#if it weren’t so half baked most of the time :

[inkdrinkerworld]

hi fawn! hope you're doing ok

so, sunshine!reader and post prison!spencer, but r is all serious during work situations and spencer only finds out about this sunshiney side over their time together ☝️

Spencer thinks you’re a hardass and he likes it, but he’d be a horrible profiler if he didn’t realize that there was more under the surface.

You’re rigid and unmoving in most everything you do in the field, and you’re never wrong. But the minute it’s not work, you’re lighter in a way he can’t put into words.

Spencer notices what he terms, ‘the changes,’ during your mornings.

You’ll make his coffee the way he likes it and set it on his desk, or you’ll bring extra of whatever you baked over the weekend for him and the office.

Also, on some occasions you walk in on the phone with this grin that he swears lights up the whole room and your voice light and sweet as whipped sugar.

He’s fond of those mornings for your smile but he’s also raging jealous, that much he can admit to himself, of whoever is on the other end of the phone making you smile like that.

“Morning, Spence.” You’re late today, only two minutes but over the year you’ve worked there Spencer knows you hate it.

Maybe it’s why your face is set in a serious frown as you set your bags down. When you yawn and stretch he thinks maybe not.

“Hi, how was your first night back on Eastern Standard time?”

You sigh, headed into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. “Hell. I didn’t realize I’d be that jet lagged.”

Spencer coos something adorable, you feel it in your chest. He’s quite possibly the sweetest man you’ve ever met.

It’s possibly why you allowed yourself to get so close to him, why you’d become friends with Spencer and why you’re leaning into him as he stands next to you, your temple hovering over his shoulder.

He can smell your perfume this close and only hopes that it rubs off onto his shirt. It’s a scent so much like yourself he wonders if you realized that when you’d bought it.

It’s spicy and then after a couple seconds, amber and vanilla and something floral he can’t place takes over- it’s exactly you.

Spencer spots the change in demeanor the second on of the newbies pass by, the way you stand straighter and lean away from his space a little.

Still, he trails a hand from his side to the small of your back, a shiver racing down your spine as his hand touches you. Spencer bites back a smile- always pleased to be reminded by how he affects you the way you do him.

“Maybe if we’ve not got much going on here I can drive you home early.” The words are soft enough only you hear them, and there’s a touch of something you can place in his voice. Adoration? Love? You really shouldn’t assume.

“If Emily approves it.”

Spencer shrugs, mixing your coffee the way you like and handing you the warm mug, handle out towards you. “Or I can get you home first and tell you her you weren’t feeling well.”

You narrow your eyes as you take a sip of the coffee, relief and comfort flowing through you as your shoulders sag. Even you can’t quite make your coffee this well.

“Ask permission later, essentially?” You tease, Spencer smiles, a private smile only for you as you start making your way back to your desks together.

“For you? Yeah. She won’t mind either way.” It’s true, but the idea of Spencer possibly getting in trouble or going over Emily’s head to take care of you does make your heart flutter in a way you hadn’t expected.

“You flirt too much,” you say with a smile. Spencer hasn’t even shown you the half of it. “C’mon, I wanna hear my morning facts about orcas and ladybugs. Don’t keep a girl waiting.”

Spencer touches your shoulda as he gets past you, just to get his insect book and the orca book he’d gotten just for you. “Oh I’d never, honey.”

[merriclo]

(Switching to asks because it's easier and idk how you feel about dms) Like yeah man it is INSANE how the fandom treats Hylia. None of the Links but Wild and Sky (maybe Warriors, since he was exposed to Skyloft) should even really know who she is in the first place, much less hate her on a first name basis (although I'll admit I can't remember if she's ever mentioned in the comic)

And also actual people that hate her I just. Do not understand. Like for one there's a non zero chance that once Zelda dies Hylia does too there is NOTHING saying she ascends back to godhood or whatever. And for two nothing she did was actually wrong? Her plan in Skyward Sword went off the rails pretty much immediately- like seriously she's not done a single thing that wasn't helpful (since her only other appearance is blessing Link in botw/totk), unless not personally smiting Ganondorf counts (and for the record her job is literally triforce protection, lending more credence to the death theory)

i’m totally fine with DMs but asks are just as good plus i think there needs to be more conversation around this

people hate Hylia so much because like. apparently she gives out the quests and demands that the Links fight and get super traumatized and upset. and it’s like. okay (A) i cannot remember if that was ever explicitly stated in canon outside of like??? prophecies where Link is destined to do that???? and (B) i thought Link and the surfacing of a hero is tied to great evils across Hyrule cropping up. not some divine whim where Hylia is like “hey twig boy go fight evil incarnate. thanks!” please correct me if im wrong but i really don’t think Hylia is making Legend’s boat get struck my lightning again and sending him off to Koholint to experience the wackiest situationship ever

i understand maybe having some animosity against her due to the lines in the chosen hero manga but also hey guys that was in the middle of a war. and from a man who was tortured for like. ever. idk man

[wizzdot]

*short fic alert* (fic under page break)

Hear me out. Is this….John Price?!

The 141 get home late from a mission, Johnny and Gaz go straight to the showers and Simon slinks off to wherever it is he winds down after a tough few days.

You have been sat on the proverbial bench for the past few weeks with a bullet wound to the shoulder. While rendered useless to the team, you decide to take up a new hobby. So far, the boys have been lab rats for the taste tests of whatever concoction you pull from the oven.

The burnt cookies (that you’d forgotten to put eggs in) that Kyle had whined about almost breaking his perfect teeth. Johnny managed to gobble them up and didn’t seem to understand what the problem was, leading Simon to joke that the man had no taste buds.

Or the time you accidentally used Salt instead of Sugar in the Victoria Sponge cake. Kyle subtlety threw his slice in the bin while you weren’t looking making sounds as if he had enjoyed in. Johnny ate it, making it look so delicious that you were getting confident that your baking skills were finally improving. Simon took a slice back to his room and in the privacy of his own bed, took a bite, and immediately spat it down the toilet. “Christ Almighty, that fuckin’ twat really doesn’t have taste buds” he cursed.

You perfect your skills over the next couple of weeks, with Johnny and Kyle remaining endlessly supportive of your new venture. But the entire time, John avoids your baking attempts.

“Need to watch my weight, love”

“Wish I could have a bite, but I’m on a diet, sweetheart”

“Can’t afford to pile on the pounds at my age, Dove”

They are John’s favourite excuses. You won’t admit it, but it makes you sad. You want to make all of your boys happy. Also, he isn’t even that old for gods sake.

Simon knows that the Captain is avoiding your god awful attempts. But even Simon notices that your skills are slowly improving. He keeps sneaking cupcakes and cookies into his room and this past week, especially, they’d been… alright. Well - apart from the horrifically deformed attempt of decorating a cake like Yoda. It looked like a slimy goblin with wonky eyes - but it tasted ok.

So picture this, they get home from a three day long mission. You’d missed your boys. You’d left your most recent cake on the kitchen counter before going to bed. You climb out from your bed when you hear their tired footsteps heading down the hall.

You poke your head out of the door. Johnny and Kyle come over and give you a soft hug. “Christ, you boys stink” you say. “Fuck off” Kyle laughs, before stripping himself of his shirt “gonna hop straight in the shower anyway. See you in the mornin’, yeah?” he asks. I nod and watch as he leaves towards his room.

Johnny stands, watching Kyle retreat. “I smell even worse than him, hen” he says, trying to shove your head into his armpit. You fight him off and shoo him down the hall.

Simon walks past and gives a small nod, “you might want to go and see Price. He made a beeline for the kitchen” he grumbles, continuing on his way casually.

That comment puts you on edge. Is John hurt? Is he looking for you? You quickly slide on your fluffy slippers and shuffle down to the kitchen as quickly as you can.

The scene that greets you is the last thing you expect to see. The Captain, in a wide stance, leaning one hand on the counter, devouring your Cake (the best one you’d baked so far!!!) with just a single fork. He’d polished off at least half of it, showing no signs of slowing down.

You can’t help but giggle at the scene. “Is it good…?”

“Fuckin’ hell, Love. It’s delicious”

The blush that erupts over your cheeks is immense.

“That was supposed to be shared..” you mumble.

“Not in a sharing mood” he says through a mouthful of cake.

“It’s rude to chew with your mouth open, Captain” you joke.

“Teach me some manners then, sweetheart” he teases, stabbing the fork into the top of the remaining quarter of cake before crowding into your personal space.

“Cakes almost as sweet as you” he whispers into your left ear before leaving the kitchen with a smug smile as you stand frozen in place.

“Oh, I’ve forgotten something!” He mentions from down the hall before turning back and snatching the cake box from the counter. He pauses on his way out, pecking you on the cheek and heading to his office as if that was totally normal behaviour.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t stand touching the spot that he’d kissed for half an hour after he’d left.

Your phone interrupts your frozen state. It’s a text from the group chat.

………..

Johnny: “Kyle, d’ya think Cap told her how he feels yet?”

………

Johnny: “c’mon ya cunt, don’t ignore my message. I know your out the shower I can hear you laughin through the wall”

………

Simon’s voice bellows throughout the hallway “wrong fuckin’ chat, you moron” followed by Kyle cackling and Johnny swearing loudly.

You’re still standing in the doorway of the kitchen, in shock, when the door to John’s office opens.

“Guess you saw that, eh?” he asks, sheepishly.

You nod your head, zoning in on a piece of icing on the corner of his mouth. As if on instinct, you reach up and wipe it with your finger, sticking it into your mouth, before freezing again, realising what you’d just done.

Johns eyes follow your finger, hungrily.

“If you wanted to taste it, you could’ve just asked, love”

[yeonjuns-beanie]

As It Was

warnings: 18+, weed usage, smut, unprotected sex, soulmate au(kind of), little hatefuckin before real fucking, reader is a brat, mentions of suicide, oral(f receiving, logan is an EATER), claws come out when he…, little bit of primal play, breeding kink, daddy kink, implied age gap cuz i think it’s hot, im prolly gonna write him like an animal, think that’s it!! LOL

Logan Howlett x female!reader

summary: after saving his world from extinction, wade brings home a wolverine. you feel a tether to him but can't quite figure out what it is, but logan does. as the days go by you slowly chip away at the wall between you two and things slowly return to as it was.

word count: 4.5k

title is inspired by the hozier song of the same name....

It’s been three months now and you still couldn’t figure out the pull you felt toward Logan. The moment Wade brought him through the door, Mary Puppins in hand, you felt a tie to him. Now, it was as if the Red String of Fate was punishing you for not remembering your connection with him. It was haunting, aggravating, and pushing you towards sexual frustration because no matter how much you tried to remember, your thoughts would instantly become clouded with your attraction to him. He was brooding, grumpy, and humorous when he wanted to. The stoic exterior of him was just that, a shell. You just weren’t quite sure how to crack his nut yet.

You were sat in the main room of the apartment grinding up some green to pack a morning bowl. As you were getting ready to fill the glass you heard Wade’s voice echo through the apartment.

“You always grind Aunt Mary so hard. Don’t you think she would like to be loved tenderly, sugarbear?”

“And the last time I gave you the grinder there might as well have been a whole nug in the bowl. You damn near burned half my stash.”

“You’d think living with three addicts would be fun, but it’s more like babysitting toddlers fighting to see who can ruin my day first. Spoiler: it’s everyone.”

You chuckled, slotting the bowl into the joint of the bong, and pointed at Wade with it.

“You wanna hit this or not?”

“‘Course I do. How could I pass up a wake n bake with my girl?”

Wade jogged over to you, plopping dramatically on the seat next to you. Rolling your eyes, you took the first hit letting Wade finish off the remaining smoke in the shaft. Exhaling you spoke while the smoke billowed out of your mouth.

“Wade, baby, I love you, but I’m not your girl. What about Nessa?”

Before he spoke, he had his coughing fit like clockwork. Every time, no matter the method, resulted in a cough so bad he looked like a drooling dog. It was free entertainment but you tried your hardest not to laugh out loud because every time you did, it made it worse.

You couldn’t hold it

It was like watching a court jester and when Wade finally caught his breath he was staring off at a wall in the apartment mindlessly reaching for the glass. When his hand was left fondling the air reaching nothing, you let your laugh echo through the apartment.

“You sure you want another one?”

“Just gimme the weed, gorgeous. And to answer your question. Vanessa and I are on a break of sorts, but I’m wounded that I now have lost you too. It’s cause I brought Peanut here isn’t it?”

Wade was feigning heartbreak, just busting your balls in an effort to see if you’d crack. Your relationship was always like this and that was probably why you two got along so well. Nothing was ever too serious and yet still completely vulnerable. As wild as he was, Wade was a safe space for you and for some reason this morning, you felt like sharing.

“Perhaps.”

His head whipped so fast you thought it’d fly off. Coupled with his dramatic gasp and chest grab you nearly regretted your admission.

“I knew it!”

“Will you keep it down, it’s not that serious.”

“Au contraire. This is probably the most serious thing since Blind Al ran out of Peruvian marching powder.”

Rolling your eyes, you swallowed your pride as you knew Wade wouldn’t let it go until you told him every detail possible. As much as you pretended you hated divulging this information, it was kinda nice to let out to somebody. You’d been wrestling with so many feelings since Wade brought Logan to stay with you guys and the weight of it was becoming painful.

“Well, he’s hot obviously.”

“Tell me something more interesting, we all disrespectfully gawk at the honey badger.” Wade quipped.

“The problem is I feel this weird attachment to him. Like I’ve known him before. Maybe we met before they tried their best to wipe my memory, but I can’t shake this one. I’m drawn to him but he won’t let anyone get close enough to figure that out.”

You had your own run-in with the TVA a few years ago and instead of dumping you into the void, they were nice enough to plop you in Earth-10005. You were grateful considering the stories of this barren garbage heap that Wade and Logan told you about but you couldn’t remember why they sent you here in the first place.

You had no real memory of your life before this or what you did that fucked you up so badly. It always haunted you. Maybe you were a murderer. A merciless killer and that’s why they snagged you. A similar fate to Wade’s but they decided somewhere that you weren’t equipped for the job and the TVA orphaned you to another universe.

You weren’t complaining, you loved the life that you had now you just wanted to remember the rest of you. You were roaming this universe, a husk of your former self and no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that it didn’t bother you, it did. It kept you up at night. Until Logan walked through the apartment door.

Slowly, things started to reveal themselves to you but only in a dream. You were forced to piece together your life with the shattered fragments of what your dreamscape gave you to work with. You’d wake up from the most vivid dreams only to remember one instance where you were walking down a street, the sky pouring rain in a godly attempt to cleanse you. Your hands were always coated in crimson when you looked down.

It’d come in flashes and it’d end just as fast. You were patient with yourself but a lot of times you tried to drown out the feeling with various substances. Weed being your vice of choice as alcohol made you suffer. Making you wish that an attempt of self-mutilation or the bittersweet release of dancing with death while your wrists stained the floor garnet succeeded.

They never did.

So you tried your best to make peace with your life and you were doing alright until Logan showed up. Now the universe was mocking you. Testing to see if you’d slip up and forget everything you learned.

“I think he’d like to figure you out, y/n. Do with that what you will.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Wade shrugged his shoulders handing you the bong back. As he stood up you took one last hit and left the glass piece on the table. As you exhaled, Logan’s voice pierced through the silence.

“Jesus. D’ya have to stink up the apartment with that shit? Can’t go outside?”

“Easy, peanut. The art of the wake n bake is sacred. Plus, talk to the gardener if you have requests to make, not me.”

Wade pointed to you as he wandered off into the kitchen and you reached for the bong motioning it to Logan.

“Wanna hit?”

Logan hit you with a short ‘no’ and it almost hurt your feelings. Your gaze flicked over to Wade who was mouthing to you something you couldn’t quite make out but he was pointing to Logan while doing it. Your brain spazzed for a moment before coming up with a response as you stood.

“You want coffee or something, Lo?”

“Sure, kid.”

You walked into the kitchen with Wade and started whispering to him.

“What the fuck? Of course, he comes out while I’m blowing up the house.”

“I don’t see why you’re worried, he doesn’t seem upset.”

You turned around trying your best not to look suspicious.

“Yes, the fuck he does. I’m gonna fuck this up before I even get the chance to start-”

“-You two morons know I can hear you, right?”

You hung your head in defeat finishing up the two cups before setting one in front of Logan and holding yours while you stood. The air was thick, but not uncomfortable. It just felt like everyone needed to get something off their chest and didn’t know how to start. Before you opened your mouth to speak, Wade’s voice cut you off while he sent a text message.

“Well, I’m gonna leave you lovebirds to it. I’ve got a pegging date.”

Again. Mocking you. The universe seemed to just have it out for you and apparently, today was the day of honesty. You took a seat across from Logan wondering where to direct the conversation.

“You hungry? I can make us something.”

“I’m alright kid, not too keen on stoner food in the morning.”

“Hey, I’m still a good cook when I’m cooked. I just wanted to offer.” You paused.

“Also if you have a problem with it, I’ll find a new spot. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

“No need. Just giving you guys a hard time. We all have something to cope with our shit.”

You nodded knowing he was referencing his drinking habit, or problem if we were feeling honest. You left your coffee cup on the table and stood up, wanting to Irish goodbye in your own home. But you didn’t want to add any more bricks to this wall even though it felt like the silence was already doing so.

“Well, um. I’m gonna chill out for a bit in my room if you need anything.”

He hummed to let you know he heard you and you walked down the hallway to your bedroom before stopping in your tracks. Something possessed you and you had to get this out. The test was walking away and if you finished that journey into your bedroom and locked the door, nothing would be resolved. Turning on your heel, you walked back into the kitchen and faced Logan.

“Why do you hate me?”

He nearly choked on his coffee, the noise echoing in the cup.

“What?”

You sighed, trying to not feel silly about your admission.

“Why do you hate me? And if you don’t, why do you act like it? It’s so hard to get through to you and it feels like I’m talking to a fucking wall.”

“Kid-”

“And stop ‘kid’ing me! If it’s out of endearment it doesn’t feel like it.”

Your heart rate was rising and you could feel your skin getting hot. The months of pent up emotions were finally boiling over and you couldn’t stop it. You needed to know why.

“What is it then, y/n?”

“Why can’t I get through to you? Every time I try, you shut me down by being curt with me and I’m left with the same feeling as before. I can’t shake this feeling that I know you and I can’t even get close to you without you shoving me away like I have a fatal disease. So why, Logan? All I wanna know is why?”

He sighed knowing there was no easy way to escape this.

“Kid–sorry. It’s complicated. I know that feeling. I feel it too, but I know why it’s there and I don’t want to fuck it up again.”

Again?

“What do you mean again?”

Logan sighed and said nothing. Hanging his head in what you thought was shame but most definitely could be avoidance. It frustrated you even more so because why couldn’t he just talk to you?

“Here we go again, nothing?! Is it so hard to just say what this is?”

“It’s not that simple, bub.”

You scoffed and turned around to walk to your room. You needed to clear your head because it was more than apparent that a solution would not be provided for you. Logan didn’t have the courage to reveal what he knew so a walk away from him would have to suffice.

“Y/n! Where are you going?”

“I need to clear my head since obviously you don’t have the gall to tell me what the fuck is going on.”

Slipping your shoes on, you tried to move past Logan but he was blocking the doorway.

“Move.”

“Y/n. Just-”

“I said move, Logan.”

One wall after another you kept hitting, except this one was physically him. He nearly filled up the doorway and his frame was imposing. You tried to figure out how you’d slip past him but you were so heated that you were about to settle for dramatics before he moved his body just enough for you to slip past. You stared at him, looking for something in his eyes to tell you to stay but it just made you more irritated. You walked down the hallway and almost made it to the door before you felt his hand wrap around your wrist.

“Do you get a kick out of torturing me or something?”

“Sweetheart, if you just—just sit down and let me say what I need to say.”

“Oh, now you wanna fucking talk. Let go of me. I’m not in the mood to talk anymore.”

Logan’s grip on you tightened as you struggled against him and you pushed on his chest trying to get him off of you. He was stunned by your actions and so were you but you couldn’t stop. You kept pushing him away from you until he grabbed your upper arms stabilizing you but you still were pressing your hands against his chest. He was calling your name trying to calm you down but you were too lost in your emotions. You thrashed your head up, trying to plead with him silently to let you go even though you knew that was the last thing you wanted.

When your eyes met his, one of his hands cradled the back of your head and before you could register it, his lips were slotted against yours in a moment of desire and exasperation. Bated breath, fury, and sexual confusion fueled the kiss but you’d be a liar to say you didn’t enjoy this feeling. His body flesh against yours, the heat bouncing between the two of you nearly suffocating and it had only been seconds. Logan had you pressed against the wall his hands roaming the curves of your body and his knee slotted itself in between your thighs, completely caging you against him.

He pushed his knee up into the apex of your thighs applying a delicate pressure to your center. You moaned against him, your body rolling your hips into the feeling. His hands were roaming over your body in a frenzy, like if he didn’t touch you fast enough you’d disappear. Your hands wrapped into his hair, pulling on his sandy brown locks as you tried to stabilize yourself into the feeling.

Logan pulled away from you, a string of spit the only thing left connecting you two until it broke and you felt the cold air vaporize the heat on your swollen lips. You were staring at his features, locked in his gaze hoping that if you didn’t break eye contact he’d stay right here. His gruff voice broke the heady silence.

“Since you wanna be a brat and not talk anymore, I have no choice but to show you how I feel, sugar.”

Logan slid his hands down until they were underneath the swell of your ass and told you to jump. As your legs wrapped around his waist, he walked down the hallway to your room. His senses were incredibly heightened at this moment and when he breached the threshold of your room, he was intoxicated by the smell of you swirling the room.

As he laid you down on your bed, your scent wafted off of the sheets with a gentle breeze and he was soon surrounded by a nest of you and your arousal. He prowled over your body, taking you in and memorizing every inch of you, how you were restless against him, and how your lower half mindlessly moved against him in desperate need of some sort of friction.

He uttered a low growl against you as he snaked up to your neck leaving a string of hot kisses against your skin. The scruff of his beard nearly overstimulated you and had you clawing at his skin, frantic in your efforts, soft moans escaped your lips in wordless need of feeling something more.

“Don’t wanna talk but I got you whimpering for me, huh princess?”

“Lo-”

“Shh, baby. I got you.”

Logan bit your ear, pulling at the skin before he tugged at the bottom of your shirt and you lifted your back just enough so that he could slip it off of you. Your upper body was fully exposed to him as your tits pancaked on your chest. As he lowered his face back down to your body, he trailed down your skin with his nose inhaling every last inch of you. The action was so subdued in comparison to the rest of his demeanor that you got completely lost in the feeling.

As his face met your stomach, the scent of your arousal was incredibly inebriating, deluging his mind with salacity. He traced the waistband of your shorts with his nose, encasing his teeth around the elastic piece of fabric before replacing his mouth with his hands as he languidly pulled them down your legs. Tossing them across the room he looked up at you.

“You want this?”

“Please.” You mewled out.

Logan shoved his nose against your panties inhaling your scent before rubbing your bud through the fabric as he came back up your body to capture your lips in a searing kiss. He pulled your panties from your body, your slick stretching as the fabric left your messy lips. The cool air was welcomed but was soon replaced by the warmth of Logan’s mouth against your petals.

He lapped at you like a dog. A wanton primal need taking over his senses. He wanted to be enveloped in you and you in him. In every timeline, he’d claim you and this one was no different. You tangled your hands in his hair, rolling your pussy into his face as he sloppily ate you out. His hands were wrapped around your hips holding you in place as he greedily drank you in.

You could feel the spit dripping down your folds and forming a cool pool of fervour beneath your skin. Eyes rolling back in ecstasy you could feel your orgasm begin to settle in your lower stomach, heat rippling across your skin. Your moans increased in frequency but became more breathy in nature as you came closer to your high.

Logan’s hand snaked up your curves and his fingers teased your nipples, pulling and pinching at the sensitive skin as he felt your body grow more tense with desire. Dragging his calloused hands down your body one last time, he inserted a finger into your wet, libertine cavern and you sucked him in with need. The stretch of him adding a second finger pushing you right to your edge as he curled them inside of you.

“Lo- I’m gonna-”

“I know, sugar. Let it out. Lemme hear you”

He immediately put his tongue back on your clit, and let you ride out your high against his face. Your moans gained volume completely immersed in the pleasure. When the ripples of euphoria finally dwindled, you looked down at Logan and pulled him up to your face so you could kiss him. The tang of your sex was still present on his lips and it ignited something within you.

“You got too many fuckin clothes on, Daddy.”

You were breathless. Lost in a licentious rhapsody as you had him hovering over your body and when Logan paused his movements to look at you, you thought you ruined the moment. He could smell the change in you and spoke before you had the chance to apologize for nothing.

“Say it again.”

He could feel you heartbeat pounding in your chest, arousal returning to the forefront of your mind.

“Wanna see you. Feel all of you, Daddy.”

Your voice was dripping sex, his personal psychedelic. He freed himself from his beater and you palmed his bulge through his sweats. Slipping your hand past the waistband, you stroked his heavy cock.

“Lemme make you feel good.”

You were getting ready to flip your bodies over, but Logan pinned you to the bed his eyes boring through you. You felt so small underneath him, like he could do whatever he wanted to you and you’d let him. When he spoke he broke you from the trance.

“Another time, sweetheart. This is about showing you how I feel about you since my baby needs me to spell it out for her.”

Slipping out of his sweats his cock was on full display, so heavy that it didn’t have the spring to bounce against his stomach. It hung in front of him, heady and in desperate need to be inside of you. Precum and prurience leaked from his tip. Logan crawled on top of you, the tip of his cock rubbing between your folds, coating your slick across his shaft.

“Tell me what you want. Tell me how you want me to fuck you.”

You squeezed around nothing, the action not going unnoticed by Logan. You mewled against him, just wanting him to ravish you in every way possible. You wanted to be marked, for everyone to see that you belonged to him but you couldn’t find the words to articulate this feeling while this sexual heat was radiating off of your bodies and numbing your mind.

Logan slowly pushed his tip into your rapt cunt before pulling it out and sliding it against your clit. The withdrawal of pleasure bringing you to your senses.

“I want you to make me yours. Wanna belong to you, Lo.”

You were wanton with need. The desire for him became nearly unbearable and it was all soon resolved as he pushed his cock past your pious walls, defiling you of any innocence you had left. You wanted to be claimed, he’d claim you. Animal instinct took over as he rocked his hips into your cunt, your walls fluttering around him in ardor. Low growls left his throat as he nipped at the skin on your neck, alternating between kissing the marks and swiping them with his tongue. He was marking you, making you his own.

It was like he couldn’t get close enough to you as he thrusted into you. His arms wrapped around your body as you fell limp to the pleasure. You felt another orgasm on the horizon and you tried your best to warn Logan by sinking your nails into his back, leaving red trails of morbid desire to mark him as yours. You didn’t realize the amount of pressure you were putting on his skin, but the groans that left him had that concern pushed to the back of your mind. Your orgasm washed over you and your pussy squeezed so tight around him that you nearly pushed him out of you. You were entranced, drunk on him and his cock, still desperate for more.

It was like he could hear your thoughts because as soon as you thought of a second round, Logan was flipping you on your hands and knees and you arched your back as he rubbed his hand along the small of it, accentuating your arch. His cock filled your sugared walls one more time and as he buried himself to the hilt. Wrapping a hand around your neck, he brought your body flesh against his.

“Gonna fuckin breed you. Never gonna forget you who belong to, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t help the preemptive squeezing of his cock at the mention of him breeding you. The thought of him filling you with all of him was grossly erotic and Logan took the chance to taunt you.

“Oh? You like that, huh? Want daddy to breed your pretty little pussy?”

You hummed, your eyes lidded as you tried to see him over your shoulder. Sweat was sticking your bodies together and you only noticed how hot it was between the two of you when he pushed your body forward, cool air hitting your back as he began to mold your cunt to the shape of his cock. His tip was kissing your cervix and repeatedly hit that spot deep inside of you that made you squirm against his body.

His thrusts were becoming sloppy, his breaths ragged and you could feel your third orgasm of the night creeping on you. Low growls complimented the whimpers that were leaving your mouth and being somewhat muffled by the fabric of your sheets. You couldn’t hold his hips against you to ensure that he stayed inside so you just whimpered out a small ‘inside’ as you felt your orgasm begin to wash over your body.

Logan wasn’t far behind, one hand resting on your hips and his other by your head steadying himself above you. Sinking his teeth into your neck, you cried out in avidity and rapture filled his veins before painting his seed across your walls. You heard a faint schwing and as you opened your eyes, you saw that his claws were extended. As you moved your hips back into him to fuck you through the rest of your high, you accidentally nicked yourself on one of his blades. He hissed against you uttering a strained ‘don’t move’ as the luxuria dissipated in his body.

As he calmed down, his claws retracted back into skin and he gently rolled you over to gaze over your features. He moved a few sweat-stricken pieces of hair off of your face and placed a gentle kiss on your lips, which was such a contrast from before. Pulling out of you he pushed himself off the bed.

“Be right back.”

Returning with a warm towel, he cleaned you up and grabbed a shirt from one of your drawers waiting for you to put it in before sliding next to you in the bed. You curled into him, tracing patterns into his chest. Looking up at him, you felt none of the tension from before in the room and you decided that this would be the time.

“So, what did you mean by ‘again’ earlier?”

Logan sighed but not out of exasperation like it was earlier, it was softer this time.

“In my world, we were together. That’s the pull you feel. But in like so many other areas in that timeline, I fucked up and I lost you. I’d rather have kept you at a distance than not have you at all, but I fucked that up too, now.”

He laughed the last bit out, a touch of humor apparent in his delivery. Sighing, you felt like something could work here between the two of you.

“Well, whenever you’re ready to tell me what happened between your timeline’s me and you, I’ll wait patiently for it. But until then, know that you’re not losing me here. I’m yours as long as you want me.”

You didn’t expect a response from him, nor did you feel like you really needed one. You wanted to relish in this moment between the two of you and soon enough sleep overtook both of your forms.

© yeonjuns-beanie '24

~Just as it was, baby Before the otherness came And I knew its name The love, the dark, the light, the flame~

[gay-dorito-dust]

Giving Bill Cipher the princess treatment prompt or hc's? (Bill totally isn't threatening Reader's entire family if they don't princess carry him and call him babygirl) I love how you write Bill by the way!

Warning: unhealthy relationship stuff and threats from bill.

After everything that went down with sixer and his supposed ‘betrayal’ bill didn’t think he’d find an another puppet companion so soon until one day he came across poor unfortunate you.

Some half baked sob stories of his origins and looking through his fingers at you to make sure you were feeling sympathy for him later, and you were effectively under his thumb by the end of the week. The quickest he’s ever manipulated someone into feeling sorry for him yet!

Now you were stuck forced to carry him in your arms whenever he wished and calling him…baby girl…why you never bothered to ask as whenever you did raise things into question with Bill it usual turns out something like this:

You: don’t you think that’s a little extreme?

Bill: and here I thought you were suppose to be supportive of my dreams and aspirations. Oh well I guess you didn’t need your family that much if you’re quick to question me-

You: No! It’s a brilliant plan! No flaws at all! You’re so smart…baby girl…

Bill: *smirks when you fall back in line* good now I demand to be carried in your arms *he gives you grabby hands*

You: *sigh* yes baby girl *proceeds to pick him up and carry him for the rest of the day*

You’d even have to call Bill baby girl when your mad unless you wanted the corpses of your family to be piled up on your front door!

It was ridiculous but what could you do when stuck in a less than ideal relationship with a demonic triangle who could bring you to heel with a simple click of his fingers? You were doomed to be his servant for the sake of your family and even if you did go to anyone about it, who’d believe you? You’d be the new old man Mcgucket for certain.

So you only sigh and do whatever Bill wanted in hopes it will satisfy him enough to leave your family alone, even if it was brief.

The worst case scenario would be If bill saw that you weren’t being enthusiastic in your affection towards him, then that would be a harder thing to dig your way out of. It didn’t matter whether you were tired mentally or physically, if Bill wanted to be carried in your arms he will want you to do so with a complicit smile on your face.

Bill: you don’t look happy to be carrying me? *squints his eye*

You: *quickly puts on a fake smile* what?! I’m more than happy to carry my baby girl! It’s the only highlight of my day, nothing could ever compete with spending time with my baby girl!

Bill: good! For a second there I thought you’d have to be attending a family members funeral for a moment. Haha guess I must’ve been seeing things, right? *he stares uncomfortably at you*

You: yeah because how could I ever show you any other emotion other than happiness and love. *internally dying*

Bill: also don’t over compliment me, it makes you look clingy and I don’t like clingy.

You internally: as if you aren’t clingy yourself you fucking discarded sentient Dorito chip.

It’s better to keep playing his game until he inevitably grows bored of you, and god forbid if you ever encounter Stanford Pines ever, your family is certain for destruction if Bill caught you talking to his traitorous ex partner. (Potential for Stanford x reader?)

Needles to say if you were to ever be granted the ability to time travel, you’d go back and warn yourself to not trust Bill Cipher, not if you want your family’s blood on your hands just because you didn’t call him Babygirl first thing in the morning.

You: morning bi-

Bill: whichever family member your love the most will die in 5 seconds if you don’t correct yourself sweetie.

You: morning babygirl, what should we do today?

Bill: *pats you on the shoulder* that wasn’t so hard was it? And I don’t feel like doing anything that requires me to part from you for suspicious periods of time incase you do something I don’t like. *stares at you menacingly*

You: good choice! All day with my babygirl? I’m so lucky…so extremely….lucky. *looks over at the photo of your family and friends* blessed even…

Bill: you sure are! Now why don’t you carry me! *grabby hands 2.0*

[cheriladycl01]

None of my Achievements are my Own - Lando Norris x Verstappen! Reader

Plot: Being the little sister of Max Verstappen, Ex Girlfriend of Charles Leclerc and Lando Norris current girlfriend nothing that you do, seems to reflect on you, it’s always one of the men in your life getting the credit.

Coming from a family with the last name Verstappen, made anything you did as a child not good enough.

You won a medal in your swimming class, Max had won 3.

You raised €600 euro selling baked cakes across your village for the local environment agency. Max had raised €2000 for his local karting track to get new tires around the edges for protection and have the track relayed.

They were silly little things but as a kid, you never felt appreciated by your family and it wasn’t just your dad, it seemed to be your mum too. Max and Victoria also never took notice of your feelings on the matter.

As you got older, being cast out and almost ignored by your family caused you to develop Anxiety and stayed in the house for most of your teen years.

You only really left when forced to go to Max’s races as he started progressing his way through the FIA feeder series to get to F1.

“Dad I really don’t want to be here today” you sighed rubbing your shoulder as you kept your headphones half on half off.

“It’s good for you to support your brother, especially as he’s becoming an accomplished young man. I can’t say the same for you” he frowns watching as Max passes you guys on track.

That race shortly ended. You saw Max getting a little heated just after the podium, and you ran over to your older brother to try calm him down.

If there was one thing you were good at it was calming his bad temper down. Not that you ever got the recognition.

“Max, Maxie what’s going on?” You ask running up to him, and seeing the guilty looking boy next to him.

“Next time maybe fucking look” Max seethes at the boy.

“Max calm down. What happened” you ask taking a hold of his arm, but he swats your hand off.

“He nearly made me loose that race from his careless driving” he points at the boy before storming of to your father, no doubt to have him critique the hell out of his race.

“I’m so sorry about him” you admit to the boy bashfully. He was still stood there looking rather awkward.

“It’s fine, he was right. You’re his sister right?” he sighs.

“Yeah- how’d you know?” You ask.

“You always seem to be here with Max and your dad. I don’t think he’d talk to you the way he does if you weren’t his family. I’m Charles by the way” the boy says and that was the start of something really beautiful.

You started dating Charles just as he was announced for F2 in 2016. But when that got into the media, of course it was because of Max that you’d managed to get into a relationship with a future F1 driver.

You thought finally having some independence from your brother would mean you could put a foot out in this world.

But once you left home to move in with Charles, it only seemed like as he progressed to Formula One in 2018, your further achievements were still not your own.

“Max, I’m leaving” you’d told you brother. You’d already had this conversation with your father who had refused at the idea at first, thinking it preposterous of you to leave.

“What do you mean?” He’d asked cocking his head to the side.

“I’m going to live with Charles, I think it’s going to be better for me” you said, looking down, and playing with your fingers.

“What do you mean, better for you” he asks with a frown on his face. Despite what the fans, or media stated Max loved you with his whole heart, and it was a huge heart he loved you with, he however was ignorant to your feelings on independence. But that was also partly your fault for hiding it so well.

“I just want to go do something for me, you know where it’s my name tied to it and I think somewhere new away from everything here is exactly what I need” you explained.

“Your name?” He asks with even more of a frown.

“None of my achievements are my own, or are acknowledged because I’m the sister of Max Verstappen but maybe I just want to be Y/N for a little bit? I want people to notice me for me, and what I’ve done in life. Not just because my last name is Verstappen” you smiled and hoped that day your new life with Charles would be different.

It wasn’t, If anything … it was worse.

You got into University to study engineering, but that was only because you were dating F1 driver Charles Leclerc otherwise you would have gotten into University the minute you turned 18 in 2017. Rather than delaying it till 2019 once Charles had a secure seat in Ferrari.

And when you became an advocate for APM Monaco, it was only because Charles was asked first.

Or once you got a job within McLaren in 2019 it was only because you had a brother driving for RedBull and a boyfriend driving for Ferrari. Not because of your ambition and hard work in your first year of University.

And when Charles proposed to you, you were quick to say yes.

You were ready to get rid of the dreadful Verstappen name, and Y/N Leclerc had a nice ring to it, and maybe once you just became Charles fiancé you’d have some independence.

But that fantasy was of course short lived.

“Charles baby?” You asked coming home from a day at university. You’d come home because a lecturer had failed to turn up so you thought you’d surprise your boyfriend with his favourite meal and some flowers.

You heard some movement in the bedroom making you go up and see a sight that broke your heart.

Your boyfriend of 4 years, fiancé for 1 year in bed with another woman. You couldn’t bare the sight.

“Y/N my love. I - what” he gasps as you’d entered the bedroom.

“H-how long?” You’d asked, it was your first question. We’re you not good enough?

“Ma Cherie, please forgive me I’m so so sorry” he begs getting on his knees and the other girl takes her leave.

And the worst thing of all, you were so hopelessly in love with him, that you nearly did forgive him with that look.

“Nothing I’ve ever done in my life, has ever been because of me. I’ve never got the credit for anything, so this one time… I’m taking the credit for breaking up with you. And you are going to tell everyone how you broke my heart … because I will not have you take this from me” you’d said to him with tears in your eyes, a sense of deja vu from you conversation three years prior with Max.

You broke up with him on the spot not wishing to ever see him again.

After some time of self reflecting and improvement you and Lando, who had joined McLaren at the same time as you and became your close friend decided it was time to be more than friends.

Lando had always kind of held a school boy crush on you since you both started in 2019, but he knew you were untouchable thanks to both your brother and your boyfriend at the time. Being the same age made you guys really close.

Once you’d broken up with Charles, he could see the change in you, there wasn’t that sparkle in your eyes, you always looked pretty vacant when he looked at you when you thought nobody was looking.

He’d watch the way your eyes lit up with fake happiness when someone approached you to talk.

You and Lando started dating at the end of the 2022 season. However when he said he wanted to keep it under wraps for a while you were so excited. It meant you had Landos love and affection but you were free to be you right?

WRONG

Whatever you’d did you were still seen as Max Verstappen’s Sister and the Ex Girlfriend of Charles Leclerc.

However as you and Lando grew as a couple you noticed he was one of the only to acknowledge your achievements even if the fans didn’t.

When you graduated from your masters in 2023 he was there with a bunch of flowers and watched as you walked across the stage being the loudest person cheering you on, well the only person really cheering you on. Your parents and brother didn’t manage to come.

When you started running a charity on the side to help creatures in the ocean stop ingesting so much plastic being thrown into the ocean. He was there at the press conference where you’d announced your invention and how it would help clear up the oceans.

All of the little side quests he did with you, he made sure to promote them as yours as yours alone and he was only tagging alone to watch and support.

Of course there were still haters, thought you were only a product of your birth name and who you’d dated and that’s why you’d been given all these opportunity’s and that you hadn’t worked hard for anything in your life.

Which was beyond false.

“Lando?” You asked one day, you both lying in bed after a stressful race weekend.

“Yes baby?” He asks looking away from his phone and his eyes fully trained on you showing he was paying full attention to you.

“I - I really love you and appreciate you, I just wanted to let you know” you say looking over at him, and he moves back in shock a little, trying not to show it.

“W-what? Where has this come from. I know you love me silly” he laughs looking over you to try determine if there was anything else going on.

“I know I know, I just - my whole life whatever I’ve done was never mine … not until I met you. And I just want you to know that I appreciate the fact that you see … well me” you breathe and as ge listens he looks like he could cry from the things you are saying to him.

He knew your relationship with your brother was strained at best, he saw that from the very start. And he knew you and Charles didn’t exactly end on a happy note but he didn’t realise just how much you’d been not only discredited for but out right stolen off.

“Baby - why did you never tell me” he asks pulling you into him and hugging you while toying with your hair gently.

“I guess I never felt like I had a voice until I met you, because nothing was my own. But I have that with you!” You smile tears brimming your own eyes with how much you love this man in front of you.

“Marry me” he whispers not looking at you, and you think you didn’t hear him correctly.

“What?”

“Marry me. I never want you to feel like that ever again, and I love you more than anything on this planet. I want to show you just how much of a voice you have for the rest of our lives” he offers and you can’t help but just stare at his eyes.

“Yes - Yes” you cry and cling to him like a koala.

You’d finally found your voice and your purpose and that was in Lando Norris.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[gutsby]

Cherry Pie

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader

Summary: You know virtually nothing about sex, and Daryl’s done it all. Together, you take on an impromptu anatomy lesson, and you learn that Daryl has a lot more to teach you than what’s covered in the textbooks.

Warnings: NSFW. Corruption kink!!! Loss of virginity. Messy, unprotected p-in-v. Oral (f!receiving). Daryl puts your promise ring on his tongue while he eats you out and does it in front of someone else, in secret. Half-baked breeding kink and an indirect marriage proposal.

Love him or hate him, the man played to win.

Daryl was one of those few unflinchingly stubborn motherfuckers who never saw a challenge he didn’t like, or a game he couldn’t beat. The world at large was his personal sports arena, and everyone around him a rival. You suspected that was why, with his hands planted on either one of your thighs and a smile as wide as the moon shining bright above you two, you almost felt inclined to believe him when he’d said:

“I’m gonna pop tha’ cherry someday, just wait.”

You remembered staring at him in a mixture of confusion and disbelief, hardly computing the words he’d spoken.

“What’s a cherry?” you’d asked.

Daryl just grinned even bigger and dropped a kiss over your two, tightly knit eyebrows, grabbing your hand to hoist you back onto your feet. Then he’d led you back, promising to tell you everything in due time.

That was six months ago—and you hardly knew more about this wild, elusive “cherry” today than you did back then. The longer Daryl led you down this rabbit hole, the more you started to believe this whole thing was nothing but a sordid working of your friend’s imagination. Another sinister game you were destined to lose.

Presently, you squeezed his head tight between your thighs and gripped the headboard even harder, rutting your hips in the most obscene manner above Daryl’s outstretched tongue. You felt your whole body tremble with pleasure, and in a matter of seconds, that merciless, mind-numbing bliss came crashing over your senses.

Orgasms, you’d learned a little over a week ago, weren’t just the stuff of dreams but a real life bodily release. Ever since Daryl had made you privy to that secret euphoric source, it seemed you were aching for it all hours of the day; accordingly, you’d made a frequent seat of Daryl’s face and rode that wave every chance you got. There were moments you feared the man might suffocate between your thighs, but he came up smiling every time.

At length, Daryl happily lapped up the last drops of your arousal and hummed an appreciative note below.

You slid—or, more aptly, collapsed—down his body and brought your head to rest on his chest, panting in awe.

“You bastard,” you hissed.

“That good?” Daryl grinned.

“Surely this...oral fixation isn’t gonna last forever, is it?”

You tilted your head just in time to see Daryl swiping his thumb over his bottom lip before bringing it down to your own. Coaxing the digit between your lips and waiting for you to suck it, all wide-eyed and innocent.

“Mhmm,” he nodded, pushing his finger even further. Whether he was answering your question or simply urging you to take more of him, you couldn’t be sure.

Though you weren’t particularly fond of that unfamiliar taste in your mouth, you accepted it anyway and sucked on his thumb like you knew he wanted you to do. You even got the sense he liked when your eyes locked on his, so you did that too, just staring and suckling and feeling a bit like a fool. Daryl groaned and drove his finger even deeper, smiling when your throat convulsed around him.

He withdrew his hand and admired the strings of saliva that followed it. Then, with that same hand, he patted your head affectionately.

“Gettin’ there,” he said. Already sliding off your bed and heading toward the bathroom.

Getting where? You thought, almost forlorn at the sight of his retreating figure.

Daryl did this every time—lick, rub, and tonguefuck you dumb ‘til you came all over his face, then leave you sprawled out on your bed while he locked himself away in another room. It was bewildering.

He wouldn’t tell you why he left, or what he was doing while tucked away from your prying eyes, but you surmised it had something to do with the lump in his jeans. That zipped-up, bulging mass that always seemed to disappear mere minutes after leaving your presence, the “puffy” thing you’d prodded once or twice above the fabric of his pants. You ached to know what inhabited that space between his legs, and even more, what made it vanish so fast. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to suss out that those parts of him had something to do with the analogous parts on you, so it seemed you had only to feel yourself up to get a little closer to the truth.

You slipped a hand between your thighs and ran a touch down your slick, throbbing core.

You hardly knew what you were doing; you just wanted to learn more.

A shiver passed over your lower half as your fingers grazed a particularly raw spot, one you remembered Daryl calling your clit. It didn’t feel the same beneath your trembling touch.

Nothing did, in fact. You pushed a finger inside yourself and barely made it to the second knuckle before your walls started to sting.

What made Daryl’s tongue feel so good that wouldn’t work the same for your own hands?

An exasperated sigh shuddered through your chest, and your eyes started to close. You teased another finger at your entrance, hoping to simulate the same sensation of Daryl’s mouth, but you whimpered when it burned. You bit your lip, braced yourself, and stupidly ventured for a third, when something tore your attention away.

You jolted back in bed and shot a look to the side, where Daryl had your offending hand pinched between two fingers. You peered up at him and saw him scowl.

“’Fuck ye think yer doin’?” he snapped.

You bit back your nerves and surprised yourself with a quick return, spoken just as sternly:

“Touching myself, Daryl, what does it look like?”

You tried to yank your hand away, but Daryl kept it close to his body. Squeezed it even harder.

“I thought we talked about tha’,” he said, his voice annoyingly even, “We said ye weren’t allowed to touch yerself ‘less I was there with ya.”

You couldn’t help it. You pulled hard on your hand and pried yourself out of his grasp. Then you slotted it right back between your legs, eyes never leaving his.

“We haven’t talked about anything, Daryl. You won’t tell me a goddamn thing about this...thing of mine, or yours, or anything,” you said, flustered and unable to keep from repeating your words the longer you tried racking your brain of its limited vernacular.

You pretended not to notice when Daryl’s eyes drifted down your body, and the once-flat seam of his jeans started to stir. Didn’t spare a second glance when he shifted uncomfortably on his feet and seemed to waver, indeterminately, between two warring ideas in his brain.

In truth, he was debating whether to fuck you senseless right there on your plush, lacy sheets or else sit back and watch you try and piece yourself together, all misguided fingertips and muffled whimpers before his hungry gaze. And, if he were a little more honest with himself, he would admit he wasn’t just hungry but starved for your affections, seeing you splayed across the covers with your fingers dipped between your folds and fumbling around without the faintest idea of where to put them.

You’d been born and raised within the four walls of this post-apocalyptic community and hadn’t strayed an inch outside a second in your life. Folks like you, afforded the unique luxury of never needing to leave the asylum, simply had no reason to learn life’s dirtier dimensions.

You knew the birds and the bees and your mother’s ardent pleas never to let a man corrupt you down there if he wasn’t your husband, but you didn’t even know how that corruption came to be. You were pure, unblemished territory, blinking up at Daryl with the widest eyes of naïveté, and part of him couldn’t bear the thought of taking that away from you—not yet, at least.

Another part of him felt the urge to defile you in the worst ways imaginable, right then and there, with both your parents lounging obliviously downstairs.

While he fought every filthy-minded inclination in his body, Daryl took a seat on the edge of your bed. Averted his eyes from your fingers and swallowed.

“Hey.” He nudged you.

You flinched with the soft intrusion and opened your eyes to look at him.

Instead of finding your touch replaced as they normally would be, you felt your fingers pried from between your thighs and clasped in both of Daryl’s hands.

Then, gently, a touch trailed down your fourth finger. Daryl stopped at the thin silver band adorning its base and wriggled it between his own forefinger and thumb.

“Can ya tell me what this is?” he murmured.

You eyed him uncertainly before looking down at the ring yourself.

“A promise ring,” you answered quietly.

“A promise to who?” Daryl pressed.

“My— uh, my future husband.”

Daryl squeezed the petite metallic flower that was melded to the ring, pressing it between his fingers as if to prove a point.

“Gettin’ hitched any time soon?” he quizzed, a hint of a smile rising to his lips.

“No, but—”

“So you’ve got this hypothetical husband you’re promisin’ yerself to, hm?” Daryl plodded on, pretending not to hear you, “And that thing yer promisin’, it must be pretty important, ain’t it?”

You rolled your eyes and started to pull away, but Daryl made sure to keep your hand locked in place. When you didn’t answer, he pushed the question again—“Sumn’ real, real special, no?”—laced with a little extra venom in his words.

This time, you were the one to feign ignorance, opting instead to shuffle back in the sheets and play stupid as you retreated into the comfort of your bed. Daryl loosened his grip, but not before he’d plucked the ring from your finger. Then he mirrored your movements and made his way up your body, proceeding to plant his hands on either side of your head on the pillow.

Somewhere in the mix, he’d taken your ring between his teeth. He displayed it proudly above you with a smile.

“C’mon, hon. Tell me,” he coaxed between gritted teeth.

When he sensed your tight-lipped pout wasn’t about to budge, he took the ring out of sight and seemed to move off of you. As it was, he simply slid down your body and toward your parted legs. You tensed.

“Daryl,” you started to plead the moment he’d descended between your knees. He was already getting comfortable.

“It’s a very simple question, Y/N,” Daryl murmured, words a bit more distorted than usual.

You couldn’t bear the sight of him teasing you there but also seemed unable to tear your gaze away. You pulled at his hair, helplessly, and had only to beg him not to play these idiotic games. Unfortunately for you, Daryl’s competitive edge had taken a hit, and he was too taken with the thrill of the challenge to heed your wishes.

His mouth had moved dangerously close to your center. You could feel each gentle puff of his lungs fan across your folds.

Then, incredibly, you watched his tongue emerge from his mouth, and, instead of delving right into your heat, he let it rest between his lips, flashing something light and shiny on its surface.

Your ring.

This sick fuck.

“Give it back,” you snapped, clamping your legs over his stupid, smirking head.

One of Daryl’s palms pushed flat against your stomach, pinning you to the mattress so you couldn’t squirm out of reach. Perhaps you should’ve fought back, but in all honesty, you were too entranced by the sight of his tongue to think much else. A whimper caught in your throat the second he made contact with your wet, swollen core.

It seemed Daryl had maneuvered your ring over the tip of his tongue and was dragging a line up your slit. Pushing the metal petals of the flower against your clit, drawing soft, placid circles, and looking you dead in the eyes all the while.

Then he dipped below to your dripping hole and pushed the ring inside of it.

Daryl lifted his head and licked his lips.

“Wanna tell me now?” he grinned.

Your mind was buzzing a million miles per minute, spinning so fast you feared you couldn’t speak, but somehow, you managed to stammer out:

“Chrysanthemums.”

You bit your lip and watched him wait for you to catch your breath. You could scarcely collect your thoughts fast enough to finish.

“The flower— i-it means fidelity, or something. Mom says the ring’s supposed to be a sign of my commitment to my husband.”

Daryl raised his eyebrows.

“And ya know just what yer committin’ to the lucky bastard?” he asked.

You shook your head. Honest, this time.

In response, Daryl moved a finger to your entrance and dragged it in a gentle circular motion, careful not to disturb the ring he’d pushed inside.

“Tha’s it,” he said, his voice almost lowered to a whisper, “Tha’s the spot, honey.”

He locked eyes with you once more, and suddenly, you understood. All the apprehension and dread, distress, and foreboding decorum surrounding that floral token. Every thinly-veiled euphemism from your mother and father and the soft, assuaging delicacies crafted to fall on deaf ears. The answer was with you all along and somehow the furthest thing from your comprehension.

“My...cherry?”

Daryl nodded and chuckled. He took the ring back on the tip of his finger and started to push it farther inside of you.

“Your virginity,” he said.

When you flinched at the feeling, Daryl straightened himself up and brought his other hand to rub your thigh. Sitting across from you now with a touch of concern straining his features.

“I won’t really touch it ‘less ya want me to,” he mumbled, eyes flickering between yours in earnest.

“You can,” you said softly, perhaps a little too quickly, “Just don’t...pop it, okay?” His previous declaration danced before your mind in flashing letters.

Daryl bit back a smile and assured you he wouldn’t.

The two of you were perched on your bed, seated face-to-face and staring down at the small space between you. Cautiously, almost, Daryl came to slide his finger further inside your body, and at the last you watched the whole thing disappear right down to the knuckle.

You waited. Daryl looked up to find your gaze, and you stared back, almost afraid to blink.

“I ain’t no doctor or nothin’,” Daryl began, slowly, “But yer cherry’s s’posed’a be up there.” He wiggled his finger to punctuate his point.

“What is it?” you breathed.

That was a good question. Daryl sat and contemplated his options, how he might politely explain things to you. In the end, he settled on saying,

“Just skin, really.”

“Skin?”

“Yeah, uh, somethin’ called a high-men, I think. Just a stretch’a skin in the middle of yer...cunt, or whatever, and, uh, I guess it gets all tore up when the—” Daryl cut his speech short, cursing himself for getting so thick in the weeds of it without the slightest idea as to how he would explain that dreaded next part.

“Tore up when? Why?” Your eyes widened.

“No, no, not tore up or nothin’—I didn’t mean it like tha’ —I’m just sayin’ it gets popped. By a...a, you know…”

“I don’t know, Daryl, tell me,” you cried, your voice already starting to shake.

Daryl slipped his finger out of your heat, floral ring and all.

This was a bad idea, he thought. You were already halfway in a panic, concocting the wildest notions in your mind of what horrors lay ahead. Daryl ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

“What pops the cherry, Daryl?” you pressed, trying to reign in your fear as you spoke.

Daryl peered down at the tiny ring atop his index finger and felt a pang of guilt. This wasn’t going how he’d planned. When his eyes wandered back to yours and first caught a glimpse of the apprehension welled up behind them, he knew he couldn’t drag this on any longer.

“Just a...guy’s, uh, private parts,” he said at last.

“The puffy stuff?” you returned promptly.

Daryl nodded, almost charmed by the term you’d given his penis, were he not so humiliated by this disaster of an anatomy lesson.

You heaved a sigh of relief and fell back on the bed.

“Thank fuck!”

Daryl shot you a curious look. Before he could ask what on earth you meant by that, you supplied him with an answer, rejoining,

“Thought you had to stick a knife up there or somethin’.”

“Why would I do that, dumbass?” Daryl’s nostrils flared.

“You tell me! You’re the one saying you’d tear me up,” you giggled.

Oh, I would, Daryl thought reflexively. He regained his composure in an instant and chided himself.

“Shit gets messy, tha’s all I meant,” he said.

You were quick to sit up again, the fear in your eyes shortly supplanted by intrigue. Inching closer to him.

“Show me how,” you grinned as your hands skimmed toward the seam of his jeans.

“Show you what?”

“How your puffy stuff works,” you said, exasperated.

“It’s a penis, Y/N!”

Daryl shot up from the bed before you could lay a finger on his crotch.

He knew you wanted to know but wasn’t quite sure you’d be pleased with what you’d see—your understanding of the male form, he’d come to realize, was even cruder than your knowledge of your own. What if you got one good look at his love gun and fled for your life?

If you were to handle it any worse than the way you’d reacted when he’d first told you his mouth wasn’t just good for talking, he’d have his work cut out for him.

At length, he grasped his belt buckle in one hand and kept your promise ring tucked snug on the other.

“If I show ya, y’promise not to scream or nothin’?”

You stood—or, rather, kneeled—at attention on the edge of the bed and nodded.

“Promise.”

“A’right then.”

Daryl had never felt so exposed, or vulnerable, taking a garment off his body. Each time he’d unbuckled himself and shoved his jeans and briefs down before, it was never to strip himself completely—just to free his cock and give him space enough to rut into whatever woman was willing to share his bed for the night. This was pushing his pants down his legs and actually stepping outside them, standing stock-still on the floor and hoping, foolishly, that you’d like the sight in front of you.

Fortunately for him, you loved it. Or, at the very least, seemed engaged.

Your lips unconsciously parted as the outline of his length came into view. You sucked in a breath. With your pupils blown wide and your mouth hanging open, drool liable to spill out any second, Daryl reckoned you looked a bit obscene. He liked it.

He was palming himself over his briefs in gentle strokes, taking his damn sweet time as he took a couple steps closer to you.

“Now tell me what this is called,” he said, watching you ogle every inch.

“A cock,” you answered.

Daryl almost choked on his spit. What happened to “puffy stuff” and all the rest of your innocent paranyms? Where the hell did you learn the word—

“Cock?” Daryl repeated.

“Yeah, like a rooster.” Smiling sweetly up at him.

“Who taught ya tha’ word?” Daryl’s voice broke out a little harsher than he intended, such that your smile came to fade, but he quickly repaired it with a brush of his knuckles on your cheek.

“You did, Dar,” you said, at the last.

“Me?”

“You’re always grabbin’ your junk and tellin’ people to suck your cock, I just figured—”

“Ah. Right.”

Daryl made a mental note not to get so shitfaced when you were around. And maybe educate you on the subject of blowjobs in a more delicate way, at a later date. For now, his focus was just on showing you his penis and hoping you wouldn’t run screaming.

By the looks of it, though, he didn’t suspect you’d have that problem. You quickly resumed your perch on the edge of the bed, staring and salivating at his clothed erection like it was the finest thing you’d ever seen.

Except you hadn’t seen it yet. Daryl was just then starting to hook his fingers under the waistband of his shorts and pull them down, all while watching for your first reactions.

When you saw small tufts of hair stemming from the base of his abdomen, you felt relief flood through you—thank goodness he had those too—and then the place underneath it was…something else entirely. The two of you shared similar patches of hair, and that was about it. In the place of a broad, empty plane of skin, you found a thick, reddish appendage. It was strange. The further Daryl tugged his briefs down his legs, the more you grew in your curiosity, ‘til the whole thing took you by surprise and snapped up against his stomach.

You saw the full length of his cock and almost couldn’t believe your eyes.

“You wanna put that whole thing inside me?” you said without thinking.

That hadn’t been quite the reaction Daryl had been expecting, but he’d take it over shrieking and fleeing any day of the week. He eyed you with an unusually amused look and nodded.

“Whole thing,” he repeated.

You gave him one last skeptical look before nodding too, seeming to accept your fate. You scooted back in the bed and squeezed your eyes shut as you started to spread your legs in a supine position.

“Go on then,” you said, “Let’s get this over with.”

This time, Daryl’s amusement materialized in an outright laugh, and he came crawling up beside you in bed. Then he climbed on top of you and nudged your nose with his, ‘til eventually you opened your eyes again.

“That ain’t how it works, sunshine.”

You glanced down at the fiery pink, worm-like attachment poking up between your bodies and wanted to hide. Not so much because the sight of it frightened you but because you couldn’t fathom it fitting inside your body—and actually feeling good. You thought back to the words your mother had once used to describe that ugly, loathsome process of pleasing your husband and couldn’t imagine this was something any woman wanted to do. Maybe Daryl had had you duped all along to think any differently.

A swell of heat rose to your cheeks when Daryl dropped his hand between your legs.

“See— yer gonna spread these pretty things and let me go back down for a bit,” he said, already sliding toward the foot of the bed with a smirk, “Need ya nice and wet, a’right?”

You grabbed his arms before he could go any further.

“No,” you shook your head fiercely. Then, seeing the look of confusion on his face, adding, “I-I need you up here. With me.”

Daryl nodded in understanding. He kept his fingers brushing light against your inner thigh and looked you deep in the eyes.

“We can do whatever y’want. ‘S’all up to you, hon.”

He paused to bring his hand back up to your line of vision, holding your tiny ring on the tip of his finger. Wordlessly, it seemed, asking for your permission. You regarded the thing for a few seconds or more, while he watched you, and eventually, your gaze flickered back to his. You left the band where it was.

“Keep it,” you murmured.

“Honey, I can’t—”

Daryl was already starting to pull the ring off in protest, but you stalled his hands. Grasping them, momentarily, and holding them between you two.

“I want you to have it,” you said, smiling, “Want you to wear it right here.”

You reached up and tugged the thin silver chain dangling from Daryl’s neck. He looked down, confused.

You didn’t give him the chance to say another word. Reaching behind his head for the little metal clasp, you unhooked it swiftly and took the necklace in your hands. Made quick work of the ring and slipped it onto the chain, eyed it for a moment, then held it back up to him. Before Daryl could blink, you’d moved to re-secure the clasp around his neck and pulled the spindly metal strand to the front. Now the necklace hung a bit heavier on his chest with the weight of your ring strung across it.

Your name just then started to bubble to the surface of Daryl’s lips, but you leaned in and kissed him before the sound ever reached you.

“Yours,” you mumbled, kissing him softly.

Daryl kissed you back and held you tight. He stifled a groan when your legs came to wrap around his waist.

“Ye sure, honey?” he breathed, hardly able to string words together as the blood surged straight to his cock.

You giggled at the sights and sensations your new position afforded you, feeling Daryl’s throbbing member against your heat and seeing him fight every urge to push it forward. This felt easier, somehow, just pressed to each other’s bodies while your limbs tangled together in the sheets.

Daryl kissed your forehead. Lowered his hips so his swollen, leaking cock came to rest between your folds.

Instead of recoiling or contorting your features in a fearful wince, you moaned. You felt your body move against him and spread your arousal up and down his shaft. Eyes half-hooded with pleasure, you rolled your hips and raked your fingers down his back, and Daryl swore he could’ve cum from the sight of that alone.

You didn’t know what the hell you were doing; you just hoped it was something he liked.

When he reached for your chin and brought you in for a kiss, deeper and more desperate than you’d ever seen before, you felt a twinge of pride—closely accompanied by a wave of desire. You opened your mouth in an effort to moan again and were welcomed instead by Daryl’s slick, roaming tongue.

There was a strange sort of pressure between your legs. Something prodding you softly, keen to breach the threshold of your entrance but stopping short every time. You glanced between your bodies and saw Daryl gripping his cock like a vice down below.

“Honey, I— fuck,” his voice broke off in a moan, skimming the head of his cock down your slit, “I don’t wan’ this to hurt.”

You placed a kiss on the side of his mouth and nuzzled your nose against the stubble residing around it.

“It won’t,” you whispered. In truth, you were clueless.

Daryl shook his head, straining with the weight of his body above you. There was something he’d missed, something he needed to tell you before the two of you took things any further. It seemed that somewhere along the line, his mind had hardened to an opaque wall of lust, and he couldn’t retrieve a single thought. All he could do now was peer down into your wide, glossy eyes and pine for you, all impulses escaping him but the singular urge to make you his.

“I want you,” you said, softly, “all the way inside me.”

You took the tiny metallic chrysanthemum dangling above you—your promise ring that was presently hanging from Daryl’s chain—between your lips, and sucked it in a little. Remembering how much he loved to watch you take things on the tongue and roll it around in your mouth, you did just that and kept your eyes locked on his all the while. You slipped the tip of your tongue through the ring, just as Daryl had, and brought it right back into your mouth. You moaned at the taste, your juices still coating the band.

Your silent invitation wasn’t lost on Daryl in the slightest. In a second, his lips were back on yours, snagging the ring between your two mouths in a hot, frantic kiss, and the pressure at your core jumped to new heights as the head of his cock split you open.

Daryl hadn’t been with a virgin before. He thought the process of “breaking” one in and popping the cherry, so to speak, was meant to be taken literally, so he shoved himself in to the hilt in one forceful thrust.

“Fuck!” you said in unison, for two drastically different reasons.

He seemed on the brink of orgasm and you, the brink of tears, clawing at his back and trying not to cry.

The second Daryl saw your agonized expression, he panicked and pulled right out, but the force of the friction only amplified the pain. You clutched the sheets beside you and tried to stifle your whimpers, suddenly fearful for your parents’ hearing.

“Fuckin’ A,” you hissed, “I thought we were going slow!”

“I-I’m sorry— I thought that’s what I was s’posed’a do.”

“You said pop the cherry, not stab it to death.”

In spite of the ache inside you, you managed a playful look up at him and even giggled when he started flooding your face with little kisses. ‘I’m sorry’s tumbling just as profusely from his lips, repeated over and over ‘til you were begging him to let up and get back between your legs already.

Daryl eased himself down more carefully this time. He cradled your head in his arms and seemed almost loath to push himself inside you again. It wasn’t until you nodded your assent that he stirred his hips at all, taking a painstakingly slow approach to breaching your folds.

You felt the tip of his cock graze your entrance. Rub lightly up and down your slit to collect more of your juices.

“Tha’s a good fuckin’ girl,” Daryl growled, overwhelmed by the warmth of your arousal pooling around his cock. Remembering his position, however, he refrained from going any further.

“Is it wet enough?” you murmured.

“Uh-huh,” Daryl panted, gripping the sheets beside your head to keep from moving before you were ready. Then, softly, “I’ll be gentler this time, I promise, baby.”

You spread your legs a little wider and nodded. Dug your heels into his lower back to try to ease him in. Daryl readily aided your efforts and started pressing the head of his cock to the edge of your tight, aching hole.

He couldn’t have penetrated you any gentler if he tried. In spite of how wet you were, there still came a sting, and you seized his forearms the farther he pushed. Only this time Daryl was all eyes, watching and waiting and looking you up and down like another inch of his length might tear you in two. He sponged wet kisses up and down your jaw and hoped the brush of his lips would come as a welcome distraction from whatever discomfort you were suffering below.

Moreover, he found that talking you through it helped loosen your muscles. Whether you were aware of it or not, your were clenching hard on his cock, scarcely taking him more than an inch and unlikely to allow him any further if your walls stayed this rigid. Daryl started stroking your hair.

“So good f’me. So nice an’ sweet takin’ this cock,” he said, tone as tender as it had ever been.

You grimaced at the intrusion of another inch and held the back of his neck between your two hands even tighter. Daryl lowered his head to kiss you again.

“Sweetest thing I ever seen.” He pulled away to marvel at you, all flushed cheeks and quiet sighs.

It was clear you were just trying to survive with your consciousness intact, too focused on breathing and easing him in to think much else, so he nudged your chin to mumble even more quietly, “S’all gonna be okay, hon. I’m right here for ya.”

“Oh, I feel ya here. I know,” you quipped between labored breaths.

Before you could venture a smirk, you felt your walls start to pulse. The gentle throb of your warmth beckoned Daryl further into your cunt, and the two of you moaned at the sensation.

Your eyes shuttered closed, while Daryl’s drifted down below.

“Sonovabitch,” he said in a breath.

His gaze came to a stop and stayed glued on one small, absurd sight in particular: a bulge along your stomach.

He almost couldn’t believe what he was seeing until he withdrew his length a little and saw the swell follow his movement. He watched the outline of his cock protrude from your belly, ran his fingers over the mound, and rutted his hips again, this time feeling it move under his own hand. Daryl was beside himself.

He placed his palm over the spot and pressed hard. He thrusted back and forth and heard a string of expletives sound beneath him as your eyes snapped open.

“Fuck, Daryl,” you whined, “What is that?”

“Cunt’s barely able to keep me in, I’m pokin’ out yer belly.” Daryl would’ve chuckled if he weren’t so violently aroused.

You threw your head back on the pillow and moaned. This new, added pressure above your stomach somehow made things better for you, like a spot inside was getting just the kind of touching it needed. You squirmed against Daryl and felt him bottom out inside you.

The two of you were watching it now, forehead to forehead—Daryl’s fingers spread across your tummy and the heel of his palm digging deep in that mound, your bodies making wet, squelching sounds again and again, and your pussy, for the first time, swallowing him whole. Daryl quickened his pace to an almost vicious cadence and brought his free hand to cup your face.

He jerked your head even closer, fingers knotting tight in your hair, “See this?”

You were barely able to nod as a knot of pleasure was just then starting to form in your stomach.

Daryl wasn’t having it. You felt his nails dig a set of white, angry crescents in your neck as he pulled your hair even harder.

“Big girl words, darlin’— use ‘em.”

You yelped when he yanked your head up to meet his gaze and shook you with a particularly brutal thrust down below.

“I see it!” you shrilled.

Daryl’s hand slipped from the back of your head and took your face in one pinch—almost crushing both cheeks and squeezing your lips in a ridiculous pout to look up at him. Then he smiled, sweet as ever, and placed a light kiss on your mouth.

“Are you a— a woman of yer word?” he asked.

His thrusts continued at breakneck speed. You whined.

“Huh?”

“Keep promises ya make?”

Daryl smiled even wider as he watched you come unraveled before his eyes. One hand placed on your stomach and the other still gripping your face, he made his merciless rounds and savored every last throb of your walls as he pounded you into the mattress. He knew those whines, could sense that that hold on his cock wasn’t just for show. You were close, and dangerously so.

You could scarcely speak above the buzz in your ears but managed to answer in the affirmative.

“Good,” Daryl cooed in your ear, “It’s settled, then.”

If you weren’t mere seconds from your release you would’ve told him that you couldn’t quite understand him with his head so far up his ass. The man was a Grade A prick when it came to telling riddles and senseless tales at the most inopportune times, but this one really took the cake.

Fortunately, Daryl proceeded without requesting any further input from you. He just pistoned his hips, pressed on your belly, and squeezed your cheeks even tighter as he continued on in a casual tone,

“Gonna cum all over this cock?”

You moaned and said you would.

Your legs tightened around Daryl’s waist as he groaned above you and slammed into you even harder.

“Gonna be my good little girl?” he growled, dropping his hand from your face to rub circles on your clit.

You shrieked and swore you would.

Daryl continued to rut his hips and nudge you closer and closer to the cusp of your release, eyes never leaving you. With each ruthless thrust, you felt the knot inside you double in size and send tremors straight down through your thighs, and the only thing keeping you grounded in place, it seemed, was Daryl. He grinned.

Then he leaned even closer, forced your legs even wider, and fucked you faster than he ever had before,

“Gonna be my good little wife one day?”

His words had barely registered before something inside you burst, and you went moaning, writhing, screaming on Daryl’s cock as your orgasm tore through your body. More powerful than any feeling Daryl’s tongue had wrought from you before, this was pure, primal ecstasy. You feared you might actually draw blood from his back with the slash of your fingernails down his skin.

Your body fell limp in the bed. You would’ve liked nothing more than for Daryl to keeping moaning and pumping in your blissful, fucked-out state, but it seemed the man had plans of his own. To your surprise, he jolted out of you a moment later and seized his cock in one hand, wringing it out in the roughest, most slipshod fashion. Daryl let out a long, protracted moan and jerked himself over and over.

Ropes of a milky white fluid sprayed your stomach.

Your eyes widened at the sight, as did Daryl’s. Though his grew not for want of understanding but rather realizing that thing he’d forgotten to tell you earlier.

Babies.

“Shit,” he hissed, already lowering both hands to wipe the stuff off your belly.

You were frozen in place and eyeing the foreign goo like it was the most frightening thing in existence.

“W-What the fuck is—” you said, only to be cut short.

This time, both of you seized with horror as a knock sounded on your bedroom door. Daryl, actively caught cum-handed, had little more to do than dive under the covers while you flailed your limbs and tried to collect every last pillow around you.

Your duvet was thick. Pillows and plush toys aplenty. You could only hope Daryl would keep his long legs bent at the knee and his two feet from sticking out at the end of the bed. Your eyes darted to the door as it opened.

“Hi, mom,” you chirped.

“Hey, pumpkin.”

Your mother paced the few short steps into your room and toward your bed, a warm smile on her face.

“Boogeyman keepin’ you up?” she teased.

You reckoned you thought of Daryl a little more fondly than that, but your mom wasn’t too far off-target.

“All night,” you answered.

Your legs shuddered under the sheets as Daryl nudged your red and fucked-raw pussy with his nose. Clearly not amused.

Then, as your mom had long been accustomed to do, she reached out for your forehead and brushed your hair from your face. Planted a kiss at the top of your head.

“Well tell him to knock it off, because you’ve got a big, big day tomorrow,” she said, crossing her arms as she stood off to the side of your bed.

French lessons from one of your father’s friends and supper club with the girls. Riveting stuff.

You opened your mouth to say something in reply, but your mother was evidently keen to continue,

“Now I know you’ve got a lot on your plate—”

You stifled a whimper when the nose that Daryl had used to brush against your cunt was presently replaced by his tongue. Licking a calm, lazy strip up your slit as the rest of your mom’s speech reached you in a garble.

Slyly, you lowered a hand to the head of hair that was occupying the space between your legs and yanked a clump of it. Silently begging Daryl to cut the bullshit games before both of you got caught.

Daryl would do no such thing. He continued to flick the tip of his tongue across your heat before closing his lips around your clit, sucking gently.

“—missing for a day at least. Maybe even—”

You swallowed and nodded your head, trying to shield your mother from the fact that you and your newly-popped cherry were getting the tonguebath of a lifetime under the covers. Daryl had somehow managed to bring a hand up to your heat and was currently pumping his middle and ring fingers in and out of your hole at a brutal speed.

It wasn’t until your mom said one word in particular that either of you perked up and stopped what you were doing.

“—Dixon—” your mom babbled on until you broke in,

“Who?”

“Daryl Dixon. Went MIA and his brother’s worried sick. Found his crossbow in our backyard a little while ago, was just wondering if you’d seen him.”

Your stomach twisted. Daryl’s fingers stalled inside you.

“No ma’am, I-I haven’t,” you squeaked.

Daryl bit your thigh as if to say, “Liar.”

“Alrighty then, just checkin’.” Your mom clasped her hands together and turned on her heels, “He should turn up sooner or later. Get some sleep now, sweetheart.”

The door closing behind her was like music to your ears.

As soon as it shut, Daryl threw the duvet off and licked his lips in a smirk.

“You fucker!” you bit.

“You liar,” he sneered, climbing back on top of you quick. Careful to avoid the half-dried puddle of semen on your stomach.

“Hey, you never told me what this w—”

“Cum. Stuff I’m gonna shoot in yer belly, not on it, when yer good ‘n ready to have my babies,” Daryl grinned.

Ready? For babies? Your mind was still reeling from the absurdity of your previous predicament, heart all but beating out your chest, and this man remained totally unperturbed. Talking about breeding, of all things.

“There will be no babies had between us, Daryl,” you snapped, “That’s a husband privilege, and like you said, I’m not gettin’ hitched any time soon.”

The smile from Daryl’s face didn’t falter. He just leaned forward and gave you a look as if to say he knew better.

“Thought y’said you were a woman of yer word,” Daryl seemed to taunt as he ran a hand up your calf.

You didn’t bother to swat it away, just shot him a glare and muttered, “I am.”

“You are?”

Daryl moved in, a hint of a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Before you could say another word, you watched him hook one thumb in the ring that hung from his neck. Slid it back and forth across the chain and observed your eyes in wordless amusement as they followed its gentle path.

“You said—” Daryl started.

“Did not,” you returned.

“—and promised you’d—”

Your cheeks grew enflamed with a fierce, angry blush. There was no fucking way he wanted you to—

“Save it for your husband,” Daryl said, still flashing that shit-eating smile as he brought the ring between his lips once more, “And you gave it to me.”

This was undoubtedly the most deranged marriage proposal you’d heard in your life.

You rolled your eyes and reached for your promise ring now pinched between his teeth, ready to yank it off the chain altogether, when another intrusion sent you scrambling for the sheets.

Your bedroom door opened for a second time that night—this time to reveal your mother and father at the threshold of your room, stepping in without a knock.

“Hey pumpkin, I—”

“Shit.”

You ducked behind Daryl, and Daryl chucked the last droplets of cum off his hands in a flash.

You looked at him, he looked at you, and your parents stood terrified, staring at you both.

When Daryl’s gaze flitted up, you saw his jaw slacken considerably as his eyes fell on your father for the first time. The next thing you knew, your ring was trembling out of his mouth, his whole face draining of color. He swallowed, almost seemed to choke on his spit as his throat tightened up, and suddenly he was speaking, stammering, quietly, pupils blown wide in pure horror:

“Mr. Grimes, it’s not what it looks like.”

[jjunieworld]

the great bake off! ༘ ˚· 🍞 𓂅

read part two here ⇢ spilt milk ⋆｡˚

pairing: choi soobin x gn!reader

genre: fluff, strangers to lovers, bakery au, baker!soobin and non-baker!reader, “competing”, slight banter, brief mention of blood, some sexual innuendos, soobin is super shy

synopsis: after getting fired from your job as a pizza delivery driver, you’re in desperate need to find a new job before you get kicked out of your apartment. that’s when you hear about the local bakery looking for employees. thinking, “why not? i’ve worked with dough before!”, you apply and actually get the job. that’s when you and the son of the bakery’s owner decide that it would be fun to compete to see who can make the most baked goods for a prize.

word count: 8.6k┊part two┊masterlist

a/n: i’m a little late, but thank you all so much for 100 followers! here’s a little treat (lmao) expressing my gratitude! finally joining everyone in making a baker!soobin fic lmao… i got carried away so this is pretty long. i don’t even think it counts as a oneshot anymore but i hope you enjoy :) shoutout to the lovely @jjunberry for the florist!sunoo agenda ❀

“and don’t come back!” yelled the manager of the job you just got fired from. you took your apron and hat off and threw them on the ground in front of the establishment. you scoffed loudly, noticing the passing stares of the people walking outside and the judging ones of the customers inside.

“wouldn’t fucking dream of it!” you yelled back. the manager stepped back out of the doorframe, eyes wide, lip curled, and brows scrunched ready to retort. you cut him off with a middle finger and turned, angrily walking away to where your car was.

you didn’t need that stupid pizza delivery job anyways. half the time you weren’t even delivering pizzas because of how shitty they tasted. which wasn’t a fault of you, but a fault of your manager, who was also the owner.

majority of the time he had you in the back doing his job, making the pizzas, while he sat in the break room watching alpha male videos on his phone.

you slammed your door shut and rubbed at your temples. you had a tension headache and you couldn’t think.

“fuck!” you yelled loudly. what are you going to do now? you need a job so you can pay the rent of your shitty overpriced apartment. and you just knew you weren’t getting your last paycheck from your ex-manager.

sighing, you pull out of the parking lot next to the pizza place and head back to your apartment. you desperately needed a shower and to start job hunting as soon as possible.

you push open the door of your apartment and take a look around, thankful that you cleaned before you left. it was small, but it was home.

after your shower, you got a call from your best friend.

“what a fucking asshole!” sunoo exclaimed. you propped your phone up on the roll of paper towels as you began making something to eat. “but now you can come work with me!”

your face scrunched up. “i’d rather get evicted. love you though!” sunoo was a florist. there wasn’t anything wrong with that, but you could barely tell a daisy apart from a daffodil. and the thought of being surrounded by a bunch of different flower smells gave you another headache.

sunoo rolled his eyes. “fine then!” on your phone screen he raised his hands up and took a step back from the camera. “be broke then! don’t come crying to me when you’re out on the streets in the pouring rain waiting on a miracle when i’m offering you one right now!” you laughed at him.

“whatever! working with you is my last option though.” you put a pot of water on the stove for ramen. you really didn’t feel like making something elaborate after the day you had. “help me, sunoo! start listing off available jobs!”

he raised his eyebrow at you, “what makes you think i know what jobs are available and what jobs aren’t? go on google!” you rolled your eyes at him. he chuckled at you. “i did hear that that bakery downtown was looking for new employees, though.”

you raised your eyebrows at him, an ‘i told you so!’ smile on your face. he just rolled his eyes at you. “are they? i’ll have to call them. that’s a job for tomorrow y/n, though. i am so fucking tired.”

“i’d be tired too if i acted like a menace everyday,” sunoo replied. you shot him a look. “i do not act like a menace!”

“this is your second job in like three months… who are you? trish from austin and ally?” you gasped, putting a hand to your chest in somewhat fake shock. at least trish got a new job easily. it took you forever to find that pizza place job, and even longer for you to actually start working. you very nearly actually almost did get evicted if sunoo hadn’t stepped in and helped you.

“goodbye! i love you!” you said and leaned on the counter towards the counter. sunoo gave the camera a kiss and you jumped away in mock disgust. “bye, i love you!”

you ended your call and sat down to eat the ramen you made. sighing, you shoveled the noodles into your mouth. you really hoped that you got hired at this bakery. you didn’t know what you were gonna do if you don’t.

the next day you were up bright and early in the morning ready to call the bakery. you scoured google to see what the number was and after a couple misdirects you finally found it. your hands shook slightly as you pressed the phone to your ear and listened to the rings.

“hello, nap of a star bakery! if you are calling for a custom pie, orders will be pushed until next week!” a deep voice said over the line. your eyebrows raised slightly in shock and you hesitated for a moment as you thought of your next words.

“hello! i was actually calling to ask if you were hiring,” you replied. there was slight shuffling on the phone. “hello! yes, we are! have you picked up an application from the bakery? i can also email you a pdf version of it if you choose.”

you thought for a moment. it couldn’t hurt to go down and actually check the place out before deciding to work there. you did not need another repeat of the arcade job again.

“that’s okay! i can come down to the bakery for it!” the voice gave you an, “okay, have a good day!” and you hung up the phone after repeating them. you got your things together and left your apartment.

it took you a good minute to find the bakery. sunoo even had to text you directions. you recalled that the bakery was new and local. it was tucked away in between two buildings on the corner of the street. you parked your car and stepped your way towards the door.

the bell above the door rang as you pushed it open and stepped inside. behind the counter, a very tall dark-haired guy stood covered in flour rolling dough in a bowl. his head snapped up at the sound and a friendly smile plastered on his face. he pulled the gloves off and sat them next to the bowl. then he came up to where the cash register and a monitor were.

“hello! how may i help you?” he asked, rolling up his falling sleeves.

you took a look around the establishment. it was actually very nice. behind him, a chalkboard of everything their selling was written in an array of different colors. different baked goods were on display under the counter where the guy stood. there was also a door behind him to the back. natural light filtered in from the big windows at the front of the shop, highlighting the light minty colored walls and hanging stars. wooden tables and chairs with quilted seat covers tied to them were scattered around the open space. the overhead lighting was subtle and not harsh like so many other bakeries were. all in all, the bakery was very cozy.

“hi,” you smiled, “i called here not too long ago. about the applications?” his face lit up in realization and his mouth formed an ‘o’ shape. he started to move around the counter.

“ah, yes! the applications! i can get you a pen if you want to fill it out here?” he asked as he grabbed the application from one of the tables near the door and turned to hand it to you. “assuming you brought your resume…” he then trailed off, a shy smile on his lips.

thankfully you did bring your resume. you took the application from him. “i did, actually, thank you!” he nodded slightly to himself and he walked back over to the counter and grabbed a pen from a cup next to the keyboard. he handed that to you as well. “here you go!”

you sat at one of the tables a little ways away from the counter. customers began filing in for orders as you filled the application out. all the motion was distracting you and you couldn’t help watching the dark-haired guy work.

he seemed to move fluidly from taking an order, pressing it all into the monitor, and either retrieving it from the back or display. you didn’t even realize he was also making more things while taking and completing orders until you saw him furiously trying to get the flour off himself when there were no customers around. you giggle lowly to yourself and finally finished filling the application out.

his back was turned to you as you walked up to the counter. he was still trying to get the flour off of him but was spreading it all over his clothes and apron instead. “uh, i finished the application,” you said softly. he jumped and quickly turned to you, an embarrassed smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

you stacked your resume with the application and handed it to him with the pen on top. he took it from you and sat it next to the keyboard.

you got the chance to get a look at his name tag attached to his brown and mint apron. the pretty signature with a shooting star next to it told you that his name was soobin. you got a good look at his face. he was quite pretty, even covered in flour.

he laid his hands flat on the counter and leaned towards you slightly. “okay, so your application will get registered and we should be with you within the week!” he told you, giving you another friendly smile. you returned it. “thank you!”

“have a good day!” you shot his words back to him and left the bakery, making your way to your car.

it was torture waiting for the email to know if you got the job or not. you were sitting in the chair behind the counter at chaconne, the flower shop that sunoo worked at, eyes glued to your phone as you kept refreshing your inbox.

“refreshing your inbox every five seconds isn’t going to make the email appear faster.” sunoo said as he arranged different flowers into a bouquet.

you sighed and slouched in the chair. you guess he was right. it’s only been a couple of days and it seemed like soobin was the only employee.

after sunoo wrapped the flowers and tied it off, he turned to you. today was a slow day in the shop, hence why you were behind the counter. not that sunoo’s boss minded, mrs. jeon loves you.

“so… anyone cute working at the bakery?” he asked, smirking. you looked up from your phone and chuckled. “there’s only one employee, at least i think. he was cute, in fact!” you replied. sunoo’s face lit up.

you tilted your head at him, you knew that look. that was his matchmaking look. “absolutely not,” you quickly said before he could open his mouth. “i need to keep this job if i do get it.” he brought his shoulders up.

“it’s gonna happen anyways. what else are the both of you to do in there together except get to know each other?” he brought his shoulders down and then leaned towards you, eyes wide. “what’s his personality like, tell me! he’s a baker right? duh, of course he is. i bet he’s a softie.” sunoo started rambling, mainly to himself.

you held your hands up. “woah, i met him for a total of like twenty minutes. i don’t have that information.” sunoo sighed and turned back around as customers entered.

you kept refreshing your phone, making small talk with sunoo as he made more bouquets. suddenly, you heard a ‘ping!’ sound and your eyes snapped to your phone to see the notification. “oh my god! it’s from the bakery!” you exclaimed. sunoo came over to you and leaned down next to you to see your phone. “well open it!”

you did just that and almost screamed from excitement had it not been for sunoo covering your mouth and looking around the shop at the lingering customers. “i’m not gonna get evicted!” you exclaimed and sunoo laughed as he rang up another customer.

it was your first day of working at nap of a star bakery and you were standing next to soobin and the owner of the bakery as your training started. it turns out that soobin was the son of the owner, and so far it was just the two of them at the shop. well, now the three of you.

“i’m so thankful you put in an application, y/n dear. it’s been difficult running the bakery with just my boy. your extra hands are very welcome!” mrs. choi told you, smiling warmly. you noticed the light blush across soobin’s cheeks as he rubbed his hand over his face. you smiled warmly at mrs. choi, “i’m very thankful you decided to hire me!”

she put you and soobin to work in the back room, starting on the goods, as she dealt with the customers up front. soobin began showing you how to make the dough for snickerdoodles. you stood side by side in your matching aprons and gloves.

“you want to make sure that you add enough flour so the consistency isn’t super sticky.” soobin said as he showed you the amount of flour to put into it. you let out a brief laugh.

“this isn’t my first time baking, i got this.” you gave him a confident smile. he raised his eyebrows.

“okay then… all you!” he took a step back from the bowl and you took one towards it.

you made snickerdoodles before. at least, you think you did. they were a pretty popular cookie to make, surely you’ve made them at least once in your life before. you cracked the eggs soobin had put out into the bowl. soobin had already added the butter, so it was up to you to figure out the rest of the ingredients.

thinking of what usually goes into cookies, you started reaching for different things. you eyeballed the amount you put in.

“oh! that’s not— you should really measure the ingredients!” soobin suddenly exclaimed. you felt his watchful eyes on you as you worked. you waved a hand behind you. you had this.

once you got all the ingredients in, you dug your gloved hands in and started mixing. there was sputtering from soobin behind you, but you ignored him. the dough was really sticky, so you took soobin’s words from earlier and reached for the flour.

the flour suddenly quickly poured out from the bag, way too much of it falling into the bowl. “oops!” you muttered, setting the bag back down, getting sticky dough everywhere. you dug your hands in again and started mixing until the dough was firm. you picked some up and rolled it into a small ball, then dipped the outside of the ball into the sugar and cinnamon mixture soobin has already set out.

you continued the process a few more times, struggling with the crumbling dough, until you filled the pan. you peeled off your gloves and picked the pan up, walking over to where the stoves were, a dumbfounded soobin trailing behind you.

mrs. choi popped her head in from the door and asked you both how it was going. you both turned. “it’s going great!” you beamed, pan still in hand. she gave you both a satisfied smile and went back to the front.

you put the pan of cookies in the oven. setting it to 415° you thought aloud at the amount of minutes you should set the timer for. “i think ten minutes should be good. or maybe fifteen? i’ll do fifteen just to be sure!”

once that was all settled, you dusted off your apron and turned to soobin, who was staring at you with wide eyes and mouth agape. “see, i told you. i got this! so what’s next?” your question must’ve snapped him out of his daze.

“oh— uh… you know— let’s just wait until the cookies are done. then we’ll continue.” he stuttered. you shrugged, stepping away from the stoves to get new gloves.

the timer dinged and you grabbed an oven mitt to take the pan of cookies out of the oven. you sat the pan on the cooling rack as you turned the oven off. soobin came near you and leaned over the freshly baked cookies, inspecting them. they were a pretty deep golden brown.

he grabbed the nearby metal spatula and went to lift one of the cookies to look under it. the cookie completely crumbled as he did. the inside was burnt. your mouth dropped in shock.

soobin looked over to you, his hand with the spatula still hanging in the air. he straightened, “so… let me show you how to actually make snickerdoodles. so that they don’t turn out like… this.” he motioned with the spatula to your failed cookies.

you nodded and couldn’t help but laugh. soobin hesitated before joining in with you. “this was a disaster, i’m sorry.” you said, covering your mouth. soobin took another look at the cookies before throwing them away in the nearby trash can. he looked back to you, “are you sure you’ve baked before?”

an embarrassed smile spread on your face. “no, not really. i mean i’ve made those cookies from the packages where you just have to add water…” soobin gave you a bemused look. he shook his head slightly and motioned you over to where the ingredients were.

standing next to him, he began guiding you on how to actually make snickerdoodles, you following his instructions. when you were about to do something wrong, like stick your gloved hands in the bowl to mix the dough again, he would stop you and tell you how to actually do it. “instead of mixing it with your hands, you want to take this—“ he held up a straight spatula “—and fold the dough instead.” soobin demonstrated for you as he spoke.

you nodded, following along. soobin stopped his motions and handed you the spatula. you took it from him and picked up from where he left off, folding the dough. once everything was mixed, soobin softly clapped. you laughed in amusement.

he pointed to the dough, “see how it’s not super sticky and not as firm and crumbly as yours was? that’s the consistency you want. this is the consistency that you’ll mainly be working towards when baking anything.” he picked up a small amount of dough and began rolling it between his hands. you copied his actions, and then rolled the ball into the sugar and cinnamon mixture.

after filling the pan, once again, soobin took the pan over to the oven and placed it inside. he turned to you, a reassuring smile on his face. “you don’t want to put it on too high or keep the cookies in for too long.” he put the oven on 350° and set the timer for 8 minutes.

“if you feel like maybe they’ve been in for too long, then you can go ahead and check them. i usually use a toothpick and the spatula to check the consistency and to make sure the bottom isn’t burnt.” soobin said. he did just that and backed away, his mouth forming a satisfied grin. nodding, you took in all the information he had just taught you.

that’s how the rest of your shift went. soobin walking you through how to make various baked goods. once you felt like you could start working on your own, soobin would move on to work on something else. here and there he would give you his input, and you’d apply it to whatever you were making. you and soobin made small talk as you worked, getting to know each other until it was time for you to start cleaning up.

you were absolutely covered in flour and dried dough. thankfully, once you and soobin we’re done with one baked good, you would clean whatever you used and the area before starting the next thing. so it wasn’t as messy as you were initially expecting the end of the day to be. you stripped your gloves off and threw them into the trash, soobin doing the same.

the two of you stood at the sink, him washing the dishes and you drying and putting them away. “i have an idea,” you said, breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you. soobin looked over to you, shaking his head a little to get their hair out of his eyes. he raised an eyebrow in question. “tomorrow we should see who can make the most stuff. like a competition! we can compete and whoever makes the most goods at the end of the week can win a prize or something! i don’t know, we can workshop the idea.” you exclaimed, you gave him a big hopeful smile as you rinsed and dried the dish he handed you.

“compete?” he asked. you nodded. he hummed as he thought. “okay! how are we gonna tally up points?” you put the whisk back in the drawer as you thought.

“each baked good can be a certain amount of points! like cakes and pies are three, pastries and cupcakes are two, and cookies and whatever else are one?” you looked at him, head tilted. “we can keep track on the chalkboard!” you then pointed over to the chalkboard next to where the door to the front of the bakery was. right now, it had a half erased list of what the two of you needed to make on it.

“okay!” soobin smiled. “let’s do it!” you squealed a little and ran over to the chalkboard, erasing the list on it. “hey! you’re suppose to be helping me wash dishes!” soobin laughed. you ignored him as you wrote.

on the chalkboard you wrote soobin and y/n in capital letters, drawing a line between your names and under them so it formed a table. “today doesn’t count since i was learning.” you spoke, placing the piece of chalk back on the little rack and turning to him. he looked back at you as he washed the dishes, grinning. you returned to his side and rinsed the dishes that he piled up.

“it’s on!” you said and glanced over to him. he laughed and shook his head. “in your wildest dreams.”

sunday rolled around quite fast and the bake off competition between you and soobin was at an all time high. currently, soobin was winning with a total of sixty-seven points. you were close behind him with sixty-six points. you were rushing to finish the cookies you were making for another point. the timer on the oven sounded off and you jumped in excitement, pulling out the freshly baked perfect cookies.

“another point for me!” you exclaimed, walking over to the chalkboard and adding a tally under your name. you turned to soobin with a wide grin. “now we’re tied!”

“because you keep cheating! all you’ve been doing the whole day is making cookies!” soobin spoke as he frosted a cake order meant for a birthday. on the top, the cake read “happy birthday honey!” with yellow and orange swirls and hearts. your grin widen and you gave a smug shrug. “step your cookies up before you crumble!”

soobin playfully scoffed at you and went back to adding intricate tubing to the cake. you leaned over it, watching him work. “i would be ahead of you right now if you didn’t take all the cakes and pies.” you mumbled, loud enough for him to hear. he chuckled at you, staring over at you for a brief second.

“i’ll let you have the next one,” soobin said softly. he added the last bit of tubing on the cake before the door to the front opened. mrs. choi came in with a small piece of paper in hand. you and soobin turned towards her in unison.

“another order for one of our famous blueberry pies!” mrs. choi exclaimed as she wiggled the paper. she pinned it on the cork board next to the chalkboard with your scores and went back up to the front.

you and soobin looked back to each other, frozen. you saw the gears in his brain turning as you stared into his eyes. in the short week you’ve gotten to know him and the competition you’ve both started, you learned to read the look in his eyes when he’s up to something. narrowing your eyes slightly, you shifted your body ever so subtly to the cork board just in case you needed to make a break for it. a slight smile tugged at the corners of soobin’s mouth.

“it’s all you,” he said lowly. your eyes narrowed further and cautiously you took a step, eyes locked on him. taking another, and another until you reached the cork board, you let your eyes slip from him and his wide smile. the bag of frosting still in his hand.

snatching the piece of paper, your eyes scoured over it hungrily, taking in all of the information. a mischievous smile spread across your lips as you read further and saw that the order also called for four blueberry and lemon puffed pastries. you were so winning this battle.

you felt a breath on your neck and turned to see soobin looming over you. you quickly pressed the paper to your chest and faced him, a gasp escaping your lips.

“cheater! you said you were gonna give me this one!” an amused smile took over your mischievous one. soobin held a cake box, cake inside, in his arms. he lifted his shoulders, a laugh shaking them.

“you were taking too long for it to be a simple blueberry pie.” soobin set the cake box on the table by the door to the front. he then put a finger to his lips and tapped it cartoonishly, eyes looking up to the ceiling as he hummed. “and did i say i was going to give you this one?” you nodded quickly.

“i lied,” soobin said. he then dashed to the table where the ingredients were. you dashed after him, trying to start the pie before he did.

the two of you moved frantically around the large kitchen, running into each other and stumbling over things sitting on the floor. you quickly whisked together cornstarch and sugar as you ran to the fridge. pushing soobin out the way with your hip and spilling a little bit of the mixture over you, you retrieved the fresh blueberries with your free hand and ran over to the stove.

soobin already had a saucepan on the stove ready with the heat on. water and lemon juice already inside. you tipped the cornstarch and sugar mixture inside as well, half of it landing on the stove top rather than in the pan. you grabbed the spoon next to the stove and began furiously mixing before you felt hands around your hips. soobin pulled you away from the stove and to the side as he snatched the spoon from your hands and started mixing himself.

a giggle escaped your lips as you turned back to the ingredients table and finished the dough he started. it was already done since it had been refrigerated yesterday. you grabbed the rolling pin and flattened the dough out, making sure to flour the surfaces so the dough doesn’t stick. saving enough of the dough for the lattice of the pie, you pressed the remaining dough into a pie plate that you quickly grabbed. you then trimmed and fluted the edges.

you ran to get a circular knife. soobin must’ve finally noticed that you weren’t hovering around him and turned to see what you were doing, a confident smile on his lips. the smile dropped when he saw that you already had the base of the pie ready. soobin dropped the spoon on the counter next to the stove and dashed to where you were cutting strips into dough.

soobin tried to push you out the way with his hip but you dug your feet into ground and pushed him back. you started cutting the dough faster, the strips coming out sloppy and uneven. majority of them weren’t even the same length.

“accept defeat!” you laughed as you moved soobin’s prying hands away from the dough. the kitchen was filled with laughs and soobin poked a finger into your side, making you jump. “not when i’m so close to glory!”

“let me have this like you said you would!” you exclaimed. you were coming up on the last strips that you needed for the pie. it was hard to cut the dough when soobin kept grabbing at it. giggling, you pressed the circular knife back into the dough moving hurriedly when you got another shove from soobin’s hip.

the circular knife suddenly nicked your finger and you jumped back, dropping the knife, as blood began flowing from the wound. you both freeze and suddenly soobin is grabbing your hand with the bloody finger.

unconsciously, soobin puts your bloody finger in his mouth. all movements freeze as you stare at each other with wide eyes. not even breathing could be heard. the two of you are covered in various different ingredients and the kitchen around you is a mess.

soobin slowly takes your finger out of his mouth, his eyes widening by the second. your heart starts to beat rapidly at the exchange. heat warms up your face in full force and you can see the redness creep up from the back of soobin’s neck.

“oh my god…” soobin finally says. he’s still holding your hand, but, thanks to him the blood is no longer flowing. “oh my god! i’m so sorry, y/n! that was a force of habit.” soobin repeats. you let out an anxious giggle.

“you usually put people’s bloody fingers in your mouth?” you ask teasingly. his cheeks are a deep pink and you giggle at the sight. your heart seems to be beating faster and faster with each passing moment. soobin breaks away from your gaze with great effort, embarrassment written clearly all over his features. the tension between you is high and you start to sweat in your loose clothes and apron.

“i’m so so sorry, i really did not mean to do that,” soobin says lowly. you break into a fit of giggles, amused by the whole thing. slowly, soobin joins you with hesitant chuckles. soon you’re both doubled over, stomachs hurting from laughing so hard.

you’re holding onto the table for support when soobin speaks again. “maybe… we should take a breather…” he trails and you nod in agreement, holding your stomach slightly. soobin takes your hand softly and leads you to the sink where the first aid is. he motions for you to wash your hands. as you wash them, he pulls out a bandaid and begins opening it. once your hands are dry, he gently takes them and wraps the bandaid around the shallow wound on your finger.

soobin smiles shyly at you, his hands still holding yours. “y’know what… you can have the pie.” the blush on his cheeks has spread to his whole face as he spoke. you giggle and nod, “yeah, i would like that.” soobin’s face lights up in sudden realization.

“oh my god! the pie!” he turns to the stove, letting go of your hands, as he runs over to it. he takes the saucepan with the blueberry filling off the heated burner and puts it on one of the ones that’s turned off. you jog over to him, you both inspect the filling as he takes the spoon and mixes it. it was a little thicker than you both intended, but it was fine. you look at each other and start laughing.

“here, you finish the pie, and i’ll start cleaning up. we both look like a mess.” soobin hands you the spoon with a grin and you take it. he tried wiping some of the flour off of him to no avail as he walked over to the ingredients table.

by the time the blueberry filling has cooled, soobin has cleaned the majority of the kitchen. you bring the pan with the filling over to the pie plate and pour it inside the crust, saving the remaining for the pastries. soobin had already gotten the pastries ready for you, so you used the remaining filling for them.

the lattice for the top of the pie came out shotty at best, but it wouldn’t matter once it baked. you put both the pie and the pastries into their own oven and set them to cook. you turned to soobin to see he was about to start washing the dishes.

“i’ll wash them,” you said. he’s basically cleaned the whole kitchen, it was the least you can do. you washed and dried the dishes, putting them back in their respective places. you leaned back onto the counter near the ovens next to soobin.

soobin had updated the chalkboard, adding his three points for the cake he made and your seven points for the pie and pastries. he bumped your shoulder with his. “you won,” he said softly. soobin then grinned and added, “this week.” you chuckled at him, turning to him slightly.

“so what’s my prize?” you asked. the two of you hadn’t actually come up with what the prize would be. you’ve both been too focused on making the baked goods to actually win. soobin’s eyes wided a fraction, blush once again reddening his cheeks slightly. “what do you want?”

you faced forward again as you thought about it. “i don’t know… what are you willing to give me?” soobin’s blush deepens, but you aren’t facing him to notice. after a moment with no answer, you looked over to him, awaiting an answer. his head is angled down and it’s subtly tilted away from you.

soobin let’s out a cough and wipes his face before looking back up at you. “uh— what— um… how about i bake you anything of your choosing?” he sputters. you smile at him, “anything? even if it’s difficult?” soobin playfully scoffed and waved a hand in the air before crossing his arms over his chest.

“nothing is too difficult for me! it can be anything! cake, pie, pastry, cookie, bread, whatever. puffed, filled, turnovers, upside down, layered, anything. whatever you choose!” you thought for a moment, then smiled warmly at him. “what about blueberry bread?” you asked. “but, like really fancy… in honor of my first win and for many to come!”

he laughed at the smirk on your face. “done! when do you want it?” you shrugged at him, “whenever you have the time.” he nodded, more to himself than to you.

you were excited to see how soobin made the blueberry bread. you giggled at the thought of him giving you a fancy set up for something as simple as bread. nodding back to him anyway, the two of you made your way to the front of the bakery to end your shift.

sunoo had an eyebrow raised as you recalled the previous day’s events. he was half listening to your rambling and half paying attention to the customer he was checking out.

“and then,” you said, literally sitting on the edge of your seat, “he put my finger in his mouth!” sunoo whipped around to face you, eyes wide. the customer, who was starting to walk away, froze in their spot, also staring widely at you. “i know,” you nodded.

“he didn’t mean to… he said it was a force of habit, but still. like what? my heart was beating so fast, sunoo, you don’t even understand!” you continued. the customer gave you a wide playful smile and a thumbs up before exiting the shop. sunoo gasped as he took your hands.

sunoo looked at the fresh bandaid on your finger intensely. he then leaned back and looked at you, a knowing smirk on his lips. “what did i say, y/n! what did i say!” he teased. “and what happened after that? you started taking off each other’s clothes?” your face heated.

“no! we went back to baking!” you smacked his arm. sunoo sighed loudly. “lame! you should’ve told him to fill something else.” he gave you a wink as another customer came in.

you covered your flushed face with your hands. “sunoo!” you harshly whispered. he just laughed at you.

when you went into the bakery for your shift that day, you were surprised to see that soobin had already prepared your prize. in the back, the ingredients table was decorated with a flowery tablecloth. there was a pretty lace doily under where the plate of blueberry bread sat. candles were lit and there was a small note that read: for the talented y/n y/l/n in a bold cursive font.

soobin then came up to you, he was dressed very nicely with a button up shirt tucked into black slacks. there was a matching black tie tied around his neck. he held a metal plate with a tea towel and wrapped silverware on it in one hand, the other arm pressed behind his back.

“for you, my dear.” he held the metal plate towards you in a bow. you let out a small laugh at the whole scene as you took the contents from the plate. heart skipping a beat. just then did you realize that soobin had drawn a cartoonish mustache on his upper lip. loud belly laughs erupted from you and you leaned against the table for support. “the mustache?” you managed to breathe out, it being followed by another fit of laughter.

soobin joined you, relaxing his stiff stance. he sat the metal plate on the table. “you said make it fancy! i made it fancy!” you giggled and nodded, “you sure did!” he motioned towards the blueberry bread with a white gloved hand. you had to stifle your laugh at it.

“well? go on and try it!” you smiled at him and grabbed the knife from the wrapped silverware he had given you. you cut a slice of blueberry bread off the loaf and sat it on the awaiting plate next to it. grabbing your fork, you waved it in the air with a giggle and then used it to grab a piece of the bread. you ate the piece and thought for a moment as you swallowed it.

“wow!” you said as you grabbed another piece, “this is delicious!” soobin smirked smugly and raised his hands. “what can i say? i’m actually gordon ramsey.” you choked a little on the bread as you erupted into laughter. “sure…” you trailed playfully.

it’s been a little over a month since you’ve started working at nap of a star bakery, and it has been the best job you’ve ever had thus far. the little competition between you and soobin had turned from small battles to a full blown war. the two of you were baking so much to garner extra points that the bakery had a bunch of overstock and mrs. choi had to tell you both to slow down.

in that time, you and soobin have grown closer than ever. “i’m starting to feel replaced,” sunoo had said to you the other day, after telling him how soobin cheated to win that week. the competition had gotten so serious between the two of you that you were now competing to see who was the better baker. you even brought sunoo to the bakery a couple of times to be the judge.

you and soobin were once again frantically running around the kitchen, this time fighting over who gets to bake the wedding cake a customer ordered. you held a large plastic tray in your hands, running over to the ingredients table when your foot caught on a bag of flour and you and the plastic tray suddenly went flying. hands quickly caught your waist and steadied you before any real damage could happen. the tray made a loud noise as it landed on the ground, startling you more.

you breathed heavily in shock as you turned to look at soobin, your eyes wide. “woah,” you said. you both broke out into laughter. “jesus, y/n, you almost just saw the light.” soobin’s hands were still on your waist as you turned to face him fully. “thankfully you were here!”

soobin removed his hands and your waist felt cold without them. “maybe we should just work together on this one…” he trailed as he looked around the mess of the kitchen. “i mean, this is someone’s wedding cake after all.” you nodded in agreement, chuckling a little. he smiled warmly at you.

reaching up to his face, you giggled, “you have flour on your nose.” you purposely wiped flour on him and he scrunched his nose a little, a small grin on his lips. soobin takes his flour covered hands and wipes them across your cheeks. “you have flour on your cheeks,” he says. you raise your eyebrows as you look at him.

the two of you are laughing softly as you stare at each other. you dip your hands into the flour sitting on the table and cup both of soobin’s cheeks with your hands. this is a side game you and soobin have started recently, going up to each other with flour and saying that the other has flour on them. it makes even more of a mess, and mrs. choi is always surprised to see you when you go back to the front of the bakery, but it’s fun.

you’ve been secretly drawing hearts with flour on him and giggling at his confused stare when you wouldn’t tell him what you drew. it was always in a place he couldn’t see or reach.

“can you guess what i’m about to say?” you ask him. you feel his cheeks lift into a smile and see his dimples pop out. he starts laughing, “you have flour on your cheeks?” giggling at him, you squeeze his face a little.

“you have flour on your cheeks.”

you’re mere inches away from each other. somehow, soobin’s hands have found their way back to your waist and you’re both giggling as you stare into each other’s eyes. once the giggles subside and nothing but smiles are left, you notice an emotion you can’t figure out swirl in soobin’s eyes.

your heart is beating rapidly in your chest as you realize your sudden closeness and you watch as soobin’s eyes briefly flicker down to your lips. inhaling, you decide to just go for it and act on your emotions. you bring your lips to soobin’s, pressing them together softly. his hands tighten slightly at your waist as he kisses you back.

the kiss is slow and intimate. for a while now you’ve been crushing on him, ever since the day he made you that blueberry bread as a prize. sunoo has teased you mercilessly about it, calling himself cupid even though he had no hand in your blossoming feelings. the times when you brought him to the bakery to judge, he would drop not so subtle hints about your crush. you had to always give him a harsh glare over soobin’s shoulder.

your arms wrapped around soobin’s neck, pulling him closer to you as the kiss deepened. your bodies were pressed up against each other. pulling away from the kiss slightly, you tried to breathe. your breath lightly fanned his cheek, lifting some of the flour off of it. soobin leaned towards you and kissed you passionately, his arms wrapping tighter around your waist.

when you broke apart, you both were breathing heavily, lips plumped at the sudden exchange. you smiled a little, “i’ve been waiting for you to do that.” soobin chuckled. “i’m sorry i didn’t do it sooner.” you both leaned in for another kiss but jumped apart when you heard the door to the front open.

mrs. choi took one good look at the two of you and shook her head in amusement. “how the two of you always manage to get covered in so much flour always amuses me!” she held up two small pieces of paper. “more orders! business is booming!” she laughed and the two of you awkwardly joined her. once she left, you and soobin looked at each other and started to laugh. you were absolutely covered in flour, mrs. choi was right. soobin nodded his head over to the abandoned dough you had started and the two of you began working on the wedding cake again. this time, together.

it was after hours at the bakery and you and soobin had your friends sitting at one of the tables at the front of the bakery so they could be the judges of who’s baked goods were better. you had met each other’s friends a couple times now through various judging events, so when you asked them to judge the final round to put it all to rest, they accepted.

today, you were going to find out just how much of a better baker you are than soobin. and you are gonna laugh in his face when everyone says how good your baked goods are. currently, you and soobin were in the back preparing your dishes. you had decided on a french profiterole cake while soobin had decided on a gâteau basque cake. you knew your cake was delicious, you had been practicing ever since you and soobin decided that you should have one last round to see who the greatest baker was.

soobin held a small plate out with a small slice of the cake he had made for the challenge out to you. you raised your eyebrows in shock and smiled up to him. “you trying to boost your ego before the judgment?” you asked as you took the fork from him and took a bite of the cake. your eyes widen at the flavor. “this is amazing, soobin! oh my god!” maybe you weren’t gonna win this after all…

soobin smiled warmly at you as he held up a small, rolled up piece of paper. you sat the plate down on the nearby table and took it from him, unrolling it. “be mine?” he asked, right as your eyes trailed over the same words on the paper. a smile broke out on your face and you stared up at him. he held another small plate on it, a small cake flower in the center. you giggled as you took the plate from him. “of course i’ll be yours!”

you sat the plate with the flower next to the plate with the slice of cake as you wrapped your arms around soobin’s neck, pulling him down into a kiss. he laughed softly against your lips and pulled you close.

“hello?” you heard a voice drag out from the front of the bakery. “when are we going to get to judge? i didn’t come here hungry for nothing!” you heard muffled voices and then a “shh! shut up beomgyu! what if they’re getting busy? you know how badly he needs that.”

giggling, you pulled away from soobin, giggling harder at his flushed cheeks. you held his hand and looked longingly at him. “you ready?” you asked. soobin nodded, then smirked a little. “you ready to get told you’re the second best baker?”

you rolled your eyes at him playfully, letting go of his hand so that you can grab your cake. the two of you brought your cakes out to the front and your friends erupted into claps. “finally!” soobin’s friend beomgyu had said. his arm got playfully hit by the guy next to him, who you’ve come to know as yeonjun.

“i love you, y/n, but if your cake tastes like shit i’m spitting it out and looking at you with the upmost betrayal. don’t embarrass me here after i’ve been talking you up!” sunoo teased as you and soobin sat your cakes down in front of them. you laughed at him, holding a hand to your chest in mock hurt.

there were already empty plates and silverware placed in front of all of your friends. “alright!” you started. “welcome to the great bake off! yes, the great british bake off was copyrighted… but that’s okay!” laughter sounded around you as you clapped your hands together. you looked over at soobin, “do you wanna go first or do you want me to go first?”

soobin shrugged. “i’ll go first.” he cut slices of his cake and put them each on your friends’ empty plates. “alright, you already know how the judging works. each judge will take a bite from the food and we’ll go down a line one by one for statements. dig in!” soobin spoke. your friends did just that, murmurs of how good the cake was coming from them.

“alright, kai, you’re up!” kai hummed and put a finger to his chin as he thought. “it was absolutely disgusting,” he said as he took another bite. “seriously soobin, what is wrong with you?” kai kept eating the cake as you all laughed.

taehyun nodded in approval, praising soobin for how good of a job he did with the cake. yeonjun stood from the table, did a cartwheel, and sat back down before calmly saying that it was delicious. you and sunoo stared at him with wide eyes as you saw the regret and slight embarrassment form on his heated face. beomgyu hummed, dramatically putting a finger to his lips and tapping as he kept taking more bites. he hummed again.

soobin walked up to him and grabbed him around the collarbones, shaking him slightly as everyone laughed. “it’s really good!” beomgyu said as he sat his fork down, plate empty. yeonjun shook his head at him. sunoo then cleared his throat, sitting up straight. “it was very delicious, but not as good as y/n’s cake!” he said. you laughed, “you haven't even tasted mine yet!” sunoo shot you a glare with wide eyes as he shushed you.

you cut up slices of your cake for the judges, putting one on each of their plates. they barely took a bite of your cake before they all jumped up from their seats and started loudly clapping. dramatically saying how wonderful your cake is and how their taste buds have never graced such perfection. you couldn’t help the laugh that spilled from your mouth at them.

“fantastic! you are truly are the best baker that ever lived!” taehyun exclaimed, clapping hard. “truly, truly. i mean, this cake is godly! higher than that even!” sunoo added as he dramatically took another bite and melted back down into his chair. you shook your head at them.

you looked over to soobin, pouting. he laughed softly at your acceptance of defeat. his cake was absolutely amazing…

soobin came over to you, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. you looked at him as he smiled down at you. playfully, you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms. soobin placed a kiss on the top of your head, leaning his head against yours as you both watched the dramatic appraisal from both of your friends.

© jjunieworld - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

taglist: @jjunberry @gothgyuu @spooksh0wbabe @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka

masterlist┊part two┊request rules ༘ ˚· ౨ৎ ฅ/ᐠ. ̫ .ᐟ\ฅ

[nickfowlerrr]

can you feel it?

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader (soulmate au)

warnings: really nothing but fluff. mentions of light baking burns. lmk if something needs to be tagged.

words: 2.3k

notes: this is my entry for @lunarbuck’s soulmate challenge. i used the prompt: you cannot feel pain until you meet your soulmate.🩵 and thank you to @dreamlandcreations for beta reading/editing my first draft!

Mmm, you hummed mindlessly. 

The sweet, warm aroma of your latest batch of pumpkin chocolate chip cookies swirled through your small bakery, filling your nose and eliciting a smile from you as you walked to the back counter, setting down the hot tray you were holding.

You slid off the oven mit you wore and tossed it carelessly before you spun around to get the last tray of dough in the oven.

Your fingers brushed the hot grate of the oven as you slipped the tray in, and though you couldn’t feel the pain or burn of it, you still mentally chided yourself for not being more careful. 

It was mid-September, that time of year when summer was still the season, but fall was all around. 

You had been messing with some seasonal recipes for the past few days and had most of your impending fall lineup set. You were going to start slow with the roll out, and today was the first day you’d have these cookies out in the display. 

You were a bit overly excited, but you hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that today would be a great day since you’d gotten up. Even Nickie calling to let you know she’d be late for her shift hadn’t dampened your mood. 

You sipped from the straw of your cold brew, floating aimlessly around the quaint space while you were waiting for the cookies to cool, the oven to go off, or a customer to walk in. You’d swept the floor and cleaned the counters and tables a good three times now despite their already pristine state. It was a slow day, but you knew not to expect many people until after noon.

You eventually found yourself staring out the large glass window at the front of the shop, looking out onto the picturesque town street, watching the few passersby and the leaves that were blowing around; the branches of the trees that lined the streets swaying gently in the late summer breeze. 

You weren’t sure why, but as you stood there gazing out the window, you suddenly found yourself growing eager, a sense of excitement coming over you. You felt like you were waiting for something…someone.

Just as the feelings were put into words in your mind, the ringing of the entrance bell sounded and pulled you from your thoughts. You tutted quietly at yourself before you turned and went to greet whoever it was.

You stopped short on your hello when you saw Nickie pulling off her cardigan.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” you said with a teasing smirk and a raised brow.

Nicki smiled guiltily, “Sorry,” she offered through a nervous titter, “Eli’s alarm didn’t go off, so we were both scrambling this morning.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you brushed off her apology, “it’s been pretty quiet so far.”

“It smells amazing in here, did you make the pumpkin cookies?”

“Last batch is in the oven right now,” you nodded with a grin. “There’s some in the display case already, grab one, tell me what you think,” you said, walking over to meet her behind the counter.

You grasped your hands together while you leaned against the side of the register, anxious to get her thoughts.

Nickie grabbed a cookie and just as she was about to take a bite, the bell on the door rang again. You turned, smiling to offer your usual, “Hello, welcome in!”, but your voice caught in your throat when you did, only managing out a half hello.

Your eyes met steel blue as the man who had just entered stalled in his path for a brief second. He blinked then and seemed to correct his posture, clearing his throat, eyes never leaving yours, “Hi,” he offered.

“Welcome in,” you breathed, voice much quieter than you intended it to be.

You couldn't seem to take your eyes off of him as he approached the counter. He was tall, well built with dark hair, and god, those eyes. You could swim in them, they were so blue. He looked effortlessly cool, wearing a dark canvas jacket with the collar popped ever so slightly over a plain charcoal henley, his black jeans and boots completing the outfit as a chain of silver showed a bit from above his shirt collar. The dark color scheme worked well for the weather and for his features. The blue of his eyes even more emphasized by the color of his clothing. His jaw was square and sharp, and the structure of his cheekbones brought attention to the bags under his eyes. But they, along with his five o’clock shadow, only added to his aesthetic. You wondered if he knew that, if he was aware. You’d seen many a man who wore the same style, but it was so clearly put on. This seemed to be very him. Not that you knew him, of course, but still it was evident. 

It occurred to you though, as cool as he seemed, there was the tiniest bit of pink coloring his cheeks as he slyly rubbed his neck, before he finally stood before you, that betrayed his air of cool.

Nickie looked between the two of you with a quirked brow as you began taking the man’s order.

Your fingers twiddled over the screen in your nervousness while he looked over the menu, musing aloud before he moved to walk the display case. 

“What’s your favorite?” he asked, a wave of self assurance growing over him as he casually shoved his hands in his pockets, turning to watch you as you forced your own hands to still before standing up a bit straighter at the question. It was innocent enough, despite the smoothness of his words and the smile that played on the corner of his lips as he recognized your fidgeting for what it is - your own nerves bounding around you. 

“Oh, um,” you took a breath, thinking for a second, “I’m pretty partial to the classics, actually,” you said with a small smile, moving down a bit to be closer to where he stood, a bit of your own self assurance coming over you in turn. “The pink sugar cookie and the chocolate chip are probably the biggest sellers, too. But, in my humble opinion, you really can’t go wrong with whatever you choose.”

He smiled at you as you let your own gaze drift down to the case of treats before you.

“If you want to try anything, we do samples, so-” you were about to start rambling when the oven went off, both of you looking over at the sound.

“I’ll get it,” Nickie called from the small kitchen, just past the back counter, where she had gone to eat her cookie.

You turned back to the man and were met with his eyes already on you, both of your brows raising in quiet surprise. He was closer to you now than he was a moment again, and you tittered. You couldn’t fight the small smile that cracked on your face, and he returned a soft one of his own.

“Did you wanna-” you were cut off by Nickie as she looked around, growing a little frantic.

“Do you know where the oven mit is?”

“Oh, I had it..” you tried to think where it could have landed when you’d tossed it earlier, making a face as you came up empty, moving to search the area with her. “Ahhh. I don’t.. Damn,” you breathed.

You took another quick glance around before you moved to the oven. You really didn’t want them to burn.

“I’ll just grab it really fast,” you told Nickie as you pulled the oven door open.

She cringed at the thought, “I know you can’t feel it, but still, you shouldn’t do that,” she warned.

“I’ll be fine,” you assured her, “I’ll put them down super quick, can you just clear the counter and then we’ll move them to the rack in a minute.”

You could feel the man’s eyes on you still, and as you reached to grab the tray, you turned to speak to him, “Sorry. If you want to try anything, just let me know.”

As you were turning and talking, you blindly grabbed the tray. 

It took a second for it to hit you but then all at once you felt the burn. 

You quickly let go, pulling your hand back with a harsh gasp before you could get the cookies out. You grasped onto your wrist out of instinct as the pain burned through you.

“Fuck,” you cursed as you gripped your hand. 

“Are you okay?” both the man and Nickie asked in unison, watching you with concern. 

You flicked your eyes up to the man before looking over at Nickie. 

“It.. it hurts,” you said, confused by the fact that you felt it at all, and yet knowing full well what that had to mean.

“Oh,” she breathed in response, her gaze flicking over to the man still standing at the counter, but getting closer, all the while keeping his eyes on you. She blinked, eyes rounding slightly as she looked at you once more, “I’ll get a towel or something.”

She rushed away while you groaned softly. Both at the stinging burn and the fact that your cookies were definitely getting too baked.

“Just grab whatever will work,” you called to her, “they’re gonna burn if we leave them any longer.”

“I can grab them for you,” the man offered as he approached you, coming around the counter to where you were. “I uh, I haven’t met my soulmate, so…” he seemed a little embarrassed by the confession as you stared at him dumbly. 

Your mind was racing with all the things you wanted to say to him, but your tongue was refusing to move as you stood there holding your hand.

He stepped closer, and it seemed he was waiting for your permission as he nodded to the oven. You looked at him and then to the tray of cookies waiting to be taken out. You took a step back and gave him room to get to the tray. A part of you wanted to warn him that you’d thought the same thing when you’d grabbed it, only to be proven wrong, but another wanted to confirm that... that it was him.

You watched intently as he reached into the oven. It felt like he was moving in slow motion while you waited for his hand to make contact with the metal tray.

He grasped it and his forehead creased, brows furrowing as he quickly moved from the oven to drop it onto the back counter. You were holding your breath and almost deflated until you realized he was cursing under his when he was holding the tray.

“Shit,” he cursed once more, shaking out his hand, his brows still drawn together. You were staring at him with rounded eyes as you continued clutching your own burn.

You offered him your name and you stepped closer, your voice making him lift his gaze from examining the burn on his hand, up to you.

His brilliant eyes seemed to twinkle in understanding as he met your own. He breathed a smile, mirroring your movements and taking a step to you in turn.

“James. You can call me Bucky,” he simpered.

“Bucky,” you nodded as your lips curled into a soft smile of your own. “Thank you, for saving the cookies,” you offered.

“You’re welcome. Should maybe invest in some more oven mitts, though,” he joked with a mirthful smirk playing on his lips.

“I should,” you agreed with a nod and a light laugh. “Sorry about your hand.. I uhm, I have a first aid kit in the back,” you gestured with your head, “burn cream included.”

“That’d be good,” he said, “and you have nothing to be sorry about, I offered,” he continued, trailing you to the back. Nickie passed you sheepishly, though she gave you a small, knowing smile as she went to watch the front.

You swallowed hard and cleared your throat of your nerves as you worked to collect yourself, gathering your bearings with this turn of events.

“So... Bucky, huh?” you said as you grabbed the stuff you needed from the kit and watched him lean against the empty counter. You walked back over to him as he waited for you.

“Yeah. It’s uh,” he stifled a small hiss as you smeared some ointment onto his burn, gently holding his hand as you did. There was something about the soft touch that you couldn’t quite explain. The way it makes you feel, something you’ve never felt before. It wasn’t like the pain, it was more like a comfort, but still it was new. “It’s usually reserved for friends...family, but I think soulmate fits in there, too,” he smiled charmingly at you before taking the tube of cream from your hand. “Unless you like James more,” he offered, “honestly, I’d probably answer to whatever you wanted to call me,” he flirted easily.

You held your breath at the touch, and let out a soft titter at his words, a spark stemming from his hold as you let him put some ointment on your small burn. 

“I think I’ll go with Bucky for now,” you smiled, meeting his brilliant blue gaze.

“So I- I’m not too sure how this goes…” he started, a self-deprecating smile sitting crooked on his lips while he let go of your hand, somewhat reluctantly, once he was done with the cream, setting the tube on the counter before looking back at you, “but I was thinking we could start with dinner.”

There was a twinkle in his eye again, hope shining through, and you were sure your gaze held much the same as you waited for him to ask. “Are you free tonight?”

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

Summary: You are baking a cake for Bucky's birthday, but he is far more interested in the icing.

Word Count: 1,454

Warnings: nsfw, smut, oral sex (female receiving), slightly dom Bucky

“I’m not sure that you need to go through all this effort for me.”

“Of course you’re worth the effort, babe! Plus I promised everyone that they would get their favorite cakes, so now I have to deliver.”

“So essentially this isn’t for me, it’s for everyone else.” Bucky’s destructive thoughts getting the better of him, even on this auspicious day.

You put down all your baking equipment and turned to face your boyfriend, hands on your hips. “Now you listen to me, this party is to celebrate your presence on this Earth. I could not be more grateful for that. And if it means making cake to make everyone happy, I will do just that. Understood?”

Bucky nodded meekly, smiling.

The oven timer pinged letting you know that the cakes you’d baked were ready. It had been the aroma of said cakes that had attracted Bucky to the kitchen in the first place. You pulled out the fresh batch of cupcakes; they looked perfect. You were glad you’d hung out with your sister when she baked. She was a chef and made the most wonderful desserts. Bucky reached out to pick up one of the cupcakes, but you swatted his hand away.

“Not yet, you’ll ruin your appetite. Lunch first, cake is for the party. Plus you snack entirely too much and neglect your vegetables terribly.”

Bucky pouted. Why did he look so adorable when he did that? You weren’t sure if he knew how you felt about his pout, but he most certainly took advantage of that fact. You resisted his attempts at sympathy, with difficulty. Getting to work, you found the icing covering not only the cakes, but your fingers and for some reason, your face. Bucky watched you make a mess all over the kitchen counter, a mess you knew he wouldn’t help clean up. After a good half hour of creative icing and uttering a variety of profanities, you dropped two little sweets into the last cupcake.

“The sweets are meant to represent eyes,” you informed Bucky, admiring the little faces on each individual cupcake.

“I see,” was all he had to say.

“Buck, remind me never to offer to make a cake for anyone ever again.”

“I wish I were the kind of person who could stop myself from saying ‘I told you so,’ but I’m not. I told you it was a bad idea.”

If looks could kill, Bucky wouldn’t stand a chance in hell.

“Any chance you’ll help me clean this up?” You nodded at the clutter, hands held out in front of me, like a surgeon who had just scrubbed up.

“Of course,” Bucky said.

You were surprised by his answer, that is until you saw the smirk on his face. Bucky took your hand and placed your thumb in his mouth, sucking the icing clean off your skin. He worked his way across one hand, taking your whole finger into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your digits, sucking at the tips, the whole time looking directly into your eyes. Your breathing was heavy, panties already soaked with anticipation. Bucky leaned towards your face and you looked up in response, expecting a kiss. As he got closer, rather than aiming for your lips, Bucky licked your chin. You hadn’t even noticed that there had been icing there! He kissed you, hard, tongue in your mouth, you could taste the icing on his.

“Easy there, cream puff,” you said as Bucky pressed against you again. “You’re going to ruin the cupcakes!”

“The cupcakes are fine!” Bucky peered around you to check. In the process he noticed the tube of icing, which he grabbed excitedly.

“You’re not going to eat directly from that are you?”

“No, that wasn’t my intention. But my birthday, my choice!” Bucky quirked an eyebrow and looked you up and down. Your eyes widened as you realized what he wanted.

“Really?” you asked.

Bucky nodded and motioned you over to the couch where he stripped you of your clothes. It didn’t take long, you were only wearing shorts and one of his old t-shirts.

“Lie down.” It wasn’t a question, it was a command, a command you obeyed instantly.

Bucky climbed on top of you, straddling your hips. You noticed that his bulge was much more prominent than normal. He still had the tube of icing in his hand.

“Open your mouth,” he said.

You did.

Bucky squirted some icing onto your tongue, it tasted divine. Closing your eyes, you moaned, your chest rose as you took a deep breath.Bucky cupped one of your breasts and using the tube, drew a spiral of icing around your nipple. He moved over to the other side and did the same. You watched his eyes as he worked, they had a hungry, excited look which made you tingle. Bucky shuffled down your body until he was sitting between your legs. He disposed of his shirt and pants, leaving only his boxers and the clear signs of his arousal.

He leaned over your naked form and slowly licked the icing from you with the broad flat of his tongue. The sensation was almost explosive, even more so now that he had started to grind his hips against yours. You were starting to feel a little desperate for some skin contact. You ran your fingers through Bucky’s hair and tugged at it gently as he sucked on your other nipple.

“Bucky, is that all you’re going to be eating today?” you asked, breathily.

Bucky looked up at you and smiled wickedly, “not at all, Doll.” And with that he moved further down the couch, taking your legs in his hands and pushing them apart. He took one quick glance at your face before plunging his tongue between your folds and caressed your clit.

You cried out in pleasure, “Oh God, Bucky.”

“Doll, you taste better than the icing.”

All you could manage was a moan in response. Bucky laughed again and climbed up to your face, his whole body weight pressed against you.

“You’re not done already are you?” you asked.

“No, that was just the appetizer. I’m here for the three course meal.”

“Well you’ve certainly wet my appetite. Now get off me, I want a taste too.”

Bucky got up and pulled you to your feet. You stood face to face while you ran your fingers all over his body, placing kisses in places you knew got him excited.

“Do you want to try some of the icing?” Bucky asked as you pulled down his boxers.

“I prefer salty over sweet.” you replied, stroking him. “Why don’t we have the main course in the bedroom?”

Bucky took your hand and led the way. He lay down on the bed and you quickly brought him to his full potential with some well placed kisses and caresses. Before either of you knew what was happening, he was inside you, pushing gently at first, allowing you to adjust to his size. It wasn’t really necessary, you were ready.

“Hurry up Buck, I’m so ready for dessert.”

He was more than happy to oblige. Your hips clashed together as he pushed into you hungrily. Your hands seemed to be everywhere, greedily stealing every delicious sensation.

Suddenly Bucky slowed down. “You ready?”

His question confused you at first, but then you felt him throbbing inside you and realized that he was almost finished. You loved that about Bucky, he was always willing to wait for you, he wanted you to finish together. You shook my head. You were close, but you needed a little more stimulation. You reached down to help yourself, but Bucky got there first.

“Just tell me when, okay?” he said.

You nodded. It didn’t take much long after that, after a minute you were screaming at him that you were on the edge. He started pounding into you furiously. You clenched around him, waves of pleasure crashing through your body. Bucky threw his head back and swore as he emptied his load into you, ecstasy pumping through him with his orgasm. Bucky collapsed beside you, both of you breathing heavily. You lay together in silence trying to catch your breath, savoring the remnants of the bliss you’d brought each other.

Bucky spoke up first. “So you ready for dessert?”

You looked at him incredulously. “It’s your birthday, not mine!”

“I could really do with some cake.” Bucky wiggled his eyebrows.

“Fuck, the cakes!” You’d forgotten to put them in the fridge. You practically fell off the bed as you rushed into the kitchen to make sure your hard work had not been a waste of time. You heard Bucky’s low rumbling laughter float after you.

[jo-speaks]

good graces ft. quinn hughes

in which…

quinn hughes realizes you'll be okay, with or without him.

warnings: MDNI. brief smut (again, it's like a paragraph), mature language, mentions of cheating, and i think that's all.

track three in short n' sweet (hughes brothers version) series!

When I love you, I'm sweet like an angel

Drawin' hearts 'round our names

And dreamin' of writing vows, rockin' cradles

“What’re you doing?” Quinn asked, wrapping his arms behind you as you shut the oven door, leaving the sweet treat you made to bake.

You took off your oven mitt before sighing and leaning back into his hold. “Baking cookies. You said you wanted some this morning, right?

He let out a soft laugh, “Yeah. How did you hear that though?”

“It’s not like you’re quiet when you’re on the phone with Conor.”

Quinn rolled his eyes playfully, dismissing your comment about how comfortable he was when talking to his teammate. He set one of his hands to lean back against the kitchen island where he felt a piece of paper under his palm. He furrowed his eyebrows, creasing the sheet slightly to pick it up. 

After a quick examination, he realized it was the recipe you had written down for the cookies. In the top corner of it, he saw his initials next to yours, enclosed in a heart. Quinn felt a warm feeling in his chest knowing you had done that, not caring if he saw it or not.

He held the paper in front of your face, which you had buried in the crease of his right elbow. “What’s this?”

You traced your eyes over the paper, “The recipe for the cookies? Don’t tell me you can’t read all of a sudden.” He gave you a thin-lipped look before tapping his finger over the childish drawing causing your eyebrows to lift in realization. “Oh, that. Got bored, thought it was cute. Something we could show the kids.”

Now it was his eyebrows that rose, “Kids? Like our kids?”

“Yeah, two of them. One of each. We can have them after our billion-dollar wedding.” You stated that like it was the most obvious thing in the world. 

Quinn knew you weren’t entirely serious. The two of you had this conversation a few months ago and he knew you wanted him to focus on his hockey career while you focused on your career. You both agreed you didn’t want to rush into anything until you were settled. And since Vancouver had been his home for 6 years and yours for 5 of those when you decided to move in with him, maybe it was time to start putting down those roots together.

Don't mistake my nice for naive

“Y/N, please. You’re being ridiculous. You were the one who told me to come in the first place!” Quinn called out to you as you walked away from him.

You stopped and turned back to face him, “Because I thought you’d have fun celebrating with your team here! Not flirt with the bartender the whole night!”

He rolled his eyes, setting you off even more. “I wasn’t flirting with her! I was getting Brock his drink!”

“Whatever, Quinn. I’m going home.” You sighed, not wanting to continue arguing with him in front of a bunch of people.

“I wasn’t flirting.” He mumbled, defeated.

You almost felt bad for reacting the way you did, but you knew him. The half smile and constant nodding all while keeping his eyes on her lips as they moved. 

You weren’t stupid.

I don't waste a second, I know lots of guys

You do somethin' suspect, this cute ass bye-bye

Like, ooh

Baby, you say you really like it being mine?

So let me give you some advice

After the whole bar argument, you decided to repay the favour a few days later when you had gone out to that same bar with your girlfriends. The same night you knew the Canucks would be celebrating their victory there. You watched the door attentively before a tap on your shoulder caught your attention.

“Y/N, this is Josh. He thought you were cute!” Was the only thing your friend said before walking away. The stumbling in her steps was the only thing you needed to explain the situation. 

Josh rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he placed his drink down on the bar and took the seat next to you. He cleared his throat, “Hey. Pretty interesting friend you have there.”

You snorted, “Tell me about it. You should see her sober, she’s still the same way.”

He laughed, “So, what’s a pretty girl like you doing sitting alone?”

Before you could answer, you heard the bar erupt in whistles and clapping. You didn’t even have to turn your head to know who had walked in. Josh glanced over your shoulder, getting a view of the team himself. His focus came back to you when you tilted your head to interrupt his view. 

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. But to answer your question, I’m just here because I’m pissed at my boyfriend.”

You noticed his face drop before returning to the way it was before, “No way. I’m here because I’m pissed at my girlfriend!”

Your eyes widened at his confession, letting out a small chuckle. “Yikes, you’re an asshole.”

“Yeah?” He propped his arm on the bar, “How are you not?”

“Well for starters, I’m not approaching anyone. Second, my boyfriend just got here, so he knows where I am. And it doesn’t take a genius to know that your girlfriend has no idea where you are.” You answered, seeing the team take a seat at the tables next to where you were sitting.

As Josh sat in front of you, stunned at your words, you caught your boyfriend's eyes. He took a double take, not realizing it was you the first time. You looked away, bringing your attention back to the man in front of you as Quinn kept his on you.

“Who’s your boyfriend?” Josh asked.

You smirked slightly, “Quinn Hughes.

Josh’s eyes widened, “Bullshit.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling him closer so you could talk in his ear and look over it to lock eyes with Quinn. “Don’t believe me? You’ll see who walks over to you when I leave.”

You backed up and got off your stool, heading to the bathroom as you kept eye contact with your boyfriend as you passed him. After you did, you heard him get up, his footsteps going the opposite way from where you were heading.

~

“What the fuck was that,” Quinn grumbled as he got into his car.

You shrugged your shoulders, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Quinn scoffed, “This is fucking gold, Y/N. You were all over my ass for doing the same shit on Tuesday, but when you do it’s all good.”

“Yeah, no. See, the difference between what I did tonight and what you did earlier this week is that I actually wasn’t flirting, I just wanted you to see what it was like to feel how I did when I saw you actually flirting with someone else.” You retorted, knowing how ridiculous the words coming out of your mouth sounded to him.

Yet on some level, Quinn knew you were right. He sighed before reaching over the center console to take hold of your hand. 

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t sober, but I still knew what I was doing. I don’t want to lose you over this, so please tell me what I can do to make it up to you.” He whispered.

You turned to look at him, “You like being my boyfriend?”

He nodded.

“Then don’t lie to me.”

Boy, it's not that complicated

You should stay in my good graces

Or I'll switch it up like that so fast

'Cause no one's more amazin'

At turnin' lovin' into hatred x2

I won't give a fuck about you x3

That was cool

I won't give a fuck about you (Oh) x3

Yeah

“She’s the last person I’d want to piss off,” Jack told his brother over the phone as Quinn finished up telling him the whole bar fiasco the two of you had gone through a month ago. 

“Tell me about it. I’m not just saying this because she’s my girlfriend, but she’s literally always right. It’s getting scary.” Quinn confessed, pulling his car into the parking garage of the apartment complex.

Jack sighed, “Well, shit. Good luck with that, bro. Lukey’s calling you later, I gotta go.” 

Quinn said goodbye to his brother, hanging up the phone as he stepped out of his car, grabbing the bouquet of flowers he had gotten you for no reason. After the whole situation, he knew he couldn’t only make it up with verbal apologies. So he went old-school, settling for getting you flowers whenever he felt like they were needed. 

He stepped into the elevator, rocking back and forth on his heels as he reached your floor, walking out the second the doors opened. 

As he unlocked the front door of your shared apartment, he could hear you talking in the kitchen. 

“Yeah, I don’t know. I didn’t want to forgive him, but he’s making up for it.” You said to whoever you were talking to over the phone. 

Quinn stepped in quietly, your back still turned and your AirPods in your ears as you cooked dinner for the two of you. Still unbeknownst to you, Quinn walked to the hallway across from the kitchen, wanting to hear your conversation. 

Was it wrong to eavesdrop on you? Yes. Did Quinn know this? Also yes. Did he care? Not really. 

You let out a sigh, “Listen. He knows better than to do that to me. He also knows that I’m the last person he wants to fuck with because I can switch up incredibly fast. If he wants to cheat on me, he can go right ahead. But he knows damn well I’ll be out replacing him that same night.”

His face dropped. He knew that you were telling the truth, which is what scared him straight. 

“I don’t give a fuck if he wants to go out with Bella Hadid. If he does that without breaking up with me, I’m going straight to his mother and maybe even social media if I’m feeling petty enough.” You laughed, but there was nothing you were joking about. 

By now, Quinn wanted to ignore any woman that came his way.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love him so much. So much to the point where I would get down on my knee and propose to him. But, if so much as lies to me about anyone or anything, he’s gonna need a good lawyer.”

I'll tell the world you finish your chores prematurely

Quinn lined himself up in between your legs, pushing into you completely in one swift movement. You let out a breathy moan as your nails dug into his biceps. He didn’t move, letting not only you but himself adjust to the feeling. 

“Fuck, Q. You feel so good.” You mumbled, your brain foggy from the feeling of him being buried inside of you.

He mumbled something you didn’t quite understand before pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back into you completely. He did this a few more times before letting out a guttural groan, spilling into you.

This caught you completely off guard. Quinn had never finished this quickly before nor had he cum before you did. When he came to, he realized what had happened.

“Shit.” He mumbled, too embarrassed to move or even look you in the eyes.

You cleared your throat, pressing a soft kiss to kiss lips. “It’s fine, babe.” You pushed his body back, pushing him out of you. “I can just use my hand.”

He shook his head, finding his voice once again. “No, let me do it. I don’t- I don’t know what happened.”

Break my heart and I swear I'm movin' on

With your favorite athlete

Shoot his shot every night

Want you every second, don't need other guys

You were scrolling on your phone, swiping up on all the notifications you were getting from Instagram, seeing as you had just posted. 

Quinn was featured in a few of the pictures, drawing the attention of his friends and fans to your account. Your head was propped up on Quinn’s lap as you lay on the couch as he played his video game on the living room TV. 

One notification caught your eye as you furrowed your eyebrows seeing the DM request that had come through. 

‘rjosi90 wants to send you a message.’

“Hey babe? Who’s this?” You asked, turning your phone around to show him the account.

He paused his game, looking down to look. “You don’t know who Roman Josi is? He was that guy you met at the awards ceremony, remember?”

“Oh! The one you never shut up about!” You teased as soon as you remembered the name.

Quinn rolled his eyes, nodding at your words before resuming his game but keeping his attention on your conversation. “What did he send you?”

You opened the message, your eyes widening as you internally debated on telling him the truth, not knowing how he would react. But, you knew you wouldn’t want him lying to you if he got the same message from another woman, so you decided to be honest.

“He said he thinks I’m pretty and that you’re a lucky guy.” You read, eyes quickly flashing back to Quinn.

His cheeks were red and his eyebrows were knitted together. You looked at his hands, which were now gripping his controller so tight that his knuckles were going white. “Are you gonna respond?”

Hesitantly, you shook your head, “Not if you don’t want me to.” 

Quinn had never been an insecure person, but he wasn’t always confident. And your delayed reaction probably didn’t help. You let out a breath before grabbing the controller out of his grip and setting it to the side. 

You sat up, swinging your legs on either side of his lap and taking his face in between your hands. “Hey. I want you. Only you.”

You pressed a kiss on his lips which he barely returned out of his own frustration. Pulling back, you started to litter kisses all over his face in an attempt to cheer him up. Trailing from his lips to his cheeks, then to his jaw, and stopping on his neck. You sucked on a sweet spot that caused his hands to come up and settle on your hips. 

“I don’t want anyone but you, Quinn.”

You do somethin' sus, kiss my cute ass bye

As you stepped into his room, he quickly shut off his phone and turned it face down. You furrowed your eyebrows as you stood in the doorway.

“Am I interrupting something?” You questioned.

He shook his head rapidly, clearing his throat as he rubbed his hands together before walking over to you. “Just caught me off guard.”

You scanned his face. His cheeks were flushed and his face was sweaty. Not wanting the answer you thought it was, you gave him a look before speaking again. “Was just gonna ask if you wanted to watch a movie with me. But if you’re… busy, I can just watch it by myself.” 

Quinn cleared his throat, “Uh, yeah. Let me just do something really quick and I’ll be right out.”

You simply shook your head, walking out of his room and heading back to your room and laying down on your bed with your laptop in front of you as you curled up in a blanket waiting for your boyfriend.

Even though the two rooms were separated by a small hallway, the walls were still relatively thin. You heard his door open and close but his feet remained still. You could hear the noise of his phone keyboard in front of your door, typing one last thing out before he walked into your room.

“So what movie are we watching, pretty girl?” He asked, setting his phone on your bedside table.

You eyed his phone before looking at him, “Everything okay?” 

He gave you a confused look, “Yeah, why?”

“Sounded like you were typing something important.” You shrugged, not wanting to make a big deal out of what could be nothing.

But, his wide eyes told you everything you needed to know. You sat up, raising your eyebrows in a way that said “Tell me what’s going on.”

Quinn shifted on his feet. “My ex texted me. She was saying she wanted to meet me for dinner and…” He cut himself off.

“And what?” You pressed.

“She wants to try again.”

You scoffed, “Okay. What did you say?”

He took a breath before answering, “I told her about us and that I’ll pass on the dinner because I’m very happy with you.” The way his words came out, you didn’t fully believe him. Yet at the same time, his face and body language told you he was telling the truth. You could tell he was nervous telling you, but you knew he wasn’t lying.

You nodded your head, “Okay.”

“Okay? What does that mean? I can show you the texts if you want!” He rambled.

Pulling him down onto the bed with you, you wrapped the blanket around him as well before setting the laptop in a way where you could both see it while lying down.

“I trust you, Q. If you say that’s what you told her, I believe you.” You whispered.

Boy, it's not that complicated

You should stay in my good graces

Or I'll switch it up like that so fast

'Cause no one's more amazin'

At turnin' lovin' into hatred x2

I won't give a fuck about you x3

Oh, no

I won't give a fuck about you (Oh) x3 

Oh

No, I won't

I won't give a fuck about you, no, I won't

(I won't, I won't, I won't) x2

Quinn sat in the parking lot of Roger’s Arena. You had driven home early, wanting to beat the traffic seeing as the score by the middle of the third period was 0-4. 

The loss of the game and your going home early left Quinn thinking. 

You didn’t need him. 

Sure, you loved him and you loved living with him and the company and affection he gave you, but at the end of the day, you were completely fine being alone. 

The realization had Quinn wiping a few stray tears from his cheeks as he started up the engine of his car. He drove back in silence, hoping you’d be showering and in bed by the time he got home. 

As he focused on the scenery around him in the late hours of the night, that feeling of sadness fizzled into a feeling of relief. If for whatever reason Quinn left you, you would be okay. And now that he understood that, he became even more determined not to lose you.

Because regardless, Quinn Hughes didn’t want to live in a world where you weren’t his.

[bunnylovesani]

He Was a Boy, She Was a Girl

Summary: Sam has never been the most reliable neighbour- but will he have your back when the opportunity arises?

Content warnings: Fluff with the tiniest bit of smut at the end

WC: 2.4k

Sam Monroe was nothing if not an asshole. If the mailman mistakenly delivered only one newspaper, he would rush out to make sure he was the first to get it. If you were studying and asked him to turn the music down, he’d crank it up to full volume until the walls vibrated. The one time you were sick and couldn’t wheel the garbage out to the end of the road, he laughed at your plea for help, kicking the piled-up bin on his way out. What’s more, he came over again later just to complain about the smell while you answered the door wrapped up in your duvet, sniffling through your painfully reddened nose.

There was no doubt whatsoever that Sam was a self-centred, lazy, abrasive boy. You’d learned long ago that if you wanted something done, he was not the neighbour to ask. So why were you so obsessed with him? 

Maybe it was his steely cold good looks or the way he endlessly teased you that got you hooked but one thing was certain- he would never like someone like you. 

Or at least that’s what you thought. Though the bravado he put on was impressively convincing, behind the layers of angst and attitude was a boy who had been smitten with you for years. He’d observed you closely since you were kids; your bedroom windows were parallel to each other and you weren’t too fond of closing your curtains. How could he not fall for you when you left taped-up paper notes for him on the glass, signing every message off with a heart? He’d roll his eyes and shut the blinds in response but a smile would creep up on his face once he was out of sight.

That’s just the way you were, tooth-rottingly sweet and resiliently kind despite his many attempts to enforce a distance between you. But you gave your kindness out to everyone- he could tell by the way you chirped “Good morning!” to the whole street and the wide grin that was always plastered on your angelic face.

Yes, it was clear as day that your brightness was not reserved for him, which is why he was decidedly careful not to mistake your warm-hearted nature for something more. 

He didn’t see the way you baked your cookies just for him, swapping out the chocolate chips for raisins because you knew he preferred those even though you couldn’t stand them. He didn’t know that your beaming smile was only there because he’d crawled out of his room long enough for you to catch a glimpse of him that day. Just like you didn’t know that there was no smell coming from the bins that day, he just needed an excuse to see you were okay. 

“Sam! Come on, open the door. I know you’re in there.” You sighed, tapping your foot impatiently outside his house. 

“What?” He huffed, opening up with half-lidded eyes and his usual boorish demeanour. 

“There you are, I’ve been knocking for all of ten minutes. Brad needs a flat nut tool for his guitar and I thought it sounded like something you’d have.” 

“Brad?” He raised his eyebrow. “That Neanderthal has taken up playing?” 

“He wants to be a guitar tech.” You chewed on your bottom lip, his scrutinising glare piercing into you. 

“And he can’t buy his own tools?” Sam turned around and walked off into his room with you trailing closely behind. 

“He says he forgot to buy this one.” You shrug. 

“Well too bad, I’m not loaning my best tool to a guy that forgets to turn up to his own finals exam.” 

“That was one time!” You defended him though you weren’t entirely sure why. 

“One time too many.” He lands back into his unmade bed with a soft thud. “You know he wants to fuck you, right?” 

“Brad? No way.” You shake your head fervently. 

“Oh, yes. He’s pretending to be your friend, taking you out to all these parties, just waiting for an opportunity for you to let your guard down.” 

“You’re too paranoid, Sam. I mean, honestly. Not every guy wants to get in my pants. I mean, you should know. You can barely tolerate me.” You chuckle mirthlessly, hoping in vain that he would refute your claim. 

“Yeah. I suppose.” He clears his throat and sinks deeper into his duvet, awkward energy filling the air. 

“Well, I’ll be on my way. Sorry for bothering you.” You turn on your heel. 

“Bye.” He grunts as you make your way out of the house. 

In hindsight, what you’d asked of him was embarrassingly silly and you knew he’d never agree- but you would take any excuse to talk to him, even if the conversation was uncomfortable. 

As you strolled the few steps it took to reach your home next door, you saw Brad standing by your porch. 

“Hey there, gorgeous.” He smirked, opening his arms to pull you in for a hug. 

“Brad?” You hugged back confusedly. “What are you doing here?”

“Do I need a reason to see a friend?” He quipped disingenuously. 

“Uh, I guess not. I asked Sam about the flat nut but he doesn’t have one.” Your gaze wandered to Sam’s bedroom window, which faced out to your porch. 

“The what? Oh, that. Ah man, that really sucks!” He slapped his leg insincerely.

“Yeah…I should be going now, thanks for stopping by.” You try to shake him off but he steps in front of the door before you can enter.

“Woah, woah, wait. Saying bye so soon? But I came all this way.” He cocks his head and you feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“That’s why you should’ve called first.” You try to sidestep but he grips his broad hands on your shoulders, holding you in place. 

“Don’t be rude.” He warns, beady eyes darkening. 

“Get your hands off me!” You slap him across the face and wriggle out of his grasp, pushing him aside to run into the house. You slam the door shut, locking every bolt and key you have before peering out the peephole to ensure he’d left; he trudged down the porch muttering curses under his breath until he was out of view. Sliding your back down the door and bringing your knees close, you exhaled a shaky breath. Sam was right. 

“Hey, hold up!” Sam shouted as he ran out of his front door to catch up with Brad, who had just passed his front yard. 

“The hell do you want?” He grumbled, stopping for a moment to observe the scrawny, pale specimen marching towards him. “I don’t actually need the damn flat nut.”

“Oh, this isn’t about the tool.” He chuckled, giving himself no time to think about how much taller or broader his opponent was before his arm reared back and he punched Brad square in the jaw, knocking him down to the concrete pavement. 

“You come near her again, I swear to God. I’ll show you what flat nuts look like.” Sam spat, enraged by what he’d seen unfold through his window.

“The hero act is adorable. It really is.” Brad wheezed. “But she’ll never want you.” 

“If you so much as look at her again, I will put you in the fucking ground.” Sam recoiled venomously, adrenaline and fury pumping through his veins.

Before being tempted to do something more drastic, he paced over to your front door, giving himself a moment to diffuse before ringing the doorbell.  

“Hey. You okay?” He asked breathily once you answered. 

“Quickly, come in.” You ushered him in and looked both ways before locking the door securely behind you. “You were right, Sam. He tried making a move on me! And he wasn’t best pleased when I didn’t play along.” 

“What an idiot.” Sam shook his head disapprovingly as your eyes filled with tears. “Oh come on, don’t cry. You know I don’t know how to deal with that.”

“Sorry.” You winced, wiping them away immediately as he scratched the back of his head, a conflicted expression painted across his face. 

“Why are you here?” You sniffled, remembering you forgot to ask. 

“Oh, um, I- I came to ask if you wanted to get some ice cream.” He declared somewhat unconvincingly, subtly scanning you to make sure you were unharmed.

“You? Want to get ice cream with me?” Your eyes stopped watering at the thought.

“I’m craving some, why not bring you along? It’s a nice day and there’s an ice cream truck parked right down the road.” He gulped, hoping you wouldn’t question his out-of-character behaviour. 

“O-okay.” You nodded, chest feeling lighter at the thought of a strawberry scoop. 

“Come on then, slowpoke, out you get.” He opened the door and swung his arm out. 

“Coming.” You chuckled, Sam’s teasing instantly brightening your mood. 

He guided you down the road, thankful the truck was in the opposite direction to the block he’d had his scuffle with Brad. 

Halting before the white van, you observed the myriad of flavours on display and pondered. 

“We’ll have one cone with vanilla and one with rum and raisin, please.” Sam announced to the balding ice cream man before you could interject. He swiftly scooped up the creamy spread and gave it to you both, eyebrows furrowed at the scrunched-up 5 dollar note Sam handed him in return.

You gulped at the brown-mauve lump, not wanting to appear ungrateful but struggling to hide your displeasure. 

“You love raisins, right? You put them in all your cookies.” Sam sucked at his melting white scoop and you glared enviously. 

“Of course, yeah.” You muttered as convincingly as you could before licking a stripe up the unappetising glob, careful to avoid any rogue raisins. 

“How is it?” He asked earnestly. 

“Amazing. So tasty. Wanna try?” You nudged the cone his way but he shook his head.

“I’ll stick to my boring vanilla.” He winked before taking a crispy bite out of the wafer. 

Using strategic nibbles, you could stomach the flavour of the rum by swallowing it whole before the sickly taste had time to disperse. The raisins, however, were a different kind of challenge. Whenever Sam looked away, you took the opportunity to quickly pick the morsels off and toss them to the ground. He was too lost in his usual grumbling, heightened by the excitement with Brad, to pay any notice. Finishing the last of your cone with a sigh of relief, a shiver coursed through your body.

“You cold?” Sam nudged your shoulder against his own. 

“A little.” You shrugged, acting like it was the weather and not the monstrosity you’d just ingested causing your goosebumps. 

“I didn’t bring anything.” He tutted, stopping in his tracks. “Let me run back and get you something.” 

“No, Sam, it’s fine-“

“It’ll only take a minute.” He interrupted, already jogging back towards the house as you took a seat on a nearby bench. It was pointless arguing with him.

Sam retrieved a black fleeced hoodie from his coat rack and quickly paced his way back, not wanting to keep you waiting. As he caught up with you, he noticed a trail of little brown lumps scattered across the pavement, each fleck spaced a couple metres apart. Squinting, he peered closely until the details came into focus. Are those raisins?

Somewhat carelessly, Sam tossed the hoodie in your direction and you grabbed it with a grateful nod. You draped it over yourself with a contented hum, the warmth of his scent enveloping you. 

“Thanks.” You smiled gratefully. 

“No problem.” He sat down besides you, keeping a small distance. “Let’s play a game.”

“What kinda game?” You cocked your head curiously. 

“One of those rapid fire ones. I ask short questions and you have to say yes or no really quickly.” He explained with a faint smirk. 

“Okay, hit me!” You slapped your palms against your thighs excitedly. 

“Alright. Is pink your favourite colour?”

“Yes.”

“Do you love roses?”

“Yes.”

“Do you like Brad?”

“No.”

“Is today a Saturday?”

“Yes.”

“Do you love me?”

“Yes.”

As soon as the word left your lips, your breath hitched and your mind began racing with ways you could take it back. Sam smirked and shuffled back on the bench, spreading his legs apart and resting his hands behind his head.

“Is that so?” He raised an eyebrow, clearly taking pleasure in your humiliation. 

“As a friend. As a neighbour!” You interjected frantically.

“Don’t try to backtrack now. You love me.” He laughed, shoving you playfully as you dropped your head into your hands, keen to hide your reddening face. “Why did I find a trail of raisins leading up to here, huh?”

You raised your head to meet his gaze, now softened and sincere.

“I hate raisins.” You mumbled.

“And you put them in all your cookies because?”

“I knew you liked them.”

“I thought as much.” He hummed, his suspicions confirmed.

“Look, Sam- it’s a really stupid crush, I’ll get over it, I promise. This doesn’t have to change anything, right?” You whined desperately.

“Of course it does. It changes everything.” He shook his head. 

“What? No, Sam, please-“

“Now I can finally do what I’ve been wanting to for years.” He turned to face you, Adam’s apple bobbing with apprehension. 

“Wh-what? Wait, Sam-” You quietened, shrinking into nothing as he drew closer. 

“Shut up.” He grasped your jaw firmly and you melted into his touch as he grazed his bottom lip against yours. “Enough talking.” 

Your whimpering was swallowed by the plump pink lips that enveloped your own, fingers tangled into your hair as he kissed you in a way that made you feel his years of longing. The soft, wet flesh smacked messily and filled your chest with an aching desire, unlike anything you’d experienced before. Strings of drool connected your lips as you pulled away reluctantly for breath. 

“You’re a good kisser.” You panted breathlessly, blissfully unaware of your surroundings or the judgemental glares you’d been getting from passers-by.

“Come back to mine and I’ll show you what else I’m good at.” He smirked, wiping the spit off his deliciously swollen lips. 

You wanted to play modest but you knew there was no use resisting- by the end of the night, you’d be bent over his unmade bed, scrunching up the sheets with balled-up fists and moaning out his name as he mercilessly moulded himself into your squishy guts.

You couldn’t wait.

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[grapejuicestyless]

Happier

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: Y/n is not happy, despite the smile etched into her face, and nobody can see that, nobody but Harry, who can’t seem to express his concern in a gentle way.

“You look happier.”

What am I supposed to say to that? Thank you? I don’t mean to be mean when nobody meant any harm, but it feels so casually cruel for someone to pick up on the way I’ve changed and mistake my spiraling for happiness.

I don’t know the true shape of my face. My cheeks were round most of my life, meant to be kneaded between the fingers of my working class grandmother while she baked in the kitchen, but more recently the skin has fallen from the bone and what was once rolled between wrinkled fingers is tighter to my face as it strangles me from the inside out.

I don’t recognize myself either. Maybe I never did, because even when I search for the girl I once was, I can never seem to find her. I remember running around as a child with my best friend, the grass stains on my jeans and the holes in my sweater from tug of war’s in his backyard. She was happy, even if she looked tired. She was the happiest I’d ever been, but she was so young. She hadn’t found herself yet and maybe that’s what made life so good, the ignorance of the real world and how it would shape her.

Maybe the real me is the person who reaches out to her friends when she misses them, or maybe its the girl who counted down the days to her seventeenth birthday so she could finally relate to the lyrics of Dancing Queen and mean it finally. But maybe it’s the girl who sits in bed staring at the ceiling wondering why she never made it where everyone else was going. Maybe it’s the girl who wished her mother cared just a little bit more to stop comparing her to her “smarter” friends when she was twelve.

So maybe I do look happy, maybe I am happy. Maybe I have never felt happy before and maybe that’s why I feel so conflicted about if I truly am or if I am just projecting it out to seem that way.

“Harry.”

I call into the darkness, wandering the house party in a sweaty costume sticky with splashes of beer on the fabric, only half of the costume I came with.

The hallway is long and winding, but it always feels that way when I’m not exactly sure if I’m going in the right direction.

“Harry?” I call out again, spotting the other half of my costume.

“Y/n.” He smiles with a sigh, like even though the smoke between his fingers is taking off the edge, I’ve just calmed the entire air surrounding him. For me, it’s the same feeling. When he’s near, everything seems to slow down for a moment. After about the thousandth comment on how much better I looked from some friends of friends, he disappeared, and maybe that’s why their integrating looks bother me so much, because theres no hand to hold onto to distract me from myself.

I slide against the wall to sit with him, my eyes finding purchase on the same cracks across the thin hallway as he did, and the warm blunt being lazily passed from his fingers to mine.

“I think you’re rubbing all your glitter onto my pants.” he breathes out casually into the comfortable silence. I feel the tension in my shoulders expand before fading.

“I think it’s in my eyes too.”

“Just when I thought they couldn’t shine any brighter.” Harry lifts his hand to hook his index finger around my chin, smiling like an idiot when he sees my lips curl comfortably around the joint.

“Well, maybe I feel better than usual. It’s finally reflecting back to you.”

I joke, feeling sick as I recall the conversation from before. I look happier, as if to suggest that before I was miserable, and even if they weren’t wrong about that, the fact that anyone could read that without a second glance scared me. How a stranger could read me before I could.

“Well, you look like shit if you do.”

“Ouch, that obvious?”

“If I counted each time you rolled your eyes when someone told you that whole speech about how good you look, I’d run out of fingers.”

Harry laughs as he takes back the weed to finish it off. I’ve already drank more than him, so the sway in my body becomes more noticeable as the burn sears down my throat.

“It’s just so…wrong. I mean, I guess I feel okay, but do I really look good enough for all this praise?” I ask quietly into the night, my knees pressing against my chest as I hug my calves tightly between my sweaty palms.

“I think you’re very pretty, Y/n. You are pretty. But your face is changing and no amount of glitter can cover that up.” He tells me honestly, rubbing out the dying end onto his knee and sighing at the burn.

“If you still believe that then I haven’t used enough glitter.” I try to joke, to brush away the rising bile in my throat and tension in the air.

“You can fool anyone else, but I know you. Even if you’re not who you once were, I still know you because I love you.”

“Well you shouldn’t. I’m a leech. I’ll fucking suck up all the joy from your life until you’re too exhausted to leave.” I smiled at the ground drunkenly, head hung low and my eyes heavy.

“But I do. You’re my best friend and it’s pathetic how you let yourself fall so low.” Harry flicks out the end of the blunt, watching the ashes fall the floor and stain the carpet lining the thin hallway.

“I came to you for comfort, you know. Not to get drilled in a bunny costume.” I roll my eyes, the haze clearing at his bitter remarks.

“Well tough luck, I guess. You look like shit for a girl who everyone here thinks is so happy.” Harry looks at me, his hand moving to wipe away the glitter by my eye.

“I need air.” I stand up, almost stumbling against the faint curling of the carpet at the edges. It’s new and that’s how you can tell, it hasn’t fully sunken into the floor, and it’s such a shame that it’s forever stuck with the glitter from my costume and the ashes of Harry’s joint.

“You need help.”

I stop, and there’s a beat that passes.

“You’re a real asshole when you’re high, you know. I have my own shit, I don’t need to be taking yours too.” I smile at him, but only because he was smiling at me.

“Maybe I am.” He responds plainly, and when he looks the other way, I feel heavier than before, more picked apart than before, more vulnerable than before.

Theres a thousand eyes on my back just waiting for me to crack, like the chip in my tooth from how hard I’m smiling while talking to strangers about my hopeless life. And they all say I look happier.

“But y/n,” Harry calls out for me, and for a moment I believe he might apologize.

“You look happy.”

[winchester-24]

Imagine accidentally waking Dean up while baking a pie for his birthday

It was 3:46 in the morning, and you were exhausted. You have been decorating the bunker all night, wrapping gifts, and baking a homemade apple pie for Dean’s birthday. Dean never wanted to celebrate his birthday. He always downplayed it and made a joke that it was just one more year closer to death. Not this year though. Your boyfriend was going to get the celebration he deserves whether he likes it or not.

You knew a little about baking, but you were not an expert. You didn’t know the first thing about making homemade dough or pie filling, and at 2 o’clock in the afternoon, it seemed like a great idea. Now, over 13 hours later, you realize you hate yourself.

Dishes were everywhere in the kitchen; ingredients spread about, and flour covered you as you accidentally spilled some, okay a lot, on you at your first attempt to make the dough. You will never underestimate the bakers that make these for a living ever again. You were kneading the dough when it started to smell like something was burning; you looked behind you at the stove and realized your filling was boiling over.

“Shit, shit, shit,” You cuss quietly as you rush over to take the pot off the stove. The flour and egg mixture on your hands did not help you hold the handle when it slipped from your grip and fell to the floor. The pot makes a loud noise as it hits the floor, and your filling goes everywhere. You were ready to cry and scream right then.

You walked away and took a deep breath, trying to regulate your emotions. You were just tired, and you were doing this for one of the most important men in your life. It was a good thing you bought extra of everything. When you heard him, you went to grab something to clean up the filling with.

“Uh, sweetheart? What’s going on?” You whipped around to see your half-awake boyfriend standing in the doorway. His shirt was gone, and his sweats hung dangerously low. You took in the most beautiful sight before you. You stared at him, completely forgetting he had asked you a question.

“Oh, um, I am baking?” You said it more like a question than a statement. Dean looked around and let out a little laugh.

“I didn’t know baking involved food being on the floor- wait, is that pie filling? Are you baking a pie?” You sighed.

“Yes, I am making a pie, and it's not that you need to be concerned about it. Go back to bed.” You try to usher him out so you can continue without giving too much away, but Dean Winchester was an intelligent man and quickly put it together.

“Baby are you making a pie for my birthday?” he said, walking over to you. He was going to put his hands on your waist, but then he saw the flour all over you and decided against it.

“Ugh, yes, but you weren’t supposed to see it until tomorrow. Surprise!” You pout. Dean looks at you and thinks you are the most adorable person in the world, staying up late to do something nice for him. You looked cute and covered in flour, trying to do something you never did for him. It made him feel loved and made him appreciate you even more.  Not caring about the flour any more, he grabs you by your waist and pulls you in for a kiss. Much to your displeasure, he ends the kiss too soon and looks at your darling face. He kisses the top of your forehead.

“Don’t stress over the pie too much, sweetheart. Come to bed soon; you need rest.” You nod your head, and he starts to leave the kitchen. You turn around to resume getting something to clean up the pie filling when he speaks again.

“Hey, baby?” You turn around and see him already with a cheeky smile.

“That’s not the only filling you can clean up.” You gasp and turn red in the face.

“Dean!” His laugh carries down the hall as he goes back to bed. Your mind is on things other than the pie the rest of your baking time.

[metalhoops]

Steve didn’t know how to show people he cared about them. It wasn’t something he’d learnt growing up in a household with absentee parents and later, emotionally distant friends. So when he finally got to a place where he was ready to try and show others what they meant to him, he didn’t know where to start.

Steve had craved physical touch for as long as he could remember. Something as simple as tousling Dustin’s hair or letting Robin hug him was hard, despite how much he enjoyed it. So he started with something simpler. He made sure the people he loved had their needs met.

Whenever someone needed a place to spend the night, he’d offer up the Harrington household. He’d drive them wherever they wanted to go, no matter what the time of day. He also made sure they were taking care of themselves.

When Eddie somehow weaselled his way into the list of people he loved, he knew he was in way over his head. 

Eddie was lucky to eat three homemade meals a week, let alone a day which set Steve’s teeth on edge. He’d already gotten into the habit of stocking his pantry full of things the kids liked for when they came over and halving his meal-prepped lunches for himself and Robin to share on break.

Steve started simple. When he dropped Robin off to school, or Dustin off to Hellfire, he’d send them with an extra sandwich or a Tupperware container filled with baked goods or last night’s leftovers for Eddie. It felt less personal if it went through a third party. At first, Eddie had looked at Robin and Dustin like they’d grown a third head, but he always accepted. Eddie wasn’t used to saying thanks, Steve didn’t want him to. So when they were together, they didn’t talk about it.

The notes came later. They weren’t anything special. Steve would slip in a post-it note with the meal offering. They started out mundane, ‘have a good day’, ‘don’t let Dustin stay out too late this time’, ‘you want to smoke out back once the kids are gone?’ But time and Eddie’s inability to acknowledge them beyond a smile or nod made Steve grow a little bolder. 

One night, Steve picked the kids up from Hellfire. Eddie had waved at Steve from the back of Hawkins High. His arms half hugged around himself fighting off the cold in nothing but ripped jeans and a tee-shirt. The next morning, Steve sent Robin to school with one of his old leather jackets. It was the most ‘Eddie’ thing he owned. 

Eddie hesitated in taking it from Robin. Food was one thing. A tan leather jacket, admittedly not quite Eddie’s style, was another thing entirely. Robin levelled him with a look to let him know not accepting the gift wasn’t an option. He shrugged the jacket on finding a note in the pocket.  ‘I owe you a jacket’. Eddie spent the rest of the day grinning like an idiot. 

That grin turned into a full-blown smile the next Hellfire when Dustin showed up with a container of frozen spaghetti, yes actual spaghetti and not SpaghettiOs, with a new post-it note attached to the top. ‘You looked nice today’. It proclaimed. Dustin looked at the note with a screwed-up nose. 

“You two are disgusting,” He proclaimed before bugging Eddie about their campaign. 

He can’t keep ignoring Steve. He doesn’t mean to ignore Steve. He just doesn’t know what to say. He still wasn’t sure how he’d managed to become friends with Steve Harrington. He didn’t know what to do with Steve being nice to him. He wasn’t used to people looking out for him, sure there was Uncle Wayne, but they were family. Steve was something different. 

“Hey Dustin,” Eddie called as the kids were leaving. 

“Tell Steve he always looks nice.” 

Dustin looked at him like he’d just asked the kid to stick his hand in a mimic’s mouth. 

“No way I’m passing that on,” He shot back. 

Thankfully, Hellfire’s newest member Will the Wise, was there to save the day.

“I’ll pass it on,” Will confirmed. It was Mike’s turn to look disgusted. 

The ride back from Hellfire that night was tension filled in a way Steve couldn’t comprehend. The kids had loaded into his backseat with tight lips and pinched faces. For once, Will took Dustin’s spot in the front seat, more astoundingly Dustin didn’t complain. 

“What the hell is going on with you guys tonight?” Steve asked when no explanation presented itself.  

“Eddie said you always look nice,” Will remarked as Dustin fake gagged. 

Steve jerked his head so quickly in Will’s direction the car veered onto the rumble strip. 

“He did?” Steve asked smoothing his hair back off his face.

“Can you two flirt without a third-party involved and put us all out of our misery?” Dustin groaned, kicking Steve’s seat and setting his cheeks aflame as he once more veered dangerously close to the edge of the road while trying to get a better look at Henderson. 

“Wait Steve and Eddie are flirting, gross” Mike spoke, his nose wrinkled in repulsion. 

Steve watched Will stiffen in the front seat and that was enough to set all his walls of internalised homophobia crashing down because there was no way in hell someone was going to make one of his kids uncomfortable, even if it was another one of his kids. 

“There’s nothing wrong with liking another guy. It’s just the way some people are... The way I am.” Will shot Steve a thankful half smile while Mike choked on his own tongue. 

“I didn’t mean gross because you’re both guys. Eddie’s cool and you’re lame. It’s gross he likes you.” You weren’t meant to have favourite kids, but Steve could say Mike was his least favourite.

“So you do like Eddie,” Dustin shot triumphantly. 

Steve wouldn’t be hearing the end of it anytime soon. 

The last note Steve would give Eddie was hand delivered by Dustin, much to his chagrin. Asking Eddie to meet him at Benny’s Diner during Steve’s lunch break. To Steve’s surprise, Eddie showed. He plonked down in the diner booth across from Steve and levelled the man under one of his intense stares. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Eddie questioned, giving Steve a conspiratorial smirk. Surely Eddie knew, right? If the others had worked it out, surely Eddie knew. 

“Couldn’t be bothered to cook last night,” Steve admitted and watched Eddie’s face fall. He imagined Robin, back when the two worked at Scoops Ahoy, deftly adding a tally to Steve’s ‘You Suck’, column. Right. Harrington. Get your shit together. 

“And because I thought it’d be a nice place for a date.” Eddies brows drew together as he examined the diner. 

“Yeah, guess it wouldn’t be a bad place for a date. You got one coming later?” Eddie questioned much to Steve’s dismay.

Steve’s head fell to the table with a thud. He wasn’t good with his words. It was so much easier flirting with Eddie in writing. That way he didn’t have to worry about being rejected. 

In one last act of desperation or stupidity, Steve pulled out a pen from his pocket and scribbled a quick message on a napkin, taking a deep breath before passing it over to Eddie. 

‘Would you like to go on a date with me?’ The note asked. 

Across the table, he heard a strangled sound before two solid hands were placed on his shoulders. 

“Are you kidding me, Stevie? Hell Yes.” 

[heartfeltcherie]

Lucifer x shy Baker reader

very first lucifer story and i can’t tell if i like it or hate it lol but i hope u guys enjoy it!! :)

☾. °.   ࿐  ` , •

sugar. butter. flour.

that’s how most of your days went — baking pastries in one of hell’s finest bakeries, serving regular, everyday sinners, to the fanciest overlords of hell. it was tiring work, starting everything from scratch each and every morning and making sure every bite would be the freshest it could be.

you, yourself, weren’t an overlord — just a normal city goer on the streets of pentagram city, doing your job to make a living. even in hell you’re expected to pay rent; but i guess that’s why it’s called hell.

the door chimes, signalling a customer entering your quiet little bakery that smelled of strawberries and sweetness.

“hello, darling” and there he was — lucifer morningstar, the king of hell, himself. you look up from where you were putting the last of your pies in the display case, your cheeks becoming as red as the strawberries you cut up earlier. “oh, your majesty! hello!” you make your way to the front counter, hoping he doesn’t realize how flustered he makes you merely by his own presence.

oh, he absolutely notices. and it feeds his ego tenfold.

he rests his elbow on the counter, resting his chin on the back of his hand.

“i believe i ordered a dozen of your finest cupcakes. shaped like ducks, to be more precise” you chuckle to yourself — who knew the king of hell would get so much enjoyment out of rubber ducks? “let me go get those for you, your majesty”

“oh, dear, there’s no need for formalities. lucifer’s just fine. especially since i’m in here oh-so often” he looks at you with half lidded eyes, raising his eyebrows at you. he knows exactly what he’s doing to you when he speaks in that tone.

you try not to stumble over your own two feet as you get the fancy pink box that has a clear lid, perfectly displaying his highness’s order. you can feel yourself trying not to shake with nerves because satan, he’s so beautiful. “i’m beginning to think you come in here for more than just the sweets i bake” you place the box with fragile goods down in front of him on the counter. lucifer chuckles at your statement, drawing small circles with his pointer finger on your counter. “oh, really? and what makes you say that, hm?”

“i-i don’t know… maybe it’s just an observation, but you come here more than the regulars. and when you do, you usually strike up a conversation with me for hours on end until i have to tell you we’re closed” you chuckle shyly, recalling the countless times lucifer has come in just to talk to you, or give you so many compliments that turn you into a blushing mess.

you don’t understand why he has specific interest in you; he barely knows you, and you him. only in the fairytales in your mind are happily holding hands together.

“oh! haha! that!” he looks nervous, fiddling with his jacket lapels and wiping none existent dirt off his sleeves, not realizing how many times he’s come in just to see you. but he can’t help it, he’s craving the sweetness you give off of lavender and daydreams that it spins him poetic; and he hopes that maybe one day you’ll let him have a taste (you will). “i suppose you just have a way of… drawing me in, i-i guess”

“i just work here, lucifer… you don’t even know me”

“well then, perhaps we should change that then, don’t you think?” you furrow your eyebrows in confusion, tilting your head like a small puppy. lucifer’s heart nearly beats out of his chest. “what do you mean?”

“i meaaan… come by! a-and share some cupcakes with me! and we can also have tea! or chocolate milk! we don’t even have to have the cupcakes! i can get something made for us! michelin-tasting menu, free à la carte!”

you giggle at his excitement and lucifer swears he could listen to that sound for the rest of eternity.

“i-i get off work at five?” you ask with a shy smile, pink dusting your cheeks at the thought of a date with the man you’ve been crushing on for so long. “then i shall see you then, my dear” he kisses the back of your hand with a gentleness that leaves your head spinning as he picks up the box of duck-shaped cupcakes and walks out of your bakery.

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