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the-only-ace · 3 years

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Hey I know you are really busy with all the request and job and all that but can you do shinee's reaction to s/o stealing their t-shirts and hoodies?? You can make them one shots of you want too😁

shinee reacts: their s/o wearing their clothes

heyyy~ i really liked this request because i personally love to do this. for this request, i want to try something new since you gave me an idea with the one-shots part. so instead of describing their reactions, i'll convey it in a form of a short story. it will still be per member! i hope you will like this one (heads up though, the posts is a bit longer than my usual shinee reacts) <3

p.s. if you guys can, kindly let me know if you like this kind of format for shinee reacts. thank you!

send in your requests here!

onew / jinki: you sighed for the nth time within just 10 short minutes. you were staring and pouting in front of your closet for you can't find the perfect clothes for your brunch date with onew. it was a hot day today and you just wanted to wear something cute but comfortable. however, it seems like your wardrobe doesn't offer that kind of outfit.

your eyes slowly traveled toward onew's part of the closet. his side was full of quirky graphic tees which you always find adorable. you don't usually borrow his clothes but you can't help but to take a peek at them and take the one that caught your eyes.

it was a white oversized shirt with a cute box cartoon drawn in front of it. you tried it on and it stopped perfectly on your thighs, making it look like a cute dress. surprisingly, it even matches the pair of sneakers you were wearing.

before you can even decide whether you were keeping it on or not, onew walked into your room. his hair a bit damp and he was only wearing a towel considering that he just took a shower.

"oh, is that my shirt?" he pointed at you.

"uh... yeah. do you mind? i just wanted to wear something that is yours." you sheepishly replied.

"no problem!" he beamed his big bright smile before proceeding to get his own outfit.

you muttered a thank you then went to your vanity to finish touching up your makeup. afterward, you grabbed your phone and wallet and placed them inside your shoulder bag.

"alright, I'm ready to go..." you trailed off as you saw what he looked like. "what the hell are you wearing, lee jinki?"

"your shirt?" he raised an eyebrow, clearly feigning ignorance.

he was wearing your favorite grey t-shirt and it looked pitiful on him, it was as if it can tear at any moment. it barely covered his abdomen and was stretched to its limit.

"no shit, sherlock." you facepalmed at his usual weirdness. "what i want to know is why... why are you wearing it?"

"i thought we were doing a thing wherein we wear each other's clothes." he shrugged as if his response should be expected.

"what? no! please have mercy on my shirt and put on your own clothes." you can't help but laugh at him as you pushed him back to the dresser.

"alright, alright! i just wanted to make you laugh and look, it worked perfectly." he playfully pinched the tip of your nose before taking off the top he borrowed. "also, you should keep that shirt since it looks a hundred--no, million--times better on you."

"thanks, love," you whispered as you wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled him into a warm hug.

key / kibum:

after the long busy months, you were finally having a girl's night with your best friends. you stood in front of the full-length mirror in your room to give yourself a final check. your hair was styled into textured waves and your lips were colored with the boldest red lipstick you can find. your nude heels matched the little black dress you were wearing. your outfit looked almost perfect and you just knew what you were missing. you quickly snatched key's gold leather jacket and put it on. ah, perfection.

this was the norm for you. your boyfriend's wardrobe was beyond incredible especially his outerwear collection and you just had to wear them every chance you can get. to be honest, key was very stubborn in letting you borrow his clothes... at first. after all the compromising, begging, and crying you made, he eventually budged and gave up. of course, it does not come for free. he practically made you sign a contract that once you stained his clothes, you have to shoulder the bill of the laundry and the shop will be chosen by him. however, if you damaged or god forbid, lost his clothes, you have to replace them. you immediately said yes to all of the conditions in a heartbeat. so far you only paid for 2 incredulously expensive laundry bills.

now, you were finally ready to leave. you walked out of the bedroom and made your way down the living room. there, key was sitting on the couch watching one of his favorite tv series.

"I'll be going out now," you announced as you grab your car keys near the front door.

"hey, hey, hey!" key clicked his tongue upon seeing your clothes. he was now looking behind his shoulder and giving you a stink eye. "is that my jacket?"

"um... maybe?" you gave him an awkward smile.

"of course, it's mine." he shook his head disapprovingly. "only i can pull that off, by the way." he sassily added.

"wow, i didn't know the fashion police was here. you should have given me a head's up, babe ." you bit back with a scoff. the last time you checked, you looked damn fine in it.

"just stating facts, baby," he replied in english.

"alright, then why don't you take me shopping then? so you can buy me a new set of clothes that will satisfy your standards." you challenged and if he said yes, you were clearly the winner.

"excuse me, i do call you 'baby' but i am not your sugar daddy. go now, you'll be late." he shooed you off.

"okay bye," a playful smirk appeared on your face. "daddy."

this made key rolled his eyes before turning his back on you. he would very much rather ignore you if you keep on acting that way.

"it's bye now, for real." you giggled as you open the door. "love you!" you called out before stepping out.

"love you too, brat." key mumbled with a small smile.

minho:

winter was approaching and the air was slowly becoming colder than usual. it was the best time to stay in the comfort of your warm home and enjoy hot cocoa with your loved ones. a perfect time to wear your sweaters and hoodies indoors. however, this was not the case for minho for his favorite hoodie was missing.

"hey, babe?" he called out from the bedroom. "have you seen my black hoodie? the one with the white writings on it."

"what's that, i didn't hear you?" you went inside a few seconds later.

and there it was, his favorite hoodie being worn by his favorite person. you looked smaller while wearing it since it was way too big for you. the hem almost touched your knees and your whole arms were lost inside the sleeves. he can't help but smile at the sight.

"nothing, i was just looking for my hoodie but it looks like i found it." he gestured at the clothes you were wearing.

"oh, shoot. sorry, i didn't tell you that i borrowed it." you hit your forehead with your palm.

"it's okay. you're free to use them anytime, anyway." he patted the top of your head.

within the last few weeks, minho noticed that you sometimes wear his clothes. it was not a daily thing though and you even asked for his permission. slowly, it became every day and he would just be surprised to see you walking around the house parading his jackets and sweaters. he didn't mind it though, he was just curious about what you do to your own clothing. also, he hoped that he still had some remaining tops for himself during the cold season.

well, guess luck was not on his side.

his eyes were staring at his closet wherein there was only one jacket left, one. you followed his gaze and you promptly felt the warmth raised to your cheeks. you were surely red from embarrassment now. you were happily wearing his clothes that you didn't have the time to count how much was left.

"oh my god, i'm sorry! i didn't--" you cut yourself off as you watched him put on the lone jacket from his dresser. "i'm sorry, i didn't notice it. i just... can't help myself. your jackets are so comfortable and warm compare to mine." you tried to explain yourself. also not to mention that they all smelled just like him.

"don't worry about it." he reassured you as he placed his arm around your shoulder. "just be mindful next time. i might end up half-naked someday, you know."

"how can you be so sure that's not my goal?" you teased before sticking your tongue out.

he laughed at your silliness and then pressed a soft kiss on your warm forehead. you decided to make a cup of hot cocoa for him as a peace offering.

taemin:

it was past midnight and it was raining cats and dogs outside. you visited taemin in his apartment for a stay-at-home dinner date but a storm came before you can even go back home. taemin then convinced you to spend the night there instead. it was not a big deal anyway since you stayed over a lot of times already. you just didn't bring your sleepover bag with you and the dress you were wearing was definitely not comfortable to sleep on.

your caring boyfriend of course promised to ease your worries. the two of you shared a warm bath after dinner and he lent you his clothes for you to change to. so that was how you ended up on his couch, fighting off sleep because the show you both were watching always had a cliffhanger ending per episode. you two needed some answers before you can drift off to sleep peacefully. it was the weekend tomorrow anyway so staying up late won't hurt that much.

your head was laying on his lap while his right hand was playing on the locks of your hair and his left one was comfortably resting on the top of your hip. his hand would occasionally rub circles on the exposed skin. as much as you hate to move from your cozy spot, you had to or else you might end up dozing off right there and then. not to mention, him playing on your hair does not help at all.

you slowly got up from the sofa as you tried to stifled a yawn. "i'll just go get some cold drink." you pushed yourself up from your seat.

you then raised your arms and stretched with a satisfied groan. your shoulders and back were sore after laying down for more or less 3 hours. you can even hear your joints cracking from stretching out. also, you felt the shirt you were wearing raised up.

taemin's shirts were not overly huge for you whenever you wore them. the hem barely covered your behind and right now you were sure that a tiny portion of your buttcheeks was peeking through the white tee. you weren't conscious about it, taemin saw much more than that anyway.

suddenly, you felt a slap across your behind which made you freeze on your spot. you looked behind and saw your boyfriend confidently leaning on the couch with his legs crossed.

"did you just slap my butt?" you inquired.

"uh-huh," he nodded with a cocky grin. "want me to spank you again?"

you frowned a little as you processed the sudden change of mood. taemin won't deny it though, seeing you in his shirts always made his heart skip a bit and his breathing ragged. you always looked effortlessly sexy in them.

"sure, why not?" you replied wickedly after a few seconds of silence.

taemin processed your answer in a split second and he hastily grabbed you by the waist and threw you on his broad shoulders. he did not forget you give you another smack on the ass when he made his way toward the bedroom, the television was completely forgotten.

#shinee #shinee reacts #shinee reactions #onew #key #minho #taemin #shinee react #shinee reaction #shinee x reader #shinee x you #lee jinki #kim kibum #choi minki #lee taemin #shinee world #shinee hoodie #shinee shirt #shinee jacket

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mayans-sauce · 3 years

Text

Break Up, Make Up (3/3)

Pairing: Bishop Losa x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.4K

Warnings: hint of smut-ish, a little angst, mention of dead Riz :(

A/N: last part of the Break Up, Make Up series! Sorry it’s a little late. Thank you to everyone for showing love and support for the first two parts! It means so much to me as this has been one of my favorite things to write! Enjoy this little ending <3

• Part 1 • Part 2

GROUP CHAT for updates!

Gif Credit: @pedropcl

The feel of the bright morning sun shining through the window blinds warming your skin was what woke you up from the deep slumber. The window was slightly ajar, which let the crisp air from outside spread through the room. Bishop wasn’t by your side when you searched for his comfort and body to cuddle against. You scanned the space of any trace of him, and that’s when you heard his soft voice singing in the shower.

It wasn’t often Bishop sang. The only times he did was when he was sure that no one was around to hear. But you had caught the sweet melody of him a few times, and you always treasured the moment to the fullest. Just laying there on the soft bed with your eyes closed as you listened to his beautiful voice.

After some time, your mind started racing to last night's activities. It was unlike anything you had ever done before. Bishop was known to be hard and rough with you in the sheets from time to time but last night was a whole new experience that was hopefully going to happen again in the future.

You heard the water shut off, and not a minute later; he emerged from the bathroom. His eyes met yours when he opened the door. A wide and beautiful smile on his face as he saw you lying there with nothing but a thin sheet covering the most sensitive parts of you. “Mornin’ beautiful.” “Good morning to you, too handsome.”

Your eyes couldn’t help but admire him. All he had around himself was a towel low on his hips, showing you his trail that led to the part of him that had your mouth water in need and your core desperate to be filled. A few drops from the shower were running down his Godly body that you wanted to lick off to feel him under your tongue. Your mind started fantasizing about him bending you over the bed and taking you hard from behind as he pleased. You felt yourself throbbing, and you needed to clench your thighs together to stop yourself from thinking any further.

“How did you sleep?” His voice was so deep, and it didn’t make it any easier with the whole scenario you were picturing in your head. “Go-good.” He felt you were nervous because of his presence, and it left a smirk on his stunning face. He came to sit down beside you. “I was going to ask you to join me in the shower, but I figured you must be pretty tired from last night.” He had his warm hand on your shoulder, caressing the soft skin. “Yeah, I’m pretty worn out… but it was good… more than good, it was perfect. It was extremely... mind-blowing.” His heavenly laugh made you smile out. “I enjoyed myself very much, sweetheart, more than you know.” “Me too.” A long kiss was left on your forehead, which made butterflies explode in you at its softness. “I’ll prepare breakfast while you get ready, and then we can talk.”

Talk… right… You both still had some things to talk through with the stuff said a few days before. You hadn’t told him yet, but you already forgave him last night when he was cuddling you so soft and lovingly like only he could after fucking you good and raw. But this would be an opportunity to strengthen your relationship even more if the conversation went in the right direction.

After the shower, you chased the mouthwatering smell of breakfast as you walked downstairs to the kitchen. Bishop was putting what he made on two plates for you to enjoy as you walked in. It was so lovely to see him out of leather and in his home attire, moving around comfortably and happy in your shared house.

Always being a gentleman, he pulled the chair out for you to sit on. “This looks so delicious, babe, thank you.” “Thought you would need some good nutrition from the workout I put you through last night.” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him with the tiniest of a cocky smirk, clearly very proud of himself and his accomplishments. You gave him a look that said, “shut up, we know,” which made both of you chuckle.

There was a comfortable silence as you ate, but you could still feel the slight tension in the air about the conversation that would be. “Should we move into the living room?” He questioned when both of you had finished the plates. “Yeah, sure.”

Once you were both seated on the couch next to each other, knees touching, he let out a deep breath while taking your hands in his. His thumb was caressing the back of yours. He kept looking at you the entire time as he talked. He wanted you to know his feelings entirely, and it was told with more than just words. His eyes and facial expressions also held his feelings and honesty.

“I’m sorry about the way I acted. It was shitty of me. I should have let you in instead of pushing you out when Riz died. But I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you when I was already feeling so low and grieving my brother. It ate me up inside, and I started thinking irrational thoughts. I know we belong together, and I’m so sorry for fucking up big time… I love you, and I will never stop loving you, caring for you, and protecting you. I want to marry you, have babies, create magical memories, grow old and gray as we are surrounded with our many grandkids, and then still be close as we are buried together for all eternity. You’re the best thing that has entered my life, and I can’t live without you; you are what keeps me going when I want to give up. You are what brings me love, joy, and comfort when I need it the most, so… please can you forgive me, sweetheart?”

You saw how much it was tearing him to pieces that he had hurt you so deeply with his words. It was hurtful, but you could have been a good partner and stuck around, despite him pushing you away, so he didn’t need to feel so alone and lost. But for you, at that moment, it felt like the right decision for both. Your eyes clenched together hard to prevent the tears from falling.

“You have nothing to be sorry about, Obispo. I’m the one that’s sorry for walking out when you needed me the most. I know you were only thinking about what's best for me and my safety… but I’ve chosen to be with you and love you for the rest of my life, and that comes with some risks that I’m willing to take and not think twice about.”

You took the sides of his face in your hands so he could properly look at you and feel your complete honesty with him. “I love you, Obispo, and that’s so much more important than some fight. I love you, and you love me. We are both healthy and here in this world together. Let’s just enjoy each other while we are both still breathing… we never know what will happen tomorrow, and that’s not in our hands, so just,” your foreheads touched as you whispered the last words, “let’s just be here and live our lives in the love we have for one another.”

He let out a breath of relief that you both managed to work this out. His arms wrapped around your body in the most warming and reassuring hug the two of you had ever shared between each other. Your legs lifted to drape over his to keep the closeness. His lips left light kisses all over your neck and shoulder as he rested his head where he belonged. The feel of his beard was tickling you, but it made you feel so at home and safe as you were loving and cuddling one another. “You know I will never let anything happen to you as long as I’m alive, querida… never.” “I know Bishop… I know…”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Thank you for reading❤️ If you liked it, a quick reblog and feedback would be so much appreciated❤️ Let me know if you want to be added/removed from the taglist.

MAYANS MC TAGLIST: @blessedboo @60shannon @bellisperennis0 @capnsaveahoe @diaryofkali @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @xvvalx @missswritings @theocatkov @pinguinstudiert @chibsytelford @encounterthepast @rawrlittlepanda-95 @beeroses @siriussnape07 @adaydreamaway08 @miss-nori85 @oldstuffnewstuff @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @jatriciaaa @browneyes912 @cole-winchester @blackksunflower12 @phoenixhalliwell @cant-decide-at-this-moment @love-mesome-me @holl2712 @jennisdirtyimagines @balladbloodwrites @lilacyennefer @smallflower16 @marvelmaree @brwnlikefoxy @kaylaygrace @stupiddsapphicc @violet624 @boomclapxox @mijop @macgruberrr @queen-under-the-shire @missihart23 @vixemi @heeeeeres-saint @paintballkid711 @x-goddess-of-nature-x @angelreyesisdaddy04 @mrsmarvelous1995 @luckyharley1903 @lilac-tea-time @leilaxaliel @gizmosworld23

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voltagesmutter · 3 years

Text

Obey Me: Asmo - “Toys aren’t only for playtime”.

Fandom: Obey Me Pairing: Asmo x MC (F) Prompt: “Toys aren’t only for playtime”.Warning: Toy’s in public use. - Day 12 from @voltage-vixen christmas list. Warning: Toy’s in public use. Notes: For my second raffle winner @katattacktime - Thank you for entering.

She should have known better. She should have known that christmas shopping with Asmo was not going to be a simple walk in the park. And she really should have known that when he said ‘Let’s go toy shopping’ that the twinkle of mischief in his eyes meant a different type of toy to the one she was thinking of.

“Asmo! I-! Put that down,” Her face as red as the rouge, leather collar he was holding up.

“Oh come on sweetie, you would look so adorable in this,” He giggled, stretching out the collar to the small customisable dog tag on it. ‘Please, please, please!”

“Asmo, I am not wearing that.” Hiding her face in her hands as utter embarrassment took over.

“Okay okay,” He rolled his eyes, setting it down. The shop Asmo had dragged her into seemed innocent enough at the front but through the twisted racks of clothing was a hidden ‘adults only section’ behind a beaded curtain. There was floor to ceiling shelves of various sex toys from whips to fleshlights, vibrators, chains attached to leashes and everything you could imagine. The couple had spoken about bring toys into the bedroom before but wanted to experience it together, Asmo was the king of sex toys both using them by himself and with previous one-night stands. Whereas she was new to the idea. “Let’s look about yeah?”.

His hand intertwined with hers, walking from section to section until something caught her eye. A cock ring with ribbed edges, attached with bullet rabbit ears.

“You like it?” Asmo wrapped his arm around her waist and gave her a gentle squeeze as she nodded. “How does it- how does it work?” Asmo let out a little chuckle at her question, he was a sex guide guru. “So this goes under the balls,” He snapped the bigger of the two circles, “And this smaller ring goes in front of them.” gesturing to the ribbed smaller ring.

“Does that not hurt…?” Eyes widened as he stretched the latex over his fingers.

“It’s really stretchy, although with my size we need the biggest one available,” Waggling his eyebrows as she playfully elbowed him in the ribs. “But the point is to keep it erect, it prolongs climaxes.”

“Oh you definitely need that then.” She laughed. It was his turn to go red at her comment, letting out a ‘hmph’ as he tickled her side making her squeal. “Okay, okay, and these bits?” She flicked the rabbit ears.

“These rest against your clit,” Asmo clicked the side and watched her gasp as they came to life, vibrating up and down in a speedful motion. “So what do you think?” He grinned, she struggled more with penetrational climaxes, her clit being the spot that made her eyes roll and her voice sing. He didn’t even finish the question and she already grabbed a box from the stand and made her way to the counter, leaving a mischievous Asmo to grab a few additional surprises.

“Asmo, these are beautiful.” Holding up the underwear he had sneakily brought her. Simple black lace with pink ribbons tied to the side.

“Why don’t slip them on now?” Fingers already brushing on the edge of her skirt and ready to hitch it up.

“Asmo!” She squealed, “We have dinner, we can’t be late.. Again,”. Last time they were late to dinner after some light kisses turned into the bed rocking, Lucifer had forced them apart for a week - although when they were reunited their room rocked constantly for almost two days straight.

“I know, I know!” Wrapping his arms around her waist and hugging her close. “Why don’t you slip them on for dinner, I think it will be hot to know you're wearing these.” He pressed teasing kisses along her forehead, moving down her cheek before hovering against her lips. “And when we're back, I’ll get to take them off and we can use our new stuff,” He pressed a gentle kiss before back, “Sounds good?” She gave a quick nod, excited at what was to come. The man in the shop had recommended some water based lubed to go with it, and the girl had ended up spending an extra ten minutes listening and being shown the best lubrication recommendations.

She hitched up her skirt, slid off the underwear she was wearing and kicked it to Asmo with a cheeky wink. Stepping into the material she pulled them up, lifting her skirt up playfully as Asmo gave her a teasing wink and a low growl. She was so overcome with his gift she failed to notice the small vibrator built into the pad of the cotton that rested right against her slit.

“Will you excuse me,” Asmo’s hands on top of hers giving it a squeeze as he stood up and left for the bathroom. The rest of the brothers and the girl carrying on their conversation whilst indulging in their food.

“So I seen ya come back with lotsa bags, watch ya buy?” Mammon slurping down his soup between words.

“Mammon, don’t speak and eat it’s rude,” Lucifer sighed, resting his face on his palm. “But yes dear, you seemed rather happy when you came home. Something good I presume?”

“Oh just, some.. new underwear and stuff,” Her face blushing slightly as she tried quickly to think of a response. Mammon opposite her chocking slightly, his face red at her words.

“Beel! Lucifer, Beel’s eating my food!” Leviathan huffing as Beel took several spoonfuls from his bowl.

“You weren't eating and I’m just so hungry,” Beel whined before kicking Levithan under the table, “That’s for being an ass!”

“Ouch, Beel you idiot! That was me,” Satan cursed, glaring at his brother who bashfully apologised.

The young girl would have laughed if a warm flood hadn’t spread through her, something felt off and it wasn’t the toad-soup. A gentle buzz grew between her thighs, not loud enough to be heard but strong enough to be felt. The underwear vibrated and rubbed right against her sweet spots.

“Oh god…” She gasped, gripping the spoon in her hand tightly. All of the brothers quickly turned to her at her chosen words of outburst. “S-sorry, I thought I saw a.. toad move,”.

She knew the minute Asmo walked in with a smug grin on his face that this was his doing. The vibrations pulsing against her making her core clench tightly in anticipation.

“You okay there?” Asmo teased at her red face, placing his hand on her and giving it a squeeze.

“I’m going to fucking kill you!” She hissed into his ear, the spoon bending in her grip as her stomach tightened.

“I heard fucking and I can’t wait,” He winked, flashing her a smile that made a new flood of liquid gush between her thighs.

“We were just on about your shopping trip before Levithan so rudely interrupted,” Lucifer continued on with the conversation.

“Oh really now,” Asmo grinned, as the girl rubbed her thighs together underneath the table, “What did my sweetie tell you?”

“Underwear shopping,” Belphegor grunted, scooping up the soup before dropping it back down in the bowl. Beel’s eyes watching his movements as he licked his lips.

“We also did some toy shopping didn’t we sweetie?” Chuckling in amusement at the glare she shot him. “For Christmas of course!”

“Well that’s very good of you, getting a head of the game.” Lucifer nodded. The poor girl felt the tension in her stomach reaching boiling point, biting her lip and tensing her jaw to keep the moans from slipping out. The underwear vibrated perfectly against her clit, pretending to rub her eyes as they rolled to the back of her head. She was close, very close and she looked desperately to Asmo to stop this before she climaxed right there.

“You idiot! Beel! Lucifer, he bit me! Beel let go!” Belphegor screamed out, everyone at the table turning their attention to him. The youngest of the brothers had his twin latched onto his fist, the spoon and part of his hand disappeared into Beel’s mouth.

“Diavolo, give me strength.” Lucifer sighed, getting up quickly as he ran to the other of the table, “Beel, let go!”

The rest of the brothers, excluding Asmo, got up to help pry Beel away. The young girl grateful for the distraction as the vibrations sent her over the edge, clenching over nothing as she came. Small whines caught into her palm as she quickly covered her mouth, the yells of Belph masking any noise she made. As she came down the buzzing stopped, Asmo reaching into his pocket and turning off the vibrations.

“I hate you..” She panted, her skin hot and her blood on fire whilst her high finally came to a stop and her thighs stopped clamping together. “I can’t believe that just happened…”

“Hehe no you don’t sweetie,” He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek, wrapping his arm around her shoulder as he pulled her closer. “Besides,” He whispered softly into her ear, “Toys are not just for playtime or in the bedroom.” He winked and nipped her ear before pulling away, standing up and pulling her with him. The young girl shoving her chair in, mortified at the wet spot slightly visible on the fabric.

As they got round the corner from the room, Asmo pressed her against the wall, his erection pressing into her thigh as he nipped her lower lip. “What do you say we go play then?” His grin smug as her lust filled eyes sparkled up at him and a small nod was her response.

Toys and teasing became a big part of their relationship after that night, each trying to out the other. A handjob under the table at breakfast, eating out and a vibrator whilst on the phone, blowjobs with flavoured lube under the library desk, fucking against Lucifers desk, vibrating panties worn to school. But the best thing about their sex life, was the trust they shared with each other. - That and the cock-ring, that was used to the point it ran out of batteries within 24 hours of having it.

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#tis the season for smut #‘tis the season for smut #obey me #obey me asmo smut #obey me asmo x mc #shall we date asmo #shall we date asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me asmo x reader #obey me asmodeus #obey me smut

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eratobard · 3 years

Note

Pining prompt 3. Character A secretly keeps a piece of Character B’s clothes to comfort them when they are away for Geraskier please?

Thank you so much for the prompt! XD

This um, turned out way longer than I intended. Oops ^^;

Fandom: The Witcher

Rating: G

Pairing: Geraskier, Geralt x Jaskier

Length: ~5K

Summary: Geralt discovers he finds comfort in Jaskier’s smell.

AO3

~~~

The effect Jaskier's scent had on him had been gradual. Geralt had been searching his bags for a particular shirt, and couldn’t find it. He huffed in frustration as he stared at his belongings which were now dumped on the bed.

Jaskier glanced up from his lute, his fingers pausing from tuning it, “What’s wrong?”

Geralt sighed as he pushed his hair out of his face, “I can’t find my black button up.”

Jaskier snorted as he quirked an eyebrow, “Most of your shirts are black button ups. You’ll have to be more specific.”

Geralt frowned as he continued to search his bags. “You know, the one that…” he trailed off as he motioned to his side with his hand, “and has the rounded buttons.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes, “Certainly darling, it’s all so clear now. Let me check my bags to see if it got mixed up.” Jaskier set down his lute, walking across the room to his bags. It didn’t take him long to find a piece of black cloth among his colorful garb. “Here it is.”

He held it out to Geralt triumphantly. Geralt grumbled as he snatched the garment away from him, “Why was it with your things?”

Jaskier shrugged and sat back down with his lute, “It’s bound to happen with how often we travel together.”

Geralt stuffed his belongings back into his bags, taking off the shirt he was wearing and shoving it in with the other items. As he pulled the new shirt over his head the distinct smell of Jaskier entered his nose.

It wasn’t a bad smell. Jaskier was always careful with his perfume selection. Lately he had chosen subtle scents when he traveled with Geralt. His favorite as of late seemed to be sandalwood with a touch of lavender. Geralt had become accustomed to the bard’s scent, but rarely had he ever smelled it so close to his person. He found it… strangely calming. It must be the effects of the lavender. He shrugged off the feeling as he resumed organizing his things before bed. He slept very well that night.

~~~

He hadn’t started to notice the effect Jaskier’s scent had on him till later. They had been traveling for several weeks. No hospitable inn in sight. Occasionally they had been able to spend the nights in farmer’s barns, but otherwise they camped. The lack of baths didn’t bother Geralt, but it was taking its toll on Jaskier.

“You stink.”

Geralt grunted, “So do you.”

Jaskier whined, “I know. Let’s do something about it. Please.”

Geralt shrugged, “We took a bath in the stream.”

“Yes, but you didn’t clean your clothes.”

Geralt frowned as he glanced at Jaskier. He was currently searching for something in his pack. “I did too.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes as he pulled out a bar of soap. “Yes, you scrubbed out all the monster goo, but you didn’t use soap.”

“Why would I need soap?”

Jaskier sighed, “To make it smell nice.”

It was Geralt’s turn to roll his eyes. He grabbed his sword, checking it over for any signs of damage.

“If you won’t do it, at least let me,” Jaskier pouted. “You complain about my flowery scents all the time, but I don’t understand how you can reek of monster entrails and not be bothered.”

Geralt made the mistake of looking at Jaskier. His blue eyes combined with his pushed out lower lip broke Geralt’s resolve. “...What does it smell like?”

Jaskier brightened up when he realized Geralt was caving, “Nothing too strong. Citrus. A very clean smell.”

Geralt sighed and nodded his head, “Fine, but you’re the one cleaning them. I don’t care to rewash my clothes just so they smell nice.”

Jaskier jumped up and clapped his hands together, “Of course! Leave it to me!”

When Geralt’s clothes had finished drying, Jaskier handed them back to him with a bright smile on his face. “Here you go. Don’t they smell so much better than before?”

Geralt raised an eyebrow as he took a whiff of one of his shirts. Citrus, but there was also a hint of something else. The memory of when his shirt had smelled of Jaskier came to mind. That same calming scent was mixed with the citrus. He grunted in response before shoving them back in his bag.

Jaskier crossed his arms over his chest indignantly, “See if I ever try to do something nice for you, ungrateful.”

Geralt didn’t want to encourage Jaskier’s pushy behavior but his clothes did smell better. He mumbled a thanks before resuming tending to his swords. He wondered if Jaskier had heard it considering his quiet behavior. When he glanced over he saw a small smile on Jaskier’s lips and a slight pink on his cheeks.

Before going to bed that night he decided to change into a “clean” shirt. Jaskier’s scent enveloped him and he found himself easily drifting off to sleep.

~~~

When the two temporarily parted ways, Geralt felt strangely on edge. He had a hard time sleeping, usually tossing and turning all night. One night, when Jaskier had been away for a few days, Geralt had been digging in his bag and fished out a shirt that had been shoved to the bottom. Jaskier’s subtle woodsy floral scent wafted from the fabric. Geralt still had one of the “clean” shirts Jaskier washed.

He brought it to his nose and inhaled deeply. A calm feeling immediately washed over him. He shoved the shirt over his head, pulling his arms through. It took him no time at all to fall asleep.

He had worn the shirt as long as he could while they were separated, but eventually the smell of Jaskier had disappeared. He felt a pang in his chest at the thought, but was comforted by the fact that he would see Jaskier soon again. Once Geralt had finished his contract, and Jaskier his performance at a festival they would reunite at the discussed location.

Geralt found himself spurring Roach on so he could arrive at the town sooner. Although, the act was foolish. Jaskier wouldn’t be traveling any faster to get there sooner.

He was pleasantly surprised to see Jaskier already performing at the tavern when he arrived. Geralt couldn’t help but smile as he watched the bard bounce around the room, sweat covering his brow.

When Jaskier finished his set he skipped over to Geralt. He greeted him warmly as he wrapped his arms around his waist and pressed his cheek against Geralt’s chest. “Geralt! I didn’t think you’d get here so soon!”

Geralt took a deep breath. The soothing scent of Jaskier filling his lungs as Jaskier’s hair tickled his nose. He hummed as he returned the hug. “The contract finished early,” he lied. “What about you?”

Jaskier pulled back and laughed, patting Geralt on the chest, “Melitele favored me as well. I was able to hitch a ride with a farmer who was heading in the same direction.”

Geralt nodded, but was a bit distracted trying to take in Jaskier’s calming scent as subtly as possible. He found himself sitting closer to Jaskier when they sat down to eat. Warmth filled his chest as the smell of lavender, sandalwood and Jaskier enveloped him. Listening to Jaskier detail what he did during their time apart came second to Geralt enjoying the calm feeling that washed over him.

“Um… Geralt?”

Geralt snapped out of the meditative state he had fallen into when he noticed the anxiety in Jaskier’s voice. He pulled back, noticing he had openly moved into Jaskier’s space, his nose a few centimeters from Jaskier’s hair. He grunted an apology, “Sorry, I guess I’m more tired than I thought.”

A blush painted Jaskier’s cheeks. He nodded, “It’s okay… I got us a room earlier. We can head up now if you want.”

Geralt’s heart sank at the prospect of no longer being close to Jaskier, but it was probably for the best. His scent was becoming so hypnotizing that he didn’t seem to be thinking properly. He was behaving uncharacteristically.

His melancholy was short-lived when he saw the room had only one bed. His heart jumped at the prospect of sleeping next to Jaskier. Jaskier apologized as he set down his bag, “They didn’t have a room with two beds. I can sleep on the floor if you--”

“No!” Geralt quickly interrupted. He cleared his throat and calmed himself when he saw the shocked expression on Jaskier’s face. “What I mean is… it’s big enough. We can share… assuming you don’t mind.”

Jaskier laughed and waved his hand, “Of course not.” He pulled off his doublet, stripping down to his chemise and smalls. Geralt had to force his gaze away from watching Jaskier undress. He took off his leather pants and crawled into bed. He did his best to still his heart as he felt Jaskier slide in next to him under the covers.

Jaskier smiled shyly at him before turning away, “Good night.”

Geralt grunted his reply. Instead of facing the opposite direction he chose to stare at the ceiling. Jaskier shifted a bit, and a waft of his natural musk filled the air. Geralt frowned as he squeezed his eyes closed and tried to ignore the warmth pooling in his stomach. He had felt so relaxed by Jaskier’s smell before, but now… now he was feeling a different kind of way towards it.

Geralt gripped the blanket and rolled onto his side. He fought the urge to press up against Jaskier’s body and breathe deeply. The idea sent a shiver down his spine. He was so close. His Witcher eyes could easily see the outline of Jaskier’s body in the dark. The curve of his hips, his broad shoulders, the slight dip into his neck…

Geralt breathed in deeply to calm his growing arousal. That was a mistake.

He huffed as he shifted to his back again. He forced his eyes closed and tried to focus on something, anything other than the warm soothing presence of Jaskier next to him and how he wanted to do nothing but hold him close. Maybe run his hands along his body--

His eyes snapped open when he felt a gentle touch against his forehead. Jaskier pulled back slightly when Geralt jerked away. He had been so distracted he hadn’t even noticed Jaskier move.

“Sorry,” Jaskier mumbled, “You seemed to be having a fit. I thought you might be having a nightmare. I thought to soothe you to sleep…”

Geralt shook his head, “It’s… fine. I was only having trouble falling asleep.”

Jaskier nodded, fully pulling his hand away. Geralt mourned the reaction. If he was braver he would have asked Jaskier to continue what he intended.

“If you would like,” Jaskier spoke softly, “I could brew you some chamomile tea?”

Geralt shook his head. He didn’t think it would calm the thoughts swirling through his mind. He was coming to realize he had new feelings toward Jaskier. Feelings he didn’t want to confront.

“What can I do?” Jaskier hummed in thought, “Perhaps I can sing a lullaby?” Jaskier chuckled and shook his head, “Nevermind, that’s silly…”

“Yes,” Geralt responded before he could think. He quickly amended his statement when he saw the hurt on Jaskier’s face and realized he misunderstood. “I mean, yes, please sing for me.”

Jaskier’s face brightened, and he nodded, propping himself on his elbow. Geralt had always found Jaskier’s voice to be beautiful, but there was something special, enchanting even, about Jaskier’s voice when he sang acapella. He wondered if there were many who had heard Jaskier’s voice without an instrument accompaniment. The idea that he might be one of a few made his chest warm with a possessive energy he wasn’t used to.

The song Jaskier chose was soft and soothing, like most lullabies. Though the subject matter was not one you would sing to a child before bed. It was a tale of two lovers, separated from each other, and the longing they felt. It told how they counted each moment till they could be reunited. Geralt imagined how he would feel the same were he to be separated from Jaskier for a long time. As he came to this realization, he drifted off to sleep.

~~~

Geralt felt irritated and bitter. He tried not to let it show in his demeanor, but he was shit at it. Jaskier glanced at him worriedly, “I’m sorry you have to go to all this trouble--”

Geralt cut him off. It wasn’t Jaskier’s fault he felt this way. Not exactly. “It’s not that. I’m fine escorting you to Oxenfurt. I don’t mind traveling farther to ensure your safe arrival. I’m only upset I can’t help with expenses.” It wasn’t a complete lie. So far there hadn’t been any contracts on the way to Oxenfurt, but the real reason for his upset was the impending separation from Jaskier while he wintered in Oxenfurt.

Jaskier smiled, “You’ve covered for me often enough. Let me return the favor.”

Geralt huffed, smirking, “I suppose so. It’s about time you pulled your own weight.”

Jaskier squawked indignantly, “I pull my weight!” Geralt only hummed in response. Jaskier’s lower lip jutted out petulantly. The action made Geralt’s heart squeeze in his chest.

He reached out and ruffled Jaskier’s hair, wringing more frustrated noises from the bard, “We’re almost to the next town. You can prove it there.”

Jaskier glared, no real heat behind his eyes as he adjusted his mussed hair. “I shall. I’ll fill our purse with so much coin we’ll be able to rent the finest room, and our stomachs will burst with food.”

Geralt laughed, “I can’t wait.”

~~~

There must have been many traveling to Oxenfurt during this time of the year, for the tavern was fit to burst. Many patrons were more than eager enough to toss their coins to Jaskier as he pranced about the room. It never ceased to amaze Geralt how Jaskier was able to entrance the audience. Several women, and even some men seemed love struck as they watched Jaskier. He couldn’t blame them, but it didn’t stop a sharp feeling of jealousy from forming in his stomach.

Jaskier flopped down next to him, taking a break from his set. His smile was bright as he gazed across the room, appreciating the receptive audience. “See? I’ve barely even begun and I’ve already earned us more than enough coin for the rest of the trip.”

Geralt felt a pang in his chest. He was suddenly reminded that he would be parting from Jaskier soon. “Yes, you truly are a man of your word.”

Jaskier grinned, “Shall I get you an ale dear friend?”

Geralt stood, needing the distraction, “Let me. You rest.” Jaskier nodded, handing him the coin. He stalked to the bar and gruffly ordered drinks and food. Jaskier hadn’t asked, but he figured he would be starving after his performance. When he turned to head back to the table, he noticed a patron flirting with Jaskier. Jaskier was polite enough, but he didn’t seem interested in the advances of the drunk.

Geralt growled as he made his way back to the table. He slammed down their meals, startling Jaskier and the pushy fan. “He’s with me,” he snarled.

The man baulked at the size of Geralt before stumbling away, mumbling an apology as he left.

A blush covered Jaskier’s face as he reached toward his meal, “Thank you! I didn’t realize how hungry I was…”

Geralt nodded, suddenly feeling foolish at how he reacted. Jaskier wasn’t with him. Not really. Why did he say something so ridiculous? He shoveled a spoonful of the stew into his mouth.

Jaskier moaned as he ate the stew, “This is so delicious. I don’t think we’ve had a meal as good as this in a while.”

Geralt scoffed, “Vesemir’s cooking is better.”

Jaskier shrugged, taking another bite, “I wouldn’t know.”

The statement hung awkwardly in the air. This wasn’t the first time they had wintered separately, him in Kaer Morhen and Jaskier at Oxenfurt, but this separation felt different. Maybe it was because of his sudden realization of his feelings for Jaskier. Or maybe it was all in his head.

Jaskier stood up abruptly, “Well, the audience awaits.” Geralt watched as he left to finish out his set. He felt a sting in his chest.

Jaskier spent the rest of the night performing, almost in an attempt to avoid Geralt. Maybe it wasn’t all in his head.

Geralt sighed. If Jaskier didn’t want to see him then he wouldn’t force him. He’d go to bed early. If they got up early enough, they could make it to Oxenfurt the next day. Then Jaskier could be rid of him and his gloomy ways.

When he got to the room he saw their bags sitting on the beds. As he went to move them an idea formed in his mind. He frowned at his ridiculous idea, but the urge overpowered any foolishness he felt. He reached into Jaskier’s bag and pulled out one of his chemises. Jaskier would surely notice a doublet was missing, but an undergarment could easily be lost.

He pushed the fabric against his nose, inhaling deeply. The soothing scent of Jaskier temporarily calming the storm of emotions in his heart. He could still hear Jaskier’s music in the tavern below. He cleared off the bed and laid down, resting the undergarment next to his head. He could take a few moments to breathe in Jaskier’s smell. They would be separated for a while after all.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed while he was zoned out, inhaling the comforting scent of Jaskier. He sat up with a jolt when he noticed the tavern was devoid of music. He glanced around their room, and sighed in relief when he saw Jaskier wasn’t in sight. He must have remained downstairs to flirt with a pretty fan.

He quickly shoved the chemise into his bag. He had been stupid, relaxing so easily with the fabric when Jaskier could have come in at any moment. He leaned back in the bed and tried to calm his beating heart. A few minutes later he heard the familiar sound of Jaskier’s boots on the stairs. He wasn’t quiet as he stumbled into their room.

Jaskier beamed when he noticed Geralt was still awake, “Oh! Geralt, I thought you’d be sleeping by now.” The familiar scent of too much alcohol entered with Jaskier.

Geralt grimaced, “I was, but then I woke up.”

Jaskier pouted, shutting the door behind him. “Sorry,” he slurred, “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Geralt watched as he wobbled toward the mattress. Jaskier fell forward, shifting onto his back so he could pull off his boots. He struggled as he almost rolled off the bed. Geralt sighed and reached over to help him. “Why’d you get so drunk? We have to leave early in the morning.”

Jaskier tossed the boot with a grunt, “So ready to get rid of me are we? After I sang my lungs out all night to earn us coin?”

Geralt huffed as he watched Jaskier crawl clumsily onto the bed, struggling to get under the covers that were stuck under his knees. “That’s not… no, I’m just saying.”

Jaskier finally managed to pull the blanket out from under him. “If it takes us an extra day… that won’t be a problem, will it?”

“No… it won’t,” Geralt said softly.

Jaskier smiled, snuggling under the covers, “Good. I’d hate to be a bother.”

Geralt smiled fondly as he watched Jaskier turn and press against his chest, “You’re never a bother.”

Jaskier hummed, gripping Geralt’s shirt as he pulled him closer, “This okay?”

Geralt stifled a laugh as Jaskier fell asleep before he could respond. “Yeah… it’s more than okay.” He held Jaskier close as he buried his nose against his hair. This was probably the only time he could take in Jaskier’s smell like this. He’d savor it while he could.

~~~

Jaskier groaned as he gripped his head, “Why’d you let me drink so much?”

Geralt snorted, “I didn’t. I went to bed. You decided to stay up and spend your extra coin.”

Jaskier lurched forward as he spilled his stomach contents on the side of the road. He whined as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, “Fuck… Geralt… carry me… please?”

Geralt rolled his eyes, “I’m not going to carry you.”

Jaskier stumbled as he walked next to Geralt, “Then we’ll have to make camp. I can’t continue like this.”

Geralt indicated to Roach, “You can ride Roach.”

Jaskier stared at Geralt in horror, “And sway back and forth with every step? No thank you.” He leaned against Geralt, staring up at him through his dark lashes, his blue eyes shining. “Please Geralt? My wonderful White Wolf, and hero of mine?”

Geralt’s chest bubbled with affection for the bard. He growled, “Fine, but just this once. Don’t expect me to carry you every time you’re hungover--”

He was barely able to finish his sentence before Jaskier was gleefully jumping on his back. Jaskier nuzzled his cheek against Geralt’s as he wrapped his arms around his neck, “Thank you!”

Geralt grunted as he gripped Jaskier’s legs, holding them up around his waist, “If I tell you to get off, get off. I need to be able to get my swords off Roach quickly if we run into any danger.”

Jaskier nodded, his nose burying into the crook of Geralt’s neck, “Mhm, I understand.”

“And don’t you dare throw up on me!” Geralt groused.

A shiver ran down Geralt’s spine as Jaskier hummed against his neck.

“I won’t,” Jaskier murmured.

Geralt’s heart skipped a beat as Jaskier’s hair brushed against his cheek. He instinctively inhaled, the calming scent of Jaskier filling his lungs and warming his chest. He tried his best to not focus on Jaskier’s warm body against his back, his legs wrapped around his waist, and his arms flung over his shoulders. The soft breaths against his skin, the closeness of Jaskier’s lips…

Fuck.

He gripped Jaskier’s thighs tightly. It was meant to calm his nerves, but the moan it drew from Jaskier quickened his heart.

“Are we there yet?” Jaskier groaned as he gripped his head in pain.

Geralt chuckled, “Jaskier… we’ve barely even walked five feet since I’ve started carrying you.”

Geralt couldn’t see it, but he could practically hear the pout in Jaskier’s voice. “I wish we’d never get there.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow, “You don’t want to go to Oxenfurt?”

Geralt felt Jaskier shake his head as he buried his face in his shoulder, his arms gripping around Geralt tightly, “Not really…”

Geralt frowned, “Jaskier… if you didn’t want to go to Oxenfurt, why didn’t you say something? We’re almost there!” He felt annoyed, but also relieved at the prospect of not parting with Jaskier yet.

“I mean… I do but…” Jaskier huffed then lurched to the side, vomiting on the ground.

Geralt grimaced as some of it splashed onto his arm. He’d have to change shirts. He sighed, helping Jaskier to the ground as he continued to empty his stomach on the side of the road. Geralt walked over to Roach and grabbed their waterskin. He passed it to Jaskier when he finished throwing up.

Jaskier took it gratefully, chugging down the cold liquid.

“Easy,” Geralt advised, “You don’t want to make yourself sick.”

Jaskier groaned as he wiped at his mouth, “I’m sorry about your shirt.”

Geralt shrugged his shoulders as he carefully took it off, “It’ll wash.” He walked over to their bags, and fished out a new shirt. As he grabbed one, the chemise he borrowed from Jaskier fell to the ground.

Jaskier picked it up for him, and was about to hand it back when he paused, “This is… this is my chemise… what’s it doing in your bag?”

Geralt felt his heart stop in his chest. His brain worked overtime trying to piece together a reason for Jaskier’s undershirt being among his clothing. “I, um… it must have gotten mixed in with mine during laundry.”

Jaskier frowned, “...but… I packed this in my bag last night. I’m sure of it.”

Geralt fidgeted nervously. He tried to keep his voice calm as his face warmed, “How can you be sure? You have several undershirts.”

Jaskier pointed at the stitching around the collar, “This one is my favorite. I made sure I had it packed before we left. I put it in my bag.” He looked up from the shirt. “Geralt… did you take this on purpose?”

Geralt swore under his breath as he ran his hand over his face, “I… Yes, I’m sorry.”

Jaskier stared at him in confusion, “...why?”

There were several reasons, all of which were embarrassing. Geralt couldn’t sleep without Jaskier’s calming scent, he would miss Jaskier, he liked how Jaskier smelled, he figured the shirt would help lessen the pain of separating from Jaskier… He decided to choose the more innocent sounding one.

“Your perfume…” Geralt started unsurely.

Confusion still covered Jaskier’s face, but he waited patiently for Geralt to explain.

Geralt huffed as he tried to formulate the words, “The oils you wear, it’s a very calming smell. I found the scent helps me fall asleep easier… I was… too embarrassed to say anything. So I took a shirt that had your scent… the scent of your perfume.” He added the last bit quickly. He couldn’t look at Jaskier, but with how quiet he was being, Geralt had to glance up to gauge his reaction.

Jaskier’s face was red as he nodded his understanding, “I see… you shouldn’t be embarrassed. Lavender has been known to help with sleep… I can lend you a bottle if you like? It’d last you longer than a shirt.”

Geralt forced himself to nod. He clenched his fists as he watched Jaskier put his shirt away in his bag. He knew the bottle of oil wouldn’t be the same. It wouldn’t have the hint of Jaskier’s musk that he found to truly be the reason for its calming effect. He needed Jaskier by his side while he slept. Hell, more than when he slept. He wanted Jaskier by him always.

He took the bottle of scented oil when Jaskier held it out to him. He gripped it tightly as he stared at it. After a moment he shoved it not too kindly in his bag and mumbled a thanks to Jaskier.

Jaskier smiled, “Anytime… I’m feeling a bit better. Shall we continue on?”

Geralt agreed and walked beside Jaskier as they continued down the path. Jaskier insisted he no longer needed Geralt to carry him. Geralt wished he did. It was nice having Jaskier so close to him.

Jaskier was unusually quiet as he walked beside Geralt. He glanced over at him and tried to determine the reason for his silence.

“Are you mad?” Geralt almost whispered.

Jaskier raised his head at the sudden question, “What? Mad? Why would I be mad?”

Geralt shrugged his shoulders. He wrung his hands nervously, “Because I tried to take your chemise…”

Jaskier laughed and waved him off, “Oh no, not at all. It was a perfectly innocent action. I just… I got lost in my foolish thoughts.”

Geralt frowned, “Foolish thoughts? What do you mean?”

Jaskiers cheeks reddened. He forced a laugh as he waved his hands nervously, “Oh, nothing. Just a ridiculous thought I had when I saw you had my shirt. I half wondered if you took it because you wanted something to remember me by while we were separated.” The words fell quickly out of Jaskier’s mouth. He waved his hand again as if to sweep the notion away. “Like I said. A silly thought.”

Geralt clenches his fists, and a small feeling of hope grew in his chest. “Would it… would it be so silly if that was why I took it?”

Jaskier stopped walking. He turned toward Geralt. “...what?”

Geralt stood next to him. He clenched his jaw as he worked up the courage to repeat what he said. “If I… if I took your shirt because I wanted something to help me remember you by… to have your scent with me to remind me of your smile and the like… would that be so silly?”

Geralt’s heart tried to force its way out of his chest as he stared at Jaskier, waiting for his response.

Jaskier’s eyes were wide, his mouth hanging open as he stared in shock at Geralt. When he caught up to Geralt’s words his mouth snapped shut. He quickly shook his head, “No… not silly. Not at all… but… but why? If you… if you don’t mind me asking…?” His voice sounded a bit hopeful.

Geralt took the tremor in Jaskier’s voice to mean he might feel the same as him. He reached out and took Jaskier’s hand in his. “I… ever since you sang that lullaby… I realized I felt the same as that couple… about you…” He squeezed Jaskier’s hand hopefully, “I don’t want to leave your side. Ever again.”

Tears welled up in Jaskier’s eyes. He rushed forward, wrapping his arms around Geralt’s neck. “Me too!” Jaskier pressed his face in the crook of his neck as he continued to cry, “I never want to leave you either.”

Geralt laughed in joy as he held Jaskier close to him. He spun him around, his feet lifting off the ground, “I love you Jaskier.”

Jaskier smiled as he pulled away to look at Geralt, “I love you--” His hand flew to his mouth. He stumbled away before vomiting again. “Fuck… Geralt…”

Geralt sighed, a small smile on his lips, “Let’s make camp. We can discuss where we want to go from here while you get some rest.”

Jaskier groaned, nodding his head, “Good idea.”

Jaskier smiled as Geralt softly pushed his hair away from his forehead. He found the warmth of his hand soothing against his skin. Jaskier’s eyes were bright as he gazed up at Geralt, “I love you.”

Geralt smiled back, planting a kiss on Jaskier’s forehead, “I love you too.”

Jaskier surged forward, launching his body at Geralt for a hug. Geralt laughed as Jaskier nearly knocked them both to the ground. The sweet smell of Jaskier surrounded him, and he knew he would never get tired of that scent for as long as he lived.

FIN

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt #jaskier #prompt fill #panerato writing #pining prompt

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redqueen-hypothesis · 3 years

Text

misunderstanding ➳ gavin (mlqc)

➳ PAIRING: reader x gavin (mlqc)

➳ WORD COUNT: 6332

➳ GENRE: humour, fluff

➳ SYNOPSIS: you just really want a kiss

➳ REMARKS: for @cheri-translates‘ late birthday present! i apologise for the disappointing quality-

i. her

It’s late at night when you finish working on your last report, and Gavin insists on walking you home.

“–and so Victor was saying that I have to work doubly hard this month if I want to keep the partnerships with other companies.” You rant to Gavin on the way back to your apartment, joined hands swinging back and forth between the two of you. “I mean, he’s probably right! But he talks as if I haven’t been doing my best already! I wish I could wipe that annoying frown off his face.”

Your boyfriend shakes his head, a slight smile on his lips and his fingers giving yours a reassuring squeeze. “You’ve been working so hard these last few days, I’m sure your boss sees that too.” Gavin says honestly, and you make a face at the thought of Victor even remotely praising you for your work without a snark remark thrown in somewhere. “I’m sure you’ll do great, so don’t worry too much, alright?”

Gavin’s words are earnest and straight from the heart. You smile, feeling more positive than when you had left the company building; no matter how many times Gavin says he doesn’t know how to reassure people, he always come through for you with his honest words. You’re looking up at his side profile, about to thank him, when a night gale sweeps through the empty streets and you shiver. The weather has been cold recently, but you had forgotten your jacket today on way to work due to oversleeping in the morning.

All of a sudden, you feel a slight weight settling around your shoulders and look up in surprise to see Gavin putting his denim jacket on you, leaving him in nothing more than a plain white tee. “Ahh, Gavin! You don’t need to, I’m almost home anyway. What if you catch a cold?” You begin to pull off the jacket, but Gavin’s large hands still yours before you can return it to him.

“I’m used to the cold since I fly around so much.” Gavin tells you simply, adjusting the jacket so that it sits nicely on your shoulders, protecting the bare skin of your arms from the cool night air. “There, all done.”

You flush lightly, tugging the well worn material more tightly around your body. It still retains his delicious body heat and his unique scent is steeped in every thread and stitch of the fabric. Smiling secretly to yourself, you look at Gavin’s concerned face to thank him. “Then I’ll return it to you the second we reach my apartment, alright?”

Gavin coughs lightly, turning away. “I don’t mind if you keep it. It looks good on you.” His short brown locks do little to hide just how the tips of his ears are burning red. You blink down at yourself, realizing then just how big his jacket is on you and flush lightly. “Well, I can’t have you catching a cold too!”

You grab his hand with both of yours and raise it to your lips to blow warm air over it, deciding that you can at least keep one part of him warm if you’re going to steal his jacket. To your surprise, however, Gavin’s body temperature already seems higher than average. He could have a bright future as a personal body warmer if the evol agent thing doesn’t work out, you think to yourself as you lace your fingers with his.

A small laugh leaves Gavin’s lips and he brings your hands down instead, putting your joined hands inside the pocket of the denim jacket. “Is this better?”

You can feel heat dancing along your cheeks, and nod eagerly. “Y-yes!” Your hand has never felt so warm and secure. Gavin smiles at you, a small, tender curve of the lips, but it makes his entire face shine with a contented glow. “Let’s go, then.”

Just like every time Gavin walks you home, the distance between your workplace and your apartment feels far too short - you want to spend more time with him. Unfortunately, you spot the familiar numbers of your apartment block and let out a small sigh, fingers instinctively wrapping around his more tightly. You don’t want to let him go.

“What’s wrong? Your footsteps have slowed.” Gavin asks in concern, and you startle when you realise that he’s looking at you with a worried expression on his face. You hadn’t even realised that you’d been dragging your feet in an attempt to make this walk last longer. Just how much more in love can you fall for one man?

“I-I was just thinking about how much work I have left to do once I head back home.” You say quickly, as the two of you near the lobby of your apartment. Gavin sighs and raises a hand to stroke through your hair gently, fingers combing through the flyaway strands tenderly.

“I don’t like seeing you so stressed.” He says softly, sounding almost pained, and your heart warms in your chest. You take both of his hands in yours, holding them between you as you turn to face him.

Silly man. He’s the one who goes on dangerous missions all the time and comes back injured or exhausted, and here he is worrying about you instead. Gavin looks down at you, amber eyes slightly downcast and a slight furrow between his brows, as if the thought of you being tired hurts him more than any danger he could face.

“I’m a big girl, Gavin. I can take care of myself.” You reassure him softly. Gavin gazes at you for a few moments, before one hand comes up to trace the dark circles underneath your eyes so gently. “I know you can.” He says, sounding a hint resigned. “But not at the expense of your health or your rest, alright?”

His hand shifts to cup your cheek, and you lean into the warmth of his palm with a contented smile. “Okay.”

The two of you stand there for a moment longer, too reluctant to let the other go. It’s only when another gust of cold wind sweeps around you and you let out a small sneeze that Gavin finally takes a step back, running a thumb over your cheek. “I’ll pick you up for a date once you finish your project, alright? Don’t hesitate to call if you need me for something.”

You stare at him a second longer, his amber eyes filled with such tender affection and concern, before compulsion wins out and you’re stepping forward to wrap your arms around his torso. Gavin makes a surprised sound at your actions when your face collides with his chest, arms instinctively coming up to encircle you. “Something wrong?”

“Just wanted to a hug.” You mumble into the thin white fabric of his shirt, glancing up to look at him. Gavin’s expression softens at your muffled words, fingers stroking your cheek gently and his eyes tracing your face with so intently that your breath lodges itself in your chest.

Ever so slowly, his fingers slip down to brush your lips gently, his touch so light it’s barely a breath of wind whispering over your mouth. Lips suddenly dry at his sudden actions, your tongue darts out mindlessly to wet them and the tip flicks over Gavin’s fingers.

Your eyes dart up to meet Gavin’s in shock, heart pounding painfully in your chest. He still hasn’t moved his fingers from your lips, although you can see the bob of his adam’s apple as he swallows, amber eyes darkening a shade as they fixate on your mouth, unable to look away.

You vaguely wonder if you’re still breathing. Is he finally going to-

Gavin leans forward slowly, face coming dangerously close to yours without so much as a warning. You can feel a few stray strands of his hair dancing across your face each time the wind blows, but you’re so fixated on his mouth that you barely bother with the ticklish sensation. His breath, hot with each slow exhale, brushes your lips like a teasing, indirect touch, and at that moment, you find that you really, really want him to kiss you.

Your eyes slip shut, lips tingling in anticipation. Please.

“You have a little bit of lipstick smudged here.” Gavin’s soft voice interrupts you, and your eyes fly open to see him wiping carefully at the corner of your mouth, before showing you a bit of pink staining his fingertips. You stare down at it for a moment, unsure whether you want to scream loudly in disappointment or if you still have some shreds of dignity left to preserve, but before you can do anything regrettable Gavin leans over and presses a quick, chaste kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll see you soon.” He murmurs softly, eyes bright with affection as he smiles down at you, and you almost feel dirty minded for wanting a kiss on the lips of all things. “It’s late and cold, you should get going.”

Unable to say anything in response, you swallow the words trapped on the tip of your tongue before you kiss him softly on the cheek and step back to wave. “See you soon, Gavin.”

You feel his eyes on you until you’ve stepped into the relative warmth and security of the lift lobby, barely remembering to give a wave to the security guard before you enter the lift.

The second the elevator doors slide closed, you put your face in your hands and scream.

ii. a male perspective

“So, how good is my brother in bed?”

Shaw’s unexpected question in the middle of your conversation sends your mouthful of matcha latte going down the wrong passage. You immediately clap both hands over your mouth, trying to prevent the drink from spewing over the entire tabletop. Coughing and spluttering weakly, you reach out for help and Shaw instantly drops a tissue into your hand, a lazy, self satisfied smirk dancing on his lips. As he lounges back on his chair, he looks ridiculously out of place in the quaint cafe with his graffiti-ed leather jacket and skateboard propped up on the chair next to him.

“You don’t just ask about these kind of things!” You whisper to Shaw fiercely, sure that your face must be as bright red as a tomato. You can feel heat burning at your cheeks. Did anyone hear? “Why would you even ask about something like that?”

Shaw’s snicker of laughter is bright, teasing, and so, so annoying. “It’d almost be nice to have some tea about my dear brother. Anyways, what’s embarrassing about it? I could give you a few tips if you want.” He pours a measure of his can of coke into the teacup in front of him, before adding an equal amount of Pepsi and clicking his tongue in satisfaction.

You make a face at the thought of just how much action you’ve gotten as you dab at the corners of your mouth with the paper napkin. “Well...” You hesitate, not quite sure how to put it. Shaw arches a single perfectly groomed eyebrow as he raises his teacup to his lips.

“You mean, you haven’t fucked?” The question falls so easily from his mouth that you almost do a double take, before you’re glaring at him in embarrassment and raising your purse to smack him on the arm. “How far have the two of you gone?”

“...it’d be easier to ask how far we haven’t gone.” Your hesitant mumble has Shaw blinking at you in wide eyed surprise. The rare expression on his face would almost hilarious if it weren’t for the fact that it was so depressing. “He hasn’t even kissed me yet.”

“What?” Shaw says so loudly that a few patrons of the cafe you’re at glance at him with dirty looks. You slap his shoulder again with your purse. “Oi, how long have the two of you been dating already?”

You press your lips together, ticking the dates off on your fingers. “About a month now.”

“He’s gone an entire month without kissing you?” Shaw snorts, setting his teacup back on the table. You stare into his cup, watching the tiny bubbles fizz in his drink and pop at the surface. Who buys soft drinks in a cafe? “Are you sure he knows that the two of you are dating? He’s a bit dense, so he might not have gotten it through his thick skull-”

You give him a flat look. “Don’t insult my boyfriend like that,” you mumble, taking a bite of your strawberry tart. Shaw lets out a snort, resting his chin on his palm as he shakes his head at you.

“Am I wrong, though? The two of you are more hilarious to watch than a romance sitcom.”

You narrow your eyes at him, pointing your fork at him threateningly. “This is not,” you jab the utensil at his face for extra effect, “funny.”

This, of course, only has the opposite effect and sends Shaw into a fit of snickers and chortles. You glare at him, unamused, as he thumps a fist on his skateboard, laughing so hard you can see tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “Shaw! I’m being serious!”

“That’s exactly why-” Shaw wipes his eyes, looking like he’s trying very hard to stop himself from dissolving into laughter, “-it’s so damn funny.”

“I will end you.” You mutter, stabbing the fork into your tart mutinously and wishing it was Shaw’s face instead. Massaging his aching sides, Shaw slides back into his chair bonelessly, the odd chuckle or two still escaping him. “Okay, okay, being serious. Do you want my dear old brother to give you a real kiss?”

The question is so obvious that you shoot him a glare, wondering if he’s making fun of you again. “Of course I do! Every time I think he’s going to kiss me, it just ends up on the forehead or cheek. This area,” you gesture furiously at your lips with your fork, “has gone completely deprived for months! And every single time he doesn’t go for it, I think oh, maybe I should try taking the lead instead, but then he smiles at me with that really cute innocent face of his and I just can’t do it.”

Shaw blinks at you for a moment before he pats you on the back sympathetically. He must have been a little surprised by your emotional ramble. “There there, it’s not good for you to get so worked up over something like this. You’re aging, you should look out for your blood pressure levels-”

You gape at him for a few seconds, before you reach for your purse and immediately start swatting at him furiously like he’s a mosquito that you need to destroy. “I am not old! I’m barely a few years! Older than you! The disrespect, you bastard!”

“Ouch, yeowch! Stop abusing me, woman!” Shaw scrambles out of the chair from under your flailing hands, trying to avoid your hits. You’re not usually so easily agitated, but Shaw just has that effect on you - you want to smack that annoying smirk off his face the second he opens his mouth. “I’ll be serious from now on. Strategies, strategies...”

You sink back into your chair, cheeks flushed slightly from the exertion. “I shouldn’t have said anything.” You bemoan, putting your face in your hands. “You’re of no help at all, Shaw.”

He has the gall to look offended. “Do you have any idea who you’re talking to? If I can get ladies, I’m sure I can help you get one man, even if he’s a little slow on the uptake.”

“I said, stop insulting my boyfriend.” You scold, taking a more careful sip of your latte now, wary in case Shaw decides to say something strange again. “And your ideas are terrible, if they don’t involve something illegal...” your words trail off, and you frown as you think back on all his schemes and plans. “Wow. I just realised that all your plans so far have been illegal.”

“Who cares if they’re illegal or not as long as they work? I have a hundred percent success rate. Guaranteed fucking by the end of the plan.”

You fix him with a dubious look.

“I won’t even charge you for it. Take it as a congratulatory gift or something.” Shaw props his feet on the table, ignoring the dirty glare you throw at him from the side. “So, do you want to hear this plan or not?”

You take one good, long stare at him, before you sigh and down the remainder of your latte. What else do you have to lose?

“Hit me with your worst, I suppose.” You say, defeated, and Shaw grins, pumping a fist in the air.

“Leave it all to me.”

You feel like you already regret saying that.

iii. numero uno

Plan Numero Uno is an absolute disaster.

You’d been at the location of one of your shoots, which happened to be the precinct for your latest police feature documentary, organizing the lighting and curtains for the interview room. After realizing that you would need some cleaning solution in order to wipe down the glass of the interrogation rooms, you decided to find some yourself in the storage room, not wanting to trouble the janitors. Gavin, who’d been at the station, offered to help you out.

“You’re really a lifesaver, Gavin.” You tell your boyfriend softly, as he walks in step beside you. He’s not touching you, maintaining just enough distance between the two of you to remain professional and appropriate, but you notice the way he instinctively leans towards you in some sort of subconscious attempt to stay closer to you. You giggle internally, giving an absentminded nod to a janitor walking past you, lavender hair peeking out from beneath the brim of a dark cap. He’s cute.

“You needed help and I know where the supplies are.” Gavin nods simply as if offering his assistance is nothing more than second nature to him, guiding you to a black, nondescript door labelled ‘cleaning supplies’. “Here, it shouldn’t be locked.”

He opens the door for you, and you switch on the lights as you step into the small, cramped room barely large enough for one person. A single bulb flickers overhead, and you squint in the dim light to read the peeling labels on the bottles. “Detergent... Hydro... Hydrogen peroxide? Ahh, glass cleaner.” You reach on your tiptoes to get it, but unfortunately are still too short to so much as brush the bottom with your fingers. Gavin smiles slightly at your plight, and you shoot a pitiful look at him that says ‘please don’t make fun of me’.

“Let me get that for you.” Gavin suggests, stepping over to the rickety shelves. His firm chest presses against your back as he reaches over your head to get the bottle of cleaning solution, and you freeze, chewing on your bottom lip as you feel him move about behind you. You hope the light isn’t bright enough for him to see the clear blush on your cheeks. His body is very warm.

And also very hard.

“I got it, I can carry it for you.” Gavin says, seemingly oblivious to your plight. You force a smile on your face as you thank him, desperate to get out of here as fast as possible before you pin him to the wall and kiss him senseless yourself. “That’s great! Then let’s get out of here, it’s far too cramped-”

Just as you’re reaching for the door, you hear a click of a lock.

You pause with your hand on the doorknob, before attempting to twist it. The door doesn’t budge in the least. What.

“Gavin, I think the door is jammed.” You say, shaking the doorknob a little more aggressively. There’s no denying it, it’s well and truly locked. It doesn’t budge in the least even when you pull and push with all your might. “Did you do something to it when you came in?”

“I didn’t even shut the door.” Gavin replies, surprise colouring his voice. “Let me see.”

The room was very clearly meant for only one person, because when Gavin squeezes past you to get to the door, you’re sure every inch of his body is brushing against yours. You try your very best not to let out any strange sounds, instead choosing to keep your mouth shut and watch as Gavin inspects the door carefully.

“This door is locked from the outside by the janitor at the end of each day, even though it usually isn’t at this time.” Gavin says seriously, inspecting the lock. “One of them might have made a mistake when they saw the door left open and locked it thoughtlessly.”

Locked in a cleaning supply closet together with Gavin... why does that sound so familiar, you wonder, before the words click in your mind together with a familiar smirk and bleached lavender hair hidden beneath a dark cap.

Shaw! You scream internally in realization. Just a week ago at that cafe he had been talking about the exact same thing, but it had clearly been such an awful plan that you hadn’t bothered shooting it down instantly, thinking that he was just making a joke.

Well, it seems that he has made a joke - only out of you.

Before you can think up a thousand and one ways to kill Shaw in his sleep, Gavin turns around and you instantly purge all murderous intent from your face, directing an awkward smile at him. In the cramped space of the room, the two of you are pressed so close that you can feel the body heat radiating off him. His face is barely inches from yours, and almost helplessly, your eyes flick down to trace the outline of his lips. You can’t help it - everything you’ve wanted for so long is right there, as if you could just reach out and take it-

Gavin calls your name softly, and you look up to see him gazing intently at you. Your breath hitches in your throat, and your lips tingle. Is he going to...

“Stand back.” He says firmly, and you blink in confusion. “I’ll take care of this.”

The next second, Gavin raises up one leg, and lashes out at the door with a single swift, powerful kick. Your yelp of surprise is drowned out by the sound of the door swinging wide open, allowing light from the hallway to flood into the dingy storage room. His show of controlled power has your mouth hanging open in a mixture of shock and wide eyed awe.

The door is open, and you’re more disappointed than you have been in weeks.

Gavin turns around to extend a hand to you, the other hand gripping the bottle of glass cleaner tightly. “Shall we go? They must still be waiting for us.”

With a pained smile at your dear boyfriend’s obliviousness, you take his hand, lips still very much kiss deprived and heart just a little bit heavy.

Plan one, bust.

iv. little black dress

“Shaw, this idea is somehow worse than the first.”

“What do you mean, worse? The last one was an anomaly, this time will definitely work.” Shaw clicks his tongue as he rifles through another rack with a cursory eye. You trail along behind him, trying to cover your face with your purse, cheeks flaming red. “Shaw... Shaw! What exactly are we doing in... in a...”

The words lingerie boutique simply refuse to leave your mouth, your face colouring in mortified crimson until you’re sure it matches the shade of lace underwear barely clinging on to the mannequin’s hips. “I thought you said you were going to help me!”

Shaw lets out an ungraceful snort. “Well, you don’t think I’m here to buy one of these for myself, were you?” He holds up a racy black leather bodysuit up to you, giving you a cursory once over. “Hmm, might fit. Doesn’t seem like your type, though. You’re not bold enough to pull it off.”

“What?” You hiss through clenched teeth, trying to hide behind a rack when the shop assistant glances over at the two of you curiously. “No! I said I want a kiss from Gavin, not all of this,” you gesture wildly at the entire shop, “this risque stuff!”

“Think about it, if the two of you bang, we increase the chances of him kissing you. Truly a big brain moment.” Shaw says very seriously, in the same tone of voice he uses when he’s rehearsing his archaeology project presentations. You stare at him for a moment in horror, wondering for a moment whether he’s being serious or not, before you catch one corner of his mouth quirking up in the telltale signs of a shit eating grin.

“You little bastard-” You begin, swatting at him with your handbag furiously. Shaw simply laughs outright, ducking out of the way of your swings. “What kind of woman do you think I am? I thought you were seriously trying to help me here-”

“I was just joking,” Shaw manages through his laughter as he dodges yet another swing, too quick on his feet for you to actually hit him. “But being totally honest here, I still think he’d like to see you in one of these.” He holds up a sheer white babydoll and you instantly make a face, but inside you’re a little hesitant, a little curious.

Would Gavin really like... seeing you in something like this?

“Of course, we could always put you in a gift box and deliver you to his apartment.” Shaw hums, inspecting the lacy material a little more carefully. He seems far too familiar with it than you’re comfortable with. “Hmm, maybe something like this is a little too much fabric. Ease of access is priority, you know?”

“Too much fabric?” You squeak, glancing at the lingerie set. It’s more holes than lace, with very convenient slits in the fabric that would do little to cover, well, anything. You’d rather die than be seen dead in it. “What’s enough fabric, then?”

“Enough fabric means no fabric. Convenience is key.” Turning around, Shaw slips the lingerie back onto the rack, completely ignoring your flaming cheeks and the way your mouth is hanging wide open. “Oh, I just had the best idea. We pack you in a nice gift box to my dear old brother’s apartment, and you wear nothing but a bow. Pretty sure he’ll appreciate the view. I’m his brother, after all. We’ve got similar tastes.”

All you manage to let out in response is a mortified, choked noise. The sheer thought of Gavin seeing you like that has your head spinning, heart running at a million miles per hour. “I-I... I-”

“Cat got your tongue?” Shaw snickers at the expression on your face, and you simply let out another strangled sound. “I was just joking about the bow bit. We could always put it on the box instead.”

You gape at him, unable to think straight. “No.”

“You can be naked if you want to,” Shaw continues loudly, over your protests. The shop assistants are starting to stare, and you desperately wish the ground would swallow you in all your entirety. “In fact, wearing nothing would be the best, and you get to save money too- oh, fuck.”

You blink in surprise at the sudden shift in his attitude, before you turn to glance in the same direction that Shaw’s looking in. To your absolute horror, you see Gavin walking through the mall with both hands tucked in the pockets of his windbreaker, eyes focused straight ahead of him. He’s not looking at you, but the sight of him is enough for your heart to go from running a million miles per hour to absolute motionless in a matter of seconds.

For a second, you swear your eyes almost meet.

Just kill me now.

“Goddamn, Shaw, hide!” You whisper scream in desperation, shoving at him with a strength you never knew you had. Caught off guard, he stumbles over a rack of lacy underwear and falls face first into a changing room before you’re diving in after him as quick as your body will allow. You don’t chance a look back before you’re throwing the curtains shut.

“Ow, fuck, you’re stepping on my foot.” Shaw complains from the floor, and you barely spare him a glance, easing the curtain open a crack so that you can peer out of the changing room. “Shaw, if Gavin ever finds out about this, I will end you in your sleep.”

“That’s not really scary coming from you.” Shaw whistles, looking unconcerned. You turn your head back to give him the worst glare you can muster. “I’ll break into your house with the spare key and replace your shampoo with toilet bleach.”

“Fuck, okay, I’ll shut up.” Shaw raises both hands in surrender. He manages approximately five seconds of silence before he’s speaking again. “I’m sure brother dearest wouldn’t mind seeing you in a lingerie shop, though. In fact, he’d probably get pretty excited-”

You squat on the ground next to Shaw, put your hands in your face and let out a tiny cry of despair.

Next to you, Shaw only snickers.

v. the misunderstanding

When you leave work that evening, you see Gavin waiting for you outside your apartment, much to your surprise. He’s still dressed in his uniform, white button up and black slacks paired with fingerless gloves. At the sight of him, your heart flutters in your chest traitorously; you had once mentioned casually to Gavin that you very much enjoyed the sight of him dressed in any sort of uniform, and he’d taken full advantage of your weakness.

You wonder if today is one such situation.

“Gavin, you’re here!” You call excitedly and hurry over to him, before he can so much as turn around your hands are already on his chest, eyes narrowed. “Now, what sort of injury did you get this time? Don’t even try hiding it from me, just because you’re in a uniform doesn’t mean that I’ll let you off-”

Your wrist is suddenly grasped in a firm but gentle grip, and you look up in surprise to see Gavin gazing at you with a sort of melancholy smile. Slightly concerned, you reach up with your other hand to cup his cheek lightly and he leans into your touch, his amber eyes fluttering shut. “Gavin?” You ask, suddenly hesitant. “Is something wrong?”

At your words, Gavin draws backwards and straightens up, before smiling down at you as if nothing is wrong. “I’m alright.” He says, but he sounds a little... off. “There have been reports of a suspicious figure in a black cap loitering around here recently. Come, I’ll walk you home.”

Peering up at him, you want to ask him what’s wrong. While Gavin has never been the type to wear his emotions freely on his sleeve, he’s also never explicitly tried to hide them from you, nor has he ever been very good at doing so. However, he doesn’t seem to be in the mood for talking, so after a minute or so of mindless chatter from you, you fall into a contemplative silence, wondering just what on earth has made your boyfriend mope like this.

As the two of you near your apartment block, you decide that you are unable to stand this awkward silence between you and Gavin. You can’t possibly stand letting him go tonight without figuring out what the problem is. Mentally pumping yourself up, you force your feet to a halt, and turn around to look at Gavin in the eye.

“Gavin, I-”

“I have something that-”

Both of you speak at the exact same time, and you blink at him in surprise. Gavin looks equally perplexed, but opens his mouth to speak again.

“You go first-”

“No, you first!” You insist, suddenly very nervous with his attention all on you. Better later than never, right? Gavin swallows, his eyes darting over your face for a moment, before he suddenly grabs both of your hands and squeezes them tightly in his.

“Am I...” His voice trembles ever so slightly, and you look up at him in alarm. “Am I... not enough for you?”

You stare.

You’re not sure if you heard that right. Gavin? Him? Not enough? For who? You?

Too stunned to reply, you simply gape at him, mouth hanging open uselessly like that of a goldfish on land. Clearly taking your silence to mean something else completely, he starts to ramble in a way you’ve never heard him before, gaze downcast as he speaks.

“Today... I saw you and my... brother... in a...” He struggles to get the words out, cheeks dusted a dark pink and you immediately cover his mouth with both your palms, completely mortified. You’re not sure your ears (or your dignity) can take hearing Gavin say the words ‘lingerie boutique’.

So he had seen you in that shop with Shaw after all!

You’re not sure if you want to laugh or scream. Perhaps both. Both is good.

“I... I didn’t know what to think, so I tried to ignore it. I know you probably have your own reasons, and I trust you, but I just couldn’t get it out of my mind. So I... here I am.” He finishes, looking completely embarrassed with himself. “I just... I just couldn’t bear the thought of someone else taking you from me. Because I...” His voice grows tiny, but his words echo so loud in your heart. “Because I love you very much.”

Unable to stand how hotly your cheeks are burning, you dart forward to wrap your arms around Gavin’s waist, burying your face in his chest. His voice is a warm timbre above you and you feel his breath on the top of your head, soothing and familiar. “What’s the matter?”

“Today!” You shout into his chest, too embarrassed to look him in the eye. “I was with Shaw, because he said that he had an idea for me!”

Gavin’s hand comes up to rest in your hair, his long fingers combing through the strands carefully. “Idea?”

“Yes, an idea!” You can feel your face ready to spontaneously combust, and hope that he can’t feel the heat on your cheeks through the thin fabric of his shirt. “An idea to... to get you to kiss me.”

Gavin’s fingers still in your hair. “Why didn’t you just ask me?”

You pull back to stare at Gavin in the face, stunned. “That’s all it would have taken? All I had to do, was ask?” You repeat after him, incredulous, but apparently Gavin is totally serious, because he nods earnestly in response. “I was waiting for you to be ready because I didn’t want to rush you.” He explains, and you bury your face in your hands, ready to be dive headfirst into the concrete of the sidewalk.

“All that effort, for nothing!” You shout at the bushes lining the road, and Gavin stares at you as if you’ve grown a second head. “I just wanted a kiss, and you tell me now that all I needed to do was to ask? Damn Shaw’s advice to hell! I agonized over this for weeks, I still haven’t gotten my kiss, and now I find out-”

Before you can carry on with your embarrassed and angry tirade, Gavin’s rough hands are cupping the sides of your face. You barely have time to so much as breathe before his lips touch yours gently, the merest brush of his mouth sending your pulse stuttering dangerously in seconds.

Gavin slowly pulls away and you see that his cheeks are stained red. His eyes are fixed very firmly on the spot just behind your shoulder. “Was that... enough of a first kiss for you?”

Your own cheeks flame and you nod, too embarrassed to say anything else, your lips still burning hot. “Come on... let’s go.” You tug at his sleeve. “You haven’t had dinner, right? I’ll cook something for the both of us.”

Gavin beams at you warmly and you try to stop your heart from leaping out of your chest.

When the two of you step into your apartment lobby, the security guard uncle waves you over, much to your surprise. “There’s a package for you.” He informs, passing you a nondescript box wrapped in black paper. “The sender wanted to remain anonymous but said he was a friend of yours. It’s a congratulatory gift, apparently.”

You frown down at the box in your hands, shaking it gently; the sound is muffled, and it doesn’t sound like there are any hard objects inside. Before you can tear the paper off it, however, Gavin covers your hands with his, shaking his head.

“It could be something dangerous.” Gavin says seriously, eyes narrowed as he stares down the package in your hands. “Let me open it.”

You hand the package over to Gavin, and watch him open the package methodically with practiced hands, heart beating in your chest rapidly as the contents are revealed only to finally... stop dead.

Inside the box is a familiar scrap of white lace tied with a big red bow, a clean white card resting on the fabric.

Congratulations on finally face fucking! Now go bang your man! - Lightning Boi

Gavin doesn’t move for a moment, deathly still as he stares at the gift in his arms. Outside, you think you hear the wind howling. One sentence leaves his mouth. “I’ll kill him.”

You’re not going to stop him.

On the sidewalk outside, beneath a lamp post, the wind lifts the cap off a man dressed in black to reveal shocking purple hair and a cheeky grin.

“Hundred percent success rate.” He hums to himself, pleased.

#mlqc #mlqc fanfic #mlqc gavin #gavin bai #mr love gavin #gavin x reader #mr love queen's choice #ahaha... im sorry for the quality... please dont kill me TT

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extremelyblackandwhite · 3 years

Text

innocence - 24

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: none

A/N: i took three weeks to post, i am very sorry but i’ll now be posting the holiday chapters i was supposed to but i got lost in eating mince pies. hope you enjoy xx

NEXT CHAPTER

- Bucky, what are you doing? - Y/N smirked as she returned from set, still dressed in a scandalous dress covered by a beige rain coat. Small droplets of water covered the beige waterproof fabric which rolled onto the ground as she made her way further into the small flat.

Bucky was sat in bed, looking at a pile of clothing thrown next to an open old military green rucksack by his feet. A few worn out brown leathered tags we attached to one of the handles and had she been wearing her glasses, she could’ve probably guessed what it was written on them. The brown haired man rose his head at the mention of his name, eyes widening at what she was wearing. He was used to seeing her in tight, revealing dresses but this dress was something else and he wondered how she could walk with such a skin tight garment.

- I’m just deciding what to pack. - he shrugged, trying to forget about the dress his girlfriend was wearing.

- Just pack warm. - she sat next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder, an immediate smile extending in her limps. - Mum said it might snow. Can you imagine, a white Christmas?

- Did they give you a bad time on set?

A bad time? A bad time was an understatement. She had gotten an earful from everyone who passed by her that day from her manager to her personal assistant to even Mr. Hayworth who just screamed about how stupid she was. Even half the cast was upset, not enjoying the publicity it would bring to the movie and while she would normally end up crying in her trailer, Chuck ensured to follow her around to make sure she was alright. Yet, none of it matter. It was the last day of shooting before she got to go home to her parents and forget about the mess she had willingly created. It was only a day before she could spend the holidays with someone who chose her and kept choosing her for the first time. It really didn’t matter if she had a bad time, things were starting to look up for her.

- Other than the stripper dress? Not as bad. - she giggled. Bucky looked at her, trying to peak through the coat. - I was thinking ... maybe we should have a nice long bath together? I’ll light some candles, get some nice wine from the shop down the street.

- You little vixen, I still have to go see my sister. If I take a bath with you I will end up staying much more time than I should. - Bucky kissed the side of her face. - Did you wear that dress just to tempt me?

- I would never. It is not my fault you cannot control yourself.

- That dress is staying until I come back, though.

- I want to come. - she got up from the bed, pulling the dress from her body and grabbing her white jumper and pair of jeans from the wardrobe. - You’re meeting my family, it’s only fair I meet yours.

- I’ve told you already, princess. We don’t wanna poke the media, they’ll bite us back with no mercy. I don’t want people hurting you because of me.

- You can’t sneak me into a care home? My, my, Mr. Barnes, I thought you could get anyone into anywhere. Your CV said so.

- Are you doubting my abilities, princess? - he grabbed her by the waist, pulling her closing to him before starting to tickle her sides. - It’ll be boring to you, my princess. Just stay here, put back that tight little dress and I’ll make it worth your time.

- No way. I’m meeting your sister.

- No baby pictures, Y/N.

- I would never. - she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a hard felt yet soft kiss. - Only childhood stories.

Bucky rolled his eyes, handing her the jacket and hat as they made their way onto a taxi. Bucky visited his sister a lot but he’d never mentioned Y/N. Not that he didn’t want to, of course he did. In all honesty, he could speak about his girl for as long as someone allowed him. However, Y/N was still a public personality and he wouldn’t want to let something out that she wasn’t comfortable with people knowing. Besides, he knew how much his sister still adored to gossip and he wouldn’t want to possibly hurt Y/N or be the cause.

She, on the other hand, was excited. She knew Steve and Steve was the oldest of Bucky’s friends but she never thought she would get to meet someone from his family or that he’d even want to introduce her to someone from his family. After all, he was a war hero and Y/N was an actress from a small town in London who everyone seemed to despise at the moment.

The man drove them up to small complex building of what seemed to be newly built flats. Bucky was the first one off the taxi, running up to her side so he could open the door. It always left her feeling like a school girl; the pageantry, it is. She never believed she would find someone and the fact someone rushed to go and open the door for her and held his hand out.

- Anything you’d like to confess before I ask your sister? - Y/N teased, hugging him side eyes as he led her to the entrance.

- Do not believe what she says, I did not date too many girls.

- Steve disagrees with that.

- How would you know what Steve agrees or disagrees with?

- I called him to wish him happy holidays.

- I didn’t know you and Steve were friendly.

- Don’t be jealous, love. I’m not stealing your best friend. - Y/N pinched his cheek playfully as the two of them stopped in front of a wooden door with the number 35 in gold numbers pinned to it.

Bucky knocked on the door, announcing himself before holding Y/N once again close to him. He went through his mind, wondering if there was anything Rebecca could tell which would upset her. Sure, he used to be a bit of a womaniser in his youth but Y/N knew that. He hadn’t gotten anyone pregnant, he hadn’t proposed and ran off, he was off the hook. Still, he didn’t like the idea of Becca telling Y/N about his past quests.

Y/N waited patiently until someone held the door. The first thing she noticed were her eyes, the same as Bucky’s and she could recognise them anywhere. The woman had perfectly styled grey hair and a smile on her lips as she recognised her brother.

- Who is this lovely girl, Buck? You didn’t tell me you’d bring company, I would’ve gotten some biscuits.

- This is Y/N, she’s my girlfriend.

- Steve told me you were seeing someone, I just didn’t think she’d be this pretty. Come in, come in. - Becca grabbed Y/N away from Bucky leading her to the living room. - What you wanted is in the bedroom, Buck.

- Behave. - Bucky told his sister before he went into the bedroom to look for what he had come in from.

- I have some photos I think you’d love to see, darlin’. - she pointed the couch for Y/N to sit in before waddling to the big mahogany bookcase. She had a huge collection of books from old classics to new contemporary masterpieces which Y/N would love to read someday. The house itself was cozy, way more comfortable than other care homes she’d seen but she guessed Bucky would’ve only allowed for the best for his little sister. - It’s been ages since I’ve seen one of Bucky’s girlfriends. Not that he used to bring them home, but I used to sneak in and take a peak. You’re definitely the prettiest of all of them.

- Thank you. - Y/N couldn’t help but feel her cheeks heat up.

- Ah, there it is. - she dropped a photo album on Y/N’s lap. - My father gave my mother a photo camera and she went crazy with it. Too many photos. However, when Bucky was born, it was a special occasion. Dad used to say she wanted a professional photo taken with her Jamie.

She pointed at a photo of an woman probably in her early 20s holding a baby wrapped in several blankets, accompanied by a man who Bucky resembled very much. Her fingers traced the face of the baby, a little smile forming on her lips. It was nice to see him like that, normal. No mentions of the Winter Soldier, no pain, none of her constant drama due to her profession.

- He was the eldest of four and despite what my mother would say, he was always the favourite. The only boy. He got away with whatever he wanted.

- Bucky has three siblings?

- Three sisters. Some of them didn’t survive. It was war. - her voice softened with sadness as she turned the page for a photo that Y/N wasn’t expecting to see. The same woman from before, his mother, was hugging a shirtless Bucky who had some boxing gloves on. Her face contorted into curiosity as Bucky exited the room and leaned against the couch, standing next to the two women.

- What are you two ladies looking at? - Bucky kissed Y/N’s head, putting his hand on her shoulder.

- I think Y/N is very curious about your welterweight boxing past.

- You did boxing?

- Princess, I was a three-time YMCA Welterweight boxing champion. - Bucky closed the album before any of the photos of him with some of the ladies he used to hang around with showed up. - Becca, we should get going. We have an early flight tomorrow.

- You need to bring her more often. - Rebecca got up from the couch to accompany them to the door. - Did you find what you were looking for?

- Yes, Beccs. Thank you so much for keeping it all these years.

- Pretty sure mum would come back to haunt me if I hadn’t. Have fun meeting the parents. - she kissed Bucky’s cheek allowing for the two of them to leave. Bucky immediately wrapped his chunky knitted scarf, something his grandma had knitted for him ages ago, around Y/N’s neck, pulling her to his side.

He couldn’t truly remember a time where he was this happy, so full of need to continue living. She really brought him to this sort of weird normality where his past didn’t seem to affect him or at least not as strongly as it usually did. The two walked into grey skies, it was probably going to rain but none of them cared, walking side by side like those couples on Christmas songs.

- A boxing champion?

- Knock it off, princess. - Bucky helped her into the taxi, telling the driver his address before fastening his seat belt. - It was a long time ago.

- Do you miss her? - she questioned, leaning her head against his shoulder, watching the horizons run through in blurs. - Your mother. Rebecca said you were the favourite.

- Rebecca is always saying that. - he scoffed. - I do miss her. She was a swell lady, always caring about us, not complaining whenever she had to travel around because of my father. She was the best mother someone could’ve asked for. She would’ve liked you.

- You think so?

- I know so. Dad would’ve liked you too so would aunt Ida. Of course there’s still my nephews and nieces and their kids, but they don’t really want to speak with me ... - she didn’t need to ask why, she could see it in his eyes why and it made her sad. It made her sad to think of his family not wanting to be with him, specially during the holidays. - But I’ve had Rebecca and Steve for all these years. They’re my family and now I have you.

- Well, I can’t promise my family will like you but they’ll definitely found the fact I have a boyfriend amusing.

- You mean to tell me I don’t have any ex boyfriends I’ll have to fight once we get to London?

- That’s just unfair, Bucky. You’re a three-time boxing champion.

- You’ll never let that one go will you?

- Nope. Dating a three-time boxing champion is a new identity I can get used to.

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watermelonlipstick · 3 years

Text

Dreams, Chapter 7

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

Title: Dreams, Chapter 7

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 4184

Summary: Life moves toward normalcy for Sam and the reader, regardless of emotional turmoil.

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, s l o w b u r n

A few days later the Kaisers came into the bar for a nightcap and asked you and Sam to come to their house for dinner. You couldn’t think of a reason not to, and honestly thought maybe it would be nice to have something to structure the week around. It had been quiet, just barely beneath solemn while the dust settled and Sam stayed mostly silent while you moved around each other throughout the day. At least at the Kaisers’ Sam would have to talk to you, maybe even sidle up close to you during waking hours to keep up the couples’ charade. A little zap of guilt moved through you as you politely agreed to a time, that the second thought you’d had was about getting closer to Sam under this guise. In any case, the Kaisers were kind, it wouldn’t hurt to have a nice meal with someone else, and if you were going to stay here, it would be a good idea to avoid appearing standoffish. You bought their last drink and were waving after them when Sam came upstairs from changing a keg.

“We’re going to the Kaisers’ for dinner tomorrow,” you offered, trying to keep your voice even and making a point of not staring at Sam too long. It was a challenge; since Sam had kissed you and even more since he’d divulged that longing was part of the tangle of emotions he was feeling, it was on your mind nearly constantly, adding a murky stripe to the ever-present grief.

“Oh, uh, okay.” Sam jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans like he didn’t know what to do with them. “What time?”

“They said 7:30. Don’t let me forget; I think we should bring a bottle of wine or something, so I can grab one tomorrow.”

“Yeah, that works.”

You wanted to drag out the conversation but couldn’t think of any way to that wasn’t cloying or desperate. If this (hopefully temporary) emotional distance was what Sam needed, it was unfair for you to try to take it from him. A quick nod and you returned to washing glasses.

The rest of the shift passed agonizingly slowly. Sam put on a podcast about Jonestown for the drive home.

You’d decided to walk over to the Kaisers’ with Sam the next day, bundled up on top of a presentable sweater that you hadn’t worn in a few years. Biting wind sliced through your jeans and seemed to creep into your coat even as you dug your chin inside the collar like a turtle, and when Sam noticed he threw an arm around you. His side blocked a bit of the wind and he rubbed your shoulder to warm it with friction. The impulse to curl up into his ribs was fierce, but you fought it down to wrap your forearms around the bottle of red wine that looked the fanciest of the midrange bottles at the grocery store. Where seconds before you had been wishing the walk were shorter, now you could’ve stayed out in the ice forever if it meant Sam would allow himself to be close to you again without being asleep. You’d made peace with the want, trying hard to decide that feeling crazy on top of your grief wasn’t helping anyone.

“Ready?” Sam asked with a tentative smile at the doorway. The Kaisers lived in a version of your cabin, in the sense that many of the houses in the area were log-hewn and rustic. However, they were clearly here to stay. Window flowerbeds filled with pinecones for the season and delicately carved shutters framed warm casts of light streaming onto the snow through gauzy ivory curtains, and their door opened to a tiny front porch where yours simply had a small ungraceful cement platform. For a moment, you thought about how comforting it would be to come back here at the end of a shift. It didn’t feel like somewhere as darling as this could have a half-broken boiler that rattled all day or plastic-coated countertops. This was a home and not a hideout.

You gave Sam what you hoped was a reassuring grin and watched as his long finger pressed an old-fashioned doorbell encased in wrought iron.

Mike answered the door. He had on a fuzzy pullover that made him look even more like a teddy bear than he normally did, nubbly wool spanning his belly like fur. He had the kind of rosy full-cheeked smile some jolly men combined with their booming voices to seem like the Ghost of Christmas Present, and a well-groomed beard with two starkly delineated streaks of gray-white dropping straight down from the corners of his mouth. From previous neighborly hugs, you knew he smelled like piney aftershave. He was a little taller than average, and built former-linebacker solid. You would’ve bet anything he was the perfect dad to call to help move you into a college apartment or scare an ex-boyfriend, and the thought of it made you cheerful and sad all at once. The hand not holding the doorknob had a pint of dark beer. “Great, you’re here! Babs, they’re here,” he added over his shoulder, gesturing an arm to welcome you into the home.

Sam waited for you to go first, shuffling his feet along the doormat in tandem with you as Mike closed the door. You followed Mike’s socked initiative and gently toed your boots off while you handed him the bottle of wine somewhat shyly. For all the years you’d been on your own, there was something so decidedly adult about bringing wine over to the dinner party of a middle-aged couple that felt like those first few meetings of your parents’ friends after college, when you’re not sure whether to call them by their first names or resign yourself to a life of Mr This and Mrs That. Mike seemed to pick up on it, thoughtfully appraising the bottle and squeezing your shoulder, humming about how you didn’t have to bring anything. He clapped Sam on the back and asked him how he was doing before teasing gently about how long his hair had gotten, and you took in the house.

It was bigger than the cabin you were staying in, the staircase to your left suggesting an upstairs that yours didn’t have, but what was far more striking was how warm it felt both in mood and literal temperature. A fire crackled straight through the main room in front of you, surrounded by giant river rock stonework that offset caramelly beige walls. A deep, plush canvas sofa faced the fireplace, flanked by two equally overstuffed armchairs upholstered with burnt sienna stained leather. Quick visual survey gave you a count of 4 throws in the room of various weights and patterns.

The kitchen was over to the right through the dining room. Barbie was wearing an apron covered in piglets and appeared to be basting something in the oven, turning toward you and absentmindedly wiping her hands. Fluffy, soft-looking hair was held back from her face with a pair of no-nonsense tortoiseshell barrettes. “Oh, perfect! I thought I hadn’t left enough time for the roast, but it looks about done. Can I get you two a drink?”

Sam’s soft, encouraging smile was enough to make you feel a little weak in the knees. “Sure! It smells great in here.”

“How about an old fashioned? We’ve been working through a great bottle of bourbon.”

“Works for me,” Sam agreed, and you nodded as well.

A few moments of small talk later, Sam offered to help Barbie with the food. She graciously accepted, giving him some job you knew she could’ve easily done herself as a way to make him feel more comfortable. Mike noticed you looking at the variety of pictures on the wall and started talking about their kids, putting names to each cheerful face. They were a good-looking family, the Kaisers, all big beaming smiles and limbs protectively wrapped around each other over the course of different seasons and major events. You’d had to let go of this idea years ago, long before Dean was gone, but it still made you ache in a nondescript way to see a family so happy and so each others’, not only in the way they loved but also in the way they so obviously belonged. Mike and Barbie were good people, and they deserved this. You tried to focus on the affection in Mike’s face as he talked, asking a few clarifying questions as he went. A few moments later, Sam came up behind you.

“Barbie says we should go sit down.” There was a pinkness to his cheeks and you couldn’t tell if it was the warmth of the kitchen or residual windburn from your walk over.

The table was one of those single-plank, live-edged ones you’d always coveted and knew were far more expensive than they looked. It fit the elevated rustic feel of the Kaisers’ house and the delicious, rib-sticking meal you were eating off of it. As you fawned over the roast and Barbie did the requisite Midwestern dance of ‘oh it’s nothing I’ll give you the recipe’ it was easy to fantasize about belonging somewhere like this, having parents like this, pictures of your cousins and nieces and nephews lining the walls of your childhood home. Indulgent, clearly, even more so than the rich food and smooth liquor, but you couldn’t bring yourself to feel guilty about it.

“So, have you two always worked in the bar industry? That always seemed so fun to me—but I’m too old to do anything like that now,” Barbie asked.

“Oh, come on, you’d be a great bartender,” Sam insisted, always coming down on the exact right spot between flattering and politely flirtatious. “But uh, no. This is the first bar I’ve worked in for more than a few weeks, actually.”

Mike raised his eyebrows in an indication to continue but Sam artfully avoided his gaze. You couldn’t tell what the cue was—how honest was Sam planning on being? An old classic, the technically-true, seemed like the best option. “I worked as a bartender through and a little bit after college.”

“Silly me, I guess I had always thought that’s how you two had met; you seem like such a good team there! How did you meet, then?”

You artfully popped an entire fingerling potato in your mouth to force Sam to take over. “Uh, our, ah, families were friends.” In the sense that Bobby had been like an uncle to you both, maybe. A complete non-answer that sort of encompassed the barebones of the situation if you squinted at it right, but neither Mike nor Barbie seemed to recognize the opacity of it.

“That’s great. I bet your parents were excited then, seeing you get together,” Mike suggested before taking a sip of bourbon. Both you and Sam smiled affirmatively—not together, many of those parents long dead before we had even met—and hoped the moment would pass. “How long has it been, then? Since you got together?”

That one you couldn’t even guess what the right pretend answer would be and prepared to joke ‘too long’ before Sam said, “About two years. We knew each other for a long time before that, though.” It made sense, as far as answers went. ‘About two years’ since Dean was gone, since your lives changed, but it still ripped through you like an electric shock and sent you reeling. You could have spent an hour looking at that statement from every angle but snapped out of it when Barbie gave you a basket of rolls to pass to Mike.

“So that explains why she doesn’t have a ring,” Mike winked, playfully knocking Sam’s arm with his fork still in his hand. “Two years isn’t that long.”

Two years is a lifetime. Sam blushed and looked down at his plate. “Be nice. Kids don’t get married at 20 like they used to,” Barbie teased from across the table, smirking at her husband with so much love behind her eyes. You couldn’t help but wonder if you would’ve looked at Dean like that across some dining room table if things had been different and your mind flashed on the kitchen counter a few nights before, silently clinking rocks glasses together over pie and wanting to hold Sam until the world got more fair.

The plates were cleared and an amazing, sticky bread pudding was brought out. Mike and Barbie coaxed each other into telling stories that made you genuinely belly laugh until finally you couldn’t suppress a tiny yawn and the final drink was poured with a joke about how it wasn’t like you were driving home, so what was the harm? You all moved to the living room in front of the fire, sitting next to Sam on the couch when Mike and Barbie took what must’ve been their normal spots in each armchair. Old cushions folded up around you comfortingly and rolled you slightly into Sam’s weight next to you, lining up the firm stretch of his thigh along yours. Warmth from the fire and Sam, the pleasant sounds of your hosts’ voices and Sam’s answers to them rumbling through you as vibrations when he spoke were so sweet and heavy under the bourbon, and your eyelids began to droop.

Sam’s hand gently covered your knee. “Ready to go?” he asked, low with a private smirk.

You made a conscious effort to sit up straight. “I’m so sorry, I can barely keep my eyes open! Where are my manners?”

Mike laughed a big belly laugh from his armchair. “Babs, we’re outlasting the bartenders!”

Everyone chuckled as you all got up from your chairs, Sam accepting a Tupperware of leftovers before the at-the-doorway conversation of people who didn’t want to go and hosts who didn’t want them to either. You’d been so nervous about the dinner and now you didn’t want to leave, honestly hadn’t really wanted to leave the sofa, just doze against Sam in the heat and company like a child. It had seemed before like maybe Mike and Barbie were just asking you for dinner because it was the thing to do, but they had been genuinely welcoming and you realized that these were the first non-hunter or hunting-related relationships you had made in literal years as you zipped your coat up all the way to the top and followed Sam outside into the quiet night.

“Man, they are really nice,” he remarked, walking closely enough next to you that your sleeves brushed together.

You could barely see his face when you looked up to him. “Yeah. We should have them over sometime.”

“Our place looks like a flop house.”

You giggled, the sound falling softly on the snow around you. “We can fix it up first.”

“No real point in fixing it up if we’re not staying here for a long time.”

“Maybe we could stay a while.”

Sam looked down at you, slowing to a stop even as the icy wind whipped around you. “You want to stay?”

“I mean, I—yeah, I think I do. Unless you think we should go somewhere else.”

“No, I just…I guess I hadn’t really considered it here, the whole “roots” thing.”

“It’s fucking freezing, can we talk at the cabin?”

Sam’s laugh rang out across the woodsy surroundings as he clapped an arm around you and shuffled you both home.

That night you tucked your cold toes between Sam’s flannel-clad legs and tried to imagine Dean as an old man.

If you’d thought December and January were bad, the intense cold snap of February sent you for a loop. Something about the months of darkness and frozen fingers was making you more stir crazy than normal; the idea of coming home to the cabin seeming less and less enticing as the days went on.

And then the boiler broke.

Well and truly broke, not just making the horrible clanging sounds it was prone to, but no heat at all. It had only been a couple weeks since going to dinner at the Kaisers’ and the experimental conversation with Sam about investing time into the cabin which had since fizzled out. A lack of heat at the border of the Upper Peninsula in winter was obviously untenable, and it forced the topic again as you grumpily helped carry in the remnants of another dead tree Sam had felled to heat the home with firewood.

“Is it worth fixing or is this a sign?” you huffed through the tiny clouds of steam coming out of your mouth. “How much would it cost?”

“I don’t have a ton of experience with boilers, but I’m pretty sure it’s the heat exchanger. And I have no idea how much it would cost to fix, but I can try to do it myself if the parts aren’t too much.” Pragmatic, genius Sam with the patience for machinery that you didn’t have. He snaked a long arm out from the bundle of wood he was carrying to open the door and hold it for you to scurry under his arm before closing it after both of you.

Generally, you thought a landlord would probably fix this kind of thing but it always felt a little scary asking him for anything, knowing you paid cash every month and the owner had never asked for a background check. It could have been fine, but every potential conflict seemed like it might be an opportunity to be unceremoniously evicted. Better to either leave before it could happen or solve the problem yourselves. You put a hand on Sam’s chest before he could go back for another bundle of wood. “Let’s talk about it for a second.”

Sam put his hands on his hips and it accentuated the broad span of his shoulders in his thick jacket. “Okay, right. What do you think?”

“Well, I mean, do you want to stay here? Or do you want to go somewhere else, or start moving again or something? We haven’t even really talked about it.”

He seemed to be weighing the options before biting his lip. “Here seems as good a place as any in a lot of ways, you know? Off the beaten path, probably not going to get spotted by anyone we know—knew—and the money is honest.”

You cut him off with a flippant wave of the hand. “Right, but I’m not talking strategically. Do you want to stay here? Do you like it here?”

A moment of silence fell as you searched his face for clues. “I—yeah, I do. I like being in the woods, I like the bar, I like people like the Kaisers and Steve and Jake. Maybe I’ll feel differently in the summer but right now I do.”

The grin cracked open your face slowly. “Good. I like it here too. Do you think the hardware store would have the stuff you need to fix it?”

“Definitely the first place I would check.”

After getting the rest of the wood inside and leaving it next to the small fire already burning to dry out, you started to follow Sam to the car before he turned around a step before the door. “Where are you going?” he asked as you almost bumped into him.

“Hardware store, I thought?”

“Nice try, we can’t both leave with a fire going.”

“Oh, I get it. So you get to go sit in the warm car and hang out in the warm hardware store while I turn into a popsicle over here.” You were half-joking, but it was genuinely freezing in the cabin, even with the fire going. Sam rolled his eyes over a smirk and strode around you, pushing the couch tight to the fireplace before retrieving the down comforter from the bed and throwing it on top. He grabbed a rinsed plastic bottle from the top of the recycling bin and filled it with water hot from the tap before throwing it in the microwave for a second.

“Unless you feel like learning a lot about boilers today, then yes.” He gingerly pulled the bottle out of the microwave and tightened the cap back on, deftly shifting it between hands before tossing it under the comforter on the sofa.

You were having a hard time holding onto your anger as you watched him make a cup of peppermint tea, still wearing his boots and coat as he moved around the tiny kitchen. Reluctantly, you shuffled over to the couch and removed only your boots and gloves before getting under the blankets, tucking your socked feet around the poor man’s hot water bottle and finally smiling only when Sam brought over the steaming mug of tea with more than a touch of affection under the exasperation coloring his face. “Fine?”

“Fine.”

When he came back, you were well into a worn paperback and had put two more logs on the fire already. “Do you need help?” you called over your shoulder from within the comforter cocoon.

“I think I’ve got it, thanks.” His words came into the room on a gust of cold air while he tapped snow off of his boots.

“Think you know what you’re doing?”

“Actually, yeah. The woman at the hardware store—you’d recognize her, Diane I think—knew a fair amount about it. I’m pretty sure I have it under control.” He brought a paper bag weighted with supplies over to the utility closet you knew held the boiler and got to work.

It was nice watching Sam in this element, always had been. As much as Dean had loved doing little projects and fixing things, both Winchesters were far handier than your average bear and Sam’s natural interest in learning lent itself well to tinkering with all kinds of things. Evidently boilers were not an exception. He shucked his coat off to lie flat on his back, looking up at something you couldn’t see with his hands gently resting on his ribcage before reaching to grab a wrench. The twisting motion raised his elbow and tugged his shirt a bit up his torso to reveal a few inches of Sam’s lower abdomen, the trail of hair tracing to his belt buckle in slightly sharper contrast to the taught skin around it given the consecutive months spent without sun. It made you blush and you quickly looked back to your book, grateful for the heat that the fireplace was bringing to your cheeks as cover.

About forty minutes later, Sam tapped your shoulder and startled you out of the goofy historical fiction of the paperback. “Wanna see if it works?”

He had a stripe of oil or something on his cheek but you resisted the impulse to swipe it off, instead nodding and extricating yourself from the heat of the blanket and couch around you. When you turned it on, the boiler clicked loudly twice in a way you thought might be a bad omen before going silent again. You let an extended beat pass and placed a palm on the side. It was already on the edge of being too hot to touch and you momentarily forgot that you and Sam had decidedly not been continuing your new normal level of comforting affection lately before throwing your arms up high around his neck excitedly. He chuckled into your ear and closed the embrace, forearms crossing your ribcage and hoisting you off the ground as he stood up in your hug. You could feel the fingers of one hand splayed out over your back and side through your jacket, the other still holding the wrench tightly.

“Okay, no promises it’s going to last, but I think that was it,” Sam offered as you released each other.

“Crank it! I want it to feel like the Caribbean in here.”

“You say that now, and in 3 hours you’re going to be whining about how hot you are,” Sam grinned, clearly feeling a little proud of himself even if he wouldn’t admit it. He tapped the wrench absentmindedly against his palm for a moment, considering whether he wanted to say something. “When I was at the hardware store she said our landlord might be open to cutting our rent if we offered to fix up the place.”

“Who’s we?” you teased, holding your frozen fingers close to the boiler like it was a campfire.

“I thought you might say that. But seriously, I know you don’t like the color of the walls or the shower pressure or whatever, could make it feel a little less…sterile.”

You tried not to remember that the last time you’d picked out paint was for a bright pink bedroom at age 12. Sam was right, it could be nice. Even more than that, it would be great to have some leftover cash around, and an extra project to kill a few hours of daylight wasn’t a bad idea.

“I kind of like the sound of that. I’ll talk to him about whether he’d be game.” Sam squeezed your shoulder before massaging your neck, admiring the boiler distractedly when you continued. “And seriously, thank you for fixing it.”

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 8

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uwua3 · 3 years

Text

something more. (home for the summer)

🍁📸 fushimi omi

summary: the mad wolf was nothing you expected, but everything you needed for the summer warnings: alcohol/drugs (mentions, no mc usage), angst, bruises, change, crying, death (mentions), graduations, kissing, motorcycles, omi's past, open ending, reunions, scars, separation, sneaking around author's note: bunnie is slowly realizing how old she's getting ;; but in all honesty, the summer of senior year is always a bittersweet feeling, knowing that everything is changing within two months or so. although it's a possibility bunnie may not write as much, or even anymore, once she enters college, she still has this time to do what she loves. i hope you may accept me for as long as you want before we eventually split. if you resonate with this feeling, please enjoy this one-shot! word count: 3,574 music: home for the summer - sara kays

WE STARTED GETTING CLOSE FRESHMEN YEAR, WHEN ALL OF OUR FRIENDS WERE SMOKING CIGARETTES AND WE COULDN’T STAND THAT SECONDHAND SMOKE SO WE’D LEAVE AND DRIVE AROUND UNTIL YOU HAD TO DROP ME OFF AT HOME They said that the big bad wolf of Sekichiku was nothing but bad news, but then why was he so warm in your arms? You couldn’t believe even when you opened your eyes. Fushimi Omi driving his motorcycle just a little slower this time, his leather jacket pressed against your cheek as the night waned. Everyone called him “Mad Wolf”, a title only fitting for the most ruthless of predators amongst the underground of your high school. Yet… how could be a wolf be so gentle? So kind? So lovely in every way?

It started with a party meant for anyone but you. You didn’t know why you decided this was the night to rebel, but it was a mistake. Instead of putting your head in the books and staying quiet in the front of the class, for once you decided to attend a gathering full of things you’ve only read about. Drinks and drugs were mixed in an unhealthy solution for failing tests, missing homework, and any other teenage problem associated with the academic system. When you found yourself outside for the chance of anything except breaking the law, the epitome of what you were avoiding showed up. Omi, in his scarred and bruised glory, quietly closed the door behind him after noticing your rigid state. When his loud boots thumped against the patio floorboards, you wondered what this looked like. A tall, strong wolf with a smile of sharp teeth and narrowed eyes staring down upon his next prey. But, when you turned to meet his amber eyes, you didn’t find a villain belonging to the fairytale of “Little Red Riding Hood”. Instead, Omi softly smiled with dull teeth and eyes that glowed underneath the golden street lamps. When he spoke, his voice healed you like a spoonful of honey, the words void of claws like you expected. “Are you okay? I noticed you’ve been outside for some time, is there anything I can do to help?” Before you shook your head, your gaze subconsciously fell upon the motorcycle chained to a fence, a helmet decorated in boyish stickers that referenced children T.V. shows made you falter. When Omi followed your line of sight, his expression gleamed with something of interest. “Ever driven on a motorcycle before?” This time, you shook your head, arms wrapped around you to keep warm before Omi offered his hand. “Let’s go then.” At your concerned expression at riding a motorcycle with one of the most infamous delinquents around, Omi exhaled through his nose, understanding your apprehension but disappointed nonetheless. It looked like he expected this sort of reaction, though it did nothing to comfort the “Mad Wolf”. “I promise, it’ll be okay. I’ll be extra careful, you have my word.” Omi had no reason to lie, not when his friends were just behind the walls doing everything that got a high schooler excited. You thought something would’ve deterred you from agreeing, like the secondhand smoke scent from Omi’s jacket or the manmade rips in his jeans. But, maybe there was something else that made you take his hand, like the worn leather bracelet you noticed Nachi also wore or the wallet of family photos peeking from his pocket. Either way, you took Omi’s hand, letting him lead you to his motorcycle. His hand was calloused and rough from the years of doing god knows what, his knuckles stained with remnants of a fight not too long ago. Yet, when he latched the spare helmet on your head, you noticed his hands smelt like flour and coffee. If you closed your eyes, it would’ve felt like a white knight leading you onto his horse despite it being the complete opposite. You sat behind Omi, unfamiliar with the position of such a vehicle. Omi checked in on you, looking over his shoulder as he searched for something in your face. Regret, embarrassment, shame, possibly. “I won’t go fast, don’t worry. But, you can still… um… hold on?” When Omi’s voice raised to a question at the end, you didn’t notice his stutter as you hid your face in his shoulder, hugging his waist. Omi’s abdomen tensed for a moment, before relaxing as he let out a deep breath. You would’ve given up anything to know what he was thinking in that moment. You didn’t have time to ask before Omi revved his engine, driving off down the pine-tree ridden road in your small town. True to his word, Omi didn’t drive like he normally did, with no regard for who saw him speeding past some rundown cop. But, Omi patiently cruised down the familiar roads, past the houses with blacked-out windows and everyone asleep. You should’ve felt scared, terrified even. But, you couldn’t. Not when the moon was bigger than ever, with a crown of stars gracing the night’s visage. Not when

this was the most daring thing you’ve ever done up until your junior year, not when the party was miles behind you, not when Omi was this caring of someone he’s never even officially met before. “Can we go a little faster?” After Omi got your confirmation you were serious, you lifted your head to watch the stars pass by in a blur. Yet, Omi’s golden gaze remained consistent, his sights drifting to your bright smile and exhilarating awe. Without realizing, your fists clenched the material of Omi’s jacket whenever a turn was made, your fingers passing over Omi’s stomach. He wondered if you could feel his heart leap whenever your breath ghosted over his already red ears. It was a hour of incoherent conversation and mumbles of nothings before you were outside of your home, your window still open from sneaking out a little while back. When Omi silently stopped, neither of you knew what to do. You didn’t want to let go, nor did you want to accept the best night of your life was suddenly over. Omi turned, both of you much closer than before. His eyes carried the aura of the stars, his smile as consistent as the moon. Fushimi Omi was made of whatever made the night worth staying up for. You never wanted to sleep again. “Can I see you again?” And again, and again, and again. Omi nodded, at a loss of words for some reason. When you gave back his helmet, your hands brushed and you nearly dropped it from the sheer feeling alone. Omi was too considerate to act like he noticed, so he bid you goodbye—I’ll pick you up tomorrow, okay?—as you disappeared inside. He didn’t leave until he saw you wave from your room, to which he waved back with a twinkle in his eye. When Omi drove away, both of you let out a breath, hands over your hearts at what could’ve been something more. Only time would tell what happened next. SWEAR THAT WAS YESTERDAY, BUT IN TWO WEEKS, I’LL BE MOVING SOUTH AND YOU’D BE MOVING TO A TOWN THAT I HAD NEVER HEARD OF I WISH WE HAD MORE TIME, WHY DID I EVER WANT TO GROW UP? It almost felt like yesterday that everything was so much more simple. When friends didn’t die, when the burden of college didn’t weigh you down, when change didn’t come in the form of extremities. At least one thing stayed the same: Omi and his starry eyes and his moonlit smile. Though, that’s dimmed ever since Nachi. Omi didn’t wear his leather jacket anymore, instead letting you keep it when the evenings got cold for the summertime. He must’ve washed it a thousand times over; you didn’t know if it was because of you or the memories attached to it. Either way, Omi was beginning to stop staring when you showed up in his jacket, the only thing left of his past he’s been trying to erase. A year had passed since the party, but it felt like nothing. It felt like all those nights of stargazing, constellation-finding, and moon-chasing became blurred together, a collage of being alive with someone you had just met. Now, Omi was more than a friend, he was your best friend, a soulmate, maybe something more. Omi’s loud steps remained the same, though he was more quiet this time on the roof. You two laid next to each other, hands getting closer and closer before someone pulled away last second. The summer days passed in a haze, nothing particularly exciting until the sunsets onward, where you two knew exactly what to do. Everything was quiet when it came to being with Omi past midnight, except the unsteady beats of your hearts when the possibility of something more shined. Despite that, it was quiet, something both of you longed for during the day. “Do you ever think about what the stars will look like at Yosei?” When you asked, Omi slightly frowned, as if he forgot he was moving to the heart of Veludo Way in just two weeks time. After careful consideration of your curiosity, Omi stretched his arms, resting his head upon them as he seemed to search for something. He always did that, Omi never thought anything was simple.

“No… they won’t look like they do now, I suppose. It won’t be the same.” Without you there by my side, both of you ignored the unsaid words that came with the statement. You nodded, knowing you felt the same way. Veludo Way was a distant world away, Yosei University was taking your Omi away. Light years away. “How have your brothers reacted to the news?” At that, the tension that was ebbing away at the conversation eroded, and Omi’s light came back as usual. Omi ran his free hand through his hair, smiling at some distant memory he wanted to share with you. “Not any good, that’s for sure. Kai & Gaku can’t imagine Pops waking them up since I always did. It’s gonna be a big adjustment for them to actually take responsibility of their own lives.” Although Omi rolled his eyes, he did so fondly whenever he thought about his two younger brothers. You knew he was immensely proud of the young men they’ve been growing into, it was a sense of pride that he had instilled inside him ever since you’ve met him. Ever since you saw those faded stickers still on his helmet, you knew who placed those. “Of course, a life without you isn’t worth imagining.” Shit. You meant to say it lightheartedly, but it came out heavier than expected. With that, a quietness settled between you two, both of you trying to find the right words for the occasion of leaving each other. “You’ll be fine without me, I know it.” But, I don’t like it like that, selfishly enough. I know you’ll be better than ever, but I wish… When a shooting star passed out of the corner of your eye, you pointed it out with the same junior-year awe as if this was your first life. Omi was glad to know the news was right; the meteor shower of the season was tonight, as if it was a last hurrah before both of you left this small town for good. “Make a wish!” I wish we had more time. Despite the wish pulling on his heart strings, Omi turned his head, your side profile greeting him with a smile. The stars were reflected in your eyes, and Omi wondered what a sunrise would look like. It was too late now. “Let’s see a sunrise together when summer comes around, okay?” You nodded, turning and seeing the moon. You didn’t make a wish, not when you had everything you wanted right in your sight. Omi took your hand again, and it was softer than last time he offered it. Omi brought your conjoined hands to his lips, murmuring something about a promise before pressing a kiss to your knuckles. You missed the final shooting star of the night, instead you saw it pass in Omi’s gentle eyes as he leaned in. “Thank you for the summer, my lucky shooting star.” You thought of a wish as Omi kissed you. I wish we were something more. YOU SAID YOU’LL SEE ME WHEN WE’RE HOME FOR THE SUMMER WE WON’T HAVE TO WORK SO WE’RE GONNA DO WHATEVER THE HELL WE WANNA ‘CAUSE WE KNOW THAT ONE DAY, WE’LL BE GONE FROM EACH OTHER Despite only being a year away, your hometown almost felt unfamiliar. New employees manned the typical shops you used to frequent, a new graduating class was celebrating, and overall, people were now older. But, Omi didn’t change. Not with his singular scar on his cheek, his eyes lighting up when he sees you, his warm touch when he hugs you. You heard his bag drop at his front door first before feeling his arms hug you, his words comforting as you two embrace after so, so long. “Welcome home.” You greeted him back, the words sticking to your skin like a sheen layer of sweat that always came with the incoming summer heat. Home… was it your traditional suburb with kids playing in the street and a generation of the same mailmen home? Or, was it something else? You felt Omi wrap his arm around your shoulders, his muscle as present as ever as he guided you to visit his family, the brothers happily welcoming you both into the Fushimi household. Home was Omi, that was all. You exhaled, bending down to ruffle Kai’s hair and praise Gaku for how big he’s gotten. After you politely greeted Omi’s father, to which he harrumphed and insisted you had to call him by his name at this point, you knew this

was home as well. Home for Omi, and due to the open hearts of the Fushimi boys, home for you, too.

You found yourself in Omi’s bedroom, something you weren’t familiar with. It was still clean, organized, and full of warm tones upon black walls, surely something attempting to cover his past delinquent days. As the door clicked close, Omi gently tugged you onto his bed beside him, bringing out his gaze reserved only for you. You didn’t hesitate to lean your head on his shoulder, feeling at ease. Omi took your hand, his grip careful but verging onto desperation. As if being away from you for so long had taken everything in him. You knew that wasn’t true by any means, but Omi’s shuddering breath and hand squeeze tried to say otherwise. When you cupped Omi’s face, he relaxed in your touch, leaning into your hands as he looked down on you; you could tell Omi was a bit embarrassed to let you see how emotional he was getting at the reunion. You didn’t expect a man who’s life was rough around the edges to have the most sincere of hearts, but Omi was always like this. Always gentle, always kind, always gentle in every way. “I missed you, too.” When you said those words, Omi moved forward as if making up for lost time, both of you falling upon the bed in a heap of giggles and whispers. It was everything but I love you because that would change everything, something neither of you needed during this time. Instead, a combination of I hope summer lasts forever and I could only think of you when it was a full moon that filled the room of someone you wish you had knew sooner. WE’LL HAVE LIVES IN TWO DIFFERENT SUBURBS WE’LL HAVE FAMILIES WITH DIFFERENT LOVERS BUT FOR NOW, I KNOW I’LL SEE YOU WHEN WE’RE HOME FOR THE SUMMER It was the first night you had spent in your own bedroom before a knock sounded on your window. When you sleepily opened your eyes, Omi’s figure was illuminated by the moon, his eyes still warm of starlight despite being shadowed. You hurried to unlatch the window to let him in, not bothering to question how he managed to sneak to your room so silently. Although busting into each other’s room wasn’t an impossibility, it was only on rare occasions that you two ever encroached on such intimate territory. Though, neither of you were in high school anymore. Perhaps, it was different now. “What time is it?” You mumbled, your helping hand lingering longer than one would expect of a friend. Omi didn’t mind, he never did, as he looked around for something. When Omi located his jacket still hung around your desk chair, he wrapped it around your shoulders as the chilly breeze entered through the open window. “Time to fulfill our senior year promise. Ready?” You didn’t think twice and followed Omi outside of the window, knowing at this point you’d trust him with your life. Omi knew your backyard like the back of his hand as he avoided setting any sprinklers or devices off, not needing your guidance. You watched his broad back attempt to fit through small spaces, it took everything in you not to laugh at how ridiculous all of this was. Sneaking around like there was still curfew in place, as if both of you weren’t legally adults. By now, Omi had reserved his spare helmet only for you, meaning it was second nature for him to close the clasp snugly. Although this time, his eyes melted at the sight of you, as if in disbelief you were standing in front of him after all of this time. Tiredly, you rested your head against Omi’s shoulder as he made sure you were situated in the back of his motorcycle, something he had left at home. Omi drove off, the speed just right so that it’d blow your hair back the way you liked it. Despite being on the vehicle a countless number of times, it still took your breath every time of how fortunate you were. You tightly hugged his waist, wondering if he could feel the butterflies against your ribcage. Before you could ask why both of you were up so early, Omi parked in the same spot as always when things became a bit much.

It was off closer towards the woods, where a picnic area besides the lake still had the same paint from a decade ago. The grass tickled your ankles as you hopped off, admiring the calm waters before a bird chirped. At that, Omi walked up beside you, his footsteps always loud in your presence. A softer hand gently held onto your chin, forcing you to look up. You noticed the water reflecting the sky first as hues of orange and blue dominated your vision. It was the first sunrise you’ve been awake for, and you were sharing it with the man of the night himself. But, when you glanced at Omi, you realized he wasn’t just made of stars and moonlight. The sunrise emphasized the warmth of his eyes even more as a golden glow surrounded his happy smile. Omi was everything worth staying up for, everything from the sunrises to the sunsets and more. I love you, you wanted to say but didn’t. It would change everything, it would mean that the possibility of “something more” could become “nothing”. You couldn’t, neither could Omi. Perhaps… this was all it ever could be. YOU’VE BEEN BUSY, THAT’S OKAY I STILL CAN’T WAIT TO BE HOME FOR THE SUMMER When you had driven off back to your college, the first text from Omi was reminiscent of a simpler time, where kissing on rooftops was the most thrilling thing you’ve ever done. “I’ll see you next summer, okay?” It made you pull over and rest your forehead against the wheel, keeping your eyes closed as you felt like the sun was too bright. It was still too hot, the clouds were too big, the sky too blue. It was too much, too far away from Omi who was heading the other direction. You wished your head was resting against Omi’s shoulder as he drove a little more over the speed limit underneath the moon and stars. You wished the sun was beaming onto both of you after witnessing its earliest hours. You wished you were with Omi for every moment in between the best memories of your life. Summer was such a cruel concept, a promise that could be taken away at any time. I wish we had more time, you thought, knowing there was nothing else you could do. Omi put his phone in his pocket, knowing it was time to leave after seeing you off. Life was so uncertain, it’s as if both of you knew this was the last summer you two would share before even more things changed. But, despite only having three or so years, it didn’t feel like enough. If only he told you he loved you at that sunrise, if only he didn’t just kiss you without explaining what it meant, if only he could drive you around for just a day longer. If only… I wish we were something more, Omi thought, but it was for nothing. I love you, you typed but put your phone in your pocket. The possibility of something more became nothing.

#fushimi omi #omi fushimi #a3! act! addict! actors!#a3!#act! addict! actors!#a3! actor training game #a3! one shots #act! addict! actors! one shots #mankai a3!#mankai company #a3! x reader #a3 x reader #omi x reader #a3! omi #a3 omi

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coeurdastronaute · 3 years

Text

Christmas Day 35

Boss Lexa and Employee clarke secret santa continuation please!

Previously on Day 34

The shop was freezing despite the level of noise that would imply a steady amount of work being accomplished. The heat lamps helped in some ways, but they were sparse considering the outfit worked in an actual tinder box, so most bundled up tighter against the especially frigid winter that seemed to almost sneak up on them entirely. Throughout the workshop side of the operation, the dust was thickest by the workstation in the farthest corner. As the light streamed in through the giant windows, it seemed to get frozen in mid-air, tangling itself in the particles.

Hard at work, Lexa stood tall, bracing her shoulders as she moved the sandpaper along the edge of her newest project, careful to pause at times and inspect with her other, knowing hand, as if she were reading the notes of a song. Her leather apron was hung on her hips while the heavy sweater almost draped around the string, well worn and patched three times already in its short life in her closet of just a year. Lexa loved the tiny little stitches that fixed the hole near her collar, and the one on her elbow, and the larger one at the bottom hem. They were done with purpose and with care, by someone who was happy to do it, who frowned and furrowed while she concentrated on doing it, even though she didn’t know how.

Earplugs in, she was unaware of much else in the shop save for the screech of someone else’s saw or sander at another work station. She was blissed out, in her own world, focused on her work and happy for it.

Careful to make sure no power tools were in use, Clarke slipped through the workshop toward the back bench. She made sure to set the coffees in her hands down on the bench before approaching the girl still hard at work.

Slowly, she wrapped her arms strong shoulders, feeling the body within them jump slightly at the contact before relaxing into her hold. Clarke kissed between the collar of the sweater and Lexa’s ear, inhaling a bit of that wood and sweat smell that always lived on her neck. Cool to the touch though, the skin warmed as she held her lips there until she smiled and broke it, hugging tighter to the person who wore the same sweater at least twice a week.

“I brought you coffee.”

“I hope you don’t greet all of the workers like that,” Lexa announced, a little louder that she should have due to the ear plugs.

“I’m in love with you, you big idiot,” Clarke murmured after a final squeeze.

“What?”

Slowly they detangled themselves and Lexa pulled the plugs from her ears, letting them hang on her neck, bright against her sweater. Clarke didn’t answer, just tugged her apron slightly and kissed her fully, properly.

“I brought you coffee.”

“Thanks. I was nearly going to come get it myself.”

“God forbid you were to come see me in the office. You used to come all the time.”

“I had a crush on one of the office girls,” Lexa shrugged, carefully blowing on her cup. “Now, I get to see her whenever I want.”

“Speaking of. I came back to see if you were interested in getting drinks tonight with everyone, and then maybe go back to your place after?”

“What if… we skipped drinks and just went back to my place?”

“But it’s the night we draw names for Secret Santa.”

“Good luck to whoever gets you this year,” she snorted.

“Are you sure it’s not going to be you?”

“Posibite. I will not be partaking this year. I have my hands full actually getting you something because it’s my responsibility to do so as a girlfriend.”

“Sure hope no one tries to go over the limit this time.”

“Yeah, someone was reckless last year.”

The pair shared a smile before Lexa took a sip of her drink and regained some composure. She was very excited to be Clarke’s girlfriend, and she was very excited to spend the holidays with her. There wasn’t much else Lexa needed in her life.

“Drinks tonight then?”

“Mine after?”

“Definitely.”

XXXXXXXXXX

“Wow, they must think you’re very upstanding,” Clarke grinned as Lexa returned from shaking hands with a few of the other people at nearby tables.

Beaming and resplendent in the dress, Lexa sat the trophy down on the table beside her date and took her seat excitedly. The rest of the Christmas gala got back to the regularly scheduled programming, and at her table, Lexa earned a kiss on her cheek. It was so much nicer to have a date to this stuffy event. It didn’t hurt that she won an awkward from the chamber of commerce, in front of said date.

“Will you find a place to put it in the office? I don’t think it will survive at my workbench.”

“I know the perfect spot,” Clarke promised.

She ran her hand over Lexa’s neck and kissed her temple, she rubbed her bare back and leaned close, the two gazing at the new hardware for Favorite Artist. As much as she wasn’t one to admit it, Lexa enjoyed the award. She didn’t do her job to win anything, and she worked hard just to keep afloat. She was fortunate to do what she wanted to do, to do what she wa passionate about, to pay everyone she loved a good amount, to have her sister happy and to influence new artists.

“I can’t believe this,” Lexa sighed, still surprised and overwhelmed.

“That you’re well-liked and it is noticed by those around you?”

“Um yeah, kind of,” she nodded.

“People notice.”

“I wear ear plugs most of my day, I think I don’t notice much else.”

“Yeah, it took you forever to notice me.”

That was the only thing that snapped Lexa slightly out of her stupor. She looked up, as if waking and furrowed slightly before beginning quickly by shaking her head.

“I noticed you the moment you started. Hell, the moment you interviewed,” she informed the beautiful date beside her. “I nearly lost a thumb the first time you spoke to me. I noticed a long time ago.”

“So it just took you a long time to act.”

“I’m fairly slow to do anything.”

“Don’t I know it.”

Before she could say anything else, Lexa earned a quick kiss and she melted slightly, humming happily until it ended.

XXXXXXXXXX

There were gifts under the tree. There were glimmering gifts and bows and ribbons beneath a collection of ornaments, some handmade, some prototypes for the collection Lexa created for the shop. There was tinsel and garland and everything festive in all directions, and the pair sat in their coordinated pajamas.

“I do have another gift for you,” Lexa smiled, surrounded by the wrapping paper on all sides.

“What else could I possibly want?” Clarke grinned, digging through the boxes again and sniffing the perfume she’d received.

“This is just part of it.”

The red envelope was slightly wonky, a little heavy and lopsided, but tentatively Lexa handed it over, nervous about the contents.

“A key?”

“A key.”

“What does it open?” Clarke cocked her head as she held up the tiny key. It was older, bronze, a little heavy and entirely unfamiliar.

“If you get dressed I’ll show you.”

XXXXXXXXXX

Not a person remained in the workshop, of course, as the holiday kept everything closed for the entire week. But it hadn’t been completely empty, as Lexa had been in and out, working as hard s she could on her special project.

It was weird to see it so quiet. Clarke was accustomed to the hustle and bustle, to the buzz of saws and machines. She was used to always smelling saw dust and wood and lacquer.

“Do I have to wear this?”

“Of course,” Lexa explained as she directed her blindfolded girlfriend down the warehouse toward her work area. “It’s a surprise and I couldn’t wrap it.”

“You couldn’t, or you didn’t want to?”

“I’m not good at wrapping things, but this one was too hard so I didn’t even bother. Now stand right here.”

“Okay, but do I have to keep this on?”

“On the count of three.”

It was a quick count before the blindfold was slipped off. Clarke stood there and stared at the project while Lexa anxiously refused to look at her girlfriend’s face, and it was an excruciating six hundred years, or so she thought.

“You made me a… a desk?”

“The key… it opens like one drawer. I figured, uh, you know,” Lexa itched her neck and winced slightly. “I thought if you were going to need a space to work on your art, it’d be important to have your own desk. And it’s sturdy. I made--”

A kiss cut her explanation right off, and Lexa relaxed as Clarke tossed her arms around her neck.

“How long did it take to make this?”

“Um, not long.”

“It’s perfect.”

“I measured the space in your apartment, and it’ll fit.”

“So thoughtful that you randomly measure my apartment. I love that about you.”

“I’m not good at much except for making things.”

“You’re good at plenty.”

“Merry Christmas, love.”

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idreamofplaid · 4 years

Text

Comfort

Summary: It’s always hard when Dean leaves for a hunt, but the two of you do what you can to make it easier.

Characters: Dean x Reader; Sam

Word Count: 2342

A/N: This is a Reblog of one of my favorite fics.

Every time Dean left for a hunt it was hard. If there was enough advance notice, he’d spend extra time holding you close to him. He would take the time to kiss your fingertips and whisper to you about the future you would share together. That was his way of reassuring you he would make it home.

That’s the way it went when there was time. Often Sam or Dean would get an emergency call or a case would pop up that needed immediate attention. This was one of those occasions. You were making your way down the hall toward the kitchen dreamily tying the sash on your robe into a knot, memories of last night fresh in your mind. You closed your eyes remembering the delicious scratch of Dean’s unshaved beard against your skin. Reality abruptly intervened. You knew what was happening as soon as you heard the tone of Sam’s voice when he said “check this out”.

You walked into the kitchen, a little of your glow gone. Dean was looking at the laptop Sam had, no doubt, just pushed across the table to him. He took a sip of his coffee and angled the laptop back in Sam’s direction. “Definitely sounds like our kind of thing.” His eyes caught yours as you made your way across the room to the coffee pot. You took a white ceramic cup from the shelf and filled it with French Roast. Initially Dean had teased you about your “fancy” coffee, but he had stopped soon enough admitting he loved it.

If you didn’t live in a bunker, you might have looked out the window at this moment and caught sight of a bird flying past or the leaves on the trees outside blowing gently in the breeze. It might have taken your mind off the reality for a second that Dean was going to leave again. But you didn’t have that. What you had was a man whose role in life was to save people, and you were so proud of him for that it made you fall in love with him a little bit more every time he did it.

You didn’t hear Dean walk up behind you, only felt his arms circle around your waist. He bent over and pressed his cheek against yours. “Mornin’, Beautiful.” You reached up and behind you to lay your hand on the side of his face. He kissed your neck just under your ear and whispered, “Meet me in our room in ten minutes.”

While you waited for Dean, you got dressed in a simple white t-shirt and jeans. You were sitting on the edge of the bed brushing your hair when he opened the door and came into the room. He was holding the plaid shirt he’d been wearing this morning in his hand. It was the red, white, and gray one he’d worn the last time he took you out for a real date night. Dean put it down on the bed next to you and took the brush from your hand.

You turned a little to the side and felt the dip in the bed as he sat down behind you. Dean eased the brush through your hair, starting at your temple and pulling it over the crown of your head. After a few strokes with the brush, he combed his fingers through your soft waves. He always did this before a hunt. He said he liked the normal of it, and he could take the feel and smell of you with him.

It was part of your ritual with each other. The next part involved Dean taking his shirt, the last one he’d worn, from the bed. You turned back toward him, and he helped you slide your arms into it. He carefully rolled each sleeve up to your elbow before kissing you. When he ended the kiss, he spent a few seconds just looking into your eyes. His expression was soft. These would be his last moments of softness for however many days this hunt required of him.

Dean cupped your cheek in his hand. “I’m coming back.”

You put your hand over his. “I know.” He kissed you again before leaving the room to go find Sam and load up the Impala. Alone, you pulled Dean’s shirt close around you and hugged yourself. You never watched him go preferring to stay in the cozy confines of the room where you were the most intimate with him. It gave you strength and brought you comfort to face the first minutes without him there.

Over the next few days you pulled on that shirt at the times you missed Dean the most and the times you felt the closest to him in spite of him being far away. You wore it in the kitchen when you were washing dishes or chopping vegetables, keeping Dean with you while you carried on with your most ordinary tasks. You wore it when you curled up in one of the big leather chairs in the library with a novel. It was always fantasy or romance, something with a happy ending. You steered clear of the lore books when Dean was away unless he called needing some particular piece of information. You slept in it at night when you most needed to feel his arms around you. That shirt was your companion through the long days of waiting for him to call and say he was on his way home.

That call came late in the afternoon on the fifth day. The banshee who had taken up residence in Billings had been handled. Dean sounded tired, but there was also a noticeable lift in his voice. He told you he’d be home in the morning. That gave you time to prepare for his return. You always made everything as welcoming as possible for him. Every single homecoming was a big deal for you.

By the time Dean got home, there would be a freshly baked pie waiting for him. This time you were going with apple. You’d make sure his favorite Henley that he wore when he was hanging around the bunker was washed and ready. When Dean was on his way home, you were downright domestic. You were also practically humming with the anticipation of seeing him again, and that made you romantic.

You filled the bedroom with candles, and your collection was vast. Pillar candles, votives, tapers, and tea lights; you had them all. The scents ranged from nutmeg, cinnamon and vanilla to patchouli, sandalwood, and frankincense. There was something for every possible mood. You also changed the sheets on the bed, choosing them based on the color you would most like to see next to Dean’s naked body. Finally, you would pamper yourself with a bubble bath, put on nothing but his shirt, and wait for him.

The sheets you had chosen this time were navy, and there were at least twelve candles of various sizes scattered across the desk and the bedside table. When Dean sent you a text saying they were back in Lebanon, you lit the candles, pulled back the blanket and top sheet, then positioned yourself across the bed propped up on your elbow with a clear view of the door. As the candles burned filling the air with the smell of honey and bourbon, your mind drifted to thoughts of emerald green eyes and strong, protective arms.

It was a few minutes later when Dean turned the handle on your bedroom door and walked in to find the room washed in the warm glow of candlelight and you in his shirt waiting for him. It wasn’t a surprise because this is how he found you every time, only the details changed. You sat up in the middle of the bed, and he smiled.

Dean shed his over shirt and took off his shoes and socks before walking to you. He sat down and wrapped one arm around your waist pulling you close to him. With his other hand, he brushed his thumb across your cheek. “I missed you.”

His eyes were so gentle when he looked at you; it was almost impossible to believe he had been killing a monster less than twenty-four hours ago. “I missed you too.” This is when the tears came. You never cried when Dean left; it was when the relief of having him back overwhelmed you that you let go. He moved his thumb up to catch the tear that had slipped from the corner of your eye. You reached up for his hand and brought it to your lips, placing a light kiss there. “I love you, Dean.”

When Dean’s mouth covered yours, his lips were just firm enough to let you know how much he needed you, needed this reconnection as badly as you did. You opened your mouth to his kiss, moving your tongue around his. After he touched every spot inside your mouth, he pulled away and answered, “I love you too.”

Dean took the bottom of his t-shirt and peeled it off his body. You reached for his belt buckle and started to unfasten it while he lay you down with your head on the pillow and kissed you again. He dipped his tongue into your mouth while you pulled down the zipper on his jeans. You pushed at the denim trying to get the fabric to move down his hips. He tangled his fingers in your hair and deepened the kiss leaving you breathless.

You finally stopped trying to get his pants off and and pulled your mouth away long enough to say, “Dean, take them off. Please.” He sat back for the few seconds it took him to strip out of his jeans and boxer briefs then settled in over you again. He unbuttoned the front of his shirt and pushed it open. He caresses each of your breasts in turn, first with his fingers and then his mouth. He licked, kissed, and sucked whispering to you how perfect you were against your skin.

You rested your hands on each side of his head running your fingers through his hair. Your core ached with the need to be filled. When Dean started to kiss down the center of your stomach, you grabbed his shoulder. “I need you inside me. I’m ready.” He lifted himself back up and using one forearm for balance, he laced the fingers of his other hand through yours. He leaned down and kissed you again, squeezing your hand while he swirled his tongue around yours and pulled your bottom lip into his mouth. He was still kissing you when he slowly pushed his way inside.

Your body clenched around him immediately. Whimpers of desire and pleasure escaped your lips. Dean started to move with a slow and steady roll of his hips. “More. Please. Move faster.” As he began thrusting at a faster pace, he also started to moan and grunt every time he thrust so deep he hit your cervix. You arched up into him to meet his thrusts.

You lifted your knees up and squeezed Dean’s waist wanting to hold him there joined to you. “Y/N. You feel so good. So good.” His hips were angled just right so his pelvis was rubbing over your clit with each thrust. You tilted your head back to get a better look at his face. His eyes were closed, and his mouth was open. God, he was gorgeous like this. The sight of him caused that little coil in your belly to start to unwind.

Dean thrust into you deeper and opened his eyes to look at you. The expression on his face triggered your orgasm, and it started to ripple its way through you. You tightened your grip on Dean’s hand when your body started to shake. “That’s it, Sweetheart. Give everything to me.”

With one last whimpering moan, your body relaxed beneath him. You let go of his hand and reached for his face. “I want you, Dean. I want you.” He thrust deeply several times; then his hips began to move erratically. He squeezed his eyes shut tight and tossed his head back. His release shot into you in long, hot ropes. Dean’s body stilled, and you lay your hands flat on his back holding him against you.

The two of you stayed like that, neither moving or saying anything. Dean was still inside you when he started to kiss your neck softly. His breathing had slowed some, but you could still hear that little pant at the end of each breath. When he finally moved off you, he was careful to cradle you in his arms and roll you over with him. Your head was on his shoulder, his arms snug and safe around you.

You traced the muscles in his chest and stomach with your fingertip. “I could stay like this forever, Dean.”

He brought his hand up to hold your head. “Me too.” You placed a single kiss on his chest. The silence wrapped around you, and the world really was far away for right now. You could feel the calm in Dean’s body. He was relaxed. You brought him that. The thought made you smile.

It was understood that you wouldn’t talk about the hunt as long as you were in this bubble of peace. Later, Dean would want to talk about it, would want to tell you what had happened. It hadn’t been easy to get behind those walls he’d put up around himself, but you had. You were there, and he wanted you there. The most bad ass hunter in the world had made himself vulnerable to you. You snuggled closer to him. He nuzzled his nose into you hair. His breathing had slowed and evened out taking him closer to the calm serenity of sleep. You’d spend the day here with him just like this. Dean deserved that. He deserved to be in the arms of a woman who loved him.

Everything Forever: @gambitwinchester @princessmisery666 @onethirstyunicorn @peridottea91 @logical-princey @emilyshurley @beenlovingromansincedayoneish @fangirlxwritesx67 @waywardbaby @atc74 @ledzeppelinsbonzo @shaniquacynthia @mariekoukie6661 @tumbler-tidbits @67-chevy-baby @fandom-princess-forevermore @terrarium-jpeg @emoryhemsworth @crashdevlin @heycasbutt @jules-1999 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @cosicas-cuquis @sammyimpala-67 @queenoftheunderdark @dean-winchesters-bacon @mrs-meghan-winchester @timelordy-fangirl2 @sweetness47 @hobby27 @awesomesusiebstuff @kickingitwithkirk @gh0stgurl @becs-bunker @sandlee44 @supernaturalgrandma @lonewolf471 @sea040561 @dawnie1988 @maddiepants @volleyballer519 @outcastedangel @iknowwheremytowelis @kdfrqqg @lizette50 @daisymoder72 @sorenmarie87 @oldfreakything

Dean/Jensen Love: @deansyahtzee @flamencodiva @deanwinchesterswitch @waywardrose13 @feelmyroarrrr @winchesterxfamilybusiness @focusonspn @akshi8278 @ladywinchester1967 @sgarrett49 @wingedcatninja @coffee-obsessed-writer @adoptdontshoppets @team-free-will-you-idjits-67 @ellewritesfix05

#dean fluff #dean smut #dean x reader #reader insert #dean oneshot #dean in love

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misc-headcanons · 4 years

Note

Hi ! Glad to see you're open. May I request a sweet NSFW scenario of Katakuri and a female S/O( who is smaller, but not normal sized)? Thank you, and good luck with the rest of your requests !!

Katakuri/F!Reader: Appreciation

(NS.FW below!)

When Katakuri had been told by his mother that his bride-to-be was taller than the average human, he’d felt a small sense of relief--well, as much relief as you can feel when you’re being put into an arranged marriage. He had always wondered how he would be able to give Big Mom the grandchildren she desired with any wife that wasn’t a full-blown Giant or a member of the Long Neck or Long Art tribes, but he had been wary when he was told that his fiancee was a human.

After he had met his current wife though, any wariness or worry had seemingly disappeared. ____was certainly tall for a human, but she was still a few feet shorter than him. In order to enjoy their wedding kiss, she had only needed to stand on the tip of her toes for his lips to reach hers. He had been worried about frightening her with his true appearance, but once again she had managed to surprise him once again when he’d found the courage to take off his scarf in front of her for the first time; she looked up at his fangs with awe and her only real question wasn’t how he’d gotten his scars or why he was the only one of his brothers to have fangs...Instead, she’d simply asked in an inquisitive tone whether or not he tended to accidentally bite his tongue whenever he ate. Kata had been taken so off-guard that he was actually speechless for a moment before answering that no, he had plenty of years of experience using his teeth and rarely ever bit his tongue.

Her reaction had left an odd feeling in his chest, and it was one that would reappear whenever he saw her face or heard her speak. It left him feeling very...light. As if he was one of the fluffy pink clouds on Candy Island, where just one glimpse of her would leave him feeling like he was floating above the ground. He wasn’t used to someone being so genuinely kind towards him, except for Brulee. Still, ____ stirred different feelings within him...the kind that he was used to either suppressing because he had more important things to attend do, or that he'd hastily get rid of with his hand when he knew he wouldn't be interrupted. He'd only ever had her in his bed, and he still blushed whenever he thought of their wedding night.

They had only had sex a few times after that, since Katakuri's schedule as a Sweet Commander left little time to enjoy time to himself--and his wife--outside of his Meriendas. He soon realized that he was a glutton for things sweeter and more indulgent than donuts, and ____ was always eager to join him during his afternoon retreats; the guards around Flour Island were used to seeing Katakuri carrying his bride in his arms to his mochi shrine, with her giggling excitedly and leaving a few kisses along his arms and chest while he nuzzled her neck in return. It was strange to see Commander Katakuri, a man so stoic and steely, being so affectionate with his wife as if they were a pair of lovestruck teenagers. But to ____, this was what Kata was really like; he may be intimidating to the rest of the world, with a face as terrifying as his power, but around her he was as soft and sweet as a teddy bear--and as delicious as the donuts that left his lips with a sugary aftertaste whenever she kissed him.

When he entered the cozy home he shared with ____, his stress from a full day of work melted away the moment he saw her sitting on a chair in the living room, enjoying a book. She glanced up and saw Kata, and she immediately marked her page before hopping off of her set to greet her husband in a hug; when he responded by lifting her off of the floor to return her affection, she let out a small laugh as her feet dangled in the air. “Welcome home,” she said sweetly. “How has your day been so far?”

Kata carried her back to the large couch and eased into the plush seat with a small sigh, and ____ took a seat in his lap. “Long,” he replied. “Pudding’s wedding is still being planned, and with that comes the planning of procuring ingredients for the cake that Mama wants. Cracker, Smoothie, and I just now finished mapping the route our forces will take to ensure we receive supplies from the newest set of territories that were conquered a few months ago.” As he talked, he started to absentmindedly press lightly against ____’s waist and hips--it was a habit he had developed ever since they had married, and he tended to do it more often when he was stressed after a long day of work.

____ reached up and gently tugged on Kata’s scarf, and he let it fall to the ground next to them now that he was alone with her. One of her hands moved to rest on his thigh, and she mimicked his habit by gently massaging his upper leg. “You sound tired,” she remarked, looking up at her husband’s face. “And even though you’re still as handsome as ever, you look tired too.”

Kata shifted in his seat and had to fight the urge to look away from her; even now, he was still so unused to hearing compliments about his appearance. It left him so bashful that he still struggled to make eye contact with her whenever she did it, even in passing. “I’m...I am fine,” he replied. He had endured longer days of work than this, and he hated feeling tired or drained--especially in front of others. He was the iron wall of Tottland, the one that everyone could rely on. There were rumors that he didn’t even get tired, and when he did he always slept straight on his back so nobody could surprise him. ____ didn’t put much stock into rumors, but she knew for a fact that this one wasn’t true. She pursed her lips a bit at his attempt to hide any “weakness” in front of her, and then a slow smile spread across her face when an idea took root in her head.

____ turned around so that she was facing Katakuri now, and she moved her hand up to gently press against his chest. “You’ve been working harder than usual lately,” she noted, her tone sweet but with a suggestive lilt to it. “I think you deserve a little appreciation.”

Kata cocked his head slightly. “...’Appreciation’?” He was already the highest-ranked pirate in the kingdom aside from Big Mom herself, so even if he wanted to, he couldn't really receive any kind of promotion. Oh, perhaps ____ meant a second Merienda; normally he only enjoyed an additional Merienda on his birthday, but he wouldn't object to it after a long day like this one. His Observation Haki clued him in to what she really meant, and his eyes widened a bit as he saw a glimpse of the future in his mind's eye. "...Oh."

His vision came true a second later when ____ dragged the fingers of her left hand along his chest, all the way down to his belt buckle. She leaned forward and kissed the shell of Katakuri's ear, and smiled against his skin when she heard him shiver. When she pulled away, she saw the pink flush to her husband's cheeks and felt his chest heave slightly underneath her right hand. She moved her right hand up to caress his cheek. "You're so cute when you look up at me like that, Kata," she cooed. "All flustered from a few kisses and touches…"

He placed one shaky hand on top of hers and turned his head to kiss the inside of her hand, he used his other hand to unclasp his belt buckle. She had barely touched him, but he could already feel his pants becoming unbearably tight. He was normally so guarded, so strong and commanding, but he knew that when they were together, he could let his walls down and simply be with her. "You...Don't feel obligated to do this," he replied, biting his lip as he felt her gently rock her hips against him. He always felt guilty whenever she sacrificed her own pleasure for his, whether it was her insisting she'd be fine on her own when he left on voyages for weeks at a time or being so understanding when he had to leave her to attend to his mother's wishes. "I can--"

"Kata," ____ chided gently, moving past his hand to slip his belt off of his waist and curl two fingers around the zipper on his trousers. "I know I don't have to do this." She pursed her lips. "The same way you don't have to be the strongest man in the world all the time." She smirked and used both hands to shimmy his pants further down his legs, biting the inside of her cheek when she saw the tent in his underwear spring out from the black leather that it had been straining against until now. "And besides, I don't need to do this, I want to do this." She slowly made her way off of the couch and onto her knees in a position that was comfortable, and then leaned down to kiss his clothed cock. "I want you."

Kata bucked his hips forward slightly as he felt ____'s lips touch his member through the thin cloth. "I want you too," he sighed, his fists clenching when she moved to gently tug at the waistline of his underwear, leaving a series of light kisses to his cock until finally releasing his erection and watching it spring out of his trousers. A few thin beads of precum slid down the shaft, and ____ licked her dry lips before bending down to kiss him again on the tip. Kata's eyes rolled back slightly and he let out a soft groan as he finally felt the tip of her velvety tongue brush and flick his sensitive head in between every feather-light kiss from her lips.

____ felt her own arousal beginning to form a comfortably warm and wet slick in between her thighs, and she moved one hand down to play with her clitoris while using the other to gently grasp the base of Katakuri's cock. The two of them moaned in unison, and ____ began to bob her head up and down his sizeable length. She continued to moan, sigh, and practically sing as she played with herself and tasted him; the vibrations from her mouth wrapped around his length left Katakuri reeling, and he began to move his hips in time with her mouth. He couldn't remember why he'd felt so worn-out and stressed earlier. Hell, he could barely string a sentence together as the pleasure and warmth built up and bubbled inside of him. Before he knew it, his gloved hands had moved to cradle the back of her head, guiding her along at the pace he desired.

____ pulled away for a few seconds to get some air, and the sight of her lips shining with his precum made his cock twitch at the tip. Not wanting to neglect him completely while she took a short break, she continued to stroke him at a slightly faster pace than before. "How close are you, honey?" She let out a breathy laugh and quickened her pace again, relishing in the slicking sound of her hand running up and down his shaft. "From how tightly you were gripping my hair just now, I bet you're right on the edge…"

Kata felt a slight bit of shame and he immediately released the fistfuls of her hair from between his fingers. "I'm s-sorry, love," he murmured. He hadn't meant to hurt her.

____ smiled again and her eyes fluttered a bit as her other hand repeatedly brushed over a particularly sensitive section of her walls. "Ah--No need to apologize, Kata," she replied sweetly. "I love feeling you tugging on my hair like that…" She bit her lip and her smile widened; Katakuri was always easy to tease, but he was absolutely adorable whenever she talked dirty while they were together. "I like knowing just how good I make you feel…" She moved her head up a bit to lick and kiss the underside of his member, and she felt his grip on her hair tighten again. "And I love your cock so, so much~"

Katakuri inhaled sharply and involuntarily thrust his hips forward, accidentally shoving himself all the way inside of her for the first time. He immediately tried to move back and apologize for surprising (and potentially hurting) her, but she let out a lewd muffled moan as she squeezed Kata's thigh with one hand and feverishly drilled against her clit with the other.

The pressure inside of Kata coiled and he gave into his desires completely, losing all sense of restraint as he thrust into her at a feverish pace. "Aaah, I love you," he growled, repeating those three words over and over until finally gasping as the knot of pleasure inside of him reached his peak. He murmured her name softly as he felt his cock filling her mouth completely with his seed. A bit of drool fell down his chin as he panted with parted lips, hips still bucking and cock still twitching slightly as he rode out his climax.

____, just now coming down from her own high, moaned once more when she felt a trickle of Katakuri's cum on her lips. She swallowed the rest of his seed, relishing in the warmth as it slid down her throat and added to the wonderful feeling of fullness in her core. Once she felt she could stand, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and climbed up onto the couch to rest in her beloved's lap and rest her head against the crook of his neck in a loving embrace. "I love you too, dear," she sighed, placing a kiss along his jawline. Kata's cock twitched once again from the kiss, and he let out another soft moan. ____'s cheeks felt even warmer, and she smiled sheepishly; she knew how overstimulated Kata could get, and his jawline was one of his most sensitive areas. "Ah, sorry."

He managed to place a slightly trembling arm around her waist and pulled her closer to kiss her neck in return. "Don't be," he murmured, his eyes half-lidded as he gently brushed his lips and fangs against her skin. "Th-thank you for helping me relax, love." He sighed contentedly and put his other arm around her back to cradle her against him. "I know I say it often when we're together, but...I love you."

____ tilted her neck to let his mouth reach more of her as she smiled with closed eyes and gently drew circles against his skin while he did the same with the fingers around her waist. "Love you too, darling," she murmured. It was the last thing said out loud before the two of them fell asleep, their minds hazy and comfortably light as they held one another.

#one piece #one piece scenarios #one piece scenario #katakuri #charlotte katakuri #ns.fw #mine #female s/o

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carryonmywaywardcaptain · 4 years

Text

Six Feet Apart

CarryOnCap’s Masterlist

Summary: Dean is fed up with a lot of things about the Coronavirus and safety guidelines, but he’s got a compelling reason to follow them. Sometimes it’s funny what a little faith can do.

Warnings: Obviously everything surrounding the ‘Rona, mentions of terminal illness, some angst, some feels but a positive ending

A/N: @rileynicole1967 requested a Dean x reader fic based on “Six Feet Apart” by Alec Benjamin. This is definitely not what you asked for because it took a weird turn, BUT it was very therapeutic for me to write and I still managed to give it the ending you asked for. So I appreciate the request more than you know :)

[IF you happen to be curious about the inspiration behind this: I’ve been in a rough place for quite some time-- hence my Tumblr absence. Not that the self-disclosure is really needed, but my grandma is in really bad shape with her cancer and I’ve been trying to make things work with a guy who very well could have been “The One” under non-’Rona circumstances. I’ve been caught in a terrible, anxiety-inducing middle between obviously wanting to date and spend time with a guy who is out in the world everyday, but only being able to do so much without risking my grandma’s health. Aaand kind of mine too. Stupid faulty meatsuit haha. Anyway. Life has been so stinking heavy but this helped a little.]

Keys.

Mask.

Wallet.

Phone.

It was routine now. Dean had gone through the process so many times that his body practically went on autopilot as he grabbed the items on his way out of the motel room he’d checked into late last night.

There were days he thought the guidelines were frustrating, inconvenient, and even a little pointless. He knew he’d probably get the virus at some point anyway and he’d made peace with that. Maybe he’d be able to fight it off just fine, maybe he wouldn’t. But the chances of that happening were like anything else in life. Even if the world had managed to come to an eerie halt, that didn’t mean it applied to people like him and Sam who still had work to do.

Although he knew he had everything he needed, he checked his pockets again just to be sure. If it were up to him, truthfully he wouldn’t even bother with the mask or the “social distancing” crap.

But it wasn’t just about him anymore. And he couldn’t afford to take any chances.

Oh, I miss you most at six feet apart when you’re

Right outside my window, but can’t ride inside my car

And it hurts to know just how lovely you are

And be too far away to hold, but close enough to break my heart

I miss your smile

Feels like miles

Six feet apart

Dean pulled into a worn concrete driveway in front of a modest white house. The front porch, which he’d become quite familiar with lately, contained two cast iron chairs and a matching table. He’d never been inside, couldn’t risk the possibility of bringing the virus into her home if he’d unknowingly come into contact with it. While he was constantly on the road chasing cases, she only left the house for treatments, appointments, and intermittent trips to the porch when he could make it back to visit.

He sighed heavily, putting the car in park before turning to glare at the offending bit of fabric on the leather seat beside him. He hated wearing that stupid mask. Hated the way the material trapped each breath, circulating the warm air right back to his face. He hated how stuffy and suffocating it felt. Sometimes it even made him feel a little claustrophobic.

But she’d sewn it herself and given it to him so he could stop using t-shirts, bandanas, and any other piece of clothing he could find in his trunk as a makeshift mask each time he came to see her. Sometimes he struggled to keep in mind what a thoughtful gesture it had been. That having to wear it might be annoying, but it really wasn’t a big deal in the grand scheme of things. And if a stupid piece of fabric had even a small chance of keeping them safe, then he could deal with it for a few hours, couldn’t he?

A few hours, he thought sourly. Nowadays they were lucky if they could even get that much time together. But he’d take what he could get.

Reluctantly, he grabbed the mask and looped the elastic bands around each ear. After fussing with the edges, trying in vain to make it fit comfortably, he let his head fall back against the seat in frustration. As he examined the space above him, sinking deeper into his ruminating thoughts, he began to wonder how much longer he could keep this up and if all of this was really worth it.

So far, so far, but so close

Like a star out in the cosmos

Can’t touch the beauty I see

That’s how it feels at six feet

It had been a while since the last time he’d been able to visit her. When the front door opened and two women emerged, he climbed out of the car and walked straight to his usual spot on the overgrown lawn. As he got closer and appraised her condition, he tried to conceal his reaction.

She looked rough. Despite the fuzzy robe she wore, he could tell how feeble her figure was beneath. Her movements were slow and deliberate, making him suspect she may have fallen again recently. He clenched his jaw, recalling how she’d been too weak to pick herself up last time and had remained on the floor until someone came to check on her the next morning.

With help from the other woman, who he assumed was a new caretaker, she settled into the cushions on one of the chairs. Her chest heaved and her eyes fell closed as she took a moment to recover from the exertion of her short walk. When her eyes finally fluttered open, they were a stark contrast against her sallow skin.

“Long time, no see,” she teased, her voice a hoarse whisper.

Dean nodded. “How’re you feeling today?”

“Can’t complain.”

In a way, he knew she was lying. He had a feeling she was having a rough day, but she was never one to complain. He had quickly learned that no matter what was going on in her life, she was the kind of person who worried about everyone else and put their well-being before her own. He wondered what kind of update the doctor had given her this time, but he was too afraid to ask.

“It’s so good to see you.”

Her gentle admission shook him from his thoughts. The edges of her eyes crinkled and he could just imagine the smile she wore beneath her mask.

Space and time are interwoven

Well, at least that’s what we’re told

When I was young, I was suspicious, but it’s true

Time sticks like glue

I feel so blue

Here missing you

So I think I’ll build a time machine and go back to a time

When we didn’t need to measure six feet on the ground

When I came around

That’s not allowed

I can’t go back now

He’d never really been the relationship type. He hadn’t been looking for anything when their paths had first crossed, but there was something about her that had captured his interest. The more they’d gotten to know one another, the more he learned just how much they had in common.

It had made him feel uneasy at first-- how easy she was for him to talk to. She rarely pressed him on anything and she had a way of making him feel comfortable even with the hardest conversations. They’d shared their life stories; their favorite memories, biggest letdowns, family dramas, and everything in between. After all of the monsters they’d each faced in their lives...this one was the deadliest and ugliest he’d ever had to face. And of all the people in the world who didn’t deserve to go through something like this, she topped the list.

Okay, sure, no one really deserved a death sentence. But didn’t it always make it worse that bad things always seemed to happen to good people?

Dean had beaten leviathans and reapers. He’d taken out loads of vampires, ghouls, and ghosts. He’d ganked more angel and demon douchebags than he could count. But when he had asked her to let him help-- when he’d mentioned what Cas could do or offered to work with Sam to find a spell that might heal her-- she politely declined. She had simply thanked him and explained that it wouldn’t be fair to everyone else fighting for their lives like she was. That her life was in no way more important than anyone else’s. She’d told Dean sometimes these things just happen and have a little faith, you never know.

Dean had of course tried to argue, but he couldn’t quite put into words just how special she was. That she didn’t deserve this and he’d give anything to change their circumstances. At one point he’d even considered tracking down a crossroads demon and making a deal to switch places with her, but he knew she wouldn’t have wanted that.

No matter how many times he tried to bring it up or how much he wished he could fight this one for her, there was nothing he could do to fight the monster slowly killing her from the inside out.

So, I miss you most at six feet apart when you’re

Right outside my window, but can’t ride inside my car

And it hurts to know just how lovely you are

And be too far away to hold, but close enough to break my heart

I miss your smile

Feels like miles

Six feet apart

It seemed like there was never enough time. They’d talked all afternoon and neither one of them were ready to say goodbye but, when she suddenly shivered, he knew it was time for him to leave. It wasn’t cold outside by any means, but it took a lot more to keep her warm these days.

He couldn’t help but linger a little longer, admiring her from where he still sat in the grass. Sometimes just being in her presence helped ease a little of the hopelessness he always seemed to grapple with. It was starting to take a toll on him-- not knowing if things would ever get better or if the world would ever return to some sense of normalcy.

What he wanted more than anything was to walk right up on the porch and wrap his arms around her. It didn’t make sense how much he ached to just be near her. He’d never admit it out loud, but it was almost physically painful how much he wanted to reach out and touch her-- to hug her, kiss her, or even see her smile without their stupid masks.

But she was barely holding on and he knew her body was fighting every moment of the day just to keep her alive.

He hated wearing his mask. He hated how he could be so close to her and still feel so far away. He hated not being able to hold her and he hated that there didn’t seem to be an end or a solution in sight for the state of the world at the moment. He hated that she was dying and there was nothing he could do about it. And he especially hated the fact that the universe had to have a pretty damn cruel sense of humor to let him meet someone like her in a time like this. Even though he was fed up with feeling like he was stuck in another one of Gabriel’s twisted, incessant pranks...the thought of walking away and not having her in his life at all was far worse.

So he took it one day at a time. He knew there was a chance he might get the virus at some point and usually he was ready to accept whatever cards fate dealt him. Maybe he’d be able to fight it off, maybe he wouldn’t. But she wouldn’t be able to. And he knew if he slipped up, if he somehow managed to pass it along, that that would be the end for her.

He hated a lot of things lately and he wasn’t sure if they’d ever really go away. But there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that every single inconvenience and moment of frustration was worth it for him to be able to spend time with her-- even six feet apart.

***

Dean was staring up at the ceiling, unable to fall back asleep. The nightmares didn’t come as often anymore but, when they did...well, they were no walk in the park. He let out a sharp breath, squeezing his eyes shut as he pushed the images of her sunken face from his mind.

The movement had jostled her, and he hugged her closer when she began to stir. He placed a gentle kiss on top of her head and she hummed softly as she nestled further into his chest.

When they were in the thick of it, it had been so hard to see a way out. To believe they’d be okay or ever have a shot at actually being together. To believe there would be an end to the virus or that there was any chance she could get better.

Sometimes those dark days, when all hope seemed lost, felt like nothing more than a distant nightmare. But Dean refused to let himself forget. Maybe it was morbid, but every moment with her felt a little bit sweeter when he reminded himself of how grim those days had been and of everything they’d had to overcome. When he remembered everything she’d had to endure.

It was honestly a miracle that he was lucky enough to hold her in his arms like this. Everyone had asked him on numerous occasions if he’d done something, but even he didn’t have an explanation. He really didn’t care whether it was faith or something supernatural or even just one of life’s unexplained mysteries-- all that mattered was that she was healthy and alive.

So he kept the memories of those days close and promised himself he’d never take the time he had with her for granted. They had made it through one of the darkest times in either of their lives and he had no doubt they’d face more in the future. But, with her by his side, he had faith they’d find a way to make it through those days too.

So far, so far, but so close

Like a star out in the cosmos

Can’t touch the beauty I see

That’s how it all feels to me

So far, so far, but so close

Like a star out in the cosmos

Can’t touch the beauty I see

That’s how it feels at six feet

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readyplayerhobi · 4 years

Text

Flower | 16

; Hoseok x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, slight angst

; Warnings: Mention of car accident/death/depression

; Word Count: 5k

; Synopsis: You finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the Flower dating app. One of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. What happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

; A/N: Thanks for keeping with me after the hiatus! There may be another next week but for now, here’s part 16 :) I hope you all enjoy, please reblog if you do so that others can see it as well! Leave me comments and asks, I love to talk about this world with you all!’

; Flower Masterpost

It’s a rather novel concept, you think to yourself wryly as you watch the way Hoseok runs his palms along the length of thighs once more, trying to wipe away his anxiety. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Hoseok look like this nervous or unsure of himself in the whole six months you’ve been dating him.

You’re currently driving over to your parents, having accepted their offer of dinner. Normally you’d just go by yourself, but this Saturday your parents had explicitly invited you to bring Hoseok. He’d agreed, obviously, but he’d been a little hesitant. Even you knew that meeting the parents was a big step in a relationship.

While being nervous yourself to introduce him to them properly, you also felt that it was the right time for it. You loved your parents and they’d always been so supportive of you, no matter what you’d decided to do in life. It only made sense for you to finally introduce the man who made you smile just at the thought of him.

Despite that, you were still worried about everything because you desperately wanted them to like him. Their approval meant a lot to you and knowing that they thought he was a good match was equally as important to you as him liking them. But you’d never brought any guy home before, or anyone really. Never even really mentioned dating to them to be honest.

You’d always been shy around that kind of stuff, only dating and all of that in college where you could almost be anonymous amongst the large student body. So for you to bring home Hoseok meant that he was special, very special. And they knew it too. But you just didn’t know how you were meant to act with them or him, or what the protocols were for bringing home your partner.

Unfortunately for you, Hoseok had no idea either. You’d been both surprised and yet not to find out he’d never met a girlfriend’s parents before. It was something you supposed that you’d expected given who he was and what he’d told you of his past. He’d never dated seriously enough to warrant meeting parents so he was in the same boat of uncertainty as you.

Only...the Hoseok who had been a rock for you in the murkiness of your life and mind these last few months had suddenly needed a rock in turn. His lack of experience in this department combined with his need to make sure he makes a good impression for both you and him meant that he’d taken on the role of nervous and awkward person in your relationship.

Which considering the fact that you were currently experiencing a downward slide in your own mental health, the exhilarating happiness of the last few months finally catching up to you and sending you back down the road of depression and severe anxiety, was impressive. But it was proving a great distraction away from the way you were slumping backwards in your mood, letting you focus instead on Hoseok.

He’d spent all of last night being very quiet, his thoughts evidently far away and he’d asked you about a million questions about your parents. You’d thought it was all very sweet of him to be so worried but at the same time, you were hoping he’d get back to being his bright self because it was starting to make you worry a little too.

And he was being very serious about it all as well because even sex hadn’t been able to take his mind off it for too long. Your magnificent boyfriend had finally, finally managed to make you orgasm during sex a week or so ago and he’d been beyond proud of himself that he’d done it.

You’d thought that giving him a goal to achieve to make himself feel better would be good, and of course you got an added benefit from that...

But last night, he’d been okay for exactly half an hour before he’d cuddled up to you and began querying you once more. You hadn’t got annoyed at him though, because you knew he was just genuinely worried about how they might take him. Seeing him in your pictures on social media and hearing you talk about him is one thing, but meeting him is another thing entirely.

Hoseok’s opinion of himself was that he was a tattooed, pierced metalhead with a long history of sexual escapades and plenty of wild drunken nights. Not what most parents wanted for their daughter to date, especially when said daughter was so socially introverted and easy to hurt.

Your efforts to soothe his worries hadn’t really worked, so now you just supposed that he had to be shown that your parents would like him. There was no doubt in your mind that they would, because despite all of the things he was worried about himself for, he had one thing going for him that perhaps the most important thing of all.

He made you happy and he made you smile.

You knew that they would give him more than enough chances to prove himself because of those two facts alone, because they knew more than anyone how hard you struggled to make friends and how romance had been almost a foreign term to you. So to meet the man that had finally managed to show you what a relationship could and should be was high on their list.

Pulling into the drive behind your dad’s car, you look out at the small house that you’d grown up in. It’s nothing big or fancy, one of the smaller houses in this neighbourhood of working class people really. The paint on the awnings was chipped and fading while the railing on the porch sagged a little from the weight of its age.

Even your dad’s car in front of you showed more than enough signs of wear and tear. His job as an engineer at a car manufacturer was based half an hour away from here, with most of that down the highway. It had paid enough to keep the house going along with the car but most of his salary and your moms had gone to paying for your college fees.

Only now were they finally able to properly save up for themselves, hoping to buy a house that was a little nicer than the one they had now. Eyeing the lawn out front, you sighed as you saw it was starting to look overgrown with more than a few patches looking brown and the mailbox was beginning to lean to the side.

“I should come home more often,” You muse out loud to yourself, taking the keys out of the ignition and pressing the button on your seat belt holder. “Help my parents out with the chores and stuff.”

Hoseok looks around as well and you hope that he’s not disgusted or anything by your childhood home. You know that his parents are much better off than your own but he’s never shown himself to be a snobby person or anything.

“Well if you want to, I can come too? I mean...if they want me to. I can help do any manual work if they need it?” Smiling, you reach up and tap his cheek fondly with your palm and internally cheer as he gives you a smile in response.

“I’d like that, you're good with your hands. Just don’t let them take no for an answer then. My parents are wonderful people who deserved far more in life than they got, but they’re still proud. They’ll accept our help as long as we don’t make out that it’s help, you know?” He nods, looking thoughtful before letting out a deep sigh.

Giving him a once over, you get out of the car and wait for him to do the same, locking it behind you before making your way up the path of broken and cracked flagstones. Hoseok’s hand around your wrist stops you suddenly as he pulls at you slightly and you turn, frowning when you see the worry on his face.

“What if they don’t like me? Should I have worn something different?” He asks, for possibly the tenth time today and you internally sigh before facing him fully. His outfit today is just like any other; black jeans with rips and a band shirt with his usual leather jacket slung over the top. Only his hair looks slightly different and that’s because he’s been running his hands through it anxiously.

Placing your hands on his waist, you stroke them up and down reassuringly before giving him a big smile. Hoseok pauses for a moment before his arms wrap around you in turn, causing you to hug him back tightly with your cheek mashed against his warm chest.

“You’ll be okay Hoseok, honestly. I’ve told you enough times and I’m positive you’re gonna find out I’m right. I’m the most awkward one in my family so if you can win me over then you’ll do fine. Please just be yourself because you’re one of the most outgoing and charismatic people I’ve ever seen.” He eyes you carefully before he chews at his lip ring.

You’d had to convince him to keep that in, along with his tongue piercing because he’d wanted to take them out to make a better impression. But you wanted your parents to meet the Hoseok you knew and adored so much, not one that censored himself.

“Okay. Yeah, okay. Sorry.” Muttering the words, you see the frown on his own face and lean forward, catching his attention once more as you press your lips to his in a sweet kiss. One arm moves from around his body to cup his cheek, thumb stroking gently and when you pull away, you see him looking a little calmer.

Moving backwards, you reach down and grab his hand in yours, pulling him along the short path with a bright smile. “Come on mister, I’ve got a surprise for you that you’re gonna love.”

You hear Hoseok’s confused noise behind you, wondering what on earth you’re on about when you bounce up the stairs to the porch and open the front door of your parents house. Almost immediately you hear the scurrying of paws and crouch down with open arms as a furry dog comes barreling out of the living room, barking excitedly.

“Hello baby girl!” You coo to the golden retriever who almost knocks you over in her enthusiasm, tail wagging wildly as she pushes her nose into your face and tries to climb into your non existent lap. Laughing, you stroke her head before standing up and turning to Hoseok. That’s all the cue she needs to begin investigating him, tail going just as hard as she sniffs him all over.

You can’t help but laugh loudly at his face when she shoves her nose in his crotch and you reach down to grab her collar, tugging her inside gently while Hoseok closes the door behind you both. Kicking off your shoes and placing them onto the shoe rack, you watch as Hoseok does the same before he crouches down as well, a bright smile on his face as he holds his hand out for her to smell.

“This is Harley. She’s an old girl now but we had a lot of fun times when I was in high school. Isn’t that right eh? You were my best friend back then.” Ruffling her fur, you laugh as she drops to the floor and presents her belly, pushing her nose into Hoseok’s hand in her need to get as much attention as physically possible.

“You didn’t tell your parents owned a dog.” Hoseok’s tone is almost accusatory and you grin mischievously.

“Didn’t tell you because I know you love dogs and I wanted her to be a surprise. She’s been a very long lived retriever, she’s actually 13 now and we got her when I was 13 but she’s still the furry ball of love she always was.” Running your fingers through the golden fur that didn’t quite feel as soft as it once had, you give a sad smile.

You know that there will be a day when your parents call to say that she wasn’t here anymore, but you also knew that she’d had such a long and wonderful life that you’d be okay with that fact. For now though, you were going to give her plenty of pets and love. And looking at Hoseok as he beams, leaning down to almost press his face to hers while all the tension he’d been holding leaves him, you know that he’ll do the same.

“If you’re not careful, you’re gonna send her into a coma of love.” Your dad says and you look up with a big grin at the sight of him, giving Harley one last stroke before standing and moving over to him. He’s dressed casually as usual, just black sweatpants and a plain black t-shirt with those grey wool socks he loves to wear covering his feet.

“Hi. And you know she loves it.” Turning, you watch as Hoseok gives Harley another pet before standing up slowly. It almost breaks your heart how nervous and shy he looks, his hands come around to clasp together at his front while his gaze steadfastly doesn’t meet your dads.

Moving over to him, you wrap your hand around his arm and look back at your dad, noting that your mom has arrived too. She’s just in some plain grey lounge pants with a graphic t-shirt with Toothless the dragon on it. You’d told them to be casual with Hoseok, hoping if they just dressed like they normally would in the house then he wouldn’t get too stressed immediately.

“Mom, dad, this is Hoseok. My...err.” You find yourself freezing as you try to introduce him, the word you’re trying to say almost getting stuck in your throat and you frown in annoyance at yourself. God, you couldn’t even do this right.

Hoseok saves you though, taking a deep breath before giving them his most charming smile, the one that wins over just about anyone who sees it. “I’m Jung Hoseok, her boyfriend. It’s nice to meet you.”

You can tell by the twitch in his arm that he wants to hold out a hand for a handshake or something but you keep a tight grip on him, thinking that’d probably just be too formal and strange. He was meeting your parents, not the President of the United States.

“Hi Hoseok, Y/N’s told us a lot about you.” Your dad says, nothing negative in his voice as he scans over Hoseok before giving him a brief smile. The relief you feel as you sense that Hoseok has passed the visual test at least that your parents are no doubt giving him right now is palpable.

“She has! Come in, come in. Both of you. Do you want to take your jacket off?” This comes from your mom now, her tone telling him that even though it was a question, he should probably obey. Sure enough, Hoseok hears that and acknowledges it, giving a gracious smile before shrugging out of his jacket and handing it to her when she reaches for it.

Gently, you push Hoseok through to the living room and direct him to a seat that won’t be occupied. You weren’t sure about other households, but yours always had assigned seating based on people’s preferences on the couch.

Your dad took the end of the couch, your mom always took the bit that stuck out so she could almost lay down and you always sat in the armchair. But for today, you sat on the couch and watched as your dad sat in the armchair. Hoseok carefully sat next to you and as he did so, you placed your hand on his thigh and rubbed it gently.

“You okay?” You whisper quietly and he nods in response, his hand moving to grasp yourself and thread your fingers together. Harley is there mere moments later, pushing her face as close as she can get without actually climbing onto you both and you smile as Hoseok lets out a quiet laugh, his free hand moving to stroke her gently.

“Was your drive over okay? Is your car still making that noise?” Glancing away from Harley, you look at your dad with raised brows before nodding to him.

“Yeah it was fine, there was no traffic really which is why we’re a bit early. And it doesn’t seem to be doing it now? You can’t look though, Hoseok let me drive his.” Your dad liked to mess around with cars and you knew that given enough chance, he’d have been outside looking over your car already if you’d had it. It was the same car that you’d been driving since high school and it had been old even back then. Now, you were positive that you probably wouldn’t even be able to sell it anymore.

You knew damn well that Hoseok didn’t like it. His own car wasn’t new or anything but it was only five years old. Which meant it was less of a potential death trap than your own car was. He wasn’t hugely territorial about it and you’d driven it a few times already. It wasn’t much to admit that you loved driving it compared to yours.

“Ahh, you should bring it next time and let me have a look at it for you, flower. Although ideally, I hope you can afford to get a new one soon. I don’t like the idea of you driving that around, especially in winter.” Pouting at him, you play with Hoseok’s fingers before shrugging.

“I’d love to buy a new one dad, but I can’t. I am saving though, so I can at least buy one that's only a few years old soon enough. I’ve got my eye on a nice looking Hyundai that’s not too expensive, only four years old and some good mileage too.” He eyes you, lips pursing out before he’s pulling out his smartphone.

“Is there a link online?” Rolling your eyes, you take his phone and bring up the listing for the Hyundai you’d been keeping tabs on for the last month. You put away money each month into your savings account, hoping that you’d eventually one day get enough to put down a deposit on a house or something but you knew that you’d need a new car much sooner.

And you could almost afford to buy this car.

“Your dad calls you flower?” Hoseok whispers to you, smiling in amusement as you sit back, acknowledging the irony of your childhood nickname. Looking up at him, you chuckle and nod in acknowledgement, watching as your mom gets up to head into the kitchen.

“Do you want a drink Hoseok?” She gives you a questioning look as well as you ask for a Coke, watching as Hoseok panics for a moment as he wonders what would be the best to drink to ask for. Grinning, you squeeze his hand affectionately and look back at your mom.

“You can have a beer if you want? I’m driving so I don’t mind.” You can see the wide eyed look of shock from Hoseok, the shock likely that you’re encouraging him to drink and possibly perpetuate his stereotype of being a heavy drinking metalhead. But you know your parents, so you just reassure him with a smile.

“Err...yeah, I mean...yes please. A beer would be nice, if you have one.” That gets a snort from your dad as your mom disappears, returning a minute later with your can of Coke and an opened bottle of Hoseok’s favourite beer. Watching intently, you can’t help but laugh at the confused look on his face as he accepts it carefully.

“Y/N told us what your favourite drink is. We wanted to make you a bit more comfortable.”

It’s only then that Hoseok’s eyes narrow as he looks at you, lifting your hands up to gently push at your nose until you’re giggling at him, biting your lower lip. He doesn’t say anything though, simply takes a sip of beer before turning and giving your mom a gracious smile.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to-” He goes to say something else but your dad makes a noise, looking up at you both before gesturing to Hoseok sternly.

“We make sure our guests are comfortable in this house. It might not be much to look at, but we always look after our guests. Especially when they mean so much to Y/N.” Glancing at you, his gaze turns back to Hoseok whose cheeks flush slightly, his own gaze dropping from your dads to the neck of his bottle.

Well...you had told him that they were still proud people.

Scooting forward, you slide off the sofa to situate yourself on the plush carpeted floor of the living room, making fussing noises to Harley who has stretched herself out on the floor in front of you. As you busy yourself with playing with your dog, you don’t notice the way your parents watch Hoseok in turn as he watches you.

“Y/N says that you’re in IT right? And you got that promotion the other month?” You don’t bother to look up, knowing that Hoseok can handle himself and trusting your parents to be as nice to him as they are to everyone else they’ve ever met.

“Err, yeah. I err, I lead another team. It’s a little hard to describe as we have multiple sites but I’m now like, the manager of two of them. The bonus is more pay and responsibility, which will hopefully be good for my career. The downside is I’m busier...and more responsibility means more stress.” Leaning back against his leg, you look up at him from the floor.

“You’re doing good though. You manage your stress way better than I do.” You can’t quite see him properly from this angle but you do see his smile, pushing your head into his hand a little as he runs his fingers along your cheek.

“That’s debatable. I just...learnt a long time ago some coping methods to deal with it. I was in therapy throughout college. My sister died in a car accident and I developed some very unhealthy coping mechanisms afterwards for a few years. Therapy helped me and it still helps me today thankfully.” Without even realising it, you have one hand gripping onto his calf in an effort to soothe any upset he may have.

You still find it amazing how easily he’ll talk about his sister’s accident but you’re beyond thankful that he’s willing to open himself up like that to your parents. By being honest about such a traumatic event for him so young, he was showing them that he was more than just what he looked like. You hadn’t told him to tell them that story, nor had you even hinted at it. But you assumed that’s what he was doing.

Sure enough, your parents warm right up to him and begin asking him questions about not only his work but his life. And you get to spend the next few hours watching in pleasure as Hoseok relaxes in their company, becoming more like the Hoseok you’ve come to know and enjoy over the last few months.

You’re pretty positive your mom has been won over solely by his personality and good looks while your dad is more fascinated with Hoseok’s skills with computers. That and his tattoos. Hoseok had given you another betrayed look when your dad had shown him the tattoo on his upper left arm and you could almost hear the ‘you never told me’ in his eyes.

All in all though, it went very well and your own anxiety about introducing them all together ebbed away slowly as the evening went on. The dinner your mom cooked was delicious and you were beyond happy that she’d given you a bunch of leftovers in tupperware for your freezer. Hoseok had been equally ecstatic when she’d given him some too, though he’d handed them over to you given that he spent most of his time at yours.

You were positive that hadn’t gone unnoticed by them.

Finally though, it was 10pm and you were getting tired, head lolling on Hoseok’s shoulder as the television played out the film you’d all been watching. Harley was laid on your feet, keeping them warm and you could have happily just fallen asleep right there, content with your boyfriends arm around you and the gentle chatter of your parents.

But Hoseok was gently shaking you awake, an amused smile on his lips before he pressed them to your temple in a gentle kiss. “This is becoming a habit, miss.”

His teasing was light and gentle, but you just gave him a smile back, wiping at your eyes before blinking rapidly to wake them up. You hadn’t worn any makeup today, not seeing the need given all three people in this house had seen you without it plenty of times.

One of the benefits that you hadn’t considered before was that Hoseok was eager to take your pictures, meaning that he’d volunteered himself to be your photographer and editor for your makeup Instagram. Now your pictures looked even better and it was all thanks to him and his fancy camera, but you knew that despite how much he liked your makeup, he preferred the natural girl he got to see most often.

“Mom, dad, we’re gonna head off now. Thank you for dinner and all the leftovers. And the cookies mom. I appreciate it all and I’m sure Kasumi will love her special homemade cat treats,” Your mom loved Kasumi and wanted to get a cat of her own. Whenever Harley went, you knew that she’d probably get a puppy and a kitten so they could grow up together. “But it’s late and I want to go to bed.”

Stretching, you grunt as your shirt rides up and Hoseok pokes your ribs gently, mischief present in his eyes and you scowl at him before poking at his stomach. Trust him to be wide awake while you’re a bit sleepy. Though he’s ever so slightly glassy eyed from the alcohol, meaning you need to wake up a bit more to drive home.

“You’re welcome, you know we love having you home. We loved meeting you too Hoseok and you’re welcome here anytime as well. With or without Y/N,” You can just imagine Hoseok’s face behind you right now. “We’re pretty open as you can tell and if you ever need us for anything, please just ask.”

“Okay mom, let’s not freak him out anymore okay? Thank you both, I’ll bring my car over soon dad.” Tugging on your shoes, you stand and slip your arms into the jacket Hoseok is holding up for you before bending down and fussing Harley.

“Don’t bother, I’ll give you what you’re missing for that Hyundai-” He holds his hand up when you go to protest, not wanting his charity but you know you’re not going to win given his stern look. “Given how much money we’ve put into that car you have now over the years, I’ll feel better just giving you this for that car and having the peace of mind to know you’re safe. So I’ll transfer it over to you and then I want you to go buy it. Don’t let yourself get ripped off flower, make sure you test drive it first and ask for a full history. Check it all out. Take Hoseok if you have to. I wish it wasn’t like this but you know that they’re less likely to be dicks if there’s a guy there. Especially one that looks like this.”

With that, he puts a hand on Hoseok’s shoulder and grins. Your boyfriend eyes him for a moment before giving an answering nod, shrugging on his own leather jacket once your dad lets go of him.

“I’ll make sure she doesn’t get ripped off. Though she doesn’t need me to take care of her.” He looks at you then, lips quirked up in the corner before he kisses your forehead. “She’s got her homelife put together much better than me.”

“Yeah, that’s right dad. You hear that? I’m doing good. Not having to survive on ramen noodles or anything.” You grin, walking out of the door and turning round to accept the bag of leftover food your mom gives you. Hoseok heads over to the car, opening the passenger door before letting his arms rest on top of it.

“Yeah, sometimes she even makes box pasta.” Glaring at him, you point at him until he gets an innocent look and lifts up both hands, palm out before getting in the car. “That’s right mister, you just wait.”

“I like him.” Your dad says quietly, attracting your attention back to him and you grin, warmth and happiness overflowing inside you at his words. He can’t have any idea how much that means to you, to know that he approves of Hoseok.

“Me too. He’s nice and he obviously cares a lot about you. You’re happy right?” Nodding, you feel hot with embarrassment at the personal conversation with them and your mom laughs softly, reaching out and running her thumb over your cheek. “That’s all we want for you. Now go on, he’s looking impatient.”

“He just wants to see Kasumi, he loves her.” That makes both your parents laugh and you smile in turn, waving to them both as you head down the path to the car. Looking at Hoseok as he waves at your parents as well once you’re in the car, seat belt clicked into place and engine on, you let out a tiny sigh of relief.

One half of the meeting the parents completed. Now just for the other half.

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f0rever15elf · 4 years

Text

Cozy

Pairing: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x f!reader Rating: G Word Count: 1,749 Warnings: I say bitch like...twice? A little bit of angst about life being hard. Super Soft!Jack, no beta

Summary: Late night, come home. Work sucks, I know. He left you roses by the stairs. Surprises let you know he cares.

A/N: Yes, I never left my emo phase, thank you for noticing. No, I don’t regret blatantly ripping off Blink-182 for the summary. It fits. I wrote this piece for my dear friend @whiskeyslasso <3 I hope this makes your morning a little bit sweeter, dear.

Masterlist | Ao3

Some days, life is hard. Some days, the weight of existence can be so heavy it’s unbearable. Some days, all you want to do is lay down and bawl your eyes out, disappearing into the shadows. And those days...those are the days that Jack Daniels would bring down the heavens for you, if only you should ask.

Work had been, to put it simply, an absolute bitch. Nothing had gone as it should have, and somehow it was all your fault. Or so your boss had said, anyways. Not that you paid her too much heed, but the constant berating eventually takes its toll. By the end of the day, you want nothing more than to just go home and sit under your shower until the water ran cold, letting it take all your stress and issues down the drain. But the minute you walked in the front door, your intentions to wallow in the shower were thwarted.

The lights in the already cozy house were low, lower than you remembered them being able to get. It took you a minute to realize that it was candles causing the warm and comforting glow. All candles. Little tea lights up to those big, expensive, three woodwick candles that you fawned over every time you went to the store. The house smelt amazing, like fresh baked cookies and spiced chai, your absolute favorite on cold winter days, and you could hear the crackle of the fireplace in the living room. The house is warm and comforting, quickly chasing away the cold from your bones.

“Jack?” you call from the hallway, taking off your shoes as you make your way inside. You find him in the kitchen, a Texas sized smile on his face with his ‘kiss the cook’ apron tied around him and covered in flour.

“There you are, Sugar. I’ve been getting ready for you to come home.” He takes off the flour covered apron, making his way around to you to pull you into his arms, holding you securely to his chest. The strong heartbeat under your ear chips away a little at the misery that seems to be clouding your entire being at the moment, but you’re still too tired to wrap your arms back around him. You take a deep breath, breathing in the smell of that rich cologne he always wore around you, like worn leather and spiced maple. You had fallen in love with it when he brought you with him to try new scents and now it was the only thing he would wear around you. He’d never tell you, but one of his favorite things is when your hugs linger just a little longer than normal so you can enjoy how he smells in it.

“Today was..so bad, Jack,” you whisper into his chest as his fingers thread through your hair in the most soothing of manners as he holds you a little tighter.

��I could tell from your text, Darlin’. It’s why I’ve taken the liberty of preparin’ the most comforting of evenin’s for you.” He pulls back just a bit, lifting your chin to smile down at you before leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “Fresh cookies and your favorite chai. Went and got a few of those Woodwicks you’ve been raving about too, and there’s plenty of cozy blankets on the sofa. Figured we’d snuggle on in for the evenin’ and watch your favorite movies. How does that sound?” His thumb rubs lightly along your chin as he still holds your face up to him and for the first time that day, you feel yourself smiling. It’s small, but it’s there, and Jack returns it with one so bright, you can’t help the warmth that runs through you, slowly bringing your hands up to rest on his waist.

“Thank you, love. So much.” Your voice is soft, afraid that if you talk too loudly it might break. He continues to smile, leaning in to kiss you gently once more. You could melt into the feeling of his lips on yours. Kissing him just felt so...good, so right.

“Now, I just pulled your PJs from the dryer so they should still be nice ‘n’ warm. Go get cleaned up and cozy, and I’ll meet you in the living room, alright?” You nod and he lets go of your face, cupping your cheek gently as you nod. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before you turn to head upstairs, giving your butt a gentle pat as you so so, causing your cheeks to flush with heat. Your heart melts further when you make it up to the bedroom and see it all laid out. The plushest blankets Jack owned were turned down on the bed, and he had strung those faerie lights you had been begging him to get for weeks now all across the room. There was a vase of more roses than you could count on your side of the bed, and a neatly wrapped candy bar with a gorgeous little bow rested on your pillow. He’d pulled out your softest PJ pants, the ones covered in the cute little animals in scarves, and had grabbed one of his larger shirts to pair with it. He knew how much you loved wearing his clothes. You were at the point where you could honestly start crying, it was all so perfect after such a shit day it bordered on overwhelming. God, Jack Daniels was perfect, and you felt like the luckiest woman in existence.

Stripping out of your work clothes, you quickly change into the still-warm PJs before washing your face, trying to imagine the hot water washing away everything about today. You take a moment to look in the mirror and sigh. She looks so tired. Tossing the towel down, you make your way back downstairs to see Jack setting the mugs and tray of cookies on the coffee table. He glances up to you and smiles that charming smile of his before taking a seat on the couch, holding his arms out for you.

“C’mere, Beautiful,” he drawls and you all but run to him, climbing on to the couch and collapsing into his strong embrace. His arms hold you to him, safe and secure, and you relax into the feeling of home. Nothing could touch you here, not with Jack holding you like this. His hand runs up and down your back soothingly, rubbing away the stresses of the day as he clicks on the TV. “Which movie first, Darlin’?” He speaks softly, gently, and you can feel the rumble of it in his chest. It paired deliciously with the low crackle of the fire, a perfect match.

“That one,” you reply just as softly, pointing to your absolute favorite feel-good movie and he chuckles, selecting it before setting the remote down and grabbing you a cookie. You take it happily, letting the warmth from the pastry travel up your fingers. You can feel Jack’s eyes on you as you take a bite, letting out a quiet mewl of pleasure a the warm, buttery, chocolaty taste.

“Made ‘em from scratch, just like my mama use to make ‘em for me.” He places a sweet kiss to the top of your head as you eat, all the while making happy sounds. When you finish, you grin up at him, a twinkle returning to your eyes.

“That was the best cookie I have ever had, Jack. Your mama would be so proud.” His cheeks tinge pink at the praise and he chuckles again, the vibrations in his chest pleasant against you.

“Well now, looks like you got a bit of chocolate on your lip there. Here, let me get that for you.” He tilts your head up, leaning in to kiss you, his tongue swiping along your bottom lip to collect the little bit of chocolate that was there before pulling away. “You know, I’d reckon it tastes even better on your lips than it does in the cookies.” He winks at you before settling back into the couch, and you giggle like a high school girl, hiding your face against his broad chest.

The whole evening, Jack never leaves your side, keeping you cuddled up to him as much as he can. As the exhaustion of the day meets up with the comfort and peace the love of your life brings you, you begin to find it hard to keep your eyes open and focused on the TV. Jack’s steady breathing and heart beat paired with the down right obscene amount of blankets the two of you had nested yourselves in was the perfect place to slowly doze off, the misery of the day completely forgotten. You’re awoken for just a moment at the feeling of being carried, looking up in confusion as you try to reorient yourself.

“Easy there, Darlin’,” Jack whispers to you, careful to not break the stillness of the night with words too loud. “We’re goin’ to bed now is all.” He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head once again as you make it to the top of the stairs. You know Jack is strong, this wasn’t the first time he’s carried you, but it still made your heart flutter the way it did the very first time he picked you up. Carefully, he lays you in bed, helping you get comfy before pulling the blankets up around you, kissing your lips then your forehead like you are the most precious thing in this world. And to him, you absolutely are. A strong, gentle, gun-calloused hand brushes the hair from you face and cups for cheek for a moment and your eyes stubbornly refusing to open in your state of sleepiness. You hear him faintly, like in a dream, as he changes as well, sliding into bed with you, pulling you to his chest. He would keep you safe tonight, keep the bad dreams away. You melt into his hold, your body finally completely relaxing against him as he molds his body to yours.

The last thing you remember before slipping into a peaceful slumber is his voice murmuring to you, “My strong little sunflower, I love you so much. I’m so proud of you.” You let out a content sigh as you finally drift to sleep in the arms of the man who held your heart completely. Things simply couldn’t be more perfect.

~~~~~

Taglist: Permanent: @ahopelessromanticwritersworld, @tangledlove27, @paintballkid711, @lose-eels, @adamdrivercouldchokeme

#agent whiskey #jack daniels #jack whiskey daniels #agent whiskey x you #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey x f!reader #jack whiskey daniels x reader #jack whiskey daniels x you #kingsman and the golden circle #pedro pascal

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