#OKAY I ACTUALLY FILMED WHAT I PUT IN MY CART SO I CAN GO BACK TO IT

[theovalentine]

can you write Jake webber reader and Johnny in a Walmart video and some guy comes up and tries to hit on Y/n and jake gets all mad and there’s a fight?:)

Candle Isle

Summary: Jake texts you telling you, him, and Johnnie are going to Walmart for a valentines themed video and then you get there this guy starts hitting on you.

Pairing: Jake Webber x reader

Tw: violence, blood, random dude being a creep, Jake and Johnnie jokes (if this counts), cussing.

2k+ words

A/N: please note that i haven't written fanfic in a while so this writing might be a little bad but thank you so much for the request!

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Jake had texted you two hours ago asking for you to film a video and Johnnie. He said you guys would go to Walmart and just fuck around and buy a bunch of random stuff for another video for Johnnie’s channel. 

You and Jake had been dating for a few months now so of course you had made small appearances in some videos and filmed for them every now and then but you haven't done a full video with them yet. You were excited and nervous at the same time. More nervous than anything but Jake assured you that he would make sure you were fine the whole time. 

Your phone buzzed “I'm here” 

You gathered your things you needed to leave the house, locked the door, then walked down the stairs of the apartment building and saw Jake waiting for you at the door. Jake hears the door close so he turns around with a smile on his face

“Hey” you say and walk over to him looking up at him slightly. 

“Hey you look good” he puts his hand on your waist and leans down for a quick kiss and you smile into it. He starts leading you to the car holding your hand.

“Sorry we’re a little late Johnnie took forever to get ready” you simply nod and laugh a little bit

Jake walks around the car to the passenger side and opens the door for you and you quickly slide into the seat

“Hey Johnnie what's up” you say as Jake walks around the car to get in the car.

You have known Johnnie for quite a while now just from filming videos with a few of his friends and eventually he became really close with Jake and introduced you guys to each other about six months ago.

Jake gets in the car and we all agree to film an intro in the car at Walmart to be more discreet  because Walmart doesn't necessarily like people filming in the store. 

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Jake eventually finds a parking spot and sets up the camera on the dash. 

“Everyone ready” he puts thumbs up and turns around slightly in his seat to see Johnnie in the back seat.

You and Johnnie both nod and let Jake press record. 

“We are here at Walmart and we are going to look around and eventually I'm gonna get my lady something from the valentine's section” 

“Aww that's sweet” you say and look at jake

“My lady being this hot babe in the back seat” jake pointed at johnnie

“Hell yeah get fucked” johnnie looked at you with your jaw dropped and you laughed

“No but for real this is my valentine next to me and I'm just getting johnnie whatever he wants because he is lonely” Jake joked.

“Dude what the- let's get out of here” johnnie heads to get out.

You all get out of the car and head inside and on the way to the entrance while the cameras weren't rolling Jake turned to you and asked if you were comfortable. You simply smiled and nodded.

Entering the store Jake pulls out his phone to start filming again “okay guys do we want a cart?”

“Can I ride in it?” Johnnie says to the camera

“I know something you could ride” Jake jokes back at him and smirks

“Jake your girlfriend is here take it easy” he slightly whispers 

Jake pans the camera to you and you're just standing there staring at them. They both laugh at you and you just smile while grabbing a cart.

“Hop in” You tell Johnnie 

“Wait actually?” he hops in and you try to push the cart but struggle a little bit

Jake laughs at your struggle “Johnnie i think she's struggling a bit there buddy” Johnnie laughs and hops out the cart 

“Here y/n get in” Johnnie then lets you get in and starts pushing the cart while Jake films. 

Eventually you guys make your way to the candle section

“This is where i lose all my money to y/n” jake looks at you

“Let me get out, I love candles” you hop out of the cart and start looking at candles. Jake and Johnnie are on the other side of the aisle looking at other candles and cracking up over jokes.

“Yall I'm not gonna lie I'm going to piss my pants if i don't go to the bathroom right now” Jake says 

“Okay go we will wait here” Johnnie said 

Jake left quickly and you laughed at his dramatic urgency. Johnnie is only halfway down the aisle from you now, both of you just looking at candles silently.

You are bent down looking at the bottom shelf when you hear two guys behind you laughing. You weren't sure if it was at you but you were not taking that chance so you took your candles that you picked out to put in the cart and then walked over to Johnnie telling him you were slightly uncomfortable. 

You and Johnnie headed to the next aisle over so you weren't too far from where Jake would try to find you. You guys were looking at simple stuff on the shelves when two guys came up to you. You assumed it was the guys laughing just before. 

“Hey Sweetheart” one of these guys came up to you with his friend not too far behind him. He looked to be about college age or maybe just graduated but definitely still had the frat vibe. 

“Uhm Hi” You looked at him confused then turned to look at Johnnie with a weirded out look. He was already on his phone texting Jake about the situation. 

“Is this your boyfriend?” he looked around you to look at Johnnie waving his fingers as if he was  saying hi

“No but-” you tried to say your actual boyfriend was here but he had cut you off

“Oh so you're single” he gave you the most disgusting grin. You turned to Johnnie who had a slightly scared look on his face. You could tell that Johnnie wanted to do or say something about this but you also could tell that he had never been in a fight in his life and was scared to get beat up. You couldn't blame him.

“Well-” he had cut you off again. 

“Because me and my friend here think you're super cute and he bet me that I wouldn't be able to get your number” He pointed at his friend behind him. 

Before you could think of an answer you felt an arm around your shoulder. Looking over you saw it was Jake and his hand was cold from where he had just washed them. Not only did his cold hand calm you but him just showing back up filled you with relief. 

“Yeah she is pretty cute but sadly for you and happily for me she's taken” jake looked at him and tried to lighten the mood

“And you are?” He straightened his posture to ‘intimidate’ Jake but Jake wasn't having it. 

“Her boyfriend. Did you not pick that up from the ‘shes taken’ comment” Jake looked at this guy like he was the most stupid person in the world and removed his arm from around your shoulder. 

“Are you calling me dumb?” The guy cocked his head at Jake.

“Not necessarily but you must be if you didn't pick up on the fact that she didn't want you from how uncomfortable she is” Jake quickly shot back at this guy. 

“Come on she wasn't uncomfortable until you showed up” The guy rolled his at jake

“Hm, Really?” Jake turned to you and you looked down “No i think i know my girlfriend enough to say she was definitely uncomfortable”

“Lets ask her then” this guy leans over and tries to look at your face “huh love are you uncomfortable” you simply try to back up

“Bro don't get in her face like that” Jake pushes his shoulder lightly just to back him up a little bit.

“Hey don't touch me” The guy got angry and Jake steps in front of you to try and seem intimidating. 

“Maybe stop bothering us then” Jake grabs your hand and turns around and you guys try to leave

“Yeah, follow your owner like a pet.” This comment not only upset you but as soon as Jake saw the look on your face he immediately turned around.

Everything was happening so fast that by the time you felt Jake let go of your hand you turned around to see his fist hitting the creeps face. Immediately gasping you try to go and stop him but you feel Johnnie’s hand grab your arm. He didn't want you to get hurt as well.

“JAKE!” you try to stop him but by the time you got to him the other guys friend had already grabbed him and told him they needed to run before the cops got there.

You grab Jake's arm and he is breathing heavily, you turn him around quickly to look at him. 

“Oh my god, Jake you're bleeding” you grab his face lightly not wanting to hurt him

“Oh” he touches his face lightly to see the blood on his fingers

“Come on put your hood on we are leaving” you told him you pull his hood on for him and you guys just leave the cart behind. 

Johnnie follows quietly as you guys make your way out the store to the car. 

“I'm driving okay I'm not letting your drive after that you get that right?” you tell jake and he understands. You all get in the car and you realize he's been pretty quiet. “You good?” you turn to him asking softly and he nods. 

“God jake you have the longest fucking legs in existence” struggling to adjust the car seat. Everyone slightly laughs realizing you're trying to lighten the mood. 

“It's not my fault you're short” he comments back at you.

“I'm not that short” you roll your eyes

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You guys end up at the boys house and everyone gets out and walks in and Johnnie goes to his room. 

“Come on let's get you cleaned up” you put your bag down and grab Jake's hand dragging him towards the bathroom.

You both enter the bathroom and shut the door behind you as he leans against the counter and you walk over to him.

“Where do you want me?” he asks lowly and you could tell he feels bad.

“Well if you stand there i won't be able to reach you” you smile at him and shake your head lightly.

Jake puts his hands on your waist and turns you around and lifts you up onto the counter. 

“Better?” he asks and you think you might lose your mind. 

“Better.” you stare at him analyzing his face and injuries. He has a split eyebrow with dried blood running down his face, he also has a split lip. “Your lip hurt?” you look up at him with caring eyes because of his fresh piercings. 

“Oh yeah I'm not gonna lie I feel like it's gonna fall off” you laugh at him looking at it more deeply.

“Get the first aid kit and I'll clean it up to see if we need to remove the piercing” he immediately leans over to get the first aid kit from under the bathroom counter. As he does this you turn your body to wash your hands. He hands it to you and you set it on the counter next to you pulling out an alcohol wipe. You open it, wrapping it around your finger lightly tapping his eyebrow. After cleaning up his eyebrow you put a butterfly bandage on it. 

“Now the hard part” you pull his lip down lightly and he winces softly. “I think you should take the piercing out just in case” he groans and throws his head back. He had just got another put in because he swallowed the last one. “I know i know but i wouldn't want it to get infected and make your lip fall off, how would i kiss you then??” 

“Okay fine but I'm making you take it out you have smaller fingers.” you take out his lip piercing and clean it up.

“If it wasn't already swollen before it definitely is now” you joke a little “there isn't another injury on the lip he must have just hit the piercing and it got agitated” he puts his hand on your hips and squeezes a little trying not to hurt you. You clean it up a little more and put some ointment on it for now.  

“Are you mad?” he looks down at your lap. You put your hands on his chest in a comforting way 

“A little but also not at all. If that makes sense? I don't really like violence but I also really love a boyfriend who sticks up for me and cares about my comfort.” you rub your hand against his shoulder and tilt your head at him. He looks at you and nods. 

“Okay” he goes quiet for a second “how long until we can kiss again?” you press a light kiss against the corner of his mouth without the ointment. 

“Just a little because I'm not kissing your ointment lip sorry” you smile at him and he groans but then laughs brushing it off. 

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#jake webber x reader #jake webber #johnnie guilbert #x reader #jake webber fluff

[blainesebastian]

i got you (ccg universe)

words: 2,757 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (anon request): would loooove to read your take on reader x protective austin. notes: this is part of the ‘coffee cart girl’ universe but can be read alone. masterlist on my sidebar! :)  warnings: some uncomfortable situations  tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff

Despite the Elvis filming ending, that does not mean life completely settles down. There are interviews, events, dinners, things Austin is automatically invited to and included on and…by being his girlfriend, it makes you his continuous plus-one. And while that’s definitely something to get used to, you don’t exactly hate the vibe that the title carries whatsoever. You don’t go to everything but it’s nice to be included? Thought of—seen. There’s a space slowly being carved in Austin’s life where you can definitely fit. Especially with this whole movie script thing happening for yourself, you’re both figuring out how to manage your lives again, things are exploding in a good way…but it doesn’t mean it’s not a bit chaotic.

Leaving an audition building, you take in a deep breath as you pull your phone out of your coat pocket, your text message thread with Austin still open. You tap on his profile picture to call him, walking slowly down the street as the line trills. A soft smile tugs the corners of your mouth as he answers,

“’Lo?”

Your face pulls together in a wince, you didn’t realize how late it was, “Shit did I wake you?”

He clears his throat and you can picture him shaking his head with that boyish look he has, half asleep, scrubbing his fingers through his hair. It’s adorable to think about for sure,

“No, I was just dozin’.” And that’s a complete lie but okay, “How’d it go?”

You hum, your head tipping back slightly towards the sky as your boots click on the pavement, “It was incredible—I mean, nerve wracking at the same time? You’re essentially finding a person to represent your thoughts and words and just…everything you’ve put into characters and their development together,”

You shake your head because you’re rambling. Austin’s obviously been through the interview process before and the auditions that come after that. He knows exactly what you’re talking about…and yet, it’s so different coming from your end. Writing a script, watching people actually want to fill the role. You’ve got a great producer who loves your work, an even better boyfriend who believes in you—it’s just hard to imagine that it’s all coming down to actually happening.

A movie of your script. Never would have thought that when you decided to run coffee on the set of Elvis. You know you’re lucky and that Austin helped a lot when it came to editing the script and reaching out to someone you could share your work with but…you’re also trying to lean into something he’s told you countless times: you deserve it.

“It’s surreal,” You finish with a laugh and Austin hums in response, you can hear the smile in the tone of his voice without even having to see him.

“M’proud of you.”

You smile, your stomach fluttering at the sentiment. You can’t wait to come home to him, crawl into bed, allowing him to draw you close and into a kiss. Perfect way to end a wonderful day. “Thank you.” It’s almost a whisper, something so genuine and intimate that it’s difficult to share outloud over the phone.

“I’ll be there in about ten, okay?”

Frowning and slowly coming to a stop, you shake your head, “Austin, I’m practically to the subway—you don’t have to pick me up.”

“Well walk back,” There’s some shuffling on his end of the phone, most likely making sure he has everything including a wallet and car keys, “It’s late Y/N, I don’t want you takin’ the subway.”

There’s this double-edged sword in which you want to tell Austin you’ve been taking the subway since you were a teenager and that it’s not a big deal—by the time he makes it down here to pick you up, you’d be home already. At the same time, your heart warms at the protective gesture.

Sighing dramatically, you turn to face the direction you just came from. “You want me to walk back?”

You can hear the ghost of a smile in his voice, “I want you to walk back,” He confirms, “We can find an ice cream shop still open on the way home—or grab a late-night pizza, whatever you want.”

Raising your eyebrows, you begin wandering back towards the audition building, switching your phone from one ear to the other, “Are you bribing me?”

“Definitely.”

A soft, amused laugh leaves your lips, “See you soon.” Before you end the call.

Regardless that it’s been a long day and you just want to be home, you’re touched by the fact that even though you woke Austin up and he has an equally busy day tomorrow to get rest for, he wants to make sure you’re safe. A smile tugs the corners of your mouth, shaking your head as you look down at your phone and tap the ‘Find a Friend’ app—he’s already on his way. And okay, you definitely wouldn’t say no to pizza, he knows you.

It doesn’t take long before you’re lingering outside the audition building, tipping your head back to look up at the structure. You still can’t believe all of this is happening—the fact that you not only wrote something that other people are compelled by but that it’s going to be filmed. And honestly? you’re not expecting some sort of box-office hit, you’re just honored that it’ll be in theaters and seen.

Austin’s support has been everything. That’s what really matters to you.

You tug on the handle of the building but it’s locked, which you assumed, so you lean against the brick and check your phone again. Eight minutes out. Humming to yourself, you look through social media (briefly, that’s still not something you’re used to) before putting your phone away. The street is pretty empty for the most part, except there’s this guy walking down across the way. Business suit, tall, blonde. Something inside of you makes you avert your eyes, one of those innate things women sometimes learn automatically when it’s dark and you’re alone in public. The only thing that makes you look up is the sound of footsteps getting closer.

This guy is crossing the street. You swallow, straightening your shoulders, trying not to look directly at him but he’s approaching you,

“Excuse me, you know where Grand Street is?”

Clearing your throat, you lean up off the building slightly, “Uh, I think it’s down two blocks.” You motion with your arm in the other direction, where he’s come from, which…doesn’t make you feel any easier.

He hums and nods, looking down the street and then back at you. His eyes definitely sweep over your form. “Waiting for an Uber?”

There’s this chill that dips into your stomach from the question alone, “Boyfriend. He’ll be here any minute.”

He smiles and there’s this moment where you think he might back off but he takes a step into your personal space, which causes you to take a step back right into the audition building. “I could wait with you; this isn’t the best area to be alone.”

You have no idea what possesses people to think like this and you can’t help but wonder what kind of man he is—does he have a family? Siblings? Did he happen upon you and see you alone and figured he could get away with something? Or was he out scoping the area just looking for someone he could harass? Either way, panic surges in your bloodstream. You attempt to get your phone out and walk away,

“He’s actually around the corner, goodnight.”

Before you can even take a step in the other direction, he grabs your shoulder, hard, and forces you against the brick which digs into your back. Your phone fumbles right out of your hand and clatters to the sidewalk. The thing is, you’ve taken self-defense classes before—you know how to kick, to throw a punch, what to do if someone pins you, and yet you feel utterly defenseless. Everything you’ve learned right out the window.

“You know, I was nothing but nice.” This guy snaps, suddenly all the supposed charm washed away from his voice.

There’s an attempt to push him away but he’s taller, stronger, can more easily manipulate your body against the brick wall. A strangled cry leaves your throat and all you can think about is the fact that he hasn’t hit you yet because one punch will knock you out, you know it. And Austin, he floods your senses in such a way that you almost cry out for him.

“Stop!” You screech, pulling at his suit and manage to rip a button off.

“You bitch, that was expensive.” He squeezes your arms so hard, definitely will be bruises, a choked cry escaping your throat as his leg slips in-between yours, forcing your knees apart.

His hand is moving and you panic, start clawing at him, anything you can—

A screech of car tires, suddenly the weight is gone, he’s pulled back from you. You can barely see through your teary blurred vision even though instinctively you know exactly who it is. Austin throws a punch, something hard that cracks, and the guy in the suit stumbles to the pavement.

“Get the fuck out of here.” Austin snaps, “Now.”

There’s a brief moment where the guy considers the opposite but he takes one look at you, spits blood from his mouth onto the pavement, and turns to briskly walk away.

Austin is quick to turn towards you, his complete demeanor changing as he gently touches your shoulders, “Hey look at me,” He cups your chin, running his thumb along your cheek, “You okay?”

The question is so simple and yet when you look up into those blue eyes of his you just burst into tears, the dam breaks wide open. There are the remnants of fear there but also just complete relief that he’s here, that you’re okay. Austin wraps his arms around you, drawing you into his chest and holding you as tight as he can without hurting you. The force of you clutching onto him almost knocks him a step back and he takes a deep breath in through his nose.

“Shh,” He whispers, stroking through your hair, “C’mon, let’s get you home.”

Pressing a kiss to your hairline, he draws back just enough to help you walk to the car.

--

The car ride and walk into the apartment is quiet, Austin doesn’t try to ask questions or pry, just allowing you to soak into your thoughts and feel whatever you’re feeling. You appreciate it but at the same time, you almost wish he’d distract you. You know you’re teetering this line of…feeling so ridiculous and ashamed for allowing this thing to happen to you, especially since you’d almost boasted about being able to take the subway without any issues, and on the other hand—it could have been so much worse? So why are you so shaken up?

Yet at the same time, you understand that…stupid and pointless shit like this happens to women all the time and you can own your emotions—that you’re scared, still trembling, trying not to cry anymore. You shed your shoes and your jacket, feet padding against the tile as you make your way to the bathroom. There’s a large part of you that wants to close the door, hide, shut Austin out but you don’t. Can’t. Running a hand over your face, you glance at yourself in the mirror—a mess, bloodshot eyes, cheeks flushed, hair a little mussed. Grabbing a washcloth, you run it under warm water before washing your face, Austin leaning against the bathroom doorjamb, soft eyes on you.

“I don’t need to hear ‘I told you so’.” You mumble, sniffling. You toss the washcloth to the side where the hamper is and you can feel rather than see Austin tense up because,

“Y/N, you know I’d never say that.” He gently reaches for your arm, fingers wrapping around your wrist. You hate that you wince, a kneejerk reaction moreso than pain.

Swallowing you turn towards him, not quite looking into his eyes, instead reaching for the fabric of his shirt to play with between your fingers. A grounding point for yourself—you’re unsure if you want to shower or just…crawl directly into bed and not get out for a little while. Maybe both.

Austin runs his hands along your arms, carefully, moving to tug your shirt over your head. You don’t protest, allowing him to set the fabric aside on the sink. You’re not looking in the mirror, but instead at your boyfriend’s face, and you can tell with the hardness like ice in the blue of his eyes and the tightness of his jaw that you must be beginning to bruise.

“Doesn’t hurt too bad,” You lie and Austin shakes his head, looking like he could hit that guy all over again.

Speaking of, you pick up one of his hands and run your thumb along the knuckles, pressing a kiss right above them. Nothing a warm washcloth won’t fix and then an icepack overnight. You have a feeling that his knuckles are the least of Austin’s concerns.

There are a few silent moments shared here, Austin picking up another washcloth and soaking it in cool water to ghost over the red marks on your arms and you decide a shower can come tomorrow, you just want to sleep. The whole late-night pizza thing kinda got derailed anyways and your stomach is in knots.

Putting lotion on afterwards, Austin brings you in one of his t-shirts to change into from the bedroom, lingering in a way that’s comforting. You change your clothes, taking your bra off and sliding the soft material of the shirt up and over your head. You swallow, pulling your hair out from underneath the fabric before rubbing the back of your neck.

“I just stood there.” You blurt out and his eyebrows draw together.

“Hmm?”

“Like I—” You shake your head, eyes flickering up to Austin’s, “I’ve taken self-defense classes and if you hadn’t been there,” Or had been five minutes later, “I just stood there.”

“Hey,” Austin’s voice is concerned and warm, reaching for you with it along with his hands, “It’s not your fault, alright?” A choked sound leaves your lips that sounds a little bit like a laugh because how can you not feel responsible for that? Even though deep down you know Austin’s right. Those classes are never quite like the real thing happening to you.

Austin breathes out, his hands moving to cup your cheeks. He runs his thumbs along your cheekbones, leaning down to press several kisses along your face—jawline, nose, forehead, cheeks, before pulling you close. His arms wrap around your shoulders, creating a cage against his body. You can’t help but close your eyes, breathing in the comforting scent you associate with him—sandalwood and something distinctly Austin.

“I got you,” He says against the shell of your ear, pressing another kiss directly below.

You nod your head, squeezing him, allowing yourself to slip into the warm safety of his embrace.

--

When nightmares visit you that night, and they’re worse than you can possibly imagine, Austin utters the same thing. You’re pulling at the sheets as you twist and turn, a small whimper leaving your lips as Austin wakes up and gently touches your side—

Jerking awake, you squirm away from his touch, breathing heavily in the dark, fingers dragging the sheets into your fists,

“Y/N, just a nightmare,” He murmurs, voice caked with sleep. There’s a distant feeling of guilt from waking him but right now you’re just trying to get your heartbeat to stop hammering in your ears. Running your hands over your face, you turn to face him, Austin’s hands running through your hair to pull it away from your skin.

“Just a nightmare.” Austin whispers, drawing you close with a squeeze of your hip.

Swallowing you nod, wiping underneath your right eye where one tear falls. You allow yourself to be drawn closer, fitting against his chest, under his chin. Your eyes fall closed with a sniffle, arm stretching around his slim waist and breathing him in, settling yourself.

“I got you.” He assures again, drawing circles into your back, breath warm along the shell of your ear. You memorize the calm pattern of his breathing, helping you with your own.

You believe him and it eventually lulls you back to sleep.

--

If ya’ll can’t tell by now, I  really love writing hurt/comfort lmao hope you enjoyed! :) thanks for reading.

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler drabble #austin butler fic #elvis 2022 #mccall writes things #ccg

[mrs-johansson]

Strangers in the night - Scarlett Johansson x Fem!Reader

Part 5:

"Halo?" His deep voice spoke from the other side of the line. "You think I walk around with paint brushes all over my skin, Evans? Ah, you're so dramatic," I sighed as I watched the city in the night lights from the car. "You can't deny that you do have those most times," he said with a light chuckle. "You only saw those because I was at home, I don't go out like that," I said and he laughed louder at this point. "You called me because of that?" "Oh sorry for calling then..." "I'm joking, what's up?" He asked. " I just had dinner with Scarlett actually, thought I'd tell you," I said, fidgeting with my fingers. "Really?" Oh, how surprised he was. Hehe. "Yeah, it was nice. She's great." I said with a smile that I tried to fight back so hard. "I'm glad you guys finally met." "I invited her to the New Year's thing if that's okay..." "Why wouldn't it be? It's your party anyways. But I'm happy you're making new friends." "Me too, Chris."

***

It was just two days from a whole new year. I'm excited about next year, since I have so many new projects on the way and I will start filming again soon.

But the one I'm looking forward to the most is the dinner. I'm very happy that I can spend time with my friends finally, it's been quite a while since we all just had fun together.

Chris and Scott are coming today, and they'll be here for about 3-4 days. We're gonna go shopping tomorrow and we'll set up everything on the 31st. It's gonna be fun, but I'm nervous, I've never done something like this.

***

"Scott, you sure you're not coming?" I looked at him as he was laying on the couch. "Nah, you guys go ahead, I need time to prepare myself for the amount of alcohol I will drink in the next couple of days." He said sassily and I just chuckled. "Alright, do you want anything though?" "No, thanks." "Call me if you do." And we left the house. Chris got into the driver's seat and we made our way to the grocery store.

"Are you excited? You were never really a party person," Chris asked, not taking his eyes off of the road. "It's not that kind of party though, but I am.  And I'm happy to see everyone in one place," I smiled, looking down at my hands, fidgeting with the rings on my fingers. "So you're cooking?" "Obviously, it's a dinner party. I planned the whole meal, 5 courses and it's gonna be perfect." "How many people are on the final list?" "Uhm... 10 with me, but I didn't count Julia, do you have any idea if Scarlett brings Rose or not? Just cause I need to get more things," I looked at him and he shrugged. "I'll ask when we get there."

After a 10 more minute drive we finally reached the store and quickly got a cart before going in. "I made you a list, in case I lose mine," I gave him a piece of paper. His eyes ran over the things that I scribbled down before he nodded. "I'll call Scarlett now," he said, grabbing his phone from his pocket. "Mhm."

I already stopped at the first aisle when Chris started speaking. "Hey, how are you? I heard you’re coming to Y/N's for New Year's," he said, and he leaned on the cart, while I put a bag of potatoes in there. "Yeah, we're going too. Is Rose coming? I haven't seen her in so long," he said and I just chuckled. "Oh that's great," he looked at me and nodded and I gave him a thumbs up. "Can you ask if they're allergic to something?" I asked lowly. "Are you guys allergic to anything?" He spoke into the phone. "Scarlett doesn't eat dairy," Chris said. "Thanks."

They talked for a bit more and then soon he hung up and we finished shopping. The cart was literally full. I bought so many things, food, decorations, and kid's stuff. "It's like you're getting ready to have an apocalypse or something," Chris chuckled while we were filling the trunk with the bags. "I'm cooking a lot, let me be Evans."

***

"Alright, I have everything. Do you guys need anything before I jump into this madness?" I looked at the two men sitting at the counter. "Do you need help?" Scott asked. "I may need that later, but for now... I need to get my mind into this." They laughed and I just glared at them.

"So... what about Léa? Have you guys talked since Christmas?" I asked subtly while cutting up some vegetables. "Yeah." That's all Chris said. "Aaand?" Scott dragged the a. "We're going to the trip you guys set up." "Oh thank god, I thought it was all for nothing." Scott let out a big sigh and I just had a shit eating grin on my face. "That's great. I'm happy that our plan worked Scotty," I said, turning around, holding my hand up for a high five for him which he gladly accepted. "That's that baby doll."

***

I've already had two courses done and I also wanted to leave a couple of things for tomorrow, so I was just finishing up the soup. I took a cute picture of the dish and posted it on my story just because it looked so good.

Music was playing in the background but from the living room, I could hear some sports playing on the TV, which I'm sure Scott wasn't very happy about. They always argued about the channels.

I also made something quick for dinner since I wasn't planning on giving them the party food. I finished around 7 pm with everything I wanted to do today, and I called for Chris and Scott so we could have dinner, but they refused to get up from the couch so we had dinner in the living room just watching some football, which was pretty boring.

I had my SpongeBob socks on, my favorite hoodie, and some sweatpants. Wrapped a blanket around me, letting the warmth of the plate heat up my hands. It wasn't that cold, Chris was in a short-sleeve shirt and he wasn't complaining about the heat. I've always been a person who's cold like all the time. But the fuzzy clothes just made me feel so comfortable. "I've never understood this game," I murmured as I watched all these men throw that weirdly shaped ball around. "It's not that complicated," Chris said with his mouth full of food. "Well, that was attractive," I said with an impressed look. Scott just chuckled, while Chris almost choked on his bite. "That wasn't funny," he said after swallowing the rest. "I think it was pretty good."

After I finished my dish I watched the game for a bit more then I decided to go take a shower and then go to bed since tomorrow's gonna be a crazy one. I said good night to the boys and with that, I went upstairs and got ready for bed, and in no time I fell asleep.

***

The next morning I woke up, made breakfast, and started decorating right away. I set up a bunch of candles all around the house, with lights and some silver decors.

"This is way too early for you to stand on a ladder," heard Chris' voice from the doorway. "It's never too early to do anything," I got down from the ladder, and picked up the empty box. "Want me to make breakfast?" He asked but I just smiled and walked past him. "It's in the microwave."

***

"Alright, guests will arrive around 6-7, so be ready until then. I have everything else set so we just need to get dressed. Wear something nice," I said as Scott and Chris were standing in the kitchen.

We sat up the table nicely and the food was done too. "You really outdid yourself Y/N, it looks amazing," Chris said while looking at the decorations. "Thank you. I couldn't let them down now, could I?" I sighed. "Anyways, I'm gonna go get ready. You should too." Rushed up the stairs to my room.

I chose a white lace corset, some leather pants, and a jacket. I put on some simple black heels and some jewelry before letting my hair down from the loose bun I had on. One last check in the mirror and I walked downstairs.

#gxg #scarlett johansson x you #scarlett johansson #scarlett johansson x female reader #scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett johansson imagines #chris evans

[faithfromanewperspective]

Okay, here's a thought: you've probably noticed from posts by now that I'm working on some original space-fantasy material and I just thought I'd throw this your way—I've noticed that in film and television interior design for starships and starbases with simulated gravity tends to exist on a single-axis spectrum from "Grand Faux-Marble Hotel" to "Metal Piping Everywhere," neither of which strike me as particularly good actual design ideas for a place that people are going to live in for extended periods, not when there's no real outside to go and spend time in. So I'm just curious if you have any thoughts on what good urban design would look like for, say, a starbase. How could perhaps green-space be brought in to create a feel of going outdoors in hallways, for instance? What other solutions do you think there could be for making a sealed environment like that look more like something real people would be able to thrive living in?

okay. so i did some googling as to what a star base is and I am still confused, but I will endeavour to do my best anyway.

First of all, the practicalities. They need oxygen, they need food. Guess what creates both of those? Plants! And you've heard me talk about hydroponics: it's a super water and nutrient efficient way to grow All Things Green and I imagine that a starbase or whatever would want to be as self-sufficient as possible and won't have a problem getting solar energy either direct to their plants or to power artificial UV lights that do just as good a job. Also, seeing as there are humans there breathing out carbon dioxide: basic evolutionary science says, get the plants in first, get them as numerous as possible, that way they make oxygen pretty much on their own and you're saved from having to cart the stuff in which is an expensive and dangerous process (carbon dioxide is a lot more inert and safer to transport: when near a fire it will put the fire out rather than Big Burn). You could also utilise human, um, waste products in some variation of hydroponics that's a bit more like aquaponics. Nutrient cycling. Or bring in some fish and just have aquaponics as well?

So that being said, you've got the required Green Stuff in order to feel like you're going outside. Green plants growing all up the walls and bright light and the sound of running water. Maybe it's light and humid enough to grow some sort of ground cover as well with stepping stones so it doesn't get too worn by passerby? You could definitely make hallways and hallways of this, because space is so limited just utilise anywhere you have to grow food. And it will mean the air is fresher as well. You can get design inspo for this by looking up anything along the lines of 'green building' on any image search or Pinterest. Faeriecore meets futuristic technology: my favourite kind of vibe. Plants in the bathrooms, wherever is practical really, what you really want to think is: everything has to be super efficient, because gravity simulation is no doubt expensive and energy intensive to run. No silly extra space like the Grand Faux Marble Hotel. PVC pipes are a lot lighter than metal and won't rust when you've got all your necessary salts running through them to feed your plants, but they're not the most attractive so you want green to cover them wherever possible. Think of the plumbing: you want everything to flow from source to sink as efficiently as possible, and no nutrient, water, etc to ever be wasted. And then, on top of this basic skeletal framework, somewhere that feels liveable. Blues and greens to calm the nervous system when you're so far away from actual soil. A basic compost plant going on somewhere that recycles some of the nutrients fed back into the little soil pellets used for hydroponics and the juices that run through as fertiliser. Lots of chemical testing but make it cute little glass or plastic probes that are super quick and you can test anywhere. Everything sealed off well for the inevitable day that gravity does fail, and you want to make sure you don't lose all your water and dissolved nutrients when that happens. You probably just make entire walls out of growing green things, honestly, not the structural ones but between most rooms this will do. Herbs growing on the kitchen side of the wall, that kind of thing. Mint in the hallways that you can just pull off and chew to freshen your breath: access to chewing gum and the like will be limited.

Anyway, hope that gives you a few ideas! What I love about urban design as opposed to just interior is it sees the inside and the outside, the buildings and their layout and surrounds as a whole system and it's easy to slot in the framework of how do we meet all of our users' needs within this system as a whole? And to do so you want to create an ecosystem. You want to include both practical needs and the need for beauty; efficiency not only in terms of resources but also accessibility (I assume your dwelling population are hard at work doing Starship Things and don't have time to rush back and forth in a poorly designed area); and diverse areas for a diverse set of users: in real life cities, think of animals as well as people. On a starship/starbase, you have the possibility of having to house aliens for a while. Where would they feel safe, have their needs met, and if miscommunication does occur and they break something, where and how would it have minimal impact?

#urban design #urban farming #urban ecology #faeriecore #urban design in space #starship #starbase

[cuteteacakes]

The first step is admitting you have a problem.

I have a problem.

#OKAY I ACTUALLY FILMED WHAT I PUT IN MY CART SO I CAN GO BACK TO IT #I AM NOT DUMB ENOUGH TO SPEND 600+ DOLLARS #i just went through all the yoi merch and put what i want in the cart thats all u3u

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Clubhouse

Summary: While serving some guests one afternoon on the golf course, the reader winds up attracting the attention of one of the players...

Pairing: Jensen x reader

Word Count: 2,700ish

Warnings: language, minor accident

AN: Enjoy!

______

“Stupid rich assholes,” you mumbled to yourself. You had a cooler in your hand with the group of men on hole seven’s drinks inside. Every single time they came in to play they never got anything at the clubhouse and you always had to go out and wound up as their personal server for the day. They didn’t even tip and every time you brought it up to your boss he said to let you know if they did anything inappropriate. They’d skirted the line and made some comments but you knew they were long standing clients and you’d be the one getting fired if you said something.

“Four!” you heard just before turning and getting whacked in the forehead. It landed you back on your ass and you groaned, blinking your eyes open. It took a moment for things to get clear but you cocked your head at the man helping you sit up. “I am so sorry. Are you-”

“I so have a concussion if Dean Winchester is talking to me,” you said. You put your hands over your face, a gentle one holding your back, the other on your arm keeping you sat up.

“Yeah I’m on it,” said a different voice and you looked up, narrowing your eyes. 

“Why is Karl Urban driving a golf cart away? What the…” you trailed off, looking back at the other man, his face scrunched up. “What-”

“That was Karl and I’m Jensen. I played Dean on TV. We were golfing and I hit a ball that hit a tree and smacked you right in the face which I am so sorry about. Are you okay?”

“Oh. Gotcha,” you said. “I thought you were American?”

“I am but I’m here filming for work. Seriously, are you okay?” he asked. He put a hand on your forehead carefully, wincing a bit. 

“I’m okay. I’m hard headed,” you said. You tried to stand but he kept you seated. “I gotta get back to work.”

“Hey, just relax. Karl went to get some help, make sure you don’t have a concussion. You might have passed out for a second,” he said, reaching into your cooler.

“I don’t think I did.” He grabbed a beer, holding it against your forehead, a sigh escaping you. 

“Better Y/N?”

“Better.” He took off his baseball cap, sitting down beside you as he held the cold can up. “How’d you know my name?”

He tapped your name tag and you nodded, a sad look in his eyes.

“It’s okay Jensen. Not the first time I’ve been hit by a golf ball. First time to the face though so you get some bonus points for that one.”

“I don’t think the aim of the game is to hit the staff with balls,” he chuckled. “How’s your head? Dizzy? Feel sick at all?”

“I feel like I got smacked in the face but no, other than that I’m okay. I think you’re overreacting a bit honestly.”

“Well I’d rather overreact than under when it comes to head injuries,” he said. You smiled, not much else place to look at other than his face. 

“Would now be an awkward time to tell you I was a Dean girl?” you said.

“No no. Excellent choice,” he laughed. “As long as you’re not a crazy one...but given you don’t even know my name I’m gonna say that’s a no.”

“Sorry about that,” you said.

“Don’t be. I kinda like the fact that I’m still a nobody to a majority of people. Keeps me humble.”

“I got a feeling you’re the kind of guy that’s always humble.”

“What makes you think that?” he asked.

“Well the evidence so far points to you not being a douchebag celebrity. Aside from the hitting me in the face with a golf ball.”

“I did say four to be fair.”

“I’m not blaming you for my bad luck. I mean you can act and you’re handsome. If you were good at golf too that’d just be plain old unfair to the rest of us.” He laughed, giggling actually before he bit his bottom lip. “Oh don’t tell me you’re good at golf too.”

“I’m very average,” he chuckled. “You’re funny. I like that.”

“Not every day you get to meet Jensen whatever your last name is.” He laughed again, a man coming down the path from hole seven. “Oh fuck.”

“Y/N,” said Mr. Berrens. “Where are our drinks?”

“Cooler,” you said, pointing at it. 

“Is that my beer?” he asked. He ripped the can out of Jensen’s hand and Jensen immediately popped up. He took it back and handed it to you. “What the-”

“She’s hurt. Here,” said Jensen, pulling out his wallet. He shoved a ten dollar bill in his hand along with the cooler. “Take your drinks and please go.”

“She can’t-”

“Order another drink,” said Jensen. Mr. Berrens huffed but left as you stood up, Jensen grabbing your arm. “You alright?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna walk back,” you said. Jensen stopped you from taking a step though and you sighed. “I’m not dizzy.”

“Well stay here for one second while I get my driver and we’ll go together. Last thing we need is you passing out on the concrete by yourself.”

You held up your hands, Jensen back after a moment, his driver in one hand, his other hanging by his side ready to grab you.

“So what are you filming right now?” you asked.

“A TV show with Karl. The Boys. Ever hear of it?”

“Is that the one with the dolphin?” He laughed and shrugged.

“I mean I guess? It’s like this group of superheroes but they’re mostly bad against this group of humans with vendettas. It reflects a lot of real world problems too. I think it’s cool but it’s a bit too much for some people which I totally understand.”

“Gore doesn’t bother me. So what are you? A superhero or a human?”

“A supe. I’m kinda a bad guy which is a big departure from Dean obviously.”

“That’s okay. I mean I love Dean but sometimes you gotta try something new. I mean everybody does reboots nowadays. I’m sure you guys could go back and do more if you ever wanted. But a bad guy superhero sounds pretty cool too. I’ve been thinking about getting a different job myself actually.”

“Oh? You mean you don’t love serving drinks to dickheads?” he chuckled. You smiled and shook your head. “What do you like to do?”

“Be able to pay my bills,” you sighed.

“What would you like to do?” he asked again. You shrugged. “Come on. Forget about money for a second. Anything at all.”

“Doesn’t really matter. If it’s not enough money to support myself then what’s the point. I don’t have a safety net.” He stopped talking and you let out a quiet sigh, walking up the path with him, spotting some paramedics come walking your way. “Thanks for walking me Jensen. Go finish your game of golf. I’m alright.”

“You sure?” he asked, Karl pulling up in the cart.

“Yeah. One of us might as well have fun today.”

“Y/N,” said your boss a few hours later as you worked behind the bar. You popped your head up, surprised to see him behind the counter. He looked a little awkward and you frowned. “I’m sorry. You know Mr. Berrens is related to-”

“I know,” you sighed. You undid your waist apron, handing it to your boss. 

“Here,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a few hundred in cash. 

“I can’t take everybody’s tips.”

“Take it,” he said, shoving it in your hand. “I’m sorry.”

“I’ll be okay. I always am.” You ducked in the back and to the staff area, grabbing your bag and heading outside. You caught sight of Jensen and Karl talking by a car in the parking lot but avoided them. You just wanted to go home and try to find someplace hopefully better to work.

“What can I get ya?” you asked nearly a week later, hearing the bell go off at the door. You spun around and saw Jensen and Karl again along with a few other people. 

“Got a table for ten or so?” someone asked.

“Back corner has a big booth. You guys want food menus?” you asked. You held up a few and saw a few nods, holding them out. “Jim’ll be over to get you guys squared away in just a sec if you want to take a seat.”

“Thanks,” you heard, the group already looking like this wasn’t their first bar stop of the night. You spotted Jensen lean against the bartop, a sad smile on his face.

“Here I was hoping when you lost your other job you’d wind up not working behind a bar again.”

“Not as glamorous as being a TV star but I get by. You want to order your drink?” you asked.

“How about an old fashioned?” he said. 

“One old fashioned coming up,” you said. He took a seat while you made his drink, Jensen putting one elbow against the bar, resting his chin in his hand. 

“How much do you know about bars? I mean running them.”

“A bit. My parents have a brewery on the other side of Toronto. I kinda grew up learning a bunch of stuff. But that’s different from a bar.”

“I’m sure it is. Why don’t you work for your parents?” he asked. You laughed and set the drink down, Jensen sliding over his credit card.

“Oh I don’t have that luxury, actor boy,” you said, swiping it and handing him the receipt and a pen.

“They assholes?”

“I haven’t spoken to them since the day I turned eighteen. Does that answer your question?” you said. He stared at you, jotting down a tip. It was a good sized one but not out of the realm of reasonable. You started to take the paper back when he put his hand on it. “What?”

“How much do you make a year?”

“Wow. Are you sure you weren’t the one that got bonked on the head? I don’t need a knight in shining armour thank you very much.”

“Well see the thing is I own this brewery and I just lost my general manager cause his family is moving out of state. When I come across someone who seems like she’d be qualified for the job, I want to make sure I’m offering enough to get her to consider.”

“I want fifty.”

“Alright.”

“And moving expenses.”

“Easy.”

“And you have to get me a working visa.”

“I’ve done it a million times myself.” You leaned over the counter, taking the receipt away.

“I’m not buying it. Go sit with your friends or I’ll kick you out.” He held up his hands and walked away, making sure to take a seat with his back to you for the rest of the night.

“Oh come on,” you said when Jensen came in alone the next night. He had a backpack on and pulled out a folder, sliding it over to you. “What-”

“Work contract. Benefits. Working Visa for eighteen months. Information on the brewery is in there along with my number. Do your research and if you want to work something out, call me. I leave Canada in three days. Offer expires then.” With that he spun around and slipped out of the bar, the other bartender walking over.

“He your friend?” she asked.

“I don’t...know yet.”

Three Months Later

“Why is it balls hot here,” you said, wiping your face off as you walked the property of the brewery with Jensen. “Oh my God. I would not have moved here if I knew about the freaking ninety degree weather in December you nutjob.”

“I didn’t even tell you about all the creepy crawlies-”

“I don’t want to know! You’re paying to have my rental sprayed! That’s not even a joke!” you said.

“Alright alright,” he chuckled. He stopped and you looked around, taking a deep breath. “What do you think? Regretting this?”

“No. Just a lot of new things at once,” you said. 

“Oh I forgot to give you this,” he said, reaching into his pocket. He held out a check and you frowned. “It’s a retainer check. There’s a number of breweries around here. I don’t want you running off and working for somebody else.”

“Put it towards the bug spray. I never said I was staying here permanently. I’m here for a year and if I like what I see, then I’ll consider staying. Deal?”

“You really are hard headed.” You smiled but he put the check away. “Fine, fine. Come meet your employees. You’re the one running this place from now on.”

Six Months Later

“Hey,” you said, walking into Jensen’s kitchen with a tray of brownies. You looked around, Jensen humming from where he stood by the island. “I thought you were having a party for everybody. Literally all day long we’ve been talking about it.”

“Oh that party is tomorrow. Tonight is an us party.” You rolled your eyes, Jensen pecking a quick kiss on your lips. 

“You just wanted homemade brownies to yourself.”

“It is one of the reasons I love you after all.” He took the tray away from you and turned back, hands going to your waist. 

“Here I thought it was because I got distribution to nearly every inch of this hot ass state.”

“Oh that too.” He bit his bottom lip and you grinned.

“You’re trying really hard to leave that hot ass comment alone there aren’t you.”

“You have no idea,” he said. You smirked, Jensen closing his eyes. “I’m going to behave and not stoop to such ungentlemanly conduct.”

“What if I don’t want you to? You did say this was a party.” He smiled and opened his eyes, taking a deep breath. “What’s up babe? Something’s got you on edge.”

“I want you to come with me to Canada for filming next season.” You leaned back, Jensen frowning. “I know, I know. You have the brewery but I think you can run it remotely and I really, really would love for you to come with me.”

“Are you asking me to move in with you when you head up for filming next week?”

“I’m asking you to move in tonight…and in Canada. What do you…think about that?”

“I think that is a big step. Are you sure?”

“I’ve been all in for a while. You though…”

“Yeah. I’d love to.”

“Good cause I really don’t want to stay away from you more than absolutely necessary.”

“I do have one request.”

“What is it?”

“I so get to go golfing with Karl Urban.” He laughed and nodded, Jensen hugging you tight. “Figured you wouldn’t mind.”

One Month Later

“Four!” called Jensen. You and Karl ducked, popping your heads up when Jensen threw his back.

“What is wrong with you and hole six?” you said.

“Want to hit off the ladies tee Ackles?” said Karl.

“At least if you slice it right again you won’t decapitate someone,” you teased. Jensen grumbled and teed off again, once again hitting the ball against the tree. Someone back on the path shouted, a man jumping by the time you turned around.

“Sorry!” called Jensen.

“What are you doing on the course?” said Mr. Berrens. 

“You-“

“I’m a member, Mr. Berrens. Can you kindly-“

“Ay. Fuck off,” said Karl. Mr. Berrens took a step back and grumbled down the path. 

“This is why you’re my favorite Karl,” you said with a big smile.

“Hey!” said Jensen.

“Oh I’m just kidding. Mostly. I just love our aggressive kiwi.”

“Did I ever tell you how Jensen-“

“Why did I think allowing you two together would be a good idea,” sighed Jensen. You tossed him another ball and he put it on his tee. 

“Come on babe. Third times the charm. Just go more to the left so you stop splicing.”

Jensen lined up his shot and swung, both you and Karl whistling.

“Nice shot,” you both said.

“Thank you peanut gallery,” said Jensen. He walked back, handing his driver over to you. “Your turn sweetheart.”

“Watch and see. Watch and see.”

________

#spn #supernatural #jensen x reader #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #rpf #jensen fanfic

[1kook]

imax & climax

summary; The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings; fingering, blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl kinda idk lol, daddy kink that morphs into i love u kink tags;  jk is an avid history channel viewer, jk hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, jk goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count; 9.8k

notes; there is no rest for the wicked, aka miss 1kook writes another part for this fic i swore wasn't gonna be a series except this time we ditch the gentlemen persona and go into maximum overdrive. its not proofread bc i wrote this entire thing at 4 am last night after inhaled a whole bucket of spicy popcorn

[ part 1 ; netflix & chill ] [ part 2 ; hulu & wohoo ]

Jungkook sees it on display during your weekly Target trip. You know he won’t say anything because despite how long you’ve dated he still likes to pretend he’s the epitome of adult maturity. Yet the way his eyes linger over the electronics section, cart rolling to a stop in front of the massive screen, tells you all you need to know.

“Baby, the toilet paper is this way,” you sing, giving the front of the cart a gentle tug that pulls it and his thoughts away from the television that seems to hold reign over his interest.

“Ah,” he mumbles as he shakes himself out of whatever trance he was in. “Right.”

The Target trip ends rather uneventfully; you grab all the items you came for and make the executive decision of swapping Jungkook’s tangerine bathroom soap with strawberry instead. Normally he’d put up a good fight, argue about the comfort that came with consistency, but today he says nothing. You chalk it up to that flatscreen that hypnotized him earlier.

“You wanted it,” you announce rather pointedly in the car. He’s backing out of the parking space now, one hand on the wheel the other pressed to the side of your seat. His jaw twitches as he tries to maneuver around a stray shopping cart someone didn’t return to the retrieval area. He’s wearing that dark jumper you like, with the high collar that covers all of last night’s bruises up wonderfully.

Jungkook scoffs as he finally gets the two of you back onto the main road, Target and the flat screen left behind. “I didn’t,�� he defends. “Just thought it was neat.”

You snort. “Neat. Okay, grandpa, did it tickle your pickle?” you tease, obnoxiously leaning over the center console to get all in his face. Jungkook greets your proximity with a palm against your forehead.

“Please don’t ever say that again,” he laughs, pulling to a stop at the next red light. He turns to level you with an easygoing grin, sparkly anime girl eyes extra shiny under the red glow. “Only want you to tickle my pickle.”

You gag. “That’s actually disgusting.”

——

You graduate on a Saturday and your dorm stay expires on the Tuesday that follows. You spend the entire day shoving all your belongings into a variety of trash bags, from your weighted blanket to the collection candles you and Doyeon swore to light every night and never did. Speaking of Doyeon, she cries through the entire process. From the moment you take down the first wall decoration she’s in tears, and not even her mom, who’s come to help out, can quell her emotions. The girl cries and cries. She cries throughout the clean up, like she hadn’t spent the week before cursing the funky aircon system to hell and back. It’s probably the nostalgia that comes with leaving college, you assume. When Jungkook picks you up around noon, even your eyes are glassy.

Jungkook’s mom, who you only just met a few months ago, is over at his place when you arrive. You get along fairly well, in fact, you would even go as far as to claim you got along really well. You had first met her over this past spring break when Jungkook invited you along to his family trip to some tropical island. The Jeons were lovely people. In fact, had Jungkook not explicitly introduced them as his parents, you would’ve thought they were some sitcom actors carrying out the role of most in love, sophisticated lovers to ever exist. Yeah, they were super into each other, and you suppose it’s why Jungkook is the way he is, loves as hard as he does. The only thing that broke their attention away from each other was the sight of their precious Jungkookie bringing you to a family event.

It was hard to keep them entertained. Every second was spent worrying about your appearance, your demeanor, whether or not you looked like a devil beside their (your) angelic boy. It certainly didn’t help that Jungkook was wearing that obnoxiously floral shirt at the restaurant you went to, the first three buttons undone almost lazily. It was a look your boyfriend rarely showed, always so meticulously dressed. Of course, he had that cute boyish style of his that consisted almost exclusively of baggy pants and designer tee’s a little too plain to cost as much as they did. But even those outfits had a specific Jungkook rhythm to them— the darker tones always went with the pants that had twelve buckles on them; the long sleeves always went with the jeans. He was awfully particular about those kinds of self-set rules, and this jarring floral print did not fit any of them. It was too provocative, the black skinny jeans he’d paired with it too devious.

Maybe he knew what he was doing to you dressed so hot like this, but knowing Jungkook, you doubt he did. His parents hadn’t batted a single lash his way, eyes laser focused on your every word as you stumbled through three plates and dessert. It was a battle you fought alone, and one you barely survived.

So despite you impressing his parents, she still gives you an odd look when you enter Jungkook’s swanky townhouse with all your garbage bags of items. You promise her it’s just for the weekend, until your parents clean out your old room that they’ve filled to the brim with holiday decorations and miscellaneous objects. You’re not trying to take her baby chick out of the nest. (Yet.)

You watch TV for a couple hours, mostly her favorite soap operas on his 67 in. screen. It takes up a huge spot on the wall where it’s mounted, glossy black screen glaring back at you. Even his mom scolds him for such a huge screen, and you wonder how she’d feel about the absolute giant he ogled at the Target last week. Super angry, you think, and the image of her raging in flames while Jungkook apologizes like the momma’s boy he is makes you giggle.

She leaves a little after sunset, kissing and hugging the both of you on the doorstep like she’s going off to war and will never return. She’ll be back by the weekend, desperate to check on her baby boy, but you let her have her moment. It’s weird seeing how dramatic the Jeons are compared to how reserved Jungkook is.

You pounce on him the second she’s gone. He goes down with a muffled yelp against the sofa, hands grasping at your waist until you straddle him and begin going to town. Your fun lasts all of two minutes before the old lady novella Jungkook’s mom had been watching cuts to commercials and a loud advertisement for irritable bowel syndrome medication begins playing.

“Oh, that is so not sexy,” you whine childishly, trying to roll your hips over him again. Jungkook laughs, all low and sweet as he sits back up again.

“Give it a rest,” he says, shifting you until he’s got you hugged between those stupidly strong arms of his. His pecs feel strong and comforting beneath your cheek, and the feeling makes your tiny pouting session end earlier than usual. “Come on,” he mumbles as he manhandles you around, until your back is pressed against his chest and you’re sitting between his legs. “Let’s watch this film on Mesopotamian folklore and its overall significance to the nations it birthed after its downfall.”

——

You rarely use the key Jungkook gifted you a few months back. The majority of your visits to Jungkook’s house were either  the result of Jungkook picking you up from somewhere and bringing you back, or Jungkook inviting you over after dinner. In short, he was always with you when you arrived at his stoop.

Today you’re alone, juggling two boxes of takeout and some cheap wine in one hand as you fight to unlock his door. He hadn’t answered his phone, which leads you to believe he’s holed himself up again in that damn study. He likes to do that sometimes, lock himself away like some modern day Rapunzel until he finishes whatever project he has this time around. When he gets like this, it’s like all other body functions are forgotten, his brain zeroed in on the lines of code you barely understand.

Just as you suspect, the house is too dark when you finally break in. The hall light is off, which isn’t out of the norm, but so are the kitchen and living room lights. You pad down the hall, flicking on the light to the living room to set down your offerings onto the edge of the coffee table. There’s a scrambled pile of notes on top that seem too disorderly to disregard. You whirl around, making to head back out into the hall and down to the study, when you see it.

A good 90 inches mounted on his wall. It’s a monstrosity of a screen, devouring nearly the entire surface of the wall, from stainless end to stainless end. It’s ridiculously thin in the way all modern TVs are, but this one is even more so given the fact you hadn’t registered it in your peripheral when you walked in. It’s just barely short of a Jumbotron, the kind they have at baseball games to make sure you can see every nose hair on the pitcher.

His mom was going to kill him.

“Jungkook?” you call out slowly, inching back out into the hall with your gaze glued to the screen. Like maybe you’ve imagined this all and that isn’t the stupidly gigantic television screen Jungkook had gawked at just a few weeks ago.

There’s a soft hum down the hall, the sound slipping beneath the bottom gap in the door frame. You make a beeline for the room, oddly unsettled with the huge screen. The door gives way, exposing your boyfriend’s hunched back and the blue light from his monitors that highlights his frame. “Hi, sweetie,” you begin, inching over to him.

“Hi,” he sighs, leaning back into your touch when you step behind him. His dark eyes are weary from staring at his tablet for too long, his usual tender expression melted into one of mild irritation. “Can’t figure this out,” he says, tapping his stylus against one line of absolute nerd gibberish you don’t bother trying to decipher. Maybe another day you would have entertained him, but today you cherish this moment with him knowing it might be his last before his mom comes over and kills him.

“Sounds like break time to me!” Your proclamation makes him frown, a frustrated groan pulling itself from his lips. His head droops forward again, chin touching his chest. But there’s a hint of relief in his groan that tells you all you need to know. “Baby needs a break,” you smile, pressing a peck against the back of his head.

“You’re baby,” he tries to fight, but his limbs are so pliant under your touch that it practically means nothing. “I’m the head honcho around here.”

“Uh huh,” you appease him, finally managing to tug all that muscled body out of his seat. “And apparently that means making dumb purchases.”

“What dumb purchases? Are you talking about the cactus again?” he asks, letting you guide him back down the hall.

“Yes, Kook, the cactus you haven’t watered in three months,” you drawl sarcastically, the sad plant sitting in the kitchen a reminder of both your incompetence. “Namjoon would hate you for that.”

Not amused by the insinuation of his favorite senpai being disappointed in him, Jungkook goes to fight you on that. By then you’ve stopped at the entrance of the living room, glaring at the straight up theater screen that sits on the wall. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mimic, flopping down on the ground beside the coffee table. Jungkook doesn’t follow, choosing to sprawl himself over the couch instead. “What’s with the Jumbotron?”

He stretches his arms out, moaning something sinful at the way his bones pop. “It adds to the experience,” he says. “Movies are more enjoyable when the pictures are bigger; a tall aspect ratio and stadium seating really add to the experience.” He was such a nerd.

You snort. “The experience— Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know I was speaking to Mr. IMAX here.”

His cheeks flush a soft pink at your jab. “Don’t be mean,” he mumbles, tugging on your arm as he sits back up. You find your way onto his lap, neatly seated over one thigh like he’s the Santa Claus at the mall; not a single gray hair in sight but you’d still let him call you his hoe, hoe, hoe. Realizing there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Christmas ham, you shake those images away.

“Good thing I brought a movie,” you beam, gesturing to the pretty pink case resting over top the takeout bag.

Jungkook doesn’t even spare it a single glance as he burrows into your neck. “What? No, we’re finishing the docuseries on—“

You groan loudly to muffle the rest of his sentence. “Kook, I don’t wanna watch another episode on Stonehenge being done by aliens,” you whine, picking up the movie case to brandish in his face.

It’s admittedly the wrong move when Jungkook’s eyes roll themselves into another dimension. “Absolutely not,” he says. The case is quickly discarded off to the side as he attempts to distract you with a kiss against your cheek.

Too bad you’re evil and determined. “No! We are watching the Princess and the Pauper and that’s final,” you exclaim, scrambling for the movie before he can hurl it out the window. He catches you by the waist, your fingers just an inch away from the pink case. “Babe!” you cry, but his fingerprints are bruising their way into your skin.

“No more Barbie movies,” he begs, yanking you back onto his lap. He does so with so much force that it makes the two of you tumble to the side, your head bouncing on the cushions as he catches himself over you. “Please.”

“I hate you,” you fuss, pointedly ignoring the tiny mole beneath his lip that drove you crazy. “We’ve seen every single thing on the History Channel this week, but we can’t watch one Barbie movie?”

Jungkook sighs, dropping his head down against your shoulder. He smells good and feels even better over you, but you’re not going to stop until the Princess and the Pauper is breaking in the new Jumbotron. “It’s weird,” he huffs, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “Especially when we start getting… experimental, and I have to listen to Barbie sing in the background.”

“First of all, her name is Annaleise in this movie,” you correct, squirming beneath him to no avail. “Secondly, how do you think I feel when you’re eating me out while some old British dude narrates the creation of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon?”

Jungkook scoffs, finally letting himself snuggle completely into you. “You don’t even realize it because you’re screaming the whole way through.” That earns him a sharp tug at his ear that has him sputtering apology after apology.

“It’s boring!” you feel the need to emphasize.

Jungkook sits up with an uppity look on his face. “It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate the cinematography that comes from educational pieces,” he points out, rather presumptuously.

You shove him off of you. “I don’t care about cinnamon topography, just play the damn Barbie movie,” you hiss, swiping the movie case from the other end of the couch and pressing it to his chest. If words could hurt, yours definitely do. Jungkook crumbles against the couch, childishly stomping one sock-clad foot against the ground as you gesture toward the movie player.

He doesn’t move, and you’re about to begin another tirade against his snobby movie critiquing habits when he procures a sleek, tiny remote that you would honestly mistake for an iPhone from a distance. It has, no joke, about seven buttons max, four of which are just the up and down, left and right arrows. You let out a low whistle at that. Wow. Technology sure was advancing.

The TV turns on to some minimalistic home page, tiny widgets showing every app it has; the bottom row is dedicated almost entirely to Jungkook’s massive streaming service provider collection. After a moment of brewing in his feels, Jungkook quietly announces, “it’s on Amazon Prime.” This is news to you, being able to watch a Barbie film on a streaming service and not the old disk you scratched when you were ten. Something distinctly carnal flashes in your chest when Jungkook clicks through all the payment options without a care in the world. Oh, that was definitely going into your horny 3 am dreams.

Despite his earlier protests, you know Jungkook will soon fall into his usual movie watching habits. He settles into the couch beside you. You cuddle up next to him, enveloping him with the grip of a killer octopus choking out its prey, except Jungkook is usually the one doing the choking in this relationship. Still, it’s not close enough, and you throw your legs over his thigh. You’re practically sitting on him at this point.

You have no doubt the speakers on this thing are average; it was too thin to really pack any punch. However, that was the TV sans the Bluetooth speakers Jungkook has installed all around his house.

(You swear when the android uprising finally begins, your boyfriend will be the first one out.)

The speakers really amplify the sound. The opening sequence has your bones rattling inside your body, the loud music of the selection screen reverberating through the entire living room. It reminds you of that pounding COMING SOON clip that used to play at the beginning of DVD’s back in the day. Jungkook scrambles to lower the volume. “Sweetheart, you’re cutting off my circulation,” he wheezes afterwards.

“What? This is how we always watch movies,” you say with a frown.

“Yes, and I always end up with less oxygen than before.”

He doesn’t let you argue, which is good, because you could make a thirty five slide PowerPoint presentation on the advantages of watching movies like this. One, your boyfriend was warm. Two, your boyfriend smelt good. Three, your boyfriend’s ripped body awoke some ancient being inside of you that would not rest until his cock was halfway down your thro—

He hauls you into his lap. The angle forces you to let him go, instead met with the jarring nothingness of having his hot body ripped away. Meanwhile he gets to wrap you up in his arms, hold you like a teddy bear to his chest. “I hate this,” you huff, but the movie is already starting, the beautiful blonde Anneliese appearing on screen. You lean back against his chest, pout still evident. “This is ridiculous,” you snort, her face blown up on this jumbo screen.

“Shut up,” he says, settling in behind you. “Movie’s starting.”

Most Barbie movies you watch end up in one of two ways: either Jungkook falls asleep twenty minutes in or he stays up until the end to critique every aspect of it. With the way he’d gone soft from your early battle, you’re guessing he was going to knock out before the Princess can even meet the Pauper.

As much as you hate to admit it, the huge screen does incite quite a thrill in you. There’s something so nostalgic about watching one of your favorite childhood movies on a screen this huge. The size showcases the sheer perfection that is every single Barbie movie. You lose yourself in the movie, singing along to the opening song and growing agitated when the antagonist appears.

Jungkook says nothing, and you’re half convinced he’s taken his first preferred route and snoozed off, when his fingers twitch around your waist.

There it was.

The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack.

“Absolutely not,” you say, slapping a hand down over his before he can slip beneath the fabric of your shorts.

He lets out an indignant noise, a puff of air running along the side of your face. You ease his hands back over your stomach, taking extra care to knot your fingers with his. “We’re supposed to be breaking in your new screen,” you remind him, glancing up to catch his unimpressed expression.

He complains quietly, but he settles.

For all of twenty seconds.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, trying to act like the subtle rutting of his cock on your behind was a nuisance and not the luxury it is. “Babe, the jumbo screen… look at it.”

“Not even jumbo,” he murmurs against your ear, hot breath sending a shiver down your spine that has your toes curling. You fight to keep his hands still, but the muscles in his forearm tense, inked skin contracting as he slips them between your thighs. You suck in a sharp inhale, trying to maintain your immovable front. Jungkook sees the fortress you’ve built around yourself in the name of watching The Princess and the Pauper, and spares you no mercy with his attack. His hands massage the skin of your thighs, tiny shorts doing absolutely nothing to save you from him. “Jumbo didn’t fit.”

The back of your mind registers the fact he was apparently trying to get a TV even bigger than this. You tuck it away for later to snitch to his mom. For now, you’d very much appreciate it if he could make you cum before the two girls perform the iconic “I Am a Girl Like You” song.

His hands are so smooth, soft skin tracing over your body like you were nothing but a slab of clay ready to be molded under his touch. He abandons your thighs to creep them under your shirt, where he wastes no time tugging the cups of your bra down to fondle your breasts.

Belatedly, your stupid tongue remembers to move. “I know something jumbo that fits,” you babble, rolling your head back against his shoulder. Jungkook laughs at the utter stupidity of your sentence, and the aforementioned jumbo thing fattens against your ass, before brushing his lips against yours. The airy laughter, one of your favorite sounds in the world, is swallowed up by your greedy mouth. “Can fit in two places, actually,” you murmur when he pulls away.  His fingers massage the doughy skin of your boobs causing your back to arch slightly. “Wherever he wants it to.”

“Really,” Jungkook teases, obviously entertained by your silly dirty talk. He’s grown used to your outlandish remarks in the past few months of your relationship.

You like to believe Jungkook has fully accepted your occasional bouts of weirdness. He’s had the last few months to grow familiar with the inner workings of your mind, and even absorbed some of it into his own personality. Which is why he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by you referring to his cock as jumbo, when there were admittedly more fitting words to describe it as.

(Thick, juicy, angry, demon cock, if he really wanted to know.)

“Where do you think it should go?” he asks, the low hum of his voice snapping you out or your thoughts. There was no need to daydream about a cock that was right in front of you. His hands slow their gentle caress over you, fingers closing in on your nipples.

A sharp hiss pulls itself from your throat, chest arching as he tugs and toys with your hardened nipples. “Wh-Wherever,” you pant, reaching your own hands down back between your thighs. The phantom of his palms linger, making your hands feel sorely inadequate. “Wherever Daddy wants,” you purr, swallowing harshly when he twists a nipple.

Jungkook groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Don’t,” he sighs, hands faltering over your breasts. Eventually they drift away, settling around your waist as you slip your fingers under the front of your bottoms.

“Why?” you laugh, pointer finger brushing along your clit. “Don’t like it when I call you that, Daddy?”

He lifts his head to watch you play with yourself. His hands grow tight around your waist, labored breath filling the air to harmonize with your breathy moans. You’re absolutely soaking your panties, sticky arousal making the fabric stick to your folds. “You know I do,” he murmurs, watching the outline of your knuckles through the fabric of your shorts. “Thought you wanted to play nice today.” He takes in a sharp inhale when you ease your finger into yourself, a breathy moan escaping from your lips.

You were already so wet, and you’re really not surprised this is how the two of you would break in his new IMAX, high definition flatscreen. Your pussy tightens around your finger, thigh muscles jumping at the intrusion. Fuck, you needed him so bad.

You smirk, drawing your hands out from their hiding spot. The television is the only thing lighting the room, the two of you shrouded in relative darkness. At first, your hand is shadowed by the glow of the screen, nothing more than an outline. But when you turn it just right, the light catches, highlighting the glistening skin of your fingers. It makes Jungkook shudder.

Ever so slowly, you bring your fingers up to his face. The tip of your middle finger runs teasingly against his plump lower lip, his shaky exhales sending a cool breath over your knuckles. “Open, Daddy,” you encourage, watching with rapt attention as he envelopes your fingers between his lips. He sucks, tongue dancing between each digit to slurp off your juices. “Do I taste good? Do you like it?”

You know he loves it, but it never hurts to ask.

Between the two of you, you each had your own share of distinctive interests when it came to sex. Kinks, if you will. You adored the softer, vanilla aspects of sex— the languid makeouts, the slow rutting against his thigh, the whispered praise, the cute pet names. Meanwhile, despite his initially reserved exterior, Jungkook preferred the other end of the spectrum. (You should’ve known from the get go!) He loved it fast and hard, so hard it would make you cry. He liked watching you squirm and beg for his cock while he pushed you to new heights. He liked the sticky, sweaty sex that left you feeling like a used rag beneath him, something you would have never expected given his neat and kind nature.

However, as with all things Jungkook, you always came first. Jungkook’s dream sex style was often pushed to the side in favor of pleasuring you. So quick and rough sex was more of a rare, once in a blue moon, type of luxury. Up until recently, sex had been mostly what you wanted. Either way you did things, Jungkook was fine as long as he got to hold you close.

It was only a few weeks ago that you discovered your shared daddy kink, him obsessed with the idea of shoving you around, something he would otherwise never do. You, on the other hand, found a pleasant satisfaction from being good for him, a stark contrast from your usual sharp tongue and nonexistent filter.

You pull your fingers from his mouth, the sleek drip of your arousal replaced with his saliva. Jungkook grunts as he hauls you further onto his lap, swollen cock nudging itself between your cheeks. “You know I love it, baby,” he growls against your ear. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Have you had your fun now?” he asks, tracing the pads of his fingers around your nipple teasingly.

“Mhm,” you moan. Jungkook’s hands decide they’re done toying with your tits, drifting back down to their original target between your shorts. “Want Daddy to fuck me now.”

He places a kiss against the side of your neck, right over the vein that runs beneath the skin. Jungkook kisses and nips down your skin, until his hair is tickling your collarbones as he sucks a hickey against the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Is that the right way to ask for something?” he purrs, rubbing your cunt over your shorts.

It’s nowhere near as fulfilling as it would be without the garments. Nonetheless, it makes you ache for him, thighs quivering at the simple touch like you’re a bumbling virgin being touched for the first time. You’re nowhere near that, but every time with Jungkook was exhilarating enough to the point it felt like it was.

“Pretty please,” you pant, covering his hand with yours.

Jungkook rewards you with a fluttery kiss against your shoulder. “Good girl,” he hums. He finally gives you what you want, bypassing the fabric of your shorts and panties to dip his fingers between your folds. You gasp, hips jumping at the sudden brush of his hands along your quivering folds.

“Inside please,” you whimper, knees moving back and forth, only stopping when he helps you out of your bottoms. He places his free hand on one of them, stilling your writhing to fully focus on pleasing the burning fire inside of you. “Jungkook—“

A slap against your cunt that makes you squeal. “Ah ah,” he warns, voice a low tenor against your skin. If you focus hard enough, you can feel the faint brush of a smirk against your neck. “We’re playing a different game right now, pretty girl.”

On screen, your favorite childhood movie is bearing witness to the sinful acts at your boyfriend’s hands. It shouldn’t be surprising how easily you fall into his arms, onto his lap, especially with your history of movie watching with Jungkook.

From your very first date you were enamored with him; the dip of his Cupid’s bow, so innocent and cute, embodied every single aspect of his personality. He was the sweetest, softest boy, one your brain could never conjure in a thousand years. Jungkook’s level of care was hard to come by nowadays; he was a gentleman through and through.

These days he was growing out of that mature persona, and you like to think it’s thanks to you. Your wildness rubbed off on him, made him confident enough to geek out in public, or be adventurous in private. It helped nourish his impulsivity, which led to things like the Super Bowl Jumbotron watching you fuck now.

Despite knowing all this, knowing the way he is, the slow grind against your ass sends a thrill of arousal up your limbs, sensations converging just beneath your mound. “Yes, Daddy,” you mewl accordingly.

Pleased with your obedience, he rewards you by circling your throbbing clit with his thumb. It’s a terribly slow motion, pad of his finger easing over your engorged bud every other second. You wanted more, needed more. You squirm beneath him, attempting to push your clit against his palm. Your efforts are in vain when he clamps a hand down on your waist. “Sit still,” he growls.

You whimper. “Need more,” you rasp out. Your whole body is acting out now, shifting and turning as you try to wiggle closer. Your mouth brushes against his jawline. The sharp angle is the first thing your muddled thoughts focus on, lips hungrily latching onto his porcelain skin to suck a purple blossom onto it.

Any other day Jungkook would bask in the attention, let you bruise his skin up until he was violet from love.

Today... well.

You were playing a different game.

The hand that had been exploring your nether regions suddenly snaps up, catching your chin between his fingers. The wetness that has coated his digits smears messily across your skin, and you whimper when he squishes your cheeks beneath his fingers.

“No ‘please’?” he huffs, turning your head to meet his eyes.

Dark chocolate eyes you’ve come to associate with love and adoration stare back at you unimpressed. His pronounced brow bone twitches, like he’s holding the true intensity of his glare back for your own sake. He slots his mouth against yours with no warning, tongue pushing its way past your lips. It’s messy, his tongue licking into your mouth like you’re nothing but a lollipop for him to suck on. It pulls a surprised moan from your lips that he swallows quickly enough, biting down on your lower lip harshly. When he pulls away, he’s got that same bored look on his face. You feel small under such a cold look, shoulders scrunching up damn near your ears in a subtle attempt to hide from him.

The action makes Jungkook scoff as he leans away from you. He leaves you on his lap alone, like a tiny island desperate to join the main land. You shuffle around in a hurry, looping your arms around his neck in a last ditch effort to calm him down. It does nothing for Jungkook, who only prods his tongue along his cheek as he regards you with a calculating gaze.

After a moment, he finally says, “on your knees.”

Your heart falls out of your chest. “Huh?” you whisper hoarsely, wide eyes taking in his unimpressed expression. “Knees? But Daddy,” you whine, lower lip quivering as you glance down at the hardwood floor.

Anywhere else you wouldn’t have minded. In fact, anywhere else you would’ve been on the floor before the sentence even left his mouth. You loved sucking his dick almost as much as he loved eating you out. However your knees were embarrassingly frail against hard flooring, which is why most blowjobs had been administered in the comfort of his bed or the couch. Sometimes on carpeted surfaces, but Jungkook never pushed when he knew you would be aching the whole time.

Which is why his current demand has you standing stiff. “O-On the floor?” you murmur.

The stark truth was that Jungkook had you terribly spoiled. His constant pampering had convinced you you were invincible. His love was practically handed to you on a silver plate, cloth napkin folded like a crane beside it. He had never made you do something you didn’t like, and he had never put you in an uncomfortable position, mentally or physically.

Until now.

Jungkook gestures for the ground with a curt nod. “Is there a problem?” he inquires.

You look back again, eye the dark wood planks beneath you, glossed over enough to make them shine even in this weak light. “No,” you belatedly respond, slowly pushing yourself off his lap and onto your feet. Your big shirt falls back down, covers the tops of your thighs as you stand nude from the waist down. You’re tempted to just yank it down even more, hide beneath the cloth so he doesn’t have to see you whine and bitch about your knees aching.

Jungkook was so cool. He was so suave and composed. He was the opposite of you, which is why the two of you meshed so well together. You’ve thought about it about ten times tonight, but it was true. Despite all that, there were times his mature exterior made you feel small— small and silly. Like now, with him sitting against the sofa, dark eyes tracing up your legs in amusement.

You sink to the ground, very pointedly avoiding his gaze. The wooden slats are cold and hard beneath your knees, your kneecap immediately screaming in discomfort. Jungkook leans forward with his elbows on his knees, messy curls covering half of his face. “You know,” he hums, reaching out to trail his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I kinda like having you like this,” he admits, “below me like the good little girl you are.”

Your breath stutters as it leaves your lungs, fidgeting hands tugging at the front hem of your shirt in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up. Jungkook smirks at the movement, eventually retracting his hand to give you one, condescending pat on the head.

A hearty sigh escapes his lips as he settles back onto the couch cushions. “Keep me entertained, will you?” You gawk, but you know it’s not a question. He reaches over for the remote to turn the volume up on the Barbie movie.

Your favorite song on the entire soundtrack is playing, almost mocking you as you shuffle closer to him. Two hands tentatively placed on his thighs as the two animated maidens flounce around the screen. He doesn’t bat a single lash your way, eyes focused on the huge screen behind you instead.

His sweatpants give away easily, elastic band snapping away from hips. You have to fight that and his boxers down, Jungkook sitting like an immovable boulder in front of you. You barely manage to free his cock— the same jumbo cock you had referred to earlier —and it almost slaps you across the face from the force of its recoil. Your breath catches in your throat, a short-lived squeal as you flinch at the movement.

The sound causes him to look your way, over the bridge of his nose. “Do you mind?” he says scornfully. “I’m trying to watch a movie.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, quickly grasping his cock between your fist.

But apparently you’re doing everything wrong tonight. Jungkook hisses. “Shit— would it kill you to lick it first? Like you’re trying to start a damn fire on my cock,” he mumbles, head lolling back to watch the screen again.

You move in slower this time, careful to lick your palm before trying to grab him. When you do, it’s even more delayed, fingers hesitantly tightening around his swollen member. You’re trying to gauge his reaction, worried eyes flickering up to him every few seconds. Jungkook doesn’t object, craning his neck to the side to crack a joint there. With his clearance you carry on.

The strokes are slow at first, hand barely reaching over his tip like he likes. You’re weirdly anxious you’ll mess up for him, make him look at you with contempt. You suppose it’s because of the game you’re playing that you’re on edge. Usually, Jungkook adheres to your rules, soft as they may be, and he never pushes where you don’t want. Tonight, it’s like you’re a show dog desperate to impress her owner. In short, you were his bitch.

You loved it.

As much as you wanted to be good for him, the mere thought of your normally sweet-hearted boyfriend glaring down at you does something to you, makes your pussy clench.

It’ll haunt you for weeks. The image of such unimpressed eyes leveled your way because you couldn’t handle his dick will stain the insides of your eyelids. Even though he’ll brush it off, kiss you and tell you it’s fine, the inner conceited hoe in you will never let it go, will recall the memory every time your hand is under your panties.

Still, you’re terribly desperate to impress him. He was your other half, your lover, your sweetheart, your goddamn king; he deserved only the best— not some half-assed, scaredy-cat blowjob that would leave him reeling back afterwards.

With that belief and a sticky blob of spit later, you’re pushing him into your throat. It’s the first reaction you get since he’d started feeling you up, a deep, raspy groan straight from the pits of hell, that has you working even harder to swallow his cock down. “That’s it,” he pants, carding his fingers through your hair. “Good girl.”

You positively mewl under the praise, tongue growing heavy in your mouth as you swallow more and more of him down. The hard tip of his cock pulses inside, rubbing against your palate and then your throat. A gag catches in your throat, one you quickly subdue by shifting your hips.

Fuck, he was so big. Just the feeling of his cock brashly rubbing against the corners of your lips has you fantasizing about how he’ll undoubtedly stretch your pussy apart later. You moan, letting your eyes flutter shut as you try to wave those images away.

When his cock hits the back of your throat, you’re ten chapters deep into an erotic novel all about sucking Jungkook‘s dick. If your eyes weren’t already shut you’re certain they’d be at the back of your head anyway. It twitches against your tongue, one thick bead of precum sliding down your throat.

It seems to be the final straw for Jungkook, who clamps a hand down on the back of your head, forcefully pulling you away only to shove you down again. With his grip in your hair, he really goes to town. You whimper at his brutal movements, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every harsh tug of your hair. The slippery, wet glide of his cock against your mouth fills the room with a lewd squelching that drowns out the movie.

Your pussy quivers with each new intrusion, thighs pressing together as if that will quell the searing ache between them. It doesn’t, and when Jungkook finally bursts in your mouth, creamy cum splattering against your tongue and lips, it only grows.

“Fuck,” he growls, pushing you away as he sinks back into the cushions. His chest heaves beneath the material of his t-shirt, sweat dripping down from his hairline. Normally, you’d take this opportunity to crawl back onto his lap, lick and kiss away at his body while he recovered. But truthfully, you were both still new to this whole experience so there were still the occasional lulls between actions.

Sensing your uncertainty, Jungkook tugs you onto his lap. He presses one soft kiss against your cheek, eyes momentarily losing their hard edge to assure you everything is fine. You give him a tiny nod, as if assuring him you’re okay. He presses his mouth to yours, plush lips soothing over your raw lips. It’s brief, the kiss; he guides you through it but switches back quickly. He pulls away and bites down harshly on the side of your neck. “So perfect for me, pretty girl,” he murmurs, soothing his bite over with a swipe of his tongue.

You dissolve into a mushy puddle on his lap, muscles growing weak from his touch. Jungkook kisses down your neck, over your t-shirt clad chest, before he’s nudging you back down onto the cushions. With him looming over you, your body instinctively has you spreading your legs apart. His t-shirt comes up with one yank over his shoulders, sinewy muscles coming into view.

“Yum,” you whisper, hands reaching up to trail over his v-line. They’re quickly slapped away, a startled gasp pulled from your lips as Jungkook takes your wrists in his hands.

One shapely brow is raised in your direction. “Did I say you could touch?” he murmurs, pinning your hands above your head. A gasp catches in your throat from his close proximity. You subconsciously tilt your head up, try to brush your mouth against his, only to be denied with a subtle turn of his face. “How do you want it, pretty?” he asks, releasing the tight grip around your wrists.

Immediately, you latch around his broad shoulders, fingers tracing over the muscles of his arms until they meet at the base of his neck. “However you want,” you purr, pulling him closer until your bodies are aligned, the warm heat of his frame over yours. You kiss the spot beneath his ear once before he trails his lips down.

Jungkook mouths against your shoulder, lips tracing over the juncture where it meets your neck. “Hm,” he hums, taking a tiny sliver of skin between his teeth. “And if I said I wanted it hard?”

His proposal is followed by a slow roll of his hips against your throbbing core, the same dick you had just choked on gliding along your folds. You whimper, toes curling as the pleasure washes over you. Every ridge, ever vein of his hardened cock runs along your sensitive folds, reminding you of the aching flame inside of you. “Th-That’s fine,” you pant, leg lazily thrown over his hip. His hands trail over your waist, collecting your t-shirt as they move up your body until it’s pushed over the swell of your breasts.

When the material is finally discarded off to the side, leaving you in that flimsy bra Jungkook that snaps off, he strikes again. His tongue laps over your collarbone first, pouty lips ghosting over the skin as he makes his way to your breast. He takes one hardened peak into his mouth, drawing a shaky inhale from you. He rolls it between his teeth, tongue flicking the sensitive nub as you squirm beneath him.

Eventually he pulls away with a wet pop. Jungkook smirks, a soft puff of air fanning over your newly bruised skin. “Aren’t you the prettiest little thing.” He pushes away from you with one strong arm, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Watch the movie,” he says.

You blink. “Huh?”

Before you know it, he’s tugging you back up onto your feet. He pushes you around, nearly sends you toppling over the coffee table as he positions you to his liking. “Kook!” you exclaim, palms slapping down against the glass tabletop in an effort to catch yourself. Just barely, your reflection glares back up at you.

A tap against your pussy startles you from the sight. “Wha—“

Two hands grab onto your biceps, tugging you up forcefully until your back arches, leaving you bent at a ninety degree angle before him. “Look, sweetheart,” he coos against your ear, voice deep enough that it vibrates through every bone in your body. Your breath stutters in your throat, exhilaration blossoming in your chest. “It’s your favorite movie.”

It is in fact your favorite movie, the same one you had fought tooth and nail just moments prior to watch. On screen, the two damsels are exploring new things in their lives, just how you were experiencing Jungkook’s true intensity for the first time. “It is,” you quietly confirm, back aching from the position.

Jungkook either doesn’t care about your depleting strength or really trusts in you not to faceplant onto his glass coffee table, palms sliding down to the crease of your elbows to hold you. “Tell me what it’s about,” he says

Just as the words leave his mouth, something hard and wet prods against your folds. “Oh,” you cry, fists tightening into balls as the feeling overwhelms you. “Jungkook, please.”

One elbow is let go, and the abrupt release has you scrambling to catch yourself, your glass reflection coming a little too close. This becomes even more difficult when a hand suddenly strikes down hard against your ass, a startled yelp escaping you. Just as quickly as you were released, Jungkook wastes no time snatching your back up, yanking you back until your cunt runs along his cock again.

“C’mon, pretty, thought you knew better,” he sighs playfully.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, chest heaving with every slow roll of his hips. Your pussy was sopping, desperate to be filled with something. It was even worse knowing his dick was right there, just inches outside of where you need him most. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you repeat.

Jungkook chuckles, and your heart backflips when he finally begins lining himself up. “It’s okay,” he assures you, in that same gentle tone he uses when you accidentally shove the wrong food down the sink disposal. “Baby’s still learning,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss against your shoulder as he begins pushing himself in. Just the head of his cock proves to be a struggle, swollen tip stretching your entrance wide. There’s an extra sting today from your half-hearted preparation, the both of you relying solely on your own arousal and excitement to let him in. It’s a nice kick.

When he finally pops past that initial tightness, you swear you could transcend into another dimension from the absolute feeling of euphoria that washes over you. “Fuck,” you mewl, fighting against his tight hold. Your efforts are in vain, ultimately choosing to drop your head down as the ecstasy continues to wash over you with each inch he offers you.

A warning squeeze around your wrist. “Language,” Jungkook reprimands, though his voice is strained and light.

You nod mindlessly, toes curling against the wooden floor. “It-It feels so good,” you whine. Your knees wobble dangerously beneath you, until you’re swaying just the slightest bit.

He gives until there’s nothing left, the soft hairs around his dick tickling your lips as he reaches the hilt. “There we go,” he grunts, giving you one final tug to make sure this is as far as he can go. You squeal, the brush against your walls making you ridiculously high. “That’s my girl.”

The praise has your stomach tightening, the pretty images flashing across the screen completely lost on you. You felt so full. The two of you rarely did it like this, without looking at each other straight on, but there was something about Jungkook’s looming figure being distorted by your brain’s memory, his touches wild and unpredictable, that made something inside of you twitch.

“Ohhh,” you whimper, muscles going slack for the briefest moment. The only thing that saves you from falling over is the killer grip on your forearms; when he tugs you up his cock runs along your pulsing walls. “Please, Daddy,” you beg, mouth feeling a thousand times heavier.

“The movie,” he repeats, slowly beginning to pull away from your clenching heat. You moan. “Tell me what it’s about,” he husks, punctuating his seemingly innocent statement with a harsh snap of his hips.

You wail, stumbling forward at the intensity. Still, it’s just a taste of what he has in store for you. He soon picks a pace, not too rushed or slow, as you struggle to keep your eyes open. “I-I don’t know,” you choke out, the images flashing across the gigantic screen practically unrecognizable to your muddled thoughts.

Behind you Jungkook tuts at your incompetence, thrusting forward with an intensity that would have sent you flying if not for the grip he has on you. “You don’t know?” he huffs, tugging your elbows back again as if to secure his grip on you.

His hips are moving fast now, every piston into your warm heat making you tremble. “Fffuck,” you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues ramming his cock into your pulsing hole. You’re met with a harsh yank that pulls you snugly onto his cock, your entire body screaming at the way he nudges against your cervix. Despite the pleasure it gives you, Jungkook seems anything but pleased.

“C’mon,” he huffs, twisting your arms painfully behind your back. “What did we say about that dirty mouth?” His question is followed with a snap of his hips that makes you choke on your spit. “Need you to be good for me, baby,” he groans.

“I-I am good,” you weakly defend, head hanging down limply as you fight to regain some semblance of your senses. But everything feels too much, from the rough push of his hips to the tight grip on your arms. His cock pulls out nearly all the way each time, swollen tip the only thing stopping him. Every thrust makes you quiver, every touch makes you melt.

You suppose he’d been too lenient on you up until now, and that final claim makes him snap. Jungkook scoffs, ramming his dick inside of you. “You’re being fucking terrible right now, doll,” he admits, hammering into you like a crazed man. You sob, the coil in your belly tightening with every brutal shove of his cock. It’s something about the way his composure withers away, all sweetness melting off as he thrusts into your cunt. “I’ve asked you twice now what the damn movie was about, and you didn’t answer either time.”

A hand clamps around your throat suddenly, yanking you up right until his breath fans across your ear. You’re not sure when your eyes had become so teary, but the images flickering across the screen are a foggy mess you couldn’t decipher even if you tried. “__,” he rasps against your ear, his voice scratchy. “Tell me. Now.”

You whimper as he shoves his way back inside, the angry head of his cock testing you. “T-Two girls, one’s a princess,” you cry, knees wobbling as the feeling in your core grows. “They look alike, and-and…”

“And?” Jungkook asks as you trail off, his words followed by a particularly brutal surge of his hips. His cock glides against your walls easily despite the way you clench around him.

“A-And they have problems they wanna avoid,” you stammer, the plot slipping in and out of your mind with every roll of his cock into your core. “So-so they swap places.”

Behind you, Jungkook snorts. “What a stupid fucking movie,” he says meanly, before he begins to piston his cock into you. You’re trembling by now, your orgasm looming over your head with each thrust.

Before you can warn him, the thin string holding you together snaps, the sudden flood of relief making your knees buck dangerously. Jungkook barely has enough time to catch you around the waist, holding you against him as a litany of curses and his name come spewing out of your mouth. “No, no,” you wail, your entire body twitching as the orgasm rolls over you. “Kook— Jungkook!”

“I’ve got you,” he reassures you, fingers holding you tight around the waist. The coffee table you had feared cracking your skull on finally comes to use as you press your hands onto the surface in a feeble attempt to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, faintly aware of the rock hard cock between your pulsing walls, probably drenched in your cum now. “I-I didn’t—“

He shushes you quickly, settling the two of you back onto the couch. Funnily enough, he doesn’t bother pulling you off of him, his dick snug inside your cunt as he seats you on his lap. “You’re alright, sweetheart,” he comforts, hands soothingly running up your sides. You want to protest, want to get back on your knees and give him another chance to cum all over your face, but Jungkook nudges your chin with a knuckle. “Watch your movie,” he croons.

The Princess and the Pauper is literally the last thing on your mind right now; didn’t he realize how much you wanted to please him? Why was he choosing now to be so stubborn? Oh, that Jeon Jungkook, maybe Doyeon was right to call him an airhead.

Your slander campaign against your boyfriend is cut short when a hand flutters over your mound, thumb idly tracing over your sensitive clit. Before you can turn and look at him, Jungkook is rutting his hips against you slowly. “The screen, baby,” he says, and you want to argue that you can’t possibly enjoy a movie with him being so sneaky beneath you. The words get washed away when he presses down on your clit.

“Koo— Daddy,” you whine, lower lips still trembling from the orgasm you had two minutes ago. Jungkook responds with a kiss against your shoulder, hands trailing around your waist.

“No more of that,” he mumbles as he begins bouncing you on his cock. You moan, every inhale cut short by the shallow thrusts of his cock into your delicate walls. “Just your Kook now.”

“My… Kook,” you pant dreamily. Your cum provides an even better lubricant than before, lewd squelches filling the area alongside your cries as Jungkook chases both your second orgasms.

“Mhmm,” he groans, jostling you over his lap with no rhythm whatsoever. “Yours, baby.” You stretch your hands back, carding one set of fingers through the hair above his ear, pushing the strands away from his face. “Just like you’re mine.”

Something inside of you tightens painfully, and you’re not sure if it’s your heart or your pussy. You guess it’s both, as you stutter out, “y-your pretty girl?” Jungkook hums in agreement, repeating your favorite nickname back to you. The rest of your words die out between the two of you, lost in the slow and soft movements that fill in. You want to tell him you love him, adore him like no other, but every breath of air is stolen away by him.

Eventually the two of your are cumming, your second orgasms much quieter and slower compared to your first. You still mewl, wither against him when you cream his cock, and Jungkook catches you all the same. He guides you through the fog with kisses against your jaw, your dripping pussy helping him through his own.

When all is said and done and you’re both basking in a post-orgasmic make-out, you realize how sweaty and icky you are. “Ugh, this is gross,” you pout as he wiggles you off his lap. He pushes you beside him, letting you flop over the length of the couch as he reaches for something to clean you up with.

“You’re gross,” he retorts softly, blinking in that slow, drawn out way he does when you know he’s sleepy. His t-shirt runs along your neck, collecting the sweat there.

You nudge him with your foot. “I’m not the one who wanted to fuck during a Barbie movie,” you scoff, pinching the skin on his forearm when his gaze lingers a second too long on your creamy pussy. “Look somewhere else, weirdo.”

Jungkook laughs quietly, looking at you with an adoring expression on his face. He doesn’t even finish cleaning you off, tossing the soiled shirt somewhere off to the side in favor of cuddling into you. “Where? My Jumbotron?” he teases, raining down a parade of kisses against your face. “Don't wanna,” he smiles, too soft and boyish for the words that leave his lips next. “Wanna lick your pretty pussy clean.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” you scold, covering your face with your palms in embarrassment. “Look at your stupid IMAX screen and leave me alone.”

He cackles loudly now, in that evil witch way it took him a while to show you, and you know he’s got that big silly grin on his face now. . “The IMAX screen? The same one that made you,” a pause, “climax?”

“Get off of me.”

——

Just as you predicted, Jungkook’s mom gives him the scolding of a lifetime when she drops by the next weekend. The poor woman nearly faints at the theater screen on the wall, only to quickly regain herself. You giggle from your spot on the couch as she whacks his stupidly ripped bicep with the leek you’re supposed to chop up for dinner later.

What you’re not expecting is for her anger to shift to you as she scolds you for letting her idiotic son make such purchases. She gets one playful thwack against your side with the leek before your charming idiotic boyfriend swoops in to save you.

——

Copyright © August 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

#goldenclosetnet #ksmutclub #networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #mine

[luvdsc]

mark lee sucks at technology.

tap the heart if you have a big, fat, embarrassing crush on your best friend!

pairing :: lee mark x reader genre :: fluff / best friend + social influencer au word count :: 5,883 words warnings :: none playlist :: dumb stuff (lany) ⋆ feeling (coin) ⋆ so far so good (gabrielle aplin) ⋆ electric love (børns) ⋆ love by mistake (bad suns) author’s note :: i was debating if i should post it on his bday instead, but i decided to drop it earlier, so uh, happy (approx. one week early) bday to mister absolutely fully capable (except when it comes to tech stuff) !!!! thank you for blessing us with your god tier raps ♡ ↳ part of the not clickbait series.

In your required upper division business course aptly titled “Essential Marketing Strategies,” you had learned about a concept called personal brands. A personal brand is explained as the first impression a person wishes to perceive based on their own experiences, qualifications, and achievements. Your professor had told you and your classmates to pick three words to define your own brand. For instance, you chose to label yourself as charismatic, fun, and creative.

Your best friend’s brand would be awkward, endearing, and technologically challenged. 

Okay, so that is definitely more than three words, but who’s counting? You might as well tack on “Y/N’s big fat crush” at this rate because everyone and their mother knows that you carry a torch—or more accurately, a blazing wildfire that can easily be spotted from Pluto—for your best friend.

Well, to be more precise, you should probably say everyone, except Mark, knows. And that’s not for lack of trying either. You completely dropped the art of delicate subtlety months ago already. Maybe you should add “hopelessly oblivious” instead.

The rolling end credits to the sixth Harry Potter film are playing on the screen in front of you, signaling the nearing end of your magical movie marathon. You’re seated on the worn down couch in Mark and Donghyuck’s shared apartment, watching the former make his drink with the fancy, gently used Keurig newly settled on the scratched countertop. Johnny dropped it off a few days ago because he had splurged on a better coffee machine (“It even makes Instagram worthy whipped frappuccinos!”) and didn’t want his old, but still perfectly functioning caffeine provider going to waste.

“What’s wrong with this thing?” Mark slaps the side of the machine, and it starts to emit a low whirring noise. “Oh, that’s good, right? That sound is good, you think?”

His question is immediately answered by the sad squirt of hot water speckled with coffee grinds falling into his mug for a few seconds before the machine shuts off.

“What the hell?” he mutters angrily, carding his hand through his hair in frustration, and you finally decide to take pity on your best friend. Getting up from the comfy spot you know you sadly won’t be able to recreate perfectly again later, you stride over to where your best friend stands and flip open the top of the Keurig.

“Hyuck didn’t take out his used coffee pod,” you say, pulling out the incriminating evidence of your best friend’s roommate and disposing it in the trash can next to the refrigerator. “Where’s the espresso one you’re gonna use? Why didn’t you put that in?”

His jaw slackens, and he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze and mumbling, “I thought I’d just open it later and pour it into my hot water.”

“Mark,” you start, placing your hands on his shoulders firmly and staring into his eyes with a serious look on your face. “Please know that I’m saying this in the most loving way possible, but you are an absolute idiot.”

You release your grip on his shoulders and grab the espresso pod dangling from his fingertips before slotting it into the Keurig. You remove the mug he placed underneath the spout and wash out the accidental coffee water before placing it back in its original position and pressing the start button on the machine. With a sigh, you lean against the side of the counter, glancing at your friend who looks like a child being scolded for stealing from the cookie jar.

“If you pour the pod into your mug, are you just going to chug all the loose coffee grinds, too?”

“... I didn’t think that far ahead.” His lips start to unintentionally form a tiny pout, and your eyes (and your heart, too) soften.

You’re very relieved that Donghyuck is off filming with your friend because he definitely would be making fun of your heart eyes that frequently make an appearance around a certain Mark Lee. Which you always deny. Because you certainly do not have a gigantic crush on your technologically inept best friend.

You glance over at him again and have to physically fight yourself to resist the urge to kiss his cute pout away. Okay, so maybe you harbor a very respectable, medium sized crush. But it's no big deal. It’s completely under control. Unless you’re counting the fact that your best friend is still unaware, and you’re running out of ideas to try and see if he likes you back before you actually shoot your shot. Then it’s very much not under control because you’re losing sleep over it and you don’t know what to do to be any more obvious without stating the, well, obvious.

“Well, now you know. If you forget, you can FaceTime me and I’ll give you instructions on how it works.” You pat his shoulder reassuringly before pausing. “Wait, you do know how to FaceTime, right?”

“Yes!” he exclaims, sulking even more before confessing in a quieter, defeated tone, “Hyuck showed me last month.”

Mark grabs his finished drink and follows behind you, settling back onto the couch next to you. The streaming service already has Deathly Hallows Part 1 in the queue and ready to go, and your best friend is ready to click play until he notices your attention being focused on the smaller screen in your hands. He wonders if you’re about to post another one of your popular cooking videos on that app that shares a name with the most iconic song of the 2000s (hint: the name of the song’s singer is made up of four letters and a dollar sign).

“Are you uploading one of your videos?” he implores before taking a sip of his drink with a satisfied smile. Somehow, it always tastes better when you make it, and he can’t figure out why for the life of him. When he went to Johnny’s place, his older friend uses the exact same pod and water ratio for his espresso, and yet, it’s never as good as yours.

“Nah, I’m ordering my grocery delivery before I forget. Do you want anything?” You select the option to load your usual grocery items into your cart before debating on whether or not you should splurge on buying several packages of those seasonal Pillsbury sugar cookies that only come in stock during certain holidays. It seems like such an insult to the entire premise of your Tiktok account based on baking and cooking, but you’re an absolute sucker for those soft pastries.

“Yeah, can you get me a Shin Ramyun ten pack? Hyuck ate the last one two days ago and didn’t tell me.”

“You sure you don’t want ten boxes again?” You decide to get those Pillsbury sugary delights, happily adding three boxes to your cart. Everybody has a weakness, and yours just so happens to be a premade one way ticket to diabetes. You’re here for a good, delicious time, not a long time.

“No! That was an accident!” He objects, flailing his hands around, before falling back against the couch cushions in defeat. “But Hyuck does all the online grocery shopping now.”

“Thank god. You guys finally have quality toilet paper again.”

The past month of bathroom occurrences was plagued with scratchy tissue that felt more like goddamn sandpaper from the horrible depths of hell. To be honest, you probably would have rather used actual sandpaper, given the choice. You even made sure not to drink too much water any time you came over, but today, you decided to splurge on a venti passion fruit iced tea with sweetener from that very popular franchise sporting a mermaid logo and fiscally cosmic name. To your pleasant surprise, your trip to the toilet this time was wonderfully padded with Charmin Ultra Soft, not that absolutely awful off brand one with the gross texture of a dried pinecone from inferno.

“Hey, that toilet paper was a good steal! It was a three for one deal,” Mark protests, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Wow, I wonder why it was priced so low.” You deadpan, and Mark blanches, recalling all those restroom incidents that were rather rough. Literally.

“Anyway, do you think my viewers wanna see me make chocolate crinkle cookies or mochi doughnuts?” You bring up the two recipes you managed to perfect and add your own spin to on your phone, eyes scanning the ingredient lists.

“Both. And tell me when you’re making them, so I can come over and eat them.” He gives you a wide grin, and you let out a snort at that. His smile only grows as he says happily, “I love your job.”

“You only love it because you can freeload off of me,” you jest, but nevertheless begin to start to add all the ingredients for both recipes to your shopping cart. You always film cooking videos on Tuesdays, edit on Wednesdays, keep Thursdays free for last minute touch ups and emergencies, and post one every week on Fridays with other various random videos uploaded whenever in between. With that in mind, you schedule your upcoming grocery delivery for Monday.

“Hey, you need me. I’m the best taste tester.” He puffs up his chest proudly before hastily tacking on a more genuine reason. “And because I’d starve without you. I can’t live off of instant ramen and frozen chicken nuggets forever. Gordon Ramsay already confirmed my shitty cooking skills. I need you to survive.”

“Oh my god, when I uploaded those pics of your scrambled eggs on Twitter, I lost like a hundred followers in less than a minute.” You confirm the delivery and place your phone on the coffee table, picking up the opened bag of Cheeto puffs before settling back in your seat. “My cooking credibility was completely shot. I had to explain to my fans that I didn’t make those.”

“Yeah, but now everyone calls me Eggy Boi online!” he whines, and you laugh. You have to admit, it’s quite a funny play on the whole “edgy boi” terminology. You wonder if Mark will find it amusing if he discovers his roommate is the culprit behind his new online persona (He probably won’t, and you reckon Donghyuck enjoys living in a safe space where he doesn’t have to sleep with one eye open, so you stay quiet about it. You’ll use it as leverage some other time).

“Okay, Eggy Boi, come by on Tuesday because I’ll be baking in the afternoon,” you say casually, grabbing the remote control from your best friend and pressing play. 

You very narrowly avoid a green gummy bear to the face. It lands somewhere behind the couch, lost forever to the dust bunnies and other snacks that missed its target. You know for a fact that it’ll stay there until the boys decide to move to a new apartment. Mark grumbles at the miss, biting off the head of a red cherry flavored gummy bear perhaps a little harder than necessary.

“I hate you. But I’m still coming over next week because I want a doughnut.”

“No cookie?”

“... and a cookie. Maybe two.”

Wednesday comes faster than you expected, and you’re currently holed up in your apartment’s second bedroom—which you had transformed into a snazzy office space—completing the edits to your second video on mochi doughnuts. You already finished polishing the one about the cookies earlier, thank goodness. If you had to stare at your computer screen for another three hours, you would rather eat those pastries Mark tried to make two months ago, but had mistaken salt for sugar. Adding a cup of salt to any baked good is an extremely effective way to make anyone who tasted your best friend’s brownies experience a trip to the beach. Because they essentially just swallowed a mouthful of sand and ocean water. Because it’s salty as heck. Just like Mark was when you told him.

Speaking of your best friend, he’s currently puttering around in your kitchen doing god knows what. He knows better than to try another recipe and possibly blow up your number one moneymaker—your prized oven—in the process. Your heart nearly drops when your ears pick up the faint chopping sounds of a knife against your wooden cutting board. Is he going to try to temper chocolate again? He nearly burned through your entire stock of dark, milk, and white chocolate last time.

After much contemplation and deciding that you deserve a good procrastination break and a fully intact kitchen, you’re about to go out and see what he’s up to when Mark timidly appears in your doorway, clutching onto a white bowl of watermelon cubes with a fork tucked neatly in it. He shuffles in, dropping the snack on your desk before turning to walk out without a word, not wanting to disturb your work mode. 

Your heart warms up at the sight, and you speak up, a small smile slipping into your face. “What’s this for?”

“Knowing you, you probably haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.” He pauses in the doorway and adds on sheepishly, “And I can't cook anything, so this is what you get.”

Your heart swells tenfold, and your smile widens even more as you spear a piece of fruit with the fork and quickly pop it into your mouth. “Thanks, Marky.”

His cheeks flush with a pretty shade of carmine, and he fails to suppress the little giddy smile that appears on his face at your nickname for him. He walks out of your office, reddened cheeks still rising up higher than ever. “Y-Yeah, of course. No problem.”

By the time you finish adding the final few touches to your edited video, the bowl of watermelon has been picked clean. You save your video and transfer both of your completed projects to your phone, making a mental note to schedule their uploads and add them to your account’s posting queue later. Shoving your phone in the pocket of your sweats after ensuring the successful transfer of your videos, you pick up the empty dish and walk out towards the kitchen, the silver fork clinking against the side of the bowl with every step.

As you wash the dish and utensil, Mark wanders over from his spot on the couch, leaning forward and casually placing his chin on your shoulder. Almost instantaneously, you feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you briefly fantasize about your best friend wrapping his arms around your waist and how domestic and sweet the two of you would look, like one of those cheesy couples the two of you always made fun of.

“What’s up?” you ask, making a conscious effort to hold your voice steady and not waver over the fact that Mark is basically draped over you. After you place the dish on the drying rack, you turn around to face your best friend, sorely miscalculating the distance as mere inches separate your face from his now.

“I—” Puberty decides to make an ugly appearance in the form of an ill timed voice crack, and he internally curses as he takes a step back, willing the incoming blush to go away. Letting out a small cough, he tries again, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“I, um, Jisung sent me some kind of dance video. He said it’s a challenge? I kinda don’t know what to do with it? Like do I make a new dance, record myself, and send it back? Actually, isn't it easier to just do a dance battle face to face?”

“Can I see the video?” You already have a good idea on what the video will be, but you want to confirm it. Mark fumbles with his phone, pulling up the video in his text messages. He angles the phone towards you for you to see, and you grab his hand, bringing the device a little closer to you for a better look and clicking play.

“Oh, it’s a Tiktok challenge! He’s doing the Say So dance!” you exclaim, recognizing the song almost immediately as your eyes follow the fluid dance moves, completely enthralled. “So a challenge isn’t going up against someone, like a battle. It’s just some kind of trend or concept that you try to copy yourself. You’re supposed to learn the same dance and record yourself for this one. I can show you some other challenges and help you practice and record this one tomorrow if you wanna drop by after work!”

“O-Oh, okay, sounds good.” Mark stumbles over his words, attempting to focus on what you’re saying and the dance Jisung is doing, but all he can think about is the way your body is pressed against his side, hand comfortably wrapped around his. He freezes up as the tips of his ears grow redder and redder with every passing second, and his face sports a similar color. He silently prays for the telltale crimson to go away by the time the dance is over.

When the video ends, you once again realize the close proximity between you and your best friend. Your face burns at this revelation, and you awkwardly take a step back. Clearing your throat, you hastily release Mark’s hand (He inaudibly lets out the breath he’s been holding in this entire time, yet he also already misses the way your hand felt grasping his).

“Uh, anyway, I’m gonna make a latte. Do you want a drink, too?” You walk towards the other side of your kitchen with Mark trailing behind you. You take out a floral, peachy colored mug from your cupboards before pausing and looking at your best friend. “Wait, do you remember how to use a Keurig?”

“Yes!” He says, slightly exasperated as he picks out his own cup from your cabinet. He always uses the same one—a cerulean blue mug with squiggles all over it—and all of your friends and guests know not to use it because it’s unofficially officially Mark’s mug (And perhaps, you did indeed buy it from that overpriced kitschy tableware shop down the street two years ago with your best friend in mind).

“Really?” You select the latte option and press start after you had already positioned the mug beneath the spout and inserted a green tea matcha pod. He finally relents, shoulders sagging and a defeated expression on his face.

“... No.”

You chuckle, taking the mug from him and carefully putting it on the counter. You grab the espresso pod you know he likes from the drawer below and place it next to the cup. “It’s okay, I’ll teach you again.”

Mark tries. He really does. He tries very hard to concentrate on memorizing the simple process, but he keeps getting distracted. His eyes are focused on the correct button to push before they start to trail up to your fingertips. And then, they go from your hand to your arm, then up to the elegant curve of your neck, and finally, to the way your lashes frame your pretty eyes and how the tip of your tongue sticks out slightly as you concentrate until all he can focus on is you, you, you.

Suddenly, in what feels like a blink of an eye, you’re done and handing him his finished drink, complete with a perfectly whipped milk foam on top. You ask him if he knows how to make it now, and all he can do is lie and nod with a barely convincing smile.

After all, how can Mark tell his best friend that the reason he never remembers is because you’re the biggest distraction?

Mark should be here in five minutes, according to his most recent text message. And in the text message below that, your friend had sent you a challenge. More specifically, it’s the one she completed with Donghyuck a few weeks ago. When you said you wanted bold suggestions on how to figure out if your best friend feels the same way about you as you do about him, you didn’t want one this bold. 

Yet, the video link to your friend’s “today I kissed my best friend” challenge along with a winky face from her is staring mockingly at you. While you aren’t one to back down from a challenge, the mere thought of kissing your best friend causes vast colonies of butterflies to erupt in your stomach and your ears to feel as if they have caught on fire. You’re already tongue tied with your head in the clouds, and he isn’t even here yet. How utterly fantastic.

However, your mother definitely did not raise a quitter, so you spring into action when you hear the faint jingling of a key being inserted into your apartment’s door (You had given Mark a copy of your key almost immediately after you had moved in). You move the pretty indoor fern given to you by Jaemin as a housewarming gift last year closer to the edge of your towering bookcase, leaning your phone against it. You quickly position the device to capture a good view of the couch area in your living room and press the record button, arranging a few of the leaves to hide as much of your phone as you possibly can without obstructing the lens.

You run full speed to your bedroom, letting out a sigh of relief when you’re safely inside and hear Mark finally unlocking the door successfully and shuffling in. When he calls out to you, you try to even out your breathing, walking out of your room with your tripod and laptop in hand.

“Hey,” you greet him in the most casual tone you can muster. You place the tripod down and sit before opening your laptop and setting it on the coffee table. “I thought we could watch a few challenges for fun before trying the Say So one. Have you watched Jisung’s videos before?”

“Um, well, no, not really,” he confesses sheepishly, taking a seat next to you on the couch, leg pressing against yours. He squints at the YouTube video you pulled up earlier before he had arrived, reading the title before clicking the space button to start it. “Savage Tiktok dance compilation part two?”

“Wait, hold up.” You pause the video and then turn to face him with an incredulous expression on your face. “You’ve never watched any of Jisung’s dance Tiktoks?”

“No… I don’t even have an account.” His cheeks are dusted with the lightest shade of pink as he quietly admits, “I watch all of yours though.”

Your eyes widen at his confession, face heating up as you stammer out, “O-Oh, well, I can help you make an account later to upload your video.”

“Sounds good.” There’s a few seconds of silence as you mull over his previous words before he speaks up again awkwardly, “Should I, uh, play the video?”

“Oh! Yes, right! Of course, hit play,” you laugh nervously, twisting and playing with the hair tie around your wrist. He starts the video again, and the two of you watch the compilation, slowly relaxing once more as you tap your fingers to the rhythm of the song and he bobs his head to the beat.

“Do I have to change outfits like that?” he questions a few minutes later, eyes growing round as he sees the girl on the screen switch between four different outfits throughout the dance. His closet basically consists of the same five black shirts that he stole from Jaehyun. Even if he did do an outfit swap, there would literally be no difference at all.

“You don’t have to,” you assure him, clicking the enter key to play the next video that’s recommended: another Tiktok dance challenge compilation. “All you have to do is copy the dance.”

Mark nods, taking a glance at the laptop screen before his hand shoots out and he pauses the video, leaning forward to take a closer look at the little recommended video title banner at the top. “Wait! What’s that one?”

He clicks on it, the new video now loading up. The two of you wait patiently for it to begin, waiting for the spinning disc to stop. But it doesn’t. In fact, the whole chrome page goes blank and then, the little pixelated Google Chrome dinosaur pops up on your monitor, announcing that you have no internet connection. Furrowing your eyebrows, you try to reload the page before trying to re-establish your laptop connection to your wifi. Unfortunately, you cannot find your appropriately named “drop it like it’s hotspot” wifi anywhere to connect to.

And that’s when it hits you. Your landlord had sent out a notice to the entire apartment complex last week about the electricity being powered down today from 4 to 6 p.m. for a maintenance check, and a quick glance at the digital clock on your laptop shows that it’s a little past four.

You groan, closing your laptop and flopping back against the couch cushions dramatically. Mark cocks his head, slightly confused, before he pokes you in the arm. “What’s wrong?”

“I completely forgot about the scheduled electricity shutdown for the entire building. We won’t have any wifi for the next two hours.” You pout, your bottom lip jutting out in the slightest, and Mark doesn’t think it’s fair that you get to be this cute and have this much of an effect on his racing heart rate.

“That’s okay, we can… play some board games?” he suggests offhandedly, pushing away the embarrassing thought and nudging your leg with his, and you smile before a sudden idea occurs to you. 

“Or we can still do some Tiktok challenges! What was the challenge you clicked on?” You quickly sit upright, turning to face your best friend, eyes sparkling in excitement. “I memorized a few of the dance ones already! Was it Renegade? I can teach you that one. Jisung showed me how to do it.”

“Um,” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. His eyes dart everywhere, except you, as he lets out a feigned cough. “It wasn’t a dance one. It was about, uh, going up to your boyfriend… and um, hugging him... when he’s playing video games.”

“Oh.” You answer lamely, not knowing what to say. You unsuccessfully try to push away the image of you attempting that challenge with your best friend. “Those are really cute.”

“Really?” He says doubtfully, wrinkling his eyebrows and fiddling with the frayed sleeve of his sweater. “Wouldn’t the dude get mad?”

You don’t know what suddenly possessed you to do this (you’ll have to ask Renjun and his paranormal loving ass later), but you thank whatever demon did for that split second because you find yourself gently grabbing Mark’s arm and slipping your head underneath it. You swing one leg over his lap and settle down until you’re securely sitting in his lap, bent legs on either side of his hips, hands curled around the soft fabric of his sweater on both sides and resting on top of your thighs. His arms instinctively go around your waist, wrapping around you securely.

You tilt your head to the side slightly, studying the flustered boy in front of you with a teasing, albeit a little anxious, smile on your lips. “Are you feeling mad?”

Splotches of red litter his cheeks and decorate the tips of his ears, but your best friend furiously shakes his head at your question, bashfully ducking his head afterwards and muttering a soft “No.”

You swallow hard, heart pounding erratically in your chest as you timidly ask, “Would you be mad if I do this?”

Mark looks up at that, confusion written all over his face. His arms start to loosen around your figure, hands now resting on your waist. “If you do what?”

You take a deep breath. “This.”

You lean in and gently press your lips against his. Mark freezes in shock, and you quickly retreat soon after, gnawing at the inside of your cheek as you wait anxiously for his reaction. Your heart feels like it’s about to fall out of your chest and be buried six feet under.

A tiny noise of surprise belatedly escapes from him and crimson spreads across his cheeks like wildfire. His doe eyes are wide and sparkling, staring at you in bewilderment. Your best friend lets out a small laugh of disbelief before a full blown smile breaks out across his face. He gazes at you adoringly, breathing out softly, “I’m not mad at that.”

You perk up at that, draping your arms around his neck as you lean forward, beaming. “Really? You’re not?”

“Definitely not.”

This time, Mark meets you halfway, his lips slotting against yours perfectly and making you feel tingles up and down your spine. Your eyes are closed, and you are so hyper aware of the way his hands grip your hips, how he tugs you closer, and how his lips chase after yours. The number of butterflies from earlier multiply in your stomach, and you have ascended past cloud nine by now.

When the two of you break apart, your eyes flutter open, and you nudge your nose against his affectionately. The brightest grin blooms on his face once again, and he buries his face in the crook of your neck, muffling his little giggles and hiding the awfully vibrant cerise that rapidly blossoms on his face.

“Is this a good time to tell you congrats for completing your first challenge?” you say, resting your cheek against the crown of his head. You pull away when he lifts his head up, surprised.

“I wasn’t playing video games though,” he says slowly, processing your words and thinking back to the challenge that started this all.

“It was a different challenge. It’s the one that Hyuck did a few weeks ago,” you confess, and realization dawns on him, his face lighting up for a split second before a look of horror takes over.

“Oh, no. Is that why you had your phone recording on the bookshelf?” Mark asks, dread beginning to cloud his mind.

“Yes…” you say slowly, a little perplexed. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Oh my god, I ruined your video,” he moans, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder. “I saw your phone when I walked in and thought you were filming earlier and forgot to turn it off, so I turned it off for you.”

When the words finally register in your mind, you can’t stop the laughter from bubbling out of your throat, and he raises his head up to look at you with wide doe eyes at the pretty sound. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to!”

You can’t stop laughing at the situation, and he looks at you worriedly, gnawing on his bottom lip slightly. You force yourself to calm down, a soft chuckle leaving your lips before you beam at him, leaning in and placing the softest kiss on the tip of his nose. “It’s okay, Mark. I’m not mad. That video wasn’t important anyway.”

“But still,” he whines before letting out a groan and slapping his hand against his forehead when the realization sinks in even further. “I’m such an idiot.”

“But you’re my idiot now, right?” you say teasingly, albeit a little shyly as well, as you reach over to tug his hand away from his face and lace your fingers with his.

“I mean, I kinda thought I was always your idiot,” Mark laughs softly and a little embarrassedly, eyes averted and cheeks turning pinker than ever. The largest grin spreads across your face at that, and you turn away slightly to hide it. You didn’t think your best friend can possibly be any more endearing, but he manages to prove you wrong every time.

“Well, then now you can add ‘Y/N’s boyfriend’ to your resume,” you say, and he fails to suppress the pleased smile appearing on his face at your remark, his rosy cheeks rising even taller than skyscrapers.

“So, uh, what sort of job description does that have?” He gazes at your intertwined hands in wonder, still completely giddy at the reality of you being his best friend and something more.

“Sharing hoodies, giving me attention, kissing, holding my hand, going on dates, you know, the basics,” you answer, squeezing his hand tenderly, and his doe eyes instantly light up. Mark feels a little bolder than before, and it shows when he grins widely and says:

“Can we do number three again?”

“Yes, we can, Eggy Boi.”

He wrinkles his nose at the name, disgruntled and unimpressed, as he crosses his arms over his chest, sulking. You let out a laugh before leaning in and crashing your lips against his. He immediately relents at that, enthusiastically responding and hugging you closer to him, and you can’t help but smile into the kiss as you feel his own smile appear as well.

At that moment, you decide that you want to change Mark’s personal brand. Because his should be “absolutely wonderful, positively amazing, a cute kisser, your boyfriend, and your bestest friend.” And yes, that is most definitely more than the allotted three words, but again, who’s really counting?

Certainly not you when you’re too preoccupied with kissing your best friend. Correction: best friend and new boyfriend.

One new notification: donutkillmyvibe uploaded a new video!

moominjun commented:

so you’re saying the reason why we didn’t get the highly anticipated best friend challenge video is because @ marklyrawr turned the camera off?

donutkillmyvibe replied: yes 😔 I’m sorry to disappoint everyone 🤧

nanaislove replied: omg no bby it’s ok 🥺🥺💞💓💓💝💗 you didn’t have to make an apology video for that 🥺💗💓💘💖

goofys.chuckle replied: yeah it’s mark’s fault. he’s the disappointment here 🥴

morklyrawr replied: hahahahaha stfu hyuck

tytrack commented:

mark is going through puberty. I apologize

dobunny replied: @.@

goofys.chuckle commented:

are we getting whip(ped)lash pt 2 by eggy boi?

morklyrawr replied: YOU’RE THE ONE WHO STARTED THAT NAME?????

goofys.chuckle replied: uh gotta blast 🚀

showmethemonet replied: @ goofys.chuckle does this mean you’re staying over again?

goofys.chuckle replied: @ showmethemonet yes if you want your super cute, mega talented, very handsome boyfriend to still be alive 🥺

showmethemonet replied: @ goofys.chuckle oh my god I didn’t know I was dating bts jin???

moominjun replied: LMFAOOOOO

goofys.chuckle replied: heart 💔 been broke 📉 so many times ⏰ i don’t know 🤔 what to believe 💯 mama 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 said 🗣 it’s my fault 😢 it’s my fault 🤦🏻‍♂️i wear my heart ❤️ on my sleeve 💪 i think it’s best 👍🏻 I put my heart ❤️ on ice 🧊

jenojam commented:

why am I not surprised……

itsmebetch replied: just mark thingz 🍉

suhprisemf commented:

mark your head looks flat af

jungjaeprince replied: 😂😂😂

10vely replied: @ jungjaeprince be quiet don’t cry

letswonwon commented:

whoop whoop

junguwu commented:

OMG CONGRATS ON YOUR RELATIONSHIP SWEETIE 😍😍

takoyaki_prince commented:

MARK!!!!! you look handsome !! 😘

jisungpwark commented:

rip to @ donutkillmyvibe ’s future videos that mark will ruin. press f in the chat to pay respects 🙏🏻

bigheadking replied: F ✊🏻😔

peachyangel replied: f 🥺🥺

yoitslucas replied: F 🤪🤪🤪 but glad you’re happy, man ❤️

donutkillmyvibe replied: F 💔

morklyrawr replied: @ donutkillmyvibe wtf babe????

officialgordonramsay commented:

didn’t i tell you to get back on tinder ?

apado_god commented:

nice 😎👍🏻

#nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct fluff #mark scenarios #mark imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #mark x reader #mark fluff #nct dream fanfic #mark fanfic #nct angst #nct scenario #mark lee imagines #mark lee #lee minhyung #mark #nct dream #nct 127 #nct

[ptergwen]

the best gifts are unexpected

w/c: 1.6k

summary: you sort of end up with two secret santa’s this year

a/n: this is another random idea i had that i actually really love? plus it’s a christmas one and christmas is this week which is insane wow :/ happy reading y’all

━━━ ☆彡*. ｡

“ok, who wants to go first?” betty asks the group and shakes her present around.

everyone agreed to do secret santa at your mini christmas party. it was ned’s idea, which is why you’re all in a circle on his living room carpet with mystery boxes in front of you. you picked names out of a beanie mj was wearing so it would be fair. all you know is that you’re peter’s secret santa. the rest surprisingly stayed secret.

it’s a surprise because some people in the group are terrible at keeping things to themselves.

flash holds his gift bag up in the air before anyone else can answer. “me!” he quickly pulls the wrapped box out and starts ripping the paper off. betty watches on with a proud smile. she tries to cover her mouth, but you already saw. that crosses one pairing off the list. flash gasps when he sees what it is.

she got him a spider-man pop figure. it’s one of his newest suits, too. peter will definitely be blushing if you look over at him right now.

“this is so sick! he’s gonna go under my pillow.” flash grins and taps the clear spot that shows him. “why, so you can say you slept with spider-man?” mj snorts at her own joke. she’s next to you, so you elbow her side. she winces and shoots you a glare. peter smiles to himself.

“no, so he can keep me safe at night,” flash says a little too seriously. the circle goes quiet for long enough to be awkward. he puts the box behind him with an eye roll. “whatever. who had me?” betty raises her hand, beaming at her success. flash nods. “nice. thanks.” “you’re very welcome,” she says in a sing song voice.

you can feel someone’s eyes on you. you turn your head, and it happens to be peter’s. he shifts his attention back to ned the second you make eye contact. that’s odd. then again, peter is always odd.

next is ned since you’re going in order. he’s excited to open up the cardboard box until he realizes there’s nothing in it. his face scrunches in confusion. he ends up picks something up and squinting at it.

“it’s a... piece of paper?” he eyes everyone suspiciously. “turn it over, buddy,” mj says under her breath. ned hears her and does. grinning, he holds the paper to his heart. “no way! this is, like, all i ever need!” “what is it?” you furrow your eyebrows with a small smile.

“a subscription to disney plus!” you direct your smile to mj. you’re impressed. she shrugs and pulls a knee up to her chest. “dude, they have so much star wars stuff on there,” peter chimes in. ned gives his best friend a knowing look. “can you sleep over?” “nerds,” mj mumbles to you. “let them have their moment,” you defend.

betty goes after ned. she’s probably the happiest of all of you to open her gift. she texted everyone her wishlist at least three times, so it has to be something good. based on the way she squeals, it is. it’s this new eyeshadow palette from sephora she’s been wanting.

“oh my god, shut up! i love it!” she carefully puts it down and bounces up on her knees. “whoever got me this, i have to give you a hug.” peter is the one who opens up his arms. she scoots over to him on her knees, practically tackling him. he chuckles and hugs her back. “thank you so much, peter!” “of course.”

you try to laugh along with everyone else, but something stops you. it’s a green monster, and not the grinch. you’re jealous. mj just has to pick up on it. she pats your back, a smirk pulling at her lips. “relax, mrs. parker. it’s nothing.” scowling, you scoot away from her. “don’t call me that.”

“your turn, y/n,” betty chirps, sitting back down next to you. you unenthusiastically sit your heavy present in your lap. everyone watches you slowly peel the wrapping paper off, mj fake yawning. “take your time,” flash comments. “guys, come on,” peter says for you.

you perk up when your gift is finally open. you’d always thought it would be cool to have a record player. no one ever got you one before because you “didn’t need it.” apparently, the music sounds the same as it would in your earbuds. you can actually find out if that’s true now.

plus, you have something else to do during break. lots of record shopping.

“wait, seriously?” you pout at the group and set the record player down in front of you. “i’ve wanted one of these for so long. thank you.” “i got you.” ned smiles and reaches over betty to give you a fist bump. mj goes next.

she gets a book that goes inside the criminal mind from flash. he says his search history probably got him on a few watchlists.

peter is last to open his present from you. you’ve been anxious for him to open it since you added it to your cart. anxious in a good way because you’re positive he’ll like it. he’ll hopefully like you also.

he already knows you’re his secret santa since the rest of the group went. mj scoots back so you can see him while he opens it. you catch a wink from her. peter grins at the bow you put on it and sticks it on his shirt for now. you watch his whole face light up as he finishes unwrapping it.

he’s kind of amazing at photography. he takes it as an elective and practices whenever he has time. you’ve even done little photoshoots on his phone for fun. midtown lets him use a camera with pretty good quality and all the important functions. but, peter’s style is more vintage.

that’s why you got him a polaroid camera. some film for it, too.

“woah, y/n.” peter looks from the box to you. “this is so awesome. it’s a lot cooler than anything i have,” he breathes out a laugh, licking his lips. “i think it’s... my favorite present.” “ever?” you laugh. “ever,” he confirms, reaching for your hand. your heart is thumping in your ears. he squeezes your hand in his. it earns an “aw” from ned and betty in unison.

“thank you isn’t even enough. you have no idea,” peter says for only you to hear. you squeeze his hand back with a small smile. “yes it is. take some good pictures for me.” “i will,” he agrees after a few seconds. something is on his mind. mj moves up again before you can ask what it is, which also makes you drop his hand.

“dessert time,” she announces and rubs her hands together. she’s oblivious to the look of disappointment on your face. flash points at her. “someone get those sugar cookies.” “i’ll go,” ned volunteers, about to stand. peter shoots up from his spot instead. “no, i can do it. you pick a movie to watch later.”

he nudges your shoulder. “y/n, could you help me?” ned makes a face at him. “you know, we need plates and everything,” peter quickly covers up. it’s a good enough explanation for him to focus on logging into disney plus. you take the hint and get to your feet. “yeah, let’s go.”

you follow peter into the kitchen, everyone else giving ned movie suggestions. peter checks behind him to make sure no one is looking. he relaxes after that and leans back against the counter. you stand next to him, closer than usual. he’s not mad about that.

“i feel like we’ve barely talked all night,” peter murmurs and stares down at his feet. you press your lips together. “that’s cuz we haven’t.” “let’s fix that.” he taps your foot with his playfully, getting a laugh out of you. “hey.” “hi,” you say back. “thanks again for the camera. i can’t wait to set it up.” the smile is clear in his voice.

“i’m really happy you like it. i thought you would,” you admit, leaning into him slightly. he welcomes it. “i, uh, actually got a little something for you,” he starts and reaches behind him. your heart is beating out of control again. so is his, but you don’t know that. “aw, peter. you did?”

“it’s... it’s kinda stupid. i’m not sure you even want it-“ “i’ll take anything if it’s from you,” you cut off the rambling he’s about to do. he nods and pulls whatever it is out of his pocket. it goes from behind his back to over your heads. you look up and see mistletoe.

peter moves so he’s in front of you. his face is only inches from yours now, your eyes landing on his lips. he takes the same hand he was holding earlier, lacing your fingers together. “can i kiss you?” he checks, his voice soft. you wind an arm around his neck. “please.”

he presses his lips to yours so lightly, your eyes fluttering shut. it’s so sweet and so long overdue. you tug him closer so the kiss deepens. leaning his head forward, he drops the mistletoe and wraps his other arm around your waist. you’re back against the counter with him hovering over you.

your lips move easily against each other’s like it’s natural for you.

“peter and y/n, what’s taking so-“ mj turns her head and sees you two kissing. “oh, okay!” she cheers, betty glancing curiously. “get it, y/n!” ned and flash join in next. they all holler at you while you kiss. it becomes too funny, and you have to pull away so you can both laugh.

giggling, you bring one of your hands down to the bow peter left on his shirt. you pull on it. “i think you’re my favorite present.” “ever?” he repeats what you said earlier and nudges your nose. his lips brush yours in the process. “ever.”

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #tom holland fic #tom holland imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker smut #peter parker fic

[pumpkinpaix]

this is gonna sound so harsh but im legit tired of chinese diaspora people who think that bc they are of chinese descent and they have pleco they can act like voices of authority in the fandom. if modao is the 1st chinese book you have read pieces of with a dictionary, if you have never interacted with the actual chinese fandom, you are not part of the intended audience and your biased opinion is not the One And Only Valid Truth 🍵

strongly agree | agree | neutral | disagree | strongly disagree | this is really hard for me to express in terms of an agree/disagree axis lol

genuinely cannot tell if you’re trying to shade me here anon lmao 😂

this got long and rambly (of course) asldkjfslj. i would love to make the excuse that it’s bc i’ve got a migraine and had No Sleep but. let’s be real i’m always like this.

ok i’ll start with where i agree: i don’t think anyone has the right to act like an ultimate voice of authority in fandom. i think different people with different backgrounds have varying realms of expertise and they should be respected when they share that knowledge, but that the instant someone starts to use that kind of power as a weapon against people they personally don’t like, i think they forfeit that privilege. no one has the one and only valid truth about a piece of media because that’s fundamentally impossible. i have definitely interacted with diaspo who behave like their heritage gives them some kind of incontrovertible authority over everyone else, and they’re fucking insufferable and often rather cruel, even/especially towards other diaspo. meet me in the denny’s parking lot and fight me for real. i’ll kick ur ass. >:c

however, I also think it’s true that there’s a lot of dismissal of heritage fans in this fandom, if that makes sense, from both sides of the equation: non-Chinese fans ignore our cultural hangups because they’re inconvenient, and non-diaspora disdain us for being not Chinese enough. that puts a lot of us in a position of feeling disrespected just for being who we are, or having our very real knowledge and unique experience as individuals devalued because of it.

regardless of my identity, I have formally studied a lot of things: literary translation, media analysis, the politics of oppression, film critique, religious studies, philosophy, four foreign languages etc. and that is all knowledge that I had to work for, and work hard for. I do have a certain measure of authority on all of these subjects over a layperson (to varying degrees), and there are going to be times when i will be more correct than someone who disagrees with me -- but I’ve also absolutely experienced people talking over that specialized knowledge because of who I am, which is, to be clear. extremely infuriating and hurtful. like, i have cried so much about it in the last 18 months. people see my racial and cultural identity before they see anything else, which is understandable to a degree, but upsetting when it becomes the basis for how my work is judged, whether positive or negative. i don’t want you to trust me blindly because i’m abc. I want to you to trust me because you have examined my work critically and judged it to be trustworthy!

so i guess this is getting into the strongly disagree part of the answer: i’ve been speaking a lot with other diaspora fans lately, and it’s been simultaneously hugely relieving and also really saddening. relieving because oh thank god someone else Gets It, and saddening because pretty much all of us, no matter what kind of diaspo we are (north american, european, SEA, taiwanese etc), we’ve all experienced a lot of pressure in this fandom, from non-Chinese, Chinese, and other diaspora fans alike. we’re all acutely aware that we are not modao’s intended audience because being diaspora vs being “from the mainland” or whatever, are actually quite different things, but modao still feels close to home. even if it was not written FOR us it is still familiar to us.

and, because so many of us are multilingual and multicultural, we end up being the bridge between the “actual” chinese fandom and the english-speaking fandom, which is largely made up of non-chinese. (sidenote: I hate it when people say things about being “actually” any identity because it’s almost always for the exact reason you brought up: to use heritage as street cred. it’s like damn, being “actually” chinese doesn’t make ur opinions any less rank. sure you might be “actually” chinese, but do you have basic reading comprehension and literary criticism skills? no? ok then sit your ass back down) many of us are most comfortable in english! so we produce our content in english! but we also DO often have a somewhat privileged access to the culture that underlies mdzs and can explain it in a language that other non-Chinese fans can understand. so it’s not surprising that people flock to us for answers to their cultural questions. and like. if we think we know the answer, it’s natural for us to try and help. this is fandom! we’re here to have fun and find community! and it is definitely a little bit nice to have my culture treated as something desirable for once instead of just like. a weird exotic curiosity that no one really cares too deeply about. and, since a lot of us are able to do things that non-Chinese fans can’t (research in chinese, for example. ask family members for help and more information etc.) we end up just having more information to share.

I think this sometimes results in a tendency for fandom at large to put heritage/diaspo fans on pedestals and tout them as authorities (or use our conflicting viewpoints as ammunition in fandom drama) when the diaspo in question have repeatedly stated that they should not be taken as authorities on something -- and then, once you reach critical mass, your reputation starts to precede you, and I think there’s a lot of misconceptions of how a lot of diaspo act in this fandom simply because of that phenomenon. most of us know that we’re not ultimate arbiters of some kind of cultural gateway, and it can be very tiring both to be treated as such when we insist we are not, and then punished by other people who assume that we acted like we were.

i don’t think there’s a benefit in trying to keep en fandom and cn fandom totally separate, and I also think it’s unfair to consider the cn fandom the “real” fandom. i think that way lies deeper misunderstandings, gatekeeping, etc. i think we can definitely acknowledge the differences between them, but i think trying to make meaningful connections between fandom circles is really valuable! i don’t think i’ve ever made it a secret that modao is my first cmedia fandom? so it’s also the first time i’ve had reason to interact with chinese fandom, which has been super enlightening and interesting! i’ve made some super cool friends and learned a lot about how fandom works in china, how it’s similar and how it differs from the fandom i’m familiar with.

and then, kind of circling back around, there’s also a bit of a sense like, okay, so if diaspo don’t belong in the CN fandom, but we can’t talk about our own culture with some degree of confidence in EN fandom, then like..... where do we go...? if we see EN fandom doing something that contradicts our cultural knowledge, do we just. not say anything? do we not count unless we’ve already ingratiated ourselves to CN fandom? that’s probably where the core of my strong disagreement comes from, because criticism of diaspora fans as like, acting above their station so to speak, feels just like a tired continuation of the same shit we’ve had to deal with for our whole lives, being told we’re not good enough for anywhere and that we should just be quiet and keep our heads down and get over it. that our opinions, despite coming from a unique perspective with a unique relationship to the subject in question, are less valid or real than “actual” chinese people, you know? and sometimes i see that and im like lmfao just sneer at me for being jook-sing and leave then if you’re so eager to think of me as lesser.

so yeah, basically im of a few minds: true! diaspora fans don’t get to throw their weight around just because they’re diaspo. they don’t get carte blanche to act like bullies or try to shape the fandom to their own personal liking and crusade against people who disagree with them. they don’t get to pretend their heritage makes them superior to everyone else, and i think western diaspora especially need to be careful when asserting any kind of moral lens over the text to acknowledge that we have our own biases to interrogate. i am not immune.meme etc. on the other hand, this vein of criticism tends to put all diaspo in a bit of a double-bind, and also, however unintentionally, plays into the general, continuous trend of dismissing diaspora for being diaspora, and i’m really not about that. i don’t think that’s the motivation behind opinions like this, but i do think that when the basis for the argument hinges on the idea that diaspora are not “real” chinese, no matter how much I too have beef with certain diaspora fans, the argument needs to be revisited. 

(ko-fi)

🍵 ((un)popular) opinions meme

#Anonymous #asks and replies #cyan gets too deep in the weeds #race #chinese diaspora #statistically average #mine #mymeta #mdzs #ummmmm #politics #?? #opinions meme #ask meme

[blainesebastian]

i don’t get sick (ccg universe)

words: 2,439 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (anon request): austin tending to sick reader  notes: part of the coffee cart girl universe but can be read alone :)  warnings: none tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff

How you’ve gone from delivering coffees on set to watching on the sidelines as people actually act out the lines you’ve written in a script sometimes just goes right over your head. Like you’re aware that this was obviously the end goal, this creational transfer, to see your words actually brought to life in a scene. It’s surreal and incredible and you’re also attempting not to look a gift-horse in the mouth because you’re aware that it could all go downhill at any moment. You’re not asking for the film to be some sort of blockbuster box-office success but…you’d like your parents to see it, Austin too? You’re going to be proud of it no matter how well it does because you’ve earned that.

But at the same time? You also want it to have every opportunity to be perfect…which is why you’re not sure if the lead actor is going to work for you.

You literally cannot believe you’re thinking about this again.

You’ve already run Austin down the very long conversational road on how when you were there with the casting director during auditions, everyone felt like they had found the perfect cast for the roles. But…the longer you watch this lead work with your script, the more you feel as if they’ve made some sort of mistake. You’re trying to give a little grace; Austin suggests you speak more with the actor and director on how to hone the character in your script but…something just doesn’t feel right.

Are you overreacting? Are you being too much of a perfectionist? There’s this headache pinching its way to your temples, a pounding in your ears as you pace slowly in front of your couch where Austin is. He’s sprawled out on the cushions, your cat on his lap, watching you walk back and forth as he pets between the feline’s ears,

“I mean, I feel like I’m losing my mind,” You continue, running a hand over your face. “I dunno what to do—it’s too late to get another lead, I mean, we’ve been shooting scenes Austin. So I’m just supposed to what,” You stop pacing and look down at him, gesturing with your hand, “grit my teeth and bare it?”

Austin takes a short breath in through his nose, “Look, first I just want you to stop puttin’ a hole in the floor.”

You look down at your feet and roll your eyes but there’s a hint of a smile tugging your lips. Fine, you’ll stop pacing.

“Second—trust the casting director and yourself. You obviously saw somethin’ in this actor when you saw him audition right? That’s how he got the part. Maybe there’s some sorta disconnect goin’ on now. He’ll get it.”

Sighing you nod your head a little—you know Austin is right. Maybe you’re just overdoing it? Once again so concerned with something to be perfect, no mistakes, that you can’t even enjoy the process. Just because things don’t feel right yet doesn’t mean they won’t ever be. You know that this lead role isn’t as consuming as what Austin had to do for Elvis but, in context, that was two years of his life that he had to settle in. Maybe this actor for your script just needs a little time to find where he fits.

“Y/N,” Austin waits until your eyes meet his gaze, “You know how much grace to give him, alright? If it keeps feelin’ wrong, put your foot down until it’s right.”

You nod softly—right, okay, right. Gonna take it one day at a time, see where they’re at by the end of the week. That headache that was settling on your temples suddenly takes a sudden and jagged poke behind your eyes, making your draw in a sharp breath. One hand goes to your temples, rubbing at them with your thumb and middle finger.

“You gettin’ a migraine?” Austin asks, concern mapping along his voice. You can hear him stand from the couch, approaching you before putting a gentle hand on your arm.

“No,” You clear your throat, pulling your hand away, “No, I’ve had a headache for the past few days. Just comes and goes.”

He hums lightly, pushing your hair over your shoulder. His hand settles on your neck, tipping your chin back with his thumb so that you’re looking up at him. His eyebrows draw together a little as he looks you over,

“You look flushed baby.”

Opening and closing your mouth, you shake your head because you are…he is not going there. “M’all worked up.”

Austin smirks a little, thumb running along your jawline, “I’ve seen you worked up before, it’s not this.” You’re about to say something else when his hand moves to touch your forehead and you attempt to bat him away because—

“I’m not sick.” You’re just not. You have no time at all to be sick, the headache is from stress probably, not getting enough sleep or eating enough. That’s it.

“Oh so we’re gonna be stubborn?” He asks, “Shocking—that’s cute.”

You huff dramatically, pushing him away a bit with a hand on his chest even though you don’t really want him to go anywhere. Austin knows exactly what to do with his proximity and regardless that he’s annoying it works every single time. He tears down your defenses, your walls, makes you completely comfortable…which you suppose in general is never a bad thing.

But in this case? You are trying to prove a point and you are definitely not sick because you’re too busy to be. Just ain’t happening.

“I’m not being stubborn, I’m just tellin’ you like it is—you’re wrong. I don’t get sick; I have an impeccable immune system.”

Austin laughs a little, “Oh I’m wrong?” He shakes his head, planting a quick kiss to your hairline. “Alright, whatever you say.”

“That’s right whatever I say,” You mumble to yourself as he pulls back, possibly a bit petulantly. Should have just lied and said it was a migraine to have Austin help you into bed and make a cup of a tea.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you let out a long breath.

You are definitely not getting sick.

--

You wake up about an hour before your alarm and roll over in a fitful attempt to fall back asleep. The sheets are sticking to you, your body is hot, and the heat from Austin which is usually comforting is making you feel like you want to peel your skin off. Throwing the comforter back, you pull yourself from bed. The minute your feet hit the floor, you’re overwhelmed with nausea and quickly walk to the bathroom, not closing the door completely behind you. Once your feet are on the cold tile, you feel a little bit better, wiping sweat from your forehead as you glance at your very pale face in the mirror.

Oh no.

Your cheekbones are splotched pink, you’ve got chills, skin heated, slightly congested, and a ringing in your ears from the headache.

You’re sick—you cannot fucking believe this.

Groaning in miserableness, frustration and fatigue, you turn the water on to wet a washcloth to at least wash your face. You run the fabric along your hairline, cheeks and then finally wipe along the back of your neck. The door creaks open slightly and you pray it’s your cat but of course it’s Austin, leaning against the doorframe to look in on you.

“You alright?” He asks softly, tone concerned as he gives you a once over. His voice is caked with sleep, slightly gruffer in some places, dirty blonde hair mussed in a bunch of directions. You’d love nothing more than to tell him you were fine and to go back to sleep, but you already know you won’t be able to fake anything.

Sighing, you shake your head as the room starts to spin and you slowly take a seat on the closed toilet seat, “Please don’t say ‘I told you so’ when I’m dyin’.”

There’s a soft laugh from Austin as he comes into the bathroom, crouching in front of you. “I wouldn’t do that—I’ll at least wait until you’re feelin’ better.”

You smile despite how terrible you feel, shaking your head as Austin pushes your hair away from your face so he can get a better look at you. He smooths some back from your forehead, leaning up to press a long kiss to your hairline.

“I think you have a fever.” He whispers, gently kissing your cheek.

You want to tell him not to bother or fuss, the last thing you want to do is to get him sick too but he doesn’t seem like he cares or that he’s going anywhere. Ironically he can be quite stubborn too…but in this case? You’re grateful.

“Let’s change your clothes, get you back into bed.” He stands up.

Sniffling, you move to take off the shirt you wore to sleep in, “I gotta go to set.”

Austin scoffs, “You are not goin’ anywhere.” His voice is firm, shaking his head as he puts the shirt in the hamper before disappearing into the bedroom. He brings back one of his sweatshirts, the black waffle-knit one that’s super soft and helps you pull it on over your head.

Crinkling your nose, “Austin, you know what I’m dealin’ with there, I have to go.”

“Yeah, all this stressing you’re doin’ is probably why you’re sick.”

You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment, feeling a wave of emotion crash right into you that you do your best to swallow down. You know he’s right but…at the same time? You can’t help but feel like some sort of failure—which you know makes no sense but…this is your first big thing, your first step into a world that you thought was closed off to you. Missing a day just feels like you’re already letting yourself down.

“Look at me,” Austin murmurs and you can tell he’s crouched down again, your eyes opening to see him eyelevel with you. “There is no shame in takin’ care of yourself, okay? You’ve worked so hard for this, staying home to get better does not somehow translate into you bein’ less.” He holds your gaze for a long moment, making you swallow over a lump in your throat,

“You understand me?”

You nod softly, sniffling, running a hand over your cheek. “You’re pretty good at 6am bathroom pep talks.”

Austin smirks, moving to wrap his arms around you, “Grab onto my neck.”

Once you do that, he hooks an arm underneath your legs and scoops you up bridal style to take you back into the bedroom. Setting you down on your side of the bed, he pulls the sheets back to help tuck you right back in.

You sigh softly, running a hand through your hair—maybe with some extra sleep you’ll bounce back in a few hours (or at least that’s the hope). Regardless, Austin promises to call in sick for you, brushing some of your hair out of your face.

“Are you leaving?” You ask, your eyes already closing.

“I’ll be here—just gonna run out and get some groceries.” But you’re asleep before you can reply.

--

The next time you wake up, you have no idea what time it is. Completely disoriented, you reach out for the bed beside you but the sheets are cold. Your head is pounding and you run a hand over your face to try and figure out which way is up. Groaning a little, you push yourself up in bed and pull the sheets back. Your head is clouded and that’s putting it kindly…you feel like your brain might actually resemble a shrink-wrapped piece of ham at this point. Blindly pushing the bedroom door open, you frown as you attempt to get your bearings and look for Austin.

You wander through the apartment, eventually finding your boyfriend in the kitchen where he’s…

“Are you making soup?”

He turns a little to look at you, a soft laugh leaving his lips. “Yeah, I told you I can cook you know.”

Pulling the sleeves down over your hands, you walk in, sniffling, looking around at the various ingredients. He really went to the store to buy things to make chicken soup from scratch—no one has ever done that for you before, other than your mom. It’s just…really thoughtful and sweet and while you know Austin is those things, somehow this is surprising to you.

“You didn’t have to do all this.” You offer him a small smile.

“I wanted to—looked like you were in on your deathbed in there.” He teases, using a large wooden spoon to stir the pot before approaching you.

You put your hand up quickly, turning away to sneeze not once but twice. Ugh. You move to grab a napkin to blow your nose, tossing it away and washing your hands. That does nothing to help the pressure in your sinuses—you thought you’d feel better with some sleep but clearly it’s going to take a few days. So annoying.

Austin reaches for you to attempt to pull you into his chest, “No, I don’t want to get you sick.” You state, even though you’re not strong enough to push him away. You fold way too easily against him, closing your eyes. The heat of his skin is comforting and you find yourself melting on the spot when he brings his hand up to massage one of your temples.

“I’ll risk it.” He presses a long kiss to your hairline, “Don’t be fallin’ apart on me, alright? If the roles were reversed you’d be tellin’ me I need to take care of myself. Same goes for you.”

He’s right—especially if something like this would have happened to him on the set of Elvis, you’d be the first person to tell him he’d need to slow down, get enough sleep, eat enough, try not to stress into making himself sick. Taking care of himself was a priority…though you have to admit it’s a lot easier to say than advice to give yourself. You tip your chin up to look at him, nodding softly,

“Seems like it might be a dealbreaker if you’re gonna make soup every time.” You tease a little and he leans down to press a kiss to the bridge of your nose.

“Stubborn,” Austin repeats, smiling a little at you, “But I love you.”

You hum, wrapping your arms around his waist to squeeze him as you utter the phrase back. You’re feeling better already.

--

Forgot I had this request on my desktop lskdfj i also somehow lost the ask it was paired with but ANYWAYS thanks for the request and thanks for reading!

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler imagine #austin butler drabble #austin butler fic #elvis 2022 #mccall writes things #ccg

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 18, second part

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff) (Previous Post)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Hey OP where’s the funny header gif for this post? Sorry, it was murdered by an angst demon and the framing of these shots.

My Found Family Came to Find Me

Continuing our flashback from last time, we see Baby Wei Ying up a tree, refusing to come down because he's afraid there are dogs. Eventually he falls out of the tree, like a dumbass a child, and Yanli tries but fails to catch him. 

Unlike his grownup counterpart, Baby Wei Ying doesn't pretend he's unhurt when he is hurt. I'd like to put the change at Yu Ziyuan's door, but actually he admits to being hurt during his Gusu summer - he mimics Lan Zhan's stoicism when they're getting beaten, but it doesn't come naturally to him, and he whines a lot afterwards. 

By the time of the Animatronic Dog incident, however, he's laughing off obvious injuries that have secret trauma behind them. By the time he comes back, coreless, from the burial mounds, he won't confide in anyone about his hurts any more, except possibly Wen Qing.

Yanli carries Wei Ying, in a sequence that will be echoed much later in his life when Lan Zhan carries him (gifset here). While they head back, she tells him that Jiang Cheng has a bad temper and to ignore whatever mean things he says. This will also be echoed in the future, when Wei Wuxian says it to Lan Zhan after their argument with Jiang Cheng in the shrine.

Yanli also explains that Jiang Cheng loved his dogs and that he's been very sad since Jiang Fengmian sent them away, demonstrating once again that Jiang Fengmian is a terrible father. Yanli says that Jiang Cheng will be happy to have a friend with him, though. This kind of makes Wei Wuxian's role in Jiang Cheng's life "replacement dog."

Jiang Cheng, after getting over this particular snit, got worried about Wei Wuxian and woke up Yanli to find him, and then went wandering around in the dark like a dumbass a child, and is banged up and crying when the other two find him. Yanli encourages him to apologize to Wei Wuxian and he does, which will not happen again until the very end of the show.  

They all smile and laugh together, as Wei Ying looks to Yanli to guide him through the insanity that his life has suddenly become. 

(more behind the cut!)

They head back to Lotus Pier in a sweet montage of walking and smiling together, with Jiang Cheng carrying the world's most beautiful candle holder with the world's most wind-resistant candle in it, to light their way back. Back in the present day for a brief moment, Jiang Cheng pretends to sleep and listens to his sister insisting that the three of them should always stay together, while a single tear rolls down the side of his face.

Soup is Love, Chapter 1 of 1000

Then we head to the past again. In Jiang Cheng & Wei Ying's now-shared room, Wei Ying sits on the bed trying to figure out how to deal with his grumpy new roommate.

Wei Ying is unsure what to do when confronted with pajama game this strong. Tiny Jiang Cheng is already a fashion king. 

Then he tells Jiang Cheng he's not going to narc him out to the clan leader, since it was his own fault that he hurt his leg. This is all Jiang Cheng needs to hear to decide Wei Ying is all right, and he says that he will help Wei Ying chase away dogs in the future.  In fact, Wei Wuxian will protect Jiang Cheng from punishment basically forever, while Jiang Cheng will continue to threaten Wei Wuxian with dogs...forever.

They shake hands on their new understanding and then jump up and down laughing, Wei Ying's leg being all better now, apparently.  When Yanli arrives (carrying a tray of...can you guess? I'll let you guess), they stop jumping. Wei Ying dives in to give Jiang Cheng a little tickle/embrace in an adorable moment that would have me saying "oh, my ovaries!" if I hadn't surgically sent my ovaries to hell a few years ago.

Yanli introduces Wei Ying to the emotional and gustatorial miracle that is her lotus and ribs soup. He hesitates a long time before tucking in because he's so unused to being fed.

Consent? I Don’t Even Know Her

The flashback wraps up with Yanli conked out on the table from the drugs in the incense burner, while Wei Wuxian, who is somehow unaffected despite sitting almost as close to the smoke as she was, checks on her. Jiang Cheng and his Uggs period-appropriate sock thingies get out of bed to come stand with Wei Wuxian, and have feelings about sending Yanli away after she JUST said she doesn't want to be parted from them.

Wei Wuxian: If she didn't want us to do this, she shouldn't have signed that blanket consent-to-medical-treatment form.   Jiang Cheng: Wen Qing made me sign one of those plus a durable power of attorney, is that bad?

This episode is all about people overriding each others' agency and making massively important decisions without the consent of the people who will be affected. But in a feudal context, it's not a violation, no matter how it feels to the person being controlled. In feudal life, your body belongs to your lord -- your sect leader, in the world of CQL. Jiang Yanli and Jiang Cheng's choices are overridden by their clan leader's final command to Wei Wuxian.  Wei Wuxian's core is arguably Jiang Fengmian's property--Wei Wuxian certainly sees it that way, just as his hand was Yu Ziyuan's to take if she wished.  

The brothers tenderly tuck Yanli into bed in the rolly cart and hand her off to Song Lan. They talk about how important it is to get her to Lanling and that she's probably going to be mad, as they thank Song Lan for helping them. 

Yanli listens while she sleeps and, in what is becoming a trademark Jiang move, lets a single tear roll down the side of her face. Jiang Cheng points out that Yanli never gets mad at Wei Wuxian and Wei Wuxian is like, true dat.

How Can You Mend a Broken Heart?

Song Lan is always so emotional about every damn thing, I love him. Here he's like OH GOD NO DON'T FORMALLY THANK ME! STOP!!!

Then he starts to ask Wei Wuxian to pass a message to Song Xingchen for him, but then decides not to say anything, making it super obvious that they fought and aren't together. 

Wei Wuxian reacts to this with confusion and distress, probably because he doesn't want to imagine ever having a breakup with his own soulmate. Which he soon will be having.  But possibly he's just upset that his OTP broke up.

After Song Lan takes off, Jiang Cheng gives Wen Qing a rude & perfunctory thank-you bow, turning away before she can return it. Wei Wuxian tells her not to take it to heart - basically everyone who deals with Jiang Cheng gets a version of the "ignore what he says" speech. She says she understands and that in his place she would have behaved worse, which is so totally not true.  

Then she asks Wei Wuxian if he's sure about the core transfer (not in so many words, because the script is being kind of being vague about it, without actually hiding what's happening). His reply pretty much encapsulates the whole Wei Wuxian experience.

Then he and Jiang Cheng walk off, with Jiang Cheng giving us a rear view that had me googling Wang Zhuocheng's fashion shoots to determine if that wagon he's draggin’ is really as delightful as this belt makes it look. Alas, there is not a wealth of photographic evidence for this research, as compared to, for example, photos of Xiao Zhan's outstanding ass.

Wen Qing and Wen Ning see them off, with Wen Qing wishing they valued their lives more. Although, what she and Wen Ning are doing is massive treason, so their lives will be pretty much forfeit if they're caught, so...

The Sunshot Campaign of Like 60 Dudes

Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng walk up the mountain for the whole beginning of the Sunshot campaign, which...okay. Maybe it's like Dunkirk or The Witcher where they intercut stuff that is happening in different timeframes, which is one of my least favorite new film style thingies.

You know, for a guy Wei Wuxian constantly calls "peacock," Jin Ziyuan really doesn't wear a lot of adornment; just some subtle metalwork on his belt with no dangly bits at all, and a single reasonably-sized hair crown. Compared to the extremely fancy Lan Wangji he's almost plain. We already know that Wei Wuxian is a massive hypocrite when it comes to his idea of a perfect boy, however.

So, this is the Lanling Jin army, which consists of literally 60 guys, including the ones on the stairs and Jin Zixuan and Douchebag Dad. How are they going to fight a war with this tiny group? Why do they have such a big plaza? Hasn't anybody on this production learned CGI cloning?

That’s better.

Nie Mingjue and his best bitch Baxia make quick work of the 4 Wen guys who were assigned to hold the Unclean Realm. 

Hello, Daddy Da-Ge!

Squeeee, it's Lan Wangji! He's taking back Cloud Recesses! Ooooohhh we've missed you Lan Wangji.

Look guys he's here! Look how beautiful he is. He's looking at the gate of cloud recesses and thinking thoughts that Lan Xichen or Wei Wuxian could probably see in his bewitching eyes if they were here to see him, which they aren't. But at least he is here!

....and now he's gone again. *cries*

Hares On The Mountains

Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian continue roaming prettily around this pretty mountainside. The locations in this show are such eye candy. 

Young laddies they run like hares on the mountains Young laddies they run like hares on the mountains  Young laddies they run like hares on the mountains  If I was a young lass I’d soon go a hunting

Jiang Cheng starts to have doubts about the whole Baoshan Sanren thing. Wei Wuxian's reply pretty much encapsulates the whole Wei Wuxian experience.  

Then we have just the tenderest blindfolding scene, (more gifs here), which is fodder for your ChengXian dreams, if you have those.

Here's a good place for a sidebar about what is and isn't incest. Whee! In the CDrama context, relationships tend to be more clearly defined than in western media. The mechanism of confession & acceptance means that people either are or are not in a romantic relationship, with few grey areas. So a character can literally say "we grew up as brother and sister, but now we are dating" and when someone looks startled they just say "there's no blood relation" and everyone is like "cool cool" and that's the new definition of the relationship.

For a strong example of this, the extremely wonderful Go Ahead is about a contemporary family in which a girl and two boys, who are not blood relatives, are all raised together, and call each other brother and sister. When they become adults, they and everyone around them expect the girl (now a woman) to marry one of the two men who have been her brothers, while whichever one she doesn't choose will carry on as her sibling. It's treated as the most natural, logical thing in the world; the only question is whether she wants to make that transition, and with whom.

Looked at through this lens, Wei Wuxian's relationships with his adoptive siblings have just as much potential to turn into romances as his relationships with his friends do, and there's nothing creepy about it. As such you can expect my meta to always get into ChengXian moments without treating it as a wrong or forbidden love. Hopeless, of course, because Jiang Cheng is such a prick the power of WangXian is stronger, but that's a different matter.

What is wrong is wearing this fantastic hat & veil combination when the most fashionable person on the mountain is blindfolded and can't see it.

In the course of this blindfolded encounter with Wen Qing, Jiang Cheng gets to kneel before a powerful woman, be led along by a length of silk that's placed in his hand, and then knocked the fuck out and operated on. He'll wake up in a hotel room in a tub full of ice with "we took your kidney" written on the mirror in lipstick, and he'll love every minute of it.  

Soundtrack: 1. Still Fighting it, by Ben Folds 2. Hares on the Mountain, by Steeleye Span

Writing Prompt: The NEXT time somebody blindfolds Jiang Cheng

#fytheuntamed #the untamed #the untamed gifs #chengxian #cql #restless rewatch the untamed #canary3d-original #my gifs

[writethelifeyouwant]

Nothing On But The Radio

Pairing: Jared x Jensen  Rating: 18+ Tags: SAXX, clothing kink, dirty talk, degradation, blowjob, anal fingering, object insertion (DO NOT try this at home - not safe), anal sex Word Count: 2.7k  Created for: @spnkinkbingo - SAXX | @anyfandomgoesbingo - Dirty Talk Prompt: @downanddirtydean 's 500 follower celebration challenge: “The internet is more than just naked people. You do know that?” - Congrats on the milestone babe! 

“The internet is more than just naked people. You do know that – right?”

Jared jumps in his chair as Jensen comes up behind him on set. He had been scrolling through the SAXX website to stock up on a few necessities, which isn’t necessarily embarrassing, but still not something you want people looking over your shoulder while you’re doing. “They’re not naked, Jensen,” Jared scoffs, going back to adding more pieces to his cart. “And stop stealing my lines,” he adds as an afterthought when he realises that Jensen was quoting Sam to him.

“Okay, mostly naked,” Jensen laughs and leans over the back of Jared’s chair, their heads almost touching, but not quite.

“Dude, do you mind?” Jared chuckles and tries to put some space between him and his co-star.

“Yeah, I mind. Lemme see,” Jensen grabs for the phone and starts scrolling through Jared’s cart. “I want to pick something out.”

“Why? So you can steal them for yourself?” Jared grins.

“No, so I can tear them in half before I fuck you in them,” Jensen whisper-growls into Jared’s ear so no one else can hear him. Jared goes bright red, checking no one is near enough to overhear them. “What, you embarrassed baby boy? Don’t want everyone around here knowing a big, strong guy like you lets himself get fucked in the ass every night?” Jared is pretty sure he’s stopped breathing. “Don’t want them to know what a little whore you turn into the second I get you alone and on your knees?”

“Jesus, Jen, fuck,” Jared gulps and steadies himself, trying to get a handle on the erection that is starting to push a little too insistently against his zip. “Shove the dirty talk, will ya? We’ve got a whole other scene to film before they let us outta here.”

“So is that a yes to buying whatever I pick out?” Jensen smirks.

“Yes, fine,” Jared concedes and sinks back in his folding chair. “Just nothing pink, yeah?”

“Oh, I am one hundred percent buying you the pink ones now,” Jensen grins and Jared drops his head into his hands. Why is his boyfriend such a doofus?

Their little exchange is all but forgotten until Jared drops by his trailer and sees Jensen waiting on the steps for him, brown cardboard box in hand.

“Terri dropped off a package for you,” Jensen waves the box around in case it hadn’t been obvious to Jared what he meant. “I told her I’d be sure to give it to you,” he grins. Jared’s heart skips, knowing exactly what is in that box. Well – not exactly what is in the box. He knows everything he added to his cart before Jensen got hold of his phone, but Jen hit ‘purchase’ before he passed it back, and deleted the receipt, so there was no way for Jared to figure out what Jensen had ordered.

“Why do I feel like there’s a decent chance you’ve hidden a bomb in here,” Jared asks as he gingerly takes the package from Jensen and pushes into his trailer.

“Because you’re weird,” Jen laughs, staying on the pavement. “They need me for blocking checks but we’re done in time for dinner if you’re free?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Jared nods.

“And, Jar–” Jared turns back around at Jensen’s call. “I count on seeing you in those tonight.”

“Which ones?” Jared calls back, a feeble attempt at a joke.

“Oh, you’ll know which ones,” Jensen laughs, and Jared can feel the hunger in it. He gives Jared a perfunctory salute and makes his way back to the soundstage, leaving Jared with his new package.

As soon as the trailer door is shut, Jared tears into the box. The relief he feels upon not seeing any pink is immediate, but it’s closely followed by suspicion about what Jensen actually did buy him. He quickly skims through the items and finds the culprit – a pair of black briefs that are really testing the limit of the definition of ‘briefs’. Jared is positive that these will barely cover any part of his body, and when he tries them on a few minutes later, his suspicions are confirmed. He looks like a hooker in a g-string. Almost certain that he is going to regret this later, Jared pulls his jeans back on over the new underwear and gets redressed.

When Jared and Jensen stumble back into their shared apartment later that night, very much worse for wear courtesy of the new whiskey bar downtown that Misha recommended to them, Jared had mostly forgotten that he’s wearing ridiculously skimpy underwear. Jensen, on the other hand, hasn’t been able to get the image of Jared in the tight black briefs he’d bought him out of his head – and now he wants to see if the real thing measures up to his imagination.

“Right, J-rod,” Jensen claps once to get Jared’s attention and points to their bedroom, “bedroom, strip, now.”

“Romantic Jay,” Jared grins dopily but does as he’s told.

“Trust me, ain’t nothing romantic about what I’m planning on doing to that ass of yours,” Jensen laughs and follows Jared, catching the recently-shed flannel Jared flings down the hallway at him.

“Bettin’ on it,” Jared smiles, stripping out of his t-shirt in the doorway to their room and dropping it to his feet. Jensen can see the waistband of Jared’s underwear peeking above his jeans, the little ‘SAXX’ right in the centre of the deliciously cut vee of Jared’s hips. Jensen wants nothing more than to run his tongue along the line straight to Jared’s cock – and then he realises there’s nothing stopping him, so he drops to his knees in front of his boyfriend and does just that. He drags his tongue across Jared’s skin, smiling when he hears his intake of breath, and moves lower and lower until he reaches the ‘SAXX’ label and sucks it into his mouth. Jared jumps when Jensen lets it go and the elastic snaps back against his stomach. “Jerk,” he whines.

“Shuddup ‘Sam’,” the intonation is heavy in Jensen’s words and he drops into his ‘Dean’ voice, grinning as he undoes the button and zip on Jared’s jeans, tugging them down harshly and leaving him bare except for the skimpy underwear. “Unless you want me to make you my bitch tonight?” Jensen uses his Dean voice again as he leans into mouth against the erection straining in Jared’s briefs, the black cotton bulging so much Jensen’s surprised Jared actually fit himself inside them in the first place – now he was hard they barely cover anything.

Jared moans at the feeling of Jensen’s mouth against his cock. Something about getting sucked off through fabric always hits a bit differently than just having someone’s mouth on your dick, and right now, with Jensen suckling intently on the tip of his dick through his briefs, this is hitting exactly the right spot for Jared. “Fuck,” he whimpers, threading his fingers through Jensen’s hair, “Jen, you know if you want me to be your bitch, all ya gotta do is ask,” Jared pants, looking down to meet Jensen’s eyes, which are smirking up at him from where he still has his lips wrapped around Jared’s dick.

Jensen pulls off of Jared with a grin and gets to his feet. “Yeah I know, baby boy,” he coos and pulls Jared in for a heated kiss, tongue pushing its way between Jared’s lips, hot and wet. “Now, be a good little bitch and go get yourself ready for me, yeah?” Jensen smirks as he watches Jared nod and trip over his own feet in an effort to get to the bed quickly. He gets the lube out from the nightstand and goes to take off his underwear but Jensen hurries over to stop him. “Nuh uh, sweetheart. Keep those on for me,” Jensen orders with his hand clenched around Jared’s wrist.

“Sure,” Jared gulps, wide eyed, and moves his now slick fingers behind him and sneaks his hand beneath the waistband of his briefs to find his entrance. Jensen watches Jared hungrily as he fingers himself open, undressing all the while; plaid, then t-shirt, then jeans, then boxers – all one by one dropping to the floor. Jared moans when Jensen starts to stroke his own cock, admiring the drop of precum that’s already spilling over the dark pink tip. “C-can I?” Jared stutters, eyes locked on Jensen’s fingers moving slowly up and down himself.

“Yeah, c’mere baby,” Jensen kneels on the bed and shuffles closer so Jared can reach him with his mouth. The second he’s near enough, Jared sucks Jensen between his lips, running his tongue along the underside all the way to the hilt, until his nose is pressed snuggly against Jensen’s hip. “Fuck, forgot how much of a cockslut you are when you’re drunk,” Jensen chuckles deeply, combing Jared’s hair back off his forehead so he can watch him start to move up and down on his dick. “That’s it baby. Shit, your mouth feels so good,” he groans, closing his eyes and bucking his hips into Jared’s eager throat. “Such a good little slut letting me fuck your mouth while you finger that ass open for me. Got you wrapped around my little finger don’t I, bitch?” Jared moans around the cock in his mouth but Jensen doesn’t let up enough for him to get a proper answer out. “Yeah, thought so,” he scoffs.

Jared hums and moans around Jensen’s cock as he continues to finger himself. He’s definitely stretched and slick enough now, but he loves the feeling of Jensen using him like this, so he’s not gonna stop until Jensen tells him that’s what he wants him to do. After a few more minutes of Jensen fucking his throat, Jared feels him start to tense and jerk, and he knows Jen is close.

“Stop, stop, fuck baby,” Jensen groans, pulling Jared off his cock by his hair, and drawing a whine from the younger man. “Don’t want me to cum before I get the chance to fuck that ass, do you?” Jared shakes his head weakly, still pushing his fingers lazily in and out of his hole. He whimpers when he pulls his fingers out, and Jensen smirks down at him as he tries to once again take off the pair of SAXX. Jensen catches Jared’s wrists and holds them behind his back, pushing him onto his stomach. “I didn’t say you could take those off,” he growls against Jared’s ear, nipping at the skin and pulling another whimper out of him. Jensen sits up, keeping Jared’s wrists pinned in one of his hands while he reaches for the lube with the other to slick up his cock. “Your ass looks so good in these baby, look like such a little tease.” He lands a harsh slap against Jared’s backside, making Jared jump and cry out. “Imagine if all those fans saw more than just the label peeking out over your jeans, saw what a big man whore you look like with nothing but these on.”

“Jen, please,” Jared groans, humping against the bed to try to get some kind of friction or relief. “You want me to beg, I’ll beg, please for the love of God, put your cock inside me.” Jensen just laughs and spanks Jared again, even harder this time. “C’mon Jen, please, need you,” Jared pants, looking over his shoulder to catch Jensen’s eye. The desperation on his face is clear as he moans – “Need something inside me, please Jay.”

“You need something inside you baby boy?” Jensen sympathises, relinquishing his grip on Jared’s wrists, but the look of mischief in Jensen’s eyes makes Jared nervous.

“Yes, fuck, please,” Jared begs again.

“We can fix that,” Jensen smirks, reaching forward to grip just under the waistband of Jared’s briefs and wrenching the seam apart, the underwear ripping easily under Jensen’s violent influence. Pieces of the briefs come away in Jensen’s hand and he grins, getting an idea. Eyeing the shine of Jared’s hole, Jensen gathers some of the lube leaking out and smears it over the cotton, which is already damp with lube and Jared’s precum where his cock had been leaking. Bunching up the sopping cloth, Jensen pushes a finger into Jared to check he was still adequately open, then he shoves the torn material inside.

Jared chokes on his moans in surprise at what he’s feeling. The ball of cotton is pressing just against his prostate and it’s a very weird sensation but he can’t deny it feels good. “Fuck Jen,” he groans, pushing off his stomach and onto his hands and knees. Jensen lets out his own groan when he sees Jared’s hole winking up at him, showing him glimpses of the black cotton he’d just shoved inside him. He ruts his cock along the seam of Jared’s ass, catching the tip on the edge of his hole and dragging groans from both men. Jensen can’t hold himself back anymore, and he finally pushes himself into Jared, moving agonisingly slowly to tease the younger man as much as possible.

“You dick,” Jared pants, dropping his head to rest against his arms and pushing his hips back into Jensen’s cock, forcing him the rest of the way inside.

“Someone’s eager,” Jensen tries to keep his tone light, but now that he’s inside Jared, who keeps clenching his ass around his cock in an effort to get him to do something, he’s lost the majority of his composure.

“Just fucking fuck me already,” Jared hisses, bucking his hips back again. Jensen is tempted to make Jared wait, and beg for it – tease him until he’s crying in desperation – but he knows even he won’t last that long. As he draws out and snaps his hips back in, the tip of his cock brushes against the cotton he’s shoved into Jared and the sensation is electrifying. The little bit of slick friction just on the tip of his cock every time he fucks into Jared is so fucking good, he can’t get enough, and his pace turns frantic quickly. “Fucking hell, fuck yes,” Jared moans beneath him, spurring him on even more. “You fuck me so fucking good baby, shit, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’–” Jared’s words trail off into unintelligible whimpers as Jensen pounds into him mercilessly.

“Yeah, fucking love how good you take it baby. Gonna cum on my cock like a good little whore? My good little bitch, huh?” Jensen grits out breathlessly, draping himself over Jared’s back and angling his hips so he knows he’s dragging his cock over Jared’s sweet spot with every push in.

“Fuck, please, please,” Jared whimpers, turning his face to Jensen’s and clumsily trying to press their lips together. “I– I’m.. fuck,” Jared keens and Jensen growls his approval against his ear.

“C’mon, cum for me baby boy, wanna feel you cum,” Jensen snarls and he feels Jared let go, his hole spasming around Jensen’s cock as he empties himself in long white ropes onto the bed beneath them. Feeling Jared lose control is all that Jensen needs to go over the edge himself. He finally lets himself cum, grunting as he slams his hips into Jared one last time and stills, the tip of his cock pressed against the ball of black cotton still nestled inside Jared, now covered in Jensen’s cum. That thought brings a satisfied smirk to Jensen’s lips.

When their breathing has settled, Jensen carefully pulls out of Jared and rolls off of him, collapsing on the bed. Jared drops on top of him, nestling into Jensen’s chest and giving him a small kiss.

“That was really hot Jen,” Jared smiles drunkenly – though whether he’s drunk on whiskey or his orgasm, Jensen can’t tell.

“Just like you, baby boy,” Jensen says softly, kissing the top of Jared’s head.

“But,” Jared says shiftily, glancing up at Jensen.

“But?” Jen prompts, defensively.

“How am I supposed to get this fucking underwear out of my ass?”

Tag List: @vulgar-library @tintentrinkerin @negans-lucille-tblr @fandomfic-galore @petitgateau911 @whoreforackles @schaefchenherde @kickingitwithkirk @little-diable @laxe-chester67 @kassyscarlett @delightfullykrispypeach @05supernatural20 @akshi8278 @deandreamernp @lyarr24 @lovealways-j @stoneyggirl @walkersbabygirl @austin-winchester67​ 

#downanddirtydeans500followerscelebration #spnkinkbingo #anyfandomgoesbingo #afgbingo #J2 Fic #jared x jensen #j2 smut

[link4eva]

Kiro’s Promised Date in January (元月之約) [CN]

Hey, y’all! A couple notes before you begin reading...

This date was released a couple of years ago in the CN server but hasn’t been released to the ENG server. I think it’s safe to say that it won’t be released so I’ve decided to just go ahead and translate this super cute date.

With that being said, I don’t actually know any Chinese so this date was done by the power of Google Translate and with a huge help from the amazing and wonderful @keliosyfan​ ! You’re the best!! 

I hope you enjoy!!~

[First Part] 

On a Sunday afternoon, Kiro came downstairs to my apartment building early. We had made a date to go to the department store to purchase Chinese New Year’s goods together, but he didn’t think he’d have the spare time to do so.

(Scene changes to the mall)

The spring festival is approaching but the cold weather can’t curb people’s enthusiasm for buying New Year’s goods. Only at this time do the usually deserted shopping malls become lively. Lanterns, Spring Festival couplets, Chinese knots; every inch is filled with decorations. Their bright red colours make for a very warm atmosphere.  

MC: Sure enough, you still gotta decorate to have the feeling of New Year!

Looking at the various decorations, I couldn’t help but sigh. Kiro also couldn’t help but lean over towards me.

Kiro: So MC, do you decorate your home every Spring Festival?

MC: ...I do, but it’s not over-the-top. It’s just sticking spring couplets and hanging Chinese knots and the like. I prefer buying dried fruits and snacks rather than decorations~ 

Kiro: Shall we go and buy snacks now then?

Kiro looked at me with anticipation and excitement written in his eyes which made me unable to refuse.

MC: Just know that your purpose today is this. And... me too, of course!~

Kiro: Haha~ Who’s the one who’s always mindful all the time? Let’s go! Destination: Supermarket on the basement floor! *Changed some wording here*

With that being said, he raised one fist, while his other one held my hand very naturally, and winked at me.

Kiro: There are too many people here! We gotta hurry!

Before he finished speaking, I had subconsciously squeezed his hand back. Even in this cold weather, Kiro’s palm was still very warm. Like a warm winter sun…

As I imagined this, I couldn’t help but reach out to stroke the blonde hair sticking out from under his hat. The fluffy brim and scarf blocked most of Kiro’s face. And coupled with a pair of glasses, it would be hard to notice if he was even in the crowd.

Kiro: Speaking of which, this is the first time I’ve bought a New Year’s gift. I’ll be sure to follow your directions~

MC: Eh?

I recalled the year I went to Savin’s hometown with Kiro. At that time, he told me that he used to be alone so he didn’t like Chinese New Year.

It seems that Kiro’s life has become a little different because of me.

I don’t know whether it’s gratitude or blissfulness, but I look at him with a smile, my heart is overflowing with warmth.

MC: There are so many people who buy Chinese New Year’s goods!

I stretched out the ending cryptically.

Kiro: Are there?

Seeing Kiro’s curious look, I gave a slight cough but didn’t actually say anything, just leading him to the supermarket slowly.

He also secretly made up his mind.

Today, I have to prepare his New Year’s gift together with him! Not only that but also decorate his house so that he will have the most enjoyable and happiest Spring Festival ever!

[Second Part]

There are more people in the supermarket than I had originally thought. Fortunately, Kiro has already done a “full disguise”. But even so, leading this superstar to walk amongst the crowds still made me nervous.

Kiro didn’t think much about it. The empty shopping cart was soon filled with all kinds of New Year’s goods, so many that it was overflowing.

MC: It feels almost done, shall we check out?

I glanced at the shopping cart, then looked at the goods on the shelf. I didn’t hear Kiro’s answer so I turned my head to look at him. Kiro was fiddling with his scarf while frowning slightly, looking a little distressed.

I was a little puzzled. Before I had time to ask, I found myself looking at the glasses on the bridge of his nose. A layer of fog appeared on the transparent lens at some point. Looking closer, Kiro also had tiny beads of sweat on the tip of his nose.

I looked at his tightly wrapped coat and the fluffy scarf that was super warm at first glance….

Is it too hot?!

I hurriedly pulled Kiro to a corner and looked around to make sure no one could see us. I quickly took off his glasses.

MC: Sorry, I forgot that the heater is always on during this time of year….

Kiro’s forehead was also covered in sweat but he still smiled gently.

Kiro: It’s okay, winter should be a little warmer….

MC: Anyway, take off the scarf first!

I stretched out my hand and wanted to take off the scarf for him. As soon as my fingertips touched the soft corner of the scarf, I was held by Kiro.

Kiro: Don’t move….

Kiro lowered his voice and his expression suddenly became a little nervous. I can say that this expression is quite familiar.

I quickly put his glasses back on him and then turned my head and ran away from some girls’ gazes.

That was close! I exhaled and Kiro’s low laugh came from behind me.

Kiro: That was a quick response time! As expected of my Miss Chips!

MC: I haven’t even worked out with you yet…

I puffed up my cheeks and pretended to complain. I wanted to get out a few more words but they got caught in my throat when I saw the sweat on Kiro’s neck.

MC: How about we forget it today? Next time, I’ll come by myself….

Kiro: But you have a film shoot next week, won’t you be busy?

Kiro leaned closer, lowered his glasses, and looked at me.

Kiro: Let’s just buy the stuff today. It’s been a long time since we went shopping together. So let’s fulfil my cautious wish~

While talking, a few more customers passed by, and Kiro quickly pushed up his glasses.

MC: Pff….Good response haha!

Seeing him panicked, I couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe because of me, Kiro also laughed again.

The next second, I was pulled into a warm embrace.

MC: Woah! What’s happening?

I exclaimed, Kiro’s breathing on the side of my neck was light and slow. The warmth on my neck then began to trickle up towards my cheek, little by little.

Kiro: Forget it, I won’t lie to you. It really is a bit hot. 

MC: Then we are one and the same--

Kiro: So, let me hug you so I don’t get hot.

MC: Wouldn’t that make things hotter?....

(Screen goes black)

I couldn’t help but whisper. Kiro turned his head slightly as if he hadn’t heard me and hugged me tighter. His soft hair rubbed against my neck, his hot breath fanned onto my skin, and even my heart somehow felt weak.

MC: Why are we doing this?....

Kiro: Because I like it, don’t you?

His voice was smiling. Although I couldn’t see his face, I could easily imagine his smile. It must be as warm as his embrace.

MC: I…., I….

(Mall background comes back up)

I hesitated for a while, unable to say a complete sentence. Kiro’s laughter fell onto my ears more clearly. We just hugged quietly in the corner for a while. During this time, customers occasionally passed by and sometimes glanced at us weirdly.

I’m really embarrassed by the constant “watching ceremony”. I gently pushed Kiro who was leaning against me.

MC: Kiro, this is too embarrassing….

Kiro: It doesn’t matter, just let them watch~

As he said this, he hugged me tighter and whispered to me. The heat that had finally dissipated from my cheeks was ignited once again and I was too shy to speak. Kiro quickly let go of me.

He put on his hat again and under his cover-up was his brilliant, smiley face; as bright as the sun.

Kiro: OK, charging is complete! I have been fully resurrected! Let’s go continue our shopping over there! 

[Third Part]

Kiro took my hand and pulled me to the other side where all the New Year’s decorations were. Although he looked at ease, I couldn’t help but feel a little worried when I saw his thick coat and fluffy hat.

MC: I’ll buy the stuff quickly! If you feel hot, let me know….

Kiro: You worry too much, I’m fine. But since you’ve said so, then I must take on the important task of reminding you about the time….

He stopped suddenly and turned to look at me sideways, his expression becoming very serious for a moment.

MC: And, therefore?

Even knowing that he is likely to be joking with me again, I still subconsciously start to get nervous and stare at him indifferently.

Kiro: Therefore, I have to hug you every ten minutes which can remind you of the time and “charge” me simultaneously. Perfect!

Kiro raised his eyebrows, his feigned seriousness was instantly replaced by a somewhat triumphant smile.

I was told by him that I didn’t know what to buy, so I turned around and hurriedly tried to escape the heat that was ignited again.

The other side of the special area for New Year’s goods is mainly various kinds of decorations. Since I’ve decided to help Kiro decorate, I decided to get all sorts of New Year’s goods.

I kept stuffing all kinds of things into the cart. When I got to the fifth New Year’s decoration, Kiro couldn’t help but make a comment.

Kiro: MC, will this be too much? Aren’t you just doing simple decorations?

MC: These are for….

I paused and watched Kiro carefully examine the appearance of the New Year’s decorations. I decided not to tell him that the decorations were actually his for the time being.

It could be thought of as a small surprise for him! 

MC: I bought it for the company!

I randomly thought of an excuse and carefully continued to select decorations. Although I have bought a lot, I still feel that it is not enough.

MC: This seems good….

When I came to the pillow shelf, I looked at the piggy-shaped pillow in front of me and muttered to myself.

Suddenly, I felt a heavy weight on my shoulders. Kiro’s hands tightly encircled me from behind, his hot breath fell on my ears.

Kiro: Ding dong! Friendly reminder, ten minutes is here~

I don’t know if it’s because of the thick scarf or Kiro’s breathing, but I felt my cheeks get hotter. I turned my head and Kiro’s face was close at hand. His cheeks were dyed a light red.

MC: Are you hot?

Kiro: Not hot! Not hot! Have you picked up everything?

The corners of his mouth were raised slightly with a smile. However, that smile seemed to be less energetic than before and perhaps even a little weak.

I took another look at the pillow, then looked back to Kiro, then nodded quickly.

I have to say, even after staying in a heated building for so long, the bitter cold can make people feel refreshed.

(Cut to plaza)

Walking out of the mall, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. As soon as I was about to ask him about the next stop, Kiro proposed that he take me to a place.

Kiro finally stopped after going through an alleyway not too far from the mall.

Kiro: We’re here!

(Cut to shop)

A small shop covered in bright red appeared in front of me. Sunlight penetrated through the alleyway, lighting up the window grilles on the glass; it looked like it was shining.

Flaming red lanterns are hung on both sides of the store door, and the handwritten Spring Festival couplets with the word “blessing” written on them, are paired with the brown wooden doors.

Through the window, you can vaguely see the things placed inside it. The uniquely designed pillows and the exquisite Chinese knots form exquisite New Year’s pictures….

I couldn’t help but walk a few steps forward and looked at the wooden door carefully. Suddenly, I began to wonder if I was really in the center of Loveland City.

Kiro smiled and pointed to the red lanterns by the door and shook his head to talk about it, following the way I explained the New Year’s goods with him before.

Kiro: In fact, I discovered this store on Halloween. At that time, there were no red lanterns and wooden doors, only pumpkins and bats.

Kiro: I walked by accidentally during Christmas. I didn’t expect that the decorations and merchandise here all became the theme of Christmas!

Kiro: So I guess, in this current period, will this be the theme of the Spring Festival? Sure enough, I guessed it~

MC: Sounds like a pop-up shop! Or “theme flashes”?

Kiro: Almost! Although the theme is always changing, there is one thing that’s in the store year-round.

MC: Eh, what is it?

Kiro winked at me with a mysterious smile. He took my hand and opened the door at the same time.

Kiro: Let’s go see!

The moment I opened the door, the warm air surrounded me. Inside, there was a strong New Year’s breath. All kinds of New Year’s goods were neatly placed on the shelves. Before I had time to take a closer look, Kiro took me straight to the deepest part of the shop.

Because there were no outsiders present, Kiro finally had the chance to take off his thick disguise. The white T-shirt underneath was particularly eye-catching among the red New Year’s decorations.

My gaze had been naturally locked onto his body until…. 

Kiro: This is it!

As soon as Kiro’s voice sounded, a whole wall of donuts appeared in front of my eyes!

[Fourth Part]

The donuts in front have various shapes, and they all fit the theme of Spring Festival. There are pandas, pigs….

MC: Amazing! Wait, isn’t this shop selling decorations? Why are there so many donuts?!

MC: You said it’s always there….Is this still a dessert shop?

MC: What! No wonder you--

Before I could finish, the complacency on Kiro’s face instantly vanished and was replaced by a suspicious kind of blush.

He coughed slightly, with a side-eye, and reached his hand to take a panda-shaped donut from the shelf. 

Kiro: You can see through it. Actually, I heard that there’s a whole wall of donuts here. I thought I was in donut heaven but I didn’t expect this….I can’t eat any of them!

He sighed and put the donut on his index finger. The panda spun around on his finger like a hula hoop.

Kiro: It’s so realistic, turns out they are all decorations….  

Kiro: This is simply a fraud to food lovers! Unacceptable!

Looking at Kiro’s slightly puffed cheeks, I imagined that he was extremely disappointed after encountering “fraud” here on the first day, and laughed.

MC: That’s too funny! I want to interview the manager now~

Kiro: We’re not here to work, we are here to buy things! Take a look, how about that piggy pillow over there?

I looked in the direction of Kiro’s finger and a pair of cartoon pillows lay quietly on the shelf, designed to be cuter than the ones in the mall.

MC: Eh? Did you bring me here to pick a pillow?

Kiro: Yes, don’t you want to help me decorate my home well? I have to buy everything for you~

MC: Eh! How did you know?

I nodded. It took me a while to react with a shocked face to Kiro’s smile.

Kiro: Because your lying was really bad!

Kiro took the shopping bag stuffed with all kinds of New Year’s goods in his hand.

Kiro: Many of these were bought for me, right?

MC: You guessed it again���.

Kiro: I knew it! We really know each other the best!

His eyes are shining. He seems to have seen through my little surprises and secrets. But he secretly kept this discovery to himself.

A burst of warmth came to my heart and I looked at the pillows on the shelf and made up my mind; Today, I must pick the best New Year’s goods for Kiro!

With this in mind, I looked around in the store and finally bought the final purchase of the evening.

(Cut to Kiro’s house)

After returning to Kiro’s house and doing some decorating, the originally cold room finally had a New Year’s atmosphere.

I hugged the piggy pillow I just bought and slumped on the sofa. I looked around and was quite satisfied with my masterpiece. 

Kiro sat down beside me, picked up another pillow of the same style, and turned to me with a smile.

Kiro: Thank you, MC.

MC: No problem….

After suddenly receiving such a formal thank-you, I was a little embarrassed. I could only look away and look at the panda donut on the coffee table and whisper.

Both: So….

After a brief silence, we both nodded. I looked at Kiro in a daze. He also froze for a moment but he reacted quickly after.

Kiro: You go first~

MC: I just want to ask you about your future plans. How will you prepare for the Spring Festival this year? Do you want to go to Savin’s hometown?

As I spoke, I subconsciously recalled what happened last year. The memory was like eating a cola-flavoured candy, the sweetness spreading through my heart.

I prompted Kiro but found that he didn’t look very happy. Perhaps even a little depressed?

Kiro: Actually, this is what I wanted to ask you too….

Kiro: I will take over the work for the next party and start all kinds of preparations tomorrow. I have to participate in the live broadcast on New Year’s Eve.

He turned to look at me with a helpless smile on his lips.

Kiro: So I may not be able to accompany you on New Year’s Eve….

The cola candy suddenly turned into a bubble and shattered in the air with a loud “pop”.

I was playing with the pillow and my hand let go of it. I didn’t come back to my senses for a while. 

I needed to move my lips. Before I had time to say anything, Kiro threw the pillow aside and leaned directly in front of me. He knelt on the carpet, putting one hand on the back of mine, and making a swearing gesture with the other.

Kiro: I will come back to find you immediately after it ends, I promise! I’ll be there before midnight!

Kiro: If I can’t make it….

Kiro lowered his eyes. After a short pause, he picked up the donut on the coffee table, held it in front of him, and winked at me.

Kiro: Then I will also look at you behind the camera and accompany you in the most special way on New Year’s Eve!

His smile is always so gentle, and his eyes are like gentle sunlight, as if he could envelop me even if he was separated by the camera.

MC: Then if you can’t come back, I will try my best to eat up the New Year’s Eve dinner alone!

MC: What! I can also take photos of all the delicious things and send them to you!

Kiro: How do I feel that you deliberately want to torture me?

MC: Haha~ You saw right through it!

Kiro smiled and squeezed my hand tighter, his focused gaze seemed to look into the deepest part of my heart.

The moment our eyes met, I felt that the sadness that I was hiding was completely seen by him and I quickly raised the corner of my mouth and smiled at him.

Kiro winked without saying anything. The next moment--

The distance between us suddenly became very close. So close that I could see the curl of his eyelashes and I could see myself in his eyes.

Kiro: I’ve thought about it. Let’s give our New Year’s gifts to each other in advance!

The distance at this moment became increasingly smaller and our breaths were almost entangled. 

Between the lighting and the room, I quickly raised the pillow, blocking Kiro’s face!

MC: Wait, wait a minute! Whatever it is, give it to me on New Year’s Eve!

Kiro held my hand, the barrier that was blocking his face was removed by him. He blinked innocently. I felt that my cheeks were too hot but I had to bite the bullet and look at Kiro in front of me.

MC: If you can’t come back, I’ll find you….

MC: This is so you can prepare with peace of mind. After it ends, we will have the New Year’s Eve dinner together!

Kiro was taken aback for a moment and that little surprise immediately turned into a huge smile. His azure blue eyes were like a clear sky, washing away all my shame and disappointment.

He took my hand and gently kissed the back of it. The temperature bloomed from where his lips touched.

Kiro: Well, that settles it. I will prepare an even grander gift to give to you!

Kiro: When the time comes, you must accept all orders from me.

[END]

#mlqc #mlqc kiro #mr love queen's choice #mr love game #mr love #mr love kiro #zhou qiluo #he's so bold #i love it #date translation

[emelywrites]

Hi there! Could you write a fic about Diego and the Little Hargreeves? After being basically raised by Diego, she is very close to him, right? I think it would be interesting to see how their father’s funeral happens with them there. Cuz their other siblings barely got to know her, but Diego is more a father figure to her than Reggie ever was, and how she would stand by Diego in everything and showing how much they love each other and rely on one another (he would be so overprotective for sure)

Oh my god, I’m so sorry I took several months to get back to this but honestly I didn’t know where to begin. Now, these past few days I’ve been writing this, and I hope you enjoy. 

(For more parts see my Masterlist)

We Only See Each Other At Weddings And Funerals

Reginald Hargreeves was dead. You, 25 years old, far away from home, trying to stand on your own two feet, could not really care any less. You hadn’t seen your father since you and Diego had gone away from home. After you had graduated you went on to college across the country and now, deep in student’s debt and having just started to work, you truly did resent him.

What does one have an eccentric billionaire of a distant father for if not to pay one’s student debt? When you heard about it on the news one night you called Diego.

“Maybe there’s something in the will for you. God knows, you need it, Little”, he said.

“And to whom would he give something in his will? ‘The other child’? ‘The seven called her Little or something’?”, you wondered while putting some strong alcohol in your cart.

“And even if there isn’t. If you’re there we can discuss what you get. I don’t wanna go either but it feels like I truly have to”, he argued, “I think I’ll need you there, too.”

You sighed. He knew you couldn’t say no to him. He had raised you and that weighed quite heavily as an argument. “Fine. But I’m out the second someone asks who the hell I am and what the hell I want.”

That night you got quite tipsy and went to bed early because your drunk brain wouldn’t let you stay up. The next day at work you organised for a week off so you could go home for “a loved one’s funeral”, trying not to gag while you said that. 

On the train ride to The City you contemplated all the different scenarios that could play out. But nothing came to mind, really. Honestly, you didn’t even know what the others looked like. Diego and you tried to see each other as often as possible, so at least you were excited to see him. When you got off the train, he was waiting for you on the platform. You smiled brightly and ran into his arms, the duffle bag on your back slowing you down slightly and hopping around.

After you’d hugged for a little while he pulled back and took your bag. “Have you seen anyone yet?”, you asked on your way to the car.

“Well, yeah, I saw Klaus a while ago when I got him back into rehab. Not too excited about the rest”, he mumbled.

“I mean, Alison’s last film was pretty good apparently. I couldn’t go see it but I heard good things about it. It’s always great to hear “Hey, are you related to that actress? Cause you, like, have the same name and stuff.””, you laughed.

“Oh, and you know The Times’ alright selling author, Vanya, of course”, he rolled his eyes.

“You know, I think she was right. She was treated awfully, and so was I.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t write a book about it, for everyone to see, without even asking if we were okay with it.”

“Well, you wouldn’t have been alright with it.”

“Exactly my point”, he threw the bag in the backseat while you got in on the passenger’s side.

“Let her be, Diego. She’s been through enough, she doesn’t need us beating her up over living her life the way she wants to.”

He just rolled his eyes and then you proceeded to spend the rest of the car ride talking about your siblings and what had gone on in your lives while you didn’t see each other. When he parked the car next to your childhood home you looked at it with dread.

“Damn, this is what I took a week off for?”, you asked quietly, as if Dad could hear you if you spoke up.

Diego laughed. “Pretend you took the week off to see me.” You both smiled at that and got out of the car.

You took your own bag again and you entered the house. Pogo greeted you at the door.

“Oh, Master Diego, how nice to see you. Miss Hargreeves, I wasn’t expecting you.”

You gave him a short half smile and wrapped your hand around Diego’s wrist, trying to tell him that you didn’t want to make conversation and just get it over with.

“Nice to see you, too, Pogo. (Y/N) and I thought it’d be nice if she came along because she’s his daughter, too, you know. More than any of us, really”, Diego grumbled, obviously disappointed that you weren’t wanted.

“(Y/N)?”, Pogo asked, “That’s a very nice name, Miss Hargreeves.”

“Thank you. Diego came up with it after we moved out. Most people in the world outside this house have normal names”, you said.

You stood in awkward silence for a couple moments until Diego and Pogo nodded in a silent goodbye and you took off to explore the rest of the house.

“It hasn’t changed at all.”

Later that day all six of you stood in the courtyard, along with Grace and Pogo. Luther dumped the ashes while you stood next to Diego, his arm wrapped around you in a protective manner. You raised an eyebrow and let out a mocking snort when you looked at the pile of ashes on the ground, slowly getting soaked in the rain.

“You have anything to say, Little?”, Luther said with a raised eyebrow.

“No”, you said quickly.

Diego looked at you, who was looking at the ground, a smile that was trying to suppress a laugh on your face. The corner of his mouth twitched as he also tried to suppress his smile.

“You think it’s funny? Really? Dad died. Why are you even here?”, Luther asked you as he stepped closer.

“Hey, leave her alone, man”, Diego said.

“No, he’s right, it is funny”, you interrupted, “Look at that. It’s a pathetic pile of dust, that’s all he is now. That’s basically how he treated me my entire life, kind of ironic, huh?”

Alison snorted and Vanya’s lips twitched into a smile, before it immediately disappeared again.

“I’m here because I’m his daughter, too. Honestly, I’m hoping to pay off my student debt with a tiny piece of inheritance that I might not even receive because he forgot I existed. Some of my friends told me that their parents paid for their tuition, isn’t that crazy? And all my friends told me that their parents noticed them growing up. Anyway, I’m gonna get out of the Umbrella Academy’s hair. I was right, I shouldn’t have come.”

You turned to leave when Diego pulled you back. “You’re right. You have a right to be here just as much as the rest of us. Leave her alone, Luther. That’s my sister you’re attacking.”

“Boys, we don’t need a fight today or any day, really”, Alison tried to step up.

“This isn’t about you, this is about Little here, trying to sneak her way back in when it’s convenient.”

“It’s (Y/N) now, actually. And we’re all doing just that right now. We all left as soon as we could. You can’t fucking blame her for existing”, Diego shoved Luther, “Just because you stayed Daddy’s little boy doesn’t mean the rest of us didn’t grow up.”

Luther glared at Diego and then lunged at him. Everyone tried to do something about the two of them fighting but of course they never stopped until they knocked over Ben’s statue. I tightly grabbed Diego’s hand with a frown on my face and my eyebrows drawn together. Luther glared at us and then stomped off. The rest of us followed shortly thereafter.

This had been a bad idea.

#diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves imagine #diego hargreeves x sister!reader #the umbrella academy #Umbrella Academy

[angelicsentinel]

This prompt doesn’t exactly have a ship? I’d like to see Ran and Sonoko helping Shinichi after a case he solved. ( Also I hope you have a good day. Sending virtual hugs if you want 🙂)

Friendship is the best ship. Any ship also includes friendship, or none at all, rather. Thank you. And thank you for the prompt. Not sure if this is exactly what you were looking for, but I tried my best.

Aftermath

In the aftermath of a brutal case, Shinichi stares past the culprit as he’s cuffed and led to the back of a police cruiser. 

Things don’t happen for a reason. Things just happen, one after another, unceasing. He wishes for once things would just stop happening. 

Shinichi shakes his head, and limps towards Inspector Ayanokoji to give his follow up, only to be stopped by one Suzuki Sonoko, who steps in front of him with her arms stretched out as if to block his path. “Oh no you don’t!” she says. Blood mats her hair, her headband stained, and she’s a little bit sooty.

It’s superficial, but Shinichi still winces when he sees it. He wishes the culprit didn't try to take her as a hostage. Then he frowns. “Sonoko, let me by.”  

“You’re going straight to the hotel, Shinichi-kun!” Sonoko says, stamping her foot. 

Shinichi crosses his arms and narrows his eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah!” Sonoko says in response, crossing her arms and leaning forward. "Ran's not here to ride herd on you so that means I have to. Annoying."

"Yes, you are," Shinichi grumps, attempting to push past her.

Sonoko pushes herself up on the balls of her feet for more height, and then she hooks her arm around his neck, pulling him down and trapping Shinichi under her armpit.

"Hey!" Shinichi yelps, stumbling, but Sonoko jerks him forward anyway, strong-arming him to one of the Suzuki company cars and shoving him in.

"Get in, loser."

"This is a kidnapping," Shinichi complains, but Sonoko ignores him and gets in behind him, pushing him over and slamming the door.

"This is an intervention," she says, cutting her eyes at him.

Shinichi scoffs.

"Our hotel," she says, before pulling a nail file out and smoothing the rough edges where she'd scrabbled for purchase on the edge of the building. 

They ride in silence until she's done with her nails on one hand, then she picks up the phone. "Ran, get dressed and be in my room in like, five. No, no arguing, this is non negotiable." She hangs up and begins work on her other hand with the file.

Shinichi crosses his arms and stares at her.

Sonoko looks up, and then snorts and goes back to her phone.

"I was fine," Shinichi says finally.

"You're an idiot and you would have been there all night," Sonoko says. "You forget I grew up with you, moron."

"Like abducting me is any better?" Shinichi asks.

"Yes, actually. You should thank me." 

"In what universe?" Shinichi says. Though he might be grateful. Just a little. He's tired and it's been a long day.

Sonoko rolls her eyes, and the car is silent until they arrive back at the hotel, where Sonoko also proceeds to strong-arm him to her room, a small suite.

Which is how he ends up blinking at Ran as she opens the door for them with Sonoko's hand clamped down on the back of his neck.

Ran giggles, and so he lets Sonoko maneuver him to the sofa in front of the television before forcing him to sit down, limp obvious and in full force.

"Look at his ankle, will you Ran?"

"Sonoko!" Shinichi says, annoyed. The last thing he needs is Ran getting worried.

"I'm gonna go take a shower. Behave, Shinichi-kun!"

"I don't even want to be here in the first place," Shinichi says.

"Uh huh," Sonoko says, and slams the door to the bathroom, leaving Shinichi and Ran together in silence.

"Which ankle is it?" Ran says, thankfully no nonsense, grabbing a compression bandage from the first aid kit she brought with her.

Shinichi says, "...Left."

She sits down beside him, pulling his leg into her lap, easing off his shoe, then his sock. It's already swollen. Ran clicks her tongue. "Did you even get this looked at?"

"No." Shinichi's just glad Sonoko's not here to tell her he ducked out from medical. "It's just a sprain."

"It's not 'just' anything," Ran says. "You should take better care of yourself."

Shinichi can't hide his wince as she probes his ankle, then begins wrapping it tightly, but not tight enough to restrict blood flow. The pressure feels good, relieving, and she's done it often enough her movements are steady and sure. He wonders how many times she's done this for karate, and then more darkly, how many times she's done it after getting dragged into a case with him. More than she should have.

Once she's done, she grabs a few pillows from the bed, then moves the coffee table in front of the sofa.

Shinichi doesn't have to be badgered into elevating his foot. 

“I’ll go get some ice after a couple of hours, okay?” Ran says.

"Hope you're decent!" Sonoko calls out.

"Sonoko!" Ran and Shinichi say in unison.

Just then, a knock on the door. "Room service!"

"Oh, goodie," Sonoko says, and comes back from the door pushing a cart filled with food. A big bowl of caramel popcorn and two smaller bowls. There's boxes of candy, water and juice and soda, and even a sandwich tray and fruit tray. "That's kettle corn for you, Ran, and plain for mister plain and boring here."

“Thank you, Sonoko,” Ran says.

“What’s all that for?” Shinichi asks.

“Can’t you deduce it, Mister Detective?” Sonoko says. When he gives her a flat look, she continues, “Movie night!” She waves her hands in a flourish towards the TV. 

“I’m not watching anything with Brad Pitt,” Shinichi says immediately.

Sonoko scoffs. “Considering the ‘audience,’ I brought a selection,” she slams three boxes on the table, two noticibly bigger than the other. Elementary, Enola Holmes, and Miss Sherlock. “I know your detective nerd self wouldn’t watch anything else. Pick one.”

“What about this one, Shinichi?” Ran says. “She’s supposed to be Sherlock Holmes’ sister.”

“He never had a sister,” Shinichi says in half-protest, and apparently that’s enough of a complaint for Sonoko to decide on it and put it in the player while Ran sits down beside him. 

Sonoko grabs the remote and distributes the popcorn and drinks, and then for some reason she sits down on the other side of him, pushing him into Ran with a wink and a nudge, and then she doesn’t move. 

“Sonoko!” Ran scolds, but she laughs and accepts it.

Shinichi’s annoyed with it for all of two seconds, and then he remembers how much she’s gone through today, just for the simple act of being in his vicinity, and lets it go. Sonoko’s good at having a brave face, but he remembers her frightened one all too well, and that’s why he slips a comforting arm around her. Sonoko must need it more than he realizes, because not only does she not say anything about it, she leans into it, resting her head against his shoulder. 

For good measure, he slips his arm around Ran, as well. It’s hard too, to wait, not hearing things for hours and hours. 

“I’m glad you’re alright,” she whispers.

“I’m glad you weren’t there,” he replies. Sonoko shouldn’t have been there, either. Neither one of them should have to deal with the work that’s by now ingrained deeply in his blood.  

It’s not hard to get engrossed in the film, which turns out to be much better than he was expecting. Sonoko’s commentary drops off around the middle of the film, and Shinichi looks down to find her dead asleep. 

He turns and Ran too, has faded, resting her head against his shoulder, all of the stress and anxiety of the day knocking them both neatly out. 

Shinichi’s now being used as a glorified pillow. He can’t say he minds though. They’re both here where he can keep an eye on them. 

Once the credits roll, he shifts just enough to grab the remote and turn the television off. Instead of moving and disturbing them, he just tilts his head back and closes his eyes.

It’s been a long day for him too.

#detective conan #dcmk #suzuki sonoko #kudo shinichi #gen #platonic cuddling #sentinel writes #sentinel responds #banter #mori ran #long post #the last is because computer readmores seem to no longer work on mobile sorry