#I just hope the brownies aren’t too sweet

[maxwhathappened]

The urge to send more is strong but I will not overwhelm you😭🫶🏻

Driver - Franco (idk if you write for him so if not Max)

Dish - cup

Flavors - lemon sorbet, pineapple sorbet, Rum Raisin

Drinks - brownies, mint syrup, peanut butter cups, white chocolate syrup

thank you so much for (both) requests. I am a much slower writer than you but i hope you enjoy this!

Order #2

pairing: Franco Colapinto x reader

warnings: smut 18+

word count: 1,765

order:

cup - smut

flavors

lemon sorbet - “Get back in bed right this instant!”

pineapple sorbet - “You can be so good when you want to. Why aren’t you good all the time?”

rum raisin - “Getting a little tired? Too bad.”

toppings

brownies - mint syrup - peanut butter cups - white chocolate syrup

soft dom! driver - hair pulling - spanking - aftercare

You woke up to the smell of breakfast and coffee. It didn’t take you long to find out where they’d come from. As you stretched your arms and opened your eyes Franco walked into the room with a tray that had a glass of juice, coffee, warm pancakes, and a single daisy in a vase. 

“Good morning, amor,” Franco greeted with a smile. “I made you breakfast.” 

“I see that,” you said with a giggle. “Why are you being so sweet, baby?” You asked as he placed the tray on your lap. “Did you do something?” 

“It’s our anniversary,” Franco said. 

“Our anniversary is in three weeks,” you replied. 

“It’s the anniversary of the day we met,” He explained. 

“You remember what day we met?” You asked. 

“It was a very important day, amor,” he answered. He settled next to you on his side of the bed. 

“You’re the best boyfriend anyone could ask for,” you praised. Franco smiled. He leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. “Eat. I have plans for you,” he instructed. You raised an eyebrow. 

“What kind of plans?” You asked. 

“You will need energy for them,” Franco said and winked at you. You rolled your eyes but started to eat your breakfast. Franco watched you fondly as you ate. You had grown accustomed to his staring and said nothing about it. When you finished you picked up the tray and started to climb out of bed. 

“What are you doing, mi amor?” Franco asked quickly. 

“The dishes,” you answered. 

“No, you’re not,” he said. “I’ll do them in a little bit. We’re not done in the bedroom.” You laughed as you started for the door. Franco was in front of you in seconds though. He took the tray from you and put it on the table by the window. “Get back in bed right this instant,” he instructed you.

“Why don’t you make me?” You teased him. Franco chuckled before he grabbed your hips and picked you up, taking the few steps you’d made it away from the bed and throwing you down on your back. He pulled off the loose t-shirt he’d been wearing and you took in the sight of his muscular abs and chest. He looked like he was cut from marble and your eyes greedily drank in his body. 

“You see something you like?” He asked smugly. You smirked. 

“Not really,” you answered. Franco smiled to himself as he slid off his underwear.  

“So, you do not want to be a good girl today then?” He asked. His tone wasn’t mean. He was entertaining your disobedience for now. He climbed onto the bed and hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties. He pulled them off in one swift move and then tore your shirt off your body as well, leaving you both bare. 

“Why don’t you make me be good?” You taunted him. Franco smirked. 

“I can do that, pretty girl,” he said. Before you knew it he was seated on the edge of the bed and he had grabbed your body, roughly pulling you over his lap. You were laying face down against the mattress, bent over Franco’s knees. You turned and looked over your shoulder at him as his hand gently found your ass, rubbing tenderly against the sensitive skin. A silent look passed between the two of you that told Franco he was free to do as he pleased. He smirked at you just before his hand came down against your ass, delivering a sharp spank against your skin. You moaned loudly. 

“Moaning? Don’t tell me you like it when I punish you,” he teased you. 

“Please, Francie,” you whimpered. 

“Aww, listen to you,” he cooed. “Already giving in.” 

“Another one, please,” you begged. Franco gave your other ass cheek a smack, the sting spreading through your body. 

“What do you say?” He asked you. 

“Thank you, sir,” you praised him. Franco rubbed his hand against your ass.

“You can be so good when you want to. Why aren’t you good all the time?” He delivered another two smacks, one after the other. You whimpered and Franco laid another spank on you. You bent your knees, shocked by the pain, your feet shooting into the air. Franco reached out and ran his hand along your calf to soothe you. He smacked you three more times before you were reaching behind you to ward him off. He grabbed your wrists, pinning them behind your back. 

“No more, Francie. It hurts,” you cried. “Please just fuck me.” 

“Desperate little thing,” Franco murmured. He gave your ass two light taps, signaling for you to get up. “On your knees.” You moved off his lap, and crawled to the center of the bed, settling on your hands and knees. He settled behind you and gripped your hips, pulling you exactly the way he wanted you. One of his hands left your hip and went to slide between your legs. He rubbed two fingers against your pussy and moaned to himself. 

“So wet,” Franco purred. He spread your cheeks wide and spit onto your pussy anyway. You gasped at the feeling of his spit hitting your cunt. 

“Franco, please!” You cried. “I need you!” 

“Shhh, shh, shh,” Franco hushed you. “You’re gonna get what you want. You know that, princessa.” You whined in protest and Franco gave your ass a light slap. You yelped and scooted away from him. He grabbed your hips, keeping you from getting away. 

“Francie, I’m sore,” you complained. 

“You are gonna be sore in other places when I’m done with you. Now be good. I am tired of the attitude,” he instructed. You closed your mouth. His threat wasn’t empty. If you were too bratty he could make you regret it. 

“Yes, sir,” you answered obediently. You shifted back into Franco’s grip. You arched your back, pushing your ass up into the air and shaking it slightly. “Please, sir?” You begged. Franco chuckled. 

“Okay, mi amor,” he agreed. The tip of his cock pressed against your pussy lips and you sucked in a breath, bracing yourself for the stretch of his cock. He ran a hand up your spine, softly caressing your skin. “Relax, baby,” he cooed. “I will take care of you.” He slipped into you, his warm, hard cock filling you till you finally felt whole. 

“Franco,” you gasped under your breath when his hips were pressed against you, his full length inside you. Franco leaned forward, pushing himself slightly deeper and you moaned. He reached out and gathered your hair in his hand. He tugged at it as he leaned back, making you arch your back and push against him at a better angle. His other hand moved to your hip, steadying you. You whined and clenched down on him, tired of his teasing. 

“Be good,” he ordered firmly. Before you could complain he was moving his hips, making slow and deep strokes, his tip pressing into your g spot with every thrust. His hand was still in your hair, tugging you towards him. He pulled harder, drawing you away from the mattress, your back pressed to his chest. Franco released your hair and his arm went around your front, groping at your breasts and touching every inch of you. He kissed the spot where your neck connected with your shoulder as he slammed into you. 

“Franco, I’m close,” you whimpered when his hand slid to your clit.

“I know, princessa,” he murmured into your neck. “Let go.” With his consent you came hard around him, your cunt tightening around his thick cock as your body pulsed with pleasure. Franco groaned. “You get so tight when you cum on my cock.” 

“Feels so good,” you cried, pushing away from him to collapse onto the mattress. He fucked you through your orgasm before pulling out and flipping you over. You looked up at him as you caught your breath. Franco smiled at you. 

“Getting a little tired?” He asked. You nodded, unable to speak. “Too bad,” he told you. He shifted your body till he had you where he wanted you and positioned himself between your legs. He lifted one of your legs, hooking it over his hip before he slid into you again, leaving you no time to adjust. 

“Oh! Franco!” You gasped as you felt Franco inside you again. He chuckled smugly. 

“Did I surprise you, mi amor?” He teased you. You answered in a strangled whine as he began speeding up his thrusts. 

“You’re so fucking big,” you whimpered as you hooked your other leg around him. His hand slid to your thigh to hold it in place. He loved to have you wrapped around him while he was inside you. 

“Gonna cum inside of you,” Franco murmured. He leaned down to kiss you. The kiss was messy and wet and full of tongue but as his cock pressed into your special spot and his body rubbed against your clit, you fell apart again. Franco moaned when he felt you tighten down on him for the second time and his hips stuttered. He made two more thrusts before he was cumming. You felt him filling your pussy and tightened your legs around him, pulling him in close as he emptied himself inside you. He let his body fall down against yours when you both came down from your highs.

“I love you,” Franco murmured and kissed your neck. You hummed happily and kissed the top of his head. 

“I love you too,” you told him. He pressed a few more pecks to your neck before he rose from the bed. He returned with a warm towel and wiped you up before climbing back into bed with you. He slid in behind you, his chest pressed to your back. He moved your hair to the side and kissed the back of your neck. 

“Can we stay in bed all day?” You asked. 

“We have a dinner reservation,” Franco said. “But we don’t have to do anything till then.”

“Good,” you replied. “I just want to stay right here in your arms.” Franco gave you a squeeze. 

“We can do that, princessa,” he promised. “We can do whatever you want.” You rolled over in Franco’s arms till you were facing him. You looked into his beautiful eyes and he smiled at you.

“What about what you want?” You asked. Franco kissed your nose. He tucked your hair behind your ear and gently ran his thumb over your cheek. 

“The only thing I want is you.”

[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!

[kechiwrites]

property lines

dark!steve rogers x neighbour!reader

kinktober countdown: day two (facefucking).

synopsis: your neighbour is inappropriate, and you aren’t quite sure how to broach the subject.

wc: 2.2k

cw: dark content, non con, oral (male receiving), femme language + afab!reader, pet names, internal victim blaming, pet names (sweetheart), a touch of misogyny

author’s note: day 2 brings us more dark!steve, i fear i may be incapable of writing him sincerely. he’s just a little too perfect. I like to take off a bit of the shine. thank you @katsukikitten u r my muse.

Your neighbour is inappropriate, and you aren’t quite sure how to broach the subject. Mostly because you can’t be sure if he’s doing it on purpose or if he’s just overly friendly. Maybe it’s the signals you give off, bringing a plate of thick, sweet, cheesecake brownies over to the recently sold house next door, hoping to make a new connection. Suburbia can be isolating, and with all of your friends shaking ass in the city, you need to branch out. It really isn’t the kind of home you figured a single man like Steven Grant Rogers would buy, but then again, you lived in your suburban palace alone, willed to you by your late grandmother and only in need of a few renovations.

He’d been so bright, when you first met him, with a perfect white smile and twinkling blue eyes. He’d been happy to accept the desserts, even happier to return the plate a day later, extolling the praise he and his poker buddies lauded on you over the taste. You’d shrugged it off, “The least I could do for a neighbour. I’m just glad you all liked them.” 

Secretly though, the compliments had thrilled you, especially once you’d gotten a glimpse at the aforementioned “poker buddies”, the whole lot of them, handsome, built, big. All too happy to fix leaky pipes and paint fences in exchange for chocolate cream pie or a dish of homemade lasagna. But Steven  - “Steve, please”  -  was your most loyal customer, always lending a hand, pausing during his early morning jog to check up on you while you watered your flower beds, asking how your book is going, what you do in that “big old house all by yourself” when you aren’t working on “the next great American novel”, of course (his words, not yours).

It’s fine at first, a little disarming to be at the centre of his white hot attention, burning your flesh like he had you under a magnifying glass on a perfect sunny day. But eventually it’s not fine, eventually Steve Rogers takes more and more steps over the property line of overly friendly and into the front yard of wildly overbearing. Eventually, Mr. Rogers insists on weekly visits, popping into your house by using the spare key under the mat he shouldn’t even know about. Slinging his muscled arm over you during the neighbourhood block party, and your neighbour’s son’s 5th birthday party, and the Fourth of July barbeque. He fixes your car without you asking, brings in your groceries when he sees you unloading them in your driveway, brings your mail to you during his daily jog. It’s helpful sometimes, yes, but it’s also suffocating. And you were going to set him straight. You were! But it’s hard, hard to stare into the face of a suburban god, the literal king of the neighbourhood and tell him no. It’s hard to tell him that he’s making you uncomfortable, that you’d like for him to stop being so goddamn friendly all the time. 

So maybe a little of it is your fault. Maybe you should’ve been clearer on your boundaries. Maybe, when handsome, strapping Mr. Rogers came to your front door to ask you to essentially cater one of his poker nights, you shouldn’t have stayed to serve the food, playing happy little housewife in front of Steve’s friends, bringing them cold beers from the fridge and sitting next to Steve, playfully making faces at his hand, then plating up dessert when he asked you to. But it felt good to have his attention. His favour. So when “the boys” start to head home, laying praise and amazement at your feet, you’re sufficiently buttered up for Steve to ask yet another favour of you. It’s not much, of course. Just a little help with cleanup. Then he’ll escort you home himself. After all, there are some real sickos out there.

So you agree. What’s the harm, right?

The harm, it just so happens, comes quickly after you finish drying the dishes Steve washes. You slide the last plate, towel dried as best you could, into his cabinets, sighing in contentment at a job well done. The harm is when Steve turns you around and presses you against the sink, water soaking into the back of your blouse, making the fabric cling to your skin. You stay there for a minute, not processing what’s happening, ready to laugh off another inappropriate joke from Steve. 

You don’t really get the chance.

Two heavy hands clap down on your shoulders, exerting pressure on you until you crumple to the floor, knees hitting the tile of Steve's kitchen painfully. You yelp, struggling against him, pressing, then beating your fist against his tree trunk legs. 

"Stev-" you choke on his name when your neighbour unzips his trousers before you, undoes the fly of the pair you helped him pick out, with him bent over your shoulder while you held his phone, his front pressed close to your back. Pulls his half hard dick out of pants starched and pressed with the iron he'd borrowed from you because his was "on the fritz" again. 

"Open up." He cajoles, and you pin him with an incredulous, confused stare. No. No. This is all wrong. He doesn’t act like that. Steve Rogers isn’t like that.

The hand he doesn't use to stroke himself grabs your jaw, squeezing until you open your mouth, squeezing til it hurts. A sharp, purposeful punch of his hips is all it takes for him to make use of the opening. All it takes to put every little joke, boundary crossing, and stray touch into startling, horrifying perspective.

“It was the baking.” He whispers above you. “Peggy never baked, which was fine.” He sighs above you like he isn’t pistoning his cock deep into your throat with reckless abandon. “But I missed it, y’know? And you, you bake how angels ought to, sweetheart.” 

Tears stream down your face while Steve uses you, dragging your dazed, crying face back and forth on his hard-on. On a particularly strong thrust, he broaches your throat. Your eyes roll up, until he can barely see the perimeter of your irises, and you warble out a miserable moan, begging, all while wrapped around his dick, for a reprieve. Your head is pinned to the counter behind you, and even though you shove against the muscle of his thighs, Steve brooks no quarter.

“Just take it,” he coos, like he wants you to swallow cough syrup, “it’ll be over soon.” his breath stutters when your lips brush against his balls. Steve moves one of his hands to cup the back of your head, keeping you as close as possible when he comes down your throat, groaning in pleasure while you struggle to swallow stream after bitter stream of his seed, lest you choke on it or fucking drown. 

He finally releases you, and you pull back so fast you bang the back of your head on his pristine white counters. The pain radiates through your scalp, grounding you in the moment, cementing you to the spotless linoleum floor of Steve Rogers’ kitchen. You’re both panting, eager to fill your lungs with gulps of air. 

“Whew.” He sighs, hands on his hips, like that took a lot out of him. “I didn’t mean to get so rough with you, just didn’t expect the struggle.” He chuckles, patting you on the head. “But you settled down quick, didn’t ya?” His tone takes on…contentment? Happiness? 

No. That’s not quite right. 

It’s pride. Steve is looking down at you, your spit and cum slick mouth, the weepy, watery state of your eyes, and the disarray of the hair he’d used as a handle, with pride.

Your stomach roils.

He bends low and you flinch away from him, smacking your head on the countertop again. He cocks his head at the involuntary movement, and smiles at you. A familiar, warm thing. One that made your heart flutter with pleasure, beat fast with your own surge of pride when he accepted a pie, or offered a compliment. Now it does the same, your heart speeds up, your palms itch curiously, and your brain doesn’t know if you’re happy or sad. Doesn’t know if it craves those smiles anymore. 

“Just wanna set you on your feet. C’mon.” He speaks quietly, like he’s soothing a frightened animal, and hooks his hand under your armpits, heaving you up with the same startling strength he'd used to face fuck the fight out of you.

“It’s okay.” You bleat, voice as wobbly and unstable as the pair of legs struggling to keep you upright. And it’s not, it’s far from okay, the taste of him lingers in the back of your throat and if you think about it for even a second more you’ll throw up all over his shiny floors, on those godforsaken pants.

“I admit,” he laughs, ducks his head with that small town charm he does so well, “I wanted to last longer. But you were too good.” He winks at you, like you share a secret. Like you’re in league with each other.

He staring, waiting for you to say something, arches a brow like it’s your line and you’re fucking up the show.

But there it is again, that smile, sunny and open, and so pristine.

“Let’s get you home.” He herds you towards his front door, hand glued to the small of your back, his pinky finger stroking the skin exposed by the riding up of your still wet shirt. The two of you walk into the balmy summer air, and the spaces in between the black night, punctuated with the occasional white streetlight, designate your path home. Some of your neighbours’ houses are still illuminated, their warm yellow windows denoting the presence of life. You wonder what goes on behind their doors, you wonder if someone is having a good night somewhere close to you.

You come across your door faster than you were prepared for, the cheery yellow paint job Steve and James had done for caramel apple pie, mocks you. The way he’d smiled in your face, touched you, laughed. Steve shifts next to you, holding onto your extensive tower of pyrex and tupperware, for an instant your blood runs cold at the prospect of Steve inviting himself in, like he’s done so many times before. Not to bring in groceries or put together a dresser, but to pin you prone to the carpet of your bedroom and smile at you.

“So!” He turns, “Same time next week?” You gawk at him, and when you don’t say or do anything, he stoops and slides your extra keys out from under your Garfield emblazoned doormat. The jingle of two, simple metal keys against the little bell shaped key-chain makes your head pound, your blood boil. He unlocks the door, and gestures for you to take a step indoors. You raise both hands, palms upturned so he can give the keys back, so you can hide them, or melt them, or flush them down the toilet. Instead, you get to watch him slip the key-ring into his pocket, before he places your dishes into your uplifted open palms. “I gotta say, the lemon bars were a hit.” He tweaks your nose between his thumb and forefinger, his compliment tempered by the greedy shine in his eyes. You nearly scratch your own eyes out when you get that pleased, soft tingle in your chest.

He smiles and you salivate. He compliments you and your heart responds. He’s proud and your brain tells you ‘I’m happy’.

Why hasn’t it gone away? Will it ever go away?

“Maybe those brownies again, the cream cheese ones?” His voice is hopeful, soft and pliant, like he’s worried you’ll say ‘no’.

Like there’s a world where he’d take no for an answer.

You nod, a jerky, quick gesture that rattles your brain around in your skull. “Sure. Yeah.” You answer, sweaty hands slipping against tempered glass and plastic lids. “Yes. Brownies.” Steve beams, clapping his hands together, once, loud, drawing your eyes to the brutish width of them.

“Fantastic. I can’t wait.” He jogs down your front steps, and the fist secured around your lungs loosens with every step he takes away from you. He pauses at the side walk, one foot still on your property, the other poised to leave it.

“We make a great team. Don’t we?” He turns to you, and this time, he isn’t smiling. This time, his eyes cut through the night and the streetlight and the foggy haze of misfortune clouding your brain.

And the fear finally comes.

You kick your door closed, and you lock your door, and you drop your pyrex and tupperwear and serving spoons in the sink and you lock your windows and you get into bed, still dressed for a poker night you had no business being at, and you pull the covers up and up and over your face.

But the fear doesn’t go away.

And neither will your neighbour.

god i want him so bad. tomorrow, captain soap.

find the rest of the masterlist here.

support city girls who bought $50 of baked cheesecake today, reblog what you like.

[buckysgrace]

Eight

Professor!Steve Harrington x fem!OC

Illicit Affairs Masterlist

Daphne meets some important people. Steve drops by during the sorority bake sale.

“Aren’t they cute?” She asked as she held up the cookie, proudly showing it off, “I should’ve been a baker.” She smiled as she looked at the sugar cookie between her fingers, showing off the sprinkles over the frosting. She definitely wasn’t good at piping, but she had done her best. 

“All you did was put icing on it.” Lila looked over, raising her eyebrows in disdain before she worked on bagging up her lopsided cake pops. Daphne hoped she choked on them. The bake sale had barely started and she already wanted to go home.

Their table was decorated cutely, filled with frills and little hearts to show off the desserts they had all created. Gillian had baked a little tres leches cake, full of strawberries that she’d cut to look like hearts. Daisy had settled for lemon squares and brownies, both perfect looking. They were also a recipe from her mother.

She’d tried time and time again to get along with her, but it just never worked out. They were too different. And she was pretty sure LIla wanted to kill her. They had started off as roommates their first year of university before Gillian and Daisy were so sweet to swap. Things hadn’t been so bad since then. But the hatred was mutual.

“It looks nice,” Gillian nodded her head, trying to keep the tension at bay, “Both items.” She smiled as kindly as she could, but her dark eyes were tense. She already knew that the situation could go very wrong. 

They had all dressed similarly, but her and Daisy looked the closest due to their white cowgirl boots. Daisy wore a short red dress, showing off her curves that Daphne was very jealous of. Everything just felt flat against her, as Lila had so kindly reminded her earlier. 

She had settled on a pink dress with puffy shoulders, although she now hated it. Lila wore a yellow dress that fit annoyingly well against her tanned skin, meanwhile Gillian had settled on a light blue one. 

“Are you expecting someone?” Daisy whispered, blue eyes inquisitive as she leaned in close. Daphne stalled, pretending like she wasn’t searching through the crowd for a pair of familiar brown eyes.

“Absolutely not,” She mumbled as she straightened out her cookies again, “Just seeing which tables are doing better.” She tapped her nails against the table, bitterly reminded of how she had gotten fresh paint there too. She was probably far overdressed. 

“Mhm, right,” Daisy shook her head before she rested her hand on her waist, “It’s written all over your face.” She moved her hand in a big circle, gesturing towards Daphne's head. She did her best not to scoff. Daisy was right in a very annoying way. 

“I’m hopeless,” She admitted, sighing deeply, “What’s wrong with me?” She groaned as she dropped her head, wondering how she was supposed to move on. She felt like a magnet that was drawn only towards him. 

“It’s cute.” Daisy teased her, speaking to her as she sold another bunch of her desserts. She was better at it than anyone else was. 

“He’s not interested,” She whispered low enough so Lila couldn’t hear them. She didn’t need her pointing out any reasons as to why he’d be uninterested in her, “But it’s fine.”

She served up cookies, smiling brightly and reminding people to vote for them. It was always easier to sell things to men. They were easy. You just had to smile a little wider, play a little dumb and act like they were interesting. It was a work out, but it usually succeeded.

She glanced around, her heart flipping roughly inside of her chest as she spotted a familiar face. Thick brown hair, warm skin and soft eyes. His pink lips pulled into a smile, making her stomach clench roughly at the way his gaze landed upon hers. 

But then she stalled, confusion sweeping through her as she looked at the way his hand was attached to a little redhead with icy blue eyes and pink freckles on her cheeks. She grinned brightly, exposing her missing teeth as she turned her head up towards him. She was just a bit taller than his hip.

“Thewe’s cookies!” She exclaimed as she walked forward, breaking free from his grip as she pressed her little fingertips onto the table. Her blue eyes were filled with curiosity, perhaps a little bit of mischief as she stared down at the other desserts lining at the table. Thank God the other girls were too busy selling their desserts to see Daphne falling apart. 

“I see that,” He chuckled, “See, I told you there would be something better than lollipops.” He gave her head a little tap, making her look up in surprise. Daphne felt her lips part, trying to recall where he had mentioned having kids. 

The sound of crying disrupted their moment, making him quickly turn away before he began to dig into the stroller that she had missed in her surprise. Not one kid. But at least two. Oh boy. 

“You have kids?” She spit out in disbelief, watching the way he balanced another little girl on his hip. He gave her a little bounce, making her strawberry blonde hair bounce around. She was maybe a little older than one, but her eyes looked dark enough that Daphne was desperate to compare them to Steve’s. Just to make sure. 

“What?” He looked at her surprised, brown eyes widening, “Oh no. No, I’m just watching them this afternoon for my friend.” He explained quickly, holding his free hand out and giving it a quick shake. She sighed deeply in relief. 

“My mommy and daddy are on a date!” The little red head piped up, smiling brightly as Daphne turned her attention down towards her. She nodded her head in agreement, feeling a little bit better suddenly. 

“Well how sweet,” She grinned as she leaned over, “What’s your name?” She asked, flicking her eyes towards the way Steve lightly dragged her off of the table. 

“Cherry.” She responded, looking down at her fingers in confusion as little pieces of glitter had rubbed off on her skin. Daphne thought it was a bit odd at first, but something about her little features really did resemble the fruit. It made sense. 

“Oh how pretty.” She praised her, feeling a little giddy at the way Cherry wrapped her arms around Steve’s leg. Okay, she could’ve definitely handled him being a dad. He certainly had that rugged look to him too. 

He mumbled something, struggling to get the pacifier in the youngests mouth. She eventually took over, gripping it from his hands before she popped it into her mouth on her own. Then she sighed deeply and dropped her head onto his shoulder. 

“And then this is Lottie and uh-,” He stalled as he turned the stroller around, “Ella.” He shook his head, making the other girl freeze from where she was trying to free herself from her restraints. She looked to be between the ages of the other two girls. 

“Mhm.” She grumbled as she fell back in her spot, crossing her arms angrily over her chest. Daphne stood up on her tippy toes, examining her blonde curls. 

“She’s a runner,” He explained as he rubbed at his chin, “Are you going to run again?” He asked her, tilting his head as he looked down at the little girl. 

“Maybe.” She replied slowly, narrowing her dark eyes as he sighed deeply. She had her feet and hands pressed up against the cupholder. She looked determined, like she was going to successfully make a break for it. He turned the stroller around, straightening out a little bit. 

“Yeah,” He shrugged his shoulders, “Sorry to bombard you.” He apologized gently, watching her for a moment like he needed to be reassured that this was okay. It was far more than okay in her book. 

“I’m not upset about it,” She told him truthfully, “I’m very glad you came. And that you brought such special guests.” She gestured towards the little girls again, trying not to look too much into it. But it certainly felt like something. He’d brought some very special people to meet her after all. 

“Sort of got forced on me,” He admitted, “But I do like hanging out with them.” He gave Lottie a bounce, brushing his fingers across her ribs as she giggled loudly. 

“I like cookies.” Cherry commented as she rested her elbows on the table, leaning over to get a good look at them. Daphne was suddenly glad that she had wrapped them, a little afraid that Cherry might try and touch them.

“Hm,” She looked at the colors on the cookies, “I think pink will match you best.” She said as she held it up, pretending to compare the color to her hair. 

“Thank you,” She giggled softly, “Ella likes -,”

“Blue!” Ella shouted, still trying to use all of her strength to break out of the stroller. She tried to wiggle it back and forth, just barely making the wheels move. 

“Then here’s a blue one too,” She nodded along, smiling, “What does your other sister like?” She questioned, looking at where the youngest was bouncing her feet against Steve’s leg. 

“What do you think, Lottie?” He asked, bouncing her softly as she looked down at the colors. She looked back towards him, holding her palms up in confusion.

“Yellow,” Cherry answered confidently, “Duh, uncle Stevie.” She held her little hands on her hips, giving him a pointed look. 

“Yeah, Uncle Stevie it’s obviously yellow.” Daphne teased in response, liking the little nickname they gave him. He met her eyes for a brief second before he traveled to her lips, making her heart lurch in response.

“Can I have my cookie?” Ella asked softly from her stroller, holding her hands up over her head.

“Do you want another taste of freedom?” He asked as he looked down into the stroller, raising his eyebrows as he waited.

“Yesh, please.”

“Stay with your sister,” Steve commanded as he sat Lottie down, giving her a stern look before he moved to the stroller, “You promise you won’t run?”

“Yesh.” Ella complied, holding her arms out as Steve worked on unstrapping her from the stroller. Daphne couldn’t help but admire his soft muscles, the way his back curved as he bent over to pick her up. God. She was attracted to every part of him. 

She spotted movement in the corner of her eye as Lottie wobbled over, pacifier dangling across her little tummy as her big hazel eyes looked around. She briefly acknowledged Daphne’s wave before she sidestepped her, stopping right in front of Daisy.

“Oh, hi. What do you want?” Daisy asked, almost jumping back as she looked down at the little girl. Lottie’s lips curled into a gummy smile, showing off the little teeth in her mouth as drool fell from her lips. 

“Daisy,” Daphne chided quickly, “She’s just a little baby.” She grinned, holding onto her knees and leaning down as Lottie threw her hands up over her head. She giggled, nearly stumbling back until Daphne balanced her once again. 

“She’s cute,” She replied as she curled her nose up, “Why is she staring at me?” She asked curiously, eyes a little wide as Lottie reached for her hand. Steve snapped his head up then, cursing as he tried to get Ella to sit still. 

“Maybe you’re funny looking.” Lila snorted from the other side of the table, leaving Gillian smacking at her arm. 

“Or you look like her mom.” Daphne suggested, tilting her head as Lottie tried to offer her pacifier up to Daisy. Daisy smiled, squatting down just enough to pat the top of her head. 

“Uh,” Steve glanced over, ensuring that the other two girls weren’t about to run off before he shook his head, “Not really. She’s just curious. Sorry.” He apologized as he lifted Lottie up, earning a little squeak from her. 

He shifted her around a bit, shuffling her awkwardly as she refused to twist her arms and legs in the right direction. He huffed once he got her in the correct position, wincing as her fat fingers fell to his hair. Daphne was completely enamored.

“She’s cute,” She replied softly, “You’re really sweet for watching them. Are they Robin’s?” She asked, poking the top of Lottie’s tiny shoe. Daisy agreed softly, bumping her hip against Daphne’s before she worked on distracting the other two. 

“Oh God no,” He shook his head as he fumbled for the money in his wallet, “She’s not ready for kids yet.” He chuckled as he moved to the other side of the table, cursing as he dropped his wallet.

“That’s a bad wowd!” Cherry spoke up, blue eyes wide as Steve finally managed to pull his dollar bills free. He sighed deeply as he dropped the money into Daphne’s palm, his fingertips lingering against her skin. 

“I know that.” He replied underneath his breath, brown eyes full of mischief as she felt her heart somersaulting inside of her chest. She breathed in deeply, just to confirm that she still knew how to do it.

“That’s a dollar.” Ella replied as she held her palm open, making grabby fingers towards him. A group of freshmen pushed by, stumbling towards Daisy and her pretty smile. 

“Ookie!” Lottie demanded, looking distraught as her eyes fell down to her older sister’s who were munching on theirs. He worked quickly, stumbling with the wrapper before Daphne reached forward to unwrap it for him. She chewed on her inner cheek, fully aware of his eyes lingering on her movements.

“I better get going.” He mumbled as he turned away, stepping aside so more people could pile forward. She knew it was a good thing that people were keeping them busy so they didn’t look suspicious, but she really hated it. She wished she could speak to him without so many listening ears.

“I get it,” She smiled, watching and he broke off part of the cookie and gave it to Lottie, “You’re good with them.” She stated, watching the way Lottie shoved as much of the cookie into her mouth as she could.

“I’m overwhelmed,” He laughed as he brushed the crumbs off of his shirt, “But we’re having fun.” He nodded as he gestured towards the girls who were too busy licking the icing off of the cookies to pay attention to what he was saying. 

“Good. I’m glad you came by,” She bit her lip softly, “And it was nice to meet you girls!” She waved at them, watching the way they turned their heads in surprise.

“What do you guys say?” Steve added, gesturing towards them as little smiles broke out on their lips. Even Lottie was grinning, but she was also slowly gumming at her cookie. Perhaps too lost in sugar land to really be paying attention. 

“Thank you!” Ella and Cherry spoke up at the same time, their fingers linked before they pointed off to where they wanted to go next. Steve nodded his head in agreement, holding up his index finger as he turned towards Daphne once again. 

“See you in class.” He smiled kindly, so softly that she felt like her knees might buckle. She nodded her head quickly, wondering if there were any lines she should be reading between. 

“Soon,” She promised with a nod of her head, “You have fun. I hear the band is pretty good.” She smiled as she looked towards the stage. He opened his mouth, but quickly shut it as Ella tugged him along. 

She watched him walk away for a moment before she was roughly reminded of the present she had made for him. Her eyes widened as she stalled for a second, reaching for it frantically and rushing around the table. 

“Wait,” She grinned as she approached, holding the cookie that she had made specific for him, “Here’s yours.” She nearly felt bashful as she shoved it out in his direction, hoping that he would like it. Maybe he didn’t like cookies? But at least she’d tried. 

“I didn’t pay for it.” He replied in confusion as he furrowed his eyebrows together. Lottie stared down at it, eyes wide as she reached a little hand out for it. 

“It’s for helping me out on my paper,” She reassured him quickly, “It’s on the house.” She held it out again, holding her breath as his fingers brushed against hers. Sparks of electricity spread through her hand, up her arm. 

“Well thank you,” He smiled softly, “I appreciate it.” He held it to his chest, away from where the little girls were trying to grab it. 

“I appreciate you,” She said gently, eyes widening as she realized what it might mean, “All of your hard work. I’m glad you’re not letting me fail your class.” She held her palms together, giving him a reassuring smile. She didn’t want him to think she was throwing herself at him again. Not this time. 

“Stevie!” Ella whined as she tugged on his hand, pulling him towards the stage. Her dark eyebrows were pulled together tightly, her lips smeared with the icing from the cookie. 

“See you around.” He grinned, sending her one last warm look before he turned around for good. She let her eyes linger for just a moment before she turned, packing up her pride and heading back to her little booth. She couldn’t be too obvious. 

“A family man,” Daisy teased as she returned, “Sounds perfect for you.” She gave her shoulder a little nudge, making a blush form on her cheeks. 

“Shh,” She giggled, nudging Daisy as she shook her head, “It’s not like that. I was just being nice.” She nodded her head, moreso trying to reassure herself as she sold another cookie to someone. 

“What’s your deal with him?” Lila asked accusingly, swirling her head around. Daphne blinked in surprise. 

“There’s no deal.” She stated easily, keeping her composure calm. Lila was clearly trying to get underneath her skin, just as she always did. 

“Sure.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes as she turned away once again. Daphne met Daisy’s eye, giving her a knowing look. 

“There’s not,” Daisy defended quickly, “She’s just trying to get a good grade by giving the guy a free cookie. Geez.” She laughed as she brushed it off once again, but Lila was already rolling her eyes again. 

“You’re not really using bribes, are you Daphne?” Gillian asked, “I can help you if you’re struggling.” She offered, looking worried suddenly. Daphne shook her head. 

“Oh my God,” She huffed, “It was a cookie! One cookie.” She didn’t think it was that big of a deal. It was just a little sweet treat. He could’ve just left her to fail or drop out.

“A giant cookie.” Gillian added with a pointed finger, making her scoff once again. Since when was a cookie such a big deal?

“He’s helping me not fail my class.” She reminded the both of them, trying to pretend like they were reading into it too deeply. She was being respectful of Steve’s boundaries. She was just being nice. 

“I had his class last semester,” Lila replied as she crinkled her nose up, “It was not a hard class.” She crossed her arms, her features wrinkling up in her judgy little way. Daphne inhaled deeply, choosing to be mature and ignore them instead. No one was going to damper her mood. Not after her interaction with him, not when she still felt like she was floating.

[1004tyun-archive]

my girlfriend 🫶🥺💎🩷 i just got done with the groceries and omg we got soooo many kinds of ice cream 😭😭 i didn’t find any ben and jerry’s of milk and cookies, there were only cookie dough flavors…

instead i got cookies and cream ice cream simply cause it made me think of you 🥹 it was new too!! i can’t wait to try it mommy!! 🥺🩷 i’ll tell you what i think of it~ we got raspberry, caramel, choco fudge brownie, cookie dough ice cream~ and sorbets >:3 i think the cashier looked at us like o_o and we were like “yes that’s a lot… they’re very good so…~” FHSJFJDJF 😭👉👈🩷

now i’m gonna make myself some chicken crispies hehe >3< 🩷🩷 i know nuggets are some of your favorite kinds of junk food so it makes me happy to eat it hehe 🥺 i wish i could share it with you~

mommy 🥺🥺 i don’t have much else to talk about that we aren’t doing in the dms hehe so for now i’ll be just confessing how much i love you ;3; 🩷🩷 my beautiful girlfriend is the best~ even as we were shopping i kept thinking about in a way or another… i would love to do groceries with you just to know what you generally eat and you know what i eat as well hehe >3< 🩷🩷 we could even learn some things to cook together~ my precious love, my crystal gem 🥺🥺💎🩷 i can’t wait for you to wake up, i’m sorry i took so long ;//; i love you mommy 🥺🩷🩷

my cherry beary girlfriend 🥺🩵🫶🏾

i haven’t been able to find the milk and cookies flavor either recently if it’s not where you are and not in my area, i wonder where it’s all gone 🤔🤔

you got so many other good flavors though!! so many options i hope you enjoy all of them especially cookies and cream my beloved 🤭🤭🩵 i really hope you like ir bc cookies and cream will always be THAT ice cream flavor for me not everyone can do it perfectly but when you have it made right it’s so mind blowingly amazing 🥹🥹🥹 if i was the cashier seeing all that ice cream i would’ve been so jelly like can i have some?? 😔😔

chicken crispies!!! :3 i hope you enjoyed them my love 🥺🥺 i want to have some with you and try your fave bbq sauce 🥺

my baby 🥺🥺🥺🩵🩵 i’d love to go grocery shopping together someday it’d be so much fun 🥺 i wanna see the kinds of things you like to eat~ it’s funny you say that bc i was just added recipes to our pin board there are so many things i want to make with you (mainly desserts but still djhshs) it would be so fun!! my soft sweet cherry marshmallow, my one and only 🥺🥺 you didn’t take too long!! i’d always wait for you no matter what 🥺🩵 i love you so much~ 🩵🩵

[borathae]

↳ Index [Snippet #33 - Sorry Boy]

“When Jungkook tries to make you forgive him.”

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: she is sulky & he is a dork, this is just cute and lovely

Wordcount: 1.1k

a/n: i have so many sweet ideas with this couple lately and you’ll get all of them. This is legit just something quick and cute because I love them 🥺

"Knock, knock", Jungkook says as he knocks on your door, "can I come in?" he asks and without waiting for an answer, enters your room, “darling are you still awake?” he asks. 

You let him know that you are indeed awake by turning even more of your back to him.

You aren’t sleeping in bed tonight. You decided that after having a big fight with your husband about his recent tardiness to your dates. It happened two times already. Today was the third time. He was supposed to meet you for lunch at the diner, but didn’t show up until twenty minutes too late. And because you slept terribly this morning and were already very sensitive about everything, you ended up fighting with him. 

Thankfully you both had to leave for the rest of your shifts, which prevented the fight from escalating, but the annoyance for him still remained. Not even the big bouquet of flowers he brought home could sway your forgiveness. 

"How is my chocolate swirl vanilla fudge doing?" he asks in hopes that the stupid nickname he chose will warm your heart. 

It doesn’t. You still keep your back turned to him, lying on your mattress with a pillow between your legs and a big frown on your face.

You and Jungkook have separate rooms in your forever home. It was the best decision ever, as it gives both of you a safe space of your own to escape to if you wanted to be alone. 

Jungkook decided to fill his space with his painting stuff and a gaming set-up, while you went with a bohemian chillout cave. A hanging chair, a big couch in front of a TV and a big mattress right by the window give opportunity for relaxation. You and Jimin spent many movie nights here, talking greatly about your husbands and sharing wine.

Jungkook squats down next to the mattress. 

"Is this idiot allowed to lie down?" he asks.

You don’t answer him.

So he pokes your hip.

"Beep, beep here comes the snuggle police”, he says, placing his palm on your hip, “according to my calculations, you haven’t received the correct amount of snuggles yet and I’m here to change that.”

You move your hips away, pulling the pillow, you have been hugging, closer to your chest. 

Jungkook huffs out air, but doesn’t give up. He crawls onto the mattress, but not before having to painstakingly remove your decorative pillows. 

He picks up one and another one and another one and one more and there goes another.

"Geez, why do you have so many pillows?" he says picking up two more, "it's never ending", two more and then he can finally reach you, "finally."

He sits down behind you with his legs bent. He places his hand on your shoulder, rubbing it softly.

"My peanut butter cookie dough, are you still mad at me?" he asks in a soft voice. 

You huff out air, shaking off his hand. He can’t sway you with cute nicknames. Never, ever.

"My caramel chocolate brownie", he whines, draping his arm around your waist, "I fucked up, I’m really sorry." 

You acknowledge him with a hum and a small nod of your head. 

Jungkook rests his cheek on your shoulder, looking at you with big puppy eyes.

"Please don’t be mad at me anymore", he whispers with a pout.

"Your head's heavy", you say, wiggling your shoulder. 

Jungkook slips off, sighing sadly afterwards.

"My cherry sorbet", he whines, changing positions so he is back hugging you, "what do you need to feel better?" he asks, resting his cheek on your shoulder again, “I can’t fall asleep when you’re mad at me, please my blueberry cheesecake.”

You like how he hugs you. You like having your back against his chest and your butt snuggled into his crotch. You also think that the nicknames are hilarious. He is such a dork and so cute and there may be a possibility that you kinda want to forgive him, but you also have a sense of pride left in you. Some may call it stubbornness however.

"Don't know", you mumble, "I'm just mad."

"Because I was late today?"

"Yeah and the other two dates before that." 

"I'm sorry. It won’t happen again." 

"Sure." 

"Hey, my matcha latte with whipped cream don’t doubt me."

You can’t stop it, you have to let out a little laugh. The names are just too funny. Jungkook picks up on it instantly, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. 

"You're so cute when you laugh, my lettuce." 

"Lettuce? What the hell?" you get out before having to crack up. 

Jungkook chuckles with you, pecking your cheek repeatedly. 

You flip onto your back, meeting his eyes. 

"You're so stupid", you say. 

"But I made you laugh, that’s all that matters", he says, leaning in to peck the tip of your nose. 

You roll your eyes, smiling fondly. 

Jungkook cups your cheek, caressing your skin with his thumb. 

"I'm sorry for today. I could have at least texted", he says. 

"At least you know what to do next time. You know, I love having lunch together with you, it's a really good idea you had. But if you keep running late it feels as if you weren’t even honest about wanting it." 

"I know and I won’t do it again. This week's just been way too stressful and I have so much shit going on in my mind that I always forget the time. It wasn’t your fault, just me being an idiot as always.”

"Don't say that, you're not an idiot."

Jungkook gives you a shy smile.

"Well most of the time of course. You can be an idiot sometimes", you tease.

"Hey", Jungkook complains with a pout. 

One you wipe away by brushing your finger over his lips.

"But you’re my idiot", you say.

"And do you love this idiot even if he messed up today?" he asks shyly, making puppy eyes at you.

"So, so much", you say, dancing your fingertips over his forehead and temples.

Jungkook exhales in relief and grins.

"I love you too, my egg."

"Stop", you snort, "those nicknames are not it."

"Yeah, they are. They’re funny." 

"I guess, but I don’t wanna be called an egg", you say, hooking your fingers behind his neck.

"Then maybe tomato?" he jokes, moving in closer.

"No, stop", you laugh, pulling him into a kiss. 

Jungkook laughs right with you, kissing you back even if all the giggling and laughing you are doing is making it difficult.​

[louisrarepairfest]

LOUIS RARE PAIR FEST (2022)

- Masterpost -

17 amazing Louis Tomlinson rare pair fics written by 17 amazing writers! Thank you all so much for joining the fest and sharing your fics with us!

With This Wing, I Thee Wed by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13 [Louis/Niall | Teen&Up | 4k]

“Nando’s?” Niall crosses his arms and pouts, a little line appearing between his eyebrows. “I want Nandos. I like Nandos.” “And I like my dignity,” Louis mutters.

enough to make a girl blush by @disgruntledkittenface [Louis/Niall | Explicit | 22k]

“When I saw you on the sidewalk that day, I couldn't believe it. It was like getting another chance or something.”

“Another chance?”

“Yeah, I think I liked you from the minute I met you in Ms. Conrad’s kindergarten class. It just took me a while to realize that’s what it was. A crush.”

Louis blinks. “You had a crush on me? The whole time we knew each other?”

“The whole time,” Niall says, not looking embarrassed or upset at all. “I don’t want to mess anything up for you, but I really like you and I really like spending time with you, and I just… hope that’s okay.”

When Louis moves from her small hometown to the city, she runs into her childhood friend Niall. Despite her surprise at learning that Niall presented as an alpha, she’s immediately drawn to her. As their relationship progresses and Louis settles into life in the city, she learns that love, sex and identity aren’t always as simple as she’d been taught growing up.

And she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Next Door  by @allwaswell16 [Louis/Rob Pattinson | Not Rated | 2k]

When a stray cat starts coming round Louis' garden and bothering his dog, Louis and his best friend set out to capture it.

Or a famous/famous fic where Louis and Oli embarass themselves in front of Batman.

over my shoulder  by @nouies [Louis/Sebastian Stan | Explicit | 10k]

The media thinks omega singer Louis Tomlinson is dating alpha actor Sebastian Stan because they bump into each other all the time.

Everything changes when they accidentally bond.

Not Sure How To Say This Right by @wabadabadaba [Louis/Florence Pugh | Mature | 7k]

An hour ago, Louis was working, her feelings for Florence in the back of her mind like they always were. An hour ago Florence was untouchable, just another girl Louis liked but couldn’t have. An hour ago, Florence was her best friend who was dating a man who made her miserable and didn’t understand her worth. An hour ago, Louis didn’t stand a chance.

Or, Louis had resigned herself to be Florence's best friend and watch from the sidelines as Florence gave her all to someone who didn't appreciate her. That was until she came home to Florence in her kitchen with a new hair cut, brownies and newly single.

Cigarettes and Chances by @faithinwalls369 [Louis/Liam Gallagher | General | 7k]

Event Photographer Louis Tomlinson isn't the luckiest of folk. On a whim, he decides to enter a competition via local radio, for a chance to have backstage access to Liam Gallagher's latest album release tour. Louis was already planning on snapping some shots but what he didn't bargain on was winning the competition.

The Concept Of Controlled Love by Kikiberoski16 / @larrysballetslippers [Louis/OMC | Explicit | 10k]

“I hope you don’t have a class or something. It won’t happen again.” He stood straight and put out his hand for Louis to shake. “I’m Andrew.”

It sounded so sweet and polite that Louis had no choice but to accept he was already in love. “I’m Louis, nice to meet you. I… I’m waiting for someone, but he can wait.” Louis shook Andrew’s hand and a blush covered his face.

“Umm, I think you meant to meet me?” Andrew squinted his eyes, but Louis’ mind went blank. “I’m Picture Nerd.”

Or, Louis and Andrew make a deal to help each other pass the term, but things turn out differently than expected.

Worth the Risk by Lhhome / @lhhomefics [Louis/Lando Norris | Explicit | 5k]

“Hmm.. I guess. I just want someone I can take the risks for H. Is that too much to ask for?” Louis sighs and flops backwards.“It isn’t too much to ask for and it sucks that there are things we have to worry about, that there is even a risk to be taken but well, maybe that's what love is, something that’s going to be worth the risk.” Harry says with a half shrug.

The one where Lando Norris just wants to flirt with the cute guy he saw from across the room and Louis finally finds someone who is worth the risk.

here with me by haveufoundwhaturlookingfor / @sup3rbloom [Louis/Nick Grimshaw | Teen&Up | 6k]

Louis has been secretly dating Nick, and things were going so smoothly, but then Nick finds out that he's pregnant and they have no choice but to tell everyone about their relationship.

Me And You Is All I've Ever Known by restless_rebels / @restless-rebels [Louis/Zayn | Teen&Up | 24k]

Zayn managed to break the hold Louis had on his chin and looked away. “I’m not throwing it away. I’m making room for you to do the things you want, and making sure I’m not stuck here, waiting. I’m protecting both of us.” Zayn explained, tossing the shoulder strap from the bag on his shoulder, and grabbed his phone and charger from the bedside table. “I’m gonna go get a hotel room. Have a safe flight Lou.”

Zayn started walking away, making sure his eyes didn’t linger on anything in the apartment. He didn’t hear any footsteps behind him, meaning Louis wasn’t following him. He chose to take that as a good sign, Louis was accepting what Zayn wanted.

“I love you! And I always will! I’m going to come back and prove that!” Louis shouted down the hall as Zayn opened the front door.

The Seduction Of Draco Malfoy by Stillwriting / @adam-my-adam [Louis/Draco Malfoy | Explicit | 7k]

The handsome, prickly stranger had melted into a wrecked, sexy, pleading dream…and Louis had done it to him.

Or: Louis needs a distraction after his tour. Draco still struggles with his past, Potter, and his dreaded mark. At the suggestion of his late-wife Astoria, he makes a trip to muggle London to try and put his old life completely behind him. He’s doubtful…but then he encounters Louis Tomlinson.

Demons Hide by sitandadmire / @louistomlionson [Louis/Four(Tobias Eaton) | Not Rated | 777 words]

"When are you getting that tongue piercing we talked about?"

Louis chuckles. "As soon as you manage to keep me pinned down long enough, love."

Running From The Sun  by wordsnnotes / @quelsentiment [Louis/Niall | Mature | 11k]

Louis growls and lunges at the slayer without warning. Niall easily deflects her, though, then grabs the collar of Louis’ leather coat with her unnaturally strong grip and throws her back into the wall where she came from. If Louis had been human, she might have been knocked out. It’s a good thing that she isn't. “Is that all you got?” the slayer asks, raising an amused eyebrow. “Oh, we’re only just starting, love,” Louis replies.

It's All Come and Go  by @haztobegood [Louis/Orville Peck | Explicit | 2k]

“Truck stops are like the original Grindr.” - Orville Peck, Coachella 2022

something runnin' around my head  by andfollowthesun / @halien [Louis/Niall | General | 7k]

When Harry had invited them to Anne and Robin’s party for their tenth anniversary, Niall had asked him whether they should bring anything, and Harry had shrugged in his usual way and said, “It’s mostly going to be my parent’s friends. You can bring something if you like,” which was as unhelpful as it was infuriating. Louis likes to think that Anne and Robin like them though; the three of them have been flatmates for the better part of two years, and friends before that. It would be bad form to show up to an anniversary empty-handed.

When you love someone, you make room by louloubaby92 / @louloubabys1992 [Louis/Jamie Campbell Bower | Explicit | 20k]

‘’Liking the view?’’

‘’Like your eyes actually,’’ Jamie says which…surprises him. He tilts his head, back and realizes how tall Jamie is up close. Their height difference is almost staggering.

‘’First thing I noticed across the room,’’ Jamie informs him.

‘’My eyes?’’

‘’They’re really pretty,’’ Louis is surprised again when Jamie turns shy, eyes cutting away, like him calling Louis’ eyes pretty is something of a secret. ‘’Surely you must have been told that by a lot of admirers,’’

-Jamie Campell Bower is a big deal, of that Louis is sure. He's a walking charmer with a jawline to die for. So, it's a bit of a surprise when Jamie looks his way, let alone approaches him to chat him up. Now that, Louis finds very, very interesting.

flame colored paradise by cinnamons / @sunbellylou [Louis/Mads Mikkelsen | Explicit | 3k]

A side smirk widened Mads’ lips. He looked like a sight straight from heaven in his dark three-piece suit, hair in perfect place, a relaxed look on his face, as if he hasn’t had a hard-on for the last half an hour. Louis loved how Mads was always perfectly composed, never a single strand of hair out of place. He could have his whole cock buried in Louis, with the boy falling to pieces in front of him, but not a single drop of sweat would dampen his face.

[marvelmusing]

Lunch Date

Part of the Guilty of Love AU

Pairing: Vigilante!Billy Russo x Fem!Reader

Summary: You decide to go out for your lunch break, and end up running into a certain someone. You really should stop being so surprised.

Word Count: 1.4K

My Masterlist

Work continues to be hectic for you. So, when your lunch break finally rolls around you seize the opportunity to get out of your office. You walk down the street and head to a small cafe that you like to visit whenever you need a break from work.

There’s a fair amount of people in the cafe, but it’s a comfortable change from the manic bustling of your workplace. You get settled at a quiet table in one of the back corners, and place your order. It isn’t too much of a wait before your food arrives, and you tuck into it immediately as you watch the people come and go during the lunch time buzz.

A familiar voice remarks quietly,

“You were right, the paninis here are really good.” Your entire body freezes. You’d know that voice anywhere. Billy.

Billy is sitting directly behind you, talking to you in a cafe - in public. He sounds far too smug about the fact that he’s managed to surprise you. You don’t turn around. You lift your drink to your lips as you say quietly,

“We’ve moved onto clandestine meetings then. A small heads up would’ve been nice.” You can practically feel his smirk,

“Where’s the fun in that?”

“I know you love to surprise me, but is this the smartest idea?” You can’t keep the concern fully out of your voice.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. There’s no CCTV in the cafe, and I came in through a side door. No one will know I was here.” He reassures you.

“Except me.”

“Except you.” There’s a pause before he adds, “I can leave if you want?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” You remark teasingly, and he breathes out a small laugh, relieved that you want him around. “You should try the chocolate orange brownies, I think you’d like them.”

Billy can’t suppress his smile. He loves it when you state things about him so casually - as if they were obvious. Like you aren’t the only person who knows him so well. He was considering the brownies, but now he’ll definitely try them.

“Any other recommendations?”

“The muffins are pretty good too.”

“Such a sweet tooth. A girl after my own heart.” He teases, and warmth blooms over your cheeks. He’s not wrong.

“I try.” You say softly, with a small smirk.

You manage to smother your smile much better than Billy. But you feel just as giddy as he does. This is the closest thing to a date that the two of you have gotten. It’s unconventional, sure, but the two of you don’t exactly have the normal kind of relationship.

“So, how’s your day goin?” He asks you as leans back in his chair. His shoulder brushes against you ever so slightly, and you shiver.

“Not too bad. My assistant is convinced she’s found you. I’m a little tempted to tell her she’s searching the wrong side of the city.” A smile tugs at your lips and you hear him chuckle.

“I hope you won’t be givin me away just for the chance to embarrass your colleagues.”

“Not yet. Depends how much they annoy me.” Billy laughs at that.

You’re both quiet for a moment, and you fiddle with your fingers. Billy can tell there’s something on your mind. So, he waits for you to voice it, which you do,

“How was last night?” You ask tentatively. The two of you don’t talk much directly about his ‘profession’. You’re already involved in it all with your job, so you’re not unaware of the things Billy does. But he likes to keep it away from you. Billy doesn’t want to taint these moments with you. He wants to keep you safe from everything - even him. But he’s always honest with you.

You hear him shift in his chair, before saying,

“Went alright. I got what I needed.” You nod, knowing what that meant.

“Are you okay?” You ask quietly. Billy glances down at his bruised knuckles. He’s just admitted to killing someone, and hurting countless others, and you’re asking about him.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m okay.” You can’t quite place the tone of his voice.

“You sure?” You feel him shrug,

“Bumps and bruises. Minor stuff, I promise.” Billy has only ever been honest with you. You know he would tell you if something was wrong. If he promises that he’s alright, then he’s alright.

“Okay.” You say, relieved that he’s not seriously hurt. There’s a small pause before one of you speaks again.

“Thank you.” He says firmly, wanting you to know that he appreciates your care. He hopes that those two words can show you how much it means to him - that there’s someone in this world that wants him to be okay.

“No problem.” You say lightly, but he can hear the emotion behind your words, meaning that you understood what he meant.

You spend the rest of your lunch idly chatting with Billy. He makes observations about the cafe’s customers that makes you laugh as discretely as you can into your napkin. You wish you could see his face when he sampled some of the sweet treats from the menu, but he praises your selection which makes you smile.

All too soon, you need to return to work. You can hear the pout in his voice when he playfully begs you to stay even a little longer which makes you smile. You gather your things together, your back to the rest of the cafe, meaning that you can look at Billy’s face for the first time today. He watches you as you shrug your coat on, your eyes on him. First you scan him for any injuries, you believe him, but you still want to see it for yourself. Once you’re satisfied by what your see you relax a little, and give him a small smile as his eyes meet yours.

“Bye Billy.” You whisper. The smile on his face flips your stomach, the corners of his eyes crinkling warmly.

“Bye sweetheart.”

»»---------------------►

The cafe is in a quieter neighbourhood, which means there’s very few people walking the streets now. You glance back at the cafe, though you know Billy will have gone out of the side entrance.

“Oh sweetheart.” A voice calls out, and you frown at the old wooden fence beside you.

“Billy? What the hell are you doing?”

“Walkin you back to work.” He states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“You can’t do that.”

“I can walk you to the end of this block, as long as you pretend to be on your phone.” He reasons. It’s a smart idea, and gives you a couple more minutes with him. “Unless you want people to see you talkin to a fence?” He teases.

“You’re such a dork.” You remark, pulling out your phone. “And you can stop smirking like that.”

You can already picture the faux wounded look on his face, and you chuckle at the thought.

“Are you busy tonight?” You ask him, holding your phone next to your ear in case someone catches you talking out loud - though the streets are rather quiet at the moment.

“Yeah, I’ve got another job.” He says, his tone apologetic.

“It’s fine, I’ll probably be working later tonight anyway.”

“Stay safe.” He insists, and you nod before adding,

“I will do. You too.”

“Course.”

You catch a few glimpses of him out of the corner of your eye, through the occasional gaps created by the warped planks of the fence.

“Once tonight is done I’ll be laying low. Maybe I could stop by tomorrow?” He phrases it casually, but he’s a little nervous still as he waits for your response.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

You reach the corner of the block, where the fence runs out. You stop on the corner, pretending to be waiting for someone as you finish your ‘phone call’.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.” You say, and you can practically see him nodding.

“Look after yourself sweetheart.”

“I will. Be careful.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I know, I just… worry sometimes.” You weren’t planning on admitting that, and certainly not with a fence between you. Billy wishes he could see your face. That he could hold you tight, and tell you that he will always find his way back to you.

“I’ll be alright. I promise.”

Billy has never broken a promise to you. You take a deep breath, feeling a little more reassured. You feel quite strange, giving a fence such a smitten smile as you say,

“Bye Billy.” You can hear the smile in his voice as he replies,

“See you soon, sweetheart.”

»»---------------------►

Billy Russo Tag List: @blackbirddaredevil23 @restingbitchsblog @tiredbeebo @rafaelakelley @theysayitscrazy @hummelmi @nyx2021 @skybridgerton @dragon-of-winterfell

[erwinsvow]

𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬 | 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧

author's note: sorry i just cannot stop writing headcanons! it's my favorite thing to write. i really hope everyone enjoys these, they include things from these two works of mine as well :) -shea

𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧

very much the involved boyfriend

once you guys finally start dating, he just immediately wants you guys to merge lives and share friends, even though that’s not a simple process

but it’s really because he cares about you so deeply he doesn’t want there to be a part of his life that you’re just not involved in

therefore; very involved

you guys manage your schedules together and plan out dinners and dates in advance

he mostly really likes having something to look forward too, like time with you

the kind of boyfriend that remembers little stuff you say here and there

like if you mention your mom’s birthday is coming up, he’ll ask later what you’re getting her and suggest some ideas. probably would send your mom flowers too to earn brownie points

or if you have a stressful week with exams and papers, he’ll stop by randomly with coffee and a snack and a hug

i honestly don’t see jean as the kind of boyfriend to start/carry on a fight, because he would hate knowing that you two are upset with each other. so i think any fights would be resolved pretty quickly

if one did happen to go over night or last a few days, he would definitely apologize first and bring you flowers, even if you were the one who started it

honestly though, with a guy like jean, what is there to fight about

overall, just a super caring boyfriend that makes the little stuff the memorable stuff

𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐭

the! best! boyfriend! ever!

i see armin as the ideal caring boyfriend

he just really likes to have someone to take care of, and he is also really touched that someone trusts him enough to ensure their heart to him

so he takes every measure to make sure he’s being the best partner he can be

a lot of emotional sharing, and i feel like would happen pretty early on as well

only because he is so trustworthy and you know you can tell him everything on your mind, even stuff that you maybe haven’t told anyone else

this just makes your relationship progress even further. you two are the couple that has been dating for a month but knows they are going to be together for a long time

speaking of, you are the mom and the dad of the friend group, which is so adorable but calls for a lot of teasing from your friends

but armin knows he’s going to marry you one day, so he just laughs when eren cracks another joke about it

𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐧

i’ll be real, this relationship is definitely not the easiest

reiner definitely loves you, don’t get me wrong, but a big part of him probably thinks he doesn’t deserve someone like you to care about him

which isn’t easy in a relationship because i feel like he would try and distance himself from getting too attached in the beginning

maybe he just thinks you’re going to see through him and realize you don’t want this anymore (which is not true at all, but just his intrusive thoughts)

i think you would try to reassure him about your feelings and how much you want this relationship, but then he feels like you shouldn’t have to reassure him, and that you shouldn’t be in the kind of relationship where you have to reassure the person. basically he thinks you deserve someone better, and you know that there is no one better for you

eventually i think this reaches a breaking point. through a lot of angst and honesty and tears, you two finally work it out

i think after clearing things up, things take a huge turn for the better

he definitely learns that there’s nothing wrong with being a relationship where you have to take care of each other, and he’s definitely thankful that you continued to stand by him

so sorry about this angst, but on the bright side, this man would be such a devoted boyfriend

his friends definitely make fun of him for looking at you like you hung the stars and moon in the sky

i also think all this angst would lead to you two being really open and vulnerable with each other, which is really important to him

also definitely a mama’s boy and can’t wait to introduce you to her

just like armin, he knows you’re gonna be his wife someday

𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫

even though i think it would take eren a long time to settle down and commit to a healthy, long-term relationship, once he does, he would be a great boyfriend

he is a really caring guy, and i feel like part of his hesitance is about opening up to someone if they’re just gonna leave

but i think he can tell early on that this would be different

i have a feeling his love language is quality time, and so you two are always planning little things together

he especially loves last-minute, impromptu dates that arise from a random thought

like he’ll grab two sandwiches and take you to the beach at sunset, even if you just got home or had something to get done

or knock on your door at midnight and take you to the nearest roof to stargaze together

i feel like eren is the boyfriend who becomes your closest friend over time

you guys go to each other first when you need to rant or talk or babble endlessly

it’s an interesting dynamic but it works well for you guys

the kind of bf that people assume he’s a single bachelor and will stay that way forever, or people don’t believe that he’s settled down, and then when they see you two together they’re shocked

𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭

you and marco have the most wholesome relationship

if i had to picture anyone whose relationship feels like the honeymoon phase even after a whole year, it is marco

he has a habit of making every small date, every meeting or interaction just feel so special, like every day is a special occasion

the kind of boyfriend who gets you a promise ring early on with every intention of replacing it with an engagement ring and wedding band one day

a big moment for him is introducing you to his friends! he knows they’ll love you, and he just wants you to meet the other most important people in his life

especially you and jean, this boy would be on cloud nine seeing you two get along so well. makes him super happy and teary-eyed

the responsible bf who takes care of everything for you, even little, everyday things so you don’t have to worry about it

like making sure there’s a cup of water on the nightstand when you go to bed, or setting an extra alarm to make sure you don’t oversleep, or reminding you about a deadline

overall just <3 boyfriend marco

𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧

the nonchalant, cool boyfriend who has to hide how sappy he actually is

pretends like he’s not nervous as all hell on your first date. acts like you leaning into him on the walk back home, or kissing his cheek at your doorstep before you say good night isn’t giving him heart palpitations.

also majorly touch-starved. after you two really open up to each other, which happens way sooner than he expected, it’s hard for him to keep his hands away from you.

he’s reserved in public, a simple arm around you waist or hands interlaced while you guys are out

but when you’re in the privacy of your home, it’s almost instinctual for him to pull you close

he loves when you lay your head on his chest, but nothing compares to when you let him lay his head on yours.

you stroke his hair and sit in silence, appreciating the quiet mumble of the television and the sound of each other breathing

always falls asleep like this, and he’s never been much of a nap guy, but ever since he met you, he’s reformed

not to mention your skin is always so warm and soft, and his is always on the colder side, so he’s just drawn to you

also i see him as the kind of guy who proposes out of nowhere, like you aren’t expecting it at all after a quiet dinner together at home, you’re getting up to grab dessert and he pulls out a ring

“how about dessert and naps for as long as we both shall live?”

𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐨 𝐠𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐝

once again, pock tries to put on a tough facade but we all know he’s just a softie on the inside

in fact, it’s a little while into your relationship that you notice him softening up with you, trying less hard to seem like someone else and getting more comfortable around you

you definitely don’t mention it, because you don’t want him to realize how you’ve been noticing it lately, but it definitely makes your chest feel warm and fuzzy at the thought of him being more himself

it’s not long at all before you can’t even see any semblance of that tough guy you met for the first time

the kind of whipped boyfriend that carries your bags when you go shopping, grabs your coffee order on the way to visit you, and likes to have quiet nights in more than going out

your favorite memories with him include watching rom-coms and munching on popcorn in his apartment, everyone else out and about on a saturday night

the leftover pizza is sitting on the counter, and you turn to go put it away when you notice pock teary-eyed at the movie!

yes, this boy cries at sappy romantic movies and you regret ever putting on the notebook that one night because you wanted to get laid after and that just did not happen because he was crying too much

but also just treats you so right and has every intention of being the best boyfriend he can, doesn’t ever want to do anything to hurt you and is highkey very glad he met you and has someone to be so open and comfortable with!

𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫

can you spell boyfriend material.

the most comforting, wholesome boyfriend in the world. you actually can’t believe he’s single when you guys meet for the first time, because there’s just no way.

this is the take him home to meet your parents guy, introduce him to your friends right away guy because you know it’s serious

i talked about how bertholdt is the bf who just listens to your talks and rambles for as long as you need to, and always offers advice and sweet words, but he really does take it to the next level

lets you cry it out when you need to, rubbing your back and hair softly and not minding when his shirt is covered in tears

or alternatively lets you rant about your annoying professor or a terribly rude stranger or whatever else is plaguing your mind today

texts you every day asking how you’re doing, always calls you before bed if you guys aren’t together

he just has the ability to make you feel so heard and seen

and of course you never forget to take care of him, as well. it makes for a really comfortable dynamic.

very easy to imagine spending the rest of your life with him despite the fact that he has kicked you off the bed multiple times in his sleep

𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐡

alternatively, husband material

takes all of five minutes into having a conversation with him to realize this is a responsible, mature guy

which are usually far and few between

i’d like to think he’s similar to marco in the way that he likes to make sure things are taken care for you, he likes to get things off of your shoulders even though you feel like you should be doing it for him instead

this translates to a lot of checking in phone calls, making sure you’ve eaten dinner and haven’t skipped meals because of your busy schedule

always makes time for you and especially loves having date nights every saturday, it’s wonderful when you haven’t been able to see him all week

anyways, you get engaged and married so fast bc you just had to snatch him up

[spyoikawa]

still on that saiki k brainrot so hear me out-

metori, saiki, teruhashi, aren and hairo with an s/o who really loves to bake/cook-

no thoughts just Reader learning how to make coffee jelly for saiki (like maybe they make him a tower of coffee jelly for an anniversary or his birthday-). no thoughts just Reader cooking something for metori who pretends to not want to eat it cause it’s ‘peasant food’ but ends up really enjoying their cooking. no thoughts just cooking/baking date with teruhashi. no thoughts just teaching aren how to cook/bake and having a food trade with him, bringing him lunch/a snack to school. and no thoughts just hairo hyping Reader up while they cook/bake and making stuff for him to bring to class rep meetings-

thank you! <3

the excitement I got got I saw teruhasi- i don't see a lot of writing for her and I get happy when I get to do less than common things! Thanks!

I'm running low on creative juices, so please I hope you don't mind if I use the exact scenarios you suggested 💀

Note: some of the things I wrote felt really rude so please don't mind the tone tags in parentheses, also i have not edited this yet

Saiki, Teruhasi, Hairo, Aren, and Saiko with an S/O who can cook/bake

♡romantic♡

Saiki Kusuo (italics = saiki telepathy)

Although it was undeniably tasty, your boyfriend's obsession with coffee jelly was not only getting out of hand but also quite expensive-

I mean he spent 3,000 yen for one serving-

But yanno what it's ok, coffee jelly is easy to make, and this gives you an excuse to hang out (not that you need one)

"Ok Ku, i had an idea"

I like it, just make sure you teach me how to do it too

"Rude. I wasn't finished"

You did in your head

As endearing as it could be sometimes, Saiki's mind-reading could be a pain occasionally

You wound me.

"Good. (/j)"

After a long debate over recipes and serving sizes, there it was, in all its glory, your first batches of coffee jelly

it was heaven

You did end up sharing the recipe with him, but it still became a little tradition to make the coffee jelly together

It just tastes better that way :)

Kokomi Teruhashi

In the midst of your TV and cuddles date, Kokomi huffed and turned off the TV

But of course it was rude to just turn off the TV, so she offered to play a board game instead

You did play with her, but your curiosity was begging as to why she wanted to change the activity

"Hey Kokomi, this game is fun, don't worry... but why'd you turn off the TV so suddenly?"

"Oh, it was nothing! I just thought you would like this game, and I wanted you to enjoy yourself more!"

Now, that's the answer the most perfect girl in the world would give

But Kokomi is still human, there's gotta be something wrong

You spent a while thinking to yourself about what you were watching, you two agreed on a documentary, then after the documentary, the channel played a cooking show with a guest baker/cook Makoto Teruhashi- oh.

So that was it

At the end of the round, you stood up and offered your hand to pull up Kokomi with you.

"Hey, wanna make a bet?"

She looked up with a bit of curiosity.

"I bet you, I can make your favorite dish, far better than Makoto can"

She smiled a bit, "sure!"

Her favorite food was simple, so you taught her to cook it and added in some other things just for fun (and so she can't recreate it without your secret ingredients)

Now you guys have cooking dates often and always find ways to spice up foods (and beat Makoto at whatever he was doing on tv)

Hairo Kineshi

my thoughts and prayers go to you

we all saw what happened when he tried to make crepes

but in his mind, it was a learning opportunity

You guys were taking an after-school stroll, the weather was really nice, it would be a shame if you two just went home and did nothing. Walks like these tend to get sentimental and nostalgic, so your conversation subconsciously started to drift towards school life.

"And do you remember that time we had to get kuboyasu, kaido, and nendo to play on a baseball team? Oh my god thank god it didn't go too poorly, that one player really pulled through at the end..." you laughed out

"Haha I do remember that, I can't believe we got them to play, it really could've gone worse" He smiled as he remembered that day, but then his eyes drifted up to a bakery across the road. "Speaking of poor experiences..."

after he explained to you he and kaido's crepe disaster, you couldn't help but tease fun at him for a bit

but you did agree to teach him more about cooking and baking

he's a bit too passionate about cracking eggs, but hey, at least you can work faster

after many, many burnt crepes and pans, there it was, a fallen appart, incorrectly folded, but still a properly cooked crepe sat there in all its beauty

it kinda looked like this

Although he does learn many different things with you, crepes will be the thing he makes over and over again, even when he has it down to a science, just because it's the first thing you taught him, and he will keep that sweet memory forever (get it. sweet? Cause crepes? Im funny i swear.)

Aren Kuboyasu

He actually knows how to cook pretty well

He's not really sure when he picked up cooking, its kinda just stuck around, but he enjoys it, it makes him seem more goody

and he can treat you :)

I will die on my "aren lives for the most basic/domestic activities hill"

cooking with him is always an experience, he will play music in the background, and pull you aside to dance at random times

also does that really hot thing where he stands behind you, reaches around to hold your hands, and basically has you in a cage while showing you how to do something

it's one of those spontaneous things to do, if there's nothing else to do, might as well make something to eat

firm believer in "if you have to eat to live, you might as well eat delicious foods" so he will always try out new things with you if its healthy and tasty

"bab look at this show" you called out from where you were sitting, there was a cooking show/food documentary on, and it was showing a special food. "it says this chicken has a secret sauce they dip it in"

he walked over to the tv and watched it for a couple seconds, thinking a bit.

"...wanna figure it out?"

"yes. I'll make the chicken if you figure out the sauce?"

"deal."

will you ever know if you got the secret sause? Nope, but you did figure out a chicken recipe that is good as hell

he probably writes down all the recipes you "invented" together for safekeeping and so he can return to it later, but he refuses to show it to anyone

Saiko Metori

as much as I love him, we all saw in that one episode how picky he is while eating, and is probably a bitch to please while cooking/baking

so after a lot of convincing, you got him to sit in the kitchen with you so he can watch you bake for the two of you

in reality, all you have to do is give the dish a fancy rich-sounding name, you just have to be really careful with what you say

like this 💀

you decided to bake for him today, baking is a lot more "by the book" than cooking, so you thought he would take a bit of comfort in knowing it was done in a professional way

"alright tori, so I think I'll make a heavy pastry made with fine cacao and extracts, baked into a rich dessert for a fine sweet palette"

"you're making brownies aren't you"

"🧍‍♂️"

Told you, you have to be as specific as possible

He does eventually get interested in what you're doing though, as he never really sees his personal chef cook, and wants to help you by the end

He really did enjoy it! It quickly became one of his favorite treats

But funny enough, no matter how many bakeries he tried or how many times his chef tried, they never tasted the same

(you put in special spices as your own little mark on the treat)

so he ends up having you over for more cooking dates

Which he really does enjoy btw

as a tsundere he will look all annoyed and probably call you a plebe, but these are his favorite types of dates

[helaintoloki]

Meet the Family

pairing: Pietro Peter Maximoff x fem!reader

warnings: angst, manipulation, reader is a Westview hostage controlled by Wanda, etc., 2.5k in length

notes: writing a piece that takes place in the WandaVision universe was such a challenging and fun experience, and I really tried to capture the same dark undertones of the show so I hope you enjoy!

summary: An innocent family dinner with Pietro’s new girlfriend reveals that life in Westview is not what it seems. Uncle Pietro introduces y/n to the family!

Y/n almost feels like she’s being watched as the warm hand of her boyfriend— since when do I have a boyfriend?— carefully guides her trembling figure up the front steps of his sister’s house and rings the doorbell. Her grip on the glass dish of brownies in her hands is so impossibly tight she fears she might just break it, and when the silver haired man swoops down to steal a kiss from her cherry gloss stained lips she can’t help but to feel nauseated. The sickness morphs into guilt immediately, and when he looks down upon her with a gaze so tender and fond she forces herself to bat her eyes and smile at him. What kind of girlfriend is horrible enough to be disgusted by a kiss from her own boyfriend? Something isn’t right here...

“Don’t even sweat it, babe, my little sis is going to love you!” Pietro comforts with an easygoing grin plastered on his features.

“I hope so,” y/n murmurs quietly, nervously chewing at her bottom lip. This is the audition, her one shot at impressing the boss, and if even one tiny minuscule detail is thrown out of place then there goes her new house and fancy wardrobe and y/n is written out of the show. Permanently.

“My girlfriend is such a worrywart,” he laughs fondly with a gentle pinch of her cheek. It’s as if a switch is flipped inside of her, and this time when she smiles at him it is genuine and full of unadulterated love.

“I just want everything to be perfect, I know how much this means to you,” she replies earnestly, too dazed to notice the soft aww that drifts through the air from the audience. Pietro smiles.

“Man, did I luck out on finding the most perfect girl in the world or what?”

“Well us being together certainly isn’t a coincidence,” she notes with a small smile. The uneasiness begins to wash over her again, but y/n isn’t given a chance to dwell on the feeling as the front door swings open and a vibrant looking young woman stands in the doorway, almost beaming at the two with pure glee.

“Thank goodness you made it!” She exclaims, hand delicately resting on her chest to showcase her relief before she pulls the stranger her brother into a hug.

“Like we’d really miss Sunday dinner,” Pietro jokes before pressing a chaste kiss to his sister’s cheek. His hand returns to the small of y/n’s back and the fond smile pulls at his lips again. “Wanda, I’d like to introduce you to a very special little lady, my girlfriend y/n.”

“Oh, she’s very special indeed,” Wanda notes with an overzealous wink, ignoring the way in which the brownie dish begins to tremble in the poor girl’s hands. Just a little stage fright, that’s all. “It’s very nice to meet you, y/n. I’m Wanda.”

“It’s an honor to meet you,” the girl replies earnestly, “Pietro has told me so much about you.”

“Well aren’t you sweet! Please, come in,” Wanda grins, ushering the two inside before shutting the door. “Boys, Uncle Pietro is here!”

“What a lovely place you have,” y/n compliments. Her eyes scan the perfectly decorated home in wonder, awe, and a third thing she can’t quite place for if she dwells on it for too long her head begins to ache and her surroundings begin to grow fuzzy.

“Oh, please, it’s just a little something I threw together,” she jokes, canned laughter echoing distantly in the background of y/n’s mind.

“Uncle Pietro!” Two voices exclaim, and y/n watches curiously as her boyfriend lets out an ecstatic laugh before rushing forward to scoop the twin boys in his arms.

“If it isn’t my favorite little trouble makers!” He grins, making sure to ruffle both heads of hair. “Billy, Tommy, say hi to your aunt y/n.”

“Hi, aunt y/n,” Billy greets politely. Tommy is at her side in an instant, movements so quick y/n can’t help but to let out a startled yelp as he lunges for the dish in her hands.

“Are those brownies?!”

“Tommy, where are your manners?” Wanda chides gently, shaking her head with a laugh and reaching for the pastries. “Boys will be boys. I’ll take these off your hands.”

“Oh, uh, yes, thank you...” y/n murmurs softly, brows stitched together in discomfort.

“You’ll have to excuse my husband’s absence, another late night at the office. You know how it is, don’t you?”

“I can’t say I do.”

“Hmm... Well, make yourself comfortable. Dinner will be ready soon, I’ll just go put these in the kitchen.”

“Oh, do you need any h-“

“No,” Wanda blurts out abruptly, startling everyone in the room. She plasters on a smile, “No thank you. How can I be a good hostess if my guest is doing all the work for me?”

“You’re right, I’m so sorry,” y/n flounders, panic clear amongst her features. “I-I didn’t mean to impose at all.”

“No apologies,” the woman murmurs quietly, a small smile on her lips and an admonitory glimmer in her eyes, “we’re going to have a nice family dinner, and everything is going to be just perfect.”

The tension in the air is suffocating, wrapping itself in a slow growing hold around y/n’s neck. Her eyes begin to water, bottom lip quivering in fear as she looks around the room that suddenly feels too big and too bright. She doesn’t belong here with these people, something is wrong, the man she came here with is not hers, and as Wanda’s figure retreats behind the kitchen door y/n makes a mad dash towards the nearest exit.

“Whoa!” Pietro exclaims with an uneasy laugh, and in a blue flash she suddenly finds herself being scooped up off her feet and tossed back down on the couch in between the apprehensive twins faster than her fried brain can even comprehend. “Not so fast there, missy. Just where do you think you’re going?”

“I... I don’t feel right,” the young woman murmurs, wincing at the uncomfortable dryness of her throat as she swallows. “I want to go home and lie down.”

“Don’t be like that, babe,” he chides with a disappointed frown, “this is my family.”

“But what about my family?” Y/n whispers, tears welling in her eyes as she realizes that whenever she attempts to picture the life she once lived not a single thing comes to mind. “I don’t have a family.”

“This is your family now. We talked about this, remember? We came to Westview to make Wanda happy, and you don’t want to upset her, do you?”

“No,” she replies meekly, shuddering when the calloused pad of his thumb swipes across her warm cheek to remove any evidence of tears. No, I don’t want to make her unhappy, because if I do then I’m written off the show and I don’t know what will happen to me if I am. “I want to spend time with my new family.”

“Atta girl,” Pietro grins as he cups her face with both hands and brings her in for a kiss.

“Yuck!” Tommy exclaims in disgust from beside the couple, and this time y/n can’t help the bubbly laughter that escapes her at the young boy’s antics. Any memory of her previous meltdown is quickly wiped from her mind, and all she can think of now is how utterly grateful she is to be loved by such a wonderful man and be taken in by his wonderful family.

She pulls Pietro in for another kiss and giggles uncontrollably when he responds by tickling her sides, all while Wanda watches carefully from behind the scenes.

~~~

“Dream of better lives, the kind which never hate. Trapped in a state of imaginary grace.”

Her voice is quiet and serene as she hums along to the Modern English song playing on the radio, a content smile on her face as she washes the dishes leftover from dinner. It was the least she could do after the lovely evening Wanda had hosted; her sister-in-law had been called upon by the neighbor Agnes for a task that hadn’t quite been specified, so y/n was happy to tidy up while her boyfriend spent quality time with the boys. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt as happy and content as she did now— she couldn’t remember anything, really— and y/n knew then and there that moving to Westview with Pietro had been the right decision for the family, for his sister and themselves, and for the children, too. Yes, everything was just peachy keen.

The kitchen door swings open and in walks a man y/n has never seen before. He looks just as surprised as she is when their eyes meet, an awkward smile on his red face and the morning paper in his hands, and y/n slowly drops the dish she had been washing back into the sink.

“Hello,” the man greets curtly, “I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of meeting before.”

“I’m afraid not,” y/n agrees with a bashful smile, quickly removing her rubber gloves so that she may extend her hand towards him for a shake, “I’m y/n, Pietro’s girlfriend.”

“Ah, yes...” he murmurs lowly, cautiously shaking her hand and sizing the woman up and down until she shrinks under his gaze. He means her no harm, but he isn’t sure whether or not she’s part of this cooky little play or just another victim cast under Wanda’s spell. He smiles suddenly, the gesture startling the girl. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Vision.”

“Oh, yes! Of course. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“May I ask where my wife is?” Vision asks.

“She went off to the neighbor’s,” y/n explains before promptly returning to her dish washing. The radio sounds distant and warbled now, the song she had been singing along to now nothing but static and jumbled up syllables, but to Vision’s dismay she doesn’t seem to notice in the slightest.

“How are you enjoying Westview?”

“I’m having the best time. Pietro and I have been talking and we might just have to hunker down in our own little place,” she says with a giggle. “It would be nice to be closer to you all.”

“I must say, having you and Pietro here was quite the surprise.”

“Not a bad one I hope,” she frowns. Vision guiltily refuses to meet her gaze.

“No, not at all. But, might I ask how you two came to be?” Vision asks apprehensively, adding on so that she doesn’t feel cornered, “I’m sure it must be a lovely story.”

“Oh, yes! I remember it like it was yesterday,” y/n swoons dreamily, a fond smile plastered on her face and her gaze casted out towards the living room where Pietro sits playing video games with the boys. She blinks once, twice, eyes never once leaving the silver haired stranger in the couch. A pregnant pause hovers over the two, the porcelain plate trembles in her hands, and Vision watches in silent horror as her eyes begin to well with tears.

“Y/n?” He calls gently, fingertips carefully brushing against her elbow in an attempt to bring her focus back to him. He removes the plate from her iron grip and sets it back carefully in the sink before turning the girl by the shoulders to face him; she still wears that same adoring smile despite the tears that silently fall down her cheeks.

“Forgive me,” she murmurs quietly, “I can’t seem to gather my thoughts properly.”

“Who did this to you? Was it Wanda? Pietro?” Vision press urgently. Y/n sways slightly when he shakes her by the shoulders in a desperate attempt to break her from her trance but still her smile remains.

“Pietro? Oh, he loves me, and I love him.”

“My dear, I don’t think you do,” the man utters sympathetically.

“Of course I do, silly. We were made for each other.”

“Perhaps you were, but not in the way you think. Y/n-“

“Please let go,” she interrupts in a soft, steady voice, looking up at him like a scorned child, “you’re scaring me.”

“If you would just let me,” Vision begins to say, fingertips reaching for her temple in preparation to break her from the spell only to be interrupted by another presence in the room.

“Whoa, what’s going on in here?” Pietro asks with a raised brow and uneasy laugh. “Hey toaster oven, you mind maybe letting go of my girlfriend?”

“Of course, my apologies,” Vision murmurs, stepping away from the girl and allowing her to run into the arms of her boyfriend.

“You okay, babe?” He asks with a raised brow. She isn’t, not in the slightest, but she has a job to do and a role to play, so she merely bats her eyes at him before leaning up and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Never been better. Hey, how does dessert sound?”

“I think that sounds lovely,” Wanda chimes, her sudden appearance in the kitchen doorway startling the already present trio. Vision looks like a deer caught in headlights when Wanda saunters over and gifts him with an innocent kiss to the cheek. “Why don’t you and Pietro get the boys settled down while y/n and I prepare the dessert?”

“What a lovely idea, darling,” Vision chimes with an easy smile— y/n isn’t the only one with a role to play. “Come now, dear brother-in-law.”

“Take good care of my girl, little sis,” Pietro calls on his way out. Wanda smiles, her eyes never once leaving y/n’s trembling frame.

“But of course. What is family for? Y/n, be a dear and grab the plates, won’t you?”

“Yes, Wanda,” the girl chimes obediently. She smiles.

“I noticed you seemed a little shaken up just now, is everything alright?” Wanda asks, feigning obliviousness.

“Oh, you know, just some friendly questioning from my new brother-in-law. I’m sure he just wanted to make sure Pietro had found the right match,” she explains with a passive wave of her hand. Wanda hums softly.

“Well we don’t need to worry about that,” she notes. “You’re here for a reason, y/n. Do you know that?”

“For Pietro, and for you,” she replies earnestly, smiling when Wanda takes her hands in her own and gives them a gentle squeeze. “You’ve always wanted a big family, a real family, one that would never turn its back on you or leave you behind ever again. You want a sister and nieces and nephews and love, and I’m here because I can do all of that and more for you.”

“Exactly right. Family is forever, y/n. Are you ready for the commitment that comes with being a Maximoff?”

“I’ve never been more ready,” y/n responds eagerly. Wanda smiles.

“I’m so relieved you said that,” she utters gently, pulling y/n in for a hug so that she may not see the way in which her eyes begin to glow red and waves of energy begin to emit from her fingertips as she carefully settles herself fully into the girl’s mind. She fills her head with thoughts of Pietro and family, with memories she’s never lived and feelings she’s never had, she fills her with love, and y/n is none the wiser.

“Congratulations, y/n,” Wanda utters quietly, comfortingly stroking the girl’s hair, “you’re a Maximoff now.”

[whump-a-la-mode]

may i gently request perhabs a continuation to the one with the hero waking up in the hospital with the villain after they fought in a burning building? by no need do u have to ive just been thinking abt it a great deal and very much loved it

Thank you so much for the ask blue fren! I loved that series so so much, and I’m glad to continue it. I hope you like this! I got another request for this one, too.

Thank you too, anon! 🥺🥺🥺

Continued from here. All fluff, this time!

CW//Hospital setting, pill mention, therapy mention

“So, how has your day been?”

The question caught Villain off guard. Of course, it had been spoken in the same tone, the same cadence as the rest of Hero’s ramblings. But, they’d gotten so used to the melodic droning of their words, they’d almost forgotten that this was supposed to be a two-sided conversation.

For a long moment, Villain simply sat. Blinking, as though startled by the sudden flash of a bright light. The visitation room fell into silence, all aside from the ticking of a brightly-painted coo-coo clock upon one wall. It would not be long before it struck its next hour mark.

“My day?” They stammered out.

“Yeah, your day!” Hero replied warmly. Villain couldn’t remember the last time they’d seen the do-gooder without a bright smile on their face. It never did seem to drop. “Come on, I’ve been babbling on about mine for ages. How have you been?”

They should have known how to answer that. Of course they should’ve. After all, it was the same question that Hero had been asking, as though by rote, every day since Villain had been brought into custody. Into recovery.

Yet, still, every time, it startled them. Hero, their foe, their nemesis, their greatest enemy. Hero was asking them how their day was. Beforehand, they would’ve scoffed. Given some witty one-liner, something about how it was good until Hero had shown their ugly mug. But, now, they felt no ounce of hostility.

“It was good.” They eventually spoke.

It hadn’t been a lie, of course. The carpeted hallways, wood-paneled walls, and kindly doctors of the Supervillain Memorial Villainous Recovery Center had treated them well, just as they always did.

Too had the visiting room, with its soft-colored table and comfy chairs, not to mention the wide windows that allowed the slightest warm breeze to catch the room aflutter.

“Good.” Hero repeated with a confirming nod. “Did you sleep well?”

“Mhm.”

“Food good?”

“Yeah.”

“What was for lunch today?”

“Spaghetti and meatballs.”

“Mmm, one of my favorites. The chefs here are great.”

“Yeah.”

For the first time in what felt like ages, Villain watched Hero frown. It wasn’t an expression of disappointment, nor or frustration. Just a sad, little frown.

“Do you know how long you’ve been here at the Recovery Center for, now?”

Villain tried to think on that. The days tended to get all mixed up in their head. They didn’t have time to come up with their own answer, as Hero supplied it for them:

“It’s been two weeks, now, since you were brought in. That’s a long time.”

“Two weeks?” Had it really been that long?

“Yeah. Two weeks.” Hero’s tone was quieter, now. Softer. More parental than friendly. “Just over two weeks ago, I was chasing you through a burning building. We both almost got killed in there. Now, look at you!

You look so much better. You’re clean, you’ve got fresh clothes on, and you aren’t so much of a skeleton anymore. You look great, but you still seem so sad all the time. Is something wrong?”

Villain... Villain didn’t know.

They didn’t think they were sad all the time. Far from it, in fact. The first of their two weeks at the RC, the Recovery Center, had been spent in medical isolation, spending their days reading books, taking pills, and sleeping away the ache in their lungs. It was at the end of that first week that they’d been given a physical, and been cleared to enter the general population at the center.

Even then, though, like always, Villain had been given a choice. The doctors at the facility never forced them into anything they didn’t want. They were given the option of staying isolated, or, they could join the rest of the recovering villains.

They had decided upon the latter, albeit hesitantly. To be quite honest, they had expected a prison. Expected to be picked on, beaten, thrown around. But, the RC was nothing like that. If anything, it felt more like a hotel. They had their own room, there was a cafeteria serving three meals a day, along with snacks. Some of their old villainous buddies had been shy, at first, but they’d opened up quickly, and cracked some old inside jokes.

Yes, Villain was happy. They were eating well, recovering. Their therapist said that they were doing fantastically, that their mental health was on the up-and-up. Their days were spent comfortably, eating, chatting with friends, and catching up on some nighttime reading before settling into bed.

They were happy.

Yet, they couldn’t help but stare at Hero blankly, as though they were staring right through the do-gooder’s skull.

“No.” They shook their head, at long last. “Everything’s fine. I love it here.”

Hero’s frown deepened as their eyebrows furrowed.

“Is it me, then? I won’t take offense if it is. I understand completely.”

Villain didn’t know the answer to that one, either. Did they dislike Hero? Certainly not. They had made a point of visiting, every single day. And, every day, they would tell their stories, make jokes, ask Villain about how their day had been, how they were finding the place.

So, why was it that they could only stare on like this?

No. They knew the answer to that one. It was the guilt.

Hero had risked their life. Chased them all the way into a burning building, suffered just as much smoke inhalation as their foe. All because Villain had been distrustful. All because they’d been stupid and stubborn. They’d nearly gotten two people killed, all because of that.

And, still, Hero came to visit.

“I never said sorry.” Villain spoke softly. They knew that, if they spoke any louder, their voice would break out into shattered sobs.

“Sorry?” Hero sounded perplexed, before letting out a nervous little laugh. “Sorry for what?”

“For-” Didn’t they know? “For leading you into a burning building? For almost getting you killed?”

Hero quirked a brow. “Oh. I almost forgot about that.”

“You... You forgot?”

“Not forgot, no. I remember it. I just haven’t thought about it in a while.”

“But, but- But you almost died! I was running, and you chased me into the fire! You could’ve been killed!”

Hero shrugged.

“It happens.”

“It... It happens?”

The hero stopped for a moment, before speaking, slowly:

“Have you been nervous around me this whole time because you thought I was... Upset with you?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well...” They still seemed utterly perplexed. “I’m not. At all.”

“You’re not? But-”

“I would chase you into that burning building a thousand times over if it meant saving your life.” Hero countered. “I could’ve been killed. But, if I hadn’t intervened, you would’ve been killed. It was worth the risk. And, look! It turned out. We’re both here. And we’re both fine.”

Villain’s eyes widened as the fact dawned on them.

“So, you aren’t mad at me?”

“Not even a little.” Hero sat up in their chair-- they did tend to slouch. “But, I think visiting hours are just about over. What do you have, after this?”

“Group therapy.”

“Sounds fun.” It was spoken with a genuine, lighthearted chuckle. “Here. Share these around.”

Hero shoved a hand in their pocket, taking out a handful of brightly-colored, cherry hard candies. They were pushed across the table.

Villain frowned once more, taking the candies in their palm. Every day, Hero visited, and every day, they brought sweets. Cookies and candies and brownies and fudge. And, every day, they threw them away. They didn’t deserve sweets, not after what they’d done.

“Don’t throw these away this time.” Hero spoke jokingly.

Villain’s gaze shot up.

“You- You know about that?”

“I caught on after the doctors started complaining about perfectly good cookies in the trash. I get it, though. I do.” Hero stood, stretching their arms above their head, causing their shoulders to crack and pop. “But you don’t have to do that, anymore.

You aren’t guilty of anything, Villain. The only judge convicting you is yourself.”

As Hero left the room, Villain looked down at the cherry candies in their hand. Usually, now would be the part where they tossed them, but...

Instead, they popped one in their mouth.

It tasted like forgiveness.

[peculiarpatches]

𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙮 𝙌𝙪𝙞𝙣𝙣 𝙭 𝙁!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧: 𝙅𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙮

       This is my first time writing  a Dom&Sub GXG so please be nice to me. This involves smut. Dominate Harley, submissive reader. Slapping, spanking, dirty talk, oral, fingering. I just watched Birds of Prey and thought of this halfway through, so, lmao. I hope yall like it. And remember, feedback is appreciated so please give a ‘like’ and or reblog. It’d mean the world to me. Also, if you have any suggestions, just message me and I might write them! :) lots of love. xx

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

Harley was trying, damn it. Give her some credit, cut her some slack.  Try as she may, the anger and jealousy only continued to bubble up, no matter how hard she tried to swallow it down, it kept rising in the back of her throat, eager to come out and explode everywhere. That and it might be a bit of bile, too.... as gross as that may be, more than likely, yeah, it was a mixture of both. 

Harley had been drinking a lot of liquor as if the clear substance poured in the small glass shots were water rather than vodka. 

 Harley bit on her bottom lip so hard she could taste blood on the tip of her tongue. So, she continues. 

 Continues to drink until she feels every other emotion besides the bitterness feeling she was getting as she watched her best friend, (Y/N) on the dance floor.  (Y/N) and Harley were like two peas in a pod, inseparable those gals were. You'd never see Harley without (Y/N) by her side, the same way with (Y/N). They were attached  to each other like glue. 

Expect of course, right now, they were not. Harley sat, sulking, at one of the back booths of the club, eight empty glasses pushed aside, her hands holding up her face as she pouts and huffs to nobody other than herself.   

"I came here to have fun with her, not her to have fun without me," Harley whined, the pout on her face only growing bigger. Groaning, she facepalms  and shook her head from side to side, feeling frustrated tears starting to build in the corner of her eyes but she blinks them away before they could reveal themselves.  

 Her head snaps forward, so fast she swears she gets whiplash, when she hears (Y/N)'s laughter fill the air. Her laugh always caused goose bumps to bite at her skin and a chill to run up and down her back. Harley shivered as if she were cold but that was far from reality.

 In reality, Harley suddenly felt hot.  It felt as if she was on fire. 

Then she realizes, there's no use in trying to stop these feelings or try to push them away. They were bound to come out sooner or later.  (Y/N) was hers. Nobody else's.  End of story. The two have hooked up before, all of which the two were either really drunk and or had one too many pot brownies, but they have gotten together before.  

And as of right now, Harley was going to show (Y/N) just how better off she is with Harley by her side rather than some six feet muscular guy that (Y/N) was currently grinding up against. Harley growls as she stands up, trying her best not to fall as she exits out of the booth and pushes people out of the way before finding (Y/N).  "C'mon. We're leaving. Now." Harley barked, painted fingernails curling around (Y/N)'s wrist. "Well, hey there, good lookin', might I ask what you're doing, stealing away this beaut from me? If you're jealous, don't fret, love. There's more of me to go around. Sharing is caring, ain't that right, babydoll?" Harley's blood boils at the pet name he gives to (Y/N) and before she realizes it, her fist comes in contact with his face and her leg rises up as she kicks him in the groin.  "I said we're leaving." She spits.    

Taking (Y/N)'s hand, Harley drags her through the whispering crowd, half of the people laughing at how a man that tall and muscular so easily dropped to the floor with one swift movement, both from the hand and leg; others taking their phones out and snapping pictures of the scene.  Harley didn't care if people gave her glares as she walked past. Harley could care less.  She drags (Y/N) towards the back exit door, kicking it down as she then marches down to her apartment complex which wasn't even a foot away from the club. She's practically dragging (Y/N) behind her like a rag doll but she didn't care. All she cared about was showing (Y/N) who she belonged to. Once the door was open, Harley twirls around and bends forward, picking the girl up before walking inside  the small space that she called 'home'. It wasn't much but she loved it, regardless. Harley drops (Y/N) on the couch before crawling up and over her body, pinning her arms above her head.  During this whole 'meltdown' (if that's what you want to call it) (Y/N) remained quiet. As quiet as a church mouse. She didn't dare utter a single word, didn't dare say anything. She was either too drunk or too scared to speak.  "Babygirl," Harley's voice isn't soft and sweet, but sinister and cold. (Y/N)'s breath hitches and she shudders as Harley holds her face with the palm of her hand before backing her with it, earning a small gasp to spill out from (Y/N)'s lips.  

"You are in trouble, do you understand? You and your slutty fuckin' self. Who do you think you are, grinding against another man as if you want a cock when you already have a plastic one at home? Besides, is my tongue and fingers not cutting it out for you anymore, sweetheart?" Harley's  words were laced with malice and held as much venom as an Inland Taipan. 

"Don't you know who you belong to? You're mine. Always was, always will be. It's about time you realize that." Her voice is loud, booming, really, it causes (Y/N)'s ears to ring from how loud her best friend was being but all of it - the anger, the bottled up jealousy and affection exploding out of her - sent a shiver down her spine. It was also making her soaked, dripping with wetness. 

 "F-Fuck..." it's the first thing she's said all day and a bit of Harley is thankful the girl still knows how to speak, that she didn't totally scare her off with showing her dominate side.  "I'm really sorry, Harl-" "No." Harley cuts her off, pressing her fingertips to (Y/N)'s lips, smearing lipstick all over her fingers as she does so.  "You know what to call me." Harley stood up, crawling off of her best friend as she points to the couch. "Lay on your stomach, ass hanging in the air. You're getting a spanking." (Y/N) feels  warm and tingly all over and she's sure it's a combination of both being so turned on and drunk.  Either way, like a good girl, she follows orders. "Mistress..." Her voice is weak, barely above a whisper.  "I really am sorry." Her voice shook, as well as her body; every part of her was trembling and shaking. It wasn't out of fear, fuck no - she shook with nothing but excitement.    Harley shakes her head, rolling her eyes as she watches how horny - how desperate - (Y/N) was.  "Look at you, sprawled all out, legs separated, all for me to taste and to enjoy." Harley runs her hand over (Y/N)'s skirt, lifting the fabric up and touches the outside of her panties, loving the way the lace feels underneath the tips of her fingers. She was always a sucker for lace.  

Harley pulls her panties down, slowly peeling it off of her thighs and down to her ankles. Licking her lips, Harley smiles a seductive grin, her own wetness pooling inbetween her thighs.  (Y/N) was beautiful, without a doubt. 

More and more, each second of each passing day, Harley found herself falling more and more in love with the girl.  She loved everything about the girl. She could list off everything, tell all of it to (Y/N) but that'd take way too long and she felt as if time was running out and all Harley - really - wanted to do was taste (Y/N) on her tongue, in her mouth.  

Harley guides her fingers across (Y/N)'s ass, ghostly brushing along the skin before picking her hand up and slamming it down, earning a loud whimper and yelp to come from (Y/N)'s lips. "Fuck.... more, please, mistress, give me more. I've been so bad, such a naughty little thing, I deserve it. Please."    Harley grinned wickedly, giggling softly as she raises her hand again and lifts it back down. One slap followed another which followed another.  (Y/N) was begging for it and Harley fucking loved every single second of it.   "I know you deserve it because you're a slut, aren't you, princess? You're a filthy, dirty whore." Harley slams her hand onto (Y/N)'s ass again, rougher than the previous ones. 

 (Y/N) whimpers and pushes back up against Harley's hand, nodding eagerly. "Y-yes.... need to be punished. Please, punish me."  (Y/N) sobs, broken little cries falling from her mouth.  "That's just what you want, isn't it, baby?" Harley cooed, taking her hand off of (Y/N)'s bottom before reaching down and gazing her thumb over (Y/N)'s cute little clit.  

 "You want to be punished, don't you? Because you like it, right? Love it when I fuck you with a fake, plastic cock. Love the feeling of my fingers being buried deep inside your cunt. You love all of it - punishment or no punishment - because you're a fucking slut."  (Y/N)'s whines are - somehow - even louder than before and she's nodding rapidly, Harley giggles at the sight because her movements remind her of a bobblehead.  "Please," (Y/N) begged.  "Please, fuck me. Give it to me, nice and rough, just the way I like it. Show me who I belong to, Harley.... mistress, I meant... Mistress, please... I want it. I need it. I want your fingers, your tongue, anything, please." Harley knows by the sound of her voice, (Y/N) has tears in her eyes and she's willing to be fucked just by anything at this point.  "Filthy thing, you are." Harley murmurs, licking her lips before sinking to the floor. "Turn over, baby. Let's see how soaked you are."  Doing as she's told, (Y/N) rolls over and sits up, back against the cushions of the couch as she displays her pussy for Harley.  "Want Mistress to fuck you, huh? Fuck your tight little core until you're sore in the morning and can't walk without a limp? Want me to mark you up so everybody knows you're mine?"  All (Y/N) does is nod, far too flustered for words. "Say it. I want to hear you say it." Harley growled as her fingers shove their way inside (Y/N)'s eager and dripping wet cunt.  Moaning, (Y/N) nods as she throws her head back. "Mark me, Har. Make me your bitch. Fuck me like you hate me, please."   Harley smiles widely as she adds another finger, happily going to do exactly that.     "You're so tight, baby girl.... fucking dripping on my fingers." Harley cooed as she scissors her fingers back and forth, pushing and pulling, twisting and turning.  Before (Y/N) has any time to reply, or even say anything at all,  Harley's mouth is at her heat and (Y/N) groans at the sudden and unexpected gesture.  Harley hums, sending vibrations all over (Y/N)'s body. This causes her hips to jerk upward, moan after moan slipping out of her mouth. 

Harley swirls her tongue back and forth, inside and out, making sure her pussy wasn't going to go untouched. Every part of her womanhood,  she licked and sucked on.  Harley gazed up and a blush washes over her cheeks as she notices (Y/N) had already been looking down at her. 

 She was sparkling, loving the triumph at the mess she was making out of her dear and lovely best friend.  (Y/N) could feel that white and hot tension building in the pit of her stomach. Her entire body was broken out with goose bumps and she was shaking, trembling like a leaf. 

Her moans grew louder in volume, more high pitched, her nails dug into the cushion of the couch and as she closes her eyes, she's quick to reopen them due to the fact Harley had stopped what she was doing.  "Hey, I was enjoying myself-" "This is a punishment, remember, doll? Now, be a good girl and eat my pussy out. You were born to be my good pussy eater, weren't you? So, get to work. Get to pleasing me; your Mistress."  (Y/N) grunts, loving the foul language she spoke as she gets off the couch and falls to her knees, quick to put her mouth to good use.  Above her, Harley hummed in delight, slowly rocking her hips back and forth against (Y/N)'s warm and wet mouth. "There ya go... there's my good girl." Harley purred, lids fluttering close as she enjoys the way (Y/N)'s tongue feels against her clit.  

 Harley hadn't known how worked up she was until a few seconds pass and just as quickly as they started, she's spilling all her fluids and juices onto (Y/N)'s face, coating her skin with her cum.  "Fuck... 'm sorry about that, princess...... You just had me so worked up. Really, I've been thinkin about you all day. And I saw you with that guy and I just.... I got a little jealous, y'know?"  "No reason to be," (Y/N) replied, licking off the remains of Harley's orgasm off of her lips. "I was just havin' some fun. Besides, like you said, I'm yours. Always will be, always have been. Now, enough of this mushy chick flick moment, are you going to pound me and wreck me or not?"  Harley laughs and nods, taking (Y/N) up off of her feet and kisses her, not minding the taste of herself on her best friend - well, girlfriend's - lips.   "Let's go then, shall we?"  (Y/N) giggles loudly as Harley, as she had done before, lifts her up and carries her off to the bedroom.   "We're together now though, right?" "Yes, of course, dumbass."  "Just needed that confirmed."  "Of course, baby, I love you. I’m sorry I had such a hard time admitting that until today... Now, open that mouth up and let me choke you with this fake cock before I dick you down with it."

[wheelsup]

the taming of the shrew | two

if i be waspish, best beware my sting

after some setbacks, penelope is willing to do anything to get you back on board. but has spencer already ruined things?

A/N: hello! im so sorry that this posting schedule is super inconsistent. the more i thought about this chapter, the less i liked the more technical aspects of it. but! i hope you enjoy to plot aspect of it nonetheless <3 thanks for reading!

category: fluff, slow burn series, spencer reid x fem!reader

wc: 4.4k

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Since that phone call with Penelope, she’d been over nearly every night for a week with plates of treats and onslaughts of apologies. Each time she came knocking, you told her there was no amount of persuasion that could change your mind. And yet the following night, she’d be there, a new type of pastry in hand and a new set of reasons why Spencer was worth the trouble.

First, she brought blueberry muffins and reasoned that deep below that prickly exterior, he really was everything she promised –– sweet and caring. But that must be deep, deep down. Like, The Lost City of Atlantis, deep down, because you didn’t expect it to surface any time soon. 

Then, she brought fudge brownies and explained that his behavior wasn’t personal –– he was getting snippy with everyone lately. And while you maintained that anybody would have a hard time getting along with Spencer, you were absolutely positive that it was now impossible for you. 

Quite frankly, it wasn’t just Spencer who was unwilling to play nice. You hated him. More than you’ve ever hated a stranger. 

You wished him a lifetime riddled with minor inconveniences that would drive him to the edge of insanity. You wanted him to miss all his trains by just a quarter of a minute; close enough so that he could see it leave the platform, knowing he almost made it on. You wanted him to constantly feel like he was about to sneeze. You wanted his socks to be perpetually wet, and if he should happen to put on a dry pair? You hoped he stepped in a puddle.

That was all you could think about as you laid out on your couch, munching on one of Penelope’s lemon bars while she paced around your apartment. She kept going on and on advertising Spencer to you. As annoying as it was, she was also saving you a ton on groceries that week. 

For the most part, you filtered her out. Not a single word that came out of her mouth was believable anymore, especially not when she was talking about Spencer. Despite what Penelope thought of him, you saw in him what she refused to accept. 

As her speech came to a close, she looked at you like she expected a response to dignify her prattling. 

“Give it a rest, Penelope. He’s a lost cause,” you laughed dryly. “He doesn’t need –– nor does he want –– anyone in his life.” At the very least, he definitely didn’t want you. 

“Yes, that’s the problem!” If you’d been listening to her, you would’ve heard her saying the same thing. “He doesn’t want to date!” 

Your head just about exploded when she said that. 

There had been countless, fruitless conversations about this, and all along she saw the gaping hole in her supposedly airtight plan?

“If he doesn’t want to DATE, then WHAT was the point of this?!” Your fingers pressed the bridge of your nose; you suddenly felt a headache coming on. Funny how it always happened around the time of day that Penelope came to visit.

Penelope stopped pacing. She stalked over to your couch, picked your legs up by your ankle, and moved them to make space for herself. You begrudgingly sat upright as she took her place beside you. 

“Because he’s not himself anymore. He’s not open like he used to be. Not to the people who care about him the most, and certainly not to the world.”  

Penelope toyed with the hem of her dress, distracting herself from her quivering lip before pressing on, “Spencer Reid has always wanted love. And it’s not right that he no longer believes he can have it.” 

You hadn’t seen Penelope look so desperate until now. It was concerning. Because what could make her look so hopeless? What could make Spencer so hopeless? 

“Penelope, I don’t know what’s wrong with your little friend, but… there’s a lot more bubbling inside him than you’re letting on.” 

She chewed up the insides of her cheeks, wincing to herself at your incredibly accurate claim. 

“You are hiding something, aren’t you?” You narrowed your eyes on her. You were no detective, or whatever exactly her team did, but she was just awful at concealing her thoughts.

“It’s not my story to tell,” she murmured. 

She could already feel herself about to give it away and doubled down her mental defenses against it. Focusing extra hard on keeping Spencer’s privacy intact. If only you knew her track record with secrets, you’d be proud of her for staying quiet this long.

“What isn’t your story?” 

“That his girlfriend died last year.” 

She spilled it before she even realized what she was saying. You’d just asked so nonchalantly that she forgot she was talking aloud. Penelope turned purple, terrified now that the whole truth was out there. 

You couldn’t even take satisfaction in the fact that your trick worked. You were just as mortified as Penelope, and if you weren’t already sitting down, you knew you’d need to. You assumed there was something deeper going on with him, you didn’t think it was a dead girlfriend. That was some Nicholas Sparks shit. 

“He pretends like he’s fine but I know he’s not. And if he found a way to move on, maybe he’d start feeling as okay as he claims to be,” she sniffled before snot could run from her nose, tears lining the rims of her eyes. “I know I should’ve given you the full picture, but I didn’t think you’d go for it if you knew…” 

You were too floored to process it all right away. This added a whole new layer of complicated to an already uneasy arrangement.

“Well, I know you’re right about one thing. I would’ve said no.” 

She gave you a set of pleading eyes, praying you’d see where she was coming from. 

“I know,” she whispered defeatedly. “But maybe... now that you know, you can understand why he acts out the way he does.”

“Penelope, I can’t just… make someone move on, or –– or get them to believe in love! Especially when it’s fake.”

How on Earth did she expect you to pull that off? Did that guy from A Walk to Remember move on when Mandy Moore died? You hadn’t seen the ending of the movie, but you assumed not. 

“I’m sorry, this is just… a lot bigger than the favor I thought it was ––”

“What if I could return it?” she cut in. The gears in her head started to turn, figuring ways to patch up the holes she made. 

“There’s nothing I need from you.” 

That couldn’t be true. Penelope looked around the room and it didn’t take her long to think of it.

“I can help you sell your art,” she tempted, gesturing to the scattered canvases. “You make all your income from this, right?” 

You didn’t want to give any fuel to her fire, but you nodded. “What if… what if you didn’t have to settle for local buyers? What if I told you that you could make way more money selling them to the whole world?”

You chortled at her idea. 

You were a local artist, through and through. Your art got put in local galleries and sold to local buyers. Nothing more, and that was fine with you. You realized it a long time ago that it was just a pipe dream to think you’d be more. 

“I’m serious! You could get a separate painting studio, and stop living in one? Huh?” She wrapped her hand around your shoulder, waving the other in the air, urging you to picture it with her. “Imagine this: a kitchen that’s separate from your living room. A bed, inside it’s own four walls, and more than twelve feet from where you cook your meals.”

Pushing aside her so blatantly insulting your apartment, if that were a possibility, you’d want nothing more. But it already sounded foolish and you hadn’t even heard how she planned to pull it off. 

“Penelope, I’m fine where I am. I make the money I need, and that’s... it’s fine.”

She gave you a pointed look. “You know, I can hack all search engine results to make sure you are what comes up first anytime someone enters the word ‘painting’, right?

An airy chuckle left your lips. Of course she could. You patted her thigh twice and stood up, prompting her to follow you to your door –– hopefully, so she can show herself to the other side of it. “Still no, Pen.” 

“Just take some time to think about it!” Her voice carried through the wood as you shut it on her.

*

There was this one bench in Kenilworth Park – the one that overlooks the crystal clear pond – that you’d always been able to rely on to fix any problem.

There was hidden magic in the bushes that sprawled out from the edges of the water, surrounded by spiky green blades of overgrown grass. A simplicity you loved in baby ducklings paddling into the tiny body of water, swimming close together so they don’t get lost in, what seems to them, a whole ocean. And clarity provided by the freshest air in the world, under the shade of the big oak trees on a late summer afternoon.

But at the present, none of that came close to being enough.

The artist’s block started off as a minor inconvenience, but without your permission, had stretched into weeks of steadily declining motivation. Each new idea felt even worse than the last, and you were acutely aware that there would come a point where you’d officially hit maximum capacity for how awful they could get.

Still, that didn’t seem to light a fire under you. You happily coexisted with the blank pages of your sketchbook. Staring down at them, laying open on your lap in their stark-white glory, you felt like you were playing a waiting game. If you stared long and hard enough, maybe they’d flinch. 

Unfortunately, you never got to find out who won, because your phone rang inside your pocket. As if the caller had interrupted an incredible genius at work (which couldn’t be farther from the truth), you hastily raised the phone to your ear, slamming your sketchbook shut.

“Hello?” Your voice wasn’t as kind as it could be for someone with nothing better to be doing. Two seconds later, you learned who was calling and came to regret it.

“Hi, This is Rebecca from District Arts, calling with a message from Andre ––”

“Oh, hi!” you tried to walk back your previous tone, straightening up in your seat and pitching your voice higher, “Yeah, I’ve been waiting to hear from him!” 

While Rebecca intimidated you, Andre happened to be your closest friend at the gallery. He worked closely with the artists to curate their collection and help them make sales. 

“Does he want to sort out what to set the opening bid prices at for my new pieces?” A handful of days ago, you sent him pictures of your new work and were waiting to hear his thoughts. You’d always been able to trust his opinion, and a vote of confidence from him might be just the thing to inspire you.

“Uhm…” There was a criminally long pause on the other side of the line, ended by Rebecca’s weary inhale. “Unfortunately, we’re calling to inform you that your pieces will not be included in the next rotation.”

For a minute, you weren’t sure what to make of what she said. You’d never heard those words before.

“What – what do you mean?” you laughed nervously. She probably misspoke. Perks of friendship aside, Andre always included you in sets. 

“Ugh, let me just get him…” her voice faded away as she put the phone down. 

That wasn’t exactly the reassuring statement you were looking for. In the time it took for the call to switch hands, your confusion finally melted in. And then quickly boiled into anger.

The District Arts gallery changed their entire collection every two months. The pieces shown accepted rolling bids throughout the full eight weeks, finally selling at the end of term to their highest offer. After that, the pieces got taken down, sent to happy new owners, and the entire gallery reset with entirely new works. 

So if you missed one rotation, that meant waiting two months to get back in.

“Andre, how am I just cut from the gallery!” you barked before he could get a word in. If he didn’t like your work, he could’ve just said so. 

“No one said that ––”

“Okay, let me rephrase.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, something you found yourself doing quite frequently lately, and took a deep breath in and out. It was seemingly just for show because it did absolutely nothing to calm you down. “Why wouldn’t you put me in the next set? I’m in all of them!”

“I know you are!” He sounded just as upset. “It’s just that… we give you the biggest space we have, because you always manage to fill it up. But this time… I’m not so sure you can.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you scoffed. “What makes you say that?” You asked that, but you knew.

“You’ve only finished three pieces… I’m worried how you’ll deliver seven more before we set up.”

“But… it’s four weeks away, I could do ––”

“And it took you four weeks to make what you have... I’m sorry. We couldn’t take that gamble.” 

He took your silence as an opportunity to turn off the work talk and speak, just friend to friend. 

“You know that I trust you and I’d hold that spot if I could. But, I also know what you’re going through right now, and… I don’t know, maybe letting yourself rest would be a good thing?” 

Your heart paused. By, “knowing what you’re going through”, you assumed he didn’t mean the little artist’s block.

“If you’re implying that I can’t do my job because of what happened with Cyrus –”

“I’m not, I’m not....” he backtracked as quickly as he could. “But take another look at the paintings you showed me and tell me if they feel like you.”

Even if he was right, you wanted to fight him. You wanted to cry. You wanted to beg that you didn’t need that big space; you were willing to downsize and just turn in the three that you had. Even if they got shoved into the corner where hardly anybody bothered to look. You just couldn’t afford to go two months without the income. 

But even with tears beading up, you realized that the gallery couldn’t afford it either. They needed to bring in money and you couldn’t do that for them this time. So they were right to go to someone who can.

“Right,” you sniffled, recollecting yourself so he can’t hear the shakiness in your voice. “I understand. It’s a big risk, like you said… It’s for the better.”

Andre tried to thank you for being understanding and spewed some sort of encouragement. The words flew over your head. You managed to toss in a few ‘mhmm’s and ‘sure’s at the right places to coast you along until the call finally ended. 

As soon as it went dead, you dropped your phone to the side and brought your hands to your face, rubbing them furiously over your cheeks. Your fingertips pressed hard into your eyelids, trying to forcibly reabsorb the tears threatening to spill. 

It almost worked, until you tried to breathe. 

A full sob escaped in that one gulp of air and you succumbed to it. But the loud crunching noise of some pedestrian walking over the falling leaves destroyed your sense of privacy, and you quickly wiped away all signs of your breakdown. The crunching stopped just short of your bench and on instinct you flicked your eyes up to see who the intruder was.

You did a double take. It was him. That fucking asshole.

He was standing there, looking dumber than you could even remember, with his hands in his coat pockets and a curious look on his face as he watched you cry. Tucking your sketchbook under your arm in haste, you made it a point to stand up with as much aggression as possible, rolling your eyes at him.

“Don’t worry, I’m leaving,” you barked. “No need to yell at me this time.”

You bristled past him, barely refraining yourself from checking his shoulder as payback. You wanted to believe you were better than him, but it did sound incredibly tempting. He stood there for a moment before turning on his heel and following you.

“Wait,” he groaned.

You didn’t listen, neither stopping nor slowing down.

“I said wait,” he huffed as he caught up to you, popping up at your side and jogging along as you kept going.

“Yeah, because I need to listen to a guy who yells at strangers in bookstores.” 

Now that you’d brought up the elephant in the room, your feet started moving even faster, working double time to get you away from him.

Damn the fact that he had those long legs. He didn’t even break a sweat trying to keep up. He was inescapable.

“Well, if you waited like I asked, you would’ve gotten an apology for the ––”

“Gee, thanks!” you yelled, stopping for only a second to turn to him and give him a mocking bow of your head, hands clasped together like you were praising at his altar. “I was waiting with bated breath for that! Thank you, kind sir, for now my life can go on.”

“Look, I’m actually sorry,” he snapped. Then in realizing the irony, softened his voice, “I’m sorry for being rude. I was having a bad day… not that that’s an excuse.”

You stared at him blankly, just watching his mouth moving quickly and waiting until it finally stopped. 

“Did you need something?” 

“Did you… did you not hear what I just said?!” 

“No, sorry,” you smiled, voice sweet like sugar. “My ears filter bullshit. Wanna try again?”

He scoffed, looking away like he couldn’t believe you before stepping even closer. “What’s your problem?”

“Me!? The fuck –– what the fuck is your problem?” You turned and stormed off again, seething at his audacity. Spencer just couldn’t relent his annoying tendencies and followed yet again.

“My problem is that I’m trying to be nice, and you’re not letting me!”

You got a good, hard laugh out of that. “Okay, first of all, having to apologize for yelling at me and pushing me isn’t exactly the best starting point for the journey of becoming a nice person.”

“Like I said, I was having a bad day.” 

Under your breath, you muttered, “Well, I hope this one’s even worse.”

“Why are you such a ––” He stopped himself from finishing that thought. Even in his worst mood, he wouldn’t cross that line. 

But he didn’t need to finish it, you knew exactly where he wanted to take it. The soles of your shoes scraped against the loose gravel as you came to a grinding halt, ears ringing.

“A what?” You turned to face him, a sarcastic smile on your face growing wider as he started to shrink more and more. You got up close in his face, daring him to say what he really wanted to. So he could reinforce your belief in exactly the type of person he was. “A what?” 

Spencer pursed his lips and shook his head, refusing to say it no matter how much you challenged him. If he wasn’t going to have the balls to say it, you decided to take it upon yourself.

“Tell you what, you keep thinking about it and get back to me the next time you’re in a cunty mood.” 

The word he was thinking of was probably not as bad, but you had a habit of escalating things. Even if you took this one too far, you didn’t care. 

Before you tried to take off again, Spencer’s hand flew to your elbow. He tugged you back, forcing you to turn around and face him. He didn’t know his own strength; without any resistance, you came stumbling into his chest, at risk of falling over if it weren’t for his tight grip on your arm.

It took you a beat to push him away with both your hands on his chest, vocalizing your disgust for being so close to him. 

“Can you stop trying to disagree with me for a second? I’m trying to tell you that you’re right, I was being a… well, you know…” He avoided the word. Apparently ‘cunt’ was where he drew the line. “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve it.” 

Your nostrils were still flared and blood hot as ever, but he made you pause. He looked sincere, if not a little tinged with guilt as well. You were suspicious of it.

“You saw me crying and felt bad, didn’t you?”

He laughed darkly. “Well, I saw you, yes. Did I feel bad? No.” 

“Oh, my God,” you growled, berating yourself for getting close to believing he might be capable of decency. 

“I’m joking! I’m joking.” He squeezed your elbow twice in earnest. “I did feel bad, but that’s not why I wanted to say it.”

“Okay.” You weren’t ready to give him a real smile, so you flattened your lips into a thin line and nodded once slowly, and left it at that. 

You still weren’t a fan, but the apology did dampen some of the resentment. Maybe he wasn’t the worst person alive. You’d settle for saying top ten most annoying, instead.

Minutes later, you came to the startling realization that he was still on the path, just two paces behind you. You flinched when you saw him out of the corner of your eye, not expecting him to still be here. 

“Uhm. Where are you… why are you still following me?” 

“I’m not. My car’s that way,” he gestured to the parking lot at the end of the long walkway. “I forgot my loaf for the ducks.” He didn’t mean to offer that information up, it just slipped out. He could practically see your smug expression coming before it even got there.

“You’re not supposed to feed bread to the ducks. It’s bad for them.”

“I don’t.” He didn’t care to explain this to you, but he couldn’t have you thinking he was any less competent than he really was. “It’s a special bread made from water and seeds that were ground into flour. It’s duck-safe.” 

“They make duck-safe bread?” Now that was something you’d never heard before. 

“No… I make duck-safe bread,” he said softly under his breath. 

You didn’t know how else you were supposed to react to that besides laughing wildly. 

“You make it?” He nodded like you were the crazy one here. As if he wasn’t the one spending his spare time grinding up seeds and baking loaves of bread for ducks, donning a frilly pink apron and oven mitts as he did so. At least that’s how you imagined it. “Why not just feed them the seeds?”

“Because, loose seeds will sink in the water and can potentially clog waterbeds and cause foreign bacteria growth in the pond.” 

“So you… hand-make the seeds into a little loaf of bread so it doesn't do that?”

He confirmed. You pondered silently for a moment, then absolutely had to ask, “You ever eaten the duck bread before?”

Spencer was caught off guard by that question. His cheeks deepened to a rosy color.

“Yeah, well, it was the house so…” he laughed nervously and stared at his sneakers. “It’s actually not too bad.”

You weren’t entirely surprised by that. You remembered what his grocery basket looked like, and given those same options, you probably would’ve tried the duck bread too. Still, you cracked the smallest of grins at knowing he makes bread for ducks. The one, sole redeeming fact you’ve learned about Spencer. 

You reached your car first, and Spencer stopped in front of it with you. 

“I’m actually sorry, you know,” he whispered once more, hand resting at the top of your car door as you opened it. He wasn’t talking about the incident at the bookstore.

“Yeah…” For a while you were so busy being angry at Spencer that you forgot about your own problems. 

He noticed your nose was still red around the edges, eyes still a little bleary. “Are you okay, by the way?” His voice was too soft, too genuine.

You shook your head no.

“Is there anything I can do?” You shook your head again. And then you had an awful thought.

You knew he was just offering to help just to say it, because that’s how people react when you say you’re not okay even if they don’t care. But there actually was something he could do for you… Something that Penelope could do.

“Uh, no but…” you fixed your hair and tucked it behind your ear, seamlessly switching to a flirtier voice. “If you still feel bad about the other day, you’re welcome to make it up to me.”

Spencer cocked his head to the side, unsure of how he could do that. 

“Hang out with me sometime.”

“H-hang out?” You could tell that it flustered him, even if he tried to play it off. He swallowed thickly, nose twitching and brows scrunched together.

“Relax, I really do just mean hang out.” You were lying through your teeth. He didn’t need to know that. 

As if he didn’t want to think about it for a second longer and just get out of this conversation as quickly as possible, he agreed without thinking it through. He didn’t even ask why an almost complete stranger would want to hang out with him. 

You stuck your hand out, expecting him to hand over his cell so you could put your contact into it. He rocked on the balls of his feet, watching as you input your contact and sent yourself a text on his phone.

“Hi, this is…” you read out your message as you typed, pausing at just the right place. “What’s your name by the way?”

“Oh-uh, I’m Spencer.” 

A devilish grin took over your face, hidden from his view while you were looking down at the screen. He was going to be easy to fool.

-

-

agh! im still not in love with how this chapter is turning out, but it came to a point where i just had to stop fiddling with it and just post it. any feedback or comments about this story is very much appreciated 💕

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[1004tyun-archive]

my love 🥺🥺 i don’t know if you’ve already fallen asleep or not but as usual i want this to reach you when you wake up 🥺🥺🩷💎

today started out on a needlessly stressful note but i’m glad i overcame it fhsbfbdb and even more so i’m so glad you’re always by my side so i can have an easier time 🥺🥺🩷

later on i’ll have to grocery shop >_< it’s so hot outside tho… thankfully my dress is short 👉👈 hehehe 🤭 i’m so glad you like my dress 🥺🥺 and considering i’ll be the one choosing what to get for the week that means i can get ice cream that reminds me of you hopefully 🥹🥹 i hope they have some cookies and cream ice cream!! 🥺😭🩷🩷 i’ve been wanting some…

i keep thinking about you mommy… anyone tuning in… please look away for a second…

i caught myself smiling while using the bathroom just cause you were on your mind

i’m fine i swear 😭😭😭

i just love you mommy and you make me so happy 🥺🥺😭🩷🩷 i wanna look up cute recipes on pinterest to see if i can make some and think of you (i can’t cook)

also an artist i like released a new song that’s really nice and at first i wanted to relate it to you… but thing is the name of the song is pretty devil and to me you’re not a devil 🥺 not that a sexy devil woman wouldn’t be hot 😳 but mommy crystal is more like a goddess to me >\\\< 🩷🩷

i love you mommy 🥺🥺 i hope that if you’re sleeping that you’re doing so well, and if you aren’t i hope you’re happy right now because i need that 🥺🥺😚🩷 my love i’m sending you many kisses and hugs for you 🥺😚🩷

good morning my baby~ 🥺🥺🩵🩵 you're so sweet waking up to your messages makes my day, like no matter what i have to get done seeing an ask from you makes me feel like i can take on anything 🥺<3 <3

things had a rocky start for you and honestly i was so worried but i'm glad everything turned out okay 🥺 i love being by your side always~ so happy i can help my baby have an easier time 🥺🩵

hehe thank goodness for your short, pretty dress~ 🤭🤭 (totally wasn't thinking about doing what you said you wanted me to do yesterday~ the fact that it's shorter for.. easier access) aww baby 🥺🥺 i wanna go to the store later on today so i can find some ice cream that reminds me of you~ (i still have my eyes on that tiramisu ice cream,,) and get those chocolate covered oreos too so i can pretend we had them together!

cherry,,,.. hhh oh my godhsghjsg i feel so... warm right now

suddenly the tyuntwinz good morning letter exchange has been changed to tv-ma 😳😳

you keep saying you can't cook but you can make so much stuff!! idk if i'm convinced <_< you're so housewifey baby 🥺🩵 there was this recipe for something called slutty brownies that i saw on pinterest that reminded me of you bc of all the chocolate (it was a brownie recipe with oreos in the middle and a chocolate chip cookie crust!!) they seem like a sugar overload but i wanna feed some to you~ 🥺🥺

ooh sounds like a sexy song~ 😳😳 hehehehjshgj you're the one who's like a goddess to me, my love i wanna worship you like you deserve~ 🥺🥺😳😳🩵🩵

i love you so much baby i think about you all the time and it's so fun finding new things i can point at and be like "omg,, that reminds me of cherry 🥺🥺🩵🩵" a recent one is coffee, sometimes i go into my kitchen and think "omg..... cherry drinks coffee 🥺🥺🥺🥺"

you're the best my cherry bear 🥺🥺 sending you kisses and cuddles mwah mwah~ 🥺🩵🩵🩵

[anneimaginesundertale]

Hello I have a fall themed ask but I hope it's ok that it's not from your list😅

How about some cute fun baking with stretch like baking warm cinnamon buns or somethin like it can either end with a war of flour or it actually comes out nice

Where ever you wish to take this idea lol :3

Hey! It’s totally fine to send things that aren’t on the list. The list is a jumping off point, meant to inspire. I love this idea! Let’s do it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the weather grew cooler and the leaves began to turn, you were overwhelmed with an Urge. An Urge to make your house smell warm and cozy. An Urge…to bake! Naturally you invited Stretch over to help you out.

“You sure you want me here?” he asked as you pulled out ingredients and utensils from various cabinets. “I’m not that great at baking. I’m just good at eating what other people bake. You really need my help?”

“Yeah,” you said with a grin. You gestured at the mixing bowls on the highest shelf. “I need a tall person.”

Stretch shook his head. “I see,” he said, reaching up and getting the bowl down for you. “I see what I’m worth to you. You’re just using me for my height.” He set the bowl on the counter.

You wrapped your arms around his waist. “I’m also using you for your sweet tooth,” you said. “There’s no way I’m keeping everything we’re making here. I’d eat waaaaaay too much. You’re going home with at least half of all this.”

“I guess I can get on board with that.” He grinned and gave you a hug back. “What exactly am I getting half of?”

You let go of him to grab your recipes. “These!” you said, showing him what you’d printed out. “Cinnamon rolls, salted caramel cookies, and hot chocolate brownies.”

Stretch raised a browbone. “All of ‘em?”

“Yes!”

“You’re sure we gotta do all three.”

“Yes, Stretch! I told you—I neeeeed to baaaaaaake!!! It’s a fall thing!”

Stretch laughed and shook his head. “Okay, okay,” he said. “We’ll do all three. But which one do we start with?”

“You pick.”

“Which one’s gonna take the most time?”

You looked at the recipes. “Well, the cinnamon rolls need to rise, so probably those.”

“So let’s start on the cinnamon rolls and then we can do other stuff while we wait for them to rise.”

You beamed at him. “How’d you get so smart?”

“I went to college at some point,” Stretch said. “I think. And when I’m stuck on a story, I watch a lot of cooking shows.” He winked at you. “C’mon. Let’s get baking.”

The afternoon passed in a whirl of cinnamon, a small flour explosion (thanks, stand mixer!), a lot of puns, and a quick run to the store for more caramels. (Somebody kept unwrapping two, putting one in the bowl and one in their mouth…) By dinner time, you had everything baked and cooling, and a pile of dishes in the sink. Your house smelled absolutely divine! You and Stretch flopped together on the couch.

“Thanks for helping me, Stretch,” you said, snuggling up to his side. “You’re the best.”

“Aww, thanks, kid. You’re the best too.” You felt the tingle of his magic as he pressed a skeleton kiss to your cheek.

“I love you,” you said. “And not just for your height.” You kissed his cheek in return.