#you’re thinking of a toasted sandwich

[lilgynt]

kinda wish i didn’t get triggered in my house so often. such is life

#personal #me cleaning the kitchens: oh here’s the cupboard my brother broke but my mom got mad at me for not fixing faster. okay. #oh yeah i remember when i made mom a sandwich and then when i asked if she could just eat it as is after she asked me to toast it she threw #it at the wall and i had to clean it up after #oh hey washing my hands i remember my dad calling me his angel and not to leave him while i walked him to and from the bathroom #now let’s remember him screaming for help in the hospital top of his lungs after i explained we couldn’t remove the hand restraints bc he #was hurting himself that’s cool. also his neighbor who would just scream for hours on end and was maybe a year younger than me #i hope he’s doing better #or a big one in a thing my city is known for and everytime i see it im like oh yeah the first time i went there i had a huge break down #like jumping up and down crying over a dad thing #that’s more outside the house but someone made a comment after i mentioned it as a bad memory and it’s been a worse memory since #bc it just feel like all i have as reference is terrible things #or i was mopping the floor thinking about my brother coming to town and holidays and sure everything’s fine between us but #holidays aren’t usually good for me. #like ohhhh cleaning the kitchen #remember that time ben said he’d help and you got annoyed he didn’t so he absolutely tore you a new one of how awful of a person you were #made fun of you crying then demended an apology later even tho u were sobbing in ur room and ur mom was talking about what an awful perso #you are and he was talking about how you’re ruining the holiday #and then you drank most of ur beers in one night bc it was awful #or christmas when ur brother broke ur door after u left the room he was kicking apart and screaming about how this is ur fault #getting little flashes of those memories randomly for literally any room or my house is so epic and im so normal about it #you know what i kinda forget how fucked up my family is till i write it down bc like in the moment #oh bad memeory moving on bc im gonna get real upset but hm. gonna be normal about this and surely don’t have long lasting issues

[wooataes]

Bangtan’s Receptionist

Pairing: Mafia Boss!Min Yoongi x Fem!Reader, implied ot7 x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Mafia AU, swearing, Death, blood, injuries, mentions of human trafficking but nothing too detailed, guns, character death.

Summary: Bangtan’s contracts are clear and concise. They are to be followed to the letter, including the most important rule, do not touch their men.

A/N: Just another generic Mafia Yoongi Drabble I couldn’t stop thinking about since Haegeum came out. 🫠 I could possibly turn this into a little oneshot series for each member, let me know if you want more!

- Tae 🥰💜✨

Request to join my taglist here!

Masterlist

Min Yoongi, in simple terms, is a straight cut business man. With his 6 other colleagues, his brothers, he runs Bangtan Industries, which on the outside seems like a clean cut courier company. On the inside however, the cargo that is transported by Bangtan Industries is more than just letters and stationary for offices. Yoongi and his boys, as the rivals know them, are extremely loyal to their men who work alongside and under them, even so far as to including in contracts that they can be terminated if any harm comes to any member of Bangtan Industries, even as far as the janitor who cleans the office on weekends. Any attack on their men is an attack to them directly, and the whole world knows of this fact.

You were hired 3 years ago by the CEO of Bangtan, Kim Namjoon to be the front of the company, their receptionist and on occasion, assistant for all 7 leaders. They’re all particularly fond of your bubbly presence in the office building, always happily greeting the bosses with a smile and providing homemade lunches on occasion, which usually is more often than not. You always make sure the boys keep their health up, not even phased by their attitudes when they spent too many hours without sleep. You’ve been the most consistent employee, and the members are more than grateful to have you.

“Good morning, Master Min!” You chirp as Min Yoongi strolls through the office door, adjusting his tie. He can’t help but give you a soft smile.

“Y/N, you know that I’d rather you call me Yoongi when its just us. It doesn’t bother me.”

“Oh, I know, I’m just way too used to it!” You grin as you place a take-away coffee cup and a wrapped toasted sandwich on the desk in front of you. “Breakfast is served.”

“You also don’t have to do that every morning too.” He lets out a huff with a grateful smile. “I hope you got your usual too. If I find out you didn’t, I’m forcing you to take your break early to go get.” Yoongi chuckles as you wave the second paper cup on your hands. He nods with finality and takes your makeshift breakfast for him and makes his way to his office.

After a quiet morning, you’re startled by a loud bang of the doors to the entrance opening and a large man in a 3 piece suit with his gaggle of men trailing in behind him, clearly armed, stalking up to your front desk.

“Good morning, sir. How can I be of help today?” You hum, the large men not phasing you.

“We’re here to see Min.” The man grumbles, hands squeezing the edge of the desk.

“Oh of course,” you smile, typing up on your computer. “Give me a few moments to see if he’s available to see anyone right now.”

You can feel the mans eyes on you as you’re typing, waiting for the response to pop up.

“Ah, I’m sorry sir, Master Min isn’t available right now. You are more than welcome to take a seat and wait until he’s ready-”

You yelp as the man reaches over, grabbing your wrist and pulling you up so you are face to face with him. You wince, his nails digging into your skin and small trickles of blood running down your arm.

“Listen here, you little bitch,” he seethes, “i have been trying to get on Min’s ass for 2 weeks about my fucking cargo I purchased from him and it still hasn’t arrived yet. If you don’t get him out here, I’m storming in there myself and getting my shit back.”

“What on earth is going on here?” Yoongi steps out from his office after hearing the commotion, adjusting the cuff on his white button up as he stalks up to the reception desk. “Ah, Mr Yang. I was waiting for you to show up.”

“Min.” Yang hissed, dropping your wrist and pushing you back into your seat, which Yoongi takes note of. “Where the fuck is my cargo? You said it would be here within the month and yet its the 27th and nothing.”

“Miss L/N.” Yoongi speaks, causing you to snap your head towards him. “Did he hurt you?” He eyes your wrist, which you’re trying to hide under the desk, clearly not very well as it is still in Yoongi’s line of vision.

“O-oh, no, Master Min. I’m fine, really.” You stutter out, giving him a smile.

“I will deal with you after I take care of business.” He murmurs, looking down at your hidden wrist, blood smearing into your blouse. “Mr Yang, if you could come inside. I do believe my receptionist shouldnt have to deal with the likes of this, wouldn’t you agree?” His tone is icy as Yang grunts, nodding his head before pushing past Yoongi and strutting through into his office with his men following behind. “Y/N, I would recommend playing sone music for the next 10 minutes, okay?” is the last thing Yoongi asks of you before closing the door behind him.

“I dont understand why you are so upset, Yang. I gave you exactly what you asked for.” Yoongi hums, sitting at his desk and watching Yang and his men stand over the desk menacingly.

“Thats bullshit and you know it, Min.” He barked, slamming his fist on the table.

“Oh, is it?” He raises his eyebrow, leaning forward and placing his chin on his hands. “Do explain why, because the way I see it, you asked for X amount of drugs and X amount of guns and ammo. Am I wrong?”

“You know what half of those drugs were code for, you ignorant shit.”

“Oh, no no no.” Yoongi chuckled, standing up, revolver in hand. “See, now, if you were implying what you think you are implying, and I truly hope you’re not, then you’ve worked with the wrong man.” He smirked, holding the gun up towards Yang.

“You see, if you read through the terms of our contract - Bangtan do not associate with anything involving trafficking women and children. I truly hope that isnt what you wanted.” Yoongi tilted his head, glaring at Yang. “Is it?”

Yang swallowed lightly, looking between his men, who all have their guns by their sides and their hands up. They know Min’s reputation. They know better than to fuck with them.

“Ah…” Yang sighed anxiously, wiping a bead of sweat from his forehead. “You are right. I believe I was mistaken. It appears that all our cargo was in order. Isn’t that right, boys?” He glanced between his men, who all nod shakily. “Now that we have that misunderstanding out of the way, I don’t think there’s anything else to talk about, so I will take my leave now, Min.” He turns to leave, only to freeze when the revolver now presses against his temple.

“Ah ah ah, not so fast.” Yoongi chuckles, kicking Yang’s knees out from underneath him, forcing him to kneel. “I would’ve been willing to let you go, no questions asked about what fucked up shit you’re into,” he leans down now, whispering into his ear. “but then you laid hands on my receptionist.”

Yang’s eyes widen, struggling against Yoongi’s boot digging into his legs. “What?” he breathed out.

“Did you even read the contract, Yang?” Yoongi hissed now, pressing the gun harder against his head. “Now, you are more than welcome to come in here, ranting and raving about me and the shit I do, I really couldnt give a flying fuck.. but as soon as you touch my people and my men, now theres fucking hell to pay. Rule number fucking 3 my friend. Do NOT touch my men. Do you have anything to say to defend your pathetic ass?”

“I’m sorry,” Yang blubbers out, hands shaking. “I really didn’t mean it, Min! I-I-”

“Save it for hell, Yang.” He squeezes the trigger, letting the body fall to the floor.

“Come on,” you hissed, aggressively rubbing water over the sleeve of your blouse, earphones blaring music in your ears as Yoongi directed. You’ve been scrubbing for 5 minutes and sadly nothing is working for you. At this point, you haven’t even looked at your arm, now bruising and stained with small trails of your blood.

A figure steps into your line of sight, causing you to lift your head quickly and push the headphones off your head. “Oh, Master Min!” You gasp out, seeing his white shirt splattered with blood. “Did you need me to get your shirt booked in to the dry cleaner?” You start typing up the website to get the booking made when you feel his hand take your wrist.

“Does it hurt?” Yoongi asks quietly, looking down at you through his eyelashes, letting his fingertips run along the marks Yang left.

“O-oh.. um.. a little, but nothing I cant handle!” You smile sweetly at him as he shakes his head.

“You shouldn’t have to handle it at all.” He frowns, using a damp cloth to gently wipe away the trails of your blood before taking some paper towel and drying your arm off. “I do apologize, you didn’t sign up to deal with that shit. I should have been out here waiting for Yang’s arrival.”

“Master Min,” you smiled softly, letting him tend to your arm - you knew it made him feel better when he helped Bangtan with their wounds. “Please don’t stress, I knew what I signed up for for this job.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he delicately starts placing bright pink Hello Kitty band-aids over your scratch marks.

“Dont laugh.” He grumbles, patting the band-aids down so they stick. “Jimin insisted that we got these to make Taehyung laugh whenever he was hurt.” He lied, Jimin had snuck to you that Yoongi kept his Hello Kitty band-aids with him just in case any of the girls in the office - another word for just you and you alone - were hurt - he just never got to use them until now. But you’d never tell him that you knew. Instead, you just smile and let Yoongi tend to your wounds.

It may not be the best job in the world, but at least you know your bosses have your back.

#bts angst #bts fluff #bts ot7 x reader #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi angst #yoongi mafia AU #BTS mafia AU #BTS AU #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x You #min yoongi

[pouringmyheartoutforpaper]

this is for the girlies (or anyone) that sometimes forget to eat or drink for a while until they feel really sick, and need a personal stevie to force feed them sandwiches.

robin and eds had just left steve’s house, leaving you both there alone. and once you told them goodbye you were hit with a wave of nausea, along with a crippling headache. you staggered into steves kitchen whilst he was cleaning up the board game in the living room and leaned over the sink. trying to breathe deeply in the hopes it would make you feel less like you were going to pass out. steve came in, and was going to pick you up and spin you in his arms when he saw your position.

“baby, whats wrong? you okay? what happened?” he asked, worry lacing his voice.

you turn around to answer him, but you don’t feel like you are able to form words. thankfully, steve can tell enough by how pale you look, like all the color has drained from your body.

“jesus christ baby, woah, sit-sit down” he said, picking you up and placing you onto the kitchen island.

your head felt heavier now, and you slumped over onto his shoulder. he attempted to ask you more questions, to which he only received a whimper from you. he needed to get you water but he couldn’t leave you unsupported, so he carried you into the living room and lowered you onto the couch.

“ill be right back, babydoll.” he said, mostly to himself before he performed the quickest water-run known to man. coming back and propping you up slightly and putting the straw you your lips, “drink.”

you did as you were told, and after sucking on the straw and lazily staring at him until the entire glass was empty, you took a deep breath.

“what the hell was that, baby? what happened?” he asked softly.

“i dunno, jus’ don’ feel good” you replied.

“yeah? what have you eaten today?” he asked.

you stared at him as you recalled your day. and slowly he watched your eyes turn from contemplation to guilt.

“baby,” he warned, “what have you eaten today.”

you sunk into the sofa behind you.

“i forgot, stevie.” you frowned at him, and he sighed.

“have you had any water?”

“you just gave me some!”

“i mean before that, doofus.”

you shook your head no, pouting moodily at him and lying back onto the couch. you felt tears well up in your eyes, everything seemed to be much bigger than it was. you were very embarrassed; and in your hungry, dehydrated brain, steve was very disappointed in you, and could not believe his girlfriend was so stupid as to forget to eat or drink. this was obviously very much not the case, and steve did not think that about you. as the flood came, you attempted to hide it, but he tool your hands and began soothing you instantly.

“hey, hey, look, its okay. you’re okay. shh.” he brushed the sweaty hair out of your face, “need you to lie down while I get you somethin’ to eat, okay? youre probably tired too, honey.”

you nodded tearily, and let him lie you back down. he went into the kitchen and made you a nice toasted sandwich just the way you like it, with a glass of water and a coke. he came back and sat next to you, giving you the food and setting the drinks onto the coffee table. you ate quickly, and were more than halfway through your sandwich when you looked up at him and realized how much better you felt. he raised his eyebrows at you, and you giggled.

“you feel better?” he asked. which only reduced you into a fit of more giggles. he shook his head and pulled you into his lap, whispering into your ear, “you drive me crazy, lady.” he laughed. “your hangry-ness needs to be psychologically evaluated.”

you stuck your tongue out at him and finished your meal before turning back around to him and wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your noses together.

“i’m sorry, thank you stevie.” you said, and kissed him softly.

“it’s okay lovey,” he took your hand into his, “no big deal, just gotta remember to eat, goofball.” he replied.

“why’d i do that when i have a perfectly good personal chef and doctor here?” you said, receiving an eye roll.

“alright sleeping beauty, lets get you a nap. and then all your needs will be full.” he said, taking your hand and guiding you into hie bedroom.

“well… not all of them.”

you received yet another eye roll, but this time it was accompanied by a deep scarlet blush.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve stranger things #stranger things #steve harrington fluff #steve x you #steve x reader #st smut #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x fem reader #steve harrington x fem!reader

[ericsprincess]

wanna take a look inside you

nc-17, stalker!Jaemin, Jaemin/female reader, cunnilingus, crack

~~~

Your stalker really cares about you.

~~~

Why the fuck is it snowing again? Just why? you groan, as soon as you open your eyes and see all the fluffy snowflakes falling behind your window. 

You reluctantly roll out of your warm bed and start getting ready for the day. You should be rushing through your morning routine, since you have to get to work, but you’re almost deliberately slow. You’re just trying to delay the inevitable, which is having to shovel half a meter of snow out of your driveway and your car, and scrape off the ice from your car windows. You’re seriously considering calling in sick, just to not have to deal with standing outside in snow and fighting your flimsy plastic shovel and tiny ice scraper. 

You’re pouring yourself a cup of coffee when you stop at the sudden glimpse out of your kitchen window. What the hell. 

Your driveway is already nicely and precisely shoveled, with all the snow neatly piled up on one side. Not only that, your car is completely cleaned, covered with only a small layer of freshly fallen snow, indicating that whoever took mercy on you did it only a while ago. 

You sit down behind the table and absentmindedly scratch behind your dog's ears while chewing on toast. 

Maybe one of the neighbors did it? Or maybe there is some kind of a community service? Which is weird. You just moved into this area and by the looks of it you would expect to get your car stolen rather than cleaned. 

Hmm, you think. Maybe the neighborhood here isn’t that bad. 

(Narrator voice: It is actually that bad.)

~~~

Ironically, a few days later you do end up calling in sick. The cold winter weather got to you and after an evening of feeling like shit you woke up with fever, sore throat, and no will to live. 

You blindly feel around your bed to search for your phone, eventually finding it under your dog (Oof, move, you fat fuck), and call Jaemin from HR, in your office also known as Hot Jaemin from HR, to inform him that you’re taking a sick day. 

He picks up immediately after the first ring and with his completely pleasant, friendly, and only slightly creepy deep voice, he takes your note and wishes you to get well soon. He even asks if there are some work related heads up to pass to your coworkers, just like the nice and considerate guy he always is. If only every coworker was like Jaemin (nice, competent and hot), work would be much more bearable, you sigh. Sometimes he even sits down with you for lunch in the breakroom and offers you some home baked pastry while he talks about his cats. Really, just an overall nice guy. 

You finally hang up and burrow yourself back under the covers, when you notice the time on your phone. 6:58. Huh? I must be delirious, you think hazily, already drifting back to sleep. He’s not even supposed to be at work yet.  

~~~

When you finally emerge from your supposed delirium (also known as common flu) two days later, both of which you spent almost entirely just sleeping, you take a gloriously good hot shower and head to the kitchen, wondering what you will be able to scavenge from the fridge. 

Thankfully, it seems well stocked. So you quickly make a sandwich with some fresh ham and vegetables, scarf it down like a madwoman, after barely eating for two days and put the plate into the sink.

The dishes are also done. 

The house is actually pretty spotless, you squint as you look around. Even more than usual - no socks anywhere, no cups with forgotten tea. Dog looks fed and happy. 

The laundry machine beeps to announce that it’s finished. 

Wow, it must have been really bad, because I don’t remember doing any of that. Good job, sick me, you mentally pat yourself on your shoulder. 

~~~

You open the door to get out of your house for a nice walk and you stop dead in your tracks.

What the actual everloving fuck. 

Right in front of your doorstep there is a line of six mice, nicely ordered and completely dead, and you barely manage to prevent your dog from taking a good sniff. 

You retreat back to your house, pulling the dog with you and you lock all the locks on the door. 

You don’t even own a cat? 

~~~

You would swear the oil change light in your car was blinking for the past two months. Like, it had been mocking you and your procrastination. You felt bad about it, but ignored it, because who would want to deal with it unless you really have to? 

Well, it’s not blinking today. 

Which must mean only one thing - the light is broken now too. Which might also mean some electronic failure.

You frown. Karma for being lazy found you and there goes your free Saturday. 

And then it finds you again 2 hours later for being an idiot, when it turns out the oil does not need to be changed and the whole electronic system in your car is working alright. You made the mechanic check twice because you could swear you’re not making it all up, just to end up looking like a dumbass in front of the whole shop. 

You go home in shame and then you dig out the car manual you once threw into a cupboard and never read. 

~~~

Ugh, this guy again. You fight the urge to run, but he has already noticed you and you don’t want to look weak. Or afraid. But you are, a little. 

Walking on the same street, your creepy neighbor is approaching you from the opposite direction and you’re already bracing yourself. 

He never lets you go just with “Hello,” he always tries to flirt creepily and invite you for coffee, last time he even tried to grab your hand. You shudder at the memory. You hate these kinds of slimebags and their audacity. But you’re afraid he might snap if you really tell him off. 

So, you’re not sure what to do, you’re always just distantly polite and doing your best to not give him any signal that he might interpret as his attention being welcome. 

But you did start bringing pepper spray with you and going everywhere with your dog. Not like this fat fuck could ever protect your from anything, but still. For mental support. (But seriously, why is it getting so fat? You make a mental note to take him on longer walks, despite the shitty neighborhood.)

He’s getting closer and you’re already feeling the anxiety, when he swiftly crosses the road to get to the opposite side of the street. He walks faster. It’s like he’s avoiding you. Not only that, but he’s limping and his nose is bandaged as if it were broken. 

What could have happened to him? you wonder. Maybe he bothered the wrong girl and her boyfriend went to teach him to leave women alone, you chuckle. Who knows. 

~~~

You suddenly startle out of your sleep to the sound of breaking glass. It's a deep night but you are barely gathering your wits from being so crudely woken up, but you can hear a strange commotion from downstairs. 

Burglars, is your first thought. You’re shaking hard but you slowly and silently tiptoe to your closet to get a broom, the only weapon you can think of right now. A broom in one hand and your phone in the other, with the police dialed up, just waiting to press a call, you pad down the stairs to your living room where the sound came from. 

The lights are already on. And in there there is-

“Jaemin??? What are you doing here?” you scream. 

Right in the middle of your living room is Hot Jaemin from HR, disheveled and slightly out of breath, and just about to finish hog-tying a masked man. He pulls the rope tightly and kicks the man into the ribs for good measure. He stands up and turns to you with a bright and wide smile. 

“Y/N! Go to sleep, I got it!” he says happily and throws you a thumbs up. He ignores the question.

“B-But-” you take a step forward but Jaemin stops you. 

“Be careful, Y/N, there is glass. I threw a vase at him, that fucker really thought he can mess with me like that,” he snorts. “Just go back to sleep, I’ll clean it up and deal with this bag of dicks.” he urges you gently. 

“H-How are you going to deal with him?” you’re confused. Jaemin’s smile gets even wider. 

“I’ll deal with him, I have tools in my car. Don’t worry about it.” he brushes you off. 

“You know what, I’ll just call the police,” you wave your phone, barely out of shock from what just happened. 

“Okay,” Jaemin sighs with dramatic exasperation. “But it will take forever while you could have just left it to me and gone to sleep.”

You squint at him suspiciously and press the dial. 

~~~

“So, that would be all, Mrs. Y/L/N. We will contact you about the further proceedings,” the police officer clicks his pen off and gathers his papers. Your kitchen is still flashing red and blue from police cars parked outside. 

“Thank you, officer, I really appreciate it,” you beep back at him. This police thing turned out to be a lot more serious and lengthy than you expected.

“Don’t thank me, miss, you should thank your..uhhh…” he looks up at Jaemin, who is standing behind you with his hands on your shoulders. 

“Husband,” Jaemin offers, with his signature bright smile and you fight the urge to step on his foot. 

“Yeah, that. Anyways, if you have any questions, call us. Good night!” he salutes you with two fingers and brusquely walks out of your house. The cars leave one by one and then you’re alone. With Jaemin. 

You turn back to him. 

“I am not sure what to think about all of this, but thank you, I guess. But I have a lot of questions and I want answers to all of them,” you stick a finger right in the middle of his chest. 

“Okay, of course. Whatever you want, Y/N,” Jaemin offers. It’s the first time you see him look anything else but bright and cheerful. He looks almost unsure. 

“I’m now going to sleep and if I find out you’re still in this house, I’ll call the police again. On you.” you threaten. “You have 2 minutes to leave,” you add and pointedly look at the clock on your kitchen wall. 

“Oh, okay, let me just…” he gathers his rope that the cops left behind and his jacket and hurriedly slips on his shoes. He’s in the door in thirty seconds, waving at you. 

“See you at work!” he squeezes your hand briefly and runs out of your house. 

Why do I always attract these weirdos, you sigh and drag yourself upstairs to your bedroom. You fling yourself on the bed and you suddenly really feel how tired and exhausted you are from all the adrenaline. It would be really for the best to just sleep, you decide and crawl under the covers. 

But the sleep is not coming, you’re just thinking about everything that happened. You keep tossing and turning, ending up staring out into your bedroom window. 

Suddenly, a phone display lights up in the crown of a nearby tree. You decide to pointedly ignore it and you flip to the other side, turning your back to the window. You grab your dog, who’s been snoozing peacefully throughout the whole night and snuggle into his white fluffy fur to sleep. 

~~~

The next day at work you don’t waste any time. After throwing your bag at your desk you change direction right into the HR office. 

You don’t knock, just let yourself in, meeting Jaemin who is currently sitting behind his desk, unpacking his things for a day. He looks up at you, smiling. 

You cross your arms and point at the nametag on his desk that says “Na Jaemin, Head of HR” with your chin. 

“Ironic, huh?” 

“What’s ironic?” he straightens up, smile unwavering. 

“I can’t even report you, you asshole.” you frown. “And I don’t really want to go to the police because you did save my life.”

“Well that’s bad.“ he nods solemnly.

“It really is. So… Care to explain what you were doing at my house?” 

“Guarding you?” he answers like it is the most obvious thing in the world.

“Wh-guarding?? From what?” you ask incredulously. Oh. “Okay don’t answer.” 

“Yeah,” he laughs. “You know that as a head of HR I have access to aaaaaaaaaalllll of your records, right?” he spins his pen between his fingers. “So I really couldn’t help but notice you moved into a really shitty location, Y/N. Really, there? I know how much you make, you don’t need to live there at all.”

“I’m saving money for my own house, okay?” you answer defensively. You couldn’t have possibly known it would be that bad. You thought that everyone was just exaggerating. “Why were you even keeping tabs on my address?” you ask him accusingly. 

Jaemin just keeps looking at you, smiling. It’s unnerving. Like a shark about to eat you, but with joy.

“...so you’re not gonna answer?” you frown. Of course. 

“I mean, isn’t that obvious?” he drawls, tilting his head as if he were mocking you. And you think it should be obvious, but at the same time, you never know what’s going on in Jaemin’s head. 

You sigh. “You know, next time JUST ASK ME OUT YOU MORON!” 

“Oh, yeah, I could have done that…” he startles with realization. “I guess I was too preoccupied.”

“With what? Figuring out my daily patterns? Putting a GPS tracker on my car?”

“How did you find that?” he asks surprisingly, pulling up his phone to check. 

You close your eyes and breathe deeply. Come on, you have dealt with worse. And he’s really hot *and* whipped, even though he has a particular way about it. And he saved your life. You could have a use for him. 

“Drive me home.”

“Sure,” he gets up immediately, picking up his jacket. 

“You’re not even gonna question me wanting to leave work just like that?” 

“Who do you think is processing your attendance records?” he winks at you and leads you out of his office to the parking lot with a hand on your waist 

~~~

“By the way, you didn’t answer.” you say while fighting with the seatbelt while Jaemin starts the car. “What were you doing at my house?”

“Uh. Is this now the time to tell you I’ve been sleeping in front of your bedroom door for the past few weeks?”

You can literally taste the headache coming. 

“I don’t think there is ever a good time for that.”

~~~

You open the door to your house and let both you and Jaemin in. Your dog comes running to welcome you and you’re not even surprised that it actually ignores you in favor of running into Jaemin,  who doesn’t wait to start playing with him, laughing and telling him what a good boy he is. 

More like a traitor. You frown at Jaemin pulling out a treat out of his jeans pocket and your dog chasing it hungrily as Jaemin teases him. Sold me for a piece of snack. 

“Let’s go upstairs before I change my mind.”

“Sure,” smiles Jaemin and stands up, suddenly taking a hold of you and picking you up over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes. 

“Hey! Put me down!” you yell at him, grabbing his ass and squeezing it. “I will fucking bite you!”

“Leave that for later…” he drawls in his creepy flirty voice as he walks up the stairs. He takes you to your bedroom and gently lowers you down on your bed. 

You really like the view from under him. He leans down to kiss your neck.

“Hey Jaemin..” you begin. 

“Hmmm?” he mumbles, continuing to kiss and lick your neck while his hands are working on taking your clothes off. 

“While you were sleeping outside my bedroom…Heards anything weird?” you ask. 

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “Pretty sure I heard my name at least once,” he bites into your collarbone. He takes off your shirt and pinches off the hooks of your bra in a second and you help take it off you. 

“And you still didn’t think of asking me out?” you ask disbelievingly. He pulls back a little and you get distracted by his shoulders. You start unbuttoning his shirt, just to reveal his beautiful full chest and muscular arms. Nice.

“You said Doyoung’s name once too.” he shrugs. He doesn't really meet your eyes.

“Oh yeah, Doyoungie from accounting…Haven’t seen him in a while, I wonder how he's doing…”

“He asked for a transfer. Doesn’t matter. Let’s not talk about him,” says Jaemin once again back to his bright smile and leans down to you, now fully committed to undressing you as soon as possible. He pulls off your pants together with your panties and lets his shirt slide off his body as well. 

“What are you gonna do?” you ask, while he shifts down your body. You instinctively spread your legs.

“Apologize,” he says while looking into your eyes and straight up dives into your pussy. 

You can tell he’s really sorry. He’s putting all the enthusiasm into eating you out, trying really hard to figure out what makes you tick and then applying it tenfold. You can feel him smile the moment you start making sounds.

You can feel yourself being close to coming and you try to tell him by pulling his hair, but in the end it doesn’t matter. He knows it already and he continues to flick his tongue over your clit even as you come, holding you by your thighs firmly so you don’t move too much to slip out of his hold. Once your orgasm starts to fade, he eases up a little, switching to slower, gentle licks with flat tongue, while you catch your breath, but in a minute, he’s back at it, relentlessly stimulating you as if you didn’t even have a choice about whether you want another round or not. 

You can only applaud his skill and stamina and let him make you come, with absolutely no guidance, for the second time, barely a couple minutes after the first one. 

While you’re coming down from your orgasm, feeling all liquid and brainless, Jaemin disentangles himself from your legs and crawls up the bed to drag you into his arms.

You turn to kiss him when you realize he hasn’t even taken off his jeans yet. You slide your hand to rub over his hard cock a little and he sighs and nuzzles into your neck. “Do you want…” you start.

“No. I haven’t deserved it yet,” he breathes out. “I’m already close though…” He looks like he’s fighting himself on that.

“Oh really?” you grin, and rise up to look better at his flushed face. “Well then get back to work?” you pull him by his (insanely attractive) sex hair. He whines, you don’t know if it's from pain or arousal, but it doesn’t matter.

“I’m going to sit on your face now, okay?” you whisper to him. 

“Uhhhh uhhh,” he closes his eyes. 

“Great. If you come, this one doesn’t count,” you laugh, and swing one leg over his leg to kneel over him.

~~~

You’re lying in your bed, sweaty and tired and almost falling asleep in Jaemin arms, when you suddenly remember. 

“Hey, actually...what about the mice?” 

He turns and smiles at you with a full Cheshire cat smile. Way too many teeth.

"Well..."

#jaemin smut #na jaemin smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #ficscafe #jaemin fic #na jaemin fic #jaemin #na jaemin #kpop smut #kpop fic #jaemin imagines #na jaemin imagines #jaemin x reader #na jaemin x reader #jaemin scenarios #na jaemin scenarios #nct dream scenarios #nct scenarios #nct dream #nct

[charliehoennam]

Aww I love your writing so much!!!! 🩷🩷 The detective Loki A-Z felt so accurate 🥹 he’s so precious. Can you write something that kind of goes off the jealousy area? Like it’s a coworker who reader gets close with and is honestly clueless to the flirting?

F o r g i v e n

a/n: here you go, nonny! i couldn't agree more. David is my baby and he deserves some happiness and a warm hug

pairing: Detective David Loki x reader

summary: a new co-worker makes a misguided move on the reader and david gets pissed

warnings: language, angst, arguing (if i missed one, lemme know. minors, do not interact!)

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

Sliding your legs over the edge of your side of the bed, you sit up and rub the sleep from your eyes. David’s on the phone with O’Malley. You already know he’s gotta go into work today.

“Yeah, I’ll be there in 30 tops” he says lowly in his gravely morning voice before hanging up his cell phone.

“I’ll make breakfast” you smile sleepily at him.

You reach out to reassuringly squeeze his arm to let him know it’s alright. He’s already mentally beating himself up for waking you up and not being able to be enjoy his morning off with you as he had promised.

You make your way through the one-story house and head to the kitchen to get his coffee going. You decide on making a hearty breakfast because you know very well David will skip lunch today.

So, you settle for a nice egg, bacon, and cheese sandwich on toasted bagels with cream cheese. You make two for him so he can take one to work and hopefully eat while he’s on the road. You even cut up some bananas, apples, strawberries and oranges to make a little fruit salad.

David isn’t the healthiest guy around, but he deeply appreciates that you care for him and his health. He never really had anyone to care about him – much less his health – so he’ll sure make to eat every bite.

You hear his electric razor shut off after his shower. A while later, he comes into the kitchen with his hair slicked back. His light blue button-up shirt is open, exposing his white sleeveless undershirt. His gold chain dangles and dances around his neck as he buttons the cuffs of his shirt.

You can’t help but smile to yourself. You wish you could stop him and slide his button-up off. You love it when he wears his undershirt and chain around the house.

“Honey, think you can get a ride to work today?” he asks kissing the back of your head as you slice up the fruit.

“Yeah, babe. It’s no problem. I already texted Jared and asked him to pick me up.”

His hands working the buttons closed on his front stop as his eyes narrow in on the back of your head.

“Jared? You already texted him?”

“Yeah. I figured you’d leave before me.”

“Oh…”

You know that there’s something he’s holding back from you. You turn your head to glance at him, hoping to get a read of him as you slide the chopped-up fruit in a container.

“Is there a problem with that?”

You already know the answer to that.

“No. Nothing. Just didn’t know you and Jared were so close already. I mean, didn’t he just start there like two weeks ago?”

His eyebrows rise and his lip press flat as he looks down at his hands, letting them finish their work on his shirt.

“Two months ago, but he was pretty much on his own, so I figured I’d be the first to befriend him. The first weeks are the worst when you start working at a new place.”

“Yeah, I get that. Just didn’t think you were already texting each other.”

“Dave, there’s nothing going on between us if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. Your face says it all.”

You’re slightly hurt that he would think there could be something brewinh between you and Jared. It may come from a place of worry, but isn't that trust is for?

“Look, I gotta get going. I’ll see you tonight.”

You nod as you hand him the containers of sandwiches and his travel mug. He leaves you with a kiss on your forehead and you watch him leave, letting the tension hang in the air. You try to put it on the mental backburner as you head up to get ready for your day.

Hearing a honk coming from outside, you look out the window and confirm Jared’s arrival. You grab your bag, keys and phone before heading out the door and walking to Jared’s car.

“Hey, Jare. Thanks for the late-notice lift. David got called in and my car’s still at the shop.”

“You know I don’t mind it at all. It’s been almost a couple days though. Have they given you any updates on it?”

“Something about the starting motor failing. Solenoid damage, I think? They have to replace some coils or some shit.”

“That shouldn’t take more than a few hours to replace though.”

“David says the same thing. He’s getting pretty impatient. Said he’s gonna stop by there today to check up. You know how some mechanics can be when they see a girl with car trouble.” You complete with a roll of your eyes.

“Yeah, some pricks take advantages. I know a thing or two about cars. I’d be happy to look into it for you if you want?”

“Really? Yeah, yeah. That’d be great. I’m gonna wait for David though. He said he’d stop by there today. I’ll give you a heads up though.”

After arriving to work, you head straight for your sector to settle in. You can’t help but notice how kind Jared seems to be towards you in this new light that David casted earlier in the morning.

Jared always offers to refill your water bottle whenever he gets up, always offers snacks, brings you back your favorite coffee or tea after his breaks, compliments your hair or nails or even your perfume. During the whole day, you can’t help but notice he doesn’t treat his other co-workers the same. You begin to wonder if you’ve led him on to believe you’re more than just co-workers or if it’s because he’s new and not very close to the others.

You decide to shake the thought from your head and go on about your work. However, with this new concept in the back of your mind, you start to politely deny Jared’s kind offers. He doesn’t seem hurt by it. A small wave of relief washes over you. Maybe you were just in over your head and overthinking what David had told you.

Around closing time, Jared stops by your station to check if you need a ride home. You check your phone, hoping David texted you with a reply about picking you up, but there’s no new messages.

Your heart sinks a bit. You’d hoped he could’ve at least replied. Is he really that upset with you?

“Yeah, I could use a ride.”

The house isn’t very far. You could walk home, but the rain is already pouring down heavy. And this time of year, the cold winter air is starting to arrive, slickening the streets and sidewalks with ice.

You smile to hide that you wished you didn’t need a ride from Jared. You know it’s not gonna make things easier to deal with at home.

Part of you thinks David is acting ridiculously like a child that's too selfish to share a toy. Only you’re not a toy. You’re a human being and you’re his fiancée. You’re supposed to be getting married.

The other part of you wonders how you would feel if it were the other way around. If he had a new partner on the job and spent hours with her. With everything Jared does for you, would you be ok with someone else treating David the same way?

Trying to settle the internal dispute, you remember that it’s your intentions that really counts. You’re not breaking his trust because you have no intention of getting with Jared. You’re friends and that’s all there is. And you would want David to have a good friend too in your situation.

You walk out together, gabbling on about the day as you climb into his car.

As Jared turns onto your street, you’re laughing over an amusing situation you’d survived in your first week at the company with an unsatisfied client. Jared had had his first unpleasant interaction with a frustrated client. Although he handled it pretty well, he was still a bit disappointed about it.

Grateful the rain has let up, you notice Dave’s car parked in the driveway. Why didn’t he at least text you back if he was home? You feel a slight pang in your chest, but you shove it down as you continue your conversation. Jared knows your line of though has been thrown off and he can only guess it has to do with the black Crown Victoria perched in front of the garage.

“It can happen to anyone,” you say looking up at the tall brown-haired co-worker as he turns the car off, parking in front of your house. You hear a door close from outside and keys jingling, but you don’t think much of it. Most of your neighbors get home at this time as well.

“You can’t please everybody and you have to accept that,” you resume looking down at the dashboard. “You’re not here to please, you’re here to do your job.”

“You’re an amazing person, you know that?”

Something is different about the way Jared is looking at you. It’s intense and you don’t like it.

He leans over the arm rest/storage compartment separating the front seats and places a surprising kiss on your cheek.

You quick react by pulling yourself back and gently push him away with a hand on his shoulder.

“Whoa, Jared. That’s sweet, but i-it’s not like that. We’re just friends. You realize that, right?” you ask frowning at him. “I’m happily engaged.”

“Y-yeah... I figured. I thought I-I’d shoot my shot. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” He looks down embarrassed as his cheeks blush a bright regretful shade of red. “I misread things. I’m sorry. That’s on me. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine. Just… Don’t do that again, alright?”

“Yeah. Definitely will not” he chuckles nervously. “It won’t happen again. I promise. Just like you said, we’re only friends.”

You’re not really sure how to react. You can tell he feels really awkward about the whole thing, but you just want to get out of there as quickly as possible.

Flashing a shy, nervous smile at him, you thank him for the ride and climb out of the car. You slowly walk up the concrete path, digging through you bag for your keys.

Upon finding them, you look up and freeze.

David is standing in the path, glaring at the young man in the car. As he keeps his furious gaze locked on Jared, his hands move to rest on his hip. Pushing back his black winter jacket, his gold badge and his standard issue gun are exposed to remind Jared of who he is.

You don’t realize it’s a non-verbal threat. You just think he’s pissed judging by the constant hard blinking of his eyes.

“David, it’s not what you th-“ you start only to be cut off.

“In the house. Right now.”

He has a point. This isn’t a topic to discuss outside for all your neighbors to hear.

You walk quietly past him and march up the porch. You leave the door open for him, but he’s not far behind you. Only a couple moments since he’d been staring Jared down until he finally drove away.

The door slams as he enters the house.

“Are you fucking serious? There’s nothing going on, right?” He asks loudly and angrily.

“Yes, there’s nothing going on, Dave.” You say trying to stay calm, unwilling to match his tone. You’d be angry too in his place.

“You expect me to believe that after what I just saw?!”

“Yes, because that’s the truth. I know how that looked like. He thought I was sending him signs of interest. I won’t lie about that. But I didn’t want him to do that. There is absolutely no interest on my behalf!”

“The fucking chicken hawk just kissed you!”

“I didn’t want him to! I told him that! Maybe if you had picked me up from work or at least fucking texted me back, I wouldn’t have gotten in that fucking car in the first place!” you seethe at him.

“Oh, so this is my fault??” he snaps back at you bewildered.

He opens his mouth to speak, but just in that same moment, his cell phone rings. A hushed ‘fuck’ escapes from his lips as he answers the call. You just roll your eyes and fold your arm across your chest because you already know what that means.

The conversation is quick. You can’t tell much; all you know is that Captain O’Malley is calling him into the station.

“We’re not done on this”, he says with a raised finger in your direction and opens the door behind him.

The door slams shut. You close your eyes and lean against the wall, wishing you had never gotten in that car.

Dragging your tired body up the stairs, you make your way to your room. You notice the comforter is rumpled on David’s side along with his pillows. It’s not as you had it in the morning; it was neat and made to look inviting. You sigh and run a hand through your hair. Now you know why he didn’t answer you at first; he had fallen asleep.

You set your bag atop of the dresser that you share. You dig out your phone to set it to charge. There’re a couple unread messages and 2 missed calls; all from David and right around the time you’d left work.

Sorry, babe. Fell asleep and just woke up.

On my way right now!

You feel guilty thinking about how you could’ve avoided the whole ordeal. Now, David is mad at you and you’re mad at him for thinking that you wanted Jared to kiss you.

You head into the ensuite bathroom to shower and let the water wash away the stress of your day. As the warm water pours over you, you just hope this isn’t what ends your relationship.

Once you’re cleaned and a bit more relaxed, you go about the house to start on some of the chores. Deciding on a simple, quick and easy dinner, you sit on the couch to eat by yourself.

It’s been hours since David’s left and you miss him. You just want him to come home, so you can tell him how much you miss and love him.

You look down at your phone. He read your “I’m sorry” text, but he hasn’t replied. You wonder if it’s because he’s busy or he just doesn’t want to talk to you.

Wanting to stay up and wait for him, you start on the dirty dishes and pots in the kitchen. Then the laundry. You can’t stay still. It bothers you too much and you have to stay awake. There’s nothing left to do around the house, so you plot back down on the couch and surf through the channels to try to find something to watch.

It’s around midnight when you hear his car pull into the driveway. You race to the window to look out and make sure it’s him. He looks tired as he approaches the house with his keys in hand. His shoulders are hunched from the weight of the day’s stress.

You stand by the window and watch as he drags himself inside. He closes the door and hangs up his jacket before kicking his boots off. His back is turned to you and he hasn’t seen you yet.

When he does, he gazes at you for a moment. He’s too tired to argue, but he loves the fact that you’re wearing his sweater.

“You hungry? I made dinner. I can make you a plate,” you say softly breaking the silence.

“Yeah, I could eat.”

It’s quiet between you both. It’s a moment of cease fire. The elephant is still in the room, but you know how his weighs heavily on him. Especially with the case he’s working on. You don’t know much about it. David likes to keep that away from you. All you know is what you heard on the news and that there are kids involved. Those types of cases hit too close to home for him.

You leave him to eat in peace and tell him that you’re heading up to bed.

Assuming he’ll sleep on the couch since he must be upset still, you head to the bathroom to have a final tinkle before bed and brush your teeth. You crawl into bed and hug your pillow as you stare at the wall, luminated only by the fluorescent orange light of the street lamps.

Tears prick your eyes. You hate this distance between you and him. It’s ridiculous, but you know it’s not the time for it.

You hear David’s footsteps coming up the stairs and down the hall. The door creaks as he walks into the bedroom.

He goes about his usual routine; set his ring and chain on top of the dresser along with his badge. Then he walks over to the nightstand to open the drawer there. He pulls his gun from it's holster and makes sure its' safety is on. He had set it before already, but it never hurt to double check.

Soon after setting the gun in the lockbox within the drawer, he quietly makes his way to the bathroom. He opens the squeaky faucet and water pours from the shower.

He doesn’t take long. It’s a quick shower to wash his hair and body. He’s too tired to do more than he has to.

You hear him come into the room to grab a pair of boxers from his drawers. He seems quiet and still. Though your back is turned to him, you feel his eyes on you.

He stands still, hands on the wooden dresser as he mentally contemplates what to do. He knows it wasn’t your fault. He knows it wasn’t you who kissed Jared. He saw you pull away and push him back. He knows you didn’t like it or expect it just as much as him.

His head drops and his eyes close. In truth, the time at work had kept him too busy to think about it much, but he did think about you. Part of him felt you were like a victim, caught up in the crime with no fault. The other part of him wondered what could have happened to influence Jared to kiss you.

With a heavy sigh, you sense his footsteps approaching the bed. You expect to feel the wool blanket at the foot of the bed slide off along with his pillow.

To your surprise, you feel the comforter lifts behind you allowing a cool breeze to creep onto your back. Your heart beats faster. The mattress dips with his heavy frame. And you feel an arm drape over your waist.

“You awake?” His voice is a whisper in the dark.

You reply with a nod. You don’t want him to see you’re crying, though you know it’s inevitable.

“Can we talk?”

You quickly wipe your eyes in an attempt to omit the evidence of your pain. Turning onto your other side, you’re face to face. His hand doesn’t leave your waist. You let him slide underneath your shirt to feel your warmth.

“I don’t wanna fight. I don’t wanna argue,” he starts.

“Neither do I, Dave.” Your voice is soft as you reach to tenderly hold his bicep. You want to pull him close and hold him forever, but that might be too much.

“Are you really happy being with me?”

Your heart breaks to think that he feels like you might not be happy with him. You open your mouth to answer him, desperate to chase away his fear, but he continues.

“I know I’m not the best partner. I know for sure I haven’t been in the past. In some relationships, I didn’t even try to be. But I’m trying, sweetheart. I’m trying real hard because I love you and I want to be with you. I don’t know if it’s enou-“

You can’t listen to him anymore.

“Listen to me, Dave. I love you. You are more than enough for me and you make me the happiest in the world. And that’s enough for me. I’m not going anywhere.”

“You sure about that?” he asks with pleading eyes.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Jared is just a dude I felt bad for at work. I was just trying to be a friend, that’s all. But he misread my intentions. That’s it, that’s all that happened. And I’m gonna distance myself from him because I don’t want him to get the wrong idea.”

David feels relieved to hear your solution. He didn’t want risk sounding like a possessive jerk and ask you to not talk to Jared anymore, but he likes that you’re willing to make that change willingly for the sake of your relationship.

After all, he can’t be surprised someone else would want to have you.  The minute he met you, he wanted you for himself as well. He’s just lucky he got to have his chance before anyone did.

He smiles tiredly at you and closes his eyes as he rests his forehead against yours.

“Think you can forgive me for being a dick earlier? I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that.”

“I don’t know. You might just have to make it up to me” you tease with a playful smirk, getting a low chuckle out of him.

“Whatever you want. Just name it.”

#david loki #david loki imagine #david loki prisoners #detective david loki #david loki x reader #david loki x y/n #david loki x you #prisoners #jake gyllenhaal

[steddieas-shegoes]

“You have to keep stirring until it’s thin, like soup.”

Steve had said this four times.

Eddie wanted a divorce.

They weren’t legally married, but he’d like to find a way to end it before it began.

“I’ve been stirring it for six minutes. It’s not getting thinner.”

“That’s impossible. Let me try.”

Steve was the chef. Eddie knew it, Steve knew it, everyone knew it. He was good at cooking. Not just following recipes, but actually throwing together ingredients from scratch and making something not only edible, but delicious.

But Steve was going away for a week with Robin. Something about a long overdue road trip that they were supposed to take before she went to college.

Eddie had every intention of just living off of takeout and the sympathy of Joyce and Claudia while he was gone, but Steve insisted that he had to know how to at least make a few things.

Steve seemed to think he could make a glaze for the baked chicken currently in the oven. The same baked chicken he’d almost burned because he thought he could put it in on broil instead of baked. He was really THAT hopeless.

But Steve was determined and when Steve was like this, he had no choice but to go along with it.

Steve was stirring, frown becoming more prominent the longer he tried.

“Something isn’t right. Did you put the lemon juice in?”

“You watched me put it in.”

“And the jelly was completely cooked down before you turned down the heat?”

“Yes.”

“You’re sure?”

“Steve.” Eddie placed his hands on Steve’s shoulders from behind him, shaking him slightly. “I can just eat pizza. Or sandwiches. Cereal. Joyce is having me over for spaghetti one night, I’m sure there will be leftovers. I won’t starve.”

“But you need to know how to take care of yourself!”

Warning sirens were going off in Eddie’s head. He’d been alone for a couple of days before and everything was fine. He’d made some macaroni, ate his weight in toast, it was great. He survived.

He even ate an apple!

So he could do it if he had to.

“What’s going on in that head, big boy?”

“Nothing. It’s just that Wayne didn’t have time to show you this stuff and you need to know.”

“I can make it a week, Stevie.”

“What if you have to make it longer?”

“Are you planning on running away? Going into hiding?”

He could tell Steve was rolling his eyes without even seeing his face.

“No. But what if I’m not always around?”

Eddie’s gut clenched. Steve must be sick. Or maybe he has a feeling that somehow the Upside Down is open and ready to ruin their lives again.

“Why wouldn’t you be?”

“I mean anything can happen. What if we get in an accident and I don’t make it?”

“Woah.” Eddie turned Steve around and held onto his hips, fingers probably leaving bruises on his skin. “Where is this coming from?”

Steve shrugged and looked down at the floor.

“Robin has anxiety about it doesn’t she?”

Steve nodded.

Ah.

Robin didn’t intentionally shove her anxieties onto Steve, and she didn’t realize he felt them so strongly when she did. She was a worrier, always thinking about the worst case scenario and then somehow making it worse in her mind.

Eddie didn’t really let it bother him until it affected Steve.

“Sweetheart, nothings gonna happen. You’ve changed the oil and checked the tires. You’ve packed every possible thing you could need in any emergency. You have a cup of change for pay phones if you need to use them. You’ve got every stop picked out and we’ll know where you are the whole time.”

“But none of that helps if I’m in an accident.”

“No. You’re right. It doesn’t. But what are the odds of that happening really?”

Steve was silent.

Eddie cupped his face between his palms, leaning forward to kiss him gently.

“It’s okay to be nervous, Stevie. But you don’t have to worry about that. I can take care of myself without having to know how to make a glaze for a baked chicken. Do you really think I’m gonna waste an hour of my evening making this decadent dinner for myself? Or do you think I’ll make a sandwich and eat a bag of chips while I read a book?”

“I know.”

“I know you know. So let’s just trash the glaze, dip the chicken in some ketchup, and fuck around until we fall asleep. I’m gonna miss you for a whole week.”

Eddie’s hands slid around him to cup Steve’s ass and give it a squeeze. Steve smirked up at him as he let himself fall into Eddie.

“We could just go right to dessert?”

“Are you the dessert or am I?”

“I’m the cake and you’re the ice cream.”

“We better hurry then before the ice cream melts.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Steve laughed as Eddie pulled him from the kitchen to the stairs.

“I’m hungry, let’s go!”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #tumblr drabbles #domestic fluff #I just think the rumors about Eddie not being able to cook are true #he can survive if he has to but it won’t be anything good #Steve having anxiety about ridiculous things thanks Robin

[sadhours]

I stg I need a fic with billy and his lil housewife and (possible) breeding kink.

Just imagine he's coming home from work everyday and you've got his dinner made and everything. And not the abusive kinda housewife shit. But you love being his lil wifey. Love cooking him meals and preparing his clothes and lunch every morning before he leaves for work.

And the first thing he does when he comes home is giving you a big ole kiss on the cheek and thanking you for all your effort around the house

"Dinner looks so fucking good, love when you cook for me like this. You're absolutely amazing."

And oh godddd when he tells you he wants a kid (took lots of thinking for him) and he's expecting you to say no because you're both so young still. (20-22) but you say yes and now you're starting your own lil family.

big fan of the housewife thing. 🥵

18+ minors dni!!! Smut!

Falling into the role of Billy’s doting housewife was easy. Hell, you were doing it before he even put this beautiful ring on your finger. It shimmers in the sunlight as you smear mayonnaise on bread while you prepared his lunch for the day and you feel so warm and fuzzy at the memory of your wedding day. How absolutely gorgeous Billy looked in his tuxedo and the way his eyes lit up, all glassy when you walked down the aisle. You heave a happy sigh, layering meat and cheese on the bread. You’d requested the ham be sliced as thin as possible, almost shredded, just the way Billy liked it. You close the sandwich up and slide it into the ziploc baggie, zipping it up before delicately placing it in his lunch pail, along with a bag of Lay’s and a can of coke. You grab the pad of heart shaped sticky notes and press a sharpie to it.

I hope your day is as lovely as you are, you scrawl onto it in practiced cursive.

You carefully lay the note on top of the lunch and close the lid, latching it closed before hurrying to the bedroom and opening the closet door, meticulously retrieving Billy’s uniform from the rack and laying it out on the bed for him. Your long, satin nightdress sways with your movements. You hear the bathroom door open as you’re placing a pair of socks and briefs on the bed and you’re overtaken with the warmness of Billy’s body pressing into yours from behind. He places delicate kisses to the back of your neck, chills running up to meet his lips.

“Mmm,” he purrs, “Thank you, darling.”

You melt in his arms, leaning up to smooch his lips. “You’re so very welcome,” you grin.

He gives a loving tap to your rear before dropping the towel from his waist and snatching the briefs you’d picked out for him. You kiss his cheek, turning to return to kitchen and pouring him his cup of coffee and dish up his breakfast. It’s the same breakfast every weekday, hash browns, extra crispy bacon and sunny side up eggs. On the weekends, Billy spoils you by making French toast and mimosas, bringing it to you in bed.

You set it at the table as he’s walking into the kitchen, gifting you with a wink before he sits down, “Thanks for cooking breakfast, darling. Looks amazing.”

You flush at his never ending gratitude and praise, dish your own plate and sit across from him at the table, waiting patiently for him to salt and pepper his eggs before grabbing the shakers yourself.

“So what’s my gorgeous wife’s day look like?” he inquires, lovingly.

You bite your lip, his compliments never fail to make you feel hot and bothered, “I think I’ll do a bit of light reading. I’ve got to go to the grocery store and then I’ll clean before starting on dinner.”

Billy shovels hash browns in his mouth and smiles as he chews, a tender glint in his eyes as he looks at you. He swallows, “Make sure you have some fun. Not too much without me, though.”

He shoots you a wink and it goes straight to your heart and nether regions… You can’t help but giggle, “I think I’ll go to Sears before I go to the grocery store. I need a dress for that work thing you have.”

Billy lifts his asscheek, retrieving his wallet from his back pocket and hands over his credit card, “Here, doll.”

You take the card between your fingers, “Thank you.”

You two finish up breakfast and you take his plate, bringing the pair to the sink. You grab his lunch pail and follow him to the door, kissing him deeply while handing his lunch to him.

“Have a good day, love,” you sigh dreamily, cheeks flushed from the goodbye kiss.

“You too,” he smiles and heads to his Camaro.

You linger in the doorway, waving to him as he reverses out of the driveway.

-

You peer at the row of mannequins sporting the new spring collection, tulle and floral catching your eye as you reach to feel the material. They’re cute dresses but you’ve got a goal in mind. You trail to the formal collection. The event is a charity event that Billy’s workplace is sponsoring. It calls for something that doesn’t currently exist in your closet.

An emerald gown calls your name, the velvet number with a draping neckline and a subtle slit up the side. You file through the rack until you find your size, trying it on and imagining Billy standing beside you in a dark suit. You melt at the thought, missing him intensely. You’re sold and after you exit the dressing room, you make your way to the display of ties in the men’s section. You find an exact color match to your dress, giddy at the luck. You drape it against the gown and search for a twin handkerchief.

You make it home after your purchases, hanging the dress up and displaying the tie and handkerchief on the dresser for Billy to find. You get started on your routine of cleaning the house; picking up clutter, scrubbing the kitchen and bathrooms before making quick work of the vacuuming, dusting and mopping the place. You step back proudly as you gaze at the house. Glancing at the clock on the stove, you realize your time is waning before Billy will be back home. You hurry to get started on dinner, prepping the vegetables and marinating the meat.

As it nears six o’clock, you light the candles on the table and move to find the right record for dinner, flipping through the vinyls until you land on a collection of Paul Anka. You lift the needle on the machine before delicately placing the record on the platform. You start it and your hips begin swaying with the music, dancing your way back into the kitchen to set the table. You retrieve the bottle of white wine you’d been chilling in the fridge since returning home. You’re pouring both glasses when the front door swings open and with it, you’re breathtaking husband walks in. He strolls over, placing a hand on your hip and kissing your cheek.

“House looks incredible, dinner smells wonderful and you look ravishing,” he purrs.

You do it all for him, for this. You wouldn’t have it any other way. He treats you so well, gives you absolutely everything he can and it’s so easy to repay him with making his home a home.

“Thank you,” you squeak, cheerily as you take the lunchbox from his hand and placing it on the counter.

-

After dinner, Billy enjoys a cigarette at the table and you retrieve an ashtray for him. As you’re placing it down, he grabs onto your waist and pulls you into his lap. He showers you with kisses, earning a fit of giggles from you.

“God, I’m the luckiest guy in the world,” he beams.

“I’m the lucky one,” you tap the tip of his button nose with your finger before forcing yourself up to get started on the dishes.

As you’re finishing up, Billy snakes his arms around your middle and kisses from your shoulder to your ear.

“Dance with me,” he requests and you accept gratefully, pulling your baby pink rubber gloves off before turning and wrapping your arms around his neck. His hands rest on the small of your back as he sways with you in the kitchen, eyes gazing into your own. His ocean blue eyes are the prettiest you’ve ever seen, turning you to putty in his hands. He spins you around, dipping you and lifting you back up to kiss. Then he’s pressing you against the counter, still moving his hips in time with the music.

Don’t Ever Leave Me rings through the house, setting the mood perfectly for Billy to confess what he’s had on his mind since he married you.

“I want you to have my baby,” his voice is stern yet full of yearning.

It catches you off guard, eyes widening and he quickly babbles off, “I know. We’re young. But fuck, darling, I want to get you pregnant so goddamn bad.”

Heat rises up between your thighs while your chest tightens, you’re so pleasantly surprised. You’d been thinking about taking prenatal vitamins when your mom had told you it makes you more fertile. You’d wanted to start a family the second you got hitched.

“Yes,” you agree, “I wanna have your baby, Billy.”

He’s giddy at the prospect, lifting you up and placing you on the counter as he kisses you through his face splitting smile. Your legs wrap around him, hands pulling him even closer as you part your lips when his tongue prods for entrance. Your eyes fluttering shut as you feel his tongue swirl around yours. God, he’s all yours. You can’t believe you’ve been blessed with Billy. You thank every omniscient entity you can think of while he continues his invasion of your mouth. He pulls back and admires you, longing in his eyes. You’re floored under his gaze, extreme devotion to this man oozing from every pore.

“Get me pregnant, Billy,” you plead.

He picks you up from the counter, carrying you the bedroom and kicking the door open with his foot. He lays you down and begins kissing your legs, staring at your ankles and reaching your thighs. He shoves your dress up and hooks his fingers into your panties, pulling them down your legs and exposes your glistening core. He takes it in with hungry eyes, gentle fingers brushing through your folds. You toss your head back, moaning breathlessly as your fingers frantically grip onto the duvet beneath you. Billy rests his cheek on your thigh, observing his motions while he swipes languidly up and down. His fingers briefly connect with your clit and you writhe against it, but he moves his digits down to your eager hole. He heaves a sigh as he feels the slick leaking out. Billy places a sloppy kiss to your thigh before placing another over your sensitive bud, he flicks his tongue against it and you’re falling apart beneath him as you pant out his name and spreading your legs further apart.

“I’m gonna fill this gorgeous cunt up with my cum,” he growls, eyes peering up at you from between your legs which earns a desperate cry from you.

He licks a broad, firm stripe through your folds and then sucks your clit in between his lips. It feels so good you feel like you’re sinking into the mattress deeper and deeper. His digits slide inside of your pussy, curling when fills you to his knuckles.

You cry out, “Fuck!”

Billy pulls his mouth away but keeps working his fingers inside of you, spreading them to stretch you out. “I’m gonna get you so fucking pregnant,” he bellows, voice deep and husky.

“Please,” you beg, eyes squeezed shut as his fingers drag against your walls. “Wanna have your baby so bad… want you… need you to—“ the words catch in your throat and a loud moan replaces them as he licks against your clit again.

Billy pulls his fingers out, making you feel empty as you clench around nothing. You watch lustfully as he shoves his fingers in his mouth to taste you. You sit up and try to pull your dress up and over your shoulders but you struggle. Your husband chuckles softly and you feel his fingers grabbing onto the material to help you peel it off. He litters kisses along your collarbone as he maneuvers beneath your back to take your bra off, his tongue sticking out of the side of his lips in concentration. You giggle, heart swelling at the adorable sight of him.

“What’s so funny?” he chides playfully.

“Look so cute,” you chirp, your cheeks hot.

He pulls the straps from your shoulders and tosses the bra across the room, lowering his lips to your exposed breasts as he mumbles against the supple skin, “M’being sexy.”

“Mmm, yes, very,” you purr as your fingers tangle in his blonde coils.

Billy licks against your nipple as he cups your breasts, bouncing them slightly, “These are just gonna get bigger too.”

Your back arches as his hand dips between your legs, rubbing against your hole teasingly, it feels so good but you want him to fill it. Billy licks his lips, looking up at you, “I can’t fucking wait to fill this pussy up.”

He was ecstatic. Billy was remarkably well at pulling out. The entire time you’d been together, you’d never had a scare or mishap and you’d never used protection. His mind was reeling at the thought of actually cumming inside of you.

“Need it, baby,” you whine out, writhing beneath his touch.

He straightens himself up and starts undoing the buttons of his work shirt. Your eyes take in the flesh revealed underneath, his toned chest and stomach. He’s the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen and he was all yours. You sit up to push the collared shirt over his shoulders, he presses his palm to your chest and lightly pushes you back. He just wants you to watch right now. He unbuckles his belt and swiftly pulls it from the loops as you lay on your back, eyes following his fingers when they start to unbutton his pants. You ache to touch him, squirming in anticipation while he unzips and pushes the pants to the bottom of his thighs. He’s straining against his tight briefs, the ones you’d picked out for him. Billy palms himself over the cotton material and you groan softly, loving that you’re the reason why he’s so aroused.

“Lemme see,” you plead, voice so light it’s barely audible.

He smirks down at you, “You want it so bad.”

“Uh-huh,” you nod eagerly, licking your lips as your eyes bounce from his back down to his crotch. “Pretty please.”

“Eager girl,” Billy chides as he pushes his briefs down and you heave a pleased whine as you watch his cock spring out.

Billy’s hand wraps around his base and you watch as he strokes himself. You spread your legs further, an attempt to entice him to give you what you so desperately need. Billy’s eyes drop down when you do so, impervious grin spreading his lips up and he scoots his knees up a bit, inching closer to your drooling core. He slaps his tip against your pussy, sending chills up the back of your thighs.

He speaks low as he drags it through your folds, “I’m gonna pump this pussy full of my cum.”

The filthy words dripping with desire pulls a whine from you as your back arches and your hands grab at the sheets. Billy leans down, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. You rip your hands from the sheets and cling them onto his sides, parting your lips when you feel his tongue drag against them. Moaning into his mouth when you feel his cock finally slip inside you, angling your hips up to meet him. Billy grunts, stilling his movements as he looks into your eyes. You squirm, scratching against his ribs as you silently beg him to move again.

“Billy,” you plead, rolling your hips up.

He pushes your hair off your sweaty forehead and smiles, giving a hard thrust of his hips. You gasp, toes curling against the sheets beneath you. Billy closes his eyes tight, laughing softly, “I’m already gonna fucking cum.”

You giggle, “Yeah? Feels that good?”

He buries his face in your neck and mumbles, “Just thinking about filling you up is getting me there.”

You grab into his hair and wildly rocking your hips up. Billy groans, “Fuck…”

He pins your hips with his hands and drills into you, his face contorted and breathless moans tumbling from his throat.

“Billy,” you cry out, “Cum in my pussy!”

He groans out, shooting his thick, hot load into you. Billy pulls out, sitting back on his feet and licking his lips as he sees his seed leaking out of you. He scoops it up with his finger and shoves it back into you. He presses his cock back to your entrance and fucks his cum back into you, pressing his thumb against your clit and rubbing it in quick circles. You cry out, the pressure building up in your stomach finally snapping as you fall apart around his dick.

Billy collapses next to you, kissing you all over but lifts an eyebrow as you lift your legs in the air and use your hands to hold your ass up too.

“What are you doing?” he asks, curiously.

“I read that if you wanna get pregnant, you should do this after,” you say matter-of-factory. Billy laughs, rubbing your stomach while he gazes at you lovingly.

-

Billy gets home from work not particularly in the best mood. Nothing really awful happened but it was a long day. All he wants to do is see your gorgeous face and relax.

He walks inside and you’re in the kitchen, dishing up plates as per routine. He saunters over to you, placing his lunchbox on the counter and grabbing a hold of your hips, turning you and pressing your back against the counter, kissing you eagerly.

You pull away and smile at him, “Long day?”

He nods, thumb caressing your chin, “Couldn’t wait to get home to my beautiful wife.”

“Pregnant wife,” you confess.

“What?” Billy’s eyes widen, smiling.

You nod, “I’m pregnant.”

Your husband picks you up and spins you around, kissing you deeply.

#billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove x female reader

[seat-safety-switch]

This breakfast place near me offers a meal called the “Cowboy Breakfast.” Despite the name, you can still order it if you are a cowgirl, catgirl, or any other combination of gender and human-animal hybrid. And so, last weekend, I headed on down to the place, after discovering that my refrigerator was devoid of fried pork products, eggs, sausages, and inch-thick Texas toast. Friends, we should change that “offers” in the very first sentence to “offered,” because this restaurant was gonezo.

When a restaurant you loved closes, it can feel sometimes like losing a friend. In my case, it was a distant friend that I made in high school, and hung out mostly with when I was hungover, but forgot about entirely in the decades after. Until it was too late. I was distraught, and by far the worst part of the experience was feeling responsible.

If only I had bought several hundred thousand dollars’ worth of Cowboy Breakfasts every single morning, I told myself on the way back home, then the owner surely would have been able to buy his way out of his conviction for real-estate fraud and Murder Two. This guilt galvanized me into stopping by another restaurant, just down the road, and ordering breakfast there instead. It was at that point that I realized I had just been hungry.

As long as the local truck stop isn’t invaded by hipsters, I think I can deal with it. That place has long been my favourite chow-zone after a long morning pulling engines at the junkyard, and I think you’re really going to like it, all several thousand of you sitting in the rotting backseat of my car, trying not to fall into the exposed driveshaft and barely-restrained third member of the back axle. I’ll put a new floor in there one day, I swear, just as soon as I find a fallen traffic sign that’s big enough.

Yep, here we are. Oh shit. Is that a Range Rover in the parking lot? This place is forever lost to us. Okay, everyone, plan B. We’re going to learn how to make our own grilled cheese sandwiches instead. You just can’t trust the restaurant industry.

[snwycde]

Connected (Bang Chan) part 5

Pairing: BangChan x fem reader

wc: 1.6k

warnings‼️: MDNI, mentions of s*xual thoughts in the beginning (continuation of part 4)

summary: slow burn of Chan and fem reader. Chan runs into his past, how will it affect the present and his future?

This is part 5!!!

-----

Chan hops into the shower, he’s usually not one for morning showers but - well due to the circumstances he’s been given, he doesn’t really have a choice.

I haven’t seen her in like three weeks. What the hell? Chan rinses his body, trying not to think of how vivid his dream felt. “Fuck,” he says out loud getting mad because he’s starting to get hard again. He reaches and turns on the cold water.

---

“Chan hyung, where are you going?” Jeongin as he sits on the couch watching, “The studio is closed this week for remodeling.”

“Fuck, right.” Chan stands for a minute thinking, “Thanks for the reminder Innie.”

Chan waves at Jeongin before leaving the dorm. He walks to the car and heads off from there. If you’re wondering where he’s going well…

---

Connections. The sign shines, being hit by the sunlight as he parks outside of the cafe. 

He’s just here to eat some breakfast while working on some beats for his song, his song that he desperately needs to start on. But yeah, that’s the only reason. Not to wait and see if you’ll arrive at your family owned cafe. To sit down in your favorite spot, and work on whatever you need to work on.

Chan orders the same thing, but includes a toasted sandwich this time since he’s starving. As he waits for his drink and food to arrive, he pulls out his laptop and sets up his area. When he turns on his laptop he remembers, Right. Wifi.

As if someone read his mind, “The wifi passcode is magnets, all lowercase,” they set down a drink, their drink. Chan looks up to see you taking a seat right across from him.

“Look, I know this is a public business, but out of all cafes in Seoul, you decide on this one. Why?” You look cold, not the emotional self you were three weeks ago, it puts Chan on edge, unsure of how to respond.

“Hi Miss L/N, how are you doing?” A server comes up to place Chan’s drink and sandwich down, “Would you like your usual?”

Y/n nods and says thank you, sending the server off.

“I just like it here, am I not allowed to come here?” it isn’t a lie technically, he does like the cafe, but was it the full truth maybe not, “Also paparazzi aren’t allowed to come in here or in this district” he added, trying to save himself.

Y/n doesn’t seem relieved nor mad at Chan’s response; she just looks tired. “I want to talk about last time,” she places her drink down, “Can we talk about it?”

Chan does want to talk about it but he doesn’t and the fact that she brought it up so suddenly and that he wasn’t expecting it makes him say, “I don’t really know what’s there to talk about.”

Y/n makes a face, like “really?”, except instead of being annoyed she just seems disappointed, “You always hated confrontation.”

Chan just looks at Y/n not sure what to say, his silence annoys Y/n.

“Fine then. You listen and I’ll talk, okay?” Chan nods.

“I really don’t want to hate you. I want us to be able to move on happily with our lives with no hate for each other.” Y/n looks at Chan to see if he’ll say something, he just nods. “I think I was probably intoxicated and I was also in an emotional state last time you saw me. It was all just bad timing. I had no idea you’d be at the bar at the same time as me, especially… well yeah.”

“Yeah.” is all Chan gets out, trying to pretend like he didn’t follow her to the bar.

“In the car, I meant everything.”

That makes Chan look at you, “what do you mean?”

“Everything.” You play with your hands, you’re more nervous now, “I meant to get mad and irritated at you. I’m not going to deny my feelings just because you don’t agree with them. I don’t know or think you reflected on our conversation as much as I did but I know I got loud but it was just because it felt like you weren’t listening to me. And I know you technically don’t have to listen to me because like you said, we’re not dating.“ Y/n pauses to make eye contact with Chan, “I just had some pent up emotions that I just never got rid of and it was eating at me. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you when you’ve moved on.”

Chan doesn’t look away, “Y/n?”

She looks up at him, “yeah?”

“Did you mean it when you said I was the love of your life?”

Y/n forces a smile, and a pink flush shows onto her cheeks, she calms herself down quickly before answering with, “I mean, no shame in it, but yeah.” She picks up her drink right after, then continues talking.

But Chan can’t hear anything because he’s still thinking about it, “Why did you never tell me that?”

“What?” Y/n looks irritated that you interrupted her, but confused.

“Why didn’t you..you tell me I was the love of your life?” Chan hasn’t touched his food or drink.

“Because by the time I knew, I realized you didn’t think the same for me.” she sits up in her seat, “and no offense Chan, but I’m not one of your fans who’ll easily give you their heart and soul just because you say I love you to me. You can say that you loved me so much but your actions were lacking. It just wasn’t eno–”

“I love you. I mean I loved you.” Chan blurts out.

Y/n looks at him, quite shocked.

“You – I-I did love you, so much. Too much. ”

“Chan I need you to stop,” Y/n suddenly looking sad.

“No, come on now, listen it’s my turn to speak,” Chan places his hands flat on the table, “I loved you too much. It was indescribable. From the first time I met you here. I fell in love with you. And every single interaction after that I knew you were going to be the love of my life.”

Y/n looks around not being able to respond, nervous.

“Every time I saw you, you would pull me in. Like,” Chan stops, “...magnets.”

Chan looks into Y/n’s eyes, “did you make the password here?”

“Chan, it was made a long time ago.” She shrugs it off.

“No, I came here once a year ago, and the password was some random plant name.” Chan suddenly has more life into the words he’s saying.

“It’s just a word.” Y/n doesn’t look him in the eyes.

“Y/n, look at me.”

She doesn’t.

“What if we try again.” Chan isn’t asking, he’s stating.

You look up at him, “What?”

“I-I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re in my dreams, especially since I first saw you last month at the ice skating rink, you’ve been on my mind.”

“Chan stop.”

“No Y/n, come on, I know we have some things to fix between us, but you have to feel it too. Every time we see eachother we are pulled to eachother. Like magnets. That was our joke remember?” Chan’s just ranting now, he’s speaking so much more than he has in years. “We said we are total opposites, but we loved eachother. We were magnets, pulled together to be connected.”

“Y/n.” Chan gets you to look in his eyes for a moment, “I want to try again. I-I want you, I don’t what it is but I know it has to be you,”

Y/n’s eyes get watery but she scoffs, “Chan you’re not being fair right now.”

“Is this not what you wanted? For me to communicate how I’m feeling?”

“It’s too late for that Chan.”

“No, no it’s not, Y/n,” Chan takes both of your hands into his and looks you in the eyes, “I still love you.”

Chan watches as a tear drops down Y/n’s face, as she pulls her hands away, “I don’t think you understand how hurtful that was.”

“What?” Chan watches as she starts to stand up taking her drink, “Y/n –”

“Look, I wanted to say thank you for the ride and for the situation I was in with my boyfriend. I seemed –”

“Wait boyfriend?”

“Yes, please don't interrupt me.”

“You mean ex boyfriend?”

A bell rings saying that someone entered, making Y/n look over, Chan’s eyes following hers. 

A guy smiles and waves at her, and walks over to her, seeing Chan his face drops. 

“Hi Jaebum,” Chan hears you say softly to him before turning back to Chan, “Chan this is my boyfriend, Jaebum. Jaebum, this is my old friend… Chan. ”

“Hi we met briefly before, and I spoke with Y/n and I just wanted to apologize for my behavior.” Jaebum softly bows, “I’m really sorry, and thank you for taking care of her in that moment when it should’ve been me.” Jaebum looks at Chan.

Chan is silent, unsure of what to say, just looking at him.

“Jae, do you think you can wait in the car? I’ll be right out.” He nods before saying bye to Chan which Chan lazily waved back.

After Y/n sees Jaebum leave, she looks at Chan, “Look –”

“That guy is your boyfriend? Still?” 

“Chan don’t act like you know anything.”

“Do you love him?”

“You don’t get to ask that.”

“No, tell me right now,” he stands up, his figure leaning over you, “Tell me you love him.”

“You don’t deserve to know that.”

“Tell me you love him more than me.”

“Chan!” She looks at you in disbelief, “I-I have to go. I’m leaving. Goodbye.”

She leaves him quickly, leaving him standing next to his table, watching her as she walks out the doors.

author's note: im so so so so so sorry for taking so long to make a part 5. please forgive me college has been a huge bitch to me lately. thank you so much for your patience and i promise i will never take that long again to post an update on this story or any story without announcement 😔

#stray kids #skz #slow burn #bang chan #bang chan fluff #fluff #bang chan x reader #skz x reader #skz imagines #skz fluff #skz scenarios #skz smut #pov #angst #skz angst #skz soft thoughts #smut #bang chan smut #skz hard thoughts

[jasonsmirrorball]

bread and butter (587)

you guys can blame lumi for feeding my brain rot. minors, ageless and blank blogs do not interact with this post.

your limbs feel like jelly in the aftermath, boneless and limp. you’re not entirely sure you aren’t sinking into the mattress, panting soft breaths into jason’s mouth that pitch embarrassingly when you inhale. he’s starry eyed above you, holding himself up with his arms and kissing you sweetly. it spins your head, how petal soft his touches become once you’ve come, deep, unforgiving thrusts that had you seeing stars turning to feather-light strokes up and down your side.

you’re almost shy under his gaze, remembering the noises he’d coaxed out of you tonight. he grins knowingly, and you slip your eyes closed to hide but it’s in vain. he’s all around you, and you can feel the burn of his stare through your closed lids.

“hi,” he coos, nosing at your jaw. kiss bitten lips brush against your pulse and you whimper, still sensitive when he shifts to pull out. you feel the loss keenly, but he doesn’t stray far, only curving an arm under you to turn you over and gather you against his chest. you’re pliant, easily manoeuvred, sighing into his chest, dotted with sweat. “you were so good for me, you know that?”

you can only manage a broken murmur, a heavy, drowsy exhale as you rest your head. he makes a noise and you feel it reverberate in his chest, against your cheek. “nuh-uh, baby, gotta drink some water for me.”

he’s unrelenting even against your wordless whines, stretching to retrieve the glass of water on the nightstand and pressing the lip to your mouth. you swallow, taking slow sips until it empties and he hums in satisfaction. his other hand hasn’t left your back, fingers pressing comforting circles into your tired muscles.

you think, when he sets the glass back where he’d picked it up from, that you’re going to be allowed to rest. but jason reaches for the t-shirt he’d discarded some hours earlier and slips it over your head. the cotton sticks to your sticky body, the smell of his musk still clinging to the fabric and reaching your nose. he picks you up easily, an arm under your bottom to support you against his chest and you’re carried through the apartment to the living area.

“how are you not tired?” you rasp hoarsely, feeling misery lingering on the fringes of your fuzzy mind. he kisses your forehead in response, and then your stomach drops when he settles you on the couch.

it’s well past midnight, according to the clock above the television set, but jason pries himself from your grasp with a kiss and disappears a few feet away to the kitchen. he flicks the light on and putters around the space, the sounds of cutlery clinking as he pulls the drawer open.

you watch him for a few moments, bemused, cheek propped up against a trembling hand, before you decide to close your eyes for a moment.

when you open them next, it’s to the sight of toasted bread, melted butter painting it golden, held under your nose. you look from the grilled cheese sandwiches to jason, who raises his eyebrows expectantly.

he ends up feeding you, sinking into the couch beside you. he steals a few bites of his own, the both of you eating quietly in the dark living room. and afterwards, when he’s wiped the crumbs away from your mouth and the yawns threaten to overtake you both, he carries you back to your bedroom.

you fall asleep the moment your head hits the pillow.

need me a jason to make me a cheese toastie after the best sex of my life

#jasonsmirrorball #jay my heart

[arealphrooblem]

Kidnapped by the Boss Part 6

Part one here

Synopsis: Civilian is a secretary to the Prime Minster. But when the political summit between the city states goes awry, she finds herself kidnapped by the very boss she tried to protect and nothing is what it seems.

CW: Hunger Strike, disordered eating *summary of chapter will be at the bottom for anyone who wants to skip it.*

Breakfast was delivered via servant a short while after he dropped her off. Her stomach roiled at the sight of all her favorites carefully arranged on the tray. It reminded her, quite forcefully, of how her grandmother used to wrap bitter pills in peanut butter balls or turkey for her ailing dog.

He wanted so badly to preserve the relationship they had before, as if he hadn’t completely obliterated it himself. He must have thought it would keep her complacent when her fear faded out.

He thought he knew her, but he had only ever seen her at her job. And sure, some days were hard and he caught a glimpse of her frustration or anxiety. As the years bled into each other, he learned little things about her, like her favorite foods or the TV shows that she rewatched obsessively.

But he never actually saw her. Even at the height of her newfound crush on him, Val kept a tight lid on any unprofessional slip ups and her personal life rarely leaked over into her job.

He thought patient, reliable, helpful Val was the only facet of her being. He knew nothing of the depths of her rage, her pig-headed stubbornness,

She took a slice of toast and threw the rest in the trash.

“Knock knock, Val. I hope you’re decent.”

The driver’s voice sounded about two seconds before the door opened. Of course, by the afternoon Val had already showered and dressed for the day. Still, it was a little unsettling how little time he’d give her if she wasn’t.

“Does it ever get old, coming here to irritate the shit out of me?” she demands, crossing her arms.

“Angel, it got old the first time.” He rolled his eyes. “Do you think it's my choice to be here?”

“Do you actually have free will or are you just a highly realistic robot?”

“Do you want a tour of the castle or do you want to stay stuck in this room?”

“ . . .What?”

“Apparently the rumor goes that your incredibly lavish and luxurious rooms are not good enough for you. So I’ve been tasked to show you around, let you stretch your legs or whatever.”

“Stretch my legs?” she repeated skeptically. “Where? Over the edge of the roof?”

“Or, you know, to the library. Or the zoo.”

“There’s a zoo here?”

The driver waved his hand dismissively. “Technically a rescue animal sanctuary. He calls it a menagerie because he’s pretentious as hell. But let’s be real — its a glorified petting zoo.”

A zoo and a library. Val had to admit both intrigued her greatly. Staying in this room did her no favors, mentally, with nothing to do but stew in her own fear and frustration.

She opened her mouth to comply and then promptly shut it closed.

Bitter pill. Peanut Butter.

Any kindness from him came with strings, no doubt, so he could yank her around like a little puppet.

“No,” she said instead. “I’m staying here.”

The driver’s eyebrows shot up. “You don’t need to be afraid. I’m not going to kill you unless he asks me to — no matter how annoying you are. And if he does, I’ll snap your neck. Quick, efficient. Shoving you off the roof is cowardly and makes too big of a mess.”

It was her turn to roll her eyes. “That’s very thoughtful of you, but it has nothing to do with that. I just don’t want to go. You can tell your king to stick his zoo and his library up his ass.”

The driver gave her a long stare. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a stubborn fucking idiot?”

“Once or twice.”

He shook his head. “If you want to go slowly insane in this room, have at it, I guess.”

Lunch came. Her stomach growled at the sight of her favorite sandwich but she forced herself to throw that away too. (she ate the pickle spear though). He wanted something from her and he wasn’t going to get it just because he plied her with food and entertainment.

 A cage was a cage.

She didn’t even bother to check what dinner was. The tray and lid sat untouched on the table for the servants to whisk away tomorrow.

Hunger woke up her up later that night, her mouth dry. Head dizzy. Her stomach cramped with it, a howling beast. It was so tempting to tear the lid of the dinner off and eat it with her hands that she went and locked herself in the bathroom for a while.

A few handfuls of water from the sink was all she allowed herself. When she felt strong enough, she set the tray in the bathroom floor and shut the door to block the temptation. Sleep claimed her for a long time.

“My lady. You need to wake up.”

A hand kept delicately patting her shoulder, chasing her out of another nightmare. She jerked awake, scrambling to sit up in the bed.

One of the servants, a woman old enough to be her mother with a calm but impassive face, stared down at her. Her uniform was immaculate.

“I’m sorry,” Val found herself saying. “What — what time is it? Has something happened?”

“It is nearly eleven, ma’am. His majesty will be here in roughly ten minutes with breakfast. I advise you to dress.”

“Ten minutes?” she squawked.

“Do you need any assistance?” the woman asked.

God her head was splitting now that sleep started to fall away. “Painkillers?” she asked weakly. “My head hurts.”

To her surprise, the woman gave her a stern look. “I’m sure it does,” she said with a bland tone that did not match the look in her eyes.

The woman swept off through the door without another look in Val’s direction.

What was that about? she wondered as she stumbled to the dresser. But the fogginess in her head lay too thick to figure it out. She felt like complete and utter shit and the last thing she felt ready to deal with was him.

The bed beckoned her with its feather pillows and down comforter and high thread count sheets. She stared longingly back for a moment, debating on how convincingly she could pretend to sleep when he showed up, before sighing and putting on a fresh change of clothes.

She had just tamed her hair into another pony tail when a knock came from the door.

“Rise and shine, princess,” said the driver’s voice.

Goddamn it. She had to deal with both of them.

“Can we reschedule?” she yelled out. “I’m busy.”

“I’m afraid not, love,” said the king’s voice.  “I’d rather not wait.”

She did not like the sound of that. “Fine,” she growled. “Let’s get this over with.”

The door opened, the driver propping it open with his foot as the king stepped in with a large covered tray.

“I don’t know why you bother with knocking,” the driver muttered. “It’s not like her permission matters.”

“Because I have manners,” the king sniffed, setting the tray down on the table. “Unlike some people.”

He looked up and gave her a wink, as if sharing an inside joke.

“You don’t keep me around for manners.” The driver hopped up on her unmade bed, pulling a knife from his belt and setting it on the comforter.

“Make yourself at home,” Val said scathingly.

“How generous of you.” He bared his teeth in a dangerous smile. “I think I will.”

The king made himself busy setting out the spread. Toast and jams and sausage links and cubed cheese and a thermos of coffee with delicate china cups.

“Children, play nice. It’s not even noon. Val, please, heave a seat.”

Just looking at the food made her stomach rebel, even as the rest of her body desperately craved it. The smell invaded her nose, making her swallow back a gag. God, why couldn’t she just sleep all day? It’s not like she had anything else to do.

“Why are you here?” she asked. “What do you want now?”

“I have something for you.” The king lowered himself down in the chair opposite of her and gestured for her to do the same. “But first, we should eat.”

“I don’t want it.”

“You’ll think differently when you see what it is. Now sit.”

He gave her a warning look, the danger of his true self slipping out from behind the mask. Val sat, feeling the presence of the assassin behind her with a knife like a prickle on the back of her neck.

“Which jam would you like on your toast?” he asked. “We have peach, strawberry, lemon chardonnay, and cherry.”

“No thank you,” she said through gritted teeth. Her stomach felt as if it were trying to eat itself.

“I insist you try the lemon chardonnay, it’s phenomenal. I have it every morning.”

He covered a triangle of toast in a thin layer of bright yellow jam before setting it on a tiny plate and handing it to her. The citrus smell washed over her, intoxicating. Any other time she would have devoured it. She loved lemon flavored pastries and he knew it. Which was why it didn’t cost her much to set her plate down off to the side  and ignore it.

The wave of twisted self satisfaction more than made up for her hunger.

Next he poured her a glass of clear water from another thermos and slid it over to her.

“Water?”

“I’m not thirsty.”

She wanted to drown herself in that glass of water, but she’d rather drop dead than give him that satisfaction. He wanted her to eat and drink so badly. He wanted her healthy enough to pretend that her life wasn’t in his hands. To forget how responsible he was for ruining it.

She wouldn’t let him.

“You are thirsty, though,” he said, his stare cutting her from across the table. “Because you haven’t eaten or drank anything in almost three days.”

“That’s not true.”

She had a pickle slice. And a piece of plain toast. And some water from the sink. His gaze narrowed, though, the previous warmth in his gaze clouding over.

“Oh but it is. The servants have found your food in the trash after every meal, save for last night’s dinner, which they found in the bathroom while you were sleeping.”

“I’m still figuring that one out,” muttered the driver from behind her.

“Why does it matter what I do with my food,” she retorted.

Silence answered her. Silence and that unnerving gaze pinning her down like a push pin in a cork board. She fought the urge to squirm under it, to feel like a student confronted by an angry principal. Though only a decade separated them, she felt like a child around him at times. A silly, clueless child.

But of course . . . He wasn’t actually a decade older. He was several decades older. Over a century older, at least in his mind.

“Val.”

He kept using her name like it meant something to him and it pissed her off.

“Eugene,” she said, his old name still feeling like sacrilege to the part of her brain still clinging to her previous professionalism.

If it bothered him, he showed no sign.

“I know what this is,” he said finally. 

Her hackles raised.

“Breakfast” she said, raising a brow.

“Control,” he countered. “Rebellion. Whittling yourself down to spite me.”

She hated how easily he saw through her. How well he could guess what laid under her professional mask when she couldn’t get a read on him at all.

“Maybe I don’t like the food,” she said, purposefully obtuse.

“Nonsense,” he said dismissively. “I know everything you like.”

“You’re not going to get anywhere because of that,” she snapped. “I’m not a kid you can bribe with candy and a trip to the zoo.”

“So that’s what this is.” He leaned forward in his chair. “I’m not trying to bribe you, Val. I’m just trying to feed you.”

“Well I don’t want to eat it.”

“Would you rather I send you food that you hate? French onion soup and pork rinds and spicy curry? Would that make you feel better?”

“I’m not eating anything that you give me.” She crossed her arms, fingers clenching tight at her sides, feeling as if she were digging and digging further into her own grave.

She would rather die than give him any kind of satisfaction and it scared her that that thought could be literal. But she didn’t know how to back down yet she couldn’t stomach the thought of giving him the one thing she could deny him when he had taken everything else.

“For how long? Because I’m not sure if you noticed, Val, but the only food available to you comes from me.”

She shrugged, not having an answer. It’s not like she planned a hunger strike. But refusing to eat fueled the rage simmering inside her and that felt so much better than the fear. It felt like she could do something, even if it only hurt herself.

His gaze flickered over her shoulder for a moment before returning to hers.

“It stops today. I am not leaving this room until you eat something.”

“You’ll be waiting a long time,” she retorted with bravado she didn’t feel.

Especially with the hands that dropped suddenly onto her shoulders. She launched forward, even when she had nowhere to run, but the hands grabbed her wrists and pulled her arms back behind the chair. Tugging only brought sharp pain in her shoulders, the driver’s hands a shackle around her own. 

The king stood up and stepped towards her. “You will eat today, by your hand or by mine. The choice is yours. And if you make either impossible I will chain you to a hospital bed and an IV drip. To be fair you might be close to that already with your dehydration. So we will start with that glass of water.”

He plopped a glass straw into the cup and held it out for her.

“Why does this matter so much that I live?” she demanded. “That I’m healthy? What does it matter to you what I do to myself?”

For a moment he didn’t answer. Then he set the glass back down on the table and knelt down on one knee beside her chair, hand resting lightly on the arm. It brought him a few inches under her gaze so he had to look up, dark eyes fathomless. She couldn’t tell what emotion shone out of them, but it burned unfiltered.

“I must admit, when I pulled you into the car and onto the plane I didn’t know what I was going to do with you,” he said quietly. “ But I never considered torture or punishment — you’ve done nothing wrong. And yet, it didn’t matter, because you have done nothing but torment yourself since you got here.”

She broke away from his gaze, her stomach twisting uncomfortably, but he didn’t stop. 

“You don’t sleep and then you stop eating. You live in constant fear despite our reassurances that you’re safe. I try to give you comforts, things to make you happy and you reject it all. It’s not meant as a bribe to lull you into complacency or servitude. The reason why you’re here is because you cared about me enough to risk your safety and I refuse to have you punished for it but that’s exactly what will happen when you go back home.” 

Fingers nudged her chin until their gaze met again. 

“I’m trying to give you a life here. Bit by bit. Will you let me?”

He looked so beseeching, so soft. It hurt. She wanted to believe it so bad. 

“You tell me I’m safe but  you’ve threatened my life multiple times since I got in that car,” she pointed out. “You both have. He especially loves to point out how I live on borrowed time and borrowed favor,” she added, jerking her chin back towards the driver. 

Ice settled in those dark eyes as he flickered them over her shoulder. Immediately the driver released her arms, relief following immediately afterwards. She shook them out, then cradled them to her chest. 

“Rook has a penchant for practicality that borders on the sociopathic,” the king said. “And I haven’t threatened you so much as warned.” He took one of her hands in his. “I’ve been building up to this moment for three lifetimes and I cannot allow anyone to stand in my way. Not even you. So long as you don’t actively impede me, you have nothing to fear from me.” 

She swallowed. “You’re a very terrifying person for someone who wants my trust.”

He smiled then, a soft rueful thing. “I was not always so. Will you trust me, anyway, Val?”

And this was why he was elected, she thought with a mental shake of her head, despite his vague past and unknown status. 

“I will . . .consider it,” she said slowly. 

“And will you eat with me? . . . .Please?”

Val sighed deeply, knowing she lost this round. “Yes.”

His smile spread, slow and bright, like the sun coming up over the ridge and butterflies rioted in her chest to meet it. Goddamn it. If kidnapping and captivity and threat of potential murder wouldn't kill this stupid crush, did she have any hope at all of ever being rid of it?

Tag list:

@rivalriotrenegade @sunyside-world @fishtale88 @those-damn-snippets @suspiciousmuffin @thats-alittle-gay @girl-of-the-sea-and-stars @tobeornottobeateacher @burningkittypoet @kurai-hono-blog @clover-sage

Summary: Val goes on a spontaneous hunger strike, not really intending it to be one but because she sees serving her favorite foods as a bribe to get her to comply. She compares it to the peanut butter her grandmother wraps medicine in for her dog.

After three days of very little to eat and drink, the king and the driver visit with breakfast. The king tries to force her to eat, Val and the King have a confrontation when she refuses, and he admits that he isn't trying to bribe her, but to help her make a life here since she will be punished if she ever went back home. He doesn't want her punished just because she cared enough about him to look for him in the parking lot. Eventually Val agrees to eat again and she says she will consider trusting his word when he told her he didn't want to hurt or kill her.

#hero x villain #villain x civilian #heroes and villains #writeblr #original fiction #kidnapped by the boss #named characters #enemies to lovers #fantasci tumblr #my writing

[proxima-writes]

title: a million moments

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller/female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

chapters: 1/1

summary: a slice of a happy life with joel miller.

read on ao3 | masterlist

author’s note: this fluffy fic is based off of this gif set by @serenaxpedro , this ask, and this one! requests are open if you’ve got something you’re itching to read, and please consider leaving a lil comment if you enjoyed this fic! 💕

contents warnings/additional tags: explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), no use of y/n, fluff!!!!, happy and soft pre-outbreak joel as the lord intended, established relationship, domestic as hell!!!!, discussions of marriage, pet names, dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v, minor breeding kink. let me know if any are missing!

You’re finishing up breakfast, talking with Sarah as she tells you about a test she has coming up, when Joel shuffles into the kitchen, yawning widely as he scrubs a hand through his hair.

“My favorite girls,” he says, pressing a kiss first to Sarah’s cheek before wrapping his arms around your middle and leaning his head against your shoulder blade, eyes falling closed again. “Smells good.”

“I made eggs. Yours are cold because you kept hitting the snooze button,” you tease. You can feel his lips spread into a smile against your back. “Sit. Eat. I need to make lunches.”

He brings a palm up to turn your face to his, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips over your shoulder. The kiss is followed by three squeezes to your hip before he reaches past you to grab the plate you made for him, popping it in the microwave.

With the two Millers chatting behind you, you assemble their lunches. Sarah always requests a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, while Joel prefers to bring two ham and cheese sandwiches to work. They each get apple slices and a bag of chips, and you slip a Twinkie into Joel’s box as well, knowing he has a sweet tooth.

Which reminds you…

“Joel, don’t forget you have a dentist appointment at two,” you tell him.

“Shit. I mean, shoot,” he replies.

“Swear jar,” you and Sarah say in unison. The teen giggles as Joel grumbles under his breath, digging his wallet from his pants. He checks his watch. “Finish up, baby girl, we gotta get goin’.”

You watch as Sarah shoves the last of her toast into her mouth. Joel stands, sticking his plate in the sink and pressing a kiss to your cheek before he leaves the kitchen in search of his work boots.

“Babe! Have you seen—“

“On the porch!” You call, cutting him off.

You zip up Sarah’s lunch box, handing it to her as she flies through the kitchen.

“Thank you!” She calls, blowing you a kiss as she heads for the front door. You wave to her, watching through the bay window as Joel gets into the truck, waving through the windshield as he backs out.

You’re smiling to yourself as you clean up the sink, humming a vague tune as you stick the breakfast dishes in the dishwasher. Your mind drifts back to the night you met Joel Miller, about a year ago.

“Please tell me you’re not about to rent that,” a masculine voice asks from beside you, making you jump, nearly losing your hold on the DVD case you were reading, a copy of The Lord of the Rings that was sitting in the new release section.

The man eyeing the DVD case is tall and broad shouldered, with biceps straining the material of his t-shirt. He has curly dark hair and kind brown eyes that are looking at you expectantly.

“Oh, uh, I was thinking about it. Is it bad?” You ask. He runs a hand through his hair.

“No, no, it’s a great choice it’s just…my daughter just finished the book this week and I told her I’d rent her the movie when she did,” he admits.

“Oh! You go ahead and rent it, then,” you tell him, holding the case out to him.

“Are you sure?” He asks, reaching for it. His fingertips brush against yours, the slight touch enough to leave you craving more as you return his bright smile. “I’m Joel, by the way.”

After returning his introduction with your own, he lingers for a moment. You’re just staring at each other with goofy smiles on your faces.

“Could I…make it up to you? With dinner?” He finally asks.

“I’d like that, Joel.”

You finish the dishes and grab a rag to wipe down the counters when you notice the lunch box still sitting there. You can’t help the little laugh that escapes you.

Checking the time, you head back to the bedroom to get ready for your shift at the hair salon, resolving to bring Joel his lunch during your break.

________

Joel sees your car pull up at the work site and his face splits in a grin. He tugs his work gloves off and goes to meet you.

“Well, hello there, gorgeous,” he calls. God, he loves the way your cheeks turn the prettiest shade of pink just for him. “What’s the occasion?”

“The occasion, Joel Miller, is that you forgot your lunch at home,” you say, shaking the lunch box in your hand. He laughs.

“What would I do without you?” He asks, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. Your head tips back to look at him and presses a kiss to your lips. “Stay to eat with me?”

“Sure. Let me grab my lunch. I’ll meet you at your truck,” you say, squeezing his hip three times as you pull away. He tugs you back for another kiss, swallowing your giggles. “Joel, let me go.”

“Never, darlin’.”

________

You’re sitting between Joel’s legs, your back pressed to his chest, in the bed of the truck. He’s parked beneath a large tree, the shade a relief from the Texas heat as you both enjoy your sandwiches.

“What are your thoughts on marriage?” Joel asks, apropos of nothing. You blink.

“In general? They’re positive ones. Why?”

You feel him shrug beneath you. “Just been thinkin’ about it lately.”

Your smile makes your cheeks ache.

________

Joel stops at the store on the way home, a spring in his step from a good day. He scrutinizes the flower selection, hands on his hips as he tries to pick out a bouquet. His eyes land on a bouquet of bursting pink peonies.

Perfect.

On the drive home, he hums along to the classic rock radio, fingers drumming in the steering wheel, flowers settled on the passenger seat with care. His mind drifts back to the conversation at lunch, and how you’d grinned at him when he mentioned he’d been thinking about marriage lately.

And it’s the truth, he’d been thinking about it a lot. Every time he turned over in bed and slipped an arm around your waist, tugging you closer. Or when he’d come into the kitchen and find you bent over Sarah’s math homework with a furrow in your brow as you tried to help her, despite math being your weakest subject. Or finding the little notes left in his lunch box, scribbled I love yous on colorful paper that he keeps in his glove box for safekeeping.

He thinks about it every time he opens his wallet and sees the folded photo strip of you, him, and Sarah, squeezed into a photo booth at a carnival as you make silly faces at the camera. Or when you’re getting ready in the morning, slicking lip gloss onto your pretty lips and he wants to kiss it all away.

There are a million moments that he thinks about marrying you.

Joel walks in on one such moment this evening. You’re alone in the kitchen, humming as you stir something in the pot on the stove. He steps up behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your neck.

“Hey, baby,” he murmurs between kisses.

“Hey, handsome,” you reply, turning to face him. Your eyes light up when you see the flowers in his hand. “Those for me?”

“For my one and only,” he confirms, letting you take them from him. You press your nose to the blooms, inhaling deeply.

“They’re amazing,” you gush, moving around the kitchen to find a vase to fill with water. You hand them back to Joel and he removes the wrapping paper, using the kitchen shears to cut the ends off the stems.

You set a glass vase of water on the kitchen table and Joel tips the flowers into them, watching with a small smile as you arrange them to look their best.

“I love them,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“I love you,” he says.

________

Joel kisses you breathless, right there in the kitchen. His tongue slides against yours, his hands smoothing down your waist until they grip your hips and tug you closer.

“Gross,” Sarah comments from the doorway. Joel pulls back abruptly. He squeezes your hips three times before letting go, crossing to the doorway to pull Sarah into a hug.

“Set the table,” he tells her, ruffling a hand through her curly hair. She groans, batting at his hand and ducking away from him to grab the silverware.

The three of you enjoy dinner, followed by Joel starting up a movie that Sarah’s been begging to watch.

“Don’t fall asleep,” Joel tells her.

“I won’t!” Sarah insists.

She’s out cold twenty minutes later. Joel laughs silently.

“I’ll get her in bed,” he says, shifting out from beneath her and picking her up from the couch. “Meet you in the bedroom?”

You nod, turning the TV off and putting away the blanket the three of you had been sharing. You head upstairs to your shared bedroom, changing into one of Joel’s well loved t-shirts before climbing into bed, turning the bedside lamp on.

“Never gets old,” Joel says when he comes in a moment later. He reaches behind his head, tugging his shirt up and off.

“What’s that?” You ask.

“You, in my bed. In my clothes,” he says, shoving his jeans down his thighs and kicking them away. You raise an eyebrow at him. “I’ll put them in the hamper later, I swear, let me just hold you.”

He crawls into bed, flopping beside you with a groan and shimmying around until he’s pulled you into his body, tugging your leg over his hip and pressing his head to your chest with a sigh. You run your fingers through his soft curly hair.

“Love you,” he says into your chest.

“You sayin’ that to me or my boobs?” You ask, teasing lilt to your voice.

“Both, definitely both,” he confirms, lifting his head. He brings a hand to the back of your neck to drag your lips to his. The kiss is slow and syrupy, no rush and all the time in the world to enjoy each other.

Joel’s mouth opens against yours, tongue exploring at his leisure. His hand slides down your back until he grips a handful of your ass, tugging you closer until your pussy drags against his hardening cock.

You whine against his lips, and he repeats the action. “You feelin’ a little needy, baby?”

You nod, and he shifts forward, pressing your back to the mattress and hovering over you. His mouth trails across your jaw and down your neck, wet hot kisses marking you like a tattoo, his love seeping beneath your skin.

His calloused fingers drag your shirt up, bunching it up beneath your armpits to expose your breasts to the cool bedroom air. You squirm beneath him as he kisses your sternum before taking one pert nipple between his lips with little preamble.

His tongue swirls around your hard nipple before he draws back with a nip of teeth that makes you gasp. You can feel his grin against your skin as he moves to give your other breast the same treatment.

Joel slips a hand into your panties, finger sliding through your wet folds and he groans. “God, this pussy, baby. Always so fuckin’ wet for me.”

A finger dips into your entrance and you keen, pressing your head back against the pillow. He shushes you as he kisses your tummy. He withdraws his hand to your whine of displeasure.

Joel tugs your underwear over your hips, dragging them down your legs before he tosses them to the side. His hands press your legs apart so that he can position himself on his belly between them, face close to where you crave him most. He kisses your inner thighs, teasing you mercilessly.

“Joel,” you whine. Your fingers tangle in his hair.

He chuckles. “You want my mouth, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you groan.

“Ask nicely.”

“Please, put your mouth on me, baby.”

He licks through your folds, swirling his tongue deftly over your sensitive clit. The sudden stimulation makes your hips buck against his face and he throws an arm over you to keep you still.

Joel is a man on a mission, pulling out all the moves he knows drive you wild. Circling your clit before sucking it between his lips, dipping down to your entrance to drive his tongue against you to drink up your essence. His teeth graze the bundle of nerves and you bite back a shout, hips fighting against his hold.

His free hand presses a finger to your hole, slipping inside you wet heat. He groans against you, the vibration of it making you whine. One finger becomes two that he curls against your front wall, grazing a spot inside of you that makes you see stars.

He looks up at you from between your legs, brown eyes shaded with lust as he works you until you shatter, your release dripping down his wrist as he slows his hand and draws out the swipes of his tongue in broad strokes.

You sink into the mattress, a boneless heap in the aftermath. Joel sits up with a smug smile, crawling over your body until his face hovers above yours.

“You wanna taste?” He murmurs, voice a low rumble you feel through all your nerve endings. You nod and he presses his fingertips to your lips, urging them to part. You lick the taste of yourself from his skin, tongue sliding over the digits reverently.

He presses against your tongue slightly before withdrawing, replacing his fingers with his lips and tongue in a deep and dirty kiss. You reach a hand into his boxers, gripping his length and pumping it leisurely. He hisses, hips flexing into your hold.

“Want your cock, baby,” you whisper, your thumb circling the head and smearing the drop of precum gathered at the slit around the crown. “Please?”

Joel shoves his boxers down in a hurry and you giggle at the display of desperation. He takes himself in hand, sliding himself through your wetness, bumping your still sensitive clit. He notches himself to your entrance, pressing forward in a slow slide until he’s pressed so deep and close you don’t know where you start and he ends.

His body is a welcome weight against yours as he flexes his hips, drawing back before snapping them forward in a harsh thrust. You gasp.

“That’s right, baby,” he says, teeth gritted. “This pretty cunt is all mine, huh?”

“Yours,” you agree, nails scraping against his shoulders. “Wan’ you to fill me up, Joel.”

His hips stutter. “Yeah? You want me drippin’ out of this pretty little pussy?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant back. He bites at your neck before sitting up on his heels, your legs held up against one shoulder as he uses a rough grip on your thighs to slam into you over and over and over.

You have to slap a palm over your mouth to keep the noises you’re making at manageable volume. His grin is near feral.

“Can’t help yourself, huh, darlin’? Wanna scream so bad over how my cock’s making you feel,” he growls. Your eyes flutter shut as you let him command your body how he desires.

You can feel your second orgasm creeping up on you as your belly starts to tighten, like all your nerves are gearing up to shatter in unison.

“Come on, baby, wanna feel you cum on my cock,” he tells you, his thrusts sloppy as he chases his own release. “Make that pussy milk me.”

It’s his dirty words that send you over the edge, forcing you to bite your lip to the point of pain. He lets your legs fall to his hips as he presses deeply into you, his cock pulsing his warm release as he slams his lips to yours, swallowing your noises and mixing them with his own.

His hips slow until he’s just pressed inside of you, his kisses turning into soft pecks to your lips. He lifts his head to look at you, smoothing your hair back from your sweaty forehead with a tender hand.

You smile, turning your head to press a kiss to his open palm.

“I love you, Joel.”

________

As Joel looks down at you, his heart squeezes in his chest. There was a time, around when Sarah’s mom left them both without warning, that he thought love was a hoax. That no one actually found it for themselves.

But looking into your eyes, he finds he was wrong. All that pain was just meant to lead him to you. He wants a million of these moments with you.

“I love you, too, sweetheart,” he murmurs.

Joel Miller tag list: @huffle-punk @johnwatsn @hopelessromantic727 @whereasport @pedr0swh0r3 @yellingloudly @dragon-of-winterfell @thedeadsingwithdirtintheirmouths @mydailyhyperfixations @liati2000 @ghostofjoharvelle @cutesyscreenname @morgaussy @letsgroovetonighttt @endlessthxxghts @fake-bleach @brilliantopposite187 @mattmurdock1021 @str84pedro

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#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #no use of y/n #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel tlou #joel miller fluff #joel x female reader #joel x reader

[eliashirsch]

How About A Picnic?

He’s like this often. Mostly when he doesn’t get what he wants, like: when the weather isn’t a perfect ninety degrees sunny without a cloud; when his bike creates that rattling noise during that time of the month again; when his toast isn’t crispy all the way to the edges; when he wakes up and Ice isn’t there with him.

Living with Maverick means seeing him pout every ten minutes. Like what he’s doing now. Bottom lip jutting out, eyes wide and slightly teary, shoulders defeated. The man is fifty-nine years old. 

It’s all for show, of course. If Maverick Mitchell is anything but, it’s easily offended. His heart is locked away in solid steel and guarded with spiked iron. He’s just looking for a reaction. Which Ice, for all of his reputation, can’t help but react anyway.

“What’s wrong?” Ice asks, coaxing Maverick to turn around and face him.

Maverick’s not giving in easily. His back’s turned, hands on his hips like a sulking toddler who’s been refused a second cookie. “Aren’t you the so-called ‘Maverick Whisperer’? Can’t you tell?”

“I’m not a mind reader,” Ice says for the hundredth time. “C’mon. Tell me. Is it the kids? Are they teasing you again?”

“No,” Maverick hisses and dodges Ice. “Go away. I hate you.”

No, you don’t. Ice resists saying it in fear of Maverick shutting him out even more. When he’s in a fussy mood, Maverick can’t handle too much ribbing. 

“I’m sorry,” he says instead. “Is it something I did? Did I forget an anniversary?”

“You’re a shitty husband if you have to ask that.”

“Well, better late than never.”

“Hmph.” Maverick scowls and pouts even more. 

Ice considers him, then gets an idea. Maverick narrows his eyes at him as if he can see the lightbulb on top of his head. 

He takes Maverick’s arms and yanks so they’re flush chest to chest, trapping his arms underneath so Maverick can’t escape. 

Ice drops a kiss on Maverick’s nose. “Tell me.” Another to his right eyebrow. “C’mon.” To the right eyebrow. “Tell me. You know you want to.” To the high of his cheekbone. “Tell me.” To his forehead, lips, jaw, neck, ears. Then all over again.

Maverick’s tense shoulders drop little by little, and by the twentieth kiss, he’s giggling and squirming, trying to get away from Ice’s wet lips. 

“Stop!” Maverick lets out.

“Only if you tell me.”

“Fine, you asshole!” Maverick glares, fierce as a kitten. “I wanted to go on a picnic but it’s going to rain later today.”

Ice can’t help but throw his head back and laugh. Oh, Mav. “Is that it?”

Maverick flushes. “I knew you’d laugh.” He slaps Ice’s chest, though the sting of it is chased away by a gentle rub. 

“I’m sorry,” Ice says through chuckles. “It’s just—you’re so goddamn cute, you know?”

“I’m not cute!” Maverick protests cutely. 

“You are.” Ice smiles. “The cutest.”

Maverick’s pout appears again, Ice kisses it away. 

“We can just go on that picnic now,” Ice suggests.

“Now? But it’s eleven in the afternoon.”

“So?”

“So? The sun’s way too high for that!”

Ice shrugs. “So what? You want to go, right?”

Maverick stares at him in quiet amazement, probably thinking about how his usually fussy boyfriend is suggesting to go on a picnic with the sun at its peak. Probably wondering what happened to him.

Love. Love happened to him. Ice will do anything for Maverick if he asks.

“Alright,” Maverick says. “But you’re making the sandwiches.”

“Sandwiches?”

“It’s the tradition! And you’re—better at cooking than I am,” Maverick struggles to say those last few words. 

Ice smirks. “You could just slap on some peanut butter and jelly and call it a day.”

“A perfect sandwich requires ham, a sunny-side-up egg, cheese, and slightly burnt toast!”

“Fine, fine.” Ice rolls his eyes like making a sandwich for his husband is that much of a burden. “I’ll get to cooking.”

“Atta boy.” Maverick smirks, and slaps Ice’s butt. 

#another one from the kisses prompts #first post of the year! #still getting back to the flow of writing! #old men in love #can't believe my last post was a banger #who knew so many people loved hangster! #icemav #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #iceman x maverick #top gun

[braidlottie]

lottieshauna ABC’S! (sfw)

hiiiii :3 i miss my Mommies :/

A FOR AFFECTION! how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?

lottie shows affection by physical touch :( and shauna loves spending quality time with you while lottie’s away at the compound.

B FOR BEST FRIEND! what would they be like as a best friend?

since being younger than them, they would be such doting and protective friends. you probably met through nat and you totally embarrassed yourself the first time you met them.

C FOR CUDDLES! would they like to cuddle? how do they cuddle?

they love sandwiching you inbetween them and kissing you on your cheeks :3

D FOR DOMESTIC! do they want to settle down? how are they at cooking and cleaning?

you love lottie’s cooking so much and you love shauna’s baking even more. just don’t let them switch, though. the only thing shauna can cook are scrambled eggs and toast, and lottie almost burnt the house on her 4th attempt at gingerbread cookies.

E FOR ENDING :( if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?

it would be such an emotional process!! so many tears :(( but lottie and shauna make sure that you know they love you very much and still would want to be friends outside the relationship.

F FOR FIGHTS! how would fights between them go?

it wasn’t you getting in fights, it was lottie and shauna. fights between them were extremely rare, but every couple fights. they would always be on separate sides of the house to avoid each other, and hated seeing them like that (and they hated seeing you so sad) and they made up with a couple of kisses.

G FOR GENTLE! how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?

so gentle with you, always. rubbing your back at a random occurrence, or keeping a soft voice if you get a little overwhelmed.

H FOR HUGS! do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?

SO MANY HUGS!! they both love giving u tight hugs and a kiss everyday (whenever lottie and shauna hug each other, they notice you get a little jealous scowl on your face, so they bring you in and dote on you.)

I FOR INJURY! how do they react if you get injured?

say you cut yourself while using a knife in the kitchen. you hiss a little and they immediately run to your aid, asking if you cut yourself. your hand is dripping with blood while you say, “its fine/it doesn’t hurt.” but they don’t listen to your protests. they take you to the bathroom and pull out the first aid kit, sanitizing and bandaging you up like a wounded soldier.

J FOR JEALOUSY! how jealous do they get? what do they do when they’re jealous?

they never get seriously jealous, only playfully. (ex. kissing and snuggling up to shauna in front of lottie and she starts pouting)

K FOR KISSES! what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?

so many kisses get distributed between the three of you within the day, you couldn’t count them on all of your fingers. shauna likes to leave long, lingering kisses, smiling in adoration as she pulls away. lottie leaves many small little pecks to the cheek and lips (you whine in embarrassment as she does so, but she knows you love it.)

L FOR LITTLE ONES! how are they around children?

lottie loves them, smiling even when she sees one on a commercial. shauna thinks they’re adorable as well, until they start crying.

M FOR MORNINGS! how are mornings spent with them?

mornings with them can go from snuggling in bed for an hour without a peep from any of you, or morning walks/bike rides through the park.

N FOR NIGHTS! how are nights spent with them?

lottie’s cooking dinner with some music on in the background, clashing loudly with the sound of your video game on the tv in the living room. shauna’s sitting on the couch and you’re sitting on the floor between her legs, making sure she’s watching you the whole time. that’s a perfect night imo >_<

O FOR OPEN! when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?

this is hard bc if it was no crash au, they would open up so quick. they feel so comfortable around you, and they want to share everything. but if it was what happened to them in canon, i feel like they would have a little sit down and walk you through the whole wilderness thing. and obviously, you would never judge them. you understood they did that to survive.

P FOR PATIENCE! how easily angered are they?

it takes a lot for lottie to get angry but shauna is a little more uptight, but never around you.

Q FOR QUIZZES! how much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?

they remember stuff like your favorite movie and color and whatnot, but also the weirdest, miscellaneous stories you told over the years, and they would bring it up around you to make you smile. lottie and shauna are good listeners, they wanna make sure you know they’re paying attention to you.

R FOR RAINY DAY! what are they like in the rain?

it’s movie marathons all day. lottie makes hot cocoa of the three of you and finds some cozy movies. you end you falling asleep in the middle of the first one, curling up next to shauna.

S FOR SECURITY! how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?

they are very protective people, especially shauna. she gets so mad someone at the grocery store or a restaurant is clearly checking you out, and she pulls you away because you’re too clueless to even realize.

T FOR TRY! how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?

lottie and shauna love spoiling you with gifts, even if it’s just a random day. they would always say it reminded you of them and they just have to buy it.

U FOR UGLY! what would be some bad habits of theirs?

none. they’re my perfect Little angels

V FOR VANITY! how concerned are they with their looks?

the both of them have issues with their looks some days, but always gets compliments and praise from you throughout the day.

W FOR WHOLE! would they feel incomplete without you?

YES. oh yes, they would. if you’re gone a few hours out of town for a couple days, they’ll miss you so much. like shauna would be doing folding laundry and see a shirt of yours and get a little emotional 😭😭

X FOR XTRA! a random headcanon for them

anytime they go out without you (ex. going to dinner with the other yjs), you’re always asleep when they get back. and they love it so much. your soft little breaths, and how cute you look with the blanket up to your chin. they wanna kiss and hold you so bad but they don’t wanna wake you up :’) the cutest aggression is Real

Y FOR YUCK! what are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?

selfish or insensitive people. and you’re far from that.

Z FOR ZZZ! what is a sleep habits of theirs?

lottie wears a sleeping mask bc you like to sleep with the beside table light on (because you watched a scary movie before bed and now you’re scared) and shauna always has cold feet and likes to bother you and lottie under the blanket 😭😭

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #lottieshauna #lottieshauna x reader #lottie x shauna #lottie matthews #lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews fluff #shauna shipman fluff #shauna shipman #shauna shipman x reader #shauna sadecki x reader #shauna sadecki

[ohtobeleah]

Stop, I can’t. I’m gonna die it’s too freaking cute!! “Bobs never been considered a hero in anyone’s minds. But your son? Boy does he think Bobs his personal superman”

Imagine how much this little kid looks up to Bob. Like it’s a Naval town. There’s a hell of a lot of guys who come and go from the cafe who are in the Navy—but Bob? Bobs just different.

“Is is scary?” Oliver’s asks one day while he sits at the booth by the book nook with Bob. They’re sharing a ham and cheese toasted sandwich while they wait for you to finish fixing the coffee machine that busted while you were all out. “Flying planes?”

“Yeah—it can be.” Bobs honest with the kid. “Kinda makes me feel sick sometimes, but it just depends on the day.” He breaks a bit of the toastie off for Ollie. “But I sit in the back and control the weapon’s systems, my front seater Phoenix who you met at the beach—she’s the one who flies the plane.”

Oliver nods, he understands.

“I still think you’re really cool.”

“Can you write that down for me?” Bob chuckles, no one’s ever thought he was cool. “I’ve got a friend from work who won’t believe me if I tell him that.”

#flight deck // bob floyd

[juyeonszn]

WHAT IS LOVE? — TWENTY NINE

PAIRING ₊˚⊹ lee juyeon x f!reader

SUMMARY ₊˚⊹ all is well in the business of matchmaking. except it’s actually not, because lee juyeon, the school’s star baseball player, has just come to you for help in obtaining the girl of his dreams. oh yeah! and he happens to be the guy you’ve had a crush on since your first year of university.

MORE ₊˚⊹ oh my god there’s only 6 chapters left….

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TWENTY NINE — A Space Just For You (2.05k)

Minho picks you up from your apartment at around 1:45 the next day, but instead of waiting by his car like Juyeon did, he knocks on your door. He stands there dressed in a pair of dark grey cargo pants and a plain white t-shirt when you open it for him. He’s wearing the simplest of outfits, but manages to make it look good like always.

You decided to wear a white camisole under a light blue cardigan and a denim skirt. He smiles at you the moment you become visible to him and it’s like all the heaviness in your heart has dissipated into thin air. It’s a smile you don’t get to see often, mostly because it’s reserved for you and he doesn’t like to show it to other people.

He reaches out and takes your hand gently into his, calling out a goodbye to Yuqi, who was watching Teen Titans Go! in the living room, as the two of you leave. You follow him like a lost puppy as he begins to walk down the sidewalk towards the university district, not that far from your apartment.

“We’re not taking your car?”

“Nah, the place is nearby anyway, I don’t see the point. It’d take longer just getting in and out of the car.” He shrugs, casting a sideways glance at you, who's already looking at him.

You just hum in response and continue to trail alongside him. It’s nice out today, it isn’t as hot as it had been and the breeze blows through the holes of your cardigan. Maybe this walk was exactly what you needed after the week you had. You could just stroll in comfortable silence since you knew Minho wouldn’t badger you to talk if you didn’t want to.

A few minutes later, you’re standing in front of the cafe Juyeon brought you to for breakfast. You want to spin on your heels and head for the other direction, but Minho reaches down to grab your hand again and squeezes it. You glance at him again and he gives you that same smile. It brings your heart rate back to normal, allowing you to go inside without complications.

You pick a booth closer to the back, sitting on the side that faces away from the entrance. Minho sits across from you and sighs as he looks through the menu. You watch as his eyebrows quirk together in concentration.

“I’ve never had the lunch from here, I don’t know what to get.” You scrunch your nose once you’ve started to browse your options.

“I didn’t know you’ve been here before,” he says, squinting his eyes as he reads one of the descriptions. “Was it for breakfast? They have really good French toast.”

“That’s what I had, actually,” you snort. “Yeah, I came last week, with— uh— with Juyeon.”

If he wants to say something about that, he chooses not to. He clears his throat, folding his hands over the menu. “I think I’m gonna have the chicken sandwich. It sounds good.”

You quickly look for said sandwich, skimming through its explanation. “Ooh, it does. I’ll get that, too.”

Minho smiles at you fondly. It’s something he’s always done when you’re not paying attention. He liked to think that perhaps you were the reason why the sun shined so brightly in the summer, because it was jealous of how exuberant you were. You were the reason why cherry blossom petals littered the streets in the spring, because they were jealous of your beauty. The wilted leaves in the fall and the glimmering snow in the winter sprinkled to the ground just so they could be touched by you.

From the day he met you, he’d been in love with you. No matter how many times you’ve shown that you’d never be more than just friends, he couldn’t help but stare at you with softness in his eyes. You were the stars and the sky itself to him.

He had never been good at expressing his feelings, so maybe it was his own fault for getting stuck in the friendzone. But even so, he knew it was only so long before you found out how he felt anyways. You deserved to know, despite whether or not he knew that he didn’t stand a chance in the world against Lee Juyeon.

As if the universe had been waiting for the golden opportunity to collide timelines, Lee Juyeon himself and Chou Tzuyu stride into the cafe. They sit at a table by the entrance, Juyeon facing directly towards you and Minho.

He doesn’t realize that it’s the two of you at first, too consumed by his nerves. Anyone would assume it was because he was here with Tzuyu, the girl he’d supposedly been into since first year of university. But that wasn’t the cause at all. No, in fact he was nervous for an entirely different reason.

He was still stuck on the fact that his chest felt tight upon the thought of losing you in any way. Your congratulatory remarks about him asking out Tzuyu seemed empty, though you tried to make them genuine. He could tell your heart wasn’t in it. He doesn’t know how, he just could.

And then there was that godforsaken fake date. Everything about it felt so real to him. It felt right. The stifled laughs as you wobbled onto the rink like a baby deer learning to walk for the first time. The way you held onto him like your life depended on it. That all too familiar glint in your eyes when he caught you after you’d almost fallen.

Even choosing those stupid flowers, the ones that reminded him so much of you. He wondered if you kept them. If you put them in a vase with water so they’d stay as fresh as possible. If they became your new favorite flower like you said they would.

He was driving himself insane with all of these thoughts, every single one about you. Sure he stressed a bit over the Tzuyu situation, but never this much. He never lost sleep over her or the possibility of her rejection. But here he was, sitting in front of the so-called “girl of his dreams”, dark circles under his eyes and an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach because of you, his matchmaker.

Back at your table, your food had just been served. You and Minho raise your sandwiches from your plates, tapping them against each other as if they were flutes of champagne. You giggle as you bring it to your mouth, eyes fluttering shut to savor the taste. His hums of approval echo the exact rating you were thinking in your head.

“Woah, this is actually really good,” you speak through a full mouth, reaching over to steal one of his fries. “Thank you, kind sir.”

“I’m glad you like it enough to resort to theft.” Minho playfully deadpans at you, copying your action and snatching one of yours. You laugh out loud at that, such a melodic and contagious sound that he can’t help but join you. His eyes crinkle at the sides and his heart swells in its confines behind his rib cage.

Your laugh rings in Juyeon’s ears and he perks up, scanning the cafe for the source. He’d only ever heard it once, when the two of you had breakfast in this exact spot. He made a joke about something baseball related and you bursted into an uncontrollable laughter. The joke wasn’t really that funny, but he remembered feeling a tiny flutter where his heart beat, because you understood it. It attached itself to a part of his brain so he could cherish it for as long as he wished to.

However embarrassing, he was thankful for that memory coming in handy now. He spots you and Minho quickly, though your back is to him. Your elbows are resting on the table as you eat your food, something that exhibited just how comfortable you were with your friend. Juyeon recognizes the loving gaze Minho directs to your figure. Had he misinterpreted that look in your eyes at the roller rink?

He has to hold back a gasp when the other male leans into you across the table. His view is slightly obstructed by Tzuyu in front of him, but he can use his context clues to put together what he just witnessed. It’s like the world around him had stopped spinning on its axis and everything had become meaningless. Maybe everyone should’ve listened to Chicken Little when he warned that the sky was falling.

Nothing could’ve prepared him for the shattering of his own heart, as if the sky had truly fallen.

“I’m glad you like it enough to resort to theft.”

“I’ll have you know that I’m actually wanted for grand larceny,” you wave a french fry in front of his face, popping it into your mouth. “I’ll keep doing it if you don’t start eating, Lee Minho.”

He raises his hands in surrender, before taking a sip of his cola. You take a big bite of your sandwich and thank the heavens that you agreed to be here. This was ten times better than wallowing in self pity in your bedroom. You were lucky you had someone like Minho in your life to distract you from the way it felt like everything around you was being lit on fire and burning to the ground.

Without a word, he leans across the table with a napkin in his hand, dabbing at the corner of your lips. “You had some sauce right there.”

You cover your mouth with your hand, snickering at his comment. “Okay, casanova, you could’ve just told me.”

He rolls his eyes, nudging your foot with his. “Next time, I just won’t say anything and let you walk around like a fool with chicken sandwich sauce on your face.”

You shake your head and kick him back. His lips part and unpart like he wants to say something else, but doesn’t know how to word it. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and he leans back into the booth with a sigh.

“Are you okay?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I just—” He pauses. “There’s something I have to tell you. Not because I want you to feel sorry for me or anything, but because I want you to know.”

“That’s ominous…” You swallow thickly.

“So, you know how I’ve always been the one in our friend group that never really approved of any of the guys you showed interest in,” he starts, wiping his sweaty palms on his thighs “Well, there’s a reason for that.”

When you nod for him to continue, he does. “For as long as I’ve known you, I’ve been in love with you, Y/N. I couldn’t tell you if there was a definitive moment in these past few years, because as far as I can remember, you’ve been the only girl I’ve felt this way about. And I’m not telling you because I expect something in return, I just thought it was right that you finally knew. I understand that you’re emotionally unavailable and I could never expect for you to have the same feelings after all you’ve been through.”

So many things fall into place at once all because of a single confession. Why Minho has always been at your beck and call without complaining or hesitating. Why he’s the first to tell it like it is, even if the truth was a bit too harsh. Why he constantly reminds you of your worth and why you shouldn’t put up with anything less than you deserve. Why he’s always the one picking up the pieces after you’ve gotten your heart stomped on.

You can’t comprehend why he’s let you put him through so much torture as long as he has, but you’re grateful for it all the same. Your eyes gloss over and before you know it, tears are spilling freely just like they did almost a week ago.

“I’m so sorry, Min,” you blubber. “I’m sorry that you fell for someone like me.”

He smiles at you sadly, wiping away your tears with his thumb. “I’m not. I couldn’t have asked for someone better.”

More than one heart was broken that day.

PREV ₊˚⊹ TWENTY EIGHT — clown to clown communication

NEXT ₊˚⊹ THIRTY — THE JUYEON THERAPY FUND

MASTERLIST

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TAGLIST ₊˚⊹ @matchaoreocrepes @maessseongs @tannieflix @winterchimez @kyusqult @itsbeeble @ericlvr @planethyuka

#the boyz #the boyz smau #tbz #tbz smau #the boyz juyeon #tbz juyeon #lee juyeon x reader #lee juyeon smau #lee juyeon social media au #juyeon x reader #juyeon smau #juyeon social media au #juyeonszn #what.is.love.juyeon🩷