#was that yesterday???? I think I’m getting my days mixed up

[helaintoloki]

Back to You

pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

warnings: mild language, pining, fluff

notes: my bucky and yelena brain rot is off the charts which is how this came about

summary: Yelena’s interest in y/n forces Bucky to confront his feelings for her as the Thunderbolts take refuge in her home

“I can’t thank you enough for this.”

“Well, this is definitely more interesting than whatever I had planned today,” you respond jokingly as you finish stitching closed the gash on Bucky’s pectoral. “I will say, if I knew I’d be having company I probably would have tidied up a bit around here.”

Both yours and Bucky’s gazes turn to the group of beaten down misfits that occupy your living room at the mention of company. The amount of people taking refuge in your home made it appear almost comically small, but you weren’t exactly new to having to take care of super heroes- or in this case antiheroes- on a whim like this.

Before Thanos and the Blip, you had been a good friend of Steve’s. As his neighbor across the hall who also happened to be a nurse, he tended to treat your apartment like his own personal health clinic after a particularly grueling day of protecting the city. You welcomed him in without question of course, and after some time he had begun bringing friends in need of patch jobs with him. This was how you met Sam and Natasha, and eventually Bucky. You were enthralled by the turmoil swimming in his eyes and his reserved nature, and your gentleness and willingness to help a total stranger like him with no reservation had stuck with Bucky forever.

You lost touch with them all after the Sokovia Accords debacle and being turned into dust for five years, but once the work of the infinity stones had been reversed and you were able to attempt a life at normalcy, Bucky and Sam had returned right back to your doorstep.

In the years that passed, you and Bucky had been able to form a close friendship. It didn’t happen without growing pains throughout the process of course, and it took time for the super soldier to open himself up to you so intimately, but you’d been able to reach a point where Bucky could come to you for anything and vice versa. So when he’d called five minutes before his arrival asking to seek shelter in your modest home, you immediately agreed without question.

“Alright, you’re good to go,” you inform him after smoothing out the bandage on his chest. Looking out to the rest of the group, you hold up your first aid kit and ask, “Anyone else need some TLC?”

You’re met with silence to which Bucky offers you a comforting pat on the shoulder before hopping off of your counter. The group looks more exhausted and defeated than anything, and he convinces you they’ll probably be fine.

“Well, in the meantime, would anyone like breakfast? I think I have some pancake mix around here somewhere,” you murmur absently, and this gets some heads to finally turn.

“Pancakes… would be nice,” Yelena offers with pursed lips and a shrug, trying to be inconspicuous as she obviously snoops through your things.

“Do you have eggs?” John voices tiredly. “I could really go for some scrambled eggs.”

“Eggs and pancakes… anything else?”

“I cannot have eggs without bacon,” Alexei notes thoughtfully only for Bucky to roll his eyes.

“You don’t have to cook all of that,” he tries to assure you only for you to shake your head in response.

“It’s really no problem, I’m just glad I went grocery shopping yesterday.”

You give Bucky a reassuring smile before disappearing into the kitchen, allowing him the chance to finally walk over and snatch the frame Yelena had been scrutinizing behind your back from her grasp.

“What are you doing?” He retorts in annoyance before setting it back down on the shelf. “We’re guests here, you can’t just touch all of her stuff.”

“She has a photo of my sister,” the blonde rebuffs defensively, “I have a right to touch it. Why does she have it?”

“Before she was my friend, she was Steve’s friend. He introduced her to Natasha, and they became friends too. Good friends.”

“Hmm,” she replies thoughtfully, finally easing up a bit as she takes in the information. “If Natasha considered her a friend, then I will too.”

“Yeah, I think she’s good on friends right now,” Bucky scoffs. Yelena raises a brow at his annoyance before a coy smile begins to form on her lips.

“Are you threatened by me, Barnes?” She prompts with a laugh, only doubling down when she notices the aggravated tick of his jaw. “Because it’s okay if you are, I understand. I mean, she is a beautiful woman, and I can see how much you love her-“

“Hold on a minute, what are you talking about?”

“Surely you cannot be this stupid,” Yelena affirms with a teasing smile that soon falls at Bucky’s flustered demeanor. “Or maybe you are.”

“I don’t love y/n,” Bucky says defensively, voice hushed to avoid any prying ears from listening to their conversation. “She’s just a good friend.”

“Well, if she’s just a good friend then you won’t mind if I go talk to her and tell her how much I love what she’s done with this place,” Yelena states plainly with a mischievous smile as she makes her way towards the kitchen only to be stopped by Bucky grabbing onto her arm.

“Don’t,” he warns with a scowl. From his spot on the couch, Alexei laughs.

“You are smart to stop her, Barnes,” he notes proudly, “my Yelena is quite the lady killer.”

“What’s the harm, Barnes? You obviously do not want to date this beautiful woman who has opened her home to us, so why can’t I?”

“If I admit I love her will you stop?” Bucky begs despite the clear aggravation in his tone. With her hands raised in surrender and lips pulled into a small frown, Yelena suspends her march towards the kitchen once Bucky finally relinquishes his hold on her arm. “Thank you.”

“Life is short, James. Do not let her sit and wait for you forever.”

Bucky lets out a long exhale through his nose at her words, and despite how much she annoys him, he knows she’s right. Bucky loves you and has always held a deep sense of admiration for the selfless woman who had taken him and Steve in without question despite the fact that it would get her into trouble with the government. You were one of the first to show him genuine kindness after spending years under Hydra’s thumb, and he’d never be able to forget that. You are his light in darkness, his saving grace, his confidant, and that’s why he’s so hesitant to fully bring you into his world by asking you to be his partner. Being friends keeps you at an arm’s length from the dangers of his life, but being the one he comes home to after a high stakes mission puts you in a whole new light to his enemies, and he’s not sure if he’s ready to put you through that just yet.

“Breakfast is on the table!” You call out from the kitchen, and Bucky watches with a wry grin as every person in the living room moves their aching bodies hastily into the dining room to get a chance at scoring some of your pancakes. You meet him shortly after and present him his own plate of pancakes, eggs and bacon to enjoy in peace away from the rest.

“You look like you have a lot on your mind so I figured you’d want to eat out here,” you explain with a careful smile before joining him on the couch. “You gonna be okay?”

“I don’t know if these guys are up for this,” he admits almost dejectedly, casting a glance towards the dining room where the Thunderbolts sit loudly bickering over the syrup bottle.

“Hey, as long as they have you there with them, I think they’ll be okay,” you comfort reassuringly, reaching forward to give his arm a tender squeeze.

“I really doubt that, but thanks,” Bucky responds with a weak chuckle, “you keep me sane.”

“It’s my speciality.”

A comfortable silence washes over you then as you meet each other’s tender gazes and enjoy the rare moment of peace shared between you both. Bucky longs to just pull you into his arms and hold you, but he resists and instead returns to enjoying his breakfast.

“We’ll be out of your hair as soon as they’re done eating,” Bucky reassures you only for you to give him an indifferent shrug.

“That’s fine, but can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Are you ever going to kiss me?” You prompt with an innocent smile, catching poor Bucky off guard as he momentarily chokes on his pancakes.

“What?” He splutters, fist thumping on his chest to help the food go down.

“I mean, maybe I’m reading it all wrong, but I feel like sometimes you look at me like you want to kiss me,” you explain simply, “and I wouldn’t mind if you did.”

“That obvious, huh?” He sighs with a bashful smile before setting his plate down on the coffee table.

“Yeah, well, that and also Yelena might have told me something on her way to the dining room,” you offer with an apologetic laugh.

“Oh, god, what did she say?”

“Something along the lines of if you never man up and decide to tell me how you feel that I should give her a call.”

“She’s a pain in my ass,” he grumbles irately, but his tone softens as he looks to you in remorse and continues, “but she’s right. You deserve to know how I feel about you.”

Smiling, you move closer to the super soldier so that you can curl into his side and rest your head upon his chest. His arms immediately come to wrap around your figure as he kisses the crown of your head, prompting you to let out a content sigh.

“We can figure out all the details when you get back from saving the world,” you assure him, “but just know that I love you, and I’ll be here waiting for you to come home.”

“Home,” Bucky sighs wistfully, already mourning your time together as he thinks about having to leave you behind. “I can promise you this- nothing is going to stop me from coming back to you.”

You look up to meet his tender gaze and are pleasantly surprised when he leans down to press a careful kiss to your lips. Your heart beats rapidly in your chest as you savor the moment you’ve been longing for ever since you met Bucky, and by the way he kisses you as if you are the air he needs to breathe, you think it’s safe to assume he feels the same.

His heart is yours, and as you tenderly embrace from the comfort of your couch, you can rest assured that to Bucky, home is where you are.

[achilles-rage]

Cookies

summary: you and buck bake cookies at 3am.

word count: 1.8k

a/n: hey... how y'all doing... i am finally making my comeback!! if you missed my post from yesterday (i answered a bunch of asks so now it's pretty far down there), i'm gonna be posting again, but probably less regularly. i've been stressing myself out i think by feeling the need to post a fic every 2/3 days, otherwise i feel like shit, so i'm trying to get away from that mindset, so i hope that less fics are okay!! i love and appreciate you guys so much!! anyway, enjoy<33

warnings: none, purely fluff, no use of y/n, fem!reader, plus size!reader, race inclusive!reader

The light from the fridge casts a light across Buck’s face, harshly contrasting the dim light coming from the television as he opens the door to grab the ingredients he needs. 

“The butter needs to be room temperature,” he tells you sadly, glancing in your direction as he places the eggs and butter on the kitchen island. Your legs are dangling off the counter as you watch his every move, the cool counter pressing against the backs of your thighs in a way that makes you shiver in your sleepy state. 

It’s late; 2:30am the last time you checked, and you and Buck had the silly idea to pull an all-nighter, since you both have a few days off of work. Just like you used to do with your friends when you were kids.

“I’m sure they’ll be just as good. And, a lot better than store bought cookie dough,” you tell him with a soft laugh, rolling your eyes. 

Honestly, you’re just glad Buck has agreed to bake cookies for you this late. While you were watching a movie, the main character was making cookies, and suddenly you needed chocolate chip cookies. Like, immediately.

"Definitely better,” he says with a smirk, giving you a wink before pulling out the rest of the ingredients from the cupboards.

He helped you onto the counter before he began his work, telling you that he wanted to make them for you, and that all he needed from you was to sit there, look pretty, and keep him company. And with a face like that, how could you say no?

You watch as he measures out his dry ingredients, then mixes everything together, but he pauses every so often to give you gentle kisses, the ends of his curly hair tickling your forehead each time. When his hands aren’t somehow all sticky from the dough – you quickly learned how messy of a baker he was when you first started dating – he’d place a hand on your thigh, taking comfort in the warmth of your skin and the fact that he could feel the goosebumps under his palm. He always knows that you’re sleepy because you get cold, and your skin erupts in goosebumps.

“What do you think you’d be doing right now if we never met?” you ask quietly after a few moments of silence. He looks up at you from his bowl with furrowed brows, tilting his head to the side. 

“Is this the beginning of a breakup conversation?” he replies in a slightly teasing tone, although you can practically see the gears turning in his head as he studies your expression, and your body language, and your eyes.

Your eyes soften, and you immediately shake your head, giving him a reassuring smile as you hold your hand out. He reaches out for it, not letting it hang in the air for longer than a second or two, and lets you pull him forward until his body is positioned right between your legs, although with his hands all doughy, he opts to place his wrist under your palm.

“Baby, I have absolutely no intention of breaking up with you anytime soon. I was just thinking. How different would our lives be if we never met?” you say as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, letting your hands dangle behind his head as his lay on the counter on either side of you, making sure not to get your pajamas dirty from the dough covering his hands.

“They’d be very different. I’d be fast asleep right now, that’s for sure,” he teases with a cheeky smile. You laugh softly, rolling your eyes. It may have been your idea to pull an all-nighter, but he happily agreed that it would be fun. You didn’t even have to try to convince him.

“I’m serious,” you say with a laugh, leaning forward slightly, “I don’t know what I’d do if I never met you.” Your voice is softer now, a hint of vulnerability creeping in. You met Buck purely by chance, and you still think it’s a miracle that he took interest in you, despite him thinking the exact same thing about you.

“I’d be looking for you,” he says after a moment, shrugging as if it’s that simple. And to him, it is. 

Your eyes soften, and your head tilts to the side as your throat suddenly gets tight with your growing emotions.

“For me?” you ask in a teasing, yet slightly disbelieving tone, and he shrugs again with a nod. There’s no hint of uncertainty in his eyes.

“I’d be looking for someone who makes me happy, and who knows what I need without me even having to think to ask, and who is so beautiful that I can’t even believe that they’re with me. So, yeah, you.” You smile, feeling your face heat up. You can practically feel the love radiating from the deepest part of him and into your chest, and while your entire body suddenly feels warm, your cheeks feel like they’re on fire. Suddenly, you’re not so tired anymore.

“I’d be looking for you, too,” you reply, feeling tears prick your eyes as you lean forward and let your forehead rest against his. Buck has to keep a sliver of his mind occupied on not putting his hands on you, no matter how much he wants to feel your soft skin under his fingers. He wishes he washed his hands before coming over to you, but he wouldn’t have dared to let your hand stay raised in the air longer than a split second, just like he wouldn’t dare to part from you right now.

“Yeah?” he whispers, breathing in the faint scent of your body wash now that he’s so close. He wants to touch you so bad, and his self-restraint is wearing thin.

“Mhm. Except maybe without the snoring. I’ve never heard anyone that sleeps so loud.” You match his tone, letting out a soft laugh as he suddenly pulls his face back with a scoff, his brow raised and a smirk growing on his lips.

“Really? Because I seem to remember getting a text a few days ago saying that someone thought it was too quiet to sleep while I was at work,” he challenges, his eyes moving down to your lips for a second before moving back up to meet your gaze, the smug smirk still plastered to his face as you fight back a smile.

“I sent that in a moment of weakness,” you argue quietly, pursing your lips to stop the grin from making its way onto your face.

“Hey, come on, don’t pretend you don’t love it,” he continues, his hands now raised off of the counter and hanging in the air. They’re dangerously close to your waist; if he could touch you, he’d be tempted to tickle your sides to see that gorgeous smile grace your face, but he holds back. Instead, they just remain frozen, almost able to feel the warmth radiating from your soft body.

“I plead the fifth,” you tell him, reaching down and grabbing his wrists. You saw them out of the corner of your eye, full of dough and dangerously close to your pajama top, and the last thing you want to do is go upstairs and change.

You hold his wrists out between your bodies, and all Buck does is chuckle, rolling his eyes and murmuring a soft “brat” before leaning in and catching your lips in an intoxicating kiss. 

In the heat of the moment, you let go of Buck’s wrists, instead grabbing onto his hoodie and pulling him closer to you while your legs wrap around his waist, and he lets his hands go up to your cheeks. Neither of you notice at first, despite the sweet smell of brown sugar filling your nostrils, and he deepens the kiss, letting his lips work in tandem with yours as he savours the feel and taste of your mouth on his. 

Your noses brush against each other as you tilt your heads, and a low hum escapes Buck’s throat as his tongue meets yours when you part your lips. All you can focus on is each other as the oven beeps behind you, signalling that it’s time to put your cookies in, and Buck’s stubble scratches your face in a way that makes your head spin. You’re pretty sure the fire alarm could go off right now, and you still wouldn’t part from him.

You finally have to pull away to catch your breath, and when you do, you finally notice that your cheeks are now sticky. You giggle softly, and you can’t bring yourself to be upset with Buck about it. Not when he just kissed you like his life depended on it.

“Finish my cookies, Buckley,” you whisper after a moment of looking into each other's eyes, and then he finally pulls away from you, immediately missing the feeling of your thick thighs wrapped around him.

“Yes ma’am,” he murmurs, then dumps the chocolate chips into the mixture before mixing, humming in approval when they’re fully combined.

You take this time to wash the dough off your skin; not bothering to go upstairs to actually wash your face, rather merely using a wet paper towel over the sink to wipe off the residue. You know you’ll regret it later, but right now, you wouldn’t dream of being that far away from Buck. Not when the soft light from the tv mixes with the overhead oven light, and the soft sound coming from the credits of the movie envelopes the main floor of Buck’s loft and makes you feel so safe and calm.

When the cookies are in the oven, Buck helps raise you back up onto your spot on the counter, then makes himself at home between your legs, wrapping his arms around your plush middle and resting his head comfortably on your shoulder. You wrap your arms around his shoulders immediately, letting him melt into you as you wait for the timer. The steady feeling of his breath on your skin makes you feel even more at ease, if at all possible.

You don’t talk for those 10 minutes; you just bask in each other's presence. It’s past 3am now, you’re sure of it, but neither of you care. All you care about is how good it feels to be in Buck’s arms, and to know that you’ve found someone to bake cookies with in the middle of the night, just because you felt like it. Someone to bake cookies for you despite being so tired. Just because he loves you so deeply.

notes: likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33

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[aspenmissing]

Could you write the Arcane characters interacting with Reader's baby bump? (The male characters in a romantic way and the female characters in a platonic / best friends way)

ʙᴀʙʏ ʙᴜᴍᴘ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋ��ᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx | ᴍᴇʟ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ || 4045 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀɴᴄʏ?

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ! ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ!! < 3 <3

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx | ᴍᴇʟ

JAYCE

Jayce was in his workshop, tinkering with his latest invention, but his thoughts kept drifting back to the warmth of the apartment. Y/N had been radiating this special glow ever since they'd found out she was expecting, and he couldn't help but marvel at how life had changed for them.

He paused his work, glancing toward the door, his face softening as he caught sight of Y/N entering. She walked in with a gentle sway, her baby bump clearly visible beneath her loose-fitting blouse. Jayce smiled, completely distracted by the sight of her.

"You know," he said, his voice a little distracted as he stood from his desk, "you’re glowing even more than usual today."

Y/N chuckled, placing a hand on her belly, a look of playful disbelief crossing her face. "I think you just say that because you’re always trying to get me to smile."

"Well," Jayce took a step closer, gently resting his hand on the curve of her bump, "it's hard not to smile when you're carrying our little one." His voice dropped softly, filled with awe as his fingers lightly traced over her stomach, feeling the little movements of the baby.

Y/N leaned into him, her head resting on his chest as she looked up at him with a smile. "I still can't believe it's happening. Feels like just yesterday I was getting used to being here, and now... we’re here, together, with a baby."

Jayce’s heart swelled as he pulled her into a tender embrace, his hand still resting gently over her bump. "It feels like a dream, doesn’t it?" he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "But it’s our dream, and I couldn’t imagine sharing it with anyone else."

Y/N laughed softly, the sound of it filling the room. "I’m glad it’s you. I’m glad it’s always been you."

Jayce held her tighter, savoring the moment. His mind raced with excitement for the future, for their little family that was already so loved. As he looked down at her, he whispered, "We’re going to be amazing parents, you know."

Y/N smiled, brushing her fingers through his hair. "I know. And I’ll have you by my side through it all."

As Jayce gave her belly one more gentle rub, he couldn’t resist. "Do you think they’ll be as smart as their mom?"

Y/N raised an eyebrow playfully. "As smart? Oh, they’ll definitely have my brains... but they’ll also have your charm and wit, so it’s bound to be a good mix."

Jayce laughed, his hands still lingering on her stomach. "A perfect blend. I can't wait to meet them."

The two of them stood there for a moment, wrapped in the peace and joy of the life growing between them, knowing that whatever came next, they’d face it together.

VIKTOR

The dim light of Viktor's lab flickered softly as he worked on his latest project, the steady hum of machines in the background. Y/N sat nearby, her legs tucked under her as she rested on a plush chair. Her hand gently cradled her baby bump, a soft smile tugging at her lips as she observed Viktor. He had been focused on his work all day, but there was a soft tension in the air as his thoughts would occasionally wander to her.

He looked up from his workbench, meeting her gaze. "Are you comfortable?" he asked, his voice gentle and filled with concern.

Y/N nodded, but her smile grew wider when she saw the subtle way Viktor’s eyes lingered on her bump. She loved the way his face softened whenever he looked at her, especially now. The early months had been a whirlwind of uncertainty, but now, as the pregnancy progressed, Viktor had become a rock for her—steady, calm, and full of quiet affection.

"Are you sure you're not overworking yourself?" Y/N teased, her fingers lightly tracing the curve of her bump.

Viktor hesitated for a moment before walking over to her. His hands were warm as they cupped the sides of her stomach gently, his eyes studying her as if the simple act of touching her was an overwhelming thing. "I’m not overworking," he murmured, his voice low. "But… I do worry." He carefully placed his hand over her belly, letting his fingers rest softly against the growing life within.

Y/N chuckled softly. "I’m fine, Viktor. She’s fine, too," she added, feeling the baby shift slightly beneath her skin. She glanced down at his hand, which was resting on her bump, the moment tender and intimate.

Viktor’s expression softened, and for a brief second, his usually sharp and meticulous demeanor melted away. His eyes lit up with something indescribable, a mix of awe and tenderness as he gazed at the baby bump. He seemed to be holding his breath, waiting for any movement, like he was trying to connect to the tiny life growing inside her.

And then, it happened—a small, subtle kick. Viktor’s eyes widened, and a soft laugh escaped his lips. He placed his hand gently on the spot where the movement had come from, as if trying to reassure himself that it was real. "Did you feel that?" he whispered, his voice barely a breath, full of wonder.

Y/N nodded, her smile widening. "Yes, I did." She reached up to gently touch his cheek, her thumb tracing the line of his jaw. "I think she’s excited to meet her papa."

Viktor’s face flushed slightly at the word. His hand remained on her belly, his thumb moving in slow, careful circles as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to her forehead. "I will be ready when the time comes," he said, his voice a quiet promise. "I’ll be right here, every step of the way."

Y/N’s heart swelled with affection for him, knowing how deeply he meant every word. She leaned into him, closing her eyes and letting the moment envelop them both—together, as a family, anticipating the future they would share.

And as Viktor continued to tenderly touch her belly, Y/N couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of peace, knowing that this tiny life would be surrounded by so much love.

JAYVIK

The soft glow of the morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle warmth across the room. Y/N woke slowly, stretching out on the bed, her body cradled in the comfort of the soft sheets. Her eyes fluttered open to see Viktor beside her, his head resting gently on her shoulder, a peaceful expression on his face. His hand, warm and steady, lay across her belly—his touch so tender, it almost felt like he was holding the life within her in a protective embrace.

For a moment, Y/N simply gazed at him, the sensation of his presence calming and reassuring. She then shifted slightly, turning her head to glance at the space beside the bed. "Where's Jayce?" she murmured softly, her voice still thick with sleep, not wanting to disturb the peaceful moment.

Viktor stirred slightly at her words, his eyes blinking open, his gaze warm but sleepy. "He's probably in the workshop or the kitchen... Where else would he be?" He smiled, but Y/N's eyes were already drawn back to the movement beneath the covers.

Curious, she lifted the edge of the blanket to peek under it. There, to her surprise, was Jayce, his face buried in the side of her baby bump, his large hand gently caressing it. He looked so serene, his eyes closed, and there was a quiet hum of contentment as his fingers traced slow, soft patterns along her skin.

Y/N couldn't help but smile at the sight. The love and care the two of them showed, even in the smallest moments, made her heart swell. Viktor, now fully awake, chuckled softly as he saw the scene. "He's... always been a bit of a morning person," he said, his voice full of affection.

Y/N laughed softly, running a hand through Jayce's hair. "I think he just wanted to get as close to the baby as possible," she teased, her voice light.

Jayce, hearing her, lifted his head slightly, his face still pressed against her belly. His eyes glimmered with affection as he met her gaze. "Couldn't resist," he murmured with a grin, his hand never stopping its gentle motions on her belly.

Viktor leaned in, brushing his lips against Y/N's forehead, his voice soft and filled with warmth. "Looks like we have our own little family morning ritual."

Y/N smiled, feeling the weight of her love for both of them as they shared this intimate moment. The room felt filled with an almost magical peace—a quiet reminder that despite the chaos of the world outside, they had each other, and that was enough.

She placed a hand on Viktor's, the other resting on Jayce's head. "I love you both," she whispered softly, her heart full. The two men, in their own unique ways, both smiled, their love for her and the baby clear in their eyes.

"We love you, too," Viktor replied softly, and Jayce added, "More than anything."

As the three of them lay there, wrapped in each other's embrace, the outside world felt distant, and for that moment, they were content to simply be.

VANDER

It was a typical day in the undercity, the hustle and bustle of Zaun never stopping. But today, there was a special kind of excitement in the air, especially within the small, cozy living space above Vander’s tavern, The Last Drop.

Y/N, now a little further along in her pregnancy, was sitting comfortably in one of the worn-out chairs, her hand resting on her baby bump. She had been feeling the baby kicking for a while now, and every time it happened, she couldn’t help but smile.

Vander, who had been busy with some work around the bar downstairs, glanced over at her with a soft grin. "You look like you're getting ready to pop any day now," he teased lightly, his rough voice betraying the gentle affection he had for her. He leaned against the counter, wiping his hands on a rag, his gaze soft as he looked at her.

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the grin that tugged at the corners of her lips. “I’m not that big, Vander," she said playfully.

Vander chuckled. "Right, sure." He then turned his attention to the door, hearing the familiar sounds of footsteps and laughter. The kids—Vi, Powder, Mylo, and Claggor—had been coming around more often to check on her, always excited about the little one growing inside her.

Vi came barreling in first, the rough-and-tumble girl grinning from ear to ear. “I wanna feel the baby kick! Can I?”

Y/N laughed softly, patting her belly. "You can try."

Vi’s face lit up, and she gently placed her hands on Y/N’s bump, her eyes wide with excitement. "Whoa, I can feel it!" she exclaimed. "It’s so weird but cool!" Her expression softened, and she looked up at Y/N. “You’re gonna be such a good mom.”

Y/N’s heart melted at the sweet sentiment. She hadn’t had the chance to speak much about her plans for motherhood, but hearing Vi’s words made her feel like she was doing something right.

Powder, who had been standing at the door, looking a little shy, approached with her usual curiosity. "Me too! Can I feel?"

Vander, always protective of his "kids," knelt down to Powder’s level, a big hand on her shoulder. "It’s okay, kiddo," he said gently, giving Y/N an encouraging nod.

With a soft giggle, Powder tiptoed over and placed her small hands on Y/N’s baby bump. Her eyes widened when she felt the gentle shift. "It’s moving! I’m gonna be the best big sister ever," she announced, practically bouncing on her heels in excitement.

Mylo and Claggor entered together, following behind their friends. Mylo, always the mischievous one, grinned and raised an eyebrow at the scene. “Looks like you’re already starting a whole army, Y/N,” he teased, crossing his arms.

Claggor, quieter than the others, leaned against the wall, his usual stoic expression softened with a fond smile. “You’ll have a lot of help, that’s for sure,” he said, his voice calm but sincere.

Vander chuckled from his spot across the room, clearly enjoying the scene. He glanced over at Y/N, his expression soft. "You’ll have a whole crew to help you out," he said with a wink. "Just make sure the little one doesn’t end up causing as much trouble as Powder."

Y/N raised an eyebrow at him, her voice teasing. "You mean you didn’t cause trouble when you were younger?"

Vander chuckled, a knowing grin spreading across his face. "Maybe a little, but I’ve learned my lesson. Now I just have to pass on that wisdom."

Vi and Powder giggled at the exchange, while Mylo and Claggor shared an amused look. Y/N leaned back in her chair, basking in the comfort of the moment. The excitement of her growing family surrounded her, and with Vander by her side, she knew everything would be alright.

The kids continued to gather around, asking more questions, offering more excitement, and making Y/N’s heart swell with love. She was going to be a mother, and with Vander, Vi, Powder, Mylo, Claggor, and all of them by her side, she knew her little one would be surrounded by so much love and protection.

"Think we’ll get a little troublemaker in the mix?" Vi asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Y/N grinned, her hand gently rubbing her belly. "With you two as role models? I’m sure of it."

Vander’s booming laughter filled the room, and for a moment, all felt right in the world.

And in that moment, surrounded by the kids she’d come to love as her own and Vander’s comforting presence above The Last Drop, Y/N couldn’t help but feel that this new chapter in her life would be full of love, laughter, and the promise of new beginnings.

SILCO

Silco sat at his desk in his dimly lit office, his gaze unwavering as he reviewed the latest plans for Zaun. The ever-present hum of machinery in the background almost seemed to blend into the silence.

Then, the door creaked open, and in stepped Y/N, her baby bump now noticeably prominent as she walked toward him. She smiled softly, her face lighting up with a warmth that seemed to make the cold, grim atmosphere of the room a little more bearable.

"You look like you're deep in thought," she said, her voice gentle.

Silco looked up from his papers, his steely eyes softening when they met hers. He had been through many things in his life—power struggles, betrayal, and the dark underworld of Zaun—but nothing quite compared to the feeling that swept over him whenever he saw her. And now, with the baby bump growing, it was as though something more fragile and precious was growing inside their world.

He pushed back from his desk and stood, a rare softness in his usually sharp features. "And what brings you here?" His voice had an edge, but there was a tenderness underneath it that he reserved only for her.

Y/N placed a hand on her belly and walked closer. "I just thought you might like to feel the baby," she said, her tone teasing. "You've been so focused on work lately, you haven't gotten a chance to see how much they’re growing."

A rare flicker of uncertainty passed through Silco’s eyes. He didn’t know much about babies or pregnancy, but there was a look of fondness in his gaze when he saw how protective and glowing Y/N looked.

She gently guided his hand to her stomach, and for a moment, Silco stood still, the warmth of her body and the tiny life growing inside her bringing an unfamiliar feeling to his chest. The baby kicked softly, a small flutter that made her smile wider.

"Feel that?" she asked, her voice soft but filled with excitement.

Silco’s fingers twitched slightly as he pressed his hand more firmly against her belly, feeling the subtle movements beneath his palm. His lips parted in a small, almost imperceptible smile, the rarest of expressions crossing his usually composed face.

"It’s... strange," he murmured, his voice softer than usual. "But it’s yours. Ours."

Y/N’s smile widened, a warm, loving look passing between them. She nodded, her hand over his as she gave it a gentle squeeze. "Yes, ours."

Silco’s gaze lingered on her for a moment before he allowed himself to lean down slightly, brushing a kiss against the top of her head. "I never thought I’d be here," he said quietly, almost to himself. "Not like this."

Y/N chuckled softly, her eyes shining with affection. "Well, here we are."

"Here we are," he echoed, a rare tenderness in his voice. He couldn’t help but run his fingers across her belly again, feeling the baby move once more, as if marking the beginning of a future he had never imagined.

For a moment, Silco allowed himself to savour the peace, even if it was fleeting in a world that would never be kind to them. But for now, the only thing that mattered was the life growing between them, the one thing that he could protect with everything he had.

JINX/POWDER

Jinx bounced around excitedly, her usual chaotic energy tempered by a rare, gentle excitement. Y/N was sitting on the couch, her hand resting over her growing belly, a soft smile playing on her lips as she watched the madness of Zaun unfold through the window.

Jinx skidded to a halt in front of Y/N, her eyes immediately locking onto her friend’s baby bump. Her grin spread wider than usual, but there was a tenderness in it now, a contrast to her usual manic grin.

"Y/N! Y/N! How’s my little niece or nephew doin’ in there?" Jinx asked, bouncing on her toes as she leaned in close, eyes wide with curiosity. She’d known about the pregnancy for a while now, but it never failed to get her excited whenever she saw Y/N with her baby bump.

Y/N chuckled softly, glancing down at her belly with a soft, protective smile. "They're doing well. Growing every day," she said, her voice filled with warmth as she gently rubbed the bump.

Jinx’s face shifted into one of mock seriousness, her hands immediately cupping the sides of Y/N’s bump as if she was inspecting something fragile. "Whoa, you’re getting huge!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of awe and playful teasing. "This little one’s gonna be a big deal, huh? So important!"

She paused for a moment, eyes full of determination, before looking up at Y/N with a gaze that was almost protective. "I’m gonna be the best aunt ever! I’ll protect ‘em from all the bad stuff out there!" Jinx gestured dramatically to the world outside, her usual chaotic flair returning. "No one’s gonna mess with my little one! I’ll teach ‘em all the best stuff—like blowing stuff up!"

Y/N laughed, a warm, fond chuckle that filled the room. "You’re gonna be the best aunt, Jinx. The baby’s gonna love you."

Jinx’s grin grew wider, her chest puffing up proudly. "Of course! No one else could be as awesome as Aunt Jinx! I’ll make sure the little one has all the best toys—super explosive ones! And we’ll make a fort out of all the stuff I’ve blown up! It’ll be perfect!"

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with affection for her unpredictable friend. She knew Jinx had a complicated past, but it was moments like these that showed just how much Jinx cared—and how deeply she was capable of loving in her own wild way.

"You’ll definitely be the best aunt," Y/N agreed, rubbing her belly gently. "But for now, maybe start thinking about ways to entertain the baby when they’re older—something a little less... explosive than your usual brand of fun."

Jinx’s expression turned contemplative as she tilted her head, clearly thinking hard about that suggestion. After a moment, her eyes lit up. "Okay! I’ll tell the baby the best stories. And maybe… just maybe... I’ll make ‘em a secret stash of cookies... and dynamite. Secretly! You know, just in case they need some excitement in their life."

Y/N laughed again, shaking her head fondly. "You’re something else, Jinx. But I think that’s what makes you the best aunt."

Jinx giggled, then without warning, sat down next to Y/N and wrapped her arms around her in a surprisingly gentle hug. "You’ll be the best mom, Y/N. No one’s gonna mess with us. Right? We’re a team."

Y/N returned the hug, a swell of gratitude filling her chest for the unexpected, yet deeply loyal friendship they shared. "We’re a team, Jinx. Always."

And in that moment, surrounded by Jinx’s protectiveness and boundless enthusiasm, Y/N felt a sense of peace, knowing her baby would grow up surrounded by love—no matter how unpredictable the world around them might be.

MEL

Mel had always been the type to care deeply for others, especially those she considered family. Y/N was no different, and seeing her friend in this new light—carrying a child—brought a softness to her heart that she hadn’t expected.

She gently knocked on Y/N’s door, her voice light as she called through, “Y/N, are you awake?”

A muffled response came from inside. “Yeah, just a little tired today.”

Mel smiled, pushing the door open and peeking in to see her friend, who was sitting propped up in bed, a soft blanket tucked around her. Y/N’s baby bump was noticeably round now, a comforting sight after everything she’d been through.

“Need any help getting up?” Mel asked with a slight tilt of her head, her voice soft and warm. She was always so careful around Y/N, ever since the pregnancy had started to show.

Y/N gave her a small, grateful smile. “I can manage, but if you want to help me to the couch, I’d appreciate it.”

Mel immediately moved over, holding out her hands to help steady Y/N as she slowly rose to her feet. “Slow and steady, okay?” she said, guiding her gently to the living room.

Once they were settled, Mel made sure Y/N was comfortable before sitting beside her. She could never shake the worry that Y/N wasn’t eating enough, despite her insistence. “Did you eat today?” she asked, her voice a mix of concern and love.

Y/N sighed but nodded. “I did, just a little light lunch. But I’ll have something more later.”

Mel pursed her lips, her eyes scanning her friend's face, searching for any hint that Y/N might be pushing herself too hard. “You’ve got to take care of yourself, Y/N. The baby needs you to eat, too.” She gently placed a hand on the bump, a soft smile forming as she added, “They’re gonna need their energy to grow big and strong.”

Y/N chuckled lightly, looking down at her belly. “I’m doing my best. But you’re right. Maybe I could eat a little more.”

Mel’s smile brightened, her eyes sparkling with affection. “I’ll make you something. You rest, and I’ll take care of it.”

Y/N’s eyes softened as she leaned back against the cushions. “You’re too good to me, Mel.”

Mel shook her head, her expression warm. “I’m just looking out for you. You’re my family, and that means everything to me.”

As Mel made her way to the kitchen, Y/N watched her, a sense of deep gratitude settling in her chest. Despite everything that had happened, she was surrounded by people who cared for her and the life she was carrying, and that was something worth cherishing.

When Mel returned with a plate of food, she smiled as she set it down in front of Y/N. “I made sure it’s something you’ll enjoy.”

Y/N looked down at the plate and smiled softly, her eyes glistening with appreciation. “You really know how to take care of me.”

Mel sat beside her once again, offering a light hug. “It’s just what I do for family.”

The two of them sat together in the quiet comfort of each other’s company, the bond between them growing even stronger with every passing day.

[redflagshipwriter]

Chef Beef part 1 of 2

inspired by this post.

Part 2

Jason squinted at his laptop screen. It turned into a confused scowl. “What,” he said, “the hell are they saying?”

Perturbed, he slammed the thing shut. Whatever! He didn’t need validation from viewers. He turned to finish cleaning up his kitchen. He had scrubbed everything down on camera, but the dishes still needed to be put away and he had to shut his kitchen for the night.

His nighttime phone pinged. It wasn’t the Bat business one, at least. He hesitated. 

Fuck. It probably wasn’t important. But what if it was, though?

Jason heaved a massive, dramatic sigh. He put the mixing bowl back and then dug the phone out to check. It was just the stupid intergenerational Titans group chat. The first message flicked away before he could read it, replaced by a series of fire emojis and a…drooling face? Yuck. Superboy was a lot. 

Jason screwed his face up in disgust and dismissed the notification without reading. Tim’s grungy little friends continued to be off-putting gremlins.

Kori chimed in with a series of hearts and flexing arm emojis. 

Yeah, okay, the topic definitely wasn’t important. Goddamn social media. He just didn’t get it.

He didn’t check the video comments again until the next day, curled up in an armchair stolen from Wayne Manor. It was vigilante morning, also known as noon. He tucked his feet into the seam where the cushion met the back of the chair and took a long sip of steaming tea. Thus fortified, he typed in his password and loaded up the video he had done yesterday.

“...Huh.” He opened up his phone to do a quick search on what it meant to go live. Jason ran a hand through his hair and thought it over.

The top comments were begging him to livestream, not post after he was done. That seemed… Well, it seemed social. He pursed his lips and stalled for thinking time with more tea. Part of the reason he was doing this was to motivate himself to cook more, but putting it online, he had to admit, could only stem from a desire for some sort of attention and connection.

Ew. Jason put that bit of self reflection somewhere far away where it couldn’t hurt him, and started thinking about how to change his setup. 

“One week,” he told himself. “I’ll do that for a week and see how I feel about it.” 

Monday

12:07PM

Jason set up a laptop on the counter so he could see any comments while he streamed. 

“Not that I’ll get comments.” He wasn’t doing anything that special. Embarrassed even alone, Jason got busy setting up. Ingredients in place and oven preheated, he started the livestream. 

He waited. 

Then he felt stupid. Probably no one was going to come. So he pulled over his cutting board and held up his first ingredient. “I,” he said to no one, “am going to make the best quiche you sorry motherfuckers have ever seen.” He pointedly twirled the cutting board and glanced back at the screen just in time to see notifications that people were joining. 

“I’m making a quiche now,” Jason reiterated. “Best goddamn thing you’ll see all day, so make a note.” 

He blinked. “Can I crush the onion in my hand?” He repeated, brow furrowing at the screen. “It would be unusable, Caitlin15.” He hefted the onion. “This beautiful motherfucker needs to be diced into perfect pieces.” 

Perplexingly, that didn’t stop it. More viewers chimed in. “Uhh,” Jason said. Was this some kind of streaming social norm? “…I only have one onion. I can crush this instead?” He reached over and pulled out a carrot from the basket on the far end of the counter. 

The screen erupted in all caps. He squinted. Did it have meaning? It looked like gibberish.

“Seems like a yes.” Well. Whatever. Jason crushed the carrot to a mush in his hand, catching the end that fell. He let the mush fall into the bowl he had meant for the onion. Thoughtlessly, he snapped off a bit of the carrot with his teeth and braced a forearm on the counter in front of the camera. “You gonna behave now?” He asked the stream, making sure to level an unimpressed expression to his viewers. “Sit the fuck down and listen.”

The screen erupted with ear emojis and weird dramatic shit like, “I am seated, King. 👑” Someone purchased a … sticker? What the hell? What was the point of that?

…Alright. He picked up the carrot mash bowl and considered it. “Might be making a carrot cake or bread later,” he said. “I can’t stand waste.” He shifted it out of the way and stretched up to get a new bowl from the storage up high. When he looked back down he saw there was a flurry of “six pack alert” messages and more notifications of people buying ‘stickers.’

He wheeled around to see what they must have– behind him was a collection of bottles. They were not alcohol.

“I don’t drink!” Jason snarled. “My body is a goddamn temple. No fuckin beer here.” He leveled a finger at the screen. 

That first stream went alright. He got a lot of subscriptions off of it, which probably at least meant that some people liked it. Jason closed his laptop with the vague impression that things were going to be alright. 

He was washing up when someone knocked on the door. Jason shook his hands twice to flick off water and then dried them with the hand towel. He threw it over his shoulder on the way to open the door. “Dick.” He opened the door, one eyebrow raised. “Everything alright?”

Dick pushed his way in, wearing his beat cop uniform. He had his pretty boy smile on, but Jason saw right through that. That fucker wanted money. “Hey, Jay!” He sniffed his way to the kitchen. “I, uh, heard you have a cooking thing going on, how’s that going?” 

Hm. Alright, maybe he wanted free food, the goddamn hyena.

“How do you know this shit?” He wondered fondly. “Creep.” 

Dick grimaced and put a hand to his head. “Roy showed me.” Dick sounded like he was in pain. Fair enough. That was a reasonable reaction to Roy Harper.

Jason closed the door and watched his sort-of-brother scavenge around the apartment. “Want some quiche?” He cast his thoughts back. “Oh, I have carrot bread.”

Dick gave him a slightly harried smile. “Oh, I heard about that. Crushing the carrot made an impression.” 

Jason blinked.

They looked at each other. 

“Are you watching my streams?” Jason asked slowly. “Hey, I’ve been getting a lot of slang in the comments I don’t know.” He pulled out his phone and scrolled to the list he had compiled. “People keep commenting ATE, in all caps. But I’m not eating.”

Dick stared off into the air mournfully. “It… It means you’re doing a great job. It’s not about food.”

Jason nodded. “Noted,” he murmured to himself. “Uh, raw?” He tried to make eye contact. “People send me that, also in all caps. But obviously I am cooking my goddamn food, that is the whole premise.”

Dick screwed up his face in pain and stuffed half a roll into his mouth to avoid answering. “Buddy,” he said through a mouthful of food, “I don’t want to tell you the details. But your watchers think you’re hot. That’s the gist of it.”

Jason stared at him. “...They think I’m hot,” he echoed slowly. “I am hanging out in my pajamas and cooking. I am being sloppy and rude. I call them names,” he pointed out.

Dick’s face twitched. “Yeah, some of them are into that. But also your whole…” He gestured vaguely up and down Jason’s body. “The t-shirt and sweats work for you.” He looked like he wanted to be somewhere else. “I just wanted to check in on you, make sure you’re comfortable and safe. Having fans is kinda a lot sometimes.”

Jason snorted. “It’s not like I’m modeling like you or Kori did,” he pointed out. 

“It’s not that dissimilar.” Dick rolled his neck. “Lemme see your account?”

Jason hesitated. “Why?”

“I bet you’ve gotten sponsor messages.” 

He snorted. “Yeah right.” He handed the phone over and watched over Dick’s shoulder. “…Didn’t know there were messages on this app.” His eyebrows crawled upward. “These people want to give me money?” 

“You need a manager,” Dick said promptly. “And a moderator to crack down on the horny comments.”

Jason physically recoiled. 

“That’s what I thought,” Dick said wryly. “I can get you a mod for free. I’ll manage your account for a modest 50% of your profit.” 

“Bullshit,” said Jason, despite thinking he’d make no money. “That can’t be the going rate for a manager. Fuck you. I’m going to ask Kory what she pays her manager.” He snatched back his phone and DMd her his question. “And why would anyone mod for free?” 

“A loser would do it,” said Dick. “And I know just the motivated loser. Anyway, how would you feel about doing a separate livestream where you eat?” He stuffed quiche in his mouth and talked around it. “Lonely people like that, they pretend they’re having a meal together. It’s a public service, Jaybird.” 

“Who on this goddamn earth would want to pretend they were eating with me?” Jason wondered. 

Dick eyed him. “Who indeed.” He sniffed. “I’ll do it for 30%, if you are gonna be so cold about it. I’m not in it for the money, I’m your brother,” he wheedled. 

“Your shitty cop job doesn’t pay for your lunches,” Jason said flatly. “Go get money from Bruce.” 

“Never.” Dick shoved the last of the quiche in his mouth so violently he actually choked. “Gotta go. I have your passwords now, I’ll set up sponsorships and pay out your stickers.” 

“Pay out what?” Jason asked, bemused. 

“My break is 30 minutes,” Dick hollered over his shoulder. “Gotta get back to 3rd in the next 4 seconds.”

“…You are a mess.” Jason watched Dick whirlwind out of his apartment less than five minutes after entering to steal his food and money he didn’t even know he had. “You’re gonna be at least ten minutes late.” 

“It’s fine, I’m ungovernable.” His footsteps thumped rapidly down the apartment stairs. A car tire screeched outside. A police siren started up and rapidly faded. 

Jason sighed. “Dinner with lonely people, huh?” He eyed his apartment. “I guess I could set up the table there…”

Tuesday 

12:51PM

“Good morning,” Jason greeted the camera. “Yeah,  yeah, it’s one pm. I just got up, so sue me.” He took a pointed sip of his morning drink. It was coffee this time. “I,” he said pointedly, “had a long night. And I need some comfort. So we are starting the day with cinnamon rolls.” He gestured to his oven. “I already have the first batch cooked and cooled, so you can see me ice it and eat.” He rolled his shoulders. “First, this bowl is going to be for my wet ingredients-” He blinked. “I don’t need a new bowl. I- why do you hate this bowl?” He tilted it, perplexed. “Do you all— okay, look, I’ll show you all my bowls and you will acknowledge the superiority of this particular bowl for this task.” Shaking his head, he extended up as far as he could reach to get the rest of the bowls down.

“...I still do not drink,” Jason scowled. He felt confused and vaguely uncomfortable. “Stop saying that, I don’t like it.” 

The chat listened, so whatever. He whipped up this batch of cinnamon rolls, set it to proof, and then got out his finished rolls to show the screen. “We need to make the frosting for these, but I am excited.” He let his voice rasp. “It’s gonna be way more than I can eat, but…” He shrugged. “Hey, meat? Why are you sending meat emojis– I can do you a good meaty dish tomorrow. Roast?” He brainstormed. “Steak, maybe, oh hell yeah, HawaiiHunk,  I could use some meat in me too,” he agreed. “Tomorrow, yup, you and me.” 

He cleared his throat and set out his supplies. “But first, let’s get that frosting.”

20 minutes later, once he had licked the frosting off his spoon, Jason showed a single perfect roll to the camera. “I’m going to sign off and have my breakfast now,” he said. Someone called GOATman said, “good job, it looks delicious.” He flashed them a smile.

“And then I guess I gotta find someone to shovel off my spare rolls to. Wish me luck.” He turned the stream off without checking what they were actually saying.

Wednesday

5:00 am

“Jason.” 

He stifled a shriek. “You’re an asshole.” Jason swore. He threw the shower curtain aside violently to glare at Tim. “I’m getting ready for bed, you little shit. You still follow my patrols?”

Tim stared at him with big, resentful eyes. There were bruises under both of them. “I heard you made cinnamon rolls. Heard a lot about that. Something about a carrot, too.”

“...Yeah.” Jason frowned at him. What a weird thing to say. “Did you get a concussion?”

“Put your clothes on,” Tim groused. He pushed himself off the counter and sauntered out of the room, as if he wasn’t the weirdo who had snuck into Jason’s home after patrol, followed him into the bathroom, and waited there.

Jason pulled on a t-shirt and shorts and made his way out to see Tim’s baleful stare. “What,” he said gently, “the fuck?” He made a shoo gesture. “I didn’t say I was open to strays.”

“Should I tell Kon that he isn’t getting any of your cinnamon rolls or quiche?” Tim said waspishly.

Jason reeled a bit. Kon? Leather jacket Superboy? The hell did he have to do with anything?

There was a more salient point to address.

‘Why does he know what I’ve been cooking?’

Jason pointed at him. “You’re creeping on me again. Do you have an alert set for anytime I send a text?” He sneered. “And yeah, I am not cooking for you or your friends. Besides, the quiche is gone.”

Tim let out a violent huff. “I wish I heard less about you.” He waved a hand. “But, yeah, Kon can give up any hope?”

“What,” said Jason, “the Hell are you talking about?” He frowned. “Hope for what? Does he wanna learn to cook or something?” 

He momentarily considered that. Kon was a C list celebrity. That was exactly the type of guy you might invite as a guest to your livestream.

Tim eyed him. Jason stared back. “Nothing.” Tim rolled his eyes. “To be very clear, you would never for a moment consider Kon as-”

“I never think about the guy,” Jason cut him off. “He’s a nice guy, does good work. But you’re being so fuckin weird. Take the plate of cinnamon rolls over there and get the fuck out of my house.”

Once Tim had been shoved out the door, Jason went to bed. He woke up again at 1 in the afternoon and started to set up for his next live stream.

That was a lie.

He intended to wake up at 1. Instead, he sat up from a dead sleep at 10:32 am when Dick banged on his door, dragging along his dumb cop partner and an armful of shitty coffees.

“I hate you,” Jason croaked. He wiped the protein from his eyes and snatched a drink.

“Everyone does,” commented the other cop.

Dick snorted a laugh, but both of them looked at her. “Why are you here, pig?” Jason asked pointedly.

She sniffled. “Oink, oink,” she said pointedly, and stole a cinnamon roll off the counter. “Because prettyboy is taking a break from ending the corruption of the Bludhaven cops in order to benefit from the corruption of the Bludhaven cops by selling access to his shitty little brother online.” She peeled the cinnamon roll open.

Dick pointed at her. “Amy, you said you’d be nice to me.”

She took a very large bite of her cinnamon roll and flipped him off with a smile.

“...Fair enough,” Jason said, and turned his tired glare at his shitty elder brother. “Why are you even up this early, I swear you were up as late as I was.” 

Dick hefted his ass onto Jason’s clean countertop and ignored the strangled sound he made. “I have an intricate system of micro naps at traffic stops and unimportant meetings. I can get by on as little as two hours of sleep at night.”

“What happens if you miss one?” Jason asked, darkly curious.

“His whole life falls apart,” Amy said, talking with cinnamon roll in her mouth still. Jason gave her a disgusted look. 

Dick waved that off. “Anyway, did you see that Kory messaged you? She wants to do a collab.” His brilliant smile faltered for a millisecond. “That would get views.” He smiled winsomely.

“...This hurts you,” Jason observed, reluctantly fascinated. “Why are you doing this? You don’t want me to hang out with your ex-fiance.” He cocked his head to the side. “Have you considered telling her that you want her back?”

“I never look back,” Dick lied breezily. “How about Raven? She’s open to a cooking video. Or.” He looked pained. “Kon. He has been messaging. A lot. He’s watching your streams.” 

“...This does seem more Kon’s speed,” said Jason, thinking of all the times he had seen that motherfucker scarf down chilidogs or nachos on camera. “Kind of below Kory, honestly. Raven?” His voice tilted upward in disbelief. “She’s your friend, not mine. Why don’t you do some kind of stream with your friends?” Jason shrugged. “If you like it, I mean.”

“I’m done modeling,” Dick said. “The body shaming really got to me.” He ran a hand up his perfect body and gave a little shrug. 

“That also why you’re done with a career as a world-class athlete?” Amy asked wryly. “Your career trajectory is the garbage can. I know why I’m giving parking tickets for 12 dollars an hour, but it’s just insulting that you’re here. Take your shitty Dad’s money.”

“Never,” Dick vowed. “So, collab with Raven? Great! She’ll be here tomorrow at noon.”

“I will kill you!” Jason shouted, but it was no use. The fucker was already halfway out the door.

Amy toasted him with the remainder of the cinnamon roll. “I’ve been making him buy us all donuts with what he’s making from your streams,” she told him.

Jason thought that over. “I guess you’re alright for a pig.”

She saluted him on her way out.

He managed to get a little more sleep before his stream. “I might have a guest tomorrow,” he told his viewers idly as he set up. “Feel free to guess who. My shitty manager is setting it up.”

Some of the world’s worst guesses rolled down the screen– Amanda Waller, President Luthor, Nightwing. 

Jason accidentally laughed. “No, uh, none of them.” He snickered. “Think younger.” He blinked. “No, probably not you, HawaiiHunk, you goddamn flirt,” Jason shook his head. “You better watch your ass, I think I have a mod today.”

Someone sent the salute emoji. “That you?” Jason squinted. “GOATman– greatest of all time man?” He snickered. “Everyone is on notice.”

The guy was vicious. The first time HawaiiHunk commented “ur sooo sexi babe,” he got a warning. 

A while later the mod said, “This is your final warning.” Jason looked up to see what the poor thirsty idiot had said. He snorted involuntarily when he saw that HawaiiHunk apparently wanted to be the dough. He wanted to see where this was going. 

“Ignore himmmmm,” said Sparklefairy. She somehow sent an explosion of glitter over his stream. Dollar emojis scattered. 

Jason raised an eyebrow and put some muscle into the bread he was kneading. 

‘Are some of them trying to buy my attention?’ he wondered, bemused. ‘Should I tell them I’m an independently wealthy criminal? I feel like I’m tricking them.’

HawaiiHunk typed up, “I’m so wet.” 

Jason stuck his tongue out and then shuddered dramatically. “That’s not my business, I don’t need to know that.” 

“That’s it,” said GOATman, a fantastic mod. “Blocked.” The official notification appeared a moment later.

“Goodbye, HawaiiHunk.” Jason saluted with a laugh. “And let that be a warning to the rest of you.”

GOATman sent the salute emoji and was immediately copied by others in a flood. Jason had to laugh.

That night, before patrol, Jason sat with a frown, scrolling through his comment section. He barely noticed when Spoiler sat her ass down beside him and started doing her inventory check. He did notice when she leaned into his space to see what he was looking at. 

“Dude, what the hell?”

Jason shrugged. “I don’t know. Look at this weird shit people are saying.” He tilted his phone screen. “Raw,” he repeated, disbelievingly. “Raw. My meat is not raw.” 

Stephanie choked on air.  

“I cook all my meat– I cooked it to 65C.” Jason gestured pointedly. 

“What, uh… Are you streaming?” Stephanie looked at him with wild eyes. “So, uh, these are fans?”

He looked at her. “Does it mean something?”

“...Yeah,” she said, after a suspiciously long pause. “It’s slang. They like you.”

“So it’s not about my meat?” Jason clarified.

“It is kind of about your meat.” Stephanie swallowed, hard. “I, uh– I think that we should… We should go. On patrol.” She pushed herself off the ledge and did a flip. “Time to hit the streets.” She flashed him a pretty, toothy smile, and then was gone.

Jason was not an idiot. Stephanie was avoiding telling him something embarrassing. 

Whatever. There was something off about it. He had caught that on his own, even if he didn’t know what. Maybe they were mocking him. The concept sent a sick feeling through his gut. But– she wasn’t a liar. It was overall positive, whatever it was. 

“It’s gonna be some pop culture shit I missed.” He grimaced. He wasn’t that old, but he felt old as balls sometimes. “I don’t need to be cool.” 

That affirmation hanging in the air, he blew out his bangs and then scraped them back so they wouldn’t plaster to his forehead with sweat when he went on patrol. He zipped his jacket closed and swung a leg over his motorcycle. Time to go.

[mylovesstuffs]

OT13 reacting to their s/o giving birth

Request: Hello!! Can I request a Seventeen OT13 fluff/crack/comfort reaction to reader giving birth? Like for each member the member and reader react differently? Like reader having a hard time with wonwoo’s child because of his wide shoulders, Vernon being unfazed as usual as his wife screams at him, reader having no tolerance for pain and is panicking so Mingyu panics too, etc

A/N: I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting, anon. This took much longer than I expected. I actually finished writing it yesterday, but my draft got deleted, and I was so frustrated that I nearly cried. I had been working on this for a week while juggling other writing projects and a busy, stressful schedule. Instead of breaking down and giving up, I sat down and rewrote everything from memory. Since it was my second time writing it, I at least had a clearer idea of what I wanted to do. I knew that if I didn’t finish it now, it would end up delayed for another week or more, and I didn’t want that. Also, I pushed other queued requests back to finally get this one out since it should've been out earlier but I wasn't done with it. I really hope I did justice to your request! Thank you for your patience 💓

Seungcheol: To me it feels like his leader instincts kicking in like it’s a group comeback 😭 You’re physically drained and can barely push anymore, so Seungcheol will be holding your hand tightly, his voice steadying you: “Just one more, baby, you’ve got this. We’ll meet our little one soon.” On the inside, he’s panicking but doesn’t let it show because he knows you need his strength, "Breathe, babe, breathe!” Wait, should I breathe too?! Once the baby is born, he’s in tears, holding your hand like, “You did so well. I’m so proud of you.” and kissing your forehead. Then proceeds to take the title of Best Dad very seriously.

Jeonghan: “This is YOUR fault!” you scream at him as another wave of pain hits, and Jeonghan, instead of being offended, just grins cheekily, “I know, I know. But look at me—I’m right here. You’re doing amazing.” He is unfazed and mischievous, even while you're snapping at him but don't get me wrong. He's like, "It’s okay, just a little more!” while secretly panicking and muttering, How does one raise a tiny human? He just doesn't want to look panicked in front of you and scare you. When the baby arrives, he jokes, “Wow, this kid’s already prettier than me. Must’ve gotten it from me.” Yes, he's like that—but in a moment of seriousness, he looks at you with so much love, “You were incredible.”

Joshua: You’re crying softly, scared and overwhelmed, and Joshua immediately cups your face gently, “I know it’s hard, but you’re so strong. You can do this. I’ll be here the whole time.” He's very soft and attentive, the perfect mix of calm and emotional. He never leaves your side, murmuring prayers under his breath. Holds your hand and whispers comforting words the whole time, “You’re amazing, you’ve got this.” When the baby cries for the first time, he literally cries too, “This is the best day of my life.” He lets out a laugh of pure relief and joy as his face says, This is our miracle. He insists on singing the baby a lullaby immediately. Sunday morning rain is falling in form of lullaby

Jun: Wait, I think I need to sit down—oh no, wait, you’re the one doing all the work! Chaotic but sweet, Jun is trying his best to be strong for you, but his emotions are all over the place. You’re gripping his hand tightly, shaking your head, “I can’t do it, Jun. I really can’t!” his heart clenches at your words but he then immediately leans in, his eyes wide but sincere, “You’re already doing it. Look at me. One more push, and we’ll meet our baby.” The sheer trust and love in his gaze give you the last bit of strength you need. After the birth, he’s SO emotional, holding them like the most delicate thing in the world in complete awe with wide eyes, “Wow… they’re so small. Are you sure they’re ours?” He traces a careful finger along the baby’s tiny hand, his eyes softening even more. “They’re perfect… just like you.” His lips press a lingering, grateful kiss to your forehead before pulling back, his eyes shimmering. “I love you. Both of you.”

Hoshi: He's excited and maybe a little too energetic. Freaks out every time you make a noise, “IS IT TIME?!” even if you’re just asking for water. During birth, I feel like, his s/o will be yelling from the pain and accidentally yell at him too lol. “STOP TALKING, SOONYOUNG!” you shout during a particularly painful contraction, and he freezes, wide-eyed. “Okay, I’m sorry! I’ll be quiet—but I’m still here!” When the baby is born, he’s crying harder than you are, clutching your hand, “WE DID IT! I mean, you did it! I’M A PAPA TIGER! Look at our little cub!” while also jumping up and down yelling.

Wonwoo: Wonwoo is the reliable rock you need. You’re biting your lip, trying not to scream, and he notices your trembling. He leans closer, his voice soft, “It’s okay to let it out. I’m here for you, always.” He stays by your side, holding your hand, his thumb gently rubbing the back of it to soothe you. Every now and then, he murmurs, “You’re doing so well,” his voice laced with admiration and respect for his beloved. When the baby is finally born, he doesn’t say much at first—just stares in awe, holding them close with a small, amazed smile. After a long pause, he finally whispers, “So this is what pure happiness feels like.” Theb he looks at you, eyes full of love, and promises, “I’ll be the best dad. For both of you.”

Woozi: Stressed but trying not to show it. Internally writing 15 songs about his emotions while saying, “Do you need anything? Water? Ice? A new husband?” all while trying his best to keep his emotions in check for your sake but low-key failing. “It hurts so much!” you cry, and Jihoon, though visibly worried and internally panicking, keeps rubbing your back, “I know, love, I know. Just a little more, and it’ll be over. You’re stronger than you think.” Once it’s over, he’s stunned silent, staring at the tiny life in his hands in awe, whispering, “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to write anything more beautiful than this.” Then he looks at you, his voice soft: “You’re incredible.”

Dokyeom: Your overly enthusiastic cheerleader is trying his best. But when you let out a scream, “AUGH!” Seokmin yelps even louder, “ARE YOU OKAY?!” despite knowing full well that you’re not. He’s gripping your hand so tightly—probably too tightly and almost crying with you. “YOU’RE DOING GREAT. I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!” Then, mid-contraction, he suddenly panics, “Wait, do you hate me right now? I think you do.” You glare at him between deep breaths, and he flinches, “Okay! No talking! Got it!” When the baby is finally here, Seokmin completely loses it, his happy sobs are the loudest in the room. “We did it! Well, mostly you, but we did it!” He’s melting, practically sliding to the floor as he holds the baby, overwhelmed by joy. Someone has to hold him up before he turns into a puddle of emotions.

Mingyu: He’s the definition of chaos with a side of tears. “Why is it taking so long?!” you cry out, exhausted and frustrated, and Mingyu, who has been pacing non-stop—pauses for a second before nervously responding, “I don’t know, but I’m here! We’ll get through this together, I promise.” He’s trying so hard to be helpful, but his clumsy ass is in full force. “Do you need water, baby? A towel? Oh no, I dropped the towel! Wait, where’s the doctor—should I call someone?!” The moment the baby arrives, Mingyu’s emotions explode, he’s full-on sobbing, barely able to form words. “You’re amazing! Our baby is amazing!” He cradles the tiny newborn like the most precious thing in the world, holding on so tight that the nurses have to coax him into letting them check the baby. “No! They’re so tiny! So perfect! I’m NOT letting them go.” spoiler: he doesn't. they have the check the baby from his hold.

Minghao: Zen but emotional deep down. He’s by your side, reminding you to breathe like a yoga instructor, “Inhale, exhale, you’ve got this.” But you are still exhausted and losing focus during labor, “I can’t do it,” you mumble weakly, and Minghao immediately takes your hand, his calm voice grounding you: “Yes, you can. Focus on me. Deep breaths. You’re stronger than you know.” After the baby’s born, he holds them with the gentlest hands, his eyes full of tears. “You did so well,” he whispers, brushing hair out of your sweaty face. “This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever experienced.” His face is all smiley with streaks of dry tears down his cheeks as he kisses your nose, “This is the start of a masterpiece. You’re amazing, my love. I love you”

Seungkwan: The most emotional and slightly dramatic of them all. “Are you okay? Is the baby okay? Am I okay?!” He’s running on pure nerves. The situation escalates quickly when you reach the peak of labor, and it’s similar to Hoshi’s. “STOP TALKING, KWAN!” you snap, breathless from the pain. He gasps dramatically, clutching his chest, “I’m just worried! But okay, okay, I’ll shut up!” He’s jittery, constantly checking on you, the doctors, and the monitors, whispering prayers under his breath. The moment the baby is born, all his anxiety vanishes, replaced by unfiltered joy. He holds the baby, bawling his eyes out, voice shaking as he says, “This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Then, looking at you with pure adoration, he sniffles, “I’m going to spoil them so much.”

Vernon: Surprisingly calm but mostly because he’s in shock. You’re gripping the bed rails so hard your knuckles turn white, trying not to scream, and Vernon, who notices how much you’re struggling, leans down, holding your hand. “You’re doing so great,” he says. “We’re so close, babe. Just a little more.” He doesn’t say much else, just keeps his grip firm, standing by your side like an unshakable pillar until you give birth while internally thinking, This is wild. When the baby is born, he stares at them for a long moment before finally saying, “Wow… we made this. That’s crazy.” But then, as he holds the baby, his normally neutral expression softens into something breathtaking. His heart eyes are fully showing— completely smitten, both with the baby and with you.

Dino: Our Dino is flustered but super supportive. “Do you need me to do anything? Tell me what to do—I’ll do it!” He’s hovering, heart racing, watching you struggle through the pain, and it’s breaking him. When you sob, “I can’t do it, Chan!” he nearly panics himself, but he quickly shakes his head and crouches beside you, rubbing your back. “Yes, you can,” he says firmly, “You’re the strongest person I know. Just a little more, I’m right here!” The second the baby arrives, his stress vanishes, replaced by pure joy. His grin is so wide it almost hurts. “I’m officially a dad! We’re parents now, love! Can you believe it?” He holds the baby with so much pride and tenderness, already making promises. “I’m going to be the fun parent. You’re going to have the coolest childhood ever, little one.” and holds their pinky.

[lipglossanon]

Star In My Eyes

Best friend!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

A Little More Savory tier commission from @porcelainseashore 💜 💜 thank you!! 😭

Word Count: 2658 🫣

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, bf!leon, next door neighbor!leon, pining, lots of feels happening, Leon POV, jealousy, possessiveness, “just friends” 🤭, kissing, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie

proofread ✍️

↺ ◁◁͏͏ ll ▷▷ ⋮≡

Things have settled back into their regular routine. Leon hasn’t brought up that illicit window scene—even if it has lived rent free in his head since—and you definitely haven’t brought it up. He kind of wishes you would; he wants to know if it meant anything or really was just the one-off it seems to be. But, you’re his best friend, the girl next door he’s had in his corner from the beginning. He’d be stupid to mess that up. 

Meeting you for lunch isn’t anything new; it’s literally a muscle memory for him to walk over to the campus cafeteria and meet up with you for a bite to eat. Today, he catches you already seated at a table and waves to you. You smile brightly and wave back before pointing at the seat across from you. A warm, fluttery feeling trills in his stomach like a songbird. Queuing in line to grab something from the menu, he can’t help but think that ever since that afternoon, Leon hasn’t been out on any dates. 

And he’s not upset about it either. You’ve been spending your free time with him too—talking about buying a new controller interface to produce better mixes for your beats. It all flies over his head, but you light up like the Fourth of July when chatting about it, and Leon’s happy enough to bask in that glow. 

After paying for his food, he’s so lost in his thoughts, he doesn’t even realize someone has occupied the seat next to you until he’s sitting down across from you. 

The guy has the audacity to smile at Leon. “Hey, man.”

“Hey.” 

He flicks his eyes from this interloper over to you. You’re not even paying attention to Leon; your body’s angled towards this stranger with a smile on your face.

“Don’t lose my number now,” the guy winks. 

Does he think that lame-ass pickup line will work? Leon scoffs mentally, but his eyes cut back to you, and you’re still smiling at that guy. There’s no way you would give that loser the time of day—right?

“Uh huh, I’ll think about it.” You wave him off with a laugh, and the idiot finally leaves. 

Leon’s blood pressure skyrockets. That asshole gave you his number, and you took it? You don’t even know this guy; he could be a total douchebag. 

“Who was that?” He pins you in place with his stare. 

You shrug, like Leon’s not losing his mind right now.

“Some guy. I think we have a class together,” you pause before shaking your head. “Either way, he wanted to see if I was free this weekend.”

“For what?”

You laugh, “What do you think? He asked me out on a date.”

Leon’s stomach clenches uncomfortably. “And?”

“And I told him I had plans.” Your brows raise in concern. “Are you okay? I told you yesterday that I had to run some errands for my dad on Saturday, and we’re hanging on Sunday.”

He forces his shoulders to relax. “Yeah, I just thought—never mind. You coming over today?”

You smile, confusion hovering over your features. “Of course. You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Things were not fine. He enjoys the rest of lunch with you, talking about classes and upcoming assignments, but in the back of his mind, he can’t stop thinking about how casually that guy hit on you. How you just sat there, smiling, instead of telling him to piss off. Leon’s literally sitting right in front of you—your best friend—so there’s no need for some loser to come barging in.

After splitting up for different classes, Leon’s thoughts run in a constant loop. He gets why that guy hit on you; the why isn’t the issue. He just hates that you even entertained that Neanderthal. How many times have you complained to him about a terrible date? Countless times. Leon can’t even remember all the horrible details of each one—only that once it’s all said and done, you come to him for comfort.

And after all, why not? He’s your shoulder to cry on, the one person who’s been by you through thick and thin. Which, of course, goes both ways, but he can’t help but feel protective of you. You’re too sweet and trusting; a prime example being that dickweed at lunch. Leon is so in his thoughts that he doesn’t even take notes for any of his lectures, just sitting in his seat for each one and thinking about you. 

How often does that kind of thing happen? Especially when he’s not even around. How many guys have hit on you, and you’ve never thought to even mention it to him? Glaring at random guys he sees around campus, Leon stews in his emotions—possessive jealousy and frustration coursing through him and sending his thoughts on a downward spiral.

By the time Leon leaves campus, he’s decided on a new course of action. He’s really going to show you he’s the only one for you. Running through ideas on the drive home, he thinks back on all the things he’s done that had you acting overly affectionate toward him.  It’s guaranteed to happen when he helps you out with something—like the last time he changed the oil in your car without asking him to or fixing your old radio.

Not seeing your car parked out by your house, Leon decides to just hang around the garage, maybe tinker with some little projects he’s got on the side. You brought over a busted speaker the other day, and since he has the free time, he might as well work on it. Plus, it’ll help with his plans as well as take his mind off of things.

Losing track of time, he doesn’t lift his head away from his workbench until you’re clearing your throat behind him. 

“Whatcha working on?”

He stands and stretches, rubbing his neck to work a kink out. “Think your speaker is almost fixed up. Wanna solder a few things before testing it.”

“Oh nice! Thanks, Leon!” You smile, peering around him to look at the mess on the tabletop. “That saves me so much money, you don’t even know. You’re the best.”

Pride suffuses his chest, your praise lighting up his brain.

“Eh, just glad to help.”

Leon watches you walk over to the couch and relax onto the cushions. After stretching a bit more, he walks over and rolls the garage door shut before joining you. He sinks down into the soft material, legs splayed out in front of him. Drumming his fingers on his thighs, his eyes shooting over to the pack of smokes on his workbench.

“You should cut back,” you tease, kicking your shoes off and tucking your feet under his thigh.

“I don’t even smoke that much.” He rolls his eyes, a grin tugging at his lips. “Besides, you’re not my boss.”

“You’re right. I’d fire you for insubordination.” You tease, and he shakes his head with a chuckle.

Lapsing into silence, Leon’s thoughts circle back to earlier at lunch. It can’t hurt anything to feel you out, see what you really think about that guy.

“You gonna call that dude who gave you his number?” His fingertips tap a nonsensical beat on the top of your foot.

You wiggle your toes against his thigh. “Eh, I don’t think so. Honestly, it’s been so long since I’ve even been on a date I’ve probably forgotten how,” you laugh. 

Leon doesn’t know what possesses him, but he blurts out the first thought that crosses his mind. 

“We could practice.”

He doesn’t know why he says it; it was just a word vomit moment. There’s no way—

“S-sure,” you look away shyly. “Just a friend helping a friend, right?”

He nods so fast his fringe moves with the motion. “Right! Nothing weird about wanting to help out a friend. And we’re best friends, so it only makes sense for me to help you.”

You finally look back over at him, plush bottom lip tucked between your teeth. Leon wants to sink his own teeth into that lip.

“Okay. Um, so where do we start?” You straighten up in your seat and smooth your hands down your shirt.

“Well, what’s making you nervous?” His own heart races in anticipation.

“Well, if things lead to more, I’m not sure what I’d do,” you pull your feet away to move closer to him.

“Yeah?” Arousal pools hot and fast in his gut. “Want me to take the lead?”

“Please,” you murmur, eyes drifting to his lips. Your hand reaches up to brush his fringe from his eyes. 

“It’s just helping out a friend.” The words are quiet, like you’re trying to convince yourself. Leon, not wanting to lose this chance, rubs his palms down your sides. 

“Of course.” He nods, helping you straddle his lap, brain buzzing with so many thoughts it’s all noise. “It’s just practice.”

“Uh-huh,” your eyes droop, sinking your weight against him, hands resting on his chest. “Just pretend.”

“Okay,” he murmurs, bringing one hand up to cup the back of your neck. 

He pulls you down as he tilts his head, slotting your mouths together like puzzle pieces. His cock stiffens in his jeans when you gasp and melt against his body. Your kisses are soft and hesitant—your mouth parting immediately when Leon swipes his tongue across the seam of your lips.

It’s easy to get lost in this slow, sensual makeout. Leon’s hands grip onto your hips, thumbs pressing right into your hip bones. Your fingers are tangled in his hair, making his cock twitch every time your nails scratch against his scalp. He’s so lucky that you trust him with something like this—that you’re willing to be this vulnerable with him. 

His feelings are all over the place, but the one thing that definitely stands out is the bone-deep satisfaction in knowing you're all his, at least for now. You rock your hips down against his bulge, and he groans against your mouth.

“It’s been a while since I’ve done anything like this.” You pull away, lips kiss swollen and dilated gaze locked onto his. 

His fingers encircle your wrists where your hands rest on his chest, keeping his eyes on yours. “Oh?”

“Mm hmm,” you offer him a fond smile, his favorite kind; it reaches your eyes and makes them soft. 

He drops kisses to your jaw, the apples of your cheeks, then your parted lips. A surge of want so heady it makes him dizzy has him kissing you deeply.

So that’s how one thing leads to another—hot, sloppy kisses to dirtily grinding your damp, panty-clad cunt against the bulge in his briefs—and now you’re both naked, with Leon pressing you down into the couch cushions while he drags his cock across your sensitive clit.

“We’re best friends, right?” He murmurs, taking your hands in his and pressing them above your head.

You nod, eyes glassy. “Of course, Leon. Best friends.”

He rubs his thumb over the pulse point in your wrist before reaching one hand down to grip the base of his dick. Slapping his cock down onto your wet cunt, he notches the tip at your drippy hole. His heartbeat’s in his throat. 

“This okay?”

Whining, you cant your hips toward him. “Yes, please, wanna feel you.”

Groaning from deep in his chest, Leon rocks forward, sinking inch by inch into your snug cunt. He hopes to god he can hold out. You feel way too good. His eyes slip shut, and he pants heavily, one hand gripping your hip while the other still grips your wrists. 

“Fucking hell,” he grunts, finally opening his eyes to stare down at you. “Such a tight cunt.”

He watches your lashes flutter as your pussy grips his cock like a vice. He groans, pulling out to fuck back in just as deep. Letting go of your wrists, he slides his other hand down across your body, groping your breasts before gripping your hip.

“God, you showing me these gorgeous tits the other night—can’t stop thinkin’ about ‘em,” he dips his head down and bites at your stiff peaks, tongue swiping across each hard nipple. “Teasing me in the window like that? Got me so hard.”

Your cunt squeezes down on his cock, and he groans.

“Leon,” your hands move to grab onto his broad shoulders, making his muscles flex under your hands. “Fuck, your mouth feels so good.”

“Yeah?” He grunts, pulling out halfway before rutting his cock back inside your snug pussy, his fingers digging into the fat of your hips.

“Your soft wet pussy feels good, too,” he whispers against the shell of your ear. “Your pretty perfect pussy, and it’s all mine.”

“All yours,” you whine, hole pulsing and sucking his cock in further.

You gasp out, lips brushing against his, “Have you ever felt this good with anyone else?” 

“No, never. You’re so good, so good for me,” he pants, mouthing and biting at your breasts.

He raises up, grabbing for your hands until he can lace your fingers together, pressing your clasped hands down against the couch cushions. Now, Leon’s face to face with you, watching the pleasure twist your features erotically. 

“You drive me crazy,” he tells you, voice gentle even as his hips thrust roughly against yours. “Just wanna keep you all to myself.”

“Leon,” you whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I feel the same way.”

He presses your lips together, licking into your mouth with a moan. He can’t get enough of the way you taste, sucking on your tongue greedily. Thrusting faster, his cock pounds into your sopping wet cunt harder and harder—the sound of skin slapping together sounding loud in the garage. Letting go of your hand, he slips his fingers between your bodies and begins strumming against your puffy clit. 

It’s like a live wire runs through your body, muscles tightening and twitching while your pussy walls flutter around his cock.

“Gonna cum,” you whimper against his lips, and he kisses you heatedly, swallowing your moans and whines to keep stowed away for when he’s alone in the dark of the night. 

“Do it,” he murmurs, pulling back until he can lock eyes with you. “Cum for me, show me how good you feel, baby.”

Whining, your head arches back, legs clamping down around his waist as you cry out softly. Leon can feel the difference; your pussy milking his cock with your inner muscles until he’s groaning and burying himself balls deep. Belatedly he realizes he’s cumming inside you raw, a hot spike of arousal driving him to rut deeper into your cunt, hot ropes of cum spurting thick and sticky inside your hole.

Giving you a few minutes until your legs drop away from his body, Leon eases out of your pussy, eyes glued to your puffy cunt as you leak his cum onto the ugly green cushions. You stretch and raise up with a moan, reaching for your clothes strewn in the back of the couch. 

Dressing quietly, Leon’s unsure what to do or say next. A line was crossed, whether or not either of you admits it out loud, and he only hopes you’re both crossing over into the same direction. 

“Shit!”

Leon’s pulled from his musings at your urgent tone. 

“I told mom I’d stop by the store on my way home and totally forgot. Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. 

Tossing on your jacket, you stand up, patting your pockets until you find your keys. 

“Talk later, okay?” You drop a quick kiss onto Leon’s lips before walking over to the garage door and rolling it open enough to slip under. 

You shoot him a smile and a little wink before letting the door drop closed. Leon sits there dumbfounded, brain oddly quiet as he processes what just happened. Maybe you’re both more on the same page than he thought. 

[the-offside-rule]

Max Verstappen (Red Bull Racing) - Forever Your Big Brother

Requested: yes

Prompt: Y/n Verstappen is feeling a little left out now that both her older siblings will now have kids and she lashes out a bit

Warnings: arguing

The Verstappen family was gathered in Max’s luxurious Monaco apartment, the view of the sparkling Mediterranean sea gleaming through the expansive windows. Max, his girlfriend Kelly, his younger sister Y/n, and their father Jos were all seated together, enjoying the rare moment of family togetherness. "Alright." Max began, clearing his throat and holding Kelly’s hand tightly. "We have something to tell you all." Y/n perked up, intrigued by her brother's unusual seriousness.

Kelly smiled warmly, her hand resting on her stomach. "We’re having a baby." Jos grinned broadly. "That’s amazing news! Congratulations!" Victoria, who had joined the gathering with her own children in tow, clapped her hands and leaned forward. "Another Verstappen baby on the way! That’s wonderful!"

The room filled with congratulations and cheers, everyone seemed thrilled. Everyone except Y/n, who sat stiffly on the sofa, her smile forced and her hands gripping her knees. "Y/n, you okay?" Max asked, his sharp gaze catching her hesitance. She stood abruptly. "I... I need some air." Without another word, she walked out onto the balcony, leaving a stunned silence behind.

Later that evening, as Kelly rested on the couch, Max paced the living room, running a hand through his hair. "I don’t understand. Why is she acting like this? I thought she’d be happy for us." Kelly, calm as ever, sipped her tea and watched him with an arched brow. "She already apologized to me." Max froze mid-step. "What? When?"

"This afternoon, when you were on the phone with the team. She said she was sorry for how she reacted." Max frowned. "Then why did she act like that in the first place?" Kelly shrugged. "Maybe you should ask her instead of rambling to me."

The next day, Max found Y/n in her small Monaco apartment, curled up on the couch with a blanket and a book. She looked up when he knocked on the doorframe. "Hey." He said softly, stepping inside. "Hi." She shifted uncomfortably, avoiding his gaze. Max sat down beside her, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity. "Kelly said you apologized to her." Y/n nodded. "Yeah, I did. I was out of line yesterday."

"Then tell me what’s going on?" Max urged. "Why weren’t you happy about the baby?" Y/n sighed, pulling the blanket tighter around her shoulders. "It’s not that I’m not happy for you, Max. I am. It’s just-" She trailed off, biting her lip. "I'm scared." She admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Victoria has her kids, and now you’re having a baby. It feels like everyone’s moving on with their lives, and I’m getting left behind. You and I used to be so close, Max, but now… I’m scared you won’t have time for me anymore."

Max’s heart softened as he listened. He reached out, pulling her into a tight hug. "Y/n, that’s ridiculous. You’re my little sister, and nothing is going to change that. I’ll always have time for you, no matter what."

"But you’ll be busy with the baby." She murmured against his chest. "Sure, I’ll be busy, but that doesn’t mean I’ll forget about you." Max reassured her. "You’re important to me, Y/n. Always." She sniffled, smiling faintly. "Thanks, Max."

"Anytime." He ruffled her hair affectionately.

Later in the year

The Verstappen family gathered once more, this time for Christmas in Monaco. The apartment was filled with laughter, the scent of baked goods, and the joyful chaos of children running around. Y/n sat on the floor, playing with her nephew and niece, her face glowing with happiness. Max watched from the couch, a smirk tugging at his lips. He walked over and plopped down beside her.

"You know-" He teased. "You spend so much time with the kids these days, I’m starting to think you don’t have time for me anymore." Y/n looked up, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "Oh, come on, Max. You’re just jealous they like me more than you." Max laughed, shaking his head. "Never. But seriously, I’m glad you’re here. It wouldn’t be Christmas without you."

Y/n smiled, her heart full. "Thanks, Max. And for the record, you’ll always be my big brother—no matter how many kids you have." Max wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close. "And you’ll always be my little sister. No one’s ever taking your place."

[janeyseymour]

All To Myself

requested by @schemmentisbaby

Summary: Your little girl is getting ready to go to Abbott- not that your wife's coworkers know.

WC: ~3.6k

Melissa Schemmenti, second grade teacher at Abbott Elementary, your wife, and mother to your beautiful little girl: Grace Marie. Melissa Schemmenti, a woman who rarely talks about herself, so all that her coworkers know about her is that she’s married- and even then, she wishes they didn’t know that. It’s not that she has anything to hide or like she’s ashamed of you, but after growing up the way that she did, she’s learned that keeping her mouth shut about personal information is probably for the best. The fact that people know she’s a Schemmenti holds enough weight as it is.

Your wife has been able to keep it quiet that she has a little girl due to the fact that while she is present on Facebook, and so are you, there are very few people that she has on there. The only people that she’s so graciously allowed to friend her on that social media app are you, her family (yes, Kristen Marie included), and one Mrs. Barbara Howard. Those that are present on your social media aren’t aware of the weight that your last name now holds, having grown up just outside of Philly in the suburbs. So when you post images or updates on how your life is going, it doesn’t much matter, and Melissa doesn’t mind.

The second grade teacher has been relatively successful at keeping the personal and professional lives from mixing. That is going to change though, because Gracie is getting ready to head into kindergarten at none other than Willard R. Abbott Elementary School.

“Hun,” you sigh to your wife quietly as the two of you begin to grasp the fact that Grace is going to be attending your wife’s workplace.

“I just didn’t think it was going to be happening so soon,” Melissa mumbles. “I mean, it’s like she was born yesterday, and now she’s getting ready to enter kindergarten.”

“You’re telling me,” you chuckle. “I feel like we were hearing her heartbeat for the first time, and now we’re getting ready to send our baby to school.”

“Jesus, we’re gettin’ old.”

As it turns out, Grace is more than excited to be heading to school- she’s so excited to see the place where her mother works, and she can’t wait to be a big kid. And luck just so has it that your daughter is placed in her Aunt Barbie’s class.

“I get to be with Aunt Barbie all day?!” Grace squeals out with excitement when you tell her who her kindergarten teacher is.

You can’t help but chuckle at how precious she is. “You do, but at school she’s Mrs. Howard, yeah?”

Your little girl nods her head with enthusiasm. “When do I get to go?”

“School starts in two weeks, but Mommy goes in next week,” Melissa tells your little girl at the dinner table. “And on that Wednesday, they have a special night for kindergarteners to meet their teachers and get familiar with the school.”

“I can’t wait for school!”

“Oh, but I can,” your wife grumbles so that only you can hear her.

The day before Melissa goes back to Abbott for professional development days, she’s a bit more moody than usual. Because of this, your little girl spends most of the day with you. The redhead is stressed beyond belief trying to ensure that she has everything packed into her car to take to the school for the new year. She’s focusing on meal prepping so she can just grab things and go. Her outfit for whatever reason is stressing her out more than it usually would.

“Honey,” you mumble as she stands in your closet staring at all of her shirts. You wrap your arms around her waist and set your chin on her shoulder before kissing her neck gently. She hums as she leans into your affections.

“What has you so worked up tonight?” you prod gently. “Usually you don’t care what you wear to work.”

“I just… these are the last few days where my coworkers will see me as just Melissa, not Grace’s mother,” she admits. “Reminds me I’m gettin’ older.”

“We are getting older,” you remind her. “But that just means that we’re one step closer to retirement, to having a beautiful daughter to take care of us, more years of love under our belt.”

Your wife sighs softly and cranes her neck to look at you. “How do you always know what to say to help calm me down?”

“We’ve been married for years,” you chuckle. “Practice.”

The next morning, Grace cannot for the life of her understand why she doesn’t get to go with Melissa to her new school. She’s gotten herself dressed and ready, adorned with the backpack that is just about the size of her, and her new sparkly shoes.

“Mi amore,” your wife sighs as she kneels down to pull your daughter into a hug. “Mommy has to go do boring things at the school. Trust me when I tell you, you would rather stay with Momma and play at home for these last few days.”

“But I want you!” your little girl pouts. “I want Aunt Barbie!”

“And you’ll get me tonight,” Melissa tries to placate. “And I will talk to Aunt Barbie and see if she can come over today after work to play for a little bit, how does that sound?”

That seems to satisfy your daughter who comes bouncing over to you. She curls into your arms as your wife makes her way out the door.

At work, the redhead is happy to see her work wife, but she isn’t necessarily thrilled to be back at work for the school year.

“I saw Gracie’s name on my list for this year,” Barbara whispers to her friend when she’s certain no one else can hear.

“She’s real excited to have you as her kindergarten teacher,” Melissa chuckles softly. “She’s asking for you already. I told her I would see if you could come over after work today.”

“She’ll be sick of me by the end of this year,” the kindergarten teacher laughs.

Green eyes are rolled. “I doubt that. I’m fairly certain my kid loves you more than she loves me or Y/N.”

“You know your little girl has the most love for her mothers,” Barb smirks. “And then of course for Aunt Barbie. I’ll be there.”

“And I’m going to need every hand on deck for kindergarten orientation on Wednesday,” Ava announces. “This is the biggest class to come through Abbott since the 90s.”

“No can do,” Melissa states in front of everyone. “Have business I need to take care of, and it ain’t like you’re payin’ me.” She shoots her boss a look that dares her to challenge.

The principal quirks her lips to the side before rolling her eyes and sighing loudly. “Every hand on deck except for Red Hot.”

After the workday is done, the kindergarten and second grade teachers make their way back to your house. You and your little girl are sitting in the living room reading a book when you hear the front door open and close. All thoughts of the game are abandoned when Gracie jumps to her feet and goes to the door as fast as her little legs will take her. She launches herself at Melissa, who catches her with ease. Then she’s throwing herself at Barbara, who has just barely kneeled down to embrace her.

“How’s my baby girl?” Barbara asks as she kisses your daughter’s head.

Your little girl soaks up the attention. “Good! I want to go to school though.”

“Well, that comes next week, but I’m sure Mommy’s told you about how you’ll get to come see my classroom in a few days.” When Grace nods with excitement, Barbara continues. “And I know at home I’m Aunt Barbie, but at school I have to be Mrs. Howard. Think you can remember that for me, baby?”

“Pinky swears,” your daughter holds out her pinky with a grin.

“That’s my girl,” the kindergarten teacher smiles as she links pinkies with your little girl. “Now, what are we going to do today?”

Come Wednesday, after a long day of professional development in the morning and prepping for open house on Thursday, Melissa comes home to you and your excitable daughter.

“Mommy!” Grace goes running over to the front door, abandoning her station to help you prepare dinner.

“Mi amore,” your wife sighs happily as she lifts your daughter to her hip. “My beautiful girl.”

Grace giggles incessantly as the teacher pecks her cheeks continuously. Then your wife is making her way over to you.

“My gorgeous wife,” she whispers as she kisses you softly. “You’re the best.”

“I’m making your favorite,” you tell her quietly as you lean in to kiss her again.

Grace makes a face at your affections. “Ew, moms. Stop kissin’!”

The two of you roll your eyes in a playful manner. “You know I just love your momma so much,” Melissa laughs that low laugh that you find irresistible. She kisses you again.

“Are you ready to go see Aunt Barbie and your new school?” the redhead asks gently as she sets your daughter back down on the chair you have pulled up to the counter.

“Mrs. Howard,” Grace corrects with a toothy smile as she picks up the spoon to begin mixing the salad again.

Melissa rolls her eyes and pokes your daughter in the belly. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

After dinner, your family makes their way down to Abbott. Grace clings to your hand the entire time. At the thought of going to a new school, she was excited. But now that the time is upon her, she’s nervous.

“It’ll all be okay, Gracie girl,” Melissa promises. “You know Mommy wouldn’t work here or let you go here if it wasn’t a good place to be.”

That seems to settle your daughter’s nerves just slightly, but she still remains close to you.

You and Grace walk in and head right to the little check in, knowing immediately where to go. Barbara just smiles and checks off your daughter’s name before greeting your wife who is trailing a few paces behind.

“Melissa!” you hear the boisterous voice of the principal of the school. “You said you wasn’t coming!”

Your wife just rolls her eyes and shrugs. “What can I say?”

The incoming class of kindergarteners are ushered into the gym for a quick presentation of teachers that they might come across throughout the school year. Of course, Barbara is up on the stage with all of the kindergarten teachers, but so is your wife and the rest of her work crew, as well as some other staff members that she rarely mentions.

Once that’s over with, they begin to move the children down to the classrooms that they’ll be spending most of their time in for the year. Grace takes your hand gently and guides you towards the correct line.

Abbott is a special school, you can see that just by walking through the halls. It’s filled with artwork from students, there are several plaques with various award titles on them, the teachers who are helping to guide students around are warm. Aside from the odd lingering smell, you can understand why Melissa works here and has worked here for years. 

Your wife lingers in the room under the guise of just helping out her work wife- it makes sense to the rest of the staff that she would go with Barbara. Grace finds her desk with ease, knowing all of the letters in her name. She squeals with happiness when she sees the few little goodies that Mrs. Howard left on the students’ desks.

“Momma,” your little girl tugs on your shirt. “Sit with me?”

You oblige her request with a smile, settling in her chair before pulling her on top of you. Grace brightens and gives your wife a thumbs up before beginning to color the princess page Barbara had placed there. You can’t help but press a soft kiss to your girl’s temple before looking up at your wife with a smile. She’s absolutely precious. Melissa tries to hide the fact that she was sneaking a picture of the two of you, but it’s no use. Her cheeks tint just slightly red before shrugging her shoulders with a bashful smile.

The rest of your daughter’s class settles in and is allowed to color for a few moments while Barbara and Melissa chat with parents- no doubt answering questions that will surely be answered within the next few minutes.

Your wife’s boss makes her way into the classroom, and she eyes the redhead warily before teasing her. “I shoulda known you’d find your way into Barb’s classroom.”

“Well, she is-”

“I don’ care,” Ava states. She turns to scan the room, and her eyes immediately land on you. She winks.

You have to fight to roll your eyes. It’s funny that she chose you to focus in on, but it will be even funnier when she realizes that she just hit on her shadiest teacher’s wife.

Before the principal can say anything too out of line, Barbara claps her hands together and begins her spiel about herself as a teacher, the classroom that the students will be in, and the school itself.

Grace seems more than content to sit in your lap and color quietly while Melissa nods along to the things that her work wife is saying. She knows it all already, but it’s nice hearing what will be expected of your little girl while she’s in Barb’s classroom.

“And now, while the parents are filling out the paperwork necessary for the beginning of the school year, I figured I might take the students on a walking tour of the areas in the school that they’ll be in,” the kindergarten teacher explains with a clap of her hands. “So, we’re going to practice lining up and walking in the hallways like big kindergarteners.”

She manages to line up the entire class quietly before walking them out the door with Melissa. You sigh and begin to quietly fill out the paperwork for your little girl. It’s a while before you hear footsteps come back into the room, just as you’re getting ready to write down Melissa’s name under the second guardian spot. When you look up, you expect to see Barbara, your wife, and the students in tow. Instead, it’s Ava again, and she’s looking directly at you- you can practically feel her eyes on you.

“Does anybody have any questions about Abbott?” the principal asks.

A few hands go up, but she blatantly ignores them. She points to you. “What about you, angel face?”

Your brow goes up. “I think I’m all good, but thank you.”

“Surely you can’t know everything there is to know about this school,” Ava frowns. “You have to have at least one question.”

“Not that I can think of,” you tell her. If you do think of a question, you doubt she’ll know the answer to it anyway.

“Is that little girl of yours your first one to go through Abbott?”

You nod. “But I know all about this school.”

“Oh?” Ava smirks. “You did your research?”

Instead of telling her that your wife is Melissa, you just nod. Sure, you had done your research and asked your wife about the building, but you know the ins and outs of this school- the things that go on behind the scenes. 

You think that’s the end of the conversation and start to write “Mrs.”, but she makes her way further into the room, and she stands over you sitting at a student desk.

“Where’s the wife?” Ava asks you as she leans against the desk. She drapes a gentle hand over your wrist. “Because I know someone as fine as you has one.”

You look up to her with a smirk before beginning to write down Melissa’s name.

Almost comically, the principal gasps and her hands fly to her mouth. She stands straight up. “You ain’t telling me Melissa is your wife, are you?!”

With impeccable timing, Melissa walks back into the classroom with Barbara and the kindergarteners. 

“I am,” is all your wife states as she folds her arms over her chest and stares down her boss. “Why? You got something to-”

“Bye, y’all,” Ava runs out of the classroom as quickly as she had come in.

Barbara just looks to you with the silent question of if the principal was flirting with you, and you nod subtly.

Your wife sees red for a split second before she makes her way over to you with your daughter and wraps her arm around the top of your shoulders.

“Idiot,” Melissa grumbles as she plants a kiss to the top of your head. “Flirting with my wife like that.”

You reach up a hand and lay yours gently over hers. “She didn��t know because you didn’t tell her.”

“‘Cause she has no business knowin’ about my personal life,” your wife mutters.

“She will now,” you remind her. “Grace is goin’ here now, and you know that Ava’s gonna open her mouth about it the first chance she gets.”

“Which will be once everyone is out of the school, and we somehow get corralled into helping break everything,” Melissa rolls her eyes.

It’s a bit of time before Ava makes the announcement that all families should head out of the building to allow the teachers to get home for the night. But when you think that Melissa is going to try to book it out of there as quickly as possible, she begins to help her work wife straighten up her classroom.

You know that the two of them are quite close, but it is something else to see them working together in silence. It’s like how you and Melissa work- in sync, with ease, naturally.

And then the rest of the group begins to come in, asking questions before they even fully enter the room to see you and your little girl sitting quietly on the carpet reading a book together. Okay, you’re reading, but Grace is touching each word as you read.

You pause your reading as the boisterous group comes in. Their eyes immediately go to you, and they halt their questioning.

“I’m sorry,” a shorter woman, who you can only assume is Janine, speaks quietly. “I didn’t realize you still had a student in the room.”

“They’re fine,” Melissa cuts in before anyone else can say anything. “They’re with me.”

Gregory furrows his brow. “Why would they-”

“Melissa Schemmenti, when the hell was you goin’ to tell us you have a daughter that was going to come to Abbott?!” the principal yells as she struts in. “And that your wife was fine as-” She cuts herself off at the challenging look green eyes give her.

“They’re with me because that’s my wife and my daughter,” the redhead points to the two of you. “Gracie, come say hi to Mommy’s friends.”

Your little girl jumps out of your lap and runs over to your wife, who lifts her onto her hip with ease. “I’m Gracie, and I’m five!” she holds out an entire hand for emphasis. Her smile is enough to melt their hearts.

“Oh, Mel Mel, she’s so cute,” Jacob grins as he high fives your daughter.

“Mi amore,” Melissa jerks her head for you to come over.

“Y/N,” you smile that charming smile of yours as you wrap an arm around the Melissa. “Mrs. Schemmenti, if you will.”

“How the hell didn’t we know about this now?” Mr. Johnson wrinkles his nose. “That’s a load of bull… trash.”

Emerald eyes are rolled. “Because the boss don’t look at the rosters to know who’s comin’ in.”

“I did!”

“Did you?” Janine narrows her eyes as she looks to the principal. 

Ava looks offended. “So what if I did or did not? Overseeing an entire school is hard! It ain’t my fault Melissa never told us she had a daughter!”

“You didn’t tell them about me?” Grace frowns, and she looks a bit wounded by that knowledge.

“Mommy just wanted you all to herself,” your wife promises as she dots a few kisses along your daughter’s hairline.

That seems to placate your daughter, who snuggles right back up to the redhead before yawning. “Aunt Barbie is my teacher.”

“She is,” you chuckle as you smooth down a few of her wild locks. “But at school she’s Mrs. Howard, remember?”

“Mrs. Howard is my teacher,” your little girl yawns out.

“I think it’s about time we head home,” Melissa chuckles softly. She looks to you. “Are you about ready t’head out?”

You nod and grab your purse from where Grace will be sitting next Monday. “Well, it was really nice to finally meet you all,” you chuckle out. “I know she’s in good hands here at Abbott.”

The group seems to have more questions for the redhead that is quickly escorting you out, but she ignores them and ushers you out.

Just as you’re leaving, Ava shouts down the hallway, “Girl, don’t think we ain’t talkin’ ‘bout how youse are milfs tomorrow!”

There’s a loud chorus of “Ava!” that can be heard right after. You have to hide the smile. You’re already well aware that your wife is hot.

“Momma?” Grace looks to you with curious eyes.

“Yeah baby?” you ask.

“What’s a milf?”

“Ava is dead tomorrow,” your wife grumbles.

“You love your boss, and your coworkers,” you remind her.

Melissa sighs heavily. “They’re freakin’ lucky.”

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights  @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch @babytakeittothehead

[yaboisbullshit]

Can you imagine Telemachus going to wake up his mom the day after his dad gets home?

The sun rose later than normal so that was already weird enough, but oh well, the sea was fucked up the other day so maybe this shit just HAPPENS when his dad’s around.

Athena showed up while he was waking and was like “Surprise I’m back ignore the fucked up look I got going on that we didn’t address the other day, how are you after yesterday’s slaughter?” And he has no clue how to respond to that.

So he just walks to his mom’s room-his PARENT’S room and is about to knock on the door when he hears a high pitched moan and thinks “Oh shit are they-? I never needed to hear my mom make that sound”

And then he hears that noise again but it’s mixed with a strained “Penelope” and all of a sudden he knows that the moan from two seconds ago was his dad who just murdered 100 or so people yesterday, and now he sounds like he’s being fucked within an inch of his life, and he doesn’t know how he feels about that.

Not only did Telemachus gain a dad, and not have to worry about the suitors anymore, but he also (against his will) found out his dad is a bottom.

[writtenbymoonflower]

Hi! Can I please request a poly!Marauders x reader where the reader has a secret admirer? The reader is receiving anonymous gifts and letters, making the boys anxious and jealous. If not, it's okay! Thank you, author-san!

omg i love this! thank you so much, baby, hope this is okay! gn!reader x poly!marauders

cw: jealousy and possessiveness, borderline harassment and stalking, hickey

1.1k words

You groaned loudly when you opened the front door only to be greeted by yet another bouquet of flowers. You begrudgingly brought the arrangement into the house, setting it on the countertop. 

"Again? That’s like the third this week, and it’s only Wednesday." Sirius said, exasperated and (almost) as annoyed as you. 

"Fifth, actually." You hated that you were complaining, you knew you were technically very lucky to receive all these gifts, it was just distressing. And to be frank, getting very old.

"Christ, this person is thirsty." Sirius’ voice was strained, clearly more anxious than he was wanting to let on. 

"At least it seems they don’t have much of a chance, anyone worth their salt knows that you hate roses, angel." James said, between mouthfuls of his sandwich. 

"I know," You cringed. "Who should I give these to this time? Lily has enough flowers to open a shop" You rolled your eyes. "Speaking of," You reached into your work bag and pulled out two boxes. "There were chocolates at my work when I got there yesterday, and a pair of earrings on monday." You walked over to where Remus and Sirius were cuddled on the couch. 

“Geez, dove. Are we gonna have to step up our game?” Remus said, voice tinged with jealousy. 

"No, this person needs to step down. Or at least give me a return address or something. All the notes say is ‘from someone who appreciates you, xx.’ It’s actually kind of distressing." You handed the smaller box of earrings to Sirius, "Are these your style, honey?" 

"What? You don’t want them?" He sounded surprised. Of course you didn’t! Why would you need presents from a random person when you have three boys who give you all the love you could ever need? (and in the way you like it)

"No, I would feel weird wearing them." You cringed, handing the larger box to Remus. "You can have these, I don’t even like cherry chocolate." Remus took the box like it was filled with poison, a disgusted tilt to his lips, just as Sirius dramatically dropped the jewelry box onto the coffee table. 

"I don’t know whose grubby paws have been on this box." He sneered. You rolled your eyes at his dramatics, looking over to James who was still in the kitchen. He had set his sandwich down and was looking like a kicked puppy. It made your heart crack.

"Jamie, what’s wrong baby? Come here." You beckoned him over. He rushed to your side, placing his hand protectively on your shoulder and gripping you tight. You looked at your other two boyfriends, Remus’ jaw was clenched tight and Srius was still looking at the box and scowling. 

"I jus’ don’t like it." James said from your side, his voice was small like a child's. 

"Wait, hold on," You said, "Are you all actually worried about this?"

"Define ‘worried’ lovely," Remus said, his voice an awful mix of venomous and depressed. “I don’t think any of us like knowing there’s someone out there fighting for your affections.” His eyes had an angry glint to them. 

“Guys,” You said, your heart only breaking further. “You have nothing to be worried about, okay?” James’ grip tightened on you. “There is absolutely no competition here, I’m not even giving these the time of day. I don’t want anything to do with the gifts or the person sending them.” 

“But you would if we weren’t in the picture.” Sirius said quietly, all too insecure for your liking. You wormed your way out of James’ grasp, resulting in a whine being pulled from his throat, to crouch in front of Sirius. You grabbed his pretty face in your hands, looking into his sad eyes. 

“No, I wouldn’t. I’m not impressed by these gifts.” You took a deep breath, not wanting to confess the next part and worry your boyfriends worse. “They actually kind of scare me.” You admitted, making all their eyes snap to you. 

“Scared? Of what, darlin’?” James piped up. 

“I just,” You cringed. “I don’t like knowing that there is someone this obsessed with me and I don’t know who they are. And that they know where I live and where I work. I mean, who knows how much they know?” 

“Well now I feel like an arse.” Sirius grabbed you from the floor and hauled you onto the couch with him and Remus, wrapping himself tightly around you. “Here I was thinking this person was gonna get you away from us, not knowing they were worrying you.” 

“You’re not, I promise!” You reassured. “Honestly, if there was someone doing all this for you three I would be really jealous too.” You placed a hand on two of your boyfriends’ thighs, looking over at James, who was still sulking, now sitting on the coffee table in front of you. “But I can assure you, even if I found out who this person was, they, and no one else, would be able to take me from you three. You aren’t getting rid of me that easy. Besides, I don’t like stalkers.” You joked. 

Remus pulled you closer to him, gentle but still much more aggressive than usual. Your other two boyfriends had settled, but he was still heated. 

“Remmy,” You turned to face him. “I promise, you have nothing to worry about.” 

“I know,” He grunted, burying his face into your neck. You wanted to shrink at the ticklish feeling but you allowed him to stay there, knowing he needed it. Remus had a jealous streak, perhaps the most of all your boyfriends. James and Sirius were more subtle in their protectiveness, but Remus started marking you all like a wolf anytime someone let their gaze linger too long. You buried your fingers in his hair and scratched his scalp, trying to relax him. 

“As soon as I find out who this is I will get them to stop, I promise.” You said vehemently. You looked guiltily at all your boyfriends, “I’m sorry this is happening, it isn’t fair to you all.” 

“It’s not your fault, dolly.” Sirius placed his hand on your back. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, you aren’t asking for this.” You were about to hug him, but Remus held fast around your waist, you started to protest, but you felt Remus’ lips latch to a spot on your neck, nibbling and sucking hard enough to sting, but not hurt. The sound you let out was half giggle and half moan.

“Christ, Moons!” James barked, “You trying to brand them or something?” The three of you started giggling like children. Remus released your skin from his teeth, observing the red and purple splotch that was left in his wake. 

“Gotta make sure they know what’s mine.” He said, possessively. “Don’t worry," His eyes glinted furiously at your two other boyfriends, "you two are next.” 

[videovamptramp]

i’m right over here, why can’t you see me? (2)

// when ellie’s reaction to you and abby hooking up isn’t quite what you expected, she leads you right into abby’s open arms. //

[warnings: jealousy, pining, angst, slight arguing, angry!ellie, illusions to one-sided feelings, simp!abby, fuckgirl!ellie, sexual implications]

xxxxxxxxx

this is pt.2 (pt.1 can be found here)

abby was always taught to be the bigger person. her father consistently reminded her that no matter how people treat her, she should always be the bigger person. that’s most of the reason why she’s so reserved and non-confrontational. when she first started university, she knew she didn’t quite fit in. unlike a vast majority of students around here, she wasn’t here for the “college” experience. she was just here to play soccer and get her degree in engineering. she also noticed you from the first day of freshman year, but she was way too shy to say hi to you. abby’s never really been good at flirting or starting conversation with new people. she often feels too awkward, or too intimidated to say anything.

manny took a liking to her right away; the school got his rooming situation mixed up, and that’s how he ended up being abby’s roommate. it was strange at first for her; she was wary about having a guy as a roommate. but she quickly learned manny was a cool guy. he was funny, and hung up pictures of him and his dad right away. abby could relate, as she was very close to her dad as well.

manny slowly seemed to get abby out of her shell, and would invite her to various functions and parties. but he quickly learned if it didn’t have anything to do with soccer, abby wasn’t really interested. even the girls who threw themselves at the dark haired blonde, would get shot down without abby even realizing she was rejecting them. you were ironically the first person abby found herself interested in. hell, after the party yesterday, abby was almost certain she was enthralled by you.

after walking you back to your dorm, you gave abby your number and hugged her tightly. abby walked all the way back to her shared room with a dorky grin on her face. she could still smell your girly perfume, and all she could think about was your pretty smile. a part of her wondered if you’d cave and call ellie, but when you texted her after she had gotten out of the shower, she knew you didn’t.

y/n (1:34 a.m): i can’t wait to see how she reacts tomorrow, thanks for helping me haha

y/n (1:35 a.m): and thank you for keeping me company tonight, i really liked getting to know you abby 🖤

the smile that tugged at her lips after reading your message was nearly unrecognizable. as she walked out of the bathroom with her eyes and thumbs on her phone screen, manny raises a brow in slight suspicion at the peculiar sight.

abby (1:42 a.m): i really liked getting to know you too, i hope we can get to know each other better :) i was serious about teaching you how to ride a horse lol

“that’s a face i’ve never seen before.” manny states observingly, causing abby to look away from her phone, over at her roommate who was flashing her an intrigued smile. a blush coats her freckled covered cheeks as she thinks about you and your smile. “you remember that girl from my women’s history class? y/n?” abby reminds her best friend, who throws his head back and lets out a bark of a laugh. “abby you jugadora (player)! i knew you’d get laid eventually.” he taunts causing the jock to roll her eyes. “i didn’t ‘get laid’, gross ass. i finally said more than five words to her. i got her number too.” abby smirks, and mischief glints in manny’s eyes. “so nora dragging you to that party was a good thing then?” he half taunts and abby’s phone chimes, signaling that you’ve texted her again; her face gets hot, and manny chuckles.

y/n (1:44 a.m): i’ll be waiting for you to set something up when we’re not tipsy then ;)

abby (1:46a.m): i don’t think you’ll be waiting for very long <3 goodnigjt y/n, sleep tight

y/n (1:47 a.m): goodnight abby 🖤

when you wake up the next morning, your head is throbbing, and thoughts of last night begin to flood your mind. suddenly you remember all about abby’s plan to make ellie jealous. you reach over for your phone and see you have a string of missed calls, and five texts from ellie. your heart thumps as you open the text thread with the brunette.

ellie (2:20 a.m): you home??

ellie (6:34 a.m): why didn’t you call me last night?

ellie (6:35 a.m): did you make it back to your room safely??

ellie (9:35 a.m): you going to class today?

ellie (11:47 a.m) did you really hookup with anderson last night? it’s all that nora chick and her friend are talking about rn.

your cheeks heat up as you read the last message; word certainly seems to move fast around here. before you can even think about a response to ellie’s various messages, your gaze wanders to the time. your eyes widen as you gasp, realizing you slept nearly half the day away; it was already 2:30 p.m and nobody except for abby knew you were alive. you scurry off your bed, and just as your about to grab your clothes and stuff to shower, dina comes barging into your shared dorm. “dude, is it true!? did you hookup with the captain of the soccer team last night!?” dina sounds excited, and your cheeks turn a dark shade of pink, causing her to gasp.

“you did! holy shit, y/n… i didn’t think you had it in you.” she comments, sounding a bit impressed. “what? you didn’t think i had enough rizz to pull abby anderson?” you question half jokingly, causing the raven haired girl to laugh loudly. “oh no, i’m well aware you can pull whoever you want, i just didn’t think you’d move on from ellie so fast! i didn’t even come home last night, i spent the night listening to ellie rant about you and abby hunky anderson.” dina teases you mercilessly, doing nothing to ease the way your face is burning.

the raven haired girls eyes then widen, shining with pure amusement. “did you two do it in here? on your bed!?” she cackles before whistling, “who are you?” dina asks half jokingly as she begins to walk over to her side of the room, reaching for her biology textbook. “you’re leaving again?” you ask out loud, and dina nods, turning her head and flashing you a roguish smile. “yup, i’m studying with jesse till five.” she admits, and you raise your brows, offering her a disbelieving expression. “studying or fucking?” you ask her, poking fun at the slightly taller girl. she rolls her eyes, but looks away from you in order to keep you from seeing the way her face changes in color. “unlike you, i am considerate of jesse’s roommate. we wait until he’s at work.” dina’s response causes you to laugh, shaking your head in amusement.

“whatever. i’m going to shower, and change into pajamas. maybe i’ll make myself a cup soup and watch reruns of buffy all evening.” you tell her, and dina snorts. “maybe you could call anderson to join you. i’m sure she’ll be up for round two.” dina’s voice is sardonic but dripping with lightheartedness. “who says we didn’t already have round two?” you inquire challengingly, causing dina to gasp as she reaches for a pillow on her bed, tossing it right at you. you laugh loudly, as you make your way towards the door with your pajamas and toothbrush in hands. right as you open the door to rush out, you come face to face with ellie who had been debating with herself on whether to knock or not.

her eyebrows meet her hairline as she sees you, your mascara from last night a mess, and your hairs a mess. there’s a wave of hot, red anger that surges throughout the brunette as she realizes you’ve been so busy with abby anderson, you haven’t been able to answer any of her messages, or even been able to wash your face. her eyes flicker over to your bed that’s a mess, and suddenly unwanted images of abby fucking you on your bed flood her mind.

“it’s nice to see you’re alive.” ellie grumbles a bit dramatically as she pushes her way into the room, causing dina to turn around and look at you. “you knew i was okay. i was with abby.” you respond, and the mere mention of the other girl seems to set ellie off. “no i didn’t know that y/n! i don’t know a fucking thing about abby! she could’ve been a weirdo who only wanted to take advantage of you—” you cut ellie off before she can say something stupid, “but she wasn’t! abby and i are both two consenting adults who hooked up, just like everyone else around here!” you snap a bit harshly, and the words feel like a slap to the face for ellie. “so the rumors are true? you and anderson hooked up last night?” ellie’s voice sounds hurt, and you can’t even recognize the expression that’s etched onto her features.

“uh, jesse’s waiting for me, so i’ll let you guys talk.” dina declares a bit awkwardly, she can feel the tension in the room, but she decides to stay out of it and walk away. before she walks out, the raven haired girl flashes you a look of reassurance. when she shuts the door behind her, you and ellie are left alone. you shake your head, “why do you sound so angry about it? you hookup with girls all the time!” you counterpoint, and ellie shakes her head. “but i never ditch you to do it!” she hisses, while you respond with an eye roll. “yes you do! ellie, you ditched me last night for angela! you do it at every party with different girls, but the one time i do it, it’s a problem?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

“i was worried about you! i don’t care about your meaningless, shitty hookup with anderson.” ellie spits rudely, and you let out an angry laugh of disbelief. “shitty? why do you think i was asleep all day? it was amazing.” you nearly grimace as you realize you sound like you’re trying too hard to convince ellie. “besides, abby already asked me on a date. she wants to go horseback riding.” you lie right through your teeth, and ellie lets out a chuckle. “yeah? that sounds like complete bullshit.” she calls you on your bluff, and you raise a brow, “what sounds like bullshit? that someone could actually want something more than a hookup with me?” you ask challengingly, causing ellie’s annoyed expression to falter. “no, y/n, that’s not what i meant…” she trails off, her voice lowering slightly.

“then what did you mean? because to me it sounds like you think all abby or anyone could ever want me for is a hookup.” you reply dryly, but ellie can detect the slight hurt in your tone. she shakes her head again, “no that isn’t— it’s not you! it’s abby! girls like her aren’t actually interested in dating anyone. i mean, half the cheerleading team said she sleeps with girls and never talks to them again!” ellie points out, and you furrow your eyebrows. “since when do you listen to rumors?” you demand, making her run her fingers through her hair in frustration. “you can’t seriously be thinking about going out with her, are you?”

her question causes you to frown, “yes i am. and unless you can give me an actual reason on why i shouldn’t, then we have nothing left to fight about.” your voice is strangely stern, and something in ellie’s stomach drops because of it. “i’m going to go shower… just like was before you barged in here.” you know you sound meaner than usual, but you can’t help it. ellie was supposed to be showing you how sexy she was when she was jealous, not what a jerk she was. you didn’t even mean to lie about your date with abby; it had just slipped out. ellie had a way of pushing your buttons, and in a way you knew the more you talked about abby, the more you were pushing hers. you walk out of your room, shutting the door behind you and leaving ellie alone. she can’t help but glance over at the messy, undid bed that was taunting her. ellie hates thinking about you and abby together, but she still can’t figure out why. dina was right, the brunette might just be the most oblivious person on the planet.

you’re not as upset after getting clean. a warm shower and a fresh set of pajamas always makes you feel better. when you get back to your room, ellie is no longer there, but there's a twinge of guilt that runs through your veins. you push it as far away from your thoughts as you can. you know you shouldn't feel bad; after all, ellie has been raving about how "pretty" and "hot" angela is for the last four weeks! you shouldn't feel the slightest bit guilty for making her jealous with abby.

as your mind thinks about the honey blonde girl, a small, inevitable smile makes it's way onto your lips. though the smile falls fast when you realize you're going to have to ask abby to help you again. this time it was your own doing; you angrily lied to ellie and told her you had a date with abby. in a way it made you feel a bit pathetic, faking a date. the cruel voice in your head was telling you that ellie was right; you couldn't get a date with someone like abby... not an actual date at least. but ellie didn't really know that. as far as she knew, you were going to be riding off into the sunset with abby after your date.

ellie doesn’t text you throughout the rest of the evening or night. a part of you feels a bit bad for lying to her, but the other part of you knows you only did it because she was acting stupid. the next morning you wake up and get ready for your classes; feeling way better than you did yesterday. abby sees you walking to your second class, which happens to be women’s history with her. she can’t stop herself from approaching you, regardless of the butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

“y/n.” she greets you with that soft accent, that causes an unfamiliar warmth to course throughout your body. “abigail.” you respond back, unable to contain the smile on your face. “how did things go with williams yesterday?” she asks curiously, and your smile falls at the mention of your best friend. “not good? was my plan a bust?” she questions cautiously, rubbing the back of her neck nervously. you sigh, “i don’t know. i mean, she was really mad yesterday when she came to my room. she heard people saying we hooked up, and she said all you wanted was to hookup and never talk to me again…” you trail off, and abby opens her mouth to disagree, but you go on before she can get a word out.

“i kinda got really mad when she said that and i might’ve lied to her about us having a date.” you blush in pure embarrassment, and abby lets out a laugh. “oh jeez, i don’t even wanna picture how angry she got when you told her that.” abby’s voice is light, yet there’s a slight seriousness in her tone; she remembers the way ellie was glaring at her the other night. you shake your head, a small frown etching itself onto your face. abby can’t figure out how you look so pretty all the time; even when you’re upset. “yeah she was pretty mad… but who cares? she’s just acting like a jerk! i mean, to be jealous is one thing but she doesn’t have to be an asshole about it. she’s supposed to be my best friend. realistically she’s supposed to be happy for me.” you mutter, causing the blonde to raise her brows in amusement.

“she’s your best friend who’s in love with you. the more time you spend with me, the angrier she’s gonna get.” abby points out with a slight mumble, and you sigh, “if ellie is as in love with me as you and dina say she is, then she would’ve said something yesterday. but she didn’t. i honestly think ellie just isn’t into me like that.” you sound genuinely sad as you come to terms with this, and the dismal expression on your face causes something to tug at abby’s heartstrings. she doesn’t like seeing you sad.

“she’s just stubborn. she needs more of a push. i mean you said she got upset when you told her we have a date.” abby tries, as you both stand outside of the classroom, continuing the conversation. “yeah, but she’s ellie, she literally has anger issues. maybe she was just mad that i promised to call, and i didn’t.” you explain, and abby shrugs. “then lets go on a date. let’s see how ellie reacts to it.” the taller girl throws the idea out there, causing you to freeze. you look at her, “you wanna take me on a “date”, just so i can see how ellie reacts?” your voice has suspicion laced throughout it, as abby nods. “why do you wanna help me so badly?” you interrogate slightly, obviously not trusting the blonde.

she laughs at the way your eyes are narrowed, and she can’t help but find every expression of yours absolutely adorable. “because i like you. you’re the coolest person i’ve met around here aside from nora and manny. i’ll help you get the girl if that’s what you want. i’m a great wingman.” she winks at you, and you roll your eyes playfully, that genuine smile that causes abby’s heart to palpitate returns. “you’re also a very sweet person.” you add onto her boast; this causes the back of her neck to heat up, as she looks down at her boots and smiles. you wrap your arms around her and hug her tightly, just like you did the other night.

and just like the first time you hugged her, abby’s mind begins to race as the smell of your perfume takes over her senses. she hugs you back, and when you pull away you have this mischievous grin on your face. “i guess we’ve officially got a date then, anderson.” you half joke, as you lead abby into the classroom. abby’s sure her face is as red as a tomato, and she’s much too busy thinking about how soft you are and how good you smell to think of a good response. instead, all abby can do is follow you like a puppy to your seat. she sits down next to you, and throughout the entire class, she doesn’t pay attention once.

after the class ends she realizes she hasn’t taken a single note, and has no idea what the assignment topic for tonight is. every thought she seemed to have, circled back to you. the worst of it was, you were probably thinking about ellie while she was thinking about you nonstop.

after class, she groans to herself as she realizes she has no idea what the assignment topic for tonight is. she was too busy stealing glances at you, and thinking about your “date”.

“god, what the hell did i get myself into?”

abby thinks to herself as she walks into her shared dorm. she throws herself onto her bed, her thoughts never leaving you.

meanwhile ellie slams the door behind her as she storms into her room. she can’t help but feel more upset than ever. she saw you and abby walking to class today, and it caused an ugly green wave of jealousy to wash over her. for a moment she actually wanted to go up to abby and punch her right in front of you, though ellie knew you’d never forgive her for that. but ellie also couldn’t just sit around and watch you fall for abby fucking anderson.

suddenly, she pauses in the middle of pacing as an idea hits her; like a lightbulb lighting up over her head. ellie knows what she has to do; she’s going to ruin your date with abby, and she has a million different ideas on how to do it.

xxxxxxx

team abby or team ellie? 👀

taglist: @macaroni676 @swxxtbnny @bellaramseyswife @asabovesobelow666 @thatonementallyillsimp @fofinhamarie @p4ison1vy @harrysslutsstuff @jalousiexx @mostlyhornyandsad @clouded-whispers @elliewilliams4ever @forelliesposts @dergy @uraesthete @4rt3m1ss @3bolivia @calderysuh @milfsandtittyenthusiast @fofinhamarie @mikimambo @elliewilliamsgf69 @ariiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii01 @ellienbilliearemywives @emst4rr @nabiba @bycoincidencesoflife @jennasoneanonly @lizzygoldenr @bready101 @dinasbigtoe @fairlyang @wingedoafbasketballjudge-blog @halfmooneclipse @defencelessarcher @selfcentered-bitch @vswerve @iwantyoutocryforme @hsangel64 @abbysleftbicepp @gabsssssblog @2dmenlackimperfection @cinematicdilfs @masclover111 @mai5mai @teenagedramaqueenlisa

i’m sorry to everyone it didn’t let me tag, some of your blogs weren’t popping up 😭 merry christmas loves, stay safe - vamp <3

[moon1833]

SEVEN METER -INUMAKI TOGE

“Inumaki Toge had given up on his dream of being able to verbally confess to the person he liked years ago.”

By the time Inumaki turned ten, he fully accepted the fact that he would live his life without anyone fully understanding what he wanted to say.

It was a bit lonely at first, to see everyone around him besides his family talk freely, but he had no other life to compare it to.

By the time he was seventeen, the dream had fell into the furthest corner in the back of his mind, hardly ever remembering it being a thought until you, the new second year student, revealed your technique to him during training.

“Freeze.” His command sounded different off his tongue, but he didn’t notice it right away.

When you kicked your legs out anyway, forcing him off balance and throwing him to the ground, then he realized something was off.

Inumaki’s cheek was in the grass, his arm pinned to his back as your legs stopped him from twisting. From the corner of his eye, he stared at you in confusion, and a bit of admiration.

“It’s my cursed technique.” You couldn’t help the grin on your face. “It stops all techniques in a seven meter radius.”

You step off of him, giving him your hand to help him get up. He takes it, his lips parted slightly in shock.

“I know, I’m sorry.” You help dust some dirt off his shoulder. “You could’ve spoken to me without having to limit your vocabulary when you first met me yesterday, but I wanted to surprise you.”

You wait as he takes the information in, his mind trailing with possibilities, trying to figure out what his first real words would be to you.

“It’s… okay.” He settles on, feeling as though he was attempting another language.

“Here, let’s go again.” You smile. “It’ll be fair this time.”

From that point on, Inumaki couldn’t deny he felt a slight attachment to you. After all, he could talk freely to you and not worry about hurting you.

It was an adjustment, to be sure. He wasn’t used to the sound of his own voice using so many words at a time, and that his throat didn’t hurt when he did.

At the same time, you found yourself at his side as well. He smiled more when you were in the room, and you believed it was because he had someone he could now actually talk to.

Everyone else, however, read into it a different way.

Gojo was convinced you two were both in love with each other, constantly setting you up together in sparring work and putting you on missions together. Maki, Panda, and even Yuuta teased him relentlessly, desperately trying to get the boy to admit he had a crush on you.

Sure, you might’ve been powerful, hard working, and one of the prettiest people Inumaki had ever had the pleasure of seeing, but that didn’t mean he had a crush on you.

Besides, even if Inumaki did, personal feelings was the last thing you wanted to get mixed up in. You had made that crystal clear on your very first day, practically skipping onto Jujitsu High, brimming with determination that rivaled Maki.

Your cursed technique was incredibly useful, but it was still messy. You were hoping to learn to control it better, as well as improve your combat skills. After all, you had people to save, and things like romance didn’t fare well with jujitsu sorcerers.

Even you couldn’t deny, though, there was definitely something going on between you and Inumaki.

You were always training, eating, or even sleeping together. In class, your seats were always together, and he’d whisper commentary about Gojo-Sensei’s weird teaching that would have you covering your mouth to conceal your laughter.

By the time you both had turned eighteen, your classmates had truly had enough.

“Can you two just kiss already?” Maki’s face twisted as she complained, eyeing her friends were practically on top of each other on the couch in the common room.

You removed your legs from Toge’s lap, immediately missing how he drew circles on your knees.

“Honestly, I think you two actually making out in front of us instead of the constant heart eyes would be less intimate.” Megumi suddenly joins the conversation, Itadori nodding in agreement beside him.

Your eyes slightly widen in surprise, and you don’t have to look at Toge to know he’s flushed red.

“Bonito flakes.” He pouts, crossing his arms and shrinking into his hoodie.

“Oh, come on.” Nobara groans, throwing her head against her armchair. “This is borderline annoying.”

“I’m loosing money, you know.” Maki’s grinning a bit now. “We should lock them in a closet or something.”

“No, no.” You say quickly. “You people are insane.”

“And you’re boring.” Nobara whines.

Itadori whispers something to Megumi, and he looks at him quizzically. Nobara must have overheard it, because she’s howling with laughter.

“What?” Maki pries.

“Yuuji thought they were already together.” She says in between gasps.

Toge fully hides his face in his hands, but you can see bits of reddened skin between his fingers.

Luckily, Panda comes back with a few snacks a few minutes later, and the topic changes. The group decides to watch a movie, and for the first time, you try your best to not fall asleep on Toge’s shoulder.

Still, it’s past midnight when the movies credits begin to roll, and your head feels heavy. Your blinks are longer, and you rest your face against the head of the loveseat.

Silently, Toge watches you carefully. You’re fighting (and failing) to stay awake, and your face is scrunched slightly.

The two of you are the only people still awake, Maki was using Panda as a pillow, and the three underclassmen were sleeping on top of each other.

Toge pokes your face, and you snap up. There’s a coy smile on his lips, and you can’t bring yourself to be mad at him.

“What?” You whisper.

He shrugs, a bit worried about speaking with so many people in the room.

“It’s okay, I’ve gotten good at it.” You reassure. You had mastered it last month, being able to target one individual and force them to not have any cursed techniques. Only downside was using it for an extended time would make you pass out.

He nods a bit shyly before swallowing. “That movie was ass.”

You laugh sharply, nodding in agreement. “I’m not sure why we let Itadori pick anymore.”

At his name, the boy in question let out a guttural snore, and you and Toge couldn’t contain your giggles.

“C’mon.” You push him up. “We’re going to wake them up.”

Still holding back your laughter, the two of you ran hand in hand down the hallway and up the stairs.

From the other side of the stairs, you could hear footsteps trotting closer to you. Before you heard his footsteps, you felt his cursed energy. Quickly, you enabled your own technique to hide your and Toge’s trails, holding onto his shoulder to stop his movements.

Realistically, Gojo probably wouldn’t give two shits that you were out past curfew, but on the off chance that he did, you didn’t want to serve detention with him again.

The last time, he had left you in the classroom overnight because he had locked the door and forgot you were there. You had to climb out of the window to get out.

You pulled Toge under the stairwell, unintentionally gripping onto him with both hands. His arms were comfortably wrapped around your waist, and he was grinning ear to ear.

Gojo started to whistle incredibly off key as he walked, and the you made the mistake of making eye contact with Toge as he did.

“Shh!” You covered his mouth with your hand, but you were still laughing. In response, he covers your mouth as well, and you still don’t realize you’re practically nose to nose.

The both of you are still giddy, shushing laughs that are a bit too loud for you to not get caught. You can’t pull away from his eyes, and your mouth parts slightly.

Before you can think about it, you press your lips to his, ceasing the rare opportunity of the boys chin above his jacket.

He giggles into the kiss, holding your face in his hands. You grin, and your teeth graze his lip. He gasps, and your hands grip onto his shirt.

Toge presses harder into you, and you stagger back into the wall. You’re suddenly familiar with how he tastes, and it’s an addiction you cannot want to be used to.

Inumaki Toge had given up on his dream of being able to verbally confess to the person he liked years ago. But, there you were, staring up at him with pretty eyes and a smile that knocked the wind out of him, and the words ‘I love you’ were so so simple to say.

[covenofagatha]

Hii, can you please do the second part for Professor Agatha x athlete student, where Agatha uses her connections in order to help y/n to deal with the abusive coach? Maybe he pushes y/n to swim again on the next day, but Agatha appears and stops him. After it, she uses her connections in the sport administrative department, so they would offer y/n a medical disqualification from the team, because after seeing a doctor it turned out that she needs to get a surgery too? The university will pay for the surgery and y/n will keep the scholarship to finish her degree but she is not on the team anymore. At the same time her relationship with Agatha grows. Can you please include a smutt scene with dom Agatha face sitting?

(The first part was super! Thank you!💜

(I know it's a big request, but huge thank you in advance if you write it!)

Heyyy sorry this one took so long 😅 thanks to everyone who asked about it and got me inspired to write the second part

Swimming into her arms (part 2)

Part 1

Word count: 6.3k

Warnings: face-sitting, oral, praise kink, masturbation, fluff

You need surgery. 

The doctor is saying other things but it’s all kind of a blur now. The words surgery and torn meniscus and six to nine months for total recovery swirl around your head and make you feel dizzy. 

“You okay?” Agatha asks, gently patting your leg. She somehow had connections to a great orthopedic and they were able to get you in the same day. 

The two of you still hadn’t exactly talked about what happened earlier on the couch. It was haunting every conversation, every simple touch. 

At least for you. 

The ever-feared, stone cold Agatha Harkness had kissed you. Eaten you out. Made you come all over her mouth. 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” you say to stop yourself from thinking too much about the memory, lest you get turned on again. You clear your throat. “When will I be able to swim?” 

The doctor purses his lips and your stomach drops. “With a tear this bad, it will be months before you can even start light physical activity. To get back to your level of practice, six months at the earliest? And that’s if it heals correctly.” 

You blink tears out from your eyes. There goes your scholarship. College as a whole. Maybe even Agatha, too. 

And now you have to pay for surgery on top of it? 

“Um, if I hadn’t swam yesterday,” you ask, voice wavering, “would it still have been this bad?” You pray more than anything that he says yes. 

He frowns and Agatha stiffens next to you. “Based on what you said happened in the weight room about just landing on it weirdly, that wouldn’t have done enough damage alone to make it almost a complete tear. My guess is that the swimming and the walking after made it a lot worse. Mostly the swimming.” 

You feel like you’re going to throw up. Because of your coach, your entire life is ruined.

He gives you a brace, pain pills, and crutches so you don’t have to put any weight on your leg and schedules your surgery for a week from tomorrow. 

You hobble to Agatha’s car with your professor in silence. You can tell she’s deep in thought, while you are just angry and hurt. She opens the door for you and helps you lay your crutches in between the seat and the console so you can get in. 

“I’m going to talk to the athletic director,” Agatha finally says. “Tell him about what your coach did and see if they’ll pay for your surgery. And then I’m giving your coach a piece of my mind.” 

You laugh but it sounds hollow. She reaches over to squeeze your forearm. 

“You’ll get through this. I promise and I’ll be there for you.” 

“What’s going to happen to him?” you ask softly. You know you shouldn’t care and you are furious with him, but there’s still some mixed feelings. 

But not for Agatha. She scoffs and says, “With any luck, he’ll be fired and never allowed to coach again. He shouldn’t be, after he put you in danger like that. It’s not okay.” 

Seeing her like this again makes warmth bloom in your chest. “Thank you,” you say softly, “for taking me to the doctor, for yesterday—for all of it.” You know you will have to call your parents and tell them, and you’ll have to tell your friends and your teammates and your coach, but for right now, it’s just the two of you in this little bubble. 

Would it be too much for it to stay that way?

Agatha’s hand moves from the gear shift to rest on the center console, next to your hand. Her pinkie brushes against yours, like she wants more but won’t take it. 

“I’m really sorry about all of this. I know how hard you work and how much effort it takes to be a student-athlete. I’m really proud of you.” 

Even though her words are nice, you still laugh bitterly. “I’m not a student-athlete anymore, thanks to my asshole of a coach.” 

She turns toward you, face stoic. You finally notice that she still hasn’t put the car into reverse to back out of the spot. “Why didn’t you tell me about him?” 

“I…I don’t know,” you say, chewing on the inside of your cheek. Deep down, the truth rings out inside you: you were afraid what he was doing was actually bad and she would say something to the school. It’s ironic now, that maybe if you had opened up about him, you might not be in this situation. 

It was easy to use humor to deflect how badly he treated you. But if you were forced to confront it, you weren't sure you’d be able to keep it together. 

Agatha sees the reluctance written plainly on your face. “Do you want to talk about it now?” 

You shrug. “I mean, yeah, he’s mean. He told me that I was damaged goods and no one was ever going to want me, he’s called me a toxic ringleader before, he said I was a difficult person to get along with. He constantly tells me that I’m not good enough and that I never will be.” Your nose stings and your cheeks twitch but you force down the emotion. “I fucking hated stepping onto that pool deck. Everyday, I just knew he was going to tear me apart. If there was a bad set, I just knew he was going to be on me, telling me to go faster and work on my stroke but nothing I did was ever going to be enough. And I—” Your voice cracks and you break off when you realize that Agatha is staring at you with so much sadness in her eyes. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” she says. One hand comes up to cup your cheek and you look away. 

“I used to really like swimming,” you tell her and tears gather and sting. You swallow roughly. “I used to really like it and now I hate it but now this is it. I’m probably never going to get back to the level that I’m at right now, and will I even want to get back in the pool after this? He just—he ruined it all and I’m going to fucking miss it.” 

The realization is a dagger stabbing you in the heart and you feel your cheeks dampen, taste saltiness on your lips. Agatha pulls you in for a hug and you ignore the jutting of the console into your ribs because it’s the only sort of comfort you have right now. 

“I’m sorry,” she mutters into your ear. “I’m so sorry.” She strokes your back and it’s hard to believe that just a few hours ago, her mouth was on you and you were feeling so good, instead of this soul-crushing numbness. 

The two of you stay like that for what seems like an hour and when you finally pull back because you don’t want to get snot on her shirt, you see her looking a little glassy-eyed too. 

She sniffs and puts the car into reverse and the drive is silent on the way to Agatha’s house as you contemplate what you’re going to do next. You only have a semester and a half left in college, maybe you can scrape together your tuition and you won’t have to drop out. Hopefully your parents’ insurance will be able to cover most of the surgery and you suppose you’ll be able to get a job in your free time now. 

When she pulls into her driveway, she quickly gets out and jogs over to your door to help you. It’s not easy with the crutches and you have to awkwardly maneuver them over your body to hand them one-by-one to Agatha. You then have to rotate in the chair and put your good foot on the ground first before gingerly resting your other toes down, keeping your knee bent just a little. She assists you in positioning the crutches under your armpits and then you slowly but surely follow her up to the porch with her looking back every few steps to make sure you’re okay. 

Getting up and over the threshold of the door poses a little problem so Agatha takes the crutches from you and grips one of your forearms while you do almost a little hop to get up into her house. She gives you an encouraging smile as she returns the crutches and then you make your way into her living room. 

She points to the couch—the same couch where she went down on you and your cheeks heat up—so you obey and sit down, swinging both legs over the side to lay horizontally. Agatha is typing on her phone absentmindedly so you stretch to the other side of the couch, grab a pillow, and pack it under your hurt leg so it’s elevated. The brace is uncomfortably digging into you and your skin is sweating underneath and you rack your brain for anything the doctor said about being able to take it off. 

Agatha still isn’t paying attention to you and you’re fairly confident that it won’t mess it up even more, so you unstrap the velcro, unfasten the straps, and your knee can breathe again. 

The adrenaline, and maybe the pain pills, have begun to wear off a little and your joint starts to ache. It’s not as intense as earlier, but it’s a dull throb that spikes through your body and leaves you shifting in hopes of relief. 

You’re about to ask Agatha for a bag of ice when she lifts her phone to her ear and spares you a glance. She looks stern at first, but once she takes you in, her face softens. You give her a smile that she returns before you hear a voice on the other line. 

Her face instantly fixes into her teacher glare. “Hey, Dave.” Your stomach turns. She must be talking to the athletic director, Dave Herron. “It’s Agatha Harkness. I teach at Westview. Listen, I need to talk to you about one of the swimmers on the team.” 

She pauses and pinches the bridge of her nose with two fingers, closing her eyes and shaking her head. Agatha gives you another look and purses her lips before waving a hand at you and stepping into a room off to the side, the office, you’re presuming. You meet her eyes one last time before she closes the door. 

There’s only tidbits from the conversation that you’re able to hear now, and if you were in a better condition, you would go stand right outside the door to eavesdrop. But for now, you’re stuck with piecing together the fragments. 

“No, you need to do something about this!” she hisses. “...the doctor said practice made it worse…no, she tried! He wouldn’t let her…the things he’s been saying to them—to her…and now she’s going to be punished…” 

It warms your heart to hear her standing up to the athletic director for you, but you also hope she doesn’t get in trouble for going to all these lengths for a student. You can’t help but wonder what’s going to happen with your coach. 

“Okay, okay…yes, I think an investigation is very much needed…I’ll talk to him, send me his number…that is very good to hear, thank you very much,” she says and then there’s quiet. You wait for her to come back out, but you hear beeping and a dial tone as she calls someone else. Who is the “he” Agatha was referring to? 

Your coach? 

Would she really call him, though? You start to get anxious at the thought of her directly confronting him, especially over you. He’s going to be furious if he finds out that he could get in trouble just because of you. 

“Hi, Brad.” Your brows furrow—who is that? You really wish you could hear more of the conversation. Even on Agatha’s side, you’re still missing important bits of information. “I just got off the phone with Dave…yes, it’s because of swimming…he wouldn’t let her!...has to have surgery now and it’s at least a six month recovery…graduates in the spring and will lose her scholarship…” 

There’s a few more minutes of them talking, but as hard as you strain your ears, you can’t discern anything. Either way, knowing that she’s exuding this much confidence and is bossing these two men around—over you nonetheless—makes you squeeze your thighs together. There’s a sudden ache between them, not that that’s any surprise. 

There’s something about Agatha taking control that turns you on. In class, when she’d get on students for being late or a stupid answer, or the way she would command the room would have wetness pooling in your underwear. 

Would it be allowed for you to tell her that now? Or do something about it? You’re not exactly sure where your relationship with your teacher stands, especially after her eating you out earlier. On this very couch. 

The door to Agatha’s office opens as you’re rubbing your face because of how head-over-heels you are for her and your attention snaps to her. She’s guarded as she walks over to you before sitting on the edge of the couch, careful not to bump your leg. 

You scan her face. “Everything okay?” The fire in your stomach is slowly flickering out with how serious she seems, but it’s not completely gone because there’s a gleam in her eye when she looks at you. 

“I talked to the athletic director. He’s going to suspend your coach and open an investigation into him. Westview’s going to bring in a third-party company to do it and they’re going to conduct some interviews. I’m sure you’ll get called in.” 

Nodding slowly, you think over what she’s saying. “All of that just because of my leg?” 

“Well, there’s been other complaints about him over the years. Very much along the lines of verbal and emotional abuse, just like what he’s been doing to you. But now,” she says, nodding to your leg, “he deliberately put you in a situation where you ended up actually getting more hurt. You told him that your knee was bothering you and he still made you swim and now you need surgery, that’s very serious. He might even get fired, depending on what everyone else says.” 

There’s a pit in your stomach. He does deserve it, you tell yourself. “And I’ll have to talk to the investigator?” 

Agatha lays a hand on your good knee and rubs circles with her thumb comfortingly. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. But honey, I really think you should. He hurt you. In more ways than one, it seems. I can go with you, if you’d like.” 

You lean into her touch and close your eyes to soak it in for just a second. Then you shake your head and steel your nerves. “No, it’s okay. I should do it by myself. I can do it.” 

“And I talked to the athletic CFO, the money guy,” she adds with a smile. You prompt her with an eyebrow raise. “He says you don’t have to worry about your scholarship for next year, you can keep it.” 

“Wait—are you serious?” you ask with bated breath. It’s too good to be true. You won’t have to scrape together anything just to finish your degree. 

Agatha nods. “Yep. And they’ll take care of your surgery because you’re a student-athlete and it happened during school-sanctioned practice. So you don’t have to worry about anything.” 

Happiness and relief overcome you and you attempt to sit up straight and spread your legs so you can lean over and hug her. It works, kind of. You have to pull back after a second because the stretch hurts your knee and Agatha laughs. 

“I don’t even know what to say,” you admit. Agatha’s forehead wrinkles in confusion. “I mean, thank you. For everything.” Your gaze drops down to your lap as you fiddle with your fingers. “If it weren’t for you, I probably would’ve gone back to practice tomorrow and fucked my leg up even more.” 

Her arm reaches over to tilt your head up by your chin. She strokes her thumb over your bottom lip and her gaze meets yours with a fondness you’ve only seen a few times before. “I told you I was going to take care of you, sweetheart. Thank you for letting me.” 

You smirk in what you hope is a seductive manner. “Well, can I take care of you? Seems fair that I should return the favor.”

“Oh, yeah?” she asks, playful lilt in her voice. Your eyes shine with eagerness and Agatha looks you up and down, heat in her scrutiny. “Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt your knee even more or make you feel like you have to do anything. We can say that we just got caught up in the emotions earlier and we’ll never have to talk about it again.” 

Chewing on your lip, you shake your head. “I don’t want to pretend that it never happened. I’m sure.” 

Her smile is genuine and she whispers, “Me, too,” before closing the gap and kissing you. Her hands clasp your cheeks and she’s holding you like water as she moves her mouth against yours gently like she doesn’t want to hurt you. 

You get impatient and slip your tongue into her mouth and she lets out a small sound of surprise before taking the hint and deepening the kiss. She sucks on your tongue and your teeth click against each other all while your core burns and aches. One of your hands winds up in her hair and the other on her hip, attempting to pull her closer, but when she starts to scoot forward, she accidentally bumps your knee and shooting pains race up your leg. 

Ignoring it, you palm her breast over her shirt and she hisses. She kisses you harder and rocks forward, putting some of her weight on you, and you break away because your knee is throbbing now. 

“Are you okay?” she asks and it’s so reminiscent of earlier when she had trouble fucking you. Only now, you’re not exactly sure how you’re going to be able to do this. 

“Yeah, I just,” you start, not sure how to voice your anxiety. You can’t lie on your stomach, you’re not sure she can put any weight on you without it causing pain, you can’t stand on your own. But you want her so bad you’re almost drooling. 

But Agatha knows. She tosses her hair back over her shoulder and gets off the couch before holding a hand out to you. Her lips are slightly swollen and pink, matching the tint that’s spread through her cheeks, and there’s heat in her eyes that sets your nerves ablaze. 

You take her hand and she pulls you up, putting your arm across her shoulders and helping you hobble over to the stairs. She takes you up them slowly, and while you’re sure there’s nothing sexy about you sweating and gasping for breath when you finally get to the top, her melodic laugh and the way she looks at you dissolves all of your worries. 

She leads you down the hall and to the first door on the right. When she opens the door, you get your first look of your favorite professor’s bedroom. The mahogany bed frame holds a king-sized mattress with lilac sheets and matching nightstands on each side. Across from the bed, there’s a vanity that’s cluttered, but neat. There’s pictures of the woods that are hanging on the light gray walls. 

“It’s very…you,” you say and Agatha chuckles before guiding you to the bed. You sit on the edge and watch her, still not sure what her plan is. 

Agatha reaches down to toy with the hem of her black blouse that she’s wearing, the same one she taught in earlier. It seems like a million years ago that you had her class. In just a few hours, everything has changed. 

She takes it off and your mouth drops open. Her abdomen flexes and you get the sudden urge to run your tongue over the lean muscle. And then your gaze travels upward and there’s a flash of heat through your body. Her bra is navy and plain, but it pushes up her breasts ever so slightly, making her cleavage swell. 

“Fuck,” you breathe and Agatha winks. 

The pain in your knee is gone when she unbuttons and unzips her pants and starts to inch them down her long legs. More and more pale skin is revealed, her thighs, her knees, her calves, until she finally kicks them off and stands before you in just her bra and black underwear. Your chest rises and falls rapidly, much like hers. 

“Please,” you whisper and she saunters over to the bed, pausing right in front of you, and gripping your hair to tilt your head up so you’re looking at her face. 

“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” she croons.

You pant out a desperate“Yes.” 

She smiles and helps you take off your t-shirt, revealing your rosy sports bra, and gently pushes your head down and the rest of your body follows so you’re laying on your back on the bed, knees still bent and feet resting on the floor. 

You’re salivating as she straddles your hips, careful to watch your face for any sign of discomfort or pain, but you think your leg could be cut off and you wouldn’t even feel it. 

Agatha begins to work her way up your body, knees pressing into the mattress and making it dip as she moves and she lowers herself down to drag her covered cunt across your bare stomach. Your breath hitches—you can feel how wet she is. She leaves a trail of stickiness in her wake that you don’t ever want to wash away. 

When her knees stop right under your armpits, you rest your hands on her thighs and stroke the skin, feeling her tense underneath you. She’s looking down at you, hair framing her face, and you’re not sure you’ve ever seen someone more beautiful. Her dark eyes bore into yours and you shiver under the intense weight of her gaze. 

“Please,” you repeat softly, sliding your fingers up to play with the trim of her panties. 

She inhales sharply when you brush against her lower stomach and she shakily but cautiously moves her legs over your shoulders so her pussy is hovering right over your mouth. Even though the fabric of her underwear is dark, you can still see the wetness in the gusset and you suddenly can’t wait. You surge up to drag your tongue against the fabric and Agatha gasps loudly and her fingers fasten in your hair. 

“You didn’t even wait for permission,” she tuts and you have the gall to not even pretend to be sorry. Agatha’s tongue presses against the inside of her lip as she huffs before reaching down to slide her underwear to the side. 

Her smell hits your nose and you moan. Her pussy lips are swollen and glistening and you can see her clit poking out, just begging to be played with. Agatha drops down just so her cunt ghosts over your mouth and you wonder if she can feel how fast you’re breathing. 

“Can I—please, Agatha, I need to—” 

She tugs on your hair and nods. “Go ahead, sweetheart.” 

The instant your tongue delves through her folds slowly and tastes her sweet heat, you let out a low groan against her. Her head falls back, hair loose over her shoulders, but her grip on your locks remains strong. 

You flatten your tongue and do the same thing again and her breath catches. You tease around her clit, never giving her exactly what she wants, and Agatha begins to slowly gyrate on your face. 

“There you go, just like that, honey,” she says, encouragingly but also hoarse. Her praise makes your own clit pulse and you debate sliding a hand into your pants. 

Your tongue flicks against her clit and she makes a strangled sound so you do it again before sucking on it. Her hips buck, smearing wetness all around your mouth, and then you shove your tongue inside her entrance. 

“Oh, god,” she whimpers and drops more of her weight on your face. Her pubic bone is pressed against your nose so you tilt your head just the slightest bit to the side to take a breath out of the corner of your mouth. 

It makes you think of all the times your coach yelled at you for not breathing correctly while swimming freestyle. 

You smirk against Agatha’s cunt—you think you got it down. 

Her walls clench around you, throwing all thoughts but her from your mind, and you bring your tongue out of her pussy and drag it up to swirl around her clit. 

She’s becoming messier, liquid seeping out of her and into your mouth and onto your face. You suck on her again and she moans, not even bothering to take off her bra before she pinches her nipples. You can see them pebbled through the fabric and your own hips jerk and you wonder what it would be like to suck on those. 

“You’re doing so good, honey, making me feel so good,” she rasps breathlessly. Agatha’s eyes are screwed shut, hair bouncing, and her stomach flexes each time she grinds against you. You can feel the slickness between your thighs when you squeeze them together and you can’t help but sneak a hand down the front of your sweatpants and rest your fingers against your clit. 

Even the slight pressure makes you moan and Agatha jolts from the vibrations. You scrape your teeth against her clit as your tongue thrashes against her entrance and she makes a loud noise. 

When you curl your tongue inside her as deep as it’ll go, she gasps and grinds down harder. You can feel her clit pulse against your lips and your nose and the little sounds escaping your own mouth spur her on. Her wetness becomes a coat on the bottom half of your face and her smell and taste overwhelm all your senses until your head is almost spinning. 

“Such a good girl,” she groans and you press on your clit. Your walls spasm around nothing and your hips jerk. “You’re doing so good, baby, keep doing that. You’re so fucking good.” 

You keep alternating between sucking on her clit and rubbing your tongue against it and then shoving your tongue inside her. She rides your face with vigor, hand tightening in your hair and angling you right where she wants, and you decide to stick out your flattened tongue for her to use. 

She knows what you’re doing and she moans before settling her cunt down and rocking back and forth on you. Her clit drags against your tongue, throbbing, and you feel your own pulse. You begin to slowly draw tight circles on your clit and pleasure already begins to spread through your body. Her sounds go straight to your cunt and you feel your underwear soaking even more. 

“Fuck, baby,” Agatha whimpers and you rub your clit faster, your own hips starting to grind against nothing. 

Her rhythm on top of you starts to falter and fall apart and she’s now just sporadically writhing to take what she needs—you let her. You collect your own wetness from your underwear and press harder through the fabric. There’s a wet circle surrounding your clit and it just makes it easier to get more stimulation, even though there’s not a lot of friction. 

“God, you’re so good—fuck, sweetheart, I’m going to come,” she chokes out and then you feel another gush of wetness on your tongue and she pants loudly as she keeps riding your mouth through her orgasm. Her hands still play with her nipples and watching her head thrown back in ecstasy triggers your own orgasm from almost nothing and you buck up against your fingers and moan against her cunt. 

She keeps grinding until she becomes too sensitive and pulls up and you inhale deeply. Agatha moves a thigh over your head and settles onto her heels while she breathes heavily, looking down at you. You can feel how sticky and wet your face is, much like the mess in your underwear. 

“You did so good,” she says softly, reaching over to wipe your lips and you almost pull away so you can keep the taste of her lingering. You smile and lift yourself up to your elbows and then shift backwards to get the rest of your body onto the bed. 

Pain explodes in your knee as you bend it wrong and you gasp, eyes instantly watering. Your head drops back and you groan and frantically try to straighten your leg to get the ache to go away. 

It doesn’t work. 

“Hey, honey, are you okay?” Agatha asks, concern evident in her voice and you shake your head quickly. 

“It hurts,” you hiss. 

She thinks for a second and jumps off the bed before practically running out of the room. You stifle a sob when it only gets worse and she comes back not even a minute later with a glass of water and a pill between her fingers in one hand and a bag of ice in the other. 

With her help, you’re able to get fully on the bed and turn so you’re resting against the pillows. She puts one of the shams under your knee and holds the bag of ice there and then gives you the pain pill to take. 

You begin to cry quietly and she takes the glass of water from you, puts it on the nightstand, and then slides right next to you to tuck you into her embrace. She holds you while you shake into her arms and she presses soft kisses to your head. 

“Shh, I got you. I got you,” she whispers. “I’m right here, baby. I got you.” 

——

Six months later, the day after you graduate college, the doctor clears you to get in the pool. 

“Only twenty to thirty minutes,” he had told you, “and very minimal kicking. The moment your knee starts to hurt, get out and do your stretches. Make sure you ice it after. You’ll likely feel some light pressure and that’s okay. But do not push yourself.” 

You weren’t even sure if you wanted to get back into swimming. You had spent many nights talking with Agatha about it, but ultimately, she had convinced you that you should. 

Just to get some closure. And it wasn’t like you were going to compete or anything. Plus, it would be good physical therapy. 

“There’s my favorite swimmer,” your professor says when you get out of your car and walk over to her. She’s leaning against the wall of the natatorium, waiting for you. Your parents had taken you out for a celebratory brunch before heading home this morning and you hadn’t even mentioned swimming again to them. 

Only Agatha knew you were going to. 

You smile despite yourself and press a chaste kiss to her lips. Even though you’ve graduated, you still don’t want to get her into any trouble. 

Ever since the injury happened, you’ve practically lived at her house. She took you for your surgery and was right there after you woke up, as promised. She gave you more leniency than any other professor did and helped you constantly with school work and anything else you needed. She went to all your physical therapy appointments with you and held you while you cried from the pain or when you failed to meet a benchmark. She told you how proud she was of you for every slight improvement you showed and gently applied sunscreen to the nasty scar that stretched along your knee. Whereas you had a hard time even looking at it, she kissed it every night and told you that you’re so brave and strong. 

It made you believe it yourself. 

Agatha also was with you the entire way of the investigation into your coach. While you spoke to the investigator alone, your professor was outside of the room and pulled you into a warm hug the second you got out. And every time after when the investigator would call you to clarify or ask you about another teammate’s interview, Agatha held your hand. 

After the investigation dragged on for two months, your coach resigned before a verdict was reached. A hollow victory, but a victory nonetheless. 

She came with you to the championship meet in March to support your team and listened with an adorable smile on her face as you droned on and on about swimming and the girls at the meet and of course she didn’t miss the wistful look in your eyes when your teammates ran over to you or when you got excited about a fast time someone swam. 

And when you asked Agatha if she would come with you on your first swim back after hurting your knee, she kissed you and said, “Of course, honey.” 

“Just take it nice and slow,” she tells you now as she opens the door to the pool for you. The smell of chlorine hits you and the air feels thick, but you inhale deeply. Even though you’d never admit it to anyone but Agatha, you missed it. 

You set your bag on the bleachers right in front of lane one. She sits down and watches appreciatively as you strip off your shoes and socks, sweatshirts, and sweatpants to reveal your favorite lavender swimsuit. 

It’s your first time putting on your cap in six months and Agatha chuckles when the silicone snaps against your forehead and you wince. You give her a playful glare and she holds her hands up in defense. 

“Thank you for coming with me,” you say and she reaches over to take your hand briefly and give it a little shake. 

“Of course, honey,” she says and then smirks. “If I’d known how hot you look in your swimsuit, I would’ve come to all your meets.” 

You pretend to be offended but a giggle breaks free. “I probably would’ve been too distracted looking at you to swim fast. Oh, hey—are you the five-hundred freestyle?” 

Agatha looks confused. “What?” 

“Cause you take my breath away,” you say with a cheesy grin. She closes her eyes and shakes her head. “Are you a slippery pool deck? Because I’m falling for you.” 

She snorts adoringly and waves her hand. “Go get in the pool.” 

You give her one last puppy-dog look. “Are you a flipturn? Cause I’m head over heels for you.” 

Agatha shakes her head but a smile peaks through. “You’re cute.” 

With a smile, you peck her cheek and grab your goggles before walking over to the lane. Once you’re at the gutter, you pause and take a deep breath before looking over your shoulder. Agatha gives you an encouraging nod and you put your goggles on and jump in. 

The water envelopes you and the world goes silent and you just float for a second. Memories come rushing back to you, both good and bad, but you push them out of your mind and pull yourself to the surface. 

You gently kick off the wall and when you take your first stroke, you’re sorely reminded how out of shape you are. Water slips through your fingers and it feels like you’re moving through molasses but the ache in your shoulders is a good one. 

You feel alive. 

Twenty minutes passes by quickly and just as the doctor ordered, you don’t kick much at all, but when you do, there’s only a slight twinge in your knee and it goes away the more you move. 

When you get out, you can almost feel the dopamine pumping through your veins and you realize just how much you’ve missed working out. 

“How was it?” Agatha asks when you walk over to her. She hands you your towel and you graciously take it. Freezing and soaking wet after getting out is not something you’ve missed and no matter how hard you and your teammates tried to get the maintenance crew to turn up the temperature inside, they wouldn’t.

“It felt really good,” you admit honestly and she beams. “I think I want to start swimming again, just recreationally. Maybe a few times a week.” 

She slings an arm around you after you wrap your towel around you and fasten it into your swimsuit straps like a dress and slide your shoes and socks on. “That’s awesome, honey. I’m really happy for you. Your leg still feels okay?” 

“Didn’t hurt at all,” you tell her happily and she squeezes your bicep. 

Agatha leads you to the door before snickering to herself. “Hey, baby. Are you taper? Because you’re everything I’ve been waiting for.” 

Your laugh is hysterical. “Did you look that one up?” you ask once you can breathe again and Agatha shrugs sheepishly. 

She holds the door open for you and you walk out before interlocking your fingers and tugging her by the hand to her car. 

“I love it,” you say and a smirk plays on your lips. “Now hurry up and take me home so I can show you my breaststroke.” 

Taglist: @lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights @n3bula-cats @m1vfs @agathascoven1

[bbyobbyo]

Ever since you stopped using his Spotify account in the mornings, you find other ways to mess with your boyfriend.

A short continuation of this fic, but can be read as a standalone.

content: fluff, established relationship, idol!Jihoon, banter, reader and jihoon just have a permanent jam session going on, they’re in love i swear

wc: 857

note: ahhh they’re back!! thank you to everyone who read the first part and gave it love😊 this has been rotting my brain for a while and i originally was playing with this concept for the original but couldn’t pull it together but we’re here now! shoutout to @highvern because it was partly inspired by her fic “Between the Titles” which is such a great read that i highly recommend along with literally everything else she writes!! all the songs featured here are real and from an era of kpop I hold near and dear to my heart so if you recognize any of them, you’re a real one 🥰

Jihoon is not a morning person, never has been. As he sits in the dressing room of the filming studio, he can feel his eyelids getting increasingly heavy. Some of his members are actively sleeping, in fact, and Jihoon knows he’ll be joining them soon if Wonwoo takes any longer in that makeup chair.

Blasting in his ears is his usual Bruno Mars playlist, a sad attempt to try to recover his energy before he knocks out next to Mingyu sleeping on a mat on the floor, but to no avail because his mind slowly slips away until a piercing airhorn noise jolts him awake.

SEVENTEEN TEEN TEEN NEOWANA SAI E

Uhh. This was definitely not his Daily Bruno Mars Mix.

He immediately searches his screen to find out what happened when he finds his answer in the form of a text from you.

[8:18 am] good morning sleepyhead :)

[8:18 am] hope I didnt scare you too bad :)

He scrunches his face up in disbelief, half amused that you managed to catch him off guard with possibly the most annoying wake up song on Seventeen’s discography, and half annoyed at the realization that he must’ve forgotten to cancel your Spotify Jam session from yesterday.

He decides to leave your text on read. After all, he has plenty of time to be petty today. Furiously searching through his library, he queues up a song and before Mingyu can finish singing the first chorus, he smashes the next track button in smug anticipation.

Now Playing: Fxxk U • Gain, Bumkey

And he doesn’t have to wait long before he gets your reply.

[8:20 am] oh i see how it is

Now Playing: This is War • MBLAQ

If Jihoon wasn’t awake before, he definitely is now. Even as he gets called in to do his makeup next, he thinks carefully about his next move.

Now Playing: LOSER • BIGBANG

…

Now Playing: WHO, YOU? • G-DRAGON

An audible scoffs escapes from his lips as he involuntarily tilts his head back in amusement, much to the dismay of his makeup artist who had just started on his foundation. He mutters a shy sorry before resuming his search for a reply. Maybe he needs to take a different approach to this if he hopes to continue having Jam sessions with you in the future.

Now Playing: Whatcha Doin’ Today • 4Minute

As Jihoon eventually discovers, his hopes to change the topic of conversation were in vain as two songs were suddenly queued one after another.

Now Playing: Why Don’t You Know • CHUNG HA, Nucksal

Next in Queue: Mind Your Own Business • Ailee

Jihoon thinks he’s met his match, coming to the realization that he could never out sass the love of his life. But he wasn’t willing to back down so easily either.

Now Playing: I’m so sick • Apink

Next in Queue: Because of you • After School

Your next move nearly sends him to tears.

Now Playing: Excuse Me • AOA

Next in Queue: You Don’t Love Me • Spica

Next in Queue: I ain’t going home tonight • Navi, Geeks

Next in Queue: I Don’t Need a Man • miss A

As he chuckles to himself for what seems like the hundredth time this morning, this newfound form of entertainment suddenly becomes incredibly precious. Although you see each other nearly every day, Jihoon realizes just how much he misses you, talking to you about everything and nothing at all, bantering like you’ve known each other for your entire lives.

Now Playing: Am I too easy? • U-KISS

...

Now Playing: Mystery • Beast

Even though he couldn’t be with you physically, he knew you were enjoying yourself just as much as him on the other side. He could almost picture your smile of satisfaction as you found your next song, knowing that he would appreciate your humor. And appreciate he did, happily tapping away at his screen until his makeup artist puts on his finishing touches and tells him to call the next member.

Now Playing: Gotta Go • CHUNG HA

Next in Queue: I’m Busy • 2NE1

Next in Queue: Plz Don’t Be Sad • HIGHLIGHT

…

Now Playing: Okay Dokey • MINO, ZICO

Little does he know that his members are in the corner snickering at the sight, knowing that only one thing could have their producer smiling like an idiot at his phone the whole morning.

Soon enough, Jihoon and his members get swept up into their schedule involving the filming of various contents for their Youtube Channel, a task that usually takes the entire day if a game is involved. Thankfully, the game allowed for members to go home early, a rare treat considering how competitive his members can get when it comes to shooting content.

After his usual rounds of “good work everyone” to the company staff and his members, he gets ready to see the person who been on his mind (and in his ears) since the morning. Taking out his phone, he queues one last song while exiting the building.

Now Playing: Run to you • SEVENTEEN

[nanamis-princess]

Giving them Valentine’s Day chocolates: Jjk edition (pre relationship)

Includes: Nanami Kento, Satoru Gojo & Geto Suguru <3 x gender neutral reader

Warnings: no use of yn lol, none that I can think of lmk

A/N: if you’ve left a request I see it don’t worry! Requests close on February 28th! Please read on my page for more info about sending a request! 🤍click here🤍 I had so much fun writing this omg! Xoxo

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

Nanami Kento

To kento it was just another Friday but the bakery was more crowded than usual. Glancing at his watch as he waits in line, finally stepping up to the counter he greets you with a small smile. He orders his usual, stepping to the side as he glances at the case of red velvet cupcakes and other goodies decorated in pink and red frosting. Directing his attention to you coming in view with a small blue box on top his freshly wrapped bread. The rush of nervousness mixed with the adrenaline powering you through this interaction as you speak up, “i hope you can accept these chocolates, i made them for you” you confessed. The heat rushing to your cheeks as you feel his gaze and hearing the faint giggles from your coworkers behind you. for a moment he’s taken back and truthfully doesn’t know how to respond but says “thank you” with a nod and a small smile. You think you’ve ruined it all completely, moping around the whole day and dreading coming back in tomorrow. The idea of quitting your job and never looking back crossed your mind due to embarrassment. Saturday morning comes by as you begin your shift, preheating the oven as you hear the familiar bell ring of the front door. Your coworker peaks her head around the corner looking at you, “it’s for you” she hums with a grin before walking back towards you. Walking to the front as you pat your apron, looking up to see Kento with a bouquet of flowers. The heat rushes to your face again as your heart races, giving you a soft smile and blush raising to his cheeks. “I apologize for not reciprocating my interest yesterday, i was taken aback by your gesture but I’m grateful for it.” He expresses, extending the flowers to you. “It would be a pleasure to get to know you over dinner if you are interested?” Kento asks making eye contact with you. Nodding with a smile on your face as you accept the flowers “I’d really enjoy that” you confirm. Exchanging information takes a moment but before he leaves kento speaks up, “the chocolates were delicious by the way, you a very talented” he says with a grin before exiting.

Gojo Satoru

Every year since he was a teen gojo has always had an abundant of sweets, even if he doesn’t know who they are from, he keeps them. like com’n is Satoru one to pass upon sweets? Sitting on the benches during lunch You and geto glanced at each other as satoru went through each box not even caring who it was from. “This count higher or lower than last year?” Shoko rolls her eyes, standing up to zip up her jacket. “Lower but there is always more time left in the day” suguru hums, getting up from the bench following behind Shoko for a quick smoke break. Toying with your water bottle cap as satoru gasps, you look up at him “look its your favorite, let me feed it to you” he grins taking the sweet out of its packaging. Holding it up just a few inches away from your lips, you just blink at him, “what?” He asks confused. “That was gifted to you, it’s not for me to eat” you say trying not to let your jealousy bleed through. Satoru tsks shaking his head “but i want to share with you, open” he hums before making an ah sound. You roll your eyes and let him feed you the sweet treat.

Even years later he still gets an abundance of sweets so will these even make a difference if you give this to him you ask yourself? you glance at the small box in your bag. Taking a small breath pulling the small black box with a red ribbon tied nicely on it, you slip into his classroom placing it in the center on top papers from yaga that satoru had been putting off. Fifteen minutes or so go by and your phone screen lighting up catches your eye.

“Oh wow look what someone left me, these beautiful delicious chocolates;)”

“You always know my favorites😙❤️”

“Idk what you’re talking about”

“I don’t have six eyes for nothing😝”

“But yuji told me he seen you leaving them lol”

“….”

After teaching your last few classes of the day you practically speed walk to your car. Hoping to go home and put your comfy clothes on to binge that new series you’ve had your eye on. seeing the white hair a mile away as you reach your car leaves you smiling a little. Satoru turns around with that beautiful smile that makes you melt, “there you are. Let’s go get dinner tonight” satoru hums closing the gap between you. your heart racing as you shrug your shoulders. “Going out on Valentine’s Day last minute? Nowhere is going to have a seating open” you say dryly trying to play off the giddy feeling. “I can pull a few strings, but if you’d rather stay in and get takeout doesn’t sound too bad.” He offers with a smile. “Unless you want to get rid of me” he says with a fake pout making you playfully role your eyes. You turn to your car “I want to pick what we eat then” you add.

Suguru geto

Having been neighbors with geto for almost two years now has given you the courage to finally try to make a move, maybe now wasn’t a good time though? He’s always so busy with the girls, you’d never want to get in the way. From time to time you’d take the girls in for an hour after school if geto was running late. he’d always express his gratitude and adored how much the girls enjoyed being around you. The girls sat across from you as you washed grapes for them, Nanako speaks up “our dad doesn’t have a valentine this year” she ‘casually’ drops that followed by a giggle from Mimiko. “Oh is that so?” You humor them with a chuckle as you dry the grapes off with a towel. “Uh huh” Nanako hums with a giggle as the girls look at each other.

‘Just a test run of chocolates’ you thought to yourself as you made this small batch of chocolates. After cooling, you slip them into the white box and wrapping a small red ripen around it with a little attachment geto with a heart next to it. Taking a small breath as you are leaving for work you slip it in his mailbox before heading out of the building. The thought crossing your mind all day at work with a bunch of what ifs, you try grounding yourself to get through the rest of the day. Buzzing back into your building after a long day you just want to relax and it had completely slipped from your mind. Shedding your coat and keys at the door and letting it close behind you. Not even two minutes of being in you apartment you get a knock at your door, glancing at the door you hear muffled giggles and shh. Opening it to see Suguru with three heart shaped balloons, a Valentines basket decked out with goodies, your favorite chips and gift cards. Giving you that warm smile that you find comfort in “Happy Valentine’s Day” he hums. The girls peaking out on each side of him with small vases of flowers.

[m4rv3l-girl]

Courting in Bloom

Bucky x Y/N

Bucky is a 40s gentleman, through and through…

Warnings: Heart melting fluff!

The vase of fresh daisies on the windowsill.

It had been refilled just yesterday, another token of affection from Bucky. Your eyes lingered on the delicate petals, still glistening with dew, and you couldn’t help but smile. Since you and Bucky had started dating, flowers had become a staple in your life.

They came in all shapes, colors, and meanings—roses, daisies, tulips, even the occasional bunch of wildflowers. And each time, Bucky would hand them to you with the gentlest smile, sometimes with a shy shrug, as if the gesture didn’t make your heart flip every single time.

It was charming, old-fashioned, and so quintessentially him.

Today’s delivery was a bouquet of peach and pink roses, wrapped in soft brown paper with a ribbon tied at the base. He had arrived at your door late last night, his metal hand carefully holding the bouquet, his human hand tucked into his jacket pocket.

“Did you know these mean ‘gratitude and admiration’?” he had recited, voice soft but proud.

And, of course, your heart had melted on the spot.

🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹

The next day, you were still admiring the roses when the doorbell rang. Padding across the room in your socks, you opened the door to find Bucky standing there, looking every bit the gentleman in a navy sweater and his favorite leather jacket.

“Morning, Doll,” he greeted, his deep blue eyes lighting up as they met yours. In his hand was another bouquet—this time, a mix of daisies and baby’s breath.

“Bucky,” you laughed, stepping aside to let him in. “Another one? At this rate, I’m going to need more vases.”

His grin was boyish as he leaned down to press a kiss to your temple. “Can’t help it, Kitten. You deserve the world, and flowers are just the start.”

The day passed in a cozy rhythm. Bucky had insisted on taking you out for lunch at the little diner down the street, the one that reminded him of home. He told you stories from the ’40s as you shared a milkshake, his face lighting up with nostalgia.

“Back then,” he said, swirling his straw in the glass, “courting was serious business. You didn’t just date—you courted. There were flowers, dances, handwritten letters…” He trailed off, a wistful smile tugging at his lips.

“You’re a hopeless romantic, aren’t you?” you teased, though your voice was fond.

He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “Maybe. But if it means making my best girl happy, I’ll take it.”

You raised an eyebrow, resting your chin on your palm as you leaned over the diner table. “Oh yeah? So what else does ‘courting’ entail, Sergeant Barnes? Should I be expecting serenades under my window or maybe a sonnet or two?”

Bucky’s grin widened, and he let out a soft laugh, the sound so warm and genuine it felt like a blanket wrapping around you. “Well, if I could sing worth a damn, I’d be out there with a guitar right now. But poetry…” He leaned back, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully. “You just might get that. Don’t think I’ve forgotten the Shakespeare book you left on your coffee table last week. I’ve been doing my homework.”

“You’ve been reading Shakespeare?” you asked, incredulous but undeniably charmed.

“Of course,” he replied, smirking. “A guy’s gotta keep up with his girl’s tastes. ‘Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?’” He paused for dramatic effect, the smirk shifting into something softer as his gaze locked on yours. “Nah, doesn’t do you justice. You’re more of a spring morning—warm, soft, and full of life.”

The compliment hit you straight in the chest, and you felt your cheeks heat as you reached for your water glass, trying to hide your flustered smile. “You’re ridiculous,” you murmured, though the warmth in your voice betrayed how much his words had affected you.

“Maybe,” he admitted, still watching you with that fond, unwavering gaze. “But if ridiculous makes you blush like that, Doll, I’ll stick with it.”

You shook your head, biting back a grin. “Okay, Mr. Shakespeare. What else did courting in your day involve? Or are we talking purely sonnets and flowers?”

Bucky hummed, pretending to consider it as he traced patterns on the table with his metal hand. “Let’s see… There were dinners like this one, walks through the park, maybe a movie if we were feeling modern. But it wasn’t just about the gestures. It was about intention. Showing the person you cared, not just saying it.”

Your heart softened at his words, and you reached across the table, your fingers brushing over his. “You’re doing a pretty good job of that, you know.”

His eyes lifted to meet yours, and for a moment, the bustling diner seemed to fade away. The way he looked at you—like you were the only person in the world—made your chest tighten in the best way.

“Well,” he said, his voice dropping to a quiet, almost vulnerable tone, “I meant it when I said you deserve the world. I may not be able to give you that, but I can try my damnedest to make you feel like you have it.”

You squeezed his hand, unable to suppress the smile breaking across your face. “You do, Bucky. Every single day.”

🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷🌷

By the time you got back to your apartment, the sun was setting, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. Bucky had another surprise in store—he’d planned a quiet evening in, complete with a homemade dinner.

You sat on the couch, watching as he moved around the kitchen with surprising ease. He was focused, brows furrowed as he chopped vegetables with precision.

“You know,” you said, breaking the silence, “you don’t have to go to all this trouble for me.”

He glanced over his shoulder, a soft smile playing on his lips. “It’s not trouble, Darling. It’s… what’s the word? A privilege.”

You were leaning your elbow on the counter as you watched him chop the carrots with a surprising precision that would’ve made a professional chef jealous. “A privilege, huh? You really are something else, Barnes. Most guys these days just show up with takeout and call it a night.”

He paused, setting the knife down as he turned to face you, resting his hip against the counter. “Well, I’m not most guys, am I, Doll?” His smile was soft, but there was an unmistakable sincerity in his tone. “I grew up in a time when showing someone you cared meant more than just saying it. Actions speak louder than words. I guess… I like knowing you can see it.”

Your chest tightened at his words, and you couldn’t stop yourself from stepping closer. You reached up, brushing a lock of dark hair back from his forehead. “You know I see it, right? You don’t have to bring me flowers every day or make dinner to prove anything to me. You’ve already got me, Bucky. Completely.”

His gaze softened even further, if that were possible, and his hands found your waist, warm and steady. “I know,” he murmured, his voice low and tender. “But it’s not about proving anything. It’s about reminding you, every chance I get, how much you mean to me. After everything, I don’t take things like this for granted. I don’t take you for granted.”

Your throat tightened, and you felt the familiar sting of tears threatening to spill. “You’re going to make me cry,” you said, laughing softly as you blinked them away.

Bucky smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “Not my intention, Kitten. But if those are happy tears, I’ll take it.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug, and he held you close, his metal arm cool against your back and his human hand warm against your side. The steady beat of his heart under your cheek felt like home.

“Have I told you lately how much I love you?” you whispered, voice muffled against his chest.

“Not since this morning,” he teased, his tone light. Then, softer, “But it’s always nice to hear. I love you too, Darling. More than you’ll ever know.”

You pulled back, tilting your head to look up at him, and he leaned down to kiss you—slow and sweet, like he had all the time in the world. By the time you pulled away, the carrots on the cutting board had been forgotten, and the smell of something slightly overcooking on the stovetop broke the moment.

“Oh no,” you said, laughing as you turned toward the stove. “Your romantic dinner might be in jeopardy.”

Bucky chuckled, his hands still resting lightly on your waist. “Eh, it’s just the carrots. You’re worth a little burnt dinner, Kitten.”

“Careful, Barnes,” you shot back playfully, grabbing a spoon to stir the pot. “Keep talking like that, and I might start expecting burnt meals on the regular.”

“I’ll try to pace myself,” he replied, grinning as he grabbed the knife again. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you. I’m not exactly a five-star chef.”

“Lucky for you,” you said, glancing over your shoulder to flash him a smile, “I don’t need fancy. I just need you.”

And with that, the two of you fell into an easy rhythm again—him chopping, you stirring, laughter and light banter filling the kitchen. It was simple, domestic, and perfect in a way that felt almost too good to be true.

The evening ended with the two of you curled up on the couch, the remnants of dinner forgotten on the coffee table. Bucky had one arm wrapped around your shoulders, the other holding a small book he’d found on your shelf.

“Do you ever get tired of being so perfect?” you murmured, your voice laced with drowsiness.

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Perfect? Nah, Doll. Just lucky to have you.”

You tilted your head to look up at him, your heart swelling with affection. “I think I’m the lucky one.”

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

The next morning, you woke to find another bouquet on your bedside table—a mix of sunflowers and daisies, with a little card tucked inside.

To my Darling Y/N, it read. Here’s to another day of making you smile.

And, of course, you did…

——————————————————————————————————

Hope you guys like this sickly sweet one (It was fun to write!) Make sure to leave a comment, or even a request if you liked it! 🫶

Requests Open!