#Elevation Burger

[lightbulb-warning]

so has anyone figured out WHY there is the Need To Share our Artworks™ or is it just the vibes and our Soul apparently

[memorizableusername]

lowkey a canadaboo like maybe the first in existence

[c0worker-bryce]

Voice claims for Bryce's biological kids.

[br1ghtestlight]

Can you explain the lore of Bob's burgers?

also how long does it take to catch up on Bob's burgers?

i dont know if bob's burgers has **lore** considering it's an episodic sitcom lol the most important thing would just be knowing all of the characters and their relationship w/ each other

very basically its a show about a family that runs a burger restaurant together. bob grew up in his father's restaurant and bcuz of their crappy relationship he wanted to open his own. linda is his wife and tina, gene and louise are his kids all of these characters have their own complex lives and personalities too (and lots of focus on supporting characters in their world like these character's friends and teachers, their landlord and his family, their neighbors and family friends etc) with the other most important character being teddy their handyman/bob's best friend/family friend and the kids' uncle. he's in almost every episode esp later in the show and the unofficial sixth main character

bob's burgers does have like 265+ episodes so you could either watch epidodes in a random order (but run the risk of missing important character introductions/context) or watch them in order and if you were committed you could probably finish in a month or two.....? depends how many episodes u wanna knock out in a day but i think for me it took a few weeks

[automatic-midnight]

My biased, really unpopular take is that I think rit/su/maya is an objectively boring ship.

[whyisablog]

Had a dream recently where I was trying to get home from boston through the back roads (roads that obviously avoid the highway cause i hate driving on the highway irl) and driving through cities both kinda looked like driving home from work and walking through a mall/trader joes/omega mart, las vegas you know the one.

Anyway after checking a map, which was actually somewhat legible though was far too short of a distance to be plausible, me and my traveling companions passed through this coastal town that featured a salt water cranberry bog maze as it's main tourist attraction. Since we missed out on the local traveling carnival, we said fuck it, and decided to try it out.

The idea here was to go through the maze on your little paddle boat- imagine an innertube from a roaring rapids theme park ride but swan boat style -through the deep water with not only the bog spiders in mind, but also the cranberry dolphins that not only looked and acted like mini orca whales, but frequented the maze with the sole intent to terrorize patrons. Mostly because these paddle boats had open bottoms like flinstones cars and peoples feet looked like delicious, delectable swedish fish to these guys, but that's beside the point. (This was also, very much, a large part of the point.)

These dolphins immediately were the main concern over the bog spiders, as you can imagine. As soon as we found out about the dolphins, we paddled towards the exit.

The dolphins then capsized our vessel and we were forced to wade to the docks for safety.

My favorite part about this was not the burgandy psuedo orcas, but the little nature walk/dangerous jungle style signs warning us about them and the bog spiders, despite the spiders not even making an appearance, though the signs were kind of small and too far away from where the boats tended to travel to be great warnings... Also the cranberry bog looked more like an overgrown yet nicely organized saltwater marsh but taller and more jungle like.

[ichorcenter]

Whats that??

"A smoothie!"

"Bunger!!!"

[jackalxhearts]

okay but what fancy restaurant has chicken tenders on the menu ??

[mymelodic-chapel]

Mr. Elevator & The Brain Hotel- Nico & Her Psychedelic Subconscious (Neo-Psychedelia, Psychedelic Rock, Psychedelic Pop) Released: October 23, 2013 [Burger Records]

[battybat604]

Hello! Back with illustrations for Chapter 4 of @frownyalfred's Love Comes Quickly. Redid that burger image because Bruce didn't seem relaxed enough... and help! Batman and Superman are fighting in the League elevator! 😁 Previous posts: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

[raven-dor]

tell me you love me

in which bucky barnes is told some startling news on the phone…

PAIRING: bucky barnes x reader, bucky barnes x avenger!reader

WARNINGS: miscommunication, nosy roommates, sass, sam wilson teasing peter parker, fluff ending

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

🎶 : two hands - tate mcrae

AN: 🩵💗 - literally one of my favorite fics i've ever written!! also, this is a Avengers live in the tower AU, no civil war ever occurred, so yay!! ALSO - let me know if you want to be on my taglist!! i'd love to have you!!

It had been out of nowhere. You hadn’t even realized the gravity of the situation until you were met with silence from the other line. 

“What’s for dinner?” His gruff voice had shivers running down your spine.

“I don’t know.” You hummed, the phone tucked between your shoulder and ear as you walked down the grocery store aisles. “What are you craving?” 

“Burgers?” It was more of a question, he was waiting for you to confirm you were also craving said meal. He always did this, waiting for you to decide before he made his decision. It was not missed by you that earlier that week, you’d talked about how badly you craved a classic cheeseburger.

You laughed, the others in the aisle giving you annoyed looks, not that you minded. “You’re not as subtle as you think you are, Barnes.” 

“Oh?” You could tell he was holding back laughter. “You would think after all that time in HYRDA...” 

“Bucky!” You yelled, this time noticing the looks your fellow shoppers gave you. Whispering, you chuckled to yourself. “Don’t joke about that.” 

“Why not?” He was most certainly frowning. 

“If that’s how you want to cope…” You trailed off, looking at the price tag on the buns, eyes widening at the amount and quickly setting them back down. “You sleep well?” 

“Next to you? Always.” He sounded spirited, much more spirited than he’d been when you left him to go shopping. Good, you told yourself, he was too often found brooding alone, it was nice to hear him so… so mischievous. “You know I do, Doll.” 

Your cheeks felt like they were on fire, biting your bottom lip to keep from grinning too widely. “I know. Just wanted to hear you say it.” 

Grabbing the meat from the deli counter, you walked toward the checkout, frowning when you saw that the self-checkout kiosks were out of order. “Babe?” 

He hummed. 

“I’m gonna have to let you go, okay? The kiosks are out of order.” 

He groaned. “Again?”

You nodded as if he could see you. “Unfortunately.” 

“I’ll see you soon, then.” 

“See you soon. I love you.” The peace before the realization had been fleeting, reality hitting you like a truck. Almost instantly, your heart flipped, and your eyes widened.

Bucky had been dead silent, and you secretly hoped your voice had cut out, that the service had saved you, and he hadn’t heard it. 

Not that you didn’t mean it. You’d loved him for longer than you cared to admit, but with his past, you hadn’t wanted to rush anything. You didn’t want him to feel forced. Like right now.

“Buck?” You whispered, eyes welling at his lack of response. “Are you there?” Again, no response. You pushed the red button, hands shaking as the call disconnected.

Shit. 

Which led you to now, racing home without the food you’d promised. When the team had decided to all live in the tower together, they made a pact. If you asked anyone else, it had been more of a forced pact, thanks to Steve. 

Each Avenger would make dinner, alternating every night. Today had been your day, and now not only were you coming home empty-handed, but you were also planning to drop off the face of the Earth, which completely defeated the purpose of your job and its responsibilities. 

It was a wonder, you told yourself as you waited for the elevator doors to open, that Bucky hadn’t been there to meet you in the lobby, waiting for an explanation. Or worse, disgust on his perfect face. 

You kept your head down as you landed on the top floor, all but running to your room. Slamming the door behind you, you ordered Friday to bar everyone from entering.

The computer system spoke back, voice as posh as ever. “Does that include Mr. Barnes?” 

“Yes.” You huffed, heart thumping. “Especially Mr. Barnes.” 

“Has something happened?”

“You could say that.” Checking under your bed, the balcony, the closet, and the bathroom, a sigh of relief left you knowing that Bucky wasn’t already there, hiding.

Everything had been perfect, up until your slip. He asked to take it slow, mainly due to ‘not wanting to disrupt the team dynamic.’ You’d understood, and you’d also understood that he had another reason, one that he wouldn’t speak aloud, but that you both knew. 

He wanted to take it slow and slow did not contain saying ‘I love you’ four months after you started dating. 

A knock rang through your room, breaking you from your thoughts. Looking at the door with fear pumping through your veins, you waited for him to speak. 

“Y/N?” 

You’d almost sighed with relief. Almost. “Yeah?” 

“What’d you end up getting for dinner?” Nat called out. “Wilson’s asking.” 

“I-” Grabbing your wallet, you slid your credit card under the door. “Order whatever you want.” 

“Okay.” Nat sounded curious. “So, what happened?” 

“Why- why would you ask that?” 

“Other than the fact you won’t show your face, and Friday is barricading me from entering?” The super-spy sounded fed up. “What did he do?” 

“He?” Your voice was a mere squeak. 

“Yes, he. Everyone knows you two are dating, don’t act so surprised. It’s my job to know these sorts of things.” 

You glared at the door. “That’s not at all your job, Natasha.” 

“What’s going on?” 

You groaned, shoving your face into your pillow. At this point, the whole team would know your business by dinner. “Go away, Wanda.” 

“What’s happened?” The Sokovian whispered.

“Barnes did something,” Nat muttered. “Won’t say what exactly, but-” 

“Nat!” You yelled, lifting your head. “I can hear you, you know.” 

“Let us in, Y/N.” Wanda sounded as if she was frowning. “What did he do that was so bad-” 

“It wasn’t him.” You sighed. “It- it was me.” 

“What happened?” Wanda’s voice was gentle. “You can tell us.” 

“I really can’t.” You whined. “One second.” Grabbing a piece of paper from your desk, you scribbled down the infamous three words, slipping it under the door. “Shit, Y/L/N. Isn’t that a little soon?” 

Your eyes widened. “What the hell, you two? Why is Sam there?” 

Wanda sounded deeply apologetic. “It’s not just Sam.” 

“I’m here too.” Peter squeaked. 

“Me too.” Tony’s voice sounded much too entertained, and you glared at the door.

“Yeah!” Clint sounded suspiciously high like he was in the vents again. You reminded yourself to reprimand him when the dust cleared. 

“Y/N! Why are you hiding in your room?” Thor’s thunderous voice rang clear over the rest of the supposed crowd that had formed. 

“Thor.” Bruce sounded extremely annoyed. “We’re inside, you don’t need to shout.” 

“Yeah, what the green guy said.” Rhodey’s voice echoed. 

“Go away!” You yelled, sitting against the door. “I-” 

“What’s going on here?” Steve’s voice sounded distant, like he was walking down the hall. You squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for him to do what everyone else had done. 

But it never came. 

“Have any of you seen Buck? Last time I saw him, he was on the phone. Haven’t seen him since.” 

You were certain Nat and Tony were smirking. “Why don’t you ask Y/N.” 

“Why? Are they together?” 

Tony sounded like he was holding back tears, not from sadness, but from laughter. “After this? Questionable.” 

“Tony!” You yelled, smacking the door. “Shut up!” 

“Give me that.” Getting off the floor, you looked through the peephole, watching in horror as he read the paper. “Break it up, all of you.” Protests broke out, all of them yelling at Steve. “We’re not talking about this any longer. It’s not our business.” 

“C’mon-” 

Steve glared at the billionaire, and he instantly shut up. “Tony.” 

He raised his hands in defeat. “Fine, fine. What’s for dinner then?” 

“Whatever you want.” You yelled out. “Just use my card.”

Tony shook his head. “After the day you’ve had, it’s my treat.” 

You nodded, a faint smile gracing your lips. “Just leave the food at my door when it gets here.” 

“No.” Steve’s hands were on his hips, and you could see Peter and Wanda holding back laughter. He looked like a concerned father. “You will leave your room and have dinner with the rest of us.” 

“Yeah, Y/N.” Tony echoed, not even trying to hide his laughter. “C’mon out.” 

“Steve, please.” You begged. “I can’t see him right now.” 

“He’s not even here, дорогой (sweetheart),” Wanda yelled out. “Please come out, we’re worried about you.” 

“I am not leaving.” You shook your head. “You can’t make me.” 

The dinner table was quiet, the entirety of the Avengers (minus Bucky) staring at you with utter fascination. Well, more like a mix of pity, worry, and fascination. 

Peter cleared his throat, smiling kindly. “Don’t worry, Y/N. I did the same thing, and it all turned out fine.” 

That brought you some inkling of hope. “Really?” 

The teenager nodded. “She was very nice about it. We’re still friends.” 

Your face fell, dropping your head into your hands. The table erupted with laughter, and Peter’s cheeks grew bright red in record time. 

“Not exactly the smartest thing you could’ve said there, kid.” Tony snickered.

“Ease up, Tony,” Steve interjected. “He’s trying, unlike all of you.” 

“He meant well.” Vision finally spoke, much to everyone’s surprise. “There was no malice in his tone.” 

Clint smirked. “Yeah, Y/N. No malice. Does that bring you comfort?”

You raised your right hand, flipping him off.  

Sam shook his head. “I just want to eat, man. Eat, and see Bucky’s reaction.” 

Sitting up, you glared at the Falcon. “You’re excited for my demise, you psychopath.” 

“Not exactly.” 

“What’s-” The table turned around, dead silent as they stared at the Winter Soldier, who looked perfectly fine, content even. He stood in front of them with a bright smile, food in hand. “What’s going on?” 

“What’s going on?” Tony raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t you tell us?” You wished your superpower was invisibility. Unfortunately, it was not, so you opted for sinking further into your seat. “Nothing happened recently you want to share?” 

His smile fell. “No?”

Sam groaned, standing up and pulling the food from the super soldier’s hands. “Please. I’m starving.” 

Nat laughed. “I thought you wanted to see his reaction.” 

“Reaction?” Bucky sounded confused. “Reaction to what, exactly?” 

Thor was the final push. “I love you!” 

“I love you too?” Bucky sat down, eyes brightening when he met yours. You quickly stared at your hands, which were placed in tight balls in your lap. 

“Not me. Y/N. The words Y/N-” 

Clint slapped a hand over Thor’s mouth, glaring. “That’s enough out of you, big guy.” 

“What?” Bucky tilted his head, staring at you, with what seemed to be a glimpse of hope in his gaze. “When did you-” 

“On the phone?” Nat interjected. “You were on the phone, and Y/N said-” 

“Nat.” You hissed. “Stop, please.” 

“Y/N?” Bucky looked at you. “What’s going on?” 

So the phone had cut out. The phone had cut out, meaning if you had just kept your big mouth shut, everything would have been fine. 

And if Thor hadn’t opened his mouth, maybe you could have made it out with your dignity. “Nothing, James.” Reaching out, you grabbed your order from the pile, the rest of the Avengers following suit. Bucky stayed still, staring at you intently. 

You tried to focus on your dinner, on the conversation that started after, but every time you looked up, he was staring at you with his ice-blue eyes. “Doll?” The table quieted, staring at the pair. “Can we talk?” 

You swallowed the food that you’d been chewing, nodding slowly. You felt like you were being marched to your death as you followed him out of the dining room. Sparing one last look at the dinner table, Wanda and Peter gave you a half-hearted thumbs up. 

The hall was dim, Bucky’s eyes bore into your soul as he waited for an explanation. “Tell me what happened.” 

“Nothing-” You grew small when he sighed, crossing his arms. “It’s really not that big of a deal.” 

“Yeah?” He smirked, but you could tell he was panicking. You told each other everything, you were sure he was breaking a sweat from your lack of transparency. “Then tell me.” You stayed silent, and he took a step forward, practically backing you up against the wall. “Please, Doll.” 

You were sure this was a nightmare. A horrible horrible nightmare. “We were on the phone… and I um… I may or may not have said that I love you.” He did not react, continuing to stare at you. That’d made you even more nervous, and you began to ramble as a result. “And you didn’t reply, so I panicked, and then I hung up. I came home and hid in my room and then everyone found out and then I found out you didn’t even hear it, and-” You took a shallow breath. “I don’t want you to feel rushed or forced because I want you to feel comfortable, because I really do-” You stopped, looking up at him hesitantly. “I really do love you.” He was fully grinning now, and you frowned. “Are you about to laugh at me?” 

He shook his head placing his hand on the wall above you as he leaned down. “No.” 

“No?” You scoffed, ignoring the way his eyes had darkened. “You’re smirking, and I’m being vulnerable and you’re- you-” You huffed, walking away from him. “Maybe we should just-” Escape had almost been achieved when his metal hand wrapped around your wrist, spinning you around. “Stop.” You felt trapped in a spell, a horrifyingly beautiful spell. He stared at you so intensely that your knees buckled. “Buck-” 

He was still grinning. “I love you too.” 

“I-” You smiled. “You do?” 

“C’mon Doll.” He teased, brushing his nose against yours as he reached for your lips. “Of course I do.”

“Yeah?” You whispered, still not believing this was real life. “You-” His lips were rushed; like he needed to kiss you to live. Placing his other arm around your waist, he pulled you impossibly close, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. He could have gone on kissing you senseless for hours, but you pulled away, gasping for air. “Buck-” 

“You are so considerate, too considerate even.” He whispered. “I did want to take things slow, you’re right.” 

You nodded. “If you-” 

“Did I-” He kissed you before you could finish your sentence. “Or did I not,” He kissed you so gently, so longingly. “Just tell you that I love you too?” 

You were positively weak in the knees. “You did.” 

“I did want to take things slow, but you…” He almost growled. “You happened.” 

“Oh?” You were grinning now, actually grinning. “I’m assuming I happened in a good way.” 

“In a perfect way.” He corrected, pushing a hair out of your face and tucking it behind your ear. “You’re too good for me, Doll. Don’t deserve you.” 

“I don’t know, Barnes.” You shook your head, kissing the corner of his mouth so lightly he could have sworn it never happened. “You’re pretty swell.” 

He rolled his eyes, pushing you away teasingly. “Never mind then.” 

You gasped, stalking back into the dining room, the Avengers observing from the safe distance the table provided. “In that case-” 

His hand wrapped around your wrist once more, pulling your lips to his instantly. Wolf whistles erupted, all of them laughing at the couple in front of them. Your hands rested on his chest, smiling as he pulled away, lips still touching. “Did you really have to do that?” 

He shrugged. “Just wanted another reason to kiss you.” 

“So sappy.” You teased. “What a charmer you are.” 

“Well,” He leaned toward your ear, whispering. “I aim to please.” 

“Break it up!” Sam yelled, mouth full of food. “I’m trying to eat here. Plus…” He pointed to Peter, laughing. “There’s kids present.” 

“I’m eighteen, Sam.” 

“Still a kid, Parker.” 

taglist: @milesdrift

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO JOIN!

[cholerascum]

time away part 2. part 1

i struggled to recall ALL the places i was brought to while away. i tried food from so many different places, had experiences id never have otherwise. and god the cafes were so goddamn cozy.

the first place we went was unlike anything ive been to before, and holy shit there were an astonishing amount of dildos and weed. i was genuinely taken aback. maybe im just sheltered skull emoji. tho i did get a trinket! that i promptly broke at the end of the week!

despite getting so winded so easily during laser tag i still had lots of fun. that was the day i really got a chance to meet like. everyone. and ive never felt so welcomed and like i belonged. no one has ever welcomed me with such open arms, let alone like a dozen people all at once.

god and the food. the fucking food!!!!!! normally i fucking hate leftovers, especially microwaved leftovers! but even the next day the food fucked hard. dying to have more.

and ive never liked coffee, especially black, but i figured "what the hell, i'll cosplay as pretty much every other adult". needless to say, i did not care for the coffee. i tried coffee twice and i couldnt do it either time. fuck coffee.

we went skating, we went to a restaurant we struggled to find and had to take an elevator to get to, we went to a burger place i was recommended on the train and goddamn it was expensive. and my only regret is not getting a picture of all of us at the one place the night before i left, but my makeup was all worn off and i highkey needed to shave.

next parts about the seizure i had mwah!

[menagerofmischief]

hi! could i place an order for olives and cheese and a hot appetizer. i'd also like fish tacos, veggie burger, and hot dog. then for the drinks, could i get ice tea, champagne, and an espresso (fem dom reader if you’re okay with that). i don't need dessert but if you want to add it that's okay! and for the servers i’d like charles leclerc and max verstappen. p.s my fav track is spa

Dia's Diner Menu / Masterlist

olives and cheese friends to lovers hot appetizer sweet sex fish tacos "Just lie back and let me take care of you" veggie burger "Feel how hard you make me" hot dog "Thought about you while touching myself. The real thing is much better" ice tea oral champagne threesome espresso dom/sub (dom!reader) light dessert some aftercare + moussaka "You look your best covered in my cum"

boyfriend!Max Verstapen x girlfriend!reader x bsf!Charles Leclerc

TW: oral (m!receiving/f!receiving), face sitting, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, PiV, PiA, threesome mmf, charles gets used (sexually), switch!max, dom!reader, sub!charles, MxM action, degradation, praise, semi public sex (car), inappropriate elevator behaviour, unprotected sex x2, cumming inside, cumming on someone, no real plot mostly just porn, also smut straight under the cut

WC: 3.2k

A/N: this is like filthy filthy - I got started and I couldn't stop. also, in this fic reader and max are dating and charles is their best friend.

request more lestappen x reader pls ...

“Fuck,” I say, my voice laced with a laugh as I look down at the man in front of me. “Is that what you wanted?”

Max whines, his eyes glassy as he desperately tries to thrust up into my hand despite me pushing his hips down. I laugh at him, finally bringing my hand back down to his hard dick, wrapping it around him and giving him a few strokes, running my thumb across the slit which had him moaning.

“I think I asked you a question?” I say, gripping his length just a bit harder. “Is that what you’ve been thinking about, you little whore? Bringing your best friend into our bed.”

“Yes,” Max moans, catching his bottom lip between his teeth, his cheeks flushed and chest raising and falling with each desperate breath he takes. “Yes, fuck, I can’t stop thinking about it. Since -”

He cuts himself off with a loud whine, his head falling backwards when I lean down and wrap my lips around his tip, circling it with my tongue. I pull back, a string of saliva still connecting me to him and lay a slap against his thigh. “Didn’t tell you to stop talking.”

I kitten lick his tip before placing kisses down his length lower and lower until I’m finally running my tongue along his balls.

Max moans loudly and I can feel his thighs tense as he tries to keep himself from thrusting his body upwards. I look up at him through my eyelashes, the massage clear in my eyes. Keep talking.

“A, fuck fuck … a few days ago when you were walking with him from Ferrari to RedBull, and he had his arm on your back and you were laughing at something he said.” Max’s hand goes to my hair, his fingers tangling into the strands but he doesn’t pull, just holds my hair as I keep working my mouth on his cock. “You two looked so hot together - can’t help it!”

“Oh baby,” I cooed, pulling away and wrapping one of my hands around him instead. “You saw us talking together and suddenly all you can think about is a threesome. You desperate dirty whore.”

“He wants it too,” Max babbled, his eyes rolling back from pleasure. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“And I’ve seen the way you look at him,” I shot back, speeding up the movement of my hand. “Let me tell you something Maxie, I would be more than happy to have a threesome with Charles but if you want it that bad, you’re the one who has to do something about it. Does that work for you?”

“Yes, yes!” He said, his voice desperate. “I’ll do it, swear! I’ll ask him!” Max whined, his abdomen tensing and I could tell that he was close. “I’m gonna cum! Please let me cum!”

“Cum,” I said before leaning down and taking all of him into my mouth, gagging a little when I felt his tip rub against the back of my throat. It only took a few bobs of my head and Max was cumming, shooting his load down my throat, moaning like a whore.

✿ ✿ ✿

It’s a few days later, the conversation just barely lingering in the back of my mind, that something happens. 

We’re on our way back from a grid get together, just something for the drivers and the WAG’s. All three of us, Max, Charles and me. Max was sitting in the front, his eyes focused on the road, and I was in the back with Charles, deciding to keep him company rather than let him sit in the back alone. That was possibly a bad move on my side.

It was a logical thing, to offer to drive Charles back, seeing as we lived in the same building and it was too late for him to bike back home. That didn’t mean that the situation in the car was comfortable - in fact, the tension was so thick it felt suffocating, even with the windows rolled down and the wind running through my hair as Max sped down the streets of Monaco.

It was quiet, not even the radio playing, which probably contributed to the tension. I was about to open my mouth, say something, say anything really as the silence was becoming unbearable.

But instead the only thing that came out of my mouth was a gasp. A gasp, as Charles put his hand on my naked thigh, where my dress had ridden up, his thumb rubbing circles into my skin. A gasp, as my eyes met Max’s in the rear-view mirror, his eyes scrunched up letting me know he was smirking.

This was planned.

This was discussed.

Between the two of them. 

I had told Max that if he wanted a threesome with Charles he was going to be the one to discuss it with him. Apparently he had - and I wasn’t about to complain.

I looked over to Charles, a hint of hesitation still visible in his eyes. “Well,” I said, my voice finally breaking the silence we had fallen into. “Are you gonna keep your hand there or are you gonna be a good boy and do something?”

Charles’s eyes widened, his pupils dilating and his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed his spit. 

I could hear Max laugh from the front of the car. “Go on Charles,” he said, his voice holding a teasing tone. “I’ll even give you a challenge. Make her cum before we reach the building.”

I can’t help the amused laugh that escapes me. While more often than not when we were having sex Max was leaning onto the much more submissive side he did enjoy taking control from time to time. Seems like Charles was going to get the privilege of seeing one of those times. 

Charles doesn’t need to be told twice, his hand moving up my thigh and slipping underneath my dress. His breath hitches when his fingers brush directly against my slit, my arousal coating his fingers.

His eyes meet mine and as we pass under one of the street lights I can see how flushed his cheeks had gotten. “Panties didn’t do with the dress,” I said, licking my lips. I thought about it for a second before leaning forward and kissing him, gently pulling on his bottom lip with my teeth.

Charles whines into the kiss and finally his fingers brush over my clit and I let out a satisfied hum. He runs his fingers through my folds a few times, coating them in my wetness before slowly pushing one inside of me.

He thrusts it into me a few times before getting more comfortable and adding another finger in. “Oh there we go Charlie,” I say, my voice slightly breathless. “Feels so good, baby, keep going.”

I can see his eyes light up at the praise and the movement of his fingers starts to speed up  His fingers curl each time he pushed them back inside, rubbing just right against my most sensitive spot and he brings his thumb down to my clit, flicking it in time to match the thrusts of his fingers.

He works fast, he’s desperate and soon enough he’s bringing me to the edge of an orgasm. Looking to the front I can see Max is holding the wheel with only one hand and rather obviously palming himself through his jeans with the other. Maybe I’d be doing that while driving but he is a 3 times racing world champion so it doesn’t really matter.

I moan, feeling the pressure and burning in my stomach and grab onto Charles’s arm to steady myself and keep his hand there. “You’re gonna me cum, Charlie,” I say, my voice cracking. “Keep going!”

It’s only a few more thrusts of his fingers and flicks of my clit and I’m cumming, my orgasm coating his fingers. 

Charles pulls his fingers out, glistening with the remains of my arousal and orgasm, and without any hesitation pops them into his mouth. He sucks on his fingers, leaking them clean and moaning at the taste.

“You taste so good, cheri.” He says, his voice breathy. “Better than I imagined. I thought about you while touching myself,” he admits, leaning forward and placing kisses along my collarbones. “The real thing is much better.”

Max groans from the front and I’m about to reach forward and palm Charles over his jeans when the car pulls up into the garage. 

“Ride’s over, boys.” I said, a small smirk on my lips. “Come on, we’re going up to our apartment.”

It’s a wonder we even make it to the elevator, thankfully empty, before their hands are all over me. As soon as the elevator doors close Max is pulling me forward, his lips pressing against mine roughly and his hand slipping between my thighs to run his fingers over my pussy.

Charles is behind me, his hands groping my tits, lips pressed against my neck as he grinds his hard cock into my ass.

“You feel that, cheri?” Charles asks, his accent thick. He pushes his hips forward, his dick rubbing against my ass. “Feel how hard you make me?”

I pull away from Max and turn around to face Charles with a hum, Grabbing onto his shirt I pull him down enough to kiss him. He groans into the kiss but I am soon pulling back and stepping away, moving to stand behind Max, my hands running over his chest.

It’s silent for a moment, the elevator filled with the sound of heavy breathing as the two of them look at each other. And then something snaps and Charles surged forward, both of his hands cupping Max’s face as he smashes his lips against Max’s.

I had to admit it, seeing the two of them kiss was even more attractive than I thought it was going to be. They pulled away just as the elevator dinged before the doors slid open on our floor.

All three of us rushed out and down the hallway, Max fumbling with the keys before opening the front door and then kicking it closed once we were all inside. As soon as the door is closed we waste no time, immediately moving to the bedroom.

I start unbuttoning Charles’s shirt, my fingers moving along every inch of his revealed skin while Max unzips my dress from behind me and pulls it off my body, leaving me only in my bra.  

I finally push Charles’s shirt off and hear shuffling behind me, letting me know Max is taking off his clothes. Charles makes quick work of his pants and then reaches forward, his arms going around me, fingers hooking under my bra and opening it.

Max presses his chest against my back, his dick sliding between my bare thighs, his tip catching against my clit causing me to let out a little moan. Charles takes my bra off and immediately he’s leaning down, running his tongue along the skin of tit before wrapping his lips around my nipple and sucking while his fingers toy with the other one. 

I can feel Max move away because the feel of him between my legs is gone. He moves to the other side of the room, pulling out an all too familiar box of toys and rummaging through it before he pulls out a bottle of lube.

I catch his eye and give him a smirk and silently we agree how the rest of the night is going to be going.

I push my hand into Charles’s hair, wrapping it around his locks and pulling his head back. He whines, his lips slightly swollen and glazed with saliva, his eyes meet mine. I let go of his hair and cup his cheek, running my thumb over his skin. 

“You’re so pretty, baby.” I say, gently pushing against his stomach with one hand to guide him back towards the bed. His knees hit the edge of the bed and I push him down, a smile on my lips. “Just lie back and let us take care of you, pretty boy.”

“Please,” Charles whines, and obediently moves himself up along the bed, settling down into the mattress once his head is resting on a pillow.

I crawl up to him, straddling his chest and can feel his abs rubbing against my clit. “Now Charlie,” I said, my fingers ghosting over his chest. “Max is going to finger you pretty ass and then when he’s stretched you he’s going to fuck your ass while I ride your cock. Does that sound okay baby?”

Charles whined, his bottom lip caught between his teeth and he nodded his head desperately, his hands gripping my waist. “Yes please! Please -”

I could hear the bottle cap opening and liquid squirting and then Charles moaned and I knew Max had started touching him. 

Charles’s hands grip my waist, his blunt nails digging into my skin as Max works him open. Behind me I can hear Max laugh, his voice ringing against the walls of the bedroom. “You should see how well he’s taking it. Like a proper slut.”

“Fuck, Y/n,” Charles moans, making me look down at him with a curious look. “Need to taste you, need it.” He babbles through moans, “Sit on my face. Please, ride my face.”

I don’t even think it through, too turned on to even entertain the possibility of declining, and why would I want to decline. I move up and turn around so I’m facing down Charles’s body and looking at Max, before lovering my hips down to Charles’s face.

His nose nudges against my clit, pulling a breathy moan from me as he starts thrusting his tongue into my hole, eating me like a man starved. I help him out a bit by moving my hips slightly, rubbing my clit onto his nose.

“How’s it going Max?” I ask, my voice teasing.

He smiles in reply, two of his fingers buried into Charle’s asshole and he’s thrusting them in. “Going good, schat.” He replies, leaning forward over Charles’s body to kiss me. 

I can feel another orgasm approaching me and so can Charles because he wraps his lips around my clit, his tongue flicking the bundle of nerves and shoves two fingers inside of me, curling them right into my G-spot.

I come with a loud moan, my thighs closing around his head. After taking a moment to calm down from my orgasm I move myself off his face just as Max removes his fingers. 

“I think he’s ready,” Max says, already pouring lube on his dick. I move forward, squirting some lube onto my own hand before stroking Max with it, helping him lube his dick. “You ready, Charles?”

“Yes,” Charles says. His voice sounds slightly broken, a bit hoarse. “Fuck me. Both of you fuck me. Please.”

I wait for Max to push his cock in first. He’s hissing as he pushes the cockhead in and then the rest of his length. Charles is moaning in pleasure when Max finally bottoms out, lodged balls deep inside of him.

I straddle Charles again, I’m facing him with my back turned to Max. Max rubs my shoulder with one hand, leaning forward enough for his lips to brush the shell of my ear when he speaks. “I’ll hold his cock, you sink down.”

My mouth drops open as Max guides the tip of Charles’s dick to my opening, a breathy moan falling past my lips as I begin to sink down on his cock. 

Charles is moaning so loud I’m sure there will be several noise complaints the next morning but I can’t bring myself to care. Not when he feels so good inside of me. 

“Ready, schat?”

“Ready, Max.”

Max and I start moving at the same time. I’m lifting my hips up halfway up Charles’s dick before lowering myself back down and behind me Max is thrusting into his hole.

Already sensitive from my previous orgasms I find myself quickly approaching another one. I can tell Charles is close too, his dick twitching inside of me. His cheeks are redder than his car, his eyes filled with tears.

I lean forward gently pressing my lips to his. “You gonna cum, pretty boy?” I ask, my lips brushing against his with every word. “Gonna be a good boy and cum for me?”

“Yes! Ah! Cumming!”

And that’s all he manages to say  before he’s shooting ropes of cum into me, filling me with his warm cum. I clench around his dick, my own orgasm washing over me, making me close my eyes and throw my head back, a moan caught in the back of my throat.

Charles whines and I don’t even realize it’s because Max pulled out until Max is kneeling on the bed next to me. His eyes find mine and he gives me a desperate look, pleas rolling off his tongue.

I move my hand down, wrapping it around his dick and start jerking him off. It only takes a few strokes and he’s cumming, shooting his load across Charles’s chest and covering him in his cum.

Max pants, trying to catch his breath, his chin resting on my shoulder. “Fucking hell, Leclerc.” He says, slightly out of breath. “You always look hot but damnit, you look your best covered in my cum.”

Charles hides his blushing face into his hands, mumbling out a muffled thank you. Max smiles before getting up and going over to the bathroom to get a towel while I make my way over to the kitchen for some water.

After making it back to bed just in time to see Max finish cleaning Charles up he gently spreads my legs open as well, wiping the cum from my pussy. I pass him one glass of water while offering the other to Charles.

“Here, Charlie, drink some water.” I say, knowing he’s probably too out of it to actually make a move for the glass, I bring to his lips. He drinks about half the glass until he decides he’s done and I put it down on the floor next to the bed.

Finally he snaps out of his trance, his eyes focusing on me and Max. When he speaks, the insecurity is unmistakable in his voice. “Should I get going?” He asks, his voice cracking. “I know you guys are probably tired. Just give me a minute, I’m not sure my legs are working properly.”

Max and I share a look, both of us shaking our heads.

“You don’t have to leave, Charles.” Max says, “We’d love to have you stay.”

Charles looks over to me, his eyes giving away just how vulnerable he’s feeling in the moment. I smile gently at him and nod my head, and he lets out a breath, his shoulders slumping.

“I’d love to stay,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

Max and I smile at him before moving on either side of him and laying down, quickly melting into the bed. We fall asleep as one big cuddle pile.

[sheepispink]

The Perfect Pair

Masterlist AO3

WC: 7.6k Tags: fluff, marriage of convenience, leon kennedy/ reader

Summary: Leon can barely hold himself upright most days and you've finally decided to ditch the DSO life in pursuit of happiness. However, that'd mean leaving all those beautiful tax benefits and medical insurance behind. Turns out Leon and Chris are pretty persuasive, landing you as Leon's 'wife' but you cant help but start to feel something more, unaware that Leon's already set his eyes on you for life.

It’d been a long day at work, the usual really— Chris had roped him into dealing with another bioweapon appearance, thus leading him to take a helicopter to some trashy place, locating the bioweapon, and promptly knocking its freaky nature out of action. Now he lugged his weary feet home to the apartment you shared, his stomach craving a taste of something only your skilled hands would prepare for him. After a short elevator trip that thankfully alleviated the ache of his feet for a moment, he reached the front door and, with a quick fumble with the keys he had inserted the right one inside, opening the door.

“I’m home.” He calls out, his raspy voice filling the silent yet serene space before him. He somehow grew used to this; the sight of two sets of keys on the hook, the vast difference in style as he places his shoes on the rack, and the two coats on the bannister, one far smaller than the other. “Smells good..” He mumbles beneath his breath, making his way towards the kitchen where you stand, back facing him as you work your hands through a ball of minced meat.

“Welcome home.” You turn to meet his hungry gaze with your typical warm smile, heart warming at the exhausted look on his face and even more so that he’d soon find relief in the food you had made.

“You’re lucky, we had just enough mince meat in the freezer for your favourite beef burgers.” That was a lie. You had woken up early this morning and decided he had looked far too tired recently, and it’d been far too long since he’d had his favourite meal. So, as any good wife does, you wanted to make him feel better and took to the nearest supermarket, picking up all the ingredients you needed and some for a tasty dessert too. He always denied that he enjoyed sweet treats, but he would always be the first to finish them, whether it was a sweet chocolate mousse or a tasty doughnut you picked up on the way home.

He chuckles, his hand disappearing into his work jacket as he slips off the leather and lays it on the back of a wooden chair. It then migrates to his collar, tugging on it to alleviate the heat through his body, which is proven by the thin layer of sweat covering his limbs.

“Oh? Thanks, I was sure you finished it last week when you gave Kitty a gourmet meal for once.”

This home wouldn’t be complete without its resident cat, a Siamese fur ball that Leon graciously named ‘Kitty’ though he has no doubt referred to it with a million different names anyway.

“I guess I must've missed a bit. I really treated her for nothing.” While he was smirking, your mind was far from the lightheartedness of this conversation, currently panicking over his words. He had seriously caught you out there; of course you finished the mince, last week but was he actually accusing you of lying or worse—did he know? As you let out an awkward chuckle, he speaks up again, undoing his belt with one hand as his other grabs a glass from the shelf to fill with water. “I’m not complaining though; they really are my favourites for a reason.” He drinks down the glass of water in one swig, letting out a satisfied breath before rolling his shoulders back. “I’m gonna take a quick shower—I don't want to drown your nose with my sweat.” He chuckles again, finally leaving you alone in the kitchen again as he takes his path up the stairs to your shared bedroom.

To say your relationship with him was complicated was a massive understatement; it was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, feelings that felt illicit, and signals that were impossible to decipher. Well, for you it felt like this—you’re not so sure about him. In fact, for someone who sleeps beside him nearly everyday, cooks him meals, eats dinner with him, and even drops off his lunch, you barely knew anything about the man.

This all began when you decided to quit the DSO, finally having enough money to move to a more peaceful job with flexible hours and still end up supporting yourself. You had only worked in communications at the DSO, but that was still a pain in itself. Before you left, they had an informal work dinner. A bunch of agents and other workers came along to a diner for some food before heading to mess around at a karaoke place before the weekend hit. With so many people around, it grew far too hot too quickly, and you soon wandered the halls seeking a breath of fresh air before you heard your name called by an agent. The voice belonged to Chris Redfield–your superior—who was beckoning you to come over, cigarette in hand, to where he stood with Leon right beside him. They were both your superiors in the work field but were perceived as far more important due to the missions they accomplished and lives they saved.

“Yes..?”

You were more confused than scared or anything of the like—why did they even want to talk to you? It’s not like you often saw them. Even so, you walked over to them, trying to reduce the awkwardness when you slipped your hands into the pockets of your jacket, tilting your head slightly.

“You’re gonna leave soon, right?” Leon asks, taking a swig of the golden whisky in his glass whilst Chris blows another puff of smoke off to the side.

“Yeah, I wanted to move onto a different job, a quieter one that isn't so taxing.” You shrug, having only thought out a bit of it so far.

Chris and Leon shared a glance at each other before Leon spoke once more, rolling back his shoulders a little. “You see, I have a bit of a predicament, and Chris thought you could help.”

Before you know it, he’s explaining how busy his work is and that he barely gets home in time for a sip of water before he knocks out, and you’re not really sure how this is your problem until Chris butts in.

“So basically, he needs a wife. You, on the other hand, won't have any of the perks of the DSO since you’re leaving, which includes medical insurance, tax benefits..” He trailed off as you started to ponder it, you really would lose a lot of the things you had grown to exist around. It would be very difficult to manage, and you can't say you’d miss a lot of those perks greatly. The two men give each other a glance as you speak up, nodding along. “You’re right, I will miss out a lot, but I really don't want to stay here longer..” Before Leon can even try and slide it in, Chris has already blurted it out.

“Well, you won't lose anything if you marry him.”

So, after a bunch of awkward talks and surviving interrogations from your coworkers, you ended up with a small wedding, which was mainly done to please your own parents rather than yourselves. Now you’re here, almost a year into this non formal contractual marriage, and your feelings are muddled. Very muddled. It’s hard to not catch feelings when you’re somewhat of a hopeless romantic yourself, or maybe the teenage girl mentality came back full force now you have a lot more free time. You owed him a fair amount to be fair—he didn’t realise how stress-free your life was these days. Wake up, eat a healthy breakfast, maybe watch some television too, head down to the small little bakery you own and teach the part time teenager there before wrapping up at four o'clock and heading home again. Your skin had cleared up, you were actually able to sleep in on the weekends and actually do whatever you want— pick up new hobbies, eat proper meals, and read books to your heart's content.

What you’ve concluded is that your life has drastically improved and you are more relaxed than you’ve ever been. The problem with that is that with the new addition of all this free time and air to breathe in, you’re able to actually think about the man you’ve married. In simpler terms that you tried to deny for a year now, you’ve caught feelings—a lot of feelings for him. That’s why you’re currently stuck in a conundrum; you’re technically allowed to pursue said feelings, as you’re married and no longer ‘colleagues’ needing to act professionally, but does he want the same?

The pan starts to sizzle, snapping you out of your daydreaming as you place the flattened patty into the oil, lightly frying each side. Being his wife meant looking after him as much as he did to you, so cooking was often your chore to handle. Even though you were more than happy to do most of the chores, he’d still help with the dishes after dinner and often cooked when he could—when he was exhausted from another mission. Plus, he did his own laundry. He would’ve done yours too, though after the first time he tried, your cheeks had flushed immediately when he handed you a pile of your freshly washed underwear and t-shirts, and you quickly told him you’d do your own.

The staircase groans as he steps down the stairs, his movements a lot slower now that he had let the tension ease from his muscles in the shower. So far, you’ve managed to cook four patties, which was more than enough to satisfy his stomach and yours. But you had an extra two for his lunch tomorrow and because he tended to have a third burger “just because it’d be a shame to let it go to waste.That’s when you hear him curse softly under his breath, turning back to glance at him in confusion. “What’s wrong?” His hair is damp, still dripping with water onto the white tee he wears. It’s loose and the one you bought him last month when you went on a shopping spree. You try to ignore the way your eyes naturally drift towards his chest; a small sliver of his pale skin peeks out where his hand disappears under his shirt, rubbing his abdomen in a strange way. “Did you get hurt?” You continue, turning down the heat on the hob so you can turn to face him better.

“Oh? This?”

He lifts the shirt a little, revealing the bruise on his right side of his stomach, and also gives you a perfect view of his toned abs. Damn. “It’s not as bad as it looks..” He mumbles, but his eyebrows are still knitted in a frowning gesture. “I’m annoyed because I missed an opportunity..”

That makes you blink, wondering what he could’ve missed in the time he went for his shower and came back here. Did he get a phone call? Or perhaps something happened this week you hadn't picked up on?

“An opportunity?”

“Yeah. I completely missed the chance to ask you, ‘What's cookin, Good Lookin?’. Damnit..”

Did the corniest line to ever exist really just make your chest tighten for a second?

You can’t deny the fact that the line itself had made your lips part as you stood there dumbfounded. Leon had a history with corny one-liners; in fact, whenever his colleagues happened to see you, they’d always mention whatever stupid thing he said during a mission. He’d say it to you occasionally too, usually random puns that he’d quietly snicker about, but he’d never quite openly flirt with you like that. Was it supposed to be a joke? Was it real? You couldn't tell, and so you quickly turned back around before your patties ended up burnt.

“O-of course only you would worry more about that than your own injuries.” His snickering is obvious behind you as you place the cooked patties onto a small plate. “Stop pestering me and go sit down at the table.” You feign annoyance, grumbling as you hide the furious flush of pink upon your cheeks. Unfortunately for you, he didn’t intend to give up that easily, walking up behind you and peering over your shoulder with his hands planted on the counter on either side of your waist.

“That was a good one, c’mon.” He argues, the most exaggerated pout on his face quickly disappearing when he watches the burgers sizzle in the pan. He loves your food so damn much.

“That was not a good one, shoo.”

Thankfully, he ends up leaving you alone in favour of Kitty, who had just woken up from her nap— eager to play with him even if it just means chasing after a wrapper he had thrown across the room. You place down two plates at the table, as per usual, along with a plate full of salad, a bowl of fresh chips you fried, and the small plate of patties— six to be exact. Then, you place down the two fancy glasses you bought last week and grab your usual favourite canned drink while grabbing a Coke Zero for him. Finally, you place Kitty’s dinner on the floor which she runs over for, immediately gobbling up the food. “She’s just like you.” You giggle, watching as she hungrily wolfs down the food, thus making him groan in return. “I do not eat like that.”

Dinner is the same. You’ll ask about his day in which he usually retorts in grunts and moans about the government, incompetent workers, and that woman.. Ada. Just the mention of her name used to make him go quiet back when you worked at the DSO, and even in the first few months of your “marriage”, he would shrug off the subject quickly. Now he talks about it here and there, mentioning how she suddenly appears and always seems to know his location. For some reason, it puts a sick feeling in your stomach, like someone is dragging their nails across the flesh of your insides.

“Ada.. was there. Ever since I saved the president’s daughter, it’s like she’s followed me everywhere. She helps me.. but then she claims to not care..?”

His words stopped registering in your mind after a while as your teeth grit against each other and you absentmindedly dipped your chip into ketchup over and over again. You can’t believe he could be so naive. She had played him once in Raccoon City, faking her identity and using him to her advantage. The same played out in Spain even if she ‘saved’ him. You didn't care about her damn motives; she worked for the enemy, and it irked you—she just used whatever she could to gain her benefit, and it seemed like no one could stop her.

“Earth to my beautiful wife, hello?” He waved his hand in front of your furrowed eyebrows and the obvious scowl upon your face. “You look like you just ate something you find disgusting. I thought you liked this too.”

You immediately realise you had zoned out, your face shifting to something sheepish before you finally stick the ketchup-soaked chip into your mouth. You didn't even get a chance to process what he just called you.

“No, it’s not the food; I was just thinking. Sorry, it’s nothing.”

That only serves to make him all the more curious, though he doesn't push it, instead continuing his story. “Where was I? Oh, right, then Ada shot—” He cuts himself off as your eyes immediately narrow, and you lower your head, picking with your food again subconsciously. It doesn’t take much to piece the clues together, his lips twitching upwards as a smile threatens to spread. Though he wants to test his suspicions one more time.

“Wanna hear something crazy? Ada tried to kiss me again.”

“What?!” You immediately sit up straight, the scowl returning just as fast and teeth grit, but it quickly softens when you see the smirk on his face.

“I knew it. You hate her, don’t you?” Leon always saw right through you, thankfully not with your growing feelings yet, and it made it all the harder to keep his marriage… Well, just as a contract.

“Fine, maybe I don’t like her. So what? She’s not exactly the most moral person.” You say, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly as you take a bite out of your burger and chew it down. “She helps Umbrella, can you really blame me?” That only makes his lips twitch again, and he leans his elbows on the table, eyes trained on every feature of your face.

“Are you jealous of her?” That almost makes you choke on the burger, and you have to take a large gulp of your drink to swallow down the rest of the food, your face immediately pinkening. It can’t be possible—there’s no way you’re jealous of that cunning, manipulative, hot, extremely hot woman. How did she even look that good?

“Ha— she should be jealous of me.” You scoff boldly, finishing the last of your burger soon after.

“Oh, and why’s that? Because you’re the one wedded to me?

A moment earlier, your heart would’ve described his face as a perfectly carved sculpture, the ones that people bid thousands to place in their homes because not showing off such a perfect creation would be a crime. Right now, he wore a sly grin with his eyebrows raised as he eyed you suggestively.

And that look was very punchable.

“Because I'm living the dream. I’ve got a bakery, a ton of free time, and I guess you’re there too, I suppose.”

With a roll of your eyes, you dismiss his words quickly, even though the faintest blush on your cheeks betrays your true thoughts. What if you said yes? What happens then?

“I should’ve known you wouldn’t give me that satisfaction.” He feigns a pout before his grin returns as he takes a massive bite into his second burger of the night. Of course, he just has to make an exaggerated moan, one elbow leaning on the table as the other covers his face dramatically.

“This is heavenly, you know? One day I swear I'll start dreaming about these burgers.”

There he goes again, babbling on about Lord knows what and his corny lines again. You can't help but flash a small cheeky smile, winking as you pour yourself a glass of water from the pitcher.

“Another reason for her to be jealous of me.”

Once the dinner has been packed away by his speedy hands, he’s returned to make the couch his home again, stretching his whole body against the length of it like a cat would. You’re placing the dishes into your dishwasher before inserting a tablet and putting it on for three hours. As you walk over to wipe down the table, you notice his eyes have fluttered close as he groans and gets comfortable on the cushions. You can't say you didn't feel a tinge of affection—well, much more than that, like a heap almost—every time he crashed out like this, completely exhausted from a mission. “Weekend tomorrow..” You remind him with a gentle hum, swiftly removing any stray stains off the table. “Don’t you want to have a good sleep, y'know, in bed?”

He lets out a muffled grumble in response, burying his face into the cushions before he reluctantly sits up, making you smile a little more—you’d scold him regularly about lying down after eating. “What movie d’ya wanna watch?” He says even if he would usually wander his way to the bedroom after you said that. It’s been at least a month since you had been together like this to watch a movie. A lot had changed in that month, specifically your growing feelings for him. Perhaps distance really does bring fondness, you think.

“I don’t mind; you like action, no?” You finish wiping down the dirt from dinner to glance over whatever he’s doing on the television, only to find him flicking through your favourite genre of movies. Shoving down the warmth on your cheeks is near impossible as you speed walk back to the kitchen. Were these signs? Were you reading too much into it? Your teeth graze against each other nervously as you look up to see him waiting expectantly on the couch for you to join him. What the hell is happening right now? He had always gone to bed immediately or scrolled through his phone for a while— so what’s with the sudden change?

Moments later you’re sitting beside him on the couch, knees tucked to your chest as he presses play on the movie he picked—the one you had mentioned you wanted to watch when it first got announced that it was in production. Despite your excitement, you could hardly concentrate on the movie when he was practically centimetres from you. He was leaning back against the cushions, one arm resting around the back of the couch where you sat and the other comfortably against the armrest. If you had just moved your head back slightly, you would brush against his arm. If you did that, would he wrap it around your shoulders? Just the thought makes you shudder a little, your chin moving forward to sit comfortably on your knees. It was like you were a teenage girl again, sitting in the movies with your crush while you wondered if he thought of you as a friend or something more. You couldn't even believe you were acting like this—hell the two of you were married legally, not to mention you were both grown adults! Who cares if he had just stretched out his arms, his shirt riding up, and you could see the scars on his stomach? Your breath hitching when he had shuffled up to you was completely unnecessary; the warmth radiating off of him was irrelevant, no matter if the characters were kissing on the screen right now. You practically jump when he pokes your shoulder with his hand, your head snapping to him instantly, and you can barely even form a noise when you see how close his face is to yours. His eyes had to be one of your favourite things about him, or was it the messy mop of dirty blond hair on his head? It could even be the sharpness of his jawline, the lines of wear beneath his eyes, how perfectly his nose seemed to be carved, or perhaps, crazily enough, the way his voice rang out in your ears in the mornings.

“Do we have any dessert? I’m craving something sweet.”

Every step back into the kitchen is like torture from how hot your cheeks are, the cold fridge air doing nothing to soothe the embarrassment as you grab the microwave puddings you had bought today. You can't believe you had been so flustered by the proximity that all that had escaped you was a strangled noise before you just hurriedly nodded and escaped to the kitchen. Those five seconds between the poke and his words felt like a millennia— an incredibly romantically tense millennia— where for those whole five seconds, you stupidly thought he’d kiss you right then and there. You fan yourself as if that’ll soothe the metaphoric rush of warmth in your face right now, incredibly embarrassed by your own thoughts and desires. When you sit back down again, you quickly hand him the hot pudding and sit further away from him this time. If you even felt that again, you felt like you’d simply explode altogether.

Unbeknownst to you, he was now wondering if you were annoyed that he had interrupted, and he frowned as he glanced down at the plate with just a singular spoon. Weren’t you going to eat too? Not to mention, you were all stiff and sitting further from him than before—now you’re really twisting the knife in his heart. First he had agitated you by teasing you about Ada, then he laid on the couch right after dinner like you always told him not to do, and now you even refused to eat dessert! Maybe he isn't putting enough effort into all of this as he originally thought. After all, you did a lot to run a bakery in town and still cook, clean, and look after his cat. So, he decides to take a shot and scoops up a particularly chocolatey part of the pudding, the part he always eats first, and holds the spoon up to your lips.

“I know you’re mad, but you can't deny this.” He plasters his typical boyish grin, nudging your lips with the metal of the spoon. But he’s caught off guard when you pull back in surprise, waving your hands around frantically in denial. “H-huh? I ate a lot of sweet things today already—”

“Shut up. Don’t you dare even say you’re on a diet either; you’re perfect already.”

He pushes the spoon against your lips which you accidentally part in surprise at his words, the warm chocolate filling your mouth immediately like an instant boost of serotonin.

“See, it's good, told ya.” He says smugly as you swallow down the tasty pudding and sauce. That’s only for a moment before he notices the smudge of chocolate around your lips from his struggle, casually wiping away the crumbs with his thumb before licking it.

He had just wiped the crumbs.

He wiped it from your lips.

He wiped it and then licked it off his hand.

He didn't even think twice.

“I-its not bad-” That was all you could mutter out before he committed the crime, and now you were left dumbstruck as you watched him casually lick his thumb and then take another spoon of the dessert—the same spoon you just ate from. He leans back against the couch again, about to shove another in your mouth once he gets comfortable enough, though he quickly realises that you still haven’t spoken since. “You can’t still be mad; I’ll shove another one in your mouth, you know—” At that, you know you’re sure to blurt out the truth, and you scramble up, about to make an excuse about needing a glass of water, before your wrist is caught in his hand, and you’re promptly pulled back against the couch again.

“Hm? Where are you going, pink cheeks?”

He says it teasingly, instantly making you flush all the more. You couldn’t understand how anyone could even be so casual about these things, not that you had little experience in the area, but seriously— he had literally just licked the chocolate on your face. That was an indirect kiss!

“Do you do this with all your friends?” The frown on your face is suddenly a little harsher, accusing, and suddenly there's a hint of betrayal. That only serves to confuse him more, you’ve been acting off for a while now, had he cheated in his sleep or something? “What? You’re not my friend, though? That's not comparable.”

He doesn't even see you as a friend? You can't help the way your heart drops in a way you’ve never felt before in your life; it almost hurts the way he can just so easily dismiss you after all the time you’ve spent together—contractual or not. “I- I see how it is..”

“See how what is? You’re not making much sense.” His eyes narrow as you suddenly turn your head away from him, arms crossing firmly on your chest, but what doesn’t escape him is the sudden daze in your eyes. Gently, his hand grabs your chin, squashing your cheeks as he forces you to face him, and his mind instantly clicks all the pieces together.

“.. (Name).” He says firmly, making you let out a small hum in acknowledgement, unaware of the way your eyes are suddenly a lot wetter than they had been before.

“What did you drink earlier?”

“What? All I drank was water, mostly.”

“What about when I told you about Ada, was that water?” Your eyebrows furrow as you hear him repeat her name again, immediately growing more frustrated. “What about her now?”

He lets out a heavy sigh, wrapping a firm arm around your shoulders before he forces you to settle against the couch against him. “You drank some of my drink, didn't you? You were way too annoyed to even notice the whiskey I mixed in.”

The thought immediately clicks into your head; everything is suddenly a lot clearer now, even though you still weren't quite sober yet. Plus, you were pretty much a lightweight when it came to his strong stuff. It perfectly explained the warmth spreading through your chest, the uncoordinated actions, and the way nothing seemed to follow the way your head wanted it to. “S-still, you said I’m not even your friend.” Gently, his thumb rubs the tears that have formed in your eyes and tucks you close into him with his arm snugly around you. Just in case you decide to face plant off the couch as you seemed to want to do before. “You’re not my friend; you’re my wife. Who else would I treat like that?”

“I’m not your real wife though.” You slowly look up at him, turning your head, so your glossy eyes can stare up into his, searching for the right answer— the truth.

“Those papers seem pretty real to me. The way I feel is also pretty real to me.”

He grins at you like he hadn't doubted that fact for a second, and he hadn't, not since you both had signed and received the certificate, one he sometimes sneaks a small fond peek at whilst you’re sleeping. Not that he’d tell you, at least not yet.

“But— I’m not your wife; that’s my title, but I don't act like that.”

“So? I still love you as anyone would with their wife; do you really think I wouldn't fall for you? You’re even more perfect than I imagined.”

You’re momentarily stunned into silence, not quite expecting that but still not believing it quickly, your tipsy mind making you say things that you never would before.

“That's because I do everything for you— not that I mind b-but, I just act like a good partner. You don't feel romantically for me.” You huff, your teeth gritting together as you pettily narrow your eyes at him. What you hadn't considered is that he’d tuck your hair behind your ears, carefully pull you into his lap, and take one of your hands in his. He fondles your hand beneath his, his thumb rubbing gently over the skin before he brings it up to rest on his cheek, smiling fondly at you.

“I’ve been busy, I know. It’s quite hard having an agent as a partner, no? I already regret all the love I've lacked to give you.” This time, you’re positive that your cheeks are reacting to him, breath hiccuping when he turns his face in your grasp. His lips press a kiss to the palm of your hand before intertwining that hand with his and holding it against his heart.

“You just had to go get tipsy, didn't you?” The warmth of his hand on yours as he squeezes it gently is like a drug, one that squeezes your heart at the same rhythm whilst his teasing voice dances in the air around the two of you.

“Not my fault you always have to have a glass with dinner..” You grumble, not happy with how fast he had proven you wrong even if he had just confessed to his deepest feelings. He finds it quite endearing how stubborn a little bit of alcohol can make you. ”Alright, we can blame me for this one. How about you finish this pudding with me, and we can get you settled in bed, how does that sound?”

Before you know it, he’s wiping chocolate stains from your lips again as you sniffle in his lap, mumbling some nonsense about your so-called lack of lovelife while the movie plays in the background. He enjoys all your little comments about the movie, even when you subconsciously glance back at him when the couple starring do something romantic. Taking you up to bed is easy enough considering you’re only just bordering tipsy at the moment and you hardly weigh anything compared to the things he usually deals with. Your head just lolls lazily as he helps you upstairs, your eyes slowly blinking up at him when he sits you on the edge of the bed. “What pajamas do you want, pretty girl? How about your favourite?” The water he helped you drink before had sobered you up a little so you’re starting to feel better already. However, your mind is still a little hazy so you just nod along, not minding if this is the first time he undresses you.

Making sure to be gentle with you, he strips you down to your underwear before helping you pull on your warm sweatshirt and plaid pants. His lips twitched upwards when your own fingers tried to beat him with dressing yourself, finding it adorable how you still insisted on doing everything yourself. He could just put you to bed, but after watching for countless nights how you slave away at your skincare routine and keeping your teeth brushed well— he’d feel awful if he broke that. Before you know it, you’re sitting on the sink as he gently holds your jaw, his other hand using the electric toothbrush to clean your teeth. You’re a little uncooperative, swerving your head away at first until you just settle into a sleepy calm and he handles you with no problems. In no time he has you back on his lap, sitting at your small vanity as he carefully attempts to remember the order of your night time routine. What even is this? He thinks as he picks up a suspicious looking serum, labelled as snail mucin and gives it an experimental sniff. He thought it’d smell worse to be fair.

“No, you have to put the toner first and then the serum.” You mumble at him, gently tugging at his hands with your fingers and before he knows it, you have a toner pad all up in his face, wiping over his nose and cheeks before you cover the rest of his face.

“Hey- i’m meant to be doing your skincare. I don't need this stuff.”

He almost feels a pang of hurt in his chest as you raise an eyebrow at him, as if accusing him of having bad skin. With a huff, he removes the toner pad from your hands and throws it in the bin before gently pulling at your cheeks. “I have great skin, thank you. Dont give me that look.”

You immediately frown and attempt to puff your cheeks, causing him to have mercy and let go before he grabs a new toner pad and repeats your actions to yourself.

When you come back to your senses, your head is smushed against a pillow whilst he changes by the closet behind you. Your thoughts don't feel as hazy as they used to be, and you’re even starting to contemplate everything that happened earlier. Did he really mean what he meant? Did he actually like you.. romantically? You physically cringe at your own thoughts and hide your face behind your hands, groaning just quiet enough that he doesn't quite hear it. Sleeping next to him had always felt odd to you, but you always slept at different times so it never really felt romantic in any sort of way. You liked to stay up late and he liked to get a decent rest before the next morning. It was only recently that you started glancing at his sleeping face beside you, admiring the peace in his expression when he lost himself to his dreams and no other worries. Otherwise, it just felt like a roommate, nothing more nothing less.

But now his trousers were falling to the floor behind you, and you were laying in bed not quite falling asleep nor attempting to stay up. Suddenly, he wanted to sleep with you, not only beside you. It suddenly felt all too real that you two were actually married, actually partners and actually slept beside each other each night. What next, were the notes you left in his lunch romantic too? In truth, you were slightly freaking out but that might’ve been the alcohol making things a hundred times worse than they should’ve been, especially since you had started crying unannounced earlier. That’ll play in the back of your mind forever but for now you’re focused on his soft footsteps as he approaches the bed, dressed in a much looser shirt and pants. He always slept like this but this time he looks down at you, one finger gently poking your cheek as he sits on the other end of the bed.

“I actually prefer to sleep with my shirt off. But we always fell asleep at different times so I never got to ask your permission.”

He hums quietly, the finger now gently rubbing along the soft curve of your cheek instead.

“You can.. I don't mind.” You say quietly, eyes trailing over his form as he settles himself against the headboard right beside you. Touching you.

“Are you sure your cheeks won't get too red?”

He teases, hand moving towards the top of your head to gently card his fingers through your locks. You push yourself up to a sitting position, letting out a soft yawn as you do so before you blink at him hazily again. This time, you press forward and place your hand on his abdomen, absentmindedly rubbing your finger there back and forth. “I want to see your injuries.”

Not even he can stop the way his face softens at that and he tucks you into his side again, his other hand pulling the shirt up and over his head to discard onto the carpet beneath the bed. This view is only for you: his paled skin, the fresh scars, the old scars, fading bruises and fresh bruises, stitches that fall out and others that are pulled tight but most of all, his body. All for your eyes only, only for you. Your hand runs gently over the outline of his newest bruise, a deep purple that covers the entire expanse of his hip. It’s blooming into something worse and you’re sure it’ll hurt more tomorrow, not that he’d ever complain about that anyway. “You always come home with injuries, and you just play them off. Don't they hurt? Don't you want me to care for you?”

You say quietly, voice even softer now that you’ve sobered up, and he just lets out a breath, his face turning to watch the way your brows furrow and your lips press together. To have someone fuss over him like this is something he never thought about much, but it didn't mean he hadn’t craved the idea before. Yours was genuine worry, and you always held that genuine care for him. But it felt different now, more natural, more intimate. Like he was the only one you would worry about like this— he loved that feeling.

“I don't ever want you to worry about a thing, even if I do like the way your eyebrows crease when you do.” He chuckles softly, leaning down to press his lips affectionately against your hair before sitting back up properly again. “I suppose if you really want to.. I couldn't deny I'd be flattered to have you care for me.” The curve of your lips is what makes him smile as well, finding it all too endearing how easily a grin can form on your face.

“You’re such a flirt..” You mutter, trying to play it off and wiggle out of his hold on you, only serving for him to raise an amusing brow at you. “I’m only making up for what I can’t do to a tipsy girl.”

“I’m not tipsy..” You argue, sitting up a little straighter which makes his arm gently rest on your lower back instead.

“Oh? Really now? Let me test you then, since I used to be a policeman.”

“Fine, give me what you’ve got.”

“Sing the alphabet backwards if you’re sober.”

You instantly splutter, shaking your head quickly.

“Hey! Not even a normal person can do that. I knew you didn't actually like me.” He has to stop himself from rolling his eyes up at your grumbling, squashing your cheeks to make you shush.

“Is it really a crime that I don't want you to forget our first kiss because of some stupid whiskey?”

“Your stupid whiskey.” He finally rolls his eyes at your retort, gently pushing you back into bed and pulling the covers up and over you. “Alright fine, my stupid whiskey. Now, be honest with me, are you sober?”

The little frown on your face has disappeared with the hope his question brings, and you nod quietly, wide eyes looking into his.

“Are you very sure?” You were definitely sober now, his voice immediately lowering to a rasp as his hands travel up to cup the soft curves of your cheeks as they begin to turn pink. Just like that, he’s the man you’ve fallen for all over again, soft strands of fair hair framing his chiselled face as if they’re perfectly placed to put you under his spell. His index tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, gently rubbing the skin of your cheek with his calloused thumbs. His skin is so rough and yet you can't help but feel he is so soft at this moment; his eyes are like gentle waves, looking at you so fondly that you finally remember to reply.

“I-i'm sure.”

He doesn't hesitate, leaning in closer until his nose just touches the tip of yours, eyes locked onto every small movement you can even think about doing. “Can I?” The nod you give is the green light he’s always dreamed of; this day is all he has ever thought about since you joined his life. You let your eyes flutter closed, feel the warmth of his breath that tickles your skin as he draws closer and closer until his lips meet yours so gently. You have to physically stop yourself from giggling, probably the alcohol still trying to make a fool of you, but you just can't believe he’s the one wrapping you in his touch. Likewise, you wrap your arms around his neck, and he lets out a small gasp when you suddenly gain the strength to meet him upright, almost as if you’re threatening to pin him instead. Of course, he couldn't just let that slide easily. So, as anyone would, he pushes you back down into the mound of pillows, causing you to squeal as he leaves his touch all over your face, fleeting kisses painting your skin a rosy red. “You better not forget this in the morning.” He scoffs playfully as your eyes squeeze shut, giggles that spill out your mouth while he gives the affection he’s craved to gift to someone for years.

His job is hard, his life has been hard, and even this marriage initially felt the same. It wasn't so much the fact that he had essentially tied himself down to someone he barely knew, it was the realisation that he would never find his one person. That's why he did this after all, it seemed like it’d benefit the both of you and the day where he’d actually have a woman by his side slipped away with each mission. You, you were different though. You may have been an agent before, but outside of work you were the sweetest thing. Always subconsciously fussing over him, delaying sleep to prepare his lunch no matter how much he insisted you didn't need to, taking a personal duty to look after his cat, and still not being afraid to ask him when he seemed low or uncomfortable. You were everything he never had, even the annoying nagging of trying to get him to not lay on the couch after he ate or the fact that's his third whiskey yet.

Corny lines, the occasional flirty remark, dragging you to watch a movie— he wanted to do all of that before so you’d become actually his, actually the one he could say he loves and loves him back. But things got in the way, life got in the way, and he was starting to see his opportunities dissolve with each tired return from the mission. Despite his grumpy attitudes some days, his exhausted look as he collapsed into bed at eight, you still managed to fuss over him all the same— never once did you treat him differently, if not for the fact you’d cook him a slightly nicer meal after missions.

He was still busy, yes of course, but somehow he had managed to win you over. Maybe it was his silly jokes, though he’d seen you stare at his hair many times before so maybe that caught your eye. In any case, he’s happy to give any part of him to you, if not all of him. So when he’s pressed the last kiss on your nose and pulls the covers high over you, he tucks you into his chest, a final kiss to your temple as he looks down at your angelic expression. The way your smile curves at literally nothing but his touch is enough to make him fold right there, but he doesn't right now, squeezing you against him.

“Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you.”

He whispers out, and you can't ignore it, eyes snapping up to look at him just from those three words. He sees the wonder in your eyes, the way they question the truth and if this really is real. Then you nod slowly, tuck your head into his chest, nestled against the beat of his heart.

“I love you too.”

[anothertimdrakestan]

Against A Wall - Dick Grayson x Reader

Req: "Roommates to lovers with Dick? Where they try to be secretive but everyone knows? If you have time of course, I love your writing so so much!"

~~~

When Dick Grayson applied to be the fourth roommate in your apartment, you (and all your friends) thought he was pretty cute. When you moved in with Dick Grayson you thought he was beyond annoying. He would often leave half eaten bowls of cereal in strange places around the apartment, return to the apartment at ungodly hours, and try to talk to you at the most inopportune moments. Your two other roommates were absolutely normal, attending classes at Gotham U, staying up late studying or going out, and rarely lounging around the house the way Dick often did.

"Y/N? I'm getting takeout, you want something?" you jumped up from studying to Dick resting against your door frame, you'd sworn you closed the door.

"Uhh I should probably eat something, Big Belly Burger right?" you launched the assumption which made him grin.

"You already know me so well"

"Nope, I know the overflowing trash you never take out. But yeah, I could kill a burger right now" you stood up to grab his phone, entering your order and noting the total of your meal. As you handed the phone back you asked, "what's your venmo? I can add tip too if you're picking it up" but Dick just shook his head replying, "don't worry it's on me" to which you realized was a small, but undeniable debt you didn't like.

"Nope. My treat then Grayson" you retracted, pulling the phone to your chest as you began typing in your own card info.

Dick raised his eyebrows, then leaned back on one leg, looking calmer than ever. "I'm paying, now give me my phone back." he said, factually.

Gods, you loved a challenge. "You gonna take it from me?" you waved his phone in your hands with a small laugh.

"Do you want me to?" his voice dropped, and instantly your eyes locked with his. You felt like Icarus, dancing dangerously close to Dick's burning proposition.

Again, you never shied from the sunlight, "what if I do?" Now, it was Dick's turn to look straight at you. His gaze didn't leave yours as he almost floated through your room, closing the distance until he was an inch away from your desk, his hand outstretched, signaling his hesitation to really fight for his own phone.

You looked up at him, feigning defeat for moment. Then a wide grin, "I just remembered my security code! Pick up for now is or is there a better time for you?" Tilting your head to the side with blinking eyes.

His chin raised, glancing down with a grin, "would you set it to an hour wait? I just realized I might have other plans" you frowned, feeling like the banter was dissipating. "Sure thing Grayson."

You felt smug at the personal win as you pressed the order button. It didn't last long.

Within milliseconds of a click two giant arms were wrapped around your torso, his leg pushing your chair back as he raised you into the air like you were a feather. Not missing a stride he backed further into your room, pressing your back against the wall.

Gruffly, he muttered "care if I pay you back now?" his eyes trained on your lips.

Haggardly catching your breath, you took a few seconds to consider the offer. Everyone knows not to sleep with your roommate. Especially not when your other roommates think the one you're sleeping with is cute.

Then again, you were known for making poor decisions when a calloused hand was working on the buttons of your clothes...

And so began a mutual roommates with benefits situation. At the latest hours of night, in afternoons when no one else was home, and once in the elevator on the way up to the flat: you and Dick found a pleasure in the sneakiness of your carnal release.

And it was truly carnal. Clothes ripped and strewn about, deep gashes in his back from your nails, warm red spots around your body from his mouth's attention.

It was like a drug, you'd label yourself a junkie if you had to. And what an exhilarating secret to keep! Knowing glances and dangerous texts always meant fun was incoming.

Except, this wasn't as mutual as it seemed. Richard was suffering. The bouquet of roses (your favorite color) he'd excitedly brought home just lead you to ask "for your mom? so sweet!" dropping a wink before sauntering to your bedroom. They were for you. Until his ego petered out. Right there in the living room.

You had this je ne sais quoi about you, the kind of energy that sucked the "will you go out with me" right out of his lungs. The kind of look that made his heart do flips and his legs jelly unless he was trailing after you.

This was foreign territory for Dick. It felt like his personality was split in two: in the bedroom and his vigilante-ing he was cool and collected, but when he tried to explain he'd stopped by your favorite bakery because he wanted to give you something as sweet as you- well it came out in a jumble.

And it was at the fault of Richard nerves-for-the-first-time Grayson that the roommates caught on. So they had sat him down, thinking he was just obsessed with you and wanted a chance, unaware of the whole physical relationship already formed.

Dropping your keys on the little hook, you heard whispers and giggles from the hallway. You rounded the corner to see each of your roommates seemingly busy: watching tv, reading, floating around in the kitchen, - but no Dick.

One made a slight cough, "there's a -uh- package for you in your room," (cue incessant giggling).

"What the hell did you guys do?" you retorted, cautiously moving towards your room. Upon opening the door you just found Dick sitting in your chair, a bag of Big Belly Burger in front of him.

You gave him a confused look, "this is the package? What did I do to deserve this?"

He took a deep breath and said "it was you buying me a burger that made, you know, happen" he looked down awkwardly with almost a blush at the thought of the last few weeks, "but, I want to start over," he finished decidedly.

You were taken aback, and a little hurt. "That's fine, I mean no strings attached, especially if you're seeing someone now." You couldn't deny the pit that was starting to form.

His eyes widened and gaze shot to meet yours, "no! Not like that! I meant, I wanted us to start over. I wanted to buy you the burger and ask you to dinner, a real date, if you want."

Emotionally you'd now done a 180, and were trying to get your bearings. "You want to go on a date with me?"

"Yes, I do."

"And you told everyone in the house?"

"They figured it out- but they don't know about-"

A chorus echoed from the living room "Yes, we do!" and a smaller "you horndogs" from one of the roommates.

Dick now looked sheepish, "oh I guess they do too." The sincerity and embarrassed look on a such a strong and ballsy man was melting your heart.

You made your way to the chair, sitting down, straddling him, "I'd love to go on a date with you Dickie" to which his only response was closing the distance in between your lips.

No funny business though, he wanted to move slower this time.

That night, while you were heading to the kitchen for a midnight snack, he caught your hand in the hallway, pulling you to his chest for a slow, almost methodical kiss. Like he wanted to memorize the feeling of a kiss that meant more than what it had before.

It was like your wax wings had fully melted, you'd fallen completely for him in just a few hours. And though in a few months you'd both be forced to move out after fornicating on too many roommate-shared surfaces, your friends were happy to have coaxed their favorite people into a beautiful relationship. And just like he'd promised, every day with Dick was brand new, full of all the love and sincerity you'd both been seeking, what a gift it was to find it in each other.

~

Haven't written a proper fic in a while excuse my rustiness. Love ya! - Elle

[thefunkfactory]

Sam Zia

Sam Zia had it all. Chiseled jawline, a body carved from years of dedication in the gym, and a TikTok following of millions who worshipped his advice on masculinity, self-improvement, and how to be an alpha male. He preached discipline, hygiene, and success. His fans saw him as the ultimate peak of male perfection.

But one day, everything changed.

It started subtly. Sam, always precise about his diet, began experimenting with the bulk. Not the clean, protein-packed meals he used to swear by, but the dirty, greasy, carb-heavy food that promised quick mass at the expense of digestion. Burgers, protein shakes overloaded with questionable powders, and eggs—dozens of eggs—became his daily fuel.

At first, he felt invincible. His muscles swelled, his energy skyrocketed… but then, a dark force emerged from within. His stomach began to rebel. Gurgling. Churning. And then—the gas.

At first, he tried to suppress it, maintaining his polished alpha image. But then, mid-TikTok live, it happened.

“Yo, fellas, if you wanna be a REAL man, you gotta—” PFFFFFRRRRTT

A deep, reverberating blast escaped him, loud enough to rattle his chair. He froze. His perfectly sculpted face turned a shade of red he hadn’t seen since his first squat failure.

He expected embarrassment. He expected people to call him out.

Instead? The video went viral.

Comments flooded in:

“Bro is so alpha he doesn’t even care.”

“That was the most masculine fart I’ve ever heard.”

“Real men embrace their natural odors.”

And just like that, a new ideology was born.

It started with one video, but Sam, ever the influencer, knew when to capitalize on momentum. The next day, he posted:

“Men today are too obsessed with being ‘clean’ and ‘proper.’ You think our ancestors cared about showers? Nah, they were out there, fighting mammoths, reeking of strength and dominance. Hygiene is a scam. If you smell bad, it means you’re working hard.”

And the crowd ate it up.

Sam leaned in harder. His once pristine, cologne-spritzed gym clothes became stained tanks with unidentified smears. His showers? Less frequent. His grooming? Nonexistent. His content? A full-on campaign to make men embrace their primal state.

“Ditch the deodorant. Stop washing your gym shorts. Embrace the stench.”

And the most legendary part? The farts.

Sam stopped holding them in. If anything, he turned them into a symbol of raw, unfiltered manliness. Every TikTok featured at least one unholy release, accompanied by a smug smirk. His comments turned into a brotherhood of stink.

“Sam, I took your advice. Haven’t washed in two weeks. My girl left me, but I feel powerful.”

“Dude, I farted in my gym and cleared out the weaklings. Only real men remained.”

“A guy at work told me to wear deodorant, so I quit my job. Thanks for the wisdom, king.”

Sam’s influence was undeniable. Gyms nationwide reported an increase in noxious odors. Deodorant companies saw stocks plummet. High-protein, fiber-loaded diets surged in popularity, not for their muscle-building benefits, but for their ability to fuel the movement.

Even brands took notice. Soon, Sam had sponsorship deals—not for cologne or grooming kits, but for industrial-strength air fresheners (marketed for the weak) and bean-based meal plans.

One day, he posted his magnum opus:

“The real test of masculinity? Walk into a crowded elevator. Let it rip. Stand tall. Own it. If people leave, they’re weak. If they stay, they respect you.”

The challenge took off. #ZiaGasChallenge trended worldwide. Videos surfaced of men proudly fumigating locker rooms, parties, and even dates. The movement was unstoppable.

Sam had transformed completely. The man who once championed clean bulking, high-value grooming, and aesthetic perfection was now the undisputed King of the Stink Bros. He lived by his code:

• Laundry is for betas.

• Showers are optional.

• Farts are power.

His mansion, once pristine, now smelled like a mix of protein shakes, gym socks, and raw testosterone. His fans? More loyal than ever.

And as he sat back, inhaling his own toxic masterpiece, he smiled.

Because this? This was true masculinity.