#I’m now craving an eclair | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fairyhee · 3 years

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Chocolate eclairs (pt.2)

{Part 1}

🍫 optional bias x reader

🍫 ~5.6k words

🍫 smut, enemies to lovers, slight dom/sub themes, praise kink, some dirty talk, oral (both receiving), face sitting (whew), reader has a thing for hands

(I might have dragged everything out for too long? I’m not sure, you tell me, but I just love thinking about all the details so I went with it. Also while I was writing, at some point I lost half of it and had to re-write it because the damn app didn’t save my changes to the draft 🙃 anyways thank you for reading!)

So far, nothing was going as planned today, but somehow you didn’t mind it anymore. At first you were extremely annoyed to say the least, but you slowly started to think having a tall and ridiculously handsome guy follow you around wasn’t so bad after all. Even though he was purposely being irritating, as always, just to get reactions out of you, it was worth enduring for the random flirty remarks he spat out every once in a while. Was he always like this? Did you only realize it now because you were too busy thinking how obnoxiously confident he was, or did he really also dislike you before? You were quite confused, but you at least thought you should enjoy the moment.

After buying those damn chocolate eclairs that you had been craving for a week, and after he insisted to pay, all while poking fun at how you were gonna die at a young age from how much sugar you consume, your next stop would have been the lingerie store. Except now you had him coming along with you, so you weren’t very sure what you should do. To buy some time, you pretended to look at all the stereotypically “romantic” objects that people usually gifted each other on Valentine’s day. Just for fun, you weren’t planning on hinting at anything, but you just wanted to see what he’d be like. Not to mention window shopping was one of your favorite activities when you had nothing else better to do. He, on the other hand, had his mind fixed on one thing solely.

“Y/n, aren’t we eating those eclairs? You didn’t want them just to carry them around, did you?” he asked with a pout.

“Excuse me, since when is there a ‘we’? They’re my eclairs, and I’m saving them for later. I told you I have plans, were you even listening to me?”

“You have plans, right. Well you should be careful then, that boyfriend you have plans with might get jealous if he sees you walking around with a guy like me. I honestly wouldn’t blame him if he felt threatened, after all, you just let the most handsome dude around here buy you coffee and sweets...oh wait, I forgot. You actually don’t have a boyfriend, do you now?” he said in a sarcastic tone.

“It’s extremely funny that you think I need a man in order to have plans on Valentine’s day. I can very well take care of myself, thank you very much.”

“You can take care of yourself in what way exactly? Because if it’s what I’m thinking of, I bet I can do it better.”

“Thank you for your concern, h/n, but if you think you can buy your way into my pants with some sweets, then you have a very low and unrealistic expectation of me. If you want to impress me, try harder.”

“Oh don’t worry, this is far from my best shot. You just look so hot when you’re mad at me, I can’t stop myself.” he said with a sheepish laugh.

You blushed slightly, both at his words and from seeing him grinning so cutely. He had no business looking all cute like that after he had just literally suggested you sleep with him. How could he switch from being so cocky to getting shy for you in just a matter of seconds? You couldn’t help but wonder what he’d actually be like in bed. Especially since he had just showed a new side of him, a particular image of him being submissive to you was stuck on your brain. You could feel your face heating up, and you hoped he didn’t notice how red your cheeks had probably become.

Brushing it off, you entered a random toy store, feigning interest in some plushies. As you were admiring the various teddy bears that came in all shapes and colors, you noticed he had been surprisingly silent since your last exchange. You threw a glance at him and he seemed to have found some games he was interested in, as he had his eyebrows furrowed, trying to read the instructions on the back of some boxes. Perfect, you thought to yourself, now that he’s distracted, you could think of a plan. What the hell were you gonna do about the lingerie? You didn’t want to give up on buying it, you had wanted it for a long time and now was the perfect occasion. Did you want to go with him? Would he want to even enter the store with you? Would he become flustered and make things awkward? Would it be weird if you suddenly told him to leave you alone for a couple of minutes and meet you later? Or should you just end your meeting right there? You weren’t even sure how you wanted to spend the rest of the day anymore, but you for sure didn’t intend to abandon your plans completely for this man that barged into your solo Valentine’s day like that, despite the fact that you were starting to get interested in him.

While you were definitely overthinking the situation, h/n had long finished browsing the board games section. Suddenly, you felt someone’s hot breath near the side of your neck.

“Y/n. You’ve been staring at that teddy bear for 3 minutes now. Did you not have any as a child, or do you want me to buy it for you that bad? You could just ask, you know.”

Startled by the proximity of his voice, you turned your head to him and took a few steps away. “Wow, you sure have a talent for being rude. You’re still annoying even when you’re trying to hit on me.” you said trying to seem unaffected. However, you would lie if you said that feeling his breath on your skin didn’t send shivers down your spine.

He chuckled at your reaction and slid his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“So? Do you want it or not?”

“With that sort of attitude, I shouldn’t even answer. So what if I wanted it, what would you do? There’s nothing between us, so why would you buy it for me?” you taunted. You knew he was trying to make you soften up, but you weren’t falling for it just yet.

“Who said I’d buy it for you? If I did and you ended up sleeping with a stuffed toy every night, that would just be unfair.” he pouted. Why was he acting this cute now? This man was so confusing.

“What the hell does that even mean?”

“I don’t wanna be jealous of a teddy bear. I’d rather you would sleep with me instead.”

You stared at his triumphant smile for a few seconds, at a loss for words. He looked like he just made the best pick-up line ever. It was so bad, yet you wanted to accept his wish and take him home. What was wrong with you?

“You’re absolutely obnoxious, did you know that? Wipe that smirk off your face, you look like an idiot.”

He laughed. “But somehow you’re still putting up with me. I’d say you’re doing a great job enduring me. Unless...you’re actually enjoying my company, which I suspect you do.”

“Yeah, whatever. Come on, I have one more thing to get before I can finally go home and get rid of you.”

You had made up your mind. You weren’t letting any man interfere with your plans.

Walking in the most confident way possible, you entered the lingerie store. You didn’t even spare him a glance as you looked through the pieces, searching for something that would match your taste. You were dying to know what his reaction was, what he was thinking, but you weren’t giving in. Suddenly, you had an idea. Acting like what you were doing was the most normal thing, you picked out two options, pretending you couldn’t decide between them. One was a black see-through set adorned with velvet hearts, while the other was made out of red lace and a bunch of straps that looked like a harness. Either way, both were made more to reveal rather than cover you up. Holding one in each hand, you turned to look at him with an unfazed expression plastered on your face.

“Make yourself useful for once and help me decide. Which one do I get?”

Seeing the way he was looking at you made a flush of heat spread across your face. His eyes were dark and he looked like he would have devoured you right then and there. You didn’t know what you expected, but this look was definitely not it.

He took a few seconds to respond, during which his gaze on you only seemed to intensify. He almost looked angry, clenching his jaw and eyeing you so strongly.

“You’d look great in both, but I’d take the red one.”

Hearing his choice, you immediately hung it back on the rack and took your other option to the cash register.

You heard him scoff behind you. “Why bother asking me if you were gonna pick that one anyway?”. He was smiling, but it was clear that he was trying to control his frustration.

You gave him the sweetest smile in the world. “I liked both equally and couldn’t decide, so I’m getting the one you like less. Since you’re never gonna see me wearing it anyway.”

“You drive me insane. That makes absolutely no sense.”

“Really? But you’re the one that’s been following me around all day. Now you’re angry with me, how come?” you said innocently.

He smirked and took a few steps until he was so close, you could feel his hot breath on your face, but you didn’t back away and maintained his gaze. His scent was intoxicating, and you were trying your best to not show how into him you were already.

“If you want to make me angry, you’ll have to try harder, babygirl.” you clenched your thighs hearing that word escape his lips. “I like your teasing a little too much, actually. But making me imagine you wearing all these pretty things only to point out that I can’t have you the way I want? I have to admit, that was pretty mean.”

“Are you challenging me? Then I guess I need to step up my game to really get back at you.”

“Alright then, let’s make a deal. If you fail to make me angry by tonight, you have to go on a date with me. What do you say?”

You couldn’t stop the smirk forming on the corner of your lips. “Deal. You know, now I kinda understand why you keep bothering me. It’s actually fun trying to get you annoyed.” This time you weren’t lying.

He smiled back at you. “Glad we’re on the same page about one thing at least. So, any other torturous shopping that we need to do today? An adult store, maybe, since you said you like to take care of things yourself?”

“Nice try. I actually have a table reserved for later today, so I’m gonna have to go home and get ready. I wanted to go alone and have some me-time, but since I don’t plan on losing that challenge, I guess now you gotta come with me.”

He stopped in his tracks. “Wait a second,”he said and put the back of his palm on your forehead as if checking for a fever, “now it sounds like you’re the one asking me out. What happened? Are you okay?” he asked in an overly dramatic way. Oh great, now he was back to being the town circus.

“It’s not a date, silly. Hopefully, it’s gonna be the worst dinner of your life, so I won’t have to see your face ever again.”

“You do know that I could just not show up and make you lose the bet, right?”

“If you do that, you won’t get my number. So no way to receive your prize.” Besides, you thought to yourself, wasn’t tonight already a date in itself? There was no way he would skip on that, or at least so you hoped. “See you at 6.” you said as you walked away, leaving him behind.

By now your only desire was to get him totally whipped for you. He might have seen through your intentions already, but you couldn’t care less. The fights and arguments that were real in the beginning had now become an act, some sort of game to see which one of you would give in first. And you weren’t backing down until you had him completely wrapped around your finger. This year’s V-day turned out to be a lot more fun than you initially thought.

After getting home, you took your sweet time showering and making yourself as pretty as possible. Having drenched yourself in perfume and strawberry scented body lotion, you put on the new lingerie and a red dress that complimented your figure. You did some minimal, but flattering make-up and took a good look in the mirror. You looked good enough to eat. Exactly what you wanted.

By the time you arrived at the restaurant, he was already waiting for you, and you realized he had probably tried just as hard as you to look hot. And he had definitely done a great job. His hair was pushed back and the suit jacket he was wearing highlighted his broad shoulders and tall figure. You wanted him to push you against a wall right then and there.

“Are you sure you’re not made out of sugar? You look so good, I’m afraid that if I touch you, you’d melt under my fingers.”

“You wish. I don’t even get a hi, you start our conversation with a lame pick-up line? This evening is going to be even more boring than I thought.” you said rolling your eyes.

“It’s good to see you again too. Come on, let’s order quickly, I’m starving.” he said as he was already looking through the menu.

After this first exchange, the rest of the dinner actually went on pretty normally. Without realizing, you had gotten comfortable with each other and stopped arguing altogether. Now you were just chatting about whatever came to mind, enjoying your meals and each other’s company. However, you did notice his eyes lingering a little too long on your exposed neck and chest, which you did your best to bring forward as much as you could when you moved around. You were hyper aware of his gaze on every move you made and you loved the attention he was giving you. You felt like you were the only woman in the room for him, the only one that deserved his attention. You suddenly remembered you were supposed to get him angry, but you weren’t sure you didn’t want a second date after all. However, you felt the need to say something about it.

“Look at all these couples enjoying their romantic dinner, and then there’s us. Here for the sole purpose of annoying each other.”

“If that was the purpose, I’d call this an epic fail.” he said with a smile and took a sip of his gin tonic,”So you still don’t want to admit that this is, in fact, a date?”

“Why would it be one, when we haven’t done anything out of the ordinary? We are just two people eating out together.”

“Good thing the evening isn’t over, then. Great choice of restaurant, by the way. But even though the food was amazing, I’d still prefer eating you out.”

His bluntness caught you off guard, and you let the glass you were previously holding down on the table with a little more force than intended. From the impact, your drink splashed everywhere, including on yourself.

You moved a bit of the fabric of your dress away so you could wipe the martini drops that had just spilled on your chest, which uncovered the strap and the top part of your bra for a few seconds. You didn’t think much of it, but heard him swallow loudly. When you raised your eyes back to meet his, he was looking at you like he wanted to undress you with his eyes.

“You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Did what on purpose?” you asked confused.

“Don’t act so innocent, you know exactly what I’m saying.”

“No idea what you’re talking about. Anyway, care for dessert? You need some sugar in your system, you seem to be turning grim again.”

“If by dessert you mean you, then I’ll gladly accept. You have enough sugar to keep me up for a long time.” he said with a smirk.

“Oh god, can you cut the disgusting jokes out? You make me sick.”

“You’ll be even more disappointed to find out they’re not jokes. By the way,” he leaned over the table so he could bring his face a little closer to yours, “we’ve almost finished our drinks and you still haven’t made me angry. Time is ticking.”

You fell silent for a couple of seconds, and played with your necklace while deep in thought. You were done playing this game. You wanted him, and you wanted him tonight. You wanted to blame it on the alcohol, but ever since you stepped foot in that place all you had been imagining were his veiny hands all over your body, how pretty his long fingers were and how much you wanted them inside you. He hadn’t even touched you once, but your panties were feeling damp already just by staring at his hands or seeing him clenching his jaw. You hadn’t noticed that your fidgeting with your necklace had caught his attention and he was now practically staring at your boobs without any hint of shame in his eyes. Your chest was heaving up and down as his eyes set your skin ablaze and your thoughts ran wild. Of course his gaze didn’t miss your heavy breathing. His fist was clenched on his glass and the veins on his arm protruded even more than usual. Your brain was so intoxicated with him that it completely forgot how to form sentences, leaving him without a reply. He leaned closer to you over the table and all but whispered.

“Just say the words, and I’ll give you whatever you want. All you have to do is say it.”

You hesitated, questioning whether you should swallow your pride or not. You stared into his deep brown eyes, glistening with lust, and admired his plump, slightly parted lips, silently pleading for you to stop this stupid game and finally admit what you’re feeling for each other. He was done playing, and so were you.

“It’s finally time for those eclairs.”

A knowing smile spread on his face, as if he had just won the lottery.

The ride to your place was awfully silent. You felt like you could cut the tension in the atmosphere with a knife. Sitting near him in the back of the cab and just feeling his presence so close to you kept your skin burning up during the entire ride. He still hadn't touched you in the slightest, not even on your hand, and at this point you thought it was intentional just so you'd become desperate for him. It was working. It felt like the drive was taking ages, so you decided to have some fun and tease him a little.

You slowly slid your hand over your legs, starting from your knees and going up towards the hem of your dress, pulling it up ever so slightly. He noticed your movements instantly, and his eyes snapped to you. Now that you were assured he was watching, your hand traveled further under your dress, carefully so it doesn't reveal too much, and started running your own fingers across your damp panties.

His eyes widened, and you saw his adam's apple move when he swallowed a lump in his throat. "What do you think you're doing?" he whispered.

"What does it look like to you? I am an independent woman. Since you have not laid a hand on me all day, I'm doing it myself."

"You're an impatient one, aren't you?" you maintained his gaze but didn't stop your actions, slipping a finger underneath your underwear and whimpering ever so quietly, enough for only him to hear. You were determined to bring him down.

Like you had just pressed a button, his body reacted to your sounds faster than expected. The vein on his hand twitched as he quickly grabbed your wrist and held it in place.

"If you don't stop that, I’ll make sure you have trouble walking tomorrow." his words sent a shiver down your spine. With that, he firmly pulled your hand away and intertwined his fingers with yours, as if preventing you from causing more trouble. You decided to obey him, for now.

After a couple of minutes, you were arriving at your place. He followed you silently into the building and into the small elevator, where you were met with another crisis. He looked like he tried really hard to restrain himself as he leaned with his back and head against the mirror. He was looking at you through furrowed brows and hooded eyes, and you wondered why did he put himself through this struggle, when he could’ve had you right then and there. Pretending to check your mascara in the mirror behind him, you placed one hand on his chest and leaned over him, your face dangerously close to his neck, making sure your exposed cleavage pressed against him in the process. You didn’t care how obvious it was, he was clearly enjoying it. He did nothing but watch you, but his sigh and accelerating breath rate were giving him away. As soon as you reached your level, you instantly shot out of the elevator and got to your door in record time.

The moment you set foot into the apartment and closer the door behind you, any control that you had before, just vanished into thin air.

“Fucking finally”. He wasted no time in pressing you against the wall, both hands holding the sides of your face while he kissed you with all the pent up frustration from that day. You could feel his whole body onto you and yet you wanted more, your hands grabbing fistfuls of his shirt and tugging at it in an attempt to bring him even closer. His lips were soft but aggressive at the same time, the kiss neither too intense nor too slow, earning chills all over your spine the first time his warm tongue entered your mouth. It was still not enough, so you took over and laced your fingers at the back of his head, pulling on his hair while pushing yourself into him. His hands started traveling down your body, gripping your waist and hips with force as he pulled you even closer, making you feel his erection against you in the process.

Out of breath, you broke the kiss to take a good look at him in this state. He was looking at you through glossy, hooded eyes, with his plump lips parted and glistening from the intensity of your kiss. He looked so hot, you realized you might not make it to the bedroom.

Closing in the distance once again, his hands went to squeeze your ass through your dress as he started placing wet kisses down the side of your neck, painfully slowly, sending shivers all over your spine. You lifted a leg up to snake around his own, as if to invite his hands to stop wasting time and get under your skirt already.

“You’re surprisingly gentle for someone who’s been trying to get into my pants all day.” you felt him squeeze your ass harder, and he suddenly bit the soft skin under your ear and sucked on it, earning a gasp from you.

He didn’t reply, but instead slid his hand up your thigh and ran his fingers over your soaking panties.

“And you’re surprisingly wet for someone who supposedly hates me.” he teasingly rubbed the tip of his finger on your clothed clit, making you whine in response. It was almost as if the fabric wasn’t there at all, given how thin it was in the first place. “What did you buy this pretty underwear for, just to ruin it later?”

“Since when do you care about my lingerie?”

“I thought you wanted me to, since you brought me with you to that store and even asked for my opinion.” He pushed your panties to the side and properly coated his fingers with your juices. “You were such a dirty little slut for doing that to me.” his words shot straight to your core.

“Me, dirty? That little head of yours has a lot of issues. It’s your own fault for liking me in the first place.” you teased.

Hearing that, he pushed two fingers into your hole and you moaned. “You can talk shit all you want, but your body can’t lie about how much you want me, princess.” He pulled his hand away from your core, and took his own fingers, now coated with your essence, into his mouth, licking them clean. “Now be a good girl and take this dress off for me.” he said, pulling away from you.

Not wanting to torture yourself any longer, you obeyed him, getting rid of your dress as quickly as possible. As he finally fully saw you in the pretty underwear, he eyed you from head to toe, as if he was looking at his prey, swallowing loudly. “Y/n, you’re so fucking gorgeous.”

You pushed him back and led him to the couch, making him sit down. You quickly straddled his lap, making sure your boobs were right in his face as you grabbed the hair at the back of his head and brought your mouth to his ear, licking a stripe up from the side of his neck, reaching his earlobe. He shivered under you, and you started unbuttoning his shirt, while both his hands stroked over your boobs, touching your nipples and lightly pinching and twisting them over the thin material of the bra. The sensation was spreading into your entire body, making you moan right into his ear. You nibbled onto his earlobe, and he sighed loudly, grabbing your ass and pulling you on top of his dick, grinding into you. Your fingers ran over his now exposed chest and down to his belt, trying to get it undone. He grabbed your hands and undid it himself, and you stood up so he could get rid of his pants.

Instead of sitting back on his lap, you dropped to your knees in between his legs and pulled his underwear down. His cock looked so red and hard, it seemed almost painful, and made your mouth water. You wanted to torture him some more though, so you stuck your tongue out and slowly ran it up from the base to his swollen tip, all while looking directly into his eyes. His eyebrows were furrowed and he was biting his lower lip so hard, as if to keep him from making any sound. You were going to change that. You swirled your tongue around the tip, collecting the drops of precum, before taking him whole into your mouth. As you started bobbing your head, you made sure to take a little more of him each time, pushing your own limit gradually, looking up at him from time to time. “Fuck, you look so pretty like this. You’re taking me so well.” he said, trying to keep himself from forming any other sounds, and you wondered why wasn’t he letting go already. You wanted to make him a moaning mess. One of your free hands started playing with his balls, as you ran your nails across his thigh with the other one. Going a little deeper, his cock hit the back of your throat, and you paused for a second, swallowing around him, which earned a long, breathy moan from him. There, that was your reward. You continued taking him as deep as you could, looking up at him with wide eyes. This was his breaking point, as he couldn’t control his sounds anymore, his mouth was agape, letting out small grunts and whimpers now and then, and you felt his hips struggling to keep still. As the ache in your pussy was getting unbearable because of your actions, your own hand came to play with your clit to get some sort of release, moaning around his cock.

He didn’t miss this, as suddenly, his hand flew to your hair and he held you still. “Don’t you dare touch yourself. Get up” he said in a demanding voice. He followed you up himself, and completely slid his shirt and underwear off of him, then laid down on the carpet. “I want you to sit on my face. Let me have my dessert and enjoy you like you deserve.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. After discarding your panties, you placed your knees on either side of his head and carefully lowered your cunt closer to him, but he grabbed your ass and aggressively pulled you onto his mouth, making you gasp and grip the couch beside you for support. The feeling of his wet and warm tongue against you was making your thighs weak. He started by licking a long stripe across your folds, then alternated between sucking at your clit, drawing patterns with his tongue across your sensitive spot at different paces and intensities. Your sounds and whimpers were a mess, and you could feel your orgasm building with each second. He was eating you out like a starved man, face buried completely under your pussy, and the view was only contributing to your arousal. One of his hands snaked up to your nipple and started playing with it, adding to the sensation. When he suddenly applied more pressure to a certain angle, you thought you were gonna lose your mind. “Fuck, h/n, right there, please, don’t stop” was what you wanted to say, but you weren’t sure your words came out coherently. Either way, he got the message, and a few seconds later, you were coming undone on his tongue, letting out a few high-pitched moans as he helped you ride out your high.

After regaining composure, you stood up to let him breathe. His lips and chin were glistening from your juices, and he wiped them off with the back of his hand. “That was delicious. You’re a fucking goddess, did you know that?” he said as he stood himself up, grabbed your face and kissed you with force.

“Just fuck me already.”

“You don’t need to tell me twice.” he said as he pushed you against your table, having you lie down on it. He quickly grabbed a condom from his jeans and rolled it on his still painfully hard cock. Grabbing your legs and holding them on each side of him, he rubbed the tip of his member over your clit a few times before fully pushing it into your tight hole, swearing in the process. He wasted no time before moving, slowly at first to let you adjust, then suddenly slammed his hips into you with force, earning a loud moan from you. “Fuck, do that again, please” you said, already feeling your second orgasm starting to build up. He thrusted into you harder and deeper, filling the room with your sounds everytime his skin met yours. The way he filled you up was absolutely delicious, clouding your vision and making you lose yourself in your pleasure as he was hitting all the right spots inside you.

“Ever since your brought me into that store, all I could think of was fucking you in your pretty lingerie, imagining how your boobs would bounce up and down while I pound into you like this.” you took his hand and brought it to your lips, silently asking him to let you suck onto his fingers. “You don’t know how much of a torture that wa- fuck” you took his long and pretty fingers into your mouth and swirled your tongue around them, mimicking the way you sucked him off earlier and watching him lose his ability to speak as his mouth hung open. “H/n, harder, don’t stop, I’m going to come.” you said in a desperate attempt to get him to shut up and concentrate. Motivated by your words, he increased his pace, and after a few more hard and sloppy thrusts, you reached your second orgasm, soon followed by his own. His whole body twitched as he came down from his high, both of you panting, and exhausted.

Pulling out of you, he quickly discarded the condom and took you into his arms to place both you and him comfortably on the couch.

“That was fucking hot” he said, still holding you in his arms while you were catching your breaths.

“Yeah. I think I might hate you a little less after this.” you said and you both laughed.

After coming back to your senses, you got up and went straight to the kitchen. A few seconds later, you came back holding the box he bought you from the french bakery, handing him an eclair.

“I knew why I saved those chocolate eclairs for later. They taste better after you’ve been craving them all day, don’t you think?”

He just smiled in response. “You might be right. By the way, I won. It seems like you’ll be drinking ice americanos again, after all.”

#optional bias smut #optional bias x reader #optional bias scenarios #optional bias #oneus smut #ateez smut #bts smut #skz smut #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #keonhee smut #kpop fanfic #the boyz smut

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avengerscompound · 4 years

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The Surrogate - Chapter 11

The Surrogate: A Clintasha Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing: Clint Barton x Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader

Word Count: 1868

Rating: E

Warnings: Pregnancy, sex talk

Synopsis: A freak end of the world incident leads to meeting your two best friends, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff. While your friendship with the two Avengers is anything but conventional, they are your all-time favorite people. When you find out that Clint and Natasha want to start a family but have exhausted all their options, you realize your powerset might allow you to give them what they want. Having your best friends’ baby might seem like a good idea on paper, but when you are as close as you, Clint, and Natasha are, will doing something so intimate mean feelings get a little mixed up?

Chapter 11

Living with Clint and Natasha was the best worst thing you’d ever done. You loved being around them. They were fun and hilarious and they doted on you. While your morning sickness was kicking your ass, there was always one of them there with a cool compress, rubbing your back. They kept saltines and ginger ale on hand. They made sure you took your anti-nausea medication and your pregnancy vitamins. They were even pulling in favors from friends. Wanda had made up several batches of different soups she used to cook with her mother that you could eat with an upset stomach, and Pepper dropped off a few things that had helped with her when she was pregnant with Morgan.

As your morning sickness eased up at the end of the first trimester, you were hit by a sudden wave of energy. They moved on to doing midnight runs to get that very weirdly specific thing you were craving and offering you foot and back rubs every time you even remotely complained.

That would all be fine - more than fine. It was amazing and they were amazing. Only you couldn’t pretend that you weren’t feeling the way you were feeling about them anymore. You’d fallen head over heels for the both of them. Not to mention that your hormones being all out of whack meant you could go from being horny as hell to in tears in sixty seconds flat. Any time you thought about how you felt about them you were just as likely to want to jump them as to hide and cry about how terrible a person you were for not being able to get those feelings in check.

“Alright,” Clint said, coming in with a stack of different boxes and containers and putting them on the counter. “We have pizza, we have lo mein, we have fried chicken and biscuits, we have chocolate eclairs. Did I forget anything?”

“Whatchamacallit,” you said, sitting forward in the chair.

Clint fished around in the pocket of his coat and pulled out the candy bar. “One ‘Whatchamacallit’,” he said, miming slamming it down on the table.

“Thank you, Clint. You’re the best,” you said and grabbed the container of noodles and the chopsticks.

“You know it,” he said, getting a slice of the pizza.

Natasha came into the room with drinks and took a seat next to you. “Your cravings have been off the charts lately.”

“Yeah, I read they don’t really know why they happen, but I just need all the sugar and salt,” you said.

“I read it had to do with lacking dopamine,” Natasha said.

“I feel that,” Clint said, raising his hand to you. “High five!”

You laughed and looked at his hand. “I’m not high fiving your depression, Clint.”

“Damn it,” Clint said, putting his hand back down. “That’s not gonna help it.”

“You feeling okay though?” Natasha asked. “Feeling down or … you know?”

“Honestly, yeah, I feel good,” you admitted. “I got a huge burst of energy when I stopped getting morning sickness. It’s like I’m running at 110%. I really like living with you guys. The only thing…” You trailed off and shook your head.

“What is it?” Clint asked. “You need a softer mattress? More pillows?”

You shook your head. “No, it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

Clint looked at you confused. Like he couldn’t imagine a possible reason why you’d keep a secret from him. It made sense. You didn’t normally keep things from him. There were days when you told him pregnancy stuff in such detail that he asked you to stop sharing.

“You know you can tell us anything, right?” Natasha said. “We’ll do whatever we can for you.”

“That’s the problem,” you mumbled, shoving a huge mouthful of noodles into your mouth.

“What? Is it that we’re smothering you?” Natasha asked, putting her hand on your leg. “You can tell us. I know I’ve been a little overbearing, but I’m still expecting the other shoe to drop.”

“It’s not that. You’ve been fine, I know what your head has been like. It’s nothing… no...I guess it is… you know what...never mind…” you babbled. You got up grabbing the box of noodles. “I’m going to go eat on the roof.”

As you hurried out of the room you noticed Natasha and Clint give each other a look just before you closed the door. You went straight up to the roof of the building. The building that the Avengers lived in was set below most of the others, so the view of the compound was obscured by the large white office building. It was set right on the water, and if you sat looking out at the Huson it was just the river and forest for miles and it was almost like it was just a normal apartment block with amazing views.

You perched on the edge of the building, one hand cradling your small belly while you ate the noodles. You’d only been up there for fifteen minutes when Clint appeared behind you.

“You forgot your ‘Whatchamacallit’,” he said, sitting beside you and putting the candy bar on the ledge between the two of you.

“Thanks, Clint,” you said. “Sorry, I’m being weird. Nat’s not too worried is she?”

“She’s a little worried. But she also gets you might be a little hormonal right now,” Clint said.

“Clint!” You squawked.

He laughed and nudged you gently. “It’s nice up here, huh?” You nodded and he rubbed your back. “I always feel like I see everything better when I’m up here. You know what I mean?” He said. You nodded again and he lowered his hand, resting on it on the edge of the building as he swung his legs over the edge. “The thing is sex, right? You’re super horny? I read that some women get like that when they’re pregnant.”

You whined and nodded. “Yes. It’s like half of what I think of. Then food. Then just everything else.”

“And we’ve had plenty of sex, so you know we’d help you out. So I’m guessing you didn’t tell us, because you’ve caught feelings and you think the sex will just make them stronger?” He asked.

It was annoying how much Clint picked up on. He acted like an idiot, but he never missed a single thing. You nodded and picked up the candy, tearing it open and biting into it, hoping that the chocolate-coated peanut wafers would distract you from the other things you were feeling.

“Are you in love with Nat?” Clint asked. “Cause… I get it. And… I can share.”

You squeezed your eyes closed and shook your head. “It’s both of you.”

Clint started laughing. “Then what’s the problem?”

“Clint,” you said, hoping that the pain wasn’t as evident in your voice as you felt. “I don’t just want something casual. I’m falling in love with you both, and I’m doing this -” you gestured to your stomach “-so you guys can be parents. It’s all complicated and you’re not going to have time to start a new thing. And my hormones are all messed up. The timing is off and … and…”

Clint took your hand and gently squeezed it. “Babe,” he said, gently. “Nat and I have been referring to you as our girlfriend since before you offered to have our baby.”

You looked up at him with your brow furrowed. “You have?”

“Yeah, we have. For a while we thought you felt the same way, but then you started dating and you’d stop sleeping with us,” he explained. “We just… didn’t think you could do the polyamory thing. You’d only ever sleep with us when you weren’t dating anyone else and when you did sleep with us it was always just when you were super desperate and you kept it very casual. So we called you our girlfriend to each other, but like… you were our casual girlfriend. And we knew one day we’d have to lose you. But if you’re saying you want us? We already consider you ours.”

“What about the baby?” You asked.

Clint let out a breath and tapped his fingers on the back of your hand. “I guess there’s a lot to talk about and work out there. ‘Cause if you really want in - properly in and not just the casual side thing that you kinda already have been doing the whole time - then you’re gonna be a mommy too, not just the best aunt a kid could possibly have.” He paused and ruffled his hand through his hair. “But the way I figure, if you do want that, it’s kinda perfect, isn’t it? I mean, there’s three of us. It’s got mine and Nat’s genes and you’re the one carrying it. We’re all connected to the little peanut.”

Your heart has started hammering. It felt like you were sitting on the precipice of something good. But you worried that it was just an illusion and if you plunged in it would be the end of everything.

“What if it doesn’t work out?” You asked.

Clint laughed softly. “Oh, babe,” he said gently. “Literally every day, multiple times a day I ask myself that. I wake up in the morning and think, ‘what if today’s the day Nat realizes what a piece of shit I am, and I lose her’. And I get to work and think, ‘what If today Steve realizes that an archer is a ridiculous thing to have in his superhero team’. Nat will look at me a certain way, or get frustrated with me and I will be sure that’s it. I ruined it. I keep going because so far no one has worked it out I’m a fraud. And she makes me happy. And you make me happy too. So if you want to try and fake it with me. I’d really like that.”

Your heart broke for him and you wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his neck. You didn’t know if it was just that you were hormonal and a little over-emotional, but you started crying freely, your tears wetting Clint’s shirt. He wrapped his arms about you and held you steady as you cried against him.

As you started to get control of yourself Clint rubbed your back slowly. “Is that a ‘yes’?” He whispered.

You nodded and he tilted your chin up to look at him. His blue eyes looked down at you in that same soft and loving way he looked at Natasha. Like she hung the stars in the sky just for him. You leaned up, your lips barely parted and he bridged the difference, kissing you deeply but tenderly.

He pulled back slowly and you chased his lips, reluctant to let the kiss end because as soon as it did, everything would be different, and different didn’t always mean better. “You wanna come downstairs and talk to Nat? Maybe eat the rest of that food I brought you?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

He got up and offered you his hand. You stood, taking it and he led you back downstairs to the apartment he shared with Natasha.

// NEXT

#clint barton #natasha romanoff #clint barton x natasha romanoff x reader #clint barton x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #clint barton x natasha romanoff #clintasha #clintasha x reader #hawkeye #black widow #hawkeye fanfic #black widow fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #pregnancy #the surrogate

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annoyingloverbear · 4 years

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DAMIAN WAYNE X READER HEADCANNONS

Cooking with Damian Wayne includes

Ahh yes the great bratty Wayne.

The youngest Wayne brother, who is an excellent swordsman, drove a car since the age of 6, the master of hand-to-hand combat, has an incredibly confident/playboy personality...........is insecure of his cooking skills.

Not that he's bad at it, Talia just never considered it as a "manly" skill and didn't think it was important enough to teach him that.

However now when he's all grown up (we're talking about age >16) he has learnt to cook with the help of Alfred and a 5-star Michelin Chef.

Never has really cooks for/with you because he is not sure if his cooking is good enough to please you (but I'm sure his dishes are soo delicious that they might even send the Joker to heaven)

When it comes to eating, usually eats whatever you cook for him (if you can) or orders takeout. Maybe even calls Alfred sometimes to cook for the both of you.

Usually compliments you when you cook, even if it's inedible.

"Beloved, those cookies look delicious. May I take one?"______"Damian, those are burnt you can't eat them."________"But my love anything you cook is nothing less than divine."

Until that unfortunate day of your lady life comes and you start to suffer for a whole week for another month again.

That day you wake up at 3 in the morning and look through YouTube. AND DAMN DID THAT CREAM PUFF TOWER LOOKED GOOD!!!

You gently shake your sleeping boyfriend (who was dead asleep with half of his 165 pound on you) and ruffle his hair until he yawns and stretches his arms above him like a cat while muttering softly in Arabic.

"What is it my beloved?"______"I'm hungry" ______"Then we have some eclairs that Alfred made for you if you ever wake up hungry in the middle of the night like this."______"No! I don't want that! I want something else! Can you cook it for me?" ______ "Believe me when I say I'm bad at cooking my Dear. My cooking can't possibly satisfy your cravings."______"But how would I know if you're good at cooking anything or not when you have never cooked for me? Could you please cook this recipe for me?"______ "Love-"______ "Pretty please?"

After a lot of coaxing and puppy-eye-attacks he started making the cream puff tower for you at 3 in the morning.

You watched as he made the custard, piped out the puffs, baked them, filled them up with custard, made the sticky caramel , and piled them one by one to make a tower of cream puffs.

You were too awed by the giant dessert in front of you to notice Damian fumbling his thumbs. He was extremely nervous if you'd like it or not.

"Woah."______"I know it's not much but-"______"NOT MUCH!!! DAME THIS IS A CREAM PUFF TOWER!! IT'S LIKE THE MOST DIFFICULT DESSERT IN THE WHOLE OF-"______"Okay shush! We don't want the neighbours to be angry at us."______"Nah! They won't be. If they are we'll just give them a piece of this masterpiece. Can I try it now?"______"Go ahead. It's made just for you after all."

After trying it out, BOI were you mad at him. Not because it was bad, because he cooked just like Gordon Ramsay (without the screaming ofcourse) and never told you.

"Beloved I was just not sure if you would like it-"______"Like it?! I LOVE IT!! All this time I cooked for you and here you were an entire chef this whole time-" ______"So you're not mad?"______"Oh I AM mad. But you have to pay with something to me for my humiliation."______"What?"______"Please just cook for me the rest of your life."

After this incident you never had to cook the rest of your life when you had a 5-star Michelin Chef with you at home.

His self-esteem charts would blow off the charts. He would brag about himself so much (lol when did he not😂) that Jason was itching to get his hands inside his throat and pull out his voice box so he wouldn't talk anymore.

You were happy that now your boyfriend cooks for you and now that he's more confident you would just listen to his endless bragging while cuddling with him.

Requests and I'll make a part 2😃

#damian wayne #damian wayne fluff #damian wayne x reader #damian x reader #dc headcanon #damian wayne x y/n #damian wayne headcannon #older damian wayne x reader #older!damian wayne x reader #older!damian x reader

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wordynerdygurl · 4 years

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Sticky, Sweet

Author’s Note: I’m so pleased to tell you that this is the first of my 1000 Followers Requests! Again, how do 1000 people like me enough to read my words? I don’t know!! But I love you all! Also, bless my beta - @sammy-jo1977 ... she lets me drag her to hell and back, and goes willingly. Lots of Love, lady! Pairing: Loki x Female Reader, appearances from many of the Avengers Tower residents Summary: This was requested by the amazing, adorable and always supportive @alexakeyloveloki ... As I hit my milestone, she was having a birthday, and this, I hope will be a gift she’ll enjoy. You deserve it girl! The request was: One with Loki and a Curvy Reader where she works in the Tower, maybe the canteen, and people are mean to her and Loki likes her for some odd reason and... smut ensues. I did make some changes, but I hope you’ll enjoy it either way, @alexakeyloveloki !! Warnings: This one might give you a toothache! There’s smut, but it’s sweet!

“Uh, yes. Might I trouble you for a chocolate croissant and… a cappuccino, large, please.”

You knew the owner of that voice without raising your eyes. Today he was wearing charcoal grey slacks with straight creases all the way down. A shirt, starched, bright white, with rolled back sleeves revealing the articulate length of his forearms. All of his dark locks were gathered over his open collar in a low man bun, which is something you had laughed at other men for doing. Somehow, the tall, trim man in front of you was making it work in a way that made your mouth water.

Flashing him a megawatt smile, full of promise, “My pleasure! Is there anything else I can get for you?”

“No. Thank you, though.”, warm and caramel sweet, his response made you melt.

Clearing your throat, struggling to maintain some sense of composure, “A name… for the order?”

“Loki… that’s L, O, K, I…”, his own grin widening at the request.

You knew his name. He’d been coming to your little dessert cart for months now and every time you asked, just like you did for all of your customers. And each time he spelled out the letters for you, as if you were taking his order for the first time. Handing back change only for him to drop it into the tip jar, you let your eyes linger over Loki just a moment more, enjoying the view.

Most of the visitors to Avengers Tower paid you little to no attention. Outside of offering a cup of joe and a giant cookie, you had no bearing on the day to day business of the super hero syndicate, and that was just fine by you. Everyone else? They all had important things to do. Meetings and appointments were near constant as apparently saving the world took a lot of planning. And, thankfully, a lot of coffee, danish and muffins.

Of all your customers, the actual, swear to God heroes were the most colorful. They were also the most loyal of your clients, stopping in at least daily, although, there were occasions where you would see Wanda two or three times in a day. Especially if you had made those little mille-feuille stacks that reminded her of home.

Thor would buy out your stash of jelly donuts, to the chagrin of the office workers in line behind him, but then divvy them up as a way of apologizing. Ms. Romanoff had a tendency to whisper her order, lest anyone realize her secret desire for a sinfully sweet White Chocolate Mocha with whipped cream. Captain Rogers? His routine was the most straight-forward. Black coffee, ma’am, Blueberry muffin, thank you so much.

Loki, from the start, had been different. Unlike Mr. Stark, Loki looked you in the eye when placing his order. He never seemed distracted by the technology buzzing around or the high ranking officials clustered in these hallowed halls. Loki also didn’t order 12 shots of espresso, steamed skim milk, no foam, and one donut hole. No, that was Tony to a t.

But Loki? This giant guy, with broad shoulders and narrow hips, always ordered your daily special. Frilly pink cupcakes, jam filled eclairs, fruity hand pies, Loki had tasted them all. And he still turned up, day after day, eager and kind. That had to mean something, right?

Honestly, it was the pinnacle of your day when, looking up from the grinder, you’d see him towering majestically over the office drones all in a row. Knowing that smooth voice would soon be speaking to you, even if it was just to get a snack on the run, was almost enough. Almost.

Letting your gaze linger after Loki’s retreating figure, you got lost in a daydream, one where you were making Loki coffee in your kitchen. His lengthy legs tucked under your tiny table, a tray of fresh cookies in front of him as he read, sometimes with his shirt on… sometimes without. Feeling your cheeks warm up at the image, you shook your head, ready to refocus on the caffeine craving customers still in line.

As closing time drew near, you began the daily task of cleaning up your cart. Sweeping, wiping, sterilizing, washing, drying. There was a rhythm to it all and you often found yourself entrained in the work, as usually there were few distractions at this time of day.

“Excuse me?”

Spinning, surprised, you barely kept hold of the carafe in your hands as you spotted Ms. Pepper Potts standing at your kiosk, “Oh gosh! I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there!”

Waving away your worry, Pepper took a moment to introduce herself properly before getting down to business, “I was wondering if you had ever considered catering before? You were highly recommended by a colleague and I am looking for assistance with an event we're hosting in a few weeks. What I really need is someone to help with an after hours sort of thing.”

Your heart leapt in your chest, thumping wildly, threatening to bust out of your chest. Now, you’d be lying if you said that expanding your business wasn’t part of the dream. Always hopeful that your little cafe cart could somehow be expanded into a little sweet shop or bistro bakery, you had been hard at work for the last two years, slinging lattes and refining recipes until the right moment arrived.

When you said as much to Ms. Potts, her gracious smile lit up, “Then this, my friend, is that moment.”

Details were exchanged, pricing negotiated, plans put in place. In ten days you were going to be providing The Avengers and their guests with pastries, cookies, coffee and tea. There was a select menu so that you wouldn't be running around like crazy, which would make prep time easy, but Pepper had told you to be creative. In short, you were getting your shot and the excitement of that put you on cloud nine.

As you had arranged with Ms. Potts, while the guests attended one of Mr. Stark’s lavish galas downtown, you were given access to the Avengers Suite near the top floors of the tower. Seeing the building, well past your normal 5:00 pm, was energizing. Getting to sneak a peek at where the most important people working here spent their days was overwhelming, but you were giddy at the prospect.

In a sweet spot, just inside the expansive glass doors which led to the sky rise patio, you set up your display. Feeling pretty proud of yourself, you only had to wait a few minutes before the elevator dinged on the first arrivals, including the host and hostess for the night. "Here we go!", whispering to yourself, you took an anxiously excited breath.

It was hard not to get wrapped up in the glitz of it all. Tony Stark, wearing a plum colored tuxedo, had his Rolex draped arm around Pepper. She was stunning in her black column gown, purple jewels at her throat and ears, the perfect counterpoint to Tony’s ensemble. You struggled not to stare.

More people filtered in, some went to the bar, where champagne popped regularly. A few grabbed frosty glasses of fresh beer. And for a time you thought you were invisible among all the glamour around you. Honestly, you were surrounded by the type of people who graced magazine covers and had in depth chats with Oprah. That wasn’t you by a long shot.

Then, of course was the difference in your shape and size compared to the elegant group assembled for the evening. You certainly weren’t as stately as Ms. Potts, nor as thin as Ms. Romanoff because she was trimmer in hip and bust. Carol, stately and graceful, was a sheet of well hewed muscle. All of them shone tonight, regal and lovely, while you wore your best black pants and white button down, the uniform of catering professionals world wide.

Chewing the inside of your cheek, temping your coffee pot, your mind churned. There was no shaking the idea that even though you had been invited here, hired to be here, you were woefully out of place. And just as your confidence was at its lowest, you heard it… or rather, him.

"Um… yes. May I have… well… I don't know what to have. Normally you have something special prepared."

Even over the din of chatter and softly played music you heard his baritone register. A little flustered, disarmingly charming, Loki’s buttercream smile triggered your own. Laughing, lifting a small tray towards Loki, "I am keeping it simple tonight. These here are individual peach melba pies, topped with homemade whipped cream."

"And, what’s that?" Looking like a little kid, ready to tear into a birthday present, Loki's face lit up with anticipation of what you might be hiding under the cover of a chafing dish.

"Mocha mini-cheesecakes, or-" Here you lifted the silver lid of your best party dish, "-my grandmother's chocolate chip cookies! What would you like, Loki?"

Hearing his name in your lilting voice, Loki couldn't avoid the hot blush that rolled over him, turning his cheeks pink. As if your delicious snacks weren't enticing enough, the way your shirt buttons could barely contain the bounty of your bosom made Loki's hunger real in a different way. It was true that Thor had plied him with a great deal of Asgardian mead at the gala, even as the others drank up the less potent Midgardian spirits, all getting well past tipsy.

And maybe that's why he felt so bold, flirting with you casually, teasing you about your treats. Also, he was shamelessly ogling your rounded ass in those tight black pants as you bent to retrieve a napkin. Deep down, Loki longed to know if you tasted as sweet as your sugary confections. Would you be slick like syrup? Sticky like cinnamon buns? Dark and delicious like chocolate fudge?

Shaking those long locks, which you couldn't help noticing were down and free tonight, Loki was struggling to decide among your snacks. If his thoughts were lustful, your own weren't too far behind, because it was hard not to appreciate the fine figure in front of you. At some point Loki had shucked his tuxedo jacket and the slim black bow tie that accompanied it. Again his sleeves were pushed up to his elbows making him casual and cool, red cheeked and rambunctious. Never had Loki seemed so at ease.

There was virtually no one else around, most of the remaining people were clustered by Clint at the piano singing show tunes, oblivious to you and Loki. Looking from left to right, leaning in conspiratorially, "Ya know… I could let you have one of each, then you wouldn't have to decide."

Those dark brows arching, bright eyes smiling shrewdly, "You'd do that… for me?"

“That and more.” It tumbled out of your mouth unbidden, your eyes widening in surprise at your own admission.

Leaning against your table, a lascivious smile on his face, “Do tell.”

And in the low light of the Avengers’ loft, with the soft smell of sugar filling the air, you felt yourself drawn to Loki’s aura. Biting into your bottom lip, looking at him through your thick lashes, “Um… well… I could make you a little snack bag. Ya know for later tonight…”

“Later tonight… I really like the sound of that.” And to his unending surprise, Loki really did. Maybe he’d find out about your favorite flavors in the dark of night, under the covers in his bed. And if not, if he was somehow mistaken about your interest in him, then Loki would welcome some little cake that would make him think of you while he sat in his solitary room, brooding over you.

He shouldn’t have worried. Genuinely smiling, Loki was beyond grateful to see the same look of desire reflected in your own face. As you busied yourself packing up the little box of selected snacks for the sweet toothed stud, a voice called out, "Lokes!! Get over here!! Thor says you can dance and I need proof!"

Wavering slightly, Loki ducked his head in the direction of Sam Wilson's shout, not entirely eager to end your chat. He was worried that somehow the sugar spun bubble you two were in would burst, and that, well that just couldn't happen. Conspiratorially, invading your space across the narrow table, "I will be back. Please, don't go away?"

Feeling like a movie heroine, you felt yourself nod, giggling a little at the spectacle of Loki's clear need. In the glimmering low-lights, under the clink of champagne flutes and husky hum of conversations, Loki wanted to spend his time with you. It was surreal and surprising, but you wanted him too. There was no shame in that, right?

Glued to the spot, feet unmoving, Loki wouldn't leave until you said, "Go on, then. Show me what you've got. I'll be right here."

With a cocky grin, Loki loped toward the waiting circle of people and the makeshift dance floor. Tinny, tinkling piano music was replaced by electronica, pumping through Tony's beyond state of the art sound system. It felt like you were inside the speaker, thumping and bumping, in time with the dance hall beat.

What a sight! You guessed it shouldn't have been so surprising, but seeing Loki, normally so reserved in your daily interactions, grinding and bouncing to the rhythm… it made you feel things. Pulse pounding, deep sighing, clenching your muscles things. Sexy things.

You could have stood there, enchanted from afar, for hours. And you would have too, if Thor hadn't stumbled to your stand, nearly toppling the table with his unsteady bulk, "Oof! A thousand apologies, my dear sweet bakery maiden."

Diverting your attention, you quickly stepped back into vendor mode, "No trouble! No trouble at all! What can I get for you?"

"Well, I have been wondering, what did my brother get a taste of that made him smile so wide? It must have been a truly delicious nibble." Thor, mimicking a mouse nibbling at cheese, was clearly past the point of sobriety.

Turning thoughtful for a second, you realized Loki hadn't eaten anything of yours tonight… at least not yet. So it had been your easy back and forth that made the frosty boy happy. Smiling secretively, suddenly supremely pleased, "Um… I have some special items this evening. Would you like to try a peach pie?"

Blowing a raspberry, rolling his eyes, "Did Loki like it?"

"He hasn't tried it yet! You'd be first!" Trying to redirect the sloshed slab of man in front of you, offering the pastry up on a dainty napkin, it’s funny how quickly he snatches it from your hand. Looking tiny in Thor's enormous paw, he devours it whole, swiping at the leftover crumbs on his chest.

"Delicious! Another!" Even shouting, Thor's voice doesn't crack through the party goers busting their moves. Sighing, you hand over another, only to watch it be gulped down without thought or consideration.

Spitting crust at you, Thor bows over the display you painstakingly built to showcase your wares, his weight making the table creak, "You know, my brother normally likes little women."

"Excuse me?"

Waving his hands, pontificating, "Small, shapely… you know the type! Waifs. Skinny, like him. Narrow hips and-" attempting to whisper, "-tiny breasts."

Clearly, Thor was hammered, you knew that. But what he was saying was just hard to hear. You didn’t want to be compared to other women Loki had known, and you certainly didn’t want to hear that they were prettier, or smaller, or skinnier than you. But your roller coaster ride of emotions was derailed when Thor slapped his hand on your table, making you jump.

"Now, you… you're a woman. Strong, sturdy. Could really ground him, you know? Give him children worthy of Valhalla."

In his stupor, Thor couldn't read the warning in your expression. Willing him to stop, shut up, go away with just your monosyllabic responses wasn't working. But, alas, the Space God continued on, "It's all your sweets, you know? Candy and cupcakes and… all those little… What do you call them? The circles, fried and filled with jam?"

Flat, without feeling, "Donuts."

"Donuts! Yes!" Pausing for a breath, which you hoped would last all night long, Thor caught your eye. "I approve. Of the match… that is. Loki has been alone too long. He needs a thick woman to warm his bed, a fair, faithful filly to take-"

Thor's voice cut out, a thin line of shimmering red glowing around his throat, stopping his words. You could still see his mouth moving but the sound was, thankfully, muted. It was then that Wanda slunk close to Norse God, wide orb-like eyes full of knowledge, "I'm sorry I didn't get here sooner."

Mumbling, struggling to sound bright as you gave too much attention to arranging cookies on the tray, "It's ok."

Her delicate hand rested on your own, "No it isn't. Thor's a buffoon when he's downed too many bottles of mead. I hope he didn't say anything too… unpleasant."

Waving her off, working hard to regain your composure, "Naw… it's fine… Thank you, though."

Thor, shrugging off Wanda's limited charm, "What's the big idea? I was telling this lady that my brother likes her! Her ample bosom, her gracious bum… and he always talks about her tasty cakes!"

Steve, sidling up at the first sign of trouble, grabbed Thor's arm, "Come on buddy. Time for bed."

"But! I am not tired! I want more pie! And mead!"

Wanda, rolling her eyes, "May I have another? For the road?"

Quickly wrapping up a few of your crusty delicacies, you handed them over, now eager for the night to end. It seemed tarnished somehow, spoiled by Thor's observations, like an unrisen souffle. Glancing at the clock, you were amazed at the time! It was late even for a late night event and you began packing up regardless of the people still partying their evening away.

You were hoping for a quick departure. Seamless, silent, without distracting anyone, including a certain raven haired hottie. No one would notice if you snuck away now, you were sure, and you had already fulfilled your obligation to Pepper. In fact, with Thor's little outburst, you were well over your allotted time. And, you reasoned, Loki could find some small little twig, more to his taste, if you weren't there to distract him.

That thought made your throat burn and your eyes water as you quietly broke down your area. Even now you could see him, a head above everyone else, spinning with a smile on his face. Loki looked so at ease, you refused to be the wet blanket on his good time. Besides, flirting was one thing, but Loki wasn’t yours and you were old enough not to be crushed by a crush.

With one last, longing look over the assembled Avengers, you bumped your bottom into the exit door, shuffling toward the service elevator. As the doors closed, shutting out the jubilation inside, you slumped against the wall. How could you think Loki would want you?

Having spent a significant amount of the late evening busting a move, Loki had managed to keep one eye on you most of that time. Noticing Thor bumble your way, he was nervous about what his brother might say, but Natasha had challenged him to a dance off. How could he resist?

By the time Loki stopped to catch his breath and collect his cookies, you were gone. Vanished. The only trace of you? A small, golden box, stuffed with your divine delicacies. Loki needn't see the name scrolled on the label to know it was for him.

But like Cinderella, you had fled and Loki had no way to find you. Sinking his heart, Loki clutched the box, padding away to his room and the solitude of silence. At least he had your thoughtful gift of goodies to keep him company. It was almost enough. Almost.

For all the numerous things The Avengers were good at, it was a non-hero who observed Loki slide away, sad and silent. Never one to let a party end on a low note, a new plan was formed to unite the Trickster and the Treat Maker. But it would need time to rise, like decadent cinnamon rolls, and like those sticky sweet buns, would be totally worth the wait.

When Monday dawned, you loaded up your goods and trudged to work. For the first time since starting your business venture your heart wasn't in it. Not when you plated blueberry buckle with lavender scented whipped cream, not when you swirled almond milk into fresh brewed coffee, not when you bagged cheesy bagel bites.

And it was, apparently, to be a day of firsts. Because this was the only day that Loki failed to make an appearance at your stand since you’d opened. Thor, pushing people aside, had made a point of apologizing for his behavior. It was kind and honest, yet, hollow since it didn't make Loki materialize in your line. But you appreciated it, nonetheless.

Before long, the day was done, your cleaning ritual initiated, your mind wandering. That it circled back to a certain blue eyed mischief maker over and over wasn't shocking. Where had Loki been? Had you driven him off? Would he come back tomorrow?

"Ahem… Excuse me!"

Squealing, you dropped the tray you'd been wiping with a clanking clatter, "Miss Potts! You startled me!"

"I didn't mean to!", stooping to hand you back your platter, she lifted her smart eyes to yours.

"I know… I'm so sorry! I've been… a little off today."

Shrewd, searching, Pepper looked you over, "You're not the only one."

Laughing nervously, “Oh? Who else is having a tough Monday?”

“A friend… listen, I wanted to thank you for the other night. It was really wonderful having your exceptional snacks at the ready.”

Allowing yourself a small smile, nibbling your lip nervously, “The pleasure was all mine.”

Pepper, shifting on her high heels, “I’d like to hire you again.”

“Really?” Snapping your head up at the offer, you were a little surprised by her request. Even though that night hadn’t ended the way you had hoped, necking with Loki like a teenager after prom, it had still been a lucrative evening for your little start up company. But so soon?

“Yes! This is a smaller event. Actually, more of a date than anything. This Friday evening. Would you be free?”

Grabbing your phone, confirming the date on your calendar, “It works for me! What time were you thinking?”

Blinking, Pepper took a minute to contemplate before answering, “Let’s say seven. Upstairs, on the outdoor deck?”

“That sounds great, Ms. Potts! How many people are you expecting?”, making notes, head down you missed her gentle smile.

“Just two.”

That made you giggle. So, it was a night of romance with Tony she was after. Flashing your benefactor a knowing smirk, “Sounds lovely.”

“I hope it will be!”

You didn’t see Loki all week. There was rumor going around the tower that he was off on a mission somewhere, very hush, hush. Your limited intell was gained only because of Thor’s inability to lower his booming voice while waiting for a croissant on Tuesday morning.

It got easier. Not seeing him in your daily line, not giving him his cappuccino, not buttering his scone. By Friday you finally felt like Loki was out of your system, which was a good thing, because you knew Ms. Potts was expecting you to knock it out of the park tonight.

“Things are going to be a little different for this evening, if that’s ok. I thought you could set out your dessert courses here, on the counter, and we’d have someone bring them out to the patio area.”

Unafraid to go the extra mile, you were quick to volunteer, “I’d be more than happy to act as a server if-”

Talking over you, “Oh no, dear! I have someone for that already. Really, all you have to do is make sure your treats are in order.”

Slightly crestfallen, but always a good sport, you agreed. As she’d requested, you had prepared three special desserts for the night, hoping you covered all of Tony’s favorite flavors. First, lemon cake with a cracked sugar glaze and fresh raspberry sauce to garnish. Next would be the white chocolate cheesecake studded with plump blueberries and piles of fresh vanilla flavored whipped cream. Last, and perhaps most importantly, was your personal favorite, tiramisu. Simple, delicious, and perfect with a strong cup of espresso.

Clapping her hands, Pepper was so pleased at the thought you had put into each plate, “Wow, does this look amazing! There’s really only one other thing that we need for this.”

Wiping a stray stripe of sauce from the plate, a piping bag cupped in your hands, you lifted your head, “What’s that Ms. Potts?”

“Why, you of course.”

Stalling in midair, you slowly lowered the tool of your trade, wiping your sugary fingers on the seat of your jeans. “I’m right here! What can I do to help?”

Coming around the island now, Pepper drew close enough to take your hands in her own, “You’ve already done it. Tonight is my way of saying ‘Thank You’... and I hope you’ll accept a small gift as a token of my appreciation.”

As the last word hung in the air between you, the lift doors parted, and Loki stepped into the room.

Pepper had summoned him, asking only that he arrive on time and not “look a mess”. Since Loki had never been anything less than elegant in all things, he had no intention of breaking that streak this evening. If only he knew what to dress for?

So, he split the difference, going for casual cool. A jet black polo shirt, unbuttoned, clung to him like a second skin, caressing every muscle. Black trousers and a black belt made him look dangerously seductive as he sauntered closer with each step.

Your mouth went dry at the sight of him. Missing Loki all week made seeing him like this stupefying. Fuzzy brained and dull minded, you weren’t capable of wrapping your head around what was happening.

“Pepper? What… what is all this?” Loki’s husky baritone questioned the set up, your presence, the pretense. At least you weren't the only one who was confused.

Pulling you along, Pepper maneuvered you next to him, “Loki, It’s all arranged. Dessert by candlelight, under the stars… FRIDAY, start my Date Night playlist.” The strains of “In the Still of the Night” by the Five Satins filled the air.

It was right then that Loki got it. The strange summons, the dress code, the secrecy. He knew why you were here, with your bespoke baked goods, looking like a snack yourself. Pepper had listened when Loki recommended you for the first gig, and somehow she had heard the unspoken recommendation of his heart. A rush of feeling flowed over him at the idea.

Looking sheepish and flustered, Loki caught your eye, “Hello.”

“Hi…”, bashful yourself, you struggled not to look too giddy.

“See, you’re already on your way. Have a good night kids!”

You and Loki stood there, staring, until the click of Pepper’s heels on the marble had faded away. This is awkward, you thought, unsure of what to do next. Here with the man you wanted, you weren’t entirely sure what to do, but luckily for you, Loki knew how to take charge, “Shall we?”

Lacing his fingers with yours, Loki led you to the open deck where a small bistro table was waiting, already set for the two of you. Pulling out your chair, Loki made sure you were comfortable before taking his own seat at your side, as opposed to across the table. It was a cozy and romantic scene.

The song shifted. Now The Platters crooned, “Only You”, and your hand was itching to grab Loki’s under the table. Before you could, Pepper’s hired server for the evening brought your first plate, and a bottle of Prosecco.

So far, neither of you had really spoken. Words seemed too difficult to use when the situation was so formal. And yet, it really was lovely of Ms. Potts to do this for you… and for Loki.

“Did you make all of this?”

Picking up your fork, giving Loki a small nod, “Yea… I thought Pepper was planning a date night with Tony. I had no idea that this… any of this… was happening. Did you?”

“No. But, I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised. She did hire you because of me.”

Taken aback by his admission, “Really? Care to elaborate?”

Tucking into the lemony piece of heaven in front of him, Loki closed his eyes in bliss, “Hmm… that is delicious. You are really so good at this! And that, my purveyor of pound cake, is what I told Ms. Potts.”

“Well, thank you! I mean, I knew you liked me!”

Hotter than opening your oven, a blast of heat swept over you, reddening your cheeks in shock. Flustered now, you could barely speak, cursing yourself for letting your real feelings slip out like that unfiltered. Mortified, you grabbed your glass, slugging half of it down in a second.

Loki’s fork froze, almost to his lips, as his own eyes widened. Sighing, he placed the utensil, covered in lemon and raspberry deliciousness down gently. Feeling his scorching gaze, you sat stock still, Loki’s wry whisper reaching you, “I do. And I should have told you that before… before Pepper had to go to such great lengths to prove it.”

“But Loki… I’m just… I’m not…” Stammering, you couldn’t quite find the best way to explain the reservations you had been carrying, the reasons Thor had so clearly defined.

“You are though. You are so kind hearted… to everyone. Even the dullards and bores. I hear you, you know? What you say, how you say it. No one leaves your little station without being complimented, enlightened, enriched. It is the best part of my day, coming down to see you… and taste whatever marzipan masterpiece you’ve graced us with.”

Starting to feel the bubbles of Prosecco in your brain, your lopsided smile spread at the emotion Loki expressed, “Loki… it’s the only thing that gets me through sometimes. Seeing you, knowing that you’re in line. And how cute you are when you spell out your name, like I haven’t written it a hundred times before.”

It was his turn to blush, “I knew that. I knew it was adorable.”

Playfully pushing against his shoulder, you chuckled, “Loki! That’s not fair!”

“Then you won’t like this, darling.”

Catching your arms in his firm hands, Loki tucked your body into his, finding your mouth as you laughed at his antics. Using his top lip to trap your own, Loki’s bottom lip gently parted, as the softness of his kiss blended into the lemon scented sweetness of his sigh. His tongue, probing slowly, pressed between your lips stealing a shaky breath for Loki to treasure.

Rising, Loki’s hands cradled your cheeks, ensuring that you couldn’t break away from his kiss. As if you wanted to! Your own hands wandered, with one resting on the warm slope of his wide thigh and the other pressed against Loki’s broad chest.

Deepening the kiss, you pushed forward, nestling between Loki’s spread legs. Trailing a hand along his hip, scooting closer, you moaned at the luscious texture of his tongue on your own. When Loki pulled back, you followed, unwilling to break the beautiful bond your mouths had sealed.

Swallowing hard, unable to believe that he was really here with the flavor of your candy kisses filling his senses, Loki shook his head. Seeing your own dazed expression made his heart soar. He was going to have to write Pepper a thank you note or have you bake her a cake, because this was the best thing that had ever happened to the Prince of Asgard.

“Are you ready for the next course?” The server, having popped out of the compound, was struggling to hide his own smug smile at the sexy little show you two had put on.

A new song started, the notes drifting through the air, making you smile. Sam Cooke’s eternally youthful voice sang, “Cupid… draw back your bow…” and Loki slowly stood. “Uh, please, hold the next one, if you don’t mind.”

Coming around behind you, offering you his hand, “Loki? What are you doing?”

“What I should have done last week… Ask you to dance…?” Voice brimming with hope, Loki quirked an eyebrow, anticipating your acceptance.

“About time.”

Rumbling through Loki’s solid torso, his laugh greeted you as you fell into his arms easily, chuckling yourself. It was so familiar and yet so different. His hands rested over the curve of your back, pulling you tighter, controlling the sway of your hips. Circling the delicate strength of his neck, your fingers teasing into those long locks of tousled hair, you let Loki take the lead.

Tipping you back, over balancing you but still in control, Loki’s look was pure lust, “I apologize for running late. I should have-”

Cutting in, husking into the shell of Loki’s ear, “Don’t. We’re here now. And besides, you were worth the wait.”

Squeezing you, putting every ounce of feeling into his hug, Loki found it hard to loosen his grip. Now that he had the thing he wanted, he never wanted to be separated from it… you… ever again.

Twirling you out, tugging you back in, as the song came to its close, Loki took the opportunity of dipping you low enough for your head to graze the ground below. Breathless and giddy, you were lifted back to standing, clinging to the demi God before you. Parting your lips, anticipating another of Loki’s kisses, your eyes fluttering closed, “Sir? Madame?”

Shifting his focus from your glossy, eager mouth to the server once more, Loki’s own giggle shining in his face, “My good man, please… just pack it all up! We’re not staying.”

“We’re not?” A hint of surprise colored your tone as you took in the ecstatic look on Loki’s face.

Nodding at you, “Nope.”

Waiting only a moment or two for a bag stuffed full of your goodies, Loki slung it over this wrist before taking your hand and leading you through the Tower’s maze of floors. Of course, he stopped at almost every corner to sneak a peck, pat your tush or cage you against the wall so that his hips were flush against your own as he licked the soft spot under your ear.

“Hmmm… Loki… That feels so good.” Mewling softly, your nails scratching into his scalp, as he swung open the door to his room.

Ushering you inside, Loki paused only to set his blistering, needy eyes on you once more, “We are not children, you and I. If you want to wait, I will be patient… but, believe me, my darling little patisserie, when I say this: I want you. I want to devour you… I want to know if you’re as sweet as strawberry shortcake or tart like key lime pie.

“I need to see if you-” here he swallowed so hard his Adam’s Apple bobbed, “-sigh when I kiss you the same way you do when you slide a hot cup of tea over the counter. Or how you’ll sound when you call my name in ecstasy. Because I’ve already thought about these things a hundred times over. While I wait in line for a moment of your attention or when I taste those lovely delicacies, you fill my thoughts.

“Do you always smell of vanilla and butter, I wonder. Will my sheets be scented with marshmallow and marzipan? Almond and cherry?”

Advancing on you now, hunger heating his look, “But just know, little one, if you do come to my bed, I will make sure it’s the last one you’ll ever need.”

Stepping closer, baiting the bear in him, you bit into your bottom lip, “Are you saying that everyone will know I belong to you… L, O, K, I… Loki?”

“My sweet, sweet thing. That is exactly what I mean.”

In a flurry of movement, Loki swept you against his kitchen table, the wood strong and sturdy behind you. Kisses, hot and happy melted you like butter, as Loki spread your legs to stand between them. When you heard the sound of paper crumpling, “What’s that?”

“Oh! Our to-go bag! Your luscious desserts!” Sounding slightly panicked, Loki quickly removed the items from inside the bag, before turning to you with a look that said trouble.

“What? What’s that face?”

“I’ve told you how much I fancy your food… and now you know how much I adore you... “

“Uh huh…”, still unsure about where this was going, your eyes followed Loki as he pulled your tub of whipped cream from the ruined sack. Snapping off the lid, his long finger scooping out a big glob, only for Loki to brush the airy confection over your mouth.

Licking the cream from your lips, Loki tongued the seam of your pretty pout, moaning at the burst of vanilla he tasted there, “I don’t know what’s more delicious, your frothy garnish or this mouth.”

“What if I want some, huh?” Grabbing at Loki’s finger, the one he’d used to snag the sample with, you pulled it into the warm inlet of your mouth, sucking lightly.

Growling low in his throat at the erotic scene before him, Loki issued a command, “Bedroom. Now.”

Sliding off the table, right into Loki’s space, “Bring the whipped cream though, ok?”

Clothes were shed in a rush. Each piece unveiling soft skin and new places to explore, reminding you of a creme brulee’s hardened caramel layer. The way you crack it open, revealing the cool custard beneath the scorched sugar crust, a gift unwrapped for all your senses.

By the time Loki lowered you onto his bed, he had already sampled swatches of your skin, leaving behind the marks of his possession. His hands never seemed to stop. First they were dusting over your shoulders, then across your thighs, next on your generous bottom, squeezing hard.

Sighing in contentment, you closed your eyes, lost in the moment of making love to Loki. As he lay down over you, the press of his rigid planes met the soft curves of your figure, you wrapped yourself around him. Tangling those rich, dark locks in your hand, forcing your mouths together, panting with shared passion.

Connecting with his hip, you slid your palm over the rise of his bottom, squeezing just a little, “You know, you have a great ass, right?”

Sucking against the ridge of your clavicle, Loki kissed over your jaw, “I do?”

“Oh yea… I watch you walk away everyday thinking, damn. That ass.”

Brushing stray strands from your face, “That’s funny, because I think the same thing every time you bend over to get those little swizzle sticks for stirring coffee!”

Setting off a fit of giggles, the pair of you with arms and legs akimbo, laughed like children. There was something so freeing about being naked and comfortable with the man beside you. Quieting only when you heard the pop of the frosting bowl's lid coming off, you sucked in a breath as Loki lowered his lips to your waiting nipple.

Playful and pleasing, he released you just long enough to sit back on his heels, surveying the state of you. "Now, It's my turn."

"Your turn to what, exactly?"

"Decorate!" Producing an assortment of sprinkles and frosting, sanding sugars and coconut shreds, caramel sauce and raspberry coulis as if from thin air, Loki grinned at you wickedly before setting to work.

For every place that was home to a dollop of icing or a squirt of sauce you were licked, nibbled, nuzzled or bitten. As Loki worked lower, you squirmed in anticipation, as your pastry chef in training sucked your inner thigh free of chocolate fudge. Before you could prepare, Loki's tongue parted your slippery center, making you call out, "Oh! Yes, Loki!"

Parting your swollen sex, circling your stiffened bud, Loki lapped at your sensitive skin gently. His fingers, long and reaching, stroked into your sticky channel, stretching you sweetly. Rocking against Loki's oral affections, the beginning of bliss burning in your belly, you gripped him tightly seeking release.

For his part, Loki needed no encouragement. Bringing you to the pinnacle, alternately sipping at your slick core, and sucking on your sweet pearl was making Loki ache with want. Even when you pulled at his onyx locks, inner thighs trembling, struggling to stave off your peaking pleasure, Loki only worked harder, "Don't hold back. We've already wasted too much time!"

"Uh huh… um… shit… Loki…" mumbling was the most you could do as you felt a third finger enter you, widening you, readying you. It was enough. Cumming hard against him, stiffening and then softening like taffy, you gave yourself over to the pleasure Loki provided.

Smacking his lips lewdly, licking his fingers, "I knew it… I knew you'd be delectable."

Grinning broadly, happy and satisfied, "Am I gonna get a taste? You're not the only one with a sweet tooth, ya know!"

"Only when I've had my fill… and I'm not close to being finished, darling!"

Sticky, sweet and satiated, you and Loki lay in each other's arms smiling. He'd asked about a gift for Pepper and you were already planning a cupcake basket for your matchmaking mentor. You had just licked the last of your lemon curd from his abs, curling into his side, "I need a shower."

"Oh, yes! Let's do that!" Rising, dragging you with him, Loki could picture you under the steaming water, begging him to please you. He liked that idea!

"And after…"

Pausing to look at you, "After?"

"Can you find me something salty to snack on… ya know, for a change?"

Pressing a kiss to your hand, Loki flashed you that megawatt smile, "Absolutely, darling. Absolutely."

My Minxes: @alexakeyloveloki @vodka-and-some-sass @just-random-obsessions @brokenthelovely @lots-of-loki @thefallenbibliophilequote @iamverity @iluvsumbucky @unadulteratedwizardlove @wolfsmom1 @procrastinatinglikeabitch @mizfit2 @shxdowofdarkness @nonsensicalobsessions @ahintofkiwistrawberry @jessiejunebug @rorybutnotgilmore @crystalizedcaramel @lokislittlecorner @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @capcapcapsicle @jamielea81 @caffiend-queen @thenatilie @sammy-jo1977 @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore

#loki x reader #loki x you #hot loki #loki smut #loki love #mcu smut #MCU fanfiction #loki fanfiction #1000 followers

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codename-adler · 3 years

Text

foxes + onesies (4/9)

based off of that one post i saw and don’t remember, where people once caught Allison wandering around Fox Tower in a giraffe onesie, and i absolutely melted for her. here is the Foxes’ journey to getting a onesie each!

Dan

of course the next Fox to get their onesie is the Danielle Leigh Wilds

though Nicky almost beats her to it, but that’s a story for another time

now. Dan is fierce. Dan is sexy. Dan is strong. Dan is an inspiration to all.

Dan also wants a ridiculous pajama to match with her boyfriend and her best friends

Dan wants to go full-on girly mode, for once

Dan wants to feel like a kid again, wants to be free of responsibilities, wants to be included in the girl gang

Dan wants

she feels like that one time when she had been excluded from her classmate’s birthday party, because she hadn’t lots of money and the birthday girl knew she wouldn’t be able to bring her a present

because Ally’s is for therapy, Matt’s represent a piece of his childhood, and Renee’s is a lover’s gift

(yeah, she now has to deal with that. just like Neil and Andrew, she didn’t see #renison coming at all. the only difference is, she now has to live with them being a couple 24/7. at least Matt and her live separately, that gives the others a little bit of a break… Renee and Ally? Cuddle monsters. PDA champions. but only in their dorm. only in front of Dan. it’s exhausting. she thinks they might be doing it on purpose…)

anyways

Dan doesn’t have a reason, an excuse, a memory to fuel this childish desire to own one of those adult pajamas

and it’s not like Matt or the girls would get the hint to gift her one, seeing as her usual aesthetic is sporty, mature and overall just *powerbabe vibes*

and that’s how she comes to the conclusion that her Sisters are her only hope (she’s that desperate)

five of them have children… and one’s got a baby on the way for the first time… and the other five, well… let’s not get into that

so surely, surely, her girls are going to get it, right? they’ll have insight, they’ll be helpful, right?

yeah, they are, they do

they just laugh their asses off first

Dan calls for a video chat meeting on a Wednesday afternoon, when all of them are least likely to be busy

7 of them are able to make it

however, Dan keeps dancing around the subject, and her Sisters notice it right away

Georgia: Oh. My. God. Dan, are you pregnant??

Darla: Oh God, are you dying??

Flo: Did Matt finally propose??

Michelle: Don’t tell us you guys broke up!!

Courtney: Do you need a lawyer or something??

Camilla: Which bastard hurt you??

June: Do you need help hiding the body??

yeah, dramatic much

Dan ends up being forced to admit the truth before her girls get a heart attack

Dan: Jesus, guys, shut the hell up. I’m fine (*oh shut up Neil*). I just need guidance for… hum… a fashion matter?

that puts her girls in a much better mood

only for all hell to break loose when Dan admits to wanting a fucking onesie pajama

Dan has to mute her laptop

of course, they only tease her because they love her

but still

they have a good time making fun of her

once they calm down, though, they let Dan speak

so she explains what’s been happening in the last few weeks

how she wishes to use that stupid onesie to grow closer to her team, to belong

how she craves something so juvenile because she never had that kind of thing growing up

how she doesn’t know how to proceed without seeming like an attention seeker, a copycat

her Sisters all understand, each in their own way

they finally start asking Dan the right questions

Michelle: So what can we do?

June: I can make you one, if you want. You know I got magic hands *wink*

Flo: D’you need money? We got money, baby. Just say how much.

Darla: You wanna be, like, sexy devil mistress or cute baby angel??

Courtney: Ooh, ooh, a lace one!

Georgia: Courtney no.

Camilla: Courtney yes.

no indeed, Courtney

the main problem, she explained to them, was that she didn’t know what to get

see, Dan doesn’t really like animals; never had one, never obsessed over one, never felt a connection to one

Dan doesn’t particularly like children’s movies either

so, what to get?

Camilla: Okay, but remember when Georgia’s kid started calling us all Care Bears because she was obsessed with it? And she was like, weirdly accurate? What about that?

Michelle: Oh yeah, that was soooo nice. So nice.

Georgia: Oh shut up Michelle, you’re just mad ‘cause my child renamed you Grumpy Bear! She wasn’t wrong, you know.

Courtney: Pff you’re just jealous I got Funshine Bear!

Flo: Okay, enough, enough, now. Dan, which one were you again? Do you even like the idea?

Dan: I guess… I was uh, the pink one. With the hearts on the tummy? Do they even have those in onesies?

Camilla: Oh yeah, Always There Bear! See, Michelle? My daughter’s a psychic. She was right about every one of you.

Flo: Dan, babygirl, they have onesies of everything.

so all the girls pull up pictures of pink Care Bear onesies to show Dan

June is the one who ends up finding Dan’s favorite

it’s baggy, it’s hot pink, it’s cute and fluffy and so not Dan

she loves it

and in bonus, her 11 sisters contribute to pay for her onesie (being the youngest in the family has its perks)

they almost make Dan cry tears of joy

three weeks later (it came from Japan), Dan’s package arrives

it also happens to be Valentine’s Day soon…

(you know where this is going)

it’s Sunday night, the 14th

Dan and Matt have his dorm to themselves

they spend the day with each other, really taking it slow and doing nothing

around 8pm, Dan tells Matt she’s craving some chocolate desserts, so he takes his truck and drives to the closest bakery on campus

meanwhile, Dan puts her plan in action

she pulls out the pink heart-shaped Post-It notes Renee lent her and writes her little messages on them

Hey, pretty boy

Wanna play hide-and-seek…?

Come and find me, pretty boy

You know where I am…

I’m waiting for you XOXO

she sticks them on the front door, all along the hallway and the last one’s on Matt’s bedroom door

Matt is ecstatic when he returns with half a dozen of chocolate eclairs

he chucks the box of desserts in the fridge before he quickly tiptoes to his bedroom

he knocks

and from inside, a voice…

Dan: Come in, pretty boy… I’ve got a surprise for ya…

Matt kicks the door open

and oh. my. lord.

there she is, in all her glory

there’s rose petals all over his bed and the floor

there are lit vanilla-scented candles

there’s slow music playing

and in the middle of the bed, sprawled out like the queen she is, Dan

in her onesie

her neon pink Care Bear onesie

and do you know what the best part is?

Matt isn’t even close to being disappointed

he just thinks, God I love her

as soon as he sees her, he runs and jumps on the bed to join her and make out passionately

and then just as fast, he gets off the bed

Matt: WAIT FOR ME BABY LEMME PUT MINE ON OKAY DON’T YOU MOVE

once he’s back in Dan’s arms, they’re a flurry of pink and orange

they can’t stop giggling

and yeah, they do make love all night long, and eat chocolate eclairs butt-naked

but first they watch their favorite movie, Karate Kid (the one with young Jaden Smith and old Jackie Chan, okay)

so if they weren’t sure of their commitment to this relationship before, after that night, they both knew they would never spend another night with someone else as long as they were alive

they were in perfect harmony

God, I love him // God, I love her

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asknarashikari · 3 years

Note

Minific of Riders ( and maybe with their SO) enjoying ice cream.

Your ask suddenly made me crave ice cream but alas it’s too cold because of the stormy weather here and I can’t get risk getting sick right now since I’m due for my vaccine soon...

“Here you go Rintaro~ A chocolate and vanilla swirl ice cream!” Mei presented the frozen treat to her excited boyfriend.

“I’ve only read about this before... a sweetened frozen dairy treat... how amazing...!” Rintaro exclaimed, accepting the cone from Mei with wide, curious eyes.

“You’ve never had ice cream before?” Touma asked in outrage, pausing in the middle of licking his own cone of soft-serve. “What kind of childhood did you have?”

“Ah... well... Master was a bit preoccupied with training me, I suppose...” Rintaro said with a fluster. He looked at the half-brown, half-white swirl on top of his own cone. “Now then... How do I eat this...?”

Touma, Kento and Mei shared a sad look that the other swordsman didn’t see. While it was adorable how excited Rintaro got over the smallest, most ordinary things, sometimes it drove home just how much of his childhood he had lost in his dedication to the Swords of Logos.

Rintaro... He was a skilled swordsman, certainly, yet he’d never even seen an eclair or an ice cream outside of a book until he was a grown man.

They watched him tentatively take a bite of the frozen confection, instinctively licking his lips when some of the ice cream got onto them. “It’s delicious!” He said delightedly, taking another bite.

The three of them relaxed at Rintaro’s childlike happiness over the treat. “Try eating it with a bit of the cone, too,” encouraged Kento, eating his own ice cream cone. “Just be careful it doesn’t drip out or it’ll be really messy.”

“Oh, you can eat this cone too? I shall try it, then.” Rintaro bit into the waffle cone, his eyes sparkling at the crunchy texture. “Even though it’s filled with cream it stays crisp!” he said in surprise. “And it has a nice contrast to the creaminess as well...” He began taking bigger and bigger bites of his new favorite treat. “This might be even better than chocolate eclairs!” he declared.

They couldn’t help but giggle at how happy Rintaro was over a simple, dirt-cheap ice cream cone from the convenience store. “Well, don’t eat it too quickly, or you’ll get an ice cream headache,” Touma warned playfully as he ate his own cone.

“Ice cream headache? How could such a delicious treat give you such an ail-” He stopped in his tracks, blinking for a moment, before groaning. “Wait... is it this sudden headache I’m feeling...” he said, pressing a hand against his temple. “Oh... why...”

“Yup, there it is...” Mei laughed softly. “Just give it a minute or two, it’ll pass. Then just eat the rest of it slowly, okay?”

Rintaro nodded, looking at his half-eaten cone with a hint of betrayal. “Maybe you’re not so better than eclairs after all...” he told it mournfully, with a sad pout to boot.

Touma, Kento and Mei couldn’t help but flush, looking besottedly at the Swordsman of Water. “Why are you so adorable, Rintaro?!” they all but yelled at him in chorus, abandoning their ice creams to throw themselves at their cute, adorable lover.

“Ah! The ice cream!” Rintaro exclaimed. “The ice cream!”

#kamen rider saber #shindo rintaro #sudo mei #kamiyama touma #fukamiya kento #bookstore ot4 #ask #gnr2012

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lonelyifonlys · 2 years

Text

Okay lots of authors I love have been tagging “anyone who wants to do this” so I guess I’m doing it??

Tag 9 people you want to get to know better

Favorite colour: anything soft, but especially once I got over my society-driven “hatred” for it, pink 🎀

Currently reading: Girl, Woman, Other by Bernadine Evaristo

Last song you listened to: Capture the Light by the Go-Go’s

Last series: Due to the sheer amount of gifs and text posts reblogged by @connyhascontrol @thatemotionalbitch @redscarekatya @westofklovharun @unstablemable @katiehoughton and others I’ve started What We Do In The Shadows and you were all of course absolutely correct that this is peak ridiculousness and sheer brilliance and I love it so much so thanks for flooding my dash!!

Last movie: Literally can’t remember wow… the last movie I watched with another person was Stardust

Savoury, sweet or and spicy: Savouryyy

Cravings: In a direct contradiction of my previous answer, I really want pastries right now, like an eclair or apple danish or something

Currently working on: I have one wip that is half posted on ao3 but I haven’t updated it in like a year because life. But I do work on it and I am determined to finish it eventually

Thanks to all the people that tagged anyone who wanted to join in! It was fun! I also tag anyone who sees this and wants to take part 💕

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jlalafics · 4 years

Note

I’m clearly on a dessert kick at the moment ... how about Everlark chancing a moment alone at an event on the tour to enjoy some sort of treat they found/generally check in with each other and have a breather (or some variation or that — supportive Everlark moment alone on the tour) (I mean they do get caught trying to sneak away a lot, maybe sometimes they succeed)

Hope this satisfies your dessert craving! Thanks @rosegardeninwinter for the prompt!

______

District 5

It’s far into the evening when there’s a quiet knock on the door.

God, I hope it’s not Effie coming to complain about my lack of enthusiasm during the most mind-numbing speech in all of Panem. I don’t know how she comes up with these words, sometimes.

Pressing the door button, it opens and instead of an irate Effie, I find Peeta.

He looks me over. “You were really going to go to sleep?”

My gaze goes to his dark pants and heather-green long-sleeve. He’s also holding a brown leather jacket with a wool collar. “And you aren’t?”

“No. Get dressed,” Peeta urges. “I want to show you something. Wear something that’s not too obvious.”

“I guess my fuchsia sequin dress is out of the question,” I retort.

“Very funny. Hurry up, won’t you?”

“Fine.” I yank him into the room and Peeta looks surprised. “You can’t stand in the hallway waiting for me. Everyone thinks we’re engaged, we’ve probably since each other in various stages of undress.”

“Right,” he manages to sputter out.

I find myself grinning as I look through my closet, pulling out a simple navy-blue dress and a cropped jacket. Quickly, I pull my shirt over my head and shimmy out of my lounge pants.

Behind me, Peeta is quietly whistling to himself, probably avoiding the fact that I’m practically naked in front of him.

What a gentleman.

There are times, however, when I wish he wouldn’t be. When I wish we could recapture the hunger that had welled up inside our cave. Some nights on this train, I find myself replaying those kisses in my mind over and over—

“You okay?” I look over my shoulder to find Peeta watching, his eyes darker than I have ever seen them. I recognize that want in them. “You spaced out for a moment.”

I quickly pull the dress on and pull on the jacket. Finally, I bend down and pull out a pair of sturdy boots.

“I’m ready,” I declare.

“You look nice,” Peeta replies with a soft smile. “Now, let’s get out of here.”

++++++

We find ourselves in a village. The buildings are tall with cone roofs and painted in muted primary colors. Some have stone walls. As we walk through the village, the hand that isn’t grasping Peeta’s reaches to touch one of the stones. It makes sense as we are close to the mountains; it must be their primary resource for building material.

“Where exactly are we going?” I ask as Peeta looks around, his eyes searching the street signs.

“One of our handlers mentioned this one place…” We make another turn and his blue eyes brighten. “There!”

We go to where a small crowd hangs around a…bakery.

This isn’t like Peeta’s bakery as there are wide glass windows displaying trays of baked goods. Inside there are a few tables where the townspeople sit and lounge. It looks cozy and inviting and I find comfort in seeing people living their everyday lives, enjoying time to just be together.

It’s hard to feel like that when you’re on a never-ending train ride.

“Do you see anything you like?” Peeta asks me as we stare at various trays in front of us.

“I really don’t know,” I say. “Why don’t you pick for me?”

Together, we step inside and the noise ceases. I try to ignore the shocked expressions as Peeta leads me to the front counter.

All charm, Peeta gives the older woman with snow white hair a smile. “Hello. Francis recommended your bakery—”

“I’m flattered, Mr. Mellark,” the woman replies kindly. “My name is Mary. What can I help you with?”

“Peeta, please.” He turns to me. “Katniss and I have a limited knowledge on dessert pastries. What would you recommend?”

The woman beams at us. “Well, we are known for our eclairs—”

“I’ve heard about them!” Peeta says excitedly and I smile at his enthusiasm. He’s been so upset with me and I’ve given him several reasons to be. For the first few days of our trip, we avoided each other. However, Peeta has brought me with him on this jaunt so we can get out of our gilded cage for an evening. It is the faintest shimmer of forgiveness and I will take it. “May I see?”

The woman goes to one of the display cases and, taking a smaller tray on the counter, grabs a pair of tongs to pull out some eclairs. She returns, placing them in front of us.

There are two eclairs in front of us, both oblong-shaped, but one has a dark glaze on top and the other a lighter brown.

“This one is a chocolate éclair.” Mary points to the darker one. “And this one is maple. Both have cream filling and both are delicious.”

Peeta nods and turns to me. “I’m convinced. Katniss?”

I muster up a smile. “I trust you…but we don’t have money—”

“I’ve got it,” Peeta tells me.

“They’re on the house,” Mary insists, and she turns to me. “When I saw you with Rue…my heart just broke for you.”

My eyes fill and I’m barely aware as Peeta puts an arm around me.

Rue never had the chance to live, to be able to see any place but her hometown or even try an éclair. These are such little life moments, but they feel bigger since she nor any of the other fallen tributes will ever experience them. My chest burns at the thought.

“Why don’t I buy two more?” Peeta suggests gently. “Let’s enjoy them for the people who couldn’t.”

++++++

We find ourselves in a garden, entering through an archway that looks like the one in front of Victors’ Village back in 12. Peeta finds us a bench that overlooks the whole garden and from the far distance I can spot the shadows of the mountains that tower over the town.

“Wow, this really is beautiful,” Peeta says as we sit down. “Francis made great recommendations.”

“When do you even have a chance to speak to the handlers?” I ask curiously as he opens the paper bag.

“While Effie is lecturing you to smile and stuff, I get to talk to them,” he explains. “I mean the handlers are here to welcome us and someone has to extend their gratitude. We’re Victors, but we’re not going to be jerks about it. They love to talk about their District and Francis just happened to be a chatty one. He’s the one who told me that this is a great date spot.”

A date?

I’m confused for a moment. Is this what this is?

“I’ll give you the chocolate one,” Peeta tells me. “Just don’t eat all of it.”

I’m so flabbergasted by what he’s just said that I reach for the éclair, holding it at both ends and readying myself to take a bite in the middle.

Peeta chuckles lightly. “It’s not a sandwich.” He rotates it so one end is facing me. “Go ahead.”

Tentatively, I take a bite.

The pastry is light, and the chocolate glaze gives it sweetness. I’m amazed at how well the slight buttery taste of the pastry mixes perfectly with the heaviness of the chocolate. The cream is sweet and airy but messy. I find myself licking the excess off the sides of the éclair and along my lips.

“Wow,” Peeta says, his face slightly crimson but the smirk is evident on his mouth. “That’s an image that I’m going to remember for the rest of life.”

I smack his arm. “I’m new at this!” He laughs as I put the éclair back on its wax wrapping. “Peeta?”

He’s already polished off his maple éclair—gluttonous boy. “Hmm?”

I adjust myself in my seat. “Have you ever been on a date?”

“I’ve gone with my brothers and some girls on a group thing,” he replies carefully. “It’s more like I tagged along to make it even. Why?”

“Then how do you know this is a date?”

“I asked you to come out, you got semi-dressed up, I paid for the meal, and took you to what some people might consider a romantic spot.” Peeta turns to me, his eyes warm. “So, yes—according to my brothers, this would be considered a date.” His eyes look off in the distance towards the mountain and I hear his quiet sigh. “Were your dates with Gale different?”

Gale has never asked me to go anywhere but to the woods or maybe to the market. I wear what I usually wear; my father’s jacket and my hunting clothes. Not like Gale’s ever offered, but I pay my own way…and we’ve never really gone anywhere remotely intimate. The thought alone makes me wince slightly.

Clearing my throat, I respond. “Um…I’ve never gone out with him like this.” Peeta turns to me, his eyes hopeful. “So, I guess this is…a…date.”

Peeta nods and I look around at the magnificent garden around us as we sit in content silence. Quiet moments like this are rare, but we take what we can. I breathe in the cool air, hearing the slight whistle of the wind between the mountains and let myself relax for a second.

His hand covers mine and gives it a squeeze. I know he feels it, too.

There’s a shift in the air; something wildly intimate is happening between us. Something that neither of us can really explain. It’s new territory which can be scary but his hand in mine gives me assurance like nothing else can.

“How are you?” he asks me suddenly. An arm moves stealthily around my shoulders and Peeta avoids my suspicious gaze. “I mean, not counting the whole Snow hating us thing.”

“I guess I’m okay,” I answer. My body curls against his, my head to his shoulder. “And you?”

“I’m on my first date with Katniss Everdeen,” he tells me and I can feel his smile against my hair. “What more can I ask for?”

++++++

It is all too soon when we return to the train.

Being the nice guy that he is, Peeta walks me to my room.

It’s right across from his, but that’s neither here nor there.

“Thanks—” I say, my eyes darting downward. “—for tonight. I think we both really needed it.”

“I agree.” Peeta looks to me, uncertainty in his eyes.

My palms are sweaty because I’m waiting…hoping…that he’ll take that next step—

“Where have you been?” We pull apart, finding Effie charging towards us sans wig and wearing the most garish purple robe. “Do not tell me that you snuck out!”

Behind her, a groggy Haymitch joins us.

Something tells me he knew, but did he care about our one night away from our steel cage?

I’m betting not.

“Then we won’t tell you,” I reply simply. I take Effie’s hand, rotate it palm facing up and give her the paper bag with the extra eclairs in it. “Good night.”

++++++

I’m disappointed.

Not by the outing…date.

There is still a pleasant roll in my stomach at the memory of the garden…our garden…of the taste of chocolate éclair along my tongue…and the look in Peeta’s eyes as he watched me.

Actually, that gives me a whole different feeling.

Going to the closet, I take off my jacket and reach for a hanger—

A gentle knock sounds against my door.

Hanging my jacket quickly, I press the door button and find Peeta in front of me.

“What are you doing here—”

I don’t even finish the sentence before his mouth is on mine. My arms wrap around his neck as we kiss, his hands moving along the line of my back. The heat is encompassing; our mouths connected, breaths puffing against each other, and foreheads pressed. Somewhere along the way, my hands travel down, grasping at his shirt…not quite sure where this will go…nor caring.

“Peeta…” I whisper against his lips.

His mouth moves along my jawline trailing down to my neck. “Yes?”

“I had a really good time,” I whisper into his ear as he mouths the gentle curve.

Peeta kisses me gently, a promise against our lips. “I’m going to take you on another date one day.”

I close my eyes hoping, after this tour is done, he’ll make good on that promise.

FIN.

And we know what happens next.

District 5 is supposed to be located around the Rocky Mountains. I imagine that the town they visited was what was Veil, Colorado and the bakery in the Lionshead district. The gardens would the Betty Ford Alpine Gardens.

I’ve never been there, but now I want to go.

Thanks for reading!

#Everlark #During the Victory Tour #firstdate!Everlark #District 5: Power #Everlark Fanfiction #victorytour!Everlark

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obutsuwrites · 4 years

Text

confectionery kisses (fat gum x reader)

summary: “I know you’re enjoyin’ me, but -- uh -- can I kiss ya?” The alcohol hit him fully now; the hero too enumerated to be bashful. Steamie looked up and was greeted by lemon color eyes that held utter kindness. xxx lord forgive me bc this is so wholesome it killed me!!! but basically, bakery!au ft. meet-cute w/ drunken kissing shenanigans~! (well it's 1 kiss ok but it is what it is)

author note: i’m considering a part 2 that picks up where this leaves off, but w smut. if that’s sumthin anyone would b interested in, pls lmk~!

reader is nonbinary/afab!

word count: 2,130

my ao3 for more shitposts~!

my ko-fi~!

my inbox is open 4 requests :3c

Focused, flour caked hands kneaded the dough before them. The young baker too engrossed by the magic of dough to notice a soft chime sound through the shop. Customers weren’t uncommon for them. Steamie’s Bakery was a word-of-mouth local treasure. A bewitching pastry shop that had the best donuts, honest. Steamie -- as they prefer -- adored their neighbors praises. Steady streams of patrons in a ‘hot spot’ for criminal activity wasn’t exactly the best business decision. However, this run-down homestyle bakery -- and it’s holes -- were theirs.

Steamie hummed as they worked. Their mind was stuck within sugary confectionery.

“Hey… y’all open?” This man’s voice was gruff and carefree. A smile wrapped in his syllables.

Fat Gum stood within the tiny bakery. His form dwarfed the modest space; the edge of his hood scrapped against the ceiling as he waited for a response. The BMI Hero was surprised his lumbering footsteps hadn’t alerted the owner. Was it possible he had misread the sign? Work had drained him recently. Fat Gum had practically dragged himself to Steamie’s Bakery. Locals babbled constantly about the place, and he desired a quiet bite after hours. The quant business was one of the only eateries open at such an hour.

The abrupt sound whipped the enamored baker from their task. Warm eyes glanced up, irises bright and alive despite the time. “Hi. Yes! Yes, we are. I’m Steamie.” Their eyes met the giant man who stood awkwardly in front of a display. He looked so out of place, the man’s body bulbous and impossibly large. Steamie guessed by the man’s rather campy mask that he was an off-duty hero. A species of hero not seen often around their street. The area deemed too dangerous for such leisurely activity.

Truth be told, Steamie didn’t care about heroes. Or villains. The tall baker instead hyper focused upon baking. A hobby that morphed into a job. However, a small voice inside Steamie wanted to impress the man. He seemed so friendly and looked so… cuddly. Like a sentient teddy bear. A man composed of pillows and kindness.

Fat Gum furrowed his brows. The BMI Hero seemed to be in deep thought over exactly which eclair to buy. He had never seen so many flavors before. Strawberry, blueberry, cherry, watermelon. Every flavor sounded as delicious as the last. Pink tongue darted out between his lips and teeth. A sugar overload was tempting. Simple black coffee wouldn’t cure this sluggy fog. Besides, he had burned away precious fat today. It was a treat.

“Steamie? Does your quirk help with your work?” Fat Gum asked, as he scanned the pastries. He noticed their designs now. Soft and lacy intricate artwork that intertwined on each eclair; each pattern unique and perfectly executed. Every baked good was a labor of love.

A snort escaped Steamie; the sound high pitched and hearty.

“I wish. No, I just emit a puff of steam. I’m basically a glorified dehumidifier.” Steamie brushed flour decorated hands against their apron. The young baker was keen to serve the hero. Hero culture wasn’t an interest of theirs, but the physical embodiment of a pillow was too enticing for the baker. They wondered what exactly their job was. ‘Due to his size… maybe rescue?’

It was now Fat Gum’s turn to laugh. Rumbly and soft. “I don’t do rescue. Say, uh, how much are these eclairs?”

Rambling out loud was habitual for them. Their thoughts grew legs of their own and walked out into tangible space. They were immune to the embarrassment of it, instead accepting their odd trait.

Steamie slapped a dusty hand to their forehead. “I don’t have price tags..?” The sentence was in limbo between a question and an answer. They had rearranged the shop recently. Changing pastry stock required innovation. The elclairs before Fat Gum had been a stroke of late night genius. Birthed from the desire for a gooey center and intricate lace. A happy medium for the proud baker.

The baker quickly stepped behind the counter, dust flew from their hands. Diligent hands eventually found a leftover tag and wrote down a price. Patrons caused Steamie to envelope themselves into baking. Most days, flour and powdered sugar felt impossible to wash off. Almost like a second skin; signs of their success.

Steamie beckoned Fat Gum to the counter. The BMI Hero obliged; pep in his gait.

“Here. Don’t go thinking you’re getting a discount!” Steamie’s laugh echoed in the bakery as they handed the hero price tags. Fat Gum could swear the baker’s body vibrated from the sound. “I’ve been busy lately. Cakes and pies don’t sell themselves.”

The hero’s smile grew like marigolds; fast and vibrant. Steamie didn’t mind looking at this hero. His posture was proud, but hid something. A mystery Steamie couldn’t quite figure out. ‘Kinda interesting…’

“What’s interesting?” Fat Gum asked, the giant of a man still enamored by pastries.

“You know my quirk; what’s yours? It’s probably super interesting.”

The hero’s face contorted into a mix of confusion and admiration. ‘Does she not know who I am?’ “My quirk is fat absorption. I don’t usually look like this!” A laugh erupted from the man. His notoriety meant everyone knew of his quirk. The banter was refreshing. Fat Gum enjoyed the naivety of the baker.

Their conversation died down as Fat Gum perused baked goods. Steamie wandered back to their original post. They almost forgot the hero was in the shop. Heavy footsteps dissolved any fantasy of peace and quiet. Little moments of serenity were scarce, but nightfall brought the quiet Steamie craved. A meager smile etched into the corners of the baker’s mouth. They hummed as they worked; now fully absorbed in kneading dough.

“Hey,” the hero’s gruff voice broke the silence between them, “hope it’s not too much trouble, but I’m ready to be rung up!” His words carried an airiness to them; like cotton candy. Steamie wondered if this was a natural state for Fat Gum.

Steamie nodded, again wiping their hands on their apron. Dusty fingers worked at the register and completed the transaction between the two.

Fat Gum stopped short of the door and turned to the baker still stationed at the counter. “What’s your name?” He asked with childish curiosity, as if Steamie’s name was a mystery.

“Like I said, I’m Steamie,” they replied, eyeing the hero. It wasn’t uncommon for locals to ask what their real name was, but as far as Steamie cared, Steamie was their name. An abstract, genderless name that suited them.

Fat Gum laughed, a hearty sound that echoed through the empty bakery. Steamie swore display cases shook. Almost reminiscent of thunder. “No, uh, your… Your real name, unless you prefer Steamie. It’s cute.” A tint of red dotted his cheeks, unable to hide the embarrassment that painted his face. He didn’t intend to tell the baker; the compliment had slipped past him.

“Steamie is who I am. Is Fat Gum not who you are?” They chose to ignore the comment, it was muttered anyway, as if the hero was embarrassed. It was polite to not intimate customers.

“Toyomitsu,” the hero said and pointed to his chest; a smile stretched across his face.

“It was nice to meet you, Toyomitsu.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Fat Gum -- or Toyomitsu as he preferred -- was absent from the shop, until several weeks after their first meeting.

It was closing time and Steamie was locking up. Despite their dingy location, the baker only carried two keys; one to lock up and the other to unlock their apartment. There were better things to steal than confectionery.

“Long time no see, huh, Steamie?”

The thunderous voice obviously belonged to Toyomitsu; unique and hearty.

The baker flinched at the sudden noise and swiftly turned to the BMI Hero. His face was no longer taunt and long, but instead, squishy and soft. Chubby cheeks that were made for pinching and a soft, bulbous belly. The man before them sounded like Toyomitsu, but his hefty frame was the opposite of the hero Steamie met.

“You’re… Toyomitsu, right?” Remembering names wasn’t one of Steamie’s strong suits.

A light blush crept across Toyomitsu’s face, ending at the tips of his ears. “That’s me! Kinda surprised you remembered, it’s been awhile.”

Steamie nodded and finished to lock the door, pocketing their key.

“I was wondering,” Toyomitsu began, “if you wanted to get a bite. It’d be my treat!” The hero’s tone was excited, like a child asking for a sweet. ‘He’s so enduring like this… reminds me of a teddy bear.’ Steamie’s lips curled into a petite smile. A secret between friends.

In truth, Toyomitsu wanted more than a dinner date, but any meaningful relationship is built on friendship. At least that’s the advice he offered to Red Riot. The pro hero wanted to kiss the baker and pinch their cheeks; all while cooing at them.

“No thanks, I’m exhausted from today,” Steamie replied. They saw Toyomitsu’s wide grin falter and felt a pang in their chest. ‘His face is just too cute!’ “Actually, I don’t live far from here, and I have some left-over pastries. They don’t sell like my eclairs.” Anything Steamie baked was delicious, Toyomitsu decided.

“Sure!” He eagerly replied. A grin encompassed his face as the couple walked towards the baker’s apartment.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The BMI hero sat across Steamie as the baker dove into another work related story. He adored the spark in their eyes, like tiny sprinkles decorating a vibrant treat. A treat he wanted to admire and cherish. Watching Steamie become animated while they talked caused Toyomitsu’s heart to quiver against his ribcage.

Steamie -- to their credit -- truly opened up after several cups of wine; slurring and excited. Their thoughts were no longer accidental blurbs, but drunken fragments.

“...an’ that’s why I don’ keep sugar an’ flour!”

Toyomitsu nodded, tufts of blond feathered around his forehead.

“Wanna touch your cheeks, can I?” The baker asked, their voice small and childlike. This was the first sentence that wasn’t a slurred mess, and yet, Toyomitsu still felt heat bloom in his cheeks.

Gently, Toyomitsu brought their small hand -- that his own dwarfed -- against his cheek. The baker’s touch was warm, like fresh baked bread. Without realizing, the hero nuzzled into Steamie’s palm.

‘So soft…’

“Yeah, you are.” The alcohol had made Toyomitsu brave, lion hearted and flustered.

Pink sprinkled across Steamie’s face as they withdrew their hand and buried their face within their palms. “Sorry,” the baker slurred, “you… You look so ‘oft.”

Toyomitsu chuckled at the mumbled apology. “S’ok, you’re cute.”

Steamie let out a soft gasp, “Cute? Dunno ‘bout that! But I think your cheeks…” They weren’t accustomed to compliments, especially compliments from a teddy bear. ‘Wanna bury myself in his chest.’

“You can.”

Steamie’s face was uncovered and ever red, the baker unable to justify hiding the inferno that burned into their cheeks.

The baker devolved into a red and squealing mess; unable to form coherent sentences, like little pieces of creamy confectionery. The pro hero wondered what their plush lips felt like pressed up against his… They looked so small, so delicate. A treasure he wanted to covet. The hero’s large, calloused finger reached up and quickly swiped across the supple flesh. ‘Like a flower petal,’ Toyomitsu thought.

The baker drifted into Toyomitsu’s lap; scorching and far too big for their frame. “Ya smell ‘ice,” Steamie mumbled and buried their face into the gigantic man’s chest. Fluffy and cozy, like a pillow. “Like a pillow!” Steamie couldn’t help the outburst. Toyomitsu wasn’t a man, but a plushie they wanted to bury themselves in. He was velvety and felt like home. The baker inhaled his scent, trying to memorize the floral notes of his laundry soap. Vanilla and honeysuckle.

Toyomitsu petted their hair, running his fingers through long strands. Even their hair was soft. Steamie was a squishy marshmallow he wanted to keep. He wrapped an arm around their small body, hyper aware of their delicate structure. Warm hands began to rub Steamie’s back as they nuzzled against Toyomitsu’s sweatshirt. ‘Feels like a hug.’

“I know you’re enjoyin’ me, but -- uh -- can I kiss ya?” The alcohol hit him fully now; the hero too enumerated to be bashful. Steamie looked up and was greeted by lemon color eyes that held utter kindness.

Their tongue refused to cooperate, the baker only able to produce a curt nod. Their face was a blazing wildfire, a vibrant array of pinks and rogues.

Slowly, Toyomitsu pressed his chapped lips against the baker’s mouth. The kiss was slow and sloppy, neither party capable of coordinated motion. Toyomitsu brushed his tongue along their lips and tasted sugar. His mind was clouded with lewd thoughts of the baker as he finally broke the kiss; greedy lungs heaving -- desperate for air.

“Ya taste good, wonder what this tastes like,” the pro hero pondered. His hand gently palming between their thighs.

#Taishiro Toyomitsu x reader #fat gum x reader #bnha #fluff #wholesome #Bakery!AU

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jar-full-of-pixel-hearts · 4 years

Text

Sugar Kiss Part 2

Part 1

Space Force Netflix

Fuck Tony Scarapiducci x Reader

Notes: I tried my best to stay accurate to the character of F. Tony and really hope you will like the way I write him. A comment will be really appreciated.

If you had some idea for a cute mood board header for this , just let me know !

* English is not my first language, I tried really hard to correct myself but, I hope you will excuse me if some mistakes are still there.

----

The light of the sun was pouring by the large windows of the front of the store. Splashing the pastel navy blue walls,making the pearly white tables glow and giving to the cupcakes, cakes and other pastries in the display a halo like a foodie filter.

Placing the last maple bacon donuts in the white box of your twelve specialties,you quickly closed the top before giving it to the last customers of this mid journey rush.

Even if the bakery had a regular flow of customers during the day. The most important part was usually in the morning, giving to the soldiers and citizens a breakfast on the go with a healthy / unhealthy muffin or a sugar rush with a little pastry, often joined by a coffee. The second was more in the middle of the afternoon, where the hard work of the day wakes up the craving of sugar, or, when dinner invitations are set and the idea of buying a cake for dessert in the simplest and laziest part of the preparation.

“ Here you go, have a nice day and please come back soon “ You finish the transaction, offering him a professional smile.

“ Thank you, have a good day too“ The man replied, pushing the exit door.

“ We just sold the last maple bacon donuts, but we still have some maple bacon square “ You inform Amber, the youngest member of your staff, working that day in the kitchen.

“ I can make another batch if you want “ She offert, watching you from the kitchen door put the little sold out card in the donuts display.

“ No, we will just make more tomorrow “ You reply, giving a glance to the large window where you can see the cars of news customers taking their place in the parking lot.

“ Okay, the eclairs are almost ready ! “

Your comeback in the small town of Wild Horse in Colorado, three years ago, wasn’t really what you expected of life. At least for the first years. Sure, a good part of your family was there and you hadn’t to deal with most of the problems of living in a big city. But, as a baker, the job opportunity was a little bit restricted, forcing you sometimes to work from home, using your own small kitchen.

Until last year. You were coming back from a personal delivery for a customer when you saw it. An empty store for rent, the perfect little shop for your cake and other sweets.

Helped by your uncle Brad and his wife. You started your small business, ending soon to meet a bigger success that expected. Mostly due to the sweet tooth of the many soldiers of the new military space base, your hard work and the fact that everybody in that little town knew how good your pastry was.

It takes you almost a month of running from the kitchen to the service counter and your generous but tired aunt, to realize you needed help. It was a true chance that Sylvia and Patrick, who were moving in town with their military partner, were searching for a baker job. Amber, at the time, was finishing school and wanted some work experience before trying to explore the world by herself.

Giving a glance at your phone, watching for a possible notification, you sadly put it back in the pocket of you apron. One week has passed since your last interaction with F. Tony via the Space Force Twitter and a small part of you, you had to admit, were secretly scared that he decided to stop the little game of tweet.

Never did it occur to you that he didn’t know that you were behind Moonlight Cake and his Twitter. After all, you both meet during one of your visits to your uncle. Did he never watch the cake box you carried ?

Well, to be fair, you didn’t either notice or remember a lot of things other than him that day.

The time was rainy and it was one of the first times you visited the work space of Brad. You knew that you crossed the path of some of your regular customers and that the low grade general was constantly talking about something you can’t remember. You somewhere get introduced to the general Naird who manages to be polite but exasperated of your civil presence at the same time.

But, your attention had suddenly been caught by the tall man in the light blue suit, tapping on his phone, contouring the solar system art piece like a pro before standing behind the four star general.

You knew at the first look on this hair gel, silk tie and leather shoes that this man wasn’t coming from town. Not that the mens of Wild Horse were ugly. Few were, in your opinion, actually kind of cute if you like the rural style, and they certainly could put together a suit and a tie if the occasion needed it. But, they still could never look as awesome as him.

“ Y/N, it’s F. Tony, F. Tony it’s Y/N my niece” Your uncle Brad introduces, his reserved voice telling you partly his opinion on the man.

“ Fuck Anthony Scarapiducci Media Manager. Really glad to meet you “ He continu, lifting his hand to shake yours, caughting your gaze with his sparkly brown eyes.

In that instant, in front of this white smile, you had the fastest crush of your life. You had tried to hide it as much as you could, smiling as you shaked his hand and hoped to not look like a fool.

“ Nice to meet you Mr. Scarapiducci, glad to meet you too” You had replied, secretly wondering if you seemed too casual in your jeans and loose blouse.

“ F. Tony please, or just Tony...Will you work with us ? “ He had kindly asked, putting his phone in his pocket.

“ No, actually I have a little store in town, I was just passing by to give my uncle some lemon squares “

“ That's so sweet of you, visiting your old uncle like that “

“ I’m not that old F. Tony…” Brad had vainly protested.

The general Naird had suddenly talked, cutting your conversation, ordering at Tony to come with him on his office for a thing he called a stupid meeting.

“ Follow us on Twitter and I hope to see you around sometimes “ The tall man told you, walking backward for a bit, following the quick path of the military man without turning his back.

Smiling, you waved your hand and promised to come back often.

And then, maybe a week later, the first tweet from Space Force to Moonlight cake came and you simply thought he knew. After all, he was always so nice and flirty each time that you visit the base. As well as in his tweet to the bakery.

The fact that he didn’t, took you by surprise. You knew that you could have simply answered him that you were behind Moonlight cake, but, the idea of making him discover by twitter had seemed more safer and tempting at the same time.

But now, after a week without an answer, you start to doubt that it was a good thing to do.

Serving the last customer of the day, you slowly turn the open card to close. Another good day over.

“ Y/N,I made a preparation in the fridge for tomorrow. If you don’t need me I will go home“ The voice of Amber calling you from the kitchen she just finished to clean.

“ Yes you can leave, thank you for today !” You answer, taking out the money of the cash register and putting it on the safe.

“ See you tomorrow, don’t work to late “

Waving of the hand, you promise, cleaning the counter of the others hand.

Keeping you busy with the cleanup of the store, trying to think of nothing other than the preparation for the next day, you suddenly stand up, the table you were cleaning forgotten.

In front of the glass door, a unusual shy smile on his lips, Fuck Tony Scarapiducci was waving at you.

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#space force #space force netflix #F. Tony #Fuck Tony Scarapiducci #F. Tony Scarapiducci #Fuck Tony x Reader #F. Tony x reader #Space force Fic #ben schwartz

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mothric · 3 years

Note

Your thoughts on eclairs? Or just donuts in general.

I had to search ‘eclair’ on google images because I thought to myself “they’re filled with cream, right? yeah. wait.... yeah.... right??”

anyway it’s clear I haven’t had an eclair in a very long time, or I wouldn’t have to double check that I know what one is. I like the little mini ones that come frozen, like cream puffs do. oh man. I’m craving mini-eclairs now.

donuts in general are valid, but I’m picky about the ones I like. french crullers are at the top for me. followed by anything with a high chocolate content. I prefer chocolate-based donuts rather than just chocolate icing.

the most superior form of donut is apricot paczki, though, and I will not budge on that.

#your thoughts on #veilder #thank u kind friend #nov 2020 #food

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lnc2 · 5 years

Text

give me a try

Summary: Ladybug grapples with her unrequited crush and upcoming heat. Chat Noir offers an alternative.

A/N: This is a gift work to myself because I fucking love A/B/O but can't write smut to save my life so here is something emotionally fraught instead.Thank you to the ever so lovely @alexseanchai for helping me proof read this. I've been staring at it for weeks now and I need you all to just TAKE THIS as a labor of love that no one asked for.

AO3

Ladybug chafed at the tight fabric of her suit. Something she shouldn’t have been able to feel but did anyway. Tikki, bless her, was under the impression transforming helped take the edge off and Marinette never really had the heart to tell her otherwise.

“Argh!”

She rolled over, pressing her face against the cool beam of the Eiffel tower. She liked it here, up high and out of bounds, well and away from any wanderers by. And if the wind caught her scent and carried it over the city – well, let it. She was absolutely miserable– might as well let Paris know.

She hated this.

Like clockwork, every three months, there it was. Her goddamn heat with its goddamn cravings and urges and overwhelming ugh.

She knew she should be at home, nesting, preparing for the inevitable. If her previous cycles were anything to go by she was due to enter delerium any day now. But she never was good at taking care of herself.

“Ah, I thought I heard a damsel in distress.”

Not like him anyways.

Ladybug snorted, the only acknowledgement she was willing to give her light-footed tomcat as he slinked into the space beside her. Chat Noir was all grins and hands and tail as he came into view.

“Wondered when you’d drag yourself out here.”

He clicked his tongue. “I’d say from the looks of things I’m not the one who’s been dragged.”

“Shut up.”

“But really, bug. You don’t look so great.”

Ladybug rolled over to scowl up at her partner. “Thanks.”

Chat laughed. “You know that’s not what I meant. If it’s any consolation you smell amazing.”

It shouldn’t have been. Not really. But she inwardly preened all the same.

Damn hormones.

It was all she could do to resist returning the compliment. Ladybug would never admit it, but she absolutely adored Chat’s scent. Something like wind and silver and leather – three years into their partnership and she’d never really been able to put a name to it.

Wild. He always smelled a little wild.

It made her feel itchy, calling out to deeper parts of her best left unexplored. Gave her dangerous ideas of taking him in, tucking him away someplace familiar and warm, and rolling around until his scent became hers became his and he didn’t smell so alone.

“No, what smells amazing is whatever you’ve got hidden behind your back.” Ladybug sat up, slowly, and grinned. “What did you bring me?”

“Why do you assume I’ve brought you anything?” He shook his head. “That’s very presumptuous.”

Not really. Not when he’d gotten into the habit of bringing her things like pastries and trinkets when her heats were coming on. It started with pain au chocolat, a favorite, and eventually left her with a treasure trove of silk scarves, handkerchiefs, and even a small satin pillow. Ladybug had a whole trunk full of Chat’s tokens, carefully kept apart from the rest of her nesting materials, and hidden away from her parents’ prying eyes. No one, not even Alya, had seen them.

She wouldn’t know how to explain them anyways.

The first time Chat brought her pastries she’d cried. It was an admitted overreaction on her part but it had been her first heat and she wasn’t used to the surge of hormones flooding her body. Chat, the poor boy, was horrified until she flung her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in his neck, nuzzling that oh-so-terrifying place just beneath his ear.

“Thank you, Chaton.”

He’d made sure to bring her pastries ever since.

Ladybug leaned forward, hands fighting to reach around him. He merely swatted her away, easier now as her reflexes were slowing down. She gave up, pouting.

“Please,” She said, batting her lashes as best she could. It was something she’d seen Rose do at Juleka nearly half a dozen times and it always seemed to work for her. Between that and her Teen Omega monthly subscription (her father’s misguided but endearing attempt at support) and all of its “instructional” articles about making your pheromones work for you she thought she had the look down pat.

Chat snorted, but handed over the bag anyways.

She squealed as she uncovered an eclair from one of the more expensive patisseries in the city. Mouthful of chocolate and creme, she sang his praises, the trouble of the day melting away like flaky pastry on her tongue.

At least, it was until Chat stiffened, his demeanor shifting from affable to guarded in an instant.

His nostrils flared. “What’s that?”

Confused, Ladybug followed his gaze to a piece of blue fabric folded neatly on her other side. She flinched as reminders of just exactly what had sent her out here tonight re-intruded on her hard earned peace.

It started at lunch.

Marinette remembered all too clearly watching Nino and Adrien’s frantic conversation from across the courtyard. Alya’s quiet teasing that they were talking about her. Her heart leaping in a belabored sort of way as the two pushed a brightly-wrapped gift back and forth to each other, wayward daydreams of Adrien coming over to declare his intentions, only for those thoughts to crash on the rocks of confusion as he pushed Nino in their direction. For a few brief moments as the rapidly blushing boy approached, she entertained the idea that he was coming over to talk to Alya– after all, they shared similar interests and a courtship there wasn’t completely outside the realm of possibilities– and Marinette was already turning to her friend when Nino reached them and practically shoved the gift into her hands.

“F-for you!” He said, dark cheeks flushing darker. “Your heat– for your rest. Your nest! Oh god.”

Marinette barely had time to blink before he was pulling his cap down over his face and running away, leaving her and Alya stunned in his wake.

“That was… unexpected.” Her best friend said watching the dj rush off into the school, Adrien following close behind.

It was more than unexpected. It was completely left field.

And left her clutching what could only be called a courting gift as her thoughts spiralled out of control.

As far as she could remember Marinette had never received a courtship gift before. And by all accounts Nino was a great guy and a good friend. He was a beta and took to it well, his calm presence balancing out the larger more outspoken alphas in their class. But she’d never really thought of him like that before. Not when there was Adrien– Adrien who she had spent the better part of three years adoring. Adrien who smelled like fresh linen, summer, and cut grass. Adrien who she’d just watched encourage his best friend to march over here and declare his interest with...with...

“It’s a blanket, Chat.”

“I can see that.” He drawled. “Why do you have it?”

“I don’t know really. It was a… gift. From a friend.”

“A friend.”

“Yeah,” She frowned, fingering the blanket. “At least, that’s what I thought he was.”

“You don’t anymore?”

“No, it’s not that it’s just–” She sighed. “With my heat coming on and everything I guess he just thought I could do with another blanket.”

“That’s a courting gift.”

Yeah, it was.

Ladybug didn’t really understand just why she’d decided to bring it out with her tonight. She could have left it at home, stashed it in the linen closet, or hell put it with her other nesting materials as was intended. But somehow none of those options felt right.

Alya had been less than helpful on the matter and she was too embarrassed to ask Sabine what she thought she should do. And as Marinette was already coming out of her skin with hormones as it was she thought maybe a clear head and Ladybug would be able to provide her with answers.

Her brain was distressingly silent on the matter.

She let out a groan and rubbed her hands down her face.

“Chaaaat,” She whined, peeking through her fingers at him. “I don’t know what to do about it.”

He leaned back on his hands. “What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know. That’s the problem! It’s just, ugh, no one’s ever... I’ve never… gotten something like this before.”

“What do you mean?”

Ladybug gestured towards the blanket. “You know. A courting gift. It’s my first one.”

“...Your first.” Chat echoed, sitting up. Ladybug nodded.

“Yeah. And like, I know what I’m supposed to do. I’m supposed to be thankful, accept it, and use it. But I don’t know, Chat. Accepting it from this friend just feels… wrong. Like I’m leading him on, you know?”

She turned to look at him, but he was facing out towards the city, forehead pinched into a frown.

“Chat?”

“I heard you, bug.” He said. She sighed.

“I just don’t know anymore. What would you want?”

Chat laughed. Ladybug jabbed his side.

“Stooop. I’m serious.”

“I know you are. That’s what’s funny.”

Ooh. She was too tired and achy and agitated for this.

She stood up, scowling. “Fine, don’t tell me. Have a goodnight Chat.”

He grabbed her arm, staying her. She watched him for a moment, but he wasn’t looking at her, focusing instead on the beam they were sitting on. She waited for him to say anything but when he didn’t she shook off his hand.

“Yes?”

Chat picked at his claws. “Do you want to know what I’d want you to do if it were me or do you want me to tell you what I want you to do now?”

Leave it to Chat to be cryptic.

She sat back down, arranging herself so she was facing his side, straddling the beam. “Is there a difference?”

He laughed, a low, humorless thing. “Yeah. Yeah there is.”

She frowned. “Then I guess… I guess I want to know what you would want.”

“Well,” He said, carefully. “If it were me who’d given you a courting gift I’d want you to keep it.”

“Even if I didn’t feel the same way?”

He flinched, but nodded all the same. “Yeah. Yeah I would. Because, well, I bought the gift with you in mind.”

“Oh,” She said.

The itchy feeling came back full force and she shifted uncomfortably on the beam. Doing her best to ignore it she pressed further. “But that’s not what you want me to do?”

He looked at her then, eyes green and electric and glinting with some deep something she couldn’t or wouldn’t put a name to.

“It’s not really up to me is it, my lady.” When she pouted at him he just shook his head. “Sorry. I think this is something you’ll have to figure out for yourself.”

She let out an explosive sigh.

“This sucks. Being an omega sucks.” She leaned forward to thump her head against his shoulder. “You’re lucky you’re an alpha. You don’t have to deal with this kind of thing.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Yeah, well, I’d take it any day over my body going into what is essentially a pregnancy trap every three months. I’m seventeen I don’t want kids right now.”

Chat smiled. “You don’t think of settling down, LB?

“Not like that.” She snapped. Pulling away to wrinkle her nose at her partner, she continued. “Besides, who would I even do that with?”

He waggled his eyebrows. Ladybug rolled her eyes.

“Be serious. Even the guy I am interested in clearly doesn’t see me the same way.” She gestured towards the blanket with a scowl. “He practically threw his best friend at me today.”

Adrien.

His name still whispered across her heart, but it was tainted now. Everything was tainted. If Nino liked her enough to give her courting gifts there’s no way Adrien would be remotely interested.

And damn her hormones to hell if she were going to cry about it again tonight. At least not in front of her partner.

Chat seemed to read enough of her distress all the same. He reached out and squeezed her hand, ignoring her quiet sniffling.

“You want to know,” He said, voice low as he slotted their fingers together. “What one of the nicest things about my costume is?”

Grateful for the shift in topic, she gave a wobbly smile.

“The tail?”

“No,” He said. “The pockets.”

She snorted. “Don’t remind me. It’s criminal that Tikki doesn’t give me any storage.”

Chat continued playing with her fingers. She let him, his touch helping center her growing restlessness as the evening wore on. A static sort of jitteriness she felt from her hair to her toes– an unpleasant all-consuming urge to just… do threatening to overwhelm her.

Do what exactly she wasn’t sure. But if being touchy with Chat helped take the edge off well, she wasn’t going to complain.

He laughed.

“They do come in handy. Let me carry things I normally couldn’t.”

“Like pastries?” She grinned.

“Among other things.”

Things like scarves and little silk pillows and heating bags. A clumsily embroidered handkerchief with a jagged green cat paw in the corner. A thermos full of hot lavender tea. The list went on and on.

A rush of feeling overcame her then, tears once again welling up in her eyes. Gods she really did have a wonderful partner.

“I’m definitely a fan.” She murmured, squeezing his hand.

Chat grimaced. “Yeah, well. I’ve never been able to carry anything big before but…”

She waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. Ladybug watched as he dropped her hand in favor of running his own through his hair, making even more of a mess of it. It found the back of his neck and stayed there, grip tight.

“But?” She prompted.

Abruptly, Chat swung around to mimic her position, legs straddling the beam. He was suddenly close, very close. Ladybug blinked and leaned back to put some distance between them.

“What do you do with all of it?” He asked. “With all of those things I bring you?”

“I–” She paused. “They’re in my closet.”

“And?” He pressed. “Do you use them?”

Uneasy, she deflected.“Why are you asking?”

“Come on, buginette. It’s an easy question. Do you use them?”

She blushed and cursed herself for it.

She had no reason to be embarrassed– they were her gifts. So what if she put them in her den? And so what if Chat Noir knew? That’s probably what he intended them for anyways. So why did admitting it out loud to her partner make it feel more… just more.

Best brazen her way through it and leave the feeling to be examined at a later date. Like never.

“Of course I do,” She said, spine stiff as she held his gaze.

“Oh,” He said, softly, eyes even softer. “That’s… that’s good.”

But Ladybug wasn’t so sure. Not when he was looking at her like that.

“Can I ask you something else?”

No, self preservation screamed. Warily, she nodded.

“What makes me different?”

Abort. Abort. Abort.

“What?” She said, stupidly.

Chat leaned forward and reached for her hands. “What makes my gifts any different than that blanket?”

Shocked, she pulled away, laughing shakily, “Chat, what are you talking about?”

“I just–” His hands lay outstretched on the beam between them where she’d dropped him. His claws tap-tapped at the metal. “If you think that was your first courting gift then I’ve been doing something wrong.”

He couldn’t have knocked the air out of her faster if he’d punched her in the stomach. Courting. This was about courting. His pastries, the fabric, his late night patrols before her heat– they were all byproducts of Chat’s desire to… for…

Her.

“I– you…”

Suddenly light-headed, her own hands fell to the beam, just out of reach of Chat’s.

He laughed, nervous.

“I thought– god, I don’t know what I thought. That maybe you were letting me down easy. Ignoring my intentions on purpose. Just… being kind?” His eyes watered. “I can’t believe you didn’t know.”

“Chat,” She whispered, not unkindly. “I… I like someone else.”

He shook his head. “I know. Someone who doesn’t even appreciate you.”

“Hey,” She chided, softly. “That’s not fair.”

In Adrien’s defense he was probably just as oblivious to her feelings as she’d been to Nino’s.

And Chat’s, apparently.

The simmering itchy feeling was back full force as he gently took her hands and lifted them to his lips.

“I appreciate you. I adore you.” He murmured.

“Oh,” She breathed.

His eyes were wide and nervous and filled with a sad sort of hope that made her want to pull him to her, hide him away, someplace safe, someplace warm.

God help her.

“I’m not asking you to make a decision.” He said, oblivious to her inner turmoil. “That wouldn’t be– I know you would need time. But just… if you can. Consider it. Consider me.”

Ladybug fought the urge to give in to hysteria.

Consider Chat?

Consider her stubborn, flirty, irresponsible tomcat? Consider her level-headed, earnest, loyal friend? The thought was no more foreign than it was terrifying.

Consider bringing him home, introducing him to her parents, introducing him to her den. Draping him in handkerchiefs and scarves and well-worn blankets and silk pillows. Spending time with him, spending her heats with him. Hands on hips on thighs and teeth on lips on ears on neck. Biting him and claiming him and being claimed in return. Sharing heat and sheets and hearts.

It wasn’t hard to imagine and wasn’t that just the scariest thought of all.

Chat was already all over her home, her nest… her heart? She suspected she wouldn’t have to search her feelings very far to find him there.

“Ladybug?” He whispered, eyes wide and searching.

She realized she’d been leaning in then, her face inches away from his.

What will it take for you to see me? They seemed to ask.

She was seeing him now.

Steeling herself, Ladybug brought her trembling hands to his face.

“Hold still,” She said and he listened, a little too well. “Breathe.”

Chat took a shaky breath, watching with dilated pupils as she came closer and closer until they were nose to nose.

“Hi,” She murmured.

“H-hi.”

Brushing their noses together, Ladybug detoured to his cheek to his jaw to his throat, grazing the space just beneath his ear where his scent was the thickest. Wind and silver and leather.

Wild.

Her heart pounded loudly in her ears and her suit was sticky and tight and altogether too much at once as the restless aimless itching surged over her, purpose locked. Chat’s breath stuttered to a halt and his hands fell useless to his lap as her lips grazed his skin, pressing the lightest of kisses there.

“My lady?” He asked, breathless and eager and wondering.

“Maybe, Chaton.” She said, slowly pulling back to meet his eyes.

“Yeah?”

Ladybug smiled. “I’ll consider it.”

#miraculous ladybug #lnc2 writes #LadyNoir #aged up #pre-animan #one-sided ninette #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics #courtship #alpha! Chat noir #omega! ladybug #more emotions than anything #heat #think of it like a period babes #discussion of ~feelings~

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