#because in recent years in particular he’s good at it

[doberbutts]

I was a Girl Scout for about 7 or so years before my troop disbanded and my area couldn't find another leader until after I aged out, or else I would have stayed in the Scouts much longer.

I will say that at least when I was a Scout, I could see why a trans boy might be uncomfortable, as there is a LOT of emphasis on girlhood and sisterhood and being a girl growing into a woman etc. And there may be a question about how appropriate it is for him to be sharing the same sleeping areas and changing areas as the girls as these kids age and puberty behinds to happen.

However. However. The Girl Scouts have already declared that they are friendly to trans girls and will accept them in direct opposition to the Boy Scouts original stance on trans youth as an organization, and the opposition to *that* was pretty much verbatim: what happens when a trans girl goes through puberty and is still using the same changing areas and cabins and such as the cis girls. And the Girl Scouts pretty much went "w/e we'll figure it out, girls are girls so anyone who is a girl can stay" and to my knowledge that's pretty much as far as it went.

(Also at least when my troop went camping, we went with the local Boy Scout troop and so we had "boy bathrooms" and "girl bathrooms" and "boy cabins" and "girl cabins" so it's not even that hard to like. Just have the kid use the correct bathroom and cabin for their gender. But perhaps other troops don't coordinate like that.)

So it's... odd, to me, to say that reacting negatively to this case of a trans boy is, hmm, "saying trans men can be everywhere but trans women can be nowhere" because it's more or less the opposite that's happening to this kid. The Boy Scouts took much longer to accept trans boys than the Girl Scouts did to accept trans girls, which means there's a fairly high chance that this particular kid likely *already had made connections in his local GS troop and didn't want to uproot his social group*.

This is important and needs some keeping in mind- because this kid was 17, and has been part of his GS troop since he was 6, and Boy Scouts only started allowing trans boys on a case-by-case basis... 7 years ago. So he was 10, and already well-secured in his troop community, when the Boy Scouts had a shaky at best policy, in a super red area that likely *would not* have approved his entry regardless of what the Council said, much like they did for other trans boys *that same calendar year*.

So... to be clear, we're asking a 9-11 year old depending on exact birthdays to give up all their friends on a solid maybe that, considering the area, almost guarantees he's going to at least get beaten up and bullied... because that is just good transgender-friendly praxis. Yeah. OK.

We also don't know how long he's been out, or even known he was transgender, so it's very possible that his social transition is much more recent than that even, which gives him even longer to have formed connections.

And *then* you add that usually your Scout troop is your local community, so he may very well have known boys within his local Boy Scout troop that were known to not be kind to queer kids and din't want the trouble. I can tell you that the girls in my troop clocked me well before I even knew the word transgender and were not kind to me about it, and I lived in an equally red part of the same state.

folks if you can't conceive of a world in which both trans boys and trans girls are able to exist in the same space that's like. your problem. i actually think it's incredibly easy for the girl scouts to both be fully inclusive of trans girls AND any trans boys who want to participate in it, especially if they were a scout pre transition and that is where all of their friends and support comes from. or if there are no boy scouts nearby. or if they are nonbinary and assigned whatever at birth and want to be in a scouting troup and girl scouts seems more affirming than boy scouts. why do Y'ALL feel like trans girls can only be affirmed through binarism. why are y'all so uncharitable to trans boys.

[beloveds-embrace]

I just recently got into CoD and learning all the story’s and characters, and I absolutely love your Roomemate 141 Series!

I can’t help but think of the holiday season with them, decorating with the boys (John is always happy to help, and doesn’t mind if you tell him to adjust a garland or a wreath a million times, just as long as your happy in the end, he thinks anyway you decorate makes their home look great) or going out shopping (Kyle definitely seems the type to jump at the offer to accompany you, keeping an eye out at all the things you pick up and put down to add to his shopping list to gift to you) or (-if you celebrate Christmas,) going to pick out a tree with the boys?

Johnny is trying to convince you to get the biggest fullest tree after all you should have the absolute best for the holidays…and don’t forget when your decorating it, everyone helps even if you just buy some cheap ornaments for this year because the boys don’t have any particular special ornaments (You picked out a special ornament for each of the boys to give them on Christmas…so it won’t be cheap ornaments on the tree for long…) AND when it’s time to put the Star or Angel or whatever tree topper on the tree, Simon is all the happier to be the one to lift you up to the top so you can put the finishing touch on the tree.

(And don’t think about one of the boys putting up a mistletoe in the hallway that you always walk through so now all of them are trying to get caught underneath it with you… 👀)

Waitt omg this so cute 😭 holiday decorationing means the decor tyrant that you are is fully out and thriving but in all honesty, John doesn’t mind. He loves the boys but Kyle is the one one of them with any sense of home styling but they just never have enough time to shop. But here you are, excited to decorate the space even more than you’ve already done and who is John to even think about saying no? … even if he’s sure the fairy lights are centered, love.

Said fairy lights that you got while shopping with Kyle, who leaves your side for a while and when he returns, he’s brought all your favorite candles and snacks that have run out. Also he 100% has access to your amazon or whatever wishlist so he knows what to get you for Christmas, and still would’ve known what to get even without that wishlist because he’s always so focused on you, your likes and dislikes and what catches your eyes.

Also yes johnny absolutely does try to get the biggest tree 😭 you have to remind him that you live in an apartment and if he really wants that tree then you’d need to take a wall and maybe a good chunk of the ceiling out 💀 he still does manage to convince you to buy a relatively big tree, and rewards you with making his mom’s secret hot chocolate recipe that will have you all cozy and cuddly against his side on the couch <3

Also. Ornament painting with them 🥹 just a fun little activity to have some special ornaments to hang on the tree, and you don’t even notice you are sitting on Simon’s lap while you two are painting. When it’s time to decorate the tree, it’s a group effort that ends with Simon just easily picking you up to place the star/angel on the top. The excited look on your face was absolutely worth it.

And not only do they hang up the misteltoe, they’ll be carrying it and holding it up above whenever they manage to lololol trust that Christmas is only made better with lotsss of kisses <33

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

Heart on a Chain (Scrooge!Aemond x Reader)

Christmas day and a recently rediscovered ring bring unpleasant and unwanted memories.

Pairing: Ebenezer Scrooge-coded Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (second person, no use of Y/N)

Warnings: Angst :(

Author's note: The guy that played young Scrooge at the Christmas Carol I went to today was hot and the way he carried himself reminded me of Aemond so... here we are. Wrote this in less than two hours lmao.

-

Heart on a Chain

Christmas Day.

For the past two years, Aemond had not given more than a passing thought to the holiday. That thought being annoyance at having to pay his employees a full day’s wages for no work.

It was just another day. He woke, read the papers while he ate, then went to the office. He balanced the books, double-checked the work of his clerks, and inspected the warehouse’s stock. He sat with his business partner and discussed new prospects.

Even now, Cole was telling him about a potential new partnership he’d identified. A newly founded firm, desperate for reputable clients, would be almost too easy to maneuver into a contract that would heavily favor Targaryen & Cole. Ordinarily, Aemond would be eager to sink his teeth into the prospect, but now…

Now, he could not focus on Cole’s words. He could not bear to look at the pages of figures strewn on the table before them. He couldn’t even remember the name of the new firm, or what it was they did.

His entire world had faded to the ring that sat in his pocket.

Dull, cheap gold set with a pathetically small cabochon – he didn’t remember what the stone was, just that it was vaguely red. It looked ridiculous against the fine gold chain he’d purchased. That was the reason it remained in his pocket, rather than around his neck, he told himself.

It certainly wasn’t because he was afraid to see it out in the open, to be reminded of the slender hand it had once graced and the woman it had belonged to.

He hadn’t thought of her in years. Had not let himself, from the moment the door closed behind her. The same door that now loomed behind Cole, where the dented brass bell swayed slightly from the draft, just as it had three Christmases past…

“Aemond?”

He held back a sigh. Why did she have to come now? He was busy, as he told her he would be. He did not want to be disturbed, as he also told her. He had even agreed to go to Christmas dinner at her parent’s house that evening to ensure she would not bother him during the day.

Yet, here she was.

“Yes, dearest?” he called as he climbed off the ladder. Best to be sweet now, to soothe whatever mood had taken her this time. If she came all the way down to Cornhill and made it past Cole in the office, she must be in quite the state.

Indeed, as she found him amongst the massive rows of shelves, her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes shone with tears that sparkled with the reflection of his lamp. Still, she was beautiful. If only she would content herself with what he had to do to ensure the security of their life together.

She stopped, straightening her shoulders. Her furious blinking betrayed the fact that she was battling her tears to keep them from falling. “Aemond, we need to speak.”

“I assume there is something particular you wish to speak about?” He was distracted as he walked toward her, the label on one of the crates he passed catching his eye.

That order was supposed to be shipped out days ago. He’d dock Cargyll’s wages by half this week for allowing such a major error. The recipient of this shipment was very particular and would undoubtedly complain that his goods were late.

“We must discuss our agreement,” her voice, now bordering on shrill, reclaimed his attention.

What was there to discuss? He’d agreed to go to her house after he finished work at six, and… damn. When he pulled his watch from his waistcoat, he found it was already half-past seven. Still, dinner wouldn’t be served until eight. He had time. “I admit I’m running late, but with all the workers out for the holiday – ”

“Not about that agreement, Aemond. About our engagement.” A heavy stone settled in Aemond’s stomach, chill as ice. She continued, “I cannot help but feel that an idol has displaced me in your affections.”

The stone turned hot and rancid with anger. “And what is this idol, may I ask?”

“A golden one.” Her tears vanished, replaced with cold righteousness. “Wealth and power, and everything else your father denied you.”

“Is it a sin to seek security? To endeavor to escape the cruel grasp of poverty and helplessness?”

She came closer to him, setting a gloved hand on his arm. He had to resist the urge to pull away. “Your fear and resentment have overpowered your nobler aspirations,” she said softly. “Now, your only passion is gaining more and more, beyond what is necessary.”

Aemond took her hand, suppressing the urge to seize her shoulders and shake sense back into her. “Even if that were true, I am not changed toward you.”

To his horror, she pulled away, shaking her head.

“Dearest?”

She flinched as if the word struck her. “Our agreement was made long ago. When we were poor and in love and content to remain so.”

“I was a boy, then,” he scoffed.

“And I loved that boy!” She fell quiet for a moment, turning away from him when he reached for her. “But that boy is gone, and my heart aches for him. It is in his memory that I release you from our agreement.”

Until that moment, Aemond had nearly forgotten he had a heart. But her words shattered it, and pain wracked through his chest. Juvenile fear and distress took hold of him. He approached her, oblivious to her feeble attempts to move away, and took her in his arms. “Dearest, I do not understand. Have I ever sought release?”

“Not with words.”

“In what, then?”                     

She finally faced him again, and he knew he would never forget the horrible sight of her heartbreak and disdain – disdain for him. “In a changed nature and spirit. You do not look at me as you used to, Aemond. I used to feel beautiful when you looked at me, but now, I feel like a burden saddled upon you.”

“That is not true,” he begged.

“Tell me, honestly,” her gaze and voice steadied, even as tears spilled down her soft cheeks. “If you were to make the choice today, would you choose a dowerless girl?”

Aemond wanted to say no. But the world would not form. All he could say was, “You think not.”

The tension in her body vanished, her shoulders sagging and her head drooping. She looked up at him with despairing conviction. “With a full heart, for the love of who you once were, I release you.” She backed away from him, and his heart went with her. “May you be happy in the life you have chosen.”

She had only taken three steps away when he called her name, extending a hand to her.

But when she set her hand in his, he harshly pulled away.

He extended his hand once more. “My ring.”

It was her ring, he knew. It always was and always had been, even when he had forgotten about it. It was likely why, that night, he had thrown it carelessly into a dresser drawer to get it out of his sight. To forget the pain that had been contained within that strange, reddish stone.

But his maid had found it three days prior and given it to him, unleashing all that pain back into the heart-shaped hole in his chest. It was ruining him, that pain, clouding his mind and stealing away his better judgment.

“Aemond?” Cole’s voice was filled with annoyance. “Have your senses fled with the workers? What is wrong with you?”

Wrong? Nothing was wrong with him. Something was missing. She was missing. “Forgive me, Cole,” he said. “I must have eaten something odd. I’m afraid I am out of sorts.”

“Well, you’re no use like this. Go home. Come back all the earlier tomorrow, though!”

Aemond was already out the door, his coat only half-buttoned.

Home. He needed to go home, eat a hot meal, and go to bed early. Yes, a good rest would fix whatever had gone wrong inside him. He just needed to get home.

His feet didn’t take him home. They carried him to a place that he may once have called home but no longer. Equally traitorous, his hand raised in a fist to knock on the door he once would have entered without a second thought.

A cheering from beyond the door halted his movements, and Aemond moved to glance through the nearest window.

There she was. Just as radiant as he remembered. Even more so, for she smiled.

She smiled at the babe she held in her arms.

A babe who bore the same smile as its mother. But its eyes and hair were different. Those had been inherited not from its mother but from the father who stood behind the child and mother, looking on them both with unabashed adoration and pride.

Aemond had looked at her in much the same way, when he had been capable of feeling such things.

All the air left his chest. Had he ever been able to breathe? Perhaps he would die before he remembered how to. Part of him wanted to.

But somehow, he pulled enough air into his lungs to fuel his body as he walked across town to his own home. He ate his dinner, read the evening papers, and retreated to his bedroom. There, he readied himself for bed. Yes, a good night’s rest would cure him of this ailment.

He did not realize until he laid upon his bed that the cool metal of a chain rested against his skin.

If he could not bear his heart in his chest. He would wear it around his neck.

[livi-in-digital-circus]

That one time when Ragatha (surprisingly) got jealous

For day 1 of Bunnydoll Week 2024 - Jealousy

It was the day a new character arrived at the circus. And unfortunately for Ragatha, it was a strangely cute pinkish rabbit. Dressed in pastels and ribbons, Mary Sue was the prettiest figure in the entire Digital Circus. But it was not her looks that the rag doll was jealous of.

After combining everything they remembered from their past lives, a conclusion was formed that Jax had in fact dated Sue in high school. Usually, girls lose their feelings for their boyfriends after they haven’t seen them for a few years, but this particular case was different. After being reunited with the ‘love of her life’, Sue wanted to make sure their relationship was still possible, but even though she seemed sweet and innocent, she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

The problem was that recently Jax was currently dating Ragatha and there was no way he was going to break up with her.

Right?

The first adventure Caine prepared for Sue also worked to Ragatha’s disadvantage. It was to be a treasure hunt throughout the circus, including the bedrooms. The team was divided into pairs and one trio, which was Ragatha, Gangle, and Kinger. All groups had about thirty minutes to find all the items to get a grand prize, which surprisingly wasn’t a feast.

Terror washed over Ragatha as she remembered something Jax had left in her room the night before. The thought of someone finding it under her bed made her dizzy, as their relationship was still a secret she shared only with Pomni. Mostly so as not to scare Gangle and not to make Zooble think badly of the rag doll.

Once the details of the adventure were explained, Caine snapped his fingers, and random valuable items spawned in various locations. There was no map or clues as to where to find them, which was to be expected from the ringmaster. His adventures weren’t supposed to be easy after all.

As they wandered through the main area, Ragatha heard a giggle coming from another side of the circus and she could swear it was Sue. Unfortunately, she was paired with Jax and was probably trying to convince him that they should continue their relationship. And that made Ragatha’s non-existent blood boil.

In all the years she was trapped in the circus, Ragatha never felt jealous of anyone. She had her own opinions about each character, which differed slightly from what she said she thought about them. But no matter how bad or good they were, jealousy was something unknown to her.

Until now.

Even though Jax had promised Ragatha a thousand times that he had no interest in cheating on her, Sue's presence made her anxious. She glanced again in the direction the sound was coming from, but saw nothing. That didn’t help at all, as Ragatha felt her fists clenching.

She didn‘t care about the girls Jax was talking to because they were their friends. But this was his former girlfriend and that was a problem.

“Ragatha, are you okay? You’re shaking all over.”

“Huh?” The rag doll was pulled out of her thoughts by Gangle, who looked at her with a worried expression. “Oh! Yeah, I’m fine! No need to worry!”

“You always say that when something is wrong…”

Ragatha let out a deep sigh and moved her non-button eye to the ground. What was she supposed to say? ‘Oh, I’m just pissed off because this Mary Sue turned out to be Jax’s girlfriend from the real world, and by the way, me and Jax have been dating for quite some time’? No way.

Instead, she just kept walking until they reached the bedroom area. The first room they decided to check was Pomni’s, but Ragatha quickly ran to hers. She had to calm herself down before she flew into a rage, grabbed Sue by her bunny ears, and threw her out of the circus.

She sat on the bed and thought about what to do. What if Jax had already broken his promise and cheated on her? Ragatha felt her eye water. She had to find out. But before she could do anything, the door opened and none other than Jax entered the room. The first thing he noticed, of course, was the rag doll.

“Quitting the adventure? That’s not your style, Raggy.” He sat down next to her, expecting to hear some sort of complaint from her, but all he saw was her tears and trembling. The smile faded from Jax’s face. “Alright Dollface, what’s going on?”

“I… don’t like you hanging out with another girl, especially if she’s your ex…”

Jax’s eyes widen at those words. He had never seen Ragatha jealous before, so it took him by surprise. But it was a sight to behold.

“Awww, you poor little thing. Remember what I promised you? [BEEP], Sue doesn’t even have romantic feelings for me anymore, she just spends a lot of time with me just because she wants to be friends again.”

Ragatha looked at him as if he had just said that he had drowned Caine in the Digital Lake. She felt a huge embarrassment and hid her face in Jax’s chest. She hadn’t even had a chance to get to know Sue better and was already making assumptions based on her and the rabbit’s past relationship.

Jax put a hand behind her head and slowly ran his fingers through her yarn curls. He wasn’t angry with her for being jealous. In fact, he found it quite impressive.

Ragatha also had no idea that her boyfriend had noticed her strange behavior and the way she gave Sue a death stare. What a cutie.

Yes, she should be jealous more often.

Thanks for reading!

[age-of-moonknight]

“A Little Chaos,” Moon Knight Annual (Vol. 5/2024), #1.

Writer: Dan Watters; Penciler and Inker: Marco Renna; Colorist: Rachelle Rosenberg; Letterer: Cory Petit

[freebooter4ever]

What do you miss most about Pittsburgh?

Oh gosh, that's a question! I mean aside from the obvious answer of my old dance buddy lettia or naeem.

I miss pittsburgh's community, specifically the very music and art oriented one i was in. There's community here in LA but its all about fame, and money, and celebrity, and how you can use other people to get ahead. Just the other day i saw an influencer i actually kinda admired brag about meeting someone who out of respect for them + their privacy i have never never mentioned because i met them as a friend first. And it felt so weird seeing this person i know be used as click bait for the influencer's hits/likes/subscriptions. It kind of jolted some reality into me about how this city operates even in the smaller circles i run in. Its like the vibes in LA are all about 'being someone' and self importance. If someone is only going to respect me for my money (or disrespect me for my lack of money), or who i know, or credits to my name, i dont think i want their respect anyway.

Pittsburgh though - nobody was anybody in pittsburgh so we didnt fucking care, lol. It was a lot easier to go to things, to feel connected. There was an emphasis on diy, where it didnt matter who you were or who you knew if you had a good idea there was a chance it could happen. There were things like Art All Night and the various music festivals in the different neighborhoods. I was most connected to the music scene so i miss the casual afternoon concerts in someone's tiny apartment with everyone crowded around the band. The basement parties, the dancing. Ted's rowhouse was on fisk street so when i lived there with friends i really enjoyed how much of a community space it was - people were always coming and going off of butler street, movie nights, human chess parties. It definitely could feel too small sometimes - literally everybody knew everyone and everybody dated everyone. The year i left two of my ex boyfriends were living in the same house and i cant tell you the number of 'male harem' jokes i got about that one. Or the number of times a dude wanted to date me and when i said 'no' i immediately got excluded from an entire friend group. But no matter how frustrating the smallness got, i still was also aware of how special it was. Its also mostly over - a lot of my friends from that time have since dispersed to other cities. I think moments like that are fleeting, but thats what makes them unique.

But even with all that said, you know what my favorite thing to do in pittsburgh was?

Driving

and ok ok that probably sounds stupid. And it probably does not help that im in LA where driving is now the second level of hell. But even compared to seattle or nyc or other places i lived, driving in pittsburgh was just so much fun and you cant recreate that anywhere else. I once saw a data visualization of the main cities of the US and places like LA and even NYC were nicely laid out squares but pittsburgh was just this insane clusterfuck pencil scribble, and thats truly it. Cause not only do you have over 100 bridges and lots of one way roads that will funnel you onto a bridge you absolutely dont want to go over but whoops guess you're going anyway, but this city was also built on a cluster of hills. Thats what makes up the various neighborhoods - and the roads that connect these hills through hollows and over forests - are the most confusing rat maze you can imagine. For every one way to go there's also probably a dozen other options and mentally calculating which route will be fastest taking into account traffic and distance and 'speed limit' is a skill only acquired after years of living in the city. And if you have a tiny car and nasc*ar level driving skills thanks to the multiple generations of engineers in your family....driving up and down those hills is just a joy. It also, uh, helped that I made my own hours so worked from 11am - 3am most days and avoided all traffic. And in the city proper the pigs arent allowed to r*adar so as long as you knew where the speed traps were you could...uhhh... Be lenient. I only ever got pulled over once and that was because one time in the spring of 2016 i went home from work early one night and these asshole hockey fans were taking up the entire street around the rink that would get me onto bigelow and connect me to lawrenceville. And since i couldnt go down that one street, becaues its pittsburgh, i had to go in the complete opposite direction to find another route home which took like an extra fifteen minutes. And yeah i got pulled over, started crying and explaining i was just trying to get home from work, and they let me go. But damn those hockey fans. :P (but also had i realized you could go hangout outside and watch the hockey game on giant screens with a huge crowd of fellow broke but dedicated weirdos, i totally would have loved that. Thats what pittsburgh is all about lmao)

Anyway one of my old friends moved from pitt to LA, and then he moved from LA to shanghai. And i once asked him would he move back to LA and his response was that he couldn't imagine living in LA again after living in a Proper City like shanghai. And he made it clear that he saw being able to 'make it' in larger and larger cities as like...a mark of his personal progress. But me? Im a small town girl unfortunately. I still dream about the day i can fuck off to live in a cabin in the woods somewhere.

[coveredinsun]

unironically being on twitter for 5 minutes has me wanting to write thinkpieces about media and morality and the harshness of twitter. and that one long quote about the topic i reblogged once but unfortunately lost

[blackwaxidol]

I'm so pleased with how Ru'thûn's disguise is turning out. She looks great...

[hannieehaee]

HOW SWEET

18+ / mdi

summary: after years of an unspoken fight between you and your self-proclaimed enemy, you find yourself forced to work with your life-long rival, kim mingyu, as your father offers him a position at the family bakery. with such forced proximity and endless arguments, how are you supposed to cater to your duties when mingyu's presence brings so much tension to the kitchen?

content: baker!mingyu, enemies to lovers, pining, one sided crush that becomes two sided!, afab reader, smut, teasing, semi public sex (its done in a public establishment but no one is there), breast play, food play (frosting on tits basically), fingering, handjob, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 8.4k

a/n: i know nothing about cooking or about how a bakery runs so please take everything here with a grain of salt and just enjoy it for what it is: self-indulgent smut

masterlist | patreon

Twelve years.

Twelve years dedicating yourself to your craft, attending summer camps, taking elective classes, paying for extracurricular classes, working summers at your dad's place, making all effort known to man, yet this is how it all ended.

Maybe claiming this to be the end was slightly dramatic, but that's how it felt at the moment. As you stared up at your dad and the excuse of a man standing next to him, far too cocky for you to allow your anger yo subside.

Today had been an average day. Throughout your life, you were content to admit that most of your days could be categorized as good, especially after years of having found comfortable employment at your father's renown bakery soon after high school (thank you nepotism). Attending culinary school whilst managing a part-time job at your dad's place had been anything but difficult. It was quite an easy and enjoyable job, one in which you could proudly say you'd had the chance to grow up in.

Your father had owned the place since before you could even walk, building it up to become a favorite in your city. Business was always booming, and it just so happened to fulfill your passion for baking — one which your dad had obviously passed down to you, but you weren't complaining. You occasionally took up shifts during high school, only becoming a full-fledged part-time employee during university, recently graduating and upgrading to full time. Life was good and steady.

So, it was fair to say that most of your days were good.

However, there was the occasional day that was ruined by the mere presence of a particular individual.

You hadn't meant to dislike him as much as you did. Anyone who knew you could vow for your likable personality and charismatic demeanor, meaning it was difficult for you to bump heads with people (at least most of the time). But there was just one particular person who made your blood boil from the day you met him. It had been so long ago, you couldn't date back the moment — nor the instance — in which your dislike had begun brewing. Fortunately, the dislike was completely mutual. You didn't have to feel like an asshole for scowling at the man any time you saw him, because you were usually met by a mirror of your expression or an annoyingly frustrating smirk — similar to in this moment.

The frustrating man in question was none other than Kim Mingyu, the resident heartthrob and well known for his passion and talent for baking. Hatred for the insufferable man aside, his abilities as a baker, and chef in general, could not be denied. The mere implication of praise made you gag, but you liked to think you were mature enough to admit talent when you saw it. This was something you'd never verbalize, however, knowing the man to also be one of the cockiest people you'd ever met.

There were a myriad of reasons as to why your current predicament ruined not only your day, but likely many upcoming ones. The main reason could be boiled down to the smile on Mingyu's face as he stood to your father's side. The cockiness emitting from him was enough to get your blood boiling and to create a carnal desire within you to beat him to a pulp.

The reason for his smile, however, was what truly took the cake.

Within the past moments in which you'd been processing your father's words, you remained silent and stagnant before them, leading your father to repeat the cursed sentence once more.

"Mingyu's going to be working with us from now on," he'd said with an innocent smile on his face, unknowing of your feud with the man in question.

Everything had come crashing down in that moment, but any more silence from you would mean Mingyu won this round, which was something you simply could not have — even under these circumstances.

Shaking all the anger and hateful memories from your head, you straightened your back and morphed a smile onto your face, one good enough for your dad to buy and for Mingyu to be unable to judge. Your hand extended as a courtesy, offering itself to Mingyu as a form of welcome, something which your father likely expected from you.

"In that case, welcome to the team," you spoke for the first time, sweetly enough to grant you a satisfied smile from your father. The poor man was blissfully unaware of your dislike for Mingyu, so no blame really fell on him for his blind decision.

Grasping your hand in his larger one, Mingyu shook hands with you, satisfied smile still on his face, "Looking forward to working with you," he said, far too content for you to not want to take him out back and-

"I know you kids already know each other from back when you were in school, so it should be easy for you to show him the ropes, right, kid?", asked your dad, interrupting your violent thoughts.

Your head whipped to him, "Show him the ropes?"

"Yeah. I was thinking you could train him? He's already an amazing baker, but maybe he should shadow you for a few weeks. You know, just in case," your father clarified.

Mingyu's close-lipped grin grew wider somehow, almost as if the knowledge of your discomfort at being around him overpowered his own dislike of your presence.

"Uh, yeah. Sure, dad," you found yourself agreeing against your will.

Your dad clapped his hands once in satisfaction, then proceeding to patting your back in encouragement as he tended to do.

"Thanks, kid. Well, I'll leave you two to it," he then turned to Mingyu, "Welcome to the team, son. Y/N here will show you where you can get your apron and give you a general overview of the place before your first day tomorrow," and with that, he made his exit.

Behind, he left a fuming you and an overly pleased Mingyu. Silence filled the room for a few moments until you found it vital to curse out the infuriating boy in front of you.

But, as per usual, he beat you to it.

"Happy to see me, cupcake?"

God damnit. You forgot about the annoying nicknames he'd insisted on calling you by since meeting back in high school.

Cupcake, baby, sweetheart, sweetiepie, babe, honey, darling. And these were the more tame ones. You did not want to think about the instances in which he'd called you hot stuff or sexy in public. They'd led to public displays of aggression you weren't exactly proud of.

"I thought you were studying culinary abroad. What happened? Got yourself kicked out?," you grumbled, walking over to the back of the restaurant with him following close by.

"Nope. Just decided my expertise could be used back home. And clearly since you seem to be the best they got around here."

It was as if he was allergic to not bugging the shit out of you.

You turned to face him, blinking harshly at the unexpected proximity before taking a step back and responding to his smirk with a frown, "Listen, Mingyu. You heard my dad. I'm in charge of you. If you disregard my authority, I won't hesitate to send your ass running. Do you understand?"

This made his grin grow bigger for some reason. Knowing he was getting under your skin was great for his entertainment.

"Yes, ma'am," he bit his lip in amusement.

Training Mingyu was entirely unnecessary.

To your disdain, he was actually quite good at what he did. It was as if baking was second nature to him, just something he'd somehow been born with.

And worst of all, everyone else working at your dad's shop seemed to notice this and could never let anyone forget.

Every day there was one or another form of praise for Mingyu. Whether it was regarding his baking or his people skills, Mingyu was practically employee of the month as far as you were concerned — despite having been around for only a week. He was an overachiever as always, and it unfortunately always worked in his favor.

Mingyu, as per usual, basked in on the constant praise. He was a social butterfly at heart. Everywhere he went, he left with at least one new friend.

You were suddenly feeling alienated at your own family's business.

"What's with the sour face, pumpkin?" he nudged your shoulder as he joined you on the counter, needlessly helping you frost some cupcakes.

"You're ruining my life."

Okay, that might've been a tad dramatic.

"I've followed your every rule. I'm literally the perfect employee."

"I meant with your presence."

"Princess, I thought we were done with this whole 'will they, won't they' thing. I think what you're feeling might just be sexual frustration."

You puffed out some hot air in frustration, not bothering to look at him as you continued to do your work.

"Do you think my father would fire me if I strangled one of his employees?"

He pretended to ponder over it with a hum, "There's way more fun things you could do to me with your hands," was what he settled with.

"Is flirting with me your new method of torturing me with your presence?"

"Nope. Just decided to find a new approach to make my interest known."

He'd said it so nonchalantly you'd almost missed it. It made you halt your movements, allowing Mingyu to fully take over on what you were doing.

"What?"

"This can't come as news to you. I've been flirting with you since middle school," he kept up his nonchalance, not even looking at you as his eyes remained glued to the task at hand.

"Flirting? You call being the bane of my existence for the past twelve years 'flirting'?", you gaped at him, regaining your snark back and snatching the half-frosted cupcake from his hand.

"Everyone else sees it," he shrugged, "You just need to catch up."

Then he left, putting his hands on some other part of the kitchen and leaving you to ponder on that.

Was this supposed to be a confession?

It was entirely too cliche — competitors turned enemies due to circumstance, with one of them being hopelessly in love with the other.

God, that was a dramatic way of putting it.

It has been suggested by other people in the past. Onlookers, classmates, friends, you name it. Everyone had at some point suggested that Mingyu might have feelings for you (or you for him). That your rivalry was born out of that dumb cliche. Pulling at a girl's pigtails to get her attention.

Maybe it seemed that way from an outside perspective, but your disdain for Mingyu was genuine, and you were certain the feeling was entirely mutual.

You couldn't imagine the thought of Mingyu actually being in love with anyone, much less you. The guy was far too in love with himself to allow room for anyone else. Plus, all past interest he'd shown in you had been through insulting you and getting in your way. What was he, seven?

This was probably just another way of getting in your nerves. There was no reason for him to suddenly confess, after all. He'd already gotten a job at your dad's bakery — the most renown in town. What else could he possibly be after?

You scoffed at the thought, opting to put it in the back of your mind as you finished off the last few cupcakes and boxed them to prepare them for pickup.

Turning around with the boxed cupcakes in hand, you just so happened to make eye contact with Mingyu as he prepared some dough across the room. His annoyingly short sleeves gave perfect view of his strained arms as he battered at the mixture.

You let your eyes wander to his muscular arms for a mere half second, but that was enough for Mingyu to catch you with a smirk and a wink, flexing a little extra just to piss you off. Your eyes rolled as you looked away, but you were pretty sure you felt yourself flush a bit.

Mingyu's looks had been something you'd always attempted to ignore, but fuck, you suddenly felt all the more aware of them after his stupid confession.

Confession, if you could even call it that.

~

It didn't take you long to entirely disregard Mingyu's mind games. No stupid allusion to a crush would get you out of focus, especially not now.

Upon your return from being away at culinary school, your dad had begun instilling more and more trust in you to take care of the shop. As time passed, he'd occasionally be absent in order to test your skills as a trustworthy employee. You were sure even more responsibilities were to fall on your lap soon, and you were hopeful that was the case. You'd performed well so far, and Mingyu's presence was not going to deter that progress.

That instance, however, had not been the only time in which Mingyu decided to mess with your head. Gone were his boyish attempts at bothering you, the many that you'd gotten used to throughout the years. No, now he'd decided to play nice. He decided he'd be helpful and some sick version of charming that would have any other girl swooning.

But not you. You knew better. You weren't sure what game he was playing at, but you weren't going to fall for it like every other person in his vicinity.

Sure, maybe you looked like a dick to everyone else around you, constantly shooting Mingyu down when he'd try and help you out in the kitchen, but they didn't know about your history together. Mingyu had always made it so that you'd be painted as the mean girl. He'd get in your way, sabotage you, question your skills. But he'd always do it in an ingenious way that left you dumbfounded, looking ungrateful and just plain mean.

So when he suddenly decided to play nice, both for any onlookers and for you, it was difficult for you to actually take him seriously.

But still, you couldn't deny the effect his confession had had on you. You might've disregarded it as a simple play of his, but it still remained in your head, itching at you every time he so much as walked into the bakery.

"Sup, babe. Need help with that frosting?"

Speak of the devil.

Not even facing away in a lone corner of the bakery as you worked on a menial task could he take the hint.

"What are we making?", he tried again, now invading your personal space as he peaked at what your hands were working on.

"Is silence an option?"

"You know I'll just keep bugging you til you answer me. Make it easier for the both of us."

His head was now low enough for his chin to rest on your shoulder. His annoyingly strong arms were resting on the counter in front of you. One of them was conveniently rounding your body as he reclined on the counter. It was a pain to admit even to yourself, but the proximity made you lose focus.

God, what was wrong with you?

You'd always known Mingyu to he attractive. Sue you, okay? But his annoying personality was always in the way of any possible attraction you could've had for him. It wasn't until his stupid, idiotic, unnecessary, unprofessional, annoying, fake confession that you'd begun feeling this way. His constant suggestive stares and proximity were not helping your case either.

"Hmm, you need more strength. The consistency's gonna be all off if you do it like this. Here, let me ..."

Then his hands held onto yours, guiding you as you whisked the butter into a creamy consistency.

You couldn't even react. Your fight or flight reaction failed you, instead choosing to freeze at his touch.

Had you ever touched his hand before?

"See? It's like this. You should just use the electric whisk, that way you don't need all this strength- Oh, shit, am I hurting you?"

He backed off a bit, taking note of your frozen state. Fuck. If he noticed you were actually flustered, you were done for.

"No, just get off me, god," you huffed as a cover.

Mingyu scoffed at this, going back to helping you upon realizing he hadn't actually been doing any more harm than usual.

"You make it kinda hard to be nice sometimes, you know? But that's fine. I'll keep doing it. When you least expect it, you won't even remember hating me anymore," he sounded sure of himself.

Now was your turn to scoff, hands working on the frosting despite Mingyu practically doing all the work for you, "What makes you so sure?"

He took a moment to himself to chuckle.

"You're breaking down. Two weeks ago you never would've let me this close to you," he leaned right into your ear for the next part, "It's nice, isn't it? When you're not in denial?"

That's when you finally pushed him off, huffing at his boldness.

"I'm still your boss. Get your ass out of here and get to work."

That was the best cover you could come up with. He had been right. You'd been letting him get away with more and more as the days passed, and now he was messing with your head.

"Yes, ma'am," he was smirking. Your back was facing him, but you knew him well enough to know.

The job in front of you was practically done. Anything else would be overkill and you knew this, but he'd gotten into your head again. His mere presence had distracted you. Again. And the worst thing of all was that he'd been right. You were wearing down. Becoming more susceptible to his flirtatious advances and even forgetting why you hated him in the first place.

Mingyu had never deliberately hurt you in all those years you'd known him, nor had you him. In reality, it had all been a childish feud you'd grown far too used to to ever let go. But at the same time, giving in to him made you feel weak. You couldn't let some stupid charm break you down so easily.

You had to stay strong, even if that meant embarrassing yourself in front of Mingyu every once in a while.

The next development of your reaction to his shamelessness had been the worst. It made you feel like you were existing outside your body, watching yourself slowly crumble under the extra attention he'd been giving you.

By this point, not only were you constantly flustered at his proximity, but you found yourself affected even when he wasn't around. All it took was a few more suggestive glances and the occasional gracing of skin as a lame excuse to pass by when the kitchen was crowded to get you thinking about him outside of work.

You'd even come to dream of him, waking up at 3AM in a cold sweat, gasping for air at the vivid memories of what'd he'd done in your imagination. Seeing him after such instances made you an even bigger mess in the kitchen. It affected your work at times, causing you to require even more unwarranted help for him, thus being in closer proximity and continuing the endless cycle.

The first time it happened was the worst of all. You hadn't known how to handle it. How to behave around him when your mind was clouded with false memories of a Mingyu that didn't exist. It was your first time embarrassing yourself in front of him. Your usual collected demeanor, able to fire back at him without a second thought, was frozen in place.

You'd avoided him all day, knowing you'd lose focus the moment you met his eyes. The way he'd touched you in that dream was between you and God. Even if you liked to deny it, Mingyu was a smart man. He'd trace that look in your eye right back to dirty thoughts and never let you live it down.

Avoiding him was your only option.

But, of course, that was entirely impossible in such a small kitchen. That, and you were pretty sure god just didn't like you very much.

It was an accident. You had practically ran from him the moment he stepped foot in the bakery. You'd even managed to avoid you must of the day, but when your eyes accidentally met, you freaked out, dropping the batter you'd been making in the process.

It had, of course, caused a huge noise, halting everything else happening in the kitchen as Mingyu rushed to your side. You'd gotten your shoes dirty, with some batter even making it to your legs. It was fortunate you'd been wearing a knee-length dress, or else you would've needed a change of clothes.

Unlike what you'd expected, he didn't mock you. He got attention away from you, picking up after you and taking you to the back in order to help you clean up. You were mortified, knowing that the cause of the mess had been the same boy kneeling in front of you, cleaning you with a few rags he'd taken from the kitchen.

Even your current predicament made you blush. He'd been on his knees in your dream too.

"Are you okay? You haven't said anything all day."

He broke the silence, finally looking up at you as he continued to rub at the leftover batter on your legs.

You looked away immediately. This was not a sight you could handle right now.

"It's nothing."

"Are you sure? I won't make fun of you. You've already given me enough ammunition, but I held back," he joked, "C'mon. Is something bothering you?"

Letting your eyes find him again, you gulped. His furrowed brows told you he meant it, but you were too distracted by everything else about him. He was wearing a very short-sleeved shirt, and his muscles popped a little extra due to their grip on your leg. The world just wasn't on your side today.

"Just distracted today, I guess."

"Oh. Well, can I take advantage of that, then?", he smiled, "I know I'm the one kneeling, but maybe I still have the upper hand."

He got up then, having finished cleaning you up. He then leaned down, hands on his knees to meet your height as you sat down. There was a glint of satisfaction in his eyes, almost as if he'd been reading your thoughts from the moment you walked in today.

"Are you distracted enough to say yes if I asked you on a date?", his fangs showed as he smiled.

Your eyes widened.

"What? What are you talking about?"

You didn't even process the words. Your mind was still busy thinking about him on his knees.

"No? Okay, I guess I'll try again tomorrow," one of his hands reached to your own, tracing it with his thumb teasingly before standing to his full height again, "I'll break you down soon enough. I'm sure you're aware of that."

With that, he left, clearly satisfied that he'd somehow numbed you. You weren't sure if that was the result of his usual cockiness, or if you'd been too obvious in your avoidance of him today, but it still made you flush.

He was right. He did have the upper hand.

It'd now been a little over a month since Mingyu had begun working at your father's bakery. It had also been only a month since his confession, which had been accompanied by endless heat on your cheeks and an embarrassing burning in your stomach.

Mingyu's flirting had persevered, with a mixture of subtle physical contact, pet names, longing stares, hell, he'd even caught you in a back hug a few times (his large frame dwarfing you from behind was something you prohibited yourself from thinking about after such instances). It was safe to say that you were now pretty convinced that your original assessment had been wrong.

Mingyu did genuinely like you. And he was not shy in his attempts to make you his.

He'd been nonchalant about it, but he'd asked you out a few times so far. When you'd reject him, he'd only chuckle, biting his lip and eyeing you up and down before leaving with satisfaction in his eyes. It was like your constant rejections kept him going. It was driving you insane.

Knowing someone like Mingyu — tall, handsome, intelligent, accomplished, etc. etc. etc. — was so into you was breaking you down little by little. It was safe to say that your attraction to him had grown with the passing of time. There was just something about his insistence that got to you (that and the yummy packaging he happened to come in).

It was winter at the time, which usually came accompanied by lots and lots of business. Whether it was for winter themed celebrations, or the holidays themselves, you received personalized orders quite often. Sometimes you'd even have to manage all the catering when it came to sweets.

Winter also came with its downsides. Such as sickness going around. The kitchen just so happened to be a place small enough for sickness to spread quite quickly. And it just so happened that most of your staff had fallen ill, including your father, who usually liked to oversee this specific time of the year with a watchful eye.

Down to four people, you'd have to handle most of everything on your own for at least the following week.

And, of course, Mingyu just so happened to be one of those people. That left you with Mingyu, yourself, the delivery boy, and some poor unsuspecting soul who'd have to bare witness to the tension that'd undoubtedly fill the bakery while you and Mingyu were there almost completely alone.

It almost made you feel bad for them.

Almost.

"Well, Lucy called in sick. It's just you and me now," was the first thing Mingyu said upon clocking in, already tying his apron behind his back — always tight enough to show off his godly form.

You had already been freaking out at the consistent decrease in healthy employees. This did not help your nerves at all. You were sure the grimace on your face must've shown it.

"W-what? Lucy's gone? We can't get all this work done with only three people, much less just us!", you felt yourself start to freak out.

Mingyu crossed the threshold of the kitchen then, hands going directly to your shoulders to direct your attention to him.

"Listen. I graduated with honors in culinary school, and so did you. We got this, okay? Your dad trusts you to be in charge for a reason," Mingyu reassured.

For once, there was no flirtation or teasing in his voice, but instead compassion.

Somehow, he managed to calm you down immediately. You almost fell for the care in his eyes and initiated a hug to express your gratitude.

Almost.

Snapping out of it, you took his hands off your shoulders and stepped away, huffing out an awkward 'yea, thanks' before walking over to get your own apron. All you got from Mingyu in response was a chuckle, leading you to believe he'd noticed your flustered state.

Whatever. You had more pressing things to worry about today.

~

Three hours into the day, everything was more calm. You'd gotten over the biggest hurdles of your current orders. There were a total of three large catering orders to fulfill, seeing as you'd closed down the shop due to illness suddenly falling to literally all of your employees.

As of now, you and Mingyu had a pretty good handle on it. You'd managed to work smoothly with each other while you didn't bicker.

Currently you were working separately, you decorating the frosting of a mass amount of cupcakes for a winter wedding while Mingyu stood at the opposing counter and worked on the cake, quietly humming some tune as he did so. It was calm and quiet. Quite odd for the two of you.

Suddenly, you felt a presence next to you. But you remained focused.

"You're kind of slow at this."

You rolled your eyes, ignoring him.

"I could help you," he sing-sang.

"Are you done with the cake already?"

"What can I say? I'm the best at what I do."

"Is this your plan to get me to like you back? Bug me until I break down?", you finally let yourself look to the side, being met with the sight of a very pleased Mingyu.

"Oh, no, I have way better plans for that."

He didn't say anything after that. Not until you felt a huge presence wrap itself around you from behind, once again taking a hold of your hands and beginning to guide your movements as you frosted the cupcakes with their intricate designs. You weren't sure why you let your body be limp and allow him to do as he wished, but you did so anyway.

Your body worked against you, leaning into him as he got closer to you by the second. It wasn't long until his mouth made it close enough to your ear, breath hitting it and resulting in a barely-there shiver.

"See? It's easier when I help you. Not so bad, is it?", he murmured.

You used your shoulder to nudge him away, creating some distance between you and scoffing at his boldness. You shuffled a few steps away, leaving him leaning against nothing as you continued to do your work. Maybe you were weak, but you would not let yourself fall so easily. That'd mean giving him all the power.

"C'mon. You know this isn't one sided. I've seen how you look at me," he chuckled in disbelief.

You continued to give him the cold shoulder while he took a spot next to you on the counter, a smirk on his face as you petulantly ignored him. It was clear to you he was entertained by the concept of chasing you. It was unfortunate that you also kind of enjoyed it.

Mingyu scoot over more and more by the second, not bothering to be subtle at all.

"So you're saying that these past twelve years have been a genuine feud to you? You actually hate me?", he didn't believe the words as he asked him, disbelief in his tone.

"Shut up, Mingyu."

His body fully faced yours now, only able to see your side profile as you continued to stubbornly work, your attempts in ignoring him decreasing by the minute.

"Well, it wasn't like that for me. I always kind of hoped we'd both come back home from college, fresh and new, and completely forget about the stupid games we played when we were kids," he took a few steps forward, "And I know that you want the same thing. Maybe you didn't plan for it to happen, but now you're changing your mind about me. I'm not an idiot. I know you better than you think."

"It's not like that," you finally turned to face him, exasperated, "It's the forced proximity. You're just getting in my head and-"

"Am I?", he cornered you once again, hands stopping your own from their movements.

"Or maybe I've always been in your head," he turned you to face him, completely crowding you against the counter and leaving not an inch of space between you. Your middles were connected and your chest went up and down in such deep breaths that your upper halves were almost touching.

"I think you want me too. And I think you never really hated me. It was all just in your head. Just a sick amount of sexual tension hidden by some stupid rivalry," his hands locked around your wrists, placing them flat on his chest as he dared lean down.

Contrary to the cold, unaffected facade you wanted to present to him, you gulped up at him. He'd been right with the 'sexual tension' bit. It had been bugging at you for days now, invading your time alone and even, on occasion, your dreams. And now that he stood so close to you, acknowledging that much as he stared down at you with full intent on following through with whatever tension was filling the room at the moment ... it had you heating up, to say the least.

But still, that stubborn part of you at the very back of your brain still insisted on attempting to hit the brakes one last time — even if it was the last thing you actually wanted to do.

"Mingyu-"

"You know, you've never actually rejected me. You've told me you hate me, that I'm the bane of your existence, that you hope I get fired, but you've never actually told me to stop," he interrupted, "So. Tell me. Tell me to stop. Tell me that no part of you wants me back and I'll stop."

He looked at you with a mixture of conviction and self-assuredness in his eye. As if he knew what the outcome of his challenge would be.

A few silent seconds passed. Your body was not cooperating with your mind. The former wanted to pull him down, close the distance and damn any work you had left to do. The latter, though, prevented you from even speaking. Your mouth opened slightly, but nothing came out.

Mingyu tilted his head to the side in amusement before putting you out of his misery. One of his hands left the counter where it had been bracketing you against it, coming up to your chin and tilting it upwards, challenging you even further.

"I know you. I know that stubborn brain of yours won't let you admit to defeat. It's one of my favorite things about you," he breathed against you, face close enough that his airy voice landed directly on your lips, "Which is why I'm going to do this for the both of us."

Nowhere in your mind had you ever expected Mingyu to kiss you softly. Up until a month ago, you had never even entertained the thought of it ever actually happening (except maybe once or twice in passing — moments you'd buried deep down due to your burning dislike for him). It didn't come as much of a shock when the first kiss he'd given you was filled with more passion than your body could handle.

Mingyu pressed up against you, with an aggression that suggested any amount of space between you offended him. His hands went to your waist, ensuring there was no escape from this (not that you wanted any). And in a similar fashion, you mimicked the fervor of his kiss, hands already pulling at his hair and earning groans of pleasure vibrating into your mouth.

It was very reminiscent of your relationship. It was a competition. An attempt to show the other who was better, who was in charge.

But as per usual, Mingyu just so happened to get the upper hand.

His lips traveled down to your jaw, finding your neck and leisurely making a home there. Heavy breaths were released by the two of you as you attempted to catch your breaths. Mingyu had started panting out words, but it took your brain a few moments before it could begin processing words after that kiss.

"Fuck ... Can't fucking stand being around you. You drive me insane," he groaned when his hips couldn't help themselves but begin a slow grind against your own.

You still couldn't say anything. Only embarrassing mewls and pathetic excuses for his name would leave your lips as his hands felt you up, the simple movement of his hips already making you lose your mind.

"Made me work so fucking hard for this," his lips found your ear, one had tilting your head to the side so he could bite and the lobe and lick at it teasingly, "But it was all worth it ... Look at you, being so nice and pretty for me."

A sigh left your lips at his whispers. Had your brain been at full function, you would've argued back, would've maybe tried switching your roles and taken charge. But, as embarrassing as it was to admit, turning off your brain and becoming a dumb, brainless version of yourself as he dry humped you to heaven was too enticing to pass up.

His hands made work of both your aprons within seconds, finding comfort under your shirt quickly after. The teasing touch of his cold fingers tracing your skin made your breath hitch, but still no coherent words left you. You continued to be limp against the counter, happy to be sandwiched by him.

"'m just gonna take this off ... Okay, baby? ... Yeah, see? Fuck, so pretty. Show up to work with this pretty thing? Shit ..."

That's how you ended up shirtless in your parents' bakery, a pretty lace number covering your breasts while Mingyu pawed at it with awe. His lips trailed down to your chest, kissing at the bare skin with a starved demeanor. Hands continued to play at your clothed breasts, with your hardened peaks receiving just enough stimulation to have your head falling back.

Mingyu nosed at your skin. His kisses were endless despite the limited skin available. Your mind felt dizzy at such stimulation so close to your nipples. You were aching for more.

Your back arched, pressing your chest closer to his lips and mewling when he took the hint, wrapping his lips around your nipple through the thin fabric of the bralette. Teeth toyed teasingly at you through the cloth, but it still had your eyes fluttering.

Fortunately for you, Mingyu was just as desperate as you for more direct contact, which led him to ripping off the flimsy piece of lace separating him from your breasts. A gasp was all you could do to complain, too distracted to actually scold him for his carelessness when his hands began to teasingly toy at your bare tits, giving you some stimulation, but still not what you were truly aching for.

But as soon as he started, he stopped, pulling an annoyed whine from you.

"Gyu-"

Disregarding you, he reached over to the frosting you'd been working with before he interrupted you. Swiping a few fingers through the cream, he brought his hand forward, causing your eyes to follow it as if entranced.

His movements led you to believe that he wanted you to suck the cream from his hands. Something which made you pulse down south, as embarrassing as it was to admit. But before his fingers reached your awaiting mouth, he redirected them towards his own, humming in exaggerated bliss as he sucked at his own fingers, eyes zeroing down on your face.

Your eyes may have expressed some annoyance, but you both knew you were aching for him.

"Mm, it's good," he hummed, "Wanna try?"

You made it. You knew it was good. But you nodded regardless. You wanted to taste it. Taste him.

He kissed you again, tongue going directly into your mouth and passing any remnants of it from his tongue to yours. Meanwhile, you froze, shirtless, waiting for something, anything else, while he abused your mouth with his tongue.

Embarrassingly enough, you couldn't help but try and suck any sweetness out of his tongue, moaning into his lips as he reacted to you, a slight smirk forming against your face.

"Good, huh?," he smiled satisfied once he pulled away, "But I think it'd taste better if I ..."

Then you felt a sudden coldness on your chest, making you gasp at the cold feeling on your burning skin.

The bastard had smeared frosting on your tits.

Your breath became even heavier than it already was. The falling and rising of your chest said everything your horny brain couldn't muster out. And similarly, Mingyu's breath hitched at the sight, eyes glued directly to your tits with eyes that told you he was pained to not have you in his mouth at this very moment.

So then he remedied that problem.

He started off teasingly, as he always did. His tongue was tentative as it made contact with your cream-battered nipple. The tip of his tongue circled at it, finishing off with what you could only call sheer desperation as he wrapped his mouth around it, suckling at it until nothing was left and refusing to stop there.

One of his hands gripped at your waist harshly, insistent on keeping you folded against him while the other held onto your tit, angling it towards his mouth so he could continue uselessly cleaning it from the mess he'd made. The same happened to your other breast, licking, biting and sucking to the point where you had trouble remaining standing.

"Tastes way better like this," he mumbled with a mouth full of tit.

You'd never seen him like this. So depraved and insistent on making out with your breasts. The usually put-together Mingyu was gone, instead replaced by what embodied the spirit of a hormonal teenager. His groans of pleasure made your head fall back, acting as if he were the one receiving the pleasure. Multiple times he went back for more cream, teasing your nipples with his fingers as he smeared it on you before continuing to clean it up with his tongue.

"Fuck. Thought about doing this so many times. All the dirty, depraved things I've been wanting to do to you in this kitchen," he sighed once he took a break, puffing out a warm breath against the abused skin.

Your head was fully empty by now. There was nothing but hot air swimming up there. Mingyu had made you a useless version of yourself, uncaring about the poise you were supposed to display in your workplace and only wanting to offer yourself up to him to do whatever he wanted.

His lips trailed their way up, hands replacing where his lips had just been, and reconnected your mouths, humming in pleasure at touching you. His hips began moving with yours, forcing you against the counter while your tongues squelched with one another.

"Wanna fuck you. Do you think your dad'll fire me if I fuck you in here?"

"Don't care," you huffed, hands going to his jeans and haphazardly undoing the belt, "I'll fire you if you don't."

He chuckled mid kiss, "Don't worry, pretty. I'll fuck you. We're going to have to work overtime cleaning up from all the dirty things I'm going to do to you."

Aiding you in the removal of his pants, he lowered them just enough to pull his dick out of his boxers, groaning when you took hold of it and began playing with it. The size had your eyes rolling. You'd always assumed, on lonely nights under your sheets, that Mingyu would be well endowed. He was a perfect 10 in every other area of his life, so of course he'd have a big dick. But knowing that the monster you were currently holding in your hand — not even able to circle your entire hand around it — would be breaking its way inside you made you shudder.

In retaliation to your touches, he did the same to you, forcing your pants down to get easy access to your wetness and groaning when he found a mess under your panties.

"This wet, baby? Just kissed you a little and you're this wet for me? I thought you hated me," he gave you a cocky look as his knuckle pressed onto your clit, adding some pressure as he circled it.

You gasped out your response, calling him a dick and squeezing at his tip to get him to shut up.

He must've either taken the hint or taken it as a challenge, opting to readjust his hand so he could push in two fingers, managing to push you onto the counter whilst finger fucking you. The speed of his fingers was precise, hammering in and out of you and curling at the perfect time, hitting that one specific spot inside you that made your voice go a few notes higher.

You couldn't form any words, barely able to keep working him in your hand either. You were completely lost to the pleasure, especially when his mouth climbed back down and went back to your overly sensitive tits. They were swollen and completely abused with spit, but his attention was still more than welcomed.

"Need you to cum before you take me, okay, pretty?," his request was muffled against your breast.

"Want it now," you whined, hips uselessly grinding into his hand.

"Shh. You'll have it, pretty girl. Just, fuck, need you to cum for me just this once, okay? I'll give it to you, I promise. I'll give it to you and never stop," it was easy for Mingyu to lose himself in his dirty talk, but you adored every word that left his lips. He could threaten you with pleasure all he wanted, you'd take it the same way you'd taken all his snark against you all these years.

When he introduced another finger to the mess between your legs, you finally came. You were sure the sight was as messy as it felt, your body arching impossibly closer to the source of pleasure, head thrown back and internment gasps leaving your lips. Your fingers dug into his muscles, unsure of when you'd clawed his shirt off but thankful for the access to his skin.

You were welcomed back to reality by uncharacteristically soft kisses pressed to your neck, moving their way up to your cheeks and then your lips, ending with a pleased hum.

Your eyes finally opened, taking in the boy in front of you, practically fully nude and with his skin now full of scratch marks (courtesy of you), skin sweaty and hair an after-sex mess.

"Fuck, you're so fucking hot."

He chuckled at your bluntness, eyebrows raising in amusement.

"Yeah, pretty. I think you're pretty hot too. Always thought so. Prettiest girl I've ever seen," he managed to turn it into something soft despite the shared knowledge that his aching cock was currently pressed against your thigh.

"You'll fuck me now, right?", you put your arms on his shoulders, pulling him towards you with seduction in your eyes.

"Y-yeah, I- shit, yeah, baby."

Scooting to the edge of the counter, you wrapped your legs around his waist, forcing him as close as physically possible before reaching down to his hardness. His arms held onto your legs, pulling you towards him and angling your hips so your cunt could face him better.

Deciding to be a tease this time around, you held onto his dick, circling his tip around your clit and sighing at the hot, wet stimulation, earning a similar reaction from him.

"Hmm, fuck. Put it in before I lose my mind."

That was good enough for you.

It took a few moments to get his torturously big length inside you, earning constant cries from you followed by grumbles from Mingyu. He buried his head in your neck, suckling at your skin any time you pulsed a little harder as he intruded inside you.

"Warmest fucking cunt, god," he sighed, "Been wanting to feel you since high school ... Prettiest cunt, oh, fuck. Can I move? Hm? Need to move, baby, tell me I can."

This was the first time you'd ever heard Mingyu beg. And as much as you wanted to bask in it, maybe get him on his knees, pleading to get his fill of you, you were far too gone to do anything more than whine at him to move, to break you and render you useless.

Your mouth dropped open when he began hammering at you, hands wrapped around your thighs and pulling you as close as possibly. His inhuman strength managed to move your body in sync with his thrusts, doing all the work himself as you became a limp doll for him to use. All you provided were cries of his names and red lines drawn down his back. But he seemed to enjoy it. Each scratch, each squeal of his name was met with groans and with an extra harsh thrust into you.

"G-gyu, fuck, just like that. Oh, fuck, please," you had no idea what you were pleading for, but you needed more.

You'd never felt this needy. Never felt such a carnal necessity for a man like you did for Mingyu. It felt like a full circle moment. Your disdain for Mingyu had left you weeks ago, replaced by a sheer thirst for him, but not only sexually. Even as he humped into you, you felt an sense of completeness from being in his hold.

And then, before you knew it, your second orgasm consumed you, causing you to tighten around him and earning an uncharacteristically high cry from him. His hips sped up, desperate to reach his own high, hands practically pulling you off the counter to push your hips against his own. The repetitive slapping of skin was loud and resonated into the empty room.

"Gonna fill you up, baby. Gonna get you all pretty and creamy for me," he huffed out between breaths, "Wanna see me dripping down your legs before I clean it all up for you."

And he fulfilled his promise, squirting his cum deep inside you with a groan of your name. Once finished, he finally deflated against you, loud as he attempted to regain his breath back.

There was some silence for a while. Maybe because you both needed time to learn how to breathe again, or maybe because you were both still in shock at the intensity of what'd just happened. Regardless, you held onto each other, uncaring that you were still very much naked in what was supposed to be a public place, creating a safety hazard in your workplace.

"Well, that was ..."

"Yeah," you agreed.

He pulled his head away from your neck, offering you a bashful smile. His hands stayed on you, though, caressing at your skin with a contrasting softness.

"Does this mean you'll go on a date with me, or am I fired for jumping you in the kitchen?"

You laughed, genuinely so. This was probably one of the very rare times in which you did so in front of Mingyu, but you meant it. No longer did you feel like scowling at his presence.

You realized now that his feelings had been mutual. Too many half-baked inferences to his feelings were had in the throes of passion for you to question it anymore.

And maybe the feeling was mutual.

"Yes, Mingyu. I'll let you take me on a date."

to read short 2k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my svt monthly tier on patreon!

content: smut, afab reader, mentions of previous semi-public sex, nipple play (m receiving), dry humping, penetrative sex, mentions of blowjob, food play (frosting), etc.

wc: 426 (teaser); 2007 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"I'm very proud of the work the two of you did last week," your dad began, "The workload was too big for two people, but you two managed to get it done. Great job."

When your dad had called you and Mingyu over for a private meeting after last week's events, you had to admit, you were terrified.

After that first day alone playing around in the kitchen and wasting perfectly useful frosting in activities you could never reveal to your father, you ended up having to work the entire rest of the week alone with Mingyu. And it was safe to say that the events of that first day repeated time and time again. The two of you made use of the empty space, disregarding any possible health violations.

Fortunately, your fears of your father possibly finding you out were alleviated by his sudden praise.

You had to agree. It was surprising that you and Mingyu had been able to get all that work done. Not only due to the impossible amount of work, but also because of the constant distractions you provided for the other.

Standing next to you, you could feel Mingyu's enormous sigh of relief at your father's words. Before making your way into his office, the poor boy's tanned skin had gone pale at the paranoia of what was to come.

"Maybe when this one takes over for me, you could he her second in command," he turned to Mingyu with a smile, "The two of you make a great team. And for your hard work, I'd like to give you the day off. Full pay, and you can also take one of the leftovers cakes from last night."

Before you could respond with wonder, your dad spoke up again.

"Here. Take my car keys. You kids go have fun," he patted your back as he walked away, leaving the two of you in his office as he went back to the bustling kitchen.

The two of you stood there, not having expected such sudden reward. It had only been one day since everyone came back to work, joining you and Mingyu with the heavy workload that always accompanied winter, yet you were suddenly being offered time off and free pastries.

"I think your dad wants us to have se-"

"Don't finish that sentence," you slapped at his chest, earning a wince.

"I mean. A car, money, cake? Do you remember what we did last time we had cake at our disposition? I ate it off of your-"

"Mingyu!"

"Okay, fine!"

...

find the 18+ continuation on patreon!

if you have trouble finding it on there, just let me know!!<3

[clownzaf]

No one in the family understands the connection between Tim and Talia, not even Damian.

Talia would be in Gotham to visit Damian and will fight and disagree with every movement of Tim’s like a disappointed mother, but the moment Tim get distressed or even a little bit upset Talia will be tripping onto herself to be with the boy.

They think Talia adopted the boy like she did with Jason.

They absolutely don’t know that Tim has long ago accepted Ra’s invitations for dinner, (even if it’s only to ensure the safety of his family and friends from the league of assassins) and Ra’s has long ago since pseudo-adopted Tim. He will call to ask about his day, and give shovel talks to his partners via assassins, and just simply drop to his apartment to watch a movie.

He is still trying to get Tim as his heir but eventually decided to drop the ball (for now). He kept Tim tho, at this point he simply grew fond of the boy.

One time Tim spent a entire week training with the league—It was a plan of Ra’s to make him see what he could have if he joined him and Tim agreed only for the extra training and maybe he could get some extra intel just in case— and in that week he became friends with Talia. They were practically siblings right now and it was useful for both parties. Tim would tell Talia all about Damian, even the specific details (Like his favorite breakfast food, one thing in particular he gained interest recently or if he made any new friends in school) and Talia would train him to the best of his capabilities. It also made “Family dinners” a lot less awkward. He has come to be quite fond of Ra’s over the time but sometimes it was better to have someone a little bit younger to talk to and not just the 6000 years old man.

So, now every time Talia drops to the manor to say hi—Knowing things about Damian or the family that she shouldn’t know— she always ends up in a corner watching TikTok’s in Tim’s phone and petting his hair like it’s something that happens everyday.

Damian and Jason were furious about this, it was THEIR mom/mentor and it was unfair for Tim to take that away like everything else in their life.

But they don’t suspect anything else until one day they are invited to have a formal dinner with the Al Ghul’s, just to find Timothy Drake-Wayne (Al Ghul) already in the table dressed in a green silk robe with golden accents chatting with the ninjas in the walls like they are good friends and kicking Ra’s down the table.

It was in fact the most uncomfortable dinner ever, even more so because Tim refused to give them more information about any of this more than a “I’m still in the good side don’t worry”

[nightingale-prompts]

Batboy Meets Batfam

First | Previous | Next

"Relax Batty, it's just one dinner." Dick parked the car inside the Wayne family manor's garage.

"But I hate billionaires. Can't we just go to Batburger and go home." Danny whined slumping in his seat.

"What's so bad about it? He's your grandfather now." Dick asked.

"The last billionaire I met was the only other of my kind. And he was awful. Tried to kill me, clone me, marry my mom, kill my dad, ruined my life. That last one was something he achieved." Danny's wings materilized and wrapped around him as he sulked.

"I know it's hard Danny and I can't promise no one will ever try to hurt you like that again but I can promise I'll stick by you. I can also promise to kick the butt of anyone who tries messing with you." Dick said ruffing Danny's black hair that popped out from under his leathery wings.

"Still don't wanna go." As Danny said this he began to shrink.

Dick sighed, he had learned recently that Danny was a shifter of some kind. It was useful to hide his identity but he would also use it to get out of doing things. When Dick told Danny to clean his room or study Danny would shrink to the size of a toddler and say "Im baby" to get out of it. Dick is ashamed to admit that he's let Danny get away with it because baby bat pictures are precious and worth their weight in gold. He has a wallet full of pictures now.

But Dick has to put his foot down this time.

"Danny being little won't get you out of this. Do you really want to meet your new family like this?" Dick asked.

Danny huffed and turned in his now ill-fitting hoodie the size of a 3-year-old.

"Alright come on." Dick gave up scooping the toddler-sized teen under one arm and walking into the manor. "Alfred still has Bruce's old baby clothes somewhere."

"Ahh!"Danny yelped.

"What? Don't want that? If you show up as a baby, they will think you are one. You know Tim Drake is going to be there. He's going to be in the same school as you. Do you want him to think you're a baby?" Dick said holding the kid at eye level.

In surrender, Danny grew back to his normal size.

Dinner was oddly quite as everyone studied Danny closely.

Barbara was the least concerned as he talked about work with Dick and pushed Danny a bowl of strawberry salad. She wanted good aunt points. Danny would love her the most.

Cassie studied Danny's features. It was almost creepy how much he looked like Dick. She'd believe it if Dick was his biological father. Except for the eyes. Danny had a very particular eye color they were blue in the center but kind of had a green ring on the iris. The condition was called central heterochromia and it's rare.

Damian wasn't glaring like he usually would. He looked almost wide-eyed at Danny but remained silent.

Jason was absent as always apparently he was moved by Dick's announcement.

Then again Danny was supposed to be a surprise.

Tim and Danny seem to strike a cord immediately. Danny despite how silly he was the teen was very intelligent. Tim wasn't as subtle as he wish, mostly because Danny cornered him in conversation.

"So you're more used to living in a small town?" Tim smiled politely.

"Hmm? I didn't say that exactly. I said Im just new to the city." Danny responded.

"So you're from a different city? Metro or Star?"

"Neither, It's nowhere you'd know. Not really notable."

"You're going to be family soon, of course i want to know."

They went back and forth for a while. Tim was probably irritated after finding nothing about Danny's identity. And that meant Bruce was probably suspicious as well. Dick had to bet that Bruce's overactive paternal instincts would overwrite his need to investigate.

"So Danny, have you heard of the new vigilante in Bludhaven? The one they call Batboy?"Bruce asked wiping his mouth with a napkin as he ate.

This was the question Danny was waiting for.

"Of course! Have you seen the pictures on social media! Everyone is talking about him. Like, he has wings like a bat. Do you know what I'd do to get that power?! I mean he's not Superman but come on its so cool. We don't have metas-Is that what you call them? Yeah, metas. We don't have them where I'm from so I didn't think I'd ever met one. Dick said he met him the last time he saw Nightwing and promised to get me a picture but he didn't and he said he forgot." Danny put on a pretty convincing fanboy routine.

"I see. So Dick told you he's friends with Nightwing?" Bruce probed.

"He didn't need to tell me. Nightwing found me after I ended up in Bludhaven. I was pretty banged up and he parched me up and took me to the police station. I tried to leave but he told me that Detective Grayson would look out for me." Danny said digging through his salad to pick out the fruit and nuts.

"What about your parents?" Bruce asked softly.

"Bruce," Dick said in warning.

"Its fine...my parents didn't want me anymore. I can't go back. They'd probably kill me. But it doesn't matter anymore, they aren't here." Danny said stiffly feeling uncomfortable for saying a bit of truth.

They say the best way to lie is to have a bit of truth. Danny disagreed. The best way to lie is to have no truth, so they can't tell the difference.

Dick pulled the teen closer as Danny pulled his hands inside this hoodie hiding one of the burn scars on his arm but just enough to show that they were there.

Bruce didn't say another word.

Damian seemed to make his mind up at some point and joined in the conversation.

"Do you eat meat, Nightingale? I've noticed you haven't touched anything with it." Damian sounded oddly cordial.

"Ew, no. I don't eat meat. My friend always said meat was murder and taught me about how evil slaughterhouses were. We once raided a local farm to-oop. I forgot there are detectives at the table. I promise I'm a law-abiding citizen and not an eco-terrorist...anymore." Danny smiled too innocently.

Damian nodded in understanding. They had found common ground. That still doesn't mean he liked Nightingale. But he couldn't fight him since he didn't seem to know anything about their vigilante lifestyle.

Damian had to begrudgingly admit that Danny's presence was welcome. Soothing even.

It didn't matter. He and Drake still had bigger plans. Finding out who this "Batboy" was. They just needed Dick give up some information about the bat metahuman.

Tim had his suspicions that it was Danny but Batboy had stark white hair with black streaks and green eyes. Not to mention wings.

They would have to agree to disagree.

"Danny you have to eat something other than fruit. Eat the rest of the salad." Dick tried to sound stern but caved almost immediately when Danny pretended he didn't hear that.

Bruce internally sighed. Does he step in and help or let Dick figure it out. How does one be a grandpa to a non-vigilante who you can't threaten with no patrols?

*Bonus*

Danny when he see fruit.

[champagnefountains]

LUCIFER MAGNE - H.H.

Prompt: Lucifer continuing to wear his wedding ring despite being in a relationship with you.

Genre: Angst and hurt; somewhat fluffy (but only for a brief while). Warnings: Swearing. Unhealthy relationship/coping mechanisms (?). Word count: 2.2k+

Lucifer had been courting you for a couple of months already, the King of Hell finally deciding it was time to make the two of you official. The tension was so incredibly thick, that even the hotel’s patrons were growing sick of having to watch the two of you dance aimlessly around each other. Charlie included. 

The past couple of months were more than delightful – Lucifer treated you like a Queen, taking you out almost every other night, having nice candle-lit dinners, and dancing the night away. And if you weren’t really feeling the glamour, the both of you would stay cuddled up against one another whilst watching some cliche rom-com. It was like a dream. It was perfect…well, almost. 

The very source of your concerns was the golden band that remained in Lucifer’s ring-finger. 

You knew about the heart-break and torment that Lucifer underwent following his separation with Lilith. Understandably, having been together for many decades and centuries, the King had a difficult time trying to move on. Even in the earlier stages of your relationship, when he had been comfortable confiding in you, it was evident that he still deeply cared for Lilith, despite her absence. 

You tried to be understanding – you really, really did. But every time you held his hand, the cold metal feeling against your fingers set a painful reminder that maybe he still hasn’t moved on completely. 

It filled you to the brim with self-doubt. Perhaps he was just keeping you around just to fill in the void she had left. And if that were the case, were you even doing a good enough job in that? Hypothetically, if Lilith were to waltz in front of the hotel’s doors one day, was he going to throw you off to the side and run away with her? What if he’d grow bored of you all of a sudden?

Questions such as these would linger at the back of your head constantly, and as they did, you would cast a longing gaze in his direction. When he catches your eye, he would automatically send a smile your way, pearly-whites in full display. It would make you smile without fail, because how could it not? You loved that dashing smile of his. But everyday, you wondered if you could continue to maintain that smile in your life. 

One night in particular, during dinner at one of Hell’s finest establishments, Lucifer noticed that something was off. Your smile hasn’t been reaching your eyes, and you seemed like you were anywhere but here. Your eyes had a distant look to them and whenever he’d ask if something was wrong, you would become dismissive. It concerned him a lot. 

“Darling, are you alright?” Lucifer carefully asked once you both made it to the front porch of the hotel. “Was it the food? Was it not to your liking? Because the chicken was a bit off to be honest, it could’ve been a bit more seasoned–” 

“Luci,” you intervened and grabbed his hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “The food was great, really. It’s just…” As your voice trailed off, you were quick to feel that damn ring around his finger. Because, of course you did, and it didn’t help your mood at all. You force out a huff and pull away, causing the demon’s frown to deepen, “I’m feeling a little under the weather tonight – probably just lacking a bit of sleep.” 

Lucifer scanned your face all over, his brows furrowed in worry. “Well…I guess you have been working harder for the hotel recently.” There had been some truth in that – after all, there had been an influx of sinners in the hotel since the cancellation of this year’s extermination. But he didn’t seem to stop there, not fully convinced by your reasoning, “...But are you sure that’s all, my dear?” 

You looked at him, surprised, as if suddenly caught red-handed. He was quick to pick up on that too, confirming his suspicions and making him all the more nervous.

 “What are you trying to say?” You ask. 

“Well, i-it’s just that I noticed that you’ve been acting a bit off recently,” he splutters. “And not only tonight. You’ve become a bit more…I don’t know, distant with me. And it worries me, y’know? I just…I really, really care about you. A lot.” He almost looks defeated as he rubs anxiously at his nape, “And if I’m being honest, it scares the absolute shit out of me that what I’m doing now isn't right."

Your brows crease in confusion, “...What are you talking about?” 

Lucifer closed his eyes, dragging a palm against his face as an exaggerated groan leaves his lips. “Look, I’m not exactly experienced with all…all this – the one woman I’ve ever been in a committed relationship with left me. Just like that!” He lets out a humourless snort. “A-And I don’t know what I did to make her leave and I for sure don’t want to make that same mistake again. I…I want to be assured that I’m making you happy.” 

Lucifer looks up at you, eyes filled with warmth, as he places a gentle hand against your cheek. He breaks the distance between you to press his forehead against yours. You automatically lean against him out of habit. “I don’t want to lose you. And if I’m doing something wrong, tell me. Please, don’t shut me out.” He pleads, his voice almost falling into a whisper. The unexpected confession left you speechless, your chest feeling all the more tight. It was making you feel worse than you already did. 

You let out a shaky sigh, trying to keep the pending tears at bay. “Luci, I’m sorry. I didn’t know…I-I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. Trust me when I say that you’ve been nothing more than a gentleman, and every moment we’ve spent together has been magical. I appreciate you so, so much, and I could never, ever ask for anything more.” 

You shut your eyes tight, shame filling your very core. “I’m just being a little silly–”

“No, no. Don’t say that, darling. Please tell me what’s going on. It’s okay,” Lucifer encourages softly, his thumb rubbing reassuringly against your cheek. 

You grab his wrist and gently pull your face away from him. With the hand on his arm, you slide it down to grab at his own, bringing it up into view and in-between the both of you. Almost instantaneously, both your eyes lie on the golden band on his finger – to Lucifer, it suddenly clicks. But he couldn’t help but feel an internal conflict brew within him. 

“I-I know how much that ring and Lilith means to you. I really do and I feel awful having to feel this way, but I just…I can’t help it,” you mutter, finally allowing the first couple of tears to fall, “I-I often find myself counting the days and hours when you’ll suddenly realise that I will never be good enough for you. It feels like I’m constantly having to compete with her–heck, what am I even saying? I know I’ll never be able to compete – because, I mean, come on. I'm a nobody!” You chuckle tearfully whilst gesturing to yourself with a free hand.

“And I don’t think I’ll ever understand how you’d ever settle for someone like me. I’m not nearly as important, nor am I the best-looking demon out there. I’m just me.”

“But Lucifer, whenever I’m with you, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. I smile more. Laugh more. I even enjoy the little things more. And I don’t want that to go away. And I’m just hoping– Satan, I’m fucking hoping that it’s the same for you. And if it is, then how long is that going to last with me?” 

Completely shocked, Lucifer watched in silence as his love sobbed their heart out in front of him. He wanted nothing more than to go and wrap you in his warm embrace, and whisper reassurances and hush down your cries. Because, you were right – you did make him happy. So unbelievably happy. You had been the light that casted away the shadows in his darkest times. And yet, why? Why did he remain where he stood, unmoving as tears pathetically poured from his eyes? Why wasn’t he saying anything?

There was a brief, stagnant moment of contemplation where the both of you just stood there. It was the realisation that Lucifer didn’t make any effort to formulate some form of response, that disappointed you even further. It only made the doubtful voice in your head louder. 

It was you who ultimately decided to make the first move, wiping tiredly at your reddened face as you glanced at the hotel’s door. “I’ll be heading off first. I’ll be in the guest room tonight – it’s been a long day,” you raspily say, hiccuping as you pushed through the doors and disappeared into the hotel, leaving Lucifer alone outside. 

As you entered the hotel, you immediately noticed Husk’s presence by the bar, who had been polishing some glasses by the counter. In front of him was Angel, who was making some sweet, small talk with him. They were both alerted by your entrance as the doors flew open, and as Angel was about to greet you in his usual playful fashion, his voice fell flat when he saw the depressed state you were in. 

“Woah, there. What the hell happened to you? You look like shit,” Angel asked, standing to meet you half-way, “I thought you and Short-King were out on a date. Did something happen?” 

“We were but we had a fight or something,” you tiredly shrugged as you walked past the arachnid and plopped yourself down on one of the bar stools. You swirled yourself on the seat to face Husk. “Give me the strongest shit you have. And make it double,” you waved absently at the feline-demon, who raised an incredulous brow at your bluntness. “Damn, it must be that serious considering you don’t even drink,” he grumbles as he turns to start brewing a glass of something, “...do you wanna talk about it?"

You contemplated his offer for a second and realised that you did. For the next five or so minutes, you ended up recounting everything that happened earlier tonight, all the while shedding even more tears. Angel was kind enough to supply you with a mountain of tissues to cry into.

“Well, it sounds to me that your man’s got a whole lot of thinking to do,” Husk clicks his tongue. “But what you’re feeling is completely valid.” “Yeah, who the fuck wears their ol’ wedding ring while dating someone else? What an asshole,” Angel hisses. 

“S-So you guys think there’s a possibility that he might consider ending things with me?” You question dejectedly. Husk and Angel share a look of uncertainty, suddenly feeling the need to be careful of their words. Because they genuinely weren’t sure.

“I–Look, that’s not something we should be focusing on at the moment– I mean, of course, let’s hope that that’s not where this is going. I just think he needs some space to think things through properly,” Husk says. 

“And I know I was talking a whole lot of shit before but let’s take the benefit of the doubt and look at things from his point of view. He was in that boat for more than a couple thousand years. And shit, that’s a lot of fucking years.” Angel points out. “It might take him a while longer to adjust to that, y’know?” Angel places a hand on your shoulder, grinning at you reassuringly, “But there’s one thing for sure that myself and everyone else knows: the guy loves yah, toots. Anyone with eyes can see it, and you guys are really fucking disgusting about it too–ow!” 

Angel suddenly lunges forward against the counter as one of Husk’s wings swipes down to slap the back of his head. “‘The fuck was that for?! It’s true, ain’t it?!” Husk rolled his eyes at his dramatics, before turning back to you. “He’s right, though. Just…just give him a bit more time. I’m sure in the end, the both of you will be fine.” 

Meanwhile, Lucifer decided to head back to his own castle, wanting to be alone to sort through his cluttered thoughts. He was beyond upset with himself for making you cry like that, because it was the last thing he wanted. But he was more upset at the fact that he didn’t know how to navigate through his emotions, despising that he found himself second guessing his feelings. 

As you explicitly implied, was he really still unconsciously longing for Lilith? Was that why he kept wearing his ring? Why was he still wearing it? Was it just for his own comfort? But why would he need it anyways? You were there, weren’t you? All he had said to you tonight, he was contradicting himself, wasn’t he? Perhaps he’s scared. Maybe he isn’t ready yet. But, why would he be with you if he didn’t think so? What exactly were you to him? And what exactly was Lilith to him now?

Lucifer was a complete mess, and that night he couldn’t find a single blink of sleep as these thoughts plagued him. And neither could you, as you scrutinised every aspect of your relationship, thinking of what this could mean for the both of you, moving forward.

Yeah…perhaps you both needed some time. 

Chapter II [x]

[supercutszns]

Luke x reader where a girl, daughter of Aphrodite, flirts with him and insults the reader, causing her to avoid Luke, but later he manages to find her and confesses that he actually likes them... I don't know if they should already be together or not, but I believe in you!!! you write very well :ooo

Sorry if the idea is bad or you wouldn't want to write something like that, if that's the case please pretend you never read this 🤡🤡🫶

true colours; luke castellan

wc + pairing: 3.6k, luke castellan x child of iris! reader

synopsis: everyone wants luke castellan, including you. curse your mother for getting your hopes up.

warnings: friends to lovers, reader is very insecure, bullying, lee fletcher & will solace cameo!! some angst with a fluffy ending

notes: thank you for the request!! as always this is longer than i anticipated but hope you like it :) i also combined it with another request for a child of iris reader (i also identify as a child of iris sometimes so i lovee writing for them) also i’m pretty sure lee + a lot of parts of this are ooc sorry but i havent read the books in about a year so hopefully everything’s fairly accurate!🌈

You knew this summer would be different because your mother sent her wishes twice as much. On the first day of July, when children flood into Camp Half-Blood like a hive of wild bees, a rainbow always lights up the sky. 

This year, there were two. 

As a child of Iris you’re technically supposed to be in the Hermes cabin. But your love for art, for music, for fun, has made you a particular favourite of the Apollo cabin. Most of your friends are there. They tolerate you singing in your soft, often unsure voice. They love when you catch sunlight and filter it into prisms of colour on their cabin walls. 

You’d probably move in there permanently if it weren’t for Hermes. Or rather, his son.

Over the last few months, in the sticky summer heat, your mother knew you would fall in love. 

It's not any surprise you love Luke. Everyone loves Luke. A fact that's becoming more obvious every passing day. 

It used to bother you less. You’ve always been his meagre, hopeless friend, never any real competition to these girls. You’d basically taken yourself out of the running and instead decided to pine after him in the very back of your mind. A safe, deluded fantasy that would never happen. 

Until recently, where it seems less like a fantasy and more like a terrifying possibility. 

Over the past few weeks Luke has gone out of his way to be sweet to you. Or at least you think so. He’s spent extra time talking to you at lunch, laughing at your half-formed jokes almost in earnest. At bonfires he saves you a seat, grabs you a marshmallow on occasion. You even made him a friendship bracelet of sorts—admittedly a little ugly—but he’s never taken it off. Not since the day you gave it to him. 

Not to mention helping you last week before the archery competition. His hands lingering over yours as he steadied your bow, the curls of his breath on the back of your neck when he stood behind you. 

“Don’t be nervous,” he says, a tinge of mirth in his voice. “You just steady your aim and first is as good as yours.”

(You came in fifteenth.)

You don’t want to say that it’s him weakening your aim, making your pulse beat out of your neck. His nose brushes against the back of your jaw as he leans forward and you smell the pine on his skin. Is this friendly? Is he this close on purpose? Are you delusional?

It’s all you’ve been thinking about these past few days. So when Luke Castellan’s endless admirers come to the forefront of your mind, you feel like all those moments of potential buildup have been ripped away. 

“You alright there, sunshine?” 

He takes you out of your spiral with a teasing lilt you love. When you look at him, his face is a shimmering warmth, complete with boyish smile. 

“Yep,” you reply, trying to ignore the nickname making your insides flutter even though you know he’s saying it ironically.

You’ve always had a gift for identifying colour. It’s the thing you pay attention to most. Something inherited from your mother, you suppose. So you’ve memorized the way Luke’s eyes melt in the sunlight. How his scar blends with his pinking cheeks when it’s hot outside. You never told him, and you probably never will, but you’ve painted him from memory quite a few times in the Apollo cabin—always with the excuse that you were practicing. It's so blatantly obvious you're in love with him there's no point in your friends bringing it up.  

The two of you are meandering around camp before dinner, a tradition Luke started early on in the summer. You talk about high points of your day (mostly you) or share nuggets of gossip you’ve heard around camp (mostly him). It's the thing you looked forward to every morning. A time when his words are just for you. 

Idle chatter flows as you keep walking. Sometimes your arm brushes his and you have the embarrassing urge to tug yours away. You do your best not to stare at him too long or laugh too loud at his jokes. 

“Hey, Castellan!” Someone calls. 

Luke’s head turns. Your heart plummets. A beautiful girl, Aphrodite cabin, you think, is heading towards you. She’s all honey-spun hair and dazzling pink lips, and it’s obvious she knows it. You don’t know her name. But Luke does. 

They fall into conversation the second she arrives. It’s just greetings, pleasantries, but there’s a coy smile on the girl’s face that betrays any sense of disinterest. “Heard you’re not too keen on pairing up with us for the Chariot Race next week. What gives?” Her tone is pouty and playful as she taps Luke’s shoulder. She side-eyes you, lips curling imperceptibly. “I’m sure you’ll have a better chance with us.”

He lets out a strained chuckle. “Dunno, just thought it was fine to switch it up.”

Just like that, you’re out of the loop again. More of her friends flock after her, and soon Luke is tangled in a whole other world. They’re all glowing with a kind of righteousness you only get when you’re popular. You know Luke has friends, tons of them. He's the leader of the cabin with the most campers. Not to mention assertive and gorgeous. His presence is so inviting it’s a challenge not to fall in love with him. 

So you can’t blame this girl, the one that keeps touching his arm and giggling. It’s not like you’ve staked your claim on Luke—no one even knows you exist. As much as you want him to be yours, you know you’ll never stop someone from taking him first. It’s your fatal flaw, you think. Cowardice. 

You end up sidelined completely. Watching him swathed in people more charismatic than you plants an ache deep inside you. All your wishful thinking feels sour now, a pipe dream, a bedtime story to help you sleep better. Somehow it hurts more knowing that it’s nobody’s fault but yours. These people can’t be doing this on purpose. It’s just who they are. It’s who you are—always a step behind, always daydreaming. You are your mother’s daughter, after all. Just a prism reflecting everyone around you. 

Eventually, one of the boys in the group takes notice of you. He’s not nearly as captivating as Luke is—you don’t find the colours of his eyes hold as much depth. There’s also a haughtiness when he looks at you. He sneers, “What the hell do you have on your face?”

It draws the attention of others in the group. You feel like a naked sculpture in an art gallery. “Uh, what?” You stammer. 

Some of them purse their lips. The girl with Luke lets a laugh slip. You’re pretty sure you look like an idiot, waiting there with your brows wrinkled in a daze. Their gazes keep flicking over to your cheek, so your hand flies up there before you can delay any more. When you press your fingers to the side of your face, they come away tacky and pink. Mortification constricts you.

Paint. It’s leftover, half-dried paint. The colour of Luke’s cheeks in the sun. 

“Oh,” you say dumbly. It’s drowned by snickers. All you can do is find Luke, the only face you know, and ask, “Why didn’t you tell me?” without sounding too hurt. 

You know you failed when your voice comes out wrong and his ebony brows push together. “I thought it looked—”

He never gets to finish because the golden girl laughs a little louder, the pink tones in her face a little darker. “Oh my Gods, you’re that Iris kid that’s always singing, right?” She giggles sharply, cornflower eyes darting between her friends. There’s something in there you can’t quite pick up on, until it flushes the pupils of all her friends, and they all grin with a secret knowledge they want you to see. “You’re, like, really good!” The girl simpers, but her bottom lip pulls between her teeth to soften another laugh. 

“Oh, so good!” Another friend piles on. 

Their passive-aggressive chuckles start to sound like hail on a window. You shift further away from them. Dirt slides beneath your shoe, and you long to kick up more of it, displace yourself, disappear. 

You don’t look at Luke. The giggly, flaxen girl has already turned back to him, and you’re sure he’s enthralled once more. You try to stir up the image of Luke’s closeness during archery practice, the lilac bruise on his knuckles when he angled your bow, but it doesn’t take. Now, it feels like you’ve dreamed it. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Luke leaning down to catch a whisper from the Aphrodite girl’s ear. The boy that first commented on your cheek leans closer to you again. He’s suffocatingly smug when he grins, “Why are you still here? Shouldn’t you go … wash that off? You don’t want to look like that at dinner.” He snorts. “For an Iris kid, you really aren’t good at taking a message.” 

If you were a more confident person, maybe you’d point out how that didn’t really make sense, or how stupid it sounded coming out of his mouth. But the sentiment of it wounds you, and you’re weak enough as is. 

"Guess you're right," you mumble. You wipe your face of paint as you leave. The memory of Luke’s skin stains you until you wash your hands off in the sink. 

You haven’t talked to him since. 

It’s been a few days of you avoiding him, and it’s hard to explain to anyone why you’ve been doing it. How do you tell the truth? Luke Castellan is a work of art and you are … a weird doodle, or something. Despite your adoration, you know there’s no reason he should feel the same for you. Everyone loves him for a reason. Everyone must ignore you for one, too. 

“Why haven’t you been talking to Luke?”

The question breaks your concentrated silence in the Apollo cabin. You’ve been sitting here for a while now, humming to yourself over a mostly blank canvas. The cabin is dusted with a lilac haze, thanks to your manipulation of the light streaming through the windows. Helps you feel less like you’re at camp and more like you’re in a fairytale. 

“Helloooo, lady, I asked you a question.”

You begrudgingly look up. Lee Fletcher, head of the Apollo cabin, is at the mouth of the cabin, gazing at all your supplies strewn about the floor like they’re a bunch of unsavoury substances. “It looks like a hurricane came in here. Now why aren’t you talking to Luke?”

“How do you know I’m not talking to him?” You mutter as Lee sits beside you. 

“Uh, because you’ve been sleeping here multiple nights in a row and you never do that. And you don’t sit with him at dinner. And whenever we see him you drag me in the other direction—”

“Lee!”

“I’m just saying, you should probably talk about it. My beautiful voice can heal wounds, yes, but not of the heart.” He splays a hand across his chest in mock theatrics.

You don’t say anything. The familiar weight of the brush against your fingertips is far more comforting than trying to talk, so you busy yourself with your canvas again. “He waits for you, you know,” Lee continues, quieter. “In the morning. And before dinner. He always asks if you’re here.”

“Oh,” you say, and your wavering voice betrays your expression. But you think of everyone else at camp, their gleaming smiles and their celebrated parents, their own cabins and friends and dreams, how you don’t seem to have any of those. You think of the girl whispering in Luke’s ear. All her shades of beauty. You know it’s wrong to compare yourself, to be jealous. You’re just … sad.

The cabin darkens from a lilac to an imperceptibly gloomier shade. A blue sort of longing gets caught in your throat, blurring the colours on your canvas. But you keep your brush steady, focused on the scratch of its bristles so you don’t have to hear what you say next. 

“I think I love him, Lee.” And then, “But I don’t think he loves me.”

There’s no sound except the scraping of your brush when it’s run out of paint, and a sniffle when a tear rolls down your cheek. 

“Oh,” Lee fills the silence the way you did just moments before. Then he says your name, laced with pity, and hugs you on the floor of his lavender cabin. 

“You want to help me lead the bonfire song tonight?” He asks after a minute. “Or at least … come to the bonfire song?” 

“No to the first, yes to the second.”

You wish you said no to both. 

The spot you choose after dinner is right next to the fire so you can distract yourself with the golden flecks of flame. Fire is so fluid, so complex, from a colour perspective. But no matter how close you get, the searing warmth can’t hide Luke’s gaze peering over the embers. 

He will not. Stop. Looking at you. 

The singing from the Apollo kids usually soothes you but tonight it’s just making you anxious. All this attention so close to you. Will Solace has been sitting next to you this whole time, your unofficial assigned companion for the night thanks to Lee. One of his siblings beckons him over, and he shoots you an apologetic look, hesitating. "Just go," you wave off kindly. "It's all good." He's not entirely convinced, and you aren't either, but he squeezes your shoulder with thanks and leaves you anyway.

Now you’re acutely aware the space next to you is wide open. And so is Luke, it seems. There’s an awkward moment where your gazes slide over each other and he weaves out of his current crowd towards you. So you do the most mature, sound thing you could possibly do in this situation:

You say you have to go to the bathroom to no one in particular and get out of there. 

It’s dark, but you’ve got sharper eyes than most. Soon the noise of the campfire is behind you. You traipse through the camp towards the bathroom,but you don’t get far before you hear something that makes your stomach drop in the worst and best way. 

Luke, calling your name. 

At first you think you can get away with not hearing him. Then he calls a second, a third, a fourth time, punctuated with, “Come on, I know you can hear me, can you just turn around?”

He’s got longer legs than you so the next time he speaks it’s practically in your ear. “Hey, just look at me. Please. I want to talk to you.”

There’s something so tender in his voice that it makes you cave immediately. But you already feel so fragile, you can feel the tears behind your eyes. You know you won’t have the strength to talk to him. 

His hand curls gently around your wrist and it sends warmth all the way up your arm. He says your name again, softer, and you love the way it sounds. You can’t meet his eyes, but you already know what he looks like. Even in the dark you picture him crystal clear. 

“Look at me,” he repeats. “I just—I need to know what I did wrong.”

His dark eyes are full and apprehensive when you heed him. You notice how much you’ve missed studying his face—the slight bunch of his brows, the tensing in his jaw. And you almost delude yourself that he’s missed you just as much, the way he squeezes your wrist and rakes over your expression.

“Why are you ignoring me?” He asks. 

“I’m not—”

“You are. I know you. Just tell me why.” 

He looks so sweet, so earnest, and it kills you. You think of the way he looked when all his friends made fun of you. It all comes up before you can help it. 

“Do you always let me walk around looking like an idiot?” You ask bitingly, staring at the floor. “The thing, with the paint on my cheek—why didn’t you tell me? I looked so stupid and all your friends just laughed at me!” 

His face falls. “I tried to tell you, I thought—”

“It’s okay to say you don’t like me, or that you’re embarrassed, or whatever, but I …” You swallow, tears thick on your lower lashes. “Everyone makes fun of me. I don’t know why you don’t.”

“Because I do like you,” he states, hand moving up to your forearm. 

“Don’t say that,” you whisper. “You’re so much … better, you know you are, and I don’t want your pity, or your spare time. I just—I made something up in my head that wasn’t there and I only noticed it the other day after you talked to that girl and that guy made fun of me and I’m really, really sorry—”

“It looked cute. I was trying to say I didn’t tell you about the paint because I thought it was cute.”

There’s a lull.

“What?” You blink stupidly. 

“I know I should’ve told you about it, but I swear I was going to before dinner, I didn’t think we’d run into anyone before then.” His cheeks tinge red. “I had this whole dumb thing planned out where I’d wipe it off your cheek and tell you how cute it was once you got embarassed. I was waiting to tell you. I was thinking about it the whole time.”

His hand on your arm is a frighteningly grounding thing. You're dumbstruck by that alone. Your lips part, but all that comes out is, “Why?”

A gentle laugh tumbles out of his throat. “Why do you think?”

His other hand comes up to brush your cheekbone, where the paint had been, and you can imagine him doing it to you on that day. How you'd probably react just the way he said you would, the way you are now. A warm orange glow blooming in your chest. “But the girl—”

“She tried whispering to me how much she liked my bracelet,” he smiles fondly. “Told her you made it for me. It shut her up. I don’t know what that guy said to you but I chewed ‘em all out the second you left. They knew I wasn’t happy. I tried looking for you but you were gone. I don't like them, you know."

You don’t know what to say. It’s too difficult, too uncertain for you to jump the gun on this. So you just stare at all the shifting colours on his face as he moves closer to you. All this time going over his every detail, and there's still more to be enthralled by.

“I found the paintings,” he says, voice so close you can feel it brushing your skin. “The ones of me. I was looking for you in the Apollo cabin a week ago and you left one out. I knew it was yours because ... I mean, there’s no one in the world that can make me look that … beautiful.” 

The last word is apprehensive but it’s spoken with an unimaginable tenderness. He looks a little teary himself. You think you’re dreaming. “I knew I had to tell you after that. I’ve been trying to tell you. But you started pulling away from me so I thought I was making it all up.”

“Tell me what?” It’s a ghost of a question between you, an impossible thing, but the hand on your arm slips around to your back and he presses it there with such certainty. 

“You’re really gonna make me say it?” He cocks his head, but you nod. “I’m in love with you, I think.”

The words cascade over you in ribbons of warmth. Your brain feels fuzzy, seperate from the rest of your body. Your mouth opens multiple times but you can’t seem to control what comes out. “Luke, are you joking?”

“Not even a little.”

“But you’ve got so many other—”

“I want you.”

“I am literally the most incompetent person alive; I can’t sing, I can’t talk to people, I have a weird knee—”

"Your knee is fine!"

"I'm just saying, this makes no sense from an outsider perspective, it's—"

“Okay, clearly the telling thing isn’t working so I guess I’m just gonna have to kiss you.”

It happens so quickly you don’t have any time to think (probably for the better). You let out a surprised “oh” before his mouth silences you, stopping every other thought. He’s gentle, thumb still rubbing your cheekbone, other hand still firm at your waist. You want to panic—where should you put your hands? How do you know you’re doing this right? But he steadies you, the way he always does, and you give in. 

He starts to smile against your lips. You’re almost positive the intensity of your heartbeat could summon a storm. When he pulls away, he kisses the corners of your mouth and you think you’re going to evaporate. “I don’t think I’m very good at this,” you whisper.

“You’re perfect.” He grins a little when your hands tentatively tug at a curl on the nape of his neck. “And none of that stuff you say is true. I mean, you’re definitely a better singer than me.”

Leaning close to your ear, he warbles out a song you know but gets the words horribly wrong anyways. You can’t help but laugh. “Okay, maybe you have a point.”

He hums and chuckles with you. You swear the moon gets brighter when he wraps his arms around your waist to kiss the side of your face. “Next time you paint me, I want to be there when you do it.”

You blush harder than you ever have in your life. “Only if you try painting me,” you say quietly.

“Of course. You’re very pretty, so I’m sure my horrible artistic skills won’t even make you look bad.”

Luke lets you press your face into the crook of his neck. You soak it up for all it’s worth. 

In the morning, you wake up in the same position. Your nose tucked against his collarbone, the shade of pink you love freckled across his cheeks. You can't wait to paint him again.

When you look out the window, you say a silent, grateful prayer to your mother.

She's given you two more rainbows.

[insomniumstella]

baby, she's all yours

bucky x fem!reader

warnings: free use (consent to be "used" anytime & anywhere), explicit language, fingering, oral (m! and f! receiving), a sprinkle of degradation, a sprinkle of breeding kink, dom!bucky, public sex, light spanking, daddy kink (i should be stopped). this one is bad, so it goes without saying, but MDI

word count: 1,240

author's note: this is a lil' story in celebration of kinktober, which time won't permit me to participate in, but my thoughts always wanted to. ➼ sharp, but oh so gentle

James was hesitant to explore the concept you described as free use at first, and maybe a fraction scared. The two of you had been dating for close to three years, and though things were great, the idea of you introducing free use into the bedroom days after knife play troubled him. His heart has always been heavy with the notion of being too difficult to love and too bothersome to deal with, but you made him feel enough; more than. Special in public when you would proudly hold his hand, and special in the comfort of plush sheets when you would let him cherish you — use and mould you into a drooling mess, obeying every demand. Was proposing a fresh kink a silent plead to advise him you have gotten bored? 

As it turned out, it was. Kind of. The itch beneath your skin urging you to explore foreign waters wasn’t boredom but rather lust. Fiery hot and addicting type of lust that ignited every nerve ending in your body around him. Still does. Introducing Bucky to free use was the best—and the most deliciously infuriating—thing to soothe your constant yearning for his touch. 

It caught you off guard, the first time he complied with the request. Steve had recently purchased an apartment in Brooklyn and organised a small housewarming celebration. You slipped out of the living room and into the kitchen once your glass turned empty, oblivious to the very needy pair of eyes studying you. The music muffled your soft moans then, as James fingered you against the blonde’s new refrigerator, suffocating the whines his thick fingers caused with passionate kisses. 

The second time it happened, it was winter. Powdery layers of snow covered the entirety of New York City, and, as the sun laid to rest for the evening, the streets seemed magical. James and you were rushing to Natasha’s birthday dinner, stopping by Bergdorf Goodman for a last-minute gift. Time around holidays is always strenuous, but the missions almost doubled last year, rustles of a deadly biochemical weapon dampening the joy of Christmas and stealing your attention away from getting Natasha a gift early. Bucky tackled the three bottom floors whilst you handled the other three, scouring the variety of fine jewelry and designer clothing. As fate would have it, a gorgeous sequinned dress piqued your interest, the colour of it overly harsh for the redhead’s complexion but perfectly complimenting to yours. James practically pleaded for you to model it, assuring nobody would notice you being late a minute or two. Desire waltzed in his eyes when you agreed at last, twirling around to present the garment and flaunt how well it flattered your curves. He shoved the two of you into the private dressing room once the sales associate disappeared to bring out a pair of matching heels, closing the curtains and hiking the dress up to your waist. “Be good for me,” he spoke, undoing his zipper and slipping the tip of his cock into your dripping heat, “you wouldn’t want employees to hear us, would you, doll?” You couldn’t think of the gift you ended up buying Natasha, but you can still remember sobbing into Bucky’s hand as his hips feverishly snapped into yours.  

Sometimes, that particular memory makes you wonder if introducing James to free use was a mistake — you’d be lying if you said it was because the thrill of being played with at times you least expect is exhilarating. The agreement caused many risky scenarios, though. There was that instance of Bucky between your legs, lapping at your core during a video call with your sister. The wooden desk shielded him from view as he relished you, but the grimaces on your features were a smidge more difficult to camouflage. “You taste incredible, baby,” Bucky mumbled, flesh and metal hands gripping the softness of your exposed thighs, before eagerly licking your clit. “Couldn’t ever get enough of this pussy.” You inadvertently moaned thrice during the call, disguising the sinful sounds by feigning coughs and attributing your strange demeanour to a common cold. “Tell her the truth,” James teased then, slipping a metal digit inside your needy hole, and you sneakily slapped his shoulder. The unsuspecting woman on screen continued to babble about her upcoming visit as you hit the mute button on your computer because the man below you had zero intentions of easing up. “Can feel you squeezin’,” he groaned, slipping a couple more of his metal digits inside. “Please end the call, peach, so I could fuck you atop this desk already.” 

There was also the time he got annoyed on a road trip, freeing his cock and guiding your head downward to silence your complaints about his driving on unpaved roads. “Be a good girl and put that mouth to better use,” he grunted as you licked drops of pre-cum off his skin. “Na uh, doll,” with his left arm on the steering wheel, James forced the entirety of his length into your mouth, “we ain’t got time for any foreplay shit right now.” 

Furthermore, introducing him to free use is the reason for your current predicament — being bent over the sink at a local bar with Bucky balls deep inside you. 

“Takin’ me so well, sweetheart.” James praises, catching your gaze in the grimy mirror before spanking your velvety hips. “My girl’s such a slut for me, letting me play with her in a random pub’s bathroom.” It’s more of an observation than dirty talk, and you bite back a moan, nodding. “Bet you’re always thinking about daddy’s big cock, wishing you could be bursting full of me forever, aren’t you?” A harsh spank lands on your scorching skin when you don’t immediately answer. “I asked you a question, peach.”

“Yes,” you sob, digging your manicured nails into the base of your palm. “Love it—,” another wail slips past your swollen lips, “love it when you use me, daddy.” 

The pace of his hips slamming into yours remains brutal as he studies your expression in the mirror. “Look at you,” he clutches your chin, the slight pain of it forcing you to peel your eyes open, “my baby’s so fucked out, she’s having trouble speaking.” The steady pulse of your approaching orgasm heightens as Bucky admires the whimpering mess that is you, leaning lower until the slight stubble on his jaw tickles your ear. “Should I let you finish, or should I leave you all desperate and stuffed full of my cum until happy hour’s over?” 

“Please,” you plead, “I’m so close.” 

“That’s too—,” James chuckles through a groan as his own orgasm bursts in syrupy waves, “—bad.” The rhythm of his movements falters and then stops, and if tears weren’t streaming down your face already, you would’ve cried at the loss of contact, feeling terribly empty without Bucky to keep you warm. Though you don’t say a word to him, he can sense your frustration, the weight of your emotions lingering in the atmosphere around you. Slithering his metal hands between your legs, he pushes the cum that leaked out back inside you, thrusting a couple times to soothe your disappointment before withdrawing his touch and shoving your discarded panties into the pocket of his jacket. “Don’t let it drip out if you want a reward when we get home.” A lazy grin stretches across his features. “I promise to make it worth your while.” 

[takami-takami]

UHHHH so like Keigo getting wholeheartedly distracted from his daddy issues on Father's Day because he has a single passing thought about making you a parent and now the baby fever + breeding kink combo are beating his ass

Thoughts?

- magpie anon ✦

Keigo's hell begins over coffee.

Coffee and a mindless, paltry comment.

Keigo has always been chipper in the morning, if not a little understimulated by the rest of the world taking its sweet time catching up to his trademark speed. Like most mornings, your boyfriend is a blur of red and gold, flitting about the kitchen to prepare the perfect breakfast for you two to start off the day.

Pots and dishes click and clatter around you, and you swear you see a dollop of pancake batter go flying as a stray feather does its work mixing the bowl to free Keigo’s hands to cook.

You, on the other hand, are perfectly content sulking by the coffee machine.

You take a sip. Your coffee is dark roast— a little reminiscent of the bags under your eyes, as you force yourself to keep them open long enough for the caffeine to hit your system. If they close for more than a second, you fear they won't open again.

Perhaps letting sleep take you would be preferable. You want nothing more than to crawl back under the quilted covers, to drag your boyfriend back in bed with you for ‘just five more minutes’ and bury yourself in his warmth; but judging by the way he’s bouncing off the walls today, you don’t suppose convincing Keigo is an option.

Breakfast looks practically gourmet as Keigo drizzles strawberry syrup in creative shapes. He arranges fruit slices in the shape of a heart for your plate.

You’re doing your part, though. You dunk sugar in Keigo’s coffee and rub the sleep from your eyes.

“I’m bored,” Keigo suddenly asserts.

“Mm,” you hum, warming your hands against the mug.

“We never do anything this time of year,” Keigo says. 

“Do you want to,” you respond, with a raised brow.

Keigo hums. He gets it. You both do. Still, every year, something unknown itches and claws at the back of his throat.

“Tsukuyomi asked for the day off today,” Keigo continues, almost shyly. He stares into the crackling eggs that are about to char on the frying pan and pokes them with a spatula. “Wanted to spend it with his folks again.”

“Yeah? He deserves it, honestly,” you say. “Good kid. What, are you jealous or something? Want a day off too, huh?”

Keigo shrugs. You almost snort as you make your way to leave the kitchen and set the table. 

As you pass Keigo by, you push his mug into his chest and plant a peck on his cheek.

“If you’re that bored on father’s day,” you yawn. “You could always just knock me up.”

Keigo forgets to flip the eggs. 

He forgets a lot of things, actually. 

You could always just knock me up.

Several of his interns ask Keigo to write letters of recommendation for them at work; and his handler reminds him today is the last day of the week, so he needs to look over the particulars in the database for his agency to be sent to the higher ups. 

Thus, even as he dons the visage of the hero Hawks, Keigo is confined to the torture chamber that is solitary confinement in his office with his thoughts.

He could always just knock you up.

Several chewed pen caps litter the expanse of his mahogany desk, another falling with a thunk to join its brethren among the pen cap graveyard.

I could always just knock them up.

Keigo decides to take the train ride home, opting to give his wings time to recover from a recent fight against a particularly tricky villain. He watches the scenery blaze by in a fog, pensive as the raindrops plop against the window.

He should probably just knock you up.

[pathologicalreid]

If your down could u write an imagine where reader is new to the bau and Spencer is just coming back from jail and he makes reader nervous and when he notices he starts to mess with her nothing to wild but he teases her every now and again -🖤

drop | S.R.

in which reid seems to be there every time you drop something

who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader

category: fluff

content warnings: fluff, lighthearted teasing, clumsiness, obliviousness, reader is mentioned to be shorter than 5'7" (sorry it just worked for the story)

word count: 1.1k

a/n: hey anon! thanks for requesting, i think i may have verged away from the request on accident. also this is the one i posted about earlier that had been deleted by word so i had to rewrite it and therefore it's not very thoroughly proofread. hope you enjoy.

It came as a shock, most people needed to apply to the BAU and even then, they spent years trying to get in. You had gotten a call four months ago and were told you were leaving IOD in the Hoover building and would be expected at the BAU the next morning.

Years ago, you had a run-in with Emily Prentiss while she was heading Interpol in London, but you didn’t think she remembered you – let alone wanted to work with you. She brought you on to the team to help catch Peter Lewis

Now, Peter Lewis was dead, and Spencer Reid had been exonerated. You thought your time with the team was done, but when Emily caught you packing up your things, she told you she had no intentions of sending you back to the International Operation Division.

So, you made yourself comfortable at your desk across from Luke’s, even adding a picture of your family, just to make it seem a little lived-in.

It was something you’d had drilled into your head by your father: if you’re not early, you’re late. That was the reason why you were usually the first to the BAU, only sometimes being beaten by Dr. Reid.

Penelope said he was harmless, but that didn’t change the fact that he made you nervous. Not nervous in the sense that you were scared of him, but nervous in the way that he was something of a legend in the FBI.

Even more so since his recent release from prison.

You felt a sort of disconnect from the team when it came to them trying to get Reid out of prison, whenever Nadie Ramos came up in conversation, you picked up your files on Mr. Scratch and distracted yourself. Of course, you helped where you were needed, but you didn’t know him like they did.

This particular morning, you had beaten him to the office, taking your spot at your desk and flipping through a file you had abandoned in the name of sleep last night. A slight crash made you jump so badly that you fumbled with the papers in an attempt to not drop them. You looked up to see Spencer had dropped his bag on his desk, “Good morning, Y/N.” He greeted you.

Blankly, you stare at him for a moment before giving him a half smile. “Good morning, Dr. Reid,” you responded.

“I told you that you could just call me Reid, or Spencer,” he said, sitting down at his own desk.

Nodding, you found yourself interested in your coffee cup. “Yes, you did,” you took a deep breath. “Good morning, Spencer,” you tried again, offering him a fuller smile.

That seemed to appease him for now because he flipped open his own files and started inspecting them.

As you were preparing for the 10 o’clock debrief, you found yourself in the office kitchenette, pouring a cup of coffee from the pot that had been brewed an indeterminate number of minutes ago. Vaguely aware of the person standing behind you, you turned around to find Spencer, holding his own mug in both hands. “Oh! Hey,” you said, mentally smacking the palm of your hand to your forehead.

You moved out of the way as you added cream to your mug, watching as Spencer poured his coffee and followed it up with an almost equal amount of sugar. As you were about to make your way to the round table room, Spencer spoke, “You know, before 1975 you wouldn’t even have been able to be an FBI agent.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you stopped in your tracks and turned to face him, “Wait, what? Why?”

“Before 1975 people shorter than 5’7” couldn’t be FBI agents,” He responded plainly, but there was a bit of mischief in his eyes.

You looked at him curiously, warmth flooding your cheeks. You stammered something about being late and rushed to the roundtable room, taking your usual spot next to Luke, and watching what Garcia presented to you—pretending not to notice Spencer across the table from you.

The BAU had been asked to consult on a case, but there were no precincts that had asked the team to make a trip to them. You had finished the paperwork on a recently closed case and got up to bring it to Emily, stuffing the papers in a file folder, you turned around and ran into Spencer. “Sorry!” You squeaked out, dropping to the floor to pick up the papers. To your surprise, he crouched down next to you and helped to pick up the papers. “Oh, jeez, now they’re all out of order,” you moped, setting the papers back down on your desk.

“It was my fault,” Spencer said. The honesty in his voice made your shoulders slouch.

Shaking your head, you smiled at him, “It’s okay, Spencer. They’re just papers.”

He looked at you like there was something more he wanted to say, but he didn’t, he just turned from your desk and walked out of the bullpen, leaving you staring.

When you finally brought your papers to Emily, she asked you to close the door behind you. Patiently, you stood in her office while she added your file to the menacing pile she kept on her desk. “I’ve been meaning to ask how you’re doing. With the BAU, I mean,” she told you, leaning over her desk.

“Good, I think. I’ve gotten very few complaints so far,” you told her, unable to help the uneasiness you felt. Had someone said something?

Emily nodded, her dark hair shining with the movement, “Good, I haven’t heard anything negative about you at all. Which is actually uncommon for the BAU.”

You let the rest of the day pass, but as the team trickled out of the bullpen, only you, Emily, and Spencer were left.

At the sound of rustling, you looked over to see that Spencer was packing up his things and putting them into his familiar leather bag. Resting your cheek on your hand, you went back to your case file, marking thoughts in the margins.

Jumping when something hit your desk, making the metal rattle, you dropped your pen on the ground. Peering up to see Spencer giving you a lopsided smile before he bent down to pick up your pen, “Hey, at least you didn’t drop a bunch of papers again.”

You flushed as your eyes followed him out the glass doors of the BAU, turning around to see Emily watching on, leaning on the railing outside her office, looking between you and Spencer as if she knew something you didn’t.