbles up into his throat, and he covers his mouth with one hand to stifle it.

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly when Royce pauses, and rubs the back of his neck. “Guess I are a little fast.”

It’s a good thing Royce is more than happy to talk about his work uninterrupted, he thinks, because he’s not too sure it’s a good idea to talk too much himself right now. Instead he just listens intently, nodding to let Royce know he’s still paying attention, and alternates taking bites of his toast and small sips of water. He’s only half finished with the whiskey lemonade he’d gotten, but he doesn’t think any more alcohol is going to help settle his stomach.

The toast and water don’t really seem to be doing that, either, though; he can still feel his insides churning, and it’s making it hard to pay attention to what Royce is saying. He tries to be surreptitious as he slips one hand under his shirt to press against his gut, hoping maybe he can soothe the bubbling feeling in his queasy belly.

He’s so focused on calming his stomach that it takes him a second to notice that Royce has lapsed into silence. “Huh?” he asks, looking up as he realizes how quiet it is. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re, ah,” Royce says, watching him intently. “You’re not.... enjoying this. Not having a good time.”

“I am!” he says quickly, his eyes going wide. “Of course I am, that’s not...”

“You don’t seem.... interested,” Royce adds, and looks away, his fingers tapping the table restlessly.

The guilt that sinks into the pit of his stomach does nothing to make Auden feel better. “It’s not that,” he says with a sigh. “It’s just - I’m sorry, my stomach feels funny.” He swallows hard against a wave of nausea and bites his lower lip until it hurts. “Can.... can we go home?”

“Oh,” Royce says, his face going a shade paler. “You, you never, you didn’t say anything, could have said something about it before now...”

“I didn’t wanna freak you out,” Auden mumbles, hunching his shoulders. “And I was kinda hoping I’d feel better.”

"I - ah - well," Royce falters. "I appreciate... your concern. Though if you'd said, we could have, lots of other things we could have done, rather than lunch if you're, ah, if you're feeling poorly, and I can't imagine the drinks have helped. Can't imagine that's helped, much, at all."

"Not really," he admits, wishing Royce hadn't reminded him as a quiet burp forces its way up and brings the taste of alcohol back into his mouth. "Sorry, Royce, I didn't wanna let it mess up our date, but--"

He breaks off with a wince as his stomach gurgles loudly; he can feel everything he's eaten shifting uncomfortably in his gut, threatening to come back up if he makes a wrong move. Sweat beads up across his brow and prickles at the back of his neck.

"You, uh," he manages weakly, and swallows hard. "You should probably go."

“I don’t, ah, don’t, don’t want...” Royce stammers, and hesitates. “To leave you... alone. If you’re not... well.”

“Real sweet of you,” Auden says, “but I - urp - I think I might throw up, and I know you’re not gonna want to be around to see that.”

“But, trying to get home by yourself, that seems,” Royce says slowly. “Well, not very wise, I’d say, wouldn’t you? Not... the wisest decision you could make.”

“Can’t say I didn’t warn you,” Auden groans, clutching his upset stomach. Discomfort has swelled into full blown nausea by now, and he’s not entirely sure that just getting to his feet won’t be enough to make him spew his lunch all over the paving stones. Still, he grits his teeth and grabs the edge of the table to help pull himself upright, and manages to keep himself together despite the acidic taste crawling up the back of his throat.

“Let me - help... you,” Royce says uncertainly, stepping in to take his arm. “You don’t look, ah, don’t look very steady, wouldn’t want for you to fall.” He manages a nervous, shaky laugh, and adds, “Just do... try to warn me, alright, if you’re about to...”

"Do my best," he agrees through gritted teeth, and starts walking towards the open gate to leave the patio.

It’s usually a ten minute walk back to his place, but he walks slowly right now, hoping that he can keep the contents of his stomach under control if he just moves carefully enough. It’s a losing battle, though, and they’ve barely made it two blocks when a wave of nausea makes him double over, clutching his stomach.

“Oh,” says Royce, his voice strained. “Do you, ah, do you need to...?”

“I need to sit down,” Auden groans, his legs going weak as his stomach churns unhappily. Without waiting for a reply he sinks to the ground and leans forward to put his head between his knees, trying very hard to keep his breathing steady.

A sick gurgle starts deep in his belly, and crawls upward as a bubble of sour air forces its way up his throat to come out as a wet, queasy belch. No matter how carefully he tries to breathe, he’s pretty sure he’s going to puke any second now. He lets his mouth hang open while he waits, saliva pooling under his tongue until it fills his mouth and drips to the ground at his feet. Another watery belch escapes him, followed by a stream of thin brown liquid that spatters onto the pavement.

“Sorry,” he manages weakly, and spits on the ground, trying to get the taste of vomit out of his mouth. Before he can recover, though, his stomach heaves again and he’s burping up a thicker stream of sick onto the street between his shoes, choking a little as the masticated remains of his toast makes a reappearance.

“You, ah, you don’t - have - to apologize,” Royce says, though he sounds a little ill himself. When Auden dares to lift his head a little, he sees Royce with his back turned, head tipped back to avert his gaze from the ground entirely.

“Think I’m alright now,” Auden manages weakly, though he’s not sure how long the reprieve will last. “Just.... just give me a minute.”

“Do you, ah, do you need... a hand?” Royce offers, chancing a wary glance in his direction. “If you do need, a little help, I can...”

“I’m okay,” Auden says, trying to reassure him. Royce doesn’t look reassured, but Auden manages to get back to his feet, careful not to step into the pool of vomit on the ground between his shoes. He doesn't feel quite as nauseous, but his legs feel like jelly, and he finds himself, without thinking about it, holding onto Royce's arm for support. Royce, to his surprise, doesn't pull away.

"Alright, then, come on, come on," he says, waiting for Auden to steady himself before he starts walking again. "Let's get you home, hurry up and get you home where you can rest."

#this got so much longer than i meant it to annd editing it on mobile fucked it up so badly #i fixed it but G-D!!!#transicktor #emeto fic #sickfic #no one on earth ships this but me and my qp and his bf but thats just alright.

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lovelyirony · 4 years

Note

hey girlie! so i have another prompt! i would really like your take on the avengers first few weeks/months/year together and how things changed and how they learned to really trust each other and the different, perhaps unexpected, bonds that grew! just some fun almost 2012-esque fluff uwu? (but if you made it angst, i would not complain. you do you) thank you!

Tony took one look at Fury.

“No.”

“Stark, where the hell else are they gonna go?”

“Idaho!” Tony says. “Hulk can leap a ton, he’ll get to New York in about ten minutes with all of them hanging off his back. It’ll be fine.”

Director Fury wants to use Tony’s place of residence as a way to hold the Avengers. As if Tony is just this Amazing, Fantastic Man Who Can Definitely Hold the Avengers in a Building.

He calls Pepper because he knows that they’ll show up. He needs reinforced glass and he needs to start testing just how well his coffee machine can hold up, or if he needs to build an entirely new one.

He probably needs a new one.

Rhodey, understandably, is a bit pissed.

“What, so Fury just decided ‘haha fuck you take these poor souls in’?” Rhodey asks. Tony sighs, flopping down on the couch.

“Essentially, yes. Because apparently, I have better resources to contain them.”

“Military spends over six hundred billion for their budget alone, and SHIELD really thinks you’re the only one who has resources?”

“I’m the only one sharing them,” Tony says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Do you think that they need healthcare? Steve might need healthcare, I’m not even sure if the serum would allow that…”

“You are not giving them healthcare, I don’t care how nice you are,” Rhodey says. “They can do it themselves since they’re ruining fruit pizza night.”

Fuck.

Clint is shouldering one duffle bag, another bag that he’s trying to keep still, and looking at Natasha, who is staring up at the garish “A” that was put back up after the fight.

“You think this’ll be fine?” Clint asks.

“No.” And just like that, Natasha walks in, like this has always been her home.

The elevator is weird. Clint’s not used to a functional elevator, and realizes that he’ll have to add arm workouts because he won’t have to pry himself from the elevator doors anymore.

He doesn’t know where the gym is. He also doesn’t know how seriously Tony takes coffee.

Steve is…well they told him that he has a room available at Stark Tower, but he’s not entirely sure that he should go.

The apartment in Brooklyn is just fine, even if the rent is too damn expensive. It’s a shoe box of a place, but as long as he can have a bed and a window he’s fine.

“You’re so sad,” Natasha says to him on the phone. He appreciates texting, but it seems that everyone thinks his poor 1940s sensibilities are still ingrained. To some aspect they are, but he also realized that looking at videos of people falling for twenty minutes is hilarious. Everyone else thinks he’s doing something else. He is not.

But he doesn’t want to move. He just got here. And he keeps talking to people who aren’t there.

(He asked Bucky if he still wanted bacon that morning.

He’s not there.)

Fury insists on it.

“You’re under SHIELD,” he says. “And besides, it’ll be good for Stark to finally have someone who’s on his…level.”

“What do you mean by that, Sir?”

“He has an ego. Needs to be taken down a few pegs.”

Steve nods. He’s not completely sure that he agrees with that. Tony flew under giant jet propellers, flew into the sky for what needed to be done. It was death, he knew that.

(Oh, he knew it a bit too well. Sent ice down his spine as a reminder for how well he knows it.)

But he grabs his things because he’s anything if not a good rule-follower, according to history.

He just leaves a bit of a mess for Fury to deal with in the form of “oh, those gosh-darn-new-fangled washing machines! I don’t know what I did. I put spaghetti sauce in the dish detergent area I thought that’s where extra food went!”

Steve knows for a damn fact that that’s not where food goes. He just likes letting them know that he’s not some “how high do I jump, Sir?” kind of guy.

He stares up at the big, ugly tower. Well…here goes nothing.

Thor was actually pretty okay with sleeping on a couch. He was not expecting a bedroom of his own, so when Tony told him?

Thor hugs him.

“Thank you,” he says, smiling. “Your kindness stretches for miles.”

“Um…you’re welcome?” Tony questions, subconsciously rubbing his own arms, as if he can’t believe that someone else hugged him.

“I have a question about human advancement,” Thor says, changing the subject. “I…you guys haven’t figured out my sort of transportation, correct?”

“I didn’t even know we could do that,” Tony says, eyes going wide. “Does it rearrange your cells? Do you have to think about it? How dangerous is it?”

Thor grins, setting down his bag and resting at the kitchen counter. He’ll be ready to talk about this for a while.

Bruce comes into the Tower as quietly as possible, not wanting to cause any huge sort of fuss.

This doesn’t matter when Tony finds him and visibly brightens. Thor is already sitting at the kitchen. He looks surprisingly domestic, just in jeans and a worn t-shirt.

“I didn’t know you went shopping,” Bruce remarked.

“Have to fit in with your mortals somehow,” Thor jokes. “Good to see you again, Doctor.”

“Just call me Bruce,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “What have you guys been talking about?”

“Interdimensional travel. Tony’s betting he can perfect it in under a year,” Thor says.

Bruce looks to Tony.

“You sure about that?”

“So long as you help me,” Tony teases.

The team being together is…awkward. Tony is not used to people living in his house, so he forgets to amend his usual…habits.

Rhodey is used to them, but currently he is overseas on a “top secret” mission. Tony knows all, because that’s the type of friend he can be. He’s sending Rhodey a postcard, addressed to the exact location. Rhodey’s superiors will be furious, unless if it’s one of the older ones.

But Tony is not used to other people being present for his breakfast shenanigans, so he’s in an old tank top that is stained with grease, and he’s humming as he’s flitting around the kitchen, turning on the coffeepot without so much as a thought.

When he turns, he sees Clint.

“You’re a morning person?” Clint asks, eyes as wide as can be.

“You are also up at six in the morning,” Tony says. “So I think that qualifies you as well.”

“Had it not been for SHIELD, neither of us get up before eleven,” Natasha says. “Like the rag you call a shirt, Stark. Suits you.”

Tony pokes out his tongue, taking a swig of coffee.

“You’re just jealous,” Tony says. “I make this look like it could be four hundred dollars.”

Clint groans.

“I’m mad that you’re right,” Clint says. “Hey, quick question. How averse are you to me using your coffeepot?”

“I’m done, go for it,” Tony says. “Thank you for asking, I appreciate it.”

Clint brings out a bag of coffee that Tony was banned from about two years ago.

Pepper does not need to know that.

“If I give you money, will you buy more of this?” Tony says, eyes wide.

“Um, yeah?” Clint says. “This is the only coffee that wakes me up in the morning.”

“Why can’t you buy it?” Natasha asks, suspicious. “Were you banned?”

“Sir was, indeed, banned from the substance,” Jarvis intercedes, smoothly. Natasha jumps a bit. “I would highly advise against buying it for him, as that would induce the wrath of Ms. Potts.”

“Spoilsport,” Tony pouts. “Clint, I will make you a custom-bow with the perfect measurements and full custom design. I would even deign to put any logo on it that you wanted.”

“So if I wanted it to be themed, you’d do it?”

“Yes.”

“Worth it. I also don’t fear death by a powerful woman, it’s in my Top Five Ways to Die list,” Clint says with a shrug.

Steve is used to living with other people. He was in the army, after all, and guys slept about three feet apart. He had thought he would see it all.

This is until he walks in to see Bruce and Natasha in a staredown, hands clasped in an arm-wrestling pose.

“What are the stakes?” Steve asks.

“There are communal strawberries on the line,” Bruce says, not blinking. “And I am going to eat them. Natasha seems to think that she will be taking them to her room.”

“Why not buy more?” Steve asks, settling into the bar with his sketchpad.

“Because that’s the route for pacifists,” Natasha answers.

“Bruce, are you not a pacifist?” Steve asks, raising eyebrows.

“Technically? Yes,” Bruce says. His arm is shaking with effort. “But when fruit is involved that tends to…ebb.”

“I’m going to leave,” Steve says slowly. “I am scared.”

He hears a thump on his way out, a curse from Natasha, and then Bruce passes by him with a huge box of strawberries, cackling maniacally as Natasha rushes after him.

Steve laughs.

Thor raises an eyebrow as Bruce launches himself into his room, shutting the door.

“Do you know what’s going on?”

“Strawberry fights. Very serious thing,” Steve asks, grinning. “Wanna take a bet on if Natasha gets in?”

“She will,” Thor answers. “But twenty bucks says she does it in ten minutes.”

“Twenty minutes for me. You’re on,” Steve counters.

Of course, it isn’t all violets and roses. Steve and Tony fight like cats and dogs, and Bruce gets short with people.

Natasha doesn’t like talking feelings, and Clint would rather launch himself off a building than deal with any sort of threat that is adulthood.

Thor…Thor is older significantly. He’s just dealing with mortal life and how quickly it goes by and the truth behind his father’s reign of Asgard.

The team, gets through it. But not without a few hard knocks.

One of the first moments of bonding as a team is due to the ever-heated-debate of pineapple.

Natasha, Tony, Bruce, and Thor are on the side of “acceptable.”

Clint and Steve are on the side of “simply terrible and the absolute worst.”

Steve comes up to bat first with the line of “I ate war rations that were better than this shit.”

Bruce has nothing to add other than “my self-esteem directly correlates to pineapple on pizza.”

“I don’t know what that means, but! I think if we put pineapple on pizza then you guys can’t argue when I make my food.”

“You think putting cheese-sticks instead of shredded cheese on pizza is acceptable,” Tony says. “I have trust issues because of that. They didn’t even melt right!”

“I thought you were all about admitting to mistakes, Mr. Sorry-I-Accused-the-Whole-Team-of-Stealing-My-Kiwi-When-it-was-Rhodey,” Clint teases.

“Speaking of, what is Rhodey’s opinion on this?” Steve asks. “I bet he hates pineapple!”

“We are not bringing him into this,” Tony says quickly.

“I’m calling him,” Clint says.

“How do you have his number?”

“I’m Hawkeye. I see all.”

“You couldn’t even see the name of ‘Bruce Banner’ on top of my Murtabak.”

“How am I expected to read that shitty doctor language? Anyways, you should be grateful that I ate it because my toes curled because of the spice.”

“You can’t handle the spice!”

“You’re right!”

From there, it dissolves into giggles and laughs.

Tony orders pizza, and they all sit around the common room, debating over what is the least acceptable topping (other than pineapple in some settings).

They end up debating over sardines next, which Steve says “aren’t the worst.”

Natasha says broccoli, which is agree upon. Broccoli should not go on pizza.

Steve draws a little picture of Clint and Tony arguing, complete with gesticulating hands and the little t-shirt details of Clint.

Thor hangs it up on the fridge.

“This is now where we hang accomplishments,” Thor says gravely. “I saw it in a show. Do people actually do that here?”

“Don’t ask me,” Steve says. “I just got a fridge this century. Didn’t have one growing up. Too poor in the Depression.”

“I can’t believe you and me both lived in a Depression,” Bruce says thoughtfully.

“Bruce, you were born in the–” Steve stops for a moment. “Oh. Now that’s a neat joke.”

Bruce snorts.

The fridge is stacked with sticky notes that are usually petty in nature, although Tony allows his good stationary to be used for good accomplishments.

The Petty Messages are as Follows:

Bruce managed to share blueberries with Natasha and not bitch about it the whole duration. Incredible. -Nat.

Thor actually didn’t monopolize the aux cord and play his super shitty playlist that is full of bad 2000s music. -Tony

Tony withstood the whole duration of American Classic “Don’t Go Chasing Waterfalls” and only winced once. -Thor.

Steve managed to be tolerable for more than three hours. -Bruce

Clint is a Good Guy Who Deserves Good Things -Natasha

Even though she wrote that drunk she’s right lmao -Clint

The Excellent Messages are as Follows:

Tony actually opened up and told us what was bothering him so we could address it! -Clint and Bruce

Thor helped Natasha with her furniture and helped us calm down from IKEA instructions. -Steve

Bruce kicked the government’s ass. -Everyone on the team plus Maria and Fury

Steve tried to roller skate and provided wholesome content when he was gripping the wall but also bonded with the team. -Natasha

Clint baked cookies!!!!!!!!! And didn’t burn the tower down!!!!! -Tony

Rhodey finally let us make fruit pizza and shared his music playlists. -Thor

Natasha helped with group therapy today and opened up. It was amazing and I love her so much for that. -Bruce

The team grows closer, due to many reasons. But most of all, it is because they kept trying, which is very important. Even when they wanted to rip their hair out and they said the wrong things, they were still there and circling back around to make an apology.

So when they’re out for battle, they don’t worry if someone won’t have their back. Hulk will be there with outstretched palm, Iron Man will be there with a quick joke and open arms, Black Widow will be there with deadly skill. Hawkeye will be there with the most accurate aim in the world, Thor will be there with thunderous force, and Captain America will have a shield and protection.

But Bruce will be there when they need a joke and calm reassurance. Tony will be there to share his endless affection and touch. Natasha will be there with sound logic, a smile, and soft sweaters. Thor will be there with stories of old, energetic reassurance, and a strong and reliant personality. Steve will be there with art and words that go unsaid but not unheard.

That, perhaps, is the most important.

#LLLLLOOOOOOONNNNGGGGG #tony stark #rhodey #ironhusbands #ish #avengers as a family #natasha romanoff #bruce banner #thor #steve rogers #clint barton #iron man #black widow #captain america #hawkeye #hulk #anyways yes they BOND and are GOOD together #lovelyirony writes #tsatkes is a godsend

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thepancakeboi · 3 years

Text

34. “We live together. You can’t blame this on anyone else.”

Spending the holidays with someone else is not something I am used to. Years and years of being alone will do that to a person. Yet here I am, spending Christmas with my fiance, Ren. I couldn’t ask for a better way to celebrate Christmas.

Even if I can already predict that said fiance will be more of a menace than usual.

It isn’t our first Christmas together, of course, but this is the first time we will be celebrating it as more than boyfriends. It’s also the first time it’ll be just the two of us. Ann has continuously texted me how she was spending the holiday season with Shiho (images included), Yusuke and Ryuji are at the latter’s home, and I think I remember Ren telling me how Haru was planning on taking Makoto somewhere fancy. Even Morgana isn’t going to be home, deciding the idea of being with Sojiro, Futaba, and Sumire is a better way to spend his time. I suspect that Futaba had also bribed him with sushi. Not that I am about to complain about his absence.

I arrive home after some last-minute shopping to find Ren sprawled out on the couch, absentmindedly batting at the white pompom of the Santa hat he’s wearing. He looks up and immediately grins. “Akeppi!” he says, happy as can be.

“Someone’s being quite productive with his time,” I remark sarcastically.

“Hey, I’ve been very busy.”

“Doing what? Acting like the cat of the house since Morgana isn’t around to fill that role?”

“No.” He pauses for a moment to think before a mischievous smirk crosses his face. Standing up to approach me, he continues, “I’ve been checking the naughty and nice list...and you’ve been very naughty.”

He wraps his arms around my waist, his smirk widening as he notices my blush. His head is tilted down and he looks seductively up at me from under his glasses. Damn, he looks beautiful. It takes me a few seconds to finally respond, “Ren, you’re not Santa.”

“Am I not?”

“No, you’re not, and if anyone’s being the naughty one, it’s you.”

“Oh. Guess I better take this off,” he adds. He casually tosses the hat to the side and pulls a sprig of mistletoe seemingly out of thin air.

“Ren, no.”

He holds the mistletoe over our heads, looking quite smug. “Kith kith?”

Of course, he wants a kiss. Of course. “That’s not how it is supposed to work.”

“Come on. Humor me, Akeppi.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help but smile. “Fine, but only because you’re-”

Ren doesn’t even give me a chance to finish. He has his invitation and he’s taking it before I can change my mind. Not that I would have, mind you. He finally pulls away after several seconds, although I can tell he doesn’t really want to. I know how he is. Given the opportunity, he would keep kissing me all day. “Can I have another?”

“Not with that piece of mistletoe, you’re not.” He pouts a little as I take the mistletoe away from him. Other than that, he doesn’t seem too bothered by it.

In retrospect, perhaps that should have clued me in that something was up.

Ren follows me as I go to throw away the mistletoe. Just as soon as I do, he says, “Hey, Akeppi.”

“What is it, Ren?”

“Look up.”

My gaze follows the direction of his pointing to see a piece of mistletoe identical to the first one hanging from the ceiling. I sigh, resigning myself to whatever game Ren is playing. “Let me guess. You want another kiss.”

“Yup!”

“Very well. One kiss.”

He immediately pulls me into a much more passionate kiss than before. This time, I’m the one to pull away first. He doesn’t seem to care; in fact, he’s grinning happily at his success.

Satisfied, Ren begins to prepare a cake for later tonight. When I offer to help, he says, “No. We all know what happened last time.”

“It wasn’t that terrible of an incident.”

“You nearly set Leblanc on fire!”

“You’re overexaggerating,” I grumble. “It was a small fire.”

“No it wasn’t, you liar!” he replies, laughing at my expense. I hate that he’s right. We both remember that day all too well. Sojiro, needless to say, was not pleased when he found out. “If you really want to help, can you go get me the flour? At least you can’t cause a fire doing that.”

“Maybe I will just to spite you.”

“Go ahead. It won’t be hotter than the fire that is my love for you.”

“Of course, you would.” He snickers as I turn around to get the flour. I decide that the flour will remain fire-free today. As I turn to give it to him, I notice there’s yet another piece of mistletoe that had definitely not been there a few seconds ago. “You have to be joking.”

He looks up in clearly fake surprise at the mistletoe. “Does that mean I get another kiss?”

“I suppose so.” This kiss is decidedly shorter than the others, almost as if he’s teasing me with it. I refuse to acknowledge the fact that I wish he would have kissed me longer. I will not be the one who asks him for a kiss. No way.

The time passes by rather quickly. Just being in Ren’s presence tends to do that. He finally is done with the prep work and leaves it to finish baking. He then takes my hand in his as he leads me out of the kitchen. However, he suddenly stops and glances up. I don’t even need to look to know what it is. “Ren-”

“Yeah?”

“This is becoming ridiculous.”

“What is?”

“How much mistletoe did you hang around the house?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I did no such thing.”

“Ren, we live together. You can’t blame this on anyone else.”

“Could’ve been Morgana.”

“Morgana hasn’t been here all day, and I know when I left this morning, there was no mistletoe whatsoever. How many are there?”

“Um...a few?”

“A few,” I repeat, my slight annoyance probably showing. I’m starting to get tired of this game. “This is the fourth one so far.”

“You’re wrong. It’s the third.”

“No, it’s four.”

“Three. I was holding the first one.”

“Whatever,” I reply, refusing to admit he’s right. “You just have to be a menace, don’t you?”

Cue immediate menace smile from Ren. “Yes, but I’m your menace.”

“You want a kiss? Fine.” I don’t know where my impulsiveness is coming from, but before I know it, my lips are pressed against his, fingers tangled in his fluffy hair.

The kiss is, for lack of better words, messy. I’m not the one to usually take the initiative nor did I think my actions through. But when I pull back, it’s worth seeing the complete shock on Ren’s blushing face. He didn’t see that coming. “Did you...want to kiss me?”

“No, of course not.”

He smirks, seeing right through my lie. “You did too,” he hums, wrapping his arms around me so that I can’t walk away like I normally would.

“You have no proof.”

“I never said I wanted a kiss this time. You kissed me.”

“So what? It’s clear you wanted a kiss.”

“You never kiss me unless you want to.”

“That’s not the case.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

“Because I always am wanting to kiss you!” I blurt before I can stop myself. Oh, how the tables have turned. “You did not hear that from me.”

“Did too. You said you want to kiss me all the time.” He leans in closer as he whispers softly in my ear, “I could kiss you again...if you want.”

“I...guess I could allow it.”

“No, no.” His voice lowers into that sexy tone of his as he asks again, “Do you want me to kiss you?”

“...Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Alright, yes! I do.”

Pleased with my response, he cups my face in his hands before kissing me. I don’t want the moment to end. Unfortunately, breathing is a necessity for life. “Do you wanna cuddle?” Ren asks.

“Why? Is there more mistletoe I don’t know about yet?”

“There...might be a few more.”

I shake my head, chuckling at the response. Of course, he had more than I’ve seen. That doesn’t matter anymore. I find myself wanting to find the remaining ones, but that can wait. “We can cuddle, yes.”

People say it’s best to spend the holidays with someone you love. Before, I would have laughed at the notion. It would have sounded foolish. But now that I’m here in Ren’s arms, I suddenly see how true it is. There really is no other way I would rather spend Christmas than with my beautiful menace.

Prompt list Also based on this post

#akeppi writes #p5 #persona 5 #p5r #persona 5 royal #p5r spoilers #persona 5 royal spoilers #goro akechi #akechi #ren amamiya #akira kurusu #akeshu #shuake #writing prompt #christmas is here!#and what better way to celebrate than with a prompt of my favorite ship?#just a dumb idea that came to me #ren is a menace #mistletoe kisses

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paulsmashedpotato · 4 years

Note

hi there! um . . . . if you're not too busy, would you please write something with john lennon, and 62 & 23 from the prompt list? thinking angsty w/ something happy at the end but you can decide :) hope you're well 💛

I'm sorry this took like four or more days, you probably forgot you even requested from me (╯︵╰,)

Masterlist

Prompt List

I Like You!

Pairing: John Lennon x reader

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: None!

Note: Eric's a random name/character for the story!

"John!" You called your closest friend from Biology class as you spotted him walking out from their lecture hall. His face lightened up when he saw you. "Hi," he greeted back, taking your bag from you and hanging it on his shoulder. "You finished early today."

You nodded. "Our Prof had to leave early for a meeting."

You and John had been friends since first year when he sat next to you in Biology and found out you had a few similar subjects to take. You were now both in your last year and even though you only had one common subject now, you were still really close. He's been walking home with you since the week you became friends and you even get lunch together if your schedules met.

"I bought a new movie tape, you wanna watch it with me tonight?" He asked, tilting his head down a bit to look at you. You pursed your lips before sighing. "Can't," you said, "seeing a friend tonight."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "Who?"

"Eric," you answered, slightly sheepish, not even noticing his expression. "Eric? That guy on the third seat on the front row?" You slowly nodded. "I thought we agreed he had the worst haircut?"

You giggled. "That was first year, John. I thought I'd give him a chance, he's the only one who ever showed interest in me." John wrinkled his nose in disagreement. "You'd rather go see Eric than watch a movie with your friend, really?"

"I mean, he might be a potential boyfriend. I can't risk that," you jokingly said. "Besides, we'll be dating someone in the future, we won't always be able to do things together," you paused to look at him, he was just mindlessly looking at every person that walked past the two of you. "Think of now as a... practice or something."

"Not if you'll be my girlfriend and I'll be your boyfriend."

You choke on air, letting out a dry cough as you looked at him. "What?" You laughed. "That's so unrealistic."

He pressed his lips together. "Right. Haha." You walked to the bus stop together and you took your bag from him there, he looked down at you. "Why'd you take it?"

"I won't be coming home with you today," you said. "You should go ahead." He didn't say anything, he just gave you a nod and a small smile. He lifted his hand to show you a hesitant wave before getting in the bus.

You were going to walk away when you heard John shout your name, you turned to see him sticking his head out the bus. "I have to tell you something really important! Come on!" He invited. "I can't, John —"

"Please." He smiled sadly. You worriedly looked at him and then at the last person who was about to get on, trying to make a quick decision.

"Ahhh! Fine!" You panicked, running towards the bus door just in time before it closed. You ran to where he was seated and plopped down beside him. "It better be important!" You said. "I'm ditching a date for you."

He let out air through his nose as if laughing silently. "It's very important."

"What is it?" You asked. He frowned. "Can we wait when we get home?"

"Your home or mine?"

"Mine?" He said unsure, he looked at you as if asking if it was alright with you, you nodded. "Longer ride then," you sighed, fixing your bag on your lap and leaning on his shoulder.

There was a short few minutes of silence that felt like forever before he talked again. "Remember when I gave you that stuffed toy you said you really liked back at the carnival?"

You lightly nodded. "I sleep with it every night since then," you giggled. "Thanks for that again."

"D'you know why I gave you that?" He asked quietly. You hummed and nodded, "Yeah. 'Cause you're the best friend in the world and you said I deserved it because I'm also the best person in the world and you really liked me."

"Yeah... I like you, y/n," he muttered. You sat up and playfully punched him, playing coy. "Aww, I like you too, dum-dum, you know that."

He shook his head. "No, like, like you... Like you. I like you."

"I like, like you, like you too," you giggled, playfully rolling your eyes."Why would we still be friends if I didn't like you?"

"No, I love you, Y/n. That's a deeper word and I don't know how else to let you know."

"What d'you mean?"

"Aww, I love you too, John," you cooed. "Tell you that everyday."

He groaned, leaning back on his seat and dramatically sliding to the side and hitting his head gently on the window. "It's so hard to admit to you!"

"I'd say I really, really love you and you'll still think I'm saying it as a friend," he quietly said, looking outside the window. You wrinkled your eyebrows but your face softened again when you processed what he said.

You never looked at everything he was doing to/for you with romantic intentions — purely as a friend. You didn't like assuming and he's never really said anything about it so you thought he really was just being a friend. Besides, you two were really, really close so you were comfortable telling each other everything even I love yous as a friend.

"Sorry, it's so weird," he said, putting his hand up to the side of his head to cover his face. "So you like-like me? Like, as a potential partner — not as a friend?" You asked, pulling his hand down.

"Ahhh.... Pffffff —" he huffed. "Yeah — I mean, why not? You're the best person I've ever met."

You smiled sweetly. "You really mean that? Not just because I'm your friend?"

"Yeah — wait, did you think I was only saying that because you were my friend? Y/n, I'd think you're perfect even if we weren't friends. Everyone loves you."

You just smiled, not really knowing how else to respond. He sat properly and sighed, "So... Are you still going to that date with uh... with Eric?"

You looked up the roof of the bus then smiled at him. "I think the movie with you is better."

He felt a huge load lift off his shoulders and he breathed out the air he didn't even realize he was holding in. "Good, then. I don't like him so stay away from him," he mumbled. You giggled, leaning back on his shoulder. "If you told me how you felt sooner, I wouldn't have entertained him."

"Hey — I've been trying to tell you since the first year we were friends — you kept replying with, Aww, I like you too, John. I'm happy you're my friend too, John. I wanna spend my life with you too, John, imagine your kids and my kids being best friends too."

"Oh shut up, how am I supposed to know those words meant more as a friend?" You rolled your eyes, lightly pinching his arm. "You couldn't even hold my hand."

"How was I supposed to know you wanted your hand to be held — it would be weird if I just took your hand considering we were just friends."

"Well, if you asked sooner —"

"It doesn't matter, we're good now," he said, cutting your rant off. "So is tonight our first official date?"

You nodded with a huge smile. He took your hand and intertwined his fingers with yours, his thumb running up and down the back of your hand. "I like this," he said, almost whispering. He leaned his head on yours. "I like this too."

"I like you," he ssaid sotto voce. You brought your other hand up to his head and messed his hair. "I like you too, John."

Sorry for typos beep boop beep boop I'll make sure to edit!

-end-

Will add the keep reading option once I get a hold of my laptop — my sister's using it for online class ಠ_ಠ Sorry if this long ass text passed by your dashboard.

#this took so long please forgive me #thank you for suggesting you brought me back to life #your suggestion is actually what made me remember #to write that last Rami ask #so thank you #Anyway proper tags aHHh #john lennon #john lennon x reader #john winston lennon #lennon #the beatles x reader #the beatles

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shrinkthisviolet · 4 years

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Author Interview Tag!

Tagged by @maipreciation, thanks for thinking of me! This looks really fun :D

(Note: I’m keeping this as a running list, so if you’re ever wondering what fics im working on/brainstorming, make sure to check here! Last update was on 12/12/2020)

Name: Lavi! As of 12/5, I’m no longer going by my real name (see this post)

Fandoms: so many 😂 check my bio, I think I have them all listed. I’ve posted fic for Hamilton and ATLA, and then there was a huge Inktober compilation I posted last year with a whole host of fandoms. Currently, my major fandom is ATLA, and probably Kipo as I’m starting to move through S1

Where you post: I have an AO3 (lavi0123)! I used to have an FFN and a Wattpad, but I don’t use either of those anymore :/ tbh, I’m embarrassed of anything I still have up there 😂

Most popular one-shot: Most definitely we’ll give the world to you (and you’ll blow us all away), one of my contributions to Maiko Week! I’m not surprised it’s an ATLA fic, but I find it interesting that a fic with Izumi in it blew up so quickly. But hey, if y’all want more Izumi content, you won’t be disappointed 😉

Most popular multi-chapter fic: ...I’m really embarrassed to say because I don’t think I’ll ever finish it...but En Hamilton Heights is the only multichap fic I’ve published so it’s gotta be that one 😂 hopefully soon I’ll have another fic to add to that, since I’m working on one (sorry EHH fans but it’s been too long and tbh I don’t remember where I was going with it :/ I’m thinking I might orphan it)

Favorite story you’ve written so far: you think this world is a dream come true (but you’re wrong) for sure! It’s super niche but it’s something I wrote out of love for a movie I discovered this Halloween and absolutely love. Though all you’ve got to do is want something (and then let yourself have it) is a close second. Basically, anything I write that sounds absolutely bonkers as a concept is one that I love 😂 (and it’s no coincidence that both fics are Mai-centric! I love all my Mai-centric fics nearly equally)

Fic you were nervous to post: Is there an “all of the above” option? 😂 I’m always nervous to post. But in particular, I was nervous for if you ran away (come back home), because it was Mai-centric and longer than any one-shot I’d written thus far, and also you think this world is a dream come true (but you’re wrong), because it’s Mai-centric and a Coraline AU, which makes it BONKERS as an idea

Why was I nervous to post Mai-centric fics, you ask? Two reasons: 1) Mai is very different from who I am as a person (I vibe a lot more with Aang and Ty Lee, sometimes Katara and Sokka), so I didn’t want to upset the Mai stans by writing her incorrectly. 2) Mai is generally not well-liked in the fandom at large, so I especially didn’t want to attract antis who would accuse me of writing Mai as too emotional and loving (which is why I tried to justify that in my tags). Luckily, my comments have all been lovely, and I’m far less afraid to post fics about her now that I’ve written three fics with her as the focus! And the shoutout from @nonbinary-crafter-aang praising my portrayal of her?? I was touched 🥺 still am

How you choose your titles: Song lyrics or movie/book lines that speak to me, occasionally a pun. Remember that post I rb’d about how authors title their works? My tags pretty much say it all 😂

Do you outline: Ehh...define outlining 😂 for my one-shots, nope. But for my upcoming multichap works (see below) and Nanowrimo work (original fiction, so I won’t talk about it on here, but send an ask if you’re curious), YES ABSOLUTELY!

For my Nanowrimo work and one of my upcoming AUs (a Soulmate AU), the worldbuilding is so complex that it’s an absolute necessity. For the other upcoming AU (a time travel AU), there are just too many things that need to happen at certain times so as not to interfere with canon events, and things I want to change from canon and things I want to keep...I think you get the idea 😂

Complete: Basically my entire maiko halloweek series! Check it out if you want some fics about the most underrated canon ATLA couple :)

In-progress: ...En Hamilton Heights again...but not for long, sadly. Still trying to decide between a quick conclusion and just flat-out orphaning it. Still haven’t made up my mind, but either way, it won’t be what I originally planned, unfortunately.

I’m also counting my ATLA Soulmate AU on the basis of forever in my mind (only you), which has the worldbuilding and fits into the AU without much problem (the AU is going to be a series of one-shots, not a multichap fic, because there won’t be enough deviations from canon imo to justify multiple chapters. And one-shots are just less pressure for me 😂)

[EDIT 12/12/2020: added another fic because I’m an idiot and forgot about this too 🤦‍♀️😂 it’s a year-old idea that I started writing but I’m picking it back up thanks to the Heist banter in MatPat’s St Jude stream!]

-A fic series combining Escape the Night and Who Killed Markiplier (Heist and Date are part of it too, but only tangentially at the moment. Depends on how involved I want DA Y/N to be). Tentatively titled A Heavy Cost, and definitely won’t happen in any of Mark’s projects, but in a way that’s actually for the best 😂 the canonicity for me stops at ETN S3 (with some S4), then it’s canon divergence

Coming soon/not yet started: OOOH YESSS HERE WE GO

Okay okay sooo we’ve got two main things:

–An ATLA Soulmate AU, featuring platonic and romantic soulmates! I know I called it in-progress, and I stand by that even though I haven’t actually set up the series on AO3 yet, but this AU is about to be SO MUCH MORE than just a few Maiko moments. Because...drum roll...it’s gonna be entirely Aang-centric (with maybe one or two exceptions)! Like Mai, Aang is a character that doesn’t get as many -centric fics as he should (and being an Aang stan also isn’t unanimous for some reason??), so I’m gonna fix that. Plus I want to dive further into his mind, and I think I’m more equipped to do that than I was with Mai, since Aang and I are very similar in attitude.

–Bumizumi time travel AU, which can be read as platonic until the last couple chapters (it’ll be multichap) but definitely has a romantic agenda throughout. So just. Be warned if you don’t ship them. It’s gonna be chock full of comedy and antics! Also A LOT of platonic affection between Izumi and teen Zuko (and just between Izumi, Bumi, and the Gaang in general), because platonic affection is underrated and also I can :D I’m also probably gonna make fun of how some elements of affection have become solely romantic territory, because...um, no, hugging and holding hands and cuddling can be done between friends, thanks! (Maybe it’s the ace in me talking. But regardless)

There are also vague concepts I’m spitballing, like:

-Zukaang telepathy AU (Platonic Zukaang, the only romance I’ll ever write in ATLA is for the canon ships, prompted by a dream because apparently ATLA lives in my head rent-free forever now 😂)

-Evil Zuko AU (Azula doesn’t exist, mostly prompted after watching Aang make fun of Zhao and realizing that if Zuko had been in any position of power during the War...the Gaang would have stood no chance at all)

-Bumizumi Arranged Marriage AU (Bumi and Izumi both think the other is hotheaded/reckless (Izumi @ Bumi) or uptight (Bumi @ Izumi). So Kataang and Maiko (along with Sukka, Ty Lee, and Toph because...duh) set them up in an arranged marriage, with the presented reasoning being that they already know each other’s families, it’ll be a great symbol of unity, and this way Izumi doesn’t have to worry about suitors. They both agree to it (it’s arranged, not forced), and over time, they warm up to each other...and maybe even...fall in love?? Prompted because we need more arranged marriage fics! On that note, I’m gonna plug shadows and steel by @dearestpartnerofgreatness because arranged marriage needs more rep and this fic does it and with Maiko to boot!)

-Zukaang as Brothers AU (I saw a fic about this, but it wasn’t complete. If it’s not done by the time I get to this concept, I’m gonna write it, because just...imagine the possibilities! Zuko and Aang are already basically brothers in canon anyway, this is just making them brothers in blood as well as in their hearts. This is especially vague because I have no concept of how this is gonna work 🤷‍♀️ I’ll get to it eventually)

(Can you tell I’m obsessed with Zuko and Aang’s friendship? Because I am!)

[EDIT 11/25/2020: I’m adding two more because I forgot these have been swirling around in my head too 😂]

-A fix-it fic based on May You Always Be Satisfied, a backstory fic for Who Killed Markiplier by @blackaquokat! I recently reread it and remembered that I was gonna write a fix-it for that fic. Not because the fic sucks, it’s actually amazing! I’m just a sucker for the main (requited unrequited) pairing, and there’s at least five ways to make that pairing canon and avoid the mess of Who Killed Markiplier. And THEY ALL DESERVE TO BE HAPPY OKAY

-A Finnrey fix-it for the Star Wars Sequel Trilogy (this one is especially vague, and I probably won’t write it since a bunch of these already exist, but it’s fun to think about. Maybe if I ever run out of WIPs 🤷‍♀️)

Upcoming story that you’re most excited to write: I’m equally excited for the Soulmate AU and the Bumizumi Time Travel AU! I’m also excited for my Nanowrimo work to be finished, but that’s more so in-progress than upcoming

Tagging:

@nonbinary-crafter-aang @dearestpartnerofgreatness @ohsalamanders @blackaquokat (no pressure ofc, only if you want to! But please tag me if you do, I’d love to see it!)

#avatar the last airbender #atla #hamilton #maipreciation #thank you for the tag!#this was really fun :)#writing tag game #fanfic tag game #atla tag game #who killed markiplier #wkm #escape the night #etn

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clumsyclifford · 4 years

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bella!! that kiss prompt list is so cute! will you write a new years kiss + kiss on a dare for lashton, pretty please? 💕 -blackbutterfliescal💛

EXCELLENT prompt omfg this got away from me but i had SO MUCH FUN writing it thank you brooke <3

Luke maintains that truth or dare is a dumb game. Michael says he’s just a buzzkill, which might be true, but it doesn’t mean Luke is wrong. Truth or dare is dumb.

This is, unfortunately, the unpopular opinion of the people at this New Year’s party, so here they are anyway, in a circle on the floor, playing it.

“Okay, Calum,” Jack says, smirking at Calum. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Calum says immediately. Luke rolls his eyes. Calum and Michael are trying to, like, out-dare each other, which is actually the only thing Luke can think of that is conceptually dumber than truth or dare as a game. Jack and Alex know that, and they’re taking advantage of it by choosing Calum and Michael whenever they can. If Luke weren’t so opposed to truth or dare, he’d be deeply amused.

Okay, he’s deeply amused anyway. It had been fucking funny watching Michael try to sing “I’m Not Okay (I Promise)” with “Mambo No. 5” blasting in headphones (dare courtesy of Alex’s weird, twisted, brilliant, evil mind, of course).

“Hm,” Jack hums, and strokes at his chin as if there’s anything more than stubble there. A moment later, his eyes light up. “Oh, I have a good one. Okay, I dare you to eat a spoonful of peanut butter and then make out with Michael.”

“Gross, don’t drag me into your nasty dares!” Michael protests, but Calum already has his determined face on.

“Babe,” he says seriously. “Michael. I need to do it. I have to.”

Michael groans loudly. “Fuck, fine. But you’re getting the peanut butter.” Calum immediately leaps to his feet.

“Back in a sec!” he calls out, and then he’s racing up the stairs by twos, footsteps pounding against the carpet.

Jack cackles. “I’ve always wanted to use that one.”

“Is that from experience?” Ashton asks from Luke’s right. “You’ve done that, haven’t you?”

Jack and Alex exchange a look, and then, in the most rom-com move Luke’s ever seen them do, they shrug in unison.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” Alex says airily.

Rian snorts from his spot opposite the circle. “That’s such bullshit. You exclusively kiss and tell.”

“I do not,” Alex counters. He grins. “I kiss and benevolently share, bitch. You love to hear about our adventures in shitty kissing ideas.”

“Nobody loves to, actually,” Zack puts in. Rian raises his hand, seconding the comment.

“This is making me regret agreeing to it,” Michael says. Luke laughs. That’s what he gets for trying to do the most dares.

Calum returns them, a jar of peanut butter in one hand and a spoon in the other. He looks overly excited for a dare this appalling, and as he reclaims his seat in the circle he twists the top off the peanut butter and digs a spoonful out. “Ready?” he asks Michael, who looks askance at him.

“As I’ll ever be,” he says defeatedly. “So, no, but go on.”

Calum grins and puts the spoon in his mouth, then pulls it out, mostly empty, and leans in to kiss Michael.

“Oh, gross,” Luke says, turning to look away. Ashton glances over at him and chuckles.

“Not for the faint of heart,” he says, and Luke nods vehemently. He chances another look — it’s like a car crash in that way, grotesquely appealing to watch — and to his utter dismay, Michael doesn’t look put off at all. Actually, they both seem to be enjoying it.

“Gross,” Luke says emphatically. “That’s disgusting.”

“Maybe it’s not,” Ashton says thoughtfully. “You’ve never tried it, you don’t know.”

If I did it with you, it wouldn’t be so bad, I expect, Luke thinks, and banishes the thought immediately. First of all, that kind of thought is unproductive; fancying Ashton has gotten him nowhere thus far and it’s not about to start. And more importantly, under no circumstance could making out while eating peanut butter be good.

He pulls a horrified face. “Have you?”

“Maybe,” Ashton says nonchalantly. Then he grins. “No, I’m kidding, of course not. You’ve gotta be sick and dirty to come up with that idea.”

“That we are!” Jack says cheerfully, ruffling Alex’s hair. It’s distressing how Luke can know, objectively, that Jack and Alex are two of the most perverse people he’s ever met, and yet still find himself endeared by their cuteness. There’s probably a magic spell involved in that.

“Mostly Jack,” Alex says. “I’m just the guinea pig.”

“Aw, you’re not giving yourself enough credit,” Rian says, as if he’s being sympathetic. “You’re just as sick and dirty as Jack, don’t you worry.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Alex says, blowing an exaggerated kiss to Rian. Jack pretends to snatch it out of midair. Luke finally returns his gaze to Calum and Michael just in time to see them part, both smacking their lips excessively.

“Ooh, my mouth feels weird,” Michael declares, and Calum nods in agreement. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand.

“Cool new trick,” he tells Jack. “Good to know.”

“You are welcome,” Jack says.

“You’re all fucked up,” Rian announces. Ashton laughs. The sound sends Luke’s stomach all aflutter.

“Okay, my turn,” Calum says, once he’s sufficiently swallowed the peanut butter. “Who’s not gone?” He scans the circle. “Oh — Ashton! Truth or dare?”

Ashton purses his lips. “Dare,” he finally says, cautiously, “although I’m sure I’ll regret it.”

Calum cocks his head. “Let me confer with my associate,” he says, holding up a finger. “One second. Make background noise.” He turns to Michael.

Immediately everyone is clamoring to be the loudest, even Luke, who launches into a really awful rendition of “Feeling This.” Ashton hears him and joins in, both of them screeching the song as loud as they can go, with Zack contributing by chiming in on I’m feeling this! every time it comes up.

“Okay, okay, enough!” Calum shouts, just as they reach the chorus. Everyone falls silent, but Ashton nudges Luke and gives him a small grin, and Luke returns it, cursing the butterflies in his gut for all the racket they’re making.

“It has come to the attention of the panel,” Michael begins, and Luke snorts, “that it is, in fact, five minutes to midnight.” A small outbreak of gasps from the circle, some authentic, some, specifically Rian’s, sarcastic.

“I thought Calum was giving me this dare,” Ashton says.

Calum glares at him. “I am,” he says. “Ashton, I dare you to pick someone here to kiss at midnight.”

“Not me,” Jack says immediately. “No offense, Ash, but I’m taken.”

“Yeah, ditto,” Alex says. “I mean, if you really want, I’m sure Jack and I can work it out, but —”

“Nope,” Ashton says dryly. “Sorry to disappoint, but I actually have no interest in kissing either of you for any reason at all.”

“I think that was mean,” Jack says under his breath to Alex, and Alex just kisses his cheek.

Ashton props his chin in his hand. “Well, there’s a lot to consider here,” he says pensively. Luke’s heart is beating too loud. Ashton won’t pick him when there’s — well, when there’s the whole circle to choose from, and even ignoring those already spoken for, that leaves Rian and Zack, both of whom would be better choices than Luke. “I mean, it’s not gonna be either of you,” to Jack and Alex, “or you,” to Calum and Michael, “so I guess it’s either Rian, Zack, or Luke.”

Luke tries to fight the blush rising on his cheeks. He keeps his mouth shut, swallowing the many cries of me, you can kiss me at midnight! building up under his tongue. Even if he says it as a joke, it’ll come across desperate, and when Ashton inevitably chooses Rian, Luke will look that much more foolish.

“I’m okay with it,” Rian says, shrugging. “I mean, no pressure, but I don’t really care.”

“Same,” Zack says. Ashton hums, then turns bodily to Luke.

“What about you?”

Luke stares. “What about me?”

“Are you okay with it?”

“With…kissing you at midnight?”

Ashton’s lips quirk up. “Yes, Luke, that’s what we’re discussing.”

Luke’s mouth feels dry. “Uh, yeah. Whatever you want.” Fuck, even that sounds far too inclined.

Ashton surveys the circle again, making thoughtful hums to himself as if deep in thought, gaze flitting between Luke, Rian, and Zack, until Calum, exasperated, says, “Ash, it’s two minutes to midnight.”

“Fine,” Ashton says. He turns again to Luke. “Kiss me at midnight?”

Luke’s heart leaps into his throat. “Seriously?” Then, “Um, I mean, yeah, sure.”

Ashton grins. “Cool.” And then he turns back to the circle. “Should I bother asking someone? Are we gonna watch the ball drop?”

“Not if you’re smooching this one,” Alex says, jerking a thumb at Luke. Luke makes a face at him to mask the way his insides are completely flipping over themselves. It’s not the Olympics, he tries to tell them, but they aren’t listening.

“Yes,” Zack says, more helpfully. He stands up. “Let me put it on.” Gesturing at them, he adds, “Talk amongst yourselves.”

“You don’t decide when we talk!” Jack says, as Zack goes to connect his laptop to the TV and set up the stream. Zack flips him off behind his back.

Everyone breaks off into quiet conversation, but Luke’s buzzing. Ashton elbows him gently. “You okay?”

Luke jolts and tries to laugh it off. Hopefully it doesn’t sound as nervous as it feels. “Good, yeah,” he says. “I’ve never actually kissed anyone on New Year’s, so. First time for everything.”

Ashton smiles warmly at him, and Luke feels it in his fingers and toes. “Well,” he says smoothly, “best make it good, then. No pressure on me.”

“Oh, don’t worry, it’ll be good no matter what,” Luke says, and immediately decides he should be banned from speaking forever. No matter what? Could he possibly sound more infatuated?

Ashton tilts his head. “No matter what?” he says. “Your expectations aren’t very high.”

“I just —” Luke bites his lip. He’s backed himself into a corner now. Fucking hell. “Um, I meant — it’s —”

“Luke, relax,” Ashton says, patting his knee twice. “I’m teasing.” With this, he pushes himself to his feet, then holds out a hand for Luke. Luke takes it and allows himself to be pulled upright as well. The look in Ashton’s eye is kind, and Luke expects to see the teasing Ashton had mentioned, but it’s absent. “If it would make you feel better, we don’t have to do it. It’s just a dare.”

“No, I want to,” Luke says, solidifying his decision that he should never be allowed to talk ever. Ashton raises an eyebrow and Luke feels himself blushing scarlet. “I mean…”

“You can want to,” Ashton says. “Do you want to?”

Luke swallows. “I don’t — that’s not a fair question.”

“Fine,” Ashton says. “I take it back. But in case you were wondering, I want to.”

Luke stares at him. “What?”

“Kiss you,” Ashton clarifies. “At midnight, and otherwise. In general.”

“Ten seconds!” Calum shouts, and the entire room explodes with the sound of the countdown.

“Oh,” Luke breathes. “That’s — oh. In that case, I do want to.”

“Eight!”

Ashton smiles. “Good,” he says happily. “You had me worried a second.”

“Six!”

“Sorry,” Luke says.

“Don’t let an apology be your last words of the year,” Ashton says.

“Four!”

“Okay,” Luke says quickly. “I want to kiss you. Final words.”

Ashton’s smile grows wider. “I want to kiss you too. So much.”

“Two! One! Happy New Year!”

Cheers erupt throughout the room, and Luke and Ashton both lean in, captured in a kiss that’s sweeter than any Luke’s ever had and warm from the spot they connect all the way through Luke’s skin, filling his brain with static, nothing but Ashton on a loop.

When they break apart, Ashton brushes their noses together. “First of many, I hope,” he says, and Luke beams.

Maybe there’s something to be said for truth or dare, actually.

#this is maybe unclear but it's a high school au #luke hemmings #ashton irwin #lashton #lashton fic #5sos #5sos fic #fic #my fic #featuring malum and jalex because you know. it's Me #fun fact: in 2018 like when the new year was 2018 my new year's kiss was my friend #this guy i was friends with who's gay. like we did it as a joke as friends bc we were like fuck it why not #and then after we did it we were like Ha Ha So Funny! So Glad We Never Have To Do That Again #and then we were cast as love interests in two. DIFFERENT. plays. that year.#i kissed him so many times bro..............irony is a BITCH #my new year's kiss THIS year was also my friend #OMG I FORGOT THAT IVE KISSED HIM #I FORGET TO COUNT HIM IN MY LIST OF PEOPLE IVE KISSED HAHHFKMGLKSDJ THATS FUNNY #anyway this is not a ramble anybody needs but you all got it anyway #it is genuinely 5am i think i will have to write the other prompts tomorrow #love you brooke this was really cute and fun to write #heyheyarnold #ask #answered #blackbutterfliescal

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years

Text

Humans are Weird “Pet Peeves”

Don’t forget to comment with what your weirdest pet peeve is, and also a reminder that I am open to prompts if you have them, no need to ask permission :)

Also a book update. Chapter 2 of the book has been with my beta readers for a few days, so I might be able to post it soon, so look forward to that.

Unlike other species, humans fall on a wide spectrum of temperaments from happy and laid back to angry and aggressive. As would only be logical, humans on either end of the spectrum can be easily annoyed or difficult to annoy, but there is one interesting fact about ALL humans laid back or aggressive; they have a list of small inconsequential things that will make them inordinately angry at the drop of a hat (Of course some of them may not be inconsequential, but I find that they tend to be). They call these pet peeves. You might assume that these would be large things relating to improper social behavior, or something similar, but most of them are just unfathomably unimportant. And, while a human isn’t likely to act out their anger on these, they will probably dislike you forever, or if it doesn't involve you they will go out of their way to avoid the thing that annoys them.

I asked the humans this question about their pet peeves, and this is the ist that I received.

Commander Vir: Um, well that is a good question, I have a few of curse, who doesn’t. Um I hate it when my nails are cut short, and I have to touch some sort of grainy fabric, like velvet for instance. I mean I absolutely HATE velvet to begin with its like if you skinned Satan and made curtains out of him, and now you are going to make e touch it with the most sensitive part of my body…. *shivers* nope, no thank you. The only place velvet should exist is as red velvet cake.

Or, or…. *the human grows more agitated now* how about when people are CONSTANTLY late, and then you talk to them about it and they are all like *human changes to an annoyingly high voice* ‘sorry that's like, just how I am, the world is like, to focused on being late, well I have trouble waking up, and they just don’t understand me’ like BITCH SHUT UP and get to work ON TIME dear lord in heaven! You are WASTING MY TIME and the time of everyone else here by being LATE! *human clears throat awkwardly* um sorry….. I also hate it when people use like too much, I don’t know if you got that one….. I mean it is TOTALLY fine in simili, but when you just throw it in there.

*he pauses to think* OH! One last thing, people who walk slowly in crowded hallways. You know sometimes I just have the urge to take a running start and shoulder check all those slow walking assholes into the floor and then go over them like a speed bump….. Is that an over reaction?

Lieutenant Keita: Oh, do I have a list for you. Mouth noises, always mouth noises, I don’t care what it is, if I can hear you chewing, breathing, yawning, or coughing excessively, I just become filled with this…. This OVERWHELMING desire to hurt you. Like just close your DAMN mouth and stop eating like an ABSOLUTE COW! And those people who constantly chew gum, like no one is in greater need of a throat punch especially when you are having one of those bad days and you just hate everyone.

Speaking of especially, it's pronounced ESPECIALLY not EXPECIALLY, Like even grown ass adults have no idea what they are doing, and it just drives me insane just GTFO out of my life and get an education.

Also anyone who feels the need to say ‘basically’ in front of everything they say just needs to basically go and die!

*humans eyes narrow* but of all the things I hate most of all…. irreguardless , that isn’t a fucking word. We have been doing this shit for 2000 years, and people are still saying this. Regardless means despite something, however if you add an ir in front of it, it's like a double negative which makes it NOT regardless you backwater sludge troll.

*she takes a deep breath* I don’t know why this makes me so mad.

Corporal Ramirez: How about when my girlfriend says she isn’t hungry, but as soon as I get my meal she INSISTS on stealing my food. I mean seriously, if you wanted food you should have just ORDERED some food, these are my fries, get your own. I will pay for you to have your own, but you may not say that you don’t want any and then immediately take mine…. Unacceptable.

*the human rolls his eyes* Oh and don’t get my STARTED on astrology people. Listen guys it’s 4010 we KNOW that you aren't being a bitch because venus is in retrograde. Or when some backwards ass person stabs you in the back and is all ‘lol ssry its because im a candy-corn or a cheerio or a zebra. Like what the hell does that even mean!

Or when they complain about things that can easily be fixed, or is totally their fault. Like when they are all cold and complain about it, and somehow, its impolite for YOU to say, well sorry you should have brought a coat, but I’m not giving you mine.

Sgt. Kae: Kids, whistling, people who have a special set of dishes that are for decoration and not for eating.

Systems officer Johnson: People who have mustaches, like seriously dude, people think your a pedo, everyone thinks your a pedo, or an 80s porn star, and not in a good way. Beard is totally fine, beard can even be hot, but the mustache is just creepy as hell. On that same line though, I absolutely hate it when guys with beards won’t shut up about their beards. It's like as soon as they see another guy, its beard wax or beard oil, or how anyone without a beard is just a little girl. Or when you tell them you don’t like beards and they take it as a personal offence to their honor and then tell you you just haven't been with a real man, and you would grow to like it. NO, no I will NOT!

People listening to stuff in pubic without headphones.

Or how about when people who sing take a song that you like and then add a ton of unnecessary runs to show off. Like thanks, you absolute trash bag, you went took my favorite song and ruined it. Like I will always love youuuuuuuoooooooahhhaooooahhaoooooooaaaaaahhhhooooo. It sounds like trash and it doesn't make you talented, so please go away.

Cadet Leu; Having something stuck in my teeth, people who leave the lights on, people who are indecisive, or when you are watching a movie and the dialogue is really quiet but the action scenes vibrate your insides at the same volume.

I have found that it is completely plausible to develop a pet peeve if you spend long enough with humans. And you want to know what my pet peeve is…… do you really want to know?

Humans

#humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space australians #humans are space oddities #humans are weird #earth is a deathworld #Earth is space Ausralia

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winetae · 4 years

Text

:: modern loneliness

⇨ prompt : android!hoseok x reader. 2205 words. drabble with a possible follow-up. it’s been 38 days since you’ve last seen and interacted with a living, breathing person and you’re slowly going insane.

[Week 1 of lock down.]

At first, you’re optimistic.

Working from home comes with its own set of non-negligeable perks. Notably, no more commute time! No more squeezing in between sweaty men on the subway during rush hour just to get home. The new arrangement means that you’re no longer obliged to wake up at the ass crack of dawn to blow-dry your hair or meticulously put on makeup while stuffing a bagel into your mouth because you’re short on time.

On Day 1 of quarantine, you roll out of bed and don’t even bother to change out of your pajamas. It’s quite the sight. Not that you care whether or not your hair looks like a bird’s nest or if there’s a small hole in your shirt. You’d gladly take your flannel pants and old university sweatshirt with the coffee stain by the collar over the rigid pencil skirt and stupid obligatory heels they force you to wear to the office. Ironing? You don’t know her.

That’s not to say there aren't any inconveniences but as of now, the pros outweigh the cons. For one, you’re now allowed to add as much sugar into your coffee without susciting your coworkers’ judgement. You can blast angry rap songs while finishing your reports and no one will stop you. The list goes on.

With all this newfound time on your hands, you have no more valid reasons to procrastinate. You start off by cleaning out the kitchen cabinets you’d been meaning to re-organize for months. Then you rearrange your wardrobe, dust off the top shelves of your bookcase that you usually skip over because no one can see them, and water the potted plants you’d been neglecting.

It feels great to be so productive. Your friends tell you via FaceConnect that your productivity streak won’t last long, but you’re quick to shake off their doubts.

“I’m a new me!” You insist when Mia’s laughter echoes around your empty apartment. “My life is back on track. I feel like a proper adult now that I’m not struggling so much to get everything done.”

“Sure,” she humors you. “Just don’t get upset when I tell you I told you so.”

[Day 8 of lockdown.]

Now that your apartment is cleaner than it’s ever been, you need to find other means of entertainment. According to the internet, now is the ideal time to learn a new language or acquire a new hobby, like crocheting or playing the guitar. But while it might be technically possible to learn a language, you’re definitely not an overachiever. You’re aware of your own limits.

Today you try your hand at baking. To some it might not seem like a big deal. But for someone like you who solely uses the kitchen to boil ramyeon packets and chop the occasional vegetable, today’s venture into the world of cooking is the equivalent of a quantum leap.

The molten lava cakes that come out of the oven 15 minutes later don’t look like the picture advertised in the online recipe. They don’t taste like how you’d expected, either.

You try not to be too disappointed with your failed attempt. After all, it’s only your first try. Dry cakes aren’t that bad in comparison to the horrors that could have occurred. At least nothing is burnt and your oven is still intact. You’ll try again tomorrow with hopefully a little more success.

[Day 16 of lockdown.]

It turns out that baking is not for you. After numerous trials and errors you learn a few days later that you have no vacation to be a baker. You end up abandoning all attempts to acquire a new hobby and instead look for new ways to pass the time.

Thankfully, your home server is offering free VOD for a limited amount of time, so you’re not short on distractions. You consume around half a dozen cult movies, the kind people always reference and quote without actually watching, before you finally begin crossing TV series off your to-watch list.

You yawn. It’s 9 PM on a Saturday night and you’ve just finished binging the entire season of Tiger King. It’s the third show you’ve watched from start to finish since quarantine began and now you’re wondering whether you should start a fourth.

“Well, it’s not like I have anything better to do,” you say before a grimace crosses your face. “Oh great... Now I’m talking to myself.”

That can’t be a good sign, you think to yourself. How long has it been since you’ve last talked to someone? You used to call your parents every day but when there’s nothing new to report, the conversations become repetitive and dull.

You should call Mia. Just to see how she’s doing.

[Day 24 of lockdown.]

YOUR WEEKLY BASKET FROM FOODCONNECT HAS ARRIVED. ALL PURCHASES WILL BE ADDED TO YOUR MONTHLY EXPENSES CARD. REMINDER THAT DUE TO THE EXCEPTIONAL CIRCUMSTANCES, CONNECT CARDS ARE ALLOWED A 5000 EXCESS OVER FIXED LIMIT. TOTAL EXCESS HAS NOT YET BEEN REACHED.

[Day 38 of lockdown.]

You’re browsing BH, hoping to restock your vitamins. Lately you’ve been feeling tired and mentally drained, despite your workload not being what it used to be. Why you’re so exhausted is a mystery you’ve yet to solve. In all logic, your energy level should be at an all time high now that you’re working less and spending all your free time lounging on the couch surfing the internet.

According to the national health guideline, you’re supposed to be exercising an hour a day minimum in order for your body to remain in good condition. Your BODYCONNECT watch monitor beeps every hour to remind you that you haven’t completed the suggested activity.

Ugh.

You press the button on the side of the watch to turn the reminder off. It’s the fifth time you’ve had to silence it today but you can’t bring yourself to work up a sweat right this minute. You keep telling yourself that you’ll exercise later but like all things lately, later ends up being never.

Come to think of it, this isn’t the first time you’ve caught yourself slacking off. Where did all your motivation during week 1 of lockdown go? You don’t even have the strength to do ten jumping jacks anymore; it’s like your bones belong to a person three times your age - feeble and brittle and threatening to break at a moment’s notice.

LOW ON SEROTONIN? WE’VE GOT YOU COVERED. Flash promo over in 00:32:43! Limited offer while supplies last.

A bright yellow advertisement flashes on the top right corner of your screen. Intrigued, you follow the link without expecting much. The last thing you expect is to be brought directly to BH LAB’s homepage.

“Um… I don’t think I have the budget for this…” You mutter under your breath and prepare to exit out of the page.

Androids are usually employed by the government but the ones for sale to the general public are known to be exorbitantly expensive.

A message reads: EXCLUSIVE 1 HOUR PROMO, 40% OFF YOUR FIRST PURCHASE. Click here for more details. Offer valid for new customers only.

You pause and decide to click on the link. Looking around won’t hurt anyone, right? It’s not like you’ve decided to buy anything yet.

The seven Dwellers available for sale are just as good looking as you expected them to be. Their unnaturally good looks and vibrant green eyes are what makes them easy to pick out from the crowd.

You skim through each Dweller’s description. It seems that apart from the physical differences like their facial features and build, they each have their own specialty and characteristics. One of the best-selling models boasts the cooking ability of a 5-star chef, which you admit sounds very tempting since your skills with a knife are pathetic enough to make Gordon Ramsey cry.

Another best-selling model specializes in...sex. You blink, your cheeks warming as you read over the model’s description (the “thick, vibrating cock that guarantees an orgasm every time!” comment makes you choke on your saliva). You can understand straight away why this particular model would be so popular. All of the models are pretty, but this one’s face doesn’t look like it’s from this world. Confinement would make anyone horny, and when promised a godly sex bot equipped with a vibrating dick, well…

Too bad you’re too tired these days to even think about having “mind-blowing sex for 5 hours straight.” Having such intense intercourse would probably make you pass out on the Dweller’s artificial cock, and there’s no way in hell you would want someone from CONNECT to intervene after receiving distressed signals from your body monitor. That would just be embarrassing.

You’re about to exit out of the page, curiosity sated, when the last model catches your eye.

SEROTONIN BOOSTER. Low on energy? Feeling sad or depressed? Need a companion?

This model is perfect for you! Model JHS is equipped with emotion sensors. They will fulfill your every need even when you’re not able to vocalize them. Stressed? They specialize in massages and are proficient in: Swedish massages, Aromatherapy, Shiatsu massages, Reflexology, among others.

Personality : This model is energetic. They are very active and therefore requires a minimum 6 hours to recharge. They are extremely tactile and will easily engage in skinship such as hugs or holding hands. They are talkative and will hold passionate conversations with you about almost any subject.

Likes : cleaning, working out

Dislikes : horror movies, strong smells

When reading the description, it feels they’re talking about a person rather than an android. You’re surprised to see that the Dwellers are programmed to have a certain personality that caters to specific needs because the only androids you’ve ever come across before are the government ones, and they’ve always been stoic and devoid of any distinguishing characteristic.

It would be nice, you think, to have a companion. Someone you could talk to for real instead of through a pixelated hologram. As much as you enjoy your time alone, each passing day locked in your apartment makes you realize how much you long for a hug. You miss holding someone in your arms, feeling their heartbeat against your cheek and the rise and fall of their chest as they squeeze you back.

Model JHS looks like he could fill that vacancy. Their smile is blinding, like they’re physically radiating sunshine through their expression alone. You don’t doubt their capacity to bring positive energy into your life.

Before you can think twice about it you’re adding the model to your shopping cart. The site asks you if you want to pay more in order to customize them. For an additional fee, you’re able to tweak the Dweller’s personality or modify their physical attributes to your liking. You skip over the option. For one, you don’t have the funds to afford a vibrating dick enhancement and two, you’re more than satisfied with your Dweller as they are.

It’s not until you finish supplying all your information including your Connect Card details and shipping address that you realize what a monumental purchase you’re about to make and how empty your account will be by the end of it.

You stare at the price listed at the bottom of the screen and weigh your options. Even with the 40% reduction, it’s not a negligible sum. You could buy several models of the new Birkin bag you’d been saving up for with this money.

Why purchase designer bags when you can’t even go out and use them? a voice argues. And - uh. Fair point.

In any case, you’d have to stop shopping, eating out all the time and going on frivolous trips overseas. Not that you really have a choice, given the circumstances.

You look at the laptop screen again. Are you seriously so touch-deprived that you’re willing to fork over that much money for a live-at-home android? Really?

Fuck it.

You click on [VALIDATE PAYMENT] before rationality has time to kick in and you change your mind again. Just as the screen changes and the new page loads, you feel your heart leap to your throat but it’s too late to back out now.

PROCESSING ORDER …

...

CONGRATULATIONS!

YOU HAVE SUCCESSFULLY ORDERED (1) DWELLER - JHS MODEL. WE THANK YOU FOR YOUR PURCHASE.

(!) Your order is eligible for Instant Shipping (delivered to your door in 24 hours or less).

(!!) Due to exception circumstances, your order might encounter delays. We are taking multiple steps to ensure the safety and hygiene of all products and shipments. For more information click here.

(!) All BH products are covered by a limited two-year warranty. Please refer to warranty details regarding your product in the Dweller E-HandBook, free for download here. Please register your product after purchase in order to qualify for future claims, returns, and support.

You expel the breath you’d been holding. Your father will throw a fit once he finds out you’ve blown all your money on a bot. The criticism is warranted.

What are you even supposed to say to defend yourself? You’ve bought a Dweller on a whim while browsing for Vitamin C supplements.

Quarantine is really making you lose your goddamn mind, huh.

#blurb.txt #idk what to think of this tbh so i guess i'm just testing the waters?? if it's not too weird i'll write the rest #i really hesitated btwn jimin and hoseok dflkdjf it was a hard decision #drabble named after that lauv song

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thefandomsinhalor · 5 years

Text

Pie Makes Everything Better

Written for: @mercurialkitty who, for my 400 followers celebration, had requested something sweet about fall/thanksgiving :) (thank you, this was super fun to write!! Xxx)

Pairing: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Word Count: 3445

Warnings: None

Rating: General

Additional tags: Alternate Universe—Bakery, Fluff, Thanksgiving, Sam Knows, Pie.

Summary: It’s Thanksgiving and Dean is desperate for an apple pie. Luckily, there is still one bakery that appears to be open. And Dean finds the cashier to be very kind and handsome.

Read on AO3

———----

“Dean, don’t you think you’re being a little overdramatic?”

“Nope. Turn right.”

“We’re already la—”

“No—no, we are not,” he cut him off. “And we are doing this. Turn right at the light, again,” he said, after glimpsing at his phone.

“But everyone is already at the house,” said Sam, following his directions. “Including Ellen and Bobby, and they were the ones who were supposed to arrive late.”

Sam shot a look at his brother, hoping he would be reasonable. But Dean was making a moue.

“We are not having Thanksgiving dinner without apple pie. For. Get. It.” Although Dean couldn’t see him, he knew his brother was rolling his eyes at him.

“I know it sucks, but it won’t be the end of the world.”

“Sam,” huffed Dean, “I feel like crap. I haven’t eaten since this morning. I’m exhausted, work has been nuts all week, I have just gotten off a freaking plane—yes, plane—and we, or rather, you, are driving us around in this…car—”

“It’s a rental, you judgmental ass! You’re lucky I came to pick you up at the airport.”

“—and now,” continued Dean, utterly unfazed by his brother’s comment, “you’re telling me that not one single person brought dessert? How is that possible? Not even Mom made her traditional pie?”

“Mom did everything else,” pointed out Sam.

“I know and I—but I have been looking forward to this freaking meal all year and it ain’t about to be ruined by the fact that there’s no apple pie. I can live with the fact that it won’t be Mom’s, but I need my damn pie for Thanksgiving dinner.” He let out a massive sigh as he leaned back in the passenger seat. “Just…please? It’s the only bakery listed as open.”

“I’m driving you, aren’t I? But Dean, they might not even be open. The holiday hours are probably not displayed online.”

But Dean shook his head, looking straight ahead, eagerly scanning for the shop. “It says it’s open, so it has to be open. We’re lucky to have found one place that still is.”

A few minutes later, Sam and Dean spotted the shop in question down the street.

A nice little bakery, with large windows and a sign displaying wings embraced by a golden halo.

And the “Open” sign hanging in the door.

Sam barely had the time to stop the car and Dean was already opening his door, jumping out of the vehicle. He gunned for the entrance, took a deep breath, pulled on the door and stepped inside.

The place was empty.

No customers seated at the small round tables. Nor at the counter.

And no one behind the counter either.

Just as he was about to call for help, someone, with a low, gravelly voice, said from the back room, “I’ll be right with you!”

“Okay. Thanks!”

Stepping towards the display of pastries at the counter, Dean hastily searched for his desired item.

Cakes. Cinnamon rolls. Scones. Croissants. Éclairs. And so on.

But, unfortunately, no pie in sight. Of any kind.

And even though Dean had to admit that everything his eyes fell on was mouthwatering, panic nonetheless spread through his chest at that sad fact. His only glimmer of hope, it seemed, was that pie—apple pie—was listed on the menu above.

“Did you find it?” asked Sam, who had now reached his side.

“Not yet. I’m waiting for them to come to the counter.”

“Looks promising so far, though,” said Sam, pointing at the display.

“Right? Everything looks great. That raspberry cheesecake looks like something.”

“Yeah. I bet Dad wouldn’t say no to that. We should get a few things while we’re here,” suggested Sam.

“Good idea, seeing as they have a lot of options.”

It was at this moment that a dark-haired man, wearing a bright blue apron, finally appeared from the back room. “Happy Thanksgiving and welcome to Wings and Halo,” he said, bursting through the door. At the sight of Sam and Dean, however, he momentarily paused, and then stepped forward, with a shy smile forming itself on his face. “Sorry for the wait. What can I do for you?”

“One apple pie, please,” said Dean with such enthusiasm it was as if his life depended on it. “Sam? Go nuts, pick anything you want.”

The man’s smile vanished, however.

“I’m sorry, sir. We’re all out of apple pie.”

Dean’s heart stopped. He stared helplessly at him, in disbelief of his answer.

“Dean, I—I told you it could happen,” argued Sam, after a long uncomfortable minute of silence. “But it’s okay. There’s plenty of other stuff to cho—”

But Dean didn’t want to hear it. He waved his hand at Sam to stop him, took a deep breath and looked at the cashier straight in the eyes.

His piercing blue eyes.

“Look, I—um, I—sorry, what’s your name?” asked Dean, noticing the employee wasn’t wearing a nametag.

“Castiel.”

“Look, Casti—wait, Castiel? Really? That’s, um, that’s an interesting name.” Castiel remained silent. “And, um, I’m guessing I’m not the only one who ever said that, right?”

“I’m afraid not, no.” He had said it in a very nonchalant way, but a faint smile had appeared at the corner of his mouth.

Of which, Dean couldn’t help but take note of its shape. And this, for an unnecessary long time.

While remaining perfectly silent.

Sam cleared his throat.

“Right,” said Dean. “Okay, well, Castiel, um—”

“Cas.”

Dean froze.

“You may call me, Cas.”

“Oh. Um, Cas, I—look, I’m sorry. I know it’s just the way things are and I really don’t want to be that prissy customer, because who needs that, but I—you’re sure you don’t have any left? I’ll pay double or—”

“Dean,” hissed Sam, nearly outraged.

But that didn’t slow him down.

“I—I’m begging you,” he continued. “I know it’s not your problem, but I just had the worst day and—I really could go for some apple pie. Like, I don’t want to say that you’d save the day, but yeah. You totally would.”

Convinced that Castiel was most likely assessing his mental health after his over-the-top plea, Dean waited patiently under Castiel’s watchful eye.

Then, he finally said, “I’m sorry, um—Dean? Was it?” Dean nodded, holding his breath. “I—I’m sorry, Dean. We really are all out of apple pie. Because of the holiday, what we have left is what’s in the display for today.”

Dean shut his eyes as he actually felt his heart grow heavy. “Okay. Thank you, Cas. I under—thank you for your time. I appreciate it. Really.” He knew it had been a long shot, but he still felt disappointed. “Sammy, just…you go ahead and pick the other desserts.”

Reluctantly, he stepped away from the counter, looking at the ground, with his hands in his pockets.

“Dean, wait,” said Castiel. “I was going to suggest an alternative.”

Dean lifted his eyes.

“I had set aside a pumpkin pie for myself this morning. It was meant for a snack in the afternoon, but I’ve been so busy, I didn’t even get a chance to have a bite. I usually wouldn’t suggest it, because it was technically speaking ‘off the shelves,’ and that I handled it. But it’s intact. And I know it’s not apple, but it’s the closest to it I have. And the pumpkin pie is incredibly delicious. So, if you want, it’s yours.”

Dean’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious? That would be ama—” started saying Dean, but stopped mid-sentence. Overwhelmed by Castiel’s gesture, Dean then felt guilty accepting his generous offer. “You don’t have to do this,” he added urgently. “It doesn’t seem fair. That pie was yours. No, Sam’s right, we—we’ll be fine with any other dessert.”

“It’s no problem. I’m closing in less than an hour, and I’ll have a full meal waiting for me then. You seemed to have your heart set on a pie. It would be my pleasure.”

The two men stared at each other kindly, and then Dean said, “All right, then. Yes, please. But only if you’re sure you’re okay with this.”

“I am.”

“Okay, um, we’ll take that one to go. Thank you,” said Dean, not believing his luck.

Castiel nodded and stepped away from the counter to fetch the pie. The moment he disappeared behind the door leading to the back room, Dean turned to Sam with a massive grin on his face. “This is awesome. See!” he said, hitting him on the arm. “I knew this place would work out. We saved the day and we get to bring some pie home with us.”

“Yeah. That’s awesome for sure.” And then, Sam, trying to keep his face straight, added, “And, um, I bet the pie isn’t the only thing you’d like to take home with you.”

“What?”

“Oh, you heard me.”

“No idea what you’re talking about.”

Sam snorted. “Denial. So typical, Dean.”

Dean shot him an angry look. “I don’t—shut up.”

“I’m just trying to help,” he said, laughing.

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

Their brotherly quarrel got interrupted when Sam’s phone buzzed.

“It’s Dad,” he said, checking his phone. “Apparently, there’s been an accident on the highway and now he’s worried about why we’re taking forever to get there.”

“Just tell him we’re fine and that we took a detour,” said Dean. But he was prompted to add, under his brother’s firm stare, “…and that my stomach is the one to blame for the delay.”

The door swung open and Castiel appeared with a box in hands. “Here it is.” He slid the box on the counter and opened it for Dean to see for himself.

One perfect-looking pumpkin pie, with gorgeous crust leaf ornaments.

“That’s great. Thanks again.”

“No problem. Oh, and I should warn you, though, there’s a dash of whiskey in it. Does that still hold your interest?”

Stunned once again, Dean gawked at him, processing the information.

Which left Sam the opportunity to answer, “Oh, trust me, he’s interested.”

“Terrific,” said Castiel, closing the box delicately, while Dean glared at Sam, silently telling him to cut it out. “Was there anything else I could do for you today?”

“So many things I want to say right now,” muttered Sam.

“Um, yes. We’ll—we’ll get a few more desserts to go, if that’s all right,” said Dean, attempting as best he could to not look at his brother, whom, he knew, was most definitely smirking at him.

Sam and Dean then quickly selected five additional desserts from the display for them to bring, and as Castiel was finishing packaging a box of Danishes, Sam’s phone rang.

“I wonder who that could be?” he sneered.

“Ask them if they want anything,” said Dean, pointing at the counter.

Sam nodded and, after politely excusing himself, he stepped away from them to answer his call.

Thus, leaving Dean and Castiel to themselves for a moment.

With nothing else to do but stare at each other awkwardly.

So it seemed.

After a long minute of silence, one where Dean felt embarrassed every time he diverted his gaze away from Castiel the moment he realized the man was looking at him, Dean finally cleared his throat and said, resolute to kill the silence, “So, um, it’s—the shop…you’re nice. I mean, your shop. It’s a nice shop.”

Only to immediately regret his decision.

“That’s very kind of you to say so, Dean. Although, I cannot claim I had much to do about that,” said Castiel. “Is this your first time here?”

“Yeah.”

Silence.

“But, um, in my defense,” continued Dean, “I’m from out of town, so…”

“Oh, you don’t live in Lawrence?”

Suddenly upset by that fact, Dean answered, “Um, no. I’m visiting my parents. For Thanksgiving.”

Castiel nodded. “I don’t either. Live here, I mean. I’m visiting family, as well.”

Dean frowned, glancing around the shop. Castiel, understanding his confusion, added, “This is my brother’s shop. I’m simply helping him out this weekend for the holiday rush and in return he takes care of the whole meal. Well, most of it.”

“Awesome. That’s…awesome.” He paused briefly. Long enough to realize he was staring at him like an idiot. “So, Cas, um, since you’re visiting, can I ask—just out of curiosity—where do you live? Is it still close to Lawrence or…”

“I’m afraid not. It’s over six hours by car from here. I live in Pontiac, Illinois.”

“What? No way. I—I—” he let out a laugh, “I live in Normal.”

Castiel blinked. “Normal, Illinois?”

“Yeah. That’s—like, what? Less than an hour away from Pontiac?”

“I believe so, yes. How curious.”

“Yeah.” And unable to stop himself, he asked, “And have any big plans tonight?”

“Besides Thanksgiving dinner, you mean?”

Feeling like an imbecile, Dean shut his eyes a moment when he realized what he had just said. Determined to save himself from further embarrassment, he opted to simply nod at Castiel and keep his mouth shut until Sam’s return.

He quickly gave up on his resolution, however, when his eyes locked with Castiel. “I meant—um, until when are you staying?”

Castiel hesitated for a short instant. “Probably Sunday at the latest. Though, I suppose it will depend on the road conditions.”

“You drove all the way here?”

He nodded. “I usually travel by plane, but I…I had to bring down a few pieces of furniture I had promised my brother at the end of the summer and—anyway,” he said, waving his hand. “I—long story, it was less complicated—and less expensive—if I travelled by car this year. So, in order to avoid the storm, I left late afternoon on Tuesday. I was lucky enough to be able to do so, anyway.” Castiel’s eyes shifted to Sam who was still avidly speaking on the phone. “What about you?”

“I came here by plane at the last minute. Because of the storm. I actually envy you. I much prefer driving and without my car, I—well, anyway. I shouldn’t complain. I still made it and I get to see my family. Especially Sammy. I don’t get to see my brother as often as I’d like.”

“Brother? You—Sam’s your brother?”

His pulse racing, Dean gave him an urgent nod.

“Oh.” And a smile appeared on Castiel’s face. “That’s what I thought at first but then I—”

Dean shifted on his feet. “And that’s—that’s an important distinction? For you, I mean?” he asked with caution.

“It is a relevant detail, yes.”

“In a good way?”

“I hope so.”

Blood rushed to Dean’s cheeks and he couldn’t do anything but stare at him awkwardly.

Meanwhile, Sam, who had been finished with his phone call and was then standing next to Dean, a fact unnoticed by the other two, observed the scene with attention and amusement. When he judged that a significant amount of time had passed, enough to border into awkwardness, he cleared his throat, thus making Dean nearly jump out of his skin.

“Sam, you’re back. Did you—did anyone make a request?” asked Dean.

“Yeah. I mentioned briefly what the options were. Everyone is happy with what we selected. That being said, I think if we leave without some powdered mini donuts, Donna is gonna murder us.”

“Let’s make sure you don’t leave without some, then,” said Castiel.

After Castiel had finished preparing the box and putting everything else in bags so it would be easier for them to carry, he asked, “Was that everything?”

Sam and Dean nodded to him. Dean quietly paid the bill, glancing at Castiel every chance he got.

While Dean shoved his wallet back in his pocket, Castiel placed the receipt in one of the bags, then slid them on the counter and gave Sam and Dean a bright smile.

“Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Happy Thanksgiving,” Sam and Dean wished him.

And everyone stayed put.

Sam was eyeing his brother with a growing smirk on his face. Dean was gazing at Castiel, as anxiety was spreading in his chest. And Castiel, bouncing his eyes back and forth between Sam and Dean, wondered by every second that passed why neither of them had moved.

“Is there a problem?” he finally asked.

At Dean’s silence, Sam said, “I think Dean, who, by the way, is super single, wants to say something.”

Dean turned towards him, aghast. “Sam! What the—” He scoffed. “Subtle, Sammy. Thanks for that.”

“You’re welcome.”

Relieved that Castiel was smiling warmly, Dean, nonetheless, felt incredibly embarrassed.

“Sam, could you—a little privacy, please?” He handed over one of the bags to his brother, hoping for him to leave them alone.

Sam gladly held the bag. He also remained on his spot, grinning and shaking his head at Dean’s request. “Oh, I’m staying here and seeing this thing through until the end.”

“No, you’re not,” hissed Dean.

And Sam’s only reply was a mischievous grin.

Dean rolled his eyes, let out a deep sigh of exasperation and turned all his attention to Castiel, who was patiently waiting for him.

Still harboring a smile.

Dean swallowed hard.

“So, I was thinking,” Dean began saying with a wavering voice, “I—obviously not tonight—but, um, if you’re free one—an evening, I—I’d like to see you again. If you want.”

After what seemed like an eternity to Dean, Castiel said, “We usually have long hours during weekends like this. And as it’s partially why I’m here—to help my brother,” Castiel reminded him, “I’m afraid I won’t be able to wander too far off from the shop, even in the evenings.”

“Right.”

“But,” continued Castiel, “while I wouldn’t be able to leave the shop, if you want, we could meet here during the afternoon. It was busy earlier today, but that was mostly due to the fact that we were the only shop open and—anyway. The point is that the afternoon is usually not peak hour. In fact, it’s typically dead during that time, much like right now,” he said, gesturing around them. “So, if you want—I—I know it’s not anything grand in terms of—”

“I like it.”

A shy smile appeared on his lips. “Yes?”

Dean nodded vehemently. “I’d like that very much.”

“Okay. When?”

After a short hesitation, Dean said, “Tomorrow too soon?”

“No,” he laughed. “Tomorrow’s perfect.”

“Awesome. I’ll bring coffee. Or would you prefer something more festive? Like apple cider? Hot chocolate?”

“That sounds delicious.”

“All right, then. I’ll bring both.”

And they spent a long minute, gazing at each other with bright smiles, utterly silent.

“As much as I’d like to continue witnessing what’s happening here,” said Sam in a low voice, “Dean, we need to leave or we will get skinned by everyone when we get home.”

“Okay.”

But Dean didn’t move. He simply stayed put, staring at Castiel. Acknowledging that Dean hadn’t heard a single word he had just said, Sam rolled his eyes, feeling as annoyed as he was amused.

“Fine,” snorted Sam. “Let me put it this way then: the longer we stay, the more stuff you’re supplying for me to report back at home.”

And with that, Dean snapped out of it. “Wow. Look at the time.” He grabbed the other bag, as he cleared his throat. “We—I’m sorry, Cas. Um, we—Sam’s right. We really have to go.”

“Of course. Don’t worry. See you tomorrow.”

Dean gave Castiel a short nod and headed towards the exit with Sam following him. But before he reached the door, Castiel said, “And Dean?”

“Yeah?”

Dean stopped so abruptly, Sam nearly slammed into him.

“I’ll make sure that there will be an apple pie.”

And gawking back at him, Dean replied, “More than one thing to be looking forward to, then. But still doesn’t beat the first one.”

And with that, Dean got the pleasure of watching Castiel’s smile widened.

“Oh. My. God,” said Sam. “Guys, seriously, I’m two seconds away from calling the cuteness police.”

Beaming at Castiel like a fool, Dean said goodbye once more before leaving the shop. He didn’t complain once on the way to the house.

He even hummed to the cheesy songs Sam selected on the radio.

He spent the night gleeful, chuckling at everybody’s jokes.

He absolutely savored every single bite of that pumpkin pie with his eyes closed, ignoring Sam who was laughing his head off at the sight of him.

And at night, in his bed and listening to the wind brushing against trees, he slowly drifted into sleep, recalling the way Castiel’s deep voice was pronouncing his name.

#spnpetra #my fanfic #destiel fic #destiel fluff #mercurialkitty #spn fanfiction #bakery au #thanksgiving #sam knows #pumpkin pie #followers celebration #supernatural

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