#he bought all of them before they could restock ;-;

[nowimjustastranger]

How Stcmo!Ford would handle these situations of Stans that didn't even make it outta Jersey:

A Stan digging through garbage cans for food but that would eventually starving to death, looking like a skeletal husk of himself.

A Stan being stalked by a disgruntled Sham Total customer with a pistol and that would eventually be close enough to Stan to pulled out the pistol and shot him in the back of the head.

A Stan in a bar that would end getting into a bar fight that would making him being stabbed and be left bleeding out in the back alley behind the building.

Wow, some of y'all are really dark with your asks. But like, I see the appeal, there's just never enough Stan whump in the fandom. Be warned though, I'm about to hurt/comfort the shit out of these scenarios.

Scavenger Stan

Stan starving to death would be an instance where Ford would step in before it got bad enough to result in Stan's death. Sure, Stan would still be seriously malnourished, but he wouldn't already have one foot in the grave. From there, Ford would diligently work on getting Stan's body used to eating proper portions and nutritious foods again. Once Stan gained some weight back, Ford would bring him to his brother. Though, if Stanford decided to be a self-righteous dickhead, Ford would corner him and show him pictures and footage of what Stan first looked like and how he had been living before Ford found him. That would really put things into perspective for Stanford, prompting a shift in how he viewed his brother.

Stalked Stan

Ford would get there just in time to keep a bullet from ever coming into contact with Stan's body, disarming the attacker and shooting the attacker's thigh to incapacitate them before using the memory gun on them. Again, Ford would take Stan to a different location, making a pit stop at whatever motel Stan is staying in to get his stuff before heading to a much better hotel. Ford would encourage Stan to wash up, giving him a spare change of clothes that he always has on hand for missions like these. While Stan is in the shower, Ford would teleport to the nearest laundromat to wash Stan's clothes and duffel bag. He'd also get food and restock Stan's supplies while he was out, returning to the hotel room to lay all the stuff he bought on Stan's bed. Then he would decide whether to bring Stan to his brother or let him carry on on his own, though the best option is usually the former.

Bar Fight Stan

Now, this scenario is one I could see Stan actually getting hurt in. With the chaos unfolding in the bar, Ford wouldn't be able to reach Stan in time. Ford would fire his gun into the air to make the crowd scatter, making a beeline to Stan now that he wasn't slowed by dodging sloppy attacks or grabbing hands. Ford would help Stan stumble out the back door into the alley so they could use a wormhole to get away from the scene before the police arrived, giving Stan first aid as soon as they emerged in one of Ford's safehouses that are scattered throughout the multiverse. Of course, Ford would go back for Stan's things, putting El Diablo in storage for a month. Then Ford would make sure Stan's wound is fully healed (which wouldn't take as long with alien tech) before bringing him back to his dimension. He'd probably end up delivering Stan to his brother as well.

[funnydishserver42]

GUYS IT’S HIM!!!

(btw this image is public domain so you can repost, make it ur pfp, whatever without credit to me)

[captainmalewriter]

Miss Pigwin's Journal

Among the myriad of stereotypes surrounding gay men, Ivan never really fit into any of them. He was never the flamboyant queen nor the circuit party gay. Ivan always considered himself to be more of a lone wolf type. Although many would find the life of a social hermit boring and exhausting, Ivan truly didn’t mind his quiet, solitary lifestyle. Just class, work, gym, rinse and repeat. It was a simple routine, but it was one that Ivan loved. 

One evening, after his engineering classes, Ivan made a quick pit stop at the local store before heading back to his apartment. He needed to buy a new journal after he had filled out the last page the night before. Journaling was a hobby that Ivan took very seriously. For the past five or so years, Ivan would take 10 minutes every night to write his complete, unfiltered thoughts in his journal before bed. It was a therapeutic practice for Ivan, and he did not plan to stop anytime soon. 

Ivan was hoping to find a stylish yet relatively cheap journal but was quickly met with disappointment instead as he made his way down the stationary aisle. The store had completely run out of notebooks! A nearby employee told Ivan that the overnight crew would restock the store and that he should return the next day, but he was too determined to give up after having gone through the trouble of walking to the store. He scoured the store until he finally found one misplaced notebook, although its gaudy design left much to be desired…

It was a bright pink journal with glimmering sequins and came with a large bundle of pink ribbon. The journal had an ugly cartoon drawing of a pig in a princess dress along with her name ‘Miss Pigwin’ written in glitter across the top of the cover page. Ivan pulled out his phone and did a quick internet search to find out more about the Miss Pigwin notebook. Apparently, it was limited edition merchandise for some obscure children’s cartoon that never made it past 5 episodes. The idea behind Miss Pigwin was that kids could better understand their pets by helping them communicate with them. Kids were tie a piece of ribbon around an animal, and with Miss Pigwin's help, they would become their best friends. At least that was what the old advertisements promised anyway.

Obviously, the designers meant it to be used for pets like dogs and cats, so it was no wonder the pink journal was quickly discontinued after kids tried to tie ribbons around dangerous, wild animals instead. All in all, it was just cheap scraps of overly decorated paper for imaginative little girls. 

Ivan didn’t care much for the girly pink notebook. However, it was still a notebook at the end of the day, and the $5 price tag was too enticing to give up. He bought it and promptly returned to his apartment where his roommate Jesse was hosting a few of his frat friends over for beer pong. 

Ivan and Jesse were not friends but they were civil enough as roommates. Jesse wasn’t officially a part of a frat yet, but he already had the wild personality of a frat brother anyway. Jesse’s constant partying and drinking was annoying to Ivan, so he often made himself scarce—  as he did that night. He went about his usual nighttime routine and thankfully, by the time he sat down at his desk to journal, all of Jesse’s guests were gone. But just before he could touch pen to paper, Jesse came stumbling into the room.

“Hey, bro, you got any ribbon or string by any chance?” Jesse asked. Ivan hesitated saying yes right away.

“Maybe, what for?” 

“There’s this stupid Tiktok trend going on right now. Dudes are tying a piece of ribbon around their bicep and flexing until it breaks. The bros are saying I need to do every trend I see if I wanna continue rushing.”

“Cool, makes sense. Here, you can have it all. I don’t need it.”

Ivan took the bundle of ribbon that came with the Miss Pigwin journal and helped Jesse tie a piece around his bicep. Although Ivan did not like Jesse in that way, he couldn’t help but feel a little bit excited as he wrapped the ribbon around his straight roommate’s muscular arm. It was probably the only time he’d be that close to Jesse, so he relished in the moment as much as he could. Once it was tied, Jesse thanked him and left the room to record his Tiktok. Meanwhile, Ivan returned to his journal and began writing. 

March 12th - I am soo fucking h*rny. Sometimes, I wish my roommate would give in to his secret desires and just makeout with me already. 

Just as Ivan finished writing the last letter, a terrifying scream coming from the living room interrupted his journaling session. He quickly ran out with the pink journal in hand and saw Jesse straining himself to break the ribbon. No matter how hard he flexed, the pink ribbon stayed firmly wrapped around his bicep.

Although Ivan was worried about the pink ribbon constricting Jesse's arm, he couldn't help but stare at the massive bulge in his roommate's gray sweatpants. It was huge! Was Jesse hard? Ivan always had a feeling that his straight roommate was packing some serious heat downstairs, but he would've never guessed he'd be that big and thick! Just seeing his bulge was enough to make Ivan's jaw drop!

"Dude is this ribbon made out of fucking titanium or some shit! Where the fuck did you even get this!?" Jesse yelled out in anguish. It was enough to bring Ivan back down to Earth.

"I don't know! It came free with this weird notebook I found."

"Whatever!! Just go get the scissors! This shit's way too tight, my arm's starting to go numb!"

"Right! Hang on, I'll be right back!"

Uh oh!!

Just as Ivan turned around to go get the scissors, a sudden high-pitched voice made him stop dead in his tracks. It was a girl's voice, and it was coming from the notebook in his hands. Ivan looked down and froze from what he saw. The cartoon princess pig had come to life!

Uh oh!! It looks like our new friend isn't being a very good listener! Let's play some music to help clear his mind!

Miss Pigwin began singing a melody while soft piano music played. The music had no effect on Ivan, but it did on Jesse. Jesse suddenly stopped fighting and just laid flat on the floor. Within seconds, he had gone from a pissed off jock trying to rip the ribbon off his arm to eerily calm and relaxed. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and exhaled heavily. Jesse had a dazed look in his eyes once he opened them. He had a dull, almost sleepy-like expression plastered on his face too. It was like he was sedated by simply listening to Miss Pigwin's song! Only once Jesse was fully relaxed did Miss Pigwin finally stop the music.

Yayyy!! No more distracting thoughts! Now what did our best friend tell us?

Ivan watched in awe as Jesse got up from the ground while massaging his protruding bulge. His movements were almost mechanical, like a mindless robot following orders. He then began walking towards Ivan while reciting what Ivan had written inside the Miss Pigwin journal.

"I'm soo h*rny... I just wanna make out with my roommate. I'm soo h*rny... I just wanna make out with my roommate. I'm soo h*rny... I just wanna make out with my roommate."

It was incredible. Despite having never read it, Jesse kept repeating what Ivan had written over and over like a personal mantra!

Once Jesse closed the gap between them, Ivan got a good look how dilated his pupils were. It was quite the sight to see, though Jesse didn't give Ivan any time to react. Instead, he quickly joined his lips with Ivan's and kissed him roughly. Ivan was caught off guard by the surprise kiss but quickly matched Jesse's energy as the two kissed like it was their last night being alive. Ivan could hardly believe it. He had gone from merely tolerating his roommate's existence to making out with him in the same night! He felt himself light up with joy and pleasure as Jesse's hairy chest pressed against his with every kiss.

They continued at it for a while, locking lips until they gradually moved towards the couch. From there, they both discarded any remaining clothes they had on. Ivan hopped into Jesse's strong arms and went in for another deep kiss. He was shuddering with anticipation as he felt Jesse's rock hard boner tap against his butt. Luckily for him, it didn't take them much longer until they decided to get into position. Ivan spit onto Jesse's cock to lube it up, then guided it into his hole. A deep, sensual moan escaped his mouth as Jesse slowly thrusted his hips into him. Inch by inch, his dick disappeared into his ass. The room then filled with the sounds of men grunting and heavy, cum-filled balls clapping against Ivan's cheeks. Ivan was in heaven, while Jesse was in a trance with only one thought in his mind. Give into his desires, and makeout with his roommate.

Ivan woke up the next morning feeling like a brand new man after the amazing pounding he had received from Jesse. To say he was in a state of bliss would be a massive understatement! Even just remembering the feeling of Jesse's massive cock inside of him was enough to make Ivan smile with delight. But his grin quickly faded when he reached out for the Miss Pigwin journal and found it wasn't where he had left it before falling asleep. Even worse, he found a piece of pink ribbon had been tied around his wrist while he was sleeping.

"No... Nononono NOO!!"

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty! Looking for something?"

To Ivan's horror, Jesse was holding the Miss Pigwin journal and he looked furious! Although, despite the present danger, Ivan couldn't help but notice that Jesse still had the same ribbon tied around his bicep.

"Hey man... Let's put down the journal, and have a civilized conversation between adults. I promise it's not what it looks like, just let me ex-"

"Nahh FUCK that. I'm glad I woke up just before you did, otherwise I would've never found out what the fuck you did to me with this weird journal. You always gave me weird vibes but this? I... I don't even know where to start I'm so MAD!"

Jesse slammed a fist against the wall, startling Ivan. He then let out a maniacal chuckle as he pulled out a pen and opened the journal.

"Alright, Ivan, you wanna fuck up my mind so badly? Two can play at that game!"

Loud scribbling filled the room. Once he finished, Jesse read out loud what he wrote.

"Ivan's too serious for his own good. He needs to lighten up and join my frat so we can become best bros forever!!"

"...That's stupid. I'm not gonna do that."

"Are you sure?"

Uh oh!!

"I think Miss Pigwin might disagree with-"

Ivan smacked the book out of Jesse's hands, catching him off guard. The journal landed against the wall with a loud thud. Ivan wasted no time making a break for the journal. He bought himself a few seconds by smacking it away from Jesse. Those few seconds were all he needed to open the journal to a new page and write something down. In the heat of the moment, he could only think of one thing to write.

"Jesse's gay 4 me!"

"YOU FUCKER! ERASE THAT SHIT RIGHT NOW!!"

Jesse grabbed the journal but Ivan had a tight grip on it. The two slammed into the nearby walls and furniture as they tried to wrestle it out of the other's hands. The Miss Pigwin journal was getting torn and crumpled up in the crossfire of their fight, but that didn't stop the princess from carrying out her sole purpose.

It looks- New friend- Good listener! Let's- Some music- clear his mind!

Miss Pigwin began singing her soothing song, forcing both men into a hypnotic trance as they listened. They both fell to the ground screaming as the pink ribbons grew tighter around their bodies. They tried plugging their ears with their fingers, but it was already too late. The second they heard the first few notes of her song, Miss Pigwin was already deep within subconscious- ready to broadcast whatever was written in the journal directly into their brains. However, because the journal had gotten destroyed during the fight, Miss Pigwin's subliminal messaging turned out to be incredibly potent than usual.

Ivan fell back against the ground in a daze. He couldn't believe how discombobulated he was. It was like he was trapped underwater as he felt his mind beginning to clear of any and all thoughts. Ivan let out a heavy sigh as a powerful, cool calm filled his body. Soon enough, the only thing he could think about was how badly he wanted to become a frat bro just like Jesse. Ivan repeated his new life mantra to himself as his mind became hyper focused on only one goal.

"I need to lighten up... I need to join a frat... I need to become best bros with Jesse..."

A lot of his engineering knowledge got wiped away from his mind to make room for his new personality. Mathematics and physics were replaced with workout regimes and a strong, itching need to drink and get laid. The partying lifestyle of the frat bro that once repulsed Ivan became as normal as breathing to the former homebody gay man. Ivan tried resisting against Miss Pigwin's conditioning. He tried reminding himself how much he loved a quiet night at home by himself. He tried recalling how much he hated loud, obnoxious men who did nothing but party and drink all night. But everytime he tried fighting against it, the little voice repeating his mantra grew louder and louder until all opposition was completely stamped out. Ivan had been reborn.

As he rose from the ground with an altered conscience and personality, the only thing on Ivan's mind was how to maximize his gains the next time he hit the gym. After all, how could he even dare to show his face around his frat brothers if he couldn't keep up with them in terms of bodybuilding?

Meanwhile, Jesse laid out sprawled on the ground as a calm stupor washed over his aggravated mind. Soon enough, his mind became a quiet place where only one thought remained.

"I'm gay for Ivan... I'm gay for Ivan... I'm gay... For Ivan..."

Jesse repeated the same sentence to himself until the words no longer felt foreign leaving his mouth. Soon enough, saying he was gay for Ivan felt as natural as saying his name. His desires to sleep with women melted away from his subconscious everytime he recited his new mantra.

Like Ivan, Jesse tried fighting against it. He tried remembering the taste and feel of a woman's touch, but it was no use against Miss Pigwin's powerful conditioning. His memories of being with women were quickly fading. In their place, a deep, profound love for his roommate-turned-loved began to take hold. Within minutes, Jesse wanted nothing more in life than to stand by his boyfriend's side and make sure he felt loved.

Once Ivan and Jesse woke up to their new personalities, Miss Pigwin finished her song, never to be heard from again due to the journal being in tatters. Jesse woke up with a headache and with a grinning Ivan by his side.

"Good morning my handsome boyfriend, how'd you sleep?"

"Amazing because I slept with you, my love." Jesse joined his lips against Ivan's. The two shared a deep kiss filled with passion, ending with a loud smack when they finally pulled apart.

"You ready for today? I can't wait to start the rushing process, then we can join together!" Ivan flashed a wide smile. Jesse wrapped his hands around Ivan's neck.

"The frat can wait till later. Right now, I want you all to myself."

He pulled Ivan in for another kiss. The two men then proceeded to fuck all morning, completely unaware of the strange circumstances that led them to that point. All thanks to a little princess pig on the cover of a bright pink notebook.

[zalayni]

𓂃 💫 ੭ ᝢ SUGAR ༉

spendin' all my nights alone waiting for you to call me. you're the only one I want by my side when I fall asleep 💤

❛ pairing: earth42!miles x reader

❛ summary: after a long day there's nothing better than having your lover help you as you do your night time routine, no matter how girly it might be.

❛ warnings: the lower caps are intended. reader uses she/her pronouns.

❛ author's note: this is supposed to be longer but I lost everything and had to restart it from scratch. also this isn't proofread what so ever. I live like a warrior i'll die like a warrior 🫡🫡(I'm too lazy to read alat)

if anybody told Miles from when he was new to being prowler that he would be sitting in his room, wiping a girls makeup off specifically HIS girls makeup off he'd just tell them. “man you're buggin.”

yet here he was.

after a long day of standing around with music blasting in your ear while people laughed in the background you were finally back alone with Miles. it was silent but at the same time it was comforting. Miles was there kneeling infront of you, wiping your makeup off as you sat on the vanity chair he had bought and installed in his room along with the hello kitty mirror he saw people hyping up on tiktok.

don't get it mixed up though Miles would never use that vanity, he bought it for you. he filled up the drawers with makeup and products he'd see you use just for you. he did all of this because all he wished was for you to feel at home with him.

he went through the hard work of building and putting up the parts by himself as he was too embarrassed to ask uncle aaron or his mom for help. what would uncle aaron say if miles would randomly come in his home saying “help me build this pretty pink and white vanity I just bought.”

you always crashed at his place or miles would crash at yours. either way he always insisted on helping you with your nightly routine.

"all done Mami, now go wash up. I'll get your pajamas from the laundry." Miles attempted to get up before getting stopped by your hands pulling him down to peck his cheek. you pulled away while muttering a thank you.

Miles smirked at you while getting up.

"yeah, no problem. anything for my girl."

miles was the sweetest person to ever come into your life. who knew Brooklyn's number one killer would be such a lover boy? maybe it's because of the fact that he's always been a mamas boy growing up.

you finished up your shower, wrapping the towel around your body before a knock echoed through the bathroom. "ma, can I come in? I've got your pajamas." you quickly opened the door to see Miles standing there with your pink pajama set in his hands.

he stared at your figure watching as water droplets still slowly rolled down your body.

"Morales you're staring at me." you playfully said while side eyeing before taking the clothes out of his hands. Miles huffed and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you closer silencing your giggles with a kiss.

"whatever ma you're trippin' I wasn't even staring you're just reading into it too much. even if I was can you blame me? I bagged such a pretty girlfriend."

Miles eyed you down once again before leaning close to your ear. "maybe even future wife."

ugh what a tease. yet everytime he did this you felt butterflies in your stomach.

he chuckled before exiting the bathroom leaving you there staring at his back, stunned. you shook it off with a laugh and got dressed so you could be back in his arms.

you brushed your teeth and did your skincare that Miles would always restock on. you felt bad as they were pricey but he would always insist on buying them for you.

you hanged the towel on the rack to dry and exited the bathroom, practically speed walking to Miles room. once you opened the door you were met with Miles laying comfortably on his bed with nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants on. He had his arms up with his phone in his hands scrolling on whatever socials he was checking up on.

you closed his bedroom door before crawling in between his arms, laying your head on his chest. Miles sighed and put down his phone, wrapping his arms around you. He pecked the top of your head making you look up at him. "long day?" you asked him making miles suck his teeth.

"tch. ma you were there with me, yes the function was fun but of course my mom had to make us stay till past midnight talking about some ‘hold on we'll leave after I'm done talking.’" you laughed at him mimicking his mom's voice whole repeating what she would keep saying during the function.

mrs morales loved you so she told Miles to invite you to their family's function as his date which you gladly said yes to.

the day was long and your feet might've ached from all the standing as every seat was taken up, your stomach might've hurt from all the aunties insisting on you to eat more but at the end of day you got to see Miles smile, and it wasn't because of you. for some that was the rarest sight to witness.

after the death of his dad Miles drifted away from everyone but here he was laughing and bickering with his favourite cousins. he was actually playing his favorite sport, basketball for once and laughing whenever he'd steal the ball from his cousins.

you witnessed Miles grow as a person and slowly pick up broken pieces. it was truly heart warming.

here you laid in the dead of night, ear on Miles chest hearing his soft heartbeat with your eyes closed. you were calm yet your head was racing with thoughts. you decided to break the silence after awhile of listening to his breathing pattern and heartbeats. "hey Miles, I'm not sure if you're asleep but I have a question."

it was silent for awhile making you think Miles fell asleep before you could ask it but then he answered. "go ahead Mami, I'm listening."

"would you give the world to me?" you looked up at him only to see his half lidded eyes staring down at you. "mhmm no."

your heart dropped at his answer, lips close to quivering, but the hard beating of your heart slamming against your chest was calmed down with what you heard him say afterwards.

"hermosa, why would I do that when there's other planets too?"

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

please do not steal, copy, translate or put my work on any other apps. thank you for reading 🫶

artwork in header made by koscribbls on instagram

[gilverrwrites]

Bat Feeder

AN: I keep seeing those rich people social media posts where people fill Dollie’s up with snacks and leave them outside for delivery drivers, and imagining doing something similar for the bats. Bat-Fam/Reader, 1K words (Batman, Harley Quinn, Nightwing, Red Hood, Robin, Signal, and Spoiler) CWs: None, just a silly little fluff fic. GN! Reader

It starts small, just a tray with some water bottles, packs of gum, maybe some protein bars and a multi-pack of chips you bought but didn’t like. You write ‘For Batman, Robin, and other vigilantes; Thanks for what you do :)‘ in Sharpie on the front of the tray and leave it on your balcony, not really expecting much, it was just a silly thought after too much doom scrolling.

It goes untouched for weeks, you’ve almost forgotten about it until one night, at like 2 AM you hear the sound of heavy boots walking on metal grate, so faint you would have missed it if you’d been asleep. Curious, you peek through your curtain and there’s Red Hood!

He stands there for a long time, motionless as he seems to stare at it, helmet hiding any real emotion until he pockets a pack of gum and water before leaving, dropping down into the street.

News must spread amongst the other heroes cause within a few days the basket is nearly empty. Enthused, the next time you go to the store you pick up some new items, just a few extra bits that are within your budget; chips that don’t taste like cardboard, candy, and energy drinks.

Your efforts are clearly appreciated as you wind up having to restock every couple of days. The energy drinks are the biggest takers, and you worry you might be supplying the younger ones with high amounts of caffeine that they shouldn’t be having.

One day you’re scrolling through insta during your work break and see Spoiler has posted a masked selfie of herself holding up a chocolatey protein bar with the caption ‘Perks of the job! 💜⭐️ #thankyoukindcivilian’ or something like that. In the back of the photo you see your basket and you’re elated.

Another day you wake up to a note wedged halfway through your window, it’s from Robin, stating that he’s a vegan and if it’s not too much trouble could you cater to that. The same day you dump a bunch of fruit that you were never gonna eat anyway into the basket and hope it will hold over until your next trip to the store where you spend ages examining the dietary information of everything you pick up, eventually finding a couple of items you hope he’ll like.

Your efforts are appreciated because the next day you find another note from him offering his gratitude.

After the novelty has worn off it dies down, you fall into a routine; they never take too much, so you only have to top it up every few weeks. Until one morning you wake up to find it completely ransacked, your sign has been scribbled out, replaced by the words: ‘THX 4 THE SNACKS’, and a bunch of doodles. You suspect Harley Quinn since one of the drawings is her trademark 3 of diamonds.

Unsure how to proceed, you clean up the mess and bring it inside. You don’t want to attract danger, but you did enjoy doing it. The graffitied tray sits by the door for a long time while you consider what to do, more and more forgotten with each day.

That’s until there’s a knock on your balcony door in the middle of the night. Seems ominous, risky in a city like Gotham, especially after what happened with Harley, but just like that night with Red Hood, you can’t help but investigate.

When you poke your head around the curtain you find Nightwing staring back at you. He smiles and waves to you like you’re long-time friends and it does a lot to ease your shock.

“Um, hi. Can I help you?” You ask as you open the door.

“Uh, maybe, see, I came all the way from Blüdhaven cause I was told there would be snacks.” He replies, dramatically looking around your balcony as he speaks. “But there’s no snacks.”

“Yeah. I stopped after Harley Quinn vandalised it.” You gesture to the now discarded red and black tray. “But I have some chocolate, if you want some. Or do you like Cheez-Its?”

“You don’t have to do that.” He sounds disappointed.

“No it’s fine, it’s no trouble, wait here!”

You raid your kitchen before returning with a handful of snacks and drinks from your own supply and offer them Nightwing.

“Oh wow, Thanks!”

You didn’t have to, but you’re glad you did. He has such a genuinely giddy look on his face.

“Really though, we don’t do it for the free stuff, we appreciate it a lot.” He speaks between mouthfuls of M&Ms. “If you ever wanted to do it again, I wouldn’t worry about Harley. She's mostly harmless to civilians these days.”

He thanks you a few more times before leaving to finish his patrol, but not before warning; “Hey, don’t open your door for any more strangers in the middle of the night, yeah? Well, unless they’re as handsome as me.”

Harley being mostly harmless doesn’t fill you with confidence, but you figure if those guys are brave enough to risk their lives fighting crime, you can be brave enough to put a box of treats outside. This time with a new sign that reads “For Bats, birds, other vigilantes, and Harley Quinn ♥️”

You hope including her might make her less likely to lash out.

From there everything falls back into normality for a while, you even start adding seasonal treats for special occasions, until eventually, they seem to stop by less and less, perhaps they grew bored or maybe you’re not a convenient stop on their latest patrol route, you don’t really mind, you persist.

Every now and again on your days off you’ll spot signal stopping by, he always gives you a smile and a thumbs up when he sees you watching him.

After months and months, maybe a year or so it happens. The big one. You’re struggling to sleep one night, the flat just feels too hot, too claustrophobic. Overwhelmed by it you storm outside, needing the night sky and its cold air but when you get there you’re greeted by an imposing shadow of a man, Batman. He’s holding a half-drunk bottle of water and his entire body is so stock still, you’re not even sure if he’s real or a statue. After a solid minute of silent staring you quietly step back inside, count to 30, and re-emerge. He’s gone, completely dissolved into the darkness of the night with half a bottle of water and a snack pack of mint Oreos.

[pressureplus]

I need that for my comfort!🥺✨ Trans boy reader who started to have dysphoria because his hair a getting to long for his comfort. So he ask to Sebastian to help him cut them shorter, which Sebastian hesitantly agreed. Might not be the best since it’s was cut with some scissors and also because Sebastian never cut hair before. But reader is still happy with the result lol.

This is so cute

Hair and Care 101

Pairings: Sebastian Solace X TransMasc!Reader

Au: Classic

Warnings: Mentions of Gender Dysphoria

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

“And you're sure you want me to cut it? You won't do it yourself?”

“I can't exactly see the back of my head, so yes.” You sit on a stool, hands knitted together in anxiety. You'd asked Sebastian if he would be willing to cut your hair for you today. It had been, admittedly, a bit awkward to ask. He’d been flipping through files and restocking the supplies on his tail when you'd stepped into his shop. Your long hair getting in your eyes and somewhat fanning out nearly down to your hips. You hadn't had the opportunity to get it cut in so long it made your skin crawl. You felt…feminine. Way too feminine. You can't remember the last time you let your hair grow out this long and its made it really, really hard to focus on anything else. Its not just because it gets in your eyes and you can't for the life of you find a hairtie. Its deeper than that. You've started to almost flinch away from your reflections in the water and windows.

You've started to grab at your hips, at your face, poking and prodding and wondering if you can even pass with long hair. You haven't met another person besides Sebastian and the idea of being unable to see yourself the way you should. The way you know in your heart to be right. It makes you uncomfortable. You can only pinch and poke and prod for so long before your skin gets irritated. Right now, sat here, waiting for Sebastian to cut your hair? This was like your skin getting irritated. You had to debate if you were willing to even let another person cut your hair. What if they butchered it? What if it made you look worse than before? What if he fucked it up so bad you looked like one of those weird troll dolls but worse somehow? It had been your biggest worry for quite some time, until your hair got long enough that you couldn't stand it anymore.

“I feel like I should make you sign a waiver.”

“Sebastian, Im serious. Please, just cut it, I don't care if it's the worst thing ever. I can't keep walking around like this.”

“You understand my hands are too big to fit these scissors properly, right?”

“Doesnt matter, just get it done.” He sighs and grabs a collection of your long locks, specifically the one around your face. He straightens the hair to the best of his abilities using a hand so he can make the cleanest cuts he can.

“Why does this matter so much to you? Shouldn't you be, I don't know, focused on surviving? I mean paying me for a haircut seems a bit much.”

“Its…complicated.”

“How complicated can it really be?” He hums as he continues to make cuts, the sound of scissors through hair joining the sound of dripping water and Sebastian's voice. Would he even be cool about something like this? He doesn't particularly like anyone, and he's not really friendly with you either. Would he use it against you somehow? Would he get aggressive about it?

“I just feel kind of…feminine, and it makes me uncomfortable.” You mutter and this only gets a chuckle, sounding condescending.

“Oh, Expendable, long hair doesn't make you any less of a man. Don't be ridiculous.”

“I just don't like it.”

“Look, all I'm saying is, you could have bought a medkit instead of a haircut. If its this important than fine. Who am I to tell you how to spend your collected data?”

“Whether it makes me more of a man or not, is it wrong of me to not like feeling…” You trail off, and all at once, Sebastian tenses mid cut.

“Oh…thats what this is about.” His tone softens up a bit, the mild poking he had been doing immediately being cut out as he carries on cutting your hair.

“This isn't too stupid of a purchase, I guess.” He adds on.

“Yeah?” You ask as he finishes up, putting the scissors to the side and ruffling your hair to get any loose strands out.

“Yeah. Go take a look,” he motions towards the water so you can see yourself in the reflection. You peer down into it curiously and immediately your shoulders relax. You hadn't even realized you'd been tense. Your hairs a bit choppy, admittedly, but its not ugly or particularly butchered by any means. He was oddly thoughtful and careful about taking care of your hair for you. Even saying it was ridiculous to spend your data on, he didn't ruin it for you on purpose.

“Its good, you did a good job.”

“Yeah, well, I'm sure if you keep coming to me I'll get better every time.”

“Im sure you will, then.” You give him a smile and he kind of awkwardly smiles back for a moment. A bit of hesitation as you grab the keycard off his desk and put your swimming gear back on now that its dry.

“Wait.”

“Ah- Yes Sebastian?” You turn, concerned about what he might say. He's not stupid and you're certain he's figured you out by now. If he doesn't like it, there's nothing he can do about it sure but you always tense when people get all awkward around you. He hesitates a moment longer before giving you a little wave.

“You look better with short hair anyway.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, I do…now go on and get out of here. I've got other Expendables to deal with and a mess of hair to clean.”

[iateyourparents]

cherry lips | c.b.

pairing: colby brock x fem!reader

summary: colby was sure you changed something but he just couldn’t pinpoint what exactly.

warnings: bad writing and grammar(i’m sorry, english is not my first language)

pictures are from pinterest:)

Colby knew you changed something.

But couldn’t tell what.

He was observing you all day and he was sure it wasn’t your hair, perfumes or something in make up.

It was making him irritated that he couldn’t pinpoint what it was but he also didn’t want to ask you in fear it was some big change and you would feel upset he didn’t notice that.

Currently you both were laying in bed, you were reading something on your phone while he was continuing observing you.

Finally you were done with this “Colby, love, you know I don’t have anything against you looking at me but now you are like a creep. Since morning and it’s nine pm now. What’s going on?”

“Oh I’m sorry babe.” you could see faint red creeping onto his cheeks and ears, he didn’t thought it might look so weird “It’s just…You changed something, didn’t you?”

You furrowed your brows. “What? I didn’t, why?”

This time he was the one surprised.

“No? I swear there’s something new but I just can’t say what.” he whined and you laughed kissing his nose.

“The only new thing is my lipbalm, they didn’t have the coconut one so I bought cherry one.” you said and Colby narrowed his eyebrows looking at your lips.

Before you could say another word he grabbed back of your neck and pulled you into a kiss. And after a kiss he licked your bottom lip making you laugh.

“I didn’t think of it but it’s the change I noticed.” he stated “I think I liked the previous one better, It tasted like rafaello.”

You only laughed at his words but he was right, it in fact did tasted like rafaello.

“When I will go to the mall tomorrow I will see if they restocked them.” you promised and Colby smiled widely in answer and then kissed you again.

“Does they have any others flavors?” he asked moments later.

“Mhm, I’m pretty sure that they also have watermelon, honey, peach and mint ones.” you told him and he hummed quietly.

“We should bought all of them and see if I can say which flavor is which just from your lips.” he offered with mischievous smirk and you only laughed in answer and then pecked his lips.

[murdockparker]

Promises, Promises

Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Five years is a long time to be together, Peter knew that. Peter also knew that everything was expensive—but he had an idea. A little juvenile, sure, but it was an idea regardless.

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: mentions of sex (no smut), reader is a nerd, Star Wars hot take?

A/N: I haven't written for Peter in a hot second, but I'm glad to get back into the swing of things ;) i'll see myself out now

An old pop song blasted through the small shop, possibly from the eighties or nineties, it was hard to decipher, given that the boombox playing the song was probably older than she was.

“Do you need more toilet paper?” She asked across the aisle, hoping someone would answer back—a certain someone in particular. 

“Nah,” she could see a mop of brown shake from over the packages, “I just bought some last week.”

“Peter, if you’re lying to me and you’re out of toilet paper again I swear on all that is holy—”

“Babe,” Peter said softly, peaking around the corner, “trust me. It’s not gonna be like last time.”

“Oh? You mean the time I was stranded on your toilet while you ran out to buy some more?” She nearly had laughed at the memory, but decided against it, having far more fun antagonizing her boyfriend. “That last time?”

He went positively crimson, from his neck to his ears. He always looked good in red, she thought, but she liked this red the best. “I am one thousand percent positive—I think I still have the receipt in my back pocket.”

“You said you bought some last week though? You haven’t washed those jeans yet?”

Peter shrugged. “I haven’t worn these that many times since last week…”

She laughed at that, pulling a bag of chips off of the shelf. Changing her mind, she pulled another as well—her favorite and his favorite. “Okay pretty boy, I believe you. I also believe we’ll be making a stop to the laundromat tonight, too.”

“Can we do it tomorrow?” Peter groaned, grabbing the snacks from her and holding them close. “I’m not in the mood tonight.”

“Obviously you haven’t been in the mood for a week,” she rolled her eyes. “But sure, we can go tomorrow. Tonight, we feast like twelve year olds and binge our favorite movies.”

“How did I get so lucky?” Peter sighed, leaning up against the shelf, eyes locked on her. “A pretty girl willing to watch Star Wars, eat cheese puffs and date me?”

“Don’t forget the hot, hot sex you’ll have with the pretty girl after,” she winked, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “Speaking of—”

“Restocked those too,” Peter said proudly. “Bought them with the toilet paper—could show you the receipt if you want. Bet you’re glad I held onto it, right?”

She pushed him away, her nose scrunched up in disgust. “I take the offer of sex back, I’m still not over those dirty jeans.”

“I’ll shower!”

“Just buy the snacks,” she laughed, shoving him towards the cashier. “I’ll rethink my offer in the meantime.”

“Aye aye, boss,” Peter saluted, turning hot on his heels to the front. She couldn’t help but smile, watching him laugh with the bodega owner, pulling crumpled bills out of his pockets and pressing them against the counter. There was hardly anything that Peter Parker could do that she didn’t find endearing—find something to smile about. 

“Local news tonight, late last night in Manhattan, our favorite web slinger was seen assisting with directing traffic during the power surge,” a reporter on the T.V. in the corner of the store announced, the screen showed Spider-Man waving traffic along, webbing a car to stop before it crashed into another oncoming vehicle. “Local authorities showed up minutes later to take over, sans-webs.”

“Huh,” she clicked, feeling her smile grow wider. “He's been spending time in Manhattan?”

“Spider-Man gets around town,” Peter shrugged, finally returning beside his girlfriend, their purchases in white plastic bags. “Can’t always stay in Queens, can he?”

“Helps if Spider-Man goes to school in Manhattan, no?” She teased quietly, elbowing Peter lovingly.

“He had time after class,” his voice matched her own, low and slow, opening the door and finally walking out onto the street. “What? Was he expected to let everyone crash their cars while the stoplights went out?”

“No,” she hummed, noticing quickly how Peter took the outside of their strides, closest to the street. He always did that. The notion warmed her heart, the feeling flooding to her toes. “Good thing he was there to help out. I’m sure the police were thankful.”

He snorted. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Okay,” she conceded, head falling onto his shoulder. “Yeah, that was dumb to say.”

The rest of the walk was silent, as silent as it could get in New York City, anyhow. Comfortable, the beats of the city passing by with every step towards Peter’s apartment, hands intertwined with the other. Occasionally, he’d tug her back and stop her from stepping into the street, clearly knowing she’s not paying attention to the changing pedestrian signs. She’d squeeze his hand back in thanks. 

“Have you thought more about moving in?” Peter asked, trying his best to unlock the door to his apartment, wrists heavy from the bags. “Y’know, I’m sure I can get you added to the lease if I asked.”

“Thought about it,” she hummed, gently taking the bags from him. “I just… your place is a bit small.”

“What?” He scoffed, finally pushing the door open and allowing her to enter. “You’re saying this luxurious suite is too small?”

It was comical, the timing of his statement. She could hardly turn her neck and she’d get a full view of Peter’s apartment—minus the bathroom. He could only afford a studio, and even then it was bursting at the seams, with all of his school work, his work work and his ‘unofficial’ work work, the place was a mess. He tried his best to keep it tidy, he really did. It was never filthy, just overrun by stuff. 

“Babe, you’re growing out of your own space,” she laughed, double checking she locked the door behind them—it had a habit of sticking. “How’d you think I’d fit in here?”

“Preferably on my lap, or in my bed,” he smirked. “But… yeah, I guess you’re right. It’s a little cramped.”

“It’s not that I don’t love you, or love spending time here,” (Y/N) clarified. “Hell, you’d think after all these years I’d have moved on if that was the case.”

“Has it been that long?” He asked rhetorically, opening the bags in the kitchen—if you could call it that. 

“I won’t even pretend to act insulted you’ve forgotten how long we’ve been together, Parker.”

“Time flies when you’re in love,” Peter nearly sings. “Five years is a long time, feels like just yesterday I was nervously asking you out.”

“I asked you out,” she corrected. “I know, I know, five years and a hell of a lot of brain damage from crime fighting can make you misremember—”

“No way,” he scoffed. “I distinctly remember sliding a note in your locker between classes. Super cute, very sappy, I might add.”

She hopped up on his counter, with what little space he had free, anyway. “Did you? You seem to be forgetting how I pulled you aside after science class and, very confidently, I might add, asked you out for milkshakes after school.”

“That was the day I left you the note,” Peter blinked. “I just assumed you read it and were moving the process along.”

“Wait,” she barked a laugh. “I thought you left the note after I asked you out?”

“Nope,” he popped the ‘p’. “Left it for you that morning, chemistry wasn’t until after lunch.”

“Huh,” she breathed, shoulders deflating. “I guess we both asked each other out on the same day.”

“Can’t believe it took us five years to figure that out,” Peter laughed, patting her thigh. 

“Knowing us? I’m surprised it didn’t take us ten.”

Ten years.

Ten years with her. 

The thought alone made Peter buzz with happiness. 

“We’re both pretty smart people,” Peter squeaked out, fighting his own body, hoping and praying a childish blush won’t give him away. “We would’ve figured it out before then.”

“I dunno, seems unlikely,” she opened a bag of chips, impatient to start their evening. “What are we starting with tonight? Phantom Menace?”

“We started with Phantom Menace last time, chronological order,” he scrunched his nose. “I think we should go by release order this weekend, just to shake things up.”

“Okay, nerd,” she said, her voice filled with affection. Hopping off the counter, she walked towards his couch. “I’ll go get A New Hope set up, then. You plate the snacks.”

“I’ll pull out my finest china,” Peter said. He opened the cabinets to find two bowls, one for each of the bags of chips. They were mismatched and two totally different sizes, but they were free from the old neighbors, so he made do.

“Y’know, I don’t think the debate between release order versus chronological order is all that great,” (Y/N) said, mostly to herself. “I mean, there’s a thousand other things Star Wars fans can get caught up in arms in, but the order in which to watch the movies? Oh no, someone man the Reddit boards! What a crock of shit. It doesn’t matter anyway, they’re all good movies.”

He chuckled, clearly amused by his girlfriend’s rant. “All of them? That’s a controversial opinion.”

“If I had a good time watching it, it was a good movie,” (Y/N) said simply. “Not everyone’s a critic.”

“Clearly.”

“Do you not agree?”

“I agreed the last time we had this conversation,” Peter droned, though not bored in the slightest. “Though, I will admit, I was perhaps a bit distracted, on account of your nakedness.”

“Our pillow talk gets heated,” she said, no hint of shame in her voice. “Only intellectual conversations afterwards, to ground us and all after… everything.”

“Because the sex is that good?”

“Because the sex is that good,” she agreed.

“Maybe I should plan that shower soon,” he grinned, walking over to his loving girlfriend. “Delay our marathon…”

“I didn’t walk all the way here just for sex, you know,” (Y/N) hummed, the couch shifting at Peter’s added weight. “An added bonus, for sure, but I came here to pig out and watch silly little movies set in space with my pretty boyfriend.”

“Pretty boyfriend?” 

“The prettiest,” she giggled, slipping a kiss to the tip of his nose. It’s not her fault he has such a kissable face—lips, cheeks, nose, wherever. “Big doe eyes, loads of freckles, smoochy cheeks—”

“Which ones?”

A pillow—one she had bought him months ago—met his face with a quick thump. “You’re impossible.”

“Impossibly smoochable,” Peter giggled, feeling lighter than air. “You said so yourself.”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice all thick and lovey, “I know.”

Peter looked at her like she held the world in her hands, sitting beside him on his old couch—one that they had both moved up the stairs together two years ago—he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. Everything was right in the world, everything was right in his heart. 

“Are you gonna press play?”

He shook his head a bit, dumping his lovesick thoughts out of his ears. “Oh! Yeah, right. The movie.”

She pulled a blanket up on them, snuggling closer to Peter as the opening fanfare begun to play. With the text scrolling on the screen, one he hardly needed to read to know what it said given his near-memorization of the film, he felt at peace.

—

Mindlessly scrolling on his phone, it was usually how he spent his mornings, to wake himself up. He knew about the studies with blue light and stimulation of that sort of activity and wakefulness—having heard it enough from the party beside him, but he didn’t seem to care.

Apartment listings. 

She was right, his studio was too small for the both of them, and it was only fitting if they were going to start a life together—living with one another—that they had ample space. Besides, they were graduating within the year anyhow, so location wasn’t terribly important. In the city would be nice, given his… other occupation, but he could get used to living outside of Manhattan again. It was quieter, usually, and only by a small percent. Cheaper, too. Thank God for his scholarships, he wouldn’t have made it very far without them. 

She stirred next to him, pulling his comforter mostly off of him. He didn’t need it right now, anyway. Not when she was sleeping so soundly. He craved these weekends, when they both had a break from school and work—most of the time anyway. Peter Parker knew in his heart of hearts that he needed this every day. Perhaps forever. 

Forever.

That seemed so out of reach five years ago, but now? Peter simply couldn’t see a life without her in it. With their hectic schedules, his being all-encompassing, marriage was out of the question, at least for a few years. That’s why the apartment was so important to him, a piece of forever within their grasp. 

“Maybe…” Peter sighed, clicking his phone off, afraid to breathe louder than necessary. 

She didn’t seem to wake, anyhow. 

—

“Why do weekends here go by so fast?”

“At the laundromat?”

(Y/N) gave him a knowing glance. “Yes, Pete, weekends fly by here at the laundromat.”

“Come on,” Peter laughed, stacking his jeans—fresh out of the dryer. “It’s not so bad. They have those magazines you like.”

“Magazines from years ago—”

“There was that one from the eighties you found two months ago,” Peter pointed. “Stuck under one of the dryers?”

She smiled at the memory. “True. That was kinda fun. Seeing all the dated hairstyles and outfits was a treat. But you knew what I meant, use that big brain of yours.”

“It probably has something to do with the fact we like spending time with one another,” Peter began, patting the top of his laundry pile. “Y’know, makes the time go by faster.”

“Maybe,” she sighed. “I mean, logically, that’s probably the answer.”

“Logically? As opposed to illogically?”

“I could shove a sock down your throat right now, Parker,” she said seriously, holding up a balled up blue sock of his. “No one here would stop me. So cut it out with the smart ass-ness.”

Peter snorted a laugh. “Such a scary girlfriend I have, threatening me with socks.”

“Maybe instead of kryptonite like Superman, your weakness is socks? I need to capitalize on that venture before anyone else does,” she said, throwing the sock into the laundry basket. “Once I crack that code, I can sell it to all the big baddies of New York.”

“And maybe with all of the money you make, we could invest in a place for us,” Peter said.

“A house on the water,” she said dreamily. “Four bedrooms, an office—maybe one for both of us? Oh! An open kitchen sounds nice too, one with stone counters and fancy wood cabinets—real wood, not particle board. One of those farmhouse sinks?”

“If you share Spider-Man’s one weakness to all the big baddies of New York, don’t you think you’d have a hard time sharing a life with him after?” Peter asked, the sounds of the machines drowning out their conversation well enough. They practically had the whole place to themselves anyway, it seemed safe enough to talk about. “You know, considering that the spider is likely dead?”

“Hm…” she tapped her chin. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“We could start with an apartment, first,” Peter chuckled, throwing bits of his laundry basket into the washer. “I was looking at listings—”

“I thought you wanted me to move into your place?”

“We need a place of our own,” Peter said. “You were right, my studio isn’t going to cut it, and I want to spend more time together. Our weekends are the best time of the week, and any night I spend with you is a night where I actually get some semblance of sleep—for the most part, anyway.”

The entire laundromat lit up, Peter was certain her smile was the culprit. 

“You were looking at listings?” She asked shyly, digging through the basket to help Peter load the washer. 

“Most of it was out of our budget,” he admitted, “but it was a start.”

She hummed in agreement. “We’ll look together tonight, then.”

“Sounds perfect,” Peter grinned. “Oh! Could you double check my pockets? I keep forgetting change and stuff in them.”

“What about old receipts?” (Y/N) giggled, obliging to his request. She pulled a pair of khakis out of the basket, gingerly fishing her hand in the pockets. “I think I’m entitled to any change I find, Parker.”

“You can have whatever you find,” Peter agreed, his voice a little shaky. 

Turning the back pockets inside out, she found nothing in the first pair, throwing it unceremoniously into the washer. With a bit more haste, she rifled through the second pair—the pair she had bought him a while back. Her fingers came across something round and cool. Change, it had to be. 

“I think I just became twenty five cents richer,” she laughed, pulling the item out of the pocket, expecting a quarter. Instead, it was a smooth ring, delicate and without any stones, but still elegant. “What…?”

“It’s not a house on the water,” Peter started, looking down at the ring in her hands. “It’s also not a new apartment, but it’s a start, right?”

“Peter Parker, if you’re proposing to me in a laundromat—”

“It’s also not a proposal,” he corrected, “I’m gonna get you a better ring for that, I promise. Besides, it’s not very romantic here, is it?”

She looked up at him, his eyes staring into her own. Big and beautiful, that’s what she always thought of his eyes. Like they held the answer to every question in the universe, and in a way, they did. “It’s a promise ring?”

He shrugged, his ears growing a bit pink. “When you say it like that it sounds a little… middle school, but in a way, yeah, it is a promise ring.”

“Girls my age are expecting engagement rings,” she said, looking back down at the ring in her hand. It was her size, she didn’t even need to try it on to know it. How did he figure out her ring size? 

“I promise baby,” Peter stepped towards her, grabbing her hand, closing her fingers around the ring. “I’m gonna get you that ring. I just thought it’d be nice to have something to wear on your finger in the meantime—before we do real adult things like move in together. A-and this way, you can help me pick out your real engagement ring! I have a really good idea of what you like, but I don’t ever want you to look down at your hand and thing ‘man, I wish Peter chose this instead of this’, you know?”

“Honey,” (Y/N) said, looking back up at him. “You’re rambling.”

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I’m nervous.”

She chuckled. “How do you expect yourself to actually propose if you can hardly give me a promise ring?”

“Hadn’t thought that far,” Peter shook his head. “But it’s for you, I’m willing to do anything for you.”

He meant that. 

She knew he meant that.

“Am I supposed to put it on myself?”

Peter quickly scrambled to open her hand to grab the ring from her, nearly dropping the thing. “You want to wear it?”

“My boyfriend got me a pre-engagement ring,” she nearly rolled her eyes. “You expect me not to wear it?”

He pushed the ring onto her left hand, fourth finger. Peter gently lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it lovingly. “I promise, you’ll get a better ring from me one day. S-soon! Like, as soon as I have the money, I swear to it, honestly.”

“Pete,” she placed her now-ring-clad hand on his face. 

“Right,” his shoulders deflated, “rambling. Sorry.”

She kissed his cheek. “It’s all very sweet and very you, Peter Parker. I love it.”

A dryer alarm buzzed, startling the both of them. “You do?”

“Well, I love you, and that’s enough,” (Y/N) smiled. “Besides, I like the idea of wearing a ring you got me—and the idea of helping you pick out the real thing? That basically sold the idea for me.”

“You’d say yes if I asked?”

“I agreed to your pre-engagement engagement ring, did I not? You’re not losing me that easily, Peter. I’m gonna hold out for the real thing.”

“We’ll go ring shopping as soon as we find a place,” Peter said seriously. “Move in, graduate, all that.”

“You’ve thought this through.”

“A lot,” Peter agreed. “Sometimes it helps to fill the time when I’m swinging around town. I usually am thinking about you, anyway, anytime of day.”

“That’s so crazy,” she said, voice teetering on sarcastic. “Because I’m usually thinking about you, too.”

“Pretty crazy,” he smiled, pulling her into him. With careful hands, he lifted her face towards his, a silent invitation. One she was more than happy to respond to. 

Kissing Peter Parker was one of life’s greatest pleasures, she was sure of it. Granted, she had really never kissed anyone else, high school sweethearts and all of that, but she knew it really couldn’t get better than this. The slightly chapped kisses, the way he would lick his lips when they parted, how he would nip at her bottom lip in protest if she thought about stopping the kiss too soon—it was all perfect. Of course, kissing in a slightly shady laundromat was a bit of a turn off. 

“Pete,” she said, pulling back.

“Can I not kiss my girlfriend?” He nearly begged, holding her against him a bit tighter. 

“I can’t be your girlfriend,” she said seriously. “I mean, not with this flashy new ring and all—seems a bit juvenile with that title, no?”

“What do you suggest?”

“Partners,” she shrugged, feeling him pepper kisses against her cheek, her nose. “It seems more grown up, anyway. Now, when I go into class or work and they comment on my ring I can say, ‘oh, my partner got me that’.”

“Babe, I’m your partner in anything,” he laughed, pressing his forehead against her own. “If you’d like to change our terms of endearment—I’m all aboard.”

“It’d only be for a short while, anyway,” (Y/N) said, smirking against his lips, capturing them in another kiss. “Then I can call you my fiancé…”

“Romantic.”

“Then my husband,” she teased. 

“Oh I do like the sound of that,” Peter nodded. “(Y/N) Parker has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

“What about Peter (Y/L/N)?” (Y/N) asked, quirking her brow. “You could be progressive.”

“We could hyphenate?”

“Nah,” she shook her head. “Parker is a fine last name. A little basic, but perfectly suitable.”

“We’re kinda basic people, are we not?” Peter chuckled.

“Let me just go and ask your friend Spider-Man that,” she said seriously. “I’m sure he’d disagree?”

“Oh, speaking of!” Peter stepped away from her. “I need to wash… well, y’know—”

“It’s already soaking in the sink back at your place,” she said simply. “Trying to get all the dried blood off of it and all.”

Peter’s eyes nearly melted in affection. “What would I ever do without you?”

She smiled back in kind, a lovesick sort of way. “Not your laundry, that’s for sure. Come on, Parker, we’ve gotta finish this load. Sooner we’re done, the sooner we can go home.”

A rogue ray of sunlight hit her new ring just right, making the band shine brightly against her hand as she continued to throw his dirty clothing into the washing machine. “Yeah, let’s finish this up,” he said softly. “Let’s go home.”

[urperfectcinnamonroll07]

Period Tracker

requested?: no pairing(s): kim mingyu x afab!gn!reader genre: fluff, mentions of sex (not full detail) warning(s): mentions of periods, reader is said to have periods, but there is no specific gender summary: 𝘯/𝘢 word count: 619 a/n: lemme know if you want a full fic with the last scenario;). im trying to get things done because i'm gonna take a small (yeah right) break bc im going to spain soon and i dont rlly wanna take my laptop over th border and i dont have word on my phone lol. either way, i will try my hardest to get things done before i go, i will be giving you updates as i go, telling you when i will be gone and when i will most likely be back yk. make sure to eat and drink something, love yas, mwah! part two is HERE

mingyu is like your little personal period tracker

like

you need to know when your period is and you reach for your phone?

no need

mingyu is there to save the day

he KNOWS when your ovulating

and he knows how to get under your skin while you are

(black compress shirt and grey sweats)

and it works

your surprised you’re not pregnant by now

the amount of times you have both fucked when you were ovulating

its unhealthy

but brilliant exercise

either way

a few days before your period, he gets tons of snacks

and i mean TONS

cupboard doors are practically falling off with how much he bought

he also restocks your period supplies

like tampons, pads pantie liners, etc

and painkillers

he also makes sure you’re comfortable when you are on your period

like

he makes sure you have all of your stuffed animals, blankets, etc

makes sure he massages your stomach

helps with your cramps

strokes your sides with his knuckles when you are falling asleep

runs you a hot bath with scented candles, bath bombs, bubbles and everything

sits with you in it aswell

washes your hair

he doesn’t let you move whatsoever

like

you need to get up to get some painkillers

don’t fear, mingyu will go get them for you

he will only let you get up to move if its to change your pad/tampon

literally never would piss you off either

he knows your limits yk

he’s very careful in what he says

a few days before your period, you started cramping. you were about to go grab your phone which you left in the kitchen. you were literally so close to tapping on the app that would track your period when a certain someone came up behind you.

“you’re gonna start in two days” you didn’t trust him initially, but since you then forgot which app you were going on your phone for, you nodded and walked away, heavily doubting that you would.

but here you were, two days later, waking up to the most excruciating cramps you had ever had. you looked down, and alone behold, your perfect white sheets were now stained red with your blood. you groaned and flopped back down into a lying position when the man himself, kim mingyu, came in with two plates, both filled with your favourite breakfast.

“i told you you would start today baby” he mused, handing you a plate, which you accepted with a mutter of a thanks.

a week later, your period had ended and you were close to ovulating, which mingyu always knew. the circles on the calander told you so. and here you were, just coming downstairs from what you would call the best nap of your life, when something caught your eye.

or rather, someone. he was stood in the corner of the kitchen, facing you. he didn’t look up from his phone as you entered, rubbing your eyes and yawning, until you turned to him.

“had a good nap?” he says over the top of his phone.

your jaw almost hit the floor, your eyes practically popping out of your sockets as you took him in. his hair was wet from the shower he must have had not long ago, when you were asleep. he was wearing a black compress shirt which showed off his thick muscly arms, which paired perfectly with his grey sweats. you just KNEW he had no boxers on underneath as you could see his length perfectly through the material. you groaned into your hands, he looked up from his phone and looked down at you.

“you can’t do that, i’m ovulating” you whine, mingyu just smirks.

“oh i know baby”

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Okay bestie listen here.

So bale!bruce wayne being stubborn and not letting you pay for ANYTHING. Literally spoiling the f- out of you. And the only thing he asks in return is your love. Just wanting to be loved and cherished by you!

you can do this WHENEVER you are free and feel like it, don't rush yourself bestie.

Okay ly!

You got the ol' gears turning, you did.

IT'S HERE <3

I have so many ideas how this could go, and I can't make up my mind. My head is this close to exploding omfg

It's in the works and it's gonna be good

Enjoy some rambly thoughts on this, in the meantime <3

◇He would totally take out every card and all the change in your wallet and replace it with his, so when you go to pay, you have no choice but to use his.

◇When he's out with you, he quickly swipes his card through the machine before you can even get yours out. You managed to catch him off guard one time, but by the time you were home, all the money you spent was already back in your account.

◇This man will literally pay for his own birthday present. He will do anything to stop you from paying for absolutely anything. You want new clothes? No problem. Expensive jewelry? Pfft, that's nothing. You're out, restocking your shampoos and other beauty products? He's got his card out and ready. He probably bought the whole store, to be honest. Forgot to get some ingredients for a meal you're cooking? He purchased the whole stock. He would spend his entire fortune on potatoes if they were for you.

◇God forbid it's your birthday. He will make it rain presents. Literally. One year, he made it rain diamonds. Actual, real diamonds. You have no idea how he pulled that off, but they got fucking everywhere. Alfred still complains about finding them to this day while cleaning.

◇He would fuck the ever living daylights out of you, clad in nothing but the expensive jewelry that he bought for you.

I'm working on a full fic, and it's gonna be scrumptious <3 ilyt Bestie!!

[dontbelasagnax]

*curling like a cat against your ankles* Lasaganie, more Codywan headcanons?? 🥺👉👈 (only if you gave them/want to share of course. thank you, you’re amazing and I love you :3c)

I am late but I come bearing gifts in the shape of the codywan headcanons you asked for!!! And I love you too 🫶

- In a no order 66 setting, Obi-Wan has a caf mug that he considers to be Cody's. This would be normal except Obi-Wan bought it during the war and always meant to find the occasion to give it to him but never got around to it. That's to say he's exceedingly normal about this cup. Especially when Cody starts spending time around his apartment and Obi-Wan serves him caf in it. For the first time. Then all the other times as well. Feeling his heart crack open seeing Cody with His Designated Mug. A mug Obi-Wan's perhaps had too much time to place too much sentimental value onto. He's perfectly normal about it and doesn't act weird at all.

(more headcanons under the cut. it's a bit long)

- Cody is a hopeless romantic but won't ever admit it. He loves romance novels and holofilms. From trashy to highly acclaimed, sweet to stuffed with depravity, he enjoys them all. They're just a spot of escapism for him. A fantastical tale to distract himself from the toll of war when the night cycle is quiet and grief is loud. The stories are all so wildly outlandishly unrealistic to him. He's a clone. There's no future for him outside his role in the war effort.

And then one fateful campaign they're on their feet for a full tenday before they encounter an outcropping with flora and fauna that, finally, aren't actively trying to kill them and they are able to set up a tentative base of operation while planetside.

General Kenobi insists everyone rest while they can. Cody lost his bedroll to some sort of carnivorous plant along the way. General Kenobi acts like it's an affront to his very livelihood when Cody tries to sleep on the ground of their shared tent. Cody is tired. He doesn't have the energy to fight back on something so stupid. Which means they have to share a bedroll. His general's bedroll. Where they're physically incapable of both laying on the little mat unless they're plastered together. Cuddling.

It's the best sleep of his life.

...Exactly like how the romance novels describe it.

He's not dumb. He's been aware that he's in love with his general. He just thought the romance novels were all embellishing to a ridiculous degree and none of it was actually... realistic.

But if the romance novels are right about this, what else is just as magical in reality?

And maybe, just maybe, could there be some hope for a glimmer of a chance for him to pursue something else with Obi-Wan after the war, if they both make it that far?

- I am fully of the belief that, in a Tatooine husbands setting, the husband bit is a complete accident. Ben is stopping by for a quick pantry restock at the Pica Oaisis marketplace when it happens. He's lived at his hut long enough for the vendors here to have a familiarity with him so it's not exactly a surprise when one says to him, "Who's the shadow of a fella that's hangin' with you lately?" They mean well, he knows. And still, it's his business. He thinks his answer is quite crafty.

He says, "He's my partner," and leaves it at that. Partner could mean anything. Alas, either an older man living in an isolated hut with another older man implies a particular thing about their relationship or the vendors have a flair for the romantic because he quickly comes to discover on his next trips to the marketplace that he has a husband. Of all the assumptions one could make, it's certainly the most harmless and... he finds he likes it. Being seen as Cody's husband. It's all awfully embarrassing and he doesn't dare tell Cody any of it.

Cody discovers it for himself a few weeks later on a solo trip to the market to pick up some feed for Rooh.

"Here to do your husband's bidding?" a vendor asks and Cody blinks.

He blinks again. "Come again?" he says.

"Ben your husband; you're running his errand?"

His first instinct is to correct them, tell them he and Ben aren't married. But how would he even begin describe their relationship? After a few seconds deliberating he decides he's better off going with it. What harm could it do? Besides, on the ride home, he finds he kind of likes it.

And that's how they become husbands. Well, the beginning of it, anyhow.

[lov3rmir]

★ ° * . ` red lipstick smudge `

★ ° ` summary ` after buying a new brand of lipstick, you couldn't decide which you liked best. so you asked for assistance.. ★ ° .

★ * ` mail ` a little ooc alhaithem but not too much, got lazy at the end but i love this <3

AL-HAITHAM—

The acting grand sage was drowning in his work. The pile of paper seemingly never ending, it didn't help he haven't seen you in a while. al haitham missed your scent, the calming yet fresh scent you always wore. The more he thought of you, the more his desire to see you grows. Alas, his duties calls yet again.

You however, had a much more troublesome duty. You had bought two lipsticks, one of which nilou recommended you and another which you had waited for its restock. Now that you had saved up and could afford both, you didn't know what to wear first. It was a dilemma of utmost importance, but you had no one to help you with.

Nilou was busy with the rehearsals, candace was too far to just ask about a lipstick and dehya was off somewhere. You couldn't find the traveler either, nor kaveh. So you decided on your trust worthy lover, The Acting Grand Sage.

Saying hello to the guards, you showed them the permission slips alhaithem gave you if you wanted to visit. This was much easier than to have to go through a whole line. Knocking softly on the doors, his voice invited you in.

“ come in. ” here he was, buried in a pile of paperwork, you almost missed him if his strand of hair wasn't stickin out from his grave. “ busy aren't you? ”

You voice made him look up, for a moment he thought he thought he was imagining it. Maybe all those numbers and words formed his desire and there you stood. But he knew better, that blinding smile can never be mistaken for fake.

He smiled at you, “ what brings you here? ” he asks. You walk over to him showing him the two items who made your hair turn grey. “ I'm having trouble deciding. Can you help, oh Grand Sage? ”

“ Acting Grand Sage. There's a difference. ” he frowned, this made you chuckle, ” yes, yes. Can you help me? Acting Grand Sage? ” he huffed, nodding to you.

You sat where there was space on his desk, smiling and showing him the two different lipstick. “ I'm having second thoughts on which i should use first. Do you think you can help me? ” you tilted your head. Al-haitham stared at you becore taking one of the two you held. He kept staring at it for a good while, you started sweating.

“ turn around. ” you blinked. “ what? ”

“ i said turn around. I have an idea. ” you knew he didn't like repeating himself, so you did as told. “ i dont get why i need to turn around. ” he stayed silent. It wasn't until a moment later you taped you on the shoulder.

Turning around you were about to question him when you felt his lips on yours. They lstayed there for a while, al-haitham had your eyes covered by his hand. And you knew, he definitely felt the redness on his hands. You could feel the smirk he had.

Before long, he stood back. A smile on his face. “ this one suits you best. ” you didn't understand what he meant until he wiped some smudge off his lip. Realization struck you. He wore your lipstick. And he—

Your face heated up. Words failing to form a sentence, you nodded and toke the lipstick. Walking away in a daze. Al-haitham watched you stumble a few time before reaching the door. He called out “ Leave your schedule open tomorrow, I'll have a reservation ready. Wear the lipstick too. Unless you want me to hel— ”

“ NO! Thank you! See you tomorrow! ” you left in a hurry, your face now hotter than ever. Everyone gave you look but ignored you. This isn't the first time you came out of the Acting Grand Sage all flustered.

Al-haitham however, was in his desk. A new found determination to finish all his work before your date. The lipstick still present on his lips.

©— lov3rmir. 2023.

★— @elychee * @eenie-teenieweenie * @simplyxsinned ...★

[sushiwriterhere]

foggy

summary: "Perhaps most tantalizing of all were his glasses–their lenses were lightly fogged, but you could still almost see his wide eyes behind them."  rating: explicit (18+ mdni) pairing: bob floyd x f!reader word count: ~2.9k warnings: idiots pining, car sex (lol), hangman being hangman, no use of y/n.  notes: Inspired by me thinking about Bob's glasses getting all fogged up. y'all i wish i could apologize for this but all i can think abt is this man and how someone once said they wanna chew on him like a polly pocket.. anyways please let me know what you think ! no beta we die like men tagging: @sebsxphia @theharddeck - tagging ppl either by request or whom i feel like luv bob soooo pls let me know if you'd like to be added/removed

You were usually far more behaved than this, really. You paid attention in your classes, did your work, showed up on time to your job–kept it all together. But there was something about him, about Bob, that just made that tiny part of you want to be reckless. And he had no idea. 

There he was, along with the rest of the group like every Friday, sitting and watching them play pool. They’d hoot and holler, order drink after drink, and he’d sit and laugh along with his peanuts and his Shirley Temples or lemonades. And it made you want to jump his bones.

It was a smidge ironic that as a bartender his non-alcoholic drink choices were part of what got you going, but what could you say? A man of multitudes and contradictions was appealing, and Bob was just that. Best weapons system operator around, shy as all hell, and damn smart. He always tipped generously, never put his phone on the bar, and had interrupted more than one creep on a mission to try and ruin your Friday night (flirting is for tips, not for keeps!). 

But any time you tried to move it past your brief interactions, he always slipped away. You figured it wasn’t necessarily on purpose— he seemed to be friendly otherwise, just probably not interested. So you resigned yourself to the occasional small chat when making drinks or he came in while the Hard Deck was a bit less noisy—and ever so often, finishing while imagining just what it would feel like to have his body pressed up against yours. 

And this Friday began like every other. You came in right as lunch ended, and busied yourself with prepping more limes than you ever wanted to see again in your life. There were glasses to be stacked, napkins and straws to be refilled, and liquors to be restocked. Patrons would start trickling in around 5 or 6, with the majority starting to filter in around 8, clearly coming from dinner or work. By 9, the Hard Deck would be packed to the brim with fighter pilots and other people from the nearby base. 

Your favorite fighter pilots would make it in at 8:45 pm every Friday, like clockwork. They’d take over the pool table with a direct eyeline to the bar, and stay till the early hours of the morning, sometimes till closing. Rooster usually bought the first round if the weather was nice, Hangman would when the weather was shit. More than once you’d tried to discern a pattern beyond that, but they seemed to have some sort of system. 

Bob would always buy his own drinks. 

He’d make his way to the bar, smiling gently at you and waiting patiently while you fielded other customers. Then he’d place his drink order and ask for a refill on his cup of peanuts, and stand there humming something to himself while you poured him a drink. Tips came in cash, straight into your palms and always paired with a soft smile that made your knees weak and your pulse hammer.

Tonight was no different. He ordered his lemonade and handed you cash with a warm smile before returning to what appeared to be an increasingly hostile and heated game of pool. Sitting on the sidelines, he seemed to just be content observing the madness. 

When Hangman approached the bar during a momentary lull, you expected it to be for another round. Except he leaned over the counter conspiratorially, and crooked a finger at you to beckon you closer. 

“I have a secret to tell you, only it’s not really a secret.” He had a coy smile on his face like he was about to tell you he’d taken a cookie from the cookie jar. 

You really wanted to roll your eyes at him, but you had to admit sometimes Hangman was entertaining and you figured your shift would at least be somewhat more lively with his antics. So you just shifted closer to him while maintaining an eye on the bar in case someone needed anything. 

“Do tell.”

He pointed a finger back towards the game of pool just as Rooster sunk a shot and Phoenix high-fived him, “You see Bob over there?”

You narrowed your eyes. You definitely didn’t like where this was going. While Hangman was all huge ego on the outside, you knew he wasn’t really like that on the inside, so it made you suspicious that he was deciding to pick on Bob. Usually it was all in good fun, but you had a soft spot for Bob and you really didn’t want to be caught up in any hurtful gossip.

“Play nice in my bar, Bagman.” You said, scrubbing a bit more aggressively at the countertop than you meant to.

“Hey! I’ll have you know I’m playing very nice, I’m being a wingman instead of Hangman tonight.” Wingman? “Bob over there, has a very big and bad crush on a certain someone.” 

You hoped this was some sort of prank, because Hangman had one perfectly manicured finger pointing at you. You felt your face go bright red. 

“That’s not playing nice.” God, why was this happening? 

It was one thing to harbor your little crush on Bob, to let yourself check him out while you were sure he wasn’t looking, it was another to have Hangman mock you by telling you that Bob liked you back. 

“He really thinks he’s being subtle,” Hangman continued as if he hadn’t heard you speak, “But he refuses to let us buy his drinks whenever we’re buying a round just so he can talk to you. I swear he spends more time up here or staring at you than he does hanging out with us.”

Saved by a customer, you let your attention drift away from Hangman and what he’d said to you. Even though he lingered, leaning on the bar, you tried not to focus on him. 

What did he mean Bob had a crush on you? That couldn’t be possible. A few weeks prior you had almost asked Bob out to dinner after not charging him for his drink, hoping that that would be enough to start a bit of flirting. 

Instead the WSO had placed enough cash to cover his drink and a very generous tip on the bar and stammered out something about needing to get back to the game of pool him and Rooster were losing. So you took that as your hint. 

Ever a patient asshole, Hangman was still there after you finished making drinks. Clearly being decently drunk wasn’t enough to keep him from being a pain. He just kept looking between you and Bob and not saying anything. 

“You’re scaring other customers.” You wanted this to end, the observation, you wanted to get out from under his knowing gaze.

He flicked a cherry stem at you, and without flinching proceeded to make you feel like you were officially the world’s least subtle person, “It’s not hard to see that you and Bob wanna jump each other’s bones, I think once you get it out of your system you’ll be perfect for each other. Just have to get over that first hurdle.”

And with that, Hangman walked himself back over to the rest of the group. You stood there in stunned silence trying to process exactly what just happened.

-

Like you said before, you were usually far more behaved than this. But nevertheless, you now found yourself pressed up against your car in the corner of the Hard Deck’s parking lot, Bob’s lips on yours and his hands on your waist. 

Anyone could see. Hangman or Rooster could step out for a breath of fresh air, maybe even a drunk cigarette (no one was allowed to tell Mav), and see you pulling Bob’s shirt out of his standard-issue khakis and running your hands over his stomach. You had always known he was hiding some serious muscle under his uniform. Someone could see you, weak in the knees for the quiet, but beautiful, Bob. 

“Jesus Christ,” he said quietly against your lips as you scratched at his back and trembled in his arms. “We shouldn’t–shouldn’t be doing this out in the open. You deserve better.”

Was it wrong that him being so respectful made you want him to ruin you all that more? What you wouldn’t give to be in your, or his, apartment right now, protected by four walls and free to strip and see all of him. But for now, you’d have to take the cards you were dealt. 

Grasping behind yourself, you yanked the back door handle against yourself, feeling the door give against you and open slightly. You pushed Bob off you gently, just enough to pull the door open and grab his collar to pull him into the car with you. He made a choked off sound, and you honestly weren’t sure if it was because of you grabbing his shirt or if he was surprised. 

“Wait,” He managed, and you froze, “I... Will you sit in my lap?”

You were going to die, here and now, with him almost hovering over you, his eyes wide and pleading. For a moment, time seemed to turn into something syrupy as he slid fully into the car, shut the door, and pulled you into his lap. 

You both sat there for just a moment, panting and staring at each other. Maybe you owed Hangman an apology for doubting his wingman skills, but you weren’t sure you wanted to inflate his ego more than it already was. 

However, he did deserve some credit. After he had dropped that bomb on you, Bob had come over and asked if you were alright, claiming he’d give Hangman a talking-to about whatever he said that had clearly upset you. You just stood there staring at him, until he started to squirm slightly under your gaze. 

It was in that moment you had blurted out, “I have a crush on you.”

He had stared at you for a split second before he whispered, so quietly you weren’t even sure you were supposed to hear it, “Oh my god, I want to kiss you so badly.” 

It had taken everything in you not to drag him across the bar and press your lips into his. Instead, you managed to tell him that you had your thirty minute break in five minutes, and to meet you in the parking lot by your car. It was probably the most reckless thing you had ever done.

So that was how you ended up in the backseat of your car, Bob’s tongue running along the seam of your lips, whining slightly when you opened your mouth to feel his tongue glide over your teeth. You could tell he had his feet firmly planted on the floor by the steady rhythm of his hips against yours. That part of his actions seemed so confident, so assured in comparison to the slight tremor in his hands against your hips, but you wanted him to let loose a little, show you just how much he wanted you. 

The car rocked gently with your movements. He was panting as his forehead leaned against yours, and he let out a particularly high pitched whine as you grabbed him by the back of the neck to force your lips together again.

“Been thinking about this, about you,” he ground out as you both pulled away again to catch your breaths, “See you every Friday and Hangman, ah, Hangman makes fun of me.” 

You groaned at his confession and twisted your hands into his neatly combed hair. Honestly, you couldn’t judge his hesitancy, for god’s sake you thought he barely liked you as a friend. Plus, you’d firmly asked more than one patron to leave when they tried to be too forward. Bob was never too forward. 

“Been, fuck! Been, trying to be a gentleman.”

You didn’t want him to be a gentleman, you wanted him to ruin you. Grabbing his wrists, you shoved them under your shirt and sighed as he got the message, rubbing your nipples over your bra. 

“F-Fuck,” you gasped, rolling your hips against his more firmly. 

“You’re so beautiful,” He whispered as his lips marked a path down your neck, mouthing at your collarbone as he tugged the collar of your shirt to the side.

“Bob...” You could feel the heat in your stomach building, the familiar tingle in your fingers.

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” With one hand on your stomach rubbing soothing circles, and the other dipping into your bra, the flood of physical sensations was almost too much. 

You moaned into his mouth and shuddered against his grip, raking your hands through his hair and feeling just how much he liked the sensation of your nails scraping against his scalp when the rhythm of his hips stuttered.  

When you came it felt like a star bursting in your chest, everything went fuzzy around the edges as he rocked you in his lap and you rode out your orgasm. It felt like Christmas morning, your birthday, and every party all rolled into one. You shuddered as he kept your hips moving against his, clearly close. 

But you would have none of that.

Still trembling from your own release you unbuttoned his khakis with shaking hands and reached in to grasp him. He stared down at your through lightly fogged up glasses, clearly shocked. 

“Fuck, wait, are you sure—!” Was all he managed to get out before you were on your knees, doing your damndest to swallow him down.

He came with a choked shout, one hand on the back of your head and the other clawing at the worn leather of your seats, grasping for something, anything to keep him tethered. For a moment you stayed on your knees, reveling in the feeling of what had just happened. 

He was a fucking vision from this angle. His usually perfectly done haired was wild from you running your hands through it, his khakis were haphazardly open and his softening cock was laying against his stomach where you had rucked his shirt up. Breathing wild, his chest rose and fell quickly, and his fingers resting on the seat twitched in a matching rhythm to the ones in your hair.

Perhaps most tantalizing of all were his glasses–their lenses were fogged up, but you could still almost see his wide eyes behind them. 

You wished you had a camera to capture the moment. 

The moment was broken when Bob reached down to pull you back into his lap and move his lips softly against yours. It took you a moment to register that he was whispering sweet nothings to you–a combination of thank you, and all sorts of compliments that made your chest ache. 

A sudden alarm sound made both of you turn in opposite directions at the same time, smacking your foreheads together. Suddenly any sexual tension had completely dissipated, replaced by both of you melting into laughter. Leave it to you and Bob to top off humping in your car like teenagers by giving each other concussions. 

“I need to get back to work.” You whispered as he inspected your forehead for any lasting injuries, “That was my alarm.”

He pressed his lips to yours softly, as if he was savoring your final moments together. “Can I take you out to dinner tomorrow? Do this part right?”

“I’d love that.”

-

You almost made it to closing without anyone noticing that you and Bob had both conveniently been gone for most of your meal break. But the crew crowding the pool table was far too observant for their own good. To his credit, Bob got himself almost fully back to his normal appearance, and you slipped into the bathroom to make sure you were presentable again. 

“You should say thank you to people who do nice things for you,” Hangman was back, toothpick hanging loosely from his mouth as he turned a sly grin in your direction, “I’ll take a beer in compensation, though.”

Pretending not to know what he could possibly mean, you continued to clean up. “Making sure all your cups are on the bar by closing is not exactly free beer material.”

He scoffed and stole another garnish, “You might think you’re slick but Bob’s been staring at you uninterrupted since you got back from your little break.”

“According to you he stares at me regardless.” Sorry, Bob.

“Yeah, but now he stares at you all mopey, which means you must’ve gotten the other stuff out of your system–”

You threw a piece of ice, the universe granting you with perfect aim for once, and watched as it hit his collarbone and slid down his shirt. He jerked backwards with a hiss. 

“Okay! Just take your beer and shut up.” Why did he have to be like this?

“Why thank you sweetheart, consider your debt settled.” With a wink, he was gone.

If you were honest with yourself, you probably would give Hangman a thousand free beers just to see Bob in the backseat, glasses foggy, and staring at you like you hung the moon. But he didn’t have to know that.

[thatgirlstrawberry]

Not-so-happy Hotch pt. 2

In which Y/N and Spencer are in a predicament

Warnings: kinda smut, fluff, angst, bodily liquid getting on clothing (if you know what I mean🤭), mean Hotch, Derek being a teaser, lmk if I missed anything!!

Spencer Reid x fem!hotch!reader

This picture was made by @thbidkbutok

•*. •*.

“Y/N, Hotch is going to kill me.” He groaned, pressing his fingers against the dark purple marks littered all over his neck and chest. He stood there in the mirror with nothing but his boxers on.

It was true. Hotch would absolutely kill him. Truth is, Y/N got a little carried away the night before. “I’m sorry! I swear, I didn’t mean to that!”

He chuckled. “How do you accidentally bite someone?”

“Like this!” She leaned over and bit his bicep gently. He jumped a bit and looked at her.

“No, but seriously. You might wanna start planning my funeral.” He said, fingers ghosting over the hickies.

Y/N rolled her eyes and smiled. “Oh shut up and wear a turtleneck!” She giggled, kissing his shoulder.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

It was hard to keep her hands off of Spencer when they walked into the building every day. And he knew it was hard for her. She craved the feeling of his mmm. So, he decided that they’d leave early so they they could still have time for each other’s company and live in the morning before they’d walk into work. Sometimes they’d drink coffee and eat donuts and sometimes they’d just full on fuck in the backseat.

Today was one of those days.

Her breathless moans filled the entire car. “Fuck, Spencer!” She cried, her nails scraping down his back. He relentlessly drilled into her over and over again. Her hands clenched his biceps as his arms held him over her, gripping the door behind her.

“Y/N/N, I’m so close—“ He grunted out, one hand coming from behind her head to rest on her chin, thumb rubbing her bottom lip.

“Spence, I’m gonna c-“ Before she could even get the words out of her mouth, her hot release came and she squeezed her eyes shut, feeling Spencer pull out. They forgot to restock the car condoms.

Soon, he finished and Y/N gasped when she realized that he accidentally came all over her blouse. “Spencer!” He blushed a dark shade of pink.

“Oh shit! Baby, I’m so sorry! Oh my— do you have another work shirt?” She shook her head as he climbed off of her, pulling up his pants.

She inhaled deeply and looked at him. “Remember those shirts I bought us for your birthday?” She asked, a small embarrassed smile on her face. “They’re still in the trunk.”

He tilted his head and parted his lips. “Y/N, you can’t wear that in there!” He shook his head. “Your dad will actually kill me. For real this time.”

“Would you rather me go in there with your cum all over my shirt or would you rather me go in there wearing a shirt with the word daddy on it?” She asked, tearing off the shirt that she was wearing.

“Y/N, i really don’t think this is a good idea.” He grabbed her arm as she went to get out of the car.

She turned back to him. “Spencer, I couldn’t care less what my dad thinks. If he fires me, he fires me. I’m not a child. That’s on him, okay?” He sighed.

“Well… if you’re gonna wear yours…” He drew out, closing his eyes, not actually believing he was about to walk into the BAU in a T-shirt.

Y/N gave him a small smile and leaned forward to give him a big, passionate kiss. “I love you, Spencer Reid.”

“I obviously love you more.” He joked, climbing out of the car so she didn’t have to get out half naked.

.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.

In their line of work, yes, there was a dress code. But seeing as the particular circumstances prevented them from dressing appropriately, they walked hand in hand into the bullpen.

Y/N avoided any and all eye contact that might have been made with her because her shirt said “BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM” her entire body was hot.

Spencer looked red as a tomato with “My Girlfriend is Hotter than you” plastered in all caps across his shirt.

Derek glanced up from his desk he’s leaned on for just a second. But then, his head slowly lifted back up. His eyebrows increasingly furrowed, his face full of concern.

He read Y/N’s shirt first before looking at Spencer’s. “What… the… hell.” He kicked off of his desk and hurried in front of them. “What are you guys… wearing!?” He asked, trying his hardest not to laugh.

Y/N pushed a finger to her lips. “Shhh! Derek, if you get me in trouble, I will hurt you!” She whispered harshly.

Spencer just nodded his head. “There was an incident… and this was all she had in the car.” He said, glancing at the floor repeatedly.

Derek squinted. “Wait a minute…” He drew out. “You two were doin’ it in the car, weren’t you!?” He asked, eyes widening.

Y/N clenched her jaw and rolled her eyes. “Shut up! I will actually punch you in the throat— oh shit, here comes Rossi.” She dropped Spencer’s hand and folded hers in front of her.

“Sweetheart! You’re h—“ He stopped and furrowed his eyebrows. “What the hell are you two wearing?”

Y/N heated even more and she looked up at Spencer. “I’m beginning to think the other shirt was a better idea.”

The other two began asking each other questions and snickering about the shirts. Emily and JJ and Penelope also joined when they saw then couple.

Her breath hitched when her father’s office door opened and he stepped out. Spencer was busy looking at the very interesting floor when he came closer. “What’s going on over here?” Hotch asked, joining the group that surrounded his daughter and her boyfriend.

He eyed both of them with a stone cold look and then looked at what they were were wearing. “Office.” He turned right back around and headed towards his previous place. He paused and realized that he didn’t hear any footsteps behind him. “Now.”

Y/N inhaled deeply and grabbed Spencer’s hand, pulling him with her behind her father. He was silent until they reached his office.

They went in and sat in the chairs immediately, feeling like a couple of kids who got called to the principal’s office. “Okay, I’m just gonna say it…” He sighed, sitting in his chair. “You thought it was appropriate to wear shirts with words on them to work? The word d-daddy and girlfriend are not appropriate here, you do understand that, right?”

“I spilled coffee on my shirt.” Y/N lied, thinking her excuse would suffice.

Hotch narrowed his eyes and looked at Spencer. “And what happened to his shirt?”

She swallowed. “I also… spilled coffee on his shirt.” Her nod concluded her second lie.

Hotch inhaled and popped his eyebrows up. “Okay.” He shrugged. “Find new clothes and get to work.” He commanded. Y/N rolled her eyes and Spencer got up quickly, leaving the room.

Y/N got up as well but her father called to her. “Y/N?”

“Yes?” She answered.

“If you wanna be a behavior analyst, I suggest you learn how to lie better.”

———————————————

Yuuuuuh pt. 2!!!

Love @thbidkbutok for requesting this!!!

Thanks for reading bbgs!!! Love ya bunches!!

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[kyokikikie]

Hate

(kageyama tobio x reader)

-

-> in which two highschool students who despise each other dearly, get paired up for a project.

!enemies to lovers!

angst w no comfort

she never thought the way she felt for him could change.

After all, she hated his guts. From the moment she met him in the school library, she knew that he was trouble. The way he would shout at the shorter orange haired male who was always beside him every single time made her annoyed. ‘couldn’t he just lower his voice or shut up?!’ she thought to herself.  The way he would look at almost everyone who wasn’t involved with volleyball with that bitch face as if he were trying to find a problem with them. ‘Is he trying to pick a fight?’ she would scoff whenever that happened. 

To be fair, the feeling was mutual. 

Kageyama Tobio hated her guts too. From the moment she refused to help him with his subjects, he basically considered her as arrogant, he never wanted to speak to her or ask for her help again. The way she BOUGHT THE LAST PACKET OF MILK from the vending machine ( which didn’t restock for a week ) made him irritated and unable to focus during his volleyball practice.

They both didn't cross paths or spoke for months till their homeroom teacher made them pair up for a project that they had to do. 

As expected, they both didn't say anything to each other even when they had a discussion going on. The teacher however, didn't seem to get a hint so she threatened them with a failing grade. 

“If it wasn't for my grades, I would literally throw a brick to your face.” Y/N muttered to herself. “what?” the look on the raven haired male was full of disgust, “you think I want to be here with you? tsk, shittykawa would be a better partner instead."

The girl beside him scoffed, “what makes you think I want to be here with YOU. You can't even slice a simple math question, we are going to fail anyway because of what a  dumbass you are.” 

Kageyama clenched his fist. He had never been called a dumbass by anyone other than his volleyball teammates and sister before. Oh this girl must have had a lot of nerves to say that. Before he could even return an insult, the teacher announced to the class that this project must be done in 3 weeks and is recommended to meet outside of school. 

Y/n and Kageyama both gave an annoyed look before packing their bags for dismissal. After school, Y/N went straight to the library to complete all her homework given for the day, her mind not leaving the fact that she had to meet that volleyball obsessed psycho outside of school. Either way, it was for the grade. as long as she doesn't fail, it would be fine. Although she didn't have the setter’s number… 

Y/n looked out of the library window to see the boys volleyball gym still practicing. She can't believe she's doing this. She can't believe she's actually going to the boy's volleyball gym just to find the person she hates most. Her hands slid the door open, a whole new scenery flashed across her eyes.

BAM! 

The sound of a volleyball smashed the gym’s wooden floor. It was none other than Kageyama who had put all his anger on the ball. “geez… sooner or later this boy is gonna break something." The gray haired upperclassmen, Sugawara-senpai sighed,

“Oh? Who's this? Noya, do you know her?” Suga said to the libero beside him when he spotted the H/c haired girl standing at the door. “nope!” Nishinoya exclaimed, popping the ‘p’. 

“uhm, sorry to disturb your training but may I speak to…that guy.. for a while?” Y/N pointed to the scowling setter while the two boys hid their laughs. She didn't want to say it. she didn't want to say his name.

Sugawara quickly called Kageyama over. the male was no't expecting to see Y/n standing at the door of the gym. He went over to the h/c coloured hair girl, ready to throw another insult till he was interrupted by her. “Look, don't get this the wrong way. Its all for our project. our teacher recommended us to meet outside school to complete it so I would need you number to give you heads up.”

“that's smooth.”

“shut the fuck up and just give me your number already.” “Fine.” the setter typed his number on Y/N’s device before turning his back and continued with practice.

for the first two days, things were not going well, Y/N and Kageyama almost got kicked out of the library for arguing too loudly and they didn't even manage to complete at least one part of the assignment within two days.

On the third day, Y/N had enough. there was no point in insulting him anymore there's no point when the risk of them failing is high. “Yo, I think we should just call it a truce. us arguing is not making progress at all.” The boy just nodded and they both got along with no arguments, no insults.

As days went by, Y/N realised that she despised kageyama for nothing. Sure he was loud and annoying at times but he could be a tad bit motivational when he talks about his love for volleyball. the way his eyes would glim and glitter from thinking about the feeling of setting the ball. the way his lips would curl into a smile when the thought of being able to go back to practice one the project is done made Y/N's heart skip a beat.

who knew the cold, loud kageyama tobio would have such a cute smile.

Before she even realised it, she was falling. falling hard for the boy she once hated. She didn't think that her feelings could change but there she was, lying in bed thinking about him and his silly little sport.

it was a matter of time till Kageyama found out. the way Y/N acted so differently around him made him wonder if she actually thought of them as friends.

the day the project was due, Kageyama couldn't wait to step foot in the gym where he'd almost planned to stay there overnight. Half way through the practice that he had longed for, The raven haired boy was called out by one of his upperclassmen, “Someone is finding you outside, kageyama, you can join back later alright?”

Much to his surprise, His former project parter was there, back leaning against the outer wall of the gymnasium as she crossed her arms waiting. “I thought you said you’d never want to see me again?” Tobio said, startling her, “what gives?”

“I know i said that but… i guess people change, i think?” She fiddled with her hands, “Look, i used to hate you. You and your addiction for volleyball. You and your scowling face. But, working with you for this project made me realised that i was just judging a book by its cover.”

Y/n shifted her eyes to the sandy ground.

“I think i like you kageyama.”

no response. The girl lifted up her head only to greeted with the sight of the the boy, covering his mouth as if he was trying to hold his laughter. "W-Whats so funny?"

"I was just pretending to be nice to you so we would get a passing grade, i did expect you to fall for me. HAHA you should have seen your face when you said that"

oh.

The setter's words stabbed Y/n's heart like a knife. Of course it was an act. after all, he hated her. She stood frozen, shoulders hunched as she lowered her gaze once again as if the weight of his words pressed her into the ground.

Y/n clutched onto her school bag, "It was a prank by the way." she retorted, turning around. "i didnt expect you to be that mean, kageyama." As soon as she said that, the girl walked away with a heavy heart.

Kageyama watched as she quickened her pace and disappeared from his horizon before returning to practice. Unbeknownst to him, his teammates were eavesdropping on his conversation, crowding around the setter when he stepped foot into the gym.

"Either way kageyama, you were too harsh with her." Hinata chipped in. Kaegeyama grabbed the shorter male by his hair causing him to yelp, "What do you know, dumbass."

"Hinata's right, kageyama. poor girl was holding back her tears." Suga patted him on the shoulder as he looked out the window. kageyama followed his actions.

"she said it was a prank."

"I really doubt that, kageyama."

why couldn't he do anything?

"I think I like you, kageyama"

he was at loss for words, unable to say anything. He wanted to tell her 'i like you too' but when he opened his mouth, that disgustingly awful sentence came out instead.

-

It had been weeks after the 'confession', Y/N completely ignored him whenever he tried to approach her just like the past.

All he wanted was to apologise.

she would never know that.

the confession was real.

he would never know that.

they would never know that in every other universe, kageyama tobio and Y/N L/N would always fall in love.

they would never know.

masterlist!

[buckyalpine]

Posies

No ones ever gotten me flowers and I really like flowers (pick a dandelion or a pretty leaf you saw on the side walk for me, I’ll be happy forever). There’s something really sweet about someone thinking about you and getting you flowers so here we are. Two separate drabbles. The first time he gets flowers. The first time you get them too. 

Warnings: Emotional but flufffyyy with lots of nervous rambling (Sweet Bucky getting the love he deserves + how can we not write about how adorable this gif is)

Getting him flowers

Imagine when you first hand them to him, he’s confused. He inspects them like a curious puppy, blinking because why did you get him flowers? If anything shouldn’t he get you flowers? Why did he never get you flowers. You weren’t even dating, not that he didn’t want that, actually he really liked you and he thought you were the prettiest thing he’d ever laid his eyes on and so sweet and-

“Do-do you like them?” You asked nervously, noting the way he fidgeted with the little bundle of flowers, still looking perplexed as ever. 

“I do! They’re beautiful but-why?” He was the last person that deserved flowers, maybe this was a prank or a joke. Maybe you brought everyone flowers, or there was a two for one deal or some weirdo gave them to you and you didn’t know what to do with them or- 

“I just thought of you when I saw them” You shrugged, now looking at your toes, worried he might have thought it was weird. He came from a time where men bought women flowers, not the other way around, what were you thinking, you didn’t even plan on getting him flowers. You came back from a trip to the farmers market, picking up a few items that needed restocking, including some plums for Bucky. You passed by a flower cart, the sweet floral smell warming your insides. They smelled like summer, sunshine, warmth; they made you feel the same way Bucky did. They were all the good things Bucky deserved too. You grabbed them, hoping they’d make his day a little brighter but-

“You thought of me when you saw flowers?” He took a step closer to you, biting his lip while you continued to look at the floor, tugging at a loose string on your dress. 

“I’m-im sorry if it’s weird, I just thought you could use a little love in your day so I brought them for you because flowers make me happy and you make me happy and the flowers were pretty and you’re pretty  but you don’t have to keep them if you don’t like them I-

You were cut off by his thick arms wrapping around you pulling you right into his chest, holding you tightly against him. You felt your heart jump, your arms wrapping around his waist while he squeezed you, almost as if he was trying to make sure you were real. It was really you, his favorite girl, really thinking of him when you saw some pretty flowers, really in his arms. 

“Th-thank you” He whispered, his voice strained, swallowing the lump in his throat. He didn’t ever want to let go of you, wanting the moment to last forever, losing himself in how perfectly you fit in his arms. 

“It’s nothing” Your cheeks heated up, still nuzzled in his hold. Bucky shook his head, cupping your face to look at him, his eyes brimming with tears, threatening to spill out. You reached up to let your thumb gently swipe the tear that ran down his cheek while he leaned into your touch, resting his forehead against yours. 

“No sweets, it’s everything. I don’t-” He thought for a moment, taking in a breath before continuing. “I don’t remind people of good things. People don’t think of flowers when they see me. Not unless they’re thinking of a loved one I took from them” Your heart broke at his words, your own eyes watering while he gave you a sad smile. “But it’s different with you. No one looks at me or sees me the way you do. When I’m with you, I feel like I have a piece of myself back”

You felt warmth creep on your cheeks, your hands fisting his Henley, while he let one hand go to your waist, the other still against your face. 

 “It means a lot to me. It’s everything to me. I love the flowers, I love-” Bucky stopped speaking before he let it slip out. You looked up at him, wondering why he had stopped, blinking at him to continue. “and I love you” He whispered, his heart beating out of his chest. His eyes flicked to your lips, biting them nervously before pulling you even closer. 

“Can I-can I kiss you?” He blushed, his nose bumping against yours. You giggled, standing on your toes to close the gap between you both. You loved the feel of his soft warm lips moving gently against yours, pouring every bit of love he had kept a secret into the kiss. 

“I love you too” You smiled against his lips, gasping when he chased your lips again, kissing you as if it kept him alive; that was the first of many flowers you bought for Bucky. 

The first time you get flowers. 

He blushes so much when he finally asks you out on a date. It’s very obvious you both like each other but he’s a shy baby when it comes to actually making a move. He shows up at your door with some classic red roses; they’re beautiful and you cradle them to your chest because no one’s ever done that for you before. That bouquet was special because they were the first flowers anyone had ever gotten you and coming from Bucky made them so much more sweet. 

But it’s the second time he gets them for you that’s the most precious. The moment you’d always remember.  

He’s come back after a mission, eyes tired, body sore, his muscles aching from bruises. None of that matters though, because now that he’s home, he gets to see you. 

“Welcome home solider” You smiled, burring your face into his chest as soon as he walked in, inhaling his scent, the leather of his jacket cool on your face. You melted feeling his strong arms wrap around you, rocking you against him for a while. 

“Here baby” He smiled like a school boy, handing you a small bunch of yellow tulips, not thinking much of it while he toed his boots off and moved away to hang his jacket. You stared at the little garden of sunshine, unable to stop the tightness in your throat, tears freely streaking down your face. Your little sniffle got Bucky’s attention again, stopping immediately to make sure he heard correctly. 

“Baby?” His eyes grew wide when he saw you whimpering, gently tracing over the soft velvety petals, struggling to hold in your sobs “Why are you crying, what’s wrong?”

“No one’s even brought me flowers before” Your voice cracked, nothing but a small whisper, full on crying when he came over to hug you again. 

“Is that all?” He smiled, kissing your head, “Then why are you crying sweet girl” Bucky chuckled while you tightly clutched onto the bouquet, not taking your eyes off them. 

“Because-” It was so much more than just the flowers, it was the fact that he thought of you on his way back, so tired, hurt and yet he couldn’t help himself when he saw the flowers, wanting to bring back a little something to see you smile. “I just- I’ve always liked them and you’re the first and only person to get them for me and I know I don’t need flowers but it’s just you didn’t have to get them for me, but you did and I love them so much and I love you so much and they’re so pretty and you’re so sweet to me-”

In your rambling, you didn’t realize you had slipped out that you loved him, continuing to list all the things you adored about him. Bucky however immediately noticed, his ears perking up, not registering a single thing you said after because did you really say that? 

“You love me?” Bucky felt his heart flutter, his tummy erupting with butterflies. He felt like a little boy, shy to tell his crush he liked her. Sure, you were already dating but he had been in love with you for much longer than that and now...

You stopped, freezing when you realized you hadn’t meant to say that. Not that it wasn’t true, it most definitely was but you weren’t sure if Bucky felt the same, biting you lip nervously, avoiding his sparkling blue eyes. 

“I do” You whispered, hiding you face away from him, which only made him fall for you more. 

“Baby look at me?” He tilted your chin up with his fingers, kissing your nose “I love you too sweet girl” He kissed you again, “I love you so much” And again, “From the day I saw you, from before you were mine” He kissed you long and hard, “I love you” 

Ever since that day he loves nothing more than to bring you flowers for no reason. Just cause. He has to bring flowers for his best girl. 

Nothing made his heart happier than the way your face would light up every single time. You couldn’t help but giggle at the video Sam had sent you of when he had caught Bucky walking over with a comically large bouquet of flowers for you after his morning jog; still in his soft baby pink hoodie, sweats and his beanie, carefully crossing the road with an arrangement of gorgeous pinks and purples. You couldn’t even see his face when he walked through the door, the flowers nearly half the size of him. 

“Oh my god Buck, what did you do”

He grinned, his face popping up from behind as he set them in front of you, proud of the ones he picked out. 

“Do you like them baby?” 

“You didn’t have to get me flowers” 

He shook his head, shutting you up with a firm kiss, he would have brought you the whole flower cart if he could. 

“Shhh. Yes I did, you deserve them all even if you’re the prettiest one” 

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