#i just. wish it was ready for you all now when the stove is hot.

[its-all-papaya]

heyyyy there has been a ~buzz~ on the dash with all the landoscar + children content this week and it feels like a good time to remind the tag that I’ve got a ~70k driver!oscar / single dad!lando fic in the works, hopefully dropping towards the end of this month. wanted to give you all a little snippet AND start a tag list for when i post the first chapter so :,) comment if you’d like to be tagged when this debuts ! and enjoy, hopefully, a peek at dad lando:

“Uncle Max!” she props one hand on Lando’s knee while she points with the other at the McLaren. It’s not, obviously, but she can’t tell helmets apart and he never really has the heart to point out when she’s right or wrong about whose car is whose. He finds he sort of wants to, though, as he watches Oscar edge closer, start nibbling at the margin. It’s an odd feeling. It doesn’t matter, she doesn’t know the difference and won’t until someone’s standing on the podium, but it spins in Lando’s belly all the same. But then, he’s never really given a second thought to Max’s teammate, never really cared where they finished. Not when it was Danny, and not about Oscar until now.

It isn’t on the straight that Oscar makes the move. It’s on the exit. A beautiful, smooth glide around the racing line until he’s clear through the corner. Lando watches his name marker swap places in the standings with Sainz’ and the feeling in his stomach blooms into something near to what he probably would feel if it were Max. Different, though. Pride, probably, but also a twisty category of excitement, a little embarrassing, a little thrill. Like a crush, Lando’s stupid brain supplies, even though he most definitely did not ask.

“He did it!” Emma’s clapping, looking up at Lando to affirm her excitement.

“He did!” Lando bumps knuckles with her when she offers. Oscar did it, he thinks

McLaren undercuts. Ferrari pushes Leclerc too far on mediums. With less than three laps to go, Lando watches Oscar slip around on the outside, and a handful of minutes later, he watches both papaya cars follow Verstappen to the checkered flag – 2-3, a double podium.

Emma cheers over the commentary on the cool-down, all the way into parc fermé, when the podium sitters start climbing out of their cars. Lando’s heart is beating hard again for reasons he does not care to examine, and he’s more than a little distracted from whatever Emma’s saying about the finish.

“Daddy,” she plants both hands on his thigh and rocks her weight back and forth. Her voice is bordering on whiny, so Lando snaps his focus back where it belongs and blinks at her.

“What, baby?”

“He’s three?” little fingers up again, always.

“Yeah,” Lando nods, eyes back on the screen. Oscar’s working on his helmet, tugging the strap, and Lando remembers with stunning clarity the way those fingers had burned in his brain for no logical reason a week ago. Oscar’s just through pulling his balaclava off when Max appears from the side of the screen to clap his hand in congratulations, and Lando realizes- “Wait, no,” he covers Emma’s hands with one of his own, “Uncle Max is two, Em, he got ahead of the Ferrari. Sorry.”

“Oh,” she sucks her lip into her mouth for a second ahead of a grin, “Oh! Two is better!”

“Yep,” Lando looks down at her again, forcing his brain to cooperate for both of their sakes, “Two is really good. He’s gonna be really happy."

[luvyeni]

❛MY DOG ROOMMATE❜ ( l.jeno )

p. hybrid!jeno x fem!reader w. 1.9k

warnings? unprotected sex, breeding kink, squirting, big cock jeno

— 𖦹 ( jeno can’t spend another heat with his mate ) !

freaktober masterlist

jeno first figured out you were his mate the day you moved in – it wasn’t common for hybrids and humans to roommate , but you both were strapped for cash and needed help paying bills. the day you came through the doors , boxes in his hand he felt it , his need for you.

not wanting to scare you off , he decided to push it aside , but as time went on and you got closer , it was so hard for the hybrid to deny it , especially with his heats becoming stronger , you knew about his heats , but he’d often just lock himself in his room for a week , you weren’t aware that he’d be in there , wrapped up in pool of clothes he’d stolen from you , fucking his fist , wishing it was you , cumming over all your clothes with a whimper , his cock still hard and twitching against his stomach.

even though you didn’t know about the mate thing , you didn’t really help either – your constant touching , the scratches behind his ear randomly which sent him into overdrive , you were also extremely caring , buying him things , making his food , packing him lunch for work , make sure he had his protein shakes after working out – you were practically his acting as his mate already.

“good morning jeno.” he was met with your beautiful smile. “good morning.” he sat down , immediately being bombarded with your sent , it was much stronger – way stronger than ever before. “did you go to the gym today?” he questioned , your eyes widened , it always shocked you when he would guess. “i just got back , i heard you moving around in your room , so i got your breakfast and protein shake ready before my shower , i know you normally eat all this after the gym , but i’ll be out with a friend when you get back so i wanted to make sure you’d have it.” you said.

there it is again , the pulling at his heart – it was even more painful than before , he hissed grabbing his chest. “you okay jen?” you questioned. “just some chest pains , i’m okay.” you ignored his answer , walking over to him , your scent even stronger. “fuck.” he whispered , something was definitely wrong , this was a different type of pain. “jeno , hey.” you snapped him out of his thoughts. “huh?”

you put your hand up to his head , his body immediately calming down due to your touch. “you’re a bit warm , maybe you shouldn’t go to the gym , i’ll call my friends and tell them i can’t make it.” he stopped you , grabbing your hand. “no , it’s fine.” he said. “told you just a bit of chest pain , i’m fine now , go have fun with your friend.” you nodded. “well take it easy at the gym , don’t over do it.” you warned. “okay mom.” you chuckled. “good boy , i’ll go shower now.” you reached up , scratching behind his ears , before walking back to your room , he bit his fist to cover up the painful moan that left his lips

he couldn’t focus on his workout , the pain in his chest getting worse and worse – to the point where he’d almost dropped a weight on his foot. he ended up coming back to a empty house , you must’ve left out already , the food sitting covered on the stove , his protein shake sitting in the fridge with a cute little note that made him smile.

he decided to shower , not having anything else planned , he made his way to his bathroom , opening the door , your soap still lingering in the air – it wasn’t uncommon for you to use his shower , your hot water never working. the pain coming back in his chest , he groaned , leaning over the sink. “fuck.” he picked up his phone , dialing jaemin , his friend who was another hybrids number. “yo wassup jeno.” the boy shouted into the phone , jeno hissed in pain , his scenes heightening , the boys voice ringing through his head. “bro , you okay?”

“no , i’m in so much fucking pain right now.” he growled. “what kind of pain?” jaemin asked. “a pain in my -fuck- in my chest.” he said. “it hurts so fucking bad , it feels like i’m dying.” he slammed his hands on the sink. “bro , you’re going into a early rut.” jaemin said. “what , that can’t happen.” he said , jeno was growing frustrated. “it can when you have a mate , but it’s not a good thing.”

“why?” he said , jaemin explained to him , “because combined with the chest pains , that means you mating bond is being rejected , if you don’t do something , you’re slowly gonna descend into madness , and that won’t be safe for you or your roommate.” he hung up on jaemin , making his way back to his bed , throwing his body on to the bed , his thumb hovering over your number.

you could barely focus on the guy in front of you , your mind was stuck on jeno , he did not look so well before you left , you should’ve made him some soup before you left. “everyone okay?” soobin , the sweet boy in front of you asked. “yeah i’m-.” you were cut off my your phone ringing. “just a second , i’m sorry.” you read the number , it was jeno , he never called when you were out. “you have to answer that?”

you smiled apologetic , before answering the call. “jen?” it was silent. “are you okay , what’s wrong?” you heard a groan , a painful one at that. “i-i c-can’t.” you stood up worried. “hey , i’m coming home now.” you turned to soobin. “something is wrong , i have to go.” he nodded , understandingly, you grabbed your things , giving the boy a quick hug and another apology before almost running out the restaurant. “i’m coming now , just holding on.”

the ride home was torturous , worry filling your body as you asked the taxi driver to speed up – getting on the elevator , making your way to your floor. you opened the door , making your way to jeno’s room. “jeno.” you knocked on his door , his groans made you push the door open , where he laid against his headboard shirtless. “oh my god.” you ran over to his bed , sitting down.

he was sickly pain , skin all sweaty like he had just been working out. “my god jeno.” your hand came up to feel his forehead. “you’re burning up.” you gasped , he wrapped his hand around your wrist , pulling you close to his body , sniffing. “j-jeno.” you stuttered. “why do you smell like that?” his voice deep. “why do you smell like a guy?” you furrowed your eye brows. “jeno that’s not import- why do you smell like a fucking guy (y/n)?”

“i told you i was going out with a friend.” you said , holding yourself back hand on his chest. “that’s why it’s rejecting , you were out with another guy.” you were confused. “rejecting? jeno what are you talking about , you aren’t well.” you said. “because of you , i’m not well because of you , i’m at home in pain while my mate it out with another guy.” he scoffed.

mate? you’d done research on hybrids and mates and stuff when jeno moved in , just to be prepared , but you only thought hybrids mate with other hybrids. “jeno , how was i supposed to know , you didn’t tell me anything.” your hand came up to scratch behind his ear , he grabbed your wrist , pulling you down , flipping your body over , hovering over you. “mine.”

he pressed his lips against yours , grinding his hard cock against yours. “his scent is all over you.” he groaned against your neck. “he touched what was mine.” his sharp teeth scrapping against your neck. “je-jeno.” you moaned. “gonna mark your pretty skin , let everyone know you’re fucking mine.” you yelped as he sunk his teeth into you. “fu-fuck!”

he sat back on his knees , yanking the front of your dress down , your tits spilling out , jeno was salivating , taking one of your boobs into his mouth sucking while squeezing the other one , rocking his cock against your heat. “sh-shit jeno.” you moaned. “jeno i’m gonna cum.” he bucked his hips against you , the fabric of his gym shorts rubbing against his cock , his tail wagging side to side in excitement as dry humped you. “jeno!”

you came , your panties sticking to you. “fuck i’m gonna cum , gonna fucking cum in my shorts , ngh fuck!” he groaned , his cock twitching as he came , messing up his underwear. this didn’t nothing his cock was still hard , he needed more. “need to fuck you , stuff your cunt full of my cock.”

you moaned at his lewd words , whining. “pl-please fuck me.” he practically ripped your panties off , pulling his cock out from his shorts , he was above average , and really thick – his tip red , cum still dripping from his hole. “y-you’re so big.” your eyes widened. “might not fit.” he spread your cunt , rubbing his cock against your clenching hole. “fuck , then i’ll make it fit.”he pushed it thick tip in. “sh-shit.” he pushed his cock in. “tiny fucking pussy , my cock can barely fit.”

you screamed in pain and pleasure as he slowly bullied his cock into you. “w-wait jeno.” you moaned , your legs shaking as you came for a second time. “f-fuck.” he finally pushed himself fully inside you. “you came just from taking my cock.” he groaned , thrusting.

“shit , such a warm fucking cunt.” he grunted. “had to spend all these ruts alone.” held your waist , fucking into you. “fucking my fist to your scent , while you were only feet away , could’ve filled this pussy with my pups a long time ago.” you couldn’t speak , your brain completely shut off , only thing on your mind was jeno. “pl-please.” you moaned.

“is that what you want?” he wrapped his hands around your throat. “fuck you full of my pups , fill your tiny pussy until your stomach is bulging from my cum.” he pressed down on your stomach , you screamed. “that’s my cock , gonna fill your womb with my cum , make you take my knot.” he grunted , his thrust becoming sloppy. “je-jeno i’m gonna cum again!”

he slapped your cunt , you yelped. “go ahead cum.” your back arched off the bed , cumming – coating his abdomen with your juices. “that’s it , squirt for me , gonna fuck you full of my kids.” he stilled himself inside you. “shit.” he groaned , his cock swelling as he empty his cum inside of you – you were shaking as his cum leaked out around his cock. “sh-shit , too much!” he kissed your lips. “just a bit more , just hold on.” he came a lot, his cock finally softening , but not fully. “sh-shit i’m still hard.”

“c-can’t take anymore.” you whimpered. “it’s okay baby.” he rubbed your waist. “i’ll let you rest now.” he slowly pulling out of your spent cunt.

“we still have all week for me to fuck you

©LUVYENI

[marijmin]

Jaehyun dad!au drabble

Warnings: reader jae and their daughter being cute. SMUT. MINORS DNI

A/N: this is my first time writing cause I decided to participate on the secret santa event made by the amazing @leejenowrld and I got to write for @jaem4eva , hope you like it and I'm sorry? Also english is not my first language so there might have grammatical errors

The kitchen is chaotic. There’s flour everywhere, eggshells on the floor, chocolate powder all over the counter and your cat is trying to drink milk straight from the bottle. 

But you and your daughter are having so much fun. 

“Mommy, when will the cookies be ready?”. Your 4 years old daughter asks you while sitting on the floor in front of the stove. 

“Blink and you'll miss it”, you crouch down and bump her little nose. “Now let's help mommy clean the kitchen”. 

She promptly got up to help you, and that was the second part of the fun. You absolutely love to spend time with your baby girl, relishing on how smart and beautiful she is. Astonished about how she's a perfect mix of her parents. 

“Mommy! Mommy! Cookies are ready!”. Your daughter caughts your attention and runs towards the stove. 

“Be careful, it's too hot”, you warn and she stops, waiting for you to open the oven. You grab the gloves and carefully take the tray out, pulling in the counter away from your daughter's hands so she won't get burned.  

“Hope daddy likes the cookies”, she said dreamy. 

“He will love it darling”. 

It's December 23rd and with your husband Jaehyun at work, your daughter had the idea of baking cookies and making a surprise for her father. 

You just finished decorating the cookies when you hear the door opening. Your daughter runs straight to it, calling for her dad. Jaehyun automatically picks her up and hugs her, with a bright, albeit tired smile on his face. 

“Daddy, we made a surprise for you! Close your eyes!”, she puts her small hands in front of his eyes. 

Jaehyun exaggeratedly stumbles with her in his arms making her throw her head back laughing. You cherish this view, smiling fondly. They reach you, your daughter runs back to the counter while he greets you with a quick kiss. 

“Ta daaaa”, the little girl shows the cookies happily. 

“It's so beautiful and it looks delicious.” he praised her. “You did all of it?” 

“Yesss me and mommy”, she looks so proud and it makes you even more proud of her. 

“Good job”, he messes her hair, going to grab one, taking a bite. “Hmm the cookie is so good, that's my girl”, his big hand met her small one in a high five. 

The three of you eat the cookies in the kitchen. After, Jaehyun went to take a shower while you and your daughter waits comfortably on the couch, with 3 cups of hot chocolate on the living room table. When he comes back, you play games sitting on the floor for hours. 

Your daughter is so electric, talking nonstop about how much fun Christmas night will be since she's going to spend it with her grandparents. Your grandmother is sick and she wanted the whole family with her in her house for the Christmas party. So you, your daughter, Jaehyun and his close family will also grant your grandma’s wish. And your little girl is more than happy with that. 

When she yawned, you noticed it was her sleep time. You and your husband asked her to help pull away her toys. Despite whining and complaining she wasn't sleepy, her fluttering eyes told otherwise. 

Jaehyun puts her to sleep while you finish tidying up the living room. You're so distracted you got startled when you felt arms wrapping around your waist and a deep low voice in your ear. 

“Now it's just you and me baby”. 

You turn around in his arms, your hands going to the hair on his nape. “And what do you suggest we do?” You ask provocatively. 

“We're going upstairs to our bedroom and I'll give you an early gift that only I can”, he had that smirk when he knows he's getting what he wants. And he's about to. 

At your shared bedroom, Jaehyun grabs your waist pulling his lips on yours in a passionate kiss. His hands going under your shirt and then grabbing the hem to remove it. You both slowly undress each other, the clothes scattered randomly around the room. 

Jaehyun lays you on the bed, his body comfortably on top of yours as the kiss turns hungrier. His hands explore your body even though he has done it so many times. He runs his fingers through your inner thighs agonizingly slowly making you squirm and whimper. 

“Patience sweetheart”, he tuts, taking his time to reach your heat and when he does you let out the longest moan. 

He parts your lips and runs his finger up and down before inserting his index finger inside you, pumping slowly before adding his middle finger in. 

The room is dark, only the moon illuminates the place giving an intimate and sensual atmosphere. 

“You're so wet baby, all for me”, he whispers in your ear and you moan out loud. When he starts to pick up the pace, he stops and withdraws his finger. You whine, hating how empty you feel. 

“Patience”, he repeats, but this time strictly, emphasizing the syllables. Jaehyun kiss you hard, tongue fighting with yours, lips red after he pulls away to spread kisses on your neck, nibbling and sucking the area making you almost rip his hair off. 

He went down to your nipples, sucking one bud while squeezing the other, then inverting. His head reaches where you wanted him the most. He kisses your cunt before diving his tongue on your folds. You put your legs over his shoulder and arch your back. You feel your high approaching with how good he was sucking your clit, and he noticed it, he knows your body by heart. Moans and his name were the only things coming out of your mouth as you came. 

Jaehyun soothes you, giving small kisses all over your face as you come down from your high, his chin still wet. 

“You did so good honey”, he whispers softly in your neck, a contrast from his previous actions. 

“Fuck me please”, you managed to whisper. 

He groaned, grabbing the base of his cock lining up in your entrance. You moan as he bottoms out. Your walls so tight around him, you've been together for so many years but you still struggle to take him. 

Jaehyun thrusts slow but hard, so deep you feel him in your guts. His hands holding your hips so tight it will leave marks the next morning. 

“You're doing so good baby, you're perfect”, he praises you. You push him down and kiss him messy and hurriedly. 

“Oh god you're so big” you whine after he thrusted too hard, hitting the right spot. 

He holds both your hands on the mattress as he picks up the pace. You feel that familiar sensation in the pit of your stomach and screams his name so loud he has to kiss you to swallow your moans. He rubs your clit and in a matter of seconds you're coming again. Jaehyun comes right after with a deep groan. 

“I love you”, he says out of breath.

“I love you too”. 

You both stay cuddled until he carefully pulls out of you and gets up to grab a towel to clean you up. 

Now you're lying on his chest, his arms around you and your legs intertwined. 

“Do we really have to go to your grandma’s house tomorrow? I want to do this again and stay like this”, he complained. 

“It's just for Christmas night, cmon”, you replied lighthearted. Your family loves him and he adores them, even both of your families get along. 

“I know I know, I like to hang out with your family but I’d rather stay with you”, you giggle and kiss his pouting lips. 

“We have the rest of our lives for that”, you kiss him deeply, your love for him overflowing. 

You feel like the happiest woman in the world. You have the sweetest daughter, your reason to live, the little person you love the most. You have an incredible husband who moves worlds for you. And you wouldn't have it any other way. 

[luveline]

kbd steve and r dealing with two of the girls holding a grudge/fighting and helping them make up 🥹🥹🥹

kbd —mom!reader and dad!steve attempt to get their girls to forgive each other

“I thought they’d just forget,” you whisper. 

Steve looks over your shoulder, hand on your waist, the smell of hot butter bubbling on the stove like an itch in his nose. “Right? Like, they’d sleep and forget. Especially ‘cos they like sharing the bed.” 

Avery and Beth sit as far away from one another as is humanly possible. Beth sits with Dove toward the head of the table, frowning as her little sister climbs onto her legs and tries to comb her hair, while Avery sits by the open kitchen door. She’s pretending to poke at the snail that lives under the stoop, but she’s really on the edge of tears. 

They’re fighting because Avery took one of Beth’s fruit slices yesterday at lunch (warm pastries that all the kids can’t get enough of). When Steve asked her about it, she lied and said Beth actually ate one of her fruit slices, and Beth had been so betrayed she actually got mad. Beth never gets mad. 

Avery couldn’t take the guilt, confessing in tears the night before that she’d lied, and so you and Avery knocked Beth’s door together to apologise. Only Beth didn’t forgive her. 

It’s weird to see them not getting along. Avery and Beth are so sweet to each other usually. It’s odd that they aren’t sharing their breakfast, that they aren’t trying to feed the baby her mushy eggs. You and Steve are used to a more lovey-dovey feeling in the mornings. 

You dip down to sit with Avery when she does eventually start crying. “What’s the matter?” you whisper. 

Steve knows you’ve got the reins on that one, taking a seat by the other disgruntled party. 

“Is she crying?” Beth asks him softly. 

“Yeah, baby.” 

“‘Cos of me?” 

“It’s not like that.” He pulls Dove off of Beth’s lap before the toddler can trample her. Dove frowns at him but decides to allow it, resting in a lump against his chest. He pats her back. “She feels bad that she upset you, and she lied, and she wishes you were feeling better.” 

It must be strange to be young and be terrified that nobody will believe you, even over something as small as a fruit slice. Steve can’t imagine what he’d feel like now having to justify things to his parents. Or maybe it was that Avery’s never done something like that, at least not that Beth could remember. 

“She lied,” Beth stresses. 

“I know. But she did say sorry, honey, and she promised you two of her fruit slices today to make up for it. Maybe we can be friends again?” Steve says. 

If Beth wants to be mad a little while longer, that’s okay, but from the looks of her where she’s looking back and forth between Steve and the open kitchen door, she’s ready to forgive, or make her sister feel better at the very least. 

“It’s nice to forgive someone,” Steve says. “It’s kind. Avery didn’t wanna get in trouble, but she got you in trouble instead, so it’s cool if you’re still grumpy.” 

“I’m not grumpy.” 

Steve gives her an encouraging smile. “I know. It’s up to you, baby. Between you and me though, I think Avery’s super duper sorry.” 

In your lap, Avery sniffles. Dove climbs down off of Steve as Beth slips from her chair, then looks back for Steve. “Will you tell her I’m not mad?” Beth asks him. 

He wriggles his fingers. She takes his hand. 

It’s an unusually cold morning for the season, Steve can see your arms have wrinkled with goosebumps where they’re wrapped tight behind Avery’s back. You’d already given her a scolding for lying last night, and you and Steve are one and done with parenting; you don’t comfort her reluctantly, you just comfort. “It’s okay,” you say under your bread, swaying her from one side to the other. 

“Hey,” Steve says, crouching down to catch your attention. 

“Hello.” You see Beth, and you smile with relief. “Hi.” 

“Beth has something she wants me to tell you, Ave,” he says, nudging her arm gently with his knuckles to catch her attention. She peers up tearily from your arm. “She said she’s not mad anymore, okay? She wants to be friends again.” 

Avery looks at Beth cautiously. “Really?” she asks. It’s hard not to hear how hopeful she sounds. Steve feels extremely sympathetic, and he can’t help thinking she’s cute. She’s such a sweetheart, just like Beth, and Dove, and baby Wren he’s sure will end up the same. Like you. He can’t count how many times you and him have argued over the years, but every time it ends with you being more sorry than you need to be, and usually some of Steve’s guilty tears. 

“Yes,” Beth says, “so please don’t cry anymore.” 

Avery pouts. “You wanna give your sister a hug?” you prompt. 

Avery jumps up and throws herself at Bethie, almost knocking her younger sister down. Steve puts his hand behind them to stop a calamity. “I’m sorry, Bethie,” Avery squeaks, her voice high with upset and scratchy as she squeezes Beth tightly. 

“It’s okay! I’m not mad!” 

“I know!” Avery sniffles. “I’m still sorry. I told dad you ate my slice but you didn’t, I’m sorry.” 

“She’s forgiven you, baby,” you say, patting Avery’s shoulder. “It’s all water under the bridge. Yeah?” 

Beth holds Avery by the arm as they pull away. “Yeah. Water un’ the bridge.” 

“Thank you,” Avery says. “I don’t like when you’re mad.”

You and Steve make similar expressions of love and empathy over their small heads.  

[msbigredmachine]

Santa Daddy - A Roman Reigns One-Shot

All the Tribal Chief wants for Christmas is you.

PAIRING: Roman Reigns x OC

Word Count: 3.7k words

A/N: Sorry I brought this in so late, I got sick. Better late than never though! Enjoy!

-----------------------

It was Christmas morning. Your face was a picture of utmost focus as you wiped away the hair stuck to your forehead. It was a mini madness in your open layout kitchen, but at least it was your controlled chaos. In a few hours' time, a select mix of friends, co-workers and family members would converge at your place for a Christmas sleepover for the ages, to mark your first holidays as Roman Reigns' fiancée.

What a crazy eighteen months it has been for you. If anyone told you that within that timeframe, you would escape from your abusive boyfriend, move states, find a new job and a new place to live, you would have laughed in their face.

And Lord knows how you'd have reacted if they added that you'd be dating a professional wrestler in that same timeframe. And not just any wrestler, but the marquee name, the number one guy in WWE. But here you were. In the house you lived in together. Diamond ring on your finger. Prepping dinner and being quite giddy about it too. It had been a long time since you were giddy about anything, but that changed after you said yes to a coffee date with Roman a lifetime ago, it felt like now.

The honey-glazed chicken, roasted potatoes and gravy were ready, as were the salads and greens. Your centerpiece was undoubtedly the smoky Nigerian jollof rice you couldn't wait for everyone to taste. The chocolate was fragrant as it melted in the pot and the sweet crème caramel was setting nicely. You really wanted everything to go smoothly today. Dinner first, after which everyone would gather in the den for gift swaps, karaoke, play some raunchy adult games, then go to bed whenever they liked before leaving in the morning for their drives home. It was the perfect itinerary and you planned to make sure it was.

You were whisking the chocolate sauce on the stove when the shuffling of a familiar pair of size fifteens invaded your ears. Your heart pounded a little harder anfd your brown eyes lit up as he walked into the kitchen, drinking him in with your heart-shaped mouth curving into a smile. It was incredible how he gave off the exact same aura and energy as his grand entrances to the ring with just entering a small room. It was intimidating in the sexiest way.

"I see someone found one of their gifts." Your voice was soft and sweet - a tone you used only for him - with the gentle tinge of a tease. Your man looked so good in his red Christmas-themed pajama set that matched yours, which he complemented with a Santa hat covering the top of his head.

Roman came to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around you as he kissed your neck. "You look amazing in yours," he told you. Taking a deep breath, he welcomed your fragrance deep into his lungs. Your scent reminded him of hot chocolate on a cold winter's day and the roaring fireplace several feet away in the living room. It reminded him of home. You were home.

"Merry Christmas, my beautiful wife-to-be. I love you." His voice was a low, tender rumble in your ear, and you shivered slightly as his hands massaged your waist, his warm breath caressing the sensitive nape of your neck.

"I love you too, Daddy. Merry Christmas," you greeted back, absorbing the aura, the love and affection radiating from him like a bright light. Gosh, how did you get so lucky, winding up with this incredibly handsome, sweet, gentle giant of a man as a life partner?

"It smells so good in here, babe," Roman complimented, dipping his finger in the gravy boat for a taste. "I wish you woke me up to help out," he added sheepishly.

You shook your head immediately. "Don't worry about it. You needed your rest from all the traveling you've been doing."

"What time do the festivities start again?"

You turned off the stove to temp the chocolate down and turned to him. "Not till like, three."

"Hmm, and it's only nine-thirty now. That's a whole lotta time to ourselves," he pointed out, his eyebrows wiggling suggestively as he tugged at the waistband of your pajama pants. "I know I got a lot of presents, but Daddy wants to open this one first. Can I?" he asked with a syrupy sweet voice that promised something much more carnal.

"That depends on if you were naughty or nice this year," you replied.

The dramatic pout that came with his puppy dog eyes was so cute. "I promise I've been a good boy."

You arched a manicured brow at him. "You sure? Not even the tiniest bit bad?"

Roman puffed out his chest and grinned proudly. "I'm positive. I made my woman very happy this year. That counts as good, right?"

The glittering rock on your finger answered that question. "Definitely," you agreed.

"Exactly. By the way, look up."

You followed his pointed finger. A sprig of mistletoe dangled from the cabinet right above you. You met your fiancé's stormy stare, and your pussy purred from the mischief and lust you saw in them. You licked your lips with anticipation, knowing full well he was going to have his way with you, like he always did. Like you always wanted him to.

"C'mere." He guided your face to his own with his hand on the back of your neck. Your hands clutched his broad shoulders as your lips melded together in a soft, passionate dance. You stood in the kitchen for what felt like hours, worshiping each other's mouths, the smacking of your lips and hushed sighs mingling with the soft Christmas ballad playing through Alexa.

As you kissed, Roman couldn't help but get turned on. He let his hands slip down into the back of your pants and over your backside, molding your bare ass cheeks in his palms while you pressed yourself against him. You continued the increasingly intense makeout session, neither of you seeming to be in any hurry to stop.

"Santa Daddy thinks you've been a good girl this year," he murmured against your lips, "so good that you deserve a special present."

"Mmm, I love presents, Santa Daddy," you replied, allowing him to pick you up and place you on the countertop. He stepped into the space between your thighs and wrapped your legs around his waist, while your arms curled around his shoulders as you dove into the kiss. He caressed your mouth with his luscious tongue in a way that made your knees weak. Your hands and his moved in unison, pulling off each other's clothes until you were both completely nude. The second your top was off, his fingers teased your nipples, which instantly pebbled at his touch. His broad chest was hard and warm against your palms, and you scratched your nails along his ribs just to hear him hiss in a breath right before his mouth latched onto your throat. You whimpered and gripped his hair. God, his mouth and tongue felt so good on your skin. He nibbled and sucked on you while massaging your right breast, and you felt the pit of stomach heat up with the rabid need for your pussy to be filled. The moisture pooling between your thighs could probably fill a lake.

With your eyes closed as you savored the sensations, you never quite saw him take the pot of chocolate, dip the whisk in it and wave it over your nipples. The chocolate that dripped onto your skin seared with heat, but his tongue was there to quickly lick it away before the pain registered as anything more than a turn-on.

"Mmm, that's tasty," he commented.

You watched him and his lethal mouth like a hawk. "You like that, Daddy?" you inquired, resting back on your elbows.

"Oh, I do." He drizzled more chocolate over your breasts. Your mind swam as he took his time sucking each soft flesh, activating your erogenous pressure point. He then dipped his finger in the warm chocolate then made a long trail down your lower belly. He licked that away, then used two fingers to paint your entire pussy with the hot chocolate, his face a mask of concentration as he worked on his masterpiece. Your body jerked and you sucked in a breath at the fire that raged between your legs. Then his tongue was down there, splitting your soft folds apart to delve into your sweetened essence.

Yanking the Santa hat off his head, your fingers threaded through his messy ponytail, pulling his face flush against you, writhing against him and begging for more. "Unnnh, babe, that feels so good," you groaned, your brain growing fuzzy as he French-kissed your pussy, pleasure licking at you with the same devastating impact as his tongue. "Fuck, baby, I love you!"

"I know," Roman moaned back, pushing your thighs further apart. "Spread your legs, baby...wider," he instructed you, his burly arms winding around your thighs and yanking you closer to him. "Mmm, perfect. Imma eat you off this counter, girl."

And he was. With gusto. Desperate for release, you tried to squirm but he had you pinned down to the kitchen island, keeping you still. You were panting hard as the tension coiled tighter in your belly. You were almost there, just a step away from that cliff, when he nuzzled his face against your wet pussy and flicked your hard little clit with his thumb. The pressure sent you over the edge and you moaned through the orgasm, your back arching against the cool surface of the counter. Your string of moans was an aphrodisiac to Roman, and he kept up his tender licking and sucking until your legs fell from his shoulders and you gave a shuddering sigh.

"Jesus," you whispered.

Roman resembled a kid in a candy store with his beard stained with cum and chocolate, eyes bright and lust-filled. He looked up, licked his lips with a smug smile and said, "Nothing tastes as good as you, baby," he praised, and your ego swelled. He always knew the right things to say to make you feel good. Twining your fingers in his, he pulled you upright and kissed your lips, sharing your tangy sweetness with you.

"Your turn," you announced, and slid carefully off the counter, pushing him to sit on one of the stools. You moved to take the pot of chocolate, but the three mason jars filled with homemade caramel sauce caught your eye. A devious little idea popped up in your head. Grabbing one, you unscrewed the cover, licking the sauce around the rim before grabbing Roman's dick with one hand, bringing the jar up to his plum-shaped tip.

"Fuck, girl," Roman shivered, his eyes wide when you dunked his dick right inside the jar. Your eyes shone excitedly as you pulled him back out, the thick, succulent syrup dripping down his pipe and around the rim of your hand.

"Mmm, look at all this sweetness on your dick, Daddy," you moaned, bending at the waist to capture his cock between your lips, your husky sigh vibrating against his sensitive skin. Roman moaned softly as you angled your bobbing head, sliding his dick further down your throat with the same rhythm as your hand stroking him, the sensations leaving him boneless.

"Shiiiit, just like that, baby, eat up my dick like a good girl, how's it taste, huh?" he managed to ask.

"Good," you hummed, working your tongue from the tip of his dick down to the veiny underside of his shaft, causing his breathing to grow labored as his cock throbbed in your hand.

"Oh my god, your tongue, dem juicy lips," Roman clutched your hair, watching you intensely. "Keep suckin' my dick, baby, show me what that mouth do."

Wordlessly, you drew his cock deeper into your mouth with a deep breath and started sucking him with only your jaw doing all of the work. His dick was more than sizable, but was no match for your mouth. Daddy had trained you well to handle all of that fat dick with your mouth and pussy. You paused to scoop more caramel sauce with his dick like a spoon, licking off every drop off his shaft with lavish swipes of your tongue.

"Put some on my balls," Roman instructed.

He held his dick up and out of the way while you rubbed a mix of chocolate and caramel all over his balls. As you sucked on them, Roman slowly massaged his dick, occasionally slapping your face with it. The visual of your arched back mesmerized him, the deliberate twerking of your plump ass cheeks as you pleasured him short-circuited his brain. Even hotter was the sight of his balls hidden in your mouth and the sauce mixture smeared on your chin. The contrast of the dark substance on your brown skin was so fucking sexy.

"That's it, baby, that's it...shit!" The Tribal Chief's deep voice was a strangled gasp, his breaths becoming even shallower as you popped his balls out to recapture his dick. His eyes rolled in the back of his head, lost in toe-curling pleasure as you lodged him in the back of your throat, your warm mouth swallowing around the base of his shaft like a suction. It was his turn to fidget in place, his fingers digging into your scalp as ecstasy loomed ever closer. "Baby I'm gon' come," he whined.

You moaned at his warning, the vibrations shuddering around his length. Your eyes locked with his as he started to fall apart. With a loud groan, he held your head still and gasped helplessly with each spurt of his cum gushing down your throat, his hips bucking from the force of his release. His eyes squeezed shut as he felt you swallow, drinking your fill, your tongue lapping up whatever you spilled. You pulled him out and gulped air back into your lungs, then glanced back up at him with those mischievous pretty eyes, pursing your pouty lips against his blunt head and making his cock twitch in your grasp.

"How the fuck am I still hard?" he half-laughed, half-choked, earning a proud grin from you.

"I got that magic mouth, baby," you declared haughtily, twisting your hand around him in gentle soothing strokes, "And you got this magic dick. You gonna put it on me, Santa Daddy? I know you want to."

"Damn right." He got off the chair and spun you around, bending you over the kitchen table. The tabletop remained cold against your bare, chocolate-streaked skin, and you shivered in response. It was only seconds before he guided your hands to grip the edges of the table in front of you. You moaned softly as he nudged your legs wider apart, hiking your ass slightly higher to press himself up against you.

"Ay, Alexa, turn that shit off, I wanna hear my girl scream for me," he growled at the air, and you burst out laughing when the kitchen fell into an abrupt silence.

His hard dick throbbed between your ass cheeks. He ran the thick head up and down the slit of your pussy lips. When he pushed the first few inches in, you whined pitifully. Your velvety womanhood pulled him in, eking a groan from the Tribal Chief as his big hands roamed your back and ass. His thrusts were slow at first, savoring the feel of your tight, wet pussy tugging at him with each languid stroke. You responded by bucking up against him, luring him even deeper into your body. You moaned together in mutual pleasure.

"God, so tight, so wet...bomb ass pussy," he grunted, smacking your ass and squeezing on the soft juicy flesh, knowing it would make you that much wetter as he stretched you open with that good dick. Your keening moans were nothing but fuel for him; he knew you loved it when he fucked you deep and hard and a little rough, ticking all your little sexual boxes that no one but him knew about. His rhythm was steady yet heavy, keeping you on edge with deep strokes right up on your g-spot. Leaning over you, he swept your hair out of your face to kiss your cheek, a hushed moan slipping from his throat when you squirmed against him, pressing your ass closer to his hips every time he pushed into you.

With the table pressing into your belly and his body trapping you against it, you felt his dick swell inside you, girthier and harder with every thrust. Your body was so sensitized from your previous orgasm that you felt another one build in record time. You wanted your second nut so bad, and you rolled your ass against him, hoping to put enough pressure on your clit to bring it on.

"Unnh yeah, throw that sexy ass back at me," Roman grunted with another hard smack to your ass which jiggled from the impact of his big hand. Said hand then made its way into your hair, the other gripping your waist as he grinded against you and you against him. He loved it; loved you, loved the feel of your bodies moving together, your juices dripping all over his dick, loved the fact that you couldn't seem to control the noises you were making as the kitchen echoed with the erotic sound of them.

"Oh, baby, I'm fuckin' close," you whimpered through your moans.

"How close?" he asked, his lips brushing soft kisses between your shoulder blades and trailing them down your back. His warm breath and his soft beard tickled your skin, and too aroused to answer, you merely whimpered again and bounced your ass more impatiently on his dick. The tension was there in your belly, swirling around so close to explosion, and you needed it like you needed air.

Roman's grip on your hair strengthened, anchoring himself to you. "Don't move. Lemme get that pussy." He was like a Ferrari engine, accelerating with harder pummeling thrusts that filled you to the brim. He was now balanced on just the balls of his feet in an effort to drive deeper into you, pounding you out until you were leaking down your thighs and all over his dick and balls. It felt so good. Too good.

"Yes, Daddy, beat that shit up...unnhhh, my god, I'm coming," you moaned long and loud as you unraveled like flimsy wrapping paper. Stars sparked behind your eyelids as the orgasm tore through you, leaving you shaking uncontrollably from its intensity.

"Mmm, there you go sweetheart, soak my dick,  come all over it," he snickered proudly, his tongue tracing the shell of your ear. "Was that nut good, baby?"

"Yes, Daddy, so good," you grinded out, lightheaded, your eyes glazed over and unfocused, even more so as you felt his hand spread over the back of your neck and hold you down to the countertop, his hips winding against your ass as he stayed burying his long, girthy dick in your warm, snug depths.

"Good, cuz I'm 'bout to nut too...shit, baby girl, this pussy amazing...You gon' make me put a kid in you..."

The thought of him breeding you with his seed had your pussy clenching around his cock, the suckling sensation reducing his husky taunts into yet another helpless moan. You could tell from his breathing that he was indeed close, his frenzied thrusts becoming sloppier as white-hot pleasure surged through both of your bodies in incredible waves.

"Oh shit, Y/N," Roman grunted, squeezing your hips for dear life as something snapped inside him. Slamming his dick into you one last time, he went completely rigid with a shout as he came hard for you. The warm wet spurts of cum emptying inside you caused your body to shiver against his as you milked his dick dry. His heavy weight kept you pressed into the hard marble table, both of you so limp that it didn't seem to matter that you couldn't breathe. Somehow, you managed to stand back upright, making him do the same behind you. As he wrapped you up in a hug, he was still inside you, and you tilted your head up to gently bite his bottom lip before licking at his tongue. It made him smile, and you couldn't help but smile back as he shared a long, greedy kiss with you before finally pulling out with a groan, slapping your backside one more time as he stepped away.

"Save some of that chocolate stuff for us," he said, grinning when you shot him a questioning look. "I want you to use 'em on me again later tonight."

You picked up the two sets of pajamas off the floor. "Hmm, you won't be too tired from dinner and all that?"

"Too tired to fuck you? Never, my baby girl."

"Then I'll make sure to bring a jar of each." You laughed as his Adams apple and his cock bobbed simultaneously, his imagination running wild with all the nasty things you would do to him.

"Good idea. Nah, scratch that, great idea," he corrected himself with a chuckle, lifting you into his arms bridal-style and carrying you out of the kitchen. "Right now, we both need a shower."

"Why do I got a feeling this 'shower' is gonna keep our guests waiting?"

He laughed with you and ascended the stairs. "You know me so well."

It was two p.m. by the time he was through with you. When you determined that your legs could function properly again, you dragged yourself out of his bed, changed into another set of pajamas and made your way back downstairs to put the finishing touches on the food and the rest of the house. You had just finished cleaning up the kitchen when this man came up behind you and ran his hands all over your body. His dick was hard.

"Again?" you breathed, biting back a gasp when he started undoing the strings of your pants. The guests would be arriving anytime soon.

"Just one more," he groaned huskily in your ear, grabbing a jar of chocolate sauce, "I've missed you so much, baby, I need to taste you one more time..."

About half an hour later, the doorbell rang. Jey and his wife Larissa were your first guests. When the front door opened, they took one good look at you and Roman; disheveled clothing, hair out of place, the smear of sauce over your left breast and on the corner of Roman's lips, and put two and two together.

"Y'all nasty," Larissa giggled and entered the house, with Jey merely shaking his head behind her.

🎄THE END🎄

-----------------

This is definitely my final story for the year. I'm so proud of how many I was able to churn out and EXTREMELY happy and proud of how much you all like it. Thank you all, I appreciate all your support and feedback more than you'll ever know! 🥺

Please leave feedback/comments. I appreciate them as they help me improve my writing.

Thank you all so much for reading!

Banner made by me. Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs.

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[hibiscuswrites]

Not sure if you allow this but I love your Crybaby series on your other blog and was wondering if you could do a Ghost and Price HC for how they react to crybaby!reader trying to make them sleep in the guest room because she's mad at them for missing another date

**As an overly sensitive cry baby Pisces I love doing these so it's absolutely allowed 💕 Also be gentle I've only written for them twice now 🥺**

He's not happy

He already feels like shit

Seeing the puffiness of your eyes when he walks through the door 4 hours late and finds you sitting on the couch watching TV all by yourself

He'll sigh and come up to you, reaching down to grab your chin

And feel a pang when you shift your face just out of his reach

"Don't touch me, please."

The raspiness of your voice that comes with a long cry plus those words hurt just the same as any blade or bullet he's taken

He'll stand there silently for a beat, trying to figure out what to do next

Because all he wants is to gather you into his arms and apologize

But not touching you?

It's cruel and unusual punishment, that he unfortunately deserves

He'll keep his hands to himself per your request, but that doesn't mean that they don't itch at his sides as he keeps them balled into fists to refrain from ignoring your wishes

He'll apologize, telling you that he's sorry

That he tried so hard to get home on time

That Price even tried to speed things up

But that time got away from him

And he'll make it up to you

But you've grown tired of what feels like another empty promise

And with a sniffle you wipe away another tear, getting up from the couch and making your way to the bedroom

"I'm going to bed."

He'd be hot on your heels, ready to get undressed and shower quickly to then hop in beside you and cuddle you close once you fall asleep

But your hand on his chest stops him

"Alone. I set the guest room up for you already."

His brain would short-circuit

Alone??

Half of him would want to give you the privacy you're asking for

But the other half says no chance in hell is he letting you sleep alone so you can cry yourself to sleep over him

"Come on, love. Don't be like that. I'll stay on my side, yeah? Won't even know I'm there."

And against his better judgment, he'd reach out and place his hand on your side, thumb rubbing soothing circles

He'd see your resolve crumbling and wiggle his way in, both hands on you now as he tugs you into him

"Let me put you to bed. Show ya how sorry I am."

He'd wince as he walked in the front door to find everything off

TV, lights, everything

You'd even turned off the little light above the stove that you usually left on for him to get around without tripping

Not even that was on

And he knew he was in for it

You'd planned this date out for weeks

Even sent him a selfie once you were all done getting ready

And he'd never even gotten the chance to see it until he got in the car, hours after the fact

He knew he would have to do some serious groveling once he got in bed with you, and he was fine with that

Nothing his mouth couldn't fix

So his surprise was endless when he grabbed the door handle to the bedroom and found it locked

"Sweetheart?"

Your lack of a response would make him knock gently as he rested his forehead against the door

Surely you locked it because you were afraid to be home alone with an unlocked door

So your sharp voice coming through the door would startle him

"Go away. You can sleep in the guest room since you don't like to spend time with me."

He'd stare at the door for a handful of seconds before chuckling, positive that you were only being a brat

"Come on, my love. Enough of this now. Open up so we can talk."

And he'd genuinely expect you too

Never once had you ever asked him to sleep in the guest room

But apparently, he had missed one date too many

"I'll talk to you tomorrow. Leave me alone and let me sleep."

He'd jiggle the doorknob a few times and then it'd be silence

And you'd figure he finally went to lie down in the spare room

Only for the knob to jiggle again, the sound of metal scrapping, and then the door to open, some gadget in his hand as he stepped into the room

A sheepish grin on his lips

"Not sleepin' anywhere other than right next to my baby."

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[miffysrambles]

Hi! I have a request, but feel free not to write it!^^

I also dont know if you have already wrote something like this so sorry if you have! But could you possibly, mayhaps, do a Macaque and Wukong (Separate) x reader where it's THAT time of the month for the reader and she's just in a lot of pain?

Wukong and Macaque with an S/O on Their Period

Wukong:

Since he is a monkey, he kinda freaked out the first time when he smelled blood on you when he walked through the door.

“Did anybody hurt ya peaches? Just give me the word and I’ll take care of it…” He held you by the shoulders as he furrowed his brow, the thought of you hurt made the anger rise in his chest. 

Of course, you explained to him what was going on as you lay in a fetal position, clutching your stomach on the couch. 

Wukong doesn’t really understand it at first, to be honest.

If it’s unpleasant, just stop having one?

Wukong…

After you explain to him you can’t control it and that’s not how it works, he’s more informed about the pain it leaves you in. 

However, it takes some time for him to fully wrap his head around the concept. 

After all, he wasn’t around mortals for many MANY years.

But don’t worry, that doesn’t mean he thinks you’re overdramatic! He can tell by the smell and the way you act you are genuinely in pain. 

Between the way your moods are different and the groaning as you two cuddle, he wished he could take the pain away from you.

You had to deal with this every month?

Damn, he admires you so much to be honest.

As mentioned before, you two cuddle twice as much when you’re on your period and that’s saying a lot considering you two cuddle quite often. 

Will rub your back and/or stomach (if you allow him to) as he kisses your forehead.

Of course, he has all your favorite snacks and drinks ready next to you guys so you can just take it easy!

"You just lay here in my arms peaches, forget about everything while ya rest."

Will even share his peach chips like the generous and oh-so-handsome boyfriend he is.

Praise him please.

Macaque:

Like Wukong, he was caught off guard when he smelled blood on you after you messaged him to come over. 

He was already planning murder in his head before you could even question why he was looking at you so intently.

“Where are they sugarplum… Who hurt you?...”

…Huh?

“You’re bleeding… Who hurt you?” His nose scrunched, twitching with fury.

Ohhhh!

After you explained to him what was actually going on, a sigh of relief escaped his lips.

Unlike Wukong however, he was familiar with periods as he lived in the city and was around humans more often. 

Be prepared to get treated like a princess during your period.

You want food? Sit right there while he goes and gets you takeout along with your favorite snacks.

Need something hot to press against your aching abdomen? He’s already heating a water bottle on the stove for you with some painkillers which he totally paid for. 

Don’t you dare worry about anything right now, you just relax and let him take care of everything.

Don’t worry about mood outbursts as well, he knows your hormones are out of wack during that time.

Your favorite part of your period is when he lays your head in his lap and plays with your hair as you both lay in bed while the TV plays in the background.

Of course, he does it for you all the time, but his fingers running through your hair are just extra soothing and distracts from the pain in your uterus. 

Smiles down at you as he mumbles praises to you, 

“Look at how pretty you are right now. How did I get so lucky, huh?”

“You did get lucky, don’t forget it.”

He laughs at your playful response, nodding as he chuckled some more.

“You got it sweet cheeks.”

[somber-sapphic]

Cooking With A Cold

〖500 Follower Prompt: “Oh sweetheart, you’re worse than I thought” + “Sorry, I can’t stop sneezing” + 🏥〗

〖Summary: You hurt yourself while trying to cook a romantic meal for your girlfriend.〗

〖Word Count: 1.5k〗

〖Pairing: Natasha x Sick Reader〗

〖A/N: Hello! So, some of you may know there was a bit of a "situation" last week which threw me off a bit and I decide to postpone posting this. I know, it's been months, but I really needed to recompose and regroup which changed my plan. Sorry, I know this is a bit long but I hope you enjoy!〗

☾Masterlists☽ ☾500 Masterlist☽

Natasha had just gotten home from a long mission and when she had come into the kitchen you’d screeched at her to get out, not wanting to ruin the surprise. She’d left laughing and was currently sitting on the couch in preparation for what she didn't expect to be an incredibly fancy dinner. She knew that you hated to cook and assumed you’d just thrown a few frozen things in the oven and mac and cheese or something on the stove. 

Instead, you had taken it upon yourself to make her favorite dinner and a dessert to go with. Over the two weeks that she had been gone, you’d been watching cooking videos and practicing in your spare time. There was a lot of spare time. You had decided to make her a medium-rare steak with baked asparagus and sauteed mushrooms. Following that there was a cheesecake in the fridge that had come out much better than you’d expected.

When planning this fancy meal that you very much didn't know how to cook, you had been so excited. You were thrilled to get to spend real time with your girlfriend and you wanted her to tell you everything about the ocean and beach and blue skies. It hadn't been a particularly dangerous mission, and you were sure that she’d be happy to tell you all of the more fun details. 

So of course, your body had decided to throw something at you. Maybe it was the long nights spent awake wishing you weren't alone in your bed, maybe it was the fact that one of the Avengers (Clint) seemed intent on spending time with you even though he was clearly sick (it was probably the second one), but the cause didn't matter because you were sick. Sick sick. 

You didn't have a little sniffle that you could push through with a dose of cold medicine and a few tissues, you had a full-on everything hurts, whole body feels hot and cold, stuffy and runny nose, dizziness, chest cough that won't let up kind of cold. Or maybe the flu. You weren't sure, but that didn't particularly matter to you either. For now, all that mattered was you staying upright for long enough to finish this meal. 

Between breaks of sitting on the floor and about one million tissues, you’d managed to get down to the last stretches. The steak was done, and ready to be cut. The mushrooms were sitting on the stove covered by a pot lid to keep them warm. All that was left was the asparagus sitting in the oven and the timer for those had just gone off. 

You pulled yourself to your feet and stumbled slightly, the world shifting quickly around you as your center of gravity changed. It was all you could do not to grab the hot stovetop and stumble into the counter instead, hoping that you hadn't made too much noise. You may have felt awful, but you didn't need Natasha to know that. 

With your brain on autopilot, you stuck your hands into the oven and grabbed the metal pan with a bare hand. You were so out of it and ready to be finished cooking dinner that you hadn't realized you had forgotten the oven mitt until you felt white-hot pain shoot through your hand. 

You pulled back with a strangled gasp, catching the back of your hand on one of the oven racks as you did. Tears of pain clouded your vision momentarily and you clutched your hand to your chest, unsure what to do. The gasp led to a fit of coughing that left you doubled over and panicking. If you just kept standing there your dinner would burn, but you were pretty sure that your hand was useless. And the room was still spinning.

Now you’d have to get Natasha and she would be upset because not only had you ruined dinner, but she’d also need to take care of you. You stood there frozen, and to your utter horror, you began to cry. The frustration of it all was too much. All you’d wanted to do was make a nice hot dinner for your incredibly busy girlfriend and now you needed her help. 

“Hey Nat?” You called out in a watery voice, congestion seeping into your worlds. You sniffled and brought your tightly clenched hand up to wipe your nose on your sleeve, doing your best not to disturb the burn. A tiny part of your brain was telling you that you should probably be running it under cool water or at least stick it in the fridge, but it hadn't quite caught up to the part that was shutting down the pain. 

Natasha, bounced into the room, her smile lighting up her eyes falling as she saw the twisted expression on your face and the protective way you were holding your hand. You could feel your lower lip quivering and your nose might have been running again but you weren't sure, you were just humiliated. To be safe, you swiped your hand against your fist and sniffled. 

“Oh dorogory, what happened?” She asked, rushing over to wrap her arms around you. You laid your head against her shoulder and let out a whimper, wishing that you didn't have to admit to your failure out loud. This was all so humiliating. 

She pulled back for a moment and cupped your cheek, lips pursed, and eyebrows furrowed. She glanced back at the half-open oven, then at your hand, then back into your eyes and you watched her face go from pure terror for your safety to understanding concern. 

“Show me please?” Nat murmured, not wanting to force your hand open and risk hurting you more. You started to nod, but quickly wrenched away to sneeze into your elbow. One sneeze turned into four which turned into a bout of raspy coughing which made you glad you’d managed to turn in time. You didn't want to get her sick too. 

You extended your hand at the end of the fit, revealing the blistering burn across your palm. 

“Oh, Y/n, I could tell you were sick, but sweetheart, you’re worse than I thought!” She exclaimed, studying your burn intensely as she flicked her eyes up to your mess of a face. You wrinkled your nose and sniffled again, blinking rapidly at her. Black dots had appeared in the corners of your vision in these last few seconds, and you were beginning to wonder how much longer you’d be able to stand up. 

“Shit, okay. Let's get you sitting.” You didn't have to say a word, Natasha was right there wrapping her arm around your waist and leading you to the living room. She even managed to turn the oven off as she practically carried you out and set you down on the sofa. 

You leaned against the arm of the couch and rested your head on the cushion, another low rumbling cough echoing through your chest. It hurt to breathe, and you could hear a slight wheeze that might be more audible to those with less clogged ears. 

“Okay. This hand really doesn't look great baby and I don't like the sound of your breathing. You’re going to hate this, but there’s an Urgent Care a few minutes away and I think we need to go. They might be able to get you something for the pain and something to open up those lungs, okay?” She didn't bother to sugarcoat (much) and her tone made it clear that she wasn't asking. Whether you wanted to or not, you had earned yourself a trip to Urgent Care. 

Instead of answering you sneezed again, barely able to direct the sneezes to your lap rather than in her direction. You knew it was gross, but you couldn't seem to make your limbs cooperate the way you wanted them to. Lifting a pinky felt like lifting a thousand tons. 

“M’sorry. I can’t stop sneezing.” You mumbled, hoping those words were enough to convey just how sorry you were, not just for the sneezing but for everything. Natasha kissed the top of your head and pressed a tissue to your nose, guiding your uninjured hand to hold it there. 

“No apologies my love, just sit tight. I’ll get your shoes and your favorite blanket then we’ll head out, okay?” She soothed, running your fingers through your hair as she talked.

Her voice was the sound of summer rain on a warm night, slow rolling waves on a white sand beach, and birds chirping in a lush green forest. It was every comforting thing anyone could think of plus ten more. She was all that. She never failed to make you feel safe, loved, accepted, and, most importantly, worthy of feeling all of those good things. 

You nodded wearily and let yourself melt against the couch as she moved around you, turning off lights and gathering whatever she thought that you would need. You were dreading whatever might happen at Urgent Care, but if she was there you knew that it would be okay. She’d make sure that it was all okay. And when you felt better, you’d make her that damn dinner. 

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[dadvans]

wip wednesday

bucktommy mpreg :: buck finds out he's pregnant after tommy breaks up with him and they make a mess of the boundaries

Tommy comes up the stairs two at a time when he doesn’t find Buck downstairs.

Think of it, Buck tells himself: Tommy bringing over another guy he knows who can fuck his mouth as good as Tommy can fuck his ass. It drives him right to the brink, and Buck promises himself, he can make it through the finish line and fake a sweaty, heaving nightmare by the time Tommy finds him.

He doesn’t.

“Buck?” Tommy says again, and then he sees Buck like a slug furled out in his sheets writhing and chasing the orgasm that just won’t come, so then he takes that awful one step back down, and says, “Oh, I’m sorry. Oh.”

Buck finally stops fucking his fist and slams his good hand palm flat into the mattress beside him. “Shit! No, I am. I am. Please don’t go. Give me a second. Fuck.”

“Buck,” Tommy says from the stairwell, deeper now, like he’s been weighted down by despair. Buck twists to look at him, but he can’t even see Tommy’s face.

“Sorry, I thought I could,” Buck continues unthinkingly, “I thought I could finish before you came up here. I’ve just been— the hormones are making me crazy. I wasn’t trying to—“

“You told me to come over when our calendars synced up to discuss a birth plan, and—“

“—Yeah, yeah, I absolutely said that and I meant it, and maybe I hoped you would have called or texted first—“

“—I called—“

“—Shit! Sorry, fuck. Have you ever heard of pregnancy brain?” He feels delirious. Too horny and trying to find the one branch on his way down that will bear his weight. His dick is throbbing, even when its only half-hard now. There’s this ugly need to get off roiling through him like a hot pot of water left on a stove too long, ready to boil into nothing at all if left alone. “It’s that, I swear. I’m so fucking horny right now I wish I knew what’s right and what’s wrong. I thought I could fake it, get off and whoever came in, no one would know, but I heard your voice, and, fuck, Tommy, please.”

“Buck.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t see your call.” He looks away, chin tilting back up to the ceiling as he slides his flat palm down the underside of his hard dick and thrusts against it, dry grooves and all. “It could’ve been my fucking mom, I wouldn’t have known.”

Buck hears Tommy breathe in and out from so far away, the same measured, shaky rhythm as his hand, slow and cruel, keeping every last ugly feeling alive.

“Want me to meet you outside, what, ten minutes?” Tommy asks. “Twenty?”

He should say yes, sorry, yes, please, he’s so fucking sorry. It’s these goddamn hormones, it’s this goddamn oops baby, he’ll get his shit together, buttoned up and on schedule, regular, as soon as he can.

But then there’s the thought of Tommy, two fingers in his ass, gritty with lube and slow as anything, them rocking together in the same spot he’s in now. There’s Tommy picking him up behind the thighs to get the back of Buck’s knees cradling his shoulders, driving into him so deep that Buck could taste him, right in this bed, moaning shaky into the same pillow he’s already sweating into like the walls would’ve fallen down around them. There’s Tommy, voice honey warm, saying, “There you go, baby, take it, take it all.” A ledger of things that would make his breaker box burst if he were an old home.

He closes his eyes, grinds his teeth together. “These hormones are just over-riding everything else in my brain, okay. And it doesn’t have to mean anything, but it would be a lot quicker if you came up here instead and helped.”

He expects Tommy to say no. He expects Tommy to say, in the best case scenario, “You know I can’t do that, I’m sorry.” He expects Tommy to say, in the worst case scenario, “Go fuck yourself.”

The tiniest hope, the ugliest hope that lives too deep down for Buck to think about, bursts hot and heavy when Tommy sighs and takes the few steps back upstairs.

[softspiderling]

risk it all | b.r.b

summary: the gym fic™️

pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader

warnings: breaking gym etiquette, thirsty reader

word count: 3,4k

author's note: coming back with a bang i guess🤪thanks to jordan, may and sol for the continuous support ily guys.

He was staring.

You thought it was a fluke at first, that he was looking at someone that was standing behind you, but there wasn’t anyone. 

You had checked. 

Several times. 

The moment you realized that he was looking at you, you started sweating profusely. And it wasn’t because of the exercise, even though it was indeed kicking your ass. You weren’t a gym junkie by all means, and you didn’t even know if you were doing the exercise correctly. 

About your second rep in, you had enough and lifted your head to meet his gaze head on. His eyebrows shot up in surprise and he had the decency to flush when he turned his eyes away. Letting out a grunt of annoyance, you finished your last rep, picking up your water bottle and taking an angry swig from it. You glared daggers at the man, who had his back turned to you by now and headed to the changing rooms, grabbing your stuff.

“What’s got you all hot and bothered?” Natasha asked when you came home, kicking the door shut behind you. 

“There was an asshole at the gym who was staring at me.”

Natasha pulled a face, twisting her hair into a bun, the heat of the stove getting to her. 

“You know I keep telling you to come to my gym instead.”

“UGH! I wish I could, but I literally just made a year-long contract with my gym like two months ago,” you groaned, dropping down on the couch like a sack of potatoes. “Couldn’t you have told me about your gym before I made my contract?”

Natasha peaked her head out of the kitchen to laugh at you and you couldn’t even be bothered to glare at her. It was weird how comfortable you were around each other, even though you’ve barely known each other for a month. You had posted an ad online that you were looking for a roommate and after countless interviews with people that were okay-ish, but not really your vibe, you met Natasha at a coffee shop and after bonding over your lactose-intolerance, you offhandedly mentioned you were searching for a roommate.

Yeah.

Admittedly a very weird thing to bond over, but now you always had a carton of oat milk and a carton of coconut milk in your fridge and a very cool roommate. 

“Well, then you gotta power through it. I’m sure you won’t see him again, and if you do, don’t hesitate to confront him, babe,” Natasha said, ever the strong woman. “Now go shower, you stink. Dinner is ready soon.”

She disappeared back into the kitchen and you forced yourself up, dragging a hand over your face, your hair sticking to your sweaty forehead. You always liked to think that you were as strong as she was, but all your bravado usually left you as soon as you opened your mouth.

You just hoped you wouldn’t see him again, so you didn’t have to confront him at all.

The next time you were at the gym, it was about two weeks later and you had completely forgotten about the guy. Over the past week, it had gotten unbearably hot and you couldn’t find the strength to go to the gym to sweat even more so you gave yourself a time off until it cooled down again. It wasn’t exactly chilly, but at least it wasn’t that humid in the gym. The gym wasn’t packed as it usually was around this time, so it didn’t take you long to get through your workout. When you sat down on one of your last machines, you tensed slightly when you saw him right across from you, doing weighted pull-ups. 

To your annoyance, you realized that he was hot. 

Like, really hot. 

The shirt he was wearing was thin and white, miles of defined muscle just underneath,  His arms were huge, biceps straining as he pulled himself up and then lowered himself again. With a grunt he dropped down from the bars and you quickly averted your gaze, getting busy with your own weights. When you were all done, you straightened up your back and started the exercise, seeing how he was standing basically straight across from you, slightly to the left. 

Opting to just stare into the mirror on the other side of the wall, you could still see him looking at you out of the corner of your eyes. You couldn’t help it, but for a split second, you glanced over to him. Unlike the last time, he actually held your gaze and until you turned away, your cheeks turning red. 

God, what a fucking dick. 

You dropped the weights with a loud thunk, reaching for your phone.

roomie one: that fucking douchebag is here again

roomie two: Gym starer?

roomie one: … yes

roomie two: Get him!

roomie one: i’m not going to confront him in the middle of the gym

roomie two: Well, he’d deserve it.

The timer on the chest press indicated that your resting time was over, so you put your phone away. getting back to your workout. While you had been texting Natasha, gym starer had gotten back on the bar, his back to you. Small beads of sweat started to form on the nape of his neck, running down the back of the straining shirt that stretched across his shoulders every time he flexed his arms to pull himself up. 

After a while, you realized that you had done way more reps than you were supposed to, your muscles aching in protest. Cursing, you dropped the weights, gently this time, and wiped your face with your towel. Lifting your head, you could see that he was looking at you again and since you didn’t want to be that creepy person who stared at someone else in the gym, like he kept doing, you decided it was enough for the day and went to the locker rooms. Luckily, no one was in there, so you leaned your head against the cold metal of the lockers, letting out a frustrated scream. 

“Cut your workout short?” 

Wordlessly, you held your hand up, shutting the front door behind you, too annoyed with yourself to talk, and Natasha raised an eyebrow at you, putting her book away. Dropping your gym bag on the floor, you took a seat at the dining table and laid your head down. 

“He’s hot,” you muttered against the wooden surface. 

“I didn’t understand a thing.”

With a long sigh, you lifted your head, looking at Natasha with a pout. “Gym starer. He’s hot.”

“Ah, so now he’s not the creepy gym starer anymore,” Natasha snorted, putting her feet on the coffee table and you glared at her. Because she was right. Screw double-standards.

“God, you should’ve seen him,” you moaned, covering your face with your hands. “His arms are huge. And his shirt was so thin, I could basically see through the fabric and ugh-”

Natasha pulled a face. “Gross.”

“Shut up. Not everyone can like women,” you huffed, standing up. “I need to take a shower. 

“Yeah you do, you’re dripping all over the floor.”

“Jesus, Tash,” you exclaimed and Natasha only cackled at you as you headed to the bathroom to grab a shower, hoping to wash this dirty feeling away. While you stood under the stream of the water, you let out a sigh. You could not develop a crush on gym starer. That would be against your principles and it would be just, really fucking inconvenient. 

Unfortunately you weren’t one of those girls who got cute gym sets and looked like they just walked out of a Lululemon ad. Instead, you wore the most basic black running tights with a random sports bra and your hair ALWAYS stuck to your sweaty forehead, no matter how you wore it. And it was fine with you, because you weren’t going to the gym to pick up guys, you went there to stay fit and challenge yourself.

But a gym crush? No thanks. 

Toweling your wet hair, you exited the bathroom, leaving the door open so the warm air could escape. You plopped down on the couch next to Natasha and crossed her arms, looking at you in amusement.

“Have you ever thought about why he’s staring at you?”

“He’s probably laughing at me because I’m doing the exercise all wrong. Or because I sweat so much.”

“Or he’s into you?”

“And that’s why he’s staring at me?” you scoffed, draping the towel around your shoulders, tugging it from both ends. “He’s probably just like one of those weird gym rat bros who judges everyone who doesn’t go to the gym every day. I mean, he’s fucking ripped, Tash.”

“I know, you already said that!” Natasha groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’m heading out for drinks with my squadron soon. Do you want to come along? Maybe you can find someone hot who will take your mind off of gym starer.”

“I doubt it. Maybe next time, Tash. Thanks for the invitation, though.”

You exhaled as you pushed through the last reps of your first set, your legs trembling. It took you a few days until you dared to go back to the gym. You were terrified you’d get caught staring at gym starer (oh the irony in that phrase), but when you were certain that you’d forgotten what he had looked like, you packed your bag and went to the gym. 

Relaxing your legs, you lifted them out of the machine when, out of the corner of your eye, you saw someone standing next to you. Pausing, you glanced at him, just to see gym starer looking at you. His mouth was moving, but the music from your headphones was too loud. Holding up your finger, he pressed his lips together until you tugged the headphones out of your ears.

“Sorry, what were you saying?”

“Um…” Gym starer paused, his cheeks red. “I- uh… I wanted to know how much longer you’re gonna take on the leg press.”

“Oh. Uh, two more sets?”

“... Okay,” he said, pausing like he wanted to add something, but then quickly turned on his heel, walking away.

Furrowing your brows, you put your headphones back into your ears. Weird. As you shifted your weight in the seat, you looked to the right, doing a double take when you saw the other leg-press, unoccupied. 

“What the fuck,” you muttered to yourself, leaning your hands on your legs. When you left the gym twenty minutes later, gym starer was nowhere to be seen. 

A few days later, you were lounging on the couch, catching up with some of your favorite tv shows. You needed a break from the gym, at least until you’d get your thoughts sorted. You didn’t know how he did it, but whenever you walked into the gym he was there, even though your gym routine was pretty irregular. Just as the credits of the latest Suits episode started rolling, Natasha suddenly barged into the apartment, making you jump.

“Jesus, what the hell?”

“I’m heading to the bar with my squadron, do you want to come with me?”

You sighed, burrowing deeper into the couch. “I don’t know… I’m so comfy. And I don’t even know anyone there.”

Natasha gave you a look, leaning her hands into her hips, which could only mean that you were about to get a lecture from her. You gulped. 

“You don’t know anyone because you always turn me down whenever I ask you to come out, seriously! I am not accepting a no.”

“Fine, okay,” you huffed with wide eyes, raising your hands in defense. “Just let me get changed, I guess.” With a nod, Natasha disappeared into the bathroom while you headed to your bedroom to get changed, reluctantly. While you were miffed that your plans of staying in had been thrown over, you respected Natasha enough to admit that she was right. Half an hour later, a cab dropped you off at the beach, in front of a small bar aptly called the Hard Deck. 

“Hey, is this like, a Navy bar?” you asked Natasha with a frown as you walked through the door. 

“Yeah. I did tell you that we were getting drinks with my squadron.”

Letting your eyes roam when you got inside, you noticed that almost everyone was dressed in uniform, one way or another, but luckily, there were some people dressed in civvies, so you wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb. You stopped mid-walk, when you saw him, narrowing your eyes.

Gym starer. Because of course he’d be here. 

God was just pulling on all the strings in your life and laughing at you like you were his personal entertainment. It took gym starer a few seconds to spot you, but when he did, he basically spat out his beer all over the counter. 

“Jeez Bradshaw, what’s gotten into you?”

Natasha laughing, having rounded the bar, standing behind gym starer and clapping him on the back and while you gaped at her.

“You know him?”

Gym starer - Bradshaw, or whatever - was coughing, his cheeks flaming red as Natasha raised an eyebrow at you. 

“He flies with me. Bradley Bradshaw- Rooster’s in my squadron.”

“He’s gym starer.”

“I’m what?” 

“Ew,” Natasha only said, looking Bradley up and down, clearly unhappy with him. “Do you not know gym etiquette?”

“I wasn’t staring!” Bradley protested. “I mean, maybe I was, but I didn’t mean to. I swear.”

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I need a drink,” you muttered, moving over to the bar to flag down the bartender. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Natasha berating Bradley and him scowling at her, a bit miffed, before she rolled her eyes at him. 

“Hey, what can I get you?” 

Turning your eyes away, you looked at the smiling bartender. 

“Gin and tonic?” 

The bartender gave a brief nod, and went on to mix your drink, handing it to you after you slapped a ten dollar bill on the counter. You sipped your drink through the small black straw, relaxing slightly as the liquid burned in your throat. Your relaxation was cut short however, when you realized Bradley was walking towards you, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully. Taking another long sip, hoping the liquid courage would help you out of this incredibly awkward situation, you raised your chin to look at him. 

“I, uh. Was made aware that I might’ve come across as creepy,” Bradley said, his cheeks still pink. 

“You think?”

Bradley winced. “I’m really sorry. I don’t like to bother people during their workout, but I just didn’t know how I was supposed to start talking to you. And when I finally got the courage to approach you, you kind of shut me down.”

You narrowed your eyes in confusion, trying to think back when he came up to talk to you in the gym. 

“Wait… You mean when you asked me how many sets I had left?”

You didn’t think it was possible, but Bradley flushed an even deeper pink as he nodded. 

“Yeah… I actually kind of asked you out, but you didn’t hear me, so I just felt weird and made up a lame excuse.”

“Wait, what?”

Bradley chuckled nervously, and you only stared at him in disbelief. So Natasha was right. Now it was your turn to blush

“I didn’t realize,” you explained and Bradley waved his hands around, giving you an embarrassed smile.

“Don’t worry about it, seriously. I’m sorry, again. I understand that you’re not interested, I am not here to pester you or anything, I just wanted to apologize.” Bradley turned to leave, but you stopped him, grabbing his arm.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t interested!” You protested, making Bradley turn back to you, the corner of his mouth ticking up in a grin. 

“Yeah?”

You let go of his arm, rolling your eyes a bit. It was comical how quickly his facial expressions could change.

“Why don’t we start over?” Bradley asked, offering his hand. “I’m Bradley Bradshaw, nice to meet you.”

*

Zoe straightened her back after she adjusted her weights, letting her gaze wander through the gym. It wasn’t extremely busy and there were just a few people working out. She didn’t usually like coming to the gym after work, because she usually couldn’t get herself to leave her apartment after she got home. Today however, work was so crazy that Zoe had to release her stress somewhere, so gym it was. Zoe’s eyes stopped on the brunet guy when doing a double take when she noticed that his gaze was set on you and she could literally feel her eye twitch. 

She didn’t really know you, but she’s seen you around the gym sometimes when you were working out, always by yourself. The guy didn’t really seem too focused on his workout as he kept his eyes steady on you and Zoe bristled. Sometimes she really hated men.

Zoe tried to channel all her anger in her workout, while still keeping an eye on you just in case. Throughout her workout, she wasn’t able to keep her eyes on you for the whole time, but when she got into the changing rooms and saw you packing your bag, she sighed in relief. 

Shooting you a small smile, Zoe grabbed her bag and her jacket and headed outside, stopping in the doorway when she saw him waiting by the door. He looked up from his phone, looking at her puzzled when she only glared at him and turned on her heel to head back inside, the door falling shut in its hinges. She walked towards you, waiting until you looked up before she spoke.

“Hey, I’m Zoe,” she said and you introduced yourself as well, if a bit bewildered. 

“I’m sorry, I know we don’t know each other at all, but there’s this weird guy hanging around outside the changing rooms. We could walk to the parking lot together.”

“What?” you asked, confused and Zoe took a deep breath, laughing nervously.

“Um, there was this guy who kept staring at you while you worked out? I don’t know if you noticed, but he was pretty focused on you. He’s standing right outside the changing rooms like a creep.”

You blinked at her before your facial expression completely changed, as you burst out in laughter. Now Zoe was very confused. 

“Oh, please this is too funny. It’s really sweet of you, but I’m okay, really. He’s my boyfriend,” you explained and Zoe flushed. 

“Oh god, I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t worry about it,” you said with a laugh. “He’s a bit dense sometimes. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

You swung your bag over your shoulder and Zoe had no choice but to follow you, even though she willed the ground to open up and swallow her whole. When you opened the door, your boyfriend slipped his phone into his pocket, surprised to see Zoe following you closely. 

“Hey, everything okay?” he asked as you only snickered, shaking your head at him. 

“Babe, this is Zoe. Zoe, this is my boyfriend, Bradley,” you introduced them, and Zoe could only plaster on a smile, while Bradley shook her hand, looking at you a bit lost. “Zoe thought you were creepy because you were staring at me the whole time like a creeper.”

“Oh,” Bradley muttered dumbly, his cheeks tinging pink. “Sorry, bad habit of mine. But thank you for looking out for my girl,” he told Zoe and she laughed nervously. 

“Sure. We girls gotta look out for each other, right?”

“‘course. Hey, when are you coming here next?” You asked and Zoe shrugged with her shoulders. 

“I’m not sure yet.”

You reached for your phone, holding it out to her. “We could go together, if you want? I’ll leave Bradley at home if we do, I promise.”

Bradley only groaned, turning his face away and your face was split open in a big grin, so Zoe only smiled as she punched her number into your phone, before handing it back to you. 

“Great, I’ll text you, okay,” you promised, putting your phone away. “It was really nice meeting you Zoe.”

“It was nice meeting you too, bye.”

Bradley only waved his hand in wordless goodbye as you left, his arm wrapping around your waist. As you walked out, Zoe could hear the beginnings of your conversation. 

“-you. It’s creepy and clearly, I’m not the only one who thinks that!”

“I’m sorry! You know I want to focus on my workout, but you keep distracting me, especially when you wear those leggings…”

x

a/n: i like to think that while bradley does have game, he can be quite dense sometimes hehe. i hope you liked it!

taglist: @littlebadariell // @labellapeaky // @solacestyles // @shaded-echoes // @madielake //  @diorrfairy // @luckyladycreator2 // @ssaic-jareau // @xoxabs88xox // @averyhotchner   // @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  // @tiredqueen73 // @alexxavicry // @classyunknownlover

[gretavanlace]

Blank

Josh Kiszka x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, language, dirty talk, discussion of poor self image/shaky mental health, praise, degradation, dumbification, impact play (spanking), etc

You’re standing in front of the floor length mirror when Josh’s voice finds you…turning this way and that with your t-shirt pulled tight around your belly and a frown furrowing your brow.

“The movie’s ready, baby.” There’s a smile in his tone, and a dramatic flare, as there so often is, as he leans against the door jamb. “And I made the popcorn on the stove like you like. None of that microwaved bullshit for my darling doll.”

You’d like to find your excitement in order to match his own - movie night is his favorite night of the week. Often, it turns into several nights a week, in keeping with his passion for film and curling up snug and warm with you on the couch.

And normally, you look forward to it as well, but tonight…

Well, tonight you’d just as soon crawl into bed alone and in the dark. How else will you ever manage to tune out all those poisonous thoughts hissing through your mind? Obsidian. Ominous. Hateful.

“What are you doing, babe?” There is concern in his query. He knows you far too well.

Dropping your shirt as if it’s white hot, you slip away from the mirror, praying he’ll let the matter drop. Though, you hope in vain. You know him far too well, too. “Nothing. C’mon, whatever masterpiece you’ve selected isn’t going to watch itself.”

He steps into the room and you suppress a sigh of defeat. “Waterloo Bridge.” He clarifies, studying you intently. “And you’re a shitty liar. What’s wrong?”

“I said it’s nothing, Josh,” there’s a touch too much venom in your tone, but sometimes you wish he didn’t see so damn much. Sometimes you wish you could skate around things with him.

“And that’s a lie,” he points out, sidling up behind you when you turn away. “Do we lie to one another?”

“No.” You concede quietly as his arms cradle you from behind.

“So, would you like to try again?” His embrace is soft, but it makes you feel safe and protected all the same. He has this way about him - he is love and light, sunshine and smiles, gentle poetry…but something lies hidden away behind it all, something only you get to see, and it makes for the most deliciously dark and menacing aura when it comes out to play.

“I just,” now you’re stammering like a child caught with a crayon in her hand and scribbles on the wall.

His lips move along the nape of your neck, brushing over your skin and the whispers of hair that have fallen from your bun, “You just, what?”

“I had lunch with my sister today.” You offer meekly. Can’t he ever just leave things alone? Can’t he ever just let you curl up with your self-loathing?

“Yes,” he nods, now pecking at the curve of your jaw, “And I adore you for not making me come along…she’s exhausting.”

“I know.” His palms are now running along beneath your shirt, circling your belly with tender possessiveness…it’s soothing and filled up full of love, but you wish his hands would land somewhere a little more flattering “But she’s also truthful. She thinks I should start going to the gym with her, and she’s right.”

He stills behind you instantly, and you can feel him shaking his head, though you’ve closed your eyes against the embarrassment of it all.

Eager to fill the room up with words rather than your own vulnerability, you rush on “She’s is, though. Right, I mean. I’ve put on weight, and the older I get, the harder it will be to take off. Obviously, I’ve never been small, but—“

He cuts you off with a loose palm around your throat and a snapped, “Stop.” Breathed in your ear.

“Josh,” Christ, you want to melt into the floor, “I love you for always being so sweet, but I,”

You haven’t the chance to finish your thought and his grip is tightening, “I said, stop.”

A joke will quench the fire burning in your cheeks, “C’mon, what if I got all adorable and tiny like your little hippy girls in the crowd? I—“

A sharp pinch to the curve of your hip shocks you into silence, which he promptly fills. “Don’t say things like that. You’re fucking beautiful. Soft and warm. I want to nestle my face right here,” his hand is splayed out wide across your belly again, “and right here,” his touch drops to find the dimples in your thighs, “for the rest of my life. If we get to choose our heaven, you will be mine. Gorgeous, perfect girl.”

Now you’re struggling to squirm out of his insistent embrace. You feel too seen. And though you know he is nothing if not sincere, always…those lovely words of his, they feel like untruths.

“Josh,” you snap, a little too harshly, “let’s just go watch the movie, okay?”

But it’s too late, he has spotted the quiver at your bottom lip.

“Hey,” he spins you around to face him and you know it’s useless to shut him out at this point. “What’s going on up here, hmm?” He taps your temple gently, “Is it getting loud?”

You know he means those intrusive thoughts that plague you when the love and admiration he beams in your direction isn’t enough. He knows the way they scream and yell at you no matter how badly he’d love to quiet them for good.

Ashamed, you stare down at his t-shirt, toying with the cotton between your fidgeting fingers, “Maybe a little,” you hush.

His fist tucks under your chin, tilting your face upward, but still, you refuse his gaze. “You need it, baby?”

Voice soft and leading, he lures you out of your bashfulness just enough for you to find the bravery to blink up at him with the tiniest of nods.

“Yeah?” He sounds so unlike himself - but also, exactly like himself. “You need me to make it go away? Wipe that wild mind until you’re as blank as you are pretty?”

Josh is small, and he has never shied away from that, but in these moments, he feels larger than life…looming like a God sent to bring you peace. “Can you, please?’

With a taunting flick of your nipple, he switches on. “Well, how could I ever say no to such a sweet girl? You sound like honey when you say please.”

The warmth of his body, so near to yours, is suddenly missing, but you’re feeling a little too meek to glance up to see where he’s gone…opting to stare at your thumbnail in earnest instead, resisting the urge to pick your cuticle.

“Come on, doll,” his voice comes hushed as a siren’s secret song floating through a cove “Miss you already.”

You feel unworthy of this. Of him. Of all the tiny ways he loves you just right. How he has memorized you in and out. The way he looks at you like he could happily stare forever. How he understands even when he doesn’t quite understand…how he took your heart and turned it round and round until he had mapped out every inch. How he dives inside your mind every day and does the same, no matter how tragic and treacherous it can be to wade through those waters.

When you had stumbled upon this, it had been by accident really. A harsh crack of his palm against the globe of your ass by way of quieting you when you’d argued with his stuttering praises as he pushed into you over and over from behind. Your brain had short circuited in the most welcomed and stunning way. That stinging impact, the shock of it, the tangible pain, had left no room for cruel thoughts…your mind was muffled up like lavender cotton with nothing but Josh and what he saw fit to give.

Most times, he loves you hard enough just by being himself. Golden, shimmering aura, grinning heart, sure and tender hands…but sometimes you need this from him - and he is always willing to oblige. You hold the key that turns all his locks, and he would sink into a bed of hot coals for a nap if you thought to ask it of him.

With a clipped call of your name, he’s got you hustling across the room to fold yourself shyly over his knee at the foot of the bed.

“That’s perfect, baby.” He coos down at you, palm stroking over the backs of your thighs before bunching your t-shirt up around your waist. “Gonna make it all go away, aren’t I? Is that what you need? You need me to take it all away?”

“Please.” You sound pathetic, but already it’s a sweeter sort of shame. One you can name. One you can love.

His fingers tuck under the cotton of your panties, hooking at the soft lace that adorns the edges, straightening them as though he’s adjusting the ribbon on a present he’s waited a very long time to receive.

“If I had to guess,” he hums, a little like the kindest bully you’ve ever known, “I’d wager your pretty pussy’s feeling lonely already. Maybe a little whiny. Maybe starting to swell…” his hands continue to pet at your ass, your thighs, your hips, “I love that, you know? Watching how puffy and swollen you get. It’s adorable…and fucking sexy. Your body begs without a sound.”

Your grip is twisting into the blanket beneath you now as your cheek nuzzles against the downy softness “Josh…”

“Quiet,” he bestows a single, much too delicate smack in the wrong place. It’s too far off to the side for your liking, and he knows it. “We’ll get there. You’re gonna listen first.”

An obedient nod tugs yet another delicious hum of approval from him and you squirm lightly under his hands, thrumming with pleasure at the sound of his validation.

“You’re alright, baby…” he’s being so gentle. Too gentle. But you would lie here beneath his hands and his gaze for all of eternity if that’s what would suit him. “My poor thing just needs it, doesn’t she? Busy little head needs to just leave…” a soft swat lands upon your cheek just below the waist, “her…” another, “alone,” and another.

“Harder, Josh…” it’s a piteous plea, one that pairs nicely with the honeyed, condescending melodies drifting off his tongue.

“Tell me what you’d like me to do to you.” He’s coaxing so kindly, but you know what lurks below that shiny surface. “Say the words, my darling doll. Say the words.”

With a deep, centering breath, you find the calm in your storm by way of his scent…eucalyptus and bergamot…woodsy hint of lemon soap lingering beneath. You find strength in his presence, and love there, too.

“Spank me.” It pants out of you like an urgent prayer. “Make it stop.”

As if in punctuation to your begging, he lands a harsh, loud, cracking strike against the fat of your ass. It comes quickly, shaking your equilibrium though this is exactly what you’ve been imploring him for.

“Fuck!” The curse pushes out of your lungs, long and grateful. Blindsided and aching.

Another blow lands in exactly the same place, setting the flesh there on fire. “Yeah? Fuck?” He taunts, “That’s a good fucking doll…you just take it.”

“More,” you’re rocking around, blissful at the pain and the twitching of his hard cock beneath you.

He begins laying into you without restraint, blow after blow raining down on you like merciful salvation. Your brain is numb now - quiet, hazy and clouded with his perfect wrath.

Tears are streaking like fire down your cheeks, a graven image of mother Mary sobbing blood in a candlelit room of worship come to life. He is your alter. He is your God.

“That’s my girl,” his accolades stutter out between smack after smack until he pauses to jerk your legs apart. “You’re dripping all over me. Baby needs it right here, too?” There is his touch, love and reverence woven into the very fingerprints nudging at your covered entrance. “Dirty little cunt needs a spanking, too, doesn’t she?”

Embarrassingly, a mumbled, indecipherable sound croaks out of you, and your entire body flushes hot with an indignity you happen to relish.

“What was that?” He sounds like sex…like he’s thinking with his throbbing cock - but if your mind’s eye could see straight, you would know better. He is careful and controlled in these moments. Never losing sight of himself, never risking a move too far. “Aw, poor doll is just a dumb little baby, now? Spanked all quiet and wet? I like that, beautiful. I like that very much. No thoughts, right? Shh, no thoughts.”

Again, you manage merely a sound, a murmuring of his name no one but yourself could ever transcribe.

A violent strike buries its way into your covered folds. You jolt and cry out, writhing against his thighs, fighting for more.

You want him inside in any capacity. Fingers, tongue, cock..it matters not, just inside. That’s the only word you seem to know in this moment - inside, inside, inside. But with another sound slap against your cunt, it explodes through your nerve endings like a wire kicking up sparks and skittering against desolate, lonely pavement. You’re climaxing hard and fast, releasing all over the fleece covering his thighs, thrusting against nothing, mourning the heat of his impact though it was there for but a breath.

“Yes!” It wails out of you, warbling and wild…teeth clenched and grinding, body wound so tightly your muscles will protest and complain later.

There will come a time tonight where you’ll long for a way to thank him. For a way to call his name and cradle his face and express your absolute gratitude for this blank slate he molds your mind into…for the way he takes all the ugly and chases it right out of your orbit…

But for now, you fall limp and spent against him. Breathing heavily and deeply. Drawing oxygen way down into your chest that no longer feels so tight. And for now he’ll hear no talk of reciprocation, for now he continues to cater to you with devotion in his touch and a worshipful cast in his gaze as he slips away to draw you a bath.

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @poofyloofy @jakeslovehandles @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @gretasmokerising @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @thelvnternskeeper @paintmyhouse @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @jordie-gvf-admin @calumspretty @sad1lynn @demolitionndann @gvfpal @starcatcher-jake

[cod-imagines-fanfiction]

Jealous Alejandro kidnaps Valeria's girlfriend to be interrogated by the 141 (2k words, part 1)

Summary: Inspired by one of my headcanons for Valeria. Valeria has gifted you a whole wing in her massive residence in Las Almas. Alejandro infiltrates the mansion to gather intel and finds you, Valeria's girlfriend. You are kidnapped by Alejandro and interrogated by the 141 on Valeria and her whereabouts. Got a bit carried away and will make a part 2! Link to fanfic on A03

Notes: Sorry for butchering Mexican Spanish, I Google-translated everything! Also tagging @lesvii in case u wanted to read it! TW: mentions of cheating, toxic Alejandro, threat of violence.

It was another beautiful night for you at the rich luxurious mansion of your girlfriend Valeria Garza, the infamous cartel mogul of Las Almas and Latin America. In the lowest basements of the estate sat enemies, tied on their chairs and ruthlessly interrogated by Valeria's henchmen. Blood stains littered the floor, the moans of these victims muffled by the layers of concrete that stood between them and the world above the surface. And much further above, on a secluded and spoiled part of the estate, you stretched lazily on a golden bathtub filled with hot water and bubbles, feeling the dolphin-shaped taps that winked at you with diamond eyes as you played around with the water. Your bathroom was filled with the scent of lavender and honey and you enjoyed another night of hard-earned relaxation. It wasn't easy being this loved and spoiled, but someone had to do it! Sure, Valeria had a prominently dark side that demanded constant attention, and could be a handful to love. Valeria needed three warm homemade meals every day, love each morning and night and a massage break during her siesta, and you met all of her wishes. In return, Valeria loved you hard and expensively.

Today was an especially tough day because Valeria needed to leave for a business trip.

"It's just three days, okay mi amor? I'll be back before you know it," she fussed over you at her doorstep, one of the few times she'd let you be seen by her henchmen. Ever since you were moved into Valeria's residence, she had scarcely left your side. And now here she was, needing to leave for some kind of business meeting that she refused to elaborate on. You knew it must've been important because you would hear various personnel discuss it carelessly when they thought you weren't listening from your balcony. And it must've been very important if it meant keeping her away from you for days. "But what about morning cuddles?" You sulked and held on to her shirt with the tip of your fingers. It was a bit self-indulgent and dramatic, but you really were going to miss her, and Valeria loved to feel needed anyway, so such pathetic displays were more than welcome. "I'll call you whenever I can, okay? Now give me a kiss."

And that's how you ended up having to amuse yourself for several days.

And that's when Alejandro decided to infiltrate the Las Almas residence.

You were soaking in the warm water, completely oblivious to the fact that your girlfriend's ex-lover was eyeing the residence for a vulnerable entry point. As you lathered your body in oils and creams, he was butchering the guards and dumping their bodies behind the bushes. As you sat on your Queen sized bed ready to rest for the night, he stood behind the door, listening. Alejandro had guessed that this must be Valeria's private area of the mansion because it was significantly nicer than the rest, and that said something. Whereas the rest of the mansion looked like it came from a luxury housekeeping catalogue, this part was more...personal. It had a personal touch to it, a woman's touch. And he knew Valeria had no interest in interior decoration. He passed hallways with floral and sensual pieces of art, past vases with carefully arranged flowers that probably had a deeper significance than he realised. Past a fully stocked kitchen with something freshly cooked on the stove, past a well-used sitting area decorated with pictures of two women smiling at the camera. Jealousy tugged at his heart at these displays of domesticity. He pulled a spy cam cord from his pocket and slid it underneath the door. And there on the bed, amid fluffy cushions and blankets, sat you.

And he remembered exactly who you were.

"Hermano, all good in there?" Soap's voice came through in his earpiece, jolting Alejandro from his revenge fantasy. "Si, be out in five," he whispered and pulled the camera back. It'd be more efficient to knock on the door and wait to take you with chloroform, but he could bet on his life that you were not part of the cartel. This was very much a regular civilian woman, a little trophy wife. And trophy wives can't fight off military personnel. Alejandro rammed through the door and lunged for you before you even had a moment to turn around. Having tucked yourself in your blankets, you had no time to even get up before this strange man put his hands on you.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Strange men with various insignias on their uniforms paced around the residence as you were pushed forward and towards the garden. The man was with Mexican Special Forces, that much you could tell. He laughed darkly and tightened his grip on you. "So, big El Sinobre left you behind, eh? Not so big and scary now, are we?" To your horror and surprise, a helicopter was lowering itself to the ground and shone a bright light on you, like you were a criminal. You wanted to protest that you hadn't actually done anything, but you were guilty by association. Another man leaned out of the helicopter and extended his arm to grab you. "That don't look like cartel to me, brother," a slightly Southern American accent decorated his speech as he grabbed your elbow and chucked you in. The Mexican man followed you along with some others. "She's the next best thing after Valeria, trust me. She'll come running to us in no time."

"Hermano, you sure about this? There are different rules for civilians." Another man spoke, a man with a mohawk and the Union Jack flag on his vest. The helicopter started raising itself off the ground and took off to God knows where. You were in your pyjamas still, feeling silly and vulnerable, too afraid to say anything. Valeria always warned people to stay quiet in front of enemies, and you couldn't be blamed for anything you hadn't said. "I'm positive, Hermano. I know how she works. We take something from her, and she'll come looking." The man sat right across from you, his eyes never leaving you. He was tall and dark, around Valeria's age you'd guess, maybe older. There was a menacing look in his eyes, as though he couldn't stand to look at you, yet his dark eyes never left yours. There was something else lurking underneath that you couldn't put your finger on. It was almost like hatred, though you couldn't understand why he'd hate you personally - you'd never seen him before. And yet he spoke of Valeria with such familiarity...it chilled you.

Next thing you knew, you were in some headquarters. Masses of soldiers marched to and from the facility, taking the time to glance your way as the men brought you to one of the warehouses. Amidst the uniformed men with pounds of kit on themselves, you felt naked. Within the warehouse was a metal container that, to your horror, seemed to be your new resting place. You were thrown on a chair and the container sealed shut after them. "She's being surprisingly cooperative so far," the man with the skull mask grumbled as he leaned back with his arms crossed. "Either that or poor thing doesn't speak English," said the American.

"I can speak English," you whispered and nodded to them, the first thing you said so far. "Perfecto." The American clapped his hands and walked towards you. He lowered himself to your level and brought his face menacingly close to yours, so close you could feel his breath on your cheek. "Now, we can do this the nice way. Or we can do this the army way. What will it be, sweetheart?" He stared you down with his blue eyes and you noticed the scar on his cheek; a clean slice on his combat-hardened face. You swallowed hard. "The nice way." He grinned with satisfaction and raised himself. "That's what I like to hear."

The man who kidnapped you stepped forward, towering over you and not bothering to lower himself like the American. "Where's Valeria?" He spat her name out like poison and your heart sank. "I don't kn-," you'd started saying but stopped when you saw how his eyes darkened. "She doesn't tell me anything. She keeps her business separate from me." "And who exactly are you?" The masked man spoke, his deep voice reverberating within the container. The Mexican man scoffed and paced around mumbling to himself. "This should be good." "Alejandro, please." Another man scolded in a whisper. Alejandro glared at him and shook his head, then looked at you with a deep frown that contorted an otherwise handsome face. His eyes, you realised, were looking at your fingers, one of which wore a thick golden band.

"I'm her partner." You resisted the urge to play with your ring, afraid of making any move in front of them. The American laughed loudly, making you jolt in your seat. "A cartel run by a lesbian, eh? Man, I love my job." "She's not a lesbian," Alejandro snapped quickly. The American stood up taller. "My friend, I think you need to cool off." "¡Anímate y díselo!" He yelled at you. "Alright, now hold on. How do you two know each other?" The American demanded as he pointed to you and Alejandro. "I don't know him," you mumbled and shook your head. "Mierda! You know perfectly well who I am." He exploded again. The man with the mohawk and the other Mexican man looked at you wearily, moving a little bit closer to you in light of Alejandro's outbursts. "I'm sorry, I really don't," you said with a wavering voice. That seemed to really set him off. Alejandro charged at you while swearing. "Vete al infierno hija de puta-"

The two men reached forward and drew him away from you. "Alejandro-" "Calm down, Commander." He shook them off then span around and looked at you again, his firsts curled on the handles of his vest. "Okay, go on. Speak." "I already told you she doesn't tell me anything! She doesn't want me to be involved and she doesn't tell me where she goes. I just take care of the house and that's it. And she'll be mighty pissed when she sees I'm gone." You threw your words at him.

"And now, you," the American pointed at Alejandro. "Valeria served in the Mexican Army, same unit but different squads. Until she betrayed us for the cartel. That's how I know her."

Suddenly, you realised who he was. You'd heard whispers about him amongst Valeria's friends. She would frequently be teased about 'moving camps' and being a heartbreaker. One of them even joked about how you were a homewrecking housewife. Valeria made sure you didn't see those people again. You thought it was all part of a big joke, until now. That part of her past, you guessed, must be him.

The American looked at you and you nodded. "Yes, she did that when we first met. But I don't know anything specific, she didn't tell me." The man who called Alejandro 'commander' looked at you closely and he, too, seemed familiar. He was also part of the Mexican Special Forces and seemed to be paired up with Alejandro. He had large, round brown eyes that were not unkind. He spoke up: "I remember her too. Valeria and she met just a bit before Valeria left the Mexican Army." The American looked at you with disdain after that, and the other man continued. "But she's not lying about not knowing Alejandro. Valeria kept her out of our business." You looked at him with relief and he looked away.

"Well we just pulled a heck of an operation to weed this one out, and we're not leaving until we get some answers," said the American man. "And I don't believe for a second that you're entirely clueless. Now you can either start singing or I'm gonna show you the difference between the military and me."

Notes: Thanks for reading! Link to part 2 :> Link to part 3

[apoptoses]

“What was Christmas like when you were alive?” Daniel asks.

Across the table Armand drags a piping bag down the length of a cookie. He’s been at it for hours now. Or at least that’s how it feels after going to the store, baking the gingerbread. Laying out all the shit Armand had brought to decorate the house- sprinkles and icing and piping bags and piping tips. The table looks like a holiday war zone.

Daniel rests his chin on his hand and lets his eyes wander.

The fingers squeezing the bag are almost as white as the icing within it, and Daniel wonders if that’s what Armand’s hands look like when they’re squeezing his bicep, his throat. If his skin is as malleable as the frosting, yielding into dimples for Armand’s marble-strong fingers. Amazing that he doesn’t burst the bag with his power.

Armand raises his gaze from the table to Daniel’s face. Daniel clears his throat and fumbles for his cigarettes.

“Are you certain that’s what you want to know?” Armand asks.

Daniel rolls his eyes. His ears burn pink. “Why else would I have asked?”

The thoughtful hum Armand makes is more for his reassurance than anything. A little sound of acknowledgement that normally would be inaudible to the mortal ear made loud so that Daniel is aware he’s thinking; a habit he’d developed not long after Pompeii.

That was three years ago now. Sometimes Daniel thinks he knows just as little about Armand now as he did then. He’s never met someone who lives so thoroughly in the now. Who seems so disinterested in his own past.

Who’s such a miser about letting Daniel help with his craft projects. No touching the cookies, no decorating anything of his own. Just sit back and assist when told. Hungry and bored, Daniel reaches for a gum drop. A foot slams into his shin and he yelps.

“What? You won’t let me help,” Daniel says.

“Because I wish for the result to be a surprise.”

“Then don’t be surprised if I help myself to the supplies,” Daniel insists. “Maybe if you’d answered my question I wouldn’t be eating your stuff.”

Armand gives him a dry look. Daniel pops the gum drop in his mouth.

“I fail to see how the two are related. Anyhow, it was different,” Armand says, and Daniel has to swallow down the ‘obviously’ rising in his throat to keep from starting an argument. “A period centered more around merriment. Christmas of the past had more in common with Roman Saturnalia than it does with the holiday of the modern age.”

“What do you mean?”

“Gifts are the focus now, are they not? Worshipping at the altar of the child and not at that of god. It’s a season of performance and consumption.”

“Mm. Consumption wrapped in the guise of family. Go home for the holidays, if you don’t there must be something pathologically wrong with you.”

Daniel ashes his cigarette. One of Armand’s curls slips out of place, falls across his forehead and into his eyes.

He thinks of his mother. The way she’d sweat and curse over the hot stove. Pearls around her neck, hair in curlers as she rushed to get everything ready before Daniel’s grandparents and uncles and cousins stormed the house. She’d be half drunk before they even got there, off nips of whiskey Daniel now realizes was to take the edge off the pressure she felt to impress everyone.

The windows on the gingerbread house at the Molloy’s had always been built from crooked lines, giving the whole thing the appearance it was liable to fall in on itself. Margaret Molloy would have never tolerated the stack of dirty dishes like they’ve got in the sink. The evidence of her having created anything would have been swept away long before any relatives arrived.

Daniel drags his finger through the powdered sugar that litters the table. He thinks his mom would have a heart attack if she saw the state of their place. The mess Armand has made in his search to try modern traditions.

Armand has never asked if he misses his family. Whether he’d rather be back in Pennsylvania with them than here in New York. If he left now he’d catch the last train. Be there by eleven or twelve. Aunt Linda would probably cry seeing him at the door.

The tip of the piping bag oozes white frosting onto the table when Armand sets it down. He squints at the cookie.

Daniel lifts off his chair, tries to lean across the table and get a look at the front of the gingerbread house. Armand shoos him away.

“Wait. It requires something else.” He picks through the mess of supplies on the table. Icing in all colors, sprinkles, chocolate chips. They’d bought it all and then some. Armand never does anything by halves and Daniel can’t imagine where they’ll keep it all when he’s done. The cabinets are about overflowing as it is. “I’d allow to go, you know. To visit your family.”

Armand says it quiet enough he almost misses it. Daniel’s eyebrows shoot up. He stifles his surprised laugh, choked off noise coming out more like a snort.

“You’d ‘allow me’? Generous of you.”

“Don’t be sarcastic. Family is an ephemeral thing. You have it and then one day, you don’t,” Armand murmurs. “And one evening is- how do you say it? A drop in the bucket for one such as myself.”

“And where would you go if I went?”

Outside the house, probably. Daniel can picture him lingering in the street, watching through the window like in Venice. Even if he can’t see him Daniel’s always been able to feel his presence the way some people say they can feel ghosts. 

Armand shrugs. “I would find something to do, just as I’ve done for centuries now. I’m capable of entertaining myself.”

“Mm.”

Armand’s nails are like glass. Smooth, slick. Just long enough to be sharp at the edges on the nights he doesn’t file them down, and he hasn’t filed them tonight. Daniel can tell by the way he uses them like tweezers to pluck a single sprinkle from the jar.

He could go back and let his mom fuss over his plate, listen to his dad try to make excuses for why his prodigal son spends all of his time far from home, why he doesn’t have a respectable job like his cousin Sean. He could sleep in his childhood bed and feel his mortality in a whole other way. Sit beside the tree his mother never, ever let him help decorate as a child because it had to be just right.

Armand places the sprinkle on the cookie. His fingertip comes away smeared with icing and he stares at it, then reaches across the table and holds it out in front of Daniel’s face.

He doesn’t taste like anything. Vampires don’t secrete bodily oils, and so when Daniel licks his finger clean it reminds him more of licking the plastic spoon his mom used to stir batter with. Smooth and cool and tasteless, except for the sugar that bursts on his tongue.

He wonders if she still has that spoon. If Armand will let him lick frosting from somewhere else when he’s done building- whatever the hell it is.

Armand doesn’t wipe his saliva off when he retracts his hand. Doesn’t comment on Daniel’s wandering thoughts either, or the way his pupils have dilated with them, just stares at his gingerbread house with all the seriousness of an architect. He adjusts a peppermint on the roof then nods.

“There. You may come see it now.”

The legs of Daniel’s chair squeal against the floor. He grinds out his cigarette before he circles the table, comes around to Armand’s side.

The linework on the gingerbread house is unnaturally straight, a carbon copy of the design pictured in the recipe book. Icing drips from the eaves, swirls in graceful arches over the windows and around the door. There’s even a wreath drawn just above the door. And in the powdered sugar snow on the ground stands a figure. A gingerbread man with a sprinkle cigarette dangling from his mouth.

“It’s you.”

Armand’s fangs peek out just above his lower lip when he grins up at him. He’s got powdered sugar on his sweater, in his curls. Daniel rolls his eyes. He rests his hand on the back of Armand’s chair and leans down to kiss the mischief from his mouth.

There’s people who miss him just a hundred miles away. A house so tidy you could eat off the floor, probably even a present under the tree for him on the off chance he comes back. Hell, they could go together. He could introduce Armand as a friend from the city with no family to go home to of his own. It wouldn’t even be a lie.

But Daniel’s got a crooked tree here that they’d decorated together with the mess of ornaments Armand bought at Saks. A sink filled with dishes and enough cookies to last him until Easter at least. And Armand-

Armand’s fingers curl around the back of his neck, pressing little valleys into his flesh with their strength, holding him there as his tongue slips into Daniel’s mouth. Licks some of the sweetness from it and leaves the hair on Daniel’s arms standing on end. Daniel angles his head to the side, opens his mouth a bit more. Kisses a little harder and feels the scrape of fangs on his lip like a threat. Or maybe a promise. Daniel’s too dizzy to know. His hand is busy working its way into Armand’s hair, as though he could actually tug him out of his chair and into the living room. He’ll crawl into his lap right here in the kitchen if he has to.

Then quick as it began it ends. Armand breaks away and pushes Daniel back toward his chair.

“There are more gingerbread people on the tray. You may make one of me to add to our house,” Armand says.

Daniel snorts but it comes out all wrong, like the huff of air someone lets out when they’ve been stabbed. His hands tremble as he picks up the piping bag. One kiss and Armand’s got him this fucked up. “I ‘may’ make one, like it’s a choice and not an order.”

“Yes. And then should it pass my inspection you may help me find something to do with the icing that’s unused.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

Armand dusts the powdered sugar from his sweater. He shakes his hair back into place. The lights of the Christmas tree reflect off his auburn curls, make them glow all colors on the one side of his head, and when he looks at Daniel through his lashes Daniel’s heart races. His lips are parted just enough his fangs peek out from behind them, sharp and white.

“Then I suppose I should have to find some other form of consumption to indulge in. After all, that’s what the holiday is about now, isn’t it?”

It’s a shitty pun. But it makes Daniel’s blood pump hot beneath his skin anyways.

There’s a brick house with a wreath on the door that says ‘Molloy Family’ two states over. The train would only take a couple hours to get there. Here in New York Daniel’s got a piping bag in his hand and Armand sitting across the table swinging his feet like a child. His lips are still stinging-aching-tingling from the kiss. His blood races with the promise of more to come.

“Yeah. I guess it is.”

Armand nods. He rests his chin on his hand and it makes him look so innocent. Thoughtful in a way that's disarming. “Now tell me about Christmas when you were a child, Daniel.”

Daniel takes a deep breath. He drags a crooked line of ricing down the cookie and tries to think back. “Well, what do you want to know?”

[find all my other fics here]

[mari-the-bimbo]

hi! can you write something about dorm mate!geto arguing with reader but then they would apologize (idk whose fault it was) please 🙏

A/N: Thanks for the idea bby!! Plot twist: they don’t apologise, you know I love miscommunication tropes right? 😋

Dorm mate Geto: Just friends

It’s Friday night and you find yourself at one of Gojo party friends’ party again. It’s kind of a tradition. You, Gojo and Geto heading out for a party so get that much needed social time in your busy lives. You don’t join them all the time, but when you do, you feel good.

You and Shoko laugh at the drunk Utahime who was having the time of her life. You enjoyed watching your usually uptight friend letting herself go once in a while.

But when she started loudly explaining why Gojo was unfuckable, you and Shoko decided maybe it was time to leave the party.

“Come on Princess” Shoko says sarcastically to Utahime, while you help bring the drunk girl to her feet. “Let’s get you home. Hey y/n, you need a ride home babe?” Shoko asks, swirling the car keys around her finger.

“Nah I’m good thanks Shoko” you say with a smile. “I’ll see if Geto’s ready to go” you add, knowing Gojo was probably hooking up with someone right now.

“Cool. See you later chick” Shoko says and you wave goodbye to them before walking back to find Geto. You check your phone, 00:31 it reads. Past midnight, okay time to leave a party right?

You squint, looking to find the black long haired man, but when you finally spotted him, you wished you didn’t.

Your handsome dorm mate sat on a sofa, with some pretty girl wrapping her slender arms around his broad shoulders. He whispers something in her ear with his signature lazy smirk, the girl laughs brightly. No doubt Geto said a dry but flirty joke, something you thought was reserved only for you.

You think you feel a bit sick. Heartbroken was what you actually felt. He hasn’t seen you yet, you hope it stays that way. You hope he didn’t see you foolishly waiting on him, while he got cosy with some other girl.

Was it always like this? Did he always get cosy with other girls but your delusions made you think it was only you? How silly. What you once thought was a sweet blooming romance between you and a dear friend was nothing more than a minor situationship to him.

You turn your heel and speed out the house before you could embarrass yourself anymore.

1:01 AM

You swirl your ramen absentmindedly in the pot, hoping the warm noodles will fill the emptiness you feel in your stomach.

Suddenly you hear the door open and shut. You didn’t dare look up, there’s so much to stay but you choose to stay silent, hoping Geto won’t notice you in the dim lighting in his drunk state.

But that never works.

“You hungry doll?” Geto chuckles as he spots you. You don’t answer, scared your voice will crack.

“Well how about I help out and make you some hot cocoa yeah?” He says, with a smile that feels fake to you now.

“No. I don’t want a drink” you say abruptly, you cringe internally, knowing how rude you sounded, but you can’t help but feel resentful.

Geto stops in his tracks, slowly turning towards you, long hair strands framing his face.

“You okay hun?”

You wince, ‘hun’ was the last thing you needed to be called by the man who just broke your heart.

You silently just stare at your ramen, trying to play it cool, be the chill girl who doesn’t really care, but you already messed up. You were a born a person who cared too much.

“You shouldn’t call me that.”

“What? Why?” He says, an unimpressed frown on his handsome face. You stare silently at your ramen again.

You sigh when Geto pushes in front of you and turns off the stove so that he can have your attention.

“Look at me and tell me what’s wrong” he says.

You cross your arms almost in defence, disobeying him by staring out the window instead. “What am I to you Geto?”

“My favourite girl, of course” he answered softly in a heartbeat, taking a step closer to you, but you move backwards.

You shake your head. “No” you say, “that’s not what I am. What is our relationship? Are we friends or more?”

The room falls silent.

You sigh, wishing you never asked and hurt your own feelings. The silence answered your question. Friends.

“If we are friends, then we should put some distance between us” you say bravely.

You look up at Geto, to find the usually composed, chill guy look shattered. Black eyebrows furrowed, mouth slightly open. You’ve never seen Geto look off guard, you almost feel bad.

“Oi… what do you mean by that?” You can hear the anger bubbling through his throat, he’s trying his best to stay calm.

“I mean stop flirting and touching me Geto, do that with the girls you’re romantically interested in” you assert your stance, slightly raising your voice to your own surprise.

“Thats-“ Geto starts but he doesn’t finish his sentence.

He pauses before starting, now stepping away from you.

“I’m.. sorry I caused any inconvenience for you. I won’t do it again.” He says formally, putting his hands in his pockets and walking out the small dorm kitchen. Black hair stands dangling in front of his face as he keeps his head down.

Leaving you alone with your broken heart again.

[yuna542]

[1]

>Bad Idea<

Pairing: Hong Woojin x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Enemies with benefits to Lovers

Warnings: 18+, under 18 DNI!, Fem!reader, Suggestive Themes, Swearing, pet names, jealousy, ANGST, blood, sexual assault, violence, mentions of sex, alcohol

Word Count: 9.1k

Note: Here we go. Wanted to write an Oneshot. It escalated and it became a Story with 4 Parts. Hope you like it and you are also obsessed over the show! It’s amazing!

Summary: As Gunwoos little sister he wanted you to finally meet his best friend. Unfortunately you don't get along. He gets on your nerves, you fight all the time and yet you can’t stop messing with each other. One evening you get into a dangerous situation and end up bruised and bloody at his apartment. And you suddenly have to ask yourself: Why do you feel so attracted to that idiot?

"What do you want me to say?" you breathed, struggling to keep your voice steady.

"What you feel," he replied, anger reflected in his eyes as well. He hated that he felt that way. That you had done this to him.

"I can't stand you," you replied, and every word hurt like someone was pressing red-hot iron against your skin. Maybe if you denied it, the feeling would go away on its own.

He came even closer, sparkling at you with mesmerising eyes.

"You don't mean that."

"You don't know what i mean. It's okay. Just leave! If I never see your face again, I'll be happy," you shot back at him, something inside you breaking more with each word. "I wish i never-" but he interrupted you by grabbing your hand.

"Don't say something you don't mean. Don't you dare," he growled.

Chapter 1:

The Idiot

„Gunwoo! Come on! Hurry up!", you shouted through your apartment, leaning on the doorframe, ready to leave.

Now your brother had already talked you into coming to a boxing match that wasn't his own, and now he was making you wait. You heard the rumble in his room and he was probably gathering his things in a panic so that you wouldn't change your mind at the last minute.

Beside the hustle you heard his cell phone ringing behind the door and he answered in a rush:

"Yeah... Yes we're on our way... See you soon."

Then he finally opened the door and ran into the kitchen to plant a kiss on your mom's cheek.

"We're off, Mom."

The woman with the same kind eyes as you and your brother turned from the stove and raised her finger.

"Just watch your little sister for me!"

You sighed loudly as your brother gave you a doubtful look and eyed you. You raised your eyebrows, as you would probably always be the little girl to your mother.

"I'm sure she can do that very well on her own," he said with a gentle smile and you snorted in amusement. But you were grateful that he didn't put you down.

Even though you were way shorter and narrower than your brother, most people had more respect for you. Or they were quickly intimidated. Unlike your reserved, polite brother, you stood out because of your confidence and cheeky manner.

If you didn't have the same eyes and handsome face, nobody would have guessed that the quiet muscleman and the little hothead were siblings.

"Come on now! Otherwise we'll be late!"

Gunwoo shoved his cell phone into his pocket and you waved goodbye to your mother as you disappeared through the door. As you walked down the stairwell, you could see your brother smiling conspiratorially.

"I thought you weren't interested in the boxing match."

"I am interested in your boxing matches. You're making me watch your friend's, aren't you?" you retorted, skipping the last two flights of stairs as you had always done.

Originally, years ago Gunwoo had told you that there was a monster lurking under the last staircase that would grab your ankles and pull you down into the basement if you weren't careful. When you were six you just stuck your tongue out at your brother who was four years older than you and called him a fool, but even today you skipped over them out of habit.

As soon as you stepped out into the fresh air, you took a deep breath. It was a summery day and the birds were chirping. Sitting in a stuffy hall all day, enveloped in the smell of sweat and blood had not been your plan.

"I just want you to finally meet Woojin! He's my best friend and a great boxer."

"Mhh," you replied, remembering the day a few months ago when Gunwoo had come home late from a fight and told you that he had been out to dinner with his opponent all evening.

You used to be his best friend. You shared everything, were always together and you even helped him train for his dream. But since this Woojin showed up, your brother only hung out with him and therefore you had little interest in getting to know him. It would be an understatement to say that you already disliked him without even knowing him.

"This is going to be great. Woojin has been training for today for a long time. I'm sure he'll rock it. And I'm sure you guys will get along great. You guys are actually very similar."

"Oh yeah?" you asked suspiciously, and Gunwoo just smiled knowingly.

-

"Watch it! Idiot," you hissed as you picked yourself up off the ground and rubbed your aching neck. The idiot who had just knocked you over was staring at you with wide eyes, completely frozen.

He had run around the corner unannounced and hit you full on. Not only was he quite a bit taller than you, but he was also broadly built and his chest, against which you had crashed, felt exactly like a wall.

Slowly he seemed to come back to reality and ran a hand through his curly mane, allowing you to see his earrings.

"Man shit! I'm really sorry about that. I didn't see you..."

"What you don't say..."

The amazed man held out his hand to help you stand up, but you ignored it. Irritated, you stood up on your own and patted your skirt while the curly-head still held out his hand.

"I was in a hurry and I just overlooked you. You're so small and light... Shit you really flew really far", he said almost enthusiastically and you scrunched your nose indignantly.

"Well, open your eyes next time, douche bag!" you snapped at him and he stared at you in surprise. He hadn't expected such a sharp tongue from such a pretty girl.

Then, fortunately, you spotted your brother at the other end of the hall, looking out for you with two bottles of Coke in his hands.

The one with the curls was now eyeing you more closely, and he was speechless as soon as you looked at him out of those shimmering eyes.

"Are you watching the boxing match?" he asked, putting on a confident smile.

"No... I just hang out here a lot. It's all full of testosterone-fueled machos and the air is so nice and stale around here."

Now there was silence again and you could clearly see in his face how he was weighing whether it was sarcasm or the truth.

"Really?" asked the rascal now and you just shook your head with a snort.

"You're really not very smart, are you?"

Maybe you weren't particularly nice, but he was getting on your nerves big time, with his handsome face that was sure to drive any other girl out of her mind.

He leaned down toward you with his hands in his pockets and grinned mischievously.

"You're quite bitchy, dollface."

"Fuck you!" you hissed at his provocation and stormed past him.

"I knew it was a mistake to come here," you muttered as you passed, not giving the macho another glance.

Instead, you disappeared among the people and joined your brother, who had gotten you into this whole mess in the first place.

"Where have you been?" he asked, handing you the Coke he'd gotten you. You brushed a strand of hair out of your face and together you stood at the entrance for the bleachers.

"Some idiot knocked me over."

"Oh. Are you okay?"

You nodded with raised eyebrows and leaned against his muscular shoulder.

"Yes ‚Oh'... I‘m fine.“

You hadn't been a fan of the idea of coming along to a boxing match from the beginning, but you had been to every one of Gunwoos fights and he had begged you to come along to his friend's fight until you had said yes.

Well, he had also bribed you with pizza and sushi, but in the end you said yes anyway. He was a boxer himself, so you already knew a lot about the sport. Most guys who boxed at your age were pumped-up, arrogant machos who had nothing but their sport on their minds. That's exactly what the idiot had just proven to you one more time.

"Trust me this is going to be really good today!"

"Let's see. If I don't get squished first."

The first rounds were indeed exciting, and you had to admit that you were soon eagerly following the fight and cheering along. But when the next fighters were announced, you froze in your seat.

The next up-and-coming boxer was announced as Hong Woojin, and Gunwoo applauded beside you as he entered the ring. As soon as the realization hit you, you gasped out loud.

This couldn't be true. As soon as you recognized the curly-haired man, you laughed in disbelief.

"That's him! That's my friend Woojin. He's unbeatable in his class!" your brother began to tell you excitedly, and you could only watch the muscular young man prance across the ring, provoking his opponent even before the fight began.

"That's the guy who knocked me down!" you said then and the start of the fight sounded simultaneously with the incredulous „What?", of your brother.

You had to bite your tongue as you watched the fight. Sweat glistened all over his toned body and with every punch, every tense, his defined muscles looked even more delicious. Gunwoo had been right. He was damn good at boxing and after an exciting exchange of punches, he won with ease.

His movements were fast and precise. Like a bee that stung when you didn't expect it.

Together you waited for him outside the locker room and when he came through the door and discovered your brother, his eyes shone with pure joy.

They fell into each other's arms, laughing, and Gunwoo patted him congratulatory on the shoulders.

It was almost cute how they jumped around clutching each other tightly and were happy like dogs who were allowed to play together in the park.

When they were done with their greeting, you cleared your throat loudly so they finally paid attention to you.

"Oh. Yeah. That's my sister, by the way. Y/N. This is Woojin," Gunwoo eagerly introduced you. Woojin stared at you wide-eyed as he recognized you, and you just pressed your lips together into a line.

"Hey."

You raised your hand and waved shortly at him.

"It's you?" he asked, perplexed, and you rolled your eyes at his disgusted expression.

"Believe me, I imagined it differently too," you said, walking ahead.

Over the next few weeks, you got to know each other better and, more importantly, you hated each other. Woojin was annoying and a pain in the ass. When you went out to eat together, you argued most of the time until Gunwoo intervened.

He teased you incessantly and enjoyed it when you glared at him angrily. It was a gift of his that within no time he knew exactly how to make you mad.

Nevertheless, you often went out together and did things as a trio, because despite your quarrels, you had one essential thing in common. Your love for Gunwoo. You had to admit that Woojin was a great friend to him and they got the best out of each other.

As much as your brother wanted you two to get along, that was probably never going to happen.

It was a few weeks later and you came up to the roof to check on the boys and let them know that dinner was almost ready.

They were working out again.

At the sight of Woojins muscle-bound torso, you swallowed hard. They lifted weights and spurred each other on until they spotted you.

Woojins gaze traveled up and down your body, lingering for quite a while on your cleavage, set off by the new dress you had just put on.

"Hey your sister is here!" he said and your brother put the weight down to look at you.

You walked over to them, trying to ignore Woojins intense stares. Maybe you should have changed your clothes. He always made fun of you, when you were wearing something more revealing so he could unsettle you. It was only a matter of time till he would make fun of you.

"Mom says dinner is almost ready."

Gunwoo nodded and grabbed one of the towels hanging over the back of the chair next to you, wiping the sweat from his forehead and chest.

Inconspicuously, you kept glancing at Woojin as he took the water bottle, his muscles pumped and tense from the workout and his hair stuck to his forehead.

It was outrageous how good he looked.

He pointed to the other towel.

"Dollface be so kind and give me that!" he said with a grin. He had given you that nickname at the very beginning and you didn't know exactly why, but you got heart palpitations every time he called you that.

Annoyed, you took the towel and threw it harder than necessary into his face.

"You're welcome," you purred provocatively, crossing your arms.

"Is that dress new?" asked Geunwoo, looking less than enthusiastic.

"Yes. Don't you like it?" you asked, looking down at yourself. It was a burgundy dress that was tight and came down to your thighs.

"Yes it does, you look good. It's just a little short, isn't it?" he said, protective brother coming through once again.

Woojin ran the towel over his abs and came closer until he was standing in front of you, eyeing you closely.

"I think it's cute. How did you know red was my favorite color?" he teased and you just rolled your eyes.

"Don't get your hopes up Woojin. Even if you were the last person on this earth, I wouldn't let you touch me."

"Ouch and I thought you were wearing those sexy outfits just for me."

Playfully shocked, he grabbed his chest and you wanted to wipe that annoying grin off his face.

"You should go take a shower... You stink," you shot back and turned around to disappear back into the house. That was a lie. In fact, he always smelled so good that you automatically wanted to move closer when he sat next to you. Even when he was sweating, he smelled seductively tart and masculine, which didn't help you loathe him.

"Is she on her period or why is she so sensitive?" he asked extra loudly so you could still hear.

In response, you just raised your middle finger and slammed the door behind you.

Another time, you wanted to watch a movie, but the argument over the remote control got so out of hand that Gunwoo had to pull you apart by force.

Woojin ended up with big scratches across his chest and you were missing a tuft of hair.

Sighing, Gunwoo had come between you and you sulked at each other for a week until your brother persuaded Woojin to apologize to you.

Secretly, you were grateful that the argument was finally over, so you invited them both to the cinema.

When you got the tickets and Woojin saw that it was the movie he'd been talking about for weeks, he'd just looked at you completely dumbfounded.

"I thought you hated horror movies, I have the taste of a preschooler and this was just another cheap copy..." he had whispered to you in the movie theatre and quoted your exact words from a few days ago.

You had just shrugged your shoulders.

"Maybe I've changed my mind."

Then the curtain went up and he had no chance to question you further.

Actually, you still hated horror movies and you wouldn't like this one either. But this was your way of apologizing without losing your pride.

When Woojin held out his bucket of popcorn to you without comment, you smiled in the darkness and took a handful.

That's how it continued to go. You didn't become best friends, yet you were constantly seen together. It had also become normal to go not only to Gunwoo's fights, but also to Woojin's. Especially when Gunwoo didn't have time because he had to help mom at the café, you would go to the fights alone.

When Woojin's eyes wandered through the crowd and he met yours, the corners of his mouth would automatically twitch upwards, as if he knew you would be there.

Even if it was just to laugh at him after a defeat or to poke him in the side on the way home when he got painful bruises. There was absolutely no middle ground with you both, constantly at each other throats, ready to pounce.

-

Chapter 2

The Party

It was a Saturday night when you were getting ready for a party. Half the town was invited and it was going to be a big event.

You checked your appearance in the mirror one last time and pulled your hair into place. You had half of it up and the rest fell in shimmering waves over your shoulders.

The dress was perhaps a bit daring with the emphasised cleavage and it was tight around your waist.

It artfully brought out your every curve and with the high boots and red lipstick, the black minidress looked much more expensive than it had been.

Glancing at your phone, you ran out of the bathroom and bounced right into something big and hard. Cursing, you staggered back, but two strong hands were already at your waist holding you down.

"I hate it when you do that..." you grumbled, looking up at Woojin through your thick eyelashes.

He was about to say something mean, you could tell by the glint in his eyes, but it got stuck in his throat.

Your eyes shone like diamonds, rimmed with eyeliner, that made you look like an attentive cat, and as his gaze traveled down your body, his mouth stood open as if he couldn't believe what stood before him.

He knew you as his best friend's annoying little sister, usually in sweatpants and comfy clothes when he was around, but right now you were a goddess whose presence he couldn't escape.

"Hello? Woojin?? Earth to Idiot?" you asked, waving both hands in front of his face when he didn't respond and also didn't let go of your hips.

Slowly, that brought him back to the here and now, and he looked into your eyes, caught, as if you'd saw him stealing cookies.

"Uh yeah? What did you say?" he asked and you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

What was wrong with him? You really had never seen him speechless before.

"I asked if you didn't have your own home?“

Gradually the teasing grin returned and he pinched your side lightly as his hands were still tightly closed around your waist. Your skin tingled strangely at the spot and even though your mind was literally screaming at you, you couldn't put any distance between you.

"What's the point when it's so much nicer at your place?"

You tilted your head a little and eyed him briefly. Surprised, you realized he wasn't dressed as casually as usual. He was wearing jeans, albeit ripped, and a dark red buttoned up shirt that sat tight against his biceps and chest. Slowly you realized what was going on here and you shook your head slightly.

Woojin just grinned wider as he saw the panic rise in your eyes.

"No. Oh no! No! GUNWOO!" you shouted almost hysterically and that's when he burst out of his bedroom door while still buttoning the last buttons of his blue shirt.

"What's the matter? What happened?" he asked, confused, looking back and forth between you.

Briefly, his gaze lingered on Woojins hands, which were still on your hips, whereupon he quickly took them away and clasped them in his neck.

"You're not coming to the same party! He just wants to embarrass me in front of my friends" you shouted, and Gunwoo put a hand on your shoulder reassuringly, but Woojin beat him to it:

"In fact, I've been invited, and Gunwoo is my companion."

Angrily, you glared at him and groaned in annoyance.

"You look gorgeous, by the way, dollface," he said, winking at you charmingly. You searched for sarcasm in his tone, but you didn't find it. Overwhelmed, you just stared at him and then walked away.

Your cheeks glowed and your hands cramped, forcing you to take a deep breath.

At the party, you immediately mingled with your friends and began to booze one drink after another. Bodies moved ungracefully around you, shimmying and shoving through to the living room or to the terrace at the back yard where people were throwing each other into the large pool. All these strange feelings were so confusing that you just wanted to drown them in alcohol. It was around midnight when you first saw your brother and Woojin again.

The older one was bringing a drink to a girl with long black hair and a pretty face. Next to her, Gunwoo was talking to her friend, and even though the alcohol was already clouding your vision, it was obvious that she was head over heels in love with the curly-haired boxer.

Directly something stung in your chest as he laughed at something she said and nudged her.

His hair shone like chocolate in the light and fell messily into his forehead. As the world spun around you and your friend's conversation slowly faded into the background, you stared at his hands for a while. The veins and pronounced knuckles had long fascinated you and you had rarely seen anything more attractive.

But when he put an arm around the girl, something similar to a growl crossed your lips.

You broke away from the circle with your friends without saying a word, and the plastic cup with the Coke-Vodka mixture in your hand crackled dangerously due to the way your fingers tightened around it.

You didn't know why or where this anger came from, but the alcohol prevented even a clear thought from breaking through the thick fog of rage.

As soon as you reached her, you changed your angle and stumbled into the girl with a really convincing startled "Oh". As you did so, you aimed accurately and the entire contents of your drink landed in the girl's face and on her light blue dress.

Shocked, she stumbled back a few steps and Woojin jumped to the side in time to avoid getting hit. With her mouth open, she wiped the burning alcohol from her eyes and you watched with satisfaction as the stain on her dress spread and her makeup ran as if a bucket of water had been poured on an oilpainting.

But from the outside you had a completely surprised expression on your face and held both hands in front of your mouth, to feign concern with your most convincing voice:

"Oh no! I'm so sorry about that! I shouldn't have drunk so much."

Stunned, the girl stared at you and you could see Woojin convulsively stifle a laugh at the angry expression on her face.

"Shit! What the hell!" she screeched at you, stomping like a little kid as she realized the extent of the disaster on her dress.

Gunwoo and the other girl watched silently, seeming to want to help but not daring to.

Woojin on the other hand, only looked at you. When your eyes met, he glared at you questioningly and he could have bet that the corners of your mouth twitched up in satisfaction for a moment.

Before you could fake a guilty conscience any further, she raced past you and disappeared somewhere in the direction of the bathroom.

Her friend ran right after her, and that's when Gunwoo turned to you and pulled you aside by the arm.

"What was that about?" he whispered as anyone around would care.

Of course he knew you did it on purpose. You couldn't hide anything from him. He knew you too well. Woojin crossed his arms and still said nothing. They both knew how much you could drink. You even drank Woojin under the table.

You just shrugged your shoulders unconcernedly and returned your brother's intense glare.

Yes, what was that all about? You had no answer to that. You were simply disturbed by the way the pretty girl looked at Woojin.

"It was an accident," you said unconvincingly, and now the amused smile came through after all.

"Don't bullshit me!" said Woojin and of course he had seen through your charade too.

But he couldn't even guess why you had done that. Maybe he thought you were crazier than he already supposed.

Astonished, he tried to read any answer from your facial features, but you were just as unreadable as usual. He never knew what was going on in your head and that made him curious.

You turned to him and leaned forward until your face hovered close to his.

"Oh. Did I mess up your one-night stand? I'm so sorry about that."

You smiled sweetly, your voice dripping with sarcasm. Woojin opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Instead, his gaze wandered aimlessly across your face.

Your noses were almost touching and the alcohol was messing up his mind. Your body in the dress was already hard to resist and he had been trying not to look in your direction all evening, even though he was almost addicted to the way you shifted your weight to the other foot, the way your curves endlessly flared under the thin fabric. If you weren’t so annoying…

Why had he never noticed how beautiful your nose was? How artistically your eyebrows were curved and how full your pink lips were?

Did they feel as soft as they looked?

"Now I guess you'll have to fill in for her. It would only be fair..." he murmured, narrowing his eyes.

You froze as his intense gaze drove heat into your cheeks. His eyes were fixed on your lips and you wanted to reply something provocative, but the amber around the black of his eyes shone so beautifully that you unconsciously bit your lower lip.

Of course, he was just teasing you, but something about his tone made you feel embarrassed.

Your fingers twitched and you fought the urge to brush the strand of hair from his forehead. You caught yourself, inches away from your face. You saw him, looking down at your lips, causing you to gulp loudly. You wanted to lean in, push away all the doubt you had in your mind, and follow your stupid heart.

It was only seconds, but the moment seemed to captivate you for an eternity. The music and the people around you only seemed like background noise by now.

"No way would I sleep with you!" you finally replied, but why did the words feel so heavy on your tongue?

Like when you claimed, chattering your teeth in front of Gunwoo, that you weren't cold, even though he had told you a hundred times to bring a jacket.

He tilted his head a bit and just smiled in amusement until Gunwoo put a hand on his shoulder and called out to fight the loud music:

"I'm going home! Mom called. She needs help. Some pipe at the sink broke. Are you coming too?"

Woojin seemed snapped out of a trance, and you both looked in different directions so quickly, as if you could use it to undo the strange moment.

"Uh yeah. Yes I'll be right there."

Then your brother turned to you.

"Are you coming?"

Briefly you were tempted to agree, but your stupid heart only raced when you looked at Woojin. Whatever was wrong with you, you desperately needed to do something about it. It was disgusting.

"No. I'll stay for a while."

Gunwoo was going to protest, and he'd throw you over his shoulder if he had to, which is why you quickly disappeared between people until he lost sight of you.

Your head squeezed uncomfortably and you clutched your chest in which your heart just wouldn't calm down. Like a wild bird fluttering incessantly in its cage. You grabbed another cup and rushed out of the living room, the atmosphere suffocating you. You needed another drink, a cigarette, and some alone time.

Actually, you didn't smoke. You hated the taste and the smell of smoke. But Woojin hated it even more and that was reason enough to put the cigarette between your lips and take a deep push.

But on the second puff, you coughed in disgust and threw the cigarette into the trash can.

Confused, you ran into the bathroom on the second floor. There was less going on and in front of the large mirror you first took a deep breath and looked at your reflection.

Your cheeks were pink, but otherwise you looked like before.

Then why did it feel like the world had turned around you?

Woojin's eyes and that annoying grin just wouldn't leave your thoughts. Annoyed with yourself, you dabbed some water on your forehead and chest, perhaps to lessen the effect of the alcohol.

Because that had to be the reason. You had simply drunk too much.

After you were reasonably calm again, you mingled with the people. Your brother and Woojin were fortunately nowhere to be seen. They were probably long gone.

You found your friends again and the conversations distracted you a little from the chaos in your head.

"You look stunning," said a guy about your age as you stood at the bar getting another drink.

"Thanks," you smiled lightly and with a quick glance you had to admit, he was really good looking. He was tall, well built and had a striking face. You struck up a conversation and he was actually funny as well. Actually he seemed to be kind and smart. Also the complete opposite of Woojin.

"Do you want to dance?" he asked after a while.

"Sure."

He led you by the hand to the dance floor and you moved to the music, laughing and goofing around a bit. However, a strange feeling crawled up the back of your neck. Like someone was watching you.

You glanced over your shoulder a few times, but in the middle of the party, among the tightly dancing couples, drunken teenagers, and loud music, you couldn't make out anyone.

The alcohol quickly made the moments flow into each other and you lost track of time. You finally found yourself in a dark corner, the guy whose name you had already forgotten, had his hands firmly on your hips, pressed you against the wall and spread hungry kisses on your neck. You closed your eyes and really tried to concentrate on the moment.

It wasn't the first time you made out with someone at a party and this time he was even friendly, charming and good looking. You rarely got that lucky and it was a welcome distraction.

You just didn't want to think about Woojin anymore.

But as soon as his fingers ran over your sides and his lips brushed your skin, you imagined how the idiot would touch you.

Would he be gentle and cautious, or dominant and rough?

A gasp escaped you as the guy cupped your breast with a hand and somehow sounded suspiciously like Woojin in your head, and when you opened your eyes and stopped seeing the boxer's broad shoulders in front of you like moments before in your imagination, your heart stopped for a moment.

What had you just been thinking about?

Panicking, you pushed the guy away from you, who looked at you in confusion.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked, and you just shook your head. The lump in your throat was getting bigger and bigger and you feared choking on it if you didn't get out of this place soon.

"What's wrong?" he continued to ask as you picked up your purse and pulled out your cell phone.

'I just imagined you were my brother's best friend, who I actually hate, and kind of liked the idea.'

Instead you said:

"Nothing. Everything's fine. But I really have to go home now," you assured him, patting him clumsily on the shoulder as a goodbye, not knowing what to do in such a situation.

He was completely flabbergasted and looked after you as you hurried down the stairs and left the party in a complete rush.

Only when you had passed the large estate a few streets behind you, you dared to breathe a sigh of relief. The fresh night-air blew your hair out of your face and it smelled like wet asphalt and leaves. The streetlight illuminated the side streets just enough so you could still read the street names on the signs.

While you were trying to call a cab on your cell phone, you realized what kind of neighborhood you had landed in. It looked like an industrial park and there was no one on the street. You started to feel uncomfortable and when you thought you heard footsteps behind you, you ran faster.

Cursing, you tried several cab companies, but none answered. The line was busy and the constant beeping seemed to mock you. You winced when the sound was behind you again. You definitely hadn't imagined it.

Your heart was already pounding in your ears and just as you tapped Gunwoo's number, your wrist was jerked back hard and the next thing you felt was a blow on your temple.

Then everything went black.

The next time you opened your eyes you were already being dragged into a dark alley. Your vision was blurry and your head throbbed painfully, but you could make out at least three black figures.

Only when your back hit a cold stone wall did your sanity seem to return.

"Well, what have we here?" you heard the tallest of them say. His raspy voice vibrated in your ears and when you recognized the three black-clad and masked men, fear ate so deeply into your chest that your eyes instantly filled with tears.

You wanted to scream for help, but before a sound could pass your lips, a hand was pressed over your mouth and you were slammed hard against the wall. Painfully you groaned and stared at your attacker with wide eyes.

"Such a pretty thing, out so late, all alone?" he asked, and there was nothing but coldness in his eyes.

The other hand was firmly on your hip and you thought you would faint from fear, but with your last willpower you stubbornly returned his gaze and tried not to let your despair show.

The other two thugs were standing menacingly behind him. One had a baseball bat in his hand, the other had brass knuckles on both fists. You felt like you were trapped in a bad movie and wanted nothing more than to just wake up. You could see your cell phone lying on the ground behind them. The screen still glowing and Gunwoo just one call away. It had to have fallen out of your hand when he hit you.

"Listen, if I take my hand away now, you're going to be nice and quiet and not cause any problems, otherwise I'm going to have to be rude, understand?"

He talked to you like you were a little kid and you pressed your hands against your thighs to keep them from shaking.

You nodded and your heart drummed so wildly you feared dying of a heart attack.

"Good girl..." he purred, slowly removing his hand from your mouth.

Instead of screaming, you clenched your teeth hard, jerked your knee up, and caught him right between the legs. Gunwoo had shown you often enough what to do when you were attacked.

Never by three armed men, though.

At that time you had only laughed and said:

"What could happen to me? I have you. You always protect me."

Everything happened so fast that you could hardly take a breath. Fortunately, you had hit it dead on.

Groaning in pain, he slumped forward and you lashed out, hitting him in the nose with your fist, just as you had seen many times with Woojin and Gunwoo in the ring. Taking advantage of the moment of chaos, you wriggled out of his grasp and ran towards the street, the adrenaline rushing in your ears.

Your breath caught in relief as you almost reached the main road, but you were thrown back hard by your hair. Screeching, you flailed around as rough grips closed around your stomach and yanked you all the way back again.

Desperately you tried to hit something, but most of your blows came to nothing, until you were thrown against the wall again and the anger-distorted face of the gorilla appeared in front of you. You felt something warm run down your temple and you instantly fell silent as his hand closed around your neck and squeezed until you were gasping desperately for air.

"Stupid bitch! Get her purse! Look how much she's got on her!" he ordered his minions, and they ripped the purse from your body.

They quickly found your wallet, took the money inside and threw the rest aside. The one with the baseball bat handed the leader the money and he pocketed it before looking back at you and you fervently hoped they would take the money and leave.

You tugged at his hand, but it remained iron-clad around your throat and you felt your field of vision getting smaller and smaller.

Blood soaked his mask and he had trouble speaking. At least you got him right.

"Shit, she's really tough..." he laughed and tore the mask off his face.

When you saw the cruel face, your heart sank and desperation slowly made your resistance collapse. His eyes wandered lustfully down your body and the grip on your neck loosened a little.

"She looks really hot... I guess we got really lucky today," he said and his minions laughed disgustingly.

"What do you think? We have a little fun and you make up for beating me, huh?" he purred, and the fear took on entirely different proportions.

The tears now flowed freely down your cheeks and you tugged harder on his hand, but he didn't move a millimeter. The other two walked a few steps away and turned their backs on you. Maybe to keep watch, maybe to ease their consciences.

With his other hand he grabbed your hip and pushed your legs apart with his knee. In your mind you prayed to whatever God there was to help you. You felt alone and completely helpless that you were about to give up.

Like in a trance, you only noticed how he tore the dress at your chest and pushed it up your legs. You squinted your eyes, your heart ached and fear gradually made you drift away as soon as you heard his belt buckle open.

"Hey you fucking asshole! Hands off her! Now!"

Your eyelids fluttered at the aggressive shout and before your tormentor could turn around, he was yanked away from you and a fist hit him in the jaw with such force that he staggered back.

As soon as you regained your breath, you gasped and slumped against the wall. Your legs no longer supported you and you could only watch, crouched on the floor, as Woojin stood in front of the gorilla and raised his fists.

"What's the matter? Have you lost your tongue?" he shouted at him and now the others also became attentive and rushed to help their boss. He seemed to notice them only now.

"Shit," he muttered and gave you a curt look. The tears in your eyes and the blood slowly running down your temple were enough to make his anger boil over and something animalistic entered his eyes.

You grabbed your aching throat and couldn't believe he was really here. But the relief was quickly overshadowed by new fear as you saw them circling him, baseball bat at the ready.

Woojin breathed calmly and fixated his attackers intently. As he did so, he gritted his teeth aggressively and his jaw muscles twitched with tension.

"You little bastard. Do you really think you can stand up to us?" the one with brass knuckles asked provocatively and Woojin just laughed bitterly.

"Let's try."

You knew the look from the ring, only this time it was aggressive and angry. There wasn't a glint left of the enthusiasm of sportsmanship flickering in his eyes.

There was only blackness and unbridled hatred there.

With that, the gorilla charged at him, but he dodged with ease. He also dodged the next blows and countered with a series of quick, precise punches, all of them hit forcefully. But already the one with the baseball bat swung out and missed him by a hair's breadth.

Woojin kicked him in the knee, punched the third in the face and fended off more blows from the goon. With a well-aimed kick, he managed to knock the gorilla off his feet, but a startled growl escaped him as the baseball bat hit him hard on the rib.

Woojin staggered back, gasping, took the guard up and cashed in a few more blows with the baseball bat until he found a gap and with a clean blow to the temple took out the attacker.

Quick as a flash, he grabbed the baseball bat and threw it at the goon, who was just getting back up at the same time as the other hit the ground.

With a rattling breath, you looked around for anything you could help with.

Woojin ducked away under a few more punches and seemed more tense. He was in pain and the blows with the baseball bat seemed to have hurt him. One precise blow with the brass knuckles would be enough to knock him out.

The gorilla huffed and grumbled like a bear as he tried to get back to his feet.

That's when you spotted a rope behind a trash can. You quickly grabbed it and crawled on all fours to the giant before he could get up and wrapped it around his neck from behind.

He gurgled for air as you pulled the rope tight and tried with all your might to fight his resistance.

You lay on your back and tugged at the rope with all your body weight until your arms trembled, but the gorilla just didn't weaken.

Like a worm, he writhed on the ground, gasping and trying to get rid of the rope. Glancing at Woojin, you winced violently as a blow hit him hard in the face. His head was thrown back and as soon as you saw the blood on his cheek, it flooded your body with renewed energy.

A tortured cry escaped you and you tugged harder on the rope and finally the resistance weakened.

"You stupid asshole! Go to sleep already!", you pressed out and felt the rope cutting into your palms.

Woojin slowly straightened up and fought against the dazed state with all his might. He lunged again, throwing punches so fast you couldn't even follow them.

Just when your muscles were burning so badly you were afraid you'd have to let go, the huge body went limp and you let go of the rope as if you'd been burned by it.

Woojin dodged away under a hard punch at that moment, knocking the thug off his feet and letting a shower of punches rain down on him until he lay motionless.

Getting on his feet again, he swayed briefly and shook out his wrists before rushing to you and kneeling in front of you.

You wrapped your arms around your exposed body and looked at him with those beautiful eyes that he took your face in his hands and said worriedly:

"Are you hurt? Are you okay?"

His voice rolled over with concern and you put a hand on his reassuringly.

"I'm fine. Thanks to you," you replied, still in a raspy voice. In the pale light of the lantern, you could see the blood running down his cheek and you felt guilty that he had caught so many bruises for you.

"You're bleeding. Those fucking assholes..." he cursed, his voice dripping with anger as he saw the blood on your temple. The concern in his eyes overwhelmed you. There was nothing else for him but you at the moment and as he scanned you for more injuries, he saw your torn dress.

He quickly slipped out of his jacket and put it around your shoulders. You pulled it tightly around your body and deeply sucked in his scent that clung to it and it made you immediately feel safe.

"Come on, let's get out of here. Can you walk?" he asked carefully, putting an arm around your stomach to help you to your feet.

"Yes I can do it," you dismissed it, trying to look strong, but in truth your head was throbbing, it hurt to swallow, and your knees were as soft as jello. Reaching the gorilla, he carefully let go of you and picked up your purse, cell phone and wallet that were scattered around him.

He handed them to you and you watched as he knelt down to him and slapped his face.

"Hello!" he shouted.

"Wake up, asshole!", and slapped him again until he grumbled and slowly regained consciousness. He groaned in pain and writhed on the ground, making a pathetic picture.

Then Woojin straightened up again and put a foot right to his throat so he couldn't move any further. Anyway, the guy's face was so swollen that you could barely make out any structure.

Then Woojin looked to you and asked:

"How much did he steal from you?"

After a moment's thought and a look in your pocket, you answered truthfully:

"About 200.000 won."

He patted it down and pulled his wallet out of his pants pocket where he had put your money earlier. Then he took out the bills, counted them out quietly, and handed you a wad of them while the gorilla watched, panting angrily.

"Then this is yours."

He took out the rest of the bills, which definitely were a total over 500.000 won. Apparently you weren't the first one they had robbed tonight.

Then Woojiin handed you the rest of the money as well.

"And this is for the unpleasant trouble he caused you, isn't it my friend?" he asked emphatically, pressing his foot on the gorilla's throat until he gurgled and nodded with a groan.

"Let's go," you muttered, glancing at the unconscious thugs. All of them were covered in blood. Woojin had really raged and from their injuries you could clearly see his anger like a handwriting. He quickly put an arm around you again to support you and together you walked out of the alley onto the street.

After a few shaky steps, he looked at you worried from the side:

"Are you sure you can walk?"

"Yes everything is fine. Stop worrying, it's annoying!" you drove at him a little too harshly than intended.

He raised his eyebrows and before you could react, he lifted you up bridal style and carried you across the street.

"What are you doing? Woojin what..." you stuttered, but he just smiled softly, which silenced you.

"Where are you taking me?" you asked after a while.

"I don't live far from here. I'll take you to my place."

He expected resistance, but his eyebrows furrowed in surprise when you gave in. You were too exhausted and going to his place really seemed like the best idea. Sighing, you relaxed in his arms for the first time and leaned your head against his chest.

His jacket warmed you and his strong arms made you feel safe and secure. He looked down at you as your eyes fell closed and smiled in relief.

At his front door, you opened your eyes again when he lowered you down. As he unlocked the door, he groaned in pain and held his side with a resigned laugh.

"Shit that guy hit me clean with that bat."

A shaky gasp escaped you. Seeing him hurt like that burdened you more than you thought it would and you wanted to take all the pain from him he was suffering because of you. You silently examined his profile and inevitably tears rose again when you saw the bleeding wound on his cheek.

"Woojin?" you murmured in a brittle voice and he looked at you concerned, afraid that something might be wrong with you. Astonished, he watched you step close to him and gently placing a hand against his cheek.

Your lower lip quivered dangerously and he wanted to say something to make the sad gleam in your eyes disappear. But when he said something, he usually made things worse and he didn't want to risk that right now, when you were so close to him. Your breath bounced against his face and his gaze was magically drawn to your lips.

"I'm so sorry," you breathed and your voice broke on the last word as you brushed a strand of hair from his forehead and a bruise was already forming underneath. The guilt was overwhelming and never would you have thought to care so much for the macho man.

Almost panicked, he shook his head and took your hands in his so you looked at him.

"No. Don't. You have nothing to be sorry for. You didn't do anything wrong. It's all those assholes' fault!" he tried to cheer you up, but you just smiled tiredly.

Feverishly he considered and then grabbed his cheek, wincing slightly as it wound was already burning like hell.

"Oh that? That's nothing! I've gotten worse as a boxer!" he said, knocking his fist against his head.

"That's probably why I'm such a idiot, like you always say."

That actually made you smile and you even laughed slightly. He would have loved to jump in the air with relief, but his aching ribs wouldn't allow it. He squeezed your hands gently and then held the front door to the stairwell open for you.

"Come on. Let's go inside and get something good to eat."

Quickly you nodded and let him lead you to the door of his home. As he let you into his apartment and you looked around the room, you noticed that you had never been here before.

You were always at your place or out on the town.

"Do you live alone?" you asked as you kicked off your shoes and he turned on the lights.

The living room was tranquil and empty except for a small red sofa and a television. The kitchen was right next to it and the sink was stacked with pots, plates, silverware and even pizza boxes. Amused, you brushed a line through the dust at the large window through which the light from the street lamps shone.

"Yes. My father and I don't get along well... Tension flew regularly and so I thought it's better to keep my distance," he said, spreading his arms.

"Welcome to my kingdom. Had I known you were coming, I might have cleaned up," he said and you looked over your shoulder in disbelief.

"You wouldn't have."

He snorted in amusement and pulled the blinds closed.

"Yeah you're probably right."

He gathered up a few clothes that were all over the place and tossed them into a pile that only grew.

Despite the mess, which you wouldn't have expected any other way from Woojin, it smelled incredibly good. It was the scent that clung to him as well and was burned into your head.

Meanwhile, the blood on your temple had dried and began to itch.

Actually, you didn't want to know what you looked like. You probably bore more resemblance to a scarecrow.

"Where's your bathroom? I'd like to take a shower."

He was already standing in the kitchen, throwing a handful of ramen into a pot. At the mere sight of it, your stomach grumbled like crazy.

"Down the hall. The door on the left. Towels should be in the closet," he called as he worked, and you smiled as he threw a kitchen towel over his shoulder.

Before you left, you turned back to him.

"Woojin? Can you please not tell Gunwoo about today? He'll just worry unnecessarily."

Woojin pressed his lips together and looked pained.

"I don't like lying to him."

"I know. I'll tell him. I promise. Just not today okay?"

With that, he seemed satisfied and he nodded.

"All right."

In the bathroom, you slipped out of his jacket and carefully folded it. Your dress, however, was beyond saving. You put the torn rag aside and looked at your body in the mirror.

Dark spots were already forming on your hips and on your neck and you got goosebumps when you thought of the large hands that had grabbed you there. Your makeup was completely smeared and there was a wound on your temple from the first blow.

Sighing, you opened your hair and marveled at all the beauty products lined up outside the shower. He had more conditioner than you did. However, that was the last thing you would complain about.

But you made a little mental note when you needed something again to get on his nerves.

As soon as the warm water hit your skin, you sighed in relief. The blood dyed the ground brown and with the water you also tried to wash away the events of the evening.

Hissing, you looked at your wrist. It was swollen from the pumch you had thrown and your knuckles were cracked.

How did the boys always do it without hurting themselves?

Fresh again and with renewed energy, you stepped out of the shower with only a towel wrapped around your body.

"I feel like a new woman ," you commented as you walked into the kitchen, the smell of fresh ramen making your mouth water.

Woojin looked up from the two bowls he was preparing and when he saw your bare legs under the towel, he gulped first.

"I texted Gunwoo that you were drunk as fuck and now snoring on my couch."

That was still better than troubling him with the truth, which is why you nodded and ran your fingers through your hair.

"Thanks."

But you didn't seem to mind just standing in front of him in a towel. By being with Gunwoo all the time, he had often seen you in your pajamas, without makeup, or in sweatpants. It was almost as if he lived with you. Probably you had spent too much time together or you saw him as another brother. The thought tasted bitter in his mouth and he didn't know why.

„Do you have anything I can wear?" you broke the awkward silence, and that's when he finally stopped staring at your legs.

"Sure," he quickly replied and disappeared into the only other door next to the bathroom.

When he came back he handed you a pair of yellow sweatpants and a black shirt with blue flames on it.

Disgusted, you lifted the clothes up with only two fingers.

"You've got to be kidding me..." you commented, and he laughed throatily.

"I'm sure it looks great on you!" he grinned and you wanted to punch him.

"Your clothing style is really questionable sometimes," you muttered, and it was obvious that he had picked out the ugliest things to tease you.

Or maybe he really meant it?

-> [2]

-

© Sky-yuna — 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

Taglist (open):

@littlebaby-bunbun @officialshania @choisoorin @fanaticnae @lola2004sworld @penny44224 @tasteskz-sworld

[sanjisboyfie]

DOMESTICITY : sanji's special dessert

jus some fluffy <3

(keep safe) sanji + male reader

-> i do have to say though: this doesn't really give OUTRIGHT romantic relationship/vibes but underlying tones are THERE trust. it's literally supposed to just be domesticity with sanji and the male reader. so SORRRY for not directly feeding into it ;( but i wanted to share this anyway because i do love the concept of this one in particular >:)

read the original fanfic where this sanji and the mc are based from !!

surprisingly, sanji and [name] got along more often times than not. it was only when they were really in the heat of the moment among their crewmates did they end up arguing. but also whenever [name] said anything about nami or vivi that sanji could have deemed invasive (it wasn’t, sanji was just really over protective of the women on their ship).

regardless of that fact, though, [name] really enjoyed sanji’s company.

“coffee cake! coffee cake!” [name] cheered from behind the counter, making sanji glare at him over his shoulder.

“hold on a minute, goddamit!” sanji shouted, putting the baking pan on the stove, fresh out of the oven. [name] ran around the counter and almost grabbed at the burning hot pan with his own hands, if it had not been sanji that stopped him right before he could touch it.

sanji restrained [name]’s greedy hands, cursing under his breath at [name]’s troublesome appetite.

“you’re gonna burn your hands, idiot!” sanji scolded, holding on [name]’s hands and pushing him back behind the counter, “wait for it to cool off a little, you can’t eat it right after it comes out of the oven,”

“but — you said it was ready!” [name] yelled in annoyance, a pout on his lips, “i want the coffee cake now! you just put it on there to taunt me, huh?”

“stop yelling for a second,” sanji said, sitting [name] down and lighting his cigarette. “let’s just wait a couple of minutes and then you can eat all of it,”

“really?! all of it?!” [name] had stars in his eyes.

the blonde chuckled, resting a hand on [name]’s shoulder to make sure he didn’t launch himself off at the hot pan on the stove. “well, you could eat all of it if you just kept your mouth shut,” sanji said, bringing a finger up to his lips, “you know luffy and his ear for food, he’s gonna come running down if you keep screaming about it,”

“roger,” [name] said obediently, his lips turning into a tight line as he sat very, very still. sanji chuckled, ruffling [name]’s hair and counting down the minutes.

after complete silence, [name] literally shaking in his seat from withdrawing himself from shouting out for the pastry, sanji was finally able to serve it to the starving man. he plated it carefully, placing it down in front of [name] with a mug of coffee to go with it.

“thank you sanji, you’re really the best!” [name] shouted before shoving the piece of cake into his mouth. he chewed it quickly, gulping down some coffee, before repeating the process over and over.

sanji wished he had the heart to scold [name] for eating so carelessly, but the longer he watched the scene, he simply let [name] be. sanji would be there to wipe his face clean anyway.

“this is so yummy, sanji, it’s not sweet at all,” [name] praised, bringing the empty plate up for another slice. sanji nodded his head, following the needs of the man easily and putting another thick slice of the cake onto [name]’s plate.

out of nowhere, luffy barged into the room and had stars in his eyes at the sight of the pastry. just as he was about to launch himself at the plate, sanji had easily kicked him away.

“don’t touch [name]’s food, bastard,” sanji said gruffly, putting his foot down onto luffy’s head and rolling his foot over his cheeks several times, “i already prepared you and the rest of the crew a cake, it’s out on the deck,”

“but, sanji, i already finished it!”

“well, then i’ll make you another one,” sanji simply said, walking away from luffy’s body that was in the corner of the kitchen, “[name] gets to have his own dessert since he can’t stomach the ones i usually make, so don’t ruin his own cakes!”

“but, sanji-!”

“out, out of the kitchen! don’t bother me again, unless you don’t want your cake anymore!” sanji threatened, waving a whisk at luffy, which effectively made the captain run out of the kitchen. it sounded as he was complaining how cruel sanji was, but it was honestly hard to tell.

“thanks, sanji,” [name] smiled sweetly, taking a languid sip of his coffee, “i almost gave him some of mine…”

“tsk, learn how to be a bit more selfish,” sanji scolded [name], chopping him lightly on the head. “or that baffoon is gonna eat all your food,”

“but-”

sanji shoved the spoon of coffee cake into [name]’s mouth to shut him up, shaking his head, “no buts, just don’t do it again,”

[name] quickly chewed, going to argue further, but sanji only repeated the same action and shoved another spoonful into [name]’s agape mouth. after savoring the dessert, [name] finally decided to give up and simply enjoy the food sanji had made him.

“thanks, sanji, i appreciate you making this for me,” [name] said, an undenaibly happy look on his face, “i know it’s probably more work for you, you have to make a separate dish from the rest of the crew-”

“just shut up,” sanji groaned, running a hand through his hair, “if you just shut up and eat, i’ll accept your thanks.”

[name] paused, looking at sanji with a soft look in his eyes. he tilted his head to the side, “c’mon, let’s finish it together,” sanji hummed in thought before leaning against the counter on his elbows. he took the spoon from [name]’s hand and tasted some of his own baking.

with a content hum, he relished in the bitter taste. sanji really had no preference for sweet or bitter, but since everyone on board merry preferred sweet, he had been used to eating only sugary desserts.

[name] joining allowed for him to get a taste of less sugary delights. and he enjoyed that, genuinely.

he stayed leaning against the counter, mindlessly sharing the spoon with [name] and exchanging small talk as they slowly finished the last crumbs of the dessert. [name] grinned, happily licking his lips, “the best chef and baker, sanji!!”

the chef’s back was turned to [name] since he was taking care of the dishes, so [name] couldn’t see his small smile.

“quiet down! i don’t want yelling in my kitchen!” sanji scolded the screaming man.

but [name] kept on cheering. and as his shouts of praise got louder, sanji’s grin got wider.