#I WOULD HAVE PUT IT BACK IN THE OVEN TO BAKE A LITTLE LONGER!!!!

[oensible]

Crying tears out of my eyeballs the cuda have posted a horrible ai gen doll merch mockup of fenzy and it has me in shambles

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 Hide & Seek.

Post prison Reid x Reporter!reader

part two

Summary: The night with your boyfriend is going perfectly, and you couldn't be happier, until he receives an unexpected call telling him that information about an important case has been leaked to the press, and many doubts about you appear.

Words: 2,5k.

Warnings & Tags: mentions of crime. fem!reader. established relationship. angst WITHOUT a happy ending. mistrust and lack of communication. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: Again I apologize in advance for this, but I love exploring Spencer's character and his changes. It's so funny to know that the one from the first seasons would never do this but I love him anyway.

Your smile couldn't have been bigger at that moment.

After several weeks of work and no time to see your boyfriend or send him more than two text messages, you finally find yourself humming cheesy love songs next to him and hugging him whenever you want. You had only been in his apartment for a few hours after the universe and all the stars had aligned so that neither of you had to work that night and you could have your long-awaited quality time together. It was certainly much needed for both of you and could be a bit of a celebration for finally getting a raise.

The sweet smell of the candles you both had placed on the table mixed with the ingredients on the countertop, creating a much more homey atmosphere. After much thought, the two of you had decided to make some homemade cookies with different fruits to eat yourselves and give some to your friends. You had always loved baking, especially when it came to desserts, and being able to do it with Spencer was even better. Although you knew he was only doing it to make you happy because he was pretty clumsy in the kitchen.

“I think you have some flour here, sweetheart.” You could feel him running his finger over your face, laughing as he smudged you, then stepping back a little to look proudly at his handiwork. “You look so cute.”

“Really? You want to play, Dr. Reid?”

You raised an eyebrow and gave him a menacing look, and made a quick move to smear some flour on him and get on the same terms. But you barely managed to mess him up a bit when he gently grabbed your wrists and planted a kiss on your lips, pushing any thoughts of revenge from your mind.

“You cheated, it's not fair.” You murmured against his lips as you both pulled away from the kiss.

“I didn't do anything.” He replied in an innocent tone, kissing you briefly before pulling away to feed the cat. “I think this kid has been eating cookie dough because he doesn't want to eat his food.”

“He's an unruly kitten, just like his daddy.” You said as you watched Spencer pet him and laugh at your bad joke.

The two of you had officially been together for almost a year, but you had known each other for much longer. A coffee shop tucked away in the middle of town was the best place for an FBI agent and you, a news reporter, to meet and start talking. From the beginning, you knew there was something different about Spencer, and it was much more than the fact that he was the only man in the country who didn't know you because he didn't watch television and therefore the news you had anchored for years. He didn't care that your face was what people saw every day and that put you in the spotlight, he liked you for who you were and how you thought about the world.

“I think they'll be ready in a few minutes.” You reported after putting a tray of cookies in the oven.

You were about to ask your boyfriend where he kept the dishes, but when you turned around, you noticed he was still playing with the cat and you couldn't help but smile at how relaxed he seemed. It had been a good idea to convince him to adopt the animal that always followed you home and peeked out of the fire escape. Nothing made you happier than seeing him happy, so you followed your instincts and noticed that the kitchen was still organized as usual. You may not have lived with Spencer yet, but you spent more time in his apartment than yours and had already memorized how a couple of things worked, though you were afraid to tell him because you knew he had trouble opening up too much and taking such big steps in a relationship so quickly.

All your attention was on picking out the prettiest plates and pots for the cookies when his phone rang over the counter. Your hands were still dirty with flour and dough, so you didn't hand it to him and could only read that it was Penelope before you saw him answer.

“Yes, I'm with her now. We're making cookies, and yes, I'll bring you some. Yes, she says hello to you too.” You listened as Spencer repeated into the phone with an encouraging tone.

You barely listened to his conversation because you were nervous it was about work and that he would have to leave so soon.

“You're out of milk, I'm going to the supermarket downstairs.” You informed him quietly after checking the fridge, not wanting to interrupt his conversation. “I won't be long.” You finished, giving him a chaste kiss on the lips before leaving.

He couldn't help but smile like a fool at the kiss and stopped listening to his friend's voice on the other end of the phone for several seconds.

“The full profile was leaked to the press, along with details about the crime scenes.” Garcia's voice brought her feet back to the ground.

“What? How?” He asked blankly, needing to sit down to process the information. “We were very careful.”

Spencer thought the case was already closed, he had filled out the profile himself, they had everything they needed to make the arrest, and Emily had insisted on giving him the night off for it.

“We don't know, but it was on the evening news.”

Wait, the evening news? They were the ones you presented every day. It was strange that you hadn't mentioned it, since you'd just come home from work a few hours earlier, happy about your raise.

“Which channel was the first? Who gave the scoop?” His voice trembled slightly, as if he was a little afraid of the answer because his mind was telling him something he didn't like.

There was a long silence for a few seconds and his anxiety increased.

“You need to calm down and not jump to conclusions.” Penelope tried to be the voice of reason at the time and sugarcoated things a bit. But he insisted that he wanted to know. “She said so...she broke the news a few hours ago and I think that was the first network to do it.”

His whole world seemed to crumble before his eyes again and everything was a blur amidst the feeling of betrayal and bitterness that gripped his body. Every thread in his mind began to connect in just a few seconds, and for the first time in a long time, he hated having that ability.

“Reid, listen, I don't think it was her. Emily said we'd fix it, but you should know before you watch the news.” She tried to defuse the situation, but his words only made them feel more betrayed. “I forgot to tell you before because I didn't want to ruin anything, you looked so happy.”

Since meeting you, Spencer had watched at least a minute of the evening news every day just to see you, and everyone knew it. Only today he hadn't because he'd been busy trying to finish the damn profile so he could get off early and spend some time with you.

“We don't want you to jump to conclusions, we all know her and I don't think she would do this. Maybe it's a mix-up or...”

“Don't do that, don't try to make me feel better when she's the only one I tell about the cases.”

And about absolutely everything. He always talked to you about his dreams, his deepest fears, his hopes for the future, his worst moments, and even things he never thought to say out loud, even to his therapist. All his life he had felt silenced until you showed up to listen to even the most complex thought and his mental discussion of possible names for the cat you both shared and treated like a son.

Since his release from prison, his view of the world and himself had changed. He no longer felt worthy of love or anything good until you came along and insisted on entering his heart and saving him from the emptiness he faced every time he woke up in that dark, lonely apartment that you came to fill with light and the smell of cookies.

It weighed heavily on his heart that the bad thoughts that always haunted him made sense.

“I'll be there soon.” He finished, not paying attention to the thousand and one possible explanations and theories Penelope had given him so as not to blame you for everything.

He ended the call and walked quickly to the bedroom to find your computer for answers. You had been staying with him for several days and always used it for work, so it was on the nightstand. He was about to turn it on when the sound of the front door startled him and let him know you were back.

“Spencer? Where are you? Do you want to play hide and seek?” Your voice echoed through the apartment, coming closer and closer to the room.

There was no movement or sound from him, just silence, until you entered the room and saw him sitting on the bed with your computer in his hands. You couldn't help but be a little startled by his expression.

“Are you okay, love? You scared me.” You spoke as you approached him and took his hand lovingly. “Do you need to use my computer? It's out of battery, but the charger is in my bag.”

The strange thing was that Spencer didn't return your affectionate squeeze, he didn't even kiss your hand like he always did. He just froze in place and looked at you as if he was waiting for you to confess to a crime.

“Is something wrong?” You sat down in front of him and grabbed his chin to force him to look at you.

He looked at you for a few seconds and clenched his jaw, pulling away from your touch as if it burned him. “You tell me.”

Confusion washed over you and you bit your lip, trying to think of something that could have changed everything so suddenly. For a second you thought that maybe something had happened at Spencer's work and he had to go now, but his expression and his teary eyes said much more than that. Something serious had happened, you even thought it might be his mother and your heart shrank.

“I know what you did.”

You frowned at his words, trying to find some trace of a joke in all this. “What have I done?”

Once again, the room was filled with silence and his piercing gaze. You made a feeble attempt to approach him to give him some comfort as he looked like he was about to cry, but he rejected you and moved further away from you. He got up from the bed, put the computer down and looked at you as if he expected you to be the one to give the explanation.

“I don't understand this, baby. I really don't know.” You got out of bed and tried to get closer to him.

At your action, he backed away from you.

“Don't call me 'baby'. Don't pretend you don't know what you've done.”

The problem was, you didn't know what you'd done to give him that attitude. It had only been a few minutes since you left and everything was fine, so it didn't make sense that he was suddenly angry.

“I should have seen it coming before, how could I not, why would someone like you notice me? You obviously wanted this, you wanted to use me to get that raise and have all the fresh information.” Finally he seemed to react and started to blurt out everything that was on his mind without any filter. “I was an idiot to think you loved me.”

The confusion in your bright eyes only made things worse for him. His defense mechanism told him that you were an actress, that you must have known him well enough to manipulate him for so long and not even flinch. It made all the sense in the world that the whole perfect relationship you had was a sham, because he never understood how you, who had the fame and beauty to be with any man in the world, could have chosen him, a former addict who had spent months in jail and had more trauma than happy memories, to be your partner.

You took a step toward him, trying to process what he had just said. “I do, you know I love you.”

“Come on, you don't have to pretend anymore, I already know that you leaked the information I gave you about the profile.” He said after pacing the room a few times, trying to control his anger. “And maybe how many times you did the same.”

“Wait, you think I'm some kind of spy or something...you're joking, right?” You tried to make sense of his words, wanting to believe again that it was a joke. It had to be, or the pain you felt in your heart at his rejection would definitely kill you.

The silence that followed his words was enough to know that he was serious.

“You're the only person outside the team I talk to about cases all the time. And you magically get a raise when there's a big leak.” His every word was like a knife in your heart, digging deeper and deeper. “You even broke the news a few hours ago, you're unbelievable.”

That was too much, and it was the move that pierced your heart with the knife.

“Do you really think the only way I can get a raise is to betray you? That I've been pretending for almost a year that I love you for my own benefit? Do you really think I can stoop so low and that my job is worth so little?” You asked him almost pleadingly, as if begging him to tell you no, but in vain. “Tell me it's not so, please. Tell me you don't distrust me.”

Silence. Lots of silence.

“Please...”

He said nothing again and that was answer enough for you. You loved Spencer Reid like you'd never loved anyone before, but you weren't going to let this go. You weren't going to keep begging him to believe you when you told the truth and never gave him reason to doubt.

“Fine. I hope you don't have to come back to me when you realize you made a mistake and ended up with the best you had.”

The pained look you gave him and the tears streaming down your cheeks stayed in his mind as you left your apartment keys on the table and walked away, closing the door behind you at the same time as the oven beeped.

His smile could not have been more nonexistent at that moment.

[vxnusorbit]

let him cook!

despite having a whole bakery, perhaps wriothesley was never fated to be an excellent baker. warnings: established rs, gn! reader, usage of pet names, wrio being an idiot (affectionate) wc: 730  a/n: hehehe specially dedicated to @poessiblyfedya !! happy birthday to my favourite big sibling in the entire world <3 reblogs w/ tags & comments highly appreciated <3

“not again…” a loud sigh echoes as the kitchen fills with the acrid scent of burnt sugar and overcooked batter. 

wriothesley stares at the cake pan in his oven-mitt hand, at the tragic sight sitting before him. what was meant to be the cake’s golden crust has become utterly scorched, with the cracks running across almost akin to those jagged lines that stretched across the walls of the central laboratory ruins. he cannot help but wrinkle his nose at the bitter note that lingers in the air, and at the burnt patches scattered all over the top that continue to bubble, as though mocking him for yet another failure. 

wriothesley sighs in defeat. 

“sigewinne!”

the head nurse pokes her head around the doorway. “yes, your grace?”

“a little help… please?” 

sigewinne fights to hold back her giggles at the sight of the seemingly infallible duke of the fortress of meropide looking like a kicked puppy in the face of his failed bakes. 

“alright, how long do we have?”

they glance at the clock, before looking back at each other in panic. five o’clock. only one hour before you said you’d be back. “let’s… get to work?”

“yeah, let’s.”

they work almost in silence, sigewinne doing most of the work while wriothesley mixes the batter vigorously. with her added help, he achieves his best attempt yet — though the cake still carries a slightly charred scent, and its base looks a little too brown, clearly, it isn’t burnt and looks (hopefully) quite edible. well, it’s not as if he’ll have time to bake another one if he wants to get the surprise done in time, so he grabs the piping bag and gets to work. 

when he finally squeezes out the last of the icing onto the cake, the sense of relief washing over him is comparable to what one would feel when declared innocent by the oratrice. he steps back to admire his work, and exchanges a high-five with sigewinne just as you walk in with your nose scrunched up.

“why do i smell something burning?”

“never mind that,” wriothesley replies hastily, linking his arm with yours as he steers you toward the kitchen counter. “i made you a lil’ something, come see.”

he finally lets go, and your jaw drops when you see the cake, with the words “happy birthday, [name]!” messily written on the top, hearts scrawled in icing of your favourite colour. a simple cake compared to those you’d find in bakeries all around fontaine, but still beautiful to you nonetheless. 

“you… remembered?” your eyes shift between the cake and the very proud wriothesley standing before you.

“of course i did, darling, why would i ever forget?” he smiles, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, “did you not find it odd that clorinde took a sudden day off from work?”

and realisation floods in as you finally figure out why your friend had been acting odd the entire day— avoiding any topic related to wriothesley, almost begging you to stay for “just an hour longer” when you mentioned it was about time you headed back home.

“it was you!” you accuse, almost affronted, “no wonder she wanted to meet up so early today!”

“guilty as charged,” he laughs, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead as an apology. “will my love accept their cake as my apology?”

“only if it’s good.” you huff, helping yourself to a slice. you almost spit it right back out the second it touches your tongue, and while fighting to keep a straight face, you watch in silent horror as wriothesley feeds himself a big spoonful — only for him to start choking as he looks for a glass of water. 

“what did you put in it?” you ask when he finally recovers.

“nothing the recipe didn’t state, i don’t know why it came out so… salty…”

realisation slowly dawns on his face, and he turns to rummage through the cabinet. 

for the nth time that day, wriothesley sighs. “i think i– or rather, i think sigewinne may have mistaken the salt for sugar, and– well, you know how that ended.” 

you laugh, reaching out to pat his back. “that’s alright, it happens to the best of us. now you know to check your ingredients before putting them in, right?”

the kicked puppy expression returns on his face. 

“i should’ve asked navia for help.”

© vxnusorbit. do not plagiarise, repost, or feed to ai in part or whole.

[aangelinakii]

COOKING WITH THE JUSTICE LEAGUE.

characters written about in this piece : bruce wayne, clark kent, diana prince, barry allen, hal jordan

note : omgomg this idea is so frraking cute 😭😭 and sorry some are longer than others !!! <3

requested !

BRUCE WAYNE.

it's not that bruce can't bake, because he can, but the whole "baking" thing doesn't really fit the agenda he's going for 💀 so it would take a lot of convincing to get bruce to try make some meringues, or even cupcakes. but after living with alfred for the majority of his life, he's definitely learned how to cook.

i mean, he's still a guy with a butler, so it's not like he does everything or knows how to make everything. if you want to make something he's never made before, he'll definitely let you take the lead, and something inside him will be a little nervous about messing anything up, so even if you ask him to stir something he'll keep asking if he's doing everything right

but when it comes to dishes he does know how to make bruce will want you to sit back and watch, and periodically taste test his food to "make sure it's not poisonous." he loves cooking for you, but i can see him feeling a bit out of place when it becomes a duo task — he doesn't want to mess anything up, and part of him feels a bit like that young bruce again, in the early years after his parents' deaths, sitting on the counter whilst alfred cooks them dinner.

CLARK KENT.

clark absolutely looooveeeesss cooking, i'd say it's definitely a love language of his, making food for the people he loves. he's probably learnt it from ma kent, cooking for people. clark definitely has a long list of recipes stored up there, and probably has a separate tab on his phone for recipes he thought were interesting

differently to bruce, i think clark may have a talent for baking specifically, as opposed to cooking proper dinner meals. if you cook a meal together i could see you focusing on the dinner, and clark preparing dessert, which he can put in the oven whilst you're eating. and yes, even on a normal evening (usually a friday night or weekend) he insists on having a dessert. even if what you've made is some instant ramen or ten-minute rice dish, clark is up at the counter stewing some blueberries and apple slices for a crumble

DIANA PRINCE.

diana has so many handed-down recipes that she would love to share,, and on days where she hasn't got anything going on she loves spending the entire day making huge servings of greek dishes that you can keep in the fridge and eat every night for a month. she's not one to hog the counter or the oven, she wants to teach you everything she knows !!!

and she's super super open to learning your recipes, or being your little guinea pig if you want to experiment with recipes, like hello she's amazonian she could survive anything !! but if you're in the kitchen, she'll ask if there's anything she can do to help you out and even if you say no she'll find something to do, like fill up a glass of water so you don't get too dehydrated whilst making her some amazing food.

BARRY ALLEN.

love love loves sharing the kitchen with you, and he loves cooking for you just as much as you love cooking for him. i even made a whole fic about it (shameless promo) where you alternate dinner making duties round each other's apartment each week

he thinks you're amazing really,, even if you cook something that tastes a little bit.. you know.. barry will still gobble it down because you ?? thought of him ?? and wanted to make him food ?? probably has food as a love language, but in a different way to clark,, the way clark sees it, making food is how he expressed love, but barry feels like eating someone's food that way made for him is a way of showing love ? do you know what i mean ?

obviously he loves cooking for and with you, but yeah he really appreciates you cooking for him more

HAL JORDAN.

definitely takes charge in the kitchen, but will give you jobs here and there. it could be tasting, it could be mixing spices into a sauce, it could be stirring. i think he prefers the creative aspect to cooking, so if he's got a recipe in mind be prepared to get a little bossed around. he likes adding seasoning and making little sauces. sometimes if you're lounging around at home he'll spring out of nowhere with a snack for you to eat, "something he's working on" and it always tastes buss

might get a little nervy if you want to take charge, but that's just a him issue, and he'll calm down once you get the food sitting right in front of him and it tastes just as good as it smells (and also as long as the fire alarm hasn't gone off once !!!!)

[minxmut-cafe]

FETISH

Pairing: STALKER!! Jimin x Reader

Word count: 16k

Warning: smut, sex, stalking, dark themes, voyeurism, dirty talk, cunnilingus, oral sex, vaginal sex, penetration etc

Authors note: I honestly had so much fun writing this!! I hope you enjoy it. Let me know if I should do one about another member as well

Synopsis: "When Jimin wants something, he'll have it. One way or the other."

The bakery was quiet as Y/N worked the counter, the early afternoon sunlight spilling across the wooden tables, casting soft shadows on the cream-colored walls. The rich scent of butter and vanilla wafted through the air, mingling with the faint dusting of flour on the counter. A delicate hum of the oven's warmth was her only companion as she carefully arranged freshly baked pastries in the display case.

Y/N had always loved the rhythm of the bakery. The way the dough felt between her fingers, the way the heat from the oven would settle around her like a comforting embrace. It was simple, predictable—exactly the kind of life she wanted. No drama, no distractions. Just the steady flow of flour, sugar, and quiet.

But there was always something strange about this place. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Maybe it was the way certain customers lingered a little too long, as if they didn’t just come for a croissant, but for something else—something she could never define. Or perhaps it was the way the silence would sometimes stretch, too long, too deep, as though the air itself was holding its breath.

A woman entered, her steps light, but her gaze lingering a moment longer than usual. Y/N smiled politely, forcing her attention back to the pastries as the woman selected a few items and moved to the counter.

"Just the usual?" Y/N asked, her voice quiet, practiced.

The woman nodded, placing a few crumpled bills on the counter before leaving without a word. Y/N watched her go, the door chiming softly behind her. The silence returned, but something felt different today. She couldn’t explain it.

Her eyes drifted to the window. Outside, the street was as bustling as usual. People hurrying by, oblivious to the quiet life she led. She was used to the hustle—she’d grown up in cities where the noise never stopped. But here, in this small corner of the world, there was a strange stillness that she could never shake.

As her gaze drifted past the street, something caught her attention. A figure, standing just outside the bakery window, hidden partially behind a lamppost. A man, his face obscured by a hood and sunglasses, his posture tense and watchful. She blinked, sure she was imagining things, but when she looked again, the figure was gone.

She shook her head. Just a trick of the light, she thought.

Y/N returned to her task, pushing aside the odd feeling that clung to her. She had no room for paranoia. She couldn’t afford it.

From the shadows, across the street, Jimin observed her, his eyes hidden beneath the brim of his cap. He hadn’t come here to buy pastries, nor to admire the delicate art of baking. He’d come to watch her.

His lips twisted into a slight, cynical smile as he watched her move behind the counter, her fingers graceful as she shaped the dough. She was so... unaware. So focused on the small world she had created for herself. It was almost too easy.

Jimin’s world was not like hers. His was loud, filled with flashing lights, cameras, and the constant hum of voices singing his praises. He was Park Jimin, a star—a god, in the eyes of many. And yet, here he was, in the shadows, lingering in the corners of her life like some kind of invisible force.

He knew everything about her. Where she lived. What she liked to bake. The quiet way she carried herself. The subtle tension in her posture when she felt eyes on her, though she never acknowledged it.

It made him smile to think of how perfectly she fit into the life he had carefully crafted for her. A life where she would never escape him. Where he could watch, and wait, until she was ready to let him in.

Jimin’s eyes narrowed as Y/N glanced toward the window again. She didn’t see him, but he knew she felt something. She’d been sensing him for days now, and it would only be a matter of time before she figured it out.

But he wasn’t ready yet. Not yet. He wanted her to feel the fear first. To see him lurking in the background, like a shadow waiting to pounce. The fear would make her crave him, would make her realize that the only way out was to let him in completely.

He allowed himself a few more moments to study her. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, a few loose strands framing her face. Her movements were deliberate, efficient—exactly how he liked it. She wasn’t loud. She wasn’t demanding. She was content, trapped in the little world she’d made for herself.

But that wouldn’t last.

He’d make sure of it.

Y/N's attention snapped back to the counter as the bell above the door jingled again, the sudden intrusion breaking her train of thought. The figure she’d seen earlier? Gone. The street was just as it had always been.

She frowned, pushing the feeling of unease aside. It was nothing. Probably just someone waiting for the bus or some curious stranger with too much time on their hands.

Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. It wasn’t the first time, and she was certain it wouldn’t be the last.

Y/N sat at her small kitchen table, the soft glow of her laptop screen casting an ambient light across her face. It was late—almost midnight—but she didn’t mind. She’d gotten lost in her sculpting, her hands covered in clay, the world outside slipping away.

As usual, she was lonely at this hour. The bakery had closed, the last customer had long since left, and now there was only silence. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard as she sat back, debating whether she should check her messages. It had become a small ritual for her. In the last few weeks, someone had been reaching out to her through her online art account. They weren’t aggressive or overwhelming, but their words were kind, supportive.

Y/N had grown used to the occasional comment on her work—most of it generic, encouraging, but nothing that stuck. But this person, "ArtLover23," seemed different. They never just complimented her work—they asked thoughtful questions, made observations, and had a deep understanding of the techniques she used.

Her fingers clicked on the message notification, and a new message from ArtLover23 appeared.

ArtLover23: "I’ve been following your work for a while now. Your sculptures are so unique, they almost seem to have a life of their own. The way you bring such expression to stone… it’s incredible. Have you ever thought about making a piece that tells a story?"

Y/N smiled faintly, a warmth spreading through her. It wasn’t the first time they’d praised her work, but tonight the words felt different. She’d always struggled with loneliness, her quiet life filled with the hum of the bakery, her art, and the occasional student loan reminder. She wanted to believe that someone truly saw her—her work, her passion.

Y/N: "Thank you. That really means a lot. I’ve thought about telling a story with my art, but it’s harder than it sounds. Maybe something a bit abstract, like capturing the movement of water or the fragility of time."

There was a pause before a reply came through. The thoughtfulness behind the response always struck her. It made her feel... seen.

ArtLover23: "I’d love to see something like that. I think you’d capture the essence perfectly. It’s like you’ve already told a story with every piece."

Y/N typed back quickly, the connection sparking a little bit of excitement inside her.

Y/N: "I’m not sure if I’m that good, but I’m glad you think so."

The message she received back was immediate.

ArtLover23: "I know you are. I can tell by how much care you put into your work. You’re different from the rest."

She bit her lip, a small flush rising to her cheeks. There was something about the sincerity in his words that made her heart flutter—just a little. It wasn’t anything she could place. It was all so... harmless, right?

At least, that’s what she told herself.

---

Jimin leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming lightly on his desk as he stared at the screen. His lips curled into a small, calculating smile. It was easy, almost too easy. She was responding just as he’d hoped.

Her art had captivated him from the very first time he’d stumbled across her profile. He’d seen so many works in his life—so many faces, so many bodies—but her sculptures had a raw, delicate vulnerability to them that drew him in. The way she shaped the clay, the way she sculpted with such care—he could see it in the way she moved, the way she placed every finger against the surface. She poured her soul into it.

And now, he was the one she would pour her soul to.

He’d watched her from afar for weeks now. It was almost poetic, really. The quiet girl with the simple life. She had no idea who he was—not really. She had no idea that he could see everything. Every movement. Every glance. Every sigh.

And soon, she wouldn’t be able to turn away.

But for now, he was content to play the part of the faceless admirer. "ArtLover23" was the perfect guise—sweet, supportive, and above all, anonymous. He didn’t need to reveal himself just yet. Not until she had become comfortable with him. Until she was so deep in the web he’d woven that she would never dream of escaping.

---

Days passed, and Y/N found herself looking forward to the messages from ArtLover23 more than she cared to admit. He wasn’t just a fan—he was someone who understood. And for someone like Y/N, who often felt isolated in her little world, it was a relief. She looked forward to his thoughtful words as though they were a lifeline.

But as the weeks went on, small, strange details began to pop up. At first, they were easy to dismiss. A comment about her favorite painting—one she’d mentioned only once, years ago, to a friend. A mention of the small park near her apartment, where she often walked to clear her mind. The way he seemed to know exactly how she liked to spend her Saturdays—long afternoons at the pottery wheel, always listening to the same jazz playlist.

Y/N brushed it off. Coincidence, she told herself. He must just be observant.

But the unease crept in. A whisper in the back of her mind. Was it really coincidence? Or was it something else?

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard as she typed a message to him.

Y/N: "You always seem to know so much about me. It’s a little… weird, don’t you think?"

The reply came quickly, as expected.

ArtLover23: "I told you, I’ve been watching your work for a long time. I think I understand you better than most people."

Y/N's heart skipped a beat. It was such an innocent reply, yet something about it unsettled her. She wanted to ask more, to confront him, but she didn’t. Not yet.

Instead, she replied with something that felt safer.

Y/N: "Well, I hope you’re not watching me in person too. That’s… that’s a little too much, don’t you think?"

The screen went still. No response. Her fingers tapped nervously on the table as she stared at the message. Then, just as she thought he wouldn’t reply, the response came through.

ArtLover23: "I would never. You’re too beautiful to scare, Y/N. You’re safe with me."

Her pulse quickened as she stared at the screen. There was something about the phrase “you’re safe with me” that struck her wrong, and yet, part of her wanted to believe it. It was a paradox. A tangled mess of fear and comfort.

She didn’t respond. Instead, she closed the laptop with a sharp snap, the weight of the message pressing on her chest like an anchor.

---

Meanwhile, Jimin sat back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips.

He knew he had her. The seed of doubt had been planted. She was already questioning herself, and soon, she’d be begging for answers. But the answers wouldn’t come easily. Not from him.

He leaned forward, fingers brushing over the camera he’d installed in her apartment. It was only a matter of time before he’d get the reward he’d been waiting for. He’d make sure she needed him, and when that moment came, he’d step out of the shadows and claim her completely.

The cool morning air filtered through the bakery's open windows, carrying with it the faint scent of fresh bread and the distant hum of the city. Y/N moved mechanically through her routine—mixing dough, shaping pastries, and setting up for the day. Her hands worked skillfully, but her mind wasn’t entirely present. Lately, there was a gnawing feeling at the back of her mind, a weight that followed her everywhere.

As if on cue, her phone buzzed, breaking her from her thoughts. She picked it up and unlocked the screen, her heart immediately skipping a beat. Another message from ArtLover23.

ArtLover23: "Had a thought about your latest piece. What if the stone wasn’t the medium, but the message? What if you could shape the heart of someone, not the material?"

It was thoughtful. It was weirdly insightful. But as Y/N scanned the message, something about it felt... off. The choice of words felt oddly personal, almost as if he knew her more intimately than he should.

With a sigh, Y/N put her phone down, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling. She turned her attention to a new sculpture she was working on—a large, abstract piece that would require hours of careful attention. Yet, even as she worked, her mind kept drifting back to the messages, to the strange sensation that someone was watching her.

---

It started small, almost imperceptible. At first, it was the missing jewelry. A necklace she always wore, one with a pendant shaped like a crescent moon, had gone missing from her bedside table. Then it was the earrings she’d been sure she left in the bathroom. Little things. Tiny pieces of her life, slipping away, as if someone had taken them just to remind her they were close.

The strange events didn’t stop there. She began to notice things in her apartment—subtle, disturbing things. The windows she always double-checked at night were sometimes left ajar. Her bathroom mirror would fog up, even though the shower had never been turned on. And once, in the middle of the night, she swore she felt someone brushing her cheek, their breath hot against her skin. When she sat up, heart pounding, the room was empty.

She thought she was losing her mind. Paranoia was setting in, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being followed. At night, when she walked home from the bakery, her every step seemed too loud, her heart beating too quickly. She’d glance over her shoulder, but no one was there. Not visibly. But the feeling—it was there.

The final straw came when she received another message from ArtLover23. This one was different. It was a photo, just like before, but this time it was more explicit. The image was blurry at first, but it was clear enough—bare arms covered in tattoos, jewelry glinting in the sunlight, the faint outline of a chest.

No face. Just his tattoos. The same ones she had noticed before, but this time, they were more. The swirls of ink on his forearm. The intricate designs on his fingers. It was unmistakable—this wasn’t just any person. These tattoos were too specific, too unique. She had seen them before.

Her breath caught in her throat. Could it really be?

Y/N: “How do I know these aren’t just random pictures? Who are you, really?”

She didn’t send the message immediately. She sat with her finger poised over the keyboard, the weight of the decision settling on her chest. She wanted to ignore it, to pretend it was just another coincidence. But deep down, she couldn’t. The images felt too personal. Too real.

The response came quickly, far quicker than she’d expected.

ArtLover23: "You’ll know soon enough. I think you’ve already guessed, haven’t you?"

---

The unease became a constant companion. Every time she turned a corner, every time she glanced over her shoulder, it was there. The paranoia crept in, weaving its way into her every thought. It wasn’t just the online messages anymore. It was the feeling of eyes on her wherever she went.

One afternoon, she left the bakery for a quick break, needing to clear her head. The streets were bustling with people, but as she walked along the crowded sidewalk, a sharp chill ran down her spine. There was a figure—just a shadow, standing under a tree near the corner of the street. She couldn’t see their face, but the way they stood, so still, so aware, made her feel like they were waiting for her.

She turned the corner sharply, trying to shake the feeling off, but when she passed by a crowded train station later that day, it happened again. She was walking down the stairs, carrying her bag, when she felt a warm hand brush against her lower back. It wasn’t accidental—this was intentional.

Her heart pounded as she whipped around, but there was no one there. The crowd had shifted, and the person was gone, lost among the others.

A lump formed in her throat. She couldn’t breathe. She wanted to run, but she couldn’t move.

And then, before she could catch her breath, it happened again. A firm hand pressed against her arm, pulling her against a figure in the crowd. She stumbled for a moment, her breath hitching, and tried to push away, but the hand held her firmly in place.

"Careful," a voice whispered against her ear, muffled by the sounds of the city. She could barely make it out, but the voice was deep, smooth. Familiar. It felt like it was laced with a dangerous amusement.

"Who are you?" she managed to ask, trying to pull away, but the grip was too tight.

He didn’t answer her immediately. Instead, the stranger chuckled softly, his breath warm against her neck.

"You’ll find out soon enough, Y/N. But you already know, don’t you?" His voice was laced with something unsettling, something dark. "I’ve been waiting for this moment."

Before she could ask anything else, he slipped away into the crowd, leaving her trembling on the edge of the busy street. She looked around, but there was no sign of him. It was as if he had melted into the crowd, disappeared completely.

She didn’t know what was worse—the fact that someone had touched her so intimately without her consent, or the fact that she felt a strange thrill in it. Her pulse raced as she fought the contradictory emotions inside her—fear, curiosity, and something darker.

---

Back in his apartment, Jimin sat in the dim light of his room, the shadows of the city stretching across the floor. He had watched her—watched her in the bakery, watched her when she was on the streets, watched her when she was completely unaware.

His fingers tapped on his phone screen as he sent her the latest message. He watched her reaction with a quiet, satisfied smile. The game was close to over, but he wasn’t ready to reveal everything just yet.

He would keep her on edge, keep her craving him, until she couldn’t imagine a life without him.

Y/N could feel it in the air. The tension had been building for days, creeping into her life like a storm that she couldn’t outrun. She could no longer dismiss the feeling that she was being watched—couldn’t ignore the sense that someone was always nearby. It wasn’t just the missing jewelry, the opened windows, or the hand on her back in the crowd. No, it was everything. The gifts that appeared in her apartment when she wasn’t looking, the cryptic texts, the unnerving photos—each piece of the puzzle had been carefully placed, one after the other, until they formed an unmistakable pattern. A pattern she had refused to see until now.

But tonight, everything would change. Tonight, she would find out who had been behind it all.

She walked through the dimly lit streets, her steps quick but unsteady. The bakery was closed for the night, the warm, comforting scent of bread replaced by the sharp, metallic taste of fear in her throat. The closer she got to her apartment, the more her unease grew. She could feel it. Someone was there.

And then, as she approached her building, the familiar pressure of being watched pressed into her chest. She heard the rustle of a coat, the faint shuffle of footsteps behind her. Her breath quickened, her heart pounding in her chest, but she refused to turn around.

She had to face this.

When she reached the door to her apartment, she fumbled with the keys, desperately trying to get inside, but her hands were shaking too much. The sound of footsteps grew louder, closer, and just as she was about to step inside, a hand—warm and firm—pressed against the door, halting her.

“Not yet,” the voice whispered, smooth and dangerously familiar.

Y/N’s heart skipped. Her stomach twisted. It was him.

Before she could react, the door was pushed open, and she was pulled inside, her back slamming against the cool, hard wall. The lights were off, but she didn’t need them to recognize the figure standing before her. She had seen him before—through the photos, in the shadows, in her every waking thought.

Park Jimin.

Her pulse raced as her mind struggled to process the sight before her. This wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be.

Jimin’s eyes glinted in the darkness, the corners of his lips curling into a smirk. “You’re surprised,” he said, his voice low, almost teasing. “You really didn’t know?”

Y/N’s breath hitched as the realization crashed over her like a wave. “You… you’re him?” she choked out, her voice trembling with disbelief. "You're the one—you have been stalking me? All this time?”

Jimin didn’t answer at first. He simply stepped closer, his presence looming over her like a dark cloud. His eyes never left hers, watching, studying her with a calm intensity that made her feel exposed—vulnerable in a way she hadn’t felt before.

“Did you think it was just some random stranger?” His voice was almost playful now, as if he were enjoying her confusion. “Did you think this was all just a coincidence?”

Y/N’s mind raced, her thoughts a blur. She wanted to push him away, to scream at him for everything he had done, but her body betrayed her. She stood frozen, unable to move. Her hands were clenched into fists, but they hung limply at her sides.

Jimin reached out, gently cupping her face in his hand. She flinched at the touch, but he didn’t pull away. “You were never just a random person to me,” he continued, his voice dripping with something dark, something possessive. “From the moment I saw you, I knew. I had to have you.”

The words hung in the air between them, suffocating. She recoiled from his touch, her pulse racing as the anger surged within her. “Why? Why me?” Her voice cracked with disbelief, but there was an edge of something else beneath it—fear. “Why would you do this to me? All of it… the stalking, the messages, the pictures—am I just some game to you? An object for your twisted obsession?”

Jimin didn’t flinch. He only smiled, the expression almost affectionate. “No. You’re not a game.” His fingers traced the line of her jaw, his touch light but insistent. “You’re everything to me. You always have been.”

“Everything?” Her voice rose, her fury igniting. “Everything?!” Her hands clenched, her chest tightening with rage. “You’ve been stalking me, invading my life, and you’re obsessed with me? How the hell could I be ‘everything’ to you?”

Jimin’s smile never wavered. He took a step back, his gaze never leaving hers, and for a moment, he was silent. The weight of his words pressed down on her as the room seemed to shrink. The quiet tension between them was palpable.

“You don’t understand, do you?” Jimin’s voice was softer now, almost pensive, as though he were explaining something delicate, something necessary. “It’s not about control. Not about owning you. It’s about needing you. You don’t belong to me, Y/N.” He took another step forward, his eyes narrowing. “But I can’t let you go. Not now. Not ever.”

Her breath came in quick bursts, and she wanted to push him away, to run. But part of her—something dark and dangerous inside—wanted to hear more. It sickened her, but the curiosity was there, burrowing under her skin.

“No, you’re wrong,” she spat, her voice trembling with both fury and confusion. “You can’t just take someone, not like this. It’s sick! You’re sick! How could you think I would ever want this—this madness?”

Jimin stepped closer again, and this time she didn’t pull away. He raised his hand and gently brushed his thumb against her lower lip, his eyes searching her face as if he were studying her very soul.

“You want it, Y/N,” he said softly, his words almost a whisper, like a confession. “You want this. You feel it too. That’s why you keep coming back. That’s why you didn’t run.”

Y/N froze, the words ringing in her ears. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Her heart hammered in her chest. “No…” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “No, I don’t.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Jimin replied, his voice sharp now, confident. “You do want me. You wanted this from the moment you noticed me, didn’t you?”

Her eyes filled with anger, but there was something else there too—a glimmer of truth, something she didn’t want to face. She felt the pull, the sick fascination, the twisted part of her that couldn’t deny the thrill of it all. Of him.

She stepped back, trying to gather her thoughts. “I hate you,” she spat, the words laced with venom. “I hate everything about this.”

Jimin simply smiled, stepping even closer now, until his body was almost pressed against hers. “You’ll learn to love me. You’ll need me. And when you do, you’ll realize how foolish you were to resist.” His lips brushed against her ear, and he whispered, “You’ve always been mine, Y/N. I just needed you to see it.”

---

The room felt heavy, suffocating with their emotions. Y/N’s heart raced, her body trembling with a combination of rage and something darker, something that disgusted her even more because she couldn’t deny it—there was a part of her that wanted him. The power he had over her, the way he twisted her thoughts, it scared her, but it also made her feel alive in a way she didn’t want to admit.

As Jimin watched her, his expression unreadable, she realized something. She could hate him all she wanted. She could push him away, scream at him, but it didn’t matter.

He was already inside her. The damage was done.

The tension between Y/N and Jimin had reached a fever pitch, each moment a precarious balance of power, manipulation, and twisted desire.

Every move she made, every breath she took, seemed to be under his watchful eye, but the strangest part was how he always knew how to stay one step ahead. It was like a game-one where she was both the prey and the willing player, her instincts torn between fighting back and giving in.

He had warned her. She had ignored him.

The night she went out with another customer- an innocent enough date, or so she thought-had been the line she crossed. His texts were brief, cold, threatening: "I warned you about consequences, Y/N. Don't make me teach you a lesson."

She should've listened. She knew better. But her anger, her stubbornness, her need to prove something-it made her reckless. The man on the date had been charming, attentive, everything Jimin wasn't. And for a moment, as she laughed at his jokes and enjoyed the normalcy of it all, she had almost forgotten about Jimin and his suffocating grip on her life. But the moment she stepped through the door to her apartment, that illusion shattered.

Jimin was waiting for her, his posture relaxed but his eyes dark, calculating. The air was thick with anticipation, the quiet hum of power pulsing between them like electricity.

"You thought I wouldn't notice?" His voice was deceptively calm, but there was an underlying edge that made her spine stiffen. "You really thought you could go out with another man and not face the consequences?"

Y/N opened her mouth to argue, but the words got stuck in her throat. She had pushed him too far. She knew it, and deep down, she regretted it.

Y/N opened her mouth to argue, but the words got stuck in her throat. She had pushed him too far. She knew it, and deep down, she regretted it.

His eyes narrowed, and without another word, he motioned for her to come closer. "Get over here," he demanded, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Her feet moved instinctively, but her heart pounded in her chest, a mix of fear and something darker-something dangerous. She wanted to fight. She wanted to scream at him, to shove him away and tell him she didn't need this, but deep down, she understood that this was his world. She was just a pawn in it, and he held all the power.

As she stood before him, her defiance rising, Jimin didn't give her a chance to argue. With one swift movement, he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her down across his lap. She gasped, her body tense with shock, her hands bracing against his leg to steady herself.

"I warned you," he murmured, his fingers gently caressing the curve of her hips before his hand came down hard across her bottom.

Y/N's breath caught in her throat, a mix of pain and shock rippling through her. She tried to squirm away, but Jimin's grip was unyielding, his fingers digging into her sides. Another smack landed on her other cheek, and she gasped again, the sting sending a shiver down her spine.

"Still think this is a game, Y/N?" he asked, his voice low and filled with an eerie calmness that made her blood run cold.

She glared at him, her face flushed with a mix of humiliation and rage. "You're sick," she spat, but the words felt weak, impotent.

He didn't flinch. Instead, he smirked, the amusement in his eyes cutting through her like a blade. "You wanted this, didn't you? You pushed me, and now you're here. Don't pretend you're not enjoying it." Another slap, and she winced, the stinging sensation making her flinch.

Tears welled in her eyes, her chest heaving with the rawness of the moment. Her body trembled from the sting of his strikes, but it wasn't just physical. It was the betrayal-the realization that she had given him control once again.

She should have fought harder. She should have run.

But here she was, in his lap, tears blurring her vision, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The anger, the humiliation, the desire-it all tangled together in a twisted knot that she couldn't undo.

Jimin's hand gently stroked her back, as if he were soothing her, and it only made her more furious. "Shh, it's okay. You know I'm doing this for your own good, right? You need to be taught a lesson. You need to learn that you can't just go around doing whatever you want."

The punishment had been excruciating. The sting still burned in her bottom, a reminder of her defiance and his dominance. She sat on the edge of her bed, her chest heaving with the aftermath of Jimin's touch and the power he had over her. But instead of the quiet moment of reflection she’d expected, the anger inside her surged, bubbling up like a volcano ready to explode.

"You're sick!" she shouted, her voice cracking. "You think you're some god, some... some king who can control every single part of me?" Her hands trembled with rage as she pulled at her hair, pacing around the room. "I hate you! I hate how you watch me, how you manipulate me, how you—"

Her breath hitched, and the words came out faster, more venomous. "You're nothing but a coward, hiding behind your games, your little tricks. I don’t need you!"

She turned to face the bed, her eyes blazing with fury. "You don’t get to decide who I am! You don’t get to control me, Jimin!"

But even as she screamed, even as her mind raced with all the things she wanted to hurl at him, she knew he wasn’t there. He was gone.

Or was he?

Her hands went to her phone—her constant tether to him, to the man who’d been watching her every move—and unlocked it. She opened the messages he’d sent her, rereading the cold, calculated words. The threat in each message. The subtle pull he had on her. And yet, there was nothing. No message. No sign of him.

Nothing.

A sick, twisted part of her—part of her that she had come to hate—waited for the ping of a new message, a new sign that he was still watching. That he was still there. But the silence grew more oppressive.

Was he really gone?

Y/N stood up abruptly, her blood boiling. She couldn’t stand it. The silence. The absence.

Her fists clenched at her sides as she stormed out of her room, her steps echoing through the apartment. She went straight to the drawers, rifling through them with a sense of desperation. Where were they? The cameras. The ones she had always known were there, hidden, watching.

She tore apart the living room, throwing cushions, upturning furniture, desperate to find something—anything—that would confirm he was still here, still controlling her. Her heart pounded in her chest as she ripped through the place. The more she searched, the angrier she became. Each empty space, each hidden corner felt like a taunt.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, she found a small, hidden device in the corner of the living room, partially obscured behind a bookshelf. She grabbed it, holding it up like a weapon.

She was panting now, her body trembling from the rage that had overtaken her.

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” she hissed, glaring at the camera. “You think you’re so damn obsessed with me. You think I can’t see through your games.” Her voice cracked as she spoke, raw from the emotions tearing her apart.

Her fingers were shaking as she typed out a message to him, but her anger was so palpable that her hands could barely hold the phone steady. "If you’re so obsessed with me, Jimin, then come out. Face me. Take me. I’m done with this game, I’m done with hiding. If you’re watching me, come and take me, because I can’t do this anymore."

She threw the phone on the couch with a frustrated scream, her breath heavy as she stared at the empty space around her. The silence felt deafening now, unbearable.

Where was he?

The room felt colder, the absence of his presence almost suffocating. But as she turned around, a shadow in the corner of the room caught her eye. Slowly, cautiously, she stepped forward, her heart racing in her chest.

And there he was.

Jimin, standing in the doorway, watching her with an unreadable expression. He was silent, his gaze steady and calm, almost as if he had been waiting for this moment.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, a mixture of anger, frustration, and something else—something darker—raging inside her. Her fists clenched at her sides.

“You were watching,” she spat, her voice trembling with the force of her fury. “You were always watching.”

Jimin’s lips curled into a small, satisfied smile. “I’m always watching, Y/N. And you know that.”

He took a slow step forward, his presence suddenly overwhelming as he closed the distance between them. He was calm, collected, but the way he looked at her made her feel like prey.

“You didn’t have to search, you know,” he said quietly. “You already knew I was here. You wanted me to come.”

Her heart raced faster. The realization hit her harder than she expected—he knew. He always knew what she was thinking, what she was feeling.

“You’re sick,” she whispered, but this time, her voice was softer. There was no fight left in her.

He tilted his head, his eyes glinting with something dangerous. “Am I? Or are you just as twisted as I am?”

Y/N didn’t answer. She didn’t have to. The silence between them now held all the weight of the truth.

The silence in the apartment had thickened after Y/N's words, her confession hanging heavily between them. But Jimin wasn't fazed by her fury. He was calm, too calm, and that only made Y/N's pulse race faster, her breath hitching in her throat.

She hadn't expected him to stand there. Hadn't expected him to just... wait. It infuriated her even more.

"You think you can just walk in here, and everything will be fine?" Her voice was barely more than a growl, but the edge in it was clear.

"You think after all of this, I'll just let you have me?"

Jimin stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. Every movement was slow, deliberate, as if he enjoyed watching her struggle against the growing pull between them. His eyes never left hers, the heat in them unmistakable.

"You already know the answer to that," he said quietly, his voice low, as though they were the only two people in the world. "You've always known it."

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest. The distance between them was so small now, yet it felt like an eternity. She wanted to push him away, to scream at him, but every inch of her body craved him. The tension between them was unbearable, a raw need that neither of them could deny.

Jimin reached for her, his fingers grazing the side of her face, soft yet possessive. His touch sent a jolt of electricity through her, and she swallowed, trying to control the emotions threatening to overtake her.

"Why do you think you're here?" he asked, his lips brushing her ear as his hand slid down her neck. "Because you wanted this. You wanted me to make you mine."

Y/N's body responded against her will, her skin flushing, her breath quickening. She hated how much she wanted this, how much she needed him. But she couldn't stop herself. She wanted to feel everything-wanted him to prove that he could make her forget all the anger, all the hate.

Jimin's hands moved lower, pushing her clothes aside with practiced ease. There was no hesitation, no mercy in his touch. He wasn't going to let her run. Not now. Not ever again.

With a swift motion, he pressed her against the wall, his lips crashing into hers, silencing the words, the anger, everything between them. His kiss was hard, demanding, a physical manifestation of everything he'd built up in the silence, in the stalking, in the control. His mouth claimed hers as though he had every right to do so, and the fierceness in his kiss made her knees weak.

Y/N struggled to breathe as his hands roamed her body, touching her in ways that made her tremble. She tried to push him back, to pull away, but he wasn't having it. He pinned her there, his body pressing against hers with a possessiveness that left no room for escape.

"You're mine," Jimin whispered against her lips, his breath hot and heavy. "You always have been."

His hands slid down her body, caressing her skin with an almost reverent touch, as if he were marking her. His lips followed the trail of his hands, kissing down her neck, nipping at her sensitive skin. The more he touched her, the more she felt herself slipping-slipping into something darker, something she wasn't sure she could control anymore.

"Jimin-" Y/N gasped, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and desire.

"You don't get to say my name like that," he growled, his tone filled with a possessiveness that made her stomach tighten. "Not unless you're ready to be mine. Completely."

She wanted to say no. Wanted to scream, push him away, and tell him she didn't need him. But when his lips found her collarbone, when he kissed the skin beneath her ear, she melted. She couldn't fight it. Not anymore.

He pulled her closer, lifting her easily as if she were nothing, and carried her to the bed. Every movement, every touch, was calculated. Every inch of her skin he touched, every time he kissed her, it was a claim. A claim on her body, on her heart, on her soul.

Y/N's hands trembled as they touched his chest, tracing the tattoos she had seen in those secret, faceless photos. His body, the ink, the jewelry- all of it. It was him. And in that moment, she realized she could never escape him. Not now. Not when he made her feel like this.

She reached for him, desperate, and pulled him down on top of her, her legs wrapping around his waist. Jimin groaned against her mouth, the sound of it sending shivers down her spine.

"You're mine now," he whispered again, more urgently this time, as if reminding her of something they both knew deep down.

Her pulse raced as he lowered his lips to her neck, kissing the soft skin there, marking it with the same possessiveness that filled his voice. His hands were everywhere, claiming her as his, branding her with every touch. She could feel the heat between them, the intensity of the moment, and there was no going back now.

As Jimin moved over her, taking control in a way that both terrified and thrilled her, she finally let go. All the anger, all the frustration-everything melted away. There was only him, only this moment, and she couldn't deny that it was everything she had been craving.

In his arms, in his touch, she finally understood.

She had always been his

And now, he was making sure she never forgot it.

He pinned her hands above her head as his free hand reached behind her back to unbuckled her bra. He leaned down to kiss her breasts and suck on her nipples “Fuck you taste so fuckin' good baby, just how I imagined” she whimpered as he bit down on it and moved lower and lower, palming her through her shorts.

He slowly pulled her shorts down with his teeth while making eye contact with her, she almost let out a moan at how hot he looked. He pressed his mouth on her clothed cunt, pressing his tongue on her before pulling it down as well.

She was beautiful, and so fuckin' wet— he couldn't help but dip one of his finger inside her, drawing out a whimper from her, “you've been fantasizing about these fingers for a while, haven't you baby? I've seen you use that weak little vibrator on yourself” she blushed, throwing a hand on her eyes to try to shield herself from the embarrassment.

He pinched her clit, receiving a surprised yelp from her— god she would be the death of him the way her pretty little eyes threw him a glare almost made him cum right there in his pants, he doubled down spanking her clit, it hurt so good it was enough to make her moan out his name and make her eyes roll back.

He smirked “I want your eyes on me princess, you've already been so bad…don't make me punish you twice. Have I made myself clear, doll?” She bit her lip and rested her hand on her side.

He spanks her thighs, “use your mouth pretty” he smirked as she let out a firm yes.

He bent down to flatten his tongue against her— fuck she tasted so fucking sweet, he moaned against her as he pushed two digits inside her sopping cunt, she gasped “hnngh hurts jimin…” he scoffed “if you're hurting with just my fingers how do you plan on taking my cock doll?”

She let out a pathetic whimper and he sighed “don't worry, I'll take good care of my princess. My pretty girls never been fucked, has she?” She shook her head, earning another harsh slap on her clit, “no..” she replied, her lips forming into a pout. Jimin snickered and picked up his pace, bending down to suck and lick on her clit.

He kissed her folds and clit, moaning and praising her. Her head was spinning from the overwhelming pleasure Jimin was providing. It felt so good.

He continued his ministration until she came all over his tongue, letting out an almost guttural moan of his name.

Jimin hummed and sneaked his hands underneath her, pinching her ass cheeks before flipping her over. She heard a muffle sound of belt unbuckling and his pants falling.

Jimin stroked his cock slowly, rubbing it between her folds making her gasp. She peeked over her shoulder trying to get a glimpse of him and the sight alone was enough to make her cum. He looked so fuckin' delicious— his tip a pretty berry coloured and he was sooo deliciously thick her mouth watered at the thought of having him inside her. Jimin noticed her expression and chuckled, rubbing it against her clit, drawing out a small whimper “pretty girl likes my cock hmm? Don't worry baby, a few more minutes and I'll have you bouncing dumb on it”, he pats her head, giggling when he sees her blush.

Jimin grabbed a handful of her ass, fondling it. He clicked his tongue in mock sympathy “your pretty little ass is still so red from the punishment earlier princess. Tell me, did you secretly enjoy it, doll?” she blushed, hiding her face and he kissed his teeth and reached down, sliding his hand up her head and grabbing her hair before pulling her up against him. She let out a startled moan as he pulled her flush against him “ I asked a question princess. Did you secretly enjoy your punishment earlier?” He asked lining himself against her “y-yes…I-I did Jimin” he slowly pushed him tip in, making her eyes roll back as she shook her head “n-no please not…not like this…I wanna..h-hold you please” she begged looking back at him and he hummed kissing her neck and pulled out.

He knew this was her first time and as much as he wanted to pile drive her into oblivion through the back, he wanted to make sure she's comfortable and felt good for the first round. He laid her down comfortably and got on top of her, “is this better my pretty girl?” she nods, and pulls him closer, circling her arms around his neck pulling him close and hiding her face in his shoulder. Jimin kissed her neck before reaching down to rub himself against her, “look at that princess…fuck your cunts so fucking tiny…how's my cock supposed to fucking fit in hmm?” He mused, chuckling to himself.

“It'll fit” she moaned, her chest heaving.

“Is that right princess?” He bit her cheeks, kissing her to distract her from the burn as he pushed himself inside her in one swift motion. She moaned, whining into his mouth. He sucked on her tongue, making her eyes roll back as she rubbed her clit.

He kissed her, squeezing her nipples teasingly. He gave her some time to adjust before pulling out. He was hitting each and every spot inside her. So fucking thick— her eyes rolled back as she clutched on jimins back, scratching it in process as he slowly started thrusting in and out of her.

He slowly picked up his pace. Her eyes rolled back as he started rubbing against her G- spot. Her legs clamped shut around his waist, pulling him unbelievably close to her. “God—fuck princess, don't wrap your legs around me like that if you don't want me to fuck a baby inside your sweet cunt” he moaned, his eyes wandering over her face as it contorts in pleasure.

She looked so pretty as he bounced her dumb on his cock, the only thing leaving her mouth was the moans of his name. She said it like a prayer. He loved it. He had been dreaming about it for the longest time. He kissed her, flicking her tongue with his own as he pounded against her sweet spot.

He felt her throbbing around him, his own cock twitched at the sensation. She clenched around him so tight his vision went blank.

She felt a sharp spank land on her ass “fuck— princess, shit— loosen up! cmon doll, or I'll end up blowing my load inside your pretty little cunt”

Jimin moaned “fuck— that's right baby, cream around my cock, fuckfuckfuck you're clenching so hard—ahn, fuck that's right milk my cock for all it's worth, attagirl” as he fucked her through her orgasm.

“Inside, please…do it …I'm so..so close jimin—fuck, you're…you're so thick” she moaned arching her back against him.

Jimin groaned as he continued thrusting inside her, his hips snapping against her harder and faster. He pulled her In an open mouthed kiss, sucking on her tongue, flicking it and reaching his hand down, rubbing her clit.

Her legs started shaking and her vision went black, as she clenched around him and came all over him.

He pinned her hands above her and started chasing his own high as he came deep inside her. The sensation of him cumming inside her was so fucking addicted, she found herself beggin for more. Wanting him to cum inside her over and over again as he fucked her dumb on her mattress all night long.

[cressidagrey]

The moment I could see it - Part 1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Ariel Cane (Original Character)

Summary: 5 Times that Gianpiero Lambiase thinks that Ariel Cane and Max Verstappen are weirdly similar…and 1 time he is just happy that the two of them are no longer pining after each other. 

Warnings: 

GP's POV, mention of cancer, mention of parent's death

Author Notes: I am back to my old tricks...which means I write from the most random of POV's just because. (I once wrote a chapter from a dog's POV so like, GP doesn't even really count.

The very first time Gianpiero Lambiase met Ariel Cane, it was a quiet summer evening in August 2015. 

He had just gotten home from the Belgian GP…and he and his wife Laura had finally closed on a house in Milton Keynes. 

A charming red brick two story, with a bright blue front door, at the end of a quiet street with patch of a garden. Less than 5 minutes away by foot from the Factory and near a daycare for Francesca, their daughter. 

The knock at the door was unsurprising because GP had just ordered Chinese takeout…

But when he opened the door…it wasn’t a delivery driver. 

No, instead there was a teenage girl on his doorstep. With a cloud of bright red hair, a dimpled smile and Tupperware box of… something in her hands that she thrust at him. 

“Welcome to the neighbourhood!” she told him brightly. “I am Ariel. We live in the house with the red front door. I made you some cookies!”

This was the last thing he had expected. 

Actually, he could just stare at her for a moment, while Francesca happily clapped in her hands. 

GP couldn’t help but chuckl as his young daughter reached towars Ariel's hair, her tiny hands grasping air as he pulled her back. The toddler's babbling, "Red! Red! Red!" seemed to break the awkward silence that had settled between them.

"Thank you," he managed to say, his voice roughened by laughter. "That's very kind of you. I'm Gianpiero, and this little one is Francesca."

Ariel’s smile seemed to brighten at the introduction. “It’s nice to meet you. And you too!” she chirped to Francesca, whose little face was peering over her father’s shoulder, still trying to grab her hair.

Gianpiero balanced his daughter on his hip, still a little bemused by the whole situation. With Francesca squirming in his arms, he shifted the Tupperware box under one arm and extended his free hand. "Thank you for the cookies," he said graciously, glancing at the contents of the box.

They looked delicious, that was for sure. Freshly baked and still warm from the oven.

"Did you make these yourself?" he asked wracking his head to come up with something to say. 

Ariel nodded enthusiastically, that sunny smile never fading. "Yep!" she confirmed, as his daughter started babbling ‘cookie’ repeatedly, trying to reach for the box. "I love baking! My mum…she taught me how."

GP hummed in acknowledgement, carefully keeping the Tupperware out of Francesca's reach. He wouldn't put it past his daughter to snatch the cookies and try to eat them all on her own.

His gaze returned to Ariel, taking in the girl's bright, cheerful demeanour. She couldn't be more than…17 or 16, her limbs not having lost their coltish length, but there was a maturity in her eyes.

"You're very young to be baking cookies for neighbours," he remarked, hoping it didn't sound like a criticism.

Ariel just shrugged nonchalantly. "I just wanted to make a good impression," she said casually, like it was the most natural thing in the world for a teenager to bake cookies for total strangers.

GP’s amused surprise only grew.

"And you certainly have," he assured her, fighting a smile as his daughter kept trying to snatch the box of cookies. "Not many teenagers would take the time to bake for the new neighbours."

He managed to move the box successfully out of view from Francesca, who then started complaining loudly.

Loudly enough that it pulled his wife’s attention.

The commotion had brought Laura to the doorway, drying her hands on a towel. As soon as she appeared, Francesca instantly held her arms out to her, wanting her mother instead of her father.

Laura chuckled, taking Francesca into her arms and kissing the top of her head. The toddler immediately quieted down, clutching at her mother's shirt.

"What's going on here?" Laura asked, gazing quizzically at their new neighbour.

GP chuckled and held up the Tupperware box as explanation.

"Apparently, we're being welcomed to the neighbourhood with cookies."

Laura’s expression softened, an amused smile on her lips. "That’s so sweet," she said brightly, her free hand coming to gently ruffle Francesca’s hair.

"Ariel Cane," Ariel introduced herself. "My dad, my sister and I live to your right, in the house with the red door," she explained.

Laura smiled, shifting Francesca to her other hip as the toddler reached up to tug at her hair.

"It's nice to meet you, Ariel," she said, the Tupperware box in GP’s hand momentarily forgotten. "I'm Laura."

"Nice to meet you," Ariel said back, then flashed a smile at the little girl on her mother's hip. "And you too!" Francesca let out a giggle and stuck her tongue out at the new neighbour.

Laura chuckled, gently catching Francesca's hand and pulling it down from her hair.

"I just wanted to say welcome to the neighbourhood," Ariel said quietly. "And if there are any stray cats running around, don’t be surprised! Mrs. Higgins, she lived here before, she used to feed them," she explained.

There it was again, that surprising maturity in her voice.

GP and Laura exchanged a glance, still baffled by the fact that a teenage girl had come to their door with baked cookies in hand.

“That’s very kind of you,” GP said. “We’ll certainly keep that in mind.”

"Just bring back the tupperware whenever," Ariel said brightly. "If I am not there, my father's healthcare aid is there, so somebody will probably answer the door."

"And let me know if you ever need a babysitter. I have a younger sister so I am well-versed. And Francesca is adorable," she offered brightly. "I am sorry, I need to get back...Gloria's shift is ending..." she trailed off for a moment. "Ah...and if you ever see a ambulance parked in front of our house, don't worry, it's for our dad...he has cancer, so..."

GP’s expression immediately softened. The mention of her father's condition hung awkwardly in the air, the cheerful atmosphere dampening slightly.

Laura was the first to speak, reaching out to gently touch the girl’s shoulder.

"I’m sorry to hear that," she said softly, genuine sympathy in her voice.

"I hope he'll be alright," GP added, shifting the Tupperware box in his hand.

Ariel's expression didn’t change, but it was clear that the topic of her father’s health was a sensitive one. She forced a smile to her lips, although it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Yeah...he will," she said, her voice just a tad brittle.

The silence that followed was awkward and thick, none of them quite knowing what to say.

It was Francesca who broke the tension, letting out a soft whine at the lack of attention. Laura gently shushed the little girl, before once again addressing Ariel.

"Thank you again for the cookies," she said kindly. "It was lovely meeting you, Ariel."

"It was lovely meeting you both," Ariel replied, her usual cheer returning to her voice. "And you too, Francesca!"

The toddler giggled and made a grab for the bright red hair again. Laura pulled her hand off gently, chuckling.

"Goodbye," Ariel said with a final wave, before turning around and quickly heading back to her own house.

GP and Laura watched her go, both of them quietly contemplating the girl’s words. Her father’s illness suddenly put everything into a different perspective.

Laura let out a soft sigh, readjusting her grip on Francesca.

"That poor girl…"

GP nodded in agreement, the Tupperware box seemingly heavier in his hand than it had been a few minutes ago.

"It must be tough," he mused, turning the corner of his mouth down. “Caring for your dad, while still being so young…”

"And a younger sister, don't forget that," Laura added. "Did she say anything about her mother?"

GP paused, thinking back to the earlier conversation. “Just that her mother taught her how to bake,” he said after a moment, a small frown on his face. “I guess she’s not in the picture, maybe?”

“Maybe a single dad, raising them by himself,” Laura said with a soft sigh, one of her hands gently tousling Francesca’s brown locks.

The toddler let out a little grumble, turning her head away from the touch.

“And taking care of him as well,” GP shook his head. “It’s a lot for someone so young to handle.”

There was a heavy silence as they both silently commiserated over the girl’s situation. GP let out a soft exhale, shifting the Tupperware box to his other hand.

“I hope her dad gets better soon,” he said quietly. “For her sake, more than anyone else’s.”

It took him two days to convince himself that it wouldn’t be weird to bring back the Tupperware – and he certainly wasn’t just using it as an excuse to check in on the girl. 

So he found himself walking up the path to the red front door, the Tupperware box in hand.

He knocked on the door, the Tupperware feeling heavy in his hand. After a moment, he could hear the sound of soft footsteps approaching the door. The door was opened by another red-headed girl, nearly identically to her older sister other than the colour of her eyes. Her were dark brown, her sisters were blue.

"Can I help you`?" she asked him, her eyebrows furrowing. 

GP found himself momentarily taken aback by the unexpected sight of the younger sister. 

"Ah, yes," he said, quickly recovering from the surprise. "I'm returning these," he said, holding up the Tupperware for her to see.

The girl, who he assumed was Ariel's little sister, stared at him through the crack of the front door with a cautious expression. She was clearly assessing him, trying to determine if he posed a threat or not.

"ARIEL!" she screamed loudly.

"Em, be quiet," came Ariel's voice, worried. "Dad just fell asleep. Don't wake him, please."

Gianpiero tried not to chuckle. He was getting the distinct impression the little sister was rather fierce.

Ariel appeared behind her younger sibling seconds later, her eyes lighting up with recognition as she spotted him on the doorstep.

"Hello, Mr. Lambiase!" she chirped with a smile. Her cheerful greeting made him chuckle.

"You can just call me GP," he said. He held up the Tupperware in his hand again. "I just wanted to return this."

"Oh, right," she chimed, reaching for the Tupperware. As she did so, her little sister, Em, gave him a suspicious look, still standing by the door.

Gianpiero found himself amused by the girl’s distrust. She seemed rather protective.

"Thanks," Ariel said as she accepted the Tupperware from him. She gave him another smile.

Meanwhile, Em was still standing a few steps behind, eyeing him intently. Gianpiero caught her gaze and gave her a small, friendly wave.

“And who’s this?” he asked, nodding towards the younger girl.

Ariel glanced back at her sister, who was still staring at him with an almost suspicious expression. She didn’t seem quite as sunny and cheerful as her older sister.

Ariel sighed softly.

"This is my little sister, Emma," she introduced the girl, who just continued staring at him without saying a word.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he said, addressing Emma directly. “Your sister made some really nice cookies.”

"I know," Emma said seriously. "Ariel makes the best cookies. They taste just like Mom's used to."

Ariel winced ever so slightly, though her smile stayed firmly in place. It was obvious that their mother was a sensitive topic for them.

"Well,” GP said lightly, not wanting to linger on the subject, "they were delicious."

He cast a subtle glance towards Ariel, noticing the way her smile seemed a fraction more brittle.

This poor family really had been through so much, and the kids were paying the price.

"Girls, who is at the door?" the voice was croaky. The man that belonged it to...didn't look very well at all.

His complexion was wan and drawn, and he seemed to be struggling to keep himself upright. Whatever illness he was suffering from was clearly taking a toll.

"Dad you are supposed to rest," Ariel said quickly, abandoning the door, to rush to her father's side.

The man waved a hand at her, a look of determined stubbornness on his face.

"I'm fine," he insisted, despite the fact his voice was croaky and he could barely stand.

"Dad,” Ariel protested, catching him as he stumbled slightly. GP instinctively took a step forward, ready to assist if he needed to.

The father tried to bat her hands away, but his movements were weak and shaky.

"I’m fine," he repeated, albeit unconvincingly. "Stop fussing."

Ariel looked like she wanted to protest again, but instead helped him hobble back into the house, gently but firmly keeping an arm around him to prevent him from falling.

Ariel let out a sigh of annoyance as her father continued to insist he was fine. Clearly, this was a familiar argument.

"You’re not fine," she scolded, supporting him by the arm to prevent him from falling. "You need to rest."

The man opened his mouth to argue, but before he could say anything, he was overcome by a racking coughing fit. GP winced in sympathy, watching as the man struggled to catch his breath.

Ariel’s expression darkened with worry, her grip on her father’s arm tightening.

The coughing fit ended as suddenly as it came, leaving the poor man looking even more feeble than before.

"Who's that?" he managed to croak, his eyes half-lidded and weary.

Ariel looked back towards GP, a slight look of concern on her face. She was clearly reluctant leave her father’s side, but also didn’t want to be rude to him.

Before she could respond, Gianpiero decided to answer for himself. “I’m Gianpiero Lambiase. We just moved in next door,” he said, keeping his voice gentle.

The man's expression turned into one of realization as he pieced the information together. He let out a weak chuckle, which turned into a cough again.

"Ah, the new neighbours," he rasped hoarsely. "I remember my girls mentioning you. I’m Paul Cane."

Gianpiero smiled at the introduction, though it quickly faded at the sight of the man's ill state. His eyes were sunken and weary, the skin around them drawn with exhaustion and pain.

"It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Cane," he said, his voice low and kind.

Paul nodded in acknowledgement, though any attempt at a proper greeting was cut off by another coughing fit.

GP fought the urge to wince; the man’s ragged coughing sounded downright painful.

Ariel, meanwhile, continued to support her father, but her eyes were filled with worry. She looked so young and so concerned, it was heart wrenching to see.

The coughing subsided once again just as quickly as it had come, though it left Paul even more breathless than before. He leaned heavily on his daughter, looking as if he was going to pass out.

Ariel’s grip on her father tightened, her expression one of both worry and frustration. "You need to go back to bed, Dad," she pleaded.

"I’m fine," Paul tried to protest again, but his weak voice betrayed any attempt at bravado. He was clearly struggling, even though he refused to admit it.

Ariel, however, was not having it. "Dad, you're not fine, and you know it," she said, her voice firm but gentle. "You need to rest or you’re going to make yourself even worse."

"i just wanted to bring back the Tupperware. Your daughter made some amazing cookies," GP said quickly.

Despite the fact that Paul was clearly struggling, he managed a weak attempt at a smile.

"Ah...yeah, my girls are great with baking," he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "They take after their mother, she was a great cook..."

Ariel flinched at the mention of her mother, her expression darkening.

GP was quick to notice the look on Ariel’s face, and the way she tensed. It was clear that the topic of their mother was a sensitive one.

He shifted uncomfortably, not entirely sure how to navigate this particular subject.

Paul didn’t seem to notice his daughter’s reaction, instead, he turned his attention back to GP.

"Thank you for returning the Tupperware," he managed to say, his voice still weak.

GP nodded, sympathetic. "No problem," he said quietly. His eyes flicked to Ariel again, wondering how all of this must be affecting her and her younger sister. They were both so young, dealing with so much.

"Well, I should get going," he said carefully. "If there is anything I can do to help, just...ring the doorbell?" he offered questioningly.

Paul nodded faintly in response, though it was a gesture that clearly took a lot out of him. "Yeah...yeah, sure," he rasped hoarsely, before lapsing into another coughing fit.

Ariel shot a grateful look at GP, mouthing the words 'thank you' before redirecting her attention to her father, who was leaning heavily on her.

GP took a step back, knowing they had bigger things to worry about than him.

"Take care," he said earnestly. "And please...try to take care of yourself," he added, aiming the comment towards Paul.

This defineitly didn't put his neighbours out of his mind. Actually the exact opposite.

He thought about himself at 17. He couldn't have shouldered that kind of responsibility that Ariel Cane.

But then he thought about the other 17 year old that he had interacted with lately. Whereas Ariel Cane seemingly was mature beyond her years, unwilling to take any risks...Max Verstappen had spent his weekend in Belgium pulling a hat trick on Felipe Nasr and giving everybody on the paddock grey hairs for deciding that overtaking somebody around Blanchimont was clearly something that he could do.

The worst part was actually that he had shown that it was very much possible.

GP had to admit, he couldn't help but chuckle as he thought of the young driver's audacious move.

Max Verstappen was an extremely talented boy, but he certainly wouldn't win any awards for caution or restraint anytime soon.

In some ways seemingly the exact opposite of Ariel...but then they were both clearly having to shoulder a whole lot more responsibility than GP ever had needed to at this age.

The stark difference between how the two teens lived their lives – the cautious, responsible Ariel Cane who took on the role of adult-caretaker in her family to such a degree that it bordered on concerning, and the reckless 17-year-old racing driver Max Verstappen who seemed to have absolutely no fear or restraint for the risks he was taking – provided a rather interesting contrast.

GP couldn't help but compare them in his mind, and it was striking how differently they approached life despite both having to deal with burdens beyond their years.

The more he thought about it, the more he couldn't shake the image of the two of them. They were both 17, yet they seemed a whole world apart.

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Busy Bees

Pairing: Eddie Diaz x Reader

Word count: 3.7k

Notes: If I extended my closed requests deadline would you guys be mad 💀💀💀

P.S I’m dying my hair soon I’m so excited I could cry

P.P.S I miss my italics but they take so long to do

“Ohhh my god these were the best brownies I’ve ever tasted in my entire life” Buck moans exaggeratedly as he lets his arm hang from the table. 

You’re just coming up from the bathroom as Chimney is finishing off the last one.

“Hey!! Did you even save me one??” You point at the empty pan and they all look at each other 

“Ummmm” Buck starts looking around through the pile of baked goods as you tap your foot. You cross your arms over your chest and he holds his hand up. 

“It’s fine, it’s fine!! Look!” He holds up a small pan, more of a personal one, and takes the plastic off 

“See? Made by the same person! Therefore equally as delicious” he hands it off to you and you stick your tongue out at him before accepting it. 

“Alright… I guess you can live… for now” You give him a little I’m watching you gesture and go to pop it in the toaster oven. 

“Hey, Buck? You have that brownie you wanted to give me earlier?” Eddie comes up the stairs next and Buck looks over at you with wide eyes. You roll your eyes and sigh, waving your fork at Eddie. 

“You wanna share with me? It’s definitely enough for two. Never trust Buck with brownies” You pull it from the oven and he shrugs, grabbing a fork from the drawer and following you to the table. 

“Don’t mind if I do” 

A couple of hours later, Buck is lying on top of the engine… and Ravi is trying to keep Hen from jumping off the balcony to land on the truck. 

“Buck! Get down from there!” Athena had brought you all back to the station to figure out what the hell had happened. You jump up and down trying to reach for him like it’s going to work at all. 

“Come on Buck! Here Bucky Bucky! I have more brownies!” You try to convince him to come down but he’s not budging. 

“What are we going to do” you groan as you lean against the truck and Eddie shrugs as he walks over. 

“Honestly we should probably just let Athena handle this…” he wipes the sweat from his brow and you stop, putting your hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey? Are you okay??” 

You stand next to him, your hand on his arm. You’d started to get hot and the buttons on your work shirt were starting to come undone easier and easier. The top of your breasts are exposed to the air, just try to keep yourself cool as best you can.

Eddie's eyes flicker down to your chest, and he can't help but let out a soft growl. His body is begging for some strange release, and you’re the only one who can provide it. He swallows thickly, trying to regain control. 

"I'm... I'm fine, Y/N. Just a bit... warm."

He can't meet your gaze, instead, his eyes dart around the room, searching for something, anything, to distract him from the heat building up between his legs. His hand shakily reaches up to brush a strand of hair off your forehead, his fingers lingering on your skin for a moment longer than necessary.

You feel a familiar jolt of electricity and bite your lip, he still can’t really look at you, even if he’s trying, you can feel the shakiness in his hands and that gets your attention for a moment. 

“Eddie, you’re really burning up, maybe we should go sit down…”

He shifts his weight, trying to get more comfortable, but his hard cock is not making it easy. He can't help but let his eyes linger on your chest again. His mind is racing with the idea of tearing off your top, burying his face between your breasts, and feeling your nipples harden under his tongue.

Yeah because that was so normal… okay well- hear him out. 

“Uh-“ He clears his throat, trying to regain control, but his voice comes out a bit huskier than usual.

“M-maybe just some fresh air? Let’s step outside” 

“Of course”

You smile worriedly, helping him outside. You lead him over to the side of the station, letting him rest against the cool brick wall. He closes his eyes for a moment, breathing calmly.

Something about the way he does that, the way his chest expands slowly. He’s unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt and you can see his hot, glowy, skin peeking through. You wet your lips slowly, wanting to just jump him right there. 

Hold on a second. What? 

“C-Can I get you anything?” You fan yourself a bit, maybe being outside is even worse, despite being in the shade with a nice breeze blowing 

Eddie nods, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes for a moment, trying to get a grip on his racing thoughts.

“Some water I guess?”

He opens his eyes, his gaze meeting yours once more, and he can't help but notice how your breasts rise and fall with each breath, staring at you the same way you had been with him earlier. His cock throbs, and he shifts again, trying to alleviate the pressure. 

He swallows hard, his voice still a bit hoarse

“And maybe... maybe you could stay close. Just in case”

“Of course, Eddie. I’m here for you, okay? I’ll be right back!” 

“Okayyy… water… water” You bend down to look through the fridge for Eddie’s metal bottle and huff out a breath. It was starting to get hot, you shifted a little, just to get any kind of relief from the ocean that your panties had turned into and it wasn’t working in the least. 

You grab the bottle and spin on your heel to go back to him and completely collide with the table in front of you. 

“Ow! Fuck that-“ 

You freeze for a second… staring at the rounded edge. Your heart pounds in your chest as you look around slowly, you know there’s not a camera that can reach this corner… and no one’s around.

You set the bottle down gingerly, just… just a little relief. Anything to distract you from the way your body is aching for a release. You look around one more time before you step closer to the table and lean over it a little, the second you feel your pussy come into contact with the hard, smooth surface it’s over. Your eyes roll back as you grind against the table, gasping softly and letting your head fall forward. 

“O-oh my god” You whisper, your body shaking as you grind faster, trying not to make any noise. You pull the collar of your shirt down more, letting the cool air hit your chest as you lean over the table more and roll your hips. 

“Hey? Y/N? I’m sorry I got wo-“

Eddie freezes in his spot and stares at your exposed chest, gulping quietly. His cock twitches at your sweet sun-kissed skin and no tan lines. You look down at him and that’s when you notice how hard he is. It’s straining against his pants and you can see the way he keeps shifting, like he’s trying to put pressure on it. 

You’ve been caught, completely caught and there’s no way around it. Your cheeks burn and no matter what you do, you can’t stop your hips from moving against the table. His eyes lock with yours, you can see the deep primal desires in his blown pupils… and you know you look exactly the same. 

“I think- I think something is wrong,” You say quietly and he blinks slowly. 

“Oh? You think?” 

You don’t even have the time to sass back at him before he’s lunging for you and knocking you both down to the floor. He puts his hand behind your head before it collides with the title beneath you and presses his body down against you. 

“Jesus fucki-“ 

His lips smash into yours and you greedily yank him down closer, moaning as his tongue tangles with yours. His hips grind fast circles into yours and you wrap your legs around his waist, pushing him harder against you. 

Damn, are you both glad Bobby runs a tight ship and Buck has just mopped the floors. 

“Let me take you home, please fuck l-let me take you h-home” He begs, biting at your neck and kissing the bruises he leaves. 

“Let’s go” You nod fast, letting your hands run through his hair and tugging it back. He groans frustratedly as he keeps grinding on you, you giggle at the obvious tent in his pants and reach down between you two and tease the tip with your fingers. 

“D-don’t do that!” He slaps at your hand, his head falling against your shoulder as he whimpers into your shoulder. Your mouth drops as you feel the wetness in your hand, his sticky cum between your fingertips. 

“Still think it’s funny?” He takes your hand and smirks as he puts it up to your lips. You wrap your pouty lips around your fingers and suck them clean, groaning quietly as you taste him. He thoroughly enjoys watching you do that, nearly melting again as he ruts his hips into yours. Even though he’d just come, he’s still hard as a rock… and maybe that’s not so much of an issue right now. 

“Come on” 

He pulls you off the floor with him and down the stairs, he’s moving so fast you have to practically jog to keep up with him. He goes to his locker and grabs his wallet and keys before pulling you out to his truck. He lifts your hips practically tossing you into the cab and gets in. 

You pounce on him as soon as he shuts the door and pin him to it, kissing him breathless and tearing open his shirt. The buttons go flying and you stop for a second 

“I’ll get you a new one” 

He snorts and puts his hands on your hips, squeezing them 

“You really think I give a fuck?” 

“I don’t think we’re gonna make it” You pant as you start to pull off your shirt and he smirks.

“I have an idea” He helps you take it off, putting his hands on your tits immediately and squeezing them in his hands, you unhook your bra and grin sweetly when his jaw drops slowly. 

“Your idea?” You purr playfully and he rubs his thumbs over your nipples, watching them pebble 

“Suck my cock while I’m driving,” He says rather bluntly, all of his attention on the dark little nubs in front of him, the carnal urge to suck on them sending jolts of pleasure straight down to his rock-hard cock. 

“I think that’s the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me” You whisper, your eyes wide and your mouth watering. 

“Oh baby” He chuckles darkly “I haven’t even gotten started” 

He starts the truck and you finally unzip his pants, freeing his erection 

“Ho-ly shit” You mutter and Eddie grins, taking your hand and wrapping it around his weeping cock. You stroke it slowly, your fingers not even meeting as you ogle it, his precum dripping down your fingers. 

 You keep stroking, feeling how he responds to your touch, his head lays against the headrest as he starts up the truck, the deep rumble of the engine causes your toes to curl and you gasp a little feeling it deep in your core. 

Oh, something is totally off. 

You look at him, his long neck exposed to you and he looks at you for a second his eyes are half-lidded as he reaches out, cupping the back of your head and pushing you down gently. 

“Open up for me baby” He guides your face to his cock and you eagerly wrap your lips around him, tasting him and rolling your eyes back.

“Fuuuck” He sighs, running his hand over your hair as your tongue traces his cock. He thrusts a little now his toes curling when he hears your little choking noise. 

“Relax your throat” You feel him start to speed up and you’re absolutely sure he’s over the speed limit as his hand traces down your side and moves between your legs. You feel his fingers sink into you slowly and you groan around his cock, moving your hips on his fingers and fucking yourself slowly as you bob your head up and down. 

“I’ve been so selfish, this is probably affecting you just as badly” he pulls you off of him by your hair and smiles deviously at your blissed-out face, pecking your lips. 

“Take off your pants pretty girl, wanna see how wet you are”

You sit up, eagerly sliding your pants down and opening your legs for him. The sensual smell of your arousal fills his lungs as he breathes deeply. He reaches over and strokes your thigh, making a whimpering noise as he looks at the wetness covering your panties completely. He rubs his thumb over the front and you moan sweetly, melting at his touch. 

He keeps one hand on you and the other in a death grip on the wheel, his fingers push your panties to the side, inserting two fingers into your wetness. He pumps them in and out, his thumb rubbing your clit in sync with his fingers.

You melt against the door, and this entire situation definitely isn’t safe but neither of you care as Eddie screeches to a halt in front of his garage. He rips off his seatbelt and gets on his knees, lifting your hips up to his mouth and sucking your clit into his mouth. 

He adds a third finger now, stretching you even more, his tongue never leaving your clit as he spells his name between your legs like he owns you. He wants you to come apart, to lose yourself in the pleasure he's giving you. 

Your back arches off the seat as you fuck yourself against his mouth desperately 

“F-faster, your tongue, please” You gasp out, stuttering over your sentence and he looks up at you, his eyes locking with yours as he bites your clit. You jolt and cry out his name, tugging at his hair before his tongue speeds up. He pulls your hips even closer as you try to get away from him and slaps your thigh. 

“Stay still” He growls and you whimper, closing your legs around his head as your hips roll against his mouth. You can see the way he’s got one knee on the floor so he can grind his cock into the seat. You roll your eyes back and shut them as you cum on his face, spreading your legs wide as his fingers work your body. 

“Eddie! Oh god- fuck yes oh my god” You babble as he keeps sucking at your clit until he’s satisfied that you are. You weakly try to shove his head away and he finally pulls away, kisses your mound, and nuzzling his nose against your sensitive clit 

“Should’ve drowned me” He mumbles, kissing your folds and you rub his hair gently, mussing it up. 

“I’ve never actually done that before” You shrug and he looks up quickly 

“You’ve never what??” 

Your cheeks flush and you shrug, “I mean. It’s just never really happened for me you know? Like sure I’d like to know what it’s like but-“

“That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard” He shakes his head as he sits up, both of your bodies are still burning but at least you can think a little now. 

“Oh shut up” You throw his shirt at him and he catches it. You squeak when he grabs your wrist and yanks you to him. 

“I think by now we know what we gotta do,” He says as he starts putting it on you, you look up at him as he puts your arms through and starts to button it back up as best he can 

“Are you okay with that?” He stops, looking into your eyes and you smirk 

“It’s a little late to ask you know”

“Oh teehee” he slaps your thigh and you giggle, putting on your boots. 

“This is all you’re going to get me in” You look at him as he pulls his pants back up and leaves them unbuttoned and grabs his spare tank top from the back, putting that on too. He doesn’t want to give his older neighbors a heart attack. 

“That’s perfectly fine. Makes it easier to take off” 

He gets out of the truck and comes around to your side, opening the door for you. You hop out and take his hand, yanking him down to your height and connecting your lips 

He snickers against your mouth, his hands going to your waist as he guides you backward all the way to the front door, even lifting you up the step so you don’t have to part. Your fingers stay tangled in his luscious locks as he fumbles with the door for a second before it swings open 

As soon as you’re both inside he kicks the door shut and it’s your turn to guide him. You push him down on the sofa and grin as you straddle him and start to yank his clothes off, kissing him passionately as you go 

He falls back onto the sofa, his eyes never leaving yours as you start to strip him. He helps you, pulling off his shirt and pouting when you get up to tug off his pants, revealing his rock-hard cock once again. He can't help but let out a low, needy groan as you finish undressing him. He's eager to get to you, to feel your naked skin against his. 

He reaches for you again, pulling you onto his lap, his hands gripping your ass as he starts to kiss your neck, nibbling and sucking on your skin, leaving hickeys in his wake.

He lifts you up, positioning you over his cock. He looks into your eyes, they mirror the heated desperation in his own as he slowly pushes into you.

He groans as he feels your tight heat enveloping him, his hands gripping your hips as he starts to thrust, this is what he’s been dreaming about all afternoon and you’re just as good as he always knew you would be

His voice is thick with lust as you both moan together deeply “Fuck you feel so damn good” He pants, feeling the primal urge to pound your pussy and you want it just as bad, you put your hands over his as he squeezes your hips tighter. 

“H-harder? Please?” You say it so deliciously sweet, giving him a pretty little pout and wetting your lashes that he can’t help but give you exactly what you want 

Eddie's thrusts grow more aggressive, bouncing you on his cock faster. He can't get enough of the way you feel around him, the way you moan, and the way your body moves against his. He leans back, pulling you down for a deep, hungry kiss as he continues to thrust up into you.

He breaks the kiss, his voice thick with lust

“Fuck, you're so tight. I can't get enough of you”

He reaches up, pinching your nipples as he thrusts, his hips slamming into you, his cock hitting your g-spot with each thrust. 

You slap your hands on his chest, curling your nails into it as you let your head fall forward. 

“That’s it baby oh my g-god that’s it” you sob praises, as sweat drips down both your brows. 

His thrusts become more urgent, more desperate as he loses himself in the rhythm, his cock sliding in and out of you with a wet, slapping sound. 

“I-I’m gonna c-cum, fuck Eddie!”

He reaches his hand down, rubbing your clit in fast circles and you squirt for the first time in your life, your juices splashing over his pelvis and soaking the couch beneath you two.  

He moans loudly, feeling your tight pussy clenching around him as you come. It's enough to send him over the edge. He thrusts one last time, burying himself deep inside you, and lets out a loud groan as he comes, filling you with his hot cum. 

You collapse on his chest, panting heavily and letting your body rest against his. He lets his arms fall to the sides, panting just as harshly. 

“That was fucking amazing” He giddily covers his face with his hands, shaking his head “Jesus Christ that was the best I’ve ever had” 

You giggle, completely agreeing with him as you adjust yourself on his cock, making sure he stays inside you. 

“I can’t believe you seriously made me do that” 

“Was there any doubt I wouldn’t?” He scoffs, bringing his hands up to cup your sweet face 

“And that was just the first time…as soon as we can move we’re going into my bedroom and-“ 

“Oh my god” You stop, remembering just where you are “Oh god Eddie!! Your couch!” 

He blinks and then squeezes your cheeks together. 

“I just made you squirt all over me… and you think I’m worried about my couch?” 

“I can buy you a new one!! I promise I’ll-“

Eddie covers your mouth, smirking when he feels your pussy clench around him lightly. 

“All I want to hear from you is “Yes Daddy” you understand me?” He uncovers your mouth and you gape slightly before nodding slowly 

“Y-yes Daddy.” 

“Good girl. Now, you and I will go couch shopping whenever you’d like” He runs his thumb over your lip  “You will not be paying for it…” 

Before you can even whine in protest his hand comes down on your ass and you yelp. 

“Hey!! That was-“ His fingers wrap around your throat and he sighs 

“And here I thought you could take direction. May I finish my train of thought?” 

He can feel you gulp, which just makes him grin widely, deviously 

“Yes Daddy” you mumble and he gives you a little pat on the cheek 

“Anyway. You can pick any damn couch you want… because if you think for one minute I’m ever letting you out of my sight again and that you’re not officially mine?” He nuzzles your nose 

“I didn’t fuck you nearly as hard as I should have” 

[slut4megantheestallion]

Being in a relationship with Francis Mosses 🥛

Francis mosses x black! Reader

●Sfw:

● Francis is a very quiet man he's usually very tired and doesn't really like his job being a milkman. He never really had too many thoughts on love or being in a relationship, but he was very surprised he ended up being with you.

● Francis first saw you when you were moving into the apartment and lived on the same floor as him, he usually doesn't really care for people moving in into the building, but something about you made him feel something he hasn't in a very long time.

● He would deliver milk to you very early just to see your beautiful face. Whenever he would look at you, he would get butterflies. You were such a nice welcoming lady.

● He usually isn't talkative with his customers when he's delivering milk, this man hates his job so much to even interact with anyone, but when it comes to you he would start a little small talk here and there.

● When you first came here, you were very aware of doppelganger roaming somewhere around the building. You didn't really make any friends with anyone in the building until you met francis, he would always deliver your milk on time, you felt bad for the man he barely got any sleep, but you couldn't help how handsome he looks even though he looks depressed.

● He made little chit-chat with you from time to time, but you wanted more than that. You'd always distract him so you could talk to him, but he was always busy, but you finally got the courage to ask him to go out for some coffee.

●You were sitting all alone in your apartment, bored, put off your mind, waiting for the cookies in the oven to get ready. You didn't really make friends in the building. You haven't been in a relationship so long ever since you moved here.

●But you couldn't help but think of francis, he was such a nice man, you couldn't help but have feelings for the handsome milkman, you really wanted to ask him out , but he never really got the hint, you'd try to keep the conversations longer, but he's always so busy. You huffed in silence, hearing the clock ticking to past time.

● You heard a knock on the door, which changed your mood as you got up. "MILK DELIVERY!" francis said from the other side of the door, making your bored expression turned to happy one as you dusted yourself off, fixing your hair as you walked towards the door. "Coming!" Y/n said as she made the way towards the door as you unlocked it seeing francis in usual tired state, crisp white uniform, and his hat.

● "I'm sorry for the delay, y/n work has been a bit hectic lately, I've been so busy all day giving milk to other cust-" Francis said in his smooth, deep, rich voice making you melt, as you cut him off.

●"Oh, it's quite alright, francis. Don't push yourself too hard." Y/n smiled at him as he gave you a little smile as he hands you the crate of milk.

●"Yeah, I guess you're right. I haven't been getting enough sleep lately, I've been taking a lot of shifts lately, and I've been covering for a lot of people at work." Francis said as he yawned tiredly as he blinked at you slowly.

●"Well, I gotta get back to work. I'll see you later." Francis said as he was about to walk away. "Wait! Francis." Y/n shouted as francis stopped in his tracks, turning to you confusingly, which he looked so adorable.

●" I was maybe hoping that you and I could grab some coffee some time." Y/n said, waiting for his response.

●"Yeah, sure." He smiled at you as he turned away as he walked away. You closed the door and started jumping in victory that he said yes.

● You and francis started getting very close with each other ever since the coffee date, and ended up being an official couple, everyone in the building knew about your relationship with Francis, you didn't care you really liked him.

● Surprisingly, francis is good at cooking and baking. He usually always helps you around the kitchen. He cooks for you all the time. When you come back from work, he's such a gentleman.

● Francis isn't really the talkative type to anyone. He doesn't really trust anyone, but with you, he feels safe telling you things, You hear him rant about hating being a milkman and how tired he's getting of it.

● This man is very affectionate he would hug you, kiss you mostly your lips, and would bring you flowers every single day.

● When francis comes back from work, you will take care of him. He usually tells you not to worry, but you end up taking care of him, Francis never really had someone take care of him he was always looking out for himself and always did stuff alone.

● He falls asleep a lot. This man is very sleep deprived. He's the type to fall asleep while watching a movie. You try to wake him, but he's a very deep sleeper, He needs 2- 8 hours of sleep.

● Francis never had time to be in a relationship, mostly because he believed love was dead since his last relationship didn't go too well.

● When he started dating you, he finally felt what being accepted is like, and he's very great full that you're in his life.

● Since you're in his life, he seems happier and gets his life to turn around.

● He loves to listen to you. It may seem like he's not listening, but he is. He likes listening to you when he's bored. He's very amuse when you're talking and listening to you, yap.

● He had very beautiful slender hands, and you would kiss it. You'd often kiss his hands or cheek to show him that you love him. Francis loves you dearly and wanted to marry you someday.

●NSFW:

● This man is a whimper and a whiner, when your having sex with him, he's very vocal about it, full-on groaning, grunting, when you're sucking him off.

● Gentle Dom and Sub

● he loves marking you, not like an owing type he respects you as an individual, and he loves how.

● He loves your lips. He loves it when your lips are coated with his cum when you suck him off.

● Very big on praising, you get off when he praises you, he treats you like a goddess, he's always telling her good you're doing and how you make him feel, etc.

● He loves massaging your nipples. Even when you're not having sex at all, he'll still play with your boobs from time to time, but during sex he's mostly sucking and nibbling.

● This man is very skilled with his mouth. When he eats you out(holy fuck) he can eat you for hours, like he devours that shit and always make you cum every single time, he mutters dirty praises throught it and would hum and kiss it and let's out a deep moan.

● Surprisingly, this man has a very high sex drive and can be able to keep up, he's really down to whatever.

● His favorite positions will be very simple and not too hard-core. He mostly likes missonary, doggystyle, cowgirl, he loves it when you ride him, etc, etc,

● He loves to intertwine his hands together during sex just so you're comfortable.

● most definitely has a mommy kink.

● He isn't big on public sex he likes having sex with you, an area that's private in his apartment like the couch or bed.

● kitchen sex 😋

● When sex is over, he's very tired and can usually last like 2 rounds. He's very affectionate he would cuddle with you, telling him he loves you, and you're so perfect you are. He would get you some water or food.

● He doesn't particularly jack off, I mean, why do that when he has you.

[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

I WAS GONE FOR FIVE FUCKIN' MINUTES. ( HOTD x READER )

AUTHOR NOTE! This is short little drabble / thing cause I have the time during my finals. Thanks for all the love. <3 pairing: Aemond Targaryen x GF! Reader prompt : A couple bonding moment ends with burnt cookies. word count: 500+ words

It was Helaena who had suggested bonding time. You and Aemond were a little distant. Not that it was a bad thing. You had your college classes and he was attempting to break into his family's company, attempting to make a name for himself. It was natural and to be expected. You would still see each other and interact, just not have too much 'couple time'.

So, with both of your weekend's cleared. Baking was going to be the way to 'bond'. It would be like the cute little scene from those romance movies. You'd smear frosting onto each other and kiss. It would cute, in theory. Of course, it was never going to be like that. He was a Targaryen. They did not do 'easy' or 'drama free'.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. You left him unattended for five minutes. You left him unattended for five fucking minutes. Five minutes. In the course of five minutes Aemond had managed to ruin the cookies you were baking. You did not know what he did or touched, but they were now as black as coal and on fire. Pressing down on the handle of the fire extinguisher, you narrow your eyes hard, the kitchen filling with smoke as the fire gets put out. 

Coughing softly at the stench of smoke in the air, you put the empty fire extinguisher onto the countertop, opening the window up for fresh air. Placing your hands on your hips, you slowly turn around to look at him, lips curled into a displeased line. There was an obvious guilty expression on his face, looking like a puppy who had just been caught chewing on a piece of furniture. A part of you wanted to scold him. Yet another part of you was worried about how damaged the oven was from whatever he had done.

“I go pee for five minutes.” You start, tapping your foot on the floor. 

“To be fair, I didn’t technically touch the oven⎯”

“No, no, no, nope,” You shake your head, “Nope, we are not doing that. No excuses.” 

“I love you.” He weakly smiles, attempting to smooth things over. 

Running your fingers through your messy hair, you shake your head in disapproval, the charred remains of the cookies sputtering out in its last attempt of life. Snatching the fire extinguisher off the counter in the blink of an eye, you press the fire extinguisher handle one last time, the burnt cookies sizzling out. A soft scowl tugging at your lips. This was not the ‘cute couple bonding’ moment you had envisioned. You were supposed to smear frosting on each other’s cheeks and laugh, not murder the remains of cookies with a fire extinguisher. 

“You messed with the oven.” You mutter, it comes out more as a statement than a question. 

“I thought I pressed the little light button, I didn’t know that it would turn up the heat.” He weakly rubs the back of his neck, “The little symbols are hard to see from a distance.” 

“Mm-hm, wonderful.” 

“Don’t be mad.” He pleas, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“I am not mad, just disappointed that this is what our night has come to.” You sigh, putting the fire extinguisher down. 

Staring at the charred crime scene sprawled out on the oven and countertop, you shake your head in pure disappointment, a soft pout on your lips. It was supposed to be cute. Not like this. Crossing your arms over your chest, you let out a pouty sigh, wanting to pout and sulk a little longer. Feeling him press gentle kisses on your neck and forehead, he softly sways you in place, like you're a grumpy cat. 

“Come on, let’s go order some take out. We’ll do those weird face masks that you have. Yeah?”

“Yeah..” You sigh, letting him drag you away from the kitchen.

---

[trippinsorrows]

ltye: the announcement

authors: inspired by several asks and convos with ya'll about these dream children of roman and solana. 😭

warnings: none

words: 2.3k

*photos found on twitter*

tags: @sayyestoheav3nn @cyberdejos2 @lov3rla03 @annfg8 @jayjayem1999

@that-one-anxious-mango @fearlesschimera @wwecrazed2010

“Our house used to be quiet, ya know.”

Solana rolls her eyes as she sets the timer on the oven for the homemade chocolate chip cookies she’s had a craving for all morning. Just one of the three trays she’ll have baked when all is said and done.

Her family has a big appetite. Especially the boys.

Wiping her hands on her apron, she pokes a little fun, “that was before the children, my love.”

“And the dogs,” he scoffs, mind briefly wandering to Dulce. Two years later, he still finds himself waiting for her to walk her lazy self into his office and plop down in her bed for a nap or to roll onto her back for a stomach rub. Her passing is still something that gets to him from time to time.

Solana's giggles pull him from his brief recollection as she removes said apron and walks over to him. Hands on her chest, she looks up, asking, “you ready?”

Roman sighs. Not necessarily. He knows this is about to be a shitshow, but it's also something they can’t put off any longer. “Let’s get this shit over with.” He takes her hand in his, walking them towards the living room, stopping near the staircase. “Kids! Family meeting!” As expected, a chorus of protests sound from up the stairs. Another heavy sigh, followed by a much firmer, “now!” 

An almost immediate wind of silence as husband and wife journey into the living room, standing near the 80inch flat screen TV. Roman isn’t surprised to find that Aroha is the first to arrive, skipping into the living room wearing that ballerina costume she seems borderline obsessed with. Tutu and all. Also, not surprising, is the fact that Coco has tagged along with her, settling into the bed in the living room. 

“Look, mommy! I’m a princess!” Aroha spins around, making Roman crack a smile. While her infatuation with wanting to wear costumes all the time can be a challenge, especially when it’s time for school and she has to wear her uniform, her softness reminds him a lot of Leya and Solana. She’s taken after their personalities.

“You’re a beautiful princess, mija.” Solana compliments, accepting the hug and pressing a kiss to her cheek. They share a short conversation in Spanish before she’s over by him, reaching to be picked up. He easily obliges, smile widening when she kisses his cheek and lays her head on his shoulder.

Lina and Leya are next to arrive. Lina is clearly gym bound, given her matching workout set that Roman is about to comment on when she asks, “daddy, can I use the big gym tonight? I need to lift.”

The big gym would be the separate mother-in-law suite that Roman had turned into a gym when Lina and Tama started expressing increasing interest in fitness and working out. So much so that Roman found his initial gym that was built in the main building no longer serving its purpose.

Thus, the renovation. And again, having seen what Lina wears to train from time to time, he’d rather her only see their property and nothing beyond it. 

“Sure.” It’s an easy, agreeable thing.

Lina fist pumps the air. Roman then notices that Leya has come with her sketchbook tucked under her arm. He watches how she sits on the sofa, legs crossed before she pulls it out to continue whatever her latest creation is.

So much like Solana. 

Tamasā, Tama, is the next to come down the steps, a huge jump allowing him to bypass the last three. He directs his attention to Roman, “dad, can Lina and I use—”

“Already asked him,” she cuts him off, texting away on her phone that her eyes are glued to. Roman scoffs a bit. She better not be talking to that grown man looking lil boy. “You’re late. As always.”

Tama sucks his teeth, muttering, “man, whatever.” He walks over to Solana, giving her a hug that he has to lean over for. At freshly turned 15, he’s almost the same height as his dad. “Hey, mama.”

“Hi, baby.” She kisses his cheek as their oldest son falls down on the other sofa, also pulling out his phone.

“Boys!” Solana calls, giving Roman that ‘of course, they’re the last to come’ look. It’s not surprising. Roman is certain them boys have ADHD or something. They’re always on the move. “Come on!”

“Mom!” Koa calls down with an almost whine. “I’m about to beat the wizard!”

Roman walks over, still holding his baby girl and easily calls up the steps, “Imma beat you, that wizard, and your brother if ya’ll don’t get down here now.”

The Tribal Chief already knows his second set of twins are gaming together, from their separate rooms, using that online play feature shit. There’s grumbled protests and stomping as the 10 year olds finally make their appearance, pouting and scowling. 

“Fix your faces,” Roman warns as they begrudgingly walk into the living room and opt to sit on the floor. He’s about to say something when they pull out those handheld gaming systems, but Solana beats him to it.

She speaks in Spanish, the boys responding back in Spanish before putting the devices on the floor next to them. 

With everyone settled, Roman carries Aroha over to the sofa so she can sit next to Leya. Leya offers a warm smile to her little sister, sharing the art with her. Even with the age difference, they’re close. Roman gets it. The two of them are so much like Solana, having taken so much after her. In all of the good ways.

“Wait.” Tama suddenly sits up, excitement painting his face. “Is this about my car?” He smiles, and Roman almost feels like he’s looking at himself many years ago. Like the girls have taken after Solana, Tama has definitely taken after him in looks. The spitting image of himself when he was a teenager. “Am I getting—”

“I’m not getting you an Aston Martin,” Roman shuts that down real fast, unsurprised when his son scowls. Again, his twin.

“But Lina and Leya—”

“Didn’t crash a car before they even got their damn license,” he shoots back, easily. Tama can be….distracted at times, hence him crashing Roman’s Bugatti when learning how to drive. One of Roman’s favorite cars. 

Aroha then decides to ask in the sweetest voice. “Daddy, can I get a pony?”

“No, baby, you cannot get a pony.” Animals. His youngest is also on this animal fixation as of recent. She almost threw a fit just the other day when he refused to stop for the ‘little baby’ she saw on the side of the road when he was bringing her to gymnastics practice.

Possum. 

The little baby was a fucking possum.

Of course, his younger sons seem to see an opportunity to get their request in since Aroha’s was denied. With perfect synchronization, they start off with their application.  “Can we get a—”

But, Roman is already three steps ahead. “I’m not getting ya’ll no damn lizards.”

Koa and Kai have wanted reptiles for a while. And they’re gonna keep wanting them, at least until they’re grown and out of the house. Dogs, Roman can get with. Anything else is a hell no. Especially some damn lizards. 

Kai, the more crafty of the two, is the one to object. “But, dad, they’re bearded dragons!”

“Dragons?!” Aroha’s gaze shifts into horror as she buries herself into Leya’s side. “I don’t like dragons.”

“Baby, dragons aren’t real,” Solana comforts, offering a warm smile. 

“Would ya’ll stop scaring your sister?” Roman pinches the bridge of his nose. This is going exactly as he expected, except they haven’t even dropped the news onto them yet. “Now look, this meeting isn’t about any of ya’ll getting anything. You get things all the time anyway. That’s why the house looks the way it does.”

Roman has a low tolerance for most things. Granted, there’s always an exception for his kids, even on days like this where they are clearly on one. So while he has denied the requests thus far, it’s more often than not he has packages arriving daily. Either things the kids have suckered out of him, things Lina and Leya have ordered, Solana even. Not to mention Koa and Kai who somehow have a damn Amazon account of their own.

He’s still trying to figure that out, though something tells him Tama had something to do with it. 

But as a result of the constant arrivals and items being purchased, the house being filled with stuff, it’s always clean. Solana likes keeping a tidy home, and the kids are good with their chores. Usually. But still, Kai and Koa practically have a gaming and tech set-up in their rooms that could make even the Geek Squad jealous.

Tama has every pair of Jordan’s to ever exist. Lina too. Each having their own rooms just for their shoes.

Leya’s room is a damn art gallery with her often painting and designing her walls every couple weeks. 

And Aroha’s bedroom is more or less a playroom. The girl has dolls everywhere. 

The kids are all spoiled rotten, but they’re still respectful. And that’s all Roman cares about.

“Your dad and I—Well, we have something to share with you all.”

At that, the younger kids have returned back to their previous headspace of receiving. “Are we going to Disney?!”

Yes, they are going to Disney. Roman willing to sacrifice his mental wellbeing for a few days to make the kids happy. It’s been a couple years since they last went, and they’ve been wanting to go, so Solana and him have been working on that behind the scenes. But, it’s a surprise, so he’s not about to confirm as such. 

“No. We’re not going to Disney.”

Lina chuckles, still texting on her phone as she jokes. “What then? Are you guys pregnant again or something?” At that, she looks up, sharing a small laugh with Leya and Tama. However, that laughter is quickly cut short when neither Solana nor Roman offer any sort of disagreement. 

Or deny it.

Lina’s jaw drops. “Wait…..” She looks over at her mom. “Mami? Is it true?” She speaks in Spanish, Roman not needing to speak the language to understand what’s being asked. She snaps her head to Leya who’s looking over at Roman. 

“Dad?”

A deep breath followed by a shared look with Solana who gives him the non-verbal go ahead. Time to rip the bandaid off.

Roman doesn’t hesitate or stutter as he announces, “your mom and I are having another baby.”

And thus it begins. In less than seconds after it leaves his mouth, the group erupts with various expressions of shock and borderline panic.

“How does this keep happening?”

“Why does this keep happening?”

“Where is it gonna sleep?”

“Can I go live with Aunt Naomi and Uncle Jimmy?”

“Is that all you and mama do?”

“Alexa, how do I get adopted?”

Roman lets them get it all out before his loud voice silences the room. “Alright, that’s enough.” Temporary silence. That’s all.

Koa crosses his arms over his body, scowling. “Where do these babies keep coming from?”

“The baby fairy!” Aroha answers with the happiest expression, like she’s just shared this great big secret with everyone that will make everything all better and solve world hunger. “The baby fairy puts lots and lots of babies in mommy’s tummy, and then they come out her vagina.”

That last portion makes all of the boys turn up their nose in disgust. Kai being the one to shout, “that’s nasty!”

“You’re nasty!” 

“Naw, mom and dad are the nasty ones to keep making all these kids.” Tama sucks his teeth, adding on almost desperately. “Aren’t ya’ll kind of old to keep doing this?”

Aroha jumps off the sofa, pouting and defending. “Daddy’s old, but he’s not that old! He’s baby santa old.”

Roman looks over at his wife with all of the confusion only to her covering her mouth and looking away, clearly trying to hide her smile.

“I’m not old,” he defends. 

Lina rolls her eyes. “Dad, come on. You get more gray in your beard every day.”

“Yeah, well, if ya’ll kids would stop stressing me out—”

“So then why’d you make more?” Tama mutters it to himself, but it’s still loud enough for his father to overhear. One sharp look from Roman making him cough awkwardly as he focuses on his latest kicks.

Solana clears her throat, redirecting all the attention onto herself. “I know—I know this is a lot to take in, and it’ll be an adjustment for everyone, but it’ll be fine.”

“I really think we should talk again about me, Leya, and Tama getting our own pl—”

“That’s not happening.” Roman shuts that shit down so fast, once again reiterating his main point every time this is brought up. “I’m not getting ya’ll a penthouse. This is your house. You’ll stay here.”

“With all these kids?” Lina pouts and gestures to the younger kids who are somehow now arguing over the existence of dragons and princesses. “This is torture in some countries.”

Leya smiles, asking gently, “how far along are you, mama?” 

Solana’s smile is soft as she answers, hand resting on her stomach. “6 weeks.”

Tama gives a smile as well, rubbing his hands together. “Bet it’s another boy.”

At that, the twins roll their eyes, Leya poking fun, “no way. Another girl.”

“Wanna bet?”

As the teens start placing wagers on the sex of the baby and the younger kids continue their passionate debate, Solana hugs her husband, eyes closing when he kisses the top of her head. His hand on her belly, content and pleased.

However, the timer on the oven going off seems to be the thing that breaks all conversation, Tama asking, "mama, you baking?"

Solana smiles, leaning into Roman's chest. "Chocolate chip--"

She can barely finish her statement as all of the kids, Coco too, are suddenly rushing out of the living room and into the kitchen, now arguing about who gets dibs on the first set.

"Oldest first!"

"No way! Guys first!"

"You guys always get first!"

"Cause you two always eat them all!"

"Mommy! Daddy!"

Solana giggles into Roman who's only sighing again, index and middle finger pressed against his temple.

"Maybe we should hear them out on the penthouse idea."

"Roman!"

[genderfluid-insomniac]

Macaque + Wukong after their S/O gets out of the shower since they would no longer smell like them

Sun Wukong

It was one of the nights where Sun was at your apartment and you had just come home from a long shift, looking forward to relaxing in your boyfriend's arms and eating some oven-baked pizza with little worry on your shoulders. The best Sunday night you could ask for you thought as you stepped out of the shower and wrapped the soft blue towel around yourself after you dried off. “Sun, where are you?” You called out and turned off the lights in the shower, hearing a rustle of fabrics in the distance near your bedrooms.

“In our bedroom-” You whipped your head towards his voice and headed to the bedroom. “What do you mean our bedroom?” He looked like a deer in headlights when you locked eyes with him, sitting on top of a mix of blankets and pillows and arranging them in a nest-like setting shape. If you looked closely enough you could see some articles of clothing that were owned by both you and him.

“Why are you nesting in my bed- wait why are you hoarding my used clothes?” He stammered for a couple of seconds and looked anywhere but at you, as he tried to lie his way out of explaining. “I- well- um…you don’t smell like me anymore.” Wukong’s voice got very quiet and blushed heavily, you noticed his tail stop swaying and coiled around his ankle (a habit you picked up on whenever he was anxious).

You walked towards him and pulled him down to sit next to you, cupping his face and smiling. “Hon, I’m not mad but why is it bad if I don’t smell like you anymore? Is it a demon thing or a being a celestial monkey thing?” Your lover bit his lip and nuzzled his face into your neck, adoring the way a low purr built up in his chest as you carded your fingers through his fur.

“It’s a both thing- maybe… I don’t know. This happens every time I find a mate, it happened with moonli- I mean Macaque. It helps me from becoming jealous.” Your eyes widened and hugged him closer, letting yourselves fall back onto the bed now more of a pile of blanket, and felt his tail now move to your waist. “Alright, you could’ve just told me. I know you might’ve been embarrassed but I don’t see any problem with it.” The smile on your face seemed to be contagious because Sun smiled widely in turn and got closer to you as a couple of blankets were pulled over you.

Six-Eared Macaque

It had been a total of around of 1 minute after you’d gotten home from a 14 hours shift when you fell through a shadow portal upon entering your shared apartment and landed right on your beloved’s lap, who immediately wrapped his arms around you and buried his face into your neck. Breathing deeply and letting out a few quiet growls, hugging you even tighter and not saying a word.

“Mac….you alright?” Your voice trailed off as you tried to turn to look at him and weren’t able to move. The shadow demon only grunted and mumbled something to you, letting you lose enough so you could turn around and put your bag down. “Can you tell me or do I have to guess?”

He leaned into your hands as you cupped your face and frowned, clearly upset by something but something told you he’d rather do charades to tell you than actually speak. “You s….” Macaque mumbled the rest of his sentence and rested his forehead against your chest. You softly laughed at his mood, rubbing your fingers on the outside of one of his six vibrant glowing ears comfortingly and humming a soothing melody.

A couple of seconds later, he let out a dramatic sigh and turned his head so you so could see and hear him better. “I’m moody because your scent doesn’t mirror mine anymore and it’s bothering me.” You’re both shocked and not surprised that was the reason he was moody because one hand he’s one of the most dramatic bitch you’ve ever met and he’s also very possessive of you (especially around other demons).

“Love, that’s alright. I have no problem and you shouldn’t be embarrassed about it.” Lifting up his face and touching your nose to his, the wispy chocolate hairs tickling your face and a pale gold iris adoringly staring back into yours. This demon monkey would be yours forever and no one could separate you both, you’ll never take for granted ever. “Wonderful, in that case, you’re not leaving my side for the rest of the night. Thanks, Name.”

His Cheshire grin was back and Macaque locked you in his embrace, tipping you back into your bed and curling every part of himself around you (he was also loudly purring but he’d deny it if you brought it up).

[0oolookitsme]

The Thigh Tattoo

Type - One Shot

Verse - Baker!Harry x Florist!Y/n

Word Count - 2.1k

Warnings - None! It's all smut!

A/N - Not super proud of this one -- probably my least favourite so far. But it's here, and I just hope you guys don't hate it as much as I do hahah <3

Kinks - Thigh Riding, Teasing.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

Please rb to share!

Y/n loved being a florist, she really did. But, some days were so busy and full of people rushing inside her shop to buy flowers, that it resulted with her standing on her feet for the whole day. It always ended with her feet pink and a bit swollen, causing her to climb up the stairs of her flat hissing and groaning. 

And, today was no different. She had texted Harry while unlocking her door, asking if he could come over to which he had replied by asking her to give him 15 minutes to wind up the bakery. 

In the meantime, she had turned on the geyser and took out the ingredients it'd take to make pasta. She didn't have it in herself to make an actual dinner, and she hadn't eaten that in a while anyways.

When Harry finally chimed in, she practically glued herself to him, hugging him for longer than normal. She suggested that while the water was heating up, they could make dinner and catch up with each other about their days.

As they chatted, Y/n didn't realize as the time passed them by. It'd often be like that with Harry – she could be doing anything, Harry just needed to start talking and she'd completely lose track of everything. It was like time would stop everytime she looked at him. And this time, it ended with Y/n jerking when she accidentally dropped the pasta too suddenly and the hot water splashed, slightly burning her hand. 

It was such a mild burn, that it soothed only a second after and the both of them couldn't help but laugh at her wild reaction. 

When she climbed down from the slab, the pain shooted through her feet again. She sent Harry to fill up the bathtub, telling him that she'd be there in a little as she shifted the pasta from the pan into a big bowl, the sputtering soup staining her april. Placing the bowl inside the oven, she cleaned up as fast as she could and ran to the bathroom. 

She slipped out of her clothes, and finally into the bathtub, where Harry had already settled himself in with his hair tied up in a man-bun. 

Y/n sighed as she dipped her toes in the bathtub, goosebumps rising on her body as the lukewarm water already started working its magic on her muscles. 

As she brought her other leg in, Harry spread his arms wide to make sure she didn't slip and hurt herself. He stayed put like that until she lowered and sat between his legs, her back immediately leaning back to rest on his chest. 

The bathtub wasn't huge, but they both managed to fit every time.

"This feels so good," she murmured, her eyes closing as she dropped her head back. Only after a deep inhale she looked up at him, her head on his right shoulder, just beside his jawline. She pressed a light kiss to his jaw that had a day-old stubble, "thank you for coming over."

"Of course," Harry smiled, kissing her temple. 

Closing her eyes again, she took a big yawn, feeling like she could sleep right there. A grin formed on her mouth when she felt Harry's chest rumble due to laughter behind her. 

"You cannot seem to stop yawning today," he chuckled, brushing her hair strands and weaving them somewhere among the rest of her hair that had been twisted into a bun. 

Y/n hummed in response. "You smell like you're a baked goodie and now I want one," she laughed, and only squeaked harder when Harry's hand slid on her belly, his fingers tickling the soft skin there. "Har-Harry stop, my hair will get wet!" She yelled on top of her laughter, chest heaving as she rose back up from where she was about to go below water in order to escape his hold. 

"I'll bring you some tomorrow," Harry spoke, smiling at her softly from above as spurts of laughter fell from her mouth.

After she'd calmed down, she felt less tired. Yes, she was still going to be out like a light the moment her head would hit the pillow, but now at least her head wasn't going to drop in her plate full of pasta while the snores left her mouth.

Deciding to stay in for a little more, she absentmindedly started tracing the tiger tattoo on Harry's thigh. The tip of her index finger grazed the skin where black ink was imprinted onto his skin forever, following the path it lead. 

Once she'd returned from where she had started, she brought her hand back to herself – tuning her head to look at what Harry was doing considering there wasn't any sound in the room.

He was already looking at her, his lips rolled in under his teeth. "Why did you stop?" He asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

Y/n only shrugged in response, getting up to rinse off the soap from her body because her stomach was starting to make louder and louder sounds as each minute passed. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of admitting that she was turned on already, so she pretended as if she hadn't caught up with him. 

Harry followed her out, his towel wrapped loosely around his hips. She had stopped to do her skincare and tossed the bottle of moisturiser at him. He caught it, and went behind to her to look into the mirror as he rubbed it in his skin. 

"I love your whole body," she mumbled, looking up at him while she dropped some serum on her cheeks. "But I think if it came down to favourites, I would choose your legs," she continued. 

It was always impossible to guess what she would say next – her mind ran a million miles per minute. And, she was unpredictable even for Harry, who knew her like the back of his hand in only a few months. "Why?" Harry chuckled, eyebrows starting to frown. 

"See! Even I don't know!" She exclaimed. "Maybe because they are so… toned? And sweet God, that tiger tattoo? It makes your thighs look mouth-watering," laughing she said, feeling good at the sight of his eyes darkening. 

She turned around then, placing her palms on his chest. "It has to be my favourite," she whispered, her hand lowering towards that tattoo. "The one that's here," her hand lingered over the spot.

"Really? Don't think you've ever shown that much interest in it before," Harry feigned being clueless, pushing his thigh towards her core, stopping just before he could brush against her. 

Y/n's skin was starting to feel tingly, excitement rushed through her. She could feel her arousal slipping past her vaginal-lips and when Harry didn't push his thigh into her, she felt disappointment sink inside her. 

So he wasn't going to be easy.

"Oh yeah? Then let me, right now." She said, searching for some kind of approval in his eyes. 

"Let you what?" 

She held her forehead for a second, before crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Let me ride that thigh." 

"Which one, hm?" Harry asked her, the tone of amusement gone from his voice. He was able to tell that she was getting impatient now, and who was he to delay things further? 

"The one with the tiger tattoo, please" she whispered, her eyes set on his lips. 

That's all Harry needed to hear before he smashed his lips onto hers. She tasted just like the strawberry lip-balm she had rubbed on her lips minutes prior. Licking her lips, he pushed his tongue through, his nose pushing against the side of her mouth as she pushed towards him. 

Her tongue kept licking into his mouth, her teeth grazing his tongue as she kept pressing into him. She had shifted her thigh in a manner that the muscle of his thigh brushed against her crotch everytime they moved.

"Desperate, hm?" Harry heaved, breaking the kiss and teasing her when she reached for his mouth with her eyes closed and opened them when she couldn't find them.

She punched her fist into his chest before pushing his head toward hers with her hand in the back of his neck. A grin played on both of their mouths as Harry pecked her upper lip. 

Y/n was the first to push her tongue in his mouth this time, her fingers tangled up in the hair strands as she started pushing him backwards, out of the bathroom. They kept walking until Harry's knees hit the foot of the bed. 

His hands slipped from her waist as he fell on the bed. Harry slid up on the bed until his bed rested against the headboard of the bed. Before he could ask her to come, she was already on the bed and moving towards him on her knees, the rest of her body remaining upright to maintain her balance. 

Harry removed his towel before she settled herself on his thigh. His cock was hard, but he asked Y/n not to focus on that right now. 

He placed his hands on her love handles, drawing her hips in and then sending them back. "Already so wet," Harry groaned as he felt his thigh get slick in just two slides of her pussy over it. 

Y/n's head was thrown back as her clit rubbed against the pulsed muscle of his thigh, her tits moving with each sway of her hips. "Oh fuck," she choked out when she felt him push his thigh further up.

She placed her hands on his shoulders as Harry moved one of his own and kneaded her left boob while sucking on the other one. He twisted her hardened nipple with his fingers before flicking it, causing a moan to leave her mouth.

Licking the bud with a flat tongue one last time, he moved to play with the other one. He looked up at her when she undid his bun and clutched his hair in a tight grip. He moaned against her skin, the vibration of it moving along the current in her body. 

Sweat started lining her skin as she kept rubbing on him, looking down to make sure she was still over the tiger tattoo. But the sight of the black ink covered in her arousal and the white strings that were still dragging along her pussy sent a different kind of rush through her. 

"You like that, don't you? My tattoo and my thigh covered so well in your arousal that it's starting to slip down on the mattress?" Harry asked her with a smirk on his face, the mess on his thigh making him harder. 

When her pace started breaking into arrhythmic drags, Harry gripped her hips with a tighter hold and weighed her down on his thigh, tightening his muscle. 

He moved her hips in sync and kept on moving his thigh. "Know you're close, c'mon," he mumbled, sitting up right to nip at her collarbone. 

The only sounds in the room were of Y/n's moans, Harry kissing her skin and the bed slightly creaking under her movements. The sound of her wet pussy rubbing over its own slick could almost be heard if it weren't for Harry's heavy breathing. 

"Fu- fuck, Harry-" Y/n stuttered, rubbing faster and whimpering over the burn of Harry's nip. He licked at it and then shifted his attention on her boobs again. 

She was starting to shake and whimper, and as Harry sucked on her breasts, she started to groan his name – her pull on his hair getting harder and harder. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck- I'm coming, Harry," she yelled, but not so loud that the people on the streets would be able to tell. 

"C'mon, come for me," Harry urged her on, holding her down with one of his hands as he left a mark close to her nipples. "Come all over this tiger tattoo," he told her and her nails dug into his shoulders as she wetness gushed out of her. 

She was gripping the hard muscle on his shoulders so hard that she knew that not only her nails were leaving their mark, but her palm was too. "O-Oh, my god- Harry, please-" she begged him as he kept rubbing her against him, running her throught her high.

Slowly and slowly, he decreased the pace until he finally stopped. Y/n was breathing heavily when she finally looked down at his thigh, only to find her arousal shining on the tattoo, and the bedsheet around drenched - whether in sweat or her juices, or perhaps, both. 

"God, I don't know if I love the tiger or your thigh more," she heaved, laughing breathily. 

Laughing, Harry helped her roll off of him and lay on the bed. "Let's call it the thigh tattoo for you," he said, grinning as he wiped the sweat off of the top of her upper lips. 

[vixen7243]

Wrong Chat 7

Simon "Ghost" X Johnny "Soap" X AFAB!Reader | TF141 X AFAB!Reader

Masterlist | Part 6 | Part 7

It had been a few days following since you'd seen any of the other guys, John had been regularly texting you checking on you and chatting. Kyle had called a few times doing the same, Johnny wasn't getting home quite on time much either but you assumed that was mostly because they must be getting ready to be leaving soon. Who you haven't really heard from was Simon, you texted him the other day and he didn't get back to you till a day and a half later with a short :

Tuesday 7:24 a.m Y/N: Hey Si🤗, will you be busy tomorrow? I was hoping we could go to that little tea shop, I need a restock. I'll even get us some lunch😋 Thursday 8:47p.m Simon💀🖤: Busy right now luv

Starring at the text you sighed, a whole day later he replied to your text, he's been quiet and where you thought at one time you two were getting close something felt off. You almost wanted to ask Johnny if he knew anything but you weren't sure how to bring it up.

Pushing up from the couch you went into the kitchen and pulled from the oven the brownie you had been baking, dinner was done a while ago but you were waiting for Johnny. He had promised you he would be home for dinner and you were getting slightly tired. Hearing the front door open and his familiar chuckle made you light up as you turned and stepped into the threshold to the living room freezing.

The sight before you felt like you were intruding, the gentle caress of Simon's fingers along Johnny's cheek before he knelt down taking his and Johnny's boots off. When he stood they shared a soft kiss before Simon put his mask back over his lips.

Turning on your heel you stood back in front of the brownie, hands shaking, heart pounding in your chest, the heated kiss between Kyle and Johnny a few days ago was so far different from the soft careful kiss between Simon and Johnny. "Bonnie, ye're still awake?"

You didn't miss the confusion in his tone, rather it stung your heart, he couldn't have forgotten his promise. "Yeah."

Turning to look over your shoulder you seen the way Johnny stepped from Simon, their hands unclasping. When Johnny got behind you, even though you could feel the warmth of his body against your back, his arms wrapping around your waist you felt a cold shiver run down your back. "Thought ye would be in bed by now bonnie, everything okay?"

Nodding your head you moved around him setting the brownie on the table yours and his plate dished up and waiting, "I'm going to bed now, I'm pretty tired." Taking the foil off the plates you tossed them before making your way for the stairs, "Enjoy, you can leave the dishes I'll do them in the morning." Avoiding looking at Simon you quickly went up the stairs and closed the door behind yourself. Tearing up you sniffled before grabbing one of your sweatshirts that you hadn't worn in a while before tucking in under the blankets pulling the hoodie up coiling into yourself. Hearing your phone ding you reached for it.

Big Bear🐻🥰: Hi baby, how was your day? Lil Cub🐻❤️: ok -urs? Big Bear🐻🥰: Baby? Lil Cub🐻❤️: ea? Big Bear🐻🥰: Sweat girl, what's wrong? don't say nothing. -Your texts are usually longer...more cheerful

Your heart ached, you wanted to tell John what you witnessed between Johnny and Simon and how you were feeling but you weren't sure how to say anything. You didn't want to be looked at like a fool.

Big Bear🐻🥰: Do I need to come over? Lil Cub🐻❤️: No, but could I come over tomorrow? Big Bear🐻🥰: Of course -You never have to ask that -I'll give you a key tomorrow Lil Cub🐻❤️: you don't have to do that Big Bear🐻🥰: I will, you're always welcome over, even when I'm not there baby -Now -Are you going to tell me what's wrong -Or will I need to wait till tomorrow to get it out of you? Lil Cub🐻❤️: I think I'll talk tomorrow -I don't know how to really talk about it right now Big Bear🐻🥰: Okay baby -Want me to pick you up tomorrow after work? Lil Cub🐻❤️: No, I'll drive over when you get off Big Bear🐻🥰: Let me know when you'll be off tomorrow and I'll meet you at my place Lil Cub🐻❤️: k, night my big bear🐻🥰❤️ Big Bear🐻🥰: Good night my little cub🐻❤️🫶

Putting your phone on the charger you curled back into the blankets sighing your chest feeling heavy. Closing your eyes when you heard the door open and the sound of both men walking in before the shuffling of clothes reached your ears.

"She sleeping?" Simon's gruff voice filled the room, you tried to even your breathing before you felt the blanket lift in front of you and behind you the bed dipping.

"No, but she's trying to act like she is." The humor in his tone vibrated in his chest as he poked your nose. "Why ye all bundled up bonnie? Cold?"

Feeling Simon shuffle up against your back side you shuffled to a ball nodding your head tucking into the pillow, "Ya"

It was quiet for a moment before they both pushed and squeezed you between them, Johnny untucking your limbs to wrap them around him and through your legs over his waist while Simon inched his hands and arms up your sweat shirt. "Then we'll need to fix that." Simon huffed squeezing your sides before one of his hands slipped over to Johnny holding him.

Unable to fall asleep the whole night you stayed as still as possible taking advantage of when they would shift to push and ease them away from your body, which was hard due to each time they would reach out grabbing hold of each other over you or tightening their grip onto you grumbling. When you ended up finally closing your eyes too tired to fight to push them away your phones alarm blared making you jump and the guys start turning and rewrapping around you groaning. Pushing Johnny you huffed, "Move Johnny." Listening to him grumble you were able to climb over him and turned your alarm off before looking over your shoulder and watching as they hugged each other, Johnny's face nuzzled into Simon's chest their legs tangling. As Simon started slowly dragging his hand up and down Johnny's back you made your way to the bathroom with clothes to change. Doing your morning routine you sighed before stepping out and grabbing a bag, to stuff some clothes in before making your way downstairs and getting your coffee and toast, looking at the washed dishes on the counter. Going to the door you started putting your shoes on and grabbed a spare pair before slipping out going to your car.

Pulling into the parking lot you looked at your phone seeing Johnny calling you. Answering just before the ringing stopped you held the phone to your ear walking in, "Morning."

"Bonnie? Where r'ye?"

"Work, sorry, I wasn't able to make breakfast." There was a pause over the phone as you set your stuff down at your desk waiting.

"Evrthin okay?" The hesitancy and nervousness made you feel guilty and sick.

"Yeah, I'm good." You tried so hard to sound normal, whatever that would be.

"What time ye off, thought we co-"

"I'm going over to John's after work tonight." The words flew past your lips cutting him off before you could even think. The silence that followed was deafening, your heart pounding.

"Oh" You heard the hushed tone of Simon asking what's wrong in the back ground, making you feel like you were third wheeling them somehow.

"I have to go, I'm spending the night over there so, I guess I'll see you tomorrow. Bye Johnny." Hanging up before he could respond you set your phone down on your desk staring at it. You almost wanted to call back but decided they can console each other. Getting yourself situated you got to work ignoring the random texts throughout the day from Johnny and surprisingly Simon. But Simon's texts were mostly asking why you were ignoring Johnny, and telling you to at least respond to him. Half way through the day Simon called you and proceeded to leave you a voice mail.

Taking a moment you decided to listen, "Y/N, what's going on? Just answer your phone. You can't answer Gaz and have a 20 minute talk with him to then ignore Johnny right after. Just talk to him, he's worried he did something wrong....... Luv, answer the damn phone." Realizing that you were crying you tried to wipe your face grabbing your things and left, getting into your car you started making your way to John's.

"Hi darling, how's your day?" at hearing you sniffle John set his pen down, "Darlin?"

"I'm heading to your place, I know it's early and your still have work...I'll wai-"

"I'll be there just after you, I'm leaving now." Hearing shuffling and a door closing you sighed.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, we'll talk properly when I get there." Hearing the firmness in his tone and the care, you tried to stop the tears or broken sob.

"Okay." You really hope you weren't making too big a deal of things but the insecurity of everything was weighing to much on your heart and mind.

"Sweetie, deep breath and relax. Need you getting there in one piece okay?"

"Yeah, yeah I know." Taking the deep breath you made the rest of the way to his place pulling into a spot, "I'm here."

"Right behind you."

Hanging up, you grabbed your over night bag and just before you could open your door it opened and John cupped your cheek looking at you. Breaking again you let him grab your bag from you as you wrapped your arms around him.

"Come on darling, let's get you inside." Following closely behind him you went in. Feeling him pick you up you wrapped your arms around his shoulders before feeling him sit on his couch setting you into his lap. "Okay darling, what's going on?"

Taking a moment to collect yourself you sat up, his hands and fingers carefully wiping tears from your cheeks, "I'm being ridiculous." You whispered.

"No, come on, talk with me." The gentleness of his tone and soft caressing had you thinking of Simon and Johnny.

"Was there ever anything that happened between you all?" The stiff pause before he slowly continued holding you made you pout even more. "Just be honest with me please?"

"We all used to..." Looking up at him he froze up before sighing, "It was long before he met you darling."

"But you all have slept with each other." As he nodded you sniffled, "Have you guys done anything since he and I-"

"No." The firm and quick answer was only reassuring that he hadn't but the gut wrenching feeling that ....

"What about Simon and Johnny?" The broken question made you sob as you stared into his eyes.

"Darling."

"When Johnny and I first started dating he talked about all of you, highly and kindly but he never stopped talking about..." Coughing you shook your head. "It's stupid, I've slept with all of you, I'm d-dating you....but they..." Recollecting yourself you straightened up, "Simon hasn't barely talked to me since that night much anymore and then last night... Johnny had swore to me he would be home for dinner because he hasn't been home like usual and I figured maybe you guys were all getting busy because you guys might be leaving soon. But when they both walked in, the way Simon was touching Johnny, caressing him, and then in bed they were reaching over me." Looking into his eyes you whispered, "I can't help but feel like the mistress that's ruining their happy ending."

John pulled you into his chest kissing your head, his hands rubbing up and down your back, arms, shoulders, everything. Anywhere he can reach he massaged, "I can't begin to tell you how wrong that is, or how much Johnny fucking loves you. When he first just laid his eyes on you, hadn't even talked to you, he was smitten. Talked our ears off on how beautiful you looked and when he finally worked up the courage to start talking to you, he stopped any and all physical relations with us. Every conversation was of your guys happy ending and how taken by you he is." Feeling him laugh you looked up at him, "Bloody fuckin hell luv, when he finally brought you round to introduce you to us, I understood how easy it was for him to be taken by you. I was right jealous and envious, and like I told you before, came back here cock in hand unable to control myself from saying your name every time." Sniffling you giggled, "You didn't ruin any happy bullshit ending darling, you brightened his, ours, all of us. Simon is a man with walls built so high that no matter how much we think we know him....He's quiet but, he cares about you. Dearly, obsessively." He paused for a moment before, "He'd never trust me if he heard me tell you, but darling, when Simon found out Johnny was having you have one night stands and sending him videos, the man was practically begging Johnny to let him sleep with you, bring your nickers for him, pictures or at least send him the videos. At one point he made Johnny do pointless work as pay back for not throwing him a bone to bring him your nickers." The blush covering your face made you tuck your face into his neck.

"Oh my god John."

"I'm serious, but you didn't hear that from me....Nor did you hear that he did steal a pair of your underwear that night we all first slept with you because he wasn't sure if you would want to be with him again." You looked at him with wide eyes.

"Seriously?" You both laughed, sniffling you relaxed into him. "So, I was actually just over thinking then, huh?"

"Sorry darling, but yeah. Johnny wouldn't ever do anything to risk losing you." The soft chuckle in his tone made you blush like a tomato, "Simon really does care about you lil cub." The nick name had you looking up at him. He kissed just beside your lips humming to himself. "Working yourself up like that, poor lil cub."

Feeling thoroughly foolish and slowly aroused by how deep John's voice is getting as he starts calling you by his special nickname. As the both of you started kissing John's phone started ringing. You guys pulled apart as he pulled his phone out, he glanced at you before answering and putting the phone on speaker.

"Cap? Where'r ye?"

You looked at John eyes widening, you held your breathe, "I went home for the day."

The line was quiet, and when you heard Simon question him on where their captain was your heart clenched. "Are you with her?"

You looked down into your lap before feeling his hand on your waist move up and tilt your chin. "Yeah, she's right here."

You pouted not yet sure what to say, "Johnny?"

It was so quiet before a broken sigh rang through the phone and Simon's trying to get Johnny to answer him, "Bonnie, whatever I did, bonnie, I'm so very sorry. Please talk to me. What did I do?" He started breaking down over the phone, you heard what sounded like Simon shuffling and moving Johnny somewhere before a door closed. Hearing Johnny sniffle and pleading for you to talk to him made you cry with him.

"Johnny, Johnny baby listen." The both of you sniffled as you listened to him taking deep breathes, "I'm sorry for not answering you, I'm sorry. You didn't d-do anything, it was just all in my head."

"Hey, no, no Johnny, you and Simon get Kyle and come to my place, there's a bit we need to talk about to clear things up."

"Clear what up?" Simon's voice made you look away trying to turn your body subconsciously from him still ashamed.

Feeling John pinch your side you flinched looking at him with your eye brows scrunched up, "A misunderstanding and something that should've been cleared up from the start of this."

"Oh fuck, Bonnie..." And like that you already knew Johnny could tell what was the matter. "Bonnie-"

"No, not over the phone please." You whispered shame and guilt making you curl back into John's chest.

The line was quiet before both men sighed, "Okay, okay, we'll find Kyle and be right there." Before anyone hung up Johnny sighed again cursing under his breathe, "Bonnie, I love you so damn much."

"Me too." Hanging up the phone you leaned into John again feeling so stupid and scared. You really hoped he wasn't mad at you, hoped none of them would be mad at you, John says they all care about you but they can care and still be annoyed and mad at you. "I'm such a idiot, my big bear." You groaned stuffing your face into his neck.

"Keep up this pity party you have going and I'm going to put you over my knee, lil cub. We'll all talk once they get here, it was an overlooked factor. It'll get cleared up, now stop pouting and calling yourself stupid."

Biting your lip you smirked a little looking up at him, "You'll put me over your knee, big bear?"

The grin on his face before you squealed in surprise when he man handled you to your stomach in his lap, his big palm squeezing and rubbing your ass before a swift slap made you gasp. "I follow through with my word lil cub. Do you need more?"

Trying not to moan, your thighs clenched together before glancing over your shoulder you gripped his leg before arching your back making your ass raise a little into his palm, "Maybe a few more, sir."

~~~~~

I DON'T KNOW! Hopefully ya'll enjoyed, apologize for the big gap in posting, life as been real crap lately. Going to start getting back into the groove of writing again though, have quite a few more story ideas and maybe some shorts. If ya'll have ideas or requests always feel free to send them in. 🤗🫡

[dandelionsunset1210]

6 please

“I love to hear your voice, even if you’re so far away.”

– – –

“Mellark’s Bakery, this is Peeta,” I answer the phone.

“If a recipe says to ‘cream the butter’, is that a requirement or more of a suggestion?”

“Who is this?”

“Who is this?! It’s your wife!” Katniss spats indignantly.

“Can’t be. I can’t think of a single reason why my wife would be in a situation to cream butter without me around,” I say

“Oh, ha, ha. Those bananas you bought are getting brown and I don’t want to waste them,” she says.

“Just throw them in the freezer, Katniss, I’ll bake them when I get home.”

Katniss gives a little huff of frustration.

“No, I already have everything out and this recipe seems easy, I just need to know if I have to cream the damn butter or not!”

I have to bite back my amusement. There comes a point in every recipe where Katniss gets frustrated. I just happen to know this recipe and know she’s on step one. Well, step two if she preheated the oven but she never remembers to do that.

“Yes, you should cream the butter with the sugar.”

“Great. Perfect,” she says in a high pitched, overly cheery voice. The silence between us goes on for a beat longer than comfortable. “Okay, fine. What does that mean?”

I finally let out the laugh I’ve been holding back. “Just throw it in the mixer until the consistency is creamy. No lumps.”

“Then why don’t they just say that,” she mumbles under her breath.

“Baker’s are notoriously tricky,” I say. “Want to skim the rest of the recipe to see if you have other questions?”

“No, I’ll just call back the next time I get frustrated,” she sighs.

“Good. I love to hear your voice, even if you’re so far away.”

Katniss rolls her eyes so hard I can practically hear it through the phone.

“I’m half a mile from you, Peeta.”

“Half a mile too far.”

“I’ll stop by with the most amazing banana bread you’ve ever tasted in an hour,” she says lightly.

“Oh I bet. Just make sure you remember to put some banana bread with all those chocolate chips.”

“Yeah, yeah. Love you, bye.”

“Love you, too. Preheat the oven!”

[just-a-sewer-goblin]

Baker!Johnny x gn!reader Part 3 I missed these two and their flirting. I love them so much. It's honestly a bit disheartening how little attention and love they get but I decided that I don't care. They have my heart and soul and I want to be invited to their wedding (if they ever manage to get that far). As always let me know if I messed up the readers description anywhere. Warnings: horrible flirting, Johnny being down bad. Part 2 | COD Masterlist | (Part 4)

It’s early, the night sky only just giving way to the grey morning air, preparing for the sun to rise. Johnny likes these early mornings when he gets to work in concentrated silence, gets to try what makes his creations come out best.

The bakery is not open yet, which is why Johnny is entirely unprepared for you to stick your head through the door smiling faintly while he arranges the display to his liking.

“Morning, MacTavish. I have to go in early for work but I just realized you’re not open yet. Is there any chance you have any leftovers from yesterday, that I could take to go?”

Johnny grins at the way you’re stuck at the door, evidently not wanting to come in when he’s technically not open yet. “Ye can come in, bonny. A’m not going tae bite, not unless ye ask fur it.”

At that you fully open the front door and walk up to the counter. He can’t help but whistle lowly when he sees the suit you’re wearing and you grin confidently, your hands casually hidden in the pockets of your pants. You slowly rock from your forefoot to your heels and back, eyeing the baked goods for a moment before looking at him again. “I think you have a bit of drool there, MacTavish. Looks like you’d like to bite after all.”

He can feel himself light up with the restless buzzing energy you always set free in him. Truth be told, he always has loads of energy but with you it feels like an entire swarm of bees is set loose in his body. It’s nervous and jittery and new. Very enjoyable, he decides.

Deliberately he licks his lower lips and lets his eyes rake up and down your body slowly. The suit makes your legs look even longer than usually and you have an almost regal air about you. The way your coat is casually slung over your shoulders makes him want to stride up to you and push it off, let his hands wander down your sides appreciatively and get a handful of you.

“Luckily fur ye ah have guid self-control. Unless you want me tae let go o’ it.”

You incline your head a mischievous glint in your eyes, your voice dropping slightly. “Now where would be the fun in that, pretty boy. I’d much rather watch you try to keep it together.”

The petname almost makes his knees buckle and his next breath is more a shaky sigh. Fucking hell, what are you doing to him. How can you stand there, looking so outrageously gorgeous and have the nerve to tease him?

Trying to hide his flustered state, he leans his hip against the counter and crosses his arms, trying to put his thick biceps on show for you. “A've got a batch o` yer fave pastries in the oven, they should be done in a few minutes, if ye have the time.”

Your eyes light up at that and you pretend to swoon. “You are the absolute best. What would I do without your sweets. My poor clients would have to deal with me in a grumpy mood.”

Johnny eyes your expressive face, the laugh lines around your mouth contradicting what you just said. Johnny tries to stop himself from smiling as hard as you do but he can’t. It’s too contagious.

“Dinnae fuck wi' me. Ye haven't been in a bad mood a day in yer life.”

You laughter rings out at that, melodic and beautiful, and he finds himself chuckling along. The way you throw your head back is absolutely breathtaking and it makes the coat slip off of your shoulders. Swiftly you turn and catch it before it hits the ground.

Casually you throw the coat over one shoulder, turning back to him and he swears you have to be a model on the side. There is no way that you are real and just look like that.

When you meet his eyes again he already knows that you’re going to hit him with another cheeky remark. “Look at that. Charming me right out of my clothes, MacTavish.”

He barks a sharp laugh his chest feeling light, like it’s filled with candy cotton. “Ah must be daein' a piss poor job if ye'r only losing th' jacket.”

Suddenly you’re right at the counter, so close he swears he can smell your delicious scent. Your eyes are slightly shadowed from the way you look down at him but the amused glitter in them steals his breath anyway. “Maybe if you play your cards right I’ll lose more clothes next time.”

He’s hyperventilating. Someone should call a fucking medic. Flashes of you without clothes cross his mind and he tries hard to hold onto one of those images but he can’t, they’re too vague. He needs to know what you look like under your suit. If he doesn’t get more of you he’ll die of thirst, he’s sure of it.

“Ye will nae hae tae lose them if ye let me tak' them off fur ye.” His voice is even raspier than usually but he doesn’t clear his throat. People dig the roughness and he can see something in your eyes flash for a second, though it looks more like amusement and that realization is slightly jarring, when his entire being is alight with desire for you.

“That is a privilege you’ll have to earn, pretty boy.”

The confidence makes him want to crawl to you on his hands and knees and he’s about to say that he’d do anything to earn it, when the oven beeps for his attention and you visibly perk up, the tension shattering like fragile glass.

You’re already giddy for the sweets and he can feel his heartbeat thunder in his ears. How come you’re never affected by your conversations?! What does he have to do to fluster you too? Flirt harder?

“That's mah cue. Ah don’t want tae make ye late fur work.”

Even though the disappointment of your indifference to his flirting weights heavy, it doesn’t take long for him to pack you as many pastries as you want after that and he makes sure to prepare your coffee exactly how you like it.

The smile on your face when you turn to leave is friendly but casual. No trace of the earlier flirting left and he groans as he watches you walk out, cursing your coat for covering your ass. He’s sure it looks spectacular in those well-fitting suit pants.

A loud groan of frustration tears from his throat. Luckily he’ll have another half an hour before any other customers come in. That’s enough time to calm himself down and get his heartbeat under control.

He needs a battle plan, some way he can up his flirting and make sure you know it’s not just meaningless banter with you. No he wants that every day. He wants to see you outside of his bakery, to hold your hand and feel your beautiful fingers on his skin. Maybe he should ask the guys. No he’s not that desperate. Not yet, anyway.

For now he turns to put the next batch of fresh buns in the oven.

[sanjisboyfie]

DOMESTICITY : sanji's special dessert

jus some fluffy <3

(keep safe) sanji + male reader

-> i do have to say though: this doesn't really give OUTRIGHT romantic relationship/vibes but underlying tones are THERE trust. it's literally supposed to just be domesticity with sanji and the male reader. so SORRRY for not directly feeding into it ;( but i wanted to share this anyway because i do love the concept of this one in particular >:)

read the original fanfic where this sanji and the mc are based from !!

surprisingly, sanji and [name] got along more often times than not. it was only when they were really in the heat of the moment among their crewmates did they end up arguing. but also whenever [name] said anything about nami or vivi that sanji could have deemed invasive (it wasn’t, sanji was just really over protective of the women on their ship).

regardless of that fact, though, [name] really enjoyed sanji’s company.

“coffee cake! coffee cake!” [name] cheered from behind the counter, making sanji glare at him over his shoulder.

“hold on a minute, goddamit!” sanji shouted, putting the baking pan on the stove, fresh out of the oven. [name] ran around the counter and almost grabbed at the burning hot pan with his own hands, if it had not been sanji that stopped him right before he could touch it.

sanji restrained [name]’s greedy hands, cursing under his breath at [name]’s troublesome appetite.

“you’re gonna burn your hands, idiot!” sanji scolded, holding on [name]’s hands and pushing him back behind the counter, “wait for it to cool off a little, you can’t eat it right after it comes out of the oven,”

“but — you said it was ready!” [name] yelled in annoyance, a pout on his lips, “i want the coffee cake now! you just put it on there to taunt me, huh?”

“stop yelling for a second,” sanji said, sitting [name] down and lighting his cigarette. “let’s just wait a couple of minutes and then you can eat all of it,”

“really?! all of it?!” [name] had stars in his eyes.

the blonde chuckled, resting a hand on [name]’s shoulder to make sure he didn’t launch himself off at the hot pan on the stove. “well, you could eat all of it if you just kept your mouth shut,” sanji said, bringing a finger up to his lips, “you know luffy and his ear for food, he’s gonna come running down if you keep screaming about it,”

“roger,” [name] said obediently, his lips turning into a tight line as he sat very, very still. sanji chuckled, ruffling [name]’s hair and counting down the minutes.

after complete silence, [name] literally shaking in his seat from withdrawing himself from shouting out for the pastry, sanji was finally able to serve it to the starving man. he plated it carefully, placing it down in front of [name] with a mug of coffee to go with it.

“thank you sanji, you’re really the best!” [name] shouted before shoving the piece of cake into his mouth. he chewed it quickly, gulping down some coffee, before repeating the process over and over.

sanji wished he had the heart to scold [name] for eating so carelessly, but the longer he watched the scene, he simply let [name] be. sanji would be there to wipe his face clean anyway.

“this is so yummy, sanji, it’s not sweet at all,” [name] praised, bringing the empty plate up for another slice. sanji nodded his head, following the needs of the man easily and putting another thick slice of the cake onto [name]’s plate.

out of nowhere, luffy barged into the room and had stars in his eyes at the sight of the pastry. just as he was about to launch himself at the plate, sanji had easily kicked him away.

“don’t touch [name]’s food, bastard,” sanji said gruffly, putting his foot down onto luffy’s head and rolling his foot over his cheeks several times, “i already prepared you and the rest of the crew a cake, it’s out on the deck,”

“but, sanji, i already finished it!”

“well, then i’ll make you another one,” sanji simply said, walking away from luffy’s body that was in the corner of the kitchen, “[name] gets to have his own dessert since he can’t stomach the ones i usually make, so don’t ruin his own cakes!”

“but, sanji-!”

“out, out of the kitchen! don’t bother me again, unless you don’t want your cake anymore!” sanji threatened, waving a whisk at luffy, which effectively made the captain run out of the kitchen. it sounded as he was complaining how cruel sanji was, but it was honestly hard to tell.

“thanks, sanji,” [name] smiled sweetly, taking a languid sip of his coffee, “i almost gave him some of mine…”

“tsk, learn how to be a bit more selfish,” sanji scolded [name], chopping him lightly on the head. “or that baffoon is gonna eat all your food,”

“but-”

sanji shoved the spoon of coffee cake into [name]’s mouth to shut him up, shaking his head, “no buts, just don’t do it again,”

[name] quickly chewed, going to argue further, but sanji only repeated the same action and shoved another spoonful into [name]’s agape mouth. after savoring the dessert, [name] finally decided to give up and simply enjoy the food sanji had made him.

“thanks, sanji, i appreciate you making this for me,” [name] said, an undenaibly happy look on his face, “i know it’s probably more work for you, you have to make a separate dish from the rest of the crew-”

“just shut up,” sanji groaned, running a hand through his hair, “if you just shut up and eat, i’ll accept your thanks.”

[name] paused, looking at sanji with a soft look in his eyes. he tilted his head to the side, “c’mon, let’s finish it together,” sanji hummed in thought before leaning against the counter on his elbows. he took the spoon from [name]’s hand and tasted some of his own baking.

with a content hum, he relished in the bitter taste. sanji really had no preference for sweet or bitter, but since everyone on board merry preferred sweet, he had been used to eating only sugary desserts.

[name] joining allowed for him to get a taste of less sugary delights. and he enjoyed that, genuinely.

he stayed leaning against the counter, mindlessly sharing the spoon with [name] and exchanging small talk as they slowly finished the last crumbs of the dessert. [name] grinned, happily licking his lips, “the best chef and baker, sanji!!”

the chef’s back was turned to [name] since he was taking care of the dishes, so [name] couldn’t see his small smile.

“quiet down! i don’t want yelling in my kitchen!” sanji scolded the screaming man.

but [name] kept on cheering. and as his shouts of praise got louder, sanji’s grin got wider.