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sanjisblackasswife · 2 years

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Hello! I don't know if your request is open or not, sorry if I send this request when your request is close. May I request separate headcanons for monster trio x fem reader? Reader wears clothes that can hide her ass because she's uncomfortable when someone stares at her ass (and she dislikes her ass because it's too big). Sfw or nsfw is up to you. Is my request alright and fine for you? Do tell me if you feel like it's too much, thank you!

A/N: This stupid ass draft didn’t save and I already wrote sm so I apologize for the late response I was so mad SKSHSHSKSK anyways I’ll always put on my head when my request are closed so you’re good babes your request was perfect thank u!. But I did do a similar HC of this but it was pretty OOC and spicy so I’ll make this one more tame and sfw ;) tysm for requesting!

Monster Trio’s Girlfriend Insecure About Her Big Butt (FLUFF)

Black Fem Reader in Mind

Ft. Zoro, Luffy, & Sanji

No warnings! Just fluff and stupidity.

————————————————————————————————————————

Zoro

As if this MF gives af

Look at him. And imma say it again:

Booty Hunter Zoro is canon. I will not have y’all disagree w me on this idc what y’all say

Anyways he doesn’t really care what you wear so he never had a reason to question why you mostly wore baggy clothes. He assumed since you’re the martial arts fighter of the crew it gives you more leeway?

Today you and him went to go fishing in a small town and it was a bit hot so you wore a long dress with a jacket over your waist. Just for extra precaution.

“Got damn…” you heard a few guys whistle from behind you which made you hold onto Zoro’s arm as he scratched his ear yawning not even paying attention to any of the men cat calling you and making derogatory comments about your shape.

“Fuck that’s a sweet piece of ass he got—hey sweetheart how bout you dip that asshole and come have fun with us?”

Zoro usually doesn’t engage with people that holler out to you both. You and him both know Zoro will protect you so he tells you not to worry about the stupid comments. He just doesn’t give a fuck until they decide to get bold enough to get close

And that was the first mistake

“Hey!” The man’s hand didn’t even get to touch your shoulder before Zoro pulled out his sword and cut the man.

The rest of his crew behind him looked terrified and many of them whispered “Oh that’s the pirate hunter Zoro! How didn’t he know he was with that chick?!”

Zoro grabbed the man’s collar with full force and looked him then his crew in the eye

“Its already annoying as hell hearing you asses yell out to my woman without attacking all of you, but Just know next time I see any of your shitty dirty hands on her I’ll cut them off of you. It would suck to not have your only girlfriend to use when you’re alone at night wouldnt it?”

Just in case nobody understands the last prt Zoro is implying the man uses his hand to jack off

Zoro pushed the man back down and continued walking as he stole a bottle of sake from their group in passing.

“Common unless you want me to kick all their asses for you.”

First off it turned you on a bit hearing him call you “my woman” it was so out of character for him

You scurried to him and he held his hand out sipping his their drink and you grabbed it

“I hate I always cause this.”

Zoro didn’t know what the hell you were talking about but when he asked and you explained your issues with your butt and how you don’t like it he rolls his eyes.

Lowkey offended you but that’s how Zoro is.

“You shouldn’t be insecure about that. It’s stupid. Your body is ..very attractive and those idiots probably never seen a woman’s body besides on a magazine in years.”

“Any jackass that want to make you feel bad about having a sexy ass like yours can talk to me about it because they’re not the one that gets to grab it now are they?”

He was so shameless in his words.

“Zoro…”

You smile, your boyfriend can be a numbskull but his heart is always in the right place. So you take off your jacket and without a slip of the beat you get Zoro smack your butt.

“See? You really do have a great ass.”

“Stop it!”

He laughs and kisses your forehead because he still loves his overthinking girlfriend sm.

Sanji

This man is a true chad. A gentleman. A MAN ABOVE MEN—-

So he clearly notices when his Princess feels even a little bit down

He had a feeling by the way you looked at your body in the mirror there was something you didn’t like about yourself

He noticed how you never wore a bikini, or shorts, or even a flowy dress on hot days.

Sanji has asked you what’s the issue, but you brushed it off and told him not to worry about it

But Sanji being Sanji he couldn’t let that slide no no

There was a beach party celebration happening by the dock and a bunch of people in and out of town were there. You really loved swimming actually and Sanji wanted to go and play in the water with you but you were stuck in your room

“Y/N-SSAAAAAAANNNNN COMMON!”

Robin and Nami got you a two piece to wear, they said they didn’t want to see you outside until you wore it and that in turn made you nearly regret confining to them about your insecurity but you knew it was just the typical tough love they gave you.

You let Sanji in and he was already in his swim trunks ready to go but you were still wearing a sweats and hoodie

“Baby why aren’t you ready? You sick? Need me to make you some soup?”

He does NOT let go of the subject if you try to brush him off this time he has been seeing you act like this for too long

So you finally explain to him

After you let him know your dilemma with your big butt he’s ready to kick Zoro

He didn’t even have anything to do with it he just wanna kick his ass

“WHO SAID DISGUSTING THINGS TO YOU AND YOUR BODY? HM? I WILL KILL THEM—“

He began screaming and flames came out of no where so you had to smack him

“No! I Just…for a Long time guys always made fun of my butt and if they didn’t make fun of it they made sexual comments and I hated it and I—- there is just so many people out there—“

Sanji understands your issue but rest assured he reminds you why you shouldn’t. He tells you how he will hurt anybody that tries it and even bring a towel and a big shirt to cover you if you need it. You show him the blue bikini you were ganna wear and Sanji just forgets his sweet speech and spazzes the hell out

“OH PLEASE MY DEAREST BLESS MY EYES TO SEE YOUR PERFECT BREAST AND PERFECT BUTT! I WILL WORSHIP YOU PLEASE—-“

He was holding onto your legs crying.

Anyways you kick him out your room and put it on.

You have to admit you looked delicious you really did.

Tits were great, legs were amazing, and dat ass was so fluffy like a pancake you could bite it (yeah I said it)

You come out holding your body and Sanji pauses and just bleeds all over the damn place

Took you an hour to get off the beach because he kept passing out

Sanji really felt happy that you were comfortable enough to express your feelings to him so all day he was by your side

Yes his hands and eyes were on your butt

And as promised he brought the shirt and towel which you didn’t need because he made you feel so comfortable:(🤍

One guy did whistle at you, but Sanji kicked the shit out of him

He also had your thighs wrapped around his shoulder in the water and carried you around

All in all Sanji made you forget why you were insecure about your beautiful booty in the first place

Luffy

Luffy doesn’t quite understand but bless his heart he’s TRYING

You’ve told him about your insecurities about your butt and he really doesn’t fucking get why you don’t like it

He has actually turned you around and pulled up a dress you were wearing and stared at your butt saying “So what if it’s big it’s nice.”

Since then he subconsciously touches your butt

Very shamelessly

He doesn’t make you to wear any less baggy clothing but he will encourage you if you ask him, like if you should wear tights

“Yeah wear those Your but jiggles a lot when you wear em!”

Just like Zoro and Sanji he’ll Gum Gum tf outta somebody if they make disgusting comments about your body

Luffy wanted you to buy him some meat so you both went to a food vendor and while waiting in line as Luffy was sitting on the benches to the side watching you happily, a man pushed up against you cupping your butt in the process

“Hey! I felt that why’d you do that!?”

“Not my fault darling you got a lot going on back there…I just simply fell.”

You wanted to beat his ass but you were so close to getting Luffy’s food. It wasn’t too long until then you felt the creeps body really close behind you.

You prayed he’d just move but there was a crowd of people around you and you knew you’d have to clear the damn room if he touched you again

His hand was creeping up your thigh and you felt it even under your thick pants but that was until

“Luffy!”

Your sweet boyfriend GGP that mf down the street.

Luffy was watching you closely after hearing you yell at the man. He didn’t quite read your words correctly but he knew you were uncomfortable and he found out why

He grumbled grabbing your waist to be stretched over to him

“Weirdo. You okay?”

“Mmhm.” You really thank God for his stretchy body

“Good! Let’s go to a different food place for meat!”

The rest of the walk you were in front of him instead of beside him

“It’s okay, Y/N I’ll protect you.” He spoke in your ear “Not ganna let any assholes touch you.”

He has without effort helped you get over your dislike of your round tookus

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bexterbex · 4 years

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A Soul to Mend His Own | Ch. 26

Warning, if it hasn’t been obvious in the movies there is Nazi symbolism within the First Order. I will expand on this much more throughout the story. If this is something that bothers you, please just exit the story. The author does not condone any Nazi ideals, this is just for fictional uses only.

A Kylo Ren x Modern! Reader in a soulmate au with some canon divergence. —————————————SLOWBURN————————————–

He is already the Supreme leader, searching the universe to find you, his Empress. Your name on his wrist has been the only constant in his life, while you have doubts about his existence and his acceptance of you. He isn’t in the database and why did the name Kylo Ren cover Ben Solo?

MASTERLIST

Chapter 26: Reconditioning and Lack of Information

Lieutenant Mitaka informed you that it was time to go, so you put your laptop away and headed to the hangar. Surprisingly it was not General Pryde waiting for you this morning it was Allegiant General Hux. “Good morning m’lady I will be joining you at the Health Committee today,” he said collapsing his hands behind his back following you into the shuttle.

“Is there a reason why General Pryde isn’t here,” you ask.

“The Supreme Leader thought it was best that his best general would join you today,” replied Hux while strapping himself in.

You received a message on your phone from Kylo, ‘Good morning. I look forward to having dinner with you tonight. It is my wish that you will have a better day today.’

You look back up at the general, “So what you’re saying is someone informed the Supreme Leader to what happened at dinner last night.”

The general lifted his chin and with a neutral face said, “It is my duty to make sure that any time you are not with the Supreme Leader that you are comfortable. Last night you were not comfortable and so I justly informed him of this. In our morning meeting, he informed me that I am to escort you today and that General Pryde is to remain on board the ship this morning. He also believes that some of the next few health committee meetings you will need proper assistance as the health officials from your planet have stepped down. I am also the most informed person as to where your education on the First Order is thus far.”

You shook your head slightly at this. So you were being watched by Hux, he was informing Kylo about you, seemingly behind your back. But why would your education come into play? You were discussing your planet, not the First Order. You just hummed in response. Your mood was not better, in fact, it soured from when you woke up this morning.

You arrived at the White House and entered the meeting room. All of the doctors and nurses seemed to sit up straighter in the presence of General Hux.

“Allegiant General Hux, it is an honor to have you join us for this morning’s meeting,” said Dr. Koroban.

“Thank you, Dr. Koroban. I will be assisting Lady Ren in the negotiations as we are now without help from her own planet. General Pryde will remain on board the Steadfast for the time being,” replied Hux who sat next to you, whereas General Pryde normally sat opposite of you.

“On our agenda today I believe it is best to start with the topic of exercise,” said Dr. Koroban.

“As we have discussed in the past there are many ‘first world’ countries that do not take care of themselves health-wise as they should. There is a large population that has a sedentary lifestyle. I believe your planet m’lady uses the term office jobs,” said Dr. Dabrini.

“Yes, currently it is recommended that people receive at least 30 minutes of exercise a day and at least 10,000 steps,” you reply.

“One course of action that we may want to debate is broadcasting morning exercise videos to the citizens. Nothing too strenuous, something like light aerobics. Stretching and basic exercises,” replied Dr. Dabrini.

“When you say broadcasted you do you mean something like public television? Because many local public stations in ‘first world’ countries already do something similar. Mostly for those who are of retirement age,” you ask.

“No m’lady broadcast as in mandatory. We do it on all First Order planets. We have found it to be very effective,” replied Dr. Dabrini.

You knew there were daily morale-boosting videos that were standard in First Order occupied planets, but you were not comfortable with something like this. Mandatory exercises for everyone on the planet? Flashbacks from world history popped into your head, specifically the topic of the Hitler Youth.

“You realize my planet has not been affected by the influence of the Empire like many of your other planets? Our people, for the most part, are used to their freedom or at least the ideals of freedom. While this might be something that some people might like, the majority of the planet will not stand for this invasion of privacy,” you respond.

An officer who you have noticed in the meetings but has never spoken up before says, “Privacy is something you give up for the good of the First Order m’lady. You only gain it back once you have served the First Order well enough. It is a privilege to be earned.”

You turned to look at the general trying to watch his face in response. “This isn’t something you have told me. You told me you give up personal desires. On this planet privacy isn’t a personal desire, it is viewed as a right.” His face revealed nothing, he just stared at the wall on the opposite side of the room.

The officer spoke again, “Allegiant General sir, was it not your father Commandant Brendol Hux who said, War is peace, Freedom is slavery, Ignorance is strength when talking about those who have not learned of the ways of the First Order?”

“Yes, it was,” responded Hux who now has looked over at the officer his face still neutral or rather emotionless.

“If the memo that was sent out this morning was correct, then 85 percent of Earth’s population has already been registered and subsequently has effectively been taking their education sources. And with the 9 percent predicted to register today and 4 percent tomorrow then the majority of this planet has given up on their privacy already. Making that argument invalid,” responded the officer.

Hux’s demeanor changed at this, “Lieutenant Rodinon need I remind you that this is Lady Ren’s planet that you are speaking of. While you have been born and raised in the First Order, she has not. If you wish to remain in your position I suggest you remember who you are speaking to.” The was heat in his voice but the lieutenant did not back down.

“So has she not been receiving the enlightenment materials? She would know this by now if she were. What use will she be to the First Order if she constantly questions our motives,” asked the lieutenant who seemed to want to fight with the general.

“She is being tutored by me, lieutenant. I should not have to tell you that the Supreme Leader has asked that she receives a different education than others on her planet. Afterall she will one day be the empress of our empire. Apparently, I need to remind you of that fact since you have seemingly ignored it in your debriefings. Captain Pyre,” called the general to your usual golden guard. Who entered the room with two other storm troopers guarding the now open door. “Please have one of your men escort Lieutenant Rodinon for reconditioning. Make sure they tell Colonel Datoo that he should not only review the ‘Character Guidance Program’ but also the memos regarding Lady Ren’s status.”

With this, you saw that there was fear laced in the lieutenant’s eyes as he was escorted by the armed stormtroopers out of the room. Still facing the general you asked, “do you care to explain what just happened?”

His face emotionless once more, except for the muscle that you could see straining in his jaw. “Dr. Koroban if you would excuse Lady Ren and myself for the moment. I ask that you do not resume this committee until instructed to do so, we should be back shortly.” With that he gestured for you to stand and follow him, you made your way down to the familiar red sitting room to which you two were left alone in.

With his hands behind his back, he began to pace while explaining, “It is under orders from the Supreme Leader that you do not receive the same enlightenment as the rest of your people. For many reasons, as you are to know more about the galaxy and the meaning behind the First Order that you will one day fully help run. And the civilian enlightenment program has some drawbacks once you have received the first 3 lessons.”

“What drawbacks exactly?” There was now a present irritable tone in your voice.

“They tend to make citizens more docile to the First Order presence. Not that that is necessarily a bad thing, but the Supreme Leader has expressed the desire that he would not like that effect to happen to you.”

“So it is brainwashing them. You are brainwashing my planet into docile creatures. And Kylo approved this!”

At the mention of Kylo’s name, you saw one of the general’s eyebrows minutely raise. “We are not brainwashing them m’lady we are merely enlightening them to the path of order. They see how the First Order can help them and they accept it.”

You shook your head. “I don’t believe you. And he wants me to be not docile, but yet complicit because I don’t know what’s happening to my own people!”

“M’lady I believe this is something he can explain to you best,” the general’s arms were now in front of him in an almost surrendering position.

“But what about the reconditioning that you sent the lieutenant to? What is reconditioning?” You could feel the anger building and yet dissipating within you.

“That is something of a requirement in our officer and enlisted core. As you could see the lieutenant was acting in a disrespectful manner towards me and yourself. It is merely a relearning of the rules and regulations that they seemed to forget or deemed to ignore. I can show you it sometime if you wish m’lady.”

Your anger still hadn’t fully dissipated, “You also said that I would be an empress. That I would one day run the First Order. I have no desire to do this. I did not sign up to rule a military regime let alone a galaxy!”

The general had fully paused and turned to face you. His hands were behind his back and a stern look on his face, “My lady I do not appreciate you undo criticism towards me. This is something you should discuss with the Supreme Leader if you have an issue, not myself. Might I suggest that we return to the meeting? We can switch up the topic to one you would rather discuss and leave any other topic until you have had a discussion with the Supreme Leader.”

You relented. He was still part of the problem, being a part of the First Order and all, but he was not who you were directly angry with. He was right, Kylo really hasn’t told you much as he rather preferred to leave that to someone else, like Hux. You nodded to him and followed him back to the conference room. You knew that Kylo would have some explaining to do tonight at dinner. For now, you tried to focus back on the task at hand.

“I believe we should change subjects for now. Lady Ren is there a topic you would like to discuss,” asked the general.

“The topic of sickness prevention. I think we should right now focus on the citizen and not any major procedural items.”

“So you would like a campaign again for citizens to see talking about the basics of sickness prevention, and not any policies that any institution would put in place. Is this correct m’lady,” asked Dr. Koroban.

“Yes, although it may need to be discussed. There is also the matter of sick leave time as many who are sick must return to work sooner than they would like for things like the common cold. But yes I think a campaign, like the one for hygiene, should be done to prevent contagious sicknesses.”

“Something along the lines of washing your hands, don’t touch your face, stay home when sick, and don’t share food or drink with others? Common sense items but things that should be readdressed,” asked Dr. Dabrini.

“Yes. These were all things I learned in school but upon entering the workforce it seems like it is something people have either forgotten or just ignore.”

“I can have Petty Officer Tanau look into that, you have already done so much m’lady,” said Dr. Koroban.

“That’s fine, but could she send me what she finds so I can review it before it gets sent to the Supremacy for final inspection?”

“Yes, Lady Ren. I think that would be most wise. I’ll let Lieutenant Mitaka know when it is done as to not to disturb you. But I think we should wrap up this meeting for today,” with that Dr. Koroban dismissed everyone.

“My lady would you like to join me and Admiral Frantis Griss for lunch in the officer’s lounge,” asked Hux.

“Only if you allow Lieutenant Mitaka to join us.”

The general made eye contact with the lieutenant and noded. You were then off back to the shuttle to take your lunch.

#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo x reader #kylo x you #star wars #first order #star wars imagine #Star wars soulmate au #sw first order imagine #star wars first order #first order propaganda #a soul to mend his own #hold onto your butts its about to get more spicy #I hope you liked this chapter

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happys-crazy-queen22 · 3 years

Text

Gift From The Heavens

Gif credit @everyhowlmarksthedead

Requested on wattpad.

Hope you all enjoy.

Taglist. @nocturnalherb16 @ilovetaquitosmmmm. @mayans-mc. @believinghurts. @twistnet. @baylishh. @leaalfred. @the-mayan-queen @writerwithasoul. @jesseswartzwelder

"Careful now. Please be careful". Angel guided you to your seat on the couch. His hand protecting your round belly.

"Angel, I'm fine. I'm sitting nothing can happen when I have my butt in a seat". You laughed at his over protectiveness.

"You're carrying precious cargo. What would've happened if you had hit something on the edge of the couch"?

"Nothing. A bruise, maybe".

"I cant take that chance, babe". Angel kissed your cheek and sat beside you. The party around you seemed to add to Angel's protective side. It was your baby shower and the club decided to throw it. Mayans style.

"Hey, Y/N. Try this". Coco came over with his special dip, he makes every event.

"Give me". Angel stepped in front of you and took the bowl, stuffing a chip and dip in his mouth.

"Okay, its good". Angel handed you the bowl.

"What the"? Coco snickered confused.

"That could've been spicy and made her go into labor. I'm just being cautious". Angel explained.

"Coco, get him away from me before I stick my flip flop up his butt". You laughed but was serious.

"Babe, you need me. She needs me". Angel rubbed your belly, feeling a kick and it made his grin.

"She's telling you we need space before we go crazy. We love you but you need to chill. I'd hate to see when I go into labor". You rubbed your belly and she settled down and she got some food into her as you ate the dip.

"Alright, I'll go check the cupcakes". Angel huffed and went along with Coco.

"Bring me some more dip, please"? You stuffed another chip in your mouth.

While you stuffed yours and your daughters stomach Angel was doing like he always did. Gushed about the baby. He was so happy that he was having a little girl. He couldn't wait to hold her in his arms.

"She's already a daddy's girl. She loves when I sing to her when Y/Ns sleeping. It calms her down and she let's Y/N sleep".

"She's going to be so spoiled when she's comes out. Have you seen what Angel bought her"? Ez laughed at his older brother.

"Me? You bought her a seven foot teddy bear. I have nowhere to put it in the nursery".

"Maybe if you didnt buy her a six foot giraffe we would have somewhere to put it". Ez and Angel argued over giant stuffed animals and you and the others laughed.

"You okay, mamacita"? Bishop came over and sat down next to you.

"I'm great. Have a wonderful family to take care of me in my time of need". You laughed.

"He's going overboard, isn't he"?

"A little. I know he's excited and all. But the protectiveness is what's driving me crazy. He wont let me use the blender for my smoothies. He said the noise will hurt her ears. I told him hes crazy but he read something in a book. So it has to be right".

"He's just worried, that's all".

"I know. He's going to be a great dad". You laid your head on Bishops shoulder when you felt a sharp pain in your lower belly.

"Shiiit". You hissed, grabbing the couch arm.

"Y/N, you okay"?

"Get Angel"! You cried out just when your water broke.

"Fuck". Bishop cursed and jumped up from the couch, running over to Angel..

"Angel"?

"I'm getting her dip, dont worry".

"Angel, Y/Ns in labor. Her water broke". Bishop yelled.

Angel dropped the plate and ran over to you. "What do I do"? He asked hold your outer thigh, keeping your legs closed.

"911". You breathed in and out.

Everyone pulled out their phones and called 911 soon you had ambulances pulling up.

Angel helped load you up on the stretcher and into the ambulance holding your hand the whole time.

Angel was a champ during the birth. He patted your forehead and coached you on during pushing. He almost fainted when you lost some blood but he fought through it. But it was all worth it when he heard the little cries from his daughter.

"I cant believe she's finally here". Angel wiped away a tear that he caught before you saw. But you saw and you knew he was in love with her.

"She's beautiful". You held onto her hand.

"I'm so proud of you. You did so great". Angel kissed your head sweetly.

"You did great too, daddy".

"What are we going to name this little princess"? Angel asked, rubbing her cheek.

"Rita Marisol Reyes. After your mom. Is that okay"?

"That's perfect. For a perfect little girl. I love you both so much. I'll protect you with my life". Angel kissed your head over and over.

"We love you too, Angel. We couldnt ask for a better daddy and husband. You love us unconditionally and do everything for us".

"I would walk to the end of the world for the two of you. I'm going to keep you both safe. I promise you".

"I know, Angel. Dont worry. Everythings going to be okay. We'll get through anything that life throws at us as long as we're together". You brought your hand up and grabbed the back of Angel's neck, bringing his lips to yours and kissing him deeply. "I love you so much".

"I love you most". Angel smiled into the kiss and you both watched your daughter yawn and snuggle into your arms. This was life and Angel couldn't wait to let it grow.

#mayans imagine #mayans mc imagine #mayans x reader #mayans mc imagines #mayans fanfic #angel reyes fic #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes #angel reyes fanfiction #angel reyes imagine #happys-crazy-queen22

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ktheist · 3 years

Text

02 — show me yours & i’ll show you mine | m

➙ muses. seokjin x college student / gamer!reader ft. best friend! taehyung

➙ genre. best friend’s brother au. university au. working au. fwb au.

➙ word. 1.9k

➙ warnings. explicit content. oral (f receiving).

➙ index. 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | finale | side story 1 |

➙ synopsis.

“can we have morning sex?”

“not today.”

“is that my brother’s shirt?” is the first thing kim taehyung says to you after a whole night of you declaring war against him for choosing his girlfriend over you.

your body clock’s designed in a way where no matter how late you go to sleep, you’ll always wake up at 8 in the morning. the question of whether you can go back to bed or not varies. like right now, when your stomach is grumbling because it’s decided to deem that the spicy carbonara ramen you had has lost its sustaining-abilities.

“uh, is that a woman-choosing, best friend-abandoning human i see?” you say, eyes squinted at said human.

“whatever,” that seems to have taken taehyung’s interest off the creme colored sweater hanging off your shoulders and way past your butt. you could’ve not word shorts when you went out to get yourself a bowl of cereal. mainly because the brothers have a similar habit of sleeping in until the sun’s shining directly into their faces and they’d have no choice but to wake up - that is, in the event that they forgot to shut the blinds.

“what are you doing up anyway?” you ask but it’s a no-brainer because every friday night, kim taehyung and you would never fail to release a week’s worth of pent up frustrations over playing video games until the crack of dawn, “don’t tell me you haven’t slept.”

“unlike some people, i’ve got things to do,” he steals away the bowl of cereal you just finished preparing for yourself, “places to be.”

you can’t even get mad at his brazenness, not when those eyebags make him look like he’ll pass out with one swing of your punch. and you do punch like a girl - besides the fact that you are one, it’s already a settled fact that you’re really not fond of the idea of wasting your energy on something pointless - so you tend to give the least amount of energy for, for instance - if you do choose to - punching kim taehyung who’s walking away with your bowl of cereal.

so you fix yourself a new bowl, savoring it while watching an episode of the tale of nine-tailed and spending the entire morning catching up to the latest episode. it’s only until half an hour past noon, do you strut back into seokjin’s room, noticing the lump under the sheets now shifting with a sign of wakefulness.

“morning!” you greet, hearing the sound of hymns trickling into chuckles as seokjin pushes the sheet off his face and steals a glance at the uncalled for being that’s perched on top of him.

“you’re up early,” he remarks, arms stretched over his head, muscles flexing deliciously.

“can we have morning sex?” you put on your best smile, lashes fluttering in what you hope to be a coquettish manner rather than someone who looks like they have dust in both their eyes.

“not today,” he says but his large hand latches on your right breast, massaging with a expertise before pinching on your nipple and making you jump in surprise.

“ah!”

but before you get to complain, he’s pulling you down and engulfing you into a warm but shirtless hug (on his part at least).

“not fair,” you pout but snuggle closer anyway, forehead leaning against his chest.

but it’s short-lived because thunderous footsteps start echoing in the hallway and sounding dangerously close with each passing second. for a split second, you watch seokjin watch you, panic spreading across his face before your hands instinctively push him away. then the panic dissolves into alarm as he calls your name, accompanied by another timber-like voice that’s shouting out the same syllables.

“___!”

and then your butt hits the ground, then your back and your head at the same time.

“whew chile, that sounds painful, you okay?” taehyung sounds concern, but he doesn’t take any step towards you to further assert your head - you could’ve had a concussion for all he knows!

“um, gee thanks for making sure,” you want to roll your eyes, but you’re too busy rubbing the spot where your head made contact with the floor.

but seokjin, ever the thoughtful person, is already climing over the bed and pulling you up with one heave.

“why are you shirtless?” taehyung suddenly inquires.

the cozy creme sweater clinging onto your body feeling immensely inadequate as you ice up. he looks between you and his brother, screws twisting in that head of his before he asks another question.

“is that really my brother’s shirt?” his eyes scream concluded assumption.

well, it’s true, but-

“would you give me your sweater if i said i was cold?” you don’t give him a chance to respond, “no. right. so shut up. what do you want anyway? hurry up cause i wanna take a nap.”

“let’s play, the squad wanna go one more round with you before we all go to sleep,” he says, the matter of why seokjin is shirtless or if it’s really said man’s shirt you’re wearing now no longer a matter of importance.

you like how his brain works.

“the fuck? you came all the way here just for that?” you narrow your eyes, as if visually asking him if he knows whether he’s making sense or not but you get up anyway, walking towards your laptop that’s perched on the desk where you left it last night.

your friends greet you with less enthusiasm than they did last night - everyone sounded like they either need sleep or need a fuck. there’s no clear answer to what they need but you guess you’re up for one game.

“alright losers, let’s geddit.” your cheer is met with groans and tired version of ‘wooo’s and ‘yeah’s.

five minutes into the game, you feel a peck on your cheek and a smiling kim seokjin gazing down at you with bed hair and puffy cheeks. the smile you offer him back is fleeting because you have a character to maintain and a team to support. this time, you choose the supporting role while hoseok takes on the fighter role.

once you realize that the figure casting a shadow over you remains still and unmoving, you peek up at him for the briefest seconds to ask ‘what?’.

you’re only met with a higher tug of his lips.

and then he falls down on his knee - and you don’t even have the chance to wrap your head around it when he grabs hold of your ankle and spread your legs apart. lifting your ass up as he pulls down your shorts seem to be a muscle response than your brain actually understanding what’s happening. but by the time it does, seokjin’s face is already buried deep between your thighs.

“wah- yikes!” you manage to divert your surprise to the enemy that came on screen, forcing out a laugh, “th-that was a close one, whew i was about to die.”

“the fuck? you already had 8 hours of sleep what are you messing up for?” taehyung says into your headphone.

seokjin licking a strip up your love nub.

but that doesn’t stop you from retorting, “oh my god, did i tell you to play all night and not sl- sleep?” you bite back, barely managing to end your sentence with a consistent amount of sarcasm when the tip of seokjin’s tongue slips into your entrance.

“okay, okay, we’re all a little sensitive here,” jeongguk, the most competitive and non-losing-accepting out of the five of you actually tries to placate.

oh, you’re sensitive alright.

then he says something about how “we’re a team” and “if you wanna fight, fight the enemy team.” or something. you’re not so sure because you’re too busy clasping your hand against your mouth whilst trying to dish out healing powers to your team that’s fighting a few feet in front of you as seokjin tugs on your thighs, positioning them in an angle where his tongue can reach deeper inside you, so much so that your ass is almost hanging off the air.

“fine,” you almost choke on your supposedly vindictive reply as your toes begin to curl, back arching as the only sound that manages to escape you is a sob-like whimper whilst sparks erupt from the depth of your stomach and course through your veins like sweet, sweet poison.

seokjin kisses the inside of your thigh once your breathing slows down and you’re slumping on the chair like you have no energy left in you. jimin’s voice demanding you to cover for him barely registering in your brain as you click an ability that showers him with a protection spell.

“sorry, got distracted,” you say into the mic simply before hearing jimin’s “it’s okay, nobody died.”

literally.

if anyone of you died, it would’ve definitely been on you. last night, you got away with saying you weren’t in your ‘zone’ but today, your underperformance will be the reason you get kicked out of the squad for good. probably.

and because you’re under fire, you can’t stop seokjin when he slips away and out of the room, leaving you to make up for your mini blunder.

the game lasts a good 20 minutes before the golden symbol of victory flash across your screen and more energetic sheers erupt in your headphones. everyone starts bidding each other farewell and ‘good night losers’s before the headphones go quiet.

only then, do you bound down the hallway and into the kitchen where you know the reason of the sizzling, salivating scent is because of kim seokjin. a still shirtless kim seokjin with his beautiful, broad back on you as he chops something on the chopping board and gracefully pours it into whatever he’s cooking.

“that wasn’t fair - you should at least give me a warning,” you stand with your arms crossed over your chest.

“did the enemy you go against give you a warning before ambushing you?” he asks in a matter of factly, teasing smirk on his lips that makes your heart go flip flop.

he’s never smiled at you like that before.

“that’s- that’s different,” you refuse to back down, “they couldn’t even if they wanted to because the system doesn’t let us communicate with the enemy team.”

he nods whilst stirring the - you’d peeked - fried rice that’s sizzling in the pan, “i did give you a warning.”

“um where?” you can fee your eyebrows knitting together.

“the kiss,” he taps his cheek twice before shutting off the stove, devious smirk playing on his lips.

“i thought that was a bona fide peck!”

“that’s on you,” he shrugs, pouring the fried rice into four plates, “like namjoon says - never assume.”

“okay, maybe he did say that,” you concur, taking a seat across from him where he places the plate and offers you a fork and a spoon that he took out from their respective drawers under the counter.

“something smells good,” taehyung comes popping out from the hallway, bowl of empty cereal in hand as his eyes light up at the sight of the two other plates placed between you and seokjin, almost as if knowing that the only other thing that coud summon the kim brothers out from their dwelling is seokjin’s cooking.

“i’m starving,” namjoon announces, seconds apart from taehyung’s assertion.

so you have breakfast - or lunch, really - together like you would. just four kids from the same hometown who found home in each other’s presence.

you might’ve found something else that you like in seokjin’s pants - but that’s besides the point.

note. and here we go for the 2nd installment! hope yall enjoyed!

taglist. @scalubera @aretha170

#seokjin scenarios #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts fic #seokjin smut #seokjin fic #seokjin x reader #bts x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung fic #taehyung x reader #taehyung scenarios #taehyung fanfic #bts fanfic #seokjin fanfic #seokjin scenario #bts scenario #taehyung scenario

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jrueships · 2 years

Note

about your latest kyle/demar/jimmy… i can 100% see kyle and jimmy bullying demar on both daily basis or yk the bedroom 😏😁

what else is to be expected when demar gets with his two biggest haters !!! Thank you again to clutchpoints serving the gay agenda, unasked

BUT ALSO.........

you're So right op ... i think they're So funny. It's like they take turns being the one bullied like the healthy polycule they are! They remind me of that one stock photo compilation of these women bullying each other but like.. they would take turns being the one bullied?? Like in one pic the girl with the scarf would be the one getting her hair grabbed then the next pic SHES the one doing the hair grabbing ?? And people were captioning 'healthy elaborate polycule foreplay !! ' or 'the switch squad goin CRAAZY!!!' And it's like! Wow! It's very kyle/demar/jimmy

Like okay hmmm... like maybe kyle and jimmy are picking on deebo for idk always wanting to rp old movies LMAO like jimmy points at deebo mouthing the actors lines while he watches New Jack City and kyle does his evil little snort choke laugh and they clown on him in a duo. ' he think he Wesley snipes AAAHaa' 'he from Cali! The actor's dream is in his blood!' And deebos like 🙄 the copious stank yall be wafting through the vibes rn.... but then HE says smthin clever like 'if jimmy were an actor, he'd go every scene with some product placement in his hand' and kyle starts laughing at JIMMY now and jimmy like WOW. WOW! okay well at least i could fit on the screen without the camera needing to pan down everytime the crowd wants to see someone so Short' and kyle is like 🤣🤣🤣😐. That's not funny. So now deebo and JIMMY are laughing at kyle until kyle somehow turns it back onto deebo AND THE CYCLE CONTINUES !!!! like ! Idk!! Those three are just a bunch of little haters in love <3 i think they're just really funny, television worthy dynamic that flips All the time. They're similar but also Not, and it's Great. Also i Do be thinking about them cuddling together in bed <3 taking turns who sleeps in the middle. Jimmy is usually not allowed because he gets up really early and shakes the whole bed, but also he usually gets them all up in the morning with him even though they don't have to because he's insane planet fitness anyways. But yeah the idea of deebo sleeping in the middle of kyle and jimmy, buff arms around him at both sides, kyles leetle arms trying to hold both deebo And jimmy.. jimmy randomly holding kyles hand across demars chest.. demar waking up after a really bad dream that leaves him shaken and worrying about being alone, only to realize the two people he loves the most (besides his kids (and some stinky people too unfortunately bcus deebo is too nice)) are right there beside him and he kinda reaches his arms out behind them and pulls them closer, kisses their foreheads while they sleep <3. kyle doesn't sleep as often in the middle as youd Think he would because he moves alot in his sleep. Jimmy and demar wake up to kyle curled up on their legs like a cat under the covers LMAO. Also he probably hates jimmys coffee breath, even though jimmy smells like a God he Still finds Something to complain about. ALSO ALSO kyle probably still tries humping people LMFAO. Like they just be cuddling and suddenly deebo feels a dump truck repeatedly backing into his pelvis and jimmy feels something keep hitting his butt and deebo is like 'kahl. OK. Kahl- kahl, kahl. enough-' until jimmy goes 'LOWRY.' which gets kyle sent to the couch. Kyle probably sets the house on fire in the middle of the night and leaves lol (IM KIDDING

TO BE MORE SPICY ABOUT IT THO... LESS ON THE DOMESTICS UHHHHH... i think kyle and jimmy when they Bully deebo in the bedroom its kinda like... it basically feels like you're in hell getting 'tortured' by imps or whatever u know ???? like kyle is all 'you deserve a Break deebo, you deserve to Have this, you deserve So much.' And his stroking Demar's thigh getting closer and closer to where deebo wants his hand but won't until he has demar saying Please. Then there's jimmy behind demar muttering about how badly he wants to see him cry. Being more Crude with it. More rough, more demanding. Which is a pretty big accomplishment considering how bossy kyle can be. Which doesn't go away btw. Sometimes they don't always agree on what they wanna Do with deebo or want him to do or Want from him, not out of jealousy but out of 'EXCUSE ME??? im the sex SAVANT here get OUT B U M ' and deebo is just like. In heaven lol

#I'D TELL MORE ABOUT H*RNY KYLE/DEMAR/JIMMY THOUGHTS IF WANTED BUT I WAS MAINLY THINKING ABOUT THE FUNNIES #SORRY WILL WRITE ABT THEIR HOTNESS TOO IF WANTED #i just think ships should be a Little funny <3 #THANKS FOR ASKING THIS #THEYRE SO FUN TO WRITE #ted asks #ted redacted #ted sus #IDK I JUST THINK THEY R NEAT #i would write more about deebo getting bossed around but 🤩🤩 another day perhaps #kyle/demar/jimmy #ted drabbles

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love-takes-work · 3 years

Photo

Very Cool Potluck

Did you know that some people are so dedicated to reproducing Steven Universe recipes that they’ll both put cheese puffs in their sushi AND willingly bring durian into their homes?

I will teach you the basics of how to prepare the Cool Kids’ Potluck and also tell you the story of how I got food poisoning.

(Sorry, Lars’ ube roll is not included, because it didn’t make it to the potluck. It is available as a separate recipe, of course.)

See more SU food tutorials!

I decided it was time to do the Cool Kids' POTLUCK!

STEVEN: (holds up Snack Sushi) "Who's feelin' lucky?"

SOUR CREAM: "I brought the soda."

JENNY: "I brought the pizza."

BUCK: "I brought the assorted fruit."

And Sadie brought paper plates to complete the set. Too bad Lars's Ube Roll couldn't join them!

Okay, so we have a four-part meal. Most complicated of course is the sushi! We can assume it is Snack Sushi, which I have made before but didn't really give instructions. Steven explains pretty well but doesn't give you a sushi rice recipe. How about I just tackle this here and show you how?

Recipe 1: SNACK SUSHI

Ingredients:

11 1/2 ounces sushi rice

1 1/2 cups cold water

4 tablespoons rice vinegar

3 tablespoons sugar

1 teaspoon salt

1 package nori (seaweed sheets)

1 avocado

1 bag cheese puffs

Mayonnaise

Hot sauce

First, sushi rice is made a special way. I am no expert, but the way I do it has worked fine for sushi in the past. First you measure out your 11.5 ounces of rice and put it in a sieve, then wash thoroughly with tap water.

Put it in the pan you will cook it in, pour the 1.5 cups of cold water on, and let sit WITHOUT COOKING for 30 minutes.

When the soak time is up, turn on high and boil. As soon as it hits boil, turn to low, cover, and cook 15 minutes. Then turn off the heat and let steam in the pan for 10 more minutes. You now have fluffable, tasty, sticky steamed rice!

Next, make your vinegar concoction. Combine the vinegar, the sugar, and the salt in a small dish. Microwave it to dissolve the sugar. I did this in a few 20-second bursts. It smells strongly but I love that smell. Make sure when you stir it, there's no sugar on the bottom! It must be dissolved.

Pour the concoction over the hot rice and stir it in. You are ready to work with it!

From there, it is as Steven shows us in "Cooking With Lion."

• Put nori on a rolling mat, rough side up

• Spread sushi rice on the nori thinly

• Halve the avocado, remove pit, cut in slices and rub a spoon around the avocado flesh to dislodge it

• Place the avocado slices in a line on the rice

• Place a line of cheese puffs in a line next to the avocado

• Roll compactly, tucking as necessary to get it into roll shape

• Cut!

You'll also need to make "spicy mayo" for the garnish. Steven uses hot sauce and mayonnaise. Mix together and squirt neatly onto the top of each roll.

"Who's feelin' lucky?!"

And that's the recipe!

Tip:

Use rice shortly after cooking. Refrigerate it if you will not be eating it soon after. Guess who got food poisoning from eating old rice because of this? CAN YOU GUESS?? 🤢

Recipe 2: PIZZA

So I've made pizza from scratch half a dozen times already for this show. I'm not gonna do it again. (Here's my personal Fish Stew Pizza recipe.)

Jenny simply brings pizza from work! So I decided to go the easy route and purchase a commercial pizza this time.

We never actually see the pizza eaten. I will assume it's the default pepperoni pizza and add veggie pepperoni to mine.

Baking in the oven per box directions as I figure out pizza boxes!!

Jenny's got four dang boxes of pizza on that table. I'm sorry, but I will not be preparing four pizzas. I live by myself and am not actually having a real potluck here. I will use comic book boxes to provide the illusion of many pizzas even though I am only cooking one. Shhhhh.

I actually used paper cutouts and markers to design my own Fish Stew Pizza box!!

Done! Next!

Recipe 3: SODA

Another recipe where I don't really make anything. I am just dressing up a bottle of Diet Coke.

But at least I made it look like the soda Sour Cream brought (termed "So-Duh").

Recipe 4: ASSORTED FRUIT

Oh god.

Buck, you clown. 🤡🤡 You went and bought various pokey-skinned fruits and forced me to BRING A DURIAN INTO MY HOME.

Folks, do you have any idea what durian is?

Let's just say it's known as the King of Fruits and it is SMELLY. You can't look up anything about durian online without related news stories discussing areas where durian is BANNED, neighbors complaining if you bring durian home, and tips on getting the smell off your hands and out of your breath.

I've bought frozen durian before to make Durian Juice Boxes. It was bad enough frozen. But then I had to go buy a FRESH STANK MACHINE at the Asian Market.

The things I do for this friggin show

So we have pineapple.

We have dragonfruit.

And we have &%#!%@ durian.

Durian! People! Do you have any idea what my house smells like!!! And they put it in a bag like that because you can't pick it up without GETTING STABBED! god what am i doing

Anyway.

There, you happy?

Here is my beautiful POTLUCK.

Add paper plates because Sadie brought them and now Sour Cream is thrilled he doesn't have to do the dishes.

Also, I'm sure it wouldn't be all that much fun if you didn't get a quick lesson on how to eat the weird fruits, even though the Cool Kids did not cut into them. Right?

So after I recovered from food poisoning from that rice, I put down a plastic tablecloth on my outdoor porch table, gathered an assortment of knives and plates, grabbed some gloves, and prepared these fruits for eating.

Dragonfruit:

Cut in half. Cut further in quarters and eighths. Peel the fruit out of the husk and store.

Verdict: I don't like dragonfruit. It tasted like weird, hurty watery kiwi. Maybe you should know I'm allergic to kiwi. This is probably related. I shouldn't eat this.

Pineapple:

Cut the top and bottom off and discard (including the bush at the top). Slice the remainder completely in half. Cut the core out--you shouldn't eat it. Then slice each half and slice again into manageable strips. Cut lines in the fruit and cut them off into a storage container.

Verdict: I am allergic to pineapple so I didn't try it, but it smelled amazing. I saved it for my friend.

Durian:

All right, stank fruit, here we go.

Cut the stem off and flip the durian to stand on the top where you cut the stem off. Use pot holders to manipulate because otherwise IT WILL CUT YOU. Examine the durian's shape and see if you can figure out based on its bulges where the huge scary pods are inside. Make a cut through the very tough husk and pull it apart with your hands.

Pods will emerge. They are soft and delicate, so if you hold them too hard they'll break. Each contains HUGE seeds. Take the seeds out before eating. Go around the rest of the durian and get all the pods out. It's a scavenger hunt! Store.

Verdict: The smell is literally not any worse when you open it. It is a very thick, pervasive smell but to me it didn't smell like a rotting corpse or poop or anything.

But then I ate a little bit and the aftertaste was really dark and musty. Dip a butt in tropical fruit syrup. It was pretty vile. I swallowed it though, and my mouth was Very Unhappy. I do not like durian.

I guess I'm 0 for 3. My sushi made me sick because I left the rice out for hours, I can't eat any of my fruit, and I reused the pizza to make a damn Pizza Steve.

But at least my life is interesting while it's being a disaster, huh?

At least I can still drink my So-Duh.

See more SU food tutorials!

#steven universe #food #the good lars #potluck #the cool kids #myblog

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gnocchighoul · 4 years

Text

Big Spoon Bribery

Summary: This is the second part of this drabble!

Reader is gender neutral :D

Warnings: Mild angst and allusions to spicy times. This is mostly fluff.

Word Count: 3k

A/N: thank you @beelzebubs1trulove for the title 😘

AO3 portal

You have three missions. In order of importance, they are—

Acquire the coveted position of big spoon.

Help Lucifer and Belphie make amends.

Don’t die trying

Alright, perhaps maybe that last one should be higher up. But you just really really really want to be the big spoon. So badly. Like, you put together a gift basket to bribe Lucifer badly. In your totally humble and neutral opinion it’s a stunning work of art—lacquered black wicker basket three times the size of your head, stuffed to the brim with Princess’s Poison Apples, Coffee of Melancholy beans, some incredibly luxurious stationery, black booty shorts with ‘Enemy of The State’ in bold red print across the butt, and a bottle of Demonus, all surrounding the pièce de résistance: a voodoo doll of Mammon.

Oh yes. Tonight is going to go incredibly well.

The plan is simple and straightforward—foolproof. Suffocate Lucifer with presents and love, and then, when he's in a good mood and not expecting it: beg.

You reckon the odds are 51 to 49, in your favor. You’ve risked your life on worse—your short history in the Devildom is a glowing testament to that. It’s good enough. You’ve already cast the die. Now all that's left is to see where it lands.

To increase your chances of success, you’ve pulled out all of the stops for this momentous occasion. No expense was spared in making Lucifer’s room as clichély romantic as possible. The fireplace? Lit. Pillows? Fluffed. Lights? Dimmed. Rose petals? Scattered. Tastefully.

Even the big, (still) nameless skeleton—the guardian perched ominously in the corner of the room—is in on your shenanigans romantic gesture. The pair of black sunshades you had so skillfully taped onto it’s face have been replaced by an even better pair—oversized, bubblegum pink and heart shaped. Courtesy of your wardrobe, of course.

Now, you wait.

You throw one last fistful of crimson rose petals at the hardwood, then dive face-first into bed. In the distance, thunder rumbles. Though that might have been Beelzebub’s stomach. No way to know for sure.

This is fine. Totally fine. You’re an expert at being patient. A master, even. If RAD gave out degrees for being patient—well, you wouldn’t have one, because you’d have to wait for it. But it would be fine because you’re just so good at that. Waiting.

Patience. Paaaaaatience. Pay-shens. It’s fine. Yep. Nothing awful about this at all. You’re just going to wait.

And wait.

And keep waiting because apparently he’s working late again and totally disrupting your amorous plans, god dammit.

You toss your D.D.D aside and turn your attention out the windows, to the forest. The night sky is darker than usual—the moon swallowed whole by a maw of angry storm clouds, the darkest you’ve ever seen. The center of it crackles with purple lightning, splintering down to lash teasingly at the treetops.

You shift—adjust your mess of pillows and blankets, so that your head is at the foot of the bed. It’s not like you have anything better to do (not until Lucifer gets here) so you might as well watch the storm.

“Hm? What’s all this?”

You wake with a start—desperately try to pretend that you weren’t just drooling into the pillows. Lucifer is stood over your gift, examining it with shining eyes and upturned lips.

“Surprise!”

He’s already in pajamas. He totally saw you knocked out.

Lucifer tilts his head—lifts the voodoo doll and turns it over in his hands. Pokes at it’s plush belly with an index finger. Jabs a finger into its cheek, right next to the black-stitch smile. Holds it upside down by one foot. Your highly advanced Lucifer-reading skills tell you that he’s pleased. Poor Mammon. You should probably send him an apology gift basket.

Lucifer shakes mini-Mammon like a maraca. “What’s the occasion?”

“No occasion! I just felt like spoiling you.”

“You don’t say?” He drops the mini-Mammon back into the basket and makes his way to the bed—the mattress dips as he moves to hover over you, hands coming up to cage your head, one knee planted firmly between your thighs. Mirth dances between the red and black of his irises. “I should return the favor.”

He dips down to kiss you and your lightning fast reflexes kick in—your hand snaps up to cover his mouth. You feel his lips turn down into a scowl and you grin, shifting some beneath him.

“Chin up, buttercup. Don’t look so grumpy, I have something else in mind.” You waggle your eyebrows, and now he just looks confused—as much as he can with you pawing at his mouth—but perhaps a bit more hopeful. Sweetly, you whisper, “There’s something I want.”

He glances at the basket, eyes narrowing suspiciously, and knocks your hand away. He can’t help but wonder—why are you being so cryptic? What in the realms are you plotting now?

A little apprehensively, he says, “Is that right? What do you—”

“I’m so glad you asked! Lemme be the big spoon.”

“... That’s it? ”

You stare him down with the biggest, saddest, most heart-wrenching puppy eyes that you can muster. “Pretty please with a poison apple on top?”

He stares at you, disbelieving. Quirks a single neat brow and—oh. There it is. That all too familiar look in your eyes. Searing determination that burns brighter than the flames of Hell. Fierce and vivid. You’re entirely serious.

“That’s what you want?”

“Yes.”

“...You went through the trouble of making all that—” he gestures loosely at the basket. “Just because you want to be the ‘big spoon ’?”

You pat his cheek with a dopey grin. “No trouble at all when it’s for you.”

Lucifer ducks his head. Pink stains his cheeks. “You’re a menace.”

"Only for you, my love~"

You’re on cloud nine. Over the moon and stars. Walking on air.

At long last, you are the Big Spoon.

You understand now, why he’s so insistent on being the one to hold you. This is even better than the occasions when he’ll angrily throw himself into your lap and demand to be pet, which is saying something because those are some damn good times.

But this? This takes the cake.

You’ve got one arm snaked around his chest, the other up and playing with his hair. You could spend an eternity like this—content to listen to the rain pelting against the windows, your face buried in the crook of his neck.

There’s a small scar, just hidden by his hairline. You wonder if he even knows about it. If he remembers how it got there. It’s more recent—not as faded as the jagged twin scars carved into the center of his back, hugging his spine.

There are some things—very few things—that you don’t bring up. Lucifer’s missing set of wings is one of them. You have your theories, of course—you’ve seen the frayed raven feathers that Satan brandishes around his neck, not dissimilar to a trophy. You know of how he was created—of the bond that chains him to Lucifer. You know.

But, there are some things better left unsaid.

A proverb that you are absolutely about to contradict.

You have a mission, after all.

Slowly, stealthily, you lift a leg, hooking it around his hip so that he can’t escape.

“What are you doing?”

Okay, so maybe not as stealthy as you thought. He knows something is up, so you tighten your hold on him, just in case he flips when you start to pick at his feelings like a scab.

His apprehension, combined with how comfortable you are almost makes you want to throw in the towel. You could. Probably even should. This has gone above and beyond your expectations—your stomach twists at the thought of souring such a perfectly sweet moment.

Alas, your family is in turmoil, and you are but a humble knight in shining pajamas. Literally—silk is just so shiny.

Unless you want to end up with a face blasted full of feathers, you need to approach this carefully. You’re in the danger zone now—the risk is high, but so is the reward.

“Hey, Lu?”

“Hm?”

Carefully, now.

“Why did you and Belphie fight?”

You’re not sure how he manages it, what with your intense octopus hold on him, but with infuriating ease, he manages to twist around in your grasp so that he’s facing you. His upper lip curls into the slightest snarl, revealing sharp incisors.

“I’m not discussing this with you.”

“Why not?”

“Because I said so.”

“Because you… said so.” your tone is flat—offended. Heat ignites between the rungs of your ribcage, swirling around your lungs, sudden and consuming. It’s not the good kind.

He glares down his nose. You can see yourself in the black of his eyes—see the pinched furrow of your brow, the acidic bite of your own gaze. “Yes. Because it’s none of your business.”

“None of my business? You’re both my family and therefore both my business. And even if you won’t tell me, I still know that you shifted first. Usually the one who throws the first punch is the one that also needs to apologize first, y’know?”

“I see.” Lucifer’s eyes narrow—harden. He’s gone tense in your hold. You briefly consider squeezing him like a stress ball. “You’re taking his side.”

“Taking his—I don’t even know what the argument was about!”

Lucifer says nothing. You stare. Silence.

Seriously? Is that what he thinks you’re doing?

“Lucifer.”

He turns his head away.

“Lucifer. ”

He doesn’t look at you. Won’t look.

When Lucifer gets like this, you can’t afford to be tentative and gentle. He needs force—needs to be handled. Just a bit.

So, you take matters into your own hands. Literally.

You smush his cheeks between your palms and hold him in place, waiting for him to turn that bitter gaze upon your own. He looks like an angry goldfish—the handsomest goldfish that you’ve ever had the pleasure of spooning. Also, the only one.

“I’m on your side, Lucifer.” With a feather light touch, you brush your thumb across his cheekbone. “That’s why I think you should make the effort to just talk to him. You’re happier when your whole family is getting along.”

Your observation is right. It’s a truth that’s still too tender, too raw, but, it’s the truth. You know it. He knows it.

So, naturally, he escapes your grip and tries to flee.

“NO!” You swing a leg over his hips and shove him back into the mattress. He goes down hard, and before he can escape, you perch your happy little ass right on his chest, locking his arms against his sides with your thighs and praying to Diavolo that he won’t hurl you across the room at mach 5.

He doesn’t splatter you against the wall, but he does smile for a split second. Somehow that’s scarier.

Your heart chisels away at your ribcage now, and somewhere, in the recesses of your mind, you wonder if he can hear it.

“Look.” you ease the death-grip of your legs—nervously sweep a piece of lint off his shirt. “When we started dating, we made a deal. Remember? ‘No holding back’. Sealed with a pinky promise and everything. You and I are a team. A pair. Two peas in a pod. The heart and the brain! Tui and La. Co-captains! Pilot and co-pilo—”

Another twitch of the lips. “I get it.”

You nod sagely. “You get it. You don’t have to tell me the details of what happened if you don’t want to. I mean, it’d be nice because you know how incredibly nosey I am—stop nodding—but I’m willing to compromise if you at least tell me how you’re feeling. I want to know where your head is at. I know you’ve done this by yourself for thousands of years, but it’s not just you anymore, okay? I’m here, now. You’re stuck with me and I’m going to get that through your thick ass demon skull even if I have to—”

“Okay, okay, okay.” With a heaving sigh, Lucifer sits up, knocking you into his lap like a turtle on its shell. Before you can squirm away, he pulls you up—maneuvers you both so that his back is against the headboard, you straddling his lap. Eye to eye. “I take it you wrote all that down before I got here.”

You relax into him—loop your arms around his neck. His hands settle on your waist. “Yep. Two drafts. The other version had a lot more cussing. Wanna read it?”

He chuckles—presses a kiss to your temple and smiles there. “Of course.”

You two stay that way for a bit—content to sit in the silence and listen to the soft pattering of rain on the windows. You’re 99.99% sure he still isn’t going to talk about this, but you think that you got through to him. Somewhat.

Baby steps.

“Promise you’ll at least try to talk to him?”

Lucifer sighs, a bit dramatically. “I suppose so.”

You lean back to give him a look that says Really?

“I mean it. I will.”

You hold up your pinky finger and he stares at it, looking absolutely scandalized by your youthful ways. You tap it against his chest once, twice. Nothing. You tug the hair at the nape of his neck, and waggle your pinky. “C’mon, handsome. Make a pact with me.”

He rolls his eyes, but wraps his own firmly around yours, the barest hint of a smile on his lips. When you try to drop your hand, he threads his fingers through yours, and tucks you back into his chest.

“So…” your voice is small, muffled against his neck. “Can I still be the big spoon tonight?”

((Thank you for reading! Didya catch the atla reference? :D I just couldn’t help myself~ I’ve got two braincells rn—one of them is for obey me and the other is for atla. Dual wielding hyperfixations at it's finest. likes and comments are v appreciated 🥺👉👈 ))

His laugh is the second sweetest thing you’ve ever heard—the first being the totally betrayed gasp that bursts past his lips when you blow a big fat raspberry into his neck.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #swd obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me drabble #obey me fanfic #obey me! shall we date?#gnocchiwrites #obey me headcanons

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belovedbangtan · 4 years

Text

Simple Things | jjk

🅁🄴🅀🅄🄴🅂🅃🄴🄳

||| Masterlist |||

𝙿𝙰𝙸𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶: Boyfriend!Jungkook x Reader

𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳 𝙲𝙾𝚄𝙽𝚃: 3.5k

𝚂𝚄𝙼𝙼𝙰𝚁𝚈: Based on the song Simple Things by Miguel! Highly recommend listening to the song before reading! (song fic request are my FAV, give me more please!?)

𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶𝚂: Weed Smoking, Language, Sexual Content: grinding, teasing, nipple play, choking, unprotected sex (be safe!), Dom!jk, Sub!Reader if you squint, After care? Its also really fucking cute and fluffy.

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A cloud of smoke hung in the air, as you press the joint to your lips. Inhaling deeply, feeling the familiar burn in your throat. Some new r&b track playing softly in the background. Jungkook’s long legs resting comfortably over your lap, you pass him the joint. He sets his phone to the side to sit up and take it from you. As mundane as it sounds, this had become somewhat comfortable for the two of you. He blows the smoke out, passing it back for you to finish. Placing the remainder in the ashtray as Jungkook starts laughing hysterically, his infamous cackle bouncing off the walls; easily one of your favorite sounds.

“This video was from last year, watch this…” He sits up bringing the phone close to your face. You watch an extremely drunk Jimin dancing chaotically in the middle of a crowded club. The phone pans to the VIP section, and Taehyung hyping him up. You don’t miss the obnoxiously attractive women that crowd the same area. Your eyes widen and you start to laugh too. It reminded you of when you and Jungkook had first started dating. For the first few months, every weekend was spent with your friends in overcrowded clubs. Fun times, no doubt, but you were happy with your new normal.

Jungkook dismisses himself to the kitchen, mumbling something about having the munchies. You giggle at your predictable boyfriend, extending your legs into the spot where he was laying. Pulling up Snap Chat on your phone, not surprised to see Jimin and Taehyung’s stories. Almost as if they were trying to replicate the memory Jungkook just showed you from a year ago. Drunk as hell, beautiful women, VIP section, it was something to envy from the outside looking in.

You laugh to yourself, thinking back on your own memories. At the start of your relationship, seven months ago, it was much different. Frequently bar hopping with friends whenever we were able to. Once we discovered that we preferred just being in each other’s company, the partying slowly came to an end. You were happy with that though. You loved smoking and hanging out with your best friend, who also happened to be your boyfriend. You find yourself replaying Jimin and Taehyungs story, until you click on Jungkook’s; nothing. Peaking behind you to see him finishing off an apple, you start to think.

You were comfortable with spending your nights like this. Having moved in with each other a month ago, you loved being able to spend your free nights together. Watching a movie, cuddled up on the couch, listening to music, experimenting with food. Whatever you did, it made you happy. This was the first time you wondered if maybe he felt different than you. What if he wants to go out but doesn’t say anything because he knows how much you love staying home?

You get up from your spot on the couch, a stolen pair of Jungkook’s sweatpants hanging around your hips, while his t-shirt hides all your curves. He’s singing to the soft sounds coming from the speaker, and he looks so ethereal. His long bouncy waves, floating back and forth over his eyes; always made you want to brush his hair back. His outfit matching yours since you were wearing his clothes. The grey sweatpants looking sexier on him than on you, although he would argue that statement.

You hop onto the countertop letting your legs hang over, “Do you want to go out?” you blurt out, attempting to sound nonchalant.

He pauses, quickly turning to look at you. His face screwing up with confusion, “What? Like… tonight?”

You press your lips into a hard line nodding at him, which only makes him look more confused.

“Right now? You want to go out?” He asks you again to confirm as he slots himself in between your legs. He wraps his arms around your waist, letting his thumbs slide against the inside of your waist band.

“I mean, if you want to. I’m good with whatever,” You murmur, still attempting to be nonchalant.

“Well… if you don’t want to go out… why would I?” He giggles softly before pressing his lips to your nose.

“I thought maybe you’d want to party with Jimin and Tae, it’s been awhile since we’ve been out,” you try explaining simply.

He tilts his head to the side, seeing straight through your bullshit.

“Actually, I do wanna go somewhere,” He starts, pulling back and walking over to where our shoes are laying, “walk to the grocery store with me, we have like no food.”

You roll your eyes but you follow his lead slipping your shoes on. The grocery store was in walking distance, which was quite dangerous when you both had the munchies.

The wind is harsh but overall, the night is beautiful. The street is on the quieter side since its late into the night. Jungkook pulls your hand out of your hoodie and laces his fingers with yours before putting both into his hoodie. You look up to see him already smiling down at you.

“Baby, why did you ask me to go out tonight, honestly?” his voice is soft and laced with curiosity.

You sigh. You try not to feel insecure, but it was hard with him. He was perfect in your eyes, and you were… well, you weren’t perfect by any means. You constantly wondered if he would want something more, something that you couldn’t offer him. What if he needed more adventure or someone that was in his league? The bottom line was, you knew there was someone out there that could give him that; and it intimidated you.

“I don’t know, it’s just been awhile since we’ve gone out.” You tell him, although its true you know you’re lying to him.

“But you didn’t want to go out, so what would you have done if I had said yes?” He chuckles raising his brows to you.

“I would have gone, I just want to make you happy,” You look up to him and smile.

“I am happy. Right here, with you,” He leans down and kisses your cheek, ”You know that right?”

You force a smile and nod, and he seems to pick up on your hesitation, but he lets it go for now.

Your cloudy eyes scan over the chip section, while Jungkook goes to a different isle to pick out ice cream. Decision making wasn’t your strong suit, so he found you in the same isle 5 minutes later still debating.

“Okay, like spicy or cheesy? You know I hate making decisions!” You pout holding up the two bags.

He chuckles coming closer to see what the options are, “For you, my lady,” He says taking both bags from your hands and putting them in the cart. You start to giggle, reaching out to hug him.

You walk through a few more isles deciding you want to get some noodles for an actual meal. You’re debating on what kind to get, when he freezes in the middle of the conversation. Instantly you stop talking wondering what the hell has your boyfriend’s attention.

Within a few seconds you know, “Oh, if that’s what it takes to learn that sweet heart of yours,” Jungkook starts singing to you in the middle of the isle. His newfound love for the song 10,000 hours was intense, he was constantly singing it to you. Your eyes widen and you start to giggle, taking his hand when he holds it out to you. He spins you into him still singing incredibly loud for a grocery store. His pulls you in and you sway to the music, still unable to control your laughing. You back away from him and you start doing ‘tik-tok’ dance moves to the pop song, Jungkook’s voice cracks as he starts to laugh at you. Within seconds he’s right there with you mimicking your dance moves, you’re both dying from laughter.

You jump when you turn around to see an old couple watching you and giggling.

“Oh my gosh, we’re so sorry!” You start laughing moving the cart out of the way while Jungkook quickly picks up the noodles and throws them into the cart.

“Please don’t apologize, you remind us of when we were younger,” The old man starts, looking at this wife adoringly, “It’s something special, to be in love with your best friend!”

You and Jungkook’s cheeks are burning red, as you hear the sweet compliment.

“It really is,” Jungkook agrees softly before looking at you, eyes filled with the same adoration as the old man.

You finally check out and begin your trek home, Jungkook insisting on carrying all the bags if you feed him some gummy bears. His left arm hangs around your shoulder while you alternate giving him a gummy bear, then yourself.

“Those were some pretty sweet moves back there,” he giggles

You start to laugh again shrugging your shoulders, “Yeah… yours were alright,” you mock. Jungkook gasps sarcastically.

“If I didn’t have this bag of food, I would dance battle you right here!”

“You mean… you would lose a dance battle right here?” You say confidently, before your start to giggle. You slowly look up at him only to see him glaring down at you jokingly, you reach up pressing a red gummy to his lips. You can’t help the belly laugh when he quickly nips the gummy out of your fingers nearly biting you.

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Finally, back home, he made the noodles as soon as you stepped into the house. Both of you singing loud to the music that plays in the background. You switch back and forth between both bags of chips, doing a happy dance when the flavors hit your tongue. His giggle pulls you from your food daze.

“Why are you laughing at me!” You push your lips out pouting as you crunch.

“Your little food dance, it’s one of my favorite things you do,” He imitates you with your little butt wiggle you do while he brings his noodles to his mouth.

“That’s not it,” you giggle showing him what you actually do, “you have to move your shoulders too!” You demonstrate taking a bite of your own noodles.

“Why are you so cute?” He giggles. You shrug cutely before poking your cheeks with your fingers. When you finish eating, he takes your bowls to the sink, and you decide to make your way over to his side of the counter. He turns around after washing the two dishes. You lean into his chest and he wraps his arms around your shoulders, leaning forward to take in the clean smell of your hair before kissing the top of your head multiple times.

He tugs at your chin so you’re looking up at him. He brushes his thumb over your cheekbone, lightly pushing your hair behind your ear, “You seem more like yourself now,” He presses his lips to yours lightly.

“What do you mean?” You ask, pushing yourself up so you can steal another kiss.

“Earlier, you asking to go out. I’m still confused about that…” He grazes his thumb over your bottom lip before looking into your eyes. You could tell that a part of him was worried. You sigh, knowing that it was out of character for you.

“So… maybe I thought that you wanted to be out partying,“ you try to pull back but his arms are around you tight, “Like Tae and Jimin are, with all of those beautiful women.”

His brows nit together as he processes your words, “Why did you think that?”

You take a deep breath deciding to tell him about your frequent insecurities. All of your fears and doubts about your perfect relationship, you told him all of them. He listened closely with his arms secure around you the whole time, his grip never faltering.

“Just… you know, I want to make sure you’re happy with me, so you don’t want to find someone who can make you happier,” you mumble, his face melts with the last sentence.

“Baby,” Its all he says, shaking his head slightly, “You make me, so happy. So happy sometimes that I wonder if this is real.”

“You’re so perfect for me. You know, a free-spirit, with a wild heart,” He sighs deeply cupping your cheeks in his hands, “I just want someone real, someone true.” He murmurs pressing his lips to yours again. He pulls back slightly before leaning in to hover just above your ear, “I need you to smoke with me baby.”

You smile, letting him pull you to the couch. He sits in the corner of the couch pulling you close to him, while he lights the joint that sits on his lips. Inhaling deeply before passing it to you. You both finish it off, and before you know it you’re laughing about who knows what. He pulls you onto his lap, you set your legs on both sides of his. Your body feels warm, maybe it’s because of high, or maybe its because of how much you love him.

His eyes are heavy as he stares up at you his fingers finding their way beneath the loose t-shirt on your body, “Are you happy with me?” He asks out of nowhere, “is there anything I could do to make you happier?”

You take a deep breath, the THC making it hard for you to think too deeply about the answer. You didn’t need to think hard because it was simple, you were happy.

“I just want the simple things,” You say quietly leaning forward to capture his lips in yours, “Someone to smoke with me, laugh with me, lay with me,” You kiss him between each phrase, you pull back to make sure he has your attention, “I just want you.”

He smiles big, taking his hand and wrapping it around the back of your neck to pull you close to him. You brace yourself against his chest, noticing the way his heart feels like it might beat out of his chest. His lips attach to yours but this time it’s needy. He presses into them letting his tongue dance along your lower lip. You feel him start to harden beneath you, and you can’t stop yourself from grinding down onto him. The moan that finds its way from his mouth to yours makes your body weak.

He pulls you closer to him, bringing himself forward on the couch. You wrap your legs around his waist, as he gently pulls his t-shirt from your body. Palming at your tits as soon as his eyes hit them. You throw your head back and he leans forward to leave love bites on the column of your throat. You reach forward to wrap your arms around his shoulders, running your fingers through his hair; tugging softly. He pulls you impossibly closer, your clothed heat pressed against his hard on. You moan into his mouth when he starts to kiss you again. Bucking your hips into him, he pulls back and brings his lips to your sensitive nipples. Massaging your left while his tongue teases the right, then switching. His hand slides up to your throat and your eyes finally meet his blown-out pupils, full of lust and love. His fingers tighten around your throat while he holds you close to his body with his other arm. He turns you both, leaning you back until your laying flat on the couch. His hand still firm around your throat, he leans forward to kiss you again; pressing his hard on into your groin making you whine.

He smiles before nipping at your neck, still pressing himself into where you need him the most. The friction is making you crazy and he knows it, “Baby…” you whimper and he lets out a quiet laugh into your skin. He moves down your body slowly, leaving hickeys in his path, “What baby? What do you need?” He coos, instantly snapping his hips into yours. You throw your head back whining again, “Come on princess, use your words,” He laughs again before sucking the skin of your thigh into his mouth. The purple mark is fresh compared to the dull ones from the nights previous. It’s like it’s his own private masterpiece, he runs his thumb over it before sitting up between your legs. He looks down at you and cocks his head, your bottom lip comfortably in-between your teeth. His fingers slide under the band of your sweatpants and he starts to pull them from your legs antagonizing slow. You wiggle your legs trying to speed up the process, only making him slow down even more.

“Mm no panties?” He licks his lips as notices how wet you are, ”Tell me what you want baby,” He says again, pulling the sweatpants from his own legs.

“I want you to fuck me, Kookie.” You lean forward reaching out for his hard cock, but he wraps his hands around your wrist. Pushing them into the couch, as he hovers over your body. He looks down at you, as the tip of his cock teases your clit. Your eyes are drawn to the way the veins in his biceps are popping out, then to the way his abs flex each time he thrust forward, “Please.” You beg finally meeting his eyes, and they seem to soften at your magic word.

Reaching down he lines himself up then slides inside of you torturously slow. Both of you inhaling deeply when he bottoms out and stops. Something you both loved the feeling of in general, but when you were high it was comparable to euphoria.

“You feel so fucking tight for me princess,” He moans pulling back, dragging his cock against your walls. You want to respond but the words hang on your lips, all you can formulate is whimper. Leaning forward on his forearms on each side of your head, he nudges your face to the side. Letting his teeth graze the shell of your ear. The sound of his moans and whimpers was enough to through you over the edge. He feels it when you start to tighten around him, his teeth finding the juncture of your shoulder and neck. Pressing his lips delicately before he starts to suck hard.

“I-Im so close, please,” You start to beg, you don’t know what you’re begging for exactly, but you have a feeling that he does. He quickens his pace, leaning up and pressing your thighs further apart. He takes his thumb to his mouth, collecting his spit before rubbing it into your clit with the perfect amount of pressure. Your hips start to buck up into his thrust, having a mind of their own. He takes it upon himself to pull your hips up to his, the new position making your body react instantly.

“Right there! Oh fuck, right there Kookie!” You yell out, warmth spreading through your body from your toes to your fingertips. The familiar tight feeling in your abdomen tells you that your close.

“Fuck princess, cum with me!” he moans and just like that your body starts to shake. An orgasm hitting you like a semi, the warmth that was running through your veins turns into something new. He holds your legs still, spilling himself inside of you. The feeling alone makes you feel like you could cum again. He thrust inside you a few more times, each time your body spasming.

He pulls out admiring the way his cum drips from you, taking his fingers and pushing it back inside of you. You spasm at the action, making him giggle, “You came so hard, didn’t you princess?” He asks you, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips before he starts to get up to find something to clean you with. You nod, grabbing his hand quickly before he gets too far. He looks down at you, “Lay with me, baby.”

He pauses and smiles down at you before squeezing himself onto the couch next to you, “You’re still messy,” he says.

“I don’t care, I need you close right now,” You explain before burying your head into his chest. You feel his chest rock as he laughs at how fucked out you are. It didn’t happen every time but, sometimes he fucked you so good that you felt emotional afterwards. You felt like the luckiest girl in the world, and you just wanted him to hold you. He wraps his arms around you, massaging your scalp with his fingertips.

“I love you so much, baby.” He says softly.

You hum into his chest, “Love you too.”

After about an hour of naked cuddling, you ask him if he wants to take a shower. He instantly perks up, wrapping you in his arms carrying you to the shower.

“If you think I would ever choose a night out over a night like this, you’re insane.”

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𝙰/𝙽: 𝙻𝚎𝚝 𝚖𝚎 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔! 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚜, 𝚒 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚎𝚎𝚎𝚎 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎!

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#bts #bts smut #bts fluff #jungkook #bts jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jeonguk #jeonguk x reader #jeonguk fanfiction #jeonguk smut

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icollectyoursins · 3 years

Text

DIO x Small S/O NSFW

Anon asked for “Spicy dio ! Spicy dio!! Love the vampire man!”

Man, I think I’m good at writing smut, and then I do dialogue and I just... no think. brain empty. What character? What words? If there are any tips people have for staying in character with dialogue specifically besides watching videos of quotes from the PS2 game, let me know!

Dio loves to make sure his little pet is nice and full whenever he’s gone. Not much to it. Except that he doesn’t like to waste a single drop, doing what he can to keep you from... leaking.

Have a character, but no idea? Prompt list here!

Looking for more? Master post here!

WARNINGS: Butt plugs, size kink, blowjobs, anal, anal creampie, I don’t know what it’s called but using a butt plug to keep cum inside the reader, a brief appearance from the World.

Word Count: 1652

You shifted your legs to feel more comfortable with the protrusion, then felt a small trickle down your leg. Your face turned bright red. That was what he used it for. To keep you full of his seed. To make sure you knew you belonged to him and no one else. You shifted back to keep the rest of it in. You couldn't imagine what he would do if he found out some of it got out.

You carefully bent over the sink to stretch out a bit as you waited for the shower to get hot, trying your best not to hurt your already sore muscles which proved harder than expected. Not to mention the large plug in your ass, rubbing against your walls, reminding you of what happened last night. And the night before that, and the night before that. Your love/Lord, Dio had purchased a new toy for you a few days ago. He hasn't stopped using it since. Your poor plucker felt so used, tight from overstimulation and yet loose from his cock. What was he using it for? Anyone else would think it was to keep you like this which, although wasn't entirely untrue, wasn't its purpose.

You were about to reach for something to clean with when the door opened. Dio stood completely bare, hand still resting on the handle. There was a spot of blood on his lip and a hungry look in his eyes. He looked at what you were doing then sighed. Slow, methodical steps made their was towards you. God, you hoped today wasn't the say he got rid of you. You had been so good for him recently and based on the past few days, you were almost sure he wasn't done with you yet.

He laughed under his breath, cupping your cheek with his hand, claws just barely grazing your skin. You looked up at him, craning your neck, silently pleading for your life which only made him laugh more. He bent down to kiss your forehead, then moved behind you. A clawed finger was gently drawn down your back to where the plug sat. He made eye contact with you in the mirror before gently pulling on it making you moan, instinctively leaning forward. You were far too used to him coming up behind you like this, knowing what would eventually come next.

Dio was amused by how obedient you were as well as the squelch of the plug meeting with his cum in your ass. “Do you want me to fill you, (Y/N)?” The hand that was curled around your face tangled itself into your hair, yanking back. You winced, letting out a small whine.

“Yes, my love,” you said, knowing a simple ‘mhmm’ wouldn’t be enough for him and the sooner he fucked you, the sooner you could get into your shower. He let go of you, walking to the shower then turning off the water; a very clear hint that this wasn’t going to be your typical quickie. Not that you were surprised, he was usually like this after he fed on some poor soul (who thankfully wasn’t you).

He got back into position, large hands wrapping around your waist before his pelvis into your ass, catching the gem on the plug, lifting it up slightly. This caused more of his seed to drip out of you. He let out throaty chuckle, eyes getting dark. You were quickly turned around and pushed to your knees, face flush with the tip of his flaccid cock. The thing in your ass shifted, making you shudder.

You locked eyes with him again, taking the tip of his length in your mouth, sucking intently, tongue catching the bottom on every pull of your lips. Gradually, he got harder in your mouth. Your jaw was starting to get tired by the time he was fully hard, but you knew that he would do whatever he wanted regardless of how you felt, though showing you were enthusiastic to get your beloved lord off would make whatever he did next less severe. You stood up on your knees to fully appreciate his cock, licking from base to tip then slipping as much as you could fit in your mouth.

You had gotten about three inches of the full twelve when he grabbed the back of your head, pulling you down onto him more. Three became four, then five, six, seven full inches. Then, you felt something teasing the bulge in your ass, pulling on the end of it, then pushing it back in. The World, controlled by Dio of course, was making sure your ass was good and ready for his cock. You moaned around him, pushing back in to the plug. Slowly, your ass was fucked, the seamen from before acting as lubricant, making a sloshing sound that was stomach turning.

Once Dio was satisfied with how hard you made him, he order you to stand up, making the World disappear. For now. He turned you around so your body was braced against the vanity again. You could see the maniacal grin in the mirror as he slowly pulled the plug out from you. It was hard to not moan at the stretch. It seemed to go on forever, slowly getting bigger before it got smaller. You had thought it was done, but then he pushed it back in. He used his free hand to pin you down while you were teased relentlessly. He knew you were getting close, moans getting louder and more free.

Finally, he pulled the plug out, tossing it aside. Large, warm hands gripped your waist as he lifted your small form with ease. He aligned himself with you quickly then thrust into your ass, relishing how little you resisted him. You mewled and keened, feet dangling off the ground as he fit his seemingly endless length in you. His balls eventually slapped against your lower regions, the tip of his cock making your stomach bulge just slightly. You were sure if he saw it, he would go feral.

He pulled back, leaving just the tip in before thrusting in again. You screamed out his name which only egged him on more. He was quick to pick up the pace, lifting your up more to get a better angle to fuck your insides. Your arms scrambled to find something to hold on to, something that would provide some resistance so he wouldn’t have to do all the work.

One arm wrapped itself around your waist, while the other reached for behind your knee. He lifted you up, giving you a quick bounce on his cock while his other hand went to your other knee, keeping you in the prone position. Your hands found their way to his hair, gripping onto him while he used your momentum to properly fuck your ass.

Screams fell freely from your mouth. This new position made everything feel so much better, so much deeper. You were getting close, you only hoped that he was too. Dio growled in your ear, teeth raking the shell of your ear before he spoke.

“What a good little pet. Do you want me to fill you? Tell me.” He purred. Through screams and breaths, you found it hard to speak, but somehow managed to tell him what he wanted.

“Please, my lord. Please fill me. Make me swell.” He laughed coldly. You knew full well that this wasn’t the right hole for becoming pregnant, but you also knew how much he came, especially now with this new toy able to keep you full. His thrusts became more pleasing, dragging through your insides blissfully. With a loud, broken scream, you came, white flashing across your vision. You were barely aware of him bending you over onto the ground.

Slowly, he pulled out of you, carefully as to not spill too much seed, though, he would likely find someone to lick it up for him while you got him off some other way later on. When the tip was the only thing in you, he started pushing the plug in as well. With practiced hands, he pulled out, then filled your ass with the plug. You would never feel empty while he was around, he’d made sure of that. Soon, he would just keep you pinned to the bed, legs spread for him until the day you died.

Now on your knees, plump ass flush against his pelvis, he wrapped his arms around your neck, pulling you flush against him. You were helpless as he fucked into your limp, fucked out body. His release came quickly afterwards, hot seed spilling into you and flowing out the sides where his cock rested. Soon you felt a shift in you then became aware of the tip of the butt plug resting against your cheeks. He has stopped time to grab it from where he tossed it.

Dio lifted your small, limp body easily, holding you like a child as he walked to the shower, turning on the water. He couldn’t help the smile that had been spread over his face the entire time. You were so good for him, perhaps he should find you some other present to keep you full and needy. Something that required batteries.

While in the shower, he gently cleaned the sweat off your body, groping your ass to keep you conscious. You were set on your feet, gradually becoming more aware of your surroundings as his tipped your head up to him, expecting the same kindness he showed you. Calmly, you kissed his hands while getting to work cleaning whatever gunk he had on him from before he walked in.

There was something about basking in your adoration, you devotion to him that made his feel like a child again, winning a rugby match. Nothing in this world that would ever take you away from him.

#kinda wholesome kinda dark if you read into it #Dio not sfw #dio n/s/f/w #dio x reader not sfw #dio x reader n/s/f/w #dio prompts

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jstlikemagic · 4 years

Text

nsfw alphabet: jeff wittek

hiya everyone! so someone had asked if i could go in-depth on my bdsm breakdown of jeff but i had already gone through the acronym. SO! i remembered that the nsfw alphabet existed and thought it’d be put to great use on this blog. please reblog or like if you enjoyed! :)

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

jeff is definitely very caring after sex. if he knew he pushed you and went a little too rough on you, i could 100% see him getting an ice pack for your welts or putting some cream on them just to make sure you’re okay. i also feel like after sex, he would check in to see if you enjoyed yourself because he believes he has to have a top performance. imagine he went to rough on you and you were having trouble walking, so he picks you up bridal style and carries you to the bathroom to make sure you pee (no uti’s in this bitch) and to make sure you’re cared for. then he’d carry you back to bed and tuck you in:,)

b = body part (their favorite body part of their partner’s)

i believe jeff is an ass guy. some may debate on this BUT even if you don’t have the thiccest of the thiccy, he would love it regardless. with or without the sex, he seems like the type to always have his hands on your ass no matter what. doing dishes? his hands smack your ass. y’all are kissing? his hands are on your ass. if you’re riding him, he would most definitely guide you with his hands on your probably already bright red cheeks. / if you wanna read a little bit more about this, read my bdsm breakdown!

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he’d def want to finish on your ass or all over your tits. if he’s fucking you doggystyle and is about to come, he’d pull out and release his cum all over your ass. if he was finishing while y’all were in missionary, he’d instruct you to sit up on your knees and push your tits together. you’d put your tongue out just to see if you’d get a little taste of his cum and he’d jack himself off and aim at your tits.

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

sometimes he’d like to pick fights with you because he knew the makeup sex would be BOMB AF. or even if y’all didn’t make up, the angry sex would be so rough and fulfilling. he’d love to have the chance to wrap his hand around your throat or manhandle you but you didn’t mind it at all because it was CONSENSUAL and you knew he wouldn’t push the boundary.

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

i’d say he’s very experienced. he lost his virginity at the age of 12 so he’s had about 18 years of practice. plus his last girlfriend is spicy as hell so i wouldn’t surprised if they fucked all the time or had $picy sex :)

f = favorite position (this goes without saying)

doggy.

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

not really. not to say y’all would never be goofy but i’ve always thought that like if something went wrong during sex, you would laugh it off and he’d get embarrassed. imagine you and the vlog squad are taking a trip in an rv. so you and jeff are trying to get it on in the bunks, i could 100% see him fucking hit his head off the top bunk and you’re just laughing his ass off and he keeps on saying that it isn’t funny and to shut the fuck up lol

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

he is 100% a ken doll down there. he cares a lot about his image so i’m sure he’s well maintained under there.

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

“as far as making love, i can see him as extremely passionate but soft at the same time? like i feel like he would be soft in the way of talking to you. like i can imagine him gassing you up and just calling you beautiful and telling you how much he loves your certain features. like he’d just be a complete softie! his strokes would 100% send it home and he’d probably be gripping the headboard while thrusting into you passionately.“ (taken from one of my blurbs)

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

if you went on a business trip or a vacation, he is def relying on his hand. if you’re around, i can’t see him doing it often. maybe you had somewhere to be and he caught a glimpse of you and got horny. so while you’re gone, he decides to masturbate and you realize that you left something. so you walk back to the apartment and nerf comes tapping to you. hearing moans coming from the bedroom, you turn to nerf and say ”hey nerf, what is daddy doing?” you inch closer to the door and the moans become more prominent. slowly opening the door, you’re met with a naked jeff, abs well defined, and his hair sticking to his forehead due to all the sweat. “woah woah woah, y/n, what are ya doin’?” he’d panic. getting all shy, you’d tell him to continue and pretend you’re not even there as you search for the item you left behind lol

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

“some kinks that i see jeff would have are: double penetration, dirty talk/degradation, and candle wax play. when it comes to double penetration, i don’t mean in the typical way of two people filling both holes. i don’t think jeff would want to share his partner so i envision more of his partner (who has a vagina) wearing a butt plug while he fucks his partner’s vagina. another kink we can explore is dirty talk with degradation. just like david, i can see him saying stuff like ‘can you take daddy’s cock like a good girl?’ (hehe daddy kink) and ‘do you like it when daddy fills your holes like the slut you are?’ dirty stuff like that ya kno?“ (taken from one of my blurbs)

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

it depends. if y’all are at a hotel for example (like the one in miami), it’s the balcony. i could see him fucking you from behind while pulling your hair and nipping at your neck. if it’s a casual day in the life; the bed, the couch, or maybe even the barber chair? when i think about having sex in the chair, i think of his partner first giving him head while he’s sitting in the chair, then transitioning to riding him in the chair, and maybe you’re holding onto the arms of the check and fucks you from the back. :,)

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

what turns jeff on? every part of your being. as corny as it sounds, he seems like you could just make a funny joke and everyone laughing would turn him on????? that maybe sounds weird but he’d be so into you that something as simple as that could get him going. also when he catches you dancing at a party and just exuding confidence all over the place!

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

probably roleplay and every that’s too taboo. i could see him not enjoying roleplay because he’d think it’s “too cheesy”

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

i believe he prefers to receive other than give. and no one come for my neck for saying that. it doesn’t make him selfish because his stroke games seems a1.

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

it depends. if y’all are making love, it’s slow and sensual. if it’s a hookup or just fucking, y’all are going fast and rough. (here’s a blurb where i talk about both of these)

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

they wouldn’t happen often but if you did it, it was in a public place. i can totally see jeff and his partner hooking up really quick in david’s bathroom during a party because y’all literally couldn’t wait till y’all got home. other than that, i feel like he really wouldn’t like to rushed so quickies didn’t happy as often as with someone like david.

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

i think he’s down to experiment but it depends. i don’t see him as OUTRAGEOUSLY kinky but say one night you’re like “hey wanna try anal?” he might be hesitant at first but try it after you beg him. i feel like if it’s what his partner wants, he’ll do it because he’s a sucker for them.

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

he’s a pretty healthy guy so i’d say three rounds TOPS. and as far as how long does he last? i’d say 30-45 minutes!

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

the only toy i could envision him wanting to try on you is a butt plug. due to the fact i’ve stated that i think he’s an ass guy, i think he would go nuts to see his princess with a pink and glitter butt plug in all its glory. :,)

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

i don’t think he’s into teasing that much during sex. i think he’s clear, concise and to the point. however, i believe he’d be the biggest tease before sex. like imagine sitting on his lap in david’s tesla after leaving the club. and his hands are just stroking the inner part of thighs and he’d lean into your ear and say something like “can’t wait till we get home mmmm-” and then kiss your neck

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

he’s definitely loud. matt king said he was loud when he masturbates and i believe it. i feel like he has more breathy moans and low moans???? definitely a grunter as well

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he’s definitely against threesomes with a male partner. he may be willing to share you with a female friend but i could see him still getting jealous over sharing you. if there was a threesome with you and another woman, he would be the one to dictate the situation. like telling you two to kiss and or feel each other’s tits or get the other woman off.

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

this has been a topic of discussion many of times on my blog but i’ve come to the conclusion; he may not be thick but he’s long.

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

he definitely has a high sex drive. y’all remember that jeff’s barbershop episode when matt said he could hear jeff masturbate a lot? joke or not, i believe it. due to his flirty nature as well, i could see him definitely down to fuck 24/7.

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

i feel like he would knock tf out. this guy gets up early in the morning and powers throughout the day so if y’all have sex late at night, he’s knocked. but if it’s early in the mornings, that’s just one way for him to start the day. he would probably lay in bed for like 30 minutes then take a shower and start his day.

#jeff wittek smut #jeff wittex imagines #jeff wittek blurbs #jeff wittek x reader #vlog squad smut #vlog squad imagines #vlog squad blurbs

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infinitesimal-blossoms · 4 years

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"Oh come on-- Don't eat it yet! You can have some if he decides to give you some. Which--"

Soft grunting noises reaches his ears, prompting him to stir in his sleep. Mind still muddled and slow from his long slumber through the night, his drowsy eyes takes in the sight of his bedside table, the digital clock on top of it offering a low but comforting light.

" ---he will definitely give you some! So come onnn-- "

A sound of a doorknob turning reaches his ears and he lets out a soft groan. He's unwilling to sit up but he's fairly sure that the light commotion is happening in front of his door. This means that with the doorknob turning, he will have at least two guests barging in on him.

True to his thoughts, his bedroom door slowly opens, causing a steady stream of light to enter his dimly lit room. It is accompanied by two humanlike silhouettes -- one from an actual human being and another from a very tall demon, with a large hand holding onto what seems to be a large plate of deliciously smelling pancakes stacked haphazardly on top of each other and his other hand gripping a short wooden table.

The human girl giggles, giving him a short wave with her free hand. Her other hand is holding onto a mug, its contents hot and sending a continuous stream of vapor into the air.

"Hello. I figured it's about time for you to wake up. Beel here almost ate the pancakes we made so I had to follow him here to make sure that the food reaches you. "

The demon releases a soft huff, his lips pursed together, forming a very subtle pout. Carefully, and making sure he's not inhaling any of the food, he places the wooden table down on the human male's bed before proceeding to place the plate of food on top of it.

"I tried my best, Rui. It just smells so good. I didn't eat anything in the end anyway."

Rui giggles and places the steaming mug on the space beside the plate of pancakes. With a grin, she gently nudges Beel closer to the bed, tapping his butt playfully twice. At the sound of surprise that comes out from the demon’s mouth, she laughs happily, practically skipping to the side of the bed.

“So.. did you look at the date and time, precious sunshine? It’s your day today! So Beel and I decided to go and get you something for breakfast. It was an experience, trying to make sure Beel doesn’t eat anything-”

“And I tried my best!”

“ -- And yes, he managed to not eat even a small crumb from those pancakes. He told me that he’d like to eat breakfast with you. So here we are.”

She smiles, leaning her body down to give Milan a tight and warm hug, squeezing him once before letting go. “I’ll spend some time with you later. For now, Beel will get you all to himself. Or well- you’ll get him all for yourself. Enjoy your breakfast!”

She leans in, cupping one of her cheeks as she moves her lips close to Milan’s ear, whispering softly to her friend.. “A spicy breakfast or a sweet one? It’s all up to you.”

With a wink, she walks out of the room with a giggle, closing the room behind her. There’s a click as the doorknob locks by itself (she practiced some good door-locking magic in preparation) And immediately, the room is swallowed by silence.

Beelzebub looks at Milan with a soft smile, taking it upon himself to sit down beside him. His large hands reach forward to gently cup the humans cheeks, his thumbs caressing the soft skin. Leaning in, the demon slowly closed his eyes, pressing his lips against MIlan’s soft ones for a few seconds. It wasn’t anything sensual-- it was innocent, but full of affection. When the gluttonous demons pulls away, his eyes are fixed completely on the human in front of him, his gaze showing nothing but adoration.

“Happy Birthday, Milan. I wish you a lot of happiness, and i’m grateful that you are here for me to be able to hold like this. It’s not much but we made you some pancakes for breakfast and we can go and go out later on a date? We can walk around and eat so much more food-”

His stomach growls and the sound made him pause. Smiling sheepishly, he pulls away just a bit so he can gently rub his stomach.

“Before planning what to do later.. Shall we go and eat?”

+++++++++

YO YO YO YO YO

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUNSHINE! ✨ @minniboe ✨

I know this isn’t much but I hope you liked it. Ehe.

BONUS:

A sketch of Beel urging you to finish getting ready so you can go on that date. haha. ❤️

#minniboe #HAPPY BDAY

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overdrivels · 3 years

Text

Deleted TWtaH Scenes

[Original opening sequence for chapter 1]

The kitchen once held no less than twenty cooks at a time back in its hay-day at peak hours, and at least four during downtimes.

Now, there was no need for that many cooks, however. There were less agents this time, less funds which meant less provisions, and a dejected look inside the nearest fridge yielded even less ingredients that can contribute to a coherent dish.

The only fitting solution was the age-old family-friendly Overwatch (and Blackwatch, of course) version of Russian roulette: the "Surprise Menu".

The small pot of translucent slop bubbled gently by its lonesome atop a gleaming stove meant for the meals of thirty agents of varying tastes.

A ‘ping’ notified you that an order was placed. A quick glance at the name (Agent McCree) already had your hands grabbing for cabinet doors and bowls.

McCree always ordered from the regular menu, even when it contained things that he would leave untouched (like the octopus salad four days ago) or when it would have nothing he liked to eat (he leaves everything half eaten those days, except the bread—he usually asks for seconds regardless of the type).

The previous Commander Gabriel Reyes had forced him to choke down anything that was being served on the "Surprise Menu" that day for being a little shit. Jesse McCree can now eat anything, but the grimace on his face made it clear he would rather not.

Soldier 76’s ratio of “Surprise Menu” to “regular menu” was fairly even. He would take the tray and disappear for several short minutes before returning the tray, completely devoid of any traces of food. You were never sure if he ate all of it or if he has just eaten a little and chucked the rest, though a check of the base's garbage disposals just made you then wonder if he actually flushed the food down a toilet somewhere.

"Thanks, it was good," he would say when returning his tray. Only ever compliments. "Better than sewer rats," he had once said. Though, he did once admit the chicken was too spicy in one of your dishes.

D.Va bristled at the suggestion and demanded for more spice immediately after.

You endeavored to warn 76 of spicy dishes on the Surprise Menu and to find ways of adding more flavor to those of D.Va's.

The plastic tray echoed a finality against the window counter that bounced off the far away kitchen walls and rung in your ears.

You flip through the worn list hanging by the refrigerator nearest you.

Foods must be similar in portion.

Foods must be similar in consistency.

Foods of different color cannot be next to each other.

Foods of different temperatures cannot be next to each other—

You didn't even hear the doors to the cafeteria swing open.

Favorites (at least one for every meal):

Curry with soft beans (ABSOLUTELY no hard solids, no half-cooked beans. Chili is not acceptable substitute!!) Potatoes (plain) Extra short grain rice (extra water) Basmati rice (normal water)

**When cooking rice, wash four times (taste is noticeable otherwise)

A ‘ding’ of the overhead monitor alerted you that someone had placed an order.

Zenyatta did not eat, and Genji's limit was a cup of tea half the size of his fist and a sweet, but they enjoyed sitting near the kitchen window to speak with flashes of your hands and the clinking dishes set in front of them, but never for them.

[Deleted scene of Chef fighting back against Talon]

The video plays.

A team of six sweeps through the cafeteria, and immediately, he sees the issue which has the team swarming the kitchen door and the service window.

The lights were on.

Even though he knows of your fate, he couldn’t help but feel a tinge of fear grasping at his chest. They split up into two teams. One checks the window–they signal to the other team around the corner, and they signal back, guns at the ready.

He can see them count down with each wave of their hand.

One.

Two.

Three–

Hanzo expected that when it happened, you’d walk out daintily, the same way you put down a tray noiselessly, the same way your fingers touch the marble service window, the same way you touch your fingertips together when in thought, the same way you gesture–all soft flourishes and curling fingers.

But no.

You stride out through the double doors like a storm, head ducked down to avoid any deviant bullets, armed with only a large soup ladle made to handle a meal fit for five and a deep furrow in your brow with a scowl to match.

And then you begin to swing. Not wildly, but small, precise sweeps of little circles and sharp flicks of the wrist that cleanly disarm the shocked Talon operatives before slamming the underside of their chins. Even he has to give a sympathetic wince when their teeth clack together, or even worse, when they don’t.

Up close, he can see you still wear your chef’s uniform, all white and emblazoned with the Overwatch logo right on the sleeves of your upper arms.

You only had three of them; the other three take their shots through the window.

He sees you reach back with your free hand inside the doors, and immediately, a metal door comes slamming down behind the window. The Talon operatives jerk back, lest they get their arms caught.

He’d never admit it, but he swears that his hair has just become a bit greyer after watching the surveillance video.

[Deleted scene of McCree’s interview with Head Chef Richard v1]

The meal is delectable, but he doesn't taste it. Countless experiences with chasing spirits and tobacco did not come without a price.

Even so, he makes a show picking at his food with enthusiasm. Just enough to show interest but not overly flatter and be taken for a fool.

[Filler]

“Cœur d’Artichaut.” The man flips the card elegantly between his long, thick fingers. “A leaf for everyone. A bit of love for everyone. Sounds good, no? Everyone deserves a bit of love."

He then holds the card still and places a gentle kiss on it, letting it cover his lips as he murmurs, "But what that means is to give and give and give until you’ve nothing left.”

The man takes a moment to pull out a pack of cigarettes and lights himself one, silently offering one to the disguised McCree. Not one to turn down such an offer, McCree takes one for himself, leaning into the flame when the chef holds the lighter to him, his dark hand cupping around the flame and McCree’s face. It’s an oddly intimate gesture that he can't be sure isn't because he's being polite. McCree just hopes the heat doesn’t affect the hardlight contours of his disguise.

A plume of smoke gushes from the chef’s mouth. The grey wisps caress his sharp cheekbones and winds itself around his head, allowing only his lighter eyes to shine through. It reminds McCree of a mythical creature.

"It iz a chef’s responsibility to take care of their customers. Cook ze best food for them. Love them with all our being. We chefs exist for them.” A bitter quirk of his lips accompanies the change in his tone. “We die for them. Their bodies are built on the meals we make, and so we must give as much as we can to help our customers face another day. This, of course, includes love."

"I see ‘love’ is a running theme with this restaurant. Could you tell me what you mean by ‘love’?" McCree raises his tablet and pen.

Just when he’s about to interrupt the silence with another inquiry, Richard takes another drag of his cigarette and stares out into the distance.

"Love,” he begins. “No greater form of love than to nourish another's body and soul. It can be as simple as a prayer or as complicated as picking out ingredients and cooking them in a way that is appropriate for that customer and that one customer only. There are many ways to love and show love. But to give and give and give love but not receive, even the greatest of lakes will run out. Love is an ingredient. Love,” he stresses with a wave of his hand, “iz not infinite."

"But love isn't an ingredient you can put on food, is it, sir?"

The chef's eyes slide over, fixing itself onto McCree's face for a moment, so piercing that he's sure he can see through the disguise. It sends shivers up and down his spine. He’s being measured, judged, like a fish on the chopping block.Mercifully, Richard looks away, letting the smoke rise out from between his teeth. Something like a laugh makes the smoke stutter.

"It is the food. It is the effort. The thought.”

“And so you plan on carrying on the ideals of the previous CEO?”

Richard barks a laugh.

“Of course not. That foolish, naiive child."

“Could you explain?”

“Mm. A naive, desperate people-pleaser. That sort of love means little. People like that ought to have more self-respect.”

“There’s nothing wrong with a chef doing their best, is there?”

Richard waves his hand dismissively. “Of course there isn’t. But doing one’s best to satisfy their customer’s paletes is different from being a doormat.”

[Filler]

"That child does not understand that love can flow in many directions."

[Filler]

"I am here to restore the balance and clean up ze mess my...protégé...has made."

"Hm. So long as my protégé remains a child, then this toy will remain in my possession."

[Filler]

"Even chefs must eat."

[Filler]

"Do parents not give their lives for their children? It iz an obvious conclusion."

Protests and bitter memories that illustrate the contrary almost make it out of McCree's mouth. Instead he swallows them down and replaces them with a, "Of course. There's no parent who wouldn't."

No other lie has ever burned his tongue so.

[Filler]

“I hope this interview has been…enlightening…" There's something about the way that word is said that puts his nerves on edge.

"Oh, it has. Thanks very much for your time."

Richard scoffs, snuffing out the last of his cigarette against the heel of his hand. Tough son of a bitch. No wonder he and Reyes got along so well. The butt makes its way into a pocket instead of on the ground and Chef Richard opens the back door.

Over his shoulder, he calls, "Please do come again in the future. I look forward to reading your article. As thanks, we will have...surprise meatloaf waiting.”

McCree’s shoulders draw back tight and he fights every instinct to not stiffen and turn around. Instead, he keeps walking, a wry and defeated smile on his face.

“Oh, and tell that child that one should not preach about love if without having experienced it in full."

The smugness could not be any less evident, and the door slams shut, allowing the threat to linger in McCree's ears.

Sonnavabitch.

[Deleted scene of McCree’s interview with Head Chef Richard v2]

He’ll have to evaluate their true value, but decades-old wine definitely has buyers and he thinks he may know one or two. It’s not gentlemanly to let a favor like this go unpaid, and he’s already got a few ideas on how to do it.

And that’s how he finds himself here, sitting in the very back of Cœur d’Artichaut, bathed in the afternoon sun with his laptop, pouring a tiny pitcher of espresso into his coffee. He never understood fancy places and their need for so much extra silverware and fine china when the food he’s eating is the size of a well-used soap bar.

At least it tastes better than one.

Glazing across the restaurant, he sees the person he’s supposed to thank, still talking to the General Manager, Argus.

With half the cup in his stomach, he puts his hands to keys and types.

‘Chef Richard Sauveterre, a chef of renown fame whose name is given reverence, not in written word, but through the mouths of those he has fed,’ the first few lines of his draft reads.

‘The very definition of tall, dark, and handsome, made more distinguished by thick cornrows that trace the sides of his skull like a crown, the remainder cascading down in a neat waterfall down his neck. He is King Midas in a chamber of heat, steel, and raw ingredients that he spins into award winning meals capable of turning the stoniest of hearts into gold.

‘Now the CEO of acclaimed charity restaurant, Cœur d’Artichaut. The heart of an artichoke, a leaf for everyone, is their motto.’

McCree pauses for a moment, licking at the scab on his lip, searching for the next words and filling himself with another deep sip of coffee when he can’t find them.

“Pardon the wait, monsieur Morricone.”

“Not at all, Chef.” McCree gets up from his chair and extends his hand. “I’m just glad you made time in your busy schedule for me.”

“Likewise.”

McCree was bracing for it, but the weight behind the chef’s handshake still catches him off-guard. It’s just one strong up-down motion with a firmness that softens as they let go, but it’s that immediate contact, that sheer presence that puts him off-kilter and reminds him that this man is not only a cook but also a world champion fencer who could give some of the lower and mid-tier members of Blackwatch a run for their money in terms of reflexes and sharp wit. It is not only his hands, but Chef Richard makes sure to lock eyes with him, pinning him down. While Gabe would look for weaknesses to be exploited, Chef Richard is looking for gaps to be filled.

At least Richard doesn’t greet him the way he greets Reyes: with more kisses on each cheek than should be necessary. Though he may have to attribute that distance to his current disguise.

McCree begins his usual spiel: who he supposedly is (Joel Morricone, freelance writer, likes long walks on the beach and freshly roasted coffee), why he’s writing this (following up on a previous article he wrote about the restaurant ousting their CEO), and a few general compliments to loosen up his interviewee.

In the midst of all that, Argus brings over Richard’s coffee and replaces McCree’s. Her movements are quiet and unobtrusive, befitting of a high class restaurant like this. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think she’s forgiven him for having written an article about them firing their CEO, but he knows better. She definitely debated turning him away at the door when he tried to come in ten minutes ago.

In return, Richard gives a brief summary of who he is and his accomplishments, factually and without embellishments as though he were talking about someone else. The names of awards and institutions he gives are fancy and long and would probably be more impressive if McCree actually knew them, but all he can do is nod and ask probing questions that makes him sound like he actually knows more than he does.

If McCree didn’t know his history any better, he would have missed that the man glossed over the fact he led Overwatch’s kitchens for a good portion of its existence.

Past the initial niceties, McCree begins digging into the real reason for his interview.

“Prior to this position, do you mind telling me what you were doing and why did you come here instead?”

“I came because I saw some article about a former employee of mine leaving behind unfinished business.”

“And where did you come from?”

“My mother’s womb, where else?” he says dryly, and McCree damn near types that down.

“I’m guessing you don’t want to talk about it.”

Richard smiles. “No.”

“O--kay. Let me remind you that this interview is confidential and you will be the first to review the contents before public—”

“I am aware.” Then he pauses as if reconsidering, his smile growing wider with a glint in his eye that makes McCree want to squirm in his chair. “If you must know, I was anchored.”

“Anchored?”

He doesn’t elaborate any further and McCree’s brain is working overtime trying to decipher his words and not let it show on his face.

Anchored. Tied down somewhere. Somewhere that you nor anyone else have been able to reach. McCree goes through all the iterations of what that could mean and he lands on either ‘prison’ or ‘out so far in the boonies that technology couldn’t reach him’. Either one is possible with this man.

“Right, next question.” He clears his throat. “Now that you’re here as the new CEO of Cœur d’Artichaut, what is going to be your strategy for the restaurant going forward and your current impressions of things so far?”

Richard’s eyes flit once between McCree’s disguised face and his own cup of coffee. There is a semblance of bitter fondness that lingers in the corner of his lips that is quickly covered by the rim of his cup. For the first time since this interview started, his demeanor shifts. McCree can’t explain it, but it feels like he’s no longer talking to Richard, a professional chef, but Richard, a person.

“Avoir un cœur d’artichaut.”

“Pardon?”

“‘I have the heart of an artichoke’. I love everyone who eats my meals, for everyone who has eaten my meals has a piece of my heart.” He sips at his coffee for a moment too long, . “This restaurant’s motto, ‘cœur d'artichaut, une feuille pour tout le monde’, iz something I had said a lot in the past.”

“So the restaurant’s namesake is from you?”

“The saying is not mine alone, but that seems to be so.” There’s a bitter twist to his lips like he wished it weren’t. “As for the direction of the restaurant, a lot of effort has been put already and I will not change what does not need changing.”

“Have you had a chance to speak with the previous CEO during the transition?”

“No.”

“And is there anything you’d like to say, any message you’d like to convey?”

“Yes. ‘Do it your own way.’”

“That’s it?”

“Did you expect a heartwarming speech?”

“Well, I was expecting something a little more personal?”

“Personal things should be told to the person in question, yes? And not to a...” Richard looks him up and down, real slow and deliberate. A shiver runs through McCree’s spine--the look would make a lesser person shrink in their seats and the way he says his next word would evaporate them from existence. “...mere reporter?”

McCree manages a grin. He’s seen scarier. “You’re right, you’re right. So if you don’t plan on changing the restaurant or giving any words, any menu changes?”

“I’d take away those awful pancakes,” he exclaims with a toothy grin and a flap of his hand, and McCree can’t tell if that’s supposed to be a joke. He doesn’t have to guess as Richard continues. “This menu is like a baby imitating their parents. Too many recipes similar to mine, not original enough.”

“Oh?” McCree puts his hands to his keyboard again. Food seems to be the way to get this man to open up. “I’ve seen raving reviews for ‘em—”

“Bah. Shitty taste buds. Zis thick piece o’ dough cannot be called, eh, pancake. Babies will choke and the elderly will die of malnutrition, zis--non, non, non. Zis is something only someone with bad tastes could like. But ze compote! ‘Ave you tried it? That is the only thing that makes it menu-worthy.”

The rambling critique of your menu goes on and on and Richard’s accent only gets thicker as his excitement pours out in unstoppable waves. As disparaging as though remarks are, McCree can’t help but get the sense that Richard right now is like a proud father, and he wonders how he can convey that to you in his article.

“A chef must always think of their customers. This menu is subpar, but I can feel the thoughtfulness in the service and selections.”

“Humans can eat most anything and survive, but it is a miserable existence. Gladden the senses, bring people together. Our dishes are made with love, but that love must come from somewhere. No chef can provide it all without having received any, and I will continue that mission here.”

[Filler]

“Please, stay for lunch. I do not wish to host a guest without showing proper hospitality.”

McCree suspects he’d probably be murdered if he does agree if not by Richard then by your own staff who already hold a grudge against him for having written an article about your forceful resignation without their consent. (A scoop is a scoop, and it made Richard come back to Gibraltar, so all’s well that ends well.)

“Thank you kindly for the offer, but I think you’ve shown me plenty.”

“It will be on the house.”

“Really, I’ll come by another day. Lots left to do.”

McCree pulls out a handle from his bag and presses a button, the rest of the cane materializing as he uses it to get up. Chef Richard is right there beside him with a hand hovering over his elbow.

[Filler]

“The next time you come we will have our specialty for you prepared: Surprise Meatloaf. Oh, and no need to be concerned; insurance will handle both the trucks you and your friends destroyed.”

McCree turns around but the door clicks shut behind him, the heavy wooden door now much more threatening than before.

He grins wildly to himself, dragging a hand through his hair.

That sonnavabitch.

[Deleted Scene of Reaper encountering Chef]

"Hello, dishwasher."

You turn and gasp at the stranger in the kitchen. “What the f—ATHE–!!”

The man explodes into a tidal wave of mist, and your mouth is covered with one large hand, claws digging to your face, the rest of your body held immobile by the darkness. “Now, now. No need for that, dishwasher.”

Dish–!!?

Paralyzing fear courses through you like lightning. You struggle to free yourself from the confines of...whatever it is that is holding you. You need to alert everyone. You need to get free. A threatening squeeze of your body--your spine pops a little and your recently healed injuries protest the rough treatment--and the bone mask in your face makes you pause for a moment.

“Now, be good; don’t call for help. I’m just here for a house visit.”

He removes his hand slowly.

“A house visit?" Your voice is shakier than you'd like it to be, brain buzzing with fright.

The mist detangles itself from your limbs cautiously, ready to strike and immobilize you against if you were to make a stray move. The blood rushes back into your head and brings spots to your eyes, drumming in your ears and making you more nauseated than you would've liked.

While you're busy trying to reorientate your body, the part-mist, part-man glides slowly around the kitchen, looking around. You can see him pause at some of the injuries the kitchen sustained during the Talon attack.

"Pity. That baker, Woo, really liked this countertop. She'd have a fit if she saw this."

Stunned, you stare at the wandering mist figure. "You know this kitchen, you know Patisserie Woo?"

He turns his mask toward you, and you’re sure that he’s raising an eyebrow behind it. The response, 'Obviously,' exudes from every fiber of his body. .

"Wait, who are you…?”

“Take a guess.”

You narrow your eyes, curling your fingers around your lips in thought. Someone who knows your past. Someone who knows you since you were a dishwasher. The chefs in this kitchen didn’t exactly have a high turnover, but there were very few people who knew you throughout your journey up the ranks. A man who first knew you as a dishwasher and called you such.

"Omar? Frederick? Johnny?"

“Try again.”

The fear and wariness ebbs away as the threat of death evaporates.

You search your memory. There's nothing familiar about this man except the way he stands, arms crossed and staring down at you. If you squint, you could almost overlap a memory with this figure.

“Come on, now. You picked up everything in this kitchen pretty quick. You can’t even figure this out for yourself?”

It hovers over the edge of your memory, just out of reach. Think, who is this person acting like? You’ve seen this behavior before.

The voice becomes soft, endearing almost as he utters, “Come on, dishwasher. You’re smarter than this.”

The image of a man, leaning against one of the counters during the lull between service, watching you attempt a new recipe with calculating eyes. You almost expect Head Chef Richard to appear behind him and slap him on this shoulder, watch them both get up and give each other a brotherly hug.

Your eyes widen.

"Gabriel.” Your mentor's voice and yours overlap in a breathy whisper. "Comman, commander Gabriel Reyes."

There's a hint of a smile in his voice when he says, “There we go, always knew you were a clever little thing, but I go by 'Reaper', now."

A slight flush goes through your cheeks, forcing out the icy sheen of fear that lingered in your veins. Even now, despite being on opposite teams, it is nice to be praised by the former Commander. However, your thoughts are quickly interrupted when you remember that this is Reaper--the Talon higher-up whom the recalled Overwatch were on the look-out for.

"What are you doing here?"

"House-visit," he repeats. You're not quite sure what that even means. "You're not supposed to be there."

Confused, you ask, "Be...where?"

Commander Reyes--Reaper--sweeps his arms out, gesturing at the kitchen in its entirety. "Here. You weren't supposed to be here that night."

Talon. The attack. You gasp, hand flying to your mouth and other protectively against your middle. Your wounds ache at the mention and quickened pulse.

“They were supposed to lure you out," he continues. "Leave the path open so that Talon can use the passage,” he rumbles.

"But I came back..."

"Right. Now I came to give you some information."

"Why would you do that...?"

He shrugs. "Because I'm feeling generous, maybe?"

A small laugh escapes the fingers covering your mouth. That can't possibly be true, but then again, he is--or was--Gabriel Reyes.

"You don’t trust me?"

It’s hard to trust someone who looks like the Grim Reaper come to life.

"I do," you say distantly. "Because I trust Command Reyes. And…” You hesitate. “And, you know, the Head Chef…he really loved you."

"That man loves everyone,” he scoffs. “Don’t bring him into this. Anyway," --he waves his hand around-- "don't you wonder about the attack that night?"

"Yes. Like how they were able to find the passage. It's only supposed to be known to kitchen personnel--wait." Something clicks in your head. "Were you the one who led everyone here?"

Reaper exhales something between a growl and a huff. "No, but someone in your little organization’s turned traitor."

The world got absorbed into a vortex, and you suddenly feel like you're free-falling or sinking or just dying. You can't breathe, you can't hear, couldn't think, not when reality decides to take an unexpected vacation.

You force out a shuddering laugh that sounds grating even to your own ears. "What do you mean 'turned traitor'? There's, there's no one who knows that would ever..."

You sink down to the ground, reality righting itself and your limbs feel like a ton of bricks or that you've been hit by them. It didn't really matter. You're trying to get your brain to function, to think. But the shock of his words were too much. You trust--trusted--everyone at your restaurant.

But...then...

“Turned traitor on you and your organization."

You clench your fists and bring them to your mouth.

"Reaper on premise! Reaper on premise! Repeat, Reaper is on the premise!"

"Took them long enough,” Reaper says at the exact same time you order, “Athena! Cancel the alert!"

"Command overridden. Reaper on premise!"

You give the man a weary look and he returns it with a shrug.

"Can I offer you a meal before you go?”

He laughs. “I don’t think you can make anything fast enough. Those Overwatch brats will be here soon."

You’re already walking to one of the refrigerators while he speaks and pull out a lunch box that was meant for Agent McCree before his mission, but given the circumstances, you’re sure it wouldn’t matter much. You can just make a new one anyway.

"Here you are."

He takes one look at the name written on it and tosses it right back at you.

"Give it to the brat. I don’t take sloppy seconds.”

You don’t even have a chance to retort before he disappears into a puff of smoke, slipping in beneath the door from which he came.

The kitchen doors burst open, Agent Soldier: 76 at the helm. And not a moment too soon.

“Kitchen personnel only!” you say, reflexively.

“Where’s Reaper?"

The other agents are spread out, alert, but some are looking around the place like it’s a tourist attraction. You cringe.

"I didn’t notice anyone here."

His sweeping gaze falls on you, and you’re suddenly an insect that’s been pinned, unable to escape from the piercing gaze of the ex-Overwatch Commander.

"Talk, Chef.” Nothing in his stance bodes any hint of compromise.

You know he doesn’t believe you. Not when you’re standing there with McCree’s lunch in your hands, wrapped and with no dishes around.

[Original scene of Hanzo’s first break-in into the kitchen]

He drops down from the top of the doors, only to freeze when you round the corner.

The words tumble out of his mouth ungracefully. “You’re a person.”

“Get out.”

The biting intensity in your voice is challenging enough for him to forget exactly who he is speaking to.

“I go where I wish.”

It’s the wrong answer.

He sees your eyes flash. In an instant, you’re trying to man-handle him out. Hands clumsily fisted into his gi, twisting, tugging, hips down and bearing weight against his bulk. However, you’re no match for a trained assassin. His reaction is too immediate. He has you on the ground, straddling your hips, pinning both your arms to your back with a hand, his other hand bracing himself on the floor by your head.

You try to buck him off relentlessly, like an animal.

“GET OUT!”

He grits his teeth, and presses tighter against your hands. Your breath comes out in a wheeze, and in the back of his mind, he’s aware that you will have trouble breathing.

“I do not take orders from a mere chef!” he barks.

You seize in his hold.

For a bone-chilling moment, he thinks he may have gone too far in his technique. His grip slackens just a margin.

You twist violently. He gets unseated just long enough for you to aim a knee up at him. He blocks it, and you are scrambling off the ground, hand reaching for something. Anything.

A ladle—you hold it out in front of you, the rounded end pointed squarely at his chest.

“Get. Out.”

He furrows his brow, aware that he’s all teeth and spitting fire. “Is that all you can say?”

“Agent Hanzo, you are forbidden here, get out.”

“What is the meaning of this?”

It’s Satya who stops the fight from the door, well within the boundaries of the rules set.

“Going into the kitchen is against Overwatch policy,” she recites coldly.

He can see you’re still ready to fight even though you are horrible outmatched. If he really wanted to, you’d be dead in an instant.

But those burning eyes promise him something more than a poorly attempted beatdown should he push the matter.

With a huff, he leaves.

She gives him a disapproving look, which he shakes off, angered.

[Filler]

The next day, he’s only mildly horrified to find two turrets stationed outside the kitchen doors, and is suddenly paranoid that there are many more waiting where they cannot be seen.

Hanzo does not know if it's you who ordered them or if the architect had done it off her own free will. (If he has to guess, you had explicitly requested it.)

The architect is extraordinarily good at her job--able to merely look at a building and understand the structure and blind spots even if she doesn’t fully appreciate the depth of this part of her skillset.

He could swear they’re all looking at him--glaring, even--ready to teach him a lesson for his transgressions.

It prickles at him.

[Alternate shopping scene with Chef and Hanzo]

The air, crisp with the snap of an impending winter, chills your lungs as you breath it in. It feels liberating.

The market is as busy as you remember it. Medication and a lengthy preparation time kept you sleeping past the normal time you'd be up and about, searching for the juiciest, freshest, and tastiest of produce. But at 0830, most of them were already snatched up by other more savvy people and chefs who have likely returned back to their kitchens to celebrate their prizes. Now only the more casual crowd remained, a steadily surging crowd.

Agent Hanzo stands right at your elbow, being one of the few agents who were awake when you were plotting to leave and caught you in the act of trying to disconnect yourself from the supplies that are theoretically keeping you healthy. (You’re fine. You can stand and walk with minimal trouble, so a few hours outside shouldn’t be an issue.)

“It is not safe by yourself. I shall accompany you,” he declared like it was a given.

You just didn't have the energy to fight him. After a few failed attempts to even stand up from your bed, you figured it wouldn't hurt to have him around in case your body decided to betray you. Athena, bless her, was blissfully complacent in letting you both go once you promised you would take it easy and forced Hanzo to take responsibility for protecting you (and that you'd both return by lunchtime; she threatened to send other agents after you both and you shudder to think of the commotion that would cause).

So far, Hanzo’s been attentive and pleasant company with an occasionally sharp comment that is more witty than barbed and a helpful hanp.

“Is there anything you'd like for lunch or dinner today?”

“Are you so unwell that you are now taking requests?” he asks incredulously, glancing at you briefly with a raised eyebrow before sweeping the crowd with his eyes.

“Very funny, Agent Hanzo. I’m serious.” You pick up a radish and look it over. You can make radish curry with this. Agent Symmetra would probably like that--something closer to home--or maybe radish salad, or garlic roasted radish with feta cheese, or maybe even grate it into a yogurt sauce. “Since you decided to accompany me, it's the least I could do.” You didn’t have much else you could give to him or do for him anyway.

He scoffs, a tiny smile at the corner of his mouth shows it’s not as condescending or mean as it sounds. “Anything you can make without dropping.”

“That was once! And you dropped way more things than I did.”

“The magnitude is greater,” Hanzo says flippantly, lifting the heavy bags he held so easily back into view. “Whatever you plan on making with this will be payment enough, I’m sure.”

Somehow, you couldn't help flush a little, unsure if it is meant to be genuine or teasing.

“If you don't decide soon, I'll make pepper soup.”

Hanzo just laughs, a light and actually jovial laugh that makes you flush a little brighter. It's a stupid threat especially against an Overwatch agent, but it’s all you have. But even so, he didn't have to make fun of you.

“I'm really going to do it, Agent Hanzo.”

He looks at you, a challenging gleam in his eyes that you've seen far too many times from other ill-fated agents who think the kitchens are a game. The look makes you burn just beneath your skin.

“Aren’t you supposed to reward me for my services?”

“And I will,” you say with a firm determination. “I promise.”

He has nothing to say to that, but the look on his face speaks for him: we shall see.

For the remainder of your shopping trip, Hanzo remains a quiet but intimidating presence behind you as you continued to pick out your produce. Hanzo still says nothing even after moving through several other booths where you take your time to buy and bargain for large and colorful peppers. He wordlessly takes your bags as you get them, refusing to return them to you even after you kick up a small fuss that quickly exhausts you.

[Filler]

A heavy weight in the middle of your back nearly makes you jump out of your skin and you clench your teeth to hold back the noise of pain that tries to crawl its way out of your throat.

At your ear, Hanzo mutters, “Come.”

“Is someone following us?”

He doesn’t answer, weaving his way in and out of the crowd with you held close to his side. Absentmindedly, you realize he’s quite warm amidst the autumn air. As sharp and callous as Hanzo is, he sure is comfortable. It’s presumptuous, but maybe you could ask him if you could take a nap against him when he has the time. Maybe for half an hour or so. Just once.

You’re startled out of your thoughts with a quick jostle. “Chef, hurry.”

“Okay, okay.”

“Stay beside me.”

“Do you see something?”

Again, he doesn’t answer.

You can see him scanning the area as though seeking a route. The number of people have thinned considerably, leaving you both exposed. Hanzo keeps you by the walls of what buildings are around, but those are quickly becoming sparse, too. There’s a constant flex in his jaw and it’s clear to see he’s a little agitated.

“Oh!”

You reach for one of his hands--it’s also very warm and very large--and begin to pull with what strength you had even as he tries to snatch it back. You both need to stay together and this is the best way to ensure it even though you’re very sure he can keep up against your injured self.

“Wh—”

“This way.”

You know Gibraltar better. You know its secrets and its truths and exactly how to lose people here. Hanzo, perhaps knowing this, follows obediently after you--he has no choice, you have his hand.

The bags are definitely slowing you both down and a small ache begins to settle around your stomach and sides--the pain medication must be reaching its end, but you push forward through small alleyways that barely fit the both of you until you both made it into the Siege Tunnels where you both took turn after turn into the winding dimness.

“We...we should be safe here,” you huff.

He nods and says nothing, both of you listening, backs pressed against the chilly stone walls, listening for anything beside the echoes of the whispering wind or cries of the many macaques that call these tunnels their stomping ground.

The darkness makes it hard to see anything, but it only makes everything else just so much more apparent especially the proximity between yourself and your bodyguard for a day. You notice you still have his hand in a death grip but you refrain from saying anything: there’s no telling if the danger has passed yet and you didn’t want to risk making any more noise (and he hasn’t tried to pull away again after the first time). It’s embarrassing and downright childish, but you had to admit you felt just a little safer just having him beside you as a solid and warm presence.

You’ve worked alone for so long, it was nice to be in such close proximity with someone who is not looking to you for orders or putting the pressure of work on you. How many years has it been since you were free of expectations? When was the last time you stopped vying for the approval of others?

It must have been a long, long time. All of your actions had you wrung out and stressed, looking over your shoulder at every whisper and imagined gaze. Were the UN after you? Was the Head Chef there? Were your staff watching your every move and judging you? You didn’t ever feel certain even as you rose higher and higher in the world--it felt like each step toward what most people would consider to be an ‘accomplishment’, you became one step closer to uncertainty, trapped by silver walls and isolated from everyone else around you.

This impromptu trip was a good idea even if it made your muscles hurt. Agent Hanzo didn’t judge you, didn’t try to give unnecessary praise or respect, or treat you any lesser. He’s good company with a discerning eye and even better jabs. Maybe next time you decide to sneak out, you’ll tell him first.

Somehow, you realize you’ve closed your eyes as you were thinking. The cool stone at your back and the warmth at your side is intoxicatingly comforting, the shoulder beneath your head is a little hard—

“Oh! I’m so sor—” You bite your words back, forgetting momentarily you both were on the run, a chill running up and down your skin because what if--.

“It’s fine. I believe we are clear.”

You breathe a sigh of relief. “Great. We can take this tunnel straight back to the Watchpoint. It’s a bit of a walk, but I think it’ll be faster than going back outside.”

You push yourself off the wall with a grunt of effort. After running around so much and taking a break, your muscles refused to cooperate. Hanzo gives you a strong pull with the hand you have gripped tight.

Again, you flush with the realization. The danger has passed, there’s no reason to keep holding hands.

“Sorry, I didn’t really--I can let go, if you’d like? This must be stopping you from doing your job.”

A contemplative look crosses his face, but it’s difficult to tell in the dark. After a moment’s pause, he gives your hand an experimental squeeze and says, “No. We’ll stay like this. So you cannot get lost in the dark.”

There’s a hint of a wicked smirk in his voice that’s somewhat playful and again, a warmth blooms just underneath your skin; a mix of embarrassment and indignity.

“I can find my way around with my eyes closed!”

“Shall we try? I will not warn you of walls, just so you are aware.” Regardless, he walks with you, close to your side.

“I don’t want Athena to send a team after us, so next time!”

“Next time.” The way he says those words sounds like he’s testing them in his mouth. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking, but you swear you can hear his smile. “Next time.”

[Deleted interrogation scene between Chef and others]

The facts were laid bare before him once more in the morning when Hanzo speaks to Winston, Soldier, McCree, and a holovideo of yourself and Ana.

It is almost like a trial, the image of your listless face, turned away from the monitor, sits on the central terminal of the meeting room for everyone to see and judge. It's the first time Hanzo had seen you since you were carried out of the Cellar by Soldier--the Cellar which has been opened up by order of Winston and interconnected with Athena's systems, yet the secrecy of it's entire contents remained mysterious by effort of the Junkers and the AI herself. It may be a small comfort to you to know that not everything was defiled, but he doesn't know just how much you knew about the state of your kitchen.

But today's meeting wasn't about that.

You were told to deliver the facts of what you've been doing and your dealings for Overwatch. You did so, slumped in your bed without care for appearances or the usual politeness that came with your service, answers flat and pointed. Normally, this type of disrespect and blatant disregard for manners would earn his ire, but instead, it makes him uneasy.

It is not the look of an injured person on the sliver of your face, but your whole body told the story of someone who has given up after a long, harrowing effort.

You confirmed that you owned a restaurant, the card of which sat on Hanzo's scant dresser. It explained the service, the food, the aesthetic. It seemed so painfully obvious that Hanzo wondered why he never saw the connection before.

When questioned about the previous head chef, you admitted you didn't know where he was. You should have set off for France, but you knew he wouldn't go there. Some personal issues that you never understood and no one wanted to question.

You distantly confessed the amounts you've given Overwatch, the methods for contacting donors, and the sloppy way you went about verifying them. Even sloppier were your attempts to make the transactions seem legitimate and the lengths you went through to protect Overwatch, the donors, and your customers from the potential fallout.

All throughout, you refused to look at them or give excuses, only clinical facts and simple 'yes' and 'no's.

"Anything else?" you ask wearily.

"No, we will let you know if we require further information. You have given us enough for now. Please get a good rest," Winston says.

Nodding at them, you lean back into your pillows, and let out a bone-rattling sigh. Mercifully, the screen turns off

There is a deafening silence that follows.

They have been given a lot of information to digest and Hanzo, long grown out of the habit of writing down thoughts during a meeting, finds himself wishing that he had if only to organize the chaos that you’ve thrusted upon them.

It is an incredible tale, regardless of the number of times he had to hear it. The amount of danger, sacrifice, and sheer naivety involved

"The donors can claim ignorance then."

"It was well planned." Even Ana sounds slightly impressed, toying with the string of her teabag. "If the auditors checked, only Chef would take the blame." A smirk comes over her face. "Ah, doesn't that sound familiar, hm, Jack?"

The man grumbles something unintelligible.

"What's that, Jack? I did not quite hear you."

"The restaurant workers are just as guilty. They are accomplices." Ana rolls her eyes at Soldier's obvious diversion but allows it to proceed by sipping on her drink.

“The way it’s set up, only Chef handles the finances. On paper, as far as the other two go, they can say they didn't know about the operation...”

[Filler]

It's not safe for them to continue sending the money especially not after they had their run-in with the auditors. It wouldn't take long for an investigation to find both the restaurant and Overwatch guilty of money-laundering.

What is the best thing to do?

Hanzo's brows furrows, painfully tight as he rummages through his mind for the correct answer.

He is not well-versed in Gibraltar law and even less so with financial laws involving a charity like yours.

"It's smarter this way."

"Though how they plan on covering the gap is beyond me. The timing is too convenient and matches the auditors' investigation too well."

"Wouldn't it be weirder for them to stop?"

#my writing #twtah #deleted scenes #some of them were rewritten to hell and back #i thought about posting a compilation fic on AO3 with this but they're not long enough for me to feel like they should be up there #happy 2021

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rockingelbows · 4 years

Text

/NSFW: SEXUAL- LOVE MAKING\

Ship: BakuSero.

It all started with that one kiss one summer, that led to the love making of his life. It was hot. No, not the mood. The sun beat down on Hanta in waves, and the noirette was suffering. His hand was fanning his face, his hair now in a man-bun. Katsuki was in a chair, curled up on his hammok in his boyfriends dorm, reading a book with small reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. Hanta was doing homework at his desk, silently watching Katsuki when he got all of it done. He licked his lips, they were dry because it was so hot. He hasn't felt heat in months, since beibg incased in ice didn't suit his body well, and usually hed be estatic. But now? He was suffering. The blond in his hammok wasn't any better off, by the slam of the book hed guessed Katsuki was done with the book for now. Hanta watched, and their eyes met. The red-eyed blonds gaze softened at the sight of his sweaty, misrable boyfriend. "I haven't seen you this hot and bothered before."

Katsuki had a hard time controlling his quirk in the heat, that's why he had his fists clenched as Hanta gently grabbed his wrists. Hanta stood up from his rickety desk chair, and held the slightly smaller male to him. He bent his knees so he could snuggle into his boyfriends chest. "Hey, hey, I thought you'd be too hot for that."

Hanta shrugged, "I mean, I wonder what being Kat-defincent would be like. I cant just let myself do that."

Katsuki rolled his eyes and pecked Hantas lips. Hantas face lit up, like, red. It was already flushed by the heat, but by his slackened posture and by the way he tried to hide himself hid himself in his hair even though it was up in a bun (for the most part, anyway). The tape user huffed, puffing his cheeks out. Explosion boy answered in kind, which (of course) would be squishing Hantas cheeks together so the air would be let out. Hanta broke into a small, embarassed grin. Katsuki felt himself start to melt more from the small smile, and damn, did it melt him more than the heat ever could. Hanta was just so..pretty. He wanted to appriciate every part of skin on his boyfriend, and even parts (like his mouth) that would definitely make them ignite together. Hanta was so perfect, and theyve talked about making love before, but they've been nervous. Hanta gets overstimulated easy, and even when pleasuring himself, he has to drag it out but not let it go too far, or he'll become a whiny mess, as Hanta had told him. They haven't had any intercourse yet, Hanta finds it very important that love comes before pleasure, and with those eyes, Katsuki couldn't help but agree. Hantas eyes met Katsukis, and Katsuki said, "do you want to try to make love, hun?"

Hanta bit his lip, "its kinda hot though," he said.

Katsuki said, "because you dont have your 'ditioning on, dumbass."

Hanta pouted, separating from Kat with hesitancy and draggung himself to his controls. He turned the air on, and instantly felt the cold sweep across his feet and he gratefully took it. He fanned himself, slipping his ponytail holder out of his hair at the same time. Katsuki bit his own lip, and couldn't help but want Hanta more. Not sexually, just want his touch. Hanta looked over, sweat starting to go away. He immediately went to cuddle up to Katsuki, giggling and nuzzling his chest. "Yes. Im ready, honeybee."

The blond nodded, slowly bringing their lips together. Hanta didnt fight against Katsuki, only wrapped his muscular arms around Katsukis stomach. Despite that, his elbows rested against his hips. Its a great resting place, he doesn't have to work as hard to hold Kat like this. Hanta felt Katsukis lips part from his, and he took in a shuddering breath, feeling his body reacting to the stimuli that Katsuki was now giving him, not groping, gods no, seemingly appreciating Hantas behind. Ths calloused hands of the other muscular man were rubbing small circles on his butt, he couldn't help but start to feel embarassed. "Remember the safeword we talked about?"

"M-mhm. Soy Sauce. And slow down is Spicy."

"Just making sure, thank you, Hanta."

Hanta nodded, kissing Katsukis head and led him to his big bed. He laid on his back, beckoning the other male to come overtop. The blond did so, but ducked his head to slowly make love bites on Hantas exposed skin. He sat back up, appreciating the flushed face and the whine he pratcially felt vibrating in Hantas throat, waiting to be released. Hanta let put that high pitched whine when Katsuki started sweet talking him.

"Your body is perfect. Your elbows are so pretty on you. No one can amount to how amazing you look. Ever."

Hanta shook his head, the whine mentioned ripping through his throat. He gasped, "K-Kat," he felt himself about to cry as Katsuki kissed all over his face, and kissed the first stray, salty tear that made its way over the pale skin of Hanta. Katsuki spoke in a small, soft voice that had an edge of roughness. Hanta loved it. Its a great representation of his love. It may seem rough, his love, but he fell in love with Katsuki for a reason. Study session forgotten, books amd pencils abandoned, they started to slowly make out as the room seemed to heat back up again. The wet noises of their lips was basically the only sound in the room, besides the rustling of Hantas squirming legs desrately needing a hold on something. They found Katsukis waist, and brought him closer with his lips. Katsuki now leaned over Hanta on his forearms and elbows.

Hanta played with Katsukis hair as they started their intimacy. They didn't rush, theres no need to. They have each other, this is to show their love. Even if its cold, and Hanta is having trouble sleeping because of his anxiety, or if its cold he'll be anxious because he thinks he'll be trapped. Again. He never wants to experience that again, the shivering cold. But now, hes shivering in excitement, so he guesses Katsuki is the only reason that he'll shiver and smile at the same time for. Katsuki pulled from the session first, slowly peeling Hantas tank-top up. He kisses all the exposed skin he could, sometimes nipping at the skin. Hanta whined at the attention, feeling like royalty.

"I want to kiss every inch of you, because I want to kiss perfection. Every peice and inch of skin is so perfect on you, Hanta, baby. You are sculpted so well, you arent a beast but you are so strong. Not even just physically, Han. Just in general. You always tease me to push me to do better, and you believe in me. You make me so happy. And I know you sell yourself short. I see it in your face. But youre so perfect, so pretty, I cant help but love you so, so much."

Hanta let out a sob as Katsuki finished, now full-on crying. "B-but I'm just.. so plain."

Katsuki pulled the tank off Hanta, who just let him. His muscular chest was kind of like Katsukis, but not near as thick. Hanta blushed, still crying but it got worse as Katsuki splayed his warm hands on Hantas chest, fondling the muscles with gentle touches, but somehow loving. "Plain beautiful, baby. You drive me mad, sometimes. You are so f.."

Hanta didnt like excessive cussing during love time, so he corrected himself,

"You are so amazing. You have a good body. Your face is beautiful, and unique. Do people look like you anymore? No? Then youre not plain. You're unique. You will make such an awesome hero."

Hanta clutched Katsukis shirt, sobbing into it. Katsuki kissed Hantas cheek and the noirette peeled his face off Katsuki, tugging silently on the shirt with red-rimmed and tear-filled eyes. The blond pulled it off, anf Hanta latched onto one of Katsukis shoulders, making love bites. With marking Kats skin, his soft whines were muffled. "Those sounds are beautiful, baby. I love you."

Things continued to get more and more heated until Katsukis fingers were at Hantas quivering rim. Katsuki pushed a finger in and Hanta whimpered, mostly of embrassment. As he got stretched out, he whimpered and whined - not excessively, though. They came out short, and high pitched. Katsuki loved them. He took his time stretching Hanta out, his other hand holding Hantas. The noirette has always been embarassed about intimacy, something he never though hed deserve or get. But here he is, the love of his life, stretching him so they can make love. Hanta squirmed at the thought, and Katsuki kissed Hantas thighs. Hanta gasped, biting his lips. His thighs were sensitive, especially toward the insides. Hanta let out his first small moan when Katsuki slowly found his prostate, and with the pace he was going, brushed along it slowly. Katsuki flushed, hearing that sound. He was aroused, sure, aching. But this is about love, and he was going to treat Hanta like an ancient relic, all the love and attention he needs. Once Hanta was stretched enough, it only felt like a few seconds to them, but they took five minutes slowly preparing each other, physically (Hanta) or mentally.. (Hanta and Katsuki). The only thing left on the blond was his boxers, while his lover was naked. He pulled his fingers out and watched Hantas eyebrows furrow. He was still crying. Sniffling. It was cute, under the cicumstances.

Katsuki shimmied out of his underwear and hissed as the (now) cold air swept across his penis, holding it in place. Hanta peeked pver and squealed, hiding his face in his arms. Katsuki leaned over and moved the arms away, exposing the embarassed face and tear marks. Hanta whimpered and nodded and Katsuki asked "are you ready?"

Hanta took a huge inhale to relax himself as Kat pushed into him, a long, high pitched whine followed, not because it was /that/ good, but because it felt good to feel loved. He always felt like this was all about love, and the whine was something apong the line of " you love me enough to do this. "

He trusted Katsuki, and the two threaded their fingers together and held eachothers hands, Hanta started full-on sobbing again and Katsuki said nothing of it, just kissing away tears he could reach. "I love you," Kat said, voice deep with arousal. Hanta gasped in air that he desprately needed, and replied with a shakey "I love you too."

After Hanta adjusted, Katsuki started a slow, easing pace that made Hanta squirm. They kept going.

They had tested for any desiease any of the two might have, and Hanta found out hes sensitive to condoms (don't ask) so they went in raw. And, Hanta can't get pregnant. So, they hadn't thought about it. Hanta whimpered and whined until Katsuki gradually sped up, and the pace he went was still slow and love-filled. Katsuki was pouring his love into Hanta and the noirette couldnt help but keep crying. "You're so pretty, baby. You always make me smile, you know?"

"B-but doesn't everyone think I'm weird?"

"No, baby. You're perfect. They all care about you."

They both talked about problems while they made love, comforting each other and holding each other close. Telling eachother they love them. It was sweet, and even if theyre still in high school they still loved each other very much.

@bnha-kitten

#hantasero #sero hanta #hanta sero #bnha hanta #sero #serotonin #serobaku #bakusero #makelovenotporn #makelovegreatagain

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harlot-of-oblivion · 4 years

Text

The Heart of the Camellia(Part 7)

The big days is getting closer and you are making good time with the flowers, all thanks to a very helpful devil known as Vergil Sparda. You decide to bring him a thank you gift, which results in a invitation to dinner with the rest of the crew.

And here it is! Sorry for the delay...this holiday season is kicking my butt.😤 I'll do my best to finish this part before the year is out, but it may not happen since I’m planning another fic to be a nice ‘n’ spicy holiday treat😏

Anyway! Without further ado, the first half of Part 7! And here’s the link to the list of all the flowers featured in this part. 🌸💖🌸

Chapter 1: Family of Flowers

For the past few weeks, you have been working nonstop, arranging all the final details and flowers for the Sparda wedding. You did not have the time to take a day off until now, and you are not enjoying it in the garden for once. Instead, you are bustling around your kitchen, preheating the oven before sprinkling flour all over the counter and turning out a ball of red velvet dough onto its surface.

You always thought that if you were not a gardener and florist extraordinaire, you would probably be a pastry chef. There is just something about baking sweet treats that brings you the same exact joy as tending to the flowers in your garden. And sometimes, you can have the best of both professions: decorative treats depicting beautiful blooms or even having actual flowers in the treat itself! That is exactly what you plan to do to the dough you are currently rolling out, spreading a layer of cinnamon and brown sugar over it before rolling it up jelly-roll style.

It’s not blueberry or apple, but I hope he likes it all the same, you thought nervously as you grab a knife and begin slicing the log of dough.

Vergil has visited your garden every single day since that demon attack near your home. You always welcome him with open arms and a warm smile despite being really busy, and he always adamantly offers his assistance with whatever you are working on that day. Those times you taught him a thing or two become your saving grace, lessening the burden and stress of getting this done on such short notice. It does make you feel a bit guilty though for needing help, and you have tried to let him know that he should not feel obligated to aid you. But he just gives you what you refer to as his “motivational smolder” and tells you that his assistance only seems fair since he is the one that suggested your shop.

The power of Sparda now includes the talent for arranging flowers! You giggle softly as you place the red velvet dough slices onto a greased pan, making sure they are not too close to each other before covering them with a kitchen towel. They need a little time to rise before baking, so you wash your hands and remove your apron before heading out into the garden. Might as well make a flower crown while I wait! You meander idly among the flowers, scanning the multitude of colorful blooms as you figure out which lucky flowers will be in your crown.

You take a quick look at the cluster of wisteria creeping through the quaint archway of your outdoor workshop. Its hanging blooms sway softly in the light wind of the afternoon as you think about its meaning: the welcoming flower of enduring love. The small blossoms would do well as the base of the flower crown. You reach for the traditional purple blooms, but your hand pauses when you spot a cluster of pink wisteria. A soft smile curls on your lips as you pick a couple of those vines instead since its meaning perfectly matches your own most recent feelings of blossoming love.

It only takes a few more steps through the garden until you find the other lucky flowers to grace your crown. A couple of butterflies are fluttering around your asters, the talisman of love and patience. While the butterflies enjoy their sweet nectar, you ponder which color would look best with pink wisteria. Let’s see: white, red, pink, purple, blue…aha! A group of lavender asters catch your eye and you enthusiastically pick a big bunch of the starry blooms.

You make your way back to the house and head for your office, grabbing the necessary supplies needed before sitting down at your desk. Your mind begins to wander as you measure a couple of pieces of florist wire around your head, replaying all the moments Vergil made you laugh and blush while helping you. You remember the time he had to take off his signature coat, and he caught you staring at his impressive arms. That cocky smirk of his never fails to make your heart tremble. There was also the time he got his hair wet, his grumpy face reminding you a cat getting caught in a rainstorm. His silver blue eyes flashed in irritation and he scowled when you could not hold your laughter any longer.

Your trip down memory lane ends when you wrap the final piece of floral tape around an aster. There! You hold it out for inspection, making sure that all the blooms are in tip top shape before going to the mirror down the hall. Your hair is already styled into a loose fishtail braid, so all you need is a couple of bobby pins to keep it in place. Luckily, you always carry some in your dress pocket, and it only takes a few careful moments of pining before the flower crown adorns your head. You do a little spin in the mirror, making sure the pink floral pattern of your dress matches the crown as it softly flares out.

You have never looked more ravishing than you do at this moment.

Vergil’s words come to the forefront of your mind, sending pleasant tingles all through your body. You bounce around like a bumblebee in front of the mirror while giggling and clapping your hands in excitement. As you head back to the kitchen, you recall how happy those words made you that day when they were uttered from your handsome devil. Honestly, you are still slightly shocked that he accepted your dandelions. And when he presented a cabbage rose and put it in your hair...your cheeks still turn pink just thinking about it!

When you to get to the kitchen, you make sure that the red velvet slices have risen enough before sliding them into the preheated oven. While they bake to perfection you get started on another craft project: putting together a decorative pastry box. You reach into the cupboard where some are stored and take out a light pink one with an elegant white swirl pattern. A bright idea suddenly pops into your head as you put the box together and you quickly go back to your office for a felt tip pen.

You meticulously write in perfect cursive Things that fall on the inside of the lid, making sure it is written in the perfect position so it can be read correctly when opened. Next, you write some things that fall inside the bottom of the box, purposefully putting the most important thing in the middle. Lastly, you measure out a square of translucent parchment paper and place it inside the box.

The timer goes off on your stove and you promptly put on an ovenmitt before taking out the pan. Your keen eyes check to see if the red velvet cinnamon rolls are done before setting them to the side. While they cool off a bit, you swiftly whip up some white icing and drizzle it over the warm rolls. The sugary glaze melts beautifully and drips off the side of the rolls, making you lick your lips as you begin to crave the baked treat.

No, no, no…these aren’t for me, you silently chide yourself as you open a nearby drawer to grab a spatula and diligently lift the rolls from the pan, placing them carefully into the prepared pastry box. You are just about to close the box when you think of a last-minute detail for the rolls, instantly rushing out your back door and straight to the rose section of your garden. While you are browsing and smelling the roses, you check on the special ones you are secretly growing for Vergil. Their blue buds have begun to bloom, but they are not quite ready for presenting yet.

Your lips curve into a fond smile as you remember the day you first met your prickly devil, frantically planting blue roses in the rain as soon as you arrived home. You always pictured the rose among his briars to be blue, extraordinarily wonderful and unique as well as notoriously unattainable. But you meant what you said to Vergil in the book café…that despite impossible odds you will never back down as you gently pry apart the thorns in search of such splendor.

Ah! This is no time to dilly-dally! You shake your head and redouble your efforts to concentrate on the task at hand. After a couple more minutes of browsing you pick a small bunch of sweetbriar roses and hurry back to the kitchen, grabbing a handful of forget-me-nots on the way for flower shower purposes. You rinse the sweetbriar roses in the sink, dry them with a paper towel, and garnish the rolls with their bright pink blooms. And when you are done decorating, your red velvet cinnamon rolls look more like a delicious bouquet of red roses.

Perfect!

A rush of excitement bursts through your body as you close the pastry box and seal it shut with a floral sticker. You also grab a small box full of homemade strawberry donuts you made earlier and place it on top of the pastry box. They are for Dante since he occasionally came over to help as well, usually doing the regular deliveries around the city for you. It also ensures that he does not try to steal one of Vergil’s treats. There is one thing you have found out while hanging out with both Sons of Sparda: they bicker and fight constantly like normal siblings. Well, almost normal if you count summoning swords as an everyday occurrence during arguments.

You grab your purse, carry the boxes down the hall, and head out the front door. The weather is clear and sunny as you walk happily down the street towards Vergil’s home and place of employment. You are not sure if he will be there or if he will even be happy to see you after dropping by unannounced, but considering how many times he has startled you with his sudden presence in your garden…it only seems fair that you pop by and surprise him your sweet rosy treats.

Hopefully, he won’t be too annoyed with me once he sees these edible blooms! you thought with a giggle, already seeing the grumpy lines on Vergil’s face easing into softer expression. This is the only thing you could think of to properly thank him for all the help with the flowers…and for always being there to protect you. It did not escape your notice that he is always ever vigilant, his keen eyes watching for any sign of danger while he helped you with the flowers. And he would always urge you to go back inside your house as soon as night fell when he could not stay late, making you promise him that you would not do any late-night harvesting. And you always smile and oblige him because you know that is his own way of showing that he really cares for you too.

It does not take long for you to walk the short distance from your house to the shop. You pause at the foot of the steps and look up the building, noting the stylish neon sign reading Devil May Cry above the double doors. Well, here goes nothing! You enthusiastically hop up the steps and knock on the door…but nobody answers. Hmm, they must not be home. Your cheerful demeanor deflates a little, but you are not willing to give up yet. You knock again and there is still no answer. You glance down at the handle and decide to turn it, even though you guess it is probably locked.

But to your surprise, the handle turns without much effort and the door cracks open. You peek your head through the door and take a look inside the shop. The lights are on, but it is very quiet. Your eyes make out a couch, a desk, and a jukebox. “Hello?” you call out, hearing your voice echo throughout the room. “Is anyone here?” You wait a moment for a reply before opening the door wider and passing through the threshold of the shop.

The door closes behind you and your eyes scan around what looks to be an office of sorts. You are now able to see a small bar in one corner of the room and a staircase to your left beside the desk. Your nose twitches as you detect the faint odor of something moldy underneath the musty smell of dust. This must be Dante’s space, you conclude, there is no way Vergil would be this messy! You walk over to the desk and put the pastry boxes down gently on it, pushing aside a couple of swimsuit magazines to make some room along with your purse.

An ornate picture frame sitting in one corner of the desk catches your eye. You get curious about whose portrait is in the frame, so you go around the desk to get a better look. A beautiful woman with golden blond hair wrapped in a crimson red shawl stands alone in the picture, green eyes sparkling as a tender smile graces her lips. Oh wow…this must be their mother. You remember Vergil describing her to you once, emphasizing the way she gently nurtured him and his brother with kindness. Your heart breaks when you recall the sadness that is always in his eyes when he talks about her...both of her boys must miss her a lot.

You can sympathize with them a little, mourning the loss of your own mother...even though you are not certain if she is even passed away. Your head tilts as you remember the burgundy roses Dante always asks for when he visits. The last small bouquet must have wilted since they are nowhere to be seen on the desk. Why didn’t I think to bring more? you silently berate yourself, but quickly come up with an alternative. You reach into your dress pocket, take out a few forget-me-nots, and place them in front of the portrait of Eva Sparda.

There. Gone but not forgotten.

You call out a couple more times just to make sure that there really is no one home. When only silence answers, you decide to at least put your baked treats in their kitchen. “They must have one…right?” you mutter quietly to yourself as you look around. There is a beat-up fridge next to the jukebox, but you do spot a side room by the bar and go check to see if it leads to a real kitchen.

And it turns out that it does…but this poor kitchen has seen better days. The trashcan is overflowing as well as surrounded by multiple bags of what is assuredly more trash. There are an assortment of dirty dishes, tools, and knick-knacks on the countertops and the sink is full of even more dishes…even though there is a dishwasher right next to it. Just the very sight of all this filth and clutter in the kitchen makes your skin crawl. You slowly back away like an animal sensing a nearby predator and take a deep breath.

Oh no no no…this will not do.

The sudden urge to clean overwhelms you as your fists clench tight and you stick your chin out in determination. You march back into the gross kitchen and start opening up cabinets, figuring out where they keep their cleaning supplies. Your very thorough search results in a roll of paper towels, cleaning spray, and a half empty box of trash bags. The dishwasher happens to be empty, so you load it up with the dirty dishes from the sink before moving onto the absolute mountain of trash. One by one you take each bag out to the outdoor trashcan next to the stoop of the shop until it is completely full, leaving only one bag left to sit beside the can.

The next place you hit during your cleaning frenzy is the kitchen countertops. You put all the dirty dishes in the sink, collect the tools and knick-knacks into one pile, and throw away all trash into the now empty trashcan. There are a few stains on the counters, so you spritz the surface with the cleaning spray and wipe them down with paper towels. You swipe the light sweat you worked up off your brow, knocking your flower crown askew as you check your progress.

The countertops are spotless, the dishwasher is almost done cleaning the first load of dishes, and the floor is completely clear of all trash. It can be cleaner…but this will have to do for now. You nod your head in approval while you cross your arms and smirk in victory. You go back to the desk, pick up the pastry boxes, and take them back to the now neat and tidy kitchen. As you place them on the clean counter you notice a stain you missed during your cleaning tirade. Your eyes squint in annoyance as you reach for the cleaning spray and wipe the pesky stain away before deeming this kitchen officially spick and span.

“Wow! I can’t believe Dante actually hired someone to clean his mess!”

A feminine voice knocks you out of your cleaning stupor and you turn towards the door. A woman with short dark hair is standing in the entrance as she stares at you curiously. You notice that one of her eyes is red while the other bluish green. Her attire confuses you slightly, a mix of casual and military with the silky white blouse and black leather leggings covering her legs.

“Oh! Uh…I’m not…well, you see…”

As you struggle a little to explain your spontaneous cleaning session, another woman steps up next to the dark-haired lady. Your eyes widen as you try to hold back a shocked gasp. Her face is the spitting image of Vergil’s mother, but instead of a red shawl she is wearing black leather pants and a revealing corset that shows off her midriff. She also does not exude the warmth of the woman in the portrait as she eyes you suspiciously. You clear your throat and try to explain yourself again when another woman in a white summer dress peeks through the other two, her auburn locks and sunny smile instantly recognizable as she waves at you.

“Hey!” Kyrie beams as she gently pushes past the two women and pulls you into her welcoming embrace. “It’s great to see you again!” You return the hug with a grateful grin before she stands next to you and loops her hand around your arm. “Lady, Trish…this is Y/N!” she introduces you with a bright smile. “The florist who saved my big day!”

Both women glance at each other as their expressions lighten up with realization. “Oh! You’re the flower friend I keep hearing about!” The dark short haired woman, who you believe is Lady, leans casually against the doorframe. “Nice to meet you!” she exclaims with a playfully wave.

“Hey,” the other woman, who must be Trish, addresses you with a slight nod of her head.

Before you can even respond, Nero peeks over Lady’s shoulder. He scans the clean kitchen and blinks his eyes in disbelief. “Are we even in the right place?”

Nico pokes her head around Trish’s arm and takes a gander as well. “Yeah, where’d all the trash go?”

All their expectant eyes are suddenly upon you and you could not help to feel a little self-conscious as you shrug your shoulders. “I uh…can’t stand a messy kitchen?” you feebly explain with a toothy grin.

“So, you broke into my shop just to clean my kitchen, huh?”

A very amused Dante makes his way through the small crowd that has amassed around the doorway. “Aloe there!” he exclaims with a cheeky grin and a wink. You roll your eyes as he strokes his stubbly chin and walks into his now immaculate kitchen. His usual unkempt hair is pulled up into a ponytail and, for some reason, he is not wearing his very expensive red leather coat or his grubby gray shirt.

“What’s up, succa?” you reply back with your own grin before playfully glaring at him, not even fazed by his shirtless appearance. Dante leans casually against the counter as you launch into a perfectly rational explanation of your actions. “Okay, first of all, I did not break in…the door was unlocked.”

“Really, Dante? How foolish.”

Your body shivers the moment you hear the familiar snarky voice of Vergil. He pushes past the crowd around the kitchen doorway and your eyes widen as you notice that he is not wearing his usual vest and coat. Whoa…the power of Sparda must include all the muscles. Kyrie gently squeeze your arm, which blessedly reminds you that this is not the time to be caught ogling his bare chest. You hope no one becomes aware of your flushed state, but a sharp glint in Vergil’s fierce gaze tells you that he definitely notices the all too familiar blush on your cheeks.

Dante answers his brother criticism nonchalantly, either totally oblivious of your flustered state or showing mercy by pretending that nothing is amiss. “Huh, guess I forgot to lock the door…my bad!”

You try very hard not to stutter as you continue with your tangent. “Second of all, I can’t stand a messy kitchen. And third of all…I needed the room!”

Trish chuckles and nods. “She’s got ya there, Dante.”

“Yeah!” Lady agrees as she steps into the kitchen and pokes Dante’s accusingly on the arm. “Except it should be you cleaning your own damn mess!”

But Dante is too busy fixated on the last point you made. “Making room?” He quirks an eyebrow as his eyes light up in anticipation. “For what?”

“I made you both some treats!” You give both the brothers a big grin as they both look down at the counter. Vergil furrows his brow as he eyes the pastry boxes with curious interest while Dante is already gunning for the biggest box. “Hey!” you snap as you lightly slap his hand away. “No! That one is Vergil’s.” You pick up and hold out the smaller box towards him. “This one is yours.”

A round of snickers resounds in the kitchen while Dante shakes his hand, even though you are pretty sure that he is exaggerating his injury. “Aww c’mon, Buttercup!” he pouts. “How come frowny flower over there gets the bigger box? I thought I was your favorite,” he claims in a hurt tone while clutching his chest. You catch Vergil rolling his eyes and shaking his head at his brother.

“Don’t be ranunculus!” you laugh while waving the boxed treats in front of his face. “It’s what you’ve been hounding me to make every time you visit,” you gleefully entice him with an arched eyebrow.

“Strawberry donuts?!” Dante gasps in surprise as he finally reaches the coveted prize he has been begging for ever since you first met him in your garden.

Lady lunges for the pastry box and successfully grabs it before Dante. “I believe these will do nicely as compensation!” she explains hastily while running out of the kitchen.

“Compensation?! For what?!” Dante yells as he pursues his donut thief.

“You’re welcome!” you call out dryly before shaking your head at them. Trish shrugs as she follows behind Dante and Lady while Kyrie laughs quietly besides you. Vergil’s eyes flicker between the lone pastry box and you as he walks closer to the counter. Kyrie says that she is going to check and make sure they are not making even more of a mess of the shop before retreating from the kitchen…leaving you alone with a very bare-chested Vergil Sparda.

You can feel heat emanating from his body as he steps up close to you and it takes all of your willpower to not openly gawk at his perfectly sculpted abdomen or his well-defined pecs. “You do know he’ll just beg you for more food now, right?” Vergil points out as he peers down at you.

“Oh, it’s okay!” You smile up at him and laugh softly. “I thought it would be a nice thank you gift for him.” You slide his own thank you gift on the counter towards him. “And it did distract him from stealing your treats!”

Vergil hums as his lips lift into a soft smile. “Very clever,” he comments as he raises his hand and carefully adjusts the slightly crooked flower crown on your head. Your mind checks out for a moment as the scent of bergamot overpowers your senses. “How are you doing today, Y/N?”

“I’m doing pretty boy…GOOD. Pretty good!” you stammer, quickly correcting your blundering words. But it is already too late since Vergil totally heard your blunt admiration. His soft smile turns into a smug grin as your cheeks turn absolutely red with embarrassment. “Yeah…I’m doing pretty good,” you mutter weakly as you avoid his amused gaze, taking a sudden interest in your shoes.

“I’m glad that you’re doing…pretty good,” Vergil suddenly murmurs by your ear, causing you to squeal softly in surprise. You look back up at him and huff in annoyance at the sight of his very pleased expression as he opens the pastry box. “You made these for me?” He tilts his head a little as he leans in to get a better look at the decadent bouquet of red velvet roses and the phrase written on the inside of the lid.

You nod your head demurely. “I wanted to thank you for helping me with the flowers. It’s one of my favorite recipes. Do you wanna try a bite?” you offer as you reach for the roll of paper towels still sitting on the counter. “If you don’t like it I could-”

“I’d enjoy anything made by you,” he gently interjects, silver blue eyes shifting over to meet your gaze. They bore into you with a soft intensity that only Vergil can pull off. You smile at his genuine compliment as you rip a square of paper towel and place it next to the box. “But if you insist,” he chuckles as you carefully take out one of the sweet rolls, revealing the word petals, rain, and stars beneath the translucent parchment paper.

You place the red velvet treat on the paper towel and unravel a small piece of the roll, making sure that it has a healthy portion of icing on it before offering it to him. Vergil squints at the words you have written on the bottom of the box as he takes the piece of sweet roll, giving it a light sniff before taking a bite. Moments like this always makes you so happy as you watch him chew, seeing a spark of delight in his eyes as he tastes your homed baked treat. It also gives you a good excuse to subtly admire his well-defined jawline and velvety pink lips.

“Good?” you ask as soon as he swallows the treat, not even trying to hide the excitement in your voice.

“It’s delicious,” he declares with a grateful smirk.

You notice a small glob of icing stuck by one of his charming dimples. “You have a little…” you trail off as you gesture towards his cheek, trying to denote where he should wipe his face. He brushes that side of his face, but the glob of icing somehow survives the sweeping of his hand. “Here,” you sigh as you take a step closer to him. “I’ll just…” You reach up with your hand and swipe the icing off with your thumb.

“There we go!” you remark as another one of your devious ploys pops into you head. Your lips curl into an impish grin as you bring your hand to your mouth and suck the icing off your thumb, making sure your eyes never stray from Vergil’s intense gaze as you do so. You see the pupils of his eyes dilate dramatically as they hone in on your mouth, watching attentively as your tongue peeks out a little to lick the icing. The barest hint of blush appears on his cheeks when you hum in pleasure. You let the provocative moment drag on for a bit before asking the usual question that always brings him back to reality.

“Flower for your thoughts?”

That stunning jawline you adore so much clenches tight as the sharp glint in Vergil’s eyes from earlier comes back in full force. The soft blue hue of his irises seems to ignite as your entire body is electrified by the low rumbling growl emitting from his throat. Your heart beats faster than the wings of a hummingbird as the gorgeous devil of your daydreams and fantasies leans in closer…

The sound of the kitchen door crashing unceremoniously against the wall makes you jump back in alarm. Both of your heads snap over and you sigh in relief when you see it is just Dante lying on the floor. He is clutching the now beat up pastry box close to his chest while vigorously chewing the strawberry donut sticking out of his mouth. You are a little annoyed with him since you will never find out what would have happened if he had not interrupted Vergil’s approach…but you know that it is not his fault, so you just let your agitation go with a sweet smile.

Vergil snarls and stares down at his meddlesome brother menacingly, scolding him for frightening you with his ridiculous antics. Dante grins sheepishly as he stands up and apologizes for scaring you, but you just laugh since you have gotten used to his sudden bursts of chaotic energy. His mischievous eyes dart between you and Vergil before he informs his surly brother that they still need get ready before everyone leaves them behind. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion before they shoot up as you realize just how long you have been here.

“Oh snapdragons! It’s almost dinner time!”

You let out a string of your own apologies for taking up their time with your surprise visit as you rush out of the kitchen. Nero, Kyrie, and Nico are sitting in the couch while Trish and Lady are standing by the bar in the corner of the office. They all look over in interest as you scurry over to the desk and sling your purse over your shoulder. You are about to say your farewells to everyone when a familiar hand brushes against your arm.

Vergil gently coaxes you to turn around and face him. You notice that endearing crinkle between his brow is scrunched up in thought as he speaks. “Would you like to join us for dinner?”

“Would you like to join us forever?!” came Dante’s very boisterous addendum from the kitchen. This earns a very harsh glower directed at the kitchen door from Vergil while you giggle softly. Everyone else in the shop either laughs or just sighs and shakes their head at the door.

You glance over at Vergil’s hand still holding onto your arm, considering his gracious invitation to dinner with the whole crew. You cannot even recall the last time you went out to eat in the city, much less spend time with anyone outside of your business. In fact, you have not been this sociable in a long time…seeing the whole crew laughing and joking together reminds you of the family you wished you had growing up.

The longing for familial company bubbles in the pit of your stomach now. You have gotten used to being alone all the time, but maybe…you are like that one bud that blooms too soon in a bed of flowers: lonely for a time as its petals bask in the sunlight, but waiting patiently as it hopes for rain…so that the fellow buds may grow, bloom, and become a family of flowers.

Perhaps the rain has finally come.

Perhaps you don’t have to be a lonely flower.

“Yes!” you blurt out as you run a finger up the inside of Vergil’s forearm, gazing up at him warmly as you subtly get his attention. A brilliant smile blooms on your face as you nod your head eagerly. “Yes…I’d love to join you all for dinner!”

Vergil begins to smile back, but the crashing of the kitchen door again twists his lips into a grimace. Dante zooms by the desk, puts an arm around his brother’s shoulder, and practically pulls him up the stairs. Their brotherly squabbles echo through the office and, going by the harsh grunt, ends when Dante gets stabbed.

Kyrie ushers you to sit on the couch while you wait, chatting about how you made the strawberry donuts and promising to swap recipes sometime. Nero and Nico soon join in and, as you laugh along with Kyrie at all their jokes and banter, you no longer feel like that one lone bud hoping for rain.

You have finally found your family of flowers at Devil May Cry.

Read Part 7 (Ch. 2) here

Read on Ao3

My Master List if you want more. 💕

Tagging: @drusoona, @bettybattaglia, @exsultry, @thedyingmoon, @veenus-ow, @meowykittenn, @fandomhell97, @vergilsangel, @venomous-lawyer, @thenightgazer, @cherryvane, @yesno18, @diabeticsugarush, @queenmuzz, @mary-v-o-n, @tinamalee, @a-midsummer-nights-odyssey, @divinity-deos, @ancientwhitefire, @agentdedf1sh, @clevermentalitybeliever

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icedcappujaeno · 5 years

Text

03. Signal. | jjh. [ idol!au ]

warnings: none in particular.

word count: 1,547

“There’s something on your sandwich.”

Before you could even react, Soomin was already taking the sandwich off your hands, peeled the piece of paper away and gave it back to you. Your stomach growled for the 3rd time today and it was only 10A.M. - and the only meal that was in your stomach right now was the small cup of coffee your manager made for you before going to your respective schedules. Now, you’re inside the dressing room, taking a break for at least 10 minutes before your respective make-up artists and hairdresser do their works on your trio.

To say that you’re hungry was an understatement. Famished seemed to fit better with how badly you want to take a bite off the sandwich you’re holding right now. Though you try your best not to roll your eyes and grunt as it was deemed unfit for a lady-like idol like you, you still did. Voluntarily.

“Let me guess, it’s from Valentine’s boy again?” Mari giggled, taking a bite off her own sandwich as well. “I wish Chanyeol-sunbae would do the same for m-ouch!”

You glared and pinched your co-worker’s side before she could even end her statement. All the while she’s talking, you finished your share - all in hunger. Your female manager was glaring daggers at your direction but you heed no mind - what is etiquette and public figure when you’re dying of hunger in any moment?

Also, you did glare at your other manager, who was a male. It was him who went to the cafeteria and got your snacks, and apparently, he was an asset to all these stuff. He only shrugged and chuckled, so he was taking part in this - why was it so fun to tease you with Jaehyun?

“What did it say?” Mari cooed, leaving her seat beside yours to scoot beside Soomin.

“For the meantime, I hope this will do. But next time, I want to take you out on a romantic dinner for two. - JH”

Soomin and Mari looked at each other with knowing smiles on their lips.

“Gross!”

“But it’s still sweet Soomin! And it rhymes too!” Mari laughed, slapping Soomin’s thigh out of habit.

You only blew a raspberry, and your manager thanked all the heavens that your hair isn’t done yet as your hands ran through your hair in frustration - forehead lightly bumping the tabletop. You were sure it will leave a red mark - but whatever, your make-up artist would do something about it anyway.

“Why don’t you just tell it to him straight?” Soomin shrugged, picking one of the sliced apples from her plate. “It’s been months, I kinda feel pity for the guy.”

“He’s going to be enlisted next year!” Mari reminded. “At least give him a chance? I mean, he’s pretty cute-”

“Why don’t you date him then?” You jabbered and raised your head.

“Ah, Jaehyun’s not really my type. I told you, Chanyeol-su-”

“I get it,” your eyes rolled annoyingly. Although sometimes Mari’s crush over your seniors are cute, it gets overboard. But now you know she’s just teasing you. Everybody does.

“Break’s over, let’s get back to work,” your female manager said, cleaning up the left-overs at your table while the three of you go back to your respective places to get dolled up for music core.

“This came in the mail.”

A bouquet is thrown on your bed by your female manager while you were busy putting make-up on. You were glad she came in with notice because you were sure that your make-up will get ruined once she didn’t. Another thing you’re sure of was the sender of the said bouquet, and looking at your manager’s expression through the mirror, she wasn’t very happy about it.

“Message him to stop, please.” Though you weren’t pleading, rather than a command. You could only sigh and nodded, saying that you will and she left. You picked up your phone and took a deep breath before typing in his name on the recipient bar.

It only took you seconds before you received a reply.

You sighed. Pretty sure this is going to be a long conversation. You know he’s joking, but the topic isn’t going anywhere intellectual.

Finally.

You locked your phone and continued with your make-up. You were glad that you woke up earlier than expected, so you had a lot of time to prepare for an appearance at a music festival later at night. For a moment, you felt weird with Jaehyun’s final reply. It felt odd but you carried on, and just when you finished your brows, his message tone ringed and your phone lit up.

Ugh!

Jaehyun was at his peak.

A solo single coming out to the public in 2 days, which concludes fan signs on the following weeks during the promotion. Music shows and award show appearances. Another recording for collaboration for SMTOWN Station in the next month. Jaehyun did have time, but it was all cramped on his busy, idol, schedule.

All while the others are still in the military, Jaehyun and the remaining had to carry their group name, as well as keep the sales coming for the company. The idol industry isn’t just entertainment, after all. In the end, it was business -- the rest of those who still haven’t enlisted must carry on.

And because Jaehyun is going to be enlisted for the next year and a half - it was only necessary that the company utilize each member, especially Jaehyun. In this current generation, Jaehyun is a King - all with his god-like visuals and heaven-sent voice, it was sure that he’ll be stable until his enlistment.

But all that, King Jaehyun is lonely. Sure, his entire body and soul is dedicated to his work - it’s his life. But his heart was needing something - someone to fill its void. And he was pursuing that need, the need that was you.

“Have you heard?”

Soomin asked, looking directly at your eating figure. You were slurping on a cup of ramyeon as you watched The King of Masked Singer with your team: squished between you and your female manager was Mari while Soomin rests her head on your crossed legs.

“Heard what?” You replied, slurping on another set of noodles.

Soomin wiped her face in disgust while some of the ramyeon soup went on her face. “God, I wish our fans could see how much of a pig you are.”

“Whatever,” you replied.

“What were you going to say Soomin?” Mari asked, eyes still glued on the TV. It was very much expected of Mari not to forget rumors — but not choreo. You still love her anyway.

“Jaehyun was rushed to the hospital just this afternoon.”

You coughed, dropping some blessing onto Soomin’s face causing her to jump.

“Ya!”

Thankfully there was a nightstand beside the couch where you placed your ramyeon. You wiped your mouth from the droplets of spicy and salty ramyeon and immediately fished your phone from the side of the couch and dialed Jaehyun’s number.

The other line answered, Jaehyun’s voice resonating through.

“Yes hello? It’s rare for you to call,” you hear him chuckle.

“Are you okay sunbae?”

“What do you mean?”

Your brows raised with his question — confusion was written all over your face. Soomin shrugged and stood from where she sat, Mari and your manager following you. As soon as they had their backs on you, they giggled, making you miss the smug grins on their faces.

“Hello? Still there?” Jaehyun asked on the line.

“Yes, Soomin told me you were rushed to the hospital—“

“I’m perfectly fine,” he laughs. “I think you just missed me.”

You felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. Proven, you were stupid enough to fall for Soomin and Mari’s tricks. You were thankful that Jaehyun can’t see your face as you were sure that your face is as red as a tomato right now.

“I’m just worried…” with threaded words you replied.

“Sure you do,” and sure you were that he was being sarcastic.

“Sunbae…” You could only flop your butt back on the couch, palming your forehead of how much dumb you are.

“Well, I’m glad that my baby missed me, but break’s over and I have to head back to practice,” he chuckled.

“Alright,” you sighed. Yes, you heard the name he called you, but you were sure that if you mention it more, more teasings would come your way. You decided to pretend that you didn’t hear it. “Goodluck with practice, Jaehyun-sunbae.”

You hear the line go silent that you thought he ended it without you noticing, but when you looked at the screen, he was still on. You put your phone back beside your ear and hummed. “Sunbae, put the line down.”

“Why don’t you go first?” His tone was teasing—you could almost see the smugness written all over his features.

“Alright. Bye sunbae.”

With that, you pressed the red button on your phone and tossed it aside—The King of Masked Singer already on its ending cue.

On the other line, however, was Jaehyun lying on the hospital bed, IV inserted on his median cubital. His lips tugged into a smile as the call ended as your photo with him flashed on the screen.

“Hard to get, are we?”

the third fic for @jackbabewang and I’s drabble game! check out her work here!

#jaehyun fic #jaehyun drabble #jaehyun fluff #nct drabbles #nct imagines #jaehyun angst #nct jaehyun #jaehyun scenario #nct jaehyun scenario #jung jaehyun

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