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gutsby · 2 days

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Love Tap

Pairing: Dad!Joel x Reader

Summary: Old habits die hard with your husband—touching you at inappropriate times is one of them.

Warnings: 18+. Joel Miller is a MUNCH Oral (f!receiving). Unprotected p-in-v (quickie). Slice of life, domestic-style and Joel calls you ‘Mama’ a whole lot. One playful bite.

Word count: 2.4k

Note: ‘You better back the fuck up before you get smacked the fuck up’ is a line from 2Pac’s song, ‘Hit ‘Em Up.’

Joel Miller was a wonderful father.

Occasionally, he forgot how to act like one.

He had a tendency to get a little careless. Sloppy.

Letting the dignified, ever-respectful façade slip every now and again and smacking your ass when you walked past. Copping a feel when you had to squeeze by him in the kitchen. Best of all, pinching your cheek through your skirt while you were cradling the baby—his baby—and leaving you no choice but to shoot him a quick back-the-fuck-up-before-you-get-smacked-the-fuck-up look and a covert middle finger to remind him that he wasn’t supposed to be slapping your butt in front of the kids.

It was just bad practice to engage in those dumb, flirty antics, particularly when your four-year-old son had made it his mission in life to imitate everything dad did.

But again, Joel would sometimes forget that.

On a morning when he’d woken up a little too early with an erection that was a tad too stubborn to ignore, he got especially forgetful. He found himself plastered to your backside at the edge of the bathroom counter with a grin, knowing damn well you only had twenty-five minutes to get the family dressed, fed, and on the road.

“Joel, you are so—”

“Quick. I’ll be quick.”

His eyes suddenly pleading with yours in the mirror. You just might’ve had the willpower to turn his honeyed gaze away were it not for the lips that followed it. Tracing the shell of your ear and behind it, down your neck, leaving trails of soft kisses down the skin until he reached the collarbone, your sweet spot, and licked it—the bastard.

“Five. Minutes.” Your words were equal parts invitation and warning as you shimmied your PJs over your butt.

“You know I’ll have ya finished in two, sweet pea,” Joel teased—but deep down, you knew he wasn’t kidding.

Both of you had cum and were done in a record-breaking four and a half minutes, swapping pyjamas for normal clothes in less than half the time and stepping back out of the bathroom with your hair only marginally tousled.

By now you had the ‘Pre-K starts in thirty’ types of quickies down pat. You were proud. You glanced over your shoulder to see a similar glint in Joel’s eye, and as you started out the bedroom door, you felt a tap on your ass—or, with the sheer breadth of your husband’s hand, more like a WHACK, followed by the sound of a stifled laugh.

“Can Daddy get some more’a that later?” he quipped.

“More’a what?”

Aw, hell.

Your sweet, forever nosy mini-Joel was standing directly in front of you with two pinched brows and a mostly eaten dino nugget clenched tight in his tiny fist.

You opened your mouth to conjure up some half-assed excuse for the spank your son just saw, but then your husband was scooping the kid up in his arms and toting him straight down the hallway, and you heard, faintly:

“Whatcha gettin’ from Mama later?”

“None of your beeswax, bubs.”

Joel got his second helping around lunchtime.

He’d been in between calls with what felt like an endless stream of subcontractors, suppliers, architects, and project managers when he swung by the house. You were in the midst of baking cardamom buns when he blew through the kitchen like an EF5 tornado and decided he’d be feasting on something else entirely.

“Joel, my buns,” you whined as soon as he’d carried you up the stairs and tossed you onto the bed, eager as ever.

“Fuck your buns.”

“You already fucked ‘em this morning—can you relax?”

Your husband already had your pants tugged halfway down your legs. You let him, then helped him kick the fabric the rest of the way off when it got to your ankles.

“You’re a fuckin’ maniac, Miller, y’know that?”

Something in the way he smirked as he sank his face between your bare thighs told you he already knew that. You would’ve liked to try and scold him again—give him a little more grief for the baked treats that would surely be burnt to a crisp by the time he was done—but then you felt his tongue lick a stripe up your slit, and you refrained.

Even if you’d wanted to, you scarcely would’ve been able to form a single word apart from, ‘Fu-cking hell, Joel’ and ‘Right there, right thereohfuuuuuuckfuckfuck.’

That was just fine by your husband.

In fact, he seemed perfectly content to lap at your slick, glistening folds while you moaned and cursed his name; it made him proud. Appreciative. Maybe even a tad too smug for his own good, if he were being honest, because the way you fisted his hair and rutted your hips against his face made you act a little more like him. A touch more reckless, sloppy, and desperate than your daily obligations as parents would seem to allow. A bit less proper and refined and a lot more slutty—all for him.

Joel teased your clit with a few soft touches from the tip of his tongue, and you almost tore the sheets in two.

“That feel good, Mama?” he hummed.

“F-Fingers, fuck, Joel— fingers,” you begged.

Still using his tongue, Joel drew the shape of a lemniscate extra slow just to spite you. You whined and bucked your hips in protest, but the man was undeterred—he knew exactly what he was doing. The only way he could be tempted to use his fingers now would be to spread your lips apart and lick you more, which he did.

Joel licked and sucked and drove you up the fucking wall with those figure eights until you nearly couldn’t take it. In one hasty, desperate move, you tilted your hips and tried to slip a finger past Joel’s mouth, into your cunt.

He bit that finger. You yelped.

“JOEL!”

It wasn’t that the bite actually hurt—his teeth barely grazed skin—but rather the way he refused to speed up. Gauging your wants and your needs with expert precision, he massaged the hood of your clit with his tongue and took care to plant suckling kisses as he did. You moaned and squeezed the bedspread, relishing the vulgar sounds of his mouth and the need he was building inside you. You turned your head to the side and whined into the pillow, knowing from the depths of your soul you needed release, but Joel just wouldn’t oblige you…yet.

When he grinned against your wet, warm, and slippery folds, his mouth might as well have joined in and said, ‘Keep going—you’ll cum on my tongue when I say so.’

Instead, Joel opted to say ‘Mama’ again, softly.

Mama.

He always called you that when he took you extra slow. Sometimes when he took you quick, too. Like a reminder to you both that you were, in fact, the mother of his children, and if the man had had it his way he’d have given you fifty more by now, daycare bills be damned.

He was generous like that. Always giving, giving, giving.

Just not when it came to doling out orgasms sometimes.

“I have a divorce lawyer on speed dial, just so you know,” you hissed through gritted teeth, head falling back when Joel’s tongue sank forward—inside you, then, “FUCK!”

“Mhmmm,” he hummed before retracting once more. Licking the soft, fleshy rim and nearly eliciting a scream.

Joel traced a circle with his tongue. He savored the taste. While you were whining and grinding your hips against the wet spot underneath you—a puddle that would only grow larger the longer he went on—your husband was devouring you, kissing your thighs every now and then.

“Well, if we split, my tongue goes too,” Joel said. Smug.

“Texas is a community property state,” you murmured, “I taught you how to eat pussy so your mouth is a marital asset.”

Silently, Joel wondered how that argument might hold up in court, grinned, then continued licking your cunt. You squeezed his head with your thighs, dug the balls of your feet in the sheets, and let out a lewd, pornographic scream that could’ve woken half the street. Luckily, your neighbors were probably all at work, your bedroom walls insulated just well enough to mask the noise, and Joel’s resolve crumbling slowly as he kissed between your legs.

One wanton, shameless, ‘I’m gonna cum, Joel, please’ was like music to his ears. He couldn’t believe how lucky he’d gotten with a wife and mother as sweet as you, so upright and polite in your day-to-day life and then a hot, trembling mess beneath his tongue when he needed you like this the most. Surely he couldn’t treat you so mean.

Joel wedged two thick fingers in your slick, dripping heat and beckoned you to him as kindly as he possibly could. Rubbing the pads of both digits, callused as they were, against the spongy insides of your core and flicking them forward—‘C’mere, Mama, Daddy’s right here, go on’— so of course, you had no other logical choice but to cum.

It was all habit by now. A dazzling, sumptuous routine.

And Joel Miller was certain he’d never tire of seeing it.

Your spine arched off the mattress an inch or two, toes curling at the feeling, and while the sensation spanned over your body, your husband was the first to see it, sense it on his lips and tongue and fingers just as well. He squeezed your hip, told you how fucking pretty you looked when you came for him, then patiently waited out the spasms and cries and fingers lacing through his soft, dark locks like he was your last remaining tether to earth.

Then he kissed the inside of your thighs and smiled.

“All better, honey?” he hummed.

“Yeah,” you breathed back.

“Still want a divorce?”

A smirk and a response of ‘Not until you knock me up at least one more time’ was hovering somewhere over your tongue when you felt the bed shake. Buzzing. Vibrating?

Joel sat up between your legs and yanked something out from under his ass. He peered down at the thing—staring into a screen—and cocked a brow as he looked back up.

“Someone’s been naughty,” he said simply. Grinning.

He lobbed the phone your way, and you just barely managed to catch it between two trembling hands.

Incoming Call: Francisco C. Morales Elementary

You shot Joel a look and answered it instantly.

Disoriented, disheveled, and slightly foggy from climax, you half-expected to find one of your son’s disgruntled teachers on the other end of the line, reminding you that today was a noon dismissal and everyone was supposed to pick their kids up an hour ago. Your husband was the one who would always keep up with school schedules, so your gaze narrowed at him, butt scooting up the bed while he tried to dive right back between your legs.

“He-llo?”

You smacked a hand away from the front of your blouse.

“Is this Mrs. Miller?” a voice trilled through the phone.

Yes, unfortunately, it was.

You almost had to backhand Joel across the face when he tried to bite the button off your brand new top, teeth ruthless in their pursuit of getting you fully naked now.

“This is she,” you squeaked.

Someone cleared their throat on the other end of the line—as though they knew you had a broad, hulking husband with a cock as hard as sheet metal trying to tear your clothes off while you talked. You stifled a shriek and a giggle when you felt your relentless man move down.

Joel was busy working your blouse from the bottom with that feral mouth of his when the voice sounded again:

“We’d really appreciate it if you and your husband could come see us this afternoon to have a little chat about—”

Your eyes widened. You clutched your phone even tighter and this time, more seriously, shoved Joel away. When he frowned and started to pout, you raised a finger.

“A-About what? Has my— has he done something bad?” Your voice all of a sudden tight, words wavering just enough to snag your husband’s attention too.

“We can explain more when you get here, he’s just…”

‘What the fuck?’ Joel mouthed silently, leaning in.

“What? What’s he done?” You couldn’t help it.

You heard a long sigh across the line, and you knew that wasn’t good. It sounded a lot like the kind of sighs you made whenever your baby made a colossal mess all over the kitchen floor, or your husband slammed a door too loud and woke the kids from their nap, or your son just—

“—keeps slapping his classmates on the butt.”

“Wait, what?”

You blinked. Joel coughed. Together, half-naked on the bed, you sat up a little straighter and leaned even closer into the phone, hearts starting to thud in your chests.

“Your son was just…spanking other kids and asking if he could ‘get some more’a that later,’ and when his teacher asked him where he’d learned to do a thing like that—”

You turned. Joel paled. Your gaze could’ve seared a hole through the front of his skull if you stared any harder, and just as your son’s principal continued talking, Joel raised his hands in surrender, already trying to apologize.

“Honey—”

“—and he told her he saw your husband do it at home—”

You didn’t need to hear another word. You were already fishing for your pants, yanking them back up your legs and brushing aside your husband’s soft, red-faced attempts at consolation, and when you were dressed, you started straight for the door. Already babbling some half-coherent apology to the woman on the phone, dodging Joel’s impossibly large hands and arms and hugs as he tried to pull you back into his chest and tell you he was sorry. You just might’ve let him, and maybe even believed him to be sincere, if you didn’t see the tiniest smirk on his lips as he fought to wrangle you in.

You’d made it to the door and were just about to pivot to give Joel the finger, tell him this was not funny at all, and he was coming with you right now, when both of you halted at the threshold and were obliged to turn again.

You sniffed the air, and your husband made a face.

Was it—

Before you could think, a plume of smoke drifted out through the kitchen door. Your eyes widened, and right as the fire alarm let out its piercing scream, you wailed,

“My buns!”

#C’EST LA PLUS BELLE 🍕 QUE J’AI JAMAIS VU LE FROMAGE EST FRAIS C’EST VRAIMENT MIEUX QUE LE DERNIER FILM DE GÉRARD DEPARDIEU #if anyone knows how to get a song unstuck from their head please lmk LOL #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel tlou #the last of us fic #the last of us #tlou

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missroki · 5 months

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HONEY, I’M HOME! | ONE-SHOT

put the champagne on ice because it’s time for a celebration! your husband knows he won’t be home in time for your anniversary dinner, but surely you can find another way to entertain yourself. speaking of which… what was that noise?

content: female reader x satosugu, reader wears dresses and has acrylic nails, threesome, c*cking, oral (reader receiving), male m*sturbation, cheating, fingering, cum eating, breeding, mention of pregnancy and children, neglectful husband. word count: 2.4k

suguru isn’t surprised, really, when he enters his home to find that the table is already set. tall ivory candles sit half melted in their brass holders, lines of wax hardened on their polished sides. he can tell by the disheveled state of the kitchen that you must have worked hard on dinner tonight. it’s what you always do when he comes home from an overseas trip. today is no exception.

it makes him regret being late again, but not enough to have phoned home, hoping you wouldn't be too angry at him if he showed up with a pretty diamond brooch. he toes off his dress shoes, tosses them recklessly so that they hit the side table. he loosens his tie as he calls out your name.

silence. not even your irritable humming that he’s grown to tolerate.

when he doesn’t hear a response, sugur peers into the coat closet. empty. and walks the few paces into the home to check the guest bathroom. also empty. to his surprise, he doesn’t find you cheekily hiding in it to surprise him. considering the very long text message you’d sent him to remember your anniversary — he expected you to greet him at the door in one of your pretty little dresses and push him into the dining room with a glass of red wine.

ever since the two of you moved into this neighborhood, you’ve played the role of pretty, doting housewife. you mingled frequently with the older more seasoned women, gossiping on brunch dates about your husbands and kids. you even started appeasing the neighborhood watch with baked goods and begged suguru to give hefty donations into the construction of new homes.

you wanted desperately to be accepted, for them to not see the old you under the expensive makeup and designer clothes. of course, your husband knew how important this was for you. how lonely you got when he was away.

you wanted a family, three kids minimum with one big dog and two cats. later, suguru had said, once we settle in and build a life. but you were getting impatient, he could tell. your kisses were getting lighter, your sex life fizzling out after the third time he’d insisted on cumming on your tits instead of in your cunt.

you stopped going to your brunches and would barely get out of bed most days. it’s one of the few reasons why suguru spent so much time working. your sad eyes made him feel guilty, the way you dragged yourself out of bed only to cook and shower made him feel off-kilter. he had tried shopping sprees and fancy dinners but it wasn’t enough for you… until one day it just was.

he couldn’t explain it but you’d recently started going out again, socializing with neighbors and going to barbecues. you’d even let him touch you, practically riding him within an inch of his life after weeks of nothing. with your anniversary now here, suguru was certain he had helped you come to your senses, but where were you?

the man makes his way down the main hall, releasing the upper half of his hair from its confining bun. he hopes you aren’t in bed again, or if you are that you’re laying there bare and prepped. he lifts a hand up to run through his black strands, only to pause midway as he hears a steady… thump.

thump thump thump he hears a few doors down. it seems you are in the bedroom as expected but…

“he’s gonna be home soon! we need to— ah! —we need to s–stop.”

a man’s voice responds to you, one that makes the hair on the back of suguru’s neck stand up. "fuck you’re so tight, don’t think about him, baby. focus on me."

suguru feels his mouth dry out as he moves further down the hallway, eyes widening as he stands outside your bedroom door. the closer he gets, the thumping turns into wet slaps. what he imagines are strong hips colliding against your own as you claw at the bedsheets; an action you had always done with him because you were his. there was no possible way you’d let his best friend fuck you in his own home. you would never.

“t–toru please, i–i need you!"

you wouldn’t.

"yeah, baby?” suguru can hear you gasp, knowing satoru must have found that soft doughy spot inside you. “that’s the spot isn’t it?”

the door is not wide open, but just enough that suguru can see his worst nightmare playing out in front of him.

his eyes zero in on the way your legs are wrapped around satoru’s tapered waist, your arms clinging to his broad shoulders as his strong hips meet yours. you look so blissed out, tilting your head back in ecstasy to give his best friend access to the sensitive skin of your neck. how could he? how could you?

you took your vows with him, it was suguru who took you in when you were nothing but poor trash on a street corner. him who begged satoru to not tell his parents how you really met. the thought of you betraying him this way makes his hands curl into fists.

he can’t help but feel jealous, how could he not? and who were you to make him feel jealous? you’re angry at him for neglecting you; spreading your legs for someone that suguru always felt second best to. you’re punishing him, you must be.

even so, he can’t will himself to intervene. he wants to drag you both out of his house and throw you back on the curb. he wouldn’t even let you grab your clothes — no. he wanted you exposed and cold on the porch so that all your neighbors knew how much of a whore you truly were. would they see his friend’s spend dripping down your supple thighs onto the pavement? see your nipples harden as you tried to cover yourself up?

even with all this anger, suguru can’t tear his eyes away from the sight. he thought he’d heard every whimper and moan from you but… not like this. you were so loud and out of breath, voice cracking as you clawed at satoru’s back with your pretty acrylics. you’d never been so good for him, so pliant.

he's still pissed, furious even. but from his position at the door he can see so much; satoru’s fat cock disappearing into your sloppy pussy; the shake of your tits with each thrust and the way satoru wraps his tongue around your perky nipples. suguru can even see the red crescents in your skin from where he grips the fat of your thighs.

he’d been with you more times than he could count but… suguru has never seen this much of his best friend. maybe in high school he’d had little peeks in locker rooms but right now he can see the muscles of his back vividly, how they turn and flex with each thrust. he can see the way satoru’s sweat drips down onto your body, his hand coming up to push soaked white strands back out of his face.

it’s only when his cock stirs in his slacks that suguru is honest with himself. he was jealous not only of satoru, but of you, too. he wanted to be pressed between the two of you, burying his cock in your hole while satoru plowed into his from behind.

he imagines worshiping your body with his tongue as satoru gripps his dark strands, bangs falling into his eyes as you begged him for more. more.

"you’re so pretty like this," satoru buries his face into your neck, pulling you tighter against his body so that you are chest to chest. "suguru doesn’t make you feel this way, does he?”

"n–no. never!”

“then tell me i’m better.”

“you’re — oh fuck — you’re better! ‘toru, i’m s–so close."

"yeah? can feel you squeezing me, does it feel that good?" he’s teasing you, just the way you like.

"fuck," suguru closes his eyes, his palm rubbing against his slacks, gripping his throbbing cock to the wet sounds of another man pounding into you. it’s so fucked. he knows this. but he can’t stop himself from unbuttoning his pants and tugging his cock out of his boxers. you didn’t know he was there but you both owed it to him. he just wanted a taste of what you had.

his breath hitches when satoru suddenly pulls out, flipping you onto your stomach before slamming back into your cunt. your body is pressed into the mattress, screams muffled as satoru fucks you at a agonizing pace. suguru starts to slowly pump his cock, letting a glob of spit land on his hand as it mixes with his precum.

he tries his best to match satoru’s thrusts, focusing on the way your ass jiggled everytime his hips slammed into the soft flesh. he can already tell from here that your skin will have bruises. how many times have you said no to sex to cover up the marks, satoru’s scent still on your skin? how many times did he find you asleep in bed, just narrowly missing his best friend sneaking out the back door?

“fuck! faster, p–please!”

"shh, it’s alright, baby. i’ve got you."

"i–i love you, ‘toru." suguru can see you push yourself back to meet satoru’s thrusts and he grips his cock harder. “cum inside me.”

god, he’s fucking you raw, isn’t he?

satoru moans out your name, pressing his face into your spine. you bend so prettily for him, force yourself to be smaller so that he can take up all of the room you have left. “i love you, too, sweet girl. gonna get you pregnant, yeah?”

you arch your back even further, looking behind you for the first time only to lock eyes with your husband in the doorway. your makeup is wrecked, your hair in disarray. you can’t help but to shiver at the intrusion, feeling more exposed than you ever have before.

and something about the… way your pleasure filled gaze turns into fear has suguru cumming suddenly, grunting and failing to keep his moans at bay as he shamefully covers the wood floors and the front of his pants.

he doesn’t have time to question why satoru doesn’t seem fazed, the man gently pushing your head back down against the bed and continuing to chase his high. you gasp and try to lift yourself back up.

"hold on! satoru—"

"thought i told you to ignore him?" he says, a sly grin on his face. satoru glances back at his friend and lets out an amused laugh at his disheveled state. “never took you for a voyeur, suguru. isn’t your wife such a good girl?”

you can’t help the way your pussy clenches around him and satoru lifts his hands to squeeze your ass, spreading you open to spit on your hole. “gonna breed this tight little cunt like it deserves. couldn’t wait around for you to do it, right?”

suguru watches with bated breath, a hand lifting to grip the doorframe. he continues rocking his hips into his soiled hand. “be quiet,” he growls, shame traveling up his chest as a blush trickles up his neck and cheeks.

satoru doesn’t slow down and you’ve all but fallen limp in his arms. as he finally cums, satoru makes sure to be loud, making a show out of the final spurts of white that he pushes deep inside your womb. he pulls out slowly, hissing as he watches your pulsing heat fight to keep him inside.

satoru glances back at the doorway.

“i know you’re angry at me or whatever, but i’m all spent and she still hasn’t came.” the white haired man looks at suguru with almost crazed eyes. “help her out, won’t you?”

at first, you look up at him in shock. “satoru–”

“this is what you wanted, right? for him to notice you.” he grabs your hips and flips you onto your back, dragging you to the edge of the bed like you weigh nothing. “seems like a perfect opportunity to me, then.”

suguru watches as the two sets of eyes look at him expectantly, his hand going still as he weighs his options. “this stays between us, satoru” he chastises, making his way over to the bed and dropping to his knees.

“don’t worry, your perversion will be safe with me.” he sends him another dazzling grin, pressing a kiss to your knee. “now, get to work. you’ve neglected her long enough.”

suguru looks at the mess between your legs, salivating at the sight. his cum covered hand grips your thigh, the other spreading you apart to watch the way your pussy pushes satoru’s cum out in buckets. he leans in to lick a long stripe from your hole to your clit, both of your juices coating his tongue in a salty glaze. “so good,” his voice is muffled as he moans, using both hands now to keep your thighs from closing around his head.

“sugu!” you gasp, satoru leaning over to tweak your sensitive nipples with his thumb and forefinger. you struggle against the overwhelming sensations, gripping on your husband’s dark hair as he fucks his tongue into you while simultaneously trying to move away from satoru’s hand.

you know you won’t be able to last long like this, your thighs shaking as suguru begins to thrusts his cum soaked fingers into your cunt. you feel a familiar pressure against your belly but something foreign lies underneath it.

“w–wait i don’t,” you whimper. “i’m gonna–”

a burst of liquid pours out of you, soaking your husband’s face as you spasm against him. “holy shit,” satoru sings, “look at you go!” suguru is drinking you in like a man starved, sucking and nuzzling his face into your cunt.

“sorry!” you whimper as you ride out your high, “‘m so sorry!”

suguru can barely remember his name over the ringing in his ears.

when you start to whine from overstimulation, satoru grips the back of his friend’s head and lifts him away from you. his face is ruined, dripping with both of your juices and his eyes looking even more hooded than usual.

satoru smiles down at him. “isn’t she amazing? put on a good show for you, yeah?”

suguru’s chest heaves as his dark eyes connect with deep blues. “i hate you,” he groans, roughly pushing away the hand in his hair.

satoru laughs, pulling you into his arms so that your back is against his chest. “hey, sweet girl,” you gaze up at him with drooping eyes, his hand gripping your chin. “you got one more for me? i think your hubby is hard again.”

MISSROKI. all original work. do not plagiarize, translate, or repost. this includes feeding my work to ai apps and sites.

#‧₊˚ 🖇️ ۫ ⭒ — sorin writes.#gojo x reader #geto x reader #gojo x female reader #geto x female reader #gojo x black reader #geto x black reader #gojo x geto x reader #satosugu x reader #satosugu smut #gojo smut #geto smut #angelshubnetwork

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miffysrambles · 6 months

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can you do reader feeds sun wukong peach deserts she baked for him? it can be like a peach cobbler pie or something else like longevity peach bun

ahhh this is so cute（＾ω＾） !!!

Wukong with an S/O who bakes him peach desserts

Wukong LOVES your baking, like goodness it’s some of the best food he’s ever had and that’s saying a lot!

Your longevity peach buns are his favorites, he’ll ask you to make him some quite often.

“Heyyy peaches? About those peach buns… you got any more?”

You laugh softly as you handed him a bamboo bun steamer filled to the brim with his favorite flavored buns.

He also loves it when you feed it to him, like the cheeky monkey he is.

The end of his tail wags profusely as you lead the peach bun to his face, opening his mouth and holding his cheeks while he chews, the blush on his cheeks apparent.

“Mmmmm sho ghood…”

You laugh softly as he praises your food while talking with his mouth full, flicking crumbs off his cheek.

He gives you a fake glare as he gently pushes your hand away,

“Hey! No flicking off the crumbs, I want those too.”

He licked the remaining crumbs of the buns off his fingers while smiling as he makes you laugh.

Sometimes, he’ll even split one of the buns with you as he rips it in half.

“A peach for my peach! Here ya go sunshine, now savor it because I don’t share my food with others often.”

You smile as you kiss his cheek and eat your half of the bun, feeling his tail snake around your waist as he pulls you closer to him.

His arm wraps around your shoulders as you two eat your peach bun, talking about whatever is happening in your lives and things about each other.

#ask #lmk x reader #lego monkie kid x reader #lmk wukong #lego monkie kid wukong #lmk sun wukong #lego monkie kid sun wukong #lmk wukong x reader #lego monkie kid wukong x reader #wukong x reader #lmk sun wukong x reader #lego monkie kid sun wukong x reader #sun wukong x reader #lmk monkey king x reader #lego monkie kid monkey king x reader #monkey king x reader

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padfootagain · 4 months

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Blackout

Hi everyone! Here comes another fic for Hozier! Hope you like it! It isn’t an enemies to lovers, honestly, more like an… annoyed to lovers.

Hope you like this! Tell me what you think!

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Pairing: Hozier x reader

Warnings: none, it’s cute! Adorable even. Lots of interrupted kisses. Annoyed to lovers instead of a real enemies to lovers

Summary: Your new neighbour is insufferable with his music-making and his pretty face and his unbearably tall frame. Or is he? Maybe a blackout through your neighbourhood will make you change your mind about him.

Word Count: 5568

Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

It wasn’t that you hated him, really. You reckoned that you didn’t know the guy enough to hate him.

It was just that… he simply… got on your nerves.

Why? Well, the fact that your new neighbour was blasting electric guitar and wailing at 2am was a good start. And then there was just… something… something off. You couldn’t explain it. You just saw him and you went nope.

And that was probably mean, and uncalled for, to be fair. He seemed nice enough, during the day, when he was not waking you up at an ungodly hour. He was good-looking too, and he had a nice soothing voice, quiet and surprisingly gentle considering that he was a fucking giant…

Still, you couldn’t forgive him for ruining your nights and never even apologising. Or actually, he did apologise. Every time. And then, he went ahead and did it all over again the next day. The fact that he was a famous musician (that you had obviously recognised, you did not live under a rock, after all) was no excuse to bother your neighbours when they had jobs to go to in the morning.

What a jerk…

Still, you did need some flour to bake these cookies due for your friend tomorrow, now that your little demon of a black cat had dropped the whole thing on the floor… and then decided to roll in it so he could paint your entire kitchen with powder.

What a day…

So, that was the reason why you were now knocking on your neighbour’s door. It was a small building you lived in, with only three flats, and you knew that the couple upstairs were away, gone on vacation somewhere hot and sunny to drink fancy colourful cocktails, the lucky bastards. Meanwhile, you remained in your small town, while it was freezing cold outside, sky as grey as your mood, forced to see this unbearably annoying neighbour of yours…

You knocked a second time, perhaps he had not heard you. You knew he was in, there was light coming out from underneath his door. The shop in your village was closed today. He was your only hope to get these cookies of yours, sadly…

Finally, the door opened. Or well, it was flung open, actually. A grumpy look on handsome features appeared, towering you with his full height, long brown curls messily tied in a bun.

“Hi!” you forced a smile. “Sorry to bother you, but I… have a small flour issue. Could I borrow you some?”

Andrew raised a surprised eyebrow, but nodded anyway.

“Need anything else?” he asked, and his voice was softer than the look on his face would have suggested.

“No, thanks. Just flour.”

He seemed unsure of what to do with his long limbs for a moment, staring at you before he turned in a jolt, hurried back inside. You noticed that he hadn’t bothered with a hello.

What a je…

“I don’t have much left, I hope you’ll have enough.”

He handed you his half-empty bag of flour with a smile. It was pretty, even if it was unmistakeably polite more than anything else.

Why on earth were you thinking that, by the way?

“Thanks! I’ll bring this back quickly, promise.”

He merely gave you another smile, clearly uncomfortable.

“Okay, bye!”

You spun around before he could do anything but mumble a ‘goodbye’, and disappeared in your flat, just across the hall.

Leaning against your front door after closing it, you tried to remember how much of a jerk that man was. How annoying he was. And most of all, you tried not to think of how gorgeous his hazel eyes were…

There was a noise before you, and when you lifted your eyes, Salem was staring at you, paws and fur still partially covered in white flour.

Damn…

It wasn’t that he hated you, really. Andrew reckoned that he didn’t know you enough to hate you.

It was just… simply that you… made him nervous.

There was something about you that just made him struggle to breathe all of a sudden. The fact that the first conversation you had was you not-so-politely telling him to shut up already might have something to do with that. The fact that your cat had been peeing right before his front door on several occasions also played in your disfavour. And perhaps there was also the fact that he found you breathtaking, that he loved the sound of your voice, and that every time he saw you he was torn between an urge to snap at you and another to kiss you to finally make you shut up already. He also sometimes wanted to throw your cat out of the building, but he was too kind-hearted for this to ever fall into the ‘feasible’ category.

The other ones of his urges though…

He shook himself, focused on his guitar again, reached for the cup of tea by his side, sliding the two teabags to the side to take a sip. He needed to focus. He had a song to finish, damn it…

But then again, writing in this small flat he was renting wasn’t ideal. The roof of his home needed to be fixed, he couldn’t stay there for several weeks in a row while people were working on it. And as he was in desperate need for a place to stay while his roof was being repaired, and unwilling to simply stay at a friend’s house for weeks, he wasn’t picky when it came to the choice of flat for this short rental. He would be staying only for a few weeks anyway. He saw the flat on Air BnB, figured it would do, and moved in for six weeks.

The paper-thin walls were a challenge though. And being the night-owl he was, it was tough working only throughout the day.

He took a look at the clock on the wall. 9pm… surely he could make a little bit of noise still. No adult was going to sleep so early these days, lives were too busy for that, workdays too long.

He started recording, trying to get a few back-up vocals in. He could record some guitar quietly later, but he did need some strong vocals to get a feeling of the song. Perhaps it would help him finish this bunch of lyrics he was stuck with.

He had been working for around twenty minutes when he heard someone knocking on his door.

He stopped mid-note, cursing at the interruption. Your interruption, without a doubt…

He needed to work, it was still early, and you were getting on his nerves so fucking much…

He opened his door a little too hard, a dark expression adorning his features. And he was even angrier at you when he found you wearing casual clothes, a warm oversized hoodie and some sweatpants. He was infuriated by your messy hair and the way he wanted to run his fingers through it. He was so frustrated by the white traces of flour splattered across your cheek and sleeves and fingers, and how adorable they made you look. Cosy and comfortable and making him feel lonely like this, on his own, recording alone and singing to no one, making him want to hold you through the night…

“Hi!” you spoke first, but he noticed at once how forced your smile was. “Sorry to bother you, but I… have a small flour issue. Could I borrow you some?”

He was so surprised, he had to raise an eyebrow at that. No complaints about his singing? No… complaints in general? Were you alright?

He wondered why he was so surprised by that, anyway. You seemed to be lovely. He simply had never had the occasion to properly talk to you, that was all…

He nodded.

“Need anything else?” he asked, making his voice softer, knowing he had been a little rough as he had opened the door.

And for God’s sake, he had not even said hello! You would think he was an absolute knob… Was it too late to say hello? Yeah, of course, it was too late, he was pathetic, and there it was again, you were making him so damn nervous, staring at him with these beautiful eyes of yours…

“No, thanks. Just flour.”

He wasn’t sure what to do. For some reason, he was reluctant to walk in again. He didn’t dare question why.

Eventually, though, he did hurry to his kitchen, foraging for his flour. He had barely half a bag left…

“I don’t have much left, I hope you’ll have enough.”

He handed you his half-empty bag of flour and forced a smile. He hoped you wouldn’t notice that his hands had turned clammy, that he was struggling for breath a little… or a lot, actually. He didn’t know what to make of his long limbs, of his tall frame, he didn’t know what to tell you…

“Thanks! I’ll bring this back quickly, promise,” you told him, smiling too, although yours was more relaxed and he found it a little too bright, it made it dangerous.

He wondered if he should tell you about the white streak on your cheek, but decided against it. He didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, he was awkward enough for the two of you. God, it had been years since he had been that shy in front of someone.

Before he could find something to say (and he was trying hard to find something interesting to say), you were pressing your lips tightly together.

“Okay, bye!”

It was over already? Andrew was a little stunned by it, he mumbled a ‘goodbye’, brain functioning at full speed to find an excuse to make you stay, but found nothing, reaching to grasp only at air. A second later, you were spinning around, hurrying across the corridor and back to the safety of your door. He watched you disappear, and walked back inside with a sigh.

He sat back in his chair, picked up his guitar again. Damn, he needed to get a grip. He was supposed to hate you, for God’s sake…

“Oh, this got to be a joke…”

Andrew mumbled under his breath, heaving a deep sigh. As if things weren’t complicated enough already in this tiny flat…

The light had just gone out. In this wintery season, even though it was still fairly early, the sky was already wearing its nightly colours, although any traces of moon or stars were hidden behind heavy clouds. Without electricity, the whole room was drenched in darkness…

Andrew checked the battery level of his laptop, resting before him on the small desk where he had been working on a new song. Luckily, none of his music equipment was plugged in, so no damage from a power surge could have happened. He had about 35% battery left…

“Great…”

He saved his files, and used the light of the screen to look for his phone. He checked the battery there too, at the corner of the screen.

12%...

“Fuck…”

He turned the torchlight on anyway, having no other source of light in the room but for his electronical devices. He headed for the cupboard by the door, feet making the wooden floor creak quietly in the dark. He checked the fuses on the hidden electrical panel there, but everything was normal.

It wasn’t coming from his flat. In fact, it wasn’t coming from his building. As he peered into the street, all the streetlights had gone out. It was complete darkness, except for the distant lights of a car, that disappeared after a few seconds.

Andrew heaved another sigh, wondering what to do. It was 6pm, he had not eaten dinner, he had not showered – both vital needs that could not be fulfilled without electricity, unless he wanted to opt for a freezingly cold shower, and he was clearly not in the mood for that – and his phone, aka only source of light, was about to die.

Great… fucking great…

He reckoned that he had a few biscuits tugged somewhere, that would make dinner. He could still quickly wash up with cold water and take a proper shower tomorrow. He only needed a proper torchlight, or at least a candle to see something.

He foraged through the cupboards, drawers and every corner of the flat. No candle, no light, nothing…

His phone was down to 7% battery.

Damn…

There was, however, a solution to his problem. He could go and ask you if you could lend him any source of light…

God, he hated his bloody romantic brain for the line that immediately popped into his head.

She’s a source of light…

“Oh, just shut up, already…” he cursed at himself out loud.

He still opened the door, and walked over to your flat. He only hesitated once he was facing the wooden surface, hand raised in a fist and about to knock. He could feel his throat tightening, and some excited butterflies mingle in his stomach with something anxious and not quite nice. He could feel his palms becoming clammy. He bit down on his cheek.

Did he really want to do that? Knock on your door? See you? You could tell him to fuck off. You could be mean. Or worse, you could give him an earnest smile, what would he do with himself if you did?

But Andrew shook himself and finally knocked. He wasn’t a bloody teenager to be this intimidated by someone. He was an accomplished musician, in his thirties, who owned a home, bees and an awful lot of guitars. He had talked to many people who were way more intimidating than you, including the fucking president! He had sung in front of thousands of people! Tens of thousands! He could totally ask you for a torchlight and be cool about it.

His breath staggered when your face appeared, opening the door and looking up at him with these gorgeous eyes of yours, and his heart skipped several beats, and his brain simply ceased to function altogether…

Bloody hell…

“Oh, hi!” you spoke in an annoyed voice, but he somehow knew the feeling wasn’t aimed at him. “I was about to go over to your place, Andrew. There’s no power in my flat.”

“None in mine either. And nothing in the street. It seems the whole area is in the dark.”

You heaved a frustrated sigh, a long exhale through your nose, and Andrew couldn’t help but find you adorable like this, all frustration and annoyance. He wanted to kiss that frown of yours away…

But he shook himself instead.

She’s annoying as fuck. And you’ve interviewed your fucking president, you can ask your neighbour for a candle…

“I’m sorry to bother you,” he said, his voice more hesitant than usual, but steady all the same. “But there’s nothing we can do to get the lights back on, and there’s no candle or torchlight in the flat. And my phone is about to die. Do you have anything you could lend me for the night?”

But you shook your head.

“Sorry, got only one candle, and I’m using it. My phone is about to die too.”

“Oh… okay, nevermind then. Thanks anyway.”

“Oh wait! Your flour!”

You rushed inside, reappeared seconds later with the bag you had borrowed that morning.

“Thanks,” Andrew gave you a smile, one that he tried to make brighter than the ones he usually offered you. “Hope the cooking went well.”

“Yep! I now have lots of cookies! Luckily, they were finished before the power went out. The oven runs on electricity.”

“Yeah, mine too. Everything in the flat does, actually,” he answered with a wince.

“You’ve got some food for tonight?”

“Some snacks, yeah. It will simply not be a night for my infamous pastas.”

Andrew didn’t know how to react when you actually chuckled at his joke, a genuine smile now adorning your lips. It was all butterflies and leaping heart and air leaving his lungs.

Fuck… this was so much more intimidating than talking to the president…

“I’ve got some stuff ready, if you want. Nothing fancy, just a salad.”

You opened your door wider, a silent invitation, one he was too surprised by to seize right away, too busy raising an eyebrow.

“Oh… erhmmm… thanks… you don’t have to bother, though…”

“I’m not! I prepare most of my meals in advance, during the weekend. I have enough for you, if you want.”

“Erhmmm… it won’t bother you?”

“No, I…”

But you were interrupted by sudden darkness as Andrew’s phone decided to give up on life…

“Fuck! Bloody hell…” he cursed under his breath, tapping on the screen, but to no avail.

“Wait, the candle…”

You walked back into your flat, a dim light coming from the other end of the hall. He could only guess your form in the dark, but he noticed that you were stumbling as you cursed.

“Bloody… Salem! No! Andrew, close the door! The cat!”

Andrew didn’t think. He didn’t fully realize what he was doing as he stepped inside your flat and closed the door in a hurry. A soft brush against his ankle told him that your cat had not managed to escape.

“Did he run off?” you asked, reappearing with the candle in your hand, your features bathed in the warm light; something so ethereal, Andrew thought he was dreaming all of this.

But then he felt claws digging into his jeans in an attempt to climb up his leg, and he was reminded that he was not dreaming, indeed.

“No, he’s decided to use me as his personal tree instead,” he joked, bending to gently push the animal away, who mewed in discontent.

You laughed at that, sound clear and blinding, making him a little dizzy.

“For his defence, that’s an easy mistake to make.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Very funny…”

Still, he couldn’t refrain an amused smile, and yours brightened too.

“So, now that you’re in… want some of my brilliant chicken salad?”

You had no idea what had gone through your brain when you invited Andrew to come in and share a meal with you.

You were supposed to hate the guy. He was supposed to be the annoying musician next door who kept on yelling into some microphone when you tried to sleep.

It was difficult to remind yourself of that though, when the annoying musician turned out to be so soft-spoken and sweet. Sweet. Yeah, that was the most fitting word to describe how your evening was going with him so far. He seemed nervous as well, an unexpected reaction to your modest flat and perfectly ordinary self. The guy had sung in front of audiences of thousands and probably met an awful lot of people who were everything but ordinary… and yet he was shifting his weight now from one foot to the other, as if he didn’t know what to make of his long limbs. You found that adorable…

The fact that he looked stunning in the warm light of the candle, with his hazel eyes looking almost black in the dimly lit room, his hair held in a messy bun, the photons caught in his beard and long eyelashes… yeah, that was not helping at all, either.

You cleared your throat while handing him a glass of water, which he quietly thanked you for. There was nothing special about your meal, but he complimented you anyway. He stole a couple extra cookies for dessert, and you smiled at the sight.

“Sweet tooth?” you asked, nodding towards the crumbs in his plate, the last remnants of the fourth cookie he had been devouring.

He looked sheepishly at you.

“Kind of… sorry…”

“Don’t apologise! I’m glad you like them.”

“Well, you did make them with my flour, so I guess I’ve partly paid for them,” he joked, successfully making you laugh.

He was funny, which didn’t help you reminding yourself that you ought to despise him either.

If you had both struggled a little to start a proper conversation at the beginning, you were more relaxed now, and Andrew seemed to be feeling the same. You had barely talked to each other before, your interactions limited to polite chit-chat typical of neighbourhood, and you being annoyed at him, and him being annoyed at you.

It turned out that he was nice, that he was kind, that he was funny and smart and that he had an awful lot of anecdotes to tell. Time flew by, the night deepening faster than expected, and you remained sitting around your dinner table even after your plates were empty, talking about your lives and discovering that you had quite a lot in common, after all.

Alright, he wasn’t as insufferable as you had first thought, and for sure your heart leapt every time he smiled, and you couldn’t deny that he was gorgeous…

… still, you were supposed to hate him.

He helped you wash the dishes, joking and making you laugh, and hell, it was hard to stop your heart from beating too fast.

Out of annoyance, of course! You were annoyed… that was why your stomach made some crazy flip-flops when he bent closer to you to secure a plate in the cupboard above your head. It wasn’t at all because his shoulder was touching yours, because he stood so close you could smell his earthy perfume and it made you dizzy…

Nope! None of that… of course…

And when he looked down at you, remaining just as close, and you caught him staring, caught the bopping of his Adam’s apple and the tensing of the muscle in his jaw, the sudden urge you felt to reach up for his collar and pull him down until you could kiss his lips was a reflection of your frustration against him, nothing more.

Nothing more…

His eyes left yours, blinked a couple of times and landed on your lips, and you were certain that the sound of his breathing had disappeared. And you both remained there, standing still, staring at the other and you wondered if he was thinking the same thought as you did, having the same surprising longing to close the space between your bodies. You weren’t sure why you had invited him when you thought you disliked him. But then did you really dislike him? Or did you simply smell danger in his bright smile, saw risks in his pretty eyes, and the fear of falling in his deep voice? Yeah… yeah, perhaps there was a little bit of that, too… You tilted your head up, and he lowered his head, just a little bit, the ghost of a movement, you could almost have dreamt it…

But then he moved away, in a jolt, blinking and clearing his throat as if catching himself doing something mad and wrong and stopping before he actually performed the sin. You disliked him once again, then, hating that he elicited disappointment…

You finished washing the dishes in silence, and you hated the feeling of discomfort that suddenly replaced the warmth he had brought before. He was back at shuffling around, clearly uncomfortable. And yet, when he looked at you again and caught your gaze with his, his expression softened.

“Can I confess something?” he asked out of the blue, but you nodded in encouragement despite your surprise.

He sounded serious all of a sudden, and he took a moment to look for the right words. His eyes seemed to search for something in yours, and you couldn’t look away while he looked so intensely at you.

“I… I’m sorry we kind of… hit it off in a bad way. Cause I… you’re not as bad as I thought you were,” he added with a tinge of humour and lopsided smile, which made you smile too.

“Yeah… you’re not as insufferable as I thought you were either,” you admitted despite yourself. And yet, as soon as the confession passed your lips, you couldn’t deny that you truly meant it.

He grinned, the sight making your heart skip a few beats.

“Is there a way that I can repay you for your amazing chicken salad?” he asked, his tone more playful again, eliciting warmth across your frame.

You couldn’t refrain a laugh.

“I mean, it was an amazing salad,” you leaned into his joking tone.

“Spectacular. It deserves some kind of retribution, somehow…”

“Well, you’re a musician aren’t you? I’m sure you can find something.”

He laughed at that, clearly taken aback by your answer, but if he blushed and rubbed his neck in a mark of sudden shyness, he didn’t back down.

“You’re aiming straight for the serious topics,” he teased.

“For the free concert tickets, if we’re being fully honest…” you joked, making both of you laugh.

“Oh, I see! That’s where the sudden kindness comes from! You want to exchange a chicken salad for a show!”

“Absolutely! Do you have any idea how much time and energy I’ve put in that salad?!”

“A tremendous amount, no doubt! Well… sorry to disappoint, but I’m not on tour at the moment.”

“Good, cause I was aiming for that other artist you might know.”

He broke into a loud laughter, one that filled your apartment and your frame alike with joy.

“What a well-thought plan! I’m afraid you might make me more important than I truly am, though.”

“If I give you an extra-cookie, I’m sure you’ll find a way to get me the show I want.”

“And here you go, using my weaknesses already, you clever lass!”

“A genius, that’s what I am!”

You laughed again, before you would grow more serious again.

“Seriously though, don’t mention it. It was nice to have dinner with you.”

His smile grew more tender, his gaze softened.

“Yeah… it was nice for me too. And perhaps you… perhaps we could do that again? Next time I could be doing the cooking.”

“And with actual lights on, that could be good too,” you joked, making him chuckle as he nodded.

“And well… I’ll have my guitar with me, perhaps I can repay you with some music then.”

“Wow… are you offering a free concert, or a form of serenading?”

You were joking, but you noticed the way his cheeks reddened, and he averted his eyes for a few seconds, before capturing your stare with his once more.

“Rather the second option, I reckon.”

You tried very hard to hide your reaction: the way your heart skipped a few beats and then became absolutely erratic, so much so that you wondered if it could beat hard enough to break your ribs and escape your chest altogether; the butterflies that flew across your stomach; the breath that got caught in your throat…

Damn, you hadn’t felt like that in years…

He averted his eyes once more to speak again.

“Ermmm… unless you wouldn’t like that, of course.”

“I… Actually, I think I would like that. Quite a lot.”

He looked at you then, his smile turning into a grin. And he blinked, eyes falling to your lips a second time this evening…

You reached for your kitchen counter, hesitating in taking the first step and leaning into your urge to pull him down to kiss him. How crazy was that thought? That you could be kissing Hozier, of all people; that you wanted to kiss the neighbour you had categorized as annoying for weeks; that you felt exhilarated like a teenager at the mere thought of touching his cheek…

He seemed to be hesitating too, and you heard him take a sharp intake of breath, blink again, and then he slowly leant down…

… and then it was complete darkness in the room, as the candle died out.

You jumped in surprise, taking a step back involuntarily and letting out a squeal as you felt your heel brushing your cat’s tail. Salem hissed, although you stopped your step before you could hurt him. You started to lose your balance though, when a pair of hands reached blindly in the dark for you, grabbing both of your upper arms and pulling you forward. You collided with something warm, hard and steady, and the earthy scent that enveloped your senses and made your head spin told you that you were pressed against Andrew’s chest.

“You’re alright?” he asked, worry audible in his tone.

“Yeah, just… almost stepped on my cat.”

“Is he alright?”

“Yeah, I almost stepped on him.”

He let out a low hum, almost a rumble, the vibrations echoing through your cheek and you had to close your eyes at the reassuring feeling. You reached up to hold him without thinking; there was something so safe and soft about his embrace…

His left hand moved from your arm to your back, a soothing caress as he pressed you closer. Meanwhile, his other hand was slowly moving up your arm, torturingly slow, making its way from your arm to your shoulder, and then it was time for a brush of long fingers across your neck that made your whole body tremble, and he kept on going until you moved your face so he could cup your cheek in his palm, his thumb brushing delicate circles into your cheekbone. You didn’t dare to move, afraid he would leave your arms, afraid you wouldn’t feel the warmth of his body sipping into your clothes anymore. But then, you felt his warm breath fan over your forehead, near your hairline, and you looked up to see nothing but shadows, your hair brushed against the tip of his nose.

But then you were blinded, as the power was back on, the lights now turned on again.

You both jolted backwards, blinking hard against the outburst of light, and you heard him cursing under his breath.

And just like that he was gone, and you could have cried from the cold that replaced his body in your arms.

It took both of you a moment to regain your composure, to realize what was happening, where you were, what had almost happened.

Almost…

When you caught his gaze again, you couldn’t make out what his hazel eyes were saying, pupils still dilated after spending so long in a dimly lit room and then in complete darkness.

You struggled to swallow, unsure what to do next. Were you supposed to act like you had not been close to kissing a second ago? Were you supposed to joke around again? Were you supposed to talk about it? Were you supposed to ask him on a date?

You read the same hesitations in Andrew’s eyes, although something soon shifted in his gaze. Something determined appeared, and a little scared, but lovely all the same. And before you could react, he had taken a step forward to close back the space between your bodies, had reached up to hold your face in both his hands, and was crushing his lips to yours.

Your brain ceased to function altogether, you were too stunned to realize fully what was happening. But then your braincells caught on, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to bring his even closer as you kissed him, sighing in his mouth as he parted his lips to taste you.

For how long did you remain like this, standing in your kitchen, untangled and kissing? Hard to tell, impossible even. But when you broke apart, both of you out of breath, you rested your forehead against his shoulder, and he held you close, as if he were afraid you could leave.

“What the fuck was that?” you asked, your voice full of shock.

He chuckled at your reaction.

“You know, when a man and a woman really like each other, sometimes…”

“Don’t,” you warned him, but couldn’t refrain a smile all the same.

“Sorry, bad timing.”

You looked up at him, and by the look he gave you, you guessed that you weren’t very good at hiding your sudden nervousness.

“I’m not the ‘one-night stand’ type,” you warned him.

Andrew slowly nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Okay.”

“Besides, I’m supposed to hate you so…”

“Hate me?”

“You’re supposed to be the hot but very annoying neighbour who I blame for all of my life’s problems.”

He laughed at that, a smirk forming on his lips.

“You think I’m hot?”

It was your time to laugh.

“You’re not too bad,” you answered, but the look you gave him made him blush.

“Well, you’re not too bad either. Quite the opposite, actually.”

“I’m sure you can do better than that.”

A spark of mischief appeared in his eyes.

“If you want, I can get going with the serenading.”

You laughed again, shaking your head, but playing along all the same.

“Tempting. I won’t give myself away for less than that.”

“Dully noted. I’ll make efforts to woo you properly, I promise.”

You shied away a little, but he held you a little more tightly against him.

“What about a proper date though?” he asked, all traces of humour now gone from his voice. “Tomorrow night?”

You smiled up at him, nodding your head, before burying your face in his shoulder again, and he held you tightly against him in response.

Yeah, he truly was insufferable, without a doubt…

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x y/n #hozier x you #hozier fanfiction #hozier fanfic #hozier oneshot #hozier fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #writing #oneshot

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 6 months

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A flock of elephants

Written for the November warm-up round of the @steddieholidaydrabbles

Prompt: Bakery AU

Rated: T

CW: some sexual tension and innuendo

Tags: Baker Steve, Rockstar Eddie

Notes: Can be read as a continuation of this microfic

“You don't understand how huge a deal this is, Steve,” Dustin says. He’s wiggling in the passenger seat, trying to take in every bit of their surroundings as they pull up to the concert hall.

Steve huffs and squints at the signs. There's security and fans and staff everywhere and he can feel a headache coming up.

"A guy asked me to bake a cake, so what? It's literally what I do for a living, nothing-"

"A guy asked you to-" Dustin sputters. "Excuse me, what did you say? Eddie Munson commissioned you to bake a replica of his world famous Warlock, do you have any- Do you even know who Eddie Munson is?"

"Of course I know," Steve grouses. "I don't live under a rock."

"Oh yeah?" Dustin levels him with an unimpressed look. "Name one of his songs."

"Please," Steve rolls his eyes. "You're blasting that shit on repeat, it's practically seared into my brain. Especially the one about the elephants."

Dustin stares at him. Steve resists the urge to pinch his nose.

"You know the one! What was it? Flock of Elephants?"

Dustin crumples into the car seat and slaps both palms to his forehead. "It's A Court of Sycophants, Steve! Oh my God!"

"Synchro-what?" Steve ignores the way his neck prickles and takes a sharp right. "You just made that up. Now help me look for the delivery entrance or we won't have ourselves a deal at all."

Once they find the entrance, it turns out he forgot the ID badge that the label sent, because of fucking course he did. He spends about half an hour trying to convince the grumpy security guard to let them in while Dustin has a complete meltdown. Just as he's ready to give up, they're rescued by the appearance of a tiny blonde in a pink cardigan who cheerfully introduces herself as Eddie’s manager.

"Sorry about Hop," she says for what must be the fourth time, while Steve sets up the guitar-shaped cake at the center of the buffet and Dustin inspects the backstage lounge with awestruck eyes. "He takes his job very seriously."

"Yeah, I noticed," Steve mutters. She seems nice enough, but he really doesn’t wanna engage in smalltalk right now. The bustle of the stage hands and the hot air of the venue are making him squeamish. All he wants to do is get this over with and go home.

Unfortunately fate must hate him, because that is the exact moment that a familiar voice says, "Hey, Chris. No matter what Hop tells you, I didn't order hookers to the venue. I dunno where he got the-"

Dustin starts squealing.

"Oh my God, you're Eddie Munson!"

Eddie squints at him like a confused cat.

"Last time I checked, yeah. And you are?"

"Dustin," says Dustin, like that explains everything. "I'm with Steve."

Eddie’s eyes flit over and his face breaks into a delighted, dimpled smile.

"Baker boy, hi!"

Steve's mouth goes dry.

He doesn’t know why, but all of the easy confidence of their last meeting is suddenly gone.

Maybe it's because they were in the bakery, on his own turf, and now they're on Eddie’s, where the lights and the noise and the hum of the crowd in the auditorium are grating on his nerves.

Maybe it's because last time, Eddie looked like just some guy in his ripped jeans and ratty hoody, unwashed hair piled in a chaotic bun, and now …

… now he's in a pair of leather pants that are so tight they may as well be spray-painted on and what looks like a fucking harness, hair cascading around his face and shoulders in a halo of messy curls and is that eyeliner?

"Woah," Eddie breathes, eyes growing large, and yup, eyeliner. Definitely eyeliner, Jesus fucking Christ. With two long strides of those impossibly long legs, he's beside Steve and ogling the cake with an awestruck face. "This is fucking incredible, dude, it looks just like the real thing. You did all that from the photos?"

By some miracle, Steve manages to channel the incoming blush into a sly pop of his hips and a smug eyebrow quirk.

"Told you I was the best."

Eddie is looking at him like he didn't bake a cake but hung the moon, which … in combination with the eyeliner and the leather and the harness of it all? Steve squirms in his jeans.

"Okay, erm … if that's all, I'll send over the bill by-"

"Wait, what? You're not staying for the show?" Eddie swivels to Chrissy, all righteous indignation. "Why are they not staying for the show?"

Chrissy shrugs, at the same time that Steve says, "That's really not necessa-"

"We'd love to stay!"

Dustin shoves himself between them, elbowing him in the kidneys. While Steve is still coughing, Eddie turns to Chrissy.

"Show the young man to the backstage area, Chris?"

Dustin looks like he's about to die of happiness, so Steve resigns himself to his fate.

"Will you play the one about the psychopaths?" he asks as they trail after him. "It's his favorite."

"Psycho-" Eddie’s brow wrinkles.

"Sycophants, Steve!" Dustin hollers from ahead. "Jesus!"

"Anyways," Steve says over Eddie’s rumbling laughter. "You really didn't have to-"

"I know I didn't." Eddie accepts his guitar - the real one - from a stage hand and slings it over his shoulder. "But I saw what you're best at, so I figured I'd return the favor."

"Careful there," Steve huffs. "All you've done is ogle my cake. You may wanna try it first."

"Oh, I'm planning to …" Eddie's smile is sharp as he leans in, close to his ear. "Preferably with less people around, though."

And then he's gone, stepping out on the stage, making his guitar wail.

Steve can't quite tell if the roar in his ears is the crowd or the sound of his own blood.

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddie holiday drabbles #hype's holiday drabbles

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exhaslo · 6 months

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Hiii i was wondering if you could do a miguel x cinnamon bun reader who’s a chubby baker and catches Miguel’s eye sometime when he was out as spiderman and decides to wife her up. And now that they’re together since she’s always baking at home miguel comes home to the smell of cinnamon buns and her as well who’s filled with flour on her face. You can make it smutty if you want, i was just thinking that this scenario was cute 😭😩

have a good dayyy

Crying bc I wrote like half of this before Tumblr froze and deleted everything so I gotta rewrite it again.

Anyway, this is a cute idea. It would be super adorable if Miguel didn't like sweets either...so...without further ado...Time to write again

Warning: None, just fluff, light mentions of sex

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

You owned a small bakery in the middle of Nueva York. It was no surprise that the smell of your bakery would attract anyone walking down the block. The aroma of your desserts would attract even the most grumpiest of people.

You were working in the kitchen, sweating as you tried to perfect your latest batch of cupcakes. You took a look around at your workers, smiling as they had fun while making your desserts. You loved your job.

"Hm, I'll take whatever you recommend. I don't really like sweets." A voice from outside said.

Your ears perked up as you heard such a phase. Your curiosity got the best of you as you poked your head out of the kitchen. You saw two men at the counter with your cashier. One was giddy with joy, ordering a bunch of sweets while the other had a stern look at his face.

Slowly, you made your way behind your cashier, avoiding the tall man's gaze. He was handsome, but also somewhat scary. Pulling one of your not so sweet desserts, you carefully placed it in a cute box and slid it towards him on the counter.

"T-This is on the house. I...I hope you like it." You whispered, glancing up at him.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't think anyone but this idiot heard me." The man said while pointing at his companion.

"Migueeeel!"

"Thank you," Miguel said with a fanged smile.

You felt your cheeks flush as you rubbed your eyes. You had to be exhausted from working because you swore you saw fangs. Returning your gaze to the handsome man, you smiled as he took a bite. His eyes widen, licking his lips,

"It's good,"

Miguel was surprised by the delightful treat you gave him. He glanced towards you, caught off guard by the cute smile you gave him. He watched as you hurried into the kitchen, shaking with excitement. Unable to stop staring, Miguel looked back down at the dessert.

"Shall I get more of those for you~" Gabriel, Miguel's brother, said with a silly grin. Miguel nudged him away,

"No. I can get these myself."

----------

Miguel was swinging around the city, patrolling for any crime. He stopped, catching whiff of something ridiculously sweet. Disgruntled, he stoop and searched for the source of the smell. His shoulders sunk, spotting your bakery.

Perhaps you were working on a new recipe? Miguel made it a habit to stop by once a week. He enjoyed your company. You were different. Miguel was willing to try anything you gave him as long as it meant seeing your smile.

Sitting against the roof of the building, Miguel just sat there and watched you. You were hard working, helping every customer and your employees. He knew the struggle of managing a business. Hell, Miguel was technally in charge of two companies, if the Spider Society counted as one.

"Haha! She probably eats all her sweets! Look at her!" A rude teenager yelled as his obnoxious friends laughed alongside him.

"P-Please leave!" You begged.

Miguel stepped in once he saw tears form. He jumped onto the sidewalk and quietly walked behind you. His presence scaring the teenagers away. You whimpered, rubbing your eyes and sniffing before turning around and yelping.

"It's okay. I just scared them away," Miguel whispered, not wanting to spook you.

"Thank you," You whispered, still shaking. Miguel wanted to comfort you, but he knew this wasn't the right time or place,

"Don't let those kids get to you."

"I-I'm used to it...A chubby girl who owns a bakery. I hear it a lot." You whispered. Miguel grinded his teeth together,

"You're beautiful."

"Haha, thanks. That cheered me up," You said with that sweet smile of yours, "Here, let me give you a treat as thanks."

You hummed happily as you held Spiderman's hand, leading him into your bakery. Your customers were surprised, but went about their business. You looked behind the counter and took out one of your newest desserts, placing it in a cute box.

"I just made this, I hope you like it."

You watched as Spiderman's mask slowly disappeared revealing his lower half of his face. Your eyes widen as you saw fangs when he took a bite. Your smile widen as you thought of your regular Miguel, whom you liked.

"It's good." He said. You just giggled,

"Thank you."

--------

Miguel was determined to wife you up. He had started to stop by your bakery three times a week, chatting and getting to know you on a deeper level. Once he found out that you were single, he did not hesitate to ask you out.

Miguel wanted you. He was determined to protect you and keep his sweet little baker by his side. You were so sweet and cute that Miguel was having a hard time restraining himself. He wanted to swing you in his arms and make you his.

By your fifth date, Miguel kissed you. He held you close to him, enjoying your flushed cheeks and shy expression. He was your first for everything and Miguel was going to savior everything about that. He was going to enjoy giving you everything.

By your twelfth date, you admitted to him that you knew he was Spiderman. Miguel was slightly embarrassed, but felt a weight off his chest since he didn't have to hide it from you anymore. With his secret known to you, Miguel was able to give you even more affection due to his powers.

The first time you guys had sex, Miguel went overboard. He joked about you being his dessert for the night and ended up filling you like one of your cupcakes. He had to apologize to you, but you weren't complaining. It was the best night of your life.

Finally, after a few months, Miguel offered to have you move in with him. You were hesitate, but after some reassuring, you agreed. You were currently in your shared house, making a new recipe while waiting for Miguel to return from work.

"Mhm~ I wonder if my customers will like this~" You cooed, trying the cookies.

"Of course they will. You're the one making them," Miguel hummed as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Miguel~ You're home!" You chirped. Miguel kissed your neck, his hands groping your tummy,

"Missed you, baby. Couldn't stop thinking about you all day,"

"M-Miguel," You glanced away, feeling flustered, "D-Do you want to try my cookies?"

"Of course, but I'll be enjoying my cookies later," He whispered, groping your breasts.

"Miguel~"

Miguel chuckled lowly, capturing your lips in a kiss before willingly tried the cookie. He scrunched his face up, still not liking sweets, but told you that they were amazing.

You chuckled towards him, letting him know that you'll make some dinner. Miguel wanted to complain, saying something about feasting on you, but you managed to convince him to shower. You couldn't help but smile, happy that you found someone who loved you just the way you are.

"Oh, (Y/N), I've been meaning to ask," Miguel started as he came out of the shower, "Did you give Spider Chef a recipe for a Spiderman burger that looks like me?"

"..."

Miguel sighed heavily, "It's a best seller." He muttered,

"Yai~ I knew it~" You cheered happily.

Miguel resisted a chuckle as he watched you do your cute little cheer. You were defiantly going to make it up later. Miguel did think it was time for you to have little helpers after all.

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

Hehe, hope you enjoyed~

Part 2 (smut)

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse

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pacifymebby · 6 months

Note

What would each peaky boy be like with a wife who owns a bakery, one who pops round to meetings with fresh cakes and treats and stuff

This is a really cute request and really feeds my dream of having a bakery one day

Tommy

🌿 your bakery is quite small and easy to miss but once Tommy knows it's there tucked down a side street, pretty much just a hatch in the wall, he never goes a day without visiting

🌿 Always, no matter how busy he is, will take the time to stop by even if only for a second or two to say hello and pick up something to eat. You think he must really love your baking and he does think your breads the best he's ever had however, that's not the reason he stops by every day.

🌿 You'd joke about how he's going to eat you out of heart and home if he carries on like this and he'd very simply say, "Marry me love, then I won't have to will I..." Of course he's only teasing but the blush it paints on your cheeks is priceless and well, he does often wonder what it would be like to marry you.. no harm in putting the idea in your head.

🌿 He says the same thing every time you tease him for stopping by, which you do at least three times a week. It isn't that you're ungrateful for the business it's that you don't understand how a man as busy as Tommy Shelby has time to visit your little bakery every day and you don't understand why he'd want to.

🌿 this little routine, you teasing him, him making that joke, you blushing and going shy, carries on for months and months, it drags on so long that all your friends are certain he's not really joking, that perhaps Birmingham's most infamous has taken a liking to more than just your bread.

🌿 One day when he says it you smile, "if you keep saying that Mr Shelby one day I might just take you seriously..." And he pauses, mouth caught in a half smile, hands in his pockets as causal as you like he looks you up and down to work out whether you're teasing him. "And what would you say if you did?"

🌿 When you're married he'd help you set up a bigger bakery, hires you staff to help you run it, but you always keep your little shop too because that hatch in the wall holds a special place in both your hearts.

🌿 Whenever you think up a new recipe or you're experimenting with new flavours Tommy makes sure to be interested in what you're doing, listening to you when you tell him about your troubles "Thing is I don't know if it's salt I need, to bring out the sweetness, or if I'm just not using enough sugar and then there's the trouble with the Cherry jam it's too... Too..." "Jammy?" He'd tease, "wait no, too cherry flavoured eh, that it love?"

🌿 will be the first to try anything new recipe you've baked and will always give you an honest answer, unless somethings truly awful, then he won't tell you quite how bad it is because he doesn't want to break your heart.

🌿 He will try anything and everything you put in front of him but he has to admit his favourites are the more savoury treats you bake, anything with cheese is an instant hit with Tommy and sometimes, when he's had one of those weeks where he's stressed out, hardly eating at all, living off coffee whiskey and cigarettes, one of your cheese buns is the only thing that can tempt him to take his spectacles off for a moment, come out of his head and back down to earth, back to you.

🌿 Whenever there's a family meeting you always want to use it to get opinions on your baking so any new recipes are prepared specially for the family and you get in a real huff if anyone refuses to try your food... And Tommy always warns them in advance, threatening his brothers to "be fuckin nice yeah, try the cakes, be fuckin nice eh?"

🌿 Sometimes he brings Charlie into the bakery to see you and when you can tell that Tommy's particularly stressed you offer to take care of the young boy. He enjoys baking with you, making a mess with all the flour and sugar. He's your number one taste tester and every time he's in you get him to pick his favourite so that you can advertise whichever items he recommends as "recommended by little Charlie Shelby"

🌿 It sort of turns you into a bit of s matriarch within the family. Whenever anyone's having a party, whenever there's a birthday to prepare for, you're always kept busy baking cakes and sweet treats for the whole family. And when Charlie tells his cousins about the fun he has at the bakery they all want a turn decorating cakes and iced buns with you...

🌿 Tommy definitely falls in love with you a little more every time he drops into your little bakery in the late afternoon to pick his son up, to come face to face with your flour dusted features and your bright smile, watching you suck a little icing from your fingertip to test the sweetness.

🌿 He will almost always catch your hip in his hand, look down at you with longing in his eyes and murmur something sweet like "give us a try of that eh love..." sucking the icing straight from your pinky.

Alfie

🐻 Alfie has been coming to your bakery for a very long time, he remembers when your mother used to run things, remembers her Challah recipe by heart.

🐻 He would often turn up early in the morning before you were open, let himself in anyway and lean, white sleeves pushed up to the elbows against the counter waiting for you to turn up. "Thought you might fancy a little company this mornin miss y/l/n..." The first time he shows you're shocked and you can't hide it. You know he's infamous, a violent criminal who promises nothing but trouble... but you also know he's the baker of Camden town and that your mother was always quite fond of him...

🐻 So you can't turn him down. Not that anyone in their right mind would turn Alfie Solomons down...

🐻 You spend lots of time baking together in that kitchen, it's Alfie's favourite place to be, holed up cosy amid the yeasty smell of baking bread and the sweet scent of fresh pastries. He enjoys your company, enjoys getting close to you, using excuses such as "y'see ziskeit your problem yeahs, that you ain't leanin into it enough, you've gotta kneed with your whole body right, like this..." standing behind you, arms around your waist, kneeding the dough for you with you trapped between him and the counter watching him work.

🐻 You also have lots of little tiffs in the kitchen, him winding you up by putting things away in the wrong places or reorganising cupboards and shelves so that you don't know where any of your belongings are. Him getting tetchy with you when you insist you know a better recipe for something than he does.

🐻 However despite your tiffs Alfie never lets you talk yourself down... Whenever you have a new idea he's always quick to tell you you're a genius. Always calling you the cleverest girl in Camden town, always dramatically complimenting you. Even if something goes wrong, even if a cake isn't perfect or the bread you've baked doesn't quite rise properly he will hush any of your complaints with one finger to your lips, that contemplative frown on his brow

🐻 "Now just you mind what you're about to say yeah my little ziskeit, just you be very careful what words come out that pretty little mouth of yours next yeah because I've got somethin to say right... I've got something to say... This here yeah, it's bread right but... It don't feel right just calling it bread yeah, cause this here ain't any old bread, this bread right it's a fuckin work of art my little ziskeit, this bread right, it's a masterpiece, one of them modern wonders of the fuckin world right... So just you think very carefully yeah about what you're about to say..."

🐻 "Cause I won't put up with no bread slander today right, I've made up my mind and I just won't tolerate it..."

🐻 You teaching him how to delicately decorate cakes and pastries with ornate little designs. Him getting frustrated because his hands are too big and his fingers are a little too clumsy to master the finer details. You hugging him, kissing his cheek when you reassure him that his gingerbread men aren't "fackin elephant man ugly"

🐻 Your flower stained blush mirroring his flower stained blush when you both realise what you've just done.

🐻 When he's busy working all he wants is a visit from you and he always hopes you'll come down with something from the bakery. He literally sits there in his office pining for you and your "delights" as he calls them, and sometimes when you're late or you can't visit he sits there getting more and more grumpy, poor Ollie has to try and lighten the mood but just gets grumbled at.

🐻 And when you do come to visit Alfie at work he gets jealous when you bring stuff for the workers too and he chides you for "spoiling" them. He only does this because he loves the cheeky smile you give him as you sit down in his lap and offer him something sweet to try, "Don't worry Alfie I didn't forget about you..."

🐻 When he flees to Margate you open a bakery together on the seafront, he tends to hide away in the kitchen getting jealous when local boys come in and flirt with you, occasionally when he's feeling particularly protective he'll come out to spook them.

🐻 but for the most part that little bakery on the sea front is your own little slice of heaven, back in London he'd fed you the idea whenever you were getting worried about him and his business. Whenever you started to fear he was in too deep, making too much trouble for himself.

🐻 And now he's finally made good on that promise to you. It's just you, him and Cyril living a peaceful life together in Margate. The smell of freshly baked bread in the mornings, spending evenings together preparing the dough for the next day's batches.

🐻 You've definitely thrown a handful of flower at him multiple times, definitely "pied" him at least once for being a grumpy old martyr.

🐻 He's definitely given you that look, beckoned you over and instructed you to "clean up your mess now ziskeit, reckon you've had your fun with the fuckin creme patissiere..."

🐻 Scoops up said creme patissiere with his two fingers and feeds it to you, won't smile until your lips are closed round his fingers, your eyes locked with his.

Arthur

🍂 Sorry Arthur bby but...

🍂 I feel like he's a really messy eater, like he chews really gross and definitely talks with his mouth full... Crumbs everywhere, always spilling cream or jam down his shirt...

🍂 Which means you have to instruct him on how to eat your cakes and usually clean him up afterwards too. You have to break a piece of cake off for him and place some in his mouth giving him instructions "right close and chew..."

🍂 But no sooner has he closed his mouth and begun to chew is he forgetting himself again, opening his mouth to tell you how fucking lovely it is and you'd have to hush him up.

🍂 "Fuck me darlin this is fuckin delicious, fuckin heavenly..." he starts getting crumbs everywhere, you're watching exasperated but endeared all the same as he gets crumbs all over the floor and himself. You know there's nothing you can do about this.

🍂 You can't help laugh at him, he's so daft sometimes, doesn't seem to have any idea how funny he looks... But you get a cloth and wipe the cream from his mustache, giggling at him, him chuckling along too when he realises what he's done.

🍂 "Sorry love I can't help it, they taste so good I forget me manners..." "Excuses, excuses.." you tut only teasing him. He actually blushes.

🍂 Arthur loves your baking so much that whenever there's a family meeting he all but insists you bring sweet treats along for everyone.

🍂 "Please darlin I'm beggin you, how are we gonna survive Tommy's fuckin speeches without somethin to eat... He'll have us in there all night with nothin to eat... We'll starve if you don't bring us somethin sweet to eat..." he's so dramatic but you always comply, just rolling your eyes and teasing him. "God Arthur anyone would think you haven't just eaten five of these..." You grin packing tins full of pastries to take with you...

🍂 But he can't help it, he loves your baking and he loves you, thinks the sun shines out of you and your gifted hands so he wants to show off his talented girl and her delicious creations... Upon arriving he will very loudly announce that everyone needs to "fuckin shut up and listen to my Y/N cause she's brought everyone some new cakes to try and they're fuckin delicious..."

🍂 He'll make everyone try one, even Tommy and he'll glare at his brother until he says something nice about your baking.

🍂 "We're fuckin blessed right, to have such a fuckin talented baker in the family..."

🍂 You try to teach him to bake but honestly, he's clumsy, he makes a mess, he can't concentrate on the recipe because he's standing close to you and instead of having his hands in the mixing bowl he just keeps trying to grab you and hug you, can't keep his hands or his lips off you for long enough to get through even the most simple of cookie recipes.

🍂 Honestly if ever you've got something important to bake, a wedding or birthday cake, new stock for the shop you have to lock him out of the kitchen until you're done because he's too much of a distraction.

🍂 You have the fear whenever you're working on something delicate, you have to put signs on the doors reminding Arthur not to slam the doors when he comes home. When you hear him coming you brace yourself, hovering round your delicate creation, wincing when he forgets about not slamming the door.

🍂 "Arthur please my love!" "I know I know I'm sorry sweetheart I'll be careful" he says hands in the air all surrender and sweet, making an effort to tip toe and be careful, forgetting three seconds later much to your despair.

John

🌼 John gives me low-key earth sign vibes, not sun sign earth sign vibes but something else, like a moon perhaps? Anyway my point with that is that John definitely has a love of home comforts, mundane, little luxuries... He likes being spoiled with sweet treats. Likes coming home to find you baking with the little ones.

🌼 I mean he really loves it... There's nothing better than finishing a long day at the betting shop surrounded by drunk, rowdy men, to stop by the bakery on his way home only to find one of his children behind the counter, standing on a stool to help you serve customers. He can hear his other kids giggling in the kitchen and he practically jumps over the counter in excitement to see them and all the mischief they're getting up to whilst your backs turned.

🌼 Him asking for one of your finest cakes, and then when Katy holds her hand out to take his money he grins and says "Well y'see kitty my little love, I spent my last penny on flowers for your mammy so Daddy was hoping he could pay with a kiss eh?"

🌼 When she agrees she's very cheeky, she sighs dramatically and says "fine but just this once..." and when he scoops her up and kisses her cheek about to take the cake from her hand she holds it back and says "one more for mammy."

🌼 So he slips behind the counter and slinks his arm around your waist pulling you away from your work to give you a very dragged out, much needed kiss. The kind he really shouldn't be giving you in front of the customers... Not when there's a queue.

🌼 You shoo him away so that you can get back to work telling him to go and sort his little hellraisers out in the kitchen.

🌼 But John doesn't want you to "get back to work" and so once he's rounded the terrors up and helped them clean up their mess in the kitchen he's right back ar your side, gruffly announcing to the line of customers that the bakeries closed and it's time to go home. Each and every one of your attempts at protest is silenced with a kiss and when you open your mouth to argue with him about it again he takes one of the cakes from the counter and puts it in your mouth to silence you so that in your shock there's nothing for you to do but take a bite, chew and cover your mouth to hide your messy giggle.

🌼 "Can't bloody believe you John Shelby! You're a bloody n..." "Irresistible, devilishly handsome, doting husband? I know love you don't need to tell me..." he teases taking the cake from your hands and helping himself to a bite. "Come along flower, we're all waiting for you, we wanna go home..."

🌼 And when faced with John and the wide doe eyes of all your little ones looking like angels now that dad's come and got them into shape... Well you can hardly refuse them.

🌼 Uses "Teach me how to bake love..." as a premise to get some time with you whilst you're working, his minds really not on baking though he is thinking of putting one in the oven...

🌼 At least one of your children have been conceived in that kitchen...

🌼 When you bring the children with you to family meetings so they can give everyone the cupcakes they made, John gives his brothers warning looks like "you will eat these very girly lookin cupcakes and you will tell my girls they're the best thing you've ever eaten!" he makes a big song and dance of telling everyone how amazing they taste.

🌼 Has started food fights in the kitchen with the kids. Has started food fights with his brothers at family meetings because he wasn't satisfied with Tommy's "wow Katy these are really good..."

🌼 Has definitely defused an argument with you by putting a handful of batter in your hand and instructing you to throw it at him. "C'mon flower, you're pissed off with me ain't you, fuckin throw it if you think I deserve it..." then being shocked and a little bit wounded when you actually do throw it... Arms around you immediately play wrestling with you to get his revenge.

🌼 And this usually ends up with the two of you kissing, wiping cake mix from one another's faces, closing the kitchen door so that your customers can't hear how you really resolve a fight...

🌼 Always making special requests, his favourite things you bake are your berry pies and he gets such a huff on when you inform him that you can't make anymore because the berries in question are out of season anymore. "Fuck the seasons.." gets genuinely cross he can't peaky blinder style intimidate the literal seasons.

Bonnie

🍀 It's unsurprising that Bonnie has quite the appetite considering a) he's a growing lad, and b) he's a boxer, always training, always exhausting himself in the ring...

🍀And yet once he finds your bakery, he's never too tired to stop in after a long day training, and you can't deny you don't look forward to seeing that oh so slightly mischievous smile every evening... so much so that sometimes you stay open just waiting for him to drop by.

🍀 He's always very sweet to you, always leans on the counter chatting away to you whilst he eats the sweet buns you save especially for him... It takes him a little while to realise that's what you're doing but when he works it out, that you hold treats back for him and you even stay open a little later waiting just for him he becomes a butterfly filled mess. Feels really proud, starts cheekily calling you things like "my favourite girl"

🍀then he starts stopping in early too, gets up at the crack of dawn just so he can drop by your bakery on his way to the boxing gym. He uses the excuse that he's hungry, that he needs to fuel himself up for the day but really it's because he wants to see more of you. Wants to get you alone.

🍀He joins you in the kitchen, sometimes helping you out, sometimes just sitting on the counter admiring you whilst you work, being a pest getting his fingers in the jam, pinching the strawberries you've carefully halved to top your pastries.

🍀 You're constantly swatting his hands away and threatening to kick him out but by now you both know you never will. That little crush you thought you might have on the young boxer has flourished and you wake up every morning looking forward to seeing him. In the hours between him leaving in the morning and returning to you after training your little bakery feels so empty and lonely without him.

🍀When he pinches some cherries from the top of one of your pies you gasp in frustration about to give him a scolding but when he sees you, your cheeks flushed that glow of annoyance in your eyes he can't help chuckling at you, telling you he's sorry, saying "c'mere dove, I'll share..." youre about to refuse when you catch the pining look in his eyes, the way he looks at you with such a quiet pining... it lights sparks inside you, leaves your heart racing, makes you feel very forgiving.

🍀So you give in and roll your eyes, say fine, come on share then... and though you expect him to place a cherry in your palm instead he plucks one from the stem and pushes it to your lips, watching you breathlessly as you take it in your mouth and sink your teeth into it. A little juice escapes your mouth and stains your lips and the corner of your mouth deep, sweet red.

🍀And he leans in without even thinking about it, kisses the corner of your mouth to catch the juice before it can trickle further and make a mess of your pretty face.

🍀You don't get much baking done after that and the cherry pie youd been labouring over is left forgotten about on the side whilst you and Bonnie get thoroughly lost in eachother.

🍀From then on Bonnie stops in on you twice a day every day, he walks you to and from the bakery morning and night and quite often makes up excuses to bring you back to the caravans at night. The first time you meet his family you're so nervous, wanting to impress them, the way Bonnie's been spending all his time outside the gym "elsewhere" people have begun to talk and so everyone is curious to meet the girl who has stolen his heart.

🍀You bake plenty of delicious buns and breads to gift them trying to make a good first impression and Bonnie is insistent that you really shouldn't have done, that they'll love you regardless of whether you bribe them with food, but secretly he just wants to keep you and your baked goods all to himself. "If everyone knows how good these are they'll all be coming here and then there'll be none left for me!" He says taking another bite from his second cinnamon bun of the afternoon.

🍀He stops talking however when you catch the stray icing hes got on his cheek and suck it off your finger, "Don't be daft Bonnie, I'll always save enough for you."

🍀He goes foraging for berries and fruits, always bringing you wild herbs he's picked that he thinks you'll be able to do something good with, sprigs of lavender and such to weave into your more intricate designs. His favourite thing however is to convince you to close up shop for the day and go foraging with him, taking you out into the country on the back of his pony, showing you all the best places to find your favourite herbs and flowers.

🍀 Pulling you down into the long grass beneath the trees, cradling you in his lap after a long walk, smothering you in kisses and affection.

Isaiah

🐀 Being the quiet, earthy homebody that you are you're not exactly Isaiah's type. He wouldn't even have met you had it not been for Michael dragging him out to your bakery one morning, insisting that you bake the best pastries in town.

🐀 And at first Isaiah is cynical, "fuckin pastries for breakfast are you soft lad, you eat fuckin pastries for breakfast... Them toffs who raised you really mess with your head didn't..." he's still taking the piss out of Michael when they walk into your bakery but one look at you steals the end of his sentence straight from his lips.

🐀 Because even with a light dusting of flour over your nose, your cheeks rosy from the heat of the oven, stray hairs escaping your pretty little hair scarf, he thinks youre the most beautiful woman he has ever laid eyes on and suddenly he's swallowing all his snide remarks.

🐀 and suddenly he's a little embarrassed, a little uncertain of himself because he's realised he's out of his depth when he wants to charm you. You're so different from the other girls in his life that he just doesn't know what to say to you.

🐀 "Would you like to try something sir?" You ask, your softness literally melting Isaiah. Michael is just sniggering a little smug because he'd known this would happen all along. This was his plan all along.

🐀 And then Isaiah realises that if he plays up to being clueless you will give him all the attention he desires offering for him to try different things, explaining what each item is...

🐀 You're surprised when Isaiah comes back the next day without Michael, you honestly weren't expecting to ever see him again.. it was clear to you that the bars and clubs were more his scene, that he'd choose whiskey and dancing over tea and cake anyday... But clearly Isaiah has his heart on the best of both worlds, he goes out at night with the peaky lads, raises hell and then visits you to see the soothing sight of your angel face every morning.

🐀 His curiosity impresses you though and every morning you pick something out special for him to try... You've heard what he gets up to on his Saturday nights and on Sunday morning you make sure you've got just the right cure for his sore head and jaded eyes.

🐀 Then one morning he doesn't show and you begin to worry about him, when Michael drops by you ask after his friend and though at first Michael laughs, giddy with mischievous excitement when he realises his friends been visiting the sweet little baker every morning... Then however he tells you Isaiah's in the hospital, got caught up in some unpleasant business. He doesn't tell you it's Peaky Blinders business but you know what he means...

Michael

🐀 And you're horrified to learn that the charming Peaky boy you'd grown rather fond of is hurt, so you beg Michael to take you to see Isaiah in the hospital. Michael genuinely can't hide his amusement as you busy yourself making up a basket of sweet and savoury treats for Isaiah, he's just watching you fuss over the hardened peaky lad, can't wait to rip the piss out of his friend who's clearly got an admirer.

🐀 And when you turn up at the hospital placing the basket down at Isaiah's bedside he's shocked... A little embarrassed at the way his attachment to you has been revealed so dramatically. But he's also touched, also beginning to realise how nice it is to have some consistency, how much he loves having someone so homely and comforting to take care of him.

🐀 So he invites you to stay, tells Michael to piss off and he lets you feed him one of the sweet buns you brought him. He's being extra charming, flirting with you, teasing you for your having visited him... "Anyone would think you were me girlfriend coming here an spoilin me like this darlin..."

🐀 You're speechless, you don't know what to say to him but you get very flustered and he thinks that's adorable so he puts you out of your misery very quickly, "can't say I'd mind that me like, havin you as me girlfriend... Lookin after me when I've been through the wars..." "If you want to be my boyfriend Isaiah Jesus you'll have to stop all this scrapping... I don't want to spend every Sunday in the hospital with you..."

🐀 But of course it's not the last time Isaiah winds up in the hospital and every time he does you bring him a basket of sweet treats... It makes him rather popular with the rest of the peaky boys who start dropping in on him much more often so that they can pinch treats from that basket when he isn't looking.

🐀 He asks you to teach him how to bake but much like John he can't keep his hands off you for long enough to learn. He does have quite nimble hands though and so eventually he gets very good at plaiting bread dough with you.

🐀 He's always bragging to Michael and Bonnie about you, he'll bring something from the bakery down to the Shelby offices or the boxing gym just so that he can eat it slowly taunting them about how good it is. "Ah ah boys hands off, my girl made this one just for me..."

☘️ You're so stubborn though he realises this is an argument he's not going to win so eventually he settles for a compromise. You can keep your bakery, keep your little business as long as he can be involved somehow. So he insists on helping with your accounts and being involved in the financial side of things... which you're really rather pleased about as you've never liked running the accounts, numbers aren't your friend and you find it so dull being stuck at a desk when all you want is to be in the kitchen.

☘️ Isn't happy that his girl has a job... he should be able to provide for both of you, he earns enough to spoil you rotten and yet you still insist upon working in that bakery.

☘️ But before you met Michael that bakery was your whole life, you've worked so hard to have a bakery all of your own, to have a business that belongs to you, to be able to make a living from something you love and you're not about to give that up for Michael just because he doesn't understand how much your work means to you...

☘️ And when Michael gets involved with the bakery and you begin to work at it together to grow the business you start trying to use it as a pitch to convince him to go straight, to leave his brothers corruption behind and settle for a humble but comfortable life, a safe life with you.

☘️ Of course that never works, Michael has ideas beyond his station, he likes the luxury which comes with being a gangster, he's enamoured by the glamour and fame which comes with being a Peaky Blinder...

☘️ Instead what ends up happening is that your bakery gets dragged into the Shelby business... When the lads hear about the delicious treats you bake they start coming up with excuses to hold their business meetings in your kitchen where they have access to all the delightful treats you bake fresh from the oven. But they're all so charming and Michael never lets them get up to any trouble so you grow quote fond of having them around.

☘️ You're very dedicated to your craft and Michael gets frustrated when sometimes he feels you pay more attention to bread than to him. He will tell you he's taking you out for dinner, ask you to be ready by seven and then find that you aren't even home... When he goes to find you at the bakery youre dusted head to toe in flower, nowhere near suitably dressed up to go to some fancy restaurant.

☘️ And you always look so genuine when you gasp and apologise for having lost track of time, when you start ranting about how you were just desperately trying to perfect this recipe, that you'd tried one idea and almost set fire to the kitchen so had had to start again, then you'd tried this other idea and it was almost right but not quite and that well, you really just wanted to perfect it so that you could bring it home for him to try because you wanted it to be perfect for him...

☘️ Well he thinks you're the sweetest girl in the world and he can't stay mad at you for very long. He loves that at the end of all that you were actually thinking about him all along, trying to bake the perfect treat just for him... He loves that you wanted it to be perfect for him, it makes him feel really special.

☘️ "Ah well never mind eh love," he sighs taking your cheeks in his hands to brush the flower from your face and kiss your nose, "the corrinthian can wait eh, got everything I need right here..."

☘️ He'll even try to help you with your projects sometimes even though he really doesn't like getting his hands dirty. He'll do it for you, just as long as no one else is around to see him doing some "real work"

☘️ Loves being spoilt by you, loves that you value his opinion above everyone else's. Gets a little wounded when you want to take something to a family meeting to ask everyone to try because "my opinion not good enough for you now love?"

☘️ You always have to pacify him with a kiss and a reminder that his opinion is of course the most important.

Taglist:

@inalovesrabbits-blog

@cocoaflowers

@zablife

@jomarch-wannabe

@itsghostgirlyo

@marwwfairy

@toddlerbodybag

@everysage

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#peaky blinders ff #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders headcannon #bonnie gold x reader #tommy shelby x reader #isaiah jesus x reader #arthur shelby x reader #john shelby x reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 month

Text

The Man 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: mob!Lloyd Hansen

Summary: a demanding customer complicates more than your work life.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You think you remember. Or at least you’ve convinced yourself that you do.

You go through the painstaking steps as the dark presence looms across the counter. The man walks along, just on the other side of the machines as you steam the milk. Toffee nut, yes, you’re pretty sure that was it.

You put it all together, step by step, hands shaking. Your lips move as you talk yourself through your work silently. You can do this. You still feel how the man scratched you through your shirt when he grabbed you, your skin fiery.

You give one last look to the foam and send a prayer up to whatever deity will hear it. You slowly move to the till and place the cup down. You wet your lips and clear your throat.

“Almond, toffee nut, half blond, half regular, cinnamon on top,” you declare, voice quavering as you stare at the bristle across the man’s upper lip. “Mr. Hansen.”

He clucks and leans on the counter, hooking one foot behind the other. He wraps his hand around the cup and slides it closer to himself. He stares down into as you fidget. You glance around at the baked goods.

“And a cinnamon bun?” You suggest but before you can carry through on the offer, a splash of liquid washes over you, hot despite the layer of steamed milk.

“Oat milk,” he crushes the empty cup in his large hand and throws it at your face. You sputter and blink as the foam drips down your cheeks.

“Sorry, sir, I’ll make it again.”

“Fucking right, you will, sweet lips,” he growls and stands straight, crossing his arms.

You pull the bottom of your apron up and wipe your face. You bend to pick up the empty cup and turn away. Your eyes sting and you wiggle your tingling nose. It’s fine. You can do this.

Oat, half blond, half regular, toffee nut, cinnamon on top. The smell of espresso and syrup clings to you as you make the death march back to the till. You set the cup down without a word.

Mr. Hansen, Lloyd, the boss, whatever he is, considers you as he lifts the drink and examines the careful leafy art in the foam. He turns it and inhales the scent, some of the foam catching in his mustache. He takes a breath as if about to dive into water and has a taste. The tip of his tongue pokes out as he pulls the cup away from his mouth. He hums. Does he like it?

Splash.

Another searing dousing and you stand there with a gasp, shaking off the dredge of his displeasure.

“Mr. Hansen, I--”

“First thing’s first. Shut the fuck up. You talk too much,” he tosses the cup. Bonk, right off your forehead. “Second, I changed my mind. Get me a mocha. Extra whip.”

You nod and keep your head down. You pick up the cup and stand, nearly slipping in the puddle around your feet. You dispose of the empty cup and go to the coffee machine. You begin your new task, hands clumsy and trembling. You add the whipped cream and return to the till. You put the cup down and grab onto the counter to keep from sliding through the liquid at your soles.

He lifts it and you wince, bracing for another deluge. He repeats the same deliberate examination. You swallow tightly as he samples your work. This time he doesn’t make a noise. As he lowers the cup, you flinch and take a step back.

He cackles, “relax, cupcake.”

You stare at him grimly. You flick your lashes and blow out your nerves. You hide your shaking hands behind you.

“Now you know who the fuck I am,” he says, “clean yourself up and get back to work.”

He grabs a package of the cookies along the small shelf beside the till then turns on his heel and struts to the door. You watch after him, damp and dripping. As the door opens and closes, you turn to face the mess. You sigh and go to grab the mop; you can clean the floor but you can’t do much for yourself.

You work at soaking up the excess then spray cleaner on the floor and wipe with paper towel to prevent it from getting sticky. As you work at sopping up the errant droplets from the counter, the door behind you swings open. You glance over your shoulder as Bre sweeps through.

“Alright, your turn--” She stops short as you face her. “What happened?” Her face slackens with dread and shock, “what did you do?”

“It was Mr. Jansen—Hansen,” you correct yourself, “he came by and--”

“I told you not to talk to him,” she hisses.

“I... I didn’t have a choice. He wanted a drink and--”

“Fuck. Fuck! What did he say? What did he do?” She snaps.

You recoil at her accusatory tone, “he... he threw coffee in my face? He took some cookies? I don’t know? He just... said now I know who he is. I didn’t really understand--”

“You don’t. You don’t understand. You don’t get it.”

You frown and cross your arms, “I’m sorry, Bre, I did my best--”

“Not good enough. You think it’s all fun and games. It’s not. That man is dangerous. Not just here, everywhere,” she shakes her head, “you’ll see. Out there, on your own. Give me your apron.”

“What?” You murmur.

“Get out. I’ll call Maurice and let him know it didn’t work out.”

“What? No, you can’t--”

“I am. Give me your apron. Now.”

You pout and sniffle. You reach back behind you and unlace the apron and lift it over your head. You hold it out to her, “it’s wet--”

“Just go.”

You hang your head and turn away. Your eyes begin to stream before you even get through the door. You grab your stuff from the backroom and give one last look around. You got fired. What are you going to do?

You fold your jacket over your arm and sling your bag from your shoulder. You let yourself out into the alley and head down to the street. You stop at the end and cover your face, sniveling behind your hands as you lean on the brick. You don’t want to go back home. You only just got there.

“Whatsa matter, sweet lips?” The low drawl is followed by a loud slurp, “bad day?”

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #the gray man #the man #au #drabble #mob au #series

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mrs-bucky-barnes106 · 10 months

Text

☆｡.:*･ﾟ Sweet Nothings ｡.:*･ﾟ☆

pairing: tfatws!bucky x baker!reader

warning: fluff, multiple mentions of cake, mentions of Bucky with children

a/n: Ahhh I had this idea before going to bed and literally stayed up two hours working on it. I finished it this morning, and I've gotta stay I'm proud of my commitment because I usually take at least a month to finish a fanfiction. Hopefully, there's more where this came from. P.S. I'm not a baker, so I'm sorry if I fudged any details. Feedback is always appreciated but please be kind. Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated but no reposting without credit <3

word count: 1.6k

summary: Reader is a baker and Bucky gets a cake from her to take to Sam's picnic party on the docks (scene from tfatws).

☆｡.:*･ﾟ

The bell jingled as Bucky entered Sweet Nothings, the bakery you had started from the ground up. He was instantly enveloped by the sweet scent of baked goods from the array of desserts neatly displayed in the glass case by the counter. Underneath the sugar, he smelled the new chai latte you had just added to the menu. It had been an instant hit, totally trumping the one at Starbucks that everyone raved about. Chai had been a nostalgic drink for you and a completely new one for Bucky. He now had an affinity for it, however, and asked for it every time he entered the shop after you made him the first honorary taste tester of the drink. Now, the shop was bustling since it was happy hour.

Soft music played in the background. Bucky recognized the voice of Taylor Swift, one of your favorite artists. She was one of Bucky's favorites now too. You had impeccable taste, and any song you loved became his favorite. The album that was currently playing was Midnights, the one you had told Bucky he was most like. He loved that about you, how you would associate things like albums and songs with him. It made his heart swell, knowing you thought about him in relation to music, which had a special place in your heart.

You were nowhere in sight, so he assumed you were in the back checking on your bread dough. Bucky approached the barrier that led to the backroom for employees and pushed the door open, hoping to surprise you while you were working. Once he entered, he found you bent over your proving drawer, checking on a fluffy batch of bread dough. He tiptoed up to you and grabbed your waist, lifting you off your feet and causing you to let out a yelp of surprise. Bucky spun you around, chuckling at your reaction (what did he expect when he literally attacked you with a bear hug from behind?).

Finally, he set you down on your feet and spun you around to face him. His eyes were crinkled with laugh lines as he took in your disheveled form. Your hair was in a low messy bun with a few strands astray in the front. You donned a cream-colored beret and a blue long-sleeve over which you had on your cheeky apron that read "Kiss the Cook." It was, of course, gifted to you by none other than your doting boyfriend. A light dusting of flour over your entire being gave you an angelic glow. In Bucky's eyes, you looked more heavenly than all of the desserts in your shop combined.

You blew your hair out of your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest before attempting to glare at Bucky. You didn't last long, however, as his sheepish grin caused you to look down, so he wouldn’t catch you smiling.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on me,” you admonished him half-heartedly. “Bakers can be dangerous when startled, you know.”

“Sure, doll,” Bucky still had on that cheeky grin. “I don’t know about dangerous, though. Former assassin here, remember?” He pointed at himself with his index fingers as if you didn't already know. "I think I can handle a blow from a rolling pin." He picked up the nearest tool his hand landed on, which, unfortunately for him, was a basting brush, making his joke fall flat. He sheepishly put the brush away as you tried not to laugh.

You gave him a warning look before turning your back to him and smiling wide. You may pretend to be annoyed by his antics, but they truly brought joy to your heart and brightened up your bland days. You loved your job, but you loved your man most of all.

“I’ve got the cake ready for Sam’s. Just gotta put the finishing touches on it. Did you bring the Oreos, baby boy?”

You turned around to find his face in yours. Had it been anyone else, you would’ve found it incredibly infuriating. But with Bucky, it left you blushing to your core.

He wrapped his arms around you and held up the blue plastic box. “Right here, sweetheart.”

It was a generic nickname that every single boyfriend in the history of the world had called his girlfriend at some point. But somehow, it was almost erotic coming from his plush pink lips with that deep timbre. You sometimes wondered if Bucky knew the effect he had on you.

“Thank you,” was all you trusted yourself to say as you took the box of cookies from him and started peeling off the plastic cover. You moved away from him and carefully placed six cookies on the cake, one on each of the iced rosettes on the border.

“Alright, Buck, I think it’s ready for the party. Lemme just get a box for it, and we’ll be on our way.”

Bucky smiled as he watched you tenderly place the plastic casing on the cake as if it was your baby. In a way, it was, along with all of your other creations.

“Alrighty then, doll,” Bucky grabbed the cake in his gloved flesh hand, then put his metal arm around your shoulders, pulling you in to plant a kiss on your temple. “Thank you so much for making this, baby cakes.”

You turned pink hearing him use your favorite nickname of all time. “Oh, it’s nothing,” you mumbled bashfully, suddenly shy again in the crook of his arm.

“It’s a Sweet Nothing, which means it’s the opposite of nothing. Doll, this cake is quite literally everything to me.”

“Buckyyy,” you playfully swatted him away. Sure, you were proud of your work, but you still got flustered when people complimented you, especially your boyfriend, who took every chance to make you feel like you were the biggest star in his world.

You eased yourself out of his embrace momentarily to hunt down your assistant. “Lemme just tell Nico to take over the closing shift tonight.”

Bucky nodded and waited patiently by the door for you to rejoin him. You returned and looped your arm around his waist to steer him out of your shop.

☆｡.:*･ﾟ

Bucky drove the both of you from the bakery to the docks in his pickup. You held the cake securely in your lap with your right hand and entwined your left with Bucky's. When you arrived, you let go of his hand and moved to open the door, but Bucky reached over you to close it again. Then he climbed out of the truck and rushed to open your door.

"M'lady," you rolled your eyes at him but couldn't help smiling as he took the cake from you so you could climb out of the car. He shut your door behind you, then took off with the cake balanced precariously in his flesh hand.

"Bucky! Be careful!" Your cries were drowned out by Sam's nephews, who were happily trailing Bucky at the sight of the cake. They tried play-fighting with him, pretending to punch him in the face, to which Bucky pretended to stagger backward from the force of impact.

You sighed and let the corners of your mouth lift as you watched your lover boy, totally enamored by his way with children.

Bucky ran to the nearest picnic table and finally placed the cake down safely. You let out a breath of relief you didn't realize you had been holding in and walked over to him.

☆｡.:*･ﾟ

Bucky returned to entertaining the kids a little while after everyone had eaten. He stood atop a picnic table, talking to you and Sarah with his metal arm extended out. Sam's nephew and his friend hung off of Bucky's arm. You were trying your hardest to concentrate on what he told you about his days in the Navy, but you couldn't help giggling softly at the sight of him effortlessly holding up two children using only one of his arms.

When you could finally steal a moment alone with him, you handed him a beer and tugged his arm to lead him to the pier's edge. You plopped down and let your feet dangle, the bottoms of your boots grazing the water's surface. After a moment, Bucky crouched down to join you. He scooted closer so his thigh was pressed up against yours. He put his arm around you, and you sighed softly, leaning into his shoulder and staring at the setting sun. Nose pressed against Bucky's shoulder, you inhaled, reveling in the warm scent of freshly-cut pine and the sweet undertones of amber and musky vanilla.

You leaned up to wrap your arms around his shoulder, suddenly needing to be closer to him than you already were. He seemed to understand and gently twisted to the side, snaking one arm around your lower back and using the other to bring your legs into his lap. You moved in to kiss him tenderly. Your hands were in his hair, his hands were on your hips, and everything felt perfect at that moment. You could still taste the Oreo cake on his breath, and you broke away from the kiss slowly, smiling all the while. Bucky returned your smile warmly as you turned to look at the sunset.

Bucky watched it paint your face the most gorgeous shade of pink and thanked his lucky stars at that moment. Somehow, life had brought you to him. He had never thought of himself as fortunate, but he was ecstatic now that you were in his arms, and he damn sure was never going to let go of this beautiful thing he had with you. He pressed his lips to your forehead and tightened his hold on you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

☆｡.:*･ﾟ

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undreaming-fanfiction · 1 year

Text

Steve and Chrissy as two internet-famous chefs/bakers, Steve with a channel focusing on (not always) easy homemade and nutritious meals, Chrissy with a baking channel full of body positivity to spite her mom.

They both get invited to something like Phoning It In from the Try Guys - a baking/cooking competition where they have to guide the actual chefs only through a pay phone. As the TG's show says: "the mind of a chef paired with the hands of an idiot". And the idiots in question are their best friends - Robin and Eddie. Which shouldn't be that bad, but then...they actually have to swap them. And they can't tell them what they're making.

It's a holiday episode so the theme is gingerbread.

Steve is slumped in the phone booth, sometimes covering the receiver and asking Chrisy why, why would her best friend refuse to measure ingredients in anything more precise than "a bit", "a bit more", "kinda enough", "oooh might be a bit too much" and "a fuckton".

Chrissy tries very hard to explain to Robin that artistic expression is an amazing thing, but hot sauce and gingerbread might be too artistic for the judges. Robin disagrees. Chrissy pleads with her and eventually talks Robin into just including some chilli flakes in her batter and not the hot sauce as a topping.

Eddie spends half of the prep time complaining to Steve that a gingerbread house is lame, it should have been a gingerbread castle. Robin agrees.

Robin deciding to give her tiny gingerbread men flannel shirts and spending way too much on decorating them. She runs out of time very soon and just writes "THIS IS FLANEL" into a shirt-shaped blob.

Steve and Eddie shamelessly flirting despite having never met each other and then threatening violence in equal measure to get the other one do what they want. "I bet your eyes are more beautiful than the entire sky full of stars Stevie, also I might have dropped one extra spoon of spices into the gloopy thingy and I don't want to get my hands more dirty than they are so I'll just leave it in-" "Eds, you vile seductress, your voice could charm many a seaman but if you don't get that spicy glob out of the batter I swear I will shave your head."

Robin somehow going from following the instructions into a full rambling mode and before they know it, she's just cutting hipster-shaped gingerbread flanelmen and telling Chrissy nearly her full life story, basically turning the prep into a therapy session. Chrissy listens and nods and just sometimes interjects with "people can be such jerks just because you're different, can you just quickly check that the temperature is still the same? Thank you Robs, now back to that asshole in your uni class-"

In the end, they finally meet at the judging table and present their work, bullshitting their way through explanations of many choices that were made (because the two actual chefs are not permitted to speak, only the great minds).

Steve almost sobs when he sees piped (and very melted) bats on toothpicks around the gingerbread castle, because of course Eddie made a castle. "I meant for that to happen, for the shock value" he announces when one of the bats starts a domino effect and knocks down the rest.

Chrissy's smile gets a little bit stiff when she sees attempted man buns on the gingerbread men's heads - ones which have unfortunately melted and they now have flowing ponytails. Slightly burned.

Steve confidently claims that the reason why his gingerbread house is black and has spires is because his little brother adores Dungeons and Dragons and he wanted to give him a cool prop for the final encounter with the big evil. When the castle crumbles because Eddie didn't bake it long enough, Steve just dramatically stands up and announces that the evil warlock has been defeated. Eddie almost faints behind the screen and unceremoniously asks Robin if that gem of a man is taken.

Chrissy explains how the gingerbread men are wearing flanel in honor of her best friend's uncle who is the flanel overlord. When the judges bite into the figures and taste the chilli flakes, Chrissy earnestly tells them that Eddie's uncle is a man with hidden depths and spicy personality (Eddie chokes on his own tongue at that) and Robin was kind enough to reflect that.

In the end, it doesn't matter who won. Eddie asks Steve (after he tastes the gingerbread bat, gingerbat) if he's still about to shave his head and Steve says it would be a shame, but he can make it up to him by inviting him for coffee. Robin awkwardly thanks Chrissy for listening to her and Chrissy admits she loved her rambling, that she hates it when it's quiet.

It all ends well (except for the gingerbread).

#steddie #buckingham #steddie au #buckingham au #steve harrington #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #robin buckley

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lovings4turn · 2 months

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lazy spring mornings with eddie . . . you're both woken by the first mellow rays in sunlight filtering through your curtains and dancing over your faces. eddie stretches, pulling half of his messy curls up into a makeshift bun away from his face. you both pad down to your kitchen, eddie getting started on a pot of coffee whilst you decide to bake a cake to welcome the first days of the season. the tulips eddie saved up to buy you sit in a vase, the centre piece to your small dining table. lazy kisses are exchanged, and you bake to the sound of eddie humming his favourite songs and imitating the guitar solos, your very own personal radio.

#☾₊ ⊹ 📼 ; becca’s boards #fully inspired by the lemon loaf currently baking in my oven #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson moodboard #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you

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chrollohearttags · 11 months

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𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐫 • 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞

when you ask your best friend to tag along for an errand run, the day becomes far more fun than intended. An outing filled with laughs, mischief (and a whole lot of flirting) turns into something far more adventurous than either of you expect. With friends like these, who would ever need a lover again?!

content warning and themes: college au, plus size black fem reader, banter and humor, fluff, exhibitionism, mentions of car sex, mentions of alcohol, fingering, handjob, nipple play, slight spit play, him and the reader are super close, lots of sexual tension between them, praise kink (fuck does he exploit it too), slapping, squirting, backshots, pet names, 69, (pretty girl, mama, baby cakes, my love, daddy is used a few times and eren def has a kink for that shit), mutual masturbation, creampie

word count: 8.5K

📝: this lovely commission was requested by @thesilenthill and I have to thank them so much for entrusting this piece to me and letting me have creative control. This was waaay more fun than it should have been but I enjoyed this and I hope that you do as well! 🫶🏾

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Saturday: a day synonymous with fun, relaxation and rest for most. Recharging from the strenuous week. But for (y/n) (l/n), the everyday hustle and bustle of work never ceased. As a full time college student who sold baked goods on the side, you were the epitome of a girl boss. Always making something happen and getting things done all by your lonesome. Still, it didn’t hurt to have some companionship and assistance sometimes..hence why you were sitting at the kitchen table..thick curls atop your head held back by a pink bandana as you looked at the printouts of all your orders splayed out and ready to be dispensed around campus to faculty and students alike. Having spent all morning baking up the sweet treats. You had quite the reputation for your delectable pastries and prompt delivery. So you had to get a move on and get them all out. However, there were a few things that needed to be added prior to that happening so a store run to a few nearby shops was crucial. Walmart for the decorations, Michael’s for the packaging and a bank run for all your earnings. Not too hectic of an expedition but it’d be a whole lot easier and exciting if you had some company while doing so. That’s why you were thrilled when you’d look down to see your phone illuminating and buzzing against the surface, only to see the one person you were hoping would call and you’d never answered a FaceTime faster!

“Good morning, pretty girl! How’s my beautiful best friend doing?”

pearly white teeth and glazed green eyes glared back at you through the screen. That semi-tanned, bare skin glistening underneath the sunlight..probably from a morning run and his long locks tied into its signature style of a half bun and the rest hanging; it was none other than the man you had called your best friend since high school..

“I’m doing great, baby cakes! You’re up before noon, I see. Coach ‘get on your ass again?”

“When isn’t that lil’ sawed off son of a bitch yelling at me? You know the drill sergeant lives to torment the whole team.”

Eren Jaeger: sophomore at St. Maria University, along with yourself and point guard on the men’s basketball team. Here on a full ride athletic scholarship and a total smartass. Always staying in hot water with head coach Ackerman; mostly due in part to his slick mouth and childish antics. Almost always something referring to his height. But he was the best damn player that team had ever gotten. Especially since he led them to a championship with his first year on the team. Needless to say, his spot was solidified. But that wasn’t going to stop his coach from making sure he trained his ass off! Hence why he was up, getting in a morning run. More than likely against his will. But so long as he had his favorite person to chat with, he was good. As per usual, he wasn’t shocked that you answered on the first ring. He knew you were busy doing one thing or another. Hardly ever sleeping, if at all. If it wasn’t some assignment to help maintain that 4.2 GPA or stay atop the dean’s list, you were baking your little behind off and running orders around to the various dorms. You made a pretty good grip and rightfully so, because your cupcakes and cookies were too goddamn good! He would eat himself sick from the freebies you’d give him, hence why he stayed away during the season because he had no restraint. But today, he wanted nothing more than to hang out with his (y/n) and no one else! And not a moment too soon, because you sort of needed his help!

“Well you know you be asking for it, ‘Ren. You can not tell the head coach that he’s fun sized. No wonder that man hates you.” Both of you blurting out into laughter before you could even get the words out. There truly was never a dull moment with this doofus. But that’s what you loved about him, he always kept you entertained. “Anyways! While you’re messing with people...I called to see what you were up to. I’m tryna hang out with my best friend today. Always too busy for lil’ ol’ me. Got her own business and shit now, she doesn’t have time for small fries anymore.” Glaring off into the camera as if he were pouting and making you feel bad. To which you’d only smack your lips and roll your eyes in response. “Oh, you’re so dramatic. Sir, your ass was just here yesterday. Eating all my damn leftover frosting.” “What?! It was good..and I needed to taste test, ‘make sure it wasn’t poisoned.” He truly was a handful when he wanted to be.

“Well I need your help again. Wanna come run some errands with me? I gotta do deliveries today and I need some more packaging stuff to put them in. Unless you don’t have—“

“Say it and I’ll hang up right now. For my favorite girl, imma make time. Now get dressed and I’ll be over there in about an hour.”

it’s always so cute how he got behind you. He would blow off everyone else..bail out on dates, not pick up his phone for his other friends or teammates..but not (y/n). You were the only one he'd drop anything he was doing and come running. Needless to say, it made many of your other female peers despise you and led a lot to believe that the two of you were dating. But it was nothing of the sort. That was your homie and nothing else. You had held each other down since freshman year of high school and never changed up, not once. With no plans to either. Still, it didn’t help either of your cases when you flirted like lovers and even playfully kissed from time to time. Even making the occasional sexual advances toward one another. Or when the two of you would go out clubbing; him with a drink in his hand and the other on your ass as you threw it back on him to Megan or Moneybagg. And with you being a bigger girl, he’d oftentimes get whispers that there’s no way he could handle all of that. That he wasn’t man enough to know what to do with a girl like you. But he did..mounted behind you as he let you twerk on him. He’d keep that stupid grin on his face all the way until the next day, thinking about it too! Regardless, you had a bond that couldn’t be broken and you wanted to spend every second you could together. As basketball season would be back soon and your academics would be keeping you away. So you’d declare the call over, hanging up and heading to get ready. You’d stack the receipts neatly into a pile before getting up and going to go shower. As well as get yourself ready for the day. And something told you..it was going to be one you’d never forget!

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an hour or so passed and as promised, Eren was at the front entrance of your off campus apartment. Only a mere mile away from the school itself. Pulling up in his red and black Camaro that he had so appropriately nicknamed Venom. You could hear him arriving well before you even spotted him because the pipes were so loud, in addition to the speakers thudding from the trunk. He was a show off in every aspect of the word. Whether on or off the court. But alas, you were so happy to see him and when you came out, dressed in that white biker shorts and tube top set that hugged all your curves just right; including the tummy, hips and ass. The titties were sitting just right too. Along with a crossbody bag and Nikes; hair and nails laced as always; your thick, natural curls bouncing around ..and makeup done, he was smitten. Smiling from ear to ear at the sight. “My best friend so damn fine..look at you.” And you’d mirror his sentiment. The six foot three, tanned ball player in shorts, a baseball jersey with a wife beater underneath, bucket hat and Dunks with a gold wristwatch. Looking good as fuck but that was always. It was no wonder half the campus was after him. Greeting you with open arms and your signature handshake, before pulling you back into a hug. One where he gripped the fat of your ass in the process..something that you didn’t mind one bit! It was then that you’d catch a whiff of his Dior cologne. Making you nearly fall to your knees right there in the parking lot. And truthfully, he didn’t even want to stop touching you. Hands resting on your back until you spoke.

“That’s all you, babyboy. Ready to go?”

“Of course..let’s get up outta here.”

but not before he shuffled around to the passenger’s side to open the door for you. To which you’d repay him with a soft peck to the cheek. He was so sweet and chivalrous, it was adorable. Once he made sure you were secure, he’d sprint to his respective side and the two of you were set for take off. Peeling from the parking lot, you guys were ready for the day ahead. Whilst you were sitting pretty in his passenger seat, Eren began to ask you some questions about what all you needed to do and where to go. “That’s all?! You should’ve called me sooner. We could’ve been left.” “And have Coach Ackerman mad at me for interrupting your conditioning? Hell nah. Besides, we have plenty of time. I just finished the last batch so they’ll be fine. Also, now that you’re done, we have more time to hang out.” Which seemed to be the only thing he wanted to hear. Perking up along with forming a grin across his face, Eren continued driving along..content and satisfied as long as you were by his side. “So you were waiting for me? That’s so sweet.” Because whether it was a party or the pastry section of the store, you guys would always find a way to make it fun and interesting. With no telling what type of adventures you’d get into it. “Duh. Who else is gonna keep me entertained?” “You mean get you in trouble?” “That too, shit..” Ready for whatever the day may bring..the whole time though, you couldn’t help but notice that Eren kept stealing glances of you, more so than usual. Looking over as you sang along to whatever was on his playlist. “Mmm, I don’t mind though. You know I love trouble.” Applying your lip gloss and adjusting your outfit with that sexy smirk on your face. And thus, the flirting commenced. He couldn’t help but stare when you were so gorgeous. That body was something serious and he knew it wasn’t right because you were his best friend, but damn, he was having some thoughts he shouldn’t have after that last remark. Even spacing out as you were talking; letting his mind wander to farther..more inappropriate places. That was until you broke his trance!

“ ‘Rennn, are you even listening to me?”

“Yeah. So where are we going first?”

to which you’d respond with Michael’s and he’d do exactly that. Maneuvering out in and out traffic, switching lanes with one hand on the wheel. It was something so attractive about him doing the most simple of things. So much so, it had you chewing at your lip. You wanted to mess with him, especially seeing his cheeks burning red. “You alright, babyboy? Are you good?” Nodding gently in response. And it wasn’t for a lack of confidence to say these things. You were closer than anyone so a filter didn’t exist and you’d gladly reveal your thoughts. The two of you constantly made jokes about what you'd do to the other. Even if it never led to anything. ‘You know I’ll fold your pretty ass up, right? Stop playing with me, (y/n).’ Saying it constantly after you teased him far too long. More often than not because you’d make a comment or brush up on his thighs. ‘Then quit talking and do it. I’m trying to see what you got.’ You even recalled one time where he FaceTimed you after practice and he had just gotten out of the shower. Leading you to tell him to drop his towel so you could get a peak and he nearly did it; rubbing up on his tattooed chest and raking his fingers through his wet hair. That’s just the type of bond you had! However, any more inappropriate ideas or behavior would have to wait as after a few turns and a red light, you guys arrived at your destination. Unbuckling the seatbelts and grabbing your phones, as well as your purse, the two of you began your journey inside of the infamous craft store. Walking extremely close and even trying to tickle you playfully as you walked up towards the entrance. Which he held the door open for you to. Once inside, he took in the sights and crisp air. This most certainly wasn’t his speed by a long shot. His mom would often tell him during their daily phone calls about her trips to the place back home because she was doing some extreme couponing and decided to stock up on Halloween and Christmas decorations during the summer. He had not the first clue what this place sold or entailed but seeing the sheer happiness on your face was all he needed!

“Look! These cupcake boxes are so pretty! And this ribbon, ugh! I love it.” Your enthusiasm drew a laugh from Eren as he watched from the side. “Look at you, getting all excited..so cute.” Truthfully, it had his heart fluttering. Seeing you in a good mood made him feel better. And gave him an excuse to pick on you. “Like an old ass lady.” Prompting you to smack your lips at him. “You’re just being a hater.” Which he’d deny, playfully pouting his lips and shaking his head. “Not true. I’m just making an observation..” also taking the opportunity to steal a glance at your ass you bent over to retrieve some wrapping paper. Being your best friend was one thing but he was a man before anything. Even the smallest and most minor actions from you made him nervous sometimes. He didn’t know how to deal with his obvious emotions for you. Nonetheless, he’d aimlessly and happily follow you around the store..letting you pick up whatever and place it into your basket. By the time you finished, you had a cart full and he had to carry it for you. Or rather, he wanted to. Once you reached the counter, he’d surprise you again by paying for the items, which came to a nearly one hundred total. A drop in the bucket to the son of a doctor but still, he didn’t have to. You were perfectly fine with taking care of it. That’s just how he was when it came to you though. He’d do anything for his best friend and to see that beautiful smile.. “..thank you, ‘Ren. You didn’t have to do that though. I’m good.” As per usual though, he’d dismiss you by sucking his teeth and paying you no mind. He was always taught to never let a woman pay for her things in the presence of a man. That’s just how he operated. Which was a far cry from the losers you had been on dates with that tried to ditch out at the last minute. Sometimes, he really was the only guy you could tolerate and enjoy. With your bags in tow, Eren carried them to the car, placing them in the backseat before sliding around to open your door for you. Another subconscious habit of his that really made your heart flutter and your feelings for him increase exponentially. “Anyways, where are we heading next? Just say the word.” more than willing to do whatever it took to keep a smile on your face. Little did you know just how far he would go to fulfill that promise..

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .** . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .** . °•★|•°∵

The day would ensue as normal; the two of you picking up all of the necessary items you needed..taking a trip to Walmart that was nothing short of adventurous. Pushing him around in the cart, taking silly Snapchat and TikTok videos together. You guys were having a hell of a time. During the day, you couldn’t help but to notice how clingy he had been..constantly feeling you up and even coiling his hand around your waist while standing in line. “Get off of me, you’ gone have people thinking you're my man.” Jokingly brushing him off of you but he was very serious. “Fuck you mean? I am your man. We’re married.” Not long after that, you circled back around campus to make all of your deliveries and of course, your lovely assistant was more than happy to help you ensure that each order was filled and the customers were satisfied. It was the most fun you had ever had since opening up shop. Needless to say, the day was a success and now, the two of you were closing it out with a much needed celebratory dinner at one of your favorite spots in town..

“Ren, my love. I don’t know how I could ever thank you for helping me today. You really came through for me..I don’t know if I would’ve been able to make all of those deliveries by myself. You’re a lifesaver.”

(Y/N) was currently sitting directly across from Eren in a booth tucked off in the back of the place. You were nursing a margarita as you guys awaited your orders. It had been quite a long and eventful day so it felt good to wind down, especially with your favorite person. But it did no good to thank him because he was not trying to hear any talks of repayment or reciprocation when it was all but second nature to him. You honestly didn’t owe him a thing. Especially considering the fact that he was the one wanting to hang out with you. Taking another sip of his Coke, he’d do as per usual and dismiss you with a wave. Refraining from any alcoholic drinks as he was the driver. “You ain’t gotta thank me at all. I already told you, gorgeous..for you? I’ll do whatever.” Causing a barrage of butterflies to swarm in your stomach. If it were even remotely possible, your face would be beet red right now! But alas, he had just covered for you when you’d flash him a smile and reach out for his hand. “I’m a lucky girl. I don’t think too many people can say that they have a best friend as amazing as mine.” “Or as handsome, don’t forget that.” He’d utter playfully; rubbing on his imaginary beard and winking. He truly was a character! Suddenly, the waitress would return with two small bowls holding ice cream sundaes, which was what you had been waiting on. Of course, the girl couldn’t stop staring at Eren, nervously trying to maneuver around…the two of you dove spoon first into the sweet treat, you’d continue your conversation and toying with him.

“You know, one of these days..I think one of these girls is gon’ snatch you up from me. You’ve been getting looks all day.” Which he dismissed as always..for someone so good looking, he was incredibly humble and bashful. You’d think that he was just downplaying his attractiveness but sometimes, he really didn’t see what everyone else did. Especially what you saw. Outstretching a tattooed arm with his gold watch brushing the table, he’d simply continue eating; only smirking a bit without making eye contact with you. “Well I’m not worried about ‘em. I ain’t even interested, honestly. Besides, they can’t do shit for me.” Which was crazy because some of them were insanely beautiful; thick and curvy with a lot of ass, some with slender model bodies that looked like they resided in the gym and others, who were probably cheerleaders or dancers. More so suited to be his type. But it was just one thing they were all missing:

“They’re not you so what the hell do I want with them?” Meaning every single word of what he said. Perhaps you guys weren’t dating or even thinking of a relationship but he constantly made it clear that you were the only woman he wanted in his presence. However, you were afraid if you kept lingering around, he’d never get a girlfriend because everyone would assume that you were his lady. Which wasn’t fair. “Eren. Now some of them were probably really nice and you won’t even give them a chance.” “Sure won’t. The last girl I ‘dated’, tried to steal from me and then cried to get out of it. The other one? Fucked my teammate two days after we had sex. I’m good, trust me. No offense but these bitches can’t even get a handshake out of me at this point. Leave me alone.” Prompting you to laugh, which you felt awful about but his expression was so funny. He wasn’t the type to make a huge fuss out of things but he didn’t tolerate bullshit well either. It took twice for him to get burned to never play near the fire again. Truth be told, he didn’t need those types of problems in his life. Basketball was important and he wasn’t about to let some sleazy homie hopper jeopardize it. Not only that, it did him no good to have a woman in his bed when all he could think about was you being there. Even so, he’d only cross that line if you wanted to. Especially considering that if he voiced all of the perverse thoughts that ran through his head on a daily, he didn’t know if you’d be able to handle it. Besides, you guys were extremely comfortable with one another.

“Enough about me though. Since we’re all in people’s business..what happened between you and dude from the football team? You never talked about him.” Something about the mention made you tense up and want to punch the wall. The defensive lineman you went on a date with a few weeks back was strange to say the least. “Because there ain’t shit to talk about. He pissed me off.” But for all of your grilling and interrogation, he wanted to do the same and hear this story. Even being the petty little brat he was and moving over to your side of the booth to listen. Sometimes, he truly was aggravating! “No no, (y/n). Please share with the class. I gotta hear this.” And since it was obvious he wasn’t moving, you’d sigh and tell him how the guy took you out to go see a movie, to dinner at some really cool restaurant and the evening was going well enough until it wasn’t. And with the more that margarita began to infiltrate your system, the less of a filter you had.. “..I knew he wanted to fuck the whole night, it was the only reason he was pressing me so hard anyways and honestly, he was pretty cute so I didn’t mind. He had been bragging about how he was going to do this and that to it so I decided to test him. We ended up at his place and let me tell you..worst five minutes of my life. Didn’t last one round, couldn’t find the clit..started shaking when I tried to give him..you get the picture. I got my shit, left and blocked his number. I was so mad.” But your best friend was intrigued to say the least. Smirking and laughing because he just always knew you were a problem that many dudes couldn’t handle. Hence why he’d always find it when they’d approach him, asking for your number or to hook them up. You were even more selective than he was! “Ooh (y/n)…you a lil freak, huh? I’m scared of you.” Making you gently push him away in the process. That truly wasn’t even your style to do a ton of hookups or even date often but you figured you’d give that loser a chance, only for him to blow it. Thus proving your point..

“Oh hush. You know I’m not like that. But I don’t think I’ll be wasting my time again. I think I’m cool off of men for good.” But it seemed that Eren had the perfect solution to solve both of your problems. “Damn shame, honestly. You deserve better than that..I mean, I could do a better job.” It was painfully obvious to him that neither of you had the slightest interest in any other person, whether for dating or hookups. You spent the majority of your time together anyways. So why not have a little fun..together? “..oh? Is that right?” “You’ll see..” At least you could try and experiment with a person you trusted. The opportune moment would present itself when you took another spoonful of your ice cream and a single droplet just so happened to trickle down onto your chest! Almost as if it were too perfect! “Oh, damnit.” Trying to catch it before it stained your white top. But there was no napkin required when suddenly, you’d find Eren’s face smashed between your breasts, slurping up the trail of liquid and flicking his tongue between them. Completely catching you off guard! Not because you didn’t enjoy the feeling or that it was so uncommon for the two of you to touch like this..but because he had done it around all of these people!

“Eren, what the hell are you doing?!” Your voice shrieking into a high pitched whisper. Although you were trying not to laugh mostly; feeling slightly ticklish at the sensation. Not to mention a bit turned on…

“What? I was just helping..that’s all.” Stating so long after any remnants of the confectionery was cleaned up. His lips tracing against your skin and eventually, his hands joined them. You couldn’t believe that this was happening and right here in a restaurant nonetheless. Luckily, you were in a booth tucked towards the back of the establishment..away from potentially prying eyes and muddled in the background of the dozens of other patrons..lost in menial conversation and laughter. Too busy to pay attention to anyone other than themselves..which was perfect for Eren! Who was currently groping on your breasts, seemingly unable to pull away. Chewing at your bottom lip, you’d smirk; keeping an eye out for anyone that may be nearing your table. For now, the coast was clear and you two were free to continue your deviance. “I mean..that is what friends are for, right? Helping each other out?” Taunting and teasing you whilst gently massaging your plump tits..slowly pulling your top down and exposing your nipples to the cool air. All the while, you couldn’t help but to stare down at him..letting out soft huffs along with fluttering eyes. He would’ve never done something so lecherous and naughty with another girl. He barely even felt compelled to give them a kiss after the date but with the desire for you growing by the second and the constant talks of seducing one another, he figured there was no time like the present to put such a statement to the test. “Any of your little boyfriends ever done something like this?” Shaking your head, you’d let out a gentle whimper as Eren’s tongue delicately flicked around your swollen brown buds; nimble, perfectly manicured fingers cupping underneath those beautiful mounds. “Mmhmm no.” Shooting you a wink before taking each nipple between his fingertips and squeezing. “Then there’s a first time for everything, huh?” He knew that you were the type of woman that adored spontaneity; oftentimes confiding in him the things that you craved for your next relationship and what you’d do once you got your person..more so specifically, how nasty you’d get for them. You loved when a man took initiative to surprise and sweep you off of your feet. To do something fun and exciting..the type that would undoubtedly on a whim, take you on a day trip out of town and do something fun. Or the type to suck your titties and finger you in the middle of a restaurant! Anything to keep the thrill going..

“ ‘Ren…we’re gonna get caught. Oh my gosh—“ “that’s half the fun, isn’t it? Besides, it’s what you wanted..” all bets and consequences with you around. Suddenly, you’d find yourself caught off guard yet again when he slipped a set of digits into your shorts, and began to massage those obviously soaked folds. Even managing to push one inside of you and pump; making you throw a hand over your mouth in an attempt to pacify your moans. The sounds of sloppy, wet kisses, your sloshing juices and his breath could be heard only faintly through the thumping, upbeat music and various voices. You two were lost in your own world as well..actually doing what you had so long sought after and that was claiming one another’s bodies. But you couldn’t let loose the way you desperately desired. Just then, you’d notice the waitress making her way back over to your area and you’d quickly pat Eren’s shoulder to stop him. To which he’d withdraw; rising back upright and helping you adjust your shirt but not before allowing you to lick your own flavor from his fingers. All with the promise of letting him do whatever once you guys got out of here. And he planned to do exactly that….and give you a night you’d soon never forget!

page break (and partial time skip)

“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this—oh fuck..”

“Shit, can’t believe we’ve waited this long…”

having made it out of the public eye and nighttime skies, back in the comfort of his apartment, where you were free to do as you pleased. Starting with a brief makeout session in the car..kissing up on his neck and fondling his clothes crotch as he drove through the city. Maneuvering throughout the traffic as he tried to contain his hard on, that was growing far more erect with each passing moment. Even jerking him off from the passenger seat when it came to a standstill downtown. Finally, you’d find yourself on his bed..legs parted and partially nude because he couldn’t wait to get his hands on you. Still exchanging slow tongue kisses to the sound of music faintly thumping from his mounted TV. He was still fixated on those big titties as he circulated his thumbs over them. Meanwhile, your palm was still clutching his exposed cock; working his shaft between it as he hovered over you. The realization of what was taking place had set in for both (y/n) and Eren. Honestly, neither of you held a single regret. Whatever happened behind these four walls tonight was you guys’ business and yours alone.

“Lay back f’r me, pretty girl. I wanna see you play with yourself.”

words you never thought to hear coming from your best friend of eight years’ mouth. But truthfully, it wasn’t the first time you had done so. Lying in bed at night, touching yourself to the thought of him inside of you. Pinning your legs back and fucking you all types of crazy. Something you’d never admit out loud but now, nothing was off limits. But alas, you’d do as he asked..bending those thick legs and placing them onto the bed before spreading them as far as they could go. You’d run a hand down your torso and tummy until you reached that plump little pussy, which you parted with two fingers that you had soaked with your own spit. You were so damn sexy to him and it was like a dream turned reality that he had you all to himself. However, there was a reason for his little set of instructions, as he plans to utilize it later on. Before he touched you any further, he needed to know what made you tick, what turned you on and of course, everything he needed to please you. He wanted this first time between you guys to be semi-special because he wanted there to be a next! To be able to make love to you as many times as he liked, even if no formidable romantic relationship came out of it and you guys remained nothing more than friends . He just wanted you to be satisfied…

“..tell me all that you said in the car. All that nasty shit you wanted me to do..” from your tamest of demands to your filthiest, freakiest desires, he was all ears. Setting his ego aside and letting his partner communicate was important to him. He could do all of these intricate moves; touching you here, licking you there but if it wasn’t what got you going then there was no point in you guys taking this step! It seemed awkward but it was necessary. Instead, he’d join you on the mattress as you rubbed on that swollen clit and edged himself along, listening to your demands. From how you liked things just a little rough; being slapped or choked…how giving head got your pussy wetter than receiving sometimes and that you obviously loved having your nipples sucked on. Most importantly, you liked being on top but absolutely loved, being controlled and dominated a bit. It was something about a man being able to handle you like a weightless rag doll that you got you off! “You think you can handle that?” Jokingly stating but he wasn’t deterred at all. Rather, he was more determined than ever. He had no idea his best friend was so nasty. And with all of that pertinent information, Eren knew exactly what had to be done..

“Yeah..come sit on my fucking face.”

demanding as he lied flat against the mattress with his dick standing perfectly erect. You thought he was crazy at first but he mirrored your sentiment. Because too became more aroused when pleasing his partner. It may have been a bit of an obsession even, but he loved eating pussy…shoving his tongue inside of you, working his fingers around and sucking on that swollen bud. All for the payoff of that sweet cum trickling down the sides of his mouth. He knew you tasted heavenly and he wanted to savor you yet again. However, you were a little apprehensive about doing what he asked; afraid you might suffocate him but he was a true man, not a little boy. He could handle that shit and then some! Giving you an encouraging, heavy handed slap to the ass, he’d usher you to turn around and position yourself on his face whilst yours would be buried between his legs. “Don’t look at me like that. Sit that ass on my face, baby. I can handle it.” Locked in a sixty nine position where you both free to fuck each other’s mouths. Grasping his thighs and calves to keep a firm grip, you’d begin by flicking your tongue across his tip; red, pulsating and seeping with pre cum. Oozing all down the sides as you were quick to lap them up. Eventually, you’d start to gain a rhythm..slowly sliding that tongue up and down his shaft as if it were a delicious lollipop. He was grunting underneath you; a sure sign that you were doing a wonderful job of pleasuring him. Honestly, it was the best head he had ever gotten. Meanwhile, his nose was buried into your mound..inhaling the sweet scent of your cunt as he dove tongue deep into your pussy. You were both working in tandem to bring each other pleasure, no matter what. Faint humming and moaning arising from his lips and loud cries erupted from yours. Finding yourself gagging on a portion of that thick cock, you’d spit up and eventually jerk him off. “Eren…oh my god. Eating this pussy so good..fuck yes.” Cooing to him through desperate moans. But he’d only urge you to keep riding his face with those subtle twerks by spanking you. You’d come any minute now if he didn’t stop.

suddenly, you’d find yourself stuffed to the brim with two fingers, pumping interchangeably as they worked your insides..

“Pussy taste so fucking good..can’t wait to feel this shit.”

and he didn’t have to wait long once you began to wiggle that ass on his face, begging him to fuck you already. You needed to feel that dick stretching you out and see what he could really do with it. Could your best friend truly be the one you had been looking for? You’d find out soon enough when he patted your plump cheeks again and told you to let him up so that he could get behind you. Once you were both in position, he’d grasp the small of your back and guide you towards him, watching those fat lips spread open from behind.

“Arch that fucking back for me, baby. Right there—see, you know what to do.” Chuckling to himself as he grasped his shaft and patted it against those folds, teasing the tip up and down your slit until you trembled underneath him. “Mmphm..I need it so bad. Please..” “..what is it? What do you need? Tell me..” it was so expected of him to tease you like this. But it was all as a means to not only get you even more turned on but to establish control a bit. He wanted to hear you whimper and grovel for what you desired. “Erennn, quit playing. Oh my God.” That sweet little voice moaning his name and everything else was the driving force behind it all. When you didn’t answer to his liking, he’d smack it yet again and proceed to ask once more. “I said tell me..what do you want me to do? Use those words.” growing slightly more impatient and anxious himself, as his tip was practically glowing red and throbbing, still sensitive from being sucked and edged on. He was ready to put it to good use. But you were a little hesitant that you could take it! You figured he was packing, that was never a doubt in your mind. But that he was this big? Veiny, thick and eight and half inches. Oh, you could see why half the campus was after him. However, his sights were locked and set on you solely.

“Fuck me…give me all that dick.” Flicking your tongue across your lips to entice him further.

to which he was happy to oblige! Placing his thumb slightly above your asshole, Eren began to ease himself in, releasing a deep, shuddered breath when that warmth began to make contact with his length. He was overwhelmed by how tight and sticky you were but he held his own and was willing to do whatever to satisfy you sexually. Even if it meant getting slightly rough as you requested. You’d grasp at the sheets, face down already because that cock was making home between your walls and stretching you out in the process. The insane part was that he only got halfway before you began to shake, as well as coat him with wetness.

“..damn, and you’re creaming? Shit, (y/n).” But he was merely getting a taste of what was in store. If he wasn’t careful, you’d have him taking up permanent residence at your place and ready to fight any dude you fucked with. But you were certain there’d be no need in spinning the block after getting a taste of him. The guttural groans leaving his throat, the subtle yet deep thrusts causing the collision of your flesh; the thick of your ass against his pelvis..all underneath the dim, fluorescent lighting of the tv. The vibe was right for all that was transpiring and you honestly didn’t want it to end. Fortunately, he had no plans for that..he wanted to take his time and make this moment all the more memorable. After all, he had been waiting a while for this opportunity. To have you throwing it back on him, meeting his strokes, even through rough pounding and hard smacks to your backside. With his palm resting idly between the cusp of your love handles and hip, Eren tugged you towards him, gradually increasing his speed. The thunderous sounds of clapping flesh meshing well with your collective set of moans. Plump lips swallowing him with each one and inside, being met with a pulsating feeling.

“Ahhh..fuck, mama. This pussy’s so good. The best I’ve ever had..”

sounding ever so vulnerable with his head rolled back on his shoulders, fearing that if he caught a glimpse of those bouncing cheeks or that pretty face, he might bust prematurely. Still, he paced himself..wanting to enjoy the experience and let this euphoric feeling take over each of you..and when you began to talk back, praising him for how well he was doing, he nearly lost all sense of composure! Clawing the satin sheets, (y/n) chewed into your lip in a half assed attempt to stifle moans but there was no helping it. You were way too stimulated right now. “Right there, ‘Ren…you’re hitting my spot, baby. Oh my God, I ain’t never been fucked like this.” Crying out with semi-rolled eyes and a quivering jaw..only worsened when he sped up, burrowing himself over your frame with harder thrusts and that thumb pad sinking further into your tight hole.

“Right here? That’s the spot, baby?”

“Yeah, daddy. You fucking me so good right now!”

getting an answer that would only further awaken his inner beast. A smirk suddenly curled across his lips as he became excited at the mention of the name; most certainly strengthening his ego. In and out at interchangeable speeds, you had begun to glaze him in a mixture of cream and silky warmth.

“Then nut all over this dick, baby. There you go..” guiding you by the cusp of your hip; pounding you relentlessly from that point because both ego and cock were inflated by your praise. And he could tell that when he cooed to you, massaging the curvature of your spine, calling you things like baby and pretty girl, that pussy clenched even tighter and gushed even more, almost as if on command. It was as if your bodies were perfectly and equally yoked..like two missing puzzle pieces finally being connected. It was a shame that either of you had waited so long, whether from fear of rejection or respect, to make a move. But you were glad that he had done so tonight. And the feeling was mutual.

“Look at how good you’re taking that dick…letting my shit stretch you like that. She’s so wet..and warm. You make me never wanna leave it.” Confessing in his pussy drunken stupor whilst bending over to kiss down the curvature of your spine. Which sent shutters throughout your entire body, especially when he glided his tongue across the same spot. Inadvertently switching you two to a sort of side fucking position in the process where he hoisted your leg up and told you to keep it there. But what truly made you tick was when he reached around to cup your breasts, gently pinching on your nipples and massaging. You were practically drooling, grinning with a fucked out expression on your face. “Can I stay in it, baby? Give you that dick you deserve all the time?…” sweetly questioning with the flick of his tongue dancing around your earlobe and neck. With the way he was making you feel? He was gonna have to move in now! He was the absolute perfect lover, maybe because he already knew you better than anyone else in this world and all that remained to be explored was your body, which he was willing to take all night and do. “…working so hard, handling your business and shit..and looking so fucking sexy when you do. That’s the type of shit to get you fucked on and spoiled with a real man..what you really need. You want better for yourself, don’t you, baby?” Sliding a thumb between your lips as he cooed softly. It was something about that balance between gentle and rough, that had you melting like putty between his fingertips. And when you begged him to take you; admitting that you were submitting yourself wholly to him, he didn’t disappoint. Knowing you were mere seconds from exploding in his grasp.

“Hnghh! Yes…this your pussy now, daddy. Keep fucking me just like that.”

admitting through trembling breaths as your climax was growing nearer. Feeling how close you were and becoming rather sensitive himself, Eren decided to turn your head to face him, pulling you both into a searing kiss as he reached down to lightly rub your clit. Balls smacking against your entrance and a puddle of frothy white bliss billowing down his shaft and from your tightness. Yet again, without missing a beat, he’d flip you over and fold those legs up, putting them behind your head. This time, with a little more aggression. Almost as if your submissiveness was causing him to become far more erratic. He’d start to huff, grunting as he grew closer to his peak. He’d pull out for only a split second, splattering you with a tiny trail of precum and your pretty liquids. You were trembling but he’d instruct you to hold them in place. “Don’t move, baby. Just stay there..you’re doing so good.”

and just like before, he’d resume drilling your shit and dicking you down.

“Gonna make you come f’r me, baby. Gonna make this pretty pussy come all over my dick. You better do it..wanna nut in it too. Fill you up and watch it drip out. Shit turns me on so much.” nearly desperate in his pleas but that’s what made them all the more attractive. Admittedly, he’d never came inside of a girl because half of them couldn’t be trusted but he loved the idea of his girl being bred by him and when you agreed, he was excited.. His thin gold necklace swaying against your face as it had done your back prior..his lips pressed to yours in a haze of slow, nasty kisses. The type that only could be shared between two people with intense passion… “look at me, pretty girl..” but the second he reached that core, pressing into the pit of your stomach and grazing your cervix, you’d fade out on him and Eren had to all but coax you back. Your nails clawing at his shoulder blades and eyes trailed back with nothing more than incoherent babble coming from your mouth..almost as if you were having an out of body experience. Doing so with some light slaps to your cheek!

“I said look at me. We’re coming together, okay? Same time, baby. Here, take my hands.” Ushering you to rest those legs atop his shoulders and clutch fingers so that he could guide you through that nut..talking you through it as a real man would.

“Good girl…just keep squeezing me. You’re right there, I can feel it.” Meanwhile, you were on the brink of tears from the immense pressure swelling inside of you. Tits bouncing, legs trembling and body a complete wreck of orgasmic bliss. “So count with me. On three, I want you to let go.” Nodding your head in response and he’d place a kiss to your forehead, brushing your thumb pad across his cheek. “Don’t hold back..” and with that, he’d start his countdown. Starting at one, it’d seem like an eternity but alas, you both hit that fateful number and it was as if fireworks exploded, your hearts thudded from your chest and the two of you saw heaven simultaneously. It was hands down the best orgasm either of you had ever felt!..made apparent by the loud, pathetic cries that escaped both of you along with your cum. You squirting all over his abs and him filling you with a long stream of nut. The warmth of being stuffed made it even better.

he was an absolute mess, tears coming down his face to match your own and the two of you just held one another close as you rode out those orgasms; immersed in an ecstasy filled haze. One that could only be found after true love making.

“Thank you, baby. Thank you so much for letting me fuck you like this. I needed that..” sticking his fingers into your mouth to suckle on as you grinned at one another as you basked in the afterglow. It was safe to say that neither you had plans to spin the block on any past partners nor leave this bed anytime soon.

“You know you’re stuck with me, right? Like I’m not letting you go..” admitting as you caressed the side of his cheek. You had nothing to worry about because it’d take something major to pry him away from the girl that he always knew he loved.

“I’ve been here all this time..nothing can separate us now.”

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