#bags under his eyes deepening as he stares

[notable-phlyarologist]

i did an image search of 'larry pokemon' and am laughing my ass off imagining him finding out about all these people drawing reserved, tasteful art of him

[vunblr]

Crumbs of Connection

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ just in case. Fluff.

Summary: When Bucky wanders into a quirky late-night bakery, he doesn’t expect the warmhearted owner to challenge his defenses.

Word Count: About 11.8k.

Bucky dragged his feet along the cracked sidewalk with slumped shoulders, as the chill of the night seeped through his tattered jacket. He was almost at the building he’d moved into a few days ago, but each step felt heavier than the last. The mission that was supposed to be a walk in the park had left him with a pounding headache, a sour mood, and a stomach that wouldn’t stop growling.

That’s when he noticed.

The little bakery on the corner was still open, its warm light spilling onto the dark street. He frowned. What kind of place stayed open this late? Before he could question it further, the smell of fresh bread, herbs and butter hit his senses. His feet carried him inside before his brain caught up.

The bell above the door chimed softly, and he stepped into the warmth. His eyes scanned the counter, landing on a tray of focaccia behind the glass display. Golden, perfectly crisped, dotted with rosemary and sea salt. His stomach twisted with hunger as he stared, almost entranced.

“Um,” a voice broke through his daze, soft but tinged with caution, “if you wait a little, I can fix something for you.”

Bucky blinked and turned toward the counter. The woman standing there wasn’t what he expected at this ungodly hour. She looked alert, not a trace of exhaustion in her bright eyes or the easy way she held herself. Before he could respond, she disappeared through a door behind the counter.

He frowned, rubbing the bridge of his nose as the light above the counter made his headache throb harder. A few moments later, she returned, holding a small paper bag.

“Here,” she said, offering it with a small smile. “It must be hard in this cold.”

Bucky stared at her, the bag, then back at her.

“What?” he rasped, his voice rougher than he intended.

“Don’t be proud now,” she said, firm but not unkind. “Just take it.”

His mouth twitched, halfway to a sarcastic retort, but he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror behind a basket of bread. Mud-streaked face, greasy and plastered hair. His beard was a week past needing a trim, and his split lip and tattered clothes didn’t help either.

He swallowed hard, suddenly unsure whether to laugh or groan. She thought he was homeless. His mouth opened and closed, and then he muttered, “I’m not a beggar.”

Her expression didn’t change. She just stared at him for a beat, then muttered, “Okay?” like she wasn’t entirely convinced.

Bucky squinted at her, then sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’ve had a bad night,” he said finally, the admission tasting bitter in his mouth.

She quirked a brow, with obvious skepticism.

“Can I just get a focaccia?” he asked, reaching into his pocket for his wallet. He kept his movements slow, hiding his bruised knuckles from her as much as possible. He grimaced as he came up with a crumpled bill and a few coins. He counted them twice, deepening his frown. He must have lost his wallet somewhere during the mission, or maybe it was back at the apartment. Either way, what he had wasn’t enough.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath. He glanced at her, unsure of how to explain, but she was already watching him.

Her expression didn’t falter. If anything, her gaze softened, though he noticed the faintest flicker of wariness still in her eyes. “It’s fine,” she said after a moment, with a gentle voice. “Just take it.”

Bucky stiffened. “No, I-”

“You’ll pay me back when you get some money,” she interrupted firmly, waving a hand like it was no big deal. “It’s late, cold, and you’re hungry. It’s not going to hurt me to let one focaccia go.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but the look she gave him shut him up faster than he liked to admit. There was no pity there, just unwavering practicality like she’d already decided and wasn’t about to budge.

“I don’t need charity,” he muttered, the words falling flat even to his own ears.

“Good thing this isn’t charity then,” she shot back, arching a brow. “It’s credit. You can pay it back tomorrow, or the day after, whenever.”

Bucky’s lips pressed into a tight line, his pride warring with the hunger clawing in his stomach. Finally, he exhaled through his nose and reached for the bag.

“Fine,” he said, with a clipped voice. “But I will pay you back.”

“Sure. Okay.” she replied, handing it over with an ease that only frustrated him more.

He didn’t thank her. Not out loud, at least. He just nodded stiffly and made his way to the door, the warm paper bag cradled in his hands like it was the first good thing to happen to him all day.

As the door closed behind him, she sighed softly, shaking her head. The man looked like life had chewed him up and spit him out. Maybe he’d just fallen through the cracks recently, it was always hardest in the beginning, learning to ask for help. She glanced at the counter, absently smoothing her hands over her apron.

If she saw him again, maybe she could mention her friend at the community center. They were always looking to help people find stable footing before things got worse. And for someone like him, someone who clearly still had some pride, maybe it wasn’t too late to get him back on his feet.

The sound of the bell snapped her out of her thoughts.

Two cops strolled in, familiar faces, and she greeted them with a small smile. “The usual?” she asked, already moving to grab a pair of pastries from the display.

As she handled their order with practiced ease, her thoughts kept drifting back to the handsome stranger with the haunted eyes.

------

Bucky shoved open the door to his apartment. The space was dark, empty, and cold, but he barely noticed. He kicked off his boots, shrugging out of his jacket and letting it fall somewhere on the floor. His pants followed, the trail of his discarded clothing leading to the kitchen sink.

He turned on the tap, scrubbing his hands under the warm water and letting out a tired sigh as the grime and blood washed away.

Finally, he opened the bag and pulled out the focaccia, its edges still faintly warm. He bit into it without ceremony, his teeth tearing through the crisp crust and sinking into the soft, herby center.

The groan that escaped him was involuntary.

“Jesus,” he muttered, leaning against the counter. He wasn’t sure if the bread was actually this good or if it was just because he was starving, but it didn’t matter. He tore off another bite, then another, letting the flavors fill the hollow ache in his stomach.

His mind drifted back to the clerk. She had been… unexpected, in a way. Not just because she was there at that hour, but how she’d looked at him, unafraid, and then her gesture, offering him the bread without hesitation, it threw him off. He wasn’t used to kindness without strings attached.

Bucky frowned at the thought, swallowing another bite. He knew he’d acted like an ass, stiff and gruff, but he hadn’t known what else to do. His gaze drifted to the paper bag on the counter, now empty except for a few crumbs. Tomorrow, he’d pay her back. He’d make sure of it.

And maybe while he was there, he could look around properly. He’d been too tired to take it all in, but in the brief glance he’d caught, he’d seen shelves lined with pastries, bread, and other things that looked more tempting than they had any right to be.

It wasn’t just about the food, though. It would be a way to repay her. To even the scales.

Dragging a hand through his hair, Bucky sighed and pushed away from the counter. As he collapsed onto the messy nest of sheets in his living room, his last thought was of the clerk: her calm voice and the smile she’d given him as she handed over the bag.

---

The next morning, Bucky stood under the hot shower spray, letting the water beat against his sore muscles. He scrubbed the grime of the previous day away, trying to clear his head. Afterward, he brewed a cup of coffee, jolting his brain into something resembling alertness.

Setting the empty mug in the sink, he began hunting for his wallet. He turned over the few possessions he had in his apartment, muttering curses under his breath, but it was nowhere to be found.

“Great,” he muttered, running a hand through his damp hair.

Reluctantly, he went to the stash of cash he kept hidden under a loose floorboard. Pulling out a few bills, he tucked them into his pocket and took a quick look in the mirror. His split lip was still healing, but his beard was trimmed now, and the dark circles under his eyes were a little less pronounced. Also, his clothes didn’t look like they were dragged against a concrete road. Good enough.

The walk to the bakery was brisk, the chill of the morning sharp but not unpleasant. He felt more like himself than he had the night before, ready to repay the debt and maybe even buy something else.

But as he approached the corner, his steps faltered.

The bakery was closed.

He frowned, sweeping his gaze  over the dark windows and drawn curtains. The sign on the door mocked him with its clear Closed lettering.

What kind of bakery was closed at 10 a.m.?

His mind immediately jumped to worst-case scenarios. Maybe something had happened. Maybe the clerk stayed too late and ran into trouble on her way home. His jaw tightened as he peeked through the curtains, searching for any sign of movement inside.

But then his eyes landed on the sign taped to the door:

Open: 4 p.m. - 12 a.m.

Bucky blinked.

“What the fuck?” he muttered, straightening.

What kind of bakery worked on a schedule like that? Who baked bread for the night shift? He rubbed his jaw, baffled, and glanced at the darkened windows again.

With a shake of his head, he turned back the way he came, the mystery of the night-shift bakery simmering in his thoughts.

---

The day passed in the kind of monotony Bucky had learned to tolerate. Cleaning his gear, half-watching a soccer game, biting back the urge to snap at Dr. Raynor during their session, and ignoring Sam’s persistent calls. By the time evening rolled around, he was restless enough to head out again.

Around 9 p.m., he set off to the bakery, the mystery of its late hours still nagging at him. Who needed baked goods at this time of night? Well, besides himself. Sleep was always a gamble, if he was lucky, he’d be out by 2 a.m., though that was probably wishful thinking.

As he rounded the corner, he spotted movement by the shop. Three bikers, with leather jackets patched with gang insignias, stepped out of the door, each carrying large paper bags stuffed with… something. Bucky couldn’t make out what was inside, but they seemed satisfied, securing the bags to their saddlebags before waving toward the bakery window. His brow furrowed as he slowed his pace. The clerk waved back before she turned and disappeared behind the counter.

The bikers mounted their bikes and roared off into the night, leaving Bucky to stare after them for a moment. He quirked a brow. Well, it seemed the place had its regulars.

Pushing open the door, the soft chime of the bell announced his arrival. The warmth hit him immediately, carrying with it the now-familiar scent of herbs and fresh bread.

She was at the counter again, arranging some pastries on a tray. The sound of the bell made her look up, and her movements stilled when she saw him. It wasn’t much, just a flicker of hesitation, but he caught it. Then, like flipping a switch, she composed herself, her face smoothing into a polite smile.

“Hi,” she greeted him, he thought he caught a hint of surprise beneath it.

“Hey,” Bucky replied, almost gruffly. He stepped forward, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket.

For a brief moment, silence hung between them as their eyes met. Neither spoke, just staring at each other, the air charged with an odd sense of recognition. Then she blinked, snapping herself out of the trance, mentally slapping herself.

“Hi,” she said again, her voice a little higher this time, followed by a flustered, “What can I do for you?”

Bucky shifted slightly, pulling one hand from his pocket and holding out a few bills. “I came to pay you for the focaccia,” he said simply. “And… I wanted to buy some other things too.”

Her brows lifted, and she laughed softly, taking the money from him. “That was fast. I wasn’t going to charge you interest, you know,” she chuckled.

“Appreciate it,” he muttered, with a hint of amusement in his voice.

“So,” she said, her professional demeanor slipping back into place, “what can I get you?”

As he scanned the shelves and pointed to a few items, she efficiently began sorting them into paper bags. But he noticed her hands slowing now and then, her lips pressed together like she was working through something. Finally, she turned toward him, bag in hand, and blurted, “I’m sorry.”

Bucky frowned, tilting his head slightly. “For what?”

“For assuming…” She gestured vaguely toward him, her expression tinged with embarrassment.

He blinked, then let out a low chuckle. “Well, I looked like shit,” he said bluntly, the corner of his mouth twitching into a faint smirk. “Can’t blame you.”

Her shoulders eased at his reaction, and she gave him a small, relieved smile. “Thank you for… you know,” he added, signaling vaguely toward the counter where the focaccias where exhibited.

“Don’t mention it,” she replied and then extended a hand, “I’m Y/n, by the way.”

“Bucky,” he said, his vibranium hand staying tucked in his pocket as he shook her hand briefly with the other one.

As she returned to filling the bags, he couldn’t stop himself. He leaned slightly against the counter, his curiosity finally getting the better of him.

“So,” he said, breaking the quiet, “what’s up with the hours here? Four to twelve?”

Her head popped up, a faint look of surprise crossing her face before she laughed softly. “Oh, that.” She handed him the filled bags, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time,” he replied in a casual tone, though his gaze made clear that he actually wanted to know.

“This bakery… my grandparents opened it in the ’60s,” she began. “When my gramps passed in the early 2000s, my granny made some changes. One of them was the schedule.”

Bucky tilted his head, his curiosity sharpening. “The late hours?”

She nodded, leaning lightly against the counter. “Yeah. There’s a lot of nightlife in this neighborhood and a surprising number of residents work night or late shifts. She figured people needed somewhere to grab a decent meal at odd hours. It was risky, but eventually, it worked out.”

He let the idea sink in, flicking , his gaze briefly to the trays of baked goods. It made sense, in a way.

“When she passed the shop to me,” she continued, with a voice tinged with fondness, “I decided to keep things just the way they were. It feels right, you know? Like I’m keeping her legacy alive.”

She shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips. “Besides, I don’t get sleepy at night, anyway. I’ve always been more of a night owl. I end up sleeping all morning, so the schedule works for me.”

Bucky studied her for a moment, taking in the mix of pride and nostalgia in her expression. She seemed connected to the place in a way that made the odd schedule seem less strange and more… fitting.

“That’s… different,” he said finally, his voice softer than usual.

“Different good or different bad?” she asked, quirking a brow as she crossed her arms.

He smirked, shaking his head. “Just different.”

But he couldn’t leave it there. The question burned in his mind, and he found himself asking, “Don’t you think it’s dangerous being open this late? Alone?”

She tilted her head, not missing a beat. “I’m not alone. Liam, the main baker, is in the kitchen.”

Bucky gave her a pointed look, one brow lifting in a way that clearly said, Seriously?

“And if someone armed gets in here, he’d chase them off with a spatula?”

She laughed softly, but there was a flicker of something thoughtful in her eyes. “We’ve had our share of… episodes,” she admitted, “but it’s been a long time since the last one.” She gestured toward a small table near the counter with a nod of her head. “The cops come by all the time to grab something or even sit and eat.”

“That’s not exactly foolproof,” Bucky muttered, unconvinced.

Her lips curved into a wry smile, and she leaned in a little, lowering her voice like she was sharing a secret. “Let’s just say having the local bikers as regulars doesn’t hurt either.”

He blinked, frowning. “The guys I saw earlier? So they… behave?”

“They’re good guys,” she retorted, then paused and corrected herself with a grin. “They’re nice guys. Most of the time.”

Bucky raised a skeptical brow, and she continued, “Sometimes they even help out. Like last week, when the mixer broke. They swung by after their ride and got it working again. One of them’s pretty handy with tools.”

Bucky’s frown deepened, though this time it wasn’t out of suspicion. He wasn’t sure whether to find the whole setup amusing or… concerning.

“Guess that’s one way to stay safe,” he muttered, glancing around the shop like it might reveal more secrets.

“It works,” she said shrugging. “Besides, most people aren’t looking for trouble when they’re hungry.”

He let out a quiet huff of laughter, shaking his head. Then he picked up the bags and nodded at her, and she offered him a small smile, “Come again.”

He paused at the door, glancing back at her. “I will.”

With that, he was gone, the door chime softly announcing his exit. She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, leaning against the counter for a moment. Her gaze lingered on the door, her mind replaying the way his broad frame looked in those casual clothes. Effortless, like he didn’t have to try at all to look that good.

The thought was interrupted by the sound of the door chime again. She straightened quickly, spotting two guys in uniforms marked with the local electricity company’s logo.

“Hey,” one of them called, grinning. “Got any donuts left?”

---

Time passed, and Bucky started showing up regularly, his visits becoming a constant in her evenings. Three days a week, like clockwork, the bell would chime, and there he’d be, gloved hands tucked into his jacket pockets and that quiet, brooding air about him.

What surprised her most wasn’t the frequency of his visits but how much he bought each time. He’d point out loaves, pastries, and cookies, practically cleaning out half the display case on some nights. At first, she thought it was just politeness, a way to make up for that first night. But as the weeks went on, it became clear that this was just his thing.

One evening, as she packed his usual haul into bags, curiosity finally got the better of her and she glanced up at him with a smile. “Wow, your family must really enjoy our goods,” she said playfully.

The comment made him pause. His smile faltered, just for a second, and his eyes flicked away like he was retreating inward.

She noticed the shift immediately and quickly tried to smooth things over. “Oh,” she said with a laugh, waving a hand, “great appetite then. I won’t complain about that.”

His gaze returned to her, and the corner of his mouth twitched into a faint smile. “Something like that,” he murmured.

She handed him the bags, softening her smile. Whatever that moment had been, she wasn’t going to push. “Well, you’re keeping me in business, so thank you.”

He nodded, a quiet “thanks” leaving his lips before he turned to leave.

---

As Bucky walked the short distance back to his apartment, the bags swinging lightly in his grip, his mind churned with thoughts he couldn’t quite shake. Her comment replayed in his head: Your family must really enjoy our goods.

Family.

His jaw clenched slightly. He didn’t have one, not anymore. The people he cared about… well, they were scattered or gone, and the thought of sitting at a table surrounded by warmth and laughter felt more like a faded memory than a reality.

He adjusted his grip on the bags, slowing his steps as he reached his building. It wasn’t her fault, of course. She hadn’t meant anything by it, just an innocent assumption. And she’d recovered quickly, giving him an out he appreciated more than he could express.

Still, the weight of the moment stuck with him. The way her words had scratched at something raw and unhealed, something he thought he’d buried deep enough that it couldn’t sting anymore.

In the quiet of his apartment, he set the bags on the counter and shrugged off his jacket. He pulled out one of the pastries she’d packed for him, a warm smell of cinnamon and sugar wafting up as he took a bite. The sweetness melted on his tongue, giving him a fleeting comfort.

She was kind. That much was clear. Her warmth wasn’t forced or rehearsed; it was just… there. Bucky leaned against the counter, staring at the pastry in his hand like it might hold some answers. He hadn’t meant to make her uncomfortable, but his reaction had been automatic, a wall thrown up before he could even think about it.

He couldn’t deny that he liked going to the bakery, liked seeing her. He finished the pastry and sighed, glancing at the bags of baked goods. He’d go back, of course. It was becoming part of his routine, and he found himself looking forward to the short conversations, the moments of normalcy she unknowingly offered him.

He just needed to keep things simple. Keep the walls up.

----

Keep things simple, Bucky had told himself more times than he could count, the mantra almost automatic by now. But as he stood at the counter that Wednesday night, watching her nervously wring her hands, he felt a crack in his resolve.

“Can I ask you a question?” she began, a little hesitant. “It’s alright if you don’t want to answer, but…”

He tensed. His gloved hand rested on the counter, fingers curling slightly. “Go ahead.”

“This weekend, I went to the Smithsonian with a friend…”

And there it was. This is it.

“Yeah, it’s me,” he interrupted, with a sharper tone than he intended. He wanted to rip the band-aid off, and get it over with. He braced himself for the shift, the awkward laugh, the strained smile, the clipped words. The gradual squirming in his presence like he carried a weight they couldn’t bear to be near.

But instead, she grinned.

“Well, that explains your appearance the day I met you,” she said lightly, a teasing lilt in her voice. “And your appetite.” She winked.

Bucky blinked. That wasn’t the reaction he’d prepared for.

Before he could respond, she continued. “It’s not my place to say, but… you’ve had it hard, Bucky. I saw the look on your face when I brought this up, so let me be clear: this changes nothing.” She leaned forward slightly, meeting his eyes. “I know it could be hard sometimes, with the people… but not in here.”

Bucky stared at her, the usual quick retorts or excuses dying on his tongue. He didn’t know what to say. The sincerity in her voice and the calmness in the way she addressed the subject without making him feel exposed, caught him off guard.

“Thanks,” he finally said, exhaling a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

She nodded, curving her lips into a small smile, but instead of leaving it at that, she hesitated. “That being said…” Her voice softened. “According to the commemorative plate, your birthday was last week.”

Bucky’s brows furrowed. He hadn’t even remembered.

“So,” she said, bending down behind the counter, “here.” When she straightened up, she held a small plum tart, dusted with powdered sugar. “I couldn’t put all the candles on it for obvious reasons.” She chuckled softly as she gave him the little tray.

Bucky froze. The gesture hit him square in the chest, a pang so sharp and unexpected it made his breath hitch. He stared at the tart, feeling an ache rise in his throat. His lips trembled traitorously as he fought back the overwhelming surge of emotion.

She noticed his hesitation and tilted her head slightly. “It’s just a tart,” she said gently as if trying to assure him it was no big deal.

But to him, it was.

He reached out, taking the tart from her as if it were made of glass. His gloved fingers brushed the edge of the plate and he swallowed hard. His voice, barely above a whisper, cracked as he said, “Thank you.”

Bucky didn’t trust himself to look at her. He stared down at the pastry, his grip tightening around the edges of the plate as he worked to steady his breathing. It had been so long since anyone had done something this thoughtful for him, that he didn’t know how to react.

Watching his reaction, she faltered. Her earlier confidence dimmed as doubt crept into her expression. She fidgeted with her apron, glancing away briefly before blurting out, “I, um… sorry for bothering you. If I overstepped-”

“No.” The word came out sharper than he meant, and she froze. He took a breath, forcing his voice to steady. “You didn’t,” he said again, gentler this time. “You just surprised me here, doll, that’s all.”

Her gaze softened, searching his face, and he didn’t look away this time. His walls weren’t fully down -when were they ever?- but the rawness in his eyes couldn’t be hidden, the unshed tears glimmering with the lights.

Her lips parted, then closed again, like she wanted to say something but wasn’t sure if it was her place. She shifted her weight, her fingers lightly tapping the counter. “It’s not much,” she said after a beat, her tone quiet but sincere. “Just a little thing I thought might make you smile.”

“It’s more than you know,” Bucky murmured then he cleared his throat and adjusted the bags in his hand, needing something to focus on besides the growing ache in his chest. “I, uh… I appreciate it,” he said, a little awkwardly.

Her smile grew, and she reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Good,” she said simply. “You deserve something nice.”

That threw him off even more. He stared at her, stunned by the ease with which she said it, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

His throat tightened, and he looked away, unable to meet her gaze any longer. “Thanks,” he muttered, his voice gravelly as he turned toward the door.

“Bucky?”

He stopped, glancing back over his shoulder.

“I just remembered that I didn’t tell you, Happy birthday,”

He nodded once, gripping the bags a little tighter as he pushed the door open and stepped into the cool night air, which did little to clear the fog in his head.

You deserve something nice. He almost scoffed aloud. Nice? Someone like him? Someone who couldn’t go a single day without being haunted by the weight of his past?

The world had a funny way of reminding him where he stood. Steve was gone. The man who believed in him more than anyone else had handed over the shield, and with it, Bucky felt like the last tether to the person he used to be had been severed. Now, it was just him. And no matter how hard he tried to fix things, make amends, or find a shred of normalcy, the past always had its claws in him.

But tonight, she had looked at him and seen something other than the broken pieces. She hadn’t flinched when she figured out who he was. She hadn’t spat accusations or looked at him with the fear or pity he was used to. Instead, she smiled and handed him a damn tart for his birthday, a day he hadn’t even remembered until she brought it up.

Maybe… He shook his head as he walked, his boots crunching hard against the pavement. Don’t get attached.

Still, he glanced down at the tart again, its delicate powdered sugar glinting under the streetlights and a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, almost involuntarily.

----

One rainy night, Bucky was already imagining the taste of a prune cupcake when he reached the bakery and found the door closed.

His brows furrowed as he noted the light spilling from the kitchen and the neatly arranged merchandise still on display. That was odd. He stepped closer, intending to knock on the glass, but hesitated. If she had closed up, there must’ve been a reason. Why would she open just for him?

He turned to leave, but the sound of a long, creative string of curses froze him mid-step. His frown deepened. Maybe she was arguing with Liam or a boyfriend, or... why was he still standing there?

Then came a sharp scream of pain.

Before his mind could process, his body moved on its own. He pushed the wooden door open with a single fluid motion of his vibranium hand and rushed toward the kitchen, ready to confront whoever was causing her harm.

He wasn’t prepared for the sight that greeted him.

She was alone. Entirely alone.

Barefoot, her jeans rolled at the cuffs, and wearing nothing but a lacy black bra on top. She was gripping one foot and hopping in place, her other hand clutching the edge of the counter for balance. Her face was scrunched in pain, a bead of sweat trickling down her temple.

She froze as he appeared in the doorway, locking her wide eyes onto his.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

“Bucky?!” she finally exclaimed, her voice was a mix of mortification and disbelief. “What the hell are you doing?!”

“I heard you scream,” he said, still on high alert. “I thought- I mean, I thought someone was-”

Well, someone isn’t!” she snapped, waving her arms for emphasis before wincing and clutching her foot again. “What are you… how did you even…”

“The door wasn’t locked,” he said simply, lifting his vibranium hand as if that explained everything.

She stared at him. “You broke my door, didn’t you?”

“Technically, I opened it.”

Her shoulders slumped as she let out a groan.

“What happened?” he asked, softening his tone as he noted the red welt forming on her foot.

She gestured toward a hulking machine in the corner, a sour expression on her face. “The kneading machine broke,” she grumbled. “It’s Liam’s day off, so I have to knead all the dough by hand. I got frustrated and kicked the stupid thing.” She pointed to the offending piece of equipment as though it were an enemy in battle.

Bucky’s lips twitched, but he quickly schooled his expression. “And it fought back?”

Her glare could’ve melted steel, but then her expression shifted, and she seemed to remember her current state of undress. Quickly, she crossed her arms over her chest, though the movement only served to push her curves together.

Bucky’s jaw tightened as he fought to keep his gaze locked firmly on her face. He swallowed hard, feeling the distinct burn of self-restraint in every muscle.

“Can you throw me that shirt?” she asked, jerking her chin toward a crumpled white button-up draped over a stool.

“Sure,” he muttered, grabbing it and tossing it her way.

“Turn around?” she added pointedly, feeling her cheeks going warm.

He obeyed instantly, facing the wall and rubbing the back of his neck. “Why, uh… why were you like that anyway?” he asked, his voice low and awkward.

“It’s hot,” she replied, a little grumpy. “The kitchen’s like an oven with all the equipment running, and kneading all that dough by hand isn’t exactly cooling me off. Plus, I was alone. Or so I thought.”

“Right,” Bucky murmured, feeling a little ridiculous for barging in like that. He’d been ready to throw down with some imaginary attacker, and instead, he’d walked in on… well, on a very memorable scene.

The mental image of her, half naked and glistening, burned behind his eyelids, and he clenched his fists at his sides. He didn’t need his mind going there, not now, not ever.

The sound of her shifting behind him broke his thoughts. “Okay, decent,” she said.

He turned back around, carefully keeping his expression neutral. She was now buttoning up the shirt, but her hair was still mussed. He cleared his throat.

“Want me to help kneading?” he blurted out, the words escaping before he could think them through.

She froze mid-button, blinking at him. “You want to… knead dough?”

“Let’s just say I can put that piece of junk to shame,” he said, nodding toward the broken machine. “Only… you have to teach me how. Then I’ll do it. It’s not a big deal.”

Her lips parted as if to protest, but she hesitated, seemingly caught off guard. After a moment, she shook her head. “That’s sweet, but I can’t ask you to do that. It’ll take a lot of time.”

“I have time,” Bucky replied evenly. He didn’t add that the alternative was staring at the ceiling of his living room, trying to fend off the ghosts in his head and praying for a few nightmare-free hours.

She looked at him, clearly debating, catching her bottom lip between her teeth in a way that momentarily distracted him.

“Plus,” he added with a faint shrug, “I won’t raise your electric bill, and I won’t get tired.”

A soft laugh escaped her before she could stop it. Finally, she exhaled and nodded. “Alright, if you’re sure. But don’t say I didn’t warn you, this is serious manual labor.”

“I’ve handled worse,” he said with a small smirk, rolling up his sleeves.

“Okay, tough guy,” she replied, her tone half-teasing as she gestured toward the counter. “Let’s see if you can handle my kitchen.”

He stepped up beside her, and as she began to explain the technique, Bucky couldn’t help but notice how the frustration in her features softened, replaced by something almost playful. It wasn’t often he felt useful outside of a mission or a fight, but in this warm, flour-dusted bakery, it felt like he could do something… normal.

Lost in thought, he didn’t notice her watching him. When he did, he realized she was waiting for a response.

“Uh…” he mumbled. It seemed she had been talking and he didn’t listen to a word.

“It’s okay if you don’t get it at first, here, give me your hand.” Before he could protest, she grabbed his hand, shoved a dough ball into his palm, and flipped it downward. Then her smaller hand slid over his, her heel pressing into the back of his hand to guide the motion.

“Like this,” she murmured, leaning just a little closer to ensure he could see. Her hand pressed forward in firm, rhythmic motions and the dough yielded under the combined force of their hands. Then she rotated the dough and repeated the motion, with deliberate pushes.

Bucky froze as the rhythmic pressure of her hand over his sent his mind somewhere it absolutely shouldn’t go. The heat in the kitchen suddenly felt suffocating, and he swallowed hard, trying to focus on the dough and not on the fact that her motions were… suggestive.

She was entirely unaware of his inner turmoil, focused on the task at hand. “See? You push like this and turn it. Then repeat.”

Her voice was calm and matter-of-fact, but Bucky’s traitorous mind kept replaying the way her body had looked earlier in that lacy bra, barefooted and glistening with sweat, and now her hand was on his, guiding movements that mirrored-

“Got it,” he blurted, pulling his hand away like the dough had burned him.

She blinked at him, surprised. “You sure?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve got it,” he said quickly, flexing his fingers. “Why don’t you, uh… go open the store or something? You can sell the ready stuff, and I’ll finish here.”

Her brow furrowed, then she smirked. “Show me you can handle it first. Then I’ll go.”

Bucky nodded stiffly and got to work, kneading the dough with an intensity that had less to do with the task and more with willing his body and thoughts to calm down. He focused on each push, each turn, determined not to let his mind wander again.

After a moment, she hummed in approval. “Not bad. Alright, you’ve got this.” Tossing him an apron, she added with a grin, “Kitchen’s all yours.”

As she walked out, Bucky let out a long breath and grabbed a ridiculous amount of mid-mixed dough from the machine, barely registering its weight in his hands. He tied the apron around his waist, muttering something about how he’d never live this down if Sam found out, then plunged his hands into the dough with more force than necessary. The soft, yielding texture offered little resistance, and the repetitive motion gave him something to focus on, something to redirect the tension simmering under his skin.

Meanwhile, out front, she was practically buzzing. Well, besides the door incident -she’d have to figure out how to fix that later- and the fact he’d seen her in little more than her bra, the night hadn’t gone completely off the rails. She paused, glancing toward the kitchen and biting her lip.

The idea that Bucky Barnes was in her kitchen, sleeves rolled up, forearms flexing as he worked dough like it was his mortal enemy, was surreal. Even in her wildest fantasies -and she’d had plenty- she’d never imagined this scenario.

She distracted herself by greeting a couple of late-night customers, all while sneaking glances toward the kitchen door. But the thought of having him there with flour dusting his strong hands, focused and serious, made her heart flip every time she let her mind wander free.

Back in the kitchen, Bucky gritted his teeth, determined to keep his focus on the task. He flattened the dough with swift, decisive movements, his vibranium arm doing the flips as his flesh one did the work. But even as he forced himself to concentrate, he couldn’t shake the memory of her soft hand on his, guiding him with firm pressure.

Fuck.

---

When he finally finished kneading the massive ball of dough, he stood there, staring at the smooth mound, realizing he had no idea what to do next. With a resigned sigh, he called out for her. “It’s ready,” he said, motioning to the dough. “Now what?”

“That’s for common bread. We let it rise for about half an hour, then shape it, let it rise again, and bake it.”

“Oh,” he said flatly. “So... you just wait?”

She nodded. “Yep.”

“Great,” he replied, crossing his arms. “Guess I’ll hang around. Liam’s not here, so you’d be stuck doing all this yourself. That can’t be easy, it’s a lot of dough.”

She tilted her head, clearly debating. “I’m used to it when it’s necessary.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you kicking me out?”

Her eyes widened slightly. “N-no!”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he teased, a slight smirk tugging at his lips.

She rolled her eyes, exhaling through her nose. “Want a coffee while we wait?”

He nodded. “Sure.”

They moved to the front of the shop, mugs in hand, settling into a more relaxed atmosphere. The conversation was light, drifting from coffee preferences to the quirks of late-night customers. The rain drummed against the windows, adding a cozy backdrop to the talk.

Then the bell above the door chimed, and two bikers strolled in.

Bucky’s eyes immediately snapped to them, stiffening his posture as he took them in. They were soaked, leather jackets gleaming under the fluorescent light. What caught him off guard wasn’t their appearance, it was their manners. The pair paused at the entrance, brushing their wet boots on the doormat before entering the shop.

“Evening, Y/n,” one of them said casually, nodding in her direction as they made their way to the counter.

Bucky stared, measuring them with a sharp gaze, his body language was calm but alert. He didn’t miss how their eyes briefly flicked to him, assessing, before focusing on her.

“Hey, Daniel, Jack,” she greeted them with an easy familiarity. “Usual?”

“Yeah, and maybe throw in one of those custard tarts,” one of them added, grinning.

As she moved behind the counter to prepare their order, Bucky leaned back slightly, still watching them. He wasn’t sure what he expected from the so-called “local bikers,” but brushing their boots off before entering wasn’t on the list.

One of them glanced his way again, tipping his chin in acknowledgment. “Friend of yours?”

She glanced over her shoulder and smiled. “Helper for the night.”

Bucky just gave a faint nod. He wasn’t entirely sure why their casual familiarity rubbed him the wrong way, but something about how they interacted with her -relaxed, like they belonged- made him tense.

“So, Cookie,” the taller of the two bikers said, his deep voice carrying an easy familiarity. He had a Viking-style haircut, the sides of his head shaved while the top was long and braided, matching the beard he wore. “We swung by earlier, but you were closed. Anything amiss?”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed slightly at the nickname. Cookie?

“Oh, just old Edna broke, again,” she replied with a sigh, gesturing toward the kitchen. “I was trying to figure out what to do.”

The biker’s face broke into a knowing grin. “Y’should’ve called me. You know I’d have ‘er running again in a snap.”

She gave him a sheepish look. “It’s awful outside Jack, and Bucky here helped me out a lot. I was going to call you tomorrow, maybe take the day off.”

The biker’s gaze shifted to Bucky with a curious expression, if not slightly probing. “Did he, now?”

Bucky didn’t flinch, didn’t blink, just stared back at him.

She stepped in quickly, a cheerful note in her voice. “Well, here you go, guys,” she said, setting their bags of pastries and the requested custard tart on the counter.

But before she could finish ringing them up, Daniel added something to the order, sending her back to grab another treat.

With her out of earshot, the viking-wannabe fixed his gaze on Bucky again. “There somethin’ on ma face?” he asked, casual but a little edgy.

Bucky shrugged, relaxed, but his steel-blue eyes locked onto the man without wavering. “Nope.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, the tension in the air could be cut with a knife.

Bucky tilted his head slightly, “You know, Cookie, I was thinking of stopping by tomorrow to fix the kneader myself.” His gaze never left the biker’s. “Don’t think your customers must stray from their duties.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get a word out, the biker let out a low chuckle, his smile more challenging than amused.

“Well, it won’t be a bother,” he drawled, leaning an elbow on the counter. “Since I always take care of Edna.”

Bucky’s lips quirked up in a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m sure you do.”

Somehow, she felt left out of the conversation. The way they stared each other down, the sharpness in their tones, it didn’t seem like they were talking about Edna anymore. It was like…

“C’mon, Jack,” the second biker interjected, breaking the thick silence, though his tone carried a subtle edge of warning. “The guys are waitin’. Cookie here will tell ya if she needs anythin’, won’t ya?”

She nodded quickly, eager to shift the mood, and handed over their order. “Yeah, of course. Thanks for always helping out.” Her smile was warm but a little strained as she accepted their payment.

Jack lingered for a bit, gaze still locked on Bucky’s. The other biker sighed and patted him on the arm. “At least help with somethin’, huh?” he added, shoving a large paper bag into his chest.

The man finally broke eye contact, muttering something under his breath as he grabbed the bag and turned toward the door. But before he turned to leave, he glanced back over his shoulder, his lips twitching into a smirk. “Don’t forget, Cookie, you know who to call if you need real help.”

Bucky’s jaw ticked, the faintest sign of irritation flashing in his eyes. He leaned back against the counter, one hand casually resting on the edge, but the tension in his shoulders gave him away. “Sure thing,” he drawled, “If it comes to that, I’ll make sure she doesn’t have to wait.”

The implication in his words wasn’t lost on Jack, whose smirk faltered for just a second before he turned and strode out, the other biker following with an exasperated shake of his head.

As the door swung shut, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Well,” she said, attempting to sound lighthearted, “that was… something.”

Bucky’s gaze softened as he turned back to her, though the tension in his posture remained. “They always this ‘friendly’?”

She laughed awkwardly, brushing her hands on her apron. “Oh, they are, actually. They just get a little protective sometimes, you know? Like I’m their sister or something. Maybe they were just surprised to see you back here.”

He tilted his head, twitching his lips in what might’ve been a smile, but his eyes didn’t match the expression. “A sister, huh?”

She nodded, oblivious to the undercurrent in his tone, and started busying herself by tidying up the counter. To her, it was just Jack and his usual overbearing charm. But to Bucky, it was something else entirely.

Even as he tried to relax, his mind kept replaying the interaction. The way that guy had stood too close, his words heavy with meaning, the subtle posturing was anything but brotherly. Bucky had seen it all before, in darker and rougher places than this warm, flour-dusted bakery.

Except this time, it wasn’t just about dominance or some unspoken challenge. It was about her. And for reasons he wasn’t ready to name, that thought didn’t sit well with him at all.

“So," she started, cutting through the silence and his spiraling thoughts, "you were serious when you said you could fix the machine?"

"Yeah," he replied, keeping his face carefully neutral. "It’ll be a piece of cake."

Piece of cake, he repeated in his mind, trying to suppress the small pang of regret creeping up his spine. Sure, he had a working knowledge of mechanics, he’d helped Sam fix his boat, after all. But that had been different. Boats were his element, like motorcycles or cars. A fifty-year-old kneading machine? Well, he’ll find out tomorrow.

His impulsive desire to impress her -and maybe stake some kind of invisible claim- had won out. Now, all he could do was hope the thing wasn’t an unreadable mess.

She glanced at the clock and brushed her hands together. “Alright, time to give shape to the bread. It’s risen enough.”

Without missing a beat, she led the way back into the kitchen. The warm, yeasty air mingled with her faint perfume, wrapping around him like a comforting blanket.

She grabbed a portion of the dough and began to demonstrate. “Okay, so these are the basics,” she said, her fingers moving deftly. “For buns, you just roll the dough into smooth balls. Like this.” She cupped her hands around the dough, rolling it against the counter in a quick, practiced motion until it was perfectly round. “Braids and baguettes are a little trickier. The braids are just three strands, like hair. And baguettes, well, you stretch and roll them into shape. But you can stick with the buns for now, they’re easier.”

Bucky nodded, reaching for a piece of dough. He hesitated for a moment, as the memory of her hand guiding his earlier flashed in his mind. His throat tightened, and he focused on the dough, rolling it between his hands.

“Like this?” he asked, holding up a slightly lopsided bun.

She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Almost. Use the heel of your hand a little more to smooth it out. Here.” She stepped closer, brushing her fingers lightly over his. This time, she didn’t guide him directly, but the proximity was enough to make his heart thud against his ribs.

He adjusted his grip and tried again, and she gave an approving nod. “There you go. See? You’re a natural.”

As they worked side by side, she kept talking. “Most of this will have to go on sale tomorrow, probably at half price. But having you here is a real help. If I’d had to do all this alone, I might’ve had to throw some of the dough out.”

Her words struck a chord, and a pang of happiness settled in his chest. It wasn’t much, just a small acknowledgment of his effort, but it filled a hollow part of him he didn’t even realize was there.

He stole a glance at her as she focused on a braid, her hands working the dough with practiced ease. A strand of hair had fallen loose, brushing against her cheek. She pushed it back with her wrist, leaving a faint streak of flour across her temple. It made her look effortlessly endearing, and he quickly averted his eyes, focusing back on the dough in his hands.

Unbeknownst to him, she was doing the same. She caught glimpses of him as he worked, his broad shoulders hunched slightly, his calloused flesh hand and the vibranium one surprisingly gentle as he shaped the dough. Something was captivating about how he moved, so deliberate yet careful, like he was afraid of breaking something.

“Looks like you’re getting the hang of it,” she said, glancing over at his growing pile of buns.

“Yeah, well,” he replied, rolling another piece of dough under his palms. “Not exactly rocket science.”

She chuckled, “I don’t know. You’ve got a good touch. It took me a week to get my buns to look that smooth while doing it swiftly.”

Every time their gazes met -accidentally, fleetingly- it was like a spark flared in the air between them. Then, one of them would quickly look away, snapping their attention back to the dough. It was a quiet rhythm of stolen glances and fleeting touches, building a connection that felt as tangible as the dough in their hands.

-----

The bread was neatly shaped and lined up on trays, ready to rise once more before its final trip to the oven. She covered the trays with damp cloths, brushing her hands on her apron as she glanced at the clock. “Alright, now we wait again. Should be ready for the oven in about half an hour.”

Bucky nodded, stepping back to let her take the lead. “You need me to do anything else?”

“Not right now,” she replied with a small smile. “I’ll take care of the customers while we wait. You can… I don’t know, hang out if you want?”

He huffed a soft laugh. “Sure.”

She disappeared into the front of the shop, the bell over the door jingling faintly as a pair of officers entered. Bucky leaned against the doorframe, watching her from the kitchen as she greeted them warmly.

“Evening, boys. The usual?”

“Yup. Two coffees and a box of donuts,” one of the cops said, glancing over at Bucky briefly. His partner followed the look, squinting slightly before his eyes widened.

“Sergeant Barnes,” the officer said, his voice respectful but tinged with curiosity.

Bucky stiffened slightly at being at being recognized, but he nodded. “Good evening.”

The officer hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “Uh, sorry if this is out of line, but… would it be okay if I got a picture with you?”

Bucky shifted uncomfortably, glancing at her for a brief second. She offered him an encouraging smile, and he finally nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

The officer grinned and handed his phone to his partner. They stood together for the picture, Bucky keeping his usual neutral expression, though the officer looked thrilled.

As the partner handed the phone back, he chuckled, glancing between Bucky and her. “Didn’t know you were friends with Cookie here. Lucky you, she’s got the best donuts in the neighborhood.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, but she laughed and rolled her eyes before he could say anything. “Alright, enough buttering me up. Your coffee’s getting cold.”

The cops thanked her again, waved at Bucky, and headed out, leaving the shop quiet once more.

He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms as he looked at her. “So… they call you Cookie too, huh?”

She chuckled, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “It’s just a nickname my grandma gave me when I was little. She used to call me her little cookie because I’d sneak cookie dough every time she baked. I guess it stuck, and eventually, the regulars picked it up, too.”

“Little cookie,” he repeated, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Does it bother you?”

“Not really,” she said, shrugging. “It’s kind of sweet, actually”

Bucky hummed in response, his smirk softening into something more thoughtful. “Fits you.”

She blinked, caught off guard by the compliment, but before she could respond, he straightened up. “Guess I’ll head out now. I’ll be back tomorrow to take a look at that machine. Ah… actually... I owe you one more thing.”

Her brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“The door,” he admitted, glancing toward it sheepishly. “Remember I kind of... broke it thinking you were in trouble?”

Her mouth opened slightly in realization, and for a fleeting moment, the two of them were transported back to that chaotic instant, him storming into the kitchen, with his eyes wild with concern, only to find her jumping in her bra, startled but unharmed.

A faint heat rose to her cheeks, and she quickly looked down, busying her hands with the edge of her apron. “Right. The door,” she said, a touch higher than usual.

“I’ll run up to my place and grab a chain and a lock,” he offered, clearly trying to sound casual, though the tips of his ears were suspiciously red. “It’s not much, but it’ll hold until you can get it fixed.”

“That’s... really thoughtful of you,” she said softly, sneaking a glance at him. “Thanks.”

He nodded once, tightening his jaw slightly as if bracing himself, before turning toward the door. “Wait here. I’ll be quick.”

-------

When he returned, he carried a chain and lock in hand, the metal clinking softly as he stepped through the door. Without a word, he moved to the broken door and began securing the temporary fix, his movements sure and steady. She stayed nearby, her arms crossed lightly over her apron, watching him work.

“Will you manage to close up on your own?” he asked, testing the chain one last time to ensure it held.

She nodded, her lips curving into a faint smile. “I’ll be fine.”

He lingered momentarily at the doorway, meeting her gaze as though debating whether to press further. Instead, he simply stepped back, giving her a small, almost shy smirk. “Alright, then.”

He turned toward the door, pausing just long enough to glance back over his shoulder. “Goodnight, Cookie.”

The nickname rolled off his tongue with ease, leaving her a little stunned as the bell over the door jingled behind him.

-----

That night, she lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling as the evening replayed itself in vivid detail. Every stolen glance, every fleeting touch, every word exchanged lingered in her mind, refusing to let her settle into sleep. She rolled over, grabbing a pillow and hugging it tightly, only to let out a muffled squeal, burying her face in the fabric.

It all felt like something out of a novel, the kind her grandmother used to read, with their slow-burn tension and moments of unexpected closeness. Him standing there in her kitchen, sleeves rolled up, kneading dough with those ridiculously strong hands. The warmth of his smirk when he called her "Cookie" before leaving.

She sighed, turning onto her back again, staring at the dim glow of the streetlight filtering through her curtains. Don’t get carried away, she reminded herself. He was… Bucky Barnes, for crying out loud. The man probably had a private life he kept well-guarded. Dating, maybe even a girlfriend waiting for him somewhere. Someone who could offer him more than just late-night baking disasters and a small-town charm bubble in the big city.

“Oh, whatever,” she mumbled, throwing an arm over her face. It was free to fantasize, right? Just a harmless indulgence in the possibilities, no matter how far-fetched.

----

Bucky lay on the couch in his apartment, replaying the events of the night on a loop in his mind. Her hand, firm yet soft, guiding his against the dough in that rhythmic motion. He could still feel her touch and her warmth seeping into his skin. He groaned softly, shifting as he became acutely aware of the pang of need stirring under his sweatpants.

“Damn it,” he muttered, running a hand over his face. Was he really that touch-starved? The answer was obvious.

But then another thought struck him, one that pulled his focus away from his frustration. Her touch hadn’t made him uncomfortable. Not in the way he’d grown used to: tensing, the inevitable flinch, or the tightening of his chest. No, being near her, having her hands on his, had done the opposite in a way he hadn’t felt in years -decades-.

His mind shifted to the kneading machine. He had all but volunteered to fix the thing, despite only a vague knowledge of how it worked. He cursed under his breath, drowning in anxiety as he realized he could very well embarrass himself tomorrow. She’d been so grateful, trusted him so easily. The last thing he wanted was to let her down.

Then there was the other thing, the background he could never escape. Even though she’d been cool about it. He was damaged goods, and he knew that, but still... a part of him wanted her to notice him.

To see him, Bucky, the guy who helped her in the kitchen, who wanted to make her smile, who was ready to spend hours fixing her stupid kneading machine just for the excuse to see her again.

Fuck. This was going to be one of those nights.

----

By the time morning gave way to the agreed-upon hour, Bucky found himself standing outside the bakery, a hand tucked into his jacket pocket as he knocked on the glass of the front door. He might -or might not- have put some effort into dressing for the occasion, trading his usual hoodie for a henley that clung just enough to hint at his physique under his jacket. Still, the dark circles under his eyes betrayed his sleepless night.

She appeared from the back, wiping her hands on a flour-dusted towel, and her face lit up as she spotted him.

“Cookie,” he greeted with a faint smirk as she unlocked the door and pulled it open.

“Sergeant,” she replied, the corner of her mouth quirking up in amusement.

The exchange felt oddly natural, like a line out of an old movie. She opened the door with a soft laugh, stepping aside to let him in. He strolled toward the back, the scent of freshly baked bread of the previous night lingering in the air as she followed.

“Let’s see the beast,” he said, nodding toward the old kneader, circling once like a predator sizing up its prey.

“All yours” she answered, crossing her arms as she leaned against the counter. “Think you can handle it?”

He shot her a mock-serious glance. “We’ll see.”

As he studied the machine, his eyes flicked to the sturdy work table beside it.

“You got a cloth or something to cover this?”

She frowned slightly, her brows knitting together in confusion. “A cloth?”

“Something that can get dirty,” he clarified.

“Uh… sure.” She rummaged through a drawer and pulled out an old, slightly worn tablecloth, tossing it to him.

“Thanks,” he said, unfolding it and laying it across the table.

Her confusion deepened as he positioned himself beside the kneader. “What are you-”

She didn’t get to finish the question before Bucky gripped the sides of the heavy machine, lifting it like it weighed no more than a loaf of bread. He turned and placed it carefully on the table, adjusting it until it sat at an angle he deemed perfect for inspection.

She blinked, stunned for a moment before her lips parted in an incredulous laugh.

It wasn’t necessary, he could’ve worked on it just fine where it sat. But something in him wanted to do it anyway, to leave her watching, even if just for a moment.

She raised a brow, crossing her arms as she leaned against the counter. There was a teasing glint in her eyes when she said, “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to impress me.”

Bucky froze for a second, then, slowly, he turned his head to look at her with an unreadable expression at first. But then the corner of his mouth quirked up, softening his otherwise stoic features. “Did it work?” he asked, carrying just a hint of challenge.

She felt a flutter in her chest she wasn’t ready to name. Biting her lip to suppress a smile, she fought to keep her voice steady. “Fix Edna,” she quipped, tilting her chin toward the kneader as if to deflect the heat in the air, “and maybe I’ll tell you.”

For a split second, something flickered in his eyes, an almost boyish mischief that made her pulse quicken. “Challenge accepted,” he said, turning back to the machine.

As he bent over the kneader, his metal hand steadying it while his flesh one worked the bolts loose, she let herself watch him for a moment. Something was mesmerizing about the way he moved: deliberate, confident, his sleeves pushed up to reveal forearms that looked sculpted to dismantle things like this.

Luckily for Bucky, Edna really was a piece of cake. As he worked through the simple mechanics of the old machine, a wave of relief settled over him. He didn’t know why he’d been so preoccupied with the possibility of failure. Maybe it was because the stakes weren’t just about fixing a kneader, it was about proving himself in some quiet, unspoken way.

“Do you have a cable extension to test it?” he asked after reassembling the final part, glancing over his shoulder at her.

“Yeah, hang on,” she said, disappearing for a moment before returning with a long orange cord. She plugged it in, watching as he connected it to the machine.

When the kneader whirred to life, steady and smooth, she clapped her hands together once, the sound bright and cheerful in the warm kitchen. Her smile, wide and genuine, was aimed directly at him. “You did it!” she exclaimed, with a contagious enthusiasm.

Bucky felt a jolt in his chest, like a sudden surge of energy. That smile, so pure and full of warmth, made him feel capable of almost anything. For a brief moment, it silenced the nagging voices in his head that constantly questioned his worth.

He turned off the machine and lifted it again, carefully placing it back in its original spot. He adjusted it slightly, turning it until it sat exactly as it had before, deliberately and unhurriedly.

“Show-off,” she teased lightly, eyes sparkling with amusement.

Still riding the wave of her praise, he smirked, grabbing a rag to wipe his hands. “So?” he asked, with a tone just bordering on playful. “You have to tell me now if it worked.”

She blinked, momentarily knitting her brows in confusion. “What…oh,” she murmured. He wasn’t talking about the machine. Her mind flicked back to their earlier exchange, and warmth crept up her neck as she bit her lip, suddenly feeling all too shy under his gaze.

“How could I not be impressed?” she said softly, meeting his eyes with a hint of nervousness.

Bucky’s smirk lingered since her words boosted his confidence. “Good to know,” he replied in a low, almost intimate tone.

Her laughter came nervously, breaking the silence. “Alright, Mr. Fix-It, let’s not-”

She didn’t finish her sentence since Bucky, still high on boldness, took a step closer. “You know,” he started in a steady voice, despite the rapid thrum of his heart, “I’m starting to think impressing you might be my new favorite hobby.”

Her lips parted in surprise, “Bucky…”

“Tell me if I’m reading this wrong,” he murmured, his flesh hand lifting just slightly, hovering near her arm as if waiting for permission.

She didn’t pull away. Instead, her nervous laugh melted into a smile, and her eyes locked onto his. “You’re not.”

That was all the confirmation he needed. Closing the gap between them, he leaned in, in a mix of deliberate but hesitant movements, like he feared the moment might shatter.

When their lips met, it was soft at first, a gentle, tentative connection that quickly deepened. Her hands instinctively rested against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath her palms.

For Bucky, the world seemed to narrow to just this: the warmth of her lips, the faint scent of flour and sugar on her skin, and the way she melted into him as if she belonged there.

When they let go, her eyes fluttered open, wide and searching, and her lips parted as if she wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words.

“Wow,” she breathed finally, the word barely audible but carrying all the wonder she couldn’t express.

Bucky’s gaze flicked between her eyes and her slightly swollen lips. His own breath was uneven, and his voice rough as he muttered, “Yeah. Wow.”

She let out a nervous laugh, her cheeks warm as she glanced down, only for him to tilt her chin up with a gentle finger. His expression had softened, the earlier mischief replaced by something more vulnerable.

Without waiting for her to pull away -or maybe daring her to- he leaned in again. This time, there was no hesitation, no careful testing. The second kiss was deeper, and more purposeful, stealing her breath away.

She responded instinctively, slipping her arms around his shoulders as she pressed closer. His metal hand found her waist, firm and steady, while his flesh one cradled her jaw, brushing his thumb along her cheek in a tender contrast to the intensity of the kiss.

The world outside the bakery seemed to fade, and when they finally broke apart, breathing heavily, her voice was soft, almost shy, as she finally managed to say, “If that’s how you fix things, maybe Edna should break more often.”

Bucky chuckled lowly, trailing his fingers down her arm as he leaned back just enough to see her face. “Careful, there,” he replied with boyish grin. “I might start breaking things on purpose.”

She laughed, shaking her head as her hands lingered against his chest. “Just… don’t let it be my heart, okay?”

The teasing glint in his eyes softened at her words, replaced by something deeper that made her heart race again.

“Never,” he promised leaning in slightly, nearly touching her forehead with his. Slowly, deliberately, his body shifted closer, bracketing his hands on her sides, palms resting lightly on the edge of the workbench, gently caging her in.

“If you have me, doll…” His voice softened, laced with a husky tremor, as though each word was pulled from the deepest parts of him. He paused, pressing his lips together briefly, while his gaze flickered uncertainly. She could see the struggle in his eyes, the weight of unspoken fears and hopes battling within him. “I’ll treasure you the way you deserve.”

There he was, exposed and raw, offering her the most vulnerable parts of himself. And she saw it all, the battered pieces, the scars both seen and unseen, and the wonder in his expression that someone like her could even consider him worth it.

All the previous cockiness evaporated as he waited for her response, his breath caught in his chest. He didn’t move, didn’t dare.

She blinked up at him, parting her lips slightly as her hands lifted from where they rested against the workbench. For a heartbeat, she hesitated, before reaching out, tracing the curve of his jaw.

“You already do,” she whispered. Her thumb brushed the faint stubble on his cheek, and she smiled softly, a mixture of disbelief and certainty shining in her eyes. She rose onto her toes and brought her lips to his. The kiss was more deliberate this time, an answer in every sense, with a confidence that left no room for doubt. When she pulled back slightly, she looked into his hooded eyes. “I’ll take care of you too, Bucky. I promise, " she said tenderly.

His lips curved into a rare, radiant smile, one that softened every hard edge of his tired face. He didn’t say anything at first, just stared at her with such unguarded joy it made her heart flutter all over again. Then, without warning, his strong hands found her waist, and he lifted her effortlessly off the ground.

She gasped, a delighted laugh spilling from her lips as he spun her around, the room blurring for a moment as the motion carried them both. His own low chuckle mingled with hers, a sound so rich and full like a victory, a triumph for once,  over the weight he’d been carrying for so long.

When he set her down gently, he kept his hands on her waist, and she leaned into him, their laughter fading into a warm, contented silence as she rested her hands against his chest. His heart raced beneath her palms, matching her erratic pulse.

They didn’t need to say anything more. At this moment, their shared warmth in the dusty floured kitchen was enough. The world and the rhythm of the weekday could wait a little longer.

Dividers by: @/strangergraphics

[gloomwitchwrites]

What If 141 and the best enemies to lovers line of all time...

"Who did this to you?"

Cue protective instincts and sexiness

hehe I am giggling!! Okay. Listen. I am fully aware that this is an enemies to lovers trope, but I don't think it applies to all of the 141 guys in that manner. Is there protectiveness? Yes. Is there a bit of spice? Yes, if you squint really hard. Is there also some sweetness thrown in? Absolutely there is. I had lots of fun with this one. I hope you enjoy it!

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x 141!Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, brief blood and injury, hurt/comfort, brief suggestive themes, protectiveness, light angst

Word Count: 800

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Who did this?” Kyle bends forward at the waist, pressing a bag of frozen peas to your face. His concern is genuine. You can see that, but it’s strange. The two of you get on, but this is something else.

Kyle looks…angry like your injury personally offends him.

“It’s nothing,” you murmur. “Things happen during sparing. It’s fine.”

Kyle’s frown only deepens. He doesn’t believe you. And why should he? The person you were placed with took it too far. And it was all to impress him as if putting you in your place would somehow grant his favor.

It’s clearly done the opposite. He could care less about your sparring partner.

“It was your sparring partner, wasn’t it?”

You don’t answer. Just press the peas to your forehead a little harder.

This time, Kyle’s frown turns slightly upward. “Jokes on them, ya?”

You glance at him sideways. “How so?”

Kyle is grinning. It’s stunning. All pearly white teeth.

“Because I have my eye on someone else,” he says simply, as if that answers everything.

Though you cannot see yourself, you feel your face growing hot under Kyle’s gaze.

“You shouldn’t say thing like that,” you reply.

“Why? It’s true.”

John Price

“Who did this?”

“Why do you care so much, John?”

You attempt to pull your face out of his grasp but he holds firm.

“Of course I care,” he replies. The two of you stare into each other’s eyes, chests heaving. John is close. Too close. So close he could easily brush his lips against yours.

“I don’t know why,” you murmur.

“You do,” he affirms, authority in his tone.

Do you? Maybe. Perhaps. Deep within yourself you truly know the reason but can’t decide to speak it to the air. That would make this real. Whatever this is between the two of you.

‘Tell me who did this?”

“And do that what?”

“What the fuck I want to them, love.”

“It’s nothing. You shouldn’t worry about it,” you reply, again trying to escape from him.

But John isn’t having it. His other hand hooks around your upper arm, and then you’re pressed closed to him. He is so warm. All strength.

“Let go,” you say, but there is no volume behind it. It is weak. Not even a protest.

“Tell me,” he repeats, head dipping slightly.

Yes. Close enough to kiss.

“Tell me,” he says again, this time softer.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon’s blood beats heavy. It is tinged with metal. A lace of fire that cannot abate.

His boots slap against the linoleum floor. The overhead lights are bright. Clinical. He is a shadow here. A dark specter.

No one stops him. No one glances his way.

And why should they?

He is a man made fury.

There were hands put upon you. A training exercise taken too far. Simon was not there. And he doesn’t know why. Not exactly. But he’s furious. Protective. The fact that he could not stop this only infuriates him further.

To him, this is a failure.

He doesn’t come to a stop. Doesn’t knock. He barges right on in.

The nurse yelps. Spins suddenly. Face red.

You glance up, eyes wide at first but soothing slightly as they land on Simon. You’re bruised. Stitched up.

Fucking hell.

“Out,” barks Simon.

The nurse leaves but stares him down the entire time. He approaches the table, and lightly brushes the backs of his fingers against the wound on your forehead.

“Who did this?” he asks.

“Simon—”

“Which fucker?” he growls, bending forward slightly to look into your eyes.

“Should see the other guy,” you joke, smiling.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny shouldn’t feel this way. He shouldn’t. You’re not his. Even if he wishes it were so.

Every swing of his fist sends the building frustration outward, shooting into the massive boxing bag before him. It’s a poor substitute for the face he truly wants to smash. Several faces that is. Two specifically.

Who did this?

The words slipped from him unbidden. An instant anger. You had only scowled. Told him you could handle yourself. And you can. Johnny knows this. But he’s still fucking pissed about it. Still seething.

All the fucker got was a quick slap on the wrist. A promise to not do it again.

That sits sour in Johnny’s belly.

But you didn’t cave, no matter how much Johnny insisted that he’d take care of it on your behalf. So he is here, punching the shit out of something that isn’t flesh.

He wishes he could take away your pain. Take away the memory. Give it to himself to carry. You don’t turn on your own. There’s no honor in what happened.

But as much as he wants it to be true, Johnny can do nothing.

You are not his.

Even if he wants to be.

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@sapphichotmess @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @statixx-x @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky

@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos

@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@pearljamislife @heeheehoohoohahahihi @eternallyvenus @burn1ngw00d @taysarchive

[enhaniki-san]

touché - reader x niki ｡𖦹°‧

warnings: very suggestive content, making out, etc.

part two: click here

niki has a way of quietly taking up space in your mind. you didn’t know when it started but to you, he just stood out without being so loud or seeking attention in your shared friend group.

lately, you noticed that whenever you glanced in his direction, you would found him already looking at you. perhaps he was just looking around the room, and you caught him mid-gaze but still, it's happening too often to ignore.

you began to feel self-conscious. thinking that niki might assume that you're always staring at him.

and without realizing it, you found yourself influenced by his style. you bought caps similar to one he always wore, you started layering necklaces, and even swapped your usual bag for a stylish crossbody one like his.

your eyes instinctively searched for him. you scanned the room and when you didn’t spot him, you sighed, frustrated with your own behavior. and as you turned around, you bumped into someone’s chest.

"woah..." came a familiar voice. niki's hands gently steadied your arms.

"ow..." you mumbled, holding your nose, which throbbed from the impact. "sorry..."

"you good?" he asked, tone light with a hint of concern. and without waiting for an answer, he smoothly guided you towards the kitchen.

you nodded, laughing softly while rubbing your nose. "yeah, i’m good. just clumsy, i guess."

niki laughed too, leaning casually opposite of you against the counter as you leaned against the kitchen sink.

he had been thinking about this. getting you alone and away from the group. not that it was a big deal or anything, but he's been feeling you and noticing you more lately. it wasn’t something he planned exactly but now that you're here, just the two of you, it felt like a good chance.

he just have to act normal.

"so… i've been seeing you here a lot lately." he said, crossing his arms.

you nodded, feeling a little awkward under his stare. "yea- yeah, i guess i have been pretty social these days."

"you've been dressing differently too." niki pointed out, his eyes flicking briefly to your cap and necklaces.

your eyes widened slightly and your cheeks burned in his sudden comment. "oh, uh… just trying something new." you laughed nervously.

"it suits you." he said with a smirk. as if he knows exactly who you dresses like.

trying to change the subject, you cleared your throat as you reached for a jar of jam on the counter. you scooped a small spoonful into your mouth.

niki gestured for the jar as you ate. without thinking, you handed it over, still talking about something trivial.

and niki didn’t bother getting a new spoon. he dipped the one you just used, taking a bite while you're yapping. he's looking at you with an intensity, making your words gone.

"you were saying?" he prompted, lips curving into a mischievous grin as he held the spoon in his mouth.

you stammered. completely forgetting your train of thought.

niki chuckled at your reaction. he started to walk towards you. tossing the spoon into the sink with a casual flick of his wrist. he took a step closer making you lean back against the sink while your heart beats so fast in your chest.

still keeping his eyes on you, he reached and turned your cap backwards, his fingers brushing against your hair.

"there. much better." he smiled with a low and teasing voice.

niki looked in your eyes for a while, smiling. he tilted his head and very slowly, he leaned in. your eyes fluttered shut as you melted into the moment when niki placed a kiss on your lips.

he pulled back slightly and saw the dazed look on your face, a flicker of amusement crossed his lips. "not enough?" he asked you in his mind.

niki held your face gently. this time he leaned in again with more urgency. deepening the kiss, his lips moving against yours in a way that sent shivers down your spine. you could taste the sweetness of the jam on his mouth as the kiss grew hungrier.

his hands began to roam. they slid from your neck down your back and to your waist. and with a firm and gentle grip, he pulled your body closer to his. niki pressed his body against yours harder each kiss.

the heat between you was overwhelming, making you let out a soft gasp and he seized the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue exploring yours with a skill that made your knees weak.

you can feel his smirk against your lips, clearly pleased with your reaction.

the sound of someone shouting his name from another room shattered the moment. both of you froze, your lips parting with an audible sound.

niki pressed his forehead against yours. his breathing ragged but gave you another kiss.

"should i deal with him or should we get out of here?"

"uhh… deal with him?"

niki smiled and chuckled. he was expecting you say otherwise but anyway, he gave you another quick peck on the lips before stepping back. "wait, i'll be right back."

you exhaled shakily when he left. a wide grin spreading across your face like an idiot. you couldn’t believe what just happened.

you stayed frozen in place, leaning against the sink, your fingers brushing over your tingling lips as if to confirm it wasn’t a dream.

the warmth of his touch and the taste of the jam still lingered, making it impossible to focus on anything else. you kept replaying the moment over and over in your mind.

you can hear the distant hum of conversations from the other room. niki returned, his presence filling the room like it always did. "miss me?" he asked casually, leaning against the counter once more as if nothing had happened.

you rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool despite the heat rushing to your cheeks. "you were gone for, like, five minutes."

niki smirked, his eyes dropping briefly to your lips before returning to your eyes. "felt longer."

you bit your lip, looking down to avoid his piercing stare but he wasn’t about to let you escape so easily.

"so..." he started, stepping closer once again. "why do I always catch you looking at me but never saying anything?"

"but i don't." you said, searching for a defense but coming up blank.

niki leaned in, his hands casually rested on the edge of the sink on either side of you, effectively trapping you in place. "it's okay, though." he murmured, his voice soft but teasing. "i like it. it’s cute."

your breath hitched as his face hovered inches from yours, his proximity making it impossible to think straight. "you sure you're not imagining things?" you managed to ask, though your voice wavered.

"oh?" niki smirked at your comments. totally amused that you're still denying it. "am I?"

you opened your mouth to respond but the words died in your throat when he leaned even closer, his lips just barely grazing your ear.

"you're not very good at hiding it, you know,” he whispered, his warm breath tickling your skin.

you turned your head slightly, your eyes meeting his. niki's look was steady and full of confidence.

"and what about you?" you asked him. surprising yourself with your boldness. "you're not exactly subtle either."

niki chuckled softly. "touché."

Before he could say more, the sound of someone walking toward the kitchen interrupted the moment. niki straightened himself. his hands falling back to his sides though his eyes never left yours.

"we're not done here." he said quietly, grinning.

niki then casually greeted the person entering the kitchen as if nothing happened.

a/n: hello read part two here

read part-timers!niki x reader

read part-timers!niki x reader part 2

read snitch - reader x niki

read exes - reader x niki

[willowsnook]

Concerned (LN)

lando norris x neighbor!reader

Another late night working and you were exhausted. You’d been on PTO the week before, so now you were playing catch-up and drowning. Trudging back to you apartment, you rounded the corner and ran right into someone else.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” your neighbor said at the same time you started to apologize. You had met him a couple of times, but he was gone a lot, so it was a pretty standard friendly neighbor relationship.

“You look horrible.” The words slipped from your lips before you could stop them, and a small, amused smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. His face was haggard, dark circles under his eyes and a weary expression that spoke of sleepless nights. The lines on his forehead deepened as he tried to hide his fatigue, but you couldn't help but notice how drained he looked.

“I’ve had trouble sleeping,” he admitted, and you tilted your head, looking for more, but he didn’t say anything else.

“Okay, come on,” you said, heading towards your apartment. With a moment's hesitation, he followed behind you into your apartment. The first thing that caught his eye was the unique decor - the walls adorned with scattered pieces of art, each telling its own story. The colors and textures clashed and complemented each other in a chaotic symphony, creating an atmosphere that felt both whimsical and intimate. He couldn't help but feel drawn in, wanting to explore every inch of this quirky space that was a reflection of you.

You sat him down on a barstool in the kitchen before opening a cabinet filled with various powders and ingredients. He watched as you contemplated a bit before picking a couple down and placing them on the counter. Filling the kettle and putting it on the stove, you turned back to him and tried to figure him out.

“You have a lot of ingredients for tea,” he said, not knowing what to say.

“Yeah, I read this book earlier this year about a woman who owned a tea shop and then became fixated on making perfect tea,” you said and he smiled. He felt himself starting to relax around you, appreciative that you hadn’t pushed on why he looked so tired even though he knew you probably had a good idea.

The comfortable silence lasted a couple of more minutes before being interrupted by the high scream of the kettle, and you carefully poured it into a cup that would turn it into your favorite tea invention.

“Let it cool for a couple of minutes,” you told him, and he nodded, picked it up, and moved to the couch. You unpacked your bag from work, looking up occasionally to see him sipping and staring out of your grand windows. Deciding he was probably fine by himself, you went to take a shower and change into your pajamas.

As you emerged from the bedroom 20 minutes later, you spotted the familiar mug sitting on the coffee table, and him sprawled out, fast asleep on the couch. A small smile tugged at your lips as you quietly made your way over to him, careful not to wake him. The soft light filtering through the window cast a gentle glow on his sleeping face. You reached for a nearby blanket and draped it over his body, making sure he was warm and comfortable before retreating back to your room.

The next morning you slept in a little later before coming back out into the kitchen. Lando was still snoring softly on the couch and you kept quiet as you made coffee and pulled out eggs for breakfast. You heard him stir and looked over your shoulder to see him sitting up, yawning. He slipped off the couch and made his way towards you.

“I owe you one,” he said and you waved him off. “You are my favorite neighbor.”

“What an honor,” you joked and he smiled.

“What can I do to repay you?”

You stood thinking for a second before smirking, “Well I’d love it if you could get me Carlos’ autograph; he’s my favorite driver.”

He scrunched his eyebrows together disapprovingly, causing deep lines to form on his forehead. You couldn't help but let out a small laugh at his reaction before turning back to the skillet of sizzling eggs.

“I’m going to head out now, but again, thank you for last night. I really needed it,” he said, and you turned, surprising him as you hugged him. His embrace was tight but not suffocating, and his arms felt strong and sturdy around you. When he pulled back, you could feel the weight of his exhaustion in the way his body slumped slightly.

“You need to take care of yourself,” you said.

“It’s hard,” he replied and you pulled back to see his sad eyes looking back at you. Giving him one last smile, he left you to make breakfast, retreating back to his own place.

———————————————————————

The rest of your weekend went by quickly and you enjoyed the relaxation of not having to think about work. Sunday afternoon, you were deep cleaning your apartment, casually paying attention to the football games you had in the background. After scrubbing your kitchen, you took a break, pulling out your phone and scrolling through Twitter.

Now, you weren’t a big F1 fan; you just tuned in every once in a while mainly because you thought it was cool that you knew a driver, but you’d see tweets on your timeline every once in a while. One caught your attention, and you opened the thread to see some account commenting on a recent stream that Lando had been on with his friends. You watched the video of his friends making fun of him for eating expired food and giggled as they ragged on him.

Thinking back to the other night, you started to actually be concerned about him eating expired food. First of all, it was gross as fuck. Secondly, it could easily make him sick. Having an idea, you grabbed your keys before heading off to the grocery store.

A couple of hours later you were outside Lando’s door, having just knocked on it. He was surprised to see you standing there when he swung open the door.

“I have something for you,” you said, and his eyes flickered down to the bag in your hand before letting you in. Setting it down on the counter, you began pulling out all the Tupperware filled with several different things.

“This should last you until you have to leave again to race,” you said nonchalantly, turning to look at you. He looked at you wide-eyed, taking in what you did for him.

“You made me food?” He asked slowly and you nodded.

“I heard that you were eating expired food, which is disgusting,” you said, and a small smile crossed his face. “That could also kill you, and it would be really irritating to have a bunch of police and noise here to deal with it.”

“Mmmhmm,” he said smirking. “So you did it because you didn’t want to be inconvenienced if I poisoned myself?”

“Exactly,” you told him. “If you were my favorite driver, I would say I was doing it because I care about you and want to make sure you are okay.”

“But I’m not your favorite,” he said and you nodded. “Correct.”

He smiled to himself as you bid him goodbye before heading back.

Later that night he hopped on to stream with Max who instantly asked him what he had for dinner.

“A burrito bowl,” he replied and Max perked up.

“Did you order it?” He asked and Lando shook his head.

“No, my neighbor heard that I was eating expired food so she made me a bunch of meal prepped things to last a couple of weeks.”

“Was it your hot neighbor?” Max asked with a smirk and Lando blushed.

“Yes,” he mumbled.

“Just so everyone in the chat knows, Lando has been simping over one of his neighbors for almost a year now, and instead of just talking to her like a normal person, he just stalks her on social media and turns into a lovesick school boy anytime he sees her.”

“That’s not true,” he complained and Max laughed.

"Remember when you saw her at the little coffee shop by your place? She chatted with you for what, five minutes? You couldn't stop talking about it for weeks," he teased, savoring the memory of his friend's flustered excitement.

“Shut up mate,” Lando muttered with a slight grin. Little did he know that you had been tuned into the stream, listening to all of this.

pt 2

[marsdql]

only around you — p.sh﹙박성훈﹚

snyopsis ៸ acting like a brat all day with the members until Sunghoon comes back from practice and realising that all you need is a little bit of attention. ៸៸ ft enhypen members ៸៸ -> masterlist

genre ៸ fluff, smut, pwp, shy brat!reader ┊ wordcount ៸ 1.4k content warning ៸ sexually explicit content, softdom!sunghoon, p in v, corruption!kink, praise!kink, a lot of babying, unprotected sex, a lot of petnaming ┊ not proofread ៸

Laughter filled the room as you and the members put on a movie to watch. You and Jay were on the couch meanwhile sunoo, jungwon and ni-ki were sitting on the carpet. Your boyfriend Sunghoon went out to grab a few snacks with Heeseung and Jake.

Everyone was cracking jokes, playfully messing with eachother—however you on the other hand, was glaring at everyone with a death stare, your mind elsewhere. You just wanted your boyfriend here, sunghoon.

“I don’t wana’ watch this movie.. ‘s too boring” you whined as you gripped onto Jay, the only guy out of them who you could never act bratty to.

“Shut up, brat” Ni-ki snickered. “Y/n, could you pass the gummies?” Jungwon asked, making your eyes widened—everyone knows the gummy bears are reserved for you, how dare he ask that?

“No! They’re mine.” You told him. He gave the members a questionable look, wondering what got you so fussy today. “Did you sleep on the wrong side of the bed today y/n?” Sunoo asked, giggling to his own comment.

Just as you were about to get up and pull sunoo by the hair from his cheeky message—Sunghoon, Jake and Heeseung walked through the door. They noticed how nobody ran to them after they placed the bags full of snacks on the counter—sensing that something was up.

Jay gave an obvious ‘😬’ look to Jake and Heeseung. That’s when Sunghoon looked over to you, watching everyone else in the room stare at you as you kept your arms wrapped around your knees and your eyes on the ground.

That’s when your boyfriend broke the silence. “Alright, what’s going on?” He questioned the members, to which they replied with—“she’s been acting bratty all night!”.

You got closer to Jay, hoping to have his presence as a form of back up in this situation, he was the only one other than Sunghoon that didn’t tease you when you just felt like being annoying. “no I wasn’t!” You squealed, the pout on your lips deepening.

Sunghoon sighed, slowly walking towards your side of the couch and kneeled to get to your eye level, “what is it, what’s wrong, baby?” He asked you—you still refusing to look at him.

He started rubbing your legs softly, making soothing circles in hopes to calm you down. Soon enough, you opened up. “They’re being mean, hoonie..” making puppy eyes and sucking your inner cheek.

“No we’re no-“ Ni-ki was about to protest, before Heeseung covered his mouth—signaling everyone to forget it and pay attention to the movie, leaving you and sunghoon in your own bubble.

Sunghoon sighed, closing his eyes for a minute before getting up and sitting next to you. “C’mere” he demanded softly, pulling you up on his lap as you stayed quiet.

He held your chin, slowly bringing it up so you could face him, “why’re you feeling like this? Hm, baby? What’s up?” He asked.

You didn’t respond, only leaning in and hugging him tighter, your back arching a little on him to stay as close as possible. He figured it out almost instantly. “I know what my baby wants.”

He carefully picked you up and told the members that you needed to go to bed—to which they all agreed and said their ‘good nights’. As you got to your shared bedroom, he sat down on your bed—still holding you.

“You just needed me, I know, baby.” He coo’d “that’s okay”. You only whined in response, shifting yourself on his lap. “You just need some attention, don’t you sweet girl?” he whispered. “miss you s’much hoon..” you pouted, nuzzling into his chest.

“I know you do baby, I miss you too, soo much.” He groaned, bringing his hands to your waist under your shirt and gripping softly. “Hoon.. need you, please?” you whined, your voice full of neediness.

“Lift up a lil’ love,” he urged, gently sliding your pjs shorts off. Before he could insert his digits into you, you stopped him—“noo.. want it’ now, no prep” you exclaimed. “You sure, princess?” He asked, to which you nodded.

He didn’t waste time—quickly putting it in but still respecting your boundaries, letting you adjust before moving. He looked at you, waiting for your ‘okay’ so that he could continue.

You whined at the discomfort when he put it in, grabbing onto his shoulders for comfort. “Shh, you’re okay—you can do it, fuck—Like you always do.” He reassured, hushing you with messy kisses like he always does.

He didn’t waste anytime burying himself deeper in you after a few seconds of your whimpering. He missed you just as much as you missed him, especially knowing how cranky you get after a long day away from his touch.

Sunghoon added pressure to the bulge he was forming in your stomach—lightly pressing on it, making you lay your head on his shoulder and moving your arms up to his neck as his other hand grabbed your hair.

“You’re clenching’ me, babe” he groaned, pushing your body up against his even more, your chest getting pressed onto his. You leaned in to kiss him more in hopes to hide the amount of moans that were slipping out of you. “I love you soo—ngh! much h-hoonie..” you mumbled.

“hmph..Sunghoon! ‘m gona come..!” You moaned, lifting your head up as you bucked your hips, clearly asking for him to help you reach your high. He smirked, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he felt you squeeze him tighter than you already were. “c’mon, that’s it, come for me y/n.”

His pace slowed down, almost making you complain until he suddenly did one last harsh thrust—letting all his cum fill you up, a loud groan coming from the back of his throat.

You shortly came undone a few seconds later, letting all your weight collapse on him when you finally finished, feeling exhausted.

He started giving you little pecks—in which you gave in return, still feeling a little clingy. After a few, you tired yourself out and let him take control. “Let’s really get you to bed now, sounds good?”

[0omillo0]

Always Listening

Jeongin x Reader ;༊๋࣭ comfort ♡

a/n: y/n is a certified yapper and jeongin loves her more than anything. but.. does she really annoy everyone by talking that much?

It was a lively evening, filled with laughter and celebration. You, Jeongin, and the boys had decided to go out to a cozy restaurant downtown to celebrate Jisung’s recent accomplishment—a project he’d been pouring his heart into for months had finally been completed, and the results were better than anyone had expected.

The table was buzzing with excitement, everyone chatting at once, exchanging jokes, and sharing stories. You sat beside Jeongin, your hand occasionally brushing against his under the table. From the moment you arrived, you couldn’t stop talking. Whether it was about Jisung’s project, the outfit you almost wore tonight, or the funny incident at work earlier that day, words spilled from your lips with your usual energy.

Jeongin listened intently, as he always did, his soft smile never leaving his face. His hand found its way to your knee beneath the table, a quiet gesture that said, I’m here. I’m listening.

“Wait, wait, so what happened with the barista again?” Jeongin asked, his tone warm and curious.

You laughed, recounting the story for what felt like the third time. “She misspelled my name so badly, I couldn’t even recognize it. I had to double-check that it was my coffee!”

The table chuckled, but just as you were about to continue, Seungmin’s dry voice cut through the laughter.

“Don’t you ever stop talking?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

Everyone laughed—it was classic Seungmin, known for his sarcastic humor. No one took him too seriously, and you usually didn’t either. But tonight, the words hit differently. Your laughter faltered for just a second before you forced it back, brushing off the comment with a weak smile.

The boys continued chatting, unaware of your sudden shift in mood. Jeongin glanced at you, his brows furrowing slightly when he noticed your silence.

“Babe, you okay?” he whispered, leaning closer so only you could hear.

You nodded quickly, not trusting yourself to speak. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you murmured, poking at the food on your plate.

But you weren’t fine. The noise of the restaurant, the laughter around you—it all felt overwhelming now. The comment replayed in your head, louder each time, until you couldn’t hear anything else.

Jeongin tried to engage you in conversation a few more times, but your responses were short, your usual enthusiasm dimmed. He didn’t push, but his hand stayed on your knee, his thumb rubbing gentle circles as if to reassure you.

When you couldn’t hold back the tears any longer, you excused yourself. “I’ll be right back,” you said quickly, not looking at anyone as you got up and headed for the bathroom.

The moment you were alone, the dam broke. Tears streamed down your face as you locked the door and leaned against the sink.

Why did it bother me so much? you thought bitterly, wiping at your cheeks. It was just a joke. Seungmin didn’t mean anything by it. But no matter how much you rationalized it, the sting remained. You couldn’t help but feel like maybe you did talk too much, like your excitement and chatter were more of an annoyance than anything else.

Once the tears slowed, you splashed cold water on your face and took a deep breath. Your reflection stared back at you, puffy-eyed and red-nosed. Determined not to ruin the night for everyone else, you fished a small makeup pouch from your bag and did your best to cover the evidence of your crying.

When you returned to the table, you forced a smile, slipping back into your seat as if nothing had happened. Jeongin’s eyes immediately searched yours, his concern deepening when he noticed the faint redness around them.

“Y/N, are you—”

“I’m fine,” you interrupted, your voice a little too bright. “What did I miss?”

The boys carried on, but Jeongin didn’t take his eyes off you.

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly, leaning in.

“I’m sure,” you lied, flashing him a smile.

Han wasn’t convinced. “You okay, Y/N? You’ve been quiet tonight,” he asked, his tone soft and concerned.

“Me? Of course!” you said with a laugh, waving him off. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

The night finally came to an end, and as the group dispersed, Jeongin took your hand, lacing your fingers with his. He stayed quiet on the way home, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand as he mulled over how to approach the conversation.

Once inside, you sank onto the couch, your energy completely drained. Jeongin knelt in front of you, his hands resting gently on your knees.

“Y/N, please talk to me,” he said softly, his dark eyes filled with worry.

You tried to shake your head, but the lump in your throat returned. “It’s nothing, Jeongin. I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” he said gently. “You haven’t been yourself all night. Please, tell me what’s wrong.”

His words broke you. Tears welled up in your eyes as you whispered, “It’s stupid.”

“Nothing that makes you feel this way is stupid,” he said firmly, reaching up to brush a tear from your cheek.

You took a shaky breath, trying to gather your thoughts. “It’s just… what Seungmin said. I know he didn’t mean anything by it, but it made me feel… annoying. Like I talk too much and no one cares about what I say.”

Jeongin pulled back slightly, cupping your face in his hands. “Y/N, stop that. Stop thinking that for even a second. You’re not annoying. You’re never annoying.”

“But—”

“No ‘but,’” he interrupted firmly. “I love the way you talk. I love hearing every little thing that’s on your mind. I love how excited you get about the smallest things and how you light up when you’re telling a story. Don’t let one joke make you feel like you need to change.”

His words cracked something open inside you, and you broke down completely, clutching onto him as you sobbed. Jeongin held you tightly, murmuring comforting words into your hair and pressing soft kisses to your temple.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “Let it out, babe. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

When your sobs finally quieted, he guided you to sit back against the couch, brushing away the last of your tears with his thumbs.

“I don’t want you to hold back because of something someone said, okay?” he said gently. “Your voice is one of my favorite things about you. Don’t ever be afraid to use it.”

You nodded, your throat still tight. “Thank you, Jeongin.”

He smiled, leaning in to kiss you softly. “Always. I mean it, Y/N—I’ll always listen to you.”

You let out a watery laugh, leaning into his embrace. Jeongin stayed with you on the couch, holding you close and whispering sweet reassurances until you felt like yourself again.

And that night, as you lay in bed, his arms wrapped around you protectively, you knew you’d found the best boyfriend anyone could ever ask for.

tags: @hannamoon143 @intartaruginha

[boypied]

Bed Chem

[meet-cute] logan howlett x male reader

summary: while you're out for groceries, you accidentally bump into a majorly sensual dilf and after many failed dates where you've been mistreated or stood up you decide to give the dilf a chance and it's the best decision you could've ever made.

wc: 2.4k

notes: MDNI, FDNI, smut, age gap, dominant logan, submissive reader, riding, praise kink, unprotected anal sex, oral sex (r!giving), nipple sucking, spit kink, light body/facial slapping.

You hear the ding of the bell as the electric doors open up as you push your trolley into the supermarket. It's been a while since you've gone for a food shop, so you thought that it's probably best to go now and stop procrastinating before you die from starvation from the lack of food in your house. You grip the handle of the trolley as you begin walking down the first aisle of the supermarket as the sound of the wheels spinning fills your ears as well as the loud noise of people clattering past you. You pick up a bar of your favourite chocolate, gently placing it down in the trolley just to make sure it doesn't break or crack, and you can actually enjoy the bar instead of shavings of it. You begin pushing the trolley out of the chocolate aisle and into the freezer section. You opened up the freezer and felt the cold air hit your body immediately, giving you goosebumps as you pulled out the bag of frozen vegetables, placing it down in your trolley. You begin pushing your trolley forward as you hear your phone ping, bringing your eyes down to look at your phone as you tried to read the message you've just been sent from your friend as you feel a collision as you crash your trolley into someone else's one. Your eyes widen as your stomach crashes into the handle of the trolley as your phone flies forward and you fall on the floor in the most dramatic way possible, "what the fuck" you mumble out under your breath as you slowly flutter your eyes open to be met with a scruffy beard older man looking down at you, "are you okay?" He says in a gruff tone as he looks at you over his small glasses that rest on the bridge of his nose.

You stay lying on the floor for a moment until you take his hand and feel the force of your body flying up as he pulls you up towards his body, "Sorry about that" he says in a soft tone as he gently squeezes your hand before pulling away. He brings his hand up to delicately caress the bump on your forehead that occurred when you hit the floor, "Ooh, that's a nasty bump," he says in a concerned manner "Better get some ice on that before it gets so bad" he gives you advice with a warm smile on his face, deepening his smile lines as he looks at you. He leans down into the freezer beside you both and grips a bag of peas, gently placing them against your forehead. "Sorry, this was all my fault. I wasn't looking at where I was going." You begin rambling on about how sorry you are until Logan just starts laughing as he places his other hand on your shoulder, "I wasn't looking at where I was going either, I was cleaning my bathroom." He says to you in a low tone so that no one else hears that he was partially to blame for the collision. You let out a chuckle, and your cheeks redden, feeling his hand scrunch against your shoulder as he removes the iced peas away from your forehead. "So..are you seeing anyone?" Logan says straight up as he smiles at you with an innocent look on his face. Your eyes widen, and you choke on your spit. "woah! That's a bit forward, " you say while chuckling, and Logan joins in on your laughs. Shrugging his shoulder and he steps closer to you, closing the distance between the two of you. Logan brings his hand up to caress your cheek. "I know, but it's not every day an old man like me comes across a guy that is so... smoking hot." He says to you as he bends down to come face to face with you as he stares into your eyes, making your face go from pink to a deep shade of red "do I make you nervous...sexy" he whispers in your ear causing you to let out a quiet whimper at him words. Your asshole is practically opening up for him already, opening up for that sexy old man. You both stare at each other for a moment before a small smirk begins to grow on your face as you finally make eye contact with him.

twenty minutes later

Logan manages to slide his key into his locked door, giving it a couple of rattles, and then he twists the key, hearing the sound of the lock unlocking itself. His breath hitches as he feels you cover his neck in kisses latching your lips on his neck, giving him a fresh hickey next to the previous one you gave him just moments before. Your legs wrapped around his waist while his veiny hand gripped against one cheek to hold you steady while Logan pushes the door open, he watches it swing open in a swift motion as you run your hands through the back of his hair as you whimper tasting his neck. He kicks his door shut, listening to it slam shut. He lays you down against his couch as he stares down at you as you begin undressing for him, revealing more and more of your body to him. Logan doesn't take his eyes off you as he tears his shirt off his body, revealing his hairy chest and perfectly chiselled body. You gasp as your eyes focus on his body. He unbuckles his belt, throwing it onto the couch chair next to him, saving it for something he might do with you later on. He pulls down his jeans revealing his thick bulge in his underwear as you pull off your underwear exposing your cock to him. "fuck" he grumbles out underneath his breath as he watches you expose yourself for him. Logan sits down on the couch as you get down on your knees on the cold wooden floor, you run your hands over his thighs as he caresses his thumb against your lower lip. You gently place a kiss on his thumb causing him to bite his own lower lip. You gently lean down to place a kiss on his thigh as your eyes never leave his until he pulls down his briefs to release his monster of a cock causing you to let out a gasp, "it's big, right?" Logan says in a slight cocky tone causing you to nod your head.

You lean forward slightly wrapping your hands around the base of his cock, gently placing a kiss against his pre-cum soaked tip. Logan lays his head back, and his eyes flutter shut, feeling your touch against his sensitive member. Your eyes flutter slightly until they look up to study his face as you notice the pure bliss as you turn your head to the side to run your tongue all the way down to his base, placing a little kiss on his balls causing Logan's body to shudder. "Baby." he coos out in a low tone as he reaches out to stroke the back of your head, pulling you closer to him. You swirl your tongue around his tip, making sure to savour the flavour of his pre-cum soaked tip. Logan leans his head forward to watch as his cock slowly disappears into the warmth of your wet mouth, your tongue sliding all over his cock as it gets further and further into your throat. You press your face right against his bushy pubes making sure to breathe in his manly scent, a scent that you're already growing to love. "Mhm," you moan out as your tongue slides down the back of his cock making Logan let out sharp but manly whines, "f-fuck" he grunts out as he places his hands either side of your head "Can I?" He says in a gentle tone as you loom up at him and nod your head while his cock is buried in your throat. He takes the consent you've given him and he slowly takes control of your head, using it as a fleshlight for his cock. "M-Mhm!" You whimper out as he speeds up, his hands holding your head as you slide up and down on his length your tongue savouring the taste of the pre-cum that is currently pouring out of the tip of his cock and coating your tongue. He pulls your head off his cock and begins to breathe heavily as you watch his spit coated cock glisten and twitch "S-Sorry...if we carried on with that I would've nutted" he says slightly embarrassed but you get up and straddle his lap placing your hand either side of his face causing him to look up at you, "don't be embarrassed, I'd of taken it as a compliment" you say softly causing him to let out a chuckle.

You place your thumb against his lip, "o-open," you mumble out shyly to him as you caress his lower lip. Logan happily obliged to you slightly out of the blue request but opened wide and sticks his tongue out. You let a string of spit drop out of your mouth and onto Logan's tongue. He makes sure to lap it up and swallow it all. Logan's hands caress your back as he makes his way down to grip your asscheeks very firmly, "so juicy," he mumbles out under his breath as he gives it a gently tap just to see your reaction "h-harder" you mumble out in a soft innocent seeming tone but he makes sure to obey your command and he spanks your ass harder causing it to send a ripple across your thigh, his rock hard cock pressed against your tight asshole that is pulsating and begging for more. "f-fuck me." You lean closer to him, whispering seductively into his ear, causing his body to shudder with excitement. "Ever been fucked by someone much older?" He whispers back to you while leaning forward to gently take your nipple into his mouth as he slowly runs his tongue back and forth over the nub, you shake your head "n-no" you say in a soft tongue as your breath hitches feeling his tongue against your nipple. Logan's hand grip onto your hips whilst the other graps his own cock and he lines up his cock with your hole that is so desperately begging for a good pounding. Once his cock is finally lined up he grips both sides of your hips firmly and he gently begins to push you down feeling his cock push past the tight muscle ring and deep into your velvet walls, inch by inch you take his thick cock, your asshole widening to accommodate his girthy size.

Once you're finally at the base, Logan bucks his hips up slightly to adjust his body. Your eyes flutter back as you feel his cock twitch inside of you and with each twitch of his sensitive cock your g-spot gets touched, "mhm" you mumble out practically too cock dumb to even think or create a sentence. You gently place your hands down against his hairy chest as you slowly begin to pick up your body and slam down against his thighs with a loud slap noise. Logan places his hands behind his head as he watches as you pick yourself up just to slam yourself down against his body. He watches the pure bliss that is plastered across your face. Logan wraps one of his hands around your cock and he begins to slowly pull back and forth as he jerks you off, he tries to match the rhythm of which you're bouncing on his cock aswell as curving his hand up with each jerk that sends shivers up your spine from how good it feels. You speed up your bounces as your hands caress his pecs, Logan's hands speed up as he jerks you off. You throw your head back in pure bliss as you feel Logan's cock twitch inside you indicating that he is close and with the way he is jerking you off, you're aswell. "L-Logan!" You whimper out as your cock twitches, your eyes flutter back as he speeds up his hand movements causing you to shoot your load all over his hand, you slow down your bounces as you breathe heavily and with your release Logan's cock twitches and he shoots his load deep inside of you. Your eyes flutter back as you feel his load painting your velvet walls white. You breathe heavily as your body collapses against Logan's exposed one.

Logan brings his cum soaked hand to his mouth as he licks your cum off it, "mhm...d-did it taste nice?" You mumble out tiredly as your body rests against his. Logan smirks and nods his head as he grips the base of his cock and pulls his semi-hard cock out of your asshole, "do you wanna stay over?" He whispers in your ear in a soft tone as he gently places a kiss on your cheek, "y-yeah I'd love too" you say softly as Logan picks you up and carries you into his bathroom and he places you down in the bath as he climbs in behind you. You rest your body against his as the tub fills up with warm water as you watch it coat both your bodies. You both relax in the bath for a while, cleaning each other up but while you're laying there you feel his cum drip out of your asshole and into the bath water. After a long warm bath, you and Logan both climb out and dry off. Logan hands you a large fluffy robe as you tie it around your waist, and you watch as he slips on plaid pyjama bottoms and a white vest. He leans down as you place his glasses on his face, pushing it up the bridge of his nose, and you gently bite your lip, Logan walks over to his armchair, and he picks up a book as he opens it up and begins reading as you walk over to him and you climb up to sit on his lap and you rest your legs over the arm rest as you lay you head against Logan's, this is what you've longed for a sexy man who knows how to please you but also is a cutie patootie, you think to yourself as you read the words with him as he flicks through the book pages.

taglist ~ @starboye @mailmango @ghostking4m @kingchaospostsstuff @crispysoup318 @inhumanshadows @its-ares @gayaristocrat @cronasluvr @irlsamcarpenter @lucerothings1 @gaefaeyae @dqrkhold @sluttyhusband

[tyunderella]

a warm embrace~

୨ৎ summary : you go for a cute trip to jeju with your boyfriend, and the stay in the hotel is definitely better!

୨ৎ word count: around 3,1k

୨ৎ warnings: smut and some fluff, f!reader, dom!taehyun, sub!reader, whiny and lowkey loud reader, needy sex because they love eachother so much, some praise, slight degradation, petnames and name calling.. (pretty, princess, cockslut), unprotected sex, creampie, i think that's all!

୨ৎ a/n: ummm it's my first fic… i feel like the smut part sucks and it definitely misses something >.< i also think that i repeated lots of words.. i'm half awake.. i promise to do better the next time! feedback is very appreciated! more under cut :)

the soft hum of the car’s engine dies as taehyun pulls into the small gravel parking lot overlooking the beach. his sunglasses slide down slightly on the bridge of his nose as he turns to you with a grin.

“we’re here!" he says, voice brimming with excitement. his eyes sparkle happily as they reach your face. “your first jeju trip with me—isn’t this special?”

you glance out the window, taking in the sight of the crystal-clear ocean stretched out before you, its waves sparkling under the midday sun. the salty sea breeze filters into the car, carrying the promise of a carefree day. smiling, you turn back to him.

“it’s already special because i’m with you.” you say, voice full of teasing but earnest. you look him up and down, eyes full of appreciation.

taehyun chuckles, his dimple deepening. “you’re getting good at sweet-talking me, huh? come on, let’s have some fun.”

you both step out of the car, and the warm sun immediately kisses your skin. taehyun grabs the small picnic bag from the trunk and slings it over his shoulder, his white button-up catching the sunlight. his casual outfit—a loose shirt and black shorts—suits him so perfectly it feels like a fashion designer tailored the look just for him.

he glances back, holding out a hand. he wiggles his fingers in your direction, raising a eyebrow. “ready?”

“ready.” you say, slipping your hand into his as you sigh contently. the feeling of being close to him makes you even more relaxed.

his touch is warm and familiar, and as you walk down the sandy path together, you can’t help but feel like this moment is pulled straight from a dream. the sound of the waves grows louder as the beach comes into view, the golden sand stretching endlessly ahead.

you pause at the edge of the shore, where the sand meets the water, and look up at taehyun. "it's beautiful.." you murmur, your voice almost lost in the gentle roar of the ocean.

taehyun, however, isn’t looking at the water. Instead, his gaze is fixed on you. "it is.” he replies, the words carrying a weight that makes your heart skip a beat.

when you notice his lingering stare, you playfully nudge his shoulder. "are you going to keep staring, or are we going to explore?" you grin a bit, trying not to giggle.

he laughs, the sound light and full of affection as he eyes you up and down, appreciating the way you look in your tank top. "alright, alright. let’s explore."

the two of you wander down the shore, your footprints leaving temporary marks in the soft sand. you stop every now and then to pick up interesting shells, taehyun occasionally tossing one back into the waves when he decides it’s not ‘worthy’ of the collection.

“look at this one!” you say, holding up a shell with intricate pink swirls. your eyes sparkle with excitement, voice soft and quiet. “this has to be the prettiest one yet..”

taehyun leans in to inspect it, his face so close to yours that you can feel his breath against your cheek. “not bad.” he says, grinning. “but i’ve got something prettier.”

you raise an eyebrow, a bit curious to see what he has on his mind. “oh? show me.” you put the shell down, putting your hands on your hips.

instead of picking up another shell, he points at you with a smile, poking your sides, enjoying the adorable giggle you let out. “found it.”

you squirm and try to step away, jokingly rolling your eyes, though your cheeks warm up at his words. “cheesy.”

“honest.” he counters, and the sincerity in his tone makes your heart flutter. he leans in closer, giving you a small peck and ruffling your hair.

the hours slip by as the two of you lose yourselves in the beauty of the beach. you chase each other across the sand, your laughter mingling with the sound of the waves. at one point, taehyun dares you to go into the water despite the chill.

“come on.” he says, already ankle-deep in the waves. he grins and beckons you with his finger to come closer. “it’s not that cold..!”

you cross your arms, skeptical. you're a bit cold now, even in your sweater, how come the water isn't cold? “says the guy who always complains about freezing practice rooms but walks into cold water..”

he smirks, stepping closer. he splashes some water on his face, running a hand through his now-wet hair. “what’s life without a little adventure?”

before you can protest and enjoy the view, he splashes you lightly, the cold droplets making you squeal.

“oh no, you don’t do that to me without any consequence!” you shout, running after him as he quickly tries to run away into deeper water.

the chase turns into a splash war, both of you soaked and breathless by the end of it. when you finally retreat to the shore, taehyun spreads out a blanket from the picnic bag and motions for you to sit.

“truce?” he asks, holding up his hands in mock surrender, enjoying the way your body looks in the soaked clothes as he looks at you again.

“truce.” you agree, laughing as you sit beside him. you rest your head against his shoulder , playing with his hair.

the two of you share snacks from the bag, the sun dipping lower on the horizon as the day stretches into the evening. taehyun feeds you a piece of a tangerine, his eyes crinkling with delight when you nod in approval.

“it’s really sweet!” you say, savoring the flavor of the fresh fruit on your tongue.

“but it's not as tasty as you.” he replies, leaning closer. His tone is light, but there’s a glint of mischief in his eyes that makes your breath hitch and thighs close.

as the sun sets, the sky turns into a masterpiece of colors—fiery oranges blending into soft pinks and purples. taehyun takes out his phone to capture the moment, but instead of focusing on the sunset, he turns the camera toward you.

“hey!” you protest, trying to cover your face. you giggle softly, trying to leave the frame.

“too late!” he says, laughing as he snaps the picture. he looks at the finished product and licks his lips. “you look perfect.”

you pout, though you can’t hide your smile. you try to glance at the picture, cheeks slightly flushed. “you’re impossible..”

“and you’re beautiful.” he says, his voice than softer usual. his words are sincere, just like always, but the scenery makes it way more romantic.

the sincerity in his words makes your chest tighten. you look at him, his face illuminated by the fading sunlight, and wonder how someone could make you feel so special.

when you return to the hotel later that night, the warmth of the day lingers in your heart. taehyun sets the picnic bag aside and stretches, his shirt riding up slightly to reveal a sliver of toned skin. you try not to stare, but he catches your gaze and smirks.

“like what you see?” he teases, lifting his shirt up so you can see more, flexing his muscles confidently.

“maybe.” you reply, trying to play it cool. you gulp and look down to his abs, feeling your panties slowly dampen.

he laughs, pulling you into a loose hug, patting your butt slowly. “i like what i see too.”

you rest your head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. it’s a simple moment, but it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

“let’s just lay down and get comfortable, hmm?” he says after a while.

you nod, and soon the two of you are lounging on the hotel bed. the tv plays a random movie in the background, but neither of you is paying much attention to it.

the dim glow of the bedside lamps casts a soft warmth over the room. his arms encircle you, your head resting on his chest, and the steady rise and fall of his breathing is both comforting and intoxicating. his hand moves absentmindedly, tracing gentle circles on your back, and the sensation sends a subtle shiver through your body.

“are you cold?” he asks, his voice soft and deep, laced with concern. he knows that it might be his touch that made you react like that, but still wants to hear your words.

you shake your head, looking up at him with a small smile, trying to not giggle. “not at all.”

his gaze meets yours, and something in his expression shifts. the playfulness that usually lights his eyes is replaced by something deeper, more intense. his fingers still on your back, and you can feel the weight of the moment settling between you, like a secret only the two of you share.

“good..” he says quietly, his hand sliding up to cup your breast. “because i never want you to feel anything less than perfect when you’re with me.”

the sincerity in his voice makes your breath catch. or maybe it's his touch? you're not sure now.. he leans in slowly, your foreheads touching. when your lips finally meet, it’s like everything else fades away.

the kiss starts soft, his lips moving gently against yours, but it doesn’t take long for the intensity to build. his hand tangles in your hair, tilting your head slightly to deepen the kiss. your fingers grip the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, and he responds by rolling slightly onto his side, his body pressing against yours.

you feel the warmth of his palm as it slides down your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. his touch is both firm and gentle, as though he’s savoring every second, every inch of you.

when you pull back for air, his forehead rests against yours again, and his breath comes in soft, uneven puffs.

“you’re going to be the death of me..” he murmurs, his voice rough with affection and desire.

you laugh softly, your fingers brushing against his jawline. “i could say the same about you..”

he grins, his dimple appearing for a brief moment before his expression turns serious again. “come here.” he says, pulling you fully into his arms.

you shift so that you’re straddling him, your legs on either side of his hips. his hands settle on your waist, steadying you, and the heat of his touch seeps through the thin fabric of your sweater. his gaze roams your face, as though he’s memorizing every detail.

“you’re so beautiful..” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. he grazes his lips against your jawline.

you feel a blush rise to your cheeks, but before you can respond, he pulls you down into another kiss. this one is hungrier, more desperate, as though he’s pouring all of his unspoken feelings into it.

his hands slide up your back, slipping beneath the hem of your sweater to rest against your bare and warm skin. the sensation sends a jolt through you, and he pauses for a moment, searching your eyes for permission. when you nod, his touch becomes bolder, his fingers exploring the curve of your spine.

“mmm, taehyun..” you whisper, his name slipping from your lips like a prayer, lightly grinding against him.

he groans softly, the sound low and throaty, and it sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. his lips trail from your mouth to your jaw again, then down to the sensitive spot just below your ear. each kiss feels like a promise, and the warmth of his breath against your skin makes your heart race.

he shifts beneath you, sitting up slightly so that your bodies are pressed even closer together. one of his hands cups the back of your head, guiding you into another searing kiss, while the other rests on your thigh, his thumb brushing slow circles against your skin.

“you have no idea what you do to me..” he murmurs against your lips, his voice thick with emotion.

the vulnerability and want in his tone makes your chest tighten, and you pull back just enough to look into his eyes. they’re dark and filled with a raw intensity that takes your breath away.

“i think i do.” you say softly, your hands framing his face as you feel his boner press against you. you press down on him, your wet panties brushing against the rough material of his shorts.

his lips curve into a small, almost shy smile, and for a moment, the tension eases. but then his gaze drops to your lips again, and the fire reignites.

the two of you lose yourselves in each other, the rest of the world fading away. his kisses grow deeper, his hands more daring, and every touch feels like a declaration of how much he wants you, how much he cares.

he slowly lifts up your skirt, one of his hands reaching down to rub your clit as you moan against his lips, unintentionally moving your hips as he slowly pulls away from the kiss.

“is my princess so needy already, huh? you want me to help you, don't you?” he slowly lifts you up, unbuttoning his shirt in a teasingly slow manner.

you bite your lip and nod, staring intently at his every move. the veins that decorate his hands, the slight silver of his abs make you even needier.

“taehyun, don't tease..!” you whine quietly, eager hands traveling down to his pants as you quickly unbutton them, opening the fly and pulling them down.

he smirks at your actions, taking his shirt off and putting his hands on your hips again, starting to grind you against him. “don't worry, i will help you.. you're so greedy that you couldn't even wait..”

you let out a moan, trying to speed up his movements, the fabric of your thin sweater falling down your shoulder. your soaked panties wet his boxers, making you feel all the veins on his cock as your eyes roll to the back of your head at the intense pleasure.

“did i tell you that you can move on your own? don't forget your rules, pretty..” he pulls your panties to the side with his middle finger, rubbing against your wet folds as he slides his boxers down.

you close your eyes, quickly positioning his cock at your entrance, looking into his eyes with a pleading look. “please, can i..?”

he bites his lip, nodding his head. he helps you slide down, his voice croaking when he feels your warm and wet walls swallow him. he pulls up your sweater, hands finding your hardened nipples in seconds.

the feeling makes you whimper softly, starting to slowly bounce up and down, breath hitching with every brush of his tip against your cervix. “a-ah, taehyun..!”

he pinches your right nipple, attaching his lips to the other one as he starts sucking, his own eyes closing. he feels his ego raise up knowing that he is the one to make you so bothered.

you pick up the rate of your movements, breasts bouncing against taehyun's face as you let out a soft moan every second, almost forgetting that you're not alone in this hotel.

his thrusts meet your movements as he pulls his mouth away from your chest, connected to your nipple with his saliva. “fuck, you're making me feel so good..” he lets out a low and breathy moan, pulling your head to him and kissing you.

you feel the knot tighten in your tummy embarrassingly fast, desperate to reach your climax as you kiss him desperately, tongues and teeth clashing together.

you both moan and grunt into eachother’s mouth, taehyun bites down on your bottom lip, enjoying the reaction he gets from you.

if your eyes were open, they would be definitely rolled to the back of your head, your brain turning into mush. all you can focus on is taehyun's fat cock hitting all your sweet spots deliciously.

he pulls away from the kiss, his head thrown back as it hits the headrest. his jaw drops lightly, his mouth open in a ‘o’ shape. “god, i'm so fucking close princess.. think you can take it? me filling you up s-so nicely?”

you nod your head, already dumb on his cock, mouth going dry as you close your eyes, letting out a low cry. “p-please, need it s-so much! g-give it to me, pleasepleaseplease!”

he flips you over suddenly, pounding into you so fast that you might start seeing starts. he nips at your neck, leaving small love bites in his way. “fuck, you're such a dumb cockslut..” your hand tries to reach his and he immediately holds it, connecting your hands. “shhh, yeah, i know, i know..”

you start to squirm under him, glistening out eyes looking up into his own dark ones. you feel more tears well up in your eyes, gripping onto his hand and shoulder as you reach your peak with a loud scream of his name. your shaking legs wrap around his waist, heels digging into his back.

he grits his teeth, thrusting one more time as his own climax hits him hard, painting your inside white. his shaft throbs inside you breathing heavily and gasping. he stays like that for a few seconds, then starts to slowly move again.

you whine, feeling too sensitive now as your hands reach out to him. you let out a squeal with each thrust, your back arching almost uncomfortably. “n-no, too much tyunnie!”

he chuckles, wiping the sweat off of his forehead as he stops his movements, falling on top of you. “don't worry, i was just teasing you.. you look so pretty now, you know?”

he slowly pulls out, his eyes darken for a second as he looks at the creamy mess gushing out from your hole. he licks his lips, pushing it back inside you with his finger.

you close your eyes, wrapping your arms around him as you hug him. he licks his fingers and returns your embrace, closing his eyes.

“baby, i want to sleep now.. goodnight..” you mumble quietly, already starting to doze off. taehyun smiles softly, looking at your peaceful expression.

he waits until you fully fall asleep and gets up, grabbing a wet cloth as he cleans up the two of you, laying down on the bed again. he turns the lights off, relaxing in your comfortable presence.

the night goes on as you two rest mindlessy, not knowing about the noise complains you will receive in the morning from the other residents. but it doesn't care now, as long as taehyun has you wrapped around him and you enjoy his warmth everything is good.

@beomiracles here you gooooo :33

[n0vazsq]

Prank Wars | CS55 x Reader

pairing . . . carlos sainz x gf!reader

summary . . . In the midst of your prank war with Carlos, you notice that your favourite handbag has gone missing

request . . . no!

word count . . . 813

warnings . . . none!

faceclaim . . . N/A

alexavia yaps . . . got this idea in the car and HAD to write it!! hope you guys enjoy <33

. . . The sun was beginning to dip, painting the poolside in hues of gold and orange as you strolled back from the coffee shop. Your favourite drink in hand, you felt the familiar dread of the ongoing prank war you and Carlos had been engrossed in. You’d only stepped away for twenty minutes tops to grab your drink and take a break from the relentless back and forth of your pranks. But as you returned to your lounge chair, a sinking feeling set in.

Your towel was still neatly folded on the chair, your shoes exactly where you’d left them. But your handbag, the one you adored, the one that had survived countless trips, spills, and memories, was gone.

You glanced around, your mind immediately jumping to the prime suspect.

"Carlos!" you shouted, spinning in a slow circle to catch sight of him. Nothing.

Your suspicion only deepened when you remembered the way he’d been acting earlier: too innocent, too calm. That man had 'up to something' written all over him, and now your favorite bag had mysteriously disappeared.

Marching toward the house, you pushed open the sliding door. "Carlos!"

"In here!" His voice spoke from the courtyard, overly casual, overly cheerful.

You rounded the corner and found him leaning against the counter, scrolling through his phone like he didn’t have a care in the world. When he glanced up at you, his expression was so innocent it was downright incriminating.

"Hey, hermosa," he greeted cheerfully. "You look a little tense. Everything okay?"

"Don’t you dare," you warned, pointing a finger at him. “Where is it?”

"Where’s what?" he asked, his voice dripping with fakke confusion.

"My bag, Carlos. My favorite bag. Don’t play dumb, you’re bad at it."

He shrugged, the faintest smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I have no idea what you’re talking about. Did you lose it?"

You stared at him, eyes narrowing. "You are the worst liar I’ve ever met."

He shrugged again, his smirk growing wider, and you spun on your heels, storming back toward the pool area. If he wasn’t going to confess, you’d find the evidence yourself.

As you scanned the area, something caught your eye. Floating peacefully in the pool, bobbing along the gentle waves, was your handbag.

"Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me," you muttered under your breath, your blood starting to boil.

"Carlos!" you yelled, turning to face him. He had followed you outside, and the second your eyes met, he burst into laughter.

"Okay, okay, listen to me!" he said between fits of laughter, holding up his hands in surrender.

"Carlos Sainz," you said through gritted teeth, "if you think this is funny-"

"It’s not like that, hermosa! I swear!" He stepped closer, his grin still plastered across his face. "Just wait a second, okay?"

You crossed your arms, glaring at him. He jogged over to a lounge chair on the other side of the pool and picked up a beautiful shopping bag with an unmistakable designer logo.

"What is that?" you asked suspiciously as he approached you.

"Well," he started, looking a little shy as he handed you the bag, "I thought your handbag was looking a little… tired, and a bit old. So, I got you a new one."

You blinked, staring at him and then at the shopping bag in your hands. Pulling out the tissue paper, your jaw dropped as you revealed the stunning, elegant handbag inside. The very one you’d been eyeing for months but never had the heart to buy. Or never had the heart to replace your old bag with.

"Carlos…" Your voice softened, the annoyance melting away.

"Do you like it?" he asked, his grin turning a bit sheepish.

You glanced back at the pool, where your old bag was still floating like some abandoned pool float, and then back at him. "Carlos, you dunked my bag in the pool!"

"I’ll take it out!" he promised quickly, holding his hands up again. "But come on, admit it, you love this one."

You bit back a smile, running your fingers over the expensive leather of the new bag. As much as you hated to admit it, he was right. It was perfect.

"You’re lucky you’re hot," you muttered, shaking your head.

He laughed, stepping closer and wrapping his arms around you. "You know, hermosa, if this is how I win the prank war, I think I deserve bonus points."

You shoved him lightly, but your grin betrayed you. "This isn’t over, Carlos."

"Not until I get your bag out of the pool," he teased, kissing your lips gently.

And as you stood there, new handbag in hand and his arms wrapped around you, you realized that no matter how ridiculous his pranks got, you’d always let him win in the end.

How couldn't you when he made all your dreams come true?

[pickingupmymercedes]

Warm enough - Lewis Hamilton NSFW

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Reader!

warnings: unprotected sexual activities.

Wrap it before you tap it guys

wordcount: +3K

a/n: The first draft to this sfw blurb, only this is 3k of pure smut.

As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!

EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT

______________________________________________________________

The sun had just started to set when Lewis and Y/n arrived at the tiny cabin nestled in the heart of the Colorado forest.

The hike up there had been a rather long but peaceful afternoon, just the sounds of nature and their occasional laughter as they went through the paths.

They were greeted by the rustic charm of the wooden structure. It was small, really small, but cozy and exactly what they needed for their night away from the relentless scrutiny of their daily lives.

Lewis carried their backpacks inside while Y/n stood in the doorway, taking in the simplicity of their temporary home. The interior was open, with no walls, whatsoever, separating the different spaces. Kitchen, living area, and bedroom all flowed into one another, and in a corner, a showerhead jutted out from the wall, pointing what was supposed to be the bathroom.

Y/n's eyes widened as she took in the lack of privacy. "Lewis" she called out, her voice tinged with a mix of amusement and annoyance "did you know there were no doors in this place?"

Lewis, setting their bags down near the sofa, turned to her with a sheepish grin. "I might have known" he admitted with a smirk, scratching the back of his head. "I thought it could be romantic? "

Y/n sighed, shaking her head. "Yeah…except if we want to, the idea of getting cold for a few droplets of water isn't exactly the most appealing."

Lewis came closer to Y/n and pulled her by the waits, his eyes litting up as he gazed at her amused features. "Why don't we light up the fireplace? It'll warm up the whole place, and then we can shower without freezing."

Y/n shook her head and chuckled at him. "You had this planned all along, didn’t you?!" to which he gave her a peck on the lips before heading to the stack of logs on the corner.

Within minutes, Lewis had a fire crackling in the stone hearth, the warmth slowly spreading throughout the room. The glow from the flames casting a soft, amber light, giving the place a real fairytale atmosphere.

Y/n stood near the shower, testing the water with her hand. "It’s warm enough" she mocked as she turned to face Lewis, who was now sitting on the worn leather sofa, his eyes following her every move.

She began to undress, closing her eyes and knowing full well the soft light from the fire highlighted the curves of her body. Her every move casting long shadow to the walls.

She stripped down to her sports bra and panties, feeling the warmth of the room against her skin. When she looked up and glanced over at Lewis his eyes were dark with desire, a telltale tent in his pants.

A playful smirk tugged at the corners of her lips. "Enjoying the view, baby?" she teased, slowly walking towards him.

Lewis swallowed hard, his eyes never leaving her. "You have no idea" he replied, his voice a low growl.

Y/n stopped just by his opened legs, her presence commanding his stare.

Lewis's hand instinctively found the curves of her body, his fingers tracing the lines of her hips. She cradled his face in her hands and leaned down to kiss him, their lips meeting slowly, his tongue asking for permission.

As the kiss deepened, Lewis's hands roamed over her body, finding her bum and squeezing gently before attaching his finger to the strings of her lingerie and pulling it down.

Y/n broke the kiss, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Someone's getting handsy" she murmured, stepping out of fabric pooled at her feet.

Lewis chuckled, his eyes filled with heat. "Can't help it" he said, his voice husky.

Y/n knelt down in front of him, her fingers teasing the skin of his abs and the fabric of his pants. She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I could get you off through these" she joked, "but I'm pretty sure you didn’t bring anymore pants"

Lewis laughed, the sound deep and rich, but still lifted his hips to remove his pants and boxers in one swift motion. His semi-hard length springing free, hitting his abs.

Y/n's breath hitched at the sight, the engorged tip, the bulging veins, the girth on its length, how it twitched when she breathed near the skin and how his balls hanged just enough to make it deliciously desirable. The scene always had the same effect on her.

She leaned forward, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. "Ready, big guy?" she murmured, her hands moving to grasp his length gently. She stroked him slowly, her fingers dancing along his skin as he murmured his response with a nod.

Lewis groaned, his head falling back against the sofa. The sensation of her touch making him barely strong enough to contain himself. Y/n’s touch teasing and almost not enough.

She took her time, enjoying the way his body responded to her.

"Y/n" Lewis breathed; his voice strained with need. "Babe, please..."

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with desire and mischief. "Please what?" she teased, her fingers still moving in slow, deliberate strokes that would go from the base to the tip of his length, her hands not closing around his girth now he was fully hard.

One of Lewis's hands clenched at her arm, his body almost trembling. "Please, don't tease" he begged, his voice barely a whisper.

Y/n's smile widened, and she leaned in, her lips brushing against the sensitive skin of his tip. "As you wish" she murmured, taking him into her mouth.

The heat of her mouth was almost too much to bear, and Lewis's hands found their way to her hair, his fingers tangling to find her roots. He guided her movements, his body shuddering the stroke of her tongue and the gentle suction of her lips.

Y/n moved slowly, each motion deliberately thought to drive him wild.

She took him deeper, her mouth working him with a rhythm that made him whimper. Lewis's moans filled the cabin, mingling with the crackling of the fire and the soft sounds of the forest outside.

He was close, so close, and he could feel the tension building in his body. "Babe" he gasped; his tone almost desperate. "I'm going to..."

She pulled back slightly, her hand replacing her mouth as she speeded the strokes. "Let go, Lew" she whispered, batting her eyelids as she looked up at him trying to regain a bit of control.

With a final, shuddering breath, Lewis's body tensed, and he spilled over her hand, his release overwhelming. Y/n continued her movements, milking every last drop from his body as he trembled beneath her touch.

When he finally looked back down, his eyes were filled with a soft longing. "What the hell do I do with you?!" he murmured; his voice hoarse.

Y/n smiled up at him, her hand gently massaging his balls now. "Anything you want" she replied, her tone playful. As she pulled away, her hand glistening from him, she gave him a playful wink. "I think it's time for that shower now" she said, glancing towards the open showerhead in the corner.

Lewis reached out, his strong hands wrapping around her waist to pull her back to him. His voice dropped to a husky whisper, "Not quite yet, miss. We still need to get that pussy wet before cleaning it up."

Before she could protest, Lewis lifted her effortlessly and carried her to the bed, the old springs creaking under their combined weight. He had laid her down gently, his eyes dark as he positioned himself between her legs.

Lewis took his time, his hands caressing her thighs before spreading them wide. "You're so beautiful" he murmured; his voice thick with emotion. "I can't get enough of you."

Y/n responded with a soft moan, her back arching slightly as his mouth descended on her leaving a trail of wet kisses behind.

The first touch of his tongue against her folds made her tremble. Lewis's hands gripped her thighs, holding her in place as he expertly teased her further.

"God, that feels so good." she gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair as he licked and sucked at her most sensitive spots.

Lewis hummed in response, the vibrations adding a sensation that had her writhing beneath him. He alternated between gentle licks and firmer sucks, his tongue dancing over her clit in circular moves. Y/n's moans grew louder, her hips bucking against his face.

"Please" she begged, her voice trembling with need. "Don't stop, Lewis."

He smirked as he kept his mouth working her relentlessly, his fingers finally joining in to tease her entrance. With a final suck on her clit, Y/n's body tensed and she cried out, her first orgasm washing over her as Lewis tried to hold her body in place.

Lewis soothed her skin with kisses on her inner thigh, and when she laid back down with a sigh, he began kissing his way back up her body, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. "Ready, babe?" he asked, his voice low and filled with promise.

Y/n nodded; her eyes glazed with lust. "Yeah" she breathed, still trying to process the weight of his dick resting on her thighs.

Lewis positioned himself at her entrance, the head of his cock nudging against her wetness. "Look at me," he commanded softly. Y/n's eyes locked onto his, the feather like touch of his finger to her cheek electric.

With a slow, but determined thrust Lewis ripped her, filling her completely. They both groaned, their bodies reacting to a dance they knew all too well. He paused for a moment, savoring the feeling of being inside her, before pulling back and thrusting in again, a bit faster this time, picking up speed as he adjusted his pace.

"You feel amazing" Lewis groaned, his hands gripping her hips as he held his rhythm. "So tight, so perfect."

Y/n's nails dug into his back, her legs wrapping around his waist to pull him deeper. "Right there" she gasped, her voice a mix of pleasure and desperation as he angled his thrusts so he knew he had her writhing. "Lew…don't stop."

He didn't. His thrusts grew more powerful, each one hitting a different spot to drive her wild. The sound of their bodies coming together filled the cabin, building on the symphony of their moans and the crackling of the fire.

Lewis leaned down, capturing her lips in a searing kiss as he continued to pound into her. "You drive me crazy, love" he murmured against her mouth.

"Yeah?! Then, show me" Y/n teased back, her voice a breathless whisper as he locked his eyes on hers, his arms coming to either of her sides to help him balance himself as he picked up speed and concentrated his thrust to an angle that always drove her wild.

Lewis's hands roamed over her body, his touch both possessive and tender. He could feel her tightening around him, her moans becoming more urgent, each thrust pushing Y/n closer to her second orgasm.

"That's it, baby" Lewis encouraged, his own voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release. "Come for me."

Even if his pounding didn’t stop, Y/n's body convulsed around him, her walls fluttering and her high ripping through her with even more intensity than the first time. She cried out his name in his ears, her nails raking down his back as he held her tight to allow him to prolong the orgasm with his thrusts.

"One more," he growled, his eyes locked on hers when she could finally focus back on his face, inches from her "Give me one more, baby." He kept thrusting; his pace relentless as he chased his own release.

Y/n could barely think at this point, her nods the only coherent things coming from her. Her body was on fire, her hands gripping his shoulders as she braced herself for the lasts, and often harder, of his movements.

Lewis's thrusts became frenzied, his breathing ragged as he pushed them both to the brink. "Y/n..." he groaned, his voice breaking as he tried to retain some control over his angles.

With a swift motion, Lewis pulled out and repositioned himself, gently turning her onto her side, closing her legs while lifting one just enough to give him better access as he aligned himself behind her.

The new angle made her gasp as he entered her again, his thrusts way deeper now.

"Better like this?" he asked, his voice a low growl in her ear.

"Yeah" she breathed, her body contorting on the bed. "Just like that."

Lewis's hands gripped her hips, his thrusts steady as he drove into her. Y/n's moans grew louder with each thrust. She could feel another orgasm building, her control over her body already faltering away.

"This pussy is so perfect for me" Lewis groaned, his lips brushing against her ear.

"Lew" she whimpered, her hands gripping the sheets as she felt herself nearing the edge again.

"I want to feel you again." he whispered; his voice filled with urgency.

Y/n's body tensed but this time she couldn’t even let out a sound, her third orgasm hitting her so much stronger than the last two. This time Lewis stopped and held still, really feeling her walls gripping him harder than they’d normally do. He watched her, mesmerized by the sight of her coming undone beneath him, not even able to moan.

She eventually reached for Lewis's hand, her fingers intertwining with his, eyes still shut tight as she pulled him closer and begged "Fill me" her voice a blend of urgency and tenderness.

He repositioned both of them again, standing up fully beside the bed and pulling her with him. The new position allowing him to control better his thrusts, hammering into her in slow and powerful movements.

Her body was completely open and vulnerable to him. Her moans mingled with the sound of his breathing faltering. She could feel him getting closer, his grip on her hips tightening as he neared his release.

"Hey" she urged him to look at her, her hands gripping at his on her waist for support. "Don’t hold back. Let it go"

After a couple angled thrusts, that had her fight for air, Lewis let out a guttural groan, his release crashing over him as he spilled inside her. He held her tightly, their bodies trembling together as kept slowly pumping into her for a few more seconds.

When the last tremors of his orgasm subsided, he collapsed onto her body. Lewis pressed a gentle kiss to Y/n's forehead, his arms wrapping around her in a protective embrace. "I love you" he whispered; his voice filled with sincerity.

"I love you " Y/n replied, her voice soft as she lovingly held his stare before he laid his head on her chest and she circled his scalp with the tip of her nails.

After a few moments, Lewis looked back up at her, a tired but satisfied smile. "I think now we can have that shower."

Y/n chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, it’s definitely warm enough now"

As they dried off and wrapped themselves in their soft sweats, they settled back on the sofa, the fire still providing a gentle glow, although not nearly as strong as before. Y/N, nestled against Lewis’s chest let out a contented sigh.

Forty-eight hours of no phones, no internet, no outside world distractions – it had been a strange, yet surprisingly liberating, experience so far.

"Can you believe it?" she said, her voice barely a whisper. "It feels like an eternity since we've had time like this."

Lewis, his chin resting on her head, chuckled softly. "Agreed. Just… us."

Y/N hummed in agreement, shifting slightly to get a better view of the dying flames. "Although I wish I had my phone to get a picture of that elk herd, did you notice? And that waterfall we stumbled upon? It was like something out of a painting."

She launched into a detailed description of their day's hike, pointing out landmarks on the mental map she'd constructed in her head. Lewis listened patiently, a smile playing on his lips.

She’d always get talkative after sex. Her pillow talks some of his favorites moments.

He knew most of the details already – they'd spent the entire day together, after all – but it was the way her eyes lit up while she recounted the adventure that captivated him that night.

As she spoke, Lewis noticed her hands tucked away under her arms, a telltale sign she was starting to feel cold. He reached out, intertwining their fingers without saying a thing.

Suddenly, an ear-splitting hoot shattered the peaceful silence. Y/N flinched, her eyes widening comically.

"Can you hear the owls?" she whispered; her voice tinged with a hint of fear.

Lewis chuckled again, the sound warm and reassuring. "Yeah, but I'm more interested in the sound of your voice" he teased, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

His words sent a blush creeping up Y/N's cheeks. She opened her mouth to retort, but a loud, guttural hoot from outside the cabin cut her off. Y/N flinched, a startled squeak escaping her lips.

Lewis chuckled again, the sound warm and reassuring. "Scared you there, did it?"

Y/N covered her face with her free hand, a sheepish grin peeking through. "A bit. That… that sounded like a pterodactyl!"

Lewis reached out and pulled her hand away from her face, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Pterodactyls? Really, Y/N?"

She shrugged, a playful smile on her lips. "Hey, I don't know what they sound like!"

He pulled her body closer, his warmth embracing her. "It's okay," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. "They're just owls. They're more interested in catching mice than snacking on hikers."

Y/N sighed contentedly, her eyelids growing heavy the warmer she got.

As her voice trailed off into a comfortable silence, Lewis noticed her breathing slow and even. He looked down to see her fast asleep, her head resting peacefully on his chest. Without a second thought, he tucked both her hands and his into her sweater, enveloping them in warmth.

Lewis couldn't help but smile as he marveled at how quickly she'd adapted to the digital detox he had suggested merely a month prior. Her voice replacing the endless stream of notifications that usually dominated their lives.

He traced a gentle finger along her cheek, enjoying the soft texture of her skin as he took in the moment. Her figure completely at ease as she used him as her personal pillow and warmer, the fireplace to their cabin a reminder they didn’t need much when they got each other.

"See" he whispered, more to himself than to her. "Told you we’d have a good time up here."

He leaned in, his lips brushing the top of her head. "Thank you," he whispered, the words meant for both the owls and the woman who had stolen his heart. They weren't just words of gratitude for the weekend though; they were a heartfelt confession for the way she grounded him, for the way she brought a sense of serenity into his otherwise chaotic world.

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TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28

@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld

@fearfam69691 @cmleitora @goldenroutledge @timmychalametsstuff @jpgnsf @priopp123

If you’d like to be added to my taglist you can leave a comment or send me a dm/ask.

[enha-stars]

✧ let me take care of you

pairing: soft!heeseung x reader (fluff, smut)

summary: you have a bad day and all heeseung wants is to take care of you, and well, you let him

warnings: crying, minor angst if you squint, swearing, fingering (f), kissing, sex, mdni

you gripped your keys, staring at the front door of your apartment. you don’t really remember how you got home or the elevator ride up to your home but none of that mattered. you were finally home and exhausted.

you were having a bad day. a really, really bad day. everything had been going wrong the moment you entered the office in the morning and you had enough. you had cried before leaving and were on the verge of tears now.

quietly, you inserted the key in the lock and turned, that small satisfying click was music to your ears. slowly, you pushed open the door and made your way inside, dropping your bag at the door. you sighed in relief and kicked off your shoes.

your body ached and your head throbbed, and you wanted to burn the clothes you were wearing. someone had spilled warm coffee all over your lap and you didn’t have any extra clothes so you had spent the whole day in sticky, coffee stained pants.

silently, you shuffled to the sofa and sank down. you just sat there, your back pressed into the soft back as you stared at the wall. you were so tired, so exhausted. you wanted to call out to your boyfriend, knowing he was most likely in your joined bedroom but your lips wobbled so you said nothing.

heeseung stopped typing when he heard the front door open and shut his laptop at the silence that followed. he got off the bed, throwing his laptop on the table as he made his way to the family room. you should be home by now.

heeseung paused at the entrance, staring at your unmoving body. his eyebrows furrowed as he assessed the situation. he glanced at the door and found your bag and shoes discarded on the side. he glanced back at you; at your tear-stained face and dark under eyes and he knew.

sighing, heeseung walked to you. he hated it when you had a bad day. “love, you’re home.” his heart broke when you simply looked up at him, eyes wide with unshed tears. he dropped to his knees in front of you, a frown on his lips. he rested his hands on your thighs and pressed his chest against your knees.

“tough day, baby?” his frown deepened when you nodded. you weren’t often like this. usually, when you had bad days, you were quiet and slightly angry. but heeseung knew it must have been a very bad day if you couldn’t even speak about it.

heeseung nodded and stood up. without saying anything, he slipped an arm under your knees and behind your back and lifted you up, deciding that you’d be more comfortable in your bed. you shut your eyes as you pressed your face into his neck.

all you wanted was heeseung to lay with you; to hold you until you couldn’t remember today.

heeseung mumbled sweet nothings to you as he walked down the hall and gently kicked the bedroom door open. he sat you down on the bed and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “i got you, baby.” you blinked up at him as he brushed your hair from your face. you watched as he walked to the bathroom and filled the tumb with warm water before grabbing one of his bigger shirts from his drawer and walking over to you.

he tapped your thigh and you spread your legs, letting him stand in between them. with gentle, soft hands, he took out your claw clip and massaged your head before setting the clip on top of his laptop. then, he began unbuttoning your blouse. eyes focused solely on the buttons. once he slipped the shirt off your shoulders, he unclasped your bra. he didn’t pay attention to how your nipples perked up in the cold air.

he stepped back and unbuttoned your pants. you winced when he pulled them down, the fabric rubbing against your burn. heeseung eyes widened at your painful gasp and he dropped his gaze to the redness on your thighs.

immediately, he dropped to his knees, his face hovering near the burn as his fingers twitched at your sides. “baby, what is this?” he glanced up at you, eyes filled with concern. “what happened?”

you looked down at the burn, wishing you had done something at the time to prevent the redness. “someone spilled their coffee all over my lap.” your voice was quiet, hoarse. your eyes connected with heeseung’s wide ones and you bit your bottom lip, trying not to cry.

heeseung’s heart broke even further as he frowned. he was angry, angry at the fucker who spilled their coffee on you but he was more concerned about your pain. he pressed a soft kiss to your knee before he linked his thumbs in the waistband of your underwear and pulled down, careful to raise the fabric so it wouldn’t brush against your skin.

once you were naked, heeseung stood and picked you up once again, taking you to the bathroom. part of you wanted to be embarrassed. you wanted to be able to walk on your own, to use your words, but a bigger, tired part of you just wanted to be taken care of like this.

heeseung sat down on the edge of the tub, holding you in his lap as he touched the water. he poured some of your favourite scented soap in the water before gently putting you in the water. you winced when the warm water touched your burns but soon sighed in relief. your head fell back as your muscles relaxed in the water, having been tense the whole day.

heeseung sat at the ledge, watching you with nothing but fondness in his eyes. you opened your eyes and looked back at him, smiling at him for the first time since you’ve been home. you wanted to ask him to join you but he was quicker. he quickly took off his pajama bottoms, leaving him in his boxers.

“lift your head, baby.” you lifted your head and moved your body as he stepped into the tub and sat at the ledge where you had been resting your head.

now, heeseung was sitting outside of the tub and you sat in between his legs, inside the tub. you laid your head back into his lap and sighed at the closeness. you closed your eyes and heeseung cupped water in his hands and wet your hair. you only opened them when he began to gently massage your head with soap.

unconsciously, heeseung began humming as he shampooed your hair. you focused on his soft voice, unable to control the tears that escaped your eyes.

once heeseung was done combing his fingers through your hair, he filled the bucket next to him with warm water and rinsed your hair, scrubbing all the soap out. he didn’t notice your tears, his own humming drowning out your rapid breathing.

once your hair had been rinsed, he laid your head on his lap and frowned at your pout. gently, he swiped his thumb under your eyes and pursed his lips at the tears. as much as he wanted to distract you from crying, he knew you needed this. so, as you cry, he massages your shoulders and neck. his hands working at the knots in your muscles, hating how tense they are.

after a few minutes, your body runs out of tears and you focus on heeseung’s hands. they’re soft yet firm as they press down on your skin. you let out a quiet moan when he pressed down on the space between your neck and shoulder and he smiles, glad to release some of your tension.

heeseung wiggles his toes in the water when the water cools down, no longer a comfortable temperature. he gently lifts your head as he steps out of the tub, grabbing two towels. without him asking, you slowly stand up. he smiles at you as he offers you his hand. you grab it and step out of the tub, right onto the grey mat.

although heeseung knows you’re fully capable of it, he uses the towel to dry your body. he dries your arms before traveling down your body, gently patting your thighs before rubbing down your shins. at the sight, you can feel warmth spread through your core. then, he wraps your body in the towel. he grabs the other towel and dries your hair before wrapping your hair in the towel.

you smile at him and he beams down at you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. you reach over and hand him another towel and his smile turns bashful as you watch him dry his legs. heeseung grabs your hand and motions you out of the bedroom. you follow him and sit on the bed, watching as he takes off his underwear. at the sight of his cock, your mouth waters. you press your thighs together, ignoring the slight pain. heeseung doesn’t notice as he pulls his pajama bottoms back on.

you watch him with dark eyes as he walks to you. he unwraps the towel from your hair, massaging your scalp with it a few times before laying it beside you.

“lift your arms, baby.” you do as he says and he slips his shirt on you, pulling off the towel. he leaves you on the bed as he hangs the towels in the bathroom and puts your clothes in the laundry.

when he’s back, you can only stare at him. your eyes glance at the clock and they widen. “seung,” you whisper. heeseung can’t even explain how good it feels to have you say his name. his heart squeezes in his chest. he steps closer to you. “what about the movie? we should get going.”

you and heeseung were supposed to go out today. a new studio ghibli movie had come out and heeseung had really wanted to see it. although you were in no mood, you would go if he wanted too.

heeseung blinks at you before he cups your face with his hand, his thumb grazing your bottom lip. “fuck the movie, baby. you’re way more important.” you try your best not to let your eyes water at his words. “tell me what i can do. do you want to sleep? or shall i make you something to eat?”

your frown deepens and heeseung wants to kiss you so badly but he just continues pressing down on your bottom lip. “but–” heeseung shakes his head, knowing what you were going to say. you say it anyways. “you really wanted to watch the movie.”

heeseung sighs before he crouches down, matching eye level with you. he uses his other hand to cup the other side of your face before he presses his forehead against yours. “you are more important than some movie, my love. how can i watch a movie when you’re upset?” he kisses your nose. “all i want is to make you feel better. offer you comfort any way i can.”

you shut your eyes at his words, unable to handle the tensity of his gaze; filled with so much love and affection. you nodded once before you opened your eyes. “will you lay with me? i just want you to hold me.”

heeseung smiles before nodding. he stands up and as you crawl further into bed, he pulls off his shirt. he knows that you always prefer laying with him while he’s shirtless because he runs extremely warm. you find comfort in his warmth; skin to skin in a non-intimate way.

heeseung crawls into bed and gathers you in his arms. you lay facing him as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in. you lay one hand flat on his chest while the other is thrown over his waist. his legs tangle with yours and you nuzzle your face into his neck.

he rubs your back soothingly as you breathe him in. “do you wanna talk about it, baby?”

you don’t say anything as you think about it. you didn’t really want to talk about it, but communication was important to both of you. you knew that if you were in heeseung’s position, you would want him to say something.

“i’m just so fucking exhausted, hee.” you mumble against his chest. he kisses your forehead as he listens, wishing he could remove everything unpleasant from your life. “nothing went right today and it was all too much.” his fingers traced small patterns on your back.

“i’m sorry, love,” he whispers. his breath tickles your ears and you sigh into him, clinging. “that sounds awful.” heeseung genuinely meant it. it took a lot to make you upset, being someone who always looked at the positive side of things. he wanted to squeeze all the negativity out of your body, willing to carry it all himself if it meant you would smile up at him.

you nodded as you shut your eyes. this was all you thought about all day; laying in bed with him, his strong arms around you. knowing he would take care of you, even if you didn’t deserve it. you loved him so much.

you and heeseung lay together, your eyes shut as he rubs your back, whispering sweet words of encouragement every now and then. you want to fall asleep, but you can’t. even though you’re exhausted, you can’t seem to drift off.

frustrated, you shift your hips, trying to find a better position and whimper when heeseung’s bulge rubs against your bare pussy. heeseung’s eyes fly open and he tightens his hold on you.

“baby?” he looks down at you and his eyes widen when he stares down at your watery, tired eyes. “what is it, love?”

you rub your pussy against his clothed dick and whimper at the feeling. heeseung watches as you squeeze your eyes close at the feeling and suddenly, he understands. when heeseung has a bad day, nothing makes him feel better than being inside you. he now knows that you’re the same.

he kisses your forehead and cheek before he grabs your chin and makes you look up at him. “do you want me, baby?” he nudges your nose with his. “hm? want me to fill you up?” he should have realized that this is what you wanted. your nails were digging into him, wanting to be as close to him as you could be.

you nodded, eyes wide. heeseung usually liked to tease you, but right now, all he wanted was to make you feel better. nothing was more important than taking care of you. “please,” you say.

heeseung smiles and kisses you, lips pressing against yours messily. as he kisses you, his hand travel down your waist, mindful of your burns. he slips his hand in between your legs, his thumb pressing against your pussy. “fuck, baby,” he whispered against your mouth. “you’re already so wet.” he rubs your pussy with his thumb before pressing down on your clit, swallowing your moan.

he coats his fingers in your slick before slipping a finger in, his rough skin caressing your gummy walls, reaching deep within you. when you moan, heeseung begins kissing your neck, sucking and nibbling. you press your forehead against his neck, sucking on his adam’s apple when he slips another finger in, and then another. the three fingers inside you worked fast, curling and pumping.

heeseung kisses you everywhere he can. he presses open mouth kisses to your neck and chin and then kissed your lips, tongues pressed together. your body began to shake and he knew you were close. you were squeezing around his fingers and he rubbed your clit with his thumb.

“that’s it, love,” he encouraged. he kissed your forehead and then your eyelids. “cum for me. let go, baby.” you moaned out his name as you cummed, nails digging into his back as he made you ride out your orgasm on his fingers.

he whispered quiet praises in your ear, pressing his lips against the side of your head. “such a good girl, that’s it.” once you began panting, he slowly removed his fingers and brought them to his lips.

you watched with blurry eyes as he licked his fingers clean, sucking off all your juices as he stared at you, nothing but love in his eyes. “you did amazing, baby.”

at this, you smiled and heeseung felt like the luckiest man in the world. his own eyes crinkled and he kissed you, ignoring your whimper as you tasted yourself on his tongue.

kissing you hungrily, heeseung used one hand to pull his pajamas down. you felt his tip graze your pussy and you jerked into him, sensitive. he slid himself against your pussy, using your juices to wet his dick.

“i got you, baby.” he whispered into your mouth. he lines himself with your entrance and slowly pushes in, your slick making it easy for him. you silently gasp as he stretches you, welcoming the feeling. heeseung whimpers as your pussy sucks him in and he moans into your neck when he bottoms out.

that’s how you lay for a few minutes; holding each other as his dick fills you up, connecting you both at the most intimate level. you kiss heeseung’s neck, needing more friction. “move, hee. please.”

heeseung nods, eyes squeezed shut as he slowly begins rocking his hips back and forth. you both moan as he fucks you slowly, filling you up just the way you wanted. once he’s fully in you, you squeeze around his dick and he whimpers, eyes opening. you grind on his dick and he can only bite his lip as you use his dick for your own pleasure.

and he lets you. he doesn’t move as you continue to grind on his cock, wanting your pleasure to come first. he holds himself back when you slowly start to move on his dick, knowing that it belonged to you more than it did him.

the sight of you trying to get yourself off on his cock is enough to push him over the edge. he’s sweaty and his eyes are blurry, and he is so in love with you. he hopes you never have a bad day again but if you do, he wants you to use him like this. when you open your eyes and look at him, he can’t help but kiss you.

“please, seungie.” you beg. “make me cum.”

hearing your words, heeseung loses control. he begins rocking his hips back and forth, pulling out completely and then pushing in, deep enough to feel himself in your stomach. you’re whimpering and gasping, and then you’re squeezing around him and he’s unraveling.

“i’m cumming,” you sniffle. “seung, please. i’m–”

heeseung slams into you, fucking you harder. he presses his face against your head as he pants. “cum for me, love.” his cock twitches and when he feels your cum soak his dick, he lets go. he continues fucking you as he cums, unable to stop.

you press yourself further into him, body sweaty and warm as his dick fucks his cum into you. you pull at his hair when you begin to feel overstimulated, but heeseung doesn’t stop. he rocks his hips into you until you’re both on the verge of tears.

once he’s stopped cumming, his muscles relax and he holds you tighter, kissing your forehead. he tries to move but you’ve caged him with your arms and legs. you look up at him and smile so widely he swears he could cum again.

“stay in me, seung. just wanna feel you.”

heeseung presses his lips against yours softly and keeps his dick in you. “whatever you want, princess.” he wanted to clean you up, wipe the stickiness from your legs and put some ointment on your thighs, but he would have to wait. right now, you needed him inside you, beside you.

you slightly adjust yourself and rest your head in his neck as he rests his on your head. he rubs your back, tracing small hearts on your shoulder until he hears your soft snores.

he smiles at you before kissing your forehead, tightening his hold on you before he drifts off to sleep. his cock still in you, keeping you warm and full and happy.

a/n: i love soft hee so much. there isn't enough of him on here. also, this one is for @karinasbaby because she is everything to me and appreicates soft hee as much as i do. also this was meant to be short but i got carried away 🤭

[tojisun]

“shopping for your brother?”

you trip at hearing the question, your lips parting in surprise as you whip to look at the clerk. she blinks at you amidst her own shock before turning her eyes down to your hands where a faux fatigued boonie dangled between your pinched fingers.

you watch as she glances back at you before shooting a look towards simon, having seen the two of you walk in together. he’s standing on the far side of the shop, attracting electric looks from everyone – you couldn’t even blame them because even your mouth is watering at the sight that he makes.

still, the insinuation that you couldn’t possibly be simon’s partner stung. forgotten insecurities are rising once again, rippling against the quiet elation that once filled you up.

“um,” you begin, clearing your throat at hearing your voice brokenly taper off. “it’s for, uh, my boyfriend.”

the clerk stares at you for a second before her cheeks fill up with red, the blush descending from her forehead to her neck.

“bloody hell,” she utters. “i’m so sorry.” she scurries away after that, disappearing into their storage room where you think she’s going to stay until you and simon leave.

and you’re willing to do just that. you drop the boonie and walk towards simon, trying to ignore the bitterness that is stinging in the back of your throat. simon uncrosses his arms – tattoos and muscles obscured by the expanse of paper bags that he insisted he pay and carry for you – and holds his hand out for you to take. you look at it, hesitating, before you shake your head and walk out on your own.

you can’t hear him follow you but you know he is there, quiet in his assessment of both the surroundings and of what happened to make you upset. you blink the tears gathering in the corners of your eyes, trying to hide your distress as much as you can.

but it is futile because the next thing you know, simon’s pulling you away from the busy stretch of the mall and into an obscured exit point with dim lights and narrow halls. he drops the bags onto the floor before tugging on your wrists with firm gentleness.

“what happened?” his voice is gruff but worry is evident in his tone.

“it’s nothing,” you say, sniffing. “just tired.”

he hums, and you know that he doesn’t believe you. you sigh, turning away from him as you mutter, “i dunno why you like me.” you chew on your words, hoping he wouldn’t understand. but you feel him stiffen before you, his back tensing like he is preparing for a fight.

you know he is angry – not at you. never at you. and seeing his protective nature spark up just at the mere mention of your insecurity makes your lips wobble, your eyes blurring as tears pool once again.

you hear him let out a sharp curse before he’s pulling you in his embrace, tucking your head under his chin and engulfing you in his arms. he’s so big and all muscles, but he’s so, so warm. you nuzzle your cheek on his chest, letting out a content sigh when you feel his lips press on the top of your head.

“you know that i love you, don’t you, sweetheart?” simon asks, thinly-veiled desperation curling at his words.

you nod, shy all of sudden. he clicks his tongue.

“use y’r words, love.”

you peer up at him, your pouty lips quivering into a small smile at meeting his intense gaze, his beautiful eyes tracking the details of your face like he can’t get enough of you.

you see simon’s reverence and feel your heart melt.

“yeah,” you finally reply, swiping your tongue on your chapped lips and feeling your cheeks warm up at the way his eyes zeroed in on the action. “i know it well, si.”

he grunts before he is bending forward to press his lips over yours, your eyes fluttering close to savour the kiss. he is gentle as he guides you through it, prompting you to part your lips just enough for him to deepen the kiss – tongues swiping against each other and soft moans being engulfed by both of you.

you are panting by the time he pulls away, his eyes dilated in pleasure. you wonder if you look just as debauched, just as desperate for more.

“wanna take this somewhere else?” simon murmurs, just the sound of his grave voice already making you tremble.

you scramble to say yes, your words lilting together in your excitement. simon chuckles and presses a quick kiss on your lips before he’s picking up the shopping bags and herding the two of you out.

[novemberheart]

{overview} John and Johnny leave……does Simon step up to the plate?

{warnings} fem reader, a/b/o dynamics, poly 141

Chapter 15 <- Chapter 16 -> Chapter 17

You had spent that whole night wrapped around Johnny, squeezing him like an anaconda.

“I’ll miss you a lot Mac,” you mumbled pitfully against his neck. It was time for him and John to leave, the sun not due to come up for another four hours.

“I’ll miss you too, peaches,” he murmured back, his grip on you crushing. “You'll be a good girl while we're away, yes?” He smiled against your head. John cleared his throat and you took the hint to untangle yourself. You kicked your legs a silent request to put you back on the ground. Johnny inhaled your scent, suddenly pressing kisses all over your face making you chuckle.

John held his arms out to you and he quickly lifted you up just like Johnny had done. His lips pressed firmly against your neck, vibrating against you as he spoke.

“We’ll call you when we can. When we can't we’ll make sure Laswell keeps you updated,” he assured.

“Be safe,” you whined, pressing yourself deeper into his shoulder. He held you there for a moment- this being harder than he had imagined.

“We’ll be back soon, pretty girl,” he pressed a kiss against your temple, pulling away to plant another one on your lips. He pulled away rather quickly, but you gripped his face pulling him back. “Now I really have to get back soon,” he chuckled, giving your temple one last peck.

They grabbed their bags by the front door, eyeing the three they were going to leave behind.

“Come on, lovie. Let's get you back to bed.” Kyle yawned, leading you to his room. You paused looking at Johnny's shut door. “We can sleep in there tonight. If you'd like,” Kyle offered softly, opening the door.

“He won't mind?” you asked hesitantly.

“You kidding me? Nothing would be better than comin’ home to a bed smellin’ like you,” Kyle smiled, clicking his tongue.

The next day was easier. You still had Kyle and Simon to rely on. Simon stepped up to double alpha duties, filling in for moments you usually shared with John. You were growing re-fond of Simon very fast. He was a complex creature. Grunting after you say something, only for him to pet the top of your head when he could tell you were in your thoughts too much.

Kate texted you that night.

Hi, love. The boys are fine. They just landed where they needed to be. They’ll try to call you later!

You smiled at the words. You missed them- but you weren't worried about them yet.

The next day was much harder. Knowing Kyle and Simon were leaving the next day.

“Simon?” you began softly. Simon had a mini zen garden in his office- a gag gift from Johnny. You enjoyed it though, making patterns in the sand. He grunted.

“I'm going to miss you while you're away, you know,” you said softly. You didn't expect him to say anything back, but you just had to tell him. The urge sitting under your skin like a ticking time bomb. If you didn't act on it you would throw yourself at him, gripping onto his shirt like your life depended.

“You’ll be fine, pup,” he assured. His voice was tender, making the ache in your chest deepen.

You don’t know if you're cut out for this.

“You’re with us because you’re tough,” He continued. “You’re a part of the pack, you need to act like it.”

You had never been one for tough love. However, when it came from Simon it eased you. Maybe it was his unwavering confidence or the fact that it showed he believed in you.

“Thank you, Simon,” you breathed.

“Remember what we talked about?” Simon questioned, while you clung to Kyle. You pulled your wet face from out under his chin, your bleary eyes staring up at the hulking man.

“Don’t answer the door unless I already have plans with someone. If there is something sketchy going on, hide in your bathroom and call the number on the sticky note on the bathroom mirror,” you repeated. Simon had turned his and John’s bathroom into a panic room in case something were to happen. You weren't sure if the idea soothed you or not. Regardless, it was a loving gesture. One that had the smell of a well-taken-care-of omega drifting off of you. It was quickly overshadowed by your bleak scent.

“And?”

“-and if I have a bad feeling about something I'm probably right,” you finished.

“Good girl.”

A kiss being pressed against the outside of your ear brought you back to the beta you still had your claws in.

“Kyky?” you hummed.

“Yes, lovie?” he hummed back, swaying the two of you back and forth. Simon made no move to rush either of you.

“Can I sleep in your bed while you're away?” you asked quietly. He agreed without missing a beat. It had helped the night Johnny left. A hand rested against Kyle's shoulder.

Time was up.

Kyle detached himself from you. You didn't help him in the process but you didn't keep your grip as tight. He moved to the door, grabbed his bag, and flung it over his shoulder.

“Bye, pup.” Simon sighed, grabbing his own bag off the floor.

“Bye, alpha.” The title didn't leave your lips without your consent. It was a sentiment, something to let Simon know you acknowledge the way he had stepped up for you while John was away. His body froze, a low rumble echoing in his chest. He turned around, his hand resting on the back of your head pulling you against his chest. He gave you one solid squeeze, pulling away before you could fully process or sink into him.

“Be good,” he commanded over his shoulder heading out the door. Kyle snuck one last hug in, before shutting the door behind him.

You were alone.

You couldn't fall asleep, no matter how hard you tried. It wasn't any quieter than it usually was, yet the air was cold. The comfort stripped from it as soon as the door closed behind Kyle. You whined, pulling yourself out of Kyle's bed and making your way to Johnny's. You grabbed his speaker hoping some background noise would muffle the sound of the stale air. It had helped, the smell of Kyle’s neutral scent causing the pounding in your head to relax and combined with the scent of Johnny from the stuffed jellyfish he had bought you, you should be passed out by now.

It was too dark.

You huffed, uncovering yourself again, heading towards the kitchen, flicking the light on, and making your way back to Kyle's room. You kept the door open providing just enough light to where you could clearly see everything without any mistaken shadows.

You finally fell asleep.

The next day you had something planned with Anais. It was a ‘fitness club’ that met twice a week every week for two hours to futz around in the massive gym, without worrying about any cocky alphas or flirty betas. They had everything from trampolines to obstacle courses. You and Anais decided on the massive yoga balls.

“I feel horrible,” you whined, hitting the ground as the yoga ball shot out from under you.

“I would too after that.” Anais chuckled, still trying to find a safe space for her glasses. She looked so different without her eyes magnified. With her glasses, she was adorable, without them she was rather alluring. Her brown eyes became an elegant cat shape. “They’ll be back before you know it,” she soothed, trying to keep her balance.

“No, I mean I never asked about you. What do you do when Briggs isn't around,” you questioned.

“Stay with Jane,” she replied. “Sometimes they'll let you have a room in the medical center. You'll have to share with like six other omegas though. It's not too bad,” she smiled.

“If you ever need to stay with me you can,” you offered. She rolled over to you on her stomach, her hand reaching out for yours. You met her halfway, holding onto her arms.

“I mean this in the most respectful way. If I was around anyone in your pack for more than ten minutes I'm positive it would throw me into a heat,” she whispered, wiggling her brow. You laughed, pushing off of each other, both of you hitting the floor with a thud. “Seriously! How you haven't chewed a hole through any of them is beyond me.” She snickered, making you clutch your stomach.

“I've thought about it,” you sighed. “Especially Johnny’s arms,” you admitted, causing her to snort.

“Hey, ladies,” you both snapped your heads to the side at the new voice.

“Priya!” you cheered. It was the first time you had seen her since you'd met her.

“Mind if I sit?” she questioned, pointing to one of the other yoga balls.

“Of course. You remember Anais, right?” you introduced.

“Not that I can remember, no,” she said, making you and Anais quirk a brow.

“Oh! I usually wear glasses!” Anais chuckled, putting the thick frames back on her face. Priya's face lit up.

“Of course! I'm so sorry!” she chuckled.

Your mind had been completely taken off of the boys. The ache in your chest and the constantly looming cloud of doom vanished like it had never even been there. Until it was time to leave.

Anais’ alpha, Briggs, picked her up today and it was the first time you had ever seen him. He was handsome- a bit younger than you were expecting. His short blonde hair was neatly cropped, his green eyes shining when he saw her.

It reminded you of how Kyle looks at you.

“I've heard a lot about you,” he smiled, putting Anais down. There was a boyish charm about him. So different from the vibe your boys gave off.

“Good things?” you hummed. He chuckled, nodding his head.

“Good things,” he affirmed. “Me and Anais will walk you back to your place,”

“Are you sure? Me and Priya live in the same building. So we won’t be alone,” you explained.

“Your alpha made sure my girl got home. It's only fair I return the favor,” he insisted.

You couldn't argue with that. Briggs was a gentleman through and through. That reminded you of John. He was from South Africa and had been in the military for ten years. He was older than he looked. His trip here was supposed to be quick, but he got wrapped up in an ongoing case. He and Anais had been together for three years, and he offhandedly mentioned trying for kids which made Anais swat at him. It was the first time you had seen her flush.

“Thank you, for making sure we got home safe,” you thanked outside the tall gray building.

“Of course.”

You and Anais hugged and Priya said a thank you of her own before the two of you headed inside.

“Hey wanna do something tomorrow?” Priya asked in the elevator.

“Yeah, sure. What did you have in mind? We could go to the library? Or”-

“There’s a recreational room in the medical center. I think it is supposed to be used for patients who are there for a long time, but no one is ever in there when I go.”

A small alarm bell went off in your head. Medical was the last place you would want to go for a fun time. It was uncomfortably sterile and ghoulish. Yet Priya looked excited. Maybe you were just being dramatic.

“Sounds good,” you shrugged, as she stepped off the elevator at her floor.

“Great, see you then!”

You had already broken one of Simon's rules.

Hellooooo! 🧡 See you in two days for chapter 17! It’s another dramatic one….

Do we think Simon redeemed himself? Maybe just a little? I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Thank you for interacting with this post! 🧡

[zweigsangel]

LOOKIN’ OUT FOR YOU — hockeyplayer!chris

blurb; he helps you when your feet hurt after dance class. pure fluff!! mentions of blood.

your dance class had just ended, and you were in the dimly lit locker room with the other girls, the sound of muffled chatter and laughter filling the space. the faint scent of sweat lingered in the air. as always, chris would be coming to pick you up, but you still had a few minutes to yourself. you sat down on one of the cold, wooden benches, the surface hard against your legs, and placed your worn duffel bag next to you. with a sigh, you unzipped it and rummaged through until you found your spare shoes.

your feet ached, a dull throb that reminded you of every leap, every turn from the past hour. slowly, you slipped off your ballet flats, the tight fabric sticking slightly to your skin. as you pulled them off, you noticed the sharp sting before you saw it—blood. crimson streaks marked the tops of your toes, the raw skin beneath bright and painful to the touch. “shit,” you murmured under your breath, your voice barely a whisper in the quiet corner of the room.

one by one, the other girls left, their voices fading as they said their goodbyes, leaving the locker room quiet and still. the soft echo of the door closing behind them made the silence even more noticeable. you were alone now, sitting on the hard bench, staring at your injured feet. with a deep breath, you reached for your spare shoes, trying to slip them on, but the moment the fabric touched your raw skin, a sharp pain shot through you. you winced, biting your lip as you tried again, but the ache was unbearable.

"babe, are you here?" chris's voice echoed through the empty locker room, and you saw him walk in, his expression already full of worry. the moment he laid eyes on you, his concern deepened, and his gaze dropped to your feet. "oh fuck," he muttered, his brow furrowing. "hold on. i’ll get something, i don’t know, jus’—wait here." without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel, disappearing back through the door in a hurry.

when he returned, he had ice and a towel in his hands. he walked over to you quickly, then knelt down in front of you. he gently pressed the ice to one of your feet, and the cold sent a sharp jolt of pain through you, a soft whimper escaping your lips as your hands instinctively gripped his shoulders. "it's okay, relax," he said, his voice steady and calm. his eyes stayed focused on your feet as he carefully held the ice against them, wrapping them in the towel to ease the pain, his touch gentle.

"jesus, what did you do to end up like this?" chris's voice was low, filled with concern, as he lifted his gaze to meet yours. his brow was furrowed, the usual warmth in his eyes replaced with worry as he studied your face. you offered him a small smile, trying to ease his worry. "sometimes it happens, it's normal," you said quietly. he let out a slow breath, his hand lingering on your ankle for a moment before he returned his attention to your feet. the ice had begun to numb the pain, but you could still feel the sharp stings beneath. "this isn't normal angel," he muttered, his voice tight with frustration as he looked back down at your feet. his fingers twitched slightly and his jaw clenched. you watched him, seeing how much it affected him, but there was little you could say. this wasn’t new to you—the bruises, the blisters, the blood—but to him, it felt like too much.

after a while, he carefully removed the ice and towel, setting them down on the bench beside you. without saying a word, he reached for your spare shoes and ballet flats, placing them gently inside your duffel bag before zipping it up and slinging it over his shoulder. "what are you doing?" you asked, a hint of confusion in your voice.

but instead of answering, he bent down and scooped you up in his arms, holding you like a princess. "taking ya home, angel.”

[katsukistofu]

prickle me pink

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ k. bakugo x fem reader. fluff. ⭑ katsuki finds himself taking care of the cactus you gifted him against his better judgement.

It’s in the little things he does.

The sticky notes he leaves for you in the bento box he “accidentally” made an extra of and gives to you because he “ain’t wasting perfectly good food,” telling you to drink your damn water and that he’s proud of you, or that you look cute today.

Your favorite snack and a juicebox on your desk in the morning before the bell rings, which you swear you’ve only mentioned liking once and it was when you first met.

Whenever he fusses over your jacket when it’s cold outside and insists you hold hands with him, saying it’s “more work for him if you get sick.” Yet the way he takes off his scarf to wrap you up in its warmth is devastatingly gentle, despite his coarse scoldings.

Homemade chocolates shoved into your hands the moment you arrive at school every single White Day without fail, ignoring the stares from envious onlookers as he tugs you by the hand to walk you to class. The bandaids, only the cute character ones because you’re a stubborn brat who won’t wear anything else no matter how bad you get hurt, and ointment he keeps in his school bag.

Because he knows how accident prone you can be and it drives him insane whenever he sees a new scratch or bruise come from out of nowhere when you were fine moments ago.

Katsuki’s always been meticulous about everything in his life, and that includes loving you.

So the confusion on his face is almost humorously palpable as he squints at the cactus you randomly place in front of him in class one day.

“What is this?” Your boyfriend grumbles, holding his notebooks and pencil case in his hands. “Taking up space on my desk.”

“Suki!” You pout. “That’s mean. I bought this cactus.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Because…?”

“‘Cause it reminds me of you!”

The fuck does that even mean, it reminds you of him? This short, misshapen, stubby little thing that needed to be buried in dirt to even stand up on its own? Katsuki snorts, his amusement only growing at the sight of your deepening worried frown.

As if he would ever throw away anything from you. He’d rather take one of his own explosions to the face.

“Thanks, I guess.” Is all he says, his hand coming down to give a strong pat to your head. It was kind of ugly, but whatever. Hell, it was a gift from you that you specifically got for him, and honestly that’s all that mattered. “I’ll take care of it.”

You beam up at him from under his palm, and his heart clenches. “Really?”

“Yeah. Now go sit your ass down and take out that homework I know you forgot to do last night.”

“Yessir!” You mock salute and hurry over to your seat, opening up your shoulder bag.

Denki grimaces as he passes by, pointing at the new green addition to the blond boy’s desk. “Ew Bakugo, what is that?”

“Shut up, Dunce Face.” Katsuki scowls, protectively moving the pot closer to him. “Your eyes are getting shittier than Glasses’.”

Mina laughs as Denki sulks, now in his own seat, and glances over to where he was pointing at. “Ooh, it’s actually pretty cute!”

“Damn right it is.”

Katsuki’s lips curve slightly in pride, crimson eyes flickering over to your direction where you were hunched over scribbling on paper with scrunched up eyebrows, trying to do some problems on your own while you wait for him to come over. Fuck, you’re cute, he thinks.

“That’s ‘cause my girl picked it.”

After class, Katsuki finds himself googling “how to not kill a cactus” for the first time in his life and of course it’s because of you.

His brow raises as he scans the gardening article on his phone screen.

He’s no green thumb but he’s had some experience and it was pretty easy to keep a plant alive, but just to make sure. Half of it is information he already knows, put your cactus in a good spot to get sunlight, water it once a week, yada yada.

But what catches his eye is the section labeled “Flowering Cacti.”

So they could bloom depending on the species, and only under very nit-picky conditions, like cool to warm temperature fluctuations and specific pollinators. Interesting.

Hopefully he wouldn’t have to wrangle a bat to get some flowers to grow on it, though he could probably ask that animal-talking extra to help.

“Katsuki!” Something tackles him from behind and he barely budges, already knowing it’s you. It’s muscle memory at this point, the feeling of your soft body against his, etched into the molecules of his skin from all those times you’d sneak into his dorm past curfew to cuddle and how you always fell asleep on him during class field trips, not to mention plane rides.

You peer over his broad shoulder like a hamster peeking out of their hidey hole. “What are you looking at?”

“Nosy.” Katsuki snorts, holding up his phone to your face. Deliberately only showing the guide on how to care for cacti indoors, and not the flowering one. He doesn’t want you to see it, not yet.

─────────

You’re in your boyfriend’s dorm room several days later, finally finishing the last problem on the new sheet of homework you got from Ectoplasm’s class. Bakugo hovers over you to scan your equations, finally giving a satisfied nod.

A jolt of pride courses through him. You got all of them right, just like how he taught you.

“Good job.” Katsuki pats your head and your heart soars. You tilt your head up to give a little smooch to his palm and he blushes, jerking his hand back.

“The fuck?” He laughs, grabbing your wrist and pinning it to his mouth in retaliation, pressing a painstakingly soft kiss there, then to your palm too. Katsuki smirks at the way he makes you shakily exhale at his touch. “What was that for?”

“Nothing.” An almost drowsy, content smile spreads across your lips. “Just love you so much.”

"Stop trying to one up me,” Katsuki rasps in your ear. You yelp as his hands squeeze your hips hard, holding onto his toned arms to steady yourself.

“Not trying to! Just telling the truth.” You keep looking at him with a cute, dumb grin on your face, and his breath catches.

Your eyes widen as you sneak a glance at his desk.

“Woah! Katsuki Jr. got taller.”

He snorts, turning his head to also look at the cactus that’s been sitting under his lamp for the past week. “Katsuki Jr.?”

“Yeah because you guys have the same hair.” You exaggerate a dreamy sigh, reaching up to caress his cheek. “He really takes after you, Katsuki Sr.”

“Shut up, dumbass.” He nudges your cheek with his nose, drinking up the delicious sounds of your giggles.

“Can I sit in your lap now?” You ask shyly.

With an eye roll, Katsuki holds his arms out for you to claim the reward he proposed earlier for this study session. “Get over here already.”

His arms wrap comfortably around your waist as you settle in your usual spot between his firm thighs, and he drops his head down and brushes a soft kiss against the crook of your neck.

“I love you too.” The pink blossoming across his cheeks contradicts his gruff tone, but you’ve known him too long to not know better.

Katsuki Bakugo is meticulous in loving you, and that means he never says anything he doesn't mean.

─────────

The vibrations in the pocket of his slacks are becoming so incessant that he can’t ignore them anymore and Katsuki sighs under his breath as he slips it out while Aizawa’s turned to the board to write something.

ass gremlin

sukiiiii

ass gremlin

katsudonnnnn

ass gremlin

kitkattttt

katsu curry

What

ass gremlin

send me pics of our baby pls i wanna see how tall he is now

katsu curry

?

That cactus you bought me two weeks ago

ass gremlin

duh!!!

katsu curry

Later

In my room before we go out

ass gremlin

YAYYAYAY

can u help me pick my outfit too

katsu curry

Duh

We’re matching dumbass

Katsuki’s behind you with a firm hand on your waist to hold you in place when you smirk at the window sill, and he looks up to see that you’re admiring Katsuki Jr.

The cactus was an even more vibrant shade of green than when you first gave it to him, and small, delicate pink flowers were starting to bloom on its fuzzy head.

It took a lot of effort to get those to start growing, but it was all worth it to see the delighted expression on your face right now.

“So you really have been taking care of him like he’s your kid, huh?”

“Our kid.” He corrects you with a grumble against your neck, easily zipping up the back of your dress in one smooth motion. “Told you I would, didn't I? Thing was a pain in the ass to find high potassium fertilizer for.

“Aw, really?” You turn around to face him and he brings you closer as your arms rest on his broad shoulders. “Well… you know how it’s better to have two cats than one, since just one kitty can make them feel lonely?”

He knows that look. Katsuki scowls, roughly poking a dent into your cheek to discourage the mischievous grin that's starting to spread across your face.

“You’ll never guess what I got you for our anniversary.”

“No.”

“But Katsuki Jr.!”

“I raised that little shit, he’ll tough it out.”

“I just thought maybe we could get him a sibling—“

“No.”

ur contact name is ass gremlin bc u have bad habit of smacking his butt when he walks by lol