Tumgik
#his hair reminds me of strawberry milk and now i want some
neopuppy · 2 years
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Teddy Bear (M)
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Preview: The day you met Haechan remains one of your fondest memories.
The day he moved away reminds you that you’ve lived through heartbreak once before.
“We’ll talk everyday!” Haechan’s round cheeks bunched up. Throwing his arms around you with all of his might. Enough to make you stumble into him.
If he hadn’t lied, maybe the memory would hurt less.
Pairing: Jeno x female reader
Word Count: 8.3k+
Genre: College AU, one shot, pwp, heavy dubcon/noncon elements(don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable. thanks.), dark fic, M/F
Warning: bullying, questionable ‘happy’ ending, drug use mentioned once, possessive/obsessive behavior, lies deceit manipulation etc.
Smut Warning: misuse of a plushie, oral(M), degradation, thigh riding, bulging, dacryphilia, dumbification, breeding
“Hey! I picked that first!” Refusing to let go of the volume 1 Uzumaki that you’ve scoured through shelves for weeks to read, you practically collide into a pile of shipment boxes.
“NO! I did!” The boy in front of you wastes no time to play dirty, shuffling closer without loosening his grip on the manga. Side swiping one of your legs swiftly with his foot until you fall. Landing on a pile of hard and soft cover books with breath knocked from your lungs. He smiles largely, Uzumaki held above his head in victory. “That’s what you get!”
Blowing spit and sticking out his tongue, he breaks into a run toward the exit. Willing yourself back on your feet, you charge after him until you’re close enough to reach for hair flying off his head with each slam of his feet. Inches from the door, he’s yanked back. Fisting a chunk of silky dark locks, you dig your heels to the floor. Screaming like a banshee, throwing your weight forward to knock him down.
“Ahhh!” He screams mortifyingly loud, whining and writhing away from underneath you. Book clutched under both arms to his chest. “Get off of me!”
“Give me back the book!”
“No!” Shouting, he struggles, dramatically falling back flat. Feet kicking behind you against the ground. “Why are you so strong!”
“I have to help my mother carry crates of fruit to the farmer’s market every week.” You explain, grabbing a tuft of his hair to pull on again. Agony streaks his delicate features, button nose scrunched up drawing out a hiss.
“Stopppp, that hurts!” Sighing, he blinks. Water filled doll-like eyes stare up at you. Weakening the hold on his scalp, you settle back. Just realizing the awkward position you’ve landed yourself in, butt pressed down on his flat stomach. “Listen.”
Shaking off your hand, he pushes up on his elbows. Coyly smiling, big enough for the bridge of his nose to scrunch. “We can share it.”
“What??”
“The manga, we can read it together!” He pipes up as if it’s the most brilliant idea.
“No. I don’t want to.” You mumble, pushing up to stand. “I don’t even know you.”
He sits up too, rubbing the tender spot that throbs painful on his head. “I’m Haechan!”
“I don’t care.”
An annoyed huff pushes air out between his lips. Settling on his knees, book in one hand. His smile grows wider. “You might not care, but now you know me.”
The day you met Haechan remains one of your fondest memories.
The day he moved away reminds you that you’ve lived through heartbreak once before.
“We’ll talk everyday!” Haechan’s round cheeks bunched up. Throwing his arms around you with all of his might. Enough to make you stumble into him.
If he hadn’t lied, maybe the memory would hurt less.
Haechan bribes you with a paper bowl of steaming hot convenience store ramen. “If you share the book with me, I’ll share my noodles with you. Hey, I’ll even buy you some strawberry milk.”
The rumble your stomach gives is almost too perfect. Haechan smiling, dragging you back to the reading nook in the small comic store.
“You’re reading too fast!” He exclaims, splashing soup broth across the page. “I haven’t even finished this panel yet!”
“You read too slow!”
“Hey,” he leans back, arching a brow. “You’re kind of mean huh? I like that.”
Instead of pleasing him with a response, you throw the paperback at his lap. “Fine, you turn the pages. My arms tired anyway.”
“Mean girl.” Haechan mumbles, smirking. Offering you a forkful of noodles. Unsure if it’s anger or nerves filling your cheeks with a flush of heat.
That’s how you end up spending summer indoors. Cooped up together inside of the comic book store sharing your favorite recommendations with each other. Haechan preferred more gore and action, which made sense when you first read Uzumaki together.
Mentioning he wanted to reread it a couple of months later but was unable to find it anywhere. Probably because you kept it in a box under your bed along with the now empty bottle of strawberry milk he bought you. Plus the various coin machine prizes he’d won over time and offered to you. Claiming ‘I already have that’.
It’s not that you have a crush on Haechan. You like him. He’s nice, always smiling, and never reacts to the attitude you give him. He’s more insistent you hang out than you can understand.
“You’re moving?” By the time next summer rolls around, Haechan’s stomping around in front of you. Pulling out different mangas and putting them back in frustration.
“My dad’s been working on some mobile app for years.” He starts to explain. “I don’t know, this rich CEO in Seoul purchased it for like….a lot. Dad said we have to relocate, there’s way more opportunity in Seoul..”
“That’s good, I’m sure your families really proud of him..” doing your best to sound happy. You pretend to find the book in your hands much more interesting than it is. Seoul’s a 5 hour drive away, a little more than 3 by bullet train. Not that you could afford a ticket, never even venturing further than 5 miles from the only town you’ve ever known.
Haechan plops down next to you dropping his bouncy head of hair down on your shoulder. “Seoul’s really far..”
“I’ve never been..”
“You wouldn’t come visit me?” He turns to ask, the tip of his nose faintly grazing your cheek. Digging your two front teeth into your lower lip to placate the nerves that jump out of nowhere.
“Seoul is really expensive..” Haechan’s mouth droops to one side, upset by your answer.
“..Will you at least come by tomorrow when I leave?”
“Of course I will.” You assure, shifting to allow a small area to form between your bodies. Haechan had a habit of intruding on your personal space. Whereas you avoid affection, he craves it. Enjoys sharing everything, clinging on to your arms and shoulders whenever you hang out together. Making it difficult to dislike him even when you try to convince yourself he has negative traits.
The most negative being that he’d be moving away. Too far away.
“My dad bought me an iPhone,” Haechan beams, already customizing the phone’s background to a photo of Ryuk. “Here’s my number, you can text me.. when you get a phone..”
Drifting off on the last few words, he’s fast to change the atmosphere. Pressing his growing body to your side, slower than the growth spurt you’d experienced recently. He pushes up on to his toes planting a wet kiss to your cheek.
“Don’t forget about me?” Haechan whispers, brown pools tinted orange honey twinkling hopefully.
Running off, he waves, leaving behind a phone number scribbled on your palm and a trace of pouty lips on your skin. Burning in the aftermath.
That would be the last time Haechan spoke to you as a friend.
——————————————————-
“You remember the Lee family? That little boy you used to hang out with.” Your mom casually mentions over lunch one day. Age written over her features beyond her years. Today had been a tough one, unloading heavy crates only for a thunderstorm to ruin the chance of making any money.
“Sure.” You mumble, nursing a spoonful of hot soup hoping that will warm you up better than the weak fireplace you tried to start up with more ashes than logs.
“There’s these ads going around, sponsoring a child that comes from poverty.” She starts, sliding the newspaper your way. Big bold letters about an underdog hero, modern day Robin Hood giving back to his community. “You’re too smart for the school systems your father and I can afford.”
“This is a charity case.” You reply distastefully, reading the description. Full scholarship ride and housing covered, guaranteed a position to intern at Mr. Lee’s company to complete your credits.
“I’ve sent in an application for you.” She smiles, smoothing out a folded paper. “You’re one of the top 5, but you have to interview in Seoul. I don’t want you to struggle the way we have anymore.”
“I’m not struggling mom, I don’t want to move to Seoul.” You say, avoiding the letter. She sighs, biting back her tongue.
“Your dad has been putting in overtime, this weekend you will take the bullet train to Seoul. I cannot go with you, but I know you will flourish and achieve great things. You can be better than Mr. Lee even.” She finalizes, clasping her hands together. “We must find you something suitable to wear.”
She’s not wrong, over the years you work hard. Assisting your mother in any way with her job to make ends meet. Throttling yourself into nothing but studying, even growing less interested in the hobbies you once indulged in as a kid.
Things became more clear with time. That alone is obvious as you look at the second hand iPhone you started a piggy-bank for after Haechan moved. Able to pay for it and the cheapest service you could find finally after 4 years. It felt too late by then to bother texting him, it’s not as if he ever bothered to call.
Your mother was right, of course, Mr. Lee had gone from a broke engineer to a successful one developing various softwares for mobile phones and computers. His story is one you see spoken of often in newspapers and magazines, a local millionaire lifting his life up from nothing to a success overnight. It only took him 10 years, not that it ever gets mentioned.
“You’re the perfect example of prospering despite the environment you’ve been raised in.” Is what a woman wearing heels too high and a perfectly tight ponytail lifting her brows to two sharp lines says across from you. “I can’t wait to see your development, with an IQ like this there is no way you won’t soar to the top of your class.”
There is no way. Until there is.
‘I am still too shy to tell you how much I really like you. Given our current circumstances, I don’t think it’s the right time for us to take this next step. I hope you will have patience with me. In the meantime I will continue to admire your beauty at a distance. Pray for my heart, it hasn’t beat at a normal pace since you arrived.
-Your Teddy Bear’
The note crinkles between your fingertips. Lodged beneath a stuffed teddy bear plush that’s hanging from your locker. Attached by a string that has been neatly wrapped into a bow. The plush has silky brown fur, a patch of a red heart shot through by an arrow on its chest. It’s from the build-a-bear store, custom made, special, just for you.
‘Your Teddy Bear’ rereading the signature draws nausea up to your throat. It was no secret as to who walked around campus proudly nicknamed ‘baby bear’ because of his gentle cute resemblance to the animal.
Haechan Lee even sported a small fuzzy brown bear patch on his varsity jacket. One his girlfriend had insisted on ironing on to it after she began to steal the jacket off of him. The nickname was harmless, cute, yet made your stomach churn to read again.
“Aren’t you too old to carry around a stuffed animal?” Jeno’s locker rickashay’s loudly next to you. Breaking your stupor that’s held you in place long enough to miss the morning announcements. “Immature, don’t you think?”
Instead of acknowledging Jeno with any type of response, you shove the plush inside your bag. Distracted by punching it down to the bottom, the note drops from your hold landing at Jeno’s feet. He’s bending to pick it up before you’ve noticed, beginning to recite it outloud where he stands by your side.
“Pray for my heart?” Jeno scoffs. Throwing in a snorted laugh as you spin to face him. Shooting out your arm to snatch the note away from him. His laugh grows louder, shifting to perch on his toes and create longer distance between your limbs. “Don’t tell me you have a secret admirer? You??”
Jeno laughs boisterously at your jumping and cursing. Swatting at his bicep to retrieve the letter. “As if anyone would ever take an interest in you out of any of the girls enrolled. The only admiration anyone has for you is to make fun of these Good Will thrifted outfits you try to make look fashionable.”
Jeno mocks you, pinching your sweater at the shoulder as if you’re too disgusting to touch. His nose scrunching up, shaking away the material. “You’re worse than a pest. These scholarship programs just let in any trash off the street these days. Fucking charity cases.”
If you weren’t familiar with Jeno’s insufferable torment by now, you’d jump at the chance to talk back. Having to bite your tongue to resist the urge. A lesson he made sure you were quick to learn after the first week of the semester.
“Big mistake.” Jeno said after your belongings spilled out of your backpack. An uncapped black sharpie dropped on his white high-top Chuck Taylor’s. The tiniest, most minuscule black dot left behind on the toe of his foot.
Needless to say, your introduction was not an easy one. It just so happened that Jeno headed the same direction to his first class. Shoving past you with more aggression than necessary into the lecture hall. Of course he had the same morning class as you, because the universe had no reason to assist you. Not if Jeno Lee had any say about it.
Jeno could have sat anywhere, rows of empty seats up and down the aisles. Tons left in the back for anyone who preferred to zone out, catch more sleep. That would be logical, right? Instead he opted to sit directly behind you. Whispering up close to your ear, digging the pointed tips of a compass into your shoulder blade.
“Snitch, I dare you.” Jeno hissed. Chomping on gum noisily directly into your ear.
Stretching out his leg, Jeno drops his foot on your upper thigh. Bending at the knee with intention to leave a shoe print behind on your leg. He leans over closer, until only an inch of his butt sits on the lecture chair. “I just got these for school. Brand new pair, last left in my size.”
He grunts annoyed. Dragging the sharp compass down hard enough to leave lines on the back of your shirt. Jeno’s foot digs harder until he has your teeth clenched to bite down a pained whimper. “Should have you lick it until it’s clean. Better yet, bring your toothbrush tomorrow. Scrub them until they look fresh out of the factory.”
To say you started off on the wrong foot, literally, with Jeno would be an understatement. From that day forward he made sure to crowd into your space. Whether it be during class, or at your locker.
“Hey, Jeno dude. What’s going on here?” A voice carries down the hall. Jeno’s eyelashes flutter shut with irritation, forcing a cheerful smile on. He throws an arm around your shoulder, turning to face Haechan’s approaching figure.
“Hey man! Ah, you know. This one is always begging to see what snacks I have in my bag.” Jeno fabricates some story. Much too quick and sly for his own good. “I try to tell her, it’s a surprise for class!”
Haechan squints between the two of you. His girlfriend, Sinclair, waves at various friends passing by in a rush to class. With his arm wrapped around her waist as they enter the building. The epitome of a university’s power couple, especially in their matching Balenciaga sweaters today.
“If I remember correctly, she likes to eat ramen packets dry.” Haechan adds. Acknowledging you with a wink. “At least that was one of our favorites to share when we were kids.”
“That’s perfect, because there is no way I have time to warm up this cup of noodles before class now.” Jeno goes on lying. Pulling a face as the first bell to get your ass to class rings blaringly loud.
“Catch you at lunch, yeah?” Haechan waves your direction, lifting his chin Jeno’s way with a ‘later’. Moving along with Sinclair to their perspective classes.
Jeno groans, whipping his arm away with extra force. Purposefully jamming his hip into your side until you visibly grimace. Colliding against the set of lockers behind you.
“Be careful!” Jeno exclaims with large eyes. His palms slap onto your waist roughly, pushing you harder into the lockers. The handle and a large lock on one digs into your spine. Jeno’s gaze falls flat, eyelids thinning down to slits with a hardened expression. “You wouldn’t want to hurt yourself, now would you?”
He lets you go abruptly, spinning on his heel to catch up to a group of his friends. Not before stepping back swiftly to catch you off guard. Jeno’s shoulder budges against yours, making your back clatter into the lockers again with a groan. A sneer spreads across his lips, hand laid flat on the center of your stomach to keep you held in place.
“Watch out for yourself now, Teddy.” Jeno grins. “You never know who’s really watching you.”
——————————————————-
Focusing in class had been easier said than done after this morning's ordeal. Jeno’s taunts hardly bothered you as much as he probably wished for, but the teddy bear suffocating at the bottom of your bag did.
It couldn’t actually be from Haechan? Not after the less than enthusiastic way he greeted you upon recognizing each other during your first week. He made it apparent enough that he’d prefer for you to not mention the truth behind how you two knew each other.
It happened over lunch one day, Haechan must have felt guilty after borrowing your notes the week before. Inviting you to join his group of friends, insisting that you do.
That’s how you end up clenching your teeth next to Jeno. Jeno who immediately creates a tense air asking if Haechan knows you or something.
“Well yeah we, uh.. her mother! Used to deliver fruits and vegetables to my house. We would hang out as kids.. sometimes.” Haechan stares at you for a minute. Sighing before sporting a fake smile. “She’s in my dad’s scholarship program now.”
Sinclair giggles at that by his side. Turning to her best friend with a brand new iPhone covering her whispering lips. A photo of Haechan pressing a kiss to her cheek covering the case. Exactly, Haechan has a girlfriend.. A perfect, high class, designer wearing, spoiled princess.
Jeno leans over once Haechan manages to redirect the topic back to nonsense about sports. “That’s not how you really know each other is it?”
If your childhood friend wanted to wish for the past to never exist, why shouldn’t you?
“That is, my mother used to deliver fresh produce to his families estate.” You lie, feigning confidence. Jeno scowls, pressing in closer near your ear for no one else to listen.
“You smell like a liar.” He turns just slightly, letting strands of your hair trace across the bridge of his nose. “Like dirt poor trash, someone who had to work for pennies and dimes since childhood.”
A shout threatens to rip free past your lips. Jolting straight, you face Jeno abruptly. Defined brows lift, egging you to do something. ‘Snitch, I dare you.’ That’s what he said.
The old you would have fought back, the naive innocent you that hadn’t been crushed by the weight of harsh existence yet.
“Did you bring you your toothbrush?” Jeno sneaks up on you a few days after your unforgettable meeting. This time you were at least smart enough to hide the note in your pocket when he spoke.
‘I enjoy watching you study. You probably have no idea how your forehead wrinkles, how often you huff and groan to yourself. Writing so pretty and neat, everything about you is so perfect, isn’t it? I hope you will study with me one day. I’m willing to bet there is so much you can teach me.
-Your Teddy Bear’
Haechan had asked to borrow your notes in the library yesterday.
“You’re in Bio-Chem too?” He notes, peeping over your shoulder. “Wow, you’re smart huh? No wonder my dad won’t shut up about you.”
Haechan’s tongue clicks, whining about how he’s failing the course. “Can I borrow your notes? I really need to ace this next exam. Promise I’ll give them back.”
By now for as smart as you are, you should know he’s no good with promises. What he’s good at is resting his head on your shoulder, batting his pretty eyes. Poking out his lips in an irritatingly cute pouty shape.
“You know, no one knows I used to be poor.” Haechan brings it up one day. Stretching and cracking his back while seated next to you in the library. None of his friends ever seemed to venture into these parts..
“Are you ashamed of where you came from?” You ponder, keeping your eyes trained on words jumbling together. Even his voice had become more mesmerizing to listen to than you’d prefer to admit.
“No?” Haechan sounds confused, cheeks bouncing side to side in thought. “Maybe I am.”
“I think you are.”
“I’ve changed a lot right?” Haechan smiles, obviously happy about that.
“You definitely have.” Looking over his face, you think, a lot is an understatement. A once cute playful boy selfless enough to split his favorite candy bars with you. Erased and replaced by an arrogant lazy snob who couldn’t even bother to finish his assignments.
All the years you wondered once in a while what had become of your special friend Haechan. Has Seoul treated him well? Did he adapt nicely?
He changed, you changed, but even knowing this you held a shred of hope that your teddy bear could still be somewhere in there.
“Hey,” Jeno pushes on your spine, crashing chest first into your locker. “I asked you something, are you dumb?”
“What do you want me to answer first?” You mumble annoyed.
“Pfft.” Jeno glances around, taking a hold of your arm from behind. “You’re talking back to me?”
Walking down the hall, Jeno moves you with him outside. Trudging past groups with people waving and smiling whenever anyone greets him. “Let me guess, you did not bring your toothbrush?”
“Can’t you leave me alone today? I have an exam in an hour.” You argue, attempting to free yourself from his hold. Jeno scoffs at that, pushing you inside a bathroom that’s luckily empty.
“You like to play dumb, don’t you?” With no warning, Jeno cups your shoulders forcing you down onto your knees. Quickly throwing an old toothbrush at your face. He leans back against the door, foot landing on your thigh. “You want to study? Start cleaning.”
“What the fuck? No!” Anger takes over, refusing to indulge this sick game Jeno’s taken to playing. He’d have to find someone else to victimize today.
“Did I ask?” Jeno balls your hair up in fists, pulling until your back arches. Stunned, your jaw flies open, regrettably moaning.
It shouldn’t feel good. It doesn’t feel good, but it does.
Clamping your lips together, you’re fast to look away. Not fast enough for Jeno to miss it. “Disgusting.” He snickers.
That doesn’t stop a smirk from painting his lips. Pulling the tufts of hair harder until you’re swallowing back humiliating moans. Each pull loosening the tension and stress locking your neck in place. Weeks of worry and fear, constantly dwelling on the future.
“You like this, don’t you?” Jeno smiles, lapping his lower lip. Instead of answering you reach for the toothbrush, pressing it to the foot that’s still stepping heavily on your leg. “Nu-uh, that won’t do dumby.”
Roughly throwing your head down until you fold over, Jeno orders for you to lick his shoe clean first. “You think that’s going to get clean by just brushing it? God, how stupid are you?”
The memory of dragging your wet tongue across the minuscule black dot on Jeno’s new shoes sickens you. Playing like a VHS tape that’s been rewinded one too many times, constantly skipping scenes, showing the same one over and over again.
The worst part was when he demanded you finish the job with a kiss. “Consider it an apology for ruining my fucking day.”
That’s what Jeno said, discreetly adjusting his crotch before stepping out heading to class.
Each day turned into another strategic move, Jeno sat across from you. Knocking over your chessman, slowly draining you of any will to fight against him.
“You love studying so much, don’t fucking move.” Jeno sets a third thick hardcover book down. Sweats trickling down your forehead, salty wetness landing between the split of your lips. Resisting the urge to whimper and cry. Arms ready to give out under the weight of books he’s forced you to carry in each hand while on your knees.
“You always have your face buried in these books.” Jeno mumbles from behind. Pulling your hair into two separate sections to grab on. “Do you see how even the things you love can hurt you.”
Those words echoed through your mind often as well. Most of the time he had nothing nice to say, well, he never had anything nice to say.
Sometimes he made sense. He played a role like everyone else, smiling and boasting about upcoming trips. All the places he’s traveled to, the luxury sports car he spent every weekend waxing off until it sparkled like glitter.
It’d become a routine. Sleep. Study. Evade Jeno. Reread the daily notes from your teddy bear.
‘You looked so pretty today, I noticed your lip color matched your nails. Was that for me? Do you know I’m watching you? I’m always watching you. I want you to be mine, we’re the same you and I.
If you want to meet me, please bring the teddy bear to school tomorrow and meet me in Room 0423.
-Your Teddy Bear’
——————————————————-
Room 0423 hasn’t been occupied in years. Construction put on hiatus in favor of building a new wing, the end of the hallway you walk through hasn’t been in use since a freak fire some years back. Charred lockers and messed up tiling. Only a few of the rooms near the entrance are still put to use for the photography classes to use as dark rooms. It was rare to ever find students in the area. Other than when Jeno would drag you to one of the empty bathrooms nearby.
If someone wanted to meet in private it made sense to do it in the abandoned building, not that knowing that did anything to quill your nerves.
The room itself isn’t in such bad shape. Mostly dusty bookshelves and window sills from lack of maintenance. For the most part completely unharmed by the fire, accumulating debris and ashes from air circulation.
Even the chalkboard looked freshly washed still, tracing your finger across it with hardly any marks left behind. No sign of life, empty memories.
“You’re here.” A voice you know too well to easily confuse for Haechan startles you enough to jump up with a gasp. Jeno struts between the rows of desks, the door clicking shut behind him. His necks arched back displaying the full width of his muscular throat, prominent Adam’s apple. Shoulders solid and broad with hands in his pockets tapering his waist even more.
“Jeno?” Confusions more evident in the wrinkle between your brows. Tightly clutching the teddy bear plush to your chest the closer Jeno comes. Only stopping once there’s hardly any space left between the two of you, just enough to loom a dark shadow over your figure. “What are you doing here?”
“You know what I’m doing here.” Jeno rolls his eyes. Neck loosening in a stretch side to side cracking with each precise movement. “Oh..”
The tips of his fingers graze his upper lip, eyes large by the stretch of his brow yanking them to fully open. Emitting a mocking gasp, his lips part open to add more shock. “Right. You really thought Haechan was the one sending you those letters didn’t you?”
“Did he tell you about this?” You wonder, Jeno is one of Haechan’s best friends after all..
“My stupid teddy bear.” Jeno smirks, tugging on the bear's ear squeezed to death in your grasp. “I thought you were smart and would figure it out sooner. You must really like him to act this brainless.”
“What.. you—?” Jeno lets out a sarcastic gasp, wide gaze adding mockery.
“There’s that dim light bulb.” He snarls, hissing between his teeth. “I made it so obvious, didn’t I? The thing is, you so desperately wanted it to be Haechan..”
“I don’t get it, why would you? You hate me that much?” Of course it wasn’t Haechan. Not Haechan who didn’t even want to remember the times you cherished.
“Not at all.” Jeno coo’s when your eyes start to water. “I’ve thought about it..” his head tilts, admiring the tears cascading down your warm cheeks over his thumbs. Trickling way past his wrist watch, following a path of veins along his forearm. The idea of your pain against his strength doing more to excite him than he can stand much longer.
“If we had met under different circumstances. If my father hadn’t groveled like some pathetic loser to Haechan’s dad to save us. To continue developing my education in this overpriced prissy shithole..”
The corner of Jeno’s lip tweaks, it’s as much of a smile as he’s ever shown you up until now. Leaning in closer to lick the stream of tears landing at the crevice of your nose. He stays near, whispering just by your eye. “We could have met in a different way, community college or some bullshit. We could have had a chance at normalcy.”
He stands up right, kissing his teeth. Shoving the pads of his fingers deeper into your cheeks until the fat dips beneath. “But you had to like Haechan. That pretentious upper class rich asshole who’s never had to fend for shit his entire life. He’ll never understand where you come from.”
Jeno licks his lips, salivating the more you cough and cry. Brain throbbing from the collapsed image before him, in his hands. A broken pathetic thing to rebuild how he wants, make perfect. “I understand. I see you for what you really are. We’re the same really, you and I.”
“I’m nothing like you!” You squeak, gripping onto the teddy bear's neck for a confidence boost. “You’re awful! You’re the most horrendous person I’ve ever met.”
“I’m trash.” Jeno states proudly. Licking the back of his hand clean of your spilled tears. “Just like you. I knew after watching you for only a few days.”
Reminding yourself that Jeno doesn’t deserve anything from you, you push past him headed for the door. Pulled by your waist to lay against his chest. “Where do you think you’re going teddy? We’re not done here. We’re just getting acquainted.”
“Let me go!” Dropping the stuffed bear, you fight against his thick forearms squeezing around you. Kicking back at Jeno’s legs.
“Fine!” Jeno really let’s you go, squatting down to pull your hair before you can crawl away. Erupting a string of cursed screams, he pulls you too roughly. Finding a few strands of hair between his fingers later.
“You’re a smart girl when it comes to those stupid books teddy,” he says, positioning you on your knees. Something he’s become familiar with. “But you’re so fucking stupid when it comes to literally everything else, huh?”
He has the nerve to laugh, pushing your loose sweater off. Tsking and mumbling about how it’s a shame you cover yourself up so much. “I could tell though.”
Tweaking your chest, Jeno rips your top away, seams bursting from his brutal hands. Pressing a kiss on your sternum, he blinks up, observing the droplets hanging from the tip of your nose. “So pretty when you cry like that. That’s how I make you cry teddy.”
Jeno moves the teddy bear beneath your lower half. Thighs spread over its face. The same plush you’ve cuddled and held for nights, pretending Haechan could like you. That you could be the one wearing matching clothing with him..
Seeming pleased with your position, Jeno rips your underwear to the side. Grabbing one of your shoulders, his other hand trails up past your breast. Nose meeting yours with a soft kiss to your upper lip.
“Bet you wish your real teddy bear would come save you now.” Jeno laughs in your face. Taking a hold of your neck, he pushes until your cunt presses down on the plushies face. Whimpering filled with embarrassment.
Jeno wishing he only had a camera set-up to remind you of what a dumb whore you are with photos plastered all over the inside of your locker. Dropping one on the floor in class just to make you squirm. Next time, he’d have to remember.
“Do you know how stupid you look right now teddy?” Jeno gathers a chunk of your hair mercilessly. Yanked back to the point of miserable strain in your neck. Cock throbbing hard enjoying the shame taking over your soft face. “Come here.”
A sick satisfaction fills his chest, obliging you to sit on one of his thighs. Jeno relaxes into the old teachers chair, cupping one side of your hips. “Move.”
Biting down on his lip, Jeno’s other hand presses on your stomach. Shifting you to move up and down his thigh enough for your clit to rub roughly against his slacks. Flexing muscles against your inner thighs on purpose to get you more frustrated.
“Fucking your toy wasn’t enough?” He says meanly, wrapping an arm around your waist until you’re flush to his chest. “Such a dumb stupid little moronic slut.”
His free hand reaches up, prodding three fingers inside your mouth. Shoved deep enough to gag around. He starts thrusting them in and out quickly. Pushing back far enough to make you choke and cough. Gurgling up wads of drool that spill out gathering around his wrist.
“Tell me, tell me what a dumb slut you are.” Jeno bounces beneath you. Knee jerking between your legs in a harsh manner until you’re riding his thigh. Eyes rolled up moaning around the fingers clogging your mouth.
“I-I’m du-uhm” he knows you can’t properly speak. Gagging and lurching until the top of his button down shirts drenched in saliva.
“Look at this fucking mess you made, stupid and filthy.” Jeno rips free from your mouth, smacking wetly on your cheek until you glance between your bodies. His chest rising and falling faster with each bated breath.
“Clean. It. Up.” Controlling you by your hair again, he pushes your face into his chest. Hard enough to make you gasp for air. Thigh roughly stimulating your clit with no loss of speed. He reaches down, landing hard whip-like smacks on your ass. Rolling your face against the sloppy mess of drool. “Have to do everything for you.”
Standing up suddenly, Jeno pushes you too hard, crashing down on your knees, painful enough to sting. He peers down at you, slowly unbuttoning his top.
“Look at that.” Nodding to a near invisible sheen at the top of his abs, his tongue clicks. “Lick it off.”
Lick it off, just how you licked his shoe. Inching your tongue past every dip and muscle on his stomach just to get to the spot he’s complained about. That’s what Jeno meant, he meant to clean him. Clean him, make him less of a piece of shit.
“Exactly, maybe you aren’t just book smart.” He sighs pleased. Hard cock digging against your chin while you take extra time to dip in and out of his bellybutton. Lost in the thought of how smooth his skin feels under your tongue. A vivid image of Jeno standing under hot water, lathered up in soap, removing every trace of body hair that would hide any of his perfect figure.
Jeno could get off on this alone. The random sucks you give to each carved muscle. Twitching under your mouth’s working movements. But that would do nothing to calm his thoughts of painting your face with lines of cum. Jerking off on your eyes just to watch you suffer and cry about how you can’t see. Having to beg him to help you clean it off.
Undoing his pants, he considers it. Pushing them down past his narrow hips enough to let his balls breathe. He strokes lazily over himself, the tips of his fingers barely touching. Terrified large eyes stare up, the visual of his cock taking over most of your face from this angle dizzying enough to make him eyes roll.
“Jeno, please..I can’t. You’re too big..” a soft broken beg trails up to his ears. Cock twitching at the misery filling your vocals.
“Kiss it, at the tip.” He says huskily. Jerking the fat length before you. Slit glowing with stringy precum, dangling loose. “Taste it. I’m not asking.”
He moves forward, not giving you much of a choice. The wet tip smearing on your pursed lips. Leaving behind a gloss coat. “Smell it, get in there teddy. That pathetic dumb mouth talks back a lot, I know you can do better.”
Another push has your lips wrapped snugly around the fat tip of Jeno’s cock. Dramatically crying now, throat and body already drained of energy. Precum drips fiercely out of his slit, dampening the center of your tongue with a bitter tangy taste.
Coughing around Jeno’s length finally breaching way half inside. He grunts irritated, pulling your hair harder until you let out a fresh batch of tears.
“God you suck at sucking cock.” His eyes roll, this time in frustration. Bending at his knees to move you onto the desk. Jeno strikes your ass three times for good measure. Claiming disobedience, but that you’re a fast learner. You’ll learn how to properly take dick under his teaching soon enough.
He licks your face clean of tears, shushing you, gently pressed to your lips. “You want a real reason to cry? I’ll give you one.”
Jeno’s got you on your back in seconds. Manhandling you around this classroom with strength you’d only experienced in short moments before. Tossed and turned any direction he wanted.
“I knew my teddy would have the prettiest pussy.” He smiles sharply. Pupils large and black, endorphins too high from the incessant pounding need to cum. Gripping himself around the base of his length to slap down on your slit. Folds gushing with wetness clapping around the heavy meat landing against you.
“Jeno, please..” you whine, eyes shut tight at the roll your hips give.
“So wet for me. What the fuck are you begging for? Too dumb to even understand how bad you wanna get fucked huh?” Lining up to your pulsating hole, he starts to push in. Relishing in the sounds of anguish pouring out of your lips. Neck going loose, soaking up every torn whimper your throat presents him.
“Good thing Haechan never got to fuck you.” Jeno smirks, struck by your mound lifting the further he pushes inside. “Would have fallen in love with you like the weak little bitch he is.”
Jeno’s bigger than the two guys you’ve hooked up with back home. Twice as thick and long. Broad figure hovering above you shadowing darkness around you. He’s monstrous, physically stretching your walls to fit the entirety of his length.
“My pretty teddy, with the tiniest pussy to ruin.” He keeps mumbling. Falling into his own daze of satisfaction. Cursing and chewing on his upper lip. He smacks your thigh, pushing the rest of his length in. Arching up under him with a pained cry, he’s so deep, too deep.
“Tell me you love it,” he reaches up, scooping your face to make you watch him. “Cry and shout, but look at how your pussy wants me. Gripping around me begging for my cum.”
“T-too big. Big, b-big.” You can’t rip away your gaze from where he collides with your core. Glistening cock plunging in and out, in and out. More coated in your arousal with each drawback. Impulsively squeezing every time Jeno fills you up again.
“Fuck, you’re too good for me aren’t you teddy? Pussy sucking on my cock better than that mouth can.” Jeno’s motions speed up. Trapping you in a folded position, legs pushed up onto his shoulders. He draws your ass half off the desk, ramming against your bottom hard enough for the old furniture to shake and creak underneath you. “Bet that pussy never gets used huh? I’ll change that, fuck you everyday until all your hole knows it how to take my cock.”
Jeno’s stamina only accelerates the more you cry. Groaning and rolling his eyes blissfully. Tongue laving the stream of tears dripping down past your chin. “Keep crying like that for me, say my name.”
Dropping one of your legs, he grabs onto your jaw, shaking your face side to side. Commanding you say his name again with a growl.
“Jeno!” You have to shout, fingers bury under your tongue. Tugging down until pools of saliva combine with the puddle of tears around you. Jeno motivated by your dirty appearance to fuck harder and faster. Aiming his next thrust with precision. Hitting the bundles of nerves that race down to your toes. Biting down on his fingers lodged halfway in your mouth to control the painful cries that sound.
“My dumb stupid teddy, cumming around my cock again.” Jeno shows no pity, fuckng with extra urgency past your convulsing heat. Sweat shoots off his face at the rapid succession of thrusts. Neck arched back revealing the expanse of his broad drenched chest. Traces of spit left behind on the chiseled lines etching definition on his stomach. Waist dipping with each pound of his pelvis down. Sharp enough to bruise and ache the backs of your thighs for days to come.
“Love how your pussy swallows me up.” Scrunching his brows together, Jeno looks down. Admiring how fast he glides in and out, coated in your release. “Need to cum.”
“No! no! Not inside!” Squirming away is useless with Jeno’s hands splayed around your waist. Delivering three more pointed thrusts, he groans falling down. Forehead rolling back and forth on your chest releasing raspy guttural cries. Steamy warmth fills you up, losing no rhythm, he keeps thrusting. Obscene sounds of wetness squish between your lower halves. Driving his hips forward until the last spurt of cum spills out.
“Out! Pull out!” You whimper, throat scratched up from too many cries and screams.
Jeno props himself up, masking your pleading with a noisy grunt. Circling his hips painfully against yours. He comes down to a slow grind, gripping one of your wrists, pressing your hand down on the skin bulging out above your navel.
“I’ll protect you. Never let that fucker Haechan near you again.” Jeno sounds crazed. Pressing the tips of your fingers against your abdomen’s skin covering the tip of his length. “Now you’ll be my teddy bear.”
——————————————————-
Jeno’s instructions are clear and concise. Be ready by 7am, wait for him at the corner bus stop, and don’t talk.
“I can’t stand chatter this early in the morning.” He drones on the way to school. “That’s why I like you, you’re quiet.”
You shouldn’t feel flattered, blaming the nervous stir passing through your stomach on skipping breakfast. If Jeno hadn’t petrified you into silence you’d let him know the truth- you’re only quiet because you’ve never wanted to talk to him. Why would you after his unrelenting harassment?
“Did you write down your schedule for me like I asked?” Jeno pulls into a parking spot, palm held open expectantly.
Of course you did, because you’d do anything Jeno asks of you now. His intentions are straight to the point, whether you want it or not he’d be around. Lurking in the shadows, peering over your shoulder. Observing you even at a distance, studying your every move.
“Good, let’s go to the main office. I’ll put in the transfer requests to match your schedule.” Jeno’s eyes are hidden behind black tinted frames. Fierce eyebrows bouncing above them in a snarky manner.
He doesn’t bother to grab the door for you, shoving his book bag at your chest. “See, once I’ve switched to all of your classes, we’ll be together all day.”
Jeno’s walking with his head held high. Smacking his lips as he goes on, keys twirling around a pointer finger. “You will finish all of my assignments. We’ll work together for every project.” Stopping abruptly, he forces a heaved breath from your chest with his forearm smacking against your ribs.
“Of course, you will sit next to me at all times. I expect my grades to be that of a student riding on a scholarship. Nothing but perfect scores.”
Jeno seems pleased by the silence he receives, pinching your chin between his thumb and index finger. “I told you, you’re perfect for me. We were made for each other.”
“Hey guys!” Haechan’s jogging down the hall toward the two of you. Waving and smiling, momentarily confused as he nears noticing Jeno touching you in such an unusual way. A soft growl passes through his throat, snapping away from facing you to hide your body as much as he can behind himself.
“Haechan.” Jeno stiffens up, taking a stance with hands on his hips to pump his chest out. Jaw locked tight, stretching his neck high to glare down at the other standing only a couple of inches shorter.
“Heyyy man?” Haechan hesitates, eyes crossing in confusion. Bouncing up on his toes to catch a glimpse of you behind Jeno. “What’s going on? Is everything—“
“It’s time for you to go to class.” Jeno clasp one of Haechan’s shoulders in a ruthless grip. Enough for a pained squeak to embarrassingly escape him.
“Dude, what the fuck?“ Haechan grunts attempting to shake off his ‘friend’ “What the fuck is your problem man.”
“You.” Jeno smirks, pushing Haechan further back. “You are my problem. A problem I’m tired of dealing with.”
“Jeno, what the fuck?!” Haechan sounds pissed off. Confusion evades him as fighting instinct sets in. Resisting to push back when he spots you peeking over Jeno’s shoulder. “Are you okay?!”
“DON’T talk to her.” Jeno spits, roughly shoving Haechan’s other shoulder until he trips back stumbling over his feet. “In fact, you will never speak to her again.”
“Man, I don’t know what the fuck you’re on.” Haechan grits, spine ramrod straight, resisting Jeno’s intimidation. “Stop telling me what to do.”
“I’m not telling you. I’m warning you.” Jeno swipes open his phone, tapping a few times before showing Haechan a display of photos. “Actually, I’m threatening you.”
Haechan’s lips part, taking in a deep breath, letting out a tired sigh. “What do you plan to do with those?”
“I could go to the principal? Local newspaper? Straight to daddy? Inform him of what a loser his son is?” Jeno smirks, proudly opening up incriminating photos of Haechan partaking in illegal drug use. “I can just see it now- millionaires chaebol son! Addicted to snorting away his father’s money!”
“Why are you doing this to me?” Haechan’s distress reminds you of your own. Who knows when Jeno’s plans had begun..
“I told you.” Stepping to stand by your side, Jeno’s arm drapes around your shoulders. “Don’t speak to her again, don’t even look at her. I have more than enough to ensure dear daddy cuts you off for good. See how much everyone loves you when you’re nothing but a slum like me.”
Haechan prepares to protest, lifting his hand to motion for Jeno to stop. Shot down and smacked away instantly.
“Come on, we’re gonna be late to class.” With lips pressed to your forehead, Jeno drags you away. Leaving his former friend gaping like a fish out of water.
It feels like a melancholy scene out of a movie. Haechan grows smaller and smaller the further Jeno moves the two of you along. Much like the day he moved away, forgetting of your existence.
“Don’t ever think about him again.” Jeno mutters. Sitting your lifeless body down, he presses a kiss to your cheek. “He’ll forget about you, just like he did so easily before. You never meant anything to him.”
You never meant anything to him, but you mean something to Jeno..
At least that’s what he tells you. His actions speak otherwise, hauling you to sit by his side in your next class. Mentioning on his way in to the TA curiously eyeing him that he’d be joining soon and would love to become familiar.
“See,” Jeno bites his bottom lip to contain a prideful smile. Tickling the stray hairs by your ear, he pushes them back freeing your cheek up to speak against. “We don’t need all these fake assholes.”
Leading you toward the back, Jeno grabs the chair's leg you’ve sat on. A loud shrill screeching across the floor, knocking your knee into his. “You will sit next to me like this from now on.”
Noticing a few lingering eyes and hushed whispers directed your way, he presses closer to you. Nose nestled in your hair transfixed by the remaining scent of your shampoo. Glaring toward your peers snooping eyes and whispering lips.
“Now they all know.” Leaning back enough to cup your face, the pad of Jeno’s thumb brushes beneath your eye. Warmth fills the black pools roaming over your broken features. Admiring the hard work he’s put in, picking at a block of frozen ice everyday until it cracks. “You belong to me. You’re my teddy bear.”
Next—> Our Sick Story, Thus Far
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emilyssky · 1 year
Text
Chapter 2: Slow Motion
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PAIRING: Lee Know! X fem!reader
GENRE(S): college au, smut, angst
WARNINGS: Mentions of violence and abuse, depression, self harm, eating disorders etc.. mentions of blood, swearing, smoking, smut [ dirty talk, oral; giving and receiving, chocking, spanking, praising, degradation, pet names, sometimes Minho is a dick :)
SUMMARY: "Do you remember what you told me the first time we met?"  
"What?"
"You said; Always leave people a little better than you found them" he looked at the floor with a small smile for a few seconds and then his eyes found mine. "You really annoyed me when we first met. I envied your optimism and excitement for life. But each time I saw you, I felt a certain thrill. You made me angry, you made me laugh., you made me feel everything. Something about you made me feel a little more alive each time. I know I fucked up and I know I'm an asshole but I'm also brutally in love with you."    
[The GIF is not mine ]
The urge to just ball my eyes out right this second is stronger than my desire to live, honestly. I stare at my laptop screen, at my essay which is a total of 2 words. My name. It's an essay that counts for 30% of my final grade and it's due in 9 days. Last night, I was chilling in my bed, scrolling through Pinterest when a reminder that I had set to remind me that the due date is in 10 days went off. Today I woke up at 7 a.m to begin the essay. It's now 11:17 and all I've written is my name. I rest my head on the back of the couch, closing my eyes, trying not to panic but the sudden banging on the door only makes my nerves worst. The banging continues and I know for a fact who's behind the door.
"For fuck's sake, I'm coming!" I yell over the noise.
I open the door only to come face to face with Chan's smirk. He has both of his hands resting on each side of the door, looking down at me. His position makes him look a little taller than he is.
"Hi." He says, wiggling his brows. I know that face.
"Whatever it is, the answer is no." I sigh, looking at him with a straight face.
He groans and pushes me aside. "I haven't said anything yet, stop being so negative."  He pops down on the couch. I close the door and walk towards the fridge.
"I don't have to hear it, I know you." I grab a bottle of strawberry milk from his stash that he keeps in my fridge. "And I know that whatever you want to do, I don't want to be involved" I sit down beside him, giving him the bottle.
He takes 3 giant sips before speaking. " At least hear me out first."
I turn to face him, placing my elbow on the back of the couch. "Fine, speak."
A huge smile spreads on his face as he copies my position.  "So" He clears his throat. "We are throwing a party this weekend-"
"Absolutely no" I face forward and reach for my laptop but he grabs my elbow to pull me back.
"You didn't even let me finish"
"You don't have to" I pull my hand out of his grip. "I have a really important essay that I have to submit in 9 days. I don't have time for parties."
He runs his hand through his hair and I notice some new rings on his fingers. I grab his hand, bringing it closer to my face.
"Did you get new rings?" I cut him off just when he was about to speak, trying to change the conversation. He rolls his eyes.
"Don't change the subject y/n" He pulls his hand away after letting me take a look at them for a few seconds "You haven't been to a party since my birthday. Come on, have some fun"
"I've been really busy" I stare at the wall in front of me. "With college and stuff."
"Bullshit" He crosses his hands. "All you do is stay in your room, rewatch stupid tv shows, and read fanfics."
"Hey, don't call 'The vampire Diaries' stupid" I point my finger at him.
He grabs it and lowers it from his face. "You're coming. Your depressive episode must come to an end and as your best friend it's my duty to make it happen."
I bring my knees to my chest. "I'm not depressed, I just-"
"Y/n" He places his hand on the back of my head, playing with my hair. "I know you and I can tell when things are not okay. You don't go out anymore, you're skipping classes, you're always in your room and you don't hang out or talk to any of us anymore." He shakes his head "You don't talk to me anymore." He stares at me with a sad look on his face.
My heart hurts at the sight. I don't want him to think that he's doing anything wrong when it's completely my fault. It's been a couple of months that I've been feeling like that. I don't find anything that exciting anymore. I don't enjoy parties like I used to. I can't focus on college or even study. I just feel heavy and tired of everything.
"Please talk to me." He stops playing with my hair and grabs the back of my neck to turn my head towards him. "You know I'm here for you and if something is wrong I want to know"
"I know Channie, but I don't really wanna talk about it you know?" I offer him a smile. The best one I can manage and he drops his hand in defeat.
"At least come to the party with me." He says with pleading eyes. "One night. Forget everything for one night and just have fun."
I haven't been to a party in ages but I'm not really feeling it. I wish I did cause I really miss everyone. Honestly, it seems exhausting to me right now but the puppy eyes Chan is giving me and the way his bottom lip is poking out make me soft inside.
"Ugh, fine I'll come." I groan. His smile takes over half of his face and I can't help but smile at the sight.
"It's going to be a good one, I promise " He stands and drowns the rest of his drink. "It's a great chance to meet some of my friends from the studio."
Chan is a music major and since he's a senior he's spending most of his time in the studio working on his music. He's graduating in a few months and he's pretty set on working in the music industry. He met a couple of guys last year and bonded with them a lot over their mutual love for music. Now they're something like a group and spend hours in the studio, creating songs and sending their work to record labels, hoping to get signed. He's been going on and on about them and how I would really like them.
"Mmm, I would like to stick to the familiar friend group, thank you very much"
He rolls his eyes "Shut up, don't be a bitch, and wear something nice." He grabs his jacket and walks towards the door. "No hoodies or baggy jeans." He turns around again and points his finger at me. "I want the slutty version of you back, I'll pick you up tomorrow at 10."
.
.
.
.
For the past few weeks, I've been in nothing but sweats and hoodies, occasionally I would maybe wear a pair of jeans. So my reflection in the mirror is a strange sight. I haven't eaten anything since yesterday noon and I've been really careful with my diet the past week but still, my body never changes in my eyes. I stare at myself and move around a bit, trying to feel even a tiny bit of confidence in my outfit but the black dress is still too tight for my liking. I shake my head and sit on my bed to put my heels on. They're not too high, just enough to give me just a little boost. As I'm running around the room trying to gather all the things I need to put in my bag I hear the familiar, loud banging on the door. I quickly throw everything in and make my way towards the living room. I open the door before he has a chance to bang his fist a second time and his eyes immediately widen, scanning me from head to toe.
"Holy fuck y/n," He moves around me to see the full outfit. "You look hot. I had honestly forgotten what your legs look like. Thanks for reminding me." He lifts a brow at me.
I roll my eyes, laughing "Stop it, we're late, let's go" I grab my jacket and push him out the door.
The drive to the frat house was short as usual. It's only about 10 minutes from mine and Emma's apartment but since it's freezing outside and I'm wearing heels I told Chan to come pick me up and he was happy to do so. Going on late-night car rides is one of our favorite things to do together and something we haven't done in a while. The frat house is as crowded as ever but I didn't expect anything less. I shiver as we walk towards the entrance, mentally cursing myself for not wearing thicker tights under my dress. Chan takes my hand in his as we walk inside the house. He pushes through the crowd, leading me to the kitchen. The kitchen of the frat house is pretty large and not as crowded so it's easy to spot Hyunjin's long, blonde hair. He's making out with Jisoo who seats on top of the counter. It's a sight everyone has gotten used to since they started hooking up almost a year ago, yet I don't think the have made it official yet. Still, everybody knows that they're together.
"Get a room" Chan yells. He lets go of my hand and walks over to Felix to make himself a drink. I laugh at how they don't even acknowledge him and continue to heavily make out. I make my way towards Felix and wrap my hand around his neck. I've missed him so much. Hyunjin and Felix are both dance majors, that's how I met them and we started hanging out almost immediately. Due to the classes that we saw each other almost every single day until I started skipping. I also would pass on our afternoon practices, so I think it's been almost 2 weeks since I saw them.
"Hi Felix." I smile at him. He turns his head and his eyes widen a bit before disappearing due to his smile.
"Oh my god y/n. " He pulls me into a hug. "What are you doing here?"
"I wouldn't miss the biggest party of the semester"
"The biggest party will be on New Year's, stupid. Why haven't you answered any of my texts or calls?" He pulls away but keeps me at arm's length by my shoulders.
"She hasn't been answering you either? Thank god, I thought she was mad at me" Hyunjin appears at my side and pulls me into a side hug.
"I've just been crazy busy lately, sorry for disappearing on you guys" I reach for the vodka.
"Let me." Felix stops me and begins to make me a drink. Chan walks back to us with I red cup in his hand.
"The party is crazy." He says and Hyunjin nods smiling.
"Yeah, and we're just getting started" He lifts his cup to us and walks back to the living room.
"Here." Felix presses a red cup into my hand. I bring it to my nose.
"It's vodka redbull."
"Aw, you remember my favorite" I take a sip. I've missed the taste of alcohol.
"Cheers to your comeback" He lifts his own cup. "Bottoms up" . . . . . 3 cups later, I'm in the middle of the living room dancing my ass off. I'm tipsy at this point and the happiest I've been in days. The alcohol, the music, and the sweaty bodies around me are enough for me to forget everything that's been going on in my head. Chan was right, the party is crazy. There are people half naked, dancing on top of tables, couples having sex in all the possible places in the house, and unconscious bodies laying on the floor and couches. I move my hips to the music, completely lost in my own word with Felix dancing in front of me. Suddenly I feel a hand on my lower back and I instantly tense up. I look behind me and I relax as my eyes meet Chan's red eyes. He must have been out smoking, god knows what.
"Come with me. " He grabs my hand and makes his way out of the dancing crowd.
"Why are you dragging me away? I was having fun." I whine as he leads me into another living room area beside the kitchen.
"I told you I want you to meet my friends" He stops in front of the couch where 3 guys are sitting, talking among themselves.
"Guys this is y/n, the friend I was talking about " All 3 of the guys look up at us, pausing their conversation.
"Y/n, this is Jisung, Changbin and Seungmin." Chan points at them in order and then takes a seat on the couch beside Seungmin.
"Hi, nice to meet you guys" I wave awakrdly and move to take a seat on the coffee table in front of them, since the couch is full.
"Chan has been talking about you none stop, so we're glad we finally get to meet you." The guy named Jisung says, smiling. His smile is attractive. Well, he's attractive. His hair is dark brown and a bit on the longer side, coming down to his jawline, he's dressed and a simple black button-up with the top 2 buttons open exposing his quite wide chest.
"Yeah, Chan has been talking about you guys a lot too." I return his smile.
"Are you a music major as well?" Changbin asks.
"Um, no I'm a dance major. "
"That's really cool. How do you know Chan?"
"I met him on my first day of college actually, I was lost and I asked him for help-"
"And the rest is history" Chan finishes my sentence with a chuckle.
"There you guys are." I turn my head to see a guy dressed in all black with a red cup in his hand walking towards us and sitting on the arm of the couch next to Chan. He doesn't even acknowledge me until Chan speaks up.
"Minho, this is y/n " He nods his head in my direction and the guy's eyes turn to me. I instantly freeze, my mind recognizing his face immediately. Bits of memories flash through my eyes, of the night I saw Jackson fucking another girl, the rude stranger on the rooftop, and the terrible hangover I suffered the next day. His eyes also freeze, mouth parting slightly as he scans me up and down before blinking. I couldn't stop thinking about that night for months, replaying our conversation over and over in my head or at least what I remembered, and trying not to forget his face. I was silently searching the campus for him since that night, hoping he was a student here but a guy as gorgeous as he was wouldn't go unnoticed by the girls here. I let my eyes study him a bit more. He looks almost the same as I remember.
"Y/n this is Minho."
So his name is Minho.
It's hard to tell if he fully remembers me or if he even wants to in front of everyone so I choose to play it safe.  "Nice to meet you, Minho" I smile, offering my hand. Instead of taking it like a normal person would he just nods in my direction before taking a sip of his drink. My lips form a tight line, embarrassment swallows me whole when I feel everyone's eyes on me.
"Where were you? " Seungmin clears his throat at the awkward interaction "You've been gone for like half an hour."
"Our boy got laid" Changbin's pushing Seungmin with his shoulder but Minho just rolls his eyes at them.
"I wasn't fucking, I went outside for a smoke and some peace and quiet, this party is fucking crazy." He says expressionlessly.
"Yeah, it's the biggest party yet" I comment, trying to join the conversation, unsuccessfully though cause his head doesn't even turn in my direction, ignoring me once again. Well, his rude attitude definitely has evolved over the past year. Chan notices my bothered expression and jumps into the conversation.
"New Year's somehow going to be even crazier." He says.
"Yeah, but on New Year's we're going clubbing right?" Minho asks
What? There's no way. We spend every New Year's eve together. Me, Chan, Felix, Emma, and Hyunjin.
"It's kinda like a thing, to spend New Year's at the frat. We've been doing it since Chan joined the frat house. But you guys should definitely come." I say.
"Well, plans are changing this year." Minho lifts his brows mockingly, his eyes glaring at me in a challenging way. I don't know how that night almost a year ago I didn't curse him out but then again maybe he wasn't as much of a dick back then as he is now. I bite the inside of my cheek trying to control the annoyance that's building up inside me.
Chan lightly nudges Minho with his elbow. "What?" Minho stares at him blankly.
"Anyway" Chan clears his throat "We'll see". At that, I roll my eyes. Chan's always the person trying to avoid any conflict. I, on the other hand, usually start them cause I'm physically unable to keep my mouth shut.
"Chan told us that you're helping him write most of his lyrics" Jisung changes the topic.
It takes me a second to snap out of my thoughts and turn to Jisung. "Um, yeah I really enjoy writing, it comes quite easily to me, so whenever Chan is writing I love to join."
"She's really good at guitar as well. She's helped me with tons of pieces whenever I was stuck" Chan adds, resting his elbow on his knees.
"You play guitar?" Changbin's eyes widen a bit, and I can feel my cheeks heat up at the sudden attention that Chan put on me. He loves going that, putting me in the spotlight, and pushing himself in the background.
"Well, I knew the basics, but Chan was the one to actually teach me." I give him most of the credit but he just smirks and waves me off with his head.
"So you write and play music? How come you're not a music major?" Seungmin asks.
"It takes a lot more than just playing a few chords on the guitar and writing some lines to major in music Seungmin." Minho says before I have the time to answer, leaning back to look at Seungmin behind Chan's back.
Honestly, if it wasn't for Chan I would have asked him what's his fucking problem right in his face but the last thing I wanna do is create an uncomfortable situation. Chan's friends seems genualy nice and he's been wanting me to meet them for so long. So instead, I poke the inside of my mouth with my tongue and release a loud sigh, not bothering to hide my annoyance.
"I think I'm going to find Jisoo, she was looking for me earlier." I focus my eyes on Minho, who stares back at me as I get up from the table. I break eye contact with him and turn to the rest of the guys. " It was really nice meeting you guys." I offer them a smile before turning around and walking towards the kitchen area, deciding to calm my anger with some alcohol. . . . . . . .
My anger towards Minho and his dick-like behavior has almost disappeared after 5 more shots of tequila. I force myself to ignore the millions of questions that fill my head about him and have fun. It's fine that he doesn't remember me or if he wants to be an ass  I tell myself over and over as I find myself searching the party with my eyes for any sign of him. It turns out the rest of his friends are actually really fun and I've been dancing and drinking with them for the past hour.  Chan introduced his friends to the rest of the group and everyone loved them. At this point, everyone is drunk and dancing like there is no tomorrow. I've been dancing mostly with Jisung and Felix, Hyunjin and Jisoo have excused themselves upstairs, Chan has taken over as the Dj after complaining for almost an hour about the shitty music they've been playing, Changbin is completely wasted and dancing like a maniac making everyone laugh and Emma has been mostly dancing and talking with Seungmin. As I'm dancing between the guys, I noticed Emma and Seungmin leaving the dance floor and sitting on the couch a few feet away and I smile. From the minute Chan introduced them, they've only really talked to each other. Emma is my best friend and roommate and a few months ago she and her boyfriend of 2 years broke up after she caught him cheating. She was completely shattered and hasn't really talked or hooked up with anyone since, she closed herself entirely, so seeing her talking to Seungmin makes me really happy cause as far as I've seen he's a great guy.
"I'm going to get a drink" I yell at the boys over the music at which they nod and I try to push my way out of the dancing crowd. I reach the kitchen, sporting only about 5 or 6 people chatting among themselves, and walk directly towards the drinks. I'm definitely more than tipsy at this point but not completely wasted like most of the people at this party. I grab a cup and begin to pour some vodka when a voice makes me completely freeze in place.
"Y/n?" I slowly turn around and come face to face with the one person that I wish I'd never spoke to again, the guy that I thought I loved, and the guy who broke my heart a year ago like it was nothing. I look up at his face and he smiles a bit. The sight is almost painful.
"What are you doing here Jackson?" I say, trying to keep my voice as steady as I can.
He stares at me for a bit before running a hand throw his hair, smiling at the floor. "I heard that it was going to be one of the biggest parties and you know me" He grabs the cup from my hand and drowns the vodka I poured earlier. "I'm a sucker for a great party"
I narrow my eyes at him. "Yes. Sadly, I know you." I'm surprised at how he and his friends managed to sneak in here without Chan, Felix or Hyunjin seeing them but then again there are close to 100 people here.
"Come on, don't be like that Y/n" He shakes his head and looks behind him, at the rest of his friends that are chatting with some girls by the kitchen entrance, probably making sure that none can hear us. "You know I tried talking to you but you pushed me away every single time." He takes a step closer to me and I instinctively take one backward, hitting the counter.
"We don't have anything to talk about, you are a manipulative piece of shit. I opened up to you and you played me like a fool. Everything was a fucking lie, all of our talks and moments, everything was fake." I try not to raise my voice but I can feel my emotions getting the best of me as my eyes begin to water. Ever since we broke up, almost a year ago, I haven't talked to him at all. I occasionally saw him around campus or at parties but only from afar. With Chan, Hyunjin, or Felix beside me, he never had the chance to come and talk to me.  All of the words that I never got to say and all of the things I realized while being away from him are now spilling out of me.
He wets his lips and places his hands on the counter trapping me. My heart races almost instantly at his movements but I try to keep my face straight. "You know, that I wasn't faking shit y/n, I just made a mistake, I should have told you, I know but I'm trying to change. I wanted to apologize about what happened but-"
"Don't you even dare" I hold my hand up between us. "Don't even dare apologize about what happened. The way you were treating me is unforgivable," I say slowly and then push lightly at his chest forcing him to take a step back. It's funny that he thinks that the reason of our break up was the pathetic lies and the fact that I was simply a bet for him, when in reality that was the cherry on the cake. "Now please, get the fuck away from me. I can't even stand to be near you." I try to walk past him but he grabs my wrist and pushes me back to the counter.
"You never let me fucking explain." He raises his voice at me and suddenly I'm back in his apartment, pushed against the wall. The familiar feeling of fear spreads down my spine.
I swallow hard. "I don't wanna hear shit Jackson, leave me the fuck alone" I once again try to walk away but he forcefully grabs me by my arm, making me slam into his chest.
"You're not going anywhere until you hear me out" I can now smell the alcohol in his breath and it makes my stomach tighten. Some of our worst fights would happen when he was drunk and would lose complete control over his words and his actions.
"Let go of me." I try to free my hands but he tightens his grip and pushes me back to the counter.
"Y/n, please listen to me." His words are gentle but his actions are rough and painful causing me to wince.
"Jackson, you're hurting me, let go." Tears threaten to spill from my eyes as panic slowly takes over me.
"She said 'let go'." A voice drawled and my head snaps to the right, only to see Minho entering the kitchen.
"Who the fuck are you?" Jackson relaxes his grip slightly, focusing his eyes on him. Minho's eyes went from my trapped hands to my eyes to Jackson.
"Let her go." His face is relaxed but the tightness in his jaw is visible.
"Is he your boyfriend or some shit?" Jackson releases my hands and takes a step back looking between me and Minho annoyed.
"That's none of your business." I say harshly, feeling a bit more safe knowing that we're not completely alone. He takes an angry step towards me again but before he can make another move, Minho steps in front of me and pushes him backwards. My hand shoots up to my mouth in shock.
Jackson stumbles back a few steps. "Did you just push me?" Jackson's friends make their way beside him after hearing him raise his voice. "I'm trying to fucking talk to her, what's you're problem?" He tries to grab Minho but Mark, one of his best friends, holds him back. I take a step to the right, using Minho as a shield, my hand grabbing his shirt instinctively out of fear. The action causes him to look back at me. His eyebrows draw together and I can see his jaw tighten even more.
"I'm pretty sure that she made it rather clear that she doesn't wanna talk to you," Minho says in a deep voice, turning to face Jackson again. "You should just leave." He grabs my hand "And don't come near her again." He walks past them, dragging my still shocked body behind him, and out of the kitchen.
He continues to walk through the crowd and up the stairs. I begin to feel a little dizzy, my mind blurry at this point. Suddenly the music is too loud, the people are too many and my memories with Jackson are too intense in my mind. I don't even look at Minho as he leads me inside the last room of the hallway. As soon as we enter he drops my hand and walks towards the window. I look around the room, quickly recognizing that it's Felix's. My body instantly relaxes at the familiarity of the room and I sit on the bed. My ears are ringing painfully loud, my heart is pounding and as much as I'm trying to control my breathing it comes out loud, sharp, and quicker than normal, catching Minho's attention. His head snaps in my direction.
"Are you okay?" He walks towards me, his eyes searching my face. I try to answer him, but the words die down my throat and I grip the bed sheets tighter. Minho drops to his knees in front of me.
"Y/n, what's wrong?" He tries to keep his voice steady but his eyes are looking at mine with worry.
"I-I'm...I t-think I'm h-having.." I try to form a sentence but my breathing quickens and panic rushes through my body.
"Hey, hey look at me" Minho places both of his hands on my bare knees, bringing his face closer to mine but my eyes are glued to the ground as I desperately try to calm down. This is not happening.
"Y/n, look at me" His voice is demanding, making me lift my head immediately. His eyes are calm, and his face is relaxed.
"It's going to be fine. Take a deep breath. Focus on my eyes and try to match my breathing." He says slowly, never breaking eye contact. He starts taking deep slow breaths and I try my best to match my breathing to his.
His fingertips make small circles on my thighs. "You're safe, it's going to be alright." My breathing begins to slow and I close my eyes slowly releasing the tight grip I had on Felix's sheets. When I open my eyes, I realize how close Minho is, his eyes are fixated on my face. I hadn't had the chance to notice any of his facial features that well earlier due to the dark lighting of the living room and the distance between us and I don't really recall exactly his face from a year ago. But now that he's a few inches away from me and with the light that's coming through the window and the lamb on Felix's nightstand I can clearly see how beautiful Minho's face is. His hair is a dark shade of brown, falling into his eyes a bit, his eyes are big and almost black but somehow incredibly bright. They hold no emotion in this moment but something about them is warm. My eyes move to his lips, his lips are big as well. They are heart-shaped and full, the kind of lips you would die to kiss. My eyes travel back to his and suddenly a huge wave of embarrassment runs through me. I can't believe I just had a panic attack right in front of him, I can't believe that I saw Jackson and I can't believe how stupid I must look right now. For some reason, Minho isn't really fond of me, and now not only did he see me being embarrassingly weak but I also just shamelessly checked him out. My eyes drop to my hands that are now resting between my legs and then I notice that his hands are still resting on top of my knees. Neither of us says anything for a few minutes but the silence is making me feel even more embarrassed.
"I'm so sorry that you had to see this, I-I don't know what happened. I usually can control my panic attacks well, I honestly don't know what took over me." I find the courage to say, not looking him straight in the eye.
He tilts his head a bit, his eyes never leaving my face. "Do you get panic attacks often?"
His question catches me off guard. "Um, I don't know, I guess. I've been having them since high school, but lately, there've been getting a little worst." I answer honestly. The way he acts and speaks now is completely different than when I met him the first or second time but then again he might pity me right now. I hate it when people pity me. There are a lot of times that Chan looks at me that way and it angers me a lot.
"You don't have to be ashamed. I have a lot of people that deal with panic attacks around me, I'm used to it." He says sounding almost bored like he had this conversation many times before. "Is he your boyfriend?"
"No." I say sharply "We broke up a long time ago."
"Well it looks like you're not over it."
"It's not that, it's just that seeing him again brought back a lot of bad memories" I swallow hard. Minho stares at me, his eyebrows frown suddently, as if a thought crossed his mind and I stare back at him not knowing what to say, We stay like this for a few seconds until suddenly he removes his hands from my knees and quickly places them on the bed trapping me between them. He brings his face closer to mine, our noses almost touching. His movements were so quick and unexpected that I flinched slightly, my hands instinctively coming up. Minho's eyes darken and he drops his head, sighing. I quickly drop my hands to my sides. He removes his hands for the bed and starts walking toward the middle of the room, his hands now resting on his hips and his head still looking down.
"It's him right?" He turns to face me.
"What?" The confusion lasts only second until my blood run cold.
"And it looks like you had to defend yourself way too many times." His tone is a mixture of disgust and disapproval.
My eyes slightly widen. "What are you talking about? You just scared me, why would you do that?" I struggle with my words. I tried really hard to hide what was happening between Jackson and me from everyone and the thought of Minho knowing makes me panic immediately. I remember telling him about it the night we met, thinking I would never see him again, I never expected him to be one of Chan's friends. Realazation slowly starts to hit me, that my secret is no longer safe.
"It looks to me like you were already scared y/n." He stares at me so intensely that I'm forced to look away. I'm embarrassed and annoyed. I knew coming to this party was a wrong idea. I just wanna go home and I definitely don't want to be having this conversation, especially with Minho.
"Look, thanks for helping me with Jackson and with my panic attack, but anything else is not really any of your business. You met me a few hours ago and you just acted like a dick, why do you suddenly care about my personal life?" I get up from the bed, annoyed. Something flashed over his eyes and any emotion and softness that was in them disappeared in a second. He drags his tongue along his bottom teeth and turns to stare through the window. "Just forget everything that happened and please don't say anything to Chan about this" I begin to walk towards the door, just wanting to remove myself from the situation and this party in general.
"Why? Chan doesn't know that his best friend was dating an abusive bastard?" His words make me freeze before my hand reaches the doorknob. My fingers close, turn into fists and I turn around to face Minho's cold gaze.
''It's none of your goddamn business Minho. " I say through my teeth, trying to control my temper. "Just keep your mouth shut"
"Why are you protecting him?" Minho raises his tone for the first time since I met him and takes a step towards me. At this point, I'm boiling mainly cause I feel threatened but also cause he's asking questions that I don't have the answers to.
"I'm not protecting him." I take a step towards him as well.
"You're acting so fucking stupid." He raises his tone a bit more.
"Why the fuck do you care Minho?" We're face to face and I'm angrier than I've been in a long time. I did everything I could to hide this part of my relationship and save me the embarrassment that I would feel if anyone knew. They would all pity me, they would think that I'm weak. I can't even imagine how everyone would look at me if they knew what was going on. It's a secret  I want to keep from everyone and I will not let some noisy, rude guy who doesn't know shit about me change that. Silence had fallen upon the room once again. Eventually, Minho breaks our angry eye contact and sighs.
"You're right. It's none of my business. If you wanna protect that son of a bitch and be that stupid, feel free" And with that he walks past me and out of the room.
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hakkais-hoe · 2 years
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Bon Appétite, Baby~
Ran hanitanix f!reader
Happy birthday to the lovely beanstork!! We all know he’d love some birthday sex after a long day at work so let’s spoil him ;)
Technically for me this is only and hour late I will be taking no criticism 🥲
Age rating: 18+ mdni, Nsfw
Warnings: food play, AFAB R, penetration, creampie, breeding kink, praise, body worship ig , swearing, oral receiving, squirting, fingering, ran being a slight service dom, Ran is 100% a simp. (Light crack at the end ofc or it wouldn’t be one of my fics)
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“Where’s my pretty baby!? Come give me my birthday kisses!” Rans cocky, loud and unusually excited voice reverberates through the apartment, a grin spreads onto your face yet you stay firmly planted on the bed already knowing that if you move an inch one of his presents will be ruined.
“I’m in the bedroom baby~ Come on in I have a present waiting~” A saccharine purr leaves strawberry stained lips, enticing the eager man easily into the barley open door of your shared room. Amethyst eyes of lust and obsession glaze over once they take in the sight before him.
Your scantily clad form lays spread eagle unbound yet unmoving with whipped cream, and assortment of his favourite berry’s and what looks like little cakes sit covering parts of your naked body, heavenly aromas cloud his senses. Hooded lusty eyes stare into your soul as he begins to remove parts of his suit, never once taking his eyes off you in the process.
“Damn baby, you really know how to ruin all the lovely plans I had for the evening dontcha, doll face?” Ran rasps, a hand cascades through once nearly styled hair as he stares at you arm still raised over his head. A heated flush begins to creep up your skin at his piercing gaze, butterfly’s erupting in your belly when he rips his shirt buttons free and pulls his belt off with a flick of the wrist.
“Well I know how much you wanted a cake, my love… now we don’t have to buy one~” You’ve voice is music to his awaiting ears before he’s walking around the bed to stand next to your dessert covered body. A long familiar finger swipes through the whipped cream sitting atop of one of your perked breast, leaving a trail of goose bumps in its wake as he pops it in his mouth with a groan.
“Fuck… Not sure I’ll have chance to savour all your lovely work, doll. Might have to just fuck my pretty girl instead, I’ve been waiting all day for this pussy to milk my cock~” Ran purrs down at you, hands coming to cage you against to bed as his lips finally meet yours in a rough eager searing kiss, one that reminds you just why you love him. Ring covered fingers mould around whipped cream covered tits as he deepens the kiss. When he pulls back you dot get a moment to stare into his beautiful eyes, he’s already moving to the bottom of the bed to climb between already spread thighs. Large hands clamp onto your shins as his places them over broad shoulders, leaving scorching kissed up your legs as his goes. He stops to stare at the whipped cream and strawberries that sit atop of your mound perfectly.
“Ya know darlin, this sweet cunt is my favourite dessert, I’d pick it any day over any cake… fuckkk she’s just begging for my tongue, fuckin dripping all over the bed, baby doll.” Ran groans his head lolling to the side to rest on the knee propped on his shoulder. One hand begins from ghost down the back of your thigh, making its way to your soaked pussy slowly, the ghostlike touch over your most sensitive area leaves in seconds, instead four fingers swipe through the cream and berry’s to spread it down over your scorching heat, a squeak of shock from the cold of the cream slips past your parted lips. Rans mischievous eyes lock with yours as he licks his fingers clean then swipes his tongue over his bottom lip.
“Well bon appetite to me, let’s hope I don’t ruin you for the main course~” Ran coos before his mouth is on you like a man starved, licking and sucking until your a moaning mess. Strong hands grip the meat of your hips as his tongue writes his name over your clit again and again until he can feel a pulse start up, before you can come his tongue plunges into your clenching heat, thrusting and lapping at your overflowing juices as you jolt and jerk against his face, wave after wave of climax that he eagerly drinks loud slurps, squelches, moans and groans fill the room.
Desperate to pull another orgasm from you Rans fingers find your pussys pulsing hole, his middle finger glides easily in, long and thin reaching all the right places, he gives a few pumps while his tongue goes back to sucking your clit better than any vibrator. Another finger is thrust into your already clenching heat before you know it, curling and thrusting at just the right angle, bringing you closer and closer to that second orgasm that he wants. The bulge of his clothed erection rubs against the bed to bring him some form of relief before he can fill your pussy.
“Fuck! … Ran! G-gonna- cu-m!… Please- need- need y-your cock!” You wail grasping and pulling at his hair as your thighs tighten around his head, a light nip of his teeth on your clit have you hurdling over the edge, clear liquid squirting into Rans awaiting mouth where he greedily slurps up all you have to give. Ran grins while you convulse below him already moving so he is caging your whole body in and wiping the rest of your release and the remaining whipped cream off his face. A light peck is placed on your patted lips as he smiled adoringly at you.
“You ready to go again doll? I’m dying to pump that pretty pussy full of my seed~” He hums already working his boxers and slacks down far enough for his impressive length to spring free and slap against his abdomen, your eyes follow its movements and stop to admire the pretty pink tip oozing with pearls of precum.
“Baby? Take a picture it’ll last longer” Ran says with a laugh, his teeth nipping at your neck when he cuts your view off. “I think I will when we’re done~” You purr back, gripping at his biceps as he bites and sucks at your neck and collarbones.
“Come on then big guy, fuck me like your promised~ Paint my insides like a good birthday boy…” Your groan has him leaning back so he can watch as he presses the tip of his flushed dick into your still fluttering pussy, his teeth sink into his lip as he pushes forwards, a filthy groan spills from his lips as his head throws back and his hips snap forward, effectively impaling you on his length, your loud pleasure filled scream pierces the air.
Your moans are like fuel being poured onto this flame of desire, they prove to spur his carnal lust further as he bares down on you, hips snapping at a pace you e only ever seen when he’s hate fucking you into oblivion. The sheer size of his cock has you seeing stars even though he’s just begun, the feeling of his tip furiously pounding into your cervix is enough to have your quickly hurtling towards a third climax, the pitch of your cries and flexing of your walls are tell-tale signs to him of your impending orgasm, his hips pound ruthlessly into your abused cunt as his thumb comes to rub rough tight circles in the nub of your clit, your vision blurs and your chest tightens at the sheer force of the orgasm washing over you, clear liquid once again squirts over Rans abdomen and your stomach in gushes.
“Jesus baby! Look at her fucking go! Yes, yes, yessss good girl~ My good girl, got a few more in ya yeh? Still haven’t pumped this pretty pussy full like I promised.” Ran groans down at you, slowing his pace as he grinds down into your soaked entrance a lazy smile on his face when he sees your fucked out expression grinning up at him, drool and tears streaking your face.
“Very sexy ain’t ya doll~” He hums with a light chuckle, strong arms come to cradle you against him as he slowly pounds down into you, rough, hard, deep thrusts slowly pounding in and out of your sensitive cunt, the squelching and slapping of skin mixed with light paints, moans and groans reverberate off dark walls filling the room with the usual sounds of the two of yous love making.
“Mmm… love you… so much.. Ran love you, happy birthday.” You wine out between harsh snaps of his hips, legs locking firmly around his waist. Panting lips find yours in a haze, a long drawn out passion filled kiss awaits you, the heat of the kiss has Ran groaning into it as his hips once again pick up their pace, going from slow and deep to a ruthless animalistic pounding into your tight sensitive cunt.
“Fuck- fuck pretty- gone pump you so- so fucking full of my seed! Gonna take it like the good girl you are!? Fuck yeh… shit, shit.” Rans groans and your moans fill the room as his hips snap impossibly faster into you.
“Yes, yes, yes yessss! P-please give- give it to me! Need your cum so bad!” Your scream and the tightening of your pussy signalling another climax have Ran tipping straight over the edge.
“Fuck fuck take it! Take it take it take it! Shitttt~” Ran whines as load after load of sticking white cum fills your pussy, painting the walls white just like he said he would. The feeling of Rans seed pumping you full and the twitching of his thick shaft are enough to shove you straight into another earth shattering climax as you cream around his cock once again.
You lay intertwined with one another, basking in the afterglow of the best sex you’ve had in weeks. Pants still fill the air along with the musk of sex and berry’s that are now squashes between perspiration covered sticky bodies.
“Fuck… that was amazing doll… best birthday ever… I love you so much.” Ran mutters, kissing your neck lazily from where he’s laid on top of you.
“You deserved it… this isn’t your only present though…” You pant back stroking his hair lovingly.
“…. Wait… how did you do all this and get rid of all the packaging?” Curious eyes stare up at you.
“Uh…. Let’s talk about that another time…” You grumble avoiding his eyes.
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Taglist: @loonashadow @wakasagurl @coldcoffeeholic @reiners-milkbiddies @honeybachira @soushswag @bontensbabygirl @sunahyejin @haitink
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saturno-sol · 2 years
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cinnamon latte, peppermint cappuccino, warm mocha, strawberry milk, and cold brew :3
Yayyy :3 hi dear
cinnamon latte— would you ever want to dye your hair? if you have before, what color was it and why?
Yes I absolutely wanna dye it again some day! I had it dyed an ombré violet which soon turned maroon on my hair lol but I’m down to dye it purple again :3, maybe do it like my friend and have it on the underside of my hair.
peppermint cappuccino— what’s your favorite genre of movie, tv show, or video game and why?
I love Horror! Horror, esp Cosmic Horror is my absolute favorite. I love exploration in games so a Cosmic Horror Exploration game would be my absolute jam. Something about the mysteriousness and dread of discovering something unknowable is mmmm yes.
warm mocha— would you rather be in a sunny field of flowers and grass, or would you rather be in an ambient cafe with rain outside?
Cafe with rain! Esp if its with a friend or you :3 I love just getting to enjoy the rain with a warm drink and occasionally chatting. Perfect vibes for me.
strawberry milk— what’s your way of showing someone you love them, platonically or romantically?
Gift giving is my biggest one dkdkskd, I love getting people things!!!! If I cant buy it I usually draw dkfksk
I just love giving people I love things that remind me of them and watching their reactions :3
cold brew— what percent is your phone on right now?
Since I barely woke up a bit ago its at 95% lol
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sklq · 6 years
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earlgreydream · 2 years
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Noticing your teddy has a rip and being inconsolable bc it’s the first toy you have an attachment to in your new life and youre afraid Bucky will just toss it in the trash when you show him the rip. But he’s just cooing at you and telling you teddy will be okay. He lets you sit at his feet while he sews him up 🥺. You realize Bucky will do whatever he can to make you happy and you gladly settle in his lap while he bottle feeds you sedatives just to make sure you calm down. (U can totally ignore this if you don’t vibe with it)
literally obsessed with this- i'm going to turn it into a little baby blurb
you're devastated as your fingers trace the little tear in the brown teddy bear in your lap. the seam pulled loose, you had no idea how.
you grip it tightly to your chest, tears streaming down your cheeks and your sniffles echoing off the soft pink walls of your room. you don't want bucky to take it and toss it out, afraid to show him. the bear was the very first thing bucky had given you when you were brought to the cabin. you'd squeezed it when you couldn't sleep at night, and you carried it everywhere around the house, holding it in your lap while you watched shows with daddy.
"babydoll?" bucky goes to investigate the sound of your soft sobs, and his brow furrows when he sees you curled up in the corner, squeezing the bear. it reminds him of how you were before, an anxious and scared little thing, looking at him with frightened eyes.
"what happened, love?" he lowers his voice and kneels down in front of you, his soft silvery-blue eyes searching yours as his hands lift to cup your wet cheeks.
"n-no," you stammer out, turning your face away and hiding it in the bear.
you're rarely ever averse to him touching you now, used to running into his arms when you're upset, and bucky worries that he did something unintentional.
"talk to me, baby. we'll figure it out, i promise. whatever's wrong, daddy's not going to be angry at you."
you sniffle and rub your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater before looking up at him.
"d-don't know what happened. please don't take him away from me," you begged hoarsely, your hands shaking as you show a very worried bucky the loose seam on the back of your bear.
"oh, baby," bucky lifts you into his lap and presses a kiss to your temple.
"I won't take him. I've got some thread in a kit in my office, why don't I fix him for you? how does that sound, angel?" he brushes hair away from your tear-stained cheeks.
"yes, please," you whisper softly, leaning up to shyly peck his lips.
"let's get you relaxed first," he urges softly, giving you some strawberry milk laced with a light dose of sedatives.
he feels you relax into his chest as they quickly take affect, and he gets up to find the sewing kit to fix your bear. you sit between his legs as he works, his complete focus on making you happy again. you're so in love with him as he gently hands the fixed bear back to you, planting a kiss on the crown of your head.
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shemarmooresfedora · 3 years
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Splish Splash
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Summary: A pool day with the team and you and Spencer’s daughter. (Season 1 Cast)
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Content/Warnings: domestic fluff, swearing, mentions of poop and vomit
Word Count: 2.3k
A/N: i included a lot of linked visuals because it helps me visualize better!
Masterlist
“Are you sure we have everything? I don’t want to forget something and have them think we’re bad parents. But they already know and like you so they’ll just think I’m a bad parent,” you nervously rambled.
You had only met Spencer’s team a few times before. He was hand-plucked right out of college by Jason Gideon. Of course, you being 6 months pregnant with his baby, dropped out of college and moved across the country with him.
When you first got pregnant, Spencer always promised he was going to give you and this baby the life you deserved so when his dream job offer came across the table with a hefty salary, Spencer assured you that you could take some time off college if you wanted.
By the time Spencer made it through all the mandated FBI training, he was in the office for one week before you went into labor and he went on paternity leave. You heard the stories about how he went pale and almost fainted in the bullpen when you called him.
Now, a little over a year later, you were pregnant again because who could deny Spencer another baby? He loved Sawyer with his whole heart.
“I’ve got diapers, sunscreen, her favorite toys, multiple changes of clothes, her bottle, and milk,” Spencer listed off the things in the diaper bag as you changed Sawyer.
“Do you like her pool look?” you grinned, “We may have gone on a bit of a shopping spree while you were away on that last case.”
Sawyer was sporting mini pigtails that held the little amount of hair she did have and a strawberry bathing suit with a matching bucket hat.”
“You are just the cutest little thing,” Spencer grabbed her, “I’m going to eat you up like a strawberry,” Spencer blew raspberries on her belly as she happily giggled.
“I got you a suit too,” you threw him a short lavender swimsuit that would barely hit his mid-thighs but that’s what you liked about it.
-
“So glad you guys could make it,” Hotch greeted you at the front door.
“We brought fruit salad,” you held up the giant bowl.
“Oh, thank you,” Hotch took the bowl and guided you both out to the back deck where the rest of the team was already hanging out.
Before you had even put your tote bag down, Spencer was already forcing sunscreen onto you.
“It’s so sticky,” you whined.
“I just did Sawyer and she’s not complaining,” Spencer looked at the giggly little girl in his arms.
“Well, Sawyer is used to her Daddy being all over her all the time,” you giggled.
You slipped the flowy sundress off, revealing your protruding belly bump.
“Oh mama, someone is definitely starting to show,” Penelope hollered from her unicorn floaty in the pool, already tipsy.
“Ugh, don’t remind me,” you groaned, rubbing your stomach, “I feel like a big, sweaty whale.”
Spencer gave you a disapproving glare, “You look gorgeous, love.”
“You have to say that, we’re married,” you replied.
“Well, I’m saying it too. You look gorgeous, Y/N. I love the pregnancy glow,” Elle made her way over to greet you both.
“Thanks, Elle,” you smiled.
“Hey Sawyer! I missed you, babe!” Elle took your daughter from Spencer and kissed her cheek, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in months.”
“I know, it was tough when you guys had all those back-to-back cases,” you answered, “I was considering sending Sawyer on the jet with you guys because she was starting to miss her daddy too much.”
“That’s why she clings to me when I’m here,” Spencer laughed as Sawyer made a grabby motion with her hands, indicating she wanted Spencer to hold her again.
“You want to go in the water, sweetheart?” Spencer asked Sawyer who was staring at the froggy tube in the water.
“That’s Jack’s favorite tube, Sawyer, but I’m sure he’ll share,” Hotch smiled from where he was grilling burgers and hotdogs.
Jack, who was a few months older than Sawyer, was napping in his playpen next to his dad.
“Mind if I sit here?” you pointed to the lounge chair next to Gideon.
“Not at all,” he said, setting down the newspaper he was skimming.
You cautiously lowered yourself into the chair, trying not to lose your balance with your big belly. You and Gideon watched Spencer dip Sawyer’s little toes into the water and then pull her back up as she giggled.
“You know when I first recruited Spencer, I definitely hadn’t been expecting him to already have a family on the way. He got all excited, showing me the picture of you that he kept in his wallet. I almost tried talking him out of the job, saying it’s not for a family man. However, he insisted that he wanted to get rid of as many monsters as he could for his wife and daughter.”
“I can’t say that I like the long hours and time away that comes with his job but I respect it. He’s doing amazing work, you all are,” you replied.
“Thank you, dear,” Gideon smiled softly, “Spencer is very lucky to have found someone so understanding. Your job is pretty tough too, raising kids is no joke.”
“Thank you,” you smiled back, “It’s not easy but it’s so worth it.”
Derek took off his shades, setting them down on a chair before running towards the diving board full speed.
“Cannonball!” he yelled.
His ginormous splash reached all the way over to the shallow section, covering Spencer and Sawyer in her little tube, who promptly started crying.
“Oh no, my poor baby,” Spencer lifted her out of her tube and carried her out to swaddle in a dry towel.
Elle whacked Derek with a pool noodle once he emerged from beneath the water’s surface.
“Hey! What did you do that for?” Derek rubbed his head.
“You made Sawyer cry,” she replied, thwacking him again.
Derek climbed out of the pool on the ladder and made his way over to the two loving parents swarming over their crying child.
“Sorry about that, Sawyer. Guess I underestimated my splash,” Derek apologized to the little child who wouldn’t even be able to understand.
“It’s okay, Derek,” you assured him, “It’s just coming up on her nap time so she’s more prone to cry.”
Spencer caught a whiff of it as soon as he sat down on the lounge chair with you and Sawyer.
He took Sawyer from you and pretended to be speaking as her, making his voice higher-pitched, “Actually, Uncle Derek, if you want to make it up to me, you can change my diaper.”
“Uh uh,” Derek shook his head profusely, “I wrap it before I tap it for a reason, man.”
“I bet you could win a few single moms over if you knew how to change a diaper,” you added.
“Fine,” Derek accepted Sawyer into his arms but held her an arms length away like she was a bomb.
“I’ll teach you,” Spencer slung the diaper bag over his shoulder.
-
About 15 minutes later, Spencer came out with Sawyer on his hip and a traumatized Derek following them.
“What took so long?” you asked curiously.
“Morgan could only use one hand because he insisted on plugging his nose with the other,” Spencer chuckled.
“That shit stank!” Derek argued, “I’ve smelled dead bodies that are better than that.”
“I think your debt has been repaid,” you laughed as Derek sat himself on a tube next to Penelope in the water.
“Thank god,” he sighed, “I’m going to need a hazmat suit if you guys ever need me to babysit.”
“Who said you get to babysit?” Penelope looked up from her romance novel.
“I think Auntie Elle is being overlooked here,” Elle added from where she was sunbathing.
“Sawyer needs some time at Grandpa Gideon’s cabin. I think she will like watching the birds,” Gideon smiled fondly.
“Everyone who wants to watch Sawyer will eventually get to watch her,” you explained, “But I think you will have to pry her out of her Daddy’s hands.”
“How about date nights every Wednesday as long as we aren’t away on a case?” Spencer suggested, “Then someone can take Sawyer for the night.”
“Sounds good to me, love,” you kissed him and took Sawyer from his arms, “I think I’m going to join Sawyer in nap time today. Little one is really not having it today.”
Spencer rubbed your belly, “Is there anything I can do? Do you want something to eat or drink? I think JJ just finished making some potato salad,” he offered.
“I’m sure it’s really good but the thought of that right now is making me extremely nauseous,” you whispered.
Spencer guided you to the hammock in the shade and sat you down with a sleepy Sawyer in your arms.
“Sweet dreams, loves,” he kissed you both on the forehead and once on your belly.
You murmured something along the lines of ‘I love you too’ before drifting off.
Spencer pulled up a chair and just watched you both sleep. It was one of his favorite things to do. The peaceful look on your beautiful face with his adorable child gently cradled in your arms. Spencer’s eyes watched your belly bump rise and fall with each of your even breaths. You were heavenly, an absolute work of art in his mind. No other goddess could ever compare.
After about 40 minutes, Sawyer began to stir but you were still fast asleep. Spencer gently took her from your hold in order to let you continue to rest.
Spencer sat down at the table where the rest of the team was eating, pulling out a bag of your breast milk from his cooler and pouring it into a bottle for Sawyer. He accidentally spilled a little on his finger and instinctively licked it off.
“Alright, ew,” Derek set his fork down on his plate in disgust.
“What?” Spencer asked, “Breast milk is packed full of nutrients. It’s good for you.”
“I’ll taste it,” Elle volunteered.
“I wanna too!” Penelope demanded.
“Nope, I don’t know why I have to clarify this but no one is drinking my wife’s breast milk except me and Sawyer,” Spencer stated.
“Well this is an interesting way to wake up,” you grinned, rubbing your eyes, “Penelope and Elle, I appreciate the eagerness though.”
You sat down in the chair next to Spencer as he fed Sawyer. You nibbled on the fruit salad you brought and took a few sips of water.
“This all looks delicious, Hotch. Thank you. I wish I could eat more but I don’t want to puke in the pool later.”
“No worries. The morning sickness is still bad?” he asked.
“They should have named it ‘morning, afternoon, and night sickness’ because that seems more fitting,” you joked.
Spencer rubbed your belly softly which always seemed to calm your nausea, “She’s so strong. I feel so bad, I wish I could take all the pain away.”
“No, he’s a saint. He stays up with me all night if I can’t sleep even if he has work in the morning,” you told the team.
“That’s the very least I can do,” Spencer said.
“You both are just too cute!” Penelope exclaimed.
Dancing Queen by ABBA came on through the speakers, coincidentally a song you played a lot both times you were pregnant because it made the babies very active.
Spencer danced with Sawyer who could stand with a little assistance so he placed her on his feet and held her hands so he could move her around with him.
Penelope grinded up against Derek perhaps a bit too much for a Sunday afternoon with coworkers and you laughed as Spencer shielded Sawyer’s eyes. Hotch twirled Jack around in circles.
JJ and Elle brought out a chocolate cake for dessert and you passed it up despite how good it looked, knowing you wouldn’t be able to keep it down.
Spencer noticed you kept squeezing his hand tighter than usual.
“Are you okay?” he whispered.
“Yeah, I think the baby is just having a hard time getting comfortable or something…FUCK,” you hissed at the pain.
Everyone stopped their side conversations to look at you.
“Are you okay, Y/N?” JJ asked.
“Yeah sorry, I think I may need to lie down again,” you slowly got up as Spencer grabbed your arm to support you.
You felt a flush of water run down your leg that was way warmer than the pool water.
“Okay then it’s not just in my head. Those really were contractions,” you spoke, “Spencer Reid, this baby is coming out of me.”
This time, you got to see Spencer’s face pale and him go into a state of shock firsthand.
“Spencer,” you whined at the pain again, doubling over.
This seemed to snap him out of the daze he was in.
“Okay, we have the go-bag in the car. It will take us 17 minutes and 23 seconds to get to the hospital including the estimated traffic. I’ll call the obstetrician. Elle and Gideon, it’s your lucky day, you get to babysit. Here’s her diaper bag and a spare key to our house to get her more clothes.”
“What about us?” Derek and Penelope whined.
“You’re both drunk. You can tap in when you’re sober,” Spencer stated, “Okay, let’s go, love. You’re doing so good already. Remember, deep breaths just like the lamaze instructor said.”
“Spencer, tell them I want all the drugs they can give me,” you panted.
“I will,” he nodded, “Anything you need, love. I’ll be right by your side the whole time. Then, after the pain, we’ll get to meet the new baby and you can hold her in your arms forever.”
Spencer continued to make assurances and promises to you as him and Hotch guided you to the car.
“Why don’t we get to help?” Derek and Penelope pouted.
“You can hose her amniotic fluid off of the porch,” Elle replied with a smirk as Gideon rocked Sawyer.
A/N: thank you to @samuel-de-champagne-problems for beta reading!! <3
main taglist (just ask to be added/removed!): @samuel-de-champagne-problems @ssacalumsg0lden @spencerreid9 @averyhotchner @coldlilheart @k-k0129 @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @harrystylesandthegoobs @cmily @jswessie187 @rem-ariiana @hoodpankow @mochionly @spencerreid-187 @babymetaldoll @fics4arainyday @ssavanessa22 @all-tings-diego @idonotexiste @beepbooptoop @tvandfanfic @mggsprettygirl @big-galaxy-chaos @navs-bhat @spencerreidsmommy @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @mggs-sidehoe @rexit-mo @hufflepuffhaze @thisismynerdyself @xoxospencerreid @wifeyprentiss @reidsbookclub @spencersrose @pinkdiamond1016
one-shot only taglist: @strawberryspence @fbivestreid
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todoscript · 3 years
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sweetest delight
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SYNOPSIS: While Shouto’s out hunting down villains on Valentine’s Day, you try your hand at making some sweets to celebrate the occasion, and in doing so, find your efforts rewarded in more ways than one.
pairing: pro hero!todoroki shouto x fem!reader
genre: smut. fluff. pro hero au.
word count: 7.3k+
warnings: 18+. characters are aged up. dominant!shouto. apron kink. praising. oral (both receiving). face-sitting. 69. cum-eating.
author’s note: god, this is long overdue, but i finally got this thing out after all this time. and of course, it ended up getting out of hand again
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“Fuck, fuck, fuck–”
A range of curses spewed from your mouth as the unpleasant smell of your burnt confections permeated the space of your kitchen, threatening to notify the fire alarm overhead of your latest baking mishap. Luckily, you entered the kitchen just in time to dissipate the smoke before it can do so, fanning your towel while navigating to the oven to find your crisp, blackened sweets already ruined inside. The corners of your lips slipped into a scowl at another failed batch of mini chocolate cupcakes at your hand. You slid on a pair of oven mitts to transfer the set off the rack and onto the kitchen counter.
A flicker of optimism in your head presented the thought that they didn’t seem that bad at first glance, going so far as to believe they might’ve tasted relatively fine and that the burnt parts simply added a bitter flavor that would balance the overall sweetness of the decadent chocolate cupcakes. But upon closer inspection, you knew you were lying to yourself.
Flipping the miniature cakes out of the molds, you discovered the sweets were encased in a dreary black outer shell, a sight which made you grimace, wondering how you screwed up so badly to have concocted such a dismal image. You definitely had no right feeding these to Shouto, let alone offer them to him as a Valentine’s Day gift.
As everyone knew, the fourteenth day of February marked Valentine’s Day, the day where couples expressed their love to one another by giving gifts, spending quality time through dates, and displaying many other forms of affection. This year, however, Shouto was called in at his agency to investigate a case of villains whose plan was to wreak havoc on this special occasion.
Now, any person would find it normal to be peeved over these circumstances—having their lover’s free time eaten up by work when they could be celebrating together with a nicely lit dinner or a casual, romantic night at home, and perhaps cap off a wonderful evening with a smooth transition into the bedroom. Much better than spending a day at home alone, pitifully watching couples intertwine their hands together in envy as they walked along the sidewalk beneath your apartment complex, right?
Well, you, on the other hand, were a different case. Rather than sulk around as you waited for Shouto to arrive home later, you decided this would be the perfect chance to whisk up some sweets to surprise him. After all, what’s Valentine’s Day without some chocolate delights on the side, made with vanilla, sugar, cocoa butter, and lots of love and effort. A perfect way to welcome Shouto home from his mission while honoring the festivities, you’d say.
Besides, you understood the situation well enough to recognize that the citizens’ well-being came first before any date of yours. Your boyfriend was a hero, after all, and a Pro at that. It’s not as if you and Shouto hadn’t celebrated Valentine’s Day together before. So long as he came home—intact—prior to the clock ticking to midnight, one day didn’t bother you.
Though… after witnessing the aftermath of several failed attempts at baking thus far, you started to wonder if it would’ve done you better not to get so involved, only to waste resources and pervade your kitchen with an acrid smell.
Still, despite the trials and tribulations, you were determined to come out on top. You tapped your index finger repeatedly against the surface of the marbled counter. “Did I mix up the baking times? Maybe I undermined the portion sizes so the cupcakes started cooking faster?” you speculated out loud, wondering how to troubleshoot the minor errors to come out successful in your next attempt.
After some thought, you decided not to dawdle on your overthinking for too long and shrugged off the idea of redoing another batch of cupcakes. “It’s fine, I’ll just move onto the chocolates then. They’re the star of Valentine’s Day so better to focus on those,” you told yourself. A grin found its way on your face as you rolled the sleeves of your blouse up your forearms. “Alright, let’s get to it then!”
You retrieved a recipe sheet from across the counter, scanning through the contents while overlooking the ingredients lying in front of you. Compared to baking cupcakes, chocolates should be easier to tackle since you weren’t entirely making them from scratch. All you had to do is temper the chocolate melts in a bowl over a heat source, pour them into silicone molds, and refrigerate until hardened and shaped to the perfect, bite-sized delight. Seemed simple enough.
.
.
Okay, maybe it wasn’t quite as simple as you thought.
Or rather, you chose to make the whole process more complicated than it needed to be, not realizing the ambitious turn your take on these chocolates was moving toward until you drove yourself into another mess.
Your first trial of bonbons was sprawled out over parchment paper, waiting for your verdict. Eyes roaming the array of sweets tentatively, you absorbed the mixture of pink and white hues with an unsure look on your face. Somehow during the process, you opted to forgo the customary milk chocolates for white and strawberry, which was the closest you could get to matching Shouto’s signature hair colors.
You’d thought it’d be cute for the treats to have a slight resemblance to him as a simple yet sweet reminder that he was on your mind throughout your progress. But staring down at the final product, you wished you guessed ahead of time that the vision you sparked in your head was not going to be as bright and pretty in comparison to what came out.
You frowned at the batch with narrowed brows before begrudgingly scooping a piece and tossing it into your mouth. The sweetness of the strawberry and white chocolates coexisted together to form a smooth texture that left behind a creamy, floral undertone on your tongue. What was incredibly lacking, however, laid in the looks department. The visuals left… more to be desired, to say the least.
With the idea of wanting to use two different flavors of chocolate, you also played on the notion of incorporating a theme. That theme being half-and-half. And half-and-half being splitting the colors on the chocolates right down the middle.
Though not a complicated plan for an adept baker, it was the exact opposite for a newbie like you who had came up with the idea on the spot. With your chocolates appearing in odd shapes and sizes, not one seemed to resemble another, which was the result of both your lack of patience and miscalculations. You had to allow one of the flavors to harden in the mold before adding the other to not prematurely mix the colors, but judging by the swirls of pink and white surrounding the chocolates, that didn’t seem to go so well. Add on to the fact you had some trouble inverting them out of the silicon molds—the edges of the chocolates ending up smooshed or torn off entirely—and you were left with another failed attempt at a Valentine’s present.
“Guess making sweets isn’t really my thing, huh?” You sighed, body slumping forward against the kitchen counter in defeat. Your eyes wandered from your sad chocolates to the hefty amount of dirty dishes piled in the sink. All this, and you weren’t able to make anything worth giving to Shouto. What exactly were you going to tell him when he came home, bearing witness to this entire mess? No, Shouto was probably under enough stress and fatigue as it was after working all day. Plus, his anticipation for a gift would only be amplified if he saw the number of baking supplies you’ve wasted today. At this point, you had to turn in the towel.
“Oh well… I better clean everything up before Sho comes home and start on din–”
Your words were interrupted by the sharp sound of the front door opening.
“I’m home!” an all too familiar voice announced, one that you were more than aware belonged to a particular fire and ice hero.
Surprised, you glanced over at the clock to check the time, which read a bold 6:00 PM—sooner than you expected your boyfriend to arrive home from his duties that day. So soon, in fact, that you weren’t able to even begin erasing any of the evidence littered around the kitchen.
“Y/n?” you heard him call. Freezing in place, you picked up Shouto breathing in a quick whiff. “What’s that smell?” he asked but didn’t wait for a response, traveling through the enormous apartment to find that answer for himself. Hearing his feet shuffling across the hardwood floor, you moved quickly.
“The kitchen smells sweet but also... bitter.”
Sweet and bitter..? you repeated but soon realized what he meant—those damn burnt chocolate cupcakes you left out. While in your rush with making the chocolates, you had forgotten to dispose of them beforehand. Though the bitter smell was not as prominent as when the cupcakes first came out of the oven, it still didn’t evade Shouto’s keen senses.
After shoving the burnt mini cupcakes in a trash bin, you scrambled to the entrance to the kitchen, thankfully cutting Shouto’s path off just in time as you met him there. “Oh hey, Sho, why didn't expect you to come home so early!” you greeted, a cheerful lilt in your tone as you leaned an arm on the side of the doorway, hoping to come off ordinarily chill to avoid any questioning looks. It seemed you achieved that much at least by how Shouto smiled warmly at your appearance.
“You should’ve shot me a quick text or something.”
“Sorry, we managed to track down the group of villains right away and finished the mission smoothly without any casualties,” he explained. “I guess I was in such a hurry to come home and celebrate Valentine’s Day with you that I must’ve forgotten.” The soft look on Shouto’s handsome features had you in a daze for a second; you nearly missed him descending his head to your level so his lips could find yours. Eventually, you broke from your stupor and swiftly turned your head so he planted a peck on your cheek instead.
You were never one to purposely avoid a kiss on the lips like that from him—far from it actually—but you didn’t want him to find any residual sweetness on your lips from the confections you taste-tested that day and have him bring up if you made anything for him. One thing you surely couldn’t avoid, however, was his puzzled face at your uncharacteristic actions. Still, Shouto wasn’t one to overthink the details. Instead, he decided to look at the bigger picture, such as the dirty yet cute, pink and brown frilly apron tied around your body.
“Your apron’s a mess,” he chuckled lightly. The comment caught you off-guard, eyes slowly traveling down to the flour and chocolate stains on your Valentine’s-themed apron. “Have you been cooking?” he asked. You fumbled with your answer.
“O-Oh yeah..! In fact, I’m… still cooking, actually!” you quickly added, making up for your lack of words. “C’mon, it’s probably been a long day for you. You should go freshen up in the shower while I get everything done and cleaned!” You tried shoo-ing Shouto from the kitchen’s vicinity, but he didn’t budge.
“I can help out if you like. I wouldn’t want you to fix everything up by yourself, especially since we’re supposed to spend the rest of Valentine’s Day together,” he said, and as much as you liked to take him up on his kind and thoughtful offer, you had to object.
Firmly shaking your head, you continued your attempts at pushing Shouto to retreat to the shower and scrub off the troubles of his day. “No, you’ve probably done enough work today as it is! Just let me handle the rest, ‘kay?” you insisted, straining a smile. However, your hurried shoving felt almost too persistent than what Shouto found normal.
“Well, what are you making then–” As he tilted his head up to sneak a peek, you followed his movements, elevating yourself onto your tiptoes to block his vision in time.
“S-Soba noodles..! Cold! Just how you like them,” you answered after partially interrupting him. Quirking a brow at your fidgety gestures, Shouto stared at the smile etched on your lips which screamed of suspicion. Now he was sure something was up.
“Love,” he said, his voice a tone lower than usual that made goosebumps appear on your skin, staring at his turquoise and gray eyes warily, “are you hiding something from me?”
“What? Psh, no,” you feigned innocence, shrugging, “Why would you think that?”
Shouto gave you a look, silently telling you that you should more than know the reason why, but you chose to remain ignorant. No point in questioning it any further then. He would have to pry the answer out himself.
Aware that you had no intention of letting him pass voluntarily, Shouto began putting his hero training to use. He side-stepped in a single motion, quickly pivoting on the balls of his feet to slip through your defenses. You didn’t have time to ask yourself what happened before you turned around to watch his reaction to what you left for him on the kitchen counter.
Upon entering the kitchen, Shouto’s heterochromatic eyes were immediately drawn to the marbled white-and-pink sweets sprawled across the parchment paper. His interest piqued, he walked straight to the chocolates with you trailing behind. You could feel the heat in your cheeks slowly rise from the embarrassment at seeing Shouto inspect your sorry excuse of chocolates.
“Hm, no soba noodles, but I may have found something even better,” he said, and you wondered if you heard correctly or that maybe he saw something you didn’t. You rapidly blinked about four times, letting your vision adjust, and yet your chocolates remained.
“You’re kidding… right?”
Shouto lifted a brow at your hesitance. “No, why would I be kidding?” he replied thoughtfully. He took one of the chocolates off the parchment paper, raising it in the air between his thumb and index finger. “You made these for me, didn’t you?”
“I mean, yeah, they were supposed to be a Valentine’s Day gift, but…”
“But..?” A frown settled on his lips, watching you nervously twiddle your thumbs while you held your hands against your apron. “Y/n, you can tell me.” Not liking how you weren’t meeting his eyes, his finger drew your chin up so he could get a better glimpse of your face.
“But they don’t look the part. They’re hideous,” you quietly admitted, your words mellowing into a whisper the more they departed your lips. The way he treated your creations as if they belonged on a pedestal didn’t sit right in your eyes. “So I... didn’t want you to see them, or any of this actually. I thought if you saw what I was doing, you’d get your hopes up for something special, only to be disappointed.” You tried avoiding his gaze again, but Shouto wouldn’t allow it, following your eyes as his hand pried yours apart to take one in his own.
His focus shifted from the pink and white chocolate held in front of him to the uncertainty clouding your expression. “I’m not sure what you mean. They look fine to me.”
“Sho, you don’t have to lie to me just so you don’t end up hurting my feelings. Anyone can see how uneven they look,” you said, pointing at the rest of the batch still sitting on the counter behind him. There was a low chuckle coming from the male’s lips, one that you guessed was out of amusement, but you were too caught in your troubled feelings to be sure.
“Well, I have to admit, they don’t exactly resemble the perfect, visual representation of the chocolates you’d find at the store or anything,” he acknowledged with you mumbling an ‘I told you so’ in response before he continued, “but that’s the reason why I like them. That means you made them for me and there isn’t any chocolate like it. They’re one of a kind.”
His genuine words took you aback, eyes glimmering and cheeks flushed. You were too wrapped up in your need for perfection that you didn’t realize you could consider your efforts that way.
“Besides,” he threw the little bonbon in his mouth, “they taste great,” he said as the strawberry and white cream melted on his tongue with its rich sweetness.
Despite his praise, you thought he had only said that because you knew for a fact that the chocolates did at least pass in the taste department. “But what if they had tasted bad too? What would you have said then?” You were bold enough to question, though half-worried about his answer in the back of your head—worried that he would have to take back those sweet words of his.
“I still would have eaten them, regardless. I’d never waste anything you’ve made for me, you should know that. To me, these chocolates are the sweetest delight not because they’re the best looking or tasting, but because they came from you,” he answered earnestly, bending down to tuck a hair away from your stunned yet grateful appearance which looked as if you were nearly about to sigh out loud in relief. You brought your body into his chest, tucking your head beneath his chin, and he wrapped his arms around you, lips pressed against your hair.
Shouto didn’t grant you much time to bask in your solace however, before beckoning you over to the kitchen counter. He wasn’t done teasing you just yet.
“Normally couples give each other milk chocolates on Valentine’s day. Any reason you decided on white and strawberry then?” Shouto noted, a grin on his lips as you seemed reluctant to reveal your reasoning—lips pursed and fingers playing with the hem of your apron.
“Well, they’re supposed to be your…” You finished by motioning at the crown of your head before pointing to his red and white locks.
Heh... Cute. The grin that was persistent on his features widened, and your response earned you a kiss on the cheek. “Thinking about me, huh?” he teased. You were more than aware of your intentions throughout your chocolate-making process, but it didn’t make the whole situation any less embarrassing when your motives came to light out of Shouto’s own mouth.
You pouted profusely, turning your face in the other direction as you nudged his arm. “Aren’t you going to eat the rest then?” you asked despite your demure demeanor. You couldn’t see it, but you were positive he was aiming that amused expression in your direction, leaning his head on his palm while his elbow was leveled on the counter.
“You made a lot of chocolates today, love. You don’t expect me to finish them all by myself, do you?” You heard the rustle of the parchment liner unsticking to something behind you. Then a finger poked your cheek, and out of curiosity, you followed where the disturbance came from, only to have a swirl of pink and white pushed past your lips.
“Mm..” you hummed surprisingly in delight at the harmonious strawberry and cream flavors coating your tastebuds.
“Tastes good, doesn’t it?” he asked.
“Yeah, I got to taste them before you arrived home.” You rubbed the back of your head. “And um, I didn’t exactly make these from scratch...” You went about divulging your methods to him, explaining your usage of chocolate melts, which all in all saved you a lot of time, considering your earlier mishaps with the brownies—a misfortune you also confessed to as you side-eyed the trash bin.
The dual-haired male laughed with mirth at the disasters you tangled yourself into today. “Seemed like you had an eventful Valentine’s Day at home without me.”
He scanned over your outfit, consisting of a simple buttoned blouse and a pair of jeans. What caught his eye the most was the frilly, laced brown and pink apron tied around your body. You must have bought this specifically to get in the spirit of Valentine’s Day because this was the first he’s seen you in this. Normally you’d wear those plain cotton aprons while you were cooking. Not something so charming and—dare he say—refreshing.
As you were continuing the conversation—going on about how vanquishing criminal organizations was more productive than whatever you were concocting at home—your words faded into the background. Shouto found it hard to focus on what you were saying, while your animated gestures seemed to enhance the shape of the apron against your body, emphasizing your physique.
Recalling the story you just mentioned, he imagined what the scene of you frantically dashing around the kitchen would look like as you wore this cute thing. Was it weird of him to hold fantasies of arriving home, being greeted by your endearing self donning this garment, dolled in its intricacies with a smile gracing the lips he oh so wanted to kiss every day?
Shouto would think so. He’s never heard of any anecdotes of this kind of behavior before. Perhaps it was how dainty and frilly the material appeared against your figure that stemmed such a risqué thought from him. If that was the case, then this apron was no different than lingerie. Or more specifically, those delicate lace babydolls you’d wear for him on those special occasions, in which you displayed the zenith of lust and vulnerability that rendered him a man ensnared by his need to utterly ravage you–
Fuck. Letting those imaginations cross his mind was a dangerous move. He felt himself getting hard, body exercising the willpower not to pounce and concede to his fantasies. Then again, no one could really blame him for thinking of his girlfriend this way on Valentine’s Day. Especially when you looked so damn cute right now that he could just eat you up.
“Shouto?” Your voice diverted his attention from the growing problem in his pants, though only for a moment. When his focus returned to you, all those lascivious thoughts buried in the back of his head made their way to the forefront again. Damn, did he have it bad.
“Is something wrong? You were zoning out for a bit.”
He shook his head, dispelling your concern. However, it was going to take more than that to sweep away the lust consuming his mind. “It’s nothing. More importantly, why don’t we continue tasting these chocolates?” Pulling up a stool, he took a seat next to the kitchen counter.
Just as you were going to mention that you needed to start on dinner soon, Shouto suddenly drew your body in between his parted legs. Thrown slightly off-balance, you instinctively held onto his shoulders to keep yourself steady.
You couldn’t help but notice the hand traveling up your legs as it situated itself on the back of your thigh, but the detail was abandoned as soon as it was manifested. The proximity between you two was too much not to overlook now. Shouto peered up at you with what you made out to be smoldering intensity, and the sight reduced you to shying away from his eyes again.
Of course, Shouto didn’t take a liking to that. With you so close, he didn’t want anything hindering his front seat viewing of your candid reactions. “Baby, look here,” he called to you. You followed his command, turning back to face the grin reaching his lips. “There’s my pretty girl.”
You attempted to open your mouth to reply but found another ball of marbled chocolate placed where words should’ve been.
Soft lips wrapped around him, Shouto had to fight back the urge to groan, feeling your tongue graze the pad of his thumb as he fed you the candy. His other hand, formerly occupied with rubbing subtle circles on your clothed flesh, wandered to the satin ribbon of your apron fashioned behind you.
It wasn’t long until you discerned the game he was playing through the fiery looks and frisky touching.
Well, enter player two.
You brought a hand to his wrist, keeping him there as your tongue made work at licking away the residual chocolate melted on his finger. You moved from his thumb to his index finger, noting not to miss anything with every flick as you confidently returned the heady expression with batted eyelashes.
Shouto breathed in silently through his nose, gritting his teeth, your sultry actions having an innate effect on him, to which you smirked at. There was a slight tug on the ribbon wrapped behind you. It wasn’t firm enough to where the knot came undone, but enough that you noticed his fixation on the material. If he was making an effort to exert some self-control, it was futile at this point. No doubt, he was going to take you before Valentine’s Day was over.
“Hmm, you’re right, these chocolates are pretty tasty. But it’s probably because you’re the one feeding them to me that they taste just soooo good,” you mused, adding a sensual tonality to your voice as you concluded your words with one last kitten lick.
The man before you bit the inside of his cheek, your voice alone making blood rush south. You little minx. He was going to make doubly sure you understood just what you were doing to him.
Finally releasing his hand, you reached over beside you to grab a chocolate off the parchment paper. “For you~” You giggled as you led the confection to Shouto’s mouth. He readily accepted your gift, lips wrapping around the tips of your fingers as the mellow flavors soothed his taste buds. He made a point of re-enacting your little show, tongue languidly lapping your fingers while he maintained steady eye contact. You shuddered at the wet warmth abiding your skin, the suffocating sexual tension in the air causing you to press your thighs together. The action was not overlooked by Shouto, who smiled amidst cleaning your fingers with every brush of his tongue.
“What’s wrong, love? You were so bold and talkative earlier. Cat got your tongue or something?” he teased. A smirk ran across the curl of his lips as his licks turned to kisses he planted on the back of your hand.
After finishing his task of lapping up every essence of sweetness off your skin, he lifted himself from the stool. Doing so made him stand tall over you, and he easily cornered you to where your back met the edge of the counter. Your wrist captured in one of his hands, he wove an arm around you, pulling your body into him.
“You know, there’s something I want to eat right now other than chocolates,” he confessed, forehead pressed to yours and glinted heterochromatic eyes latent with an insatiable hunger. The baritone of his voice sent shivers through your body and a throb aching in your core.
You innocently tilted your head at him. “Oh, is that so? And what would that be?”
He chuckled darkly at your redundant question.
“Why you of course, my love.”
The moment the words reached your ears, he lunged forward to seize your lips. You quickly followed in the sensual movements of his soft lips against yours like it was a practiced routine, not resisting his tongue prying its way into your mouth and submitting to the dance that made pleasure course through your veins.
A single tap on your thigh was your cue to hop into Shouto’s waiting grasp and wrap your arms around his neck. You pulled your bodies closer to where the few layers of clothing you both possessed did nothing to hide your enthusiasm for each other. You could feel your nipples under your bra stiffen at your arousal, growing more sensitive as you pressed your chest to him. Meanwhile, his hard erection shamelessly poked the inside of your thigh to which his grip was poised on remaining firm, grinding your lower half against him.
You expected this was where he intended to have you—right then and there in the middle of the kitchen—but to your surprise, Shouto had other plans. He navigated you two to the dining table as you continued feverishly making out with your legs wrapped around his waist. Never breaking the hot mingle of your lips, he carefully placed you on the edge. His hands were free to roam the expanse of your body, palming at places that elicited airy moans from you as he inscribed the niceties of your bonny apron into his memory. Though he cursed the unnecessary layers that obscured your beautiful flesh from him.
Finding the clothes still on you equally unbearable in the heat of your movements, you were on the same wavelength as him. You sought out the satin ribbon tied behind your back that kept the apron on your form, but before your fingertips could even reach the material to tug the knot loose, Shouto seized your wrists and led your hands away. Your face was scrunched with bewilderment by how sudden his actions were.
Shouto didn’t think he could have a fetish over something as ordinary and domestic as a decorative garment tied around your waist, but this Valentine’s Day was proving him otherwise. He was not about to pass an opportunity to absolutely ruin you in this pretty thing.
“Keep it on,” he ordered, voice deep and commanding.
“H-Huh? What about my clothes?” you stuttered, confused at first. You wanted to ask what spurred him to give such a demand, but you were too caught in the moment to think of objecting to his request (not that you had much choice anyway).
“Let me.” That was all he said before his hands sought after the waistband of your jeans and the buttons of your top. He pulled and undid the apparel until you were left in only your panties and that lovely apron. Your bra was quickly disposed of to the pile next to his feet thanks to the clip being located at the front this time, and he was eternally grateful for the convenience. You didn’t even have to mention anything for his own clothes to float above yours on the floor, sitting back on the table to admire his toned physique, now free for you to ogle in just his briefs.
His hooded, icy eyes concentrated on every aspect of your appearance. He didn’t dare miss a single detail in front of him—from your bare, flushed skin glowing beneath the light fixture to your aroused nipples shaped through the thin fabric. You were a sight Shouto would gladly worship for the rest of his life.
“You’re a sight for sore eyes, my love, and I’m going to enjoy ravaging you until all you know is my name.”
His words alone were enough to send a tingle of anticipation to your cunt. You did not shrink at his assertiveness, instead embracing both yours and Shouto’s desires with open arms.
“You have me, Sho. I’m all yours.”
The man released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding before inhaling and diving in. Your lips reencountered each other, continuing from where you left off with his tongue chasing after you. You laced your fingers in his soft hair to press him deeper to you as Shouto navigated down your neck. He sucked and licked at your skin; every tug he felt on his scalp compelled him to lay marks as he inched closer and closer to your breasts.
“Ahh.. Sho…” you mewled, feeling his hands grope one of your mounds and tease your slit through your panties. With no intention of letting this apron off your body, Shouto pushed the fabric concealing your chest inward to reveal a perky nipple, seeming excited to be covered by his mouth. Well, who was he to deny such exuberance, especially when he himself was hungry to taste?
Lips enclosing the stiffened nub, Shouto sucked and prodded with fervor. As you squirmed and squealed beneath him, your fingers pulled harder at his strands which he hummed in content at. The tip of his tongue circled your areola, making the slick clinging to your panties damper at the stimulation. The hand occupied between your thighs stroked you against the fabric before pulling it to the side to touch you directly.
“Oh fuck!” you cursed at the contact as Shouto did not hesitate to start pumping a finger into your pussy.
“Damn, you’re so wet down here. Did my kisses and teasing do all this?”
You were too distracted by the precise movements of his fingers working through you to answer, words superseded by your wanton moans. “Keep making those pretty sounds, love. I want you to cry out as I’m ruining you.”
Your noises hit a crescendo when his fingers began curling inside you, stretching into places that lit stars behind your eyes. His thumb rubbed your clit to intensify the fire building in your abdomen. Your back arched on the table as you grabbed onto Shouto’s free hand for dear life, already feeling that flame ready to ignite.
“Sho– Wait, I’m gonna–”
“Don’t hesitate, sweetheart. Coat my fingers with your cum,” he told you, increasing the speed of his thumb against your bundle of nerves as he continually hit that euphoric soft spot.
At his words, your pussy clenched hard around him, practically sucking him in. You threw your head back against the table, releasing a loud cry of his name as your orgasm engulfed your whole body with electrifying pleasure. Chest heaving up and down, your breaths sounded ragged as your vision went white before slowly adjusting to the light.
Shouto slid his fingers out of you and brought them to his mouth, licking at the layer of gloss. He observed your fucked-out state from above and admired his handiwork—your lips swollen, eyes glassy, and sweaty skin adorned with his marks.
“You taste absolutely delicious, you know,” he said almost too sweetly, like he had immediately gotten drunk off drinking the remnants of your orgasm. And, of course, he had to let you know how delectable you were. Shouto provided you a sample by pressing his fingers to your lips. You obediently parted them, welcoming your essence on your tongue.
“Don’t you think so?”
You hummed and nodded in agreement. Shouto grinned, bending down to mix your flavor in each other’s mouths. He finally removed your ruined panties and slid them down your legs. But to no one’s surprise, the apron stayed on your person.
When you parted, Shouto gestured for you to get up from the table. In doing so, you had anticipated this would be the time to head straight to the bedroom, but the night continued to prove you wrong. Shouto was still famished.
“Stand up for a second, baby. I want to lay down as I have my meal.” You didn’t need to guess to know just what he wanted to satiate his appetite tonight.
Shouto laid himself flat across the table, the majority of his legs dangling off the edge. You, on the other hand, were apprehensive at his approach, cautiously wondering if your modest dining table could handle the rampant motions of two adult bodies on top of it at once. Should the legs give way and the table collapses, the gravity of your descent would put all your weight onto him. What if you hurt him as a result?
“Love, what’s the holdup?” your boyfriend called, breaking your train of thought, “Come, your throne awaits.” He patted his chest—a rather peculiar place to sit but your cunt pulsed at the image of you riding that gorgeous face of his.
“O-Okay, I’m just afraid of hurting you, is all,” you said, pulling at the hem of your apron for security.
He raised his upper body halfway to see the hesitance painted on your features. “Y/n, there’s no need to worry, I wouldn’t have thought of doing this if I couldn’t handle it,” he assured, his hand reaching out for you. “Trust me. I won’t let anything happen to us.”
You stared at the hand hovering in front of you and then at Shouto’s eyes glimmering with faith, and you knew you could trust his word. So you take his hand, climbing onto the table and over his body where you straddled his chest.
“Dining tables are meant to be eaten on, right? Well, I intend to devour you until your legs are shaking beside me, sweetheart,” he promised. He stroked up and down your thighs tauntingly. Your breaths hitched as he maneuvered you above his face, moving the flap of your apron so you could feel his cold breath against your lower lips.
“As much as I appreciate all those confections you made for me, they all pale in comparison to the sweetest delight here–” He uttered praises to your core while rubbing the soft flesh of your thighs. “This pretty, soft, and dripping pussy.”
Warmth spread across your cheeks at his lewd words and how close in proximity he was to your twitching center. The one thing you detested about this apron at this moment was the fact it blocked you from what Shouto was doing, the bottom half lying right above his face. To him, however, it made everything all the more entertaining.
Despite being the one trapped under you, it must have felt like you were more in the dark than he was. After all, he was the one asserting dominance in this situation, and with a layer of fabric hiding his face, you had no idea how or when he was going to eat you out. His deafening silence was not offering you one bit of reassurance either. If he truly intended to devour you atop this table, he should just do it already.
“...Sho? Are you—Ah!” Upon questioning him, your words were choked by your surprised squeal, feeling him delicately kiss your folds with chilly lips attached to your warm pussy. You opened your mouth to speak again, yet you struggled to search for words as Shouto’s tongue flattened against you, licking a long strip before latching onto your sensitive pearl. The more he relentlessly sucked and teased, the more you sang out with waves of pleasure quivering through your body.
Hearing your beautiful noises, he chuckled, tongue vibrating on your clit. Every sound you produced made his cock stutter, still leaking and begging for attention beneath his briefs.
Not liking how inactive you were—simply sitting on his face and waiting for yourself to come undone on his tongue—you reached behind yourself to trail your hand down his abdomen. His body tensed, abs immediately flexing at your soft touch. You noticed his ministrations falter in their rhythm.
“B-Baby, what are you doing?” he questioned, pulling himself off of you to concentrate on your hand running along the waistband of his briefs. His fingers dug into your flesh as you found his length, tentatively giving it a pump that gave birth to a strained noise below the flap of your apron.
“You’ve been doing all the work so far, Sho. I just want you to enjoy yourself,” you said. His eyebrows were scrunched, hissing through his teeth at your thumb grazing his slit, mixing his precum around the tip.
“I am enjoying myself—this is all I could ever ask for,” he replied honestly. He lifted the frilly material off his face so you could discover your slick running down his lips and neck, the blush spread across his fair cheeks an more than sufficient indication that he derived nothing but delight from being in this position. He looked like an absolute mess, yet the debauched sight made both your heart and pussy flutter.
“But if you want to join in, I won’t stop you.”
At that, Shouto detached himself from your sweetness for just a second to quickly reposition you above him. You were adjusted to where you were practically on all fours on the table now, facing the prominent bulge raised on his briefs while your fluttering cunt was somehow even more obscenely split in front of him. You were thankful the piece of furniture stayed intact throughout the motions, pleasantly astounded by its strength. However, you couldn’t pause to be impressed by this detail for long. Not when Shouto’s aching erection pleaded for you to continue touching it.
Your hand returned to its original place—wrapped around his heavy length that wept with precum coating the surface of its mushroom top. As you stroked it up and down in a consistent rhythm, you altered your grip to tighten more around him.
“Ooh yeah, that’s it, baby. Just like that… Ahhhh, fuckkkk—” You were rewarded by his praises and groans at the splendid pressure surrounding his dick. It encouraged you to keep up your pace and add another hand to the fray to increase the tension.
“You’re doing so well, making me feel so fucking good, love. Can you add your mouth for me now?” he requested, and you happily complied. Your tongue flattened against his cock, noting every vein and twitch running across your wet muscle that reduced Shouto to muttering obscenities behind you. Reaching the top, you swirled your tongue along the tip before taking the entire head into your warm cavern. Shouto’s thighs flexed, body almost trembling at how heavenly you made him feel. He couldn’t be outdone.
You let out a whine on his cock, feeling his mouth working against you again. This time you felt the effects stronger than before as Shouto spread your pussy lips to grant him better access to tongue fuck you. He stimulated every sensitive area with practiced ease, making sure to flick your clit with extra vigor to achieve the best results. You delivered in your reactions—legs shaking and knees slowly and deliberately being reduced to jelly.
Even ensnared in ecstasy, you did your best to adapt to his intensity, engulfing him more into your mouth. Your hands worked together to maximize the most pleasure you could give him, fondling his balls and gripping the base of his cock.
The lewdest of sounds filled the room in an unrelenting symphony. From your muffled whimpers to your pussy squelching in the presence of Shouto’s mouth purring against you, there was no shortage of bliss evident in the atmosphere. Hearing yourselves in the throes of rapture as you devoured each other’s whole beings like starved animals, you two were simultaneously climbing toward your highs.
“Shit, keep doing just that baby, and I’m going to paint that pretty mouth of yours white,” he warned half-heartedly. You purred, the enthusiasm laced your tone informing Shouto you wanted him to do just that. He was pleased by your response.
“You want it, don’t you, you slutty girl? Well, I expect you to drown me in your honey while I cover your throat with my cum then.” Those were the last words he spared you before proceeding to manifest them into reality. His hands dug themselves in the flesh below your ass cheeks, exposing your pussy to his appendage that swiped away at your clit until shockwaves made you tremble above him.
You were the first to come undone, juices running down your thighs and boyfriend’s chin. Your cries were muffled amidst Shouto’s dick caught down your throat, tightening around his length, which surged with spurts of white all over your mouth. You swallowed every single drop of his seed, wiping at the excess on your lips as you released the hero’s cock with a loud pop.
After taking a moment to catch your breaths, you carefully moved off of each other. Shouto steadied you on his lap, letting you straddle him as he sat on the edge of the table. He intertwined your fingers through his and brought them to his lips to place a tender kiss on the back of your hand.
“I love you, sweetheart.”
“I love you too, Shouto. Happy Valentine’s Day.”
1K notes · View notes
beomcoups · 3 years
Text
Birthday Confessions | JJK
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𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 :Jungkook x reader
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 :swearing, unprotected sex, oral (m and f receiving), backshots, dirty talk, masturbating, hair pulling
𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 :R (18+)
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 :smut, fluff, best friends to lovers au
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 :2.8k
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : It's your best friend Jungkook’s birthday, and you have a crush on him. Will those feelings be reciprocated?
AN: I previously wrote this on my main but since I have switched over to this blog, I have re-edited it and deleted it from my other blog. Thank you @taegularities​ for reading over this for me 💜
 Happy birthday Kook!
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DING!
The oven’s alarm goes off, and you stop getting dressed and head to the kitchen to take the cake out of the oven. You look over the banana-milk-flavored cake and poke a small hole into it to ensure you thoroughly cooked the cake. Satisfied with the result, you place the dessert on the counter to cool off, setting another time to remind you to ice the cake, and you go back into your room to get dressed. 
Today is your best friend Jungkook’s birthday, and you wanted to bake a cake for him as a birthday gift. He always raves about your baking, and you wanted to do something special for him. Since high school, you have known each other, and now you both are about to graduate from college.
He is going to be moving into the music business, whereas you are going to be an editor for one of the top, well-known publishing companies in the world. You two have been inseparable since the day you met in science class senior year in high school, and over the years, you started to like him more than a friend. His smile brightens your day, and his laugh is infectious. He is thoughtful, kind, intelligent, and very nice to look at. 
You never thought to tell him how you feel as you did not want to mess up your friendship, but you couldn’t help but get green with envy when you saw Jungkook with other girls or when he talked to you about his many sexcapades. You wish it was you he was fucking until the crack of dawn and then some. You have lost count of how many times you masturbated looking at videos of Jungkook he uploaded on social media with his shirt off.
There was a time that he almost walked in on you, your favorite purple dildo nudged nicely in your wet pussy, tiny beads of sweat dripping on your face as you’d just experienced one of the biggest orgasms you’d ever had.  He walked in, and you were able to cover yourself in time before he saw anything, relieved and slightly disappointed that he did not see you in that compromising position. You made it a point to make sure he never caught you like that again, but the burning desire between your legs stayed the same.
You decided to wear a black tank top with figure-hugging blue jeans, not exposing too much but enough to show off your figure. You opted to put your curly hair into a messy bun and add lip gloss to your full lips. You have always been confident about your looks, and you didn’t feel the need to add more makeup when you are just going to be at home. You put on your favorite cherry-smelling lotion and take one last look in the mirror before going back into the kitchen to clean up your mess. The timer goes off just in time, and you start icing the cake and topping it with bananas and strawberries. 
Knock! Knock!
You jump a little, your heart skipping a few beats, carefully placing the cake on the table. You know it’s Jungkook, and you take a few deep breaths before opening the door and letting him in.
“It smells so good in here,” he comments as he takes off his shoes and sets his jacket on the coat rack.
You hum softly as you walk past him to meet him at the table to show him the cake you made for him.
“TUH-DAH!” you exclaim gleefully, pointing at the cake. “Happy birthday, JK.”
“Thank you,” he returns your excitement, rubbing his hands together. 
You grab forks and plates and start cutting pieces of the cake together for you guys to eat. You watch him take a bite, watching the satisfaction form on his face as he takes his first bite.
“Geez Y/N,” Jungkook says in between bites. “You have always been a good baker. You are gonna be the end of me, I swear.”
You nod and smile, taking a bite of your own cake, satisfied with your own baking. 
He talks to you about his day and what he did for his birthday, but you are only half-listening, distracted by the small bite of icing on the corner of his mouth. You can feel your center throbbing at the thought of his lips in between your legs, and just your luck; the a/c comes on and makes the room cold enough that your nipples start to get hard and visible through your shirt. You get up quickly and rinse off your plate and fork to put in the dishwasher. 
You turn around, and Jungkook is right behind you, the small piece of icing still on the corner of his mouth. You instinctively wipe the bit of icing away, and a wave of shock runs through you after realizing what you did. You excuse yourself and go into the bathroom, eyeing the small piece of icing on your finger.
Your mouth salivates, and you put your finger in your mouth, savoring the taste of the cool icing that was blessed by being touched by him. Your mind trails to dark thoughts, and you take your other hand and slide it inside your jeans, brushing past your panties and reaching your nub. You rub yourself softly, electric shock running through your legs as you position yourself against the wall, holding your breath and biting your lip to hide your moans.
“Hey, are you okay in there?”
Jungkook’s voice cuts through your trance, and you stop immediately, turning on the sink water to wash your hands.
“I’m okay. I’ll be out in a second.”
You wash your hands intensely and leave the bathroom, finding yourself facing him on your bed.
He has been in your room plenty of times before, and so it’s nothing new to see him sitting there, so you take a seat next to him.
“So, what are your plans for the rest of the evening?” you ask cooly.
“Nothing really,” he shrugs. “I wanted to hang out here with you if that’s okay?” 
“You know you don’t have to ask me,” you assure him.
You grab a remote and flip through your multiple streaming services, settling to watch a scary movie. You both get into the covers and feel comfortable like you have a million times before starting the movie. An hour into the film, you notice that his hands are slightly shaking, and his eyes look away from yours when you look at him.
“Are you okay, JK?”
“Yes… no. Well, I think so,” Jungkook’s voice cracks.
You pause the movie and turn to face him, now sitting up.
“I have something I need to tell you,” he says slowly, not meeting your gaze.
“Are you okay? What’s wrong?” you inquire, moving to the foot of the bed so you can look at him better.
“I’m fine. Physically I mean. I just don’t know how to say it….”
“For the love of God, Jeon Jungkook, what do you have to say to me—”
“I LIKE YOU!” he shouts, his voice filling the room like echoes.
You look at him, mouth open and eyes wide, shocked at his confession. He lets out a sigh of relief and grabs your hand, pulling you closer.
“I… like you, y/n. I’ve liked you for a while now. I just didn’t know how to tell you.”
You regain your senses, still in disbelief of what you are hearing. You move closer to him, absentmindedly rubbing his hand with your thumb. A small smile creeps up on your face, and a beam of happiness shoots out of you. You never thought in a million years that your feelings for him would be reciprocated, and you’re not stupid enough to not tell him how you feel.
“I was not expecting this, like at all,” you admit.
“I’m sorry? Was this too much?” He starts to panic and gets off of the bed quickly.
He starts pacing back and forth and apologizing profusely for making you uncomfortable. You hate seeing him sad and disappointed, and you want nothing more than to make it better. You walk over to him and stop him in his tracks, softly tugging his shirt and kissing him. He takes a small step back, realizing what is happening, and kisses you back. His hands reach for the back of your head, and he takes out your bun, letting your hair fall down to your shoulders. Your need for him intensifies, and you pull his shirt over his head, revealing his toned abs that have made you weak for the past two years. 
“Wait, does this mean you like me?” Jungkook asks with soft, pleading eyes.
“Yes… I do,” you confess, taking off your tank top. “I’ve liked you for a long time too. I was just scared to tell you how I felt. I didn’t want to mess up our friendship.”
He smirks and kisses you again. This time his kisses are hungrier, groans escaping his lips as he gnaws on your neck and unbuttons your jeans. You already weren’t wearing a bra, and he stops to look at you, your breasts jiggling a little as he pushes you on the bed. He gets on top of you, kissing you some more, and his cool hands slide into your panties and reach your core. You jump at the coolness of his hands, but that goes away quickly when he starts softly rubbing your mound, the sensation sending warm waves through your body. 
“Baby, you don’t have to worry about messing anything up for me,” he whispers into your ear. “I’ve wanted you for a long time now, and I want to prove that to you.”
He stops his movements, and you whine at the sudden loss of his touch. To your surprise,  he slides your panties off your body and opens your legs, his mouth salivating at the sight. He kisses your thighs softly, working your way up to your center, and he gives your bud a soft kiss before lathering you with his tongue. He’s all business, sucking on your clit and humming on it that makes your legs jolt at the sudden rush of pleasure you always dreamed about.
You grab the back of his head and ride his face a little, his tongue catching up with your movements while your free hand reaches your left nipple, pinching it softly. Your brain can’t form any words to compliment him as you are in a trance full of ecstasy, ready to burst at the seams. You feel that familiar fire burning in your stomach, and you warn him that you are about to cum.
“Go ahead. Cum in my mouth,” he says with his lips still on your clit.
You scream his name as you explode, your sweet juices flowing into his mouth, and he licks it all up until you are ripe with oversensitivity. You lift up your body a bit, and you thank him, lifting his head to look at the mess you made and kissing him back.
You can taste yourself on him, and you savor it, trailing your hands down to his member. You pull his jeans and his boxers down, revealing his arousal, already leaking with precum. You rub him softly, and without losing eye contact, get on your knees and give his dick a small kiss. He shivers a little, and you smirk, wrapping his mouth around his cock. 
“You look so pretty when you do that,” he rasps, his grip tight on your shoulder. 
Your hands are still on his dick as your head bobs back and forth, sucking him in as you satisfy your own craving of him. You love making him moan. It’s a deep gratification to see the power you hold over him. He pants as he calls your name, roughly tugging your hair and telling you how much of a good girl you are for taking him so well.
You never lose eye contact with him, and you remove one of your hands to start playing with yourself again. You feel him tense up, and you take him out of your mouth, spitting on his dick before putting him back in. He pulls himself out and lifts you up, throwing you on the bed with your ass in the air.
“I can’t wait anymore,” he pumps himself before sliding in. “I need to be inside of you now.”
You nod as you brace yourself for the impact his thick dick is going to have on your tight cunt. He slowly eases himself in, and you feel yourself coming undone already, but you hold on, not wanting to disappoint him. He suddenly pulls out and slams into you, causing you to scream out in pleasure and pain. He hikes your ass in the air some more as he pummels you, pulling onto your thick hair.
You moan with every deep stroke he is throwing at you, and you guide your hips with him to match his rhythm. The sound combination of skin slapping and moans fills the room, and you are sure the neighbors next door can hear you, but you don’t care. You open your eyes and look back at him, not being able to hide the pleasure he is making you feel any longer. 
“Your wet, little cunt feels so good on this dick,” Jungkook grits your teeth. “I want to feel you explode all over me.” 
He takes one of his hands and rubs your clit once more, and you feel electricity run through you as you feel yourself about to come undone. Your walls clench around his member as a wave of orgasm rushes over you, screaming his name as you grab onto the sheets, your words incoherent to anyone else but him.
Jungkook understands your love language, and his thrusts get sloppier, pulling out in a groan, coating all over your back. He collapses on the bed next to you, both of you catching your breath from the release you both had. You take a peek at him and he is looking at you, partly in disbelief that this really happened.
“Wow,” you said in between breaths. “That was—”
“Amazing,” he finishes your sentence and kisses you once more.
He goes to your bathroom and grabs a hand towel with body soap and wipes his territory off your back and wipes in between your legs. You grab his shirt and put it on quickly, leaving the room to go into the kitchen and get another piece of cake. You feel him come behind you and wrap his arms around your waist, giving you a soft kiss on the cheek.
“Well, this was one hell of a birthday gift,” Jungkook says gleefully.
“I guess you can say that,” you say sheepishly, taking a bite out of your piece of cake.
“I honestly never thought this would become a thing. Us, I mean,” you start. “I have liked you since forever, and it was so hard seeing you with other girls because I wanted to be them. You just get me in ways that no one else does. I don’t have to explain my jokes to you or my thoughts, because it feels like we are on the same wavelength at all times. You make me feel safe and at peace. I feel like home is wherever you are and when you are not around, I feel lost. I know I can be vain sometimes and moody, but you have never judged me for that. I know I am just rambling on, but I just want you to know how I feel.”
Jungkook stands there quietly, and you start to panic mentally, wondering if you said too much. Small tears start to form in your eyes, and you turn away, not wanting him to see the shame you feel for pouring your heart out like that. You begin to walk away when he grabs your hand and pulls you in his direction, kissing you once more.
The cake you had in your hand drops to the floor, and you rest your hands on his shoulder, sweetly kissing him back. You stay there for a few minutes, nothing mattering at that moment but you two. You feel your heart move in ways you haven’t felt in a long time, and you relish in that feeling, not wanting to lose it. His hands graze your face, and he breaks the kiss, looking into your eyes.
“Don’t run away from me anymore, okay?” he pleads, kissing you once more. “I’m yours. I feel the same way as you, and I’m not going anywhere.”
The feeling of comfort comes over you, and you nod, feeling okay with his response. You both notice the cake you dropped and burst into laughter. He tells you to go into the room while he cleans up, and you wait for him, looking for another movie to watch. Shortly after, Jungkook comes back, taking the remote and throwing it across the bed. He leads you back onto the pillows, lifting the shirt you are wearing, exposing your breasts, his eyes dark and full of sin.
“Round 2?”
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ticklishfiend · 3 years
Text
Strawberry Milk (My Hero Academia)
Ship : Lee!Bakugou Ler!Kirishima (Kiribaku)
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A/N : this took forever to make and it's the longest fic i've posted on this account so far, but i just had a lot of fun making it!! i hope you guys enjoy it, especially the lovely krbk anon who inspired this. they actually sent a few prompts that have inspired other krbk tickle fic ideas that i'll more than likely write for soon as well, but for now i hope you enjoy this!! much love <33
Summary : Kirishima stays for a sleepover at Bakugou’s childhood home, and after accidentally pissing off the explosive teen, seeks out some professional help from someone who may know the boy best: his father. From this, Kirishima learns a quick way from the boys childhood to get him forgiveness in no time.
Word Count : 5113 (jfc lmao)
REBLOGS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED!! MWAH <33
. . .
“Are you seriously mad at me over this?” Kirishima asked with a confused, breathy chuckle. He watched as his best friend pouted with arms crossed over his chest like a child, glaring daggers into the redhead from his spot on the bed.
“Yes. And I do not plan on changing that. So don’t fucking try me, Spiky Hair” Bakugou turned his body fully away from Kirishima now, who was lounged rather comfortably on Bakugou’s orange beanbag seated on the ground. Kirishima rolled his eyes at Bakugou’s childishness, though still couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty.
After months of practically having to beg the explosive teen for a sleepover at his childhood home, the blonde finally relented and allowed Kirishima to be a guest in his home for the weekend. Bakugou’s parents were actually pretty happy to have Bakugou back at the house, even if for such a short period of time, and were even more thrilled when they realized someone actually wanted to come with him. Bakugou was never really one for making (and keeping) close friends growing up, so this was something they were definitely excited over the prospects of.
He and Bakugou had been playing video games for the past couple of hours now, their most recent game that Bakugou was now practically fuming over being...Minecraft. Bakugou had gotten pretty attached to a wolf he unsurprisingly named “Prince Homicide,” but after bringing it to a cave while mining with Kirishima, the red-head had accidentally pushed it into a vat of lava, killing it almost instantly.
So that’s where the pair were now. Bakugou seething from his spot criss-crossed on the bed, now turned away from Kirishima with his arms crossed like a child towards the wall. Kirishima sighed, pushing himself off the beanbag and walking towards Bakugou’s door.
“Look, I’m gonna go get something to drink. You want anything?” Kirishima raised his eyebrows in hopes of a response.
“Die,” was all he got.
Kirishima bit back another chuckle, opening the door before turning his head back around to look at Bakugou, who was now fiddling with his sheets and grumbling to himself angrily. “Alright, well, I’ll be back in just a minute. Hopefully you’ll have calmed yourself down enough by then.”
“I AM CALM YOU RED-HAIRED LOSER!” Bakugou yelled at the door as Kirishima quickly walked out and shut the door to avoid the small blasts he could hear shooting from the boy’s palms. Kirishima just shook his head with a grin, making his way down the stairs and towards the kitchen.
When he arrived, he saw Bakugou’s father cooking dinner on the stove. It made Kirishima smile, reminding him of his own home a little, though he hadn’t been back home in a while. He did miss his moms quite a lot since moving to the dorms, and he’ll definitely have to invite Bakugou over to meet them sometime soon.
He could smell the amazing spices his father had been adding to whatever meat and noodles he had in the pot, the scent almost burning Kirishima’s nose from how spicy he could tell it was. ‘Obviously loving spiciness must run in the family,’ Kirishima thought as he opened up the fridge, alerting the father’s attention.
“Oh, Kirishima! Are you looking for anything specific?” the man asked, looking up from his steaming pot for a moment to smile at his son’s best friend. Kirishima shot a cheerful smile right back at him.
“Oh, just some water would be fine!” he nodded, grabbing a water bottle from one of the fridge drawers, before remembering the seething boy upstairs waiting for his return. He grinned. “Actually, what does Bakugou normally drink here? At the dorms he usually has protein shakes but you probably don’t have those just lying around,” Kirishima chuckled, sitting his water bottle down on the kitchen island to look at his friend’s father.
“Well, the boy doesn’t usually like to admit it but he’s quite keen on strawberry milk,” he smiled with a nod as he went back to stirring his pot, glancing over towards Kirishima with a grin.
“Shoot, really? Didn’t peg him for the strawberry milk type of guy,” Kirishima giggled, looking back in the fridge and noticing the few bottles of strawberry milk they had lying on the shelf, probably bought when they found out Bakugou was coming home for the weekend. “He’s kinda mad at me right now so I figured I’d make a peace offering.”
“Not a bad idea, kid. I’ve had to do my fair share of those over the years. Katsuki’s always been the rather...angry type,” Masaru’s eyebrows furrowed downward towards his pot, shaking his head as if thinking of all the times the boy must’ve lost his temper at his old man.
“What did you used to do when he was little? Y’know, whenever he got all...aah!” Kirishima accentuated his little growl imitating Bakugou by shaking his hands angrily in front of him, just like how Bakugou usually does when he’s about to blow someone to kingdom come. This made Masaru laugh, shaking his head and adding a few more spices to the pot.
“Well...as of now, I usually just let his mother handle everything. But when he was little, Mitsuki and I would usually just tickle the little guy ‘til he giggled all that anger out,” Masaru smiled at the fond memories, glancing over towards Kirishima who held a wide-eyed, shocked but excited expression on his face. Masaru chuckled, pointing his spoon towards the teen. “But you did not hear this from me, understand?”
“Oh, totally, I got your back 100% Mr. Bakugou,” Kirishima saluted the man with a grin, making him laugh once more with a fond shake of the head. Kirishima lowered his hand, finally grabbing the strawberry milk from the fridge and sitting it on the counter with his water, promptly shutting the fridge door. “So...that didn’t make him angry or anything? He wouldn’t, like, explode you and Mrs. Bakugou to ashes or something?”
“Well I’m still here to tell the story, aren’t I?” Masaru gestured to his body with his spoon, Kirishima nodding with a chuckle. “Nah, he used to love it when we did that! Sometimes I think he’d pretend to be angry on purpose just so we’d play ‘Claw’ with him.”
“Claw? What’s Claw?” Kirishima asked, now leaning on the counter with his head propped up on his hand, listening intently as if this was the single most interesting thing he’d ever heard (because in all honesty? It very well might’ve been).
“Oh boy, Claw was his favorite. I would always hold his hands down so he couldn’t get away, while his mother would make a claw hand and tickle it into his stomach and ribs. It always had little Katsuki in stitches,” Masaru was very obviously enjoying remembering these fond memories of his son, seeming like he had almost completely forgotten about these fun little moments until Kirishima had brought them all back to light. “We always did it when he was being bratty, but not bratty enough to deserve a time-out. Sometimes, though, he wouldn’t even have to do anything bad, he’d just come out and ask for Claw when he felt playful. It was always so cute,” Masaru grinned widely, looking over towards Kirishima and promptly pointing his spoon back at the boy. “And, again you didn’t hear any of this from me, but…”
He paused, almost debating whether or not this was a good idea. He was finally swayed on his decision, however, when he saw the bright look of excitement in Kirishima’s eyes at the prospect of an actually happy Bakugou. He couldn’t help but cave.
“...but if you wanna really get him laughing, his worst spots are the spot riiiiight under his armpits, and the sides of his thighs. You get him there and he’ll be forgiving you in no time.”
Kirishima nodded with a large, toothy grin, swiping the drinks off the counter and practically bouncing in his spot as he backed his way out of the kitchen. “Thank you so much, Mr. Bakugou. It was truly an honor to know you, but I’ve got a death sentence waiting for me upstairs.”
“You get him, kiddo!” Masaru shouted towards the teen as he scurried his way out of the kitchen and towards the stairs giddily.
Kirishima was practically cheesing when he made his way towards Bakugou’s childhood bedroom, and had to mentally and physically calm himself down before entering so as not to alert Bakugou of his devious scheme.
He pushed the door open, finding Bakugou to now be leaning with his back against the wall, arm propped up on his knee as he scrolled mindlessly through his phone. He scowled upon hearing Kirishima’s entrance, not even bothering to look up towards the boy as he grumbled, “Damn, I was hoping you were gonna stay down there all night.”
Kirishima rolled his eyes, tossing the milk onto the bed beside the blonde and hopping onto it himself. Bakugou’s eyes widened at the sudden movement beside him, eyes darting down to the drink on his bed before scowling back up at Kirishima. “How the fuck did you know I like this shit, I never drink it at school.”
Kirishima grinned, opening up his own water bottle. “Oh, just a little birdy,” he giggled, taking a sip of his water and watching as Bakugou begrudgingly took his own drink and started opening it as well.
“This doesn’t mean I forgive you, moron. These are just...really good,” Bakugou wasn’t looking at Kirishima, obviously still angry as he went back to staring at his phone instead of paying the redhead any mind.
“C’mon, man, I didn’t mean to! It wasn’t on purpose!” Kirishima practically pleaded next to him, putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder which was immediately shrugged off rather aggressively. “Look, I’m sorry. Would it make you feel better if I helped you find a new wolf?”
“Are you kidding me?! I’m not playing this shitty game with you anymore, you fucking suck at it!” Bakugou had a scowl on his face that looked like what he was saying was the single most obvious thing in the whole world. Kirishima just sighed, closing up his water and throwing it down on the bed.
“I’d hate to make you, Bakugou, but you may just force my hand,” Kirishima shook his head slowly as if in disappointment, only making Bakugou’s brows cross in confusion.
“The fuck do you mean ‘make me,’ you idiot?! You can’t force me to do shit, and I’m not fucking playing this game with you,” Bakugou pushed, and to anyone else it definitely wouldn’t sounded like he meant it. But Kirishima knew Bakugou far, far too well. He could hear the competition in his voice, see the spark of want in his eyes that just said ‘please fight me on this.’ He wanted a challenge. Kirishima could see that. And boy was he gonna give it to him.
“Oh, but can’t I?” Kirishima’s voice sounded almost taunting, and once he saw that Bakugou was looking at him with competitiveness painted all over his face, he brought both of his hands up to wiggle fingers menacingly towards the boy.
Bakugou instantly knew what he meant. And if the fact he immediately closed his drink and sat it on his nightstand was no indication that he wanted this to continue, the way he backed up on his bed cautiously with wide eyes instead of immediately fighting Kirishima back most definitely was.
He was excited.
“Kirishima, don’t you fucking dare,” Bakugou pressed through a lie, his eyes never once looking away from those still wiggling fingers taunting him in the air, as if too embarrassed to look Kirishima in the eyes and completely give it away that he wanted this, he wanted the fight. He didn’t have to look for Kirishima to know, though. The redhead was still able to see Bakugou’s face even if Bakugou wouldn’t look at him, and he could see the giddiness behind his wall of caution, which only pushed him to continue.
“Then let’s play the game, Bakugou,” Kirishima grinned as Bakugou gave him no response, only backing further away until finally Kirishima pounced, tackling and fighting Bakugou to the bed. This was the least Bakugou had ever put up a fight with him. Kirishima knew how Bakugou fought, he knew just how skilled and precise his moves always were, and he was giving Kirishima practically none of that. Though he did technically fight his way down, he was still inevitably completely tackled and pinned by the redhead, which almost never happened in their regular spars and play fights.
Kirishima forced Bakugou’s arms up above his head, the hardening hero-in-training using his quirk to keep the boy’s hands pinned there for good. His body hovered over Bakugou’s, a rather compromising position if they were to be walked into, but neither boy cared about that in the moment. They were too focused on the excitement and unadulterated giddiness bubbling in the pit of their bellies, and as Kirishima gazed down at Bakugou with a look of mischief in his eyes, Bakugou knew he knew. Kirishima knew Bakugou wanted this, and now the blonde was aware of that. Bakugou couldn’t quite tell if that made this better or worse.
“Fine then. We can play a different game. How about…” Kirishima paused, mocking as if in hard thought as Bakugou’s lips twitched, his eyes wide in a skittish anticipation. Kirishima finally let out a small pretend gasp, looking down at Bakugou before raising up his free hand in a claw shape. “...Claw.”
Bakugou’s eyes could not have been any wider. His cheeks were stained pink, and he squirmed under Kirishima’s pin, “No, nonono don’t you dare fucking touch me you red piece of shit, I swear to god I’ll fucking-HNG!” Bakugou choked on his words, eyes slamming shut as he felt five meticulous fingers skittered over his now bare tummy, as Kirishima must have pushed up his shirt while Bakugou was too busy threatening. Those nails were fucking torturous against his skin, his nerves lighting up and sparking with a specific feeling he hadn’t felt in what had to be years now. It was so bad, so so bad, but...god, he didn’t realize just how much he had missed this feeling until now.
“Uh oh,” Kirishima’s voice held a teasing tone that made Bakugou shake his head, still trying desperately to hold back any and all giggles that threatened to crawl from his gut. Kirishima chuckled darkly. “Looks like someone’s a little ticklish, huh?”
Bakugou only continued to shake his head from side to side, tugging at his pinned arms with no real fervor behind it. Kirishima couldn’t help the smile on his face seeing the boy like this, so flustered and obviously having a good time at something so cute. He could tell Bakugou was desperately trying to contain his giggles, which was definitely his average pride slipping through, but there was no way Kirishima was just going to let that slide.
With a smirk evil enough to send shivers down the blonde’s spine, Kirishima finally dug in, vibrating all five of his fingers into the boy’s taut abdomen. Bakugou howled, arching his back and kicking wildly behind Kirishima as loud giggles and squeals escaped his ever-excited being.
“NAHAHAHA! KIRISHIMAHAHAHA!” Bakugou screamed, those fingers never relenting in their claw-shaped torment on his belly. “SHIHIHIT AHAHAHA!”
“Damn, Bakugou, you’re really ticklish,” Kirishima chuckled, massaging his fingers into the boy’s muscles, causing his to spasm like he’d been shocked, screaming and kicking and cursing all the while.
“FUHUHUCK YOHOHOU AHAHAHA!” Bakugou guffawed, twisting and turning his body every which way as if he was trying to escape the mirthful torment Kirishima was putting him through. Suddenly, all at once, the tickling stopped, and Bakugou let in a gasp of air he didn’t even realize he needed. He opened his eyes and glared at Kirishima hovering above him, the redhead daunting a sinister grin that made Bakugou’s tummy do summersaults.
“What did you just say to me?” Kirishima questioned menacingly, bringing his free hand up to now hold Bakugou’s wrists in both hands, quickly bringing them both down under his knees with no fight from the blonde, who seemed to be frozen in...fear? Excitement? Either way, his eyes were blown wide, his chest heaving slightly from the attack and small titters still threatening to escape. But Bakugou was never one to back away from a challenge, no matter his condition. He couldn’t help the small twitch at the corners of his lips as he looked up to Kirishima in competition.
“I said: Fuck. You,” Bakugou spat out, and Kirishima could feel his body tense under him after he spoke the fierce words, almost like he was bracing himself for the inevitable. Kirishima shook his head with a grin, raising both his hands up in the air to once again wiggle tauntingly towards his victim.
“Oh, you are so gonna regret that,” Kirishima chuckled, lowering his hands down slowly towards the boy’s quivering belly. His stomach sucked in as if trying to evade the wiggly fingers, Bakugou’s eyes large and never looking away from those claws hovering over his sensitive torso.
Finally, his fingers touched down, skittering over the boy’s lower tummy and making his breath hitch, pursing his lips tightly and slamming his eyes shut at the teasing sensations. Kirishima’s fingers wandered and scribbled all over the boy’s torso, and for a few seconds Bakugou was able to keep his reactions at bay. That is, until Kirishima skittered on a spot right at the base of Bakugou’s ribs, causing the boy to jolt with a small yelp. Kirishima couldn’t contain his chuckle at the reaction.
“Ohoho, there it is,” Kirishima drawled, pinching at the spot that made Bakugou squirm. Bakugou growled, almost like he was trying to keep any cute little giggles to himself, but those incessant pinches just wouldn’t let up, and in seconds time he was a giggling mess under Kirishima’s touch.
“Nohoho! Fuhuhuck shihihit!- AHAHAHAHA NAHAHAHA!” Bakugou practically screamed when he felt Kirishima vibrate his index and middle finger into that spot at his lower ribs right where it meets his back. He arched his spine up, kicking fruitlessly behind Kirishima’s body and cackling like a child all the while. “YOHOHOU BAHAHASTARD! YOHOHOU FUHUHUCKING SHIHIHIT!”
“Well that’s really no way to talk to your best friend, now is it?” Kirishima tsked, clawing at Bakugou’s ribs and eliciting more screeches and cackles from the sensitive teen. “You’re so much more ticklish than I thought you’d be, I am loving this.”
“STAHAHAP SAHAHAYING THAHAHAT!” Bakugou shook his head back and forth, clenching his fists hard under Kirishima’s knees as if trying to keep himself from exploding the both of them both to ashes.
“What? That you’re ticklish?” Kirishima tilted his head with a smirk, pinching up and down the boy’s ribs rapidly, making his laughs soar up in pitch. “Cause, I mean, you are. You’re like, super duper ticklish! But it’s fine cause it’s totally cute,” Kirishima said the last bit without really meaning to, blushing slightly at his blunt statement, but deciding against ending the ticklish torment over it.
“NAHAHAHA! I’M NOHOHOT CUHUHUTE!” Bakugou denied through his cackles, continuing to shake his head in playful anguish. “FUHUHUCK OHOHOHFF!”
“Hmm...I don’t think I will. In fact, there’s a few more tickle spots I wanna try out, so you’re just gonna have to keep a-giggling for me, Bakubro,” Kirishima chuckled, taking his hands off the boy for a moment to give him a breather. Small breathy giggles and titters continued to spill from Bakugou’s lips during his rest, his head leaning back against the pillow in almost exhaustion. Kirishima leaned forward, placing both of his hands beside the boy’s head, leaving his face to hover over the boy’s own blushed one. Bakugou’s eyes widened a bit at the invasion of personal space, but never made an effort to push him off. Kirishima tilted his head like a curious puppy, “You’re okay, right? You don’t like, totally hate this? Cause I can stop if you really want me to.”
Bakugou’s cheeks were splattered pink, his eyes averting their gaze from the boy on top of him. He squirmed a tad under Kirishima’s straddle, shoulders hunching up slightly in embarrassment. “I mean...it’s not...the worst thing in the world…” Bakugou grumbled into his shoulder, eyes still refusing to meet the red-head’s own.
Kirishima grinned down at Bakugou, using one hand to gently cup Bakugou’s chin and turn his head to face his own. “I knew you didn’t hate it. I just wanted you to say it out loud,” he giggled at the blonde’s flustered and shocked expression, before quickly shooting his hands down to squeeze at Bakugou’s ribs with extreme ticklish precision. Bakugou shouted a cackle at the sudden change, his head shaking from side to side and eyes scrunching closed once more.
“OHOHO YOHOHU MOTHERFUHUHUCKER!” Bakugou guffawed, clawing at the sheets under Kirishima’s knees. Kirishima just giggled, working both of his middle fingers in between the tight spot where Bakugou’s arms were clamped against his ribs, digging into the spot just below his underarms that Masaru had told him about.
Bakugou shrieked, kicking harder than before as wave after wave of loud, unfiltered squeals and cackles left his chest.
“SHIHIHIHIT! FUHUHUCK OH MY GAHAHAD! NAHAHAT THEHEHERE! NAHAHAT THAHAHAT SPOHOHOT YOU FUHUHUCK!” He screamed through his laughter, opening an eye to glare at Kirishima through his mirthful tears. Kirishima sported the biggest, shark-toothed grin he could probably muster, and it sent fluttering butterflies throughout the inside of Bakugou’s entire torso.
“Aww, is this spot bad, buddy? This spot tickle?~” Kirishima cooed, his fingers never relenting as they wiggled and dug into that one torutrous little spot that had Bakugou howling.
“FUHUHUCK YOHOHU! YEHEHES! IT T-AHAHA! IT FUHUHUCKING TI-HEHEHE!” Bakugou couldn’t even get the flustering word out through all of his cackles and squeals, which amused Kirishima to no end.
“God how are you so adorable like this,” Kirishima sighed, finally bringing his fingers back down to teasingly scribble and wiggle all over Bakugou’s bare tummy. Bakugou dissolved into a puddle of high-pitched, breathy giggles, that had Kirishima fawning over him in seconds. “You’re so giggly, and I didn’t even know you could giggle before this!”
“Shuhuhut uhuhup!” Bakugou practically whined through his giggles, his cheeks so pink and warm Kirishima could just melt in the cuteness of his flustered face.
“Oooh, I wonder if your belly button is ticklish too,” Kirishima eyed the little navel that bounced through Bakugou’s laughter, one of his fingers travelling over to circle around the button teasingly.
“NO! Nohoho, dohohon’t! Plehehease!” Bakugou pleaded, though Kirishima knew it was all just a front.
“Wow, I’ve got THE Katsuki Bakugou begging right now? Who knew I’d ever see the day!” Kirishima chuckled, worming a teasing nail into the navel and causing Bakugou to shriek and jerk underneath him. “Aww, it’s like a little giggle button!”
“Dohohon’t sahahay that stuhupid shihit!” Bakugou tittered, goosebumps forming all over his tummy from the feather-light way Kirishima scribbled over the skin.
“Alright, oneeee more place I wanna try, then we get back to Minecraft. Deal?” Kirishima moved his fingers to scribble slowly up and down the boy’s sides to let him respond, delighted at the way the movement made him squirm.
“Fihihine, whatehehever,” Bakugou braced himself for the final attack, gasping when he felt Kirishima’s hands leave his sides and rest on the top of his thighs. “Shit, shihit, shit, wahahait-!”
“Oh, this is a good spot, isn’t it?~” Kirishima teased, squeezing the muscle once to see Bakugou jerk and shriek under him. “Yup. Looks like a good one to me.”
“Ohoho plehehease, I cahahan’t, it’s so bahahad-” Bakugou whined, squirming and giggling despite Kirishima’s tickling on his thighs to even start yet.
“You’re a super ticklish guy, Bakugou, but you’re also super tough and manly. I know you can take it!” Kirishima hyped him up with a smile, just making Bakugou groan and roll his eyes with a snicker. “C’mon! Tell me you can take it!”
Bakugou huffed, gazing over at Kirishima’s face that plastered that stupid goofy grin of his. God why does he have to be so cute, Bakugou thought as he sighed with another eye roll.
“Fine, whatever, I can take it, just...fuckin get it over with already, you’re killing me heRE-HRGN! FFFAHAHAHAHA OH SHIHIHIT!” Bakugou keened, cackling and thrashing himself from side to side as both of Kirishima’s hands massaged into his upper thighs. The sensation was torturous, beyond torturous, his nerves were on fire and his muscles were pulsing under those terrible wiggling fingers, but if he could choose it, he’d feel like this forever if it were by the hands of that stupid fucking redhead.
“Damn, this must tickle bad , huh? You’re losing your mind!” Kirishima giggled, squeezing at those sensitive muscles like his life depended on it.
“FUHUHUCK! YEHEHES IT’S SO BAHAHAD! KIRIHIMAHAHAHA! PLEHEHEASE!” Bakugou pleaded and begged, tiny droplets of mirth finally pooling at the corners of his eyes despite his best wishes. Kirishima could tell the blonde was finally reaching his limits, and slowed his fingers down until he was just resting his hands on top of the boy’s thighs comfortingly, rubbing up and down the sides to soothe the still giggling boy.
Kirishima smiled down at Bakugou who was still coming down from his giggle high, titters that could light up a whole room spilling from his lips and making Kirishima’s heart swell. “You alive, man?”
Bakugou coughed out his last giggle, still breathing heavy before giving Kirishima a lazy nod. Kirishima giggled, gently climbing off the boy and laying down beside him on the bed. Bakugou brought his hands up to rub at his still flushed face, and Kirishima couldn’t keep his eyes off of him. The red-head was grinning ear-to-ear, and he could tell that under the palms of those calloused hands covering Bakugou’s face, the blonde was too.
After a few more moments of comfortable silence, Bakugou brought his hands down, turning his head to face Kirishima with a small smile still visible, only on the corners of his lips. “You almost killed me, you bastard.”
“Sorry, you were...you were just really cute like that. I’ve never seen you giggle before,” Kirishima chuckled sheepishly, eyeing Bakugou’s nearly forgotten drink still sitting on the nightstand. He pointed over to it, Bakugou’s following the direction of his finger. “You should probably get a drink, you were laughing pretty hard there.”
Bakugou huffed, his cheeks flushing only slightly at the comment, but he still rolled over to grab the drink and turn back around to face the redhead. “Shut up, I can’t help it.”
“Yeah, I know...too ticklish for your own good, huh?” Kirishima snickered, Bakugou punching his shoulder playfully while taking a sip of his milk. Kirishima rubbed the spot Bakugou punched with a grin. “I’m being serious, though. You really did look cute like that.”
Bakugou’s eyes refused to meet Kirishima’s. His hands cupped tightly around the bottle in his lap, thumbs fiddling with the plastic wrapper encasing it. Kirishima could see how flustered he looked despite their eyes not meeting and he almost felt a little guilty. But Bakugou finally glanced up towards Kirishima, and for the first time ever, the blonde looked...shy. “Do you really think that or are you trying to fuck with me right now? Cause it’s not very nice to fucking flirt with someone if you don’t mean it.”
Kirishima’s eyes widened a little at his bluntness to call it what it was; flirting. “Well, y-yeah. Yeah I meant it. For real,” Kirishima said, but he could tell Bakugou wasn’t sure if he meant it. Kirishima furrowed his brows, cupping Bakugou’s chin gently like he had while attacking the boy just minutes ago, turning his head so their eyes would meet. He stared intently at him, making sure his expression was as genuine as a person could be. “I’m serious, Bakugou. I...I think you’re really attractive,” Kirishima saw how Bakugou’s eyes moved, how he felt frozen under his touch but still somehow looked like he wanted to squirm. “You’re cute and super manly, which I didn’t even know could be a real combination until I met you. You’re...you’re my favorite person, Bakugou.”
They sat like that for a moment. Kirishima brought his hand back down to rest in his own lap, but their eyes never left each other. That was, until, Bakugou’s eyes drifted downward towards Kirishima’s lips. Kirishima’s heart faltered for a minute at the gaze, feeling hair standing up at the back of his neck. Bakugou’s eyes darted back up to Kirishima, a tilt forward in his head that asked Kirishima ‘is this okay?’ Kirishima just nodded with half-lidded eyes, before Bakugou slowly leaned forward, his own eyes closing as their faces finally met in the middle when Kirishima pushed his own head forward.
Their lips brushed shyly against one another, as if cautious and unsure if this was an okay thing to do, before Kirishima pushed into it, forcing their lips together. Bakugou brought a hand up to cup at Kirishima’s cheek, Kirishima doing the same to Bakugou. Bakugou felt like he was going to melt, or explode, or disintegrate or...or just keep kissing Kirishima until he couldn’t breathe.
After what felt like an eternity, they pulled apart, breathless and hazy. Kirishima opened his eyes first, and when Bakugou opened his and looked at Kirishima with those shy little eyes he didn’t have before, Kirishima couldn’t help but dissolve into a fit of giggles. His laugh was always too contagious, damnit, and before he knew it Bakugou was giggling along with him and he didn’t even know why.
When he finally caught his breath, Kirishima slumped back against the pillows of Bakugou’s bed, Bakugou following him to lay there and stare questioningly. “Sorry, sorry, it’s just...you tasted like strawberry milk.”
Bakugou paused for a moment, before chuckling, shoving at Kirishima playfully as they both snickered. “You’re a fucking dork.”
“Hm, maybe,” Kirishima giggled as he brought his face back closer towards Bakugou’s, meeting their lips once again in a soft kiss that lasted forever.
Kirishima would definitely have to thank Mr. Bakugou later for that helpful information about his son, because now their night tasted like strawberry milk and giggles, and Kirishima didn’t want anything else in the entire world than just that.
. . .
A/N : hope you guys enjoyed that, sorry its so fucking long LMAOO i got very carried away. it took me a while to write and ive got a fucking headache so imma go lay down now, MUCH LOVE!! <33
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y0ur-h0nor · 3 years
Text
Sweater in the Snow|| Sbi x reader
>•||Chapter 5||•<
Gender Neutral! Reader
|| Please do not steal my work, I work hard in writing them so I appreciate you do not go around stealing my work and claim it as yours||
A/n: I've been thinking of putting this here that reader has no gender because for the future because I wanna dress reader in dresses :).
It was another day in exile for Tommy as he stays in Logstedshire and doing whatever since he doesn't have much to do in exile but occasionally doing some mining and such getting materials and stuff.
But all if that hard work will be all blown up in the end, quite literally for that fact, Dream comes to visit asking how it's been and then Dream would proceed to go and dig up a hole and Tommy has to basically watch it get blown up.
It's just really getting tiring Tommy has to basically start all over again but he knows it's for his own good and Dream knows what's best for him.
Besides Dream was much nicer to him and he could actually consider the man as his friend.
Dream was about to leave before a shout was heard, he turns around and he sees that Y/n is back to play with Tommy, They run over to him to tackle him in a hug as they smile up at him.
'I missed you Tommy!' they say burying their head in his shirt, Tommy puts a hand to their head smiling down at them.
Dream walks over to the pair and greets the child, 'Hello Y/n.' Tommy turns to Dream to look at him and Y/n looks behind Tommy and look up to see the green hooded man, '...Hello Dream.' they say shyly.
He chuckles and ruffles their hair, they close their eyes and open them again when Dream stops, 'Well, Tommy I'll be taking my leave then.' Tommy let's out a bye.
The two watch Dream's retreating form and they turn to walk over to the place where they often eat snacks together.
As they sat down, Y/n put down their backpack and got out the snacks and drinks Y/n had brought along that Kristin made for the two.
Today, Y/n wore this cute little button up and neatly brushed their (h/c) hair and had some clips in their, and a little braid in their hair.
Y/n had gotten really comfortable with their self and started wearing different stuff other than sweaters and dress them up, from sailor shirt and along with cute shorts and a hat from a cute dress and ribbons in their hair.
You could say their spoiled of some sort but their just living their life, Y/n also had sneaked in Strawberry milk, so they gave Tommy one and opened theirs, they knew Tommy hadn't been eating much from his thin looks so they brought food everytime they visit him to at least help him have food in him and not be malnourished but they could only be able to get him snacks like biscuits and sandwiches.
But since Y/n is not entirely human they don't need to eat a lot so they offer Tommy the biscuits more and do small talk to distract him.
Y/n also doesn't forget to bring some snacks for Ghostbur when he's with Tommy in Logstedshire.
Y/n didn't like how different Tommy was when he was around Dream, the first time they've met Dream Tommy was different with some sort of remorse towards him but now Tommy saw Dream more as a friend, Y/n didn't know what this meant but if Dream was a friend to Tommy then he was a friend to him.
Remembering something they told Tommy they had something for him, Tommy looked at the child confused as he munched on the treats they brought over, taking out the item from their bag they showed Tommy with pride the thing they made, Tommy's eyes widened as he stared at the two matching necklaces, he took them in his hands carefully to look at it.
It was a matching necklaces that if you brought them together they'd connect together, it was pretty too it was an/a (Chosen necklace charm ) adorned with a silver/golden chain.
He put it back in their arms and they took them apart and gave him the other half of the necklace, they went to unclasp it and put it on, 'It's for the two of us to wear!' they say smiling at him as they fix the necklace before letting it settle around their neck.
Tommy looked down at his half of the necklace as his vision started getting blurry, he didn't even notice he had started crying when tears started falling onto his palm, Y/n widened their eyes when Tommy had started crying going over to him, 'You don't like it? I could take it back!' they said worried not wanting to see Tommy cry.
He wiped his tears with his jacket sleeve and sniffled he smiled as he turned to look at them, he shook his head 'No, I love it, it just reminded me of someone.' he said solemnly looking down at the jewelry.
The child looked at the teen with a saddened expression, they just shifted in their spot and laid their head on Tommy's shoulder, sighing they looked up at the sky.
The two finished up their snack and packed up, Tommy was going through his stuff to get some iron to make another axe, he let out a frustrated sound at the realization he didn't have quiet enough the amount he needed so he went to his other chest to grab his pickaxe to mine for some iron, Y/n who had been sitting on his bed watched as Tommy grabbed some stuff 'What are you doing TomTom?' they ask.
'I'm going to go mining for some more iron since I don't have enough for another axe.' he says rummaging through his chests and going over to the crafting table to craft some more torches, Y/n gripped their backpack and furrowed their eyebrows, but his axe was perfectly fine though?, turning their gaze from the floor to Tommy,  'But Tommy, your axe was fine though, what happened?' without thinking Tommy says 'Well Dream blew up all the stuff I got so I guess I have to start all over again' he says grabbing a bread from in his chest.
'What?'
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1k words.
OMG YOU GUYS ARE ABSOLUTE CRAZY, THE WATTPAD BOOK JUST HIT 400 READS AND I'M TEARING UP.
To be honest, this book has got to be a proud work of mine and I'm happy I'm still able to publish because I have trouble with staying in one project.
Anyways, please don't kill me for this cliffhanger, I swear things are going on fast but anyways, possibly more characters will be introduced next chapter!.
Taglist (Tell me if you want to be added.)
@woman-soot @insanitybuff @v10dw4lk3r @been0va
@luluwinchester
edit: reader dying pog?
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idreamofplaid · 3 years
Text
Whiskey and a Cabin
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Square Filled: Skinny Dipping for @spnkinkbingo; Free Space for @spnfluffbingo; In Vino Veritas for @spndeanbingo
Characters: Dean x Reader; Sam mentioned
Rating: Explicit
Summary: The right mood, the right place, the right woman, and some whiskey help Dean realize the truth about what he wants. 
Word Count: 3628
A/N: It took me weeks to deliver the fluffy Dean smut I promised to everyone who voted for it. Life intervened. My muse left, and then she returned. So, here it is.
Whiskey is not my friend. I mean, yeah it’s gotten me through some tough spots. Hell trauma, an apocalypse or two, and boatloads of guilt. But last night, it turned on me.
This wasn’t the first time you helped Sam and me on a case. You’re the best damn psychic I’ve ever seen, even better than Pamela. You’d think I’d learn after what happened to her, but there’s no denying your kind of skills are helpful.
It was just a celebration of the end of another case and everybody still alive. That’s all. A few beers that turned into a few shots. Sam bowed out, like he usually does, after a couple of drinks. I should have known when I gave him the car keys, and sent him back to the motel, that I’d wake up in your bed. Hell, who am I fucking kidding? I did know. I knew, and it’s exactly what I wanted. 
This is the hard part. It’s time to leave town, and I don’t know when I’ll see you again. This could have happened before. I’m surprised it didn’t. Well, I’m surprised I didn’t try. I’ve gotten hard more than once watching you move, and thinking about the way you moved with me last night is making me hard again. 
I can’t do this. I can’t think about wanting to see you again. I can’t think about those sounds you made while I was buried deep inside you, and your body was tightening around my cock milking every single drop out of it. 
I stuff my hands in my pockets, and my fingers hit my cell phone. Damn it. I at least want to hear you again, maybe set something up for the next time I’m in town. I scroll through my list of contacts and stop when I get to your name. My thumb hovers over it, and I remember the way your hair smells like strawberries and flowers. I tap the phone against my forehead a couple of times. 
What the hell am I doing? My life is on the road with Sam killing monsters. There’s no room in that for a girlfriend. What woman in her right mind would sign up for that? I fling my cell phone on the bed and get up to finish packing. 
I’m shoving my shaving kit into my duffle when there’s a knock at the door. I zip my bag up, roll my eyes, and head for the door. “C’mon, man, you gotta do better than this. You’re slippin’ Sa…”
My mouth probably fell open. I’m pretty sure it did. It’s not my brother standing there; it’s you, and you walked into the room like you belonged there, like you’d been invited. I mean I would have asked you in, but….you were already there.
“Don’t look so surprised, Dean.” You got right up next to me, so close I could smell the sweet fragrance of your skin.
I watched you run your fingers straight up the center of my chest and play with the top button on my shirt before you let it go and dropped your hand. “Did you think I was just going to let you leave without even a good-bye after last night? And I know you would have. Don’t try to deny it. I’ve known you too long.”
I didn’t know what to say. Words usually just roll out of my mouth around women. Sometimes it’s too easy, but I had no idea what the hell to say to you. I couldn’t just stand there looking like an idiot though. I didn’t want you to think I was dumb.
I ran my hand through the hair at the back of my neck. “I wasn’t gonna just...leave. I was about to call you.” You smiled at me, nodding your head in that silent “Uh, huh. Right.” kinda way. “I was, Y/N..because I want to see you again.”
You sat down on the bed next to my duffle, looked at it and ran your hand over the canvas. When you turned back to look at me again, you had that irresistible flirty smile on your face. “Are you saying that because I took advantage of you last night, Dean?”
I swear I felt the beginning of a blush making my cheeks warm. “You...you didn’t…’take advantage’ of me, Y/N.” If there was anything left that I could have pretended to pack, I would have, just to give my hands something to do, but you were too close to the bag.
Last night was a little hazy, but I remembered all of it. I could pretend I didn’t remember, but I doubt you’d let me get away with that, and I don’t want to. I don’t want to pretend that things weren’t the way they were between us, like I wasn’t the happiest I’ve been in a long time. Maybe it was the happiest I’ve been ever.
There was no flame burning in the fireplace, but the logs were still there. We were deep enough into spring that it wasn’t cold enough for a fire anymore, but it was still nice sitting on the floor in front of it with you. The logs might not be burning,  but I could smell the earthiness of the hickory. I liked it. It made this place you’ve created for yourself seem even more like a home somehow.
You poured more whiskey into my glass, and the bottle clinked when it touched the rim. The sound seemed almost festive, if those kinds of things happened in my life. For me, it was a little sad. It reminded me I didn’t have moments like that, couldn’t have them.
I let my mind wander for a second, longer than I should have. You looked so pretty sitting there on that rug that I know you picked out special just for this spot, just so the floor wouldn’t be bare. Uncovered floors felt temporary. They were as is. Nothing about them said “I’m going to stay here. This is my home.”
Being in a place that felt like this, like it had some roots, and being here with you, was making me feel things I usually kept buried deeper than the bones in the graves me and Sam dug up, but I couldn’t salt and burn this feeling away.
I should have stopped drinking, but it felt so good being here with you. It felt comfortable, and all those things together were enough to get me to start talking. You asked an open ended question, the kind I usually deflect in a heartbeat, but I didn’t this time.
“What are you thinking, Dean?” I watched your lips close around your glass as you took another sip of your whiskey. It was the Crown Royal kind you like with some flavor in it, but I didn’t even care that it was something I’d never drink, and why do I remember the kind of whiskey you like?
“Dean?” You were smiling at me and I was way too lost in this moment for my own good. “I asked you what you’re thinking”
I smiled back at you. It felt good to be smiling, for real, not pretending to be okay or trying to be funny to make myself think I was okay. This really felt good. “This is nice.”
It wasn’t the most original thing I’d ever said, but it was true. The next thing I said was better. It was so much better. I opened up that vault inside me where I keep my more complicated life feelings locked up and let them pour out.
“You’ve really made something for yourself here, Y/N. It’s the kind of place a  guy could picture himself staying for awhile.” You didn’t say anything. If you had, that might have stopped my grand confession, but you didn’t; and I kept going.
“I think about being somewhere like this, a lot.  I think about having a home and somebody to share it with. Somebody like you.” My eyes found yours, and for the first time I noticed just how pretty they are. I mean, I knew. You’re a beautiful woman, but I don’t think I’d ever seen you before like this. You weren’t just a potential one night thing, or at best a string of nights. 
I’d never thought before about waking up beside you for something really wild, like a whole week, because I was never anywhere long enough for that, much less something, permanent. And I knew, even though I never admitted it, that permanent was something I wanted. It was something I wanted, and right now you were making me ache for it.
You put down your glass and scooted closer to me. The way you were biting yur bottom lip made me want to taste it.
I tasted your lips last night and most of the rest of your body too. The memory of just how sweet you are is still on my tongue if I think about it, and it makes my mouth water wanting more of you.
I swear you can read my mind. That look in your eye, it’s like you know what I’m thinking. Not that it’s all that hard to figure out. I hope you’re remembering last night the way I do.
You lean over to the nightstand between the two beds, open the drawer, and pull out the motel’s notepad along with the pen they provided. Then you start to write something on the top sheet. That’s one of the things about you that makes me absolutely crave you; I never know what you’re going to do next.
I move a little closer, trying to see what you’re writing. Finally, I give up and ask, “Who’s the note for?”
You keep on writing while you answer me. “It’s for Sam, so he knows I’ve taken his brother for a couple of days.”
When you finish writing, you hold the pen and notepad out to me. “Now, tell him you’ll see him back at the bunker.”
I look at the page and what you’d written there. “Sam, Dean’s going to be staying with me for the weekend. Don’t worry. He’ll be well taken care of.” Y/N.
That last sentence was making my cock twitch. I took the pen and wrote: See you back at the bunker, Sammy.
You tore the sheet off the pad of paper and put it on top of the table where Sam would be sure to see it. We both knew it was rare for my little brother to miss anything. I stood there not moving, a little in disbelief about what was happening.
The smile on your face was indulgent and a little amused. You were enjoying this, enjoying me not quite knowing what to do. You closed your hand around my chin, fingers on each side of my face, and kissed me. I could still feel the warmth of your mouth on mine after you pulled away.
You gave my ass a pat as you walked by me on your way to the door and said, “C’mon, lover, I’ve got plans for you.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Your house is off the main road, surrounded by trees with a lake out back. It’s a cabin, but not like any cabin I’ve ever been in before. You’ve got a real kitchen with real cabinets, instead of rough shelves some hunter nailed to the wall just to be functional. There’s a place to eat in the kitchen too. As in, there’s an actual table where you have home cooked meals, instead of something just dumped out of a can.
Your bed is like a dream. You don’t sleep on cheap motel sheets that can be more accurately described using the word threadbare than thread count. Add you, naked and beautiful, to the mix; and it’s better than a dream.
I’m still lost in memories and possibilities of what we could have here together when you walk up behind me, put your arms around me, and rest your hands flat on my chest. I feel you lay your cheek against my back for a few seconds before you turn your head and put a kiss on my shoulder blade.
I turn in your arms and pull you up against me; it feels like you’re even closer than when you were behind me. Maybe because my cock is more than a little interested in resuming last night’s activities when it’s pushed into you like this. I lean down to kiss you, knowing exactly where I want this to go.
The way you kiss me is warm and soft, but there’s fire behind it. You’re everything I want, even the things I don’t let myself think about. Sex is the easy part, but you make me feel. You make me want to hold you always, and that’s a dangerous thought.
You’re the first to break the kiss and take my hand in yours. “C’mon, Dean. I didn’t get to show you the deck last night.”
I follow you outside, and the view out there is unbelievable. It’s hard to believe you live here; you get to see this every day. This is your life.
Your hand is still in mine, and I can picture us sitting there on your deck, sipping a couple of beers and watching the sun go down. Something else is on your mind though, and I don’t have the first objection to that.
You push my flannel back off my shoulders and drag it down my arms. It falls to the wooden floor behind me. You’re looking me up and down, making a big show of licking your lips.
“You’re wearing too many clothes, Dean.” You pull at the front of my t-shirt, and I get the hint. I strip out of it, and you make a point of running your eyes over my naked chest. “Still too many clothes.” You say it with a certain gleam in your eye that I’ve seen there before.
I look around, feeling self conscious, like I’m expecting people to appear out of the trees. There’s nothing but pines and water. This is a private show.
I take off everything I’m wearing until there’s not a stitch left on my body. You run your hand down my side. As it gets lower, you move it around to my back so you can cup my ass and squeeze.
My body likes that. It likes that a lot. “Are we going to do this right here?” I ask you.
“Yes, Dean, we absolutely are.” You bite your bottom lip. You’re being all flirty and seductive with me, and I love it. Your teeth let go of your lip, and your tease your fingertips across my chest. “Just not yet,” you say.
I watch you taking your clothes off while my cock gets harder. You’re going to make me wait, and that’s hot. I’ll wait to come for you. I can’t believe I just said that, even in my own head.
You take my hand and lead me down the wooden steps of the deck. When my toes hit the grass, it feels good; but not as good as you look. Your hips curve just right, and your ass is so full and round; I can’t wait to get my hands on it. The way you walk, almost like you’re drifting over the ground, is so graceful. Fuck, but you are beautiful.
Just watching you has made me completely hard by the time we get to the lake, and I follow you into the water. It’s warm enough that my dick and my balls stay full and heavy. When we’ve reached a place where the water is up to my chest and lapping at my nipples, making them hard too, you stop and turn to me. 
The water has completely covered your breasts so I can’t see them anymore, but I can feel them. I cup them in my hands below the waterline and flick my thumbs over your nipples. The sound that comes out of you is breathy, needy, and one of the sexiest things I’ve ever heard. It makes my dick bob in the water.
“Kiss me, Dean.” You say it through those beautiful hot moaning sounds you’re making. I wouldn’t deny you anything, and this is such an easy thing to give you. I want you so bad right now. There’s nothing but the feel of you in my arms as my lips close over yours, and the warmth of the sunshine on my shoulders.
The taste of your tongue is sweet on mine, and the deeper the kiss goes, the more I want you. You jump up and wrap your legs around my waist, and I grab your ass with both hands to hold you up. Your kisses are getting more intense, and I want you so much now, my cock is throbbing. I’m sure I’m leaking a steady stream of pre come, but it’s impossible to tell. You grind your hips against my aching cock, and I let out a groan louder than I meant to, but who’s going to hear us? We can make all the noise we want.
You’re kissing along my jaw and squeezing your thighs around me. “Take me, Dean. Right here. Need to feel you inside me, stretching me open.”
“Baby girl, you’re gonna make me crazy if you talk like that.” I’m almost gasping for breath at this point, at least if feels that way.
“Then stop talking,” you tell me. “Fuck me right now. Here. Under the sky with nature as our witness. Do it, Dean.”
I lift you up higher; you take my cock in you hand and position me at your entrance. Then I lower you down onto me. You’re so tight and feel so good I could almost cry from the relief and rightness of it.
I’m lifting you up and down, helping you ride my cock, while the water sloshes around us. You reach down between our bodies to stroke your clit and throw your head back, urging me on the closer you get to coming. “More, Dean. Harder.”
For once, I’m glad Sam nagged me about using the gym in the bunker. “We have it” he kept saying. Right now, I’m damn glad I wandered in there on a few occasions. I need all the balance skills I have to navigate the uneven bottom of the lake while I thrust up into you for all I’m worth.
Your pussy is grasping at my cock, choking it, challenging me to last a second longer. I will because you’re gonna come all over me before I let myself go. When I feel your walls start to clench around me and your nails start to tear at my back, I know I’ve got you.
“That’s it, baby. Mark me. Show me how good it feels.” I drag across your sweet spot and push into you as deep as I can. Your body shakes in my arms when you come.
The sound of you saying my name while you come undone is more than I can take. I fill you up, shooting my load inside you; and when I’m done, I drop my head onto your shoulder. “Y/N...that...you...are incredible.” I’m talking into your skin because I haven’t raised my head yet.
Time passes, I don’t know how long, with us wrapped around each other just like that. The next thing I’m aware of is your fingers combing through my hair. Ilift my head to kiss you again, and I can feel something shift inside me. It clicks into place.
Everything I said last night is the total truth, but there isn’t a drop of whiskey in me now. I could stay here with you, want to stay here with you. With that thought in my head, I walk out of the lake carrying you all the way back to the deck.
When we get there, I notice the folded up quilt and the pillows stacked beneath one of the windows. You had this planned all along. “Can you stand, sweetheart?”
Your head has been laying on my shoulder, and you turn it to kiss me right beside my neck. “I can make it,” you answer softly. 
My body has been separated from yours for awhile now, but when I put you down to spread out the quilt and pillows; I feel the loss of that contact in my gut. I need to hold you again.
I get things set up as fast as I can, sit down on the quilt, and pull you down with me. You lay back and put your head on a pillow first, and I can only hope you’re as eager as I am to feel our bodies wrapped around each other again.
It’s probably been less than two minutes since I let go of you, but that still seems like too long when I take you into my arms again. For a little while, my life is perfect. The warm sun overhead dries our skin while I run my fingers lightly up and down your back. Your head is on my chest where it belongs, and a bird singing is the only sound. I want to freeze this moment forever.
“Dean?” I kiss the top of your head.
“Yes, baby.” My fingers are still moving on your back while I wait for you to ask your question. “Do you think Sam would be okay in the bunker by himself for the next week?”
I feel a big smile spread across my face. “Oh, I know he will.” This is definitely the start of something. 
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Dean/Jensen: @deansyahtzee @flamencodiva @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @focusonspn @akshi8278 @ladywinchester1967 @sgarrett49 @wingedcatninja @coffee-obsessed-writer @adoptdontshoppets @ellewritesfix05 @weepingwillowphoenix
Voters: @just-call-me-kim @siospins @jamzm @deandaydreaming​
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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years
Text
I can't imagine my life without you
Day 13, Story #1 is by @cheesyficwriter
Title: I can’t imagine my life without you 
Author: cheesyficwriter
Pairing: Ron/Hermione
Prompt: Song fic (lyric prompt), “Imagine” by Ben Platt
Rating: T
Trigger Warnings: Mentions of postpartum depression
I can’t imagine my life without you
It’s a day like no other, leaving Hermione wishing it could be over. 
The transition back to work at the Ministry full-time after giving birth to little Rosie presents more challenges than anticipated. Each day, she chips a fraction away at her massive to-do list, endless amounts of paperwork and research for upcoming trials, leaving her only mildly satisfied with what she’s accomplished. 
In reality, Hermione is aware that it’s in her nature to obsess over all aspects of her work that could go wrong. She always prides herself on her professionalism and now struggles with maintaining the work-life balance necessary for a new mum. 
Most days, she arrives at the Ministry too tired to think straight. The hours are long, and as someone running on frequent nights with minimal sleep, it’s difficult for Hermione to be as productive as she used to be in the department. 
Rosie is a fussy baby, and the hours not spent at work are spent fighting for ways to keep her calm — holding her, rocking, changing her nappy, feeding, entertaining. It’s unnatural for Hermione to feel like she has no clue what she’s doing, and that realization is frightening for a first-time parent.  
Ron is a doting father, who seems to be having a much simpler time adjusting to the new addition to the family. He approaches parenting with natural ease. As soon as Ron picks Rosie up, she stops crying. If Ron walks into the room, a smile lights up their daughter’s face. He brings joy into her world, leaving Hermione with an overwhelming feeling of uncertainty if she is cut out for her new role as a mother. 
Although Hermione tries to throw herself back into work to escape her struggles in her home life, the exhaustion takes a toll on her, resulting in far more emotional outbursts than deemed appropriate at work. 
It isn’t easy to remain patient when challenges seem insurmountable, goals unattainable, and negative thoughts creep in to seep the joy out of her day. 
As Hermione walks through the floo network to head home for the evening, she mentally prepares herself for the madness that she is certain she will walk into, if every other evening that same week is any indication. 
For the first time in weeks, Hermione doesn’t arrive home to a crying baby. In fact, the stunning silence brings a wave of panic, prompting Hermione to withdraw her wand and call out,
“Ron?“ 
Soft, melodic music floats through the room, and Hermione begins walking towards the source as she listens for the lyrics. 
Your eyes give life a new meaning
It’s like I found the North Lights
I never knew what I needed
Until I felt your hand holding mine
The sight Hermione uncovers has her at a standstill in the doorway of the kitchen. 
There is a self-stirring saucepan on the stove and several knives chopping potatoes. The sink overflows with bubbles, piles of dirty dishes sticking out from underneath the suds. 
Ron is there in the center of the room, cradling Rosie in his arms. He has a flannel thrown over his shoulder and a dummy in his hand as he bounces their cooing daughter.
A flat disc spirals on the gramophone in the corner of the room, the sound coming from it reverberating off the walls. 
Yeah, you say I’m your hero
But you are the one that saved me
If I ever lost you
I’d fall to my knees
Hermione leans against the door frame, her heart swelling with great love for her little family. She watches as Ron twirls around the room with a squealing Rose, and he’s dancing with a rhythm that she didn’t know he possessed. 
Covering her mouth with one hand, Hermione stifles a giggle, thinking back to a younger Ron and his clunky two left feet when they danced together at Bill and Fleur’s wedding. He was so nervous then — they both were — and she marvels at how far they’ve come. 
Dancing is about letting go and being free. When nothing else works — as Hermione suspects is the case with Rosie, who has quite the set of lungs on her — turning on music seems to do the trick. 
I can’t imagine my life without you
I can’t imagine one night without you
Seeing her family in the kitchen does wonders to lift Hermione’s mood, and it’s as if all of the stress and negativity just melt away. All she can see is her husband and daughter, and Hermione becomes conscious of the heart beating inside her chest in time with the steady rhythm of the music. 
She’s torn between laughing, and crying, and bouncing along, and crying some more. Sometimes the best surprises can change the entire tone of a single day from the simplest of tasks. 
In the Granger-Weasley household, dancing is their reset button. 
If something happened, don’t know what I’d do
I can’t imagine, I can’t imagine my life without you
Ron has his back towards Hermione, slowly rocking Rosie from side to side with one hand while flourishing his wand towards the plates to start setting the supper table for three. 
“What d'ya say, Rosie?” Ron murmurs before plopping a kiss on his daughter’s cheek. “Shall we tell your mum to stop gawking at us and come join us?”
Your eyes give life a new meaning
It’s like I found the North Lights
Oh, I never knew what I needed
Until I felt your hand holding mine
Hermione gasps as Ron pivots around, meeting her gaze with a lazy grin and a wink. 
Rosie squirms in Ron’s arms, and she’s reaching towards her mother with glee. 
With a shaky breath, Hermione walks forward to take hold of her daughter, who rests her little head on Hermione’s shoulder. 
“She’s missed her mummy today,” Ron comments as he leans over Rose’s head of ginger hair to press a soft kiss to Hermione’s temple. 
“Mmm.” Hermione’s eyelids droop to a close. “Is she the only one?“ 
“Not a chance, Granger.” Ron brushes a hand down her cheek, making her eyelids flutter open. He’s studying her like he has a window into her soul, and it’s as if all of the emotions she’s felt throughout the day are now on full display for him to see. 
Ron always does have the impeccable ability to get her, particularly when she’s stressed beyond belief. 
“Bad day, love?" 
"Better now,” Hermione replies, burying her nose into the small patch of curls on Rose’s head, inhaling the sweet scent of fresh strawberries and warm milk. A smell that is so wonderfully baby. 
Her baby. 
Yeah, you say I’m your hero
But you are the one that saved me
If I ever lost you
I’d fall to my knees
When Hermione first arrived back at their cottage for the evening, all she wanted to do was fall underneath the covers and wallow. It could’ve been easy for her to fall into a looping pattern of self-pity.  
Seeing her family provides a sense of calm in the natural ebb and flow of life. However big or small, bad days are only temporary. 
Now, standing with the two most important people in her life, she’s filled with a sense of gratitude for their constant presence. Thanks to them, she knows what it means to be happy and to see the beauty in tough moments. 
I can’t imagine my life without you
I can’t imagine one night without you
If something happened, don’t know what I’d do
I can’t imagine, I can’t imagine my life without you
“It’s okay, love.” Ron cradles her cheek with one hand, a gesture that he knows always calms her. “It’s okay to let it all go.”
He rests his forehead to hers, and they slowly start to sway together along to the gentle rhythm of the song playing in the background. Rose squeals from the space between her parents’ bodies, reminding them of her presence. Both Ron and Hermione chuckle, planting matching kisses on both sides of their daughter’s cheeks. 
A wide grin spreads across Hermione’s face, and a familiar set of words filter into her thoughts: Happiness can be found in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light. Fond memories flashing through her mind of Professor Dumbledore — long white beard, spectacles, and all. 
It’s easy to lose sight of what’s most important when drowning in negativity. Dancing provides an opportunity for her to slow her thoughts down and root herself in the present. 
Her family is the source of light in her darkest times. 
I can’t imagine my life without you
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admiringlove · 3 years
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[ii] scents, coffee and turtlenecks
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+synopsis: hq boys and their scent, their coffee order and the turtlenecks they wear.
+genre: fluff lol; headcanons.
+characters: kageyama tobio, oikawa tōru, suna rintarō, miya osamu.
+warnings: literally just fluff man, unless you cry because of cute stuff.
+order: hi!! i saw that suggestions are open and i was wondering if you could do more of the scent coffee turtlenecks? they were really fun and comforting to read. they got me through a tough situation, so thank you! i hope you keep writing and keep growing <33 [by anonymous]
+author’s notes: hi anon! funnily enough, i had written some part of this and it was sitting in my drafts halfway done, but your ask helped me get through the rest of it. hope you like it, love. here’s part one!
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— KAGEYAMA TOBIO.
his scent is calming. it’s strawberries and mint, and it refreshes you. it’s funny really, the way his favorite flavor of milk is strawberry and how he actually smells like the fruit. whenever you embrace him warmly, a cooling feeling washes over you—it feels like a day off. when you’re overworked and you need time to spend with self-care? yeah, tobio reminds you of that. he’s constantly telling you to take care of yourself more too(which is the irony in this situation). you feel a small pinch in your heart whenever he lets go of you(if he goes out of town for matches or gets up from cuddling). if he’s leaving the city for work, you’d shed a tear, telling him you’d miss him. and when you’d come back home, you’d wear any of his clothing. because kageyama reminds you of a calm afternoon, filled with the scent of strawberries and the alleviating agent like mint. 
he does not order coffee. definitely the type of person to go to the vending machine to buy flavored milk instead of getting coffee. he thinks coffee shops are a waste of time. why would someone pay ten extra bucks for average coffee when you can just get sweet milk from the vending machine? you definitely bully him for this(just point and laugh, [y/n]. point and laugh). he’d get all flustered and yell at you, but then he’d end up hiding his face on a pillow or something. you’d go up to him and hug him, which would lead up to kageyama asking you, “so... the next time you get coffee, i’ll just wait outside, okay?”. you laugh at him again, telling him that he didn’t have to wait outside, but then he retorts with how the barista looks at him weirdly after he asked her if they sold flavored milk. 
kageyama likes wearing a fixed set of colors. he’s not the type of person to go out of the ordinary and wear some absurd color like neon-green, but something like different shades of blue. he definitely doesn’t have two same colored shirts—even if they are, they’re in different shades. he mostly wears blue and black turtlenecks, but he doesn’t mind trying whites or greys either. he does blush every time you compliment him though, so maybe dial it down a little or he’ll combust(you don’t have to, you can just watch his brain go haywire then kiss his forehead to make him go redder than before).
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— OIKAWA TŌRU
his scent is so sweet, it’s addicting. it’s either something floral like rose or lavender. or sometimes he’d go with the plain old smoked vanilla. his hugs are the best, really. they’re filled with the sweet aroma circling around the two of you as you inhale his scent. he’d stroke your hair as you hum against him in contentment, saying, “like the cologne, [y/n]-chan?”. you’d tease him, telling him he smelled like an eleven-year-old girl and he’d reply with, “hey! at least eleven-year-old girls know what they’re doing!”.
he does not like coffee. will straight up go to the barista and order the sweetest drink on the menu. this boy just does not do well with the bitterness of coffee. he doesn’t like it, and he’s in shock by how you can drink it so easily. “[y/n]-chan, how are you doing that?!”, he’d exclaim. you’d raise an eyebrow, asking him, “doing what, bub?”. although he really wants to melt at the nickname, he’d say, “that bitter monstrosity!”. this conversation leads nowhere except laughter and jokes, really. some teasing comments are thrown here and there; some criticizing oikawa for having such low tolerance for bitterness, and some at you for what an utter abomination you are for drinking coffee. tie the bow on the gift-box with a small teasing kiss and dancing in the kitchen without music at seven in the morning, because oikawa felt like it. your relationship is like the marriage of bitterness and sweetness—somewhere close to perfect.
he can wear anything and still look good. has a wide variety of turtlenecks—and he’ll definitely wear them according to his mood for the day. although most of the colors are on the lighter side, he has a few blacks in the mix as well. he likes the pastel-blue one the most(because, according to him, “blue is just my color, [y/n]-chan!”). he has the tendency to match with you. loves buying you the same shirts as him, because he thinks it’s adorable when you walk around with him and match his clothing. basks in the glory of when people look and compliment the two of you, and you blush(he thinks you’re cute, okay?). 
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— SUNA RINTARŌ
suna definitely smells like cigarettes and lime basil. he doesn’t smoke often, it’s just the scented candles he buys online(he thinks it’s funny because the candles are cigarette-scented). you often tell him he stinks, but he knows you’re only poking around. he knows you love the scent he gives off when you hold on to him just a little tighter, just a little longer, just a little closer. the kisses linger for a smidge longer, and he knows. he knows you love his scent and he knows you love him. he’s not cocky about it until you tease him though, because if you do say he stinks, he’ll pull you into a passionate kiss(and obviously, you don’t pull away). after he breaks the kiss, he’d say, “if i really do stink, you wouldn’t be sticking to me like glue.”
his coffee is either completely black, or just a normal latte. he doesn’t like really milky, or sweet coffee. also most definitely just uses coffee as a way to stay up(suna likes nights more than days). he likes staying up late with you, doing homework or anything really, until you’re dozing off next to him and he’s left in comfortable silence. he’ll run his hands through your hair, his slow breathing silent and his sharp eyes softened just by looking at you. he likes coffee. he really does. he likes coffee because it helps him stay awake and watch you peacefully. he falls asleep by four in the morning, and now it’s your turn to watch suna sleep. you make him a mug of coffee and breakfast. it’s a leisure-filled morning, and rin loves every part of it. he won’t tell you he does though, because you already know. and he knows you do.
suna rintarō in turtlenecks is a sight for sore eyes. he has a lot of greens, blacks, and greys. his style is to effortlessly look good, so he doesn’t actually care about what he wears unless it’s to impress someone(*cough* you) or for work. if he doesn’t have the energy to do something that’s eye-catching, he’ll just wear a turtleneck and pair it with plaid pants to call it a day. man still gets stares from people because of how effortlessly cool he is. he’s not even trying, which is the best part. he looks so good(cue you drooling in the background because suna in a black turtleneck and green plaid pants is just wow). and if he’s actually putting in effort for a date or something, he goes all the way with the accessories. rings, necklaces, maybe even wears his reading glasses because they look good with his overcoat. olive green turtleneck and white dickies would definitely suit him. after all, he wants to look the best for you. 
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— MIYA OSAMU. 
he has one of the most comforting, woody scents ever. he has two bottles—one vetiver(it gives a smoky scent and he usually wears it to work) and one patchouli(more woodland-ish kind of scent. he wears it when he’s going out with you or on special occasions). you love the way he smells, because honestly, the most comforting time of the day is when he comes back home, and the first thing you do is hug him. you’ll take the dinner he made for the two of you at the restaurant and set it up as he changes and freshens up. his aroma overcomes you as the two of you sit down an talk about your day through the meal. his tired grin and you small giggles enough to make you feel content. and man, he’s the best to cuddle with as you sleep. he smells so good, it’s kind of scary. in the mornings, it’s almost hard to let go of him so you can get to work.  
okay, we all know osamu is a sucker for food. but he’s also a pain in the ass when the two of you go to coffee shops. orders something fancy like café au lait, then continues to complain about how this particular coffee shop didn’t do the french drink justice. all the while, you’re just listening to him criticize the place(but you still love him, because he looks cute talking about the things he loves). you’ll leave the shop after an hour or so, and then just settle for a bowl of ramen from a small diner by your apartment because that seems to be the only thing that gets osamu off his high horse. by the end of the night, you’d tell him to quit acting like gordon ramsey. he’d retort by telling you that you would obviously prefer his food over gordon ramsey’s anyday(i mean, you can’t disagree with that. even if you tell him he’s being dumb, you know he’s right on the inside. osamu basically is a wizard with food).
osamu likes grey and black, and that’s about it. he’d try more stuff if you make him though. gets annoyed at the mall because you’re just picking out different colors for him to try and he’s just standing off to the side holding like ten different articles of clothing. he looks amazing in a chartreuse-green if you get him to wear it(will like how it look on his abs, he doesn’t tell you though). every canonical color suits him to be honest, just don’t go overboard with the neons or purples. he likes to keep it simple with the dark colors(black turtleneck osamu is a looker). and he definitely becomes all blushie-blushie if you tell him he looks pretty. looks away and puts his hand over his mouth a little(you should definitely take a picture of this, it looks so wrong and suggestive but it’s just him being a blushing mess). please, just hug him or something. 
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whump-town · 3 years
Text
Stubborn
Everybody taking care of old Hotch because... I don't like it when old Hotch gets left to just die on his own :( don't ask why that's where I draw the line
No pairings
No warnings
In Jack’s second semester of his junior year, Hotch collapses again. He’s home this time, out in his garden under the glaring sun. The day had begun no different than any other. The birds on the powerline chirping and causing their disturbances, as eager for the day to begin as the school-aged children shouting in the street. He’d watched them from the sliding glass door facing the street, his tea warm in his hands. He’d waved at a few, the older ones who recognize him as a mystifying adult with stories to be unlocked. The younger children give him a face akin to a monster’s, his mystery horrifying in their already confusing enough lives.
It’s an hour before lunch. Two hours before Spencer shows up because it’s Thursday and he teaches a class on this side of town every Tuesday and Thursday at 2. One that he occasionally asks Hotch to attend -- as a guest lecturer, as a treat to his students, or just for the company.
He could call just about anyone.
Emily’s downtown, on her way back from a meeting with the Department of Justice. She’d be thrilled for an excuse to not go back to the office and spend an hour or two in his kitchen telling him about those pretentious assholes.
Garcia’s about ten minutes away, working at a nonprofit teaching “at-risk” kids how to code. Being the guiding hand she’d needed as a teenager so that they might not repeat the same mistakes she made. She was lucky, Hotch saved her but he’s not around to catch any more kids like her.
Morgan got hired by a family two streets over to fix up their house before they move in. He’s there now, tearing out rotting beams.
This collapse is not of the life-threatening kind. Not to Hotch at least. There’s no internal bleeding, no emergency surgeries. He doesn’t even need stitches but he’s on so many medications that thin his blood that it’s just on the safer side. From the hospital, he calls who he needs to. Reid first, he’ll worry when he gets to Hotch’s house and sees his truck gone. Then, Jack, it’s better to hear this sort of thing from him and not Emily in half an hour when she needs to yell at someone and who better than the son of the idiot she hates right now? Dave and Emily follow and he trusts them to carry the news the rest of the way. Rather, he simply doesn’t want to talk about it anymore and he’d rather Garcia and JJ and Morgan and everyone else just be mad at him than go on to have another conversation about how he’s feeling.
Fine. He just got light-headed. It was the heat and his perpetually low iron and probably his thin blood (the killer had been his blood pressure but they’re working on that). He just needs to get better about remembering to eat breakfast -- a larger breakfast than just tea and toast. Fainting, he assures Dave, happens. Jack’s seen it happen. The heat makes it worse, the summertime drains him. He’s come in from the garden and gotten weak in the knees plenty of times. He actually moved some chairs around the sliding glass door to the yard, prepared for this exact problem.
This over clarification does not help.
Made only the more complicated when he explains his head is fine. The fainting thing really isn’t a big deal, he just needs a ride home. He’d landed weirdly and pulled his back. He left with a new problem entirely, a torn ligament in his shoulder. That is a problem for a different day.
The surgery is set for the week just before Jack’s finals. Armed with a suitcase full of textbooks, his laptop, notes from this semester (and a few from last), and just enough clothes to recycle a few and still be fine, Jack shows up on his father’s doorstep. “I mean, the hospital isn’t exactly the library… but it’s not the worst place I’ve studied.” It’s far too late to send Jack back but Hotch is reluctant to let him stay. Even if he does prefer Jack be his ride rather than the likes of Penelope and that tiny green eye-sore of a car she drives or leave him to Reid and his defensive, jerky driving.
To the sound of “Aaron Hotchner November 2, 1971”, Jack settles down with his books. He tries to put himself in the right headspace for studying but it’s harder than he anticipated. The constant motion of the room unsettles him and he looks up several times to see his father’s reaction. To gauge the anxiety in his face, in the deep breathes that he pulls in through his nose. In how tight his fists are holding the sheets underneath him. It’s a simple surgery and they’ll be out of here in no time.
“Young” his heart had not handled the heavy sedatives and morphine well. Then again, those incidents are always hard to measure against a thing like this. Rushed into the ER with nine chest wounds and having nearly bled to death, it’s natural to conclude the stress of his depleted blood supply and his very recent trauma had caused his heart to stop on the table. That said trauma was the reason his heart had maintained to be a steady problem up until they released him. Again, when he was brought in with some of the worst internal bleedings the staff had ever seen. His heart had given them trouble too.
Jack is staring blankly at his flashcards when the doctor comes out.
Hotch had gone to Georgetown to be a lawyer like his father and his grandfather. Jack went to Georgetown to get an Art History degree. He was lead by something else. Not chasing some shadow, clutching at a lie he spoonfed himself. Jack didn’t live in anyone’s shadow, never felt the pressure to look and act a certain way. Was never beaten into submission or told to hold his tongue. Jack went to museums every Saturday with his father, preferred them to the aquariums and the zoo. Hotch held him close to the artwork, pushed his dense schedule around to go to new shows, and learned the names of pieces just to recite the knowledge back to Jack.
In his lap, Jack is memorizing pieces of art like his father had years ago for him. He’s stuck on The Anatomy Lesson, eyes glued to the details. The way colorless skin is held in forceps, peeled back to reveal angry red. He can feel the pinching teeth on his own skin, feels the heavy flow of hot blood spilling down over his arm.
“Hotchner?”
Jack flinches, caught completely off guard. He stands, flushing as he tucks his notecards into his textbook, and stands. “Ugh, yeah. That’s me.” He wipes his hands off on his pants, rubbing away the nervous sweat he’s built up.
The doctor recognizes him from earlier. He’d watched Jack and Hotch get out one last goodbye. Jack pulling up a nervous smile, dirty-blonde hair, and light eyes a complete contrast to Hotch’s ever-darkening features. Somehow more solemn, voice taken by the sedatives already working through his body. He hadn’t said a word, eyes vacantly following Jack’s movements but unaware.
Jack expects the same monologue he hears every time. The one that comes out so dry and perfect that they must practice it in front of the mirror, say it softly to themselves as they as they get ready each morning. He’s got it memorized himself -- the bits about recovering in post-op, make a full recovery, and whatever on the fly timeline they give for access back to the room.
“But he’s-- He’s okay? He’s--”
Jack feels impossibly childish. Five years old and Emily’s chilled fingers brushing his tears away, “baby, I know you miss your mommy. But you’re being so terribly mean to your daddy.” He had been, a terrible little monster squirming away from his father and refusing to eat anything. Throwing tantrums about nothing and everything. Screaming and crawling under his bed every chance he got. Pushing himself to the wall knowing he couldn’t be reached.
Now he can remember Hotch just sitting at the edge of the bed. There on the floor for hours. Sometimes he read, would pick up a book, and just start from wherever just to make it so his voice was reaching where he couldn’t. He slept there too, on the hard ground just to make sure Jack knew he was there. Slipped strawberry pop tarts on crazily designed animal plated under there, offered bites of his own food to the darkness under the bed. Sippy cups full of chocolate milk and juice.
He feels like a little boy again, getting news that he has no idea how to handle.
“He’s okay?” Jack stammers. “He’s going to be okay? I can see him?”
Hotch remembers those days under the bed too. Waking up in the middle of the night as Jack groggily curled close to him, still under the bed but crawling under his blanket. The ends of those awful sobs, Jack’s little chest jerking as he hiccuped. The force of his sorrow was too much for his little body. And Jack would fall into his lap, exhausted and needing comfort. His little fingers tracing the scars on Hotch’s face. How he whispered “thank you” and “please” from underneath the bed and how he’d pop his head out to say, “Daddy, I’m going to potty. I’ll be right back.”
Jack’s legally old enough to drink now and Hotch still sees that little boy. The three-year-old wiping his snot on Hotch’s dress shirt. The six-year-old holding his hand and reminding him to look both ways twice before crossing the street. The eight-year-old he left the hallway light on for, old enough now to think he needed to brave the night without a nightlight. So Hotch would offer to keep the hallway light on, not for Jack but for him because he doesn’t like the dark. The ten-year-old sheepishly offering him a father’s day gift he bought with saved allowance, a t-shirt he’s now worn the words off of. The fifteen-year-old curling up beside him on the couch, seeking his comfort but not sure how to ask anymore. The eighteen-year-old as tall as him talking his ear off while he tries to get dinner ready, sticking his fingers in the pan and sitting on the counter.
How did he grow up so fast?
He’s not a little boy anymore. Hasn’t been for a long time.
The creaking of a chair moves Hotch’s attention and he looks away from Jack. Away from the sight of his little boy curled up on a cot, drooling onto a pillow and notebook still open, a pen dangling from his fingers. He looks over and Emily’s sitting up, her reading glasses precariously sat on the tip of her nose. “Oh look,” she mumbles. She stretches out, groaning as her joints complain from being held in this miserable hospital chair for hours. “You’ve decided to join the land of the living.”
Hotch watches her fold the thin black frames of her glasses up, gently sits them down by his hand as she stands up. Jack had called her, even though he promised he wouldn’t worry anyone. Hotch didn’t want anyone else coming to the hospital over something so small and though Jack protested that their concern wouldn’t be because he was bothering them but because they love him. The very same reason he’d come home is that people gather after these sorts of things. They need reassurance that he’s alive and he’s just going to have to accept that. They compromised in the end, everyone could come to smother him in worry after he got home from the surgery.
But Jack was scared. He called the only person he could think to, the woman whose role in his life that was never really clear. She’d gotten on him about his grades, smacked the back of his head when he said something stupid, and always let him taste-test her wine at Thanksgiving dinner. Emily knew things that not even Jessica knew and she could be sterner than both Hotch and Jessica and also more relaxed, more understanding. She was always there for both of them, in the same capacity as Jessica and yet her own unique one. A friend Hotch trusted and loved and Jack could understand that. His friends always wanted to know if they were dating and he knew intuitively that the answer was no but he would hesitate to try and explain. But he didn’t understand the gravity that pulled them together, adults and their relationships far too complex to fit it into his simple understanding of love.
He did understand she was the only person to call.
“What’d he do this time?” she asked and knew she was playing the wrong role for the wrong Hotchner because no sooner than she could ask she had an armful of Jack. She sat with Jack for hours, let him get his fear out. Held him while he sobbed, felt pulled to the past. When it was Aaron on her shoulder, terrified he’d lose his son. Life has this very odd way of bringing everything full circle.
“I bet you’re hurting.” Emily moves to the table and pours water into the little paper Dixie cup left by the nurses. “Been right dramatic this afternoon,” she informs him, a dissatisfied matter-of-fact tone in play. “I know you find that to be particularly taxing.” She holds the cup for him, gentle despite her annoyance. She’s close enough to see the iodine on his skin. Dark orange swipes across his pale skin, the smell burns with its strength.
He pulls greedily from the cup, mouth impossibly dry. Stopped only by how little she poured, he sinks back heavily into the pillows behind him. His shoulder hot and angry from forcing himself upright.
“They’re going to let you go in the morning,” she says, sitting back down. He won’t remember this in the morning. Emily holding his hand, whispering thickly how angry she is with him as tears fall down her face. How scared she was getting that phone call from Jack, racing down here to be a composed person to comfort his son thinking her best friend was in the morgue.
He’ll wake up with a pit in his stomach, residual feelings from the night before he can’t tie down to memories. Emily shows no inclination to repeat herself, just coldly informs him that she’ll have Penelope make him a cardiologist appointment (it’s unspoken that no one trusts him to do this himself). Jack walks on glass, close by but terrified of being pushed away. Hotch is too out of it to put up much of a fight, by the time the morning shift has their hands on him he’s silent. Properly dosed up for a ride home and out of his mind.
He’s groggily propped up on pillows, watching Jack and Emily fight over if he has the right to wear shoes or not. Emily wants to hold them captive, he won’t run off or refuse the wheelchair without them and Jack shakes his head, “he’s not our P.O.W, Emily. He’s even going to get that far if he does try to run.” He’s given his shoes but Emily makes a point to collect his cane, holds it while the nurse helps him into the wheelchair. He’s a flight-risk and she’s not going to trust him, he’s run off on her too many times for that.
At the house the other’s have gathered up, having nothing better to do evidently on a Wednesday at ten in the morning. Penelope’s frying eggs and bacon, the carnage it takes to feed their brood spread out on his kitchen counter. Reid sitting on the counter, Hank in his lap, and the two of them watching Penelope. Derek’s on the sofa, feet kicked up on the coffee table, and Savannah learning on his shoulder. Dave’s getting orange juice from the store declared them all lawless, and didn’t trust them to get the right kind.
Hotch is granted his cane to get back inside the house but Emily threatens to kick it out from underneath if he tries anything fast. He smacks her ankle and Jack has to actually step between them to keep them apart. It’s in times like these where Jack finds himself wondering how these two ever had any role in raising him at all.
“Don’t you have jobs?” Hotch asks, hooking his cane over the coat rack and toeing his shoes off. He ignores the hand Emily places on his arm, afraid he’ll knock himself over. He manages just fine, has the whole house set up so that every other step is within arms distance of something to lean on. Fingers trailing the back of the couch he limps past Derek, smiling when Savannah offers a soft “glad you’re okay”. She pats his hand and he nods back.
“Up for some food, sir?” Penelope asks and she’s not taking no for an answer. They might be having heaping servings of eggs and bacon and gravy and orange juice but she’s made two small bowls of oatmeal. She takes the medicine Jack tosses up on the counter, puts it at the end where the rest of his medication sits. “I cut up apples,” she tells Hotch with a wide grin, sliding the bowl in front of him. “Dashed a little cinnamon and sugar in there, it’ll stick to your bones. Keep you healthy.”
He’s at a healthy weight at the moment, not as thin as he leans to when he’s sick but with Hotch, it’s always a good thing to have some collateral weight for the “in case”. Lifting the spoon in his left hand he scoops some of the oatmeal up, doing his best to hide his annoyance at how weak his extremities still are. How his hand shakes under the light strain of the oatmeal. He looks up, watches Spencer carry Hank over to the highchair sitting at the table beside him. He’s distracted so Emily swoops in, takes his spoon from his hand, and tries his oatmeal. He lets her do it. He raises an eyebrow and she shrugs. She likes it. He nods, it’s pretty good.
Hank immediately knocks his spoon on the ground and makes a low whining sound in the back of his throat. “Hop help,” he whines, pointing down at his spoon. His speech is still developing so he pronounces help and hop nearly identically but Hotch understands the difference. He just can’t bend over like that. His right arm is still pinned to his chest in an intricate web of gauze and this sling.
“Reid,” Hotch calls. His voice is deep, strained from intubation and anesthesia. It makes him sound sick. “He’s dropped his spoon.”
Reid nods, he already knows.
Hank points to his shoulder and frowns, “Hop fall down?”
Hotch nods, that is pretty much what happened and at the same time, Emily sweeps in and tickles Hank. She presses kisses to his face and making him laugh loudly. “That’s what happens,” she says. “Hops is just old.” Hank is too distracted by the ongoing attack to defend Hotch not that a toddler rising to his defense is very helpful.
Hotch sighs as Jack comes up behind him, stealing his spoon too. He takes a bite of the oatmeal and deems it nearly as good as the kind that Jessica makes. Hotch wants to be annoyed by it and yet all he does is nod and finds himself smirking just a little.
Penelope calls everyone in for breakfast and Hotch ignores the kisses pressed to his cheek as people drag chairs to the table around him. To the hands that slide over his back, assurance of life he remembers Jack calling it.
Derek slides him a mug of tea, made exactly how he likes it. He sits across from Hotch, close to Hank in case either needs assistance. Emily sits to his left, slides her coffee up beside his tea so he can have some if he’s quick about it. Jack sits beside her and the rest is a blur, too much motion at once for him to take in without his contacts or glasses. Penelope slides a tea plate to him, his medicine on it, and kisses his head while he’s still scowling at the plate.
They don’t leave him alone all day.
He ends up taking a nap with Hank, the toddler’s sticky little fingers holding onto his shirt as he finds himself unable to fight off the effects of the medicine and his full stomach.
He’s squished on the couch between Derek and Dave, forced to watch baseball because he can’t worm his way upright again just yet.
They change the dressings on his shoulder, his teeth clenched tightly so that he doesn’t let anything slip.
At midnight he wakes up on the couch. Jack’s bedroom door is shut, he’s sleeping peacefully inside. His heating blanket is pulled up to his chin, the heat turned up all the way. He can’t remember getting into this state himself but he has a fate memory of JJ helping him move his hand to his mouth, encouraging him to take the pain killers before bed. Of Derek making sure he didn’t just fall straight over onto his side. He manages to find Dave stretched out on the Lazyboy -- the chair he got Hotch for his fifty-something birthday. He’ll wake up in the morning to more food being made in his lonely kitchen, JJ this time. She’ll make blueberry waffles.
If he’d wanted attention, Emily will tease the next morning, he could have just asked. And he didn’t even know he wanted this. He never finds the words to ask for it to continue but every Saturday morning it happens anyway -- his kitchen and living room full of pajamas and suits in varying degrees depending on who has what to do that morning. The fainting thing is not cool but he considers this to be a good trade.
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colorseeingchick · 3 years
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Valentine’s Affections (Kageyama, Oikawa, Kuroo)
I adore Valentine’s day! Love is in the air and chocolate is in my stomach. But for you and these boys? Well... it’s a lil more complicated than that. 
A/N: We are going to completely ignore the fact that valentine’s day was a full 3 months ago. Love is always in the air on this blog !
Warnings: Light swearing? Maybe? Lotsa fluffy stuff beware cavities. 
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Kageyama Tobio
Kageyama stares hard at the vending machine in front of him. Now, this was far from a new situation he found himself in- he found himself in front of this very vending machine every single day. But the stakes were much higher this time.
Strawberry, or chocolate? Which would be a better gift? 
Early on he decided against chocolates, cuz it felt too obvious. He opted out of a note, cuz he wasn’t articulate enough for that. And for the same reasons a verbal confession was completely out of the picture. So here he was, in front of the vending machine, hoping you would accept his love, or at the very least, the milk carton as a token of it. 
He decides on the strawberry milk, because the pink carton color reminded him of hearts, so he was hoping his love message would be real clear!! 
As he approaches you in the gym, he feels the nerves stir in his stomach. You’re surrounded by the other first years, excitedly chirping at Tsukki and Yamaguchi while Yachi and Hinata jump up and down around you (for what reasons, who knows) now that clean up is over. The second and third years weren’t that far away either. But he knew he’d have to do this sooner than later. 
Kageyama stands pensively behind you at a slight distance, awkwardly shifting weight back and forth between his feet. Finally, he finds the guts to call out to you. “Y/N...san.” Alright, maybe it was more like a mutter. No one had heard him, but Hinata had noticed his presence. 
“Kageyama! There you are.” 
All eyes shift to him, including yours. The heat rushes to his face as he hides the milk behind his back. “Boke! What do you want!” He only gets redder as his eyes meet yours. 
“Y/N-san!” He yells a bit too harshly. But you don’t flinch, you just smile. “Yes, Tobio-kun?” Gah, your voice is sweet as always, and he doesn’t even know what to say. 
Stepping towards you, he essentially shoves the milk into your hands before turning around and marching out the door. 
You stare at the carton quizzically, while the boys in the gym collectively let out a heavy sigh. 
“Was that… supposed to be a confession?” Daichi’s disbelief was evident.
“He does that every day though,” Hinata comments, clueless. 
“But today’s Valentine’s day, there’s probably more to it, right?” Ennoshita curious.  
“Of course that’s the way that idiot would do it.” Tsukki is snarky as ever. 
But you don’t hesitate to run back into the club room, a determined look glued to your face. 
“Y/N san! Where are you going?” Hinata calls. 
“Let them be, Hinata. They have something to take care of.” Suga has a glint of amusement in his eyes. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kageyama tries to calm down as he aggressively drinks his chocolate milk. But he’s jittery all over when you pop up next him. 
“Tobio-kun, did ya really think you could just throw me a box of milk and then split? On Valentine's day? Tsk Tsk.” You smile as you move to stand in front of him. Words are far from his physical capacity at the moment, so he opts to just stare at you instead.
“But by the way,” you pull the carton from behind your back in your left hand, and shake it in front of him, “Accepted.” He feels his heart melt in relief. You understood what he meant. At least he thinks you do. You always understood him somehow, even though he wasn’t great at communicating. 
“And also…” Your right hand appears now, a small box of cutely wrapped chocolates snuggly fit into your palm, “this is for you. Please, accept it.”
His eyes go wide in shock. For some reason, this was not what he had expected (though everyone else knew it was coming). His heart now swells with an indescribable feeling that he never wants to stop experiencing. 
“And this too... unless you want me to stop...” He doesn’t know how else you could potentially make him fall apart more than he already had- but he got his answer when your hand grabbed onto his collar and tugged him down to your height. You placed a slow and gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Tobio-kun, I like you.” Yeah, his heart wasn’t ready for that one. 
Oikawa Tooru
“Thank you, Suki-chan!” “So sweet, Maki-chan!” “These are delicious, Haru-chan!” First period hadn’t even begun and Oikawa had already been swarmed with gifts. But despite the time he spent basking in the affections of his little fans, his eyes were trained on you, watching as you happily handed Iwaizumi a cute little box of chocolates. Oikawa saw how his best friend smiled, and he saw the way you buried your face into Iwa’s chest when he hugs you. He decides to ask you about it at practice. 
“Y/N-chan!! You know what day it is today!” 
“How could I forget when I see my favorite setter drowning in more chocolates than usual?” He ignores the unidentifiable tone in your voice and presses on. 
 “I saw you give Iwa-chan some~” 
“Yes I did.” 
“Sooooo~”
 “....so what?” 
“Where are mine?” 
“...I…”
 Iwaizumi steps in, his hand protectively grabbing your shoulder. “What’re you harassing Y/N for, Shittykawa. You got enough chocolates already didn’t you? No need to be greedy.” Your eyes are glued to the floor, but Oikawa just sighs and waves it off. 
“Sorry, sorry, Y/N-chan! I just figured your chocolates would be so tasty I was jealous Iwa got some~ but I’ll be waiting for them next time!” If only you knew, I would rather eat a single one of your sweets than all the other sweets combined.
He tries to forget the incident until he hears his doorbell ring at 9 pm. “Tooru! You have a friend who’s come to see you!” He’s surprised to see you waiting at his gate, face flushed, breath ragged, and hair ruffled.
 “Oikawa-san!” You say with determination. “Y/N...chan?” He walks towards you, confusion and concern clear on his face.
“Oikawa-san…” the confidence fading as he comes near. You look away from his face as you outstretched your hands, a cute, small pink box with a tiny bow on it in hand. 
“I’m sorry I didn’t give you chocolates earlier today….I just....” your hands retreat to your body, box still grasped. You look down at your feet once again, so you can’t see his eyes go wide. “I thought about making you some sweets yesterday but, I always knew you had so many fangirls and I didn’t wanna get in their way, or worse, make you see me as one of them… so I didn’t. I’m sorry. I, I didn’t consider you would feel left out. So I made these for you after school! Will you please accept them!” 
You look up at him finally, only to see tears streaming down his face. “Oikawa san? Are you okay? I’m sorry if I said something that-” 
“I’m sorry Y/N-san, I don’t know what’s gotten into me. But are they really for me?”
 “Mhm!” You hand them over, in anticipation of what he would do next. He opens the box, pops a chocolate into his mouth, and then smiles. 
“Just as I expected- it’s perfect.” He steps towards you once again, and wraps his arms around you, tightly. “You’re nothing like the rest of them, yanno. You’re very special to me.” 
Kuroo Tetsurou
“Happy Single’s Awareness day!” You sing-song at the boys standing in front of your gate, the sun peeking out over the horizon. 
“Just jumping over Valentines, then?” Kenma asks you, his face hidden in his switch. 
“Yep! Nope! Not for me~ don’t need a valentine!” You’re carefree as you stroll ahead of the two of them, hands thrown behind your head. “Giving Valentine’s are dumb. Right, Kuroo!”
Kenma takes his time to pull his nose away from his switch to let his cat like gaze fall on his best friend, who’s been awfully quiet this morning. He knows why. 
“Do you agree, Kuroo?” He asks, probing. 
“...Yep. What type of headass buys into Valentines-” He criticizes. 
Kenma knocks Kuroo’s bag with his elbow, his gaze transforming into a glare. You do, Kuroo. No chickening out. 
Kuroo’s grasp on the bag resting on his shoulder tightens, well aware of what he has to do. 
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After school was over and practice was done, Kenma got dropped off at home because he wanted to go home early, for some reason. So now it’s just you and Kuroo, laying on the hill by the bridge, bathing in the hues of orange and pink as the sun sets slowly. 
You stretch out on your back, relaxing onto the grass underneath you. “Man, did ya see all those idiots handing out valentine’s? So cheesy.” You close your eyes and pull your hands up to cushion your head, turning your chin up. Kuroo rests on his elbow, angled so that he can watch you as you talk, his hand scratching his head soothingly.
“ Who wants dumb chocolates anyways? You think these chicks would get sick of all the chocolates they get. Hmph.” He watches as your mouth twitches down, eyes squeezed tight. 
To be fair, both of you were acting...different today. Kuroo can read you like a book, and even how he can still pick out the unease you’ve been tryna hide all day. But his own nervousness and jitters keeps him quiet. 
As you both sit in silence, stewing in your feelings, Kuroo lets out a deep sigh. Now or never. You hear him rustle in his bag as he pushes something over to you. You open your eyes to see a small box by your shoulder with a cute lil cat sticky note pressed onto it- reading, “be Mine, Valentine? :3” 
You freeze for a second, processing what he pushed over to you. You look up at Kuroo, who’s now turned his back to you, sleeping on his side. 
You open the box and find a cute cat bracelet inside. “Kuroo?” 
“You’ve been trashing valentine’s chocolates for a while now- so I figured I’d get you something better. It’s cheesy, I know. Don’t “at” me.” He stays, turned away from you. 
You take your time to pull the bracelet out the box, letting heat rise to your face. 
“Did you do this just because…? To make me feel better, or-”
“Still a headass huh.” He finally turns around, and you’re glad to see that his own face is as red as yours feels. 
“Kuroo… do you, like me?”
“Damn, you’re gonna make me say it huh?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah I like you. Now hurry up and reject me so we can go back to being normal and I can get over my damn nerves. I hate not being myself.” He mutters as his lips twitch into a pout as he rests his bedhead into the grass, hands caressing his neck. 
You take a second before crawling over to him, watching him in silence. 
“You’re an idiot, too, ya know.” He peaks one eye open, to give you a questioning look. “Now help me put this bracelet on.”
“You like it?”
“I love it. I’m never taking it off.”
“You serious?!”
“Of course I’m serious.”
His Cheshire grin breaks out onto his face as he sits up, closing the gap between you two.
“Oh? Does someone like me back?”
“Yeah someone does. Now are you gonna help me or not.”
In that moment, you don’t think anything can compare to the sheer joy in Kuroo’s eyes as he carefully clasps the bracelet onto your wrist, wrapping his strong fingers around yours.
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