#not excited for the dishes but i Am excited for the mac n cheese and tea...

[orcelito]

Snowy boy

#speculation nation #cassy #cats #he looks so natural in front of snow #anyways yea it was snowing like all day yesterday lol #and i guess it got cold enough for it to stick overnight #....with a horrid layer of ice beneath it im sure #my attire for this occasion? short shorts n crop top sleep wear #starting to think i may need to transition over to warmer sleep wear soon lol #ANYWAYS time to listen to varien for however long it takes me to do some fucking dishes #and make. mac n cheese. and have a lil sippy sip of tea #not excited for the dishes but i Am excited for the mac n cheese and tea... #that is the psychology of it. mac n cheese reward. mmm

[lixzey]

Bf!Luke Castellan x Filipina child of Aphrodite!reader please? I haven't seen any of Filipina readers so I'm begging on my knees 🥺

In which she misses home terribly and decides to cook some of her fave food (preferably sinigang, adobo, or like something else! you can do some research, if you'd like 🫶🏻)

And she makes Luke try it! But he's so whiny bcs he hasn't even heard of the dish's name.

Anywaaay, I loved lovelorn!!! Waiting for the next update like 👀 Your writing is just so 🤌🏻 chef's kiss!!

late night cravings

summary: you miss home terribly, so you decide to cook your favorite ulam

warnings: filipina!reader x luke castellan! they're both 19 (set before tlt), they're like on vacation (luke and reader have an apartment in the east village, courtesy of reader’s dad who’s a filipino actor) away from camp duties for a while, swearing (both filipino and english), luke is a picky ass eater, making out, kinda suggestive content

a/n: i got so excited with this 😭 i'm a filipina and an aphrodite kid, so this was so fun to write! I hope you like it!

“What on earth are you cooking?” Luke asks, leaning against the kitchen door frame of the apartment the two of you own. “I woke up to the smell of that.” 

You immediately whip your head around to see your boyfriend, half naked and disheveled from sleep. “Well, hello to you too, sunshine,” You chuckle, blowing strands of your hair away from your face. 

“It's the middle of the night, princess, and you're cooking something that smells like vomit.” Luke grumbles as he makes his way towards you, still bleary eyed as he wraps his arms around your waist. 

“I just missed home,” You giggle, reaching to grab the tongs to flip over the daing na bangus so it doesn’t burn. “Something wrong, baby?”

“Yeah, it smells like shit.” Luke complains, burying his face in your neck. “It’s stinking up the whole place.”

“Don’t judge a book by its cover,” You chuckle, placing the tongs down on a plate, escaping Luke’s grasp and making your way to the kitchen island, leaning against it. “It’s good, I promise.”

Luke stares at the pan. “I am not eating that thing.” He then turns to you, his nose wrinkled in disgust. “Where’s the mac and cheese?”

“It’s just milkfish, dummy.” You roll your eyes at your boyfriend’s refusal to eat anything other than mac and cheese. “Also, you finished the last box of mac hours ago, remember?”

“Ramen?” Luke asks, hopeful that there’s still some left other than the fish that’s stinking up the whole apartment.

When you shook your head, literal fear crept onto his handsome face. “Anything else?” He asks, his voice cracking like a teenaged boy going through puberty for the first time, making you burst into a fit of giggles.

“There’s nothing left, you’ve finished everything.” You say through fits of laughter at your boyfriend’s food crisis. “Guess you’ll have to deal with the food I’m gonna cook.”

Luke’s eyes comically widen, like one of those cartoon characters you’ve watched when you were a kid. “There’s more?”

“Yeah,” You nod, jerking your head to the refrigerator littered with lots of printed photos of the dates you and Luke went on over the years you’ve been together. “I marinated some pork for adobo.”

“Ado-what?”

“Adobo, it’s a Filipino staple.” You answer with a chuckle. “It’s pork marinated in vinegar, soy sauce, and some garlic. I added some peppercorns too. My lola used to cook it for me when I was a kid.”

Luke makes his way to you, his large hands creeping onto your waist, lifting you up onto the counter. “As much as you love it, princess, I’m not eating any of it.”

“And why not?” You scoff, raising a brow at him.

“I don’t like it, that’s why.” Luke insists, kissing your forehead. “I’m gonna go and get some real food.”

You sigh, annoyed by your boyfriend’s pickiness in food. For as long as you’ve known him, he’s been choosing what he eats like a child. It was always mac and cheese, chicken, pizza, and burgers. It was a struggle to feed him, honestly. Since he won’t eat anything apart from what he’s used to. Luke was lucky that the dryads serve mac almost with every meal—which is mostly for the kids or a side dish. You’ve tried to incorporate vegetables in his meals but somehow he always notices. It was infuriating, to the point that you just wanted to shove a broccoli floret down his throat.

All of a sudden, the smell of burning infiltrates your sense of smell, triggering the fire alarms simultaneously.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” You frantically mutter, jumping off the kitchen island and running to the burning bangus on the stove. You grab the pan, forgetting it was on the fire for minutes on end. “Putangina!” You swear, abruptly pulling your hand off the pan’s handle.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, here,” Luke grabs the pan with oven mitts, placing it on the counter.

You sigh as you stare at the burnt fish, hearing the pan hiss against the cold surface.

Luke, being the best boyfriend that he is, pulls you in a tight hug, his body heat engulfing you. “It’s okay, princess. It was an accident.”

“I’ve been craving that,” You mumble against his chest. “Stupid fire.”

“You still have the first one you cooked,” Luke points out. “That’s gotta count for something, right?”

You raise your head, meeting his eyes. “Yeah, I guess.” you mumble, lower lip out in a pout.

“Don’t be sad over a burnt fish, alright?”

You glare at him, pinching his side. “It was a tasty fish.”

“Geez, princess,” Luke scowls playfully. “A fish is more important than me?”

“Shut up,” You hiss, rolling your eyes. “I paid five bucks for that.”

Luke raises a brow at you. “When did you even get time to get them?”

“You sleep like a lamb, baby,” You chuckle, turning to walk to the refrigerator. “I went to a Filipino store.”

“There’s one in New York?” Luke asks, brows furrowed in confusion. “I thought you said there weren’t any?”

“That was years ago, dummy.” You snort, grabbing the refrigerator handle, opening it. “Anyway, look what I got.”

An array of Filipino snacks filled the middle shelf of the fridge. You had gone all out. It wasn’t often that you splurge on food, but when a craving hits, it hits.

There were some Choco Mallows—chocolate covered marshmallows—your favorite treat as a child that your lola always bought for you. A jar of ube macapuno that you hated as a child but learned to love just recently. Some dried mangoes, pastillas, a jar of wafer sticks—stik o—a slice of brazo de mercedes, and many more.

“How the hell are you even gonna finish all of that?”

You shake your head, smirking. “You and I are gonna eat each and every item that I bought.”

Luke scowls, folding his toned arms over his chest. “I don’t want to.”

“Don’t give me that shit, Castellan,” You say, placing your hands on your hips. “You are going to eat whatever I serve you.”

Luke pouts, pairing it off with puppy dog eyes. “Please?”

“Nope.”

“That smells like vomit,” Luke complains as you seared the marinated pork for adobo. “And it looks like it too!”

“Quit it,” You say with a murderous glare. “Don’t yap at it until you’ve tasted it.”

“I think I’m going to puke all my guts out,” Luke gags, making his way to the sink.

“For the love of the gods,” You groan, fighting the urge to roll your eyes at his childishness. It was just food, and he’s whining about it like there’s no tomorrow.

You turn your attention away from your picky eater of a boyfriend and back to the pan with the pork searing brown nicely. You then grab the remaining liquid from the marinade—which was not much, which it would have to do—pouring it in, causing the pan to hiss at the difference in temperature. You turn the stove down to medium high heat, before leaving it to simmer.

Much to Luke’s misery.

“You aren’t covering it?” Luke asks incredulously. “It’s smelling the place worse than the fish did!”

“Don’t be such a drama queen, Luke.” You sigh, grabbing a pouch of dried mangoes before taking a seat on one of the bar stools over the kitchen island. “It’s gonna taste good, I promise.”

“Ugh,” Luke wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Gag me.”

“Nah, you’d like it too much.” You giggle, popping a slice of dried mango in your mouth.

Luke scoffs playfully. “Damn right I will, princess.”

“Then stop whining,”

“You love me,” Luke grins as he walks towards you, capturing your lips in his, his hand cupping your face.

You hum as your lips mold with his, your shoulders relaxing as he kisses you.

You pull away from the kiss, pushing him slightly. “You’re distracting me, Castellan,” you sigh dreamily, a soft blush covering your cheeks as your boyfriend looks at you like you’re the only thing in this world.

Luke leans in, his lips brushing against your lips as he trails towards your ear. “Is it working?” he whispers, his breath hot on your skin.

“Luke,” You murmur, placing your hand on his chest. “Stop, I don’t want to burn the adobo.”

Luke chuckles, his fingers tangling with the ends of your hair. “Alright, but later?”

You roll your eyes playfully. “If you promise to taste the adobo and bangus,” You smirk at him, pushing him slightly away from your body as you stand up. “Maybe I’ll let it happen, you know? On this counter.”

“Do I really have to?”

“If you want to bend me over this counter, yes.”

Luke sighs as he reluctantly nods. “Fine, I’ll taste them.”

“That’s a good boy,” You coo, reaching up to pat his cheek. “Go and sit,” you jerk your head towards the bar stool you just stood up from. “It’ll be ready in a few.”

Luke obliges, sitting on the stool with his arms crossed over the other. He grins at you, a mischievous look you know oh so well in his beautiful browns. 

Luke was teasing you, the little shit.

You chuckle, shaking your head, before turning to make your way to the stove, swaying your hips as you did—earning a small grunt from Luke behind you.

As you check up on the adobo, you see that almost half of the liquids have evaporated, leaving you with a slightly oily adobo—just the way you liked it. You turned down the heat, grabbing a fork from the silverware drawer to check if the pork was tender.

You poke the fork through the meat effortlessly, making you smile. The perfect adobo.

You quickly grab a plate and load it up with the delicious ulam you’ve grown up with, hoping Luke would appreciate it as much as you did.

“Here it is,” You excitedly announce, serving the adobo with a spoon and fork in front of him with a proud smile etched on your lips. “It’s better with rice, but it’s good on its own too.”

Luke stares at the meat in front of him, as if the adobo was going to attack him if he wasn’t vigilant enough. “Is it supposed to look like that?”

You raise a brow at him. “Like what?”

“Like it’s burnt,”

You sigh, taking a seat beside him. “It’s supposed to look like that, but it isn’t burnt. It’s because of the searing, plus the soy sauce the pork has already absorbed.” You grab the utensils, shoveling a healthy amount of meat and sauce on the spoon using the fork. “Open wide, baby!”

Luke shook his head. “I think I’m okay.”

“Luke,” You growl, raising the adobo filled spoon up to his mouth. “Open your fucking mouth before I shove this spoon down your throat forcibly.”

Luke raises his hands in defeat. “Alright, alright, geez,” he chuckles, opening his mouth up. “Be gentle with me, princess.”

You glare at him before pushing the spoon inside of his mouth. “If you spit that out, you’re sleeping on the damn floor.”

Luke chews the contents of his mouth, his eyes widening. “Fuck, this is good!” He grins as he pulls the plate in front of him and immediately takes another spoonful. “Mhmm, that hits the spot!” Luke says through a mouth full of the savory pork dish you cooked. 

“Good, baby?” You giggle, reaching to grab the fork from him to get a bite of your masterpiece. “Don’t finish it all, save some for me!”

“Losers, weepeers, baby,” Luke mumbles through bites. “You sure you didn’t use any love magic on this?”

You recoil, slapping his arm playfully. “I did not use gayuma, Castellan.” 

“Gayuma?”

“It’s love magic, in Filipino,” You answer, taking another bite of your food. “I have got to teach you more Filipino words.” 

“I’m in love with this—what is it called again?”

“Adobo,” You laugh, taking a bite of the said ulam. “Pork adobo.”

“Pork adobo, I love you!” Luke grins, like it’s the first time he’s ever tried food in eons.

You smile lovingly at your boy, looking all so happy and content. You could spend eternities just staring at him. Seeing Luke happy made you feel complete, like you’ve fulfilled a quest greater than anything the gods could dish out.

You could see a future with the man in front of you. You’ve honestly got nothing figured out, but Luke? He was the only thing you’ve got right in your life. You could see him, being the man you’d marry and spend the rest of your life with. You could see him being the father of your children, a little Luke and a little version of you, running around the front yard while you and Luke watch on the front porch with a multitude of toys sprawled around.

You fell in love with a careless god’s careful son, and he is the best thing that’s ever been yours.

“Princess,” You hear Luke call out to you, snapping you out of your daydreams. You look up, meeting his loving gaze, making your cheeks burn. Gods, it’s not fair of him to make me feel this much. 

“Yeah?” You hum, moving your chair closer to him, smiling as you did. “What is it?”

Luke cups your face in his large hands, pulling you in close, barely an inch apart. “I love you.” 

Your heart beats rapidly inside your rib cage, wondering how on earth does he manage to still make you feel like that giddy teenager who fell in love with him years ago. 

You stare in his eyes for what felt like eons. You could feel Luke’s breath hot on your lips, begging you to seal it inside of him with a kiss.

You let out a shaky breath, a small smile curling onto your lips. “I love you too, baby.” you whisper, before closing in the distance between the two of you.

Luke’s hands make their way down to your waist, pulling you onto his lap, making you gasp. He takes advantage of your lips parting, sliding his tongue in, eager to taste you—even though he’s done it more times than he could count.

His lips were soft, like a cloud grazing yours. He tasted sweet, like cotton candy, but with a hint of smoke and citrus playing at your taste buds. You should have been used to it by now, being in a relationship with Luke for almost three years and all. But his touch numbs you. His touch is like being dipped into the cold ocean, pulling you in—drowning you, until he’s bruised into your mind. 

Your hands creep around the nape of his neck, deepening the kiss—if it was even possible given the state of your tongues clashing with one another, fighting to assert dominance. You bite Luke’s lower lip, causing a groan to escape his mouth. You feel this familiar heat pool inside your belly, along with something hard poking your ass.

You pull away from the kiss, lips swollen as you catch your breath. Before you could utter a word, Luke lifts you up on the counter, making you erupt in a fit of giggles. He then presses his forehead against yours, you could hear his slow breaths as your noses bump into each other. 

“So, you lettin’ it happen, huh, princess?”

“You didn’t try the other one,” You feign annoyance, unable to hide the small smile tugging at your lips.

“Can’t make an exception for me, princess?” Luke smirks, his fingers delicately brushing against your arms.

“I think I can squeeze you in,” You chuckle, pulling away from him with a teasing grin. “You good with that, mister?”

“I’ll take anything as long as it’s with you.” Luke grabs your waist, pulling you back close to him. “Gods, you are so beautiful.” he whispers, his hand cupping your face.

“I love you,” You murmur, placing your hand on his chest, on the place where his heart rests. “More than anything.”

“You are the best thing in my life.” Luke sighs before leaning in to kiss you again like his life depended on it, wrapping his arms around you like a vice. You run your fingers through his hair, pulling and tugging on his curls as if he was your lifeline.

Luke’s hands fumble with the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head, momentarily breaking the kiss. He quickly reaches behind, unclasping your bra in one swift movement, tearing the offending fabric off of your breasts.

Luke takes his time to admire your body, as if it was the very first time he’d even seen your breasts out on full display for him, just for him. His cock strained painfully inside of his shorts and boxers, causing a groan to escape his throat. “You see what you do to me, princess?”

You look at him with innocence in your eyes, which at the same time looks sultry and inviting, driving him crazy every time you do. “Who, me?”

“Aren’t you just a little vixen?”

“So, to the room?”

Luke shakes his head, moving towards you, his hands just below your breasts as he smirks. “Here, over the fucking counter.”

tags: @lilmaymayy @ma1dita @sc4rl3ttdafoxx @hottiewifeyyyy

#luke castellan x filipina!reader #luke castellan oneshot #luke castellan fanfiction #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x reader fanfic #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x filipina!aphrodite reader #luke castellan story #luke castellan #pjo luke #lukecastellan #one shot #luke castellan pjo #pjo luke castellan #luke pjo #aphrodite reader #filipina reader #luke castellan x aphrodite!reader #luke castellan smut #el's writing 💘

[room-of-torture]

Think you’re the first? (Part 2)

“Do not forget little brother that I can still kick yer ass.” Raphael remarked while his large, muscular arm was wrapped around Mikey’s neck. Head locking him as they walked together.

Mikey struggled but elbowed his brother to let him go. Chuckling with a lopsided grin. “And don’t YOU forget big bro, that I am the fastest one in the group an’ I can still get away from your headlock!!” He stepped on Raphael’s foot, making his brother loosen his grip to help him slip out.

Raph grunted but grinned that his little brother managed to escape. “Bitch.”

“You the bitc-”

“Goodmorning Gentlemen”

Sam interrupted calmly with a deadpan expression. As she usually did since this brotherly interaction was nothing new to her, especially from Michaelangelo and Raphael. Infact, at times their relationship reminded her much of her own interactions with her and her own brothers. Insults and roughhousing.

It was all in good fun and never nothing personal.

The two quickly straighten up at being surprised by Sam’s sudden presence. Mostly Mikey did, as the familiar voice made the orange masked turtle perk up with excitement. Getting to see her out of her stuffy office “And a very Goodmorning to you too Sammy!” He said brightly. His voice might’ve been higher then how he wanted it to be so he quickly coughed to clear his throat. Deepening his voice on purpose. “I mean, Goodmorning Sam.”

Sam couldn’t help but raise a brow and smile at Mikey.

While Raphael rolled his eyes but quickly smiled at his younger brother’s attempt to hide his excitement at seeing Sam. Knowing 1000% the bozo had been thinking about her all morning.

Turning his attention back on the said tall brunette, Raph raised his head in a nod. “Yo”

Sam glanced over to the red wearing turtle and bowed her head to return said greeting. Looking down at the folder she held in her hand and flipping it open. “As you know-we are having a small dinner party with a few important guests later this week. Me and Gabriel convinced my Uncle to add some of your and your brothers’s favorite dished to the menu so we can accommodate everyone’s tastes.”

The tall woman pulled a pen out that was slipped into her dress shirt pocket and scribbled something in the folder she held. “I want you boys to be comfortable and not deal with food you dislike while having this important meeting. That would be unfair, wouldn’t it?”

“Coo. Ya know tha deal, Boss. You n’ Gabe already know what I like n’ how I like it.” Raph nodded in agreement. “…Thanks.” One of the few times he agreed with Sam, was when she considered his and his brother’s wants and needs as well. Not leaving anyone out, nor focusing on just one person to kiss ass to. Actually, she didn’t kiss anyone’s ass for that matter nor did she treat others differently based on status and that was something he quietly respected of her.

He couldn’t say the same to Ol’ Headass. He didn’t give fuck about him and his brothers. He treated them as they were beneath him always even if the old fuck said out loud that he “Cared for them”. No, he didn’t. It was always just business, money and power with that asshole.

Sam nodded and wrote in Raph’s Skillet Garlic butter steak and shrimp usual on a side sheet. “Very well.” Pointing the end side of her pen towards Mikey. “The usual for you as well Michelangelo? Honey bbq Baby back ribs with a side of crab mac and cheese?” Her brown eyes raised from her folder to look at the turtle for his answer.

Noting the soft and warm look in his eyes as he stared at her. The brunette immediately averted her gaze and ignored the heat that colored her cheeks lightly to try and focus on her task.

Mikey noticed this and his smile grew more. Taking a step closer to Sam as he leaned forward. “You got it.” He did a look around them to make sure the coast was clear before giving the brunette a quick wink. “You know us best, Boss! You know exactly what I like in my mouth…I can’t wait.” A slow grin spread across his lips.

“…Right.” Sam cleared her throat as she did her best not to out loud react to the turtle’s bold flirting. Glaring at him at bit as he quietly chuckled.

Though Mikey and her had a hidden relationship, there were times where this asshat could slip in a tease or two when out of public. They always caught her off guard when she didn’t expect them.

Sam finished writing in their dish preferences and shut the folder closed. Settling it under her arm at her side before bowing her head once more towards the turtles. “Thank you, I will let Gabriel know right away.” She said with a straight expression.

After the large terrapin’s said their Thanks once more, the brunette walked around the behemoth turtles and began to walk away. Remembering something she immediately stopped in her tracks. Clearing her throat once more. “Pussy whisperer, hm?”

The two mutant brothers froze in place from taking another step. Taking a moment to let sink in what Sam said, Raphael was the first to glance back with a surprised look on his face. Quickly hiding it with a fake confused expression since the brunette kept her back to them. “Wha? What tha fuck is th-“

“A feral cat, eh?” Sam once again interrupted. The corners of her lips perked up as they curved into a smile and she kept her dark eyes forward towards the hallway. Moving her head side to side, in a way agreeing with half that statement. “Feral…I suppose yes but, cat? I’m not sure about that one, boys.”

Raph and Mikey were silent now. The smiles they had were long gone now. Mikey’s eyes were wide when he realized that Sam somehow had heard that conversation he and Raph had from a few days ago….They were in trouble weren’t they?

Oh shit.

Michaelangelo slowly turned to look back at Sam who stood not too far from them. Not looking directly at them as she spoke. His Sam, the oddly calm one who hardly reacted to things but when she was mad she didn’t hold her tongue back.

Boy, she really waited when it was just the two of them and her to strike. Took her time and was oddly calm with it. She was beautiful as she was scary!

Sam brushed long strands of her dark, almost black, hair from her face and moved them behind her ear. “I’ve been here longer before you boys were brought here. You aren’t the first to have been around with…the women around here.” She finally turned slightly to the side and gave them a sharp glance. Smile still present. “I may not be the last but-“ The brunette’s eyes narrowed when her smile grew. “-you certainly aren’t the first.”

Turning a little more to face the turtles, she was quietly amused by their wide eyed stares. Mostly by Michelangelo’s, whom is quick witted and was all flirtatious just a minute ago.

Fascinating what few words can shift someone’s mood real quick.

Thinking of her words carefully and licking her dry lips. “Listen closely from someone with better experience with Satisfying women…Just words alone won’t please and make a ‘feral pussy’ happy-Actions do. So shut your yaps y pongase a trabajar. Especialmente esa boca tuya, como me dijiste tortuga.” Her eyes glanced towards Michelangelo and this time, she was the one to give him a wink.

The brunette hummed smoothly before turning back to the direction she was heading and walked away. Making a bit of a show by swaying her hips, mainly for Mikey’s eyes only, until she was out of sight.

Time to tell the girls. Sam chuckled to herself.

Mikey blinked a few times as he repeated Sam’s words over and over in his head. Though she went after the both of them, those last words were directly thrown at him. God that smile of hers…that wink she threw back him and the fucking sway of her hips could’ve had him running and pouncing her if they weren’t out in public eye.

Raphael had also watched the tall woman walked away out of view before glancing slowly over to his brother. A grin appeared on his scar lips as he nuged him with a elbow. “Luckily she didn’t cut our dicks off but-“ He glanced toward the hallway again while rubbing his chin. “-it seems like we got our work cut out fer us, Mike. She told us ta get better or shut up.” He laughed once more.

At times he forgot Sam was here before them. Some of the women he himself has been with has spoken their experiences with her and they were never bad ones. Some says she was very disrespectful-but in a very pleasant way.

Well excuse the fuck out of him and excuse her for jabbing at him like that. He knew his shit too. The fuck!

Fully turning to Mikey whom was still frozen in place and nudged him once more. Trying to snap him out of his trance. “Translate fer me romeo, I got the first sentence as ‘get down to work’ but what did she say in tha second?” Raphael asked curiously.

Almost forgetting his older brother was next to him for a moment. Michelangelo swallowed thickly before parting his lips. “She said…’Especially that mouth of yours, as you said to me.’” He answered, not removing his eyes from the now empty hallway. He was about ready to lock himself in his room for the rest of the day.

He needed some privacy asap!

Raph let out a laugh while patting his baby brother’s shell. He was throughly amused by the whole situation now that it ended. Truthfully he wasn’t scared of what would’ve happened to him if he was in trouble. More like, sucks we got caught but it’s whatever type of situation.

But the larger terrapin couldn’t help but be tickled at his younger brother’s position. Not a scent of worry now but something devilish replaced it. Boy was horny now! HA! Who was horn-dog now, bozo! “Best cool it off first before ya rub one off, bro.” He chuckled.

Mikey groaned before rubbing his hands over his face. “Broooo, shut uuuup.” He muffled out a whine, embarrassed that his brother knew. Damn our fucking strong mutant sniffers!

End.

#Part two #Part two of the Pussy Whisperer lmao #Sam has eyes and ears everywhere #she ain’t here to play #ROT!Sam #ROT!Raphael #ROT!Michelangelo

[jotatetsuken]

hey hun!!! congrats on ur tumblrversery and ofc happy birthday to nanami!! hehe. could I rq a thingy for "Young and Beautiful (Selfship Scenarios)", with me and Rintaro Suna- my pronouns are they/them and my go to dish would prolly be seafood mac n' cheese!!

Young and Beautiful (Selfship Scenarios): Let's say Nanami and I go on a double date with you and your f/o (and if you mention Nanami as well, I'll dress them differently just to make sure I recognize them hehe). Send me your pronouns, your go-to dish in a restaurant, and your selfship, and I'll tell you how we as a group would interact <33

Bunny, heyy!! Thank you so so much <333 I guess this is the first time we are interacting and I am so so excited for this!!! And oooh! Suna! :D Let's gooooooo. Btw, Suna and Nanami have similar MBTIs (ISTP/ISTJ)

Kento Nanami Birthday Special

It’s to be noted that Kento’s a beach person, he loves seafood, and most of all he loves to be left alone. However, when I suggested that the four of us go to the beach, have fun, and then dine at a seafood spot, he couldn’t really say no.

When we all met at the beach, and while the two of us spent some time in the water, Kento and Rintaro were found relaxing on those lawn chairs. While the former was reading a book, the latter was looking into some funny reels, earning a long-drawn sigh from Kento.

As we were coming back to our men, a couple of boys started catcalling and flirting with us, causing both of them to feel irate, and walk toward the boys. As Kento verbally talked them down, Rintaro recorded their anxious reactions on the phone, and the moment the boys claimed that that was a prank, Kento ran after them, with Rintaro following them, with us laughing over the whole situation.

As we started dining together, I then noticed our men somehow bonding over the incident, and this elevated our conversations, causing Rintaro to talk about his career in volleyball, and how Kento actually reminds him of his high-school team captain, Shinsuke Kita, making Rintaro to find Kento unapproachable, but he then agreed that this was a wonderful trip and that we needed to do this again.

#aisha’s nanami birthday special #kento nanami #nanami kento #suna rintaro #rintaro suna #selfship scenarios #self shipping #i thought of my trip to galveston as i was writing this so this was fun hehe :D #would love to interact with you more <33

[tekni-kali]

Day 29

10:32p, Saturday, May 27, 2023

Today was chock full of good tunes and good wavelengths. I spent a great portion of the day horizontal on the couch, farming in the Valley, and e joying the music. Genres ranged everywhere from Song of the day:

To the energetic "well I wasn't expecting that".:

Round about the time Behb was getting off I'd finally gathered enough energies for a bit of productivity, but what I thought would only be me congratulating myself for hanging up the shirts finally.... Turned out to be a full on laundry list of chores completed! Including retuning tjr clothes to their home... The catbox got cleaned, dishes were washed, TV table (and TV) were dusted and wiped down and I cleared the space in front of it so it's not quite so 😬 everytime I glance over at it, fed myself, showered, hooked the lava lamp up to the final smart plug, babysat Sampson, and even cleaned out a couple doom boxes!

We delayed shopping until tomorrow in favor of his brother coming to hang out. We're all caught up on that unicorn show... I can't for the life of me remember what it's called but it's good, it's on Max,Rainbow Unicorn something or other...

I mostly just farmed away while they played Cod..

oo! Tawd Dammit is live! He always plays excellent stuff...

Bit nnewai... Ye... Shopping tomorrow x2 as I've been invited to a BBQ! it'll be a party of two, and I'm 100% perfectly okay with that. I'm responsible for bringing the main course! Those fat sausage bratwursts (hey I remembered!) and buns! Then we will grill them and serve with sides of Mac n cheese n baked beans! For this, I am excited! I spose this also means I shouldn't stay up til beyond past bedtime two nights in a row then.

Kinda why I started the post so early ;) The streak lives! I think there getting easier to do... More fluid, less mechanical.... I have somewhat of a rhythm and not too much anxiety hindering the actions needed to see it through. I won't put too much pressure on myself, but coming up on a month sinc ei started it...and I'm still doing it.... So... That's gotta count for sumthin.... Right?

Newai, Gonna go vibe to Tawd and see how long it takes my pond to finish getting built...

Catch ya later!

-11:50p

P. S. I hate proofing on my phone... So... Hopefully the typos weren't too painful 💛💛

#Day 29 #Personal #Log #Spotify

[the-nomadic-nerd]

I have been watching Nailed It! and really wanted to have some cake. I decide to make some against my better judgement. Why against my better judgement? Fucked Up Oven. This oven can't oven and it's really frustrating. The knob of the settings dial broke off so it's stuck on one setting. What setting? Who knows, the paint on the dials have long faded away. To add to this, I'm broke and the craving for cake was hitting like a truck. When I'm broke I crave shit that costs money. It's unfortunate. So I really want this cake. My girlfriend, being the darling that she is, hooked me up with some cake mix. Plain Vanilla. It's perfect. It can taste one way and that is comforting. I mix the ingredients, I have just the right amount of milk. My last milk. No coffee tomorrow morning. The batter looks good. I grease the fuck out of my baking dish so my cake won't stick. The cake mix came with icing. I'm excited. The baking dish is greased and filled with basic ass, delicious smelling vanilla. I put the oven on the same setting I would for Mac n Cheese. I'm confident. The cake goes in. I set a timer and go to my room to watch Nailed it. I'm thinking I'll probably finish an episode and my cake will be done. (I am deeply mistaken). Something tells me to check on the cake. (Hindsight gratitude activated). I check the cake. The top is black. Burnt. Roasted. Grilled.

I laugh. I laugh and laugh and laugh. I'm not surprised but I feel my heart squeeze. No cake (sad). I make a plan. I scrape off the top, happy to have most of my cake. I am once again mistaken. The cake is liquid in the middle. Lava cake. But raw lava cake. Not good. I laugh more. I send pictures to my girlfriend. She's dying. I am still determined to have cake and I didn't just spend my last mils of milk on this flop. I must have cake. For the ingredients we lost along the way. I scrape off the cooked top and let the raw batter stay. I look at the oven. It's a mess. Rusted. Dusty. Crusty. Musty. I lower the temperature and think, fuck it, slow bake. I leave it in for 2 minutes, the cake is done. It's. .....a bumpy landscape of burnt edges and barely there mounds of cake. The cake is cooked though. All the way through. My hope is restored. I rush the cake to my room, placing it on a board. I can't wait. I burn my tongue on hot cake. It honestly tastes good. The vanilla does her thing. I try to cut pieces to eat but I'm just scraping the bottom really. I got cake. The ingredients lost have been avenged. I am at peace.

Now I want Mac n Cheese. Fuck.

#cooking #baking #nailed it! #cake #desserts #vanilla #this was a time #can't wait to noy be broke

[sunnyxnala]

Thursday, 10/20/22

9am - I woke up to turn off my alarm to see that my desk was a mess because my roommate kicked her pillow off her lofted bed and it came crashing down onto my desk. I looked at the scene, processed it, and decided to go back to sleep and restart the beginning of my day

2pm - I… fell asleep for a bit longer than I anticipated 💀 I quickly washed up, did my eyeliner, packed my bag, and headed out to sproul to get spam musubi from Yuna’s bob. I did some work in sproul while eating my spam musubi, picked up a package after I finished lunch, and then headed back to my dorm

4pm - I opened the package, and they were boots! My aunt sent them to me as a late birthday gift. They fit perfectly and I love them :) I’ve been wanting combat boots for the longest time so I’m so happy I have a pair now

5pm - I was working in my dorm when my roommate started watching me again… so I left and went to my boyfriend’s dorm to continue my work. I’m so happy that his roommates are friends w me and like me bc I feel so bad being in his dorm so often T_T but anyways boybae played valorant as I worked and then I took a nap

7pm - I woke up startled bc I didn’t remember falling asleep. I packed my bag and went to epicuria with my boyfriend and his friends from the valorant team, dinner was mid. I ate pasta, pizza, pork, and a Mac n cheese dish.

9pm - I joined a meeting that went over some project ideas and podcast assignments, im pretty excited to start it

10pm - I met up with a random person who follows me on Instagram to learn how to do a backflip o-o long story short, one of my friends cleared my bingo fundraising card and told me that he wanted me to do a backflip in return. I reposted his donation, joking that I’ll figure out that backflip, when all of a sudden I get a message from a person saying that he can teach me how to backflip during open gym in wooden! So I was like, “okie why not!” And I ended up meeting this random person who taught me how to backflip. I am still working on landing beautifully, but I would say we made great progress

Overall, today was an 8/10!

Xoxo nala

[forasecondtherewedwon]

An All-American January Christmas

Fandom: Hawkeye Pairing: Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova Rating: T Word Count: 4591

Summary: Kate takes Yelena on the ultimate Christmas adventure: grocery shopping.

“I know your full name. Your GPA. I know your favourite grocery store,” Yelena lists off, grumbling. “I did not expect that last one to become relevant.”

Kate turns and beams back at her, unaffected by her companion’s apparent misery or the strobing line of fluorescents lighting this aisle.

“Aw, come on,” Kate says. “Grocery shopping’s the best! In some ways, it’s the most fun part of the holidays.”

Yelena looks frankly angry that she would make such an assertion, so Kate hastily elaborates: “You get to pick all the food you’re going to feast on. It’s whatever you want. It’s amazing. You should be totally into this.”

“It’s hardly the Empire State Building,” Yelena mumbles. Her forearms are already resting on the shopping cart’s handle, but she lowers her chin onto the back of her hand, moping.

“Yeah, but you’ve been here three weeks now. You’ve done that stuff.”

Kate finds the boxed mac ’n’ cheese they both prefer and shakes it enticingly before dropping it into their cart. Yelena’s expression doesn’t change.

“If you think this is an incredible addition to my sightseeing tour, I must disappoint you.”

“Ah. You won’t be saying that once we get a-cookin’!”

“I don’t cook.”

“Then how do you eat?”

“I order take-out, duh. Or sometimes I kill someone who has just finished preparing their dinner, and I eat that.”

Kate frowns.

“That’s not funny.”

“It’s a little bit funny,” Yelena says. “Not as funny as you, but hey, I try, you know?”

“You made mac ’n’ cheese,” Kate counters, slightly flustered by the compliment as she leads Yelena to the end of the aisle and around to the next one.

“The instructions are on the box.”

“You added hot sauce though!” She snaps her fingers and points at Yelena, excited by her own airtight argument. “That’s cooking!”

“I am beginning to think you had an upbringing as detached from reality as mine was.”

“Yeah, well.”

Kate pauses, perusing a row of cans. In the brief time she’s know the Black Widow, she’s seen Yelena scrape a pot/plate/bowl clean, grating metal on metal to get the last noodle with a fork, the last puddle of soup with a spoon. She’s seen Yelena get in there with her tongue to lick off whatever was left when cutlery failed her. (Kate had swallowed thickly and felt her brain disappear in a puff of smoke, staring at her dumbly until Yelena had brought her out of it with a defensively snapped, “What? It’s good!”)

She grabs one can—two, in case this dish goes over well.

“I grew up privileged—as my mother loves to remind me—and that always messes you up. Although I think having my family torn apart by an alien invasion left its mark too.”

“Hey,” Yelena says, softer and less snarky than she’s been since they walked through the grocery store’s automatic doors. “Cheers to a fucked-up childhood.”

She takes one of the cans and taps it against the other, still in Kate’s hand. A sideways smile creeps up Kate’s face.

“Cheers to having overdeveloped combat skills while lacking the fundamentals,” she offers in return.

“Ваше здоровье.” Yelena rotates the can in her hand. “What is this, by the way?”

“Cranberries.”

“Cranberries are fruit.”

“Yeah, but we don’t need them to be fruit,” Kate explains, “we need them to be sauce.”

“Can you not make the sauce out of the fruit?”

“Me? Like, personally? I dunno, maybe. I’ve never tried. But the great thing is that canned cranberry sauce not only exists but it exists as a festive norm, present on most Christmas dinner tables.”

Yelena’s face says she’s having her doubts.

“Also,” Kate says, “they’re totally jellified in there; they make a gross sluuuurp noise when they plop out of the can.”

“Ok, that sounds pretty great.”

“Oh, it’s fantastic. You’re gonna love it.”

Kate strides to the end of the aisle, heading for the bakery section. Their cart has an unfortunate wheel that squeals and spins around, and when she doesn’t hear it immediately, she turns back. Yelena’s been dragging her feet since they came in here!

“What’s the deal? I thought you were enjoying this now.”

“You’re making me push the cart,” Yelena pouts.

“Pushing the cart is the most important job,” Kate says soothingly.

“Do not patronize. I am still a deadly assassin.”

There’s a gasp and the two of them turn to watch a young boy slowly back away from the boxed Danishes he was approaching.

Yelena jerks her chin at the kid in acknowledgement and offers an intimidatingly unsmiling, “Hey. Happy holidays.”

The boy flees.

“Yeah,” Yelena explains, “I’m not that good with children. I stopped in at my friend’s house, Ana, and she says her family is so great, you know? Her daughter is so friendly and curious and she is so proud. But when I am there, her daughter is just staring at me, so rude.”

“And what were you doing while she was staring?” Kate asked, trying not to sound too amused.

“Eating a muffin.”

“Just eating a muffin?”

“With a knife.”

A laugh bursts from Kate.

“You ate a muffin with a knife and fork? Cut it up? That’s hilarious!”

“No,” Yelena corrects, “no fork. Just the knife.”

She mimes impaling the muffin. She chews the air around her imaginary knife. To Kate, Yelena looks like a lion chomping on a corncob. She can understand a small child being ever-so-slightly taken aback by that kind of display.

“Oh, so like a total psycho then,” Kate says lightly.

“What?” Yelena whines. “You stab it and pick it up. It’s the easiest way to eat the bottom first and save the crunchy top part for last.”

Kate laughs.

“I guess you’re right.”

“I am right,” she hears Yelena say under her breath.

The cart is still slow to follow, so Kate stops a second time.

“Why are you so bummed about pushing the cart?” she demands.

Yelena’s relaxed mouth tightens and her jaw juts out.

“Just tell me,” Kate pushes.

“I want to sit in it.”

“In the cart?”

“I remember going to get the groceries with my mama sometimes, in the afternoon, before Natasha came home from school. Mama would push and I would… I would ride in the cart,” Yelena finishes defiantly, bracing for criticism, Kate assumes by her posture. “Happy memory.”

“Well, get in then,” Kate invites.

Yelena leans away from her as she takes the cart’s handle.

“What?”

“Get in.”

Kate sees the smile Yelena swiftly suppresses. What a dork. As if Kate cares whether she’s pushing the cart or hopping over the side to sit inside it, crossing her legs to fit. Yelena gathers her braid in her hand so it won’t get caught in the folding child seat. She twists and glances up at Kate, giving her a tough look.

“Still deadly assassin.”

“Of course,” Kate agrees, nodding solemnly. She has to give the cart an extra push to get it rolling now that Yelena’s sitting in it.

“Don’t act like I’m too heavy to push,” Yelena directs.

“All you had to push were cranberries and mac ’n’ cheese.”

“Pushing me is good for you. Leg workout. Good for thighs.”

Kate snorts and wheels them up to the rack of reduced-price baked goods. She starts picking through, shifting boxes of donuts and pies, searching for a suitable loaf.

“Aren’t you rich?” Yelena bluntly inquires, watching Kate choose. “Why are you buying old bread?”

Kate smiles.

“It needs to be stale for the dressing.”

“Dressing?”

“The part you shove inside the turkey. With, like, onions, and celery, and mushrooms, and cranberries sometimes—”

“OH!” Yelena shouts. “The stuffing! Yes, I remember this.”

“It’s also called dressing,” Kate says.

“I would know what you’re talking about if you used right word.”

“Uhhh, both words are used pretty commonly.”

“I am remembering more things all the time. I’m going to be a better American than you so soon.”

“Yeah, alright.” Kate rolls her eyes.

“So soon. Like that.” Yelena snaps her fingers for emphasis.

She can’t see Yelena’s face as they continue to wind their way through the store, but Kate’s very aware of her shopping buddy’s smugness. It’s in her straight back, the square set of her shoulders beneath the furry, brown coat. Yelena’s even gripping both sides of the cart as if she’s the one steering. Kate keeps to herself the fact that Yelena looks more like a toddler hemmed in by a childproof fence. She’s adorable. It’s probably a dangerous thing to think—it’d be a dangerous thing to admit out loud (Yelena might actually kill her)—but she does think it. Yelena is adorable. She’s adorable and she’s coming home with Kate for a January Christmas feast.

It’s hard to tell whether Yelena is aware of how incredibly kind this is; she’s sharp and insightful and she pretends to be rusty and awkward at the friendship thing, but she’s known tremendous loss, which is impossible without knowing tremendous love, and… Kate is thankful, that’s all.

Leaving the Barton Christmas? It was hard. And it wasn’t. As many times as Laura hugged her, or Lila led her outside for target practice, or Cooper challenged her to video games, or Nate tried to teach her to draw (humiliatingly, they’re at basically the same skill level), part of Kate wanted to get out of there. That was for Clint. He deserved a safe, happy family Christmas. Who knew how many of those he’d missed in his risk-riddled lifetime?

She still let herself get talked into staying for New Year’s, but that was it. Before heading home to New York, Kate made peace with the loneliness she’d face. Dad long dead. Mom freshly incarcerated. She’s still working out a wobbly new bond with Jack. (Not to mention struggling to find him the right present—what do you buy the guy who was engaged to your mother, whose arrest was kinda-sorta-maybe your fault, who you almost stabbed in the face on purpose, whose endearingly step-fatherly Christmas-morning text was 80% emojis but still made you tear up?)

She wasn’t expecting to come back to find somebody as hopeful and alone, as wounded and free as she was. She wasn’t expecting Yelena.

And she is really grateful for whatever partial patch-up Clint and Yelena managed (he was stoically tight-lipped about it over Christmas, leading Kate to believe Natasha had a lot to do with their budding truce). It makes her feel so much less guilty about the whole situation of having a major crush on the Black Widow assassin who tried to take out her partner. Seriously. What a load off her mind.

They swing out of the produce section and towards the checkout.

“Maybe they’ll give you free groceries,” Yelena suggests.

“Why would they do that?”

“For being famous.”

Kate laughs uncomfortably.

“I don’t think I’m that recognizable.”

With a little struggling that tests their cart’s unreliable wheel, Yelena repositions herself until she’s sitting facing Kate. The loaf of bread is in her lap. The hand she gestures towards Kate holds a potato.

“You’re wearing purple,” Yelena says. Kate darts a look down at her coordinated sweatsuit, visible under her open coat. “Like, the exact shade of your superhero outfit. With even the same ponytail.”

Kate touches her ponytail self-consciously, but Yelena is merciless.

“You need to be more versatile with your hair. You want people to know who you are? Ok,” she allows with a shrug. “One look for that. Ponytail while doing the arrows and falling out of the buildings. The rest of the time, no ponytail. Otherwise, everyone bothers you, trying to have a chat, trying to get your autograph. Or trying to kill you.” Yelena shrugs again. “Depending on the person.”

“Or both,” Kate says thoughtfully. “There was one Tracksuit Mafia guy…”

She waves off the ending of her own anecdote. Not important. Not as important, anyway, as the way Yelena’s looking at her. Fine, she’s only looking at her like that because Kate is agreeing with what she said, possibly letting herself be mentored in the art of incognito bad-assery and grocery acquisition, but it still makes Kate trip over her own feet and slam the end of the cart into the magazine rack next to the conveyor belt. A tabloid flops onto Yelena’s lap, atop the bread. She studies it for a minute while Kate gives the cashier an apologetic smile for the collision and begins transferring their items onto the belt.

As she’s peeling Yelena’s distracted fingers off the potato, Yelena meets her eye and holds up the magazine to show Kate the cover: a smiling Meghan and Harry.

“How many years do you think before he loses all his hair?” she asks.

Kate’s at a loss for words, but Yelena, as sure of herself as ever, turns and slaps the magazine down beside their groceries.

“I’m getting this too,” she says. “I want to see if they asked him about his hair. My father will be curious. I can text him.”

Maintaining a painful smile for the cashier—whose offended expression says she might be a Prince Harry fan—Kate gets them out of there as fast as she can.

—

Getting Yelena through the front door of the Bishop residence is like getting Lucky to walk in the opposite direction of the scent of pizza (which, in Manhattan, is a recurring problem): it’s hard. There’s a lotta verbal coaxing. In lieu of an encouraging scratch behind the ears or beneath the chin, Kate would like to—god, gettin’ crazy now—weave her fingers between her guest’s, or tug at her jacket’s fluffy lapel.

She’s gonna swoon at the thought, but she can’t swoon, because the grocery bag she’s carrying has the potatoes at the bottom and if she swoons, she’ll probably fall on them and mash them, and they’re not supposed to get mashed until they’re in a pot on the stove.

Kate takes a breath and decides to handle this gently, just to get the damn assassin into her house.

“Uh, Yelena? Kinda hard to have our Christmas feast out here in the hall. I need to turn the oven on for the turkey. And the stove! We need the stove, otherwise we’ll be eating raw potatoes.”

“I’ve eaten much worse,” Yelena says gruffly.

Sighing in exasperation, Kate grimaces. Her arms are getting tired of holding most of the bags.

“Do I need to go back for a shopping cart so I can push you in?!”

Yelena gives her a sideways look that starts out unreadable before softening into something Kate might almost call vulnerable.

“These are not the usual circumstances for me to be entering somebody’s home,” she says.

“Yeah, no murders today, please. It’s just me and Lucky—who’s probably in here sleeping on some expensive piece of my mom’s furniture that he’s definitely not allowed to be on—and I’m pretty attached to both of us.” Kate stands there for a few seconds, subtly rolling her shoulders to ease the strain. “You could break in through an upstairs window, if you want? No no no, don’t do that, I take it back.”

“Still an invitation, Kate Bishop.” Yelena finally smiles at her. Between that and the way she says her name, Kate gets a little shiver. Yelena’s going to think her arms are weak as shit. “You take all the fun out of breaking and entering.”

“My bad. It’s totally safe though,” Kate promises, eyes lifting towards the high ceiling of the entry hall. “I guess it might be hard for you to turn off, but you don’t have to be so on your guard here.”

“Totally safe,” Yelena repeats.

“Yeah. My mom runs a security company, remember? Ran. She ran a security company.”

Yelena stares at her.

“…Which was obviously not very secure,” Kate concedes, smiling sheepishly. “Point taken. But I’m here now!” She beams.

“Oh? Are you going to protect me, Kate Bishop?”

Yelena’s smile is dangerous and Kate is far from unflappable in the face of it.

“Uh, yes? Yes,” she says with more conviction.

“Alright.” Yelena sniffs. “Let’s cook the absolute shit out of this big bird you bought.”

Her dour resolve says she’s ready to slowly roast the turkey over an open pit while the reflected flames dance hellishly in her eyes, so Kate holds her breath as she neatly (mostly) hefts the turkey into the roasting pan and slides it into one of their kitchen’s two spacious ovens, hoping her guest won’t be disappointed. There’s no butchery—no grim, life-stealing stab of the knife Kate got out to chop the potatoes. Yelena doesn’t even fight to get to be the one to sew up the turkey, though she does watch Kate’s fingers while she sews. Miraculously, Kate’s dexterous enough not to stab the thick needle into her hand and focused enough not to sew her hand to a dead bird’s ass, even with Yelena’s intense attention.

“Ok,” she announces brightly, slamming the oven door on their raw and well-buttered friend. “Now we make the rest of it while our pal gets golden and crispy.”

“First wash your hands,” Yelena instructs.

“I was going to.”

“With soap.”

“I know,” Kate insists, pumping her palm full of foam and turning on the faucet with her elbow. “You’re awfully bossy in the kitchen for someone who doesn’t cook.”

Yelena ignores this assessment.

“We need aprons.”

And while Kate’s digging through a low cupboard to look for some, the knees of her purple sweatpants sliding on the tile, Yelena adds, “Cooking is like killing. You don’t want to get all the gunk on your clothes.”

“You…” Kate huffs, standing up and thrusting one of the two aprons she found at Yelena. “…are full of strange wisdom.”

“I know.”

Kate’s already looping the strap of her apron over her head as Yelena unfolds her own, both of them staring at it. Then Kate bursts out laughing.

“That must be Jack’s.”

It’s longer and wider than Kate’s—evidently designed with a larger frame in mind—but the best part, the part that has her eyes tearing, is that the front reads Kiss the Cook in a sassy, swirly script.

“Now that is just mean,” Yelena protests, donning the apron. “Laughing because you think nobody would kiss me.”

Instantly, Kate’s clearing her throat where her laughter gave way to this thick and rubbery feeling. She zips to the mostly-empty grocery bag, stumbling in her sock-feet, and retrieves the potatoes. They roll unevenly across the countertop and she stills them with clammy palms before lurching away.

“I-I don’t think that.”

“Good,” Yelena says firmly. She plucks the knife from the counter. It’s a blur, spinning on her palm, before Yelena’s hand closes confidently around the handle and decisively chops a potato into perfect halves with the blade. “I don’t need to cook fancy things. My mac ’n’ cheese abilities are excellent.”

“They are.”

“It’s very seductive. I could seduce somebody with my mac and cheese from the box. It’s irresistible. They would be so seduced.”

Kate nods, and not just because Yelena has half-turned towards her, gesturing with her very sharp knife. Yelena could seduce somebody with mac and cheese. She did.

The best thing to do, Kate figures, is break the one-sided tension by opening the cranberry sauce and slopping it into a priceless cutglass bowl. It sluuuurps horrifically from the can and Yelena claps and cheers.

“That was disgusting,” she pronounces. “I can’t wait to eat that.”

She bends forward, sniffing carefully at the scarlet jelly. When she tilts her head to check it out from all angles, her braid swings forward. Without thinking, Kate reaches to catch it before Yelena gets food in her hair.

Before she can blink, Yelena’s tight grip is around her wrist. Her expression is a warning—if she still had that coat on, its fur would probably be bristling—but that fades rapidly.

“Reflex,” she says, releasing Kate.

Kate swallows and reaches again for Yelena’s braid, though she’s jerked to stand straight and the food-hair hazard is gone.

“I was just going to…”

Kate finishes explaining by not explaining. In a motion that looks easier than it feels, she brushes Yelena’s braid back over her shoulder.

“There,” she says, exhaling.

For a long minute, Yelena stares back at her. Kate’s eyes start to burn with how much she needs to blink. She can stay strong though—she wasn’t the fifth-grade staring-contest champion for nothing. Then her guest is chopping potatoes again, head bent forward carefully to keep her braid in place.

“Big pieces?” Yelena asks. “Chunks?”

“Yeah. Yeah, uh, not too big, but not… minced or… or anything…” Half of Kate’s brain is dwelling gleefully on the important new information she’s just acquired (what Yelena’s hair feels like) when the other half shifts to the cooking. The potatoes look wrong. Her full brain engages. “Oh shit! We forgot to peel them!”

“Who is ‘we’? ‘We forgot,’” Yelena scoffs, stepping back as Kate edges in to peel the remaining whole potatoes plus the cubes Yelena’s created. “Do I know this instinctually? No. Same way I don’t know you have a specific needle for… for…” She motions to her throat. “…for sew turkey’s neck shut. So rich! So precious about needles! If I had to find a specific neck-sewing needle before I could sew my neck shut, you know what happens? I bleed out. Нет. One needle. Same for hip, same for arm, same for neck.”

Kate pauses and gives Yelena a freaked-out look, eyes wide.

“You’ve really been through it, huh?”

“At least I never had to sew my ass shut, Kate Bishop. Things can always be worse.”

Kate lets out a laugh and Yelena snorts, cracking up with her. Gently, she prods Kate in the ribs, elbowing her aside to take over peeling.

“I know how to peel a potato.”

Kate sighs loudly, throwing up her hands.

“So why didn’t you then?!”

“I thought maybe you like to eat the skin! What am I going to do, ruin your Christmas by taking away your favourite part of the meal? Potato skin?” Another laugh vibrates up Kate’s throat and soon her eyes are blurry with hysterical tears as Yelena goes on, skinning perfect strips off the potatoes all the while. “If I take away all of your potato skins, where will you get your vitamins, Kate Bishop? Hmm? So many irreplaceable health benefits. Maybe you will get very sick and then what for me? I can’t leave when you’re getting scurvy. I can’t have this on my conscience. I am very sensitive.”

Still chuckling, Kate forces out, “How long… so how long are you staying in New York?”

She sees Yelena’s calculating sideways glance and tries to look less curious than she feels. Not too blatantly flippin’ obvious that she wants Yelena to stay. Wants her to want to stay. Kate leans back against the kitchen’s island, drumming her short nails on its side.

Done with the potatoes, Yelena turns, raising her chin as she observes Kate.

“I am still thinking,” she says.

“So you’re not, like, taking off tomorrow or anything.”

“No. Tomorrow is Saturday. It’s much easier to get a flight during the week.”

“Oh, so maybe Monday then.”

Kate’s disappointed and, dammit, she can hear it in her voice. Which means that Yelena can probably spot the fleeting downturn of her mouth. Jeeze, with her honed assassin senses, she can probably smell her disappointment, somewhere under the funk of raw turkey.

Yelena takes a half-step towards her.

“Actually,” she says, “I think the weather is bad here. Not a good time to fly.”

Kate nods.

“Lotta brutal snowstorms in January,” she agrees.

“Maybe I should stay for the rest of the month.” Another tiny step. The space between the counter and the island really isn’t very far. “Leave in February.”

“Y-you could do that,” Kate says, nonchalant. But her hands are sliding up the side of the island to grip the edge.

“I haven’t seen a baseball game yet. I should go to one before I leave America, don’t you think?”

A huffed, surprised laugh leaves Kate.

“Baseball doesn’t start ’til the spring.”

“Then I guess I have to stay until the spring.”

“Where would you stay?”

Yelena glances around the kitchen and back to Kate, smiling meaningfully.

“Well, yeah,” Kate says, “obviously, I would invite you to just stay here, but I don’t wanna ‘take the fun out of breaking and entering.’”

“Thank you.” Yelena glances down at her apron, then up. “And if I stay, I get to wear the apron.”

“Definitely. Every time you cook mac ’n’ cheese.”

“And every time I want you to kiss me and you are having trouble taking the hint.”

Kate’s mouth falls open, but no sound comes out.

“Come over here, Kate Bishop,” Yelena says, voice rough but soft.

Although there’s not a lot of here to come over, Kate pitches forward, cups Yelena’s face in both hands, and bows her head to kiss her. One of Yelena’s hands presses the middle of Kate’s back and the one that settles on her cheek smells like potatoes. The starchiness of the residue feels gross against her skin, but that doesn’t really matter. It’s a grossness to be excited about, like the cranberry sauce, except better.

Kate’s rocking further into Yelena, not wanting this to end now that it’s started, wanting to feel every angle as their heads tilt and their lips nudge and slip, but Yelena pulls back and the kiss ends with the loud, abrupt smack of their mouths separating. Kate blinks.

“Wait wait wait,” Yelena says, twisting and reaching for her back pocket. “Ha!”

She gets her braid off her neck and her bangs out of her eyes with one flick of her head. With a self-congratulatory grin, she presents Kate with a packet of dried meat. Kate squints at it.

“I got you reindeer jerky!” Yelena declares with impatient enthusiasm. “See what a great guest I am? I bring you dessert.”

Kate glances up, expression tight.

“This looks awful,” she says. “And I feel comfortable saying that because you’ve already confirmed it. You said it’s chewy, it’s, uh, tough—”

“Oh, it is the worst.”

Kate’s mouth pulls into an uncontrollable smile.

“I can’t wait. This is an amazing gift.”

“We’ll have it with a strong drink, maybe,” Yelena suggests as Kate tosses the packet onto the island behind her. “Because it is also unbelievably dry.”

“Absolutely. We can swirl our glasses like all my mom’s snotty business associates and gnaw on our jerky.”

“I’ll swirl as long as you don’t have an expensive carpet. I’m not good around expensive carpets. I swear, the liquid just jumps out of the glass.”

“Swirl gently. Little baby swirl.”

Kate motions in the air. Yelena grabs her swirling hand and holds it. With the other, she points to the phrase embroidered across the front of her apron.

“That is handy,” Kate acknowledges, smirking before initiating a second kiss. Just as Yelena’s hand is skimming up the back of her neck, she leans back. “Oh god,” she says, grimacing. “Did my mom and Jack do this?”

“Do not worry about it,” Yelena recommends. She gives Kate’s swaying ponytail a short, playful tug. “Only worry about making me perfect mashed potatoes.”

Kate laughs and rubs her scalp with exaggeration.

“Alright.”

“I’m serious. If they’re no good, I’m leaving.”

Cockily tipping her chin up, Kate smiles.

“Liar.”

#my writing #Hawkeye #Kate Bishop #Yelena Belova #Kate x Yelena #Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova #Hawkeye fic #MCU

[nerdzzone]

Only For A Moment: October + November [part one]

Summary: A series of shorter one shots from Chris and Whitney’s life together throughout the pandemic. Some happy times, some harder times, some fluff and some things a little more sexy - they work through it all as they try to get settled in their new and blossoming relationship.

Chris Evans x OFC

18+

Part of the Once Bitten/More Hearts series

Only For A Moment: September

Note: I was originally going to post this as one longer one shot, but I’ve split it into two. I haven’t finished writing the last part of the series yet and I’ve had a really bad and busy week so I haven’t had much time to work on it. It’s planned out, I just need to write it, but posting November as two parts gives me more time to finish it.

Thank you to everyone who has read and commented on this story. The support has been amazing!

-----

October 2020

"Hey," I greeted Chris as I poked my head around the door of his office. "Are you busy? Can I talk to you for a sec?"

He put down the script he was reading - something for a project he'd be starting as soon as the pandemic allowed - and nodded his head.

"Sure, what's up?"

I moved into the room, feeling strangely nervous about what I was about to ask.

"How would you feel," I started. "About me going to New York for a weekend for work?"

He raised his eyebrows, seemingly surprised by my inquiry and I rushed to assure him a bit more.

"They sent all the protocols that would be followed along with the job offer and it seems like it would be as safe as it possibly could be these days and I would drive up, not fly, so that would cut down on the chance of exposure a bit too," I assured him. "But I know that there's always a risk at the moment and it affects you and Gray too so I won't go if you're at all concerned."

Chris was smiling by the time I finished my long explanation and I felt a glimmer of hope that he wouldn't shoot down the idea immediately. I missed working and while Chris at least had 'A Starting Point' to focus on and various scripts to read through, I'd been completely out of work for months and I was ready to get back into it.

"Whitney, you don't need to convince me," he assured me. "I trust you. If you think it's safe and you want to do it then go for it."

"Okay, thank you," I let out a breath of relief. "I really do want to do it. I miss working."

"I know what you mean," he agreed. "What's the project?"

I couldn't hold back my grin as I answered that question.

"I get to go hang out with your friends," I informed him. "It's a promo shoot for Sebastian and Mackie's new show."

"Aw, man! That's great," Chris laughed. "Would you mind if I tagged along? I won't get in the way, I'll stay out of the photo shoot, but it would be nice to have a change of scenery."

"You wouldn't be allowed to come to the photo shoot at all," I warned him. "That was part of the protocol - no guests - and I don't know how many places are open there right now, there might not be much for you to do."

"I can keep myself entertained," he shrugged before flashing me a smirk. "We can leave Grayson with my mom, it'll be nice to have an adults only weekend."

"That would be nice," I agreed, matching his smirk as I followed his train of thought. We did fairly well making sure we got some quality time together, but we had to be quiet and quick and we always had the threat of Grayson interrupting in the back of our minds. "It's just a one day shoot so we'd have the Sunday together too."

"That's great," Chris grinned. "It'll be nice to get away."

"It will," I agreed, walking around his desk to lean down and capture his lips in a kiss. "Our first romantic getaway."

He slid his arm around my hips to keep me close as he smiled up at me.

"I can't wait."

-

November 2020

Leaving Grayson was harder than I anticipated. Considering I used to leave him with Chris every other week, I thought leaving him for a weekend would be easy, but I was a weepy mess. I held it together in front of Grayson so that he didn't get upset too - even though he was completely unbothered as he skipped off into Lisa's house - but once we got in the car, I let a few tears slip.

Of course, Chris teased me about it, but there was something in the way that he slipped his hand in mine and squeezed it reassuringly that told me he was feeling it too. We’d all adjusted to our new normal and Chris and I had really embraced having Gray by our side all the time so while two days was not a ridiculous amount of time to be apart, it felt like a momentous occasion. However, after giving ourselves a few minutes to wallow in the sadness, we agreed to do our best to push those feelings aside. We deserved a weekend away. No matter how much we loved him, parenting twenty-four/seven for almost ten months was hard work especially while trying to build our new relationship.

By the time we arrived in Manhattan in the early evening, our melancholy mood had shifted. The drive, spent playing silly little car games like ‘I Spy’ and singing cheesy duets, had put us in a wonderful mood and kicked off our weekend nicely. It was a fairly long drive though so I let Chris check in while I scampered off to use the restroom in the lobby. He had the keys by the time I found him again and when we got up the room, I was shocked. It was a fancy hotel - Marvel did tend to be quite generous when it came to accommodations - but it wasn't until we walked into the room that I realized we had the penthouse suite.

"Holy shit," I gasped, looking around at the luxurious space and amazing view out over Central Park. "This has to be a mistake, there's no way Marvel would pay for this!"

"No, they wouldn't," Chris smirked as he dropped our bags and moved over to the bottle of champagne that was already chilling in an ice bucket. "But I would."

"What?" I giggled. "What are you talking about? We already had a reservation booked in my name."

"Yeah, and I upgraded it," he grinned. "I just paid the difference between the room Marvel booked and this one."

He popped the champagne and poured it for us before coming to join me at the window and handing me a glass.

"You didn't have to do that, Chris. This is a pretty nice hotel, I'm sure whatever room they booked would have been fine."

"Oh yeah, it would have been fine," he shrugged. "But fine isn't what I'm aiming for this weekend and since we can't do much outside of this hotel anyway, the least I can do is make sure we have a good room."

I was looking forward to getting back to work, but suddenly I wished that I didn't have to as the idea of a romantic weekend hidden away in our gorgeous suite seemed like the best thing in the world. But, I knew we wouldn't have come without an excuse, so I tried to focus on being grateful for the time that we did have together.

Slipping my arm around his waist and stretching up on my toes, I pulled him in for a kiss, trying to convey my gratitude and excitement for the weekend.

"Well, I can think of several things we can do in this room that will keep us very busy," I teased once our lips parted again. "We better get started now or we might run out of time..."

Chris chuckled as he took a sip of his champagne, but shook his head.

"Not yet, Winnie," he denied me, despite his raspy voice. "Why don't you take that champagne and run yourself a nice bath while I order us some room service?"

I felt a frown slide onto my face and I would have been embarrassed at my childish pout had I not been so confused about him turning me down.

"Why?" I asked. "I would have thought you'd be raring to go now that we can finally enjoy ourselves with no interruptions..."

"I am but I want to enjoy it,” Chris informed me, leaning down to nip at my neck before letting his lips hover next to my ear. "I want you relaxed and well-fed so I can take my time while I make you scream my name over and over and over."

His low voice sent shivers down my spine as his plan for the night sent a wave of arousal through me. My mouth suddenly felt dry and my brain forgot how to make words as I choked out an 'okay' and took myself off to the bathroom to do as he'd instructed.

-

When I wandered out into the living room area of our suite almost forty-five minutes later, I was thoroughly relaxed. Wrapped in a very fluffy white bathrobe that was at least two sizes too big for me, I announced my entrance with a contented sigh. Chris looked up at the sound and let out a laugh.

"What?" I giggled, striking a pose as I had a good idea what he found amusing. "They only had one size."

"You look adorable," he grinned at me. "C'mere, let me top up your drink."

I did as he asked, walking over to where he was sitting and noticed the cart full of food that was next to him. He'd ordered my favourite - mac 'n' cheese - and I felt a rush of love for him when I saw it. A lot of people had teased me over the years, insisting that it was more of a child's dish - something not refined enough for an adult’s palate - but it had always been one of my top choices and I was touched that he'd remembered.

He'd ordered a steak for himself and we both eagerly tucked into our meals, eating until we were almost painfully full and just barely saving enough room for the peanut butter cheesecake that he'd ordered for dessert. That was another favourite of mine and I got a stern warning from Chris - as I moaned through every mouthful - that I needed to control myself until we'd had a chance to digest our large meal. I bit back a smirk, almost tempted to continue my noises of pleasure just to antagonize him, but I reluctantly decided to behave.

After we ate, we curled up on the couch with something meaningless on the TV as we recovered from the large meal. We were half-watching it, half just basking in the contentment of our full stomachs until Chris eventually decided that we'd waited long enough.

My feet were draped over his lap as we lounged and I felt his hands slowly move from lazy stroking the tops of my feet to higher up my ankle. At first, I didn't pay much attention as I mindlessly scrolled through my phone, but as his hand trailed higher up my leg, his intentions became more clear. I fought to keep a straight face as I continued to ignore him even as his hand slid up to my knee. He kept it there for a few moments, rubbing his thumb against my skin, but he quickly lost his patience as I continued playing it cool. Letting out a soft growl, he returned his hands to my feet and with a swift tug, he moved me down the couch.

"Chris!" I giggled as my head slipped from the arm of the couch onto the cushion where my bum had been moments before. "What are you doing?"

"You were ignoring me," he smirked. "So, I took matters into my own hands."

"Maybe I was reading something important," I teased. "You're so rude."

He pulled again, moving my hips up onto his lap.

"I'm rude? We're on a romantic getaway and you're starin’ at your phone."

"Well, maybe you weren't being very interesting."

He chuckled at that, but shook his head.

"You're such a brat," he scolded. "Maybe I should just flip you over and teach you a lesson."

He moved a hand down and pinched my bum to emphasize his point and I gasped as a wave of intrigue flooded through me. Using the back of the couch for leverage, I pulled myself up until I was sitting on his lap, but the positioning was a bit awkward so I shifted and straddled him instead.

"I'm not sure if a spanking from you would be much of a punishment..."

My words made his eyes darken as his hands rubbed up and down my thighs.

"Oh, really?" He questioned and I nodded with a smile. "Well, that is very interesting information to have."

"I'm surprised you haven't brought it up before," I teased. "Since you're such an ass man."

"Shut up," Chris chuckled before forcing me to do so by pressing my lips against his.

It started off as a sweet, playful kiss, but the mood of anticipation between us quickly transitioned it into something more.

His hands moved from my thighs up to my hips as I let mine slide behind him - one rubbing the soft hairs on his neck as the other held the back of his head, keeping it firmly against my own. Our lips parted, letting our tongues bump and glide against each other and I felt a fire started to burn inside of me already.

Our position and the fact that I was wearing nothing, but a bathrobe meant that there was nothing between us other than Chris' jeans. I was pressed bare against him which became apparent when he used his firm grip to pull me even closer towards him. A gasp fell from my lips at the friction the denim caused and Chris pulled back to grin at me.

"Does that feel good?" He pressed my hips forward again as he asked the question and my eyes fluttered shut as I nodded. "Then keep going."

He titled his chin to capture my lips in another kiss as he loosened his grip on me, but his instructions had been clear. Taking matters into my own hands, I started rocking my hips slowly against his enjoying the sparks I felt every time I rubbed against him. I could feel him harden, the bulge underneath me growing bigger with every pass of my hips, and the feeling had me moaning into his mouth. I almost stood up - I almost pulled myself off of his lap and dragged him to the bedroom as my body craved him and wanted him inside me - but I remembered what he'd said. He wanted to wait, to take it slow and savour the experience so, with a smirk to myself, I continued my actions with the knowledge of his growing arousal only adding to my pleasure.

As if Chris could read my mind or feel my misguided sense of control, he tightened his grip again and pressed me even harder against him. I moaned at the sensation, pulling my mouth from his as my head fell backwards. I tried to find something to focus on, something to help me regain a morsel of self-control, but nothing in the room could distract from the pressure that was building quickly as the rough material dragged against my clit. A part of me was embarrassed to be rubbing myself against him like this, but with each thrust of my hips, a much bigger part of me grew too desperate to care.

Taking advantage of my exposed neck, Chris latched his lips onto the skin, nipping and sucking gently before tracing kisses up until his mouth was beside my ear.

"You're almost there, aren't you?" His voice was low and the way my fingers dug into the back of his neck was all the answer I could muster as his hands forced my body to keep up the steady rhythm. "I bet you're almost soakin’ right through my pants. You're so needy. Go on, Winnie, take what you want."

A whimper fell from my lips as his words sent shivers down my spine. My movements, supported by his hands, became even more frantic as I felt my release building to a peak and after a few more shifts against him, I let out a strangled moan as I crashed over the edge.

Chris continued his mumbled words of encouragement as his hands continued to force me to move until I melted against him and let my head flop onto his shoulder. My breath against his neck drew goosebumps up on his skin and I placed a soft kiss on them as I fought to control my breathing.

"How're you feeling?"

I sighed softly in response to Chris' question, fighting to make my brain function enough to form words.

"Wonderful," I purred into his ear after taking a moment to compose myself. "But I'm really dying to have you inside me..."

Without another word, Chris used his grip on my hips to lift me off his lap and onto my feet. My legs felt shaky from the strength of my recent orgasm, but they held me up as I stared down at Chris, a bit stunned by the fast movement. He looked up at me for a brief moment before raising an eyebrow and nodding his head towards our bedroom.

"Do you need me to carry you?" He questioned, his tone laced with sarcasm as he clearly noticed the quiver in my legs. "Or can you walk?"

I giggled and playfully rolled my eyes, but turned towards the bedroom. Trying to regain some semblance of power in the situation, I undid the robe that was still tied around my waist and let it fall to the floor. The action left me completely naked as I walked away and I heard a growl of approval from Chris followed by the sound of him jumping to his feet behind me. I scampered off with him hot on my heels, but he caught me in his grasp when I was a few feet past our bedroom door.

He easily lifted me off the ground and I let out a squeal as he tossed me onto the bed.

"Wow," I giggled as I flopped onto my back, leaning up on my elbows to look at him. "That was a graceful landing, real sexy."

Chris smirked as he pulled his shirt over his head.

"You're always sexy," he insisted, moving to the bed and crawling over me. "I can't get enough of you."

Before I could respond, his mouth was back on mine. I smiled against his lips and took a moment to run my hands over his toned muscles, but quickly moved them down to the belt on his jeans as I was eager to get things moving. Almost immediately, he pulled away with that damn smirk still on his face.

"Not so fast," he warned. "I said we were going to take our time."

"We already did," I whined. "Please, Chris, I want you so bad."

He dipped his head and kissed along my jaw until his lips hovered by my ear.

"And you'll have me," he assured me. "Eventually."

I let out a groan of frustration, but as he trailed his kisses lower until they reached my chest, the groan became one of pleasure. A hand slid up my side until it was level with his head and while his mouth captured one nipple, his fingers pinched the other. I gasped and arched my back up towards him, desperate to be as close to him as possible.

His actions started off soft. His fingers and lips worked in a gentle, almost teasing way that had me almost ready to whine for more, but just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, he increased the pressure. His fingers pinched and tweaked one as he nipped the other and the sensation had my hips pressing up against him almost of their own volition. He chuckled as I lifted a leg to hook it over his hip, pulling him down in an attempt to find any friction as he moved to rest his chin between my breasts.

"You're so impatient," he teased. "I'm not gonna fuck you yet."

His voice was thick and rough from his own aroused state and it only made me more desperate.

"Please, Chris..." I whined. "Why not?"

Chris let his teeth graze against my skin briefly before moving further down my body, my question apparently going unanswered. He kissed his way over my stomach, an affectionate smile appearing on his face as he watched the muscles under his mouth quiver and twitch from his actions. It appeared he was intent on taking his sweet time and I really was about to start begging again when he finally settled between my thighs, pulling my legs to rest over his shoulders.

A snarky comment about him taking so long was on the tip of my tongue, but any attitude I was feeling disappeared as he pressed his tongue against me, licking upwards until he settled against my clit. I couldn't hold back the moans and gasps that poured from my lips from the sensation and for a moment, I worried I was being too loud. However, from the way Chris' fingers dug into my ass to lift me higher against his mouth, he seemed to find it encouraging.

He was focused and determined, his lazy mood from moments earlier seemingly gone and I wasn't complaining as I was already practically dripping on to the bed with need. He knew my body almost better than I did and the way his lips were locked on just the right spot, sucking with just the right pressure was driving me wild.

In a few mere minutes, I was already teetering on the edge, but when I gasped out a warning to Chris, he instantly pulled away.

I lifted my head as I let out a growl and scowled down at him - the cocky smirk on his face only adding to my annoyance.

"What the hell, Chris," I huffed. "Keep going!"

He kissed my thigh as I felt an almost painful ache between my legs.

"Patience, Winnie," he warned me. "You need a lesson in patience."

The overwhelming feeling I felt in response to that comment was frustration, but there was a hint of intrigue as well. I was at his mercy, being teased and toyed with until he decided otherwise and I'd be lying if that knowledge didn't turn me on even more.

"Do you-" I gasped as he blew against the wet place his mouth had been moments before. "Do you want me to beg?"

"It wouldn't hurt," he grinned. "But there is something appealing about the thought of seeing how long I can keep you like this..."

That idea filled me with dread. As enticing as my helplessness in this scenario was, the thought of it lasting more than a few minutes seemed painfully cruel.

"No, please don't," I pleaded. "Please touch me, Chris. Please, please. I need it so bad."

He groaned, letting his forehead rest against my thigh for a moment before looking up to meet my eyes.

"The way you say my name when you're like this drives me crazy."

He moved his hand to flick his thumb over my clit and his name fell from my lips again as a desperate whimper. That seemed to be all he needed to hear as he quickly attached his mouth back to that sweet spot.

Instantly, my hands shot to grip his head as mine fell back against the pillows. He held down my hips that were pushing up towards him, desperate to increase the friction, but it didn't matter. I was so close already, so worked up from his previous actions, that it took no time at all for the pressure he'd built up inside me to boil over as I finally found my release.

As always, he coaxed me through it, only moving back when he was sure my orgasm had faded. By the time it was done, my chest was heaving and Chris dragged himself off the bed, giving me a moment to catch my breath as he rid himself of his jeans and boxers. I smiled at the sight, but I was in a daze. My whole body felt like jelly from the two amazing orgasms I'd just received, but that didn't stop me from the moment of clarity that hit just as he was climbing back over me.

"Wait! Condom."

Chris cursed under his breath before hopping off the bed and quickly rifling through his bag. He found one - which I knew he would as I'd reminded him several times to pack them so we wouldn’t be caught without them in a moment like this - and returned to the bed.

"Hurry," I panted. "I need you."

A quiet growl rumbled from Chris' chest as he quickly tore open the condom wrapper and put it on. I was still sensitive from our previous activities, but as soon as he was on top of me again, I was pressing up towards him. He filled me with an almost insatiable need and it seemed his patience was also thin after being so hard for so long as he slid inside me with impressive speed.

I groaned from the sensation of him filling me so quickly, but any discomfort quickly shifted into pleasure as he rocked his hips against mine. My fingers dug into his shoulders as my legs wrapped around his waist pulling him closer as he quickly established a steady rhythm. As much as he wanted to take his time, his restraint was clearly waning as he kept up a vigorous pace. My over sensitive state and his purposefully angled thrusts, hitting all the right nerves with just the right pressure, had me writing beneath him as I basked in the sensation.

Chris was always rather vocal, but as his moans, grunts and whispers of filthy commentary grew louder and more unrestrained it became clear that he was also edging closer and closer to his peak. His hips snapped with more ferocity and all I could do was hold onto him tightly, giving him all the control and riding the waves of pleasure he was causing.

“I’m close,” he groaned, his voice strained as his breath hit my neck.

Unable to form words, I made a noise that I hoped would convey my agreement and his movements seemed to become even more pointed and more deliberate. With every thrust, he made sure to rub against every sensitive spot inside me and moments later, I felt my release hit me. It felt like every muscle in my body tensed as I quivered and clenched around him, a sound leaving my mouth that was so lustful and unrestrained that I could hardly believe it was coming from me. He gasped out a moan of his own from the sensation of me coming around him and quickened his pace through my orgasm until eventually he stilled, the sound of his pleasure echoing through my ears.

Once we had both recovered, Chris rolled off of me, pulling the condom off and disposing of it in the garbage can next to the bed before he settled on his back, chest heaving from exertion.

I let out a happy sigh as I curled into his side and his arm wrapped around me, pulling me close.

"That was amazing," I smiled, placing a kiss against his chest.

He chuckled, squeezing me even tighter as he answered.

"See? Patience. It makes everything better."

I nipped at the skin underneath my mouth.

"Shut up."

He leaned down to place a kiss on the top of my head and I smiled.

"I love you," he practically whispered in the darkness. "I'm so glad we get this weekend together."

"Me too," I agreed. "I love you too."

He squeezed me closer again as we laid there curled up in each other, basking in our post-orgasmic glow.

No one had ever made me feel the way that Chris did. I’d never felt as safe with anyone, I’d never felt so able to let my guard down, and the physical aspect of our relationship clearly benefited greatly from the closeness that we shared. It was an amazing feeling to know that we were so in tune with each other and that there was so much room to explore the things that made us feel good and, despite being fully satisfied for the time being, I couldn't help but let my mind wander to other things I would be interested in delving into as I drifted off to sleep.

-

November [part two]

Tags:  @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces @firoozehmoon @patzammit @sparkledfirecracker @mytbel0st @chvntelle-99 @mjey12

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans smut #chris evans fic #once bitten/more hearts #only for a moment

[quicksilverownsmysoul]

13 Going on 30 pt. 3

A Peter Maximoff x reader fanfic based off the movie 13 going on 30

Summary:  You are so excited when the most popular girl in your school agrees to come to your 13th birthday party. But after a cruel prank you find yourself wishing that you were popular and older. By some miracle your wish is granted but isn’t as wonderful as it seems. You turn out to be a major jerk and you don't even talk to your best friend Peter anymore. Can you fix everything and get back to normal or are you stuck living like this forever

Warnings: Angst, Some suggestive content, But it’s mostly pure fluff. (Also Peter has no powers in this fic, and some scenes will be changed to fit Peter and his personality and so I can be creative with it!)

Word Count: 2103

Peter thought it was safe to say that adult life sucked. And it wasn't just because he had run out of lucky charms this morning and had to settle for something called shredded wheat that was hidden away in the back of the panty. They were gross and tasted like cardboard, but Peter was all out of groceries so this would have to do.

 No nothing had seemed to go right for him after high school, he went to college, (even though he spent most of the time partying and goofing off), got the degree and yet he was barely scraping by. But he couldn't complain, all that much at least. He enjoyed his job and even if at times it was hard to earn money he wouldn't trade it for the world. He had fallen in love with photography in freshman year and decided to major in it. He had a minor in business too, something you had always told him would be useful as a backup. You were always practical like that, making sure he never completely fell over the edge. But he was hesitant to use it, because in using that minor it kinda meant he was giving up his dream. Giving in to the regular, soul crossing 9 to 5 job that everyone seemed to have. Peter was a dreamer at heart, in a way it would kill him to do anything other than photography.

He ate a spoonful of his cereal, making a face at the dull taste. Chewing, he glanced over at the stack of bills littering the counter. A lot of them were piling up, sooner or later he may have to give into the normalcy of a business job. Work had been slow lately and very boring. More often than not people hired him to take photos for their weddings or graduation, simple stuff. Stuff that had him bored out of his mind. But there were no clients currently so until he got one he had all the time in the world to himself. Which he loved at first but now it seems he was falling into a bit of a routine.

Peter aimlessly wandered around the kitchen lost in thought, his eyes drifted toward the collection of pictures pinned to his fridge. There was a picture of you on there, from before you had cut him out of your life. Peter set the bowl down on the counter and gently lifted the magnet to pull the picture off. It was a polaroid of you two, You had your arms wrapped around Peter’s shoulders, hugging him from behind. His hands were resting on yours, you both were smiling, teeth missing.

This picture was from the first day of first grade. Even back then Peter had had some feelings for you. And the way his eyes looked at you and not the camera was proof of this. Peter ran his thumb gently over the faded picture, for a moment he let himself wonder about how you were doing, before he snapped himself out of it. He put the picture back in its place and picked his bowl back up. It was too early to be having thoughts like that. 

Peter yawned and lazily plopped down on his worn out sofa, flipping through the channels on the tv. There was nothing on, signing he threw out the rest of his cereal, it had gotten soggy while he was busy reminiscing. He dropped the empty bowl into the sink, only adding to the collection of unwashed dishes. He glanced over at the phone and the soft blinking of the red light, indicating he had voicemails he hadn't listened to yet. He knew he was going to have to take her calls sooner or later but right now he didn't want to deal with her. 

He headed to the park and decided to do some laps on the path, running always helped him to relax and clear his head. He always got stares and shy smiles from the women that were jogging, he found out that apparently the silver hair that everyone made fun of him for was very attractive to women now. Something he used to use to his advantage to pick up the occasional hook up.

After that he went to go get groceries and then played on his pacman machine until lunchtime. He totally knew how to spend his time. He made his way over to the kitchen and looked at all the new groceries he had bought. Twinkies, instant ramen, mac and cheese, he picked up the box of lucky charms, weighing the option of eating it for lunch. He thought better of it and put it back on the shelf, he really needed to eat healthier, god knows sooner or later his metabolism was going to give out.

He picked up the phone and placed an order form the Chinese place a couple blocks away, ordering way more food than he needed. That way he wouldn't have to cook for the next few meals. Peter was inherently lazy and cooking was not something he was very good at. So when he would he just ordered takeout and leftovers so he could eat them later. He hung up the phone and walked over to the fridge and took out the milk, drinking it straight for the carton, while he was doing that he heard a loud knock on the door. “That was quick.” The knocking continued non stop over and over, “I’m coming hold on!” He yelled out as he shuffled to the door and opened it peering through the opening that the chain allowed. “You know it’s rude to-'' The words died in his throat. There was a woman standing at his door, wearing a coat over her night dress. 

*******************************************************

You hadn't been able to pay attention to the briefing your boss gave, your assistant came in about half way through and handed you a small slip of paper. She said that she had found Peter’s address like you had asked. You had pulled her into a hug, creating an awkward tension in the room. The meeting had seemed to go on forever, and for the life of you you couldn't even remember what it was about. As soon as the meeting ended you had bolted out the door, ignoring the calls of your boss and colleagues telling you that work wasn't over yet. 

You had found his apartment after randomly asking strangers in the street which way it was. You were at his door, the number on it hanging lopsided. You began to rapidly knock until the door was pulled open. “You know it’s rude to-” 

He paused as he saw you staring at him. He furrowed his brows in confusion. “You’re not the chinese delivery guy.” 

You felt your eyes widen as you took him in. “Peter?” You asked in a small voice. 

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at you. “Yeah?”

 You let out a sigh of relief, smiling. “You’re tall.” You looked him up and down. “And you’re so handsome.”

His face turned red at your words. He didn't even know who this random woman was that was standing here, telling him he was handsome. He leaned against the doorframe, taking another drink out of the carton. “I’m sorry do- do I know you?” 

He watched your face fall. “You don’t know me?” 

“No?” He said, wiping the dribbling milk off his chin. Even after all these years his mannerisms were the same. 

“Wait! “ You said rushing forward. He jumped slightly at the sudden action. “It’s me, I saw you yesterday. Well I was thirteen yesterday so I guess it wasn't yesterday. Because now i'm old and I don't know where I am-” Peter watched you ramble on and slowly began to close the door. You continued on. “But you were there at my party-”

Peter paused, squinting his eyes and looking at you closely.. “(Y/n)?” He asked hesitantly, reopening the door as much as the chain would allow. “(y/n) (y/l/n)?” You smiled wide at him. 

“Yes! Yes it’s me!” 

Peter slammed the door shut in your face. You heard him unlock all the locks on his side of the door, when he was down he swung the door open. “Hey.” he gave you a small smile. You lunged at him and tackled him in a hug, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. He just stood there frozen, slowly moving his free hand up to awkwardly pat you on the back. “Come in I guess.” He muttered. 

You pulled back smiling at him. Even after all this time your sweet smile could make his heart skip a beat. You looked around his small apartment taking it all in. Peter did his best to kick discarded clothes into the closet, and keep you from seeing what a mess it was. You looked along his walls to see framed pictures of portraits and beautiful landscapes. “Are you still taking pictures?” You asked,

“Uh yeah, they pay the bills.” He quickly grabbed the pile of unpaid bills, stuffing them behind the couch cushion. “Usually.” He muttered under his breath. You were pacing around his apartment, in confused circles. He nervously rubbed the nape of his neck. “Hey, (y/n) I don't wanna be rude but why are you here?” 

“Petey I told you.” You said moving closer to him, he let out a little laugh. 

“Petey wow, no one has called me that in ages.” 

“Petey listen I came here cause something really weird is happening. Yesterday was my 13th birthday and then today I woke up and I’m this!” You said gesturing to your body. Peter tried his best not to look you up and down, he couldn't deny that you had grown up well. You were even more beautiful than he remembered. “And you’re that!” You said gesturing towards him. 

Peter looked down at himself self consciously. “Gee thanks. Do I really look that bad?” 

“No!” You quickly said. You felt yourself blush as you looked him over. His hair was tousled and messy, he was wearing an oversized  pink floyd crop top and from the looks of the hem it seemed he had made it himself. You watched the veins in his hands ripple and his arms slightly flex. “Uh you,” You let out an embarrassed laugh. “You actually look really good, like really good.” 

Peter flushed at your words and turned away so you couldn't see his blushing face. “Wow.” He whispered under his breath, he lifted a hand up to his face, doing his best to hide the smile that was forming. He turned back to and regained a serious composure. “Are you sure you're okay (y/n).” He took in your mismatched outfit and broken heel. “Are you high? Have you been smoking pot? Doing drugs, cause if you are I’m not judging as long as it’s just weed or something. Cause I mean I get it, I get stressed to and every now and then need-”

“No, no.” You said shaking your head rapidly. “Wait do you do-,” You lowered your voice to a whisper. “Do you do drugs Peter?” 

“No! No.” Peter shrugged. “Ehhh well not drugs, just weed.” He defended. But looking at your judgmental eyes he quickly continued on. “And I don’t, well I don’t that much any more. It was in college you know how it was.” 

“Actually I don’t.” You moved even closer to him. “Look, I was sitting in my closet, and I- I skipped everything. I can’t- I can’t remember my life.” Your eyes were watery as you started back at him. His heart ached seeing you like this. You continued on. ‘You need to help me remember my life.” 

At this he scoffed, and pretended to look around as if you were referring to someone else. “Me?” he said pointing to himself, letting out an airy laugh. “That’s rich.”

“What why?” He let out another laugh at your response, this one was dry. He looked at your face and saw that you weren’t kidding, you were serious about asking for his help.

“(Y/n) I can’t.” He was in disbelief, did you seriously have no idea what you had done to him. “I don’t know anything about you. I haven't seen you since high school.” Your face morphed into one of confusion. 

“What?” 

What he said next pained him, and he couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eyes. “(Y/n). We’re not friends anymore.”

You felt your heart shatter into a million pieces. “What?”

Taglist:

@lets-imagine-fanfics @steamboat-local @weasly-twin-simp

Let me know if you want to be added!!

#peter maximoff headcanon #peter maximoff x y/n #peter maximoff x you #peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff fluff #peter maximoff fanfiction #peter maximoff imagine #peter maximoff #quicksilver xmen x reader #quicksilver xmen #quicksilver x you #quicksilver x y/n #quicksilver x reader #quicksilver #evan peters #evan peters x reader #evan peters fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel #xmen fanfiction #xmen #ahs fanfiction #13 going on 30 au #13 going on 30

[slashersins]

Hi, I love your work, I do not know if it is too much to ask but could make my request if it is possible Brahms fall in love with The Os who is friends with Greta?Where the S/O went to help Greta in her work too and because she was worried about her sanity (she knows about the things that happened at the beginning of the film).Note: The S/O has a personality almost of a mother/sacred person (attentive, affectionate and patient will also buy from an angel).

this is . . . an amazing request . oh my god i’m so pumped , i’ll be more than happy to make this happen !

hi , I love your work , i do not know if it is too much to ask but could make my request if it is possible brahms fall in love with the s/o who is friends with greta ? where the s/o went to help Greta in her work too and because she was worried about her sanity ( she knows about the things that happened at the beginning of the film ) . note : the s/o has a personality almost of a mother/sacred person ( attentive , affectionate and patient ) .

saving grace . 

part one .

( part two )  ( part three )  ( part four )   ( part five )

greta needed you . plain and simple . you hadn’t wanted her to go to england . at least not alone , even if it was for a baby sitting job with amazing pay . it’s not that you didn’t trust her , you were just worried . she’d been through so much recently . and she was your best friend . so no sooner did greta call and tell you of her troubles did you bye a ticket and board a plane . greta needed you .

the happy , relieved laughter that left not only you but greta when she opened the door to you seemed to echo in the quiet of the estate . and oh , it felt like forever before you let go of hugging each other . but once you pulled away and took in the state of your friend did your inner mother hen come out . cupping greta’s face you looked over her , sighing and taking her inside . 

“ have you been sleeping ? eating ? what’s been going on ? tell me more about it ? do you think this place is haunted or that your just too lonely ? you should have called sooner , you know i would of been down here so fast . ” you may have no idea where anything was in this house , but that didn’t stop you from making yourself busy around the kitchen you stepped into with greta . the first thing in order was making food and something to drink .

greta couldn’t help but laugh as you fussed over her ,  it was refreshing after the happenings she’d been dealing with . and she relaxes for the first time in weeks , opening up with more ease than she could with malcolm about everything happening . 

“ and if i don’t follow the rules , it get’s worse . ” greta took on a nervous tone , glancing just outside the kitchen where a chair sat with the doll you’d yet to be introduced to . greta was nervous to even have him near you , but technically a rule was being broken , so you only hoped that introducing you to the haunted doll would help lessen the tantrum and disturbances to come . 

still fussing over the hot stove top , you hummed in acknowledgement , glancing back a moment to give a soft smile , “ then i guess i’m gonna have to follow these rules too ? since i’m staying . and i am staying . you’re not doing this on your own anymore , greta . it’s taking too much out of you . no if ands or buts , okay ? ” you try to follow her gaze , but your place in the kitchen didn’t allow you to see what it was your friend was looking at . 

“ you okay , greta ? ” the softness and mother like tone  of your voice caught her attention and she gave you a soft smile and nod . taking a deep breath , greta stood and walked over , giving your hand a soft squeeze . 

“ you’ll need to set the table for three . i’ll go get brahms . ”

believing in ghosts wasn’t something you stuck your nose up to . you never had your own experiences , and had always been interested in other’s stories . so you didn’t doubt anything greta had told you , but you also couldn’t say that it wasn’t some part of distress . either way , you’d trust greta , and treat this haunted doll with seriousness and respect . anything for your friend . 

“ y/n , this is brahms . brahms , this is my best friend , y/n . she’s . . . going to be staying with us for a while . . . ” greta’s voice was shaky as she held the porcelain doll in her arms , facing you . 

“ it’s nice to meet you brahms . ” you wiped your hand on your apron , cleaning it of cooking before taking the small hand of the doll and shaking it . “ i hope you like mac and cheese ! ” your smile went from the doll to greta before turning back around to finish up the dish .

the rest of the evening went smoothly . rules explained , the uneaten dinner left in the fridge for brahms . greta , holding brahms rather uncomfortably , showed you around the house and tucked him into bed with a good night kiss . the entire thing felt so forced , and you worried all the more for your friend . 

no sooner were you locked away in greta’s room and comfortable did the two of you jump onto the bed and cuddle . no doubt greta needed the affection and you were ready to smother her in it . it wasn’t long between talking and laughing and comforting that the pair of you drifted to sleep , unaware of the man in the walls watching with anger . 

brahms was angered the moment you’d stepped into his home . greta had only just started following the rules to the letter . and she’d broken them . he wanted to throw a fit . to come out of the walls and chase you away . even now as the pair of you slept in a tangle of limbs his desire to come out the walls and tear you two apart , jealousy fueling him . when he had finally had enough of stewing in his anger in the walls , he left . he’d find a way to get you to leave .

he was careful in how he acted , how he moved the doll around , how he misplaced your things or moved items when you weren’t looking . even going as far as doing so when you were both in the same room with your back turned . it unnerved greta , worried her to no end about your safety . it took no amount of cooing and calming on your part to ease greta . and though you were a bit spooked by everything , and most certainly sure that the doll was in fact haunted , you felt you were handling everything well . 

it got on brahms nerves that you didn’t seem as affected as greta had when he’d started acting up like this . every time the doll showed up in the same room , you’d smile and greet it , picking him up and letting him join you in whatever activity you were doing . if he moved things around you’d just sigh and ask brahms to please stop moving your things . there was even a time that you laughed and asked if brahms wanted to play hide and seek . it was irritating that you tried to deflect every move he made . even when the spent time tearing the kitchen apart . all you’d done was sigh , roll up your sleeves , and clean the room before setting down the brahms doll . you’d scolded him , punished him without dinner before bed .

it had completely shocked him . to be reprimanded in such a way . and never once had you raised your voice . he even felt shame at causing you so much trouble , and that shocked him . it even shocked greta when the next morning there was a small apology left outside the room for you .

“ he did it for me once . he left me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich after he threw a fit .does . . . does this mean he’s accepting you ? ” greta sounded hopeful , relieved . this was great . things would get easier now . in a way they already had been getting better and easier . and for once in a long time greta didn’t feel as scared . 

greta was so thankful of your presence . especially when you started taking over more duties for brahms , leaving her more free time to talk and flirt with malcolm . it was something that you encouraged , noticing how they looked at each other . it was time for greta to get back out there , and into a healthy relationship .

so when greta asked if you could watch brahms for a day , and possibly into the next morning by yourself , you’d been over the moon and excited . you spent time fussing over greta and helping her prepare for her date , all while holding brahms . you’d made her promise to text you and call you . which she jokingly responded to with a ‘ yes mom ’ that you’d both laughed at as you waved each other goodbye .

“ well brahmsy . . . it’s just you and me . wanna go read a book ? i’ll let you pick ! ” you smiled down at the doll in your arms , happily making your way upstairs to the library . “ what are you in the mood for today ? ” you bounced brahms in your arms , half expecting to hear a reply . sometimes brahms would speak , but he seemed quiet today . “ okay , brahmsy , i’ll close my eyes and you can pick out your book okay ? ” setting him in his favorite chair , you sat across from him on the couch , and closing your eyes . 

brahms should have been furious at how greta started ignoring him . he should have thrown so many tantrums . but you’d been distracting him . he wanted to make you leave so he could have greta to himself . she was supposed to be his . his parent’s promised . you weren’t supposed to ever have shown up . it broke the rules . and yet now , for some reason , you were the one he spent most of his time with . the one who followed all the rules . the one who started becoming more of his nanny and less of a house guest . 

so instead of getting jealous that greta was going out with the delivery boy and not taking care of him , brahms followed you into the library . carefully , oh so carefully , he moved out of the walls , going to the shelves and quietly picking a book . he re-positioned the doll holding the book before moving back into the walls . “ this one , please ? ” the child’s voice was clear , and you opened your eyes smiling at the doll . 

tugging the doll into your lap , you cuddle up and get comfortable in the couch . the book in your hands held so both you and doll brahms could see the pages . brahms was pressed against the wall listening as you read . sometimes you’d stop and ask a question about what he thought of the book . and he’d answer in his child voice , smiling to himself when you seemed happy with his replies . 

#brahms heelshire #brahms heelshire x reader #brahms heelshire imagine #slasher x reader #slasher imagine #slashers x reader #slasher #slashers #( asks / answered. ) #( there is going to be more ) #( i just have to take a break ) #( this is gonna be so much fun to finish ) #( thank you for this ask ) #saving grace

[poeticandors]

Cut to the Feeling Part 3

Poe Dameron x F!Reader (Babysitter!AU)

Summary: After graduating college and needing to have some cash in order to survive while doing an unpaid internship, Y/N decides to take up a babysitting/caretaking job. Little does she know that she ends up working for a familiar face.

Warnings: small mentions of smut, just little flashbacks really, and a ton of angst at the end

A/N: This is for @propertyofpoeandbucky Mystery Challenge! Thanks for waiting patiently, everyone! It’s been wild trying to figure out what to write but I hope this does justice. This one definitely got to me, and you’ll see why.

Part 1 Part 2

GIF by @captain-flint

Booster seat? Check.

First aid kit? Check.

Snacks in case Eva Bey gets hungry? Check, check.

You nod, double-checking the inventory again before finally closing the door. Today was your first official day, and you wanted to be prepared. You had to prove to Poe that you were the best choice.

Heading into the driver’s seat, you buckle up before you put in the address for Eva Bey’s school, and drive off. As you grip the steering wheel, your mind only wandered off. Was this a mistake? Did Poe make the wrong choice, hiring you? Did you make a mistake accepting the position?

No, none of this was a mistake. Sure, you may have slept with the guy who was now your boss, technically, but it was only a one-time thing. Everything had to be professional, which is how you would act when interacting with Poe. Every text between you was simple, it never led to a full conversation. Just simple directions and information that you needed. That’s all it was, and that’s all it needed to be.

Fuck, you taste even better, his deep voice rings in the back of your mind. You can’t help but think back to that night. The image of Poe kneeling on his knees in front of you as he throws your legs over his shoulders is clear as day. The way the light peeked in from outside and how his hands felt as they dug hard into your thighs, how his mouth felt—

Stop!

Shaking your head, you quickly think of something else. You really needed this job, and despite that one night no matter how amazing it was, you would not let that happen again.

Finally, you pull up into the pick-up car line and step out, taking a look around the school. Poe made sure to let you know the earlier you get there, the better chance of getting a good spot in line you would get. The parents can be very competitive, he told you.

You checked your watch, and realized you were right on time, so you started heading to the front office. As you look around, you notice just how much more lavish the vehicles in line were than your own. The front door had a buzzer that you hit to be let inside, and you noticed all the security cameras. This was definitely elite compared to the preschool you remembered going to.

Walking inside, you head straight to the front desk, spotting a receptionist. She gives you a friendly smile, leaning forward.

“Hi! Are you here for a pick-up?”

“Um, yes? I’m here for Eva Bey Dameron.”

“Oh, you’re the nanny, right? Mr. Dameron called and let us know you would be picking her up from now on.”

“That’s me,” you nod.

“Well, if I could see your ID please? It’s just a procedure when we get someone new for pick-up. I’ll copy it and put it in Eva Bey’s file.”

“Sure,” you reach into your bag and grab your wallet, pulling out or driver’s license to hand to her.

“Perfect, and if you can fill out this emergency contact form as well?” She hands you a clipboard. “It also asks for your vehicle information.”

“Okay, no problem.”

Just as you finish completing the form, she hands you back your ID. She then tells you which room Eva Bey is in and you make your way down the hallway.

The artwork displayed on the bulletin boards and the colorful decorations on each classroom door brightens up the hallway. Drawings, paintings, and even cut out projects fill each board. You finally make your way up to Eva Bey’s classroom, spotting a drawing of hers on the bulletin board. Smiling, you knock on the door before stepping inside, and see all of the children at their different stations.

A young woman walks up to you, a friendly smile on her face. “Hi, you’re here to pick up Eva Bey, right? I just got the call from the front desk.”

“Yeah, I am,” you shake her hand, giving her your name.

“It’s good to meet you. I’m Miss Connix. Eva Bey is just finishing up with her sensory station so after she washes her hands she’ll be ready to go.”

“No problem, can I grab her bag?”

“Sure, her cubby is over there,” she points and you nod in thanks as you go grab the small, pink backpack.

You hear your name being called in a small voice, and turn to see Eva Bey hurrying to you. Smiling, you kneel down.

“Hey, Eva Bey! Are you ready to go home?”

“Yeah! Will my daddy be there?”

“No, he’ll be at work, remember? It’ll be just us today.”

“Okay!” She turns to her teacher. “Bye, Miss Connix!”

“Bye, Eva Bey! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

She grabs your hand as you stand up, making your way to sign her out before you lead her out of the classroom. She skips along next to you as you lead her to your car, her dark pigtails bouncing at the top of her head.

After getting her seated in her booster seat and buckled up, you quickly move to the front seat and look back at her.

“I brought some snacks if you’d like,” you smile. “We have granola bars and some Goldfish.”

“Can I have some Goldfish, please?”

“Sure.”

Handing her a bag, she happily takes it before swinging her feet over the edge of the seat. Flipping on your Disney playlist, you begin the ride to Poe’s house.

++++++

The trip back home wasn’t too bad, you were lucky enough to get past most of the traffic. A lot of the drive was spent singing songs from some of Eva Bey’s favorite movies, and hearing about her day at school. She mentioned how they were working on writing their letters, and also showed you a finger painting project she did for the letter ‘e’, which she was very excited to show you.

After arriving at Poe's house, you both quickly settled down so she could relax for a bit. Then, it was on to practicing tracing her letters from one of the few books Poe had left for Eva Bey to work on to practice each day. You sat and helped her for the first portion of the page for the letter ‘a’ before she was able to independently do the motions herself. While she worked on that, you quickly worked on getting a few things done for the house.

After putting away the dishes that were left in the dishwasher last night, you went on to go ahead and wash the few that were in the sink. There was a basket of Eva Bey’s dirty laundry that sat in the hallway, so you took care to get that started in the laundry. After getting that taken care of, Eva Bey ran straight up to you to show you the letters she did by herself.

“Wow! Look at that! That’s so good, Eva Bey,” you smile.

“Can we play, now?”

“Sure, we can play a bit before I start cooking dinner.”

She smiles and takes your hand, pulling you to her bedroom. As you sit on the rug in the floor of her room next to the small table, she goes and grabs a crate filled with various Barbies and other dolls, and then another filled with small dress up clothing accessories like beaded necklaces and hats.

“What are we going to be playing?”

“Tea party!” She comes up, placing a necklace around your neck.

“You know what? I was definitely ready to drink some tea, too,” you laugh softly. Her smile brightens and she quickly starts setting up the table. “Are there going to be treats, too?”

“Well, there’s biscuits! And cookies.”

“Maybe one of these days we can bake some cookies, what do you think?”

“Can they be Snickerdoodles? Those are my favorite.”

“Sure!”

You scoot closer to the table as Eva Bey sits down, pretending to pour tea into your little plastic teacup. Propping your pinky up, you feign taking a sip as Eva Bey giggles. The game goes on, the both of you acting silly and acting out a tea party when you notice how quiet Eva Bey suddenly gets. She stares down at her lap, and when she lets out a whisper of your name that’s when you realize something might be wrong.

“Yeah, Eva Bey?”

“...Did you ever play tea party with your mommy?”

The question kind of catches you off guard, but at the same time… You always wondered why Eva Bey’s mom wasn’t present, but knew it wasn’t your place to ask about it. From the way Eva Bey looks up at you with her soft, brown eyes, you figure it’s probably a sensitive subject.

“Well, I don’t really remember playing tea party with my mom,” you start off. “But I do remember playing other games.”

She only nods, and looks back down at her lap. You figure that’s all she is going to ask until she sighs softly.

“I don’t have a mommy,” she says simply, with a mere hint of sadness laced. “I ask my daddy about it but he says he will tell me when I’m older.”

“Oh… well,” you scoot closer to her. “You know, Eva Bey, there are a lot of people who don’t have mommy’s.”

“They don’t?”

“No, and that is okay. I know it can make us feel upset, too.” You say softly. Eva Bey mutters something and you lean down towards her to hear her. “Hm?”

“Sometimes the kids at school talk about their mommy’s, and it makes me feel a little sad.”

“Well… that’s okay to be sad, sometimes. You know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you have a daddy and grandpa who love you very much. And you know that you can always talk to them about it, and they will always be there to give you hugs and kisses when you feel sad.”

You hope that this was enough for Eva Bey to hear— you were not expecting this to be one of the first serious conversations with the four year old. But when she looks up at you, the corners of her mouth lift up slightly.

“Yeah… they do love me a lot.”

Relieved, you let out a slight laugh. “I know they do. Very much. Do you feel a little better?”

Eva Bey smiles fully, a bright sight, and nods. “Yeah.”

You smile, and check the time on your watch. “Oh, we should start cleaning up so that we can cook dinner. How does mac and cheese with some broccoli sound?”

“Okay!” She quickly jumps up, rushing to put all her toys away. You can’t help but chuckle at the sight, and help her out before heading to the kitchen.

++++++

Poe stretches as he gets out of his car, inhaling the crisp, cool night air. Everything is quiet now, despite the few cars driving along the road, and he checks the time. Eva Bey should have been in bed two hours ago, and he hoped that was the case.

Poe wonders for a moment how your first day together went: if there were any issues or if you guys had a great time. You didn’t have to contact him, except to tell him that you both made it home safely, so that should have been a good sign. And he knew that Eva Bey was talking nonstop about seeing you again after the first meeting.

Poe was glad, though. He wanted her to get along with you. Eva Bey was usually pretty shy, but yet you were able to get her to open up to you after minutes of being with her. She asked Poe plenty of questions like if he knew your favorite color or anything else, which Poe of course could not answer. Poe realized he didn’t know too much about you, and the little he did know was only what he learned from the interview and… the night before.

The sounds you made as he pinned you to the bed and rocked his hips into yours were etched in the back of his mind. The way you gasped and threw your head back in pleasure as you dug your nails into his back while he rubbed his fingers against your sensitive nub is pictured clearly. He hadn’t been with anyone who made him feel that good in so long and…

He should not be thinking about that right now.

Poe shakes his head, and wipes his hand down his face. He needed to stop. Whatever happened wouldn’t happen again, and he definitely would not cross any lines that were made between you both.

He unlocks the front door and steps inside, hearing nothing except the slight sounds of your humming. He sets his bag down, and walks to the kitchen to see you sitting at the counter with a laptop and binder out.

“Hey.”

You quickly look up, smiling. “Hey, I didn’t hear you come in. Eva Bey fell right to sleep at eight.”

“Did she? That’s good,” he nods as he heads to the fridge.

“Oh, I… actually made you some dinner— well… I happened to make more dinner for myself then I meant to, so… I made you a plate.”

Poe watches you walk over to the microwave, pulling out a plate of food. Turning, you place it in his hands.

“I figured you would want something different then Mac and cheese and broccoli,” you chuckle. “But I wasn’t sure if you ate on the way home or not, so—“

“I didn’t. Thank you, I’m starving actually and this looks way healthier then a drive-thru burger.”

Poe puts the plate back in the microwave and warms it up, while you stand awkwardly in place wringing your hands together. You desperately want to bring up the conversation you had with Eva Bey, but that would mean possibly having to bring up a new conversation that seemed to be sensitive with Poe.

But when he glances down at you, and sees the look on your face, you figure it’s too late to turn back.

“Um… can I ask you something?”

“Sure, anything.”

“...What happened to Eva Bey’s mother?”

Poe sighs, rubbing his brow as the microwave beeps and he pulls the plate out. He grips the edge of the counter, looking down in silence, and you wonder if you just crossed a line.

“I’m sorry, it’s just… she asked me a question about my mother and then she told me how she doesn’t have one—”

“No, it’s fine,” Poe waves you off. “It’s just… I’ve been trying to come up with a way to talk to her about it. But every time I think I found a way, I look into her eyes and just…”

Poe trails off, and you silently rebuke yourself for not keeping this to yourself.

“Poe, if you don’t want to talk about it—“

“No, no, it’s okay. I… I need to talk about this.”

Slightly relieved, you nod as Poe pushes away from the counter and faces you.

“When I was a sophomore in college, I met this girl. She was pretty nice, and of course I was just a dumb college kid. So, we made up this… arrangement. We were usually careful, but one thing led to another and, well, she ended up pregnant.”

Poe scoffs, shaking his head. You waited patiently for Poe to continue, leaning against the counter.

“Of course, I was willing to start a relationship. I told her I wasn’t going to walk out on her, and I didn’t want the kid to live without both parents. I took her out on dates, planned everything for the baby with her. I thought… I thought things were going well. That she felt the same way I did for her, and god, I even think at one point I was in love with her.

“Well, I must’ve been blinded or something. Because after she gave birth to Eva Bey, and she was cleared from the hospital, she left with no word. There was no way for me to reach her— her parents lived out of the state and I didn’t have any way to contact them. She just… disappeared, and left me alone to care for our child.”

“Oh, Poe… I’m so sorry.”

“Yeah, well… as Eva Bey got older, I tried coming up with a way to tell her about her mother. She’s only ever asked a handful of times, and of course she is so patient. She just looks at me and nods when I tell her ‘we’ll talk about it when you’re a little older’. But I just… I haven’t told her because…”

Poe swallows thickly, and you swear that if the crack in his voice doesn’t make your heart ache, the next thing he says will.

“...What kid wants to hear that their mom didn’t want to be their mom? That they didn’t want to read them bedtime stories and watch their dance recitals and miss their tee-ball games? Or kiss them goodnight and sing them to sleep?”

And of course, you feel for Poe after he says this. How do you even come up with a way to explain all that to a child? How can you tell them without making it feel like they did something wrong when in fact they did absolutely nothing?

And just how can someone look at a child— especially one as bright and sweet as Eva Bey— and decide they don’t want to be in their life?

All of these questions roll through your mind and you just miss the slight sniffle coming from Poe. Glancing at him, you watch as he wipes away a single tear.

“I just… I love that kid so damn much. I want to give her the world because she deserves it. Because she is one of the sweetest, and kindest kids. And she doesn’t even have the luxury of having both parents in her life. Just me—“

“Hey, don’t do that,” you shake your head. “Don’t even think of putting yourself down like that. Eva Bey is so lucky to have you as her father. That little girl loves you so much, I can see it all around here: from all the photographs and drawings of you both to the way her eyes light up when she talks about you.”

Poe lifts his gaze at the time you stare directly into his dark eyes, making your point quite clear.

“And she knows how much you love her. So do not ever doubt that you give her enough when the truth is you give her so much and more. She is so lucky to have you, and you are the only parent she needs, Poe. If her mother doesn’t want to be in that sweet little girl's life, then she doesn’t know what she’s missing out on. Because even I saw just how special Eva Bey is from the moment I met her.”

Something flashes in Poe’s eyes— something that you have to tell yourself isn’t really there because if it was, then that would be bad. But you continue to stay silent, staring into his eyes as the ticking from the clock in the living room makes its way to break the silence between you and Poe. And just as he stares down at you, it’s almost as if… as if he—

Poe clears his throat, taking a step back. “...Thank you, for saying that. About Eva Bey.”

You almost don’t hear what he says, but you quickly nod in response. “Well, it’s true. She’s a wonderful girl, and I’m lucky to get to be here and get to know her more.”

“...She’s lucky to get to have you here, too. And… so am I.”

A small, sincere smile forms upon your face, and Poe returns it all the same. Before you can say anything further, you happen to catch the time on the stove clock.

“Oh… it’s getting late. I should… go.”

“...Right. Right, you should.”

Poe watches as you gather your laptop and binder, and stuff them into your bag. As you throw the strap over your shoulder, Poe nods and follows you to the door silently. He opens it, and the slight breeze from outside hits your bare arms and causes you to shiver right away. Poe pretends not to notice as he walks you to your car, and you glance up at him.

“See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Thanks for dinner, by the way. And for… the talk.”

“Of course.”

Poe looks as if he has something else to say, but hesitates, and instead bids you good night before you get into your car. You watch through your window as Poe makes it back into his house, closing the door, and you let out a sigh— the emotional exhaustion finally catching up to you. Running your hands down your face, you finally start the car and proceed on your way back home.

What a first day, you think to yourself as you turn off onto the main road. You were not at all prepared for any of that — for the few questions from Eva Bey to the long, heart-rending conversation with Poe. Eva Bey seemed to be fine after you were able to get her to eat her dinner and play a bit more before putting her to sleep. But Poe…

You think back to the way he looked at you— there was definitely something hidden beneath those brown eyes of his, but you didn’t know what that was. It was for the best, you figure. But still, you couldn’t help the way your heart raced against your chest as you think back to it.

Tonight definitely changed things between the three of you.

++++++

Tag list: @bellamys @liziihorta @woakiees @lizajane3 @danicalifxrnia @mrsdaamneron @spectre-leader @mystical-934 @atonemnt @shakespeareanwannabe @cyarikaaa @fandomtravels @someplace-darker @darksideofclarke @kittyofalltrades @galaxy-of-stories @thesoftdumbass @yougottakeeponkeepinon @obipoelover @none-of-your-bullshit @newyorksins @kittycatty072 @cheekygeek05 @mserynlarsen @loveboat

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x f!reader #poe dameron #poe x reader #poe dameron modern!au #poe dameron x you

[moccahobi]

The Slope Bunny [Taehyung x Reader]

Summary: You’re staying at a ski resort and meet an interesting slope bunny.

genre: slope bunny au, skier au, fluff

wc: 2.3k

warnings: none

ratings: E for everyone

a/n: this is my @castlebangtan​ secret santa gift for @tatastaetae​! I hope you like my trash lolol. But fr. I hope you have such a happy hannuka and a great December/January. I love you and appreciate you so much and am so glad to be in a net with you.

a/n2: I posted this yesterday but it isn’t showing up in tags! Here is hoping a repost will help it show up!

Crisp air whipped passed you as you zoomed down yet another slope, eyes slowly taking in your surroundings. Excitement and freedom swam in your veins as you quickly maneuvered around moguls, your poles helping to make the process 1000x easier. Occasionally you even tried your hand at jumping over moguls (mostly if you didn't have enough time to maneuver around them). Despite the below freezing temperatures, there was a thin layer of sweat covering you and soaking into your clothes. Not that it mattered. There was rarely a moment when you weren't warm while skiing.

At a small rest in the slope, you stopped and looked around as you caught your breath. You only had two hundred to three hundred more meters left in the run. All around you were frosty trees and zooming skiers and boarders, some of whom were even weaving in between the trees on small paths made from constant use. It was a magical place and a magical time when many people had retreated to eat lunch.

With a happy smile (hidden behind a neck scarf) and a shiver of excitement, you were off again, determined to make the last stretch be amazing. All too soon, you saw the end of the slope coming closer and closer, a small line already forming in front of the chair lift.

Swiftly, you slid into the singles line, passing at least two four person groups. It only took a minute before you, a pair, and another single were grouped together and made it on to a chair lift, your poles tightly held in your hands and your feet dangling in the air.

You were on number 75.

"So... are you all enjoying the slopes today?" A snowboarder asked, their voice muffled by the balaklava they were wearing.

"Oh totally! This is our first time coming here." One of the people in the pair said excitedly as they looked around, "And the weather is absolutely perfect for skiing and boarding."

"For sure. This is the fourth time I've come to this resort. My favorite slope of all is the Flume. It's on the other side of the mountain." The boarder said, one of the people in the pair nodding excitedly.

"Oh! We were on the Flume this morning! It was fun! Do you have any recommendations?"

"Hmmm... I really enjoy the slopes on the western side of the mountain. It's best to go in the morning though. The slopes get ugly in the afternoon."

"Oh! Thank you!"

After that the chair lift was quiet.  You were fine with that, instead spending the ride watching skiers and boarders zoom down the slopes below, many of whom were reenergized after their lunch break. At the thought of lunch, you felt your stomach growl. Despite you always making the choice to stay out until the lunch rush starts to break, it always shocks you just how hungry you get when it is time to go in.

Soon enough, you were preparing to get off the lift, adjusting your position on the seat and making sure your skis and poles were in the right position. You left the lift without saying goodbye to those you rode it with, knowing that you'd likely never see them again (or recognize them if you did meet them again), and started to skate your way towards the end of the snow.

Even as you made your way back to the hotel room you shared with your friend, Lillia, and hung up your wet snow clothes in front of a small fire, your mind was on the slopes, running through your next plan. Would you want to start with some scenic greens or go straight into blacks?

Would you even want to go back out after lunch? Or would you want to stay in and then go out for night skiing later when it got darker?

There were so many options and you felt somewhat torn with what to do.

Eventually you stopped running through the possibilities when you finished making a large pot of mac and cheese (one of your go-to meals when on a ski trip). You didn't even bother putting it into a bowl, simply taking the pot and a hot plate and situating yourself in front of the television to watch some random show while you ate.

Soreness from a fall you took earlier that day started to settle on you by the time you finished the pot of mac and cheese and a bottle of gatorade, Lillia coming in to nap at one point. Falls weren't uncommon. Especially as you tried to make jumps and took random paths in the woods so you were a little surprised to feel the soreness from a particularly bad fall earlier.

You hummed in thought as you started to clean up some of your dishes. The hotel you were staying in had a hot tub. Maybe instead of going out for more skiing while it's still bright out, you can relax in the hot tub, warm your body up and soothe the soreness you were feeling. Plus, it would likely be empty at this time since everyone would be out on the slopes.

Quickly writing a letter to Lillia who was still dead asleep and would likely cuss you out before falling asleep (only to not remember) if you tried to wake her up to tell, you changed and went off to the hot tub, excitement running through your veins as you did.

You quickly walked to the "spa" room (which was just a room with some lockers, a treadmill, and a bathroom that had a door to the hot tub). When you got there though, you felt a bit of disappointment. Someone else was in the hot tub. Someone else was in the hot tub. Some good looking korean dude was just chilling in the hot tub, his eyes slowly looking around and his mind somewhere else as he relaxed.

All too soon, his eyes landed on you, a small smile growing on his face as he waved you over. It felt strange to walk over to him and get into the hot tub, your mind questioning why he was being so friendly and also stuttering over how good the man looked up close. You blushed self consciously as you slowly got into the water, the man’s eyes moving to look elsewhere as he thought.

“So… are you a fellow slope bunny?” The man asked after a minute or so of silence, his voice surprisingly deep and smooth.

You laughed awkwardly and smiled, “No. I ski. Who did you come here with? A significant other?”

“No. I am here with my friends. They all board or ski and I don’t. I wanted to come though because we rarely see each other normally.”

You nodded slowly, “I get that. My friend and I are here but we are such different skiers that we don’t often ski together. So we really only are getting together again after we are both done for the day.”

After a little bit of silence, the two of you found a solid rhythm full of conversation fragments and having time to think on your own. It was nice and in the conversation fragments that you did have, you found yourself hanging onto every word that the man said. Before you realized, the sun had set and you needed to get back to your hotel room.

You sighed and entered the one resort's restaurants. It was a simple grill and all you wanted after a whole day of skiing was a little food and a warm drink before retiring for the night and sleeping for twelve hours. Your friend had gone to the hotel room an hour before you so once again, you were all alone. You sat down at the bar, next to a familiar looking stranger who was quietly sipping on some hot coco as someone next to her talked excitedly. Quickly you looked over at them before realizing, it was your friend. She was in a large yellow sweater, her makeup done wildly and her hair unkempt from being in a helmet all day.

"Lillia! Crazy seeing you here!"

She laughed and smiled with a nod, "I got a little stir crazy in the hotel room so here I am!" She looked over at the person next to her, "Taehyung and I were just talking about animals!"

"Hello!" Taehyung said in a deep voice.

Wait.

You recognized him! He was the dude in the hot tub!

"Oh! Hello again! I am Y/n! How do you two know each other?"

"We don't." Lillia laughed, "Taehyung complimented my makeup and then we just started talking."

"Yeah! What's your favorite animal? Wait! Let me guess... hmmm," Taehyung's face twisted as he thought and you laughed quietly, ordering a hot green tea from the person behind the bar.

"I know what this is, Taehyung. So I'm not going to help you." Lillia laughed and leaned back in her high chair, happily looking between you and Taehyung who was now pouting.

"Well that's good! I don't want to cheat with this! I get the feeling that... hmm... your favorite animal is a Gopher."

You laughed loudly at that and shook your head, "Pig. Has been most of my life. Why did you think gopher?"

Taehyung blushed, "You're cute like a gopher."

Lillia snorted and hid a laugh with a sip of her hot coco as she looked at you (who was blushing like crazy). At that time, your green tea came and you quickly took a sip, wincing as the hot liquid burned your tongue.

"You are cute." Lillia sang and winked your way, downing the rest of her hot coco and signaling for a check.

You blushed more, somewhat tired of your friend's flirty nature.

"Very."

Gosh! At this point, you were as red as a tomato!

You coughed, "I don't know about that. Taehyung... what is your favorite animal?"

"A squirrel! I just love how cute they are! And have you ever tried to chase them? They are so fun to chase... or watch really! I have this bird feeder that prevents squirrels from eating the seed and I love watching them try tirelessly to eat the seed! Even when I have a soot block for them to eat from as well." Taehyung laughed happily, his eyes glowing as he started to gush about the bird feeders in front of his apartment window.  

The conversation lasted for a long while, the topics occasionally changing but the energy and amiableness never changing. Even when Lillia left and you went onto your third cup of tea (along with an appetizer to eat) and Taehyung started to drink his fourth cup of hot cocoa. You'd had this fun with few strangers before and by the time the bar was calling last call and you'd had five cups of tea and Taehyung six cups of hot cocoa, you were leaving the bar with a blushing face and Taehyung's hand held tightly in yours. From a mixture of the cold and poor flirting, the two of your faces were bright read but you were more excited than ever.

In the stairwell on the platform that opened up to your floor (which apparently was below his) the two of you were standing like two excited idiots, neither wanting to leave first.

"I really enjoyed talking with you today..." You started, looking down at your entwined hands, your face heating up more.

"Yeah."

"Can I have your number?"

Taehyung giggled excitedly and nodded and gave you his phone. Even after you texted yourself through his phone, you didn't leave. You simply looked up at Taehyung and his handsome face, a giddy excitement filling you as you did so.

"Yeah!" Lillia's voice cut through the giddy trance both Taehyung and you were in as she excitedly broke into the stairwell, "I've been waiting for three hours, Y/n! We need to talk!"

Taehyung quickly glanced at Lillia before looking back at you, "Well..."

"Well..."

"I guess I'll see you around."

"Yeah."

"Omg. You are both such love sick babies!" Lillia cried, roughly grabbing your arm and pulling you along to your hotel room.

"So... what happened, Y/n?"

"Omg. I am not doing this with you." You groaned and fell face first on the couch, hiding your face in the cushions to hide from Lillia's barrage of excited questions.

After Lillia became too exhausted to continue asking questions and retired to her bed for the night, you found yourself texting Taehyung. Hushed giggles and large paragraphs of texts filled your night and it all surmounted when Taehyung asked you out for breakfast in his hotel room the next morning. It wasn't hard to say yes, even with the knowledge that Lillia was going to make fun of you skipping first tracks tomorrow for breakfast with a guy you just met a few days ago.

Sure enough, after Lillia squealed and jumped around excitedly about your date, she started teasing you to no end. Her eyes excited as she threw joke after joke. She missed first tracks herself to help you prepare and before you knew it, she was rushing you out of the hotel room to go meet Taehyung in the stairway.

"Hi." You said quietly when you saw him, too struck by how handsome he looked in that moment to say more.

"Hello."

#castlebangtan #wkcnet #btscreatorscorner #bts #bts fanfic #bts oneshot #bts one shot #bts fluff #bts skier au #bts slope bunny au #bts taehyung #taehyung x reader #bts v x reader #bts x reader #taehyung fluff #thebtswritersclub #btsguild #magicshopnet