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fullofbees · 1 year

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Camera Exposure

Lucifer has a rule against taking his picture for a reason. When you violate the rule, he makes sure to show you just how exposing it can be.

TW: Extremely Dubious Consent, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Non-Consensual Exhibitionism, Spit, Spanking, Hair Pulling

Word Count: 3,882

»»----------► Reader is Female

Tonight was a rare occasion. Fingers dig into your hips, lazily guiding your hips up and down. Whispered praises fall from Lucifer’s lips with each drag of your cunt along his cock, his head falling back against the pillow.

No talons, horns, or fangs. No ropes, whips, or chains. He was too exhausted, too stressed from unspecified work from Diavolo that you practically had to drag him to bed. Undoing the buttons to his uniform, you complimented his dedication to the future King, to his brothers, and to you. Hands brush against his smooth skin as they slide underneath the fabric of his shirt, your affirmations stroking his ego and stoking the flames of his Pride.

He kisses the top of your head once you pull his belt from his waist, his fingers finding the underside of your chin to pull your gaze to his. You smile, soft and sweet, telling him that tonight is about him.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” you punctuate with a kiss to his knuckles, “Let’s take our time tonight.”

You're surprised at how quickly he had settled into this variation on his role; no less dominant than before, but much more indulgent in what you were willing to give. He’s taken every teasing grind, kiss, and touch without complaint, a far cry from the demon that is able to control your body without a single spell. A sinful shade of pink blooms across his face and down his neck where it meets the red lines your nails etched into his chest. His eyes are shut tight, soft pants welcoming you with every thrust.

Even in the throes of passion, he always managed to be handsome. Elegant. Bewitching. Dare say… angelic. Truly a rare sight indeed.

You wish there was a way to capture this moment forever, to have a keepsake of the time when you saw Lucifer at his most peaceful, and under your mercy no less. But, if the numerous times Mammon has ended up dangling from the ceiling, and the very clear verbal threats from Lucifer are anything to go by, pictures of your darling demon are forbidden. A nasty punishment would surely be your fate, not the fun kind he normally subjected you to in his bed, but an arduous lecture where you will more likely die from old age before ever seeing its end.

Still… one little photo couldn’t hurt, right? It’s not like you would be so brazen as to set it as your screensaver. No, it would only be for you.

Brushing a few stray hairs away from your face and shifting your legs ever so wider, it’s almost embarrassing how easily your body bends to accommodate his impressive stature. Almost. Pressed chest to chest, his skin feels like fire, engulfing you with what felt like the embers of the Devildom itself. No fire raged as intensely as he did, yet no love could be as radiant. A perfect union between celestial glory and the impervious demon you knew him as now.

His hands slip to your thighs, cabernet nails decorating half moons on your body. Eyes crack open with your change in position, always curious and eager to thwart the tricks up your sleeve. You press your lips to his, hopefully hiding your true intentions with the guise of human adoration.

It’s often that you wonder if he misses it. Heavenliness. You’ve never seen what Lucifer, The Morning Star, Lightbringer, looked like. Simeon delighted you with stories of the angel he knew, Michael’s right-hand man, and how, angel or demon, Lucifer never stopped fretting over his brothers. You knew angels often had to quell human anxieties with “Be not afraid”, but if the angel was supposedly more magnificent than his demon self, you cannot understand why they’d be afraid.

Of course, now you understand why humans trembled with fear. If a man with four inky black wings and serpentine horns appeared before you without prelude, you’d cry too. That’s why you try, even when his abyssal rage swirls around him, to lavish praise and tribute upon him. Devildom may be home to him now, but there’s always a doubt about how comfortable he feels away from the purpose he was created for. You kiss your human infatuation, weakness, and worship into him every chance you can. Perhaps, this way, you feel like home to him.

You have him right where you want him. Eyes slip back shut as he basks in your devotion, but your gaze is focused on where your D.D.D sits on the bedside table. As careful as you can manage with his cock hitting just right where you need it, your hand reaches out for your phone. Once in your grasp, your lips part from his, but you still pepper kisses to his nose, forehead, and cheeks. Your plans would be ruined if he opened his eyes, but the privacy of his bedroom is one of the few places where your love doesn’t need to be tamed, so the kisses serve their purpose of distraction and freedom.

With a soft moan, you return to your original position, hand pushing your phone into the mattress as you return to fucking him in earnest.

A breathy, “fuck,” falls from his lips. Your own groans and pants resume, shaky hands unlocking your D.D.D and opening the camera, eyes darting between him and the screen.

Just a… little more… Your thumb hovers over the button as the camera shifts into focus. You’re so close.

The shutter sounds.

In an instant, the phone is snatched from your grip, wrist locked in the bruising grip of his other hand.

“What,” he grits, “do you think you’re doing?”

“Luci, it’s not what you - Oh!” He silences you with a knock of your hands against the headboard. You’re under him now, his imposing shadow growing as the wings unfurl from his back and horns twisting towards the ceiling. Talons cut sharp into your skin now, and fangs glint dangerously within his snarl.

“Did Mammon put you up to this?"

"No! Lucifer, please, just let me explain!" You push against his hold despite knowing that such action is futile. His hand constricts tighter. His gaze sharpens, a silent threat to stay still.

"Our night was going splendidly, dear," he sighs wistfully, "So you better have a good excuse for ruining it."

You visibly gulp, staring up into the inferno that blazed in his eyes. "Y-you looked so peaceful, so relaxed... I'd never seen you like that before..."

"You're right," he says, "It's almost impossible to relax when your brothers and a meddling human cause endless trouble."

A stinging sensation burns in your chest at that comment, reverberating in the hollows of your ribcage. Still, you muster the strength to keep your face relatively neutral and summon the last shred of your confidence.

"I wanted to remember you like that," you whimper, "I never wanted to forget this night."

"Who are you to say this was the last time?"

"It's not the last time, but that's the point, Luci, that it was the first. I wanted- a souvenir, I guess- of the first time I made you feel like that."

It doesn't matter what kind of being answered your prayer, but you thank them nonetheless as his hands release their grip. A huff of annoyance escapes him as he pinches the bridge of his nose. Placing your hands against the mattress, you carefully push yourself up to be sitting against the headboard.

"What am I going to do with you?" Lucifer mutters, his hand sliding to his chin in contemplation.

"What do you mean?"

Lucifer leans in close to you, his hand finding your chin and tilting your face up to meet his. Your noses bump together, a sly smile replacing the snarl. "Have you always been this selfish? Or have my brothers and I been corrupting you?"

Brows knit in confusion, you ask, "Selfish?"

His mouth follows your jaw down to your neck, humming against your skin. "Yes, selfish. Wanting pictures of me under your control is selfish, is it not?"

You want to roll your eyes at whatever new game he has decided you'll play, but end up moaning instead as his teeth sink into your neck. His tongue lavishes over the bite after, soothing the redness that gathers. Heat sparks in your lower abdomen again, reminding you of the bliss you had been in merely moments ago before your little stunt. Knowing the demon before you, it wouldn't be a surprise if he left you hot and bothered for the remainder of the night. He was a sadist through and through, particularly when it came to stubborn-headed you. Each time you held out, taking every bite, scrape, bruise, and denial of pleasure as proof of your worth to him. That is what made it all the more satisfying when you finally broke, crying and pleading for him to touch you, to kiss you, to fuck you. You knew whatever punishment he decided to deliver would leave you a needy mess, begging to be used like the cockslut you are.

His hand abandons your chin, trailing down your body until he reaches your clit and pinches the bundle of nerves between his fingers. "Answer me."

The pain makes you cry out, thighs tensing together, his hand trapped between. The following pleasure, however, has you rolling your hips into his touch, searching for more friction. "Luci- Lucifer, please," you mewl with wavering breath.

"Do not," he warns as his other hand, which had been holding your D.D.D., drops the phone against the mattress. He places it against your right knee, forcing it down and away to expose your cunt to him again, "Do not make me repeat myself."

You take in a shuddering breath before speaking. "Can you blame me for being selfish? Seeing you like that did wonders for my pride..."

He laughs, the deep baritone so sweet to your ears that you hope it's the first sound to greet you when you die.

"I suppose you are forgiven..." Forgiven by an angel turned demon, what luxury has befallen you. "But you still must face your punishment."

With that, he easily slips two fingers into your core. You whine, head falling back as his thumb traces brutal circles on your clit.

Being one of the most powerful devils grants Lucifer the ability to see the soul of any human he wishes. It is easily his favorite thing to watch about you, how it reacts to the events you find yourself in. Right now, it seems as if your soul is winding in on itself as the pressure builds in your body, each twist becoming tighter as your muscles tense. As his fingers set a steady pace, he watches your soul pulse in sync with your fluttering heart, the energy of your pleasure crackling and sparkling, waiting for the final strike that will allow it to burst forth. It's incandescent how it shines from you, like a torch in the darkness. It's maddening how effortlessly it beckons him close; he needs to look away. He instead chooses to focus on your face. How you bite down on your lip with each thrust; the sweat on your forehead; the rapid rise and fall of your chest as you gasp and pant. Yet the thrumming of your soul is too much; you're right on the edge.

You practically bawl when he removes his hand. You knew this was your fate.

Lucifer smoothes a few strands of hair back from your forehead, "Do not worry, love. It'll be over soon." A kiss is pressed to your heated skin. Using his strength, he's able to flip you onto your stomach with ease. One hand pulls your hips up until you're on your knees, the other hand keeping your head pressed firmly to the pillow. A light chuckle escapes him, "Perfect, stay just like that."

The sheets shuffle behind you as he moves, but you don't dare raise your head to see what he's searching for. You've always been prone to fidgeting when forced to wait. Your knees slide against the mattress, spreading wider. Fingers curl against the blanket, but when that doesn't alleviate the tension, they release the fabric, opting instead to drum impatiently. An ache forms in your knees, so you slide them back to their original position.

A firm hand on the back of your thigh has you stop dead still, biting your bottom lip in anticipation. You feel Lucifer close in, the heat radiating off of him. With a gentle squeeze to your thigh, his cock enters you again, bottoming out in one motion. A high-pitched squeak escapes you at the unannounced intrusion, your body leaning forward as your cunt stretches open around him. You want to rock back, to fuck yourself against him, but the way his thumb digs into your flesh reminds you of your place.

An imaginary clock ticks away in your head. This wouldn't be the first time you'd been made to be nothing but his cockwarmer and the idea of staying like this is torturous. Lesson learned, dammit.

But the ticking wasn't imaginary; rather, it was the click of nails against a screen. Behind you, the glow from your D.D.D. lights up Lucifer's devilish smirk. It takes him a minute to find the app he wants amidst your disorganized sorting system, but as the logo for the video call service appears on the screen, he knows this punishment is one you won't soon forget.

You inhale slowly and deeply, trying to quell your speeding heart for the long night ahead.

brrring... bring...

Is that-? Oh no . Nononononono!

"Oi, what d'ya think you're doin' callin' so - WHAT THE FUCK?"

Ohmygodmammonimsosorry ...!

"Oh, Lucifer, you're so mean!~" Asmo whines, "It's rude not to invite-"

"Was this really necessary? My book was just getting interesting." Satan grumbles.

Lord above and Lord below, please end my life.

You hear the faint sound of crunching, followed by a muffled, "Belphie, look-"

Belphegor's laugh echoes in the room. That little sadist . "Looks like our human found trouble.~"

One brother is missing, and that gives you hope. Perhaps he's already running to your rescue, his video game abandoned, and the door broken off its hinges as he rushes to save your dignity. Levi has always been your knight, right? He'll be here any second.

An embarrassed yelp and the sound of a gaming chair crashing to the floor destroys your dream. "L-Lucifer! W-What are you doing!?"

killmekillmekillmekillmekillmekillme...

"Thank you all for answering," Lucifer states as if this is a routine meeting, "Our little lamb here thought they could sneak a picture of me. No doubt this is your influence, Mammon."

"Whaddya mean my influence!? I don't have to take this! I'm hangin' up!"

"Mammon," Asmodeus's airy giggle resonates out, "You're supposed to look after them, right? Don't you think you should watch to make sure they're safe?"

"No! My duties don't involve watchin' Lucifer FUCK-"

"I have to agree with Asmo," says Belphie, "Beel is nodding his agreement right now. What do you think, Satan?"

A sigh escapes the fourth-born, "Not like I can return to my book after this nonsense, so, I suppose."

You want to scream, to cry, to do anything, but you can't will your voice or body into defiance. Instead, you bite the pillow below you, shoving your face deeper into its plushness as tears escape your eyes.

"Then we're all in agreement then," Lucifer slowly pulls his hips back until he's on the verge of slipping out completely, "Please feel free to make requests."

His hips slam back into yours, signifying the brutal pace he's going to keep. Each forceful thrust feels like you'll tip over. You swear you're steadily moving up the bed, bit by bit.

The hand on your thigh withdraws, only to return with a resounding smack! to your ass. A pained whimper rumbles rawly in your throat. You hear the mixture of surprised and pleased gasps from the brothers.

"Can you- Do that again...?" Levi whispers.

Lucifer's knuckles cut across your skin as he backhands the other side of your ass. All groans give way to choked gasps as each thrust knocks what little amount of air you manage to inhale from your lungs. Your back drops in a languid arch, what little composure you have bending with it.

"Please... please, I'm sorry..." You murmur.

His hand tangles into your hair, yanking your head to the side to expose your tear-stained face to the camera. "What did you say?"

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, Lucifer, please! I won't do it again!"

You hear Satan tsk on the line, "You know begging won't save you now." He doesn't sound composed, his own breath choppy and strained.

Is he seriously...? ARE ALL OF THEM?

Trying to turn your face back into the pillow, another sharp tug to your hair prevents you. Shame and guilt bubble hotly through your veins; any more feverish and you'd surely burst into flames.

"Awww, there's no need to be embarrassed, love!" Asmo soothes between his own labored pants. "Give them a little relief, Lucifer."

Lucifer's hand abandons your hair, tracing down your spine as he switches to shorter, faster thrusts. The relief from his intensity is indeed little, but now you are able to breathe a little more, and the ache in your hips doesn't feel as bad. The reprieve is short-lived, however, as his fingers find your clit once again. His touch is not teasing, not a slow crescendo into bliss. It's rough, demanding your body answer his command and do so now. Your thighs are trembling as the pleasure and pain merge in your core, your toes curling against nothing. You try to angle your hips away from his hand, but that only serves to force his cock deeper into you. You're trapped.

Belphie yawns. "Hurry up, Lucifer, I won't be awake much longer."

Lucifer chuckles. "Is my show boring you, Belphegor?"

"Why do you insist on taking so long? Only you have the patience for this." He huffs.

If you know Lucifer, and you do, he's no doubt rolling his eyes. He and the seventh-born have very differing opinions when it comes to sadism.

"Fine," he grunts, leaning in closer to you, "But make no mistake, dear, we're not finished."

A few more agonizing brushes against your clit finally has your body submitting. You hear Lucifer groan as your cunt spasms around him, just the mere presence of his cock making it hard to come down. Droplets of your cum drip down your thighs as the last few throes of your orgasm shudder through your body. Sweat clings to your body, cementing your hair to your face as you fight for breath.

Lucifer adjusts his position, withdrawing completely in order to showcase your wrecked pussy to Belphie. A loud grumble - one of hunger - interrupts the scene.

"They look so delicious..." Beel growls.

"They look gorgeous!" Asmo praises.

"I think they've learned their lesson, but one more should really drive it home," says Satan.

Levi only mutters into his hand.

Everyone remains silent after, waiting expectantly for greed to rear its ugly head.

"Can ya turn them over..."

Lucifer smirks, "You need to speak up, Mammon."

He grumbles, "I said can ya turn them over? Y'know, onto their back? To see their face?"

traitortraitortraitortraitortraitortraitortraitor.

Your body is limp, a mere doll that Lucifer positions for his little show. He allows you to fall to your side before rolling you onto your back. The light from your phone is blinding, but it's the idea of the demons watching on the other side that makes you shut your eyes. His hand brushes your hair away before his thumb dries the remaining tear tracks on your cheeks. Finally, a gentle touch has returned, but you know it will soon leave, so you place your hand over his, pressing your face further into his palm.

Asmo coos, "Aww, you see, Lucifer? They really are sorry."

"But just to be safe..." Satan teases. You know he's trying to rile you up, to feel wrath emanating from your soul.

It's working. You're going to kill him when you recover. You're going to use your pact to order him immobile and kill him dead.

"Can you give me one more?" Lucifer asks.

You take a deep breath... and nod your head.

"Good girl."

Lucifer presses both of your knees to your chest. Out of habit, your hands immediately circle around them, holding them in place. He lines himself up with your entrance, sinking his length in immediately. A groan escapes both of you. Again, Lucifer's hand returns to your face, thumb pressing on your lower lip. You part your mouth, allowing his thumb to glide across your tongue. His fingers slip under your chin, holding your mouth open and waiting before he leans over you and spits into it. You swallow it eagerly.

Mammon chokes.

You're finally granted respite. Lucifer's thrusts are slow and methodical, letting you feel every silky inch as his hips roll into yours. The pleasure building is the slow drawl you're used to, and after the near mind-shattering peak you had just experienced, the slow climb is comforting. It reminds you that, yes- Lucifer is extremely powerful- but it is with that power he uses to fiercely protect you. He may push your boundaries, erasing and redrawing the lines to his liking, but it is always with the intent of your self-discovery. He is many things; eldest brother, loyal servant, Lightbringer, but there is no title he cherishes as much as Your Lover.

His room is filled with a symphony of tiredly soft moans, mixing with the wetness between your legs as skin meets skin. As his cock prods deeper into your heat, a new gush of arousal springs forth, further intensifying the sticky sound of your bodies joining. Little puffs of breath escape Lucifer as he glances down at the screen of your phone, his brothers still watching with voyeuristic glee. He doesn't second guess his decision to end the call at that moment, tossing the troublesome device off to the side and ignoring the thunk of it landing on the floor.

Strong hands replace yours on the backs of your knees, urging you to instead wrap your arms around his shoulders. You do so happily, left hand tangling into the hair at the back of his neck, your right opting to dig into his shoulder blades. His lips meet yours, tongue swiping across your lower lip to soothe where your teeth had been cutting into the flesh.

The second orgasm approaches quicker than you would have liked, but your body is sensitive and raw from the experience. With a soft cry of the demon's name, you cum again, cunt spasming wildly around him. Lucifer follows soon after, one final thrust shoving his cock as deep as possible as his seed floods your insides. When he releases your legs, you collapse fully to the bed in an utterly spent heap, heaving as you succumb to the exhaustion.

The next time you open your camera, you're greeted with a selfie of Lucifer, cradling your sleeping form to his chest.

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gourdkeeper · 11 months

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"Princess" (Reader x sub!Jamie)

This idea was fed to my smooth little brain by a friend on discord and it resulted in this;

Word count: 3113

Content warnings: mirror sex, non prenetrative sex, masturbation, feminisation, dominant and submissive undertones, praise kink, jamie opens up to reader, reader calls jamie feminine gendered names (not in a humiliating way), hair pulling, jamie is a bit ooc because he's anxious and stressed out at first, fully self indulgent im sorry lmao

18+ after cut

This training session didn't quite go as planned. In fact there has been no fighting at all and surprisingly, no drinking either.

It all came up kind of funny.

Jamie was talking to you earlier and you were just completely lost in thought, staring at him with a look of adoration.

"Yo? You even listening?" His hands at his hips while leaning towards you.

You snap out of it and hold his hands and pull them towards you, "I know what I want you to teach me today!"

"Huh? What?"

"Eyeliner!"

"What?!" He whips his head back, "Why?"

"You always got the most perfect eye makeup on, I want you to do it to me and teach me!" You're giddy, you know it's a silly request but you've asked for worse before.

"That's not a fight move, you know that right? 'Sides, I'm your master and I'm the one saying what gets taught."

You pout at him while still holding his hands tight.

"Ugh. Fine." He rolls his eyes, "Not sure how this'll help with anything but fine..."

"Maybe I just want to have fun with you today!" You quip back innocently.

Jamie can't help but roll his eyes again but this time he has a smile on his face.

---

He unlocks the door to his apartment and leads you to his room.

"Hop on the bed, I'll be right there."

"On the bed?" You cock an eyebrow up at him.

"Just do it or I ain't teaching you anything yeah?"

You oblige, you lay at the top of his big cushy bed and wait for him, wondering why anyone would do their makeup in bed.

You've never even really been in his bedroom much before, you've only screwed around on the couch and on the small home gym. It's a pretty room, fitting for him. Big soft bed, large full body mirror and stylish wall decorations.

Before you know it he's coming through the doorway holding a small bag.

"Alright I got my stuff right here just sit up and stay still so I can do this without poking your eye out."

He sits next to you and guides your head around as needed.

"Close your eyes..." He's speaking just above a whisper, he's so cute when he's focused.

He draws a line over one lid and tells you to open your eyes again so that he can finish connecting it smoothly. "Perfect." He mutters.

It feels good to be prettied up by Jamie, it makes you feel special and loved even if you had to convince him to do it at first.

He's finishing the second eye and tells you to come look in the mirror.

He did the same style of eyeliner he usually dons himself. A thin elegant red line hugging a traditional cat eye winged liner.

"It's so pretty!" You hop and kiss him on the cheek "Thank you!"

His happiness is visible too, he looks proud of his work and starts telling you how to make sure it's angled right and how to get both eyes to look symmetrical.

"Can I try it on you?" You interrupt him.

"What do you mean?"

"I want to do your makeup too!"

He looks down at you for a few seconds, silent and wary.

"...Sure."

He holds your hand and brings you back towards the bed.

"I hope you know I wouldn't let *anyone* else do this but you." He sighs and takes a small wipe from his bag to remove his existing eyeliner so that you can practice freely.

You feel giddy, you don't know why, but the thought of putting makeup on such a pretty guy is making you excited with a hint of anxiety welling up in your stomach. He's good at it, he does this daily so if you fuck it up it'll feel like crap and look way too jarring but you want to do it so badly. Hell if it turns out bad you'll have something to laugh about together sometime.

Jamie's finished cleaning his face and is now sat down in bed, you're on your knees sorting thru the bag trying to find the liner.

He lays back down on the bed waiting, looking almost anxious and slowly stretches his hand towards you, "Looking for this?" It's the eyeliner you've been searching for, "I didn't put it away yet."

You take it from his hand and crawl over him, each legs hugging the side of his torso while you remove the cap from the little pen and lean forward.

"Are you ok Jamie?" You've noticed that he's been noticeably quieter than usual.

"I'm fine, just, get this over with..." There seemed to be a slight hint of embarrassment in his voice and eyes.

"Hey now..." You fondle his cheek while looking him in the eye, "Since when are you shy about anything, you don't need to feel embarrassed around me ok?"

He returns you a small smile and nods gently.

"Close your eyes handsome." He obliges and you begin lining his eye lid carefully. "...Open" allowing you to angle the wing at the end. *Almost* as good as when he does it.

"Now the other side..." You hold his face firmly... It feels warm... Is he? Blushing? You try not to mind it too much and begin working on the other eye. Once it's done you ask him to open his eyes and hand him a little mirror that was inside the bag.

"How did I do?" You tilt your head sideways waiting for an answer.

He's definitely blushing.

"Really good! As expected from my disciple.." There is that nervous shy smile again. "...Are you done now?"

"Jamie why are you blushing and trying to hurry me up?"

He's taken by surprise. "Am not! Just the drink that's all-"

"You haven't drank anything in at least two hours."

You can see his adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows trying to come up with a clever reply. You back up a little bit to give him space and- Why is there something poking up your backside and why did he just twitch.

You glance backwards and it's clear as day. He's hard. You look back at him and he's averting his eyes, clearly embarrassed over it.

"What did I tell you about being embarrassed around me, c'mon Jamie it's ok..." You try to make him calm down as you gently rub your fingers along his cheeks. "I'm... Excited too, I mean, hard not to when you always look so damn delicious you know?"

You cause him to laugh nervously. "You're on top of me that's all, I can't help it."

"I've been on top of you plenty of times..." You raise your eyebrow at him, you know the hard on is being caused by something else considering how he's acting. "...Do you like me treating you gently like this? Pampering you?“

There he is, averting his eyes again, "Maybe..."

"I can... Continue if you want me to?"

There's a look of uncertainty before he agrees to it.

You grab the little makeup bag to see what else you should try. There's blush, eyeshadows, highlighters and even lipsticks and lipgloss, you've never seen him wear any of it, you wonder why he has it at all. You pull out a little lipgloss that has a red tint to it, it should match his eyeliner nicely.

"Jamie how come you have so much makeup, so much of it almost running out even but you only ever wear eyeliner?"

"I... To practice...?" He's hiding something. "Never know when I'll have to do my disciples' makeup amirite?" Finishing with a nervous laugh. There's that cock twitching on your ass again.

You raise your eyebrow at him. "You sure it's only that?"

"I guess-"

"Can I put it on you?" You enquire, leaning forward while purposely rubbing your butt on him to make him squirm.

He's flushing red again while nodding, biting his lip. Was it out of anxiety or arousal? You wondered.

You kept softly petting his face to make him relax before holding it still to get started.

"Open that pretty mouth."

"O-okay-"

The sight of Jamie being stuck underneath you, lips parted, blushing cheeks and getting prettied up by you is making you want to act up. Why does he have to be so beautiful and captivating regardless if he's bursting with enough confidence to fill the entire room or if he just got shy and became a flustered little mess because you found out something new and decided to poke your nose in the matter.

You've finished applying the gloss to his lips. He looks even more kissable than usual. His small soft lips look even softer, made them look fuller too...

You point the same mirror at him again asking if he likes it.

He nods, you could just gobble him up.

"Should I continue?" You ask, hoping he'll let you, "Might not be as good at it as you though..."

"No one's as good as the great Jamie Siu... But you... You come pretty damn close." He's smilling, not even a smirk or a smug grin like how he usually does when he talks, he looks, vulnerable? It's odd, you've been on top of him plenty. You've dominated this man, pulled his hair and had him beg for you while grinding on his face and there wasn't ever a hint of shyness, until now that is.

You decide to slowly rut your hips against his strained cock, not even aknowledging it, you want to work him up and see what this is all about.

He's biting his lip. You're looking thru the makeup and grab some eyeshadow, you'll just fix up the liner afterwards no big deal. He doesn't stop you as you pretty him up further. You can see sweat forming in his forehead and his lips are pursed.

"I need to tell you something..." You stop for a few seconds to look at him better and nudge him to go on. "I- I uh have that much makeup because," he swallows drily and fidgets around with his fingers, "sometimes I just. Like being a bit more... Feminine." You fully stop and lean back to properly face him, you can tell this is a heavy topic for him and you don't want to hurt him in any way.

Your hand moves to his cheek and pets it. "Jamie that's ok, you think I would judge you?" You give him a soft reassuring smile.

"It's not like. It wasn't even sexual. I just like being pretty sometimes. But now you're doing this to me and I just, I just can't- I didn't expect any of this." He looks very divided, almost pained to share something so intimate and like he could cry.

You rush to hug him and calm him down. "Do you want me to stop this? I understand if you do."

He shakes his head lightly. "I'd like to continue... just, I'm happy to share this with you."

God. You love him so much you could burst. "You're sure right?"

He nods and says a shaky but certain "yes". You've never seen him so nervous before. It's kind of cute.

You're finishing applying the eyeshadow on one eye and ask him, "Why do you like being more feminine sometimes? You don't need to tell me if you don't want to baby." His member twitched again at the end of the sentece and you take mental note of what did it.

"I... Don't fully know," he has his eyes closed, one because it'd be too difficult to speak about it facing you and two to let you finish doing the job, "I've had a tough time with beauty standards before and with always wanting my hair to be kept long and... Been teased about it before. So I just, kept most of it hidden."

It hurts to hear that he's been made to feel inferior before over how he likes to look and it makes you wish you could break the kneecaps of whoever did it. You can't help but reassure him multiple times tell him that you love him for who he is, feminine or not.

"You don't think it's weird? At all?" He's a bit perplexed.

"I think it's normal." You lean forward to whisper in his ear with a mischiveous smile curling at your lips, "And I also find it hot."

"Y-you do?" He looks small underneath you, flustered beyond belief, he definitely doesn't need any blush applied to him.

"Mhmmm..." You take his face on your hand again and hold it in place to let you do his other eye now. "I sure do..." You start grinding onto his crotch again, more obviously this time and you see his brain slowly leave as he struggles to put words together. He looks happy and relieved ontop of being clearly aroused.

"You're so pretty Jamie." That is no lie, he is the most beautiful person you've ever seen and you feel insanely lucky to have him all for yourself. The real him.

You're just about finished with doing his makeup and you lean down to whisper in his ear again, with a plan to make him lose his mind. You want to do him so bad. "You're such...a pretty girl."

His only reaction was to moan and tremble. His eyes were wide looking at you in disbelief, he's so fucking turned on. It's like you've presented him with a brand new revelation. His breath is shaky he can't even speak up.

"Aren't you?“ you tilt your head playfully at him, hoping he'd respond even more positively.

"...! Y-yes!"

"You really are... My pretty girl..." You put the makeup back in the bag now that you're done and give him your full attention. You straddle him tighter and grind down harder. His cock is leaving a stain through his underwear *and* pants. That's a first. "...Jamie..." You moan once more into his ear, "do you want me to take care of you?~" you tease.

"Please!“ the lack of hesitation makes you happy and proud. You love how excited he always is to be touched by you.

"I'll think about it" you joke, "But first," you lift yourself up and hold his hand, pulling him to you, "Come here baby..."

He follows after you and you motion him to sit at the edge of the bed and once he does, you point your finger towards to full lenght mirror of his. "Look at how beautiful you are... You're so pretty, aren't you?" You ask quietly as you fill his neck with kisses from behind.

He's moaning and whimpering softly in response.

You undo the tie on his hair, letting his silky hair cascade down his back and shoulders.

You wrap your hands around him and start removing his shirt and feeling him up at the same time. His face turns around enough to meet yours and starts kissing you sloppily. You can taste his lipgloss, it makes you go insane with desire.

"Watch out pretty girl, we don't want to mess up that pretty face of yours now..." His legs are shut tight, trying to contain how hard and wet he is. "But we do want to make a mess elsewhere...don't we?“ Your hand snakes downwards slipping under his waist band and gripping a thigh and pulling outward, he takes the hint and spreads them.

"Look at the mess you've done already... You're so wet for me baby..." You know he would come undone at the slightest graze of your hand right now, you want to extend this *just* a bit further. He just looks so insanely hot, everything about this is perfect. "What do you want me to do to you? Princess?“ You kiss his cheek from behind, embracing him like this is so good, it makes you feel powerful.

"I- I want you to touch me...please..." His breath is ragged, his words slurred, his eyelids heavy, his chest heaving up and down at the same pace as his cock.

"Is that so? Well then..." You take his twitching member in your hand, wrapping it tight. "I want you to look at yourself when I make you come, yeah?" He nods fast, "I want you to see me mess up this pretty little thing..." You sound a bit mean but that only riles him up further.

You start pumping your first up and down, he's getting sweatier and not a single coherent sentence exits his mouth. He can't keep it shut either. A plethora of "ahs", hisses, whines, whimpers and breathy "please's" are all that he can muster. His body is limp and leaning fully on you, you worry that you might've broken him for a second until he springs back up, forearms supporting his torso, tensed up as he furrows his brows and pulls his knees together.

"Ah- I- I'm gonna-" he's hiccuping and quaking, you know he'll come hard, "I'm going to- c-c-".

You pull his hair forcing his head up so he can look at his reflection straight on and growl in his ear repeatedly to push him towards the edge, "Do it. Come for me. Be a good girl and come for me, I can't wait to taste you. Come on."

The sight of himself coupled with your dirty mantra is enough to give him the final push.

He can't help but shut his eyes tightly with tears forming at the corners when his cock finally gives in and spurts all over his torso. Some inevitability getting on his pants. You continue pumping him until he's been drained dry of energy. "Good girl." You kiss his neck softly. "You're so good for me Jamie..."

You let him lay back down on the bed with you and kiss him slow and passionately holding his head softly. Once you've broken away from the kiss you make sure he's feeling ok.

He nods and smiles. He looks so relieved and happy and sweet. It makes your heart flutter.

"Was it too much? I'll never do it again if you don't want me to." You're a bit scared you went too far and too fast.

He lets out a short laugh while holding tight onto you. "I'd feel awfully depressed if you never did it again. I loved it. I love you."

"I'll make sure to do it often then~" you tease at him. "Let's get you cleaned up for now yeah?"

Your brain is still in a rush, thinking of ideas for next time. You can't wait to make him feel as pretty and cared for as possible.

#jamie siu #jamie siu x reader #street fighter 6 #jamie street fighter #street fighter #gourdkeeper #I'm so sorry lmao #this is very self indulgent and if its not your things its ok #i have like 5 other requests you guys have sent that im working on #plus a part 3 to drunken brawlin

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mavenperformance · 2 years

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Billet Turbo Flange: The Smooth Way to Increase Power

Why you need a new turbo flange.

Definition

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Why you need a new turbo flange

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Summary

Turbo flanges can wear out over time, and should be replaced every so often. Before buying a new turbo flange, be sure to check what your current flange is made of. If it’s made of copper or steel, then you should consider a billet turbo flange. The smoothness of these metals make for a much smoother spin and less overall lag than their counterparts. These flanges will take you one step closer to maximizing your car’s power potential! They are not as prone to wearing down like other materials and are also more efficient at removing heat from the engine bay which improves horsepower on the open road.

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#billet turbo flange

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starglitterz · 2 years

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♡ AMOR AETERNUS. — your hands were made to fit in mine.

feat ; aether, albedo, amber, ayaka, barbara, beidou, bennett, childe, chongyun, dainsleif, diluc, ei, eula, fischl, ganyu, gorou, hu tao, itto, jean, kazuha, kaeya, keqing, kokomi, lisa, lumine, mona, ningguang, noelle, razor, rosaria, sara, signora, scaramouche, shenhe, sucrose, thoma, venti, xiangling, xiao, xingqiu, xinyan, yae miko, yanfei, yoimiya, yun jin, zhongli x gn!reader warnings ; just hands tbh 😭, mild injury descriptions, entirely sfw fluff, can be considered modern au (?) a/n ; um here is my contribution to to the hand enjoyers of genshinblr <3 hope u all like this hehe :>

please reblog! it helps a lot :)

their hands are smooth and cold, almost as if there is no blood rushing through it even though the exact opposite is occurring when you grasp their hand and intertwine your fingers with their long ones. not a single blemish is visible on their skin, the sign of a shielded life free of hard work - a stark contrast to how much good they've actually done fulfilling their tasks, which are equally as important to those lifting heavy objects daily. a single gold band glints on their ring finger in the morning light, a soft smile playing about their lips as they think about how lucky they are to love you. — ALBEDO, AYAKA, chongyun, kokomi, lumine, LISA, NINGGUANG, shenhe, YAE MIKO, YUN JIN.

their hands are rough, dotted with callouses and scars stretching across the length of their palm. each one tells a story, they explain excitedly when you express your concern, especially after seeing a burn mark near their thumb. their hands are a map of memories, illustrating tales of travels far and wide which go wrong more often than not. a messy constellation of freckles dances about the back of their hand, and you press a kiss to each one before going to bed daily. — BENNETT, CHILDE, hu tao, razor, XIANGLING, xinyan, YOIMIYA.

their hands are small, nails immaculately trimmed down and kept neat. there's never a spot of dirt on their hands when they grab yours and walk around the city. there's a small bump on their finger that they swear have no idea where it came from, but you think it's because they write too much. the lines racing across their palm are in perfect curves, and the two of you have no need to visit a fortune teller to predict your future when you're perfectly happy together in the present. — AETHER, barbara, GANYU, JEAN, mona, sara, SUCROSE, thoma, venti, XINGQIU, yanfei.

their hands are long and elegant, each finger tipped with a faultlessly shaped nail. once in a blue moon a bruise will form on their wrist, or a scar will scratch itself across their palm, but you gently kiss it and promise it'll be better soon, and it doesn't make them flawed, instead it's a symbol of their strength. the tension in their white-knuckle grip only relaxes around you, their stress ebbing away like the tides under the crescent moon in your presence. no matter how harsh the injury, you'll always be their panacea. — albedo, diluc, EI, EULA, jean, keqing, LUMINE, signora, XIAO.

their hands are strong, almost terrifyingly so, and that's visible at just a glance. veins stand out of their skin when they flex, leaving the citizens open-mouthed and gaping at the sight. they're powerful enough to lift you up into the air with a wide grin, strong hands clasped tightly around your waist, and you know they'll never let you fall. sometimes, they'll place their palm on your cheek and watch with an awed smile as your eyes flutter shut and you lean into their touch, though the smile quickly changes into surprise when you hop forward and kiss their plush lips. — ITTO, BEIDOU, diluc, noelle, zhongli

their hands are always dirty for some unknown reason, and you swear you're this close to travelling to fontaine and purchasing a portable sink. grime gets under their nails from their adventures, and their fingers are covered with scratches from the pricks of thorny brambles. when they visit you in the dead of night or at the crack of dawn, their palms are stained with some unholy mixture of blood, soil and dust - you barely even dare to ask whose it is. but no matter how late they come home, as long as they can hold you in a warm embrace, you're fine with that. — amber, GOROU, razor, ROSARIA, childe.

their hands are stunning, to say the least. their lithe fingers never fail to move with grace, whether when stealing the life of another or dancing across the strings of a mellifluous instrument. rings decorate each hand, deep silver and black colours that gleam in the dark when they trace a finger down your cheek and pull you close for another passionate kiss. the metal is cool against your face, the opposite of the warmth from their lips peppering every inch of skin they can reach. your fingers fit perfectly between the gaps in theirs, and it's almost like your hands were moulded for one another. — dainsleif, KAZUHA, KAEYA, lisa, SCARAMOUCHE, XIAO, yae miko.

their hands are adorable, small with short fingers and nails clipped. but, the part of their nails left is spotted with splashes of colour and design, a rainbow decorating their fingers and painting one in the air whenever they raise their hands to wave to you. and that's not all, because a gallery of nail art adds onto the glamour, with miniscule illustrations of weapons and stars and monsters they've painted on their own smile up at you. but although they put the utmost care into painting their nails, nothing compares to the care with which they hold your hand and smile, ready to give you the best day of your life. — amber, FISCHL, xingqiu, VENTI.

quill speaks !

oh my days this was so fun AHAHA im sorry if some of them dont fit,,, anyways i hope u enjoyed it, ily all xoxo <3!!

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wonlouvre · 3 years

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pairing: doctor!wonwoo x lawyer!female oc genre: modern royalty, arranged marriage, fluff and future angst word count: 2.8k WARNINGS: hospital, injury, child trafficking, child abuse, hostage taking, guns, police, violence

author’s note: we have reached part 4!!! i think our couple’s relationship development is quite slow. please bear with me/them, they’re getting there!!! :’((( also, i am still very much thankful and overjoyed for the kind feedback that you guys gave for the previous chapter. i hope you guys are looking forward for this one. enjoy!!! :)))

four: let’s get you home, princess | masterlist

Wonwoo is not addressed as Your Highness inside the hospital premises. It’s actually rare for him to hear Your Highness ever since the royal decrees have been relaxed. His close friends, family and even colleagues have been calling him by his name or profession for the longest time. However, the King and Queen still must be addressed with utmost respect, regardless of who the person may be to the Royal Family.

Things just got different when he started living and working at your kingdom. He had said that it’s okay for him to be called Wonwoo most especially by senior doctors who have been practicing even before he was born. But it was still awkward so they stuck with Dr. Jeon. These days, some young residents and interns still stutter and it just makes Wonwoo laugh.

From time to time, Wonwoo is withdrawn from the hospital because of his duties as the Prince. Duties such as to make an appearance, attend a meeting or speak at an event. Said duties usually eat up most of his days in a week. Days where he could and should have been at the hospital, doing what he pledged to do until he dies.

Wonwoo is loyal to the crown, but he is also committed to the people he promised to serve.

The wedding planning has started and he’s relieved that you and him both have reached an agreement to hire a full-time planner that will arrange whatever the desires of your hearts may be. He’s grateful that just like him, you are happily married to your job. It’s a lame joke, but Wonwoo can never be bothered to care. So far as the wedding planning goes, you have been looking at venues such as hotels, private gardens or beach resorts. Initially, his parents offered to hold the wedding at their kingdom but you humbly requested to have it at your homeland instead.

It was no issue to the King and Queen, definitely understanding where you were coming from.

Wonwoo admires that side of you. You seem to always know what you want and when you do, you speak up at the right time with elegance and confidence. He believes it’s the lawyer and princess in you altogether.

The thought of you puts a smile on his face. He hopes you wake up soon so he can see you.

“Wonwoo?”

His thoughts popped like a bubble when his name was suddenly called. He clears his throat and faces the owner of the voice. It was Soonyoung and by the looks of his grin, Wonwoo’s sure he witnessed him daydreaming.

Wonwoo rolls his eyes and goes back to the charts he’s been reading. “What do you want?”

“That’s not how you return the favor of your friend who brought you a fresh batch of clothing,” his friend chides, bumping his shoulder against his tall friend. “You seemed to have had a great night, our Prince.”

It’s trivial, really. But Wonwoo’s cheeks blushed at the reminder. He will never tell anyone but staying with you yesterday until the early hours of today made him feel something he doesn’t know. It’s absurd how he can’t pinpoint what that something is, but he won’t deny that there is.

“Shut up,” he grumbles like a child, ignoring the cheeky giggle Soonyoung emits.

Speaking of Soonyoung, he was born in your kingdom and moved to the neighboring one when he was only a baby. Both his parents are doctors also who have the heart and passion to offer their services voluntarily. They were only set for a medical mission before going back in a month, but the King and Queen (Wonwoo’s parents) recognized and applauded their kindness, offering them a place to stay and permanent positions at their Royal Hospital.

Being of the same age, Wonwoo and Soonyoung grew up together and became best of friends.

It’s no question that he’s attached to the Prince wherever he goes.

“Dr. Jeon,” another voice calls for him and this time, it sounded desperate.

Wonwoo looks up and finds a young resident, looking disheveled and stressed. “What is it?”

“I have a young boy, 10-11-years-old, crying in pain while clutching his left arm,” she explains the basics before continuing, “He was brought by someone who seemed like his brother not older than 14-years-old. They weren’t accompanied by anyone.”

“Ask for their names and address,” Soonyoung suggests while standing straight and crossing his arms. “I’m sure we can find some contact details from the statistics office.”

The young intern shakes her head. “They’re not talking. All the older boy is saying, begging rather, is for us to help them.”

“X-ray?” Wonwoo asks and pumps some sanitizer on his hands.

“The result is on the way.”

Wonwoo nods and starts walking to where the boys are. “Let’s see what we got then.”

The emergency department is always hectic and anyone that says otherwise is unbelievable. Regardless of what the case may be, Wonwoo stands that if they are brought here, it is an emergency. Usually, they range from new parents bringing their newborn baby who can’t stop crying in the middle of the night or some bringing their seven-year-old for a cast because they fell off the bike while playing with their friends. They all seem to be treatable and can be discharged in an hour or so. But sometimes, you can never be too sure.

Wonwoo knows because he has witnessed it already. That one baby that’s been crying was actually fighting a fever and that one kid who fell from the bike? It was having trouble with his balance and movement.

It’s not the first time that young children came to the hospital by themselves. They’re soon followed by their parents or guardian afterwards most of the time. Wonwoo supposes the kids this time around are in shock that they can’t form any clear thoughts at the moment.

But Wonwoo doesn’t think that’s the case at all once the curtains were pulled open.

“Oh my,” Soonyoung blurts out, surprised.

Wonwoo expected two boys looking dirty and blushing from playing under the sun all throughout the day. He expected them to be silently crying for their mom or dad. He expected them to be at least healthy and on their way for a speedy recovery once they got treatment. But no, Wonwoo was wrong.

The boys looked awfully hungry and dehydrated. Their clothes were smaller than what their body looks like and the older brother is missing one pair of his shoes. He noticed bruises on some parts of their body. There’s even a nasty cut on the older boy’s bottom lip.

Something’s wrong and Wonwoo is not a fool to not notice it.

Wonwoo releases the breath he’s been holding and smiles genuinely. “Hello, I’m Wonwoo.”

Silence.

He looked at Soonyoung before proceeding to meet the boy’s height who’s sitting on the chair beside his brother’s bed. “I’m going to take a look at your brother now, if you don’t mind.”

The older one finally looks at him, his eyes dead serious. “That’s what they have been saying ever since we got here. Why can’t you just treat him already?”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Wonwoo tries to calm him down, noticing his tear-stained face and shaking voice. “Your brother will probably need a cast. We’re just waiting for the x-ray results to come out to know for sure. I just need to ask some questions, alright?”

The boy’s bloodied lip trembles as he nods his head.

“I’ll go get the result,” Soonyoung says and leaves without forgetting to close the curtains.

“What’s your name?”

“They call me Jung,” the boy answers, weak and unsure. He then points at his sleeping brother, “He’s called Sam.”

Wonwoo’s brows furrow in both confusion and doubt. Why wouldn’t they have official names? Looking at the brothers’ state all over again, it didn’t take Wonwoo long to comprehend what’s really going on. He turns his head to the resident and locks eyes with her, who’s already grasping the situation at hand. He then gives her a nod, signalling her to immediately call children’s services.

Once she leaves, Soonyoung arrives with an envelope.

“It’s a fracture, but won’t need surgery,” He says happily and Jung sighs in relief.

“But, you’re staying here for a while,” Wonwoo takes hold of the envelope from his friend. “We just need to run some more tests.”

Soonyoung looks at his friend with wide eyes asking, what are you talking about? But Wonwoo ignores him and keeps his smile in the hopes that the boy doesn’t grow any more agitated.

“Your brother is okay,” he assures Jung and squeezes his shoulder. “We’ll put the cast on his arm and clean the cut on your lip shortly. Stay here, okay?”

He pushes his friend out after the boy gives them a nod. Soonyoung was still glaring at him at the nonsense he spewed out earlier. Wonwoo puts a finger on his lip, gesturing for him to not say a thing yet until they move to somewhere more quiet.

“What is going on?” Soonyoung whispered-shouts when they reached what seemed to be the fire exit. “What tests are we still running?”

“It’s a lie,” Wonwoo answers and smooths the lines on his forehead, thinking and thinking on what he should do. “We need to keep them here. I think… they’re victims of abuse and trafficking.”

Soonyoung’s jaw drops while his legs grow weak, making him stumble. This is nothing new to them. But even so, it still makes him sick to the stomach. He just nodded as he didn’t need to say anything else.

“I already asked for children’s services and they could arrive here anytime soon,” Wonwoo continues. “They looked like they escaped. I won’t be surprised if someone suddenly barges here, claiming they’re the parent or guardian.”

“What do we do when that happens?”

“We keep them safe,” he answers firmly. “No matter what.”

Every staff at the Emergency Room was alerted about the situation of the boys. Authorities were also called and they’ll be arriving soon. Wonwoo gave strict orders to not disclose any information about them to anyone who claims they are the parent or guardian. Any affiliation they assume is not acceptable unless they can prove it.

The boys were transferred to a ward once Sam’s treatment was done. Wonwoo brought them some food, water and spare gowns to rid them of the excuse of clothes they’ve been wearing for who knows how long. It’s unbearable to imagine what they have gone through but seeing them get comfortable is enough to bring some peace to Wonwoo’s mind.

He requested Soonyoung to stay with them or at least check on them from time to time and make sure no one goes inside their room other than the designated staff. He just needs the representative of the children’s services to arrive and they’ll start knowing what the next steps to take from there.

Now that’s settled, Wonwoo can now go back to his routine and job.

Or not.

“You’re Highness.”

His security detail stands before him, complete and blocking his way to the elevator that could bring him back to the Emergency Room. Wonwoo can notice the tense and nervous expressions on their faces like children about to admit the trouble they just caused. He had requested before that they be posted on the sides to not hinder him from working. They’re only to jump into action when it’s life threatening and by the looks of it they’re here in his face just to do that but he still asks.

“What are you doing here?”

The head of the group bows his head. “The Emergency Room is being held hostage by armed men. We need to leave as soon as possible.”

Wonwoo’s heart almost felt like it stopped beating. “No.”

He needs to move. He needs to go back there. He can’t just leave.

Wonwoo forces his body against the men standing firm on their positions, only to be held back. His head of security nods at his men to not let him go and carry him if they have to.

“No, no, no!”

Wonwoo thrashes from their hold as he screamed for them to let him go. He can hear his security speaking to his mic to prepare the vehicle that would transfer him to safety but in that second all men drop to the ground and shield him when an ear-splitting clap suddenly reverberates through the walls.

A gunshot was fired.

Meanwhile, you were brought to the top floor of the hospital at one of the private rooms reserved for the members of the Royal Family when you insisted on staying. Jeongyeon and the rest of your security detail were more than distressed at your stubbornness, fearing for the earful they’re going to get once this is all over. But they would rather have that than leave you and neglect their duty.

“Your Highness, we really have to go,” Jeongyeon reiterates, still trying to convince you while shaking your shoulders.

You shake your head and avoid her eyes. “No, we can’t just leave the people here. We can’t leave…” you pause then whisper softly, “Wonwoo.”

Jeongyeon nods. “I know, I know. But the Royal Police are on their way and the Prince’s security detail is already with him. The two of you cannot stay here any longer. It’s an order from His Majesty.”

You swallow the lump on your throat. You can’t think. You can’t process whatever the hell is ensuing downstairs. The lives of innocent people, your innocent people, are at stake.

You just can’t leave. You have to do something.

“We’re not leaving this hospital until those armed men are immobilized.”

Jeongyeon wishes to plead further but all you hear was ringing when the sound of what you’ve been fearing the most resonated inside the room.

Security scrambles and moves at a speed of light to protect you with their bodies. They were screaming among themselves but you fail to register what they’re saying. You fail to hear nor see your surroundings.

Everything became a blur.

Everything became nothing as your heart beated a thousand times faster than normal and the only person running through your mind is no one else but the Prince who was beside you just last night but is now in imminent danger.

Please, Wonwoo. Please.

“Their Majesties condemns the hostage taking that occurred at the Royal Hospital,” Prime Minister Lee starts, looking straight at the camera. “Their Majesties assures and promises the public that they will be held accountable for the crime they have committed but most importantly for the distress and trauma they have caused the patients. They commend the prompt action that the Hospital’s Security and Royal Police have taken resulting in no casualties.”

“Prime Minister Lee!” A reporter raises their hand. “Can you confirm that His and Her Highness Jeon Wonwoo and Y/N were at the hospital when the hostage took place?”

“Yes,” he answers, “Her Highness, Princess Y/N, was admitted to the hospital yesterday after fainting at her office…”

You switch the TV off with the remote before throwing it on the couch. You walk to the window with crossed arms and watch the Royal Police vehicles leave one by one after clearing the Emergency Room and declaring it safe. It’s now back to its normal operations.

Apparently, the gunshot was fired by the police, wounding one of the hostage takers. They took advantage of that distraction to finally hold them down and arrest them right away. There’s no official statement from the Royal Police yet as they are still investigating further. You make a commitment to get to the bottom of this.

They’re gone now.

But Wonwoo is still unheard of.

He’s safe, they told you. But that didn’t stop you from biting your nails, walking back and forth and pulling your hairs from the roots. You need to see him.

“Your Highness,” Jeongyeon calls for you and your head snaps up. She gives you a small smile before opening the door she’s holding wider.

Wonwoo enters with a tired smile and you almost burst into tears. You ran to him as fast as you could, but your legs were weakened by worry, you almost fell. It’s a good thing Wonwoo meets you halfway and catches you in his arms.

You take every tangible thing about him. You take and you take as you hold his waist tightly and bury your face to his chest. “You can’t do that to me.”

Wonwoo sighs in content upon breathing in your scent and hearing your voice. He wraps his one arm around your waist while the other holds your head gently. He stays silent and just holds you for as long as he desires. After the horror that transpired earlier, holding you like this is what he desperately needed.

“Let’s get you home, Princess.”

#seventeen #wonwoo #seventeen wonwoo #seventeen scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen imagines #wonwoo imagines #seventeen fluff #wonwoo fluff #seventeen scenario #wonwoo scenario #seventeen imagine #wonwoo imagine #fic: ifliys

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i-write-boop-spoops · 3 years

Text

Steven Stone Fluff Alphabet

To go along with my NSFW Alphabet, I decided to do some fluff for my favourite rock nerd. Hope you enjoy!

A = Activities (what do they like to do with their s/o? how do they spend their free time?)

He loves being outside with you, going for hikes, walks and sea swims. Likes to learn with you too, wandering around museums and discovering new things about science, history and culture.

He probably won’t take you mining unless you’re really into it, it can be quite tedious and dangerous, but he loves when you help him polish stones, or help make them into decorations or jewellery.

He has a soft spot for lazy days where you two are draped across his couch watching trashy reality TV shows and fun, animated films

B = Beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? what do they think is beautiful about them?)

Likes how kind and caring you are, not only to him, but to his Pokemon and almost everyone else.

He thinks you’re beautiful in every way, but he in particular thinks your eyes sparkle like the rarest, most precious gem he has ever seen.

C = Comfort (how do they help their s/o when they feel down? what makes them feel better?)

Steven is a little oblivious, so you might have to tell him that you’re down, but as soon as he knows, it’s his mission to cheer you up! Lots of kisses and cuddles, your favourite meals delivered, a shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen. If you’re sad due to an insecurity, he will wax poetic about how amazing that part of you is to him.

If you’re very stressed due to work or school, and you finally have time off, he’s going to whisk you away to a sun-drenched beach in Alola, the finest room in Hotel Richissime in Lumiouse, or his gorgeous villa by the Batte Zone in Sinnoh (provided he hasn’t given it to some ten-year-old yet lol) to help you unwind and enjoy yourself.

When he’s down, he needs reassurance, and lots of physical affection. He might also throw himself into his work/hobbies to an extreme degree, skipping meals and sleeping little, so you’ll have to ensure he gets fed and a good few hours of sleep until he starts feeling better.

D = Dreams (how do they picture their future with their s/o and in general?)

He would love a little family with you, a couple kids running around, maybe in Mossdeep, but he’s down with moving inland, or to your home region if you’re not from Hoenn, if you would prefer.

He definitely dreams about kissing you goodbye and ruffling his kiddos’ hair before he goes to work. Since his mother died when he was so young, he never really got to experience the classic nuclear family, so he longs to provide it to his own children.

He’d like to go back to college too, get his Masters and maybe PhD in Geology and work in that field. He really does not want to be involved with the Devon Corporation, so he hopes he can work with it as little as possible

E = Equal (are they the dominant one in the relationship or are they rather passive?)

I would say your relationship is equal for the most part, the only thing that tips the scales in Steven’s favour is his wealth and connections. He can get you things or into places that you, as a regular person, wouldn’t be able to at all otherwise.

He doesn’t hold this over your head, he finds people who do that rather gross, and he’s not your sugar daddy either. He does spoil you sometimes, but that’s just one way he expresses his fondness for you.

F = Fight (how quick are they to forgive their s/o? what are they like in an argument? who says sorry first?)

Steven is a reasonable man, so I think once he’s calmed down and thought about it more, he’s ready to forgive you if you’re sorry, Now, this all depends on the nature of why you were in the wrong, if that’s the case. He will let small things slide, and is willing to compromise on bigger things, but if you do something like cheat on him, he will never forgive you.

When he is in the wrong though, he will own up to it, your relationship is more important than his pride.

He doesn’t go for cheap shots or low blows, and he only raises his voice if he is really pissed. If this is before you live together, and the fight occurs at his house, he will get you to leave, but makes sure you get home safe.

G = Gifts (what kind of things do they gift to their s/o? are they spontaneous or do they stick to special events like anniversaries?)

So. Many. Rocks.

Seriously, your shelves will be filled with amethyst clusters and pretty pebbles. Some of this rocks will be jewels encrusted in some stellar accessories.

Beyond that, he’ll get you things he thinks you might need. Complaining about your coffee maker? He’s just gotten you a top of the line model with a prepaid subscription to receive new pods full of expensive Kalosian coffee every month for the next five years. Need a new bag? He’ll have one that costs double your rent shipped to you by the end of the day.

His gifts are expensive and high quality, but he does not buy you them for the sake of flaunting wealth. He just thinks you’d like them.

H = Heart Eyes (what are they like in love? is it obvious to others? how do they express their love? do they brag about their s/o to others?)

Steven feels like nothing can bother him. His smile is wider and his eyes sparkle whenever he thinks of you. He compliments you all the time and gives you lots of tender kisses and touches, spoils you a bit too. He doesn’t really brag, he thinks your amazingness stands for itself.

I = Impression (what first attracted them to their s/o? how accurate was their first impression to how their s/o actually is?)

He just thought you were very pretty when you first met, very sweet and cute. Evidently he was correct :)

J = Jealousy (do they get jealous easily? how do they deal with it?)

Steven rarely gets jealous. He’s not an arrogant guy in any way really, but he is confident in himself and in your relationship.

Things like money, power or status don’t threaten him, but appearance, particularity musculature, does. Steven’s quite the lean, slim guy, and sometimes he thinks he might not be strong or masculine enough for you, no matter how much you disagree. It honestly made him hurt a little when you jokingly called Leon, the Galar champion, a himbo.

When he is jealous, he gets a little stiff, he frowns, he holds onto you a little tighter if you’re around the person who makes him jealous. When he’s alone, he laments about it.

K = Kiss (are they a good kisser? what was their first kiss like? where do they kiss the most?)

Steven is a suave, smooth kisser, each kiss makes you feel like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

Your first kiss with him felt right, he gently cupped your cheeks and kissed you slowly in a manner that portrayed exactly how he felt about you.

He likes to kiss your cheek and forehead, and sometimes your knuckles if he’s holding your hand.

L = Little Things (what are the little things they love about their s/o? are they attentive?)

He loves how kind you are, loves how you treat his Pokémon like each one is the cutest ever, even if they are decidedly not cute. He likes how you look after him, making sure he sleeps and eats, showing up to his house randomly with treats or just to visit him. He really appreciates it.

M = Marriage (do they want to get married? how do they propose? what would the wedding be like?)

Making you his spouse would make him so happy!

His proposal would be very intimate, a night time picnic, either stargazing, watching fireworks or a meteor shower. He’d turn to you, with a soft smile, and tell you exactly how much you mean to him, and how much he loves you. Then, he would take out a small velvet box and ask you to marry him. The ring would be jaw-droppingly ornate, with your favourite gem in the middle.

The wedding would be intimate too, very swanky, with geode centrepieces and formal attire. He’d ultimately like to hold it in somewhere like Reflection Cave, but he’s down to hold it in a castle or hotel otherwise, with nice gardens of course.

N = Nicknames (what do they call their s/o? what do they get called?)

He calls you sweetheart, darling, love, my gem.

You call him Stevie, babe and dreamboat. Sometimes rock nerd or dork if he’s going on about geology.

O = Open (do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? is it easy for them to share?)

He’s pretty open, once you two have been together for a good while. He trusts you enough to tell you his insecurities and darkest thoughts, like how he feels burdened by the weight of his responsibilities, how his strained relationship with his father affects him, or how he still has trauma regarding the loss of his mother.

Just make sure to give him a big hug after he tells you, ok?

P = Pancakes (are they a good cook? how often do they cook for their s/o? breakfast in bed or fancy dinner dates?)

Steven cannot cook to save his life. He never needed to learn, they had a personal chef at home when he was growing up, and when he was older he would go out for food or get it delivered all the time. This continues when you get together, he always insists on paying.

That being said, he’s definitely up to learn, especially if you teach him, or if you can’t cook either, he’d love to learn with you.

Q = Quirk (a random quality/ability that is beneficial to their relationship.)

Steven has a super gentle, super careful touch, which means he gives the most amazing scalp massages. You have no choice but to melt when his fingers are caressing your head.

R = Romance (how romantic are they? are they cliché or creative?)

Extremely romantic, more elegant than corny. He wants you to know how beautiful and amazing you are, and he wants to put in effort to prove that point.

S = Sleep (who falls asleep first? do they need their s/o close to them? do they have any bad habits?)

You do usually, he likes to watch you snooze before he falls asleep. He likes to have you close to him, but he can sleep without you just fine, not waking up next to you is really more of a pain to him.

For bad habits? Steven has a tendency to lose track of time and go to bed very late. It can be frustrating when you need a good cuddle before bed, and when you have to deal with a barely-conscious, sometimes grouchy Steven in the morning.

T = Thrill (do they need to spice up their relationship with new things or do they stick to a routine? how often do they do new things?)

If Steven wants to go somewhere or do something, he does because he has the luxury to. So when it comes to new experiences, like visiting somewhere new, trying a new activity, and you both want to go there or try it, he will have it organised straight away.

He only really has a routine when league business is in full swing, and when he is no longer champion, anything goes. Though if you have a routine, he will work around it.

U = Unity (did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? what traits do they share?)

Steven, due to his wealth and connections, had a habit of dropping everything to go on trips or rock-hunting whenever he felt like, which was detrimental to many of his relationships, mainly because he wouldn’t notify people before he left.

You, however, have taught him the importance of taking other people’s feelings and opinions into account. You’re so attentive with him, and in turn, he learns how to do just that with all the important people in his life.

You’re both kind people, who care deeply about each other and Pokemon

V = Value (how important is their relationship to them? what is it worth compared to other things in their life?)

At the beginning, the relationship is just a luxury for him, something he enjoys, but not something he needs in his life. But the longer you two are together, the more important you and your needs become to him.

You definitely become his point of focus, your happiness is his goal. He doesn’t stop engaging in his hobbies and interests, but he does do so in a manner that disrupts your relationship the least.

You are his rock, the love of his life, and he puts you before everything.

W = Wild Card (a random fluff headcanon.)

Cried while drunk at his Bachelor Party because he just really wanted to be married to you already and he could not understand why he had to wait to do so.

X = XOXO (do they like to kiss and cuddle? are they upfront about their relationship or rather shy when in public?)

Steven is quite affectionate at home, lots of soft kisses, hugs and long cuddles.

In public, his displays of affection are very elegant and appropriate. He wants you to know he loves you and finds you beautiful, even when in public. He likes to hold your hand, or rest his on your hip or the small of your back.

Will kiss your lips as a greeting or to say goodbye, but will mostly stick to occasionally kissing your cheek or forehead when you’re out.

Y = Yearning (how do they cope when they spend time away from their s/o? do they miss their s/o?)

Steven really starts missing you when there’s no way you can be together, like when he’s abroad and/or working. Usually during these times, he texts frequently and calls you at least once a day, provided he’s not stuck in some cave. He likes to gaze fondly at pictures of you, planning how he’ll make it up to you when you reunite

Z = Zoo (do they have pets? do they want some in the future?)-

Of course! He is/was a champion after all, so he has his pokemon team, plus some random beldum floating around. You treat his like your own, and vice versa, so it’s a very happy household.

#steven stone #steven stone x reader #steven stone fluff #champion steven #champion steven x reader #tsuwabuki daigo x reader #tsuwabuki daigo #oras #silver haired dreamboat

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canyouhearthelight · 3 years

Text

The Miys, Ch. 141

Last week I posted a day early because vacation was doing vacation things to my sense of time.... This week I forgot to queue the chapter up because Monday was a work holiday, so I forgot today was Tuesday. *insert facepalm here please*

Thanks on this one go largely to @baelpenrose who rightfully pointed out that one part made very little sense to him and therefore was unlikely to make sense to a reader. The clarification smoothed things out quite a bit, I think. Just in case, whoever spots the area I’m talking about gets a cookie as soon as travel restrictions lift.

As always, thanks go also to @the-raven-fae, @charlylimph-blog, and @anotherusrname for completing the corners of my support system. And, a super-duper extra-special to @drinksteawithcake! I don’t know if I am allowed to tell everyone why, but you know why you get the extra-special, and I hope you are having fun!

BWAAAAAHP! BWAAAAAHP!

“Uhhh?” I squinted in complaint as flailing arms clambered over me. One pair snagged me around my waist to drag me from bed before depositing me shakily on my feet. “What are you - ?”

BWAAAAAHP! BWAAAAAHP!

Any trace of sleep was shoved out of my system, replaced by sizzling alertness when I realized I was hearing ship-wide alarms. Shoving myself into the first clothing I grabbed, not even bothering with shoes, I was hot on Conor and Maverick’s heels as we raced out of our quarters and into the corridor. We paused only long enough for both men to kiss me and for “I love yous” to be exchanged before they turned and headed toward the areas indicated on their datascreens, while I hauled ass toward the Archives, ducking and twisting to avoid anyone in my path.

“Forty minutes,” Tyche told me crisply as I basically fell through the door, panting. “The Ark could be invaded and the battle over by the time you make it.”

“I ran….huff….the whole….ugh….way….” I managed to gasp out. Part of me felt like puking, but I was pretty sure the muscles in my abdomen were too busy to figure out the logistics.

Clicking her tongue, she pulled me up from the floor. “Alistair, make a note to suggest to Xio that Sophia’s quarters be relocated once we have a better idea of when we are dropping into real space.”

I nodded numbly. “And probably… amp up… sensors… give… earlier… warning.”

“Nice outfit, by the way,” she laughed quietly as we finally reached the shelter point within the Archives.

Glancing down, I had to suppress a sigh. The first thing I grabbed to dress myself had apparently been a pair of Conor’s boxer shorts and a very filthy t-shirt that I assumed belonged to Maverick, since Conor’s was usually under coveralls. “At least you can’t say I took my time getting dressed.”

Her shaking head was greeted by faces in various states of wakefulness - this had been a drill, and woke nearly the entire Ark during their sleep interval on Delta shift. But we weren’t out of the woods, yet: the drill didn’t end until all of Xiomara and Evan’s scenarios played out, including the mock combat and various tests of concealment for the other shelters. As such, Tyche stood guard over the choke-point into this section, while Alistair had stayed behind at the entrance.

Early on, when the drills started, there had been fifty-fifty odds that the mock-invaders would make it this far, but over the past few weeks, that had narrowed to maybe twenty-percent. It was still too high a chance in my judgement, and Xiomara clearly agreed as she stepped up training schedules and randomized the timing of the drills.

Taking a swig of water from a stash of bottles, I queued up my datapad and stood next to Tyche, watching the ‘casualties’ from a point where no one could see over my shoulder to avoid panic, which I would have done in a real situation. “They didn’t find mess hall seven this time,” I murmured.

She glanced at my screen. “Acoustics are still too damned high. She must not be simulating for that this go around.”

One of the decoy locations lit up. “Looks like this time it’s heavy on thermal.” The location in question had been equipped with a cooking surface, triggered to activate when the klaxons that had woken me up went off. Which Xiomara knew, but did not tell the ‘pirates’ for authenticity.

“How did they get past the combatants this time?” She asked, both curious and slightly worried.

Rolling back the sensor data, I watched it carefully. “Looks like these got in during the initial breaches, multiple points. But the line has held since, that’s good.”

Doing another check toward Alistair’s direction, she didn’t seem to see anything concerning. “How many?”

“Four,” I confirmed. “Sam’s thermal camouflage is working beautifully, though.” I couldn’t help but grin, and Tyche snorted at the same time. ‘Thermal camouflage’ was a bit of overkill as a name, but it was working well in every round. Potential access points were equipped with fast-acting environmental simulators - originally designed for temporary habitats on inhospitable moons - modified to release atmosphere like a Terran equatorial rainforest within one minute in an enclosed space. It was a much more simple and elegant solution than any others we had found for giving combatants defending the Ark an advantage - instead of trying to create technology to make them look colder, make the entire area match human heat signatures. Boom, instantly blinded enemies.

A tense half-hour later, the ‘all clear’ sounded, queueing grumbling from those who had dozed back off as everyone stood to make their ways back to their quarters. I waited with Alistair and Tyche for everyone else to be accounted for on the way out, and the three of us headed back toward our quarters together. Alistair peeled off first, living closest to the Archives, and no sooner had my sister and I reached my door than the page sounded for the post-drill meeting. She waved me off as she answered on her databand, and I did the same as I pushed into my quarters and flopped on the couch. “Councillor Sophia Reid, present, audio only,” I answered. “And no jokes, Pranav… I look like I smell awful.”

“Alistair Worthington, present, audio and video. I can confirm that she does, and she does.”

Laughter filled the comms and the rest of the group leaders and Councillors joined the debrief. Finally, everyone was present and Xiomara called the meeting to order. First, the leaders of each shelter reported in, as those usually went the fastest. There were a couple malfunctions in the deployment of the shielding to disguise the entrances and hide heat and electrical signatures, but nothing Huynh’s team couldn’t fix. Tyche and Alistair made the recommendations around earlier detection and the need to move those sheltering in the Archives closer as we approached time to drop out of relativistic space.

Once that was out of the way, it was on to the combat and invasion teams. Overall consensus was that Sam’s trick with the portable environments was a rousing success and would be installed at each point determined to be most likely as a breach, with trigger conditions to be determined later. “I hate to say it,” Michael sighed, “but we also need Charly’s team to crank up the scovilles on the arrows and grenades.” His team had played the ‘invaders’ this go around, equipped with sensors and readouts to simulate the effect our defenses would have on the various species who most commonly were found on pirate vessels. Evan had worked intensely with Pranav and Derek to ensure that the strategies provided by the readouts were modelled after similar strategies based on which ever species each team member was assigned, to ensure we weren’t accidentally drilling against human tactics.

Michael hated it, but he was strict about his team complying nonetheless.

“Seriously?” I squawked, and I wasn’t the only one. “One of those things accidentally went off in my quarters…. Can confirm, they’re pretty potent.”

“They dissipated too fast against my team, and also the contact element left a lot to be desired. Charly, you may want to consider adding a sticking element.”

“Duly noted,” she chimed in with a yawn, her normal pep doused by being woken up and then the drop in adrenaline post-combat.

“What about the sonic weapons?” Xiomara asked, moving the meeting along.

“Still less effective than Nixe is on her own,” a familiar voice I couldn’t put a name to responded with a sheepish tone. “How hard would it be to train more people to shatter glass with their voice?”

“Incredibly,” Grey stressed. “It takes a very unique combination of training and the right vocal chords.”

“Then we may need to work on adding a projection component. The sonic devices can match the pitch, but not the actual tone and direction. They’re very effective given time and especially contact, but we need something more immediately disabling.”

Xiomara groaned. “Are we back to Mariah Carey on this one?” Objections exploded until she muted the comms. “It’s that or opera.” Votes started scrolling up the screen, and I could see Xio nod. “Opera it is. Let’s find a suitable piece and try using more analogue-style speakers.”

“I still say that death metal would work better,” Arthur suggested as soon as the comms were back on.

“Annnnd we already tested it, I will remind you. The volume works, but the pitches aren’t high enough to hit a broad enough population of species sensitive to sound.” After that nearly-obligatory objection, the meeting continued going through reports from each combat team until finally Xiomara announced the end results. “I have to admit, this was one of our best drills yet. Ten percent casualties of the combatants defending the breaches, only two percent among non-combatants, and the invaders were only able to traverse three decks before they were subdued.” She let the cheers go for a couple seconds before getting everyone’s attention again. “Yes, great job on the improvements, but let me remind everyone - those numbers still leave us below threshold for a healthy genetic population. Engineering teams, make the necessary adjustments with whatever resources are necessary. Shelters Three and Seven, you will start training for armed and unarmed combat with Shelter Fourteen and Combat Team Two daily. Sophia, your team will coordinate schedules. Any questions?”

There were no arguments, not even a groan or mutter as the meeting was dismissed. Before I could even add the new task to my agenda the next day, I received the notification that Alistair had beaten me to the punch.

Glancing at the time, I wanted to hit something. I had to be back up and at work in four hours, and the realization weighed me down with exhaustion. The guys had come in and gone to bed while I was in the debrief, and I could already hear synchronized snoring coming from the bedroom. Rather than risk waking them with my now-frozen feet, I pulled the quilt off the back of my couch and rolled myself into it. Only minutes later, a heavy weight oozed across my hip and started purring furiously.

“Yeah, buddy. I agree. We need a nap.”

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#the miys #found family #humans are weird #science fiction #aliens #apocalypse #humans are space orcs #humans are space fae #earth is space australia #post apocalypse #post post apocalypse #original science fiction #original sci fi #original writing

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slashxrose · 3 years

Text

•Slash Imagine ~

Name: cannot resist you.

Posted on: Wattpad (user: Slashxrose)

Warnings: unprotected sex, dirty talking, gagging.

Narration: first person.

Summary: you couldn't wait till Slash stops working, everything you wanted was him between your legs so you try to caught his attention until he couldn't resist you.

Narrator:

The click of her heels perks her husband's ears up with instinctive interest, but nothing else as he focuses on the task at hand. It's now late at night and the need for him to be in bed next to her is unyielding.

I saunter over to Slash for the third time tonight, my hand skimming the edge of the mahogany while observing his taut posture. I watch as his hands go to work, admiring the sinewy dance they make. The veins atop his hands scatter throughout, his tendons flexing as his wrist flicks while writing. Wear and tear decorate his hands beautifully, showing his proud age with scars and wrinkles. Long, masculine fingers grip the white and gold fountain pen I gifted him with such elegance, it almost makes me jealous of the pen. The gold adorning his fingers glistens under the only light source in the room, a stained-glass lamp on his desk.

Slash's eyes slyly shift over my form as I marvel at his hands, observing the lack of clothes I have on. My body is on full display under a sheer black babydoll set. White-hot arousal rises from his gut to his chest as he rakes over my bare breasts, honing in on the hard peaks of my nipples. Lower and lower, he inspects the translucency of my panties, he can see everything. He inhales irritably, wishing I wouldn't be right in front of him looking so appetizing when he has work to do.

"I'm busy," he says sternly, without looking at me.

My husband knows where this is going and in the back of his mind, he doesn't care. Ignoring his statement, I maneuver into his lap so that I'm facing him. He sighs as he has no choice but to look at me now. Nostrils flaring, eyebrows scrunching, he scowls me with another elongated sigh.

I situate my center over his crotch and his heart rate speeds up. Slash quickly pushes my torso against his own, almost as if he's trying to hide my face from his view. My head rests against his shoulder, unable to see his face as the hand at my upper back tells me to stay put with a strong force. Wrapping my arms around him, I hug him tightly while my hips start to slowly rotate over him. Immediately, my breathing is heavy against his ear, the blissful friction sliding across my clit, is amazing even over the thick material of his pants.

Slash gulps and fixates on a sentence he can't seem to read, too engrossed as he can feel how wet I am with the glide against his clothed cock. Gasps turn into low moans, my lower half rubbing him faster as he hardens underneath my barely-there panties. My slick splits my folds, causing the thick of him to nestle between my inner labia.

"But I want you." I say in a whisper.

His broad chest heaves, his breathing becoming heavy. My breasts squish against him, every inhale and exhale are felt with immense detail, and he can't help but be absorbed in it. Slash's brown eyes snap up to the chiming clock above the door ahead, signaling midnight has arrived. Stress plagues him all the while I'm taking it away. Time continues to slip his grasp, as does the pen in his hand. Clearing his throat, he tries to carry on with his efforts.

But I lean back and hastily unzip his pants. My meek hands reach beneath his boxers, feeling his hotness before pulling him out. Hot and hard, his thick cock stands with a curve in my hand. Resting at a high position, I hold him still while nudging away my panties. Slash rolls his full lips between his teeth with anticipation of what's to come, desire riddling his entire body. Rolling my hips upwards, my clit skims the ridge lining the underside of his length before I glide back down with the innermost wetness of my pussy.

"Oh, my damn god." I moan, clutching onto one of his shoulders tight to maintain stability.

Now breathing out of his mouth, he lets out a whisper of a groan as I paint his cock with my essence. My hand begins to massage his swollen tip, spreading the leaking precum. Shutting his eyes, he savors the sublime attention of my slippery fingers and wet pussy.

With a higher ascend, I suddenly spear myself on his shaft with a penetrating whine. Gravity pulls me toward his base with a sting to my stretching walls. The wrinkle between his brows deepens with a clench of his jaw, his eyes rolling back as my sweet pussy consumes him. Raising my hips to lessen the pain, I shallowly ride him until my wetness coats him enough to slam all the way down. Slash grunts and nearly abandons his pen but doesn't as he knows it'll be the end of this facade he's trying to maintain.

I work him up into a blazing abyss while he tries to use his resolve to persevere. The tip of his cock nearly hits my cervix with this position, filling me to the brim. The steady bounce I'm maintaining have me moaning in his ear, gradually unraveling by the second. His cologne invades my senses while burying my face in his neck, inhaling the thrilling scent with each intake of air. Panting, I cling to him with my tired legs, trying to wrap around him as I rock against him.

"Fuck babe, I- shit-" He moans out loud.

Each time I rise, my insides feel an emptiness I can't bear until the mighty stretch of sinking down gives the divine satisfaction of being full of him again.

"You like being a sluty girl for me, huh." He keeps moaning as he grabs my ass. "Feel how your cunt begs for my cock."

On his end, the heavenly scorch of the inferno that is my hot, wet, velveteen walls squeezing him feeds his carnal desire to penetrate me with control. Slowly, his hips start to buck upward, chasing the feeling of my saturated plushness. My high-pitched mewls indicate me impending release, the pulsating beat inside me becoming more frequent with each plunge.

"S- Slash, daddy...." I pule, the look on my face is grave as I pull back to look at him.

Seeing such desperation in my face makes him drop his pen without a single thought. Slash grabs my hips and lifts me to roughly slam up into my drenched cunt. Hissing, he eagerly leans back and devours the small contortions in my face. The pleasure between both of us increases tenfold as he controls the pace with my body and the power of his hips. Sure, I could ride him the whole night, but with Saul Hudson, it's an entirely different type of gratification only he can deliver. Slash drives into me like rapid-fire, ceaselessly slamming through my fluttering walls.

"What a desperate little cunt you have here," he says through clenched teeth, leching at my straining hole with a cocky tilt of his head. "Sucking me in like you can't live without my cock being buried inside you," he says with such poise it makes me lose it.

My jaw gapes open, letting out waves of wails that coax a vicious, almost painful speed of his hips. As my body recoils and quivers, my insides squeeze him.

"You're really cumming over that?" He roughly growls, his own orgasm hitting him. "Is my wife that much of a whore?" He snarls, his rough mouth intensifying my releases.

The tightness around him brings his release head-on and he sharply grunts before exhaling out a drawn-out groan. A hot rush surges through his shaft, resulting in thick strings glazing my insides. With impossible brute force, his hands clench around my hips hard enough to leave marks while pounding his spurting cock upward. Rolling waves of hot bliss wash over me as my cling to his solid body, the air being knocked out of me from his forceful thighs banging against me.

"Bab-e" the moans do not stop coming out of my mouth.

With a slight sneer to his mouth, Slash captures my lips in a fervid kiss, one that cuts my voice short. Tongues openly swirl around one another, moans and groans mixing in a harmonic cacophony.

"Holy shit, I'm gonna cum.... shit." he moans against my lips.

Sighing heavily through his nose, leftover jitters jolt his body with the last remnants of his orgasm hitting him. My walls gradually relax around him, hugging him while thick fluid flows from the junction between our bodies. Clutching onto him, I lift off him and feel as empty as ever without him. Standing on wobbly legs, I struggle to stand on the stilts of my heels. Warm semen seeps down my inner thigh, prompting me to look down at it. Slash catches the liquid with a finger, swiping it up as more drips down. Just the feeling of the pads of his fingers near my center nearly makes me topple over.

"Clean this mess," he orders, offering me his glossy fingers.

I gaze at him while opening my mouth, his fingers gliding to the back of my tongue. My lips close around his digits as his finger pulls out. Smiling, I lean over to kiss him but he stops me with a finger on my lips and a raised eyebrow.

"Did I not say clean this mess?" He repeats pitilessly.

I look down at his still hard, glistening cock as semen pools around his balls and trickle down his pants. Immediately, I sink down to my knees between his legs, licking my lips as I inspect the immense girth of him. Gingerly grabbing his base, my eyes snap up to his before licking collecting the hone he so graciously is giving to me with a fat stripe up his tall length. Slash's nostrils flare in arousal, watching me lick up his seed like a glazed candy. Even though it's bitter, it's the sweetest thing I've ever tasted as I see that he's enjoying himself.

The drip of his seed between my thighs distracts me every so often as it coats my skin in a glassy luster. My lovely tongue peeks from my lips tantalizingly as it slithers around the fat veins of his cock, smoothing over them deliciously. Reaching the tip, I lick the small slit at the top, collecting even more of the tasty liquid. While keeping his semen in the back of my mouth, I continue slurping up the mess all the way down to the bottom.

My husband lets out a hiss as my tongue cups one of his balls, softly sucking it into my mouth. A deep pinch between his brows appears and the muscles framing the back of his jaw flex as he pushes his hair back, revealing more of his handsome face. Almost breathless, he watches my mouth at his balls with an expression that spurs me on. With the acidic fluid now gone, I can't help but keep licking him until my lips reach the tip. I wrap my lips around the sensitive, swollen head and suck harder than he'd like, making his hips jerk up. He groans and snatches me by the hair, lifting me off him.

Leaning forward, he moves close to my face, tilting his head mockingly at me.

"I don't think you're in a position to toy with me when you are my toy babe," he muses, placing a finger over your closed mouth.

Slash grabs the frame of my jaw roughly, wedging his index and thumb between my teeth from the outside so my mouth opens. He smirks triumphantly seeing his release in my mouth.

"Swallow me," he orders.

I swallow the bittery goodness and stick my tongue out to show off my compliancy. Slash smiles, reclining against the chair and pulling my hair at the root. Jerking my face closer to his cock, he smashes my lips to his length before forcing my mouth over it. I whine as his cock drives through my parted lips, the fleshy hardness of it hitting the roof of my mouth. My brows scrunch while trying to not gag around him as he pushes me halfway down.

"I know you can take it all with that expert mouth of yours," he croons, holding my head down until he feels my throat open up for him. "That's it, my girl, my babygirl."

His thickness penetrates my throat and I concentrate on breathing properly without gagging. Bobbing my head atop his cock, his fingers tighten in my hair with each thrust, getting lost in the feel of my mouth and throat. Slash's eyebrows quirk up as my moans pitch higher, wondering why I'm enjoying this more than usual. Through the gap between my mouth and his cock, he can see that my pussy is still oozing his cum. With a smug grin, he moves his leather loafer below me, raising the tip of it to skim my drooling center. Gasping, I moan against his cock as he rubs my clit against his shoe.

"Nasty girl, getting turned on by her husband's shoe," he sneers, pushing me further down his cock until my nose is buried in his black pubes. "Does my cock taste good knowing my seed is spilling from you?" He growls, increasing the pace of my head.

I whine, his cock muffling my voice. Tears begin to break the barrier of my lashes and stream down thickly, making for a wonderful view of my struggling face. He rubs my pussy tauntingly slow, patting my entrance with a vile gush. Though he's teasing me, he's ultimately riling himself up further as he twinges in my throat.

"Since your little pussy can't keep my seed in, I think I need to refill it again, tesoro," he coos, pulling me off his cock with a nasty pop.

Strings fall down my chin, my lips glossy and my cheeks full of tears. I nod and he smiles warmly through the heat of his impending release.

"But you have to promise me that you won't bother me again like this if I do," he says.

"Okay, daddy." I reply.

Slash smiles, helping me up with attentive hands, and in the back of his mind, he knows full well I'm lying. Picking me up and placing me atop his desk, he hikes my right leg against his torso with my heel cresting his wide shoulder. Leering brown eyes roam my filthy thighs while curling a possessive arm around my thigh, dragging my bottom to the edge of the desk. My palms splay on top of the desk beside me as I sit up, wanting a good look at him while he plows me. The tips of his fingers slip a bit, prompting him to delve his fingers deep into the flesh of my inner thigh to keep a strong grip over me. Standing straight, the desk is a perfect height for him to align his cock up with my entrance without having to dip his body low. My other leg rests against the wood, bent with an inviting spread to my legs.

I stare up at him with wanting eyes and he can't help but fall deeper in love with me with that expression. He lays the curvature of his cock against my slit, making me moan before moving back his hips. With the head of his cock trailing lower to my hole, he slams into me with a roll of his eyes. His cock glides in with little to no resistance as the mixture of fluids in me make for a sensuous massage. I squeal, my hands nearly slipping from the powerful thrust. Placing his free hand on my other thigh, he grips it hard before pulling out and driving back in. My little whimpers turn into hiccup moans, tears quickly returning to my lashline as he hits me deep. Slash loves the fact that he can control the pleasure in me, experience with each thrust as if he has my emotions in the palm of his hand.

"This is what you wanted? Honey." he mumbled.

"Not enough, I need more daddy." I faced him

His features quickly hardened.

"You need more? Okay sweetheart, you're gonna have more so."

Gritting his teeth, he watches me spread around him as I did earlier, this time though, he's quicker than ever as he nears his release. Strands of his bangs fall back down to his forehead, leaving his hair perfectly messy with each undulating sway. Tip to base, he makes me feel every detail of him, sinking into me so deep he brushes the crest of my cervix.

Oh god.

The thick veins coiling around his cock beat in tandem with his heart, his cock head throbbing and leaking profusely with precum. Ducking his head low, he rests his forehead against mine, his nose rubbing the side of us as he fervently fucks me.

"Squeeze me like you always do babe," he growls, placing a thumb over my clit and rotating. My walls instantly tighten and he groans needily. "Just like that, you're perfect," he says hastily, giving me his all.

Striking my bottom with his hips with a loud clap, he pounds into me vehemently, relishing in the sweet squelch between my legs. Parted lips meet in an opened mouth kiss, one that is lazy as the two of us begin to swiftly unravel. The tips of my tongues twirl together hotly before he retracts his muscle earlier than expected, his breath labored as his hips move on their own.

"Gonna stuff you full with my seed," he mumbles through clenched teeth.

Slash slams against me with a terrifyingly crash, jolting my body within his tight grasp. The urge to fill me is strong and so he snaps into me ferociously, ejaculating inside of me once more. His cock pulses inside of me with a coaxing sensation, drowning me in a wash of bliss. His thumb relentlessly rubs my clit through his strenuous efforts, wanting me to have the utmost pleasure imaginable. Wrapping his arms around me, he desperately hugs me to his body as he can barely pull out of my rippling walls, eager to stay buried inside me. With each thrust, he hisses sharply, sensitive, and in awe of how I can just disarm him so easily just by coming into his study.

He swallows thickly before holding me and crashing back down in the chair as it creaks loudly.

"I don't think this chair is going to last if we keep this up," he chuckles gruffly, idly skimming my back with his fingertips.

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starlightxsvt · 3 years

Text

Sweeter Than Sweets l pt. 3

Pairing ➳ CEO! Seungcheol x female baker!reader

Genre ➳ fluff, romance, slight smut

Warnings ➳ light cursing, some nudity, implications of sex (forgive me if it's bad, this is my first time trying to write smut)

Word count ➳ around 4.1k

A/N: Here's the third chapter~ I'm really sorry for the delay. If everything goes according to plan then there's only one more chapter left! Thank you for giving this series such love, it means a lot to me. Happy reading!

part 1 l part 2 l part 3

Part 3: THE WEDDING

"It's okay, you're gonna be fine," Seungcheol throws a smile at you as you both stand at the front door of his parents house. You continue to smooth out your beautiful champagne coloured dress and touch your hair out of nervousness.

You are here. At his parents house.

The door is opened by a maid who welcomes you into the house. You both step in and take off your coats and you follow Seungcheol to the huge living room, where his mother sits with a book in her hands.

She squeals seeing Seungcheol, adoration crossing over her features as she wraps her arms around him and kisses his forehead. "You're here! I was worried you wouldn't show up!"

"You deserve a chance to get to know ___. She's amazing," his compliment brings warmth in your cheeks as he pulls you closer to his side.

His mother grins looking at you before pulling you into a hug, "Yes yes, of course." She kisses your cheeks before a soft bark comes from behind you and you turn to see a white fluffy toy poodle, wagging it's tail, eagerly staring at Seungcheol. The man in question grins before picking it up, "Heyy, Kkukma!"

"She's our family dog. Loves Seungcheol a bit too much," Seungcheol's mother explains and you smile, nodding before gently petting the dog who licks your hand in return.

You laugh. Seungcheol kisses Kkukma's forehead before announcing, "You guys continue chatting. I'll go play with Kkukma."

You swallow, watching him disappear into the garden and his mother grins at you, "Let me show you around."

His mother walks you through their elegant house while asking about how you met Seungcheol and such. You speak the rehearsed lines and she believes them easily, making you feel somewhat bad for the poor woman.

"Seungcheol really isn't good with women, you know," his mother says while you're served a cup of tea after finishing the tour.

You offer a smile in reply and take a sip. She continues, "He used to like a girl quite a while ago. Told me that he wanted to marry her. But sadly, she turned out to be a leech who was using him for his money."

"That's... awful," you frown. Seungcheol never told you about it. But then again you're his fake lover and you mentally curse yourself for getting too much into your role.

"I take it he didn't tell you about that," She smiles. "Don't worry, he's long over her. That just made him shut himself out more. He assumed that all women were after his money but I'm glad to see he found someone like you."

You cringe inwardly. You too, are here because of money more or less. You are doing all this because he promised you a shop.

"Me too," you agree with her, playing along. She smiles. A sound catches both of your attention and you see Seungcheol's father standing at the entrance of the living room, his wary eyes casted on you. You almost choke but quickly redeem yourself by standing up and saying hi. He disregards you completely with a grunt and walks away murmuring something unintelligible.

Seungcheol's mother sighs loudly, "I'm so sorry about him."

"It's okay, I understand. Seungcheol told me about him." You mutter.

His mother offers you a sad smile. "He's been so mean to Seungcheol. To us. It was my mistake that I married that beast."

You say nothing, just stare at the cup in your hands.

She continues, "I would have divorced him long ago but he would have taken full custody over Seungcheol. I couldn't win against a man like him and I couldn't loose Seungcheol."

"I see," you whisper. His mother gently holds your hand, "I sincerely hope you won't take his words to heart. He has always been like that. Nothing we do can make him happy."

You offer her a smile, "It's really okay, Mrs. Choi."

"Minsoo, please. You're gonna be me daughter in law soon," she smiles sweetly at you. "Which reminds me! We need to set a date!"

Warmth spreads on your face as you smile, "Yeah..."

And so she starts discussing with you about the dress the venue and such and you find yourself enjoying her company. She's kind and gives full attention to you and it fills the void created by your own mother. You know you're going to miss this woman after you're divorced.

Everyone gathers at the dining table during lunchtime, including Seungcheol's father. The environment is tense as Seungcheol takes a seat beside you, opposite to his parents.

Seungcheol drops a kiss on your temple and smiles at you, flashing his dimples and you almost melt into a puddle right there. Shit, have you got it that bad?

His father's eyes bore into the two of you, clearly disapproving.

Lunch starts as Seungcheol's mother initiates conversation with her son about work. It goes well for a while- you enjoying the served food and listening to them talk- until Mr. Choi decides to break it.

"What does your parents do?" He throws at you.

Seungcheol frowns, "Father-"

You stop him by squeezing his hand and smiling at him, "It's okay, babe, he should know."

Your eyes meet Mr. Choi's, "My mother separated with my father a long time ago so I don't have contact with him anymore. My mom runs a restaurant at the suburbs."

Mr. Choi is unimpressed, you can see it in his face as he seems to judge you even harder. Mrs. Choi, however, has a different reaction, "Oh dear! It must have been hard for your mother. I'd like to meet her sometime soon."

You smile at her, "My mom kind of isolated herself after the divorce but of course, I'll let her know."

Shit, you haven't even told her you're getting married yet.

Mrs. Choi's smile is kind as she resumes eating. Mr. Choi scoffs before grunting, "I still don't understand why you chose her, Seungcheol. I know you've always been stupid but now I know you're on another level, choosing her out of all women."

Wow. You're left dumbfounded at his straight forwardness. Beside you, Seungcheol grips the fork tight as his mother tries to chastise her husband. "Hyungmin, watch what you're saying!" she shrieks.

"What?" His glare is intimidating. "She's neither rich nor pretty. Your son could've had a better looking woman yet he-"

"Enough!" Seungcheol seethes making you jump.

This...isn't gonna end well.

You open your mouth to stop Seungcheol but he bangs his first on the table, teeth gritting, "What is your problem?" He glares at his father.

"I should ask that to you." His father is expressionless.

"All my life I've tried to be a good son, I tried to be good to you no matter how much of an asshole you were to me, to mom. I've accepted that you hate me, I've no problem with that but for once in your life, can't you be supportive of me?!"

His father scoffs, "How can I when you bring a thing like her?"

Seungcheol looks like he's ready to jump on his father as he bellows, "I swear to fucking God-"

"Seungcheol!" You grab onto his arms, trying to stop him as Mrs. Choi starts sobbing.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

"This is why I don't like coming here!" Seungcheol hisses at his mother before jerking free from your hold and marches away.

Seungcheol's father stands up, rolling his eyes, "And you expect me to hand my company to him?" It's directed to his wife.

Angry tears steam down Mrs. Choi's face, "He'd be a better president than you ever were! Your company has come this far only because of my son!"

Her words land on the back of Mr. Choi who blatantly ignores his wife and walks out of the room.

The room is silent except the sounds of Mrs. Choi, trying to get her tears under control. You hand her a tissue and sit silently, watching her dry her eyes.

"I'm so sorry," she says, her eyes casted down.

You offer her a small smile. Mr. Choi's words hurt you, definitely but it's not the end of the world. He's gonna be present in your life for only a small amount of time.

"It's alright, Mrs. Choi, it really is."

She sighs, gazing upon you, her eyes filled with...love. She stands up to embrace you in her arms and holds you there; your head to her chest as you listen to her breathe.

It's comforting and you feel a tear slip down your eye.

Seungcheol walks you all the way to your door like the gentleman he is. His mood is still sour and the car ride was filled with tension. You couldn't really blame him though.

You smile at him, "His words doesn't matter to me. I hope it's the same for you. You don't need to be stressed about what he says to me."

He looks at you, those rich brown eyes looking exhausted and he does something you never expected even in your dreams.

He hugs you.

His strong arms are wrapped around your small frame, your head pressed to his chest. Your heart beats furiously in your chest.

Is this really happening?

You inhale his scent deeply and when you wrap your arms around him too, you can't bring yourself to care. You want to feel him, to hold him. So you two just stand there in front of your door in each others arms for a long time.

"Would you like to come inside?" Your voice is small and shy as he pulls back to look at you. Shaking his head, he does yet another surprising thing.

"Can I kiss you?"

Holy mother of gods-

Your face is on fire, undoubtebly. Your mouth hangs low as you stare at him. Did he just...

He takes your silence as yes and leans in to press his lips against yours. They're soft and plush and he tastes somewhat bitter and sweet from the wine you had at his parent's house. It's addicting and you can't help but moan. He only dives in deeper, kissing you with such passion and need that you're left breathless.

He pulls back, his smoldering gaze on you and licks his lips. You swallow. Your panties are wet, fuck. You want to climb him like a tree but you can't bring yourself to move, locked in a trance.

A gentle kiss is pressed to your forehead that brings you back to reality and he mutters his goodbye, hurriedly ushering you in.

After you're in the safety of your home, you touch your swollen lips, mind traveling back to the kiss.

He kissed you.

Choi Seungcheol kissed you.

"Yes, I'm getting married," you repeat once more to your mother who stays silent on the other side of the line.

"Mom?"

"That's... sudden," her calm voice floats through. Yeah, and I'll be getting divorced too.

"Yeah, we've been dating for more than a year and yeah...he proposed me."

"Wow... nice." She pauses. "Did you fix a date yet?"

"Um, not yet but it's in the next two or three weeks. Also...Mrs. Choi wanted to meet you. Maybe...you could come and visit her sometime...I don't know." There's an awkward tension- it always has been ever since your dad left.

"I'll see if can manage time," she says.

"Okay..." You're about to hang up but her voice wavers through, "And send me a picture of your rich fiance."

"Oh, yeah, I will."

SOME WEEKS LATER

Jane squeals seeing you step out from behind the curtains. You're almost ready with the gown on and your makeup done, only the veil left to be put on.

"Oh my god!" She screams with glee, a grin on her face. "You! Look at you! Oh my god!"

You look gorgeous, undeniably. The wedding gown is almost too beautiful to be real and an expensive purchase, selected by Mrs. Choi. Your makeup and hair is done neatly and you almost don't recognize yourself. Jane only squeals from behind you time to time, saying how amazing you look.

"You're forgetting that this isn't a real wedding," you remind her, your tone bitter than you intended.

Jane raises a brow, "Why do you sound sad?"

Warmth covers your face, "I'm not!" It is a cheap lie, you do feel sad and you know that deep down you wished this was real.

Shit. You've got it really bad.

"Aww, babe," Jane hugs you tightly. "It's okay, it's gonna be okay. Who knows, Seungcheol may fall head over heels for you after seeing you in this."

You roll your eyes, "Not even in my wildest dreams."

A knock on the door interrupts you and your mother steps into the room, dressed in a cream colored dress, her hair neatly done. It has been a while since you last saw her dressed up.

"I'll leave you two to talk," Jane excuses herself, stepping out of the room.

"Hey," you smile tightly. She returns it. "You look beautiful," her words are short and her eyes are teary. There's a short silence before she sighs loudly,"I know I haven't been the best mom...but I'm really proud of you, I hope you know that."

You sigh; you really don't want to cry before your wedding- fake wedding. "It's okay," you give her a small smile and sit down in front of the mirror, "Can you help me with the veil?"

She steps in behind you and starts setting up the veil on your hair, speaking, "Seungcheol is a nice guy, I had a chat with him earlier. He'll take good care of you."

You resist the urge to heave out a sad sigh. Instead you grin as brightly as you can, "I know, right."

She finishes putting the veil on you and you stand up, looking at the mirror, gathering all the last bits of your courage.

"I could walk you down the isle you know...it doesn't always have to be dads," your mother whispers.

"It's okay, I'll do it on my own," you avoid her eyes. This is a fake wedding and you don't want her to walk you down the isle, no. Maybe when you get married for real one day- but not this time.

Giving your mother a quick hug, you step out of the dressing room.

The isle looks dreadful. Walking on a path full of thorns bare feet would've been easier. Seungcheol stands at the other end, his full attention on you. You inhale deeply and take small steps towards him- all the while his eyes on you. You are intimated and in the back of your mind you can't help thinking that this was a very bad decision. You feel pathetic. A bride without anyone to accompany her down the isle. A greedy woman agreeing to a fake marriage. A liar, lying to everyone through your teeth.

Each step only gets harder to take and after what feels like an eternity, you reach the end, stopping in front of him. His face doesn't give away anything. A small part of you wonders if he thinks you look beautiful- you hope he thinks that.

You take a step and get on the wooden stage with the help of his extended hand. The priest begins the ceremony. All the while, Seungcheol's eyes are dark, glinting like a predator who has finally captured his prey.

He smirks. "I do."

With tears burning in the back of your eyes, you repeat after him, overwhelmed with emotions.

When he leans in for the kiss, you forget to breathe as your lips meet and he kisses you softly yet passionately. The guests cheer for you and when you look at them, you see joy, contradicting to what you feel. For some reason tears threaten to slip but you smile, forcing them away.

One fake marriage can't end your life.

You enjoy the rest of the ceremony more than you thought you would, all the worries slipping away from your system as you watch everyone celebrate. Time to time you take peeks at Seungcheol to see him staring at you- his eyes dark and intense, sending a shiver down your spine.

You've spent a good amount of him hanging out with him during the weeks before your wedding, either at his apartment, yours or a nice restaurant. You've only found yourself more drawn to him as you spent more time and after each date ended you wanted him to kiss you like he did after that visit to his parents' house. Unfortunately for you, Seungcheol kept his hands totally off you, only giving you quick forehead pecks as goodbyes.

As your eyes connect, sitting next to each other after the dance, you find yourself craving for him. You want his hands all over you.

Is that wrong?

A sudden, new wave of embarrassment hits you as you enter the limousine after the ceremony. Seungcheol helps you get in before entering through the opposite door as you quickly collect your beautiful dress together and sit quietly, staring at your lap.

It's almost 9 o'clock and the traffic has faded away. Seungcheol is taking you to his penthouse, a place you've only heard him talk about, a place he said you'd enjoy living in.

You wonder how the next couple years would be. How will it be like to live with him? Will you sleep in the same bed every night? Will he even enjoy sharing his house with you? What if he hates having you around?

"Are you ignoring me?" Seungcheol's voice pulls you back to reality.

You try not to appear shy and flustered, "Huh? No, no I'm not."

"You've been awfully quiet since you've walked down the isle."

"Just... thinking." You reply meekly. Damn it, why do you feel so shy?

There's a silence as Seungcheol looks out the window, hands under his chin. You take the moment to appreciate his profile, ogling him unashamedly. You really, truly, want to be in his arms. And you should probably get your head checked.

"Do you regret doing this?" He asks suddenly.

"No! No, I do not," you protest to which he nods, understanding.

After a beat if silence his hand gently cups yours. You stop breathing. "I'll try to make your living as comfortable as possible. Don't hesitate to let me know if you have any problem." His expression is serious and you nod, throat dry. He smile is soft, showing just a bit of his dimples as he holds onto your hand, not letting go. You try to calm your breathing which proves to be an impossible task whenever you look at your joined hands.

After almost an hour drive, the limousine stops and your breath is sucked out as you get out of it. In front of you stands a huge building with the fanciest design and you can't wait to see what's inside. Seungcheol helps you with your dress and casually holds your hand as you both walk into the elevator. It heads for the seventeenth floor and during that whole period of time Seungcheol doesn't let go of your hand. When the elevator stops and you both step out into a large lobby, leading to his penthouse. Seungcheol swipes the card to open the door and it's only after you step into the apartment that he lets your hand go.

You probably look like a deer in headlights as you gawk at the beautiful home, equipped to unbelievably expensive appliances and delicate designing. With high ceilings and full length windows and beautiful pieces of furniture and marble fittings it's too pretty to touch.

All the while Seungcheol's eyes are on you, amused at your reaction. "You like it?" He grins.

"I...wow," you're speechless. "This is...huge." You say dumbly. Seungcheol laughs heartily before once again taking your hand, "Let me give you a quick tour."

And so he does, showing you around the house, the huge kitchen connected to the living room, the library, the study room the guest bedrooms and finally stopping before the master bedroom.

A king sized bed lies by the huge windows. There's a closet with an amount of space you could only dream of. The master bathroom is almost the size of your studio apartment and a wave of embarrassment hits you. Will you ever get used to this? You only feel more embarrassed when you remember that this isn't yours forever.

Shit, ___. Get a grip.

You plop down on the large fluffy bed and pry off your heels from your aching feet. You watch as Seungcheol stands in front of the dresser, slowing undoing his bow tie.

There's a small moment where you both lock eyes before you cough loudly, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. Instead you quietly take off your earnings and reach for the buttons behind your dress- except, your hands can't reach them.

Seungcheol sees you struggling, "Let me do it for you." You almost let out a squeak, feeling shy and excited. You stand up as he appears behind you and starts to unbutton your dress, slowly.

It feels like eternity as you stand, holding your breath, blood pumping loudly in your veins.

Seungcheol's deep voice sends shivers down your spine, "There, done." He says that but doesn't move from behind you, his hands resting on your shoulders as the cool air hits you back. You, too, seems to be stuck on your place as you can't move a muscle. Your conscience slaps her head, what the hell is wrong with you?

"Did I tell you how beautiful you look?" Seungcheol's mouth is extremely close to your ear and you can't help but squeak, warmth spreading through your body like wildfire.

"You look lovely, so beautiful," His voice is deep as he strokes the column of your neck before turning you to face him.

Your eyes are wide like saucers and your face is on fire, literally. Just being this close to him, with none around, makes your brain stop functioning.

He leans in and captures your lips in a kiss, without any warning whatsoever. Your tongues collide and you let him take the lead, his hand grabbing your ass, unashamedly.

"Tell me if you want me stop, I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"No!" You grab onto his broad shoulders and pull him towards you again, meeting your lips once more. Of course you want him. You've wanted him since God knows how long.

While peppering your face with kisses, he pushes down your gown for you to step out of it. The cold air makes you shiver as you're left in a lacy white underwear with garter belts. Seungcheol's eyes move over your, taking in your figure. He swallows before pushing you down onto the bed and climbing over you, hurriedly taking off his suit jacket and shirt.

His eyes are locked on yours and your heart is beating a mile a minute. He looks like some god, his black locks messy and his chiseled face staring down at you, his strong body on top of you. You can't stop yourself from ogling his torso when his shirt comes off, leaving his toned muscles and biceps for you to see. Before you know it, you're reaching out to touch him. Your fingers dance over his chest and abdomen before your eyes meet and Seungcheol groans, cupping your face for another kiss.

He's quick to strip you off your bra while literring your neck and chest with kisses and bites. After fully undressing you and taking yet another unembarrassed look at your body Seungcheol asks, "Are you sure?"

You whine, needy and impatient, "Yes, please, Seungcheol. Fuck me." You're surprised at your own eagerness but it only turns Seungcheol on, a devilish smirk on his lips.

"My pleasure sweetheart." He whispers before going down between your legs.

Soft morning light hits your face, waking you up in the process. It takes a while for you to assess everything and you feel your body, especially lower half, ache deliciously- an aftermath of the numerous orgasms Seungcheol gave you yesterday night.

A strong arm is wrapped around your waist from behind, making you feel warm and safe. You sigh, playing with the wedding ring on your finger.

You're married now. To Choi Seungcheol. Shit.

Instead of letting your mind start overthinking, you gently turn around to face your husband, careful not to wake him up.

He lies there, fast asleep, his beautiful features relaxed, the morning light giving him an angelic glow. Before you can stop yourself, you're reaching out to stroke his face, your gentle fingers tracing his skin. He's so soft, so beautiful. Your heart constricts, thinking about how much you want to spend the rest of your life in his arms.

You'd be more than happy to be by his side, sharing a home with him, helping him whenever he's in need, making a family-

A sudden realisation that you tried to bury all this time dawns on you, bringing tears to your eyes.

You're in love with Choi Seungcheol.

Taglist: @chimikima @all-i-needislovee @peekabooseoksoon @masterpiecejoonie @sorrywonwoo @sweetiescoops @diamondsvts @insidesvt @bononswife @ayla-hathway @kpopssuregi @justasoftstan @top-crop @wainrain @jisungsdreamy @moon-asia @rocketink @hobis-hopeworld @coppertrashi @honeyyjihoon @seoulnights5 @rjsmochii @1-800-fandomsdestroyedme @mimaisiomai @gyubagebin @chrryhwa @junsfei

A/N 2: Please know that reblogs hold a special meaning to writers, so if you enjoyed it please reblog. And if can spare a few seconds, kindly reblog with comments. The feedback I get from everyone encourages me to write, so please do that 💖.

Also, Choi Seungcheol please come wife me up.

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mannien · 3 years

Text

Mornings in Sheffield Park | TH - PROLOGUE

The one with graduation, daisies and carnations, and a hopeless emotional addiction.

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: some stress and anxiety here and there

Some feelings are addictive. It’s easy to get used to the way something tingles with excitement, warms up with passion, or stings with powerful adrenaline rush. People get comfortable with feelings known and desired and more often than not, they turn them into coping mechanisms. Whatever sticks their wobbly pieces together the longest, is the ultimate solution. Feelings don’t need to be entirely positive or with pure intentions behind them. As long as they cover up the shattered pieces, they stay. They may enhance some experiences, especially when someone decides to stick with something as simple as joy. But some make life more difficult than it seems; they mess up the timeline and allow people to feel so many wrong things before reaching the truth.

An array of emotions weaves through fresh university graduates. A sense of freedom and relief is somewhat clouded by fear or excitement. Someone has an internship lined up, their friends take a year to travel across Europe, a roommate has an apprenticeship at their next job. Others might take things slow and see what the future holds, while some students get prepared to have a fresh start. The overall unknown seems to be the underlying tone in the speeches during the graduation ceremony, but each person in polished shoes and with a rapid heartbeat subconsciously sticks to a feeling that makes them feel more at ease.

Students of each program are called on stage. Every little success along the way is cradled into slippery hats and fitted gowns with the university’s subtle emblem on the front. The audience is sitting on the large balcony above the graduates. People clap with appreciation at each young person walking across the wooden floor and shaking the chancellor’s hand. Some receive a more enthusiastic applause, sometimes even a roar of cheers. As the long queue of journalism graduates makes its way through the hall, the names are listed rapidly. Students walk as if they were a part of an assembly line, trying their best not to delay the process of the nerve-wracking hand-shaking and walking without tripping. The last are always graduates with exceptional results, so the crowds are encouraged to clap vigorously. And that’s what’s heard when the eyes of two women in the audience are focused on the proud figure walking on stage: the loudest cheers of the afternoon so far.

“Remind me, why aren’t we screaming for your boyfriend, and the whole department of journalism is?” A questioning voice surprised Millie so much that she jumped in her seat.

“I’m nervous, Thea. That’s why.”

She stated the obvious. Millie Beaver was the one to frantically fix the sleeves of her gown as a nervous tick. She got up early that morning, dreading the day full of polished festivities and exaggerated elegance requested upon a bunch of tired, educated enough people. The pride in successfully finishing her studies was yet to come; her body was rather keen on reacting dramatically to the large crowds of scholars, pupils and their families. The dread of participating in an unrehearsed event like this clouded her brain and made her focus solely on not loosing it. Though she wouldn’t dare admit it to the smiling man, who was just about to shake some hands on stage. The confidence he wore on his face was something she was used to seeing, even in the least favourable scenarios.

“I still don’t get it, how some people are born so talented that they don’t need to work their asses off to get somewhere,” she shrugged, making her tight black curls shake with her head, “I mean, the hours we spent on reading and researching…”

“I guess we’re just different.”

“Different? It’s not fair, that’s what it is. Patriarchy at its finest.”

The comment made Millie laugh and release some of the tension. Her eyes followed Franklin into the side corridor, where a little crowd of his friends formed a circle around him – the star of the department - before continuing into their seats. His cheerful stance made her bit her lip in excitement; for a moment, she tried to forget about whatever was said through the speakers. She genuinely wanted to be feel happy for him and his academic achievements. After all, she spent previous months on watching him get to the top of their classes almost effortlessly, as if he was born to be talked about by the teachers.

Millie felt her heart speed up at the thought that he might start searching for her for a little cheer, or even a tiny wave of support. But Frank sat down and continued to enjoy his fame, and Thea started to pull her up from the wooden chair.

“Come on, it’s our turn.”

She followed her friend and attempted to smooth out the heavy gown. Her light brown hair flowed as she walked, making her nervously fix it every now and then. She turned to the very end of the queue to find Jane, who wore a wide smile. They made eye contact and the blonde sent her a half-smile, knowing that they are almost through the tough part. It calmed Millie to know that she had her support system, not only up in the balcony, but also somewhere among the students of literary and media studies. At one point she feared that her nightmare of falling off the stage will become reality, but as a surprise to her and her close ones, clumsy Millie walked gracefully and with pride painted across her face.

Mission accomplished: she made it through college without falling.

The main floor of the event hall once again filled with students, their peers, and families. Loud chatter was heard across the building as people were celebrating the achievements of the year’s graduates. Some of the groups moved outside and took in the chilly London air. It smelled of rain and freedom, clouded with light grey pillows in the sky.

The three girls tried to make it through the crowds of chatting people in search for the perfect spot to take pictures together. Jane wore the highest heels of them all, so she was designated to lead them to the wall with the logo of the university. In a tight weave of pinkie fingers, they rushed through the hall just as they would through a college party. Millie felt dizzy from the sea of the same black gowns surrounding them from every angle. Some people waved at them, so she kept her smile wide and left Thea – with her one hand free – to the waving back duty. Their secure escape led them safely to the back wall on the side of the entrance, where some of the students usually found peace between classes and sat down on the floor, watching over the busy entrance to the building during the semester. The carpet remembered a lot of spilled coffees and teas in the wobbly little cups purchased from the cafeteria inside. Millie let out a breath of relief, seeing that only a couple of students found this spot perfect for keeping the memories.

“Hey, congrats! We’re graduates!” Jane welcomed the group that was finishing their poses in front of the wall.

Thea laughed with them, but desperately waved her hand in front of her reddening face to cool off.

“I hate your speed in heels. That was too fast!”

“Don’t worry, at least you don’t have to run to the Linguistics ever again.” Millie pulled her little bag from underneath the gown and looked for a sheet of paper with old notes. As long as Jane was busy chatting up other students, the other two tackled the makeshift air conditioning to prevent Thea’s makeup from running.

“Okay, are we ready for some iPhone memories?” The sound of a snapshot stopped Millie from frantically fanning their friend’s face.

“You sound ready. Do you have a tripod or a selfie stick, though? I want to have a picture with all of you.”

“We could still catch that group and ask someone to snap a few?”

“I’m not running anywhere, I’ve just fixed my face!” Thea puffed her cheeks and did a few more waves around them, certainly for an enhanced dramatic effect.

“Then don’t run anywhere, I’ll call my mom to come here, she’s probably out for a smoke anyway.”

“You really want to have your graduation pictures taken by your mom?” Thea and Millie chuckled at Jane’s resigned sigh. “Maybe Frank could come here? I trust his steady hands more.”

“He was supposed to go to the student’s office after the ceremony. Honours and stuff.” Millie pursed her lips.

“Right when we need him! What a boyfriend.”

“Jane!”

“Do you need a hand, girls?”

A sudden male voice stopped the rising argument and made the three of them look into the corridor. He welcomed them with a warm smile and soft wrinkles by his eyes. With a small bunch of colourful flowers, he stood out in casual, non-graduate clothes, yet with similar youthfulness to him.

“I’m not my brother but I can take a straight picture in focus.”

“What the fuck?” Millie covered her mouth in shock. Hesitantly, she took one step away from Jane and Thea, afraid of her next reaction. “What the actual fuck are you doing here?”

“I came to my friend’s graduation, fancy seeing you here.”

“I’m serious!” She raised her voice and made her way over to him, meeting his steps somewhere in the middle of the distance. He was smiling at her stupidly and she couldn’t stop herself from mirroring his reaction.

“I’m serious too, you made it! That’s so cool!” He opened his arms and invited her in, with a small encouragement of his waving hand.

One of the most addictive feelings are those of an utter comfort and safety. This teasing sparkle making your insides warm up and encouraging you to be a little more positive. That’s precisely what Millie felt when she was engulfed in a tight hug by her childhood best friend. Tom held her tightly across her back and swayed them side to side, earning a hearty laugh from the girl who was now, shining. She felt a sense of genuine relief once he squeezed her in reassurance; her brotherly figure showed up, so she was finally able to relax. Suddenly everything felt easy and perfect. All of the stress, fear of the unknown, anxiety about the grand event of the day, and the rest of damaging emotions slowed down their tempo in her veins, simply because she was home. Her smile swiftly changed into more prominent and definitely brighter by a shade or two. As he held her close, he could feel Millie’s warmth suddenly radiate through his body, making his eyes twinkle with joy because of this very girl.

“Congratulations, Minnie Mouse, I’m so proud of you,” he whispered next to her ear, cautious of what others may hear from their little exchange. She did not need any more nerves weighting her down, so he decided not to make a big scene – even though he definitely wanted to tease her worrying head and make sure she’s having a good time. “you’re all grown up now, so I got you flowers.”

“Oh, so otherwise you wouldn’t?” Millie shook his head, but accepted a small bouquet of carnations and daisies.

“Nah, I know you hate flowers.” He winked at her and put his arm around Millie’s arms, tucking her into his side a little too tightly.

“Absolutely. Thanks Tom, I’ll throw them out after the pictures.”

“Go ahead,” He tucked her in even more, making her squirm in discomfort. It was one of their things, to squeeze one another too tight. It made them feel connected as if they were siblings. They knew how sibling love worked, Tom having three younger brothers and Millie being the youngest of three sisters, but it was refreshing to have it a little spiced up. She let out a shy laugh and pushed him away before taking the delicate bunch from him. She lost the smell of his familiar perfume and took a breath. Once he extended his hand to Millie’s friends, he was back to his public confidence and charm. “Hey! Thea and Jane, right?”

They took an intimidating number of pictures; some of them good enough to share with people, other more fitting into a private photo album filled with silly, heart-warming memories. The group shared a lot of easy laughs together; Millie’s girlfriends eased into the lightly flowing chatter with Tom in no time. It made her sink into the bubble of comfort and light; she was smiling brightly when they reached the entrance to the building. Tom opened the glass door for all of them. A slightly chilly air hit Millie in her blushing cheeks and slowed down the pinky glow spreading across her cheekbones. Somewhere in the distance she noticed her parents lurking excitedly at the group and waving them over expectantly.

There was this heaviness slowing her down and taking up an excess of space in the back of her mind. As they were making their way across the university’s main square, Millie slowly turned her head to the side. She perked up at the sound of loud cheers and noticed a familiar group of students. Among them, there was Frank—laughing and hugging people from his department—and he definitely enjoyed being in the centre of attention. She was sure he didn’t even notice her walking by, but she didn’t want it to affect her as much as it was going to.

In turn, what she didn’t think of was the attention someone would give to her best friend: the smiling, cheerful young man, who was shamelessly chatting up Millie, Thea and Jane.

“Oh my God, is that Tom Holland?”

This simple question, raised somewhere from the group of journalism graduates, didn’t surprise Tom. However, it definitely rose the hairs on the back of Millie’s neck. Though he brushed it off and sent her a reassuring smile, Millie felt panic flowing through her veins. They both knew it could happen, but Tom seemed to be focused more on making her a priority, rather than fearing being recognized as the famous actor. He watched her reaction, now fully aware of her boyfriend emerging from the crowd and skipping towards them.

“Hey, I was trying to find you earlier,” he brushed his hand through his dark blonde hair and gave her a brief smile, before turning excitedly to Tom. “Hey man, I didn’t know you were coming!”

“We just went to…” she paused, seeing as he was already extending his hand towards her friend. “…take pictures.”

“The girls had a nice little photoshoot back inside.” Tom cut short his smile, raising the side of his mouth only to her. He accepted Frank’s handshake but didn’t allow it to turn into a bro-hug. It was fairly easy to read their body language; Franklin tried his best to seem friendly with his girlfriend’s celebrity friend, but the said celebrity was too kind to allow his cheekiness outshine Millie’s comfort zone. Jane and Thea turned their heads away at the sight of palms squeezing a little too tight for a friendly greeting. Frank’s friends and a couple other bystanders watched the exchange with prying eyes, and Millie let out a frustrated groan at the unnecessary tension.

“Cool, cool. Can I steal my girl for a moment?”

Frank didn’t wait for an answer, but rather just took her hand and pulled her to the side, hiding slightly behind the group of people. He fixed the tinsel attached to her hat and winked at her, giving her his full attention. He looked at her with his gleaming blue eyes and made her smile at the intimate moment.

“You good, sweetie?”

“Yeah, just fine.”

“Good. I’ll see you tonight, yeah?”

“Are your parents here? I haven’t seen them.” She looked around, trying to find his mom’s flowing blonde hair.

“They went to get the table at the restaurant nearby. Wanna join us?” He searched her face and leaned in closer, brushing his nose against hers. Millie laid her hand on his shoulder and allowed him into her little space.

“Why are you asking me to choose between our parents?” She chuckled, but patiently waited for his reaction. “Could we all spend time together, at least once?”

“I told you, it’s not a good idea,” Frank brushed his lips against Millie’s, slowly easing her into him and making her return the kiss. “you can ask Tom to come to the party tonight, it’ll be fun.”

“No promises.”

They shared a few more kisses that left Millie breathless - Franklin wasn’t usually the one to publicly show his affection, so she craved anything he willing to give her. She smiled up at him and let him go, happy that he took the minute to catch up with her.

With one last wave of his hand, Frank joined his party. Although he was instantly pulled into celebratory pictures, he couldn’t help but watch Millie walk away; she joined Jane and Thea in a heart-warming group hug. She was just sweet like this: sticking to her people, making sure everyone’s happy, and embracing all the kindness in the simplest actions. Franklin smiled to himself at the sound of her cheerful laugh and turned back to his friends, but then he noticed the source of her laugh. Her and Tom did a barely-there joyful dance, raising their hands and curtseying to her parents. Alfred, her dad, patted him on the back and shook his hand vigorously, while Millie was being squeezed by her mom.

People from Frank’s department praised him for having any kind of relationship with Tom Holland. Frank watched Tom’s joyous exchange with his girlfriend. Tom was proudly paying attention to his best friend, and Millie’s cheeks were hurting from the smiles. She was content and felt at ease. She was sure that her heart was filled to the brim with love and comfort.

Yes, being addicted to feelings is difficult. It holds people hostage in the arms of the sole premise of positive emotional experiences. It’s also blinding for the addicts, making the loss of certain feelings hurt more than it should. Addiction feeds off the weak, the confused, and the uncertain. It eats them up alive and strives to receive more and more satisfaction. It allows for the illusion of reality, so that the addicts can project certain feelings onto their consciousness. They live in their bubbles of unruly contentment and often forget to look into their souls and perform a regular check-up.

Millie was an addict.

***

Please let me know what you think!

tagged: @peeterparkr @katieraven @kozybear @sunsetholland @hey-marlie @lauras-collection @cunaeparker @constellationsv @heyhihellowhatsup0

#tom holland #tom holland fanfic #mornings in Sheffield park #misp #tom holland fluff #tom holland x oc #tom holland blurb

39 notes · View notes

planetsano · 4 years

Text

say so.

summary: Bakugou can't roller skate so he sulks while watching his friends have fun without him. That's when he sees a very beautiful girl called (Name) and just can't stop staring at her. Kirishima notices Bakugou’s little crush and .. some cute chaos ensues.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

warning(s): cursing.

“I don't even know why the fuck we're here anyway..” Bakugou grumbled angrily. He was as bitter as ever watching his friends lace up their roller skates hastily. All of them were excited to hit the wooden floor and do some rounds around the rink, all of them except for Bakugou of course.

“Come on, man. It'll be fun.” Kirishima encouraged him with a smile. Bakugou rolled his eyes and dismissed him with a lazy wave of the hand. The truth is, Bakugou didn't know how to skate. He's never tried it in his life and he'd rather break his own leg than to humiliate himself in front of a whole venue of people.

So instead, he sipped on a strawberry milkshake in the 50’s themed diner the place offered as a lounge area. Bakugou had a clear view of the venue. He found the rainbow neon lights and funky patterns to be tacky but he could see the appeal, it did feel very retro. Looking on, Bakugou spotted Mina laughing at Kirishima, who seemed to have fallen flat on his ass. That made Bakugou smirk and shake his ass.

‘Idiot..’ He thought. Bakugou’s eyes scanned the rest of the venue, nothing looked interesting or out of the norm. God he was so fucking bored. That's when he noticed her, time seemed to so down as he watched her glide almost weightlessly on the wooden floor. She seemed so carefree laughing alongside her friends. Her smile was so bright and inviting, Bakugou felt.. warm inside. He didn't like it.

She was the embodiment of beauty and confidence, dressed in an oversized rainbow sweater, high waist jean shorts, and two space buns on her head. She was gorgeous and it made Bakugou’s mouth dry up. The way she carried herself with such elegance but a sense of playfulness intrigued Bakugou. The girls stopped skating and leaned against the barricade to talk to what he was assuming to be another friend of theirs on the other side.

He continued to watch on, causing her friend beside her to notice that he was staring. With a knowing smile she leaned over to the mystery girl whispering something in her ear. The mystery girl looked at her friend with an unsure smile and shook her head, turning to look at Bakugou. He mentally punched himself finally realizing he'd been caught staring, so much so that her friend even pointed it out. Bakugou didn't know what he was expecting when they made eye contact but he definitely didn't anticipate her giving him a sweet smile and a tiny wave. His head snapped back to his milkshake in front of him a little too fast.

“Real fucking smooth, Katsuki..” He mentally cursed at himself and toyed with the colorful straw in his shake in hopes to try to play it off. His eyes peaked back over to the girls, his curiosity getting the best of him. He saw her friend playfully nudging her with a smile. He couldn't hear exactly what she said but it was something along the lines of ‘Go talk to him, he's cute.’

“Bakubro!” Kirishima’s voice snapped Bakugou back to reality. He looked to see the redhead plop in the seat on the other side of the table.

“What?” Bakugou grumbled in irritation.

“Are you done sulking? Come and have fun with us.” Kirishima tried to convince him with an eager smile. Bakugou did feel kind of bad for not hanging out with his friends, but he just didn't have the heart to admit he'd bust his ass if he put some skates on.

“I'm not fucking sulking! I just-!” Bakugou immediately shut his mouth when he saw her roll right by him and into the diner area with her friends. They all went right to the counter to order something. Everything Kirishima was rambling about was fading into the background while Bakugou’s stare was fixed on one person. She was leaned against the counter backward, elbows resting on the countertop with her legs on full display.

Kirishima realized Bakugou wasn't listening and had a confused look on his face until his eyes followed Bakugou’s gaze. The redhead gave a knowing smile as his eyes finally landed on what, or should we say who, he was looking at. Bakugou returned his attention back to Kirishima feeling anger and embarrassment that he had been found out.

“Why the fuck are you smiling like that?” He said harshly, but Kirishima wasn't fazed. He was used to this brash personality and slick mouth.

“She's really pretty. Even Mina was gushing about her when she walked in.” Kirishima smiled again.

“The fuck are you on about..” Bakugou trailed off, averting his eyes to nothing in particular.

“I'm just saying you should talk to her if you're interested before someone else does.” Kirishima said. Bakugou didn’t want to admit it but he was right.

“You know what? I'll go break the ice!” Kirishima said cheerfully and stood up but before Bakugou could interfere, he was already making his way to the group of friends.

'I'm going to kill him..’ Bakugou thought.

Bakugou watched his friend chat with the girls. He said something that successfully made them all laugh then a few seconds later he pointed to Bakugou. All their attention on him momentarily until they all smiled and nodded. He watched as the girls and the redhead made their way over to his table.

So there Bakugou was, wondering why and how he got himself into this position. These damned rollerskates on his feet and contemplating whether he should whoop Kirishima’s ass now or later for even getting him in this situation. On the bright side, he learned that the girl's name was (Name) from the introductions a few minutes ago at the diner.

“Hey, you coming?” (Name) looked back and smiled at the blonde. Her smile faded away slowly as she saw just how.. uncomfortable he looked staring at the threshold of the tacky carpeted floor and the wooden floor of the rink. That's when it dawned on her that he probably didn't know how to skate.

‘Poor thing is probably too embarrassed to admit it.’ (Name) thought. He did come across as an alpha male. Something as seemingly silly as rollerblading making him feel this stressed probably hurt his pride and ego, but men will be men. She did find it cute though, he was so brooding but looked so lost right now.

“Hold onto my hands.” (Name) said as she held her hands out in front of her. Bakugou snapped his head up giving her an incredulous look.

“What?!”

“Trust me, you'll be fine.” She gave him a reassuring smile and he reluctantly took her hands into his. Name pulled him past the threshold gently and before Bakugou knew it, she was guiding him on through the rink. Bakugou looked like a newborn deer trying to walk for the first time and (Name) felt bad, but she couldn't help but to giggle at him trying to find his footing all while trying to scold her for laughing at him.

“Its not fucking funny-!” He nearly slipped but caught himself. “Why is this shit so slippery?!” Bakugou’s hands never left hers, if anything he held onto her like she was his lifeline.

“Maybe if you straighten your legs and stop trying to impersonate Bambi, you'd be fine!” (Name) said with an innocent smile. Bakugou was pleasantly surprised at the fact this girl had a sense of humor and somewhat of a slick mouth. It only made him even more attracted to her.

“You're real fucking comedian.” Bakugou said, sarcasm oozing out of his voice immensely. Ugh, if he was struggling to keep his balance, he'd totally kiss her. His sarcasm made (Name) crack up even more. Bakugou actually took her advice and in no time he had been standing up straight gliding along the floor with her.

“Look! You're doing it!” She cheered with a bright and goofy smile on his face. Now that Bakugou found his balance, he was finally processing the fact that they had been holding hands this entire time now that he wasn't struggling to fall on his ass. He felt his stomach do flips and turns seeing her smile at him like that. He found it.. cute that she was so excited about him doing something so simple as standing up straight.

As the time passed the more the two got to know each other. Bakugou was kind of surprised that she made him laugh at her jokes. Her quick witted tongue and sense of humor made it all the more enjoyable. He even found himself skating without her as his training wheels. Still though, he wasn't as nearly as good as her. Watching her up close and personal while she did her thing was mesmerizing. And for a while.. Bakugou was actually having fun.

But all good things have to come to an end. The DJ announced the final song of the night and directed those who rented skates to return them and soon the crowd started to clear out, exiting the building in groups.

“How was it?” Kirishima asked the blonde sitting beside him on a bench outside. They watched as people entered their car, waiting for Mina who was in the bathroom and also their ride because this whole outing was her idea.

“I forgot to get her damn number.” Bakugou grumbled.

“What the heck? How?” Kirishima felt bad for his friend because he really did seem to like this girl. This was the first time in a whole he's seen him take genuine interest in someone besides the typical two week girlfriend because the sex was decent streak Bakugou was known to have.

“I lost her in the crowd.. she probably already fucking left with my luck.” Bakugou stood up.

“I'm going to the car.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked to where the car was. Or at least thought, where he car was. He fell asleep on the way there.

‘Where the fuck-’ Bakugou’s thoughts were cut off by a hug from behind. He was fully ready to curse this person out until he heard the voice and almost immediately knew who it was.

“Hey, Bambi! I lost you!”

He turned to see (Name) resting her head on his shoulder. Bakugou felt an overwhelming sense of happiness upon seeing her. He wanted to pick her up and kiss her right then and now.

“Stop calling me by that weak ass nickname.” Bakugou’s voice was cool and collected but on the inside he was kind of freaking out.

“It's so funny though.” (Name) released him from the hug and stood in front of him. She was even more beautiful under the moon’s luminary light.

“Damn, you're kind of a short ass now that I'm looking at you.” Bakugou teased with a smirk. She gasped and playfully pushed him.

“You’re so stupid.” (Name) laughed.

“(Name)! Stop flirting and come on!” A distant voice yelled out grabbing both of their attention. Over in the parking lot they saw her friends from earlier piled in a car flashing their headlights at them.

“Kiss him and keep it moving. Girl, my feet hurt!”

“He's fine as fuck! Get his number!”

“Does he have friends?!”

They all continued to tease their friend who so obviously had a crush on the guy standing in front of her.

“Oh my god..” (Name) hid her face in her hands in embarrassment. Bakugou actually thought it was pretty hilarious. But he had an idea.

“Don't be embarrassed, dummy.” He said closing the gap in between them, she looked up at him confused. “Let's give the audience a show.” Bakugou gently placed a hand on her dainty face and planted a kiss onto her lips. As their lips moved in sync they couldn't help but to smile into the kiss hearing her friends, along with Kirishima and Mina hyping them up in the parking lot.

They pulled away and (Name) got shy again, hiding her face into his chest. Bakugou felt triumphant, maybe tonight wasn't so bad.

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou imagines #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia imagines #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakusquad #bakugou katsuki imagine

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themurphyzone · 3 years

Text

PatB Oneshot: Crystal Clear

AN: Part of an art trade with @plutonis in honor of her upcoming wedding. She tasked me with writing an introspective piece for a Brinky wedding. The art piece I requested is for the next chapter of Nova, so you’ll see the finished product there.

Prompt given by Pluto: I was wondering if you could do a little fic in which Brain is walking down the aisle on his wedding day, and we hear the thoughts going on in his head. What is he thinking? How is he feeling?

AO3 Link

If Brain had his way, he would’ve taped himself to the table leg with extra strong industrial strength duct tape and remained there for the rest of his life.

But Romy wouldn’t let him attach himself to said table leg, and Wakko already ate the duct tape to prevent him from getting it. All other binding materials, including the shoe strings and gluesticks, had been placed on a shelf mockingly out of his reach.

And since he was already in his wedding dress, he couldn’t even climb the shelf to retrieve the necessary materials.

“Dad, you’re killing the glarb,” Romy complained as he pried Brain from the table leg.

“Unhand me at once or so help me, Roman Numeral One!” Brain shouted, trying to break free from Romy’s grip, but it seemed their son had inherited Pinky’s unusual strength.

Wakko wasn’t any help either. He just watched the spectacle from his perch on the dresser, chomping on a platter of garlic prawns swiped from the catering company. Thankfully, Brain had the foresight to order plenty of garlic prawns for their celebratory dinner.

As soon as Romy’s grip loosened, Brain broke free and reattached himself to the table leg.

Funny, how he wanted this for so long. Yearned for it. And when the time came, even after all the progress he’d made, he was still afraid for reasons he didn’t understand.

It was illogical, he knew. He trusted Pinky more than anyone else, even himself.

But even that wasn’t enough to get him moving again.

“Guess someone’s gotta tell Ma you’re not coming,” Romy sighed.

Brain’s fingers dug into the wooden grooves.

“He’s definitely gonna cry. Probably gonna curl up on the couch and watch daytime soap operas with buckets of triple fudge ice cream or something,” Romy continued.

Sweet, innocent Pinky being heartbroken at his own wedding. Running off and doing who-knows-what, because he could be very unpredictable when he was truly distraught. His simple mind eroding away because of the unhealthy combination of trashy soap operas and ice cream diet.

Brain’s heart clenched uncomfortably at that mental image. With great reluctance, Brain let go of the table leg and marched over to the mirror to smooth out the wrinkles in his wedding dress to keep his hands occupied as he quelled that troublesome idea.

“You’re gonna tell him that Brain’s in here, right?” Wakko asked.

“Sure,” Romy replied.

Wait...everyone knew of his intentions to see this wedding through to the end. And he'd never let the hard work and efforts of their wedding plans go to waste.

It was just a ploy.

Brain took a deep breath. To lose his temper before the ceremony would surely spell catastrophe. He wanted to keep this an emotionally satisfying occasion, for Pinky’s sake.

“Romy, I won’t deny that your tactic was effective. But you will refrain from using my fondness for Pinky against me in the future,” Brain said.

Perhaps Roman Numeral One took after him more than he thought. It was impressive and aggravating at the same time.

"Sorry, Dad." Romy's head dropped as he handed the bouquet to Brain.

Like with Pinky, Brain just didn't have it in him to remain angry once an apology was issued. He transferred the bouquet to one hand and lifted Romy's chin from its downcast position.

"Look alive, Romy. This is a celebration," Brain ordered as he turned back to the mirror. "And Wakko, you're not touching our wedding rings with prawn-stained hands."

Wakko pulled out a kitchen sink from his hammerspace and started washing his hands without removing his gloves. With the soft hum of Happy Birthday in the background, Brain turned back to the mirror and examined himself one more time. They didn’t have long before the ceremony began.

His dress towed the line between simple and extravagant. Ruffles in the right places, but not so many that it would hinder movement. A small hole had been cut to fit his tail, carefully sized so that it was easy to thread the stiff appendage through. His sleeves cut off at the elbow, white fabric giving way to a delicate flower pattern, lending an elegant and dignified quality to the outfit.

It hadn’t been easy obtaining this dress. He’d lost track of how many toy aisles Pinky had dragged him down, and he didn’t want his outfit to come from the toy section of Walmart. Pinky had eventually called Dot for help, and with her connections, she arranged for a fashion designer who specialized in making clothes for dolls to help them out.

And while they eventually put the issue of clothes behind them, they had a fair number of arguments when Brain found a reason to reject all the dresses Pinky suggested. Especially with that gaudy puffed sleeve dress Pinky loved but Brain hated.

“I realize we must’ve been insufferable for the past few months,” Brain said. Planning for a wedding wasn’t anything like planning for world domination, as he learned the hard way. But it was Pinky’s wedding as much as it was his, and after one vehement disagreement, Brain had realized he was pushing out Pinky’s contributions to impose his own.

It wasn’t easy, but he did try to turn over some aspects to Pinky, just to see how he did with them. And Brain didn’t regret that choice, because the results were absolutely wonderful.

“Yeah, you and Ma were ruining my vibes,” Romy gave a lazy smile as Brain nudged him in retaliation.

Romy had said something similar when he’d first run away from home, but mischief had long replaced the anger. Though Brain still didn’t think ventriloquism was a lucrative career, he’d made his peace with Romy’s lifestyle while repairing their relationship. And Romy wasn’t the only one who derived happiness from working with dummies.

“Regardless, we’re grateful that you came,” Brain said.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Romy shrugged. “Better save your sap for the ceremony though.”

“I’m not being sappy,” Brain muttered out of principle rather than true irritation.

It was 2:55 pm. Five minutes until the ceremony began. He was running out of time.

He quickly fixed his leaf crown and attached veil so that it was less crooked. In years past, he never would’ve been satisfied until a golden crown with embedded jewels rested atop his head. But now he found the leaf crown was worth so much more than gold.

Then he made sure the transparent veil covered his face. The thin fabric didn’t hinder his vision, but he felt like he was looking through a lens.

Everyone would be watching him. He wanted that thin wall of privacy between himself and the onlookers. Seeing outside, but concealing his feelings within.

He didn’t have to. He knew he didn’t. But old habits die hard, it seemed.

The clock chimed three. It was time.

What could go wrong?

“Don’t worry!” Wakko exclaimed as he picked up the purple velvet cushion with their wedding rings. “I didn’t mistake these for tiny Ring Pops this time!”

Brain was a fool. A sentimental, lovestruck, starcrossed, and twitterpated fool.

Wakko brought up the lead as they marched through the twisting hallways of the enormous property they’d rented for their Hawaiian wedding. Surprisingly, coming up with a location for their wedding hadn’t been difficult. After a stressful day of making other arrangements, they’d chosen a scenic, relaxing travel documentary to unwind.

As soon as the documentary showed a beautiful Hawaiian beach at sunset, they both agreed on making Hawaii the destination of choice for both wedding and honeymoon. Brain gripped the flower bouquet tightly, careful not to crush the petals between his fingers. Romy’s hand was on his elbow, light enough to not be intrusive but quick to react so Brain didn’t run into a wall.

He’d assigned Pinky to the task of flower selection, and Pinky had researched the meaning of flowers extensively with an unusual amount of focus. If Pinky had his way, he would’ve gathered one specimen of every flower in the world and brought them to the wedding, though Brain eventually convinced him to narrow his list down to a single digit range.

Brain was only familiar with the rose as a symbol of love, and he recalled the meaning of only two other flowers within their wedding. The rest were completely lost on him. The first was the magnolia, which represented perseverance. As such, a white magnolia stood proudly in his bouquet, nestled among the red roses of passionate love. Pinky had chosen the magnolia for Brain, and insisted Brain choose at least one flower too.

Though Brain didn’t place much stock in what the websites claimed, he just went along with it to humor Pinky. But he’d settled on the colorful freesia, just to thank Pinky for his friendship, faith, and trust for all the years they’d known each other.

Their miniature procession stopped at a glass sliding door that separated them from the rest of the proceedings.

Brain gulped and clutched the bouquet to his chest.

Beyond those doors, the wedding guests mingled with each other on the grass. A gorgeous, azure beach formed the perfect backdrop to the ceremony. White, fluffy clouds dotted the sunny skies, and the beauty was rather foreign to him. He’d spent far too much of his life hiding away in the darkness of a sterile lab.

It seemed the entirety of their Animaniacs coworkers had shown up for the wedding. He was surprised by the turnout, but it seemed that everyone had been clamoring for him and Pinky to tie the knot for years.

And while the usual toon antics were prevalent among the guests, Brain’s attention was drawn to the very front, where Pinky was arranging flowers on Pharfignewton, who’d jumped at the offer of being Pinky’s best mare.

Back then, the sight would’ve incited a feeling he’d come to realize was jealousy. Now he was just grateful that Pinky received some physical affection from someone when Brain couldn’t give it to him.

Wakko opened the screen door, causing a stir among the guests in the back, which caused a ripple effect that spread to the front and prompted everyone to take their seats. Pinky slid off Pharfignewton’s back, bouncing on his toes and craning his neck to see Brain.

Even from this far away, Brain saw Pinky’s bright, goofy smile. It made him regret keeping the veil over his face, cloaking his happiness even from his partner.

“Testing, testing!” Yakko said into the microphone. When he’d been ordained to officiate a wedding, nobody knew for sure. He shuffled through the cards for his opening speech. “Alright, everyone. We’ve all been very impatient for this moment, so no more delays, capiche? Dot, start the music!”

A hush fell across the audience, and even the most rambunctious members of the Animaniacs crew fell silent as a soft piano arrangement of A Whole New World began to play.

Wakko proudly held the cushion with the wedding rings over his head and marched to the front. From the aisle, Mindy reached into her basket and threw pink flower petals into the air, and Buttons held onto her so she didn’t fall out of her seat.

Romy released Brain and followed Wakko. Pinky greeted their son with an enthusiastic hug, and Bunny flashed them a thumbs-up from her seat.

All the attention was on Brain now.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted it.

He wanted to flee inside the house. Tell everyone to go home and they’ll get refunded the costs at a later date. Take Pinky to city hall and sign a document to make their marriage official instead.

The audience whispered.

He saw the worry in Pinky’s eyes, a stunning shade of blue that popped out from the beautiful Hawaiian beach. They were too far from each other to speak normally, but Pinky laid his hand on top of the colorful freesia pinned to his white dress shirt, just over his heart.

Trust me, he was saying.

And Pinky had proven himself worthy of his trust long ago.

Slowly, Brain laid his hand on the magnolia, the centerpiece of his bouquet.

I won’t give up.

Pinky smiled that soft, knowing smile of his. Emboldened by his encouragement, Brain stepped out of the house and onto the white, silky path that had been laid out for him.

He took slow, methodical steps to steel his nerves. This was his reward, and he was allowed to have it.

No more electricity, no more fear of rejection.

The happiness of having someone by his side. The sorrow when they were separated either by force or by choice. The surprise of receiving gifts from Pinky when he’d done nothing to deserve them. The guilt that came from upsetting Pinky with morally questionable schemes.

Emotions he’d once derided as frivolous were now precious and dear to him.

All the good, all the bad, and everything in between. And this occasion marked a brand new beginning, a new chapter of their lives that would bring new happiness and surprises. Though they’d be sad, angry, or terrified sometimes, they’d always be together.

That’s what counted most.

The melody of A Whole New World floated gently through the air. An airy tune filled with wonder at a world previously unknown to them.

He and Pinky dueted this song so many times that the lyrics and background instrumentals were permanently etched into his mind.

Only now did he understand what the song was truly about. Leaving behind their defined roles, into a freedom-filled sky. Just the two of them, exploring a huge world together. The burdens of the past and worries of the future left on the ground, and all that mattered was the present.

Being themselves, and experiencing things they’ve never experienced before.

It was terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

He could hardly wait.

Pinky waited for him, taking Brain’s hand in his own. He was absolutely breathtaking up close.

“Narf,” Pinky whispered, and Brain would never tire of that endearingly stupid word. “You did it, Brain.”

“All thanks to you, Pinky,” Brain replied, and Pinky’s tail wagged at the praise.

Together, they walked to that beautiful wedding arch with intertwining pink and blue flowers, stopping in front of Yakko’s podium. Brain gave his bouquet to Romy so he could properly hold Pinky’s hands. Romy gave them a lazy grin, and Pharfignewton lowered her head so Romy could have a good perch. Wakko proudly balanced the cushion on his head, and Dot stood beside her brother, giving him a friendly shove without knocking the wedding rings off.

And Brain realized he was still seeing the world through veiled eyes. Though his vision was unimpeded, he’d barely noticed there was a filter among all his doubts and fears.

He’d kept the veil for a transparent amount of privacy when he walked down the aisle, but now that he was with Pinky…

Well, it just wasn’t necessary anymore.

He brought Pinky’s hands to the veil. Their eyes met, and a silent understanding passed between them.

Then Pinky threw back the veil, and the filter he’d been looking through was completely gone. And Brain saw the...no, he saw his world through fresh eyes.

A bright, happy, silly mouse stood before him, a colorful burst of freesia on his chest, and beautiful sky-blue eyes filled with endless love, promising hope and warmth and companionship forever more.

“You’re so pretty, Brain,” Pinky giggled.

It was the most wonderful sound for his compass, his heart, and his world.

No more tolerating. He fully accepted the undeniable fact of how much he loved Pinky, and Pinky loving him back from this point forward.

Never before had he felt so much happiness, and he was ready for everyone to see it.

Unable to contain himself, Brain leapt into Pinky’s arms and kissed him. Though he heard their audience reacting with shock, it was all just background noise to him. And he’d never been a patient mouse.

Pinky was surprised at first, but his strong arms wrapped around Brain to support him, and he kissed back wonderfully.

Fireworks exploded in Brain’s mind, or maybe the Warners set some off, he didn’t know. But he had to come up for air, and he released the kiss, though it seemed Pinky could keep going for quite some time.

“Technically, you’re supposed to wait until I say ‘you may now kiss the Brain’, but who am I to stop true love?” Yakko grinned.

“Sorry,” the mice chorused, though neither of them regretted the little break in protocol.

The audience burst into cheers, and Yakko led them in a standing ovation for a good five minutes before they all settled down enough for him to start his opening speech.

“Love you, Brain,” Pinky whispered as he put Brain down and took his hands again.

“Love you too, Pinky,” Brain replied, and he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face.

Everything was laid out before them, clear as crystal and bright as day.

End AN: This is cheesy but I don’t care I love it and they’re married now.

The Hawaiian setting is not a reference to the PatB fic Trouble in Paradise, it’s just that the last wedding I went to was in Hawaii and it was so romantic.

3rd time I’ve referenced A Whole New World in these fics. This song is just too perfect for them.

#pinky and the brain #brinky #patb fanfiction #cheesy in a good fluffy way

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calboniferous · 3 years

Text

In Theory

Work 1 in The Pen and the Sword aka. my jedi and academics AU

A stressed post-graduate anthropology researcher from Coruscant University enters the Jedi Archives for the first time and is promptly taken under the wing of one Master Archivist Jocasta Nu.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32355310

—

Master Jocasta Nu felt the visitor before she saw them. Stress and a frenetic energy radiated through the force tangled with the unique threads of emotion and colour that made up their signature.

Closing the book in front of her with a soft thud, mindful of its frayed edges, she appraised the blue nautolan hurrying towards her. Their worn brown coat was unbuttoned and struggling to stay onto their shoulders, saved by the strap of the bag hanging off one side which the nautolan had one arm wrapped around. Apparently, the bag’s tie had lost the battle against the tide of flimsy and datapads making the simple bag bulge obscenely.

Ah.

A scholar.

Like the many before them, they had come to Master Nu’s beloved archives in hope of finding salvation in its hallowed stacks. With her guidance, they always did and more often than not, they would return again. And again.

However, this scholar was not one that Master Nu had seen before and as they glanced wide-eyed at the towering shelves, shying away from passing Jedi, she surmised that the Jedi archives were unfamiliar to them also.

They reached her desk out of breath.

“I need books on Kante martial arts and history. Do you have books on Kante? If it has historical martial arts then that would be incredible but I’m setting the bar low. Really, the bar is non-existent. Should I even be setting a bar I don’t know- do you know what the Kante are? Were? They’re extinct”

“Young one, breathe.” Master Nu said, lifting her hand to interrupt the rush of words. Her brow softened in sympathy, “How about you start from the beginning and tell me what your thesis is and then we’ll go about finding resources.”

She signalled to one of the Padawans stacking holopads nearby for them to take over monitoring the main desk and led Tema to one of the many sunlit alcoves tucked between the buttresses.

Settling on a cushion across the low table from the sleep deprived nautolan, Master Nu pulled out her well-worn datapad, ready to formulate a list of texts to recommend for this student’s project. She had gathered quite the collection of such lists over the years and took great pride in curating them. Often, she would continue to add to them in her spare time so that when the person they had been made for returned, it was waiting and ready. And, if Master Nu happened to enjoy the thrill of a hunt for obscure references through her own archives every now and again, that was her own business.

Stylus in hand, she was ready to begin.

“You mentioned martial arts?”

“Right. Yes. I’m studying the fighting style of the Kante people which they used to reclaim their lands 7000 years ago after it was conquered in the Chandrillan Divide. The politics of the reclamation itself have been documented to death but there’s kriff all discussing how they actually fought,”

Master Nu hummed sympathetically, listening as a classic university post-graduate research tragedy poured out in all its glory. The purple shadows smeared under Tema’s dark eyes suggested that more than one night had been lost to this.

It was a credit to her Jedi training and skill as an archivist that Master Nu could write notes, elegant script flitting smoothly across the datapad without misspelling a single title or name, while offering comforting hums and interjecting words of encouragement where Tema faltered.

“So now I need to piece it together myself in order to build a theory on how the Kante people approached battlefield strategy,” Tema finished, fidgeting with their bag strap.

Setting her stylus down, Master Nu surveyed the drafted list with a critical eye. It was a daunting selection. She weighed the situation in her mind and carefully turned the datapad off, placing it down with a muted click of metal on the polished stone table.

“That’s quite the task you’ve got” Master Nu said, “more than an Honours project scope covers.”

She loathed to discourage any scholar but there were limits to the workload that could be shouldered and she had a strict honesty policy. With all her Jedi compassion and experience ad Head Archivist, Master Nu knew how to recognise when a student needed guidance in whittling down their research focus to a reasonable magnitude.

“I know,” Tema sighed, shoulders sagging, “I know but my project topic has already been approved by my supervisor.”

“Dear, your project as it stands is enough to satisfy a PhD and beyond. I can tell you are passionate about it but it’d be a tragedy for you to fail because you tried to complete years’ worth of work in the 10 months you have.”

The blue nautolan wilted a little, head tails curling.

“I don’t see what choice I have. I can’t form a thesis on the merits of Kante strategy without knowing how it worked at the individual level,” they said, resignation colouring their force signature grey with worry.

Master Nu paused, and after a moment spoke.

“Have you considered centring your project on the martial arts itself? At the individual level, as you say. Leaving the rest aside to focus on that should technically be within your project topic.”

Tema blinked, “That’s…that would work. Yes.”

Master Nu watched as they turned the idea over, considering how to approach it.

“Yes. That would make it more of a research-and-reconstruction project. A literature review with practical application.”

They gave a wry smile, “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before.”

Some of the frazzled emotion of their presence eased and a few threads of humour sparked in its wake.

“I could have saved myself from being sick from worry in the University ‘freshers yesterday.”

They flushed a little darker at that admission and Master Nu suppressed what would have been a rather unprofessional snort of amusement as she clicked the datapad back on. Ah, younglings. They never changed.

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, dear. That amount of stress isn’t conducive to clarity of mind, I’d wager,” Master Nu soothed, deleting a few items from the list with a satisfied air, “You’re hardly the first person’s I’ve known to have an adverse reaction to academic stress. Now, I do believe this list is ready.”

Rising with more grace than her age suggested she was capable of, she smoothed the creases in her cream and straw-gold robes and led the way into the maze of columns and shelves. Tema followed a step behind in a manner that to any observers bore remarkable resemblance to a duckling following its mother – if ducklings were six-and-a-half feet tall, that is.

“Somehow I find it hard to imagine a Jedi getting sick from assignments,” they mused absentmindedly, tipping their head to catch some of the book titles they passed, “all this information – it’d be hard to fail.”

Master Nu chuckled at that, passing through an archway into a side corridor.

“I’m afraid it can happen to anyone. One of my agemates routinely emptied his stomach at the prospect of examinations – that one, in fact,” she said, gesturing to one of the bronze busts lining the hall. The metallic features gave the human man depicted a severe expression. In Master Nu’s opinion, it was rather true to life even if the beard was far to neatly sculpted.

“The poor man. Perfection was as much his vice as his virtue.”

She smiled fondly, crows’ feet crinkling with nostalgia at sharing this particular story – at sharing the humanity of someone so proud and distant both in life and artistic rendition.

Tema faltered and the markings on their head tails blanched light blue.

“Oh, uh, my condolences.”

“Hmm?” Master Nu turned to them, “Oh no, he’s not dead. He’s retired.”

“Oh,”

They blinked, nonplussed.

“This way, dear”

The pair continued on their winding path. Master Nu, frequently gesturing to some architectural feature or other with her datapad, began to explain how the Jedi Archival system worked, pausing every now and then to pull a tome from the shelves.

“It is what many have described as ‘archaic’,” she said, stepping deftly onto the fourth rung of a sliding ladder attached to one of the shelves to reach her next target, “but no one—and I mean no one—has said it is an ineffective system.

“At least not in my earshot,” she said with a laugh, pulling the volume from its place and passing it down to Tema. The rumours the initiates (and fully-grown Knights) liked to spread about Master Nu’s draconian defence of the archives may not be entirely accurate but were taken by most as a warning to avoid slandering the archive in her presence. She knew Tholme liked to stir the pot and recount tales of her lightsabre prowess to the initiates, no matter that the stories were thirty years out-of-date.

“That being said, it can take some getting used to. The Padawans and Knight Archivists are always around and willing to retrieve sources for our visitors.”

Master Nu dismounted from the ladder, blew dust from her sleeve, and turned a critical eye on to the stack of books and datapads in Tema’s arms that had been steadily growing in size. The scholar looked strong enough to take a couple more, taking into account that their bulging bag would not fit anything more inside.

“That’s the last one from this aisle.”

She clicked her tongue and marked a check on her list next to the sources they were borrowing. They were all copies, of course, or volumes easily enough to source a replacement that their loss wouldn’t be abhorrent. Nonetheless, clean records made maintaining the collection less stressful on her soul.

On that note, Master Nu was pleased to feel that Tema was no longer pouring stress into the force like an anxious firehose. And—

She stilled, tilting her head as a familiar presence tickled the edges of her senses.

“Master Nu?” Tema asked, noticing her change in manner.

“Nothing to worry about,”

She once again took the lead. Down the aisle, then one aisle to the left and as they rounded the corner Master Nu smiled at the sight before her.

A little blue and beige figure was hunched over a book resting on the floor, absentmindedly gnawing on her Padawan silka beads and completely oblivious to the world around her.

“Padawan Secura! Why am I not surprised?” Master Nu called lightly and the twi’lek girl jerked, breaking from her literature-induced reverie to scramble to her feet.

“I’m not skipping sabre class again. I swear!”

Had it been any other Padawan of Aayla’s age group, Master Nu would think that emphatic declaration of innocence meant the Padawan in question was skipping class. Skywalker came to mind as a repeat offender of that variety.

Only question was that Junior Padawan sabre classes were always on Taungsday afternoons—this afternoon—and had been since before Master Nu was a crecheling. She hummed, unconvinced.

“Knight Kenobi is doing catch-up lessons this week and he said my forms were good enough to skip.”

That explained it. It seemed only yesterday that he’d been roaming the archives as a padawan himself, tearing through histories of the planets he’d visited at Qui-Gon’s side with single-minded focus. Shame that his lineage had picked him up before her own could. He would have made a fantastic archivist despite his record of being convinced to scale the bookshelves whenever Vos got temple fever.

Well, at least Aayla’s fencing education was in good hands.

Master Nu beamed at Aayla, “Then good work padawan and, as you are free, would you like to join us in gathering sources for Scholar Induri here?”

Aayla brightened, “Absolutely!”

And then, remembering her diplomacy training, bowed to Tema, setting her Padawan beads swinging. “Nice you meet you, Scholar.”

She scooped up the book she had been reading and as she put it back in its slot, Master Nu glimpsed the title.

“Reading Bastilla Shan again are we Padawan?”

The padawan blushed, fiddled with her tunic and handily dodged the teasing with a question of her own, “What are we looking for, Master?”

“See for yourself, young one,” Master Nu passed over the datapad, pointing to the highlighted entries.

Aayla squinted at the handwriting for a second before passing the pad back and running away down the aisle, one hand skimming the shelf labels. Padawans were lovely to have around and, watching Aayla slide 4 meters down a ladder and return to them with a grin plastered across her face, Master Nu wondered if she should take another student. Or, better yet, invite her former Padawans around for tea to see if more Grandpadawans would be joining the lineage soon.

“Thank you, dear,” she gave Aayla a pat on the head, “I’ll leave you to your reading. Just don’t forget to remind your Master that he needs to renew the materials he borrowed last month.”

Then, she turned to Tema who hadn’t made so much as a peep the past five minutes, seemingly satisfied to observe the interaction.

“Let’s get these checked out so you can get to reading them.”

Back to the main desk, the archivist and scholar wandered, and a minute later there was a new name entered into the borrowing database.

“Again, thank you for everything, Master Nu” Tema said, gathering the stack back into their arms. They were a little overwhelmed but they were smiling.

“Dear, it’s no trouble. One last thing, are you planning on enlisting someone practised in martial forms in your project? Or were you aiming for a more theoretical illustration of your findings?”

Tema cast their eyes to one side and shifted their weight.

“Ideally, yes, but I have no idea where to find someone like that so…theoretical?”

They trailed off.

“Good. I’m free to ask around here, then,” Master Nu said, tugging Tema’s bag strap so it was in less immediate danger of falling of their shoulder.

“If you need any help at all, don’t hesitate to send me a message or drop by. My archive is always open,”

At that, she tucked a slip of flimsy with her com code underneath the top datapad in the stack and gave Tema a parting pat on the cheek. With hope in their step, the scholar passed back out the archive doors, into the sunlight of the hall beyond.

Content, Master Nu smiled and watched them go.

“Now,” she mused to herself, opening the roster of temple-bound jedi and beginning to peruse the list, “who to ask…”

Her thoughts turned to the bronze bust of a man whose devotion to esoteric research was only outmatched by his skill with a blade.

His legacy…

Her eyes caught on a name. Yes, that would do very nicely indeed.

In the interest of vetting the source she intended to recommend, Master Nu made a mental note to attend next week’s exhibition tournament.

#jedi #jedi culture #fic #my writing #jedi and academics #the pen and the sword #jocasta nu #repost #star wars

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tears-and-lilies · 3 years

Text

Indictus, cap. I

Milo is so much baby D:

(tablinum = master’s office; impluvium = low water basin for rain water in the atrium; atrium = kind of the central room where the master of the house meets guests and stuff; tablinum and atrium are next to each other and in this case separated by a curtain) --> I’ll put some explanations between brackets at the start of every chapter where necessary, but I try to explain it in the chapter too without breaking the POV so it should be fine without

Tag: @lockedupuniverse @unicornscotty @milk-carton-whump @abitefullofwhump @sideblogformindtrash @whump-it

CW: slavery, broken whumpee, low self-esteem, self-loathing, perfectionism, cruel whumper, humiliation (lightly), slapping, kicking, pushed into small basin of water, forced to stand in cold, noncon touching (non sexual)

***

Milo was working on lighting the oil lamps and candles in the house, when he was summoned to the tablinum. He swallowed before he pulled aside the curtain to enter the office. He knew he had done something wrong. He always messed up. Too ashamed to look up at the strict face of master Corvinus, he shuffled to his side.

The man was sitting at his desk, tapping his stylus on the wood. He was impatient.

‘Do you know why I summoned you?’, his master said. His voice was low and intimidating.

Milo shook his head.

‘Use your tongue.’

‘Sorry, master. I don’t know, master’, he whispered hastily. Inadequate, he was laughable. How could he forget what mistakes he made? How could he disappoint his master like this?

Master stood up, slamming the stylus down onto the table. He grabbed a piece of paper from the desk and smoothed it out with a rough movement. He held the paper in front of Milo’s nose, barely a finger width away from his face. He pointed at something.

Milo’s breath caught. There it was. A spelling error. So small, yet so stupid.

‘Do you get it now? When I asked you to write down this letter, I trusted you to handle it with the upmost carefulness. Do you understand?’

He could barely manage to squeak: ‘Yes master.’

A slap to his face.

‘Then why do I read this mistake?’

‘I’m- I’m so-’

A kick to his leg. He cried out in pain and immediately clasped his mouth.

‘Dumb slave! This letter is meant for Scaevinus! Do you understand how important this is?! Do you think that, because he’s my friend, you can afford to make mistakes?!’

He grabbed Milo’s wrist and pulled him along. Milo whimpered from the stinging pain in his leg every time he put it down hard. And master was still yelling at him while dragging him to the atrium.

‘Do you know how important it is that he considers me a friend?! Of course you don’t! What does a useless servant like you know about this!’

He was so sorry. Sorry to be useless, sorry to make mistakes. He wanted to tell his master, but tears and a lump in his throat made it difficult to speak.

‘Scaevinus is held in favour by Caesar himself’, master hissed. ‘Therefore, I can’t afford my pitiful slave to make mistakes. Got it?’

‘Y-yes master.’

‘Good.’

His master pulled harder and pushed his disappointing slave from the side of the impluvium, the low water basin where rainwater was assembled. Milo gasped as he fell into the low water. The beautiful tunica his master had spent money on for him… It was all wet and soaking.

Other house slaves stopped their work when they heard the splash. Milo turned red. He knew he was making a fool out of himself, and now was deeply ashamed of his mistake.

‘Tonight, you can stand outside’, master said, his voice back to its normal volume. ‘You can stay outside until you’ve dried.’

Milo’s eyes widened. ‘But- but nights are dangerous-’

Master laughed, and Milo’s entire body was blushing now. At least master was happy…

‘You really are an idiot, Milo. Do you honestly think someone would steal a slave as useless as you?’

‘No, I’m sorry master’, he whispered in reply.

‘I’m sure you are.’

Master walked back towards the tablinum. He halted when he took the curtain, and looked back at his miserable slave.

‘I want that letter rewritten tomorrow morning, before the morning greeting. Without mistakes. Understood?’

He stressed every syllable, as if Milo wouldn’t understand otherwise. The worst thing was that Milo wasn’t even sure if he would. Shyly he nodded.

He’d do anything to make up for his imperfections.

***

Milo was so cold, stumbling inside the house to make his way to his own little room. He had taken the ruined letter with him and now sat at his small desk. He put on a candle, just enough to make out the ink on the paper. On a new sheet of paper he began copying the letter.

Was it normal that it was so cold? He was shivering and he couldn’t seem to stop. He could barely hold his stylus. Before he knew it, he spilled ink onto the paper.

I’ll redo it.

This time, he held the stylus tight and handled it carefully after dipping it in the ink. The words were coming together prettily. Sometimes, master would call his handwriting beautiful. It almost brought tears to his eyes. To think that his work could be worthy of praise…

There he did it again! He messed up! Immediately he grabbed a new sheet of paper and restarted. Don’t think about compliments when you don’t deserve them.

He held the tip of his tongue between his teeth, focusing the most he could to make this letter perfect. Master said it was important. He couldn’t afford to mess it up again. If he kept messing up, he would ruin master’s reputation. What kind of slave embarrasses his master?

Did he just write that word twice? He could kick himself. Another piece of paper it was.

Writing was becoming difficult. His vision was blurry, and the elegant lines he formed the letters with turned into a mess. He started anew. And again. And once again.

Gross sobs erupted from his throat. This was terrible. Why was he so useless? He dropped the stylus and covered his head with his arms, placing it on the desk. He would never be acceptable. Everything he ever did turned out wrong. What could he do now? He couldn’t present himself to his master without a new letter!

He gasped, dried his tears, and started on a new sheet of paper.

#whump #historical whump #broken whumpee #cruel whumper #low self esteem tw #self loathing tw #humiliation tw #slavery tw #my writing #indictus #indictus cap 1 #milo the secretary slave #corvinus the fake corvinus not the real one #hehe these are going to be their tags i decided just now

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kiirokero · 3 years

Text

Emacity (PJM)

Emacity: The desire or fondness of buying

Part of the “Protect the Village!” Oneshot Series!

Masterlist

Pairing: DeliveryBoy!Jimin x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Romance, mutual pining (kinda)

Note: April will be my hibernation month lol

Summary: Whoever invented online shopping? A genius. Whoever hired Park Jimin to be the town’s delivery boy? An even bigger genius.

Word Count: 2.2k

You wouldn’t call yourself a shopaholic. It’s not like you had an addiction to the point of needing an intervention. You knew what was a dumb purchase and what was a personal purchase. You actively searched high and low for coupons and discounts. You never bought something that you knew would end up in the garbage after one use. You were a responsible shopper. But shopping was like a hobby.

You were lucky enough to have the money to spoil yourself. You worked a well-paying job as a translator for businesses that are trying to branch out to new countries while also offering online language classes to international students. Switching between Korean, English, Spanish, AND French usually gave you a headache. And trying to translate a word that didn’t really exist in other languages was exhausting, but it paid well.

And it gave you opportunities to see Jimin.

Park Jimin, Bangtan Village’s delivery boy. Worked at the post office seemingly 24/7 and is always voted employee of the month. Has a smile that’s permanently painted on his face and is as kind as a saint. What’s not to love about him? Besides that fact that his eyes sparkle with the same elegance as polished amber. Or the fact that his skin is perfectly smooth. Or that he emits an aura of confidence and stability.

Not that you know, but you can feel it. You and Jimin exchanged few words on the occasions when you get to see him. Simple, “Hey! How are you?” ’s and “Long time no see!” ‘s. But each word that reaches your ears are pieces of gold to you. You and Jimin didn’t really know each other, but you’d like to say that if you waved to him out in town, he’d wave back.

Your friend, Namjoon, liked to call you a lovesick idiot. Whenever you gushed to him about how Jimin smiled at you, he’d shake his head and say, “You’re a hopeless romantic and it’s tiring to me,” And today was like no other.

“I’m telling you, Namjoon! He has the cutest smile,” You sighed, watching your best friend work on his current project, Yoongi’s car. “I know, you’ve told me several times before,” He groaned, lifting his head from the machinery under the hood and looking at you with an unimpressed look. Absentmindedly wiping off his oily hands on his black stained hand towel.

“Why don’t you just talk to the dude? You know several languages yet you can’t communicate to a boy who speaks your native language?” He pointed out, leaning his hip up against the black car. “I may be able to chew you out in French, but I don’t speak ‘extrovert’” You argued back, a sly smirk on your face.

Namjoon rolled his eyes with a small smile, “You’re impossible,” He chuckled, “But you really should talk to him. You never know~ He may think you’re cute too~” He teased, dodging the spare hand towel you threw at him. “Stop teasing!” You whined, “You know I can’t, I’ll make a fool of myself and end up confessing to him in Spanish or something,” You groaned, slumping in your seat.

Namjoon tilted his head in confusion, “How do you accidentally switch to a whole other language,” He asked. “Trust me... It’s happened before...” You cringed, shivering at the less-than flattering memory. “Well... Maybe you should express it non-verbally?” He suggested, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly as he went back to tampering with Yoongi’s car.

“I appreciate your advice, Joon, but I don’t think I can even work up the courage to confess, verbally or not.” You sighed, giving Namjoon a somber look to which he responded with a comforting smile. Namjoon went back to work and you checked the time on your phone. 2:22pm.

“Shoot, I gotta go,” You said, standing up and grabbing your bag. “Why? I thought you didn’t teach on Wednesdays?” Namjoon asked, still working on the car. “I don’t but, I’m expecting a package,” You smiled to yourself. “You memorized when Jimin comes to deliver your packages? That’s kinda creepy Y/n,” Namjoon insinuated, squinting his eyes at you.

You gasped, “Is not! I’ve just noticed that he always comes around 3pm... and I want to be there when my new keyboard comes.” You crossed your arms in defence. “Mhmm, go on then,” Namjoon chuckled, and you stomped your way out of his workshop back to your house.

You wait anxiously for a knock on your door. You sit on the couch, fiddling with the blanket that was draped over your lap. If you were being honest with yourself, you were more excited about seeing Jimin than getting your new peach-pink keyboard to complete your soft pastel desk setup.

You knew Namjoon was right about you being a lovesick idiot; you were in deep, and you haven’t even hung out with the man! You scoffed to yourself, shaking your head at the way his smile made your heart rate pick up and palms clammy. Maybe you could take Namjoon’s advice and invite him on a date. Not necessarily come completely clean and admit you were head over heels, but ease your way in instead.

Only problem is, you didn’t quite know how to do that...

The long awaited knock finally sounded through your tiny house, and you stood up quicker than you should as blood rushed to your head, making you feel dizzy. Shaking it off, you go over to your door, opening it to reveal the very man you’ve been wanting to see all day. “Hey! What’s up Y/n?” Jimin greeted you with a smile, a small brown package under his arm.

“Hi Jimin, I’m doing good... What about you?” You asked, leaning up against the doorway. “I’m good, it’s a nice day out today,” He sighed, handing the package out for you, “Here you go! Your weekly package,” He joked, making you give him a lovesick smile that made you look like the woozy emoji. “T-Thanks,” You chuckled nervously.

“No problem,” Jimin said. “Hey um Jimin...” You called before he could walk away. “Yes?” Jimin inquired, raising an eyebrow. Shoot, what do you say? You didn’t think this through you.. You can’t just invite him out like a normal human, what if he says no? “I um- What’s your... favorite food...?” You asked, cringing at how pathetically shy you sounded. Jimin’s eyebrows knit together in confusion and he chuckled. “I like strawberry Pocky’s a lot,” He stressed, licking his lips at the thought.

You nodded, writing that down in your head for later. Maybe you could do something with this. “Cool, cool. Well, um, have a nice day!” You said, walking back into your house, package in hand, leaving Jimin confused and amused. “What a girl...” He whispers to himself, smile, like always, never leaving his face.

You continue to buy little things online just as an excuse to talk to Jimin. Who needs a mini cactus? You, apparently. And that chick plush you saw on Instagram? Boom, it now lives on your bed. Whenever he comes around, you take the opportunity to ask him questions like what his favorite color was or if he was allergic to anything.

You were planning something for him, and he was catching on. Sure, your questions were usually unprompted, but he’d humor you any day of the week. He may not know exactly what you were planning, but all he hoped was that it would change his life forever. And it would.

You were almost done with Jimin’s mini basket of favorites. A blue basket that held his favorite snack foods, stickers from his favorite shows, and some of those chunky rings he likes. Sure, maybe it was a bit excessive. Maybe this was teetering the line of weird and sweet, and you knew that bribing your way into a relationship was definitely not the way to go. But you just wanted to be nice.

Maybe buying things for others was your love language, or maybe Jimin was just worth spoiling. It was probably both. Whatever the real answer was, it didn’t matter to you. You just wanted Jimin to be happy.

Even if meticulously fiddling with the basket made you want to pull your hair out as the bow never looked quite right. Realistically you know it wouldn’t matter in the end and that Jimin would likely take the bow off after he received it, but you still adjusted it until it was perfect.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want, Joon,” You sighed as you heard Namjoon hysterically laughing on the other side of the phone. “You’re going to bribe him into going on a date with you?” He asked, out of breath. “No! I just want to be nice,” You bit back, rolling your eyes even if Namjoon couldn’t see you. “Wow, the irony of Jimin delivering the gifts that your going to end up giving back,” Namjoon chuckled, finally calming down.

“Look, I’m just trying to follow your advice,” You whined, finally giving up on the navy blue bow and leaving it be. “True, I was thinking about a banner or something though. Like a cheesy promposal,” Namjoon said, and you could hear the undertones in his words. What he really wanted to say was, “How dramatic could you be? This is too much honey,”

Groaning, you flopped down on your couch, mumbling into the cushions. “I think I’m going to give it to him today, I have another mini cactus coming today,” You said, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness swirl in your stomach at the thought of finally asking the man you’ve been pining over out on a date. “That’s great! He’ll definitely say yes,” Namjoon said excitedly, trying to keep your fragile spirits intact. Knowing that if anything goes wrong, you’ll chicken out immediately.

“Yeah, I can do this,” You smiled, looking at the clock on your oven. “It’s 2:30, I have to go prepare. I’ll call you after!” You said, exchanging your goodbyes with Namjoon and hanging up the phone to go clean yourself up a little bit.

You weren’t terribly worried about your appearance. Jimin had seen you in coffee stained sweats and hoodies. There wasn’t anything worse than that. So you opted for a simple t-shirt and legging combo, washing your face and touching up your hair a bit. “Now to wait,” You whispered to yourself as you sat on the couch with the basket in your lap.

While you waited on the couch for Jimin to arrive, you looked at the mini cactus that sat on your coffee table and chuckled. Usually you bought things that may seem random to an outside person. A mouse that looks like a cat's paw, a throw pillow that doubles as a blanket, random earrings. But never a mini cactus.

After you asked all the questions you could think of and bought everything that you thought Jimin would like, you didn’t have an excuse to keep seeing Jimin. So, like a normal person, you bought little knickknacks. Hence the mini cactus and it’s new friend that’s on the way today.

Knock knock knock

“Well, your new buddy’s here lil’ cactus dude,”

Taking a deep breath, you stood up and walked over to the door, hiding the basket behind your back. “Hello, Y/n,” Jimin smiled as you opened the door for him. “Hey,” You smiled back, tightening your grip on the basket behind you. “Here you go, another odd stationary?” Jimin guessed as he held out the package for you and you took it with one hand, placing it down behind the door.

“I guess you could say that,” You chuckled, nervously shifting on your feet. “Speaking of... I have something for you,” You mumbled, but loud enough for Jimin to hear. “Is it another impromptu question? You haven’t asked one in awhile,” He chuckled, his cute eyes upturning into crescents.

“Close your eyes to find out,” You said.

“Close my eyes? Is this the part where you murder me?” Jimin teased, causing you to playfully roll your eyes.

“No... just close them,” You whined.

“Alright, I’ll close them,” Jimin relented, closing his eyes at your request. Taking another shaky deep breath, you took the basket out from behind your back and held it in front of you. “Open...” You whispered.

Once Jimin opened his eyes, he let out a cute gasp, eyes lighting up at the sign of the gift. “W-What’s this?” He asked, looking up at you with a huge smile on his face. “It’s um, all your favorites. Jimin’s basket of favorites,” You declared, holding the basket out for Jimin to take, which he happily did. “Y/n, this is amazing. What’s the special occasion?” He asked, looking down at the assorted gifts and snacks.

“You’re always making me smile, so I wanted to return the favor,” You shrugged in an attempt to look casual about it. “Really? I make you smile?” Jimin smirked, making your cheeks heat up. “Y-Yeah you do...” You admitted, kicking at the rocks on your porch. “You’re such a sweet girl, Y/n, cute too,” Jimin whispered to you, causing your breath to hitch.

“C-Cute?”

“Yep, you’re a cutie,” Jimin said, booping your nose.

“Would you um... Let this cutie ask you out to lunch?” You asked.

“Most definitely,”

“Park Jimin, do you want to grab lunch sometime?”

“It’s a date, cutie,”

#jimin #park jimin #jimin x reader #bts jimin #bts oneshot #bts #jimin fic

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