#anyway at the date they share a loveseat!! no one has to worry

[vaindumbass]

((written for @silversickles minifest! Day two: detention))

There was a desk in the room used for detention that belonged to Sirius. It was in one of the middle rows, because only suck-ups sit in the front and teachers always look in the back, and it was next to the window, so that he could look out over the grounds.

The desk was made from the same old wood as the other ones, and it was just as battered and ugly as the rest of them. The only difference was that this one was filled with scribbles by Sirius’ hand, and a few were courtesy of James, who always sat at the desk next to him.

They both claimed to have drawn the beautiful phoenix in the middle of the desk, but everyone knew it was actually Peter. Slughorn, who ‘supervised’ the detentions most of the time (he always fell asleep at his desk), never noticed.

Everyone knew it was Sirius’ desk, because he’d make it clear every time he had detention (and that was very, very often), and no one would sit there. Except this time, it seems.

Sirius is therefore absolutely stunned for two reasons when he walks into the classroom, 1) because someone is sitting in his seat, and 2) because the boy sitting there is absolutely gorgeous. Sirius doesn’t know him, only knows that he’s a recent transfer student, and the only reason he vaguely remembers that is because of the aforementioned gorgeousness.

The boy’s crooked nose almost touches the paper when he writes, and his lovely honey brown eyes are focused on the ink flowing out of his quill. There’s even a bit of ink in his (soft-looking) curls, which Sirius, unfortunately, thinks is endearing.

It’s truly a shame that he’s in Sirius’ chair.

“You’re in my seat.” Sirius says.

In one slow, smooth motion, the boy looks up from where he’s working, and looks Sirius up and down. Sirius resists both the urge to smile flirtatiously at him, and the one to physically pull him out of the chair. “Who are you?”

“Sirius Black.” He smiles at him. “I’d be more pleased to meet you if you weren’t sitting in my chair.” 

The boy huffs incredulously, as if he can’t believe Sirius is making such a big deal out of this, as if he thinks Sirius is being petty. (He has a nice smile.) “Remus Lupin. Also, I don’t believe your name is on it?” 

Sirius’ smile widens. “Maybe you should look a little better. If you would just get up...” The boy narrows his eyes at him suspiciously, but he stands up. Still grinning, Sirius takes the chair, and points to the place where it says: Sirius Black.

Remus shakes his head, but the corners of his mouth are curled up so Sirius takes it as a win. “That’s just ridicul--” 

Sirius cuts Remus off the moment he takes the now-free chair and turns it around as fast as he can, and then he sits in it, demonstratively. Remus laughs and pushes him to the side, and Sirius ignores the way he’s almost falling off the chair in favour of memorizing the sound.

Of course, this is the moment Slughorn, who had been sleeping peacefully, chooses to wake up. “Black, Lupin, back to your seats, please.” He winks exaggeratedly at Sirius. “Even your famous family can’t help you here.” 

Sirius begrudgingly accepts and goes to sit in a different desk, muttering about how he doesnt want his families help. Remus has the nerve to shoot him a triumphant grin, and then he looks shocked that he was in a fight over a chair of all things, and Sirius thinks he’s in love.

He’s sure of that the next time he has detention and sees a phone number crawled under his name, and the words: I hope you won’t make such a fuss about chairs at our date.

((edit: now with a part two!))

#if you think Remus is taking a big risk no he isnt <3 #either he has a hot date #embarrassed himself a /little/ bit in front of someone who isnt interested in him #or pissed of a homophobe!! #and he can always pretend it wasnt him akshasf #I bet he did that for a few seconds to tease Sirius #wolfstar #Sirius Black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #Sirius didnt even mind he was just happy he wasnt /actually/ texting an old grandma named Bertha #silversicklesminifest #You think Sirius is being a bad influence but actually he's allowing Remus to have fun!! can you blame Remus for immediately asking him out #Remus is there bc he corrected the teacher on mermaid's rights! hell fight for anyone's rights except for his own kafjh #marauders era #ficlet #my writing #wolfstar fluff #anyway at the date they share a loveseat!! no one has to worry #mywriting

[just-jordie-things]

hi! could i request prompts #39, #45 and #74 for a zuko x reader fic with a modern au that takes place on halloween, with the gaang and everyone dressing up for halloween? with the reader and zuko already being really good friends and a part of the gaang?

prompt 39: spin the bottle kiss prompt 45: passionate kiss prompt 74: kisses where one person is sitting in the other’s lap ___

You’d been chatting with Katara, complimenting her cute 70′s themed costume, and just blabbering on in tipsy delight.  However in the middle of your conversation about one of your classes, your eyes caught sight of the door opening, and in walked your favorite person.

“Zuko!” You cheered, grabbing your drink off the counter and excusing yourself from Katara so you could be the first to greet him.

He smiled sheepishly as you bounded up to him, the hood of your alien onesie flopping your head.

“I’m so glad you’re here!” You said happily, giggling as you threw your arms around his neck.

He nervously reciprocated the hug, not wanting to spill your drink or overstep his boundaries.

“Did I miss anything?” He asked, glancing around the room, but inevitably looking back down at you, because nothing could capture his attention like you did.

“Sokka and Aang are in a competition to see who can do the most casual backflips,” You said in all seriousness.  “There’s still time to catch up if you want to join” 

Zuko just laughs, and shakes his head, and you’re quick to jump topics.

“What are you dressed as, anyways?” You asked, poking at the leather jacket he wore.

“I’m an emo phase,” Zuko said, looking down at his black clothes and ripped jeans combo.  “Is it not obvious?”

“It’s more of a sexy bad boy vibe,” You giggle.

His face flushes pink at the comment, but you don’t notice.

“I have a great idea though! Come with me” 

You grab his hand and you’re pulling him into the apartment.  He barely had time to greet Suki and Ty Lee in passing before you bringing him into the bathroom.

“How do you feel about eyeliner?” You asked, setting your half empty drink on the counter so you could pick through your makeup drawer.

“Uh...” 

“Sit,” You prompt, softly pushing him down onto the toilet.  “You’re too tall, I can’t reach your face and keep a steady hand” 

He does as you say, and forgets that he should go say hi to his friends while you carefully pull the brush from the black tube.

“Is this really necessary?” He asks, but bites his tongue as you lean in close to him.

You smell sweet, like fruit or candy.  He wonders if it’s your shampoo or your perfume, or it’s both and it’s just your natural splendid scent-

“Absolutely,” You murmur, vote quiet so you could keep your focus.  “Now shut your eyes” 

Again, he complies, and you steadily drag the brush over his eyelid.  For being fairly tipsy, your hand his still, and the liquid applies smoothly.

“Perfect,” You hum, proud of yourself, and Zuko opens his eyes.

You’re so close it’s impossible not to think about kissing you, but at the thought a blush crawls up his neck and he wishes you would move away so you wouldn’t see.

“Now look up,” You direct.  “I’m going to do some under too, make sure the goth-ness really stands out” 

He nods, speechless, and looks as far up as he can.

But then your hand slides over his cheek so you can maneuver his face properly, as well as keep yourself steady, and he’s looking back at you again.

“Hey, up” You scold teasingly, and hastily he’s following your order.

He’s not sure that you’re aware of it, but as you apply more makeup, the thumb on his cheek is caressing him in smooth circles.  It’s somehow calming, while still making his heart race.

You did that to him a lot.

You’re slower this time, worried about getting it in his eye, but it’s over all too soon, and you’re pulling away from him with a grin.

“Perfect!” You cheer again, capping your eyeliner and putting it back into the drawer.  “You look very edgy” 

Zuko stands to look in the mirror, and it’s odd, but he can’t deny that you did an excellent job and it definitely makes him look more emo.

“Do you like it?” You ask, picking your glass up and taking a tentative sip.

He looks down at your hopeful eyes, and smiles before nodding.

“You’re right, it’s perfect, thank you” 

“Great! Let’s show the others!”

And so you’re taking his hand again and weaving through the small crowd in search of your close friends, Sokka and Aang in particular, because you know they’ll get a kick out of it.

“Who are all these people?” Zuko asked after passing too many unfamiliar faces.

“Katara and I invited some people from school,” You told him nonchalantly.  “I didn’t think a halloween party would be such a hit, but I guess people love ‘em more than I thought!” 

“Well if you invited them then I’m sure they do” He mutters.

It’s a vexed comment, but you look up at him with a bashful sort of smile, and the implication in his words has him blushing again.

You giggle, and do him the favor of not saying anything about it, instead finally catching sight of Sokka and quickly pulling Zuko over to him.

“Sokka, look!” You say eagerly, pushing Zuko forward to show the boy the excellent job you did on his makeup.  “I gave Zuko eyeliner!” 

Sokka cheers loudly, and hugs you with pride.

“Zuko, you look beautiful,” He gushes playfully.  “You should be so proud of your date here” 

Sokka’s, well, hammered, but still the comment throws Zuko off, and he begins to stammer.  No real words came out, but luckily you came to his defense.

“Sokka, stop teasing,” You say, and bring your hand up to Zuko’s arm.  “We’re gonna go get a couple drinks and then let’s hang out, okay?”

“Alright, I’ll find Suki and the others, meet in the living room in a couple minutes?”

You agree, and then you’re bringing Zuko with you to the kitchen.

You tended to do this at parties, even ones where it’s just your small tight-knit group of friends.  You stuck by his side and rarely ever broke off from him.  At first he’d thought you were doing him a kindness, because he was award and not always great at small talk.  But after a few parties, he started to get the feeling that you genuinely enjoyed his company, and chose for your own reasons to stick by his side.

“What’s your poison?” You asked him as you reached the kitchen, which was littered with every alcohol known to man, as well as dozens of red plastic cups, some used, some new, Zuko wasn’t sure it mattered.

“I’ll just have whatever you’re having” He says, and you grin.

“Suit yourself” 

He realizes quickly as you pour a generous amount of shots into a cup that you’re making your drinks strong, and he takes over for you.

“Why don’t you let me do that?” He says, taking the bottle from your hands and setting it down, before pouring half the alcohol in your into a second cup for himself.

You make a face, but don’t protest while he adds in the soda, and hands you your weaker drink.

You take his hand again as you both make your way to the living room, where most of your friends have already gathered.

Sokka and Suki share one corner of the sofa, Aang and Katara on the other, both couples hogging the whole space.

Ty Lee had claimed the recliner for herself, sitting in it sideways, her legs thrown over the arm rest.  Mai was at her feet, the girls sharing their drinks and whispering amongst themselves.

That left the loveseat, if you could call it that because it was so small, but you didn’t mind as you dragged Zuko along and plopped down onto the cushions with him.

Without a second thought, you moved in close to him and threw your legs over his lap.  You did it so casually you’d think that you always sat this way.  But that wasn’t the case, in fact Zuko’s not sure you’ve ever been this close to him before, and his heart does a somersault.

“So what are we playing?” You asked, taking a sip of your drink, and then a longer more dramatic drink while making eye contact with Zuko because you could barely taste the alcohol.

He rolls his eyes and playfully flicks your arm, before turning his attention back to Sokka, who’s deciding on a game.

“Let’s play something old fashioned,” He decides, and he’s smirking at everyone as he raises his beer bottle, before pausing dramatically.

Suki nudges him, prompting him to continue his thought since no one knew what he was talking about.

“I say, spin the bottle!” He declares loudly, enough to get a few other people’s attention, and now the group grows a little bigger.

“Really?” Suki mutters, glaring at her boyfriend.

“Well I won’t be playing, I'll just be moderator” Sokka argues.  The girl rolls her eyes, but goes with it anyways.

“Spin the bottle? Isn’t that kinda immature?” Aang asks.

“I think it’s fun!” Ty Lee chimes in.  “I’ll play!” 

With that, a couple more boys come to sit around in the living room.

You stifle your giggle in your hand at the way Ty Lee so effortlessly had men flocking to her.  You always admired her for it.

“Fine.  I’ll play” Mai sighs, leaning back against the chair Ty Lee sat in.

“You guys in?” Sokka asks, looking to you and Zuko.

“Oh, no,” You shake your head and put your hands up in defense.  “It’s not for me, I’m spoken for,” 

Zuko perks up at this, turning to you with a confused look because since when did you have a boyfriend? Or a girlfriend? You were seeing somebody and didn’t tell him?

He’s about to ask you a multitude of questions, probably all at once in a messy fashion, but you’re speaking up before he can.

“But you’ll play, right?” You ask him eagerly.

He wants to say no, because games like these are stupid and the only person in this room he’d actually want to kiss just said that she was spoken for, but you give him an encouraging nod, so he shrugs his shoulders.

“I guess” He mutters.

As Sokka goes over the rules and sets the bottle in the middle of the floor, you notice Zuko practically deflating into the sofa.  When you give him a worried look, he doesn’t meet your gaze, so you’re not sure what his issue is.

You decide to wiggle in closer, your legs bent at the knees and resting against his chest comfortably, and your head laying on the sofa cushion right next to him.

At your close proximity, he can’t help but look over at you, only to find your eyes already set on his.

“It’s just a game, Zuko,” You whisper cheerily.  “Lighten up a little, have some fun” 

You give him a sweet smile, and he doesn’t have the heart to tell you that some old school kissing game isn’t what’s eating away at him.

He returns your smile, albeit faintly, before putting his attention back on the game.

A couple of strangers kiss, Mai and Ty Lee share a kiss, and Aang spins the bottle once, using his airbending to make sure it lands on Katara.  That gets a laugh out of everyone as the waterbender gives him a dramatic smooch on the cheek.

The game is dumb, but it’s amusing to Zuko because you keep giggling and cheering for everybody, and everytime you laugh, the sound vibrates through him, and he forgets that his window of opportunity for asking you out had been shut.

He’s kicking himself, but he knows he shouldn't be.  Deep down, he knew that he never would have made a move, no matter how affectionate you were, or how much time you spent together.  The fact of the matter was he was too anxious about ruining a great friendship to make his feelings for you known.

But still, his heart ached a little as you rested your head on his shoulder.

He can’t help but wonder why you’re so cuddled up to him if you’re spoken for, but he’s not so big of an idiot that he’d ask you such a thing.

You whisper something, but he doesn't catch it because he’s so lost in thought.

“What?” He whispers back, eyes flickering down to you.

“You should stay over,” You repeat yourself.  “Katara and I thought it’d be nice to have everyone stay over for scary movies- not everyone, just, you know, us,” You tell him, and he knows what you mean.  “But you should stay” 

His eyebrows furrow in the slightest, and you lift your head to ask what’s wrong.

“What about your boyfriend?” He asks, quietly, and although it’s subtle, you can hear the venom in his voice.

Despite the comment, you giggle quietly, shaking your head at him.

There’s a crease between his brows now from how much tension he has in his face, and you fondly reach out to rub your thumb between them, easing them from their furrow.

There’s no time to ask you what is so funny, because suddenly Sokka is snapping in his face.

“Hey! Lovebirds! You spinnin’ or not, Zuko?”

Your hand falls from Zuko’s face, and you sit back into your comfortable position now that the whole room has their eyes on you.

Not, he wants to say, but he grumbles in agreement as he reaches his leg out, kicking the bottle into a spin with his boot.  You, among a few others, are giggling at the action, and while Zuko is distracted by the sound, Aang sends a little burst of wind at the bottle.

A couple people notice it, but they keep it to themselves as the bottle slows to a stop.

It’s pointed back at you and Zuko, and he flusters.

“Okay, s-someone else’s turn” He stammers.

“What? But it’s pointed right at (y/n)!” Sokka shrieks, gesturing wildly at you.

Zuko turns to you for a quick moment, almost apologetic, but as soon as he meets your eyes, he does a double take.

You’re smiling at him, and you lean up off the couch and straight your posture.

There’s whispers around the room, as well as music blasting and the chatter of the party goers who weren’t playing the game, but Zuko couldn’t hear anything over his heart pounding.

You get closer to him, your eyes noticeably flickering down to his lips before you’re wrapping your arms around his neck, painstakingly slow.

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth before you glance back up at Zuko, a nervous blush dusting over your cheeks.

For once, you’re the one blushing over him, and it brings him so much joy.

So in a quick move, his free hand reaches up to your face, thumb proving your lip from your teeth, instantly, you shoot forward, meeting his lips in a heated kiss.

All thoughts and reason flew out the window, and Zuko could barely set his drink down before taking you in his arms and bringing you as close to him as you could be.

Whoops and hollers surrounded you both, mostly from your friends, but a few bystanders were just happy to see someone getting some.

When you pull away, you’re winded, and Zuko’s hair is all over the place, but neither of you care.

As soon as the kiss ends, the game picks back up, and your peers go back to their meaningless conversations and dancing.  It gives you a sense of privacy, even in the crowded room.

“I just didn’t want to kiss anyone else,” You explained yourself in a murmur, your hands cupping around Zuko’s face.  “That’s why I said I was spoken for”

He chuckles, pushing the hair out of your face and bringing you in close again.

“Why didn’t you just say that?” He asked, and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Cause I didn’t think you’d kiss me if I’d asked you to” You replied.

“Well, you must have had more to drink then I thought,” He says teasingly, making you laugh as your forehead rests against his.  “Because I don’t want to kiss anyone else either” 

Your lips curl into a smile as your eyes flutter shut so he could kiss you again, this time softer, as you both took your time getting used to the new and exhilarating feeling.

You spent most of the rest of the night on that little sofa, lazily making out and drinking, as well as being made fun of by Sokka for it taking so long for the two of you to fess up your feelings.

Of course, you wouldn’t have had it any other way.  ___

xoxo ~ jordie

#atla #zuko #zuko x reader #zuko imagine #zuko scenario

[hanniiesuckle17]

Reaction to S/o Comforting Them

They Get Hate and Their S/o Comforts them.

A/n: Not requested and I really did not expect this to be so long but I just really wanted to go with this idea especially since its a serious topic

Bangchan:

The takeout bags were starting to become heavy in your hands. They were quite light at the bottom of the apartment building’s stairs but now almost ten steps away from your door on the fifth floor, they felt like ten-ton cement bricks. Thankfully you had remembered not to lock your door since you were going far and your boyfriend, Chan, was still home. “Chris! Chris, I’m back! I got you spicy chicken!” You called into your apartment. 

When you left Chan was doing a Vlive, but he should have ended by now. There was no answer. The two of you had converted the guest room into an office for Chan, but when you opened the door he was nowhere to be found. “Chris?” Nothing. He wasn’t in the living room or in the kitchen. Maybe he went to change? So, you ventured into your shared bedroom. He was nowhere to be seen. 

The door to your bedroom patio was open, however. Walking out, you saw Chan sitting on the loveseat you had outside. He was staring at his hands, his hair blowing in the breeze. “Baby, it’s cold. Why don’t you come in? I’ve got food from-” It was then you noticed the look on his face.

“Chan, love, what’s wrong?”

Exhausted, Chan ran a hand over his tired face and through his curly hair. “Nothing. I’m just- I’m in my own head. I saw this comment on Vlive and...I’m fine. Just tired.” You shook your head and sat next to him. “No. It’s not fine. You are obviously not okay.” Chris shrugged before looking up at the sky. “It’s really not a big deal.” He tried to shrug it off and give me a small smile, but we both knew it was fake. “Okay...You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, love.” Instead, you wrapped and arm around his shoulder pulling him down so his head rested in your lap. He didn’t fight your motion, relaxing as your fingers raked through his hair.

You knew Chan would tell you eventually. You just closed your eyes and focused on taking care of Chan and making him feel better. An hour had maybe passed and Chan still lay in your lap. 

“It was just one comment. It was so stupid that it got to me,” Chan said breaking the silence. Chan looked like he was about to cry. He held back the tears and instead reached for your other hand that was resting on his chest. “Go kill yourself and your team members. Your shitty music isn’t worth anything anyway.” Your movements froze.

Looking down you saw Chan fully focused on your fingers. You had dealt with hate. You were very familiar with it ever since you had begun dating Chan almost a year and a half ago. You knew he had anti-fans. It was no secret that out of all the members, Chan got some of the most and worst hate. But, this was cruel on a different level.

“Chan, I don’t know what to say...” He sighed, playing with your fingers. “If you did know what to say I’d be surprised.” You settled for playing with his hair once more, hoping that it would help. “This is more than enough. You just being here. You always seem to show up when I need you the most, Y/n.” He sighed and closed his eyes, further relaxing in your company. “Well, I love you, Chan. I’m always going to show up.”

Minho:

Your boyfriend was feeling really upset lately. The boys were prepping for a huge stage and Minho was going to do a solo performance as a transition. He had been spending all his time in the practice room rehearsing. You knew JYP was putting a lot of pressure on him and Minho was also stressed because BTS was confirmed to attend the award show. He didn’t want to fail in front of his old sunbaenims. 

Jisung gave you a hug as you walked down the hall. He had called you earlier and asked you to come to bring Minho some food. Apparently, he hadn’t eaten anything all day. As usual, Minho was blasting music in the practice room. He was alone and dancing in the middle of the room. Patiently you waited for him to finish before setting down the food and approaching him.

“Hey, baby! I brought you dinner.” Minho gave you a half-assed smile. “Thanks.” He was dripping in sweat so you walked over to his bag and grabbed the towel he kept in there. “Why don’t you take a break? Have something to eat.” He shook his head and wiped his face and neck. “I can’t- I’ve got to keep working.” 

Your boyfriend walked back over to the stereo turning on the music. This wasn’t like him. There was a fire in his eyes. A dangerous drive. He looked angry. You watched as Minho danced. Every once in awhile, he would mess up and almost scream in frustration. “Minho, stop. This isn’t healthy.”

“I’m fine!” Minho turned off the music and continued working on a specific section. 

Anger and frustration radiated off of him. You couldn’t help but stand frozen half in worry and half in fear. Heavy sounds of his footsteps bounced around the room. A screech was heard as his shoe slid across the wood floor. “ARGHHH!” Minho screamed, collapsing against the mirror. His forehead rested against the cool glass, his fists on either side of his head. “Why can’t I get it!?” The sound of shattering glass filled the wrong making you double back. 

When you looked you saw dark blood dripping off of Minho’s hand and splattering the cracked mirror. 

Slowly, you approached him, reaching out a comforting hand. Silence filled the room except for the sound of his shallow breaths. He flinched away from your touch at first but didn’t push you away when your hand rested on his shoulder. “I can’t make another mistake.” He said, his brows furrowing. “Minho, who said you were making mistakes?” 

No matter what you did, Minho wouldn’t look at you. “I know you told me not to look at them...It’s just hard not to. You don’t know when one of those is going to be mixed in with a good comment and-” You could tell he was starting to get angry again so you took his hand gently and pulled him into you. Like it was his second nature Minho’s arms wrapped around you. “Are you mad at me?” 

His question broke your heart. He sighed when he felt your head shake. “No, Never.” “I didn’t mean to scare you earlier.”  You could practically feel the frustration and tension leaving his body as you rubbed his back. “It’s not your fault.” After awhile Minho pulled away from rubbed his tired face. “Oh god. The mirror.” One of the dance mirrors was severely cracked from when Minho punched it. “I’m gonna have to pay for it. Chan’s gonna be pissed.” 

“Hey! Hey! Look at me,” You turned your boyfriend back around to face you. 

“I’ll take care of it. I’ll cover the cost of the mirror. You just need to come home with me, have some dinner and relax. Sound good?” An airy chuckle led this chest and he nodded. It was nice to see his smile again. He smiled even more when you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek before the two of you gathered your things and left the practice room. 

Changbin:

Four straight hours. Four straight hours of studying. Convinced you deserved a break you checked your phone and scrolled through Instagram. Then you noticed you had received a notification about thirty minutes ago that Stray Kids were live. Opening Vlive the video came into focus. It looked like your boyfriend and the rest of 3RACHA were live answering questions. Your eyes immediately went to your boyfriend. 

Changbin was wearing your favorite black beanie on him and a loose sweatshirt. One second he was smiling at something Han said and the next he was frowning at his phone. He took off his beanie and ran a hand through his blonde hair. Changbin was oddly quiet for the rest of the live stream. At one point he even turned his phone over and pushed it away. 

Something was not right. Changbin did not look okay. He avoided eye contact with the boys and kept his answers short. He had that look on his face. The same look when he found you still awake studying for an exam at three a.m. Changbin hated seeing you struggle. It hurt him seeing you push yourself.

Not being able to take it you opened the live stream on your laptop and called him. Normally hearing his special ringtone for you would make you smile, but he looked at his phone like it was a weapon aimed at him. The call went to voicemail. Jisung and Chan both looked at him when he ignored the call. “Yah! You know who that is! Pick up!” Jisung said, half laughing through his words. The comments began to ask who it was and why their ringtone was a special song. 

“Changbin only has one special ringtone set. It’s for the person who he sees the most.” Chan said laughing. You called once more. “Come on, pick up.” You muttered under your breath. Sighing, Changbin picked up the phone. You watched as he put on a strained fake smile for you, knowing you would be able to hear it in his voice. 

“Hey, sweetie! What’s up?” 

“Seo Changbin don’t you pull this bullshit with me.” 

You watched as his eyes went wide, clearly not expecting your answer. “What do you mean?” He said pulling that fake smile again. Jisung and Chan poked and laughed with each other while Changbin spoke to you. “Binnie, I know you are putting on a fake smile pretending that you are okay when you are actually not so cut the shit.” Had you not been worried about your boyfriend you would have found it funny to watch his eyes grow even wider and look around the conference room they were in like you were hiding somewhere. “How did you know?” Changbin asked bewildered.

“I’m watching the live, babe.” “Oh.” He scratched the back of his neck and motioned for the other boys to keep talking. You watched as Changbin walked off screen still on the phone. “Binnie, what’s wrong?” He sighed over the phone. “Nothing. I just saw this comment. It’s fine.” You would have given anything to be able to hug him right at that moment. “No. Fine is not acceptable. Changbin whatever that comment said is wrong.” He scoffed over the phone.

“You don’t even know what it said, babe.” “Okay, what did it say?” Changbin let out another sigh. “Something about me stealing everything BTS are writing and that our music wasn’t good. They said that there was no use in me writing for Stray Kids if all I was going to write was crap.” It was your turn to scoff. “Well. Both you and I know that is far from the truth. Seo Lewis Changbin you are one of the most talented producers and men that I have ever known and will ever know.” 

There was silence on the other side of the line for a moment. “I love you, Y/n.” “Yeah, I know. I love you too. Why don’t we go get boba after I finish up studying?” He quickly agreed and ended the call. It made you smile to see Changbin reappear on screen, a huge grin from ear to ear.

Hyunjin:

You were running late. Very late. This was one of the biggest concerts in your boyfriend’s career and you were late. Usually, you would have met him at the fan meet before the concert, but your meeting ran over an hour longer than it was supposed to. Rushing home you changed and threw on some nicer makeup before driving slightly over the speed limit to reach the stadium on time.

You arrived just on time and moved to your seat in the second row. A few STAYs recognized you and were very kind and polite. They asked about how your studies were going and if Hyunjin was taking care of himself. You really loved how much they cared about him. Soon the show started and you were screaming the boys’ names with the other fans. The concert was going well. Except for the fact that Hyunjin was really out of it. 

He seemed to be completely avoiding the right side of the stage and when he glanced over in that direction he got this look on his face. You could tell something was wrong. After Hyunjin almost tripped and fell during District 9, you knew something was up. “Hey, where are you going?” A fan beside you asked while they were finishing up a song. “I’m just going to go to the restroom.” You said giving her a smile. She nodded and promised to keep your seat. 

You moved to the right side of the stadium and showed your ID to the staff who led you down a hall to the backstage. Their manager greeted you with a smile and quickly gave you a pass so no one would bother you. “Is everything okay?” He asked over the music. “Hyunjin seemed a little off to me. Is he alright?” You questioned as he leaned over to hear you. He nodded. “He seemed a little upset after the fansign, but he told me it was nothing.” You trusted their manager. He always took good care of the boys. However, you knew Hyunjin. He would say anything for the staff to let him perform. 

“They have a ten minute break before the next set. Hyunjin has fifteen since the dance unit is second.” “Thank you.” Not a moment later the boys started exiting the stage, stylists and staff rushed to them giving them water and wiping them down. Quickly they ushered the boys to the dressing room and you followed. 

“Y/n!” Minho cheered when he saw you. Several of the boys were shirtless, changing for the show, but they didn’t really care if you saw, neither did you. Minho gave you a hug and then passed you onto Felix and Jisung who in turn wanted hugs as well. “Go get dressed guys. You are doing great!” Your eyes found your boyfriend slipping off the first shirt and picking up one a stylist handed to him. “Hyunjin,” He turned at the sound of your voice. 

He dropped the shirt on the couch and ran to hug you. “It is so good to see you.” He whispered into your neck. Hyunjin still had cold sweat dripping down his neck. “Hyunjin, darling, what’s wrong?” You said cupping his face. You could see it in his gorgeous dark eyes. There was no light behind them today. Hyunjin sighed, shaking his head. “Why don’t you change, and then we will talk?” Slowly he nodded taking the shirt from his stylist again. They touched up his makeup and then he sat down on the couch, his head in his heads. 

“Jinnie, tell me what’s wrong.” He shrugged as you took his hands in your yours. “Did something happen at the fansign? A flash of hurt passed through his eyes as he looked at you. “Something did happen. Didn’t it?” He nodded glancing over at the other boys who were busy getting water and prepping for the next number. “There was a girl. She was one of the last ones. She gave me a signed petition of people wanting to kick me out of Stray Kids.” A hand went to your mouth in shock. You couldn’t imagine how Hyunjin must be feeling right now.

“She said that the boys only need me for the promotion visuals. She called me a useless pretty face.” The look on Hyunjin’s face made you want to cry. “She’s right there. On the front row in the right section.” Hyunjin buried his face in his hands. Wrapping your fingers around his wrists you pulled his hands away from his face. Slow tears were running down it. “Hyunjin, you are not just a pretty face. You are so much more than that. I love you because you are kind, and funny, and you dance with me in the living room, and you clean the dished when I don’t want to, and you have the biggest heart.” He chuckled and wiped away his tears.

“Really?” “Really.” He felt reassured when you kissed him. “I was talking to some of the girls around me before the concert and do you know what they said?” He shook his head and looked me in the eyes, curious. “They said: ‘Is Hyunjin resting well?’ ‘Please make sure he eats.’ ‘How is Hyunjin oppa? Please take care of our Hyunjin.’“ Hyunjin let out a small laugh, his eyes turning into cute crescent moons. “Real STAY love you. They want you to be well. So do the boys and I.” You placed kisses all across his knuckles, making him smile again. 

“You don’t have to go back out if you don’t want to. The boys wouldn’t mind. You come first.” “No, no. It’s okay. I want to go back out.” Hyunjin said taking your hands in his. “I want to go for STAY.” You nodded, pushing a stray hair away from his face. “I’ll be backstage if you need me.” After kissing your cheek the two of you got up and went backstage to wait for Hyunjin’s next number. He felt better knowing you were only a few feet away if he needed you.

Jisung:

Your phone read almost four in the morning. You looked up at the building you knew your boyfriend was still in, JYP Entertainment. It wasn’t unusual for him to come home late or even stay at the dorm every once in a while, but he would always call you or at the very least send you a text. This was different. Jisung hadn’t been home for almost a week. Worried for his health Chan had sent you a message a couple hours ago saying Ji hadn’t come home the past two nights. 

You heard someone playing the piano in one of the boy’s studios as you made your way down the hall. They were playing the same chord over and over again, adding different endings to it, occasionally hitting a sour note. It didn’t surprise you when the sound was coming from Han’s studio. Carefully you opened the door and looked inside. 

Jisung sat the piano, notebooks, and sheet music strewn across almost every surface. He looked terrible. His brown hair was a mess and his clothes were wrinkled. Jisung slammed his fist down, making you jump at the sound of the keys. Defeated he held his head in his hands, soft cries shaking his shoulders. The sight broke your heart. You knew more than half of what the public saw was a confident front that Jisung put up to keep up with the other guys.

He jumped when your hand came to his shoulder. Quickly he wiped his eyes and sat up straight again, looking back at the keyboard and lyrics. “Y/n! What are you doing here? Don’t you have work?” It was clear he didn’t want you to see him at the moment. “Ji, baby, it’s four in the morning,” He paused before checking his watch.

“You should be asleep, you have a class at eight.” His words tugged at your heartstrings. Even through all this pain he was pushing down, he still kept up with your life and made sure you were taking care of yourself. 

“Jisung,” Letting out a shaky breath he glanced at you, but soon resorted to shuffling the papers around, trying to clean up his mess. “Jisung, it’s Saturday.” He stopped and you could see the gears turning in his head. His gorgeous brown eyes looked dull and had heavy bags underneath them. “When was the last time you slept?” You asked cupping his jaw, trying to get the man to look at you. 

“I can’t sleep. Not when I keep thinking about everything. I need to finish this anyway. I have a deadline.” You knelt down beside his chair looking up at him. “Thinking about what?” Jisung looked away, the soundproofing on the walls becoming very interesting to him. “Ji, you can tell me anything. I’m with you now, okay? It’s okay.” He broke, letting the tears stream down his cheeks. “Oh, Jisung.” Immediately, you wrapped him up in your arms. He held onto you like you were the only thing tying him onto this earth, this life. 

“Hyung told me not to read them anymore. But it’s just so hard not to.” You knew exactly what he was talking about. It made you cry as well to think that those terrible comments and anti-fans were affecting your boyfriend this much that he felt he couldn’t talk about it. “They just keep getting in my head. They were even at the fansign yesterday.” You threaded your fingers through his soft hair as he cried into your neck. At some point, Ji had pulled you up to sit on his lap so he could hold you even tighter. “This girl-she wouldn’t even let me touch her album. She told me that I didn’t deserve to be with the boys and that I was just dragging them down. She told me to-” 

He just cried harder held you tighter. “She’s wrong, Jisung.” You tried to think of a way to comfort the man you loved in your arms as you ran your fingers through his hair, in hopes of calming him down. “The boys love you. Real STAY love you so much. I love you more than you could ever imagine. Look at me,” Slowly he pulled away from my neck, eyes red and breath short from crying. 

Jisung stared into my eyes waiting as I looked at him. “You are not alone. I’m going to be here. With you. Always. You understand?” Another slow tear ran down his cheek but he gave me a small smile and nodded. “Please come home, Jisung.” He nodded once again and wiped his eyes before giving me a soft kiss, letting me feel his gratitude and love.

Felix:

You rolled over in bed, expecting for Felix’s warm arms to wrap around you sleepily. Cracking open your eyes, you saw his side of the bed was empty. “Felix,” You called out, thinking maybe he got up to go to the bathroom or something. The clock on his nightstand blared almost two in the morning in bright red numbers.

Throwing on a big shirt from your closet, your bare feet padded across the cold wooden floor of your apartment. After knocking on the bathroom door you entered to see an empty room. “Lix?” You knew he came home last night. You distinctly remember going to bed early with him next to you. Maybe he went to get a glass of water?

Opening your bedroom door you saw a light in the kitchen was on. Your boyfriend was sitting in front of his laptop at the counter his head in his hands. Even from a distance, you could see that Felix was looking at Twitter.  Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around Felix’s waist making him jump.

“Y/n, what are you doing up? It’s late; go back to bed.”

You could just barely make out the tiny sniffles he was trying to hide from you as he stroked your arm, still around his waist. “Darling, what’s wrong?” You asked quietly, kissing his shoulder. “Nothing! I’m fine! Don’t worry, y/n. Go back to bed.” You sighed. Felix almost never called you by name. Especially when you were alone. Glancing over you read a couple of the tweets on screen.

omg Felix is so obviously gay it makes me want to puke

I’d honestly rather eat shit than have Felix get more lines this comeback

Lee Felix more like Lee FAILURE. Can’t you guys see he is bringing the rest of the boys down? #fuckoff  

JYP should have gotten rid of Felix in the survival show. His gay untalented ass didn’t deserve to come back

Turning you finally saw Felix’s face. He had slow silent tears running down his cheeks. He wiped them away when he saw you looking. “Felix-” “I’m fine!” He said quickly closing the laptop. All you could do was wipe away the still flowing tears. “You are obviously not.” Felix just dropped his head onto your shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?” Dejectedly he shook his head.

“Felix, do I need to call Chan?” 

“No! No! I’m fine. Really. Don’t wake up hyung.”

His eyes went wide and he gripped your arm, keeping you in front of him. “Okay, I won’t.” Your hand went up to his cheek again, wiping away some drying tears. “By the way everything they said was false and you know it.” Your boyfriend nodded but still didn’t look convinced. He let out a sigh when you kissed him gently. Felix’s tears had finally come to a stop when you pulled away, but he still looked beaten down.

“Stay right here,” Lix did as you asked, rubbing his tired eyes. Exhausted from schedules that day and from crying, your boyfriend watched as you made tea for the both of you. Felix trudged his way behind you as you walked back to your shared bedroom. The two of you sipped on tea and whispered to each other about random thoughts that came to mind. Soon the two of you fell asleep in each other's arms. Felix fell asleep first listening to you whisper how much you loved him. You felt comforted in the fact that he was alright now and could finally sleep peacefully, his heart and mind at rest.

Seungmin:

Your last class had ended maybe an hour ago. Now you couldn’t wait to go and see your boyfriend. The two of you had made plans earlier in the week to hang out at the dorms tonight. The bus ride over was uneventful, you listened to Stray Kids’ new song and marveled in Seungmin’s vocals. How did you get so lucky? Not wanting to get caught, you went through the back entrance of the boys’ dorm and climbed the stairs.

The sound of your knuckles on the wooden door echoed in the empty hall. The door opened to reveal Hyunjin. “Y/n?” The shock on his face surprised you. Seungmin always let the boys know when you were coming over. Not that they minded. “Hi, Hyunjin! Seungmin and I were going to hang out tonight.” He nodded and glanced behind him into the apartment. There was a hesitant look on Hyunjin’s handsome face. “Just warning you. He had a bad day. Like really bad.” 

You nodded, completely understanding the meaning behind his words. “I thought he stopped reading those comments.” Hyunjin shook his head, letting me into the boys’ apartment. “We were going through fan mail earlier today. I think he got a couple of bad ones.” A couple of the boys greeted you while you listened to Hyunjin and set your bag down near the counter. “Where’s Han?”

“We were giving him some space. He’s in our room.” The boy pointed down the hall to their shared room. As you approached you heard soft music playing behind the door. Softly you knocked. “Chan hyung, go away.” Again you knocked hearing a sigh and footsteps coming towards the door. “Chan I’m fine! You don’t have to-”

Seungmin’s eyes widened as he saw you standing before him. “Y/n...I totally forgot you were coming I’m so sorry.” Without saying a word you gently moved past him and into the room. You heard the soft click of Seungmin closing the door. “How was class?” “Don’t pretend, Min. Not with me.” His smile fell and his shoulders drooped. Soft music filled the heavy air between you. “Who told you?” Seungmin sighed, collapsing onto his bed. 

“Hyunjin.” Seungmin stared up at the ceiling, his arm behind his head. Taking off your coat, you crawled over to lay next to him. “You want to talk about it?” Seungmin was silent for a moment, instead choosing to wrap an arm around you. “I guess,” You nodded and traced patterns across his chest. “There were just a whole bunch of letters today. They were all saying how untalented I am and how I could never replace Woojin.” You could tell he was angry just by his voice.

“I know they’re just anti-fans and I shouldn’t listen to what they say, but it just hit really hard. We only lost Woojin a month ago and that was already hard enough. Han and I have been struggling to keep up with the new lines and parts. When they said that I was replacing him...it just...”

“It was the last straw?” Seungmin sighed nodding his head. “Yeah. I’m not trying to replace Woojin. I just want to keep making music with the boys. We just work so hard- I work so hard to make good music for STAY and to hear people say things like that really hurts.” 

Seungmin let out another sigh, but this one felt like he was letting go of all the tension and anger he felt. “Thank you for listening. I should have just talked to someone in the first place.” He reached over and kissed the top of your head, making you smile. “You were angry. It’s understandable. I’m always here to listen if you need me.” The two of you laid in the small bed, listening to the soft music still playing in the room, enjoying the newfound calm.

Jeongin:

“Y/n, can you come down to JYPE?” Changbin said over the phone. Thankfully you were seated in the very back of your university class so you could sneakily answer. “Changbin, I’m in class right now.” You heard him sigh over the phone. “Look it ends in like thirty minutes. I can be ther-”

“No, Y/n. You don’t understand. We need you here now.” There was something about the tone of Changbin’s voice. “Okay, I’m on my way. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” Everyone’s head turned as you slammed open the classroom door and ran out. “MS. L/N!” The professor called. You sprinted out to your car and hoped you had enough gas to get you across town to JYP Entertainment. You cursed the amount of traffic as your car came to a standstill in the middle of Seoul. You were about five minutes away from the boys’ building. 

Ding

Picking up your phone you saw a message from Changbin. He had sent you a link to a video. Traffic wasn’t about to start moving anytime soon so you opened it and put your phone in the stand on your dashboard. The link sent you to a press conference with the boys about their upcoming comeback. It looked like it was an open conference so fans were there too. However, instead of talking about the comeback reporters kept on asking Jeongin about our relationship. Some fans were also screaming at him and the boys.

A car horn brought you out of your trance. You hadn’t realized that you were crying while watching the video. Wiping your tears you drove the rest of the way to the building. Jeongin was doing his best to answer the questions politely while still giving us the privacy we wanted. You could tell he was obviously bothered and upset. Chan had tried directing the focus on him but it didn’t work. 

When you arrived Changbin and Chan ushered you inside, pushing past several reporters and photographers. “Where is he?” Chan motioned you towards a room near the dance studio. When you opened the door you were greeted with a dark room. “Innie?” Soft cries could be heard from the other side of the room. Seeing your silhouette before you closed the door, Jeongin rushed over to you and wrapped you in a tight hug. “Are you okay?” He asked cupping your face.

“Jeongin what’s wrong?” He shook his head, looking into my eyes. “It’s just...so hard.” You couldn’t see well in the dark, but from the sound of his voice, you knew he was crying. “Jeongin, talk to me, darling.” He held both your hands in his. “I hate that you are getting all this hate because of me. People are saying all this stuff about us.” You knew he was hiding the fact that ever since your relationship went public he was getting way more hate than usual.

“Hey, Yang Jeongin,” He looked up at you with sad eyes. You could see he had been holding this in for a long time. “You don’t have to be strong for the both of us. I’m here to do this with you because I love you.” Leaning up you placed a kiss on his forehead. “We can get through this together.” 

“Thank you for being here for me, Y/n.” “Always, Innie.”

Requests are open my lovelies! Just send an ask!

Masterlist

#stray kids reactions #stray kids #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #stray kids preferences #stray kids one shot #stray kids scenarios #stray kids incorrect texts #stray kids incorrect quotes #rubber ducky you're the one #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst imagine #kpop #kpop imagine #kpop reactions #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #han jisung imagines #bang chan imagines #hwang hyunjin imagine #hyunjin imagines #lee felix imagines #felix imagines #jeongin imagines #minho imagines #skz imagines #skz reactions #skz scenarios #seungmin imagines

[theawkwardterrier]

Fake It, Make It

A tropey Steggy Secret Santa gift for the excellent @sagesiren​/@theeleganteuropeanwoman! Wishing you as good an end to 2020 as you can get, and an amazing 2021!!  ✨✨✨

Summary: When Steve tells his mother that he is now dating a woman named Peggy Carter, his mother immediately wants to meet her. Which Steve would, of course, be perfectly happy to arrange, except that he is not in fact dating Peggy Carter (as much as he might want to be).

Read on AO3

Steve’s mother has been a nurse for thirty-three years. She’s familiar with the medical system and its limitations, and she’s a straight shooter even when it comes to her own mortality.

So when her doctor sends her for more tests after her annual physical, she mentions it to Steve during their weekly phone call.

“Dr. Nakhwa is worried,” she admits. “It’s bloodwork and scans now, but it might become something very quickly.”

“What can I do?” Steve asks, immediate and stricken. He had been trying to work on dinner as they talked, and his pot of water roils and hisses without answer.

“I’ll let you know if there’s anything,” she assures him practically, then sighs, quick and heartfelt and without drama. “But if it is something, I’ll just be so sorry for all the things in your life I’ll miss out on. Your first gallery show—”

“Ma,” Steve protests. No one knows his art better than she does - she signed him up for all the free afterschool art classes and every summer camp they could afford, and there are still paintings of his stored in her apartment a decade after he moved out - but he got his practicality from her, started training in carpentry on the recommendation of George Barnes back when he was a teenager and knew that there wouldn’t be money for college. He’s been able to do more custom woodworking lately and word has been getting around about his skill, but he’s accepted that he won’t be making his living off of the fine arts.

Undeterred, his mother says, “Oh, hush, even hobbyists can have dreams. But if you don’t like that, I’d be happy to see you in a relationship instead. It would ease my heart to know that you’ve found someone who can be beside you.”

And because easing his mother’s heart has always been at the top of his priority list, Steve finds himself blurting, “I’ve actually been dating someone. Now. I’m dating someone now.”

“Oh?” she says keenly. “Well, I hope to meet them someday soon.”

Steve coughs. “I’m sure you will.” He hopes that he’s somehow magically become a better liar in the past thirty seconds than he was for the first thirty years of his life.

Seemingly forgetting her earlier seriousness entirely, his mother adds, “What can you tell me about them? Can I have a name at least?”

“Peggy Carter,” Steve says without pause.

Later, he will ask himself why he didn’t just lie. It’s too soon, I don’t want to jinx anything. We made a bet and I’m not allowed to say her name out loud for a week. She’s a spy and I can only tell you her alias. He will berate himself for not just diving for some sort of distracting conversational offramp: the still-boiling pot, the cat yowling down in the alley, “that’s not important now, what else did your doctor say?” But he will never wonder why this was the name which came out of his mouth. He never has to search for it. She’s always on his mind these days.

“Peggy Carter,” his mother repeats. “Well, I’ll be happy to meet her. I’m off two Saturdays from now, if the two of you would like to drop by for a visit.”

His mother is the only blood family he has, that he’s ever even known. He’ll do anything for her. Even, apparently, say yes to this.

His mother’s follow-up scans come back clear. She tells him that in one breath, and tells him in the next that she’s so looking forward to meeting Peggy this upcoming Saturday.

“I don’t want to put this off until the next time I have a health scare,” she says. “And I could tell she’s important to you just by the way you said her name.”

So in his relief at her news, and to his later horror, instead of saying that he and Peggy have broken up, instead of saying that she has an emergency, instead of saying that she’s gone back to England indefinitely and they’ll just have to do it some other time, he says, “We’re looking forward to it to.”

When Steve confesses his predicament, Bucky laughs so hard that he slips off of his stool at Finnegan’s and almost knocks himself out on the bar.

“Could you at least help while you’re doing that?” Steve asks, torn between impatience and desperation, but his best friend just collapses into laughter again.

His mother already knows most of his friends. He supposes he could hire someone, but that seems like it might be taking it a step too far. And anyway, he’s overwhelmingly thankful that his mother is still healthy; it seems ungrateful, a temptation of fate, to give more weight and trickery to the lie.

Which means that there’s really only one thing left to do.

It doesn’t mean he’s relishing the prospect under the circumstances.

(Though he wouldn’t exactly be opposed to it under others.)

He asks Peggy Carter out for what’s probably the strangest date of her life and certainly the strangest of his on Monday, just as they’re finishing their lunch break. The rest of the crew, coolers over their shoulders, is already heading back over to the job site - Morita knocking his knuckles against that hideous brown hard hat of Dugan’s, Jacques explaining something as Gabe leans in - but Steve always does a quick sweep for trash just to make sure they’ve left the area clear. Peggy is heading in the other direction to track down Phillips. The boss is still legendarily prickly, but he doesn’t trust any architect but her these days.

“Peggy,” Steve forces himself to call before she’s disappeared. He wishes that this were just another one of those times that he had called her back for those innocuous, desperate five extra minutes of chatting. “I need to—Would you—Can I ask you a question? A favor, I guess?”

She tilts her head in invitation and he spills the story as quickly as he can, the rip-off-the-bandaid method.

“—and if you aren’t busy on Saturday, I was wondering if you could come over to say hi to her. It wouldn’t have to be for long, but it would make her really happy and I would—I’d really appreciate it. I can’t tell you how much.”

He stuffs his twisting hands into his pockets as he finishes, and pushes back his shoulders, hoping that he’ll still have a bit of dignity even once she’s rejected him. He doesn’t think she’ll be mean about it - he knows who Peggy is, the type of person to hand back hammers to the apprentices who’ve dropped them with a wordless wink, the type who lets someone else pick the takeout place if they’re having a bad day even when it’s her turn - but still, she’s Peggy Carter, and he’s Steve Rogers, the random guy who she knows from job sites and now the time he’d lied to his mother about dating her and then asked her to help him keep up the ruse.

“That certainly is a predicament,” she says instead of any of the gentle letdowns he was imagining. “But I must ask: why did you pick me?” It’s chilly today but bright, and the noon sun glints off her hair. He catches a smile, there and gone again, at the corners of her mouth.

“I said the first name that came into my head,” he tells her honestly, and then, just as honestly, “And I knew that my mother would like you, if you ever happened to meet each other.”

“Hmm,” says Peggy, smile all the way gone now, as if he’s disappointed her somehow. Her eyes are still soft, though. “Well, I suppose it’s quite lucky I am free on Saturday, then.”

“Lucky,” Steve echoes, and tries to figure out whether it’s true.

“You absolutely will not go out in this weather,” his mother admonishes, her arms set in a way that Steve is extremely familiar with.

“I’m certain that the subway—” Peggy starts.

“Of course the subway will be running,” Sarah says with the confidence of a born New Yorker. “Late and jam-packed, announcing that they’re going express any damn time, and there’s no reason for you to be on it.”

Peggy looks over to Steve as if he might step in, but even as he gives her a wide-eyed, helpless shrug, his mother is already leaving the living room and heading down the hall, calling, “I’ll get fresh sheets for you two, Steve, but please find Peggy something to wear.” (Sarah Rogers is surprisingly strong, but she’s also rail thin and an extremely charitable five foot two, and Peggy is...not. Something Steve has absolutely no complaints about, to be frank.)

They’ve told his mother that they’ve been seeing each other for nearly six months - Steve mostly left that part of the storytelling up to Peggy, who managed to spin something that had enough details to seem plausible but wasn’t so elaborate that Steve had felt bad about misleading his mother with a fairy tale. But even if their relationship was real, there’s no reason to assume that they would have spent the night with each other, that they would be comfortable sharing a bedroom.

“I’ll sleep out here,” Steve says immediately and with vehemence.

Peggy casts her eye over the couch, more of a loveseat really; the living room is too small for much else. “Will you be removing your head or your feet to fit, then?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

Voice low to avoid his mother’s uncanny hearing, he says, “This whole day has already been more than you agreed to. I don’t want to force you into a situation that would make you uncomfortable.”

“I would say the same as it regards you,” she responds. “And if I was uncomfortable with the situation, I believe I would be the first to know. Now, I think I was promised something to sleep in?”

The collection of clothes he keeps at his mother’s is small, but he manages to dig up a large T-shirt and a pair of flannel pants for Peggy and the same for himself. She smiles at him, leaving to change, and he takes the opportunity to do the same before turning to put the sheets his mother had found on the beds, faced head-on with the reminder of the close quarters of his bedroom.

There isn’t much to see: his bed, the tiny closet, a dresser. He used to do his homework at the kitchen table because there wasn’t room for a desk. His bed frame had been a gift representing several birthdays and a Christmas as well, back in elementary school. Every other weekend, he would slide the trundle bed out, gleeful to finally have a chance to have sleepovers with Bucky somewhere other than in sleeping bags on the living room rug. The pull-out had used up all the extra floor space and he’d had to crawl off the end of the bed to use the bathroom in the middle of the night, but when he and Buck were telling each other scary stories quietly enough that his mother wouldn’t hear or reading comics under the covers, taking turns holding the shared flashlight, what had it mattered?

It definitely seems to matter now.

He stares at the two beds, tucked compactly side by side, and realizes that soon he and Peggy are going to be lying in them. Even if he pushes them as far apart as possible, it would be barely two inches before the dresser got in the way. No matter what, their hands could touch across that gap. If she’s a mobile sleeper, they could end up practically curled around one another…

He scrubs a hand vigorously over his face, mussing his hair and probably leaving him red-cheeked, but gathering himself. He makes both beds with care, returning to the linen closet to add top sheets, comforters, and light blankets too; he has no idea how Peggy likes to sleep.

The thought leaves him wide-eyed once again, but it’s too late to force his thoughts elsewhere. Peggy knocks just then, and he tells her to come in, hoping that his voice sounds normal as he does.

“I should have gotten you a toothbrush,” he says immediately upon seeing her, ready to scramble over and take care of it, but she waves a hand.

“Your mother gave me one. She also added my clothing to a basket of laundry she was taking downstairs so I would have ‘something fresh to wear in the morning.’ She wouldn’t hear any protests.”

As if she couldn’t have already figured it out from everything else today, Steve says, “She’s like that.”

“Yes,” Peggy says, thankfully amused. “I assumed.” She turns to the beds and asks, “Now, which would you like?”

Which one he’d like? He can’t think of anything that could matter less. He lists for her the pros and cons of each bed with the care usually reserved for life-changing decisions. She follows along seriously, though he recognizes the touch of humor around her mouth.

Ten minutes later, he is lying on the trundle, and she has her back to him as she examines the spines of the books on the small shelf mounted beside his bed.

She has washed her makeup off and her hair is in a single, simple braid. He’s heard the guys on the crew refer to certain women as “unbelievably beautiful.” Peggy isn’t that. She looks exactly as pretty right now as he had imagined she would, exactly as pretty as she does in her jeans and sensible blouse and Day-Glo vest on the construction site, or the time he had seen her dressed up in a gown for some awards gala, or when he had picked her up that morning and saw her wearing that red sweater with a black pencil skirt and felt lucky just to be walking next to her.

Still, he does find looking at her just now a bit hard. Difficult, he amends quickly, shoving the word hard away. She’s somewhat difficult to look at like this, unraveled and lovely.

“How fantastically minded you were,” she comments, smiling over her shoulder before flipping over to face him. “Is this still the sort of thing you like to read?”

“I usually end up with a bit of everything,” he admits. “But yeah, there’s some great sci-fi and fantasy being written these days.”

“It can be nice,” she says, “visiting other worlds.”

“It can be,” he agrees, not telling her that that’s what today has felt like: however awkwardly, unconventionally attained, it’s been like a brief, wonderful visit to another world.

They were only meant to stay for brunch.

“Don’t cook anything,” he had begged his mother. She was always covering shifts for other people, running errands for neighbors when she wasn’t working, on her feet all day regardless. Having a day off where she hadn’t already scheduled sixteen things was something of a miracle, and he was going to force her to take advantage of it. “I’ll cook.”

Voice somewhat insultingly skeptical down the phone, she’d said, “So, do you already know that this woman has a cast-iron stomach, or are you looking to poison a guest in my home, Steven Rogers?”

In the end, they’d agreed that he would take care of picking up fresh bagels from their favorite place. Of course, when Steve and Peggy arrived, his mother had already set out lox, cut fruit and vegetables, hard boiled eggs, and about six different types of cream cheese.

“You promised not to make anything,” Steve said irritably, giving his mother a hug.

“I promised not to cook,” she corrected. “Boiling a few eggs isn’t cooking. Even you can do that, after all.” And Peggy laughed from beside Steve and stepped forward to introduce herself.

Steve had promised Peggy that they wouldn’t stay longer than a couple of hours, and so at exactly 1:30 he glanced noticeably at his watch and asked if she needed to go to “that other thing you had scheduled.”

“Thankfully not,” she smiled, finishing her piece of crumb cake (his mother swore she just happened to have it left over). “I postponed it, and I’m certainly happy that I did.”

And despite the situation, Steve was happy too - happy that she’d come, happy that she stayed. She and his mother traded stories about their respective jobs, lamenting that even though they were of different generations and worked in completely different fields, one with women as the majority and one with them in the minority, they had so many of the same experiences: dealing with stressed or snappish or condescending people, having their knowledge and authority questioned, and managing to get enormous, important work done skillfully anyway.

“I still love it,” Peggy had said as they moved from the kitchen table to the living room. (Steve barely thought about taking the seat beside Peggy, and then started overthinking why he hadn’t considered more.) “Despite everything, I wouldn’t want to be doing anything else.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” said Sarah, voice already fond, as if she’s known Peggy more than a few hours. “I wouldn’t either.”

They’d talked about how Steve had taken shop class in high school - a few knickknacks he’d made were even still scattered around the apartment for his mother to show off; when she’d passed one over to him, even though he recognized its amateurishness, he felt a tenderness fill him, as if he was holding the hand of a younger version of himself. When he passed it to Peggy, he felt the gentleness of her hand on it too.

Later, he would realize that it was a bit suspicious for him to talk about how he’d gone from an A- in Shop to a carpentry apprenticeship to starting to work with Phillips’s general contracting company: surely if they had truly been dating, they would have talked about it all at some point before. But in the moment all he saw was the flicker in her eye as she told him that, oh, she certainly remembered his first day working with the crew.

It wasn’t that they didn’t notice the weather turning - the first flakes fell as the light began dimming low and gray toward evening - it was only that they were a bit busy making hot drinks and setting up the Trivial Pursuit board. This was probably how Steve would have been spending his afternoon regardless, but he watched Peggy carefully for signs that she was eager for an escape and simply too polite to say so. He even leaned over when his mother excused herself briefly and asked whether she was sure she still wanted to stay, to which she had responded, “I’ll almost certainly have my sports and leisure wedge after my next turn. Why in the world would I leave?”

When Steve went downstairs to retrieve the Thai takeout they had ordered, he did see that it was getting pretty messy outside. The wind had a bite to it, too, so he gave his order of miso soup to the man who’d delivered the food alongside the tip, and decided to see if there was an extra pair of boots around for Peggy to use later.

But after they’d finished with their dinner and watching The Sound of Music, which had been just starting as they’d flipped through TV channels, his mother had turned to the nine o’clock news, saw how hard the snow was coming down, and refused to be persuaded that a change in footwear would be enough. Truthfully, Steve would probably have stayed without question if he had been by himself, but the fact is that he came with Peggy. Peggy, who had stayed long past the anticipated two hours. Peggy, who he was not actually dating. Peggy, who he was now meant to sleep beside.

“I’m sorry for the early night,” he apologizes again as they lie together in the darkness with the radiator hissing slightly. Not realizing how things would turn out today, he had scheduled a 9 A.M. consult with a couple who were looking to have some built-in bookshelves added and he has be up early enough to bring Peggy home and get back to his apartment to change before heading into Manhattan.

“It’s no trouble,” she assures him again. “There’s nothing at all the matter with getting a good night’s rest.”

“And I’m sorry again about everything. About how today turned out, and for getting you into it into the first place.”

“Oh Steve,” she sighs. “Will you shut up about that, please?” and even though her tone lacks sharpness, the words are enough for him to flip over toward her in surprise. “I truly enjoyed myself today. And I would have come even if you had simply asked me without any sort of exceptional circumstances.”

“What do you—?”

“I liked meeting your mother. She’s nothing at all like mine, which perhaps is why I appreciate her so much. I liked sitting around and talking, playing games and eating good food and singing along with Julie Andrews, and I liked spending time with you.” Her voice dips even softer. “I liked it all, and I would have come anyway, if you had only asked.”

With the cloud cover and the snow still coming down, the window lets in little light. He can’t make out her expression, can’t see if she’s just saying things out of tiredness, or reminiscing about a pleasant afternoon, or if she might just be hinting at something which would justify the elevated beating of his heart.

He nearly thanks her for being a good friend, but somehow, the way that she’s turned onto her side to face him as well, an invitation, makes him breathe in and say, “But you’re Peggy Carter. I don’t know why you would have bothered.”

“Is that what you think of me?” she asks. He’s never heard her voice with that twisting edge to it and it takes a moment for him to recognize it: hurt. “That I’m some high and mighty miss, and I would never deign to even look at the likes of you?”

“No!” he says, not frantic, hard and simple and factual, trying to make her see. “It’s just that you’re Peggy Carter,” he repeats. “There are probably a dozen awards on your shelves. I’ve seen you skewer guys with a half dozen words for propositioning you, then get right back to work. Phillips doesn’t like anyone except his dog, but he turns down projects if you aren’t going to be working on them. You wanted to design buildings and you made that happen for yourself. You’ve worked on dozens of projects and they’re all different but I’ve wanted to stay in each one, even the offices.” His voice doesn’t drop as he continues, even as he half hopes that his words will be lost in the pillow beneath his head. “You’re creative and determined and gorgeous and fascinating and funny. Just talking to you should be any thinking person’s favorite thing. And I’m only a guy.”

She inhales deeply through her nose, as if she is trying to keep her temper somehow, but when she speaks, her voice is calm. “When there are novices on a job, you’re the one who helps them through their nerves and shows them the right way to do things. Other women have told me that they like to work on the same site as you because they know you would never make them uncomfortable and you’ve fought anyone who tried. After an evening out, you give your share of the tip and then stay behind and add a bit extra. You do it every time, Steve. I’ve watched you.”

“Anyone could—”

“The first day I met you,” she interrupts, “you introduced yourself to Mr. Jarvis. Most people don’t, you know. They’re too busy noticing Howard to even pay attention. The day after, you brought soup for Ana because you had heard she was ill. I don’t know anyone else who would have done that, bring soup for someone who he’d never met, the wife of the electrician’s admin he’d only known for a day.” Even with the hiss and clank of the heating, he thinks he can make out every dimension of the breath she takes in before she adds, low and direct, “You’re loyal and sharp and kind, you make wonderful art and adore your mother, and you’re so upstandingly moral I half expect you to ride into work one day on a white steed. Had you not kept moving away every time I tried to get near, I would have asked you out long ago. And if you had asked me all the way back then, before I knew anything else, I would have said yes too, just because of the soup.”

It’s been three years since he started working with Phillips, three years of watching from across construction zones as she cut stubborn men down to size with a sharp word (or her fist if necessary), of lingering at lunch for the chance to see her smile or hear her opinion on current affairs or some article that they had both read. All that time of thinking that she would never possibly consider him more than a friend, and she already had.

“Can I—” he starts, his hand moving tentatively into the tiny space between their beds. She catches his fingers with hers and lifts them to her mouth, placing a delicate kiss on the backs of his knuckles. His breath comes sharply into his lungs.

He has, a time or two thousand, pictured some imaginary world where she might kiss him one day. This isn’t at all how he envisioned it in any of those dreams - they were never in side-by-side twin beds at his mother’s house, for one thing.

Nothing in him cares.

When she says goodbye to him the next morning, his mother gives him an innocent smile and a reminder to drop by a Duane Reade for chapstick and...anything else they might need. He almost tells her that they were only kissing, but doesn’t think it will help. Besides, he was trying to avoid embarrassing details by stripping the beds before she woke up so she wouldn’t notice that the sheets had only been truly mussed on one.

(He wouldn’t have been expecting that sleeping in a narrow bed with Peggy half sprawled on top of him would be wonderful, but he’ll be the first to admit that he isn’t right about everything.)

Exactly fifty-one weeks later, his mother asks him how he and Peggy are celebrating their anniversary. He’s halfway through telling her before he realizes that she’s not supposed to know that it’s their anniversary at all, that she’s still meant to think they’ve been together a year and a half already.

“As if you’ve been able to lie to me once in your life, Steven Rogers,” she says with a laugh. “You said her name and I knew that you weren’t telling me the whole truth the same moment I knew that she meant something to you anyway. Now tell me about the ring.”

“How did you—?”

He has the feeling she’s waving a dismissive hand on her end of the phone. “Nothing in the world easier than reading you, sweetheart.” Her tone turns a bit thoughtful. “Peggy, on the other hand, she’s a bit harder. But even that first time you brought her here, I could tell. When the time comes for you to ask, she’ll say yes.”

She’s right.

#steggysecretsanta #Steggy fic #Steve Rogers #Peggy Carter #sagesiren

[pudding-head-kenma]

Keep quiet, or don’t [ Sugawara x Reader ]

⤔ request: Suga x reader smut

⤔ warnings: swearing, fingering, public, uhh getting caught (?)

⤔ a/n: everyone say thank you to ana and tsu for convincing me to post this because i was embarrassed lmao. also, if you don’t think sugawara is a kinky bastard you’re WRONG

*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*

Despite what everyone else seems to think, you know your boyfriend is not an innocent man.

As the vice-captain of the volleyball club, he tends to show himself as soothing and gentle. He acts like the type of person you can trust, the type of person who helps you during your time of need. He shows his sweeter, softer side, helping the other team members and taking good care of the younger players.

Outside of the club, however, Sugawara becomes a completely different person.

You can’t exactly remember where it started – as first years, at the beginning of your relationship, he was always the shyer one out of the two of you. Holding hands proved to be an issue, and he could barely look at you after the first time you kissed. As second years, at a solid stage of your relationship, he remained the shyer one. You fondly remember the first time you two were intimate, and you almost want to laugh at the little freak out you remember him having. You don’t remember when, but sometime during the end of your second year and the beginning of your third, Sugawara had changed.

He had become bolder, had grown confident in himself. Most relevant to the point, however, was the fact he had become more experimental. It started simple, and slowly but surely the two of you were drifting away from your usual routines. By now, you could almost perfectly tell which mood your boyfriend was in. If he came back exhausted from practise, he would usually revert back to how he used to be, and you’d be more than happy to deliver with sweet kisses and praises as he held your waist and stared into your eyes. During those times, both of you were quiet, Sugawara being the most vocal out of the two of you, with his choked up moans and grunts.

But there were a few other sides to him, too.

Sometimes, your boyfriend would come back frustrated. There wasn’t always a common reason – it varied from losing a game, doing poorly at practise, getting into an argument with someone, and so forth. During these moods, he would be rougher. He would easily take the lead, usually shoving you against a nearby surface and taking out his frustrations in the most pleasurable way to both of you. In these moods, you were the most vocal out of the two of you. The only sounds leaving his lips would be quiet grunts, contrasting with your high pitched moans. While he sounded almost completely unbothered, you sounded like a mess. He liked that.

There was a third mood. Out of all of them, this was definitely the rarest one. You wouldn’t exactly say that Koushi is a jealous man – he might have his moments, but most of the time he’s very trusting and easy going. You’ve nearly been dating for three years, so he won’t dare doubt the foundation of trust you’ve built your relationship on. That doesn’t mean he never gets jealous, though. From time to time, he gets fed up. He’s used to you being hit on – much like Kiyoko and Yachi; you hang out around the team a lot, and this means you’re at most of his official and practise games. That being said, it’s inevitable that one guy or another will come talk to you. During practise matches, the best way he can get around it is to wrap an arm around you as you walk inside, to make it clear that you’re taken. During games, he’ll be sure to kiss you in front of the audience, so that when you’re out of his reach cheering for him most people would have noticed it.

Today there was absolutely no way to get around it – Tanaka just really messed up.

Now, you’ve both been friends with Tanaka since he joined the team, during his first year. So, more than anyone, you’re used to his playful flirting. He’s very respectful of your relationship with Sugawara, especially after being glared at a few years ago when you first met him, by a very pissed off Koushi.  That being said, it’s just in his nature to be playful – he knows you’re dating, but you’re also his friend, so it’s not uncommon for him to joke around and ‘flirt’ with you from time to time.

Most days, your boyfriend lets it slide and laughs along. He knows his friend means no harm, and he has never complained to him so Tanaka himself doesn’t see it as harmful either. It’s simple things, really, easily passed off as friendly interaction – sometimes he’ll wrap an arm around your shoulder and loudly mock Sugawara right in front of his face, other times he’ll just tell you that you look pretty that day. You’ve gotten used to it, though it may have bothered you in the beginning. Nowadays, you find yourself playing along once or twice. A cheeky ‘I know, right?’ when he’s mocking your boyfriend, or wrapping an arm around his waist while you’re walking down the street just messing around. You’re good friends with all of them, even if you’re still getting used to the first years, so it doesn’t mean anything.

Today was different. While out on a walk, a player from another team had recognised you from a previous practise match and had jogged over to talk to you. He seemed dismissive of Sugawara’s presence right by your side, even when he wrapped an arm around your waist to bring you closer to him. This guy was a little persistent, trying to play it off as them needing a new manager... Why on Earth would their manager be from a different school? It made absolutely no sense. Your boyfriend eventually dragged you away from the scene, claiming you had plans – which wasn’t a lie.

As you both walked to Tanaka’s house, he was visibly tense. Normally, you would have whispered sweet words into his ear, would have reassured him that he had nothing to worry about. But you sensed it would only aggravate the situation. Besides, you’re going to movie night with the guys anyway, just the second and third years, so he’ll end up cooling off and enjoying the night. Soon, this would all be a faraway memory.

Or so you thought.

It really wasn’t Tanaka’s fault. In retrospective, Sugawara knows that. It wasn’t your fault, either. The timing was just off. When you stepped into the house and had Tanaka wrap an arm around you and playfully say ‘The pretty one’s here!’, you knew the evening wouldn’t magically get better. And if you weren’t sure, the look on Sugawara’s eyes was enough to assure you that he was pissed off.

The first indication that this bad mood wasn’t going away was when Tanaka left your side to wrap an arm around your boyfriend instead, poking fun at his frown. His arm was shoved off. The second year was a little surprised, but Koushi was quick to take action – he offered a gentle smile.

“It’s your fault, you know? You totally wore me out at practise. Don’t put weight on my shoulders like that!” He scolded in a playful tone, though you could definitely tell that was a complete lie. In all honesty, he had only wanted to say the first few words, but he knew his friend wouldn’t understand where his frustration was coming from.

The second indication came quickly as well. As you were heading to the living room to get settled on the couches for the movie to start, your boyfriend was quick to take the armchair and tug you down next to him before you could even consider sitting on the couch.

“You better not even think about leaving my side tonight.” He whispered against the back of your neck, the words muffled against your skin and far too quiet for anyone else to hear. They were more than enough to have you tense up, though.

You two sat the furthest away from everyone else. Tanaka, Daichi and Ennoshita were sitting on the couch, while Nishinoya and Asahi were struggling to share the loveseat – Asahi and his long legs were struggling to lie down in the position Nishinoya demanded from him, which honestly didn’t even look that comfortable, yet was always claimed the ‘ultimate movie night position’, whatever that means.  

While Ennoshita had grabbed blankets for everyone to share, Tanaka and Nishinoya had managed to pick a movie. Unsurprisingly, despite Tanaka’s fear of ghosts, they had ended up picking a horror movie. Nishinoya had challenged him, and God knows that man would never turn down a challenge so boldly having a go at his manly behaviour.

You were exactly five minutes into the movie when your boyfriend’s grip around your waist loosened. You felt yourself relaxing a bit into him, feeling a bit more at ease. Usually, this meant he had calmed down – that’s good, right? Normally, it would be.

Not today, though.

With his free hand, your boyfriend moved a hand to your inner thigh, squeezing the spot roughly. You let out a loud squeak in surprise, your hands flying up to cover your mouth – it was too late, though, everyone heard you. Against your neck, you could feel your boyfriend smirking, but he remained quiet.

“Geez, Y/N, I know the ghost is kinda ugly but you don’t have to offend him like that. And you call me a coward.” Tanaka spoke up, mocking your sound and playing it off as a joke since the ghost had just showed up on the movie.

“Haha... I just didn’t expect him to show up so soon, okay?”

“If you needed  to come cuddle between Daichi and me, all you had to do was ask. You’re invited too, Suga.” He kidded, knowing your boyfriend also wasn’t a fan of horror movies. He was boldly mocked for being ‘too nice’ to watch films were people got murdered, somewhere during your second year.

He’s really not helping the situation.

As soon as Tanaka’s voice reaches his ears, Sugawara’s digging his nails into your inner thigh – he’s not too rough, but it’s just enough to bring you a rush of excitement. He knows what buttons to push. Still, you’re embarrassed. You find yourself biting at the tip of your tongue to avoid any further embarrassing noises. You’re with friends, for God’s sake! Your boyfriend, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

“Are you embarrassed? I haven’t even done anything.” He’s whispering into your skin again, and you’re certain he can feel how the back of your neck has heated up significantly, shame running over your body. He can’t seriously think you’re doing this, right? You’re not an idiot, you know what he’s trying to achieve.

Before you get the chance to reply, he let’s go of you completely and leans back into the couch. Now you’re confused. It’s like he’s changing his behaviour every two minutes, and you’re getting lightheaded just from trying to keep up. Wondering if perhaps he felt bad, you lean back against him once more and watch the movie for a little, though you’re barely paying any attention. You can’t help but let your mind wander – had you read him wrong? Maybe he wasn’t trying to do anything and you got flustered for no reason. Surely Koushi would never do that, right? He wouldn’t try anything in public like this, in front of all of his friends.

So why were you a little disappointed that he didn’t follow through with this idea?

You subconsciously press your thighs together, your heart speeding as you desperately try to mask the various thoughts running through your head.  You find yourself moving around in his lap, trying to find a more comfortable spot. If your movements go by unnoticed by everyone else, they surely don’t go by unnoticed by your boyfriend.

“I thought you were too embarrassed to play, angel.” He teases. You can tell he’s still in a bad mood, from the cocky way he’s speaking and from the way his fingers are ever so gently brushing against your skin, inching up your thigh agonisingly slowly.

“I-” You cut yourself off as you let out a small gasp. Sugawara’s pushing your skirt up to move it out of the way, and suddenly you want to yell at yourself for choosing this outfit specifically. He notices your surprise, and stops moving his hand. Instead, he reaches forward a little to press a kiss to your cheek, a silent question. Despite his jealousy, he would never take it too far with you – he was asking for permission.

And you want to yell at yourself even louder for the fact you didn’t hesitate to nod your head.

He seems pleased with the reply, because it doesn’t take long at all for him to start pressing kisses all over your neck, licking and sucking the skin far too comfortably for someone who’s in a room with all of his friends. You’re mostly covered by the blanket, and everyone but the two of you is paying attention to the movie, but it would only take a glance from any of the other boys for the situation to be really obvious.  

“Stop thinking about them.” Your boyfriend spoke up, and it was a tone you hardly recognised. It wasn’t a request or reassurance – it was an order. The tone was enough to have you squeeze your thighs again, the sudden shift in behaviour intriguing you. It was embarrassing, the tips of your ears were burning up and you had no doubts that you looked flustered, but there was something thrilling about the situation. Your boyfriend’s not happy with the way you’re sitting anymore, so he reaches to grab both of your thighs and roughly spread your legs, manoeuvring you around so you’re exactly the way he wants you. You find yourself unable to object.

“You better keep your legs spread.” He orders again and you’re struggling to keep quiet just from the way he’s speaking. It’s so, so rare for him to get like this. So you nod immediately, knowing better than to question him when he gets into these moods. It’s shameful, really, and the idea of getting caught should probably make you want to stop – but instead, it makes you want to keep going. You can’t help but wonder what would happen if someone noticed the two of you. Your legs tense as you desperately try to keep yourself from pressing your thighs together for the nth time that evening, and you feel yourself shake a little in anticipation as your boyfriend teasingly runs his fingers over your panties.

He’s smirking again, and you find yourself closing your eyes as he sinks his teeth into your skin, nibbling around a particular spot on your neck that has your knees going even weaker – if you weren’t sitting down, you wouldn’t have been able to hold yourself up, no doubt. You know why he’s smirking, too. There’s no doubt in your head that he can already feel how wet you are, and how amusing he finds it – he has barely touched you, after all.

He pushes your skirt further up so it’s completely out of the way before he’s moving your panties to one side, not even bothering to take them off. You shiver, the sudden cold hitting you and making you squirm around ever so slightly. One of his arms wraps itself around your waist, keeping you impossibly close to him so he’s able to keep pressing kisses all over your skin. His free hand moves down, teasing you as he brushes over your thighs and your stomach, yet purposefully avoids touching you where you really need it.

After what felt like an eternity, he takes mercy on you once you let out a small whine, inaudibly to anyone because of the yelling on the television, but loud enough for your boyfriend to get the point. He holds you down as his fingers circle your lips, teasingly moving his finger up and down your slit, and the simple touch is enough to make you shiver. He teases you for another few seconds, trying to see just how far he can push it, and you move your hips slightly, trying to get him to hurry up. For a second, you almost seem to forget your friends right next to you.

But Sugawara isn’t feeling that merciful yet, so as soon as he feels you trying to move he takes his fingers away completely. The barely-there touches were annoying, but having him move away was far worse. You’re about to apologise and tell him you’ll be quiet, but you don’t get a chance as he moves his fingers up and presses them to your lips. You don’t need him to speak, just the look in his eyes is enough to tell you what he wants. You feel smaller under his gaze, and you don’t even spare a glance to the side to make sure nobody’s looking before you’re parting your lips, looking up to meet his gaze. Koushi takes the lead, pressing his thumb against your tongue. You take the hint and stick it out, and he’s quick to rest his fingers on it.

“Go ahead, angel.”

You were waiting for him to speak up, and as soon as he does you’re closing your eyes, slowly moving your tongue around his fingers. You figure this is your one chance to tease him, and you’re so willing to take the risk, but he doesn’t even give you a second to think about it – his nails are digging into your thigh the moment you try to pull away, making a delicious rush of pain run up your spine. You open your eyes and you find him still staring at you, though his gaze has considerably darkened – he’s warning you, and with a whimper you submit to him again.

You suck his fingers into your mouth, greedily lapping up the juices he had collected – if anything, you’re eager for some praise. He doesn’t say anything, just keeps the eye contact and the tight grip around you, until he decides it’s enough and taps your thigh gently – taking the hint, you part your lips again. You spread your legs a little wider, and that has him smirking once again; he’s enjoying every little reaction he can get out of you, and he’s not being very discreet about it.

Your boyfriend wasted no time in pressing a finger against your clit, rubbing it teasingly to distract you before shoving the first finger in. Though you both already knew, that’s when you both confirm just how wet you really are, because it barely feels like enough. He sinks in easily, and you’re subconsciously squeezing around his finger right away, enough to have him groan a little too loud.

You’re just lucky that the movie is louder.

He barely gives you any time to breathe before he’s adding another finger, thrusting them in and out of you at a surprisingly quick pace – he’s usually much more gentle and caring, but he’s obviously still pissed off. You’re barely managing to keep in your moans as he quickens the pace, head thrown back slightly and resting against his shoulder, yet he doesn’t slow down in the slightest. Instead, he reaches his free hand to flick at your clit, and you let out a choked moan.

Tanaka turns to you.

You instantly flush, your cheeks and ears feel too warm, and you’re trying to stand up and move a bit further away from your boyfriend. He scoffs, following your gaze and locking eyes with Tanaka. He’s still moving his fingers despite his friend staring at both of you, and by now you’re not sure who’s more embarrassed – you, or Tanaka. In any case, it’s certainly not Koushi.

“I can’t believe you tightened so much just because he looked.” It comes out as a whisper from your boyfriend, but suddenly you’re far more aware of your own body – fuck. You really don’t feel a thing for Tanaka, but the rush of being caught like that was enough to make you wetter, and have you subconsciously clench around his fingers.

You can’t really tell if your friend has figured out what’s going on, but he seems a bit tense and ends up looking away to awkwardly stare at the movie. Your boyfriend’s still moving his fingers, though he has quickened his pace ever so slightly, scissoring them to stretch you out properly before adding in a third. You can faintly hear the squelching sound and it’s honestly obscene, you can’t help but think anyone else would be able to hear if they just paid attention, and that makes you have to bite back a moan.

“Angel... you’re so wet. Can you hear how wet you are?” He doesn’t need an answer, and that’s obvious from the way he starts speeding up his fingers again, still using his free hand to rub your clit, completely over stimulating you. Your head leans back further, and in order to keep quiet you can’t even think about answering his question, instead just nodding your head as you bite down on your lip in hopes of not letting out any embarrassing noises.

“Who would have thought? What a dirty angel you are, getting wet and spreading your legs near your friends like this. Do you want them to look? Do you want Tanaka to look again?” You lean against his neck to whine against the skin, in hopes of muffling your sounds to everyone else. Despite the rush, you don’t truly want anyone else to look, it’s mostly the idea of it that gets you going. So you shake your head as quickly as you can, and that has your boyfriend chuckling once more.

That seems to be the answer he’s looking for, though, because he starts moving his fingers again. By now, Koushi knows you well – he knows what you like and what you don’t like, and he’s certainly more than capable of finding your sweet spot even in a time like this. As usual, once he finds it, he starts abusing that privilege, and it’s getting harder and harder to stay quiet.

At the corner of your eye, you can see Tanaka shuffle around uncomfortably, unnaturally quiet, and that has you clenching again – He definitely saw, but he didn’t say anything, and you absolutely refuse to even glance his way. Sugawara, on the other hand, is keeping eye contact with him, locking eyes each time he glances over, a warning for him to look away.

It doesn’t take long at all – in fact, it’s almost embarrassing how quickly you’re nearing your orgasm. Your legs are shaking, thankfully still hidden by the blanket, and you’re desperately clinging to your boyfriend in attempts to keep quiet. He’s merciless, thrusting in faster every time you think that’s impossible, and as he flicks your clit you let go, a muffled moan against his shirt, alongside a call of his name.

You’re panting, still holding onto him, and he’s still moving his fingers through your orgasm. He takes mercy on you, however, knowing better than to overstimulate you in a position he can’t take care of you properly, so instead he brings his fingers to your mouth again and waits for you to clean them for him.

He helps you get dressed again, and now that you’re paying more attention you can feel his how hard he is, pressing against you. You almost feel bad. Almost 

He presses a kiss to your temple, a silent request for you not to worry about it – he can always tell what you’re thinking, especially after all these years. So instead, you allow yourself to catch your breath and lean to cuddle up to him.

“You’ll take care of this when we’re alone, angel.”

...

“You guys are fucking disgusting.”

Shit.

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyū!! #hq #hq!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #hq x reader #hq x you #haikyuu smut #sugawara #sugawara kōshi #sugawara koushi #sugawara x you #sugawara koushi x reader #sugawara x reader #sugawara smut #sugawara koushi x you

[corinnesamuels]

Guarding the Gates, Chapter 8: A Fine Gentleman with Questionable Taste in Friends

James has been dreading this moment since he was discharged from St. Mungo’s.

But if he’s honest with himself, he knows that he’s been dreading this for a lot longer—months, maybe even a year before. It’s why he’s never gone through with it. It had been easier to let things continue than deal with the awkwardness and potential drama of a breakup.

That reluctance and hesitation had come at a cost, though, hadn’t it? There was nothing to be done about it now.

James lets this sentiment steel him as he knocks on the door of Miranda’s flat. Their last conversation had been less than pleasant, and he’s prepared for a similar response when she opens the door. But he’s thrown for a loop when she answers with a broad smile, as if seeing him had made her entire day.

“James! Why didn’t you tell me you were getting out of the hospital today? I would have come and picked you up.” Miranda hugs him and kisses him softly on the lips before stepping back to let him inside.

James is stunned. While he hadn’t expected her to be happy to see him, he definitely hadn’t been prepared for her to greet him as if their last conversation didn’t happen. Surely, she hadn’t forgotten—

Oh. He thinks to himself as he registers what’s going on.

It isn’t that Miranda has forgotten their tiff in St. Mungo’s. She’s employing their usual method of working through problems: avoidance.

“Aren’t you going to come in?” Miranda asks. He sighs to himself at her overly casual tone.

That’s exactly what this is.

“Right, sorry.” James says as he walks in. His eyes travel across her flat, immaculately decorated and tidy, as always. A picture of the two of them sat on the mantle. He supposes that they were at some Puddlemere or Ministry-do because of the dress robes they wore. As James watches the two of them pose and smile in the frame, he sees the photographic version of himself pull her in but notices that he doesn’t hold her there. Their doppelgangers don’t laugh or share an inside joke, they don’t gaze deeply into each other’s eyes adoringly, but they do smile at each other, looking happy enough.

That thought, “happy enough,” unsettles him.

“I don’t have much by way of dinner, but it’s a bit early for that anyway. I suppose we could pop into that place near King’s Cross that we’ve been meaning to try.” Miranda says as she walks over to the loveseat and sits, waiting for him to join her.

James takes a deep breath. “I didn’t come for dinner, Miranda.” he says. “We can’t pretend like our last conversation didn’t happen.”

Miranda freezes for a moment before shaking her head with a small laugh. “Oh, that? I’m not worried about that. I know you were probably still in shock from your injuries and the mayhem that had happened that night.” She waves her hand dismissively, but James sees her demeanor falter.

“Miranda, we can’t keep doing this.” He says softly.

“Doing what, James?” she says through gritted teeth.

“We can’t keep pretending like things are okay or that things are working.” He says, sitting down in one of the armchairs across from her. She looks bothered that he doesn’t join her on the sofa, but he knows they need some distance for this conversation. “I know that you see it, Miranda.”

“See what? That you’re throwing away everything that we’ve built?” she asks angrily, crossing her arms and looking away from him.

“What have we built?” He asks. It isn’t forceful or unkind. Just a simple question to which he knows—they know—there is little response.

Miranda sighs heavily but only shakes her head. She still won’t look at him. They sit in silence for a while, and James alternates between watching her and the photograph on the mantle. He almost laughs as he realizes that even in photograph form, the two can only go through the motions. How had he not realized that this wouldn’t have worked?

“Is it her?” Miranda asks finally.

“Miranda—”

“Is. It. Her.” She repeats, forcefully punctuating each word.

“No. This is wholly and totally you and I.” He says, relieved that it’s the truth. This could be so much more complicated if it weren’t. “Things weren’t working before Lily even came back into town. You know this.”

“Yes, well, I thought things were getting better. It seems I was mistaken.” She says crossly.

“Did you think they were getting better, or did you think we had just gotten better at going through the motions?”

Miranda doesn’t respond to this question either.

“Somehow, we’ve been together almost two years, but we barely know each other.” He says. “We’ve learned more about each other in our arguments in these last few months than we ever knew before. Did you know that I had no idea that you and the boys never really got on?”

“Do I need to be chummy with your mates in order to be with you?”

“Yes.” James doesn’t hesitate. “With other blokes, maybe not. But with me, I’d follow them into war. And you aren’t the type to be okay with that.”

“Oh, so you do know me now?” Miranda says, looking away from him again.

James lets out a dry laugh and smirks despite the situation. “That’s one of the things I learned recently.” He pauses and studies her for a moment. James knows that this conversation will be difficult enough without it going south. But he also knows that he owes it to her to consider her feelings in this space. Just because they aren’t compatible doesn’t mean that they need to be harsh with each other in the conversation.

“The reality is that you deserve to be with someone who wants the things you want, Miranda.” James says. “Someone who you have a real connection with, whose priorities are in line with your own. And it’s been abundantly clear for a while now that I’m not that person. We just aren’t that person for each other.”

Miranda runs a hand over her mouth and shakes her head before clasping her hands together tightly in her lap. “We were happy once, weren’t we?” She asks softly, almost imploringly.

“Happy enough, I think.” The phrase has left his lips before he remembers the discomfort it had given him earlier.

Miranda laughs this time, though there’s no mirth in it. “‘Happy enough’ isn’t the same as ‘happy’ though, is it?”

James realizes that this is the crux of the issue. “No, I don’t suppose that it is.” He says. “Do you disagree?”

“Do I disagree with what ‘happy enough’ means, or do I disagree with the idea that ‘happy enough’ is all we were?” she asks.

“Both.” James shrugs.

“No. I don’t disagree.” The façade Miranda maintained during the early part of their conversation has all but fallen away. James notes that this is probably the most honest that they’ve ever been with each other. She begins to grow restless now and stands up to pace the room as an outlet for her nervous energy.

“My parents aren’t discrete about their concerns with me being unmarried at my age.” She says. “They’d assumed that I’d leave Hogwarts engaged and would be a happy housewife by now. When you and I began dating, it got them off of my back. I went through the motions because it was easier than feeling like an old maid.”

“Miranda, you’re not old.” James says disbelievingly. “None of this stuff matters. It’s just old-fashioned nonsense.”

“To you.” She corrects him. “It’s nonsense to you, James. It feels quite real to me.”

James doesn’t know how to respond to that.

“I thought that if we stuck it out, things would be fine. My parents weren’t madly in love when they got together. It was a good match that grew over time.” She shrugs. “And then recently, I thought that if I convinced you not to be so outspoken about whatever is going on with You-Know-Who, that you’d make the time for us to finally settle down and be happy.” She looks at the photograph that had caught his attention earlier, brushing her fingers across it lightly.

“Happy enough.” James says, echoing their earlier conversation.

Miranda gives another mirthless laugh. “Happy enough.”

“We don’t even look at love the same way.” James says, mostly to himself. “This situation being what it is . . . This is on me. I can be honest and say that I didn’t give our relationship full effort until recently, and by then, it was too late. I never cheated on you, not with Lily or anyone else, but I wasn’t quite what you deserved either.”

“And I wasn’t quite what you needed.” She looks at him now, and he sees something in her eyes that he hadn’t seen in some time: understanding. “So, what now?” she asks. “Am I supposed to do the cliché thing and cry and beg you to stay? Say that I can’t breathe without you? Tell you that I’ll pretend to like your mates more than I do?”

“Merlin, no.” James laughs outright this time. “No. I think what we do now is acknowledge that this is the right thing to do, and then I’ll leave. And you’ll find some bloke who will really make you happy. Someone who will go to the fancy events, live a quiet life with you, and be a better partner to you than I could ever be.”

“Let’s hope so.” She replies with a weak smile.

James notes that she looks disappointed, but she doesn’t look at all sad. He takes this as confirmation as he stands and pulls her into one last hug, kissing her lightly on the forehead when she finally returns it. “Goodbye, Miranda.” He says as he grabs his cloak and walks toward the door.

“James.” She calls to him when his hand reaches the doorknob. He turns to look at her, hoping she doesn’t try to talk him into staying. “You may not be leaving me for her, but I know you’re still in love with her. I knew the moment you added her name to your Puddlemere ticket list.”

James doesn’t know what to do with that statement, so he gives her one last nod and half a smile before walking out the door. She was wrong, of course. But correcting her wouldn’t have made the conversation any better. Not when the truth was that he had never taken Lily off of his ticket list in the first place.

Subconsciously, he always hoped Lily would come back, even when he stopped believing that she actually would. Peter had teased him lightly for it, but he wasn’t bothered. If that meant that he was in love with Lily, James didn’t know.

He is pondering over what this might mean when he makes it back to the manor. He waves hello to his father, who is half asleep in his armchair, and walks up the stairs to his room. The exhaustion of the day hits him all at once as he closes the door, causing him to lean his back against it and close his eyes to catch his breath. A flash of fire catches his attention when he opens them.

A red phoenix feather is suspended in the air in the middle of his bedroom, half enflamed, with a note hanging from the bottom.

Read the rest at ao3!

Start from the beginning.

#Goodbye Miranda #James finally gets it right #again #jily #jily fanfiction #jily fanfic #the order of the phoenix #lily is all over the place #first war with voldemort

[babbushka]

Someone Like Him

Flip Zimmerman x Reader

2.2k ; No warnings, just a lot of fluff!

                                                     -------------

If there was one thing true more than anything else about all the reasons you loved him, it was that once your husband had his heart set on something, he was going to accomplish it.

You knew this of course, having been by Flip’s side for so long, but sometimes…well some times it was far more evident than others. Sometimes he displayed such a creative streak of ingenuity, that you wondered just what the extent of that quick-thinking capability was, if there was even a limit to it at all.

The house was completely snowed in. A freak blizzard at the end of March rendering all your plans for the evening useless, namely an early showing at the cinema and lunch from your favorite diner, now all closed from the unexpected weather. Some Fridays, Flip liked to take you out on the kind of dates you shared way back in the early days, the days where he was still too shy to ask to hold your hand.

Now though, now you’ve been together for so long that he takes your hand in his own with ease, palms only a little sweaty. He still takes you on these dates, because he’s a sentimental man, but also because he’s a firm believer that that honeymoon phase never has to end. You agreed.

Get dolled up anyway, Flip had said when the two of you woke up to darkened rooms and a muffled soundscape that morning courtesy of 60 inches of snow, Don’t come downstairs, I’ve got an idea.

That had been hours ago, as noon was now quickly approaching. As the morning had progressed, there were all sorts of sounds of scuffling coming from the downstairs spaces. The kitchen clunked and clanged, furniture dragged against the carpeted floors in the living room, and while you were upstairs debating which string of pearls to wear, you could hear him swearing and cursing up a storm.

You offered the occasional, honey are you alright? To which he replied with a hasty, yeah ketsl don’t come down yet!

But now as noon was on the horizon, the usual time that you and Flip would leave the house for a matinee and milkshake, those noises were coming to an end.

In fact, very soon the only noise was that of a knock on the bedroom door.

“Who is it?” You call pretending to be your mother, like you were a teenager again and Flip was picking you up in his dad’s ’58 oldsmobile.

“Philip Zimmerman ma’am, is (Y/N) home?” Flip asks from the other side of the closed door. You could hear the smile in his voice, could hear how pleased he was that you were playing along.

“She might be.” You respond with a cheeky sort of faux-apprehension, as if you might make things difficult for him.

“Might she be free to spend the day with me? I’ll have her home before dark, honest.” Flip sounds nothing like his younger self, his voice far too deep and resonant, far too confident.

But as you brush a final lock of hair into place and you stand from your vanity, opening the door to reveal your handsome husband makes you nearly emotional, memories of those early dates rushing back to your mind as he stands there with a bouqet of flowers he stole from one of the vases in the dining room.

You grin as he hands it to you, stems still a little wet from the water they had been sitting in, and you take them happily, closing the bedroom door behind you, pressing yourself up against him in the hallway.

“You can keep me as long as you’d like.” You whisper, looking up at him through your lashes as you take a sniff of the beautiful tulips he had presented you.

“I know, but it’s only polite.” He leans in to softly kiss your cheek, a chaste kiss that reminds you very much of how he used to be so worried your family would scold him if he did anything more…salacious while they could potentially see.

“What are you planning, Mr. Zimmerman?” You ask, both a playful continuance of this little game of pretend, but also genuine curiosity at what the hell he’d been up to this whole time.

“I promised my girl a movie and a bite to eat, and that’s what I intend to give her.” He offers you his arm, and you waste no time in linking your through it.

 When he leads you down the stairs, your eyebrows shoot up in an impressed excitement. He really was so creative when he needed to be, wasn’t he? You think to yourself as the living room comes into full view.

He had converted it somehow into a movie theater. Flip had rearranged the couches so that there was a free wall, which he had positioned the loveseat in front of so that the two of you could snuggle up and watch something together. The curtains are all closed, not that it does much as snow covers all the windows, making the room nearly pitch black.

Or at least it would be pitch black, if not for the tea-candles that he had lit in a long aisle, to create something like the strips of lighting in theaters that were used to illuminate the rows of seats.

But the most impressive part to you out of all of this, was the proper film projector that was positioned just behind the loveseat.

“Honey where did you get this?” You ask, setting the flowers back down in the vase Flip had taken them from. You’d never seen this in the house before, and you spent all day every day here! How had he managed to hide it from you?

“One of the guys at the station was getting rid of it yesterday right after work because he said it took up too much space, I thought I’d rescue it from a life at the junkyard – it’s in perfect fuckin’ condition can you believe he wanted to dump it?” Flip shakes his head, as he lit a cigarette and exhaled a puff of smoke.

The smoke caught in the beams of light from the projector as Flip turned the machine on, and you grinned when you saw that he had figured out the distance for it to perfectly fill the large wall.  

“Sure beats turning on the TV, huh?” You tease, so fond of your husband, fond of the way he can see the potential in everything.

“Look I’ve even got some reels.” Flip hoists up a big metal cannister, before turning to you and presenting you with, “Does the young lady want…Top Hat? Or…Top Hat?”

“Hmm, two tickets for Top Hat please.” You take your time deliberating this very difficult choice, and when you give him your answer Flip nods and hmms in agreement, like you made the right one.

“Alright, that’ll be one kiss.” He informs you, and you frown with mock disappointment.

“Only one?” You pout.

But Flip nods anyway, and he sucks down one more puff of his cigarette before setting the cannister down and pulling you into an embrace. He blows smoke out of his nose like he’s some great dragon, and you wind your arms around his broad shoulders, plucking the Camel out from between his teeth and pulling him down for a kiss by the light of the projector.

Your mouth parts for his tongue easily, happily, and you sigh against his lips when they smile against you. He tastes like nicotine and love, and you almost don’t realize how starved you were for his kisses with him being busy all morning, until you’ve got him in your arms once again.

He caresses you while you breathe against each other, while your lips take their fill of one another. One of his hands smooths down your body and clings to the small of your back, the other cupping the nape of your neck and holding you close close close. You smile, and he smiles, smiles so wide that it’s hard to keep kissing him after a while, because you’re chuckling against his lips and his nose keeps nudging yours slightly from silent shakes of his own happiness.

“Keep the change.” You whisper when you finally pull away, the both of you breathing heavy, your eyes closed as you press your foreheads together.

“Could you pop some popcorn?” Flip asks in the quiet of the living room, making you crack up just from the sudden change in mood, and soon he’s laughing too, explaining, “I didn’t want to set the fuckin’ kitchen on fire.”

“Again.” You wink at him, handing him back his cigarette which he happily takes another drag from as he follows you into the kitchen.

“Watch it ketsl.” He gives your ass a little pat and you shimmy your hips at the stove, putting on the Jiffy Pop.

 When the silver bag has all but nearly burst and the projector is playing the soft image of Ginger Rogers and Frank Sinatra, you and your husband curl up on the loveseat. Occasionally, you reach into the bag at the same time, your fingers brushing up against one another. You playfully fight each other for the popcorn, which ends in Flip gently tossing kernels of the buttered snack into your mouth, occasionally missing your mouth and hitting your face on purpose just to get you laughing.

You’ve seen this movie probably a hundred times, but it was always one you kept coming back to. The quick wit had you laughing, the songs had you humming, and the music, well.

“Dance with me?” You look up with wide hopeful eyes at your husband, when the orchestra strikes up once again as Fred and Ginger launch into a choreography that you could only dream of following one day.

He indulges you with a shake of his head and sigh, and a, “As long as you don’t step on my toes.”

You scoff and roll your eyes dramatically as he offers you a hand which you gladly take, let yourself be pulled against him like a magnet. You waltz around the living room to the tune of Cheek to Cheek, and Flip even twirls you once or twice, making you perfectly pleasantly dizzy.

“I’m not the one in size-13’s.” You teased with a big fond grin, and that seemed to be the proverbial last straw for Flip because suddenly he was attacking your face with chaste kisses, tickling you with his goatee which you had trimmed just the night before.

“You’re terrible to me, you know that?” He shakes his head sternly as he continues to kiss your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your neck, “Awful. Absolutely horrible. The worst. I adore you.”

He catches your lips in his once more, kisses you slowly, deeply, passionately. He keeps kissing you even as the song has come to an end, cups your cheeks in both his hands – mindful of the cigarette clamped between his fingers – and rubs soothing little motions with his thumbs that follow the curve of your eye-socket.

He is so tender with you, so tender always. He’s a big man – 6’3” and sometimes seemingly just as wide – a strong man, a man who could crush your skull with ease if he wanted to. But he never wanted to, never wanted to be anything other than tender with you, and it made your heart so full that you almost could cry.

“Are you thirsty?” He asks, when the kiss ends.

You nod, because yes you are, all that popcorn had turned you parched.

With the movie still playing in the background, Flip brings you to the dining room, where he then retrieves a milkshake in a tall glass from the kitchen. He places it in front of you and sticks in two straws, just the way you always drink it – one for him and one for you. He even covered the whole top with whipped cream and maraschino cherries, just for you.

You watch the movie from the dining room, resting your head on his shoulder in between sips of the shake, holding hands under the table like someone could come in and reprimand you at any moment.

“Flip?” You ask, interrupting the great gondola heist scene.

“Hm?” Flip responds, turning to look at you with soft eyes.

“Thank you.” You bring his hand up for a kiss, a warm soft press of your lips against the scarred back of his palm.

“Anything for my girl.” He says with so much conviction that you believe him, you really really really do.

“Anything?” You say anyway, a little suggestively, suggestively enough that he knows exactly what you mean.

You and Flip simply look at one another for a moment, before he makes the quick decision to run into the living room and turn the projector off. You hurry after him, and he gives you space to go up the stairs first before he follows, pinching and grabbing at you in that playful loving way that only makes you laugh and yelp and get to your bedroom faster.

The snow outside may have canceled your plans for the day and forced you both to stay inside, but it didn’t matter so much. Not when you were stuck inside with someone so wonderful, so loving, so caring, so creative and funny and smart and sarcastic and handsome like him.

                                                      ---------------

Tagging some Flip loving friends! If you’d like to be added to or taken off the taglist, please let me know! 

@dreamboatdriver @kyloxfem @heldcaptivebychaos  @solotriplets @formerly-anonhamster @lookinsidemyhead @candycanes19 @adamsnacc-kler @taylovren-types @whiskey-bumblebee @oberynmartell​ @magikevalynn​ @tinyplanet-explorers​ @chelsjnov​ @romancedeldiablo​ @helloimindelaware​ @elfieboxcat​ @laurenshit​ @autumnlovesadam​ @peterisparker​ @mp938368 @hidingp​ @goodboybensolo​ @intrestellarsarah @the-marvelatic​ @miasera​ @emily-strange​ @proxyfoxy​ @insanita​ @disaster-rose​ @hazydespair​ @yosoymuyloca​ @1-800-choke-that-snoke​​ @ktellmeastory​​ @anongirl007​​ @zimmerxman​​ @okk–maaan​ @flapjacques​​

#flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman/reader #flip zimmerman #blackkklansman #my writing #flip zimmerman imagine #flip zimmerman fluff #flip zimmerman fic #adam driver character

[ssa25]

Naruhina2020 (Jan) - Firsts

@naruhina2020

Rating - T

They were huddled next to each other in the loveseat of Hinata's shared apartment with Sakura. It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, with her pink haired roommate locked up in her bedroom, nose deep into her textbooks for the ongoing exams. Hinata was already done with hers the previous week, so now she could focus on her boyfriend of two months. 

Uzumaki Naruto, was grinning like a cheshire cat, after Hinata had answered his question. They were talking and sharing about their firsts. Every little or insignificant firsts. 

From their first preschool, first part time job, first vacation, to their first best friend, first memorable gift and first movie. Although they went to the same middle and high school, they went around in different circles. Sometimes the circles merged and coincided, but they were still only more than acquaintances. 

They got significantly closer when they went to the same university, and when she started living with Sakura. In their sophomore year, Naruto asked Hyuuga Hinata out on a date, after Sakura drunkenly spilled at a party about how her meek flatmate had a major crush on him. She agreed ecstatically and he thanked his destiny for the turn of events. Because now, he was positively crazy about his midnight haired gorgeous (and hella sexy) girlfriend. Seriously, this was beyond imagination. The loud wayward soccer playing blonde and the prim proper posh heiress?

Anyway, Naruto being Naruto, asked her about her first crush. He didn't have to answer  the question himself, because she already knew the answer to it. It was her flatmate and good friend, Haruno Sakura. He was a pre-teen and she was one of his neighbours. It just happened, but eventually he moved on from those feelings as they became close friends. 

For Hinata, it was not the best feeling in the world to be aware of it, but she was above feeling petty or jealous. Especially now that he was her boyfriend. 

The petite curvy woman blushed profusely when it was her turn to answer the question. Her legs bent over Naruto's lap, as she fidgeted and replied in a small voice. 

"It was you."

Naruto was still for a second. "I'm sorry?" 

She huffed cutely and repeated her answer at the same time that he blurted out his confusion.

"It was you." 

"Did you say it was me??!!" 

If Naruto wasn't already feeling comfortable and smug, now he was superbly comfortable and obnoxiously smug. 

"Woah woah woah Missy, you never told me about that. You've been holding out, haven't you?" 

Okay, so now she was flustered and folded her arms to defend herself. "N-no…. You never asked me… I-It never came up before…"

He put his arm over her calves to squash any chance of escape. 

"When was this?", he interrogated.

"Umm…. When we were 13-14….Maybe…", she replied shyly. 

"Interesting.", he hummed and scratched his prickly chin. "Hold on… Is that why you sometimes used to faint when I spoke to you??", he asked wondrously, as if it all came together in his mind in a eureka moment. 

Hinata covered her face with her hands and nodded her head. "Can we please talk about something else?" 

"Hmm….", he leered at her. "Well, sure, it must've been impossible to resist my charm…", he commented refusing to change the topic. 

She smacked his arm playfully and pouted. "You're impossible… I don't think I'm good for your ego…." 

He pulled her closer by her waist and bumped her nose with his. 

"No baby, you're perfect for my everything.", he said in that deep husky baritone that made her spine tingle. 

Their lips found each other in a passionate kiss that had them both drowning out their surroundings. So when they heard a loud bang of a door, Hinata pulled away from his puckered lips to gasp for air and looked at the perpetrator. 

"Sorry, I was worried that he would gobble you up alive.", Sakura commented from the bedroom door with a poker face. Her short pink hair was unruly and tangly, and she was still in her pajamas from yesterday. She went to the kitchen while muttering something about ungrateful people showing off their relationship to lonesome singles. 

Naruto and Hinata snickered and cuddled closer. 

"Hey Sakura, ya know?... Hinata had the hots for me even in middle school…", he boasted while Hinata tried to cover his mouth with her palms. 

"Good for you.", Sakura commented nonchalantly as she went back to her room with a can of lemon soda.

As soon as her door closed, Naruto turned Hinata's chin towards him and continued their make out. They had been dating for a little less than two months, and had only gotten to second base. Not that he was complaining. He was serious about this relationship and he didn't want to rush Hinata into doing something she wasn't sure of. But it was just oh-so-hard to keep his hands off her.

She had mentioned about her being a virgin a week or two back. So he knew, if he did things right, he would be her first lover. For him, unfortunately, that train had departed two years back, when he and Sasuke were invited to their first soccer match after party that was off the hook crazy. They both had lost their virginity that night. 

Not to each other! Thank God for that! 

Some horny seniors found them cute and wanted to congratulate them. Personally. 

Hinata was a little shocked and flustered when he told her that. But she didn't hold it against him. 

When they parted for air again, he moved his hand from the swell of her voluptuous chest under her shirt to the smooth skin at her waist. Dejectedly of course, he had to calm his hard-on. 

He cleared his throat to distract her attention from his condition. 

"So, safe to say, that since I am your first crush and your first boyfriend, I must be your first kiss too.", he concluded smugly. 

"W-w-what?!!", she suddenly looked nervous. Not blushing nervous but pale, drained out of blood nervous. 

"Your first kiss…", he repeated. "Must be me… Right?"

"Uh… Y-yeah…", she replied in an oddly high pitched tone that was not her at all. She abruptly got up from the seat and walked to the kitchen. 

"I'm thirsty… Y-you want a drink Naruto~kun?"

Naruto  narrowed his eyes at the retreating back of his girlfriend. Something was not right. From what he knew about her, she was bad at lying. He knew this first hand, from the few times her conservative and strict father would inopportunely call her during their date or private make out time. And she would horribly lie with some lame excuse in the similar high pitched tone like she had used just now. Either her dad did not know her at all or was just bad at reading people and emotions, because he bought it everytime. 

Naruto got up from his seat and followed her, cornering her against the refrigerator. 

"Come on, spill it.", he said caging her between his arms. 

"Spill what?", she tried to act clueless.

"Who was your first kiss?", he was unrelenting in his pursuit. That's how he has always been.

"Umm… Who was yours?", she tried to flip it towards him. 

He knew what she was doing. But he was not going to let her off so easily. He would get her question out of the way first. 

"You know it. You were there. I'm not going to talk about it anymore than that." 

Hinata giggled into his chest, when she remembered the hilarious moment from few years back. Kiba had pushed Naruto jokingly onto Sasuke at the canteen which had led to a lip smack of sorts that left a distaste in the mouths of the two. It was a spectacle for the whole school. Suffice to say, Kiba earned a black eye and a sore jaw, while Naruto and Sasuke were in detention for the whole week.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want. But I'm not letting you off easily. Who was it?"

It didn't bother him that she had already had her first kiss. What got to him, was her reaction at the reminder of it. Was it that memorable? Was the guy a better kisser than him? Does she have some remnant feelings for him? 

"I…. I can't tell you… It's embarrassing…", she muttered unsurely. 

But the more she held out, the more curious he became. He would have to coax it out of her. 

"Come on babe….It can't be more embarrassing than mine…. Who is it?... Tell me… Is it someone I know?"

Hinata grew silent for a few seconds before nodding her head slowly. 

"Someone from our group of friends?" 

Again, she gave a small nod. 

Okay, may be he was not going to be okay after all. Now, his mind went into overdrive thinking about who it could be. She was not saying anything, so he had to start guessing. 

"Was it Kiba?" 

She shook her head. 

"Shino?" 

Again, a negative. 

"Don't tell it's the bastard… It's Sasuke, isn't it?"

"What? No!!"

"Then tell me who it was, unless you want me to go crazy thinking about it.", he grasped her shoulders and brought her closer. 

Hinata pushed him away gently and moved away to face her back towards him. She just could not say it to his face. 

She started explaining softly, but it was loud enough for him to hear. "I… I-it was at the sleepover party for Sakura's 16th birthday… We were playing truth or dare… It was my turn, and I had to choose dare because I had been playing safe with truth until then… Tenten already knew that I liked you…. But the other didn't… So she just asked me to french kiss someone who was blonde for one whole minute… She knew that you were Sakura's neighbour… The girls said they would help me get into your home… So they did.. And they had to also make sure I completed my dare… I was really really nervous…. When we got into the back garden, we saw you from the window that you were busy playing video games with Sasuke, Shikamaru and Chouji."

Naruto felt like his heart was about to burst from all the mystery. But she did say that it was not Sasuke, which means it must have been Shikamaru or Chouji then. 

He didn't interrupt her, so she continued. 

"We waited for you to go to the toilet  or something… I had made up my mind to do the dare, come what may… The girls even tried to discreetly throw pebbles at the window, but you never got up to check. Only Sasuke did. We hid from his view and waited for him to go back. After trying everything for almost half hour, we decided it might not happen. Tenten said it was not fair that I didn't do my dare. So she insisted that I kiss any other blonde. And… W-well…. Umm… There was someone blonde with us… Ino… She said I could kiss her…. And just to get it over with, I did… It was…. Uncomfortable… A little unpleasant…. But not a lot, of course not… It was Ino after all… She had a clean minty mou-"

Hinata stopped her rant when she heard a loud thud behind her. Naruto fainted and fell on the floor. 

"Naruto~kun!!!!", she screamed and ran to his side and shook his body. "Naruto~kun!!" 

"Are you guys f*cking in the middle of the day?!! ", Sakura shouted angrily as she came out of her room. 

"Sakura~san!!", Hinata called her for help. "Naruto~kun has fainted… Please help him…." 

Sakura instantly was by his side, checking for his vitals. She asked Hinata to get some water. But when she noticed the tiny trail of blood from his nose, she grew worried. She looked down his body, and was aghast to see the reason. 

The tent under his cotton joggers was unmistakable. She snarled and got up just to kick him on his sides.

"F*cking Pervert!!", she screamed at the top of her lungs.

"Naruto~kun!!", Hinata who was horrified, kneeled down to protect him, and unintentionally spilled the mug, in the process. 

If the kick didn't awaken Naruto, the splash of cold water on his groins definitely did.

A/n: Wrote and posted it fro my phone. So apologies for the length and absence of 'Read more' option.

#naruhina #naruhina2020

[drabblingnonsenseofthings]

Best Friends

A/N: I’m just a drabble writer! Something small and quick to get off my mind and something to share with the fellow fans of the fandom :) I hope you do enjoy! I do not take any requests! Since I drabble on my current obsessions :)

Ignore any grammar mistakes, I got lazy.

Super cliche but you can’t stop me 8D

Best Friends

Kihyun/Reader Word Count: 2700+

Breakups are hard. Especially if since it was a one sided breakup. That's why you're glad to have a best friend to comfort you when you're down in the dumps over some guy who decided to break your heart.

"Thanks Kihyun. I definitely needed someone today. I just don't understand why he decided to do that. Am I not enough?" You groaned and curled into Kihyun's embrace on the loveseat in your apartment. “He just doesn’t see what I see, okay. He’s losing a great woman. His loss.” Kihyun said as he holds you closer.

You and Kihyun are both curled up on the couch binging a show on Netflix together. The one thing you normally do when you’re heartbroken. Also one of the rare times he has to see you when he’s not traveling around the world for his tour and promotions. This was weeks before he had to start Monsta X’s world tour. You loved the days that you both can do nothing but binge a show and relax. He’s an idol. And you’re busy with your work life. 

“Screw him. All I need is you, Kihyun. Plus you’re leaving me for like three months, how could you. I need to have all my Kiki time I can get before I won’t see your face for so long. How am I going to even last.” You whined and hold him tighter. You felt him laughing. “You should come to one of the shows then. You already went to the first show, why not the last US show? Cause I’ll miss your face too.” He said while playing with the ends of your hair. “If I got the time, I will. But otherwise you need to keep messaging me every day and send what you’re eating cause no matter what I’m going to get jealous for going overseas.” You were jealous of Kihyun being able to go everywhere and eat everything.

“Wow, you’re getting jealous of me cause of the food? Woooow.” He threw out an exasperated sigh. “I’m jealous of the food. You’re not going to even miss me.” He pouted. “Nah. Of course I’m going to miss you. But real talk. I’m jealous that you get to eat food. Speaking of food, we should eat something. We’ve potato’d long enough.” You got up from Kihyun’s arms and pulled out your phone.

“Should we order food? Chicken?” 

-

Kihyun left for his World Tour. You were definitely lonely without your best friend. It’s like a giant void. He does try and keep you updated on where he’s at. You would talk at odd times of the day when you can. He tells you that when they got to Europe, Hyungwon fell sick. He told you everything and sent photos in mass loads when he can. The thing he never forgets is to say, “Good Morning” and “Good Night”. 

What did you deserve to have a Kihyun in your life?

Within the month he was gone, you tried to fill the void he left. Such as going out on dates again. You were still sad about the last break up but life moves on, so do you. 

The new dates never prevailed though. You kept comparing your date to Kihyun. This was one of the longest times he had to leave without coming back. 

After a month of him leaving this time around, you realized. You were in love with your best friend. You fell for the most typical thing. Falling in love with your best friend.

And magically you decided to just book a ticket to Los Angeles, after begging your boss for a week off. You wanted to surprise him by showing up at the concert. You kept in contact with the one person who can hold a secret, Changkyun. He helped you get the concert ticket being as sly as he can be to get a backstage pass for you. 

Changkyun helped you fully realize what your feelings were towards Kihyun. And he fully supported it. Changkyun also kept you updated on Kihyun as well. How he does become sad when he misses you. He talks a lot about you when you both are apart from each other.

-

The concert day arrived. You arrived at the venue early to meet up with Changkyun before soundcheck. They did rehearsals the day before. After meeting up with Changkyun, he sat you down for a little bit.

“I’m not sure if hyung said anything to you last night. But he fell in rehearsals and fractured his ribs. He probably didn’t say anything to you because he didn’t want to worry you.” Changkyun told you quietly. You stared at him like he had three heads. “.... That idiot. No, he didn’t say anything like that at all to me yesterday.” You sighed. Your heart feeling really heavy with worry.

“Wouldn’t this affect the concert? He shouldn’t be able to perform. He went to the hospital right? Ugh I hope he’s okay. He didn’t even tell me this. What is wrong with him?” You threw one too many questions at Changkyun. He looked a little solemn at the situation. “Well, he insisted to perform sitting down. He is very persistent on this stage. Because it’s the Staples Center. The stage we all wanted to stand on together.” You bit your lip. He wasn’t wrong. If Kihyun didn’t perform on this dream stage, he would regret it for the rest of his life. 

“There will be a doctor on site for the concert, and he’ll be on some strong painkillers at least. But he will have to rest and sit out on the rest of the L.A. schedule.” Changkyun told you. He looked at his phone and stood up. “I need to get going before it too suspicious on me leaving for a long amount of time. The other hyungs besides Kihyun-hyung knows that you’re here. I told them last night. If you have any problems getting in, call me.” Changkyun waved you off and ran off into the venue. 

You debated if you wanted to go in the venue early and scold Kihyun for not telling you that he got hurt. You ended up just sitting there contemplating on what you’re going to do when you see Kihyun in person after 2 and a half months. 

Get mad at him for not telling you that he got hurt?

Confess your feelings for him before the show?

Not see him at all until the concert starts, so he stays focused and not hurt himself even more?

You groaned and laid your head down on the table. You want to see him but you realized you should really wait until after the show to see him. He might see you in the crowd anyways. He knows how to always find you.

With that thought in mind, you decided to go see him anyways. You’re worried that he will over exert himself on his injury. A little scolding doesn’t hurt.

Strolling through security and into the backstage area, you manage to not get too lost on maneuvering around to the backstage area. You’ve seen a few familiar faces but not alot. Eventually you bumped into Jooheon who was playing with his niece Oli. Jooheon’s face lit up and directed you where Kihyun is without disrupting his play time with his niece. 

Your heart felt heavy at the same time fluttering being able to see the best friend you fell in love with. You knocked on the door lightly and waited before hearing a confirmation on the other side.

You peeked your head in, and see that Kihyun was laying down, not in his full stage outfit resting on the couch that was provided. He had his eyes closed but you can see him breathing slowly to reduce the pain from his chest.

“Hey.” You said. And immediately Kihyun whipped his head over towards you with a giant shock. Struggling to get up safely to greet you better, but the pain got the better of him and he groans out, plopping back down on the couch. “Yah. Stay down you idiot. I don’t want you worse before your show. Why didn’t you tell me you hurt yourself?” You said as you pulled up a chair to sit next to him by the couch.

“You didn’t tell me that you were coming.” He pouted. You rolled your eyes at him. “Because it was a surprise. My surprise was getting news of you hurting yourself.” He pouted and looked away. “I just didn’t want you to worry. Granted you would’ve gotten really mad if you learned it from the official post the company is going to post soon.” He said as he looked elsewhere besides your face. Sighing away, you grabbed Kihyun’s hand that rested on his chest and rubbed it softly. A little dry due to the weather, but it’s Kihyun in front of you, still alive.

“Just let me know next time.. You make me worried. I miss you, ya know.” Mindlessly rubbing your fingers on his hand, like your hands are trying to memorize his hands like it’s the last thing on Earth. You didn’t notice that he was staring at you as you started talking again. “I begged my boss for a week off to see you. Be happy about that. I’m happy I’m here to see you but I can’t even hug you after not seeing you for so long cause you’re hurt. All I can do right now is to hold your hand but it’s not enough for me.” You ranted. 

You were definitely in love with Kihyun. 

Never feeling like this before, where you want to cry after seeing someone you love, in pain.

“Don’t just lay there, say something Kihyun…” You pouted and looked up at him and locked eyes with him. His face was definitely pink. You can see a slight sheen of sweat on his forehead. You bit your lip in resistance because of your heart about to burst out of your chest. 

Kihyun opens and closes his mouth a few times and swallowed. His heart felt so full. He can’t form the words to say to Y/N. “I…--” 

Suddenly interrupted by Minhyuk who opened the door abruptly. “Ah! Y/N you’re here! Thank god. Kihyun would not shut up how much he missed you. I kept telling him to tell--” Minhyuk rambled on and Kihyun panicked. “MINHYUK. What is that you need?” Kihyun interrupted his monologue. But also took his hand away from Y/N because he shouldn’t have yelled like that cause the pain just shot up quick. The interruption from Minhyuk quelled down his feelings.

You were a little shocked from the outburst from Kihyun because it was a lot louder than he should have shouted. You glared at him and he gave a small ‘oops’ grin. “Oh what was I here for again? RIGHT. We need to get ready. Show starts in 45 minutes! Gotta finish putting costumes on and we gotta take some pictures and get ready!” Minhyuk said helped Kihyun up from the couch. You helped out as well. 

“I’ll go see the other guys. Go get ready first. I’ll talk to you later.” You waved him off as he gets kidnapped by Minhyuk off to the coordi. 

-

You got to see Monsta X as a full group and completely dressed. You gave them your luck and told them that you’ll go out with the crowd to watch the stage from the frontal view from the General Standing with the rest of the Monbebes.

As the concert progressed you do see the chair dedicated for Kihyun. And everytime he stood up, you wished you could go on the stage and tell him to sit his injured butt back down. You were pretty sure almost everyone else who saw the message also was like that man needs to sit down. 

You were proud of him though. Withstanding the pain from his chest to show his compassion for the LA show to the Monbebes at the venue and those who were watching on VLive around the world. You definitely could not keep your eyes off of him though. His unit stage, where he literally looked like a boss. His body rolls, that he shouldn’t be doing at all, during Oh My. His high notes during any song. The love in his eyes for Monbebes.

That’s your best friend. On stage being the best he can be for his fans. The one and only Yoo Kihyun. 

Right before the show ended, you went backstage to greet them and congratulate them on a wonderful show before greeting the Monbebes for their event. 

When they all came back, they all had a sad smile because it was their last show for the US tour. They see the end of their concert tour. Of course they were greeted immediately by their makeup crew and coordi. Kihyun was seen by the doctors immediately after the stage, making sure everything is ok with him because he has definitely overexerted himself for sure. After he was attended to. He was to sit down before the hi-touch event. 

Kihyun had waved you over and grabbed your hands as soon as you came within vicinity. Everyone else was prepping for the hi-touch. He looked up at you, since you were standing in front of him. There was a certain look in his eyes that you couldn’t pin down. You looked a little confused, but at the same time, your heart couldn’t stop beating so fast.

“I wanted to tell you something before Minhyuk interrupted before the show.” Kihyun said, then started to mimic the way you were playing with his hands before the show. 

“We’re best friends right?” He asked. You simply nodded. “What happens if I… If I want to be more than that?” He looked straight into your eyes like he was trying to find the answer that question. “I love you, Y/N. Like more than a best friend. These past almost 3 months have been painfully hard for me. I knew in my heart I loved you, I was just in a lot of denial. I missed you too much and nagged the guys to the point they figured out that I like you. ALOT. Soooo… will you do the honors and be my girlfriend?” He whispered to a point no one else around us can hear him but just you. 

You wanted to jump on him and say yes. You had to soak all of that in. Yoo Kihyun confessed first. He asked first. You opened your mouth but your words couldn’t come out. He looked slightly worried since you haven’t moved or said anything in a disturbing amount of time. “Are you breathing, Y/N?” He questioned your state. “Yes.” That’s all you can manage out of your mouth at that moment. “On both.”

“I like like you too, Kihyun. I love you more than a best friend.. It took me those months as well to figure out that I liked you a lot as well.” You whispered to him as well. You can feel your face burn up quickly into a blush. You looked away from his face but he just moves with you to see your reaction. And all you can see is Kihyun’s big grin and pink ears from his sudden confession. His hands gripped a little harder.

“Wow can’t believe we both fell for the best friend trope.” Kihyun remarked. “I’d kiss you right now but that’s not a good idea.” He grinned. “Of course it isn’t a good idea. We’re surrounded by too many people.” You told him while swinging his arms gently back and forth. 

“Also Kiki. Do Monbebes, me, and a doctor a favor. And sit your ass down more often. You know many times I’ve heard, ‘Kihyun, sit your ass back down’ at the concert. Too many. But otherwise, you did wonderful. I love the show. It was amazing, even if you messed up a little bit.” You told him and stuck your tongue out at the end of your little rant. He gave you a little face. "Don't remind me. Everyone else has laughed at me for it." Kihyun whined. "But what are best friends for?" You remarked and winked back.

#monsta x #monstax #monsta x scenarios #yoo kihyun #kihyun #kihyun scenarios #imwhippedforkihyunplssaveme

[maybieawriter]

Presents | Shawn Mendes Christmas Fluff

Pairing: Shawn Mendes x Y/N

Word Count: 2,100 +

It’s been 4 months since Y/N and Shawn broke up. Due to Shawn’s busy tour schedule and Y/N’s was busy with her senior year of college, they never had time for each other. Before the breakup, they had been dating for almost 2 years. And it turned out to be a mutual decision that they both regret making. Both of them still talk at least once a week, trying their best to remain best friends. She even went to his concert in Toronto about a month after they broke up. But now it’s the holiday season and they are wishing that were spending it together. This year it was Y/N’s turn to host the holiday party, so she invited all of their friends, including Shawn.

Shawn arrived before anyone else did, showing up a half hour early. He knocked on the door as Y/N was taking cookies out of the oven.

“It’s open!” She shouts from the kitchen.

Shawn could barely hear her through the door, but walks in anyways. He closes the door behind him and puts his jacket on the rack. He removes his shoes and walks into the kitchen to find Y/N. He is holding a couple presents in his hands, hers included.

“Hey,” he says quietly, noticing she is still busy getting ready. The kitchen is filled with food. The dining table is set for 8 people, and Shawn notices that she is using her festive table decorations. He sets the gifts down on the table against the wall.

“Hi, you’re a bit early,” she chuckles while placing the warm cookies onto the cooling rack, then puts the hot tray in the sink.

“Yeah, hope that’s okay...I can help out if you need it” Shawn slightly stutters, barely keeping eye contact.

“Sure. Can you plug in the Christmas lights in the living room and dim the rest of the lights? Oh and, make sure there are hand towels in the bathroom? Please…”

“Of course, I’ll take care of all that.” Shawn answers and walks towards the living room.

Y/N takes this opportunity to rush upstairs to her room to change. Once she has her casual/dressy outfit on, she checks herself in the mirror to make sure her makeup and hair is okay from earlier. Knowing her other friends would be arriving soon, she returns downstairs to check on Shawn. He sees her coming down the stairs and smiles at her.

“You look great, Y/N” Shawn grins.

“Thank you, you don’t look too bad yourself.” Y/N smiles back at him.

“Thanks. Everything in the living room is all set. I put all the gifts near the tree and made sure there is a hand towel in the bathroom.” Shawn informs her as they walk towards the kitchen. Y/N grabs a decorative plate from the cabinet and begins to place the cookies on it.

“So how did your final exams go? You only have one semester left right?” Shawn asks while helping her move the cookies over.

“Not as bad as I thought. I feel like I had way too much time on my hands, so I studied a lot. And yeah, only one semester left of college. Then I’ll have my degree.” She says looking down at the cookies, arranging them on the plate.

“That’s great, I’m happy for you. I hope your last semester goes well too.”

“Thank you” Y/N walks to the wine rack to grab a bottle. She knew which kind was Shawn’s favorite, so she grabs it on purpose. She even had another bottle of it stashed away so they might have some to share again. Y/N gives the bottle of wine and an opener to Shawn. Meanwhile she grabs some wine glasses for them. Remembering at the last second to grab a few more glasses for their friends, and placing those on the counter too.

“How did the New Year’s Eve recording go?” She continues as Shawn opens the wine bottle.

“It was exciting. Probably not as exciting as it would be if it was live, but at least I get to spend New Year’s Eve with friends instead of backstage with a bunch of strangers,” he explains.

Y/N chuckles a bit at the last part he said. He pours their wine and wedges the cork back in the bottle. Sliding her glass across the counter to her.

“I wish that you had been there to see it.” Shawn whispers, not looking at her. He’s even more nervous around her than he had been when they had first started dating. Mostly because he doesn’t want her to be uncomfortable around him.

“I wish I was there too, but ---” Y/N is cut off by the doorbell ringing. She nods to Shawn answer it, so he walks to the door to let their friends in. Y/N follows behind him slowly, hugging her friends after they greet Shawn. Eventually they all move to the dining room.

Throughout dinner, Y/N and Shawn stole glances at each other. They sat diagonally from each other, but everyone knew they could cut the tension with a knife. By 8:30 pm everyone is ready to open presents. So they all headed to the living room, sporadically placed around the room. Shawn sat on the couch next to Brian, while Y/N was sitting on the loveseat next to her best friend, Jess. Shawn looks at Y/N every few minutes, still wondering what she was going to say to him earlier before their friends arrived.

Everyone had placed their secret santa gift around the tree. Neither Shawn or Y/N got each other in secret santa, but they had gotten each other presents to give to the other later that night. After opening presents, the group decided to watch a classic Christmas movie, “Elf.” Almost all of the wine and beer had was drunk by the group, meaning everyone was a bit tipsy.

When Shawn gets up to grab another beer, Jess pulls her aside and whispers, “are you and Shawn okay? I know you aren’t angry with each other and it’s been a while since the break up, but you’ve been staring at each other all night.”

“Everything is fine,” Y/N whispers back to her. “Nothing is going on between us, everyone here knows that.”

“Well, it doesn’t seem that way. It seems like you still feel the same as you did the last time. Like you still want to be with him again,” Jess questions her.

“Jess, this isn’t up for discussion right now. Shawn and I already decided what is best for us months ago. Now hush, and watch the movie.” Y/N starts getting frustrated. Thinking about Shawn the whole duration of the movie, not even paying attention. Shawn sits closer to her during the movie, he almost tried to hold her hand at one point.

Once the movie is over, it’s about 11:00 pm. Jess had offered to stay and help Y/N clean up, but Shawn already told her he would. Of course all of their friends gave them a wink before leaving for the night. Y/N brought some empty glasses back into the kitchen when she remembered Shawn’s gift. He is somewhere in the house cleaning up, so she calls him.

“Shawn?” She shouted, standing by the kitchen sink.

“Yeah Y/N?” He replied from what sounded like the bathroom.

“Can you come here for a second? I have something for you.”

Her heart started to pound as he replied a quick “sure,” and heard his footsteps coming into the kitchen. She grabs his gift that she had hidden in the cabinet. Holding it in her hands for a few moments before giving it to him. He sits down in one of the island chairs across from her. While carefully undoing the wrapping paper, Shawn tells her “you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“I know, but when I thought of it I had to get it for you,” Y/N reasons with him.

Shawn removes the wrapping paper to reveal a black box. He opens it to see a large, blue guitar pick made of glass, with white cursive lettering. It’s about the size of his hand and comes with a stand to mount it on a shelf or desk. There is a song lyric engraved in it, Shawn immediately noticing it as his own lyric, ‘You Can’t Take My Youth Away.’ Shawn looks up at Y/N, with a huge smile on his face.

“This is beautiful, thank you so much,” Shawn stands up, moving toward her, still holding his gift.

“You’re welcome,” Y/N grins. “Did you see what’s under it?”

He looks back in the box, under a layer of tissue paper is a bunch of small white guitar picks with the same engraving, but in navy blue. She knows that Shawn goes through a lot of guitar picks every day, so she wanted to give him a lot of picks that he could use. The larger one to put on a shelf in his bedroom or living room.

“Oh my god, Y/N! This is great, I love it.” He responds while going in for a hug. He holds her just a bit longer than normal, just to hold her again. He pulls away and gently puts the glass guitar pick, back in the box, on top of the regular picks. He moves toward the hallway, “I got you something too.” He disappears to retrieve her gift from his coat. He returns in a few seconds, Y/N moves to the seat next to his at the counter.

“You didn’t have to,” Y/N chuckles. “I know you told Matt what to get me for secret santa.”

Shawn laughs nervously, “to be fair, he almost bought you a really ugly sweater. So I think I was helping.” He hands her a poorly wrapped box.

Y/N chuckles at the thought of Matt buying her an ugly sweater and then going to Shawn for help. She ended up getting a couple makeup palettes. She removes the wrapping paper to reveal a white jewelry box. When she opens it, her jaw drops. It is a beautiful set of pearl earrings and matching necklace. She instantly remembers when she left behind her grandmother’s pearl earrings and necklace at a hotel, while on tour with Shawn. By the time she realized, it was 2 weeks later. The hotel staff said that they searched the whole room to find the set, but it was gone, someone had already stolen them from the room.

Her eyes start to water, as she stared at the small box. Shawn stands beside her nervously, worrying that she doesn’t like it. Y/N sets the box down on the counter, next to Shawn’s gift. She stands and pulls him into a tight hug. Her arms are around his neck, while his arms wrap completely around her waist, their faces are buried in each others necks. Y/N lets out a few tears, Shawn feeling them against his skin, but he doesn’t care. Shawn remembered how upset Y/N was when she lost her grandmother's pearls. This necklace was clearly his way of saying ‘I still love you.’

“Thank you,” Y/N sobs into his neck. They haven’t let go of each other, Shawn slightly swaying them. “I love it….I love it so much”

“You deserve them, I tried to get them to look like your Grandmother’s, but--” Shawn starts but Y/N cuts him off with a kiss. Her hands pulls his face closer to hers, even though they couldn’t be any closer. At first Shawn is taken aback, not daring to open his eyes thinking it’s a dream he doesn’t want to wake from. After a few seconds, Shawn lifts her body and places her on the counter, next to the gifts. Her legs latch around his torso as his hands, comb through her hair and grasp the back of her neck. The kisses don’t become too heated, they are meant to make up for the time they spent apart. Just holding and kissing each other again feels like home.

Shawn is the first to pull away. “I miss you….I miss this. Can you...can you please be mine again --” He begs while trying to catch his breath.

Y/N smiles and nods furiously, “yes.” She kisses Shawn again. “I missed you too. I never stopped wanting to be with you.”

“Me too,” Shawn grins back at her. They both smile and continue to kiss. Shawn lifts her off the counter and carries her to the living room, plopping down on the couch, with her now on his lap. Needless to say, they had a lot to make up for.

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes smut #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes au #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes x y/n #shawn mendes x reader

[avidfanficwriter]

Two Drunken Fools (Chapter 3)

Characters: Tony Stark x OFC.

Warnings:Cursing, Alcoholism, depression, suicidal-ness(?) (I’m blanking the word), Smut, Pain, Will update as chapters arrive. Honestly, it’s messy. SPOILERS FOR INFINITY WAR AND ENDGAME

Ratings: M.

Summary: When Tony fought Thanos, he thought that was as bad as it could get. He’d walk away with a bruised ego, a stab wound and the kid in tote. It didn’t end like that, it never does for Tony Stark. His world fell. The kid’s gone, Pepper’s gone and he’s in dire need of help but refuse to let anyone know that. Instead he cures it the only way he knows how: booze and seclusion. Until he discovers he shares shocking similarities with someone else whose curing their own pain the same way.

The third visit from Tony Stark is even more unexpected than the first two times, it's been an entire month since his last visit and Wren hadn't expected to see him again considering their last interaction.

It was late in the afternoon when the sun is threatening to rest for the day and the sounds of wildlife become replaced with insects while Wren works tirelessly on another piece of jewelry, a piece for a husband whose wife had disappeared. His request was simple, a bracelet with his wife's name engraved and the date of their marriage below it. The task should be quick but her previous project had put her right against the deadline, the previous customer had requested a drawing of mickey mouse's face on a heart. With no particular skill in the arts area of life, Wren had resorted to tracing the picture and ended up wasting more material than she would have liked too. This one returns her to the simplicity that was jewelry making. Wren finishes the last consonant of the woman's name when the sound of an engine roars through the woods, startling her. At first, she assumes it's just a trick of her mind that she misses talking to someone since nothing follows afterwards. There is no obnoxious rev of the engine as Tony pulls into the driveway or the sounds of gravel crunching beneath his feet as he walks to the driveway. It's quiet. Her focus returns to the piece in her hand, gently wiping the shreds of metal off the small band. The silence is once again interrupted by the sound of a car door slamming.

She stands, discarding the jewelry and rushes to the front of the house, quickly opening the door to meet Tony whose approaching the patio. The tips of her fingers nudge against the screen door in front of her but Wren pauses before pushing it open. Tony's appearance hasn't changed at all, not that she expected it to, he's dressed in a long sleeve novelty band t-shirt, dark blue jeans with his hair unstyled and his facial hair in more need of trimming than before. He has a large brown bag in one hand and a case of beer in his other hand.

"Hi." Wren says in a quiet whisper.

"Hi." Tony responds standing in front of the patio steps.

"I didn't expect you to see you again."

"I wasn't planning on coming back." He confesses with a small smile.

Wren gives him a small nod and chews on her lower lip. "What did you bring today?"

Tony smiles, walking up the last step and standing just inches away from the screen that separates them. "A parting gift." He holds up the brown bag, "I hope you like tequila."

"No scotch?"

"Next visit." He winks.

"There's going to be a next?"

"Unless you don't want there to be."

"I didn't say that." Wren pulls the door open, leaning against the screen to hold it still. "How about we see how this goes before we start talking about next time? I like to keep my options open."

"Thought it was doors?" He asks cocking his head.

"Those too." She is quick to clarify. "Tony Stark, please come into my humble abode." She offers motioning for him to enter.

Tony walks inside the house, letting out a small sigh as he takes in the warmth. "Where do you want this?" He asks when Wren closes the front door behind them with a small thud and walks towards him.

"Coffee table as always."

"I've never seen your house." He says walking into the small living room and places the objects on the glass tabletop. "i've been here three times and have only seen the living room and kitchen."

"There's a reason for that." Wren says, grabbing a red blanket off of the couch before Tony takes up his usual residence on it.

"Which is?" Tony asks, taking the opportunity to look around the house for the first time. It's quaint, a few pieces stick out to him that he thinks Steve would be attracted to but there's a modern touch littered throughout. Her couch is in dire need of replacing, multiple spots on it are torn and sewn up with no expertise to hide the quick fix. She has an assortment of blankets he notices, the few times he's been here, there's been a different one resting on the couch. The kitchen table and coffee table he's noticed always seem to have items spread across it, usually one is dedicated to tools and the other to papers. She has a pair of running shoes that sit next to the front door and she usually has a discarded coffee mug that sits on the kitchen counter half full of coffee. The rest of the house is a mystery. there's a bedroom or office to the right of the house and another to the left.

"When do I get a tour of your place?" She asks arching an eyebrow with a sly smile.

Tony shakes his head and sits down on the couch, quickly opening the case of beer and pulling out two bottles while Wren sits on the loveseat in front of him wrapping the blanket around herself. "You're welcome for the beer." Tony says changing the subject.

"Thank you for the beer, Tony." She says with a smile.

Wren stretches out on the loveseat, propping her legs over the arm rest and exhales loudly. Her green eyes look out the large window behind her she watches the leaves from the tree float to the ground. It's the beginning of winter, the air is growing crisp and the leaves are making their escapes. This winter is going to be bad, the mornings are cold and the nights are even colder, soon enough the snow will fall and everything will turn white.

"Why do you drink?" Tony asks interrupting the silence they've found.

"What?"

"Why do you drink?" He repeats.

She snorts and turns to face him, "Why do you drink?" She asks with accusing eyes.

"I asked you first."

There's another round of silence before Wren speaks, there's no use in lying to him, she's a nobody compared to him. He wouldn't gain anything more than knowledge based off her sharing the truth. "To forget." She confesses.

"Do you?"

There is a breathy chuckle before her response, "Not really." Her head falls back, eyes tracing patterns in the ceiling. "I use to think, just one more, one more and soon it'll stop, you know? This--whatever it is will finally give me a break and just... stop. I don't even know why I'm so caught up on it anyway, I'm mourning someone who cheated on me." Tony wants to inquire further but like she has done for him, he lets her share what she wants. "God, can we open that tequila? If I'm going to be drifting down memory lane then I need something harder and stronger than beer in my system."

"Have I been volunteered to partake in that session?" Tony asks leaning forward and pushing the brown bag towards the edge of the table where Wren can reach it.

"That's what we use each other for, isn't it?" She asks piercing her eyebrow as she looks at him, cockeyed. "You drive out here, some beer in tote and we confess our deepest darkest secrets to each other."

"Is that what we do?"

"I'm sorry, I've had a few drinks today..." She concedes as Tony's eyes glance at the beer nestled in her hand. "Aside from this one. I can be a mean drunk. Today is a bad day."

Tony nods with a chuckle, "Must be why we get along, I tend to be a careless one."

"You, careless?" She asks accusingly.

"You, mean?" He asks matching her tone.

They stare at each other, both waiting to see who will be the first to speak or even move. It's a dangerous game they are playing but neither are known for backing down even more so when alcohol is involved.

Silence is a defining characteristic when describing the relationship between Wren and Tony. They talk, say a lot in little time and say little over long periods of silence. It would make most people uncomfortable but for them it's comforting. Silence is easier to navigate then stretch of questions that all need answers the second after they're asked. For them, they can wait and be at peace simply listening to the sounds of the other breathing.

"Why is today a bad day?" Tony questions after watching Wren take another gulp of tequila.

Wren forces a humorless chuckle past her lips, "It's stupid shit."

"Such as?"

"Two years ago, today was my anniversary."

"I didn't know you were married." Tony has read through her file a few times, more than is socially acceptable but he's positive there was no mention of a husband.

"I wasn't... thankfully." She sighs heavily. "He missed our anniversary," She swallows hard. " he forgot about it, which should have been my first clue. He said he'd make it up to me. I believed him. He was good, sweet and we were okay. The months that followed were weird, he was distant. Then... when it all was happening, I came home from work walked in on him and my best friend getting to know one another a little better." She scoffs, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "It's really funny, when you think about it. The world was fighting to survive and I come home worried because he wasn't answering his phone and discover he's perfectly safe fucking my best friend." Tony exhales deeply, distractly lifting the bottle to his lips. "By the time, I got back to work, it all happened and they both were taken."

"Both?"

"Yep." She pops the 'p' with a playful smile, hiding the pain she really feels. A trick Tony knows far to well.

Tony sighs, "He left you to suffer, huh?"

"It would seem so." She sniffles and adjusts her blanket. "Is it wrong that I'm glad they're gone? That he's gone?" Tony swallows nervously, he's not the best person to ask this question to. "I think if he hadn't I would have gone back to him even seeing what he did."

"Back to him?" He raises an eyebrow, confusion deep in his voice.

Wren smiles and nods, "Probably."

"Why?"

"Because I did some pretty stupid stuff after everyone disappeared." She shrugs her shoulders.

An hour of silence passes as they drink the rest of the tequila and have came to the silent agreement to share the last bottle of beer. The world outside of Wren's home was starting to turn in for the night, the once blue sky had turned black while stars began appearing. Crickets chirped and the sweet songs from birds began to quiet. Snow was going to fall soon, she could tell, the sky was always a shade darker when it was going to snow. The living room had a soft yellow glow from a small lamp in the corner of the room, next to her bookcase that Tony has noticed is filled with multiple genres of books ranging from fiction to nonfiction with recipe books and self help books.

Wren's abandoned the chair and somehow ended up on the floor with a small throw pillow beneath her head and the blanket lazily resting on top of her. Tony is laying on the couch now, one leg propped on the back of the couch and one of his arms is hanging off the edge making his knuckles scrap along the carpet.

It's nine o'clock when their last beer is gone, most of it due to him when Tony breaks the silence with soft gasp.  "Do you think they knew?" He asks tears in his eyes and sorrow in his chest. God, he misses Pepper.

"What?" Wren asks with her eyes closed on the cusp of falling asleep.

"When he... Do you think everyone he took knew what was happening?""

"For their sake, I hope not."

"Someone I knew, someone I let down... I think they knew what was happening." Tony says in a breathless whisper remembering the last moments he spent with Peter, how the boy's eccentric behavior drastically changed. He wrapped his arms around Tony and pleaded for help. Tony remembers it like it was yesterday, the fear nestled in Peter's eyes and the acceptance in his voice as he knew death was coming for him.

"Were you there?" She asks her voice slightly hitched. "With them as it happened?"

"Yeah." He says quietly. "Until the end."

"They just... Slipped through your fingers. Almost like you couldn't hold onto them tight enough." Wren lets out a deep breathe. "Then you wait for it to take you and it never did."

"Yeah." Tony whispers in a broken voice "I hoped he would have killed me."

Wren lets out a painful chuckle, "The world doesn't kill those of us who want it too..." It's the darkest thing she's said in front of Tony, the alcohol and the longing for sleep is to blame. "When we're too weak to do it ourselves, the world doesn't take pity on us. It'd rather we suffer."

Tony silently agrees, rubbing his eyes and sighing. "I almost did it." He confesses a little to happily. "After he left, I was in that ship, dying and I thought it would be so easy to just let it happen or help it come sooner."

"What changed?"

"I thought she'd be here." There's a crack in his voice that he tried desperately to hide. "I stayed... I lived for her."

"Wish you would have chosen the other option?"

"Everyday." Tony answers quickly.  

"Me too."

Tony slowly sits up, holding a hand to his head as he adjusts to the new position. He's drank a lot more than he realized. "Is that why you live out here in the middle of nowhere alone?"

"Part of the reason." Wren acknowledges with a half attempt at a shrug. "Is that why you locked yourself up away from society?" She questions him, turning her head to look at him.

"Yes." He answers without missing a beat.

"Quite a pair we are." A sarcastic undertone is evident in her voice as she tosses the beer bottle towards the table with a loud thud. "Do you think that's all that's left of the world? People who are barely getting by? Pieces of who they once were?"

"Not for everyone." He thinks back to the security feeds the days he saw Steve, the only man on the planet who seems to be perfectly fine with everything that's happened. He smiles and goes about his day like nothing happened, he's happy. "Some of us were luckier than others.'

"Lucky bastards." Wren says through gritted teeth. She lets out a loud groan as she rises to her feet, letting the blanket fall to the floor and releases a groan as she stretches her muscles. "I need coffee, do you need coffee?"

"Yes, please."

"Coffee it is." She says abruptly walking to the kitchen and accidently kicks a discarded bottle one of them left on the floor.

Wren quickly gets to work in the kitchen, sparring a few minutes to adjust to the sudden bright light that burned her retinas after switched the light on. She was trying to remain quiet her head is spinning with comments that she's desperate to ask, they've gotten into dark territory that revealed truths about one another, she wasn't planning on sharing. She glanced over her shoulder as she started the coffee pot, the room filled with the sounds of water dripping into the glass pitcher, Tony's still on the couch, clutching his head in his hands. The alcohol is taking it's toll on both of them, no food and a belly full of alcohol was making itself known.

"What are these?" She hears from Tony while standing on the tips of her toes to reach two mugs from the cabinet.

"Uh..." She slowly turns, resting the mugs on the counter behind her. He's moved. Quietly so. Tony is now hovering over her kitchen/work table, his hands buried deep in his pockets. "work."

"Work?" He says with confusion.

"Yeah, I needed a source of income after I was let go."

"These... these are great." He comments, picking a necklace into his hands. There's simple chains on some, gold and silver. Others that are beaded and jeweled but each is crafted with such beauty and care.

"Thanks..." She whispers with confidence slipping from her voice. She quickly turns around, pouring the hot coffee into the mugs and brings both mugs towards Tony who's still admiring her work. His brown eyes trace each mark, each line she's created and the marks from her tools. "Here you go."

Tony takes the light blue mug from her hand and takes a sip, groaning as the hot liquid flows down his throat. Wren watches him as he continues to admire the jewelry, he trails his index finger along a few finished pieces and gives a small smile. His hands are gentle, lightly grazing the metal plates. "This is... beautiful." He corrects his earlier statement. He grips the leather band for the few bracelets she's created, swiping his thumb along the silver plate that has another victim's name engraved in it.

Wren sighs heavily, the bracelet he held was for a child, a boy who was five and was excited to start kindergarten, loved trucks and wanted to be a police officer when he grew up and now he was gone. The mother requested the bracelet be dyed red, his favorite color. Her eyes follow the length of Tony's bare arm, he must have discarded his long sleeve shirt while she made the coffee, she looks towards the couch but her eyes are quickly pulled back by the light grey t-shirt he's wearing. It's the first time she's noticed it or the lack of it, there is no blunt ridge in the center of his chest. The chest piece she's seen plastered on children's costumes or novelty t-shirts is absent.

"You got rid of your..." She abruptly stops, catching her lower lip between her teeth. She can't mention Iron Man, she can't. He wanted to talk to someone who didn't know him before this, if she brought up Iron Man it could have a less than pleasant effect on their friendship? If they had a friendship? Were they friends? Was getting drunk all hours of the day, then not speaking until he showed up a few days after with more beer in tote considered a friendship?

Tony's eyes meet hers as he lets the bracelet fall from his fingers back onto the wooden table. "I'm sorry?"

"Nothing... nevermind." She holds her hand out, quickly shaking her head and drinks her coffee before another ill advised comment makes its way out.

"Thank you." Tony blurts out after a heavy silence.

Wren smiles. "It's just coffee."

"No, for..." He looks up, staring directly into her eyes. "listening. For talking. Everyone always wants you to just move on."

"Or give you their opinion on how to better yourself." She rolls her eyes at the comment, their 'friends' who all think they have the answers to life's problems.

Tony silently agrees, "Everyone else always knows best." He says with a smirk.

"That they do." She agrees sarcastically.

Something comes over Tony in that moment, something he can't explain or understand but he's suddenly leaning forward, placing the mug on the table and brushing his lips over hers. He can taste the coffee on her lips and feel the steam from the mug she's tightly holding in between them. Lips move slowly, like he's--like they're testing the waters, both unsure of how to react to this moment.

She parts, pulling away from him causing her coffee to spill on her sock clad feet. She hisses in pain and forces out a low, "Fuck."

Fuck, is exactly the thing that's filling Tony's mind.

Two versions of it actually.

The first where he wants to bend Wren over the counter and take her roughly from behind.

The other where he can't believe he wants to do that. He shouldn't want that. He's in love with Pepper. This thought was wrong. He's devoted, committed and was almost engaged to Pepper.

Wren's moved again, tossing her stained socks down the hallway he's never been privy to walk down. She's avoiding his eyes. She's avoiding him actually.

"I have to go." Tony doesn't wait for a response or even look at her for a goodbye, he simply leaves. Abandoning his t-shirt on the couch and rushing out of the house.

He's running from her and from his other brain that is desperately trying to convince him to turn around and take her to bed.

He pulls over on the side of the road, an hour into his drive, he has a perfect view of the city here. He has his cell phone in his hands, his finger dancing over the on button. It's been months since he's started it. With no service there was no reason for it no but it was habit that he slipped it into his pocket. The phone vibrates as he slips his index finger off the small button, it gets him... Friday greets him actually.

Her soft Irish accent sharing how happy it is to see him again. She's ignored. He has other business. He swipes past the homescreen and array of untouched apps until he finds the one labeled gallery, a blank Polaroid as the icon picture.

Pictures.

He scroll mindlessly until he finds the one he wants, the one he always admired whenever he was away. The picture was taken when she was asleep, he'd woken that night from a nightmare but as he looked over the sight stole his breathe and the dream with it. Pepper, his Pepper was sound asleep, one arm nestled beneath her head, the other stretched out on his thigh. Her blonde hair was sprawled along her face but it only highlighted her beauty. The picture was taken and he never let it go. It brought him comfort and curled the ache when he missed her.

It wasn't now.

"God, I'm sorry." He says in a whimper. His throat stings. "I should have been there. I was suppose to be there." His heart hurts. "You'd fucking hate me. You probably hate me." Tony doesn't believe in God, maybe his father is to blame for that. Howard believed and his mother believed but when Tony was old enough to ask questions, as children eventually do, Howard wasn't having it. He screamed and berated Tony, 'while under my roof you'll believe." Since then Tony refused to acknowledge religion, any aspects of it were nonexistent to him. His refusal of it was only heightened by his life, his mother dying, the great Captain America coming back to life, the wormhole, Ultron, Pepper leaving him; Bucky Barnes murdering his mother and then this. What a God force this upon someone?

Only now, he hoped it was real.

Tony wished more than anything that at least one aspect of it was real, Heaven. Those pearly white gates with fluffy white clouds where people had halos and dressed in long white robes. He wants her to be there, drinking poolside talking to some cabana boy as she sips on a glass of champagne.

He wants her happy. Even if she finds happiness away from him. If hating him makes her happy.

If she's watching down on him with a smile on her face as she takes pride in his pain. She'd hate him. That much is clear. He deserves this. He left her, he promised he'd protect her and instead of doing that, he let her die.

Tony sobs. His chest heaves and his throat burns as he mourns her. His everything. He hates himself and he hates the world. He doesn't deserve to live but he doesn't deserve to die, he wouldn't get to Heaven. He has has too much blood on his hands, years creating weapons that killed innocent people, his reign as Iron Man that resulted in lives being lost, Sokovia... Letting the world down. No God would allow him entry. He'd be welcomed straight into the bowels of Hell with the devil meeting his eye and a sinister smile on his face.

It's what he deserves to be tortured for his failure.

#Iron Man #Iron man fanfic #Iron Man fic #Iron man imagine #Robert Downey Jr #Robert downey jr fanfic #Robert downey jr fanfiction #Robert Downey jr fic #Robert downey jr imagine #RDJ #RDjunior #Tony Stark #Tony Stark fanfic #Tony Stark fanfiction #tony stark fic #Tony stark imagine #Downey #Anthony Stark #Anthony Stark fanfic #Anthony Stark fanfiction #Anthony Stark fic #Anthony Stark imagine

[kumkaniudaku]

Rock the Boat

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Sexual Content (18+)

Written By: @kumkaniudaku

ANYWHERE MASTER POST

Recommended Listening: Rock the Boat x Aaliyah

A second wake up didn’t result in another round, but it did provide needed rest for the busy wife and mother. Chadwick had crawled out of bed long before Tasha for a run along the island’s beach, leaving his lover to wake on her own time. For months on end, she was up at the first sign of daybreak, leading the charge to have everyone dressed and prepared for the day’s events before taking a second to compose herself. The need for relaxation was obviously present in the days leading up to the trip when she would trudge to bed and pass out in a heap at night. So for as long as she needed to sleep, he was willing to grant her that space.

By the time she sauntered out of the villa into the patio space, she was buzzing with renewed energy and a faint glow of sexual satisfaction.

“Well damn, if I’d have known you’d come out looking like that, I would’ve decided to have you for breakfast instead.”

Chadwick took in Tasha’s multicolor monokini and all it’s cutouts through her sheer cover-up as she made her way to his spot at the small table beside the pool. The front of her bathing suit presented her stomach to the world, still soft from carrying two children, but featuring more definition than she’d been accustomed to since Noah was born. In the back, the high cut design got a run for its money against her wide hips, becoming more of a thong than its original intention.

With his arms outstretched, Chadwick welcomed Tasha into his lap to pull her against his clothed chest and press kisses wherever bare skin greeted him. His lips against her shoulders sent a chill through her body that starkly contrasted the tropical heat around them.

“You heard what Micah said last night,” she giggled as she squirmed in his arms. “Don’t bring home any more babies.”

Chadwick chuckled at CoCo’s spot-on imitation of their oldest, “Where does she get this stuff from?”

“Probably my mama and aunties. They don’t make her go to sleep over there and she soaks in everything they say like a sponge.”

“Is that why she calls everybody honey now like she’s 65?”

“More than likely,” she laughed, recalling the time Micah calmly asked for more oatmeal in her bowl one morning before adding a southern ‘honey’ to the sentence for emphasis. At nearly seven years old, she’d only lived in Southern California, yet carried around the grace of a Southern Belle several years her senior.

“Anyway, what’s all this? I am starving!”

“This, my love, is the honeymoon special. That’s not what Niha called it, but I can’t remember so I renamed it.”

“Clever,” she laughed before sneaking a kiss to his cheek.

Peeling back the plate covers unleashed the perfect aromas of local delicacies and American fusions of traditional breakfast items that had Tasha’s mouth watering at first glance. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was while she was being treated to orgasm after orgasm. Now she was almost ravenous as she scrambled to find a fork and knife to dig in.

In the alone time, they’d been granted, Chadwick was able to take in the scope of his wife. It wasn’t that he didn’t know she was beautiful. That was obvious. It was the little nuances of her movements that kept him intrigued.

While he watched the apples of her cheeks rise in satisfaction as she enjoyed her meal, he contemplated sharing a piece of life-altering information that he had been sitting on.

“I talked to Angelique,” he casually introduced, causing his wife to slow down long enough to look at him over her shoulder. “She gave me some advice about our plan if you wanna hear it.”

Chadwick was met with silence before Tasha stood to transition from his lap to the seat across from him.

“Mmmkay. Go ahead.”

“Well, she said that it’s great that we want to do this and thinks we have a great chance of being approved.”

“But,” CoCo interjected. There had been nothing but good news followed by caveats from the moment they decided to embark on this journey. A ‘but’ was always expected at this point.

“But, we’ll need to seriously consider a few things.”

“We’ve been considering things for months. What else is there to consider?”

“Nothing major, baby. Just a few details like the size of the house, whether we want to do an open or closed situation, or if we should foster instead.”

“Let’s start with the size of the house.” The mood had clearly begun to sour as Tasha placed her utensils down in front of her to clasp her fingers and place them underneath her chin.

“She recommends shifting the kids around to make space for one more, but I recommend us moving altogether. Wait,” he interjected just as she opened her mouth to counter. “Hear me out. We can afford to move to somewhere down South. It’s cheaper, we’d be closer to our parents as they get up in age, and both of us are still able to work with no interruption to what we do now.”

“Okay, I can’t argue with you there. I still would rather adopt a small child though.”

“And we can do that. But, please, give fostering some thought. We could really help a kid. Not too old of course, but maybe around 8 or 9?”

“Aaron…”

“Think about it, baby. We don’t need to answer right now. Enjoy paradise and we’ll talk about it later. Deal?”

Finding it counterintuitive to further the touchy conversation while so much beauty and wonder surrounded them, CoCo used the napkin in her lap as her literal white flag and surrendered. There were still three days left to enjoy each other with no distractions and neither Chad or CoCo was willing to spoil it with problems from life back home.

“Alright, Pookie, you have complete control of my body and my time for the next three days. What we gettin’ into?”

“Complete control of your body and your time, huh?”

Their eyes met in equally provocative glances that still carried the embers of the flame ignited mere inches from their current positions.

Biting her lip, CoCo made a of show leaning across the table to address her husband. Her arms purposely pressed against her breasts to give Chadwick a full view of her cleavage spilling out of her bathing suit. Restraint kept his hands planted around his glass of orange juice, but his eyes were given permission to roam as they saw fit.

“Especially my body. Wherever…”

“Whenever,” he finished before letting his eyes travel to meet her dark brown orbs directly. “I’ll hold you to that. Until then, Niha will be back in a few to take us around the other islands. How you feel about snorkeling and jet skiing before lunch?”

“I feel like you just wanna see me wet and half naked all day.”

“Trust me, sweetheart, I can get you wet and completely naked right now if I need to.” The confidence in his matter of fact statement and half smirk made CoCo’s face heat up as she turned her head to hide a smile. Chadwick took notice and let out a full belly laugh.

“Don’t hide that pretty smile from me, girl. You know I’m right.”

“Where is this new level of nasty coming from, Mr. Boseman? I like it.”

Leaning across the table, Chadwick pulled Tasha’s hands into his to graze his lips across her knuckles. “You want me to be honest? I’m living out all the things I wanted to do with and to you when we talked about this all those years ago. Believe me when I say we’ve only scratched the surface.”

In CoCo’s mind, it seemed impossible to go any further than they had already gone. They’d had more sex in 16 hours than they’d had in 16 days in their own private corner of the world. If it all had to end right then, their half a day in the Maldives would still be heralded as their best excursion to date. What more was there to do?

When Niha returned to lay out the full itinerary, CoCo was worried that they would need an extra hour or two in the day to enjoy everything.

Every step of the way, they became drawn to each other like magnets. As the snorkeling guide gave rules and tips at the top of their session, Chadwick kept a hand at the small of Tasha’s back to make the occasional rub across her behind as inconspicuous as possible. A request for more sunscreen became CoCo’s excuse to run her hands across Chadwick’s back and chest more times than necessary. A warning from Niha about the legality of public displays of affection kept them from going too far, creating tension that would be useful for their time back at the villa.

With her body secure in his hold against the back loveseat of their passenger boat, CoCo allowed her eyes to close and her mind to truly take in the scope of what was happening around her. Chadwick felt her shoulders rise and fall in a deep sigh and tightened his grip around her.

“What you thinkin’,” he asked before placing a kiss on top of her head.

“I’m thinking that I am the luckiest girl in the world right now. You have made every one of my dreams come true.”

“You deserve it, baby.” In their first public show of affection that day, their lips came together in rapid sweet kisses and carefree giggles.

“So, you know,” CoCo started as she pulled away to lean against Chadwick. “I gotta step up my game for you this year. If you pull out any more surprises we may have to go to the Moon.”

“Maybe wait until this next one before you make the final decision.”

“What?”

Finally taking the time to pay attention to their route, Tasha noticed that they weren’t in the vicinity of their villa. Open water gave way to an unpopulated boating dock and a boat that carried two waving captains.

“We’re here, Mr. and Mrs. Boseman,” Niha smiled over her shoulders. Your captains for the night are Kyle and Aisar. They’ll take great care of you.”

“Uh, Niha, where exactly is here?”

Niha looked to Chadwick for permission to answer CoCo’s question which he granted with a lazy nod and smile.

“You are about to embark on a Kuoni sunset cruise. Your husband has requested total privacy for your evening. This is the perfect time to watch the sunset and spot a few dolphins during your outing.”

Tasha never got the chance to express her shock or gratitude. Niha’s boat came to a stop at the dock before they were carefully escorted from one mode of transportation to the next. The traditional dhoni, covered in exquisite handcrafted wood and billowing lateen sails, was covered in white roses in the section set aside for Chadwick and Tasha to enjoy alone. Glasses of sparkling wine were presented as gifts to pair a general rundown of the trip before they were left to enjoy the view alone.

Their tour took them past picturesque islands, unaffected and uninhabited, able to exist in gorgeous peace. Conversation flowed as easily as the drinks and, soon, the decision to relax against the plush pallet and pillows followed/

The gentle rock of the boat added serenity to the moment between husband and wife and sat side by side to watch the sun take its final resting spot beyond the horizon. A dolphin jumping out of the ocean for a brief hello made CoCo smile, as she stared into the distance. A gesture so tiny would’ve been overlooked by most, but Chadwick couldn’t bring himself to look away. 

If he had to choose, the moments when his wife was absorbed in her thoughts and with no concept of the world around her were his favorites. Her sunkissed skin absorbed the dwindling rays of sunshine and reflected them tenfold. Flecks of her college self still remained to mesh expertly with the more refined aspects of the beauty acquired through maturation. Chadwick would argue with anyone foolish enough to engage that his wife was the most stunning woman on Earth. But, instead of debating what needed no defense, he took her chin between his index and thumb to command her full attention.

“Can I get you anything else? More wine?”

“No, I think I’m good, babe. Thank you. For everything.”

Smiling, CoCo leaned in for a kiss filled with equal parts love and lust. With no one around,  the risk of offense lessened and she jumped at the opportunity to push the envelope. That simple mantra of whenever, wherever rolled around the corners of her mind as she leveraged her position to straddle Chadwick’s lap. His hands took their time on the journey to her hips before settling in their preferred position.

“Okay, so we’re going to Mars for your birthday. I’ll start booking as soon as we get back.”

Chadwick laughed and shook his head, “You don’t have to go that far. I trust we’ll have a good time either way.”

Both of them could feel the heat of the other through the thin material of their swimsuits as the shared another kiss, this time more intense than the soft pecks throughout the day. Chadwick’s fingertips pressed into the soft skin of CoCo’s waist and hips to guide her movements. He could feel and hear the excitement building as her breathing became shallow. This was the whenever and wherever they’d be searching for.  

At the swivel of her hips in his lap, Chadwick and Tasha shared a moan. Slow grinding was perfect for a night in, but time was waning.  was a sense of urgency in the way that CoCo slid her bathing suit to the side, prompting Chadwick to follow her lead and push his shorts down his thighs. He helped her lift to her knees before using his fingertips to work her pearl in slow circles. Tasha quickly reached down to take him in her palm, forming a half circle around his length to assist him in reaching the peak of his arousal.

“If we’re gonna do this,” Chadwick spoke as he exhaled. “You gotta promise you’ll be quiet.”

Laughing, she bent down to nip at his earlobe, “I was gonna say the same thing to you.”

Their hushed giggles were cut short by simultaneous and different curses. Knowing that time was of the essence, CoCo braced herself with both hands planted on Chadwick’s chest as he adjusted his angle beneath her. Audible sighs of pleasure were lost in the sounds around them while they watched him disappear inside of her inch by inch.

Tasha’s body readily accommodated the stinging stretch of him, hugging and massaging his dick with every rotation of her hips. Satisfied with the honey coating her thighs and his, CoCo planted her knees on either side of her husband’s hips to start a moderate bounce in his lap.

Chadwick was relegated to breathless moaning as Tasha took control. Her face screwed in acute focus, eyes clamped shut, head thrown back and her bottom lipped trapped beneath her teeth. The setting sun cast erotic shadows against the aged wood to transform their bodies into one being.

Her fluid motions became entrancing in the pinks and purples of the impending nightfall. The graceful rise and fall of her breasts matched the rhythmic roll of her hips, adding a visual to the sensation that never seemed to get old when they were together.

“Look at you,” Chadwick whispered into the crook of CoCo’s neck. “So pretty ridin’ daddy’s dick. You gon’ come like this?”

“Yessss!”

“Show me, baby. Don’t stop ‘til you come.”

A dull burn in her thighs did little deter the chase of her approaching orgasm as Tasha went into overdrive. Shifting back to a grinding motion gave her the range to satisfy the throbbing ache within while her clit repeatedly grazed his pelvis. Any extra coaxing would’ve sent her to take her place amongst the stars, which Chadwick knew and used to his advantage.

Firm pressure to her clit with the pad of his thumb gave her the final piece of the puzzle as she came undone in one tremor after the other. Finishing was no longer a priority for Chadwick. His chief concern was getting his wife to the crest of her wave in her favorite position.

Tasha dug her nails into her husband’s back to control the scream bubbling in her chest. At the height of her release, the faint sound of hooping and hollering in the distance felt like an odd hallucination.

“Yeaaaah! That’s how you enjoy the ocean!”

“Get it, girl! Nice moves!”

Tasha rushed to hide her face from the lively group of spectators as their dhoni’s passed in the night. Chadwick held her close to shield her from embarrassment though he found humor in the situation. The lack of light in the immediate area kept their identities concealed, removing the worry of ending up on the front page of a tabloid.

“Y’all have a nice night now,” Chadwick hollered back in the midst of his laughter.

“Same to you, buddy! Enjoy the honeymoon! Don’t do nothin’ we wouldn’t do!”

Chadwick accepted the unsolicited advice with a wave of his hand and a thank you until the visitors were no longer in sight. Collapsing on top of each other in a heap, Chadwick set off a string of laughs at the absurdity of the situation.

“I can not believe that just happened. We fucked on a boat and got caught by the only other tourists for miles. What is life right now?”

“You put on a damn good show though, baby. Maybe we can get some of that on camera later tonight?”

“On camera you say,” she asked with a playful glint in her eye. “Good. I think I’m ready for my close up.”

                                      ____________

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#Chadwick Boseman #chadwick boseman fan fiction #chad x coco #chadwick boseman imagine #chadwick boseman x reader #chadwick boseman x you

[spring-emerald]

third wheel’s the charm

“Hey!” Daichi welcomes Iwaizumi with a huge smile. “You’re just in time,” he step aside, clapping a hand on Iwaizumi’s shoulder as he lets him in.

“Thanks for having me,” Iwaizumi replies with a grin of his own. “I’m not the last one, am I?” He shrugs off his jacket from his shoulders, as Daichi closes the door behind him.

“No. We’re still waiting for one more. And, well, the pizza.”

“And Oikawa?”

Daichi snorts, shaking his head as he passes by him. “See for yourself,” he says, tipping his head to the direction of the living room.

Iwaizumi sighs, ridding himself of his jacket. He sits on the genkan, jacket folded up in his lap as he bends to start undoing the lace of his sneakers, the action completely automatic as he takes note of the other pairs of shoes neatly lined up then slips the guest slippers on. He can already hear the faint theme of a video game, coming from the living room. The meal is underway too, judging by the delicious smell wafting around the hallway.

With everything and everyone busy, he wondered who else is missing. Almost everyone he knows is already here but it’s a thought soon forgotten once he sees what his supposed best friend is up to.

Oikawa told him that they should meet up and go together to Sawamura and Kuroo’s housewarming party, and because he’s a good best friend despite his violent tendencies an apparently, a fool, Iwaizumi agreed. But then he texts Iwaizumi about change of plans the last minute, just as Iwaizumi arrived in their supposed meeting place, without even bothering to offer an explanation. Of course, he decided that he will smack Oikawa at the back of his head, once he sees him.

Not that he can do so at the moment, no matter how his hands are itching to strike him. Not with Oikawa -specifically Oikawa’s mouth- is latched onto Sugawara’s ears and neck, as they shamelessly flirt and pet each other, the latter sitting on Oikawa’s lap on a single loveseat that was moved into a small corner in the living room of a house that was not even their own.

The nasties.

Iwaizumi looks on with a grimace. It’s bad enough that he has to witness Oikawa flirt and be shameless, but he’s had a lot of practice in that department, unfortunately. He still can’t wrap his mind around Sugawara being one too.

But, well, he’s not stupid enough to incur Sugawara’s wrath for disrupting them. He may be Oikawa’s best friend and is given a free pass for the most part, but he’s not going to risk finding out until how far that pass extends. He’d really rather not cross Sugawara if he can help it. He opted to look around the other occupants of the room instead.

Bokuto and Ushijima are focused on the wide screen, obviously having an intense match against each other. That’s hardly anything new, because Bokuto always manages to rope Ushijima into any challenge he can think of. He doesn’t bother to stop and think if the challenge has any point at all except to make a fool out of themselves.

He’s competitive like that.

What’s unusual though is the fact that their respective boyfriends are sitting on their laps, despite having enough room on the sofa they’re currently occupying.

Asahi looks the most uncomfortable one, with shoulders hunched on himself, attempting to make himself smaller but can’t, sitting stiffly on Bokuto’s lap, watching the screen with worried eyes. He flinches and moves along each time Bokuto tilts to the side, controller (and him, inside Bokuto’s arms) in tow, as if that would make the car on the screen swerve in that direction.

Moniwa on the other hand, looks content leaning against Ushijima, head safely tucked on the crook of his neck, quietly watching the cars race with a small smile on his face. He occasionally murmurs something against Ushijima’s neck, probably encouragement, Iwaizumi can’t be sure and well, at this point, he doesn’t particularly care.

“Hey man,” Iwaizumi turns to look at Kuroo, who comes out of the kitchen to stand beside him and greets him with a clap on the back. “Glad you made it.”

“Hey,” he nods in greeting. “I’m not inclined to say the same,” his faces scrunched up in a small frown. “You guys should’ve told me that I will be a 9th wheel to all of you.”

Such is the life of a bachelor, Iwaizumi supposes. His circle of friends are respectively paired up and dating each other and there’s nothing wrong with it, as long as they’re all happy. He’s made peace with the fact that he will always be a third wheel and accepted that that is what life has become for him, especially when you have an overbearing best friend. But this… he can’t help but think that this is just rubbing it.

“You don’t like it? But you leveled up, because that’s three times more than the usual,” Kuroo says with a teasing smirk.

Iwaizumi levels him with an unimpressed look and smacks him on the tummy with the back of his arm rather harshly. Kuroo oomphs at the contact but laughs all the same.

“Shut up,” Iwaizumi huffs. “What’s their deal anyway?” he nods at the playing pairs.

“’M actually not sure,” Kuroo scratches the side of his head. “Last I heard, they were talking about cereals and someone mentioned lucky charms or something which diverted to the case of speaking of… and next thing I know, they asked if they can use the console. It’s probably Bokuto wanting to see who has the luckier boyfriend.” He shrugs.

“And they decided to test it with a video game?”

“Well, luck’s still a factor in playing. Even skilled players need luck on their side to win a game,” Kuroo says sagely. “But the overall research design is flawed,” he finishes with an empathic nod, as if that’s Iwaizumi’s concern to begin with.

Many times Iwaizumi’s wondered how he’s friends with these people. Then he remembers that he’s only ever friends with Oikawa, then Sawamura when they became roommates, and Ushijima, from being in the same team in college. The others, he met as extensions and because of their connections to each other.

He’s about to share this sentiment to Kuroo when Bokuto hoots loudly and jumps up from his seat, Asahi gripping tight on his shoulders. Bokuto doesn’t apologize for jostling him, but rains firm smacks on the cheek, babbling excitedly at how Asahi helped him win that round.

From the kitchen, Sawamura calls for Kuroo, which got him standing in attention.

“Oops, duty calls,” Kuroo turns to the kitchen’s direction. “Feel at home, Iwa-chan,” he says distractedly, not seeing Iwaizumi make face at the borrowed nickname. He leaves Iwaizumi standing rather awkwardly between the doorways. Iwaizumi scans the living room again, noticing that Oikawa and Suga’s flirting have escalated, lost in each other and safe in their own bubble and not bothered by the ruckus Bokuto and the rest are making just a few steps away from them.

Well, he definitely does not want to join either of the group, so he follows Kuroo to the kitchen. At least, with Sawamura busy, the two of them would be the most harmless and decent when it comes to their flirting.

Iwaizumi inhales the scent of cooking food, pinpointing the sizzling shrimps on a pan, before making a beeline to the refrigerator to fetch himself a cold can of beer before settling on one of the stools by the counter, pops it open and drinks. He watches as Kuroo casually puts a hand on the small part of Sawamura’s back as he leans down to taste the sauce he is offering up to him on a wooden spoon, licking his lips and rolling the taste around his tongue.

Kuroo nods enthusiastically at Sawamura and Iwaizumi hears the soft praise for getting the taste right and balanced. Sawamura is delighted by the compliment, apparent from the way a dimple is showing on his cheek as he smiles.

Iwaizumi feels like he’s intruding on something private and intimate, but he touches his smile on the rim of the can as he drinks again.

The doorbell dings, interrupting the tender moment between the two as they both flinch in surprise, and only then did they notice Iwaizumi also with them in the kitchen.

“That must be the pizza,” Sawamura says, a bit bashfully.

“I’ll get it,” Iwaizumi declares before Kuroo can peel himself away from Sawamura’s side, shooting up from the stool. He’s glad he finally has something to do other than watch his friends flirt.

“Thanks, Iwa-chan. The money’s on counter.”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes before swiping the bills and coins from the counter and goes to get the pizza.

But the person on the other side of the door isn’t the delivery guy.

Wrapped in a thick knitted scarf that covers the lower part of his face is a guy with light gray hair with black tips and stands only a bit shorter than Iwaizumi. The guy looks surprised at being greeted by him and steps back to look at the nameplate.

He hooks a finger and pulls the scarf down, revealing his whole face. “Uh… this is Sawamura’s residence, right?” He asks tentatively, brows dipping in slight confusion.

Iwaizumi blinks and hurriedly answers with a nod. “Yeah. You’re in the right house.”

The guy exhales a short, relieved breath. “Oh, I thought I made a mistake since it’s not him who opened the door, nor was it Kuroo-kun.”

“Uh… they’re busy.” Iwaizumi points a thumb behind him. “In the kitchen. Cooking. Um, you a friend of theirs?”

Wow, way to act dumb, Iwa-chan. A voice suspiciously sounding like Oikawa’s said inside his head and he shakes it off as he waits for the other to reply.

“Yes. I suppose you are one, too?”

“Yeah.”

They stand like that, awkwardly, blinking at each other without saying anything else for a few more moments until. “So, may I come in?” The guy motions his free hand forward.

Iwaizumi jumps slightly. “Ah, yeah.” He trips on his own shoes as he steps back to let the guy in.

“Is everything alright, Iwa- Kita! You made it!” Sawamura, coming out of the kitchen to check on Iwaizumi, exclaims upon seeing the newcomer.

“Good evening, Sawamura,” Kita nods at him. “Thank you for having me.”

Sawamura shakes his head with a smile. “How’s your trip?”

“It’s been well. Rather quick too, fortunately.” He hefts the paper bag he’s holding to Sawamura. “Some delicacies, from Obaa-chan.”

Sawamura gasps in delight and excitedly takes the present from him with two hands, then glances at Iwaizumi who’s still there. “Oh, yeah. Iwaizumi!”

Iwaizumi wince at being called, but notice the guy, Kita, turn his head to look at him. There’s something… unnerving about the way he’s looking at Iwaizumi, like recognition of sorts.

“It’s not the pizza guy,” Iwaizumi says, just to mask the tension he’s feeling.

Sawamura chuckles. “Yeah, it’s not. Iwaizumi, this is Kita Shinsuke. Kita, this is Iwaizumi Hajime.”

The way Sawamur’s brow lifted at the mention of his name, Iwaizumi knows that he’d been a subject of discussion with this guy. Also, the tone Sawamura used has enough emphasis for it to be casual. Which is unfair, Iwaizumi thinks. This is the first time he’s met this guy and his friends didn’t even tell him about another person within their circle. He doesn’t know anything about him except his name. Which he only got to knowing just now.

Some friends he has.

“It’s nice to meet you, Iwaizumi-san,” Kita bows politely, which flustered him and pulls him out of his ire.

“Ah… yeah. Uhm, me too. It’s nice to meet you too, Kita-san.”

Kita nods. “I’ve been told that you’re a certified third-wheeler too. Although, lately, I’m becoming a fifth wheel.”

Iwaizumi blinks. “What?”

“It’s nice to finally have a comrade.” Kita concludes seriously, as if he didn’t confuse Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi looks at Sawamura then, confusion clear in his expression.

Sawamura only laughs. “Have fun, you two,” he says unhelpfully, but playfully before leaving the two of them alone.

From the living room, Bokuto shouts in victory, startling Iwaizumi. Kita, on the other hand maintained an impassive expression, seemingly used to these kinds of things. “I’m glad I can talk to someone when they get busy with each other once again after dinner.”

Iwaizumi’s eyes widened in clarity, finally making sense of Kita’s words. Being a suspicious person, there’s already a niggling thought forming at the back of his head about how this whole thing is probably set up by his friends. But he happily files it away for later dissecting, because yes, he shares the same sentiments with Kita.

It’s nice not being the lone, tag-along for a change.

And maybe, just maybe… his friends are onto something.

#haikyuu!! #iwakita #iwaizumi hajime #kita shinsuke #hq fanfic #kurodai #oisuga #ushimoni #bokuasa

[bebecue]

Pancakes and Presents

Anonymous said: “Hi! Is there anyway I could request a fluffy Christmas fic for either Changkyun or Hyungwon? I absolutely love your writing! Thanks so much and hope you have a great holiday! 💖✨🎄”

A/N: okay okay I know I said I’d do requests in the order I received them, but since Christmas is very soon, I just had to put this one at the top of the list. (Also, I love Changkyun but I have had less requests for Hyungwon so I wrote this fluffy piece for him). Merry Christmas, you guys! (And if you don’t celebrate Christmas, then I hope you have a fun and safe holiday season)

Hyungwon | Fluff | 940 words

“Hyungwon, Hyungwon!”

“Mmmmm… five more minutes, please…”

You’re on your hands and knees on the bed you and Hyungwon share, leaning over his sprawled out form. The sheets are tangled around his legs, and he is covering his face with a pillow. You grab the pillow and try to tug it away from him, but he keeps hugging it and whines.

“Hyungwon, come on! It’s Christmas!”

He suddenly releases the pillow, and you almost fall off the bed. He then grabs the edge of the sheets and pulls it up over his head, tucking himself in. You cross your arms and huff, frustrated. 

“All right, fine. I’m having pancakes without you.”

You start to rise from the bed when Hyungwon’s hand shoots out from under the covers and grabs your wrist.

“Hey!” you exclaim, surprised.

He pulls you back into the bed and drapes an arm and a leg over you, spooning you from behind. 

“Five more minutes,” he whispers into the back of your neck.

You sigh, unable to resist. “Fine, five more minutes.”

You don’t know how you did it, but you have managed to drag Hyungwon out of bed. He sits on the couch cross-legged, watching the TV with glazed eyes.

You grin to yourself as you pour the pancake mix onto the frying pan. The smell of cinnamon and cooking batter fills the apartment, and Hyungwon turns towards you, his nostrils twitching.

“Are they ready yet?” he drawls. You can see him slowly becoming more alert, the smell of food doing a better job at waking him up than you did.

“Not yet,” you reply, flipping the pancake over. “Maybe if we hadn’t stayed in bed so long, they might have been ready now.”

Hyungwon grunts in reply, and you slide the first cooked pancake onto an empty plate, steam rising from it.

“Are we opening presents yet?”

The two of you are just lazing around on the couch, too full from breakfast to do anything else. Hyungwon sits somewhat upright, sipping coffee from a large mug, while you lean against him, drinking hot chocolate, your legs sprawled out on the rest of the loveseat. You have been watching late 90′s Christmas movies for the past few hours, only getting up once in a while to refill your mugs.

You sit up and turn to look at Hyungwon. He has a somewhat sly grin on his face, and you swear you see his eyes twinkle. 

You blink at him. “You said we weren’t doing presents this year.”

Hyungwon turns his attention to the TV, unable to hide the smile spreading across his face. “Maybe… maybe I’m backing out on that statement.”

“Great,” you say, standing up from the couch. “Because I got you something too.”

“Hey, wait-”

“Just go get your present, and I’ll get mine,” you interrupt, leaving Hyungwon on the couch, staring after you.

You watch Hyungwon eagerly as he rips the wrapping paper off of his present. He tears the last shred, and you see his expression go from curious to confused.

“This… this is…”

“A sweater!” you blurt out, unable to contain your excitement.

He holds two pieces of garment up. “But there are two of them.”

You laugh, amused by your own gag gift. “Couple sweaters, for you and me!”

Hyungwon looks at you, then at the sweaters in his hands. They are bright red, covered in green pompoms, and tacky white fur trimming. The design on the front of the sweaters is of a cat wearing a Santa hat, with a speech bubble saying ‘Purry X-Mas!’ coming out the side of its mouth. Hyungwon’s mouth opens and closes, while he decides on what to say. “I… uh… thank you?”

“It’s a joke, Hyungwon! Don’t worry if you don’t like it. It’s supposed to be funny.”

“Ah… ahahaha.” Hyungwon’s laugh sounds forced, and suddenly, you’re not sure if giving him a prank present was a smart move.

“Uh, from me,” Hyungwon says, grabbing a rectangular box from behind him. 

You take the box. It’s immaculately wrapped in bright red paper, with a green bow stuck on top. You take the bow off, and open the folds of the paper carefully, not wanting to damage the wrapping paper. You slide a dark box out from the wrapping. You place the box on the floor, and take the lid off carefully. 

Inside is a framed photograph collage of you and Hyungwon. Photos from when you went to the theme park together, photos of when you had your date at the zoo. There are photos of birthdays together, and some selfies where you used animal filters in them. Some photos are just random candid shots that you took of each other, just reminiscent of good memories. The photos are of times you had fun together in the past year, carefully selected and placed together in a thoughtful and sentimental collection.

For a few moments, you’re speechless. If you try to say anything, you feel like you might cry.

Hyungwon looks at you, and he speaks tentatively. “Do… do you like it?”

You place the frame carefully back into the box, then you lunge at Hyungwon, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I love it! Thank you! Thank you so much!”

You pull away from him, suddenly feeling guilty about your own gift to him. “Oh my god, Hyungwon, I’m so sorry, if I knew-”

“It’s fine,” Hyungwon says, laughing. He pulls you back into the hug, and pats you gently on the head. “There is one way you can make it up to me though,” he muses.

“How?”

“Make me some more of those pancakes.” 

#monsta x #monsta x scenarios #monsta x fanfic #monsta x reader #monsta x imagines #monsta x fluff #monsta x hyungwon #hyungwon #chae hyungwon #hyungwon fanfic #hyungwon fluff #rika.doc

[citrusrei]

Testosterone Boys

Reader x F*ckboi!Yoongi ft. Taehyung Synopsis: A little end of the year party tradition gets taken too far. Genre: Smutty, Angst Word Count: 7.1k Part 1 of 2

"No! It's not happening."  

"C'mon. It's harmless. Seriously, it'd be like a chill thing."

"No, Yoongi. There's no way I'm doing that."

"Why not? There's seriously no ill feelings behind it, I only need them for a little bit and then you'll get it back."

"Why can't you take no for an answer, Loser. I'm not giving you my underwear. Bye."  

Yoongi sighed as he followed you outside of the house party to the backyard. The music pounded through the walls from inside, blaring fast beats and obscene profanities, echoing past numerous houses down the street. The cold air hit your cheeks that were tinted red from the alcohol and the heat of the copious amounts of bodies 'bumping and grinding' on one another.  

Even outside, the yard was filled with scattered groups and couples. Each of them drinking from those infamous red, plastic cups, taking hits off of each others blunts, or connected to their partners lips. Pushing past them was no easy task, consistently bumping into intoxicated bodies as you made your way to the empty swinging loveseat.

You ran your hand through your hair as you sat, attempting to catch a breath. The party was suffocating. It seemed as though people flooded every room, corner, crevice and pocket the household had. The bathroom; occupied by two girls from your Literature class going down on the All-Star Quarterback whose only response to the disturbance was "Do you wanna join?"

The bedrooms were either locked and if they weren't you wouldn't dare go into them anyways. Oh no, you'd learned your lesson the first time you'd ever gone to a house party of this size. Turns out, High Schoolers were a lot kinkier than you could ever have thought.  

Any other room was full of people trying too hard to impress their peers when in the end it didn't even matter. You never saw the point in these fiascos. High School lasts 4 years and then it's over with and you don't ever see these people again. They weren't important to you in the long run.

So, why were you here in the first place? Well you could thank your 'best friend' for that. Park Jimin. After well, years, of begging for you to try another party saying, "It won't be like the first one, I promise. I won't leave your side and we'll have fun, just the two of us, okay?" He finally got you to agree to try it once more making him swear he really wouldn't leave you alone at any point during the party. But, here he was; weak as a kitten as soon as his ex walked in, begging for some alone time to 'talk'.

"I'll be right back, she only wants to talk. Okay?" He said, being dragged away by the tall blonde behind him.  

"Jimin, you promised you wouldn't leave me. What am I going to do until you get back?" You gripped onto his arm before he could be pulled away any farther which earned you a dirty look from the girl trying to take him from you.

Jimin sighed, eyes glancing around the room to see if he could find a friendly, familiar face to keep you company while he was gone. His eyes went into half moons once he found the broad-shouldered man attempting to pick up some brunette girl who could have never met his standards in the first place, very brutally turning him down.

"Hey, Jin!" Jimin yelled, waving him over to the two of you. You didn't mind Jin. He was tall, handsome, and nice. However, he was a huge airhead and his conversations skills were awkward, to put it nicely.  

Jin left the brunette without another word, clumsily making his way over to you both. A smile was plastered to the boys face as he reached you, waving shyly as he uttered a small "Hi."

You smiled back, trying to be nice even though your best friend had literally just broken his promise to you.  

"Jin, I'm going to step out for a couple minutes. Do you mind keeping (Y/N) company until I come back?" He asked. Jin's eyes widened at Jimin's request, nodding almost instantly. "Of course! T-That's no problem! I will most definitely keep her company, man!"  

Your eyes rolled at the taller man's drunk actions as he high fived Jimin before turning to you, ready for whatever conversation was about to happen. Jimin laughed, yelling a "I'll be right back!" Before being dragged off into the crowd by the blonde girl.  

You and Jin stood there a few minutes before talking, slightly moving to the music and enjoying the concoction in the cup you currently held. "So, Jin," You began, "How's Mr. Woo's class treating you?" Jin grunted at the mention of your shared class, "Don't even get me started. It's like that man has it out for me or something." You laughed at his expression before it turned serious, "Hey, it looks like there's an empty spot open on the couch. You wanna sit?" He asked. You nodded, following him to the seats.  

"So, what about you? What's been going on in your life? You single?" Jin's questions fired one after another. You could tell he wasn't the best at talking to girls and the two of you had never really talked much before the party but, you felt bad, so you went along with it.  

"Ah, not much. Just trying to graduate," You laughed, earning a chuckle from him, "But yeah, I'm single."

Jin's eyebrows raised as he took another sip of his drink, "You're single?! You?!" He asked, shocked. You sat there confused as to why he was so shook from your 'being single' revelation. You just nodded slightly, a flush of pink staining your cheeks. Were you supposed to be dating someone? Or was he going to laugh at your for your relationship status?  

"But, you're so pretty!" He yelled. Your eyes shot open at his statement. You? Pretty? Jin thought you were pretty? It was a huge compliment in your opinion, but he wasn't really your type, if you had one. Sure, he was sweet and handsome and in the past you'd thought about what it would be like to kiss those plump lips of his but, he was boring. He was the type to text you "what's up?" And just say "cool" when you responded. You weren't looking for a relationship, especially since you were to graduate and head off to a far away University in a few months, but if you were, you wanted someone who was a bit more interesting than Seokjin.

"Oh! Thank you?" You said, not sure of anything else you could say to him besides a "I'm not interested in you."

"No problem," He blushed, his eyes going down to your lips, "I'm just really shocked that you aren't seeing anyone." Jin scooched closer to the point where your legs were now touching. You tried backing away but unfortunately you were met with the arm of the couch.  

"It's just that, I'm not super interested in seeing anyone righ-"

"Can I kiss you?" He interrupted. Your eyes widened as you flung your hand up to his chest, opening your mouth to utter a firm 'NO.' But it was too late and Jin's lips met yours in what was the most uncomfortable, awkward, sloppy kiss of your life.  

His lips were soft, which was the only plus, but they were wet and he used too much spit as he attempted to snake his tongue into your mouth. Thankfully, after the shock of the kiss subsided, your strength returned and you pushed his greasy mouth off of yours. His body met the person behind him with a loud thud, causing them to yell at him.

"Jin!" You shouted, wiping away the excess saliva with the back of your hand. "What? I thought you were into it!" Your eyes rolled as you stood from your seat, leaving Jin to himself in what could only be described as a state of confusion, wondering where he could have went wrong.

Once reaching the kitchen, you downed the remnants of your drink and poured yourself another one, chugging half of it down easily. "I'm not drunk enough for all this." You mumbled.  

"That was harsh." A voice said from behind you, laughing to himself. You scoffed before turning to meet the trace of the voice. It was none other than Min Yoongi.

Infamous Min Yoongi. The schools "bad boy" or whatever. Loves weed, getting high and staying high. Oh, and girls - well, fucking girls. It was the name he made for himself. And you were not into it at all.

Yoongi reeked of the pungent skunk smell, causing you to scrunch your nose up. "Excuse me?" You asked. His gummy smile that had panties dropping left and right was ever so present on his face.

"Back there with Jin. It seems pretty clear to me he's into you. You should have gave him a chance. He's a nice guy." Your eyes rolled at Yoongi's statement. Was he in any position to be giving you relationship advice right now?

"I'm sorry, are you my relationship counselor or something?" 

Yoongi smirked, "I could be if you wanted me to, Kitten. I'll be anything you want."

"Ew, bye." You turned back towards the table to grab your drink. You weren't going to stay at this party with drunk, touchy feely Jin or Mr. IWannaFuckAnythingThatHasLegs. Jimin would understand.

"Okay, fuck. Wait dude," He strained, grabbing your arm before you could get any further away.

"I have a proposition for you." Your eyebrows quirked in curiosity before settling into a look of annoyance.  

"Yoongi, I'm not having sex with you. You might be able to talk all those other girls into it but, I'm not falling for it." Shock grazed Yoongi's features which turned into, what was that? Sadness? It was only brief, however, until that same gummy smile returned.

"Don't worry, Kitten. I don't want to be between your legs anyways. At least, not tonight." He winked, "no, this is something only slightly more interesting."

You sighed, rolling your eyes again and placing your drink back on to the kitchen counter.  

"Alright. What's your proposition?" 

Your face was stoic, totally uninterested in what ever proposition Yoongi had to offer tonight. There was no way in Hell you were going to fuck him, if that's what he wanted. Or do any sexual favor for that matter. Even if he did look extra handsome tonight with his dark hair covering his eyebrows, and falling into his eyes slightly. Or how the outfit he wore complimented his figure perfectly. The black jeans we wore were snug against his legs and it showcased just how muscular his thighs were. The loose black sweater gave off the impression that he really didn't give a fuck. It was tattered and torn on places on the sleeves and torso. But, damn, did he look good. Did it get hot in here?

"I need your underwear."

Your eyes widened as your jaw hit the floor. My underwear? What kind of sick, pervert just asks for underwear and why would he need it?

"My what?!" You screeched. Yoongi flung his hand to cover your mouth, sending tendrils of his scent towards you. The same skunk smell was now mixed with what you picked up as spearmint and maybe lavender? Whatever it was, you found yourself breathing in a little bit deeper.

"Shh! People will start looking and talking. I really don't think you're the type to want to be seen with me." He hushed.

"You're damn right I don't!" Yoongi's eyes rolled as he pushed up against you slightly, causing you to back into the counter.  

"C'mon, (Y/N)… It's just underwear. I'll give it back after the party."

"No! It's not happening." Your cheeks heated up due to the new position you found yourself in, but your answer remained adamant. You weren’t about to fall for his stupid advances.

"C'mon. It's harmless. Seriously, it'd be like a chill thing."

"No, Yoongi. There's no way I'm doing that." Why couldn't he take no for an answer? The skirt you wore tonight needed something underneath, even if it was just your underwear. You couldn't imagine what you'd do if someone saw you exposed like that. You'd probably die of embarrassment.

"Why not? There's seriously no ill feelings behind it, I only need them for a little bit and then you'll get them back."

"Why can't you take no for an answer, Loser. I'm not giving you my underwear. Bye."

And here you were. Sitting alone on the bench swing outside of some party that's really turned out to be a dud. You could see Yoongi making his way to you and you groaned outwardly as you closed your eyes and leaned your head against the back of the swing. Almost immediately after you shut the world out, you felt a presence sit next to you, causing an unpleasant gurgle to come from the back of your throat.

"Can't you just leave me alone?" You begged.

"Oh, I didn't know you were having a rough night. I just saw you by yourself and I thought you were too pretty to be alone." This wasn't Yoongi's voice? Your eyes opened abruptly and your head flung towards the new person who decided to bother you.

Shock settled on to your features as you realized who was talking to you. Kim Taehyung. Better known as Mr. I Have Straight A's Yet I'm Still Captain Of The Rugby Team And Volunteer For My Church On The Weekends And Am Enrolled In Extra Curricular Courses After School Every Tuesday Through Friday And Still Have Time To Have Fun. To put it simply, too good for you.

"O-Oh, so-sorry! I-I didn't realize it was y-you." You rushed. Your words failed you and you were making an even bigger fool of yourself in front of the schools “hottest” guy. But even then, all Taehyung did was smile.

"It's okay, Dear. You're happier to see me than whoever you were expecting though, right?" He grinned, his mouth forming a near perfect rectangle that made your heart leap into your throat. You nodded almost involuntarily, only causing him to let out a quiet laugh as his half mooned eyes gazed at you.

"So," he began, "can I ask who irked you in the first place?"

"It was me." A voice huffed from behind you. "(Y/N), let's just talk, yeah?"

Taehyung looked up to the man towering over you. His eyes squinted as he winced at the sight of him before smirking. His reaction confused you. Did they know each other? Do they not like one another? Not that you'd ask them out loud. It wasn’t your place to begin with.

"Yoongi, just leave her alone. It seems like you've bothered the girl enough." Taehyung chuckled to himself, standing up to Yoongi as if he were sizing him up.

"Just stay out of it? You're always in everyone's business." Yoongi groaned, knitting his eyebrows together. Taehyung just smiled.

"(Y/N). He was bothering you, yes?" You nodded meekly to Taehyung's question as he turned from you back to the man before him, "and you want him to leave you alone, right?" You nodded again; stronger this time. This guy wanted your underwear for some perverted reason and there was no way he was going to get them, so yeah, you wanted him to leave you alone.

"See? Just back off." Taehyung said, his tone turning rough. Yoongi's eyes shut before looking to you, seeing if there was any kind of detest to his statement. When he saw none, he sighed again, turning to make his leave, muttering a "Whatever, it's not worth it anyways" causing your eyebrows to quirk.  

"There you go, he shouldn't be bothering you for a while." Taehyung laughed, sitting next to you again. You mumbled a thanks, still wondering what Yoongi could have meant by his whole "it's not worth it". What wasn't worth it?

"Don't mind him," He said, realizing that your gaze was still on Yoongi who had just re-entered the house, "He's high. He's probably just mad I cockblocked him." You laughed at this, making Taehyung smile at you, even though he was confused at your sudden outburst.

"Me? Sleep with Yoongi? No way. That'd never happen. There was nothing going on. He was being weird." Taehyung scooted closer to you, resting his arm around the back of the swing, enclosing you.

"Like what was he saying?" You blushed as you recalled Yoongi's words, finding yourself growing shy talking about such things with Taehyung.

"H-He said he wanted my u-underwear..." You stuttered, sending Tae's eyebrows into his hairline before a knowing look placed itself on him.

"Ah, looks like you're one of the targets of this year's 'Panty Fight'." He hummed, his hand mindlessly reaching up to your head and grabbing a piece of your hair, fiddling with it in between his fingers.

"Panty Fight?" You asked, causing Taehyung to laugh, his eyes looking into yours.

"Yeah, it's what that little group of friends does every year at parties before the school year ends. They pick 3 random girls to fight over for their panties. Looks like you were targeted. I'm surprised though, most girls usually give into Yoongi's advances."

"I'm not like most girls." You said instantaneously, a random boost of confidence finding you. It almost shocked you how quickly you retorted with that.

"Ah," Taehyung mused, "You're not, are you?" His gaze skipped from your lips to your nose to your eyes and back to your lips again. Slowly, you felt yourself doing the same. When did he get so close?

"Maybe you should show me what you're actually like then?" And then, his lips were on yours.

Your eyes widened only for a moment before fluttering shut, savoring the gently kiss. When was the next time this would happen? His mouth was so soft, it felt as though you were kissing air, lips ghosting over yours as his tongue beckoned for an entrance to which you granted permission to immediately.

Your mouths melded together as your tongues danced hand in hand. You could feel your cheeks heating up and you sure you were the color of a beet. Taehyung's hand slipped up to cup your cheek while the other planted itself on your waist, playing with the hem of your thin t-shirt. Your hands balled up in his chest, unsure what exactly to do with them but soon you for yourself comfortable enough to bring them up to his neck.  

Here you were; buddied up to your schools most well known student, playing fucking tonsil hockey with him. This was not how you expected your night to go. But thanks to the alcohol you could feel running through your veins now, and Taehyung's sweet words, you felt as though you could let loose. Even if that meant hooking up with some random guy. It was a end of the year party, after all. Plus you were graduating soon, just let yourself have fun.

"Babe," Taehyung breathed, pulling away from you. His breath was ragged and heavy as his blown out eyes looked into yours, causing your lungs to almost collapse.

"Let's take it upstairs, okay?" You nodded and he pecked your lips again, lingering for a bit before grabbing your hand and dragging you back towards the house.

Once inside, everything was a blur. All you knew was that you and the hottest guy in school were about to fuck and you weren't going to let anything ruin that. Not even the nagging voice in the back of your head that called your name as Taehyung led you upstairs. Was that even in your head? Or was someone actually calling for you? At this point, you didn't care.

You two reached a random room, barging in as Taehyung's lips found yours again. Thankfully, no one was in there, not that you would have cared at this point, you would have just kicked them out.  

Taehyung's hands flew under your shirt, gripping the hems and pulling it off of your body. Your mouths clashed against one another as he roamed your body. He backed you up against the bed, gently pushing you against the mattress as his lips dove for your neck. You let out a soft whimper as he left hot kisses down your jaw to your collarbones, his left hand going for your breasts. He kneaded them through your bra causing you to moan again, this time a bit louder.

"Fuck, babe. You sound so cute." He snarled against your chest, licking his way down to your navel and even lower.  

Once he made it to the top of your skirt, his hands gripped the waistband, pulling it off easily. You knew he had a reputation for hooking up. Not one of Yoongi's that's for sure, but still. You were no virgin however, and even though this was a one time thing, you were going to let it happen.  

Taehyung spread your legs slightly, getting a sight of your already damp mound.

"These panties should be illegal." He grunted, bringing one digit to your slit and running it down the course of the material.  

"Do you mind?" He said, hooking his fingers underneath the band, and you shook your head, mentally urging him to hurry up.

In a swift motion, he peeled off your soaked panties and your eyes closed, waiting for any kind of touch. But it never came.

You peeped your eyes open to find Taehyung standing before you, a smug smile on his lips, your blue undergarments in his grip. He looked at you and grinned harder, causing confusion to run through you.

"Sorry, babe," He teased, his smile turning into a that of a snake, "but, you were targeted. I gotta live up to my end of the bet too, huh? " He laughed, throwing your skirt and shirt to you before turning to leave the room. 

“Also, it seems as though you are exactly like other girls.” He added before slamming the door shut.

Your eyebrows knitted together as it hit you; Taehyung had been in on the bet- and he won. You were naïve enough to think someone like him would ever hook up with you and when it happened he used you to win some bet you didn't even know the prize to. Now, you were panty-less.

You were livid.

You threw your clothes on, not even noticing your short skirt was on backwards and stormed out the bedroom. No attention was paid to the people around you. You bumped and knocked into several people, even spilling a drink or two. But, you couldn't have cared less. You were getting your underwear back, and that was final.

"Read it and weep, boys. I got her underwear. Miss Prude of the Century herself. Look, you can even still see the wet spot!" Taehyung boasted, the panties being showcased to his friends in the corner of the living room. Namjoon rolled his eyes, not quite yet admitting defeat as there were still two more girls to get from. Hoseok sighed, realizing his last chance to get any was lost considering the other two girls had turned him down.

Yoongi walked up to the boys, a drink in his hand as he huffed into the cup, sipping the contents. "Man, is it just me or are these girls harder to get this year?" He complained, Hoseok nodding along with him.

"You get rejected by all of them?" Namjoon laughed. Yoongi glanced at him before skimming the room in search for nothing in particular.

"Not all of them. There's still Jisoo. Nara was down for it but I've hooked up with her in the past and that's not a road I want to go down again."

"What about (Y/N)?" Taehyung teased, hiding the underwear from the clueless Yoongi.

Yoongi's eyes squinted at the man next to him before speaking, "I probably could have got hers if you hadn't stepped in, asshole." He whined causing Taehyung to roar into a fit of laughter.

"You could have gotten Jisoo or Nara, I don't understand why you had to go and steal her from me." Yoongi continued.  

Taehyung brought a finger to his chin while the other hand containing the panties went behind his back. "Why are you going on about it? Do you think she's pretty? Do you like her?" He teased causing Yoongi to scowl.

"Shut up. She's alright, I suppose. But she was probably the easiest candidate. I tried a different approach with her which failed. I would have started flirting if Asshat here hadn't shown up."

"What did you try?" Hoseok asked.

"I just asked her to borrow her underwear and I'd give them back after I won the bet." Yoongi said nonchalantly. All three boys looked at him as if he were crazy. His only response was to take another sip of his drink.

"You what?!" Hoseok howled, keeping himself from sputtering out a laugh.

"You're fucking dumb, man..." Namjoon trailed off, eyeing Jisoo as she downed three shots back to back. "I think I'm going to go try my luck again, congrats on getting first place, loser." He trailed off, shoving his way past Yoongi and Taehyung.

"First place?" Yoongi quipped, looking at Hoseok who put his hands up in defeat and pointing towards the man next to him.

"You heard it right, Min Yoongi. I've acquired a pair of blue, cotton panties. They even got a cute bow on the front too, see?" Taehyung said holding up the treasure from behind his back causing the dark haired man to study them.

"Are they Nara's?" He asked, secretly hoping that they were. Otherwise he'd be "fucking pissed" if they were yours, to which...

"Nope, they're (Y/N)'s! I just got them from her like 5 minutes ago." He smirked, knowing that it irked Yoongi to no other that he was in possession of something as precious as your underwear.

It was no secret to the group of friends that Yoongi had a certain liking for you. Everytime you'd walk passed them in the hallway with Jimin they'd find that Yoongi would stare for just a second too long. Or in the classes you shared, he'd always choose a seat somewhere not too far from you. He'd make excuses up like he didn't understand how your best friend could be a boy or that he sat near you because you happened to be one of the top ranked students for chemistry which he "sucked ass" at. To which Namjoon and Taehyung would make jokes and tease him for his weak lies while Hoseok thought it was romantic. Maybe Yoongi himself even thought it was a bit weird that he liked to surround himself with you and maybe you could call it a crush, but he'd never admit that to himself.  

"They're... they're who's?" Taehyung laughed at Yoongi's blank expression, grabbing his hand and stuffing the panties into his palm.  

"Here, I've already won the bet. I don't need these anymore. You can have 'em. They're even still wet. Have a nice jerk to them, yeah?" He teased, walking away from the two men. Yoongi stood frozen, his fingers subconsciously wrapping around the damp fabric while Hoseok awkwardly took a drink from his cup.  

"O-Oh look at that, my drink is gone. I'll get a refill." He said, heading towards the direction of the kitchen before turning back to the burned out man.

"Don't worry, man... It's Tae we're talking about. I bet he didn't even fuck her... Maybe." And with that he walked off leaving Yoongi to fester in his anger.

Yeah, Taehyung didn't know about his little infatuation with the good girl but that didn't give him the right to go and hook up with her, right? Why hadn't you just let him borrow them for 20 minutes? Why did you have to go and fuck Taehyung? Why did you let him? Taehyung was worse than Yoongi! Didn't you know that? Thoughts whizzed through Yoongi's head at a rapid fire speed. He was mad at himself and he was mad at you and he was mad at Taehyung so, he decided to do what any level headed teenager would usually do to rid himself of anger; drink.

Once downstairs, you wandered the living room and the den searching for the dickwad, Taehyung. But unfortunately, he was nowhere to be found.

'He better not have left.' You thought, sighing as your rubbed your thighs together, feeling embarrassed from your lack of undergarments. You groaned reaching for your phone that you'd stuffed in your bra, checking for any texts from Jimin or literally anyone at this point. You mindlessly scrolled through your empty message box, texting a quick 'where are you?' To Jimin before someone bumped into you, causing your phone to slip from your fingertips and cascade to the ground.

"Ah! I'm so sorry!" The voice said. You sighed, reaching down for the phone.

"It's fine, just watch where you're going next time."

"Whoa! Who's going commando?" A voice catcalled from behind you, causing your eyes to widen and your cheeks to heat up. You stood up quickly, leaving the stranger to grab your phone before turning to meet the announcer of your nudity. Jin.

"(Y/N)! I didn't know you were that type of girl! Look, I really messed up back there. You think maybe we could...uh... try again?" He winked, causing you to scowl and turn back to the person who had picked up your phone.  

A pink tint was adorned on his cheeks and his lips parted slightly, indicating that he in fact did hear Seokjin. This party had turned out to be yet another disaster proving to yourself that this is why you don't come to them in the first place.

"A-ah, here. Sorry, sorry." The guy mumbled, handing over your phone which thankfully survived the fall. Jin took his leave, mumbling something about how he'd talk to you later and maybe try again? You didn't know and honestly, you really didn't care.

"It's okay... um, what's your name?" You asked the kid. He looked young, well, maybe a year or so younger than you at least.  

"O-Oh, it's Jungkook. You're (Y/N), right?" You nodded, inspecting your phone for any dinks, to which you found none.  

"You a sophomore?" You asked, Jungkook shook his head, "A junior. We had choir together last year."  

"Choir? Oh, yeah..." You said, trailing off, suddenly remembering him. He was a lot smaller then; a lot more bunny like. Looking at him now, you could tell puberty had been treating him well, noting the subtle muscles peaking through his loose white button up.

"You were that kid with the great voice. The one who got all the solos!" You laughed, causing him to smile as well.  

"Yeah that was me. But hey, I remember you having a decent voice too!" He joked.

"Decent?! I sound like a dying horse when I sing!" Jungkook let out a small laugh, grinning up to you.

"Yeah, maybe some of the time you did..." Your eyes widened and you found your hand instinctively going up to hit his shoulder, uttering a loud 'Hey!'

"Sorry, I'm only kidding!" He chuckled, "So, who are you here with?"

Your eyes rolled, remembering your so-called friend who'd left you high and dry as soon as his girlfriend walked in.  

"I'm here with my friend, well, I was. But he left me so I'm just here. I was looking for someone though. He has a debt to pay." Jungkook's eyes widened before he looked at you knowingly.

"Let me guess. Someone took your underwear?" You glanced at him, your eyes squinting slightly before looking behind him, still in search of Dickwad, as you currently dubbed him.

"How'd you know?" You sighed. Jungkook let out a breathy laugh before continuing, "Well with what Jin had said about you. Plus I know it's a tradition."

"What, you're in on it too!" You accused, causing him to furiously shake his head.  

"No way! I only know about it because my brother was a part of their friend group before he graduated a few years back. He'd get first place every year and he'd always boast about it while he showed me the video."

"The video?" You asked, your interest piquing.

"Yeah, the punishment? The person to not get a pair of underwear has to streak around the party. They have until like midnight or something to acquire some and then the person who loses... well yeah. It's really embarrassing if you ask me. I don't understand why they do it."

You understood why not only Taehyung but Yoongi wanted your underwear so desperately. You wouldn't have wanted to streak around a party of this size either. Not that you were going to give them the benefit of the doubt, though. It was a dumb bet that they all knew the consequences to yet still all agreed. And you still wanted your underwear back.  

"They're so fucking dumb." You mumbled, shoving your phone back into your bra and looking up to Jungkook.

"Well, it seems as though I have some business I still need to take care of. It was nice talking with you, Jungkook. Maybe we'll see each other around sometime?" You smiled, walking towards the kitchen, causing another blush to creep up on to his cheeks. He nodded.

"Yes, definitely. And, (Y/N)?" He said, stopping you.

"Yeah?"

"I hope you find your underwear." You felt your cheeks heat up slightly as the weight of the fact that he knew you were panty-less dawned on you and you nodded shyly, walking away from him.

"Yoongi! I know I was targeted this year, just sleep with me and I'll let you have my underwear!" Nara whined, gripping on to Yoongi's shoulder with her red polished fingers. She pecked wet kisses up his jaw, stopping at his earlobe and nipping it. Yoongi growled in response. Not in the sense that he was turned on, but that he wanted her to stop. He'd already denied her once tonight. He figured that was enough.

"Stop." He hissed, downing the remains of his drink. Yoongi reached for the bottle of whiskey in front of him, quickly pouring himself a half glass, not bothering it to mix it with anything.

"But, Yoongiiiiii...." She whined, only irritating him further.

"I'm horny." Yoongi pushed her off his shoulder uttering, Go fuck Hoseok then, and made his way back to the backyard.

The fresh air hit Yoongi's flushed cheeks and soothed them. He was impressed by his alcohol tolerance as he was already on his fifth drink and he only felt a little buzzed.

"I need a joint." He breathed, resting his elbows on the railing to the porch.

"Have you seen Taehyung?" A voice asked from behind him. Your voice. All Yoongi wanted was a moment of peace and quiet. Couldn't he get that?

"Nope." He said, popping the 'p' at the end. He took another swig from the red cup and reaching into his jeans pocket.  

Yoongi pulled a small hand-rolled blunt from his pocket along with his red bic lighter. He huffed on the cig lightly, taking in a long breath of the smoke before exhaling.

"You want some?" He offered. You shook your head, glancing around the backyard in search for any trace of Taehyung. You realized if you were going to beat him up, you wanted to be sober. And that's what you wanted to do. Knock his lights out.

"No, thanks though. Are you sure you haven't seen him? I need to get something back from him." Yoongi's cheeks turned a shade darker, knowing that you were in fact talking about your underwear but what you didn't know what that Tae didn't have them at all. They were stuffed into Yoongi's pocket.

"What do you need from him?" He questioned, turning to you. You watched as he took another puff, the smoke tendrils twisting from his mouth and into the atmosphere almost had you in a daze. Since when did you find smoking hot?

"Hello?" He said, waving his free hand in front of your face.

"O-Oh, right. Um, just. Just nevermind. Tell me if you find him." And with that, you walked away, leaving Yoongi to scoff and take another puff from his joint before putting it out and stuffing the remainder into his pocket. He absentmindedly thumbed the fabric of your panties before sighing.  

You should have just gave them to her, dumbass.  

"Of course, he'd be no help." You said to yourself as you shut the sliding glass door behind you.  

"There you are!" Jimin yelled, rushing over to you.

"I've been looking all over for you! This party is a bust, you wanna leave?" You squinted up at the pink haired man before speaking, "Where's Camille?"

He winced, scoffing in the process, "Who cares? That was a waste of time. Let's go rent a movie and get snacks from the corner store."  

You smiled up to your best friend, nodding along with him.

"Okay, there's something I have to do though. Have you seen Taehyung?"

"Kim Taehyung?" Jimin gasped, "Uh, yeah. He just sat down on the couch right as I came back from upstairs. Why?"  

"Don’t worry. It'll be quick. I'll meet you outside, okay?"

"So you got Jisoo's underwear. One more left?" Taehyung laughed, inspecting the dark purple thong in Namjoons hand.

"Yup. Looks like Hoseok is going to be this years streaker." Namjoon smirked, putting the underwear back into his coat pocket.

"Wasn't he the streaker last year?" The boys laughed together before Hoseok walked up to them and taking a seat on the coffee table.

"Looks like there's one girl left. I just got Nara's!" He howled, the red fabric sticking out from his pocket.

"What?! That means..." Taehyung and Namjoon looked to one another, leaving Hoseok wondering what they were on about.

"Kim Taehyung!" You yelled, making your way to the couch.

Taehyung smiled and stood to face you, putting on his best puppy dog face. He figured you'd be upset, maybe even cry. He was never expecting what was coming next.

"Hey, Babe," He cooed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "Ready to finish what we started?"

You scowled, brushing his hand away from your face. Your anger bubbled up into your throat and it tasted like acid. Just another second (Y/N). Get your underwear back, then knock him out.  

"As if," You huffed, "Where's my underwear?"

Taehyung laughed, "I don't have them, babe. Fuck, that means your bare under that short ass skirt of yours? That's so hot." His hands snaked themselves around your waist and you thought you could have thrown up on him then and there. Kim Taehyung, you're going to regret this.

"I'm not playing, asshole. Give them to me." Around this time is when people surrounding you guys including, Hoseok, Namjoon, and even Jimin started listening in on your conversation but you didn't mind an audience. Oh no, you wanted the world to see you knock Kim Taehyung out cold.  

"I'm serious, babe. I don't have your undies. I sure wish I did though, they were fucking adorable."

"Alright, Tae. Humor me. If you don't have them. Then who does?" You sighed. Your anger was at the back of your throat now and your fists clenched. You were sure your knuckles were almost white.

Taehyung laughed once again, bringing his fingers to your chin to turn your gaze to his.

"Min. Yoon. Gi."

AN: I am writing a part two to this so don’t worry about the lil cliff hanger lol. I hope you guys like it! Leave some feedback <3~

#kpop #kpop scenarios #bts #bts scenarios #bangtan #bangtan scenarios #bangtan boys #bangtan boys scenarios #kpop smut #bts smut #min yoongi #suga #suga scenarios #yoongi scenarios #kim taehyung #taehyung scenarios #v scenarios #v bts #suga bts #kim namjoon #jung hoseok #jeon jungkook #park jimin #kim seokjin

[iwanttowriteyou]

Dive in; C.H.

“It all started five years ago in a sketchy bar somewhere in downtown London. I don’t even remember what area, but it was called Dive and it was filled with old men. The band had broken up for the summer, and I couldn’t bear not playing for two straight months. I played for free. They had live entertainment, I had something to keep me busy.” I smile, looking up at the ceiling as I recall the day I had met her.

My fingers were slowly strumming, not sure what to play next and buying myself some time to decide. That’s when she walked in. Her hair was in an uptight bun, high, as her hips slowly waved from side to side. Her heels clicked along the tiles, her legs exposed as a form flattering dress swayed just above her knees. She was some sort of a business woman, that’s what her outfit screamed anyway.

I squint at her due to dim lighting, wondering what someone like her would be doing in a place like this. She slides onto one of the lone bar seats in the back. As her head turns to nod in a greeting to the resident bar occupant, I’m glued to her vibrant, dazzling smile. Her eyes flick to me and I feel myself swallow harshly as she shoots me a breath taking smile.

I smile in return, immediately knowing the song I wanted to play next. It was something about confessing young love, about moments shared with one another, something that was constantly blaring on the radio, but it voiced my immediate feelings for her.

Her head perks up when I strum the first chords, a bright grin straining my lips as I lean towards the mic. Her eyes are trained on me for the whole song, her head not even turning to order her drink. I don’t know how or when, but when I finish it’s placed in front of her. Maybe the bartender knows her usual. I can’t keep my eyes off of her either.

Maybe if I play my cards right, I have a shot with this girl. I finish the song. I’m used to not gaining any attention from the local attendees, other than a pat on the back when I slide beside them at the bar. She actually starts clapping, setting my whole body alight. I set my guitar down, deciding on a little break. I hoped I wasn’t misreading the signals I was given.

“Hi baby.” I sit down, motioning for the bartender for my usual, as I turn to the auroral lady beside me. She licks her lips slowly, a smirk creeping onto her features as she takes a sip of her whiskey. “Don’t call me baby, unless you mean it.” She chuckles, both of her hands raising towards her head as she undoes the tight bun that kept her hair in place.

Her hair flows over her shoulders in such a glamorous, gentle way I’m pulled into a small trance that forces me to rethink what she had actually said to me. “Who says I don’t mean it?”

“Do you call every girl you speak to baby?” She bites her lip devilishly as she turns towards me, leaning onto her right arm which is placed on the bar. I’m quite taken aback, not expecting her to react like this – but I like it.

“Only to the ones that take my breath away. I’m Calum.” I lick my lips as I let my gaze flick from her eyes to her lips and back up. My eyes are trained on her lips as she speaks. “I’m Y/n.”

“A charming name for a stunning woman.” I don’t smile, I don’t wink, I just state something that was altogether obvious for me. She smirks and I know she doesn’t believe me. “Aren’t you the charmer!” Y/n giggles into her hand, shaking her head as she briefly turns to take a small sip of her glass. She seems to be contemplating something and I wait patiently until she speaks again.

“Aren’t you in that band? What are you doing here?” Her head turns back towards me with a raised eyebrow. Somehow I’m glad she recognized me, but I’m even more thrilled she doesn’t seem a fan. Or maybe just one that keeps her calm. I’m talking to someone in full business attire anyway, while I’m sporting my ripped jeans and one of my old band shirts. But she doesn’t act any differently.

“Well, I’m occupying myself for now. We’re on a break.” I smile tight lipped, nodding my head to give my statement some power and watch as she gazes from my face to the rest of my body.

“Ah well. Big fan.” She winks and switches her crossed legs, her leg slowly swaying as she stares straight into my eyes with a small smile. I can’t help as the next few words flutter from my lips, drawing an immediately giggle from her lips. I like her giggle and I would jump out of an aeroplane if it meant I could hear it for the rest of my life.

“You’re quite a mystery, Y/n.”

“Well, Calum. What do you want to know about me?”

I hung onto the words she spoke whole night. She didn’t mind that my face was rather known around the world – to remain humble, of course – but asked me the stupid, everyday questions that were required on a first date – not that this was one. She told me about her job, how she recently had gotten a flat for herself, and how proud she was to have accomplished all that by herself.

To be honest, I’m quite surprised I had even heard a word she said. The way her eyes would crinkle when she laughed, her biting her lip, her hands toying with her loose hair had me otherwise preoccupied. She was beautiful and she had absolutely no idea.

I had to ask her out. I had to see her again and preferably when I was better dressed for the occasion and there wasn’t an old, grumpy man constantly coughing behind me. I am absentmindedly fumbling with my fingers, trying to come up with a way to convince her to go out with me.

“Hey, I have to bail. But maybe we can do this again?” Y/n speaks up as she gets her wallet out of her purse, motioning to the bartender before smiling vibrantly my way. My head shoots up, the corners of my mouth bending as high as they can possibly get. “Of course. It would be my pleasure.”

She scribbles something down onto a piece of paper she pulls out of her wallet, holding it towards me, clutched between her pointer and middle finger. I frown as I take the small card, eliciting an explanation from her.

“I don’t have my phone on me. This is my number. I’m free tomorrow night, accidentally.” She hints, shrugging her shoulders as she drops the change she received back into her wallet. I can’t help but let the chuckle flow past my lips before I swipe my tongue along my bottom lip.

“Well then, expect a very awkward phone call tomorrow.” It draws a full-on laugh from Y/n’s lips and I know that I don’t have to worry about this first date. I’m going to be nervous no matter what, but knowing she liked my stupid humour took a bit of the tension off of my shoulders.

“Ah, I’ll await it patiently.” Her hand leans onto my shoulder as she hops off of the bar seat. She leans in, pressing her lips against my cheek. It heats up immediately after her presence leaves and I watch her walk out of the vacant bar, heels clicking in the same rhythmic tone she had entered with.

 “But daddy, how did you know that mum was the one?” My little girl’s big, ablaze gaze stares up at me. She has her mother’s eyes, and when I glanced upon them for the first time, I fell in love all over again.

“Well sweetheart,” I start off, holding my hand out for her to take. She crawls off of the plush carpet and immediately onto my lap, her small arms laced around my neck as I lean back in the loveseat. “I could fall, or fly. And your mum made me do both, very, very quick.”

“Did she give you butterflies?” She mumbles bewildered, her gaze following mine as I see Y/n appear in the door opening that leads towards our kitchen. “So much I thought I was going to explode!” I gasp, squeezing her side as she falls into a fit of giggles.

“I am glad you didn’t explode.” It draws a laugh from my lips as I press them against her temple. Y/n wanders towards us, rubbing her hands along a towel she’s holding, her smile as radiant as it had always been. I pat the armrest, inviting her into our little tête-a-tête, and she flatters herself down next to me. Her arm winds around my neck and she leans down, pressing our lips together briefly.

“Will there never be anyone else?” She decides to question my motives, but she was a mommy’s girl to begin with. She squints at me, trying to glare even, but her smile breaks through. I think she knows how smitten I am with her mum.

“I have travelled the world, and I thought there would never be a girl like her. But then you were born.”

Let me know what you think!

Lots of love, L. xox

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