#but now I’m just here and half the ingredients for anything i want to make are always gone and I’m getting irritated

[starryjake]

teddy bear pajamas pt. 3 | l.h

part 1 part 2

pairing: heeseung x fem!reader

warnings: alcohol consumption, car sex, fingering, tasting cum, unprotected sex, cumming inside, finger sucking, spitting (lmk if i missed anything!)

“a little more to the left.”

you huffed impatiently, moving the banner over to the left by just a smidge.

“too far,” jay said. “more to the right.”

you groaned, setting the banner down all together and climbing down from the ladder.

“i can’t believe you’re making me hang decorations for your party,” you guffawed. “what do i even get out of helping you?”

“you get to go to the party, duh,” your brother replied, grabbing the banner and climbing up the ladder himself.

“well i assumed that was a given considering i live here,” you retorted.

“well i’m not afraid to kick you to the curb if you don’t start getting the snacks ready,” jay responded.

rolling your eyes, you opened the refrigerator and started pulling out ingredients for the snack plate you were assigned to make for tonight. once you pulled out all the ingredients, you pulled out your phone, checking for a notification you hadn’t received.

“so,” you started, tucking your phone back away and trying to hide your disappointment, “are all your friends gonna be here tonight? like, all of them?”

jay was focused on stapling the banner in place, his eyebrows furrowed together in concentration.

“yeah, of course,” he responded, only half paying attention to you.

that was the only answer you needed though. it meant heeseung would be at the party tonight. heeseung, who fucked you in your bed the other night and then hadn’t contacted you a single time since.

you’d been glued to your phone, checking nonstop and waiting for him to text you, call you, like your instagram picture, anything. yet he’d been silent, and that crushed you.

seeing him tonight at the party scared you. would he ignore you? would he pretend nothing ever happened between you guys?

you had no idea what to expect, and you were terrified.

-

the party was in full blast. yours and jay’s shared apartment was more packed than you’d ever seen it before.

it was nearing midnight and you’d still yet to see heeseung. in fact, you hadn’t seen him or any of jay’s immediate friend group, which also included jake and sunghoon. you were relieved, but also anxious that he could appear in front of you at any moment.

you were in the kitchen fixing yourself a drink to help calm some of your anxieties when suddenly you heard the front door open, close, and then a loud eruption of cheers and conversation. the loudness and excitement of it all was enough to make your heart start thumping fast in your chest.

then you heard their voices, but it was too late for you to run out of the kitchen because there they were, walking right over to where you were at the drink station.

“hey, y/n,” jake greeted, pulling you into a tight hug.

your face was pressed against his chest, momentarily allowing you to catch your breath. you had to think fast about how you were going to approach heeseung.

“hey,” you replied, forcing a smile once you pulled back.

sunghoon greeted you next, ruffling your hair in a playful manner. you then turned to heeseung, who made eye contact with you, and then turned the other way to grab a drink, not saying a word.

you gulped, looking down at the floor. a wave of sadness overcame you because what he just did was all you needed to see to understand that he did regret what you two did, and now he wanted nothing to do with you.

you walked out of the kitchen and beelined straight for your bedroom. you didn’t want to leave the party, but you just needed a moment to collect yourself.

you little moment of peace ended up taking 30 minutes. it took you a while to muster up the courage to go back out there, but eventually you did.

the party had died down slightly, making it easier for you to walk down the hall and back into the main living space.

you took in your surroundings, first noticing your brother on the couch with an unfamiliar girl in his lap. a few feet away from them, sunghoon was dancing with some girl, and jake was playing beer pong with a group of people. heeseung was nowhere to be found.

your hopes were raised. you thought he must’ve left if he wasn’t around any of his friends.

with a slight hop in your step, you entered the kitchen to nibble on the snack plate you’d made earlier in the day. as you ate, you looked out the kitchen window which had a direct view of the balcony, and there he was.

he was standing outside by himself. his back was turned to you, but you knew it was him. he was leaning over the balcony railing, staring ahead at the city in front of him.

you weren’t sure what came over you. the alcohol, or maybe the rage that came with the fact he had been blatantly ignoring you after what occurred between you two the other night. but suddenly, you were opening the balcony door and joining him outside in the crisp late-fall air.

he turned around upon hearing the door slide open and was visibly surprised to find you standing there. it was unlike you to confront him, to confront anyone, but you were angry. you felt used and you wanted an explanation.

“oh,” he said. “hey.”

for a moment, you didn’t know what to say. you cursed how attractive he was in that moment because it’d rendered you speechless.

“hey,” you responded.

“how are you?” he asked.

“maybe you’d know if you’d bothered to text me,” you snapped.

you were shocked with yourself as soon as the words left your mouth. heeseung looked shocked for a moment as well, but then the guilt set in and took over his face.

“i’m sorry, y/n,” he sighed, leaning onto the balcony again. you crossed your arms and waited impatiently for whatever excuse he was going to pull. “i wanted to text you, i just…i got scared.”

“scared?” you repeated. “what’s so scary about me?”

“nothing,” heeseung said, turning his head to look at you. he then smiled a bit and shook his head. “there’s nothing scary at all about you…except the fact that i feel like i betrayed jay by sleeping with you.”

“he doesn’t know,” you assured.

“i know,” he replied, sighing. “that’s the bad part. i’m keeping this huge secret from him and i know he’ll be pissed if he finds out.”

“maybe not,” you shrugged.

heeseung gave you a look, which was deserved because not even you believed yourself. he was right in that jay would be very angry to find out heeseung had sex with you.

“well, you could’ve told me that instead of saying nothing,” you uttered quietly. “it felt like you just used me for what you wanted and then tossed me out when you were done.”

“no no no,” he hurriedly shook his head, planting his hands firmly on your arms and looking directly into your eyes. “that is not what happened, i promise you. i wanted to text you so bad and then when i saw you earlier tonight i just freaked out and didn’t know what to do. i’m so sorry, y/n.”

it was hard not for you to immediately forgive him with the way he was pleading to you and looking into your eyes so thoughtfully. you gulped, forcing your gaze on the ground.

“what now?” you asked.

“what do you mean?” he wondered, his hands still gripping your arms.

“are we ever gonna…” you trailed off, too embarrassed to speak.

“gonna what?” he asked, his thumbs starting to caress your skin. “do it again?”

you nodded shyly.

“do you wanna do it again?” he asked.

“i—i mean—yeah,” you sputtered out.

the corners of his lips turned upwards at that.

“come on, baby, let’s go for a drive.”

-

you weren’t entirely sure how you got in this position, how you ended up shirtless in the back of heeseung’s car dry humping his lap. but there you were, and you were already a moaning mess.

his hands were all over you, stroking and feeling your warm, smooth skin. he kissed your neck while your clothed lower half ground down on him.

he rolled his neck up to look at your face. it was somewhat difficult to see the details of your face in the darkness of the night and the darkness of the random deserted parking lot you were parked in. but he could see your eyes, your starry, glistening eyes.

“how are you this pretty?” he whispered, looking at you in pure awe.

you blushed, hiding your face in his chest. he rubbed your back, his entire body feeling like it was engulfed in flames, and then he really knew for sure that he had a real, genuine crush on his best friend’s sister.

you shifted off his lap, much to his disliking, and planted your hand on his bulge. he bit his lip, watching you stroke his outline over his pants. you smiled, watching the way his breathing got heavier even though you’d hardly touched him yet.

“heeseung,” you said, slowly sliding your hand into his jeans.

“yeah?” he whispered, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

“i want you to fuck me in this car,” you told him, biting your lip to hold back your excited smile.

heeseung nearly fainted. you were so not the shy innocent thing he thought you were. you were lewd when you were turned on and he loved it. the more time he spent around you, the more perfect he discovered you were.

“fuck,” he swallowed, nodding. “okay. i’ll fuck you, baby. i’ll fuck my sweet girl as much as she wants.”

he hurriedly unbuttoned his jeans and tugged them down his legs, which was a lot harder than it should’ve been in the tight confines of his car.

eventually, he was left in his boxers. he watched as you pulled your own pants down, and once you were left in your underwear, he pulled you back into his lap. the lesser amount of fabric separating the two of you made it easier to feel his cock, feel how hard and heavy it was.

he leaned forward and attached his lips to your chest, sucking on your collarbones and moving down to your tits. he kissed each of your nipples, smiling against your chest at the way you shuddered and pushed your hips against his crotch, desperate for some friction where you needed it the most.

he lifted your hips up off of his lap momentarily to slide his boxers down his legs, leaving his lower half exposed. his cock, hard and eager as ever, sprang out and stood long, his tip glistening and shiny from spilled pre cum.

if the confines of the car weren’t so restricting, you would’ve leaned down and licked along his tip, getting a taste of his salty precum. instead, you trailed your fingers along his tip, gathering as much of the liquid as you could, and shoved them in your mouth, moaning at his taste.

heeseung grabbed your hips again and laid you down on his car’s leather seats. he positioned one of your legs over the back of the seat and the other one to the floor, spreading your legs the best he could in the limited space you were working with.

with your legs spread, he rubbed your clothed clit with his thumb, feeling the wetness seeping through the thin fabric of your underwear.

he pulled your panties to the side, exposing your trembling, glistening pussy to him. he traced your hole with his middle finger before sliding it in. your hole sucked him in with ease from how aroused you were, how ready and willing you were to take him.

you moaned as loudly as you wanted since he was the only one who’d be able to hear it. you didn’t have to worry about your brother finding you guys since he was too busy hosting a party and probably had no idea that you guys had even left.

heeseung immediately slid in another finger and started massaging his fingers inside you. you let out soft little whimpers as you subtly humped your hips up, trying to fuck yourself down on his fingers. he had to take a breath to calm himself down, to keep himself from busting without even touching himself. you just looked too perfect like this, spread out in the back of his car letting him finger you.

once he felt like you were stretched and prepared enough to take him, heeseung pulled his fingers out of you. they were absolutely drenched in your arousal, so much so that when he spread his fingers apart, strings of your sticky witness webbed between them.

you turned your head to the side in embarrassment, missing it when heeseung used that same, wet hand to jerk himself off for a minute, covering his cock in your arousal, to get himself ready to be inside you.

he held your panties to the side again, about to position his cock with your hole and slide right in before he stopped himself.

“you ready, my baby?” he asked, tilting your face so you were looking at him.

“please,” you begged. “put it in, hee.”

it was what heeseung expected you to say, but he wanted to check anyway.

he chuckled breathily and slid his cock inside you, your hole taking him in so sweetly. it was warm and wet and unbelievably tight, just like he remembered it to be from the other night.

“oh, fuck,” he groaned out as he pushed himself in as deep as he could go, stopping once he bottomed out and your pelvises were pressed together.

you closed your eyes and a dizzy smile appeared on your face. he hadn’t even done a thing yet but you already felt so good, just to have him inside of you again. to have him all the way buried inside of you felt unbelievable.

“what’s that?” he asked, laughing softly. he tickled your cheek, making you open your eyes. “what’re you smiling about?”

“nothing,” you shook your head, refusing to tell him what had you smiling.

“you feelin’ good?” he wondered, rubbing your thigh assuringly.

you nodded. “need you to move.”

heeseung complied immediately, slowly pulling his cock out nearly all the way and pushing it back in. your walls enveloped him, stretching around his length and taking him like you were made for it.

his thrusts picked up quickly. you barely needed time to adjust since you were so wet and so absolutely needy for him. so, when he started fucking you hard enough that the car was shaking, you didn’t complain at all.

in fact, you were practically crying from the pleasure. moan after moan and curse after curse and whine after pleasured whine tumbled past your lips, so fucked out and far gone already.

heeseung held your thighs as he slammed his cock in and out of you, alternating between watching his cock disappear in and out of you and looking up at your pretty face. he opted for your face because your eyes were watery and your nose and cheeks were red, and you were even starting to drool, and it was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. he was ruining you.

“f-feels so fucking good, heeseung,” you sobbed.

“yeah?” he said, suddenly pulling out.

you frowned up at him for suddenly putting a stop to your immense pleasure. to just pull out so suddenly like that, you almost got mad.

he took ahold of his cock in his hand and pressed it down against your pussy, grinding his hips back and forth and rubbing it along your slick folds. it felt so heavy on your pussy, so long and hard and perfect for you.

“oh…” you moaned out, watching his cock rub on your pussy.

he leaned down, unable to go a second longer without kissing you. you shoved your tongue into his mouth and he immediately rubbed his against yours, exchanging an excess amount of saliva.

“put your head back,” he commanded.

you tilted your head back, watching in fascination as he let a wad of spit slowly trickle from his mouth and land on your awaiting tongue. you swallowed it with a moan, pressing his warm body down onto yours. you wanted to be as close to him as possible. you wanted to feel his skin on your skin and never let him go.

“you’re so fucking hot,” you said, running your fingers through his fluffy hair.

heeseung left you with a peck on your lips before sitting back up so he could get back into the position of fucking you again.

kneeling, he re-entered you, sighing from how fucking good it felt every time. every time he first slid into you, it felt magical.

he began thrusting even quicker than before, licking his thumb before bringing it down to rub your clit. you moaned pathetically, your legs starting to shake and your toes starting to curl from the added pleasure.

“oh f-fuck, hee,” you cried out. “mmm, don’t stop! please please please!”

he could tell you were getting closer by your gummy walls clenching impossibly tight around him and your desperate words. luckily for you, he had no intention of stopping, only going harder.

he plummeted his cock into you, his tip hitting spots of you that were almost uncomfortably deep, but not quite.

you were shaking and writhing beneath him and he kept going and going, needing to see you cum because he knew it was going to be harder than any other time he’d witnessed before.

“hee,” you sobbed. “i’m gonna fucking cum. please, oh fuck!”

your legs tightened around his waist and your eyes rolled into the back of your head. your mouth opened in a silent scream as you started cumming around his dick and on his thumb, which was still rapidly fingering your clit.

“goddamn,” he growled, feeling the knot in his own stomach hint at unraveling.

you just looked too fucking unreal when you came. a tear trickled out of your eye, drool sliding shamelessly down your chin. you were such a perfect mess, he needed to fuck you full of his cum.

“oh, my sweet baby girl,” he said, still pounding you despite how hard you just came. “i’m gonna fuck you so full of my load, angel. you want that? you wanna feel all full of my—fuck—full of my cum? you wanna be filled, baby?”

“please, hee!” you begged, nails clawing down his back. “cum inside me, please. need it so bad.”

with a few more thrusts, heeseung finally stilled inside you and you could feel his warmth filling you up. streams of his cum overflowed inside you and you felt euphoric as you laid there and took it all for him.

he had his eyes shut tightly as he lightly thrusted his hips, riding out his orgasm and forcing out as much cum as he could. his grip on you was painfully tight, but you wouldn’t dare stop him now, not when he was cumming so beautifully.

he regretfully pulled out of you a moment later, watching in exhaustion and awe as his creamy white cum came spilling out of your used hole. he moved your underwear back to cover your pussy, watching the way his cum seeped through the fabric and spilled out the sides.

“fuck,” he muttered. “so messy ‘n pretty.”

he rubbed his fingers over the wet fabric, sliding them up and down your puffy folds. you moaned out, setting your hand on his wrist to stop him.

“sorry,” he said with a tired smile.

he handed you your clothes and while you got dressed, he dressed himself as well. there was cum all over his leather seats, but he would have to deal with that at another time.

“c’mere,” he urged once you were both finally calmed down.

you let him wrap his arm around you and kiss the top of your head, leaning into his shoulder tiredly.

“you did so good for me,” he told you. “do you want me to take you home? or do you wanna come to my place?”

that answer seemed quite obvious.

“your place,” you said.

“i was hoping you’d say that,” he said.

the two of you moved to the front seats where heeseung began driving in the direction of his apartment, his mind and his heart racing about what the two of you just did and what would happen next.

-

well! anyway…part 4?

thank you for reading!

[starriniqhts]

.｡.:*☆ missed your call - boynextdoor.

alternate title: the voicemails boynextdoor leave.

☆ pairing boynextdoor x gn!reader wc 0.605k tw none genre fluff, mild angst in taesan + leehan's author's note this one!! i like this concept so so much, so i hope you all do as well! btw guys i actually researched fish for leehan's part it's a real study 😭😭 if you're curious... i present you with this. anyway enjoy and happy reading <3

☆ reblogs + feedback very much appreciated! ^^

thank you for calling! unfortunately, the person you’ve tried to reach is currently unavailable. please leave a message at the tone…

✧ park sungho.

“jagiya, don’t tell me you’re still asleep. i know it’s the weekend, but this late into the afternoon? *heavy sigh.* ah, i suppose i can’t fault you for that. if i didn’t have a weekend schedule this time around i’d probably be right there beside you. anyway, i just wanted to let you know that there’s some breakfast for you on the stovetop whenever you wake up. eat well, okay? call me whenever you’re free, don’t worry about my schedule. i can’t wait to hear your voice.”

✧ lee riwoo.

“hi, sweetie! it’s nothing, i just wanted to know if you’ll be free this weekend. i don’t have anything scheduled, so let’s go on a date! there was that one restaurant you’ve been talking about for a while, right? let’s go there if you still want to. i think the weather will be nice too, so we can take the food and go have a picnic by the han river! ah, i normally would have texted, but i thought it would be nice to hear your voice. call me back whenever you’re not busy? talk to you soon.”

✧ myung jaehyun.

“hey, baby, i’m at your favorite cafe right now. i’m getting you a drink! except, they ran out of some of the ingredients to make your usual order. or at least, that’s what they said when i asked. they said it’ll take twenty minutes or so if you wanna wait for your usual, or we can just order something else. what do you want? hurry up and call me back so i can get something for you! love you, baby.”

✧ han taesan.

“hi, darling. today’s show went well. our onedoor were so excited and happy! ah, i just wish you were here to see us too. tour feels like it’s dragging on forever without you beside me. i can’t wait to see you again and tell you all about what happened. and… i miss you, a lot. so i want to hug you and see your pretty smile. *soft sigh.* i think you’d get along well with the onedoor at this stop. for the bonus song, they requested your favorite. ah, you must be asleep now, right? when you wake up and hear this, i hope you had good dreams.”

✧ kim leehan.

“angel? *momentary pause.* i don’t really know why i called. i just wanted to hear your voice. i know you’re busy right now, but… i don’t know. *pause.* did you know that fish become happy when they see the ones they love? scientists did a study about it and found that fish who choose their mates are more likely to see the world in a positive light. like glass half full versus half empty. *pause.* i think the world becomes happier when i see you. the world is brighter when your smile is there to light it up. *pause.* sorry to call when you’re busy. i know you’re doing amazing. call me when you’re free, please?”

✧ kim woonhak.

“y/n, y/n! you won’t believe what i found. it’s a cat plushie! you remember the picture i sent you a few days ago, of the cat i saw in the street? i’m telling you, this plushie is like an exact copy. only, the face it’s making is like that one face you make when you’re annoyed. *soft laugh.* it’s so adorable. i’m getting one for us. i’ll send you a picture once i buy it! and no, babe, before you tell me that you don’t look like a cat, you absolutely look like a cat.”

© starriniqhts 2025, all rights reserved.

[keeryhours]

Customer: @punkrockmlchael

Order: Chocolate lava cake served for two with crushed oreos and whipped cream

Ingredients: Smut (18+), fem!reader, one bed trope, first time, handjob, unprotected p in v, creampie

Total: $20.79 (2k words)

Place an order!

Masterlist Tag Lists

“I don’t know if I can drive home in this.”

Eddie walked up behind you, peering over your head at the torrential downpour occurring outside. It was raining like crazy, so hard you could barely see right in front of you.

“Shit,” Eddie cursed. “I don’t know how the hell we didn’t hear that-“

“Couldn’t hear over the sound of you shaking in your boots over The Exorcist,” you teased.

“Hey, I was not scared,” Eddie said, looking at you seriously. “I was just…cold.”

“Sure,” you grinned, walking around him and back into the trailer. It was late, Wayne had long ago left for work. You were supposed to be having a movie night with Steve and Robin, but they bailed at the last second, leaving you and Eddie alone.

“I wasn’t scared!” he called back. He shut the front door, locking it, and followed you back into the living room. “So, uh…I guess you’re spending the night here?”

“I guess so,” you agreed. “Because I can’t drive in all that.”

Eddie nodded. “Okay. Uh…”

“What?” you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Well I don’t, exactly…have somewhere for you to sleep?”

“You have a bed, don’t you?”

“Well yeah, but-“

“But what, you don’t want to share with me?”

Eddie blushed. “No- I mean, I do- wait, fuck-“

You beamed. “Perfect, then. We can just share. I don’t mind.”

Eddie minded. The ache in his jeans certainly minded, the thought of you in his bed only making it worse. What did you sleep in? He pictured you in nothing but your underwear, cuddling up to him for warmth-

You happily bounded into his bedroom, making yourself at home on the bed. It wasn’t the biggest, enough for the two of you but you’d be close. You looked up at Eddie, standing frozen at the bottom of the bed.

Eddie’s mouth went dry at the sight of you laying on his bed. You were leaning back on your elbows, looking up at him with this innocent expression that made his cock twitch. If he wasn’t so scared of ruining the friendship he would just say that - well, not about his cock, but that he found you beautiful. That he wanted to kiss you really, really badly right now.

“I don’t have any clothes with me,” you said. “Do you, uh, have anything I could borrow?”

Eddie snapped out of his thoughts. “Oh, yeah. I have some t-shirts you can use. I have pajama pants, if they’ll fit?”

“I’m good in just a t-shirt,” you smiled. You went to his dresser and opened a drawer, pulling out an old Hellfire shirt. “Perfect!”

Eddie was frozen as you took off to the bathroom with his shirt. You were going to sleep in just the shirt? In his bed? With him? He half expected you to kick him out and make him sleep on the couch, but when you came back dressed in nothing but his oversized shirt and your panties, dropping down into his bed and looking at him expectantly - he realized this was really happening.

Eddie stripped down to his boxers and flipped the light switch, climbing into the bed next to you. He could feel the warmth of your body against his. He’d never been so close to a girl before, and it was setting his body alight, every nerve ending on fire.

He closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep. But then you turned over, eyes closed, and threw your leg over his. Your knee brushed against his cock and despite his best efforts it came stirring to life again, right against your leg.

He tried to adjust you, to move your leg away from his growing problem, but every time he’d try you’d grumble in your sleep and move it back. The brushing against his dick was exacerbating the problem quickly, and he was terrified by the very real possibility that you were going to wake up to find him rock hard right next to you.

He thought of everything to bring his boner down - all kinds of non-sexy thoughts running through his mind. But you were still there, right on top of him, and oh god-

“Eddie?” you said sleepily. “Oh shit, I’m sorry.”

You moved your leg to remove it from his waist, but you hit something hard instead. Eddie involuntarily groaned at the sudden sensation, then quickly covered his face with his hands.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t know why that’s happening, I just- you’re so-“ Eddie stopped himself before he could put his foot in his mouth any more than it already was.

“I’m just so what?” you asked, a teasing lilt to your voice that almost made him think you were enjoying this.

“Please forget I said anything,” Eddie begged, utterly humiliated. “Seriously, I don’t want this to ruin our friendship.”

“Why would it ruin our friendship?” you asked, running your fingernails up his bare chest. He shivered beneath your touch.

“Because- because you don’t like me back like that?” he said, suddenly unsure with the way you were touching him, maybe even…flirting?

“Says who?”

Eddie swallowed. “I- I don’t know.”

Your hand drifted lower until it was brushing over his erection, and Eddie was in the palm of your hand, literally and figuratively. He groaned, covering his eyes with his arm. “What are you doing t’me?”

“Making you feel good, it looks like,” you said. He could hear the smirk in your voice, and it only made him ache even more. You wrapped your hand around his clothed cock and squeezed it, making him whine.

“You like that?” you whispered. Eddie nodded quickly, don’t stop, please don’t ever stop-

You removed your hand. Eddie uncovered his eyes to look at you, to ask why you’d stopped, when he saw you reach for the waistband of his boxers and pull them down enough to release his cock.

“Hah-“ Eddie breathed a strangled moan as you touched his bare cock for the first time, twitching hard in your hand, like it was begging you to do more. “Fuck-!”

“It’s so pretty,” you mused, watching your hand work him up. He was growing even harder from your touch, his tip flushed red and leaking. Eddie whined again, canting his hips up into your hand. “Use your words, Eddie.”

“Please,” he gasped. “Don’t stop, please, keep going. Feels so good.”

You couldn’t help but smirk when he was begging you like that, so desperate for more of you. “Have you ever done this before?”

“No,” he admitted easily, his mind already gone to the feeling of your hand between his legs. “Never.���

“Do you want to kiss me?”

His eyes popped open. “W-What?”

“Do you want to kiss me?” you asked again, the soft smile on your lips all he could stare at.

“So bad,” he groaned. You leaned in and pressed your lips against his and his hand immediately tangled in your hair, holding your face close to his. He kissed you like he’d seen people kiss in the movies, all tongue and lips and passion. It surprised you, and you found yourself moaning into it, speeding up your hand on his cock.

“Can I have you?” he asked, looking up at you with those big innocent yet hungry eyes. “Please. Need you so bad. I can’t take it anymore.”

“You can have me,” you promised him, sinking back into his kiss. “You can have all of me.”

Eddie’s hand slid up your oversized t-shirt, feeling the soft skin of your sides and stomach, the smooth roundness of your breasts. His thumb brushed over the hardened peak of your nipple, making you let out the most delicious little moan into his mouth. He took the opportunity to lick against your tongue, tasting you.

“Your body is incredible,” Eddie muttered against your lips. “So fucking hot.” His large hands trailed to your back, feeling the skin there before dropping down to grip your ass, hardly covered by your panties at all. It was all too much for Eddie, he was worried he was going to bust right then and there.

“Need you now,” he growled, rolling you over so he was between your legs. His boxers were pushed down just enough to reveal his aching cock, your t-shirt pushed up over your tits. He slipped his hands beneath your panties and pulled them down, tossing them onto his floor.

“I don’t have a condom,” he said just as he lined himself up at your entrance. “Shit.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “I still want it.”

His resolve was so weakened by that point, he didn’t care about the potential consequences. He dragged his cock through your folds, feeling your wetness. His tip pressed against your hole, and you drew in a sharp breath.

“S’big,” you mumbled, which just made Eddie’s chest swell with pride.

“Yeah, baby?” He kissed your neck, biting down and sucking hard, leaving a mark. He wanted everyone at school tomorrow to know who had fucked you.

“Yeah,” you said softly, the word turning to a whine as Eddie pushed inside of you. The stretch was more than you imagined, more full than you’d ever felt.

“Oh, christ,” Eddie moaned, feeling his cock fully enveloped by your pussy for the first time. It was like heaven. Eddie had never felt anything so incredible in his life, the perfect, tight heat of your cunt surrounding him sending his mind reeling.

“Eddie,” you whimpered. “Please fuck me.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. He pulled his hips back, leaving only his tip inside. He rolled his hips into you, sinking all the way back inside, and he moaned like he never wanted to feel anything else for the rest of his life.

Eddie set a comfortable pace, nothing too fast yet because he wanted to enjoy it and not cum in 2 seconds. A nice, steady, slow pace, pressing so deeply into you every time he thrusted in that it felt like you could feel him everywhere.

“Jesus, baby,” he moaned as he fucked you slow and deep, his face buried in your neck. “You’re so tight. I can’t believe how fuckin’ tight you are. I never knew it would feel this fuckin’ good.”

“Want more, Eddie,” you begged. “Please.”

Eddie increased the speed of his hips, the slap slap slapping sound getting louder in the small trailer as he fucked himself into you deeper and faster. His hips were pounding into you at a desperate pace, his old bed creaking, headboard thudding into the wall, leaving chips in the paint.

Liquid heat spread throughout his body, from his core through every limb. His thighs trembled as he neared his orgasm, your pussy tightening around him in a way that had him seeing stars.

“‘m close, Eddie,” you moaned. “Gonna cum all over your cock.”

“Yeah baby, that’s it. Show me. Show me how good my cock makes you feel.”

You guided one of his hands down between your bodies to press against your clit. He got the message quickly, rubbing circles on it, building you higher and higher. You felt yourself climbing, nearly there-

You came around him hard, pussy throbbing around him as you drained his cock for every drop. Your orgasm set his own off, and he was pumping his load into you, your greedy pussy begging him for more, wanting everything he had to give.

Eddie pumped his hips into you until there was nothing left, until you were both too sensitive to do anything more. He pulled out of you and laid on the bed, an arm out for you to cuddle into. You took the invitation, cuddling against his sweaty body.

“You know how you were worried it would change things between us?” you asked quietly, only over the sound of both of your breathing.

“Yeah?” Eddie said. “What about it?”

“Maybe it should change things between us. I don’t know if I want to be your friend anymore.”

Eddie furrowed his brows. “What?”

“Maybe,” you said, “I want to be more.”

“What? Like…you wanna be my girlfriend?”

“Is that what you want?” You felt anxiety for the first time that night, realizing that Eddie might not feel the same. That this might have really been just a casual fuck for him.

“Fuck yeah, that’s what I want,” Eddie said, laughing. “Will you? Be my girlfriend?”

“Yes, Eddie Munson,” you giggled. “I will be your girlfriend.”

tag list

@missjadesfics @swiftieintheupsidedown @fandom-princess-forevermore @ali-r3n @playboysweetie @losingmygrasponreality @samslvrgirl @ratsematary @cheesesandwichsanto @rainybloo28 @angxlg0dz @mopeymopeymouse @strangerthing93 @bellalillyrose @awkward00noodle @hannahmassey30 @xplrnowornever @thestrals-and-firewiskey @badasspizzalover @parodsal000 @charmed-asylum @kyber4crystal @jeangeniex @fearlessreid

[pucksandpower]

Ruin the Friendship

Max Verstappen x best friend!Reader

Summary: you and Max refuse to confess your feelings for each other in fear of ruining your friendship. Naturally, Max chooses to ruin every date with another man you go on instead

You can’t remember a time when Max Verstappen wasn’t your best friend.

The two of you grew up together, playing in the streets of Hasselt since before you could walk. Your parents joke that you learned to crawl just so you could keep up with him.

As you got older, your friendship only grew stronger. You were inseparable, there for each other through all the ups and downs of childhood and adolescence. When Max’s karting career took off, you were his biggest supporter, traveling all over Europe on weekends whenever you could to cheer him on at races.

After he moved to Monaco when he joined Red Bull, Max begged you to come with him. “I can’t do this without my best friend by my side,” he said. You didn’t hesitate — there was nowhere you would rather be than with Max.

Now you live together in his apartment in Monte Carlo. Mornings are spent on his balcony overlooking the glistening Mediterranean, drinking coffee and chatting about everything and nothing. Evenings are filled with video games, movies, and dreams of the future.

You know everything about each other, from favorite foods to secret fears. You trust Max more than anyone else in the world. He’s your person, the other half of your soul. Sometimes you think you love him as more than a friend, but you’d never risk what you have. If you lost Max, you’d lose yourself.

Today is like any other day. Max is sitting next to you on the couch, focused intently on crushing you in Mario Kart. You’re trying your best, but he’s just too good.

“Yes!” Max pumps his fist in the air as he wins yet again. “Too easy!”

You roll your eyes and shove him playfully. “Whatever, I let you win.”

He laughs. “Sure you did.” His smile makes your heart skip a beat.

You’re about to suggest another round when Max’s phone rings. He grabs it off the coffee table. “It’s Christian,” he says. “Probably wants to go over strategy for the race this weekend. I better take this.”

“No problem.” You stretch your arms over your head. “I’ll make us some lunch while you talk to him.”

Max answers the call as he makes his way out to the balcony. Through the glass door you see him pacing, one hand waving animatedly as he talks. You smile and head to the kitchen.

As you rummage through the fridge, you think about the race this weekend. You couldn’t be more proud of Max and everything he’s accomplished. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t worry every time he got into that car. Still, you know racing makes him happier than anything else in the world. And his happiness is what matters most to you.

You find the ingredients for Max’s favorite sandwich — nutella and banana. As you start spreading nutella on slices of bread, you hear Max call your name from the next room.

“Y/N! Come here, I need your opinion on something!”

You poke your head out of the kitchen. “Can it wait? I’m making lunch!”

“No, it’s urgent! Just come here!” He’s smiling like he has a secret.

You laugh, wiping your nutella-covered hands on a towel. “Alright, I’m coming!”

You make your way out to the balcony, wondering what Max wants your opinion on. With him, it could be anything.

“Ok, what’s up?” You ask.

Max grins and takes your hand, his eyes twinkling. “How would you feel about being my date to the FIA Gala this year?”

You stare at Max, stunned. “Your … your date? To the FIA Gala?”

He nods, still grinning. “Yeah! It’s next month in Baku. I could really use my best friend by my side for moral support on the big Red Carpet.”

Your mind is reeling. The FIA Gala is the biggest formal event of the Formula 1 season. All the top drivers and teams come dressed to the nines to celebrate the end of the championship. Rumors always swirl about who will bring the hottest date.

And Max wants you to be his.

“Are … are you sure?” You stammer. “Wouldn’t you rather bring a model or something?”

Max scoffs. “Please. You know I hate those stuffy events. But with you there cracking jokes and making fun of everybody with me, it might actually be fun for once!”

You can’t help but smile at the thought of being on Max’s arm. “Well, when you put it like that, how can I say no?”

“Yes!” Max pumps his fist. “This is going to be epic. I’ll have my team sort all the details. All you have to do is show up looking gorgeous.” He winks.

You blush slightly. “I think I can manage that.”

Over the next few weeks, Max’s stylist comes by the apartment for dress fittings. You settle on a couture emerald gown with a daring slit up the leg. The perfect blend of classy and sexy.

Max lets out a low whistle when you emerge from your suite the night of the gala. “You look incredible,” he says, staring at you in awe.

You smooth down the front of your dress self-consciously. “So do you.” Max cuts a sharp figure in his black tuxedo.

He offers you his arm. “Shall we?”

Your stomach flutters as you take it. You still can’t believe you’re Max’s date tonight. Part of you wishes it were real instead of just for show.

As predicted, jaws drop when you walk the red carpet on Max’s arm. Cameras flash furiously around you.

“They’re gonna think you’re my new girlfriend,” Max murmurs in your ear.

You laugh. “Let them think what they want.” But secretly, you wish the rumors were true.

The night flies by in a blur of champagne, dancing, and laughter. You and Max stay by each other’s side the whole time, laughing and judging everyone’s outfits. It’s the most fun you’ve had in ages.

On the ride back to the hotel, Max rests his head on your shoulder. “Thank you for coming with me tonight,” he says. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You kiss the top of his head. “That’s what best friends are for.”

But as you fall asleep that night, you can’t help but wonder if Max will ever see you as more than just his best friend.

***

Not long after coming back home, you’re getting ready for your first date since the FIA Gala. After seeing you all dressed up with Max, your friend Julian finally got the nerve to ask you out. You said yes, partly to stop constantly pining for Max.

You’re meeting Julian for dinner at a nice restaurant downtown. As you put the finishing touches on your makeup, Max lounges on your bed.

“I can’t believe you’re going on a date with Julian,” Max says, scowling. “That guy is so boring.”

You toss a pillow at him. “Stop it, he’s cute! I think it’ll be fun.”

Max catches the pillow and frowns. “What if I took you somewhere way better tonight instead?”

You pause your makeup application. “Wait, like a date?”

“What? No!” Max avoids your eyes. “Just as friends.”

You feel a twinge of disappointment. “Oh. Well, I already made plans with Julian.”

“Fine, go on your lame date,” Max grumbles. “But when Julian puts you to sleep talking about accounting, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You finish getting ready then head out to meet Julian. He greets you with a bouquet of flowers. “You look beautiful,” he says.

“Thanks!” You reply. The date starts off nicely. Julian is a perfect gentleman over dinner. But as the conversation wears on, you find yourself growing bored. Max was right, Julian is really dull.

Suddenly, you get a text from Max.

SOS come quick! Emergency at the apartment!

You frown, instantly worried. “Sorry Julian, I have to go. My roommate needs me.”

Julian looks disappointed but nods in understanding. “No problem. I’ll walk you out.”

You hurry home, anxious to make sure Max is okay. You burst through the apartment door. “Max! What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

Max looks up casually from the couch. “Oh hey Y/N. What’s up?”

“What’s up? You texted me that there was an emergency!”

“Oh yeah, we ran out of gummy bears,” he says, waving an empty bag. “I was hungry.”

Your jaw drops. “Are you serious, Max? I was on my date!”

Max grins. “Oops, my bad! But I saved you from dying of boredom with that guy. How about we order a pizza instead?”

You want to be mad at him for ruining your date. But looking at his smiling face, you can’t help but laugh. “You’re impossible,” you say, plopping down next to him.

Max just winks and hands you a controller. “Now come on, let’s see if you can actually beat me in Mario Kart this time.”

And just like that, you forget all about Julian and your ruined date. Nothing is nearly as fun as spending time with your best friend.

***

A few days later, you’re getting ready for another date, this time with a guy named Levi who you met online. He’s gorgeous with tattoos and an edgy style, totally your type.

When you tell Max about the date over breakfast, he nearly chokes on his eggs. “You can’t be serious. That dude looks like a complete tool.”

You roll your eyes as you grab your purse. “Don’t pretend you know anything about him. I think he’s hot and he seems cool.”

Max crosses his arms. “Well I don’t like it. How do you know this guy isn’t a total creep?”

“I appreciate your concern,” you say, “But I’m a big girl. I can handle myself on a date.”

Max opens his mouth to retort but you hold up a hand. “Nope, I don’t want to hear it! I’m running late as it is.” You give Max a quick hug. “Don’t wait up!”

You meet Levi at a trendy speakeasy bar downtown. He looks even hotter than his Tinder pics, with arm tattoos peeking out from under his leather jacket.

“Hey gorgeous,” he says with a crooked smile. He leans in for a lingering kiss on your cheek.

You blush. “Hi yourself.” Maybe Max was wrong about this guy.

You have a great time with Levi. The drinks are strong and the conversation is easy. After a few hours, Levi asks if you want to get out of there.

“I’d love to see your apartment,” you say with a flirtatious glance.

Levi grins. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

He pays the tab and you start walking to his place. As you turn a corner, you run straight into someone, nearly falling over.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorr-Max? What are you doing here?”

Max steadies you with his hands. “Y/N! Fancy running into you!”

You stare at Max in disbelief. “Did you follow me?”

Max avoids your gaze. “What? No, of course not. I was just in the neighborhood.”

You cross your arms. “I find that hard to believe.”

You stare at him in disbelief. Levi pipes up from behind you. “Uh, do you two know each other?”

“Unfortunately yes,” you reply tightly, not taking your eyes off Max.

Max finally meets your stare, his jaw clenched. “I was worried about you, okay? This guy looks like bad news.”

You scowl at him. “That’s not your call to make. I’m allowed to go on dates without you ruining them.”

Max’s shoulders slump. “I know, I’m sorry. I just care about you and want you to be safe.” He glances at Levi again uncertainly.

You soften a bit, seeing the genuine concern in Max’s eyes. You put a hand on his arm. “I appreciate you looking out for me, but I’ll be okay. See you at home later.”

You turn to Levi, who looks understandably confused. You loop your arm through his. “Shall we keep going?”

But as you walk away, the playful mood from earlier is gone. Levi tries to make conversation, but you’re preoccupied thinking about Max and the sad look on his face.

Levi invites you up to his apartment still, but your heart’s not in it anymore. You make an excuse and head home, feelings conflicted.

Max is on the couch when you storm in. “Hey! How was the date?”

You don’t answer, just grab a pillow and start smacking him with it.

“Ow!” Max holds up his hands, laughing. “What was that for?”

“You know exactly what it was for, you sneaky jerk! Sabotaging my date again.”

Max grins up at you impishly. “Maybe I just happened to be in the neighborhood.”

You keep hitting him with the pillow, but end up collapsing on the couch next to him, both of you breathless with laughter.

“You’re the worst,” you say between giggles.

Max drapes his arm around your shoulders. “Yeah but admit it, you love me anyway.”

You sigh and nestle against him. “Unfortunately yes, I do.”

And you know that no matter how many dates Max sabotages, he’ll always be your number one.

***

After the last two disastrous dates, you decide to take a break from dating for a while. But your coworker Jess convinces you to give it one more shot with a guy named Liam she met at her gym. Reluctantly, you agree to meet up with him.

The day of the date arrives and you get ready halfheartedly, already anticipating Max’s attempts to sabotage it. Speaking of Max, you realize you haven’t seen him all day, which is odd.

You find a note on the kitchen counter:

Had to fly to Milton Keynes last minute for work. Will be gone all weekend. Have fun on your date.

<3 Max

You’re surprised but also a bit disappointed. While his meddling is annoying, you’re so used to Max being a constant presence in your dating life. It will feel weird doing this without him.

You push that thought aside as you head out to meet Liam at a burger place. When you arrive, you’re pleasantly surprised. Liam is handsome, charming, and easy to talk to.

After lunch, you go on a walk through a nearby park. You’re having such a nice time, you don’t even think about Max. At the end of the date, Liam asks to see you again.

“I’d love to,” you say with a smile. Liam leans in for a sweet goodbye kiss.

As you turn to go, you hear a familiar voice yelling your name. “Y/N! There you are!”

You whirl around to see Max jogging towards you, slightly out of breath.

“Max? What are you doing here? I thought you had that work thing.”

Max shrugs nonchalantly. “Oh, it got canceled last minute.”

Liam looks between you two, confused. “Wait, is this the dude you live with?”

Before you can respond, Max strides up and vigorously shakes Liam’s hand. “Max Verstappen, nice to meet you! I’m Y/N’s … boyfriend.”

Your eyes nearly bug out of your head. “My WHAT?”

“Yeah babe, your boyfriend,” Max says, draping an arm around you. “Sorry I couldn’t make our date today, got held up at work. But who’s this guy you’re with?”

Liam stares wide-eyed at Max’s arm around you. “Uh, I should get going. See you around, Y/N.” He scurries off.

You shove Max away from you, fuming. “What the hell was that? Why did you pretend to be my boyfriend?”

Max shoves his hands in his pockets sheepishly. “I just couldn’t stand the idea of you dating that dude.”

“So you LIED? You scared him off forever!” You poke Max’s chest angrily.

He grabs your hand. “I’m sorry! I don’t know why I did that. I was jealous and I wasn’t thinking straight.”

You search his face and see real remorse in his eyes. Your anger starts to fade.

“Jealous? Why would you be jealous, Max?” Your voice comes out barely above a whisper.

He takes a shaky breath. “Because the truth is, I’m in love with you. As more than a friend. I have been for a long time. Seeing you with those other guys made me realize I couldn’t stand not being with you myself.”

You stand frozen, stunned into silence. Max rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Please say something.”

You finally find your voice again. “Took you long enough, idiot.”

And you grab his shirt and kiss him deeply. Max grins against your lips, wrapping you in his arms.

“No more sabotaging my dates,” you murmur.

“Deal,” Max whispers. “As long as I can be your one and only from now on.”

You answer by kissing him again under the setting sun. At long last, you finally have your dream guy.

***

The next morning, you wake up in Max’s arms, still unable to believe the incredible turn your relationship has taken. Last night after the park, you came home and talked for hours, admitting your true feelings while cuddled up on the couch. You kissed and kissed until you both finally fell asleep tangled together.

Now in the light of day, your worries start to creep in. What if this ruins your friendship? What if you’re not meant to be more than best friends?

You untangle yourself from Max’s embrace and go to make coffee. He finds you a few minutes later on the balcony overlooking the sea.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Max says, wrapping his arms around you from behind. He kisses your shoulder.

You turn in his arms to face him. “Can we talk about this?”

He frowns slightly. “Talk about what?”

You gesture between the two of you. “This new aspect of our relationship. I’m just worried it will mess things up. Maybe we should take a step back and think things through?”

Max’s face falls. “You’re having second thoughts?”

“No, not second thoughts exactly. I care about you so much Max, as my best friend. I don’t want to ruin that.”

Max caresses your cheek. “You could never ruin our friendship. It means everything to me too. But we both deserve to be happy, and I know we can make each other happy in this new way as well. I’m willing to take that chance if you are.”

You search his earnest eyes. He’s right — your connection runs so much deeper than just friendship. And you trust Max. If anyone is worth taking this risk for, it’s him.

You take his hand and intertwine your fingers. “You’re right. I want to make this work.”

Relief washes over Max’s face. He leans in and kisses you softly. “I promise you won’t regret it. I’ll be the best boyfriend ever!”

You laugh. “Well in that case, take me on our first official date tonight!”

“It would be my pleasure.” Max strokes your hair. “Thank you for taking a chance on me. On us. I know we’re meant to be, schatje. I’ve loved you all my life.”

“I’ve loved you all my life too,” you whisper. And you know that no matter what happens, your bond with Max will never break.

The future has yet to be written, but you’re ready to face it hand-in-hand with the man who has always had your heart.

[dickgraysonisnothereforthis]

Jason Todd x gn mean!reader

I love you mean!reader take jason by the balls like he deserves

(Short, fluff, established relationship)

Swearing, no use of y/n

———

“Shit.” The knife slips off the onion yet again and Jason feels like driving it into the countertop. Instead, he takes another go at the onion and almost nicks his finger.

He throws the knife onto the cutting board with a clatter. This is so fucking stupid. Jason is exhausted and starving and at his wit’s end. All he wants is to make himself some pasta, why can’t he cut this goddamn onion?

It isn’t helping that he came home pissed to begin with. The night was a complete waste of his time. He’s spent weeks sniffing around for one of Bane’s weapons shipments and finally tracked it down to a warehouse on the south side. Jason had got himself all gussied up to go in guns blazing, but he kicked in the door of an empty warehouse. They had already cleared the fuck out, they were one step ahead of him. It was so goddamn embarrassing, all he could do was shuffle home in the rain and try not to picture how Bane was probably laughing at him.

And now even this onion is getting the best of him. Can’t Jason have anything?

He perks up as he hears the clank of your key in the lock. You’re home, thank god. He abandons the onion and goes to meet you at the door.

“Hey, babe.” Your cheeks are pink from the cold. Jason ignores your words and pulls you into his arms, jamming his face into your neck. Your hand comes up to card through his hair. “Huh. Rough night?”

He grunts, and you huff out a laugh. “Aw, poor baby.”

“It was so fucking stupid,” he mutters. “How was your work dinner?”

“Fine. Nothing to report. Drinks went on forever.” You slide your fingers under his shirt and pinch at his waist. “You eat yet?”

“Hm.” He bites lightly at your neck. You tug sharply at his hair. “C’mon, Jay, you have to eat.” You gently shove him aside so you can slip out of your coat and slip off your shoes.

“‘M trying to,” he sulks.

You raise your eyebrows. “Well, what does that mean?”

He sighs, gesturing toward the kitchen, and you go investigate. “Couldn’t cut the fucking onion,” he grumbles. It’s so annoying; normally he’s not a complete idiot in the kitchen, but tonight his skills are failing him.

“Ah,” you say as you approach the cutting board. “Well, unfortunately, you’ve done it wrong.” You take his place at the countertop. Grabbing the knife, you hold it to the onion but then stop, turning to squint at him. “You want me to do it?”

Jason looks at you blankly. You nod. “You want me to show you how to do it or just do it?”

He smiles ruefully. “Good.” You start slicing. “Didn’t want to teach you anything, anyway.”

Jason sighs contentedly, putting his arms around your waist and leaning into your back. Your work steadily for a few minutes, before nudging him with your shoulder. “What were you going to put in the sauce?”

“Garlic,” Jason shrugs. “Onion.”

“Hm. It would be better with cherry tomatoes. And white wine.”

“Mm.”

“Go get the tomatoes. And the wine from the fridge,” you order. Jason blows meaningfully at your neck. “Please,” you add.

Jason knocks his head lightly against yours, then goes to get the requested ingredients. Soon, you’re frying up the onions, garlic, and tomatoes, pouring in some white wine, and setting some water to boil. Jason half-heartedly offers to help, but you take one look at him and wave him off. Fifteen minutes later you’re handing him a fork and sliding a bowl of pasta his way.

He digs in hastily. “Thanks, babe.”

You smile in satisfaction, stealing his fork to take a bite. “Hm. Pretty good.”

Jason wolfs it down before getting up for seconds. He grins at you, and you smile softly back. “Fuckin’ delicious.”

“Damn right. I’m gonna shower.” You move toward the bedroom, pulling your shirt over head. Jason gets momentarily distracted by your bare skin.

“Tsk.” He glances at your face, you’re smirking at him. “Eyes up here, big guy.”

“Can’t blame me for lookin’, sweetheart.” Jason smiles cockily at you, and you roll your eyes.

“Finish your dinner.” You turn back to the bathroom.

He picks up his fork. “I’m cleaning up,” he offers.

“You bet you are.” Jason grins cheekily, and you disappear into the bathroom.

———

He needs to be bullied.

[un-petit-sanctuaire]

Recipe for a Birthday

Pairing: Sylus x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Rating: General

Word Count: ±900

Summary: You’re trying your best to bake Sylus’s birthday cake.

Author’s Note: The story is set right one day before his birthday. Happy birthday, Sylus! ♡

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ ˚✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ ˚✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ ˚✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ ˚✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡ ˚✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡

It isn’t perfectly curated Protocores or brilliantly shiny gems that make a birthday truly special.

Not for Sylus, at least.

For him, it’s simpler, quieter—it’s you.

You may not realize it, but just having you here in his kitchen—dusted with flour and scented like vanilla—is all that matters. From where he stands, leaning on the doorway with arms crossed, his crimson eyes dart around following your every move: rolling dough, measuring ingredients. He’s studying everything, grinning absentmindedly at your every gesture. The way your brows furrow when you double-check the recipe, how your nose scrunches up when you nearly spill the milk, and the little bounce in your step when you finally get the measurements just right.

You may look messy, but to him, you’re radiant. You’re real.

And gods, how long has he yearned for this?

His mind drifts to fleeting memories: the lair, the organ in the middle of the cathedral, the datura field. With you now in an apron in front of him, those days feel so far away. You’re here now. In his kitchen. Celebrating his birthday. It feels like he’s been waiting a lifetime for this moment—for the chance to simply admire his beloved.

No chaos. No battle cries. Just you.

You’re finally his again.

“This is ridiculous,” your voice snaps him back to the kitchen. You huff looking at your half-done work, entirely oblivious to Sylus’s presence behind you in the doorway. “I’m sure I’m already following everything on the recipe.”

He doesn’t say anything, though—just lets out a chuckle, which gives himself away.

“Sylus!” You turn around and sigh. “What did I say about entering the kitchen?”

The corners of his lips tug further upwards, his tone feigning innocence. “Sweetie, I’m just standing here.”

“You’re leaning there and grinning like that, which is worse. Besides, you’re going to spoil the surprise. I’m not letting you see this birthday cake until it’s done.”

He honestly doesn’t care much about the cake. It could taste like cardboard with frosting, and he’d still appreciate it—and eat it wholeheartedly.

To you, however, making the cake feels like a matter of national defense. It needs to be perfect. The whole day tomorrow with Sylus needs to be. After all, from your recollection, this is your first time celebrating his birthday. And you already have everything planned—a trip to the wildlife park, a Lil S birthday badge, an invitation letter.

What could go wrong?

The cake. It looks off. It tastes off. Are you even doing this properly? You thought about adding fruit—pomegranates? Oranges? But how do you even make that work? You planned to draw a dragon with frosting as well—but are you even creative enough? Skilled enough?

Your dedication is endearing to him, nevertheless.

As if sensing your frown-fueled frustration, Sylus steps farther into the room, prompting you to hurriedly slam the recipe book shut. Ignoring your flustered action, he cups your face in his large hand.

“Kitten, I’m sure it will turn out great,” his thumb gently brushes a flour-dusted line on your cheek. “And if it doesn’t... I’ll still eat it. Even if it gives me a stomachache.”

“Sylus!”

His laughter rings as he gives your head a gentle pat. “But I doubt I’ll have to risk my life for it. You always pull it off in the end—not because it’s perfect, but because a certain hunter has worked so hard to make it for me.”

You feel a bit more at ease. He always has that quiet kind of reassurance—the kind that makes you feel safe and secure without needing many words. You know full well that to him, a flawed cake is still a perfect cake. And yet, you can’t help but want it to be just right. After everything he’s endured, he deserves nothing less.

You’re just about to tiptoe toward him when a loud bang and a flurry of eager footsteps make you both jump apart. Luke and Kieran present themselves, bursting into the doorway with shopping bags in hand.

“MISS HUNTER! WE ARE—whoops—”

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt—”

“It’s alright, boys,” you quickly wave your frosting-smeared spatula. “Just put those on the counter, please. Oh, and please do kindly escort your boss-man out of the kitchen before I turn him into one of my cake decorations.”

With a synchronized “Yes, Miss Hunter,” they march in, ready to drag the Onychinus’s leader away. “Boss, time for a strategic extraction,” Kieran chirps. “Classified operations in the kitchen, Boss. You’re not cleared,” Luke adds.

“The twins are your henchmen now?” Sylus shakes his head. “Sweetie, I have to sa—”

He doesn’t get the chance to finish, however. Before the twins get to him, you tiptoe once again, cutting him off with a bold kiss and silencing the protest right off his lips.

“Shush. I have the potential to take over Onychinus, yes, yes,” you say casually as you pull away. “Well, happy advanced birthday, Sylus. Let me finish this cake in peace and I might just consider that job offer—if you’re lucky enough.”

The Big Boss himself hasn’t managed to produce any reaction as Luke and Kieran stop in their tracks, visibly trying to avert their eyes.

“Did you see anything?”

“What? Nope. No, yeah, nothing—oh, wow, would you look at that sky? It’s so bright today—”

“Out.” You point toward the hallway with mock sternness. “Stop distracting me, all of you.”

The twins scramble to obey, dragging Sylus out with them—though he keeps glancing over his shoulder, trying to register what just happened.

Seems like his birthday is already perfect—and it hasn’t even started yet.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐤

Suguru Getou & Kento Nanami

[Chapter 1] A Very Special Birthday

Story Masterlist - Next Chapter →

Pairing: Suguru Getou x f!Reader x Kento Nanami

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“Mommy.” There’s someone poking your face over and over again, very early in the morning. It’s a lot of work for you to get your eyes open, but you eventually get them open to find your now three-year-old with a bright smile on her face. Her energy is infectious which causes you to smile as well. You fill up her face with kisses until she stops you, claiming, “Brush your teeth.”

“You could be nicer, Sayuri.” You respond with a chuckle. You stand up from the bed and walk to the bathroom to start your morning. You rush this morning since you want to rush to be by your baby’s side. But when you exit the bathroom, she isn’t in your room. You furrow your brows, but your eyes land on the half open door. You catch the smell of the delicious food, and you immediately know who else is joining you in the apartment.

You walk out of your room to find your daughter pulling the hem of her father’s pants. His back is to you since he’s facing the stove. He doesn’t wear anything special today even though it’s a very special day; just black jeans, and a long black sleeve shirt that’s rolled up to show off his sleeves of tattoos– And because it’s hot since he’s near a stove. You hear Suguru tell her, “Why don’t you wait by the table, princess? I’m scared you’ll get burned if you’re around here.”

“I wanna help.” She says but he’s hearing none of it. And to help out Suguru, you walk over to them and pick her up from the floor. You kiss her face over and over again.

“There’s my sweet birthday girl. How are you, honey?” You ask, and there’s a bright smile on her face. She forgets about the fact that she wants to help out her father, and remembers the fact that it’s her very special day; she’ll forget about it in a couple of minutes, but she gets so very excited when she remembers. “How does it feel to be three?”

“Good.” She answers. Suguru finally gets her breakfast off the stove and cuts it into small pieces for his precious daughter. He opens the fridge and he asks,

“You want whipped cream on your pancakes?” And she almost bursts your eardrums as she yells back a very enthusiastic yes. It’s a very special occasion, of course Suguru is going to spoil his little princess. When the sweet breakfast is ready, he sets it down on the table for her, and you put her down so she can take a seat.

You glance at it, pancakes smothered in syrup with some strawberries and blueberries on top– And of course, the whipped cream the Suguru added. You two watch as she begins to eat, and when she takes her first bite, Suguru says, “I made some pancakes for you too.”

“You better, or else I would’ve kicked you out.” You joke, although he takes the threat seriously. He did use your stove and your ingredients to make the breakfast, the very least he could do is make some for you. You prepare your plate, watching how Suguru takes a seat next to his daughter. You speak up, “Didn’t you make anything for yourself?”

“I had some breakfast with Kumi.” He answers, and your brows raise. You don’t give it much thought though, that’s his girlfriend. You just were expecting him to have breakfast with his daughter, that’s all. At the very least, he sits next to her after making her a delicious plate of food. He focuses his attention on his daughter, laughing as she makes a mess. “Is that good, princess? You seem to enjoy it.”

“Yes.” She answers with her mouth still full of food, which is something that Suguru would usually reprimand her for but he lets it slide this morning. You walk over to the table and take the other seat beside her, quietly beginning to eat. 

Suguru watches his greatest gift, a subtle smile on his lips. Her birth wasn’t all that ideal since your pregnancy wasn’t planned at all but she became his whole world when he first listened to her heartbeat. You were friends with Suguru, and after he broke up with his girlfriend, he needed a rebound. You were also having some romantic problems, and it ended up in you seeking comfort in each other. Your relationship (if it can even be called that) ended a couple months after, when he got back with his girlfriend, Kumi. Your friendship practically ended because there was no way you could go back to normal after hooking up, in the end, you had no option but to go back to being friends since you were pregnant.

Your pregnancy was rather… A weird one. When you found out, your first thought was to get an abortion since you weren’t with Suguru, but when you told him the news, the man almost begged you to keep the baby. After much pondering, you decided to keep your daughter and to raise her alongside Suguru, even if you weren’t together. He moved in shortly after, and lived with you for the first two years of her life, moving out recently to be with his on-and-off girlfriend.

Luckily, you have no complaints about them. Kumi is a wonderful figure for your daughter, and while you aren’t friends, you are civil with each other. She has a good reason to not like you, plus, she’s not the easiest woman to get along with.

“What do you want to do today, Sayuri?” You ask. You’ll be having a small birthday party later in the night, but you don’t have anything planned out for the day. She puts her tiny index finger on her chin, tilting her head slightly to the side. She thinks about what she wants to do, she just has so many options.

“I have a very busy day, so I won’t be able to join you.” Suguru answers, and you’re surprised that he booked clients today of all days. The past two birthdays the man refuses to do any tattoos because he wants to spend all day with his daughter. It seems that his priorities slowly shift… He’s been working a lot lately though, and you might have an idea why.

“It’s alright, Kento is joining us.” You respond, and you watch him roll his eyes, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He tries to act like it doesn’t bother him, but you know it does. You don’t understand why he’s so hostile with Kento, the pair used to get along well before Sayuri was born, but they seem to butt heads since her birth.

“Doesn’t he have to work?” He asks, and you shake your head in response.

“He asked for the day off.” You tell him, and he scoffs. You can’t help but ask, “Why are you so… Annoyed by it?”

“Sayuri, when you’re done, can you go to your room to change out of your pajamas?” He looks at his daughter, and her brows furrow.

“I haven’t told mommy yet.” She answers, and Suguru sweetly smiles at her.

“You will in a minute, I have to talk to her about something. It’s a surprise.” He lies to lure her away, but she doesn’t easily fall for it. Her ears perk up at the mention of a surprise, which clearly wasn’t Suguru’s best option of words.

“I wanna know.” She says, and Suguru shakes his head. She gives him doe eyes, hoping that’ll help persuade her father since it’s worked in the past. It doesn’t though. 

“It’s a surprise. If you know then I won’t be able to give it to you.” Suguru responds, and she has no option but to stand up from her chair and walk to her room. When she tries to slam the door of her room, Suguru speaks up, “Why does he act like he’s her father? Are you two dating or what?”

“If we were dating, it’d be none of your business. We’re just friends anyway, he just wants to be there for her.” You tell him, and of course he rolls his eyes. He doesn’t like that, it’s clear that Kento is trying to be a parental role and Suguru doesn’t like that. Sayuri has one father, that’s all she needs. “She adores Kento anyway.”

“Isn’t he coming to the birthday party? Isn’t that enough?” Suguru replies. You click your tongue, annoyed by his response.

“He took the day off to come with us, the very least I can do is allow him.” You answer, and he stands up from the chair to clean up. You’re not telling Kento to stay home because of the simple fact that Suguru doesn’t like the man– He chose to work today, that’s his own fault.

“I’m Sayuri’s father.” He says, and you chuckle. 

“I didn’t say otherwise, Kento is not even my boyfriend.” You stand up as well, grabbing your plate and taking it to the sink as Suguru begins to do the dishes.

“He likes you.” Suguru states, and you let out a sigh. Suguru always had the bad habit of accusing every man that looks your way of liking you. You had serious problems with his jealousy when you were seeing each other.

“I wish. He’d be the perfect step father for Sayuri.” You comment, and he clenches his jaw. He’s about to say something about it, but Sayuri calls your name and you rush to her aid.

“Need help.” She says, and you rush to her side to help her change into the outfit that she picked out. You help her put on the yellow dress and the black leggings, before going to the bathroom to grab her hair products to style her hair. You sit on her bed, and she kneels in front of you so you can brush her hair.

“Did you pick, baby? What do you want to do?” You ask her, hoping it’ll take her mind off the fact that you’re doing her hair. Each of your movements always results in a whine from her, even though you’ve barely touched her hair. 

“Playground? Please?” She responds, and you hum in response. You knew she’d land on something similar. You feel Suguru’s eyes on you, staring from the doorway, watching as you do his daughter’s hair. 

“What are you doing, Suguru? It’s weird for you to just stare.” You tell him, grabbing one of Sayuri’s bee hair clips and putting it in the front of her hair.

“Just waiting for you to finish, I have to get going soon.” Suguru says, and Sayuri rises from the floor, running to her father. He picks her up from the floor and kisses her cheek. He caresses her cheek, “Happy birthday, princess. I love you.”

“I love you.” She answers, and it makes the man smile from ear to ear.

“I’ll come back with your present, princess. You’re going to love it.” He kisses her cheek again before putting her down on the floor. He waves at you, and before he can go you speak up,

“Are you still showing up to help me set up?” He nods in response. You awkwardly smile at him before waving, and he waves again before walking away.

“Can we go?” Sayuri asks, and you shake your head.

“Girl, I’m still in my pajamas. Wait for me to get ready.” You chuckle, and she sticks out her bottom lip. You stand up and begin to walk out of the room, and she follows behind you. She never leaves you alone, and honestly, you’re glad she doesn’t.

“Mommy, hurry.”

You keep a close eye on Sayuri as she runs around. You often wonder how so much energy resides in such a small body. She’s sweating as she goes down the slide and quickly runs to go up again. She happily does it over and over again, and you almost laugh, knowing that after the second time you’d be too tired to go up the slide again.

So focused, you miss the man that approaches you, until he finally greets you. You put your hand over your heart, spooked by him. He notices and apologizes, and you stand up from the bench. You playfully hit his arm before giving him a side hug.

“How are you, Kento? I didn’t expect you to come so fast.” You take a seat again, and he takes a seat next to you. He searches the playground, and he spots Sayuri quickly. She’s wearing something yellow, it seems to be her favorite color lately.

“I have nothing to do this morning, so of course I came to see my two favorite girls.” He says, and you immediately think of Suguru. He’s plaguing your mind with stupid ideas. Kento simply isn’t very popular with women, so of course you and your daughter are his favorite girls. “How has she been doing today? Does she realize it’s her birthday?”

“She does, had to tell her like three times but now she knows. She’s using it to her advantage too.” You share, and it makes a chuckle escape his lips. He expected nothing less from her, in fact, he’s proud. “She’s expecting a big gift from you.”

“And she will get one. I’ll give it to her at her birthday party.” He assures you. You love the fact that he spoils her, he’s the absolute sweetest with her. Suguru gets jealous over the fact that Kento is trying to become a father figure to your daughter, but you think it’s sweet. Plus, Kento is more of an uncle than a wannabe father. “Did you already eat breakfast?”

“Suguru came over and made us something.” You answer, and his brows raise, surprised. You don’t understand his reaction though, Suguru always shows up for his daughter. Kento should know better than anyone. Then you hear his stomach growl and you chuckle, reaching into your bag to pull out a snack for him, “I expected you of all people to have eaten something.”

“I’ll just get something to eat after this.” He doesn’t take the snack from your hands, assuming that it’s for Sayuri. He doesn’t want to take something that’s supposed to be for your daughter. You insist that he takes the snack, forcing his palm open and putting the bag in his grasp.

“We’re going out to lunch after this, but that’ll take a while. I have other food packed for Sayuri.” You insist, and Kento opens the small bag of chips. You laugh, looking at the other stuff that you have packed. “She’ll be eating baby carrots.”

“Baby carrots? She’s going to hate me.” He responds, almost spitting out the chips in his mouth because of his sudden regret– He then realizes just how fucking gross that is so he continues chewing slowly. 

“She likes baby carrots, you’ll be fine. Just hide the bag– She’s coming over now.” You warn him, and he hides the bag behind him. Sayuri’s eyes land on him, and she runs over to him with open arms, causing the man to stand up from his seat and crouch down. He welcomes her warm hug, a smile on his lips.

“I missed you, Nanamin.” It makes Kento hug her tighter, but his grip loosens since he gets scared that he’s hurting her in any way. He comes around a lot, but lately he’s gotten too busy. You’re the one that sees him, Sayuri spends the night with her father and you go out with Kento. But their usual princess movie marathons haven’t been happening, and she can’t remember the last time she played dolls with the man that’s in front of her. He kisses her temple before saying,

“I missed you too, Sayuri. Happy birthday.” He responds, and she thanks him. She walks over to you, and Kento retakes his seat. 

“Want my snack.” She tells you, and you reach into your bag to pull out the baby carrots.

“What do you say?” You ask her, and she shrugs.

“I’m hungry.” She answers, and you can only blame Suguru for it. You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth.

“Please, you say please.” You correct her. You give her the baby carrots, and she quietly begins to munch on them. It makes Kento feel less bad about the fact that he’s eating her bag of chips. He quietly brings it out of hiding, and her eyes light up when she notices it. She extends her small palm out and gives him puppy eyes.

“Can I have some, please?” She puts on her sweetest voice, and she magically remembers the word that seems to slip her mind. Kento isn’t going to refuse. He forgets he’s hungry and how his stomach feels uncomfortable, and he gives her the whole bag of chips. She squeals happily, thinking she has the best uncle in the world, little does she know that the chips are originally hers and he stole them. 

“What do you want for lunch?” Kento asks her while she stuffs her mouth. She ends up shrugging, not having anything in mind since the only thing she wants to eat is the chips that she holds in her hand. Your hand goes to her back and rests on it while you look down at her.

“Do you want a burger, baby? You were begging for one last night.” You suggest, and her eyes light up as she looks up at you. She nods her head in response, getting excited at the thought of eating a cheeseburger with fries. “Then we’ll get one.”

“I was just thinking of a burger too. Great minds think alike.” Kento comments, and she hums in response. She finishes her bag of chips and runs back to the playground. Leaving you alone, you talk with Kento about your lives, mostly joking around with each other.

You dress Sayuri in her special outfit, one that she picked out for this very important occasion. She wanted to look like a certain princess that has a yellow dress, a princess that’s become her favorite for the simple fact that the outfit she wears is her favorite color. You have to prepare the place for her birthday party, and while you were expecting Suguru to show up and help you out, he leaves you stranded. Luckily, you can call Kento for backup and he comes running to aid you; with his help, you manage to get the house and everything ready.

“Are you okay?” Kento asks, when he catches you washing some dishes. He cleaned everything up, so he wonders why you’re cleaning everything again. And why you’re doing it so harshly. Waiting for an answer is useless. He grows impatient. “Does this have to do with Suguru?”

“He told me he was going to come here to help. His family, my family, our friends, and some of Sayuri’s daycare friends. And look at him, he’s not here. He’s not answering my calls either.” You say. “He’s a son of a– You know what? Go check on Sayuri. I have to finish this.”

“You sure? I can finish up here and you can get ready…” Kento offers, but you shake your head in response. You’re far from ready, but in order to relax yourself you need to clean up. It’s odd, but it’s the way you relax. “I’ll go check on her then.”

When you finish rewashing the dishes, you look for another chore to redo. But you look at the time, and realize that you do have to start getting ready. You take a moment to check up on Kento and Sayuri, finding them playing with her dolls before you walk to your room. You leave the door open and change your outfit into something that isn’t your rags, and you put on some light makeup. You don’t put in a lot of effort into it but you manage to look cute. Presentable for your guests.

“You look beautiful.” Kento says when he sees you again. The corner of your lips turn upward, and you mutter a thank you. Your daughter tries to force Kento to pay attention to the rag doll that’s in his hands, and she does so best by hitting him with the plush that’s in her hand. You give her a mom look which is enough to scare her; you’re grateful for it because it’s her birthday and you have no intention of raising your voice at her. 

“Sorry, Nanamin.” She sticks out her bottom lip, something that always works when she needs to be forgiven. He wraps his arms around her, assuring her that it’s okay. She pulls away and asks you, “When is daddy coming?”

“I don’t know, honey. He should get here soon.” You answer. You wish you could reach the man that’s ignoring your calls. He’ll probably show up around the time guests do so you won’t be able to berate him. Knowing him, he’ll leave before you can even get a word in. You think about calling him again, even though you have a feeling your call will go unanswered for the umpteenth time. You then tell her, “Clean up your toys. People will get here soon.”

“Okay.” She answers, and she takes the rag doll from Kento and begins to put them in her toy box. She leaves her favorite doll on her bed, and then walks to you. You grab her hand and take her to the table that you’ve decorated with her favorite princess. You pick her up and sit her down in the middle of the table.

“Let’s take some photos, baby.” You tell her, and you take out your phone to begin taking pictures of her. She smiles showing her teeth, clearly forcing herself to smile for the camera. It makes you laugh. You call Kento and he’s by your side within seconds. He knows what to do immediately, taking the phone from your hand as you walk over and pose by your baby’s side. Kento comments how good you both look and tells you to say “cheese” before snapping a couple of pictures.

“Your turn, Kento. Stand right next to her.” You take the phone from his hand and he poses next to her. The first picture is awkward, but then Sayuri stretches her arms up, wanting to be picked up. So he does it. The second picture is much cuter, and you swear you’ll print it out and frame it. Sayuri and her uncle Nanamin. It makes you say, “Let me take another picture. You two are so cute.”

You’re so caught up in what you’re doing that you don’t hear the front door open, and when you realize, it’s because Suguru’s voice enrages you, “Aw are taking pictures without me?”

“Let me take another one.” You completely ignore Suguru, deciding that yelling (your way of voicing your feelings at the moment) isn’t the best thing to do right now. You have your daughter that’s right in front of you. Suguru doesn’t like being ignored, if you don’t acknowledge him, neither will Kento. Sayuri only speaks up when Kento puts her on the ground, and that’s when she runs to her father, excited to finally see him again.

“There’s my princess. How are you doing, baby? I hope your day has been amazing.” Suguru kisses her cheeks when he picks her up from the ground. You cross your arms as you watch them, your eyes falling on Kumi who is staring back at you. Disdain in her eyes which makes you roll your eyes. You usually try to disguise your annoyance, but today you’re fed up with her and her boyfriend. You don’t have the energy to be nice to them.

“Kento, come with me to the kitchen, please.” You look at Kento, and he nods in response. He follows after you. He helps you out with what you need to finish up, doing so quietly since he senses you’re annoyed. He watches as you get more irritated as you hear Suguru and Kumi talking to your daughter.

“Surprised you didn’t yell at him.” Kento lowers his voice to talk to you, not wanting anyone to hear. You raise your brows, a sigh leaving your lips.

“Not while Sayuri is there.” You answer. You don’t want to cause a scene yet. The doorbell rings, and you have to take a deep breath. You need a minute to calm down. The man that’s next to you knows you like the back of his hand. He ends up saying,

“I’ll open the door.”

Interacting with everyone at first is hard, but you loosen up and stop paying attention to Suguru around an hour in. You’re celebrating your baby’s third year of life, you shouldn’t let Suguru ruin your night. You manage to ignore him at the beginning of the night, talking to friends and family, as well as paying attention to your daughter. 

There comes a moment that you do have to interact with him, and it’s when you have to sing happy birthday to your daughter. Even then, you don’t pay much attention to him. Kento turns off the lights and you light up three small candles before everyone begins to sing to your daughter. 

Her eyes glance at the tiny fires in front of her, and she’s too engrossed by it to pay attention to the people that sing to her. Until she hears her name, and she looks up at her father and then at you. You two chuckle, exchanging a look with each other before focusing back on her. When the song comes to an end, Suguru has to remind her, “Blow out the candles, princess.”

When she finally puts her lips together and blows out the candles, and the moment the candles are put out, Kumi steps out of the place which causes Suguru to run after her. Your annoyance is back and worse than before. You usually take pictures with her after the candle is blown out– Either during her birthday, Suguru’s, or yours, it’s your tradition. But he steps out for some reason.

“Where’s Suguru? I want to take some pictures.” Suguru’s mother asks when the lights are turned back on. Sayuri also looks around for her father, but she doesn’t spot him. Luckily, she spots Kento and she extends her hand and reaches out for Kento.

“Nanamin.” She calls out for him, and he runs to be by her side. That’s when you take your customary pictures, even if they aren’t with Suguru. Kento takes his place, and helps Sayuri cut the first slice of the cake. They both hold a knife and Kento sticks it into a corner of the cake. They serve the first slice, and they put it on a paper plate. Kento then gives it to her.

“You can eat it, honey. I’ll finish up here.” Kento tells her, and she gets off the chair that she stands on, walking to the couch to eat her slice of cake. Kento begins to serve everyone a slice, and you’re thankful that he’s by your side because you’re so close to losing it.

“Thank you.” You mutter to Kento, helping him serve the cake. You finish up, making sure there isn’t a single slice left for Suguru or Kumi, and you take a seat. 

Ten minutes later, they’re back inside, and Kumi looks annoyed. Suguru sighs and looks around before he says, “I hope there’s some cake left.”

“There isn’t.” You answer. You make sure to hum the next time you take another bite, wanting to make note of how good the cake is, and how he won’t be having any. Until your daughter gives her plate to her father, putting her hand over her tummy and announcing,

“I’m full.” He happily takes the plate from her. He offers some to his girlfriend, but she shakes her head in response. Her arms are crossed and she tries to make herself go unnoticed. Suguru tries to sit down on the empty spot next to you, which causes you to stand up and practically run elsewhere. 

Your anger doesn’t go unnoticed.

Shortly after, people begin to leave one by one. Sayuri wants to open her gifts, but you hold off till almost everyone is gone because you’re scared that she’ll react badly if she opens a gift she doesn’t like. Suguru’s parents are the last to leave, and you’re left with Kento, Suguru, Kumi, and your daughter, of course.

You’re about to pick a random gift to give to her, but Suguru says, “Open mine first!”

He grabs the gift that he wrapped for his baby girl, and he gives it to her. She unwraps it, and her tiny brows furrow. It’s a cute pink stuffed animal… She glares at her father and then says, “I don’t like it.”

“Huh? Kumi told me that it’s what kids want these days. Her niece has one and she loves it.” Suguru says, but that doesn’t change his daughter’s mind. She tosses it to the side, and while you’d lecture her about being grateful for her gift, you’re mad at Suguru. He deserves it for the awful gift.

“Nanamin.” She looks at Kento, and he raises his brows before realizing what she wants. He looks for his gift. He gives it to her, and her eyes light up when she unwraps it and sees a doll that she keeps seeing on TV. 

“What do you say, Sayuri?” You say, and she wraps her arms around Kento. He wastes no time in hugging her back.

“Thank you.” She responds, and Kento smiles.

“I’m glad you like it, Sayuri.” Kento replies. You watch Suguru’s face, full of contempt which almost makes you smirk. Maybe some other time you’d worry about his thoughts, how he probably thinks that Kento is trying to take his place. But you hope that’s what he’s thinking now, and hope that he’s seething at the fact that your daughter prefers Kento’s gift over his dumb one.

You continue passing her gifts but none surpass Kento’s. She goes to her room to play with her new toys, while Suguru, Kento, and you clean up the place. Kento and Suguru find themselves alone in the kitchen, and Kento tries his best to ignore the man’s presence. But Suguru clears his throat to get Kento’s attention.

“I know what you’re trying to do.” Suguru comments, making Kento raise his brows in utter confusion. Kento looks around, wondering if Suguru is talking to him.

“And what is that?” Kento asks, putting the plate that he scrubs down in the sink, washing the soap off his hands. He crosses his arms, turning his attention to Suguru. He repeats the question, “What am I trying to do, Suguru?”

“You’re trying to play dad and I don’t like that. She’s my daughter.” Suguru says, making a scoff come from Kento’s lips. Kento isn’t exactly a confrontational man, he usually tends to agree with people that are in the wrong simply to move on past a problem; he doesn’t have the energy to deal with it all. But he can’t keep quiet for some reason.

“Trying to play dad? By what exactly? By being decent to my best friend and her daughter? By getting her daughter a gift she actually wanted?” He questions, and the attitude that comes from Kento’s voice makes his blood boil. How dare Kento talk to him like that? Who does he think he is? “Last time I checked, I’m just being a good friend, and a great uncle to Sayuri. I’m sorry that I act as a better father figure than you.”

“Excuse me?” There’s full offense in Suguru’s voice. Kento isn’t lying– At least not in his eyes. Sure, Suguru has been a great father but lately he’s been putting other matters before his daughter. Luckily for Sayuri, Kento can step in for her father. 

“You heard me. Guess who spent most of the day with her? I did.” Kento responds. “I took her to lunch, and I was the one who came here to help set up the party. I’m starting to act more like her father than you.”

“I know you like her mother, but don’t you dare think that you’ll ever be anything like Sayuri’s dad. This is your first and only warning, Nanami.” Suguru sounds threatening, but Kento doesn’t take him seriously; at the very least, he doesn’t care. He won’t push it any further though, so Kento bites his tongue.

“Everything okay here?” You ask as you step into the kitchen. You couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but you knew they were talking even though the men never talk. Suguru is the one that speaks up,

“Why are you mad?” 

“Why do you think, Suguru?” You put your hand on your hip. “Doesn’t take a genius to figure that one out.”

He’s about to justify his actions– Not showing up to help set up, ignoring your calls, walking out right after singing happy birthday. He’s a guilty man, but he has to justify himself. And you know he does, and you stop him right on his tracks.

“Don’t. Not in the mood. Help Sayuri clean up her new toys and say goodnight. I can’t stand to look at you any longer.” You refrain from talking about his girlfriend because he’ll get upset, but you can’t stand having her in your house for another minute.

“Yes, ma’am.” Suguru answers, choosing his words carefully because he doesn’t want you to be mad at him. Suguru walks past you and out of the kitchen, and when he’s out of sight you walk to Kento. You kiss his cheek.

“Thank you for tonight, Kento. You’re simply the best.” He turns back to washing dishes because his face warms up, and he doesn’t want you to notice how his cheeks turn pink.

“You don’t have to thank me. I loved helping out.” And you stand still for a moment, watching how he washes your dirty dishes. You couldn’t have asked for a better friend. 

[brightlight-dazzlingeyes]

wait for me (to come home) | pedri gonzalez

✈️ synopsis: A long day melts away when Pedri’s call lights up your phone. tags: long-distance relationship, yearning, phone sex, light smut. (written in 2nd person but no mention of yn) (around 2k words)

The phone buzzes in your pocket just as you’re crossing the last busy intersection. You search with your bag, keys jingling inside, and finally swipe to answer. “Hey,” you say, your voice slightly breathless.

“Hey, bebé,” Pedri’s voice comes through.

The weight of the day is heavy on your shoulders – all the meetings, the crowded trains, and that faint ache in your cheeks from forcing smiles for too long. But his voice smooths it all out, like a sip of a warm cup of tea.

“How was your day?” you ask, stepping aside to avoid a couple walking hand in hand, their laughter breaking the silence around you.

“Long,” he admits, and you can picture him stretching as he speaks, his voice tilting back like his head. “But better now.”

He starts talking – about training and a bet Gavi lost that morning – and the background noise of his apartment filters through: the low sound of a TV, the clink of a cup on a table. His words fill the spaces around you, making the walk home feel less lonely.

By the time you’re climbing the stairs to your apartment, it feels like he’s climbed them with you. “Hold on,” you say, balancing the phone between your shoulder and cheek as you fumble for your keys.

The door swings open, and the familiar scent of clean laundry and your favorite candle greets you. You kick off your shoes, letting them land where they always do, and toss your bag onto the chair by the door.

“You still there?” you ask, suddenly realizing you’d left him hanging for a moment.

“Of course,” he says.

You set the phone on the counter, switching to Facetime as you shrug off your coat. “Okay, I’m home,” you announce, more for yourself than for him.

The screen brightens, and there he is – lounging on his couch, hoodie slightly rumpled, hair a little messy. “Hi,” he says, his face lighting up at the sight of you.

You laugh, opening the fridge. “So, what are you eating tonight?”

“I already ate,” he says, shifting around on the couch. “Now I get to sit here and judge your dinner choices.”

“Oh, great. Exactly what I need after today,” you say, scanning the shelves. “Hmm... leftovers, or... leftovers, or… leftovers?”

“Sounds tasty,” he says, giggling.

You lean against the fridge door, considering your options – or lack thereof. “I wanted something fresh, but I’m too tired for anything complicated.”

“Then don’t make it complicated,” he says simply.

You take a few ingredients out, set them on the counter, and start making your favorite quick comfort meal, all while Pedri watches through the screen. His gaze is somehow grounding, like he’s there in the kitchen with you. He teases you, making exaggerated reactions to your cooking process. You feel the heaviness of the day slipping away with every small laugh you share.

When your meal is done, you set the plate down on the table and settle into your chair. “Now what? Are you just going to watch me eat?”

“I miss watching you eat,” he says dramatically, then his tone softens. “I miss you.”

“Please don’t make me cry while I’m eating,” you say, half-laughing, half-serious.

“Just another week,” he says, putting on a big smile, like he’s reminding himself, too. You’ll be visiting him soon.

It’s insane, this whole situation. Long-distance was never something you thought you’d willingly sign up for. But it’s Pedri, and now it’s too late to turn back. You can’t imagine yourself with anyone else. Especially after a hard day at work, when all you want is the sound of his voice, the one voice that doesn’t make you feel more tired or annoyed with life.

“Just another week,” you repeat softly, taking another bite.

part 2

When you’re in bed, the phone gets propped up against a pillow, and you two start having those conversations, the kind you only have when it’s late, and the world outside your window is quiet. He talks about his plans for tomorrow, what training will look like, and you tell him about your week ahead, slipping your feet under the covers as you settle deeper into the pillows.

“I hate that I can’t just be there,” he says at some point.

You reach out instinctively, brushing your fingers over the screen, as if you could touch him. “Me too,” you admit, the lump in your throat betraying how much you mean it.

There’s a pause, filled only by the sound of your breathing and his. He shifts, lying down fully now, and you do the same, your phone resting beside you on the pillow so it feels like he’s right there with you.

“What if I was there?” Pedri asks you.

You close your eyes, letting the question sink in. “What if you were?”

“I’d hold you,” he says, in a whisper.

You smile faintly, eyes still closed. “And?”

He hums, the sound low. “Then I’d kiss you. Slowly. Just here.” He taps his thumb on the screen, where your cheek would be, and your breath catches.

“Would you?” you ask, your voice shaky.

“Everywhere,” he says softly, and there’s something in the way he says it that makes you press your face into the pillow, hiding a smile you know he can’t see.

When you peek back at the screen, his cheeks are pink, his eyes slightly averted like he’s trying to play it cool. But you know him too well. The blush climbs up your own neck and spreads across your face, your body temperature rising in that way only he can make happen.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you mumble, voice muffled against the pillow.

“Like what?” he says, though the tilt of his lips suggests he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Like you’re trying to see me naked!” you blurt out, your voice muffled by the pillow as heat rushes to your cheeks.

His laugh is soft, low. “Maybe I am,” he says.

You peek up at the screen, and he’s looking right at you. It sends a ripple through you, the kind that starts somewhere untraceable and spreads outward, leaving you warm all over. “Pedri…” you whisper, somewhere between a scold and a plea, though even you don’t know what you’re asking for.

“What?” he murmurs, “You’re the one who said it.”

“And now you’re just… staring,” you say, the words a little breathless as you shift under his stare.

“Can you blame me?” he asks, his tone tells you he’s getting more agitated. “You’re beautiful.”

The way he says it makes your chest tighten. You’ve heard it before, but it never feels rehearsed with him. It always lands differently, like he means it more every time.

You tuck your face into your arm, smiling despite yourself. “Stop. You’re making me blush.”

“I like it when you blush,” he says, the words soft, intimate. You look back at the screen, and there’s pink dusting his own cheeks.

“Look who’s talking,” you tease, though your voice comes out quieter now, your heartbeat a steady drum in your ears.

His lips part slightly, like he wants to say something but thinks better of it. Instead, he leans closer to the screen, the angle of his phone shifting just enough to catch the way his fingers brush over the collar of his hoodie, almost absentmindedly.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask.

He looks at you like you’ve caught him, but there’s no hiding it now. “You,” he says, so simply that it steals the breath right out of you.

There’s a pause, the kind that’s heavy but not uncomfortable. You shift under your blanket, the softness of it brushing your skin like a reminder that you’re here, in your bed, while he’s far away in his.

“Tell me,” you murmur, barely realizing you’ve said it aloud.

His voice lowers, and though the words are simple, the way he says them feels like a caress. He describes how he misses you, not just in passing but in detail – the way your hands feel in his, the way you laugh at his jokes even when they’re bad, the way you curl into his side when you’re tired. Each word feels like a touch.

You don’t even realize you’re holding your breath until he pauses. “Your turn,” he says, a smile tugging at his lips, though there’s a vulnerability in his eyes now.

So you tell him. Slowly, quietly, you let the words spill out, describing all the ways you miss him, need him, wish he were there. The conversation becomes a rhythm, like a tide pulling you closer to him with every wave.

The screen glows softly, illuminating his face in the low light of his room. You’re caught in the warmth of his eyes, the way he watches you like you’re the only thing in his world. His cheeks are a deep pink now, a color that spreads all the way to the tips of his ears.

Then, he closes his eyes. His lashes rest softly against his skin, and his jaw shifts like he’s trying to find the words. “Can I…?” He pauses, his voice catching before he finishes, “Can I touch myself? Please?”

Your breath catches, and all you can do is watch him – his chest rising and falling, his hands fidgeting in his lap. Finally, you nod, your voice steady but soft. “Of course, papi.”

The way his body reacts is instant – his shoulders relax, his lips part slightly, and he exhales like you’ve given him permission to breathe. Your own skin prickles with warmth, a slow wave that travels through you as you shift under your blanket, suddenly hyper-aware of everything.

He doesn’t say anything at first, but the way his arms move tells you enough. The sound of his breathing, slightly heavier now, fills the space between your words.

“Tell me how you feel,” you murmur, as your pulse races.

He opens his eyes then, looking at you like he’s trying to pull you closer through the screen. “I feel…” he begins, his voice rough around the edges but full of something achingly soft. “Like I need you. Like I can’t wait another week.”

His words sink into you, settling somewhere deep. “I’m here,” you remind him, your own voice quiet but certain.

He looks at you with intensity. “Then show me,” he says, his lips parted slightly, tongue brushing over them like he’s waiting –  hungry, almost – for you to join him.

Your fingers hover at the hem of your shirt, heart racing. Slowly, you pull it over your head, the fabric sliding away to reveal bare skin. 

On his side of the screen, Pedri tugs at the neckline of his hoodie, pulling it off in one smooth motion. You both linger there for a moment, taking each other in.

He shifts, his eyes heavy-lidded as he studies you. “Does it feel good?” he asks, his voice low and gravelly. “Your fingers? Is it as good as me?”

You feel your cheeks burn, but you manage a soft, breathless response. “It’s good, papi... but you’re better.”

The corners of his mouth lift slightly, but the intensity in his gaze doesn’t waver. The connection between you is visceral, a pull that defies the distance. You can hear the rhythmic sounds through the phone – his breaths, your own movements – all blending together.

You lose yourself in the rhythm, in the quiet moans and whispered encouragements. It’s like a duet, your bodies and voices singing together despite the space between.

“Let’s cum together, okay, bebé?” Pedri murmurs, his voice shaking slightly, his head tipping back against the pillow as his eyes flutter closed.

You nod, even though he can’t see it, your voice catching as you whisper, “Okay.”

The screen glows softly, casting delicate shadows on his face and yours. His breathing grows heavier, mixing with yours, and though words fall away, the rhythm you share speaks louder than anything else.

And when the moment arrives, his name falls from your lips like a prayer, echoed by yours on his.

“I love you,” he murmurs, his voice barely more than a breath.

“I love you too,” you say, sinking into your pillow.

[sinnabarmoth]

Taking Care

Pairing: Rafayel x Fem|Reader

Prompt: Mini fic of Reader being a soft!dom with the lads. (Not necessarily sexual, just sweet 'let me take care of you' vibes)

Word count: 1k

Links to the other lads: (Sylus) (Xavier) (Zayne)

You hadn’t heard from Rafayel in a couple days which was…concerning. For someone that got upset when you forgot to text him at least once a day his radio silence was baffling. You texted, you called, but nothing. You even tried asking Thomas but he just shrugged and said that sometimes when Rafayel was working on a new piece he went full hermit mode. No one but the food delivery driver was going to see him.

You decided that just wouldn’t do. You knew how Rafayel was and you would not put it past him to forget to eat or sleep because he was too in the zone while working. So you went to the store to buy some ingredients for a home cooked dinner and went to his place. You let yourself in using the spare key he had given you and wandered in. No signs of life in the living room or kitchen. You put the groceries away and went to the studio.

Sure enough, there he was. He was sat in the middle of the floor hunched over a canvas. There was some old half eaten food containers shoved off to the side and various sketches scattered around the floor.

“Raf,” you said, “Still alive over there?”

He sat up straight and you could hear his bones crack as he straightened. You could see him wince as he stretched and turned to look at you. “Oh hi,” he said, “What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t answering your phone, I came to check on you.” you got closer and noticed that his entire person was covered in smudges of paint both fresh and dried. His hair was greasy and lank, and there were huge bags under his eyes. There was also an undeniable funk coming off of him that made your nose wrinkle. “Good thing I did too. What on earth are you doing?”

“Inspiration called and I had to answer.” he gestured to the painting. “She’s nearly done. I’ve been adding the finishing touches.”

“Okay. Glad to know you’ve been working hard but this is too much. You smell terrible and when was the last time you slept?”

“I don’t need sleep.”

“Yes, you very much do.” you held out your hand, “You can finish your painting tomorrow. You’re mine tonight.”

“Oh really?”

“Not in that way. Come on.” you hauled him to his feet and pulled him into the bathroom.

“Cutie, this really isn’t necessary--”

“Raf, sweetie,” you cupped his face, “You don’t look well. I knew there was a chance you weren’t taking care of yourself but I didn’t realize it was this bad. Now come along, we’re gonna get you cleaned up, I’m making us dinner, and then you are going to bed. Got it?”

“I know better than to say no to you.” he smiled. “What do you want me to do first?”

“You can start by brushing your teeth and having a shave, you’re stubbly.” you turned him to the sink. “I’m gonna draw you a bath.”

After he had finished you ordered him to strip and get in the tub. There was a cheeky offer to join him but you shook your head and told him he wasn’t getting anything like that until after he had a full night’s sleep. You did however sit at the edge of the tub and reclined his head back so you could wash his hair and massage his scalp. A deep sigh of satisfaction left him as you gently lathered the grease out of his hair. You left him to dry himself off and went to the bedroom to grab a change of clothes and threw his dirty clothes in the wash.

He looked so much better. “There’s my clean soft boyfriend again.” Without having to worry about his bad breath you pulled him down and gave him a kiss, little droplets of water from his still wet hair dripped onto your hands. “Feeling any better?”

“Much.”

“Good. Now come along. I’m gonna get dinner started.”

“Want any help?”

“No. You’ll just slow me down. You can pick out a movie for us to watch though.” you pulled him into the living room and sat him down on the couch. “Stay.”

“Yes ma’am.” he gave a little salute and turned on the TV. You went into the kitchen and started cooking. It wasn’t anything extravagant, just some simple porridge that was filling and hearty.

As you were cooking you kept glancing over at Rafayel just to make sure he was still doing okay. It broke your heart seeing how little he was taking care of himself. Was this what he was like before? How many times had he done something like this? Did Thomas pull him out of his spirals or did he end up just crashing and took care of himself after he got some actual sleep? You didn’t want to know. He had you now and you weren’t going to let him keep up these kinds of bad habits. Inspiration be damned! His health mattered more to you.

Once the food was ready you handed a large serving over to him, threw a blanket over your laps, and settled down to watch the movie he had picked. “Thanks for doing all this. It wasn’t necessary though. I was fine.”

“You were most decidedly not fine, Raf.” you ran a hand through his hair. “You looked like death warmed over and smelled just as bad. It’s not just you anymore, you have to take better care of yourself, doesn’t matter about inspiration. I want you healthy. And if you can’t be trusted to take care of yourself then I’ll do it for you.”

“I’m glad to have such an attentive caretaker.” he leaned his head on your shoulder. “I might just fall asleep right here.”

“Not until after you eat.” you picked up a spoonful of porridge and brought it to his mouth. “Eat.”

“You’re also a very no nonsense kind of caretaker.” Rafayel sighed but happily opened his mouth to accept the porridge.

“I don’t mess around when it comes to caring for what I love.” you kissed the top of his head. “Now keep eating, we’ll go to bed in a bit.”

After dinner was eaten and the movie finished Rafayel was really close to nodding off. He had started slipping about three quarters of the way through the film. When you asked him if he wanted to go to bed he shook his head and said he wanted to finish the movie first. You figured he was just too comfortable curled up next to you to want to move. But when the credits started rolling you dragged him off to the bedroom so he could have a sleep in a proper bed.

You snuggled in next to him, holding him close. “Good night, Raf. Sweet dreams.”

“So long as you are here, I know they will be.” he sighed, his eyes slipping closed. “I love you.”

You smiled and kissed his sleeping face. “Love you too.”

[harrywavycurly]

Southern Comfort Part 31: Get Out of My Kitchen

Masterlist: Here

CW: None

Tag List: @wedontknowherorhimorthem @blckburd @daphnesutton @fangirl509east @styleswithaseaview @stylesfever @youngpastafanmug @hannah9921

Summary: Harry tries his hand at baking a batch of cookies and you end up using them for a holiday cookie swap✨

Harry looks at the clock on the stove and knows you’re going to be back any minute, having only gone down the street to give one of his neighbors a loaf of your banana bread and a bottle of wine as a little present to welcome them to the street since they just moved in a few weeks ago. He knows the moment you see the stand mixer on the counter and an apron tied around his waist that he’s about to attempt something along the lines of baking and he knows you’ll want to help him, it’s in your nature to want to help everyone but you especially enjoy helping him and even more so when it comes to helping him do anything in the kitchen. But Harry has a sense of determination to do this without your help, he hasn’t been very successful in trying to prove to you he actually can bake but all he is attempting today is a simple holiday cookie, one he’s watched his mom make countless times so he’s very hopeful that they will turn out semi decent.

“Oh sugar you should’ve come with me.” Harry grins as your voice floats into the kitchen from the front door, he can practically hear the smile in your voice. “They were just the cutest couple I’ve ever seen like really I could’ve just eaten them up they were so precious.” You explain as you walk into the kitchen, Harry looks over his shoulder as he places a mixing bowl on the counter and sees you looking over his mail that you must’ve grabbed on your way back inside.

“Honey this says past due-oh my goodness what is goin on in here?” Your voice has that tone to it that Harry’s heard a hundred times, it’s the one that you use when you’re asking a question you already know the answer to and it makes his cheeks get hot as if he’s just been caught doing something bad when you look up from the piece of mail in your hand and see the stand mixer on the counter making you take a step forward with a quirked brow.

You place the mail on the table as you walk by, your eyes zero in on the small gathering of ingredients next to a mixing bowl and a few measuring cups on the counter. Once you’re standing just a few feet away from him he feels your eyes travel down his body stopping at his waist where his apron is tied. He watches as your eyes take in the fabric of the apron, it’s the one you sewed him that has a watermelon slice as its main pocket in the front and a few little watermelons floating around throughout while it’s all trimmed with a pink and green polka dotted fabric. Since Watermelon Sugar was the first song of his you ever heard you thought it would be a cute apron theme and when he opened it on his birthday he about cried, no one had ever made him anything like that before and now he wears it every time he’s doing something in the kitchen.

“Harry Styles are you bakin’ somethin?” You ask with a playful smile on your face when Harry takes to long to answer and he just lets out a chuckle as he runs a hand through his hair before he turns and gives you his full attention.

“Yes or well-I’m going to try to make some cookies.” He answers nervously making you just nod as you take a few steps closer to him so you’re right in front of him. He looks down at you as his hands instinctively reach out to land comfortably on your hips while you place one of yours on his chest.

“I love cookies.” You inform him as you look up at him with a smile that makes him want to melt as you reach up on your tiptoes wanting to give him a quick kiss, Harry immediately leans down to meet you half way placing a sweet kiss to your lips that leaves him smiling when you pull away. “What kind are you making honey?” You ask as you try to look around Harry in an attempt to see what all he has gathered so far out of the pantry and fridge, but Harry just shakes his head as his hold on your hips tightens and he begins to slowly walk you backwards out of the kitchen.

“Baby.” He says in a playful huff as you try to poke your head under his arm so you can sneak a look at the recipe card he left out near the stand mixer. “Let me do this by myself please.” You let out a sigh as Harry stops trying to keep you from the side of the kitchen he’s currently occupying with his baking stuff. You cross your arms over your chest as Harry’s thumbs rub little circles over the material of your leggings on your hips.

“Okay my little sugar plum you go in there and whip up some cookies and I’ll just be right over here.” Harry has to hold back a laugh as you point to the couch over your shoulder, showing him exactly where you’ll be.

“Thank you sweetheart.” You smile as he leans down and places a kiss to your forehead before releasing his hold on your hips so he can turn around and head back towards his baking stuff.

“I love you.” Your voice is soft and sweet and for a moment Harry doesn’t realize how close it sounds until all of a sudden he sees your hand on the counter next to the container of flour near the stand mixer. “You’re going to do great honey.” You add as your eyes do a quick scan of all the things Harry has out but before you can see the recipe Harry’s hands are on your waist and gently turning you around so you can leave the kitchen.

“I love you too baby and thank you for the confidence boost but please get out of my kitchen.” He says with as much sternness as he can come up with and when it comes to you, that’s honestly not a lot because everyone and that includes him knows you’re the stern one in this relationship while he’s more of the softy.

“Oh oh I know that reference!” You clap your hands and Harry laughs as he watches you do a little spin so you’re facing him. “That’s from that little movie thing y’all did right? That concert film thing? Oh lord what’s the name of-”

“This is us?”

“Yes! That’s what that’s from isn’t it? Did I get it right? Oh god you’re lookin’ at me with them big ole lovey dovey eyes that are usually the ones you use when I get one of these things wrong.” Harry watches as your excitement slowly deflates and a small pout forms on your face as he stares at you with nothing but pure adoration because he’s never in his life thought someone could be so cute while trying to figure out where a quote of his came from and getting it very wrong.

“I’m sorry love it’s not from the movie it’s from-”

“Don’t tell me it’ll come to me.” You stop him by holding up a finger and heading off towards the living room making him chuckle and shake his head. “I’m gonna be a certified Directioner one of these days damn it. Can’t be dating Harry Styles and not know all the weird little fan facts.” He hears you mumble as he goes back to his baking and he can’t help but think of when he came over to your house one night and walked in on you watching This is Us and you had a notepad in your hand and were writing things down that made you laugh or that you needed further explanation on later on that night.

Now Harry doesn’t usually feel very confident when he puts things into the oven to start their actual baking process, having normally over beat or over salted something somewhere along the way. But as he takes a little look inside he feels as if the cookies on the trays kind of look like the ones in the photo on the recipe card his mom sent him a few days ago when he called to ask for some advice on which cookie he should go with as a fairly easy attempt at baking. He doesn’t want to get overly confident because as he’s learned in the world of baking, looks mean nothing because these can be pretty on the outside but taste like absolute garbage so he won’t know for sure if he’s done something right until he decides to taste one or until he finally allows you back into the kitchen to taste one for him.

“Sugar have you seen-” Your words get lost somewhere in your throat as you stand just outside the kitchen careful not to actually enter it so Harry doesn’t have to shoo you off again. You feel your heart begin to beat faster when your eyes land on him standing there with a confused expression on his face as he holds a cookie in one hand that looks as if he’s already taken a bite out of it while he other hand is resting on his hip.

“Harry? Honey are you okay? Are you having a reaction or somethin?” Your voice is a on the verge of being frantic and when he turns his head to look at you Harry can see your hands are fidgeting with the end of your sweater as an attempt to keep them busy so you don’t just rush over and begin fussing over him.

“I think-” he pauses as his eyes leave yours and go back to the cookie in his hand. “I think I’ve done it?” His voice is just barely above a whisper as if he’s afraid to say the words aloud because what if he’s accidentally dozed off while the cookies were in the oven and this is all a little mid baking nap and saying the words too loudly will wake him up and he will be standing in the middle of a kitchen fire or something just as dramatic, he simply can’t risk it.

“Can I please come into the kitchen now?” Your accent is thicker as you practically beg for his permission to enter the kitchen and it nearly makes Harry drop the cookie in his hand as he quickly just nods. In a matter of seconds you’re standing in front of him and he feels your hand on his wrist pulling the cookie out of his hand so you can bring it to your lips to take a bite.

“Wait baby I-” it’s too late and before he can properly warn you that maybe he was mistaken and that maybe he’s just used to his own horrible baking, you’ve already taken a bite and are chewing it.

He feels his heart drop when your eyes go wide and he mentally prepares himself for you to reach over to the counter and grab a napkin so you can gracefully spit the bite out like you did with the brownies he made you all those months ago. Harry reaches for the cookie in your hand assuming you don’t want to finish it given your shocked facial expression but you send him a glare and smack his hand away causing him to quirk a brow at you.

“Now Harry Styles I thought you were a gentleman? Over here tryin’a steal my cookie.” You say with a playful tone as you finish off the cookie in your hand before you turn and head for the counter near the oven where he has the rest of the cookies on a cooling off. “Sugar these are perfect for the cookie swap oh people are gonna go buck wild for these suckers.” Harry can’t help but let his mouth drop open a bit as he turns and follows your movements around the kitchen with his eyes, not fully believing what he’s hearing about you wanting to use his cookies for the cookie swap party you had been invited to because well his baking usually isn’t good enough for him to eat let alone a group of your coworkers.

“I’m sorry sweetheart I don’t think I understand?” You let out a laugh and even when it’s directed at him he still finds it to be one of his favorite sounds in the world, he runs a hand through his hair as you turn around and lean against the counter with a warm smile on your face as you look at him.

“Harry these are really good.” You tell him and he knows you’re being honest because you never have been one to sugar coat things just to save his feelings. “You did a great job sugar plum.” Harry smiles as he takes a few steps towards you.

“Yeah? You think I finally learned me a thing or two?” He asks as he leans over you, placing his hands on the counter on either side of where your hips are leaning against it. You look up at him and just shrug as you place your hands on his chest.

“I don’t know about all that but there is this rumor goin’ round that you used to be a baker? Maybe it has something to do with that.” You tease making Harry roll his eyes as your hands travel up his chest to rest on the tops of his shoulders.

“You really think they taste good?”

“Yes I think they taste good.”

“How good?”

“Don’t push it.” You send him a warning look making him chuckle as he leans down and playfully bumps the tip of his nose into yours before placing a kiss to your lips.

Harry rolls over in the middle of the night and lets out a soft groan when he feels your side of the bed is not only empty but it’s cold. He slowly opens his eyes as he flops back over to his back and when he sits up a bit on his elbows and sees the faintest hint of light coming in from under the bedroom door he knows exactly where it is you’re at. He reaches over and turns on his bedside lamp before swinging his legs over the side of the bed, feeling around for his slippers so he doesn’t have to walk around on the hardwood floor barefoot at two in the morning.

“Always in the kitchen.” He mumbles to himself as he opens the bedroom door and can already hear what he’s come to know is the sound of the sugar and flour containers being placed on the counter top. When he rounds the corner and enters the living room he nearly crashes face first into the Christmas tree having forgotten it was there in his half awake half asleep state making his arrival into the space a bit more dramatic than he intended.

“Harry Edward Styles you bout gave me a damn heart attack what the hell are you doin up right now?” You snap at him as your hand flies to your chest and your cheeks get pink from being startled by the sudden clanging and jingling sounds of ornaments being ruffled up by Harry bumping into them.

“Sorry baby but-” Harry’s eyes narrow as he finally makes his way to the kitchen and see what exactly it is you’re doing, you have the sugar container out as well as the salt container which for some reason is empty but in your hands you have what appears to be a ziplock baggy full of something white and grainy looking and Harry watches in confusion as you begin to pour it into the salt container.

“I know you’re not about to walk into my kitchen in nothin but your britches.” You don’t look up from what you’re doing as you speak, concentrating on not spilling any of the salt, making sure it all gets into the container before you place the lid back on it. Harry instantly regrets not grabbing his robe from the chair by the door on his way out of the bedroom because if there’s one thing he knows about you it’s that you’re very serious about your rules, even if it is two in the morning.

“What are you doing?” He asks with a raised brow as he runs a hand through his hair, you walk over to the recycling and toss the ziplock bag in the bin before going over and grabbing another container from the pantry but this time it’s the one for powdered sugar.

“Honey just go back to bed.” Your voice is its usual soft and sweet tone that normally would have him just nodding and telling you he loves you and turning around to go back to bed but something is bugging him about what you’re doing and he wants to get to the bottom of it.

“That wasn’t empty when I used it this afternoon.” You look at him over your shoulder and see his eyes are glued on the powdered sugar container that you just opened to reveal nothing inside of it. You give him a warm and reassuring smile before turning your attention to the flour container and opening it to begin shoveling the contents from that container into the powdered sugar container.

Harry watches you with wide eyes as you scoop out the last bits from the flour container and place the lid back onto the powdered sugar container. You then pick up the flour container and go to the sink and give it a few pats to make sure all the bits that could be stuck in the nooks and crannies of the bottom fall out before you wipe it out with a damp cloth. Once you have that sitting out to dry a bit you causally walk back into the pantry and retrieve another ziplock baggy full on what Harry can only assume is actually flour. You place the baggy on the counter and take a dry cloth to the inside of the flour container, once satisfied with the dryness you pour the contents of the ziplock into the container and put the lid on.

“Oh god.” Harry places a hand on his forehead as it all begins to click in his mind, you switched all the ingredients he usually mixes up, such as the sugar with the salt and the flour with the powdered sugar and if he had to guess also the types of oil as well so that no matter what he wouldn’t possibly be able to mess the cookies up. “How-how did you even know I was going to be baking today?” You let out a sigh as you dust off your hands on your sleep shorts before turning around to face him.

“Your mom called me a few days ago and told me you wanted to bake some holiday cookies and sugar we share a calendar and you had it written on there with a cute little star and everything.” You explain as you take a step towards him. “I’m sorry honey I just wanted you to feel proud of yourself and I know how much you want to bake somethin’ really good and I just-I’m sorry.” You look down at your fuzzy sock covered feet all of a sudden feeling extremely guilty for what you’ve done but Harry just puts his thumb under your chin, tilting it upward making you look up at him.

“You did all this just so I could tell people I made a decent cookie?” He asks trying to fight off the smile that wants to form on his face because of course this is something you would do for him, he should’ve known something was up at how easy it was to keep you out of the kitchen once he got you settled on the couch with a hallmark movie going on the television.

“Well yeah? I’m kinda in love with you or whatever so I’d do just about anythin to keep you from bein all dramatic and crying over another burnt batch of-”

“Sorry what was that? You said you’re in what with me?” You roll your eyes as his hand gently cups the side of your neck keeping you from being able to look away from him.

“I’m in love with you.” Harry grins as he leans down and places a kiss to the tip of your nose making you smile. “Or whatever.” You add jokingly as you place a hand on his bare chest making him flinch slightly at how cool it feels against his warm skin. “You’re not mad?” You ask as Harry’s other hand comes to rest on your hip so he can pull you just a little closer.

“No baby I’m not mad.” He answers and he hears you let out a little sigh of relief as one of your hands begins messing with the bluebonnet pendant that hangs next to his cross on the chain around his neck.

“Thank goodness because honestly honey if anyone should be mad it should be me because when are you gonna stop getting the salt and the sugar mixed up because this is just gettin embarrassin.” Harry can’t do anything but laugh at your teasing words as the two of you stand in the middle of the kitchen at two in the morning, he wants to defend himself but at the end of the day he knows that he will probably never be able to bake anything decent without your help even if at the time he doesn’t even know you’re helping him.

[tgmsunmontue]

Season to Taste - 29/? WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.

PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FORTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN TWENTY TWENTYONE TWENTYTWO TWENTYTHREE TWENTYFOUR TWENTYFIVE TWENTYSIX TWENTYSEVEN TWENTYEIGHT

CHAPTER TWENTYNINE

                It feels like he’s done nothing but cook for three days, his arms are sore from kneading dough and turning the handle on the pasta machine; he’s also drunk too much and he hasn’t had enough sleep. Filming isn’t this much hard work. Silvia had tutted and told him America was making him soft, and he supposes it has been, because nothing puts him through his paces like a big family wedding where he and Leandro are cooking the food. It’s one of his and Vi’s cousins, not one of the one’s he’s closest to, but it doesn’t matter.

                They’re all family.

                He’s coming to learn he’ll do anything for family.

…            …            …

                “I bought you something.”

                “Yeah?”

                “I don’t know what it is, but the guy in the store assured me it was food.”

                He hands Bradley the jar and he recognizes it instantly.

                “Lotus roots. Nice. Thanks sweetheart.”

                “Hmm. I’m going to try and find something you don’t recognize.”

                Bradley snorts, smirks and raises an eyebrow, thinks about all the crazy ingredients he’s either worked with or that have featured as part of ridiculous cooking challenges in some of the shows he’s been a part of.

                “Well, good luck…”

…            …            …

                Bradley stands behind him, rests his chin on Jake’s shoulder as he slices the pepper for their omelette.

                “Just…” he wraps an arm around Jake’s waist, smiles as he feels Jake press back into his body. Then he rests his other hand over Jake’s. “Let the knife do most of the work. It’s sharp and gravity is on your side. Just pull back and drop, it’ll go much smoother…”

                “Jesus fuck Leo…”

                “What?” Leo asks, breath warm and damp against the side of Jake’s neck like he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing.

                “We’re meant to be making breakfast.”

                “Mmm. Would rather eat you…”

                “God you’re corny.”

                “Rhymes with corny…”

                He leaves the peppers half cut on the bench.

…            …            …

                Ninety minutes later, showered and definitely starving now but definitely sated sexually Jake walks through the apartment. Leo has shooed him out of the kitchen, adamant he’ll work faster alone. Poured Jake a cup of coffee and told him to go and curl up on the sofa. Except it's his first time here in Leo's space and there are so many photos. He recognizes Vi of course, and then Leandro and Silvia because Leo has shown him pictures on his phone, and he’s going to be having his first video call with them this coming week, which he isn’t nervous about at all. He’s studying a picture of what he would bet large chunks of money is Leo and his parents, and he feels Leo step up behind him, circling his arm around Jake’s waist.

                “Are these your parents?” Jake asks, and he knows they are, recognizes Nick Bradshaw from the research he’d done when he’d realized Leo was more linked to the Navy than Jake had previously thought.

                “Yeah.”

                “Anyone ever tell you that you look a lot like your dad?”

                Leo laughs, nuzzles a kiss into the side of Jake’s neck.

                “Yeah, all the time. Breakfast will be done in two minutes. You want to keep being nosy?”

                “Yep. You’ve already had your chance.”

                Leo grins at that, kisses him on the cheek and then leaves for the kitchen again. He keeps looking at the photos, and he knows what he's looking for, Leo's elusive godfather. He doesn't think that he's going to get that lucky, that Leo will just have a photo of him out. But... Yeah. He's done some more digging since Admiral Kerner confirmed that Uncle Tom and Iceman were one and the same. He knows now that Nick Bradshaw flew with Pete Mitchell and he was flying when Leo’s dad died. That Maverick and Iceman were wingmen.

                So the fact that Leo has never mentioned Maverick is what makes a little silent alarm bell ring in his head. That maybe this man is Leo's godfather and in regards to all aspects Leo is a well-adjusted and mature adult. Except when it comes to his godfather. Of course, even with Captain Mitchell cleared, it doesn’t mean Leo doesn’t still blame him, so that could be the reason. There could be another person out there who Jake can have a little silent vendetta against. Jake came hold a grudge like no one else, especially against people who have hurt people he loves. And he does love Leo.

                Yeah.

                Maverick Mitchell better hope he never crosses paths with him.

…            …            …

                “Honey! I’m home! God you both better be fucking dressed! Tell me you’re dressed!”

                Bradley lets out a long breath, but Jake is grinning, then throwing back his head with laughter, standing to reach out and envelope Vi a hug and he feels a surge of happiness that they get on so well; realizes that he hopes Jake feels the same about him getting on with his family.

                “We’re dressed!”

                “You mean you don’t want a show?”

                “No. Definitely not interested in that kind of show… however does smell good. Is there any left?”

                “No, I didn’t make enough for three…”

                “Where has the love gone?” Vi exclaims dramatically, and she’s making the face which tells him she’s in a shit stirring mood. Fucking great. “L’amore si misura in piatti cucinati,” Vi sates, grin sly and Bradley flushes, because he’s there. He’s so there in terms of loving Jake, and the fact that he just seems to make everything feel so much easier and fucking Vi knows that, but…

                “What did she say?” Jake asks, and Bradley wonders how much he already understood, because Jake definitely understands more Italian than he lets on.

                “Love is measured in cooked dishes…” Vi says, failing to look innocent and Bradley huffs in mild annoyance.

                “Hmm. Is it also measured by eating them?”

                Bradley’s eyes shoot up and Jake is looking at him, one eyebrow quirked up and his heart does a little skip in double-time.

                “Yeah,” Bradley breathes, “we can make that a house rule…”

…            …            …

                “Did you want to do anything tonight?” Bradley asks, hours later, curled up on the sofa and watching a documentary about the Antarctic. Vi has come and gone and it’s just the two of them until they’re wheels down in Texas tomorrow morning.

                “We fly at eight tomorrow, would like to make the most of every minute we have alone…”

                “I know. Me too… just. It’s New York. People generally like to catch a show or go out somewhere nice for dinner. Just… am happy to go out if you want.”

                “No babe, I want to stay right here with you. Will leave the fine dining experience to Phoenix…”

                Bradley grins up at the ceiling and can’t help but press a kiss to the back of Jake’s head.

                “Yeah? What does she have on her list?”

                “Some famous place… she had to make a reservation months ago apparently. Not my type of thing…”

                “Oh. I’m well aware of that fact. Trust me. Uh. Do you know what restaurant she was going to?”

                “Uh. Yeah. Tartaruga Blu. Italian right? That’s why I remembered the name. She said it’s been on TV or something… Have you heard of it?”

                Bradley lets out a nervous laugh, glad that they’re alone for this, reminds himself that he doesn’t think Jake will care.

                “Ha. Yeah. Yeah I’ve heard of it. It’s… Um. It’s actually where I work. Usually.”

                “Your steady job when you’re not flying around cooking for the rich and famous huh?”

                Bradley blinks, because that’s not wrong exactly; but neither does it capture celebrity chef either; he’s just going to have to be more obvious. Remembers what Maria said about Jake being smart as a tack but also sometime wilfully and blindly oblivious to some things that he just didn’t register as important.

                “I… wouldn’t put it quite that way. But yeah, I guess so. I’ve been on TV. A bit.”

                “Have you now?” Jake asks, and Bradley can hear the amusement in his voice, feels him shift carefully on the sofa so he’s facing him, Bradley leaves his arms around him, kisses the gentle smirk off Jake’s face, so glad to have him here.

                “Yeah.”

                “You going to forget all about me when you’re all rich and famous?”

                “No. That’s never going to happen,” Bradley says, because it hasn’t yet and he’s pretty sure it’s never going to and he’s prepared to work at that too.

…            …            …

                “Oh, I need to give you your key back…” Jake mutters, fishing the key out of his pocket. It has a little Lego minifigure attached, dressed in chef whites and he’s kind of attached to it for some weird reason.

                “No. That’s your key. I got it cut for you.”

                “Uh. What?”

                “You can’t move in with me, but you can come stay whenever you want. In fact, I kind of expect it if you’re in town.”

                They’re words, still not I love you, but it’s what they mean. Like the sly way Vi has talked about love being measured through cooking, like she knows how Leo feels about him. He’s going to tell Leo that he loves him, use the actual words despite how terrifying it feels to say it to someone who isn’t his family or Javy. He’s confident his feelings are returned, the way his sisters and Vi tease them both. However he’s not beyond avoiding the subject, the airport terminal is definitely not where he first wants to say the words.

                “Well, five-star rating. Food wasn’t bad, bed was super comfortable. Company was the best part though.”

                The almost bashful smile Leo gives him is gorgeous and Jake hip checks him, pushing him toward their gate. He wonders if he can find a Lego minifigure wearing a naval aviator uniform, give Leo a key to his apartment. Because it’s as practical as Jake having a key to his place. However it’s not the practicality, it’s the physical acknowledgement of something more and fuck, they’ve only been doing this for eight months, but… he wants eight years or no, eighty years.

                Yeah.

                That’s a good place to start.

…            …            …

                Somehow they’ve been bumped to business class and Jake is not complaining about the extra legroom, because he hates flying commercial, but this is actually nice. And he has Leo to talk to, which makes a nice change. He settles in beside him and reaches for his hand.

                “What? You a nervous flier?” Leo asks, and he’s got a shit-eating grin on his face, clearly thinks he’s being funny and Jake rolls his eyes.

                “It’s not my favorite, but I’m not nervous.”

                “Mmm. I’ve always loved flying. Every part of it.”

                “And maybe I just want to hold your hand. Ever consider that?”

                Leo rolls his eyes, squeezes his hand hard and Jake retaliates by starting a thumb war, which he frustratingly loses because Leo somehow has double-jointed thumbs which are gross and freaky. He lets Leo know what he thinks and Leo smirks and leans in close ‘you’d still let me put my gross double jointed thumbs all over you…’ and Jake hates that he’s right.

                “So, uh, I’ve been thinking… You want to meet my mom?”

                “I… do you want me to meet her?”

                “Yeah. It’s just, uh, you know…” Jake trails off, because he’s talked about her dementia more than once, Leo isn’t oblivious to it or how Jake feels about it.

                “I’d love to meet her.”

…            …            …

                They arrive and it’s a whirlwind of people and family lunch. It’s nice not to be cooking, instead both Maria and Olivia keep asking him about the different dishes and Jake is smirking and shaking his head.

                “Hazard of the job…”

                Bradley will happily take that, and he’s glad he was able to bring a range of cookies, because Jake leaves his sisters with the clean-up, which he feels awful about but is simply waved away. Then they’re off to see Jake’s mom and dad. He’s not worried, Chuck, Jake’s father, already likes him; but he would like to make a good impression on Jenna, for both his and Jake’s sake. They sit in the car, Jake resting his wrists over the edge of the steering wheel, hands hanging lax as he sucks in deep breaths and swallows roughly, clearly psyching himself up for what is to come.

                He keeps quiet, knows that this is what Jake does when he first gets home and also just before he leaves. That a late lunch happened first is an anomaly probably for his benefit. He reaches out tentatively, places his hand on Jake’s thigh and just lets it rest there, hopes it’s enough to just let him know he’s not alone. Then Jake is sucking in a deep breath, blowing it out between his teeth, throwing his shoulders back and reaching for the door handle, but not before resting his hand over Bradley’s for a brief second and giving him a small smile. He follows him and then Chuck is shaking his hand, giving him a quick hug, and offering a drink all in the same moment.

                “Who is it Chuck?”

                “How about you come see for yourself?” Chuck says, and then there’s a woman there, so clearly Jake’s mom that he finds himself smiling automatically.

                “Oh! What are you doing here?”

                “Uh…”

                “This is Bradley Bradshaw,” Chuck provides, looking between her and Bradley.

                “I know who it is Chuck,” Jenna says with a laugh and there’s Jake’s laugh.

                “Uh… It’s nice to meet you Mrs Seresin.”

                “Jenna, please! And who is this?” Jenna asks, looking toward Jake with easy curiosity and Bradley’s heart twists. Jesus. How does Jake even do this?

                “Uh, this is my boyfriend. Jake,” he says, reaching for his hand and gripping it firmly, pulling him toward him because he needs the support, the closeness, no idea how Jake might be feeling.

                “Mmm. Well, you always did have good taste. Seems it applies out of the kitchen too…”

                Bradley can feel his cheeks flushing as he glances at Jake, who simply looks shattered.

                “Jenna, how about you come and help me make Bradley and Jake some coffee. They’ll be here for a little bit…”

…            …            …

                As he watches his parents walk toward the kitchen he feels Leo’s arms go around him, hugging him and he doesn’t understand.

                “Why… how… why does my mom know who you are?”

                Leo looks so sad and he has to stop himself from snapping that he doesn’t want pity, because he doesn’t think that’s what Leo is experiencing right now.

                “Um. You know how I said I was on TV a bit, well I also used to have a cooking channel on YouTube. Your dad said when I met him that they watch it together… almost every day.”

                “Oh my god… this is… she doesn’t recognize me but she knows who you are. This is so fucked up. You just introduced me to my own mother.” He takes in a shuddering breath, swallows roughly against the tears and then just decides to let them fall.

                “Jake, I’m sorry, I…”

                “Don’t. It’s not your fault. I just… it’s unfair. And I say that, and I feel like an asshole because your parents aren’t even alive, so I should be grateful right?”

                “You can be upset about your mom Jake…”

                “Fuck.” He scrubs at his face. “In all the scenarios I ran through in my head, this was not one that even crossed my mind.”

                “I didn’t think she’d know who I was…”

                “I want to see…”

                “What?”

                “Your cooking show.”

                “Uh… sure. Actually, you know your mom might want to show you her favorite bits, if you asked her…”

                Jake hadn’t thought of that, that this is something his mom can share with him, because he’s never been interested in what she liked watching, but if it’s got Leo then he’s definitely more invested. So when his mom and dad come back carrying a tray of coffee and cake he asks, and she just lights up. He admits he hasn’t seen any of Leo’s, sorry, Bradley’s, shows, and he’d love to see what the fuss is about. Then his dad is exchanging looks he can’t quite parse, but then he’s looking at a still image of Leo on YouTube, frozen with his mouth open, no moustache and he lets out a huff of surprised laughter.

                “Oh wow, you look so young.”

                “Yeah, that was a while ago.”

                It’s only a twenty-minute show, and it’s just Leo talking about making pasta, why he enjoys making it from scratch but also the friendly way he talks to the camera makes him understand why his mom likes it. She talks to Leo almost constantly through it, and Jake finds himself switching between watching the video and then watching his mom and boyfriend talk about different pasta making techniques and yeah, it sucks but it’s still better than he thought it could ever be.

                “Who was filming you?”

                “Oh. Vi. There’s a blooper reel on her private channel. It’s pretty humiliating.”

                Jake can’t wait to see it, chats with his dad as Leo then works in the kitchen with his mom, making pasta from scratch. They decline staying for dinner, but Leo says he’s happy to come back, maybe make some cookies if she doesn’t mind Jake’s nieces and nephews coming as well and of course his mom just lights up. She doesn’t seem to question why Leo doesn’t have work, or even what Jake does, but he’s not going to question his good luck. They’ve made their goodbyes and he doesn’t feel the usual sinking dread about the next time he’ll have to see her, knows it’ll be sooner rather than later but Leo will be there and it’ll somehow be easier as well. It’s dark, and cooler, the air crisp and he stares up at the sky, stops before he gets to the car and turns toward Leo.

                “So… people know your name. Do lots of people know your name?”

                “Yeah. If they’re that into cooking food.”

                “Well, I’m into you…” Leo’s teeth flash white in the dark with a smile, and Jake reaches for him, wraps his arms around his waist and tugs him in close. “In fact, I’m so into you that I might go so far as to say I’m in love with you.”

                “Might?”

                “That’s the word you’re going to pick out to focus on?”

                “Mmm. I love you too Jake.”

                “Good. Very good.”

…            …            …

                He has an idea, but he has no idea whether it would be well received or not, but the fact that Jake’s mom recognizes him makes him think it might. He also knows the best person to ask is Maria so he works at getting a moment alone with her.

                “I… you heard that your mom recognized me?”

                “Yeah,” Maria says, and she’s grimacing, because he knows that it has got to suck, is thinking about how he’d feel if Leandro and Silvia didn’t recognize him. Fuck. Even Ice and Mav, and not for the first time he feels a twist of regret about not talking with Mav for so long, but he knows he’s doing okay because Ice had told him when he asked.

                “So, feel free to shut me up any time, I was just thinking, we could make a short film, like… Bradley Bradshaw at home. And introduce Jake as my boyfriend, and then all his sisters… and your mom could watch it every day. I don’t know if it would help, but…” he trails off, not sure if this would even work, but if he can film the baking session with all of Jake’s nieces and nephews then it gives them a family video, but also, if Jenna maybe watched it everyday she might recognize everyone, even if she didn’t realize they were her family.

                “I… that’s really thoughtful of you. I don’t know what my brother did in a past life, but I’m glad he found you.”

                “I love him,” Bradley says easily, because Jake didn’t need to do anything in a past life, he does plenty in this one which makes Bradley consider himself lucky.

                “Yeah. I’m aware. Right. I’ll see what we can do.”

…            …            …

                Time slips past them, around them, passing over them like the cool water in a stream passes over a stone in its’ path. Month-long deployments come and go. Bradley spends time on the farm both with and without Jake. He films another four different cooking shows, publishes another two recipe books and also opens the second Tartaruga in San Antonio, this one called Violet, which Vi hates but doesn’t actively sabotage. The location is close enough to the Seresin Farm and he decides to see if he can buy the house he’d stayed in when he’d first met Jake again; Jake just laughs when he tells him. Jake spends time in New York with Bradley, although it’s usually only one or two nights before they’re on a plane to Texas. They may only see each other three or four times a year, but they cram in as much as they can with the time that they do have.

                He’s not really paying attention to the noises coming from the restaurant. They aren’t open yet and there are still two hours. He’s a little grumpy because Jake hasn’t sent him any messages in over a day, which is fine, but usually he gets a little heads up that he’s going into blackout comms. Some of Jake’s COs have been better than others in terms of being willing to pass baked goods on. Honestly, he’s worried about Jake, although he’ll leave it another day before calling Ice. Of course he’ll actually have to share with Ice that he’s gone and got himself a boyfriend, because Slider has let him know that it’s no fun if he can’t gloat he knew first when it’s been nearly three years.

                Except in that three years they’ve only had about five months with each other, so even though they both very much all in and he feels like they cope well with all the time they spend apart he will never not worry or miss him while he’s gone. It’s just part of his natural state of being he’s come to accept. Vi walks into the kitchen, wearing one of her pant suits she wears when she’s got people to intimidate and he raises an eyebrow.

                “Meeting with… suppliers? Or the bank?”

                “Pfft. Like I need to scare the bank. They want to loan us money and don’t like us paying it back faster. No. I needed you to come out the front. I have something to show you.”

                “Okay, just let me…” he waves his hands, because he’s in the middle of prep, signals for one of the newer and younger chefs to take over and then exchanges a look with Adrienne to ensure an eye is kept on quality. Then he’s following Vi out the front, and she’s walking ahead of him, leading the way so he notices the film crew in the same moment he sees Jake, standing in his full service khakis looking absolutely amazing and everything else fades to unimportance. He’s across the room and kissing him, hands on either side of his face, mouth hot and insistent and he ignores the polite coughs trying to get his attention.

                “Hi…”

                “Hi. That’s a welcome home.”

                “You’re early. Like. Weeks early.”

                “Yep. Can’t talk about it, but, uh… I have almost ten weeks off.”

                “Wow.”

                “Mmm. Pretty sure you’re going to get sick of me.”

                “Never going to happen,” Bradley promises.

…            …            …

                He doesn’t often get creative control, but Jake hasn’t ever signed a waiver saying he’s happy to appear in any of the shows and right in this moment he’s infinitely glad for it. Bradley has kept Jake’s name and job out of all interviews, he’s not about to reveal all of it along with his face. That’s just never going to happen.

                “You can’t use any of that footage,” Bradley states.

                “Care to explain why not?” Cassandra asks, because they’re used to Bradley’s little fits of pique when he’s having a bad day, but he shakes his head, tries to look a little apologetic, because he’s not trying to be difficult.

                “You can’t identify him. It’s a security situation. Only way around it is if you blur his face, nameplate, squadron badge and his ribbons. Any identifying markers. Including his shoulder and collar pins.”

                “Surely his squadron badge…”

                “No. That narrows it down to maybe a group of twenty-eight people. Likely smaller, depending. He can’t be identifiable. It’s bad enough that people will be able to pick that he’s a naval aviator.”

                “How the fuck are they going to figure that out if everything else is blurred out?”

                “Oh. They’ll know if they’re looking closely enough,” Bradley mutters, because he’s pretty sure his days of Slider being unable to gloat are finally numbered.

                At least someone will be happy.

THIRTY

(Every 10th chapter is an IceMav chapter).

(And did I start writing a Phoenix/Vi side story? Yes. Yes I did.)

[wayfayrr]

If requests for Tears are still open I'd like to request him comforting reader.

Not the reader is crying and needs comfort type of thing. More like reader is kinda just shutting down a bit and stops working properly that day kind of thing, if you get what I mean. And as he is so caring maybe he'd make a flowercrown for reader? Or prepare their favourite meal? Just being supportive you know? Or whatever you imagine him to do!

Please and thank you. If you don't want to do it just delete it.

of course anon, I hope you're doing alright and if you ever want to talk to someone my dm's are open. <3

But this got a bit longer than I originally planned reaching just about 1K words but I tried to show how caring he can be

With how long we’ve been walking now, it shouldn’t be long till we settle down and make a camp for the evening although it’s not like I’ve got the best sense of time right now. We could have been moving for only half an hour and I wouldn’t be surprised without a clock. I've always been a bit time blind. 

“[na]- wh… -op” 

Is someone shaking my shoulder? We’re still moving aren’t we, did they spot something to show m-

“Where are you trying to go- [name] you just kept walking even when all of the others stopped and started settling down, it’s like you weren’t all there.”

“We stopped already?”

He looks so concerned, his eyes are already watering and although with anyone else it’d seem manipulative but with him? He doesn’t even know that he’s crying most of the time. 

“Yeah, Wild’s even got a fire going but you just kept moving, what’s going on, you haven’t been hit by something have you? Nothing that’s made you feel weird?”

I didn’t do as good a job of hiding it as I thought; if tears has been able to see that something’s wrong then… 

“Please, I don’t know what’s hurt you so much but I and the others are all here for you. You don’t have to bury everything and deal with whatever it is alone.”

“I-”

“Come back to camp with me though? We don’t have to talk but I, well I don’t really want to leave you on your own right now.”

Looking down, I’m greeted with a held out hand, he’s leaving it up to me to take it or not. Granted it’s not like there’s a situation I wouldn’t. It’s incredible how quickly he laces our fingers together when I took it though, the grin on his face as he does it making me feel a little fuzzy too. 

“I’ve got plenty of ingredients, if there’s anything you want I’ll make you it, or we can sit by the fire, or we could go sit somewhere separate to talk for a bit? Whatever you want, just say the word.”

“Could, can we just go be alone for a bit… I -sigh-  I don’t think I wanna be around the others right now.”

Not even a word had to be said as he nodded; gently running his thumb over the back of my palm. Leading us away with just a tilt of his head to the rest cluing them into what he’s doing. Next thing I know he's tugging me to sit next to a new campfire? When did that - am I really zoning out this badly consistently? He isn't treating me like there's something wrong with me though, he's just… here. Giving me the options for what I want to do, what I'm comfortable to share; it's nice. 

Sitting down next to him feels natural, leaning onto him even more so as he rests his arm around me reaching for my hand to trace lazy circles on it. 

“What can I make for you then [name], I heard you talking about pizza not really being a thing here but… well I’ve had it a couple of times so if you want I can make you some, or I’ve got some stored away so you could have that while we talk?”

“There a reason why you keep so much in your pad?”

“I well I… It's well… I keep it for times like this, if anyone needs a pick-me up quickly and since you've talked about pizza so much I thought that it'd be the best one to keep for you! I still don't know your favourite food so I just thought, until I learn your favourites, this would work.”

The nervousness in his voice is kind of endearing, the fact that he’s put so much thought into comforting someone he’s known for barely a week even more. He is a link though, so the fact that he’s a good person shouldn’t be all that surprising to me, not when I’ve both seen how the others act and played through his game myself. It’s different being able to live through it though, that’s for certain. It’s so comfortable here though; I can almost feel my eyelids drooping.

“I’ll get you something, I don’t think you’ve eaten today with how little you were here so you really should have something before you fall asleep sundelion.”

“Mhm, guess you have a point.”

“I've been worried about you you know? I know I probably don't have much right to be seeing as we haven't known each other all that long but I want you to know I really do care about you and that between me and the others you don't have to deal with whatever is bothering you alone.”

“It’s just thoughts, ‘m not exactly sure how to explain them.”

“Well, I won’t push, if you don’t want to share then you don’t have to. I’m not going to force you to do anything either way, just remember that I’m here if you ever figure out how to explain it.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, whenever you want.”

“Think I’m just gonna lie here for a bit before I decide.”

That seemed to reward me with a gentle nudge and a tiny - near unnoticeable - frown, not that I really know what caused… Oh, right, he said he thought it best that I eat something didn’t he? I shouldn’t be all that surprised he’s handing me a plate of food. 

“You don’t have to have it after all, I’m not even entirely sure it’s something you like. If it isn’t though I can make you something else!”

“No, no this is lovely. I can’t remember how long it’s been since I’ve had something like this, I wouldn’t want to be a burden to you.”

“You aren’t, I can promise you that.”

“But you’re doing all of this when I bet you’re tired too.”

“And you’re forgetting that I was the one who decided to do this, and even if you ever were a ‘burden’ you would be one I would forever choose to carry.”

[beatricebat]

Can I request a Jean and Reiner sandwich please 🥹👉👈

Ah! Our very first customer! Thank you for your patience while we got your order ready. Reiner wasn’t feeling very chatty, so Jean had to pick up the slack - not that this is a problem for him at all. I hope this sandwich is to your taste, and thank you for your custom!

Jean yawned and rubbed his eyes, hoping he could scrub out the fatigue at the same time. He’d been opening the bakery for two weeks now, but he was still struggling with the new schedule. He was meant to be here at six to open for seven, but this was the first time he’d actually made it exactly on time.

He’d never thought of himself as either a people pleaser or the self-sacrificing type, but working with the public demanded both. You spent eight hours doing stuff for other people for nothing but a basic wage in return. Still, it could be a lot worse. Customer service was customer service, but at least the ratio of soul crushing assholes to polite patrons was better here than in Greggs.

Reiner worked here instead of Greggs too, and that was a very big reason for Jean to get out of bed in the morning. That was, in fact, the only reason Jean had offered to take on opening. Getting home at 2:20 in the afternoon was nice too, but he was always too tired to take advantage of it. Nope, an hour alone with the big blond baker boy was definitely the biggest appeal.

Or, more like forty minutes with him, on a good day. But today would be the full hour at last, which meant it would be a great day.

Reiner was already there, of course. The bakers had to start earlier. The Ackermans were almost certainly as busy with the pastries at the sister bakery across town. One of them would be over in the van before seven to swap their stuff for Reiner’s bread.

Jean muttered a greeting as he slouched through the kitchen, and Reiner grunted back in kind. He wasn’t tired, just busy. He was sweating and covered in flour, but somehow he looked fresher than Jean. How did he do it? No harm in asking.

“Hey man. What time do you get up? Four? Half four?” asked Jean. He should start up the coffee pot and wake himself up with a cup, but he wanted to hang out with Reiner a little first.

“Three,” came the reply. Reiner measured out his words as carefully as his ingredients. It was effective. That single digit was enough to make Jean pull several disgusted faces.

“How the fuck do you get up at 3AM?!?!” he exclaimed. That was a time which should only exist in theory.

“I have an alarm clock.”

He said it with such sincerity that Jean briefly wondered if the big boy was just slow, until Reiner beamed proudly at his own joke. Dumbass.

“When do you go to bed?”

“Seven.”

“Seven? SEVEN? What the hell kind of life do you lead?” yelled Jean plaintively. Reiner just shrugged and laughed. “C’mon, man. I’m trying to ask about how you spend your time when you aren’t in this kitchen. You’re allowed to say more that one word at a time,” cajoled Jean, waving his arms around expansively.

“So ask,” said Reiner, hauling up a heavy stack of empty trays for the rolls they would bake through the day. “And move.”

Reiner shaped trays upon trays of rolls with skill and speed while Jean took a verbal crowbar to him to pry out his daily routine.

They both worked hard, but only one of them actually got anything done. Reiner didn’t drink alcohol or eat sugar. He did read non-fiction and he did watch documentaries. He didn’t use a smartphone. Jean really wanted to find out what Reiner’s workout routine was as he admired the flex of Reiner’s arms under his shirt, but Reiner just grunted, “Weights. You?” and it cunningly diverted Jean into a monologue about hockey.

Jean realised he wasn’t getting his paid work done either, so he skulked out of the kitchen and into the store front. The closing crew had done a spotless job, thankfully, so he busied himself counting out the float and filling the cabinets. Armin had written out some new labels in his lovely calligraphy, which saved Jean the job.

Getting paid for an hour of work that didn’t involve customers was truly another reason to come in so early, admitted Jean to himself. It was nice and quiet out here right now. The morning crowd were usually pretty decent too - mostly regulars, and mostly commuters after a coffee, a bacon roll and a big smile. Jean wasn’t a people pleaser, but he could do that in his sleep. Perhaps he should try that one morning.

He ventured back into the kitchen to get the first bacon out of the fridge and into the oven. Once more, the closing crew had been a dream, and there were several cling filmed trays of neatly spaced bacon ready to go. He unwrapped the first two and shoved them into a spare oven.

Being back in the kitchen should have given him another chance to ogle Reiner, but the baker was hunched over with his back to Jean. He dipped down and up, racking the trays of rolls into their cages. Some would be baked today, while others were destined for the freezer for later in the week.

Jean leered at his broad back for a moment, and then ran through his list of jobs to do. He still hadn’t had a coffee, but he wanted to think about whether or not he had missed anything else first.

Satisfied that he’d done everything he needed to do for now, Jean let his mind drift to the rest of the day. Open at 7, or maybe 6:55 if a regular he liked tried the door before then. The breakfast rush was more like a steady stream than a stampede, and would settle down by nine. Those hours were good. No one wanted to start an argument before nine am.

After that, there’d be a brief lull. Stay at home parents would start coming in at about half nine, on their way to whatever baby classes started at ten. They always seemed harassed, but they rarely caused a scene. Jean liked to wedge the door open then to help them out with their prams and pushchairs.

He’d close it again at ten when the pensioners turned up. Some of them would complain about anything. They could be a real hit and miss crowd. He had some regulars he’d die for, and some he’d happily kill, but he still smiled for all of them. Maybe he really was a people pleaser? Nah, not a people pleaser, just a people person. Customer service was about figuring out what would make a customer smile, and wasn’t that just a form of flirting? And Jean liked flirting. He’d flirt with anyone.

Maybe he was so drawn to Reiner because he hadn’t figured out how to flirt with him yet? That was something to think about. Reiner was good looking, but surely the real attraction came from intrigue. It would pass as soon as Jean figured out how to talk to him.

Reiner put the last of the trays in the racks and stood up to stretch. There were just muscles, and muscles, and muscles. There was a tang of Reiner’s sweat in the air too. It drifted into Jean on the convection currents from the ovens.

Oh. Right. No, not just intrigue.

Jean swallowed. His mouth was dry and his tongue felt thick, and he needed to drink something, and it needed to be coffee, and he needed to brew the coffee to do that. Fuuuck, he hadn’t started brewing the coffee. Moron!

“I’m gonna fire up the filter. You want one?” he said, shoving himself off the counter and trying to be casual.

“Sure.” Sheesh. Jean was crashing out because this man was hotter than his ovens, but he couldn’t even get two words out of him.

“No milk, no sugar, right?”

“Nah. I’m sweet and white enough.”

One of Jean’s thoughts rolled its eyes at how this boy only used his words to make the dumbest jokes in the world, while his other thoughts shushed it to blush and giggle at Reiner’s goofy smile. Jean returned his grin for too long, before he remembered he was supposed to be doing something.

Out front, Jean took a deep breath to find his centre and then reached for the pot. He frowned. It was half full. Shit, didn’t anyone clean it yesterday? Assholes! - No, wait. The pot was clean, as was the machine. There were no grounds or spills in sight. Jean checked the filter. The coffee smelled fresh, and the paper looked new.

“Did you do it for me already?”He called over his shoulder, only to go still as he felt warm breath on his ear.

“Mmhmm. For you,” said Reiner, suddenly right there. He still had that dopey smile on his face as he rested his chin on Jean’s shoulder. Jean jumped just a little, then laughed.

“Oh…hey.”

And that was all he needed to say.

[camillomea]

Prt 4

Finally, as the vehicles headed towards the cave, Tim was sitting between Pru and Owens in the vehicle. Z was sitting between Jason and Cass. Bruce and Damian were sitting in front. Steph was coming on the motorcycle. Tim's head was slightly bowed. He had been above ground for a long time before the sun set. It made him feel quite exhausted, no matter how isolated he was. It made the wounds from before he transformed hurt. It was his curse, a curse that would never go away. Pru nudged him slightly. Tim turned his head to show that he was looking at him. Pru was holding out a thermos. "Here, drink up boss," she said. Tim said, "I drank it when I woke up, I'm fine." Z said, "Boss, you know the rules. You're probably very low on energy right now, and on top of that, you're probably sore, drink this." Tim groaned. He took the thermos from Pru and opened the hole in the mask so he could drink something. He drank from the thermos. Pru kept her eyes on him to make sure he had enough. Tim drank half of the thermos. Then he lowered it. He handed Pru the thermos back. Pru took it and made sure she had enough to drink before putting the thermos back in the bag she had taken it out of. Cass said "10 minutes" shortly. Tim said "Oh thanks". Jason said "Are you okay". Tim nodded "freak side effects of my freak vampire species" he mumbled. Pru had started swearing in Arabic whenever the subject of vampires came up. Tim sighed. Ever since they left that place the 3 of them had started swearing whenever the subject of vampires came up. *At least Z and Owens don't do this in front of anyone else* he thought then *At least they don't if they haven't gotten used to the people around them yet* Jason was definitely going to go for target practice after this meeting was over. Or he was going to find a live target directly. There was a squeak from the front of the car. When he looked over he noticed Bruce gripping the steering wheel too hard. *I'm not the only one who thinks the same* he thought. Finally the car pulled into the cave. The boy leaned back and hugged the thing in his lap (yeah he couldn't imagine him as a man after learning his age) and they got out of the car. Tim looked around and thought *I'm home*. His body relaxed a little. He stretched. Z put his hand on his shoulder and asked "Are you okay boss?" Tim nodded "Yeah I'm better. I just want to finish this job and get some rest." Z looked up from his phone and said "I told the old boss we arrived." Tim nodded "Pru" he said. Pru asked "Yeah boss". Tim held Mag with one arm and extended his hand. Pru handed him the bag. Tim took it. Bruce said "Everyone's almost there" Tim said "No problem. Well can you just wait a little while while I feed Mag his food" Bruce asked "Oh no problem. Do you need anything" Tim said "No problem I already prepared enough for the trip and when we arrived before we left" He left Mag on the empty table. Mag was sulking because she was taken off the lap. She looked like a cat with wings. Tim took a bowl out of the bag and poured cream with other ingredients in it from a special container. Mag started eating the contents of the container. Tim closed the rest of the cream and put it back in the bag. He said to the three, “Did you eat?” Pru said, rolling her eyes. “Of course we did. We don’t forget to eat like you do.” Tim said flatly. “I can give you at least 35 examples of people you forget.” Z’s eyes twitched. But he didn’t comment. Owens tensed. “I think you know what boss,” he said, staring at his mask. Tim muttered, “I know. I’m waiting for everyone.” He could sense Bruce watching him like a hawk. But that was all he did. After a while, Bruce asked, “What is that?” Tim said, “Oh, it’s a gargoyle. The vampires caught it when it was a newborn before me, planning on eating it for dinner when it was old enough.”

[everybodyshusband]

teaching a skill

mushy may ; day twenty two !! (approx. 860 words)

read under the cut or on ao3 :)

Aeon flops down dramatically onto the couch, only narrowly avoiding clocking his head on Mountain’s blanket-covered hip bone. “I’m so bored.”

Mountain hums. “Want to sit with me and read, bug? You can come under the blanket with me,” he sing-songs.

“Nooo,” Aeon moans. “I’m so hungry I can’t focus on anything which makes me bored but I can’t do anything because I’m hungry.” He glances up at Mountain and whacks his shoulder when he sees the earth ghoul smirking. “Don’t laugh at me, Mounty, I’m dying.”

Mountain sighs and puts his book down. “You wanna help me cook something then? I was going to make brownies later but I can make them now to give you something to snack on.”

“Please!” Aeon practically yells. “I’m gonna starve to death…”

“Come on. Up you get, buggy.” Mountain stands up and holds his hands out, pulling Aeon to his feet and leading him over to the kitchen. Aeon stands and watches as Mountain opens up drawers and cupboards, pulling out bowls, measuring cups, assorted ingredients and his old beat-up recipe book. “Alright, all we have to do is follow this recipe and then in about an hour, we’ll have some delicious brownies for you to eat. Are you ready?”

Aeon nods but… “I’ve never baked anything before, I– I don’t really know how to do it.”

“Hey, that’s alright,” Mountain assures him. “I’ll help you. I’ll set up the scales for you while you have a flick through the book and find the brownie recipe. I’ll be under the sweets category.”

Aeon shoots him a thumbs up and picks up the book. It’s one that Mountain has compiled himself from magazine cutouts and handwritten recipes, some passed down from the ghouls that came before him and some new creations from the earth ghoul’s own mind. By the time he’s located the brownie recipe, Mountain has set up the scales and is already beginning to measure out the flour; it’s no surprise to Aeon that Mountain remembers the measurements by heart, brownies are a once a week occurrence at least in their pack.

“Ah, perfect, thanks, Ae. Do you want to take over from here? I’ll be here helping the whole time.”

Aeon nods. “Yeah, sure. Thank you, Mounty.”

He gets a pat on the back and a kiss on the top of his head in response. “You’re welcome, bug. Now c’mon, Dew messaged and asked if I could make him something to eat. Lazy bastard doesn’t want to lift a finger and bake them himself even after I told him he could do it himself if he wanted them that badly.” Aeon turns to Mountain, eyebrow raised. “Fine,” the earth ghoul relents. “I said I’d be happy to and that I love him very much and did he want sprinkles and melted chocolate on his brownies?”

Aeon snorts. “That’s more like it,” he laughs. “I was getting worried for a second there, Mount.”

From there, the time passes quickly. Mountain jumps in to help or give advice whenever the quintessence ghoul asks for it, but for the most part, Aeon is doing well without too much guidance. The only real trouble comes when it’s time to decorate them; Aeon has no idea how to do that without messing up all his hard work by making them look atrocious.

“That’s half the fun,” Mountain argues. “Plus it’s endearing if they look a bit shit, and personally I think they taste better if they don’t look all fancy,” he confesses. “We’re only dripping on melted chocolate, you’ll be fine, I promise. Here, watch me do the first tray and you can copy that for the second, yeah?”

“Yeah, sounds good. Thanks, Mount.” Aeon watches intently as Mountain dips his spoon in the melted chocolate and picks up a decent amount of tempered chocolate on the end of it. The earth ghoul spins it around to stop the chocolate from dripping and Aeon is surprised that when Mountain reaches the tray of brownies he just… goes for it. The chocolate drips every which way and covers the brownies in a messy drizzle that Aeon can’t deny looks absolutely delicious. When it’s his turn, he does the same, opting for a slightly more uniform pattern than Mountain’s but the earth ghoul assures him the slab still looks more than edible. The two of them take it in turns with the container of sprinkles, covering their squares in the colourful blobs.

They cut the trays into brownie-sized pieces and compile both batches into one big container, making sure to set some aside for the two of them—and Dew. At a nod from Mountain, Aeon grabs one out of the container and takes a big bite, eyes widening in delight at the flavour. “I made that,” he says with his mouth still full. “I made that and it tastes so good!”

Mountain grins taking a bite of his own brownie “Yeah you did! It’s really good, well done!”

Aeon smiles widely, stuffing the rest of the brownie into his mouth gleefully. “We gotta go find Dew,” he urges. “I wanna go brag that I can cook and he can’t!”

[kay-elle-cee]

@jilytoberfest 31 Prompts: Day 23 || 468 Words || Read on Ao3 —

18 May 1980

“A herb garden along this side of the house so it’s close to the kitchen and definitely some potions ingredients over there,” Lily’s saying, lips pursed in concentration as she points around their yard. Small plants in little containers are grouped half-hazardly, littering the area. She looks up at James over her shoulder, eyes bright though her brow is furrowed in thought. “It’d be nice to have some shrubs or something, as well, but that seemed a bit of a bigger decision and I wanted your input.”

James’ hand snakes around her waist, and he smiles down warmly at her. “Something with flowers would be nice, I think. Maybe a rose bush, or something.” His wife’s face lights up.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

“Then it’s settled. I can get those sometime this week,” he tells her, brandishing a gardening trowel. “Now put me to work.”

Lily’s head tilts back as she lets out a light, tinkling laugh, her hand falling to rest on her slightly swollen belly. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, we need to fertilize first.” Taking out her wand, she levitates some fertilizer out of the large bag that leans against the small shed and directs it to the tilled garden beds before making her way over to where the kitchen herbs will be placed.

James offers her hand as she slowly lowers herself to her knees, mindful of her condition, and she motions for him to join her as she begins grabbing a few nearby plants. Picking up her own gardening trowel, she creates a little space in the dirt, then picks up one of the small plants and removes it from its plastic container before loosening its roots—just as her father had shown her all those years ago in their family garden. She talks through the steps, showing her process clearly to James as she nestles it into the dirt and packs it in, sprinkling it with a little water conjured from the tip of her wand.

With a satisfied sigh, she leans back and surveys her work. “I could really spend all day out here doing this,” she muses.

“Then let’s take our time,” James tells her. “No need to rush. We can both work on this bed and then switch to the potion ingredients one. We don’t need to divide and conquer if you’d rather savor it.”

“I’d like that,” she nods earnestly. “If it’s not going to mess up your plans later—”

He waves off her concern. “If I need to be a little bit late, then I’m late. It’s not Order business or anything, just drinks with Dearborn. This is more important.”

Lily rolls her eyes at his gushing but blushes all the same, and the two start to work on their little garden, side-by-side.