#mutuals come to my house for free baked goods

[ham1lton]

WET DREAMZ.

pairings: sebastian vettel x reader. lewis hamilton x reader. jenson button x reader. nico rosberg x reader. fernando alonso x reader.

summary: when you move next door to a hot single dad, you take it upon yourself to seduce him. too bad for you that he uncovers your plan. you’re not exactly subtle.

warnings: sexual content. like most of this is straight up smut. mdni. explicit mentions of f!reader’s body parts. charles cameo in nico’s! implied cheating in fernando’s.

author’s note: i woke up in a fugue and wrote this as i ignored all of my adult responsibilities. show it some love <3 also no beta. we die like men.

— taglist | tip jar | feedback and requests | masterlist | ♡

SEBASTIAN VETTEL ✿

when your company allowed you to work remotely, you moved into a smaller village on the outskirts of germany. your family and friends weren’t too happy with your decision to move but with the current economic state of your country at the moment, it was great for your bank account.

your house was a modest affair, with three bedrooms but a gorgeous kitchen that gave you direct visual access into your neighbour’s backyard. the same neighbour who knocked on your door when you first moved in, with a jar of honey and some eggs as a housewarming gift. he was covered with a light sheen of sweat that would have seemed disgusting on anyone else. he introduced himself in german and switched to lightly accented english when he saw your confusion.

he’d sometimes pass you when he was walking his dog, or cycling to the farmer’s market. he’d make his kids wave hello as he’d pick them up and drop them off at their mother’s. he’d take your cakes when you’d exhausted your baking hobbies and would burst if you’d have another slice. he’d grin and smile bashfully when you told him you’d made one just the way he’d liked it.

as you watch him, he turns around and waves at you. a big grin splitting his face as you wave back. you’re so fucked. you spent an hour on facetime last night with your best friends as you went through the pros and cons of fucking your hot neighbour.

the cons outweighed the pros mostly, if it went badly you could lose access to the free gifts he’d bring by occasionally or his help when he would have a look at your car when it started spluttering when you needed to buy groceries. it would be weird too. aren’t adults supposed to be on good terms with their neighbours?

it didn’t stop you from you asking him if you could wait out the storm in his house instead of yours as all the lights had gone out and when he kissed you, you were shocked. you hadn’t needed to come up with a plan to seduce him into wanting you, because he already did.

he had you spread over his lap, his ring finger and his middle finger already in your centre. the sounds of your arousal filling the room as you fucked yourself against his digits. he smiled into the crook of your neck before kissing it.

“i knew you were this desperate for it,” he hums, his german accent thicker as he pressed his thumb lightly against your clit. he’s teasing you, and normally you’d be okay with it. playing this mutual game of cat and mouse but not when you’re this desperate to get off. “it’s okay. because i was desperate for it too.”

your eyes roll back as you reach your peak.

LEWIS HAMILTON ᯽

after your promotion, you decide to treat yourself to a summer home in monaco. it’s a flat in an expensive complex, with a pool, a gym and even a spa. you’d spend many days relaxing and enjoying the amenities or shopping with the bonus money that your boss had bestowed upon you for sealing a contract with one of the biggest businesses in your country. this was your time to relax.

yet, you couldn’t relax. as you finished your daily workout - yes you now had the time - you saw the hottest man in your entire life walk past you in a loose gym set. embarrassingly, you were filling up your water bottle which overflowed and covered you with the excess. thank god he didn’t see.

you hadn’t been much of a femme fatale, you were more of a business woman in your head. your sister told you that there wasn’t much difference between the two, just that the femme fatale chose a different line of business. it was that comment that encouraged you to start your plan of seduction.

it wasn’t working, even when you wore your best gym outfit, the one that made your ass look incredible, or when you attempted to bump into him at the complex’s coffee shop in the cute two piece that exposed your best assets. it seemed like he disappeared.

until he knocked at your door at the middle of the day, you opened it to see him dressed in a suit. for a selfish second, your thoughts drifted to him wearing this for you.

“do you mind watching my dog? roscoe is in a mood today and my usual dogsitter is busy. i have a meeting that is impossible for me to get out of. you’ll be doing me a big favour.” oh. he was british.

you smile at him, as graciously as you can. thanking god that you had just come back from brunch with the girls, so your hair and makeup were still done. you told him all about how much you love dogs and you wouldn’t mind at all watching his fur baby! you were a lovely neighbour after all.

he repaid the favour later anyways, on his knees and in between your legs. he pulls down your underwear, you had shaved in anxious preparation for this moment, your arousal leaving a stain against the fabric. he pressed his thumb against your folds before licking a stripe between them. his tongue flicking against you, as you pressed down harder on his face.

your moans were loud and unapologetic. you had a gorgeous man between your thighs, eating you out like this was his calling. he grinned at you, his face drenched in your juices. you groaned and put your hands on his braids.

now this was a holiday.

JENSON BUTTON ☆

moving to the big city was supposed to be a shock, but you took to it gracefully like a duck to water. london wasn’t the nicest to everyone but it took a liking to you. you bought a house with your best friend in a family neighbourhood with low crime rates and a high chance of getting more money when you’d both inevitably sell it in the future.

it was walkable which you loved. you could walk less then ten minutes to go shopping. you had come back with a few shopping bags when you accidentally bumped into your neighbour who was coming back from picking up his daughters. he laughs at the action as he apologises and gives a hand out for you to shake.

“i’m jenson. sorry about that, these two usually have me run off my feet!” he points at his two daughters who have already ran insider the house. “it’s like they’re my parents.”

after shaking your hand, he takes his cap off and runs a hand through his slightly greying hair. he’s wearing a pair of shorts with a loose t-shirt. it is almost summertime but the weather in london had a mind of its own. sunny one day, rainy the next and freezing for both. but jenson didn’t seem to mind the cold.

you introduce yourself and he listens intently until you realise that you have to go. there is frozen food in the bags and jenson’s daughters are calling for their post-school snack. but after that meeting, you always time your post shopping trip for when jenson comes back with the girls. your roommate/best friend doesn’t protest when you insist on the shopping being your chore but she does give you a sideways glance when she sees you chatting with jenson again on the step.

one night, you’ve come back from a date. it went awfully as per usual, although london seemed to love you and want you, the men didn’t seem to. you’re home late, when you rummage in your purse and swear loudly. you brought the wrong purse! you could call your roommate but she sleeps like the dead and probably wouldn’t answer. you’re thinking of breaking through the window when a voice calls at you.

“y/n?” jenson grins at you. “are you alright?”

after a moment, and a few minutes of arguing that you’re fine to sleep in the bushes, you’re inside jenson’s home. dressed in a pair of his old clothes. he hands you a cup of tea and puts down a packet of biscuits next to it.

“so, are you going to tell me why i caught you dressed to the nines and attempting to break through a window?” he’s trying to sound stern but he’s smiling as he says it.

“bad date,” you start and smile ruefully, taking a sip of tea. “forgot my keys and well, at least you caught me before i did any damage.”

he laughs. you laugh too but not before realising that there are probably kids sleeping in the house. you bring this up to jenson who waves off your concern.

“the girls are at their mum’s. it’s just us. don’t worry. you can be as loud as you’d like.”

you end up being very loud as you lay on his very comfortable bed. he’s tapping himself again the hood of your clit as you squirm breathless from the earlier orgasm he gave you. he smiles at you, leaning up to kiss you as he slides in, swallowing your gasps as he kisses you firmer.

“you know how long i’ve dreamt of having you like this?” he asks. you shake your head, moaning again as he fucks you harder. “since the first day you bumped into me, in that little fucking skirt. dreamt of bending you over and having you like this. anyway you’d let me. would you?”

you nod, voice locked in your throat as he mouths at your tits. he smiles at your willingness.

“good. we have the entire weekend to ourselves. let’s see how many times i can get you to cum. hmm?” you squeeze yourself around him as you have your first orgasm. your cunt spasming as he gently pulls out. he lets you rest against him for a moment, taking a deep breath as he runs a hand down your back.

“now that’s number one. keep count for me darling, okay?”

NICO ROSBERG 𑁍

you weren’t a yacht person. when your university friend had begged you to come home with her for the holidays, you hadn’t expected the family party to be held on a yacht. this was out of your tax bracket.

it seemed like everyone in monaco was right. the casual displays of wealth and decadence made you sick at times. thinking about how the money that went to buying that birkin bag could have made a change in someone’s life. then you think about how you’re wearing a custom gown on a friend’s yacht and realise that you’re now part of the problem.

a bonus about being in monaco, was that the men were gorgeous. your friend’s older brother charles was handsome with dimples and a gorgeous accent. if he hadn’t been in a relationship with a supermodel, you would have been all over that. thankfully, there was more eye candy in the city. your friend’s father had a business partner that was in their house more often then not.

he was blond, blunt and pretty in all the ways an older man could be. when he looked at you, you felt like the world could burn at your feet. he had also been on the yacht at the same time as you. drinking champagne, mingling with family and investors as you ate canapés and watched the sky.

“is it boring you?” he asks, as you turn around. he was dressed in a loose linen shirt, light coloured trousers with his shirt open just enough to see the smooth skin underneath. “can’t believe she brought you to a work event.”

“it’s fine. there are worse places to be.” you respond. you take a sip of champagne and you both ignore the fact he watches the sip go down. he takes note of the way that you’re still looking in the direction of charles and his girlfriend, the two still wrapped around each other.

“you’ve fallen for the charles charm?” he says, smiling as he sits across from you. he puts his ankles up on the table like he owns it, which he probably does. you can tell a lot from a person’s body language, and his is telling you that he’s used to getting what he wants. “it’s a shame. another pretty girl lost in his eyes. want another drink?”

“pretty girl?”

he nods, blue eyes darkening as he looks at you over the rim of his drink.

“would you want me to show you how pretty i think you are?”

so that’s how you find yourself bent over the sink in the bathroom at a yacht party, your pretty dress bunched up at the waist as he presses his fingers inside you. scissoring them to stretch you wider.

“is this what you imagined he’d do to you?” he asks, voice curious. “that he’d go down on you in one of the bedrooms? he’d let you go down on him? that he’d split you open with his cock as we all walked around upstairs?”

you sob as he talks you through it, mascara running down your cheeks. how are you going to explain to your best friend that you fucked her dear precious uncle nico while talking about her brother. he grinds his palm against your clit as he stands up and gags your mouth with his fingers.

“can’t be too loud honey, don’t want them to hear you.”

FERNANDO ALONSO ꩜

spain was a big adventure for you and your boyfriend. the two of you made the decision to move for a few months to his grandfather’s home to help redesign the place. it was slightly run down but nothing that you couldn’t fix. the goal was to rebuild it in order to sell it off.

however, you hadn’t foreseen that this would effectively destroy what relationship you had with your boyfriend. he insisted on not signing the place under your name despite you also funnelling funds into the rebuilding of the house. after another argument, you decide to take a break. wearing a bikini, and armed with nothing besides water, sunscreen and a good book, you make your way into the backyard. sunning yourself to at least gain something from all the money you’ve put in, even if its just a tan and a relaxing afternoon.

“you’re the new neighbour?” a voice calls out, as he leans against the fence that separates your property. you knew the next door neighbour had kids, you could hear them playing occasionally in the summer sun as you painted. you didn’t know they had a hot dad. that’s new information. he smiles at you. “it’s been a while since there has been a young person. the old man who lived here has been here since before i was even born. you’re his kid?”

“no,” you laugh. “he’s my boyfriend’s grandfather. i’m just here as a cash cow apparently.”

your voice turns a little bitter but why wouldn’t you be? you have put in the same amount of time and effort as he has onto this place and now you’re not getting anything back. court is an option but it’ll drain even more of your bank account.

“why is that?” he asks, head tilted as he looks at you.

you end up spilling everything to him. about the house, the money, the contract that has your name redacted. in return, he tells you that his name is fernando and the kids you always hear playing in his back garden aren’t his but rather his nieces and nephews. it’s nice listening to him speak, with the heavy spanish lilt to his accent. he is the first person in a while who has just listened to your grievances so when he asks you inside for a drink, you don’t hesitate. grabbing your wraparound skirt, you follow him inside.

less then ten minutes later, you’re on his lap, as he presses his mouth against your tits. enveloping one nipple in his mouth while his fingers move to play with your other one. you grind down harder against him, feeling your clit brush against the hard muscle of his thigh. your bottoms are soaked with your arousal as you lean closer and bite his shoulder to stay quiet. he leans away from you for a moment, as your eyes widen worried that you’ve done something wrong.

“don’t be quiet hermosa, let him hear it,” he grins up at you then leans in for a kiss. “isn’t that most of the fun?”

author’s note: sorry y’all idk what came over me.

[6ix9inewiturmom]

Les - Chris Sturniolo

Summary: just listen to the song you’ll understand it

Warnings: EmotionallyUnavailable!Chris!, cursing, angsty-ish, Use of Y/N, crying, unestablished relationship, mentions of sexual acts

A/N: I absolutely love anything to do with childish Gambino so thanks for this request!! If you squint you can see some lyrics from Diet mtn dew from Lana del Rey in here lol ! PLOT TWIST AT THE END?!?!?!

PSA: DONT USE MY WORK FOR ISPARATION OR ANYTHING ELSE I WROTE THIS!! get creative

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Chris and i’s relationship wasn't the most ideal relationship. When we met we had both just gotten out of a long-term relationship and weren't looking for anything serious, so we made a mutual agreement to just ‘fuck around and find out’ type of relationship, but that was 2 years ago. He fucks other girls, but I hardly ever fuck anyone besides him, no one can ever make me feel as good as he does, and vice versa, because at the end of the day, I’m still the one he calls when he can’t ‘get off’ from someone else. No one knew or knows were just fuck buddies, to the outside eye, were just really good friends.

𝜗𝜚 Small flashback 𝜗𝜚

Chris had his hand around my throat in the hallway of this house party we were at, his lips explored my mouth making their way to my jaw and leaving little blueish marks on my neck.

“I hope nobody catches us” i whisper seductively with a big smirk on my face.

“But I kinda hope they catch us,” he says lifting his head with a cheeky smile on his face before placing a small kiss on my lips.

𝜗𝜚 End of flashback 𝜗𝜚

I knew the second I realized I was catching feelings for him I was fucked. I only wanted him, I could care less about any other guy if I’m being honest every time I fucked another guy I always thought about Chris, imagined his voice, his hands, and the way they traveled my body, his lips on my skin. I needed him so fucking badly.

I’m laying in bed staring at my ceiling debating whether to go to sleep or go see Chris. I needed to know if I needed to move on from him and the euphoric hold he had on me or if he actually wanted something from me.

Y/N

R u busy?

Chris?

I was debating whether to invite Kristi over but if you wanna come over feel free to 😏

Y/N

I just wanted to talk, Chris

Chris?

Doors open ma

Fuck.. Was I making a mistake? Should I turn around? This was a bad idea, I always lie to myself escaping from the fact I am in love with him. I get the courage to finally drive out of my driveway and make my way to Chris’ house for the majority of the drive, out of nervousness biting my fingernails and blasting music. What was he gonna say? What was he gonna do? Does he like me? Does he only wanna fuck me?

As I park my car in front of the triplet's house, I take a deep breath and slowly make my way up to the door. After a moment of hesitation, I open it and step inside, greeted by the familiar scent of attempted baked cookies for their YouTube channel. I climb the stairs and find Nick and Matt sitting on the couch, their phones in their hands as they laugh heartily at funny TikTok videos. The room is filled with the sound of their laughter and the glow of the screen illuminating their faces.

“Oh hey Y/N i didn't know you were coming over” nick says greeting me with a smile.

“I just came to talk to Chris, he said something about an idea he had for his personal YouTube channel and needed a ‘feminine’ touch to it” I lie laughing softly.

“Oh yeah good luck with that, kids hopeless for that channel” matt jokes smiling up at me from the couch.

With a gentle smile on my face, I make my way down the hallway towards Chris' room. As I approach his door, I raise my hand and knock softly before waiting for his response. Once I receive permission, I slowly push the door open and step inside.

“Hey ma” he smiles jumping up out of his bed and greeting me with a tight embrace with his arms around my waist pulling me into his chest before pulling away “So what'd you wanna talk about?” he continues before patting down next to him on the bed.

“Um, so I've been thinking recently, well not recently, a lot actually” I start looking down at my hands spinning my ring around on my middle finger. “Fuck it I'm just gonna go for it, I like you a lot Chris, like I know we're just friends with hidden benefits, and I know you're fucking other people, I've barely fucked anyone, and when I do I'm always thinking about you, and you just have this majestic euphoric hold over me and I can't fucking take not knowing how you feel about me any longer,” I say passionately standing up and looking at Chris and his facial expression isn't what I hoped.

“Listen Y/N,” he says standing up and grabbing my hand as if he is trying to let me down softly “You're an amazing person, you've got the best personality, and you're fucking amazing in bed” he chuckles to himself “I wanna try, but I'm in an awful guy, and I'm always away, basically what I'm trying to say is I'm a piece of shit,” he says looking deeply into my eyes.

“Chris..” I start swallowing the lump in my throat.

“No no, don't, I'm just not ready for anything serious, and if I was I would go straight to you,” he says in an attempt to make things better but fails immediately.

The tears start forming in the corners of my eyes “You're not good for me,” I say looking up at him as his hands cup my cheeks “But, Chris, baby, I want you, all of you, I can fix you,” my bottom lip goes between my teeth as a singular tear falls from my left eye. His thumb immediately wipes away the tear.

“Y/N, I'm sorry, you can't change my mind, as much as I am deeply attached to everything about you, head to toe, I can’t handle a relationship,” he says as his voice softens.

“Chris it’s been 2 years, we got out of a relationship at the same time, I'm completely over it, how much longer do I have to wait for you to be over it” my voice cracks as another tear falls down my face

“No one asking you to wait, Y/N, if you want to be in a relationship I'm sure there gonna be a guy out there that'll love and care for you,” he says backing away and sitting down on his bed.

“Chris that's the problem, I don't want anyone but you, YOU Christopher, just you” I sniffle out.

“I'm not really sure what to tell you, Y/N, I've spoken my peace, either you can agree to it, or not, cause to me I'm perfectly fine just fucking around,” he says almost unbothered at the face in standing in front of him pouring my heart out just for him destroy it.

I press my lips together and nod “Well if you change your mind, or come to your senses about these gold digger fuckers you bringing over to your damn house please feel free to contact me, if not, don't contact me” I say walking out slamming his door causing an array of stares from nick and matt.

“Everything okay?” matt quickly says as he notices the tears start to form in my eyes.

I take a deep breath “No but I'll be alright eventually but I'm not sure how much of me you'll be seeing around anymore” i say quickly wiping away the tear before it falls.

“Woah woah hold the fucking phone” Nick exclaims standing up and making his way toward me before bringing me into a fight embrace.

The immediate tears start flooding out of me as nick hugs me, which sends matt into a panic and immediately coming over to join the hug.

“So what happened” Matt says pulling away

“I told your brother i had feelings for him and he just acted insensitive” i sniffle out.

“You like Chris?” Nick says shockingly.

“I thought I did” I shrugged “but obviously he's not ‘ready’ for a relationship and apparently if I'm ready for a relationship then I should be in one but he wasn't really understanding I only wanted him” I dab away at my eyes which had tears forming in them.

“Kids an asshole, don't listen to him, he'll eventually figure out what he lost eventually,” Matt says almost unsure. “There's always any other single Sturinolo,” Matt says under his breath.

“What was that?” I say looking towards Matt.

“Uh nothing nothing, it doesn't matter,” he says nervously laughing and scratching the back of his head.

“Well, I better get going it's late anyway” i say giving my last hugs.

“Let me walk you out,” matt says grabbing my shoulder and leading me out the door.

“I can walk myself out matt” i smile up at him.

“Yesh I know but it'd be worth pissing off Chris if he saw me walking you out” Matt says smirking down as we make it to my car.

“Thank you matt” i wrap my hands around his neck and pull him in for a hug as his arms tightly go around my waist pulling me closer.

As we embraced each other tightly, I couldn't help but glance up toward Chris' window and notice a pair of striking blue eyes glaring down at us. The little eyes were filled with anger and disapproval, as if they were witnessing something they shouldn't. Matt was still holding me in his arms, grinning from ear to ear, but I couldn't shake off the feeling that we were being watched. Despite the warmth of the hug, I couldn't help but feel a little uneasy under the watchful gaze of those piercing blue eyes.

“Thank you matt” i say pulling away and opening the door to my car and adjusting myself in the driver seat.

“Anytime” he smiles back at me closing my driver-side door and walking back into the house.

Maybe messing around with Matt wouldn't be a bad idea, after all, Chris did say anyone would be lucky, but never said who…

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[domripley]

Love to Show You Off, Show What’s Mine

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff/Reader; Carol Danvers/Wanda Maximoff

Prompt: Exhibitionism - Kinktober2019

Warnings/Tags: Mechanic Nat, Exhibitionism, Daddy Kink/Sir Kink

You were excited to see Natasha - well, nobody could really blame you, you hadn’t seen her in a month. With college being miles away from the little town, you couldn’t wait to come back to see her. Although, knowing that Monday’s were one of her busiest week days, but she had texted you to come by right when you get to town, anyway.

So, you decided to stay back at your parents house for a few hours, wanting to surprise Natasha with two dozen of her favorite cookies. Having actually met her by luck - you both have a mutual friend: Clint. So when your car broke down, he pointed you into her direction. She fixed your car for free, even refusing when you were handing her the cash. So, you baked her a dozen cookies as a thank you. You were thankful that she at least accepted them.

Ever since then, you’d bring her a fresh batch every time you had come back from out of town. This visit was no different, a container in hand, you walked into the shop. Surprised to not only see Natasha, but also Carol and Wanda. “Hey, (Your Name)!” Natasha said, putting her wrench down onto the ground next to her work space. Jogging over to you, she pulled you into a hug.

“I missed you, Nat,” you whispered as she kissed your neck.

“I missed you too. Let’s go to my office, and catch up.”

Once in her office, Natasha took off her hat, setting down on her desk. You handed her the container of cookies. Natasha sat them down, “Thank you so much, but I’ll have to eat them later. I wanna taste something much better.” she winked, and you looked out the window to see Carol and Wanda still working on the same cars they had been working on when you got there.

“Nat… Wanda and Carol are both out there,” you whispered as she began to clear off her desk. You really didn’t care if they watched, or even joined in. It had been a fantasy of yours the day you had met them, and Natasha knew it.

“Yeah? And? You know that pretty little pussy gets soaked from the idea of them watching me fuck you,” she smirked, bending you over the desk. “Bet if I touched you, you’d be soaked. You wore this pretty little skirt for me, might just leave it on you.”

Lifting your skirt up, Natasha gasped with faux shock, she laughed, “Not wearing panties? Dirty girl,” You turned to look at her from behind when her hands left your body, watching as she unzipped her jumpsuit. She was packing - she always did. Even if she didn’t plan on having sex, she felt good when she did it.

“Please, Nat-” you whined, only to be cut off by a slap to your ass.

“Please what? Tell me what you want,” she breathed, getting down on her knees. Spreading your legs further apart, she leaned. Running the flat of her tongue between your folds, chuckling as she pulled away.

“I want your strap, want them to watch as you fuck me. Show them who owns my pussy,” you admit, and Natasha leaned in to bite your left cheek.

“I’ll be Right back then, Doll. But do you remember your safewords?” she asked as she stood up. You quickly got up from your position on the desk.

“Green for continue, I’m okay. Yellow for slow down, and Red for stop completely.”

You watched as she walked around her office, going through her drawers. “You want me to show you off to them, gonna show you off real nice.” she smirked, pulling out your favorite baby blue and pink ropes

—

Having you tied to the desk, Natasha called both Wanda and Carol back into her office. The look on their faces changed from a look shock to smirks in seconds when they realized what was going on.

“(Your Name) has told me, she’d love to have you two watch. If it’s not your guises thing, we both understand and you get the rest of the night off. Well, either way you can go home early!” Natasha smiled, running her hand up and down your thigh. Wanda’s eyes were glued to your pussy, feeling your cheeks heat up when you noticed.

“Oh, we’d love to stay and watch you fuck her,” Wanda smirked, looking as if you were prey.

“Definitely.” Carol agreed.

Natasha moved seats around so that they were on the same side of your head. You watched as she pulled out her bottle of lube from her desk drawer. Squirting some onto her hand, she began to jerk off her strap - nice and slow strokes as she kept eye contact with you.

“Please don’t tease me, want you now,” you cried, and she did exactly what you wanted. Rubbing the tip through your folds, she looked over to Wanda, who was busy fingering Carol. But the blonde kept watching Natasha’s movements.

“Beg me, beg me to stretch your pretty pussy.” She moaned, pushing the tip into your entrance before pulling it away.

“Please, Please Daddy, please fuck me, I need you, need to be used.” you begged, and Natasha gave you what you needed. Bottoming out, she turned your head to the side as she began her thrusts. The lube she used was cold, but helpful as you adjusted to the size of her strapon faster than usual.

“Do you see the effect you have on Carol? Poor little bottom needs to be fucked because of you,” she laughed, continuing to hold your head against the desk. Picking up her pace, Natasha used her free hand to rub at your clit. You were growing closer, but when you heard Carol moan, you lost it. Coming with a loud moan, she fucked you through it.

Pulling out of you, Natasha slapped your pussy. Not once, not twice, three times before easily slipping three fingers into you. Curling them up, you tried to wiggle away, only for her to slap your inner thigh with her free hand. “Color, (Your Name)?”

“Y-yellow, sensitive, hurts.” You whined, and she pulled her fingers out of you. “Wanna clean your cock, Sir.” You watched as her face goes red at the title. She hadn’t heard you say it in a month brought back memories as Wanda was now watching the two of you now.

Walking around the other side of her desk where your head was, she guided you down onto her strapon. You pushed yourself to take more of the toy to make Natasha proud of you (let’s be honest, you wanted the praise too). She hummed in acknowledgement as your nose touched your thigh. Her pace picked up as she fucked your throat, pulling away so you could breathe.

“Look at you, so pretty with tears in your eyes,” she cooed, wiping them away with the pad of her thumb. Noticing you weren’t responding, she was quick to untie you from the ropes.

Holding you, Natasha spoke up, “(Your Name) and I are going to be here for awhile, you’re welcome to stay if you’d like. I’m going to have to do some paperwork before I’m able to go. Plus she’d love to spend time with two of you.” You knew Natasha loved having her privacy with you, but she knew the two of you had three weeks to be alone together. So one night wasn’t going to be a big deal.

“We’d love that!” Carol smiled, and Wanda nodded.

Natasha smiled, kissing the top of your head. “Such a good girl, doll. I’m gonna get you a water bottle, and I want you to have a cookie you brought over for me. Okay, baby? I’ll right back.” she assured, picking you up and carrying you over to the couch in her office.

You were so glad you were able to have three weeks off, you missed Natasha. So, so much.

[fentyjjk]

synopsis she by tyler the creater and frank ocean

warnings stalking, implications of murder, stabbing, blood, breaking and entering, mentions of suicide, mentions of necrophillia, jimin is irrational, everyone sucks, fast-paced plot — unedited/revised

songspiration m.list

you were new in jimin's new life. you were the exciting that covered the mundane in his life. the boring, the repetition of everyday didn’t matter. the gym, library, gym, sleep. he hated it all. he was close to ending his life. he hated it every day the same shit, but then you moved in and he saw hope. almost immediately he knew he needed you to be his, you already were, you just didn’t know it yet.

he was so excited to make a move on you, just across the street from him he’d watch you get mail each morning and feed the stray dogs, you were so kind. you had such a kind heart and paired with your beauty—he was in love.

that first day when you came to his house offering baked goods your full cheeks pulling into a smile, he could’ve sworn he loved you the first time he saw you. you were curvy with detailed stretch marks, but he didn’t care. all the more he could love.

and he was going to, love you. in his mind it was time to make a move after carefully watching you from his window. mondays you worked from morning to night which was undoubtedly stupid because the neighborhood was dangerous, that’s probably why you moved in. cheap finacial housing due to the added risk of death from gun violence or rape that was also pretty common, but once you moved into his place he’d never let you be outside by yourself again. he’d protect you and kill any man that even tried touch you. that was true love. but back to the schedule. tuesdays were slower for you from morning to afternoon then you’d come home and stay inside all day. he could always see what you were doing. you weren’t keen on keeping your blinds drawn and when he got curious he traveled along the side of your house to your bedroom window. you had just got out of the shower, you were still wet. water traveled from your hair down.. down.. your body was beautiful even your stomach that protruded he loved it. soon it’d be bigger. he’d fuck so many little kids into you. then you’d truly be his.

the second time he watched you from the window you touched yourself, your moans were faint through the window, but they were all he needed to come untouched, your body slumped against the bed as did his against the grass outside, that was when he truly noticed the hold you had on him. he needed to do something.

saturday, your free day you were off and typically went to the gym on this day every two weeks. you weren’t serious about it he could tell. jimin managed to get past your shitty security after you left and overheard you on the phone complaining about how much you hate the gym when you came back. then the conversation turned to your new neighborhood. “its good here, shelbs, everyone here is so attractive and nice, and oh my God my one neighbor i think his name is jimmie or something like that, he was mowing his grass yesterday and he has this tattoo oh god, i wanna fuck him so bad.” you laughed about something your friend said before you began undressing putting her on speaker. “you know i rarely ever see him though, its like he stays inside all day, which i don’t mind more time to fuck.” jimin would’ve never guessed you were so provocative and horny, but he knew you were talking about him. his tattoo, his buffness, you wanted him. it was mutual.

thank god.

sunday rolled around and that’s when jimin was confident enough to ask you out. he spent most of yesterday in your bathroom cabinet and then in your bedroom watching you sleep.

so it had to be sunday, he wore his best outfit—a dark blue fitted shirt and dress pants. it was around four and now you were probably laying in bed watching tv, but you weren’t paying attention to the tv you were on your phone.

he checked your house through his window first before he unlocked his door slowly pulling it open when he did he slammed it shut again. junho was at your door with flowers behind his back he knocked two times and you opened the door. you smiled upon seeing him and then wider when you saw the flowers. you threw your arms around his neck and pulled him down hugging him.. maybe it was just a kind gesture. jimin thought you’re new to the neighborhood. there's nothing wrong with being friendly—that is until you began kissing him walking backwards into the house as he grabbed your ass. jimin's eyes became cloudy as he looked at junho’s arm littered with tattoos just like jimin's.

you weren’t talking about him, he never had a chance. you wanted junho.

“FUCK!” he threw the vase of flowers he bought you at the wall, crystal snow falling as a result. he went to his room grabbing the envelope of your photos. he tore each one slowly, enjoying watching your sleeping body being torn into two. he’d burn them later on tonight.

jimin sat there for hours surrounded by shredded pictures of your sleeping body. finally he stood. since when did you like junho.. was it always that obvious? was jimin oblivious to your attraction to him? did it matter? you fucking cunt! you led him on. you knew exactly what you were doing coming to his house in those tight ass jean shorts and that tank top. you knew! you did, you had too.

and for that betrayal he’d kill you and junho.

it was only fair.

he slowly crept into your house. he pushed open your bedroom door. there you were the cover barely hid your naked body, your body was perfect, he should’ve been the one to fuck you. walking over to you he trailed the dull blade across your bare thigh you shivered. fuck. you’d look so good pregnant. carefully, he lifted the cover and his eyes widened there on your stomach was a large gash junho’s arm across your body holding a bloodied knife.

he dropped his knife stumbling backwards. what the fuck, what the fuck. he heard laughing from the floor and saw junho climb over your motionless body knife in hand. he crouched in front of him as jimin whimpered tears spilling, “you know jimin the easiest way to get to a woman is through her heart not watching her through her window, and then once you’re in you kill her.” junho clicked his tongue, “no stalking, no planning, pure violent bliss.” he smiled, “i call it romantic homicide, and she was the easiest to get to.” jimin stared at the white bedsheets as they soaked up your blood. “she was so good too, her body, her moans, God, you should’ve seen her face when i stabbed her. i never came so hard.” junho stood, turning towards you. “tell you what ill let you fuck her too,” junho waved him up with the red knife, but jimin was still his ears burning hot, “what are you not into that kind of thing? its fun after a while, the girls can't tell you to stop it's better, i swear.”

jimin covered his ears rocking this wasn’t real this couldn’t be. “you’re such a little bitch, this is why you don’t have a girlfriend.” junho scoffed rounding the bed for his boxers. “her pussy wasn’t that good anyway man calm down.” junho faced him again, catching jimin's attempt to subtly grab his knife. junho approached him again, slamming his foot down onto his hand, crushing his knuckles. “don't do that.” jimin pushed at his ankle grabbing the knife with his left and junho swung kicking him in the head.

the world spun as he fell against your closet door, “maybe it’ll be easier this way i can just blame the murder on you.” junho’s words were faint as jimin faded in and out of consciousness. the world went dark. he was surrounded by a never ending abyss somewhere in the distance a white light appeared you were in the center walking closer to him in flashes you were right in front of him you cupped his cheek, you leaned forward and you whispered, “save me.” his eyes opened junho’s back was to him as he redressed rambling about how he was going to pin your murder on jimin, he was so stupid turning his back to him.

jimin grabbed the knife and stood swinging his hand he stabbed him in the neck retracting the blade blood sprayed from the deep cut as he collapsed spraying your sheets and the walls. jimin got on your bed shaking your motionless body. “you told me to save you, get up,” he shook you harder, “please, y/n, please get up.” he sobbed. “please,” he repeated, through tears he saw your fingers twitch, “yes, yes stay with me!” he grabbed your phone unlocking the device he smeared blood over the screen as he called the police, “i need an ambulance at ******** my girlfriend is dying.” he hung up softly rocking you in his arms.

“i-im dying..” you whispered your breathing labored he shook his head as a tear landed on your cheek.

“no, you’re not, you're alive and well, you’re okay.”

“i always knew..” jimin stilled, “i knew you were in my house and outside my window.” jimin shook his head.

“you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“—on my cameras,” you continued, “i never saw anyone at your house.. i know you’re lonely, but you should’ve just approached me,” you said sadly as the world began to fade, “i would’ve dated you, i would’ve pretended i didn’t know because you’re cute, but you never did.” you coughed blood onto your chest. “thank you for killing that fucker.”

“why didn’t you call the cops?” he asked as you held his hand.

“i understand that loneliness and needing something to hold onto.” jimin's head spun you knew this whole time.

“i would have killed you tonight.” you reached up stroking his cheek with your bloodied hand.

“but you didn’t.” you smiled. “goodbye, jimin.” you said as the world went black. he screamed as you passed out shaking you vigorously to no avail.

you were truly gone.

that is until you got to the hospital and they started pumping you of the blood you’d lost.

and when you awoke he was there by his side waiting for you. “hi, y/n,” he smiled.

“hi, jimin.” you smiled back reaching for his hand. “i love you.” his eyes widened.

“i love you too.”

he didn’t know you were obsessed with him too, killing every girl that attempted to steal his attention from you and when you thought he’d never actually try with you, you tried to be with junho and he tried to kill you.

this was the universe telling you that you two were meant to be.

[boricuacherry-blog]

Friday, July 20, 1962

To Dr. Ruth Beuscher:

First of all, please charge me some money. I feel a fraud and a heel to be cadging time and advice out of you for nothing...My last New Yorker poem [Tulips] earned me $270, so I can afford the luxury of a good psychiatrist, which is you.

The virginity, as it were, of our marriage ended Friday the 13th (Oh we are very superstitious in our house) & I went to a friend's with the baby leaving mother here with [two-year-old] Frieda & went through the whole bloody thing minute by minute.

At first I thought, why did he have to f*** this woman in this nasty way? Then, after I had got over the nausea, got the doctor to knock me out for 8 hours after a week of no eating or sleeping, I thought: Thank God. I am free of so much. And this was probably the most economical way to do it, although at the time of my misery I thought it the cruellest.

I remember you almost made me hysterical when you asked me if, or suggested, that Ted might want to go off on his own. This was heresy to me then, the Worst. How could a true-love ever ever want to leave his truly-beloved for one second? We would experience Everything together.

I began to worry about the purity & strength of my love when I found myself thinking: Why doesn't the bastard leave the house and let me put my hair up & dust & sing. I think obviously both of us must have been pretty weird to live as we have done for so long.

I was always having nightmares about Ted dying or being in accidents & for this reason could hardly bear to let him out of my sight. For fear he would desert me forever, like my father [who died from diabetes when Sylvia was eight], if I didn't watch him closely enough. And he must have had enough desire for womb-comfort to stick it out. Well, we are 30. We grow up slowly, but, it appears, with a bang.

I'm damned if I'm going to be a wife-mother every minute of the day. And as I am a pretty faithful type, and have no desire left for malice or revenge on Ted, to 'get back at him,' I'd just as soon make love with Ted. But coming from a distance, from a space, a mutual independence.

The little conventional girl-wife wanted Ted to come back & say: My God, how could I hurt you so, it will never happen again. But I knew I couldn't really stand him to say that, & he didn't. He told me the truth about the femme fatale. And I didn't die. I thought my capacity for conventional joy & trust & love was killed, but it wasn't. It is all back.

And I don't think I'm a suicidal type anymore, because I was really fascinated to see how, in the midst of genuine agony, it would all turn out & kept going. I really did believe it was the Worst Thing that could happen, Ted being Unfaithful; or next worst to his dying. Now I am actually grateful it happened, I feel new.

I have no desire for other men. Ted is one in a million. Sex is so involved with me in my admiration for male intelligence, power and beauty that he is simply the only man I lust for.

I know men feel differently about sex, but I thought, they, too, were capable of deep and faithful love. It is not very much consolation to me that Ted really deeply & faithfully loves me, while he follows any woman with bright hair, or an essay on Shakespeare in her pocket, or an ability for flamenco dancing.

The thought of Ted making physical love to them, registering them under my name in hotels, letting all the people we know see this, hurts and nauseates me horribly. I feel if he really loved me he would see how this hurt damages my whole being, makes it barren, and deprives me of joy in lovemaking with him.

All the stupid little things I did with love - baking bread, making pies, painting furniture, planting flowers, sewing baby things - seem silly and empty without faith in Ted's love. And the children who so delighted me are like little miasmas, crying for daddy.

-Sylvia Plath

[aramoredanil]

Harvest Festival: Pt. 1 It was that time of year again, and oh how so many things had changed. The first season they had spent this time together busy as all heck. A last-minute decision to host at my house that year meant few could reasonably make the trip past the plans already constructed. It was small, homie, and far more intimate than a large family gathering would feel like. There was an appeal in that, in a way. Getting to know one another along with the united House that was yet to reach its full and utter peak yet. The following year was worse. Spent worrying about feeding themselves let alone celebrating or rejoicing. The children were sent off to my family and mutual friends to at least get some flavor of the holiday. Though, it wasn't the same. It never could be. The following year was a blur. Between adjusting to a new place, a new fief, still settling jobs needing done in Duskwood. Children growing older and moving off to their own places in the world. Projects needing starting, working on, or finishing. There never seemed to be enough time that year for the family to breathe. Let alone invite more busy bodies into their fold. In the end, Harris and I entirely forgot about Harvest Festivals. So we ate cheap pandaren on a large fluffy couch and told funny stories that made me choke on every other sip of wine. I was convinced Harris kept doing that on purpose. Which brought us to this year. The fourth year celebrated with one another. The fourth Harvest Festival. I knew I want the celebration to be bigger and grander than ever. Considering how many years we had been denied a celebration worthy of both of our standings and friend groups. We knew so many damn people. Not to mention the new house and area we had come into possession of. With large enough dining hall and family spaces for everyone to feel comfortable in. We were already planning on hosting a winters veil get-together. Why not something like this too? It felt like I spent weeks prepping. Looking over recipes, getting into contact with suppliers, and reaching out to person after person far in advance. Making sure everyone had the right address, time, and day. Making sure all we wished to be there knew they were not only welcome, but desired to be apart of the festivities we were all due after so much stress ad pain.

So I cooked. I cooked for days and nights. Waking up at the ass crack of dawn on that thursday, and cooked some more. Help was brought in of course. Not to mention our guests were allowed and told to bring dishes they might like to have and share with everyone. Harris insisted on making his 'world famous' grilled cheese. Even if grilled cheeses were far more a summer-related food. Along with more appropriately being eaten around lunch time, but I digress. At the end of the night we had a list of food that spanned the entire following;

Turkey! Because it can't be a harvest festival without some sort of cooked bird. This one was slow oven baked, brined, and basted throughout the hour-long cooking time. Let's not forget about the butter and seasoning blend I had to shove into the turkey skin before cooking it. This thing was huge to boot. The witches will enjoy all the free bones they'll be getting after this. = Honey glazed ham. I have only ever met one person in my entire life that didn't eat any type of pork products, and that was because they thought pigs were too gosh darned adorable. Even then I think they would have said this honey-glazed ham I made was worth the time to eat, because, damn. Not only were our butchers in Silkmarsh apparently some of the best? - Regular smoked ham. - Grilled cheese. Harris insisted on making it, insisted. But he did do a pretty good job. Made with a blend of white and orange cheese that was pretty tasty. - Roasted mushrooms. Different sizes and textures and additions for them. Since some people we know don't do meat even a little bit, I wanted them to feel included with the feast element. - Mac and cheese. With oven toasted bread crumbs over top. You bet your actual butt I made this all from scratch. Whoever uses the goblin brand instant mac and cheese doesn't love theirself enough in my personal chef opinion. - Cinnamon-fried apples. Now my brother brought this. It was pretty okay, if you liked baked apples. People seemed to eat them! The texture was just too close to applesauce for me to really enjoy, and the bitch didn't remember if he had used pecans or any other nuts in them while cooking. The fool! - Sweet potato fries. Rajei brought these. Bless her and everything else she does. They were savory, and crispy, and such a fun adaptation on the typical use of sweet potatoes at festivals like this! Honestly dipped in gravy or mashed potatoes made them even more delicious. My goodness gracious. - Three different types of mashed potatoes. And I mean that in every literal sense of the word. There were golden creamy potatoes, some red and cheesy potatoes, then the entirely classic large white potatoes with butter and salt and such. To my surprise (not really) the red and cheesy potatoes went the fastest. Everyone loves cheese. - All the different kinds of gravy. Ham, turkey, chicken, and some mushroom vegetarian style! - Sweet dinner rolls. Mellestra and Thori'dal brought these. I'm rather certain they just bought some in Dalaran and brought them over, but I wasn't going to ask or hound them about not making their own specific dishes. They have kids! There's no time for that! (Unless its your profession that is...) - Spinach dip bites. Zora and her kiddos brought these for everyone! She isn't one of the vegetarians we were talking about, but she does know how to cook the greens better than any person I've ever met. - Roasted brussel sprouts with bacon. Zora also brought these. - Roasted carrots, and goat cheese. Would you BELIEVE if I told you that Zora also brought these? I know, shocking. One would never expect an archdruid to bring three separate vegetable centered dishes or anything. - Four different varieties of stuffing. Let met tell you something about stuffing. It is, by far, my favorite dish on a harvest festival table. - Creamed corn. It was deliciously spicy somehow? And topped with that crumbly cheese, bacon bits, and more sweet chili flakes. - Green bean casserole (The actually good home made kind) - Different degrees of cranberry sauce. From full berry to simply jelly. - Both types of cornbread (With corn bits and without corn bits.) - Butternut squash soup - Creamy pumpkin soup - The biggest batch of (Boozed and un-boozed) horchata one had ever seen (made with nut free coconut milk. Even if it'd normally be made with almond milk. So Eleyn can have some and not worry) - Literal serving tray-sized batches (plural) of flan - Autumn Harvest Punch (Which is made with apple cider, ginger ale, apple slices, orange slices, cranberries, and pumpkin pie spice)

Harris had been working out double the amount leading up to the official Harvest Festival day. I could tell by how much ice he needed whenever he came home from such intense work outs, and also how hot he suddenly ran while asleep or relaxed somewhere. The gains apparently never stopping. Along with the need to pre-burn all the calories we both knew he'd be in taking the day of.

[twinklelilstarkey]

The Wind - Rhett Abbott

Words: 4.4k+ Type: Smut Summary: You're a friend of the Abbotts and have been bringing them food for a while now. All it takes for you to act on your attraction to Rhett is just a little bit of wind. Warnings: Fem!Reader [no mentions of race or bodytype]. Mutual Pining. SMUT {piv, no protection, car sex, risk of getting caught (sort of)}.

I do NOT give you permission to repost my work. If you’d like to read my stories on other platforms, you can find them on my Wattpad and AO3.

By clicking to read more you are agreeing that you are over the age of 18 and mature enough to read mature scenes :)

You’ve always loved the Abbott family. Their friendship with your family has lasted decades and they’ve been a part of your life for years. Your properties are quite close to each other, so, it has become a habit for you to either drive or ride over to their house to visit, and vice versa.

You, Rhett, and Perry were inseparable when you were children. Always riding together in the late afternoons before dinner, always eating breakfast together on the porch of your houses, and many other things. By the time you got older, you drifted apart naturally.

You visit their house regularly, especially after Rebecca’s disappearance.

Your family agreed that you were the closest to them and made you even visit them more often, and, especially, bring food to them. After a total of nine months of no signs of Rebecca, you still did the baking and visiting.

Today is a great example of that. You got up early in the morning and made food for everybody. Right before the sun shined through the horizon and before your dad was out of the door to work at the stables. Now, you were planning to go to town to meet with some friends before lunch, so you're dressed accordingly.

You lock your car’s doors before making your way to the front door of the familiar house. One arm holds onto the food while the other does the knocking. You looked around while waiting, checking the clear skies and the green pastures in silence.

The door opens to a smiley Amy, already knowing it was going to be you behind the door. You smile as soon as your eyes land on her and lean down to wrap your free arm around the girl. She hugs you tight while continuously saying your name and how much she’s missed you - even though the last time you visited was 2 weeks ago.

“You missed me?” You ask her in a teasing tone while pulling away from the hug.

“Yes!” She nods happily, “Grandma had to remind me all the time that you were only coming today. I liked it better when you visited every week.”

You melt at her words and kiss the side of her head before making the small joke of how she has to convince her grandpa to let you through the gates first if she wants to see you more. Royal always felt like you were doing too much for them and felt bad to see you come back to their house with a pleasant smile and food every time. You were too good for them, so, he prohibited you from visiting so much (unless you came over simply to stay).

You close the door behind you when you get done playing around with Amy, and the voices in the kitchen become more evident. Amy leads the way, happily jumping around as she walks, and you follow her.

“She’s here!” She announces to everybody before you even get to the doorway.

Once you do, you offer everybody a smile, right before both Perry and Royal make sure to stand up to greet you with a hug. You hug them, and then move over to Cecilia, who is too careful with her food to leave it alone on the stove. You kiss her cheek, and she kisses yours.

“How are you doing?” You ask her as you stare at the food on the stove.

“Good, very good. How about you, sweetheart?” She asks you with a smile.

You answer her with a smile and put down the food on the counter. Perry is the first one to check out the food, lifting the wrapping paper before giving you a playful look and a thumbs up. You chuckle at his antics and soon feel Amy leaning against your hip as you talk to her grandma.

“Where’s Uncle Rhett?” You ask the little girl, making the older woman beside you lift her eyes to you.

“Sleeping,” Amy says with a tone like it’s obvious, making you smile at her. Should’ve guessed that one.

You talk to everybody with a growing smile on your face. Your hands are laid on Amy’s head, playing with her hair while she tells you about all that she’s done at the farm and school lately.

You listen to her every word as she looks high up at you and plays with the ends of your dress between her fingers.

Cecilia eventually takes another plate of food to the table, and the two men sitting by it are quick to take some of its content.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty,” Cecilia says beside you, making you look up.

Rhett stands by the doorway, eyes still a little heavy with sleep. He appears to have clean clothes on and his hair is brushed back. You’ve seen his hungover self a bit too many times to grow used to it, and he sure isn't hungover today.

“Morning.” He answers groggily.

You go back to the conversation with his niece and that’s the first time that Rhett even notices that you’re in the room. If anybody had been staring at him in that same second, they would’ve laughed because his entire demeanor changed.

His lifetime crush is standing in the kitchen for goodness sake, a man can only be discreet at so many things.

Rhett notices the casserole dishes on the counter beside you, a common thing whenever you’re at their home. His eyes move over to Amy, leaning against you while you play with her hair and laugh at what she’s telling you. The last thing he noticed before looking away with his eyes widened to capacity is the way you’re dressed. Flowery flowy dress, tight in the right places and making you stand out in the middle of everyone else at his house. God, you look beautiful.

“Have you eaten yet?” His mom asks you.

“Not yet, no.”

“What are you waiting for, then?” She asks you while retrieving a clean plate and handing it to you, “Use this one. I’m not letting you starve in my house.”

You thank her with a smile, walking with Amy to the table. The small girl is quick to choose her seat beside you, and you join the family table sooner than Rhett does. He steals a look at you again, looking at his father as he joins in your conversation with Amy, and walks over to his mom. Rhett grabs a clean plate for himself, as well as a knife and fork, and he notices that his mom is looking at him.

“Quit staring, you’re making it more obvious than it is.” She tells him, making the man straighten up right away.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He mumbles at her.

The two try to stay silent after his comment, but that itself makes his mom crack a smile. He soon follows right behind with a lipped grin.

Rhett walks over to the table and gives you your silverware before sitting down, to which you thank him with silent words and a smile in the midst of your conversation. Rhett freezes a little at the way your hands grazed, but he snaps right out of it.

“Do you have any plans for today?” Amy asks you.

“I do. Going to town for lunch with some friends.” You tell her, making the girl perk up.

“You’re free in the afternoon?” She asks and you nod. She leans in close to you and whispers, “Can you go riding with me?”

You chuckle at her and nod. Amy quickly turns to the other grown-ups at the table, looking directly at her dad before asking “Can I go riding today?” and grating the answer she wanted right away.

With a cheesy grin, Amy begins to eat her breakfast happily while you begin to serve yourself some food.

As soon as she's done turning off the stove and putting down the last plate of food, Cecilia joins the table as well and sits beside her son.

You all eat, talk and laugh, and you can’t help but look at Rhett in front of you. The way he smiles at his family and laughs with them, it makes your heart skip a beat every time. And Cecilia Abbott notices every bit of it.

(...)

“Don’t let her leave without them!” Cecilia quickly tells her son.

Rhett and Cecilia are the last people in the kitchen. Amy is on her way to school, and both Royal and Perry are already working outside. You had just said goodbye to everybody when Cecilia noticed that you hadn’t taken the dishes from the last time you brought food. And there’s nothing like forcing her very-in-love son to run after you.

You are just about to get inside your car when the front door opens to reveal Rhett. You offer him a confused smile when he looks at you in relief - due to the fact that you’re still in the driveway. You move away from the door of your truck to look at him better and notice the dishes on his hands, making you smile.

Rhett walks over to you, with (sweaty) palms and with his heart reacting fast with your smile, and he outstretches the casserole dishes to you.

“You forgot to take these.” He tells you.

“Thank you.” You say with your smile, “It would be fine if they stayed for some more time here, I’ll be back in another 2 weeks.”

He grins at your words, and you move to climb your truck and put down the glass casserole dishes over the passenger’s seat. You didn’t really think your actions through. Like, at all.

You are wearing a dress, one that isn't tight to your skin. It would only take the slightest of winds to lift it up. You are insanely oblivious to it, but Rhett isn’t. He’s not even sure his eyes have moved, or if he has inhaled any air ever since his gaze met the back of your thighs.

You struggle a little from the angle to safely put the dishes down, and reality sets right in as soon as the wind touches your body. It only takes a small brush of air for such a sheer fabric to fly upwards, but a hand stops it. Not your hand, Rhett’s. He was fast enough to grab onto the hem of the dress before it moved too much.

You finally step down to the ground once more and feel a familiar flame enlighten underneath your skin. When you had just stepped back down, Rhett’s hand smoothed over your leg.

The two of you look at each other with widened eyes for an entire second, before you snap each other out of it when you decide to speak.

“Thank you.” You say breathly with a shy smile.

Rhett leans his hand on the car door and shakes his head a little.

“No problem at all.” He answers, his voice sounding deeper and lower than ever before.

If that sound resulted in anything, it was worsen the heat on your body.

The two of you aren’t exactly standing far away from one another, as you are very much close. Rhett did take a step forward to reach for your flowing dress and that left you with almost no distancing from one another.

“I like this dress.” He comments, pointing at it.

“You do?” You ask, eyes lighting up at his words.

“Yeah, you look good.” He nods.

Your body burns at the way his eyes stay on your body for a few simple seconds after his statement. You almost have to shake yourself to react, not letting his choice of words go to waste.

“Well, if I’d known this sooner, I would’ve started wearing dresses more often.” You comment and that makes his expression break into a smile.

“I would appreciate it.” He says, “Very much so.”

You smile brightly at him, letting a chuckle escape from your mouth at how dumb this conversation has become. The two of you look at each other in the eyes for just a little longer before one of you speaks once more.

“You need to be more careful with the wind, though.” He comments. “I’m sure you don’t want to expose half of town whenever you jump out of the truck.”

You shrug before answering, wanting to be playful with your next words, but making them sound with something extra on your tone.

“I could always have you stay behind me and hold it down.”

That makes Rhett take a step closer with a chuckle, and you let loose one of your infamous beautiful smiles. Those that make the man before you weak without fail. You look up at him, not even taking a step back, and Rhett eyes you down.

“Would you like that?” You ask playfully.

“I would.” He answers, laying his hand on your waist.

Your chests are almost touching. Almost to the point that if you take a deeper breath, they will. You two look at each other’s faces, stopping every time at either each other’s eyes or lips. His hand is warm and the way it holds you makes your heart beat faster at the possibility of accomplishing your own thoughts.

Rhett watches as you lick your lips, but you look over in the opposite direction of the house - stopping yourself. When you bring your eyes back to him, he’s staring at you and your body with absolutely no shame, and you lean back onto the car, breaking your breathtaking proximity.

“I should probably get going.” You tell him, much to his disappointment which is very noticeable.

Rhett thinks about answering but he can’t bring himself to agree with what you say. You continue to stare at him for a little longer, tilting your head to the side while grinning. His emotions just become easier and easier to read with time.

He looks at you as if in a punishing way, making you chuckle and begin to turn to face your truck. You playfully roll your eyes a little bit at the way he stands there, dramatically, and you try to listen in for anybody that could be close by and able to hear the two of you.

“Unless you want to keep me company until down the road.” You offer, almost making your heart explode the risk of your own words.

Rhett doesn’t react to you right away, visibly at least. Once he does, he opens his mouth to speak with a nod, and relief hits you. You face him entirely once more and interrupt him before he can even begin to spit it out.

“Get in, then.”

Without saying a word to you, Rhett goes around your truck and jumps in the passenger seat - making sure to not sit on the dishes. The two of you close your doors, and you try to ignore the way your hands begin to shake as you turn the key in the ignition.

It’s a quick drive out of the driveway and it doesn’t even take you 10 seconds to move the car down the road, distant enough from the house and where no one can see you two.

You aren’t sure what happened next as everything moved so quickly, but, as soon as you were parked, you got off your seat and Rhett pulled you close by your thighs, sitting you right on his lap.

Your lips connect in a kiss right after. Rhett’s hands dig into the soft flesh of your thighs, going under the fabric of the dress and touching the skin he has dreamed of touching for so long. Your hands get lost in his hair, brushing through the strands and clinging onto them.

Rhett groans into your lips when you pull on them a little too hard, and his hands move to your ass. You’re the one to vocally react this time, moaning into his mouth as his rough hands grab, squeeze yet drag your hips closer to his.

Both of your movements are chaotic and filled with hunger - a feeling both of you have had enough for years. Your kisses are rough and sloppy yet they do the job just fine, and the grinding of your hips on his is becoming filthier by the second.

Your hands leave the back of his head and dip to his belt. Your fingers work through the large buckle, hearing it clink in the heavy air of your car. Rhett’s lips leave yours while you move, trailing down your cheek and jaw with kisses, all the way down to your chest. While you work on his jeans, he lifts one of his hands from your ass to bring it over to your chest, pulling at the fabric and exposing more of your to him.

You work through the button and zipper next and let out a sigh at the feeling of Rhett’s lips on your chest. The fabric can only be pulled down until one point, but he’s pleased with what he can have. The softness of his wet lips and the warm sensation of his tongue on your warming skin... All of it almost makes you lose concentration.

Rhett pulls away from you and helps you pull down his jeans and, right after, his boxers. He leans his head back on the seat as soon as your hand wraps around his cock. The warm feeling of your smaller and softer hand fitting around his dick, all while he watches and looks down at his lap to see you do it.

His hand soon disappears under your dress too, and you gasp as he is quick to move your panties to the side and work his fingers through your slit. His fingertips are soaked right as they reach your entrance. That and the sweet sound that leaves your mouth fills his chest with pride.

“Rhett.” You whisper at him as his fingers work over your clit, coated with your wetness and easily circling the bud.

The two of you meet in a kiss once more. The kiss was just as messy as before, yet both of your minds aren’t exactly there. The both of you can only think of each other’s hands, hips moving to meet either your palm or fingers. The soft moaning and groaning are more and more evident with the kiss.

Rhett pulls you closer to him with his vacant hand on your hip, and you disconnect from the kiss. You move closer, and Rhett pulls his hand away from you. You sit up on your knees and are quick to line his tip with your entrance.

Before you even get to move, you feel Rhett’s hold on your hips tighten already. You smile against his lips before finally sinking down onto his lap, making the both of you react slowly to the sensation. Mouths open, breathing stopped and pleasure coursing through both of your bodies.

You move slowly, giving yourself time for comfort, and as soon as you’re completely sat over Rhett’s lap, the two of you look at each other for just a second. One of your hands stays in the crook of his neck, while the other one moves to hold onto the door beside you. All while Rhett’s hold onto you securely.

As soon as you begin to lift from his lap, the two of you are lost. Neither of you tries to say anything, all that is heard in the car is your heaving breaths and Rhett’s small deep exhales. Your body adjusts quickly to his size, and you begin to move quicker on his lap.

The feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you, coated with your wetness, makes pleasure increase, making your bodies tense up, yet, at the same time, melt further into each other’s touch.

Rhett stares at you like he would stare at a goddess. The way you move up and down on his lap, your dress still beautifully on your figure and moving with your actions, the way your wet and tight walls squeeze onto him, and the way your hand curls into a fist on his shirt. All of it he has dreamed more times than once in his life, and, now, he has all of it in front of him.

Your movements begin to fasten, making the two of you let out even heavier breaths. Rhett’s hands have begun to work and help you stay steady on his lap. You can already feel the knot of pleasure in your stomach tightening. It’s a mixture of both your actions and the situation the two of you are in. Literally just down the street from his home, yet still on his property, where anyone can just drive by and see you.

Your moans begin to be more apparent, and the pleasure seems to double every time you remember the situation you’re in. Your lips meet with Rhett’s again. One of his hands comes up to your cheek to hold your head steady and the two of you try to focus on kissing while deep down knowing you cannot.

A sheer layer of sweat covers your bodies, and the windows are beginning to fog up ever so slightly.

Rhett’s hand moves away from your cheek while deep in the kiss and disappears under your dress. His fingers find you almost right away and soon, they lay over your clit. He lets out a groan at the way your walls squeeze him as a reaction to what he did. He begins to circle it, moving easily with your wetness.

You pull away from the kiss, finding it impossible to focus on that, and moan, feeling pleasure beginning to grow further and your sounds becoming naturally louder. You lean your forehead against Rhett's for a second, and, when pulling away, the two of you look at each other. Adoring eyes staring back at each other.

Your hand lifts from the side of his neck over to his hair, your fingers work through the strands and, whenever the pleasure grows, you cling onto it. Rhett’s finger over your clit moves with more pressure and you moan, trying to keep your movements steady.

The sensation of his finger is different than yours. His hands are rougher and harsher. And, slowly, all of it keeps sending you into what feels like overdrive due to how much stimulation you seem to be getting at the smallest of things.

Rhett feels you squeeze tighter and tighter around his dick and he knows he isn’t far behind. Seeing you consumed by pleasure has to be one of the best sights he has ever encountered. His hand on your hip almost does nothing to control your movements, but the feeling of your soft silky skin is enough to drive him closer to his climax.

Your moans soon begin to be breathy whimpers as pleasure grows impossibly further with time. Your breathing is heavy and your body is indeed sweaty. It feels stuffy for the both of you to be in such a small space, yet the two of you are too lost in your own bodies to focus on anything else.

Finally, you feel the tightness on your lower abdomen snap and hot pleasure run throughout you. You moan as Rhett moves closer to make sure you don’t falter any of your movements. The wet walls of your cunt squeeze him, and he knows he’s close.

You continue to elongate your orgasm, continuing to move your hips, and Rhett’s finger also never stops working on your clit. Your hold on him is tight and, with just a few more thrusts, you feel his cock twitch inside of you.

Your orgasm has subsided and your pussy already feels slightly sore at the sudden stimulation right after such a powerful climax, but you never stop.

The slapping of skin in the car sounds wetter as you continue and you feel Rhett’s cum inside of you. You begin to move slower and slower when you notice that his hold on you begins to lift up, and your eyes meet.

Rhett is leaning back on his seat and you're seated over his lap still. The two of you breathe deeply while looking at each other it takes some long seconds of silence for the two of you to recollect yourselves.

You feel Rhett’s hand lift from your hip and you break eye contact to see where his hand goes. He opens the window beside you, letting fresh air into the vehicle, and the cold breeze hits your sweaty bodies, making you two sigh.

Rhett’s hand comes back up and stops on your cheek. He pulls you in swiftly into a kiss, and you gladly kiss him back. This kiss is much softer and sweeter. His warm palm stays in place and you two smile when pulling away.

After just short seconds of silence, Rhett speaks.

“You’re telling me that I could’ve asked you out this entire time?” He asks, voice slightly coarse, but his words are enough to make you laugh.

“Yes.” You nod with a smile, “Ever since middle school.”

He purses his lips in the slight disappointment of all of the time lost but it is soon forgotten when your lips meet once more.

I'm not exactly proud of this, but I hope you guys like it!

Lmk if you have any Rhett thots

[yuriwritestwst]

Asking someone in for a drink is boring, basic, and generic. Asking someone to help you figure out a cast iron pan is fun, attractive, and incredibly hot to Trey, your barista that you want to kiss very much.

Notes: Trey Clover x GN!reader, café!AU, barista Trey, office worker reader, mutual pining, Cater shows up as a wingman and a menace, i am a trey lover (evidently)

CW: frequent mentions of food, minor and brief mention of blood for when Trey cuts his finger while cooking, making out and suggestive during final part but everything before it is fluff

It’s almost a little tragic when you get off your train stop and see the street where your company building is for the first time, specifically the Starbucks across the street with a line trailing out through the doors and covering up the entrance of the café right next to it. You almost miss it completely had you not been so hesitant on joining the growing crowd. Sure, you have some time before orientation starts, but being late on the first day isn’t something you particularly want either.

So, you take a leap of faith and open the door to Cloverly, an empty coffee and pastry shop overshadowed by the popularity of Starbucks. You’d go in, order a hot coffee, and if it sucked, never come back again. No big deal.

“Welcome in.” Your eyes shift from the menu posted above the counter to a man with green hair unlike anything you’ve seen before, but somehow, it works. He’s been baking, you note, evident by the flour lightly dusting his apron and face with his glasses askew. “What can I get for you today?”

Something about him is so pretty that you almost forget to speak.

“Just one hot coffee, please,” you say after a prolonged pause. He nods and starts to turn around to start brewing.

“Feel free to make yourself at home while you wait,” he calls from over his shoulder. “You’re probably the first person to come here during the morning rush instead of next door.”

“Can you blame me for wanting to skip that line?” He seemed friendly enough, so maybe this wasn’t an awful idea after all. “I mean, I love supporting small local businesses.”

That gets a hearty laugh out of him. Incredible. How do you make that happen again?

“You won’t regret it.” He grabs a paper cup from the side. “I quite literally spent all four years of college coming up with this blend, and all my friends tell me it’s pretty good.”

“If I spent four years of my life studying beans, and all my friends said it was just, ‘Pretty good,’ I’d go insane.” It’s another joke that makes him chuckle. Yes, this is going well.

“Then I hope you come back again with a raving review.” He doesn’t have to, but he opts to walk around the counter to personally hand you your cup. You’re more flattered than you should be, and when you get up to leave, he even opens the door for you, telling you to watch your step because the entrance and the sidewalk aren’t exactly leveled but that’s how he got the lease for cheap.

Again, flattered.

“Well, in any case, even if I hate the coffee, at least I have something to say about the stellar customer service and the owner’s unending business-related wisdom.” Carefully, you make sure not to trip. “Thanks for not-an-awful morning…?”

“Trey,” he answers, patient smile turning into a grin with a raised eyebrow. “If you’re bothering to ask for my name, can I get my hopes up for my first regular customer?”

“Don’t hold your breath.” You laugh it off, but after interacting with this man for only ten minutes, you have a feeling that you’re already in too deep.

-

And you were right, because after taking a sip of what can only be described as the best coffee you’ve ever had, you find yourself waking up earlier than you need to and standing right in front of Cloverly again the very next morning. You don’t know why nobody’s ditching the Starbucks line, especially when Trey’s house blend is practically magic to your tastebuds compared to whatever the larger chain offered, but when you walk into the much more peaceful café, the calm does relax your morning nerves.

“Told you it was good,” Trey says, leaning on the cash register with a knowing look. It was almost as if he was expecting you to come back.

“Good morning to you, too.” You set your bag and jacket down at a seat in front of the counter. Trey looks delighted.

“And you’re dining in today?” he asks, grabbing a clean white mug. “What did I do to deserve such a fine morning?”

“I have some time today,” you respond casually as if you didn’t set your alarm an hour earlier the night before. “Can I get another coffee?”

“Anything else?” he asks over the coffee grinder. “No breakfast or anything?”

You pause and think. Two days of work definitely didn’t establish the income for both a coffee and food every morning. Not yet at least.

“Just a coffee, please,” you clarify, hoping it didn’t come off as too rude. He doesn’t seem to mind, humming in affirmation.

“So, are you new in town?” he asks once he’s served you your drink and is busying himself with setting up today’s pastry display. You eye at the croissants, sandwiches, and cakes behind the glass display. More tempting than you’d like, just like the person who made them.

“I just moved in a couple of weeks ago for a new job,” you say between slow sips. “Across the street, actually.”

“Pretty impressive,” he responds with a whistle. “I don’t think I’d ever be able to handle cooperate life. I used to go to an all-boys private school and couldn’t stand being stuck in a tie all day.”

“Well it’s only my second day, so who knows?” you joke. “Maybe I’ll end up hating corporate too and move back home.”

“Then I hope they treat you well over there.” You hear the sound of paper and the display case closing. A small bag finds its way next to your mug of coffee. “Would hate to lose my only regular.”

“And is this a bribe to keep said regular?” you ask, failing to contain the smile that spreads across your face. “Or are you trying to milk as much money out of me before I leave now that I’ve presented the possibility of jumping ship?”

“Yes?” he tries. Funny. “No, I’m just kidding. These are on the house. Consider yourself a guinea pig for my newest creations?”

“I’ve always wanted to be a guinea pig,” you say sarcastically. “But thanks. Really. I’ll make sure to consider it when I inevitably write a flaming review on Yelp about you.”

“Make sure to be detailed as possible.” Again, he walks around the counter to open the door for you, almost as if he’s been doing this for you for ages. “You know how popular this place is. If your review is a little too boring, I might not see it.”

And like you’ve known him for more than two days, you laugh, bid your farewell, and carefully step out so that you don’t trip and fall.

“Keep an eye out for one that starts with, ‘If I could give this place 0 stars, I would.’ I’ll be extra dramatic about it, just for you.”

And true to your word, during your lunch break, you sit out in the lobby of the office building with leftovers from a meal you almost burnt last night and the little paper bag Trey handed you earlier in the morning. When you open it, you’re greeted with small cookies decorated with what seemed to be like candied flower petals. They’re appropriately sweet, aromatic, and surprisingly light—so good that you do decide to install Yelp on your phone, create a profile, and find Cloverly’s exciting page with no ratings and zero reviews.

‘Pretty good’ becomes the first customer comment that launches Cloverly’s average to 5 stars.

-

Work, to nobody’s surprise, is tiring, especially as a young adult fresh out of college. You quickly learn that the things professors said were important in lectures aren’t important in the office and that the things professors said weren’t important are important in the office and everywhere else. It’s a delicate, anxiety-inducing balancing game, dealing with superiors that are alarmingly picky and not at all picky at the same time, and you feel like you’ve been thrown in cold water.

You’re satisfied with your team for the most part, however. While the team leader, an experienced employee, really only took questions during work hours to maintain a ‘healthy work-life separation,’ newbies didn’t receive this luxury. More often than not, you found superiors dumping so much dirty work on you during your shift with wildly unrealistic deadlines that you always had to do overtime or take home to finish. Again, the saving grace and perhaps the only thing that kept you sane was the fact that your team had other new hires. That, at least, prevented you and your struggles from feeling too alien.

And then three months after you’re hired, just when you think you’re getting the hang of everything and spending less of your personal time figuring out office agendas,

the building’s power fails and everybody is sent home early, walking back into the office the next day to discover that every and any saved files were gone for good. Amidst the company-wide scramble to redo everything from scratch and meeting unchanging, strict deadlines, administration had made the decision to change over to a new system. Specifically, one that auto-saved to a backup cloud.

“You look like you need an extra shot today,” Trey says, grimacing from the register when you walk in. “What happened to you?”

“Gee, thanks,” you mutter rather dryly. “And not that it’d interest you, but the company decided to do a big switch, so I spent most of last night reading the system manual. I want to be prepared before today’s client meeting, or at least sound like I know what I’m doing.”

“Well, on the bright side, if your building loses power another time, we won’t have you pulling all-nighters to finish who knows what.” That’s the thing you like about Trey. Even if he could care less for corporate life, he never failed to listen to your almost-daily rants, bringing up things that even you might have forgotten about.

(“Excited for your meeting today?” he says offhandedly one time as he pours your coffee.

“What meeting?” you ask, alarmed.

“I thought you said last week that you have a meeting with a supervisor today.” He frowns. “Maybe I have it wrong.”

Except he doesn’t have it wrong, and to this day, still, you thank the stars that Trey is always so reliable. Perfect people do exist.)

“What’s for breakfast today?”

“Any recommendations?” you ask, taking your usual seat. You knew Trey thought about cooking 24/7 and practically dreamt about new recipes in his sleep, and the way his voice lilts when he asks you about your order today is the tell-all for you to know he wants you to test something for him.

“I’ve got a new breakfast sandwich idea.” His grin betrays his previous discretion. “Scrambled eggs, cheddar, spinach, and lightly caramelized apples in a croissant.”

“You know I’d eat anything you make,” you laugh, which was true. You were never a big fan of spinach, but Trey’s never failed to change your mind on your food opinions.

“And that’s why you’re my favorite regular.” He walks back into the kitchen. You can’t see him, but you know from routine what he’s doing from every sound he makes. The opening of the fridge, the setting of the pan on the gas stove, the rapid beating of eggs with his favorite $43 Williams-Sonoma nonstick whisk; you know this café inside and out.

And then a low hiss of pain. That’s a new one.

“Are you okay?” you ask a little loudly from your counter seat, craning your head to see if you could peak at him through the entranceway of the kitchen.

“Yeah, everything’s good,” Trey lies between his teeth. You hear the immediate rush of water from the kitchen sink and all but run from your seat, grabbing the first-aid kit from under the cash register. Catching Trey looking rather guilty with his finger under a stream of cold water, you sigh.

“I can’t believe you’d lie to your favorite regular.” Looking around, you find some paper towel. “Is nothing sacred?”

“It’s just a small cut,” he laughs. The blood that rushes from his finger the moment he removes it from the water isn’t very convincing. “It just looks bad, that’s it.”

You take his hand in yours, causing Trey to stiffen at the sudden physical contact. You don’t notice it, or at least you pretend not to and focus instead on applying direct pressure onto the cut with the paper towels you swiped seconds ago.

“Hey, easy there,” he chuckles. “My hands are my entire livelihood. Would hate to have my finger crushed.”

“Yeah, they’re pretty too,” you say, looking intently at his calloused palms and gorgeous fingers. Tens across the board. “Would hate to have these beauties scarred.”

Trey doesn’t say anything and simply watches you reach for the alcohol wipes in the first-aid kit, wincing slightly at the sting. It’s completely quiet, but you aren’t bothered by the silence much to your surprise.

“Yours are also…”

“Did you say something?” you ask, looking directly into his eyes.

“I asked if you do this often.” He tilts his chin toward the band-aid. “You’re pretty good at this.”

“You mean do I go into baristas’ kitchens when they cut themselves and wrap their bandaids for them?” You feel yourself about to laugh again. “No, only for you. Promise.”

“I’d expect nothing less from my favorite regular.”

-

Trey goes to bed that night, the image of your meticulous fingers on his hand, touching, making contact. He thinks of your laugh and searing gaze and how you smile when you bite into his newest sandwich and how he always gets a whiff of whatever shampoo you use when you walk past him by the door on your way out.

“No, only for you. Promise.”

He turns over in his bed, groaning. Reaching for his phone, he opens up Yelp and types ‘Cloverly’ in the search bar.

“Pretty good.” He reads it over and over again in his head like a mantra.

This is ridiculous.

-

“Three nights, huh,” Trey muses one morning sitting across from you. The two of you have fallen in the habit of eating breakfast together at one of the tables. “What’ll you be doing?”

“Just meeting with other branches and maybe some collaborating companies,” you muse in between bites of avocado toast. “Not really too sure, but it’s all expenses paid, so who even cares?”

“True,” he laughs. Something unreadable crosses his face.

“Don’t miss me too much,” you joke. “It’ll just be three days of eating breakfast alone. Try not to die.”

“Oh, the horror.” He sets his tea down and clutches his chest. Drama queen. “I can’t believe the worst three days of my life are happening in a week.”

(He hates that he means this.)

“Yeah, who else will listen to you rave about your favorite brand of flour?” you say with a roll of your eyes.

“I keep telling you that you’re opening Pandora’s Box when you ask me what’s special about what you’re eating.” He looks like he might start again, in fact. “Like, really, the muffins today-“

And you let him start, because when Trey gets going on his food talk, he always looks like he’s about to burst at the seams out of sheer excitement. He’s ten times more energetic whenever you comment on how you can taste something new, even when you don’t actually, but to get to see him so animated, so ecstatic—it’s a treat on its own every single time. Sure, you’re not a genius in the kitchen like he is, but he’s even happier when you ask questions. It’s your little way of spoiling him or even thanking him for all the freebies he’s given you in this past year.

“You’re right,” he finally says, as if true realization hits him this time. “What happens if I find a really good brand of oat milk when you’re gone?”

You pause mid-sip, and Trey raises an eyebrow. This is your chance.

“If only there was a way we could keep in contact, I don’t know, digitally?” you sigh in exasperation. He startles when you shoot him a very pointed glance before sighing again.

“Sorry,” he says regaining composure. “I told you, I can’t do corporate, so you won’t be expecting any faxed messages from me.”

“Only you would respond to me like this when I’m very clearly asking for your number, Trey Clover,” you mumble and send him a glare for extra emphasis. A chill goes down his spine, not because he thinks you’re actually mad but because you’re asking him for his number, looking at him rather intensely, and just called him by his full name. Again, ridiculous.

“I’m kidding,” he soothes, clearing his throat. “I hope you don’t mind me being a dry texter.”

“I’d expect nothing less.” You take your phone back after he enters his contact information in as ‘Trey Clover’. This is obvious, because what else is he supposed to write? You’re tempted to edit it to ‘Trey Clover (HOT Barista)’ but choose not to. Instead, you decide to be the first one to send him a text, a picture of the latte he made for you this morning.

“Don’t get mad when I text you in the dead of night about the texture of oat milk and the flavor it adds to lattes,” he warns jokingly. Your phone buzzes when he responds with a thumbs emoji.

“I welcome it, actually. Oh and one more thing.” He looks up from his phone to you with a smile that nearly stops your heart. It’s your turn to cough. “My team manager is picking up from the office next week and driving us to the airport. I want to get them some breakfast, so would you hate it if I pre-ordered six croissants, some homemade jam, and coffee?”

And to think his smile couldn’t get any wider.

“No problem. I’d love that actually.”

-

Trey wonders if he’s being too clingy and is overstepping boundaries when he decides to text you the night the two of you exchange numbers. He knows it was with the pretense of your business trip the following week, and he’d be seeing you tomorrow anyways. He doesn’t know if you only had meant for this whole texting thing to be for those three specific days, doesn’t want to ask, and doesn’t want to actually know.

“Well, tbh, it’s pretty weird that you guys haven’t done this sooner,” Cater says to him through the phone. When in doubt about phone-related fiascos, always ask Cater. “You’ve been besties for a whole year and haven’t exchanged numbers?”

And that’s Trey’s exact problem because he doesn’t exactly know what you consider him. Maybe not ‘besties,’ but could he even comfortably call the two of you good friends? He sure wants to, but at the end of the day, he figures he’s just some guy who cooks for you.

“Besties is a little…” Trey starts, but Cater cuts him off with a tsk.

“Trey, you dial me up every other day to talk about how this special customer of yours sampled something you made and said it was good.” Even without having ever met you, Cater feels like he, too, has known you for a year. “You don’t do that for other customers. Trey, you realize you have other customers right? Or else there would be no way for you to keep paying your rent. If you had one customer for an entire year, you’d be eating dirt off the street!”

Trey doesn’t say anything to that. It’s hard when Cater, per usual, hits the nail exactly on the head.

“So what I think is that you should send your crush a text about whatever,” Cater continues when he doesn’t get a response. “A person who’s been listening to you go off about bread crumbs is bound to consider you at the very least a friend. And you’re not a bad guy or anything, so go for it.”

And he does, sending you a photo of freshly baked cookies along with a simple message: “Hey, this is Trey, your barista. The chocolate pieces this time are the right size and bitterness.”

“Remember,” he recalls Cater’s words, “the worst response you could get isn’t no response but a, ‘K.’”

And he gets neither of these. What he gets is a notification that you’re trying to FaceTime him, and he’s so surprised (nervous) that he nearly drops his phone out of shock (butterflies).

His fingers are shaking when he accepts the call and becomes evidently aware of how bad he looks but also how good you look. Of course, he’s always known that you look good, but seeing you outside of office attire is new and like a breath of fresh air. And, if he’s being entirely honest with himself, it feels a little bit more intimate.

“I know I said I’d text, but,” you say through the screen. Beautiful. Breathtaking. Ridiculous. “It’s easier to talk like this, and I just know that you, Trey, my barista, have a lot to say about the chocolate or whatever.”

And for almost ten whole seconds, he forgets he initially messaged you to talk about his cookies, because wow. He’d have to bake Cater some meat pies later as a thank you gift.

(“Now these are Cay-Cay certified bangers,” Cater says in between mouthfuls and camera clicks on his phone. “So when are you gonna ask your crush out?”

Trey chokes. Cater also gets this part on camera.)

-

Trey, regrettably, doesn’t take into account that the days you’re away leads right into the weekend, and when the office is closed on the weekends, you don’t show up. Fair, because why would you?

It bothers him a lot more than he’d like to admit, even after exchanging now regular “Good morning” texts with you. Five days without seeing you in person is a lot, and he knows it’s probably not how he should be feeling about one of his customers. A comforting part of today, though, is the fact that it’s busier than usual.

Sure, a handful of new customers shouldn’t be this big of a deal, but when some of them come in and say off-handedly that one of their coworkers bought them a heavenly croissant before a business trip, he can’t help but smile.

“They’re a regular here,” he says proudly. Proud not so much at the idea of having a regular, but more-so that you, specifically, are said regular. He wonders if he’ll get more in the near future, getting his hopes up when he sees some people post his food onto social media.

And so, even though he’s feeling just a bit lonely, he closes down at 4 PM, cleaning and getting ready to go home. That is, until he hears a knock on the door and snaps his head to see you through the glass. Best day ever.

“Hope I’m not being too much of a bother,” you say sheepishly after witnessing him unlock the door. “I brought you back some jam as a souvenir, but I don’t really know how to store it, and I didn’t want it to go bad, so.”

“Thanks. It looks good.” Normally, he’d be pretty excited about a new ingredient to test out, but he finds himself caring less about the jam and more about seeing you for the first time in what feels like forever. Not even a late night call could beat the real thing.

“How have you been?”

“Good.” And then he remembers. “Thanks for advertising my stuff by the way. I think some of your coworkers came in today to buy more stuff. Surprisingly busy, but I could get used to it.”

“It’s not a big deal,” you laugh, leaning against the wall. “I’m just, you know, supporting my favorite local business.”

“Well, I don’t do well with favors unpaid. Is there any way I can make it up to you?”

“You could take me on a date,” you blurt out before you can even think straight, and you know for a fact that your face must be beet red, because who just says something like that? When there’s a brutal amount of silence, you feel like running away. “Uh, only if you want, of course. It’s okay if you don’t-“

“No,” Trey says barely above a whisper. His voice is shaking, and you’re not sure if he wants to cry because he’s so horrified at your confession or if he’s just mad at you.

“No worries. Really, Trey. It’s fine.” You spin on your heel, rushing to get away, to go somewhere and maybe hide for the rest of your life. A calloused hand grasps at your wrist, startles, and releases you at the drop of the hat when you turn back to look at him in surprise.

“No, I mean--I’d like that a lot.” He breathes in and out slowly, not knowing what to say next. He just knows he wants to be with you and see you all the time and hopes he can keeping going off of that. “We can go right after I finish cleaning up. If you want to. Anywhere you’d like. Also, my treat.”

“I want to.” You smile at him, and he gives you a goofy grin, because now the both of you are embarrassed. “I really want to.”

-

(Trey takes you out as promised to his favorite restaurant and explains what he likes about each dish, each ingredient, each flavor as they arrive. It’s fun, watching him nerd out about the things he’s passionate about and then to see him flustered when he catches himself. It’s even more fun when he treats you extra special, pulling your chair out for you, wiping any stray crumbs off your face, paying for the bill, and walking you home even though the train takes him in the complete opposite direction of where he lives.

He’s sweet, and you’ve never wanted to kiss someone so badly.

Meanwhile, Trey’s heart soars; after all, it’s the first meal he’s sharing with you since your brief absence, but it’s also his First Date with you. He must be special, he thinks, or at least insanely lucky, because when you egg him on to keep talking, laugh at his dumb jokes, and look at him so adoringly despite him being so plain and average and probably not as cool as other people, he’s genuinely the happiest man alive.

You’re so perfect, and he wants to ask to kiss you, but in a natural, not-creepy way.

“Can I kiss you?” he tries when he reaches the door of your apartment, not wanting to leave so soon but also careful not to make you uncomfortable.

“Yes.” Of course.

“Ok,” he says rather dumbly and leans in, hand awkwardly resting itself on your cheek. He stops just millimeters away, so close that you can feel his hot breath. “Really?”

“Trey, please,” you whine, dignity thrown out the window.

His first kiss with you is gentle, soft, and barely there, because he wants to be careful, and he wants you to be sure. It’s quick, and before your eyes can flutter shut, you already seeing him pulling away. Not on your watch.

You grasp him by his shirt collar with desire that’s been building up for the past year, lips crashing together again. It’s rougher than the first for sure, but something just clicks in Trey. He holds you closer, practically pulling you flush against his body, as he bites and tugs at lower lips, eating up the divine sounds you make. Everything about you is insanely addicting, and Trey is burning. Your lips are so soft on his, and he thinks it’s comparable to when yeast has time to ferment in bread dough. He doesn’t say this to you.

When the two of you pull apart, both of you are breathless with slightly swollen lips. You stare at him for a while saying nothing. Not being an experienced kisser, he gets nervous.

“Did I hurt you?” he asks, frowning. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“

“No, you idiot,” you laugh. That’s a good sign. “I’m wondering what excuse I can use to get you inside.”

Also a fantastic sign.

“I can wait,” he jokes. “I’ll even take notes for future reference.”

“Want to come inside for a drink?” you ask, looking sheepishly to the side and pointing pathetically at your door.

“And I thought I was bad at flirting,” he laughs and is met with a smack to the chest.

“Okay then,” you reply, tone dry. “Want to come in and look at my floorboards?”

“Not really?”

“My TV remote?”

“Pass.”

“My kitchen?” and you can’t believe this is what does it when he grabs you again and asks if he can give you another kiss. Of course, you nod.

“You know I get freaky about kitchenware,” he says against your lips, and you feel the smile that grows.

“I bought a new cast iron pan a week ago.” He kisses you again, hard and rough. “I know I’m supposed to season it, but I don’t know how.” Another kiss, his hand sliding to the back of your head to press him closer into you. “I need your help taking care of my cast iron pan, Trey.” There’s some tongue this time.

“You don’t ever need an excuse to get me to see you,” he says, finally pulling away and admiring the mess he’s turned you into, “but those were some pretty hot things you just said. Lead the way.”)

[miekasa]

Mie, I’m begging for some Jean college au bf hcs - im literally so down bad for this man and the way you write men is just 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻

Absolutely, not a problem 😌 I saved this ask as a draft a while ago when you sent it, sorry for just now getting to it. Anyway, I love Jean with my whole heart, best boy, best boyfriend <33

King of forehead kisses, and not even just because of his height in comparison to yours; he just likes it. He likes the feeling of pressing his lips against your skin, and making you feel safe.

Brings you tea or coffee however you like it every day without fail. If he can get it to you in the morning before work/school then he’ll do that, if not he’ll meet you some time in the middle of the day to drop it off. Your own personal courier just for drinks.

He… has a thing for long(er) nails. He loves the feeling of them against his skin, even if you’re not scratching to apply pressure—just you holding his hand them grazing his skin is enough for him.

That being said, he will pay for you to get your nails done. Actually, he’ll pay for… almost anything you want, but the nails benefit him as much as they do you so feel free to ball out.

He never blowdries his hair because he doesn’t... know how to do the back of it. You did it for him once and he hasn’t stopped thinking about it since, but he’s also too embarrassed to ask you to do/style it again.

On the subject of hair, he does do his best to style it and take care of it, but he’s a sucker whenever you play with it. Sometimes he feigns like you’re messing up all his hard work, but he’ll literally crane his head into your touch. He loves it. 

The first time he lays on top of you and you run your hands through his hair... top 10 most euphoric moments of his life. He tries to fight off the sleep threatening to take over him, but it’s futile. Give it 15 minutes at most before he’s knocked out like a baby. 

Dogs love him. Anytime you’re in a park or just taking a walk and there’s a dog around, it’ll come up to him and he looks adorable leaning down to pet it. He loves dogs, too! So he’s always happy to stop and pet them. He’d be a 10/10 dog dad. 

Has your name saved in his phone with two hearts at the end. Do not point it out.

Loves taking pictures together and if you guys are on a date, he’ll ask someone to get a picture for him. He just likes having them to look back on (and to send to his mom, later).

He doesn’t mind painting classes or videos or tutorials, but he hates paint by numbers kits. He claims that they have no sense of color theory and that it takes the originality and fun out of painting. Not to mention the quality of the paints isn’t great to begin with; all of which he takes very seriously.

It’s pretty cute actually, to see him get worked up over the paint kits. He claims that painting and drawing isn’t even something he takes “that seriously,” it’s just a hobby for him (one he’s insanely good at); but in moments like these, you can tell that he’s way more into art and art theory and history than he lets on. 

Huge movie guy, from animated movies to martial arts movies, Jean is usually willingly to give anything a watch at least once. When he’s high, he can go on about his favorite directors and art styles and movie details for hours if you don’t stop him. It’s super cute. Just don’t bring up Moana, because he’ll start crying. 

Arm around the shoulder kind of boyfriend for sure. It’s a casual way of keeping you near him and letting everyone know that you guys are together. Plus it allows for him to easily pull you into him for a quick forehead kiss when needed.

Listen. If you hug his arm, he’s on cloud nine. He tries to be nonchalant about it but he’s about three seconds away from his eyes rolling back in his head it feels that good to him. Bonus if you lean your head on his bicep a little—then he’s a goner.

He takes his bagels very seriously and believes that both you and him deserve nothing but the best quality bagels. He’ll grumble if a bakery gives you guys a less than favorable one and make a note that taking the long route to get to his favorite place is much more worth it.

Always makes you walk on the side furthest from the cars. If he notices you’re not, he’ll just shuffle behind you until he’s shouldering the street and you’re on the inside. 

He grew up on a kind of modern ranch situation; not exactly all the way in the countryside, but not isolate from the city, either. Because of this, he knows how to ride horses, take care of smaller farm animals, tend to plants, and yes he knows how to use a lasso. You wouldn’t know any of that though, because he never ever talks about it. The only way you find out is when he takes you to visit his mom’s house for the first time, and she asks him for a hand around the place. 

(He’s got a cowboy hat, too, but refuses to put it on. He got it when he was, like, nine, okay, leave him alone). 

When he thinks you look tired, he’ll wrap his arms around your shoulders to hug you. It’s usually followed up with a kiss to your head, and a promise that you guys will go home soon and get food on the way. 

He’s a really good cook. He just understands and flavors and pairings really well, so he doesn’t need a recipe to make something that tastes good; he just kind of knows what to add to get the balance he’s looking for. 

Naturally, he’ll cook for you. Especially if he finds out that you haven’t eaten all day/in a long time. He doesn’t care if it’s 11pm and it might seem excessive to make steak and potatoes with a side salad at this hour, he’s gonna do it to make sure you eat, and you are going to sit there and watch. 

He also bakes pretty well, though he isn’t as experimental with his baking as he is with his cooking. He usually sticks to what he knows, and it’s not cupcakes and brownies and cakes; he’s better at croissants, and cheesecakes, and canelés. 

Dating Jean means getting along with his friends. If you guys didn’t know each other before you started dating, be prepared to be ambushed by Connie and Sasha (after Jean stops hiding you away and gives them the green light lmfao). Neither of them waste time with the small talk and formalities; straight into mini golfing and beer pong. They make you feel welcome right away.

Sasha always teases that you’re too good for Jean, and that she might just steal you away for herself some day. Sasha is also Jean’s main confidant, so she really knows just how much he loves you, and yeah, she teases him for being lovesick, but really she’s happy for Jean. And proud of him for facing his feelings like this. 

Connie adores you, and you know he trusts you when he starts going to you for advice/help. Could be anything from schoolwork, to what color he should get his new shoes in. He’s also the one who, surprisingly, you have the sentimental talks with about your relationship with Jean. It’s easy to overlook, but Connie loves Jean, and he’s come to love you too; he just wants you both to be happy, so he’s there to listen when you need it. 

Jean waits outside of your classroom after you’ve had a test or presentation, usually with a drink or a snack, or the promise of taking you out as a treat. Always tells you he’s proud of you, and is there to comfort you if you think you didn’t do too well. 

He does not shut up about whatever major you’re in. It could be the same as his; it could be the complete opposite as his. He thinks it’s so sick that you’re doing it, you make it look cooler, you make it look better, and he’s certain you’re the smartest person in your program. 

He’s pretty serious about his studies, too, so he’s always down to study with you in the library whenever you’re both free. More often than not, he shows up after you, usually with food or extra chargers. He greets you with a kiss on the forehead, and asks you how you are while massaging your shoulders gently. If it’s been a while since you took a break, that’s the first item on the list, after that, he gets to work and stays with you until you’re ready to go, even if he doesn’t have as much work to do. 

He always sits across from you. This goes for when you’re in the library, or out to eat at a restaurant; Jean loves sitting across from you. He gets to see your face the best that way, and he adores looking into your eyes when you talk. 

He’s not... not a morning person. He’s not up at 6am ready to grind, but he wakes up before noon; let’s say 10am is his happy medium. That being said, if you wake up before him, regardless of the time, there’s a 9/10 chance he’ll lay on your back and tell you to hush so you guys can sleep for 10 more minutes. 

If you’re (close) friends with Eren, Mikasa, and Armin, Jean is... happy you’ve got people to rely on, but, “Of all people on the planet, you put your trust in Jaeger?” He acts so bitter (because he is), but deep down inside, he’s glad you have Eren to rely on if you need to. 

(Also, you have to humble him and remind him that he and Eren aren’t all that different. If you like him, why wouldn’t you get along with Eren, bye). 

Turns out though, that it’s not Eren who threatens to beat him up if he breaks your heart. It’s not even Mikasa, although, her threat goes without saying; it’s Armin he’s terrified of.

The last time Armin hated someone, it was this guy in your program, who happened to share a few mutual classes with him, too. Jean never knew the full story, just that he’s pretty sure that kid dropped out the following semester. 

If you have a job on campus, Jean usually doesn’t show up while you’re working (knowing how embarrassed he would be if you did that to him), unless you work the night shift and it’s dead. Connie, however, does show up; usually in some kind of crisis (“Please help me, I don’t know what the fuck APA formatting is and this is due tonight, please, please, please!!”). Your coworkers actually thought Connie was your boyfriend for a minute. That’s when Jean starts showing up more lmfao.

He makes it a point to go on a scheduled, night out, kind of date at least twice a month. He knows life gets busy with school and work and midterms, but he always makes sure you both set side a time to take a well-deserved break and be with each other. 

He’s the romantic type, so these dates are pretty swoon worthy, too. Drive-in movies, nice dinners, classy art exhibits, Jean plans it all. On that note, he really likes planning dates; he just doesn’t like talking about them with his friends beforehand. 

All in all, very romantic, very precious boyfriend. He’s always thinking about you, what you need, and how he can help you out. You’re one of his main priorities, and he just wants to treat you right. 

[kindredcandy]

(ACOTAR) prompt list

Aka a mix and match buffet of chaos to request/write! any ideas or suggestions are welcomed, I'm sure I missed some things !

Scenarios

Mortal Human!reader x Immortal Fae lover

Reader with piercings

Huddling to stay warm and conserve body heat (bonus points if they're not a couple yet)

Human reader doesn't realize they're mates with Fae character

Kissing by the fire

Overprotective/jealous drunk (but in a hot way)

Or the opposite of above, one enjoys when two flirts with other characters

Patching up wounds

Witnessing one get hurt (in a fight, in war, in torture, as punishment, etc)

Washing one's hair/helping them bathe after a long day

Nightmare trope !! (Maybe they're not together but one heard the others whimpers from their room)

Getting angry at them for being wreckless/sacrificing themselves but also concern and love

Secret relationship but unintentionally

That, but twisted. one pines for two, not realizing they're in a relationship with someone else already

Passing out

Kissing after one comes in from the cold. The contrast of two's warm hands and lips.

Playing with hair!!!

Excessive pda

Sleepy mornings

Reunions after they've been apart

Getting caught crying

Baking together

Comforting one after something

Feeling inadequate/insecure

Their love language explored

Waiting for them to wake up after something (surgery etc)

Teasing

Rough housing/wrestling

Sacrificing oneself for the other

First kiss

Demanding a kiss

Sitting on their lap/laying on top of them

Kissing in the dark

Pretending to be together/fake couple

Massages

Mutual pining / tension

Enemies to (friends to) lovers

Miscommunication

One bed

Kidnapped together

We're enemies but I'm going to protect you

Party

Unrequited love

Don't touch them

Anything hurt/comfort

The moment the mating bond snapped in place

The moment the bond was accepted

Body swap

Pwp

Love triangle

Established relationship

Unexpected kiss

Excessive flirting but neither one thinks the other is being fr

One becomes a villain

Cheating

Kissing things other than their lips

I hate everyone except you

Dialogue

"you think I'm a bitch? That's flattering"

"did you just indirectly call me hot?"

"I would pay ____ to spit in my mouth" "I'll do it for free"

"you look worse than I remember."

"I'm not gonna lie, I enjoy watching you beat people up."

"blood looks good on you"

"I kinda want them all to myself"

"that's not supposed to do that."

"you know I'm you're favorite" *silence* "see you can't deny it"

"I wish you were real"

"you don't want me."

"you deserve so much better"

"I could do so much better"

"life without you isn't something I want to see"

"sometimes I want to break all your bones and sometimes I want to kiss you"

"why do you look purple"

"that won't fit" "anything's possible"

"I didn't think you even liked me"

"you're the only thing I think about."

"shut up. I hate you"

"if I was prettier would you like me?"

"you're particularly hot when you're angry"

"oh my god you're jealous aren't you"

"they're not you"

"fuck marry kill? You. All of it."

"do my wings scare you?"

"you're a tiny weak human"

"you're 500 years old. Tell me you did not just do that"

Anything followed by "you're [hundreds of years] old"

"I liked you more before you did that"

"touch me"

"why do you trust me so much?"

"I'd kill for you" "technically you just did"

"you're my favorite person"

"I just need to be near you right now. Please."

"do you like it when I'm on top of you like this?"

"well that went worse than expected"

"they tried to hit me in the balls" "it's their love language"

"you smell so good"

"I almost forgot what it feels like to be near you"

"I can't just tell ____ that I'm in love with them" "you just did"

NSFW

18+ warning this is literally a list of kinks

Kinks

Delayed/denied orgasm

Threesome

Voyeurism

Scars

(consensual) spying

Masturbation

Sex pollen

Body worship

Spit (underrated tbh)

Forced to be quiet

Spanking

Slapping (face or otherwise)

Choking

Gentle sex

Size kink

Hand kink

WINGS

biting

Scratching

Licking

Gagging

Alternative fucking (using unusual body parts, knees, feet, tits)

FWB

Caught in the act

Roleplay (specify)

Bath sex

Using only their voice

Using only the bond

Bondage

Sensory deprivation

Daddy/mommy

Slave/pet

Untouched

Mirror

Pain

Performance sex

Trapped/stuck/tight spaces

Toys

Lingerie

Hand jobs

Humping

Riding anything

Grinding

Begging

Scent kink

Watersports / piss kink

Humiliation / degradation

Praise kink

Pet names

Dirty talk

Innocence / virginity

Ddlg / alpha / dom

Cockwarming

Cuckhold

Overstimulation

Begging

Food play

Forbidden

Anonymous sex

High sex

Face sitting

Temperature play

Use of magic

Desperation

Orgy

Bang or die

[melancholymetropolis]

No Idea

Pairings: Athlete!Kirishima x PlusSize!Reader

Summary: College AU The reader is Kirishima's History tutor and they kinda have a crush on each other. It takes an afterparty filled with horny guys and a skin-tight dress for Kiri to realize he wants them all to himself.

Warning: Do I even need to say it at this point? It's smut, obvi. Kinda unedited. The reader and her best friend are black. Kirishima is a football player; he's VERY possessive over the reader. Her best friend is a little gay for her as well.

Author's Note: This was a commission!!!!! The client gave me this insane prompt and I had no choice but to go over the word limit. If you want to commission me, click here! Your support really means the world to me. Enjoy!

Word Count: 5,300

“You’re back early!” My roommate, Liza, yelled from the other side of the apartment-style dorm room. The sound of her chair scraping the floor followed shortly after, along with the light footsteps of her sock-clad feet. “I left you a plate in the microwave, in case you were hungry. I could heat it up, if you’re too tired— why the long face? What happened?”

“He didn’t show up,” I sighed as I dropped my books on the table and sank into a chair.

“How can he not show up?” Liza fumed crossing her arms. “His GPA is already in the gutter from all the other quizzes he seemed to fail before the semester even started.”

“I know,” I replied in a bored tone.

“He’s on academic probation—”

“I know.”

“One more hiccup and he’ll be off the football team—”

“I know.”

“Not to mention how you practically have to bend backward to make time for him—”

“Mhm.”

“Just for him to flake on you for the third time! I just—”

“Liza, please,” I rose from my seat and stood in front of her. “You don’t have to be angry with me. It’s truly okay.”

“No! It’s not okay!” She stormed to the microwave and pulled the cover plate from the inside. She removed the foil and pushed it back into the device, before pressing the start button four times. She turns to face me and forces an angered sigh from her lips. “He likes you, you know that right?”

I lifted my books from the table and walked to our shared room. I took in the words that she threw at me with each step and digested them. Kirishima liked me. It wasn’t as though I didn’t have an inkling that he may be, sorta found me attractive. Although I wore glasses, I wasn’t blind. At least with them on. I saw the way he looked at me when we were less than a foot apart. Shoulders practically touching as we slouched over the Advanced American History textbook. Our hands brushing against each other’s ever so often. The sparkle in his eye when he looked at me longer than a few seconds; the blush on his cheeks when I smiled at his corny jokes. His persistent tendency to walk me home, although most times, we finished our study sessions just before dusk. The way he stayed glued to my side during the journey to my dorm. How he’d carry my books on the way. I noticed it all and practically welcomed it, since I too found him attractive. The spiky redhead just had a way of making everyone swoon over him. Kirishima was genuinely a nice person, not because there was something in it for him, but just because.

The beeping from the microwave brought me back to reality. I placed the textbooks on the designated space on the shelf and fixed my scattered stationery from that morning. Liza shuffled in with a bowl of baked fetta pasta, and a piece of toasted garlic bread a few minutes later. She placed the bowl on the desk, with a fork, a can of sparkling soda, and my favorite metal straw.

“What did I do to deserve you?” I said with a tired smile.

“Helped me pass ‘Text and Ideas’ with an A-,” Liza smiled back and placed a hand on my shoulder.

“Oh right,” I took a seat at the desk and forked the starchy dish in my mouth. “This is heaven-sent.”

“I knew you’d like it!” She deemed walking to her own desk. “I got the recipe from tiktok.”

I hum in response and continued to stuff my face. After a few minutes of silence, I grab the phone from my back pocket and unlocked it. A new message from Kirishima was the newest notification from many and it said:

Hey, I am sorry for not showing up. My teammate got shitfaced and decided to take a dive into the fountain. It took three of us to pull him out. It sucks because I was really looking forward to seeing you.

Since my mouth had already filled to its brink with pasta, I opted for a tight-lipped smirk instead of a toothy one. Kirishima all but admitted that he missed me. My hunch was right: the feelings are mutual. I swallowed the pasta and swiveled around in my chair to look at Liza. Her eyes were glued to her phone, but she snapped her head up to laugh at the content on her screen. Once she was down laughing, I picked my phone up and pointed it in her general direction. Reaching forward, she grasped the device and quickly read the message.

“Don’t respond to him,” she said, handing the phone back to me.

“Why? I thought you were shipping us together?” I asked whilst forking more pasta in my mouth.

“That’s why I’m telling you what I am telling you!” Liza rose to her feet and in a split second, she stood in front of me with a sickening smile.

“I am afraid to ask,” I said with a sigh.

“You don’t have to; I’m gonna tell you anyway,” she squats between my legs and widens her smile. “That boy is already wrapped around your finger, all you need to do is pull away. Just a tiny bit and he’ll come running.”

“Liza. . .”

“Hear me out!” She rose to her feet again and walked to the closet. “Remember when I went thrift shopping last week and I picked up that cute bodycon dress?”

“Yeah. . . ?”

“Well, I washed it and realized that it didn’t have the BODY to fill it out properly.” She pulls the dress from the closet and turns back to me. “And since the Homecoming Afterparty is at the Quarterback's house tomorrow night, I thought it would be the perfect time for you to wear it.”

I eye the dress, taking in its extremely short length and strappy detailing on the front. One wrong move and my breasts would spill right out of it. But, one right move would have them fall onto Kiri’s lap. I tried my best to list the pros and cons of the situation. Pondering what I could get out of the ordeal going to the lion’s den dressed as a gazelle. Yet, all I could imagine was me twerking on someone’s son and taking him home afterward.

💘🖤💘🖤

The dress fit like a glove: perfectly tight, almost like a second skin, but very breathable. I paired it with some hoop earrings, a few bangles on each wrist, and 3-inch kitten heels. My goal was to dress to impress, not nurse my aching arches by the end of the night. The entire ride over to the nicer part of town was nerve-wracking, for one, the Uber driver wouldn’t stop staring at my cleavage from the driver’s mirror. And, secondly, Liza practically had phone sex with her boyfriend, who was going to meet us at the party. I stared down at my phone the whole time, rereading Kiri’s message and the ones he sent afterward. It was true, he was wrapped around my finger. He didn’t double text; Kirishima sent five messages in a row.

Hey, are you free tomorrow? I wanted to talk about yesterday.

I’ll buy you that weird thing you like from Starbucks.

The drink you said that tastes like the moon.`

And I’ll get you those cake pop things.

My heart couldn’t help but flutter; I didn’t know he was paying that much attention to me. I only mentioned that Starbucks drink once in his presence, quite a while ago. It had to be a little over a month ago, yet he still remembered.

The car stopped and Liza popped right out. Her 34 inch Brazilian, straight swaying behind her as she closes the door. Still chatting with her boyfriend, she motions me out of the car with an eager smile. Reluctantly, I detach myself from the cool leather and tug on my dress as I closed the door behind me. I looked up toward the mansion before me, white paint and overwhelming size almost frightened me. But, when I saw a familiar, spiky-haired, redhead, all my potential fear left my body and warmth replaced it.

Kirishima’s back was to me; he was having an intense conversation with his best friend, Bakugo, one of the team’s Linebackers. The blond was so close to popping a fuse but Kiri was struggling to keep from laughing directly in his face. I approach the porch, slow and sensual, my eyes glued to him the entire walk over. Kirishima briefly turns around to address a comer of the group, Sero, an offensive player, when his eyes come up the steps. The humorous expression on his face drops and is replaced with awe. The other two boys look in the direction of his eyesight and replicate his reaction.

“Hi—” I lifted my hand to wave, but it never made it past my abdomen. Liza appeared right in front of me and captured my wrist.

“Girl, it’s our song! Hurry up!” She said as she proceeded to drag me into the house.

“Bye—! Wait, damn!”

Liza pulled me to the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the living room of the home. She starts to bop side to side, swaying her hips in place. It takes me a few seconds to register that “34+35” was blasting the speakers. Liza twirls around me in a fit of giggles and continues to bop along to the music.

“I thought you liked “positions” better than this track?” I questioned as I matched her rhythm.

“I do! I just had to get you out of there,” Liza answered as she swayed her head back and forth. Which made her hair move in an angelic wave behind her bandeau top and pencil skirt. “Those three guys looked like they wanted to run a train on you.”

“ELIZABETH!!!!” I screamed with a shocked smile.

“What?! I’m not lying!” She gives me a bashful smirk. “You look so good, mamas! Shit, you're making me rethink my relationship with Shinso.”

“Oh my god!” I laughed. “I can’t take your ass anywhere, for real!”

The song began to fade out and bleed into “Pussy Talk” with the infamous City Girls. Liza’s soft bops began to move into full booty bouncing. Soon her hands are on her knees and she’s throwing her ass back on my lap. I press my hand flat on her back and lift my other hand in the air. She whines her waist and looks back at me as her inner hot girl is threatening to make an appearance. Shortly after the first verse, Liza straightens her back and dances around me as I bop to the side, bouncing my ass to the music. A smile comes to my lips as my favorite part plays on full blast.

“Pussy talented, it do cartwheels,” Liza and I screamed in unison. “And he pay ‘cause he like how that part feel.”

“Pussy give speeches, heartfelt,” I continued, popping my back against my friend.

“Yuh,” Liza ad-libbed.

“Said the pussy really talk like it Garfield,” I rapped as I felt Liza’s hands glide up my sides.

“It do!”

We danced around each other for the rest of the song and pulled away from the floor, desperately needing to hydrate. We practically stumbled toward the makeshift bar across the living room. We reached into the cooler and pulled out two bottles of water. We chugged the water and tossed the empty bottles in the trash.

“Only water, ladies?” Mineta asked as we turned back towards the dance floor. “You don’t want something a little. . . stronger?”

“Get lost, grape juice,” a familiar voice suddenly came out of nowhere.

Just a few feet behind the purple blob stood Kirishima and Shinso. If looks could kill, Mineta’s body parts would be staining the marble floors and messing up my fresh pedicure. The poor excuse for a human scurried away as both football players approached us. Shinso instantly wrapped his arms around Liza and planted a kiss on her forehead.

“Having fun, baby girl?” His low voice sounded sensual against the harsh music.

A seductive smile falls on Liza’s face. “I would’ve had even more fun if you actually danced with me for once.”

“You know I don’t like—”

“Too bad!” She pulled Shinso to the dance floor.

Leaving me alone with Kirishima. I turned to look at him and offered him an awkward smile. “How was your diving lesson?”

The redhead returned my smile and scratched the back of his neck. “So you did read me my texts? I was starting to think you were mad at me or something.”

“Not at you, per se,” I replied thinking of my words carefully.

“Then who were you mad at?” Kirishima closes the distance between us and puts a finger under my chin. He redirects my attention to his face and gives me a smirk.

He looked good and he knew it. He wore a simple white t-shirt and black ripped jeans. But, he paired it with a burgundy leather jacket and a Cuban link silver chain. He had a gold wristwatch on his left wrist and a simple chain on his right. And his cologne. . . it danced in my nostrils. It wasn’t too heavy or suffocating; you simply had to be close to him to smell it.

Kirishima was playing a dangerous game and he knew it.

“At the people that take you away from me,” I looked at him with doughy eyes and slightly parted lips. A look of innocence was written all over my face.

Kirishima clenched his jaw and briefly looked away. A blush starting to form on his cheeks. “Well, I—. Shit.” He remained silent for a few seconds, gathering his words, before saying “You don’t know what you do to me, Y/N.”

“And what’s that?” I asked while removing his hand from my chin and bringing it to my lips. I gently kiss his bruised knuckles, never breaking eye contact while doing so.

The redhead opens his mouth to speak but is rudely interrupted by a yelling Liza.

“GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE, BITCH!!!! THEY’RE PLAYING OUR SONG!!!!”

While I was talking to Kirishima, the music seemed to slip away. I had no idea what was playing until I refocused my attention on the blaring speakers. “Come on, Kiri. Duty calls.” I drag him to the dance floor.

Liza unlatches herself from Shinso and twirls around me. “I’m not shy, I’ll say it. I’ve been picturing you naked.”

“I’m a little faded, you look like a fucking painting,” I continue the verse as I glide my hands along my body. “Big doe eyes, amazin’. She’s everything I’ve been prayin’.”

Liza walked up to Kirishima and glided her hand along his chest. “Me and your girlfriend playin’ dress-up house.” She pressed two fingers against her lips and poked her tongue out. “I gave your girlfriend cunnilingus on my couch.”

Kirishima blushes a bright red, nearly matching his hair. It takes everything in me not to laugh.

I look back at Shinso and he’s just shaking his head with a smile on his face.

“Go get your girlfriend, before she devours your teammate,” I said giggly quietly.

“Go get your best friend before she kills your loverboy,” Shinso counters looking down at me with a smirk.

“He looks like he's gonna pass out,” I replied, struggling to contain my laughter.

“If you think that’s bad, you should’ve seen him when you were twerking on Liza,” Shinso jested while leaning closer to me. “Eijiro looked like he came in his pants.”

I smacked his arm and leaned against his chest. “You’re lying!” Laughter overcame my body; tears were gathering in the corners of my eyes.

“I swear to god,” Shinso struggled to say while laughing. “Then, when Bakugo called you hot. . . Eiji almost went feral.”

“Stop. . . I can’t breathe. . .”

“You better fuck him like the world is ending. . . I can’t keep stopping him from. . . fighting the entire team over you.”

“You and Liza. . . perfect for each other. . . I cannot. . .”

The song swiftly faded out into another. Yet another one of Liza’s favorites: Buss it by Erika Banks.

The young woman peeled herself from Kirishima and began walking to her boyfriend. I distanced myself from Shinso and walked over to Kirishima. I wrapped my arms around his neck and looked into his eyes. “Are you okay, Kiri?” A smile painted my lips.

His eyes darkened and he gripped my waist firmly. “I want you. . . so bad right now.”

“How about we get outta here?” I suggested with a raised eyebrow.

“Go say goodbye to your friends, I’ll bring the car around,” Kirishima asserted with a smirk. He pressed a kiss to my forehead before detaching himself from me and walking out of the living room.

I turned back to Shinso and Liza, who were seconds away from eating each other’s face off. I tapped the loving couple and cleared my throat. They both pulled away and stared at me.

"We're leaving," I said simply.

"About fucking time," Liza replied with a smirk. "You better come back to the dorm in a goddamn wheelchair, if not, I'm sending you back to his place."

"You have like zero chill," I shook my head and waved goodbye.

"Don't forget to use protection!" Liza yelled after me.

A chuckle fell from my lips as I walked out of the front door. I found Kirishima exactly where he said he'd be: parked in front of the massive house, within a bright red mustang. He exited the car and walked around to the passenger side of the vehicle. He opened my door and helped me get in. Kirishima made sure I was buckled in and comfortable before entering the car on the driver's side.

He starts the vehicle, and places his right hand on my thigh. He gives the plush fresh a securing squeeze before pulling away from the curb.

The drive was short and sweet, averaging around ten minutes. We parked across the street from the boys’ dorm hall and exited the car. Kirishima opened my door and helped me out of the vehicle.

"If you don't want this, I could always take you home," he said as he shut my door. "I don't want to pressure you into anything."

"I want this more than you know," I responded while gripping his hand. "But, if I ever feel uncomfortable, I'll let you know."

Kirishima nods and smiles. "Good girl. Now let's go."

The moment his dorm's door closed, his body was pressed against mine and his hand glued to my waist. His lips massaged against my own, slow and sensually. I moaned against the kiss, and pressed my body closer to his. He felt so good attached to me, almost like he was meant to be against me. His searing hot kisses inched down my jawline and to my neck. Kirishima's hands slid up my abdomen and to my shoulders, he slipped the straps from the curved surface and pulled away just enough just to allow me to remove them from my arms.

He kissed the other side of my neck, leaving little bites here and there. The redhead ran his tongue against my collarbones and I swear a flood rushed to my nether regions. Kirishima kissed down and left my breast, gathering the anticipation that swirled through my body before latching his lips on my nipple. A throat my moan fell from my mouth and my legs jolted slightly. My mind continued to fog as he nestled against the sensitive bud, while happily moaning against the soft flesh. I pressed one hand against the front door and another in his hair.

Pants left my lips as I began to squirm underneath his body. "Take me to the bed, please," I begged while looking down at him. " I want you so bad, Kiri."

The redhead detached himself from my breast and gripped my chin. "Say my name, baby." His red eyes stared deeply into my brown ones, taking in every little detail of my expression.

"Eijiro," I said breathlessly.

"Say it again," he broke eye contact and gripped my waist.

"Eijiro."

His hands slipped down the curve of my rear and to my legs. He lifted limbs from off the ground and wrapped them around his waist. I wrapped my arms around his leg immediately afterward and giggled.

He walked further into the dorm room and passed through another dorm. He sits me on the extra-long twin bed and falls to his knees between my legs. Kiri unlatches my strappy heel and tosses it to the other side of the room. While he does the other foot, a smirk presses against his lips.

"What?" I asked while looking down at him.

"I'm just thinking about how this started," he said while smiling. "How my shifty grades gave me the best thing that ever happened to me."

"Stop it," I counter with a blush on my face. "You're exaggerating."

"Baby, I mean it with every fiber of my being when I say this," he leaned forward. "I've wanted to be with you for a while now, I just didn't know if you'd like me back. And I was kinda ashamed of taking so long to say something because you're so sweet and you really helped me a lot with Advanced American History. I didn’t want you to think I was using you for information or anything."

I leaned forward and pressed my lips on his forehead. "I liked you even before I officially knew you. When you beat the shit out of that guy that tried to home a drunk girl."

"I don't even remember that."

"It was during a Halloween party last year, that was when I first saw you. And I thought, "wow I wish more men like him existed in this world"."

"I can't believe you remember that."

"How could I not? You basically saved that girl's life and dignity. You were the only human being in a room full of predators. That's when I knew I wanted you for myself."

Kirishima laughs. "Greedy, little Y/N."

I shrugged.

"Come here."

I gathered the football player into my arms and pressed my lips onto his. Taking in every ounce of his kiss. Sucking on his bottom lip. Slipping my tongue within his mouth. Tugging against his collar to close the distance between us. After a few seconds, Kirishima kissed down my body again until he was face to face with my heated center. He scrunched the dress around my waist and pulled my panties off my legs before spreading my legs wide open.

"Oh… look how wet you are, baby," he kissed the soft skin in between my thighs. "All for me."

Kirishima dipped his head between my legs and took a long swipe at the sticky mess between them. A shiver ran along my spine, Arching my back, I released a soft whimper and spread my legs further apart. He dipped his tongue into the smooth canal repeatedly, bobbing his head as he completed the action. His calloused hands slid up my legs once more and hooked around my thighs. Kiri moved his hot mouth from the very bottom of my womanhood to the top, leaving a long string of spit along the way. The redhead sucked on the protruding bud tenderly; with hollowed cheeks, he looked up from my heat and stared into my eyes. I bit my lip and moaned loudly.

“Fuck, you feel good,” I arched my back against his mouth and bucked my hips slowly.

Kirishima released my bud with a silent “pop” and began lapping the rosy, pink button in great haste. My legs jolted at the new source of stimulation and a throaty whine fell from my lips. Squeezing my eyes shut, I squirmed underneath his mouth, desperately wanting to add more friction. Kiri noticed my slutty movements and began to move his tongue even faster.

“Ah. . . just like that, don’t stop,” my fingers gathered my bosoms and gave them a firm squeeze. The walls of my slick cave began to clench and release themselves at a faster pace. Tingles rose up my body, swirling against my lower abdomen, almost numbing my lower half entirely. Then, a searing sensation ripped through me, causing my hips to raise from the bed and my knees to shake. A low scream left my mouth as I felt the throbbing of my bud increase tremendously.

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” My hips fell on the bed again and my legs shook violently. Kirishima steadied them as much as he could before a whole another wave hit my body and my entire being went still.

“Ah! Eijiro!” I screamed as the pleasure shot through my body for the last time. Pants left my throat and short spurts, just as sweat dripped from my forehead. I looked down at Kirishima, who had just pulled away from my spasming cunny. He had a look of astonishment on his face, as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. He looked down at my wrecked body, taking in the shaking limbs, the thin layer of sweat upon it, and the scrunched-up dress at the waist.

“You sounded so hot screaming my name,” he finally said after a few seconds of silence. “No one has ever made it sound so good as you.”

“Well, grab a condom and I’ll scream your name for the rest of the night,” I replied with a smirk. “If you can last that long.”

“Oh, baby,” Kiri’s smile widened. “You have no idea.”

He walked over to his dresser and pulled out a box of condoms from the top drawer. He ripped one off the sleeve and walked back over to me. I pulled the scrunched-up dress over my head and tossed it to the side. I looked over at Kiri and he’d already stripped himself of his T-shirt. He was currently unbuckling his belt with the condom packet in his mouth. His massive bulge immediately caught my eye and I moaned in anticipation. Kirishima rips the packet open with his teeth and rolls latex down his throbbing shaft. My walls clench at the delicious sight and I could feel my nipple begin to stiffen

“If you’re still tired, we can wait a little—” Kirishima begins to say before I cut him off.

“Eijiro, stop being nice and fuck me like a slut.”

His lips were on mine within the next heartbeat. His hands roamed every crevice of my body, taking in the soft tissue and stretchmarks lovingly. His throbbing member slowly slid into me with little to no friction. He made sure to thumb my clitoris while inserting himself, just so he wouldn’t hurt me. And I swear, I was seconds away from asking him to marry me. He gently moved his hips backward, and then pushed forward again. Highlighting his first stroke. He looked at the crimson hue on my face and leaned down to kiss me.

“You are so pretty, princess,” Kiri groaned softly, as he moved his hips at a gentle pace. “So, so pretty.”

I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him again. Our tongues danced together as his member tenderly kissed my sensitive walls with each thrust. Kirishima moaned against my lips, as he took in every part of that union. He hiked up one of my legs and hooked it around his waist while he cradled the back of my neck with the other. He looked into my eyes as he increased the pressure of his strokes and their depth. My mouth hung open, and drool poured from the side of it as he kept up the sickening pace. My eyes began to roll back as throat moans rose from the depth of my body.

“Oh God. . .” I slurred as the pleasure increased within my body.

“Aww look at my pretty baby,” Kiri grunted as he rested his hand on my neck. He pressed his thumb between my lips.

I sucked on the digit and looked into his eyes. He moved his hips faster and my lips separated from around the finger. Pants fell from my lips as I felt his member sensually assault my cervix. After a few minutes, Kirishima suddenly pauses and hikes one of my legs up to his shoulders. He readjusts his body, leaving his hand on my neck and placing his hand on my clit. Kiri began to rock his hips in a powerful, but steady motion. He rubs the throbbing bud in a gentle motion, slowly gathering every ounce of pleasure within my body. The pace of my breathing increased rapidly, as the pool in my stomach began to inflate. Whimpers fell from my lips as I gripped the sheets underneath me.

“I’m so close. . .” I whispered through tight lips. “Please don’t stop. . .”

“You’re squeezing me so deliciously tight, baby,” Kirishima grunts as a droplet of sweat drops from his brow. “Milking my cock for everything it’s worth. What a greedy little cunny you have.”

“Eijiro. . . I wanna cum so bad,” I whimpered through pants. “Please let me cum, baby.”

Kirishima curses under his breath and releases his hand from my throbbing bud. He places both hands onto my neck, thumbs pressing against my jaw. He eases his body forward and keeps his sickening pace. “You’re gonna be the death of me, I swear.”

I sucked in a breath and wrapped my hands around his forearms. I furrow my brows and pant with my mouth open. “You make me feel so good, Eiji. So fucking good!”

“You’re mine, you hear me?” He drops his hands from my neck and presses his forehead to mine. “You don’t get to fuck anyone else. . . . .You don’t get to be with anyone else. . . .My name will be the only name you moan for the rest of your life, do you understand?”

I nod. “I understand.”

“You’re mine and no one else's.”

He pulls me into a searing hot kiss. Drinking in all the love and energy throughout my body. I hook my arms around his neck and moan against his lips. Suddenly, I felt an intense rush of adrenaline pass through my body and everything seemed to go silent. A low ringing noise sounded in my ear as my mouth fell open. I dug my arms into his back and clung to his body. Every fiber of my being tensed and my mind went completely blank for several seconds. Then, slowly, my body released itself and collapsed onto the bed. I opened my eyes lazily to see Kirishima’s eyes tightly closed and his hips slightly shaking. Once he finished his ride, his body relaxed and he lowered my leg from his shoulder. He pulled me into an embrace and pressed another kiss onto my lips.

I pulled away from the kiss and looked into his crimson eyes. “Were you serious about calling me yours?”

“Ugh. . . yes?” He replied hesitantly. Then, he added “If that’s okay with you! I don’t wanna force you—”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” I cut him off with a smirk.

“Oh, I was worried for a second.”

“The only thing you should be worried about is your Advanced American History grade.”

“Oh, right. . .”

“You miss another one of my sessions, I’ll ignore you again.”

“Please don’t! I will be present at every session.”

“Good. And you have to be Starbucks.”

“The drink that tastes like the moon?”

“Matcha latte with 2 pumps of chai. Yup.”

“And two chocolate cake pops.”

“Mhm. You know me so well.”

[just-some-random-blogger]

Death By Bagel

NCT Culinary Student!Mark Lee x Fashion Design Student!Reader Summary: Mark makes a cake cause he's realized he can't lose you to some f-boy. Word Count: 3k+ Warnings: Fluff, childhood au, college au, slowish burn, slight cursing, reallllly fluffy, some broksi-dude action, typos sksksksks, etc.

R E Q U E S T my friend: mark lee, slow burn, friends to lovers

A/N: I wrote a fic that already had like 1k+ word then I LOST IT (i think i deleted it) thus this. It took me 10 years to write this msmsmkskskks. PLEASE TUMBLR IS MESSING WITH ME AND MIXED UP THE ORDER OF SOME OF THE DIALOGUE

“As a doctor, I don’t think you should be doing that,” Mark says, not even bothering to look at his patient seated rudely on the floor. Oop, he’s lying down now.

Mark huffs and looks up from the clay block he was molding on his tray, “YOU’RE SO UNPROFESSIONAL!”

Mark’s mother nearly spits out her coffee upon hearing the words of his five-year-old son. Her husband snorts, “He got that from you.”

The woman throws a look at the man and was supposed to give a snarky retort, up until the sound of the doorbell ringing. She grins from ear-to-ear and dashes to get the door.

When she comes back to the living room, she’s accompanies by another woman and a tiny version of her.

“Markie! Say hello to your Auntie!” Mark’s mom calls.

Mark from the carpeted floor looks up and blinks, examining the stranger-woman and its human-ling. Mark turns to his father who was sat on the couch and receives a nod of approval almost. Mark purses his lips and waves at the woman.

The woman waves back and then crouches down to the little girl, “Baby, say hello to Mark.”

Unwilling, she shakes her head.

“Aw come on, baby. Don’t be shy. Mark over there is a really sweet boy. I knew him when he was in his mommy’s tummy, just like Mark’s mom knew you when you were in mine. You’re the same age so you’ll get along just fine.”

With the unnecessary explanation that gave no justification to the scene whatsoever out of the way, the girl was fooled into peeping up, “Hi, Mark.”

“Hello,” Mark says, not particularly interested, as his patient was still in the midst of dying in his office. He turned to his stuffed toy called Mr. Lion and attempted to stand him up once more.

At this point, the girl makes her way to Mark.

“We’ll be back in two hours, honey. Keep an eye on the children,” Mrs. Lee tells his husband who had been occupied with TV the entire time.

“Yeah. I got this,” he smiles to his wife then goes back to watching.

The bumble bee clad figure sat down to Mark in blue and watched him play.

Mark ignored her for a few seconds, needing to assert all efforts on standing that dumb toy up. Once successful, Mark turns to her, “Do you play doctors?”

Mark was then met with the same lack on enthusiasm. She hums, “I like playing baker doctor.”

All at once, Mark gasps, “ME TOO!”

It was unbeknownst to the children it was oddly specific and the chance of this happening was pretty slim.

And in a blink of an eye, excited giggles erupt in the room, as if they had been having so much fun before this scene. It was here and there the two would become best friends to the very end.

... so I guess it means the reckoning is upon us.

“MARK LEE I SWEAR TO THE FU--” “WHAT! WHAT!?” Mark laughs.

"YOU ATE MY BAGEL! AGAIN!" I growl in a loud whisper, throwing the wrapper at him and his flat head before he could think to dodge it while he annoyingly laughs.

"I asked if I could have it though!" he says, fully knowing his sins.

I glared at him and say lowly, "I thought you were referring to my notes, bread for brains."

Mark snorts loud enough for our teacher to wake up from his nap. Once the class notices, we all pretend to be doing something productive and Mark plays it off with a cough.

"Mr. Lee." Mr. Kim says sternly, clicking his tongue, blinking his eyes rapidly.

Mark finishes coughing and turns to our seated professor, "Yes sir."

"Don't go to school if you're sick and going to cause a racket with your coughing."

Mark nods firmly and Mr. Kim closes his eyes again, mumbling, "page 65 is due tomorrow."

The entire class grumbles. Mark beside me scoffs and makes a face, "Yeah, yeah, Doyoung."

I turn to him and elbow his side.

"Whatever," Mark shakes his head, "professor bunny-teeth won't hear me."

Once class ended, we both get our things and head out for lunch. We walk to our canteen, fussing over assignments, deciding we should do it together later in our mutually free period.

I groan and narow your eyes at him as we have an argument over how he hasn't finished the essay for English, "That's not the point."

"Yo Mark!" a voice calls from afar. Mark and I turn, looking for the voice, and I spot the dimpled senior, Jung Jaehyun, in a table with the rest of his squad.

I nudge Mark and point at the pale guy seated by the corner.

Mark throws him a smile and waves. I follow closely behind him as he walks over to the table. "We're going to sit with them?" I say in some sort of gasp.

"Yeah." Mark replies simply, not bothering to turn to me, "they're cool."

I knit my brows at that and nod, "Yeah I know. But I'm not cute today."

Mark stops in his tracks and throws me a confused look, "what?"

"I didn't put any make-up on today, also I'm pretty sure there's a visible stain somewhere on my jacket, I just don't remember where."

Mark scrunches his face up again, even more confused. "What? How do you... forget a stai-- that's not the point. Why do you wanna look cute today?" He scoffs and continues lowly, "hardly as if you ever look cute."

I let out an annoyed groan and punch Mark's shoulder. "Like when you panicked when Seulgi came over and asked for notes."

Mark openes his mouth, "That is so not the same! Jaehyun's a fuck bo-"

"Just shut up already," I snap and shove him forward so he'd continue walking. "Let's not keep him waiting," I add and mumble, "also I know. Dong Sicheng however is very cute."

Mark chuckles, "he's dated every girl on the dance team."

"Okay, maybe not that cute."

"Ya, Mark," Jaehyun grins and greets the said person with a high-five and chest bump. He turns to me and speaks my name with a smile. I smile back politely and wave.

I'm about to sit next to Sicheng, but Mark shoves me and so I end up sitting on the other side of the bench table with Jaehyun. I turn to Jaehyun with a small, non-awkward smile and shoot Mark a glare. He seems unbothered though.

"So, you up for a round later?" Jaehyun asks Mark.

Mark talks over me, "you know it, dude."

Jaehyun flashes his dimple smile all the stupid girls fall for. I'm only half falling for it cause I'm only half stupid. He raises his brows, "you bought the dough, right?"

This makes me knit my brows.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I really did this time," Mark mumbles quickly. "It's my turn anyway."

Jaehyun gives an off look, "that's literally what you said last time bro."

"Yo, no for real. It's in my bag, if you wanna check."

Jaehyun shakes his head when Mark begins to scramble for it, "no, Lee, it's good. We wouldn't want you friend to get dirty."

Is it just me or do you feel slimey all of a sudden?

Jaehyun then gives me a somewhat, somehow sincere smile, "so. I hear you're in fashion design."

I give a soft chuckle, "yeah. That's me."

"I could tell from a mile away. Mark looks horrible next to your getup."

I look down at my sweater and ripped jeans. Mark exclaims in protest, "shut the hell up, Jae."

I give a soft smile at Jaehyun, "don't know where that comes from but thanks I guess."

Jaehyun chuckles, "I'm kidding," he eyes Mark, "I saw your Fashion Design pin on your bag when you sat down."

"Oooohhhh, haha, okay, that makes sense."

"Ya, Jeff," Sicheng calls for Jaehyun, "it's almost time."

Jaehyun turns to his friend and nods. He turns back to me and Mark, "well, it's nice to meet you. Mark won't put a sock in it even if I beg. See you around, fashionista."

He stands and slaps Mark's back, "see ya later, broski."

"Yeah, bruh," Mark replies.

Once it's just Mark and I, I snap at him and blurt out in a whisper yell, "YOU'RE ON BROSKI LEVEL WITH JUNG JAEHYUN?!"

Mark gives me a weird face, "bruh, I think he calls the principal broski, for real."

I smack Mark, making him whine, "you know what I'm talking about, Mark! And what, are you doing drugs?!?"

He shakes his head in confusion, "Wait, what!? Who the hell told you that?"

"Uhhhhh you were talking about dough and showing up later. Sounds like you owe him money for drugs, Mark."

"??? In what universe did we even mention drugs?? Does this," he slaps his face, "look like a face of a drug addict to you?"

"A gullible idiot maybe."

Mark's jaw drops, "oh wow, okay. I'm done with this conversation." He proceeds to stand attempt to walk away. I scoff, "not on my watch bitch."

Like the true idiot that he is, Mark begins to legit run away from me, like a criminal who stole my cookies. It's embarrassing that he, a man much taller than I, could not even outrun me. I suppose I should be grateful, but this just fortifies my thoughts of him being an idiot even more.

But okay... I wasn't actually expecting this... like... Mark and Jaehyun... like... actually baking bread after school with dough Mark premade at home. Also, uh, Jaehyun looks super cute in an apron that I'm having a mental breakdown. And what's new, so does Mark.

"I can't believe you thought I was a drug dealer," Jaehyun says in a soft pout as he rolls out dough on the marble counter of his friggin large kitchen in his friggin large house. Like dang, I knew he was rich, but he's like Rich™ Rich. Rich with a golden diamond encrusted Rolex watch rich that's in a glass display rich-- wtf.

Mark wheezes in his telltale high pitched laugh as he opens a pack of unsweetened chocolate pellets, "she thought dough was some sort of metaphor or something."

"Cute," they say at the same time. Mark turns to Jaehyun in slight surprise and Jaehyun turns to me. I roll my eyes, though I feel my neck burn. I avert my attention to the scene I was sketching on my pad, Jaehyun and Mark baking croissants. I clear my throat, "I'm just making use of the single braincell between us, cause if he doesn't die falling down the stairs, he's gonna pull some idiotic stuff like baking with Jung Jaehyun."

Oddly, it's Mark that reacts to that with a, "hey!"

Jaehyun rubs his chin on his shoulder, "I also can't believe you think so little of me.'

I break a sweat but decide to answer honestly, "... ... ... You have a reputation."

"Of being a fuck boy?"

Mark loudly transfers the chocolates into a metal bowl, making the two of us snap at him. Mark makes a face, "oh gosh, sorry."

Jaehyun sighs, "well. I admit I get around, but that's only because I get dumped every time."

I raise a brow.

Jaehyun purses his lips, "nah, let's not make this weird. The croissants will be flat."

"Dude," Mark turns to him, "that's literally only because you messed up the recipe."

Jaehyun grits his teeth, "no. It's because Kun's a little teacher's pet and sabotaged me so he could get the best grade."

"No, but like Kun is really nice, he helped me with the fold techinique."

Jaehyun scoffs, "He stole me vanilla extract, Mark. Who does that?!"

"No, listen, he's cool, like, for real--"

"No, you listen, he's a little shit and--"

The two begin to bicker like a married couple, and I begin to draw inspiration form the scene to design some random sketches of wedding dresses.

I look back to the two and still can't get over the fact that I learned Jaehyun was a culinary arts major with my best friend, and that I was currently in the Jung's boojie home because I thought Mark was buying drugs from him. Not what I was expecting at all my day to go like, but I'm not mad this is how it went.

"No, no, no, no," Jaehyun says. He turns to me and points, "let's just get an outside opinion. Babe, what's your favorite color?"

"BABE?!" Mark barks.

I take a moment to reply. I blink slowly, "uhh... pink?"

Jaehyun bites his lower lip and claps his flour covered hands, "Right. Pink croissants it is."

Mark shoots him a glare and turns to me, back to Jaehyun, "she has a name."

Jaehyun nods, "yeah, and she wants pink croissants."

Mark makes a face and Jaehyun examines it, chuckling under his breath. "Wah, you two are something, huh."

No one really responds.

We began to always eat lunch with Jaehyun and his friends. It's funny cause I realized Jaehyun, although I still firmly believed he was out to get nasty with every other girl he sees, he was actually just like Mark. A total loser with a love for cooking.

"Hey," Mark says with a snippy tone.

I give him a look and suddenly receive a paper bag to my face. Mark sits on his chair next to me, as per usual. I smell the thing before I realize what it is. It's a freshly baked bagel. I perk up and smile, "Aw, you baked me a bagel?"

Mark raises his upper lip, "no. Jaehyun did."

I knit my brows, "what? Why?"

Mark narrows his brows, "do you, like, like him?"

I give him a look. I take a bite of the bagel, making Mark look at me in disbelief. I answer, "You do know I only hang with him cause you do, right?"

"Then why'd you eat the bagel then?"

"Uh, a number of reasons. 1) it's a bagel, 2) free food, 3) I'm starving, 4) it smells amazingggg."

Mark does a face, "fair. I've been meaning to ask how he does his seasoning for a while now too." He releases a breath, "and anyway, I'm pretty sure he made a bagel cause I told him you liked them. Never talking about you to him anymore though."

I look at him, "why do you talk about me so much to him anyway?"

"Uh because you're amazing," Mark says instinctively.

I feel my heart skip at that. I coo and place my hands on my chest, "wait that's really sweet."

Mark looks at me. His face begin to shift, "too bad it's a lie- haha."

I give him a look and rebut, "jerk."

"Loser."

As quickly as I found out about Jaehyun being Mark's friend, that's about as quickly as I found out he didn't like hanging out with him anymore. It's kind of a shame I never got to go back to his boojie house.

There was this one encounter I had with Jaehyun though... which was a little weird, not gonna lie.

He was waiting for me outside my Tailoring class, smiling and waving when he saw me. I Reluctantly reciprocated and walked over to him.

He releases a breath, "I've been waiting for about 20 minutes for you. I didn't know when your class would end."

I raise my brows, "you could have asked?"

"Well I would need your number for that, and that would have ruined the surprise," he pulled out a brown paper bag, reminiscing the same one Mark chucked at my face.

"I made you two this time," he smiles.

I take a moment to reply, "you don't have to make me bagels, Jaehyun."

He grabs my hand, "yeah, but I want something out of ya," he places the bagels in my hand. He proceeds to lead us off and we begin to walk down the hall.

Truth be told, it's a little scary that his ulterior motive is up in the air. Jaehyun places his hands in his pockets, "I like your dress, by the way."

I smile, "thanks. I made it."

He smiles and nods, "right. That makes sense as to why it suits you well."

I can't help but blush at that, and simultaneously feel conscious when I realize a bunch of girls in my course are looking at me and Jaehyun as we strut down the hall.

"So, what did you want, Jaehyun?"

"Well, I clearly wanted to ask you out."

"..."

"..."

Jaehyun smiles and give a soft laugh, "is it so ground breaking?"

"... Uh..."

He sniggers, "hey, you can say no. I mean I hope you don't but you can." Jaehyun leans in and raises his hands, "I won't like it, but a man should take rejection from a lady well."

I turn to him as he straightens up. I turn to the bagels he made me and bring it back to him. He laughs, "no, I made them for you really. It's not poisoned, in fact it's made with love."

I visibly react to that, which makes Jaehyun wheeze. I can't help but laugh back, "that was hella tacky."

"Worth a shot though," he says. "Good luck with Mark."

I look at him with silence and he chuckles, "ya, you can't fool me."

I'm about to retort but then Jaehyun gets called by one of the frats dudes I identify as Johnny Seo. Jaehyun does a curtsy and clicks his tongue, "see ya later babez."

"You know, I would have said yes if you didn't do stuff like that."

Jaehyun purses his lips, "no you wouldn't."

I shrug, "worth a shot though."

Jaehyun places a hand on his chest, dramatically calling, "Uh, rejection hurts, man."

Yeah, I never went to Jaehyun's boojie house ever again.

Silver lining though was Mark's dorm smelled equally as nice because of all the food he cooks, although it came with a whiff of axe body spray from his roommate, Lucas. It's cool though, he was almost never around for me to smell it in its whole intensity.

"Aite," Mark calls from his side of the dorm. I perk up from the two seater dining table they had and turn to Mark who was covering the cake he was making for his finals.

"Don't, like, peek, okay. I want you to see the cake all at once and give me your honest reaction to it. Please, like, all my lives kinda depend on it."

"How many lives do you have?"

"9, I'm pretty sure."

I stand from my seat, "not you faking your life as a cat, but get it I guess."

Mark raises a hand at me as I walk over, "can you not, I'm high-key panicking right now."

"Over what? You literally made a box of donuts for your midterms and it looked better than Misty Mreme! I'm sure your cake is hot."

"It was in the minifridge for a day. I mean it barely fit cause of all of Lucas' mountain dew."

I groan, "just show me it, Mark Lee!"

Mark whined and dashes over to me, grabbing my shoulders, "okay, but like, don't be mean about it. I swear, I might cry."

I give a sound and fake cough, "it's ugly."

Mark doesn't respond to that particular jab, "I'm serioussss. Please be kind, okay?"

I look at Mark's nervous face and give a soft pout, "Markie, please, not that I think it would be ugly, but I promise you don't have to be nervous about my reaction."

He isn't soothed by that, but he does release a sigh, "okay. So for context, Mr. Moon wanted the cake to be one or two tiers, but I went with one, cause there aint no way I'm going to the other side of the campus to freeze a two tiered cake. Then, the theme was something from your childhood, so, I, uh, thought this was fitting. The exam is 60 percent decoration, 40 percent taste by the way."

Mark gives me a hesitant look, but steps way for me to see it. I then see a heart shaped, medium sized cake in my favorite pastel pink color. By the top there's a little boy on the floor playing with a toy oven set and little girl in a bumble bee dress, holding a stethoscope. At the bottom of the cake, there were jelly letters spelling out, "I like you."

I cup my cheeks at the sight of it and feel my eyes start to well at the sentiment.

Wait... was this really happening?

Mark heaves in and out, "okay, so like when Jaehyun began to like hit on you, that sucked pretty hard because he's known for getting girls and I thought maybe he'd get you too and I got panicky. Anyway, I....... have liked you since we were kids... And... I know you probably don't feel the same way but I have to try, you know.... Yolo."

My feel my tears retract from what I hear. I rub my eyes. I turn to Mark and find his nervous face. "Did you just say yolo in your confession, Mark?"

He looks like he's about to throw up.

I can't help but chuckle and pout, "dude..."

I prolong the moment. Mark gets even more nervous as he repeats softly, "dude..."

"We could have dated in grade school all this time."

It takes a moment to register in his head.

Like, a really long moment.

I sigh, "Mark! I like you too, dummy."

He freezes and blinks. His face begins to burn. He breaks into a soft smile, "nice."

I break into a laugh.

"... Uh... So... Can I like... Kiss you?"

I snort and feel my own cheeks begin to burn, "I think you should refrigerate your cake first."

Mark snaps out of this trance, "oh shoot, you-" I give him a quick peck on the lips.

He is dumbfounded.

I feel butterflies go wild in my stomach.

"I'll wait over there for when you've fixed that."

Mark watches as I walk away, "yooo.... That's not fair though."

[codenamed-queenie]

#BatsInQuarantine

I am going insane. So I poured my restlessness into one long and very detailed post and got super into it. Please enjoy this hot mess.

The Justice League, being the well-meaning virus-proof Super Friends that they are, took one good look at the news, one good look at their non-powered friends Ollie, Bruce, and their families, and collectively decided that these normal humans must be Protected At All Costs.

Now, keep in mind, Bruce is never one to roll over when it comes to being benched. 

However, he understands the importance of social distancing. He knows he needs to set a good example for his kids, and keep up appearances as Gotham’s Most Responsible Multi-Billionaire. 

So. Quarantine it is. 

But how are his kids handling it?

Dick - 

100% on board in the beginning. Gotta do the Responsible Thing. Gotta set a Good Example. Besides, guys, this is gonna be Fun. Quality Family Time is always a Must.

He lasted 2 days. 

Then he started to get twitchy. 

And as everyone knows? A Trapped Dick Grayson is a Feral Dick Grayson.

He bounces off the walls.

Literally.

“I have to climb.” 

“Dick, no.”  

“I have to climb everything.”

Has scaled the manor 16 times already. Has climbed the chandelier. The banister. Bruce. The roof. The Cave. Anything in the house that’s been bolted down and especially anything that hasn’t. 

Duke found him clinging to the wall 10 ft off the ground like Spiderman and screamed so loud it shattered glass. 

Desperate for news of the outside. 

He thrives off of it like a starving man. 

Was the one to suggest he and Barbara take a break to Social Distance from each other (”Sorry, babe, kissing spreads germs”) and experienced Instant Regret(TM) approximately 5 minutes after. 

The Family has labelled him a Flight Risk Level 1 (Most likely to say f**k it and make a break for the outside world)

Jason - 

Accidentally got trapped inside the manor with the others when Bruce called Shutdown. If he had his way, he’d be chilling in his favorite safe-house right now, binging The Witcher with Roy and Artemis, and not worrying about finding a stray brother in his sock drawer.

But he’s nothing if not an opportunist. 

The way he sees it, Jason has 3 options:

Self Improvement

Self Isolation (See Duke, Cass, and Damian)

Descension Into Madness (See Dick and Steph)

And, well, he always wanted to try a few things. Now he’s got the free time to do it.

So he settles on baking. 

Alfred’s got enough food and raw ingredients stored up to feed an army. (Not because he’s a Panic-Buying-Hoarder in times like these. But because he’s a Panic-Buying-Hoarder all the time. Just try feeding 11+ teenagers sometime.)

Uses recipes he finds off Google.

His first few attempts are, in a word, ‘tragic’.

Alfred slips him a few of his recipe cards, and Jason suddenly starts seeing Results. 

Turns out he’s pretty good at this baking thing once he gets the hang of it. 

Hope everyone’s okay eating nothing but pie, macaroons, biscuits, and whatever else Jason whips up. 

Cause that’s gonna be the only food left by the time he’s done. 

Barbara - 

Self-quarantined with her dad. 

They’ve been binge-watching classic black and white movies together.

It’s a fun time, but she’s started to get a little antsy. Loving her dad and wanting to be around him 24/7 are, understandably, mutually exclusive. 

Calls the manor to video-chat every day.

For her sanity just as much as theirs. 

Gives everyone little challenges to film on their phones and send in. She makes compilations of everyone’s submissions so they can all watch and laugh together. 

Bonus points for Creativity

One comp shows the family trying to drop Mentos into coke bottles. 

Dick did a handstand, and dropped his Mento from the second story balcony. 

Tim did it wearing the Batman cowl. The soda exploded into his face, and the rest of the video is just Bruce’s Shrieking.

Stephanie tried it, but the bottle tipped. Everyone on camera screamed as the bottle rocketed through the front window. 

She spends most of her calls having one-on-one convos with Dick.

They’ve come up with little code phrases so they can be Cheesy even with family members lurking in the background. 

She thinks the way he clings to the monitor is cute. 

Almost like he’s giving her a hug through the screen. 

(It’s easier than letting herself worry about his mental state, at least)

Tim -

Oh this boy.

Freaked out for the first five minutes before he decided ‘hey wait, Bruce is letting me stay in my pajamas all day? Noice.’ 

Now he’s just vibing.

The rest of his family is Low-Key shielding him.

He Has No Spleen, you see.

Steph: “Someone could cough on him and he could die!”

He just goes about his day, playing Animal Crossing like there’s no tomorrow, tinkering on projects, taking naps, etc. Living his best life.

Meanwhile there’s always someone lurking behind him, keeping watch, keeping him safe. 

Dick sneezed within 5 feet of Tim once (the fact that he was on top of the dusty bookshelf Tim was perusing is irrelevant)

Jason still full-body tackled him the second Tim’s back was turned. 

No one with any symptoms--

Like, any symptoms. They don’t even have to be Corona-related.

--is allowed within 10 feet of Tim. 

Tim has been wandering the manor for weeks, now, without seeing another human being. 

(He sees Dick on the ceiling sometimes, but that doesn’t really count)

He’s been trying increasingly drastic pranks and shenanigans to draw someone, anyone, out. 

But it doesn’t matter how many times he steals Damian’s sword, or sets fire to Jason’s brownie bites.

Nobody wants to risk it. 

Cass - 

No one has seen her since quarantine started.

Everyone is approximately 87% sure she’s somewhere in the manor though

Because she does eat the meals Alfred leaves out for her.

Or at least someone does, at any rate. 

(Jason and Santa top the running suspects list)

Santa was Steph’s suggestion. For some reason it snowballed. 

It’s assumed that Cass misunderstood the meaning of ‘social distancing’ and took it too far. 

But no one knows for sure. 

She is Tim’s Guardian Angel. 

People who so much as clear their throats a little too loudly anywhere near him suddenly wake up on a different floor of the house four hours later. 

Duke came closest to spotting her while he was up in the attic. 

Either that, or there’s another Creepy Sister everyone forgot to tell him about living up there.

She is silent, and watchful, sticking to the shadows, but she does leave the occasional note out to brighten her siblings’ day. 

Things like ‘helo i love u’ and ‘hop u ar ok’  mostly. 

She is bound and determined to protect her family from this invisible threat, no matter the cost. 

Steph - 

Like Dick, she was Super Pumped at first. 

(Just kind of showed up at Wayne Manor before quarantine was enacted. The original purpose of her visit is unclear, but regardless, she’s Trapped.)

Also Like Dick, her descent into madness was swift.

She is impossible to pin down. 

Not like Cass or Damian, who’ve stayed off the grid, and are therefore Untraceable. 

No. She’s impossible to pin down, because she never stops moving. 

Switches seamlessly between Zumba on top of the Giant Dinosaur in the Batcave, and furiously knitting Alfred (the Cat) a sweater with a pair of Tim’s used chopsticks. 

Braided everyone’s hair while they were asleep.

Even Bruce’s. 

She tried to do Tim’s, but somehow blacked out and regained consciousness in the attic. 

When she woke up with a scream and a furiously twitching eye, she startled Duke out of his Makeshift Fort he built out of old cardboard boxes and antique furniture. He’s had to resort to finding a new hiding place. 

Sometimes, on the rare occasions she does sit still, staring off into the distance, she’ll suddenly start laughing hysterically. This may last between thirty seconds and thirty minutes, depending entirely on how long it’s been since she’s knitted a cat sweater or done cartwheels through every room in the house.

Blew up the greenhouse out back, somehow.

Everyone has agreed not to talk about it.

Some people were built to handle prolonged time inside their homes.

Stephanie Brown is not that way.

Damian - 

Damian Wayne Cannot Be Contained.

At least not inside the house. 

He took off thirty-six hours into quarantine. 

Thanks to the security equipment around the borders of the Wayne Estate, he can’t escape the grounds. 

(He’s tried and failed multiple times. Jason and Bruce have a running bet on how many times the perimeter alarms will go off per day.)

(Jason is winning.)

He wanders the grounds with Titus as his only companion. 

The two of them run laps, practice drills, and find ways to occupy their time. 

No one’s entirely sure what those ways are. 

In fact, nobody knows exactly where Damian is at any given time. 

Only that he is Out There. 

And he’s the best security system Wayne Manor’s ever had. 

So far, he’s stopped five groups of civilians scaling the perimeter walls before the lasers and electric nets even have a chance to deploy.

They were trying to break in and steal supplies. 

(Even ones they already had in surplus. Like Toilet Paper.)

He’s also stopped Dick from escaping twelve (12) times.

Drags him back by his shirt collar and deposits him on the welcome mat. 

Usually with a note for Alfred/Jason, requesting more fruit tarts. 

Duke - 

Did not leave the attic for two weeks. 

Then Steph discovered his hiding spot (read: was dumped there by Cassandra) which forced him to relocate to the basement. 

Yes, it turns out Wayne Manor does have a basement. 

This was a surprise to Duke, who always thought that the Batcave was Bruce Wayne’s basement. 

Alfred keeps him supplied with all the necessities:

i.e. food, magazines, assorted pastries from Jason’s latest batch, usually straight out of the oven.

Duke also snagged the Manor’s Alexa. 

She has become a sort of ‘Wilson’ to Duke’s ‘Chuck Noland’.

She is his only comfort. His only ally. 

He’s determined to wait out this quarantine, doing his best to avoid the others. 

Duke has seen these people under pressure. 

He knows exactly what he’s dealing with. 

Duke: “Alexa is the only motherf****r in this madhouse I ever respected.”

*offended butler noises from the other room*

Duke: “And also Alfred.”

[horrorisunknowntoyou]

I know you pretty much just posted ‘The blade Lives On’ But whenever you have the time could you do a pt. 2 with y/n and dreams son just breaking into prison to see dream or whatever chaotic shenanigans those two might end up doing, possibly technos reaction to y/n hanging out with dreams son or just general HC’s. All platonic of course. Feel free to ignore this request or take as much time as you need on it, no rush. I just found your fics recently and I love them so keep up the great work!!

Omg thank you so much 🙏 it means so much to know that , that’s the nicest thing someone has said to me. It’ll my pleasure to write this for you. ] 

The Blade and Trickster 

 Breaking into the prison wasn’t as bad but it was very timing consuming as they studied the blue prints and find a entrance through there. Spirit ( his nickname) had to squeeze though and basically climbed through the vents and kicked the vent opening. To the surprised of dream who jumped up , spirit perked out “ hey dad, I’m here to break you out cause mom told me to and he’s very angry at you cause you got imprison on date night. “ Y/n was in the background laughing at the explanation but the funny thing is it’s true. 

Dream just stood there and snicker “ that sounds like your mother , well break me out then. “ Spirit lends a hand out and help him up as they climb out the vents and enter pearl the rest out. Y/n took out her sword and broke the hand cups off dream . “ we better hurry before anyone noticed you gone mostly Sam, and the new “world leaders” in the smp.” 

Dream looked at y/n and perked up “ Now , now what’s your reason for helping me for? Did your brother sent you? “ Y/n glance up and then looked forward “ No, I did it under my occurred and second you owe me a favor. Also spirit is my friend so there’s that too. “ Dream hummed in response as he followed behind walking to his secret house/hideout which took forever but he memorized the path like the back of his hand. There stood George fidgeting to see if there coming back yet and sees them dock up in the boats , he smiles and runs over to dream tackling into a tight hug almost knocking him over. “ Woah , Woah George! It’s okay , I’m okay “ he hugs him back and smiles walking back inside the obsidian fortress. 

Both spirit and y/n got very nicely rewarded for there part mostly spirit as he has no chores for 3 months , and such. 

Head-cannons

1. You and spirit are pranksters and play pranks on the others mostly the world leaders. There people who take control certain lands like there eret , bad , ranboo , Tommy , tubbo , dream? , Wilbur when he got revived. And such and they hate it especially Tommy. 

2. Dream is weirdly genuinely nice to you and spirit like no manipulation or anything , I mean you make his son happy and such and protect George when he ask so your okay in his book. 

3. You and Tommy and tubbo don’t have a good relationship with each other and there obvious tension as you grew up under different life styles. So you would always butt heads with each other along side spirit. 

4. Spirit was your partner in crime and you both made an agreement and such on what to and not do. For no betrayals and such , because each other’s know there caregiver ( techno , dream ) will bring hell against each other if they found out. 

5. You two would buy out Nikkis bake good and go to the top of a hill and eat them like there no tomorrow and have stomachs aches. 

6. Dadza and techno eventually met spirit but it was awkward and both of you wanted to leave but eventually it was pretty chill and mutual with each other. 

7. You actually sleep over George’s house with spirit and such , George is pretty sweet with you and would show you to sapnap and such. You’ll Get to train and up you skills and just hangout. 

8. You both like going on adventures , you once spent a whole day Looking for a woodland mansion to steal stuff etc. 

Techno’s reaction 

Techno wasn’t too suprised and was pretty okay with it, at most he was hesitant over it and wants you to be okay as your his little sister after all. But once you explained it all he was perfect fine. 

“y/n if dream ever makes you uncomfortable or tries anything , I will personally get out of retirement and beat him myself for you. I’m serious , I don’t want him to do anything to you. Alright?” You know , meanwhile dadza look like he almost had a heart  attack hearing that, probably cause old man is tired of him but you reassured you okay and gave him lots of hugs. 

[helenazbmrskai]

Fuckboy Training 4

Part 1 – Part 2 – Part 3 – Part 4 – Part 5 (end)

Pairing – Gym Instructor! Jungkook x OC

Genre – College AU, Fuckboy AU, Gym Club AU, Boxing AU, Sport AU, Enemies To Lovers, Smut, Angst

Summary – [There’s a fitness club at your University run by the seven most popular kids in school, girls usually come in long lines the unwritten rule is you can get free exercise after training if you know what I mean *wink*]

Warnings – fuckboys, semi-slow burn, mention of sex, mutual pining, exercise (yuk), bantering, sexual tension, jk is a lil’ shit here but we love him, angst

Word Count – (3,4k)

Menu: Masterlist l Be part of my permanent taglist to recieve a notification when I upload a new fic or send an ask!

⤷ Part of Bangtan Gym Club

"Did you make this?" I carefully choose a cupcake from the offered plate, the dessert looks pretty pleasing to the eyes, edible pearls sitting on top of the purple coloured whipped cream, I take a big bite out of the cute cake and my eyes go wide tasting the delicious treat, the dough was made with chocolate powder and in the middle of it there's a ball of melted chocolate chips that oozes out when I bit off the half. "I did, but you didn't come all the way here to ask about my baking skills, do you?" Seokjin sets the plate down full of baked goods, pulling out a chair to sit in front of me, I came to his house with the purpose of asking about Jungkook and what he thinks about us going on a date. I desperately needed a new perspective of the situation even if it will console me or verify my suspicions and considering the fact that Jin already knows we slept together and witnessed out fight he's the right one to seek advice from he knows Jungkook like the back of his hand probably have a guess or two what's happening. "Jungkook asked me if I would like to go on a date with him," I observe Jin's reactions through the thick curtain of my hair his face remains neutral doesn't seem surprised by my statement and that confuses me further.  Does this mean Jungkook asked for advice from him too or just suspected this to happen? I have no idea. "What was your response to him? Did you say no?" I lift up the half-eaten cupcake and stuff my mouth full. He looks so casual about this, I remember how freaked out he was when I told him we slept together, I wonder what made a difference this time.

  "I asked for time. I told him I'll say yes if he thinks this through and try again on Friday." I tell Jin how we ended the fight after he left to get the full picture of the ongoing events in our relationship, how uncomfortable it felt to train with him afterwards and spoke about his weird reaction when I told him it was just a one night stand. Jin listens carefully nodding sometimes to let me know he's invested in my story and to continue I told him everything I could possibly think of in this situation in hopes for that he can give me some good advice. "I'm not sure if I am entitled to tell you this, but I'll make an exception for you to dissolve your worries." Scratching on his neck Jin looks unsure how to start on what he's about to say, but I wait patiently letting him collect his words as I help myself another cupcake from the pile, his smile returns thanks to the gesture tossing the plate closer to where I can reach it conveniently. "I don't know how much do you know about our Kookie, but he wasn't like this always. We became friends when he was a high schooler I got to know him through Namjoon who got to know him through other friends like Jimin and Taehyung who attended the same school. Yoongi got introduced later as he and Namjoon started working on a project together Yoongi was originally a music major but had to resign as his parents weren't pleased about his choices." I never really sat down and thought about how the seven of them got to be best friends even though they don't share the same majors, so I find it interesting to learn the connections, it makes sense, Taehyung and Jimin are at the same age and Jungkook must be a boy who was attending the same school just weren't in the same class. Yoongi and Hoseok seemed close because they knew each other before the others - it all makes sense now - as Yoongi and Namjoon gradually became close by a project and working together since then. "Our Kookie was very shy and smart in middle school. Girls liked him because he was cute but there was this girl he liked. She was extremely popular, you know the drill, the captain of the cheerleader team they always go for the jocks so our Kook never had a real chance with her. He wanted to change himself to be more appealing he started working out and be more confident applying to be on the football team." I already know how's this story going to end, if you go out of your way to change yourself for someone to love you it just only lasts for that long, a relationship cannot be built on a fake ground because the pillars will collapse very soon no matter how pretty the house is. High school is a weird and uncertain stage of life, at least for me it was like that, the sheer want to fit in, every problem looks so much bigger than it actually is once you are a teenager honestly everything was so weird back then that I don't know what I was thinking. As I started University a sense of maturity came with the responsibility, there's only two way to go after high school, get your life together or waste your opportunities and throughout these years here I met plenty of both examples. It feels nostalgic to think about my first year here, so many things are different right now, if I am being honest I never thought I will come so far this way, pass those classes and pass those exams. "So he got into the football team?" I asked, exchanging a meaningful gaze with Jin before he tells me what happened after. "Of course he did we are talking about Jeon Jungkook here, he always goes for what he wants and that never changes." The serious atmosphere shifts into a more animated one as he joked, and I can't agree with him more, he really goes for the things he wants - I guess some habits die hard - knowing that my over procrastinating way of thinking stuck with me after high school too. "He practised hard to be better than that guy she had a crush on, that girl only dated the school star players and when Jungkook achieved that title he asked her to be his girlfriend, she said yes." My features distort in confusion, so far so good, so what happened? It seems like he got the girl and gained popularity on the way, that doesn't sound too bad. Seeing the confusion on my face Jin continues the story that takes a quick three hundred and sixty degree turn. "Jungkook caught said girl while she was cheating on him with that player she had a crush on after practice in the locker room. She didn't like Jungkook just wanted his popularity and liked the way he worshipped her." "Let me guess, so after that, he made it his mission in life to screw girls over just like that girl played him. This is how he became a fuckboy?" The situation appears to be pretty clear, even as I understand his part or why he would be hurt over that, I can't help but get angry over the fact that he plays with girls - just the way that girl did - and hurt him and he goes out of his way to cause that pain to others just to give him a sick satisfaction. This doesn't make sense to me at all, I never saw it on him to have bad intentions towards any girls, and the images of that winter night in my first year at University filters through my mind confusing me even more. Why did he do that then? "No. You take this in the wrong way Y/N. Our Kookie is not like that at all. He's pretty sweet if you get to know him it's just that he doesn't show that side of him to many people and not just because it would ruin his fuckboy image but because he's still shy and afraid to get hurt if he shows to much kindness." Jin is keen to make me understand his point of view, he doesn't want his friend to appear under bad lights due to his past experiences, not many people know this about him that he so kindly confessed to me, and I feel a little stupid that I automatically assumed the worst-case scenario. I should have heard Jin out before I was going to speculate. "Oh." It escapes my pursed lips. "He looked rather shy when he asked me out but I don't think I have ever seen him acting shy before that." I feel bad for suggesting that to him to think his invitation over, with this information Jin provided me with, it's clear now he thought it over enough times to finally collect sufficient amount of courage to ask me. At least I didn't say no though. "For a long time, he didn't show signs of interest in dating just enjoying the casual sex but it doesn't mean he's holding a grudge against women and not ready to give that lifestyle up for someone that's worthy of his love and considering what you told me he probably thinks you are worth it." Jungkook thinks I am worth it? Why does this proclamation I heard from Jin's big mouth makes me feel giddy and eerie in my stomach? It feels good, I made the right choice by coming here Jin has his persuasion skills mastered just like how good is Hoseok at making those kicked puppy eyes. No wonder they are so popular among our University's female population each one of them has their own unresistible talent and charms. "Thank you for telling me all this Jin. It helped me understand him a lot better, you know I was really anxious if he was serious about this or not, I know it's stereotypical to say but he's a fuckboy, so I had ideas." I sheepishly tuck my head low, but he dismisses my apologies. It was not always like this when I first set my eyes on Jeon Jungkook my opinion about his personality was notably different. My first year in Uni was nothing close to a pleasant experience, I had to take the train to catch my classes and I woke up extremely early each morning to travel. It was on one of my longer days when I missed my train home due to the lecturer not letting us go on time and the next train was scheduled in a two-hour gap, I remember I was crying due to exhaustion waiting for the bus to take me to the train station it was cold and dark outside, Uni was still busy despite the late hours so I crouched down next to the seats under the glass protection of the stop and cried like a baby tucking my head between my knees so no one can actually see my face if someone happened to wait for their bus as well. "Are you alright?" A kind voice questioned suddenly he sounded genuinely concerned for me and that made me cry harder, his hand lingered above my head probably thinking about if he should leave me alone or not, at last, he curled his scarf around me I remember it felt nice against my cold skin and it smelled good too. The boy patted my head before walking away, I got curious who can this kind boy possibly be so I looked up rubbing my hands against my tear-stained cheeks following the boy's retreating form, pulling the scarf closer to preserve the heat.

I don't think I have ever anticipated Friday as much as I am currently, I used the duration of the week to really think things through as Jin made me hopeful about that Jungkook is ready to start over with me. On Thursday I met with Yoongi and Namjoon since they were really excited to show their music to the world but terrified too so I went to cheer them on and I congratulated them first when they finished their session with the campus radio. After that, we went to eat and celebrate together - the duo is quite a character - I enjoyed their company more than I first expected to and after a few drinks on our tab the boys created a group chat for the three of us with the name of 'Y/N and the boyz' I thought before that I am fairly close with Yoongi, but now I think, through him, I got to know Namjoon a lot better and surprisingly the three of us is a very weird combination but in a good way. They have put me at ease for a while. Things seem to work out well nowadays however I am still nervous about this afternoon my training with Jungkook is fast approaching and I am afraid, what if he changed his mind and no longer want to take me out on a date, that he realised it was a bad move to do. Or worse, I discouraged him and now he thinks I am just like that girl from high school.

"I am serious here, don't you dare laugh." I slap both Namjoon and Yoongi across their chests walking between their bodies made the situation easier as I was able to hit both of them at the same time. "If I have to tell some girl that I didn't fuck my way through the seven of you and I'm not the one they should ask for advice to woo you I'm going to be really pissed .." I ramble but stop once I meet eyes with Jungkook. "Hi." I offer him a small smile, it's a bit awkward as he greets me back, Yoongi hits me on my back beckoning me to step closer and by the force of his hands, I do. "We're going. Don't forget our plans tomorrow, ok?" I nod hearing Namjoon's reminder, I promised to meet with them and listen to the new track they are working on, we didn't agree on anything but I am happy they are involving me in their projects, they claimed me as their number one fan and co-manager and I am totally okay with it. "I know, I'll be there." I rolled my eyes playfully and they turned around to go in their separate ways leaving me and Jungkook standing in front of the gym's entrance, I look down to see the time before gazing up at him, usually, he's here early it's not typical for Jungkook to be late for practice. He looks as nervous as he was on Monday when he asked me out, perhaps he had the same concerns as me, thinking that I'll change my mind and reject him I feel bad for him after knowing how his history with asking out a girl never ended well and I want to be the girl who changes that experience for him. "Let's go in?" I offer, trying to make our exchange less embarrassing and more relaxed like how it used to be. Not saying I miss his cocky attitude but our playful banters after every additional comment does. We part ways to change into our workout clothes, I curse once realising Jin's big shirt I borrowed is the only thing I have to wear as a top, I forgot to change it and I ended up not crossing paths with him during my free time between classes so I couldn't return it and the top I use originally is probably hanging on my dryer mocking me from afar. I can't show up wearing Jin's clothes in front of him, what if he thinks I am trying to make fun of him? No, that can't happen. I bite my lips pulling my shirt over my head standing in my sports bra in front of the single mirror. I can't leave like this either. I put my shirt back on and knock on the boy's dressing room Jungkook opens it but I got a glimpse of Taehyung's side profile pulling his shirt back on, we make eye contact for a split second before I refocus on Jungkook, realising he was in the process of putting on a shirt. "Uh .. sorry. I .. So I don't have a shirt to change into can I perhaps borrow something of yours?" I internally cringe listening to my stuttering I hear Taehyung's full-blown laugh behind us, finding my blushing face hilarious, not helping my embarrassment that Jungkook seems frozen in place. "Are you going to move or should I lend her my shirt instead?" Taehyung snicker in the background swinging Jungkook into motion, he turns to rummage through his bag pulling out a baggy black shirt that I immediately recognise. This oversized shirt is one of those that I saw him in often probably meaning that he likes to wear this a lot. I thank him, taking the clothing article out of his hand, retreating to the girl's changing room to get dressed properly. Looking myself up and down watching my reflection in the mirror my body gets lost in the fabric and it's quite long it looks like I am not wearing my gym shorts but I do, it just doesn't show under his shirt.

Jungkook fidgets in place once I arrive pushing those heavy doors out of the way his eyes following my body as I enter finding his gaze immediately but the contact soon gets interrupted as he quickly looks away. Following his warming up exercise instructions, I make sure to seductively roll my hips or show off my boobs as I am doing push-ups his large shirt makes my plan flow easier as it hangs around my body loosely. His eyes linger on my form for longer than it would be appropriate but that's not new, unlike the way he tries to hide the fact that he's staring at them. Using a box to do step-ups my heel slips on the edge throwing me off balance but thanks to Jungkook's quick reflexes he catches me before I could fell. This was not planned at all but being in his arms makes my thoughts spiral back to that I would do it again if he catches me like this, holding me close like this. Turning in his hold I can't stop the way my body reacts to him tilting my head so I can plant a short kiss onto his pouty lips. "Y-you're acting weird Y/N. Are you ok?" Keeping me at arm's length he separates our bodies but doesn't take away his hold on my shoulders his big warm hands feeling good on my skin. "Perfectly fine." I huff momentarily out of breath, I step back letting his hands fall next to his sides I turn to hide my feelings of being embarrassed. I know I should say something but I am unable to tell him what I really want him to hear. "Is this about what happened on Monday?" Jungkook asks hesitantly, his whole act seems off that scares me more than our previous passive-aggressive way of dealing with things. Things just never seem to go as I would like them to be between us. "Are going to ask me? It's ok if you changed your mind though." I tried to appear as if I was cool with the other scenario when I was in reality far from being ok about it. Did he really change his mind? Realised that I'm not what he wants after all? "Change my mind? What. No." He shakes his head violently grabbing my shoulders again to make me face him. "It's just .. did you?" Peering up into my eyes he looks vulnerable under the lamp's light. "I want to say yes," I admitted shyly avoiding eye contact but for not long as he places a finger under my chin to lift it up. "Do you promise you'll not play with my feelings?" Silence settles between us as we stare into each other's eyes his hand comes up to cup one side of my cheek and runs his thumb over the smooth skin reassuringly. "Promise." A smile appears on both of our faces closing the distance our lips lock onto a sweet and slow kiss.

[mr-and-mr-diaz]

*Gasp* And They Were NEIGHBORS! A Buddie Neighbor AU

This fic is dedicated to @agentmarymargaretskitz who sent me the original prompt (as well as so many others when I wasn’t feeling well, seriously can’t thank you enough and I will respond to each of your asks, I’m just savoring them) and to @justsmilestuffhappens who I have been mutualling back and forth with for a REALLY long time (Hi! Nice to meet you, I love you already!) and wanted to see this prompt happen!

***

“I SWEAR to god, Buck, if I hear even one more word out of your mouth about this guy and his kid I will throw you over this balcony!”

“But Hen--”

“He’s gorgeous, I know! And his kid is the cutest thing since puppies! We get it! Now stop talking about it and do something about it!” Hen sounded mostly exasperated, but dare Buck hope he still heard a little fondness in there as well?

He smiled. “Right. Okay.” Silence followed as he wracked his brains. “Wait, what should I do?? This guy doesn’t know me at all, I haven’t gone over yet to say hello, I’m so worried about being awkward or overkill--”

“Overkill? You??” Chimney chuckled from across the firehouse loft where he was playing the pinball arcade. 

“Hey!”

“In all seriousness, Buck,” Chim turned and addressed him, his smile gone from teasing to kind. “You’re gonna be fine, just go say hi. The sooner you get it over with, the less awkward it’ll be. Also, remember you still gotta find out if he’s interested. And available too; if he’s as hot as you say, he could already be dating someone.”

“Oh shit! Wait, what if he is?” Buck put his face in his hands and groaned. “Urgh, what should I do?”

“Why not take over some of those cookies I taught you how to bake last week, Buck?” Buck raised his eyes to Bobby, who was watching him with a small, patient smile. “Nothing out of the ordinary about bringing some baked goods to a new neighbor. It’s a great way to introduce yourself and get in their good books.”

“Okay!” Buck nodded. “Can you help me bake them again, Cap?”

Bobby's nodded, already headed for the pantry. “Of course.”

***

Eddie sighed. He was so glad he moved but it didn’t stop the process from being hell. It had been a long day job hunting and he still needed to find a good school for Chris. At the moment, Chris was in the living room, watching TV.

Eddie got up and went over to the fridge, digging around for the Tupperware of dinner Abuela had sent over and transferring it to a pot to reheat. Soon the smell of delicious posole filled the house and he sat, taking a moment just to savor the scent and feel just a bit more at home.

He was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“No rest for the weary.” Sighing, Eddie stood and shuffled over, glancing through the peephole. A tall man stood there, his hair short and neatly slicked back. He was shuffling back and forth awkwardly, a covered plate in his hands. 

Who is this? Eddie opened the door.

“Can I help you?”

“Uh hey!” The man’s eyes lit up and he looked Eddie up and down. He was a bit taller than Eddie and dressed sharply in a firefighter’s uniform. Eddie instantly became aware of the ratty sweatpants and loose Henley he’d thrown on as soon as he’d gotten back home and how mussed his hair likely was from running his fingers through it in frustration. Weirdly though, the man’s smile didn’t dim. 

“Hi, My name’s Evan Buckley, I’m your neighbor! Apartment 2B.” He smiled, eyes lingering on Eddie’s for just a moment too long, before he jolted and laughed awkwardly, lifting his hands up. “Cookies! Uh, I mean, I made cookies for you.” The man lifted the cloth off the plate and a heavenly smell wafted from  a pile of delicious looking cookies. “They’re chocolate chip macadamia--wait, you don’t have any allergies right? Or gluten intolerant or anything? Or, shit, are you vegan? I should’ve asked, there’s eggs in here...” Evan made to cover the plate again, but Eddie put out a hand, stopping him. He couldn’t help grinning at the guy--the way he rambled, his bright smile. 

“You think I’m gonna let you walk away with those now that you’ve offered? They smell great, Evan.”

“Oh thank goodness!” The smile was back and brighter. “And, uh, feel free to call me Buck, all my friends do. And welcome to the neighborhood! It’s nice here, everyone’s polite, except Mr. Grivary in 4C, he can be a bit--but of course you don’t want to hear me rambling...” The guy blushed and Eddie felt his own smile widen. This man was adorable.

“Actually, that sounds like useful information Buck.” Eddie remembered Abuela’s dinner and held the door wider. “I’m not really a cook myself, but we have my Abuela’s posole for dinner, would you like to join us?”

“Yes!! I mean,” Buck blushed again and cleared his throat. “Yeah sure, if it isn’t any trouble...”

***

Buck felt like he’d barely fallen asleep when his doorbell rang.

“Hmm?” He mumbled at the door. Which of course could not be heard by whoever was on the other side. They rang the doorbell again.

“Ugh, fuck... Yeah, coming!” Buck dragged himself out of bed and stumbled to the door, glancing through the peephole. He couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on his face as he caught sight of golden brown curls, red glasses, and the world’s cutest smile. 

“Chris!” He pulled the door open. “What’s up, buddy?”

“I’ve got news!” Chris giggled as he carefully walked into Buck’s apartment and sat himself down at the kitchen table. Buck automatically reached for his crutches and propped them against the chair. It was hardly the first time Chris had come to visit; he came over often to play games, tell Buck about his day, or help him try out a new recipe. “Our school is holding a bake sale on Friday.”

“Those are fun.” Buck sat down across from Chris, voice lowered conspiratorially. “What are you making?”

“That’s the thing.” Christopher’s tone turned sad. “The teacher said it has to be homemade and Dad’s been stressing out about it. He’s super busy with his new job and I know he wants to help, but... He burned water once. Just water.” 

“Aw man.” Buck put in every effort not to laugh, but a giggle still escaped. “You want me to help you put something together, take the pressure off your dad?” Christopher nodded happily and Buck reach for his notebook where he carefully documented all of Bobby’s recipes. “How’s cupcakes sound, Superman?”

In short order, they had all the ingredients lined up on the counter, and Chris was comfortably seated right next to the mixer, ready to dump in anything Buck handed him.

“...And then, only after that you want to add the dry stuff. I don’t really know the science behind it yet, I just know that it works. If I do find out, I’ll tell you.”

“Okay. Buck?”

“Hmm?” Buck consulted Bobby’s notes carefully and measured out a cup of flour, handing it over to be added to the mix.

“Where did you learn how to bake so well? Did your mom or dad teach you?”

Buck grinned. “Nah. My captain at the fire station is the best cook I’ve ever met. Everything I baked for you guys I learned from him.”

“Oh.” Christopher reached out a hand for the second cup of carefully measured flour. “Are your parents also bad cooks like my dad?”

“Well, no. My parents are nothing like your dad.” Buck sobered. “My mom cooked a little for us, but mostly we ordered in. And she never... uh, she never had time to teach me or Maddie. I didn’t have a complete homemade meal until I started working at the 118.” He shook his head to clear the thoughts and smiled at Christopher. “But now thanks to Cap, I got an almost-dad who cooks for me every day! And now he’s teaching me so I can do it one day for my kids, if I’m ever lucky enough to have them.” 

Christopher thought for a second, absently reaching for the teaspoon of baking powder and adding it to the mix before saying. “I already have a dad, and I don’t want to trade him for anything. But... Could you be my second dad?”

Buck looked up from the salt, startled.

“Like a cooking almost-dad who teaches me how to cook just like your Cap does for you? I want to be able to help Dad so he stops feeling so bad about not cooking.” Christopher was smiling at him, waiting for a response. Buck looked away quickly and took a deep breath, clearing the sudden thickness in his throat and blinking away wet eyes.

“Y-yeah, sure, Chris. I’d be happy to.”

 ***

Eddie arrived home from work exhausted. As he approached the door, he noted how quiet the apartment sounded. Usually that meant that Christopher was hanging out by Buck’s, but Buck’s apartment was also quiet and dark. Hurrying toward the door, Eddie fumbled with his key and jerked it open as fast as he could--

“SURPRISE!!”

For only two people, Buck and Christopher still managed to startle the shit out of him.

“Fu-fudge! Guys what the hell...!”

“Happy birthday, Dad!” Christopher called from the table.

“Happy birthday, Eddie!” Buck was bent over something, his broad back blocking whatever it was. Then he rose and stepped away to Christopher’s side. He grinned, cheeks slightly flushed. “It’s not perfect, Cap would’ve done it better, but I’d say for Chris and I’s first ever layer cake it’s pretty darn good!” He and Chris high-fived each other as Eddie stepped closer.

The cake was lopsided, and the icing oozed down the sides a bit and on top... was that the number 32?

“Chris did all the writing,” Buck added proudly. “As the mastermind behind this, it was only right that he got the honors.”

“What do you think, Dad?” Chris’ voice bubbled over with delight.

Eddie looked up. They were both watching him, eyes bright, smiles wide, waiting on his response. I think--no, I know have the best kid ever.

And the best Buck.

Eddie couldn’t contain the huge grin that broke out on his face. “It’s perfect.” He looked a them, eyes meeting Christopher's, then Buck’s. “Thank you.”

***

“So when do I get to meet her?” Abuela was layering a container with tamales, her back to Eddie.

“Who?”

“The person you’ve been sharing all my cooking with.” Abuela’s tone brooked no nonsense. “The person who makes you smile to yourself every time you think I’m not looking.”

Eddie startled. “Oh, Buck? He’s not... we’re not--”

“Nonsense, mi amor.” Abuela chuckled, clamping the lid down on the container of tamales and handing them to Eddie’s slack hands. “If he isn’t, then he should be.”

Eddie stopped where he was. Abuela is right. Chris adores him, I adore him... What am I waiting for?

He reached for his phone and sent out a text.

To: Buck

From Eddie:

Abuela made tamales. Come over tonight?