prompt ; “in the early morning, jj finds comfort in waking up beside his favourite, and only, girl.”
warnings ; mentions of abuse, mentions of drugs/alcoholism, profanity, so much fluff to make up for it tho, jj is canonically a yearner 👆
jj maybank
the morning was quiet, almost soft. the sea was slowly rising to wake as the small waves brushed against the banks of the river, boats bobbing calmly to the delicate movements of the water.
sunup rays filtered through the slits of the nets gently as they shun down on the two bodies tangled together between crème coloured sheets. a messy head of hair lay on a bare chest, a leg hiked up and over his midsection and an arm messily, but affectionately, curled onto the left side of his chest. her head raised with every breath he softly inhaled.
his fingers tiredly but lovingly twirled between strands of her hair, tips caressing the fluffiness with carefulness. ocean eyes gazed down to her face, a genuine smile coming easy to rest on his lips. he observed as her own chest was moving, breathing deep and slow as she bathed in the gentleness of her sleep.
he bathed in the peaceful essence of her presence in his arms.
he wasn’t one to wake up before her, but when he did, he never once took it for granted. he’d lay and watch her sleep quietly until she would wake up herself.
jj had never had peace in his life, not a single second of silent or loud love, softness and warmth. he had been thrown the crappy end of the stick from life and left to wallow in the darkness of his room while his father would try to find the solutions to his own troubles at the bottom of a bottle or little baggy.
this, however, was his peace.
this was his heaven, his reward for putting up with so much in his life; the death of his mother, the anger of his father, barely scraping by with his little to none wages from crappy little side jobs provided by the kooks.
she was his love, his softness, his warmth.
a warmth he never knew could exist, but did so anyways. he loved her silently as she slept and loudly when she woke, and unapologetically, too.
he loved her like she was heaven sent, and if he were religious, he would drop to his knees and worship every sigh that fell from her lips if she’d let him.
jj was never one for love, but for the streets.
he was born to bare the fists that bloodied and bruised him, the cuffs that confined him to a life of petty crime just to scrape by, but he didn’t care for it anymore.
not when he had her.
no matter how many times pope and john b would ridicule him for being ‘pussy-whipped’ and ‘babied’, he didn’t care.
he’d take the lashings of his father, the bullying of the kooks, and the cuffs that dug into his wrists when the cops would catch up.
if she wanted him to, he would, unapologetic and happily.
and as he held her, softly, and gently beneath the rising of the sun, he swore he’d shove a gun up fate’s ass and tell them to take it because he refused to give this up.
jj pressed a light kiss to top of her head, arms tightening around her back and elevated knee.
refused to give her up.
this is rushed cos i want some love 😫 and jj is defo a yearner when he’s in love no one can change my mind 🙌
This is a request from this prompt by @stasyalovem thank you so much for this wonderful request! If ya wanna support more, consider buying me a coffee.
Tag|Mention me if ya wanna use these prompts! I'd love to read them too.
Like the way you smile when you laugh at something I did that's unintentionally funny.
When you obviously stare at me and a smile you don't notice starts to etch on your lips.
That infuriating smile when you know you're right in an argument.
Or that smile between every kiss.
Or the way you bashfully turn away from me with that silly smile and blushing face.
Or the smile behind your mask when we're in public while openly staring.
Or that sleepy smile when you still want that few extra minutes cuddled in bed.
That smile etched on your lips with every assault of kisses you pepper my face with.
Or that teasing smile when you know you're being an annoying brat but your smile is just so darn contagious.
The smile you have when sharing my day with you.
The smile you have when we are on a video call together.
The smile you have when wrapped around my clothes when you steal them.
Or how you smile bashfully after being complimented and try to hide your face.
Or when you smile while I try to apply chapstick on your lips on a summer day.
Or when you feed me just to shut me up and faced with a glare.
“Hwang Hyunjin~” Changbin sung gleefully, pouncing onto the ferret who was screaming playful insults and banter as large arms hoisted him up. Nothing so bad has happened, the rapper had just gotten into a more affectionate mood, wanting to cuddle with his favourite dongsaeng, which the younger sarcastically denied. Hyunjin of course had never stood a chance against the strongest and second most cuddly member in Stray Kids, settling for melting into the rapper’s grasp to be taken to the couch.
“I hate you so much.” The dancer softly scoffed, but the dwaekki only smiled in response when he felt a head nuzzling into his chest nonetheless of complaints. The duo laid in a comfortable silence for a while, Changbin squeezing Hyunjin tightly to him as if he was a teddy bear, earning a grunt in response, and a bunch of punches on his arm. Eventually, Binnie got bored, laying still in the air conditioned room that he had grown accustomed to, the cold winds unaffecting of the rapper. However, it was safe to say it affected Hyunjin more than expected, the poor thing shivering under Bin’s grasp. Wearing a frown of concern, Changbin pondered on how to help, before a genius idea struck him.
“HEHEY! Whahaht are yohohohu doing?!” Hyunjin shrieked in surprise when hands slipped under his thin shirt, freezing up at the temperature of Bin’s icy touch. The hands kneaded his sides gently, a soft hum coming from the older man that was behind him. Hyunjin bursted into high pitched giggles, shaking his head rapidly at the ticklish sensations that spreaded throughout his body.
“Just warming you up, you looked cold. Now you’re so smiley and warm!” Changbin cooed sweetly into Jinnie’s ear, his chubby fingers fitting to work on the entire length of the ferret’s sides, making sure to be light with his touches to not overwhelm the younger, yet. Hyunjin flushed furiously at the compliment, covering his face in his hands through the giggles that bounced off the room.
“Ehehehe! Plehehehehase hyung!” Hyunjin giggled crazily, muffled under his hands that barricaded his face to shield the red coating that was on them. Unfortunately, Changbin took notice of it, sarcastically tutting disappointingly as his hands shuffled out of Jinnie’s shirt to pull down his hands softly with a smile.
“Don’t hide that pretty grin from me Jin, aren’t you just the cutest?” Changbin whispered innocently, holding the dancer’s arms down with one of his own to Hyunjin’s chest, using his strength to his advantage. If Hyunjin’s face isn't red enough, surely enough it was now, bleeding with colour all the way to the tips of his ears. It wasn’t fair, how Changbin knew exactly what to say to make the members lose their breath entirely.
“I-I’m not cute- NOHOT AHAHAGAIN!” The dancer shrieked when the rapper’s hand slipped under his shirt to dip right into that belly button, swirling the finger gently around while the remaining fingers lightly danced on the surrounding skin. Hyunjin tried his very best to lift up his arms from his chest to no avail, stuck in the clutches of his favourite hyung. He cackled and squirmed as much as he could, his long, smooth hair tickling Bin slightly from how much it was brushing against his neck.
“Why not again? Your face looks so pretty in this red hm?” Changbin murmured, making the younger squeal from the warm breath that brushed against his ear. Poor Hyunjin had never felt his face heat up so much in his life, going crazy with all the compliments and gentle tickling, he couldn’t handle it. Maybe it was that Binnie wanted to be a tad bit more evil, as his hand searched Jinnie’s lower sides, eventually landing right on the spot above his hip, close to his stomach.
“Wahahahit! Anywhehehere but thehehere! Hyuhuhuhng plehehehase please please- EHAHAHAHA!” Hyunjin begged and pleaded, all falling onto deaf ears when that pesky hand lightly kneaded and scribbled over that patch of skin, effectively driving him insane in under a few seconds. His nimble and agile body was no match for someone as muscular as Changbin, completely pinned down without an escape in sight. The dwaekki simply basked in the shriek-filled laughter that he adored so much, giggling along with the dancer softly, it was just too contagious.
“IT TICKLES! PLEAHAHAHAHA! ANYWHEHHEHERE ELSE!” Hyunjin begged through almost breathless laughter, kicking out his feet on the bed to try and dispel the ticklish shocks of energy; it didn’t work, just like any attempts to escape. He was glad Changbin was a gentle and squishy Hyung though, granting him the mercy he so desperately wanted with a soft giggle. The hand trailed up to his ribs, tracing each bone before digging in softly and instantly leaving, putting the dancer on edge.
“Of course it tickles, that’s the point! I want to have one last finale though…” Changbin teased, it wasn’t so often that the rapper was mean or evil, but today his affectionate mood was going to be the absolute death of Hyunjin. Keeping him in sweet giggles and anticipation, he pondered what to do next, wanting to give a surprise to his favourite dongsaeng, after Felix of course…
“NohohoHO! PleheHEase! I cahahAHn’t!” His words were filled with squeaks in between each time the skin between his ribs were dug into, a wide, happy smile plastered on his face. It had been long since Hyunjin was treated with care during his wrecking sessions, usually the members wouldn’t pay much attention to when Jinnie didn’t want a certain spot to be tickled, grateful for an observant member like Changbin. He could feel the dwaekki’s eyes scan for any signs of being uncomfortable, which despite his pleas it wasn’t the case, enjoying the compliments too much to ask for it to stop.
“You can, you’re lying to your hyung, what a bad dongsaeng. It seems that I have to punish you…” Changbin grinned, before diving his head right into the crook of Hyunjin’s neck, blowing the loudest raspberry he could muster. Meanwhile, he let go of the ferret’s hands in favour of kneading his hips gently but with enough pressure to make Hyunjin ascend. The dancer screamed at the top of his lungs, the anticipation consuming him whole as he was in loud hysterics, face to neck covered in a pretty blush.
“AHHAHAHAHAH! I’M SOHOHOHORY! PLEAHAHAHAHA!” He begged the best he could for some mercy, but with the way his hands just tore and grasped at the sheets were an obvious giveaway of thinking otherwise. Binnie didn’t have a reply, simply blowing more raspberries and kneading his hips like there was no tomorrow. Tears of mirth streamed down Hyunjin’s face, but he didn’t mind having his voice ripped from him, he trusted his hyung.
Sure enough, it stopped as soon as enough tears coated his chin, there wasn’t even a safeword put in place between them both, Hyunjin instead just gripping the bed sheets tight enough it might’ve ripped. Changbin smiled sweetly at what he’s created, leaning down to wipe away those tears of happiness he’s caused before throwing a warm blanket over them both.
“You did so well, you were the best.” Changbin continued humming sweet nothings into Hyunjin’s ear, tracing soft shapes on his hands to cool the dancer down. He melted into a puddle of goo, his smile ceasing to be removed even with his body playing itself dead, completely limp. They both fell asleep promptly, snores filling up the room between the duo.
Now if only Changbin remembered to inform a certain chick of his whereabouts…
so, a couple of weeks ago i made a little post about how i’d love for people to send me prompts/writing ideas and the lovely @louistsbravery sent me one based off her moodboard she so kindly made, here!
my brain kind of ran away with me and so i hope you like this, i tried to stick to the theme as best i could, enjoy! :)
Harry eyes the man from behind the counter.
He watches him as his eyes scan the board above from where he’s standing, sleepy blue orbs blinking tiredly behind the square glasses perched upon his nose.
His heart thumps something fierce when he notices the tufts of brown hair sticking out slightly from behind his ear, a noticeable trait he assumes from lack of sleep and too many early mornings.
It’s 6 o’clock in the morning and the sun is barely edging over cobbled streets and tall buildings, its shimmering waves casting a pale glow over puddles on the pavement and bouncing off lampposts.
‘Babs Bakery’ is nestled between a small row of shops along the Northern Quarter. Its quaint, rustic exterior leads itself into a small tea room and peaceful eating area. Potted plants line the windowsill outside while the smell of fresh baked scones and coffee beans pulse and weave through the air, an atmosphere Harry’s prone to taking naps in.
He’s been here for about a year now, taking over from his Nana when she’d gotten too old to carry on the business, but he hadn’t changed a thing. It might be slightly old fashioned but it reminds him of his grandparents and how he used to sit at the table in the corner by the window with his colouring book and jumbo crayons, while being served hot vimto and iced fingers.
A small cough nudges Harry from his stupor and he blinks, realising he’s been staring. The man is smiling slightly, the last traces of sleep pull at his lips as he lifts his hand to cover his mouth while he lets out a yawn.
“Morning.” He says, his Northern twang is raspy and gentle, a higher pitched lilt whispering through words.
Harry wipes his clammy hands on his apron and steps forward, fingertips drumming along the counters edge. He can see the man’s wearing a light blue button up underneath a soft, grey jumper. Pale pink tie burrowed in between. A shoulder bag is situated over his left arm and there are textbooks, papers and pens bursting through the zip.
“Hey. G’morning.” He replies, fingers aching to touch him. “Find anything you like?”
The man squints one more time at the blackboard, eyes moving over loopy words and today’s specials.
“I think,” he says, dragging out the ‘I’. Harry finds it that endearing he has to grip the countertop and remind himself to keep breathing. “I think I’m gonna go for a latte and a cheese and ham toastie, please. Is that alright?”
Harry nods and reaches for a paper cup. “Is that to go or stay in?” He asks.
“To go, please. Need to make sure I get to work before the little monsters. If I time it right, the caffeine rush lasts all day.” The man responds, smirking a little. “I swear I love my job, but sometimes they can be a handful.”
Harry nods and spins on the spot, turning the face the coffee machine and placing the cup underneath the metal nozzle. There’s a spurt and a groan before hot milk starts to pour into the cup.
“Am I right in assuming you’re talking about children, not animals, right?”
The man laughs and Harry blinks up towards the ceiling, whispering a quiet ‘fuck’ as his knees buckle.
“Yep! Early years. I work at the Primary School just down the road. The only animal I have is Eden here, and she’s still asleep the lucky buggar.”
“Eden?” Harry asks, as he places the cheese and meat on top of the bread baked only this morning, crumbing bits of pepper on top and drizzling balsamic vinegar over the sharp cheddar.
He places it into the small oven and turns the timer on.
“Yeah, heh. Sorry. She’s my pet rabbit and the kids go crazy when I bring her in. I hope you don’t mind me bringing her in here? She’s in her carrier so she can’t escape.” Louis looks sheepish, and he rubs the back of his neck while he flicks his eyes up to meet Harry’s; but the look is quickly dissolved when Harry dashes around the counter and asks if he can see her.
Louis nods and steps aside, giving view to the medium sized carrier sat next to his feet.
Harry crouches and sees through the bars, a small golden rabbit, tufts of white fur peeking through the strands. Her nose twitches in sleep and her soft whiskers brush Harry’s fingertips lightly where he’s resting against the metal bars.
“Oh my, she’s so cute.” He whispers, not wanting to wake the sleeping animal.
He peers up at the man from where he’s situated on the floor and realises he’s eye level with the fly of his work pants. He flushes and bends his knees, standing up.
This only makes things worse as he’s now directly facing him, no counter in between their bodies. If Harry were to inch his fingers out, he’d feel just how soft his jumper is. He flexes his knuckles and reminds himself not to think about if his skin is as soft as his voice.
He coughs into his fist and steps back.
“Sorry – uh. I just love animals. And I don’t mind them in the shop,” he nods his head to where a small tank rests next to the till. “I have one of my own to keep me company, too.”
A plump goldfish swims happily from rock to rock, bobbing his tiny mouth as he scoops up the remaining pieces of fish food Harry had sprinkled in earlier.
Louis spins to face the tiny morsel, but only after his eyes drop down to where Harry’s biting his lip, a small bridge of pink scattered over his nose and cheeks.
“Nice.” He says, smiling at Harry once more. “What’s its name?”
Harry walks back around the counter and scoops the cup from underneath the machine and presses the button on the timer, stopping the chirps that are signalling the food is ready.
He places the items down in front of the man and bends to rest his elbows on the counter, reaching one finger out to follow the fish through the glass.
“Phillip.” He huffs, the sound sculpting into an embarrassed laugh.
Louis looks at him with his eyebrows raised, a small grin quirking his lips.
Harry groans quietly and rolls his eyes.
“Please don’t ask – my niece named him and I couldn’t say no.”
Louis laughs and reaches a hand into his pants pocket, pulling out his wallet and sliding his card out of the slot.
“Mate, you don’t need to explain anything to me.” He says. “I deal with 15 of them on a daily basis, why d’ya think I bought a bloody bunny?”
He smirks as he places the card into the reader and enters his pin, and Harry stares at the way the sun is peeking its way in through the windows, causing the man’s hair to shine, highlighting his cheekbones and lightly freckled skin.
He stands there for another couple of seconds before the reader beeps and he pulls his card out.
“Cool, well - I think that’s me.” The man says, slipping his wallet back into his pocket and gathering the items in his hands. “I guess I’ll see you around, uh?” he looks a little expectantly at Harry and smiles, a tiny quirk of his top lip.
“Harry.”
“Louis,” he replies. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around then, Harry.”
Harry manages a wave before the man is out the door, smiling at him through the window one last time before he disappears down the street.
-
It isn’t until Harry’s shutting up shop and wiping down the counters that he spots a small folded piece of paper, wedged in underneath the till.
He frowns and drops the cloth, peeling open the sharp edges until scrawled black writing looks back at him, reading:
“Nice Buns!”
Harry stares at the letters and the scribbly, rushed image of two iced buns smiling and feels a flush work its way from the top of his head to the bottom of his toes.
The thing is, is that Harry doesn’t know who could’ve done this.
The bakery’s been busy non-stop all day and plenty of customers have been in and out over the last eight or so hours, and so he’s confused as to who left him the note.
He pockets the piece of paper and picks up his cloth, continuing to clean.
This time with a small smile etched onto his face.
-
The notes keep appearing after that.
Once a day, in the same spot as before.
Usually, Harry only notices them at the end of his shift, treating them as little surprises after his busy schedule.
Some days there are short sentences, wishing him a good day, and other days there are lyrics from songs that make him smile, every now and then there’s a cheeky one liner that makes him blush.
There’s a small glass jar that sits beside the toaster where he keeps them, day in, day out, the glass gets fuller. Sometimes Harry, after a bad day, will twist the top off and read through them one by one, curling up on the chair by the window and instantly feeling the stress of the day melt from his shoulders, sated happiness washing over him.
He hasn’t yet managed to find the person on the other end of the notes, always too busy to stop and look. And anyway, what would he say if he found out? Yes? Maybe? ‘No Jonathan, if this is you, I’m not into threesomes so stop asking me?’
He kind of likes there being an air of mysteriousness to them.
But he guesses, it wouldn’t be so bad if it turned out to be a certain someone, now would it?
-
It’s after an unusually busy day that has Harry rushing around on his feet and trying to serve a long line of customers that seems never ending, flour dusted through his hair and balancing both dishing out food and cleaning up after people, that come 5 o’clock, he’s exhausted and practically dead on his feet.
He slumps against the counter and rests his head down between his shoulder blades, having a minute to himself and heaving a big sigh, when he hears the telltale sign of footsteps approaching him, shuffling he thinks, a little slowly.
“Hey.”
He whips his head up and sees Louis.
His hair is a mess and there’s a line of purple felt tip staining his cheek. His tie is skewed and the top button of his shirt is undone, Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as he swallows, lightly dusted with midnight scruff.
“Sorry, I know you’re uh-technically closing soon,” he says, “I just wanted to pop in really quick for one of those chocolate chip muffins? My sister’s coming up for a few days and I need something sweet to get me through, long day ‘n all. Which I’m sure you can relate to.”
Harry huffs a laugh and nods his head, turning to face the cabinet full of pastries and frowns when he realises there aren’t any in there. He closes his eyes and sighs.
“Ah, sorry. It looks like we’re out, I have a fresh batch of blueberry in the back if that’s okay?”
Louis nods and smiles and Harry wanders into the back, letting the smell of bread and cookies sprinkle over him as he pulls out one of the trays and picks a particularly plump muffin, bouncy slightly in texture.
He finds Louis in the same spot as he was before, only this time he’s rubbing his eye with his fist, looking even more tired than when he first padded in.
He waves the muffin at Louis who grins in response, arm falling back to his side and walking closer to the counter.
“Let me just wrap this up for you.” Harry says, and places the muffin in a small decorative box, closing the lid and taping it with a sticker.
When Louis’ walking towards the door a couple of minutes later, he looks over his shoulder and says,
“You might wanna check something over there,” nodding his head to a small counter display full of flapjacks, where a piece of paper looks to be slotted in between, sticking up as if waiting to be plucked, “looks like you missed something.”
And then with one last smile that’s bordering on slightly nervous, he’s gone.
-
Ten seconds later when Harry unpicks the paper, the words ‘you bake me crazy, wanna grab a drink sometime?’ look back at him.
He thinks back to the other day and presses his lips together, suppressing a smile and biting his lip.
He knows just what to say.
-
And then, three years later when he stares down at the ring and card with two pieces of bread on the front and reads, ‘I loaf you very much, shall we grow mould together?’
“Yes, love,” Richard said absentmindedly. He smiled a little, flipped a page over in his magazine. He felt Taron’s head settle gently on his shoulder.
“Dickie?”
Richard sighed a little, continued reading. “Yes, love?”
Taron shifted a little and let out a sigh of his own. Richard smiled again as Taron lapsed into silence again.
Then. “...Dickie?”
Richard finally looked up from his magazine, turned and eyed the man on his shoulder. “Taron, love. I’m reading. What?”
Taron looked up at him, his blue eyes meeting Richard’s. “D’you love me?” He looked like a puppy, his face eager, his eyes bright, and Richard almost checked to see if his tail was wagging.
Richard tossed the magazine aside and wrapped his arms around Taron, kissed his forehead gently, so gently. Taron laid his head on Richard’s chest and smiled into his sweater. Richard’s hands rubbed small, lazy circles on Taron’s back.
“Oh, bubs, I love you. So much. Even when you get distracted and pester the hell out of me.” Richard grinned, continuing to rub Taron’s back.
Taron said nothing, and finally Richard looked down at him again. “T? You okay?”
Taron looked up. “What? Oh, sorry, just thinking. Hey, Rich...d’you love me?”
