#yum yum this glass is delicious would you like a piece

[deliciousangelfestival]

Underworld Insomnia || 3 - B. Barnes

Character : Bucky × Psychiatrist Female!Reader

Summary: As a ruthless contract killer, Bucky is feared in the underworld of criminals. His opponents freeze when they see him, as he is feared among them. However, they don't know that he could be warm to only one person: his psychiatrist. The only person who could make him fall asleep.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , -

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Please let me know what your thoughts are. I'd love to hear your feedback. Thank you once again.

Upon hearing your plea and witnessing your disheveled appearance, Bucky feels a surge of determination. After all, you had helped him with his sleeping troubles, and now it's his turn to repay the favor. "Let's go back to somewhere safe," he suggests, his voice steady and reassuring.

A glimmer of hope flickers in your eyes at Bucky's offer of assistance. With a grateful nod, you gather Conroy into your arms once more, feeling a renewed sense of purpose and determination.

As you start to move, Conroy's voice breaks the silence with a whisper, "Are we going to run again?"

You pause, glancing down at Conroy with a reassuring smile. "No," you reply softly, your voice filled with determination. "I think we will stay safe for a while."

Arriving at Bucky's house, Conroy's eyes widen in awe as he takes in the grandeur of the surroundings. "Wow, you're rich," he exclaims, unable to hide his admiration.

Bucky can't help but scoff at the comment, a small smirk playing at the corners of his lips. Finally, he feels a sense of accomplishment at being able to impress the young boy, even for a moment.

At that moment, Bucky had assumed Conroy was just a curious kid, until he made another astute observation.

Conroy adjusts his glasses and remarks, "There's no female trace in this place. It looks so empty, which means this must be one of your hidden houses."

Bucky's eyebrows raise in surprise at Conroy's insight. "You hit the nail on the head," he acknowledges, impressed by the boy's perceptiveness.

Bucky begins to piece together the situation. He realizes that you and Conroy must be hiding, especially considering the recent danger you faced. Given the risk of the masked man finding your address, you would unlikely return to your place. Although Bucky doesn't fully trust you, he sees no harm in offering one of his safehouses as a temporary refuge.

When you heard that, you felt relieved. If this place is one of Bucky's hidden houses, it means it's likely off the radar of the group of people who chased you and Conroy.

"Thank you so much for your help, Mr.Barnes," you express gratefully, feeling a sense of gratitude toward him.

Bucky chuckles softly. "Call me Bucky. I feel old every time you call me 'Mr.'"

Before you can reply, Conroy interjects with his typical bluntness. "But you are old."

Bucky grits his teeth and playfully ruffles Conroy's hair. "Go to sleep," he commands, trying to distract the boy.

Conroy protests, "I can't. I'm hungry!" His complaint is cut short when you offer him a piece of chicken. Before returning, Bucky had kindly bought dinner from a fast-food chain restaurant.

As Conroy takes a bite of the seasoned fried chicken, his eyes widen in delight. "Yum! This is the most delicious food I've ever eaten! It's even better than the food in the lab."

Bucky raises an eyebrow, intrigued by Conroy's mention of a lab. What does it mean? Is this the first time the kid has tasted fried chicken?

"I think it's time for me to explain," you suggest, sensing Bucky's curiosity and realizing it's time to share more about your situation with him.

You and Bucky converse in the living room while Conroy enjoys his food, appearing like any other child his age in moments like these.

Seated in different chairs facing each other, you begin, "Conroy is a special kid."

Bucky nods in agreement, recognizing the uniqueness of the situation.

You continue, "He grew up in a lab where all the best scientists gather. His mother is my sister, who is also a scientist."

Memories flood back to you, vividly recalling the day when your sister, weak but beaming with happiness, handed you Conroy. "He's your nephew," she said gently, sealing your bond. Since that day, you promised to protect Conroy.

"The reason why we're hiding is because of the Hercules project," you explain further.

Bucky listens intently, intrigued by the unfamiliar name.

"Hercules is the name of the drugs," you elaborate. "It's designed to make soldiers stronger, undefeatable, with accelerated wound healing, enhanced eyesight, and heightened hearing senses."

"Sounds promising," Bucky comments "What does this have to do with Conroy?"

You close your eyes, remembering the horrors of that terrible night. The day you lost your sister, along with the lab. "The drugs caused people to go insane. Blood poured from their eyes and ears, and they would harm themselves."

Bucky's expression darkens as he absorbs the gravity of the situation.

"The worst part," you continue grimly, "is that the lab wants to mass-produce the drugs for regular people, particularly those who enjoy working out. Just imagine the potential side effects."

Bucky's brow furrows in confusion. "Still, I just can't connect the situation with Conroy," he admits, struggling to understand the full extent of Conroy's involvement.

As you explain further, you clench your fist tightly, the tension evident in your voice. "The only person who could recreated the drugs is my sister. Conroy has an amazing memory. Before my sister died, she made sure he remembered the Hercules drug formula, the calculations, and the side-effects. But what truly made him a target is that he memorized the names of the victims."

Bucky is taken aback by this revelation, his expression mirroring his disbelief. "A 4-year-old understands something so gruesome?" he murmurs, his voice laced with incredulity.

You nod solemnly. "Yes. And that's why we're hiding."

"The people who chase us," you continue, your voice trembling with emotion, "on the day my sister destroyed the drugs, they destroyed the lab. Everything they built turned to ash. And everyone in it, including my sister." A shiver runs down your spine as you recall the horrifying events.

"If they catch Conroy," you whisper, your hands trembling as you clasp them together, "they will torture him, force him to reveal the Hercules drug formula. And after that..." You trail off, unable to voice the unspeakable horrors that may await Conroy if he were to fall into the wrong hands.

Tears well up in your eyes as you speak, the weight of the situation bearing down on you with crushing force. "I pray to God every day," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper, "that nothing bad happens to Conroy."

Bucky feels a surge of empathy as he listens to your story. If he had a family like yours, he knows he would be grateful beyond measure.

"Bucky, could you help us?" you ask, your voice tinged with desperation.

Bucky tilts his head, considering your request. "How are you going to pay me?" he inquires, his tone cautious and business-like.

You're taken aback by the question, realizing you hadn't thought about it before. "I...," you falter, unsure of how to respond.

"You can't afford me," Bucky asserts bluntly, cutting off your attempt to explain.

Speechless, you struggle to find the right words. "I-I know," you stammer, feeling a sense of helplessness wash over you. "Is there anything I could do?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bucky remains silent for a moment, his expression unreadable as he considers your offer.

Finally, he speaks, his voice low and measured. "Work for me," he suggests. "Read me to sleep."

"That's it?" you inquire, surprised by the simplicity of his request.

Bucky nods a hint of determination in his eyes. "That's it," he confirms.

You smile warmly at Bucky, feeling a surge of gratitude for his unexpected kindness. "I will give my best. Thank you, Bucky," you express sincerely, your voice filled with appreciation.

When Bucky sees your smile directed at him, he's taken aback. He's accustomed to seeing you with a groggy expression around him, so your genuine smile catches him off guard. It's a small gesture, but it makes him feel strangely reassured as if you're starting to trust him.

"Sister," Conroy pipes up, interrupting the moment with his childish voice.

Bucky rolls his eyes at the interruption, but a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

Conroy leaps toward you eagerly. "I'm full and I want to sleep. Read me a bedtime story, please," he requests, his excitement palpable.

However, before Conroy can reach you, Bucky swoops in and lifts him up. "Your sister is going to read me a bedtime story," he announces, a playful glint in his eye.

Conroy frowns in confusion. "But you're an adult. Why do you want to listen to children's stories?" he questions, his curiosity piqued.

You step in to defuse the situation, sensing the tension between the two. "Guys, calm down," you interject, your voice gentle yet firm. "I'll read it to both of you," you offer, hoping to restore peace and harmony to the moment.

As Conroy and Bucky settle into their respective armchairs, a palpable tension fills the room as they exchange glares.

You clear your throat, breaking the silence, and begin to read another bedtime story, hoping to diffuse the tension between the two.

"Once upon a time, there lived a mischievous squirrel named Sammy in a magical forest far, far away. Sammy was known throughout the forest for his clever tricks and daring escapades. Sammy's adventures took him to every corner of the forest, from the tallest treetops to the deepest, darkest caves. Along the way, he encountered many colorful characters, including wise old owls, friendly rabbits, and even a grumpy bear with a heart of gold-."

As you reach the story's climax, you notice their eyelids drooping, and before long, they both drift off into a peaceful sleep.

The soothing cadence of your voice coupled with the enchanting tale seems to be lulling them into a peaceful slumber.

You smile softly to yourself, feeling a sense of accomplishment as you witness the calming effect your storytelling has on them.

With each passing moment, their breathing becomes more rhythmic, and their bodies relax into the comfortable armchairs.

You quietly close the book, careful not to disturb their rest, and bask in the serene atmosphere of the room.

********

The next morning, Bucky wakes up feeling refreshed.

As he rises from his chair, he notices that Conroy is still sound asleep. Leaning down, Bucky can't help but admire the child's peaceful expression and chubby cheeks, finding him unexpectedly endearing. However, he knows all too well that Conroy's innocent appearance belies a sharp tongue that can test even Bucky's patience.

The aroma of something sweet wafts through the air, drawing Bucky's attention to the kitchen. Surprised, he finds you cooking pancakes—a sight he never expected, as he rarely sees anyone use the kitchen, let alone cook.

"Morning," you greet, turning off the stove and wiping your hands on your apron as you acknowledge Bucky's presence.

Bucky squints slightly against the brightness of the morning light streaming into the kitchen. The room seems to radiate with a warm and inviting atmosphere that he's not accustomed to experiencing.

"Uhm, morning," Bucky responds, still adjusting to the unexpected scene.

You take a recorder out of your pocket, explaining your idea from the previous night. "I thought ahead and recorded myself reading several children's stories," you explain. "There may be times when I can't be here to read to you, so this way, you'll always have something to listen to."

Bucky's eyes widen in surprise, impressed by your foresight. "Thank you," he murmurs sincerely.

"You want to try listening to it?" you offer, extending the recorder and a pair of earphones to Bucky. "Let me know if it's not good."

"Sure," Bucky replies, accepting your earphones and recorder. With a nod of appreciation, he puts on the earphones and presses the play button, eager to hear your recorded stories.

As Bucky listens to the recorded stories, he notices something unexpected—the faint sound of your breath in the background, almost as if you're beside him.

Intrigued by the intimate detail, Bucky finds himself drawn into the story, eager to experience the magic of your storytelling once again.

"Once upon a time, in a land of eternal winter, there lived a lonely snowflake named Frosty," the recording begins, your voice gentle and soothing. "Frosty longed for companionship, but no matter where he drifted, he found himself alone in the icy wilderness,-."

As Bucky continues to listen to your story, he finds himself growing increasingly relaxed. The soothing cadence of your voice and the gentle rhythm of your breath lull him into a state of tranquility.

Suddenly, his eyelids begin to droop, and he feels an overwhelming heaviness wash over his body. Before he can even register what's happening, his vision blurs, and everything fades into darkness.

You watch in shock as Bucky loses balance, the earphones slipping from his ears. "Bucky!" you exclaim, rushing to his side.

In just two short minutes of listening to your story, Bucky's body dropped to the floor.

Concerned, you gently shake him, trying to rouse him from his sudden slumber. "Bucky, wake up!" you urge, but he remains unresponsive.

Panicked, you quickly check his pulse and breathing, relieved to find that he's still alive, albeit deeply asleep.

As you try to process what just happened, you can't help but wonder—did your story really have that much of an impact on him, or is there something else going on with Bucky's health?

Join the taglist? 🩷💙🩷

@bagoffeelings

@darkofimagination

@starsofcloud

@cherrybubblebullet

@winterslove1917

@thezombieprostitute

@xcaptain-winterx

@namoreno

@sagebarness

@tenaciousathleteoperatorgarden

@unaxv

@missvelvetsstuff

@kjah97

@hopeful-daydreaming

@freshlemontea

@eat-limes-bitches

@kandis-mom

@scott-loki-barnes

@winters1917

@differenttyphoonwerewolf

@arunabraganza

@ordelixx

@vicmc624

@blackwood-bodecker-housewife

@mostlymarvelgirl

@musicandbooksaremyhappyplace

@buckybarnessimpp

@charmedbysarge

@almosttoopizza

@sapphirebarnes

@daddysfavoritesexkitten

@rebeccapineapple

@cjand10

@pigeonmama

@almosttoopizza

@thesarcasmqueen-22

@cakesandtom

@ficrecsbyellie

@reblogging-all-i-read

Author Note:

Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account. Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating. Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky barnes au #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky x you #buckybarnes #james bucky barnes #bucky x female!reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female!reader #the winter soldier #bucky barnes fandom #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky barns fanfiction #winter soldier #marvel x reader #marvel fanfic

[slowroadtosantiago]

Day 28 - Leon

We’ve been away 4 weeks now!

Today was a rest day for Jane. We’ve managed to extend our stay at the Airbnb for another couple of nights and will make a decision tomorrow night as to what we’ll do.

It was a lazy morning and I went up to meet Nicole for a coffee at 11. I took her to a cafe we used to go to that gave you a piece of cake with your coffee, yum!

We then went looking for some of my old haunts from last year, down to the Parador and the resting Pilgrim before briefly going over the bridge to see if I could get a glimpse of the school I taught in. Couldn’t see the school but did go down memory lane with the coffee shops.

I then took Nicole along the river walk and we eventually ended up back at the flat with Jane. She’d had a bath and was desperate to get out into some fresh air by then so we went for a soft drink in one of the cafes just around the corner in our local square.

Nicole disappeared and Jane and I stayed on to have lunch, two enormous tasty plates of salad.

It was siesta time so we chilled for an hour or two. I then walked up to town as I had booked a tour of the Gaudi house. Unfortunately the tour was in Spanish but they did have an English audio guide which was really good. It was an interesting place. Gaudi was commissioned by two merchants to build a house that was a shop underneath and apartments on top. He did it open plan which was pretty radical for the time.

The tour showed what the downstairs would have looked like, along with what an apartment would have looked like. The upper floors of the building were turned over to an art exhibition so there was a whole room of Dali’s which was interesting and the ugliest Mary Magdalene I have ever seen.

Jane was in town by the time I finished having been to the chemist for a very expensive tube of freezing gel, and after having a quick wander around the cathedral with Nicole.

After a bit of people watching (there was a group of people filming dance moves and acrobatics), we went down to our square to try out the other restaurant.

We shared some typical Spanish food - a plate of cured ham, a plate of delicious cheese, and some grilled veg.

We’re not sure if we’ll see Nicole again so after giving her some big hugs we’re back at the flat with a glass of wine. Jane has expertly wrapped up her ankle and we’ll see what tomorrow brings.

[australieh]

girl dinner

there's something about stonefruit. turns out all you have to do to find the beauty in the world again is cycle to the markets and buy a peach so ripe it mushes all up in your bag. while you're there, grab a glass of wine at the winery booth and a cone of gelato at the gelato booth. sit outside with your bulging bag of mushy stonefruit and lick your cone of melty gelato while your wine warms in the sun. read a book and contemplate going to see the new rom com at the movie theatre by yourself, but don't buy the ticket in case you get home and don't feel like biking against the wind to get there. in the moment, though, think about how nice it would be to put on a sweatshirt and buy a bag of popcorn and slurp up one of those giant diet cokes. remember being a teenager and going to the movies with your sister every weekend; eating so much sour candy you couldn't feel your tongue, and giggling for hours about nothing at all. think about what you would give right now to watch a movie at the north edmonton cineplex with your sister and drive your moms old minivan home.

when you get home, unload all the mushy stonefruit from the crocheted bag your mom made you when she visited last. chuck your favourite cutting board on the counter, the one that reminds you of the cutting boards your pepere used to make (specifically the one that sits in a box in your mom's spare room, patiently waiting with her for your return). chop up your freshly rinsed plums, nectarines and peaches- first up will be the black plums. don't let the first piece spend even a second on the cutting board. bring that gooey juicy mess right up to your lips! taste the sweet, summery freshness of it. let your mind flash to your mom handing you bowls of cut up stonefruit, each slice evenly cut. here, in your own kitchen, you cannot fathom how she cut them so perfectly. yours are a mess, all wonky and misshapen. smile to yourself and say out loud: "whatever! yum!!"

now, for dinner you'll eat your wonkily sliced up stonefruit and fresh, creamy marinated feta. the kind you could eat straight from the jar if that was the kind of thing people did. "What did you have for lunch, Beatrix?" "Oh, this delicious jar of marinated feta!" "Oh, how marvelous!" you've just watched Miss Potter and now your internal voice is a fancy british lady from the year 1900. british ladies probably didn't eat fancy cheese with rice cakes from the IGA, but I think they'd approve of a young woman watching her figure. or, in your case, a young woman who bloats for a week every time she eats bread. pish posh, same difference.

and so is the magic of stonefruit. a regular degular afternoon, uninspired but for the galing wind blowing the trees around in a cacophony of leaves-against-leaves. a girl attempts to find something to do in a beach town when the beach does not appeal to her, and is saved by the sweetness of a peach. until next time.

0 notes

[chocolatecakecas]

Okay it's like yes they are head over heels in love with each other, but they are also best friends. They went from eye fucking each other for extended periods of time in complete silence, to bickering like an old married couple. A 300 million year old warrior of God who's never experienced emotion or had an relationship with another being and a man who's never had a relationship with another person outside of his family, let alone an actual friend in his life, became best fucking friends. And they are each other's first best friend. Like they are family, Cas lives in their house, they have shared jokes and memories, they do dumb shit together, they watch movies together, they just hang out and do nothing sometimes, they know each other better than anyone, and they trust each other and they fucking love each other so fiercely. And it's like yes, Cas is the only thing in the universe that defied Chuck's narrative, because he loves Dean, but it's more than that, because like that's his fucking person. Dean is the person who understands Cas the most when nobody else does, the person he trusts, the person he talks to, the person he tells things he's never told another soul, and it's established that Cas is also that person for Dean.

They are each other's people. And they were both content to just stay best friends forever and never mention how they truly felt thinking their feelings were unrequited, because that's how important they are to each other.

#i'ts 3am and im literally unhinged and unzipped rn #like yk that one friend you have were its like yeah youre my person you get it where have you been like THATS what they are and being #in love with each other is an added fucking bonus #they are each others first best friend theyre in love but its deeper than that its more than that like theyre it for each other #destiel breakdown<3 #this is driving me insane is any of this coherent? bc im literally going feral rn #i am going to run full force at the wall #yum yum this glass is delicious would you like a piece?? #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #the greatest love story ever told #bec speaks #dean breakdown<3 #bec rambles about destiel #cas breakdown<3 #deancas #casdean #spn

[spice-chan]

Cure Me

King!singledad! Bakugo Katsuki x fem!reader

Prince Matsuki makes an interesting friend. he could have never foretold who she is to his father...

TW: curses, sickness

Thank you so much to @stargazingaloneatnight for sending this lovely request ! I totally got carried away though, so it’s going to have a second part. 

Thanks a lot to @patt-writes-stuff and @reddriot for being amazing beta readers !!

Wordcount: 4.4 K

..........................................

At the ripe age of 18, you were married off to the woodcutter in your village. 

You weren’t enthusiastic about it, but you didn’t dissent. After all, in a small village, all the people of close age were expected to marry eventually. It was either him, the farmer or the butcher. A prince isn’t going to come and sweep you off your feet.

You moved to the isolated cabin near the woods where your husband resided, and you lived there with him for a year. You wouldn’t exactly describe it as harmony, but it was peaceful enough for you to be content. He respected you and you respected him, but you yearned for something more.You yearned for love, for the overwhelming feeling that would envelope you whole, that would elicit shivers from your spine, and down to your very toes. 

But you had to get those foolish fantasies out of your head; after all, your husband was now all you had. Until you didn’t have him anymore. 

His body was found, squashed underneath a large tree that fell the wrong way. 

Guilt and loss reigned in your mind and heart. You wondered, should you have appreciated him more ? Should you have cherished the little moments instead of wishing for something better? 

It was a lonely existence for a while after that, until a red eyed, spikey haired little boy ventured to your isolated abode. 

………

Loneliness was a disease that feasted on your open wounds until they were gaping holes, bleeding and gushing, but you were unable to stitch them back together. Who wants to be lonely, truly? So all Bakugo did was cover the open wounds with his hand, growling protectively as he shielded himself. And he couldn’t stitch together the hole in his chest, even when his hand was stained red as evidence of his pain. 

He thought he loved her. He convinced himself he loved her. The only woman and person who seemingly managed to stand him and understand him. He tried so hard to be good to her. Tried to act better when he saw the gleam of judgement in her eyes. Only to wake up one day with a letter telling him “don’t look for me” and “I’ll be somewhere better. Away from you and that spawn. Good luck with him, though you’ll probably have enough soon and throw him somewhere far, the sound of his cries is annoying.” 

Him. 

She couldn’t bring herself to say her son’s name. 

It’s like he was a disposable piece of trash to her. Katsuki’s teeth gnashed whenever he remembered the way she spoke of her own son, his son. 

“DAD!” screamed a little boy, the carbon copy of his dad, running to his father's lap where he ducked down and hid between them. 

Bakugo growled playfully, bending his back to look at the excitable little boy, who held his finger to his lips. 

“What do you think you’re doing, squirt?” 

“I’m hiding from Shitty Maid.” 

Katsuki quirked his eyebrows at the foul language that came out of his son’s mouth, but his response never made the light of day as a flustered and heaving maid entered the dining chamber, her eyes frantically searching. 

“My king, I’m so sorry ! Have you seen Prince Matsuki come here ?” she questioned breathlessly, the prince having evidently tired her out. 

Bakugo clicked his teeth rather impertinently. “No, you shitty maid, I didn’t see him come here,” he replied and resumed eating, seemingly unperturbed by his son being ‘missing’. 

“Sorry, Your Majesty, I’ll resume my search for him. Sorry to have disturbed you!” she exclaimed before picking her gown and scrambling out. 

Bakugo stared beneath his chair pointedly, his carbon copy only giving doe eyes as a reply. 

“Why are you hiding anyway?!”

Matsuki crawled out from underneath the chair and stood up, dusting his knees. 

“She wants to teach me eti-etiquette or whatever,” Matsuki grumbled. “I’m going out to play with my friends.” 

Etiquette? How useless. Is that what they are teaching his son? 

Bakugo clapped his back, glad to see his son not be a pushover. “Don’t be late, squirt.”

“Ok, dad!” Matsuki jumped and enveloped Katsuki’s muscular frame in a hug with his tiny arms, warming Katsuki’s heart as he ruffled his son’s spiky hair. 

……..

Matsuki couldn’t find his friends. 

He ventured into the woods in search of them, sporting a scowl everyone should be familiar with. His tiny, handsome face scrunched slightly as he looked around the place curiously. His feet padded on, scrunching on crispy fallen leaves in their wake. 

He walked for a while, marking trees as he went along to ensure he didn’t get lost, but eventually, a sugary sweet scent had his tiny legs move faster on their own accord in search of it. The closer he seemingly got, the more powerfully the mouth watering scent assaulted his nose. It smelled cozy on this chilly day, like a warm cup of milk by a warm fire as snow fell outside.

He reached a clearing. The thick, intimidating trees that loomed over him shrunk away until there was none left. 

No trees, but he found a small cabin with a window cracked open. 

He boldly marched up to it, his mouth set in a straight, determined line. A fisted palm knocked once, twice, and thrice on the worn out wood, to ensure that it was heard. 

His nervousness set in when the handle turned and a lady emerged at the threshold. He steeled himself. His daddy told him that if he wanted something, he should work to get it. 

You smiled at him warmly when you spotted him: a young, unfamiliar boy. He looked out of his element, but his strange red eyes stared at you despite how he seemed to be unused to such situations. His eyes reflected the embers of a brave soul. 

“There was a nice smell coming from here,” he admitted, his tiny face scrunching into a scowl that seemed more adorable than anything.

“Well, yes, I baked cookies,” you responded mildly, your voice never too high but quite clear. The boy’s eyes widened, his red hues glistening in child-like excitement.

“Cookies?!”  He jumped, and clutched your gown. 

“Can I have some ?” Puppy dog eyes stared up at you, pleading and cute. You haven’t encountered a child in a long time. You stopped going to the village as often, and eventually, they stopped visiting too. Your mother died after she contracted something, her old body unable to fight it off, and your dad ran off somewhere to ‘adventure’. 

“Sure.” You moved from the threshold. “Come in.” You gestured with your head to your small cottage, a humble place, but a reminder of your lonesome existence. 

He brightened up considerably, his mouth twisting into a sweet smile. He would become such a handsome young man once he grew up. It made you wonder how beautiful his parents must be. 

You pulled a chair for him at the table, and went to put some cookies on a plate for him. 

“YUM. That’s so delicious!” He spoke between mouthfuls, some tiny crumbs flying out of his mouth in his excitement. 

“Thank you, but be careful. You might choke if you speak while chewing sweetie,” you chided him lightly. Matsuki didn’t recognize this tone, it sounded equal parts stern and caring. He nodded and continued munching down. 

“Would you like to drink something? I have some orange juice, and uh, water. I could make tea, but I don’t think kids your age fancy that you rambled, suddenly excited about having someone keep you company for the first time in a while. 

He opened his mouth to answer, but upon remembering your words, he opted to chew for a few more seconds then swallowing his cookies before bellowing out,“Yes! Orange juice.” 

How adorable. 

You poured two glasses of orange juice and joined your little companion, munching on some cookies of your own. Before long, he finished all of them and leaned back on the chair, mouth letting out a sigh and hand patting his stomach as a show of overindulgence. 

“Good?” 

“Yup! You’re a very nice lady. Way nicer than my dummy maid,” he grumbled, you weren’t sure whether to be flattered or concerned, but one thing did grab your attention. 

“Maid ?” 

He nodded, slightly confused at your question. 

“Don’t you have one ?” You quirked an eyebrow and looked around your tiny cottage. Did it look like you have one? 

Oh God, you hoped this boy wasn’t mistaking his mother for a maid. With that in mind, you asked him, however, his face fell in sadness and the fire in his eyes dulled a little. 

“I don’t have a mother. The maids always talk about how sorry they are for me. I hate it. None of them even care about me,” he spoke in a quiet voice, tearing at your heart with his down turned face. 

“But at least I have my daddy,” he spoke up, brightening a little. You smiled at that, reaching towards him and ruffling his fluffy yet spikey blond hair. 

“That’s good. Keep cherishing your father, at least the two of you have each other.” You wiped some crumbs from around his mouth with a napkin, speaking to the boy in a lonesome voice; unintentionally mothering him. 

He smiled and nodded;unintentionally accepting. 

The boy was either mistaking some people in his household for maids, or he was some rich merchant’s son. On that note—

“Did you tell anyone you’re coming here? They might be worried about you,” you asked cautiously, but then your eyes widened as a new wave of worry hit you. 

“Oh my God, what if you got lost? Do you know your way back?” 

You sighed in relief when he nodded, flashing you a smile with his teeth on display, one of them missing from the front, making it all the more endearing. You narrowed your eyes at him, prompting him to elaborate. 

“I always come to play around here with my friends. It’s really close to home!” You oo’d. However, it was now his turn to panic. “Oh no, I forgot all about them !” He looked outside, seeing the sun shining proudly in the centre of the sky. 

“I think I can still catch them,” he declared determinedly, and hopped off his seat. His tiny legs carried him to the door, his pale hand grasping the worn down doorknob, but before twisting it, he turned to you, his smile of youth gracing his face again. 

“See you later, nice lad !”

.……..……

“No way! You wanted to be a pirate? But they’re so nasty!” he exclaimed, scrunching his nose at you in disgust. You shrugged, shoulders slumped. 

“I thought it’d be a fun time. I found it in a book and dreamed that one day, I too can embark on an adventure and find hidden treasures,”you explained with a dreamy, yet nostalgic look in your eyes, akin to one looking back fondly at a long gone memory. It’s been nearly a year since you met the mystery child. You’ve been...noticeably happier. 

His cherry red orbs made your day, along with an innocence that was very hard to maintain in these tough times, although that's probably because his toughness differs from yours. 

He pouted, running a hand through his tamed locks. “Well, why can’t you?” 

He stared up at you expectantly, oblivious to what he was expecting. His red orbs burwith ith the flame of innocenand and didnuldn’t dare blow it out. 

“I don’t know.” 

Even for his young age, he was perceptive. Bbut before he could question your downtrodden face, you stood up, coughing loudly. It went on for a few seconds, and Matsuki watched worriedly as you cupped your hand over your mouth, shoulders shaking from the force. 

After you stopped, you breathed for a few seconds, face flushed and stamina depleted. But again, before he could question anything, you stood up, stretching. The sun hit your face, which looked noticeably paler, but you forced a smile anyway, and held your hand out for Matsuki to grab and follow suit. 

“Let’s go inside, you wanted me to redo your hair, right ?” He grabbed your hand with renewed vigor, hopping off the wood and trekking with you back inside the cottage. 

He said his maid had to slick his hair back because they had guests over and he ‘had to look more presentable’, which you internally scoffed at. His hair was amazing as it was. 

You’d never seen a texture so amazing. It was soft as silk, but it appeared spikey. Like a porcupine or something, looked thorny but had a soft side? 

You brought some water and wet his hair, before drying it with a towel. You could already see some results. You brought a hairbrush and began to hum softly while brushing his semi dry blond locks. 

You towelled it once again, before patting him across the back. Your head felt light, and a light pain began to creep in. You probably need some water. 

“THANK YOU! It was so ugly before.” He pranced about, happy that his hair no longer looked like some ‘sappy extra’. You wonder where the child got those interesting phrases. You stood up to get a glass of water, but the moment you stood up, the world swirled, spinned, and blurred. And then it all faded to black. 

You hit the floor with a loud thump, and Matsuki sprung to his feet and frantically ran to your side. 

His small hands grabbed your arm and shook you, his face growing warm and throat getting clogged up, before tears burst forth. They dampened your sleeves, continuously flowing like a waterfall, but you still remained almost lifeless on the floor. Matsuki was young, helpless, and alone. 

And he did what any young, helpless and crying child would do. 

He ran to the person he loves —his father. 

……………

Bakugou heard the sound of Matsuki running before h, felt the wind, tornado like, as the doors of his room were pushed open in a manner so excitable he’d consider it rather insolent had it not been his own son. 

 His reprimands were stuck in his throat when he saw the flushed face and bloodshot eyes of his shis heart aching at the sight. 

“What’s wongh” he asked softly, the tone rather unusual coming from him. Then again, his son coming to him crying was something very rare.oo., Matsuki took after his  and and he was a very brave and strong boy. Something that Bakugou lamented about, at times. Being his carbon copy wasn’t that much of a blessing when it came to the matters of the heart. 

Matsuki found his dad sitting at his desk, he ran to him and clung to his legs, crying uncontrollably. 

It took Bakugou a second to overcome his awkwardness and emotional constipation. He scooped his son up and sat him on his lap, wiping his tears away. 

“Hey squirt, calm down and tell me what’s wrong. If it’s someone that upset you, God help them-” 

Matsuki tried to halt his hiccups, failing for a few seconds while he hugged his dad, he patted his back comfortingly. 

“Dad, my friend…” he began, but his eyes watered as a fresh batch of tears threatened to burst. 

“What happened to your friend, Matsuki?” 

Matsuki sniffled, wiping his eyes before continuing. 

“So, she’d been sick for a few weeks, but today when I visited her, she fell and wouldn’t wake up,” Matsuk explainedd, clutching into Bakugou tightly. 

Bakugou hummed, nodding solemnly. 

“Can you take me where your friend is?” 

Matsuki nodded, but Katsuki was dubious about the nature of this pursuit. His distrustful nature was shining through.If this ‘friend’ was outside the protective barrier, then Katsuki didn’t know what to really expect. So before leaving his room, he donned his protective amber around his neck, a magical jewel chosen by his dragon when he was younger. All shifters choose an enchanted jewel to guard their existence and warn them of dangers. He made sure to pick up his son’s, looping the necklace around his neck, the jewel dangling and shining. 

He needed to give his son a talk about this. 

…………

They walked in the forest for a while before reaching a small, worn out looking cottage. Bakugou arched a blond eyebrow, more curious than ever. He’d think it was a ploy with more sinister intentions, luring both prince and king but… he’d never seen his son more shook up over someone, they must mean a lot to him. He couldn’t bear to delay this. 

They reached the door, the wood creaking as Bakugo opened it. His ruby eyes started searching for you, and when they caught your figure on the floor, they began gleaming. 

He felt the breath knocked out of him when he saw you, asleep (he hoped) like an angel with your hair looking wild but still adding to your charm like a halo. You looked so soft, so precious, and it felt like his life only began this moment when he caught sight of you. 

His heartbeat was so strong, he could feel it in his very eyes, who were overwhelmed with the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. He had seen plenty of beautiful women, ones he didn’t spare a second glance at, extras, unworthy of his time. But for some reason, the beauty of you rooted him in his spot and halted all rational thoughts. He was only broken out of his reverie when Matsuki shook him. He felt a rush of love, devotion, and ease like he’d never felt before. It all made sense, the sense of loneliness, of being lost when his path is clear in front of him. Of finding every potential romantic partner lukewarm at best. 

“Dad. Can you help her ? I don’t want her to be sick anymore.”

And in that moment, it dawned on him. 

Katsuki found his soulmate, but there’s a chance he might have already lost her. 

He ran to you checking your vitals, and thankfully, everything seemed fine. He put his forehead against yours, cursing when he felt a scalding fever. 

“What happened ?” He picked one of the numerous questions buzzing in his head. 

“Well, she did my hair like I’d asked her, but the moment she stood up, she fell down! I tried waking her up, but she wouldn’t. She’d been coughing a lot the past few weeks too and looking tired,” Matsuki explained clearly, now comforted by having his father share the weight with him. 

Katsuki looked around at the rather shabby place. Fit for a commoner. Not you. 

He was baffled at having a mate. Only the most legendary, wise and favoured dragons did, the dragons that made it to history scriptures. Things no one considered him to be. Things he was succumbing to not being. Things she convinced him he wasn’t. Sure, he could fight deadly wars, bring nations down to their knees, but violence did not warrant a soulmate. 

He scoop you up, closer to his chest. Heyouyou tightly, heart physically hurting at the thought of you being in pain. He just met you, what’s with him ? 

He stood up, nudging his son to leave. 

What a coincidence. An insane, crazy coincidence. 

His son, his only blessing in this shrouded world, was what led him to the one thing nobody thought he’d have. 

“Tell me more on the way.

Matsuki nodded. 

……………

Bakugou laid you on his bed, surrounding you with the softest materials one could ever touch. He pulled a chair besides you, lounging on it as he waited for a healer to arrive. 

You remained unconscious, but it seems like your temperature increased even more. He was so lost in his own thoughts, that he didn’t register that Matsuki walked inside the room until he was addressing him. 

“Is she going to be alright ?” Bakugou didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth, then again, he didn’t have the heart to lie to him either. 

“I don’t know.” Somehow saying it out loud hurts even more. 

A knock on the door broke the gloominess. 

“Come in.” 

Hope walked in, in the shape of a short, old lady with medical equipment. 

Recovery Girl inspected you, from temperature to heartbeat. And when done, she sighed. 

“Everything boils down to it being a simple fever, but in that case, she wouldn’t be unconscious,” she explained ambiguously. She took one of your hands, and andr fingertips were icy cold. 

She hummed contemplatively. She brought out a healing crystal, squeezing it in one fist, while she held your hand in the other. The idea was to transfer the healing energy from the crystal to you, only possible through a healing mage. 

However, when nothing seemed to happen, Recovery Girl opened her fist. She found a shattered crystal. 

“Oh my…” 

Bakugou growled, frustration willing up and tipping over. “The fuck!” 

Recovery Girl glared at him. Such language shouldn’t be used in front of a child. 

“Typical healing methods aren’t going to work.” 

Silence reigned over this time, willing the old lady to continue on, both his and his son’s hearts on the edge. 

“I believe she’d been cursed.” 

Bakugou scrunched up his eyebrows at the absurd explanation. Who’d curse you of all people ? He only just discovered your existence!

Yet for some reason, he felt like he’d rather die than let you, the one who could love him for all his flaws, the one who always brought a smile on his son’s face, suffer. 

“How?” The deity up there must be very cruel, to take you away when he just met you. 

“I don’t know, son. There’s a very strong, malevolent energy, enough to break a healing crystal. It’s going to make her body reject anything that could heal it,” she explained solemnly. 

“If you want this young lady healthy and well, we need to take different measures to heal her. Also, do you know who cursed, or where she could have incurred it? That will be very helpful.” 

Bakugou looked at Matsuki, knowing that he himself is clueless. 

“This is the first time I met her. Matsuki seems to have met her a while ago in her tiny ass cottage outside the protective barrier.” She looked like she had some questions, but instead directed her attention to the little Bakugou and asked him what matters most right now. 

“Do you know anyone that might’ve done this? Have you seen her interact with anyone that could possibly be capable of it?” She knew asking a child would likely be more fruitless then not, but she still wished to help you in any way she could. 

Matsuki shook his head. 

“I’ve never even seen her talk with anyone.” This only served to increase Bakugou’s suspensions. Could it be something to do with your affiliation with Matsuki ? And if that was the case, then there’s so many other things he must take into account too, because that would mean that there’s a traitor in their midst, or at least someone that had been tracking Matsuki for… what fucking ever reason. 

He sighed, feeling an ache beginning to form in his head. He touched your arm, wanting to reassure himself that you are alive. 

A gasp rang out from the occupants of the room when you opened your eyes, making them seem glowy when the sunlight reflected off them, giving you an ethereal, angelic radiance. 

The air left his lungs, while blood rushed to his cheeks, making them seem ripe as apples. 

“How is this possible?” 

This shocked him awake, out of his reverie and into reality. 

Recovery Girl glanced at the arm Bakugo was touching, humming to herself with a knowing glint in her old, wise eyes. 

“Well, my king, did you forget? The oldest, most powerful magic that dragons have been gifted::soulmates.” 

Bakugo blushed again, kissing his teeth and glaring at Recovery Girl. 

“What are you babbling on about, old hag?” 

“I believe you know.” 

He glared at the ground, childishly not answering. 

“Um...what’s going on?” A small, feminine voice asked. Bakugou turned to you, melting at the majestic sound of your voice. 

“That’s a good question.” That brat. 

Bakugou tried to stay in contact with you, afraid of making the burst of magic triggered by your bond slipping away. 

“Uh, you lost unconsciousness and Matsuki asked me to help you. Oh, and apparently you were cursed.” Bakugou bluntly spits the facts at you, not thinking ahead for your reaction. 

“A CURSE?” you shouted, coughing after due to hoarseness. The old hag shot Bakugou another glare, before sweetening up and looking at you. 

“We’ll explain after you rest a bit and freshen up, you’d been through quite a bit.” she said, deliberately not divulging any information yet. She didn’t need to be there for the grand explanation. She’d rather not be, actually. 

She stood on her weary legs, leaving the room unnoticed as you admired your surroundings, and as Bakugou admired you. Matsuki’s stare lacked the burn of fascination as he stared at his father grumpily. 

“The fuck you looking at her so weird for?” Matsuki seethed. You gasped and turned to him. 

“Matsuki!” He bristled in frustration, having forgotten how much you hated it when he cursed. 

“Sorry. He was though!” 

Bakugou, throughout the whole thing, glared at his son with blushing cheeks. He wanted to spank some respect into him so bad right now. 

You turned to Bakugo, gaze weighty in the seriousness it’s burdened with. 

“Thanks for helping me, I appreciate it. You’re Matsuki’s father, right? The resemblance is hard to miss. Well, I have a lot of questions, but firstly, what do you mean by cursed?” 

You felt as if a rock was pressed against your chest, gloom overtaking your features as you awaited his answer. Still hopeful that it was a joke, but the ancient dark magic was not to be joked with. 

“Someone cursed you. It’s the cause for your sickness, and it’s slowly sapping the life out of you. You’re only awake because uh...the magic of our bond is more powerful.” Bakugou rushed the last part, his heart beating, squeezing painfully when silence hung in the air after his not so confession. 

You purse your lips, the movement catching Bakugo’s attention, drawing him to your lips. Supple, kissable lips. 

“Our bond?” 

Bakugo nodded. 

“You’re my soulmate, it’s why—probably why Matsuki was so drawn to you.” Bakugo was looking forward to explaining more, before his door was busted open (a common occurrence these days it seems) by a panting soldier, who summoned the strength to salute stiffly. 

“Your majesty, we have received a letter from Celeane Siloh.” 

Well, what a great introduction to the family. 

...............

Kofi

Don’t forget to like and reblog if you enjoyed this !

#bakugou x reader #bakugo #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki imagine #bakugou katsuki fanfics #bakugou katuski x reader #bnha fanfiction #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou fanfiction #mha bakugou #fantasy bnha #fantasy!bnha #dragon king bakugou #dragon!bakugou #single dad bakugou #katsuki bakugou fluff #katsuki bakugo

[vennilavee]

doubles

pairing: levi x reader, ft baby kaiya (moon/stars universe) summary: it’s kaiya and levi’s birthday. and you have a proposition for levi. warnings: some suggestive themes (kissing, nudity, the use of the word daddy) but it’s very brief a/n: i struggle with writing holiday themed things so this is the closest i could come up with. enjoy and happy holidays :))

Kaiya’s birthday being two days before Levi’s birthday was both a blessing and a curse. A blessing because she loved sharing her special day with Levi, and a curse because it hardly gave you time to think about what to get Levi for his own birthday. And not to mention that their birthdays were both right in the middle of the holidays.

Every year since Kaiya was born, you and Levi at least put some multicolored lights around the house, spent a weekend decorating stockings to put over the mantle of the fireplace, and spent another weekend stringing lights up outside. You had even bought a five foot tall light up snowman for the front yard, which Kaiya had loved. She had nearly fallen over when she had seen it for the first time, and then immediately tried to hug it.

And Levi glared at it whenever he pulled out of the driveway. 

Even when it was just you and Levi, you’d both put some lights up around your previous apartment. That didn’t mean that Levi didn’t grumble about it the whole time.

For Kaiya’s third birthday this year, you had decided to combine her birthday party with a dinner for Levi over the weekend. And it worked out- Kaiya adores her father, and she had squealed when you asked if she would be okay with it. Levi had protested, not wanting to do anything for his birthday and wanted to give his baby the spotlight. It’s her third birthday, after all. His baby girl’s third birthday. But he had relented when Kaiya looked at him with tear filled eyes and her hands clasped together in pleading-

“Pwease, daddy! I wanna hab birfday wif daddy!”

And really, how could he ever say no to that? So you put Levi to work, asking him to pick up some gold and green glittery streamers the week before and some helium balloons the day of. Kaiya is with Erwin while you run around to pick up a cake and other last minute things. 

Kaiya had wanted a tea party with some of her toddler friends from the neighborhood park for her third birthday and if that doesn’t solidify that she’s Levi’s daughter, you don’t know what does. Her favorite colors right now were greens and yellows, and so that’s how the color scheme of the party goes. But you subtly include bits and pieces of Levi’s personality in there as well- with a silver birthday hat that you had bought specially for him and with his matte black teacup with his name engraved in gold lettering. 

She’s wearing a cute green glittery headband in her dark hair, black pants and a yellow long sleeve shirt with a big, glittery sunflower on it. 

She’s sunshine personified, Levi thinks. He matches her, with a dark green shirt and Kaiya gasps when you whisper to her that her daddy matched her-

“We gween!” Kaiya exclaims happily.

“We have the same birthdays, princess. Of course daddy will match you,” Levi murmurs, taking her in his arms and kissing her cheek.

It’s funny- Levi hardly ever graced you with public displays of affection and vice versa. But when Kaiya came along, he’s become a little more fond of little pecks and soft displays of affection. Kaiya eats it up, with big eyes.

His eyes. Her eyes are so inexplicably a reflection of his. 

“Gween nice, daddy,” Kaiya says, squeezing her Totoro stuffed toy close to her chest.

“It is nice,” Levi agrees, “What else is green the color of?”

“Umm… sky!” Kaiya shouts confidently.

“Good job, princess,” Levi murmurs, gracing her with another kiss to the cheek.

It makes you soft. Watching him carry her to her tea party with her party of three. Her two friends are seated in plastic blue chairs around the play table, while their parents linger with snacks in their hands.

You could combust, watching Levi take a seat on the small plastic chair and tipping his head so Kaiya can place a tiara on his hair. He only gives the kids a soft look, letting them fawn over him. Kaiya’s friends each pour Levi some imaginary tea from the teapot and with soft, toothy grins, “Happy birfday Uncle Levi.”

You take a video and pictures of him to save for later.

Some snow still remains on the grass from a previous snowfall, covering your front and backyard in a pretty coat of paper white magic. Of course, by the time Kaiya’s friends leave and your friends arrive for dinner, Kaiya is asking to build a snowman and make snow angels.

Levi bribes her with cookies to get her to stay inside with him. She had only just gotten over a terrible cold last week and the last thing anyone needed was for her to get sick. Kaiya sits on Erwin’s lap, listening intently to a story he’s telling her about a space princess. Erwin feeds her half of a cookie and she wordlessly chews on it with wide, curious eyes.

You had cut a small cake for Kaiya with her friends and had gotten a bigger cake for both Levi and Kaiya to cut together. It’s a lemon cheesecake and you know both father and daughter will love it. Neither of them have a terribly fond sweet tooth, but this cake is just the right amount of sweet.

After all, you had baked it.

When dinner is over and you’ve refilled glasses of spiced wine for everyone, you bring out the cake with a hearty start of singing ‘Happy Birthday’. Everyone chimes in, Hange with her arms around your shoulders and Kaiya beaming happily. She reaches for Levi and pats his cheek, as if to say ‘pay attention’.

“Hap birfday, daddy,” Kaiya whispers shyly.

“Happy birthday, Kai,” Levi murmurs and pats her forehead fondly. Levi moves to stand next to you and lets Kaiya blow out the candles for him. Levi holds his hand above yours as you cut a slice of cake into sections to feed to both him and Kaiya.

“When did you make this?” Levi asks.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, birthday boy,” You tease and feed Kaiya the first piece of cake. She gasps and claps her hands enthusiastically.

“Mommy, it yum,” Kaiya giggles. You kiss her cheek and wipe away some stray cream. 

“Wanna feed daddy, Kiki?” 

Kaiya nods and you help guide the fork to Levi’s mouth. “Thanks, Kai,” Levi says, “Can I feed you?” With another nod, Levi gives Kaiya a small bite. Not wanting to have a sugar rush later in the evening. And finally, you feed Levi a piece of cake, smiling at Erwin when he tells you all to look at him for a photo.

You’re tempted to smear some cake on Levi’s cheek, just to irritate him but you ultimately decide against it. After all, you have something you want to say to him later.

“Hey,” You murmur with a grin, “Happy birthday, my love.”

The tips of his ears tint pink and you pat his cheek before cutting more slices for everyone to have. Mike helps you pass out slices to everyone and you smile at him in thanks.

After everyone has had their fill of wine and cake, everyone begins to yawn and Kaiya even falls asleep in Erwin’s arms. It starts to flurry as well, light specks of white dotting the still air.

Your guests begin to leave after helping you clean up and after you give them leftovers to take home. After the hugs, happy birthdays, and promises that they’ll text you when they get home, Levi swiftly pulls you into his arms for a deep kiss, your knees buckling immediately.

“Is it my birthday?” You ask slyly, “You only kiss me like that when it’s my birthday.”

“That’s a fuckin’ lie,” Levi rolls his eyes.

“Yeah,” You say dreamily, “It is. You wanna go to bed or have another glass of wine?”

Levi wordlessly pulls you into the bedroom after making sure Kaiya is asleep, dropping kisses up and down your neck. His lips muffle your soft sounds, his hands gripping the curve of your hips and sliding down to your ass. He undresses you easily, peeling you out of your blouse and unbuttons your jeans. 

You’re in no rush. You only press against him, hands traveling the expanse of his broad chest and squeezing lightly.

“I wanna tell you something,” You mumble weakly, lips deliciously close to his ear.

He hums in response, pulling away to look you in the eyes. A hand comes to rest against your cheek, thumb caressing your cheekbone.

“I love you,” You say earnestly, “But also. I want another kid. I wanna give Kai a sibling. I wanna make you a daddy again. Wanna give me a baby, daddy?”

Levi rolls his eyes at your use of the word, swatting your ass lightly. “Kaiya would be a good big sister. And… I’ve been thinking about it, too.”

“Why didn’t either of us say anything then?”

“The idea was marinating-”

“Marinating? Don’t say that the idea of a second baby was marinating like meat in the fridge,” You joke, swatting his chest, “I was trying to be cute, by telling you on your birthday celebration. And you just compared our second baby to marinade-”

“I wanna make us parents again,” Levi whispers, cutting you off, “Want some of my marinade?”

“Do I ever,” You grin, licking a stripe up his neck, “So a second kid? You ready for it?”

“Are you ready for it? Are we ready for it?”

“I’m ready if it’s with you, my love,” You say softly, with a smile, “I’m ready for anything if it’s with you.”

tags: @simpingmaize​ @captainchrisstan​ @alrightberries​

#levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi x you #levi ackerman x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader

[bellakitse]

Cooking with Friends 

for @madamewriterofwrongs​ 

(inspired by the bts pic of the trio at Carlos’ place)

“Do you need any help?”

Carlos Reyes looks up from the fish pieces he’s frying to find Marjan looking at him curiously, a glass of the sparkling grape juice he’s taken to having in stock since he and TK officially started dating in her hand.

There is lively laughter and conversation behind them as his boyfriend entertains his other two crew members, Paul and Mateo.

“Sure,” he starts with a smile, getting one back from the girl TK is so fond of. “Can you chop that?” he asks as he points at the herbs on the cutting board. “The rice is almost done and ready for it.”

“Cilantro lime rice?” she questions, placing her glass down to wash her hands before she picks up a knife.

“Mmhmm,” he nods, taking out some finished pieces of fish, placing them on a paper towel to soak up the extra oil.

“And Baja tacos, yum,” Marjan continues, nodding towards the fresh tortillas he’s placed on the dishes before adding the fish.

“With a chickenless southwest salad,” he finishes for her, raising an eyebrow when she chuckles. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, nothing,” she says quickly, grin still firmly in place on her pretty face. “It’s just that TK is a shit cook. He gets out of it at work by trading the chore with Paul when it’s his turn, and now he has a boyfriend who is also awesome at cooking, so he doesn’t have to do it when he’s off shift either. It’s kind of hilarious.”

Carlos chuckles at her observation; she’s not wrong. TK has many talents he’s come to learn about in the weeks since they’ve gotten serious. Talents and habits Carlos either finds adorable or hot beyond belief. But his boyfriend is simply not cooking-compatible and would live off takeout and cereal if left up to his own devices.

“He’s only with me for my cooking,” he jokes with a grin, raising an eyebrow when Marjan snorts.

“Yeah, no,” She corrects him. She points at the pot of rice that now sits off the stove; when he nods at her, she starts to fluff the rice with a fork a few times before pouring the lime juice he’d squeezed earlier. “Trust me, if you heard the way he rambles on about you, you would know that while he does mention your cooking, is just one of the million things he goes on and on about when he brings you up.”

Marjan gives him a pointed look. “Which is all the time.”

Carlos feels his face go hot, and he knows it has nothing to do with having been in the kitchen for the last hour cooking. “He does not talk about me all the time,” he replies with conviction for a moment before continuing, hesitant. “Does he?”

“We can bring Mateo and Paul into this conversation if you’d like; they’ll back me up,” Marjan answers, opening her mouth again to call for their friends.

“No, that won’t be necessary,” he hisses quickly, shooting her a look when she smirks. “You just want to embarrass TK,” he continues with gentle reproach, knowing she doesn’t mean it with malice. Teasing, he’s learned, is the way Marjan and TK show affection towards each other.

Marjan’s smile grows even wider, proving his observation correct.

Carlos shakes his head. “Troublemaker,” he tells her, unable to hide his fondness for her as she throws him a wink. “Here, take these plates to the table.”

Marjan rolls her eyes at him jokingly but does what he says. He calls out to the rest of the guests, calling them to the table as he readies the other plates. Mateo and Paul take their seats along with Marjan, while TK comes to meet him in the kitchen, taking a plate from him.

“This all looks and smells delicious, baby,” TK tells him with a sweet, happy smile on his face. He’s been grinning like this for the last three days since Carlos agreed to host this little get together. The bashful look on TK’s face when he asked him if it would be okay to invite the trio over, and the smile that followed when Carlos said yes, still tugs at his heartstrings. Carlos would do anything to keep that smile on TK’s face.

“Hopefully, it tastes delicious too,” he answers, chuckling when it makes TK roll his eyes.

“When have you ever made something that isn’t delicious?” TK questions teasingly.

“I made a beef wellington so bad once that it would have sent Gordon Ramsay into a rage,” he answers, cringing as he remembers that particular culinary fail.

Gordan Ramsay is always in a rage,” TK answers, eyes crinkling at the corners as he grins. “That’s his shtick, babe.”

“Cute,” Carlos mutters dryly, causing TK to light up.

“I’m glad you think so,” TK answers, turning sideways to keep the plates out of the way as he leans into Carlos’ space.

Carlos tries not to react, but it’s impossible when his boyfriend is this close, his lovely pouty mouth inches from his. He closes the small gap, his stomach doing a somersault as TK’s eyes flutter shut a second before Carlos covers that gorgeous mouth with his. His body sings at the soft sigh TK lets out as he kisses him gently. He can feel himself starting to get lost in the kiss when a loud whistle startles them both. Turning his head towards the table, he sees Paul pulling his hand away from his mouth.

“Yeah, we get it, you’re in love,” he says with a sarcastic roll of his eyes. “But we’re waiting and hungry.”

Carlos feels his face go red once more, his heart racing at Paul’s words, but TK, instead, just laughs joyfully.

“No need to be jealous of me and my gorgeous man, Strickland,” TK teases his friend as they come to sit at the table, passing the last of the plates around.

Paul narrows his eyes at TK, but Carlos can see the hint of a smile on the curve of his mouth. “Love makes you obnoxious, brother,” he tells him, wreaking havoc with Carlos’ insides as he casually drops the word love around once more.

“Maybe,” TK agrees easily as he starts to dig into his salad. “But it’s doing amazing things to my complexion, don’t you think?” he asks, batting his eyelashes aggressively at Paul.

Paul rolls his eyes while Marjan and Mateo exchange a grin, obviously used to this simple ribbing between all of them. It makes Carlos happy to witness it, and hopefully, be part of it.

“Okay, you two can continue,” Mateo waves in their direction. “But I’m eating, this smells really good, and I have been living off pop tarts I found in the back of my cupboards for the last week. Pretty sure they were expired.”

Marjan raises an eyebrow at the man next to her, judgingly, before turning back towards the rest of them. “Gee, why can’t probie get a girl?” she asks, drawing a pout from Mateo and laughter from the rest of the table.

Carlos joins into their easy camaraderie, teasing and sharing with the group as they eat. Halfway through the meal, when the trio is busy recalling an incident earlier in the week, TK leans in close to him.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, his green eyes soft as he smiles at him shyly. He shrugs when Carlos gives him a questioning look back. “My ex never cared about getting to know my crew, and he sure as hell never made them an amazing dinner to get to know them better. This means a lot to me – ” TK pauses, looking over at his friends, all smiling and enjoying themselves. “They’re – “

“Your family,” Carlos finishes for him. TK looks back at him, eyes now shining, pleased that Carlos gets it. He nods back at him. “Then they’re my family too, Ty.”

TK lets out a soft sound, another beautiful smile on his face. He leans in further, pressing his forehead to Carlos’ temple gently. “You’re my family too, baby,” he whispers, lips brushing over Carlos’ cheek.

Carlos exhales, a little shaky, his heart thundering at TK’s words and the meaning behind them. “And you’re mine.”

#911 lone star #tarlos #911 lone star fic #tarlos fic #my writing #stef's flash fiction friday #tk x carlos #hopefully this one shows up on the tags this time

[jobean12-blog]

Top Shelf: Chapter 18- Inscribed with Love (and a sprinkle of Sugar)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (Bookshop/Bartender/Baking AU)

Word Count: 1,946

Summary: The bookshop is doing great and your exhausted from it all, but ready to take the next step. 

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! Hope you’re all doing wonderfully! So I think there will only be two more chapters left. I can’t believe it and I cannot thank you enough for your continued love and support. You’re the reason I keep this up. The restaurant they go to in this chapter is called Tia Pol (so yum) and you can check it out here. Thank you all for reading! Much love always ❤❤❤

Warnings: Soft fluffy, happy fluff, exciting news and events, lots of yay :)

Top Shelf Masterlist 

Bucky gives you one last glance before he walks toward the door, smiling at the crowd while he unlocks it. A loud cheer erupts from outside and you squeal at your position behind the counter. Everyone files in, the happy exclamations over the new space ringing out over the noise of footsteps. Nat and Peggy make a beeline for you, jumping up and down and talking a mile a minute. They’ve seen the space throughout the renovations, but you didn’t let anyone see the final product until now.

You see Grandma Betty pull Bucky down for a hug. They embrace for a long time and when she releases him, he wipes at his eyes while she blots her own with a tissue. At the same time, they turn and look your way, smiling brightly as you wave. Bucky brings her to you and then walks back to the door to greet some newcomers.

She reaches over the counter and takes your hands, “this is more than I ever could have hoped for. “It’s so beautiful. I’m so proud of you both and so very happy. James would be in love.” The tears that threatened to fall only moments ago are now running hot down your cheeks. You hastily wipe them away and lean over to hug her. “Thank you. Nothing makes me happier than to know you’re happy.”

Gently patting your back, she releases you, holding her hand over your cheek. “Ok, now that we’ve had a good cry, let’s eat!” With a twinkle in your eye you take a plate and put a piece of everything you have on it. “Let me know what you think about all of it. I need to know what’s good enough to keep!” She shuffles off with a full plate and happy smile and you look up to see a grinning Steve and Sam.

“Hey guys! What can I getcha?!” Sam’s eyebrow shoots up and he checks out the display. Steve slaps his shoulder and says, “one of everything of course!” Sam pipes up quick, “make that two!” You fill their plates and yell at them to share with Nat and Peggy as they walk away. The rest of the day goes by in a flash, a steady stream of customers coming in the whole time.

Tony stops in at the end of the day and from the look on his face you can tell he’s happy. “Well, look at you kids! The desserts are almost gone, most tables are full and you both look exhausted. Successful first day I take it?” You lean your head on Bucky’s shoulder and deflate, “you can say that again. I saved you some goodies!”

Handing him the plate you follow him to one of the few empty seats and take a small break. It isn’t long before Bucky has to make some more coffee and you have a couple asking for some pumpkin bread to go. Tony finishes his dessert and praises your baking before heading out, promising to come back with Pepper later in the week.

When Bucky finally turns the open sign over to closed it’s after 8pm and you’re dead on your feet. “I can’t wait to shower! I smell like a pumpkin doused in sweaty cinnamon.” Bucky’s face contorts into a perplexed look before he bursts out laughing, running over to smell you. “Yep. Totally sweaty cinnamon pumpkin. Deeeeelicious!”

Taking off your apron and throwing it at his face you head to the back to grab your stuff. “I’m going home to shower! You’re mean.” Bucky quickly grabs you around the waist and pulls you in close. “Can I come?” Trying and failing to resist his charm you shake your head no. He pouts, kissing you before saying, “please? I’ll wash your hair!” Your face lights up and you shoo him off to get his backpack.

The whole walk home you’re riding the last bits of energy from the day, just barely making it up the steps and into your apartment. You shed your clothes by the door and rush into the bathroom, turning the water on hot and stepping under the soothing stream. Bucky slides in behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his chest. He starts massaging the shampoo into your hair and you slump against him, moaning under the pressure of his fingertips. “Aren’t you glad you let me come home with you.”

Humming through the magic of his hands you turn in his arms, carefully cracking an eye open to avoid the shampoo. “You knew I was gonna let you come; I hate the nights we spend apart.” He pushes the hair from your face and continues gently rubbing his fingers over your scalp. “Me too, baby. In fact, why do we spend any nights apart?”

You lean your head back and let the water wash away the soap, handing him the conditioner. “I don’t know actually. Other than the fact that neither of our apartments are that big and we don’t have all our stuff at each place.” He smooths the conditioner through your hair and twists it around his fingers, using it to tug you close. “Why don’t we put all our stuff in one bigger place?”

“Are you asking me to move in with you?” With one step he has your back against the cool tiles, his wet body flush to yours, “yes, that’s exactly what I’m asking.” You trace your finger over his lips, kissing off the droplets of water, “I’d love to be your roommate.” He gives you the biggest smile you’ve seen all day and rests his forehead to yours. “I love you.” You pour those same words back in a kiss, suddenly feeling like getting dirty before you finish getting clean.

The rest of the week goes by just as fast as Monday and by the time Friday rolls around, Bucky falls face first onto the couch and groans into the pillow, “thank god Sam gave me the night off.” You land on top of him with barely an oof and reach around for the remote. “It’s under my legs I think,” Bucky’s muffled voices says from the pillow. “Pffft forget it. Maybe we should keep looking for apartments.”

Bucky’s hand shoots up and he gives you a thumbs up, “ok babe, let’s do it.” Neither of you move to get up. “You have to get up y/n.” You curl up and take the blanket from the back of the couch, draping it over you both just as Bucky shifts onto his side and lets you fall into the space between him and the couch cushions. Snuggling up in his arms you rest your head on his chest and promptly fall asleep.

Early Winter (couple of months later) …

“Oh man, what is that amazing smell!” Bucky’s words float through the sugar and spice scented air before he even has the door closed to your new apartment. “What are you making baby doll?” He slides up behind you and pulls you against his chest, kissing your neck and cheek in greeting. “Hi baby. I’m working on that new gingerbread cookie recipe. They are great for making fun Holiday shapes and easy to decorate! Wanna try?”

He opens his mouth as an answer, and you pop a gingerbread man head in. “Wow. This guy tastes delicious!” You giggle and clap your hands together happily, getting back to rolling out more dough. “How was everything at the shop today?” you ask, while working to get the right thickness for the dough. “Great. Everyone who came in said they’re really looking forward to the new desserts you have planned. I still can’t believe how well it’s all going. Who knew coffee and cake is all we needed to make people want to buy books?”

Handing him the rest of the gingerbread man’s body you say, “I know. Sometimes I can’t believe it either. We’ve been so busy I still haven’t finished unpacking the last of the boxes!” Turning his way with the roller in hand you give him a look sweeter than the cookie. “Do you think you could take a weekend off from the bar soon and maybe we could finish the unpacking and hanging pictures and even go on a date?”

Bucky eyes the rolling pin in your hand and you realize you’re standing there looking like you might knock him over the head with it if he’s says no. You both burst out laughing and he takes it from your hands. “Yes. I can definitely do that. Just don’t threaten me with a rolling pin anymore!” With a kiss to his lips you quietly say, “if you think that was threatening, you haven’t seen anything yet!”

You finally get your weekend off a couple of weeks later and it’s just what you both needed. The boxes get emptied and the pictures get hung and Saturday night finds you dressed up and out at one of your favorite Spanish restaurants Tia Pol. “Try this Buck, it’s amazing.” Holding the fork up he takes a bite, closing his eyes and humming at the delicious taste. “Oh man, you’re right, so good!”

“I have a bridesmaid dress fitting next week, I’m so happy Peggy let us pick our own dresses!” A sly smile grows over Bucky’s face. “I can’t wait to see you in it, what does it look like?” You wave a dismissive hand, “oh you’ll just have to wait! And don’t you guys have to do your tux fitting soon?” Bucky nods through a mouthful, “yup, couple of weeks.”

“I can’t believe it’s only two months away! This will definitely be a memorable Valentine’s Day!” Bucky takes a drink of wine, eyeing you over the glass. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” He takes your hand and runs his thumb over your knuckles, smiling softly. “I’m looking forward to it. I’m just happy I get to spend it with you.” He lifts your hand and kisses it, making you giggle. “Me too. It’s going to be amazing.”

Valentine’s Day/Steve and Peggy’s Wedding…

“Peggy, I…you look perfect, just perfect!” You try to get the words out without letting the tears fall but it’s no use, carefully blotting your eyes in the hopes of not ruining your make up. Peggy points a stern finger your way. “If you make me cry again, I’ll stab you!” Nat giggles and fixes Peggy’s veil, holding back her own tears. “It’s time ladies,” the bridal attendant says softly, helping the three of you line up. Nat walks out first, and you watch as the smile spreads across her face the moment her foot hits the runner.

You wait for the attendant to motion for you to go and begin taking the small steps out of the room. You haven’t seen Bucky all day and you can’t wait.  You take that first step into the aisle and search the front, his gaze instantly finding yours as you make you way to him. Your eyes never leave his and your cheeks hurt from smiling. You’re so overwhelmed with happiness, for your friends, for you and Bucky and you just want to cry again.

His eyes tell you everything as you continue to stare at each other from across the altar. He mouths, “I love you,” and you do the same back, letting out a deep breath to quell the tears. The bridal march starts and you reluctantly look away, your eyes now focused on Steve who looks so completely in love that you feel the first tear run down you cheek, this moment one you will never forget.

@aesthetical-bucky @auro-ora @bugsbucky @book-dragon-13 @buckys-henley @bucky-on-my-mind @buckys-broody-muffin @buckys-minty-breath @breezy1415 @eurynome827 @hiddles-rose @hawksmagnolia @hailmary-yramliah @itsunclebucky @itsunclebucky​ @imgaril-lindru​ @ikaris-whore​ @jhangelface0523​ @jewels2876​ @lorilane33​ @littledarlinhavefaithinme​ @littleredstarfish​ @loricameback​ @mushyjellybeans​ @marvelandotherfandomimagines​ @marvelgirl7​ @nano--raptor​ @nerdypinupcrystal​ @randomfandompenguin​ @sallycanwait68​ @scarletsoldierrr​ @the-wayward-robot​ @tuiccim​ @yansi1923​ @flyawaybay​ @throwmyheartawayagain​ @amandatar-06​ @nd1998sc​ @captainchrisstan​ @vherriepie​ @godofplumsandthunder​ @when-the-hell-is-bucky​ @fire-flv​ @jamesbarnesappreciationclub​ @irishflutiegirl​ @rinthehufflepuff​ @moonybarnes​ @nordlysinthewoods​ @lauratang​ @my-favorite-fics-and-imagines​ @buchanansebba​ @emilylyoness​ @addikted-2-dopamine​ @lady-pswrld​ @lookiamtrying​ @pinkdiamond1016​ @lokilvrr​ @mishaandthebrits​ @hopefuldreamers-world​ @rebekahdawkins​ 

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bookshop!bucky au #bucky x reader fluff #bookshop au #bucky barnes au #bartender!bucky x reader #bookshop!bucky x reader #bookshop!bucky fluff #bucky fluff #bartedner!Bucky #bartender au #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky au #baking au #bucky #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #top shelf #top shelf chapter 18

[sarandsaffitz]

Salted Halvah Blondies, p.128, Dessert Person by Claire Saffitz

Made 10/16/2021 with the help of my BFF, Caroline.

YUM! These are so delicious and you feel super accomplished when you’ve made them. Absolutely ingenious recipe by our #Queen - Claire, amazing, I can’t believe this is the second easiest recipe in the book, like what?

Tips:

1. Halvah was difficult to find and a search to find vegan (I originally found some with egg in it). I ended up going to a local international grocery with middle eastern foods and found a vegan halvah there.

2. Vegan white chocolate chips are even harder to find. Somehow, I found some at Walmart, the organic ones, and stocked up so I hopefully don’t have to go back to Walmart anytime soon.

3. Claire says to use a metal tin, but I only had glass. Shouldn’t change the bake at all right? (wrong)

4. More of a zero waste tip: Did you know you can make your own brown sugar? Instead of buying it in those plastic bags, just measure out how much the recipe calls for in white sugar, then add a small amount of molasses. Using a fork, mix it all up until there aren’t any molasses pieces left over and it’s all the same color. Tada! You made brown sugar. Good job, you!

How to make vegan:

This recipe calls for butter, an egg and 2 large egg yolks. I always opt for Earth Balance instead of butter, which can come in sticks for baking. The egg we swapped for a flax egg.

The egg yolks I was unsure of, and if I were to do this again, which I probably will (and I’ll post about it if/when I do) I would do another flax egg instead of what I ended up doing. I read somewhere that chickpea flour is a potentially good replacement for egg yolks, so we used 3 tbsp of chickpea flour, with 3 tbsp of water. It didn’t seem to add or take anything away from this bake, so do what sounds right to you. Next time I’m just doing another flax egg.

Maybe because of the chickpea flour egg yolk or maybe because there may have been excess liquid or maybe because we used glass instead of metal (I kind of need Paul Hollywood to tell me what exactly went wrong), we ended up needing to bake this longer because it was just way too jiggly all over the damn thing. The recipe says to bake for 20-25 minutes, but we ended up baking for another 15-20.

The recipe also says to allow the blondies to cool completely in the pan before cutting. I did that and tried to cut them but it seemed as though it still hadn’t set completely. Into the fridge it went, and now this morning, a little coffee and a delicious, almost fudge-like consistency, salty and sweet and nut buttery blondie. Seriously delicious, will definitely be doing this one again. 10/10

Edit: 11/3/2021 - I made these again for some friends and used two flax eggs instead and it worked out great! Still had to chill in the fridge but would definitely keep this one in mind for a tasty treat to bring to a dinner party.

#dessert person #claire saffitz is my god #delicious #how did i not know about halvah before?

[hotpinkhoshi]

the pact | epilogue

pairing: jinyoung x reader

genre: romance, smut, a lil angst

warnings: unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), pure sugary sweet FLUFF

word count: 5.4k

summary: you desperately need to get over your decade-long crush on lim jaebeom, and your close friend jinyoung needs to get over his ex—so the two of you make an arrangement: just sex, no feelings. what could go wrong?

a/n: wow, you have no idea just how excited i am to finally post this! i can’t believe it’s finally over, and i just want to thank you guys so much for how sweet you’ve been to me along the way. i really hope you all enjoy the epilogue, please don’t hesitate to let me know what you think about the ending! 

a special thanks to kat @listlessmaenads​ and nik @jinyoungmoans​ for making sure this doesn’t suck 😘

↳ index here

It turned out, Jinyoung was a pretty great boyfriend. 

He showed his love every day, often not through words but through his actions. He texted you first thing in the morning, wishing you a good day at work because he woke up at dawn for his workout—like a crazy person. 

He called you on his lunch breaks if he couldn’t visit you at the store, and even surprised you with takeout from your favorite restaurant on one particularly rough day.

He was a true gentleman. 

Too much of a gentleman, to be frank. 

You’d gone on three dates already, and each and every one of them had ended with an innocent kiss at your door. Nothing more. It was driving you insane. 

The closest you’d gotten had been your third and most recent date, when you’d gone for ice cream and a movie. During the movie, he had kissed you breathless, despite the film playing on the screen in front of you. But as soon as you’d lifted the arm rest to climb onto his lap, he’d pulled away from your eager lips. 

“Not here,” he’d whispered to you, leading you to believe maybe, he’d want to come inside when he walked you to your door. Yet that night had ended like all of the others. 

But tonight—you would make sure tonight was different. 

Jinyoung invited you over so that he could make dinner for you, and to you, this seemed like the perfect chance. 

You knew he wanted you, and he was just being polite, but you needed him. It wasn’t the sex you missed, not completely at least. You missed the intimacy. Being close to him, as close as two people could be, stealing each other’s breath, skin to skin. 

You’d worn a dress you knew he’d like. Not particularly short or revealing, but snug in all the right places. You wanted to remind him of what was underneath the fabric, all of the skin that was his to kiss and worship. Your hair was pulled up, revealing the back of your neck, a spot he loved to kiss. 

Whatever game he was playing, it would end tonight. You’d make sure of it. 

You clutched the baking pan in your fingers as you waited for Jinyoung to answer the door, fingers tapping impatiently against the glass. 

He only made you wait a few more seconds before he was opening the door, a sweet smile on his lips until he took in your appearance. His smile faltered, eyes raking down your frame until they filled with a darkness you’d been craving. 

“Hi,” you said innocently, extending your arms to offer him the dish in your hands. “I made dessert.” 

Jinyoung coughed, eyes shooting up from your exposed thighs to your face. “Dessert? Uh…” he blinked a few times, then seemed to snap himself out of it enough to form coherent words. “Great. Good. Come in.” 

Taking the pan from you, he welcomed you into his apartment. You could practically feel the heat coming from his gaze as you bent down to unfasten the straps of your heels so that you could slip your shoes off. 

“What did you make? It smells amazing,” you said, straightening up and turning towards him. Jinyoung was clutching the baking dish so tightly his knuckles were going white. 

“Carbonara. What’s… what’s this?” he asked. 

“Banana bread,” you answered. 

You’d dedicated the whole day to finding the best recipe, one that you could follow without too much difficulty, and hopefully not screw up. You hadn’t been able to taste test it, but it had smelled good while it was baking, and you figured that was a good sign. 

Jinyoung’s lips lifted into a smile, no doubt remembering the disastrous assignment from high school that had ended up hard as a rock and nearly caused you to fail the class. 

“I’m impressed,” he replied. “Come on, it’s ready now.” 

Over the next few minutes, Jinyoung visibly relaxed, less focused on your curves in your dress and more on the act of serving you dinner and pouring the wine.

It was so similar, yet so different to the first time Jinyoung had invited you over for a meal. At the time, you’d come over for the sex, but ended up having a really great meal and even better conversations. 

He’d gone as far as to light a candle at the table and set some roses in a vase. Simple as it seemed, it was a level of effort you’d never received from any other man. And the food was incredible, too. 

“You need to teach me how to cook,” you told him. “It’s not fair.”

Jinyoung chuckled, reaching up to wipe a drop of sauce off of your chin. “I can do that. Even though this really isn’t that complicated…” 

“Oh, trust me, I’d find a way to ruin it,” you admitted, finishing up your last bite. “But I want to be able to make something delicious for you.” 

“You’re delicious enough on your own, babe,” Jinyoung replied, though the look on his face told you he knew just how cringeworthy it was before the statement even left his mouth.

You winced, inhaling through your teeth. “Yikes.” 

“I’m so sorry. It just came out,” he said, and you noticed the tips of his ears turning pink. 

“Well,” you started, wiping at the corners of your mouth with your napkin. “At least I know you’re just as smooth as you’ve always been.” 

Jinyoung’s face turned into an expression of mock offense. “Hey, I’m very smooth. In fact, I’ve been saving all of my most romantic moves just for you. Exhibit A,” he said, gesturing to the candlelit dinner in front of you. 

You couldn’t help but to snort, though you conceded with a nod. “You’re right. This is really nice. Is there an exhibit B?” You wiggled your eyebrows.

Licking his lips, Jinyoung shrugged. “Maybe. But first, we need to try your dessert,” he suggested, though when he stood to clear your plates he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips that took all the air from your lungs. 

Half of you wanted to say screw it, grab him and drag him back to the bedroom. But that wouldn’t be very romantic, and you did want this to be special. Finally, after all this time, you were both on the same page and could show each other how you truly felt. 

“Here we are,” Jinyoung began, setting the baking dish on the table and peeling back the foil. “Do you want the first taste, or should I do the honors?” 

“You try it. I’m too nervous,” you replied. 

Your boyfriend laughed, placing a small slice on his plate and digging in with his fork. You watched with wide eyes as he brought a bite to his mouth, his expression completely unreadable as he chewed. 

“Is it okay?!” you asked nervously. 

Finally, he cracked a smile and nodded as he swallowed. “It’s really good.” 

“Really?”

“Mm,” he hummed, “try it yourself.” 

Jinyoung broke off a small piece with his fingers, reaching across to feed it to you. You took his wrist in your hands, letting him place the bread between your lips. 

You couldn’t help it. Instead of letting him pull away after you chewed, you held his hand right where it was and wrapped your lips around his index finger, taking it into the wet warmth of your mouth. 

Watching Jinyoung’s eyes, you hollowed your cheeks and sucked at his digit as it rested on your tongue. There was a hitch in his breath just before he slid his finger deeper inside of your mouth, only for a moment. Then he removed it with a pop. 

“Yum,” you said, licking your lips. 

Jinyoung only let you take one breath before he was in front of you, lifting you to stand so that he could collide his lips with yours. You whimpered at the rough pressure but within a moment, you were clawing at the buttons on his dress shirt, desperate to feel his skin under your fingertips. 

His hands roamed your body, sliding along your back until he was grabbing at the soft curves of your hips to bring you against him. You worked at the buttons of his shirt, yanking the fabric apart until you could push the garment off of his shoulders. 

As you parted from Jinyoung for a gasp of air, he wasted no time, diving in to kiss and suck at the tender flesh of your neck. You groaned, fingernails dragging down the front of his chest. 

“Jinyoung.” Your entire body was igniting under his touch, a fact that came as no surprise to you. It had been so long now, you weren’t above begging for him to finally give you the physical attention that you needed. “Please, please.” 

Jinyoung pulled back from your neck, staring down at you as he held your chin between his index finger and thumb. “Please what, baby?” 

“I need you,” you whispered, gazing up at him. “I can’t wait anymore.” 

The way he smirked down at you sent a jolt of electricity straight to your core. Need was becoming an understatement. Your hands traveled across his chest and up along his neck until your fingers could push through his hair, gripping onto the strands to pull him down for another kiss. 

You didn’t need words. Jinyoung got the message, reaching down to lift your legs around his waist, turning to carry you back towards the bedroom. He stopped at the nearest wall, pressing your hips into the surface with his own. 

The length of him pressed into your thigh, showing you that he was already hard and ready for you—you wondered how long he’d been thinking about picking you up and stealing you away to the bedroom. 

You moaned into the kiss as Jinyoung began to grind his hips into yours, the thin lacy underwear you’d worn was almost like you were wearing nothing at all, making the contact all the more torturous. 

Then Jinyoung was carrying you the rest of the way to his bedroom, kicking the door open and not bothering to close it behind him. He set you down, breaking the kiss in the process. 

His hands immediately worked to slide the zipper of your tight dress down, letting the fabric fall away to leave you in the barely-there undergarments. 

“Fuck.” 

Your cheeks reddened at his reaction, but you regained control within a second. “Sit on the bed,” you told him, eyes traveling down his bare upper body to the bulge in his pants. 

Jinyoung took a few steps backwards until his knees hit the bed, then he lowered to sit upon the edge. Leaning back on his palms, he stared up at you with so much lust, it felt like he was the one with the upper hand. 

“Gonna make you feel good,” you said, closing the distance and kneeling in front of him. 

Jinyoung reached out, brushing his fingertips along your cheek. “You always do, baby.” 

You licked your lips as you undid his belt, then his pants. You tugged at the waistband until Jinyoung got the hint, lifting his hips so that you could remove his pants. Once he was left in just his boxer briefs, you scooted even closer. 

All the times he’d laid you down and driven you crazy with his mouth, you wanted to repay the favor. He deserved it. It wasn’t like you never went down on him, but it was normally only for a few minutes before he was dragging you back up his body to slip inside of you. Besides, it had been so long now, you’d missed the feeling of his cock in your mouth. 

“Jinyoung,” you whispered as you stared up at him, hands traveling from his knees to his thighs. Strong, corded with muscle he worked so hard for during those early morning gym sessions. 

“Yeah, angel?” he replied, tongue wetting his lower lip. 

“You love me, right?” you asked him with a deceivingly innocent smile, lifting up onto your knees to press a kiss to his lips. 

Jinyoung nodded, plush lips soft against yours. “More than anything.”

“Good,” you breathed, resting back on your heels. “But I want you to fuck my mouth like you hate me, okay?” 

Jinyoung nearly choked on air, eyes widening down at you before he composed himself. He nodded, corner of his lips raising into a smirk. 

“Let your hair down. I’m going to need something to hold onto.”

You obeyed, undoing the bun you’d tied at the top of your head to let your hair fall to your shoulders. Your fingers tucked into the waistband of his underwear, sliding it down until his cock was freed from the fabric. 

He was hard already, a sight that made you squeeze your thighs together. There were many things you’d missed in these last months, but Jinyoung hard and naked was at the top of the list. 

You decided to start slow. You wrapped your hand around the base of his shaft, ducking your head down to take the tip into your mouth. Eyes never leaving Jinyoung’s. 

Slowly, torturously so, you lowered your head until you’d taken about half of his length, feeling the tip of him bump against the back of your throat. 

Jinyoung kept his cool, as always, eyes boring into yours as you worked at him. It took a couple of minutes for you to get used to the feeling, the movement, the rhythm that you knew he liked. But his chest started to rise and fall just a little bit faster, and you knew his hands were itching to grab onto your hair. 

On the next stroke of your mouth, Jinyoung’s hips bucked up, enough to make you gag. Then again, again, and again. The room filled with the sound of Jinyoung’s groans and sharp intakes of air, mixed with the obscene noise each time his cock met the resistance at the back of your throat.

So much for wanting this to be romantic. 

You felt saliva drip out of the corner of your mouth to your chin but made no effort to wipe it away. He loved you like this—sloppy and desperate. Your clit was throbbing and he hadn’t even touched you yet. 

Then Jinyoung was standing, hand on the back of your head to keep his cock in your mouth. He twisted his fingers in your hair, holding tight as he guided your mouth to take him deeper. 

“That’s it,” he said, voice low and gravelly. “More? You want more?” 

You nodded, blinking away the tears that formed at the corners of your eyes. His cock hit the back of your throat again but you relaxed, as much as you could, to let him slip past your gag reflex. 

“Jesus, your fucking mouth.” 

Jinyoung held you there for a moment, even as you coughed around him and your hands gripped his thighs because you needed something to hold onto. He began thrusting into your mouth, hardly giving you a moment to breathe. 

“Such a good girl, taking me in so deep, getting all wet and messy for me…”

You moaned around him, despite the physical discomfort you felt from the way he was using your mouth. You loved it just as much as he did, no matter how tight your chest got or how sore your jaw felt. 

Finally, he yanked at your hair, pulling you off of him. Within a second, he was bending down to slot his lips against yours and helping you stand in front of him. His hands traveled down your body, squeezing and groping at your flesh. 

“Beautiful,” he whispered as he broke the kiss, eyes taking in your frame. You felt goosebumps all over your body from the fire in his gaze, a look you never got used to. “Undress for me, baby.”

It was an internal battle not to blush as your boyfriend stared at you, brown eyes following the trail of your hands down your own body, your fingertips forging a path to the waistband of your panties. You slid them down your legs and stepped out of them, holding his eyes as you unhooked your bra and let the lace fall to the floor. 

Jinyoung took a step closer, resuming your passionate kiss. You could never get enough of his lips, the way they fit perfectly with yours. It was funny to think how polite he’d been the first time you’d kissed; now, he wasted no time sucking at your tongue and nipping at your lower lip. 

His thumbs wiped at your cheeks and chin tenderly, cleaning up the mess you’d made. Walking you back to the bed, Jinyoung only parted from you enough to motion for you to lay back on the bed. 

You did as he asked, crawling over the mattress until you laid with your head at the pillows. Jinyoung was above you within seconds, mouth attaching to your neck and hips pinning you to the bed. 

“You’re- god, you’re so hard. Please,” you begged, sliding your hands up his back. “I need you inside.” 

“Not yet,” he whispered, pulling away to gaze down at you. His hand traveled from your neck down between your breasts, a light touch that set you on fire. He sat back onto his knees, one hand nudging your legs apart. 

Jinyoung stared hungrily at the sight of your glistening core spread out for him. There was no doubt you were wet enough for him to slip in easily, but it came as no surprise that he wanted to feel it for himself. 

“So wet just from sucking my cock, aren’t you baby?” One finger slid down your center, ghosting over your clit, the one place you needed him most. 

You whined, hips bucking up towards his touch. As he swirled two fingers in the arousal that had gathered at your entrance, a moan fell from your lips, earning you a cocky grin. 

When his touch left you all together, you furrowed your eyebrows, ready to complain. Until Jinyoung was pressing his fingers into your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself. 

Only a moment passed before you relaxed, flattening your tongue to wrap your lips around his fingers. His eyes darkened even more, watching the way you circled your tongue around his fingers, eager to taste your own sweetness. 

Finally, when he was sure his fingers were clean and covered with your saliva, he removed them from your mouth. He didn’t waste any time, pushing both digits into your entrance. 

“Oh-” you sighed, eyes falling shut. 

“Feels good?” he asked, adjusting himself so he could lay on his side next to you. He began a gentle pace inside of you, with his thumb rubbing figure eights into your clit. 

“Mm-hmmm,” you hummed. 

Jinyoung knew everything about your body by now. He was perceptive like that. He arched his fingers in just the right way to hit that spot inside of you, the one that sent shockwaves through your whole body. 

You whimpered. “Jinyoung…” you breathed, feeling around until you could grip onto his forearm. 

He didn’t stop or let up. If anything, his pace became more intense, unrelenting as he drove into you. His lips were under your ear, kissing the sensitive skin and whispering words of praise.

“So sweet, fuck, you feel amazing. Gotta open you up for me, love. You’re so tight,” he told you, adding a third finger as if to prove his point. 

“Ah,” you gasped, back arched slightly off of the bed for a moment, until you grew used to the width of his three fingers. 

“You wanna come like this?” Jinyoung asked, lips now pressed to your cheek. The only sound in the room was the wet, slick noise of his fingers thrusting in and out of you and your breathless praises of his name. 

Shaking your head, you squeezed his arm. “N-no,” you breathed, “I want to come with you inside.” 

“Good girl,” he praised, angling to kiss your lips, his fingers slipping out of you to leave you empty. Another mewl of complaint fell from your lips at the lack of contact. 

Jinyoung sat up to push his boxer briefs down and kicked them off, before settling back on top of you, forehead pressed into yours. He was all around you now, nothing left to separate your bodies. 

“Missed this,” you whispered, tilting your chin up until you could brush your lips against his. You parted your legs, bent at the knee to rest alongside his hips. 

A silent question in his eyes as he lined himself up with your entrance. You nodded, pressing your fingers into his back. Both of you sighed as he slid inside, filling you up just the way you needed. 

Jinyoung began a slow pace, hips rocking deliciously into yours. He buried his face into your neck and groaned, movements controlled to a point that you knew it was taking a great deal of effort not to pound into you. 

Your hands were all over him, nails grazing down his back until you were pressing into his ass, pulling him deeper inside of your heat. Desperation filled you as he thrusted into you, never feeling like you could get him close enough. 

“Jinyoung,” you moaned, nails digging into his skin. “Kiss me.”

He pulled his face from your neck and gave you what you wanted, kissing you slow and deep. He swallowed your moans and brought a hand to the side of your face, pushing your hair out of your face. 

Jinyoung whispered your name against your lips, over and over. Broken sentences fell from your own lips, finding it hard to think straight while he was fucking you this deep, a bruising intensity that made it hard to breathe. 

“Oh,” you sighed, your hands sliding back up his body to nestle into his hair. “Jinyoung, love y- oh, fuck. I can’t- God. Please.” 

Jinyoung nipped at your lip, pulling back enough to duck his head down, taking one nipple into his mouth. You gasped at the sensation of his tongue rolling around the bud, knowing it was enough to send you over the edge if he continued. 

Dropping to hover over you on one elbow, his free hand reached for your leg to hook around his waist, angling you just right for him. His lips continued their work on your breast, releasing your nipple from his mouth to suck a hickey into the skin just above. Well, that would keep you from wearing low cut tops for a week or so. 

You fisted his hair and arched your back, encouraging him to continue. Never one to give you what you want so easily, Jinyoung pulled away as soon as he was sure he’d marked you properly. After kissing the quickly forming bruise, he was gazing down at you again.

You groaned when he raised up enough to wrap his arm around your lifted knee, bringing it to drape over his shoulder. It was a stretch in your leg that hurt, but it was good, the pleasure of his length hitting your g-spot more than enough to overpower the pain. 

Jinyoung built up his pace as a bead of sweat trickled down his temple, hips fucking you almost mercilessly now. He was close, you could feel it in the way he was losing control, eyes wild as he stared down at you. 

“I’m-” you started, dropping your hands from his hair to grip the sheets underneath of you. “I’m almost there. I need…” you began, but Jinyoung finished for you when the hand gripping your thigh dipped down between your bodies. 

“Come on baby,” he encouraged, pad of his thumb massaging your clit now. “Be a good girl for me, yeah? Let me see you come for me. Let me feel you squeeze around me.”

“Ah… I…” you trailed off, eyes practically rolling back as you felt the waves of pleasure start to crest, so close to your peak. “Jinyoung.” 

It only took a few more thrusts until you were tumbling over the edge. You covered your mouth instinctively, though your hand was only there for a moment before Jinyoung was grabbing it to pin above your head. He wanted you loud. 

He got what he wanted. You cried out, back of your head digging into the pillow as your whole body trembled, core pulsing around him with each wave of bliss. He didn’t stop, knowing you needed him to fuck you through it. 

Your body was still twitching with the aftershocks when Jinyoung came. He buried his head into your neck, releasing inside of you with a deep, low groan against your skin. You gasped at the sensation of his cum filling you up, hot pulses that seemed never-ending. 

“Love you,” he whispered as his body began to relax and he came down from his intense climax. 

You turned your head until your lips found his, kissing him with all of the energy you could possibly muster up. It wasn’t much, though. He’d tired you out. 

“I love you too,” you replied against his lips. When you pulled back for air, you looked up into his eyes and couldn’t help the smitten smile that formed. “God. I love you so much.” 

Jinyoung pressed another kiss to your lips, chaste this time, then once more against your forehead. You shivered as he withdrew from you, suddenly feeling cold as soon as his body left yours. 

“I’ll be right back,” he told you even as you whined, grabby hands reaching for him. “Two minutes. Just give me two minutes,” he laughed. 

While Jinyoung went out to grab a towel to clean you up, you rolled over and got yourself comfortable under the covers. If he wasn’t planning on cuddling, you were going to be sorely disappointed. 

All you wanted was to be wrapped up in his arms for, well, the rest of eternity if possible. Jobs and responsibilities be damned. 

Jinyoung returned shortly with a damp, warm towel over his shoulder and a bottle of water in his hand. He set the glass on the nightstand, crawling underneath the covers. 

You couldn’t help distracting him as he cleaned you up, kissing his shoulder, his chest, his throat, whatever expanse of skin you could get your lips on. He complained, pretending like it bothered him but you knew it was quite the opposite. 

When you felt like you were sufficiently less sticky, you took the washcloth out of his hands and tossed it to the floor behind him. You silenced his protest with a kiss, wrapping your body around his like a monkey. 

“Gah,” he said against your lips, “So needy.” 

“Mm,” you agreed, dragging your lips across his cheek to his jaw. “Yes, I am. And I’m not ashamed.” 

Jinyoung laughed as you assaulted him with kisses, your hair tickling his chin when you nuzzled into his neck. 

Finally he relented and wrapped his arms around you, letting your limbs get tangled up and your bodies to press together without any barrier. You honestly couldn’t imagine a better feeling than being completely surrounded by Jinyoung, enough to feel his heart beat pulse against your skin. 

You settled into comfortable silence as he held you, hands stroking patterns up and down your back that sent goosebumps all over. No, there was nothing better than this, you decided. This was your own personal heaven. 

“Y/N,” he whispered after a few more minutes, just as your breathing slowed and you were almost lulled to sleep. “How about a shower? As much as I love this…” 

“Yeah. We’re a little sticky,” you agreed with a laugh, finally peeling your body away from his. 

Jinyoung got off the bed first, reaching his hand out to help you stand. 

“Ooh,” you gasped as your knees wobbled, nearly giving out once your feet hit the floor. Jinyoung caught you, wrapping his arms around your waist securely. 

“Whoa there,” he said with a laugh, kissing the side of your face. “Okay, so maybe a bath instead?” 

You nodded in agreement, blushing until he picked you up, a tiny yelp of surprise falling from your lips. 

“Show off,” you teased, slipping your arms around his neck as he carried you to the bathroom. 

“You love me, though,” he countered, patting your bare ass playfully. 

Tucking your head into his neck, you nodded after a moment, smiling so wide that it hurt your cheeks. In that moment, you knew that you’d made the right choice. You were happy, finally, just truly happy. 

“Yeah, I do.” 

~~~~~

Two Years Later

It was a beautiful venue. More than enough space to contain the one hundred guests on the invite list. 

The ceremony was held in the back garden, sweet smelling flowers surrounding the rows of chairs that sat in front of the arch for the bride and groom. 

There was hardly a dry eye in sight during the vows, even BamBam was spotted wiping his cheek with his sleeve. Though he’d never admit it. 

After everyone convened in the dance hall for the reception, you were quick to remove your shoes, a fancy pair of stilettos you’d bought yourself for your birthday this year. You leaned your head on your husband’s shoulder, watching the newlyweds’ first dance. 

“My feet hurt,” you whined in a whisper, wiggling your toes. 

Jinyoung chuckled, slipping his arm around your shoulders. He rested his head against yours. “I told you to wear the flats, didn’t I?”

“Shut up,” you countered, turning your head to nip at his ear. “The heels were cuter. They’re sparkly.” 

“Ah, you make a good point,” he whispered, placing a kiss to the top of your head. “How are you feeling?” 

“Good,” you replied. “A little tired.”

Jinyoung squeezed your shoulder gently, sliding his fingers along your skin. “The books say-“

“I know. It’s normal for the first trimester.”

Your husband smiled into your hair. “Sorry. I’ve just been learning a lot, you know? I want to help as much as I can.” 

And he had. After finding out you were pregnant two weeks ago, Jinyoung had truly stepped up his game. Buying all of the natural remedies for morning sickness, rubbing your feet after every shift at the store, letting you sleep in on the weekends while he cleaned up the apartment and did the grocery shopping. 

No one knew yet, since it was still rather early in the timeline and you both wanted to be sure before you spread the word. It felt like your own little secret—it was exciting. When you weren’t miserable, at least. 

“I’m just grateful I’m not puking right now,” you told him, sliding your hand along his arm until you could intertwine your fingers. “I don’t think the bride and groom would appreciate that.”

Jinyoung snorted. “Jaebeom would lose his mind. I swear, I’ve never seen him as frazzled as he was this morning. He was wearing out the carpet, pacing back and forth.” 

You laughed softly, watching as Jaebeom spun his bride around, nearly stepping on her dress. She smacked his shoulder playfully, no doubt reminding him just how expensive her dress had been. 

“Can’t believe we’re here,” you said, staring down at your hands before pulling back to lock eyes with Jinyoung. “If only I could go back and tell my thirteen year old self where we’d end up…” 

“Ha. My thirteen year old self would never believe me.” 

Squeezing his hand, you smiled as you pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek. “I’m glad we’re here.” 

It hadn’t always been an easy journey these last two years. After the honeymoon phase wore off, you’d gone through rough patches just like any other couple. It turned out, you were both wildly insecure deep down, which was never a good combination. You were needy and Jinyoung was jealous.

You’d had minor fights and not so minor fights, ones that had Jinyoung sleeping on the couch for a week, and one particularly terrible night you’d stayed with Sana. In fact, the man dancing with his wife in front of you had been the cause of that fight. Even more surprising that you were here now. 

But you kept your promise to each other, always. Even when it was hard, even when you cried and thought maybe this wouldn’t work out after all—you still chose each other. Every day. Things weren’t perfect, but they were pretty damn close. 

“Me too,” Jinyoung replied. 

As you squeezed your husband’s hand and placed it against your stomach, you silently thanked yourself for each and every decision you’d made that had brought you to this place. 

Something inside of you, though, told you the best was yet to come. 

#thepactfic #writing #got7 #park jinyoung #jinyoung #got7 fanfic #jinyoung fanfic #jinyoung smut #got7 smut #got7 imagine #jinyoung imagine #jinyoung fluff #got7 fluff

[theworldthatneverwas]

Between Part and Meet - Trio

Fandom: Kingdom Hearts Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ephemer & Player Character & Skuld (Kingdom Hearts)

***

“Do you have a reservation, kupo?” the Moogle at the host stand asks you.

“Um, yes, I think so,” you say. “It might be under Ephemer?”

The Moogle scans through the list and nods. “You’re the first to arrive. Come this way, kupo.”

Feeling a little out of place, you follow the Moogle to a comfortable-looking booth with a frosted window overlooking the streets of Daybreak Town. You slide into the booth and are handed a menu and a bundle of utensils. “Can I get you anything to drink while you wait, kupo?” the Moogle asks.

“Um, just water is fine,” you reply a bit distractedly. The Moogle nods and floats away, leaving you to glance over the menu.

You’ve always been the early one when meeting up with Ephemer, and often when meeting with Skuld, too. It just feels nicer being early than it does being right on time or late. But this is the first time the three of you are meeting up outside of the clock tower, and not at anyone’s home. You hope they aren’t so busy with Union leader stuff that they forget about your plans together tonight at this restaurant.

You’ve even dressed up for the occasion – not too much, of course, but you’re not just wearing your usual mission clothes, either. Chirithy had helped you pick out your outfit and had been patient as you tried on different articles of clothing until you settled on this one.

You glance at the menu items without really reading them. You haven’t eaten at a restaurant in ages. So long, in fact, that you wonder briefly if there are any etiquette rules you might have forgotten. The Moogle comes back with your glass of water and you glance around at the other restaurant-goers. Many seem to be eating together in pairs, you realize. There’s a rather rowdy group of friends in a corner near the door, and a table of people who seem to have finished their food long ago and are just sitting and talking. That seems nice, you think. Just having somewhere to sit and talk with your friends.

There’s a tap on your shoulder and you look up with a jolt, then relax as you recognize the smiling face of Skuld. “Hope I haven’t kept you waiting long,” she says, sliding into the seat across from you. “Ephemer’s on his way too, but he told me to go without him in case you came early so you wouldn’t be sitting alone. We both guessed you’d be the first to arrive.”

“Typical,” you say, waving your hand dismissively. “But – wait I didn’t get a good look at you before you sat down. That’s a really nice shirt! Can I see the whole outfit?”

Skuld’s smile is radiant as she shimmies out of the booth to stand so you can see the whole outfit. Her usual skirt and zippered top are traded out for a lovely top with a high neckline and high-waisted pants. She’s even tied her hair into an elegant updo, though you can see that she hasn't traded out her familiar star-shaped studs. “You look wonderful!” you say. “I’m flattered you’d take the time to put your hair up like that, too. Did it take long?”

“I got Lauriam to help, actually,” she says, sitting back down and turning her head so you can admire the delicate twists of her hair. “He’s got all kinds of weird skills like that. He walked past me trying to do it myself and offered to help, and well, here we are.”

“He seems like a pretty interesting guy,” you say, propping up your cheek on your hand. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to help him with his little sister. Have you found out anything more about her?”

“Not yet, I’m afraid.”

Just then, a Moogle comes by with another water for Skuld. “Need a bit more time before you decide, kupo?” they ask, and you both nod in unison.

“I haven’t even looked at the menu,” you admit, pulling it up in front of you again. “Is there anything you recommend?”

“Hmm…” Skuld muses, running a finger down some of the options. “I’ve heard they have good spinach dip. And that their pastas are huge so it’s good to share.”

“Those both sound good. We could all get something different and try each others’, too.”

“I hope you two haven’t ordered without me.”

You look up from the menu to see Ephemer, smiling broadly. He slides into the booth next to you and you look him up and down to take in his outfit. Of all things, you’re most surprised that his red scarf is nowhere in sight, though he’s wearing a collared shirt that’s a similar shade of crimson. He’s even tucked his shirt into proper dress pants. His sleeves are rolled up, though his usual gloves are gone, too. It’s a rather nice look on him.

“Wow, Eph, you really cleaned up,” Skuld teases, leaning across the table.

“Excuse you, I always look this dashing – I just have specific wardrobe choices I like to keep to. Gotta maintain a certain aesthetic.”

You grin. “You look really nice. Your hair’s even less poofy than usual.” And it’s true, too – his normally chaotically curly hair is surprisingly tame today.

He turns to you and raises a hand to lightly pat at his own hair. “It took a lot more effort than I usually put into it,” he admits. He takes a moment to look at your own outfit and smiles. “You look pretty nice, yourself. Really nice, I mean. It suits you.”

You find your face growing warm at the compliment and hide it by directing everyone’s attention to the menu again. “So, what are we eating? Skuld and I were thinking we could each get something different to share.”

“Ooh, I like that,” Ephemer says, rotating the menu to read it better. “Can we share some of these appetisers first, maybe? And then get a bigger meal.”

You gesture across the table. “Skuld was just saying the spinach dip is supposed to be good. And the pasta portions are really big.”

“Okay, let’s do the spinach dip then, and maybe two of the pastas?”

You and Skuld both nod in agreement. “Sounds good.”

Just then, a Moogle comes by with a third glass of water for Ephemer and asks, “Does everyone know what they’d like to order, kupo?”

“Uh… I’ll let you guys each pick a pasta,” you say, and they both quickly study the menu. “We’ll have some spinach dip to start.”

“Let’s go with this… noc… no-chee and sweet potatoes pasta,” Ephemer says, and you chuckle under your breath as you look at the entry he’s pointing to on the menu.

“The sweet potato and hazelnut gnocchi,” you correct, and Ephemer looks a bit bewildered as he studies the word again, one eyebrow raised.

“Oh that sounds good, okay, and then how about this smoked salmon alfredo for the second pasta,” Skuld says to the Moogle, pointing at the menu before handing it over to them. “We’d like to split them so if you could just bring us a couple of side plates that would be excellent.”

“Understood, kupo. Can I get you anything else to drink?”

Ephemer suddenly looks hopeful. “Do you have milkshakes?” he asks in an unusually small voice.

Though it’s hard to understand Moogle expressions, you think this one might be smiling. “Chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry milkshakes, kupo.”

“I’ll have a vanilla milkshake, then,” he says.

The Moogle nods. “I’ll be back with it soon, kupo!”

Skuld shakes her head at Ephemer. “A milkshake, huh?”

“I’m always up for ice cream,” he says. He bumps your shoulder with his own. “Wonder what a sea salt ice cream milkshake would taste like.”

You shrug. “Probably much the same as the ice cream itself. Sweet and a bit salty.”

“Do you think ice cream is hard to make? It seems like it would be.”

“Can’t say I’ve ever tried it. Might need a special machine or something. I’m not sure how it gets so fluffy.”

“If it’s anything like whipped cream,” Skuld chimes in, “I bet it needs a lot of mixing.”

In short order, Ephemer’s milkshake is delivered. He takes an eager sip from the straw and lets out a satisfied “ahh” before he pushes it towards you. “Want some?”

You take a sip yourself. It’s wonderfully creamy and vanilla-y. “Yum,” you say, licking your lips.

Ephemer offers his drink to Skuld in turn and she takes a small sip. “Oh that is good,” she says. “Now I almost wish I’d gotten one, too.”

“Excuse me!” Ephemer says abruptly, stopping a nearby Moogle who was passing by your booth. “Could we get two more milkshakes?”

“What kind would you like, kupo?”

“Wha – Ephemer, I don’t actually need one–” Skuld splutters, reddening under the Moogle’s expectant gaze.

He shakes his head at her. “Just go for it!” he says. “You may as well while we’re here.”

“Um, one strawberry milkshake,” you say politely. Ephemer grins at you and Skuld sighs before giving in.

“Okay, and one… one chocolate milkshake.”

“Got it. I’ll be right back, kupo.”

Skuld stretches her arms out over the table. “I shouldn’t let you guys convince me to buy things I don’t need,” she says.

You shrug. “I think it’s good to treat yourself, too. If you only ever bought things you absolutely needed you’d have nothing to look forward to.”

“I was just going to say you should buy milkshakes because they’re delicious but that sounds much more reasonable.” Ephemer takes another sip of his milkshake. “Soo good.”

Skuld leans against the back of the booth. “True. On both accounts, really.”

The Moogle returns with your requested milkshakes and you take an eager sip of yours. “Oh the strawberry flavour is so nice,” you say, sliding it along the table to Ephemer. “Try some?”

Skuld takes a sip of her own drink and smiles. “I mean, it is good. Here, try mine too.” You swap drinks. The chocolate has almost a hint of bitterness to it, and it, too, is very tasty.

The three of you make small talk until your spinach dip is delivered not long after. You scoop some of the warm cheesy dip onto a piece of toasted flatbread and blow on it before taking a tiny bite. It’s very hot, but also pleasantly creamy and flavourful.

“So Ephemer,” Skuld says as she scoops some of the dip onto a piece of bread, “can we talk about how you’ve never seen the word ‘gnocchi’ before?” You snort with laughter, suddenly remembering.

Ephemer is indignant. “I have seen it before! I’ve just never had to say it aloud!”

To Ephemer’s credit, it’s not an easy word to understand the pronunciation of, but it’s too fun to tease him like this. “Do you know what gnocchi is?”

“I do! It’s like little potato pasta things. Isn’t it?” He suddenly seems a bit unsure of himself and looks to you for support.

“Yeah, that’s pretty much right,” you laugh, taking another bite of your appetiser. “How did he say it again?” You turn to Skuld. “'No-chee'?”

She grins and Ephemer ducks his head slightly under the pretense of taking another sip of his milkshake. You can see that his cheeks have gone a bit pink. You pat his leg under the table. “Aw, it’s okay, sunshine. We’re just having a bit of fun. I think the Moogle knew what you wanted, anyway.”

He leans his head against your shoulder in mock grief. “All I wanted was some pasta.”

You pat his hair gently. It’s extremely soft today, perhaps having something to do with however he got his curls to look more tame. You reach forward to grab another piece of bread to dunk in the spinach dip and Ephemer sits back up so he can help himself as well. The appetiser wasn’t too big, and it’s just enough to satisfy your hunger a teeny bit until you get the pasta dishes.

“Oh, I meant to tell you,” Skuld says, pushing the dirty plates off to one side so she can reach a hand towards you over the table. “I finally saw Brain make food today. Or well, not really make food. But I did catch him eating some hard-boiled eggs? So I assume he made them himself.”

“Oh good, proof he actually does eat sometimes.” You trace your thumb over the back of Skuld’s hand. “I wonder if he ever goes out to eat. Do you think he hoards food in his room?”

She looks thoughtful. “Honestly the only places I ever see him are in the control room, in the main meeting room, or in his own room. So I can’t imagine he just heads out on the town to buy food very often.”

“I don’t know if that’s true,” Ephemer adds, propping up his cheek on his elbow. “He left with Lauriam one time to go somewhere in Daybreak Town. I don’t know if they went shopping, exactly, but they went out to do something .”

“Maybe the reason he always leaves fighting monsters to the rest of us is because he never has any energy due to lack of food.”

“Does he drink coffee?” you ask, trying to think if you’d seen him with a mug or a cup of anything the last time you’d been at the clock tower.

“I… don’t… think so? He might. There isn’t a coffee machine in the common kitchen area though, so he’d have to have it in his room.” She looks at Ephemer. “I don’t know if I’ve ever even seen him have a glass of water when he’s working.”

“Oh, no, one time I offered him a cup and he was scandalized. Told me off for even thinking of putting water anywhere near all of the computers. Which I guess kind of makes sense. We often have a bunch of papers all over the desks too so it would be bad if we spilled something on them.”

“Hmm,” you say, tracing along a dark line in the wood of the table top with your free hand. “Do you think it’d be weird if we tried to get together and have a meal sometime? Like, all the Union leaders. Or would that be extra weird to have me along since I’m not really part of the leaders…” You trail off, wondering if you’ve overstepped.

Skuld squeezes your other hand reassuringly. “No, I think that sounds great! I love your cooking. We could all try to pitch in and have a potluck, maybe!”

“Yeah that sounds excellent!” Ephemer agrees, nodding. “I’m always up for good food.”

“You’d have to make something too,” you point out. “It’s a potluck.”

“I can make food!” he insists. “You two have no faith in me.”

You and Skuld exchange a grin. “I’ll believe it when I taste it,” you tease.

Your food arrives just then, and you let go of Skuld’s hand to clear a space in the middle of the table for it to be set down. Both pastas are steaming and look wonderful. The Moogle places some extra plates down as well and picks up your spinach dip dishes to take away while another Moogle comes by with a cheese grater.

“Can I offer you some Parmesan cheese, kupo?” they ask, and Ephemer eagerly offers forth the smoked salmon dish.

“Yes, please!” he says, then looks to you and Skuld to confirm this is okay. Skuld shrugs and nods and you agree. The Moogle grates a nice little pile of Parmesan shavings onto the pasta and departs.

“Oh I am so ready to dig into this,” Ephemer says, unwrapping his fork from the napkin and scooping some of the nearest pasta onto his plate.

“Skuld, what are these little green things?” you ask, patting Ephemer’s arm so he can pass you a plate as well.

She inspects it for a moment. They’re about the size of peas but darker and a bit more leafy-looking. “Ohh these are the capers,” she explains, and pops one into her mouth. “Yeah. They’re like tiny flower buds.”

“Huh. I don’t know if I’ve ever had them before.” You scoop some of the pasta onto your dish and spear a caper experimentally on your fork before putting it in your mouth. “Hmm. Kinda salty? It’s good though.”

Skuld nods. “It goes well with the salmon.”

“Gonna try some of the no-chee?” you tease, gesturing to the other pasta plate.

“Yes I find I’m rather fond of no-chee,” she laughs and helps herself to the gnocchi. Ephemer makes a pouty face at the two of you but says nothing, his mouth full of pasta.

You take a sip of your strawberry milkshake – nearly done – and scoop some of the gnocchi out onto your plate as well. The hazelnuts give it a pleasant, earthy flavour along with the sweet potatoes. It’s a nice combination. “Good pick, Ephemer,” you say after swallowing your mouthful. “Might have to try making this sometime.”

“I might not know how to pronounce it, but I can still appreciate good food,” he says with a grin.

“Oh hang on, there’s a plate of garlic bread here, too,” Skuld says, moving the pasta dishes aside to put the plate in the center of the table. “Aw and there are three pieces even though we just got the two pastas, that’s nice. Okay, everyone gets one.”

The garlic bread seems to have been made from a rounded bun of sorts, and it’s wonderfully crispy on the flat side but fluffy and soft on the rounded side. “I might have to just order a basket of garlic bread the next time I come here,” you say after you’ve devoured your piece. “That was excellent. ”

Skuld drags her straw around the edge of her glass to get the last of her milkshake. “I think all the food we’ve had has been excellent. I’d come back.”

“I’d like that,” Ephemer says after swallowing a mouthful of food. “I mean, I just like eating food with you guys.”

“Is it because you don’t want to cook for yourself?” Skuld teases.

“No! I just like having familiar things.” This isn’t a particularly surprising sentiment coming from the boy who’d eaten the exact same flavour of ice cream with you day in and day out for nearly a year.

“Maybe we should try different places each time,” you offer. “You know. In case we find other foods we really like.”

Ephemer falls silent as he considers this but Skuld nods. “I like that. And then if we have a favourite place we can always come back to it.” She looks to Ephemer for agreement.

“Yeah… okay. When would we go? Once a week?”

Skuld shakes her head in surprise, glancing at Ephemer. “I don’t know if either of us can consistently set aside that kind of time. Maybe every three weeks? We can always try to get together on the off weeks, obviously. We just wouldn’t be going to restaurants.”

You feel a little twinge of sadness at the suggested schedule – surely Skuld and Ephemer will be seeing each other a lot more often than you’ll be seeing them in between meetups – but… well, any time you can hang out with them is good. “That’s all right by me,” you say.

“Great, it’s a plan. Ephemer and I will figure out a day that works best and let you know as soon as we can.”

Unexpectedly, you find yourself trying to avoid their gazes and look down at your plate under the pretense of trying to scoop a hazelnut onto your fork. It’s fine that Skuld and Ephemer have Union leader stuff to do. Obviously. They’ll let you know as soon as they’re free. “Yeah, sure.” The words feel uncomfortable in your tight throat.

Luckily, Skuld doesn’t seem to notice. You chance a glimpse up at her and she’s back to eating the last of her pasta. Ephemer bumps his shoulder against yours and smiles radiantly and you wonder if he noticed your reaction. You do your best to smile back and quickly turn away, picking up your near-empty glass of strawberry milkshake as though you think you can get more ice cream out of it. It’s fine. You’re fine.

“Well, that’s all for me,” Skuld declares, setting down her fork. “Ephemer, you want the last of the gnoc – ahem – the no-chee?”

Ephemer rolls his eyes at her. “Sure, I’ll finish it. You want any more before I take it?” he asks, offering the plate to you. You shake your head and he scoops the last of the gnocchi onto his plate. “Excellent.”

You lean against the back of the booth as well. “I’m full too. That was really yum.”

“I might have to try making gnocchi one of these times,” Skuld says thoughtfully. “I don’t think it would be too hard. Don’t you just cook the potatoes and then add some flour and stuff?”

You shrug. “I’ve never tried. You might have to cook it after you mix everything together, or maybe you can just use it in a dish as soon as you’re done, I’m not sure. I’d want a recipe before I try making it for the first time.”

Ephemer puts down his fork at last with a satisfied sigh, pushing his plate away from himself. “I mean, if you two want to cook no-kee then I wouldn’t complain about trying it.”

“Gnocchi,” Skuld corrects offhand, smiling, “and I’m sure you wouldn’t mind eating free food, huh?”

“I’m just saying, I wouldn’t pass it up.”

A Moogle comes by to pick up your dirty dishes. “Can I interest you in any dessert, kupo?”

Ephemer looks longingly at the dessert menu but you and Skuld both shake your heads. “I’m really full, but thank you,” you say.

Ephemer sighs. “Me too. Maybe next time though.”

The Moogle nods. “And how would you like to pay tonight, kupo? All on one bill, or separate?”

“Oh, uhh…”

“One bill is fine,” you interrupt. The Moogle nods and leaves.

“How much do I owe you?” Skuld asks, digging in her bag, but you shake your head.

“Don’t worry about it,” you say. “I’ll get this one. Then we’ll just have to go out again so you guys can pay me back.”

“Are you sure?” Ephemer asks, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah, don’t sweat it.”

He slumps back in his seat. “Well, okay then.”

You pat his leg. “It’s my ploy to get you guys to hang out with me more,” you stage-whisper, ostensibly joking but also secretly hoping that they really will make sure you go out at least once more together.

The Moogle comes by with the bill and you hand over some munny, thanking them for the lovely meal. “I guess we should head out,” Skuld says, looking around. “It’s pretty busy so we shouldn’t take up an extra table.”

“Yeah, that’s… of course.” You glance at Ephemer and he slides out of the booth to let you out too. The three of you wind your way around the tables and out onto the streets of Daybreak Town.

“Thanks for the night out, you two,” Skuld says as the restaurant door closes behind you. She pulls on a motorcycle jacket on top of her fancy outfit, making it look more casual, but also somehow more… Skuld. Ephemer rolls down his sleeves but otherwise doesn’t seem as bothered by the cool breeze. Typical.

“This was really nice,” you say, stretching your arms out in front of yourself. “Thanks for coming.”

Unexpectedly, Ephemer pulls the three of you into a hug. “I’m glad things worked out that we could all meet up again,” he says.

“I… yeah, me too,” you say, wrapping your arms around the two of them. You’re not quite sure if he means he’s glad you could meet up tonight or if he’s grateful that, after all that has happened, despite being separated, the three of you managed to end up in the same world. You're glad for both, in any case.

“Well, I guess we should be off,” Skuld says when you break apart. “Do you want us to walk you home?”

Yes. “No, that’s all right,” you say. “I live in the other direction, anyway. I’ll see you guys soon!”

They smile and wave at you as they turn to walk in the other direction. You walk boldly through the streets, not looking back until you’re sure they must be out of sight, then sit down on the curb on a small side street. “Lucky?” you call tentatively.

Your Spirit companion poofs into existence beside you in the form of the fluffiest pink dog you’ve ever seen. They crawl up into your lap and their pink tongue laps at your chin. “No, no, it’s fine, settle down,” you say, pushing them down. Lucky quivers in your lap, their tiny tail thumping against your knees. You stroke their head softly. “I just needed a hug. And I didn’t want to let Chirithy know. You won’t tell them, will you Lucky?”

Lucky’s pink tongue lolls out of their mouth for a moment as they pant, then they lay their head down on your arm and look up at you with big eyes. You run a hand along their fluffy fur absentmindedly.

“I just… I think I get jealous of Skuld and Ephemer hanging out? I don’t know if that’s what it is, exactly. I just know I feel upset when I think about them hanging out without me. And I know a lot of it is unavoidable – obviously they’re both Union leaders, so they’re going to see each other around the tower and have Union leader meetings and stuff. So it’s stupid to get upset over it. Right? I feel like I’m just bringing the mood down because I want to spend time with them, too.”

Lucky’s quiet in your lap and you continue to stroke their fur. “I don’t want them to feel bad, either. I know they already feel bad enough for keeping things from me about the Keyblade War and all that. And I really, really want things to go back to normal.” You sigh deeply and Lucky’s tail starts to wag again. “Yeah, okay, we can go home,” you say, ushering them off your lap. Their shape changes to that of a little wolf, like they want to protect you as you walk home. You reach down and pat them between the ears. “Thanks.”

*

Ephemer turns to look back at you as he and Skuld walk in the other direction towards the tower, but you’re already partway down the street, confidently strolling away. “Did you think… did you think Peach seemed a bit troubled back there?” he asks.

“Just now, you mean?” Skuld asks, turning to him in surprise. “No, not really. Did you?”

He shrugs. “I dunno. I just thought they seemed a bit sad about something.”

“Well, we can ask the next time we all get together. Make sure they’re all right.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I hope we’re not too busy this week.”

***

Find Between Part and Meet on AO3! It updates every other Tuesday. This is the first chapter out of 6. I also have several other KHUx fics there under theworldthatneverwas, so be sure to check them out if you enjoyed this one!

Fic summary: You, Ephemer, and Skuld are back together again in Daybreak Town, but adjusting to normal life after the Keyblade War is easier said than done. And with Ephemer and Skuld so busy with their Union leader duties, what will it take to build this friendship up to weather any storm?

#ephemer #khux #kingdom hearts #skuld #union cross #fanfic #twtnw posts #between part and meet

[chocolatecakecas]

Okay okay wait hold on I am THINKING. So the shoulder grab and the hug are two of the most blatant and sacred of the intricate destiel rituals. So the left shoulder grab is the first time they EVER touched (handprint) and it immediately became their thing, Cas grabs Dean's left shoulder (so much so that when Casifer grabbed the wrong shoulder Dean knew something was wrong), so it became their intricate ritual. Then the first time they ever hugged was in Purgatory, and it was a fierce, a desperate hug, so from that point on whoever initiated a hug, gripped the other tightly and it became an intricate ritual.

So we know that their last hug was in Purgatory, after Dean's love confession in 15x09 and we know that their last shoulder grab was after Cas's confession in 15x18. So Dean initiated their first hug, so it was HIS ritual, so Dean hugs Cas after he confesses his love for Cas. And Cas started the left shoulder grab, so that was HIS ritual, so Cas grab's Dean's left shoulder have he confesses his love for Dean. So the two most intimate rituals, their most sacred methods of touch, were present in both of their respective love confessions

#just ignore me #i am GOING to pass out #i am definitely reading WAY too much into this ik but i dont care im goinf CRAZY #i wrote this in the tags somewhere else but i NEEDED to say it #yum yum this glass is delicious would you like a piece?? #the intricate destiel rituals make my brain go brrrrrr #literally LITERALLY these are THEIR things and ONLY theirs i am going crazy #THE PARALLELS THE PARALLELS AKDHSKAKS #AND THE JACTING JOICES AJDHAJSKS #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #15x09 #15x18 #4x01 #8x02 #robert berens #bec speaks #bec rambles about destiel #deancas #casdean #jensen ackles #misha collins #spn

[missguomeiyun]

Homecookings [Nov ed]

Hi all!

This month, I finished reading Kim Un-su’s “The Cabinet”. It definitely took me a while to get into. By “a while”, I mean like maybe the first 2 chapters. The novel is continuous but every chapter, it talks about 1 “case”, until you read the final 3rd of the novel. While I don’t think you can (/should) open up to a chapter & just start reading, it does have short story vibes. So it was interesting! I don’t really know what genre it fits in either. There’s a bit of everything... like thriller, sci-fi, realist... you should just read it!

Okay, homecooking food this month~

I tried out this brand of dumpling.

The wrapper was thin & cooks fast! The filling for this particular flavour was kind of disappointing. Perhaps bcos the main ingredient is glass noodles, there really much content inside. There was a lot of empty space in the dumpling. The flavour was good though- I’d give it 4/10 for spicy level, which means it was quite mild.

Homemade pho (via Instant Pot)

Made some flaxseed pancakes that I’ve incorporated parmesan cheese into.

Cheonggukjang (with pork belly meat), braised eggplant & rice.

Cold noodles with the radish broth (that was at room temp lol!) with tons of Korean seaweed flakes added. This was awesome!

Pork belly with my raclette grill that I got for my mom as Mothers’ Day gift hahaha!! Tried grilling cheese directly on the grill like above & wowwwww *drools* I love the crusty cheese texture so much!

After we finished the pork belly, we poured off the oil but as you can see, there was still quite a bit left on the grill, so then we grilled “sticky rice patties” on it. Turned out surprisingly delicious! I thought the rice would fall apart but maybe bcos it was sticky rice, it didn’t become disintegrated. The exterior was crisp & some pieces had nice grill marks.

Fettuccine with herb cream & corn!!!

My one-pot meal that contains a lot of good stuff like nurungji, flattened rice cake, dumplings & napa cabbage. Essentially it’s like a ddeok mandu guk but I added nurungji & perilla seed powder :D

Here comes the ‘everything’ noodle soups lol basically all the random soup noodles I’ve made this month. As you know, noodle soup is my staple :P I can do a month without rice but I can’t go a week without noodles. ..

Beef + daikon soup with udon

Busan fish cake + bokchoy with thick rice noodles

My “leftovers” rice noodles haha so all that peas & broccoli stuff was from a stir-fry the night before. I dumped that in the water with fish cake & napa cabbage.

Red miso pork belly with mixed greens & udon

Veggie + beef soup with thick rice noodles

It’s been a while.. . ddeok-mandu soup! :D YUM!

Chicken & napa cabbage with (thin) rice noodles in a spicy garlic broth. It has a spoon of spicy garlic sauce that my mom made & some fish sauce.

Talk to you soon!! I have a lot of posts lined up~ But at the same time, you’ll just have to wait for them.... I have a lot to do these days... AT HOME (while working full time shift work)!! As you probably are aware, a “5th wave” of C*vid is not an impossibility with a new powerhouse mutant coming out. Despite ppl & things have &/or are resuming normalcy with vaccine passports to visit restaurants & facilities, I’m content with this home-body lifestyle tbh (& oddly, can carry on for another year or 2 lol!). Ppl will likely disagree & think I’m crazy but I feel like this almost-2-year period has given me so much me time that I would likely NEVER have had if it were “normal”. Does that even make sense? Like what I mean is, I genuinely feel for those who have been sick & have lost loved ones (& esp post-secondary students who have experienced educational delays & cancellations of stuff), but on a personal level, I’ve gained knowledge & new skills, & used my time effectively. I don’t have the mindset of “we’ve wasted the past 18 months, unable to go anywhere or do anything fun, etc...” So yeah.. that’s me haha

#food #homecooking #homemade #i cook sometimes #lunch #dinner #noodle soup #yum #healthy #healthy eating

[iwillhaveamoonbase]

Love at First Bite

Rayla is taken by a client to eat at the Italian-Korean fusion place in town and falls in love with the food, and later, the chef.

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

Rayla smiled at her client as they waited for their server to come.  Her boss had told her that they had to keep the contract with the client’s company no matter what, and if that meant going to a Korean-Italian fusion restaurant that would probably be too spicy for Rayla’s Scottish, fried-food-loving taste buds, so be it.  The client, Ms. Danvers, had been hyping the restaurant up all evening.  “You said you like potatoes?  This place as amazing kimchi-style potatoes and potato pancakes.”

Rayla nodded.  “My grandmother is Irish and there are always potatoes cooking in her house.”  Rayla subtly looked around the dining room. The walls were mostly white with a few panels a beautiful red.  There was artwork on the walls, ranging from sceneries to portraits.  They all looked to be done by the same artist but Rayla couldn’t place a name to them.  The air was warm and smelled of spices and herbs and cheese.  Rayla could see a row of cheeses on one of the shelves.  “Do they use a lot of cheese here?”

“Korean food pairs wonderfully with cheese.  There’s a rumor that all the vegetables here are from the local farmer’s market as are most of the cheeses.  It’s fusion, but it’s as domestic as possible, too.”

“You’ve really been talking this place up.”

Ms. Danvers flushed.  “It’s my favorite restaurant.  I come here for lunch once a week and get take-away whenever I’m having a bad day.  This place is known for Korean-Italian fusion, but they make a delicious Thai laksa and a vegetarian Tom Yum that is to die for.”

“Really?”  Rayla didn’t know that much about Asian food, but she knew that Tom Yum was common in Thai eateries.

“The chef is a quarter-Thai and a quarter-Korean, his grandparents being from Thailand and South Korea.  He knows the flavors well and plays with them, but when he goes authentic, he’s the best in town.  He will also make almost any dish vegetarian if you request it.”

“How accommodating.”

A server came up, a smile on their face.  “Good evening and welcome to Sarai’s Place.  Any wine to start this evening?”  Rayla shook her head, surprised when Ms. Danvers asked for Thai iced tea for the both of them.  “And what can I get started for you?”

“Ms. Burrows?”

Rayla looked down at the menu again.  “Hmm.  I’m not sure what to get.  I don’t have a very high spice tolerance.”

The server nodded.  “Scale of 1 to 10?”

“Maybe a three.”

“Do you like kimchi?”

“Never had it.”

“Then I recommend trying the kimchi potatoes, if you like potatoes, or the risotto, which features chopped kimchi, sesame oil, and garlic.  The chef makes two kinds of kimchi, one mild and one spicy, so he’ll use the mild for you.  For the main dish, if you enjoy cheese, a pasta dish that has mussels, a Korean chili paste and tomato sauce, and fresh parmesan.  Everything that can be local, is local and if you eat vegetarian, the mussels will be taken out and instead you will get mushrooms.”

“My grandmother is Irish so I’m very snobbish with my potatoes.”

“I would rate his potato pancakes a ten.  He takes the traditional Korean recipe and adds parmesan cheese and some rosemary and its cooked with the house chili oil, so when you cut into it, it’s cheesy and subtly spicy.  The house chili oil is made with both gochugaru and the type of dried chilis usually used to make olio di peperocino.”

“I’ll go with the pancakes and the mussels pasta you suggested.”

“Excellent choice.  And for you?”

Ms. Danvers smiled.  “Did he make Tom Yum or laksa today?”

“Laksa.”

“I will take a bowl of laksa while Ms. Burrows is eating her pancakes and I will also take the mussels pasta.  Can we also get an order of garlic bread?”

“Of course.  I’ll get your Thai iced teas ready.  Anything else today?”

“What’s the dessert of the week?”

“Since it’s summer, mango pudding, Thai coconut pudding, and strawberry-lime cheesecake.”

“We’ll each take a slice of the strawberry-lime cheesecake.”  The server nodded and walked away after reading back the list.  “I hope you don’t mind me ordering dessert for you, but he only makes that cheesecake when the strawberries are in their peak season and it’s worth it.”

Rayla nodded.  “No problem, Ms. Danvers.  I wouldn’t really know what to order otherwise.”

They chatted while they waited, pausing when the garlic bread came to the table.  Rayla had been expecting the kind of garlic bread Americans seemed to adore, buttery and almost artificially garlic-y.  Instead, they got small, fresh loaves that had pieces of roasted garlic and thyme baked into it, served with the house chili oil and garlic that had been cooked until it spread like butter on the bread.  Rayla was impressed with the flavor and how the pieces of garlic were not overpowering.

When the potato pancakes came, Rayla could smell the spice but trusted the server had not led her astray, eyeing her glass of Thai iced tea just in case.  One bite and she was in heaven.  The cheese and the heat from the chili only enhanced the potato flavor as did the light smattering of soy sauce and vinegar-based sauce.  Rayla almost ignored Ms. Danvers when the pasta came, inhaling the dish.  At the end of the meal, once the excellent cheesecake had been finished, Rayla was in love with the food.  “Well, Ms. Danvers, I suppose I should be thanking you for introducing me to my new favorite restaurant.”

Ms. Danvers chuckled.  “It’s good, isn’t it?”

“I would marry the chef in a heartbeat if I got to eat like this every day for the rest of my life.”

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

Rayla brought all her clients and her coworkers to Sarai’s Place in the following months.  She tried almost everything on the menu, though she was still mildly terrified of the spiciness of the laksa if the smell alone was anything to go by.  Every Monday and Thursday, she got take-away and ordered the dessert whenever she ate in on Saturdays.  She was thankful she was single or else she would have to come here every week with someone and she liked dining alone in the quiet restaurant.

Sometimes, they played classical music, other times K-pop, and Rayla would always remember the night they had played an opera medley when several people with the Katolis Opera Company had dined that night.  The chef seemed keenly aware of who came to his restaurants at what dates and times and played music to fit their tastes but also made sense with the theme.

It was a popular spot with not only Foodies and high school kids, but a lot of Asian-Americans dined there.  Rayla had looked up the reviews and had seen it was highly recommended by the Katolis Korean and Thai communities, the Katolis restaurant circles, and the Commission for the Promotion of Local Ingredients and Farmer’s Markets.  No one said anything bad about Sarai’s Place without at least ten people defending the restaurant’s choices.

And now Rayla was sitting with her boss, Ahling Patel, and having to stop herself from inhaling the food in front of her.  The risotto was so satisfying and paired with chicken breast stuffed with kimchi, perilla, and ricotta.  “What do you think, Mr. Ahling?”

“It’s delicious.  I’ve always felt that fusion was a gimmick, but I’m sold by this young man’s food.  Young lady,” Ahling called the server, smiling good-naturedly when she nodded at him and finished up with her current customer.  When she came up to their table, she greeted them again.  “Is there anyway we can speak to the chef?”

The server blinked before nodding.  “I’m sure I can arrange it.  Dinner service is almost over and there are only you and two other tables.  Can I bring you dessert while I’m talking to him?”

“What do you recommend?”

“Our pastry chef made yakgwa, which are little honey pastries made with pine nuts, ginger, and sesame oil and they also made a yuja polenta cake and a play on Italian lemon cake, but with yuja.”

Rayla ordered the yakgwa and Ahling got the polenta cake and waited for the news.  Rayla couldn’t recall having ever seen the chef even though she came there at least twice a week, closer to three.  She hadn’t seen any pictures of him, either, surprisingly enough.  He was said to keep to himself and shunned the limelight, which is why he never made TV appearances.

A few minutes later, it wasn’t their server, but a man who looked be about 26 arriving with their desserts.  His green eyes were striking, as were his cheekbones and sharp jawline.  He gave them both an awkward smile as Rayla noticed his ring finger was bare and didn’t seem to have a tan line.  Was this the chef?  His coat would seem to say so.  “Nice to meet you both.  I’m Callum Evans, the owner and executive chef here at Sarai’s Place.”

Ahling smiled.  “It’s nice to meet you, young man.  I’m Ahling Patel and this is my employee, Rayla Burrows.”  Rayla nodded her head in acknowledgement.  “Your food is delicious.  How on Earth do you even think of this?”

The young man flushed, looking down at his feet.  “Um, I’m not that special.  Many people before me found that Korean and Italian food go well together.  Most of my recipes are riffs on family recipes and all my Thai dishes are family recipes.  I was originally going to go traditional Korean or Thai but there were no fusion places in the area and I’m part Irish and German on top of being a quarter-Thai and a quarter-Korean.  It felt…right, I guess.  I’m mixed and grew up with a variety of food cultures in my house, so why not do fusion?  Korean and Italian just made the most sense, so…”  He looked embarrassed at the praise, rubbing the back of his neck.

Rayla leaned forward a bit.  “I’ve eaten here at least twice week for the past six months.  I can tell you, without a doubt, it’s my favorite place to eat.”

“Thank you.”

Ahling cleared his throat.  “Are you single, Mr. Evans?”

Callum flushed even deeper.  “Ah.  Yes.  Being a chef requires long hours and running a restraint requires even more.”

“You need a good partner to help you find balance in your life!”

Rayla remained quiet as she watched them talk.  The only thing going through her mind was ‘I’m going to marry this man for his food.  I’ll eat well for the rest of my life.’  She stayed when Ahling said good night and while the restaurant emptied out.  Callum stayed at the table, fidgeting under her gaze.  “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“A date.”

Callum blinked.  “We have a sticky rice made with dates-”

“No.  A romantic excursion.  An outing.”

He gulped, looking her up and down.  “A date?  Really?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I fell in love with your food almost immediately after I tasted it and would like the chance to know the man who cooks it.”

Callum blushed.  “OK.”  They exchanged info and Rayla smirked as she left with his number in her cellphone.  There was no way she would be letting this one go.

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

After four months of dating, Rayla could confidently say that she was now just as in love with Callum the man as she was with his cooking.  Learning that his restaurant was named after his mother who died when he was in high school had endeared him to her, as had the knowledge that all the art on the walls were his paintings.  Was there anything he couldn’t do?

They were currently in Callum’s kitchen, him developing a new recipe while Rayla took down notes for him.  Even on his days off, he was always thinking about what he would do next and Rayla admired his passion to his craft.  When he brought her up to try the dish, she groaned.  “I will marry this man if it’s the last thing I do,” she muttered.

“I can hear you, you know,” Callum chuckled.

Rayla raised a brow.  “Then why haven’t you accepted my proposal?”

“Because you proposed to my food?”

“I hardly see the difference.”  Callum laughed at her, shaking his head.  “Hey, move in with me.”

“We’ve been together for four months.”

“Is that a problem?  Too short?”

Callum stared at her.  “You’re serious.”

“I told you; I fully plan on marrying you to eat your cooking ‘til the day I die.”

“So, it’s my cooking you love?”

“When have I hidden this?”  Rayla reached for his hand, pulling him closer.  “I’m serious.  Move in with me.”

“Why?”

Rayla shrugged.  “I’m happy when we wake up next to each other.  I like the idea of coming home to you or you coming home to me.  I don’t like sleeping alone, and, for the past month, the two of us have been alternating sleeping at each other’s places and it doesn’t make sense to pay rent on two places when we could be happy together?”

“That and I’m the only person willing to put up with your stubborn ass.”

Rayla gave him a mock offended looking, giving his arm a playful smack.  “You love my stubborn ass.”

“I do.”  Callum leaned down and captured her lips, letting her taste the dish he had been working on for the past hour.  When they pulled apart, he looked down into her eyes with his bright green ones.  “I think I love you.”

“That’s good, because I think I love you, too.”

Rayla would take that for now.  And in two years, when she would be standing next to him in front of their new house, matching rings on their fingers, and a very pregnant belly, she would remind him that he had his food to thank for their relationship.  “I fell in love with your food first.”

“I’m glad you did, because you kept coming back.”

“Lucky you.”

“Lucky me.”        

#moonbase fanfics #rayllum #rayllum fanfic #the dragon prince #au #love at first bite #this was just for fun

[ve1vetyoongi]

all aboard! (the passion express) | knj

Pairing: namjoon x reader

Genre: smut, office worker!namjoon.

Word count: 10.8k

Summary: There were not many things that got your blood boiling in the same way that two simple words could. Kim Namjoon. The name of your irritating and (unfortunately enough, as the universe would have it) incredibly handsome co-worker. Which is exactly why you never expected to find your self on your knees for him on the train home.

⇢ (or: in which Namjoon thinks you’re hot when you’re mad.)

Warnings: extremely public sex, dom namjoon, exhibitionism, oral (m recieving), thigh riding, kinda daddy kink, fingering, dirty talk, unprotected sex (stay safe kids), rough sex. also, namjoon in a shirt and tie (yum).

A/N: so. this happened. PURE FILTH. remind me not to scroll through “office worker namjoon” mood boards at 1am. p.s. train toilets r always gross so don’t do this (i warned u).

Playlist: visit my playlist page here and select “all aboard”.

⇢ Masterlist: x (links will be added once tumbr stops being a douche :/)

There were not many things that got your blood boiling in the same way that two simple words could.

Kim Namjoon.

The name of your irritating and (unfortunately enough, as the universe would have it) incredibly handsome co-worker.

For the most part your job was perfect; a career in book publishing had always been your dream and spending hours with your nose deep in the pages of new manuscripts and having afternoon tea with authors on weekdays (fit with triangular sandwiches and miniature sponge cakes - paid for with the company card, of course) all in the name of “working” was exactly how you envisioned it - if not more.

That was until Namjoon joined the company six months ago. The day he turned up in the elevator in his stupid suit jacket, despite the dress code being business casual, was the beginning of a journey filled with bitterness, anger and a dread for working hours. And apparently the beginning of an undeniable, all consuming school girl crush which just made you hate him more.

You would be lying if you said you took notice of him immediately. I mean sure, you noticed the hoard of girls who traipsed behind his polished dress shoes, using excuses like coffee refills and desperate quests for paper clips to unashamedly flirt with him.

But you supposed you didn’t truly notice Namjoon until he made it utterly impossible for you to ignore him.

It all started when you began to notice your pens disappearing from the pot on your desk. First it was your red marker and then it was your pink highlighter and you were sure you were just misplacing things or suffering from short term memory loss until you noticed the pile up of stationary on Namjoon’s desk that you distinctlyremembered buying last week.

You decided to be civil, putting any earlier first impressions behind you to confront him politely, only to be met with a grumble about how they just “turned up there.”

Not even an apology, you mused, sending a seething glare his way while you rearranged your pens neatly where they belonged. What an asshole.

After that, every little thing he did seemed to grind your gears. The way he whistled along to the monotonous pop music that crackled out of the office radio, the off-pitch tune droning on and on until you excused yourself with a tight lipped smile before you lobbed a hole puncher at his head.Or the way he would empty the coffee pot without refilling it for the next person and how he always forgot to reset the timer on the microwave.

And then came the management meeting from Hell where what was supposed to be your turn to pitch a new project turned into Namjoon meeting each of your ideas with a bored eye roll and a condescending head shake. He even had the audacity to offer to go over the project out of hours, to “help you.” As if he suddenly had a life time of experience in publishing and you were nothing but an intern.

His pitch, however, went down a treat (much to your dismay).

From then on you found yourself bickering over the pettiest of disputes at every opportunity you could find - desperate to get under his skin, a thirst for satisfaction only quenched by well and truly pissing him off.

That’s when your vendetta against him began. You managed to convince yourself it wasn’t the way he looked through you at the office or the way he smirked at you knowingly when the shorts he wore in the summer made your mouth water or the way he was completely, utterly, positively uninterested in you in any way other than as the co worker he liked to taunt for fun.

And he made sure you knew it, too.

Like when he deliberately left the office blinds open knowing full well that you had a front row view as he so graciously walked Seo Yuna to her car in the lot after work hours - even glinting through the sun and giving a snide wave as though he knew you were watching him from your desk.

Was he trying to rub it in? Was he aware that everyone in the goddamn nine storey office block wished he would look their way? Nothing would surprise you. Just add narcissistic to the list of bad qualities he possessed.

If that was his intention you were ashamed to admit it worked; the pang of jealousy in your chest when he rested his elbows on the car to duck into Yuna’s open window taking you by surprise. And the red hot burn as your fingers pressed angry half moons into your palms to control the swoon that threatened to surface when his deep chuckles fluttered through the open window was enough to confirm one thing:

Yeah, you definitely had a crush on this guy.

And once again, you hated him - for having the ability to turn you into a puddle of lust and for making you want to giggle like a teenager and sit on the thighs that looked so good in those goddamn pants and for setting your pulse at a pace that was most definitely unhealthy and probably categorized you as critically at risk of a heart attack - just by looking at him.

Namjoon was either utterly oblivious or completely uncaring since he seemed intent on pushing you to your limits - and finally, in a climax of events, today was the day when he reached his clumsy-kinda-obnoxious-yet-annoyingly-attractive-while-doing-so peak and any grip you had on your dignity disappeared, setting the angry beast that had remained caged inside you free in the middle of the office.

When you returned from your lunch break your eyes narrowed in on the desk drawer left slightly ajar immediately - your desk was usually meticulously organised - you watched a documentary about decluttered spaces improving productivity (much to the amusement of Namjoon who brushed his own messy habits off as being a sign of “creativity”), so you knew it wasn’t your doing - raising the question of who exactly had the audacity to destroy the harmony of your work space.

The answer was obvious. Nobody else in the office was blatantly bold enough to steal from someone else’s drawer. Except one person in particular, perhaps…

Yes.Your suspicions were confirmed when you peered over your cubicle to glare at Namjoon’s. He was wearing a black shirt today and it stretched deliciously over his broad shoulders, tie resting loosely around the vein in his neck that rose to prominence when he clenched his teeth in concentration, pencil scribbling furiously in the margins of the thick manuscript resting on his crossed knee.

And right next to him, a hot pink stapler balanced haphazardly on a stack of disorganized papers. A hot pink stapler that was absolutely tucked neatly in your drawer before you left for lunch.

Namjoon remained engrossed in his work, unaware of the way your face had begun to heat up with rage. Or maybe the pinkish tinge was a result of the way he pushed his thick framed designer glasses up the bridge of his nose with his forefinger. God he always looked so good in those glasses. Every time he swapped out his contacts you wanted to walk right over there and -

“No,”  You told yourself sternly, biting your lip as you desperately tried to ignore the way your legs had turned to jelly in your shoes. “He’s the worst! You hate him!”

I hate him, I hate him, I hate him…

The same mantra swirled in your head as you took a breath of courage and stalked in the direction of the stapler that rightfully belonged to you. It was about time you stopped taking Namjoon’s shit. It was about time you finally gave him a piece of your mind.

I hate him, I hate him, I…

You reached his desk all too quickly, placing your hands on your hips and staring down at him in a way that you hoped conveyed your vexation. He remained oblivious to your presence for a moment. That was, until, the sound of your exasperated sigh drew his attention, forehead creasing in confusion while he stared straight back at you with lips parted quizzically. Had you caught the Kim Namjoon off guard?

(God, if there was one thing you didn’t hate it was his face.)

You were the one to break the silence. “I told you not to steal my stuff, didn’t I?” His expression remained blank until you pointed a finger at the alarmingly bright office appliance. “I want my stapler back.”

Namjoon’s features shifted into an amused smirk, snickering when you began tapping the toe of your shoe with growing impatience. “I didn’t steal it.” He countered. “I borrowed it.”

“Namjoon, you and I both know you never asked permission,” you huffed, arms crossing your chest. “I think you just wanted to piss me off.”

Namjoon visibly scoffed. “Me? Piss you off?” His eye roll set your pulse racing with rage, only heightened by the sarcasm that laced his tone. “It’s not my fault you’re little Miss Uptight is it?” He shook his head, diverting his attention back to the stack of paper in front of him and just like that he dismissed you with a wave of his hand and a click of his tongue. “Just take it and go, I’m busy.”

“Don’t you dare ignore me, Kim Namjoon,” you spat, curled fist slamming down on top of his booth hard enough to make him jump in his seat, satisfaction spreading through your chest at the sight alone. “I’m not upright! You’re just an asshole who decided to make my job a misery! And for what? Because I’m not at your beck and call like Yuna?”

Oops. Maybe that was a bit too far…

“Yuna?!” Namjoon spluttered between surprised gasps of laughter. “What does she have to do with the fact that you’re a priss who never learned to share?”

You tried to ignore the embarrassing heat that had risen in your face, diverting your eyes from his. “If I’m such a priss why don’t you share her stuff instead?”

He raised his eyebrows at your pout. “Why? Are you jealous?”

“No! Of course not, I’m just…” You trailed off. He leaned back into his seat, the same stupid smug smirk turning up the corners of his mouth. As much as you tried to ignore it, it made your stomach flip. Namjoon looked satisfied, as if your stunned silence and attempt to stutter an excuse was exactly what he wanted.

By this point the entire office was staring at the both of you, including Yuna who looked almost as embarrassed as you did as she pretended to be unaware of the entire situation by rummaging through the contents of her bag for the lip balm she “lost” this morning and conveniently “could not seem to find.”

“Look, Namjoon, just give it back okay?” You nodded towards the stapler, impatient to just be behind your desk booth away from the prying eyes of your coworkers and more importantly away from Namjoon’s accusing gaze.

He ran a hand through his side part, gelled strands effortlessly messy. “Fine.” He grabbed the stapler and held it out to you with an innocent smile. You narrowed your eyes and he simply nodded in encouragement. “Here, take it.”

“See was that so hard-” Before your fingers could take the appliance from his grasp, he ripped it away again. With a dark chuckle he kicked his feet up onto the desk, revealing his annoyingly cute doughnut socks that nearly broke your resolve if it weren’t for the vengeful way he stared at you atop the rim of his glasses.

“Say please, Y/N.”

The glint in his eye tipped you over the edge, the elastic of your patience finally snapping when you launched at him without a second thought about repercussions. “Say please?!” All that mattered right now was making Kim Namjoon pay for being the most inconvenient, bothersome and punchable man on the planet.

Before you could think, both your hands were on the stapler and pulling with all the force you could muster. Namjoon seemed shocked at your brave act of force before he responded with a tug of equal strength, determined not to let go. “If you had said please in the first place we wouldn’t be in this situation!”

“So you’re uptight and ill mannered?” He got out between gritted teeth.

“I’m…not…uptight!”

You had begun a tug of war, both unconscious of the fact that twenty pairs of eyes were watching the childish events unfold curiously. Namjoon was red in the face as he tried to rip the stapler from your grasp and you had to lift a shoe onto the seat of his chair to keep your balance.

The move gave you a power advantage and with one last pull, the stapler was yours. Triumph plastered your face in the form of a self-satisfied smile - though not for long. Namjoon was breathing heavily through his nose, knuckles white with irritation. Before he could think better of it, he was sliding the wheels of his chair back, sending you flying into his desk and to both of your dismay, the mug of steaming coffee that sat on top of it.

“Watch out!” Too late.

The crash that followed was loud enough to elicit shocked gasps from those around you. The hushed whispers that filled the room before fell to an eerie silence as you tried to pull yourself to your feet with no luck, collapsing in a pile of splintered wood and printer paper.

“Uhh, Y/N? You’ve got a little coffee on your blouse.”

And that’s how you found yourself on the subway platform, waiting for a train to take you in the opposite direction of home but rather towards the nearest launderette.

You pulled the black blazer you donned tighter around your chest, not because of the evening chill which had set into the air by now but rather to hide the unmistakable brown coffee stain which seeped across the fabric of your blouse.

The launderette was closing in just under an hour and your train was nearly five minutes late already and you couldn’t help but grit your teeth in irritation when you recounted the days events over and over in your head.

This was all his fault. If Namjoon wasn’t such a shameless douche you would be home by now, heels off, feet kicked up while a re-run of The Vampire Diaries soothed the tension ache in your temples.

But no. You were waiting for a train to take you half way across town so you could wash this freaking blouse in time for the weekly company meeting tomorrow. It was an important one - you were going to finally present the pitch you had been working on for nearly four months - so everything had to be perfect.

This job meant everything to you, not that Namjoon would understand that - and you were determined not to let him ruin this for you.

“Damn Kim Namjoon.” you scowled at the ground, kicking an empty can across the scuffed platform floor.

“Either you know another Kim Namjoon or I arrived just in time?”

A familiar voice sounded behind you. Your mouth dropped slightly, icy shock snatching the colour from your face as you registered who it belonged to.

Sure enough, spinning on your heels revealed the one and only Kim Namjoon who you had grown to know and hate. Still in the black shirt which was now rolled up his forearms and loosened at the collar, he stood with his back against a pillar, smiling down at you bemusedly with his hands slung into his pockets like this was the most normal occurrence in the world.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

“What?” You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. “Are you haunting me now?”

He actually laughed at that. “Actually, this is my train home. Don’t usually see you here at this time so it seems like you are following me.”

“Following you?!” You couldn’t help the way your voice hitched incredulously, drawing the attention of passerby’s who side stepped around you nervously. “If it wasn’t for your little show today then I’d be on a train travelling as far away from you as possible right now.”

“Why aren’t you?”

“I have to go clean this.” You ripped open the front of your blazer revealing the coffee soaked garment covering your chest.

Namjoon bit his cheek to hold back a chuckle. He knew it would just set you off even more. You were a few feet smaller than him and the way you stared up at him with fiery eyes, not quite intimidating despite your best efforts, almost had him clutching his sides.

“As far away from me as possible huh…”

“What?”

“That’s what you want?”

You turned up your nose, confused. “That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

“It’s funny, really.” He let out an amused snort, not at you directly but rather to himself. The act annoyed you even more.

“What is?”

“Just that you never seem to be far away from me at all.” Namjoon rolled his eyes. “Oh Namjoon stop stealing my shit, oh Namjoon stop using all the printer ink-”

“I’m done with you now.” You turned your back to him, drowning out the tinny voice he used to mock you. He had a fair point…but only because his naturally irritating demeanour drew you into his fuck ups like a magnet.

“Because you think it’s always my fault right? God forbid you are the problem!”

You blinked. You?

“Like when, asshole?” You scoffed. “Name one time I gave you a reason to hate me?”

Namjoon reached into his backpack, pulling out a stack of papers that limply fluttered as a train breezily left the station. The edges were crumpled and the middle stained brown, ink nearly illegible. “You can clean your blouse but how about my manuscript?”

You thought back to earlier that day. It must be the one he was working on before the…accident. And to his credit, it looked like it was in pretty bad shape.

“If you weren’t so hard to ignore then maybe neither of us would be in this mess!”

You could feel the tension rising between you by the minute. If he wasn’t careful you would be responsible for another scuffle and this time you weren’t sure you could resist breaking his nose and a trip to the ER was not what you needed right now.

Namjoon’s face had darkened considerably too. You couldn’t help but find the way he tightened his jaw kind of hot. Stop, Y/N.

“Then let’s make this easier for the both of us.”

“Huh?”

He gestured between you. “When the train comes I will pretend you’re just a pretty girl on her way home and you can pretend I’m just another annoyingly tall guy and we’ll forget this day ever happened.”

“What’s the point of that? We still work together every day?”

He let out a sigh, exasperated by your persistence “Because then we can see who the real problem is? Who starts the next fight?”

"Fine!” The word came out a little more childishly than you had intended. What was his point here? To reinforce the fact that he hated your guts and couldn’t even stand to make small talk on the train for thirty minutes? “And then you’ll see that the whole problem is you.”

Wait….did he call you pretty?

Whatever. You could do this right? He was just trying to get into your head, trying to make you think that you were the issue here.

TRAIN NOW ENTERING PLATFORM. PLEASE MIND THE GAP.

The transport announcement alerted you of the trains arrival a few seconds before the clunky metal could be heard rattling into the station.

You averted his gaze, an uncomfortable atmosphere settling.

“Well, all aboard.” He said, arm outstretched, head nodding towards the open train door as if to say after you.

So now he has manners?

You gave a tight lipped smile in thanks, stepping onto the train. The carriage was completely full, no spare seats in sight, so you settled for holding on to the bar above your head, strategically making sure your back was to Namjoon. You were determined to show him that you couldn’t care less about his existence.

Staying true to his word, Namjoon joined a huddle of people at the opposite end of the carriage, staring sweetly into the distance as if he was utterly unaware of your identity.

You let out a sigh of relief. Maybe this was a good thing.

You attempted to busy yourself by staring out of the window; the trees and the sky whizzed into a turquoise blur like watercolour on canvas. Try as you might, your mind couldn’t help but wander back to the figure you wanted to desperately ignore when you noticed Namjoon’s reflection in the glass.

It was silly but you realised you had never looked at him properly before. In your head he was just a target of your rage, a face featuring often in your imagination’s gruesome revenge master plans. But, now felt like the first time you were really seeing him; the way he bobbed his head to the music that blasted a little too loudly through his headphones and how his dimple showed when he smiled politely at other passengers and how his arms cradled the sodden manuscript like it was fine china. Maybe you were too focused on yourself to see just how important this job was to Namjoon, too.

And although you had noticed his face before - it was hard not to - it was always during rushed glances over the top of your office booth, eyes quickly diverting and cheeks reddening when you were sure he caught you looking or when he would break yet another mug in the office kitchen and you would help him clean up the ceramic, ignoring the way his own cheeks turned pinkish.

But this time, through the safety of the glass which acted as a welcome barrier, you could study him more closely. The cute flush of his nose and the way his eyes were a little puffy from staying up too late reading. Maybe there was more to this guy than just an irritating coworker after all.

The train came to a halt and an entourage of fresh passengers pressed into the already tight carriage. A chorus of sorry’s buzzed in the air as more and more people elbowed their way into the confined space, pushing you down the train and squeezing the air out of your lungs until you were pressed into a corner, back uncomfortably flush to the torso of a taller body.

The familiar cologne told you all you needed to know and you shut your eyes tightly, sucking on your teeth as you cursed the universe for shredding whatever dignity you had managed to retain.

A glance over your shoulder revealed a preoccupied Namjoon, desperately apologising to someone behind him whose coffee he managed to spill with his inconveniently pointy elbow.

“I’m so sorry man! Oops..sorry again I…”

“So much for ignoring each other,” you snorted, denying the fact that it was you who bumped into him. You wouldn’t give in so easily.

He looked genuinely apologetic, swinging his arms wildly but only managing to make the situation worse by very nearly smacking an older lady square in the head. His height had its downsides, clearly.

“Sorry…” he began, ready to launch into another apologetic spiel. “Oh.” Except, he deadpanned when he finally looked down and saw none other than yourself staring straight back up at him.

His eyes narrowed smugly. “Well, well, well.”

You simply laughed, nodding towards the evidence of his clumsiness. “Are you on a secret coffee spilling mission today?”

You expected him to throw something back at you, to start another endless fight about who was at fault. Except Namjoon wasn’t listening. His eyes widened comically when he noticed how your lower back pressed into his torso, glancing left then right and sighing nervously when he realised there was no space to squeeze into. He was trapped between you and the wall with no where to go.

“I-it was an accident…” Namjoon seemed sheepish, scratching at the back of his neck anxiously. Why was he so flustered all of a sudden? You’d never seen him like this, so unlike the cocky bastard you’d come to know as Kim Namjoon.

Unless…bingo! You had won. He was the problem and this was proof enough of his clumsy, idiotic ways!

“You should learn to be more careful-”

You were cut short when the train suddenly jerked wildly, sending you flying forwards. Great, you thought, Y/N 0, Balance 2. Your feet fumbled beneath your own weight, eyes screwed shut, bracing for impact against the cold, metal floor of the train.

Before gravity could take hold of you, a large hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you upright. The gesture allowed you to find your balance again, a sigh of relief tumbling from your chest as you gained your bearings.

“Woah there,” Namjoon’s lips were against your ear now, breath hot against your cheek. “What were you saying about being careful?”

“O-oh…” You willed yourself to open your eyes, to ignore the chills that crept up your spine when his nose brushed your hair just barely. You tried to pry yourself out of his hold. “It was an accident, I-”

“Look who came crawling right back. Knew it wouldn’t take long.” There was the cocky bastard again. The underlying implications of his words made you shiver, as if he wanted you to come back. Wanted to punish you for being wrong.

His body was warm - no it was hot, his palm burning the exposed skin of your waist where your blouse had ridden up in the scuffle. You could feel his heart pulse against your back and it took all your self control to stop your body from melting into his sturdy form, from delighting in his embrace. If he were to just move his hands down, down, down…

No! You were not about to imagine the guy you hated with a passion grabbing your ass on the goddamn train.

The train heaved again, Namjoon’s grip tightening even further and you silently thanked him for it as you felt your entire body turn to putty in his grasp. Your hand had found its way to his thigh, squeezing embarrassingly hard and sending your head spinning when you felt the firm muscles that tensed beneath your touch.

If you didn’t know any better you would say you were having the same effect on Namjoon. His lips had fallen dangerously close to your neck, almost as if he was debating pressing them to the flushed skin.

Don’t be ridiculous, you chastised yourself, you just need to get laid, clearly. He’s enjoying this because you’re letting him win.

No matter how much your pride meant to you, his effect was becoming too much.

Enough was enough. You needed to get out of his arms, out of this train and most of all you needed to get him out of your head. You wriggled a little, desperate to free yourself before you literally jumped his bones. Of course you had thought about this before, thought about how it would feel to be pressed up against Namjoon. Except usually there were less clothes separating you and you were at least on a bed…

STOP! YOU HATE HIM, YOU HATE HIM, YOU-

No matter how hard you squirmed, Namjoon’s arms only tightened, holding you to him as the train rattled down the tracks. Your ass was trapped against his thigh and you tried to ignore the pulse in your heat that had begun to alert you of just how good it would feel between your legs.

Just then you felt Namjoon stiffen as your ass glided over his crotch - and if you weren’t so focused on the way his breath ghosted across your neck when you did, you may have missed the way it hitched slightly, almost as if he was swallowing a groan.

“Y/N,” he whispered harshly, as if to issue a warning. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?” You spoke a little to loudly, nearly averting the attention of fellow passengers when you tried to claw at the vice like grip that squeezed your middle tightly. “Let me go!”

“Hush.”

“No!” You moved your ass again and this time he let out a noise; a groan of either pain or annoyance, you couldn’t tell.

“Seriously! Hush.”

Suddenly, his fingers gripped your hips so roughly you were sure they would bruise. You enjoyed it a little too much, the action making you light headed. It felt far too intimate to be friendly, only confirmed when you felt it. Something firm against the small of your back.

Was he…hard?

“What the fuck Namjoon?” You whispered hurriedly, glancing around to see if anyone else was aware of the erection that was now all you could focus on, blatantly obvious as it pulsed against the top of your ass.

The train came to a sudden halt, doors swinging open to allow a hoard of people to scramble off. Cool air hit your hot face. Maybe you’d be able to breathe again if you weren’t left breathless by the way Namjoon’s heart beat rapidly against your shoulder blades, all too aware of the raging arousal that felt so hard you imagined it would be painful.

Before you could push away and scream at him about how inappropriate this situation was - even though, to your dismay, your thoughts were clouded with visions far from appropriate - Namjoon was spinning your body around, pinning you against the wall with an audible thud, slotting his body between your trembling legs.

Suddenly, all thoughts of proving him wrong once and for all were forgotten.

You hissed. “Seriously what the fuck Namjoon-”

“What you should be saying,” He muttered, pausing to let his tongue snake out to wet his parted lips. “Is thank you Namjoon.”

“What for?” You gasped, trying and failing once again to wriggle out of his grasp.

His eyes were darker than you’d ever seen them, glazed over with what you recognised as want. “Thank you for saving my ass when I nearly fell in front of the entire subway.” You swallowed thickly, desperately trying to close your legs to relieve the hot, wet ache that was beginning to throb between them but to no avail, Namjoon keeping them open with a large palm around your inner thigh. “And thank you for not fucking said ass right here against the train door.”

Your head fell back with a slight gasp, choking on a moan that was utterly inappropriate for such a public setting. The train began to move again and you glanced up and down the carriage warily, surprised to see only two young men remained; one engrossed in a comic, the other resting his eyes and thankfully both too occupied to notice the way Namjoon stared at you with a look of arousal so intimidating you had to break away from his stare.

“N-Namjoon we s-shouldn’t…”

“Shouldn’t what baby?” Maybe it was the sudden use of a pet name or the gentle but firm way his thumb stroked your thigh, so close to the lace of your panties you were sure the slight touch alone nearly made you lose it. “Shouldn’t make you wet on the train?”

“Y-yeah…”

“Well I guess you should have thought of that before you got me hard, huh?” You let out a shaky breath, blouse falling down your shoulder slightly but before you could adjust it, Namjoon took the opportunity to place an open mouthed kiss to your collarbone and then to the side of your neck and then to the lobe of your ear. The way his teeth grazed your skin made you shiver, skin burning hot with want against the icy cold metal of the train. “Should’ve thought of that before you got me all worked up at the office today.”

“T-today?”

“Yeah, today.” He shook his head disapprovingly, tilting your chin with his forefinger as his eyes traveled down to your lips. “And every single other fucking day.”

Is that the reason why he was always so pissed?

“When you walk in in that goddamn white blouse and call me out. In front of everyone?” Perhaps you weren’t so subtle after all… “I swear you do it on purpose. I swear you want to make me mad.”

“N-no, I…” Your voice trailed off.

“Is that why you make such a fuss baby?” He continued to interrogate. “This is why you’re a problem,” He hissed under his breath, pressing your palm around his twitching bulge. “Because you are always giving me problems.”

Your eyes widened, arousal guiding your body to palm him through his trousers against the will of resistance from your head.

“Do you know how many times I’ve wanted to fuck you in front of the entire office? How many times I’ve wanted to put you in your fucking place? God you get me so angry sometimes,” He ran an exasperated hand through his hair. Your breathing was ragged now, almost as broken as his. “How many times I’ve jerked off in the bathroom thinking about how hot you look when you’re mad?”

You’d be lying if Namjoon wasn’t the focus of your own fantasies after a couple of glasses of wine and a “pamper night”.

His lips curved up into a smirk as the words made sense in your head, stifling a dark chuckle when your eyes widened in realisation. "So that’s why you’re always riling me up?” You managed to breathe.

“I literally almost blew my load when you stormed out today.” He closed his eyes, swallowing hard. His lips were inches from yours and it was taking everything in you to resist leaning in and connecting them, focusing on the throb in your heat instead as a distraction. “You seriously don’t know anything, do you?”

The train came to a sudden stop, doors ripping open almost as fast as Namjoon jumped away from your body. His absence left a cold void where he had hovered over you and you shakily stood upright, glancing at the floor to avoid any funny looks from the passengers leaving the train. You watched as four pairs of shoes scuffled off, heart beating a little faster now you were completely alone.

A few moments passed in silence and you didn’t dare look at Namjoon. You were still trying to wrap your head around his admission. Namjoon’s asshole behaviour was a ploy to make you mad? On purpose? Because he wanted you?

The doors slammed shut, train moving again with a clunk and before you could register what was happening, Namjoon was on you again, dragging you towards the row of seats that were now completely empty. You had the entire carriage to yourselves and Namjoon was clearly intent on taking advantage of the fact.

You were straddling him in seconds, his hands sliding down to cup your ass as he held your heat directly above his throbbing bulge. You gasped at the contact, feeling the way your panties clung to your sticky heat while you desperately tried to grind down onto his lap, eager for any form of relief.

Namjoon tutted at this, prompting you to raise your gaze from between your legs to take in the lazy smile that rested upon his face. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this? To see you all needy above me?”

He was right, you were so needy it felt like you might combust if you didn’t get some friction on your throbbing clit right now, uncaring that you were in public. His throat sounded hoarse, evidence of his own struggle to resist you (if the tent in his pants wasn’t already evidence enough) and the broken sound of his voice alone was enough to have you clenching around nothing.

It was rare that someone managed to get you this riled up this quickly. It was as if the tension that had been building between you finally reached its breaking point and the only logical response was to fuck it out. Hard. Still, if someone had told you an hour ago that you would be close to begging Namjoon of all people to touch you, you would have called them crazy.

Your forehead came down to rest against his shoulder in defeat. His grip was too strong, stopping you from getting what you wanted, and you let out a cry of frustration. “Please…”

“Please what, baby? Use your words.”

“Please…” Your voice was muffled by his black shirt which you tugged at eagerly. “Please fuck me.”

For the first time, Namjoon’s resolve broke and he let out a guttural moan at your words. He didn’t have time to respond before the train jerked again, sending you flying into his chest and to your delight, straight onto his crotch. “Ugh, fuck.” The whine that left your lips made Namjoon’s cock throb painfully against the front of his trousers, his own moan muffled by your hair.

Before you could twist your hips and gain any friction, Namjoon was hoisting you up again, higher this time so he could see the fucked out look on your face. He brushed a few stray hairs behind your ears, watching smugly as you ground against the air with another high pitched whine.

“Look at you. So fucked out and I’ve hardly even touched you.” His hands crept to the hem of your skirt, tugging the garment up so that it sat around your waist, exposing the curve of your ass and the black lacey underwear which nearly made him buck up into your heat. “Want my cock so bad baby?” His hand came down against your ass with an audible slap you were sure would leave a print and you had to bite your hand hard to stop from crying out too loudly. “Mmm, fuck, I wanted to make you wait,” he hummed. “Like I waited to be inside you but…if you want it how about you show daddy how much?”

He nodded for you to get on your knees. You mewled with delight, nearly drooling at the thought of his hot cock sliding in and out of your mouth. The thought of finally pleasuring him.

Your fingers eagerly began to fiddle with the fly of his trousers before one of his big palms stopped your ministrations all together. You looked up at him, confused and frustrated. “Not yet baby. Gotta open wide for daddy first.”

He pressed two fingers to your swollen lips and you sucked them into your hot mouth eagerly, wrapping your tongue around the digits and coating them in a layer of saliva like they were the sweetest popsicle you’d ever tasted. His fingers were salty with sweat but you didn’t care, taking them as far as you could while batting your eyelids at him in a silent beg for something else in your throat.

Namjoon melted into the headrest, completely fucked out as he watched you take his fingers through lidded eyes. He could hardly bare the way his digits disappeared in and out of your mouth, already aching to feel the sensation on his needy cock.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he choked, leaving a loud slap to your ass that flushed at the contact. “I nearly came in my pants.”

You pulled his hand away at the wrist leaving a trail of saliva down your chin. “You could come down my throat if you let me open your p-pants.”

Namjoon squeezed his eyes shut, pulling both your wrists behind your back roughly as the other pushed you down onto your knees until you were eye level with the bulge in his pants. “Don’t say shit you don’t mean,” he nearly stammered. “You’ll regret it.”

“I mean it.” You made quick work of his zipper, palming his hardness through the fabric of his boxers. “Please l-let me suck your cock.” You almost cringed at the words that came out of your mouth, washed in pure disbelief that you were actually on your knees in front of THE Kim Namjoon.

“Then suck.” Disbelief didn’t last for long since his command emptied your mind, losing the ability to think about anything else other than wrapping your lips around him immediately.

Namjoon placed both hands behind his head, resting against the train which vibrated beneath your knees, sending shocks of pleasure through your core when it made light contact.

Without further ado you reached into the open fabric of his pants, hand finally wrapping around something rock hard and blazing hot against your clammy palm, eliciting a hiss from Namjoon at he skin on skin contact. “Finally.” He groaned.

You were unaware of the whimper which left your own lips when Namjoon’s cock finally came into view, heavy against his stomach and raging with desperation to be touched. He was decently long but it was the thickness that made your eyes pop, mouth opening in anticipation and crotch grinding against the ground as you imagined how good it would feel when it finally stretched you out.

Without warning you were running your tongue along the underside of his shaft, enjoying the shaky breath Namjoon let slip when your hand fondled his balls firmly. You gave a few kitten licks to his swollen head, relishing the salty taste of precum that spread across your taste buds.

Your lips wrapped around the tip, sucking gently before sinking further down his length, letting the spit that had begun to fill your mouth cover his cock nicely so he slipped between your lips messily. Namjoon nearly went crazy when you hollowed your cheeks, hands tangling in your hair and making you groan out, desperate for him to take control. To use you.

“Mmmf, fuck yes,” he stammered, barely controlling his hips from bucking into your throat. “Just like that, there’s a good girl.” He pushed your head firmly down his shaft before tugging you off again, the head of his dick barely brushing against your reddened lips. You moaned in approval as he fucked your face, dizzy with the feeling of the ridges of his length on your tongue and his hands in your hair.

Just as you were taking him back into your mouth, the train rocked violently and you found yourself taking more of his cock than you anticipated, the head hitting your throat and making you gag obscenely around his length. Namjoon flew forward, unable to hold back the deep moan that rumbled from his chest when he felt your nose against his public bone. “Fuck baby girl, do that again.”

You obliged, taking him all the way until you gagged.

“So hot, fuck.”

You didn’t know if he was referring to your mouth or the way you dribbled down your own chin, tears pricking your eyes and leaking onto your flushed cheeks as you tried to breathe through your nose when he held you for a few seconds too long at the base of his dick. You pulled off with a pop, gasping for air.

“Sorry,” he panted apologetically. “Got a bit carried away.”

“It’s okay.” You gasped between breaths, wiping your chin with the back of one hand and pumping his slick length with the other, palm sliding lewdly against the sensitive head where your mouth had been. And you meant it - it was okay. You wanted this. Maybe you had just been denying it all along.

“Shit!” Before you could wrap your lips around him again, Namjoon was slapping your hand away, shoving himself back into his pants and pulling you up by your elbow.

“What?” You asked, surprised at his rejection of your mouth. “What is it?”

“Train’s stopping,” He hissed back. “People getting on.”

Sure enough, the doors swung open, allowing a hoard of people to board the train. You pulled your skirt around your ass hurriedly, hoping the disheveled state of your hair and swollen lips wouldn’t give away your arousal to the prying eyes of other passengers.

You kept your eyes on your shoes, waiting for the crowd to seat themselves around yourself and Namjoon before you dared meet his eyes again. He smirked, tugging his tie to hang loose around his neck and the action alone had you rubbing your legs together for relief, glancing around nervously to see if anybody caught your blatant show of arousal.

The train started up again and you reached for the bar above you hurriedly, not wanting to draw any more attention to yourself by losing your footing for a fourth time that day.

Fortunately, Namjoon came to your rescue again, pulling you into his lap with a plop. Your heat grazed his thigh, sopping folds only separated by the thin layer of your sticky panties and you were sure you would draw blood which how hard you bit back the loud moan that almost left your lips.

“Can’t stay on your feet today, huh?” He clicked his tongue, breath hot against your ear as he wrapped his arms around your waist. Your chest swelled when he rested his chin on your shoulder. The embrace felt nice.

“Guess I prefer being on my knees when you’re around.” Namjoon’s breath hitched, jaw tightening against your neck.

“Is that so?” Before you could respond he was slotting his leg between your thighs, tensing the muscles to create some friction against your pulsing clit. The action offered welcome relief, your folds begging to be touched in any way after what felt like hours of denial. “Move.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, grinding slowly onto the thighs you had dreamed about ever since Namjoon walked into the office months ago.

You moved your hips in slow circles, the coarse fabric of Namjoon’s trousers rubbing your heat in just the right way that had you breathing deeply as you tried to stop yourself from losing control and sitting on his cock then and there in front of everyone.

The fact that you were surrounded by people was exhilarating, the idea that someone could look over any second and see you creating a wet patch on Namjoon’s lap making you dizzy with lust.

Namjoon’s fingers grazed your arms gently, working you through the pleasure as he tensed his thigh again and again, pressure on your clit causing broken moans to catch in your throat. At this point you were completely gone, everything around you unimportant as you focused on chasing the feeling building in your lower stomach.

Suddenly, Namjoon grabbed your hips, stilling your ministrations despite the hushed whine of protest you directed at him as discreetly as you could. “Please.” You whispered, tears threatening to prick your eyes as you felt the feeling of your high getting further and further away with every second your core throbbed still against his legs. You were so desperate you would have done anything to reach it, tired and frustrated of being denied any pleasure.

“Hush baby girl,” Namjoon’s thumbs gently caressed your waist. “Take this off, such a good girl for me hmm?” He began tugging at the blazer that covered your shoulders, dragging it down your arms and throwing it over your lap instead.

Embarrassment flushed your cheeks when you looked down at the the coffee stain on your blouse, visible to everyone and anyone now Namjoon removed the thing covering it. “N-namjoon my blouse-”

“Shhh,” he hushed, tucking your hair behind your ear so you could hear his gravelly whispers clearly. “Let me make you feel good.”

“W-what…oh!” Your eyes bulged with surprise when you felt Namjoon’s fingers slip beneath the blazer that hid his wandering hands from prying eyes, toying with the top of your panties teasingly. “Namjoon! W-we can’t-”

His index finger slipped beneath the fabric, finding your clit immediately and rubbing hard, fast circles into the swollen nub. “So wet baby, so good.”

Arousal dripped from his voice and you let your head fall back onto his shoulder, eyes squeezed shut as his fingers worked you up into a squirming mess on top of him. If anyone sees they’ll just think you’re resting your eyes, you managed to convince yourself, all rational thoughts lost to the feeling of Namjoon sliding up and down your folds.

You let out a breathy oh when you felt his finger circle your entrance. “Joon,” you warned. If he filled you with even one finger you were sure you would cum on the spot in front of the whole train.

He smiled against your neck, at your neediness or the nickname you couldn’t tell before he was pushing two fingers into your heat to the knuckle. You were wet enough for them to slide straight in, cold metal of the pretty rings he always donned rubbing your walls deliciously and making you grind down onto his hand. His thumb found your clit and you dug your nails into his thighs, panting obviously now as you tried to hold on to what was left of your sanity.

“I-I can’t,” you gasped, noticing the sideways glances you were getting from the couple sat opposite you. They must have known what was going on. They must have known Namjoon was knuckle deep into your wetness as you clenched around him desperate for release, coil tightening more and more in your belly.

You were so wet that every thrust of his hand made a lewd squelch, an instant give away of Namjoon’s affect on you and you prayed the loud screech of the train’s wheels against the track was enough to hide it from the other passengers.

Namjoon was going faster now, leaving small kisses against the nape of your neck as he tried to hold it together. Until, finally, he couldn’t anymore. “I can’t n-need more.” You felt something in him snap at your keening, his hand leaving you clenching around nothing all of a sudden as he tugged your skirt back around your thighs.

“Wha-” You didn’t have time to finish before Namjoon was jerking you to your feet, shoving the forgotten manuscript from earlier into your hands as he pushed you towards the train bathroom. He kept his crotch pressed tightly against your ass, probably to hide his raging arousal from the people around you although his less than subtle way of maneuvering you both into the same bathroom stall gave it away instantly.

The door slammed behind you a little too loudly, making you wince. “Fuck Namjoon, now everyone knows.” You whined, allowing him to push you until the backs of your legs gave in, your ass falling aginst the sink. The bathroom was cramped, barely enough room for the two of you, so Namjoon went about making the best of the space by hovering over you with the same feverish want he had earlier except this time he couldn’t control the way his hands trembled as he eagerly ripped your coffee stained blouse open.

He let out a gasp when he finally got his hands under neath your bralette, thumbs sliding across your agonisingly hard buds in circles until you were squirming to feel his hands everywhere, anywhere. “God, you’re fucking beautiful.” You couldn’t help the heat that rushed to your face, something funny flipping in your stomach that was more than just arousal. Before you could worry if his heavy palms felt the way your heart beat a little faster at his words, his lips were skimming tantalisingly across the top of your breasts, finally unhooking your bra. Your head fell back in a choked gasp when his teeth grazed your nipples momentarily before he was swirling his tongue across them, soothing the sting that felt deliciously cold despite the hot and musky bathroom air.

You felt his lips begin the journey down, not quite reaching your belly button with his surprisingly gentle ministrations before your hands were tangling in the collar of his shirt and pulling him up to meet your eyes again. Your nipples rubbed against the coarse fabric and you fiddled with the buttons, desperate to feel his sweaty skin against yours. Your hot breath mingled. “Namjoon,” You managed to pant. “Let me see you too.”

His touch still lingered on your chest when he brushed your roaming hands away to replace them with his own, buttons quickly flying open allowing more skin to come into view beneath the dim lights. You couldn’t help but let your hands snake across his toned chest, sighing in delight when he lets you shake the shirt from where it still sat around his shoulders. You were pleasantly surprised to find his tummy soft, a perfect contrast to his muscular upper body.

He raised your gaze with a finger beneath your chin, pausing for a moment to run a questioning glance from your lips to your eyes and back to your lips. “Can I?”

You almost choked on your own spit, practically salivating to feel his lips against your own. “Kiss me?” You murmured. “Please.”

Namjoon took no time to oblige, finally crashing your lips together in a tangle of teeth and tongue. A wave of relief emptied your mind of anything other than the feeling of Namjoon’s body finally melting against your own and you realise you’ve been waiting for this - no needed this -  for longer than you originally thought. Namjoon smiled into the kiss and you felt your heart swell a little, his nose brushing your own gently in contrast to the way his hands greedily grabbed your ass. His lips were slightly chapped as they roughly caressed your own and you sighed contentedly into the kiss, tangling one hand in his hair, the other slipping down to the buckle of his belt.

His tongue finally gained permission, slipping into your mouth as you made work with the button of his trousers. You could barely focus, Namjoon’s lips all you could feel. Trousers now at his ankles, you fumbled to slip your hand beneath the waistband of his grey boxer briefs, eyes widening at the groan which rumbled from Namjoon’s chest into your mouth when your small hand finally wrapped around his pulsing length skin-on-skin.

You almost whimper at how hot and heavy he is in your palm, even harder than before if that was possible, the wetness smeared around his head evidence of just how worked up he was. His mouth stilled against yours, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to resist bucking into your hand. The knowledge that it was you that made him this hard, you that had him breathless against your lips sent another rush to your own heat.

Then he’s kissing you again, softly this time as his hand comes to rest on top of your own. “Wait, wait.” He murmurs between crashes of your lips. “I want to feel you before I come.”

You reluctantly retract your hand, agreeing that you wanted- needed - to feel him and quickly because quite honestly you were close already. Just his lips were enough, just wondering how they would feel around your clit and how good his tongue would be as it licked a stripe up your pulsing folds was almost enough to throw you into sensory overload.

“Can I take these off?” His thumbs hooked beneath the band of your panties. He looked at you with a genuine concern and you thought it was sweet. Namjoon was in control but he asked with a sincerity that said your comfort was important to him and it made something feel right about this, something safe. You gave his nose a kiss in affirmation, nodding gently. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

Namjoon placed small, affectionate pecks to the corners of your mouth as he rolled the garment down your legs, letting you kick them all the way off as he rubbed gentle circles into your thighs. His eyes were still black with lust but they seemed gentle as he sucked in a breath, taking you in fully for the first time. It was almost easy to forget that this was the same guy who made you suck his cock on a public train fifteen minutes ago.

He connected your lips again in a soft, slow kiss, hand cupping your face as his thumb ran across your bottom lip. “You know, I envisioned it to be more romantic than…this.” He gestured to the dingy bathroom you’d almost forgotten existed, too busy getting lost in Namjoon. “Sorry…” He bit his lip, eyes averting your own bashfully.

Your heart swelled with more than just arousal.

“Namjoon?” He looked up at you again through his lashes. “There will be plenty of time for that. For romance.” A small smile crept onto your face.

“Yeah?” Namjoon’s grin gave away his elation at your statement.

“Yeah,” Your voice was but a breath. “For now though I just need you inside me.”

Namjoon’s arms scooped you up, slamming you against the wall for the second time that day and knocking away your breath as he wrapped your leg around his waist. “That I can do.” He hummed against your neck mischievously.

By now your heat was dripping, wetness making its way down your inner thighs as you braced yourself for the fullness of Namjoon’s cock. He felt girthy in your hand and your hole clenched at the thought of it stretching you open.

The small room was stuffy, barely enough shared air to breathe but that made it all the more intimate. Hands woven into his hair, you felt the way his chest rose and fell against your own as he took his length into his hand, guiding the blunt head to your entrance. He seemed pained as he squeezed the base of his cock, hesitating. “Are you…?”

“We’re good. On the pill.” You got out between laboured breaths of anticipation. “Wait!” You pushed his chest, his face coming into view, laced with worry as he searched your face for any sign of indecision. “What about Yuna?”

His eyes practically bulged before he let out a small chuckle at your concern. “Yuna?”

“Yeah…won’t she be mad?”

“Why would she be?”

“Aren’t you two like…you know?”

Namjoon spluttered. “No! Don’t you think her girlfriendwould be kinda mad if we were?”

Oh. Oh.

“I-”

“Y/N, she was just a way to you know…make you jealous. Truthfully, I was pissed, you wouldn’t even look my way and -”

You cut him off with a peck to his lips. “Okay. It’s okay.”

“It is?”

“Yeah. Now for god’s sake, just fuck me please.”

“With pleasure.”

The head of his cock was back again and you circled your hips, desperate to feel more of it inside of you. Namjoon pressed in slowly, his head falling into the crook of your neck as he finally bottomed out, low moans escaping his lips at the feeling of your tight, velvety walls finally rubbing deliciously against his shaft.

The head of his cock instantly brushed against your sweet spot, sending shivers of pleasure through your heat as you scratched his back wildly. “Please…please ugh! Move!”

Namjoon wasted no time, dragging out nearly all the way before slamming back in to the hilt with a lewd slap. Your folds were so wet each thrust made an embarrassingly loud squelch you were sure could be heard from outside but the way his cock was thick enough to stretch you out just the way you liked it and long enough to hit deeper than his fingers had earlier rendered you uncaring and speechless.

The pleasure was almost unbearable and you could feel your muscles clenching around him, drawing out a strangled moan against your neck. The action was enough to make him lose all control as he lifted your leg, pressing you into the wall with all his weight and slamming into you at a new angle that gave him access to your clit every time he bottomed out, making you scream with pleasure into the palm of his hand.

“Shit, Y/N,” He hissed, watching through lidded eyes as you lost it beneath him. “You’re going to make me cum if you keep making noises like that. Fuck!” Namjoon was getting sloppy now, barely able to keep his pace as he desperately tried to cling on to the edge while each of your whines made his cock feel like it may explode any second.

“Mmm, cum for me,” you moan, completely lost to the feeling of his hot cock sliding lewdly in and out of you. “Wanna feel you fill me up.”

“Holy fuck,” he stuttered, nearly falling out of you as the pleasure overwhelmed him. “You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of this, being inside you, god.”

So he gets loose lipped when he’s close, huh? Cute.

“Want you to cum with me, fuck.”

His dirty admissions were enough to send you flying over the edge with a cry, his fingers coming between your legs to rub agonising circles into your clit as you rode out your high. Your vision went black, legs trembling and if it weren’t for Namjoon’s strong grip on your thighs you were sure you would nothing but a puddle by now.

“Fuck you got so tight, that’s it. Come for me baby.” A few sloppy strokes later and he was coating your walls with a low groan, connecting your lips in a breathless kiss as you whimper at the feeling of being filled and the overstimulation.

Namjoon presses his sweat slicked forehead against your own as you let your breath mingle, coming down from your highs. As your vision slowly returned, the train jerked, nearly sending you both flying if Namjoon wasn’t there to save you once again.

“Woah there.” He said quietly with a smile. He connected your lips for the nth time and you decided that although it was new you actually - no definitely - liked it. “Be careful.”

You were about to say something playful back before a transport announcement crackled over head.

TRAIN TERMINATING AT NEXT STOP.

You broke away from the kiss with a groan. “Shit shit shit! I’ve missed my stop!”

Breaking away from his grasp you hurriedly try to button up your coffee stained blouse, glancing around to locate your underwear which was out of sight.

“Looking for these?” A piece of fabric hit your chest. Your panties.

His calm demeanour was enough to replace the post orgasmic glow with a familiar feeling of rage towards him.

“Yes I was looking for those - and this is all your fault! If you didn’t take them off in the first place I wouldn’t be in this mess and this stupid fucking blouse would be clean and-”

Namjoon cut you off by pulling you against his chest, peppering your face in playful kisses as you tried to squirm out of his grasp. You gave up eventually, enjoying the warmth of his bare chest and nearly giggling with surprise when he placed a peck to both your cheeks.

“You…are…so…fucking…cute…when…you’re…mad.” Each word was punctuated with a kiss and you hit him away playfully.

His sudden change in behaviour took you by surprise. You had never seen this side of him before. A side that wasn’t a complete and utter dick (or in more recent discoveries, a possessive, rough love maker).

“I recall you saying I was hot when I was mad.”

“Yeah, but you’re also really fucking cute.” You wrapped your arms around his waist, looking up at him with a pout. “See cute.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, earning a chuckle as he began to buckle his own trousers. “You know, the next stop is mine so you could always just come back to my place?”

“Huh?”

A blush crept onto his face as he rushed to explain himself. “No, not like that…unless you wanted to- no! What I meant was, you could come to my place and I could wash your blouse for you.”

You finished tidying up your skirt, watching with amusement as he scratched the back of his neck nervously. “I don’t have enough spare cash for a taxi.”

“I’ll drive you home!” He said quickly. “You know, if you want me to…”

“Okay.” You said with a small smile. “Besides, I think I kind of owe you.” You nod towards the pityful remains of Namjoon’s manuscript which lay sodden in the sink, discarded at some point during your excitement earlier.

“Then this makes us even.”

“Deal.”

“Now, let’s hope the train is empty and if it’s not, get ready to run!”

#bts smut #namjoon smut #bts fanfic #kwordsmiths #btsguild #thebtstown #bts #namjoon fanfiction #bts fanfiction #bts imagine #namjoon imagine #bts scenario #namjoon scenario #!!!!! this was longer than i expected but whew what a ride to write #also!! i have ideas for a sequel POTENTIALLY so lemme know if u liked it heh #my writing #fic: all aboard

[captain-s-rogers]

Have A Little Faith In Me

(gif credit to the creator)

Part Two

Master List

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC // Clint Barton x OFC Word Count: 2,090 Warnings: none? A/N: Here’s the second part of the rewrite of my first ever Marvel series! Special thanks to the best bestie in the world, @arrowsandmixtapes​ , for making sure all of my work isn’t absolute garbage! If you want to be added to my tag list please let me know! Feedback is cool :)

The few days that passed before Steve called to arrange their date were nearly torturous. Sophia checked her phone every few minutes, tried to keep as many calls to her office phone as she could, and wondered how a dance and a drink had left such an impact on her. 

When Steve did finally call, the both of them agreed not to wait any longer; they scheduled the date for that very evening. Steve suggested a restaurant in Little Italy, and Sophia quickly agreed. She was familiar with the place and simply thinking of the menu had her mouth watering. 

“I really need to go shopping,” Sophia groaned, falling back onto her bed next to where Lucy was seated. Sophia had just torn through her entire wardrobe and, no matter what Lucy told her would be pretty and perfect, not one outfit seemed right to Sophia. 

Lucy got up and surveyed the contents of her friend’s closet. She chuckled, “You don’t need to go shopping, you just need to breathe. You’re nervous and excited, so nothing looks right. Tell me again, where are you going?”

“Luciano’s, in Little Italy? You went there with me once before, that time Mom came into the city for her birthday. It’s small but not necessarily casual dining. Remember, she had too many glasses of wine that night and kept calling you Luciano? She couldn’t believe you wouldn’t tell her you had a restaurant named after you.”

Lucy remembered, and she giggled at the memory as she thumbed through the dresses in Sophia’s closet. After a brief consideration, she pulled out a green skater dress and a cropped black cardigan. She put them on a hanger together and held the outfit up for Sophia to see. 

“He’s tall, so you can get away with pairing this with those cute black pumps I’m always trying to steal,” Lucy noted. “And this shade of green always compliments your complexion.”

“That. Is. Perfect! I can’t believe you managed to find something in all that mess.” She took the dress and sweater from her friend and immediately stripped of her comfy clothes so she could get dressed for her date. 

“Well,” Lucy replied, reaching to put the hanger back in a free space on the rod, “I do know you pretty well, and I’m not freaking out at the moment.”Lucy winked at her friend, then left Sophia alone to finish getting ready. 

It took another hour or so, but Sophia was finally dressed, hair and makeup done. She had decided Lucy was right about shoes and had slid her feet into her favorite pair of black pumps. Once she had packed a few essentials into the clutch that complemented her outfit, she let Lucy know she was headed to meet Steve. 

“I won’t be out too late, promise.”

Lucy laughed. “Let’s hope you are. Have fun, be safe!”

The cab ride from their shared apartment in Manhattan to the agreed upon restaurant in Little Italy was nearly thirty minutes, and Sophia was brimming with excitement. Her nerves were as active as ever; her hand shook when she handed the driver a few bills for fare plus a decent tip. 

After working her way through the crowd at the front of the restaurant, Sophia approached the hostess. 

“I’m meeting someone, we have a reservation.” She tried to ignore the way her heart fluttered at the idea of giving someone’s name besides Lucy’s or her own. “Rogers, party of two.”

The hostess reviewed the reservation list and nodded. She plucked two menus from a nearby basket and smiled at Sophia. 

“Of course, we have your table waiting. Follow me, right this way.”

The table was in the middle of the restaurant, but still spaced out enough from the others that they would be able to hold a conversation easily enough without the background noise making it difficult. Two taper candles in pretty holders were lit on either side of a votive of flowers in the middle of the table.

The waiter was quick to approach; Sophia let him know that she was waiting for her date. 

“He shouldn’t be too far behind, though.” She glanced at the drinks section of the menu. “Would it be all right if I ordered a glass of wine while I wait?”

“Yes, of course. What would you like?”

Sophia gave the young man her wine order, then sat back to peruse the food options and wait for Steve to arrive. 

Choosing black dress pants and a pale, blue button down shirt had been easy for Steve when it came to dressing for his date with Sophia. The black pants seemed appropriate for the occasion and venue, and he knew that the blue shirt would bring out his eyes. The tie, on the other hand, was the tough choice. He had narrowed it down to three, holding each one up in front of him, eventually narrowing the choice down to two. Before he could eliminate another choice, a knock sounded loudly from his apartment door. With a frustrated sigh, Steve tossed the ties on his bed and headed to answer the door. Hopefully it was some kid selling candy he could toss a five dollar bill at and go back to his ties. 

The knocking persisted, even as he walked toward the door. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.”

He was ready to give the visitor the brushoff, as he was already running a few minutes later than he would have liked, but he stopped abruptly when he saw S.H.I.E.L.D. director Nick Fury standing in the hallway. 

“How often do you make house calls?” Steve quipped. 

Fury walked into the apartment without waiting for an invitation. “When someone isn’t answering their phone, a house call sometimes becomes necessary.”

Steve groaned. He had left his phone on the kitchen table while ironing his shirt earlier, and hadn’t thought about it again -- he was too distracted thinking of Sophia. 

“Yeah, I was ironing a shirt and --”

“Suit up, Cap. We need you.” Fury’s interruption didn’t leave much room for argument or discussion, but that hadn’t stopped Steve before. 

He ran his fingers through his hair. “Are you sure you need me? I’m all for answering the call of duty, sir, but I kind of -- I have a date.”

The reason for his hesitancy seemed weak, even to his own ears, once it was out in the open. He was Captain America, after all. The mission should have been his priority. 

“The head of the UN has been taken hostage in Russia, so unfortunately, your love connection is going to have to be put on hold. This is time sensitive, Captain.”

Steve went to the kitchen for his phone, but Fury stood in his path. Like a bothered teenager, Steve rolled his eyes, remembered who he was and what he stood for, and went for his suit and shield. 

Thirty minutes had passed, and there was still no sign of Steve. Sophia checked her phone, disappointed that she had no messages waiting to tell her what might be holding him up. She ordered another glass of wine and waited, answering some work emails from her mobile, hoping Steve would come and interrupt her. 

“Is your other party still on his way, miss? Would you like to go ahead and order?”

This was the third time the waiter had asked. She checked the time to see she had been sitting here alone for an hour now, no word from Steve. Apparently, she had been stood up. She ordered another glass of wine, a double order of garlic knots to go, then paid her check and caught a taxi home. 

She had been excited and nervous on the way to Luciano’s, but now Sophia felt irate and hurt. Steve had seemed so eager to go out with her after they danced -- hell, even when they had talked to set up the date earlier that day -- she was baffled by the fact that he hadn’t shown up. She wondered silently if she should have waited a little longer, but told herself not to be silly. She’d waited an hour. That was plenty long enough. If Steve Rogers was the kind of man who played a woman and set a date without the intention of showing up, Sophia decided she was better off. 

When she finally returned home, all Sophia wanted to do was have a few glasses of wine, take a hot bath, and go to bed. She sighed as she let herself into the apartment; no doubt Lucy would still be awake and have a lot of questions about her night. 

“Brought home garlic knots,” Sophia announced, setting the box on the coffee table in front of where her friend sat on the couch. 

“Yum,” Lucy said, perking up at just the smell. She immediately got into the box, picking up one of the knots and tearing a piece off. “Delicious.”

Sophia smiled. “I thought you’d like them.”

“You’re home way earlier than I thought,” Lucy frowned. “Ooh, did he turn out to be a dud? Did the conversation suck? Is he just good looks with nothing to back them up?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Sophia sighed, toeing off her shoes, “he never showed.”

“You’re kidding!” Lucy exclaimed, tiny crumbs of garlic knot sputtering out with her surprise. She covered her mouth and apologized. Shaking her head, she reached for another garlic knot. “You know what, Soph, fuck that guy. He clearly doesn’t deserve you. If he knew --” 

“Luce, I love you, and I appreciate the my-best-friend-deserves-the-world sentiments, but right now I only want to have some wine, take a long, hot bath, and go to bed.”

“Soph...” 

“Really, I’ll be fine. It’s not the first time I’ve been stood up, I’m sure it won’t be the last.” 

“I know, but this guy is -- he’s, like, stupidly handsome.”

“Lucy.” 

The other girl winced. “Sorry, you’re right. I’ll shut up about it. Go get your bath ready, I’ll open a bottle of wine.” 

The mission to save the head of the UN was flawlessly accomplished. Steve had gotten the man out of the hostage situation safely, sat tiredly through the debriefing at S.H.I.E.L.D headquarters and was now finally back home. He peeled out of his suit, set his shield against the wall, and turned to retrieve some pajama pants and a t-shirt from his dresser. He saw the shirt and pants and two ties discarded on his bed and sighed to himself. One victory, one loss for the night. Good thing he didn’t need much sleep at this point; he wasn’t going to get any. 

He went to the refrigerator for a drink and spotted his phone on the table. He was still getting used to the device, which was likely why he hadn’t thought much of its absence while he was getting dressed, and why calling Sophia hadn’t been his first thought coming into the apartment. Not to mention, every clock in the house was telling him it was after three in the morning; calling now would be unwelcomed for a number of reasons, he was sure. 

“Should have just called her anyway,” Steve sighed, wishing he hadn’t obeyed that part of Fury’s orders. 

But, if it was this hour, maybe she was sleeping and wouldn’t answer. With a fervent hope that her voicemail would pick up and he wouldn’t bother her while she was sleeping, Steve found Sophia’s number in his contacts. He pressed the green button to make the call, letting out a relieved whoosh of breath when her voicemail picked up after a few rings. 

“Sophia, it’s Steve. Steve Rogers. I’m so sorry about not making our date tonight. Something important came up, and I couldn’t get out of it. I swear, I wouldn’t have gone if it wasn’t an emergency. Is there any way you’d want to reschedule? I would still love to take you out. Just give me a call back and let me know either way. It’s Steve, by the way, not sure if I mentioned that. Right, okay.”

He hit the red button to end the call and tossed the phone away. The voicemail was a feeble attempt to get her to talk to him, and Steve could only hope that she would at least agree to talk to him so he could do a better job of apologizing when he wasn’t a couple hours out from a mission and his mind wasn’t so worn out.

@arrowsandmixtapes​​ @the-murder-strut-murdered-me​​ @growningupgeek​​ @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​​ @captain-rogers-beard​​ @kitkatd7​​ @patzammit​​ @sagechanoafterdark​​ @what-is-your-plan-today​​

#steve rogers #clint barton #steve rogers fanfic #clint barton fanfic