#I did phone baking a bit of door knocking

[milo-by-the-fishtank]

I can name all of the provinces, but I cannot name all the states, and I think that’s truly what it means to be an American of Canadian descent!

I can tell you all the stereotypes of the provinces too, but I could also do that for the states so that’s not like all that special

But canadiens please come and help me. They’re holding me hostage here please please please please please come help. 

They try to put a fucking terrified you guys that I wouldn’t be able to get my Quebec maple syrup and all my pretty bead work from Canada, but I also get bead work from America so I guess like there’s that, but I also love to get specific beadwork from the tribes that I’m related to sooo mmmmm 

[whosashan]

I'VE GOT MY EYES ON YOU

PAIRING: Love and Deepspace men x reader

SYNOPSIS: How you and him started dating.

A/N: Hope you enjoy!

Xavier

The moment you laid eyes on Xavier, you knew you had to have him. How could you not? That strikingly handsome face, those curious blue eyes, and an effortlessly captivating presence—it was impossible to resist.

The first time you approached him was at a grocery store. Your heart pounded against your ribs, threatening to break free from your chest, but you forced yourself to remain composed. Summoning your courage, you struck up a conversation.

He didn’t seem particularly interested, responding with brief, lackluster answers.

‘It’s fine, he’ll warm up to me,’ you assured yourself, determination flickering in your gaze. You had never pursued a man before, but this time was different. There was something about him—something magnetic—that refused to let you walk away.

Somehow, you managed to secure his phone number, and you wasted no time texting him, attempting to revive the conversation from earlier.

With persistence, you chipped away at his guarded demeanor, gradually uncovering bits and pieces of who he was. One particularly useful detail you learned? He lived close by. Another? His cooking skills were, to put it lightly, atrocious.

‘Perfect,’ you mused, making a beeline for your kitchen. It was time to put those cooking classes to good use.

Weeks turned into months, and an unspoken routine formed between the two of you—you would cook, and he would eat. As cliché as it was, the old saying held true: the way to a man’s heart really was through his stomach. Your bond deepened, not in a whirlwind of passion, but in slow, comfortable moments. And you didn’t mind one bit.

Late-night arcade outings, spontaneous hangouts, and occasional movie nights became the norm. And every time he fell asleep beside you, his face soft, his messy hair falling over his slightly flushed cheeks, your heart stuttered in your chest.

But with familiarity came a new problem: you had started to care, truly care, and with that realization, your once-unshakable confidence wavered. Flirting had been easy before, playful and teasing, but now? Now, every word felt heavier, every glance more meaningful. And the worst part? You were sure he didn’t even notice.

The final straw came when you noticed a certain colleague of his getting too close for your liking. That was it. You couldn’t put this off any longer.

“Hey, Xayxay, can you meet up? I want to talk to you about something,” you texted, before promptly throwing your phone onto your bed as if that would somehow lessen the weight of your nerves.

You waited. And waited.

It felt like an eternity.

Then, a sudden knock at your door.

You nearly tripped over yourself in your rush to open it. And there he was—Xavier, slightly breathless, eyes laced with concern, like he had practically run to get here.

“Did something happen?” he asked, stepping inside with the ease of someone who had long since made themselves at home in your space. And you loved that.

You sighed, wringing your hands together.

“Look, I don’t want to put this off any longer…” You hesitated, biting your lip. “Xavier, I like you. More than a friend.”

You braced yourself for rejection. But instead, you were met with his puzzled stare.

“…Aren’t we dating?”

“…What?”

“…What?”

So, it turned out you had nothing to worry about after all.

Zayne

On your way home, you stepped into a charming little pastry shop near the hospital. The aroma of freshly baked goods filled the air, making your mouth water in anticipation. You could already picture yourself sinking your teeth into a rich, decadent cake.

As you stood in line, your gaze landed on a man whose face was so strikingly handsome it felt almost unfair. There was an air of quiet composure about him, an effortless grace that made it nearly impossible to look away. You found yourself studying him, mind racing with ways to strike up a conversation. How often did you come across someone this captivating?

"Excuse me, sir." Your voice took on a honeyed sweetness that made you cringe internally, but desperate times called for desperate measures. "You seem like quite the pastry connoisseur. I don’t come here often, so I’d love a recommendation." A harmless lie.

He turned his gaze toward you, expression unreadable. Crossing his arms, he seemed to consider your question carefully before responding.

"If you’re looking for something light, the macarons are an excellent choice. If you prefer something more substantial, the caramel cheesecake is exquisite." His tone was smooth, assured—like a man who always knew the right answer.

At least he had good taste.

"Ahh, thank you! I’ll definitely try both," you said, flashing him a bright smile. Then, before you could lose your nerve, you added, "If you’re not busy, maybe we could enjoy them together here?"

Where had this sudden boldness come from?

He studied you for a moment, as if weighing his options. Then, with a small nod, he answered, "I do have a break from work right now. Alright."

You nearly leapt with joy, but just as you were about to celebrate internally—

"Ahh, Y/N! My favorite customer! What can I get for you today?" the cashier called out cheerfully.

You froze. Busted.

Despite the momentary embarrassment, the interaction led to an exchange of phone numbers. You didn’t get to see Zayne often due to his demanding career as a doctor, but he always found time to text back, even indulging your occasional rants. Sometimes, he even called. The slow progression of your relationship was something you treasured, a delicate dance of growing affection.

Time passed, and though you longed to ask Zayne out, you hesitated. He almost seemed too good to be true. Would he ever truly be interested in you?

Then, there were the little things—how his gaze lingered a second too long, how his hand seemed to hover over yours before pulling away, how, despite his overwhelming schedule, he always carved out time for you. Were those hints? Or were you reading too much into it?

Your thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the soft ping of a notification. Your heart jumped as you picked up your phone. A message from Zayne.

"Are you free tonight?"

Such a simple text, yet it sent heat rushing through your body.

"For sure! What do you want to do?" you replied, fingers trembling slightly as you awaited his response.

"I’d love to take you out."

Your breath hitched. Take you out. As in… a date?

You stared at the message, searching for any alternate meaning, but there was none.

"I would love that, Zayne," you finally typed, hands shaking.

"Lovely. I’ll pick you up at 7."

You practically sprinted to your room to get ready.

The evening was nothing short of perfect. He took you to a refined restaurant, surprising you with a bouquet of your favorite flowers—proof that he had been listening all along. The air between you was charged with something different, something new yet thrilling.

After dinner, the two of you strolled beneath a sky blanketed with stars, the crisp night air adding an almost cinematic touch to the moment.

"You’re shivering," he observed, his voice as calm and measured as ever. Without hesitation, he slipped off his coat and draped it over your shoulders, the warmth of the fabric—and of him—enveloping you.

"Thank you…" you murmured, smiling softly but avoiding his gaze, afraid he’d see just how deeply he affected you.

"Y/N." He came to a halt, prompting you to stop as well. His tone was composed, yet there was an unfamiliar weight behind it.

"I would love to take you out more… What I mean is, would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?" His face remained impassive, but you swore you caught the faintest hint of a blush gracing his cheeks.

Your heart nearly exploded.

"I would love nothing more, Zayne."

Rafayel

Being an art enthusiast, you often found yourself wandering through exhibitions, losing yourself in the beauty of each piece. Tonight, however, felt different. This was Rafayel's exhibition—a name that had long held a certain power over you. His art possessed an almost hypnotic quality, evoking emotions so profound that you struggled to put them into words.

As you moved through the gallery, your gaze inevitably found him. Rafayel stood amidst a small group of admirers, answering their questions with an effortless confidence. His voice was smooth, steady, rich with an underlying intensity that made it impossible to ignore.

But it wasn’t just his voice that captivated you. He was a masterpiece himself—dressed in a crisp white blouse, his dark hair slightly tousled, his sharp eyes carrying a quiet depth. There was something about the way he carried himself, as if knowing the effect he had on people.

You didn't want to appear as just another admirer swooning over the artist. Your fascination went beyond that—you were genuinely intrigued by his mind, his process. So, when the crowd around him began to disperse, leaving him momentarily alone, you took a steadying breath and approached him. He stood before one of his paintings, his gaze heavy with contemplation.

"You truly know how to capture a moment," you mused, your voice steady but tinged with admiration. "This piece in particular—it feels almost melancholic, like someone longing for something just out of reach."

Rafayel’s eyes flicked toward you, scanning your face, weighing your words. For a brief moment, you feared he might dismiss you with the same aloofness he granted others, but instead, his lips curved into something almost thoughtful. And just like that, an unspoken understanding passed between you, giving way to a conversation that carried on far longer than you had expected.

That first meeting was the spark. You found yourself returning to his exhibitions more often, drawn not just to his art but to him. It became a quiet routine—the two of you engaging in deep discussions, learning the intricacies of each other's thoughts and mannerisms. At first, Rafayel maintained his usual air of arrogance, teasing and enigmatic, but with time, you glimpsed something more—something raw and unguarded beneath the facade.

It wasn’t long before your admiration deepened into something more. You had fallen for him, hopelessly so. And you liked to think, in stolen moments of lingering glances and fleeting touches, that perhaps he felt the same.

One evening, you found yourself in his studio, sitting on the floor as he worked, the only sounds being the occasional stroke of his brush against canvas. The atmosphere was comforting, intimate in a way words couldn’t quite capture.

“You’re unusually quiet,” he remarked, his tone laced with amusement. You rolled your eyes, looking up at him from your spot on the floor.

“And you’re talkative, as always.” A soft smile played on your lips as you stood and walked toward him.

“Rafayel, can I ask you something?” The hesitation in your voice made him pause. He turned to face you, one brow arched in curiosity.

“Why so serious?” he asked, studying you intently.

You scoffed lightly. “Never mind, then.”

He let out a small sigh. "You’ve already started. Might as well finish."

You hesitated for a beat before finally speaking. “Do you… have someone you like? More than a friend, I mean.”

For a fleeting second, something unreadable passed through his gaze. Then, a slow smirk tugged at his lips. “Curious, aren’t you?”

“Maybe.”

He exhaled a quiet chuckle before answering, “There is someone. She’s insufferably stubborn, a little reckless, and quite possibly the clumsiest person I’ve ever met.” His gaze softened, a rare warmth creeping into his tone. “And yet, she’s also the most endearing.”

Your heart pounded against your ribs. “You need to be more specific.”

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “If you weren’t so oblivious, you’d figure it out.”

A teasing smile spread across your lips. “Wait—are you talking about me?” You nudged him playfully.

He said nothing, his focus returning to his painting.

Oh.

“YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT ME?” you blurted, eyes wide with disbelief.

“Don’t flatter yourself. It’s just a small crush,” he scoffed, though the faint pink dusting his ears betrayed him.

A laugh bubbled out of you, pure and unrestrained. “Aww, Rafayel! I like you too.”

His expression flickered with surprise before he quickly masked it with his usual confidence. “Of course you do. Who wouldn’t?”

Despite his words, his actions spoke differently—pulling you into his arms, he pressed a tender kiss to your temple, lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.

Perhaps, just this once, he didn’t mind wearing his heart on his sleeve.

Sylus

Sleep had eluded you, leaving you restless and craving the crisp night air. The city was bathed in the gentle glow of streetlights, the sky an endless expanse of inky black adorned with shimmering stars. Their quiet brilliance was captivating, an ethereal distraction that kept your gaze skyward as you wandered aimlessly through the quiet streets.

Lost in thought, you didn’t notice the figure in your path until you collided with him.

“Oh! I’m so sorry—” you started, but your words caught in your throat as you looked up at him.

The man before you was striking. Towering in stature, his silver hair gleamed beneath the moonlight, tousled in a way that made it appear effortlessly elegant. But it was his eyes that truly seized your breath—deep crimson, piercing and intense, as if they could unravel every secret hidden within you. His features were sharp, sculpted to perfection, and his presence exuded an air of undeniable dominance.

He regarded you with a smirk, his amusement evident.

“Worry not, sweet thing,” he murmured, his voice a velvety caress against your senses. The smoothness of his tone sent a shiver down your spine, deepening the warmth blooming in your cheeks. His gaze flickered over your face, noting your reaction, and his smirk grew ever so slightly.

Only then did you realize what else you had stumbled upon. A few feet away, a man knelt on the pavement, head bowed, his entire posture trembling before the silver-haired stranger. The sight sent unease prickling up your spine.

What exactly had you just walked into?

The silver-haired man followed your gaze before exhaling softly. “Ah,” he mused, as if debating what to say. “A young lady like you shouldn’t be wandering alone at this hour. The night is filled with monsters, after all.”

The way he said it, with that knowing glint in his crimson eyes, sent a fresh wave of unease through you. Somehow, you knew he wasn’t speaking metaphorically. But instead of pressing for answers, something in you decided it was best not to ask.

“I was just out for some air. I should…probably head home now.” You forced a steady voice, willing your body not to betray the apprehension creeping into your bones. Every instinct in you screamed to run, yet your legs remained locked in place, unwilling to reveal your fear.

He tilted his head slightly, watching you. Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he crossed his arms over his broad chest. “Allow me to escort you.”

Your breath hitched. “You seem more dangerous than whatever else is lurking out here.”

A rich chuckle escaped him, dark and amused. “A fair observation.” He leaned in slightly, his gaze never wavering. “But that decision, my dear, is entirely yours.”

Despite every warning sign flashing in your mind, you hesitated. There was something about him—his presence was undeniably commanding, yet oddly reassuring. And then, there was the nagging feeling that he was familiar, though you couldn't place why.

Eventually, you gave a small nod, curiosity overpowering reason.

And so began your entanglement with Sylus. The enigmatic man came and went like a shadow, slipping in and out of your life at his whim. Some nights, he would appear unexpectedly, gifting you your favorite sweets or leaving a new dress draped across your doorstep with no explanation. Tickets to your favorite concerts would mysteriously find their way into your mailbox, the sender unstated but obvious.

It was infuriating. It was intoxicating. He was impossible to understand, yet he made you feel desired—seen in a way no one else ever had.

But after monthsof his unpredictable vanishing acts, your patience wore thin. So when he strolled into your apartment one evening, pouring himself a glass of the wine you had bought earlier, you finally snapped.

“You’re confusing me,” you blurted, frustration lacing your tone. “What am I to you, Sylus?”

He glanced at you, his expression unreadable. He raised the glass to his lips but paused, considering your words. Slowly, he set the drink down and approached you, his crimson eyes locking onto yours. When he reached out to cup your cheek, you instinctively pushed his hand away, resolve burning in your gaze.

He sighed. Vulnerability did not come easily to him; that much was clear. But you were different. You had made him a little softer, a little weaker in ways he didn’t quite understand.

“I can’t keep living in uncertainty,” you continued, voice steadier now. “Either tell me what you want, or leave me alone.”

A beat of silence stretched between you before he spoke, his voice low, certain.

“I want you.”

The simplicity of the statement sent your heart racing. You hadn’t expected him to be so direct, nor for his words to carry such weight.

Your face grew hot. “You’re an idiot.”

A quiet chuckle rumbled in his chest as you sighed, resting your head against him, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. He smelled of something rich and warm, a scent you couldn’t quite place but already found comforting.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you mumbled, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Sylus merely hummed in amusement, his arms wrapping around you with the quiet possessiveness of a man who had no intention of letting go.

Caleb

After your reunion with Caleb, an unfamiliar feeling took root in your chest—no, not unfamiliar. It had always been there, buried beneath layers of friendship and denial. But now, it was impossible to ignore. Suddenly, you were hyper-aware of just how much of a man he had become.

His kind yet brooding eyes, that boyish grin, the intoxicating scent that lingered on his clothes—had he always smelled this good? Broad shoulders, strong arms, hands that had always handled you with ease, lifting you effortlessly whenever. The thought alone sent heat creeping up your cheeks, and the man sitting across from you clearly took notice.

“What’s got you all blushy-blushy, pipsqueak?” he teased, pinching your cheek with that infuriatingly smug smirk.

You scoffed, turning your face away. “Don’t touch my face, Caleb! I have makeup on.”

Lately, you’d found yourself caring more about your appearance around him. It was absurd. He’d seen you at your absolute worst—bedhead, tears, even the aftermath of too much liquor. Yet now, every glance he sent your way made you feel… shy? What was happening to you?

He only chuckled in response, leaning back against his chair.

The two of you had met up at a café to play Kitty Cards, an old favorite. He always let you win, though he never admitted it. You pretended not to notice, but every time you did, it made you smile—just a little.

“Alright, come on. The movie’s gonna start soon.” He stood, extending his hand toward you. Without hesitation, you took it, savoring the warmth of his rough palm against yours.

The movie of choice was a horror film—Caleb’s idea, of course. You had agreed, partly to humor him and partly because any excuse to spend more time with him was welcome.

Inside the theater, you sat beside him, the glow of the screen illuminating his sharp features. The flickering light made his eyes glimmer, and for a moment, you were caught staring. You quickly looked away, but not before he noticed. Of course he noticed.

“You’re acting weird.” His gaze lingered on you, his voice laced with curiosity.

“I—uh—I’m on my period,” you blurted, grasping for an excuse. “That’s all. I just feel a little unwell.”

His expression softened instantly. “You should’ve told me. Do you want to go home? I’ll cook you some soup, and we can watch something there instead.”

There he was again—always caring, always thinking of you. It made your heart race, and you hated how easily he could do that to you.

“No, it’s fine. Let’s just watch the movie.”

As the film progressed, it proved to be far scarier than you’d anticipated. Without realizing it, you had latched onto Caleb’s hand. He chuckled at your reaction but didn’t pull away.

Then came the jump scare.

Out of reflex, you turned toward him, seeking comfort. But at the same moment, he turned toward you.

Peck.

Your lips brushed against his.

Your breath hitched. His eyes widened slightly, and for a few heart-stopping seconds, neither of you moved. Neither of you spoke. Just stared.

“I’m so sorry!” you yelped, whipping your head away in mortification.

“Hey, it’s fine, pipsqueak.” He gave you a reassuring smile. “It was an accident.”

You didn’t know why, but his words stung a little.

“…Yeah.”

By the time you returned home, your shoulders were weighed down with something heavy, something unspoken. It gnawed at you, clawed at your chest.

Caleb, as if sensing your turmoil, placed his hands on your shoulders, turning you to face him. “Alright, that’s enough. Tell me what’s wrong.”

You swallowed hard, your gaze dropping to the floor before gathering the courage to meet his eyes.

“Caleb… would it be selfish of me if I said I want to kiss you again?”

Silence. A single, tense moment stretched between you, thick enough to drown in. Then, without a word, he reached for you. His hands cupped your face, disregarding your earlier complaint about ruining your makeup, and with a quiet exhale, he pressed his lips to yours.

The kiss was brief, tender—yet it held the weight of something long overdue.

In that moment, you knew he was no longer only your best friend.

[1800dojaejung]

Strawberry Sunday (YJH & KMG)

->Summary: When your best friend is away, you and Jeonghan always find time to play. This time he invites his friend to play along and things get a little messy - in the literal sense. ->Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan & Kim Mingyu x Fem!Reader ->Genres/Tropes/AUs: Smut, best friend’s brother, fuckbuddies (is this a trope???) non!idol au, pwp ->Rating: 18+ MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI! YOU WILL BE BLOCKED ->Words: 8.4k | ->Warnings/Content: profanity, threesome, dirty talk, oral (m & f receiving), handjob, unprotected sex, fingering, food play, nipple/boob play, begging, praise, teasing, cum play/body painting, biting/marking, pet names (sweetheart, baby, good girl, babydoll) and I think that's it 😮‍💨 ->Note: Written for the secret cupid event hosted by @ddeonghwa-s! Hiiiii @gyuhanniescarat, it's meeee I'm your cupid!! 🩷 Please enjoy this fresh freak nasty filth I’ve whipped up for you!! 👩🏽‍🍳💋 (and tbh for myslf too bc as a ShuaHannieGyu girly I very much enjoyed creating this hehe)

Thank you 37432987414 billion times to @shadowkoo for the perfect banner!!!! I'm still so obsessed with it! And thank you to my love @soongyeopsal for always being my favorite beta 🥰

The weekend. Easygoing Saturdays and lazy Sundays: the perfect way to end a stressful, fast-paced week.

You're halfway through your weekend and feeling wonderfully relaxed. On Saturday, you did some light cleaning that you were behind on and leisurely, at your own pace, ran a few errands, but most of the day was spent in your apartment, curled up on the couch with a book in hand.

Sundays are for sleeping in and when you do finally wake up, you take a long shower, complete with your favorite candles and a lo-fi mix as you scrub and relax under the warm spray. Once you’re in your comfiest lounge clothes and have taken the time to whip up a yummy brunch, you settle in on your couch, remote in hand. There are a number of dramas that are overdue for your attention, so you decide to pick one at random and get lost in it.

And you do manage to get lost in your show, cozy blanket, and your couch. Your brunch has been eaten and your eyes start to droop shut as you feel a midday nap coming on.

This is interrupted when you hear the chime of your phone from somewhere in your blanket cocoon.When you manage to fish it out, you see an incoming call from your best friend.

“Hey, Soo, what’s up?”

“Y/n! Please lend me your baking skills!” She sounds desperate and it makes you nervous.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Sooyoung sighs heavily over the line, the sound of the phone shifting is almost too loud and you have to ​​pull yours away from your ear a little bit.

“Are you busy? Can you come over? I’m trying to make cupcakes for Hyoseob for Valentine’s day, you know, but I fucked up the recipe because you know baking isn’t really my thing and now I’m panicking and don’t know if I’ll get them done by tomorrow and could really use someone who knows what the hell they’re doing in here, please?”

A small laugh leaves you at your best friend’s frazzled speech and you can hear the pout in her voice.You glance around you, taking in one more view of your lazy Sunday setup, before turning off the TV.

“Of course, I’ll get dressed and come over.”

“Oh my gosh, thank you so much, Y/n! I love you so much, thank you, thank you!!”

“Love you too. See you in a few.”

Once you hang up you sigh. You do enjoy baking and you always love spending time with Sooyoung so helping her won’t hurt. It’s not really the plan you had for today, but it could be worse, so you won’t complain. Not too much at least.

At least the drive to Sooyoung’s isn’t long and there wasn’t much traffic on the road which you’re grateful for. You get to the small house she shares with her brother and it only takes one knock to have her swinging the door open.

“Thank god, come in!” She grabs your arm, giving you enough time to at least take off your shoes, and parades you into the kitchen. As you pass the hallway, you can hear voices and the sound of a TV in the distance.

“Is Jeonghan here?” you ask, trying to sound casual. You do a great job at not making any indication that you’re actually hopeful that her older brother is here.

Yoon Jeonghan is the prettiest man you’ve ever had the pleasure of being around. And as of two months ago, he’s also the prettiest man who you’ve been lucky enough to have pleasured you.

It wasn’t on purpose, you always remind yourself. You just so happened to be over, drinking with Sooyoung and her brother as you all hung out on a Saturday night. Sooyoung drank a little too much and passed out. You and Jeonghan did your best to take her to her room and tuck her in.

Honestly, after that you’re not even sure how it happened, but you ended up riding Jeonghan on his bed and he gave you what you still think was quite possibly the best orgasm you’ve ever experienced in your life.

Since then, you and he have hooked up secretly here and there when given the chance, but nothing serious has come of it. He just has a pretty dick and knows how to fuck so who are you to say no when he offers?

“Oh, yeah sorry. He and Mingyu are here, unfortunately. Mingyu stayed over last night and wouldn’t you know, neither of them helped me at all!”

“Well, Jeonghan doesn’t really belong in the kitchen,” you joke. You also hide how you nearly choke on your spit when she mentions Mingyu’s name. You don’t know him that well, but he’s around enough that you can easily remember what he looks like (gorgeous) and how he’s built (like a greek god).

“Yeah, but Mingyu does! Remember he made that cake for my birthday last year! And the food he made at our housewarming. But when I asked, Jeonghan said ‘no they’re busy’ and dragged him away. They’ve been in his room all day doing whatever it is men do.” Sooyoung scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, that’s fine because now my bestie is here and is a better baker than all of us combined!”

You smile, genuinely appreciating the compliment, but also taking in the state of the kitchen. It’s a good size with a decent amount of counter space and great natural lighting. Said counter space now, though, is covered in ingredients and bowls and even some sprinkles and sugar and flour.

“So uh, what was the plan in here?” you ask, doing a slow lap around the room and eyeing two bowls of what looks like batter and fluffy, pink icing.

“Okay, so I wanted to make a batch of strawberry and a batch of chocolate cupcakes for Hyo, but then I burnt the chocolate cakes so those are a dud, and I ran out of sugar for the strawberry cupcakes and the chocolate frosting. I’ve been at this since I woke up at like 9 and all I have to show for it is a burnt tray and this mess you can see. The only thing I think I did right was the strawberry frosting.” She gestures to the bowl closest to you. You grab a spoon from the drawer and dip into the frosting, taking a small amount.

“Mmm. This is good.”

“Thank you! But now, I have to go to the store and get the missing ingredients and then try this again which is why I called you because if I go and get what I need and screw it up again, I think I’m going to have a full meltdown and cancel Valentine’s day.” Sooyoung lets out a huff, shoulders deflating as she sniffs.

You toss the spoon in the sink and rush over to hug your friend. You push away your thirsty thoughts for her brother and his friend and focus on her.

“Hey, it’s okay, girl! I’m here now, okay? I’ll help you tidy up, we’ll go over the ingredients you have left, make a list for the store, and get a game plan going okay? I’m here to help.”

With wide, shining eyes, Sooyoung pulls back and pouts at you. “You promise?”

“Of course! I got you.”

The brunette girl smiles at you, sniffling once more and then she lets you direct her to where to start.

It doesn’t take long to tidy up and get everything ready to start baking again. You toss the unfortunate batch of burnt chocolate cupcakes and place plastic wrap over the bowl of strawberry frosting, setting it aside since it’s the only success so far.

You help Sooyoung with the list of things she needs to grab for the chocolate cupcakes plus some extra ingredients just in case. After tidying up, you find out she has just enough of everything else for you to start the batter for the strawberry cupcakes while she’s gone.

“I shouldn’t take too long! I know the store closest to us is closed on Sundays, but there’s one like twenty minutes away so I should be back when the cupcakes are at least in the oven!”

You’re making sure you have everything in front of you that you need to prepare the batter so you nod, agreeing with her and saying goodbye. Once Sooyoung is gone, your borrowed apron is tied, you play some music on your phone, humming along, lost in your own baking world.

“If I had known there’d be a cute girl in my kitchen, I would’ve come out here to help a while ago.”

Jeonghan’s voice from the doorway makes you jump. You’d just added together the wet and dry ingredients and the sudden intrusion nearly makes you jump out of your skin.

You offer a wave as he and Mingyu file into the kitchen with Jeonghan coming to stand behind you.

“Well, your sister needed help and you didn’t come to offer a hand.” You hum, feeling Jeonghan’s hand ghosting over your hips and thighs.

“Yeah, but I’d much rather help you.”

“But what if I don’t need any help?” you shoot back, glancing over your other shoulder, seeing Mingyu hovering over the bowl of strawberry frosting on the kitchen island.

“Hmm, well I don’t know about that… It looks like you might need some help here.” As he speaks, his nimble fingers trail to the front of your jeans, ghosting over your covered crotch.

“Jeonghan,” you warn, “I have to get this batter in the oven while Sooyoung is gone. She’s gonna expect them to be baking.”

Normally, Jeonghan’s silky soft voice and skilled hands has your clothes off of you in no time. You and he had fallen into an unspoken kind-of friends with benefits thing. You don’t really talk for leisure over the phone or anything, save for a few flirty texts sometimes when you post something he likes online, but most of your communication is in person when you’re with Sooyoung or with each other’s tongues in your mouths when it’s just the two of you.

Sooyoung doesn’t know that you’ve been fucking her brother for the last two months, mostly because you don’t know how to even approach the subject. Plus, it’s just casual fun that you and Jeonghan have. It’s not like you’re dating or anything.

That’s not to say you wouldn’t date Jeonghan, but that’s an entirely other conversation to be had and feelings to unearth that you’d prefer to stay buried until that’s something you have the energy to dive into. For now, casually fucking him whenever you can will suffice.

“Hey, I’m not stopping you. Keep doing what you’re doing.” His voice is low, a smirk quirking at the corners as he places feather light kisses on your neck. His hands land on your hips, lightly squeezing as he brings the front of his body flush with you.

As best as you can, you finish adding everything to the bowl, grabbing the whisk a few inches away from you and starting to combine all of the ingredients. It proves to be more difficult than you thought when Jeonghan starts nibbling at the skin at the base of your neck, pulling your sweater collar aside to get to it.

A soft, breathy sound slips out of you when he bites down, the bowl almost falling out of your hand as you tilt it to get a better angle. Luckily it doesn’t, but you do spill some of the batter on the counter.

“Oops. You better be careful not to make a mess, sweetheart.”

He’s playing so dirty by dropping a pet name, and it immediately has your stomach clenching. Jeonghan reaches over you, his finger scooping up the splattered batter. He brings it up to your lips, waiting.

He doesn’t have to wait long, your mouth opening and the digit eagerly dipping inside, landing on your tongue. You close your lips and suck, eyes slipping closed both at the taste and the gesture itself.

“Good girl,” Jeonghan whispers and it takes everything in you not to turn and fall to your knees in front of him right then.

You and Jeonghan are lost in each other, you still lightly suckling on his finger while he peppers the side of your neck with kisses again.

“Um,” a third voice clears from behind you both and your eyes shoot open, letting go of Jeonghan’s finger. You had completely forgotten that Mingyu was less than a foot away.

You straighten up, focusing on the task at hand again, whisking the sweet concoction and trying to calm your wild heartbeat.

Jeonghan turns to Mingyu with an eyebrow raised, both hands resting on your hips. “What’s up?”

Mingyu lets out a nervous chuckle, hand moving up to push back his dark locks. “I mean… Bro, I’m standing right here.”

“So?” Jeonghan challenges. “What’s a little fun amongst friends? I’m always down for fun. What about you baby, do you like to have fun?” The latter part is for you, your eyes darting over your shoulder to Jeonghan, to Mingyu, then back to Jeonghan.

Is…is he saying what you think he's saying? Is he proposing you hook up with him and Mingyu? You don’t want to say it out loud, scared you’re reading the room incorrectly. You hold Jeonghan’s gaze for a few seconds, his smile softening just a little and eyes twinkling as he blinks.

“Y-yeah. I like to have fun.”

“See!” Jeonghan immediately says, reaching out to pinch your waist. “Baby is always so nice to me and she’ll also be nice to my friend.” A shiver runs through you at his words and it takes real work and concentration to focus on making sure you don’t fling cupcake batter all over.

Jeonghan uses the beat of silence in the room and your concentration on your work as an opportunity.

Soft hands are back at your waist, rubbing and squeezing lightly before his fingers practically dance to the front of your jeans. He plays with your zipper for a few seconds before pulling the metal down and easily undoing the button.

You can’t help the way your breath catches in your throat when he slips his hand into your pants, fingers immediately finding your covered clit. A squeak comes out of you as Jeonghan applies light, casual pressure, humming in satisfaction. Your mixing is paused as you close your eyes, relishing in the slow, meticulous circles he makes.

“Make sure you concentrate, sweetheart. Didn’t you say you have to finish this by the time my sister comes back?” His tone is teasing and he chuckles at the way you flinch when he reminds you that you’re on a timer.

It takes all of your resolve, but you do hone in on the bowl in front of you, finally deeming it smooth enough to be baked.

Jeonghan’s fingers stay pressed on the outside of your underwear, but he gives you enough room to reach over to grab at the cupcake pans that have been greased and sat waiting nearby.

Mingyu is now standing closer than before, not close enough to touch, but close enough that his eyes can see where Jeonghan’s hand is.

With shaking hands, you begin pouring the batter into the cupcake slots. It’s truly a feat as his fingers are still working at you. The task suddenly becomes almost impossible when said fingers finally slip into your panties, slender digits rubbing against your already wet folds.

A yelp comes from you which makes Jeonghan coo at you. “Look at you, baby. Already wet just from some teasing.”

“I - it’s your fault,” you manage to sigh out, faux annoyance in your words which Jeonghan already knows is a front.

“Not my fault you want my fingers inside you so bad. That is what you want, isn’t it?” His lips ghost over your neck again and you feel him hover so close to your entrance, but not actually making a move to enter you.

“Fuck, you know it is, Hannie.”

Jeonghan grins ear to ear - you only bring out his nickname when he’s making you feel good.

“Wanna hear you say it, baby.” The tip of his finger is right there - all he needs to do is crook his finger and he’ll push his way into your hole.

“Hannie,” you beg, “please, please, please put your fingers in me? I need you,” The words are breathy and your hands have stopped working, gripping the half empty bowl as you await his next move.

“Since you used your manners and said please, I suppose I can. Just make sure you finish your batter,” his hair tickles your neck as he leans down to kiss your neck again and he finally slips a finger into your pussy.

“A-ahhh!” You let out a breathy moan as he finally gives you what you want, immediately pulling you closer to his chest while you pour the batter, every single inch of your brain struggling not to fuck it up.

When you finally get the cupcake pan filled, Jeonghan has slipped two fingers into your cunt, his fingers working you slowly, the sounds of your own wetness mixes with the music you still have playing on your phone in the background.

“Hannie,” you breathe out, eyes fluttering closed as he finds your g-spot, massaging it with gentle strokes.

“Yes, baby?”

“I - the oven. I need to p-put these in,” the sentence is a struggle and Jeonghan chuckles, loving the way you go almost braindead when he’s touching you.

Jeonghan slips his fingers out of you and you whimper at the loss. He finally backs away, allowing you room to open the oven. Everything is quiet save for your music and your rapid breathing.

Once the mini cakes are in, the timer is set, and oven mitts are placed aside, Jeonghan strikes.

He spins you around, letting your ass hit the counter as he cups your face and leans in to kiss you finally. Soft lips work expertly over yours, drawing little sighs out of you. Jeonghan’s an excellent kisser, in addition to an amazing lay, so kissing him always sets your body alight. His hands eventually drift from your face, one inching up to the back of your neck to wrap around the base while the other slips down and behind you to grab a handful of your ass, pulling your body flush against his. You can already feel his half-hard erection poking against you and you clench your thighs together.

You and Jeonghan make out sloppily, the kiss nothing but teeth and tongue and little noises you both make. Eventually, he pulls away, both of you panting. He turns his head and gestures for Mingyu to come closer.

You shamelessly eye the very tall and very wide man that approaches. His black long-sleeved shirt hugs his chest in a sinful way and his loose fitting pants do very little to hide his obvious arousal.

“Mingyu already knows that we sometimes like to spend time together. I figured that since we’re all here and we have a little time, you can show him just how good you can be. I think you want to anyway.” Jeonghan pulls you away from the counter and maneuvers you into Mingyu’s surprised hold.

His arms wrap around your middle, loosely hanging there but making no move to let you go. Your hands land on his chest and you can’t hold back from squeezing the firm muscle underneath. He blinks down at you, eyes boring into yours in mild shock. He effortlessly recovers from his shock of suddenly having you in his hold, a smirk replacing the ‘o’ shape his mouth had taken.

“I’d love to actually,” you whisper out finally, gulping audibly when you finally catch a whiff of Mingyu’s warm cologne. “But your sister is only going to the store for a few things so we don’t have time.”

As if forgetting that you’re only this close because of her absence, Jeonghan pauses next to you, and feels the pockets of his sweats for his phone.

“Damn, I think I left my phone in my room. What time is it?”

“Check my phone,” you jerk your head towards the counter, directing him to where your phone lays charging a few inches away. You’re still leaning against Mingyu’s firm chest as the man rubs circles into your lower back that have your knees feeling like jelly at just how warm and gentle and big his hands are.

Your eyes are staring at his lips as he looks between yours and your eyes. It’s clear you’re both wanting to do something but are waiting for an update on the timing you have.

“Well will you look at that,” Jeonghan starts as he looks at your phone. He brings it to you, showing you a notification on your lock screen from Sooyoung. The words start with ‘I fucking hate traffic…”

Reluctantly you move one hand from Mingyu’s chest to take your phone and unlock it.

Sure enough, when you get to the messages, there’s a few texts from Sooyoung, complaining about traffic and an accident that’s taking so long she hasn’t even made it halfway to the store yet.

You send a few texts back and forth and she says she isn’t sure how long it’ll take to get there and back now, but she’s not going to give up. You reply that the cupcakes are in the oven now so everything is still on track and encourage her not to let the traffic win. You remind her of her boyfriend whom she’s doing all this for and how happy he’ll be to receive handmade edible gifts from her. You think it’ll give you enough time.

You make sure your ringer is turned on and tell her to update you along her journey and she agrees. Handing your phone back to Jeonghan, you fill him and Mingyu in on Sooyoung’s current location and the status of the trip.

“So…what does she think, she’ll take more than half an hour?” Mingyu speaks up, finally uttering more than a few words.

“Probably,” you guess, both hands now back, firmly planted on the man.

“If you ask me, I think that’s enough time for some fun,” Jeonghan offers, fingers playing with the tie on the back of your apron.

“I think you’re right,” you agree. It’s all you need to say before both men start to move.

Mingyu finally leans down and captures your lips in a rough kiss. His tongue immediately darts out, licking at your lips, begging for entrance. You allow him in, his tongue plunging into your mouth to taste every part of you.

Behind you, Jeonghan manages to untie your apron as his hands move to the waistband of your jeans and easily slide them down your legs. His fingers, a little cold, trace the front of your panties before he’s yanking those down too and helping you step out of them. Your body jumps at the sensation of being exposed like this, but Mingyu moves from your lips to your neck and that’s what your attention is diverted to.

Jeonghan’s hands caress your ass, kneading and handling your cheeks slowly but roughly.

“Sorry, Gyu, but I need to see her,” he warns before pulling you away from Mingyu and turning you so you can lean your upper body on the counter.

You let out a yelp at both the sudden turn and at the fact that you’re bent over the kitchen counter, naked ass and cunt on full display for them.

“Fuck,” Mingyu hisses before you feel a hand land a surprising smack on your ass.

“Right? She’s already fucking glistening, isn’t she,” Jeonghan agrees and you can’t help the embarrassment that heats up your spine, knowing your wetness is evident and being observed. There’s a moment of shuffling before you feel soft hands on you again, pushing apart your legs more. “Can you make room for me, sweetheart? Gotta show Gyu how good you look.” Of course you oblige, opening as wide as is comfortable and resting more on the counter.

“Just like that,” Jeonghan praises before he goes in, sinking two fingers back into you, a small, but audible whoosh of air is heard from both men.

Jeonghan, having been between your legs numerous times at this point, knows exactly where to apply pressure and the angle to piston his fingers to have you a moaning mess in his hands.

“Mmph, fuck, Jeonghan!” You can’t help the yell of his name, your knees shaking as he fucks you faster with his fingers. His other hand brushes upward, over your ass and up your spine until it wraps around the back of your neck. He applies the lightest of pressure to the sides of your neck then pushes you down, making your ass poke out more to make his actions more visible to himself and Mingyu.

“Fucking hell,” Mingyu breathes from next to you. When you can manage to lift your head and turn, your drooping eyes see him, hand shoved into his pants, pumping back and forth under the fabric.

Biting your lip, you manage to gesture him over to you with the flick of your hand. Mingyu doesn’t need to be told twice as he scurries next to you, within arm’s length. It’s not the easiest position, but you manage to reach out and shove your hand into his pants. You immediately find his generous length and you wrap your hand around it, squeezing a few times before jerking him off. You worry that your pace is too slow, but the way that Mingyu’s head falls back has you rethinking that. He lets out a low groan as you work him, one hand resting on the counter and the other reaching up to grasp at his own hair.

You marvel at him, this tall, hot man that’s scrunching up his face and biting his lip because of the way your hand moves over his dick.

Wanting to redirect your attention back to him, Jeonghan picks up the pace and eases a third finger into you, his other hand finally snaking around you to press hard against your swollen clit.

“Ah-ah! J-Jeonghan, please.”

“Hmmm?” he hums, already knowing what you want.

“Faster, please. ‘M gonna cum!” He makes a noise of acknowledgement and the movements on your bundle of nerves become harder.

“I guess I’ll let you cum. You’ve been good so far, especially helping Mingyu out with his problem.” His words sound sweet, but you also know if this was just you and him and you had more time, he’d still be teasing you until you cry. That’s not the case now though, as Jeonghan takes a moment to readjust the angle of his hand before he’s driving his fingers in and out of you with all of his force while his other hand still busies itself with your swollen clit.

Your grip on Mingyu’s dick falters, your eyes fluttering closed again as Jeonghan works to push you closer to the edge. Without missing a beat, Mingyu’s hand rests over yours, guiding you up and down his length which seems just as good as you doing it on your own.

Mingyu’s moans match yours in frequency, both high pitched and breathy. “J-Jeonghan, just like that, shit! Fuck!” When you finally cum, your face rests against the tile, yelps echoing in your own ears. Mingyu lets your hand go to allow you to grip the counter top, trying to keep your balance.

Jeonghan, being who he usually is when you’re together, doesn’t immediately let up his actions, fingers still tapping at your sensitive bud a few more times before you’re whining even more and attempting to close your legs.

With a snicker, he finally pulls back, sighing loudly as he dramatically licks his fingers.

“So fucking good as always.”

“Yeah?” Mingyu quips, his eyes locked in on your swollen folds, wet with your release.

“Yeah, you should have a taste too, Gyu.”

You don’t even get a chance to ask the time or check your phone, which is what you thought about doing first, because Mingyu’s got your hips in his grasp and turns you around. Your wide eyes stare at him and you think that he has to look just as ruined as you feel.

“Would you mind if I get a taste of you, babydoll?” Something about the way the pet name rolls off Mingyu’s tongue sends a whole other sensation rocketing through you.

You breathe out a ‘yes,’ and Mingyu immediately uses his strength to lift you quickly from around your waist.

“Mingyu!” you squeal, arms wrapping around his neck as he carries you to the kitchen island and places you down as if you weigh nothing. He winks at you before he’s sliding down to his knees and opening your thighs.

He lets out a low whistle which you want to ask the meaning of, but you don’t get a chance as he surges forward, wrapping his lips around your still sensitive clit.

He suckles the nub a few times as you whine above him before diving his tongue into your entrance. He wastes no time eating you out more frantically than you think even Jeonghan has. Within no time you’re a moaning mess, head rolling back and body both trying to run from his talented mouth and trying to push yourself closer. He keeps his hands positioned on your thighs, gripping you so that even when you try and flinch away, he can still direct you back to his mouth.

He makes small grunts from below you, some of satisfaction, but most are just from getting lost in you: sounds of pleasure as his tongue darts in and out of your entrance, his lips latched onto your lower ones. It feels as though he’s got his entire face buried between your legs, his mouth damn near enveloping your entire pussy. His tongue is stiff as it darts in and out of you, rubbing against your walls and licking every inch of you that he possibly can.

Your eyes are closed, but you still hear the soft sound of Jeonghan’s footsteps moving closer. “Fuck, baby I didn’t know how hot it’d be to see you get eaten out. Wish I had my phone right now to remember this.”

Somewhere in your foggy brain, you register his words and glare at him. Or at least you think it’s a glare - it’s hard to tell when you can barely keep your eyes open.

Either way, the older man gets the intention, chuckling and raising his hands. “Yeah, yeah I won’t.” His eyes sweep over your body, leaning forward to ease the apron from around your head, followed by your sweater and your bra.

Sitting completely naked on your best friend’s kitchen counter is the last place you thought you’d be today, yet here you are. Mingyu’s grunts between your legs can be felt through every part of your body, your next orgasm on the horizon.

“M - Mingyu! Fuck, ‘m gonna cum again!”

The man clearly hears you, making a sound of acknowledgement before his tongue moves up to suck hard on your clit. Two thick fingers slip easily into your twitching hole, moving fast and in time with his wild tongue.

Jeonghan grunts at the sight, his own pants now at his knees as he fists his cock, watching your body twitch and jerk. His eyes lock onto your tits, nipples hard and inviting and he almost leans forward to capture one in his mouth when his eyes suddenly dart to the bowl of frosting not too far from you all.

He’s reaching for it and taking the plastic off. He at least has enough decorum to grab a big spoon from a nearby drawer, scooping a hearty amount out. He takes a small dollop on one finger and reaches forward to smear it over one of your nipples.

The sensation catches you off guard as your eyes fly open to look, being met with Jeonghan’s almost cat-like grin. You don’t even get a chance to question his actions or scold him for dipping into the frosting before he’s leaning in, tongue lazily circling your areola and gingerly scraping his teeth over your nipple.

A single suckle follows and that’s all it takes for you to lock your thighs around Mingyu’s head, arching your back and letting out a long moan as you cum suddenly. Your eyes cross as the pleasure washes over you, letting yourself slump backwards on the counter, head hanging off as Mingyu snuffles against your skin and laps at your folds, cleaning up your release.

“Fucking shit,” Mingyu huffs when he finally decides to come up for air. “That was so fucking hot, you’re so fucking hot. And you taste amazing.”

You wheeze out a thanks, Jeonghan’s laugh ringing in your ears is the most evil yet sexiest thing you hear over your own breathing.

“Speaking of taste…” he trails off and doesn’t say anything else before you feel him on your other nipple and you jolt, head raising to look at him. He swirls another dollop of frosting on you, gesturing to Mingyu. The taller man doesn’t even question it as he leans down to pop your tit into his mouth.

“Oh!” you gasp as his tongue swirls around your nipple, moving round in a circle before sucking. Even when the frosting is gone, he stays latched to your chest and you’re squirming underneath him. Jeonghan attaches his mouth to your other side, smearing frosting from your nipple and up your breast, all the way to your collarbone. His tongue cleans up your nipple before his tongue is licking up, up, up to clean the sticky sugar off of you.

Mingyu sits up, letting go of your tit with a wet pop and reaches to grab the spoon of frosting from Jeonghan. He takes a glob and you watch as he draws a shape on your chest and sternum, mind too scrambled from Jeonghan’s licks to tell what it is. When Mingyu is satisfied with what he’s done, he gives you a once over with wide, blown out eyes and then his hungry mouth is on your skin again, cleaning up the mess he made on you slowly and deliberately. He makes sure his teeth scrape every inch of sensitive skin on you as he goes, ending right back at your swollen nipple.

You’re nothing but pants and cries and whimpers as both men do more of the same. Taking turns covering your chest in frosting then licking it off.

Between the heat of the oven and the heat of their mouths and hands that grip your thighs and hips, you’re feeling dizzy and are convinced you’re now dripping onto the tile underneath your body.

Somewhere in the distance you hear your phone ding, eyes snapping open at the possibility that it’s Sooyoung.

“My phone!” You squeak out, wriggling under their holds.

Jeonghan releases your abused skin, heavy lidded eyes look you over before he quickly turns to grab your phone.

“Looks like my sister is at the store. Says she shouldn’t take long and that the accident was clearing up as she finally made it through so she should be home pretty soon.”

Jeonghan reacts to his sister’s message with a thumbs up and rejoins you and his friend.

“Please, need you, one of you, both of you, just someone,” you plead to them. Between your desire to be fucked and the fact that the countdown is on until your best friend will be coming home, you don’t care who does it as long as one of them gets inside you.

“Normally, I’d make you beg for me more and make you wait, but we are in a time crunch,” Jeonghan agrees, looking over your trembling form. “Where do you want us?”

“Don’t care,” you sigh out when Mingyu finally pulls his puffy lips off of you.

He and Jeonghan share a look, clearly deciding who will go where. Just knowing that the two men are having a silent conversation as to which one of them will do what to your body has your thighs rubbing together in clear anticipation. Jeonghan glances at you, smirking at your movements before he’s moving around the island, laying your head back to hang off of it again.

“Here’s what we’ll do, Mingyu will stuff that needy pussy of yours since he’s my guest. Think you can handle sucking me off while he does?”

“Fuck, yes,” you nod eagerly the best you can from your angle, senses tingling at the idea of a new position you’ve never done. “Need something under my neck though,” Jeonghan leaves your side for a moment to grab what looks like his sweatpants. He rolls the fabric up and places it under your head and shoulders for support. Jeongha’s hands caress your face and shoulders, watching as Mingyu gets into position between your legs.

Knowing time is of the essence at this point, strong hands run down your thighs, settling behind your knees to spread them more. You soon fill the blunt, large tip of Mingyu’s dick nudge your entrance and you shudder.

He rubs the bulbous head against your folds, nudging your clit once before slathering himself in your juices and bringing it back to your entrance.

“Ready, babydoll?” he asks, readjusting his hold on the back of your knees.

“Yes, please!” The words barely leave your mouth before Mingyu is pushing in, inch by girthy inch, stretching you slowly as he goes.

“Shit, you’re still so tight,” he mumbles through gritted teeth as he goes slower and slower until he’s finally nestled between your silky walls and his pelvis is almost flush with the back of your thighs.

“She always is, no matter how many times I get her to cum for me,” Jeonghan marvels, eyes locked on where you and Mingyu are joined. He watches as Mingyu pulls back, cock sliding almost all the way out before slamming his hips, pushing a true scream out of your pretty lips. His friend wastes no time in building a fast-pace, sending your body jerking back and forth on the counter so hard, your hands raise above your head for something to find purchase on.

That something turns out to be Jeonghan’s thighs as he moves closer into your space. He helps you ease your head back until it drops back off the edge and he’s standing right in front of your face.

“Open up for me, sweetheart,” he coos down at you and you do as he says, mouth falling open in a loud moan as Mingyu’s cock hits a spot deep inside of you. Jeonghan’s dick, long, curved, and as pretty as the rest of him, eases into your mouth.

Mingyu slows down enough for Jeonghan to comfortably settle in your mouth, giving a few short thrusts. Both men curse under their breaths when they listen to the gagging sound that comes out of you as Jeonghan’s length hits the back of your throat.

“Tap my thigh twice if it’s too much, okay baby?” Jeonghan says to you and you tap his thigh once to let him know you heard him. “Good girl. Gonna fuck this pretty little mouth now, okay?” Your response is muffled, but it's affirmative and that’s all Jeonghan needs to begin moving his hips, the tip of his dick hitting the back of your throat again and again with slow, languid thrusts. The deliberate pace allows you to steady your breathing and shut your eyes to concentrate on taking him.

Soon enough, his thrusts are faster and Mingyu takes this as his cue to resume his movements as well. He doesn’t start as frantic as he did when he first slid into you, but his thrusts are so deep, you can also feel him in your chest. His dick is as big as the rest of him and you’re made aware of that as he stretches every inch of your walls to mold around him.

As soon as both men hear your whines around Jeongha’s length, they look at each other, nodding with a silent understanding of how they’ll fuck you together.

Mingyu’s pace goes from casual to anything but as he begins to drive his hips into yours again. His fingers dig into your hips as he fucks you, keeping you pinned in place as he does to keep you from sliding from the force.

Jeonghan’s gentle hands rest on either side of your head, stroking your cheeks carefully as he fucks your mouth, eyes falling closed as he does.

Your body feels like it’s on fire with both the sensation of your pussy and your mouth being used by both men. Your eyes stay wrenched closed tightly as you seesaw between them, back and forth, back and forth. Your ears can only pick up the wet squelches of your spit around Jeonghan’s cock and the sharp slap of Mingyu’s muscular thighs hitting the back of yours. He still has your legs up and open, pressing himself into you as far as he physically can.

“Fuck, your mouth is fucking heaven, baby,” Jeonghan grunts as he drives his dick back and forth between your lips. He watches the drool pool around your mouth and drip down your face. He thinks he sees tears prick at your lash line too and the sight is nearly enough to have him explode right on the spot, but he holds back, wanting you to cum first.

Mingyu lets out a string of curses as he buries himself deeper, eyes fixated on the sight of his cock disappearing and reappearing in you, covered in a white ring of both of your juices. His eyes slide over to the bowl of frosting, still sitting on the counter and he reaches over, scooping more out to rub on your chest again. His pace falters a little as he leans over your body to lick you clean again and you let out a long, drawn out moan around Jeonghan as his red hot tongue licks fire across your sensitive skin.

Jeonghan follows his lead, but instead of covering you in the pink, sticky sweetness, he pulls his dick out of your mouth and smears it on your lips and down his dick instead.

“Baby didn’t get to taste it,” he murmurs so low that it sounds as if he’s almost talking to himself. When he slides himself back into your mouth, the sugary sweet flavor mixes with the heavy, salty taste of his precum and you excitedly accept as he plunges all the way down your throat. You relax and relish in the broken, almost desperate cry that he lets out when you swallow around him. “Shit! Just like that, sweetheart. You’re so fucking good to me,” You preen under the praise and do it again, only getting sidetracked up when Mingyu snaps his hips particularly hard as the same time that he bites down on one of your nipples.

A choked squeal is heard around Jeonghan’s length and both men feel their ends fast approaching.

“Fucking hell, babydoll. You close?” Mingyu asks against your sticky skin, biting and sucking at any of you that he can get his mouth on.

“Mmhmm!” you attempt to answer, which you can before Jeonghan’s dick is obstructing your airway again.

They hear you, though, and both reach out to make you cum first. Mingyu’s fingers toy with your clit, the pad of his thumb digging in to rub harsh circles as Jeonghan’s hot digits wrap around one of your nipples, tugging and pinching.

Your body jumps at the dual sensations, the feelings quickly becoming too much when paired with the sheer fullness you feel on both ends and in every fiber of your being. You feel yourself start to twitch harder, your hands still on Jeonghan’s thighs gripping him tighter as your nails dig into his skin. He hisses above you, all of you hearing the ding from your phone across the room which can only mean Sooyoung is on her way home.

The thought only lingers for a moment before Mingyu gives you a thrust that is just the perfect amount of pressure against your sensitive walls to have your back arching, a yell of what sounds like his name garbles out of you around Jeonghan’s length. The vibrations from your sounds are like a switch for Jeonghan, his body reacting immediately to yours and the way you swallow him almost all the way down as you cry out and cum.

He snaps his hips once more before he’s releasing, cumming down your throat then pulling out, some of his release spurting onto your lips, chin, and neck. You don’t even seem to notice, your eyes open but your attention elsewhere as Mingyu continues bullying his cock into your hypersensitive pussy.

Mingyu cums last, pulling out of your messy folds with a whine. He strokes himself once, twice, and then he’s cumming hard, his release spurting onto your thighs, painting your sweaty skin in white warmth.

The three of you slump in silence, breathing heavily as you clear your heads and get a grip. You feel something prodding your leg and with a heavy head, you manage to lift far enough to see Mingyu rubbing his softening length in the mess he made on your thigh. Clearing your throat to get his attention, he snaps his eyes up to you and stops, smiling sheepishly.

“Sorry,” he coughs. “It’s just…that was so fucking hot,” he repeats again and you can’t help but nod.

“Yeah,” you croak, making both of the men snicker at you. You reach a hand back weakly to swat at Jeonghan who dodges your half-assed attack.

“Here, let's get you cleaned up while we have time,” he says, glancing at the timer above the oven. Your cupcakes have ten minutes left and if he had to estimate, it would take that time plus a little longer before his sister gets home. He and Mingyu both help you sit up with Mingyu grabbing your hands to pull and Jeonghan cradling your head and neck to lift you up. Your joints groan in protest, but you manage to sit up.

Jeonghan moves to grab a paper towel, wetting it with warm water before he’s in front of you, wiping his drying spunk off of your face. Mingyu does the same, and cleans up what’s dried on your thigh.

“Ugh, I feel like I have to take a shower,” you sigh, aware of the uncomfortable sensation on the rest of your skin. Dried spit from both men along with remnants of the now useless pink frosting still smatter over you and you crinkle your nose.

“If you want, you can take a shower and I’ll keep an eye on the oven,” Jeonghan offers as he and Mingyu help you stand on shaky legs. The two of them gather their pants and your clothes as you lean against the counter slowly regaining strength in your body.

“Taking a random shower doesn’t seem suspicious to you?” you question, raising an eyebrow as you gesture to your phone, which Mingyu grabs to hand to you.

“If Sooyoung gets home, we can just say you got stuff on your clothes and you had to shower. I have extra clothes on me you can wear when you get out.” Mingyu offers.

“Yeah, and we’ll even throw your clothes in the washer real quick and she’ll never know!” Jeonghan looks around the kitchen before grabbing the now infamous bowl of strawberry frosting. He stares at it hard before eyeing the kitchen floor and tossing the bowl with enough force to shatter when it hits the floor.

“Jeonghan, what the fuck?!” you scream, flinching at the sound of glass breaking.

“I’ll tell her I knocked the bowl over, it broke, got all over you and now you’re showering. Plus, the frosting was dirty anyway now,” he shrugs, a smile playing on the corners of his lips. Part of you is annoyed at the prospect of having to put more work in to recreate the frosting which was the only part of the whole baking process that turned out successful. “When you’re out, Gyu and I will even help you guys so you’re done quicker.” At his suggestion, you quirk an eyebrow at him. “Okay, well mostly Gyu will help, but I’ll help clean up and do little shit or whatever, okay?”

“Deal,” you decide finally, glancing at your phone. Sooyoung will likely be more than halfway home at this point so you don’t have time to think of another plan.

The three of you split up then. You head for the bathroom to shower while Mingyu starts to clean up the bowl and the frosting from the floor. Jeonghan takes your clothes to the washing machine to start the load, then grabs some clothes from Mingyu’s overnight bag in his room for you to change into.

By the time you’re clean, washed, and in Mingyu’s oversized shorts and t-shirt, you can hear Sooyoung in the kitchen.

When you round the corner into the kitchen, three sets of eyes fix on you and Sooyoung rushes over to you. “Y/n, are you okay?! These two morons told me what they did!”

“Yeah, I’m okay. No injuries to report.” You give her a small smile, ignoring the wiggle of Jeonghan’s eyebrows behind her.

“Good. I feel so bad. If you want you don’t have to help anymore. I’ve already taken up your Sunday and forced you over here to work for free and now my idiot brother has ruined your clothes.”

“I’m literally right here,” Jeoghan reminds his sister as he finishes laying out the groceries she brought home.

“Yeah, unfortunately,” Sooyoung grumps, rolling her eyes.

“No, really it’s okay. I’m happy to help and besides, you didn’t ruin my Sunday at all, I promise!” She has no idea how true that statement is, but you manage to reassure her and she eventually nods, believing you, but still saying you can leave at any time.

You set to work helping her begin the batch of chocolate cupcakes as she works on making more strawberry frosting. You truly don’t mind helping, especially if that means you get to share sneaky glances and secret touches with Jeonghan. Today has been anything but a lazy Sunday, but you can’t say you mind too much.

[3amfanfiction]

Our Girlfriend pt 3

Based loosely off of this reblog, i loved the artwork and the first drawing made me think of Johnny stuffing his cheeks with the muffins. so i had to write about him bringing the muffins into work that morning. 1k snippet that technically happens before part one, enjoy!

Part One || Part Two

To say that Johnny had a pep in his step on his way to work was putting it mildly.

In his bag was proof. Proof that you were falling for the guys just as much as they've been falling for you. He was whistling on his way into down the hall to the rec room, the sound bouncing off the cinder-blocked walls and echoing back to him with every step.

Throwing open the door he was greeted with an empty room. That was okay. He'd just wait for the others to get there and then he'd share the good news. It's not like he was vibrating out of his skin in excitement or anything.

Pulling out a chair, he took a seat at the table and pulled out one of the muffins. Biting into it, he couldn't control his groan of delight. How did you always manage to make them taste so good? He's watched you bake them before, knew you didn't put any special ingredients in, so why were they always so delicious?

The muffin was gone within four gigantic bites, nothing but the limp liner remaining and even that had been scraped clean as best it could. Balling it up he tossed it into the trashcan and settled back in to wait. Why were the rest of them taking so long.

Five minutes later saw him staring at the bag with a furrowed brow. He shouldn't touch the other muffins. They weren't his, they were for the rest of the team. They were your muffins that you gave to them. He shouldn't.

But he did.

It started with just one. His reasoning that he could give the two remaining to the first two in the room and promise double muffins tomorrow for whoever missed out. That would work.

With a plan firmly in place, the second muffin soon met its fate. He tried to slow down, really savor this one but it was a struggle. This forbidden muffin. Honestly it was the other's fault for not being on time. If they would've been here he would have already passed out the treats and this wouldn't have even been an issue. In fact, it was only right that the last person in shouldn't get a muffin. They should've been here when they were supposed to be if they really wanted one.

Making peace with himself he enjoyed the last few bites of goodness and the second wrapper was quickly discarded.

How long had it been? He looked at the clock but couldn't remember the exact time he'd gotten in. He knew it'd been at least 15 minutes though. His foot bounced as he fidgeted with his phone, sending a cute gif off your way before pocketing it once more.

Back to waiting.

Seriously, did the team get called out on a mission and they just forgot to tell him?

This was ridiculous.

It was with annoyance that he bit into the third muffin. If they thought they could just leave him here with no repercussions then that was on them. Now only the first person in the door would be getting a muffin. The other two would have to wait. And he might not even give them one depending on how long they took. It served them right for making him sit here all by himself. They knew he didn't do good with the quiet.

He had just shoved the last bite of the third muffin into his mouth when the door opened behind him. He swung around with a glare just to see the other three all walking in together.

"Why do you look like you want to murder us?" Kyle asked with a laugh, pushing to reach the table first and sit down, knocking a foot against Johnny's in greeting. "You're never the first one in, what got you up so early?"

With the reminder Johnny beamed.

"My lass sent you muffins!" He mumbled around his mouthful, reaching into the bag to pull the last one out and set it on the table. He swallowed the rest of his bite, "She let me know this morning that she was thinking about you all and she wanted to make sure you had something to help get you through the day."

With the air of someone imparting a great secret he dropped his voice. "You know, she's really warmed up to you three. She asks how you're doing and worries about you. She's been begging for you to come over," he thinks back to you mentioning how you'd love to meet his teammates. You'd made your wishes well known—and he was able to read between the lines.

With a non-committal hum Price looked down at the singular muffin sitting on the table, a piece pinched off by both Simon and Kyle already. "I thought you said muffins. Where's the rest?"

It didn't take more than a glance at Johnny's innocent face to know exactly what happened. Looking over into the nearby trashcan only confirmed it. Three balled up wrappers sitting innocently on top of the trash.

"An extra lap of PT for each muffin you ate, sergeant," he sighed before walking over and swiping the remaining treat that the other two were silently arguing over. Kyle gave an affable hum and leaned over to start picking at Johnny but Simon turned to look at the captain with a frown.

"You two got a piece, the rest is mine."

Furrowed brows.

"I don't have to share with you."

A tilted chin.

"Damn it, I'm the captain and if I want the muffin then I get the muffin."

That finally got a grunt of disappointment out of the stoic man who turned watch Kyle in his quest to tease Johnny for eating their muffins. Kyle was poking at Johnny's cheeks, pointing out a bit of missed pastry.

"Dinner tonight?" Price asked, frowning in thought at Johnny's eager nod as he swatted Kyle's hand away. "I'll try but I don't know if I'll be able to get away. I've got a full day ahead of me."

Kyle left off teasing Johnny and jumped up from the table as Price started to walk back towards his office, jogging to catch up to him. The two remaining men could hear him offering to help speed things along. Another pair of hands to quicken the work.

Turning to look at Simon as they turned the corner, Johnny offered, "Dinner tonight, LT?"

A single, silent nod was all the response he was given but Johnny's face lit up like a sunrise. His favorite people were finally coming together, what more could he want?

[harryspurpleloofah]

Just next door

Summary: the guy who just moved in next door invited Y/N over for coffee and she saw a sex toy. Him hearing her touch herself later that day evolves into phone sex

Warnings: swearing, female and male masturbation, fingering, phone sex, guided masturbation, mentions of reader hearing moans from Harry’s apartment while he hooks up with someone, I think like a tiny bit of swearing?

The warm scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the small apartment as Y/N set two steaming mugs on the table near the window. Across from her, Clara perched eagerly on a chair, her fingers drumming against the ceramic mug in her hands.

“You’re not going to believe this,” Clara said, leaning forward like she was about to deliver life-changing news.

Y/N arched a brow. “What? Did someone steal your parking spot again?”

Clara shook her head, a grin already tugging at her lips. “No, it’s way better. I was coming up the stairs earlier, and guess who I saw?”

“Unless it’s Freddie Mercury, I’m not guessing,” Y/N replied dryly, taking a sip from her cup.

“A man,” Clara said, her grin growing wider. “A hot man. Like, ridiculously hot. And he was moving boxes into the apartment right next to yours.”

That got Y/N’s attention. She straightened slightly, setting her cup down. “The apartment next door? The one that’s been empty like…forever?”

“Exactly!” Clara practically squealed. “And let me just tell you, this guy is no ordinary neighbor. He’s tall, has this messy, curly hair, and..oh my God—he was wearing a sleeveless shirt while carrying all those boxes. His arms, Y/N. His arms. I swear they look like they belong in a museum.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, though a flicker of curiosity was in her. “Sounds like someone’s trying to show off.”

“Um, if you had arms like that, wouldn’t you?” Clara quipped. “He’s a walking thirst trap, I’m telling you. You should bake him cookies or something, just so I have an excuse to come back and see him again.”

“Yeah right,” Y/N scoffed. “The last thing I need is to deal with a cocky neighbor who probably spends more time flexing in mirrors than unpacking his boxes.”

Clara snorted, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “Don’t write him off just yet. You haven’t even met him. What if he’s sweet? Or mysterious? Or—”

“Or obnoxious,” Y/N interrupted. “Or loud. Or the kind of guy who blasts terrible music at all hours.”

“Or the kind of guy who’s so hot you won’t care,” Clara shot back.

Y/N shook her head, laughing softly. “Let’s just hope he keeps to himself and doesn’t cause any trouble.”

Y/N was halfway through folding laundry on the couch when she heard a knock at the door. Her brows furrowed as she glanced at the clock—7:30 p.m. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Clara had left hours ago, and most of her neighbors preferred to keep to themselves.

She padded over to the door and opened it. There he was.

The first thing she noticed was the curls—a messy tumble of dark brown waves that framed his face just right. Then her eyes caught on the white T-shirt stretched across his chest and the tattoos that peeked out along his arms, ink twisting down his skin like art in motion. He had a lazy, easy smile, the kind that could disarm anyone without trying.

“Hey,” he said, his voice warm, slightly raspy. “Sorry to bother you. I’m Harry—just moved in next door.”

Y/N blinked, forcing herself to recover. Of course, he’s stupidly attractive, she thought, Clara’s earlier words ringing in her ears.

“Oh,” she said quickly, gripping the edge of the door. “Hi. Welcome, I guess.”

His smile widened a bit, his dimples appearing. “Thanks. Umm, I hate to be that guy, but do you happen to have a screwdriver I could borrow? I can’t find mine in all the boxes, and my bookshelf is dangerously close to collapsing on me.”

She hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not she wanted to prolong this interaction. But then she caught the faintest trace of hope in his eyes, like he wasn’t entirely sure she’d help. That, and the hint of an accent lacing his words, made it hard to say no.

“Yeah, I think I’ve got one. Hold on a second.”

She left the door slightly ajar as she went to the kitchen drawer, rummaging around until she found the toolkit. When she came back, Harry was leaning casually against the doorframe, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans.

“Here,” she said, holding out the screwdriver. “You can just bring it back whenever you’re done.”

He took it, his fingers brushing against hers briefly. “Thanks. Lifesaver.” He paused, tilting his head slightly as if studying her. “I didn’t catch your name.”

“Y/N,” she said, trying to keep her tone neutral.

“Well, Y/N,” he said, his smile turning just a touch more charming. “I owe you one. First favor in the books already. You’re making it hard for me to be a bad neighbor.”

She couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out, even as she tried to suppress it. “Let’s see how long that lasts.”

He grinned, taking a step back toward his door. “I guess we’ll see. Thanks again, Y/N.”

And just like that, he was gone, leaving her standing in the doorway with a slight flush creeping up her neck and an unfamiliar warmth buzzing in her chest.

A month later, the café was buzzing with quiet chatter as Y/N stirred her iced coffee, the clinking of the ice against the glass the only sound between her and Clara for the moment. Across the small table, Clara was mid-bite of her sandwich, but the look in her eyes told Y/N she was just waiting for the right moment to drop something.

“What?” Y/N finally asked, narrowing her eyes.

Clara grinned, swallowing quickly before leaning forward. “Nothing. Just…how are things with your very hot neighbor?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, though she felt the faintest blush creep up her neck. “They’re fine. He borrowed a screwdriver the other day. That’s the extent of our interactions.”

She smiles, “Well when I pulled into the lot, your new neighbor..Harry, right? He was coming back from a run.”

Y/N looked up, her fork hovering in the air. “A run?”

“Uh-huh,” Clara confirmed, grinning now. “And let me tell you, it was a sight to behold. He was wearing these black running shorts and a tank top, and he was like, glistening in all the right places. I swear it was like watching one of those slow-motion workout montages in a movie.”

Y/N groaned, dropping her fork onto her plate. “Clara.”

“What?” Clara said innocently, though the glint in her eye betrayed her. “I’m just saying, the man has no business looking like that while casually jogging. And he looked so…relaxed about it, like he didn’t even realize every living being with eyes was staring at him.”

Y/N took a sip of her iced coffee, trying to hide the heat creeping up her neck. “Okay, you’re being dramatic.”

“Oh, am I?” Clara shot back, crossing her arms. “Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. The guy looks like he walked straight out of a Calvin Klein ad. How are you living next door to that and still functioning?”

“He’s just being neighborly.”

“Neighborly, my ass,” Clara said with a snort. “If he comes knocking again, you better invite him in for more than a tool. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Clara!” Y/N yelled.

“What?” Clara said with an exaggerated shrug. “I’m just looking out for you. If I had a neighbor like that, I wouldn’t waste a second.”

Shaking her head, Y/N stabbed at her meal, hoping to steer the conversation elsewhere. But Clara’s words lingered, teasing at the edges of her thoughts.

Because as much as she hated to admit it, there was something about Harry that made her wonder just how long she could keep pretending not to notice.

Lunch wrapped up soon with banter, but as the pair strolled back toward Y/N’s apartment, Clara looped her arm through Y/N’s, still buzzing with energy.

“So,” Clara said, bumping her shoulder. “What’s the plan for the rest of the day? Because I don’t know about you, but I’m not ready to go home yet.”

Y/N smiled, unlocking the door to the building and holding it open for Clara. “What are you saying? You want to stick around and steal all my food again?”

“Obviously,” Clara replied with a grin. “Your popcorn is better than mine, and you know it. Besides, it’s been ages since we had a proper movie night. You’ve been sooo busy.”

Y/N rolled her eyes as they made their way up the stairs. “I’ve barely been busy. You’re just dramatic.”

“Whatever you say,” Clara said breezily. “So…movies? Wine? Popcorn?”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Okay, fine. But you’re in charge of picking the movies this time. If I pick, you’ll just complain the whole time and then end up watching them anyway.”

“Fair point,” Clara said, shrugging. “Alright, deal. I’ll find something good.”

They reached Y/N’s apartment, and as she unlocked the door and pushed it open, she glanced over her shoulder. “Just don’t pick anything sappy, alright? I’m not in the mood for tearjerkers.”

She opened the cabinet where she kept the popcorn. “Butter or kettle corn?”

“Both,” Clara said, plopping onto the couch and grabbing a pillow. “Oh, and maybe I’ll grab a blanket in case it gets cold. Can’t be too prepared.”

Y/N smiled. Clara’s energy was infectious, and as much as she liked having her space, she was glad for the company.

“Alright, movie marathon it is,” Y/N said, grabbing a bottle of wine from the counter.

As the familiar hum of the TV filled the room and the scent of freshly popped popcorn wafted through the air, Y/N couldn’t help but smile. Despite Clara’s endless teasing, she was glad for the distraction.

Soon Y/N and Clara were sprawled on the couch, surrounded by empty bowls of popcorn and half-finished glasses of wine. The action movie Clara had insisted on watching blared from the speakers, explosions and dramatic one-liners filling the space.

Y/N shifted under her blanket, stifling a yawn, when Clara suddenly sat up straighter, her head tilting to the side.

“Wait,” Clara said, holding up a hand to shush Y/N.

“What?” Y/N asked, frowning as she paused mid-sip of her wine.

Clara’s eyes narrowed, her expression a mix of confusion and amusement. “Do you hear that?”

Y/N froze, listening. For a second, there was nothing but the sound of the movie. But then, faintly, she heard it—a muffled rhythm, like the creak of a bedframe, punctuated by soft, indistinct noises.

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Oh shit.”

Clara’s mouth dropped open, and she slapped a hand over it to stifle a laugh. “Oh my God,” she whispered, leaning toward Y/N. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Shh!” Y/N hissed. Clara ignored her, pointing toward the wall that separated Y/N’s apartment from Harry’s. “It’s coming from his place, isn’t it? Your neighbor?”

“I don’t know,” Y/N muttered, gripping her glass a little too tightly.

But Clara wasn’t letting it go. She reached for the remote, pausing the movie mid-explosion. The silence that followed was deafening, except it wasn’t really silent at all. The noises became clearer without the distraction of the TV, and there was no mistaking it now. A low, breathy moan filtered through the thin walls, followed by another creak of the bed.

Clara gasped, her eyes wide with delight. “It is him!” she whispered dramatically.

“Do you think it’s…like, a one-time thing?” Clara whispered, barely able to keep a straight face.

“I don’t want to think about it at all,” Y/N whispered back, sinking deeper into the couch and covering her ears.

Clara grinned, clearly reveling in Y/N’s discomfort. “I mean, hey, at least you know he’s good at something. Not that you’ll ever find out, of course.”

Y/N grabbed a throw pillow and smacked Clara with it, eliciting a loud laugh. “Shut up!”

The next morning, Clara had left at about 9 AM and now Y/N had just settled on the couch with a mug of coffee when a knock at the door startled her. Setting the mug down, she padded over to open it, her heart skipping a beat when she saw who was standing there. Harry.

He was leaning against the doorframe, holding her screwdriver in one hand. His curls were disheveled, and there were faint shadows under his eyes. He looked as though he hadn’t slept at all, but somehow he still managed to pull it off in a way that was unfairly attractive.

“Morning,” he said, his voice low and scratchy, like he hadn’t used it much yet. “Thought I’d return this before I forgot.”

“Oh, thanks,” Y/N said, taking the screwdriver from him. She hesitated for a second, her eyes scanning his face. “You okay? You look… tired.”

He chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, you could say that. Had a bit of a rough night.”

She leaned against the doorframe, curious despite herself. “Oh? Something happen?”

Harry hesitated, his lips twitching in what might’ve been embarrassment or amusement. “Let’s just say I had one too many drinks… and some questionable company.”

Y/N blinked, her stomach doing a strange little flip. “Oh.”

He gave a dry laugh, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s not exactly my proudest moment. Went out to blow off some steam, ended up bringing someone back. She left early this morning, and now I’m regretting pretty much everything about it.”

Y/N tried to ignore the sudden tightness in her chest. It wasn’t her business..he was an adult, and hookups happened. But still, the thought of someone else being with him, hearing those same soft, raspy tones directed at them, made her stomach twist uncomfortably.

“Well,” she said, keeping her tone light, “I guess everyone has those nights, right?”

Harry smiled faintly, leaning against the doorframe. “Guess so. Just…doesn’t feel great, y’know? She was nice enough, but it was all a bit…empty.”

Y/N tilted her head, surprised by his honesty. There was something raw about the way he said it, like he wasn’t just brushing it off as a joke or a casual story.

Harry chuckled, a low, warm sound that sent a tiny flutter through her chest. “Lesson learned,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not exactly my proudest decision. I guess I was just…blowing off steam, y’know?”

Y/N tilted her head, curious. “Rough week?”

He hesitated, leaning against the doorframe. “Something like that. Moving’s been a bit of a whirlwind, and… I don’t know. I guess I’m still getting used to being here. New city, new place, no familiar faces. It’s a bit… lonely.”

Her expression softened. “I get that. Moving can be tough. When I first moved here, I didn’t know anyone either. It took me ages to feel like this place was actually home.”

He smiled faintly. “Yeah? What changed?”

“I don’t know. I guess I just…let myself settle in. Met a few people, got into a routine. Eventually, it started to feel right.” She paused, feeling a pang of sympathy. “You’ll get there. It just takes time.”

Harry’s eyes met hers, and for a moment, the air between them felt heavier, more intimate. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

Y/N cleared her throat, suddenly aware of how close they were standing. “Anyway, you should probably get some coffee if you’re running on no sleep. It might help.”

He smirked, tilting his head. “You offering?”

She managed to keep her voice steady. “Sure, if you don’t mind instant coffee and a very stubborn coffee machine.”

Harry laughed softly. “Instant coffee sounds like heaven right now.”

“Well, come in then,” she said, stepping back and gesturing for him to enter. “It’s the least I can do after you brought back my screwdriver.”

The apartment was warm and filled with the lingering scent of fresh coffee. Harry glanced around, his gaze landing on the cozy setup in the living room. “Nice place,” he said.

“Thanks,” Y/N replied, heading into the kitchen. “Make yourself at home. I’ll get the coffee started.”

As she fiddled with the coffee machine, Harry leaned casually against the counter, watching her with an easy smile. “You’re sure I’m not interrupting anything? I don’t want to mess up your morning.”

“You’re not interrupting,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at him. “It’s nice to have some company, actually. Most mornings it’s just me and my to-do list.”

Harry chuckled. “Sounds thrilling.”

“Oh, it’s the height of excitement,” she deadpanned, pressing the button on the coffee machine—only for nothing to happen. She frowned, pressing it again. Still nothing.

“Uh-oh,” Harry said, stepping closer. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“Yeah definitely not.”

“Is if broken?”

“I think so,”

He smiled softly, “No worries we can go to mine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. Besides, I really need that coffee.”

Harry’s apartment felt like stepping into a place that was truly lived in..a home, not just a space. The walls were painted a soft, warm cream, and natural light poured through sheer curtains, casting golden streaks across the wooden floors. Potted plants thrived in every corner, adding bursts of green to the room. A woven throw rug lay beneath a large, overstuffed couch that was piled with mismatched cushions, some knitted, others patterned with earthy tones.

The coffee table was a mix of practicality and personality, a stack of books with worn spines, an old mug filled with pens, and a half-melted candle that smelled faintly of cedar and citrus.

In one corner, a record player sat atop a weathered wooden stand, surrounded by a scattering of vinyls leaning casually against the wall. Above it hung a cluster of Polaroid photos strung on twine with tiny wooden clips, each one capturing moments of laughter, travel, and faces Y/N didn’t recognize but instantly envied.

The kitchen blended seamlessly into the living space, its counters lined with signs of use: a ceramic bowl of fruit, a drying rack with a couple of dishes, and a cheerful tea towel hanging over the edge of the sink. The faint scent of fresh coffee wafted through the air as Harry stood at the counter, pouring steaming liquid into two mismatched mugs.

“You’ve got a really cozy place,” Y/N said, her voice soft as she took it all in.

Harry glanced over his shoulder with a small grin. “Thanks. Took me a while to get it feeling right. Guess I’m a sucker for a homey vibe.”

“You nailed it,” she said, her gaze drifting again.

She wandered over to a small shelf tucked beside the couch. It was cluttered in the best way…books stacked horizontally and vertically, a framed photo of what looked like Harry and his family standing on a windswept beach, and a small globe with the paint chipped in a few places. Everything about it felt warm and personal, like every item had a story.

“You can sit if you want,” Harry called out, his voice easy and light. “Promise I won’t be offended if you don’t want to stand awkwardly in the middle of the room.”

Y/N smiled. “I’m fine. Just…looking.”

She continued her slow circle, her eyes catching on a door slightly ajar at the end of the short hallway. The bedroom, she guessed, though she quickly looked away, not wanting to seem like she was prying.

But then, as her gaze traveled to the other side of the room, something caught her attention.

It was on the floor by the edge of the couch, partially hidden beneath the throw blanket that had slipped off the armrest. At first, she thought it was just a random object—a stray remote or maybe some kind of gadget, but as she stepped a little closer, her stomach flipped.

A sleek, unmistakable shape came into view. It was a vibrator.

Small and simple, but undeniably there, lying just slightly out of place amidst the cozy, domestic warmth of his apartment. Her heart skipped a beat, and she quickly looked away, her face burning. Had he seen her notice it? Did he even realize it was there?

“You okay over there?” Harry’s voice broke through her spiraling thoughts, and she turned to see him leaning against the counter, a mug in each hand, his expression amused.

“Fine!” she said quickly, her voice a little higher than usual. She walked toward him, hoping he didn’t notice her awkwardness. “Just…admiring your plant collection. They’re very..healthy.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it but too polite to push. “Well, thanks. They get all the credit. I just water them and hope for the best.”

As he handed her a mug, their fingers brushed briefly, and Y/N swore she felt a spark. She took a sip, letting the warmth of the coffee ground her as she avoided glancing back toward the couch.

But no matter how hard she tried, the image of the toy was burned into her mind, along with the unwelcome but undeniable thought of Harry using it on someone.

“So,” Harry said, oblivious to her spiraling thoughts, “tell me about yourself, Y/N. What do you do for fun when you’re not rescuing broken coffee machines or lending out screwdrivers?”

Y/N forced a smile, hoping he couldn’t see the pink still dusting her cheeks. “Oh, you know. The usual. Reading, bingeing bad TV, trying to keep my plants alive…” She trailed off, her voice softening as she met his eyes. “Nothing as interesting as this place, though.”

Harry shrugged, his lips quirking up in that easy, lopsided grin. “Guess it depends on your definition of interesting. My life’s not as exciting as it might look.”

Harry followed her line of sight, his brows furrowing in confusion at first. But then his eyes landed on the object partially hidden beneath the blanket on the couch, and his expression changed instantly.

“Oh, shit,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “You, uh…you saw that, didn’t you?”

Y/N’s face flushed, and she quickly looked away, trying to pretend like she wasn’t dying of embarrassment. “Yeah, I did.”

“Damn,” Harry said, his voice soft with a mix of awkwardness and apology. He stepped around the counter, closing some of the space between them. “I didn’t realize—I mean, I should’ve—I didn’t know it was just sitting there. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Y/N said quickly, waving a hand as if to dismiss it. She could feel the heat crawling up her neck and cheeks, and she desperately wanted to escape the situation before it got any more mortifying. “Seriously, it’s not a big deal. I wasn’t—”

“Still,” Harry interrupted, running a hand through his hair. “That’s…not exactly something you want to stumble across when you’re just trying to have a cup of coffee.”

She laughed nervously, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “It’s fine, Harry. I promise.”

For a moment, he hesitated, his green eyes searching her face like he wasn’t sure if he should drop the subject or keep apologizing. Then he sighed, shaking his head.

“This is so embarrassing,” he muttered, a small, sheepish grin tugging at the corner of his lips. “I swear I’m not like having sex 24/7. It just…happens to be there, and I didn’t think—”

“Harry, seriously,” Y/N cut him off, her voice firmer this time. “It’s fine. You don’t have to explain yourself.”

She glanced toward the door, her heart still racing, and gave him a tight smile. “I should probably get going, though. I’ve, uh, got some stuff to do.”

Harry’s smile faded, and for a second, something flickered in his expression—disappointment, maybe? But he quickly masked it, nodding as he stepped back to give her space.

“Yeah, of course,” he said, his tone light and casual, though it didn’t quite match the look in his eyes. “Thanks for, you know, not freaking out.”

She smiled faintly, already moving toward the door. “It’s not a big deal. Really.”

He walked her to the door, his hands shoved into his pockets as they reached the threshold.

“Well,” he said, leaning against the frame, “thanks for the company. Even if I managed to completely ruin it.”

“You didn’t ruin it,” Y/N said, her smile softening. “It was…nice.”

Harry tilted his head slightly, his grin returning, though it was smaller this time. “Good to know.”

She hesitated for half a second before giving him a quick wave and slipping out into the hallway. As the door closed behind her, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, her heart still pounding.

Y/N leaned back against the headboard of her bed, her room dimly lit by the soft glow of her bedside lamp. The book she’d been trying to read lay forgotten in her lap, her mind betraying her with images of Harry—standing in his kitchen, the sleeves of his T-shirt stretched over his toned arms, that damn crooked smile on his face.

Her face burned just thinking about him, but no matter how hard she tried to shake it, the memory of the vibrator on his couch kept flashing in her mind. She bit her lip, her fingers idly tracing the edge of the blanket draped across her lap.

It was reckless, she knew that. But the way he’d looked at her earlier..the way his green eyes had lingered, the way his voice had dipped when he said her name, it had left her feeling more restless than she wanted to admit.

Her hand slid lower, beneath the blanket, her breath catching as her fingers grazed her skin. She closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the fantasy. She pictured him leaning over her, his lips brushing against her ear, his voice low and teasing as he murmured her name.

“Harry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, but the sound sent a shiver through her body.

On the other side of the wall, Harry froze. Their rooms must be back to back because he could now hear faint moans of Y/N.

He had just stepped out of his shower, towel slung around his hips, when the faint sound reached his ears. At first, he thought he was imagining things, but then it came again, soft, breathless, unmistakable. His name.

From Y/N’s apartment.

He stood there for a moment, completely still, his damp hair dripping onto his bare shoulders as he listened. The sound came again, and this time, there was no mistaking the hushed moan that followed.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered under his breath, his heart pounding.

It wasn’t intentional..he hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. But now that he’d heard it, he couldn’t bring himself to walk away. The wall separating their apartments was thin enough to carry the faintest sounds, and the realization sent heat rushing through his body.

He leaned back against the wall, torn between guilt and an intense, undeniable arousal. He should stop. He knew he should stop. But the sound of her soft, needy gasps of her whispering his name was doing things to him that he couldn’t ignore.

Inside her apartment, Y/N was oblivious, completely lost in her own world. Her breathing quickened, her movements becoming more urgent as she pushed two fingers in and out of her pussy and imagined his hands on her, his lips trailing down her neck, his voice rumbling in her ear as he told her exactly what he wanted to do to her.

“Harry,” she whimpered again, her body trembling as she edged closer to cumming.

He shouldn’t call her. He knew that. It was crossing a line, stepping into territory they hadn’t even begun to discuss. But the memory of her soft gasps, the thought of her lying in her bed, touching herself while thinking about him…

It was too much.

With a low groan, he grabbed his phone and scrolled to her name in his contacts. His thumb hovered over the call button for a second before he muttered, “fuck it,” and pressed it.

The phone rang once. Twice.

“Harry?” Y/N’s voice was soft, hesitant, and he could hear the slight tremor in it, like she wasn’t sure why he was calling.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and rough. “Did I wake you?”

“No, I was…I’m awake,” she said quickly, though there was something breathless about her tone that told him she hadn’t quite recovered from what she’d been doing.

He let out a quiet laugh, leaning back against the couch. “Good. Because we need to talk.”

There was a pause, and he could almost feel her tension through the line. “About what?”

“About what I just heard,” he said, his voice dipping lower, more serious.

The silence that followed was deafening.

“Oh my God,” Y/N finally said, her voice barely audible. “You heard that?”

“I did,” Harry admitted, his lips curving into a small smile despite himself. “Walls are thin, love.”

She groaned, and he could hear the embarrassment in the sound. “Harry, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think—”

“Don’t apologize,” he interrupted, his tone firm but gentle. “I’m not mad. Not at all.”

“But—”

“Y/N,” he said, cutting her off again. “Listen to me. You don’t need to be embarrassed, okay? I’m not judging you.”

She didn’t respond, but he could hear her breathing on the other end of the line…quick, shallow, and uneven.

“Are you still in bed?” he asked, his voice softening.

“…yes,” she admitted after a moment.

“Good,” he said, leaning his head back against the couch. “Stay there for me.”

“Harry…”

“You were saying my name,” he continued, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Weren’t you?”

Her breath hitched, and he smiled, knowing he’d caught her.

“I—”

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his tone soothing but commanding. “You don’t have to lie. I liked it, Y/N. Hearing you like that…knowing you were thinking about me…”

Her breathing quickened, and he could almost picture her lying there, her cheeks flushed, her body tense with anticipation.

“Harry,” she said again, her voice a mix of nerves and something else..something needier.

“Let me help you,” he said, his hand drifting down to his cock as he spoke. “Let me show you how good it can feel. Can I do that?”

There was a long pause, and for a moment, he thought she might say no. But then she whispered, “Okay.”

“Good girl,” he said, his voice like velvet. The words sent a thrill through him as much as they did her, and he couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face.

“Are you touching yourself right now?” he asked, his tone low and deliberate.

“No,” she admitted, her voice shaking slightly.

“Then start,” he said. “Slide your hand down, just like you were doing before.”

He waited, his own hand slipping below as he imagined her doing exactly what he’d asked.

“Touch your clit,” he murmured, his tone thick with heat. “I want to hear you as you feel the warmth of your own touch.”

Y/N hesitated for a moment, her body still trembling from the intensity of their conversation. But his voice was like a magnet, drawing her in, and before she knew it, her fingers were moving against her skin, tentative at first, then more sure of themselves as she followed his instructions.

“Good,” Harry whispered, his voice growing rougher. “Now, gently slide your fingers in and out, slowly. Feel every fucking inch.” “Good girl,” he murmured, his words sending a thrill through her. “Just like that. You’re so good for me, Y/N. I can hear how much you’re enjoying this.”

“Now add a third finger for me.”

She did as she was told, she let out a slightly louder moan this time.

“That’s it baby just like that. I know you can handle it. Otherwise you wouldn’t be so desperate for my cock would you? How are you gonna take it all for me if you can’t even take three of your own fingers? That would just be pathetic.”

She breathes out as she fingers herself deeper, just trying to forget theyre her own and imagining his ringed ones instead. “Harry..”

“That’s right love just like that,”, he started moving his hand up and down his own cock, holding back moans. “You wanna come over to my apartment tomorrow? So I can actually fuck you good?”

She barely even comprehends what he’s saying with the feeling of being stuffed with three fingers, win the reassurance that soon it would be even more filling than that with his dick. All she can muster is a soft hum of affirmation.

“Yes or no?”

“Y-yeah of course. Just text me what time.”

He sighs, adjusting himself to get more comfortable as he feels the orgasm coming. “I will. I’ll use that same vibrator on you then will you like that?”

“H-”

“And trust me it wasn’t the only thing I have at my house. I have a whole drawer you can have. Pick anything you want out of it tomorrow yeah, baby?”

“Yes Harry, fuck-oh god I’m cumming.”

“Just like that baby.”

Harry almost cums instantly as he hears her moans and then her clamming down afterwards, her breath heavy. And soon enough he does, groaning himself as the hot ropes shoot out of his cock to the towel now underneath him.

After everything settled into quiet, Harry’s voice, still thick with desire, came through once more.

“Good girl,” he murmured, and she could hear the satisfaction in his tone. “You did so well.” His words lingered in her ear, and she could feel the warmth of his praise seeping into her skin.

Y/N’s breath was still uneven as she slowly, hesitantly, lifted her fingers to her lips. “Lick them for me, love,” Harry coaxed, his voice soothing but laced with a hint of command.

Y/N hesitated for a moment, the request sending a shiver down her spine, but the sound of his voice, so commanding yet affectionate, left no room for doubt. Slowly, her fingers moved to her lips, her tongue darting out to meet them, and as she did, a soft gasp left her mouth.

“Good girl,” Harry said, the words slipping out in a near whisper. “So good for me. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

The promise of tomorrow hung in the air between them, leaving her pulse racing, her thoughts swirling with the anticipation of what was to come.

“I’ll make sure we have a good time, baby,” Harry reassured her, his tone still warm and low. “You deserve it. You’re perfect.”

Y/N let out a quiet sigh of contentment, still basking in the afterglow of everything they’d just shared, and though she felt a lingering desire, she could also feel the weight of satisfaction in the quiet moment.

“I should let you go now,” Harry said, his voice now gentle, as if sensing her need to breathe. “But tomorrow, we’ll have all the time we need.”

“Goodnight, Harry,” Y/N said softly, her voice barely a whisper.

“Goodnight, love,” he replied, his voice lingering in her ear as if he was right there with her. “Sleep well.”

The call ended, leaving Y/N with a soft smile on her lips, her body still buzzing from the connection they’d shared.

[svelish]

Reader owns a bakery in la and billies friend introduces her to the cafe and she meets billie when serving her and billie falls in love with her and they start dating (also reader has a british shorthair and ragdoll cats) and the media finds out and call her a gold digger ect

˚₊۶ৎ˙⋆

Los Angeles was always moving, always buzzing, but for you, the city slowed down at dawn. That was when you loved it the most—when the streets were empty, and the smell of freshly baked pastries filled the air inside Sweet Haven, your little bakery.

You never imagined your life would change because of a single customer.

It happened on a random weekday. Zoe, one of your regulars, walked in with someone new—someone you immediately recognized but tried not to react to.

Billie Eilish.

Even in an oversized hoodie and messy hair, Billie had a presence that filled the entire space. She glanced around with mild curiosity before her gaze landed on you, who stood behind the counter, wiping your hands on your apron.

"This place is dope," Billie murmured to Zoe before turning to you. "Hey. What’s good here?"

You smiled, keeping your cool. "Everything. But if you like chocolate, I’d go for the double fudge croissant."

Billie’s lips quirked up. "Sounds dangerous. I’ll take one."

That was the first visit. The first of many.

Billie started coming in every day, sometimes alone, sometimes with Zoe. At first, you thought it was just because she liked the pastries, but then Billie started lingering. Sitting at the counter. Stealing bits of cookie dough when she thought no one was looking. Flirting—subtly, but definitely flirting.

You tried to ignore the growing tension between them, but Billie made it impossible.

Then, one night, after closing, Billie knocked on your apartment door.

When you let her in, Billie shoved her hands into her pockets and said, "I wanna take you out. Like... an actual date. Not just here."

You raised an eyebrow. "You could have texted me that."

"Yeah, but then I wouldn’t get to see your face when you say yes."

And that was how it started.

Dating Billie was like being caught in a whirlwind. Some nights, they went on late-night drives, blasting music down empty streets. Other nights, they stayed in, Billie sprawled on your couch while your cats Mochi and Cloud used Billie as their personal bed.

Billie was different in private. Softer. Less guarded.

She loved the fact that you treated her like a person, not a superstar. That you didn’t care about her fame, didn’t ask for pictures, didn’t try to use her name to boost your business.

Everything was perfect.

Until it wasn’t.

One morning, you woke up to chaos.

Your phone was flooded with messages. Your bakery’s Instagram was a mess—full of comments, some sweet, but most... cruel.

"Gold digger."

"She’s only using Billie for clout."

"She’s a nobody. Why would Billie date her?"

And worse? Paparazzi started showing up at your bakery.

Your employees were overwhelmed. Customers were being questioned. It was no longer just your relationship being scrutinized—it was your entire life.

You tried to keep it together, but one night, after another wave of reporters swarmed outside, you sat on your couch, hugging your knees, Mochi purring beside you as if he knew you needed comfort.

Billie showed up a few minutes later, looking furious.

"I swear, I’m gonna find out who started this," she muttered, pacing the living room.

"Billie," You said softly.

Billie stopped, looking at you.

You swallowed. "Maybe… maybe we should take a step back."

Billie’s expression darkened. "Are you breaking up with me?"

"No, I just…" you sighed, rubbing your temples. "I don’t know if I can handle this. The cameras. The hate. I love my bakery. I love my normal life. And now, everything feels…" You trailed off, voice breaking.

Billie crouched in front of her, taking your hands in hers. "Baby. Look at me."

You did.

Billie’s voice was low, steady. "I don’t care what people say. I care about you. And if you need space, I’ll give you space. But don’t push me away because of them."

You exhaled shakily. "I just… I don’t want you to have to defend me all the time."

Billie cupped your face, thumbs brushing against your cheek. "I will always defend you."

Billie didn’t let it slide. The next morning, she went on Instagram Live, looking directly into the camera.

"I don’t usually do this," she said, voice sharp, "but I’m pissed. The shit people are saying about Y/N is straight-up disgusting. She’s not using me. She’s not after my money. She’s literally the most hardworking person I know. Y’all need to get a grip."

It didn’t make the hate go away completely, but it changed the narrative. Fans started supporting you. Defending you. Even some news outlets corrected themselves.

More importantly, Billie never left your side.

A few weeks later, Billie walked into Sweet Haven like usual, but this time, she wore one of your bakery aprons.

You looked up from the register, amused. "What are you doing?"

Billie grinned. "Helping out. Gotta make sure my girl’s business is thriving."

"You can’t even make coffee."

"Then teach me." Billie leaned on the counter, smirking. "I learn best when you’re close."

You rolled her eyes but smiled.

The world could say whatever it wanted. The cameras, the gossip, the headlines—none of it mattered.

Because at the end of the day, Billie was still here. And she wasn’t going anywhere.

[put-me-through-the-wall]

Girl Next Door

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x reader

Word count: 1.8k

Summary: Simon is a simple man who doesn't ask for much. Just a bit of peace to come home to. When suddenly you pop in to interrupt his tranquility. Maybe he doesn't completely hate it...

A/N: This is fluff if you squint. Slow burn?? This will probably just be part one if y'all dig the concept. Let me know what you think.

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Simon loves sitting on his balcony in the evening. He loved it before his new neighbor moved in. He wasn't the type to be overly concerned about the actions of other tenants. If someone was too loud, he'd just turn up the television. Banging from upstairs, he'd play some music. Smoking pot outside, that's fine he smokes cigarettes. And he was never one to meddle in others personal lives. He sought sanctuary in his alone time. 

While unlocking his front door one day he couldn't ignore the soft grunting coming from down the hallway behind him. He turns to see someone coming out of the stairwell with a box so big he can only make out a pair of hands on the sides and little legs coming out the bottom. He watched as you waddled all the way to the door right next to his own. You drop the box with a huff, leaning forward on the cardboard to catch your breath. 

"Hi neighbor," you greet between pants. You're wearing some baggy clothes and a beat up baseball cap, wide eyes staring up at him from under its brim. Just a hint of sweat speckling your temples. "Sorry for the noise, I promise I'm not a normally noisy person." you smile. 

"Hope not," he grunts and enters his own residence. Closing the door firmly without a second look. 

𝜗𝜚

The next day while he's drinking his morning coffee and going through his emails he is disturbed by a politely quiet knock on the door. When he looks through the peephole he sees you again. This time with your hair down, wearing a sundress. Looking a lot more put together. You're holding a tray in your hands. He opens the door but does not release the door chain, leaving only a crack in the door to reveal himself.

"Can I help you," he grumbles in a flat tone.

"Hey neighbor!" You don't let the small allowance of space dampen your spirit or at least you don't show it. "I made some cookies. I'd like to think it's good luck to christen a new place by making something sweet in it. The recipe ended up making way more than I planned for so I figured it would be the neighborly thing to do to offer you some." You give your brightest smile hoping to win him over. 

"I don't like sweets," he states.

"Oh, really? I thought everyone liked sweets..." Your shoulders slump the smallest bit as you pause for a moment in thought. "Well, I've got a baked ziti in the oven. It should be ready in about thirty minutes. I could pop by and drop off some when it's done, if you'd like?"

"Yeah, no thanks." He doesn't allow you to respond when he closes the door in your face. Simon is a distrustful man by nature and he won't let a sweet girl with a tray of goodies change that. They did smell really good though. He can't help himself when he looks through his peephole to watch you leave. You let out a defeated sigh and shuffle back to your apartment next door. 

𝜗𝜚

A few days later he runs into you again. He steps into the elevator, presses the button for the lobby, when he hears a familiar voice calling. 

"Wait, hold the elevator please!" You shout down the hallway. You jog towards the lift, trying to get your purse on your shoulder with one hand while balancing your phone, keys, and a travel mug in the other. Your jacket is only half on and the straps on your shoes are undone. Simon groans under his breath but, out of a second of sympathy, he holds his arm out to block the doors from closing. 

"Thank you," you say breathlessly and duck underneath his outstretched arm. "I'm a running little behind this morning." 

"No problem." His eyes remain forward, watching the doors slide shut as the two of you start descending. You finish putting on your jacket and run your fingers to settle your frazzled hair. 

"Can you hold this for a second?" 

"Uh.." He doesn't get a chance to answer when you're thrusting your warm cup into his hands. He watches as you shove your phone and keys into your purse then bend down to finish buckling the straps on your shoes. Unbothered when your skirt rides up your leg exposing your upper thigh. 

You stand back up, straightening your blouse. "Thanks again" You take the cup back allowing him to shove his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "Hey, I'm sorry if I came off as strong the other day."

"It's fine"

"I'm not the best with first impressions." He doesn't respond so you continue. "I didn't mean to intrude either. I'm sure you're a very busy man. Me too, I'm pretty busy with work and stuff. I write for the paper. Well, I am writing the cooking column right now but I'm hoping to get bumped up soon. Maybe something like crime would be cool. What about you? What do you do for work?"

The elevator's ding signals you've arrived at the lobby. As the doors open Simon turns to his head slowly to look at you and nods towards the open doors. 

"Ladies first" 

He wasn't fooled by your clumsy persona, he could feel an ulterior motive in you. He watched as you sauntered off. You are much more professional now, as you pull out a pair of sunglasses and slide them on. He watched the way your hips swayed in your tight skirt. You looked over your shoulder and smiled sweetly at him. Simon waits until you're pushing open the glass paneled double doors before he heads out of the lift himself. 

As you make it onto the city sidewalk, a man runs right into you, causing your coffee to spill down the front of your shirt. You gasp as the hot liquid splashes onto your freshly ironed blouse and down your chest. The man hardly pauses before redirecting around you looking irritated. You spin back around with a huff and shove back into the lobby, pacing to the elevator. 

"Hold the door, please" you groan, marching back while Simon blocks the doors again, containing his laugh into a tight smirk.

𝜗𝜚

Whenever you caught a glimpse of Simon you were quick to skip over and start a conversation. Which was quite a bit. It seemed he was always running into you. The elevator, the apartment gym, while taking out trash, in the parking garage, as he unlocks his door. Most of the conversation being one sided. He was starting to learn more about your life, all the information against his will, of course. 

You were a recipe columnist, also a great cook. You liked dogs but really wanted a cat. You were a single child. You moved here to get a fresh start after a bad relationship. You don't have many friends, that one is pretty obvious.

Then one night, while Simon is trying to enjoy a smoke outside on his balcony he's disturbed by loud shouting in your apartment. Not in your usual bubbly tone, no you sounded angry. He couldn't understand the words you were saying through the glass of your patio door. Then a deep voice is shouting back at you. After a few minutes of listening to the back and forth, your front door slams and then there is stillness. The moment is interrupted when you storm onto your own balcony, slamming the glass door shut behind you.

You brace yourself on the railing edge. He watches your shoulders heave with a few heavy breaths then start to shutter. Your head falls weakly into your hands and you begin to cry. Cry hard at that, sobbing that shakes your whole body. You cover your mouth to keep yourself quiet but your pathetic whimpers still slip though. 

For a moment Simon actually feels bad for you. In fact he feels angry, angry at whoever could have made you feel that way. Sure, you could be annoying at times. Okay annoying all the time but he has never heard you say a harsh word about anyone before. He can't fathom what you could have possibly done to deserve such harshness. You are a sweet girl. He considers saying something to comfort you in some way but after another minute of watching you cry meekly into your hands he thinks maybe not. It would be better to let you be alone. His own patio door is still open, perhaps and can slip back inside with you noticing...

Then he drops his lighter. 

Your head turns sharply to the direction of the clattering plastic against the floor. You lock your watery eyes with Simon and he feels an unexpected pang in his heart. You swiftly wipe your eyes and brush your ruffled hair in place the best you can. Even in the dim lighting illuminating from the city below he can still see how flushed your cheeks have become. 

You draw in a shaky inhale before speaking. "How long have you been out here?"

"Not long," He sees your eyes flick down to the half smoked cigarette between his fingers, giving away his lie. "You want one?" He asks, unsure how to comfort you. 

"I don't smoke," then a pause. "Can I just have a bit of yours?" Your voice is so feeble it's almost a whisper. As you look at him with big round eyes and pouty lips, he can't deny your request. 

He passes the half burnt cigarette over the small stone wall separating your balconies. You're shaky fingers brush against his, careful not to drop it. You bring it to your lips to pull a slow drag. Your eyes flutter shut before you release the puff of smoke, carefully not to blow it in his direction. Simon watches the cloud drift out of your mouth, disappearing into the chilled night air. You lean on the wall connecting your balcony to Simon's. You stare down at the glowing red ember emitting a thin plume of smoke. 

"You alright?" It's him this time who breaks the silence.

"Yeah," you mumble, not lifting your gaze. 

"You sure?"

"No," you release a tired sigh. 

He waits a beat before speaking. "You told me you weren't gonna be a noisy neighbor."

A smile begins to creep onto your face. "I'm sorry, I broke my promise. How can I make it up to you?" When you look at him now, he sees a shimmer return back to your eyes. 

You pass the cigarette back over to him. It's basically down to the filter when he brings it to his own lips and takes a final drag, blowing the smoke between the two of you. It disperses around your features while you watch him. He stubs it out in an ashtray on his little patio table. The cool night dries his chapped mouth. He licks his lips and tastes an unfamiliar cherry flavoring. He looks down at the butt in his ashtray and observes the faintest red ring of lipgloss on the smushed filter. 

"You know, I could go for some baked ziti."

━━━━⊱♡⊰━━━━

Part II

Masterlist

Join the taglist here to be updated about new stories!

ﾒ𝟶

[navybrat817]

Hi lovely! Thank you so much for Valentine's day ficlets ❤️❤️❤️

Could I please have "Go ahead, lock your doors, change your phone number. I’ll still find you.” with Lee Bodecker, pwetty pwease? Thank you!!!

Oh, this man! @perdidosbucky-yyo , since you had also requested Lee.

Late Night Visitor

Pairing: Dark!Lee Bodecker x Female Reader

Summary: The sheriff pays you a visit one night.

Word Count: Over 710

Warnings: Possessive behavior, implied noncon, abuse of power, Lee Bodecker (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You were getting ready for bed when someone knocked on your door. You hadn’t invited anyone over, and it was a bit late for a surprise visitor. Grabbing your robe with a nervous breath, you tiptoed toward the front of your house. Times like this you wished you didn’t live alone. 

Maybe if you had someone looking out for you, they’d keep you safe from-

“Open up, sugar! I know you’re in there!” you heard from the other side of the door. “Ain’t polite to keep the sheriff out in the cold, so show me some hospitality and lemme in.”

You swallowed. Lee Bodecker. People either feared or respected him, or both for some. He thought he ran the town just because he had a badge, and maybe he did. 

But he never inflicted any kind of power over you. He was kind when he stopped into the diner at the same time and day every week. Used his manners with you, always left you a nice tip. So you started bringing some pie you baked from home and gave him a slice to go with his meals. You were just being polite. Nothing more.

You should’ve known he’d take your kindness as some form of courting.

“Bet you’re sweeter than any slice of pie, sugar,” he once said, lust in his eyes that he didn’t bother to hide before he tipped his hat and left.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, resting your hands against the door as if it would keep him out.

“I was hungry and wonderin’ if you had any of that pie for me to eat,” he said. Your stomach rolled as you imagined him licking his lips. “I know you bring ‘em from home just for me.”

“I was being nice,” you said, shrieking when he slammed his fist against the door.

“So was I. ‘S’why I kept them boys off your tail. Smart girl, don’t tell me you forgot?” he snarled. “Time to pay up.”

You closed your eyes. Some guys were giving you a hard time one night during an already painful shift. You mistakenly asked Lee if he could politely ask them to leave. He did. And while they didn’t care to listen to you, they shut up pretty quickly when Lee showed his gun. He made sure they all left you a nice tip, too.

“You know I’ll always take care of you, sugar,” he promised, leaving just a few moments after the group did. 

You found out the next day that Lee arrested them. Something about open alcohol containers and harrassment and resisting arrest. None of the guys around two looked at you twice anymore. You heard the whispers and saw the sneers from some of the women. Everyone thought you belonged to the sheriff.

That was the problem. You weren’t anyone’s property, and Lee would own anyone who ended up with him. That couldn’t be you.

“I didn’t forget. It’s just…” you tried to come up with an excuse. “It’s late, and I’m going to bed.”

“Just lemme in, sugar.” You froze when the door handle jiggled. The unamused chuckle that followed almost made you run. “Open the door and open them legs for me. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

You backed away when the handle jiggled again, your heart leaping to your throat. “Please, just go, or I’ll-”

“You’ll what? Call the cops? I am the law, Sugar,” he reminded you. He was right, and none of the deputies would help you. “Will you run? Hide? Go ahead! Lock your doors, change your phone number. I’ll still find you.”

You covered your mouth, but it did little to contain the scream you let out when Lee kicked the door open and stepped inside like he owned the place. You couldn’t back away or run as tears spilled over. Your body knew he was going to own you before the night was over, and you couldn’t fight even as your mind screamed.

“Makin’ me work for it? Not very nice, sugar,” he rumbled, strolling forward and gripping your arm. 

“Please…” you prayed. God wasn’t listening. Not today.

“Wasn’t gonna use the cuffs on you ‘til later,” he smirked, digging his finger in until you whimpered. “But I guess we’ll start tonight.”

Love and thanks for participating! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[whatsaninterestingplacethisis]

Cravings

Imagine

Will Smith x Latina!Reader

Synop: Will is going crazy thinking about you leading to his feelings finally bubbling over.

It was a quiet afternoon. You spent the whole day thinking about your home baked cookies. When you got home, you started to prep your special recipe.

You had Pride and Prejudice playing in the background as you mixed the ingredients and let the dough chill.

You recited the movies lines from memory as you washed the dishes. As you shut the water off, your phone pinged.

Will

Since when did you watch The Pitt without me?

Y/N

Since the episodes come out every Thursdays.

Will

I can’t believe you.

That’s our show.

Y/N

It was my show before I put you on

Will

Well it was supposed to be our show after we watched the first episode together.

Y/N

I told you, I wouldn’t wait for you to catch up

It’s a good show tho huh?

Will didn’t respond after your last message which made you laugh. Will had been your good friend for a while now. You loved having friends who could text you out of nowhere and talk about whatever is on their mind. Even silly things like this.

Will always had something silly thing to say or complain about. It gained him the nickname he despises, Silly Willy. You would always say, “you’re so silly Willy” in a mocking tone. It made you laugh always. Will would should grimace.

As you scrolled on Instagram to kill time, you heard loud knocks at your door. Engrossed in the video you were watching, you got spooked.

Cautiously you approached the door and opened it ajar. You saw Silly Willy’s blonde curls and his bland facial expression.

“What are you doing?” You asked in surprise.

He had his hands inside the pockets of his puffer jacket and shrugged.

“Can I come in?” He asked.

“I guess so.” You opened the door for him and closed it behind him. Your brows furrowed as you saw him take off his shoes and his jacket.

“Is everything okay?” You asked following him towards the living room.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?” His face concentrated on TV.

“This is the first you come over unannounced.”

“Is that rude?” He genuinely asked.

“Maybe to some people. But you’ve never done that, so I’m a bit confused. Should I be concerned?” you laughed at your half serious joke, but Will just stood still.

“Don’t think so. I’m doing fine.” He had a flat smile as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“How many times have you watched this movie?” He remembered Mr. Darcy from the previous times he had seen the movie with you.

“I’ve lost count. Probably over 10 times. Wait were you already in my building when you were texting me?”

He cleared his throat as he looked over at the kitchen, “Yeah I was. Are you baking something? It’s warm in here.”

Your brain was still puzzled as to Will’s actions but he reminded you about the cookies. “Yeah I’m about too. Chocolate chip cookies.” You walked over the fridge to put them in the oven.

“Now I know why your place was calling me over. I subconsciously knew you were baking goodness.” He leaned over the counter with a dumbfounded smile.

“So you’re here because ‘my place was subconsciously calling you over’?” Your eyes squinted at his never seen behavior. You placed the tray into the oven.

“I guess so. Weird feeling right?” He shrugged again with a smile.

“What’s weird is how you’re acting.” You scoffed a laugh turning your attention to him.

“What’s so weird about wanting to see my friend?” His tone of voice got more serious.

“That you came over without notice.” You kept your lightened mood.

“If you don’t want me here then I can leave.” He stood up straight and shrugged again.

You were taken back from his response, “That’s not what I said. I’m just- You always ask to come over-“

“And you alway say yes! So what’s the big deal?” He raised his voice ever so slightly making you widen your eyes.

You look at him with wild eyes and take a breather, “What is happening!? Is this a fight? I didn’t mean to start something. I’m just confused-“

He cuts you off before you could apologize for something that wasn’t your fault, “I’m sorry. No this isn’t a fight. At least I don’t want it to be.”

“Me neither.” You said.

“Sorry” he said.

“Me too.”

Silence took over the space, both of your eyes wandering everywhere else but each other.

“I just miss you.” He whispered.

The more he talked, the more confused you got.

“We saw each other last night.”

“I know. I just miss you more these days.”

Will was never been known as a softie. He wasn’t necessarily a jerk in public but seeing this side of him was rare.

“Will, are you sure everything’s okay? You can tell me anything.” You moved closer to him across the counter.

His head hanged low as he leaned over the counter. He laughed and shook his head slowly. He murmured something to himself that you could barely intercept.

You whispered, “Hm? I didn’t hear you.”

When his head rose, his eyes were glossy and his face blushed. He locked eyes with you, “You couldn’t have a picked any other nickname?”

“I know you don’t like Silly Willy but it’s kind of funny.” You brushed down his curls with your hand, “I mean look at you. You’re being a little bit silly.” You snickered as you kept adjusting his hair.

“What about baby?” He asked in all seriousness.

You laughed, focusing hardly at a certain difficult curl, “As what? Your nickname?” When your eyes landed back on his and he kept silent, your hand stopped.

“That’s a bit intimate, no?” You started to retreat your hand but he grabbed a hold of it. He held both of your hands on the cool counter.

“Yeah it is.” He whispered, reading your face. “Would it be so bad?”

“It’s usually used between people who are in a relationship.” You whispered back, your eyes wandering back and forth at his.

“I know that.” His breathing filled the close space between you both. “Again, would it be so bad?”

Your breathing filled the space and before you could answer, the oven beeped. Instinctively you took your hands from Will and turned to find the oven mitts.

As your mind blanked as to what drawer the mitts were in, Will stood up straight watching your back and how your shoulders rose from your deep breathing.

When you turned to the oven, Will walked around the counter, breaking the barrier between you both. You took out the cookie sheets and placed them on the stove. You admired them, truly spacing out, and slowly took off your mitts.

When you turned around, Will was right there. He hovered until you saw him. You locked eyes for a quick second before he took your face with both hands and kissed you feverishly. Your hands reached for his in shock but your hands melted and ran down his arms.

He had you against the counter deepening the kiss, wishing to feel you closer. You hummed into the kiss and pulled back for air.

It takes a second for you either of you to break the silence, “How long have you’ve been waiting for that?” You whispered.

“A very long time. I just started to go crazy up until now. I didn’t know how long I could have lasted.” He whispered back as he tucked your hair behind your ear.

“I hope I didn’t ruin things between us.” His eyes filled with worried as his thumb caressed your cheek.

“You didn’t ruin anything, baby.” You smile as you cocked your head to the side. His cheeks become pink to hear the new name.

He pulls you in for another kiss, slower this time and more intimate than the first.

“Thank you for kissing me after I took the cookies out. Because they would most definitely burnt through all this kissing.” You pecked his lips with soft kisses.

“Now that they’re out, we can kiss for however long we want.” He kissed you again, his hands exploring your waist and hips.

“Not too long. I’ve been craving them all day.” You said in between his touch.

“Not longer than I’ve been craving you.” He said close against your lips. With his eyes closed, he could feel your lips turn up into a smile.

His cheeks were flushed, his body warm, and the fresh smell of cookies filled the room. He swore he could die of happiness right there and then.

an: if anyone has any requests send them over plsss

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Even Luckier Man » Lee Bodecker

Pairings: Husband!Lee Bodecker x Wife!Reader

Summary: You tell Lee the best news when he comes home from work.

Warnings: Fluff, language, pregnant!reader, kissing, pet names

Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.

Header made by @buck-star

GIF IS NOT MINE! Gif credit goes to the creator.

Lee sighs tiredly as he walked in the house. His senses immediately picked up when he smelt something good coming from the kitchen. He followed the smell, finding a freshly baked cherry pie on the kitchen counter. Lee licks his lips and hums in satisfaction, excited to eat it. He then furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. You only make pies for Thanksgiving, Christmas, and sometimes for his birthday. It’s none of those days. What day could it be?

“Oh good! You’re home!” You exclaimed happily.

Lee turned around, greeting you with a kiss on your lips.

“Just out of curiosity, what’s with the freshly baked pie, darlin’?” Lee asks curiously.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.” You rubbed your hands against his chest. “Sit down at the table and I’ll cut you a slice.” You say sweetly.

“Yes, ma’am.” He says.

Lee went to the dining room and sat down at the table, patiently waiting for you to give him a slice of pie. You cut him a decently sized piece of pie and went to the dining room, placing the plate in front of him on the table.

“Looks amazing, sugar.” Lee compliments before taking a bite. “Oh my god! This tastes amazing!” He exclaims.

“Thank you, sweetie.” You blushed.

“I do have to ask though…” He took another bite of pie before asking his question. “What’s the occasion?” He curiously asks. “It’s not my birthday and it’s not Thanksgiving or Christmas.” He says.

You bit your bottom lip and fiddled with your fingers, trying everything in you to contain your excitement. You have extremely exciting news for your husband.

“I know.” You continued to fiddle with your fingers. “I made you a pie for a very special reason.” You say.

Lee looked at you and took another bite of pie, waiting for you to say what the special reason is.

“Let me start off by saying, you’re a lucky man.” You began.

“I’ve been a lucky man since that day I laid my eyes on your gorgeous self, darlin’.” He smiles, making you blush.

“Well, you just got even luckier.” You smiled. “You’re gonna be a daddy.” You tell him, smiling widely.

Lee’s eyes went wide, his jaw dropping. He was completely speechless.

“I’m- you’re pregnant?” Lee asks, making sure he heard you right.

“Yes.” You smiled and nodded.

Lee stood up from the chair, pulling you up with him and hugging you tightly. He kissed you with so much love and passion that it took your breath away.

“We’re having a baby.” Lee whispers, putting his hands on your soon to be pregnant belly.

“We’re having a baby.” You confirmed softly, putting your hands on top of his.

The whole night Lee couldn’t stop smiling and touching your belly. He even talked to your soon to be bump before he went to sleep. Lee slept well that night.

The following day, you made Lee lunch and took it to the station. You walked in the station with Lee’s lunch and a smile on your face.

“Knock knock.” You say in a soft singing voice, knocking on his office door.

“Come on in, darlin’.” Lee smiles, motioning for you to come inside his office.

You walked in his office, putting his lunch in front of him and sat on his lap. Lee wrapped an arm around your waist while his free hand found its place on your belly. You gave him a sweet and soft kiss.

“You look even more beautiful.” He says.

“I did just buy this dress.” You looked down at it, smoothing it out with your hands. “Do you like it?” You asked.

“I love it.” He murmurs softly. “Just imagine what your belly will look like in it soon.” He muses, rubbing your belly.

Lee’s fingers tickled you a bit, making you giggle and squirm in his lap. You wrapped an arm around his shoulders to steady yourself.

“What did you bring me, sugar?” Lee asks, moving the paper bag closer to him.

“Your favorite.” You answered.

“You’re my favorite.” He smirks, playfully nipping at your neck.

You blushed at his words.

“I fucking love you, darlin’.” Lee whispers.

“I love you too, sweetie.” You whispered back.

🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

-Bucky’s Doll

[lives-in-midgard]

It's Christmas Time

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: It's early december, so you and your roommate Bucky decide to start decorating the apartment. What will happen when you find a mistletoe in one of your boxes?

Word Count: 860

Prompts: Roommates + Decorating together + “You like them? They are my favorite.”

From @buck-star Fluffy Winter Event

A/N: Hey! I'm so excited to share my first Christmas fanfic of this year with you all! I hope you enjoy it! 💗If you haven't read my Christmas stories from last year you can find the Fluffcember Masterlist here.

Divider made by @buck-star

Fluffy Winter Masterlist | Main Masterlist

It’s early December which means it’s time to put up the Christmas decorations. After having breakfast with Bucky, you asked him if he would help you carry the boxes from the basement up to your shared apartment. He immediately agreed to help you and was excited to help you decorate the apartment. It will be your first Christmas that you celebrate together in your shared apartment. Bucky is excited but also a bit nervous because it’s been a really long time since he celebrated Christmas, and this time of the year always reminds him of his family. But Bucky is so glad that he has you.

You are his best friend.

The bond that you two share is something so special. You’re always there for each other and can talk about anything. After being friends for a while, you asked if Bucky would like to move in with you. He spends a lot of time at your apartment or you at Bucky’s apartment, so you thought why not move in together. Nothing can go wrong when you move in with your best friend, right? But something went wrong, your feelings for Bucky grew stronger and so did Bucky’s feelings for you. You still haven’t talked about it, but sometimes you had those special moments together, those moments where time stood still and you almost kissed. But every time someone or something interrupted you. Sometimes it was a phone that was ringing, or once it was Sam who knocked on the door, the ringing of the oven timer and Alpine who meowed. But what happens if nothing interrupts you the next time you almost kiss?

After Bucky and you put down the three boxes of Christmas decorations you had in the living room, you began to open them.

“Wow, that’s a lot of Christmas decorations.” Bucky said with a chuckle.

“Yeah, I love Christmas.” You said with a smile and Bucky smiled back at you. While you started to decorate, Alpine walked around and then sat down on the couch. Bucky went over to Alpine and petted her, then he helped you decorate. You have a lot of different types of decorations in different colors. Decorating with Bucky was so lovely, and you enjoyed it a lot. After a while you saw Bucky eating the cookies that you made yesterday, before he got home from his mission.

“You like them?” You asked with a smile.

“They are my favorite.” Bucky said with a huge smile and made your smile grow.

“You definitely have to make more of those, doll.” Bucky said and took another one.

“Maybe we can bake some together?” You asked and Bucky’s eyes lit up.

“That would be amazing.” Bucky smiled and walked closer to you, reaching for your hand. Then Bucky looked at you with those beautiful blue eyes and that smile. He pushed a strand of hair behind your ear and it was like time stood still for a moment until Alpine meowed and Bucky turned away.

“We should finish decorating.” Bucky mumbled and you nodded. You walked over to the last box and gave Bucky some candles. Then as you looked through the box, you suddenly found a mistletoe and held it in your hand. Bucky came back to you and looked at the mistletoe in your hand.

“Doll. You know…I’ve always wondered what it feels like to kiss under a mistletoe.” Bucky suddenly confessed.

“We should do it.” You suddenly said out loud.

“Wait really?” Bucky asked nervously.

“Yeah, how about we do it right now?”

“Yeah, we could do that. Where do you wanna put the mistletoe?” Bucky asked and you looked around the room to find a good spot.

“How about the door to the kitchen?”

“That’s perfect.” He smiled at you, and you handed him the mistletoe and walked to the door. Bucky placed the mistletoe on the wall and then smiled at you. You walked over to him, so that you were both standing under the mistletoe.

“Doll, you know we don’t have to kiss if you don’t want to, right?” He asked one more time to make sure that you really wanted to.

“I know.” You said and moved closer to Bucky, so that there was only a small distance between the two of you. Then Bucky pulled a strand of hair behind your ear and placed his hand on your cheek. Bucky looked into your eyes, and you nodded at him, making him move closer and finally kiss you. His lips touched yours gently and then the kiss became more passionate. When you ended the kiss, you smiled at each other and Bucky took your hand.

“Finally, we weren’t interrupted.” Bucky said and made you chuckle.

“I know right.” You said and you both started laughing.

“I’m so lucky to have you.” Bucky said, pulling you into a hug.

“Doll, would you like to go on a date with me?” Bucky asked as he hugged you.

“I would love that.”

Finally knowing that Bucky feels the same way feels so good and you can’t wait to go on a date with him.

Taglist:

@marvelogic | @eviebuggg @nicoline1998enilocin | @kandis-mom | @sergeantbarnessdoll | @noellez-best-life23 | @beaubbdoll | @sgtgarricks | @ratchildspartan | @scott-loki-barnes |  @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 |

@mrsbuckybarnes1917 | @brnesblogposts | @rogersbarber

[jhyoos]

Dreams Come True

Chapter 5: Stalker

summary: you and vi try to discuss what your relationship is now and how this should work, but it was interrupted by a blue-haired girl.

mentions: fluff, pathetic!vi, fame!au, modern!au, kissing, groping, stalking (saesangs), violence, choking (not by vi tho 😔)

notes : i did this while sick and on my period. it has not been proofread 😭. love yall 🫵🩷 im also resetting my taglist for this so if you want to be tagged for the next chapter comment!

The sun hung low in the sky, its golden rays spilling across the bustling streets as you and Mel stepped out of the practice studio. Your legs ached from the grueling rehearsal, but Mel’s persistent prodding about getting ice cream had finally worn you down. She strolled beside you, her duffle bag slung lazily over her shoulder, an almost mischievous grin plastered across her face.

The bell above the shop door chimed softly as you entered, the cool air inside offering a sweet reprieve from the lingering afternoon heat. The scent of freshly baked waffle cones filled the air, mingling with the bright, sugary notes of the various ice cream flavors on display. The shop was quaint and cozy, with pastel-colored walls and little booths tucked into corners.

After some debate, you both settled on your orders—Mel opting for a double scoop of chocolate fudge brownie while you stuck with a classic strawberry swirl. Finding a table by the window, the two of you slid into the booth, the faint chatter of other patrons blending into the background.

“So,” Mel began, her spoon poised above her ice cream as she leaned in slightly, “are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to pry it out of you?”

You gave her a confused look, though you knew exactly where this was heading. “Tell you what?” you replied, feigning innocence as you took a bite of your ice cream.

“Oh, don’t play dumb with me,” she teased, narrowing her eyes. “Vi. You two were all cozy at the club, and now you’re walking around with this dreamy little smile on your face. Spill it.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the blush creeping up your cheeks. “There’s nothing to spill,” you said, shrugging. “We haven’t confirmed anything yet.”

Mel’s spoon clattered against the side of her bowl as she gasped dramatically. “Yet? So, you’re telling me there’s a ‘yet.’ What does that mean? Did you two talk? Kiss? Make declarations of undying love under the moonlight?”

“Mel!” you hissed, though you couldn’t help but laugh at her theatrics. “Okay, fine. Yes, we talked. And... we might have said ‘I love you.’”

Her jaw dropped, and for a moment, she just stared at you in disbelief before breaking into a wide grin. “Oh my God, you’re back together, aren’t you?”

You shook your head. “No, not yet. It’s... complicated. We’re figuring things out.”

Mel’s teasing expression softened slightly as she leaned back in her seat. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re giving her another chance. You two were kind of disgustingly perfect together.”

You rolled your eyes again but smiled, a small, hopeful feeling blooming in your chest. As you sat there, sharing laughs and finishing your ice cream, you realized how much you’d missed moments like these—simple, carefree, and filled with the warmth of friendship. For now, that was enough.

The peaceful moment in the ice cream shop was abruptly interrupted by a loud knock on the window. Startled, you and Mel both turned your heads toward the sound. Outside stood a small group of fans, their excited faces pressed against the glass. Some of them had phones in hand, already snapping pictures.

You smiled politely and gave a small wave, as did Mel, though her grin was a bit tighter. “Guess we’ve got some fans in the neighborhood,” she murmured, trying to sound casual.

At first, it didn’t seem too serious—just a few people recognizing the two of you and sharing their enthusiasm. But as the seconds ticked by, the crowd began to grow. More people gathered outside, camera flashes illuminating the window in quick bursts. Their murmurs grew louder, and some started knocking again, calling out your name.

You exchanged a concerned look with Mel, who quickly glanced toward the door. “I don’t like this,” you admitted, lowering your voice. “It’s getting out of hand.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Mel replied, scanning the shop. “Let’s get out of here.”

You hastily placed cash on the table to cover the bill, grabbed your bag, and reached for Mel’s hand. Together, you ducked toward the back exit, keeping your heads low to avoid drawing even more attention. The two of you slipped through the rear door into the parking lot, your steps quickening as you approached Mel’s car.

Once inside, Mel made sure to lock the doors immediately. You glanced nervously over your shoulder as you spotted some of the fans spilling into the lot, their phones held high as they rushed toward the car. “They’re taking pictures of your license plate,” you said in a hushed voice, your stomach knotting.

“Not for long,” Mel muttered, her hands steady on the steering wheel as she started the car. She pulled out of the parking lot, her jaw set in determination. The fans ran after the car for a few seconds, some shouting and continuing to record. Mel turned onto a side street, taking back routes she clearly knew well.

The tension in the car was palpable as she zigzagged through the unfamiliar streets, checking the rearview mirror every few seconds. After what felt like an eternity, she finally let out a breath. “Okay, I think we lost them.”

Your own sigh of relief filled the car as you leaned back against the seat. The adrenaline was still coursing through you, making your heart pound. “Holy shit, that was intense,” you said, shaking your head. “We just debuted... I didn’t think we were that popular.”

Mel laughed nervously, her hands still gripping the wheel tightly. “Yeah, I thought we had some time before all this crazy fan stuff started. Guess not.”

You looked out the window, trying to process what had just happened. Your thoughts were interrupted as Mel’s voice pulled you back to the present. “Where should I drop you off?” she asked, her tone steady but still tinged with concern.

You gave her the address to Vi’s apartment, leaning back in your seat and letting out a sigh. “Make sure you change your license plate as soon as possible,” you added, your voice slightly strained from the earlier chaos.

Mel nodded with a small grin. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it handled. No way I’m letting some overly excited fans track me down.”

When you arrived at Vi’s apartment, you thanked Mel and watched her car pull away before heading upstairs. You still had the key Vi gave you, so you let yourself in. The familiar creak of the door echoed in the apartment, and you were immediately greeted by the sight of Vi sprawled lazily on the couch, a bag of Doritos in one hand and a Dr. Pepper can in the other. She was watching The Boys with the volume high, her focus on a particularly dramatic scene.

Hearing the door, she turned her head and smirked when she saw you. “Hey, hot stuff. Sit down,” she said casually, patting the empty spot on the couch beside her.

You couldn’t help but smile as you set your bag down and joined her. “Aren’t hockey players supposed to be on diets? You’re eating Doritos and drinking Dr. Pepper,” you teased, gesturing at the junk food scattered on the coffee table.

Vi chuckled, shrugging as she took another sip of soda. “Well, I’m not an idol, am I? And besides, I need the calories. Helps me bulk up, and you like that, don’t you?” she teased back, giving you a playful wink.

You rolled your eyes, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “You’re ridiculous.”

The moment was interrupted by a notification on your phone. Your smile faded as you opened it to find a TMZ article detailing your earlier encounter at the ice cream shop with Mel. The headline was bold and dramatic, emphasizing how close you and Mel came to being trampled by a growing crowd of fans.

Vi immediately noticed the change in your expression. “What’s wrong?” she asked, leaning over to grab your phone before you could stop her. Her brows furrowed as she read the headline, her expression shifting to concern. “You almost got attacked by fans?”

You shook your head, trying to downplay it. “We didn’t, so it’s okay. It’s normal… I just didn’t think it was gonna happen so soon,” you admitted, your voice quieter than usual.

Vi placed your phone down and turned her full attention to you. “Baby, your group’s account has over 12 million followers across Twitter, Instagram, and TikTok combined. Of course, you’re popular,” she said matter-of-factly. Her tone softened as she added, “You should probably get a bodyguard.”

You let out a small sigh, leaning back against the couch. “I didn’t think I’d need one this early on. I just want to enjoy things like going out for ice cream, you know? Without all… that.”

Vi reached out, taking your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I get it. But your safety comes first, okay? We’ll figure it out.”

The next few weeks settled into a comfortable routine: you and Vi alternating between each other's apartments to talk, cuddle, have sex, and then cuddle again before practice. It was a rhythm that felt natural, almost like you were already in a relationship—but Vi hadn’t asked you to be her girlfriend, nor had she even hinted at it. The silence on that front gnawed at you, and today you decided to finally bring it up.

When you unlocked the door to Vi’s apartment, ready to address the question head-on, you were greeted by an unexpected sight. Standing in the middle of the living room was a tall, elegant woman with striking blue hair. Her posture was effortless, exuding a kind of natural grace that instantly caught your attention. The two of you locked eyes for what felt like an eternity before Vi appeared from the hallway, her usual confident grin plastered across her face.

“Hey, baby,” Vi greeted casually as she walked up, slinging an arm around the woman’s shoulder. “This is my friend Caitlyn. We’re gonna be modeling together for Vogue.”

You looked between Vi and Caitlyn, your mind scrambling to process what you were seeing. Caitlyn was stunning, her poise and beauty making her seem almost unreal. When she extended her hand for a handshake, it was with the kind of grace that made even that simple gesture look elegant.

“Hi, I’m Caitlyn. I’m an ice skater,” she said, her voice smooth and polite.

You accepted the handshake, your own movements feeling stiff in comparison. “Hi, I’m (Y/N),” you replied, your voice steady despite the sudden tightness in your chest.

Caitlyn’s eyes lit up in recognition. “Oh, I knew you looked familiar! You’re from the group AURORA. You look even prettier in person,” she said with an easy smile.

“Oh, thank you,” you managed, forcing a polite smile in return. Your eyes darted to Vi, searching her face for any kind of explanation or acknowledgment of how awkward this felt.

Before you could say anything else, you tried to speak, “Hey, can we talk in priv—” but Vi cut you off by leaning in and kissing you. Her hand casually slid to your ass, giving it a quick squeeze before she pulled back.

“I’m sorry, but I gotta go,” Vi said nonchalantly, as if the entire situation was completely normal. She grabbed her things and started heading toward the door. “We’ve got interviews and stuff downtown, so I’ll just be staying with Ellie and Abby in their penthouse for the week.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Vi barely gave you the chance. “I love you,” she said casually over her shoulder as she opened the door, holding it for Caitlyn to follow her out.

And then they were gone.

You stood in the middle of the living room, staring at the closed door in stunned silence. The sound of the lock clicking into place felt deafening in the otherwise quiet apartment. Confusion churned in your mind as you tried to piece together what had just happened.

Vi’s words echoed in your head. I love you. Yet she’d just left you standing here, no explanation, no conversation about the questions you’d been holding onto for weeks. All of it—her sudden departure, the presence of Caitlyn, and the way she’d brushed off your attempt to talk—left a bitter taste in your mouth. You couldn’t help but wonder: was this love, or was it just convenience?

Hours of stress cleaning had left Vi’s apartment spotless, every surface shining like new. Yet despite your efforts to distract yourself, your thoughts remained restless. Finally, you decided you couldn’t stay there any longer. You changed into one of Vi’s oversized hoodies, the familiar scent bringing a small measure of comfort, and grabbed your bag before heading out the door.

Instead of going straight home, you decided to stop by a nearby burger joint. Your stomach grumbled, reminding you that you hadn’t eaten all day. Once inside, you ordered a burger and fries to go, leaning against the counter as you waited. The minutes dragged on, but eventually, your order number was called. You thanked the cashier, grabbing the bag with a polite smile before heading back to your car.

As you approached your car, keys in hand, a tall man suddenly stepped into your path. His presence was unnerving, but his expression didn’t immediately raise any alarms.

“You’re (Y/N) from AURORA, right?” he asked, his tone overly enthusiastic. “I’m a really big fan. Can I have an autograph?”

You forced a polite smile, trying to keep things cordial. “I’m sorry, I’m kinda busy right now,” you said, hoping he’d take the hint.

But he didn’t. Instead, he stepped closer, his demeanor shifting from eager to insistent. “Come on, just a quick one. It’ll only take a second,” he pressed.

Before you could respond, his eyes drifted to the hoodie you were wearing, his expression darkening. His nostrils flared as he caught the faint scent of cologne clinging to the fabric. Without warning, his hand shot out and grabbed your wrist tightly, making you drop the bag of food.

“What man were you with?!” he demanded, his voice seething with anger. “I thought I watched you carefully enough!”

Panic surged through you as you tried to pull away. “Sir, I don’t know who you are! Please let go of me!” you pleaded, your voice trembling.

His grip tightened, and before you could react, his hand moved to your throat, squeezing with terrifying force. You clawed at his arm, gasping for air, your vision starting to blur.

“Sir, please…” you choked out, your voice barely audible.

His expression twisted with rage. “If I can’t have you, no one can,” he growled, his grip unrelenting.

Just as the edges of your vision began to go dark, you felt the pressure on your neck suddenly release. You collapsed to the ground, gasping for air and clutching at your bruised throat. Blinking through tears, you saw the man being yanked backward and slammed to the ground.

The commotion drew a crowd, and amidst the chaos, you caught sight of your rescuer. Recognition flickered as you realized it was Ekko, Jinx’s boyfriend. His face was steely with anger as he held the man down, delivering a punch to keep him subdued.

Moments later, Jinx appeared, rounding the corner in search of Ekko. Her eyes widened in horror as she took in the scene: Ekko restraining the man on the ground, and you, sitting on the pavement with a large bruise forming around your neck.

“Oh my god, (Y/N)!” Jinx yelled, rushing toward you. She pushed through the small crowd of onlookers, waving them off as she knelt beside you. “Are you okay? The cops are on their way,” she said, her voice full of worry as she helped you to your feet.

You tried to nod, but the effort was too much. The adrenaline draining from your body left you weak and unsteady, and the edges of your vision blurred again. You immediately fell back on to the ground, Jinx caught you as she held you carefully. The last thing you heard was Jinx calling your name before everything went black.

chapters: one, two, christmas special, three, four , five

edit announcement: it’s a double upload today so expect chapter 6 in a few hours!

[loulou-land]

5 Times Buck Realized He Could Be Clingy + 1 Time Tommy was the Clingy One

Day 4 of @bucktommyfluffebruary | Clingy Boyfriends | 4,076 words

(1) Before a Shift

Mornings like these were always the hardest for Buck. 

After days spent together—wrapped up in each other, tucked away from the world—it was too easy to get used to having Tommy there. Waking up beside him, getting to roll over to steal lazy kisses, lingering in bed until the sun had well and truly come up. Then, moving to the kitchen, sharing warm coffee, leaning into each other's spaces as they made breakfast, coming up with half-baked plans for the day that they may or may not follow through on. 

Buck had done a bit of the domesticity thing with Taylor, but it wasn’t anywhere close to what this was. He had never felt as comfortable as he did with Tommy.  And the most incredible part? How seamlessly they had fallen into it, without a second thought. 

But eventually, reality came knocking. 

And Buck hated it. 

The soft glow of their cozy bubble would be ripped away by ringing alarms and the harsh reality of shifts that wouldn't align for a while. And today, it was Tommy’s turn to leave for a shift while Buck still had the rest of the day off. 

Buck tried to be normal about it. He really did. 

Continue Reading Below or on ao3

He'd stayed curled up in bed, watching as Tommy moved through his morning routine—brushing his teeth while Buck sleepily watched from the pillow; buttoning up his uniform with practiced ease, Buck following the movement of his hands spellbound; sitting on the edge of the bed to lace up his boots, just within his reach. 

Okay, time to be cool. Rein it in, Buck thought. Wish him a good day and go back to sleep. 

Instead, before Tommy could make a move to stand, Buck latched on. 

Nothing dramatic—just a small tug at the fabric of Tommy’s shirt—just enough to stall him. 

Tommy huffed out a quiet laugh, and Buck immediately backtracked. 

“ Sorry ,” Buck laughed, sheepish. “Just…fixing your shirt. All good now.” 

It was pathetic, but his fingers still didn’t let go. 

Tommy hummed, turning slightly, looking at him consideringly. “Thank you, sweetheart.” 

And Buck…he definitely should've let go by now. He didn't want to make Tommy late. Instead, his finger tightened in the fabric, just slightly. 

Tommy noticed. He always noticed. 

But he didn't call him out on his dramatics. Didn't tease him. He just reached down, cupped the side of Buck’s face, and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, right over his birthmark. 

“I'll text you between calls.” Tommy promised. 

Buck swallowed down the lump in his throat, forcing himself to nod. “ Be safe .” 

Tommy kissed him again, slower this time—lingering, reassuring—before heading for the door. 

A little while later, Buck decided to brave the day. He had barely finished pouring his coffee when his phone buzzed. 

8:55 am

Tommy: Lucy brought donuts today :) (attached image: Tommy biting into a glazed donut, blue eyes sparkling happily) 

Buck huffed out a startled laugh, shaking his head at his boyfriend's massive sweet tooth. 

Buck: Looks delicious. But not as delicious as the man holding it ;) 

Tommy: Evan…behave 😤 

And that was only the beginning. 

9:47am 

Tommy: you have competition, look at how adorable he is (attached image: a orange tabby stretched out on the concrete taking a nap) 

Buck: I’m more adorable tho 🥺 right?

Buck: Tommy?? 

Buck: right?!!

10:05 am

Buck: I just watched that new documentary on black holes.

Buck: Did you know a black hole could fit in your pocket? 🤯

Tommy: That must be why I’m always losing stuff after I’ve put them in my pockets…

Buck: dork 🙄

Tommy: only for you ❤️ 

10:58am

Tommy: I’m going to kill the newbie

Buck: why? 

Buck: please don’t. I need you here, not in jail. 

Tommy: he keeps using my coffee mug 😑

Buck: wow, brave man…

11:05 am

Buck: (attached image: Buck in front of the mirror, wearing form fitting workout clothes and smirking into the camera) 

Tommy: Baby 😍  

Tommy: You don’t play fair. But two can play this game

Tommy: (attached image: Tommy wearing aviator glasses, smiling smugly, sitting in the cockpit of the helicopter) 

Buck: …you win 🥵

They continued texting every moment they could throughout the day. Tommy telling him about an interesting call they'd gotten about a naked hiker stuck up in a tree, how he regretted asking the guy how it happened, how Lucy kept teasing him for texting so much and how he couldn’t wait to see him again.  

Buck loved it.

And somewhere in the back and forth of messages, Buck realized something. 

 Tommy really was unlike anyone he'd ever met. 

Because Tommy didn't just tolerate Buck’s need to share every thought, every feeling, every random little moment—he truly wanted it. 

(2) Holding Hands

Buck was a touchy person. 

But it wasn't something he'd ever really thought about—until he started dating tommy. 

Because now, whenever they were on a date, every time they were out together, Buck found himself hyper-aware of the way their shoulders brushed as they walked side by side. The way Tommy’s warmth bled into him, a steady presence, grounding, there. 

Buck relished it. Enjoyed being close to Tommy. 

But what he really loved? 

Holding Tommy’s hand. 

There was something addicting about the feeling of it—calloused and strong, big enough to make Buck’s fingers feel almost small in comparison. It was ridiculous how much he liked that, how obsessed he was with the way his hand fit so perfectly in Tommy’s. 

It had been a revelation the first time it happened. They were walking through a farmer’s market on a lazy Sunday morning, sipping coffee and browsing fresh produce. Buck had been excitedly telling Tommy about the health benefits of squash while Tommy listened intently. It had been natural, the way Buck’s hand had found Tommy’s—automatic, easy, just right. 

And then he’d looked down at them. At their fingers interlaced together, Tommy’s grip was firm and warm. Confident and sure. 

Buck hadn't meant to stare at them, completely oblivious to the world around him. But he was amazed at how perfect it felt, like a puzzle piece finally slotting into place. Then Tommy squeezed his hand, and Buck had looked up—face flushing, embarrassed at being caught. 

Without a word, Tommy lifted their joined hands and pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to Buck’s hand. 

Buck tripped. 

It was just a small misstep, but Tommy definitely spotted it. 

“You good, Evan?” Tommy said grinning. 

“Yeah. Totally. That wasn't—” Buck stammered, clearing his throat. “Just, uh, uneven pavement.” 

Tommy smirked. “Mhm,” 

Buck glared at him, but it was hard to look indignant when his heart was currently doing flips inside his chest. 

That moment had opened the floodgates.  

After that Buck would reach for Tommy’s hand without even thinking about it. His fingers sliding between Tommy’s, intertwining, squeezing just slightly. Holding on for as long as he could. 

If Tommy needed to open a door, reach for something or take out his wallet Buck would relinquish his hold for a few seconds before immediately latching on again. 

Tommy always smiled, a small little pleased thing. 

So Buck kept doing it. He reached for him when walking together. When they were waiting in line for coffee. In the car, driving to places. While out at the bar with their family and friends. At home, snuggling on the couch or laying in bed.  

And every time, Tommy let him. 

No teasing. No hesitation. 

Just a gentle squeeze back, like he never wanted to let go either. 

(3) After a Bad Call

Some shifts turned out bad.

Buck had accepted that a long time ago.

But knowing it didn’t make it any easier.

It didn’t make it easier when a call went south, when a victim slipped away no matter how hard they tried. It didn’t make it easier when he could still hear the sounds of screaming or see the way that life slipped through his fingers.

It didn’t make it easier when the self-doubt crept in, making its home in him, when his chest tightened with the weight of it all, when the voices whispered in his ear—you should’ve done more, you should’ve been better, you should’ve saved them.

Sometimes, those voices sounded exactly like his parents.

Other times, it was just his own.

And on those nights, Buck needed something solid. He craved something warm. Something that told him he was still here. That he still mattered. 

But asking for comfort had never been easy for him. Especially when Buck felt like he didn’t deserve it. When he felt like he was making things once again all about himself. 

So when he walked through the door, carrying the weight of that night’s failure, he didn’t say anything.

Buck dropped his keys on the counter. Stood with his hands flat on it as he stared unseeing at the grainy dots of the countertop. Then he rubbed a hand over his face like that would somehow scrub the frustration off of him.

Buck tensed when he felt strong arms circle his waist and got pulled into a steady chest. He matched his breathing to Tommy’s and felt himself slowly relaxing and letting go of some of the tension in his shoulders. 

It helped that Tommy didn’t ask.

He just took one look at Buck and knew.

Knew what Buck needed, even if he couldn’t say it.

“C’mere .”

Buck didn’t even hesitate.

He turned around and let himself be pulled in, let himself be wrapped up in Tommy’s arms.

And for a while, he just stood there, breathing Tommy in, grounding himself in the warmth of his chest, not thinking about anything other than Tommy Tommy Tommy . 

Eventually, Tommy kissed his temple, then nudged him toward the bathroom.

“Hot shower first. Then I’ve got you.”

And Buck froze for a second, completely amazed at the concept that someone had him. 

After the shower, Buck found his favorite sweatpants and hoodie waiting for him. The ones that were soft and well-worn, the ones that felt safe. The ones he’d hide in when he was feeling particularly raw and bereft. His heart picked up speed at the thought that Tommy had picked up on that. Had remembered. 

There was a cup of soothing tea on the nightstand.

But most importantly?

There was Tommy.

Sitting on the bed, waiting with open arms, like he already knew exactly where Buck needed to be.

Buck didn’t fight it anymore. 

He climbed into bed, curled into Tommy’s chest, let himself feel it— the warmth, the comfort, the weight of arms holding him together when he felt like he was falling apart at the seams. 

Tommy didn’t say anything, just rubbed slow circles into his back, a steady touch that anchored him, that reminded him he was here.

At some point, Buck let the pain in him crack open.

He exhaled shakily, pressed his face into Tommy’s neck, wrapped his fingers in his shirt and let himself cry.

And Tommy just held him.

Didn’t judge him, didn’t rush him, didn’t tell him to pull himself together, didn’t make him feel any less for showing emotions, didn’t say it was fine because it wasn’t.

Tommy just held on tighter to Buck. 

And when Buck’s breathing evened out, when the exhaustion started creeping in, Tommy finally spoke—low, soft, certain.

“You did everything you could, baby.”

“You’re a damn good firefighter, Evan.”

“I’ve got you. I’m here.” 

And Buck—warm and safe, pressed against the only person who had ever made him feel like he could just be, that he didn’t have to hold it all in—let himself believe it.

(4) In Public

Buck had never really been big on PDA.

Not because he was uncomfortable with it—he just hadn’t really been the type. With past partners, he’d hold hands, drape an arm around their shoulder, maybe rest a hand on their lower back. A quick kiss on the cheeks or lips. But that was it. 

With Tommy, it was different. He just— wanted. All the time.  

It was like some switch had flipped in his brain. Like his body just instinctively sought Tommy out. Tommy was Earth, and Buck was his moon, caught in his orbit. 

He couldn’t help it.

Wherever they were, Buck was aware of him.

Tommy could be across the room, deep in conversation with Bobby, or standing at the truck joking around with Eddie, and Buck would still know exactly where he was at all times.

(Chimney had once called it his Built-In Tommy Radar™.)

Which, granted, was very dramatic.

But also, not entirely untrue.

And really, he blamed Tommy. He’d totally conditioned Buck. Because every time their eyes met across the room, Tommy would give him that smile.

The soft, scrunchy one, the one that was just for him.

And Buck?

Buck was a lost cause. 

What else was he supposed to do but make his way to Tommy? To kiss that smile that was his and his alone, to sigh happily into his mouth, to melt under Tommy’s touch—the warm press of his hands on Buck’s hips, the rest of the world fading away. 

So yeah. Maybe he was a PDA guy.

Maybe he did like having Tommy’s arms around him, the way he got pulled in effortlessly as Tommy talked to Chim, Hen or Eddie, like it was second nature, like he was proud to have Buck in his arms. 

And maybe he did like the steady hand on his lower back when walking through a crowd, the way Tommy would subtly shift in front of him, protective without even thinking about it (and though Buck could take care of himself, there was something about the action that made him feel cared for), the soft kiss to the side of his head when there was a lull in conversation. 

He also loved the dorky, completely endearing compliments Tommy gave Buck regardless of whoever was standing within listening distance, they always left him grinning like an idiot. 

 He doesn’t ever remember being as giddy as he gets when Tommy flirts with him—making him feel as nervous as their very first date. 

And maybe—just maybe—he was a little obsessed with Tommy’s hugs.

(Okay, a lot obsessed.)

Because Tommy gave the best hugs.

Big and warm, arms wrapped around him like a shield, like Buck was something precious.

So yeah, he sought them out. Constantly. And maybe that happened to be when they were around people. So what. It was always a good time to get a Tommy hug. 

And Tommy never denied him.

So Buck kept doing it. 

One time, Buck had been trapped in a long-winded Chimney movie rant, which was fine, except he really missed Tommy and wanted to be in his arms. 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fascinating. Uh…excuse me, I gotta go ask Tommy something…” he said, turning in the direction of where he knew Tommy was. 

Chimney stopped mid-sentence, shaking his head. “You didn’t hear a single word I said, did you?” 

Buck blinked. “Hmm? What?’

Chimney sighed. “Go on. Find Tommy. I’m stealing him later.” He pointed a finger at Buck. “Heactually appreciates my movie discussions.” 

Buck snorted. “Good luck with that.” He patted Chim’s shoulder and happily took off. 

He found Tommy in the kitchen, drinking a glass of wine and talking to Hen. Without hesitation, Buck slotted himself into his side.

Tommy didn't even pause—just wrapped an arm around him, tugged him in closer, and kept talking.

Like it was the most natural thing in the world, to have a Buck shaped limpet attached to his side. 

Which, to be fair, it kind of was now.

Hen just raised an eyebrow. “You really can’t go five minutes without touching him, huh?”

“Nope,” Buck said easily.

Tommy just smiled, pressed a kiss to the top of Buck’s head, and kept rubbing slow circles into his back.

Buck grinned, nuzzling into Tommy’s neck, unable to mask the joy he felt in simple moments like this—where he objectively knew he was maybe being a bit too much, but had learned that in Tommy’s eyes? 

It was never enough. 

(5) After the Breakup 

After the breakup—and after Tommy realized his mistake, and after Buck ignored what everyone else was telling him and went to get his man back, and after the screaming-crying match outside Tommy’s house, followed by clothes ripping, up against the door, we’re-having-sex-and-getting-back-together moment—Buck’s clinginess ramped up. 

Not in a bad way. Not in a suffocating, unhealthy way.

Just in a he-knows-what-life-without-Tommy-feels-like-and-doesn’t-want-to-go-through-that-ever-again way.

And luckily for him, Tommy felt exactly the same.

Which was why, after a week of barely seeing each other because of their shifts, Buck was on the verge of losing it. He needed his Tommy time. It was a necessity at this point. 

Buck was so ready to make up for lost time.

Usually, when this happened, they’d spend a full 48 hours wrapped up in each other. No interruptions, no responsibilities—just them.

But this time?

This time, the universe had conspired against them. 

Buck didn’t know what god's he’d pissed off, but he’d love to make them an offering because this? This was just unfair. 

Instead of catching up properly—with a nice dinner (Tommy for desert), a relaxing movie (which they wouldn’t really watch, because Buck would be riding Tommy), a long shower (where Tommy would suck him dry), and finally going to bed (making love until they wrung a couple of orgasm of each other)—they’d fallen asleep. 

They’d both come off exhausting shifts that had gone into overtime, stumbled into bed, shared a sleepy kiss, and promptly passed out. 

Of course, the next morning, they’d overslept.

Which meant no lazy morning kisses, no waking Tommy up with a blowjob, no time to soak each other in, and—worst of all—no shower quickie.

Nope. Rather, they’d had to rush out the door to make it to Bobby and Athena’s BBQ. 

“Can’t we just stay in this time?” Buck pouted. “I can just tell them I got sick.”

Tommy chuckled, “Baby, we did that last time. And they didn’t believe it.” 

“Well, how was I supposed to know you were such a bad actor? Buck huffed. “I told you to sound nasally, not British.” 

Tommy shrugged, throwing him a long-suffering smile. “Well, now you know why I’m a pilot and not an actor,” he said drily. 

Buck slumped in the passenger seat, fidgeting with Tommy’s fingers “I just want you all to myself. I feel like I haven’t seen in forever,” he whined. 

“I know, sweetheart. I feel the same.” Tommy squeezed his hand. “But if we don’t make an appearance, we’re getting disowned.”

“Fine,” Buck grumbled. 

And now, Buck was suffering.

He was pretty sure his family had conspired to ruin his life. Because tell him why everyone kept stealing Tommy away.

First, Chimney cornered him to talk about the greatest horror movies of the ‘90s (Who cares, Buck thought viciously.) 

Then, Eddie pulled him aside for car talk. (C’mon man, you guys have your own bro day for this!) 

After that, Maddie and Karen had claimed him, dragging him into a corner with wine and gossip (And okay, fine, Buck couldn’t compete with that right now—Tommy did love juicy gossip.) 

But Buck? 

Buck was two seconds away from doing some maiming. 

He tried to be patient.

Tried to play it cool.

But after an hour of barely seeing Tommy? When they’d come here together? 

Enough was enough.

So when they finally sat down to eat, Buck plopped himself right into Tommy’s lap.

Just. Dropped right in.

Complete silence around the table. 

Until— 

“Oh my god.” Chimney, squawked. 

“Can you two be normal for five minutes?” Eddie sighed.

“Buckaroo, you do know there’s an empty chair right there?” Athena said, dryly. 

“I’m surprised he lasted this long without touching Tommy,” Hen smirked. 

Bobby just shook his head and passed the potatoes to Maddie. 

“I think it’s sweet,” Maddie said, completely unbothered.

Tommy just laughed, wrapping an arm around Buck’s waist, pulling him closer.

“Missed me, babe?”

“You have no idea,” Buck sighed dramatically, melting against him.

The table collectively groaned.

“Disgusting.” Hen.

“Sickening.” Chimney.

“Truly vile.” Eddie.

“You’re all just jealous,” Buck mumbled into Tommy’s shoulder.

Tommy chuckled, dropping a kiss to the side of Buck’s head, keeping one hand on his waist and pulling their plate closer to share. 

Buck grinned.

Yeah, he was exactly where he was supposed to be. 

(+1) After the Breakup - Tommy’s Version

Tommy woke up first.

He blinked the sleep from his eyes, his breath catching in his throat as he found himself staring at Evan. 

Evan, who was sleeping peacefully beside him, face soft and relaxed, his lips curved into the smallest, barely-there smile.

His head was pillowed on Tommy’s arm, his fingers curled loosely around Tommy’s waist, even in sleep still holding on.

Tommy exhaled, slow and careful, like if he moved too fast, it would all disappear.

Because some part of him—the stupid, still-scared part of him—was afraid this wasn’t real, that this was all a dream, a hallucination, a cruel trick of his own mind.

How could Evan really be here—in his house, in his bed, in his arms?

But no. He remembered.

Tommy remembered opening the door yesterday and coming face to face with an angry, teary-eyed Evan.

He remembered the way Evan had yelled at him—loud and emotional and so heartbreakingly honest.

“You don’t get to make that choice for me, Tommy! You don’t get to decide that you won’t be my last!”

And Tommy had broken down. Had said things he never meant to say out loud.

Had told Evan that he deserved better.

And Evan had shouted right back—loud, frustrated but completely sure of himself.

“I don’t want ‘better.’ I want you. Not some mythical, perfect person out there. You—Tommy. You’re already my perfectly imperfect guy. I love you.”

And Tommy—God.

Tommy had wanted to believe him. Had wanted to trust it.

So he’d made a choice. Because living without Evan had been the worst experience of his life.

And now, here they were.

Evan made a soft sound, stirring awake.

Tommy watched as his eyelashes fluttered, as his breathing shifted, as blue eyes slowly blinked open.

And then Evan saw him. And smiled, bright and beaming and easy, like he’d never once doubted Tommy was going to be here.

God.

How could Tommy have ever let this go?

He lifted a hand, fingers tracing the shape of Evan’s lips, his nose, the sharp line of his jaw. He followed the slope of his eyebrow, the curve of the pink mark above it.

Evan hummed happily, leaning into his touch.

And something in Tommy cracked wide open. Now that he could finally touch again, he couldn’t stop.

Not in the desperate, frantic way they had last night, when their hands had been all urgency, all need, all pent-up longing and desperation.

No. This was softer.

This was Tommy relearning Evan—as if he could ever truly forget him—his hands traveling slowly, memorizing and rediscovering all at once.

The curve of Evan’s hip. The dip of his spine. The warmth of his skin under Tommy’s palm.

Evan preened under the attention, sighing happily, and Tommy just soaked him in.

They lay there for a while, watching each other, saying everything without really saying a word.

Until finally, Evan made a move to sit up.

Tommy hadn’t even realized he made a noise—something small, something desperate, something aching—until Evan stopped instantly.

“Hey.” Evan’s voice was soft, questioning. “What’s wrong?”

Tommy swallowed.

His throat felt tight.

“Just—” He hesitated, but only for a second, then let himself be honest.

“Stay. A little while longer. Please.”

Evan smiled, soft and knowing. “Of course, honey.”

He opened his arms, and Tommy fell into them, into warmth and safety and home. Fell into the one place he never wanted to leave again.

Evan’s arms came up around him, holding him just as tightly as Tommy was holding on to him.

Tommy pressed his face into the crook of Evan’s neck, exhaling slow, letting himself breathe, letting himself believe.

He had Evan.

Because Evan had chosen him.

And this time?

Tommy wasn’t letting him go.

[shuaasumii]

“Waffles”

| pairing: dad!seungcheol x mom!reader

| genre: fluff

| warnings: none!

| summary: coups wants to surprise his wife with some waffles in the morning, but he ends up needing her help to make them.

| a/n: pics above are from pinterest, and happy birthday coups!

your sweet, sweet slumber was interrupted by a series of crashes and clashes coming from outside your bedroom. you reluctantly opened your eyes, wincing at how bright the morning light was. yelling and giggling could be heard from the kitchen, filling you up with curiosity.

“babe why are the kids awake?” you questioned your husband seungcheol, who was supposed to be beside you, but instead appeared to be absent from bed.

getting out of bed, you decided to see what was causing all the commotion.

“daddy i think you burned this waffle,” giggled your four year old son eunseok.

“i did not it’s just a bit toasty,” your husband said trying to protest against eunseok’s words.

“if it’s not burnt then why is this corner of the waffle black?” aesung, your five year old daughter asks.

“like i said it’s just a bit to-“ seungcheol was cut off by your soft voice.

“what are you three doing?” you asked like any other mom would if you caught your children and husband doing questionable things.

“nooo mommy our surprise is ruined!” your four year old exclaimed in total panic mode.

“it’s not ruined if she doesn’t quite know what we’re doing eunseok!” s.coups lightly scolded the boy. meanwhile, aesung got down from her stepping stool and sassily made her way to where you leaned against the doorframe with your arms crossed.

“you need to go back to bed mommy,” she told you as if she was your mother instead of the other way around, “we have a surprise planned for you but it’s not done yet.”

you hesitantly obliged yelling to your husband, “don’t burn down my kitchen, it’s very expensive!”

since you were already awake, you decided to brush your teeth and do your skincare; you weren’t going anywhere today so there was no need for makeup (plus your already naturally gorgeous).

awhile later you heard a knock on your door, “come in” you said. the door opened to reveal eunseok who had a sheepish smile on his face.

“mommy i think we need your help to make the waffles” he admits.

“you do?” you asked crossing your arms.

“daddy burned way too many, aesung said he’s wasting the waffle batter” eunseok said gesturing for you to come over.

you stood up from where you sat at the vanity, “i suppose i could lend a helping hand” you replied grabbing ahold of eunseok’s hand guiding him to the kitchen.

“babe i don’t know what i’m doing wrong!” your husband exclaimed in frustration, “i followed your recipe and kept it in the waffle maker for however long it said.”

you sighed, “let me look at the recipe” aesung handed you seungcheol’s phone which kept a picture of the recipe for your famous waffles.

“did you add two cups of flour?”

“yes”

“two separated eggs?”

“yup”

“one teaspoon of vanilla?”

“sure did”

“one tablespoon of baking powder?”

“definite- wait did you say tablespoons?” he arched an eyebrow.

“yes… why?” you asked wondering what your husband did wrong.

“i think i added a teaspoon” s.coups confessed, scratching the nape of his neck.

“eunseok this is your fault!” your daughter accusing exclaimed, “you were the one who was reading out the instructions.”

“wait does that mean everything that you added that was supposed to be a tablespoon was actually a teaspoon?” you questioned the three.

“uh maybe,” your husband shrugged.

you made a sound of disbelief and put a hand to your forehead, “this is why you don’t bake with daddy,” you told the children.

“i’m sorry babe, i swear next time i’ll read the instructions correctly,” at this angle, your husband looked like a kid apologizing for stealing a cookie from the cookie jar.

“i’ll tell you what, we can try to remake these waffles correctly this time together as a family,” you proposed. the three nodded sheepishly still embarrassed about the previous moments.

“alright let’s get this show on the road!”

after a few spills of waffle batter and a handful of too toasty waffles, you finally had a decent amount of decent looking waffles. your little family of four was now eagerly digging into the waffles.

“this is like the reward,” eunseok said a matter of factly.

“best reward ever,” aesung said stuffing her face full of the food on her plate.

“aesung don’t talk with food in your mouth,” you giggled wiping your mouth with a napkin.

“i’m never attempting to bake something ever again,” s.coups said followed by a defeated sigh.

“it’s okay daddy,” your son said comfortingly patting his father’s back, “you can stick to rapping.”

the three of you bubbled with laughter while seungcheol sat there with a blank expression on his face.

“yeah babe stick to rapping,” you wagged a finger in front of his face.

[itsprashimusic]

A Barnes Birthday

Summary - You are celebrating baby barnes' birthday, which is on the same day as your husband's birthday.

Pairings - Bucky Barnes x wife!Reader

W/C - 1.3k

Warnings - fluff, little cussing...i think, no use of y/n, your baby's name is not mentioned, neither is there any description of you or the baby. let me know if i missed anything. Happy reading<3

Masterlist | Navigation

At around 4 am you awoke, bursting with excitement. It was your baby's first birthday. And also, one of your husband's. It was difficult for you to fall asleep in the first place, so you thought you might as well get up from your light, restless sleep and get things ready for the day.

Knowing Bucky, he would most likely be knocked out asleep by now and wouldn't wake up till around 8:30 - 9 am. Normally your husband tends to be a light sleeper, but off late he has been sleeping like a log and you hope that carries on to tonight as well. You prayed to the universe he would not wake up when you silently moved out of bed.

First things first you freshened up, ate a quick meal and started decorating the house. Thankfully earlier in the day your baby managed to exhaust himself to a point where he would sleep the whole night without waking up once. You got streamers and balloons out of a box. Some easy to clean up confetti. You gritted your teeth as you tried to move the heavy couch around. You strong husband would have been useful here if this wasn't for his birthday.

You gave up on trying to blow the balloons and decided to bake the cake to get rid of some steam. Figuring out what Bucky would like was not that hard. Ever since Oreo came out, he has absolutely loved it. And with oreo having so many variations now-a-days than just biscuits, it's been the only thing Bucky eats when he wants a snack. Not the healthiest option but the man likes it and needs to eat.

You found a very simple oreo cake that you could make. You got started on making it. Flour, milk, butter, oreo biscuits obviously. By around 6 am the cake was in the oven getting ready. With nothing left to do, you got back to decorating. But there was an issue. You still needed to move the couch to another location.

At that exact moment your phone started ringing loudly. You ran to the kitchen and answered it, mentally kicking yourself for putting in on vibrate. You just hoped Bucky had not woken up. Thankfully he had not. Putting the phone to your ear you whispered-yelled into it, "What?!"

"I get it that you forgot to put your phone on silent?" Sam chuckled on the other side of the line. You blew an irritated breath out as you rolled your eyes. "Yes, I did. You need something Sam, cuz I'm kinda busy with trying to move my heavy ass couch."

"How about you open the door first and then we can figure out if I need something."

You moved from the kitchen to the front door and opened it to reveal a smirking Sam Wilson on the other side. You lowered the phone from your ear, cutting the call. "You son of a-" you say shaking your head a bit, a smile making it way onto your face. You both go in for a quick hug and you invite him inside. Not that he needed the invitation. He practically lived there at this point.

"What are you doing here at this ridiculous hour in the morning?"

"Helping you prepare for a double-birthday party." You didn't know how any man could be as generous as Sam Wilson. It was just a little past 6 in the morning and here he was in your house ready to lend a helping hand in getting your home ready for a birthday party. You smiled a grateful smile and told him about the couch and where you needed help in moving it. He hung his jacket on the coat hanger and got to helping you with whatever you needed.

You left in the middle to bring the cake out of the oven and let it cool. By that time the couch was moved along with some more furniture, balloons were hung and so were some streamers. With the extra help you were able to have the house decorated by 7 am with snacks and everything else ready. That was when you heard some cries coming from the bedroom. Realising that your son was awake, you quickly headed to the room to sooth him before Bucky woke up with the sound.

Bucky was dead asleep. A small part of you was worried with how deep his sleep was, but you knew it meant he was sleeping peacefully. "Hi my baby!" you greeted your son with a soft voice. "You're awake, yes. It's your first birthday." you said while cuddling him. He needed that after he woke up. His cries died down; he was wide awake and cheery. "Yes, its papa's birthday too. We'll wish him later, first let's get you ready for this double birthday."

You got to work bathing him and dressing him up in some adorable but comfortable clothes which would be easy to clean. Sam had headed back to his place to freshen up a bit before your son woke up. It was now past 8 am and you were getting dangerously close to when Bucky would wake up. You took 20 minutes for yourself to look presentable since there would be photos.

Bucky woke up just as you finished changing your clothes. "Doll?" he called out when you weren't found in his sight. "Coming." you replied and walked out of the closet he had built for you. Before fatherhood, Bucky had a big passion for construction. It kept him busy, allowed him do something for you and learn some new skills in the process.

"Happy birthday honey." you say with a smile. "How old are you turning today?" you joke, tilting your head to the side. He opened his arms and pulled you in for a hug. "Ha ha very funny. But thank you." saying the first part with mock annoyance, he pulled away and just stared at you for a good 10 seconds before he asked, "Where's the little one?" You said nothing and just smiled, gesturing him to follow you.

You jogged out of the room making him chase after you. You pick up your son who was waiting with Sam in the living room and stood there waiting for your husband. He walked in and Sam set off a confetti popper in his face which surprised for a second but then he hugged Sam. Bucky pulled back, looked around and then at you holding your son. You took the baby out of your arms and kissed him all over his tiny adorable face.

Bucky wasn't a man of many words and preferred to show his gratitude in actions rather than words. He pulled you close and just kissed the top of your head. You left his side when Sam came closer, "Happy birthday man, and happy birthday little man!" You then came out of the kitchen with the cake and lit candles and set it down on the table. In the moment Bucky couldn't be any more grateful for his little family. You, his son and Sam. They were his motivation for everything he did.

The candles were blown out and the cake was cut and fed to everyone. Your son got to devourer whatever cake was left on an already dirty towel laid on the floor. Sam played the role of a photographer for free, only because it was his nephew's birthday.

"it's been a year already." you say.

"Time flies fast, no?" he held you by his side as you both watch lovingly as Sam plays with your son. Bucky still remembers the time when you were pregnant with him, the random cravings you would have and the mood swings from time to time. There were a few hellish moments, but they were all worth it. Reminiscing about the past only made you more appreciate the present moments even more and anticipate the future.

"Happy birthday once again J."

Bucky didn't reply. But he did kiss you deeply.

A/N - this has been sitting in my drafts since 2022😐 I wanted to get this out. It started as a random idea which took me forever to write. Hope you enjoyed reading.

If you want to find out more about me or my works, you can head to my navigation.

[kaeyas-beloved]

baking + roommates || Leon Secret Santa || gift for @chesue00

cw: gn!reader, re2r!Leon, strengthening friendships with like… a crush mixed in there, au where there was no zombies and Leon got to be happy in RC as a rookie :3 tooth rotting fluff make sure to book a dentist appointment

I like to think Leon can cook well enough but can’t bake for shit <3 he gets flour EVERYWHERE

Anyway, I hope you like what I’ve written (it’s my first time writing Leon so I’m hoping he’s not too ooc + I haven’t written in some time so I might be a little rusty :(() and thank you so much to the people behind @leonsecretsanta for hosting this event :>

Leon had his fingers and toes crossed, knocked on any wood surface and whispered prayers that he’d been signed up for something simple. It's his first Christmas at the station and, as tradition, the staff were throwing a small holiday party. Everyone had a part to play, picked from a hat that acted more like decoration than its intended use, and when the time came to pull names, Leon, of course, got the only thing he couldn't do: baking.

And he couldn’t even just buy some sweets either! "Against the rules," his fellow officers said, which was fair, but definitely put the rookie between a rock and a hard place. So that’s why he’s here, staring intently at his phone, a short, kind text to his roomie that he hoped didn't relay how desperate he was. Hey, do you by chance know how to bake?

He sure hopes you do. You’re really his only hope for this. It’s not like he has a spouse or mother like his coworkers that he could go to for help. Hell, he doesn’t really even have any friends in this city yet!

The vibrate in his hand makes his heart beat faster than he’d like to admit, and as he reads what you’ve responded with, Leon couldn’t help but do a little mental cheer.

I do actually. Why, you wanna learn and butter up your police buddies?

— — —

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t surprised at how close your tease was to the truth, but the main point stood: Leon wanted to learn how to bake, and you were more than willing to help.

Honestly, bonding with your roommate wasn’t on your bingo card this year, what with how different your schedules were. You barely saw each other throughout the day, and when you did it was always quick hellos and good mornings. So to finally experience the ‘roommate experience’ you’d hear so often in media, you were pretty stoked.

The door opened just as you were finished pulling out everything you needed, that familiar soft and friendly smile greeting you as he walked through the door.

“Hey,” he said, the corner of his mouth tilting up a little more once Leon spotted you. Blues the colour of snowflakes scanned behind you at the collection of ingredients and baking tools, “thank you. Again, I mean, I know it was a little… a lot of a short notice. I really appreciate it.”

The smile you gave back was much like his, soft and kind, “it’s not a problem, really. I hope cupcakes is sufficient enough for the party?”

“More than enough,” Leon replied, a small, relieved breath leaving his lips. After setting down his work bag back in his room and freshened up a bit, the blond returned to your side, glancing curiously over your shoulder at the cookbook you were reading. You’re not sure if he noticed, but the proximity had you tensing just a little. Not out of uncomfortability, but rather because he was just so close and so warm and hot damn he smelt good too. You’re almost tempted to ask what cologne or soap he uses, only to bit your tongue, feeling it too weird to ask such a thing.

“Alright, so, baking is pretty easy as long as you got the recipe to follow and some common sense,” you started, moving on from the momentary fawning you had, pulling the metal bowl forward and handing it to him, “but there are some tips to it. Like starting with all the dry ingredients first.”

You sounded so sure, so confident, Leon thought, and it had him thinking it made you just a little more attractive. He’s sure he’d think the same if you’d been stuttering over yourself, but watching you take charge and teach him felt almost natural to him. He liked to learn and follow by example.

Leon gave his full attention as you showed him all the little tricks with baking, like how to properly measure dry ingredients, which measuring cup to use and so on. It was a lot, but he was a fast learner, something you commented on as well, which boosted the blond’s ego minimally.

He was only pulled out of patting himself on the back for appearing competent in front of you after you handed him the electric mixer with just the order to mix the dry ingredients. Well, how hard could that be? Sure, he’s never used one, but he’s seen people use them on the television. So, he tilts the bowl a little, sticks the beaters in and turns on the blender.

You caught him a second too late, the sound of the mixer drowning out the call of his name. And just like that, your roommate has covered himself in an almost comedic amount of flour.

Leon shuts the mixer off, and it’s silent between the both of you for a moment, as if it’s taking him a moment for the events to sink in. And boy when it does, he looks to you with an apologetic smile that’s some kind of mix between sheepish and dorkish.

“Ah-ha… sorry,” you didn’t think he could get any cuter, but the you spotted a faint blush on his cheeks. That was enough for you to crack, the sounds of your laughter filling the small kitchen.

Well, he didn’t expect you to laugh, but that’s better than you sighing deeply and being irritated with him. And honestly, it is a harmless situation, so he couldn’t help himself when he started to chuckle alongside you.

“I know it’s your first time baking, but the flour is suppose to stay in the bowl, Leon,” you say, your giggles dying down finally, though your smile remains. God, it’s been awhile since you had this much innocent fun.

Leon settles down too, wiping some of the flour from his face, glancing down at his powdered covered hand. “You don’t say,” he says, and without even thinking he flicks that excess flour at you, the lighthearted moment momentarily relaxing him as if he was with a good friend.

Leon felt his heart stop - now why did he do that? Why did he do that!? Sure, you two are friendly, and he’s sweet on you a little, but you’re not exactly that close. What he just did is what good friends playfully do.

“I, uh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-,” his awkward rambling is silenced by a return fire, a puff of flour from the bowl adding to the existing sheen of white already on him. When he cracks his eyes back open he sees you biting back another laugh, residue on your fingers pinning the crime on you, “okay, I deserved that.”

“Damn right you did,” you smiled, teeth and all. You really were just a ray of sunshine, bright and happy. Leon couldn’t have won the roommate jackpot better than he did with you - you’re fun, have a sense of humor, and super kind. “Next tip about baking: shit can get messy.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Leon agreed, wiping more of the flour off, this time brushing it into the sink. Most of it landed on him, so clean up wouldn’t be a huge pain in the ass, but clean up comes last cause a new mess is never off the table.

“Mhm, now, let me show you how to actually mix things without painting the kitchen in grains of sugar that’ll stay for weeks,” gently taking the mixer from him, you position it in the bowl, turning it on the first level (unlike him who put it on max), and begin to mix. “See how I’m not covered head to toe?” you tease, twisting the bowl with one hand while handling the mixer in the other. Leon chuckled under his breath while nodding. Something told him you might tease him about this for a long while.

After a few moments you stopped and handed it off to him, “now you try.”

As you suspected, he picked it up easily enough after watching, so well that you mentally patted him on the back. It was smooth sailing after that, mainly just following the recipe and mixing everything. You made sure to comment here and there about under mixing and over mixing and where the sweet spot was for this process.

With the batter poured in the tin and stuck in the oven, all that either you or Leon could do was sit and talk for a little. “You know, this has been pretty fun. Who knew, right?”

“It can be frustrating too, but yeah, overall, baking is fun,” you agree, “some even do it for that precise reason, because they find such joy in it.”

To Leon, that made sense, and he could see why a lot of people were like that. “Do you? Find joy in baking, I mean,” he found himself asking, not just to keep the conversation going, but because he found himself actually wanting to learn more about you.

You shrug a little, “to an extent. I don’t bake often, but there’s always the reward when what I make comes out good.”

He nods again, and a sudden question slips from his lips, “would you be willing to bake with me again?” He asked, a lopsided grin on his face. It was clear though he was a little nervous to ask, “without the mess, of course.”

Of course, you were a little surprised. You didn’t think this would be a reoccurring thing, yet you remember how fun it was to teach him, and the small moment you had with him. Perhaps he enjoyed his time with you as much as you did? You felt like you grew closer with him too, and you wanted nothing more than to be a real friend to him.

“Yeah… yeah that would be nice. I’ll show you how to make cookies, how about that?”

“Okay. Yeah, I’d like that,” he nodded, his smile widened a bit. He was looking forward to it, he gets to learn a skill, spend time with you and gets to see you in your element. It’s a win all around.

The next day when Leon brought in his share of the party, everyone teased him a little on the poorly iced cupcakes (you threw him in the deep end once they cooled, something about how his colleagues would think he ‘cheated’ by getting someone else to make them if they didn’t look like a newbie baker made them) but despite their appearance, everyone said they tasted good.

Leon was all too happy to reply that his friend and roommate helped him.

And, of course, he thinking about how much he was looking forward to making those cookies with you too someday soon.