rated m for dirty talk, creampie kink, idk i just wanted to write a jimin soulmate au but whoops my finger slipped?? :/
recommended music: where the lines overlap by paramore! it’s my favourite paramore song EVER :)
Summary: there’s an ancient Chinese folklore of the
red strings of fate that connect one person to another. These two people
connected by the red thread are destined lovers, and the magical, invisible
thread may tangle or stretch, but it will never sever. You’ve never believed in
these mystical threads of fate like everyone else, but one day you suddenly
gain the ability to see the threads connecting the people around you.
The door slams shut, jolting you out of your peaceful
reverie. If it had been anyone else, you’d be beyond annoyed to be interrupted
while doing your weekly readings, but not when it’s him. The person in question
knocks gently on your door before peeking his head in, strands of his bleached
dove gray hair spilling over into his eyes, and you can’t help but smile at the
sight of him.
“Hey, I got dinner on the way back,” Jimin’s cheeks
round out into a smile that reaches all the way to the crinkles at the corners
of his eyes. Every time he comes home he’s constantly sweaty and worn out, but
it’s part and parcel of the life he chose as a dance major.
Tossing aside your notes, you follow him out into the
small dining area of your shared apartment, still in your sweats. When he makes
a move to sit at the table, you give him a playful swat on his chest.
“Shouldn’t you wash up first? If I’d known you were
this gross, I wouldn’t have agreed to room with you two years ago,” you pretend
to wrinkle your nose at his sweaty form, all while ignoring the way his shirt
is moulded to his chest.
“Says the one still in her sweatpants. Looks like
someone isn’t that hungry tonight,” Jimin smirks back, reaching across the
table to grab the box of takeout that you were in the midst of opening. “I
could totally do with those extra calories after Hoseok hyung cracked down on
“I’m just kidding Chim,” you hastily snatch back the
takeout box just as he opens the lid of it, the delicious smell of hot noodles
and fried pork slices wafting into the air. “Oh my god this smells so good,
I’ve been starving all day!”
“Wait, Jinwoo didn’t come by? It’s your free day
right? I thought he usually comes by to hang out in the afternoons,” Jimin
pauses in his chewing to study your expression carefully, but you’re too busy
inhaling mouthfuls of stir fried noodles.
“Jinwoo oppa said he was busy today,” you say around
a mouthful of vegetables and noodles. “He has that huge midterm coming up next
week, so I told him he should stay home and study.”
Jimin looks like he’s about to say something snide
about your boyfriend of nearly 6 months, so you stuff a large piece of meat
into his mouth instead.
“Yes I know, he was busy last week and the week
before that too, but we’ve been dating for a while so we don’t need to see each
other so often. We’re over that honeymoon stage already.” You say in a
dismissive tone, focusing on chasing the remaining few strands of noodles
around with your chopsticks and avoiding his gaze.
The cool air whipping at your skin made a shiver spread along your spine, hands rubbing at your biceps as your teeth chattered behind your pressed together lips. Loud laughter and screams filled the air, the night lit up by warm orange hues of carnival rides and haunted houses. Your feet felt stiff, trapped in a pair of uncomfortable sneakers you regretted wearing, eyes glued to the back of Minseok’s head as he told your friends something apparently hilarious. It was far too cold out to be stuck in a stupid line for a stupid haunted house in a tank top and torn up skinny jeans. You were too annoyed to continue being stuck in front of Chanyeol and Sehun as they flirted with a group of girls behind you, Chanyeol’s cologne wafting to your nose whenever he moved his arms about.
have you ever been in one of those moods where you just want to grab everything and rip it from the walls and break everything because you feel broken and you want to scream and kick and cry because nothing feels right and it’s all wrong and you don’t feel right and i don’t know anymore.
PSA: IT IS UP TO YOU TO DECIDE IF YOU WOULD FORGIVE THE BOYS OR NOT!
— Once Jin arrived home from a frustrating studio day full of being unable to correctly get a dance move down, his smile didn’t return like it typically did at the sight of you. You carried your usual grin, expecting to see your chipper boyfriend. Once he walked through the front door, you knew something was bothering him. Standing up to greet Jin, he turned to you and let out all of the emotions he held in during practice. He exploded in the moment, and it left you speechless, having never seen Jin so upset.
“I don’t want to talk to you! I want to go sleep; can’t you see that?! Will you just leave me alone!”
A few hours after the words escaped his lips, you were asleep on the couch with tear-stained cheeks. He hobbled out of your shared room wrapped in a blanket, sniffling as he regretted every word he had said. Once he saw you lying uncomfortably on your sofa, he sat down on the floor next to you and gently shook your arm. There he explained that he didn’t mean to be so harsh, and that he would make it up to you.
“I’m sorry jagiya; I went too far and you didn’t deserve that. Will you forgive me?”
YOONGI ( SUGA )
— Yoongi would have spent thirteen hours staring at his computer screen, headphones on, and completely blocking the world out. You would have spent the entire day with some close friends, which happened to be of the opposite gender. Yoongi wouldn’t have known, even if you did tell him; he was too busy working. You would have been more considerate of his feelings, if he hadn’t ignored you the past few days. You understood that he worked hard and you loved him for that, but he wouldn’t even say thank you whenever you handed him food.
“Where have you been?! I was worried sick; you wouldn’t answer your phone! You could have told me where you had gone, or at least inform me that you were running around with Y/F/N!”
Once you explained that you had told him, and that he just wasn’t listening, his face fell. He realized that he hadn’t been paying you any attention, and that today was your only day off work until next week. He remembered you had said a few days ago that you had wanted to spend it with him, and he felt his stomach twisting from the feeling of guilt. You closed your mouth, not having anything else to say; you knew he had realized what he needed to know.
“Y/N, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think that the days were passing by as swiftly as they are.”
HOSEOK ( JHOPE )
— It had been a long day for the both of you. First, you had been told by your boss that your paycheck included less than usual, and Hoseok had realized a few songs he had thought he saved on the computer, didn’t. Secondly, your boss insulted you for messing up on a few graphs, and Hoseok was yelled at by Yoongi for being so clumsy. The third thing that had occurred was just affecting you: Hoseok had abruptly cancelled your dinner plans, with no explanation, when you were already done preparing. Overall, you and Hobi’s days were both an utter disaster.
“Y/N! Can’t you see that I can’t spend every living second with you?! Why can’t you just stop being so clingy!”
Hoseok didn’t mean the words he expressed, and he didn’t know how they would impact you. After everything that had happened, you found yourself silently sobbing in your shared room. Hobi was in the kitchen, trying to find something to eat although there was nothing, and that was the exact reason why you had a date planned. It didn’t take him long for the guilt to settle in, and soon your hiccuped sobs couldn’t be contained in the four walls. He felt his heart ache.
“Y/N, baby, I didn’t mean that. You know I’ve been stressed all day, and I know you have too. I’m sorry that I took my anger out on you.”
NAMJOON ( RAP MONSTER )
— Due to you both having busy schedules, nights declared for being movie dates were special. You had only been able to see Namjoon late at night, being that one of you was always staying late to work. Sitting at your cluttered desk at work, you felt overwhelmed, and the one thing that could take your stress away was a movie night with Joon. Glancing at the clock on your computer, you realized it was time to head home. Meanwhile, Namjoon was sitting on the couch in your house, sleeping soundly. Once you startled him as you walked through the door, his cranky self was revealed.
“Baby! Can’t you walk in a little quieter?! I was sleeping and you know how hard that is to come by!”
You couldn’t help but smile at his messy hair and tired expression, although you could see how frustrated he was. Once he saw a grin forming on your face, his expression softened. You were the only person who could change his mood in seconds, and it was one of those moments. Namjoon chuckled lightly, realizing how messy his hair was, and how stupid he was acting.
“Sorry about that; will my cuddles make it up to you?”
— You would be ecstatic to see Jimin after having had a great day at school. You passed you exams with the highest grades in your class, and your plans with friends had been cancelled. You wanted to tell Jimin everything, loving how he listened to every word that ever left your lips. It was what had made you fall for him in the beginning of your relationship, and still it was something you admired. You had prepared dinner for the two of you, believing he would be extremely grateful. Your mood would change drastically once the front door slammed closed.
“I’m going to shower; I can’t get the choreography right, and I don’t want to watch you in awe as you get it in seconds!”
You let out a sigh as you grabbed a serving of the dinner you had prepared for you and Jimin. Sitting down at the table, the running water created by the shower filled your ears. You didn’t want to bother Jimin, being that he clearly did not want to see you. You felt bad for the way he exclaimed about how he was unable to get a choreography, but you knew he wouldn’t stay mad and frustrated forever. Meanwhile, Jimin was lying his forehead against the shower wall, wondering if you disliked if for barging in and yelling at you about his problems.
“Baby? You don’t hate me, do you?”
TAEHYUNG ( V )
— Tae would have been in one of his many mood swings, and Jimin would have texted you already, warning you about his attitude. You wouldn’t think too much about it, until Taehyung walked into the dorms where you stood with Jin preparing dinner for everyone. He had his arms crossed over his chest like a child, not even uncrossing them as he slid off his shoes. You glanced towards Jin, who was trying to back his laughter. Taehyung saw the two of you, and he immediately appeared as if he had smoke flying from his ears.
“Can you not hog my girlfriend/boyfriend, hyung! Y/N, can you not spend more time with me instead of Jin?! I would prefer you to see me – your boyfriend – instead of my best friend!”
Tae stormed into his room, and the rest of the boys walked over and sat down. They all appeared more exhausted than usual, and you knew that the cause was Taehyung. You didn’t take Tae’s words with a grain of salt, knowing that his mood swing would pass and he soon would realize that you did ask him if he wanted to spend the day together. Yoongi laid his head on the counter as he groaned, and you heard Tae’s bedroom door opening already.
“Y/N! I’m sorry; I just remembered you asked me about today and if I wanted to spend it with you. You then told me you were going to hang out with Jin and cook a few things for the boys and I. I’m sorry, baby.”
— You had just woken up, and you were already wishing that Jungkook was there to help you stay warm in the cold atmosphere. You knew he was in the living room, hearing the loud noises being produced by one of his many video games. He couldn’t sleep last night, and instead of lying with you, he got up and went to go play. You didn’t mind, being that you were very tired and delirious. You did, however, mind that he was still playing games early in the morning. Once you opened the door to your room and expressed that to him, he turned to you with fury in his eyes.
“I’m sorry that you’re so clingy and you constantly need me by you! I couldn’t sleep, and I can’t help that! I’m still not tired, and I’ll sleep once I feel like I need to! You don’t have to constantly worry about me!”
You then retreated back into your room, continuing to get ready for your day of classes. Jungkook was only angry from the competition in the game, and you knew that. You tried to not think about his words too much, but still they bothered you. Jungkook, in the other room, had just won the round for the first time since he had began playing. He turned to the door, expecting to see you there to congratulate him, but instead he saw that it was closed. A frown formed on his face as he rushed into your room.
“I’m sorry jagi; I was frustrated. I didn’t mean to say what I did. I love you, and I love everything you do!”
Taehyung had seen enough red in his lifetime to fill the Mississippi, the bloody current carrying the endless stream of bodies down the river of his past. They drifted in mangled pieces of splintered limbs and tattered flesh, the water unable to submerge the vast quantity of his indiscretions. His years of ripping and raging proved to be too much for the great river, even in the metaphorical confinements of his head it seemed. They littered the washed up crevices of his mind, tainting the cerulean memories that reminded him of the few good moments of his last two-hundred and eighty-seven years.
Of course, Taehyung had never been one for remorse in these types of situations. Once he was turned, his conscious took a backseat, so much so that he couldn’t even remember the disposition he’d wielded as a human. He imagined that he must’ve been the same cold-hearted, apathetic, monster that he was today. To him body count was a number on a similar wavelength to temperature, throw-away information that was constantly changing, just in Taehyung’s case it was only moving in the upward direction. His killings may have slowed since that first century or so thanks to a certain friend, but relapses were inevitable. Every couple of decades he found himself once again being consumed by the insatiable lust of his instincts, the water dragging him down the river, his bodies in tow.
anonymous said: I’m so fucking depressed, life is shit, could I ask for a fluffy Lucifer imagine please, your writing makes me feel better?“
I hope this helps, nony. I apologize that fluff isn’t my strong suit. :P
Warnings: Reader is upset, though specifics aren’t mentioned.
It was hard to hide
things around Lucifer. Whether you wanted him to or not, he was
perceptive in more ways than you could ever imagine, and always
seemed to know your mood the minute he laid eyes on you, occasionally
Today was one of those
that he must have picked up on your mood from where ever he may have
been. His arrival marked by the sound of fluttering wings and the
coolness of his body as the bed weighed down behind you, causing your
body to roll back slightly into the sagging mattress as his curiously
concerned face stared down at you.
Whatever words you hoped
to have spoken fell silent on your lips, not needing to be released
as his presence muted whatever ache you’d been feeling.
The shift in the room
was palpable and a ghost of grin seeped onto his face, his hand
reaching out to smooth your hair, leaning down to place a chilled
kiss in the centre of your forehead.
“My favorite little
human,” he whispered, the words so quiet that had they not been
spoken so close to your ear, you likely wouldn’t have heard them.
“You don’t like
humans,” you mused quietly, unable to keep from grinning back at
him. It was remarkable at how his presence was able to sway even your
darkest of days, bringing back to life the person you were, and
wanted to be.
“Then that in itself
should speak volumes about you now, shouldn’t it?” he teased, and
though there was a taunting edge in his voice, there was also
something else there, a strange inflection that almost sounded like
adoration, though that could hardly be possible, or so you were lead
Having Lucifer around
had shattered the image of him that had been drilled into your head
since you were little. To you, he was everything you needed him to
be, sometimes even when you didn’t realize you needed it.
You’d been lost, openly
staring at the cold, calming blue of his eyes when he laid himself
next to you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and
breathing deeply. It was actions like this that had you suspecting
that he too, in his own way, craved your presence. His body aligning
perfectly with yours as a strange, contented sigh breezed from his
chest, his rigid, powerful posture suddenly seeming vulnerable. You’d
never dare to speak those thoughts aloud, but it made you feel
special in a way that you couldn’t explain, that you’d be the one to
calm the Devil’s rage, if only for those moments.
You and Lucifer spoke
little in your time together, your comforts seemingly transcending
words as anything you needed to convey to each other went utterly
unspoken. You’d lay this way for hours at a time, longer perhaps,
though neither of you marked the passage of time or paid it any mind.
Peaceful and quiet you’d
shared in each others company until the inevitable time came where
he’d have to make his leave, usually while you were asleep, never
waking or disturbing you with his departure. A memory of cold lips
against your cheek was the only thing he’d left behind, the world
seeming oddly real, yet empty when he was gone.
Despite that, however,
you knew he’d return, he’d always come back to you. In the back of
your mind his voice calmed and comforted you until the darkness
became too strong, and then you’d find yourself back in his arms once
again, taming the demons he’d been blamed for for an eternity.
Word count: 4K+
Warnings: lots of swearing, mentions of blood and smut
Was heavily inspired by a Harry Styles imagine I read a while back!
It had been a long. Fucking. Day.
You’d been dragging yourself around, grumbling and feeling heavy, since early this morning. It was your time of the month, the beginning of your seven day walk through hell, and you had done all in your power to keep professional for the last twelve or so hours.
You wish you were one of those women, you know, the ones who make statements like “Oh yeah, my period only lasts a few days and I don’t even bleed that much” or “I haven’t had cramps since I was a teenager” but unfortunately, you think bitterly, you are not. Your period had always been heavy and painful, ever since you we’re thirteen. You had cramps that we’re so intense they had caused blackouts in the past and you bled heavily for the entirety of the week. Plus your mood swings…they were killer. It was something you’d been forced to become accustomed to.
“I cant fucking wait to go through menopause” was something anyone close to you was used to hearing during this time of the month.
So, at the start of they day you’d popped four Ibprofen and forced yourself to go and be the professional, get your work done. Paper work. Piles and piles of paperwork, so much that it made your eyes cross. You weren’t a fan of the mundane aspcets of your job to begin with but today you want to slam your head repeatedly against the glass surface of your desk.
No days off, you unfortunately have to make that your mantra. Working PR for the Avengers was a full time thing, between making sure that there were no Governments pissed that one of their national land marks had been destroyed and attempting to keep them all in line; make sure they were working with the UN so that homeland security didn’t come knocking at your door you were a busy woman.
You had come to love them though, been adopted into this second family. Bonded with each of them over the last ten months that you’d been assigned at Avengers Tower. Yes, assigned. Well guilted, really. When you’d gotten a call from Sharon, Carter, close to a year ago, begging you to take on the assignment of glorified “babysitting” the group, you’d at first blatantly said no. You had no shortage of job offers, but with a little begging and some strong Jedi mind tricks on Sharons end you’d accepted. You we’re happy you did(even though you most definitely wanted to fucking kill them sometimes).
More then happy because it had united you with Bucky, the sharp talking puppy dog of a super soldier.
Poor guy was totally nuts for you, you pitied him for it.
Especially on days like today. When you we’re the biggest raving bitch this side of the equator.
You snapped at Maria, not able to stomach her dry humor that usually made you laugh. You’d told Tony to go fuck himself, well you did that almost everyday but you had done it three times already today and for some reason you couldn’t bare to be touched. Everytime Bucky would try to do simple things that you usually loved like put his warm, flesh arm around your shoulder or kiss your cheek you’d flinch away. He didn’t make a big deal out of it, you’d been with him for close to four months and it wasn’t like he didn’t know what was going on but you felt like total and complete shit every time. You just couldn’t. Everything seemed to grate your gears.
You just wanted to bury your self in your bed and die.
So after you had gotten all(most) of your work done that’s exactly what you did. You grabbed a quick dinner, keeping the small talk with Wanda, Bruce and Vision light and timely and then made your way to your room where you intended to pamper the fuck out of yourself and then rot.
Boling yourself in a bath was first. Dropping in a LUSH Honeybee bathbomb, a sprinkle of Epsom salt to relax your muscles and a healthy drizzle of lavender oil you had proceeded to soak. For at least thirty minutes, until the hot water had begun warmed you from the inside out. Making you all gooey and pliable. As you sat in the multi colored tub, relaxed, you cant get your mind of Bucky. How much of a ice cunt you’d been to him. How well he’d dealt with it, not once complaining and giving you your space to make it through your day.
You truly didn’t deserve that man.
He was everything you’d never knew you wanted. Beyond being angularly handsome in a sort of timeless way, with that 40’s charm and that lopsided smile, he was kind. And patient- the kind of patient that every man you’d ever come across had not even an ounce of. He was so damn good to you, he made you so happy. And yet you did shit like shrug him off when he tried to be there for you?
“What the hell is wrong with you, Y/N” you ask your self, bring your wet hands out of the water to cup your forehead. You felt like you could cry, your eyes stung and waves of dejection rolled over you.
Ugh. Stupid period hormones.
You got so damn emotional. Happy, irritated, sad. They jumped so fast you couldn’t catch them, slipped through your fingers at a rate that was almost scary.
After your bath, you slathered yourself with your shea butter, using a special hydrating serum on your face before you shrugged into a pair of not so cute black brief “period panties”, a pair of high waisted sleep shorts that we’re printed with flamingos and a little black tank top that clung you your meaty sides, rose up a bit so that your mid drift was exposed. You brushed out your (h/l), (h/c) hair, that you had tied up before your bath so it was still dry, and threw it up into a messy bun on top of your head. You’d missed a large chunk in the back but you couldn’t be bothered to care.
You go to your bed and unassemble it, tossing your many throw pillows to the foot of the bed so that you could climb under the thick comforter, you sigh as you sink down a little into the mattress and the warmth and comfort of being surrounded fills you up.
You’re missing something though, you notice that nagging feeling. You’d dreamed of your bed all day long and now that you we’re in it- it didn’t feel as good as you thought it would.
Don’t get me wrong, you felt like jelly in the soft sheets. But lonely jelly…jelly that wanted to be held…
You reach over and grab your phone from it’s place on the bedside table, scrolling through your messages, composing a new one.
-Where are you? Come to bed?-
You send a text to Bucky, chewing a little on your lip. You wanted him next to you, you selfish bitch. You wanted his hands on you, wanted to feel the cool metal of his prosthetic arm on your skin. Wanted him to grab you tight, to nuzzle his scruffy chin against your chest like you loved.
Your phone chimes with a text from Bucky.
- I’ll be up soon, kitten. I have to finish up training with Steve and Sam. Keep the bed warm for me-
He’d even used a little winky emoji at the end. You bark out a laugh, look at your little old, young, man of a boyfriend. Getting good with technology and stuff.
You miss him so much it almost hurts.
How could you miss him so terribly when you’d just seen him, hours ago?
I will. Hurry3
You then reach for the remote, looking for something to watch, to keep your attention on until your man got there.
You’re about half way through your second episode of Game of Thrones when Bucky comes through the door.
His hair is tied up in a untidy bun at the base of his neck and he has on a pair of gray sweat pants and a tight, black pullover. He smiles, that mega watt smile of his when he sees you all curled up in bed and you smile back.
God he’s so sexy. So…perfect.
Because in his hand there is a plate. And on that plate, there is two large slices of cheesecake.
“I come baring treats”
“Buck” You dramatically whine, closing your eyes and jutting out your lip. He comes over to the bed, leaning down to put the plate on the nightstand and you sit up to meet him, kissing his lips and gripping the side of his neck, your fingers sliding under the collar of his sweater.
“Mmm” He mumbles, his lips meeting yours just as enthusiastically, if not a little amused. You’d been so stand offish all day, which he got(he was fully aware of what date it was) and to have you so eager to see him now made him chuckle.
Especially when you begin to recline, snaking an arm around his shoulder and attempting to pull him down on top of you.
“Y/N” He pulls away, just far enough that he can get the words out. “I’ve been working out for hours, Sam had us running god damn suicides. I smell something awful”
You shake your head, gripping at the hair at the back of his neck, unraveling his bun a bit.
“I don’t care, I missed you. I’m sorry I’ve been such a cunt all day”
He’s gotten used to how harsh your vocabulary is, but he still isn’t a fan of the horrible names you call yourself.
Even if you did use the word cunt as though it was a normal term and not the wicked insult he’d grown up knowing it to be.
“No, kitten” you adore that nickname he had only for you “you had an off day. We all have them, don’t apologize for shit you cant control”
Your heart swells and you peck his lips again, and then his chin, his nose, his cheeks. Any where you can reach. He takes your affection, basking in your overwhelming light for a moment. In the way what you loved him.
He has to force himself to pry away from you.
“I’m gonna hop in the shower real quick, okay? Don’t pout- I’ll be back in a jiffy. Eat some cheese cake and finish your dragon show” He instructs you and you sigh theatrically, but let him go and wash off his day. You watch like a hawk as he peels off the sweater, his bare, muscular back in your line of vison just for a moment before the bathroom light flips on and he goes to start the shower, shuffling out of view.
You eat spoonful’s of turtle cheesecake and watch the events Westeros play out on the TV…but your distracted. By the ache that you feel in your lower stomach. By the way every hair on your body seems to be standing alert.
All you can think about is Bucky pounding the living life out of you, of him making you cum.
Trysts from the past, him making your eyes cross with the kind of pleasure you thought you’d only ever get from your vibrator makes you squirm a little bit, your plush thighs pressing together in an attempt to soothe the ache that was only growing.
You’re thinking of nothing but sex, in all its many amazing shape and forms when Bucky exits the bathroom, flicking off the light behind him, only a towel hanging low on his hips as he goes to your dresser to pull out the clothes he kept there.
You watch him, your eyes drinking in everything about him as he goes to get dressed in his pajamas. His broad shoulders and strong sculpted torso, the way that the muscles move under his skin as he pulls a pair of boxers up his big, muscled thighs before he throws on a muscle tank. It’s such a simple action, putting on clothes but to your horny, foggy brain it’s the most beautifully erotic thing you think you’ve ever seen.
Does he even know how gorgeous he is?
“Y/N!” He calls you from your ogling as he walks over, beginning to climb into bed next to you.
“Huh?” you wonder, holding open the layers of bedding so that he can settle in next to you.
“I asked has the dragon queen lady and the dwarf guy gotten to the country where the incest twin queen is yet?” He reiterates the question that he had asked you twice before while he was getting dressed.
You smiled. He tried with Game of Thrones, he really did for you. He just couldn’t get into it, he’d whine. But he still kept up fairly well with the story lines.
You raise up so that he can slide his mechanical arm under you, scooting up close so that your skin is touching. His hand is splayed across your shoulder, the metal of his fingers feeling cool against your over heated skin. You throw one of your legs over his and rest your head on the place where his shoulder meets chest. The closeness is killing you; from the heat radiating off his body to the slightly spicy smell of his body wash. And he’s holding you, nonchalantly, as though he cant sense the wildfire inside of you.
“Mmmhmm, a buncha’ fucked up shit happened though” you tell him distractedly as you bite your bottom lip, letting your right hand draw little patterns on his chest, your nails ghosting at the exposed skin there.
He scoffs “That’s all that ever happens in this show”
Why is he not noticing how crazy bad you want him? You wonder as you nuzzle your head into his neck, rubbing your face against his clean skin prickly with his scruff. He pulls you in closer, his head reclining slightly so that he can give you more access to his neck as your drag your open lips up to his jaw, your body is shifting, moving closer.
He kisses your hairline, down your temple and then slides his steel hand under the thin, barley there material of your cami, his big palm spreading over the small of you back and the small roll there.
You groan at the feeling, at his hands on you finally and he smiles slyly, knowing exactly what you want.
“Ahh” Bucky hums, rubbing your back as your leg curls over his thigh more, spreading yourself wider over him, needing to feel something between you legs other then the empty ache. “You need something, kitten?”
“Bucky, I’m so horny” You whine and his hand slips even lower, gripping your squishy ass hard and pulling you even closer.
You’re shaking at how overwhelmingly good it all feels, you grinding onto his thigh, the feeling of his dick fattening more and more everytime your rub against it.
“Pretty sure I can help you with that, sweets” He reassures your, his gruff voice breathy as he goes to shift your position, intending to climb on top of you.
It hits you then, what time of the month it is. And although you weren’t against the idea of period sex, and you knew he wasn’t either, you weren’t in the mood to deal with any of that right now.
You push hard against his chest, stopping his movements and he shoots you a questioning look.
He knows what you’re going to say already “I know, and you know I don’t care” he peppers kisses all over your jaw, down your neck as he whispers it in your ear.
You’re so tempted…but your also both so clean.
“I don’t want to deal with the mess”
“We’ll clean it up after” He pushes on, you haven’t stopped grinding against his thigh and his erection is now straining against the front his boxers.
“No” you protest, the thought of all that work not appealing in the least “We’ll have to change the sheets, and we both just showered”
At that very moment, you’ve never hated having your period more.
Your hand is fisted in his hair and his fingers are gripping your ass so firmly, you think he might leave bruises. No matter how hard you grind yourself onto his thick, taut thigh at this angle you cant get enough friction.
You’re starting to drive him crazy, you’ve gotten him up there with you, his mind swirling with lust and yet you wont let him do anything about it.
“What do you wanna’ do then?” The strain in his voice is clear and you bite your lip.
Knowing exactly what you wanted.
“Lay on your back, baby?” You ask him and he obliges almost instantly, rolling onto his back so that you could strattle his waist.
There was a time when you hated being on top, hated the feeling of supporting all of your weight on your knees because you were scared to put it on him. Felt self conscious because you were worried he was looking at your belly while you rode him…yeah, that time had passed. Bucky loved you on top and he let you know it, let you know that no matter how hard you tried you’d never be able to crush him( “I’m a super soldier, kitten) That he loved the way you looked perched above of him.
That was no different tonight. That tight little tank top hugged your curves so prettily, your big, yet perky breasts sat in a way that had him groaning and leaning forward so that he could capture one of your nipples that strained against the fabric in his mouth. You yelp as he sucks hard on one of your pebbled nipples through the tank top, grabbing at the root of his still wet hair as he nibbles, his teeth tugging it hard. Like he knows you love. His arms are tight around you, hugging you tight, keeping you immobile.
"Baby, ugh” You pull his head to lay back on the pillows by his hair and he looks up at you, the pupils of his baby blues blown. You let go of his hair and wiggle a little so that his arms loosen from around you before you start to move on top of him.
It wasn’t the ideal…in a perfect world his cock would be buried deep inside of your right now, but you had to manage. You spread your thighs as far as they will go so that your clothed core is pressed right against his covered hard on and start to ride, rubbing yourself down against him as hard as you can.
“Fuck yes” you hiss because your finally getting the stimulation you need and it feels so amazing. Buckys hands are holding your love handle laden hips, grinding you down firmly as his hips snap up to meet every movement. It’s hypnotic, watching you with your head thrown back, your mouth open and sweet little desperate sounds escaping your lips as you work himself over him frantically. Your tits bounce and he reaches up so that he can thread his fingers in your hair, taking it out of its bun so that it tumbles around your shoulders wildly, leaving you with a halo. He could watch you like this forever.
When his hand leaves your hair and glides under your shirt to pinch and tug at your nipples you lose control of your snapping hips, the rhythm of your dry humping going crazy and sporadic as you flail on top of him.
“Come on, kitty, just like that”
“I’m cumming. Fuck, oh fuck” You whine in a high pitched, desperate tone as you spasm on top of him and he helps steady you, watching you ride out, literally, your orgasm.
When you come down, he lets you fall against his chest, your face is pressed against the side of his neck, your gasps as your try to catch your breath in his ear, he groans at the heavenly sounds.
You’re not a selfish lover. You never have been. Even in the dizzy bliss of post orgasm you know he didn’t cum with you so you snake your hand down his chest and into his boxers.
“Y/N, ungh, yes” He cant form a complete sentence, can only grunt as you take his hard cock in your hand and rub the precum at the tip with your thumb before you start to pump him. It doesn’t take long for your super solider to cum tumbling down beside you. You love the sound of his orgasms, how raw his moans are. You pepper kisses all over his neck, giving his Addams Apple a little lick before you slide off him and back on to your side of the bed.
“That was so good” you smile, sated and content “I feel so much better”
“I’m glad, kitten” he kisses the top of your hair “you know I love it when you ride me like that, right?”
You bite your lip to stifle a giddy little laugh “Yeah, Buck, you’ve told me”
“Mmm, well I’ll tell you again. Feel free to climb on and take a ride whenever you want”
“I’ll keep that in mind” you hug his chest, contentment filling your every pore, you both share the last of the turtle cheesecake before you go to bed and you love your man so god damn much.
Cheesecake and orgasms? Isn’t that all we need when we’re on our period? Oh yeah and our own personal Bucky Barnes. I’m obsessed with him and his man bun.
Keith wandered through the halls of the castle.
He didn’t really know where he was going, just walking for the sake of walking to just give himself something to do.
The funeral had been much larger then any of them had expected.
The news that the blue paladin had died during battle spread throughout the universe.
What had been planned as a small ceremony on a earth like planet to honour Lance’s memory, ended up stretching all across the universe, to almost every single planet they had ever visited.
All those beings had been touched by Lance in some way…
And he had never even realised how much he was worth.
Keith doubted he would ever be able to forget the blue Paladins final moments.
The two of them had split away from the rest of the team to check for any left over prisoners in an abandoned Galara base.
Keith had been in a bad mood charging ahead so they could get out of there as fast as possible. He hadn’t seen the trip wire until it too late.
One second he was walking then he was being shoved to the ground by Lance right before an explosion rocked the building.
When the dust cleared Keith was ready to yell at Lance, then he saw him.
Lance was limp a metal beam impailed right through his stomach with blood dripping from both the wound and his mouth.
His eyes were wide and panicked as he looked at Keith.
He had looked so scared, in utter agony unable to even scream the pain was so intense.
Keith surged forward. Trying to tell him everything would be ok, that they would get out of there together.
But more explosions in the distance rocked the base and sounds of approaching Galara became louder and louder as the seconds ticked by.
Lance shook his head and pressed his bayard into Keith’s hand.
“I..I’m g-lad I… was the o-ne. Ev…ery…. one else… imp-ortant.”
Keith was horrified as Lance smiled at him as his eye slowly closed and his face went slack.
Keith screamed. He screamed and screamed even when Shiro arrived and pulled him away.
They had to leave Lance’s body.
The Galara were outside and they had to fight to get away, but a few days later Pidge returned in the green lion to try and get him so they could take him home.
But the base had collapsed burying Lance forever under tons of rock and rubble.
Keith had felt empty after they returned from the ceremony.
He couldn’t cry like the others, he didn’t deserve to cry.
If he had just watched where he was walking then the castle wouldn’t be so quite now.
Lance would still be here to call him names and make his life a little brighter.
Some how Keith ended up in Lance’s room lying on the floor.
Somehow it seemed wrong to even sit on his bed, like Lance would walk in any moment with his face mask on asking if Keith planned to spend the night in that stupid fake flirting way he always did.
But he wouldn’t be back.
And Keith would never be able to tell him just how much he loved him and find out how Lance felt in return.
He was staring under the bed when a envelope caught his attention.
Keith slowly pulled it out reading it in surprise
‘Paladins of Voltron’
Keith tried to swallow the lump in his throat as he opened the letter with shaking hands and began to read.
‘If your reading this I must be dead…
war veteran!reader specific. Starts out very serious and ends on a somewhat silly note because we’ve been too angsty here lately. This is a little sloppy because I wrote it in about ten minutes, but I was in the mood for speed-writing so this is what you get.
If the Doctor had ever asked you, you would have proudly told him that, yes, you had served. You were a soldier. You were one of those people who he sneered at because they held guns and took orders. You would have shoved your service record in his smug face when he acted like not using a gun or disliking salutes made him so morally superior. But he didn’t ask, so you didn’t say anything. You just waited for him to notice, and you knew the look on his face when he found out was going to be worth however long your silence lasted.
That said, the fact that the Doctor didn’t know about your military background was the only thing keeping you from slapping him. Both of him.
Well, there were three of him, at the moment. A future him and a past him. The future him, Eleven, was actually being less irksome than the present him, but they were both being rather difficult. And that was all because of the past him.
His past self, the Warrior, was achingly familiar to you. You liked him, too, as much as you liked every other version of him. And, as brusque as he acted, you had caught him shyly staring at you when he seemed to think you weren’t looking. They called him the Warrior, but all you saw was a man who just wanted the fighting to end.
And the Doctors were acting like it was all his fault. Their behavior wasn’t as surprising as it would have been if you didn’t already have the gist of their dynamic as different versions of the same man, but, oh, the anger you felt blindsided you. You hadn’t expected to feel like this, like there was fire in your chest, just because one Doctor sneered so derisively at another. But the anger was there, and you had to focus mainly on breathing evenly and not slapping either of the Doctors.
That got a little more difficult when you were all confined within a small space.
WARNING! There are several mentions of torture, so if you are sensitive to this I would suggest skipping those parts.
This chapter took me so long to write partly because of those specific scenes. They are pretty graphic and I need a certain mood to be able to write them. Not to say I’ve been going from writer’s block to writer’s block. But it’s finally here! Thank you for the patience! And I am sorry for the long wait. I might not be able to update often for the next three months because college is really stressful and I barely have the motivation or time to write at times. I am sorry about that as well. But I will always try my best to keep up with everything. Now, without further ado, here is chapter 24. Enjoy! ^^
“Hyung, are you
really going to let Y/N with him?! We have to get her back!” Taehyung said
right after they went out of the room, heading towards the parking lot.
“We can’t risk
anything right now,” Hoseok replied.
“It’s Y/N! That
piece of shit has his hands on her. Who knows what he will do. And you back
away now?! She’s part of the family!”
“Who are you
rising your voice to? Kim Taehyung, get your shit together! If we give Namjoon
what he wants, he’ll step all over us.”
“Y/N could die!”
“Then it’s one
good sacrifice for the sake of the group!”
contains: fluff / sass / thirsty boys / slight NSFW / more sass
[[ // Masterlist // ]]
Minseok came home from the practice in the mood again, but you weren’t. You had so much work to do, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to finish it all.
He put his hand on your knee. “How much more do you have to do, Jagi?”
“Do you think you might want a break soon?” he asked, leaning in close to you.
He nipped your ear. “We can be quick.”
“I didn’t know that all those months ago, I had said yes to dating a walking, talking boner! Silly me! I should have gotten an entire man!”
Minseok leaned back, eyes wide. He’d gotten the message loud and clear and left you alone to work. Out of the corner of your eye you saw him grab his laptop and leave the room.
The next day though, you were the one feeling needy, and you hoped you hadn’t shut him down too hard.
Of course not; it’s Minseok. He’s always ready to go to town with you.
You were watching old episodes of Everybody Hates Chris when Junmyeon walked in front of the TV doing the Growl choreography.
“I am moving!” he joked. “으르렁 으르렁 으르렁 대!”
“Boy, if you don’t get out of the way, I will knock you into next week.”
He kept dancing…
Seven days later, Junmyeon showed up at the door with flowers. You took them, but still had scorn on your face. “Have you learned your lesson?"
He bowed. "Yes, Jagi, my love.”
“Okay.” You stepped aside and let him in.
“Can I make it up to you?” he pleaded.
“I don’t know, can you?” You crossed your arms.
His lips went straight to your neck, and you allowed it.
It wasn’t often you got snippy around Yixing, because he never provoked you, but the flight attendant sure did when he woke you up by rudely lifting your seat and slamming your tray closed.
“What was that?”
“We’re landing,” he said, not looking at you.
“Hmm. Glad to know we’re flying Asshole Airlines. I’ll remember next time we need to travel.”
Yixing had his eyes wide next to you, unable to believe what he’d just heard.
“Never. Again,” you said to him, your signal that this was a business you would no longer be patronizing.
He nodded and pulled you close to him so you could calm down. Being near him always did that. You rested your hot head on his chest until you landed in Changsha, cooled down and ready to meet his parents.
“I’m creeping in your heart bae!” Baekhyun sang in your ear as he hugged you tightly. Sometimes you were in the mood for his antics, but today was not one of those days. You were stressed and just needed to focus on your work so it could be done.
“Baekhyun, if you sing one more line…”
“Creeping, creeping, creeping!!!”
“Hey, you know who wants to hear you? Why don’t you go find Chanyeol? He loves hearing your loud mouth.”
Baekhyun stopped singing and slinked away from you singing softly, “You huuurt me… so bad, so bad… you huuurt me…”
Later on when you were no longer stressed, you felt bad, but he wouldn’t let you make it up to him.
“No, I think you made it clear you hate me now, Jagi! I’m going to sleep in Chanyeol’s bed tonight!”
“Baeeekie, don’t be like that…”
You reeled him back into your arms with promises of cuddles and kisses, reminding him that when you were stressed, you got crankier.
You and Jongdae looked at the spilled milk between the two of you.
“This wouldn’t have happened if you had just let me pour,” he said.
“ThiS wOulDn’T haVe HapPenED iF yOU haD juSt LeT me pOur!” you repeated in your most derisive imitation of Jongdae possible.
“ahHh wAeEE!” you mocked again. “Sit your butt down and let me fix my own breakfast.”
Jongdae was taken aback and left the kitchen. As you wiped the floor and added the little bit of milk you had left to your Frosted Flakes, you felt like you might have been a little harsh. It was only milk; you could buy more.
You walked into the dining room ready to apologize, but you were surprised to find Jongdae giving you his bedroom eyes.
“What… are you serious?” you asked in disbelief.
“I didn’t know you could be so sassy, Jagi…” he growled at you.
Somehow, Jongdae always got his way. An hour later, you sat down to extremely soggy cereal with a slight ache in your legs.
Chanyeol texted you sweet things often when he wasn’t around, but sometimes you liked to mess with him.
He sent: Hello aaaangle
You sent: I never knew I was an angle
He sent: Of course, you’re my one and only angle :)
You sent: What kind of angle am I?
He sent: An angle with more beauty than any other
Then he sent: Wait… why didn’t you tell me that was the wrong word. How long were you going to let me type the wrong word
You sent: Learn how to spell, Chan
He sent: I’m not coming home from the studio tonight
You didn’t answer, and in an hour, he showed up at the door, worried that you were mad at him. You’d played him right into your hands once again, and had him begging for your cuddles and your attention. You gave it in small doses until you were ready to give him your undivided attention.
You were watching TV on the couch alone when Kyungsoo changed the channel without asking you.
“There’s something I want to show you,” he said, sitting next to you. “This is that show I said was really good.”
“I’m not going to like it if it’s interrupting my drama. Change it back.”
“I thought we could watch this together, since it’s a rerun from the beginning.”
“Kyungsoo… do you like your face?” you asked, turning to him. “If you do, I suggest you change the channel back.”
Little did you know, you had just declared a war. Kyungsoo was the king of threats. The war escalated to near nuclear levels before you decided to call it a stalemate because both of the shows had gone off!
“…What do you want to do now?” he asked.
“Eat your face,” you said with a smirk. “I like your face.” Kyungsoo’s angry side really got you going for some reason.
“I missed seeing you, Jagi,” he said, holding you close to him, sounding more sincere than he’d ever sounded about anything. He had been gone for nearly a month and had only been able to Skype you three times total.
“I don’t blame you… if I couldn’t see me for a month, I’d miss me too.”
Jongin laughed and hit you lightly on the shoulder, and you laughed along with him. It was just one of those overly-cocky moods that popped up on occasion, turning your usually confident self up a few notches.
“Jaaagi, I’m serious!” He calmed down. “I missed you a lot.”
He shyly pulled you into his lap and held your hand against his chest.
You pecked him on the nose and he grinned bigger than you’d ever seen him grin as he stared lovingly into your eyes. You could probably get him to agree to whatever you wanted him to do. Hmm… what did you want him to do…?
“Jagi, what do you think of this outfit? Jaw dropping?”
Sehun stepped out of the dressing room and did a twirl for you. You stepped forward and took the tag on the leather jacket.
“Only thing jaw dropping is how much it costs. Find something else.”
“This is the best thing in the store… don’t I deserve the best?” he whined.
“I think you can learn a lesson from Tao. He says cheap clothes become expensive when he wears them, not the other way around.”
Sehun’s eyes went wide with a “what did you just say to me?!” face and you pushed him back into the changing room.
The door opened a few seconds later and he had his signature “not having it” face on. “Maybe if you made more money, we could have anything we wanted.”
“Maybe if you weren’t such a brat we wouldn’t have to get every little thing you see!”
It sounded like a real fight to the other customers in the store, but when you got to the car, you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. Sehun secretly liked it when you sassed him back… he liked it a lot. Almost as if it was a kink of his and he provoked you on purpose sometimes. Almost.
request: Hey! If it’s not too much trouble, could I request a jealous/protective Sam Uley Oneshot? Maybe like the reader likes Sam but thinks he likes someone else, so they back off and eventually try to move on with someone else (despite still loving Sam) and Sam gets really jealous? Thank you so much ❤😊 ((sorry if that’s too specific))
Waves of the ocean crashing against the shore on a beautiful day. The sun, for once had come out. One of those rare occasions in this town where it always seemed to be raining. The weather didn’t match your mood, rain would have been more appropriate. The others were joking around but your eyes were solely focus on Sam and the girl he was talking to. He’d never be interested in you, wouldn’t he? All he ever saw was that little girl he grew up with. Even though that’s not who you were anymore it was all he’d see when looking at you.
“Heading out!” Running out of the house and making your way to the street you yell back at your friend, “See you later Seth.” A friend from town had invited you for a night out and it had been a welcome distraction. Maybe moving on with someone else would get rid of your hopeless crush on Sam.
After your third drink you were nowhere near drunk but a little buzzed which made it easier to talk to strangers, relax and forget your worries. The world always seemed so much happier and better, though only for that one night. That feeling never lasted, making it a dangerous game.
The guy who suddenly started talking to you got your attention and made you stop thinking about everything that was going on in your head. He was reasonable attractive, not really your type but what did it matter? It was just a conversation, something to keep you busy and your mind from wandering to unwanted topics. One drink and an hour later he got a bit too close and handsy for your comfort. You subtly move a bit away from him, trying to get some distance and excuse yourself soon after. “You’re coming home with me.” Your heart sinks for a moment, shock and horror washing over your face. The pressure on your arm makes you wince. When you turn around, you’re not looking into the face you dreaded to see. Sam? A confused look passes your face before anger takes over. What did he do in here? “Sam, what are you doing here?” “Looking out for you.” “How did you even know where I was?” “Heard you talking to Seth earlier.” It was his protective older brother attitude acting up again. Though he wasn’t your brother or older than you since you were the same age. “I can look out for myself, go home!” You hiss, his presence making you angry. Even when you tried not to think about him, he magically appeared anyway. “I will but you’re coming too. I’m not leaving you with this scumbag.” He says, motioning over to the guy you left sitting on one of the tables. “No, I’m thoroughly enjoying myself and don’t plan on going home alone tonight.” A blatant lie but you wanted him to leave you alone already. Sam narrows his eyes at you, “If you want to hook up with someone so bad, you’ll do it with me but for now, we’re going home.” The conversation for Sam is over because he already starts dragging you to the exit without another word. You didn’t want to leave with him but staying wasn’t such a great option either and there was something else on your mind as well. Did he really mean what he just proposed?
Have you ever felt sad but you just couldn’t pin point what
made you sad? Well, this past week was
one of those weeks. You felt sad,
somewhat depressed but you couldn’t figure out what was making you feel that
way. Work was stressful, so that could
have definitely put you in an off mood.
Chris, your boyfriend of a little over a year was also busy with
photoshoots and press junkets, and you missed him dearly; that could have quite
possibly been the problem too.
Saturday afternoon, you found yourself curled up in your
queen bed; very rare clouds darkening the sky.
Your comforter making you feel like a butterfly still wrapped in a
You had already woken up that morning took a quick shower
and had breakfast. Scrolling through
your phone, you tried to keep busy but you were just so damn tired. Chris was at another photoshoot this morning;
something for a magazine. He mentioned
he would come to your apartment afterwards but you felt like a nap might make
you feel better.
Tl;dr woman pouts over waiting in line, refuses to tell me whats wrong with her peanut butter
So….. I dunno if my long ass rants about the express lane at my work ever went through, but I’m here again and boy let me tell ya
For those that don’t know or don’t remember, my two express checkout lanes are one horribly designed mess of a counter. It takes the typical express shitacular experience and like…. quadruples it.
Anyways. I got stuck there again today… I woke up in an awful, truly terrible mood, I guess my subconscious could smell the express shift coming from hours and miles away… ANYWAYS
So I ended up on a register that someone else had been on, and that person needed an audit (counts the drawer to make sure everything’s all gucci). So while it’s slow, in order to do the audit, I sign off the register, the one being audited logs on, the audit happens, and then we go back.
So I’m standing around waiting at the other, unmanned till and people keep passing the drawer being audited to come up to me to be checked out. So it was super annoying but I was just like “yeah I’m sorry I’m not open over here right now :)”
Everyone fucked off… everything was fine. Well, the audit gets completed so I log back on, and the first guy I turned away is at the register behind me so I was like “Hey I’m up and running again, if youd like to come over!”
So he does, of course. Only instead of walking the “correct” way around the registers where the line forms, he walks backwards (the wrong way) up by whats usually the bagging area on the full registers. Again, idrgaf because there’s no one on the other register and I have no line, we all know what’s going on soooo… whatever.
Well, as I’m ringing him up i notice a woman standing at the other register where the man had walked up… usually people do this when they have a question or find something wrong with their receipt. You know…. cause the way the store is set up and the lines are formed it’s super easy to figure out that that’s not the way you line up to be checked out or dealt a return.
Well, I’m sure you can see where this is going.
So, she has a bag in hand and reciept. Obviously a return (which are handled at the registers). Meanwhile, at about the same time, another woman queues up where she’s supposed to and starts putting her things on the counter.
So as soon as I’m done with the guy, I turn to the woman trying to queue the wrong way and tell her reasonably politely that if she needs to do a return, she has to get in line. She looks at me and tells me she did that (queued that way) because the guy I just had had come to the register from that direction.
The things going through my mind at this point…. a). it’s fucking obvious as shit that that’s not how the lines work b). I recognize you. I know you’re a regular. I know you know how this works. c). what the fuck
But on the outside I just tell her that’s (him coming from the wrong way) because I called him from another line.
Well, she queues the RIGHT way. Keep in mind that all she did was get behind the other lady in line. In my EXPRESS lane. Yeah. One person behind in line. It took me like a minute and a half TOPS to get to her.
Anyways, when I apparently FINALLY get to her she’s pouting. Im asking all the usual questions, like why are you returning this, is it open, etc.
Me: “so why are you returning this?”
Her, curtly: “I changed my mind.”
Me: “so it’s not open?”
Her, annoyed: “it is.”
Me: “so why are you returning it? Didn’t like it?”
Her: *ignores me*
Me: k lol
So I’m like ok fuck you too bitch….. But I process the return. Now, our machines won’t give refunds back on debit cards, which is what she paid with. I usually explain this before or after asking if cash is okay, but since she wanted to be a bitch I didn’t explain, just asked.
She said, “I guess.”
I ask her if she wants her original receipt back, she just stares off in front of herself so I just stare at her until she says “obviously”.
So I finish everything up, count out her change, and go to give it to her.. she holds her hand out but keeps it low and to her body, I’m having to stretch to place it in her hand…. So she pissily says “just put it on the counter” so I’m like whatever and kind of toss the bills and reciept before moving onto the next customer.
On the duplicate receipt we have to print we have to give reasons for returns (hence why I fucking asked her WHY SHE WAS RETURNING IT) amongst other things, but given how she acted, all I could put on the receipt was, “customer pouted because I told her she had to wait in line for a return, so she refused to tell me what was wrong with it.”
Sorry booboo, the world doesn’t revolve around you and your $7 peanut butter.
For the prompt thing: "do you ever shut the fuck up?" (P.s. You're the best ☺️)
They’d been together long enough for Aaron to know what sort of moods Robert was in, and he’d known as soon as they’d gotten into bed that this was going to be one of those evenings, the kind of evening where Robert was too wired to sleep, worked up and brimming with energy.
Aaron, on the other hand, was exhausted. Bone tired and ready to sleep for a week, he’d all but collapsed into bed, half asleep before his head even hit the pillow, the only thing keeping him from dropping off into a deep sleep, the beside lamp Robert still had on (dimmed slightly, to his credit), his husband scrolling through something on his phone.
“Aaron?” Robert said in a stage whisper, glancing up from something he was reading. “You awake?”
Aaron grunted in response, hoping a complete lack of enthusiasm would deter Robert from saying anything else.
“Owls can turn their heads up to 270 degrees,” Robert recited, a delighted grin on his face. “How interesting is that?”
What would be more interesting would be Robert just sleeping.
“They eat up to a thousand mice a year.”
Aaron lifted his head, giving Robert his best unimpressed look. “Why are you telling me this?” he asked, hoping his absolute, complete and utter disinterest was clear. It was the end of a long week, and he just wanted to sleep.
“It’s interesting, isn’t it?” Robert was wearing his new reading glasses, a pair of sleek black frames perched on the bridge of his nose. He’d been getting banging headaches, recently, Aaron practically having to drag his husband to the doctor, where they discovered Robert actually had pretty terrible eyesight.
Cue the jokes about him being over the hill (that had resulted in a week long existential crisis about Robert turning thirty five at the end of the month.)
Aaron sighed, sitting up in their bed, their duvet falling away to his waist. He was wearing one of Robert’s t-shirts, something branded with superhero characters he still refused to pay any attention to, despite however many years of marriage they’d put behind them.
(He’d stopped counting, if he was honest, just grateful to have his wedding ring back on his finger, and a ‘- Sugden’ affixed to his name that proved to the world that he and Robert could make it through anything.)
“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” he inquired, reaching for Robert’s phone, dumping it unceremoniously on one of the bedside lockers, tempted to turn it off before he realised that would result in at least another minute where he wasn’t asleep.
“No,” Robert was grinning, happy to sit back and let Aaron take his glasses off, Aaron admiring how they made Robert look older, a little more distinguished (“like a weirdly sexy lecturer” Charity had commented, before making a joke about Robert’s elbow patches.)
“You should try it some time,” Aaron said, leaning over Robert to switch off the lamp, plunging their room into darkness. “Lie down, come on.”
“I feel like you’re about to tuck me into bed,” Robert joked, going willingly, shuffling down their bed until he was lying on a mound of pillows, Aaron just about able to make out the shape of his face in the darkness.
“Maybe I will,” Aaron replied with a laugh, forcing Robert to lie on his side, wrapping his arms around his husband. He’d never admit it, but this, just being able to hold Robert was his favourite thing in the world, his snarky arsehole of a husband reduced to nothing more than happy, and relaxed, and more than delighted to let Aaron shove his cold hands up under his pyjama top, the two of them curled up so tightly together, most of their bed was empty.
In the morning, they’d be sprawled out across the entire bed, arms and legs everywhere, Robert a notoriously restless sleeper, but for now, Aaron had his husband wrapped up in his arms, their duvet tugged up around them, and he couldn’t think of a better way to fall asleep.