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#but if you don’t have that then squeeze a few drops of lemon on top of it and put some sugar on it
evermoredeluxe · 9 months
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everyone needs to go have sauerkraut with sweet pickle right now
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ascendingtostardust · 5 months
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Help You Remember
(Sam Kiszka x f!reader)
wc: 1.2k
Warnings: mentions of food/eating, mentions of poor memory - let me know if I missed anything!
When it came down to it, Sam was a creature of habit. Of course he liked to be spontaneous and off-the-cuff on occasion, but he found himself in falling into a familiar rhythm day-to-day when he had some time off from working. That meant that you also stepped into those routines that comprised your daily life together.
You don’t know when exactly it happened, but at some point over the last few months you and Sam had become regulars at a little bakery down the street from your home. Every Monday and Friday mornings before the morning rush, the employees at Snookums came to expect the two of you just as they finished putting the last tray of morning muffins in the case. It had become customary for you and Sam to always choose something different than you had picked out the previous visit “to keep life exciting,” Sam had said.
Their flavors of muffins, danishes, rolls, and loaves rotated weekly, which only highlighted your indecisiveness and poor memory as you stood peering through the glass case to figure out what treat you were going to choose for the day. Ever the patient partner, Sam would wait as long as you needed to come to a decision with nothing more than a simple “you did say you were in the mood for lemon last night and look! Lemon muffins today!”
After your first few trips to the bakery, you couldn’t help but be apologetic about how long it took you to decide what you wanted when Sam made a choice less than 30 seconds after glancing at his options. He wasn’t like previous partners or friends who got frustrated with your struggle to make decisions for yourself or your memory issues on occasion. He waited by your side, thumb brushing over the top of your hand as he asked the employees how their morning was going.
Today was no different than previous trips to Snookums, however you knew that the two of you would have to hurry home to meet one of Sam’s friends who was dropping off seedlings for his garden. The smell of warm baked goods filled your lungs and brought a sense of calm to your busy mind as you stepped into the bakery and immediately took in your muffin options.
Chocolate chip hazelnut, blueberry crumb, banana nut, and triple chocolate.
Greeting the two employees with a smile and a quick hello, you mulled over your decision and felt Sam come to stand slightly behind you, wrapping an arm around your lower back as he hummed softly.
“What can I grab for you, Sam?” one of the regular Friday morning workers, Jenna, asked, knowing that Sam always made his mind up rather quickly.
“Hmmmm….” After another look at the glass case, Sam’s gaze turned to you. “You know what, Jenna, I’m going to let my girl pick hers out first today.”
It was hard not to crack a smile in response to the goofy grin he gave you, silently encouraging you. You had to make a decision, and fast.
“I’ll have a hazelnut chocolate chip, please.” Smiling at Jenna and thanking her as she put your muffin in a light pink box, you turn to Sam.
“I’ve never tried that one before but it sounds good, right?” You say quietly, leaning into his side.
“Sounds delicious, actually!” He responds, giving you a quick peck on the forehead before ordering a banana nut muffin for himself.
“Ooo banana nut, one of my favorites!” You say to him as the two of you follow Jenna down the counter to the register. Sam responded with a sweet smile and squeeze of your hand before letting go to grab his wallet from his back pocket.
On the walk home, it didn’t take long for you to reach into the small box containing your treats and pull a small piece of your muffin from the side of the rounded top. The excitement of trying something new quickly faded the more you chewed and realized that the flavor wasn’t exactly what you expected. With a hum, you close the box and continue walking, though you can feel Sam studying your face without being too obvious.
“Was it good, lovey?” He said finally, reaching to take the box from your hand and cradle it in one of his own arms.
“Um,” you started, trying not to sound too disappointed, “it was okay! Everything they make is good, so…” You let your voice trail off and the sight of your shared home came into view.
Walking up the few steps to the front door, you began mentally going through what ingredients you had to possibly make your own muffins to make up for the one that wasn’t quite your taste.
Once inside, you began looking through your cabinets for the typical baking essentials, feeling Sam lean up against the counter next to you a moment later.
“Can I tell you a secret?” He said, quickly looking around jokingly to make sure no one else would hear his confession, though it was just the two of you in your home.
Onto his antics, you giggle and decide to play along, turning your head to face your ear towards him and leaning in close. He bent slightly and leaned in so close that you could feel his lips ghost over the shell of your ear.
“You tried the hazelnut chocolate chip muffin a few weeks ago and didn’t like it,” he whispered. You turn your head to look at him, eyes wide with the realization that you had, in fact, tried that flavor at the end of last month. It was all coming back to you.
“I finished it for you and found it quite delicious, so when you picked that one again I knew we needed a backup!” He grabbed the pink box from its resting place on the counter and opened it, taking the untouched banana nut muffin out and placing it on a small plate he had set out. Sliding it towards you, he reached his hand out to squeeze your shoulder lightly.
“Now…what are we thinking drink-wise? Coffee? Milk? Tea?” He moved around you to open the fridge, peering at any other potential options.
“I love you.” You said, turning to face him as he stands in front of the open fridge, already grinning when he meets your gaze.
“Oh yeah? Well I love you more, lovey.” He lets the refrigerator door swing shut quietly as he reaches out to pull you close to his chest, moving his palm in circular motions between your shoulder blades.
“As much as I would love to hold you all day, we do need to decide on what to drink with our breakfast so we can take this party outside and enjoy the sun a little before the day really starts!”
You let your head fall back, “umm okay, let me think for a minute…”
“Take all the time you need.”
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wave6orca · 16 days
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baked grace
cw: nothing but fluff, maybe a little angst if you squint
sum: slightly avoiding home, you're baking with peeta and rye.
pair: peeta mellark + victor!reader
a/n: baking lemon glazed loaf with peet and rye ughh he’s just so..they’re both so…sue me.
your hands ran through his hair and puffs of flour chalked his golden locks, which he shook out almost immediately. peeta’s hands worked on the half-kneaded dough you prepared the night before. it rose perfectly as the two of you slept and held each other the entire night, leaving little warmth to imagination. “is rye almost here?” he asks you.
usually, when you or his older brother, rye, knead dough, it’s not without grunts of strength, but peeta’s strong arms and capable hands never failed to transport wheat sacks.
“he should be here any minute! i did say six, didn’t i?” you look towards the door and following your words, rye bursts through the doors holding a small bag smeared in white powder from no covering and a pitcher of clear water. “don’t underestimate me, sweetheart,” the older mellark speaks as he sets away the ingredients.
his job was to glaze the soon-to-be-baked bread; the loaf was to be lemon-y and you picked a handful of lemons to make sure the flavor dug in through the abundance of wheat. two fruits were left over for rye to flavor the sugary topping with zest. you smirk and hop on the other counter, away from the subtle white clouds and your loving boyfriend.
he glanced at you briefly as you just watched him, rye occasionally moving between the two of you. “what?” he asks with a smile, “wanna come help?”
“nah, you do it well. i’m here if you need a support kiss, though,” you say, bringing a blush to his cheeks. he curved the dough evenly and sets it down in the spread of flour before walking over to you and bringing his lips to yours. peeta’s lips raise and before you could pull away, he places his messy hands on each side of your head, getting flour on your temples and into your hair.
your mouth drops agape, but you didn’t resist the smile of disbelief. “contamination,” he whispers to you, giving another small kiss, but on your cheek. you scoffed, “since when did district twelve care about contamination?”
his strong arms carried you off the countertop and your shoes met the floor; it didn’t bother you to help, but you didn’t have as much experience as the baker’s sons. peeta followed behind you as your stepped to the sink and ran the water along your hands, using the small lye-derived soap bar along your palms. peeta guided you over to the main counter and nodded towards the dough, waiting for your actions. it’s not that you didn’t know what to do, but you just didn’t want to mess up. a few kneading motions later, peeta wiped his hands and grabbed a loaf pan.
you transferred the dough and set it in the oven, which had been given a new batch of coals early in the morning, and shrugged humbly as peeta gave slow claps at the simple task.
“scoot,” rye mumbles as he pushes past the two of you with the bag he held before and two plump lemons. his hands were fresh from a wash and so were the fruits; you handed him a knife to split them and he squeezed them with his other hand underneath to catch seeds, all over a ready bowl. rye uses a large spoon to scoop the powdered sugar into the bowl.
“peeta, the whisk?” he requests in a sharper tone, but he gets it in his hand quick. you shoot the younger brother raised brows with a small smile. rye was particular about glazes and his dark eyes reflected that concentration.
as he whisked, rye tutted down and added more of the sugar. you enjoyed smaller moments like this. being with peeta and not needing a declaration of love to show you that he loves when you’re around and with his family.
yours resided in victor’s village where you wanted them away from questions about the games and capitol by any means. it’s been almost four years since your “victory” and the only people to bring it up since were rye and peeta, but with your consent.
the older mellark only ever expressed curiosity and sympathies when peeta was away and you needed objective advice on how to deal. you couldn’t with peeta, he was always on your side. you’ve come to terms with your actions and you did earn respect throughout the district and districts alike for such.
peeta’s hand brushed yours, “thinking?” he asked. you shook your head and gave a brief flash of teeth. you would save slices of the zesty loaf for your family, but the village was safer and they got comfortable quick. you? you couldn’t not come back. the smell of fresh bread and the comfort of your lover was more than enough to draw you back and make you stay nights in his bed.
“rye, you close to done?” you tapped him and he turned his head and nodded, “mhm.”
the taller brunet soon turned completely and held the bowl close to him and tapped the whisk against the rim. he held the bowl close to you and the whisk to you lips, letting you lick the sweetness off of it before he set it away in the sink. “mmm,” you nodded and smiled, satisfied with his creation. your eyes lit up and peeta moved his hand to your waist from behind, “let me know when you’re done, yeah?” he spoke sarcastically.
rye rolled his eyes. the three of you spent time cleaning up around the kitchen and restocking whatever was delivered at the door. once the loaf finished baking, peeta gathered his oven mitts and took it out, setting it down on the counter to cool. “gonna be good,” he says.
you smell the steam from the bread, a faint lemon scent with a wave of warmth approaching your face. before the loaf could cool completely, it was taken out the pan and set in a cutting board. rye dripped the glaze along the top, tilting the additive to the sides for extra flavor.
rye steps back and discards the materials into the sink, “so..middle piece?” “is mine,” peeta says, leaning on the counter. you already had a knife out and set next to the dessert.
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blushstories · 2 years
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please may u write a drabble with Steve and a reader who has relapsed into an eating disorder but she tries to hide it? w lots of hurt/comfort and fluff at the end? life is difficult atm and idk I just need a hug from Steve real bad :') it's okay if not though!!!
hi lovely!! yes of course, all the hugs to you <3 I tried to be a little vague so as to be sensitive to the subject, so I really hope this is alright. please tell me if ive made a mistake and ill change it <3 cw: disordered eating
“Hey sweetness,” Steve drops some papers onto the coffee table, hair slightly tousled. He shrugs off his brown leather jacket and slings it over the back of the sofa. 
You smile as he reaches your place on the sofa, his hand cupping your jaw and raising your face. He plants a kiss to your forehead before moving into the kitchen, his footsteps slow and tired. Envelopes flutter onto the island as he leafs through the mail you’ve left for him. You know where he’s going next. 
Thick ropes of worry begin to coil in your chest as you ask, “Good day?” The last envelope falls. 
“I guess,” he says. Footsteps again. “No missions coming up, but I gotta get Tony to lay off of Wanda—“ the fridge door opens and he stops talking, interrupting himself. Half empty jars clatter against it as the door hangs open. He calls your name, but you already know what he’s going to say. 
“There isn’t much in here,” he says, matter-of-factly. You know. The soured leftovers from last week, three lemons and a packet of sliced cheese decorate the inside of the appliance, and you feel a sudden anxiety warped guilt settle into the lining of your stomach.
 Maybe you should’ve nipped out to get some groceries or snacks for him, but you’re sitting on a see-saw of ignoring food’s existence, and scrutinising everything about it; going to the store would only tip the see-saw the other way. 
Steve’s been speaking for a few seconds now, and you’ve missed all of it. The fridge door shuts and he calls your name again. You twist on the sofa as he leans around the corner, eyes slightly narrowed. 
“What’d you have today?” There’s no malice in his tone, nothing to set you on edge the way it does, your fist twisting in the fabric of the cushions. He’s curious, if anything, but you haven’t thought this far ahead. 
“I went out for lunch,” you say, not quite meeting his eyes. He nods, eyes cast to the floor, spins about forty five degrees on his heel before something clicks in his head and he turns back. 
“What’d you get?” He asks, a hint of concern disguised by gentle curiosity. You stumble over your words at first, relief at his exit extinguished instantly, something about a salad automatically falls from your lips. He frowns, approaching the sofa gingerly. You look away, heat heavy behind your eyes because this is in your past, isn’t it? You both know that.
He places both hands on the back of it, leaning slightly over you. You can’t read the expression on his face, and the silence is painful, creeping up your arms and burrowing into your skin. His eyes are sincere, searching both of yours, as if he may find his answer somewhere in them. 
“You okay?” His voice is soft, genuine, no sign of anything other than love. You nod with a forced smile, a safe response. “Can you look me in the eye and say it?” 
He can see straight through you, knows it was a little mean to press, but he cares too much about you to let it go when you can’t comply. He rounds the sofa and you scoot over to give him some space, the silence heavy around you both. He rests an arm over the back of the sofa, inviting you to lean against him. 
You do, but you’re stiff. When his hand falls onto your shoulder, he knows, and tugs you further into his side. His cheek meets the top of your head as he tries to navigate the emotions in his heart. 
“Sweet girl,” he says finally, with an extra squeeze. “You don’t deserve this.” 
You wring your hands together in your lap, not having anything to say that doesn’t feel… artificial. 
“I…” he holds in a sigh, not wanting to sound disappointed. He’s far from it, in fact. “I want to help.” “I know,” you say quietly.  “Let me,” he says, more of a suggestion than a statement: he doesn’t want you to feel cornered or pressured. “Doing this alone, it’s, it’s terrible.” “Steve—“ “All I want is for you to be happy. God knows with my job it’s hard to be.”
He slips his arm under yours, tucking you further into his side as it rests along your side. You smile at your hands.
“It’s not as hard as you think when Tony doesn’t shut up about you,” you say. Steve chortles, then sits a little straighter, as if he only registers your words then. 
“What does he say?” 
“Oh, you know: Rogers just took down five men with one throw of his giant frisbee. Rogers needs to stop being such a smartass because it’s making me look bad in front of the others. Usual Stark stuff.”  Steve chortles, and there’s a light silence. He lightly clears his throat. 
“Will you help me?” He asks.  “With what?” 
“Help me to help you,” he clarifies. “I want you to be happy and healthy, and Wanda tells me that Vision is actually a good cook, despite the, uh, novelty of it. He could teach me some tricks.” He struggles to end his sentence as well as he’d like, but hopes he’s got his point across. You contemplate his suggestion, and then look up; he's watching you carefully, but kindly. Another squeeze of his arms as he realises that you're thinking.
And finally, “I can try,” you say, and his hand squeezes yours. 
“That’s all I ask, sweetheart.”
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aziraphales-library · 2 years
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Hello! I really like fics where Crowley and/or aziraphale have a kid at some point in history. I only know of two fics like this. The Melanie Crowley cinematic universe and the fic where Ariadne is their kid. Do you know of any more? Also please no plot points revolving god; I can’t take the deus ex machina! Thank you so much! Fics by morgaine2005 and malaisgeres
You should check out our plentiful #kid fic tag, and in particular our #original children of aziraphale and crowley tag for lots of fics like this. I have some more now, though some do involve God; we’ve recommended quite a few now so I’m attempting to not just rec the same fics over and over. Take ‘em or leave ‘em...
A Demon’s Daughter and His Angel by Campdpi (T)
Based off of the story by the awesome and wonderful Sherlock_holmes_whovian_for_David called When Crowley said he was asleep for a century he lied (or how Aziraphale realised angels can get jealous) . With the authors permission, I started this story.
This takes place after the events of the story it’s based on. Aziraphale and Crowley’s daughter Sam get to know each other. It’s my very first fan fic, and hasn’t been betad so hopefully it turns out okay!
Part 1 of A Demon, His Angel and His Daughter series
Middle Ground by paperviolins (E)
God placed a hand on Crowley’s shoulder, “we don’t have the time for me to explain fully, I am sorry. I am giving humanity a gift and I want you to deliver it, but it is not only a gift to humanity. It is also a gift to you. Think of it as a sort of apology for all I have burdened you with,” She smiled and squeezed his shoulder lightly before letting go, “stick strong to your beliefs, Crowley. Believe in yourself, and Aziraphale, and humanity. Protect what you think is right and stand firm in your ground. It will be a rough road, but I have Faith in you.”
God looked back up at the stars and took a deep breath.
“Beyond all else, keep creating beauty in this universe.”
Ineffable adoption by orphan_account (T)
"Angel, what´s going on?" Well, that was actually a really good question. If he was being honest, Aziraphale had no idea. He looked up. "I think I´ve just accidentally adopted a child."
our dove, our perfect one by blackeyedblonde (E)
“Well, it wasn’t last week, it was twenty sodding years ago,” Crowley says, reaching again for his coffee mug, miraculously piping hot and topped off with a quickness. “What’s gotten into you all of a sudden about kids? This is—weird.” He flaps his free hand through the air and makes an odd face. “Uncharacteristic, really. Can you do exorcisms on angels? I may need to make a few calls.”
Aziraphale draws in a steadying breath and then lets it back out again. His shoulders drop, his feet are firmly planted flat on the floor in his slippers. He folds the crossword section in half with a perfect crease and looks up at Crowley sitting across from him.
“I think I’d like to have a baby,” the angel says.
Part 1 of Dove Verse series
When Life Gives You Lemons by KaytheJay (T)
Everything is great. Aziraphale and Crowley are adjusting to their new life after the-end-that didn't. What they don't expect is their sixteen year old daughter getting pregnant.
The Birds and the Bees for Ineffable Idiots by DarkAngel2891 (T)
Crowley doesn't know how reproduction works. Aziraphale is at a loss for words. Whatever the two where expecting it wasn't this. God ships Crowley and Aziraphale.
And the two you mentioned...
A Glittering Instrument by malicegeres (T)
"Look at Satan. Created an angel, grows up to be the Great Adversary. Hey, if you're going to go on about genetics, you might as well say the kid will grow up to be an angel... No. Upbringing is everything. Take it from me." Crowley has a daughter, and through the centuries she makes him and Aziraphale question everything about themselves, each other, and their place in the world.
Part 1 of The Melanie Crowley Cinematic Universe series
Take Me Home by morgaine2005 (T)
Once upon a time, an angel and a demon came together for one night only. They created something new - and quickly hid that something away, because if either of their Sides found that something, the consequences were unthinkable.
Once upon a time, a wine god found a girl crying on a beach. She had a strange tale, a strange pair of wings, and a strange set of powers. He offered her his hand, and she took it and never looked back.
Once upon a time, an angel and a demon sat in the Ritz, toasting the world they'd just saved and their future within it. The angel looked up and saw something he thought he'd hidden away a long, long time ago.
This is a story about beginnings. About endings. About hope and choices. About finding your family and finding yourself along the way.
But mostly, it's a story about love.
Part 1 of Take Me Home and Related Tales series
- Mod D
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rapidovencleaning · 1 year
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Oven Cleaning Sydney Techniques for Stoves
It’s quite commonplace information that cleaning the oven is one of the most hated household chores. But, nevertheless oven cleansing is a have to. So when you have invested in a Stoves oven, you may want to recognize the perfect strategies for cleaning. A grimy Stoves oven now not most effective appears unappealing however can growth the hazard of a hearth and cause your oven to be inefficient.
Deep oven cleansing doesn’t constantly need chemical substances, there are many exclusive herbal cleansing strategies which may be used in your Stoves oven. Below we've indexed a number of our favorite Stoves oven cleaning techniques for a sparkling easy end.
Small or compact cutting-edge kitchen with appliances. Contemporary fashion. Sparse design. White cabinets. Example of design for small architectural areas. Front view, horizontal composition. Kitchen historical past.
Stove Electric Oven Cleaning with White Vinegar and Steam
Using steam and white vinegar to easy the internal of your oven is chemical-unfastened and does plenty of the hard be just right for you – bonus!
·        To begin the steam smooth, first put off the oven racks, but depart one in vicinity, inside the middle of the oven.
·        Get a oven safe dish or bowl, halve packed with water and 1/2 with white vinegar.
·        Turn your electric oven onto a high placing and place the bowl at the middle rack.
·        Leave the steam to work its magic for 30-forty mins.
·        After the time has surpassed, flip the oven off and allow to chill.
·        Once cold, open the oven door and wipe the interior of the oven with a damp cloth. The dirt ought to soften away and make the project a great deal simpler.
Lemons and Water Bake Cleaning
This cleansing method is much like the above with uses lemons instead of white vinegar for a sparkling natural scent. All you want is two lemons and some hot water.
·        Fill an oven-evidence pan with warm water and squeeze within the juice of lemons.
·        Once all squeezed, upload the closing lemon to the pan.
·        Pop the pan within the oven, turn the heat on complete, near the door and allow enough time for the water to boil. The combination will smash down the grease and dust ready for cleaning.
·        Turn off the oven and allow the oven to settle down before using a humid cloth to wipe away all of the filth. Not only will the grease come off an awful lot less difficult, the kitchen will have a sparkling citrus scent from the lemons.
Clean Stove Racks in the Bathroom!
The size of oven racks can on occasion cause them to hard to smooth inside the kitchen sink. However there is some other alternative – the bathtub tub!
·        Before you begin, line the bathtub bathtub with old towels to prevent it from being scratched.
·        Fill the bathtub with hot water and a few drops of washing up liquid or a dishwasher tab.
·        Once pleasant and bubbly, submerge the oven racks below the water and permit them to soak for multiple hours.
·        Once soaked, supply them a great scrub the usage of a heavy-responsibility scrubber. Top tip: Get within the nooks and crannies through using an antique toothbrush!
·        Give the racks a rinse, dry and pop them lower back in the oven.
Professional Stoves Oven Clean
Sydney oven cleaning services can be a certainly dirty and difficult task, specifically if it hasn’t been cleaned in some time. It can every so often take hours to cast off all that nasty grease and grime. But, don’t worry, we understand how frustrating of a task it can be, that is why we assume it’s constantly quality to depart this task to the experts. Sit lower back and loosen up at the same time as we remodel your oven! All of our products are made the use of no-brought caustic answers which means they may be safe to use round youngsters and pets. Contact us nowadays for a FREE oven cleaning quote.
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rubys-kitchen · 2 years
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Sour Cream and Onion Chicken
Chef’s Note: Damn this is tasty! And I am enjoying it, which is a hell of an achievement because I don’t normally like eating chicken. Baking makes a crunchy crust with juicy inside, even though it didn’t brown (you probably need butter in the breadcrumbs for that). I recommend serving with mashed potatoes
Original recipe link
Ingredients
2 boneless skinless chicken breasts, halved horizontally OR 4 chicken cutlets
Kosher salt
1/2 cup sour cream or Greek yogurt
1/4 cup thinly sliced chives, plus more for serving
1 tbsp + 1/2 tbsp onion powder
1 cup panko bread crumbs
if frying, Canola oil
(opt.) 1 lemon, cut into wedges
Instructions
0. If you are using chicken breasts, halve them horizontally so you have 4 thinner slices of chicken
Supposedly, freezing the chicken breasts for 15 minutes to firm them up will make slicing them through the middle easier. I just went straight for it though
1. Pat chicken dry. Season both sides with salt
2. In a medium bowl, stir together the sour cream, chives, and 1 tbsp onion powder.
3. Add the chicken sour cream mix and turn to coat. Let marinate in the fridge for a few hours
Chicken can sit in the marinade for up to 8 hours
When I did this, I only had 90 minutes to marinate
4. In a shallow bowl or lipped plate, stir together the bread crumbs and 1/2 tbsp onion powder. Season with salt
5. Working one at a time, press the chicken breasts into the panko, using your fingers to pack the panko onto both sides of the chicken. Place breaded chicken on a large plate or a sheet pan.
Now choose how you want to cook: Fry or Bake
6. FRY:
Line a plate with paper towels.
Heat 1/8-inch canola oil in a large skillet over medium heat. (Drop a piece of panko in: If it sizzles, the oil’s ready.)
Add a chicken cutlet (or two, if they can fit comfortably), and cook until golden brown, 3 to 5 minutes per side.
Transfer to the paper towel-lined plate.
Repeat with remaining chicken, adding and heating more oil as needed, and removing excess panko from the pan with a slotted spoon.
6. BAKE:
Preheat oven to 400°F
Spray the tops of chicken lightly with oil of choice
Place on an aluminum foil-lined baking sheet
Bake for 20 to 25 minutes, flipping halfway through (I only did 20. Maybe max should be 30?)
7. Serve chicken with more chives and optional lemon wedges for squeezing.
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dish2remember · 2 years
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Borage and Ricotta Dumplings
Used chard instead of borage and brown butter/lemon instead of the stock.
Borage and ricotta dumplings:
1/2 cup minced shallots
1/4 cup extra virgin olive oil, plus more as needed
Kosher salt
2 pounds borage leaves, washed, dried, and coarsely chopped
3 1/2 pounds fresh ricotta cheese, homemade or store-bought (see Note)
1 1/2 cups finely grated Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese
1 cup “00” flour
15 twists freshly ground black pepper
10 grates nutmeg
1 large whole egg
1 large egg yolk
Semolina flour, for dusting
Mushroom broth:
1 1/2 cups Mushroom Stock
kosher salt
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
To serve:
Kosher salt
Extra virgin olive oil
Borage flowers, to garnish
Method
Make the Borage and Ricotta Dumplings: In a large pot, combine the shallots, olive oil, and a pinch of salt and cook over medium heat, stirring, until the shallots are translucent, 3 to 5 minutes.
Add the borage, season with salt, and cook until all of the natural liquid cooks out, about 30 minutes. Transfer the borage to a baking sheet to cool. Once cooled, squeeze out as much of the liquid as possible and discard it. Transfer the drained borage to a cutting board and chop it very finely. Taste the borage, season it with more salt if needed, then wrap it in cheesecloth. Squeeze out any remaining juice and leave the borage in a sieve set over a bowl to drain overnight in the refrigerator.
Meanwhile, also make the ricotta as directed and drain overnight.
Set the drained ricotta in a large bowl. Add the Parmigiano, “00” flour, a scant 2 tablespoons kosher salt, the black pepper, and nutmeg. Mix well to combine, then add the borage leaves. Gently whisk the whole egg and egg yolk with a fork and add them to the ricotta and borage. Use your hands to thoroughly mix the dough. The result should be like a pasta dough—the dough should not be sticking to your hands. If it is too dry, add a small amount of water; if it is too wet, add more flour.
Shape the dough into a ball and place it in a lightly oiled bowl with a piece of plastic wrap gently pressed over the top of the dough—you don’t want the dough to dry out. Refrigerate and let the dough rest for at least 2 hours.
Remove the dough from the refrigerator and place it on a work surface. Divide the dough into 6 pieces. Work with one piece at a time, keeping the other pieces covered with plastic wrap while you work. Lightly dust the work surface with semolina flour, then using your hands, roll the dough into a long log, just under 1 inch in diameter. If you have the space, repeat until all of the dough pieces have been formed into long logs.
Cut the logs crosswise into 11/2-inch dumplings and set them onto semolina-dusted baking sheets. Refrigerate, uncovered, for at least 1 hour and up to 24 hours.
Make the Mushroom Broth: In a saucepot, warm the stock over medium heat until hot. Season the stock to taste with salt and set aside until serving. Just before serving, rewarm the stock and whisk in the butter until incorporated.
To serve: Bring a large pot of water to a lively simmer and season it with enough salt for it to taste seasoned.
Cook the dumplings in the simmering water until they float to the surface, 2 to 3 minutes. Using a sieve, fish the dumplings out of the broth, making sure to drain all the water before you plate them. Divide the dumplings across bowls and then ladle the mushroom broth over them. Finish with a few drops of olive oil and some borage flowers.
NOTE: You’ll need to prepare the borage leaves and drain the ricotta the day before you make the dumplings. If you can’t find borage, any bright green—kale, nettles, spinach—will do.
If you’re making the fresh ricotta  for this recipe, you will need to make three times the batch size, but you will have a good amount of ricotta left over. If you’re using store-bought ricotta, you will still need to drain it overnight.
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transparenttskinn · 2 years
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My personal safe foods:
1. mini (persian) cucumbers!! i put this on my page today :) i usually cut up 3-4 cucumbers (5-7 if i’m really hungry) and i put them into a bowl and squeeze a whole lemon (half if u rlly need but it’s just for flavor it’s better as a whole) and a few drops of olive oil and then as much salt as you want then mix it really well and it tastes really really good and works as a meal for me always! super low cal
2. rice cakes!!!!!! omg amazing bread replacement and each one is around 25 calories - i usually eat two and top it with peanut butter and sometimes honey if you want to satisfy your sweet tooth but it will add more calories. super good and insanely filling.
3. mandarins, so good 47 caps each (rough estimate from google) i usually eat one as a snack or just when i feel hungry it’s easy and good.
4. grapes, frozen or regularly - they’re low cal and they taste like candy it’s a great snack
5. popcorn, pretty self explanatory i prefer the brand skinny pop it’s good and it’s in the name
6. venti passiontea lemonade with strawberry puree from starbucks - i can’t explain why but it’s caffeine free, fairly low cal for how big of a drink it is (if ur worried get a grande) and it fills me up and hydrates me extremely well. if you like caffeine a peach green tea lemonade works super well and low cal as well <3
7. a whole apple, 100 calories. don’t underestimate them they are really good and filling either green or red and if it doesn’t completely fill you add some peanut butter as a dip :)
8. ice chips, it helps the oral fixation and the habit of eating when you’re bored. having really nice ice with water too u can definitely eat them while u drink and it’s satisfying for me at least.
9. string cheese low cal version, good and takes longer to finish due to u having to grab the pieces which helps you eat slower - 1 piece is around 50 i believe
10. grapefruit - it combats hunger and is actually good for weight loss aside from it being super good
11. a ham and swiss sandwich is really helpful for me it fills me up super well and it’s healthy.
12. ramen / cup noodles. around 150-220ish calories and it’s safe and good for me compared to most other foods!
let me know if this was helpful and i can make more ❤️
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i want dick grayson to be annoyingly perfect in the smallest of unimportant ways. and i want it to irritate the living hell out of everyone around him
every now and then, jason and dick will go to different chili dog carts around the city, and dick will sit and nod in agreement as jason nitpicks the food, occasionally offering his own two cents. the conversations are tense and if the topic strays from anything except food jason books it, but it’s progress, and dick’s grateful. but he doesn’t understand why jason always growls at him when he’s preparing his chili dogs, chalking it up to jason’s obsessiveness about that food in particular. dick figures he’s probably doing it wrong. until one day, jason bites out a rough question, asks him how he did that. dick’s confused, until jason points out, “you tear open the top of the ketchup packet in a perfect line every time. and you get all of the ketchup out of the packet in one smooth squeeze, and you never get any on your fingers, and i don’t understand how.”
roy was, arguably, a better archer than ollie. green arrow had been birthed from the island, from the trauma of survival. roy, however, had been practicing since he was a kid, and now that he was well into his twenties, he could safely say he was one of the best shots in the world. he could beat all his friends at darts, shoot an apple off wally’s head, and was generally pretty awesome. or, he would be awesome, if only dick fucking grayson would stop making every single shot of anything he threw in a trash can. no matter what he was throwing away, no matter the angle, no matter the wind or rain, as long as the trashcan was in eyesight, anything dick tossed would inevitably end up inside the garbage. sometimes, dick barely even glanced at the damn thing, just took note of it a threw the trash, expecting it to land in the proper place. and it always did. the worst part was, dick didn’t even seem to notice it. he wasn’t actively trying to make every shot. when asked, dick just shrugged and said “we had some pretty good knife throwers in the circus.”
tim’s memories starting out as robin were a whirlwind, a push-pull of bruce’s mistrust, then bruce’s acceptance, of dick’s fear and hesitation, then of dick’s love. he still remembered dick making the two of them hot chocolate in the kitchen after a day of training, tim’s muscles sore and entire body aching but the feeling of pride, because he was good enough to be robin, he knew he was. he hadn’t expected that to happen anytime soon again, given the way their relationship had fractured after tim had left dick’s batman, a terrified fury in his eyes. yet, he’d been proven wrong when, after a particularly rough arkham breakout, alfred asked both dick and tim to stay instead of returning to their own apartments. just because the manor brought back a feeling of warm nostalgia, however, doesn’t mean it kept the nightmares away. he came down to the kitchen and saw dick already up, moving around the stovetop. with a knowing look in his eyes, dick grabbed another mug to make tim some hot chocolate. tim was washed over with a feeling of relief, of acceptance. dick slid the mug towards him and tim took a sip, letting the rich chocolate warm him up from the inside. it was delicious. his little sigh of pleasure must have been audible, but then he remembered something he noticed. “dick. did you use alfred’s recipe for this?” and dick laughed, responded with, “nah. too much work. i just sort of tried to remember what was in hot chocolate, and eyeballed most of the ingredients. i’m glad it turned out good though. no clumps too, that’s good.”
donna didn’t care how old she got, playing in the park with dick never got old. as one of her oldest friends, the two of them could just walk around the park, in companionable silence, just letting themselves relax and enjoy the moment. so, of course, dick would break the silence and ask if she had any earbuds, because it was getting to quiet for him. donna laughed, and reached inside her pocket, fingered past the keys, and grabbed the headphones. the tangled little ball that came out made her sigh, and she pulled on an earbud to loosen it, only managing to make one of the many knots tighter. then, dick took the headphones out of her hands with a here, i got it, and with a few quick tugs, the tangled monstrosity unraveled easy as breathing. then, completely unaffected, he handed her an earbud, putting the other in his own ear. “i’m the one who’s got a lasso,” she said, ignoring dick’s snort and quip about how earbuds and a lasso are two completely different things, donna.
cass hadn’t expected to enjoy such a gentle, graceful form of athletics, but after a few lessons, it had become apparent that ballet could be far from gentle. it pushed her, made her practice and strengthen herself, and she’d fallen in love with the art quickly. however, the most frustrating part of the entire thing had little to do with actually dancing. the school bruce had helped pick out was prestigious, which meant a strict dress code, which meant her hair had to be in a bun. unfortunately, her hair never seemed to want to cooperate. after her latest attempt, falling into a mess of hair at her nape that had so many locks falling out, cass contemplated how mad the teacher would be if she showed up in a ponytail. at that moment, dick peeked into her room, having heard her frustrated noise, and asked if he could do anything to help. cass pointed to the mess of hair, not even remotely contained by the hair tie, and blew a strand out of her face. dick smiled with understanding, then came into her room, grabbing the comb on her bed and standing behind her in front of the mirror. he smoothed her hair with the comb, then pulled it this way and that, twisting and turning and wrapping until, two minutes later, a picture perfect bun sat atop her head. cass blinked with surprise. “first try,” she said, staring up at him, but he just shrugged and said, “it’s not that hard. you want me to drop you off?”
bruce could admit that he rather enjoyed undercover missions. it was an extended game with high stakes, a test of his own acting skills. with makeup changing his face, an expertly made wig, and a demeanor completely different from both brucie wayne and from batman, he swept through the crowd of greasy men, looking for a specific contact. then, he caught sight of someone specific indeed, though they weren’t his contact. eyebrows raised in a what are you doing here? gesture, he slid onto a barstool. from behind the bar, dick offered him a blinding smile, cleaning a glass. he tapped his wrist twice, a clear message. undercover, same as you. then, dick grabbed a couple bottles from underneath a shelf, flipping them in his hand and pouring with grandeur. bruce noticed he hadn’t put any alcohol in his little mixture, only making it seem as if he had. the flashy moves were entertaining, bruce could give him that. dick slid him the drink and bruce took a sip, eyebrows raising in brief surprise. “this is good. bartending?” dick put the bottles and the lemon away, unimpressed. “it’s not like it’s hard. just mixing a couple ingredients. no biggie.” bruce was fairly certain bartending was more difficult than that, but just then, his target came into view. 
steph understood some of the bats’ frustration with dick, she really could. he hadn’t exactly been a welcome and opening batman, that’s for sure. regardless, as the few masks left in gotham had to work together, and she’d gotten to know the man pretty well. and she enjoyed his company as nightwing much more than batman. she dropped onto his balcony in his bludhaven apartment, announcing her presence in that loud-subtle way. dick was nestled in a couple blankets on the couch, going over a couple files, apparently just back from patrol if the small bandage on his neck and bags under his eyes were any indication. nevertheless, he brightened when he saw her and she nodded when he asked if she wanted to spend the night. he moved some of the papers to make room for her on the couch, but she flitted into his bathroom, going through the nail polish bottles she knew he had, and grabbing a shade of red that caught her eye. she tossed him the bottle and put her fingers in his lap, talking aimlessly about a movie she watched with cass. dick seemed to relax amidst her jabbering, and he shook the bottle a couple times before opening it and focusing on her right hand. but as he started, steph paused her rambling and focused on him instead, holding her hands gently and brushing paint onto her nails. he managed to cover her entire nail in three easy strokes, smooth and glossy, not a hint of paint on her skin. the nail was practically perfect. oh god she was jealous. “got a lot of practice with this, grayson?” she asked, and laughed at dick’s mock-offended of course not!
damian wasn’t one for photography, and he could grudgingly admit drake was far better at that particular skill than he was. however, his art class had promised to cover all types of media, and had upheld that pledge. the next two weeks were dedicated to photography, and their final project for the unit had to be a small collection of photographs. animal photography, of course, was damian’s chosen subject, and the knowledge that animal photography was one of the hardest skills to master only had damian wanting to do it more. days later, however, he could admit that it was trickier than expected. how had he never noticed how active his animals were? they never sat still, and every single picture came out blurry. grayson, upon coming across him in the manor grounds, noticed his futile attempts and asked if he could help. damian acquiesced the camera to grayson, who looked through the lens, finding the right angle and background, adjusting the focus settings slightly. then, he let out a sharp whistle and snapped his fingers. in nothing short of a miracle, damian’s pets pasued to look at him, only for a second, and the shutter clicked furiously. damian flipped through the photos, a good many of them clear and wonderful. damian snapped in irritation when dick ruffled his hair and said, “now you try!” it definitely wasn’t as easy as grayson made it look.
babs didn’t really know what she was expecting when she broke up with dick. there was hurt on both ends, and distance for a while, and she had no idea how much she’d miss him. but after a couple months of working together, of remembering that underneath the romantic tangles, their friendship was strong, she’d gotten to the point of dick randomly dropping by her apartment again. the downside was, dick kept randomly dropping by her apartment again. he stole her snacks and messed up her filing system and was so irritating that barbara almost forgot how relieved she was at having one of her best friends back. fortunately, it did come with benefits, because when he was bored, he did some of her chores for her. pausing in the doorway, she smiled at the sight of dick folding her clothes and putting them away. the gesture was platonic now, but no less appreciated. she pushed her wheelchair forward, and in greeting, dick told her how much he wanted to steal all her patterned socks. babs reminded him they wouldn’t fit, and laughed at his pout. dick grabbed one sock off the top of the laundry basket, then dug his hand into the pile of clothes randomly, coming up with the second sock in an instant. folding them together, he repeated the process for each pair. “that...that was fast. you got all of them?” babs asked in confusion. “yes? why, did you expect some to be missing?” was dick’s reply as he shook the wrinkles out of a sweater.
wally was never surprised. he knew dick better than probably most people in the world. he’d gone from frustrated and jealous of dick’s random talents, to admiring and appreciative, to just accepting them as a fact of life. dick’s phone never cracked if he accidentally he dropped it. dick never buttoned up shirts wrong, aligning each button with the right hole perfectly on the first try. dick could plug in usb ports the right way. dick always remembered which light switch was for which room, no matter whose house they were at. dick could pop a cd out of its case without ever smudging the disk, holding it by the rim perfectly. and dick always seemed to know when wally needed a day off, to just visit their old haunts, grab some ice cream, and spend the day talking away on a rooftop. that was just something his best friend could do. and wally would never tell dick, but underneath his fake irritation at it, but he loved him for it.
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The birth of Lavender Styles
Summary: Y/n gives birth to their new baby girl 
warnings/ disclaimers: child birth, breast feeding, disclaimer (ages) 
Y/n had noticed her contractions about two hours ago, she was sitting with Forest, playing with his ABC blocks when she noticed it. It was familiar- at least familiar to her two other pregnancies. She wasn't scared, she was calm, she just looked over toward Harry and gave him a small nod. She had already done this twice before, going through a particularly rough birth with her first one so she felt like there was nothing she couldn't do at this point- childbirth wise. 
That look was all Harry needed to be well clingy. Ever since he had gotten that look he's been by her side. Her contractions were only lasting around 60 seconds and about 15 minutes apart, but Harry still held her through every single one and praised her for carrying yet another child of theirs, praising her body for being able to grow such beautiful babies. Violet and Forest were a little confused (and scared) as to why their mumma looked like she was in pain or a little frustrated every so often, but they continued to play when she had her little episodes- not wanting to startle her. 
About an hour in, Harry had started to get worried, her contractions were getting worse and she was so uncomfortable. “My love, should I call over the midwife? I can see you are so uncomfortable, it hurts to see you like this.” Harry confesses, sitting behind Y/n, legs on either side of her, his hands rubbing her bump up and down. Y/n shakes her head, of course being stubborn. It was her first at-home birth and water birth, it was a bit of an unusual choice but they wanted to try it out before they were (possibly) done having babies. They have always wanted to welcome one of their little ones into the world all while they were still in the confines of their cottage but Y/n was never confident enough to do it. 
“No, I'm fine.” she says, trying to verbally sway her husband into believing that she really was okay to wait it out a bit longer. Harry shakes his head, pulling her hair into a bun with a hair tie he had cuffed around his inked wrist for times like this in her pregnancy when she wasn't feeling the best. “Honey, you can't just sit in pain.” Harry sighs, trying to compromise with his very pregnant wife. Y/n nods, her head bowing down while she grips his hands. Harry smiles, kissing her shoulder, “Thank you, now let me call the midwife and doula. You relax, please,” Harry stresses, wiping the sweat that has collected on his own forehead from stressing. He pulls his leg up, preparing to stand up and call the little team they had set for the birth but Y/n stops him, resting her hand on his knee. “What? What is it, honeysuckle?” Harry fastly questions, his phone slipping from his hand and dropping on the couch cushion below him. 
“Lets not invite them over just yet. I'm not ready.'' Harry sighs hearing his wife's words, nodding anyway. He just wants her comfortable and happy, he would give her the moon if he could. 
“Please lay down then.” her contractions only getting worse from there, Harry eventually calling his mum over to watch the little ones while he deals with his wife. Anne watches over Violet and Forest, entertaining them with their many toys while their parents deal with their apparent stubborn youngest sibling. 
Harry sighs, helping his pregnant lover up because she claimed she wanted to take a walk in the garden, look at her flowers, give the animals some love before she won't be able to see them for many days due to her being in with the new baby, also being exhausted, she knows her body is gonna be rundown after this. “You don’t have to do this, sweetpea.” Harry sighs for the millionth time today, helping Y/n up and wrapping an arm around her back. “Oh,” she says, her tone catching Harry's attention. “Hm?” Y/n laughs under her breath, catching his eyes with hers. “Maybe you should call them now.” Harry's browns pinch together, releasing an uneven breath. “Why?” 
“Because my water just broke.” 
That brings them to where they are now, Y/n and Harry in the birth pool, Harry once again sitting behind her, comforting her through everything. “I know you want to push but you can't, you're only five centimetres dilated. Halfway there!” The midwife says, only making Y/n groan, her head resting back on Harry's shoulder. Harry rests his cheek on the top of her head, he feels for her- he really does, and if he could have carried all three of their little ones he would have, but sadly he can't so he thanks her every day. “I'm so sorry, honey. God, I wish I could do something.” Harry shakily says, his voice quivering the slightest and his bottom lip jutting out in the slightest, but noticeable pout. “I hate that you're in pain.” Harry whimpers, nosing at the top of her head before kissing over it many times. 
Y/n turns her head, catching her husband's eyes with hers. Y/n softly laughs when she sees her husband, giving him a peck before she rubs his stubbly cheek. “H, I'm okay. I've done this two other times. Everything is going to be okay.” She comforts Harry, the man nodding and quickly pulling himself together, feeling pathetic for having a little break down while his wife is literally about to give birth, she should be the one nearly crying- not him. 
“Yeah,” Harry breathes out through his lips roughly, massaging her hips that are sunk under the warm water. Y/n sinks into his touch, her hands on her bump, rubbing over it almost trying to coax her out of there. The doula rubs at y/ns arm smiling, encouraging her and telling her she's doing great- but she isn't paying much attention, she's more focused on the main in her abdomen and wanting her little one out. “Come on already, baby” Y/n stresses, bringing her wet hand up to wipe at the sweat that has beaded at her hairline. 
The process continues on slowly, the midwife continuing to check- the progress only being a half of a centimetres. Harry and Y/n both know it's only been a few hours but it's already been a long and hard (and stressful) day, their emotions are all over the place and Y/n and Harry's bodys are both going through it, of course mostly Y/n’s. “She will be here soon, sunshine. Dont stress about it, it's not good for her.” Harry whispers in her ear, holding a lemon printed glass up to her lips, periodically helping her drink a bit of water and letting her eat the ice chips that the midwife allowed her since she wasn't too far gone. She sucks from the straw, pulling away after a bit. 
Harry can tell that she is starting to get frustrated, as much as she is trying to conceal it. He knows her like the back of his hand- she might snap soon and start crying and that's the last thing they need. “Hey, do you want the kids in here? Or maybe get in a different position? I know you're not comfortable, I just want you to be okay, honey.” Y/n shakily sighs, pushing a hand through her hair and shrugging. 
**
Y/n is finally pushing. The midwife between her legs, guiding their new bundle of joy out. Harry is behind her, his arms wrapped around her, his lips over her cheeks and shoulders while he cheers her on. Then the doula outside of the birth pool, on her left, calming her and brushing her hair out of her eyes every time it flies out of her bun Harry had pulled up for her. “My god baby, you are doing amazing. Violet and Forest and going to be so excited to see you two.” Y/n breathes heavily as her head falls against his shoulder, smiling weakly at him. He places a kiss on her forehead letting his lips linger. She pushes again, her head lifting up while she tries to push out their little girl, her cheek read and hand squeezing harrys as hard as she can, growing frustrated with herself at how weak she feels, she just wants her out already. 
“Dont get frustrated, honey. Everything is okay.” Harry coos into her ear, small tears starting to bead down his face. Y/n focuses on his words, closing her eyes and letting herself sink into her husband and relax for two second before she is in her birth haze again and in blinding pain trying to focus on getting their little one out. “Hey, hey, focus on getting her out. Take a minute to breathe. Everything is okay.” Their doula says, brushing her hair back, Y/n nodding and giving another hard push. “Her head is out!” the midwife announces, Harry smiling and looking down to peek at his baby. He lets out a soft silent sob when he sees her face for the first time, and even though she is covered in goo she is still one of the most gorgeous girls he has ever seen, his wife and Violet being the other ones. Y/ns cheeks are red and tears are running down her face, she's exhausted already and wishing she could push her out quicker. 
“Give me a good push!” the midwife urges, making Y/n sob, tired. She gives the best push she can, the midwife maneuvering the shoulders out. Harry caresses her cheek, giving it a peck before the midwife motions for Harry to come down. “Please, comfort her.” Harry says softly to the doula, moving along in the water and meeting the midwife. The midwife directs him on what to do, telling him how to hold the baby and what exactly to do once she is fully out. “Okay, push one more time, sweetpea.” Harry says, looking up at his wife. Y/n nods, pushing one last time while Harry guides the baby out with the assistants of the midwife, their new baby now fully out, crying. 
“Oh, she's beautiful, my love.” Harry smiles, holding his baby girl in his arms, cradling her to his bare chest while the midwife prepares to clean her, quickly pulling her from harry and wiping off the goo, washing off the little hair she had and cleaning out her ear, eyes, and mouth, then setting her bad in Harry's arms. “Isn't she just amazing.” Harry smiles, sitting next to his wife, preparing to cut the umbilical cord. He cuts it quickly, making sure it's cut well before kissing over her head. “Welcome to the word Lavender styles” Y/n coos, counting over her fingers and toes after placing a soft kiss on her foot. 
**
The chaos of the house has died down, just the five members now in the house after Anne had spent a while visiting. “She's chunky isn't she?” Y/n weakly smiles, harry chuckling and nodding. Violet sitting between his legs and Forest laying on his mummas lap, the styles family tried, but happier than ever. “I was taken aback when i pulled her out, she's a healthy one.'' Harry smiles, his hand rubbing over his newborn's belly, kissing her chubby cheeks. Y/n smiles, giving her fat thigh a squeeze, “our little Lavender.” she coos, her eyes almost fluttering shut. Harry pouts, running a hand over the top of her head. 
“Hey, why dont I make you something you eat, then you can go to sleep.” Y/n smiles, both her hand occupied with lulling Forest to sleep with soft scratches to his back and softly massaging Lavender's chunky thigh. “I've got to feed her.” Y/n reminds, she hast fed her yet- Harry has been a bit of a hog but she didn't mind, she loved seeing him and their babies together. “I'll go make you something sweet pea, you feed her.” Harry smiles, not taking no for an answer because he is already delicately placing her in Y/ns arms and taking Violet along with him to make something yummy. 
Harry and Violet come back not too long after, Harry smiling widely as he carries a smoothie bowl with chia seeds, coconut shreds, honey, and berries over the top. Violet smiles the same smile as her daddy, carrying a big cup of water that Y/n is sure Harry made her carry with both hands and walk slowly back. “Is she eating well?” Harry asks, setting the bowl down on the bedside table before taking the cup from Violet, taking her and helping her on the bed. Y/n nods, Harry peeking at Lavender, watching as she opens her big round eyes making him chuckle, kissing her chubby cheeks. Harry sets on the bed softly so he doesn't disrupt the two or cause Y/n any more discomfort. 
He collects a spoonful of the thick smoothie on the spoon, holding it to Y/ns mouth. “You're spoon feeding me?” Harry nods, nods verbally answering her because he knows if he does it would only open her up to object it even more. Y/n can't even deny it, she's weak, exhausted, emotionally and physically drained, so she of course opens up her mouth and lets him spoon feed her like he does their children. “Thank you for ever-” Harry shakes his head, instantly shushing her. “Thank you. You gave me my three beautiful children, I can never repay you. I dont know how you do it. I love you.” Harry says, smiling and pressing a kiss to her forehead, letting his lips rest there. 
“I love you.” 
Hiii!! sorry for any typos!! i checked over it a thousand times so please let me know if there are any and let me know your thoughts!! There are some more blurbs to come from Y/ns pregnancy so look out for that!! there is only one more part is the cottagecore!harry series but i will still write blurbs and whatnot about cottagecore!harry so he will not be forgotten!!! thank you all for reading and supporting me and being so kind!! i love you all sm<3 
tag list: @iaalien @hopeyoustaythenight @evanjh 
If you would like to be added to my tag list just send me an ask or dm me!<3
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yslkook · 3 years
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just like magic
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pairing: house husband!seokjin x wife!reader summary: some moments of bliss with you and seokjin in your married life together.  word count: 11k warnings: cursing, alcohol, smut (oral f receiving, penetrative sex), suggestive content a/n: some of these moments are inspired by ariana grande songs, enjoy <3 ty to @cutechim​ for reading some of this!! AND THANK YOU TO HANA FOR THIS BEAUTIFUL BANNER IM IN TEARS
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ONE. pov.
The faint golden glow of the early morning barely touches Jin as he rolls over to press his lips to your shoulder, where your sleep shirt has slipped down a bit. You’re still seemingly asleep, soft snores leaving your parted lips and your alarm hasn’t gone off yet.
It always goes off at the most opportune times.
He presses himself closer to you, molding his hips to yours and shoving his hand up your faded purple sleep shirt to palm your tits. You sigh happily, pushing back against him in your sleep.
Jin knows you’re close to waking up, if the quickness of your breaths is any indicator. You smile with your eyes still closed as he drops feathery kisses to your cheeks, your chin, your neck.
“I know you’re awake,” Jin rolls his eyes, his voice hoarse from just waking up.
“I’m sleeping,” You mumble, turning towards him and wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. Jin only laughs airily, dipping his head for a kiss to your lips.
“Wake up then,” Jin breathes. You can feel his half hard cock tucked in his boxers against your thigh already and you hum. It only takes a simple brush for you to buck your hips towards him, centering your bare core to his cock.
You hadn’t bothered with panties last night, after he had fucked you back to sleep. Despite the faint ache in between your legs, you wrap your leg around his hip and pull him on top of you.
“Thought you were sleeping.”
“My annoying husband woke me up,” You say, eyes still slick with sleep. Arousal rolls in your belly when he grinds into you lightly.
The pink haze of sleep begins to slip away as Jin kisses you deeply, with more urgency than before.
“Had to give you something to remember me by today,” Jin whispers, “It’s Monday, after all.”
“Don’t remind me,” You groan, rubbing your eyes, “This week is gonna fucking suck, baby.”
“Shh,” Jin says, pressing a finger to your lips, “We have, like, thirty minutes before you have to start getting ready for work.”
“Better make it worth it, babes,” You laugh and he squeezes your thighs. He raises his head, looking at you like you’re a meal and like you’re his queen.
His lips are heated against your skin, your giggles turning into soft moans of his name quickly. 
“Jin, baby,” You say, voice sounding muffled to your ears, “I have to be at work early-”
“Can’t even appreciate my wifey’s sexy bod,” Jin grumbles and you swat his shoulder, “God, I could eat this pussy out all day-”
“Saying sexy like that isn’t sexy,” You complain, “And you’re not doing anything, you’re just breathing on my clit- gonna give me an embolism-”
One look from Jin, a kiss and a few rolls of your clit with his thumb has you wet against his fingers- the man, your husband of three years, knows your body even better than you know yourself. He knows you better than you know yourself.
His mouth slips over your inner thighs, his hands tight around your hips to hold you in place as you buck your hips impatiently for friction. Jin is so handsome in the morning (well, he’s handsome all the time), but something about the puffiness of his eyes and the pink of his cheeks from sleep always has your pussy fluttering.
Your husband of three years, and your boyfriend for six years before that- he always has your pussy fluttering and your heart soaring. 
Jin swipes his fingers across your glossy folds, glistening just for him, and presses his mouth to your sensitive clit. His hands wander, squeezing your tits fondly, roaming over the hidden bites from the prior night easily. You widen your legs and carelessly throw them over his shoulders.
“Jin,” You whine, “I want you, stop teasing me-”
“‘M not,” Jin says, voice dripping with thick, honeyed desire, “I just, you know how much I love this pussy.”
“Yeah, you love my pussy more than you love me,” You tease, “Please-”
You cut yourself off with a sharp moan as his tongue flicks over your clit teasingly. Hooded eyes meet his dark eyes as his tongue delves deeper into your wet folds, and your thighs quiver almost instantly once he rubs your clit with his thumb.
You’re so sensitive. It’s how he likes you best. (He likes you sensitive, and he likes you in that tight dark green dress you’re planning on wearing to work today.)
Jin loves you in the morning, with the taste of the night before in between your legs. You end the night with him and start your morning with him- it’s all he wants. All he wants is something to remember him by during your inevitably busy days.
“I love you,” Jin mumbles, “My gorgeous girl. Sound so pretty when you cum in my mouth…”
He loves teasing you, loves making you beg for him. And this time is no different. A string of curses fly from your mouth, your back arching when you beg his name in broken noises. 
“Good morning to me,” You giggle lazily, pulling him in for a kiss.
“Good morning to my pretty wifey,” Jin hums and you push him on his back, straddling his hips.
Yeah. It’s your favorite type of morning.
TWO. love language.
“It’s Friday,” Jin mumbles, wrapping his arms around your waist as you pour two mugs of coffee for you both, “The weather outside is awful. You’ll get blown away, just stay home baby.”
You’re already dressed and ready to go into the office, eyeliner sharp and lipstick perfectly placed, but one look outside of the window has you reconsidering. You had already decided that you’d stay home and work from the dining table or the couch but you enjoy seeing Jin grovel a little too much. So you let him.
“When did you become a meteorologist,” You mutter, threading your fingers through his and squeezing.
Your calendar today is quite light. Only a few meetings, a few deliverables for you to provide. You’ve already decided that you’ll stay home and shower Jin with at much attention as you can, but he pouts against your neck.
“That’s the dream.”
“I thought the dream was being my husband.”
“That comes in a close second to being a meteorologist, and I think there’s a one hundred percent chance that you’ll be staying home today and giving me cuddles.”
You roll your eyes at him but can’t resist the smile that tugs at your lips. Turning in his arms and handing him a cup of coffee with a dash of milk and caramel coffee creamer, you lean forward for a kiss.
A crack of thunder sends you jumping in his arms and yelping, nearly dropping the mug to the floor but Jin grabs it before you can.
He knows you better than you know yourself. 
“I’m staying home, baby,” You say, “It’s not worth it. And I have a light day today so maybe…” You trail a finger over the thick vein in his neck and over his chest with a sly grin.
“So maybe we can take a nap together at noon,” Jin finishes your sentence for you with a gleam in his eyes.
“...Or that.”
Working from the dining table whenever you worked from home made you feel close to Jin. He’d flit around you, pecking you with kisses or a squeeze of your shoulder whenever he passed you, or telling you to get up off your ass if you’ve been sitting too long. But mostly, you just enjoy his company and working from home always puts you in a good mood.
Even if you have a designated office in the cozy townhouse you’ve been living with Jin in for two years now, you prefer the dining table for work from home days. You do use the office, if you really need to. But those days are few and far between.
You have about an hour before you have to log in, so you decide to make breakfast for Jin while he waters the plants upstairs. Usually, it’s Jin making you breakfast- he always makes it a point to have breakfast with you before you leave for work.
You’re happy to have a man who doesn’t resent you for being the breadwinner, as your family and friends had cautioned you of years ago. You had scoffed at them then, as if they knew anything about you or Jin. He’s happy to support you and be your biggest cheerleader and you’re his biggest cheerleader.
You had met in college, studying the same discipline and where you were passionate about it, he wasn’t. He had such a passion for life that was refreshing, and he brought out the best in you. Jin made you laugh, he made you love, and you both just worked so well together. Even on your off days, you both just knew each other.
You cut your avocado egg toasts in half and pour a glass of mango pineapple smoothie (Jin’s favorite) for both of you.
“Hey, honey,” You call when he pokes his head around the corner and see his fluffy purple house slippers, “Breakfast is ready.”
Jin kisses you in appreciation, pulling you closer to him by your waist. “Girl of my dreams making me breakfast, huh?”
“Shut up,” You swat his chest, “It’s too gross to take Bomi out, right?”
“Yeah, my baby is still sleeping in her bed,” Jin says, yelping when you pinch his waist.
“Your baby?”
“Oh, fine, our baby,” Jin rolls his eyes, “Was gonna take her to see Jimin and baby Jia today. Fucking storm…”
“Maybe they can come over this weekend, when it passes,” You hum, “We can make those lemon bars she likes.”
“We can do brunch with them? Have some margaritas and mojitos,” Jin suggests, tugging your hand to join him at the breakfast bar.
“I’m sure Sunmi would appreciate that,” You reply.
You both look up to the ceiling when you hear Bomi trotting out of her bed and at the top of the stairs. You stand at the bottom with open arms and she bounds towards you eagerly, nuzzling you with her soft nose and licking you everywhere.
“Hi Bomi, baby,” You coo and scratch her head, “It’s raining outside, we can’t go to the dog park today. You can hang out with Mommy and Daddy inside.”
She only looks at you with big, light brown eyes and pants in excitement. She slides out of your arms and stands in front of Jin, only to jump and cuddle into his lap. 
“You’re getting so big, Bomi,” Jin whispers, “Gonna tackle me over someday.”
“She could take you,” You tease and sit next to him, tickling Bomi’s jaw. You put some dog food into her bowl (that Jin made himself in his ceramics class that he took on a whim and also painted) and pour some water for her in her water bowl.
Bomi immediately jumps off to have her own breakfast. You can vividly remember when you and Jin had both fallen in love with her at the adoption shelter, almost three years ago now. She had seemed so scared, and you and Jin had approached her cautiously. You knew she had an instant connection (like you had, years ago) with Jin when she touched his paw and saw stars in his eyes.
You brought her home less than two weeks later, and she’s been your baby ever since.
Jin nudges your foot playfully. You nudge him back. 
“Got a long day today?” Jin murmurs after a bite of avocado toast. You wipe away stray avocado with your thumb and lick it for yourself.
“Nah, should be done around two or three,” You reply. Jin beams at you and kisses your temple.
“Don’t let me keep you,” You say airily, “I know you like working out in the mornings. I put protein powder in your smoothie.”
He rolls his eyes. As if you could come in the way of his meticulously crafted routine. Today, he was planning on working on the story he was writing, working out, and making lunch and dinner. He would be doing a little more, if the weather wasn’t working against him.
Jin loves the flexibility of his life, honestly. He loves being able to do the things he loves, while you do the things you love. And if that means him not technically having a stable job, and you bringing home most of the money, that’s more than okay with him. Besides, you’ve both come a long way from any insecurities that that might have brought. 
He loves that all of his joy for life also comes with you by his side.
That’s what over ten years of being together will do. 
***
“Baby,” You call from the couch, “Come here. I miss you.”
Your meetings for the day have finished and you have finished the bulk of your work, leaving the majority of your day free to finish up loose ends and send a few emails. This week has been filled with many early mornings and late nights, leaving both you and Jin yearning for the weekend and for more time with each other.
He comes to you with wide, puppy eyes and you beckon him forward. “Sit with me, honey. Please?”
Jin leans towards you, chin on your shoulder and chest to your back as he watches you type away. Your shoulders instantly relax with his touch and the comforting scent of his rain scented shower gel. He’s still warm from his shower and he wraps an arm around your waist.
It’s your favorite place to be.
“Is that woman being annoying,” Jin asks, “The one on your project for that document change you gotta make?”
“Nah, she’s been out this week,” You mutter, “I gotta have a heart to heart with her next week and tell her to stop railroading me every chance she gets.”
“Damn you’re so sexy when you get all mean,” Jin shivers dramatically and you laugh against him.
“‘M not mean,” You reply absently, clicking ‘send’ on an email and messaging your boss to have a good weekend. Bomi has woken up from her nap and joins you both on the couch, curling in your lap and dwarfing over your laptop screen.
“Bomi,” You chuckle and rub her back, “Silly girl.”
She only looks at you with wide eyes, happy that she has your attention. It reminds you a little bit of how Jin looks at you when he catches your eye. Jin leans over and takes Bomi from you and cuddles here in his lap. He turns around so his back is pressed against yours and his legs outstretched the other way. The warmth of him against you is welcome as you finish up your emails and sign off for the weekend as quickly as you can.
“Okay,” You murmur, “‘M done with work. Wanna take Bomi out for a walk with me? Looks like the storm stopped for the most part…”
“Sure, maybe I’ll finally get my kiss in the rain.”
“Yeah, and we’ll both get pneumonia,” You chastise him, patting his cheek, “Has Jungkook been getting in your head lately? Mr. Romance over there.”
Jin gasps in offense, “More like I’m getting in his head. Everything he knows about romance is because of me.”
“Okay, baby. Whatever you say.”
THREE. honeymoon avenue.
“I have two weeks of vacation left,” You muse, running your hands through Jin’s hair, “We should go to Phuket. We’ve been meaning to for years…”
“They say November is the best time,” Jin replies, peering over to the computer. Where you’re currently looking up flights and hotels to Phuket.
“November is next week, Seokjin.”
“Okay, and? Spontaneity is the backbone of long-term relationships,” Jin says matter-of-factly and dodges the inevitable swat to his shoulder.
“I thought trust, love, and respect is the backbone of long-term relationships.”
“That too. But really, it’s the fact that my hot wife wants to take me, her even hotter husband on a romantic getaway-”
“We should go,” You murmur, already thinking about the clear, pristine waters and white, sandy beaches. Not to mention the food…
“Baby, will you text in the groupchat? Ask if anyone wants to go,” You say, bookmarking beaches and places to sightsee. You already have a growing list of hotels and AirBnb’s that you want to investigate further.
“Not everyone is as spontaneous as us, sweets,” Jin says, “Peasants.”
***
In the end, only you and Jin end up deciding to go to Phuket. It was too last minute for your friends, especially for your friends with young children.
It’s just you and Jin in Phuket for a week. You had decided to leave Bomi with the dog sitter, as she hated flying and was terrified of it.  
By the time you both get settled in your Airbnb, you’re both bouncing off the walls with pent up energy. 
Phuket isn’t ready for the storm that was you and Seokjin.
***
“Sweets, you ready for dinner?” Jin calls from the bedroom, leaning against the headboard of the bed.
“Five minutes!” 
Jin rolls his eyes fondly, very well acquainted with how long it takes for you to get ready sometimes. Your eyeliner had to be just perfect, lipstick complimenting your eye makeup, your jewelry a statement but not obnoxious… The list goes on.
He scrolls on his phone impatiently, looking at the photos the dog-sitter sent of Bomi and then he lets his friends know what their plans were. They all excitedly ask for pictures and updates.
He’s already gotten quite tan since being here, and it’s only been four and a half days. Though most of the time during those four and a half days was spent at the beach, hiking, exploring, or sipping drinks at the beach bar.
Bliss. Seeing the way the sun glows on your skin and the way you beam at him without the stress of deadlines and responsibilities is a sight he’ll never tire of. If his photo album on his phone is anything to go by, it’s filled with candids of you and photos of you sprinkled in with the scenery and the food you’ve both been eating. 
You’ll try anything once, and Jin will, too.
Five minutes go by.
“I’m hungry,” Jin whines, finally getting up and leaning against the doorframe. His throat goes a little dry when you look at him with wide eyes, in the middle of applying your false lashes.
“Two minutes, baby, I promise-”
“I should eat you instead,” Jin says, eyes raking over your figure brazenly. You’re wearing a tight red dress with thin straps, and a thin necklace that he had bought you for your most recent birthday sits around your neck. 
“What a line,” You roll your eyes.
“It worked, didn’t it?” Jin says cockily, “Got you forever and always.”
“How romantic.”
***
You can’t deny the butterflies that you still get around Jin, especially when he looks at you like that over dinner. Like you’re the only thing in the entire world when his eyes are molten gold for you and you only. 
You won’t deny that the way he calls you his wife in that low, raspy voice sends a rush of something curling in your belly. You’ll blame it on the third glass of sam song that you’ve had. Jin himself is on his third glass of mekhong. His ears and the apples of his cheeks are flushed red from the alcohol. 
You want to pounce on him. Who does Seokjin think he is? His lips are bitten and a little red from chapstick. And from you kissing him before arriving at the restaurant for your reservation. The top two buttons of his shirt are undone, giving you a few of his collarbones and the necklace around his neck.
Your face feels hot. It’s probably the alcohol. Jin knows that look on your face. The one where you’re impatient. The one where you just want him and want him and want him. 
He’ll take care of you. He always will.
***
“My pretty wifey,” Jin murmurs, face buried in your neck as he rocks into you slowly. The hot, slow glide of his cock burns in the best way, leaving you sated and wanting more at the same time.
“My gorgeous girl,” Jin says and you whine, clenching around him. Your legs wrap around his waist and he groans, dotting your skin in kisses. He’s all around you, coating you in a pillowy haze. Your lipstick stains his lips, fading on his neck and his glistening chest.
“Can’t believe you did this for me,” He groans, fingers ghosting over your bare, sensitive pussy. (Yes, you’d gotten a wax before vacation. As it had been a while, and you wanted to see Jin’s reaction.)
“Fuck, Jin,” You sigh. You feel a little dazed, a little airy. “Feel so fucking good. You’re so… big, always feel so fucking good.”
Your clothes are strewn about in various corners of the Airbnb, both of you too hasty and impatient to get your hands on each other after dinner and a short walk on the beach. Honestly, you would’ve fucked him out on the beach if he allowed you to. The way the moonlight hit his eyes just made your brain shut off and think lewd thoughts of only him.
You’ve cum at least three times now, and Jin shows no signs of stopping. Truthfully, neither do you- you can keep up with him and he can keep up with you. It’s part of what’s made you both work so well.
“Good, baby?” Jin mumbles. He doesn’t give you time to answer before gathering you in his arms and sitting you up. Your tits are plastered to his chest, and you can’t help but snake a hand in between you both and playfully twist his nipple. The angle of his cock in you is deeper than before and you struggle to stave off the need to cum.
“Yeah,” You say faintly.
“What’s on the agenda tomorrow?” Jin asks quietly, slowing and stopping his movements. You whine again when he stops moving inside of you.
“Shh, baby,” Jin says, “Just wanna be with you like this. What’re we doing tomorrow?”
“Seriously?” You grunt, trying to get some friction on your clit but he halts your movements with a large hand on your hips. You pinch his nipple hard and he yelps. “You wanna talk about our itinerary tomorrow when you’re balls deep inside me-”
“Yeah, I gotta plan ahead,” Jin snorts.
“Um,” You mumble, trying to gain your wits about you, “The market. A-and the distillery, and then…”
“And then?” Jin purrs in your ear, nipping your earlobe. 
“And then the elephant sanctuary. Maybe Bangla road a-at night,” You reply, pressing your face into his neck.
“Good girl,” Jin breathes and you whimper into his skin, “My smart, wonderful, amazing wifey-”
“Wanna be your wife forever,” The words slip out of your mouth without you meaning to, as they usually do. Something about Jin calling you his wife like that sets you ablaze, makes you possessive for a man already yours.
“Good thing we’re married then, huh?” Jin jokes and you let out a breathless laugh.
“Baby,” You exhale, “Wanna cum. Wanna cum so bad, wanna feel my hubby’s cum-”
Jin groans into your neck, biting your clavicle lightly. “You’re so impatient,” He chides lightly.
“Will you move-”
“I told you to wait-”
“Fine, I’ll just,” You push him on his back roughly and press your palms to his chest and sigh happily when you finally get the friction you’re craving as you begin to bounce on his cock. Jin squeezes your hips, your tits and pulls you closer to him to mouth at your chest. He wraps a hand around your neck lightly as you try to keep your rhythm steady and your breaths stutter.
You ignore the burn in your thighs in favor of clenching around his cock and focusing on how full you feel.
Jin’s eyes are hooded, zeroed in on you exactly how you like them to be. He can sense when you’re beginning to get tired, holding your hips tightly and taking control over to slam his hips into yours. He stays focused on the way your lips part in a delicious ‘o’ and he pulls your face close to his harshly to capture your lips in a bruising kiss. You whimper into his mouth as he slams into you, his hips pistoning and your voice growing louder and louder.
He circles your clit, moves the same hand to your lips and pushes his thumb into your mouth and you eagerly accept his finger. Spit coats his thumb and he hums in approval.
You cum abruptly and unexpectedly, pleasure washing over you in waves at the simple clasp of his big hand around your neck. His cock is still throbbing inside you, pace relentless. Tears gather around your waterline from oversensitivity but you murmur for him to cum, you tell him how much you want his cum in you and he moans your name in your ear before emptying himself in your pussy.
“I love you,” You mumble, wrapping your arms around his neck and gripping his necklace lightly. He wipes any stray moisture from your eyes and kisses your forehead. 
“I love you,” Jin says hoarsely. Jin tries to pull out but you protest, wanting to lay with him for a few moments longer. At some point, you end up dozing off in his arms and Jin cleans you both up before tucking you into bed.
You feel the faint brush of his lips on your forehead and bury yourself into his side before you tumble into sleep.
FOUR. long days.
you.
You woke up this morning with a migraine (truly one of the worst ways to wake up). Despite taking medicine after it became too excruciating to bear and increasing your water intake, your head was still throbbing nearly twelve hours later.
Not to mention, everyone at work was grating on your last nerve. It seemed that everyone wanted a piece of you today and you were getting pulled in a million different directions. You didn’t even have time to do the things you needed to do.
The only people who you were able to speak to without feeling like ripping your hair out were Namjoon and Jungkook. Even they told you that you should probably go home early, since it looked like you were about to pass out. Namjoon offered to call Jin to pick you up, but you refused quickly.
Being in your office was making your migraine worse. So by 3 PM, you pack your stuff up and head out without bidding anybody goodbye. 
Your feet ache, your head is pounding, you’re hungry and you could absolutely scream. You rest your forehead on your steering wheel before pulling out of your parking space with bleary eyes. Your suit feels stifling today, and it feels difficult to breathe.
You want Jin, you’ve wanted Jin since you arrived at work and everything went to shit. But you can’t bear to listen to a single sound over your speakers so you just wait until you get home.
***
“You’re home early,” Jin says, looking up at you from his glasses at the dining table. You say nothing, only dropping your backpack to the floor and climbing into his lap tiredly.
“Oh, honey,” Jin murmurs, kissing your hair and rubbing your shoulder. Your eyes are closed and you hum into his neck. 
“My head hurts a lot,” You say quietly into his skin, “Today sucked.”
“Let’s go get you changed, honey.” 
Bomi follows both of you upstairs, sitting in her bed as Jin changes you out of your work clothes. He starts with your suit jacket, peeling it off easily and hanging it back up in your closet. Then, he pulls your button-up from the waistband of your pants and unbuttons your shirt slowly, pressing a soft kiss to your skin with each button that comes undone. Jin easily unclasps your bra, letting his fingers trail over your skin, before pulling one of his shirts over your head.
You’re already feeling a little better.
Jin pushes your pants down your legs and taps the back of your thighs so he can pull your favorite sweatpants up. “Gotta take your makeup off, baby.”
You make a noise of acknowledgment and allow him to take you to the bathroom, where he gently washes away the remnants of your day (after he washes his hands).
After he moisturizes your face with a tender touch, he pulls you into his chest for a long hug. His hands roam your back from under his shirt and you sigh.
“Can we nap,” You mumble, eyes already closing.
Jin nods and carries you to bed, making sure to draw the curtains closed to envelope you both in as much darkness as possible. He tucks you in before stepping away for a minute, but you’re already being beckoned towards sleep. “Baby, take medicine,” Jin murmurs, holding two pills and a glass of water in his hand. You sit up with a wince and do as he says.
“Good girl,” Jin says, cradling your cheek and crawling into bed with you. Jin turns on his side and drapes himself over you. He smiles when you sigh contentedly and he kisses your hair, coaxing you further into sleep with a few rubs of your belly.
Your soft snores fill the room and Jin only hopes you wake up feeling a little better.
***
jin. 
Jin can’t seem to knock this metaphorical wall down, no matter how much coffee he chugs, how long he sits in the home office, how long he stares at his laptop screen.
Writer’s block. What a pain.
He runs a hand through his already messy hair and catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He looks like shit- bags under his eyes, fatigued, zapped of energy and motivation.
But he has a deadline coming up in the next few months and he has absolutely nothing to show for it. He had had success with his first short story, but he’d called it beginner’s luck. Then came the second story, and the third. 
And now here he is. Riding on the coattails of his initial success. Maybe this is how far his mild talent would take him. Maybe this is all he can put out into the world. 
It was nice while it lasted.
Jin huffs loudly. He knows you’d scold him for thinking such thoughts, for wallowing like this. You’d kiss him, murmur words of comfort and tell him that you believe in him.
He wants you, he wants you to hold him. A sudden wave of sadness and inadequacy washes over him.
Jin will just wait for you to get home. Until then, he’ll lay in bed and wallow in self-pity. Just how he likes.
***
You know something is wrong when Jin doesn’t reply to your texts after a few hours or send you a silly meme, or a corny joke as he usually does. He could be busy, but you just have a feeling.
So when you come home to see Bomi and Jin cuddled in bed, you only softly sigh. Jin rarely takes afternoon naps- it’s clear he’s upset.
“Jin?” You murmur, “Everything okay, baby?” You kneel on the floor of the side of the bed he’s facing and push his hair from his eyes. Jin blearily looks at you with fatigue in the lines of his face.
“No,” He says, voice muffled, “Lay with me? But take your outside clothes off.”
You bite your tongue, wanting to say “when have I ever laid in bed in outside clothes” but you refrain. You quickly wash up and change into comfy clothes and slide into bed to wrap your arms around his waist. You press your nose to his neck and drop a kiss there.
Jin relaxes immediately in your hold, finally able to get his mind to stop going a million miles a minute. Your hands are soothing and gentle around him, you wrap your legs around his to cocoon him in your embrace.
“Wanna talk about it, baby?” You murmur, dropping a kiss to the back of his ear.
“I just,” Jin sighs, “This story. I feel so stuck, and they want the first draft in a few weeks and I have nothing- I mean, what if this is it. This is all I could put out into the universe and… I felt like I was finally doing something great, something I loved. I felt like I was finally getting started-”
“Oh, sweetheart,” You coo, “It’s scary doing something amazing and feeling like you can’t replicate the same success. Or the same quality end result. Maybe you just need a break, honey. For a few days. And I’m sure if you ask for an extension, they’ll understand. You have so many words in this pretty head, baby. You have so many stories to tell.”
Jin turns in your arms, his eyes a little wet. You cup his cheek tenderly and he leans into your touch.
“You work so hard baby,” You murmur, “You’re so hard on yourself. Be patient with yourself.”
“I love you,” He mutters, pulling you in for a hug, “I love you. Even if you did wear outside clothes in bed, I love you.”
FIVE. nasa.
Falling in love with Seokjin came naturally- you had met him in one of your shared college classes in undergrad during your second year of college, and had become acquaintances that way. It had taken you longer to become real friends with him, but it hadn’t taken you long at all to realize how attracted you were to him.
You wanted him and he wanted you, as he drunkenly told you over shitty vodka shots at the bar that your mutual friends were celebrating their twenty-first birthdays at. He was so shy at the time, he still is sometimes, that you could understand how much it took for him to admit it to you. Whether it was out of intoxication or not. Of course, it had taken some time for you to get your shit together with each other. But the rest was history.
College sweethearts. You can still remember what it felt like in the beginning, how he made your heart grow ten sizes in your chest and made you feel like you were in the clouds. You can remember because you still feel it now, over ten years later. Give or take.
You remember your friends and your older cousins telling you that it wouldn’t work- that you were two very different people. You were too uptight, you didn’t take risks, you were not Seokjin’s type at all. Sure, maybe it seemed that way on paper. But the more you knew him and grew to love him, the more you felt like he was the missing piece of your puzzle.
You’ve long let go of the doubts of people around you. And it was even more bothersome that your own friends and family questioned your judgment. Because his friends and his family loved you. They sang your praises whether you were present or not, and his friends and family had slowly become your friends and family, too.
It made you happy beyond happy.
But there were some times when you and Jin were not on the same wavelength, and today was one of those days. You both fought here and there, like any couple did. But it had been a long time since you both fought like this.
You were both spending the day at the park with Bomi and then furniture shopping for a new coffee table. Jin had been inspired to redo the decor in the living room and you were basking in his inspiration. 
But the morning had first started with you spilling your coffee and subsequently breaking your mug when it had slipped right out of your hands. You had then cut yourself on one of the sharper pieces after ensuring that Bomi was in her crate so she wouldn’t get hurt because of your stupidity-
Jin comes bounding down the stairs with panicked, wide eyes when he sees you pouting and holding a cloth to your hand. He looks down at the spilt coffee and the broken pieces of your mug and sighs.
You clean up the broken pieces with Jin and he checks your hands and feet afterwards. He helps you bandage your hand up, even though it’s a superficial cut. “Clumsy,” Jin snorts, “You’d lose your head if you didn’t have me.”
It had been such a small thing, but then a few other small things started adding up. Bomi peed on the rug before you had left for the park.
And to top it all off, Jin’s shoulder has been bothering him more than usual. His shoulder pain has been flaring up over the last few months, and despite your attempts to coax him into physical therapy or at least a doctor’s visit, he stubbornly refuses to. Something about it just being a part of getting older, or something.
Every time you try telling him to see a doctor, it ends in a minuscule fight and Jin shuts the conversation down. You can’t understand what the big deal is. Maybe there’s something more going on, something he’s not sharing with you.
This morning is one of those days that his shoulder is aching more than it usually does. You offer to drive to the park, but he grits his teeth and tells you that he can handle it.
You let it go for now.
At the park, Jin relaxes considerably, running around and playing with Bomi. There are some other dogs around so you and Jin let Bomi play with them, chatting with the other dog parents around you. Bomi is still getting used to being around other dogs, so you’re both happy to see her meshing well.
Bomi begins to tire herself out, curling at your feet and panting. Indicating that she’s tired and thirsty. Maybe a little hungry.
“Hi Bomi baby,” You coo, “Want some water and treats? Come, baby.”
“Wanna head out soon? We gotta check out the furniture store still,” Jin murmurs to you and you nod. He seems impatient, tapping his foot against the grass but you say nothing. 
You rub his back fleetingly once Bomi finishes her treats and you carry her leash in your hand, your other hand in Jin’s. He’s tense, eyes narrowed in concentration and you think you know why. You think his shoulder is bothering him and he’s being stubborn about it. 
You put Bomi in the backseat, stopping Jin from getting in the driver’s seat for a second. “Hey,” You mumble, taking your hands in his, “I’ll drive-”
“No, I’ll drive,” He says it with a note of finality and you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.
“I know your shoulder hurts, love,” You try to say as gently as you can, “Let me do it.”
“I’m fine,” Jin insists, stubbornness dripping from his tone, “Get in the car. I’m fine.”
You huff, rolling your eyes. The car ride is quiet, tension filling the spaces between you. You want to say something, you really do. But you don’t want to upset him further when he’s driving.
But then you see him wince and groan softly in pain with his hands on the steering wheel.
“Seokjin, pull over,” You say a little firmly. A little annoyed that he let it get this far. 
“I can’t just pull over,” He hisses, “Besides, I’m fine, I’ll get us home-”
“We were supposed to go to the furniture store,” You roll your eyes, “But you’re right, pull over so I can drive us home. And I’m calling the doc once we get home-”
“No!” Jin exclaims, “I’m not fucking pulling over-”
“Why not? I’m literally telling you that I’ll drive! Baby, please-”
Jin rarely ever loses his patience with you, but today is just one of those days. “You should’ve fucking driven then,” He somehow has the audacity to say.
“You’re joking right? I told you multiple times I would drive,” You refrain from raising your voice, “You won’t call the doctor, you won’t see a physical therapist. What the fuck am I supposed to do?”
“Leave it alone! You’re supposed to fucking leave it alone,” Seokjin says, not holding back the irritation on his tongue. The hoops on his ears dangle and bounce when he looks at you quickly.
He ignores the hurt on your face and watches it transform into anger.
“Alright, I’ll just fucking leave it alone, since you’re doing such a great job of taking care of it yourself,” You mutter.
“Don’t- don’t scold me under your breath,” He says, more like yells, “A-and quit nagging me about it, fuck!”
The irritation in your belly vanishes quickly, hiding behind your hurting heart. You turn away from him, facing the passenger side window so he doesn’t see your eyes beginning to water. 
Jin sighs, already realizing his error. You hate when anyone raises their voice at you, much less when it’s him. Shit. He has to fix this, but damn, you can be pushy when you want to be.
You sniffle.
“I’m sorry,” Jin says instantly, “Baby, I’m sorry I yelled.”
“Just drive, Seokjin,” You sigh, wiping your eyes.
So you both sit in silence.
***
“Baby,” Jin begs, “Please, baby, say something.”
“I don’t know what to say,” You mumble, his words ringing clear in your head. You had put Bomi in her bed, as she had somehow fallen asleep despite you and Jin arguing.
So now you’re both standing in the living room, looking at each other sadly. “Can I hug you?” Jin asks, walking towards you with outstretched arms. He dwarfs over you but you stand limply in his arms, your own arms hanging awkwardly at your side.
“Baby,” Jin pleads with you, cradling your cheek.
You’ve had worse fights with him in the past. But you knew him, you knew he wouldn’t lash out like this normally.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” You say bluntly, “And don’t lie to me and say everything’s fine. This isn’t just about your shoulder, so what is it?”
Of course you’d know that he was hiding something. You’re his other half after all, so he shouldn’t be surprised.
Jin sighs, rubbing his face tiredly. “I just…” He whispers.
“Tell me, baby,” You say reassuringly, hand on his chest, “It’s just me.”
He squeezes his eyes shut to gather his thoughts before opening his mouth and giving himself the chance to hurt your feelings again. “I just...I feel like I have no reason to get sick. To be in pain, I mean, what am I doing? I’m just at home, anyway-”
“Seokjin,” You murmur in a hushed whisper, “You’re not just at home-”
“I just feel- inadequate sometimes lately,” Jin says, his eyes wide and vulnerable, “I feel stuck and like… unsettled. I just want to be a husband you can be proud of. I’m sorry I yelled at you in the car.”
“Honey,” You cup his face with love in your eyes, “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out together, okay? You can tell me anything, when you’re ready. I hate pushing you to open up but sometimes you just need it, baby.
“I’ll always be proud of you no matter what. You are my dream babe, so supportive and loving and I always feel safe with you. If you want to work again, we’ll figure it out. If you want to write something else, we’ll figure it out. I’ll always be proud of you, but I want you to be proud of you, too. I love you.
“And you can make it up to me with dinner,” You joke, pulling a laugh from him.
“I’m really sorry,” Jin says, pulling you in for a proper hug. This time you reciprocate and hold him close. 
“I know, love,” You murmur, “I know.”
SIX. question and answer.
Seokjin had quit his job about two years before you both had gotten married. He’d been dreaming about finally putting his dream of being a true storyteller to the test, and you had supported him. You’d read through his drafts and his manuscripts and encouraged him to pursue it full time. After all, you made enough to sustain you both and then some. And it’s not like he wasn’t making any money at all- he did freelance work with his writing for the most part. 
He was good, he was more than good. He was great. Jin was a natural born storyteller, knowing exactly when to focus on details and when to zoom out and focus on the big picture. The way he wrote his stories genuinely felt like he was spinning words out of gold thread when you read what he wrote.
And he’d blush, the tips of his ears going red, when you said that to him with such conviction because you meant it.
Jin would get his big break soon, you were sure of it. But honestly, Jin was content like this. Freelancing his work, writing and keeping up with his new ideas and stories. It was one of the greatest gifts of his life, he thinks.
You and Jin are both content with your lives. You both find new ways to excite each other and new ways to fall even deeper in love with each other. It’s funny because your wedding hadn’t really even been planned. You both would have been content to exist as boyfriend and girlfriend until the end of time, but the idea of being his wife and of him being your husband was too mesmerizing for you both to let go of.
Neither of you wanted anything big or flashy. In fact, the way Jin had brought it up had been over breakfast (which in itself was so very him)-
“I wanna be yours forever,” Jin says bluntly, syrup at the corner of his mouth.
“Is that a proposal or are you just saying that,” You tease but his eyes are serious.
“Do you want it to be a proposal? I know we’ve talked about marriage and how what we are now is enough for both of us. I know you love me and I know I love you. But… god, I want to be your husband. I want you to be my wife.”
“Okay,” You shrug, “So let’s get married.”
“That’s it?”
“Does it need to be any more complicated?” You ask, “Like you said. I already know I want to be with you forever. Let’s make it official. Besides… I wanna be your pretty wifey. Don’t you want that?”
And that was that. You told your parents and he told his parents that you’d be getting married in court, and they had respectively scolded you both for not telling them before or planning anything. But nevertheless, they still came and they were witnesses at the court wedding. Only a few friends had come (you’d only invited a few)- the guys and some of your girls. 
Jungkook had cried along with your mother.
You and Jin at least had a small get together with your friends and family to celebrate a little bit. Your parents were a little miffed that they didn’t have a chance to have an elaborately planned wedding for their eldest daughter, but they knew you. They knew you wouldn’t have wanted all of that.
“At least they told you and invited us to come,” Your brother says, rolling his eyes at your mother.
But it’s inevitable that for the last few years, the question of whether you both would ever grace your respective parents with grandchildren comes up repeatedly. Your parents are harder on you and more incessant than Jin’s parents are.
Many family gatherings have ended with you losing your temper with your parents, specifically your mother and your aunts. Your patience runs out quickly with them and Jin knows it. It’s part of the reason why you’ve been distancing yourself from your mother and aunts- it’s exhausting and tiresome to keep having the same conversation. Jin has been witness to your frustrated tears one too many times to count. First, they’d bug you about when you and Jin would get married. And now, they bug you about when you’ll have children.
You and Jin are happy right now. Neither of you had explicitly decided that you didn’t want kids. You’re both just taking it easy. And your family can’t seem to understand that.
Of course, you’ve both talked about kids together. And you’ve thought about whether you were meant to have kids extensively. Truthfully, you never really saw it becoming a reality.
But again… not right now. Maybe later. Or maybe not ever. The decision will come when it comes. It’s been years, and your feelings haven’t changed one way or another.
Your mother says you’re too laid back. Which is funny, because when she met Jin for the first time, she told you that you were too uptight for him.
Jin’s family doesn’t push either of you. His mother treats you like her own daughter, and for that you’re grateful. You’ve heard stories from friends about shitty in-laws, and you’re glad that Jin’s family is your own family.
The Kims are having a small party on this gorgeous summer evening- you and Jin are in attendance, along with his brother, his brother’s wife, and their two kids, and a few of Jin’s aunts, uncles and cousins.
Jin seems to sense that you’re both about to get ambushed by his mother and his aunts in the kitchen after drinks and dinner before you do. You stand closer to him, subtly squeezing his hand in yours. He grips your hand and squeezes back.
At least he’s with you, and you don’t have to fend for yourself, you think dryly.
“You ladies got something to say?” Jin says, his jaw starting to tick. He’s getting upset and you rub your thumb over his hand.
“We only want what’s best for you,” His mom says with a sigh, “You’re both getting older, when will you have kids-”
You swallow a lump down as your throat goes dry and the urge to cry overwhelms you.
“Stop,” Jin warns, his voice low, “We’re not doing this. Not here, not now.”
“We haven’t said anything for this long,” His aunt complains. You want to melt into the floor. 
Are you the problem?
“Do you want a trophy for minding your own business?” Jin says, glaring at his aunt, who cowers with the heat in his stare. You can’t find your voice, so you let Jin speak for both of you.
“Don’t speak to your aunt like that,” His mother scolds Jin but he’s not having it.
“I will, if any of you speak to my wife and I like this,” Jin hisses, “We’re leaving.” 
Jin squeezes your hand and you refuse to let go of him. Your vision is blurry from unshed tears and Jin notices. You manage to hold it in while you grab your purse, until you get to the car and let a few tears fall before shoving your face into his chest and sobbing.
“I know, baby,” Jin sighs, rubbing your back soothingly, “I’m sorry. Let’s go home.”
***
“I don’t know what to say,” You mumble into his chest. You had both immediately changed into night clothes to cuddle in bed, with Bomi in your arms.
“I’m tired,” Jin sighs, “Tired of them asking. Tired of everyone asking us.”
“I’m sorry,” You say, looking up at him, “They’re our family.”
“Doesn’t mean they get to be the way they are,” Jin rolls his eyes.
“I know,” You reply, “I’m running out of things to say to them. We’re gonna push everyone away if we keep this up.”
You say the last part jokingly, but you both know it’s a very real possibility. It’s becoming harder and harder for you both to give them the benefit of the doubt, to say that they only ask out of their own good intentions. It’s beginning to hurt you more and more.
“Maybe they need to be pushed away,” Jin mumbles, “If it means getting some peace of mind and not feeling like this whenever we see our families, maybe it’s worth it.”
“Maybe.”
A beat of comfortable silence.
“Do you want kids?” Jin asks bluntly, “It’s been a while since we actually talked about it. Just want to make sure nothing has changed.”
“No, not now,” You murmur, “Maybe someday. It’s such a hard question to answer. I don’t want to say no definitively but I don’t want to say yes definitively either… Do you want kids?”
“Maybe someday,” Jin echoes, “We can revisit in a few months. Or next year. Whenever we feel like it. Because it’s our decision.”
“Your mom is right,” You sigh, “I am getting older, you know. If we do want kids, we should seriously start thinking about it soon.”
“There are other ways to have kids,” Jin says pointedly, “When we’re both ready. Not because we feel like we have to.”
“Okay,” You say softly, “I love you.”
It’s that simple and that’s that. (For now, at least.)
SEVEN. together.
As you and Seokjin had tumbled out of your late twenties, you both found yourself preferring boozy brunch to nights out. At least with boozy brunch, you could recuperate during the day so you weren’t hungover for the entirety of the next day. 
That’s not to say that you didn’t enjoy a night out every so often with your friends. You liked going out more than Jin did, even when you were in college. 
So it was no surprise that at Taehyung’s boozy birthday brunch, you were well on your way to being drunk and Jin was, too. It had been a long time since you had seen your friends- it really only feels like you see each other for birthdays or big events. You miss the days of college, when you could see each other at the drop of a hat. It never felt this busy even in the years right after college. In the early years, even though most of them were younger than you and Jin, it still felt like there was more time.
It makes you feel nostalgic. You hear Jungkook teasing Jin (as he often does) and Jin dramatically responding. His cheeks are flushed red, the flush creeping down to his neck.
God, he looks so good.
You tear your eyes away from him when Taehyung’s girlfriend calls your name. She asks if you want to dance and you immediately say fuck yes, and stand up with her and with Sunmi to head to the dance floor with two drinks in your hands.
 You can feel Jin’s eyes on your backside- you know you looked good. The pink crop top you had chosen for brunch was tight around your chest and you know these dark wash jeans and short heels (coincidentally your favorite) made your legs and your ass look fantastic.
Not that you didn’t look fantastic at all hours of the day. But you like being reminded that your man cannot get enough of you.
You’re careful with your drinks, ensuring that not a single drop is wasted while you dance with your friends. It’s been a long time since you’ve been able to let loose like this, and it makes you happy to be surrounded by friends that you love.
Sunmi’s hands are on your hips as you throw your head back in loose laughter. You’re vaguely aware of someone taking selfies of the three of you. Mostly, you can feel Jin’s lazy gaze on you, and a few other eyes as well.
You’ll give your husband something to watch, alright.
***
Somehow, it’s only 3 PM when it feels like it's 11 PM. And somehow, Taehyung is eager to go to the club at night, after an afternoon of reckless drinking. You and Jin exchange a wordless look, already knowing where your head is at. 
“Yah… just let us know where the pregame is,” Jin says and Taehyung beams at him, “We’ll take a power nap until then.”
You feel bad that you and Jin probably won’t be going out, but you don’t want to dim his excitement. And honestly, knowing your friends, they’d all hype themselves up after an entire afternoon of drinking only to crash, pass out, and order in to chill.
“I don’t really wanna go,” You complain once you’re both in the comfort of your home, changed and ready for a nap.
“Jungkook told me that they’re all crashing anyway,” Jin says.
“Besides, I wanna blow you when you wake up,” You say sleepily.
“Why not now,” Jin whines, “Look at me, I’m already half hard. Help me.”
“I’ll puke on your dick if I suck you off right now.”
“Not like it hasn’t happened before-”
“Seokjin!” 
“Ugh, fine,” Jin says dramatically, “I’ll just suffer then.”
“Okay, then perish.”
EIGHT. self.
Jin likes lists. He’s a big fan of crossing things off of his lists (which he keeps in his planner and his journal depending on what he makes lists for), and there are very few things as satisfying as completing a task from his list.
He’s a huge stationery enthusiast, only allowing both himself and you to use materials that he deemed satisfactory. He’s recently come across the magic that is washi tape, thanks to Namjoon.
Today, he’s taking Bomi out for a walk and to the nearby dog park, then he’s going to outline some new story ideas in his notebook (to later add to his drive on his laptop), and then he’s visiting baby Jia and Jimin with Yoongi and Holly. 
Inspiration seems to be flooding through his pores these days, and he’ll ride that wave for as long as he can.
After seeing Jia and Jimin, he’ll stop by the grocery store and restock some on veggies, spices and meat. Routinely, you and Jin switch on who makes dinner for the week. You do enjoy cooking (it’s your time to decompress) but you’ll gladly admit that your man cooks better than you. 
He claims that his secret ingredient is love. You think it’s because he’s more patient than you. 
Sunday mornings at least twice a month are spent baking with Jin. You both like trying and making new things together. Sometimes it comes out great, and sometimes it doesn’t.
Jin also picks up some of your shared favorite snacks, two new bottles of wine to try, and a bag of clementines.
***
Initially, the quiet of the house without you felt a bit stifling at times. And once Bomi came into the picture, it became a little more lively. And then Jin had taken some plant recommendations and tips from Namjoon. He takes care of them meticulously, and you even have two succulents on your office desk that Jin had surprised you with.
And then you had surprised him with a record player with a few vinyls of his favorite albums and artists. 
You both had made it a home project after purchasing the record player to build a sturdy, wooden audio rack together. Of course, it had taken months to finish (and if you had called Jin your sexy lumberjack husband and taken photos of him posing with the table together, then that was your business).
Jin puts some music on the record player before taking Bomi’s harness off and letting her stretch her legs. He puts the vegetables and the meat in the fridge and fills up a glass of water (as well as Bomi’s water bowl).
Maybe he’ll put a candle on and work from the couch. 
Jin usually prefers working in his house with music faintly playing in the background. But sometimes, he likes working with Yoongi in his studio. Somehow, the feeling and sound of Yoongi working on his own music puts Jin in the right headspace to write and get his words on paper. 
Jin puts his head down and loses track of time as he types away, tapping his foot to the music in time with the beat. Bomi curls up to his side and rests her head on his thigh.
It must be about two hours later, when his phone starts ringing. It’s Hoseok calling and Jin picks up instantly, knowing that he’s been having a tough time recently. Hoseok had taken the week off to get his thoughts sorted, and it’s clear that he wants (or needs) some company. So Jin tells him to come over and he warms up some leftovers and prepares some snacks.
Hoseok and Jin end up lying in bed together, under the duvet with Bomi in Hoseok’s arms. Jin turns the music up, as it’s comforting to hear in the silence. He doesn’t push him to talk, unless he really wants to. Eventually, with a sigh, he does. 
It’s almost disconcerting, seeing the pull of Hoseok’s lips into a sharp frown. He’s usually so happy, and smiley, sunshine personified. But he is only human and he is not immune to hard days and generally feeling this way.
Jin only holds Hoseok close to him as he tells him how he’s been feeling the last few weeks. Months really. The words stumble out, forcing their way out of his throat (and some tears do, too).
Jin only rubs his friend’s arm reassuringly and listens.
***
You find Jin and Hoseok tucked away in your bed and you’re sure to be quiet and light on your feet when you arrive home from work. You let them have their time together, only saying hello to them when you arrive and start preparing dinner with a glass of wine in your hands.
“You don’t-” Hoseok protests, and you hold your hand up before he can even finish his sentence.
“Stay for dinner, Hobi. It’s been a while,” You murmur with a soft smile, “Besides, Jin got new wine and we’d love to try some with you.”
So he stays, and you see him smile genuinely for the first time in a long time.
NINE. to the nines.
“I love being your arm candy,” Jin murmurs into your ear when you both walk into the swanky hotel together, “Because I’m the only 11 in the room.”
“You’re so full of it,” You roll your eyes, swatting his chest playfully. Truthfully, you enjoy these events so much more when Jin is with you. You can hardly stand being in the room with these many people from work when you don’t have to be.
But being with Jin makes things like this bearable. Enjoyable, even. 
It’s the director’s retirement party, and nearly everyone at the company is here for the party. You spot Jungkook and Namjoon with their respective significant others near the open bar and immediately make a beeline for them.
“Hey,” You murmur, giving them each a tight hug, “You all clean up very nicely.”
“Yah! You didn’t even tell me that when we left the house,” Jin pouts and you roll your eyes. Again.
A lie, and you both know it.
“Let’s make a drinking game out of this shindig,” You mutter and everyone looks on with interested eyes, “Every time you see your boss-”
“You don’t need to make a drinking game outta it,” Jungkook says, wrapping an arm around his date’s shoulders, “We’re already tipsy-”
“Of course you are,” Seokjin rolls his eyes, “Wouldn’t expect anything less-”
“Don’t come for me, I know you both took tequila shots before getting here-”
You leave Jin and Jungkook bickering and walk with Namjoon and his date to the open bar. 
“What do you two feel like having,” You muse, “Let’s get this party going, everyone looks like they’re wasted or like they’d rather be anywhere but here.”
“Should we be networking,” Namjoon muses, taking a look around the ballroom.
“I only network from eight to five pm on weekdays and after that I need a six month notice in advance if I’m being forced to network,” You say flatly, “Let’s just enjoy, Joon.”
“If you say so, boss,” Namjoon grins good-naturedly at you. You hand out your respective drinks, beckoning Jin towards you and have a quiet cheers together.
You’re happy to be with your friends, and with Jin, even if it’s a work event that you have an unspoken obligation to attend.
***
It appears that Taemin does not quite see the ring on your finger- or he sees it and he willfully ignores it. Or it’s the alcohol and he’s just being far more flirty than usual. Either way, you take it in stride and dip out of the conversation as soon as you can to make your way back to Jin.
Who had been watching the whole interaction with amused eyes.
“Are you jealous?” You ask with a sugary grin.
“Yeah, definitely,” Jin rolls his eyes, “Jealous that your coworker caught five minutes of your time. Should I go rough him up?”
“I love when you protect my honor,” You wink at him, rubbing his chest absently, “It’s so sexy.”
“I love you,” Jin says abruptly, “I’m proud to be the person on your arm, you know that?”
“Yeah,” You say dreamily, “I love you.”
You and Jin end up finishing the night with Jungkook, Namjoon and their dates at a nearby pizza place. Even if you look out of place in fancy formal wear, none of you pay it any mind.
Neither you nor Jin particularly prefer PDA, but you can’t help but lean your head against his shoulder when you start to yawn. You’re struggling to stay present in the conversation and Jin’s warmth next to you is pushing you closer and closer to sleep.
You end up dozing off without realizing it, and Jin adjusts himself so that your head is comfortably resting on his shoulder. Everyone is sure to keep their voices down since you’ve fallen into a deep sleep apparently, and once everyone’s finished with their food Jin hesitates to wake you up.
“Honey,” Jin murmurs, shaking your shoulder gently, “The Uber’s almost here. We can go home and go to sleep. A pizza parlor is no place for sleeping.”
It takes a few moments of shaking your shoulder and whispering for you to wake up before Jin just lifts you up and carries you outside. You inhale loudly at the sudden movement and your eyes spring open.
“Jin,” You mumble into his neck, “‘M so tired.”
“I know, baby, we’ll be home soon. Gonna put you down now, alright?” 
Your feet hit the ground but you stay in his embrace, eyes still closed and face tucked into his neck. You force your eyes open with a groan and look over his shoulder to see Jungkook and Namjoon in similar embraces with their own dates.
“They’re cute,” You say softly to Jin, “We’re cuter, but they’re still cute.”
“That’s my girl,” Jin grins and pecks your forehead.
“‘M your pretty wifey,” You remind him. As if he needs a reminder.
“‘M your pretty hubby,” Jin says. As if you need the reminder.
He’s your forever, and you’re his forever. Things between you both have always been relatively simple and easy. 
And this fact is no different.
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tags: @kentobean​ 
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Every part of you
Request: Something just fluffy and domestic would be so nice...missing that old man. Maybe something like baking with him? Fluffy smut or just fluff, I would be really happy to see you write either. 💕
Warnings: Smut, blowjob, p in v, unprotected sex, kitchen sex
Words count: 2,4k
Joel Miller x Reader. Insecure Joel. No virus, no apocalypse. Divorced!Joel.
* * * * *
After his divorce with Sarah’s mother, Joel entered years of celibacy, except for the occasional hookups. He didn’t want to go down that road again, his marriage wasn’t the best one but he loved his wife and expected it to last forever, like they promised each other.
But things changed when he met you over a year ago.
It was one of those nights where his brother Tommy dragged him to a bar. You were there with some friends and the first thing he noticed about you was your smoking hot body. And before he knew it, Tommy brought you to their table to have a drink with them.
It was supposed to be one of those hookups. No strings attached. In the morning, he would’ve left and you probably wouldn’t have never met again.
But he broke rule number one on the first night anyway: never take someone home. He always found a way to go to his partner's place, or at least, found a place to do it, but never at his place. His home.
Until you.
Once you were done, he realized how young and innocent you looked. He could see the struggle on your face, as to whether you should leave or stay. He felt bad about himself and told you to stay. You warmly smiled and faxed yourself under the covers, your warm form curled up against him.
In the morning, he woke up to the smell of coffee and French toast. As you had breakfast together, you told him a bit about yourself and Joel found himself to be interested.
You left your phone number and two weekends later - he spends every two weekends with his daughter - Joel invited you for a drink. Which turned into a few ones. Which turned into taking you home again.
That was over a year ago. Now, you’re moving in with him.
He didn’t expect for it to happen. It’s just that when you mentioned wanting to move out from your crappy apartment, he simply told you to come live with him and Sarah. His teenage daughter is very fond of you, and Joel is deeply in love with you. There’s no reason this could go wrong, is there?
But somehow, it caused your first fight.
It was hard to fit two homes into one, and Joel wasn’t compromising at all. He didn’t want to get rid of anything.
“You have to meet halfway, Jo.” You told him, clearly annoyed.
“I am. I just don’t want to get rid of my couch. What’s wrong with that?”
“Well, for starters, mine is fairly new, bigger and way more comfortable. But it’s not just about the couch. It feels like you don’t want me to move in after all,” you said with such sadness in your voice, Joel felt horrible.
“I asked, didn't I?” He answered, defensively.
“Probably because you felt bad about my struggle to find a new place. Just like you felt bad after our first night together.”
“…What?”
“I’m not stupid, Joel. I know you didn’t want me to stay at first.”
“But you did.”
“Well, yeah. Because it was my first time hooking up with someone I just met. And—“ you took a deep breath. “I really don’t want to compliment you right now, but the sex was—mind blowing.”
You obviously were still pretty mad but Joel couldn’t help but smirk in his beard. Sex with you is indeed pretty mind blowing. There’s love, trust, passion, and you’re open-minded concerning his kinks. He never witnessed that before. Actually, he discovered new kinks with you, pretty much like if you were his very own kink.
“Take that smirk off your face. That’s unfair.” You breathed out.
Joel closed the distance between your bodies, and gently kissed your forehead. “Letting you stay that night was the best decision I’ve made in a very long time,” he kissed your nose. “I’ll get rid of the couch.” Then he kissed your lips and moved to your neck. “Let’s ruin it before.”
You chuckled and you did ruin his old couch.
A few weeks later, you were all moved in. Joel was exhausted, he fell asleep on your - extremely - comfortable couch. You covered him with a blanket and took care of the last details before cooking dinner.
Your parents had been owners of a restaurant for the past thirty years, your father being the chef and your mother doing pretty much the rest. You spent most of your time in the establishment as a child, and your father happily shared his know-how with you.
In the past year, Joel had barely spent time in the kitchen, as it became your space. Not that he minded.
He does mind the weight he’d been gaining though.
He woke up to the smell of one of your dishes, two hours after falling asleep. He could hear you doing your thing in the kitchen. He smiled, stretched himself and when his mind seemed awake enough, he joined you.
You felt his strong arms wrapping your middle, and took advantage of your messy bun to plant wet and sloppy kisses in your exposed neck. You felt shivers all the way through your body. “Hi handsome. Sleep well on the couch?”
“Bite me.” He growled against your skin and you chuckled.
“Did that last night.” You said, referring to the bite mark you left right on top of his shoulder. He had made you cum so hard, you didn’t control yourself.
“I love when you mark me.” He whispered in your ear, nipping your ear lobe.
“Good, I’m taking you for a scarification tomorrow. My name, right above your penis.”
“Hmm,” Joel was still planting kisses anywhere he could and you could feel his growing erection against your ass. It was getting really difficult to focus on the marinade in front of you. “I can meet you halfway and agree to get a tattoo.” You laughed but somehow imagined it. It would ruin any relationship for him if you two ever break up. “Only if you do the same, obviously.” He added.
“You would like that, wouldn’t you?”
He hummed in answer and you felt his hand playing with the waistband of your sweatpants. But you slapped his hand away before he could slide it in. “Put your hands to other use for now. Cut the onions for me,” you playfully rubbed your ass against his crotch but only to push him away.
Joel let go of you and looked around to find the onions. “Wow. I like punishment but only if I know what I did wrong.”
You laughed before throwing two onions at him, which he almost missed. As he began to peel them off, you gently grabbed the knife from his hands and squeezed a lemon on the blade. Joel looked at you, lovingly. “There. You won’t cry.” You said, handing him the knife.
“Huh, we’ve been dating for a year and you’re only telling this trick, now? I thought you loved me.” He used his best complaining voice, and he felt your hand slamming against his ass.
“What will we talk about in ten years if I tell you everything now?” You casually asked and it caught Joel off guard. He stayed silent while cutting the onions in small squares and you didn’t push it. You focused on your marinade and checked on the steamed vegetables.
“Are you picturing us still together in ten years?” He finally asked once he was done. He gave you the bowl with the onions in it.
“Well—yeah. Don’t you?” You took the bowl from his hand, preparing the pan in order to cook them.
Joel sighed. It had been a struggle since you two started to date. Your relationship had been so perfect, you had been an amazing partner, it almost feels surreal to me. “I guess my marriage broke a part of me.” He paused, staring at you cooking. “It’s like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
As you ditched the onions in a hot pan, a soft smile appeared across your face. “That will happen when your alien friends will come to pick you up, in order to bring you back to your home planet.”
Joel couldn’t help but laugh. He couldn’t believe you were real. He stared for a moment. You are so beautiful, young, funny and smart, with the biggest heart. How did he got so lucky?
He jumped on the part of the kitchen plan you weren’t using. “Or when I got so fat from your cooking, you’re not attracted to me anymore.” He finally said and you stopped everything you were doing.
“…what?”
“I gained a few pounds lately.” He confessed, avoiding your eyes this time.
“Yeah so?”
“Oh so you’re agreeing? Not even something like ‘honey that’s crazy, you haven’t changed a bit.’?”
"I'm sorry. Let me do this again.” You took a step back and got into character. “Joel! Are you crazy? You didn’t gain any pounds. Are those masculine magazines making you feel bad, again?”
“Wow. Don’t quit your day job to become an actress.”
You playfully punched his shoulder and he let out an “ouch!”. “But seriously love,” it was your loving and smoothing tone again. “Do you really feel bad about this?”
“Kinda. I’m already older than you, I can’t have that too.”
“Baby,” you settled between his legs and tiptoed to kiss him softly. “You’re perfect to me. I don’t care about your age, your weight, your height, the size of your—okay that, I do care but still.”
Never a woman made him laugh like you manage to. No matter the subject, the time of the day, his mood or your mood, you’re always able to bring a smile to his face. He’s so in love with you. “Do you get my point or do I have to take you upstairs to show it to you?” You stroked his beard and Joel leaned into your touch, humming in content.
“I won’t mind the show. But I’d rather have you showing me—here.”
“I better stop cooking and focus on my other hobby then.” You turned off everything and invited him to get down. “My favorite actually.” You whispered, before kissing him gently.
“Please do.” He pleaded, sticking out his tongue in order to meet yours.
As you kissed, you brought him against the wall of the kitchen. He moaned at your sudden dominance, and you felt his semi hard cock against your belly. Joel tried to travel under your tank top with his hands but you prevented him access. You quickly worked taking his tee-shirt off, throwing it on the floor. Your lips immediately crashed against his hairy chest, while your hands were softly caressing it. “I love you, Joel.” you whispered against his skin. “I love every part of you that you don’t.”
It was overwhelming. Never in his life has Joel felt this loved, this attractive. It was such a mix of feelings, he could have cried on the spot as well as fucked you senseless. But he only stood there, panting hard as you were taking his sweatpants and briefs off. He stepped out and you threw it away, next to his shirt. He was dying to undress you, to feel your smooth skin against his, but he knew better.
You kneeled in front of you, taking his hard member in your hand. You looked up to him with your big and loving E/C eyes. “You’re everything I’ve ever dreamt of,” you said. “Call me crazy but I’d follow you to your damn home planet.” you confess, referring to what you said a moment ago.
Joel intensely stared at your mouth when you gave him a first lick. This view was so damn perfect.
You teasingly played with your tongue against his cock before taking him in your mouth. Joel moaned, deeply and you sucked him for a moment, not taking all of his length yet. Your jaw needed to relax first. No matter the amount of time you’ve seen his cock, you’re always amazed about how thick and long he is.
Joel’s hand grabbed your hair bun into his fists, guiding you. When you were ready, you took all of him inside your mouth, your nose buried in his pubic hair. “Fuck, baby!” he growled as his cock hit the back of your throat. “God I love your mouth so much.”
You kept going for a moment until you felt his urge growing. Joel was basically facefucking you, thrusting his cock deep inside your mouth. But you weren’t done with him yet, so when only a trail of saliva was connecting you to his length, you took advantage and got back on your feet.
You passionately kissed him, allowing him to taste himself. “Sit on the chair.” You ordered him and Joel obeyed.
You striped in front of him as he was lazily stroking his painfully hard cock. “You’re fucking gorgeous, Y/N.” he said before you straddle his lap.
“So are you, Joel.” He almost didn’t catch that - maybe because a part of him didn’t want to - as you guided his cock into your wet cunt. He was stretching you open, it almost hurt but you kept going until he was fully inside you.
“So fucking tight.” he growled against your neck.
You settled for a slow pace at first. Joel’s face was buried in your chest, assaulting your rounded breasts. One of his hands was in the small of your back, following your hips movements. “You feel so good inside me.” you moaned, your hands buried in his hair. He was so deep inside you, you two almost could hear every time he reached your end. “I’ll never be able to be with anyone else but you.”
His urge was coming back and yours was building up. You quickened the pace, and Joel furiously rubbed your clit with his hand. “Yes Joel, right there!” he looked up at you and crashed his lips on yours. You could feel his fingers digging on your hip, while yours did the same on his scalp.
“I’m gonna cum.” he warned you, thrusting as fast as he could.
“Me, too. Don’t stop,”
“Never.”
It was a closed call but you came practically at the same time, both crying each other’s name.
You stayed in the same position as you and Joel came down from your high. You held him close against you, feeling his cock softening inside you. You were both panting. “Every part of me, huh?” he said.
“Every single one.”
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thirsty-flygirl · 3 years
Text
Touch Me
Formerly The Textile Series
A Javier Peña x f! Reader Romance
Rating: Explicit - language, sex, drugs, rock ‘n’ roll. You know the drill, no one under 18 allowed.
Word Count: 2168
A/N: Look, it’s no secret that I would let Javi absolutely ruin me so here is The Textile Series, back again with a few changes, so I can simp some more over my favorite DEA agent.
******
Part IV: Leather
You slammed the shot glass down, proudly popping the lemon between your salt-swollen lips. Tequila always tasted good and, with one of Escobar’s most notorious sicarios now in US custody, it tasted even better.
“C’mon, Javi, take a shot with me,” you shouted across Murphy to your other partner, who offered you his signature smirk, the corner of his lips lifting as he regarded you. Steve placed a palm against your face and playfully pushed you back, grimacing.
“Christ, woman, you’re gonna make me go deaf,” he complained. You poked a finger into his ribs, gleefully watching as he doubled over. “Ah! No tickling, that’s not playing fair and you know it.” He clambered off the barstool and pointed to the now-empty seat. “Sit. That way you don’t have to scream at Javi.”
You shuffled about and made yourself comfortable on the stool, offering Javier a grin. His smirk shifted into a full-blown smile, that sweet little dimple popping, and your stomach flipped at the sight. Your feelings for Javier were getting out of control, strengthening each day you spent together. You’d nearly kissed him right there at the President’s ball last night, in front of your superiors, not giving a second thought to the damage it could affect on your career. You had worked hard, damn hard, to get where you are, despite the sexism and harassment you’d received because you were a woman. Hell, Steve and Javier were two of only a few men you could think of that didn’t treat you like your only worth was between your legs.
But there you were, hunting down Colombia’s most notorious drug lord, and all could do was simper like a teenager every time Javi smiled.
“You’re drunk,” Javi offered, shifting in his seat to lean on the bar next to you. His elbow brushed against yours, leaving your skin tingling from where your bare skin met. As usual, the top buttons of his shirt were undone, leaving his chest on display. Your eyes roved over his form hungrily, slipping down to see the smattering of dark hair on his chest, before settling on his gorgeous face.
Up close, Javier was disarmingly beautiful. His dark hair fell over his forehead as he leaned into you, eyes searching yours as though they could see every secret etched on your heart. A smattering of freckles dotted his face, barely visible, but you had stared so long and so hard at him that you had every perfect imperfection memorized. His hand wrapped loosely around his tumbler of whiskey and you couldn’t help but imagine that hand wrapped around yours, tethering you to him as you finally gave into your desires.
“I’m not,” you finally managed, finding yourself inching closer to him, a coil of desperate need beginning to unfurl within you. Taking his glass, you let your fingers brush against his, watching his pupils dilate. You took a sip of the biting liquor, letting it trail a path of fire down your throat. “I’m just feeling good.”
Javi reached up to wipe a drop of whiskey from your lips with his thumb, raising an eyebrow. “Feeling good, hmm? And why’s that?”
You let out a soft whimper at his touch, just loud enough for Javier to feel the vibration on your skin. His eyes darkened and he let out a deep sigh. “You’re gonna get me in fucking trouble one of these days.”
The two of you sat staring stupidly at each other, as though you were the only two people in the crowded bar. Heart pounding and cunt throbbing, you let your fingers settle on his thigh, trailing them toward the seam of his jeans and so close to the place you felt pressed against you last night.
You leaned forward and closed the distance, whispering in your partner’s ear “I heard you like—”
“—Okay, it’s time to go,” Steve thrust his arm between the two of you, setting his empty beer bottle on the worn, wood bar with a loud thump. You and Javi sprung apart like kids caught necking, a wave of embarrassment crashing over you along with the realization that you had been so wrapped up in Javier that you’d forgotten you were in public.
Javi pulled back like he’d been punched, the naked desire written on his face shifting back into a closed, unaffected expression. Nodding at Steve, he avoided your eyes and stood.
“Yeah, it’s late.”
Your stomach lurched at the speed with which Javi could turn off any sign of being interested in you. It was like hot and cold with him, and you were starting to wonder if he even thought of you as more than a potential fuck. You weren’t blind; you knew exactly how your partner managed to get such reliable intel. It wasn’t like you could fault him - you had no claim on him and you knew he was just trying to get one step ahead of Escobar. But the thought of his body bringing another woman the kind of pleasure that you could only imagine, while you lay in your bed at night writhing on your fingers? That was enough to send a wave of jealousy surging through your veins.
You clambered off the stool, leading the way to the door in silence. If Javi wasn’t affected by you, well, you could at least act as if you felt the same. You emerged from the warm bar into the cool night air sweeping over your heated skin like a balm. You continued walking down the street toward the Embassy apartments; the bar wasn’t far from where all of you lived and, while Steve had driven over after work, you wanted to clear your head a bit. Decidedly ignoring their calls to “get in the damn car” (Javi’s words, not yours), you managed to get nearly a block before a hand closed over your elbow.
“What the hell are you doing?” Javi demanded, his dark eyes flicking around to the dark, run-down buildings surrounding you. As much as you wanted to fall into his arms, you pulled away and continued meandering down the street toward your apartment.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” you called back flippantly, “I’m walking home!”
Javi groaned in a mixture of exasperation and defeat, jogging a few steps to catch up to you. “Not alone, you aren’t,” he muttered, mostly to himself. “Here, at least take my jacket,” he ordered, shrugging off his worn, leather coat and placing it around your chilled shoulders. He sighed loudly as you continued walking, calling after you. “You’re a pain in my ass, you know that?”
You spun around in a circle with your arms out, laughing into the night. “I’m a pain in YOUR ass? Javier Peña, you are, without a doubt, the most confusing, irritating man I’ve ever met!” You continued down the street shaking your head and laughing into the night while you continued your rant.
"What I don't understand," you threw over your shoulder in his direction, "is how you can just change direction and act like we don't have anything here. . . like you weren’t about five seconds from fucking me right there in the bar. . . .” Trailing off, you felt the fight leave you. Exhaustion crept through you in its place, and all you wanted now was to get home and sleep your buzz off.
“Hell, maybe I’m just imagining things,” you mumbled tiredly.
You heard Javi's steps come up beside yours, somehow felt his warmth even from feet away. You hated the feeling of tears building in your eyes. The last thing you wanted was to be an emotional wreck in the face of Javi's aloofness. His warm hand closed around your elbow once again, but this time you let him pull you back.
“You think this is just some goddamn game to me?” Javier whispered fiercely, tugging your arm so that you fell forward against him. His free arm curled around your waist, holding you in an approximation of the exact position you had been in while dancing last night.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he gritted out, those deep, brown eyes glittering with fire. Javi brought his hand up to cup the back of your neck, holding you in place while he continued, and all you could do was stand there, transfixed by his words and the sheer emotion behind them. “You think it’s easy for me to stay away? To act like I’m not thinking about you every goddamn minute of the day?" He shook his head with a defeated expression.
“All I want is to have you,” he continued, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin just under your ear. He paused and your eyes fluttered closed, waiting for the moment when you would finally feel his lips on yours.
Without warning, he released you, leaving you cold and wanting as your eyes flew open. Looking at his face, you saw pain etched in every line, agony reflecting in his eyes.
“But I can’t give you what you want.”
He turned away, looking down the street, jaw clenched. You felt tears prick your eyes, frustrated with his words. “Javi,” you began, reaching out, “You’re what I want, I don’t need—”
“No,” he insisted, refusing to meet your eyes. “I need to catch Escobar, that’s the only thing that matters. I’ve been so distracted and I—” He broke off, his hand coming up to massage at his neck in a gesture so familiar it hurt. He dropped his head with a frustrated sigh and gently pushed at your shoulder.
“Come on, we need to get home.”
You let Javier walk a few steps ahead of you, mind spinning and heart squeezing painfully in your chest. You had felt so warm in his arms, so alive, like every one of your nerve endings buzzed when you were pressed against his body. Now, even with the worn leather of Javi’s jacket pulled around you, you felt chilled, lonely, incomplete.
Down deep, you knew Javier Peña was a selfless man. He wanted to do good, be good, but always felt like he was falling short. He had one mission in Colombia: to capture Pablo Escobar. Anything beyond that was unnecessary, a distraction; something you understood well.
But your heart was selfish - you wanted both. To find Escobar and have him extradited and locked up with a maximum sentence, definitely. But on those lonely nights and the moments in-between when you could imagine something other than the gritty underworld of Colombian drug trafficking, you wanted Javier. Wanted his arms around you, his mouth against yours. You wanted to trace the lines of his neck with your tongue, wanted to run your hands down his torso, then lower, lower, until you breathlessly gripped him and slid down, finally finding home in the middle of the madness.
At an impasse and emotionally drained, you stayed silent for the remainder of your walk, watching Javi turn his key in the security door and shuffling in behind him. You began up the stairs, the feeling of Javier’s gaze burning through you, before you remembered the coat curled around your body.
“Oh, I forgot,” you mumbled, moving to the bottom step while shrugging the garment off. You held it out to Javier, keeping your eyes on the floor, silently begging him to just take it so you could lock yourself in your apartment and break down in private.
“Keep it,” Javi replied, the gravel in his voice still sending a thrill of arousal through your body despite the fact that you felt like he was slipping away from you. "Something to remember me by when we get out of this shithole."
You smiled sadly, reaching out to place a hand gently against his chest, your palm settled over the steady beat of his heart.
Javier stared at you, the longing in his eyes so tangible you couldn't stop the tears from falling. He gently swiped them from your cheeks, a sad smile on his lips.
"Don't cry over me, Sweetheart. I'm not worth your tears."
He leaned in to place a chaste kiss on your cheek, letting his full lips linger for a moment before taking a step back, the inches between you feeling like an impassable chasm. You stood silently, afraid that the tenuous grip you held on your emotions would break if you tried to speak. Javier turned and entered his apartment, never giving you a backwards glance, and you were left standing on the stairs alone.
With no reason to hold back you let your tears fall, your knees giving way as you sat down hard on the dirty step beneath you. You buried your face in the bundle of soft leather you held, weeping over a love you never had in the first place. Eventually, once your sobs calmed, you made your way up the stairs to your apartment and fell into bed exhausted, still clutching Javier’s jacket in your arms.
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daisiesandshakes · 3 years
Note
hey bestie, this is my first request I'm giving you bc I had a idea. a little stupid but it be like that sometimes. so, in the ikemen fandom we have mc. what if she has an older sister that also got dragged into the drama? and how would the ikevamp suitors react to mc having a protective yet crackheaded sister? (no, I'm not putting my personality in here, wym?)
Hi dear!
Thank you so much for your request 💖💖💖 it was so much fun to write it! Sorry you had to wait though 😔 I really, really hope it's the way you thought it, hope you like it!
Ikevamp suitors reaction
to the appearance
of MC's older sister
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One evening on a crescent moon a yell disturbs the pleasant dinner at the mansion. Sebastian almost drops his plate and Le Comte sighs.
"Sebastian, would you be so kind to welcome our new guest?"
But before Sebastian is able to make a step outside of the dining room, a young woman rushes inside, dragging a wide-eyed Napoleon with her.
"Where the hell am I??? And why keeps this wretch saying he is Napoleon BONAPARTE?"
"B- but I AM Napoleon..."
With a graceful and warm smile Le Comte stands up "Ma cherie, please- "
"I am everything but your cherry... or whatever" she huffs, Arthur spits out his water.
At this moment MC enters the dining room from the kitchen, glaring in shock at the other woman and screams "SIS!!"
"MC!!! Is it really you?" Both girls hurries over to embrace each other, crying.
The residents watch the scene in silence, mouth hanging open. Vincent has already tears in his eyes, Mozart thinks about to move closer to the town, maybe it's less noisy there?
After a few minutes MC introduces the other girl "This is my older sister (...) and I am sure she's very pleased to meet you-"
"Wait, what? No. NO WAY"
MC looks bewildered "But-"
"You disappeared months ago! I am NOT pleased to meet those filthy men! What did they do to you? Are they kidnappers? Oh, I know. You were sold to them and now you're brainwashed... Stockholm syndrome. I've read about that..."
The whole time MC tries to interrupt her sister, but can't stop the rambling.
"I'll take you with me now sweety, your big sis is here to protect you now" (...) yanks MC in a tight embrace while she glares daggers to the residents.
"But we can't go now" MC mumbles at her shoulder.
"What did you say sweety?"
MC breaks free from her embrace, gasping for air. "Would you listen to me?? We can't go now. And I don't WANT to go."
Now it's (...) turn to look bewildered. "Umm.. But.. Explain."
MC sighs. "Our dear Comte would have explained earlier, but you didn't give him-"
"Oh. A rich Count. So I was right..."
"WOULD YOU SHUT UP AND LISTEN??" MC yells.
Mozart looks like he has bitten into a lemon, squeezing his eyes shut.
MC strokes over her skirt, then pulls out a chair. "Have a seat"
"O- okay..."
"And this time you ONLY listen."
(...), not used to the fact that her little sister gives commands, only nods and Le Comte begins to introduce everyone at the dining table. When he comes to the end everyone waits for her reaction. After a few seconds with a straight face (...) breaks into a loud laughter, tears are rolling down her cheeks. Between giggles she manages to ask Comte: "And who are you? Le Comte is only your code name, huh? Oh I know... YOU are King Arthur!" Slamming her hands on the table she laughs again uncontrollable, almost sliding off the chair.
"May I bite this pretty bird for a demonstration, Comte?" Arthur asks.
"I would bite her only to shut her up" Mozart says, rolling his eyes.
"NO ONE bites my sister!" MC mumbles angrily.
"MC, I can't believe you are going along with that fairytale?"
"(...) that's not a fairytale! I swear!"
(...) sighs. "Okay, I have to use the bathroom. Where can I find it?"
MC explains the way to her sister and after she left the dining room she apologizes to the residents "I know she can be complicated..."
"A- are you sure she's your sister?" Isaac blushes. "She's so different."
MC escapes a giggle "Yeah, I know..." suddenly a loud thud and a muffled scream comes from the dark hallway. Everybody raises up from their chair and rushes over, Leonardo switches the light on.
Jean sits on the floor, holding his bleeding nose while (...) stands with shaky legs at the wall, the hands at her throat "That crazy woman tried to bite me!" she explains with a faint voice.
Napoleon helps Jean to stand up and Sebastian already reaches a bottle of blanc over. "Here Jean, drink it. Why are you doing this to yourself?" Napoleon says softly.
"That's not a woman. That's a man." MC tries to calm her sister down. "And he didn't mean to hurt you. He's starving and-"
"HE? HE tried to bite me!? He's a fucking vampire?!"
"Yes (...), as Comte told you."
"We're surrounded by fucking vampires??"
"Yes honey. As Comte told you. BUT they won't harm us."
"BUT HE TRIED TO BITE ME!"
Jean emptied the bottle with blanc and bows now to (...) "Mademoiselle, my apologies. That won't happen again. I beg your pardon." And after a kiss on the back of her hand Jean disappeares in the hallway.
(...) stares at her hand "Oh..."
"Honey, can we go back to the dining room again?" (...) only nods.
Everybody takes seat again and (...) seems to be less confident.
"Why did you have to blow poor Jean a bloody nose, hondje?" Theodorus asks in his usual harsh tone, (...) chokes on her water.
"Hey! Krijg de pest, klootzak!" she answers fervid, "I thought I was going to die and I AM NOT your hondje!" After staring at her for seconds in disbelief Theo's ears tint red and he looks down on his plate. Arthur chuckles, thinking it could be a refreshing month.
Out of the blue the window behind MC and her sister opens and Dazai arrives.
(...) notices only a sound and a shadow behind her, feeling threatened she turns half around, graps his kimono, pulling Dazai down. Surprised he reaches out and draws her with him. Lying on top of him, noses almost touching, she stares into his eyes. "And who are you? Spiderman?"
"Who? No, I am only Dazai, I came for dinner. I hope you are not too disappointed?" an enchanting, mischievous smile appears on his lips.
"B- but why didn't you use the door, like everyone else?"
"I am not like everyone else, Toshiko-san. Where is the fun by using a door?"
A bright smile lightens her features and (...) stands up again, lending Dazai her hand to get up. "I think it could be fun here." Not breaking eye contact they both take their seat and MC giggles.
On the outside of the mansion Shakespeare enters his carriage. Watching the whole drama through the window, he is thinking about skipping dinner invitations for the next month.
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Text
Little Bones 6
Warnings: non-consent sex and rape, anger, humiliation, control.
This is dark! (biker) Thor x chubby!reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Series Synopsis: You’re a city girl stuck in a small town, but Birch isn’t as sleepy as it seems.
Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown and When the Weight Comes Down
Note: This is likely the second to last chapter in this series! I’m excited to have another Birch series finished in the near future! And then I can work on Loki’s installment because you all are so dang convincing.
Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)
I really hope you enjoy. 💋
<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!
MASTERLIST
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Chapter 6: I can cry, beg and whine
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Thor was insatiable. That was the only word you could think to describe him but it didn’t feel strong enough. His hunger, his persistence, his complete control over you was indescribable. He held your apartment, your job, your very existence in his grip. 
You woke up to him beside you in your double bed, too small for both of you but it only gave him a reason to be on top of you. You went to work late more days than not that week. And even when you didn’t go home to find him on your couch, he wasn’t long behind. 
There was no hiding from him in Birch and there was no way out. It was a truth you denied for too long because you weren’t from there. But it wasn’t about the town, it wasn’t the town that trapped you. It was the people, it was the attitude. It was those bikers.
Friday came and he was there waiting but he wasn’t sprawled out on your sofa as usual. He wore his colours, ready to go somewhere. 
He combed his fingers through the tails of his blond hair as you unzipped your jacket and set your bag on the shoe rack. He checked himself in the mirror that hung along the entryway and planted his hand on the wall as he leaned over you.
“Put on something nice,” he purred as he grabbed your chin and tilted your face towards him, “if it wasn’t so cold, I’d say something slutty.”
You didn’t have a chance to grimace before he kissed you. You swallowed your revulsion and waited for him to let you go. As you knelt to remove your boots, he tickled along the back of your head.
“Mmm, I’m almost tempted to let you stay down there,” he taunted, “but we’re already late.”
“Late for what?” you stood and brushed past him. He followed closely and groped your ass. You were almost used to his incessant touching.
“I got business tonight,” he said.
“Your business,” you insisted as you entered the bedroom. You made no move to change and sat on the bed as you rubbed your eyes, “I have no interest in whatever it is you deal in and I��m dead tired.”
“I know I’ve been��� hard on you,” he smirked as there was no true remorse in his tone, “but how am I supposed to help myself?”
You looked at him sharply and snarled. “I really don’t feel like going to the bar--”
“We’re not going down there,” he interrupted, “but the girls are expecting you.”
He went to the closest and slid open the door. You shook your head at the wall and didn’t move. You knew there was no arguing with him. It made your blood boil. You hated that feeling of helplessness. You hated his kind of men and how they used women like things, painting their desires as your own.
“This is nice,” he tossed a forgotten pair of leggings with leather strips along the side on the bed and a silver top with trumpet sleeves slit along the inside, “bet your ass looks wonderful in those.”
“Can’t I have one night--”
“It’s business. The women have their time and we have ours. Get up.” He said sternly, “though I don’t mind helping you into these.”
He lifted the leggings and stretched the high elastic waist and bit his lip. You stood and snatched them from him. He did not leave, didn’t even back away as you turned and dropped them back on the bed. You stripped off your wool pants and the striped blouse. 
You wiggled into the leggings, embarrassed at how your ass jiggled and he purred in response. The top was tight across your tits and pushed them up dangerously against the neckline. You never wore it because that very reason; too much attention where you didn’t need it.
“See,” he snapped his knuckles against your ass, “sexy as hell.”
“You gonna tell me where we’re going?” you asked as you crossed your arms.
“Just a little get together,” he framed your face with his large hands, “with your Birch boys.”
He said nothing else as he latched onto your arm and turned to drag you behind him. You barely lifted your feet in your reluctance but you sensed his impatience growing. You contented yourself that in the least he would be distracted by other people long enough to leave you alone for just a few minutes.
💀
The motorcycle ripped through the early evening air and you shivered against his back. The air was still bitter but the roads were cleared of snow enough to maneuver the steel beast. He drove out of town and along the country roads, those were more treacherous than the main row.
You pulled up to the farmhouse, the old lot recently renewed as the house shone from within. Thor slowed and killed the engine. He flipped out the kickstand and nudged you. You climbed off and he followed your lead. He shoved the keys in his pocket and unstrapped his helmet as he let out a ‘brrr’.
“Come on,” he nodded to the porch steps as you undid your own helmet. 
You walked up to the house and he knocked. He took your helmet from you as you waited for an answer. You heard voices and the approach of footsteps from the other side. The door opened and Steve’s girl smiled out at you and pushed open the screen door.
“Oh! You’re here!” She chimed, “I used your mother’s lemon meringue recipe. And oh,” she beamed at you, “we haven’t seen you lately.”
“Work,” you said, it wasn’t exactly a lie, “it’s nice to see you, too. I’m sorry I didn’t bring anything, I--”
“I have everything under control,” she clapped her hands, “we’re just trying to figure out the shaker. Come in.”
She backed up and Thor held the door as you passed through first. You took your boots off at the mat and she beckoned you further in. “Thor, the guys are just in the living room,” she pointed to her left, “we’re in the kitchen,” she motioned behind her, “working on dinner.”
“Mmm,” you grumbled and nodded. Before you could step forward, Thor caught you and drew you back to him. He kissed you and you bore it in simmering humiliation.
“Have fun,” he squeezed your ass and let you go as he turned to find the other men.
You huffed and turned your attention to Steve’s girl as she waited awkwardly. She rubbed her hands together as she walked with your down the hallway. “Steve’s like that, you know? Touchy feely. I get so… embarrassed…” her voice trailed off, “sorry, I shouldn’t--”
“I always wondered about you and him. You’re an odd pair,” you said.
“Well, it’s not anything I expected but, um… well, this is our house--” she gestured around her as she led you into the kitchen, “you know, he bought it for me.”
“Hey, don’t change the subject,” you said a bit too tersely, “you said Steve embarrasses you but you--”
“And Thor does it to you so… you know that’s how they are,” she squeaked.
“All of them,” Bucky’s girl said and you only noticed her as she shook the metal shaker, “it’s why we need alcohol.”
You exhaled and came up to the counter as Steve’s girl went to the stove and lifted the lid on the skillet to stir the contents, “please, don’t put a lot of gin in mine. I don’t do well with alcohol.”
You leaned on the marble as you watched the other woman pour the bright pink liquid into a finely shaped glass on a stem, “looks better than last time.” She turned and set it beside the stove for the hostess.
“So…” you frowned as you thought and she began to measure gin and all the other ingredients before her, “why are you with them--”
“Why are you with Thor?” she interrupted, “we saw how much you hate him at the bar. We felt the same but don’t act stupiid like you don’t know what’s going on. These men are given everything they want and when they aren’t they take it anyway.”
“He takes care of my ma, though--” Steve’s girl intoned.
“And that makes it all hunky dorey,” the other sneered, “she sucks at saying it out loud but she can’t stand Steve as much as we can’t stand the rest of them.”
The other woman was quiet as she replaced the lid and reached for the drink. She fidgeted and looked down at her frilly apron. She was dressed like some housewife out of the suburban fifities, although her dress was still uncomfortably short.
“What good does it do to say it?” she mumbled.
Bucky’s girl mixed another cocktail and poured it pristinely before she slid it over to you, “I’m getting the hang of this but I’m happy the men are sticking to beer. My arm’s getting tired.”
You took the glass and tasted the drink. You hummed as it surprised you. “Aren’t you a bartender?”
“Server. I open beers and believe it or not but they don’t serve margaritas down at The Asp.”
You shrugged and kept drinking as she made her own drink and turned to rest her elbow on the counter lazily.
“I should’ve warned you. Not that it would’ve helped but I could’ve,” she said.
“No, it doesn’t matter. It’s like you said. They take whatever they want. Nothing we can do, is there?”
You were silent as you all sipped. The gin warmed your chest and you let it sink into your veins. Your commiseration was grim but comforting. To think that you weren’t entirely alone was as heartening as it was saddening.
💀
The alcohol heightened your irritation as dinner ended. You were left to help clear the table in your matronly duties with the other women. You were insulted at the outdated binary of the arrangements and it felt less like a get together and more of a job.
The men, Steve, Bucky, Thor, and Loki returned to the living room and their voices threaded the air as the dishes clinked in your grasp. The blonde biker’s brother was unexpected but he seemed just unhappy to be there as you. There were a few minutes during the meal where you sympathised with him as he rolled his eyes and failed to hide any ounce of his spite for Thor.
When you finished up, Steve’s girl took several more beers to the men before she returned to grab her glass of water. You took the vodka cooler, your third drink of the night, and went along with them to the living room.
You hung back as Steve’s girl neared him and was drawn down beside him impatiently, his arm around her shoulders as he almost spilled her water. Bucky’s girl sat beside him and tolerated his arm around her waist though he was less clingy than his accomplice. Loki stood by the window and stared out into the dull snow as Thor perched in the cozy armchair.
You went to sit beside Steve’s girl but you were stopped by a tut. 
“I’ve got a seat for you, kitten,” Thor slurred. The beer was thick in his voice, as potent as the liquor in your stomach. You turned to him as he rubbed his thigh.
“I’m fine, here,” you insisted and his smile fell.
“You know I wasn’t asking, kitty,” he warned, “come on and be a good girl. We’re guests. Let’s not make a scene.”
You stood in front of the couch and glared at him. You sighed softly and pushed your shoulders back. You marched over to him and turned your bottle to splash it over his front. You acted surprised at your feigned clumsiness and took a step back.
“Oops,” you uttered coyly, “how careless--”
He was up on his feet in a moment as he slammed his own bottle down on the small table beside the chair. He knocked yours from your hand entirely and the air stilled with tension. His blue eyes flared as he grabbed your wrist.
“Better help me get cleaned up,” he growled and looked over your shoulder, “excuse us.”
You resisted him for a moment but he yanked and nearly took you off your feet. He spun and kept hold of you as he forced you after him and stormed from the room. You stumbled out into the hall behind him and he flung you ahead of him. 
He gripped the back of your neck and ripped open a door to his right. He shoved you inside and you hit the sink as the clasp clicked loudly. He crowded you in the half bath as you braced yourself against the porcelain, the scent of beer tingling in your nostrils. You stared at his dark shirt, stained with his drink.
“I thought I trained you better, kitten,” he snarled, “just when I thought you were starting to purr.”
“Fuck you,” you said as the alcohol thinned the filter between your thoughts and your words.
“Oh, I can make that happen,” he hissed as he lifted the hem of his shirt and tore it off. He hung it over the towel bar and felt along his damp torso, “I can’t let you bite and not give you a good swat for it.”
“Don’t be an ass. It’s a drink. You can’t just talk to me like that. I’m not some animal--”
“Shhh,” he hushed as he covered your mouth and pushed you against the sink, “I’m not listening. That’s not how this works…” he leaned in and lowered his voice, “you realise how bad this is? You challenged me in front of men; I won’t have it. We’re past niceties, kitten.”
His hands slipped over your hips and to your ass. He scooped you up and rested you atop the porcelain as he crushed his body against yours. He grabbed your chin and smothered your lips with his as he rolled his pelvis against you.
His hand fell and crawled along your throat. You turned your head away and gasped as his fingers hooked under the elastic of your leggings.
“What are you--”
“Don’t play dumb,” he nipped at your throat, “we’ve done this enough.”
“Not here,” you pushed on his shoulders, “you can’t--”
“I can do--” his other hand fell to your waist and he gripped the elastic, “whatever--” his hands snaked around you as his fingers slid between the fabric and your skin, “I want.”
He ripped your leggings down with your panties and forced them down your legs. He pulled until your legs wet bent in front of you and you were curled awkwardly atop the sink as you struggled with him.
“Stop-- I’ll be good--”
“Too late,” he shoved his hand between your legs and felt around roughly. 
The fabric of your leggings trapped your thighs and kept you bent against him painfully as he hunched over you. He pulled his hand away to fumble with his fly and shifted as he pushed down his zipper. He set his feet firmly and hooked his other arm around you as he pressed his tip along your folds.
He guided himself blindly over your cunt, his beer-laced breath choked you as your head spun. He rested his forehead against yours as your head was propped up against the mirror. He lined himself up with your opening and thrust bluntly inside of you. You exclaimed in surprise as the intrusion blazed through you.
You were drunk enough that it felt good but you were aware enough of what was happening. You slapped him and his head snapped to the side. He pulled back and slammed into you even deeper. He brought his lips to yours again and kissed you sloppily as he rocked against you. The counter groaned under both of your weight as you tried to hold in your voice.
He sped up as your breath quickened in time with his. You closed your eyes as he once more descended to your through and kissed and nipped at your skin. His hips tilted into you steadily as you wriggled against him.
He pushed his hand between your bodies and pressed two fingers to your clit. He rubbed as he kept his pace and you murmured as your drunken body responded. You dug your nails into his shoulders and your feet arched as the ripple began to flow over you. Your peak rose fast and you cried out without restraint as it took you off guard.
His own grunts added the furor and he moved faster atop you. His knee hit the front of the counter and he sunk to his limit as he quaked. He stopped and held himself as deep as he could, sliding back slowly only to ease back in as he came in long strokes.
He stopped and rested his head in the crook of your neck, his blond hair falling forward as he caught his breath. You shuddered and nudged his shoulders until he stood. He slipped out of you and sent a chill up your spine. Your body fell limp and you dropped from the counter onto shaky legs.
You felt his cum trickle down your thigh as he reached for the toilet paper and wiped himself clean. Your vision hazed as you reached for some as well and kept the mess from dripping into your panties. He cleared his throat and turned to examine his wet tee shirt. You pulled up your leggings and sniffed.
 It was all so sudden it was as if nothing had happened at all. You held yourself up against the wall and a knock came from the door. He opened it without pretense and greeted Steve’s girl as she peered inside nervously and glanced at you briefly. 
She held a folded shirt in her hands as she blinked meekly. She knew, they all knew. You had no doubt that they’d heard it all.
“Um, hopefully this fits,” she said as she handed the tee shirt to him, “and, we… we’re just about to have dessert.”
“Great. I’ve got quite the appetite,” he replied, “we’ll be out soon.”
He closed the door and turned back to look at himself in the mirror. He brushed past you so you were flush to the wall as he pulled on the shirt. It was too tight around his thick arms and his broad chest. He tidied his hair and rolled his shoulders as he admired his reflection.
“I think now you’ll be good, kitten,” he winked and reached to touch your cheek cloyingly, “best not to get my hackles up again.”
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