#have no IDEA how that chocolate milk go pushed so far back.... and how long we had it...

[peachesofteal]

I’ll be honest, I’m looking forward to the darker scenarios 👀

Darling unable to get away, having to stay because she knows she can’t survive on her own, let alone with a little baby that’s entirely dependent on her.

Simon, possessive and controlling to keep Darling with them, their family together. He’s already gone too far with messing with the BC, so I’m betting he’s willing to go further at this point.

Johnny, helpless to it all, but trying to keep the peace, keep Darling healthy so she can deliver a healthy baby safely. What else can he do without losing both Simon and his pregnant Darling?

I’m specifically imagining after Darling confronts them, trying to run out the front door, but Simon physically stops her, will not let her leave until she listens to him, agrees this is for the best, that she belongs to and with them.

Sorry for the long ask, just have so many thoughts on this AU and am looking forward to seeing where you take it 😵‍💫

There are so many juicy little bits to the baby trap au here, but let's talk about Johnny for a sec:

I like to imagine Johnny not being helpless, but definitely second to Simon in all of this. It was his idea, his dream, and he did agree. It was a decision they made together, but I think now he's really trying to tow the line in order to keep everyone together. It's a strain for sure, but he did this to himself, he's not innocent. He knows it. He likes it. The guys, both of them, love how you've always depended on them and this is no different in baby trap.

18+ MDNI / baby trap au / dark and twisty themes / reader is a prisoner so please read with caution

His fingers reach for yours involuntarily, the muscles in his face working against the wince that is pulling at his lips when you snatch your hand away like he's burned you. "Please, darling, will you at least-"

"No." You hiss, pushing the plate away from where you sit. Your arms cross in front of your chest, and you do that thing again, the thing you've been doing recently that's driving him mad, where you close your eyes and pretend he doesn't exist.

"I know ye must be hungry, love." He moves the plate back, palm cupping your knee softly. You don't jerk away, but it's more because you're still acting like he's not there, instead of shying away as you're prone to do.

He sighs.

"Well, I guess I can eat this then. Or we can dump it." He takes your fork and spears a piece of pancake, mopping it around in the syrup that you like so much, before lifting it to his lips. "Be such a shame, to waste it all, but Si won't be home for another hour yet, and I ate before ye woke up." He's not lying, it would be. He made you pancakes, bacon, and eggs. Sourdough toast, your favorite, and a peanut butter smoothie. There's also orange juice, and chocolate almond milk, another thing you've been craving non stop.

You crack an eyelid. Just a little, enough to survey the meal again. He knows, knows, that you're hungry. You hardly touched your dinner, and then suffered a breakdown, where you locked yourself in the bathroom and cried for hours until Simon had enough and picked the lock after you had started sobbing out loud about how you wanted to die.

It had taken hours to settle you, Simon with a hand steady on your nape, Johnny with his arms around you as you cried yourself to sleep in the guest bed.

He chews his bite, thoughtfully, albeit a little loudly, before clearing his throat. "It's a nice day today. Want to go for a walk? We could go to the park, or walk down to the cafe you like." Both of your eyes blink open now, narrowed, but still staring at breakfast, and he puts the fork on the rim of the plate with a clink, motioning to the pancakes. "They're a bit fluffy." He comments, and you scowl. He holds his snicker as you reach for it, pulling everything in front of you, stabbing into a large bite and lifting it into your mouth. "Good girl." He whispers, and you shift uncomfortably in your seat, teeth worrying at your bottom lip. "Take another bite." He urges in a soft voice, but you shake your head.

"My stomach hurts." you whisper to your knees, and he swallows the lump in his throat. It's been so hard on you, the pregnancy, the changes in everything, everything that's happened after you found that stupid piece of foil. You had always struggled with eating, your own emotions sabotaging you, twisting you up into knots, but now it was even worse. And you needed to eat, now more than ever. For yourself, and the baby. The doctor had assured them that your appetite fluctuations were okay for now, but they needed to keep a close eye on it.

"What about some of the eggs?" He nods to the glass to your left, the tall one with the smoothie in it. "Or some of that?" Your nose wrinkles.

"I don't want it."

"You love peanut butter smoothies, they're your favorite."

"I want mango." You huff. Mango? Since when? You rub your belly thoughtfully and look at him with big, sad eyes. "I'm really craving mango. Can I have a mango smoothie? With vanilla ice cream in it? Please?" There's a glimmer of something, in your eyes, something sad, and longing... but familiar, and he swallows against the worry that rises in his gut. It's going to be okay. You're going to be alright. They're taking care of you. They won't let anything happen to you.

He shoots Simon a quick text, telling him to pick up fresh mango and vanilla ice cream on his way home, and then he glances back at you.

"Si will bring the ingredients home, okay?" You nod, still palming your belly, fingers tapping across your skin. You groan a little when you get to your feet, body sore from the less than luxurious guest bed that you've been insistent on sleeping in, and walk away to sink into the couch. "What're ye doing?" You burrow yourself into the cushions pulling the blankets up over your chin and closing your eyes, back to pretending that he doesn't exist, except to give your answer.

"Waiting for my smoothie. You'll bring it to me?" You peek over the mound of pillows, eyes still wide and sad, but there's something else there, something he can't name, and he nods automatically.

"Of course, darling."

[fluentmoviequoter]

I had a VISION

Post vengeful, Syd and Mitch finally track Victor down. They go to where he's staying to confront him or reunite or however it may go.

Victor opens the door and before he can get a word out a cat from inside the motel jumps on his shoulder, demanding his attention.

Victor met the stray cat that has badly healed broken bones that cause him chronic pain, made his pain go away, and the cat decided that Vic is now his owner and basically forced him to adopt him by just refusing to leave him alone. And now they're besties of course even if Victor complains on how whiny and clingy the cat is. He secretly loves the company and cuddles.

By far the best thing I've read in a long time; you seem to be the chosen one. Victor needs a cat (and I chose Vex from your list of name ideas because Vex Vale has the same alliteration)!! Hope this little blurb with is okay!🤍

But also, LOOK AT THIS PICTURE! LOOK AT DOL!

“What have you got?” Sydney asks, pouring two glasses of chocolate milk.

“Nothing,” Mitch answers.

“Nothing?”

Mitch shrugs. “Not enough to go on, I mean.”

“That’s not nothing.”

Sydney rounds the table, standing behind Mitch to look over his shoulder. She scoffs, apologizing quietly when the noise wakes Dol.

“Mitch, that’s an address,” Sydney accuses. “How is that not enough to go on?”

“Victor doesn’t want to be found.”

“That’s not his decision, is it? Besides, he’s not here to stop us.”

Mitch knows she’s trying to push him, that she knows he’ll listen. He could - should - try to fight it, but he can’t. Sydney and Victor mean a lot to him, and Victor means a lot to Sydney, so he sighs as he grabs a set of keys from the table.

“You know this may not end well,” Mitch reminds Sydney as he leads the way to the car.

“Or it may.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Being on the run alone is much easier than hauling an escaped convict, a young girl, and an oversized dog with you. Although Victor finds that he does miss them. Finding an inconspicuous, cash-preferred motel, he gets a room under a fake name.

Walking down the corridor to his temporary home, Victor stops when he hears a strange noise. He looks around but doesn’t see anything out of the ordinary. It happens again, and now Victor can tell it’s a cat meowing. Based on the pitch, Victor determines that wherever it is hiding, it’s injured.

Focusing, Victor lowers the pain dial in his mind. The meowing stops, and a black cat walks out from behind a dilapidated ice machine.

“Hello, darling,” Victor murmurs, kneeling to extend a hand toward the cat.

As the cat moves toward him, Victor notices how it staggers when it walks. Victor runs his hand over its back and down its hind legs, frowning as he realizes its bones have been broken and left to heal on their own. The limp and chronic pain are results of badly healed bones, and Victor takes pity on the cat.

Continuing to numb its pain, Victor stands, and the cat moves quickly beside him, adhering himself to Victor’s leg as he enters the motel room. Victor has both adopted and been adopted, though he doesn't know it yet.

“You’re a vexing cat, aren’t you?” Victor mumbles as the cat jumps onto the bed.

The cat looks at Victor before turning onto its side and burrowing into Victor’s discarded trench coat. Victor smiles at the newfound ease of the cat’s movement, and as he gently moves it aside, he calls it vexing again.

“You’re clingy, you vex-“ Victor stops abruptly, a nearby door slamming and cutting him off. The cat nudges its head against Victor’s arm, and Victor shakes his head as he asks, “Answer to Vex, do you? At least you know, darling.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“This is a dump,” Sydney says, stretching as she exits the car.

“That’s why he would choose it,” Mitch points out. “I’ll see what I can find.”

“He’d ask to be at the back,” Sydney calls over her shoulder, walking down a corridor with Dol at her side.

Mitch sighs, following her. She stops suddenly and takes a few steps back, pounding on a door without warning.

“Sydney!” Mitch whispers harshly, reaching for her arm.

Someone looks up at the commotion, and Mitch smiles as he lies, “Her dad is teasing her, locking the door. We’ll keep it down.”

The man narrows his eyes but enters his room, uninterested in whatever is happening around him. Victor opens the door as Sydney raises her hand to knock again. He opens his mouth to speak, but a cat jumps on his shoulder, meowing as it swats at his ear.

Sighing, Victor steps back and lets Sydney in, watching as her eyes widen at the sight of the cat.

“Vex is a friend,” he says to Dol, who tilts his head as he watches the cat move over Victor’s shoulders and jump to the desk.

Victor watches Vex and bites his tongue to keep an equally loving and aggressive comment from coming out.

“Who’s your friend?” Sydney asks.

Victor cuts her off, ignoring her playful tone. “Why are you here?” he demands.

“You left,” Sydney answers. “And I followed.”

“Typically, when someone leaves without warning, it’s because they don’t want to be followed. I needed to do some things without putting you in danger.”

Sydney pats the bed beside her, and Vex sits beside her. “Then do them, without doing that.”

Victor rolls his eyes, catching Vex when he leaps from the bed.

“Take her away, Mitch,” Victor requests.

“I actually agree with her,” Mitch argues. “If Vex here can stay, why can’t we?”

Victor sighs, accepting his fate… yet again.

✯✯✯✯✯

Mitch and Sydney leave Victor with Vex and Dol, who make themselves comfortable at Victor’s side. When they return from getting dinner, Victor is reclined on one of the beds, with Vex asleep and purring on his chest, his face pressed under Victor’s chin. Dol is similarly relaxed, with his snout elevated on Victor’s ribcage.

“Oh my gosh!” Sydney squeals.

Victor shushes her quickly, pointing to Vex without disturbing Dol. Sydney and Mitch silence at his actions, looking at each other as they try not to laugh.

“You really love that cat,” Sydney muses.

“He knows when to stop,” Victor mutters. He glances down at Vex without moving to add, “No, you don’t, but it’s okay.”

[hellishgoat]

Happy new year DO NOT forget to clean out your fridges....🤢 this has been a psa from me

[httpdabi]

Jealousy

Word count: 6,5k

Genre: Smut, romance, no quirk lol

Warnings: 18+, a little bit of choking, a little bit of daddy kink, rough sex, dom!dabi , jealousy kinda, unprotected sex, alcohol

Credit to the owner of the pic!!

✨Friends to lovers fic✨

Throwing your phone across the room, deep breath coming out of your mouth. The fact that he was coming back today made the time pass so slow it was painful. You were glancing at your phone every now and then checking what time it is, knowing he should arrive around 17PM. Rolling down on your old bed, you took a good look of your room.

Pastel pink walls, white bed, small working table in the left corner of the room. Beside your bed were photos taped on the wall. All those photos woke a memory in you. Some of the photos were of you and your friends, but most of them were of you and Dabi.

Dabi.

Your childhood best friend. You will never forget the day you first met him. Shy little Touya not wanting to play with your dolls. I’M A MAN. He screamed back then, throwing the doll away, making you cry loudly. You will never forget how scared he got in the moment you started screaming around, trying to hush you down somehow. He did everything he could hoping his parents won’t hear.

Yours and Touya’s parents were literally best friends, visiting each other almost every day. Having to face him so often, you two almost had no choice then to become friends. At the beginning none of you were impressed by each others company. But how both of you grew up, you were becoming closer and closer. At some point, you two became inseparable.

When Touya started getting piercings, you were so jealous. You wanted to get that Certilage piercing just like him, but your parents were so strict even the thought of it made their hair get up. Of course Touya being Touya, he didn’t give a two shits about their decision. Picking you up one day after school and brining you to his friend that did his piercings too. That night both families were fighting. His parents lecturing him how he is such a bad influence to you, and your parents screaming on you how you’ll never get married with piercing like that. Saying it’s not ladylike.

,, If no one marries her, I will’’ Touya said, making your heart flutter, and everyone else in the room laughed loudly, finding it cute how he was protecting you.

Of course, growing up both of you went different directions in your life. Moving out of your parents place was best thing that happened to you. Having that freedom you never had before, you were appreciating even little things.

Dabi moved out in another city, saying he never wanted to live in his hometown anyway. Of course, there wasn’t a day that he didn’t contact you. But having him so far away made things much harder for you. The only positive thing about him moving to another city was the fact that your huge crush on him would melt down, at least you hoped so.

You were so in love with him. How could you not be ? Having him around so much, such a handsome and good guy, you simply had to develop feelings toward him.

Walking downstairs, you heard Enji laughing loudly at something your father said. You visiting your parents home again, while Todoroki’s were also there, all of you waiting for Dabi to return. It made your heart warm up again, missing moments when all of you were spending time together so often.

Making your way toward kitchen, you opened the fridge looking for something to eat. Not that you were hungry, you were simply bored and something had to kill that boredom.

Taking the milk pudding, you opened it and took one spoon. You tried to multitask somehow, with one hand you were eating the pudding, while with other hand just scrolling your instagram feed.

Suddenly, a head placed on your shoulder, trying to see what you were looking at. Your parents always did that. They had to know why you were always holding that damn phone in your hands.

,, Dad, this is private, I’m not a child anymore’’ you whined, pushing your fathers head away. You hated when he does that, privacy is privacy and it has to be respected.

,, I didn’t know you were into daddy kink’’ a familiar voice whispered, making you flinch in surprise. Turning around you immediately jumped on the person standing behind you. Dabi laughed, placing his hand around your waist hugging you strongly, before he pulled you up in the air.

,, You little piece of shit, I missed you so much’’ you said hugging him back, not paying any attention to your parents in the background.

The rest of the day was all about Touya. How he was, what did he do, does he have a girlfriend and so on. Of course he liked to be the center of the attention, talking about everything. Not that you were complaining, you were sinking in every word that came out of his mouth, admiring him as always.

At the end of the day, your parents made plans that this week all of you should meet and have a super cool bbq like in the old times. Which meant one big ass sleep over, with Todoroki’s. Those nights were always amazing, so much food, so much sweets and of course so much alcohol for grown ups. That was the reason why Rei and Enji slept over after all. All of them would simply get wasted.

Dabi decided he will sleep at your place, since he never saw your new apartment, all of them agreeing, knowing that there’s a lot he probably wanted to tell you.

First both of you went to his old home, placing his suitcase and taking just few stuff to bring over. He didn’t want to waste any time, since his parents were still at your place, and he really wanted to finally see your new apartment.

Placing his bag in his hallway, he immediately went inside your living room, looking around, commenting what doesn’t look good and how he would decorate it much better. He opened the fridge, feeling like home and took one ice cream out of the freezer. Making his way toward your couch.

,, So, where’s that piece of shit called Kai’’ he asked, biting the chocolate on the ice cream. You were confused a bit, since you broke up with Kai long time ago.

,, Didn’t I already tell you? It’s been six months since we broke up’’ you laughed out. How can it be possible that you left your dear Touya uninformed about your love life.

,, Oh, that breaks my heart.’’ He said sarcastically. ,, What happened?’’ he added licking the ice cream.

,, Well, he cheated on me’’ you lied, sitting down beside him. Well, technically he did cheat on you, but the reason behind it was because he found out about your feelings about Dabi. He found out that he was only being used to forget your one sided love. Not that you didn’t like Kai, you did find him attractive, but you couldn’t force yourself to do with him stuff every couple did. Which made him cheat on you, hoping he will make you step further. But at his surprise you did something every normal person would do, broke up with him.

You did feel disappointed that you two had to part your ways like that, but you also understood him and with that you couldn’t force yourself to hate him or be that much hurt.

,, He didn’t deserve you anyway. I have no idea what did you see in him. Dude looks like he fed a whole Village in Africa, no offense ‘’ he said, making you laugh.

,, Anyway, we are invited to Mina’s birthday this Saturday’’ you said placing both of your legs on the table.

,, Aren’t we having a bbq that day?’’ Dabi asked as he placed the stick of his ice cream on the table.

,, Yeah, but we can still go tho. They’ll be really happy to see you again, I told everyone that you are back’’ you said, as he placed his head on your lap. You smiled, knowing how much he loves when you play with his hair.

,, Sure, we can do both. I am glad I’ll see them all again’’ he said making your stomach twist out of jealousy. You knew how much Yua and Akari liked Dabi. Of course you were friends, but the fact that all these two had their eyes on him made your blood boil. Even Mina was into him, until she found a boyfriend recently. They didn’t know that you liked him, but you knew very well that they weren’t happy that you had him by your side all the time.

After telling you about the city and all his experience, you two decided to go to sleep since it was already 2AM. You went to the bathroom to change into your silk pajama, coming back only to find Dabi in your bed wearing only shorts.

,, I really wanna get some tattoos too’’ you said looking the tattoos over his chest and arms, wanting to touch every single one of them.

,, Do it’’ he simply said, placing his arms under his head. You just rolled your eyes on him, he knew very well that you weren’t that brave.

,,You can sleep here, I’ll crash on the couch’’ you said ready to stand up. He was a guest after all, and for him you would sleep on the floor if he asked you to.

,, Of course you’re not’’ he said grabbing your arm and pulling you in the bed beside him. Wrapping his one arm around you.

,, Don’t get all cold with me suddenly’’ he laughed while covering both of you with your covers. Of course, you two slept together in one bed before, it wasn’t something unusual. But knowing how you feel about him, you knew that with every move like this, your feelings will grow back even stronger then they were before.

,, Touya, we aren’t children anymore’’ you said, trying to wiggle out of his grip.

,, That’s exactly what I was thinking about. Might as well do stuff adults do’’ he said jokingly, making you push him even harder. Making sure you are smiling he just held you stronger repeating that he was joking.

Once you realized that he won’t really give up, you just gave in, preparing yourself for one sleepless night with him.

Dabi placed your leg over him, slowly caressing your tight while telling you about some nonsense like he did before until you would fall asleep. Once he thought that you fall asleep, you felt his long arms around you and his lips on your head.

Having him so close to you, he didn’t know what effect he had on you. For him it was just one normal night, while for you it was something you won’t be able to keep out of your mind next upcoming weeks.

The next days it was like before. Dabi was spending more time at your place as he did home. You two would spend time together, playing games, going grocery shopping together, visiting cafes and so on. You even saw Akari in one café, and of course she was all over Dabi. You couldn’t watch it, she was touching his arm so recklessly, and the fact that he wasn’t doing anything about it didn’t’ help either.

Excusing yourself, you said that you felt sick. Dabi wanted to follow you home, but Akari was insisting how he should stay, since they didn’t see each other for such a long time. Not wanting to make any scene, you just told him to stay, not to worry and left them.

On your way home, you felt terrible. It wasn’t anything big, but yet you overacted there and had to leave. But you simply couldn’t watch or hear anything more. You were the one that was supposed to touch him like that. You wanted to touch all those tattoos, and even tho you were his best friend you couldn’t find the courage to do it. Yet, stupid Akari did it without a problem.

Knowing that Dabi will probably just come back to your place, you made your way toward your parents house, not ready to face him somehow. In that moment you wished you didn’t gave him your spare keys. You didn’t want to wait for him and think about what they were doing.

Of course your parents were more then happy to welcome you home. Since you moved out you didn’t sleep at their place that often. But they knew something was wrong, not wanting to bother you, they just let you be.

Once again the night was sleepless for you. Dabi did contact you, asking if you are ok and if he should bring something to you, but once you saw that Akari posted him on her Instagram story, you couldn’t even force yourself to text him back.

You knew that It was so childish of you, he didn’t even know how you feel about him, yet that something small would upset you so much. But your feelings were getting better of you. The whole night you were rolling around in your bed, thinking if he’s home yet, if they are fucking somewhere. You were thinking what would have happened if you just stayed. If you did, he would probably just leave home with you.

Waking up next morning, you wanted to kill yourself. The soreness in your eyes didn’t help either. You saw few messages from Dabi, asking where you are, yada yada. Seeing that it was sent around 4am, you tossed your phone across the bed. Did he stay that long with her ?

You slowly stood up and made your way toward the bathroom, brushing your teeth before leaving home. Your parents were insisting that you should stay, and spend the rest of the day with them. It was Saturday anyway, so you’ll be here later anyway.

But you didn’t want, you had to clean your apartment a bit together with your thoughts. Also it was Minas birthday today, so you had to get ready before you leave for the bbq and her birthday.

Opening the door of your apartment, you saw Dabi’s shoes placed beside yours. Slowly tip toeing, you found him in your bedroom asleep. You slowly closed the door, and started cleaning quietly, making sure not to wake him up.

You wanted to lay down beside him, and simply cuddle yourself close to his body, but because of the thought of the last night, you also wanted to grab his hair and force him out of your apartment.

Of course, once he woke up, you couldn’t be mad at him anymore. You had to act it up, and just ignore what happened, after all how could you explain to him why were you even mad ? Dabi left your place around 16PM, leaving you all alone with your thoughts once again. You whished you could tell him how you felt, you wished he would understand.

When the time came, you wore your light purple spaghetti strap dress. Since the evenings were still kidna cold, you decided to wear your oversized black cardigan that was the same length as your dress. Covering just enough.

After doing your make up and straightening your hair, you placed your small bag over your shoulder and wore your overknee lace up boots before you left. The cardigan was bothering you a bit, since you knew how hot it usually gets when you’re in club, but once the wind brushed your naked tight, you didn’t mind it anymore.

Once you got at your parents place, you helped them with all the preparing. Your mom didn’t let you prepare the food, being scared you’ll ruin your dress. But you still helped with plates and all the alcohol. Placing everything on the table outside.

When they arrived Enji and your dad immediately started with the bbq. Rei and your mom were simply enjoying the evening and sipping on their wine, waiting for their food. While both of you and Dabi were simply on your phones. Once again you were upset, all of them complimented your looks, everyone but him. Piece of shit like he looked any better, whit his simple white shirt and jeans.

Lies.

He looked so beautiful without any effort, the tattoos on his arm totally visible.

You took the wine from the table filling your glass, drinking it fast down. Just the thought of Akari and other girls being all over him was driving you crazy. You had to prepare yourself.

,, Slow down doll, I don’t want to spend the rest of my night holding your hair in the toilet’’ Dabi said taking the now empty glass away from you and laughing a bit.

,,Don’t worry about me, I’m capable of taking care of myself on my own’’ you said taking the glass back and filling it with wine again. Who does he think he is ?

When the meat was done, both of you ate and drank a bit before leaving. Dabi didn’t want to drive since he also had plans to drink. Enji was insisting on giving you a ride, but you two didn’t want to break his fun, after all the club wasn’t that far away.

,,So, who will be there tonight?’’ Dabi asked you, taking the box of cigarettes out of his pocket and lighting one cigarette.

,, Mina of course, Yua, Himari, Ryohei, Hiro, Akari and Kai’’ you said, placing your hands in the pockets of your cardigan.

,, We should make your little Kai jealous, what do you think?’’ He said, placing his arm around your shoulders.

,, Nah, no need’’ you said looking down on the floor.

When you arrived the club was already full of people. Thankfully Mina waited for you two in front of the club, not wanting for you two to waste your time looking for them. You gave her the present that you and Dabi bought few days ago and graduated her. Knowing that Mina is in relationship with Hiro, so the hug she gave Dabi didn’t bother you so much.

Once you got inside, you greeted everyone and ordered your drinks. Of course Akari was giving all of her attention to Dabi, trying to get as close as possible to him.

None of you wanted to wait, so all of you ordered your drinks. You ordered Malibu with cherry juice, you were up for something sweet. Since the sweet drinks kick in much faster and that’s exactly what you needed. Dabi ordered whisky, while Kai, Hiro and Ryohei ordered pure Vodka. Rest of the girls ordered Wine.

,, Hey’’ you heard very familiar voice close to your ear. You turned around sipping on your drink, welcoming Kai with a small smile and nodding your head.

,, How are youu?’’ he asked loud enough for you to hear. Body too close to your own in your opinion.

,, I am good and you?’’ you simply answered finishing your drink, asking yourself why is he starting this random boring chat. Realizing that your friends were eyeing you and your ex down, you smirked to yourself. If they only knew, how little shit you gave about him.

,, Let’s go get another round of drinks’’ you said, and made your way toward the bar, while Kai was following every step you made.

,, You look beautiful tonight’’ Kai pointed after you ordered what everyone was drinking. Well, at least someone appreciates your effort tonight, you thought to yourself.

,, Thank you, you look cool yourself’’ you said already trying your drink, while giving the money with your right hand to the bartender. He didn’t look bad at all, wearing black button up shirt, one part of it tucked in his jeans. His typical black convers shoes. He looked good.

Once you two got back, placing all the drinks on the table, you could feel Dabi’s eyes on you. You weren’t sure if he wanted to tell you something, so you took his Whisky and went to him.

,, What is it ?’’ you asked giving him his drink.

,, Nothing at all’’ he replied eying you down. He was about to say something more, but Akari interrupted him, saying some nonsense. Not wanting to watch them together, you just left them, making your way toward Ryohei, Himari and Kai on the dancefloor.

All of you were dancing. Jumping around and waving your body to the sound of the music. You realized that Kai was trying real hard to get you to himself, but sadly your drinks didn’t hit you that much yet. Still the only person that was on your mind was Dabi. You wanted to look at him, and see what’s he doing, but you were afraid once you turn around you’ll find Akari all over him again, or even worse making out with him. It would definitely ruin your night.

After few more drinks, you finally started getting tipsy. While Mother Mother was playing, you and Himari were jumping around, making your way back toward the table to get your other drink that was already there, you two were screaming at each other ,, My daddy’s got a gun, My daddy’s got a gun, My daddy’s got a gun, you better run’’ moving your body crazily just as the music was.

,, Cheers’’ Himari screamed, once both of you placed a bit salt on your hand. Licking the salt of your hand, both of you drank the tequila fast before sucking the lemon. Making the weird face, both of you laughed preparing another shot.

Making your way back to the others, both of you were going crazy to the beat of the song you loved. With a new drink in your hand, you didn’t think about the consequences. After all the music was just so good, you simply had to drink.

Dancing around, you felt a body pressed against your. Tilting your head to the side, you realized it’s Kai standing behind you, trying to get as much of you as he could. At that moment you didn’t give a fuck anymore, just giving in and dancing with him. You saw Himari and Mina laughing at you, thinking you two will get together.

,, I’ll go smoke one fast, wanna come?’’ Kai asked. You simply shook your head giving him a sign that you'll simply wait and found yourself once again dancing with Himari. You were glad Himari was there, since without her you wouldn’t have much fun as you had now.

,, You are fast’’ you said, feeling Kai’s body behind you again. Slow down by Chase Atlantic started playing, no better song for grinding your body against someone else. Moving your body slowly, you felt his hands holding your hips firmly.

,, Are you sure you aren‘t into daddy kink doll?“raspy and deep voice made you twitch in shock. ,, What’s wrong? Didn’t expect me ?’’ he added, holding your hips stronger, not giving you any chance to move away from him.

You felt like there was no need to answer him, since Mina bought you another drink you were already busy sipping on your drink . After all, all you wanted to do was drink and get wasted in that moment anyway. So you moved your body from the side to the side, enjoying how close his body was to yours.

Realizing that you drank your drink, Dabi took it form your hand and gave it to the bartender that was passing by anyway. Turning you around to face him, he took your arms and placed them around his neck, while his own arms found their way to your waist.

,, Wasn’t the plan to make Kai jealous?’’ he asked. You could feel his hot breath on your ear. Tilting your head a bit to the left, you closed your eyes and gave him a small nod with the biggest grin ever.

The grin was long gone once you felt his hands over your ass, squeezing it tightly. ,, Then why am I at the end the jealous one ?’’ He asked giving you one more squeeze. Drunk like that you forgot about your friends and what might they think.

,, Is this how you treat your daddy?’’ he added, not giving you a chance to even progress the last question he gave you. You were never into daddy kink, but coming from his lips, you were ready to call him daddy as much as he wanted.

,, I want.. drink.. haha’’ you said laughing, hoping he will get you another one, since you weren’t capable to do it on your own anymore.

,, We are going home’’ he said. He was already tipsy on his own, but nowhere drunk as you were. He told everyone that you two are leaving, not giving you much time to greet them. Seeing disappointed look on Akari’s face made your night. IN YOUR FACE YOU BITCH ASS HOE

Dabi helped you wear your cardigan, and placed your bag over your shoulders, before he placed his hand around your waist helping you walk a bit. Well, you could walk, but with his grip around you, it was much easier.

,, I thought you could take care of yourself’’ he said once you two were outside. He placed you on the nearest bench, just to light up his cigarette before he pulled you up once again. You placed your arm around his shoulders, bragging about how you can walk perfectly fine.

,, Stop pissing me off doll, you’re hard to hold’’ he said as his grip was getting stronger.

,,Or what ?’’ You laughed, taking the cigarette from him and placing it between your lips. You don’t smoke usually, but alcohol took over you. Dabi laughed surprised, not used at the sight of you smoking.

,, My little Touya, you weren’t even born when I started smoking’’ you managed to say, while he was just laughing at the nonsense you were telling him.

Dabi didn’t know what he should do first, hold you firmly or pull your dress down, scared it was to high up for everyone else to see what’s under it.

,,Now, behave yourself, we are almost home’’ he said pulling your dress down a little, and throwing the almost done cigarette from your lips on the floor.

At his and your surprise both of your parents were still outside enjoying their time. You threw your arm up in the air ready to greet them, but Dabi stopped you fast enough. It’s not like your parents have anything against you drinking. But he wasn’t in a mood to talk with them about anything tonight. And he knew very well that drunk like that you were more then ready for a chat with them.

,, Already home?’’ Enji screamed once he saw you two. You were ready to brag about how you wanted to party a bit longer, but Dabi once again stopped you, telling them how you didn’t feel good that much.

,,What’s your problem man ?’’ You hissed at the party breaker that was pulling you upstairs to your room. Looking how your parents prepared your room made you grin. There was a mattress beside your bed prepared for Dabi.

,, They really think you’ll sleep down there’’ you grinned.

,, Obviously’’ Dabi said, placing you slowly on your bed.

,, Now, change into your pajama while I’m brushing my teeth’’ he said slowly, making sure you understand every word.

With alcohol in your system, you just lain down to rest a bit, before getting all the power and will you had to change.

Pulling your dress over your head, you started looking for your pajamas. Seeing Dabi’s shirt on the floor, you felt satisfied and just wore it. Standing there in the room, you thought if it’s his shirt he wore today, or just the one he got himself for bed. You would rather sleep naked than in a shirt he just wore in the club. Even the thought of the smell of all the smoke and alcohol made you feel dizzy.

Taking the part of his shirt, you pulled it close enough for you to sniff it making sure it’s not his shirt from clubbing.

,,What are you doing doll? ‘’ You froze. Looking to the side, you saw him leaning on the doorframe while smirk was formed on his lips. Luckily there was enough alcohol in your system to feel embarrassed in that very moment, since the view of you sniffing his shirt was weird as fuck.

,, Can’t get enough of me ?’’ he added getting closer to you. ,, You have to wear some shorts, or I’ll really be forced sleep on the mattress tonight’’ he added looking you up and down, while you just stood there speechless.

,, Come here, let’s take off your make up’’ he said, placing his hand on your back, leading the way to the bathroom.

Once you were in the bathroom, Dabi pulled you up, making you sit on the washing machine. Slowly helping you wash your teeth. Swinging your legs playfully, Dabi almost poured the water he prepared for you on the floor. Placing the glass to the side, he took your legs and wrapped them around his waist. Even tho you weren’t sober, you could completely understand the position you were in. Taking the wet wipes he started cleaning your make up carefully. You just closed your eyes enjoying his touch on your face, while he was giving his best to do it gentle as possible.

Sudden feel of a skin brushing over your nose made you open your eyes. Seeing his face not even inches from yours, made you froze. His nose brushing against your own, before you felt his soft lips against your own.

,, You are driving me crazy’’ he said, placing his forehead against yours. Not thinking twice you placed your hands on his cheeks and pulled him in for another kiss. At first you knew that he was surprised since he just stood there, but after a short second you felt him smile into the kiss, leaning in and wanting more.

With his hands under your, or better to say his own shirt, he was moving them up and down slowly. The touch of his hands rubbing your naked skin softly made you want more of him. Pulling him closer with your legs, you placed your hands on his chest , wanting to feel everything you could.

Pulling your head back breaking the kiss, you attacked his neck, leaving wet kisses all over it. Touya pulled your body up, placing his hands on your ass, making his way toward your room. Making small breaks while pushing your body against the wall trying to kissing you like his life depended on it.

Once he placed you on the bad, he didn’t waste any time, hovering over you and kissing your neck. Wanting everyone to know to who you belong to. He wanted to make sure the next time you see Kai, he will know that Dabi is the one that’s dicking you down.

,, I know you couldn’t stand the sight of me and Akari, but grinding on Kai like a little whore, making me all jealous was really unnecessary’’ he gasped between kisses. Pulling the shirt over your head he threw it over the room, leaving you only in your panties. ,, especially in that little dress of yours” he added, as he looked over your half naked body.

,, Fuck you, what did you expect of me, I was mad’’ you moaned out once you felt his lips on your breast, sucking and biting it.

,, Well.. guess what’’ he said, still sucking your boob, while squeezing the other one.

,,What?’’ you breathed out, eyes closed while enjoying his lips on your body.

,, Daddy will punish his little naughty girl’’ he said, once again leaving wet love marks all over your chest.

,,Touya, I’m really not into daddy kink’’ you said, your hands deep inside his hair.

,, But I am’’ he said, his head in front of your, making eye contact with you. ,, And tonight I want everyone to know who your real daddy is. I want everyone to know who you belong to’’ he said, wrapping his hand around your throat. ,, Do you understand me ?’’ he added.

,,Yes’’ you whispered, not breakig the eye contact.

,,Yes what?’’ he asked as his hand started to apply pressure to your throat. Not being used to choking, you couldn’t really manage to give him the right answer. It wasn’t the kind of choking where you felt like passing out because of the lack of oxygen, but you were still new to it.

,,Yes daddy’’ you managed to say somehow. Satisfied with your answer, Dabi moved his hand away from your throat, leaving small kisses over the same spot where his hand left small marks.

,, Such a good girl’’ he said, pulling your panties down. Licking his lips, as you were exposed to him. The fact that you were so valuable to him, and knowing how much power he had over you was turning Touya even more on.

Not wasting any time, he spread your thighs further apart, his head leaning down to run his tongue through your folds. Feeling his tongue piercing on your clit, something you always wanted to feel, made you throw you head back into the pillow, while grabbing Dabi’s head pulling him closer to yourself.

Licking you around your opening, the warm and hot feeling of his tongue, mixed with cold feeling of his piercing was making you shiver. You could feel him smirk against your core as he saw how much effect he has on you. You moan as his lips and tongue move against your folds, eating you out like it’s his last meal.

,,Touya please’’ you moan out, as he sucks roughly on your bundle of nerves, causing your body to jolt up, as your fingers grab his messy hair.

Flicking his tongue roughly and tugging your clit, his hands were holding your thighs firmly, as his light blue eyes were focused on you. It doesn’t take him long to make you cum all over his mouth, his name falling from your lips shamelessly. Climbing over you, he kissed you passionately, making you taste yourself on his lips.

Pulling away from the kiss, you started kissing his tattoos, something you wanted to do long time ago. Especially since he came back. Dabi breathed heavily, his head hanging low, while you were under him kissing every little line that covered his body.

He gave you the time you needed, exploring his body as much as you wanted. But once he felt your small hands pulling down his shorts together with his boxers, and licking the tip of his already erected dick, he had to stop you. At your surprise, even his dick was pierced.

,, Another time doll’’ he said, pulling you up. ,, I’ve been dying to fuck you since forever’’ he added, slowly rubbing the tip of his dick around your core. Without any warning his slammed his whole length inside making your scream both in pleasure and pain. Wiggling a little, trying to move just a bit away from him, hoping the pain will go away. But Touya couldn’t let that happened, now when he finally had his dick deep inside you.

,,Just relax baby’’ he said not moving, letting you adjust to his size. Placing soft kisses all over your jaw, then slowly moving out of you, only for him to slide back in, so slow that you could feel every vain of his dick move, together with his piercing rubbing your walls.

Dabi was moving so slow, grinding his hips against yours, as his fingers were rubbing your clit gently. Sliding out of you only until the edge of his head remains, before moving slowly again in, repeating the same move all over again. Only God knew how much he wanted to break you.

,, Touya’’ you moan out once he wraps his fingers with yours, placing your left arm above your head, while his right fingers were still rubbing your clit in circles. Your legs shake as you wrap them around him, another orgasm hitting you hard.

Dabi moans with you, as you squeeze his dick while riding of your orgasm. With you having your second orgasm, he couldn’t hold himself any longer. Your warm walls around him coated in juices were driving him crazy. All the soft and slow moves were forgotten, making his motions now much deeper and intense. Pulling out till the end and slamming recklessly into you again. Groaning in pleasure, he was slamming into you with a speed you could only imagine.

,, Touya, slow down’’ you moaned, closing your eyes, still sensitive from your second orgasm. ,, I don’t think I can take it’’ you added, trying to catch your breath.

,,Of course you can take it. Look at you, you’re taking it right now doll’’ he groaned, holding your hips in one place while fucking you hard like no one ever has before. You were a moaning mess, with every move your moans were louder.

,, Oh God, Touya’’ you moaned, fingers still connected to his. Grabbing his back with your left hand and digging your fingers inside his skin.

,, You’re takng it so well love’’ he said, groaning as he felt the pressure of your nails digging into his back. ,, Go ahead, scratch my back as much as you want’’ he added kissing you sloppily.

Once he started rubbing your clit again, you found yourself digging your nails into his back like a wild cat, finding comfort in it. ,, Touya’’ you moaned his name out as both of you were coming closer to your highs. You could feel his dick twitching inside of you, his moves becoming more deeper and jankier. His eyes were shut, while your body started shaking once again. Once again you felt your orgasm pulsing through your stomach, and there you were again squeezing his dick not being able to control yourself as you moaned his name over and over again. Dabi continued fucking you , his groans getting louder and louder, feeling your walls getting tighter and tighter while you were milking his dick down, he released. Emptying his seeds deep into you.

Both of you stayed in the same position, trying to breath normally. His thumb gently rubbing your hand, as he placed kisses all over your bruised neck.

,, You have no idea how much I wanted to be with you’’ he said between the kisses. ,,I’m so in love with you doll’’ he breathed out, making you feel butterfly’s inside your stomach.

,, Are you?’’ you asked, tilting your head just enough to look at him.

,, Don’t act like you didn’t know already’’ he said smiling, while brushing his nose against your cheek. Of course you didn’t know.

,,Fuck you, I was dying here for you, thinking my love is just one sided’’ you said hitting his chest lightly. ,, I even dated Kai hoping I’ll forget you somehow’’ you added hitting him once again, making him laugh a bit.

,, Don’t mention his name. That’s the past. You belong to me now, only me’’ he said, grabbing your jaw and kissing you. You were always his anyway.

,, All yours, Touya’’ you said, kissing him back-

,, Are you kids awake ? ´´ Enji’s head peeked inside your room, finding his eldest son naked on top of his best friends daughter. Making him choke on the air and forgetting the actual reason he was looking for you two.

[dccomicsimagines]

My Business - Clark Kent x Reader

Requested by Anon -  A superman x reader imagine with the prompt: "I found your nose! It was in my business."

Requested by warblinglion0  - Hi! Could I request a Clark Kent imagine please??

***

Clark closed his eyes against the blowing snow. He flew over the city, using his super hearing to guide him. The city was quieter than normal. The snowstorm had shut almost everything down. 

He sighed, swooping down to help a woman carry home groceries. “Thank you, Superman,” she shouted once she was at her building. Clark waved at her and took off into the sky again. 

Most of his day was spent helping stranded people with the storm. He had already written his article about the impact of the storm on Metropolis’ sewer system. Perry could forgive boring content when the storm created a slow news day. Clark snorted. He bet Lois found some kind of amazing story in this weather. 

He landed on the top of the Daily Planet. The cold air felt sharp in his lungs. It reminded him of winters at home. He looked out at the snow covered city, thinking of turning in. A cup of hot chocolate while watching that documentary he felt would give him an edge in a story he was researching. He felt warm already. 

“Get lost, jerk.” Your voice hit his ears. Clark’s eyes widened in surprise. It was like he was subconsciously listening for you sometimes. Your voice always came to him in the moments he never suspected. 

He floated into the air, searching for you. You sounded too close to be at your apartment across town. 

“Stupid, country bum,” a man’s voice echoed near you. Clark heard a door slam. He flew faster before slowing when he found you trudging through the snow in the street. His stomach dropped at how underdressed you were. You didn’t even have a coat on.

He almost flew down to you, but he stopped himself. People couldn’t see Superman around you. Too risky. He quickly flew to his apartment only a block away. Changing into regular clothes, he made sure to pick up an extra coat for you before zooming back to you. 

***

You wrapped your arms around yourself and cursed your situation. Why didn’t you bring a coat? Why did you decide to go the the club during a snowstorm? You shook your head, feeling the snow settled on your head. Everything was shut down. You shivered, crossing the street to make the long walk home. 

“(Y/N)? What are you doing out here?” Clark’s voice made you jump. You spun around, seeing him run over to you. Ironically, he was dressed for the weather. Funny since he couldn’t feel the cold. “Where’s your coat?” He had an extra coat over his arm, which he quickly wrapped around you. You slipped your arms in the sleeves, noting how warm it was. 

A shaky laugh escaped you. “I found your nose. It’s in my business...again.” You tapped his nose before struggling to zip up the coat. Your fingers were already numb, burning from the cold. Clark shook his head, smiling as he zipped it for you. 

“Come on. It’s too far for you to go home now. My place is nearby.” He wrapped a strong arm around you and led you home. “Now why are you out in this weather?”

He was so warm and his big frame blocked the wind. “Well, I got invited to a club by some friends of Lucy’s.” You bit your lip. “I thought I’d go, but then one of the guys started making fun of me when I didn’t know what...” You stopped yourself from spilling the embarrassing conversation. “Never mind.” 

“You’re always getting in trouble.” Clark unlocked his building’s front door and held it open for you. You hurried inside, stomping your feet to knock off the snow. Shivers rocked your body, you could have swore ice was forming on your body. 

“And you’re always popping up to help.” You rolled your eyes. “I never would have thought my good old brother, Pete, would ask you to keep an eye on me so much. Do you two even talk that much anymore?” 

“We do.” Clark bit his lip. Pete Ross didn’t call him that much, but they always caught up when Clark went home for a visit. It was actually during one of those visits that Pete asked Clark to keep an eye on his younger sibling who got it into their head to move to Metropolis. Pete thought you were in over your head, and honestly, most of the time you were. 

You pulled Clark’s jacket closer as you both headed to the elevator. “I mean there was that time where I was in that bad roommate situation, so you helped me move. Then I wanted to rent that one place for really cheap and you stepped in to show me how bad it was. Of course, then you came in with that offer to live with Lucy Lane in a nicer part of town.” 

Clark blushed slightly. “Well, it’s the least I could do. I mean you’re practically family, (Y/N).” 

Your stomach soured slightly. You were afraid he only saw you as Pete’s little tagalong sibling. Who could blame him when you felt so helpless most of the time? “I personally think it’s because you want to make up for breaking up my mud mask business in the fifth grade.” 

He laughed hard, almost doubling over. “You were taking mud from the pond and mixing it with your mother’s perfume. It made three people break out in hives.” 

“I had a warning label on it.” You smiled at his reaction. “And it was five dollars a bottle.” 

Clark shook his head. “Ma actually bought one from you. She didn’t use it though. In fact, I think she still has it sitting in the garage.” 

“Too bad for her. Lana swore by it. Said it cleared up her acne just like that.” You snapped your fingers, chuckling along with him. The elevator doors opened and Clark led the way down the hall to his apartment. 

“In all seriousness though, you shouldn’t have went out with a storm on the way. The city shuts down during snowstorms.” Clark unlocked his apartment door and pushed it open to let you in first. 

“The club was still open.” You wandered inside, flicking on the lights to take in the bland surroundings. The only personal items were a framed newspaper article and three family pictures of the Kents. 

“Stupidly still open, yes.” Clark shut the door and locked it. “I’ll make some hot chocolate. Make yourself comfortable, (Y/N).” He took off his coat and shook it out before pulling off his shoes. You kept the coat on, still warming up. 

Clark went into the kitchen and you trailed behind him. “Were you as helpless as me when you first moved here?” you asked suddenly as you took a seat at the counter. Clark blinked, turning to look at you while he turned on the stove. 

“Yes. I had no idea what I was doing and I had a few tricky situations myself.” He smiled. “I’m glad I can help you not to make the same mistakes I did.” 

You hummed. He turned back to start warming up the milk. “Of course it was easier for you. Being Superman and all.” Clark flinched, looking at you with wide eyes. You laughed at the sight. “I know. I know. We’re not supposed to talk about it. It’s the thing we know, but never speak of.” 

Clark sighed. “I don’t think that made it easier for me.” He cleared his throat, turning back to the stove. “It was hard to hide my powers. To have some much noise around me all the time. Not to mention when I decided to become Superman.” 

You watched him, noting the tension in his shoulders. Part of you wanted to go hug him, but you resisted. You didn’t know how he would react. “I remember the first time we knew for sure that you were something special. It was during winter break one year. You, Pete, and Tommy Johnson were trying to go ice fishing at the lake. I followed you because you wouldn’t let me come and I was being stubborn.”

“You fell through the ice because you walked on the thin part.” Clark hummed, getting out the chocolate mix. 

“No one would have noticed, but you heard me scream.” You crossed your arms. The chill from the freezing water felt like a permanent scar every time you thought back on that day. “I went under the ice and I couldn’t find a way to get out.” 

“I dived in after you.” Clark mixed in the chocolate slowly. You wondered if he was remembering how cold the water was too, even though he didn’t get cold. “I had to break through the ice once I found you. Pete and Tommy ran over to help. I let them pull us out. Tommy couldn’t believe I broke through the ice, but Pete told him it was thin there too.”

“None of us said anything about it, but you did save my life that day.” You took a deep breath, slipping off your chair. Taking off his coat, you were finally warm enough. “We always knew, but never really talked about it. I remember I tried to ask Pete to ask you to lift this big rock for me and he slapped my face.” 

“He slapped you?” Clark spun to you, staring at your cheek like Pete just slapped you right this second. You chuckled and touched your cheek. It had stun a lot. You cried at the time.

“Pete was protecting you. Like I said it’s the thing we all knew, but never talked about.” Your face burned at the concern on his face. “I’m fine, Clark.” 

Clark bit his lip, turning away to grab two mugs out of the cabinet. You snorted when you saw he had a superman mug. “Ma gave this to me. She thought it was funny.” He handed you a filled mug and turned off the stove. 

“It is if you know.” You took a sip, licking your lips. “This is good.”

“Thanks, I learned from the best.” Clark took a sip of his own hot chocolate. “I was going to watch a documentary for work if you want join me? Otherwise, we can just watch regular TV, I’m not picky.” 

You headed into the living room and made yourself comfortable on his couch. “The documentary is fine. I like learning.”

“I bet Mrs. G just rolled over in her grave at that.” Clark laughed. “I remember how you made her so mad that her face turned completely red like she was going to burst into flames.” 

“Good times.” You laughed, relaxing as Clark sat down beside you. Shyly, he grabbed a blanket and covered you and himself with it. You hesitated before cuddling into his side.

Clark paused. You saw a mixed expression of emotions cross his face. “You comfortable?”

“Yep.” You took another sip from your mug. Clark relaxed and turned on the documentary. The two of you snuggled while the snowstorm raged outside.

***

The next morning, Clark was startled to hear eggs frying in the kitchen. He slowly got out of bed and was about to leave his bedroom until he remembered you. Quickly, he pulled on an old Smallville High t-shirt. No reason to scare you with his bare chest. 

You were in the kitchen. Clark stopped in the doorway, his breath taken away. He had forgotten he had given you a shirt of his to wear. You turned when you heard his gasp. “Good morning.” You waved innocently before turning back to the stove. “I hope you don’t mind that I made us breakfast. I figured it was the least I could do since you let me stay here last night.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to send you out into the storm.” Clark sat down at the table. His body threatened to burst into flames. Why did you look so good in his shirt?

“You could have flown me home.” Clark watched you as you made a plate for him. He almost groaned at how domestic it was. Part of him wished you could be here every morning. However, the other part of him knew you were Pete Ross’ sibling. Off limits.

Clark cleared his throat. You set the plate in front of him. “Thank you.” He dug into the food to distract himself from the racing thoughts. 

You laughed and made a plate for yourself. Clark tensed when you sat down right next to him. “So it’s still snowing outside,” you said, picking at your food.

“It is.” Clark glanced out the window at the winter wonderland outside. “I’ll have to insist you stay here.”

“Oh, you wouldn’t have to insist.” You met his eye, winking at him. “But what are we going to do all day long?”

Clark took a big bite of eggs. His heart fluttered at your wink. “I do have to write an article, but after we could...I don’t know...maybe break out that game we used to play?”

“You still have that? And you have it here?” You gasped, clapping your hands. 

“Ma sent it to me a year ago. Said I might need it.” Clark chuckled. He avoid mentioning that Ma only sent it after she found you out were moving to Metropolis. Come to think of it, Clark wondered if Ma knew something he didn’t. Then again, she always did.

You went into a story about when you all first played the game. Clark listened, remembering it himself. You, Pete, and Clark played the game for the first time in the basement of his house while there was a tornado warning. A warm fuzzy feeling came to his chest. Clark decided then and there that he would call Pete once you went home and ask him for permission to ask you out. 

[whump-town]

Stubborn

Everybody taking care of old Hotch because... I don't like it when old Hotch gets left to just die on his own :( don't ask why that's where I draw the line

No pairings

No warnings

In Jack’s second semester of his junior year, Hotch collapses again. He’s home this time, out in his garden under the glaring sun. The day had begun no different than any other. The birds on the powerline chirping and causing their disturbances, as eager for the day to begin as the school-aged children shouting in the street. He’d watched them from the sliding glass door facing the street, his tea warm in his hands. He’d waved at a few, the older ones who recognize him as a mystifying adult with stories to be unlocked. The younger children give him a face akin to a monster’s, his mystery horrifying in their already confusing enough lives.

It’s an hour before lunch. Two hours before Spencer shows up because it’s Thursday and he teaches a class on this side of town every Tuesday and Thursday at 2. One that he occasionally asks Hotch to attend -- as a guest lecturer, as a treat to his students, or just for the company.

He could call just about anyone.

Emily’s downtown, on her way back from a meeting with the Department of Justice. She’d be thrilled for an excuse to not go back to the office and spend an hour or two in his kitchen telling him about those pretentious assholes.

Garcia’s about ten minutes away, working at a nonprofit teaching “at-risk” kids how to code. Being the guiding hand she’d needed as a teenager so that they might not repeat the same mistakes she made. She was lucky, Hotch saved her but he’s not around to catch any more kids like her.

Morgan got hired by a family two streets over to fix up their house before they move in. He’s there now, tearing out rotting beams.

This collapse is not of the life-threatening kind. Not to Hotch at least. There’s no internal bleeding, no emergency surgeries. He doesn’t even need stitches but he’s on so many medications that thin his blood that it’s just on the safer side. From the hospital, he calls who he needs to. Reid first, he’ll worry when he gets to Hotch’s house and sees his truck gone. Then, Jack, it’s better to hear this sort of thing from him and not Emily in half an hour when she needs to yell at someone and who better than the son of the idiot she hates right now? Dave and Emily follow and he trusts them to carry the news the rest of the way. Rather, he simply doesn’t want to talk about it anymore and he’d rather Garcia and JJ and Morgan and everyone else just be mad at him than go on to have another conversation about how he’s feeling.

Fine. He just got light-headed. It was the heat and his perpetually low iron and probably his thin blood (the killer had been his blood pressure but they’re working on that). He just needs to get better about remembering to eat breakfast -- a larger breakfast than just tea and toast. Fainting, he assures Dave, happens. Jack’s seen it happen. The heat makes it worse, the summertime drains him. He’s come in from the garden and gotten weak in the knees plenty of times. He actually moved some chairs around the sliding glass door to the yard, prepared for this exact problem.

This over clarification does not help.

Made only the more complicated when he explains his head is fine. The fainting thing really isn’t a big deal, he just needs a ride home. He’d landed weirdly and pulled his back. He left with a new problem entirely, a torn ligament in his shoulder. That is a problem for a different day.

The surgery is set for the week just before Jack’s finals. Armed with a suitcase full of textbooks, his laptop, notes from this semester (and a few from last), and just enough clothes to recycle a few and still be fine, Jack shows up on his father’s doorstep. “I mean, the hospital isn’t exactly the library… but it’s not the worst place I’ve studied.” It’s far too late to send Jack back but Hotch is reluctant to let him stay. Even if he does prefer Jack be his ride rather than the likes of Penelope and that tiny green eye-sore of a car she drives or leave him to Reid and his defensive, jerky driving.

To the sound of “Aaron Hotchner November 2, 1971”, Jack settles down with his books. He tries to put himself in the right headspace for studying but it’s harder than he anticipated. The constant motion of the room unsettles him and he looks up several times to see his father’s reaction. To gauge the anxiety in his face, in the deep breathes that he pulls in through his nose. In how tight his fists are holding the sheets underneath him. It’s a simple surgery and they’ll be out of here in no time.

“Young” his heart had not handled the heavy sedatives and morphine well. Then again, those incidents are always hard to measure against a thing like this. Rushed into the ER with nine chest wounds and having nearly bled to death, it’s natural to conclude the stress of his depleted blood supply and his very recent trauma had caused his heart to stop on the table. That said trauma was the reason his heart had maintained to be a steady problem up until they released him. Again, when he was brought in with some of the worst internal bleedings the staff had ever seen. His heart had given them trouble too.

Jack is staring blankly at his flashcards when the doctor comes out.

Hotch had gone to Georgetown to be a lawyer like his father and his grandfather. Jack went to Georgetown to get an Art History degree. He was lead by something else. Not chasing some shadow, clutching at a lie he spoonfed himself. Jack didn’t live in anyone’s shadow, never felt the pressure to look and act a certain way. Was never beaten into submission or told to hold his tongue. Jack went to museums every Saturday with his father, preferred them to the aquariums and the zoo. Hotch held him close to the artwork, pushed his dense schedule around to go to new shows, and learned the names of pieces just to recite the knowledge back to Jack.

In his lap, Jack is memorizing pieces of art like his father had years ago for him. He’s stuck on The Anatomy Lesson, eyes glued to the details. The way colorless skin is held in forceps, peeled back to reveal angry red. He can feel the pinching teeth on his own skin, feels the heavy flow of hot blood spilling down over his arm.

“Hotchner?”

Jack flinches, caught completely off guard. He stands, flushing as he tucks his notecards into his textbook, and stands. “Ugh, yeah. That’s me.” He wipes his hands off on his pants, rubbing away the nervous sweat he’s built up.

The doctor recognizes him from earlier. He’d watched Jack and Hotch get out one last goodbye. Jack pulling up a nervous smile, dirty-blonde hair, and light eyes a complete contrast to Hotch’s ever-darkening features. Somehow more solemn, voice taken by the sedatives already working through his body. He hadn’t said a word, eyes vacantly following Jack’s movements but unaware.

Jack expects the same monologue he hears every time. The one that comes out so dry and perfect that they must practice it in front of the mirror, say it softly to themselves as they as they get ready each morning. He’s got it memorized himself -- the bits about recovering in post-op, make a full recovery, and whatever on the fly timeline they give for access back to the room.

“But he’s-- He’s okay? He’s--”

Jack feels impossibly childish. Five years old and Emily’s chilled fingers brushing his tears away, “baby, I know you miss your mommy. But you’re being so terribly mean to your daddy.” He had been, a terrible little monster squirming away from his father and refusing to eat anything. Throwing tantrums about nothing and everything. Screaming and crawling under his bed every chance he got. Pushing himself to the wall knowing he couldn’t be reached.

Now he can remember Hotch just sitting at the edge of the bed. There on the floor for hours. Sometimes he read, would pick up a book, and just start from wherever just to make it so his voice was reaching where he couldn’t. He slept there too, on the hard ground just to make sure Jack knew he was there. Slipped strawberry pop tarts on crazily designed animal plated under there, offered bites of his own food to the darkness under the bed. Sippy cups full of chocolate milk and juice.

He feels like a little boy again, getting news that he has no idea how to handle.

“He’s okay?” Jack stammers. “He’s going to be okay? I can see him?”

Hotch remembers those days under the bed too. Waking up in the middle of the night as Jack groggily curled close to him, still under the bed but crawling under his blanket. The ends of those awful sobs, Jack’s little chest jerking as he hiccuped. The force of his sorrow was too much for his little body. And Jack would fall into his lap, exhausted and needing comfort. His little fingers tracing the scars on Hotch’s face. How he whispered “thank you” and “please” from underneath the bed and how he’d pop his head out to say, “Daddy, I’m going to potty. I’ll be right back.”

Jack’s legally old enough to drink now and Hotch still sees that little boy. The three-year-old wiping his snot on Hotch’s dress shirt. The six-year-old holding his hand and reminding him to look both ways twice before crossing the street. The eight-year-old he left the hallway light on for, old enough now to think he needed to brave the night without a nightlight. So Hotch would offer to keep the hallway light on, not for Jack but for him because he doesn’t like the dark. The ten-year-old sheepishly offering him a father’s day gift he bought with saved allowance, a t-shirt he’s now worn the words off of. The fifteen-year-old curling up beside him on the couch, seeking his comfort but not sure how to ask anymore. The eighteen-year-old as tall as him talking his ear off while he tries to get dinner ready, sticking his fingers in the pan and sitting on the counter.

How did he grow up so fast?

He’s not a little boy anymore. Hasn’t been for a long time.

The creaking of a chair moves Hotch’s attention and he looks away from Jack. Away from the sight of his little boy curled up on a cot, drooling onto a pillow and notebook still open, a pen dangling from his fingers. He looks over and Emily’s sitting up, her reading glasses precariously sat on the tip of her nose. “Oh look,” she mumbles. She stretches out, groaning as her joints complain from being held in this miserable hospital chair for hours. “You’ve decided to join the land of the living.”

Hotch watches her fold the thin black frames of her glasses up, gently sits them down by his hand as she stands up. Jack had called her, even though he promised he wouldn’t worry anyone. Hotch didn’t want anyone else coming to the hospital over something so small and though Jack protested that their concern wouldn’t be because he was bothering them but because they love him. The very same reason he’d come home is that people gather after these sorts of things. They need reassurance that he’s alive and he’s just going to have to accept that. They compromised in the end, everyone could come to smother him in worry after he got home from the surgery.

But Jack was scared. He called the only person he could think to, the woman whose role in his life that was never really clear. She’d gotten on him about his grades, smacked the back of his head when he said something stupid, and always let him taste-test her wine at Thanksgiving dinner. Emily knew things that not even Jessica knew and she could be sterner than both Hotch and Jessica and also more relaxed, more understanding. She was always there for both of them, in the same capacity as Jessica and yet her own unique one. A friend Hotch trusted and loved and Jack could understand that. His friends always wanted to know if they were dating and he knew intuitively that the answer was no but he would hesitate to try and explain. But he didn’t understand the gravity that pulled them together, adults and their relationships far too complex to fit it into his simple understanding of love.

He did understand she was the only person to call.

“What’d he do this time?” she asked and knew she was playing the wrong role for the wrong Hotchner because no sooner than she could ask she had an armful of Jack. She sat with Jack for hours, let him get his fear out. Held him while he sobbed, felt pulled to the past. When it was Aaron on her shoulder, terrified he’d lose his son. Life has this very odd way of bringing everything full circle.

“I bet you’re hurting.” Emily moves to the table and pours water into the little paper Dixie cup left by the nurses. “Been right dramatic this afternoon,” she informs him, a dissatisfied matter-of-fact tone in play. “I know you find that to be particularly taxing.” She holds the cup for him, gentle despite her annoyance. She’s close enough to see the iodine on his skin. Dark orange swipes across his pale skin, the smell burns with its strength.

He pulls greedily from the cup, mouth impossibly dry. Stopped only by how little she poured, he sinks back heavily into the pillows behind him. His shoulder hot and angry from forcing himself upright.

“They’re going to let you go in the morning,” she says, sitting back down. He won’t remember this in the morning. Emily holding his hand, whispering thickly how angry she is with him as tears fall down her face. How scared she was getting that phone call from Jack, racing down here to be a composed person to comfort his son thinking her best friend was in the morgue.

He’ll wake up with a pit in his stomach, residual feelings from the night before he can’t tie down to memories. Emily shows no inclination to repeat herself, just coldly informs him that she’ll have Penelope make him a cardiologist appointment (it’s unspoken that no one trusts him to do this himself). Jack walks on glass, close by but terrified of being pushed away. Hotch is too out of it to put up much of a fight, by the time the morning shift has their hands on him he’s silent. Properly dosed up for a ride home and out of his mind.

He’s groggily propped up on pillows, watching Jack and Emily fight over if he has the right to wear shoes or not. Emily wants to hold them captive, he won’t run off or refuse the wheelchair without them and Jack shakes his head, “he’s not our P.O.W, Emily. He’s even going to get that far if he does try to run.” He’s given his shoes but Emily makes a point to collect his cane, holds it while the nurse helps him into the wheelchair. He’s a flight-risk and she’s not going to trust him, he’s run off on her too many times for that.

At the house the other’s have gathered up, having nothing better to do evidently on a Wednesday at ten in the morning. Penelope’s frying eggs and bacon, the carnage it takes to feed their brood spread out on his kitchen counter. Reid sitting on the counter, Hank in his lap, and the two of them watching Penelope. Derek’s on the sofa, feet kicked up on the coffee table, and Savannah learning on his shoulder. Dave’s getting orange juice from the store declared them all lawless, and didn’t trust them to get the right kind.

Hotch is granted his cane to get back inside the house but Emily threatens to kick it out from underneath if he tries anything fast. He smacks her ankle and Jack has to actually step between them to keep them apart. It’s in times like these where Jack finds himself wondering how these two ever had any role in raising him at all.

“Don’t you have jobs?” Hotch asks, hooking his cane over the coat rack and toeing his shoes off. He ignores the hand Emily places on his arm, afraid he’ll knock himself over. He manages just fine, has the whole house set up so that every other step is within arms distance of something to lean on. Fingers trailing the back of the couch he limps past Derek, smiling when Savannah offers a soft “glad you’re okay”. She pats his hand and he nods back.

“Up for some food, sir?” Penelope asks and she’s not taking no for an answer. They might be having heaping servings of eggs and bacon and gravy and orange juice but she’s made two small bowls of oatmeal. She takes the medicine Jack tosses up on the counter, puts it at the end where the rest of his medication sits. “I cut up apples,” she tells Hotch with a wide grin, sliding the bowl in front of him. “Dashed a little cinnamon and sugar in there, it’ll stick to your bones. Keep you healthy.”

He’s at a healthy weight at the moment, not as thin as he leans to when he’s sick but with Hotch, it’s always a good thing to have some collateral weight for the “in case”. Lifting the spoon in his left hand he scoops some of the oatmeal up, doing his best to hide his annoyance at how weak his extremities still are. How his hand shakes under the light strain of the oatmeal. He looks up, watches Spencer carry Hank over to the highchair sitting at the table beside him. He’s distracted so Emily swoops in, takes his spoon from his hand, and tries his oatmeal. He lets her do it. He raises an eyebrow and she shrugs. She likes it. He nods, it’s pretty good.

Hank immediately knocks his spoon on the ground and makes a low whining sound in the back of his throat. “Hop help,” he whines, pointing down at his spoon. His speech is still developing so he pronounces help and hop nearly identically but Hotch understands the difference. He just can’t bend over like that. His right arm is still pinned to his chest in an intricate web of gauze and this sling.

“Reid,” Hotch calls. His voice is deep, strained from intubation and anesthesia. It makes him sound sick. “He’s dropped his spoon.”

Reid nods, he already knows.

Hank points to his shoulder and frowns, “Hop fall down?”

Hotch nods, that is pretty much what happened and at the same time, Emily sweeps in and tickles Hank. She presses kisses to his face and making him laugh loudly. “That’s what happens,” she says. “Hops is just old.” Hank is too distracted by the ongoing attack to defend Hotch not that a toddler rising to his defense is very helpful.

Hotch sighs as Jack comes up behind him, stealing his spoon too. He takes a bite of the oatmeal and deems it nearly as good as the kind that Jessica makes. Hotch wants to be annoyed by it and yet all he does is nod and finds himself smirking just a little.

Penelope calls everyone in for breakfast and Hotch ignores the kisses pressed to his cheek as people drag chairs to the table around him. To the hands that slide over his back, assurance of life he remembers Jack calling it.

Derek slides him a mug of tea, made exactly how he likes it. He sits across from Hotch, close to Hank in case either needs assistance. Emily sits to his left, slides her coffee up beside his tea so he can have some if he’s quick about it. Jack sits beside her and the rest is a blur, too much motion at once for him to take in without his contacts or glasses. Penelope slides a tea plate to him, his medicine on it, and kisses his head while he’s still scowling at the plate.

They don’t leave him alone all day.

He ends up taking a nap with Hank, the toddler’s sticky little fingers holding onto his shirt as he finds himself unable to fight off the effects of the medicine and his full stomach.

He’s squished on the couch between Derek and Dave, forced to watch baseball because he can’t worm his way upright again just yet.

They change the dressings on his shoulder, his teeth clenched tightly so that he doesn’t let anything slip.

At midnight he wakes up on the couch. Jack’s bedroom door is shut, he’s sleeping peacefully inside. His heating blanket is pulled up to his chin, the heat turned up all the way. He can’t remember getting into this state himself but he has a fate memory of JJ helping him move his hand to his mouth, encouraging him to take the pain killers before bed. Of Derek making sure he didn’t just fall straight over onto his side. He manages to find Dave stretched out on the Lazyboy -- the chair he got Hotch for his fifty-something birthday. He’ll wake up in the morning to more food being made in his lonely kitchen, JJ this time. She’ll make blueberry waffles.

If he’d wanted attention, Emily will tease the next morning, he could have just asked. And he didn’t even know he wanted this. He never finds the words to ask for it to continue but every Saturday morning it happens anyway -- his kitchen and living room full of pajamas and suits in varying degrees depending on who has what to do that morning. The fainting thing is not cool but he considers this to be a good trade.

[skzsauce01]

God’s Menu

Synopsis: Two chefs face off in the final dessert round. Who will come out on top, and who will be the next Cooking God? Cooking competition AU inspired by Chopped. Possible cooking/baking inaccuracies.

Warning: none

Word Count: 6.6k

Pairing: fem!reader x chef!Felix

“Who will win and become the next Cooking God?”

This is not a laughing matter, but your nerves about the situation think otherwise. The bright lights of the studio kitchen and the multitude of cameras pointed at you make your pulse thrum at an even quicker pace than the last two rounds. With your opponent in front of you and the host right beside you, you grow increasingly on edge. It’s becoming more real by the second — a chance to win ten million won, your dream of opening your own bakery being fulfilled, your future studded with three Michelin stars.

You would say you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at such a wild scenario, but clearly your body has already decided on that.

Since you’ve already bursted out laughing on the last two takes, you can’t exactly do it again. It’s so difficult though. The host Park Jae is chatty and humorous behind the scenes, but the solemn way he delivers the cheesy line is such a big contrast to himself. It doesn’t help that you can see his jaw trembling as he holds back his laughter. It’s almost an invitation.

With the grin on your face barely concealed, you say, “I will.”

In front of you, Chef Lee Felix replies, “Not a chance,” in an extra deep voice, his thick Australian accent shining through, taunting you to give up your cracking charade of calm.

“Chefs, open your baskets.”

“Cut!”

As soon as the clapper is dropped, all three of you let loose into peals of laughter. Jae and Felix clutch onto each other for support, and you grab the nearby edge of the work surface to steady yourself. It’s all so silly. You wonder if Jae is like this on all episodes of God’s Menu or if he simply finds you and Felix especially fun to be around. Felix is a charmer, but you’re not certain if you feel that way because he’s rather attractive, the head chef of the two Michelin star restaurant Levanter, or simply because you feel like your insides have been reduced to cotton candy ever since you stepped inside the studio. Either way, the combination of you, Felix, and Jae has not been easy for the filming crew.

However, as the director calls for you and Felix to head to your stations, you steel yourself for the most important part of the competition. You glance at Felix once more to see how he’s faring, and he mouths, “Good luck,” at you. You smile back and hope that it’s reassuring enough.

“And… action!”

Jae resumes his professional television persona from the far end of the studio where the judges are sitting. “Chefs, open your baskets.”

With unsteady hands, you pull apart the flaps of the giant wicker basket. Then you immediately grimace once you see the four ingredients you have to use in your dessert. Strange foods are part of the competition, but you are always surprised by some of the things the producers put in the basket.

“You have to make a dessert with camel milk…”

You have used cow milk, goat milk, sheep milk, even buffalo milk once, but never camel. Hopefully, it has a similar composition and taste to one of those.

“Rose syrup…”

This is an ingredient you use daily in the upscale restaurant you work at, so you can possibly modify one of your recipes if the other two ingredients aren’t too absurd. Macarons will take too long, so maybe a decadent flourless rose and chocolate cake. You could easily incorporate the camel milk into a dense, fudgy cake.

“Beer flour…”

Never mind on the flourless cake. The cake idea may still be possible, but what on earth is beer flour? If it tastes anything like beer though, you might have to nix the idea altogether.

“And jalapeños.”

They are bright red and thus, extra spicy. Your first instinctive is to candy them and to use them as a garnish on your maybe-cake. The spice would cut through the sweetness and richness of the cake as well.

“Forty minutes on the clock, and your time starts… now!”

Your previous nervousness dissipates completely. Compartmentalizing while cooking, or soon to be baking in this case, has always been a relatively easy feat for you; your mind forgets the rest of the world and refocuses on the task at hand.

While Felix heads straight to the pantry for his additional ingredients, you tear open the package of beer flour with your knife. Unfortunately for you, it smells exactly like old beer, so you forgo your initial idea. You warily eye the clock and calculate the time needed for the plan you have just created. If you’re quick in the kitchen, you could make a good tart. All the basket ingredients can easily be used for one purpose or another.

Yeah, you think you’ll do that.

As you rush to the pantry for some flour, butter, sugar, and vanilla for your shortbread tart crust, Felix walks past you with a sheet of puff pastry and a carton of cream. You wonder what he’s going to do with his repertoire of skills. Hand pies? Strudels? Something completely out of the box?

You push those thoughts out of your head and gather your ingredients for the crust along with the ones for the chocolate cream filling. The cameraman following you takes several steps back as you stack containers in your arms. You press down the topmost one with your chin and carefully balance them as you speed back to your work station. Fortunately, yours is the closest to the pantry.

While the flours, butter, sugar, and vanilla are being combined together in the stand mixer, you begin slicing your jalapeños before candying them in a pan with some sugar. After a moment’s hesitation, you add in a splash of rose syrup as well to further accentuate the flavors in the rose glaze. You hear a crash of metal on your left. Felix has set a pan on his stovetop and is dropping a handful of sliced jalapeños into his pan.

It’s never early too early to start getting your presentation dishes, is it?

You walk past him — “Behind, Chef” — and peer inside to confirm that he is also making candied jalapeños. It’s a little concerning that you and he have similar elements in this round since the judges may deem the idea “uncreative.” If push comes to shove, you can probably transform the peppers into something else, but you have no idea what else to do with them now. Instead, you grab four ceramic tart pans and head back to find that your dough is fully combined.

As you press a layer of the dough into the bottom of your pans, you overhear the panel of judges speculating over your and Felix’s desserts. Park Jihyo, a celebrity chef known for her wide variety of kimchi dishes, points out that both chefs appear to be making candied jalapeños. Jae mentions something about Felix possibly putting it between his puff pastry like a sandwich. Could he be making a dessert sandwich with puff pastry as the bread? You can’t help yourself. A quick glance over at Felix and then upwards towards the wall-mounted clock informs you that he is pouring something into his blender and that you have thirty-three minutes left, neither of which are helpful.

You place the pans on a baking sheet and slide the tray into the oven to bake. You take a sip of the camel milk, which tastes a little nutty and will work nicely in the pastry cream filling. As the milk and heavy cream heats up, you chop a dark chocolate bar to add into the mixture to melt. The main reason why you decided on a chocolate cream filling is because one of the judges, Lee Chaeryeong, is a self-proclaimed chocoholic as well as a renowned chocolatier and baker. If you can impress her with your dessert, everyone will flock to your bakery.

Being the head pastry chef at Hero’s Soup is fun, but to have full creative control and to make whatever you want, is what you truly desire. You have a menu already drawn up, paint colors selected, and even a storefront scoped out. All you need now is a lot of money to get it opened. Chef Lee Felix and his dish are the only thing standing in your way. He may have gotten his start as a pastry chef, but you have spent the last several years being one at a top restaurant. Only one Michelin star, you admit, but you know your work is superb. The critics at Clé magazine said so.

You whisk in the sugar and slowly add your beaten eggs into the chocolate mixture. You don’t want to risk having bits of scrambled egg in the tarts. After you mix it all until it turns smooth, you check your tart crust in the oven. It’s done blind baking, so you take it out to cool before filling it with your filling. In the meantime, you work on the rose flavored cream to be piped on top.

“Behind,” calls Felix.

As you run back to your station with a carton of whipping cream, Felix heads to the ice cream machine with his blender container. He pours his light pink mixture in. Rose ice cream, it seems, will be in his dessert. Rather unhelpfully to you and more for the cameras, Jae announces that Felix’s dish will feature ice cream.

“An ice cream sandwich maybe with the puff pastry he has in the oven?” he adds.

That certainly is a dessert sandwich. You can’t help but look at the judges’ reactions to that suggestion.

Ok Taecyeon, chef and owner of the Japanese restaurant Winter Hitori, seems pleased by that idea. “Or maybe a mille feuille,” he says as he cranes his neck to look at the ingredients at Felix’s station, “with ice cream instead of pastry cream.”

A mille feuille and a tart are pretty different from each other, but you don’t miss your dessert’s similarities to his. Unoriginality aside, this could become a direct comparison of technical abilities. You’re certain you’ve got him beat on that.

You pause on your rose cream to fill your empty tart shells with the chocolate filling. There is an audible gasp from Chaeryeong as she sees the silky smooth texture being poured into each pan. How can you blame her when you yourself are mesmerized by the shine of it?

“Chocolate’s on the menu!” Jae exclaims. “How do you think it will go with all of the mandatory ingredients?”

You suppress a smile at her excitement as she details the finer points of chocolate pairings. Without a doubt, she is the one you must impress. It won’t be an easy feat, but you think she’ll enjoy your dish.

You stick the now filled tart shells back into the oven to bake. Fifteen minutes left, and not only does the filling have to be baked through completely, it has to cool down with adequate time so you can pipe on the cream. The giant bowl of rose cream is completed and set aside.

Now the only thing left for you to finish are your candied jalapeños, which you should have paid more attention to because they are on the verge of being burnt. The sugar and rose syrup have caramelized into a dark brown mess around the edges of the pan, and the red peppers have gone mushy. At that moment, the camera leans in to get a closeup of the disaster and captures you loudly swearing at it.

They can censor that in post-production.

"Behind. All good?" Felix asks as he rushes by with a casserole dish for ice cream collection. You hope his ice cream base didn't work.

"Mostly."

Jae's theatrical whisper and the approved hums from the judges inform you that Felix’s ice cream did turn out beautifully.

"Behind," he says again.

"Heard."

With an exasperated sigh, you set the ruined pan aside and turn back to your cutting board. You had the foresight to not use all of the peppers, but two measly ones are not going to be enough for the amount you want on each tart.

“Hey,” you shout to Felix, hoping that he can hear you over the whir of his food processor, “you have any jalapeños left over?”

He pushes the plastic container with one finger a smidge in your direction as he pulls off the parchment paper over his freshly baked puff pastry. “Take it.”

With a sigh of relief, you walk over to grab them. You expertly chop them into neat slices and throw them into a new pan. A sprinkling of sugar, a circle of rose syrup, and a turn of the stove knob later, the jalapeños are being candied, hopefully properly this time. As you wait, you check your baking tarts. They are still not done yet, which is to be expected but bothersome.

“Ten minutes left on the clock!”

The nervousness is back, and you whisper, “C’mon, c’mon,” at the oven door like it will encourage the tarts to cook faster. After letting yourself stare for a few more seconds because maybe they’ll suddenly be done in that short time, you pop back up to check on your peppers. They, fortunately, are turning out well. You turn down the heat so as to not let the syrup turn into rock candy as you wait for those cursed tarts to be done. Why did you decide on something so risky? Why couldn't you have done a puff pastry crust and not spend ten precious minutes fiddling around with the dough?

Because of the beer flour and because your pride demands that you prove your skills to all the talented chefs, that's why.

Another minute passes, and you drain the pan of the liquid and let the peppers cool down. Felix keeps running back to the pantry for more ingredients, and the judges voice their disapproval at that. You feel a breeze brush across the back of your neck as he dashes back to his station. It’s never a good sign when chefs grab last-minute items; it either means they’re behind schedule, forgot a component of a key element, or about to screw up whatever they have already made in an attempt to fill up time. Or maybe you’re just being cynical. All your nerves are on fire at the moment. Jihyo and Taecyeon soon turn their attention to you when they realize that your tarts are still in the oven.

“You can’t just look at them all day!” Jihyo exclaims at your crouching position.

She’s right, so you make a quick decision: finish these underbaked tarts in the microwave. You flounder for a towel, pull open the oven door, and walk to the microwave as you fast as you can with a tray of steaming hot pans. As all of the tarts are being cooked, you run back to your station to fill a pastry bag of your rose cream. You have six and a half minutes left, and if you’re quick, you can stick the tarts in the blast chiller to cool a little bit. Never mind that putting hot desserts into a freezer is considered blasphemous, you have a competition to win.

The microwave loudly beeps, and you run back to cart them back onto the baking sheet and shove them in the blast chiller. They could still be underdone for all you know, but that’s a risk you have to take. It will still be delicious at least. Felix decides to grab yet another ingredient, and you watch with interest as he selects a bunch of basil. You can’t say whether rose and basil is a good combination, but you trust that he has an idea of what he’s doing. He flashes you a panicked smile as he runs back. It’s the perfect embodiment of your current emotions.

“Less than five minutes, chefs!”

You’re certain the judges mean well when they begin to shout at you about starting on plating, but it only makes you more anxious. You keep watch of the clock, precious seconds disappearing in front of your eyes. Once it hits two minutes, you’ll take them out. Piping pastry cream is so easy, you could do it in your sleep. Garnishing should be simple too. You can do this.

Taecyeon yells, “There’s no time! Get it together!” exactly when there are three minutes left. One more agonizing minute later, you take out the tarts and head back to your station with the same kind of balancing act you performed when you made a mad dash to the microwave. At first glance, it appears the chocolate cream filling has set and cooled, but who really knows? You pick up your pastry bag and start squeezing fat dots in a crescent on the tops of each tart. The pink cream looks beautiful against the dark chocolate.

“Less than thirty seconds remaining!” shouts Jae.

“I can’t watch,” Chaeryeong declares. “Hurry!”

With a slightly shaky hand, you place your candied peppers on each dollop, grimacing when some of them are just the tiniest bit askew. You quite literally have no time to fix them though. A millisecond after you finish setting the last one, Jae calls out for you and Felix to stop cooking. You throw your hands up, showing that you have stopped. Then with a sigh, you grasp the edge of the table and look down at the final desserts. They all look amazing, minus the imperfect pepper placements, on the outside, so you hope that the insides match, no gooey filling in the center. Out of curiosity, you glance over at Felix and catch him eying yours as well. His mille feuilles look stunning — light pink ice cream sandwiched between golden brown puff pastry, topped with a row of pastry cream, red jalapeños, strawberries, and basil so finely chopped, you can barely see it.

You and Felix meet in the middle and nearly collapse on top of each other. He pulls you in more a congratulatory hug, and your unease about your dessert disappears for a second. His hold is strangely comforting considering you have only met him today. You could stay here all day. Then you remember that all of this is being filmed and that you’re hugging Chef Lee Felix, and your pulse jumps.

“We’re done now. Nice job,” he says. He pulls away and observes your frozen expression. “No laughing fits yet?”

A giggle escapes — they’re back and even worse than before, you can already feel it — and you clamp a hand over your mouth, embarrassed. “They’ve just started.”

“Good luck on the judging.”

“Yeah, you too.”

The director yells, “Cut!” and the moment is gone.

You and Felix idle around by the judges’ table as the production crew takes close-ups of the food. Felix easily makes conversation with all of the judges, especially Taecyeon. He smiles at the right parts, adds anecdotes when appropriate, and you wonder how he is so unphased by the dessert round. It’s all you can think about, replaying every single action you made.

“I can’t wait to try that chocolate tart,” Chaeryeong warmly says to you. “It looks amazing.”

Now all you can do is stare at her in disbelief with the silliest grin on your face. Felix gently nudges you to remind you to speak.

“I can’t wait for you to try it,” you hear yourself reply. It’s uncharacteristically high-pitched, and you feel yourself growing hotter despite the lack of harsh studio lights.

“The fourth one is for me, right?” Felix teases. “I want a bite of that too.”

“Only if I get some of your mille feuille,” you say. “It looks amazing.”

“What about me?” protests Jae, making everyone laugh.

Once the close-ups are completed, you and Felix return to your stations and make the dramatic walk to the judges’ table. The lighthearted atmosphere from before is gone, and your nerves are back in a completely different way. The anticipation from the beginning of the round is nothing compared to the fear you feel now. You stand tall with your hands behind you, the perfect picture of confidence, but behind the camera, you are twisting and knitting together your fingers. Felix, on the other hand, is solemn. Lucky him.

“In the dessert round,” Jae recites, “you were tasked to create a dish with camel milk, rose syrup, beer flour, and jalapeños. Chef Felix, what did you make for us today?”

With a steady voice, he answers, “Judges, I have made for you a rose and strawberry ice cream mille feuille topped with a strawberry rose syrup crumble, candied jalapeños, sliced strawberries, and some chopped basil. I hope you enjoy it.”

There’s a pause as the judges cut into the dessert and try it. Like in the previous rounds, their expressions are indecipherable as they chew and deliberate to themselves. Taecyeon is the first to speak.

“First off, your presentation is beautiful. Everything is very neat and precise, which shows your attention to detail. I especially love the basil. Not only does it complement the rest of the dish, it’s a nice addition of color to the plate.”

Chaeryeong nods. “I agree. Strawberry and basil is a classic combination, and I think you balanced those flavors very well. However, neither of those ingredients were in the basket.”

You can almost feel the temperature in the room drop at that revelation.

“Yeah, you definitely focused more on the pantry than the basket ingredients,” Jihyo adds. “Strawberry is the star of this dessert, and I wish you highlighted a basket ingredient instead, especially since you had so many good choices available. And ice cream wise, I think it is too sweet. And I can just barely taste the rose syrup in there.”

“Where is the beer flour in this?” Taecyeon asks as he lifts off the topmost layer of puff pastry. “Is it in the crumble?”

“Yes,” Felix quickly replies. “I didn’t like the flavor of the flour, so I decided it would be best to hide it with the strong syrup flavor.”

“You definitely did that well,” Taecyeon continues. “And your jalapeños are great, help cut through the sweetness of everything.”

It’s clear that there is nothing more to be said. You note that the baker of the trio of the judges said nothing negative about Felix’s dish.

“Thank you, Chef Felix,” Jae concludes. “Chef Y/N, what have you made for us today?”

There’s another cut as the production switches out the half empty plates for your tarts. Sensing your increasing anxiety, Felix reaches over and pats you on the shoulder.

“Good luck,” he whispers. “You got this.”

You can only give him a tentative smile in return before filming resumes. Jae repeats his line to help the transition.

“Judges, I have made for you a chocolate tart with a beer flour crust, rose pastry cream, and candied jalapeños. Please enjoy.”

Chaeryeong is the first to scoop into the tart with her spoon. When the spoon comes out clean and with a pile of solid chocolate tart, you breathe a sigh of relief. She mulls over it as she takes another bite, but Taecyeon already has one ready.

“This is rich and delicious.”

You stop wringing your fingers together. A smile is beginning to form on your face, and it takes some willpower to remain calm.

“I love the way you cut the beer flour with regular flour because let’s be real,” he continues, leaning in conspiratorially, “beer flour tastes pretty awful. I can still get some hints of it, but it’s not overpowering.”

Jihyo nods in agreement. “You have good textures, from the crunchiness of the tart shell to the silkiness of the filling. My only problem with your dessert is that it’s heavy. There’s a lot of chocolate and then you top it off with something pretty sweet. Your candied jalapeños do help, but the ratio of cream to peppers is off.”

Your joy wilts as you take in her comments. As much as you want for her to be wrong, you didn’t get a chance to eat your creation, so you can’t exactly deny it. However, everyone knows that the judge with the weightiest opinion in the dessert round is Chaeryeong. When you look over at her to see what she thinks, she is still picking apart the tart.

Jihyo, situated in between Taecyeon and Chaeryeong, nudges her. “Anything to add, Chaeryeong?”

She looks up at you, and you realize that likely already made a decision on her first bite. Her words are clear and decisive. “I think you made a lot of good choices. Finishing it in the microwave, using dark chocolate, incorporating the rose syrup in the candying process. I do agree with Jihyo that this is a little too rich though. Your rose syrup cream feels unnecessary, but overall, it’s a delicious dessert.”

Your heart is pounding. Everything feels hot, and you are suddenly hyperaware of the cameras around, waiting to capture your reaction. You remember your fiddling fingers and stop moving them.

“Thank you, Chef Y/N,” Jae says. “The judges need some time to deliberate the winner. Remember that the decision will be made on your dishes from all three rounds. Chefs, we will see you after.” He nods at you and Felix, and as per the instructions from the producers, you and Felix walk to the green room.

No other takes are needed. You follow behind Felix, wondering how he is still so poised after all of that. Inside the green room, there is a cameraman waiting, ready to film some commentary from you and Felix. You settle into a stool at the table, and he sits in front of you.

“You did a great job,” he says in an overly produced way. You bet he was rehearsing this. That’s what you should have been doing during his judging. Now your remarks won’t come out as smoothly. “I definitely focused on the pantry too much, but hopefully the other rounds will help me out. The beer flour really confused me.”

You swallow and try to concentrate on him instead of the tabletop. If you don’t get this right, you’ll have to redo it. “Yeah, definitely a tricky ingredient. It was smart of you to use it in your crumble. But yeah, I think we both did pretty good. May the best chef win.” You stick your hand out for him to shake, and he does.

“Cut,” interjects a producer. “Alright, that’s all for that scene. Let’s start on your interviews.”

You nearly forgot about those. You and Felix share glances, both of which are reluctant goodbyes, before being whisked away into separate rooms. As you sit in front of a green screen, you recount what you did in the dessert round, walking the audience through the choices you made and the emotions you felt. There’s a frenetic energy about you this time unlike the previous interviews after the appetizer and entrée rounds. You are so close to the ten million won, you can almost taste it.

Your interview takes almost all of the time. Just as you swallow your last sip of water, the producers are informed that the judges have finished discussing and that you are needed back to the kitchen studio. When you stand up, you nearly knock over the stool you were sitting on. The walk to the studio is longer than it was before, and you want to push the dawdling production crew aside so you can get there faster. Your heart pounds erratically underneath your mask of serenity.

Felix smiles at you from where he stands in front of the judging panel. The signature cloche of God’s Menu sits ominously from its location on the table, two spotlights illuminating its silver shine. Taecyeon, Jihyo, and Chaeryeong are getting last-minute makeup touches, and Jae is idling around, rereading his script even though he has said the lines numerous times before.

“Hey,” you greet Felix as you take your spot beside him. “You nervous?”

“Yeah. It all comes down to this, right? Ten million won and the title of Cooking God.” He says the last part like Jae does, no theatrics spared, and you laugh. It feels good to do so, like a small bit of tension has been released.

Someone adjusts the lights, and suddenly you and Felix are in the dark. Feeling a little courageous, you tell him, “No matter what happens, I just want to say that it’s been an honor competing against you. It’s been a lot of fun, and I think I’ve learned a few things from your cooking.”

“Same here. You’re an awesome chef and an even better person.” The lights shine back on you and Felix, and he sneaks a glance towards you after a producer calls a warning to begin shooting soon. “I’d say ‘good luck,’ but with the way you cook, I don’t think you’ll need it.”

Your face is as hot as an oven. “Thanks. Same to you.”

The clapper goes down. “Action!”

“Chefs,” Jae starts, “the judges have finished deciding. Let’s see who is our next Cooking God and who is getting ousted.”

His hand wraps around the handle of the cloche, and you hold your breath in anticipation. The sound of your pulse in your ears is deafening. You’re not one to wish for someone else’s downfall, but you hope that it’s Felix’s mille feuille underneath. Everything you have worked for today all comes down to this. You can’t lose. You knit and twist your fingers behind your back, and keep your eyes glued to Jae’s hand.

When you see the dish on the table and the judge’s impassive faces, you begin to cry. Your chest tightens, your throat suddenly has a cherry pit lodged inside, and your vision goes blurry. How funny that you start the round with laughter and end in tears. It’s all too poetic for such a moment.

“Chef Felix,” Jae solemnly says, “you have been ousted. Judges?”

You don’t hear what the judges have to say about Felix’s dishes from the past three rounds. All you can focus on is the wood paneling of the judges’ table as you stifle your bubbling sobs. It shouldn’t be too difficult, right? You suppressed all your laughs in the beginning, so this should be easy.

“It was an honor to cook for you today, judges,” Felix says after he has received all of their critiques. He turns to you and wraps in a warm embrace, making your flimsy grasp on your emotions disintegrate. “Congratulations. I knew you would win when I saw your dessert.”

“Thank you so much,” you whisper.

After he heads down the hallway to the green room to film his exit interview, the cameras are back on you and solely you. The judges give you encouraging smiles, Chaeryeong’s the largest.

“Chef Y/N, you are the new Cooking God,” Jae announces. “Congratulations.”

You wipe away your tears with the back of your hand in a vain attempt to make yourself appear more composed. However, when the applause begins, it all comes pouring out — your thanks, your appreciation, your rambles about the bakery you have planned.

“I’ll be sure to come by,” Chaeryeong says. “Your tart was your best dish of the day. If you put it on the menu, I’m definitely going to buy one.”

“Your creativity in all of the rounds was amazing,” Jihyo adds, “but dessert is really where you shine. Give us a call when your bakery is open.”

Taecyeon compliments your appetizer and also agrees with the other two. “Chef, you should be proud of yourself.”

You beam through your tears. For a momentous occasion, you half expect confetti to start raining down and a symphony to start playing. However, there is only production orchestrating a few more shots of you shaking hands with everyone and a closeup of your face. The small celebratory scene is over soon as you are led to another room for your victory interview. This one is easy, simply you expressing your joy and partially promoting your future business.

When you’re done, you are told to wait in the green room while they set up some paperwork for you to fill out later. To your surprise, Felix is there as well, sitting at the table with a tired look on his face. His water bottle is empty, and there is an unopened one next to it. When he sees that you are there, he lights up.

“Hey there, Cooking God,” he says. “Congrats again.”

“Hey. Thanks again.” You sit across from him and slump against the table. “I thought you would have left already.”

“I’ve got some paperwork to do and one more interview to finish up. You know,” he says, propping himself up on his arms, leaning forward, “I never got to try your tart. I was really looking forward to it.”

You can see yourself reflected in his eyes. He has very pretty eyes. “I never got to try your mille feuille either. Do you think production will be mad if we sneak back in and eat the leftovers?”

“We might have to dig through the trash, but I’m down.” He pulls back. “What are you going to do with the prize money, if you don’t mind me asking? I don’t think Jae asked you about it during the judging.”

So you tell him all about it. You tell him of the empty building on the corner of the street you have been eying for the last year, the late night hours you have spent experimenting with recipes, the white banner and silver ribbons you have envisioned for the grand opening of your dream. He listens intently, nodding along and cracking smiles when you draw the details in the air.

“Wow, you’ve got it all figured out already.”

“Yeah,” you agree, feeling flushed and breathless. “It’s been a long time coming.”

There’s a knock on the door, and a member of the production team pokes his head in. “Chef Lee Felix, we’re ready to shoot the interview now.”

Felix nods and stands up from his stool, taking the both water bottles with him. “I guess this is goodbye then. Good luck with everything.”

“What’s your number?” you blurt out before the nervous laughter starts up again. You just finished one of the most grueling cooking competitions in the country; asking someone for their number should be a cakewalk, but said someone also happens to be a highly esteemed chef. “I’d love for you to be at the grand opening.”

His mouth splits into a grin. He tears the label off of the empty bottle and asks the staff member if he has a pen. Then he scrawls down the digits and hands you the label, the fresh ink against the glossy paper shining underneath the lights.

“See you during the opening,” are his last words to you before he follows production out of the room.

You clutch the edge of the label and mouth the numbers to yourself, trying to commit them to memory. A needless action, but it feels right.

When you are called for paperwork and logistics, you carefully fold the paper and place it inside your chef jacket’s pocket, right by your heart. The check for eight million won — taxes unfortunately exist for prize money — goes in there as well.

The grand opening is a grand affair: customers flocking to the street corner in droves, a giant banner and even a red ribbon celebrating the occasion, and display cases being emptied throughout the day. As promised, Chaeryeong and Jihyo show up to the opening. The day is nearly over when they arrive; only a few people linger around, buying last-minute treats. You decide to close for the night.

Even though the two celebrity chefs say they have finished filming a new episode, they are both in high spirits. They bring along a plaque for you to hang that reads “God’s Menu Approved,” and you are both mortified and thrilled. Chaeryeong wants you to put the plaque in the window, but Jihyo insists you have it behind the counter. However, you don’t really want it in either location. Your office seems like a wonderful place.

“How about a tart?” you ask to distract them. “On the house, of course.”

They nod enthusiastically at the offer, and you set down two familiar-looking ones. “As seen on God’s Menu, the Dessert Round Tart, chocolate with rose-flavored cream and candied jalapeños.”

The bell on the door chimes, and a voice you have not heard in months says, “Any left for me?”

“Felix!” you exclaim, rushing to him. He’s still in his chef’s uniform, and you can almost smell sriracha on him. “How are you here? I thought you said you had a shift.”

He shrugs and smiles boyishly at you. It makes you all sorts of nervous, and your stomach flutters with something that is not laughter. “Surprise!”

“Let me go get you a tart,” you say as you lead him to the same table as Chaeryeong and Jihyo, both who recognize Felix from the show.

You head behind the counter and reach for the last tart left in your hidden stash of desserts. You saved three for the judges, but Taecyeon isn’t here. He is apparently in the midst of opening a new location, and you understand. After all, you’re doing something similar. It all works out in your favor though since Felix is. With more care than the previous two, you place the tart on a small plate and set it down in front of Felix.

“Here you go. Enjoy.”

He cuts into it with the fork and savors the first bite. “It’s even better than I thought it would be. This is amazing.”

“Definitely agree,” says Jihyo. Hers is completely gone, only the smallest crumbs left. “You’ve really refined it.”

Chaeryeong, mouth full of chocolate, can only nod in agreement. You smile, flattered by their compliments. After some pushing from the trio, you sit down with them to eat the leftover desserts from the day and to catch up. Chaeryeong and Jihyo are predictably busy with the filming of God’s Menu and overseeing their respective establishments. Meanwhile, Felix is still head chef of Levanter and has been tasked with adding something new to their menu. You tell them all about the beginning of the day and how a dog almost tore apart the low-hanging streamers outside. Felix sympathetically pats your hand. You then join in on the laughter, yours of which is more induced by his touch than the memory of the dog.

Some time later, Chaeryeong announces that she has to go, and Jihyo follows. You send them off with some lemongrass cupcakes and lie about where you will be displaying the plaque. No matter what, it’s going in your office where only you can see it. Felix stays around, and with everyone else gone, it’s just you and him.

“Hi,” you say, suddenly feeling shy. “You’re not leaving yet?”

He shakes his head. “I wanted to ask you something."

"Oh, what is it?"

"Since you still haven’t tried my mille feuille from the show and since Levanter needs a new menu item, would you want to help me sometime?” He pauses and grimaces at his words. “Wait, you’re probably busy with your bakery now and—”

“I’d love to,” you abruptly say. “Probably only taste testing though, if that’s alright. Business conflicts and all.”

Your favorite thing about Felix, you decide, is the way he lights up, the way the excitement emitting from him is palpable. With a tinge of red across his cheeks, he says, “I guess we’ll be seeing a lot of each other soon.”

You let out a short laugh. “I guess we will. I’m alright with that.”

“So am I.”

~ ad.gray

[salchat]

Someone Furry

Rodney missed his cat.  He missed the way she’d jump up onto his lap and drape herself over his legs, her soft, heavy weight warming him from inside and out.  He missed the feel of her fur between his fingers, the way he could run his hand the whole length of her body from her nose, over her flattened ears, down her soft sides and then, his hand closed to surround it, all the way to the tip of her tail.  He missed her deep, thrumming purr, the chirps and brips she made in response to his voice, so that they often had far more sensible conversations than he ever did with his colleagues.

But most of all he missed her simple presence, her neutral acceptance of everything he did, everything he was; her wide golden eyes that regarded him, not with contempt as some people interpreted the penetrating gaze of a cat, but with all-seeing, all-knowing recognition of him as belonging absolutely and completely to her.

He’d left her.  Of course he’d left her on Earth.  He’d had to.  And he’d known he’d probably never see her again and it had torn a hole in his heart that he didn’t think was ever likely to heal.  Had her feline heart suffered similar damage?  Or did she regard her new owner with that wide-eyed gaze and then jump up onto their lap and present herself for their attention in the way he missed so much?  Probably.  Cats were pragmatists.  It was a fact of life.

Rodney eased out his back and spun around on his stool, unsurprised to find the lab empty.  He stretched up to peer over the top of Radek’s screen, but there were no tufts of wild hair or glinting rims of glasses or exhausted, propped-open eyes.  And no wonder - it was nearly three in the morning.

He yawned, scratched his head, scratched his stomach and then, because there was no one about, he reached up under his shirt and had a general scratch around, chasing an itch that ran from his questing fingers.  He ran it to ground on his right shoulder blade, his left shoulder cracking as he reached behind himself to wipe the itch out of existence with sweeps of his thumb.  Then he stretched himself out again and adjusted his shirt into some kind of order.

Was Sheppard back yet?  No,  He couldn’t be.  It was more than the Gate techs’ lives were worth not to inform him immediately of any updates in John’s status, when he’d given them such very firm, explicit instructions.  Anyway, there was no need to worry, he told himself - again.  John was out doing good works, overseeing both Lorne’s team and Stackhouse’s team while they helped out a village hit by a mudslide.  And what the inhabitants of the Pegasus Galaxy had done before Intergalactic Rescue had shown up Rodney had no idea, but he thought just occasionally they should go back to doing whatever it was they had done before and leave Atlantis out of it, and especially an over-tired, mission-weary, easily-guilt-tripped-into-doing-whatever-you-want John Sheppard.

“They’re our allies, Rodney - they help us, we help them.”

Huh.  Rodney spent a satisfying ten minutes grumbling aloud to himself about a bunch of rustics who’d never have anything useful to contribute apart from a few inferior, knobbly vegetables that tasted of mouldy turnip, so why should John have to bother helping them?  Of course, Rodney had found the problem in their Ancient aqueduct system.  And there’d been that kid who kept hanging around him and calling him Dr Rodanee-sir and bringing him cups of the local drink which tasted remarkably like chocolate milkshake.  But those things were beside the point.  And John had flat-out denied Rodney’s request to go on the rescue mission.

Anyway, he was tired and he missed his cat.  Because sometimes you just needed someone furry, and that was all there was to it.

He went to bed.

In the morning Sheppard still wasn’t back and everyone in the lab was being more than usually stupid and noisy and so wrong that he had to make them all stop what they were doing so that he could enumerate and elaborate on all the ways in which they were wrong, providing each member of his staff with a detailed verbal list that they should damn well take notes on for future reference.  And yes, he would be testing them on their knowledge of their own wrongness at an unspecified future date.

Then Stackhouse’s team came back, exhausted and covered in mud.  Then Lorne’s team, ditto.  Then (and Rodney thought there might be dents in the Gateroom railing from his clenched hands), finally, Sheppard staggered through the Gate, more exhausted and more covered in mud than any of them.

John looked up at Rodney and Rodney looked down at John.  His muddy right hand twitched in what was probably an attempt at a wave conveying his general fineness and that nobody should worry or fuss or do anything that expressed the remotest kind of concern.  It was a pathetic attempt and merely underlined his not fineness and that everyone and most particularly Rodney, should definitely be concerned.

Rodney found himself at John’s side, unsure how he’d transported himself down from the control level - a giant leap over the crushed railing?  Levitation?

Medical staff harried the muddy men and women away, and Rodney followed, at John’s side, not touching him, because… ew.  There wasn’t a square inch of unmuddied skin.  Even John’s eyes were red, as if they’d got mud in too.  And his hair was just unnatural - plastered to his head, showing the actual shape of his skull, which you just never saw, even when he was straight out of the shower because mere water was nothing against the springiness of John Sheppard’s hair.  A couple of times Rodney looked around in case he was shadowing the wrong mud-monster, but no, this brown figure was definitely the right shape and size and seemed to have that slouchy gait, even though its feet were dragging and its arms dangling in abject weariness.

They wouldn’t let Rodney in the infirmary.  And it was Rodney who’d helped install the roomful of showers for just such an occasion as this, when filthy, exhausted teams came back, probably contaminated with all kinds of viruses and parasites, germs and bacteria and no doubt hiding injuries beneath their assorted filth.

So he sat down and waited.  And no, it wasn’t the same as waiting for news when John had been carried to the infirmary, injured and unable to make it under his own steam.  It wasn’t as if Rodney was waiting, terrified, for life-or-death news, biting his nails and chewing the inside of his cheek until it bled.

But he really missed his cat.  And he’d had a bad day - a bad few days.  Which surely must be all John’s fault, because most things were, or at least they were his absence’s fault because you just needed someone like John around all the time for some reason.  Look, he wasn’t going to analyse it, alright?  It was a fact.  And Rodney missed his cat.

And probably Carson would want to keep John here - for observation.  Rodney snorted, spraying bits of chewed up nail onto the floor.  If John needed observing he’d do it - because who better to observe than a scientist?  Observing was what he did.  He’d watch John like a hawk, he’d take notes and draw diagrams, he’d gather data, both quantitative and qualitative, he’d hypothesise and extrapolate.  What more could any medical so-called professional do?

“Yes, you can go.”  The doctor’s long suffering voice followed a round-shouldered scrub-clad figure through the barely slid-open doors.

“Hey, Rodney.”

Rodney stood up, beginning his scrutiny right here and now.  “Your eyes are red.  You need antibiotic drops.”

“Had them.”

“Has that scrape on your face been disinfected?”

“Yeah.”

“The bandage on your wrist - what’s that hiding?”

“t’s just sprained.  Can we get out of here?”

Rodney folded his arms and conveyed through his most steely glare that John had better not try to hide even the most minor of injuries from him or he’d been in a whole shit-tonne of trouble which would make a mudslide look like that time some idiot had knocked over Rodney’s chocolate pudding.

“You’re coming with me.”

He took John’s arm, because there was no way he was allowing a rudderless John Sheppard to drift away from him.  The exhausted man didn’t wriggle away or even protest, which made Rodney grumble angrily under his breath about societies that couldn’t clear up after their own natural disasters and just had to go and impose themselves upon overworked Colonels.

They made it to his room and he let John slither onto the bed and stacked up the pillows around him until he was approximately upright with most of his limbs on the bed.

“This is your room, Rodney.”

“Yes.  It is.  And you’re in it.”

“’kay.”

“Humph.”  Rodney nodded, glad John had accepted his to-be-pushed-around status.  “First you’re going to eat.  And then you’re going to sleep.”

“Yessir,” slurred John.

Rodney boiled some water and made some instant mashed potato, which was one of his preferred food choices in cases of extreme exhaustion.  It was the cheesy mash type, which was his covetously-hoarded favourite, but John looked like a man in great need of a large bowl of cheesy mash.  With a blob of ketchup on top.  Maybe more than one blob.

John smiled a sleepy smile at the ketchup blobs, which may have formed a crude happy face, but that was, of course, a complete accident on Rodney’s part.  The mash was mechanically consumed.  Rodney took the bowl and then pushed a glass into John’s hand, making sure his scraped knuckles curled around it.  The glass contained chocolate milkshake, but only because he’d been thinking today about that stuff they made on the mudslide planet.  He hadn’t gone out of his way to get the powder or the milk.  And absolutely no begging had been involved at the entrance to the hallowed, jealously guarded territory of the kitchen staff.

He sat down next to John, glad that he hadn’t been stupid enough to take his friend back to his own room with its tiny bed.  This way he too could sit propped up by a bank of pillows, which were necessary to support his back while he carried out his purely clinical observations of his team leader.

John drained the glass and he was too tired and too oblivious to wipe away his milkshake moustache, so Rodney did it for him.

Then John smiled another lop-sided sleepy smile, his eyelids drooped and shut down completely and his slumped body slumped even more, slowly slithering down until his head rested in Rodney’s lap.

Rodney missed his cat.  He missed the way she’d jump up onto his lap and drape herself over his legs, her soft, heavy weight warming him from inside and out.  He missed the feel of her fur between his fingers, the way he could run his hand the whole length of her body from her nose, over her flattened ears, down her soft sides and then, his hand closed to surround it, all the way to the tip of her tail.  He missed her deep, thrumming purr, the chirps and brips she made in response to his voice, so that they often had far more sensible conversations than he ever did with his colleagues.

But Rodney had his friend.  He had John, who had fallen asleep on him, his head heavy on Rodney’s thighs, his newly-washed hair fluffy and thick and dark.  He touched the soft strands and they tickled his palm.  Then he ran his hand over and through the dense thicket, from John’s forehead, curving all the way around his head to the nape of his neck where the hairs were short and usually they looked scratchy, but at the moment they too felt soft and fine.  He lifted his hand and stroked again, the hair running through his fingers, dragging and flattening, then freeing itself to spring up into feathery plumes.  Then once again and again, slowly, gently, with a rhythm of love and peace.

And in Rodney’s chest a knot released and something warm and sweet and caramelly-rich blossomed and spread out until his body was as loose and relaxed as John’s.

He missed his cat.  But he had his friend, who he loved and who loved him in return.  And as Rodney stroked and stroked and watched John’s slow, happy rise and fall of deep-sleep breathing, the exhausted man began to snore, in a gentle, thrumming, rumble, which sounded remarkably like a purr.

[navegandoaciegas]

Little doll

Pairing: dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: stockholm syndrome, manipulation, controlling!Bucky, unhealthy relationship, mentions of violence in the past (no graphic description), smut, vaginal sex, oral sex (both male and female receiving), vaginal and anal fingering, slight praise kink.

Summary: You used to be a strong-willed independent woman, but after a whole lot of training, you’ve finally become Bucky’s perfect little doll for him to own, love and take care of. 

A/N: I had this idea in mind today and wrote this in a couple of hours for @jtargaryen18​ ‘s 4k writing challenge. Congrats! I hope it’s decent lmfao 

There is no graphic violence or non-con in this story, but it’s stated/hinted pretty heavily that these things did happen in the past. Reader has no physical description. 18+ only. English is my third language so sorry for any mistakes.

7.09 am

There’s a pulsing ache between your legs and a hot breath fanning over your neck that sends tingles down your spine.

“Baby?” you mumble in a daze, still half asleep, moaning and clutching the sheets when you feel a finger tease your entrance.  

“‘Morning, sleepyhead.” Bucky murmurs, peppering your cheeks with small kisses. 

You can’t fight back the smile that spreads on your face and you slowly pry your eyes open, finding your husband already looking at you in adoration. He lets his lips move downwards, nipping the skin of your throat and sucking little bruises there. A moan escapes you when the hand that was kneading your breasts pinches one of your nipples while his fingers keep sliding in and out of your pussy, sending jolts of pleasure all over your body.

You’re burning up, feeling a familiar pressure build up in your core already. You’ve been together for years, but you’ll never get over how good he is at this.  

His hands are everywhere and nowhere at the same time. The hair on his chest and lower abdomen rubs on your sensitive skin, and you can’t get enough of all this. You never will. 

His name is on your lips like a prayer as you beg him for more, for that sweet release only he can give you. He complies, spreading your legs and settling between them. He trails open mouthed kisses down your body, slowly bringing his face to your awaiting cunt. The anticipation of what he’ll do to you is killing you slowly. He licks a strip of your dripping pussy and dips his tongue in your folds, pushing as far as he can go.

“So sweet.” 

He groans against you when you grab a fistful of his long hair and the vibration goes straight to your core, making the knot inside you tighter. You grind your hips against his face, fucking yourself with his mouth and crying out loud in pleasure. 

“So wet, so needy, all for me.”

He draws circles on your swollen clit and crooks a couple of fingers inside of you, hitting that sweet spot that makes your toes curl and your back arch even more. 

You’re writhing underneath him, desperate for a release.

“Please, faster.” you moan, bucking your hips wildly.

“Beg for it.” he demands, jerking four fingers inside of you.

His bruising touch, the vibration inside your cunt, his soft kisses. It’s all too much and still not enough.

“Please Bucky, please let me cum all over your face, please, please, I’ll be good for you.” you beg like the cockslut you are.

He sucks hard on your clit, and that’s all it takes to tip you over the edge, body shaking uncontrollably and vision going white. .

You’re spent, panting on the bed and feeling the familiar burn that his beard leaves behind on the soft skin of your inner thighs. Your walls flutter around nothing, and somehow you want more.

“Such a good girl for me.” He looks at you through half lidded eyes, lips red and swollen, face covered in your slick. You taste yourself on his tongue when he dips down and slants his mouth against yours, reigniting the fire inside of you.

“Do you want me to fuck you? Do you want to come again, all over my cock? Yes?”

You whine, feeling yourself grow hotter than before. “Yes, please, fuck me.”

He thrusts inside you, slowly at first, faster once he can sheathe himself fully without feeling any pain. You’re still sore from yesterday, but the familiar stretch of his thick cock is so good that you ignore the burn. You only feel him and the pleasure he’s giving you.

“So perfect, made for me, my sweet girl.” he grunts in your ear, and the praise sends jolts of electricity directly to your cunt.

Your hands are roaming over his hard muscles and your walls are clenching down on his cock, impatient for another orgasm to wreck you.

The room is filled with the lewd sounds of him fucking you, his balls hitting your ass, the squelch of your arousal, and he’s so vocal with his moans and grunts that you could come hard just listening to him.

His pace is more frantic than before. Your walls are milking him as he pounds into you relentlessly. Just when you thought you couldn’t feel more pleasure, Bucky dips his hand behind you, fingers covered in your slick teasing your back entrance and pushing inside you, finding no resistance in your relaxed state. His pubic bone hits your clit repeatedly and you’re so full of his cock and fingers and him that you see stars.

“Cum pretty girl, cum all over my cock. Show me how good you are.”

He snaps his hips harder against you and you cry out when the pressure in your core releases, jolts of pleasure shooting from your cunt to the rest of your body, vision going blank. 

He swallows your cries with his mouth, and the feeling of you clenching around him is enough to send him over the edge too. His thrusts become sloppier and he cums hard, holding onto your waist with a bruising grip and biting down on your bottom lip.

He collapses on top of you, and you relish in the feeling of his hot release filling you up.

“Love you.” he mumbles, caressing your cheeks.

“Love you more.” you whisper with a smile, scratching his scalp the way that makes him purr like a cat.

You stay impossibly close for what feels like hours, Bucky still inside you, encompassing your whole body, until the alarm clock goes off and he lifts himself up with a grunt. He stares in fascination as his cum slowly drips out of your cunt and onto the sheets.

“Don’t wanna go to work today, doll.” he whines, clinging onto you again and pouting like a child, “Wanna stay in bed with you.”

You chuckle, because he’s always so needy in the morning, and push him off you.

“We’ll stay like this all weekend, I promise. Now go get ready.”

-

The smell of freshly brewed coffee invades the kitchen and your senses. You love the fragrance, even though you aren’t allowed to drink it. Bucky says it’s bad for a dainty doll like you. You remember you used to be addicted to caffeine before; it was the only thing that kept you going during your long, strenuous shifts at the hospital you worked at as a nurse. Bucky provides for you now, so you don’t have to worry about that exhaustion anymore.

You drink loose leaf herbal tea these days.

You smile when a ray of light shining through the window hits the diamond ring on your fourth finger, projecting a kaleidoscope of colors on the walls. The eggs are sizzling in the pan, the bread slices are toasting in the oven and you can hear the faint noise of Bucky taking a shower.

You arrange the table the way he likes it: buttered toast and scrambled eggs on a plate, yoghurt and cut up fruit in a little stained glass container, a steaming mug of coffee, a tall glass of ice cold water and fresh flowers in a vase; the paper towel goes to the right side of the plate, with a fork and a knife with the sharp side that faces left on top of it. You nod in satisfaction at the spread and remove the strainer from your teacup.

Bucky greets you with a peck on the lips and a bright smile. He pulls the chair back for you, ever the gentleman, and sits on the other one, “Any plans for today?”

“The usual, y’know. I may go for a walk at the park, if that’s okay with you?” you hesitate on the last part, giving him a hopeful smile. You love to collect the wildflowers in the meadow and feed the ducks at the pond. Plus, walking is good for your health, and Bucky has you exercise at least once a day anyways.

“Of course you can, princess. Do you have enough birdseed or do you need more?” he asks, chewing a mouthful of eggs and toast, “I’ll give you extra money if you want to get it.”

You’re grateful he agreed. Truth be told, he hardly ever denies you anything now that you’ve learnt to behave. “Thanks, but it should be enough to last me another week, I think. Is Steve coming for dinner tonight?”

He shakes his head and sips on the coffee you made him, just the way he likes it: two sugars, one splash of full fat milk, a sprinkle of chocolate powder. “No, I think the punk’s staying home with Sharon tonight, ‘member her?”

You nod. You do remember Sharon. They’ve been dating for a while. She is a nurse like you used to be. Would Steve make her keep the job? 

Bucky doesn’t seem to notice your pensive mood and checks his phone as he finishes the last of his strawberries. “God, it’s 8.35 already. I gotta hurry sweetheart, don’t want to be late again like yesterday.” he says with a mischievous smirk.

You feel warmth creep up your face at the memory of the reason why he was late, and you clench your thighs shut as you recall the image of you bent over this same table you’re at and him pounding into you from behind. He wouldn’t leave unless he gave you one more, and then another, until you were shaking and crying in pleasure. 

You both get up. He grabs his jacket and backpack, you hand him the lunch you’ve packed for him. He pulls you in for a sweet kiss, holding you by the waist. You taste the coffee lingering on his tongue and it reminds you of another life.  

He pulls away and nuzzles your hair, hugging you tightly. “I’ll miss you.” He mumbles in your ear, inhaling the calming scent of the lavender shampoo he’s chosen for you.

“I’ll miss you more. Have a good day at work.”

“Thank you, have fun at the park. Behave.”

You wave him goodbye from the front porch and stand there until his sleek black car disappears in the distance. You sigh, missing him already, and get inside, ready to start your day.

-

9.00 am

Bucky is a business manager at Stark’s IT company and his job is a 9-5, Monday to Friday, which means every week day you start your chores after he leaves.

He likes the house spotless and you never want to disappoint him. You shudder at the thought of what happens when you do. Thankfully, it hasn’t occurred in a while. Only bad girls get punished, and you hate punishments too much to be one.

You start downstairs: you open all the windows to let the fresh morning air inside and get to work. You vacuum and mop the floors, disinfect the kitchen counter and empty the dishwasher, sanitize every surface in the bathroom until it’s squeaky clean and smells like Bucky’s favorite lemon scented detergent. Then you move upstairs: you wipe down all the furniture, scrub the ensuite, change the soiled sheets and sort through the hamper, separating whites and colored.

You hum as you work, proud of yourself because you’ve perfected the cleaning routine in your time with your husband, so now it only takes you an hour and a half now to do the entire house.

You grab the basket of dirty linen and clothes and head downstairs to do the chore you hate the most: laundry. The basement where the washer and dryer are makes you quiver in fear when you think of it, but you haven’t found the courage to ask Bucky to move the appliances upstairs yet. Sometimes you still have nightmares about your time there, and Bucky has to hold you and rock you all night to calm you down.

It’s where you spent the first six months after he took you, locked up all alone. He’d visit you every night, but you didn’t appreciate that. You feel guilty now for all those times you fought him, especially the one time you managed to break his nose with your elbow and sprinted upstairs. He caught you just one step before the front door. God, you were so stupid. You’re lucky he got to you in time. What would a girl like you do without a man like him?

As punishment, you spent a week locked in a wardrobe, with no food and barely enough water to survive. You stopped fighting after that, and when he got you out you sobbed on his shoulder and let him hold you and bathe you. You slept in his bed that night, and all the nights that followed in these 3 years. 

Bucky never meant to hurt you, only take care of you, but you were too stupid to understand that back then. You understand now.

-

12.55 pm

It’s a beautiful spring day, the sun is bright and there’s a light breeze blowing from west. 

You think of how you weren’t allowed to leave the house until a year and half ago. You missed the outdoors. But Bucky is a fair man and he lets you go wherever you want now that he can trust you. He even takes you on weekend trips wherever you desire. Maybe if you’re good enough, one day he’ll buy you a car, so you won’t have to walk everywhere.

You still have a tracker implanted in your forearm, but that’s for your own safety.

You spread a blanket underneath your favorite tree; from your position you can see both the water and the meadow, and that lovely wooden bridge over the pond too. 

You’re basking in the sun as you reflect on all the new hobbies you’ve picked up now that you don’t have to spend the better part of your days in a hospital.

You embroider, you try out new recipes, you read, you do yoga, you paint and draw, you collect flowers and leaves and you dry them up in your botanical journal. You’ve become quite good at taking care of the garden in these past few months, and the roses you’ve planted are growing nice and strong. Sometimes you go for a swim in the ocean, some others you go shopping. The house is entirely decorated in your paintings, and you often give them to Bucky’s friends and family too.

You don’t have friends or family anymore. You only have Bucky.

You never thought you would enjoy these activities so much, just like you never thought you could be so free. Of your job, of so much pain and sorrow, of the hardship that comes with free will, of the choices you make that weigh you down until you can’t sleep anymore.

Who knew having your freedom taken away would be so liberating. Not you. 

You have Bucky to thank for that. He always knows what’s best for you.

-

5.29 pm

Bucky’s been thinking about you all day and as soon as he’s clocked out, he couldn’t come back home fast enough. He smiles when the front door opens and he’s hit by the smell of freshly baked cookies. You really spoil him too much.

You run into his arms as soon as you realize he’s back, hugging him tightly, mumbling about how much you’ve missed him.

You’ve made dinner for him, just like he expects of you. Homemade basil pesto pasta, grilled salmon, oven roasted vegetables, white wine for him, tonic water for you because alcohol is bad for little dolls, white chocolate chip cookies for dessert.

You chat about your days over food, and when you’re both done you clean up while he changes into more comfortable clothes.

He has a reward for you, since you’ve been so good lately, but he wants you to earn it.

“On your knees.” he commands, and like the perfect doll you are, you comply.

You look up at him with your innocent doe eyes and Bucky knows he could come at the sight of you so beautiful, so obedient alone. His hands work swiftly as he pulls down his sweats and gets his already hard cock out. 

“I want to fuck your mouth.” he says, tracing your lips with his red tip, “Open up, doll.”

You do as he says. You take him in your mouth and his eyes instinctively roll back at the feeling of your wet tongue licking a strip from base to tip; your cheeks hollow around him, sucking him off, one hand pumping his length and the other massaging his balls.

He aches for more, so he grabs a fistful of your hair in what is probably a painful grip, judging from the way you gasp, and he takes that as an opportunity to slant himself inside your mouth until he hits the back of your throat. He shoves himself deeper and deeper until you can't breathe, your face is red and your eyes full of tears. You steady yourself holding onto his thick thigs as he keeps fucking your mouth harder, balls slapping your chin.

Saliva is dripping down on your face as you’re choking on his cock, and those gagging noise you make vibrate against him, making this all the more pleasurable. He knows you won’t complain anyways, no matter how much he abuses your mouth or your cunt.

He knows you’ll always comply. He’s made sure of that.

With a last thrust in your mouth he pulls out just in time to paint your face with his hot spurt. You look perfect with tears streaming down your cheeks and his cum all over you.

“You did so good princess.” he praises you, and you smile up at him, “Go get cleaned up now, we’re watching a movie. You choose.”

You beam, and he knows you’ll choose one of those Disney movies you like so much.

Good girls always get a prize.

-

11.00 pm is your bedtime. Little dolls need their 8 hours of sleep.

You’re already fast asleep, and Bucky looks in complete devotion and adoration at your form. You’re so pretty, so perfect, so completely his.

You’ve been so good lately that he hasn’t had to punish or discipline you in more than six months.

You’re no longer the stubborn woman you used to be, the one that broke his nose and resisted all he’s put you through for months. You’re finally a little doll for him to own, love and care for. His little doll to dress up and play with. He’s especially happy tonight, because he knows you’ll love the reward for being so good this time. 

It’s only taken Steve two years, because Sharon wasn’t as strong as you, but he’s done now.

Bucky knows how lonely you can get. Tomorrow you too will have a friend, another little obedient doll like you to play with.

-

read my other dark!bucky fic here

I hope you liked this! If you did, please reblog and let me know what you thought of it. 🥺

[svnaslove]

✰ pinky promise

summary: pinky promises with Daichi and Tsukishima

genre: fluff

characters: Daichi Sawamura, Tsukishima Kei

warnings: a lil angsty? but it’s okay, it has a fluffy resolve, daichi prompt; [sugar impulse, light hearted], tsukishima prompt; [touch starved, PMSing]

Tsukishima Kei |  月島 | boyfriend

Tsukishima was not the biggest fan of PDA, you probably knew that even before you started dating him. You didn’t mind it at all, as long as it wasn’t anything too far, but the farthest your boyfriend would go with PDA was to just hold your hand and you were okay with that. But not today, today you were touch starved.

It was lunch time and you usually sat with Tsukishima and a few of his volleyball teammates at the circular table just outside of the cafeteria, for now it was just you and him as you two waited for the rest of the table to come.

“Keeiii” you whined, trying to set your head on Tsukishima’s shoulder.

“What are you doing?” he asked dodging your head.

“I missed you all day and I just want to be with you” you pouted, a little upset that he just dodged you like that and the look on his face when he did.

“yeah, but now right in front of everyone” he whispered, a little harshly into your ear.

His words kind of hurt you a little, you just wanted to be close to him, it probably didn’t help either that you were PMSing and you’re hormones were all out of wack.

“I-Im sorry I embarrass you Kei” you pouted letting go of his hand and looking down to your fingers.

Tsukishima’s attitude completely transformed upon seeing that he made you upset, “you don’t embarrass me, why would you say that?”

“because...you just.. never want to be with me in front of everyone, and that’s okay but i just need you right now, and it doesn’t help when you get mean about it, I’m sorry” you admitted, a small tear starting to form.

“hey,” he said, more delicately this time, his hand reached for your chin and brought your head up to his.

This in itself was already a big move for him in public, but there were only a few people around since you two had gotten to the table early.

“that’s not true, it’s just that-” he started, his words getting caught on his throat as he watched your tear fall down your cheek.

“i just, im just not super comfortable with doing more then hand-holding, you know that, and it’s not because i don’t love you that i don’t hold you i just...”

Tsukishima took a deep breath before continuing, “I just don’t know how to be, you make me blush alot and I don’t know what to do.” You looked up again at your boyfriends eyes to see that he seemed embarrassed to admit that, his gaze slightly fluttering to the ground, but even more so, you were shocked at how Tsukishima just opened up to you.

“really?” you ask, watching his expression as he tries to push down his blush.

“really.” he nodded his head, trying to move his eyes back to yours.

“I know, how about as soon as school ends, you come over and we can cuddle, does that sound good?” he suggested.

“pinky promise?” you asked, already getting excited for the events, your heart becoming warmer at how soft your boyfriend could be.

“pinky promise.” Tsukishima called, holding out his pinky and intertwining it with yours and then pulling you a little close and giving you a quick peck on your forehead.

Daichi Sawamura |  大地 | boyfriend

“oh come on Daichiii, don’t be a draggg” you whined.

“y/n, i already told you to drop it, we agreed on this together” Daichi replied, drawing an imaginary circle connecting you two at the emphasis of the word ‘together.’

“i knooowww but i can’t go on much longgerrr,” you continued. “i can’t just eat fruits and veggies for a whole week, just a little itsy bitsy tinnie winnie little chocolate bar?” you pleaded with puppy dog eyes.

Daichi shot you a glare that was meant to be jokingly intimidating, “i thought you were the one that brought this idea in the first place?” he teased, “you can’t even hold up to that?”

You pouted as you recalled 3 days ago when you brought up the idea to your boyfriend for the two of you to eat as healthy as possible before Daichi’s tournament, one, because it’s just good for you, and two, if you two did it together you could stop each other from your impulses, but so far you were ready to give up, already missing the sweet taste of sugar.

Daichi looked at you pouting and literally broke and his gaze softened, he sighed, “fine, but just one bar, and no more sugar until we finished our week since were supposed to be ‘cleansing our bodies,’ remember?”

You flinched to when he used your exact words of ‘cleansing out bodies’ but ignored it because he actually agreed, “yayyy thank you Daichi!! i pinky promise!!” 

you squealed and held out your pinky and he held out his and you guys intertwined them to make your promise.

“ok now come on, which do you want, 70% dark chocolate or 90% dark chocolate, i’ll let you make the choice.”

you shook your head in bewilderment that you had just been tricked, of course he was going to make you choose dark chocolate, which was the “healthiest” chocolate you could get. 

“you tricked me!” you yelled, laughing at your own clumsiness of realization.

“did not! now come on choose, after this week you can have all the milk chocolate you want” 

“fineee”

[johnkrrasinski]

dwindling, mercurial high

full masterlist

Pairings: Andy Barber x female!reader 

Word count: 2,733

Warning: SMUT!!! infidelity/cheating, age gap, unprotected sex, dirty talk, angst, lots of angst. (MUST BE 18+) 

Summary: based on the song ‘illicit affairs’ by taylor swift. things changed between you and andy, the man you’d been crushing on for the longest time, after you returned home from college. what was born from a single glance & stolen stares turned into a secret addiction, something neither of you could get sober from. 

a/n: the idea piqued my imagination after watching taylor’s folklore long pond studio session and i wondered what it’d be like to be the third person instead of the cheated one, thus this angsty fic was born. reblog & feedback are always appreciated. 

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

You closed your eyes as your back hit the wall repeatedly, you held onto him as tight as possible as you moaned in his ear. The bristle of his beard tickled your neck as he nipped your sensitive spot, causing your head to spin. The coil in your abdomen tightened, so did your legs around his waist, and you clenched around him, pushing him to thrust harder into you, chasing your orgasms. Your wailings grew louder and you cried out his name like prayer as his pace become sloppier.

Time became hazy as you plummeted into bliss while he continued to impale you, prolonging your release as well. You wanted the moment to last as long as possible as you presented your body as a vessel for him to obtain pleasure, the kind that he couldn’t get at home from his lovely wife. You didn’t mind that it took him longer to reach his peak, the comforting feeling of him being inside you was like cozying up to your favourite knit sweater and a cup of hot chocolate whilst it was raining outside.

But rains don’t last forever, and the sun was always around the corner, lurking to appear and scorch the planet once more, waking everyone up out of their comfortable place. And that’s what it was like being with Andy.

He groaned as he released deep inside you, resting his face on your shoulder while trying to catch his breath. He kissed you on the lips, claiming your mouth as you ran your fingers through his hair until he needed air. But you didn’t, because he was the air that you needed. Then he set you on your feet gently and he began putting on his clothes. “It’s stopped coming down, I should head back now, Laurie’s going to come home soon and I told her that I’d be working from home today. It’d be suspicious if I left the house without telling her.”

You nodded, “…okay.” But it wasn’t okay, how much longer were you going to have these clandestine meetings? How could you tell him that you wanted him to stay and hold you close just for once?

He slipped his feet into his shoes and untied the lace. You leaned on your hands against your study desk and watched his flushed state longingly as if you were trying to speak with your gaze and you wanted him to get the message because words would hurt both of you. He put on his coat and swung the hood over his head then stood before you, “are you okay, kid?”

No, how could you even ask me that? “Yeah.” He always asked the same question after every time you both made love but never once did you tell him the truth and he believed you. He kissed you on the forehead and there he goes, leaving you with your tears and fury once more without a single weight in his heart.

How did you end up here? It began last summer after you came back home from college. You were going to work in your father’s law firm once you finished law school and obtained your degree. Your father was a lawyer and had a good friendship with the Barbers since you were little. You even watched Jacob being born when Laurie went into labour. Besides living across from each other and worked in the same field, you were like a big sister to Jacob too. He was always a shy, introverted kid who didn’t make friends easily so Andy truly cherished your companion for his son.

You were always happy being a big sister figure to Jacob, you were both the only children so it was easy to bond over that. But what you’d never admit out loud, was also the fact that yous secretly had a crush on Jacob’s dad. What’s not to swoon over? Andy was extremely good looking, a good father and a loving husband. He was a top lawyer, courteous, soft-spoken and always treated you kindly whenever you came over.

It affected your dating life in high school because, despite all the boys asking you out, you never said yes to them. Because there was only one man that you wanted and you couldn’t have him. Even in college, you tried to forget him and seek for someone else, but even college boys couldn’t live up to Andy.

Three years went by and you finally returned home and were ready to start your career as a lawyer. Law and crimes always fascinated you because you believed that justice wasn’t as simple as black or white, or the good guy versus the bad guy so it came naturally for you to follow your father’s footsteps.

Your father invited the Barbers over for dinner to celebrate your homecoming. Laurie asked you about the college life and teased if you might’ve had dated a few boys and you nervously refuted the question by telling her that you were too busy with studying. Andy sat across you and you tried so hard not to make eye contact with him but you couldn’t fight the urge and you swore you saw him glance at you once or twice and he’d quickly look away once you caught him.

One afternoon, a couple of days after the dinner, when your father was at the court, and your mother was at her boutique, you decided to come over to the Barbers’ house. Jacob texted you earlier about his Physics homework and asked for your help on doing it. You were going to start working at the firm on Monday so you had plenty of spare time at home, doing whatever you wished for. You were bored, you had been reading books and watching Netflix all day so you decided to spend time helping Jacob with his homework.

You knocked on the door and texted him, “I’m outside.” You were a little early than the agreed time so Andy opened the door instead of the person you expected.

“Mr. Barber, hi! Is Jacob home yet?” You tried your best to keep your composure.

“No, he said he was staying for Math. He didn’t tell you?”

“Uh, he must’ve forgotten. He asked me earlier to help him with his homework and I thought I could come by early to hang out, but it’s fine, I’ll just come back later. Thanks, Mr. Barber.”

“You could come inside and wait for Jacob here if you want?” He offered.

“Um, are you sure, Mr. Barber? I don’t wanna be a bother.”

“No, please, Laurie hasn’t come home yet, and I’d appreciate the company. And just call me Andy.”

“Okay, yeah, sure. I’ve got no one to talk to at home yet, anyway. Except for my cat who only comes to me when she’s hungry.”

He chuckled at the joke as he closed the door behind you. “You want anything to drink?”

“Coffee would be nice, thank you Mr. Barber.”

He gave you a look at the nickname. “Sorry, I meant, Andy.”

“You’ve really grown since the last time I saw you, ____. You’ve even gotten good-looking.” He nonchalantly said whilst he was making your coffee. “Milk?”

“Huh?” your heart was beating fast at his flattering words. “Do you want some milk in your coffee?”

“Yes, please.” You gulped, mentally screaming at yourself to keep it together. “Are you saying that I was an ugly duckling, Andy?”

He chuckled, “no, what I meant was, your appearance definitely changed and I like it.” He served the coffee on the dining table where he laid a bunch of papers and a laptop and you tried to maintain your distance despite every cell in your body was begging for you to sit closer to him.

You hoped he couldn’t hear the way your breath hitched so you drank your coffee with shaky hands. He asked you about college or shared some advice in becoming a young lawyer. He also caught you up with stories that you missed while you were away. How he found out Jacob was bullied by this kid in his school and how he and Laurie had been arguing a lot lately.

“I’m sorry about that, Andy. But you two will work it out, what marriage doesn’t have its disputes, right? If you both had made it this far, I’m sure you can make it for many more years.”

“Thanks, ____. Be sure to keep that in mind if a guy starts a quarrel with you, okay?” He sipped his own coffee.

“I’ll have to find a guy first, I guess.”

“Are you not seeing anyone?” He gave you a quizzical look.

“No, just haven’t found the time, I guess.”

“Oh, c’mon. You’re an intelligent and attractive young woman. You should go out and explore.”

“And what if I couldn’t find one that I want, Andy?” You stirred your coffee, unable to look him in the eye.

“What do you want, ____?” He inched his face closer to you, making it hard to breathe. His ocean blue eyes bored into yours, with the kind of look that you never saw before. In this proximity, you could see how his pupils had dilated, filling the rim with darkness lust. And you didn’t question his intentions or what he was thinking but at that moment, you had never wanted him more. And you needed him. You needed him to grant your heart’s greatest desire. Him.

“You,” you voice was barely a whisper. “I want… You.”

“Say it, say it louder.”

“I want you, Andy. I’ve wanted you forever.”

Then as if the time had frozen, he slammed his lips onto yours, nearly causing your chair to fall back if only he didn’t catch you. Andy grabbed your face and kissed you with a burning passion. You shut your eyes, reeling from the swirling emotions in your stomach. It wasn’t butterflies but the whole damn zoo. Andy licked your bottom lip and you parted your mouth for him, allowing his tongue to enter and tangle itself with yours.

You whimpered and you felt Andy smirked at the way your body reacted to him. Andy then stood up and lifted you onto the table, and he slightly pulled your hair back, exposing your neck to him. He began trailing kisses there and his right hand roamed around your body until it reached the hem of your off-the-shoulder top and it travelled to your breast and he toyed with it, pinching the nipple and fondle with the globe.

“Andy…” taking your whimpers as a green light, he moved his hand down to the zipper of your jeans, fumbled with the buttons and he pulled them down just enough for his hand to caress your womanhood. Blood rushed to your cheeks when he felt your arousal. He shoved the G-string aside, allowing his fingers to stroke you.

“If I knew how much you wanted me, I would’ve made a move sooner, baby.”

The coalescence of his voice, his plump lips and his hands touching you all over nearly made you forgot where you were until the act was interrupted by Jacob’s voice from the door, “Dad, I’m home!” Andy quickly stopped his assault on you and let you go. You stood on shaky legs as you tried to smooth over your rumpled top and zip up your jeans.

Luckily, when Jacob found you both in the kitchen, he didn’t suspect anything and you followed him to his room, walking away from Andy as if nothing even happened. And that was the beginning of your doomed affair.

His infidelity carried on for months and none of you had found the strength to break it off. You knew it was wrong in so many ways. You always considered The Barbers as your second family despite your latent feelings for Andy. You’d be letting down so many people if they found out about this affair. Each time you both ran off to find escapism in a secluded place, you were consumed by guilt. Every time you told yourself that you can always stop, that he can always stop, you were choked with words. The desire has rooted itself way too deep and none of you could go back now.

It started in your room and once he’d grown weary of the atmosphere, he’d take you to a motel a little outside of town where nobody really knew who you were and it has now taken you to an empty parking lot. Andy laid on the reclined shotgun seat with his clothes off and his pants around his ankles. You leaned your hand on the window as his cock stretched you open from under.

He loved the way your breasts jiggled with each thrust. You had your shirt lifted just enough to display your breasts for him while your shorts and underwear were thrown off to the backseat. His cock was hitting your G-spot repeatedly, creating tantalizing friction. You writhed above him, screaming his name as loud as you possibly could with your mind disarrayed from his thrusts. He had both of his hands gripping your hips solidly, controlling your move as you rode him.

“After all the time I’ve fucked you, you’re still so tight,” He groaned. He moved one of his hands to breast, pinching the nipple and you mewled from the pleasurable sting. He slid his hand up to your throat, cutting off your airway, suffocating you. Your whimpers your muted but it didn’t stop you from moving up and down on him. His other hand slid under your body, he toyed with your wetness and rubbed your clit, causing you to clench around him. “You gonna cum all over my fat cock, baby?”

His filthy words never failed to arouse you. If anyone had told fifteen years old you that the man you had such admired and respect, though from afar, had a foul mouth during sex, you would’ve told them to piss off because they had no idea what the hell were they talking about, but now you had an explicit, front-row seat view of it, you couldn’t look at him any other way.

The way his cock rutted into you and the way his digits worked you over and over again, while his massive hand made you struggle for air, sent your body into overdrive and you cried out his name as if it was your salvation. Your brain was clouded with ecstasy as he continued to ram into you, chasing his own release.

You lost the power to straddle him and collapsed on top of him. Andy’s hands travelled back into your hips, locking you in place as you were pliable with your prolonged orgasm. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum too, baby.”

Then Andy emptied his seed into you, filling you up with his load, and he groaned out loud in your ear. You both tried to abate your breathing while he was still sheathed inside you. The closeness felt intimate and comforting and somehow it felt like you were committing treachery. Your limbs were intertwined and you didn’t wanna untangle yourself from him because you knew if you did, he’d drive you home and take the less travelled by road and that would be it.

There was no post-sex cuddling or aftercare. There was no murmuring soft words under a duvet and exchanging tender kisses while basking in the afterglow with him. Because that’s all this was, an illicit affair. All there was after a steamy rendezvous were quick showers to wash off traces of each other as if you didn’t even exist and a spontaneously fabricated tale so the other person wouldn’t know where the other one had truly been.

You wanted to throw things at him and scream, don’t you fucking call me kid or baby, I’m neither of those things. You wanted to hate him for the godforsaken mess he’d turned you into, but you couldn’t. Because he had shown you colours you couldn’t see with anyone else and you couldn’t erase the secret language he taught you from your mind despite the idiotic fool that he made you.

And no matter how many times you witnessed him kissing his wife like a loving spouse would and how long he made you wait for a call, you knew damn well that you’d do it all over again for him in a heartbeat.

[qslovebot]

Doubt, Denial, and Fucking Destiny: Raymond Wadsworth

Summary: After reconnecting with Raymond when he returns to town, he finds it hard to believe that he was your childhood crush due to the many years he spent believing he was unlovable. Your crush on him never left, it was simply buried, so you prove that you did like him and maybe still do?

Pairing: Raymond Wadsworth x Short Fem!Reader

Warnings/Includes: alcohol presence, mention of past verbal abuse and bullying, mention of weight loss, self-doubt, low self-esteem, kissing.

Raymond Wadsworth never thought himself deserving of any sort of proper love.

He grew up in a home where every day his stuck-up father pointed out his mental and physical flaws, his wrong choices, and his past and present failures with no hesitation or apology. Constantly under scrutiny and judgement at home, school wasn't much better. It may have even been worse.

The kids would poke fun at Raymond for his looks, his weight being the main target of most of the insults and he dug himself deeper by eating his feelings away.

To top it all off, he spent his childhood believing that he could see and communicate with the dead. With ghosts, to be more specific. And his father called him crazy for it all. You heard whispers of it around the school.

Raymond's childhood was hard, you knew that then as you knew it now, watching him prepare to drink himself away as you watched him down chocolate milk after a beating by older kids in the park years earlier. Many... years earlier. Too many- was this even Raymond?

He was taller now, maybe 6'1, nearly 6'2? He was much thinner now, but he looked decently healthy and his hair was still just as unruly as it had been all the way back then. He was, in fact here and he was also very very very attractive. To you, maybe. He'd always been attractive, even before he became who he was before he returned to the town.

Being about four years younger than him, you had admired him endlessly and achingly as a child. To be frank, he never took notice of you that way, only seeing you as the annoying little brat with the pigtails who chased him around the playground back then.

It was stupid that your heart skipped a beat the moment you knew it was truly him. It had been decades since you last saw him and you'd had many unlasting relationships since then. Here was your crush from when you were merely five and your heart fluttered? Stupid. Ahead of yourself.

But you wandered over to him anyway, sitting down next to him on the barstool. "I thought you had a blood pressure issue," you started, smiling as he froze the hand that held the shot he was about to throw back.

"Yeah... how did you know that?" He questioned before actually looking at you. The moment he lifted his head to get a glance at who was speaking to him, it was like all his organs stopped working at once. He choked on pure air at the sight of you. You couldn't help but smile.

He continued coughing and you laughed, "I don't think taking that shot is a good idea anyway... do you need water, Raymond?" You knowing his name set off a new round of coughing and you and the bartender nodded at each other as they placed a cup of water in front of Raymond.

You watched him try to recalibrate his respiratory system and eventually, he regained his breath, looking up at you through curls. "I'm sorry, uh, hot girls- they usually don't just walk up and talk to me."

"Aaand hot men usually don't choke on absolutely nothing when I approach them, so there's a first time for everything." You smiled, folding your hands and resting them under your chin. It seemed like it took him an extra second to process that you had just called him hot. He was just as shy-seeming as he was then. It seemed like he was also trying to place your face. "You don't remember me?"

"I think I do, I just can't place where..."

"I'll jog your memory," you suggested, immediately reaching to pull your hair into ponytails that stayed put with your fists. You lowered yourself a little and nodded, pulling your mouth to one side to mimic the way you looked so long ago and his jaw dropped.

"(Y/N)! No way! Oh my god, you're still 5'2!" He gasped, running a hand through his hair. So he did remember you after all. "-And you have boobs now, that's- that's great." His eyes drifted and you snapped to get his attention back up to your face. "You look- you look great, holy fuck."

"Thak you, so do you," you shook your hair out again and bit your lip. "You look so much happier."

"You can say skinnier," he shrugged.

"I would say skinnier if that's what I meant, Raymond, but I meant happier." He seemed a little bit surprised. "I see that you are but frankly it never mattered to me. I liked you anyway."

His eyebrows narrowed, "Liked me anyway? Weren't you like... five when we met? I was... nine-ish. And you... you would follow me around, was that a crush?"

"It was," you admit, a small smile tugging your lips again, eyes fluttering from his hands back up to Raymond, who looked baffled. It made sense that he thought nobody liked him back then. Your reveal to liking him then seemed to grip him with shock well enough. Wait until he understood just how long. "-And it lasted until I was thirteen and you were... seventeen. I think that's around when you went, wasn't it?"

He nodded, eyes drifting. You snapped again and his mind snapped back to where it should be. "Y-yeah. When did all this... happen, because when I left you were..."

"Conventionally unattractive." You finished. "Well there's one word to sum it up and it's puberty. It hit me, it hit you and now we are right back where we started and you seem just as likeable."

"And you're far less annoying..." he trailed off. "I cannot believe you're still here."

"I can't believe you're back." You grinned. You could see his interest in you as he sat there. Was he wearing pyjamas? It all seemed to add up. You were here, he was back, and your heart kept fluttering oddly. So you spewed it, "I think my crush for you is still here, oddly enough."

It was fun to see him joke on air again. "You still like... me?" He seemed so shocked to hear it. "Woah woah woah, no. You can't have my wallet. Or are you a prostitute now?"

"Not a prostitute, I was trying to hit on you while being sweet at the same time," I sighed, downing the shot Raymond had in front of him. He didn't seem to care much about it. He was swallowing hard now, sharp cheekbones flushed.

"Genuinely trying to hit on me?" He questioned again. He really didn't believe you, huh? But it made sense, what with his upbringing. The overweight kid who saw ghosts- the reputation didn't fare well. So you decided maybe,

"We should get out of here, Raymond. Those bitches over there are still picking on you and you can't really drink without your blood pressure killing you, so I say we just go for a walk." You suggested. His long fingers rested on the edge of the bar and you let your smaller hand close around his. "I've paid for my drinks and I will pay for yours." You slapped money down on the counter for the bartender.

"A walk?" Was all he could really say before you led him out of the bar and into the night. You could only imagine what was going on in his mind. An ugly annoying girl from his childhood was now hot and socially decent and now he finds that girl still likes him and always liked him, even at his worst... Must be exciting.

The breeze was cool outside, but the air around the flow was warm. You finally answered, once a few steps from the bar entrance. "Yes, a walk. Bar settings tense you up, look at how loose you are now. You don't even notice you're still holding my hand." You teased, giving his hand a squeeze before interlocking your fingers with his. He turned pink again and it could be seen even in the flickering lights of the street.

"I suppose I'm confused... You don't think I'm gay?"

You narrowed your eyes, "Are you?"

"NO!" He shouted back. "Why does everyone think that?"

What the fuck? "I never suspected you were but looking at you, maybe it's the ascot."

"The ascot?"

"The ascot." You replied with a small smile. "I don't think you look gay... I don't even think it's possible to look gay. You do look cute though. Maybe those other bitches who called you gay are gay."

He nodded, halfway through untying it. Both of you kept walking down the sidewalk. "Thank you." I could tell he was trying not to say too much now. He was doubting himself.

I sighed, swinging Raymond's arm over my shoulder, fingers never unlocking. I could feel his hand trembling a little. "Raymond, I know this was sprung on you, but I did and do like you. I have yet to properly figure who you are now, but I do." You made sure to look up at him so he knew you were serious.

His mouth was open as if he wanted to speak, but couldn't. Until he did. "Are you sure you're not a prostitute?"

Holy fucking shit. You began to rant, "No, Raymond! I'm just a girl. I'm just a girl and I like you and I want to maybe know you before you head off again. This whole town is a fucking gravity pit, a fucking black hole and I would like for once, for someone to want to talk to me. AND, I would like nothing more than for you to know that people are in fact capable of liking you romantically, despite everything your asshole father may have told you, or the kids at school who couldn't see your worth then or now and I-"

He spun you, fingers still intertwined and suddenly, his lips were on yours, and he wasn't particularly sweet or gentle. In fact, it was ravenous. He pushed you against the wall of the building you were passing. It seemed like the slightest bit of reassurance, the slightest bit of someone showing him how much he was worth, set him off. But you didn't really care.

Raymond's shaking hands slid into the roots of your hair, holding your face as he kissed you with great passion. With muffled 'mmmm's and wandering hands, you gripped him by the ascot, holding him down to your height.

But you couldn't kiss him much longer. "Raymond, I don't want to take advantage of your insecurities," You mumbled against his lips. You had been more confident earlier, but he had you practically unravelling. "I've always liked you, I have, and I'm so glad we just kissed, but-"

"My heart is beating too fast to properly hear, but I know you're sweet as hell and I really just want to pretend we're teenagers and make out for forty minutes nonstop, is that okay?" He interrupted with rambling, and it was more than clear what he wanted.

"How about forty-five, ghost boy?" You yanked him down by the ascot again and his hands went right back to either side of your face while he pulled you into the alleyway. He got his forty-five minutes and it ended sweetly, with him making you promise to come and see him tomorrow. You agreed, watching him go. He walked backward as to say goodbye, but tripped over a garbage can.

He was alright. There would be a conversation piece in the bruise he would probably get tomorrow. Call it fate or call it fucking destiny that he was back and your feelings were still there. All these years and you finally had what you'd wanted so long ago. Plus, it was only the beginning.

[s-horne]

Donuts and pink coffee

2000 words of established-relationship stony set in my Harley&Peter universe where Tony hates Valentine’s Day and Steve is a hopeless romantic without even trying

**

It was a stupid excuse for a holiday. Really, just stupid. What was the point of it anyway?

Did it matter that Tony had forgotten, because it wasn’t as though it were one of their anniversaries or Steve’s birthday, was it? It was just another day, just an over-commercialized day essentially created by corporations to take advantage of hype. Valentine’s Day was a money-making scheme if he wanted to get political about it. Not that Tony was bitter, or anything. He just didn’t see the point in it.

It was never made into a big thing when he was a child. Jarvis, his parents’ housekeeper, had usually bought his wife a single red rose that she would be wearing in her hair when Tony got home from school and ran into the kitchen to steal a quick snack before dinner, and he always made sure that Tony’s mom always got a box of chocolates taken to her room with her morning cup of coffee, but there was no other ‘love’ present just because it was Saint Valentine’s Day. There were never any gifts from his parents to each other, never more than a stiff kiss on the cheek from Howard to Maria before he left the room to go back to his study. They didn’t even smile at each other over dinner; Howard was always too engrossed in his work to remember the date. The same went for their anniversary and Maria’s birthday. And pretty much every other day of their lives together.

 -

Since he’d woken up on the stupid holiday, Tony’s day had only gotten worse. Not that it had started out great when he’d slept through his alarm and then run out of milk for the kids’ cereals so had had to try and convince them to have toast instead – only to find that there was no more peanut butter and Peter didn’t eat toast without it.  

Then, when he’d gone to his coffee shop on his way to work, he’d struggled to get a regular cup of his usual coffee as the baristas tried to perfect drinks in frankly disgustingly-unappetizing hues of pink instead. Even his usual croissant had been replaced by a new range of cupcakes with fondant decorations of hearts and what were probably supposed to be cherubs, but had looked more like swans in diapers.

When he’d finally made it to the office – coffee- and croissant-less – the day had been far from productive. All his staff had wanted to talk about were their plans for the evening and every meeting he’d conducted had been interrupted by deliveries of massive floral bouquets for his blushing staff. The more flowers that had arrived, the more people asked Tony what he was doing to celebrate with his gorgeous man – his secretary’s words, not his. (Not that he disagreed.)

Apparently, nothing was the wrong answer to that question, judging by the dropped jaws and side eyes he’d gotten. Tony just didn’t need a day to tell Steve that he loved him. He didn’t need a stuffed bear or chocolates or red roses that suddenly seemed to be five times the price that they had been when he’d ordered them for Steve’s mom a few weeks before.

In his defence, he and Steve been together for years and they were the fathers to two young boys. Honestly, they barely remembered to kiss before they collapsed into bed, never mind finding time to plan an entire day of romance. They’d done all that before – well, no, they’d never really done that, actually. Their courtship had been a whirlwind of stuffed toys for the boys as gifts instead of flowers, dates to museums or playgrounds instead of theatres or restaurants, and snatched moments of ‘grown-up’ time between babysitter deadlines and after-school clubs. But it worked for them.

By the time he was done with meetings and paperwork and could head home, Tony was honestly fed up of life in general. After feeling nothing but peer pressure all day, he had decided to try and do something to at least mark the day. He’d tried to order Steve’s favorite takeout, only to find that the restaurant was fully booked and were experiencing a wait time of a few hours for delivery.

All he’d seen all day were signs for flowers, posters plastered in near enough every shop window for roses in so many shades of red that it made Tony’s eyes hurt. But Steve didn’t like flowers around the house because they were likely to be knocked over by a rambunctious little boy playing a made-up game and spill water all over the floor, so that was no good. They also had enough candy in the house to last them for months so that idea was out too. Neither of them had the need, or the want, for a stuffed bear and Steve didn’t do jewelry. 

Tony was stumped.

 -

Finally, finally, walking through the front door, Tony felt the day’s tension fall from his shoulders. He couldn’t get to the kitchen fast enough, needing to throw off his coat and drop his bag down before they suffocated him.

When he was finally free of those, – and his shoes, tie, and belt – he looked around, only just noticing that he was alone. It was unusual for him to be left alone for so long on the days that he was kept at the office later than five and was more often than not ambushed as soon as his car pulled up to the drive.

Before he could go searching, he noticed the table. Two of the tiniest boxes of candy were set on the table next to a box of donuts, placed right where he usually sat for their meals. Someone was obviously a lot better at romance than he was. Make that three someones, he realised as he stepped closer and noticed three different sets of handwriting, one on each box.

Daddy! Happy V-day! :) proclaimed one box of candy, letters neat and small enough to fit in the white space on the packaging.

Daddyy!!! Happy velentins day!!!!!! said the other in a bright red pen, box a little bent from Harley’s blatant enthusiasm and finished with a little doodle of what was probably a heart in one corner.

Grinning, Tony turned to the last gift. It was a box of his favorite donuts and very obviously from his favorite bakery, even if the label had been covered with a post-it note.

Sweetheart, it said in a stark black, Happy Valentine’s Day. Love you today and always

Tony swallowed, tracing his finger over Steve’s cursive. It didn’t make sense, how much he had and who he had around him.

What had he done to deserve the life he had?

   -

It didn’t take him long to find his boys after that and he paused in the doorway to the living room, feeling any leftover stress ebb away as he took in the sight of Steve sprawled out on the couch with Peter draped over his legs and Harley tucked under his arm, all three of them completely enthralled by the bright film on the television.

“What are we watching?”

As soon as the words had left his mouth, Peter and Harley’s heads shot up and they scrambled to get off the couch. Harley managed it first and barreled across the floor, throwing his arms around Tony’s neck when he was close enough and wrapping his legs around Tony’s waist.

“Daddy! You’re home!”

“I am, babe. I’m sorry I’m so late.”

Despite always saying he was too cool for hugs whenever Steve or Tony initiated them, Peter quickly joined Harley and buried his face in Tony’s stomach, hands on his thighs. “Hi. Didja see the candy?”

“I did, you little superstar. Thank you very much. Happy Valentine’s Day to you, too.”

“Valentine’s!” Harley shouted, far too close to Tony’s ear for comfort. “Love you!”

“I love you, too,” Tony murmured, pressing a kiss to Harley’s temple before he set him on the floor where he scampered back over to the empty couch. Running his hand over Peter’s hair, Tony mentally counted down the seconds of hug he had left with his eldest. Five seconds was pushing it, most days. “Love you, as well, terror.”

All too soon, Peter pulled away and Tony let him go with a held-back sigh.

“Hello, handsome.”

Smiling, Tony turned his head. “Hi, gorgeous. Say, you wouldn’t know anything about a box of donuts in the kitchen, would you?”

“Hm, possibly? Are they in a yellow box?” Steve asked, stepping closer, brow furrowed a little.

“Don’t think so. Pink, if I recall.”

“Oh, those donuts. Right, yeah, I know something about those,” Steve murmured, taking a last step to him and curling his arm around Tony’s waist. “Think I saw them earlier. A secret admirer, perhaps?”

Tony let himself move to Steve’s body, his hands lifting automatically to rest on Steve’s chest. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he said, lower lip pushing out a little as he sagged in Steve’s hold.

“Yeah? Why’s that, then?”

“Cause it makes me look bad,” Tony said, dropping his head into Steve’s neck much like Harley had done to him. God, he needed a hug.

Steve laughed softly. “How?”

“I didn’t get anything.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Steve pressed a kiss to the top of Tony’s head, one hand settling on the small of his back, “it’s alright. I didn’t do it to get something in return.”

“Ugh,” Tony said eloquently. Steve had always been the better of the two of them. Better with words, better with thoughts. Apparently better with romance and remembering dates. “They only had pink coffee at my shop.”

“Uh oh. That doesn’t sound good.”

“It wasn’t.” Burying even closer, Tony let out a long sigh. “I didn’t even get a croissant.”

“Even worse,” Steve said, so much fake shock injected in his voice that it sounded like he was talking to one of the kids. When Tony pinched his side, he laughed loudly again. “Did you manage to salvage the day after that?”

Honestly, Tony couldn’t remember. It didn’t matter, either, not with his boys laughing at whatever movie they had gone back to watching and with Steve’s arms holding him tight. He must have made some sort of noise as Steve chuckled again.

“I’ll take that as a no. Want to crack open those donuts? There’s a bit left of this film and I said the kids could have something sweet before they went to bed – I swear they got more candy from school today than they did at Halloween.”

Tony made another noise. “In a minute. They’re watching the film for now and I’m perfectly happy where I am.”

“Okay,” Steve said softly, pressing another kiss to Tony’s hair as his arms tightened around him. “I’m glad you’re home.”

“So am I,” Tony said, eyes closing. “I love you. You know that, right?”

“Course I do. I’m incredible.”

Tony snorted. “You’ve been hanging around with me for too long. But even if I don’t do flowers and chocolate and donuts, I love you. So, so much. You are one of the best things that ever happened to me and I thank everything I can think of every single day for you coming into my life.”

There was a silence, broken only by the laughter of their sons and some noise from the movie that Tony still hadn’t identified. All too soon, Steve pushed Tony away from him ever so slightly. With wide eyes, he lifted shaking hands to cup Tony’s face, thumb stroking over the apple of Tony’s cheek.

“You, me, and our boys,” he said, voice serious and unwavering and sounding like something one would say at an altar. “I love you more than I will ever be able to tell you.”

“I want to spend my life loving you.” Whenever he had to get serious, Tony normally chose to do it in their bedroom, with his back turned to Steve and the lights down low. He hated baring his feelings, hated putting himself somewhere to be vulnerable, but it was less scary with Steve’s cologne surrounding him and his touch keeping Tony grounded. “With our kids and some donuts and no flowers and the discounted candy I’ll buy tomorrow.”

Steve’s smile was gentle as he ducked his head and brushed a kiss to the corner of Tony’s eye, just above where his fingers lay. “I’ll take that deal. On Valentine’s Day and every other.”

[sw124]

MLC: Josie and Viper

[Symbiote Boyfriend]

She hadn’t moved all day, she barely ate anything all week, she didn’t speak to anyone for almost a month; her phone muted. She tossed and turned on her couch from time to time but mostly to keep a cramp in her leg at bay. The only time she moved from the couch was to use the restroom, if it wasn’t for Viper she probably would have trouble even moving a single finger.

“Babe, honey you need to eat.”

Josie tilted her head towards the voice, no one was in the room. Her stomach complied with the tone, it growled like a ticked off bear. With a heavy sigh she walked into the kitchen, she went to the fridge and pulled out a gallon of milk. From her back a large ocean-black tendril extended and pulled out a box of cereal and a large bowl. Josie picked up two spoons and went back to the couch, once the cereal was made the tendril picked up the remote and turned on the TV; from her shoulder a larger mass formed a head and turned to her. Large milky eyes curved upwards before leaning and gently placing a soft kiss on her cheek.

“….Thanks sweetie…….sorry about all this-“ she was silenced with a smaller tendril touching her lips.

“Babe you got nothing to be sorry about, come on lets watch some dumbass commercials and classic cartoons. We’ll deal with what happened later…ok?”

Viper nearly melted seeing her smile, he could feel that little spark of joy in her…but then get smothered by guilt again…he had to help her but problem was how.

After the seventh spoonful of chocolate cereal came a rather interesting commercial. It was an ad for the Meta Clinic and…Monster/Human couples therapy? This made the couple pause, this was…well this was new! Sure there were dating sites, clubs, cafes and speed dating for people looking for monster boy/girlfriends but now offering couples therapy?

Viper wanted so badly to grab the phone and call for an appointment but…he didn’t wanna force Josie into something like that. He’d be doing more damage then good…he’d start by talking about it.

[Two weeks later]

“Viper and Josie?” The secretary called out. Josie looked up from her phone and stood up.

“Thats us…” Viper extended his head from her back giving a nod.

“Dr. Fortune will see you now, please head back down the hall to room 7 please.”

With a nervous smile she proceeded down the hall, Vipers head gently tucked beside her..whispering soothing nonsense. This was enough to at least quell the rising panic in her chest, finally they came to a door with the number 7 on it. With a hard gulp Josie pushed opened the door…

The room was massive! It almost looked like the lobby of a hotel, hell it even had a pool in the corner of the room and a tank! The room was painted in shades of two-toned moss, the air smelled of perpetual rainfall…and lemon. It was there but didn’t overpower…the temperature was perfect.

In the center of the room were two chairs, a large love-seat sofa and a dark grey armchair. Between them was a white round table with a pitcher of water and three glasses. In the grey armchair….was the doctor they came to see.

“Ah, you must be Josie and Viper. Please come in, have a seat.”

She hesitated but…Josie complied, the love-seat felt like if jelly and clouds got married and had a baby. It was so soft and cool to the touch, best part she didn’t sink it like some other chairs. Viper loved the feeling, hell he could just imagine cuddling up with his girl on this couch watching old sci-fi movies.

“Lets get started, first can you tell me how you met an how long have you two been together?”

Josie paused…then spoke. “Well…Viper an I met via collage..we had the same class, we got paired up and it sorta started from there. We’ve been together for about…two years now.”

“What kind of class were you in?”

“It was a philosophy class, I took it cause I was curious on what made philosophy so damn interesting.” Said Viper.

“I personally took it cause I’ve loved things that sorta question the norm of society. Our project was to listen to one of the stories of Plato, we got ‘The allegory of the cave’ and write our thoughts on the meaning and reasons behind it….those were some of the best nights I ever had.”

Josie never noticed the subtle blush on her cheeks, but that smile she had told the Doctor everything they needed to know, even Viper couldn’t hide his smile.

“You and Viper have a very close relationship I can tell…however the reason why you’re here is not really about the two of you. Its the people around you, mainly family.”

You could almost make out Josie’s heart in her throat, Viper; if he had one, would have been in his as well. Dr.Fortune took a sip of water and…with a sniper-gaze they fixed on Josies eyes.

“I’m going to take a guess, stop me at any time. The problem isn’t with either of you two but from Josie’s family.”

Josie began to chew on her thumbnail, Viper was quick to pull it away as the Doctor continued.

“Your parents I will take are very strict people, perhaps even falling in line with deep religious practices but yet despite saying their ‘devout’ they continue to say and do things that go against the basic principles of their religion. Growing up they saw you as either property or a tool to get what they wanted. If you ever raised your voice in defense of yourself…you were either met with Verbal or Physical violence…”

The Doctor paused, fat tears were cascading down Josie’s face. Her breathing was labor, almost choking on some of her deeper breaths. Viper already had his tendrils wrapping around her in a tight embrace, gently whispering into her ear.

[Klink!]

Josie jumped, looking down she found one of the glasses had been filled with water…with a lemon slice in it. She looked up at the Doctor who was pouring a glass for themself.

“Take a sip, it’ll help.”

She…did feel a little parched, Viper handed her the glass, she took a few small gulps. Blinking she looked into the glass…the water tasted sweet, with the lemon slice it almost had the taste of lemonade but without the sharp zing. She noted how the water almost was coating her throat, soothing the burn forming.

“Like it? Its something I made myself for my patients, I boil distilled water and honey together an let it sit overnight in the fridge then add lemon slices to it. The honey and lemon help soothe your throat while the cold water rehydrates you.”

“Its…really good.” Josie smiled taking another sip. “Everything you said…was right, even the religion part. My parents always treated me like I was some show pony at every gathering, they never listened to me an always thought my problems were just…not worth their time.” Josie rubbed a tear away.

Viper remained quiet but nodded when she was done speaking, Dr. Fortune turned to Viper then.

“An the first meeting with her parents they referred to you as a ‘parasite’ and even went so far as to disown Josie from her own family if she didn’t breakup with you.”

Vipers eyes went wide for a moment before slowly closing…his lips curling back, showing off his razor teeth.

He hissed. “Yes, the moment she finished telling them they started calling her all sorts of nasty things and…even went so far as to say they picked out a husband for her to marry. To be honest I actually knew the guy and he…he’s rich but also a huge dick, he was the biggest bully at my high-school back in the day. When Josie refused…they disowned her and kicked us out on the streets…this was around a month ago…”

Dr.Fortune set their glass down, leaned back in the gray chair with their elbows resting on the armrests…fingers pushed together in a pyramid fashion.

“An since then Josie has received texts and phone calls demanding she breakup with you and marry this ‘dick’ all for the sake of money. I’ve seen this before and its a classic case of narcissism but also a show of parental neglect and abuse.” Doctor Fortuned leaned forward, their gaze turning sharp.

“Josie….for starters you are not the problem, your parents are stuck in a mindset that is outdated and unacceptable. You are not to blame for their disappointment, no you never were. Your parents refused to change their ways and therefore are stuck in the past. However that doesn’t mean you have to, in order to help yourself you need to first cut ties with the ‘parasite’ that is your family. Go completely no contact with them, then once thats done I want you to focus on your relationship with Viper.”

Josie blinked, eyes widening. Cut ties with her family?! How could she do that, this was her family!

“Yes I’m aware your not keen on the idea but…let me ask you something. When has your family ever done anything for ‘you’ out of love an ask for nothing in return?” Josie opened her mouth but….nothing came out…she looked through all her memories…but couldn’t find anything.

“Now…I want you to think about what Viper has done for you, who do you think is more deserving of your time an energy? A family that wants you to marry a jerk for money or the symbiote who from the moment he met you has treated you like the human you are?”

Josie sniffled….they were right, ever since they met; Viper had shown her nothing but compassion, patients and love. Sometimes she felt so guilty about putting him through her crap but…he never complained about it. She rubbed her eyes again, it was time to stop waistline her hard earned time and effort on people who didn’t love her! It was time she spent her energy on Viper and school!

Doctor Fortune smiled, the match was struck and the fire was starting to burn. Now it was time to slowly stoke the coals and make sure they never went cold.

“Your right Doctor….I need to stop waiting my time with those people…I’m thankful they gave birth to me but thats no reason to hold it over my head. I’m…I’m done with them!” Josie slapped her knee, it…it felt really good to say that.

Viper could feel the adrenaline pumping in her, yes there it was, the spunky spitfire he fell for was back an with a vengeance!

“Thats good to hear, but thats just the first step in your road to recovery. I want you to take this a step at a time, in time you may learn to ‘forgive’ your family but don’t you ever, EVER forget what they’ve done to you. If you forget then your just gonna end up falling into their grasp again. On another note as a way to help you cope and give you a extra bit of therapy I suggest taking up a type of hobby. Hobbies can help you gain a sense of control over your life.”

The Doctor paused and looked down at their watch. “Oh, it seems we’re just about done with our session. If you’d like to set up another appointment please see the secretary up at the front desk, before you go is there anything you’d like to ask me?”

Viper looked at Josie, she looked right back at him before turning to the Doctor.

“What kind of hobby should I get?”

Doctor Fortune handed them a small brochure. “Try flipping through this and see if any catch your fancy, my suggestion is find a hobby you two can do together or by yourself; its really all up to you an there are no wrong choices.”

An with that…Josie and Viper left, scheduling another appointment two weeks in advance. As they walk outside Josie looked through the brochure, there were so many hobbies to choose from..

At least she and Viper can choose together.

[I plan to do more couples, I did a Symbiote/human couple to start cause everyone is familiar on what they look like thanks to Venom. I’ll be working on more monster like boyfriends in the future. I hope you like this, I’ll be doing more of this in the future including Yandere couples. This was inspired by @semisolidmind artwork, I also wanna thank @sarabat85 for helping me out as well. My next couple will hopefully be posted very soon and was put together by my closest and dearest friend @eomlotanis who has always helped me with story ideas and character development.]

[bitchjerk78]

‘’MAKE ME YOURS’’

Summary: you and Dean are alone in the new motel.

Word count: 3347.

Warnings: smut, fingering, blowjob, sex, dirty talk.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

<< What are you thinking about? >> Dean's warm voice takes you back to the rear seats of the impala; you sigh softly and shake your head moving your gaze to his focus face

<< Nothing >> you're tired and you don't really want to talk even if it's Dean. He nods and looks back at the straight, traffic-free road. Sam has his eyes closed and breathing heavily, he's probably sleeping which you should be doing too, especially after spending the night studying the new case. Unfortunately, it's daylight outside and you can't sleep with light. You relax your back and wait for you to arrive at the motel

<<Are you worried?>> Dean disturbs your thoughts once again and try not to snort

<<No, Dean>> you say his name slowly and you lick your lips <<I'm just tired>> he bites his lower lip and you think how much you would like to do it in his place

<<Go to sleep then>> you giggle bringing your eyes to the sky and you look at him for just a little while longer, just long enough to imagine yourself caressing his sweet face, your hands clutching his short hair and your mouths kissing. One on top of the other while his mighty arms hold you tight to his chest

<<Aren’t you tired?>> suddenly, you want to talk to him

<<Not much>> he raises his eyes looking at you from the mirror and gives you his usual cheeky grin <<Why don't you lie down and rest for a while?>> he suggests but you are not entirely convinced, you prefer to stay and observe him rather than sleep

<<I do not feel like, then I would be cold and I have nothing to cover me with>> you hold your arms to your chest while watching the dark clouds cover the blue sky like a blanket

<<There should be my leather jacket back there, put that on>> you are surprised hearing his voice say those words

<<Do you mean this jacket?>> you slightly raise the dark sleeve to show it to him, he nods slowly <<The jacket that no one must touch otherwise they will find a bullet in the forehead?>> he nods convinced and tries to hide an amused smile

<<I mean that jacket, y/n>> you like how your name looks so light and delicate when his lips say it, it causes a shiver down your back and your legs shake

<<I thought you didn’t want others to use it>> he sighs as if he was fighting a battle against himself

<<I want you to wear it, y/n>> you bite the inside of your cheek and you hurry to put it on. It's hot and very heavy, you can smell Dean's delicate scent envelop you in a warm hug and you close your eyes to enjoy the moment. You see him smile and you lie on your side while still managing to watch his calm body guiding carefully. You sigh and imagine his face near your chest and his hands caressing your back, and despite the light, you fall asleep.

You feel two strong arms squeezing your body and a hard wall caressing your head; you slowly open your eyes not feeling the comfortable seats of the impala under you. Dean's quiet breathing warms your heart as you realize you are in his arms. You yawn slowly placing your lips on his chest; he stiffens and holds you closer to him. He opens a door and the dim light of the motel room forwards you

<<Are we there?>> moans sleepily

<<Yes>> Dean whispers softly as he leans on one of the two bed            

<<What time is it?>> he sits not far from you and you cling to the sleeves of his jacket

<<I think half past nine, Sam went to get something to eat for breakfast>> you nod and bite your lip knowing it's just you and him <<I'm going to take a shower, or do you want to go first?>> the idea of ​​a hot shower appeals to you, but he has been driving for a long time and deserves it after all

<<You go, I will separate my clothes to remove the dirty ones>> he nods and gets up walking silently towards the bathroom

<<Ah, y/n >> he whispers before opening the door <<You are so sexy in my jacket>> he winks at you and disappears inside the bathroom. You keep your mouth dry as soon as you understand what he just said to you and bite your lip hard to try to drive away the thrill of pleasure that has ignited your every desire. You lie down on the bed and close your eyes, as soon as you feel the water flow, you begin to imagine his marble body as it turns red under the hot jet. His graded hands caressing his chest, you wish they were yours in reality. You would like to caress every inch of his skin, kiss his neck and moan his name over his lips.

You close your eyes and jump with your heart racing as soon as Sam returns to the room, you sit up trying to hide the excitement and shortness of breath

<<Sam>> you whisper without voice and with a cough you get up <<Did you bring breakfast?>> he nods and he hands you a cup of coffee and milk. Your favorite

<<Is Dean in the shower?>> he asks, biting a chocolate-covered donut <<Did you rest for a while?>>

<<Yes, I slept a couple of hours>> he smiles at you but his smile dies as soon as he notices your clothing

<<Is that his jacket?>> you nod softly <<I can’t believe it>> he shakes his head and turns around you with an incredulous look and frowning eyebrows

<<I was cold and he>> Sam bursts out laughing

<<Holy shit>> he claps his hands electrified <<Now everything is clearer>> he whispers in a low voice as if he were talking to himself

<<What are you talking about?>> your heart skips a beat at those words, but he slowly shakes his head

<<Nothing>> he bites his lip in amusement <<  have to go to the laundry, I have some clothes to wash. See you later>> winks at you amused and grabs a dark bag.        He leaves the room leaving you alone, you close your eyes and take a sip of coffee. Dean is still in the bathroom and you wonder what he's doing to take so long, you wouldn't want it to run out of hot water.

You see him leaving the bathroom with only a simple white towel tied around his waist, his sculpted body and his muscles wriggling under the water. A few droplets run down his shoulders, wetting his back and his damp hair moves slowly. You know that under that towel, he is completely naked and you bite your lip looking at his thin waist. Bet your pupils are dilated and eager, the only thing you can think of is his body on top of yours while he grunts above you

<<Sam went to the laundry>> you explain trying in vain not to look at him, he grins and nods slowly while touching his beardless chin

<<So we are alone?>> you nod slowly and widen your eyes as you see him walking safely towards you. You can smell the excellent scent of the bubble bath and get lost in his green irises

<<Dean>> you whisper his name and you don't know if you're begging him or you are just confused

<<Oh, y/n>> he sighs as he licks his rosy lips with his tongue, you get out of breath and with a dry throat <<You don't know what I would do to you>> you swallow loudly while your belly catches fire. Take a firm step towards him leaving him surprised

<<What would you do to me, Dean?>> you ask not looking forward to hearing his voice become low and hoarse. He grins and shakes his head. Reach out a warm hand and grab a flap of the leather jacket, drawing you to him

<<First of all>> he approaches your face stopping at a palm from your lips, you look at them and you would like to kiss them <<I would take off this jacket so I can put your my under your shirt>> you stiffen feeling the excitement born in you and let his safe hands take off your heavy jacket <<I would caress your delicate body and get close to your ear>> he gets so close to hear his breath echoing inside your brain <<I would bite your earlobe and suck it slowly making you moan>> you feel his teeth nibbling the delicate part of your ear and a delicate sound comes from your lips, you hear him smile satisfied and you understand that you would do whatever he asked of you

<<Then what would you do?>> you ask without voice but full of excitement

<<I would start kissing your neck>> his full lips leave a dry trail of kisses along your skin, you tremble at that contact and your belly burns excitedly. His hands cling to your hips and push you towards him. You collide with his erection and stifle a moan of pleasure <<Then I would take off this shirt and kiss your chest, breasts, belly>> you gasp while his hands continue to gently caress you <<I would make you lie down on the bed>> move your face in front of him so that you can look into his eyes <<I would take off your jeans and look at your completely wet panties just with the sound of my voice>> you cling to his arms because you know you could pass out if this continues. He stops and looks at you <<Then what would you like, y/n?>> you lick your lips not knowing if you will be able to speak

<<I would like to feel your fingers on my panties>> you are ashamed, but his gaze gives you the strength to be sincere <<Feel your kisses right there while between a moan and another I call your name>> his pupils dilate and you would like to feel it inside you. You smile and you approach him touching his nose with the tip of yours, he smiles and approaches your face <<I would take off this towel and I would start kissing your neck>> put your lips on his soft skin feeling your whole body go in flames. His hand grips your back and pushes you against his chest. His erection collides on your hips and you would like to feel it pulsing inside your hand <<Chest, belly>> smile and slowly move your hips towards him. He closes his eyes and his breathing becomes heavier. You are about to continue, but his hand ends up in your hair and you freeze. It pulls your tail forcing you to look up

<<I want you, y/n. I want you now>> he has a low and hoarse voice and shortness of breath <<I want to make you mine>> you tremble at those words and excited sighs

<<Make me yours then>> smiles and approaches your lips with an amused grin

<<Good girl>> you moan and pounce on his lips. His expert mouth begins to move slowly against yours, your tongues are savored as they explore the other's mouth <<Fuck>> he moans as I caress your naked hips <<You drive me crazy, y/n>> he lowers grabbing your thighs and tying your legs behind his back. He squeezes your butt and his erection rubs against your belly. You end up with your back to the wall and Dean's body pushes against you <<I want to fuck you so bad. I want you to scream my name>> he looks at you and bites your lip making you roll your eyes

<<Oh, Dean>> he starts kissing your neck and gently biting your skin. He's torturing you <<Take off my shirt, Dean>> you need to feel his naked body on yours. The simple black shirt ends up in a corner of the room and you are left with only the bra. He looks at you and approaches your lips

<<You are so beautiful, y/n>> he leaves a trail of kisses up to the breast, nibbles one and makes you lay in bed. He crawls up on you undoing that simple piece of cloth. He licks his lips and approaches one of the hard nipples. He squeezes it between her teeth and he arches your back to push yourself against him. You grab his hair by pulling it and moan with pleasure

<<Dean>> you moan biting your lip to keep from screaming, your legs feel soft and the excitement grows in you every time he kisses you

<<Shut up>> he grunts and pushes his erection against you making you moan <<I said, shut the fuck up. Do you understand me?>> you nod softly <<Answer>> he grunts

<<Yes>> he grins and starts kissing your belly

<<Good girl>> you moan hearing yourself called that and you feel his smile against your skin <<I'm in charge here, understand?>>

<<Yes>> you're out of breath because you've never heard anything more exciting. He goes back to your lips and look at them longing for them, he looks you in the eye and gently caress your face

<<You are mine, y/n>> you moan and kiss his mouth. He break the kiss and undo your jeans. He moves slowly pulling them off, caressing your thighs <<Open your legs>> you do as he says and feel his mouth kissing the inside of your thigh

<<Dean>> you moan as his nose brushes your panties <<Shit, it's so beautiful>> you bite your lip and your hands end up in his still wet hair again. He leaves you a kiss from above your underwear and you arches your back to be able to feel that electric shock

<<You're so wet>> he does it again and a loud moan fills the room. Your panties hit the floor and you feel your cheeks go up in flames. You're completely naked in front of Dean. You close your legs a little in shame and he climbs towards you <<Don't be ashamed, baby. You're perfect>> he smiles at you and he caresses your warm cheek <<I've never seen such a beautiful girl. Trust me, y/n>> you nod and he comes back between your legs. He kisses you and a cry of pleasure spreads in the room, you pull his hair hard, making him moan loudly. You gasp as soon as you feel a finger inside you

<<Shit, Dean>> he grins and looks at you raising his eager eyes. He kisses your clit while his expert fingers go in and out with repetitive motions. You feel you are about to come and you cling to the sheets. You freeze as soon as he stops

<<Don't try to come without my consent, do you understand?>> he grunts on your face and you are breathless from all that beauty <<You are mine, I decide when you can come>> you nod

<<Yes>> he stays in that position and while looking at you, he starts touching you with gentle, slow movements. You close your eyes and close your dry lips, he bends down to kiss you and you feel your arousal on his mouth. He walks away a little and you hear him smiling near your ear. You open your eyes and look at the two fingers near your face

<<Suck, y/n>> you look at him and take his fingers in your mouth savoring yourself, you nibble them making him roll his eyes with pleasure and moan excitedly <<You're so good>> he kisses your neck and with a quick movement you start astride him. You look at hi, and smile. He approaches your lips kissing them softly and then you move to the neck, suck his lobe and lick the part under his ear <<Oh fuck, y/n >> he grunts and you move your hips over his erection to be able to feel that beautiful moan. You kiss his chest and lick his hard nipples

<<Mhm, Dean>> you whisper as you nibble the skin of the belly. You look at the towel and unfasten it without stopping to look him in the eyes. He gets up a little leaning on his elbows so he can look at you. You are amazed as soon as his erect cock pokes out from under the towel. Oh how you want to feel it in your throat

<<I know what you want to do, baby>> he whispers softly placing two fingers under your chin and making you look up <<Suck>> he orders and smiling you take it in your hands. It's hard and when you stroke the end with your thumb, Dean closes his eyes and bites his lip <<Fuck>> he grunts and you do it again. You feel it pumping under your palm and you move so you can kiss it

<<Can you tell me what to do?>> I ask with fake innocence as I look at him from below. His gaze hardened and he grins in exasperation

<<Take it in your mouth, or I'll fuck you until you can no longer walk>> you smile satisfied and kiss the end licking it with innocence. You leave a trail of kisses along the entire length and, finally, you take it in your mouth. You pass your tongue all over the pumping part and gently suck the tip before pushing it down your throat <<Oh, y/n>> he moans grabbing you by the hair and accompanying your movements <<You're so fucking good>> he arches his back and pushes deeper, you like to feel it there in your throat and you moan feeling the excitement move every single organ of yours <<Oh my god, please, baby. Keep it up>> you look at him while you keep moving your mouth on him and moans as soon as an overbearing sound comes out of his throat and shakes your chest <<Y/n, stop>> he prays moving <<I don't want to cum in your mouth>> he grunts, drawing you to him and kissing you passionately

<<Dean>> you moan on his lips <<Do it, please>> you whimper <<I can't resist anymore>> he smiles and you straddle him

<<You are a good girl>> he kisses your chin as he enters you gently. Stay still for a few seconds so that you get used to that feeling and as soon as it becomes pleasant, he starts moving by pushing his hips against you. You feel his cock inside you as he moves confidently

<<Oh, Dean>> you cling to his shoulders as his pushes become stronger and faster <<In this way, yes, keep it so good>> you kiss his shoulder and scratch his back try not to scream

<<Oh, y/n. You are so beautiful>> he whispers as he grabs your hips tightly and kisses your chest <<Don't come, baby>> he moans feeling you're about to reach the limit <<I didn't give you permission>> he grunts in your ear and his pushes become harder

<<God, I can't resist anymore>> he grunts and you bite your lips <<I'm about to cum>> you kiss his half-open mouth and move your hips to feel his cock deeper

<<I'm about to come, y/n >> he warns you moaning in your mouth <<Come for me, baby>> he whispers as his pushes come to an end << Come for me>> your moans become faster and closer until your legs stiffen and start shaking <<This way, good girl>> his last push makes you explode and scream his name

<<Dean>> you moan loudly as he orgasms your name

<<Y/n>> you collapse exhausted on his chest and he gently comes out of you with breathlessness. He stretches out and cover you with a sheet. You remain lying on him without being able to move and with shortness of breath <<You were very good>> he leaves you a kiss in your sweaty hair and close your eyes <<Go on, sleep, baby. When you wake up, I will be here>> you kiss his chest exhausted and collapse in his arms.

[ladykissingfish]

The Great Akatsuki Bake-Off

*this was a request in my inbox, I’m so sorry Anonymous I accidentally deleted it before I could reply, but I saw your message and here’s the response! ❤️*

Premise: The Akatsuki is broke af (again), and Pein comes up with the idea of having a bake sale to earn money. Every member of the Akatsuki makes a dessert to sell; chaos (or hilarity) ensues.

**Also I picture them setting up tables outside of one of the Akatsuki hideout caves which of course is equipped with a fully functioning kitchen because why not Jim**

Pein

It was his idea, he’s the leader, so naturally he ain’t cooking. The most the Pein-body will do is sit in the kitchen with Konan while she cooks, offering his opinion or praise.

Kisame

Kisame isn’t the biggest fan of sweets, so is at a bit of a loss for what to make. In the end, he decides to go with something that’s decidedly more savory than sweet; bacon-flavored scones with a maple syrup glazing. This requires some kneading and precise shaping, the latter of which requires small, delicate fingers that Kisame borrows Konan for. Should be noted that he wears a pink Kiss The Cook apron, and he blushes like crazy when Konan reads it and delivers one to his cheek. He gets a bit over-exuberant with the icing, getting more of it on the table than the actual scones. However, the end result is light, fluffy, and absolutely delicious. Deidara especially loves the bacon aspect, and is able to snitch a great number of these until Kakuzu catches him and forces him to pay up.

Deidara

Deidara would make a classic lava cake. He’d know absolutely nothing about this dessert beforehand; he’d be going through a cookbook, his eyes would fixate on the word “lava”, and he’d be sold. Sasori insists that he put on rubber gloves beforehand, because “Nobody wants your hand-drool in their food, brat.” Lava cake requires a very delicate touch and precise timing, something that Deidara has had to become familiar with when deploying his arsenal of bombs. Yet despite being careful he would have to start and re-start this mix many times; maybe he gets eggshells in the batter here, or mistakes oil for milk there. The inside of a lava cake has to smooth and liquid-y but the outside has to be soft yet firm; a single minute in the oven can make the difference between wonderful and awful for these little cakes. When he finally perfects one, he’s ecstatic; but the rest of the group is horrified, at how destroyed the kitchen is. Chocolate batter and powdered sugar covering every wall; yet, somehow, the guy himself remains spotless. Also, Deidara has made another critical error; he assumed that because the recipe was for a cake, it was for a LARGE cake that he could cut into sections and sell piece by piece. However, lava cakes are always small, individual desserts ... and Deidara has only made ONE. Still, he’ll take his one beauty and sell it almost immediately, leaving him time to wander around and filch “free samples” from everyone else’s dishes.

Zetsu

Nobody wants Zetsu trying to cook, because everyone is terrified of what he’d put into his creations. However, White Zetsu insists that (t)he(y) wants to participate, so the others hesitantly let him do so (with everyone periodically coming in to monitor him). His contribution? Pie. Zetsu knows that the key to delicious pie is in the light flakiness of the crust, and he creates several pies that literally melt in the mouth. And he doesn’t just do one flavor; he does apple, blueberry, cherry, and something he calls “surprise berry” ((which is really just a mix of raspberry, blackberry, and strawberry). Before Tobi goes to help Itachi, he’s in charge of helping Zetsu gather up the fruit, and he helps to peel and core and pit and wash until “my hands are really sleepy Zetsu-san!” Zetsu thinks his pies are perfect creations as a whole but Kakuzu insists he cuts them into individual slices to maximize profits, which White Zetsu balks over but Black Zetsu tells him to be quiet about.

Konan

Konan is a delicate, beautiful flower, so naturally anything she makes would reflect this. After much deliberation, she decides to make her version of a layered lemon mascarpone cake. The cake itself is a wonderfully moist vanilla sponge infused with lemon curd, layered with a thick lemon, honey and mascarpone cream, topped with fresh berries, and a light sprinkle of chopped pecans. At first she was only going to make one cake and portion it out into about 20 small pieces; but the demand for it was so high that Kakuzu told her he’d stay and sell the rest while she got back into the kitchen and made another. She’s by far the neatest chef in the kitchen, as she cleans up her mess as she goes so when she’s through, all she has to wash is the empty cake pan itself. She makes sure to save a large piece to secretly take to Nagato later; it’s been a long time since he’s had anything sweet to eat.

Kakuzu

Kakuzu doesn’t want to cook; he’d rather be the one running the sale. However he recognizes that the more desserts they have the more profit they can make, so he grudgingly makes a few trays of brownies. His secret ingredient? Sour cream. At first everyone sees him putting this into his mix and think he’s gone crazy; however, after they try one ((and don’t think for a second he’s not charging his fellow teammates for even a tiny sliver)) they’re blown away by how good they are. After he sets his items on the table, he’s the one who collects the money from the customers. Has to be talked down from the exorbitant prices that he tries to charge people at first. “How much for a piece of blueberry pie?” “500,000 ¥.”

Sasori

He really isn’t into baking (because why would he be? he doesn’t eat) but he knows how to read and follow a recipe. After some careful thought, he chooses to make cupcakes. At first he resolves only to make a dozen, and to keep it all one simple flavor: the chocolate with vanilla frosting that’s in the recipe. Yet as he stands there, a feeling takes hold of him; he remembers happier times, perched on a stool in the kitchen and watching/helping his grandmother as she cooked. That nostalgia drives him to get more creative, and make MUCH more than intended. Some of his creations are great; such as his ginger-chocolate cupcakes with fudge icing. But others, like his broccoli and carrot cake topped with “spicy” cream cheese, not so much. Regardless, the majority of his creations sell, which Sasori’s pleased about. Should be noted that Kakuzu did not entirely trust Sasori not to put some kind of poison into his dessert, so he forced Hidan to sneak and taste-test everything (as he’s the only one who would regenerate from certain death). But Hidan wouldn’t know arsenic from cinnamon; and he winds up with a hell of a stomach-ache after his forced culinary servitude.

Itachi and Tobi

Seeing as how he loves dango so much, Itachi decides to make several dozen sticks of the tri-colored sweet rice dumplings. He keeps the pink dumpling the common strawberry flavor, and the white plain, but he does something special with the green ball, flavoring it with vanilla extract and green tea. Because Tobi is a nightmare in the kitchen (and because he needs supervision when it comes to sweets), Itachi allows him to help, mainly in the form of sticking the dumplings neatly on the stick once they’re shaped. He’s a good helper, except for when Itachi takes his eyes off of him, as he likes to add icing, sprinkles, and a variety of decadent extras that don’t belong on this simple dessert. And it’s a good thing that Itachi makes so many, seeing as they BOTH sneak and eat quite a few when the other is distracted. Tobi is very helpful when it comes to pushing their wares, as his carefree, childlike demeanor attracts customers to their table.

Hidan

Hidan wants something that’s visually representative of him, so what does he make? Red velvet cake bars. The outside is covered with a white-silver frosting, but when you cut into it, the deep red of the cake greatly resembles blood. Hidan isn’t the best at baking (or cooking in general) so he asks Konan to help him when she’s not occupied with her own dish. He’s surprisingly calm and conscientious in the kitchen, keeping his swearing to a minimum and being extra-careful with measuring out ingredients and waiting on the oven to do its thing. He borrows Kisame’s Kiss The Cook apron, only he crosses out the second O and replaces it with a C. His bars come out slightly uneven but really good nonetheless. However, being Hidan, he can’t resist throwing in a prank; he saves some of the cake batter and holds it in his mouth, then, after taking a bite of someone else’s fare, claims that it’s poisoned and spits “blood” out of his mouth, which freaks out their early customers until Kakuzu catches him and exiles him back inside.