#hes scared to admit he was baking? why?

[ask-steven-stevenson]

one of your…. Employees told me to come speak to you, so. Here I am.

*HUMAN HARRY JUMPSCARE RAAA*

@ask-harry-fitzgerald

“WH. WHEN. When did they talk to you..- uhm. Well. Hello. I was. Baking..-“

[ORG.. hes nervous. He just made his son some macaroon dough…]

“Y.You’re human.again.,uhm.”

[he sounds. Mix of nervous and surprised..]

[t3ag3rs]

♡ bakugou headcannons !

i felt like a hopeless romantic today so why not have some random headcannons?

i personally feel like bakugou wouldnt be looking for a relationship because of his ambition to wanna be a hero. so he kinda has that "itll come my way when its time" mentality with dating.

dont hate me but i think bakugou is the type of person to not "fall in love at first sight"

if he does find you interesting though, its because of the sole reasons of either your quirk or your personality. thats it- no other reason.

secretly probably has a thing for thick/curvy/muscular women, you cannot tell me otherwise.

once you two start talking more he'll secretly enjoy the way you yap when it comes to things you like or about something you genuinely cant stand.

i think bakugou wont be the one to make the first move unless like mina or someone tells him that you secretly have a fat crush on him as well.

on the other hand, if you were to confess to him he would try to act as nonchalant as possible but would be embarrassed, happy + his ego would definitely inflate.

once you both go public it is OVER for all the other "extras". bakugou would be showing you off left and right- "hey you see that hottie over there? guess what? shes mine- now look the other way!"

would be lowk scared that his brash personality would make you leave him for someone else, but you would always insist he was all you ever needed and thats all he needed to go back to the cocky bastard you know and love.

is a SUCKER for random compliments and physical touch. you hold his hand on the way out the class? instant butterflies. "your eyes are so pretty suki..!" fuck. he was whipped for you.

bakugou loves it when you massage his back or shoulders after a hard day of training. oh, and when you run your hands through his hair? hes on cloud nine.

loves cooking for you, but leaves the baking to you. he absolutely CANNOT bake for his life. would get too frustrated after having to do the same step multiple times because the recipe called for it and would just end up combining all the steps in one.

wont admit it but he loves when you use him as your walking heater. "bakugou im crampinggggg..." "here..." he says as he places his palm on your stomach as you sigh in content. he cant help but find it adorable when you force yourself on him if he doesnt do it himself.

last but not least... sleeping. hates being the small spoon because it makes him feel unimportant :( will sometimes stay up just to see your cheeks squished on to his chest as you sleep- dont be surprised to see photos of you like that on his phone.

slow mornings with bakugou is so sweet and soft. he would definitely press small kisses to your neck after each compliment he would say about you. only when youre asleep ofc. if you wake up and show even the slightest sign of knowing what he did, he would take a pillow and smack your face with it 100%. all with love though ofc. besides, its not like you didnt know about it for months now.

lol idek if this is good since its my first time but uhhhh lmk what yall think.

[lavender-butterfly-cookie]

Forgotten friends

So I read a lot of ancient Y/N cookie stuff because why not and I decided to make my own. Bear in mind that this is a work of pure imagination and judgment will not be tolerated.

Long ago, You were baked along with 5 other cookies, an immense power created within you by the witches. You were all created to the purpose of protecting earthbread and providing guidance to those who resided within it. Knowledge, Volition, Change, Happiness, Solitude and Patience. All created for a great purpose.

Alas, great power always begets corruption. You watched as how your friends will crumbled onto their own strength one by one. You wished you had seen it sooner. Wish you had taken notice of their behavior changing and shifting into corruption. You wish you could've done something sooner. But you couldn't.

You felt... foolish, to put it kindly. All the signs had been there. More cases of injured cookies, more homes being destroyed out of nowhere, the constant plea from the cookies to be protected. But every time you asked who had hurt them, they never replied. You should've realized it sooner. What other cookies had powers strong enough to wipe an entire village out of existence and only leave ashes, flour, jam and crumbs as it's remains?

Regardless of not having seen it sooner, you knew something had to be done. You had to intervene, make them come back to their senses somehow. But every time you got the courage to even walk to their quarters, you never entered. You were scared of what your friends had become, a lot more than you would've liked to admit. Besides, there were five of them and one of you. Even if they haven't crumbled you already, they're still capable of doing it.

With little to no options left you were forced to seek out the help and guidance of the witches. Fortunately for you, they had already come up with a solution. The unfortunate part?

The solution was to seal them away.

You were unsure how to take in this information. Part of you wanted to plead and beg that they find another way. But the other part knew this was the only way to protect earthbread. With a heavy heart you agreed to lure your fallen friends into a trap. Did you like it? No, of course not. They were your friends. But did you have a choice? Also no. It was for the sake of earthbread.

"Are we there yet?" Shadow milk cookie asked, though it came out as more of a whine. You were leading them to the agreed spot where they'd be sealed, having promised them that you wanted to show them something.

"Patience, Milk. We'll be there soon." You said, followed by a soft chuckle. Though you knew that was only to hide your dread. Here you were, leading your friends into a trap, and all you could do was try to divert any suspicion by acting like everything was ok when in reality it wasn't. "We've been walking FOREVER! How far must we go to see this thing?" Burning Spice cookie complained. You had to fight hard to suppress that deep sigh gathering in your lungs. If this experience wasn't already dreadful enough, they had been complaining time and time again how long it was taking and you gradually grew annoyed of them. "Look, not my fault you don't have any wings to just fly there. We all could've been there ages ago if SOMEONE wasn't a wingless pepper, don't attack me!" You retorted. Just as he opened his mouth to speak again you snapped something else.

"And don't even THINK about bringing up Silent Salt cookie. I know he doesn't have wings but at least he ain't complaining!" Though you're not sure if it's cuz he won't or if he can't. Either way, Burning spice cookie let out a grumble of annoyance before keeping quiet.

"Hey can we-" Eternal Sugar cookie let out a long yawn as she stretched out like a cat before snuggling back into her soft pink clouds. "Can we like, take a break or somethin'? We've been walking for ages..."

"Your feet haven't even touched the ground since we left!"

"Mmmh, too much work."

Another deep sigh you forced to not surface out brew up in your lungs again. You hadn't realized what pricks your friends had become. They used to be so nice. Now they're just... Annoying. Though you can't really say you were surprised, seeing as they corrupted in general.

"Applying pressure on Y/N cookie is futile. Our journey will on prove to be more insufferable and longer if we continue to be uncooperative." You heard Mystic flour cookies dull voice say.At least SOMEONE wasn't breathing down you neck. You also couldn't help but realize that the only thing that seemed to be different about her was the fact that her voice held no annoyance in it.

Heck, it practically held no emotion in general. Regardless you found her more tolerable in this moment then the other three. It kind of stung though, knowing she along with the others were following you so willingly to their own demise. But it had to be done.

Finally, you made it to the spot. You told them to stand in specific spots, which they complied with. As you got out of the way, you looked over at them all. You felt your smile falter and your heart began to ache. So you were really doing this, huh? You didn't want this. Not at all. But you had to do this. Once you felt the witches about to begin you let out a shaky sigh.

"Forgive me... I never wanted this..." you said softly, but it was loud enough for all of them to hear. Before they could react you watched five forks come down and imprison your friends, much to your displeasure and their shock. You turned away, unable to watch further. You tuned out their cries for your help. And without looking back, you walked away, your head hung low in shame and pain.

You hid yourself away and watched how the world around you changed. You now concealed your souljam as a pendant on your clothes and you concealed your identity. In fact, you changed it completely. You wondered for many days and night if your forgotten friends would ever forgive you.

Maybe... just maybe... with a lot of patience. Even if they did, nothing anyone said was gonna ever allow you to forgive yourself. Not even the light of patience would allow it.

[starkwlkr]

Ok this is a bit strange but could you do a Ruby fic where she's scared charles and yn are going to get a divorce because she heard them arguing and she's asking uncle pierre what's going to happen

two birthdays | charles leclerc

sorry for the wait!! here’s more baby leclerc <3

Ruby knew what divorce meant. A friend from school had explained it to her one day after she said she had to spend the weekend with her dad. Ruby also knew that her parents would never get a divorce, they were too in love with each other. At least that what she thought.

After coming home from school, Ruby heard her parents’ voice in the kitchen. Pascale had offered to pick up Ruby from school since Y/n had just given birth to Mathéo and Charles was taking care of her. The older woman heard the loud voices and knew that Ruby wasn’t meant to hear that.

“Ruby, ma fille, go up to your room. I’ll come and get you in five minutes.” Pascale instructed.

Ruby always listened to her grand-mère so she did what she was told. She hesitated a bit, but she made her way up the stairs and towards her bedroom. She had never seen or heard her parents fight so she was extremely confused. Was her family going to end up like her friend’s family?

“It’s kinda cool because I get two of everything. I get two birthdays so that means I get more presents!”

But Ruby didn’t want two birthdays. She didn’t care if two birthdays meant having more presents. Ruby would rather have no presents.

Exactly five minutes later, Pascale arrived to Ruby’s room. “Guess what?” The woman tried to put on a smile. “You get to stay with me tonight. We can bake cookies, watch Barbie the mermaid one, you love that movie, don’t you?”

Ruby nodded. “Why can’t we watch it here? Papa and maman love it too.”

Pascale sighed. “Your maman needs rest and your papa has work to do. Remember his race is coming up so he has to focus on winning.”

Ruby nodded once more. She didn’t question her grand-mère again so she just began to pack a bag.

It was summer break for Ruby and for some ‘unknown’ reason (to her) she was on her fourth plane flying to a new location. Each night she would ask Charles to call her maman so she could say goodnight. When she handed the phone back to Charles, she fully expected him to say goodnight as well but he would always end the call.

Silverstone was coming up. Ruby wasn’t sure if her maman and Théo were coming. She wanted them to come since she hadn’t seen them in a while, but it was confirmed by Charles that they were still in Monaco.

When the father and daughter arrived to the paddock, Ruby saw that Kika and Pierre had also arrived. “Papa, Uncle Pierre and Aunt Kika are here too.” Ruby pointed out.

Charles nodded.

Ruby had asked Charles if it was okay if she spent the day with Kika since her maman was home and she knew Charles was going to be busy for a while. Kika happily accepted having Ruby by her side so together the two girls made their way to the Alpine garage.

Kika noticed how quiet the little girl was being. Usually Ruby would run around and talk nonstop, but now she was basically silent the whole time. “What’s wrong, Ruby Jules? Are you cold? I think Uncle Pierre has a jacket you can wear.”

“I’m not cold, Aunt Kika. I’m sad.” Ruby replied as she held Kika’s hand.

“Why? What made you sad?” Kika asked.

“Maman and papa were fighting. Now they don’t talk to each other and I miss my maman.” Ruby said in a low voice.

Kika tried her best to comfort the girl as they arrived to the Alpine garage. She immediately called for Pierre.

“What’s going on? Why are you sad, bébé?” Pierre picked up Ruby in his arms.

“She heard Charles and Y/n arguing.” Kika informed him.

“I don’t want two birthdays.” Ruby admitted.

“What do you mean?” Pierre was confused by what she meant.

“My friend from school said she gets two of everything because her papa and maman are divorced. I know what that means. Papa and maman are going to divorce.” Ruby began to tear up.

“Mon chéri, your papa and maman love each other so much. Sometimes adults argue but your parents are too in love to divorce.” Pierre tried to explain.

“Do you and Aunt Kika argue? Are you getting a divorce?” Ruby wondered.

“Well we have to get married first.” Pierre lightly chuckled.

“When are you getting married?”

“You are very curious today, Ruby Jules.”

[tealvenetianmask]

How Blitz and Stolas figure out how they feel: external vs. internal processing

I've been in therapy a ton (feeling like I'm not alone in that in this fandom), and one of the things I've learned from it is that I like to process my thoughts and feelings externally- by talking about them. It turns out not everyone is like that. I'm like Blitz in this way.

I first got on this topic when I was thinking about how Blitz flip flops in Apology Tour. When he goes to see Stolas at the beginning of the episode, he goes in with an idea he's trying out- a narrative he's committed to FOR NOW, insisting that he's there to reinstate the full moon deal with TONS of undue and shaky confidence.

Is this plan something he's actually confident in? Absolutely not. But he's going to commit to it damnit and see how it plays out. Does he believe it? I think he does in the moment. He's convinced himself anyway, and when Stolas wears him down and he understands that he's not doing himself any favors . . .

He starts processing the real shit aloud.

I don't think Blitz has ever admitted this to himself, at least not this articulately and accurately. He needs to say it aloud in order for it to be real. Oops too real.

He's SCARED because he didn't even KNOW he felt this way, but things are becoming very clear and dangerously close to the heart of the matter . . . so he pivots again back into comfortable territory (conflict).

By the end of the conversation, he arrives at a new mission, one that's sort of an equilibrium between his realizations about his honest feelings and his need to have a mission he feels confident in. He's not all confident or all honest- he's still in flux.

There are SO many more examples of Blitz realizing how he feels BY TALKING (later in Apology Tour when he's talking to Stolas, and then when he's talking to Verosika . . . but then also back in Oops, etc.), but I'm going to leave it at one for brevity here. What's important is that we NEVER see Blitz processing alone. Even in his part of the duet (more on songs in a sec), when he's technically singing to himself, he's consoling himself with a narrative rather than really processing the things that need to be processed.

Blitz needs a person to process with.

But Stolas is an internal processor. We know this already because he made the plan to give Blitz the Asmodean crystal and sat on it for literal months, procuring the crystal, ironing out what he would say, trying to initiate conversations with Blitz, but never explaining how he felt to anyone before it was time- and absolutely NEVER in a way that was half baked.

The way Stolas sings his feelings actually gives us a really clear and beautiful picture of how he processes and figures things out. I forget who said it, but someone on the Helluva creative team referenced a broadway truism that in a musical, characters sing what they can't speak. I think for Stolas it's often what he can't YET speak because he's still processing. He has full honest conversations with himself (Stolas Sings, Just Look My Way), and then when he's face to face with Blitz, he knows exactly what he wants to say. His feelings and beliefs actually progress from song to song- he expresses his awareness of a problem in Stolas Sings and gets more precise about how he feels and what he needs to do about it in Just Look My Way.

By The Full Moon, for better or worse (kind of both), Stolas knows exactly what he wants to say to Blitz and how he wants to say it.

Even when he's upset, angry, and then drunk, when Stolas speaks about his feelings, he's consistent. He's decided. He loves Blitz. He wants a real relationship. From his point of view, he doesn't care about social class, so he can't understand why Blitz is so stuck on it.

But he's missing something key (it's the social class thing- it's definitely the social class thing), and internally, he's cooking, and we see that (again) when he sings.

This is the rawest and most in flux stage of his thought process that we've seen. Because this is how he figures out what he thinks and feels- with himself, in song.

Okay- so interesting psychoanalysis- why does this matter to the story?

Well, I think that Stolas doesn't understand that when Blitz speaks in these super emotional, fraught conversations, he doesn't go in knowing what he thinks and feels. He's figuring it out on the fly. He's figuring it out BY talking, and needs to be allowed to do that. Should he do this with a therapist instead of with the person most likely to be hurt by the ideas he flies through on his way to his true feelings? For sure, but this is Blitz.

In turn, Blitz doesn't understand that when Stolas acts absolutely certain and doesn't seem to take in the things Blitz is saying, he's not talking to a brick wall. He's talking to a moveable person who, once he's alone (or singing) is going over and over everything and breaking his thoughts down and reformulating until he arrives at something new.

So . . . it might be a little much to ask these two to understand each other's different processing styles- but they're coming along in their own ways. And I'm looking forward to them understanding each other. Someday. Maybe. Fucking sit down and talk. Slowly. AGH.

[inkdrinkerworld]

a spider!reader who gives off “sweet girl next door” vibes? she tries to bring miguel cookies with he’s working on something and he scares her, coming off more angry than intended, and ends up dropping them on the floor. (collect groan lmao)

contains minor spoilers to across the spider-verse pt 2

you’d been thinking all day after the whole fiasco of recruiting gwen that miguel needed cheering up.

margo warned you not to, said, ‘he’s a grump. let him grump.’

but you hadn’t been able to take that answer. there was something about miguel that didn’t just scream grump. something seemed tired about him.

so, you tried your hand at baking him something. you’d debated for a long time of chocolate chip cookies or oatmeal cookies were more his style.

you decided on chocolate chip.

you spent two days on them, using a recipe which required brown butter, overnight chilling and a lot of dark chocolate.

you got a lot of flour on you as you baked them, watching them rise and then spread out on the floor of the kitchen.

when they were done you packed them up in a cute purple box you snagged from the cafeteria.

your heart leapt to your throat as you turned down the corner to HQ, hoping that you wouldn’t catch miguel at a bad time.

that hope is decimated when you walk in and find him grumbling to his computer.

“um, miguel?” you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet as you stand in the archway.

“what? what do you need?” he huffs and you feel some of your momentum dry up.

“i brought something for you, but if you’re busy-“ it appears that was the wrong thing to say.

“of course i’m busy! i’m always busy trying to keep the stupid multi-verse from collapsing. maybe some other time we can chit chat.”

you’d never actually been on the receiving end of miguel’s upset, and maybe this wasn’t exactly for you but his tone and the way his arms are flailing around his body makes you feel small in a way that hasn’t happened for a long time.

“right,” you whisper, managing not to cry as you jolt and the box of cookies fall. “i’m sorry for bothering you.”

miguel watches as you don’t even bend to pick up the box. he watches you turn like you’re being remote controlled and he catches sight of your hands wiping at your eyes.

“great, you’ve made her cry casanova.” lyla appears suddenly, foot tapping in air as her arms cross over her chest.

“so now i’m the bad guy?” he asks, but it’s rhetorical. he feels like the bad guy. guilt and shame burn his throat and belly like he’s downed two tequila shots with no lime or salt.

lyla flits to the box, “she made you cookies.”

miguel sighs, hands scrubbing at his face as he steps off the platform to pick up the box. in your neat cursive he notices you’ve written, ‘a pick me from having to do all the hard stuff.’

he wants to smash something. of course he’d blow up at possibly the nicest spider-woman variant. of course he’d be the asshole to make you cry too.

“where is she?” he asks lyla as he sets the box on the desk and opens it to find the cookies all broken. they smell delicious - something close to that bakery you liked when you’d visited earth-2067 with him on a scouting mission.

you and miguel always make a great team on missions and he hates to admit it but he’s very fond of you and he knows you're fond of him too.

it’s why his chest is aching and he needs to find you. “lyla, where is she?”

“in her room, blasting music and cleaning. give the girl a moment alone before you barge in there and make it worse.”

[fluentmoviequoter]

Meet My Family

Requested Here!

Pairing: Jim Street x fem!baker!reader

Summary: Street is ready to introduce you to his family. You become fast friends with his SWAT team, but meeting his mother is a difficult challenge. After she tries to scare you away from Street, he faces a tough decision about who he considers family.

Warnings: Karen is Karen, Jim Street is a flirt™️, brief angst, fluff, not proofread

Word Count: 2.1k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Jim Street Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

“Hey, handsome,” you greet before kissing Jim’s cheek.

“Hi,” he responds slowly, his eyes narrowed as he watches you. “What’d you do?”

“Why do you think I did something?” you ask, blinking innocently.

“Because you met me at the door with a kiss and it smells like cookies in here.”

“I am a baker.”

“And I’m a cop. I can read you, babe.”

“Babe?” you repeat with a smile. “Are you flirting with me?”

“Not until you tell me what you want,” Street stipulates, failing to hide his smile.

“You said you were ready to introduce me to your team. And I accidentally tripled a few trial recipes, so I have a ton of cookies right now.”

“You want to bribe them,” he concludes, nodding.

“Not exactly what I meant, but… yeah.”

“Are you sure? They can be a lot. They’re going to like you, probably more than they like me, but I didn’t say I wanted to introduce you to rush you into anything.”

“You’re not rushing me. I’m ready to meet them. They’re important to you, and I love you.”

“Enough to save some cookies for me?”

“Of course.”

Less than half an hour after arriving at the station, Chris inhales deeply and says, “I love you.”

You smile as Street asks, “Because of the cookies?”

“Really?” Hondo asks you. “Street?”

“I see why he hid you,” Tan says, reaching for another cookie. “We’re going to need the address of your bakery.”

“The cookies aren’t the only reason we like you,” Luca explains. “You’re great for Street.”

“He’s great for me,” you reply. “But I’m glad you like the cookies, too.”

“How’d you meet?” Deacon inquires.

“He stole a cake.”

“I did not steal it,” Street corrects, looking at you as if you just accused him of murder. “I accidentally knocked it out of her window.”

“How do you accidentally knock a cake out of a window?” Hondo asks.

“I’ve asked the same thing almost daily since we started dating and I’ve never gotten a clear answer,” you say.

“Did you start dating after that?” Chris wonders.

“The same day,” Street brags. “I apologized for ruining the cake, and when I saw her, I had to ask her out.”

Hondo looks at you for confirmation, and you shrug. It’s close enough to the truth. Street tried to salvage the cake, offering apology after apology until you laughed. He looked up at you, with cake and frosting up to his elbows, and couldn’t find any more words to say. He finally blurted out a proposal to buy you dinner, and you haven’t looked back since.

“You should come to dinner with us on Friday,” Hondo tells you. “We’re going to a diner that just opened on Wilshire.”

“I’d love to,” you reply. “I’m sorry if I overstepped by just showing up today with no notice.”

“Family can drop by anytime,” Luca assures you.

After you say your farewells and gather the now empty cookie trays, you exchange numbers with Chris and talk to her about some of your shared favorite recipes. Meanwhile, the guys tell Street you’re perfect for him and welcome anytime, whether you’re bearing baked goods or not.

“How long have you been together?” Deacon asks him.

“About a month,” Street answers.

“What does your mom think about the new relationship?” Hondo inquires.

Street looks at you, where you’re laughing with Chris, then admits, “She doesn’t know. I wanted to introduce her to my actual family first.”

Deacon pats Street’s shoulder and encourages him to do what he thinks is best.

“We are your family, kid,” Hondo promises. “And we’re here for you – both of you.”

Street stops outside his door. He begins speaking but doesn’t get past your name before trailing off.

“I know,” you whisper comfortingly. “I’m here for you, Jim. Not your mom. And if she doesn’t like me, that’s okay. At the end of the day, it’s your decision about who you love, not hers. You know that, right?”

“I do. Okay, let’s get this over with.”

Street takes your hand and leads you into his apartment. His mom is living with him temporarily while she gets on her feet again and figures out what exactly she’s going to do for the remainder of her parole – or so she says.

“Jimmy!” she greets warmly. When she sees you, her smile drops.

“Mom, this is my girlfriend,” he introduces. “And this is my mom, Karen Street.”

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Street,” you greet with a smile, offering your hand.

“You too,” she answers. She then turns to Street, wiping the hand she used to shake yours on her pants, and says, “I couldn’t remember how to use the coffee maker. Could you show me again?”

“I’ll just make you some right now,” he offers before asking if you want anything.

“No, thanks,” you answer softly. Sitting with Karen, you ask how her day is going so far.

“Let’s just skip all the niceties since Jimmy isn’t here,” she interrupts. “You know as well as I do it will never work out. My Jimmy is a cop, he’s handsome, and you’re… a baker? Do you honestly see that working?”

Your smile droops, but you’re unwilling to let Karen Street deter you or scare you away from dating the man who makes you happy.

“We can make it work,” you answer. “I’m sorry that you feel that way.”

“It would be in your best interest to leave,” she snaps.

“Here you go, Mom,” Street says, placing a steaming mug of coffee beside her.

Karen looks between you and Street, then asks, “Could I speak to you alone, Jimmy?”

“Mom,” he begins, shaking his head.

“I actually need to use the restroom,” you offer, standing.

Street nods, points you in the right direction, then takes your previous seat. He brushes his fingers against yours as you pass him and prepares for his mother to be back to her usual antics.

“That girl is not good for you, Jimmy,” she warns. “She’s rude, uncaring, and she told me that I was a bad mother! Can you believe that? She practically admitted to using you for your law enforcement ties and for money.”

“That doesn’t sound like her,” Street replies, knowing perfectly well that you didn’t say anything rude or about using him.

Karen gets desperate then, unwilling to lose Street because he’s her access to everything. Jim can get her everything she needs and wants, and she will not let you win him over and take him from her.

“I’m sure it doesn’t, not to you,” Karen continues. “She mentioned another man, so I’d bet she’s not loyal. And you, Jimmy, are the most loyal and caring person I’ve ever met. I don’t want to see her hurt you.”

You linger by the door and scroll on your phone in the bathroom. You’re going to give Street and his mom five minutes to talk, you decide. Smiling as you reply to a message from Chris, you don’t concern yourself with hypothesizing what Karen is saying about you. When you do return, Street stands and rises from his seat.

“Did Chris text you too?” he asks. “About coming over to help with the paint?”

“She did,” you reply, following his lead. Chris texted about helping her paint; that wasn't a lie, but she doesn't need help until next weekend. If Street’s taking it as an out, you’ll go with him. You’d go anywhere with him, you think. “It was a pleasure,” you tell Karen. “I made blueberry scones earlier and thought you might like them. They're on the counter.”

“Thank you,” she replies flatly. “Be safe, Jimmy.”

“I’ll be back later, Mom,” he assures her.

As the door closes behind you, Street sighs and wraps his arm around your shoulder.

“C’mon, homewrecker,” he murmurs.

With a laugh, you ask, “What?”

“I’ll tell you later. I need ice cream.”

“And cookies?”

“So many cookies.”

After arriving at your home, you share a plate of fresh cookies and homemade ice cream with Street. He stays close to you, stealing kisses between cookies, and makes you feel incredibly loved. As always.

“Now that you’ve met the family, what do you think?” he inquires.

“If you and Tan ever get tired of SWAT, you should do standup comedy,” you begin.

As you continue raving about 20-David squad and envisioning yourself staying friends with them for years to come, Street smiles. He knew his team would like you, but he’s glad you’re joining the group as seamlessly as he hoped you would.

“Oh, Deacon texted me yesterday,” you remember. “I’m making Sam a birthday cake.”

“Charge him double,” Street jokes.

“I said Deacon not Hondo.”

“You talk to my friends more than I do.”

“They’re great.”

“But my mom is insane.”

Your eyes widen and you sit up straight. Pulling your leg beneath you, you promise, “I was not going to say that.”

“Oh, no, it wasn’t a question,” Street assures you, tugging you closer. “You’re not going to see her again unless you really want to.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. My mom… My mom isn’t good for me, I’ve known that for a long time. Today, she showed me that she isn’t good for you either, and, if she can’t be supportive of us, I’m done. She’s pulled me in too deep before and I’m not going to let her do it again.”

“She’s your mother, Street.”

“And I’m not risking what I have with you for her manipulative schemes. I think I have to cut that tie before I give her something I can’t get back.”

You nod, frowning sympathetically. You feel uncomfortable giving input on the situation because it’s Street’s decision. As you hug him, he knows exactly what he has to do. His mom was scared of losing him, but she was going to be the one to drive him away.

“Is that why you called me a homewrecker earlier?” you ask against Street’s shoulder.

“Oh, yeah, she thinks you’re seeing other men. Just using me for my loyalty, good looks, and SWAT money.”

“Please,” you scoff. “That order is way off.”

Street gently pries your arms off of him and shakes his head. “Apparently you also called her a bad mother and if she were a fraction less manipulative and self-serving I’d think she was finally engaging in some reflection.”

“I’m sorry that your relationship is the way it is,” you offer. “But I’m here for you, no matter what you need.”

Street looks at the last cookie, and you smile as you nudge him toward it. Someone knocks on your door, and you leave Street’s side to answer it.

“Uh, I think it’s for you,” you murmur as you open the door wider.

Deacon, Hondo, Tan, Chris, and Luca walk into your home and look expectantly at Street.

“She didn’t like her,” he answers with a shrug. “Hondo was right.”

“Say that one more time?” Hondo requests, raising his phone to record it.

“No.”

“It smells good in here,” Luca whispers to you.

“There’s cookies and a cake in the kitchen,” you tell them. “I still can’t get that cake right. The one time I made a passable version, someone knocked it out of my window.”

Street prepares to defend himself, but you whisper, “Luckily for me, I fell in love with him.”

“So,” Hondo begins as he returns from the kitchen. “How’d it go with your mom?”

“As expected,” Street says quickly. He turns to you and says, “I love you, too.”

A few weeks later, you wait at your open door for Street to arrive. His mom is going back to jail for a parole violation, and his entire team came by your bakery today after a stressful day of saving lives and arresting domestic terrorists. Now, you want to provide Street with the comfort he gives you daily.

“I love you,” Street says as he hugs you.

“I love you,” you reply, brushing your hand over his hair. “Come on in, I have something I want to show you.”

Street nods, catches your falling hand, and follows you inside. Sitting on the counter is a cake that looks nearly identical to the one that brought you together.

“I didn’t get to taste the first one, so I need you to let me know if this is a redemption cake.”

Street forces you to take several pictures with the cake before he takes a small bite. His eyes widen, and he nods rapidly.

“It tastes similar, but even better,” he says. “Can we have this at our wedding?”

“Sure,” you answer with a smile.

Street offers you his fork, and you admit it’s a good cake.

“Speaking of our wedding,” you say after taking another bite, “your future groomsmen invited us to dinner at Deacon and Annie’s tomorrow.”

“I don’t know if I should introduce you to Annie.”

“We’ve already been texting.”

Street shakes his head and kisses you before reminding you that he loves you. "And the cake," he adds as he pulls back and steals another piece.

[corpsebasil]

Karma Part 3

Ghostface is her protector, but maybe more than that.

Your relationship had grown from tentative friendship leading into more, to full blown dating.

You’d never had so much fun as you did with Ethan. He liked to buy you flowers ‘just because’ which never failed to make you smile. When doing homework together he’d reach over and draw a tiny heart in your notebook, then pretend he didn’t know he’d done it. He was a terrible cook but, to your delight, he’d taken up baking rather quickly, and fumbled through the kitchen with you as you taught him the basics.

Just a few days ago you both had gotten drunk and played Just Dance. Rasputin was his go to and lord the man could move. You’d almost fell backwards onto the ground when you’d attempted the squat jump movement he easily copied, and you’d both laughed, collapsing onto the floor in a pile of giggles.

But then there were the more intimate moments.

The moments when he’d prop his head on your shoulder when you were with your friends, or when he’d hold your hand, almost constantly. And the kissing… You’d never gone farther than just that, although you wanted to. But you happily settled for the nights when he’d kiss you until you thought you’d pass out, the whispers between the two of you lost in the dark.

And the first time he told you he loved you, kissing you slowly on the couch, you felt so filled to the brim with emotion you almost embarrassed yourself by crying. You only ran your hands through his hair, murmuring the words back, and allowed him to run a hand up the bare skin of your thigh.

But then Ghostface called you.

You were in your room, playing Solitaire on your laptop, when your phone buzzed.

“Babe? That you?”

“It can be, if that’s what you want.” Ghostface teased, and you couldn’t help the slight smirk that pulled at your mouth.

“Very funny.” You told him, standing up to examine your apartment. “But I’m happily taken. If you’re here, though, maybe you can give me some knife lessons. I’d like to know how to defend myself.”

“As much fun as that would be,” the killer said, his tone amused. “I’m not there. But you need to listen to me.”

You paused, clutching the phone a bit tighter.

“What is it, Ghostie?”

“It’s—” you heard a male laugh and grinned. You didn’t want to admit it—would never admit it to anyone—but you’d found yourself waiting for him to come back. His jokes, his protectiveness…you could use that in a friend. Not that you would tell anyone that you found a serial killer worthy of friendship. “Ghostie? Really?”

You laughed and could almost feel him rolling his eyes.

“Sure, laugh away, pretty girl. I’m sure you’ll find it hilarious when I’m the one that has to save your ass once again.”

“Yeah, whatever.” You grumbled, ignoring the blush that rose on your face at his words. You had a boyfriend damnit. “So what do you want? I’m assuming this isn’t a pleasure call.”

“Gale Weathers is going to be carved up in about twenty minutes, by my guess.” He deadpanned, and you stilled. “My…cohort, if you will, is on their way. If you want to help her, like you’ve said you do, then go. I’ll meet you there.”

“Why would you help me?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing. “You’ve gone out of your way to save me multiple times now. Why?”

“Let’s call it an investment.” He said, and you bristled a bit. “Take it as a compliment, baby. I’m not letting you go just yet.”

“Oh please.” You scoffed, but your mind was racing back to Gale as you grabbed your purse and slid your shoes on. “I’m headed there. No fucking jump scares or I might hit you. My boyfriend’s been teaching me a bit of self defense.”

Your feet were loud on the stairs as you rushed out of the complex, headed to your car. You barely used the thing as you preferred walking, but today was an emergency.

“Boyfriend, huh?” Ghostface asked, his tone practically seductive as you drove out of the parking lot towards Gale’s place. “Ethan, is it?”

“Yes.” You purred. “How’d you know?”

“Tall, incredibly good looking? How could I not?”

You paused.

Your thoughts seemed to glitch at that response, your reply a bit too long for comfort. What in the—

“Y/N?”

“Yeah. I’m on my way I’ll—I’ll see you there.”

“Y/N, wait—”

You hung up, your breathing uneven as you glanced down momentarily at the blocked caller ID. The gears were turning in your brain, slowly, as you tried to think. There was something nagging you, something not right about Ghostface. Something familiar.

You blinked, shoving away any insane thoughts, and screeched into Gale’s parking lot minutes later.

-

You were terrified.

You’d never been so scared for your life, not when you’d been with Gale, urging the reporter to leave and call police. Not when Ghostface had thrown Gale’s boyfriend, dead, to the floor. You backed away, rushing to hide, but there was nowhere to go.

Gale was fighting—Gale was the main target here, not you. And the worst part was, you knew in your gut that this wasn’t your Ghostface. This person would gladly kill you, and would have no remorse.

You were paralyzed. Paralyzed as Gale stormed back into the living-room with a gun, her phone to her ear. You stared with wide eyes as she motioned for you to duck down behind the kitchen island, hiding yourself from sight. You felt your chest growing tight. It was just like before—just like before when you’d been cornered with nowhere else to go.

Gale hung up, putting the Ghostface on hold, of all things, and after a few seconds of tense silence you heard a phone ring. You covered your ears with your hands as shots fired, and then Gale was screaming, and you were shaking so bad you thought you might puke.

You didn’t know what to do. Didn’t want to be a coward, not now, not ever, so you stood, picking up a ceramic dinner plate and hurling it at Ghostface’s head. It slammed into them just before it could stab Gale again, and you threw another, then another. The last one missed and you ran, screaming as the Ghostface—god they were fast—chased you down.

You ran, but not fast enough, not when they slashed out at you and tore a gash through your arm. You shrieked, stumbling, and knocked a chair in their path as you searched for anywhere to hide.

And then there was only you, and the corner of the room, and no where to go.

“I’m going to enjoy this, bitch.” Ghostface snarled, flipping their knife in their hand.

You threw your hands up, as if that would stop it, when a loud cracking sound filled the space as the locked door banged open.

You knew who it was—could feel it in your gut as you saw him sprint for the person holding a knife towards you.

Ethan was Ghostface.

He was Ghostface. The one who’d been saving you this entire time. You’d wondered, absentmindedly, but knew for sure, right then, when he’d launched himself in front of the second Ghostface, tearing across the room to tackle whoever was behind the other mask.

You screamed as you cowered in the corner, watching as he and the other Ghostface rolled on the floor, he attempting to restrain them, them fighting back. They were yelling at each other, so loud you could barely make out what they were saying. But then the other Ghostface shoved him off and ran, sprinting out the door as fast as they could.

Ethan turned to you, breathing hard, the white of his mask catching the light. You moved forward, only a step; he was Ghostface. A killer. But you loved him. You loved him.

You stepped forward as your mouth wobbled, tears falling down your face as you moved to him. He was trembling, breathing hard, as you pulled his mask off and looked at him. His expression was one of agony and sorrow, shaking his head slowly at you as if to convey words he didn’t have.

He didn’t need to.

You kissed him, tugging him down to you by the black robes you’d grown used to, had grown to trust, and he let out a low, anguished noise into your mouth. Ethan was crying when you pulled away, his head dropping to your shoulder as he he clutched you to him.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, squeezing you tighter when you looped your arms around his neck. “I’m sorry baby, I wanted to tell you.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” You swallowed roughly, the pain in your arm momentarily forgotten at the moment. “It’s okay. I trust you.”

“I tried to protect you. I wanted you safe I never should’ve asked you to come here—”

“Ethan, look at me.” He did, pulling his head back, and you grasped his face in your hands, resting your forehead against his own. “I love you, E. I trust you, okay? We’re gonna find a way to get you out of this—”

“Still bleeding over here.” Gale called out to you both, and you turned. You were surprised she’d survived. “As creepily touching as this is.”

“Ethan, call an ambulance.” You told him, pressing one last kiss to his mouth before whispering, “and get the Hell out of here. Fast.”

He nodded and bolted, already pulling out his phone, as you dropped beside Gale and helped put pressure on her wound.

-

The second you were cleared by the medics, a gauzy bandage wrapped around your arm, you got to your apartment as fast as you physically could. Ethan was already there, putting clothes and other objects of yours into a suitcase. You gaped at him and shut the front door, locking it behind him.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Getting you out of here.” He said, still focused on his work.

“Ethan what—what are you talking about?”

“The theater,” he looked up at you, eyes slightly crazed. “It’s a trap.” He gestured to the bag. “We’ll get you on a bus or a plane or something.”

“Ethan I am not leaving you.”

“Shit, Y/N.” He cursed, standing up and crossing the room. He placed a kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, then pulled back. “Please let me get you out. I won’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you.”

“And I’d rather die than see something happen to you.”

He pressed his forehead against yours, his brow furrowed as he sighed, holding you close. He ran a hand over your hair and pressed his lips your temple, and you could feel Ethan’s heart racing through the shirt he now wore.

“At least..at least put some things in my backpack. Just in case.” You could hear his uneven breathing and you slid your hands to his neck, holding him tighter. Then his chest heaved, and you felt a drop of wetness against your face. “I cant watch you die.”

“I’m not going to die. We’re both going to be fine.” You promised, and kissed him. “Ghostie.”

He held you tight as a half-hearted laugh left him, holding you so close you could feel almost every inch of him. And then he was lifting you, carrying you to your room, where he laid with you on the bed, kissing you and running his hands over your skin.

“I love you.” He murmured, lips soft on your own, and you held him tight, desperate to have him here with you for the little time you had left.

stg there’s only ONE PART LEFT BE PATIENT AND MAKE SURE TO REBLOG FOLLOW AND COMMENT for PART FOURRRR

tag list:

@pagesfalling @taetae123094 @iloveneilperry @hopefulcandywitch

@bokutoswifey

[stanzo75]

hogsmeade date?<3

Storyline: George wants to ask y/n on a date to hogsmeade but is scared of rejection.

Background: y/n is in ron’s year, best friends with fred and george through ron. George has a HUGE crush on them, y/n likes him back but is better at containing it.

pairing: George Weasley x reader

(my requests are always open 🫶)

You are sitting in the common room with Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Neville, all talking about weekend plans. It was Ron who brought up the topic, asking everyone what they planned to do at hogsmeade. You hadn't gotten the chance to speak yet, everyone addin in their plans one by one. Harry was lucky enough to get Fred to agree to sneaking him in again, and you wondered why he said just Fred and not George as well. Usually those two did everything together, you would know, if they're not off causing trouble they're always at your side. Maybe George had something to do that day? You felt a pang of disappointment, you had wanted to ask him to accompany you during the trip. You pushed the confusion and disappointment down as you listened to everyone else speak. Hermione was going with Ginny to J. Pippin's potions shop with Ginny to restock on supplies for Snape's class and work out where to stop as they went. Ron was going to Zonko’s and honeydukes with Harry, once Harry arrived. Neville was insistent on making a strict schedule so he could visit The Magic Neep, Dogweed and Deathcap, Brood and Peck, while still leaving room to spend the rest of his time at Honeydukes. It was quite interesting to listen to Neville talk about those shops, you'd never cared much for plants or beasts but you admired Neville's interest in the subjects. Suddenly ron piped in, turning to you,

“What do you plan on doing?”

You had not yet realized you didn't know what to do anymore without George, and you didn't want to intrude on anyone else’s plans.

“I think i'll just sit at the three broomsticks” you reply quietly.

Surprisingly, Ron looks pleased and nods, quickly changing the topic. 

Feeling left out, eventually you just get up to go roam the halls. As you're walking past the kitchens, Fred and George pop out, looking pleased. George seems to light up when he sees you, making his way over to you with a smile, Fred follows behind as he stuffs baked goods into his pockets.

“Hello gorgeous, what are you doing out here? Ron told me you'd be up in the common room with them.” he asks.

You don't want to admit the real reason you left so you reply with,

 “It was getting too stuffy in there, I needed fresh air.”

Fred suddenly speaks up,

“I'm going off to see angelina!! George dont forget what we talked about”

You watch as fred moves a painting nearby and dips into the passageway behind it, it was the first secret passage george had ever shown you. You turn to George with a puzzled look.

“What is he talking about?”

George looks flustered for a moment before composing himself.

“It's nothing! I mean, its something stupid, nothing important”

He looks as if he's holding something back, but you don't pry.

“Want to uh, head up to my dorm with me? I've got new charms to try” he asks, looking hopeful.

You smile and nod, always happy to spend time with George, especially when he’s showing off new flashy charms he learned. As you enter the common room, your friends are all still chatting. When Ron spots the two of you he shoots George a questioning glance, and George shakes his head back. Ron groans and turns back to his conversation. That was weird, why are both ron AND fred being strange? Was George planning some extraordinary prank? Without you knowing? George awkwardly shrugs it off and gently grabs your hand to lead you away to his dorm. His hand felt so natural in yours, you're not even sure if he meant to do it. As you arrive in his dorm, you flop down on his bed, propping your head up with your hands to watch him. 

“Why are Ron and Fred acting so weird?” you blurt out, curiosity taking over. He looks stunned for a moment, as if trying to come up with a believable response. 

“Don't lie to me George,” you say sternly, noticing his brain working to fabricate a story, “does it have something to do with the trip to hogsmeade?” 

It felt sort of stalkerish to ask that, but it had been picking at your mind ever since you learned of it. 

He goes a deep shade of red, you couldn't tell if it was blush or anger, probably both.

“Which one of them told you?” he sounds a mixture of nervousness and anger, maybe a bit of sadness? You couldn't exactly tell. 

“Tell me what?” you ask, clearly this was deeper than you thought. What did their secrecy have to do with you? 

He hesitates for a moment, before asking “you actually don't know?”

“ know WHAT george? All I know is that Ron and Fred are being weird, and that Fred is helping Harry into Hogsmeade but for some reason you aren't this time. It just sounds to me like you are planning something  stupid you don't want me to know about. What kind of prank are you planning george?” you say, watching him intensely.

He processes your words for a moment before sighing in relief, only for his shoulders to tense back up when he realizes he has to explain to you.

He walks over to the bed, sitting beside you as you sit up as well to face him.

“Listen, I wanted to ask you on a date to Hogsmeade and they've been pestering me about it ever since I mentioned it, but i havent had the courage to actually ask you. I understand if you say no, you're probably already busy with your friends anyways. I just thought it'd be easier to not ask rather than be rejected.” he says quietly, “just promise me this won't ruin our friendship, i can't lose you”

You sit still for a moment. Is this real? Is it finally happening?

He takes your silence as a no, and looks absolutely heartbroken, you can see his jaw clenching in an attempt not to cry.

“George,” you say softly, and he looks back at you, he looks as if he's preparing himself for bad news, “you should've asked me, i'd love to go with you”

His face lights up, his stress evidently melting away, “you mean it?”

“Of course I mean it! I wasn't even going with any friends, i was going to sit alone at the three broomsticks because i had been hoping you'd be there, but then i heard you weren't going with fred and i assumed you were going with someone else, or that you just didn't want to go” you explain. He smiles softly, “you know i'd never abandon you for someone else” he says, moving closer to you to look you in the eyes. You feel a warm surge spread through your body, completely endorsed in the smile on his face. You lean in instinctively, and in return you feel his lips pressing against yours, his hands moving to your hips. You kiss him for a few moments, but it feels like forever, you can feel your heart beating so hard it might explode, kissing him felt like fireworks. When the kiss is finally broken, he pulls away looking mesmerized, his cheeks turned a light red. 

“I choose the shops we go into though” you say jokingly,

He chuckles and responds, “whatever you want, love”

[prettiestgrlinthemorguexo]

fic where baker reader and lucifer both really like each other but are too scared to admit their feelings so reader makes him a cupcake with a frosting duck on top as a surprise

Sweet duckcakes ( Lucifer Morningstar x Baker! Reader)

Thank you for the request anonymous! This is such a cute idea myself!!! Feel free to leave more request

Idk why but I feel like Lucifer would love the duck cake from Bluey.

I legit accidentally deleted this half way through writing it, I could cry

NOT PROOF READ!!

Warnings: stealing my baker reader stuff on how they started working in the hotel from my last fic, season 2 headcanon

⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧ ⛧☾༺♰༻☽⛧

No ones POV:

Y/N has been working in the Hazbin hotel since day one, only then it was called ‘Happy Hotel’ Charlie employed them to be the head chef, prepare meals of staff and residents. It also meant Y/N could stay rent free so they accepted. Only then, back when it was only them, Charlie, Vaggie and the only resident, Angel dust. But as time has past, the Hotel has become more lively. Alastor, Husk and Nifty join the staff and another resident named Sir Pentious.

Even though Y/N was happy to see Charlie’s dreamed come true, but with each new person in the hotel mean more and more food to make, they were almost nearly in the kitchen all the time but they didn’t mind.

With the extermination looming closer, Charlie had no choice but to call her dad for help. Y/N was happy to know he accepted to come, To prepare for his visit Charlie asked Y/N to bake for his visit, which they happily did. They quickly run into the kitchen with Nifty following behind, she wanted to make cookies. Y/N and Nifty baked away, while nifty worked on cookies, Y/N chose cupcakes!

Nifty finshed first and ran into the main room while they stay behind so they could decorate the cupcakes. After 30 minutes they were done and they took them to the main room. As they turned the corner they see a rather weird sight…Alastor and Lucifer is a battle on who’s the better father. Y/N kinda stood there watching the two with everyone else till they were interrupted by someone named Mimsy, this finally allowed them to meet Lucifer.

“Dad, this Y/N, our head chef!” Charlie moves her dad over to them and they give a sweet smile to him. “It’s nice to finally meet you your majesty.”, as they said this they moved their tray to one hand and extended their now free hand, they took notice of Lucifer’s small blush. He took your hand, Y/N couldn’t help but notice his soft hands, “please call me Lucifer.” He said to you with a smile. “Why thank you..” they said to him as they remembered the treats. “Oh!” They said mainly to themself, they hold out the tray. “Please take one I made these for your visit.”

Lucifer took the treat in his hand looking over it, it had red frosting with a little apple slice in it. “Why thank you.” Lucifer said as he took one of the frosted treat and took a bite of it. He eyes life up as he tasted it. “This is amazing!” He said as he ate, Y/N couldn’t help but feel their heart race as this words. “They’re’s a reason they are the head chef! Now to the rest of the hotel,” Charlie continued to speak and show off the hotel. Y/N place the tray down on the nearby table and as they turn they couldn’t help but notice his eyes on them, they blushed and felt their own heart race.

Little did they know that was only the beginning. After his eventful visit, where him and Charlie both agreed to make an effort, he was in the hotel more. While he spent time with his daughter he always saw Y/N, he was great company to have, always so sweet. It was hard to admit they had growing feeling for him, how could they? He was her bosses father and the king of hell.

It only became worst after the hotel was destroyed and was rebuilt, during the process of rebuilding it, Lucifer moved in. Though Y/N believed it would be a blessing in disguise. You guys were frequently hanging out together, he was always so sweet, he loved to help cook and back with you. Y/N was very thankful for that considering how many more people were not in the hotel, but, this only has their feeling grow more…both their feelings. Lucifer would be lying if he said he didn’t like Y/N they were a dove…the light in the dark.

There were many nights they work yourself too hard and feel alseep in the kitchen only to wake up on one of the couches with a blanket they recognized…it belong to Lucifer. Each time they wanted to keep it, it smelled just like him, but, each time they returned it. They leave it folded with a nice little note. Lucifer loved the notes keeping them in a box, he also sleeps with each blanket, he smell of your are your perfume is intoxicating.

Though pretty much everyone was aware of both their feelings for each other neither would admit it, so in fashion of the residents of the hotel, they decided to help by dropping small (rather obvious) hints, though Charlie was the most discreet about her hints, mainly at hinting at things to you both like, similar interests you things both like. One thing Y/N took of something from Charlie’s and from Lucifer himself…he seem to really love ducks, from gifting them rubber ducks and leaving rubber ducks around the hotel.

One night after making up on the couch with a certain blanket on them, they had to thank him and a perfect idea came into their head. They Return the blanket back with another note, Y/N quickly made their way into the kitchen, ready to bake their morning away for Lucifer’s surprise.

TIME SKIP

Lucifer woke up to the sound of soft knocking, he recognized this knock, it was Y/N’s. He quickly shot up out of his bed running to the door. He nearly swung open the door to see your face, what a perfect thing to make up to, “good morning do-“ Lucifer stopped mid sentence noticing a gray with a cover in their hands, he looked back up at their E/C eyes. “What’s that?” He asked curiously. Y/N could help but smile he looked so handsome after waking up. (He wears duckie pajamas.) “may I come in?” Y/N asked happily, Lucifer blushed softly and nodded his head moving out of the way of the door “o-of course come in!”

Y/N walked in admiring his room, it was so elegant looking, they then turned to face him “I want to say thank you for always taking care of me, not leaving me to sleep in the kitchen floor means a lot to me, so, I want to say thank you.” They said as they placed the tray down on the dresser. “And I know you love ducks so..” Y/N them wiped off the cover revealing 6 cupcakes! Not just any cupcakes, they were Vanilla cupcakes with yellow frosting and on top were little ducks made of frosting. Lucifer looked wides eyed at them, before look at their smiling face. “You made these for me?” He asked softly.

“Of course!” They said happily, you’ve always helped me out and you mean a lot to me..” Lucifer stay quiet before quickly hugging them tight. “Thank you Y/N..” he said softly, the hug caught Y/N by surprise but they quickly hugged back a soft blush on their face. “Anything for you..”

Tag list

@reverse-soe @kazurami14 @netheris @musicb33nsstuff @rainycloud858 @yaimlight @erissco @aarkhamkknight @pooplyface1423 @purplethree @dog55teeth

[thatmexisaurusrex]

Comes up to the front of the room with pitch notecards in hand, okay, I have an idea that has two very controversial things in it. And idk if people want this, but I keep thinking about it, so here goes nothing.

So, I was thinking, post-breakup, Tommy and Buck bubble each other not talking. Tommy has spiraled inwardly. Buck is using up all the flour in Los Angeles.

It's a problem.

On a call one of them gets on shift, there is a big pileup. A huge pileup.

And in the pileup?

Connor, Kameron, and their son.

The one Buck helped them have with his donor sperm. All of them have significant injuries. Maybe either Connor or Kameron are already dead. They're rushed to the hospital. The only one who survives - the kid.

Buck, who is the biological father of the kid and never technically waved his rights, decides he should take the kid in. He doesn't know if there's anyone there for the kid other than him. There hadn't seemed to be when he was helping Connor and Kameron out. He kind of impulsively rushes into it.

However, there seems to be a wrinkle. Connor and Kameron had a will. Their will states that if they were to die, it designates the child's guardian to be Kameron's older brother. And who would that be?

Tommy Kinard.

And what at first looks like it could possibly become a messy custody battle ends up settling in a co-parenting situation where the kid spends time with both of them.

And as they keep co-parenting, well, maybe something happens to Buck's loft. A pipe bursts, something.

So, Buck decides to stay at Tommy's place as the pipe gets fixed. And maybe, well, Buck never leaves. It's kind of nice to be all under the same roof, after all.

And maybe they start to actually talk about why they broke up. Why Tommy was scared. Why Buck rushed into the idea of potential marriage down the line and moving in without saying I love you first. Talk about all the baking and talk about the bubbling.

They're reluctant at first to try to make up; try to date. Because what if it doesn't work out again? And where would that leave the kid?

While they figure themselves out, another devastating thing hits them. The kid? He is predisposed to cancer, and he gets juvenile leukemia.

And you're probably thinking it's going to be Buck. Buck's going to be the donor again. And he's also going to have to go through what his parents had all those years ago.

But.

He's not a match.

Buck is not a match.

But Tommy is.

And it's this whole vortex of unpacking childhood trauma while coming together for this kid that's just really become part of their lives. And it works out because I can't bring myself to not let it work out, but it's a lot.

And by the end of it, after the kid is in remission, after everything, they admit it. They admit they want this. They want to be together. They want to be a couple. They want to be a family with this kid.

And it's beautiful.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Of toppings and fillings

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, day 19

Prompt: Dessert

Rated: M

Tags: Established relationship; Idiots in love; Competitive idiots, to be more specific; Sexually explicit language; Sexual innuendo; Eddie is a little shit

It starts out innocently enough. Steve is lounging on the couch, Eddie sprawled on top of him. On the television, some home-making show is running, but Steve has dropped into a pleasant doze and isn't really paying attention. 

Until Eddie says, “Man, I could go for some of that right now.” 

Steve blinks at the screen.

“And there it is,” chirps the host. “Crispy meringue with that juicy filling underneath, which is the perfect mix of sweet and tart. With this delicious dessert, your family will-” 

Steve huffs. “It probably isn't half as good as my nonna's recipe. Her pies were the best.”

“Hah!” Eddie exclaims, propping himself up and ignoring the pained groan when his elbows dig into Steve’s ribs. “That only shows you never tried my granny’s baking.”

“Ugh, get off me,” Steve wheezes. He tries to shove Eddie away, only he’ll have none of it, and within seconds, things escalate into a full-on wrestling match. “Are you trying to insult my nonna’s baking?” 

“My granny’s baking,” Eddie purrs, pinning Steve’s wrists over his head. His breath fans over Steve's face, soft and warm. “Would fuck your nonna’s baking against the kitchen counter like a little bitch, and your nonna’s baking would enjoy it.” 

Steve sputters. Eddie smirks. 

Steve feels his teeth grit. 

“Oh yeah?” Prove it, Munson.” 

*

“Okay,” says Robin. “Walk me through this again. He shit-talked your nonna, so you made a bet on whose recipe was better? You’re supposed to whisk it, dingus.” 

Steve groans. His wrist is hurting. There’s dough stuck in his hair. “Yes, Robin, for the fifth time. Why is that so hard to understand?”

“Why is it so hard to understand the difference between whisking and stirring?” she snaps, making to snatch the bowl from his hands.

“Hey,” Dustin bellows. He’s standing next to Eddie, who is furiously attacking his own bowl with the hand mixer, bits of filling spraying in all directions. “No cheating, he’s supposed to do it alone.”

“Cut him some slack, Henderson,” Eddie says, tossing a grin in Steve’s direction. “It’s hard, getting a proper filling all on your own.” 

Robin slouches back against the counter, hiding her scowl behind nonna’s cookbook.

“It seems a bit excessive is all I'm saying. You could’ve bet for money, like normal people? How am I ever supposed to eat anything from your kitchen again, knowing that you’ve been on your knees in here, scrubbing dough off the floor, clad in nothing but a frilly apron, have you thought about that? It’s unhygienic, Steve!” 

“Jesus, shut up,” Steve hisses, throwing a frantic look at Dustin. Luckily, he’s busy shouting at Eddie about tempering the eggs, whatever that means. “And for the record, I’m not losing this. I’ve been cooking for myself since I was ten years old, while Eddie … I’ve seen him burn SphaghettiOs, Rob. There’s no way!” 

“Cooking is different from baking, though,” she says. “I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you. Say, is it supposed to look like scrambled eggs?” 

“Whoops,” Eddie says, knocking a bag of flour off the counter with his elbow. “Leave it, Henderson. I’m sure Steve won’t mind cleaning it up later.” 

Steve growls, throwing his whisk down so hard it bounces off the counter and hits the nearest wall.

“C’mon, let’s get this thing in the oven.” 

*

“Esteemed jury,” Eddie declares, setting his pie down next to Steve’s. “This is it, the moment of truth. Two pies have entered into this contest, but only one shall emerge victorious, forever determining who-” 

“Quit it,” Steve says. “Or are you scared to admit defeat? Your topping is as flat as your ass.”

He nods down at their creations. The perfect golden tufts of meringue crowning his own, and the unimpressive, brown crust on Eddie’s.

Eddie grins. “Why don’t you leave your verdict on my topping skills for later, big boy?” 

The kids, who’ve been following the exchange with swiveling heads, frown. 

“Are you still talking about pie?” El asks. “It doesn’t seem like you’re still talking about-”

Robin sighs. “Just cut them and get this over with.” 

Steve nods, grabbing one of the knives from her hand while Eddie takes the second. 

“Look at this and weep, Munson,” he says, cutting a slice and lifting it out of the pan for everyone to see. “Perfect, homemade lemon meringue pie. Crisp on the outside and soft on the inside, just as it should-” 

The topping slides off. A chorus of ooofs goes through the spectators.

“Erm, that’s okay,” Steve says. “I’m sure it still tastes fine, it's just-” 

The filling dissolves into a puddle. It lands next to the soggy pile of topping with a wet squelch. The ooofs turn into eeews. Robin cringes. 

“Yeah, no offense, dingus, but I’m not eating that. Gives me icky mouth feels just looking at it.” 

It’s Will’s voice that makes them both turn around.

“Oh, wow! That looks delicious, Eddie!” 

“Thank you,” Eddie says as the kids scramble to hold their plates out to him. With a large smile in Steve’s direction, he hands a particularly large slice to Will. A perfectly shaped slice of bright yellow pie with a beautiful, firm topping of meringue on top. It’s snowy white under the brown crust. 

Steve drops the knife. 

“But I don’t- …” he mutters, sinking down into a chair with wobbly legs. “How did you- … You don’t even know how to cook!” 

“I don’t,” Eddie smiles indulgently, sliding him a plate. “But I’ve been watching my granny bake since I was tall enough to peep over the counter.”

He presses a fork into Steve’s hand and a kiss to his cheek, patting his shoulder as he saunters off towards the kitchen. 

“Enjoy your pie, sweetheart. I’ll get the cleaning supplies from the closet. The apron, too.” 

Steve gulps around his first bite of pie. 

More holiday drabbles

Looks like his nonna’s baking isn't the only thing that's gonna get fucked.

[nerdyjournals]

Sweet Sugar

ship: skz x diabetic!reader

Note: i, myself, am a type 2 diabetic. So a lot of these things come from my experience.

WARNING: MENTIONS OF INJECTIONS AND NEEDLES

Hyung Line. Maknae Line.

Han

Man does not know how to react when he sees you munching on a chocolate bar. His first instinct is to smack it out of your hand and across the room

You look up to him, confused and awaiting an explanation. "I thought you can't have sugar."

He watches as you pull out your insulin pump and show him your low number. You say that it's a quick spike or a hospital visit, and you'd really prefer to stay as far from the hospital as possible.

This boy literally pulls out a pen and a notepad, sits in front of you, and goes "tell me more."

He now carries mints and other small candies in his pockets, regardless of what he's doing, as a precaution. The idea of you in a hospital scares him.

Felix

Poor boy really didn't understand why you weren't trying his latest batch. You had always snuck in during prep time, but the place was too quiet

He found you sleeping on the couch, chin tucked against your chest, almost like you hadn't intended to sleep....which you didn't. His heart sank so fast when you didn't wake up with his words and touch.

His eyes caught your phone and he remembered the app you shared. Pulling out his phone, he urged it to hurry before it displayed a big 62. You had never been that low before. You must have been saving your spike for the sweets.

You woke to a straw being pushed between your lips and worried eyes looking down at you. Immediately understanding, you sipped away as Felix pulled you to a more comfortable position. He held you close and sighed as your numbers slowly crawled up.

Seungmin

He may never show it, but he cared a lot about you. When you admitted your condition, he spent hours upon days researching as much as he could to learn.

You went to the grocery store together once and he observed all the items you picked up and put down, taking note of what they were and the sugar count. He found friendly alternatives and had them delivered to his dorm.

It was these small acts that had you realizing that Seungmin had this special kind of love language. Big gestures may not be his thing, but the small things show you that he is listening.

I.N

"Why are you only eating half the bread?" Yeah, why are you insulting the bread man? Well, maybe because carbs shoot your levels to Jupiter and beyond.

When you admitted this, he was a little confused. He saw you down pastries and other baked goods almost weekly. What he didn't know is that you would save your spike for him. Today, however, you dropped a lot and had to have a snack.

You told him that you had been slowly switching diets that cut down on carbs, a keto diet you believe it was called.

He listened patiently as you spoke, already taking mental notes of other places you can go with him without guilt or starvation.

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[ephie-om]

Everyone meet my son

Day 12: Luke

Luke was scared. No matter how hard he tried, everyone could tell. He didn’t want to be scared. Everyone had told him that he should be brave. He had Simeon with him, after all. In the Celestial Realm, he was one of the most outgoing angels his age. So why did everyone have to call him a stupid nickname down here? He didn’t even know what a chihuahua was until Solomon had shown him a video. Did the demons really think he shook like a tiny dog?

He tried his best to make friends, but all the demons treated him like a little kid. He didn’t want to be treated like a kid. He saw how they acted with their friends and family and couldn’t understand why he didn’t fit in. But he put his head down and did his best anyway.

They liked to make jokes that they didn’t think he could hear. Jokes about being a chihuahua, but also jokes about angels. And kids. Did they forget they used to be just like him? Maybe they were a little bit right. Maybe he was stuck up and not willing to see other sides of an argument, and maybe he was a little too scared of demons. It’s not like they were helping though, not with the jokes about how good he might taste.

Baking was supposed to be for Michael. Something to tie him back to the Celestial Realm, a skill he could work on while he was down here. When Barbatos offered to bake with him, he was skeptical. And scared. He refused in a panic, and he thought that was that. The butler would call him rude and joke about him with everybody else. But that wasn’t what happened. He offered again the next week. Luke was confused now more than he was scared. He reasoned that if he really wanted to impress Michael, he should try to learn everything he could. So he accepted.

The first time baking with Barbatos twisted his stomach in knots. He had heard how mean Barbatos could be from Solomon, and he wasn’t eager to see that for himself. But he hadn’t been mean at all. He praised Luke on his dough consistency and shared a story about how he messed up this recipe a long time ago. It settled his stomach, and he felt a rare smile on his face. Simeon had been insufferable after that day, always nagging him to go spend time with Barbatos again.

He liked Barbatos. He would never admit that, but he was a bad liar anyway. He didn’t really mind if Barbatos knew either. He was the nicest out of the demons. Maybe it had something to do with being the oldest. Would he get wise like Barbatos in a few millennia? He hoped so.

Barbatos never yelled at him or called him names. He expected it to happen at least once, but it never did. It took him a long time, but he started to relax. He talked about himself. How he didn’t like how dark the Devildom was, but he liked how pretty the lights were. How Simeon was always telling people weird stuff about him. How Michael liked sweets. Barbatos asked him if that was why he was learning how to bake better, and he hesitated. He didn’t know why he hesitated; that was the right answer.

But he thought about it laying in bed that night, and he thought that maybe it had two right answers. He was learning for Michael, but he was also learning for something else. He couldn’t put a name to that reason, but it warmed his heart to think about it anyways. The reason felt like Solomon smiling as he grabbed a cookie from a plate. It felt like Beelzebub asking if Luke had made anything new to try the moment he stepped through the door. It felt like Barbatos’ hand over his as he tried a new technique.

One night before bed, he asked Simeon if it was wrong to have two reasons to do something. Simeon hesitated and asked what he meant. He explained, and Simeon got a strange look in his eyes. It was a look he saw in Lucifer’s eyes most often, and it looked weird on Simeon. He chose his words carefully. He told Luke that he should think about how he felt inside. If he felt like his reasons were a part of him, then he should go ahead and do it. Luke felt like both of his reasons were deep in his heart, so he went to bed happy.

Simeon stayed up late that night, and Luke pretended not to notice the next morning.

He had been thinking about it for a long time, and finally decided he would try something new. So he put on his jacket and walked over to the Demon Lord’s castle. It was huge, but it looked especially big when he was all alone. But he was brave, so he walked right up to the door and knocked. A Little D had answered him, and Luke was grateful he didn’t have to bend his neck so far to look up. He asked if Barbatos was free, and the Little D went to go get him.

Barbatos appeared at the door smelling like chemicals. He told Luke he was cleaning the furniture in the kitchen and Luke asked if he would like to bake together when he was done. Barbatos smiled down at him and Luke thought about his second reason again. They made cake pops, a simple treat. Diavolo smelled the chocolate from his office and came to try one, saying it was the best thing he’d had all day. While they waited for the rest to bake, Luke sat on a tall stool in the kitchen. He watched Barbatos clean the counter carefully and he was struck with an odd feeling. Sitting here in the Demon Lord’s Castle felt… oddly like home.

If he could have two reasons to bake, he could definitely have two homes, he thought. Barbatos asked him what he was thinking about, and he didn’t want him to get that same look Simeon had, so he said he was thinking about a new recipe. He thought Barbatos knew he was lying, but he took the answer anyway. They sat together and tried their warm cake pops, and Luke felt like maybe the Devildom wasn’t the horrible hell everyone said it was.

[pascal-princess]

[ playing dangerous ]

a/n: this is my first ever fic so pls be kind!! also not proofread so any mistakes i apologise.

— warnings : dark fic (18+), joel isn’t what you think in this, domestic abuse! (not joel), drugging, dom!joel, big!joel/small!reader, age gap (not mentioned but it’s there, around 26 years), kidnap if you squint ig. + plus tommy.

“Joel it’s all kickin’ off next door man”

Tommy’s voice filled his ears through the phone as he sighed… not again… surely.

“What this time?”

“It’s that dude, I ain’t gotta clue what his problem is but she’s gettin’ the brunt of it yet again” Tommy’s eyes scanned through the blinds that were peeled apart by his fingers, peering into your window trying to get a good visual of what was going on.

This had been going on for the past few months, your boyfriend Rick had a bad gambling addiction… and based on his results you’d either get pounded brutally into the bed as his victory celebration, despite your cries. Or… like today; a hissy fit which every time without fail, resulted in bruises and tears, as his anger at his loss seemed to be all your fault.

This time; tommy could hear the heavy thuds of furniture being thrown across rooms, and twinkles of glass that smashed beneath your feet. He could hear the soft whimpers and sobs that left your body as Rick practically screamed at you.

“it’s all your fault you fuckin’ bitch, you make me do this”

“Joel what do i do, man? I can’t jus’ leave er’”

“Stay where you are, I’m comin’ home”

Joel hung up the phone and got into his pick-up truck and began the short drive home; he knew you were a sweetheart, a soft innocent angel who wouldn’t hurt a fly. You always smiled at him and even once baked him cookies, which he admired for a good few days before throwing his diet out the window, consuming the gooey chocolate chip delights you made. He couldn’t understand why you stayed, why you let Rick treat you the way he did. He also couldn’t understand how Rick could treat you such a way.

Maybe you were secretly an awful person, he thought… or hoped. Because the thought of someone as kind and caring as you receiving the exact opposite just because of the fact that you won’t fight back killed him inside. He refused to admit the feeling of jealousy that ached inside of him; but he often thought of what it’d be like to hold you at night, to be the man to make you smile, to wipe away your tears instead of being the dick that caused them.

His anger grew more and more as he approached his driveway, speeding up a bit as he swerved in and pulled to a halt, the tires screeching against the concrete. He threw open his door and made the short walk to your front porch, knuckles thumping against the wood as he waited for a response… that was when he realised… silence.

He banged again and called your name this time, willing you for a response. You could’ve heard a pin drop, and it was scaring him.

He was just about to kick the door down when he heard the lock of the door flick, and watched as it slowly peeled open, too slow.

“Joel?” your cracking voice called his name and he could’ve burst into tears himself.

“Sweetheart, ya’ alright?” he pushed open the door a little more to get a view of your face, and god he wished he hadn’t.

“Honey” He sighed, eyeing the swelling bruise that imprinted itself onto your cheek, the redness of your face from crying just intensifying it.

“Joel, please just go” you kept yourself hidden, yes, Rick was gone. He walked out as soon as he was finished releasing his stress, with the words “i’ll be back later” but you still felt the quivers of fear make their way through your body.

“I can’t do that, you know i can’t” His hands were placed on his hips as he scanned everywhere he could for more marks, and all he could see was bruises, old and new, littered across your arms. Even the softness of your feet covered in dried blood from stepping on the glass.

When that caught his eye he knew you needed attention.

“Right, you’re comin’ over so i can get ya cleaned up” He reached for your hand but you pulled back abruptly.

“I can’t, Joel. I can’t leave”

“Then i’ll carry you”

“You don’t get it!” you raised your voice a little louder to get the message across.

“You’re right, I don’t get it. But I ain’t gonna leave you alone right now so you either move, or I move ya myself”

You sighed, knowing he wasn’t gonna let up, so you made the brave decision to step outside… wincing as your feet made contact with the hard stone below you. Joel was there right away, scooping you up into his arms and hoisting you on one side of his hip as his other hand closed your front door. He eyed you for a moment, making sure he wasn’t hurting you before making his way over to his house.

All the fear coursing through your veins dulled as you felt joel’s touch, he was much bigger than you which at the start intimidated you, but now all you wanted to do was crawl into his embrace and let him take care of your problems.

Joel was one of your favourite people; when you moved in you two immediately hit it off, becoming very quick friends. From what you heard from Tommy, Joel wasn’t the type of person to be overly nice to everyone he meets, but you were different. He would always help you out when you had issues with the plumbing or gas, as Rick was never interested in doing any of that. He would bring over leftovers for you as he knew you struggled to eat after a particularly bad fight. Basically anytime Rick wasn’t there, Joel was. Insisting on taking care of you when things went wrong. Helping you get out of bed, and brushing your hair for you on the worst days.

Tommy was already waiting with the front door open, allowing Joel inside as he carried you through the threshold.

“She alright?” Tommy asked and Joel nodded slightly, taking you through to the kitchen and perching you up on the counter, picking up your leg and inspecting your foot for the first time.

“You gotta’ start wearing shoes, sweetheart”

You gave a slightly amused breath at his words but he wasn’t laughing in the slightest. He was angry.

Angry at me? you thought

He moved to one of the cupboards, pulling out a first aid kit and making his way back to you, pulling a stool over and sitting in front of your legs, pulling your feet into his lap and getting to work with the antiseptic.

“ouch!” you winced as the stinging made its way through your body.

“I know babygirl, m’sorry. i’ll just be a little minute more and then you’re done, m’kay?”

That was another thing that was unusual with Joel, his affection towards you. It was clear that he cared about your feelings, maybe it was just because he knew that you didn’t get much at home… or maybe… just maybe…

“All done, sweet girl” you were pulled from your thoughts as he placed the bloodied cotton pads onto the counter beside you and you winced internally at how much blood there actually was. He picked up a thin bandage and began to wrap each of your feet. making sure the cuts were covered.

“Thank you” you spoke quietly, even when he was finished he still held your feet in his lap, the warmness and softness of his jeans bringing you comfort. It made you yawn and made your limbs stretch slightly.

“You tired?” he asked. You shook your head, you knew he’d have you sleep here if you asked but you didn’t want an excuse to stay any longer, on the off chance that Rick was already on his way home.

“I better get going” Joel’s hands held onto your hips as you slid down off the counter, your feet feeling way better touching the floor than before.

“She ain’t leavin’” Tommy’s voice interrupted the both of you, you turned to face the younger brother who was standing in the door way, essentially blocking your exit.

“I-I have to”

“No frickin’ way!” Tommy protested, raising his voice a bit.

“Tommy” Joel warned.

“No, absolutely not! You think we’re gonna let you go back there after everything that sick son of a bitch has done? You’re fuckin’ crazy”

“You don’t understand” You spoke softly, a whimper caught in the back of your throat.

“No you don’t understand! You wanna fuckin’ die huh? You got some sorta death wish?” Tommy was stepping closer to you, not with the intention of intimidating you but out of pure frustration with you.

“Tommy! Back the fuck off” Joel stepped forward now too, both brothers exchanging looks that told you this had been more than a one time conversation. You couldn’t help the tears that burned your eyes, begging to be released, your lip wobbling with every breath.

Tommy was an incredible friend to you, but he was the harsher one out of the two brothers when it came down to you. Joel was better at hiding his true feelings but Tommy, wouldn’t let you hear the end of it.

“What if one day we ain’t there huh? what’s she gonna do? who’s she gonna run to? If she ain’t already dead by that point” his words were harsh and brought all your emotions to light.

“Stop it! please!” you burst into tears, chest tightening as your sobs began to wrack your body.

Joel was immediately at your side pulling you into his embrace tightly and running his hand through your hair, whispering sweet words.

“M’sorry, honey. But you ain’t leaving tonight and that’s final” Tommy spoke before disappearing into the hallway.

“He ain’t tryna be mean sweetheart” Joel whispered as you clung to him.

“I-I know” you spoke hiccuping through your words.

“He’s just worried about you, and so am I”

You pulled away from Joel’s embrace, wiping your eyes. Of course you knew it was wrong, Of course you knew you could get seriously hurt or end up dead. But if it was that straightforward you would’ve been gone a long time ago.

“Can you at least stay until i get some painkillers in ya’?” Joel asked, and it wasn’t a big ask at all… but to you it felt like a hefty question. But it wouldn’t hurt right? You could take the painkillers then head straight back home as if nothing happened.

You nodded and Joel gave a soft smile, and took your hand, leading you through the house and up the stairs.

“I keep everythin’ in my bathroom cabinet, jus’ better that way” he seemingly answered every question you had without you even having to ask.

He led you to sit on his bed as he went into the bathroom, rummaging for a few moments before returning with little white capsules in his hand, he reached into his night stand and grabbed an unopened bottle of water, twisting the cap and handing you both items.

He watched you carefully as you took the pills, swallowing them with water and taking a few more chugs of the water as you didn’t realise how thirsty you were. You handed the bottle back to him and he placed it back on his nightstand.

His room was so cozy, you had never been up here before. Shades of grey and black accented the room, lights dim and sheets soft, his bed big enough for 4 people never mind just him. You could tell this room probably wasn’t his idea as Joel wasn’t one to prioritise his own comfort. It was so cozy that your eyes began to droop, and your head began to sway.

“Lay down, babygirl” Joel instructed and even came to your side to aid you but you pushed him off.

“Nuh-uh I can’t, have to go home”

“Just lay down for 5 minutes, c’mon i don’t want you passing out” he insisted.

“M’kay, 5 minutes” He helped you lay down as you got comfortable on his plushy sheets, it was almost unusual how sleepy you were. You felt your eyes begin to shut against your will and felt your breathing begin to slow. You were falling asleep, but no matter what you did you couldn’t stop it from overcoming you. Your body drifting into a deep slumber before Joel’s eyes.

If only you’d of seen the bottle of sleeping pills sat out on his bathroom counter.

-

When you woke, it was way darker outside, an ambient light flashing through, you squinted for a minute until you realised it was police lights. You searched your surroundings realising you were wearing a t-shirt and bottoms that did not belong to you, and you were also laying on joel’s pillows, the covers atop of you. You threw the covers off and began to stand up, your sleepiness still coursing through your body. how long did i sleep?

You padded towards the window, looking out and gasping at the sight of Rick being pushed into the back of a police car, his protests actively ignored by the officers, you began to start panicking but something caught your eye, or someone.

Tommy stood on the front porch, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he watched the car drive down the street, the officer driving giving him a wave as they passed… they know each other?

“You’re awake” your body jolted as you spun round to face Joel, who stood in the middle of the room holding a mug of what looked and smelled like tea. He motioned for you to take the mug but you ignored him, eyeing him with a look of betrayal.

“I know you didn’t want this sweet girl but i-”

“Didn’t want this? Joel do you have any fucking idea what you’ve just done? He’s gonna get out and he’s gonna come straight for me, do you understand that?” you ran your hands through your hair, pacing back and forth and contemplating all of your options.

“Hey, hey, hey” Joel sat the mug down and walked over grabbing a hold of your shoulders and pulling you to him. “He ain’t gonna hurt you no more, understand”

You looked into his eyes and saw nothing but pure sureness in his eyes.

“He comes anywhere near ya i’ll kill m’ myself”… again, the sureness… but something else lurked in his irises, something dark.

“You’re not killing anyone Joel” you pulled out of his grip and began to walk away, searching for your lost clothes, rummaging through his wardrobe and under his bed.

“Where’s all my stuff?”

Joel sighed and walked over to you again.

“It’s in the laundry, why are you so desperate to leave? He’s not here anymore” You heard the frustration in his voice but why was he angry at you, it meant you could go home peacefully.

“Because it’s my home, Joel”

“This is your home” He said plainly, which in any other circumstance would’ve been sweet but you couldn’t shake the feeling of something being wrong.

“That’s kind Joel but I really gotta-”

“You think now that i’ve got you i’m just gonna let you go?” He chuckled.

The air shifted as you looked into Joel’s eyes that seemed to have nothing but pure lust for you, he had been drinking.

But it wasn’t until your eyes caught the little orange pill bottle sat open on the counter that it finally clicked. And he noticed when it clicked. His eyes followed yours and he sighed at his mistake, before giving a slight scoff.

“Sorry, probably shoulda’ put that away before”

“Joel?” You grew more and more frightened as the seconds grew by, this wasn’t your Joel. This Joel had something dark and malicious about him.

“Hey, it’s alright sweetheart” he came up and held your face in his hands…

“I’m gonna take care of you now”

-

a/n: please let me know if you want a part two i’d be happy to write one! any comments and reblogs are so greatly appreciated thank you so much for reading.

love, mila🎀

[yellowheartz]

Damn, hold let me help you there. (Hcs in tags)

Guys my tummy hurts

Send me your saiki k hcs so I can recover