#and i might make a mug cake. i’m hoping it tastes just as good with dark chocolate chips as it did with the milk

[fingertipsmp3]

Just did that fun thing of hyperfocusing and then remembering the rest of the world exists & immediately being hit with every status effect imaginable

[weirdgirl92]

Cuphead Season 1b episode ranking

Since this month’s batch of Cuphead episodes gave me a lot of mixed thoughts and emotions, I wanted to do something I’ve never done before on this site, and that is make a personal ranking list of all the episodes in this batch from most enjoyable to least enjoyable.

1.) Release the Demons!: This is where my personal bias really starts to show, because not only is this a Devil episode (my favorite kind of Cuphead episode), it also marks the return of King Dice, which I know a LOT of fans were looking forward to. Though, there are plenty of other reasons why I have this as #1. It has all the best jokes, we get a very cute flashback of baby Cups and Mugs, and GOD, that ending with Stickler was just icing on the cake!

2.) A High Seas Adventure!: Aside from Release the Demons!, this was the season 1b episode I was looking forward to the most, and it did NOT disappoint. It had Mugman being the secret badass that he always was, Captain Brineybeard was surprisingly entertaining, but the real star of the episode was definitely Cala Maria. She was always one of my favorite bosses from the game, and I LOVE how the show portrays her as a monster who openly embraces her beastly side, rather than the stereotypical mermaid we all came to expect from a kids show. Plus, her voice was absolute perfection!

3.) Jailbroken: This one is…pretty much your typical, standard “Hey, let’s bust out of prison” story, but there are 2 very big things that make it stand out: Mugman becoming friends with the prison inmates, and the MVP of the episode, Ms. Cyclops.

4.) Rats All, Folks!: I’ll admit, I never really cared for Werner Werman that much in the game, as he was just one of the least interesting bosses to me, but this episode succeeded in making me love him. The way he just Tom and Jerry’s his way out of everything until Elder Kettle shows up is peak entertainment. Also, Werner vs. Elder Kettle, we love to see it!

5.) The Devil’s Pitchfork: Now here we have the episode that got SO many fans excited for this half of the season in the first place. Unfortunately, I only have it ranked at #5 because of Netflix’s horrible marketing. Remember how the trailers for season 1b had this brief clip of Cuphead taking the elevator to Hell, with the pitchfork right behind him, implying that he was gonna rescue Mugman from the Devil? Well, it turns out that Netflix lied to us, because this episode, the VERY episode that they spoiled for us at the table read back in June, was pushed at the VERY END of this half-season, leaving us on another cliffhanger! Again, I’m only pinning the blame on Netflix here, because I know for a fact that the showrunners themselves never intended for this to happen. The episode itself is actually very good, it’s just the misleading marketing that left a bad taste in my mouth.

6.) The I Scream Man: This was Mugman at his most unhinged, and I’m all here for it, honestly. It is by far one of the craziest, and most hilarious episodes in the entire series thus far. Some people might find Mugman’s behavior in this episode a bit too mean-spirited or out of character, but honestly, seeing Mugman get back at that ice cream man was really satisfying for me, because the ice cream was just a creep.

7.) Sweet Temptation: Much like Jailbroken, this episode has a pretty standard story, one of those cautionary stories about self-control and stranger danger. However, I do really like Baroness Von Bon Bon as a villain and as a character in general, especially since the show gave her a mysterious backstory with her not being able to leave Sugarland, due to a “curse”. This was very interesting to me, and as a world building junkie, I’m hoping that we’ll get to see Bon Bon again and learn more about her curse next season.

8.) Charmed and Dangerous: This one was a little difficult for me to rank at first, because while I was happy to see Chalice again, I felt a little disappointed with the way they decided to skim through her potential character development with a nonchalant, half-assed apology to the Cup bros, even though last time we saw her, she had a very guilty look on her face when she ditched them at the cookie factory. Plus, she also sort of “lied” to them about the angry mob that was after her, which almost got them killed. Still, the ending was very sweet and heartwarming, and I’m glad we didn’t have to wait that long for Chalice to reveal her ghost form to the boys.

9.) Piano Lessons: I…really don’t have much to say about this one. I didn’t “hate” it, but apart from the unhinged Mugman stuff (which I like), it wasn’t all that memorable.

10.) Dead Broke: I’m sorry, but this one was kinda boring to me. It just felt like a weaker and less funny version of Ghosts Ain’t Real. I mean, no offense, but did we really need an entire episode centered around some random ghost vulture sisters? Again, this was a huge missed opportunity to develop Ms. Chalice’s character and her backstory, but hey, beggars can’t be choosers.

11.) Another Brother: Now, I did think the message in this episode was really nice, but….am I the only one here that DOESN’T care about Bowlboy as a character? I mean, he was funny as just a one-off character in Handle With Care, but him getting more screen time just feels so…forced, and out of place. Again, I don’t want to sound like I’m trashing the show runners, but I feel it would’ve made more if we had gotten an episode on one of the other Cuphead bosses, like Beppi or Djimmi, or even a flashback episode about Elder Kettle, or King Dice. I’m just saying it’d be nice…

12.) Lost in the Woods: Okay, I’ll admit, the beginning and ending of this episode were KINDA funny, but the stuff in-between was very boring and unfunny to me. Though, at least it wasn’t rage inducing like the next episode on this list…

13.) Say Cheese!: Look, I understand that some episodes of this show are gonna be less grand and less spectacular than others, but this, so far, is the only Cuphead episode that I legitimately HATE. Seriously, if there was one episode I wish to erase from my memory, it would be this one! Cuphead, Mugman, and Elder Kettle were all unlikable the whole way through, and that diaper baby subplot was just gross, because for me, it felt like weird unintentional fetish fuel. Also, minor nitpick, but why was Elder Kettle’s baby name “Little Elder Kettle”? That doesn’t even make sense! Did “Little Kettle” or “Baby Kettle” just not sound funny enough?? Don’t get me wrong, I still love this show with all my heart, I just…hope that they don’t make another episode like this one ever again.

[princess-of-inarizaki]

Hello, can you do Karasuno, fukurodani and Nekoma with a reader. She really love bake and making sweet, she usually bring cupcake, brownies, Daifuku,.. for the team but she always make healthy food for the team (because she know that too much sweet is not very healthy). She has a small bakery shop, she usually invite the team come and she never take their money. She is very small and always smile cutely (cute like u), she don't talk much but her voice is very cute UwU

Hello Anon-chan!! This is such a sweet and adorable prompt, and I'd be honoured to do it. I might even make this part of a series because I love it so much.

Thank you so much for the compliment. I think you're so cute too 👉👈💖

Is it okay if I add Inarizaki to this too? :D

Sweetheart Bakery manager-chan

Characters: Karasuno, Fukurodani, Nekoma, and Inarizaki

Warnings: none :D

Karasuno

I think our darling sunshine Hinata would be the one to recruit you. He goes to your bakery shop one day with Kageyama, after practice, and orders two chocolate cake slices.

As you're cutting and plating it, he curiously asks you which school you're from, which you answer with “Karasuno”

His eyes literally sparkle up so bright and he smiles. “I'm from Karasuno too!!” and he begins chatting with you about school and volleyball.

“Hinata boke, what's taking you so long?” Kageyama walks up to the counter to see you talking to his friend, and he blushes, apologising.

You smile and tell them to enjoy their cake, waving goodbye.

From then on, the team often comes to your bakery after practice. Hinata started bringing the other first years besides Kageyama, like Yachi, Yamaguchi, and Tsukishima.

“I'm telling you guys!! She has the best cakes, they make me go uwahhh all the team” says Hinata excitedly, the first time he brought them over.

Tsukki loves your strawberry shortcakes, and sometimes even packs some for takeaway. You smile at him, liking him instantly, and even share your recipes with him.

The first years think of you as an angel, and they're close to you in class because you're always so kind and gentle.

One day, Yamaguchi suggests you become a manager so you'll be able to keep Yachi company when Shimizu-san graduates, and spend more time with them, your friends.

You immediately agree, since you're fond of Yachi, and high-five Yamaguchi, excited at the new suggestion of joining the team.

The next day, you bring a box of macaroons to the gym and softly and politely introduce yourself to the other members.

The first years (with the exception of Tsukki) immediately run up to you and give you a huge hug.

Daichi smiles and thanks you for your kindness to his teammates, and immediately accepts you as the third manager of Karasuno.

The whole team enjoys your macaroons after practice, and Tanaka and Nishinoya are incredibly impressed, taking pictures of the pastry to send their "city boy" friends in Nekoma.

As a manager, you are always soft-spoken and the team adore you very much, similar to Yachi.

You're also always bringing them to your small bakery after practices so that they can have a slice of cake, or a daifuku after a hard training session.

You never accept their money, and with a small smile on your face, tell them to dig in, and enjoy the dessert.

The team adores you very much, and would never let anyone harm you. You can definitely rest easy knowing the third years are always there if you ever need anything, the first years to protect you, and the second years if you're ever feeling lonely.

Fukurodani

I feel like Akaashi would have the hugest crush on you. He stumbles upon your adorable and quaint little bakery by accident, and after a stressful day of practice, and he's so thankful to see this darling little angel bringing him a slice of cake.

You seem to notice him, a customer and classmate of yours looking so unhappy, so you join him at his table with a small mug of hot tea. “Are you okay, Akaashi-san?” you ask softly. He shakes his head, but he's so touched by your gesture.

He starts coming by the bakery more often, because you calm him down and radiate such gentle and positive vibes. He's also began to get closer to you in school.

One day, you stop by the gym where he's practicing with the rest of the Fukurodani team to pass him a small box of cookies. You're stunned to see an owlish looking boy, inspecting you curiously.

He suddenly breaks into a huge smile and shakes your hand. “Hi!! I'm Bokuto! Why are you here?”

You softly explain that you want to pass something to Akaashi, and when he sees you, his face turns red and he walks to you and Bokuto. Akaashi bows deeply and blushes as you pass him the box.

Suddenly, Konoha spots you and smirks. “Oh Akaashi, you've been hiding her away for pretty long, haven't you?”

You nervously explain that you were merely Akaashi's friend, and that you owned a bakery near school, where he met you.

The team's all gathered around you at this point, and they collectively gasp after hearing you say that. They're determined to make you their manager now, after all, you can bake and you're obviously so small and sweet.

“But Konoha-san, we already have two managers.” says Akaashi, in desperate attempt to dissuade his friends, but their minds seemed to be made up.

“Y/n-chan, if it's okay, would you agree to be our manager?” asked a hopeful Bokuto, and his earnest expression was something you just couldn't refuse. You nodded shyly.

Since then, the team are so excited to have a new manager. Whilst Yukie and Kaori handle the strategical aspect of the game, you tend to the boys' needs by managing their nutrition and morale.

You're always there to put a smile on their faces through your soft and gentle gestures, and you're one of the few people who can cheer up an emo-mood Bokuto, which makes Akaashi love you all the more.

You also bake the boys cupcakes and cakes all the time, but are careful to use different alternatives to sugar and other ingredients which shouldn't be eaten in access.

You are, after all, very health conscious, and you try your best to make sure the team always feel good and healthy.

Bokuto loves carrying you around, since you're so small, and Konoho and Komi often visit your bakery too, and help you out sometimes, since managerial duties have filled your schedule.

In general, the team think so highly of their small, sweet manager, and they come up with nicknames for her related to the things she bakes, like "cupcake" or "shortcake"

It's very cute, and when you blush, they laugh and ruffle your hair, loving her more.

Very wholesome and adorable, and (similar to most Fukurodani manager fics), you're part of their family now. They'd do anything for you.

Nekoma

I think you somehow accidentally became their manager. You walk into the gym to pass some papers to the coach and he mistakes you for the person who's going to become the new manager.

“Ah, I've been expecting you!” you smile and hand him the papers and he looks confused, “you're here for the position, right?” not knowing what coach nekomata meant, you nodded and he looked satisfied. “Kuroo will show you the ropes” was all he said before ticking something off in his clipboard.

You walk over to Kuroo, and the confusion further intensifies, as you realize there's been a grave mistake, but you're too shy, and Kuroo seems to be too excited at the prospect of having a new manager. He keeps ruffling your hair and saying “You're going to have so much fun with us, y/n-chan!”

I guess I'm the Nekoma volleyball club manager now. You think quietly, trying to map out a new schedule to fit club duties and your bakery duties.

You get better acquainted with the team, and they're all so excited to have you, with the exception of a blonde boy who looked tired and frankly looked like he couldn't wait for practice to be over.

You bowed and exit the gym, running over to your beloved bakery as you frantically checked your watch. The team was puzzled at your hurried actions, and curious.

“Maybe we should—”, “no.” interrupted an uninterested Kenma. “We shall not snoop into our new manager's personal life.”

Kuroo pouted, but knew his friend was right, and walked home with him quietly.

The next day, Kai came early for practice, and since you were already there too, offered to help you understand some of your duties, when an excited Yaku ran into the gym.

He wasn't present yesterday when you officially became the manager, but he was here today, and he stopped in his tracks when he saw you. “You're from the bakery, aren't you?” asked Yaku with a look of awe.

The team was extremely impressed at having such a capable manager, who knew how to bake, manage her own store, and undertake managerial duties.

Kuroo was all the more excited, and he follows you to the bakery whenever he can, sampling the cakes and cookies, and helping you bake, all whilst singing the dorky periodic table song.

You warm up to your new team slowly but surely, and as they start becoming such a huge part of your life, you can't help but appreciate them for their individual characters and quirks.

They too, fall deeper in love with you, and go out of their way to show you they care and make you happy. Each member of the team comes by your bakery at least once a week on different days, to keep you company during the evening shift.

I also think that Kenma would try to remain cold and unbothered with you, but deep down he loves it when you stroke his hair and bake him cookies.

Lev is your baby, and he follows you around partly because you smell so nice, and partly because he's addicted to the calming vibe you have to you.

Kuroo would be so addicted to holding you close to him and sniffing you, because you smell amazing. Like lemon, and sugar, and baked goodies from your bakery, he's practically addicted.

You bake them cookies for their team games and training camps, and they love bragging to other teams about how their manager is the best, and how her cookies taste better than ones from any store.

Manager-chan just blushes quietly, grateful for that one tiny slipup, and accident which led her to become the manager of this group of crackhead angels.

Inarizaki

I might just make this a series in the upcoming future because I love this prompt so much hhhh.

You're assigned to be Suna's lab partner in class, and he's pretty glad, because you aren't one of his fangirls, and you're always so quiet and smart in class.

You grow to be close friends with Suna, because he's quiet, just like you are, and you're comfortable being yourself around him.

He realises you own a bakery one day, and ask you if he could visit, and you're more than happy to agree. You bring him to your beloved bakery after school one day, and let him sample all your cakes on display.

He's quiet about his reactions, but his eyes are expressive and he widens them after each taste, showing you how much he likes it.

He starts spending less time with the team, in favour of helping you with the bakery. The twins are obviously not happy.

“Suna, what're ya hiding from us?” groans Atsumu, with a pout. “yeah, as dumb as he is, he's right. Yer barely spending time with us afta' school anymore” says Osamu, visibly upset.

Suna just reassures them that it's nothing, and the twins, definitely not believing him, follow him after practice one day.

They see him walk into your bakery, wrap his arms around a girl, enveloping her in a hug, and then waiting by the counter. So he had a job, then?

The duo causally walked in the bakery, and Suna rolled his eyes. “I'm just helping my friend.” he said, as he gestured towards you.

The twins finally get a chance to look at you properly, and they think you're so adorable! You have a shy smile, and beautiful eyes, they can't stop staring, feeling warm and happy themselves.

“Would you like some brownies?” you ask them in a soft and mellifluous voice. “I baked them today.” and without waiting for a response, you cut them two thick slices and expected them to try. Atsumu and Osamu were still speechless, and quietly munched on the treat, their eyes not leaving your face.

“Yer adorable.” was all Atsumu managed to say, before blushing a deep shade of red. Osamu elbowed him, and bowed, thanking you for the treat.

You assured them it was alright, and refused to accept their payment. The Miya twins were now genuinely convinced they were in love. You can expect them to be so fond of you, and try to convince you a thousand times a day to be their manager.

You disagree at first, worried that it might clash with your duties at the bakery, but the twins assure you they'll help you here, and so will Suna, which finally makes you agree.

To be honest, they all just really want to spend as much time with you as they can.

You meet Kita, the day you hand in your application, and he inspects you, finally deciding that you were perfect for the job. He welcomes you to the team, and as expected, the other members fall in love with you and your shy and generous personality right away.

Suna's always there for quiet times with you, and sometimes the team finds the two of you asleep on the bleachers together, his head on your lap, before practice starts.

Osamu loves sharing recipes with you, and making you things to eat in his bento box. “Y/n-chan, I uh, I happened to have two onigiris in my bento, would you like one?” with the sweetest smile on his face.

Atsumu loves carrying you around, since you're so small, and telling you cheesy pickup lines. Although he dismisses them as jokes, he's secretly hoping you'll realise he means them all. Very protective of you too! His fangirls don't dare hurt you, in fear of him.

Kita appreciates how wonderful you are, and finds himself thinking about the way you tuck your hair behind your ears, or look so focused when you're baking something, determined to do a perfect job. It's only when he's up till three does he realise he might be in love.

Aran is always there to help you carry anything, or lessen your burden with managerial duties. Although you've assured him countless of times that it's fine, he insists on helping you with anything he possibly can!

And finally, Akagi brings out the giggly side of you, which definitely flusters all the boys. Seeing their adorable manager giggling when Akagi is telling her a funny story? Priceless.

You always bring them baked goodies during practice and allow them to visit you in the bakery anytime they want. If they're not at the gym, they're definitely at the bakery. It doesn't matter to them, as long as they're near you.

Are worried to have you follow them on training camps, but you assure them it'll be fine, and always remain their comforting and sweet manager to congratulate them after good games, and comfort them after bad ones.

Each and every one of them love you with all their heart, and dedicate all their wins to you in hopes of making you proud.

Taglist!! ~ @k-sakusa-old @osamusriceballs

[awkwxrdapple]

Fallen Angel (Part 1) - Peter Parker x reader

Request: Hi! I love your writing! I was hoping you could do a peter x reader where the reader gets badly hurt and captured and it takes a long time for the avengers and peter to find her and once they do, she is scared half to death, jumpy, nervous, and stays by Peter's side during pretty much everything. They are living in the avengers tower with everyone and since they are the youngest, Peter is particularly protective of her during her recovery. Thank you!

Word count: 1.6k 

WARNINGS: mentions of anxiety, light torture, injury, trauma (after reading if you think I should include any others please let me know thank you)

Part 1

Simultaneously, you removed your headphones and slammed the textbook shut in front of you. Your assignments were getting tiring. It wasn't that they were hard and you were struggling, it was just that after being part of the Avengers, doing calculus and algebra seemed too easy for you. You could do it easily, but after all that you had done and seen already in your life, you knew your time could be better spent. 

Being the youngest Avenger alongside Peter Parker was exciting. You felt unbelievably honoured to be given the opportunity to be part of a team that did wonderfully amazing things. You had made friends for life, and most especially so with Peter. When you had come to New York you were enrolled into the same school as Peter. Midtown High was a good school and you enjoyed it, it also meant spending more time with Peter even though you both lived in the Avengers Tower now. 

Lying back against your bed you realised you were hungry, you'd been studying for what felt like ages. 

Knowing you had nothing sweet that you wanted to eat in the tower you decided that a quick trip out would let you get what you needed. If you were going to carry on studying you were going to need all the help you could get. 

Grabbing your purse from your dresser, you wandered down the corridor to where Peter's room was. The door was slightly open but you knocked anyway and waited for his reply. 

"Hey, I was just going to go to the store, do you want anything?" 

He, like you had just been, was sitting on his bed with papers strewn around him. When he saw you he gave you a warm smile. Having Peter living with you in the Avengers tower was amazing. Peter really was your best friend and you trusted no one more in the world. 

"I'm ok, but thank you. What are you going for?"

"Chocolate, ice cream, cake, anything." You said. 

"Homework giving you a hard time too?"

"Is it that obvious?" You laughed before placing your hand on the door handle again. "I'll see you in a bit."

"Bye Y/N."

Taking the elevator it didn't take too long to get to the ground floor and out into the centre of New York. You knew there was a little grocery store a few blocks over that made homemade chocolate cake. 

Unknowing to you, a set of eyes were watching you leave the tower, cross the street and make your way down the sidewalk. It was busy, and you were tired. Your instincts were slower and less aware of your surroundings. The one set of eyes soon became two, then three, then four. You were blissfully unaware of the imminent danger you were about to find yourself in. 

Taking a swift left at the next building you passed, your face collided with a hard arm and sent you stumbling backwards. Jolted out of your oblivious state, you raised your guard and lunged to land a punch square into your attackers chest. They struck back, using their larger build to throw their weight towards you forcing you to the ground. The air was knocked out of your lungs. 

Kicking back up from underneath them you tried to force their body off you, but they were heavy, and armed. You could feel a gun strapped to their hip pressing into yours. Rapid footsteps were heard around you as more people wearing a similar black combat suit to your assailant emerged and began to hold you down. You continued to fight in any way you could but soon all your limbs were rendered useless. 

"You're coming with us. Don't try to resist." A low male voice spoke into your ear as a cloth was placed over your face, a strong smell evaded your nostrils and then you relaxed back into the concrete. 

+ + +

Upon waking, you found yourself cold, aching and stiff. Your head hung towards your chest and a dull throb emanated from your forehead and rang throughout your skull. Your hands were tied behind you back and placed behind a chair, with your legs also tied to the chair legs completely restricting all of your movement. 

Fear and panic flooded through you and your chest became horrifically tight. The room around you was incredibly dim, with the only light coming from a single dull light bulb above your head. Feeling your breathing become hastened you remembered your training.

Don't panic. Be calm. Assess the situation.

The situation looked bleak. There were no sounds to be heard so you couldn't even begin to work out where you were being held. You remembered the last memory of being free, but couldn't place the people from anyone or thing you had seen before. 

You weren't kept guessing for long as a door creaked open to your left and two figures entered the room. The door was roughly closed behind them and a click of the lock was distinctly heard. You nervously swallowed and waited for one of them to speak. 

"We hope you aren't too badly hurt, Y/N." One spoke and made his way over to you. His voice was calm, and in any other situation you would have mistaken him for a nice man. 

"How do you know my name?" You ignored what he had actually just said to you. It was far more disturbing that your first name was known to these people. 

"That doesn't matter. We may know a few things about you, but you know much more than we do about things important to us."

"And those would be?"

The other man laughed coldly at your attempt to sound confident. 

"Your friends." The first man now knelt down a meter away from where you were sat. 

"My friends?"

"The Avengers."

To this you had nothing to say. You instantly felt guilt at being caught in this way, no other member of the team would be trapped like this. It made you ashamed. These people needed you for whatever heinous reason they had. 

"We understand you know a great deal about the runnings of that Tower, and of the inner workings of the group itself." The man continued. "We think you would be very useful to us."

"I won't tell you anything."

This brought a sigh from him. It was almost sarcastic. 

"We thought you would say that." 

He stood up and took a few steps backwards, allowing the other man to walk into your focus. 

"Maybe this will change your mind."

The first strike to your face stung. The next hurt. The third, numb. The intensity of the punch quickly removed all feeling. You could taste your own blood as your lip was cut upon the second blow. 

"It… it won't change my mind." You spluttered. Tears welled up in your eyes but you were not going to give them the satisfaction. You would never betray your friends, your family. 

"We shall see."

+  +  +

"Has anyone seen Y/N?" 

Peter was worried. You had left the tower four hours ago, and still had yet to return. 

"No I haven't, why?" Nat answered him as she wandered into the shared living room and kitchen space. 

Peter told her that you'd told him you were quickly going to the store and that you weren't back. 

"I'm sure she will come back soon. Maybe she ran into a friend?" Steve offered as he sat holding a mug of black coffee. 

"Yeah… you're right." Peter tried not to think about it too much. But after an hour or so that he hadn't heard you walk down the corridor, he went to check your room to find it empty. And he couldn't find you anywhere in the tower. 

Wanda gave Peter a small smile. She had seen how close you two had become. It was only natural that Peter was concerned. 

"If she isn't back tomorrow morning, we shall then worry, yeah kid?" Tony walked behind Peter and placed a brief hand on his shoulder. 

"Ok…"

The next morning resulted in Peter's worry increasing exponentially. He had sent you multiple texts and phoned you many times to receive no response. Usually you would let him know if you were staying with a friend. The whole situation seemed off. 

"Still no sign of Y/N?" Tony asked as Peter wandered through the kitchen on his way to school. 

"No. I am worried." 

Tony considered Peter for a second. 

"Come with me, I might be able to find her." Tony stated and headed for the elevator. "School is important, but it can wait."

Walking into one of Tony's labs, Peter realised he hadn't been into this one before. Tony tapped on a screen and brought up a map of New York on one of the monitors. 

"Mr Stark, what is this?"

"I regret not telling you sooner but I have tapped yours and Y/N's phones. So even when it's off, it can be tracked."

"You're going to track her phone?"

"I think that's what I just said." Tony raised his eyebrows. "Let's see if she still has it with her." He could see how upsetting this was to Peter. He began to wonder if you two were just friends, or something more.

After putting more information into the computer a yellow dot appeared on the map, quite far from the Tower, but still within the city. 

"Is that her?" Peter asked urgently. 

"It should be. I don't like the fact she's in a decommissioned warehouse though."

Peter suddenly felt a sudden urge to drop everything and run to you. 

"According to this, the signal hasn't moved in 12 hours." Tony turned round to face Peter. 

Peter's jaw was tight. Tony could tell he was ready to fight. 

If you would like to be in the tag list for part 2 or any of my other Peter Parker imagines please let me know! 

"Alright kid, suit up."

PART 2

Tag list: @unmistakablyunknown

Masterlist

[neonacity]

HYACINTHE | CHAPTER 4: JAEMIN X READER

SUMMARY: 

Na Jaemin is far from being your typical 20 year old. Instead of slaving through college, he wastes away his hours cracking safes. Weekends that should be spent partying with friends consist of illegal races on good days and small scale bombings on bad ones. 

Na Jaemin is far from being average, unless you consider being a member of Seoul’s top organized crime family normal. There is no such thing as a sense of normality and peace in his trainwreck of a life, so when he met a barista who was brave enough to call out his dangerous taste in coffee, he was like a moth to the flame. Everything about her is normal, which means she is forbidden to him, in all sense of the word. So why, then, does he always find himself at the front steps of her shop, breaking all his personal rules even if he wishes he could stay away?

A/N + Disclaimer: this is a side story to Black Daisies, my main mafia fic feat. 0T23. While the plot is based on the main story, this can also be read as a standalone fic. As usual, this is purely a work of fiction and in no way am I implying any member of NCT to behave the way I write them here. 

TW: crimes, heists, potential death, mentions of drugs and other illegal activities.

PAIRING: Jaemin x Reader 

CHAPTER 1 / CHAPTER 2 / CHAPTER 3 / 

FIC TRAILER

MASTERLIST

"Hi. Can I have one iced americano, no sugar, with an espresso shot, please?" 

 My hands froze and hovered momentarily on the drink I was preparing as I heard a male voice say that from the counter. I didn't turn around to check who it was, but my boss—who is currently helping me man the cafe today—was quick enough to dash the pit-pattering of my chest. He hooked the order slip on the board in front of me and my eyes immediately raised to read the name there. 

"One to-go, americano for Youngho." 

I sighed internally. Whether it be from relief or disappointment though, I don't really know. A part of me wanted to be in denial of my emotions, but I realized you can only go so far if the person you are trying to fool is just yourself. 

It's been almost three months since that night that I last saw Jaemin. I wish I didn't know the exact number of days that passed since then, but I do and I couldn't help it. Every little detail of what happened was still marked fresh in my mind, especially the feeling of hollowness that exploded in my chest when I woke up that morning to see them gone.

If not for the chip on the edge of the table left by Jeno as he tried to hold a half delirious Haechan down that night, I could have easily brushed off everything as a fleeting dream. But it isn't. It is a nightmare, at least in my part. 

He really meant it when he said he would leave me alone. 

There were no calls, no messages, no visits, nothing. It was like he didn't exist at all, the past year spent with him nothing but an imagined illusion. 

We were back to being strangers again, exactly like how he wants to. If you think about it, it's selfless of him to do this, but I hate it. I hate it with everything I have. 

Why? Because now I have to live through the feeling that I'm the only one suffering from all of that has happened. I couldn't watch the news anymore without thinking about him. For heaven's sake, I couldn't even get an iced coffee order without freezing like a statue because I remember him. I hate it. I hate every single moment without him, as much as I didn't want to admit it.

I placed the plastic cover over the finished drink with a soft sigh before turning to hand it over to the customer. At least I can still manage to put out my well-practiced, service smile. 

"Iced Americano for Youngho," I called out into the receiving area as I slipped a straw on the cup sleeve. A tall man looked up and walked over to me to receive it. 

"Thank you for coming to Brick and Beans. I hope you visit us again soon," I said in autopilot, my words so well-rehearsed that I didn't even have to think through while delivering them. The customer smiled at me before giving me a wink.

"I sure will. Thanks for this, sweet cheeks." He turned and left the shop, leaving me slightly confused. 

My attention was then called by my boss who had just finished wiping down the counter. The man—who really has been more of a father figure than an employer for me—gave me a warm smile and motioned me over. 

"Can we talk? I have something to tell you." 

I briefly glanced at the clock. It isn't my break time yet, but the store is empty so I guess it will be fine. I shrugged. 

"Sure."

"Grab a cake for you and me while you're at it," he nodded towards the pastry fridge before walking towards the nearest empty table. I wordlessly took two slices of basque cheesecake, his favorite, before following him. The man has a mean sweet tooth and we both know it.

He was silent for a little bit as he took the fork to take a bite of his treat. I waited patiently for him to speak, hands politely folded over my lap.

"I'm going to sell the cafe." 

I blinked and stared. I wasn't expecting that at all. 

"You're… what?" 

He sighed and leaned back against his seat. He looked a little sad over what he just said but he managed to offer me a small smile.

"I'm getting older. You know how much I love this place because I started it with my late wife, but I really can't continue to manage it anymore. My children, unfortunately, do not have any plans of continuing the business. And they've been asking me to retire, too." 

I nodded slowly, taking the news bit by bit. 

"Do you already have a buyer, ahjussi?" 

"I do. It is kind of strange, actually. Someone offered to buy off the franchise at such a perfect time. And for a very good price, too." 

That made me smile. I've had this job ever since I started college so it makes me a little sad that it's going to have a new owner, but I really am happy for him. I just hope whoever buys it off takes care of it really well. The old man loves this place to bits. 

I felt him take a hold of my hands from across the table. I looked up and was met with a fatherly smile. 

"Don't worry. You won't lose your job. The new owners said that they aren't planning to change anything here and I told them that they had to take you with them." 

That made me almost want to burst into tears. I squeezed his hand back in return. 

"Ahjussi... You didn't have to do that. I can always look for another job." Who am I kidding? I know it will be hard for me to land another sideline especially with all the financial hiccups I am already dealing with so this is really sending me over to the edge of tears. 

"Nonsense. You are part of this business. You've done so much for this place so you deserve this. Don't worry, they said yes to my condition." 

I gave his hands another squeeze and he answered back with a fatherly pat. 

"Thank you…" 

"You're welcome. Just promise me, when you become a doctor, you'll give me free checkups, okay?" 

"No, I won't. Because you will always be healthy and won't need my help at all," I said with a wrinkle of my nose. 

That sent the two of us laughing. 

"When will the new owners take over?"

"By the end of the month," my eyes rounded with surprise and he nodded in understanding. "I know, I know. It really happened too fast. I can't turn down the offer though. To be honest it was way beyond what the business is worth." 

I sighed. "Well… as long as you are sure about them." 

"I am. For now, I'll be here for a bit with you. I just need to enjoy my last days here. So just don't mind your old man, okay?" 

I grinned. 

"Only if you promise to give me a free cake every day you are here." 

He reached out to ruffle my hair. 

"Deal."

----

It was a slow day at the cafe so my boss decided to turn down the jazz music that usually floats from the speakers in lieu of the television volume. It was an odd hour in the afternoon and I found myself smiling as I watched him flip the channels over to look for a good show to watch while I dried some mugs. Just then, the overhead bell on the door dinged, welcoming with it a pair of uni-looking kids. 

My boss looked over, but I was quick to jump to action instead. "I'll take care of it," I mouthed to him, to which he gave me a smile before turning his attention back to what he was doing.

"Hi. Welcome to Brick and Beans. What can I offer you today?"

"We'll have one dirty chai latte and one irish coffee over ice. Make it to go. " 

The couple offered their names and I nodded as I punched their orders on my POS. "Would you like some pastries to go with that?"

"No, that's all."

"Got it, you can wait over there to the side. I'll have your drinks with you shortly," I said with a smile. The girl pulled the boy over into the receiving area to continue their conversation. 

"So what I'm saying is, we gotta go. Tonight is going to be epic. The bets will be high for sure. We can get some mean cash if we put it in the right car." 

The other gave a soft snort and started drumming his fingers against the wood of the counter. I let their conversation act as white noise while I worked behind the bar.

"I don't know. You're not even sure who is going to be there." 

"Jeno is in the line-up. That at least is confirmed."

I dropped the metal scooper I was using on the floor with a resounding clang. 

The three others in the room looked over to me as I hurriedly picked it up with shaking hands. I gave all parties a sheepish look before turning on my back to continue what I was doing. 

This time, I was full-on listening. 

"If Jeno's going to be there, then it is a goner. There's no chance for others. It'll be full-on suicide," the boy said thoughtfully. The girl, however, shrugged in reply. 

"They said the others might come, too. You know, to make the run a little bit more balanced," she offered. 

"You mean the seven?"

"The Four, at least."

"Oh shit."

"Uh-huh. So I'm telling you, we gotta be there man. If we can't bet then fine, but we have to see it. It’s been ages since they actually went on lane." 

I didn't really know how I managed to finish what I was doing, not with how hard my heart was beating in my chest. I'm not sure how many Jeno's there are in this part of town, but I am sure as hell that there is only one who is a member of a seven-piece 'group.' 

"Here's your order," I said thinly as I pushed the finished drinks over to them by the counter. The boy offered his card and I took it quickly, all the while thinking of what I should do next. The few seconds of me typing away at the terminal was the longest quarter minute of my life.

"Here's your receipt. Thank you for coming and see us again," I said, my voice a little weaker than usual. The couple gave a quick bow before turning to leave, drinks in hand. 

There are two ways this could go. I could let them out of that door and have my only possible chance of getting in contact with any of the boys leave with them. Or I could call after them and…

I whipped around to call out to my boss, my figure already halfway out from the bar. 

"Ahjussi, I'll be back in five minutes, sorry. I promise I'll be quick!"

He had barely looked up when I started running out the door.

-----

"Excuse me!" 

The duo looked back at me, then at each other in confusion as I tried my best to hurry up to them without landing on my face. God, why do they walk so fast? They were just a few seconds ahead when they left the shop! Thankfully, they stopped at my call, giving me a chance to skid before them as I tried to catch my breath.

"Um… Is there a problem? We paid, right?" The boy asked me with an odd look. I waved my hand before finally trying to answer. 

"Yes. I uh—"

Well, I obviously didn't plan this out clearly. How do I say this now without sounding like a lunatic? 

"I heard your conversation earlier. You were talking about Jeno."

The pair exchanged glances again, this time tinged with suspicion. It was the girl who answered this time. 

"Yes, we were. What about it?" 

"I… I just want—to maybe know where he is? You were talking about tonight's—"

"The drag race?"

I stopped for half a heartbeat before nodding. 

"Yeah. The race. I wanted to come, too, but I don't really know the address." 

The boy cocked his brow at me in blatant suspicion. It took all of me to pull out all the basics I learned from drama class back in high school to remain calm before his withering glare. 

"You know Jeno but don't know the address? That doesn't make any sense," he said as he crossed his arms over his chest. "If you've been in one before you should have been included in the text blast."

Oh shit. 

I could feel my palms growing cold from nervousness. Still, I tried pushing on. 

"W-well, I was invited before by one of them. But then things fell apart and I started not getting any of the...texts anymore," I said, not having the slightest idea of what I am saying myself. What's ironic though was that what I just blurted out was sort of a half-truth, too.

Apparently—and miraculously—it also made sense by the look of understanding that dawned on their faces. 

"I see…" the girl trailed off. She cleared her throat and looked at her friend before glancing at me again. 

"Look, I can give you the address, but promise me that you never got it from me when someone asks, okay?" She asked. The boy looked at her incredulously.

"Are you crazy? She was already shadow banned!"

She shushed him and waved her hand off to shut him up. "Look, this is a girl thing. Don't mess with it. Just go ahead to the car, I'll take care of it." 

He scoffed but stalked off towards the direction of the parking lot. 

She turned towards me again and pulled her phone from the pocket of her leather jacket. I watched as she unlocked the screen before showing it to me. 

"Do you have your phone with ya? Here, take a photo of this address." 

I swear I could almost kiss her. I scrambled to get my phone from my back pocket and didn't waste another second to take a snap of her screen.

"Thank you so much." 

She nodded in understanding before locking her phone again and shoving it into her pocket. "Hey, a girl's gotta stand up for another. Who was it? Was it Haechan?" 

"Um…" 

She didn't wait for me to finish. 

"Really, whoever it is among them, I can't really blame you. They're all cute, but they do need to be taken down a notch when it comes to girls. Those boys," she tsked. "Dangerous." 

Oh…

Oh. She thought I was an ex-fling who wanted to teach one of them a lesson by crashing the race. I let that sink in before a frown settled on my features. 

Well, aren't you one? The devil on my shoulder cackled at me sardonically. 

"Glad to have helped though. But remember, you didn't get it from me, okay?"

With a wink, she strutted off, leaving me staring at her retreating form. 

----

I told myself I simply wanted to see him again. 

I reminded myself that for the hundredth time tonight as I parked my car on a free space by a gravel road, my eyes roaming the darkness beyond. The place looked deserted, and I had to do one last check if I really put in the right coordinates on my map before finally turning off my engine. The road beyond was wide but uncemented and to its left is a half unfinished building with metal banisters reaching out to the sky like skeletal arms. I swallowed. Every little thing about the space beyond screams danger.

Which probably means I am in the right place. 

I reached out to zip up my jacket and pulled the hoodie over my head before getting out of my car. My sneakers crunched on the gravel as I made my way towards a low wall circling the building beyond. 

Just try and take a look. You don't have to talk to him. You can keep your distance. 

I repeated that in my head again and again as I approached what I assume to be the entrance. A part of me still wants to berate myself for doing this but I am too far gone to try and play the denial game again. I want, no, I need to see Jaemin's world.

The moment I passed through a crack on the wall, it felt like I stepped into a different world. It opened up into an even wider area, the shadows of a multi-lane road behind the abandoned building beyond. Milling around is a throng of people, some smoking, others sipping on red cups on their hands. Some cars were parked against the wall I just passed, their headlights on with music booming out of their rolled down windows. 

I tried to swallow the lump on my throat as I looked around. Already, I felt out of place in the crowd, but I steeled myself to push on, my hands digging deeper into the pockets of my jacket.

"Hey." 

I looked up to see a boy around my age wave at me. He was also holding a red cup and what looked like a bundle of paper. My eyes widened as that came into focus when he got closer. 

Money. 

Wads and wads of cash. 

"You put your bets already?" He asked as he stuffed the bills into a small belt bag hidden beneath his oversized shirt. He pulled his phone out then, unlocked the screen, and looked at me, waiting for an answer. 

"Uh…" 

He gave me an odd look.

"Who are you betting on?" He asked again. 

I gave the first name I could only think of. 

"Ja-Jaemin," I stuttered.

That earned me a low whistle from him as he typed away at his phone, probably to record my choice of 'player.' "I don't know, man. Dude seems pretty out of it lately, but whatever floats your boat." He stuck out his hand to me then, and it took me a few seconds to realize what he was asking for. 

"Oh," I scrambled to grab my purse. I was in the middle of pulling my card from my wallet when I saw his face. Slowly, I put it back to reach out for bills instead. 

"Cash only." 

I sheepishly handed him the last few hundreds I have. He took them, expertly flipping through each bill to count them off. 

"First time, eh?" 

I nodded. 

I watched as he slipped the money into his already overflowing belt bag, thinking that he would leave after that. Instead he nudged his head towards the direction of the building and motioned me along. 

"Come on then. At least try and get a good look at your first race." 

I blinked in confusion but ran after him as he started walking away. 

We stopped at the front row of the half ring of people that had already gathered in front of the abandoned rafters. Just then, a huge spotlight shone over the road behind it, driving everyone to erupt in cheers. Parked in a single line at the foot of the road are five cars, headlights opening one by one.

"Jaemin's the yellow one," the boy nodded towards the one occupying the third lane. I stared. I know next to nothing about cars, but I know enough to be sure that none of the ones in front of me now are something you can buy from your run-of-the-mill auto dealer. Lowered, with shining reams, and a low motor hum that reverberated to where I was standing, I could only briefly compute in my head how much each of those customized rides must have cost. 

I heard the boy beside me snort amusedly. "Your first race and you get to see this. I'm telling you, this happens once in a blue moon," he said with a smirk. I didn't say anything, my gaze never leaving the yellow car. 

Slowly though, I noticed the crowd's noise die down dramatically the same time that a petite form walked out from the building. The woman stopped in the middle of the road and raised her hand into the night sky, a small pistol in her grasp.

Everyone has gone so quiet now that you could almost hear a needle dropping. Just then, the resounding bang of a gunshot pierced the air. Few other large spotlights turned on simultaneously, revealing the snaking road ahead that was disguised under the darkness earlier. I gasped. The roaring sound of engines blared beyond and with a new uproar from the crowd, the cars were speeding ahead, leaving trails of light in their wake. 

My heart was beating so hard against my chest as I tried my best to follow the speeding cars ahead. I was only able to comprehend the real expanse of the road the moment each ride took over its lanes—the place looked more like an abandoned air dock field more than anything else. I was barely aware of my nails digging on the palms of my hands as my eyes switched from Jaemin’s car and the others, particularly on the deep red one that he was currently toe in toe with. The space between the two were a hair’s breadth away and I could almost swear their sides would collide any second. 

That went on until a curve on the road appeared. It was the last turn before the finish line and the crowd turned wilder as the nose of each car tried its best to take the lead. I didn’t even realize that I was holding my breath until the last second when the yellow one took over the inner space of the road before swerving successfully ahead.

Everyone around me erupted in cheers. I gave my own gasp, hands covering my lips before joining the rest.

Jaemin’s yellow lambo parked on the finish line, the rest of the race participants trailing behind. I watched as his door opened, revealing his beautiful wide grin and tousled hair. He was glowing, cheeks flushed from the adrenaline. I was so caught up in the image that I barely noticed Jeno appearing from the red car, followed by Renjun, Mark, and Haechan from the other rides. 

I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but I watched with a smile as they huddled over Jaemin, playfully pushing and cajoling him for his win. They looked happy, carefree.

But it seems like they aren’t the only ones who were out there in the road. My gaze moved back to Jaemin's car when I saw his passenger seat open. As if in slow motion, a girl got out of it, wearing the same wide smile the others have. The group hooted at her as she joined their huddle. 

That’s when I felt as if time has stopped.  

The smile on my face slowly faded as I watched Jaemin wrap his arms around her before pulling her into a tight hug. 

---

A/N: Hey guys! This is going to be the second to the last chapter of Jaemin’s side story! I originally wanted to finish it in one go, but I thought it would be nice to release the epilogue on Nana’s birthday! So yes, that’ll be out on the 13th, lol. Thank you so much to those who have continued reading this side fic! <3

Chapter 5 (END)

Taglist: @negincho​, @springdaybreaks​, 

[clarawatson]

It Only Takes A Taste (3)

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x [Fem]!Reader (GN pronouns, fem coded stuff, but I’m not sure where this is going as a larger work so we’ll say Fem!reader to be safe) Summary: Jack comes for dinner, I guess. W/C: 2345 Warnings: none yet! A/N: this one got a little long, oopsies. AO3 Where am I in this series? 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 |

The bed had been so warm and comfortable you hadn't wanted to get out, but the thought of seeing Aaron again made your heart grow three sizes. You'd been texting back and forth for the last couple of days, just small awkward stuff. He likes to text emojis. He's precious. Of course he's precious. 

He comes in as you're serving your first customer of the night—a sobbing thirty-year-old man who can't even order his pie without spluttering in tears. Is it favouritism to get excited by Aaron turning up? Yes. Is it worth it? Yes. 

"Hello," you smile. There's a hundred things you could have called him, but he's too cute and your brain doesn't want to work. 

"Hi," he grins back. "Can I have a coffee, please. Here."

"Yes you can." Aaron splits his bill between the counter and the tip jar. "How was your day,  Aaron?" 

"Boring paperwork. Couldn't concentrate."

Concern furrows your eyebrow. "Is something wrong?"

"Huh? No! I kept thinking about seeing you." There's that sunshine smile again. You might even match it yourself. He points to the cake that's still in the display tin. He's in earlier in the night than usual, so there's a lot more range to choose from. "Is that carrot cake?" 

"Sure is. Do you want some?" 

"Please." 

You serve him a slice and let the coffee machine splutter and fight with you. He stabs his cake with his fork and looks like he has an out of body experience the moment the cream cheese icing hits his tongue. That's a face you want to see again under different circumstances.

"Joe?"

"Me! And Joe's recipe. I sort of mixed it together and prayed."

"Then mark me a religious man." Aaron smiles. You can't held but smile back at him.

"It's a bit early for you to be in," you say. It's not an issue, just means you got the earlier shift. Finishing at 1am instead of 7am. Plus, Aaron looks nice in the daytime. Very nice. The afternoon light suits him.

"Didn't have a case," he shrugs. 

You've googled him since getting his business card. “Supervisory Agent Aaron Hotchner, Section Chief of the BAU”. The fuck did that even mean? BAU was the Behavioural Analysis Unit, which was still mainly a mystery, but you think it’s maybe just an over-glorified way of saying ‘they look inside people’s heads and hope for the best’. He’s got a handful of news reports that you’ve practically memorised. 

Okay, that’s a little obsessive. Don’t admit that to him. 

He wasn’t the ‘untouched by darkness’ that you’d thought of him before, his work face held all the darkness his smile did not. You hoped you never had to see the serious man who stood before the cameras. 

“How’s Rita?” Aaron asks. He’s cut the top off his carrot cake, saving it for later. He looks at it longingly every now and then, then he scoops just a little bit of the cream cheese and lets it rest on his tongue.

“She’s good. Restless. She’s happy for the due date to arrive.” She’d also asked you to be the baby’s godparent. Rather forcefully, actually, it had felt a bit strange. That was the only reason you hadn’t jumped at the opportunity. You’d do anything for Rita, but saying yes in that instant would had felt strange. Almost… wrong, maybe.

Aaron knows you’re thinking about it. He puts his fork down and shifts in his chair, waiting for you to continue. He doesn’t fill the silence between the two of you. You think about telling him, but then Lola’s bustling through the door and grabbing her apron.

“Hot stuff, when can I go for a smoke break?” is the first thing Lola says to you. She pulls chewing gum out of her mouth (yes, pulls. She sticks her fingers in her mouth and pulls it out as far as it will go without snapping) and Aaron moves his cake around his plate a bit. Does he not like it? Don’t be silly, he asked for it. Requested it. Whatever. You put his three cookies into a plastic bag and slide it across the counter to him.

“Lola you only just came in.”

“But I want to know,” she whines like she’s a teenager with an after school job, not a thirty-five-year-old woman who works at the diner full time. “Hey, Rita’s been acting weird, right? Is that a pregnancy thing, or?” Lola rubbed her nose on the back of her wrist and sniffs. An action you’re all too familiar with by now, and of course she was doing illegal substances in the bathroom before she started her shift when there’s a legitimate federal agent in the diner.

 “Oh,” Lola says as she looks at Aaron. She looks at you, raises her eyebrows, and nods like she’s impressed. “I take back telling Rita she was a liar." Even without knowing the context of Rita and Lola's conversation, you know Rita had told Lola how pretty/handsome/gorgeous Aaron is. "I’m going to go clean some tables.”

She grabs the cleaning supplies and heads out into the dining area. The door swings open, banging against one of the booths, and you’re immensely glad Lola doesn’t scream 'watch it’ at them. A curly haired blonde woman (gorgeous, mind you) touches Aaron’s shoulder and he sits up straight, smiling, and your heart plummets a little bit. Just the tiniest amount. 

“Jack insisted we switch over here before I go to parent/teacher interviews.” As if on queue, a well mannered, sandy-haired boy sits next to Aaron and grins too much like Aaron. Aaron’s son. You can put two and two together. Profiler or not.

“How was school?” Aaron asks. Jack shrugs.

“It was school.” He learnt that from his dad, there’s no question. 

“Well, in that case. Jack, this is my friend Y/n. Y/n, this is Jack.” Jack extends a hand to shake in greeting and looks really shy about it. You shake it quickly so he doesn’t feel like a kid who’s been roped into doing adult things. There’s a pile of colouring-in pages Joe’s printed off at the local library beneath a cup of crayons that Jack’s eyeing off. 

You grab a sheet and a crayon, raising an eyebrow in invitation as you turn around to Jack. 

“Yes please,” he says, grin growing across his face. “Thank-you.”

“You’re welcome. Wonderful manners.” Jack grins even bigger and you think he, too, might combust just like his dad. Stardust! That’s the movie you were thinking of. When Yvaine sees Tristan she shines, literally, the star inside of her just can’t be contained. That’s Aaron and Jack, and the way they look when they smile. 

Aaron’s sister-in-law looks at you with a cocked head, like a curious cat. Like she’s waiting to pounce. But… curiously pounce. Like she's sussing you out. She extends a hand in greeting.

“Jess. Aaron’s talked about you.”

There’s no response but to look sheepish. This seems to greatly please Jess, who smiles softly and rubs the back of Aaron’s head affectionately. They have a long history together, it’s too familial to be just a relationship born through marriage. 

“I’ll see you later then, Rockstar,” Jess says.

“Bye,” Aaron and Jack say together. Aaron rests his cheek on his hand, watching you as Lola hands you three orders she’s taken while you’ve been talking to Aaron. Jack leans over and whispers to Aaron about his homework (it’s a whisper that belongs on a stage) as you wrestle with the coffee machine. 

It’s been grinding it’s way down to not working for a while now. Ever since you met Aaron, actually. Joe’s said he’s going to fix it, or get a new one, but everyone’s in a state of non-commital until Rita has her baby.You’ve got no idea why, it’s just the way things are. Good luck, maybe? Or luck in general? 

Somehow you get Aaron talking about Shakespeare. It might have been Jack’s doing, to be completely honest, but one moment you’re trying to make the froth… well, froth… and the next you're listening to Aaron talk animatedly about Othello. Jack's young enough to not think his Dad's passion is embarrassing. 

"Have you watched Othello?" Jack asks, a question that Aaron's neglected to ask you. "I'm not old enough to yet." 

"I haven't seen that one yet, but I've seen Much Ado About Nothing."

"Is that the one with the olive gardens?" Jack asks. Aaron frowns, eyes searching for the answer in that big beautiful minds tonight.

"Yes," he says finally. "That was the one with the olive trees."

Jack giggles. "There was kissing in that movie." 

"Lots of it," Aaron agrees. You're not sure you're talking about the same film, but it's cute to see the two of them interact. 

"With the guy who plays Lockhart in the second Harry Potter movie?" You ask. Jack laughs just like his father. It's all light and mirth. He nods in confirmation. 

"His name is Kenneth," Jack says like he's familiar with him. When Aaron smiles, you know Jack's his whole world.

It’s not long before Aaron realised he’d brought Jack in without asking if he wanted anything. The afternoon rush had died down, leaving you in the space between out-of-work and dinner. You make the most chocolate-y hot chocolate you can for Jack when Aaron says he can have one. Well, Jack says the best bit is the froth, so it’s more child-size-hot-chocolate-in-an-adult-mug-full-of-froth. Jack loves it. He slurps at the chocolate, which leaves a giant frothy mustache over his top lip that won’t go away no matter how much he licks at it.

When he’s done you let him come around to the kitchen to wash his face, because no amount of wet napkins is going to fix that mess. Jack can’t reach the sink, so you fashion a step out of old milk and bread crates. Joe gives him cake batter to taste before realising that he actually has no idea who Jack is. Aaron watches from the kitchen door with a smile on his face. You don’t catch it until Jack jumps off the crates and takes your hand, leading you back out. Aaron’s fingers brush your hand as you pass him. Electricity sparks between the two of you that's completely unavoidable. The two of you recoil involuntarily.

Aaron gives you a small smile of apology. You give exactly the same one back. Lola legitimately gasps like she too felt the electricity between the two of you. Surely that was just something that happened in movies? Or in books? That’s not a real thing, right? But Aaron brushes past you again, as if he’s making sure as well, and it’s there again. Only it’s like your whole arm becomes pins and needles, not just a quick lightning spark.

If it’s like that every time you’re with him, your not sure you could even go beyond lusting after him and giving him coffee and meals every now and then. Aaron drops his gaze, then follows Jack to the front of the counter. 

They stay for dinner (because Jack insists, he wants the nachos) but the rush comes early and there’s really not much time to talk to them, so you almost miss them leaving. Almost. You’re serving the angry couple at table three (are they angry at you, or each other? Who knows, you don’t, but they’re taking it out on you) when Jack taps your hip. 

He’s very patient as you finish the order (somehow you figure out what they want between the curse words) and bend down to him. He hands you a folded piece of paper.

“This is for you,” he says. “I did it.” You’re about to unfold it, but he insists that it belongs in your apron pocket until you can look at it with no rush. That’s a kid who knows what it’s like to have a very busy parent. So you tuck it away safely and mess with his hair, which makes him grin from ear to ear.

“See you later!” Jack yells as he runs to Aaron, who’s waving goodbye with a doggy bag full of Jack’s unfinished dinner.and his keys between his fingers. 

“I’ll see you later,” he mouths as the noise in the diner starts to rise. Without thinking you blow him a kiss, which he catches effortlessly and kisses the fist closed around it before slipping out. 

When you get to the kitchen Lola’s already in the midst of teasing you. 

“You like him,” she says with all the confidence in the world. There’s not point denying her, so you just nod. It’s met by a chorus of ‘ooo’s which, to be honest, you really didn’t need. It made the diner feel far too small.

When everything dies down you remember the paper Jack had given you. You wipe the milk and spaghetti sauce off the counter, then make sure it’s dry, and unfold Jack’s page. It’s the generic colouring page Joe’s printed out, but Jack’s tried to make the generic waitress look like you. Well, you if you had purple hair and green skin. It’s a start, you guess, there’s an apology from Aaron on the back. Makes it worth it.

You move a couple of postcards on the corkboard aside and put Jack’s picture there instead. Joe pretends not to notice, but when Lola goes out the back with one of her customers, Joe comes round the front and presses a finger to the page.

“Good kid,” Joe says. He nods a couple of times then turns to you. “You know he and his dad come as a package, right? You fuck up one, you fuck up both.” Joe’s first wife had three kids that weren’t biologically his. He’s still mad at himself for not taking the kids seriously and only turning up for their mom.

“I know,” you say. 

Joe strokes your cheek as he passes and kisses your forehead. It’s all the praise you need. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[eyayah-oya]

I’ll Hold You Tight, Now and Forever

Waxer/Boil Rating: G Inspired by @cacodaemonia latest artwork

           Waxer loved mornings.  He loved waking up and getting to see the sun rise and he loved breathing in the fresh, crisp air as he went on his morning run.  Even the cold mornings filled him with a quiet joy that he’d so rarely felt before in his life.  Maybe it was the idea of new beginnings or fresh starts.  Maybe it was the way morning always invigorated him. Part of the reason Waxer loved mornings was definitely the way Boil always grumbled, his hair an absolute mess until he managed to wake up enough to get ready for the day.  Sleepy Boil was always clingier in the mornings, and Waxer never hesitated to let him cuddle in the mornings.

           Still, there was a lot to do today.  The entire town of Nabat had volunteered to help Waxer and Boil plan their big day, which was more than welcome since nearly a hundred vod’e were arriving throughout the day.  Cody and Obi-Wan would be first, as they had volunteered to help set everything up and organize sleeping space for all of the visitors.  If anyone was qualified to handle the logistics for a group that large, it was former High General Kenobi and Marshall Commander Cody.

           With a yawn, Waxer stretched and reluctantly untangled himself from Boil’s warmth.  Boil would need to get up soon, but it didn’t hurt to let him sleep in for a little while longer.  Since the war ended, he took the time to sleep in as often as possible and could be as grumpy as Commander Cody without caf in the mornings.  It was ridiculously adorable, not that Waxer would ever say that out loud.

           Waxer leaned over and gently kissed Boil on the forehead and then got dressed in his favorite sweater.  Numa’s aunt had made it for him when they first arrived on Ryloth, and it was the softest, warmest thing he’d ever owned.  Once he’d gone to the refresher and brushed his teeth, Waxer walked up the stairs and into the kitchen where he immediately set about making a pot of caf and some breakfast.  (Waxer was quite proud of the fact that he had finally managed to learn how to make a few meals for Boil.  He didn’t really care what he ate, but Boil loved how food tasted.  It was important that Waxer knew how to make at least a couple of things that were tasty.)

           As he moved around the kitchen, Waxer hummed the song that they’d been learning over the past few weeks just for today.  Apparently, it was an important tradition for the Twi’leks. Waxer just felt honored that they considered the two of them close enough to be allowed to perform the kind of ceremony that Twi’leks held in such reverence.

           “Is that caf?” Boil’s grumpy voice called from the stairwell.

           “Yup.  It’s nearly done, and so is breakfast.”  Waxer set two plates of flat cakes drizzled in a sweet fruit sauce on the table just as the caf maker chimed.  He turned to retrieve two mugs from the cupboard, only for Boil to come up behind him and wrap him in a warm hug.  Boil slowly ran his palms up and down Waxer’s arms, soothing and perfectly warm.  He couldn’t help but lean back against Boil’s chest, melting at the soft, tender intimacy of the moment.

           “Morning,” Boil rumbled as he pressed his nose against Waxer’s shoulder.

           “Good morning,” Waxer said with a soft smile.  “Made flat cakes.  They’re on the table with that syrup that Numa likes so much.”

           Boil merely hummed and squeezed him a little tighter. Waxer turned his head just enough to brush his lips against his temple.  Not many people got to see Boil this affectionate or vulnerable, especially in the mornings, and Waxer treasured every second he got to spend with him.

           “Do you want your caf?” he asked, reaching up to comb his fingers through Boil’s hair, messy from sleep.  Boil allowed the touch, melted into it even, as he nuzzled Waxer’s shoulder.  He wrapped one arm around his waist, while the other rested on Waxer’s hip, drawing him closer and half-turning him towards Boil.

           “Later.  Just wanna hold you a bit longer.”

           Waxer could only smile and revel in the close contact. They wouldn’t have any time to be alone together until that night once Numa and her aunt and uncle arrived.  They needed to savor the quiet while it lasted.

           It was moments like this that Waxer had come to treasure the most since the war ended.  Never had he expected to be able to stand in a kitchen he owned along with Boil, swaying gently as Waxer hummed quietly.  They got to see Numa every day and had found a family with her aunt and uncle and the rest of Nabat.  And later today, Waxer and Boil would get married in front of their new family and their old one using both Mandalorian and Twi’leki traditions.

           “Are you ready for today?” Waxer asked once he finished humming the traditional wedding dance.

           Boil reached up and pulled Waxer’s hand from his hair, tender and caring and so full of love that sometimes, Waxer thought he might cry from it all.  With a lingering kiss on his shoulder, Boil raised his head and pressed their temples together. “Absolutely.  Do you think Numa will agree to add a little charm representing her to our Kalikori?”

           “I hope so.  Nilim said she would be “indescribably happy” and would probably “jump off the walls in her excitement”, so I think she will,” Waxer answered, attempting to mimic Nilim Bril’s voice as he quoted Numa’s uncle.

           Boil snorted, though whether he was amused at Waxer’s impersonation or the very adorable image of Numa vibrating in place as she attempted to think of something to add to their kalikori, Waxer didn’t know. Nor did it really matter.  All that mattered was that Numa had convinced Waxer and Boil to get married and the day had finally arrived.

           “Did you ever imagine that we could have this?” Waxer asked after a moment of simply being.

           “We’re clones, Wax.  I wasn’t sure we would even make it to the end of the war.  But when you talked about wanting colored pillows and a tooka and to see Numa again, I started to want it just as much as you did. The wedding stuff came outta nowhere, though.”

           Waxer laughed.  As clones, weddings had never been an option, so they’d never even thought about getting married when they’d finally been recognized as citizens and given the same rights as everyone else in the Republic.  Not until Numa asked if he and Boil were married and then promptly began to plan their wedding when they said they weren’t.  There was no stopping Numa, and he and Boil weren’t even going to try.  Besides, the ceremony would be touching if what Numa’s aunt said was true.  And it was always nice to see Cody and Obi-Wan and countless others.

           Turning fully in Boil’s arms, Waxer kissed Boil, lips still curved with joy-filled laughter.  He pulled away and bullied his soon-to-be husband over to the table.  “Eat up.  The flat cakes are probably cold by now.”  Waxer filled their mugs with caf, fixed perfectly to their tastes, and sat down across from Boil.

           Before they could start eating in earnest, Waxer reached across the table and squeezed Boil’s hand.  “I’m glad we’re getting married,” he said softly.

           Boil returned the squeeze and there was a soft look in his eyes that never failed to make Waxer melt into a puddle.  “I’m glad, too.  We would have been together anyway, but this somehow makes everything seem more real.”

           “More like we’re people and can have a chance at a peaceful, normal life,” Waxer nodded.

           A knock thundered through their small house, and Waxer immediately got up to go let in Numa, her aunt, and half the town elders. He murmured a soft “I love you” against the side of Boil’s head as he passed, and then their day went from peaceful to chaotic in preparation for their wedding.  Waxer couldn’t help but beam.

             (A newly fashioned kalikori sat on their bedside table, two small pieces of armor hung from the arms.  One had a stylized Kom’rk class Mandalorian fighter painted, with the rest of Boil’s batchmates’ names etched around the design.  Waxer had added his own batchmates and the various squadmates they’d lost over the years.  Men they’d gotten close to and considered brothers.  Connected to both pieces of armor and dangling below was a tiny tooka charm, painted the same shade of green as Numa’s skin.  A perfect representation of Waxer and Boil’s family, past, present, and future.)

[sunlightandsuffering]

I LEAVE FOR A WHILE AND I HAVE SO MANY UNREAD BESTIES TO LOVERS ANONS!!! Imma answer them when I get back from boating but Jfc y’all want this AU bad so here, theres no smut per se but this is the first part of the first chapter from Mikasa’s POV I hope I characterized her okay, I’m trying to stay true to the collective vision 😂

So without further ado Besties to Lovers 💕💕

Her and Eren have always been friends, but she wants the benefits, God does she want the benefits. She’s nineteen, in her second year of university and she’s still a virgin and has done absolutely nothing outside of kiss a boy, and that boy was Eren, in the eighth grade. Meanwhile the very object of her affections has a new girl in his room every fucking night. She doesn’t understand where he gets his stamina from or where he finds all of these girls.

They’ve been best friends since the third grade when he forced her to eat a mudpie because he told poor sweet naïve Mikasa it was chocolate cake. When she’d cried after having her face shoved into the mud, he’d told her to suck it up before giving her the lollipop from his lunchbox as penance. She’s loved him ever since.

And unfortunately, his selfish antics have only gotten worse over time.

Mikasa is aware she’s unbelievably sheltered, it’s not something new to her, that’s what happens when you live with three ex-cops for most of your life and the only friend, you’re permitted to hang out with on a continual basis is Eren. As a result, she’s spoiled rotten and she loves every moment of it, especially when it’s Eren doing the spoiling, but she’s trying her best to be less sheltered! She even finally got a job recently and Eren had told her how proud of her he was.

The job might also be part-time at Levi’s mechanic shop but well a job is a job it doesn’t matter if she got it through nepotism.

She’s excited about it, it means she gets to see Eren even more than usual because he works there part time as a mechanic while he puts himself through medical school.

She knows logically she should be fed up of the boy she’s spent almost every waking moment with since she was seven, but she’s not, she loves living with Eren.

He spoils her almost more than Levi, Hanji and Kenny do, which is impressive because they’re all a little crazy.

She’s also a little in love with Eren if she’s being entirely honest with herself, she lives for when he calls her ‘baby’ and his fingers trail up her thighs and he pinches the curve of her ass, telling her the gym is paying off. He’s always touch, touch, touching every part of her he can get his hands on and she loves it.

Once, Jean had tried to have her sit on his lap too when Eren hadn’t been around and although she’d felt a little weird about it, she’d complied because well he was her friend and it was okay when Eren did it, so why not Jean?

Eren had not been pleased.

Mikasa hadn’t liked it either if she was being honest, it wasn’t the same, he didn’t hold her the same way Eren did and she didn’t have the same pleasant little flutter in her tummy the way she did with Eren when his hands would dip between her thighs and along the seams of her underwear beneath her flowy dresses.

She always felt happy and warm whenever Eren touched her and if she ever felt uncomfortable he’d stop, but he was also more than happy to soothe her back to happiness, he’d kiss her neck or tell her how good she was being for him and she’d be content once again.

Sometimes she’d wriggle around in his lap and he’d hold her tight, and give her a little nibble to her ear as warning. Sometimes she’d heed his warning and sometimes she wouldn’t but when she didn’t that’s usually when Eren would take her home and she loved being alone with him much more than at a boring party while he flirted with a bunch of girls.

When she had him entirely to herself, that was when she was most happy. But these days it wasn’t often, it seemed somehow her best friend had become even more of a man whore since she’d moved in. It’d been a year and still he hadn’t cooled down, he had more sexual partners than an emperor with a harem, it was ridiculous.

The revolving door of girls was getting old for a variety of reasons, not the least of which was that she was fed up of having to explain where the coffee was as the girls pranced around their kitchen in underwear and Eren’s t-shirts. It was irritating, they didn’t understand that she would be the one to make Eren coffee or tea in the morning and that she had exclusive access to his wardrobe. The pretty blonde bitch she was glaring at right now should NOT be wearing her favourite t-shirt.

She sullenly continues to steep Eren’s tea for him, knowing he’ll need the caffeine when he wakes up while she watches the pretty little blonde march around their kitchen like she owns the place. She grabs all of Mikasa’s iced coffee ingredients from the fridge, drowning two cups of scalding hot coffee in sugary sweet. Syrup, whip cream, sprinkles, everything Eren buys Mikasa because he understands her ice coffee obsession. Meanwhile Mikasa knows for a fact Eren loathes the stuff, he tells her it’s too sweet all the time, making faces every time he steals a sip, as if it will taste different than the last time he drank it. He always gives her little cheek kisses after, awfully close to her lips or on her nose, tells her she’s sweet enough for him, that he doesn’t need anything else.

And without fail she’ll squirm and blush under his praise just like she always does and he’ll get that look in his eye, the one that’s dark and hungry that she knows usually precedes some manhandling. A slap to the ass, a pinch to her waist, something that allows him the excuse to touch her and she lives for it, sometimes if she’s really lucky he’ll tuck her into his lap and let her drink the rest of her coffee from her favourite seat there.

She’s startled out of her thoughts as the blonde girl drops two spoons onto the counter and they clatter against the marble with an angry noise, leaving spills of coffee in their wake.

“Can you be a doll and clean that up for me?” Platinum blonde asks her before she picks up both mugs and starts towards Eren’s room.

Mikasa frowns but wanders towards the sink to grab a washcloth for the mess.

Platinum blonde doesn’t make it two steps out of the kitchen before Eren’s bedroom door opens and shuts and he’s wandering into the open expanse of their kitchen wearing nothing more than a pair of plaid pyjama pants and rubbing his eyes.

Mikasa smirks at the sink, now is her favourite time of the morning, when Eren will kick out the little blonde rather brutally.

“Eren, hi!” The girl tells him breathlessly, and Mikasa turns to watch her hold out a coffee, “I made you a coffee, wasn’t sure what you liked.”

Shit, Eren’s tea! Mikasa drops her wash cloth and quickly removes the tea bag from Eren’s typical Earl Grey, thankfully it’s not too oversteeped. She wanders to the fridge to grab the cream, pretending not to be gleefully listening to the conversation next to her.

Eren takes the coffee from the girl, looking down at it as if it’s going to explode, sprinkles and chocolate shavings floating around the milky brown mixture. He raises an eyebrow up at the girl before placing the coffee on the counter, “Thanks, but I don’t like coffee.”

The girl’s eyes go a little wide and she places her mug on the counter as well, “Oh I didn’t know, tell me what you do like and I’ll make it for you, I wanted you to have a little pick me up, you know after last night,” She sends him a little smirk as she finishes her sentence but Eren remains looking unimpressed.

“I like tea, but don’t worry about it, I already have some being made right now, isn’t that right Miki?”

His eyes finally slide to hers and as usual her heart skips a beat as those intent viridians watch her so intensely, all of his attention is on her, he pays absolutely no mind to the blonde girl as he makes it to her side in a few steps.

She nods softly, she doesn’t want to reply, not in front of this girl, she’s too shy, it’s why she’s barely said three words to her yet. She hands Eren his cup of tea and he grins mischievously at her, before taking it from her hands. He winks at her before leaning in to kiss her cheek, murmuring into her ear softly, “Thanks Miki.”

Shivers erupt all over as his breath hits just under her ear, where he knows she’s most sensitive.

He pulls away and she’s left wide-eyed as he steals his tea and turns back to the blonde girl.

“Sorry what was your name again?”

The blonde’s face scrunches up in irritation, “It’s Katrina.”

“Great, Katrina I’ll walk you out.”

He takes a sip of his tea before leaving it on the counter and grabbing Katrina by the arm and dragging her towards his bedroom. They stop briefly to grab Katrina’s things before making their way to the door, Eren likely hoping to avoid her impending meltdown.

Mikasa doesn’t see it but she hears the irritated whines that turn into pleads as Eren tells the girl not so gently, to leave. The door slams and she hears footsteps as Eren follows the girl outside. Mikasa may or may not scoot a little closer to the main hallway and press her ear to the door to listen.

“But we had such an amazing night—”

“It was okay.” Eren throws in his two cents and Mikasa fights to keep in her giggle, this is her favourite part of the mornings, it’s almost worth all the pain of the night before just for this.

“What do you mean, it was amazing, Eren I think we really have something, it was so amazing—”

“Listen, I don’t do relationships, I do one-night stands and that’s it.” Eren tells Katrina firmly and Mikasa gives a little fist pump, damn right, she never sees the same girl twice and she’ll never admit how happy that small tidbit of information brings her. If he’s going to have someone else, at least she knows he has no feelings attached to it. The day he gets a serious girlfriend is the day her heart really breaks.

“What about the girl in there, Miki you called her, don’t tell me you’re not fucking her.”

Mikasa is shocked, her cheeks turning red at the assumption, how vulgar.

But also a small part of her wishes Eren was, ‘fucking’ her that is. She’s a virgin, completely innocent in every conceivable way, she’s never even touched herself, nineteen and still totally clueless with all things sex. It’s not like she hasn’t considered it or wanted to try before, she’s not a prude, she just has no idea where to even start.

Not to mention, ANY male love interests are squashed like bugs the second Eren gets wind of them, and if it’s not him it’s Levi, Kenny or Hanji.

But lately she’s considering at least buying a vibrator or something, maybe taking her own virginity, Sasha and Annie never shut up about it, she’s curious about what all the fuss is about. Every time she moves her fingers down her stomach, she heats up a little, blushing bright red and wondering if it’s wrong, if its weird.

She usually makes it to the line of her panties, concentrated on trying to figure out what she should do and imagining what she thinks will turn her on, and of course it’s always Eren. Always, always him. Unfortunately, that’s usually where her fingers stop because she feels awful, dirty for imagining her best friend touching her, thinking about his large frame looming over hers and laying kisses on her lips instead of her cheeks. Eren would never want her like that, she’s not his type, small blonde, perky and experienced. No bad Mikasa! She cuts her thoughts off before they can descend into negative territory, she’ll never have Eren romantically but at least he loves her platonically and she’ll take what she can get.

“Leave.” Eren tells Katrina in a tone that brokers no argument, the one he reserves specifically for people who insult her, and it happens often when his one night stands see a girl in Eren’s apartment that’s not them, the jealousy is real. However, what they fail to realize is that she is the one girl he actually gives a shit about, she has a special place reserved in his heart as his best friend, and all the sex in the world has nothing on that.

She continues to listen, waiting for more, but this one surprisingly kicks up little fuss and the next thing Mikasa knows she’s scrambling to move away from the door as Eren opens it, falling swiftly onto her ass in the foyer.

Eren raises his eyebrow at her as he shuts the door, leaning back against it, arms crossed and still delightfully shirtless. Looking up at him, he truly is an attractive figure, arms corded with muscle from working with cars all day, handsome chiselled face with a slit in his right eyebrow and a few tattoos placed randomly along his arms. Mikasa, understands better than anyone why girls flock to Eren like moths to a flame.

“Watcha doing down there love?” He asks, his tone deceptively sweet, she knows he won’t be happy she was listening in, especially since the other girl sort of insulted her. She plays dumb, or attempts to at least.

“Just cleaning up,” she grabs a shoe from the shoe rack next to the door, “Wanted to make sure everything was in order.”

“Uhuh,” he says doubtfully, crouching down to her level where she’s splayed out, legs askew and leaning back on her hands.

“So you were’t eavesdropping on me outside?”

She looks away, she can’t lie to him, she’s terrible at it, he knows all her ticks, and she always inevitably caves and tells him anyway.

“Miki,” His voice is chiding, a hand coming up to grab her chin and turn her in his direction. Her full bottom lip sticks out in a pout as she confesses, “I just wanted to know what you’d tell her, she wasn’t very nice to me.”

He leans in closer, edging his way into her personal space and she’s forced to lean back further on her hands as Eren kneels over her, placing his own hands on her thighs, his face getting closer and closer to hers. Her breathing comes quick as his face finds her neck, “You’re not being a very good girl today Miki. My tea was a little oversteeped and now this,”

She gasps a little, her heart thundering in her chest, theres that phrase, ‘good girl’, every so often Eren slips it into conversation and she doesn’t know why but she absolutely loves it, she adores it when he praises her. She wants to hear him say it all the time, wants to be his everything, wants to be the best.

And sometimes she’ll hear him whisper it to the girls he’s fucking, their bedrooms are right next to each other and the walls are paper thin, how could she not? And those are the times she wants to touch herself the most, when Eren tells the girl he’s with she’s being a good girl in that deep raspy voice of his, in the tone he only uses when he’s at the height of his pleasure, gravelly and filled with desire as he fucks some girl so hard the wall of their shared bedroom shakes.

Her face heats anymore at her train or thought, doing her damndest not to let her eyes follow the V of his abs down to the waist band of his pants.

“I’m sorry, I won’t do it again, I’ll be better,” she responds quickly, she doesn’t want him to be mad at her, not about this, she didn’t mean to eavesdrop, she’ll never do it again as long as he’s not mad at her.

It’s the worst when he’s mad at her, he wont talk to her for a while, won’t touch her and that’s the worst part, no little touches. She’d never realized how totally attached and needy for him she was until they were watching a movie and he wouldn’t let her sit in his lap, wouldn’t lay his head on her chest and hum into her sternum while she fought back shivers because her breasts are so fucking sensitive.

“Eren please, I’m sorry, please don’t be mad at me.”

His face is stern for a moment, dark strong eyebrows scrunched up and lips set into a line, tears prick her eyes at the thought of him giving her the silent treatment for a week again. She can’t do it.

As a tear escapes one eye, tracing a path down her cheekbones, Eren’s large calloused hand comes up to cup her face, moving from her chin, his thumb darting out to catch the tear before he brings his thumb to his mouth, licking the meagre drop from his finger.

His face settles back into a neutral expression before he buries it into her neck, leaning his whole body weight on her, and pushing her to the ground, lying across her front.

“Oh fuck Miki, what am I going to do with you?” He sighs into her neck, before leaving a little bite there that makes her squeak. Then another, and another and she knows this is her punishment but it feels so nice, bites interspersed with little kisses along the column of her throat, they’ll probably leave marks later if she’s lucky.

He pulls back when she makes a little whimpering sound as he hits a particularly sensitive area of her skin, breaking the quiet atmosphere and they both come back to themselves. She’s immediately sad because she loves it when he gets carried away like that, almost feels like she has a chance.

Eren moves away, leaving her cold and bereft on the floor as he stands up.

She stares up at him, quicksilver eyes wide and needy, she needs something, she doesn’t know what, zings shoot through her core and she’s unbearably hot, she needs something. It’s the weird feeling again, the one she only gets when he’s around and being touchy, he must see it in her eyes because a pained looks crosses his face and he almost moves to grab her again but he bites his lip and settles on holding a hand to help her up, “Come on Miki, I’ll make you breakfast love.”

She pouts but takes his hand, following him to the kitchen and sitting herself on the bar stool while he makes her favourite waffles.

It’s always like this, he’s always taking care of her, he can’t help himself and sure sometimes he’s a little mean, well most of the time, and more often than not he’s teasing her, but he takes care of her so well, she trusts him implicitly.

They’re on the cusp of something, she doesn’t know what but she can feel it building, ever since she first moved in, the tension has gotten worse. Eren is like a caged panther waiting, watching, restraining himself, his eyes are always hungry when she walks around in her pyjamas, which consist of only his old shirts and panties, but she can’t quite figure out for what.

He gives her a little wink as he slides her waffles onto a plate and cutting them up for her, before he feeds her delicately, little bites of chocolate chip and syrup. He catches little dribbles of the sickly sweet mixture that stain her lips, bringing his finger to his mouth, just for a taste. He pulls a face at the overly sweet treat, and she laughs which makes Eren smile her favourite smile, the genuine one with all his teeth only she can pull from him.

The next dribble of syrup she loses, Eren feeds it right back to her, holding out his thumb for her to lick but she does him one better and takes the whole digit in her mouth with ease, sucking the syrupy chocolate up happily. She watches him the whole time and his reaction is everything, his eyes glow greener, he leans in just a little closer and there is that intent hungry look again. It’s beginning to be her favourite look on him, something about it is just attractive.

She releases his finger with a pop, smiling at him before she sticks her tongue out, “All clean!”

Eren’s gaze is so intense she wants to look away as he moves his hand to tuck a few stray locks of hair behind her ear. He exhales before he speaks, his voice quiet, like he doesn’t mean to say it at all, “You’re such a good girl aren’t you Miki?”

“What did you say?” She asks because she wants to hear it again and again, but Eren doesn’t oblige.

“Nothing baby, finish your waffles, you haven’t been eating well lately, I don’t want anything left on your plate.”

He takes care of her so so well. How could she ever need anyone else?

But evidently Eren does, to satiate his more carnal needs, the ones she’s clueless about and the one’s she longs for him to use her for. He gets a call halfway through her breakfast and he departs from alternately stealing bites of her waffle and letting her eat by herself. It’s a call from a regular girl, Selena, she’s pretty sure her name is, a beautiful Brazilian exchange student with blue eyes and a perfect olive hue. He kisses Mikasa goodbye, a swift peck to the cheek, before he tells her not to wait up, he’s going to work this afternoon shift and afterwards he’s going ‘out’.

She’s may be naïve but she’s not stupid, she knows what ‘out’ means, he’s going to spend the night at Selena’s and tomorrow he’ll come home with mussed hair and hickeys, he won’t need anyone to make his morning tea, won’t be home to make her breakfast.

She’ll be all alone in the apartment once again and not for the first time, she wonders if maybe she should be doing the same. Just what is she missing out on that’s so good that Eren can’t go two days without it, what is so great about sex that Sasha and Annie will spend hours discussing it over dinner?

She drops her breakfast dish in the sink, scowling as she watches the water run over the remains of her breakfast, filling the sink with bubbles, maybe she should try it too. Maybe sex is what she needs from her life, maybe Eren is onto something.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

I’m Always Curious Part Thirty One

Previous Part | Next Part |  Masterlist Notes: I hope everyone’s having a good week 💕

Warnings: Cursing and some angst my bad Summary: Eli knew as well as I did how hard it was for me to relax after a Tag and Run, let alone a manual one.

“I’ve seen you pull some reckless shit, but launching yourself into the middle of an active and radioactive debris field with a ship on the verge of breakdown under you, that’s… That’s gotta be top five,” Eli commented as Pollard scanned me. I shot him a tired look. “I didn’t have any other options.” “I know,” He shook his head, “But...Damn, kid.” “I’m back, I’m one piece, so maybe save the lecture for some occasion where I wind up in a biobed.”

“Heart rate is still a little high,” Pollard commented, stepping around in front of me and shining a light in my eyes. I startled a bit at the sudden flash before I settled. 

“And when was the last time you slept?” She added, brow furrowing. “I feel like if you really wanted to know, you would’ve asked before I piloted.” Pollard gave me a stern look that probably should’ve made me wilt, but adrenaline was still coursing through my body. “How do you feel?” She asked, a little imperious. “Like I’ll be happy if I never get behind the controls of an attack fighter again.” That made her smile a bit, at least. She nodded. “I want to check on you again before you leave the ship, make sure that heart rate is back down where it’s supposed to be.” “Yes ma’am.” “And get some sleep. I am not above sedating you.” “...I believe that.” “You might wanna get that hypo ready now, doc—” “Can it, Durling,” I cut him off, reaching for my jacket. He gave me a disapproving look as I stood. Eli knew as well as I did how hard it was for me to relax after a Tag and Run, let alone a manual one. If I lay in the dark, my mind would just run through what I had done, all of the ways that it could’ve gone wrong. I was sure that this experience was going to be no different; if anything, the possibilities for a different outcome were increased. “You heading for the gym?” Durling asked as we walked out of the medbay. It was a fair question, but as comfortable as my civvies were, I certainly wasn’t prepared to be sparring in them. “Nah, not this time. You got a report to file?” I asked. “Yeah— Hey,” Eli reached out, taking light hold of my shoulder, “I need to talk to you.” “Look, I will get some sleep—” “No, not about that,” He shook his head. He glanced around the hall, quiet as someone passed us before he turned back to me, “It’s about my assignment after this.” “...Okay,” I frowned. “They’re giving me the Pinnacle.” Confusion melted from my face and I grinned, socking him in the shoulder, unable to contain my excitement. “Eli! That’s amazing— Why didn’t you tell me before? Oh, congratulations!” I squealed, drawing him in for a hug. He chuckled, patting my shoulder before leaning away. “We had a job to do first,” He shook his head. “That’s why you weren’t putting the tag down yourself, huh?” I asked. “There’s something else.” “What else could there possibly be?” “I need a first officer.” “Oh. So who are your candidates?” Eli’s brows rose, and he tipped his head forward a bit. Realization washed over me slowly, and I found myself fighting the urge to shake my head and ask him what the hell he was thinking. “What?… Eli—” “Hear me out,” He pleaded softly, “You know my every move, you get how I operate, you don’t let me get away with shit, you know when to push and when to pull… And I swear I did not mean that the way it sounded.” “Bullshit.” “See?” He pointed out before tacking on, “Look, don’t answer me right now. I know it’s a big decision, just… Just think about it.” I gave him a small nod in concession, a murmur of promise that I would. But as I watched his retreating back, I already knew what my answer was. --

The canteen was basically deserted. I walked over to the replicators, leaning heavily against the wall beside it and scrubbing my hand over my face. “Black coffee, four shots of espresso— splash of caramel creamer.”

“Are you planning on having a heartbeat after that?” I did, but mine skipped a beat at the sound of his voice. It seemed to be doing that a lot lately. “The caramel is just to sweeten it a bit,” I justified, “Doesn’t taste the same as the Una Matrix, so I’ve gotta make do.” I glanced back to find him leaning against a table nearby. “Everything alright on the Bridge?” I asked, turning back to the replicator. “Fine,” He conceded, “And the shuttle bay?” “Uh…” I straightened, taking hold of the mug, “Well, Jett is cursing my name. Apparently Eli’s messed up a number of phaser cannons but having a damaged warp nacelle and a punctured cabin really takes the cake.” “Is that much coffee advisable after what you’ve just done? I’d think some rest would be in order.” “And Dr. Pollard would agree with you, but I can never sleep after tags,” I admitted. I cleared my throat, “So, how... “ It had been way too long to ask about how he was, hadn't it? We’d been on the same ship for hours now— “How’s um— Spock?” Christopher’s brows rose a little. “He’s...Taking leave.” I frowned. “That’s unlike him.” “Well, the war took its toll on the crew, such as it was.” I nodded a little, leaning back against the wall again, “I can understand that.” Christopher’s head tipped to the side, brow furrowing. “How so? I mean no disrespect, Commander, but you were very much in the thick of it.” “Yeah, but,” I lowered my eyes to my drink, “You all...Had to wait, I guess. You got your news about people that you were concerned about in a delayed fashion, and from a distance— all secondhand, second rate. Maybe some of the crew held themselves back from reaching out to people, not sure how they’d take it, not wanting to distract them... That time, that distance, it can wear someone down.” It was a moment before I heard Chris take in a deep breath. “We should talk,” he said softly. “We are talking,” I pointed out. When I glanced up to look at him, I found an unimpressed little frown affixed to his lips. I rolled my eyes a little, pushing away from the wall and nodding for him to follow me: “C’mon.” I was relieved to hear his footfalls behind mine without a moment’s hesitation. “I know where the quiet spots are and I’m willing to bet you haven’t found them yet.” “By Ensign Tilly’s account, you were only on this ship for a couple of days,” Pike commented. “Yes,” I nodded, “And in that time, she told me where all the cool kids hang out. From there, I used those tips, the ship’s directory, and the process of elimination to find a few quiet spots.” I peered into a small suite and found it empty. The outer wall was wrapped with a window. There was a desk with a reading lamp on one end of the room and a loveseat and side table on the other end. “This alright?” I asked, nodding inside. Pike peered around before stepping in fully. I took that as a yes and followed him in, the door sliding shut behind us.  “What’d you come in here for?” He asked, looking around. “Studying, once. I had to brush up on my Klingon while I was aboard,” I told him, sitting down on the loveseat. I set my coffee aside for a moment, shrugging my jacket off and draping it over the arm of the seat before picking my cup up again. I watched Christopher drift around the room, taking it in, his fingers trailing the wood of the desk. I leaned back against the cushions, taking a long pull from the coffee and wincing from the taste. “Too much coffee?” “Just not as good as the Una Matrix,” I justified. I glanced up at him to find him leaning back against the desk, arms folded across his chest. For a moment the both of us just… looked. It reminded me of the moments in his Ready Room before we beamed down to Sandblossom— but we were so different now. “So who told you?” I asked. “Una.” “How’d that go?” Christopher averted his eyes, tipping his head forward a bit, “Well, she… Sat me down, laid out Spock’s timeline, let me know that you were on the Pinnacle.” “Can I ask when that was?” “You’d been aboard for about a month.” That couldn’t have been very long after Una had called me, then. I could only imagine her demeanor when she’d told him. I nodded a bit. “I don’t… I do not know how much Admiral Cornwell told you, but she—” “Kat mentioned before she left that she had you give your word not to contact the Enterprise.”  “Okay.” “Though I am a little surprised you kept to it,” Christopher admitted. I considered that for a moment, fingers tapping along the side of my mug. “Sometimes I couldn’t believe it either. I hated it. But...Cornwell told me that you were determined to come back to Somonia for me, when you heard about the negotiations—” I watched as Chris pushed himself away from the desk, drifting over to look out of the window. I saw the tight pull of his shoulders, the wringing of his hands where he had them clasped behind his back. “Besides that,” I added quietly, “I was sure that being so removed from the war was weighing on you all in some estimation. And after Una contacted me…” I shook my head, “I'm not sure how I would've handled speaking with anyone else from the Enterprise.” Christopher frowned, and I could see the question forming as he turned to look at me. I raised a hand to halt it: “We’re fine. We spoke when the ship was docked on Earth recently.” “How long were you two out of contact?” “A while,” I answered flatly. Christopher shook his head a little bit. I slouched down against the cushions. “Why didn’t—...” I started before I stopped myself, cringing. “What would you have wanted me to say?” He asked knowingly.  “Anything, Christopher! I didn’t even know that you knew.” I set my coffee aside and rested my elbows against my knees, running my hands over my face. “I didn’t think you would want to hear from us after we left you there.” He said it so softly, with such abject confidence; it nearly split me in two. I lifted my head, brow drawn, disbelieving of what I’d heard, only to find that Christopher had turned back to the window, chin tipped toward his chest. “...After you—… No,” I sighed, pushing myself off of the loveseat, “No, you didn’t.” “We should’ve turned around,” The assertion followed fast, his voice tight, “We would’ve found you— We would’ve been in range for the war, none of this would’ve happened.” I stopped a couple of steps from him. There was a time when I wouldn’t have hesitated in reaching out to touch him, to draw him in, but I wasn’t sure anymore. “I saw the pictures that you got from Starbase 329,” I said softly, “It was a crater, Christopher, there was no way you could’ve known. And Choholl and I were so far underground for stretches at a time, you may not have been able to find us, even if you had turned around.” He turned his head toward me a little, but did not meet my eye. “I considered reaching out,” He admitted softly, “But I didn’t know what to say. ‘Hi’ seemed...inappropriate, and… And I was worried.” “About what?” “You. What you said, about not wanting to distract someone, keeping yourself at a distance…” He trailed off, nodding, “Does take its toll.” I watched him for a moment, considering this. Christopher had thought about me. I supposed that that was some consolation, at least; I hadn’t been alone in my hours spent curious and lonely. “So,” I said lightly, turning to face the window as he had, “What happens after this mission?” “Back to the Enterprise, ideally,” Christopher answered; his voice was firmer now, a little more self-sure now that I'd turned to a topic he was likely more comfortable with. I felt him turn to look at me as he asked, “Do you...Know where you’ll be stationed next?” “No. Command did mention something about reinstating Larilia to the Federation, now that Choholl has everything under control. They’re going to need a new attaché, they asked if I’d be interested.” I felt him tense beside me, “And what did you say?” “That I’d retire first.” He huffed a soft laugh, and I smiled a little. My mind drifted to the offer given to me earlier, and I shook my head a little bit. “What is it?” He asked. “Nothing.” “Are you sure?” I hesitated, “Eli is being given the Pinnacle. He needs a first officer and he… He offered me the position.” I turned to look up at Christopher, and I saw the split second of surprise before he schooled his face into a small smile. “What are you thinking?” He asked. I shook my head, turning away again. “I’m going to tell him ‘no’. Just haven’t worked out how yet.” “Why are you turning him down?” “Well, he needs someone— You know, more like Una. I am not like Una.” “... Well, you did take Onafuwa’s one-day intensive.” It took me a moment, and I opened my mouth to respond, but I could not help the laugh that bubbled up. I slapped my hand over my mouth, trying to quiet the sound, but Christopher laughed, too. For a moment, just a moment, it felt like it used to— light, and warm. I looked at him, and found that grin that I’d missed; the crinkling around his eyes and the dimples. And as we quieted, as we found one another just looking again, I felt my eyes prickle with tears. I hurried to look away again, turning back to where I’d set my coffee and walking back to it. I settled down onto the loveseat, taking a long pull from the mug and using it to cover a small sniffle. I expected Christopher to stay where he was, but he followed, sitting down beside me. He was close— but then, the loveseat was small, he had no choice but to be close. “You really ought to rest,” He said quietly. “I can’t,” I shook my head, “After one of those—” I sighed, closing my eyes for a moment, “My head just doesn’t settle right.” “Is it always like this?” I nodded a bit. I felt Christopher shift beside me a little before I heard him mutter, “C’mere.” I glanced over and did a double-take, my heart leaping into my throat when I found him leaned back, his arm thrown over the back of the loveseat. “What?” “Come here,” He urged more softly, nodding me closer. I narrowed my eyes at him before I set the coffee down, shifting a little closer. I was nearly pressed fully against his side this way, from knee to chest.  “Put your head down,” He urged, nodding to his shoulder. “Chris—” “Just try it.” I huffed, irritated but did as he said. His arm curled around my shoulders. “Close your eyes.” “If you really think is is going to work—” “So stubborn,” He mumbled, resting his chin atop my head and my eyes fluttered shut at the comforting weight, “Stubborn as stone.” If Christopher thought that this was going to calm me down, he was severely mistaken; my heart was pounding out of my chest, my stomach was twisting itself into knots. I hadn’t felt worked up like this since after Koutov. Christopher’s fingers trailed over my shoulder softly, and I found myself reaching out and setting my hand on his jacket. “...The blue’s...Different,” I commented. “Wanna command the ship, you’ve gotta wear the uniform,” He pinched the sleeve of my t-shirt as he said so. I rolled my eyes a little. “Good thing I don’t wanna command, then,” I muttered. Christopher’s chest shook with a quiet laugh. “Gotta say… it is a good thing you’re turning Durling down, if only for the fact that you seem to fight so much,” He said. “It’s all in good fun… Mostly in good fun.” “The two of you seem close.” I glanced up at Christopher. “We’re friends,” I nodded. “Close your eyes,” He muttered, poking my shoulder when he saw me looking at him. I huffed, doing as he said. My fingers absently skated over a section of the gold braiding covering the zipper on the jacket, unable to keep still. “That wasn’t an accusation, by the way,” He added. “Sounded like one.” “Wasn’t.” “Mm.” I wasn’t sure what it was— the hum of the ship around us, or the steady rise and fall of his chest under my hand, or just the feeling of being by Christopher again, but I felt myself relaxing, eyelids and limbs growing heavy. “We should— I should finish my coffee,” I mumbled after a while. “Why’s that?” Christopher murmured. “‘M gonna fall asleep.” “Good.” I smiled a little, “‘M gonna fall asleep on you.” “You’re already falling asleep on me.” “So...Should move.” “You comfortable?” “Mmmmmhm.” “Okay.” That okay was all I needed. I cozied deeper into Christopher’s side, unabashedly cuddling up against him, and I felt his hand smooth soothingly over my arm. In my haze and weariness, the tears that I’d managed to push down before welled up. Now, though, I felt too tired to hide them again. A few leaked from my eyes, and I pressed my face into his shoulder. “I missed you so much,” I admitted quietly, hand fisting in his jacket. I felt his grip tighten on me, his other hand covering mine, thumb skating over my knuckles. “I know,” Christopher whispered; I could feel his lips quivering as they brushed my temple, “I missed you, too.” Tag list: @angels-pie​ ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta​  ; @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo​ ; @how-am-i-serpose-to-know​ ; @onlyhereforthefandomandgiggles​ ; @inmyowncorner​​  ; @tardis-23​  ; @paintballkid711 ; @katrynec​ ; @hypnobananaangelfish ; @elen-aranel​ ; @blueeyesatnight​ ; @hotchswifey​

[waywardimpalawriter]

Book Boyfriend a Frankie Morales x Plus Size Reader fic Part two the final

Book Boyfriend

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Plus Size F! Reader

Characters: Frankie Morales, Reader, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, William “Ironhead” Miller, Ben “Benny” Miller, Isabella Morales (OC)

Setting: Two years after the events in Colombia (Triple Frontier)

Rating: R, NSFW

Warnings: Smut, Soft Frankie (yes that has to be a warning), cursing, teasing, unprotected sex, oral (male and female receiving), tooth rotting fluff, mixed with a little hurt/comfort, mention of abuse,

Word count: Part 1: 10,284, Part 2: 16,388 (sorry not sorry, I blame Frankie for the wordiness) 

Summary: You’ve been so engrossed in your currant book series its lead to Frankie feeling a little left out.  

Notes: This is my first Frankie Morales/Pedro Pascal Fic, so I’m hoping everyone loves it as much as I did writing it. Something a little fluffy I thought of while thinking of my own favorite book boyfriends. Using the translator Systran for my very bad Spanish translations. A grateful thank you to @icanbeyourjedi for helping me out with Frankie’s Dog tags.

Tag list: @manalg14​   @songbirdcannabe

From Part 1 

Finally, home from running errands and wrangling a very fussy Isabella though you couldn’t blame her really. Exhaustion setting into your very bones from running around town, stopping around noon at a play/girlfriend's date. Talking with the girls as the kids played, laughing over the latest things their men have done and the newest book in the series everyones reading. Heat flared to life at the memory of Frankie from this morning during your talk when things turned towards the more intimate. Though you’d refused to share the details just saying he’s better than any book boyfriend you’ve read. Getting teased by your friends up until the moment you left for the grocery store with a very sleepy little girl in your arms. 

Chuckling softly you put Isabella down for another longer nap so you could get the rest of the groceries in from the car. Pulling your cell out to dial Santi’s number putting the slim piece of tech between your shoulder and ear having forgot the buds in your purse. Not wanting to waste time on getting the steaks marinated for tonight, you decided a neck pain would be a better choice for now.  

Breathing a sigh when he picks up on the second ring, “What do I owe for this unexpected call?” smooth baritone filtering over the line making you smile. 

“I need a favor Pope.” 

Chuckling, “Finally came to your senses and dropped Fish for me huh, hermosa?” teasing quality to his voice, you picking up the sounds of water running in the background. 

Knowing he’s just playing with you though at one time you’d entertained the idea of asking Santiago out. You never got the nerve up instead one cold beer accidentally poured down your shirt later and here you were with the man of your dreams and his beautiful little girl who you’ve fell in love with. You still chuckle at how sweetly apologetic Frankie had been, cheeks stained red with embarrassment at having spilled his drink over you. Though in reality it almost hadn’t been an accident, as all three guys noticed the way he looked at you. Watching the sway of your generous hips to the music, glancing away when you scanned the bar. Never seeing your own eyes rest on him for longer than normal. Only to dart away and back to your friend on your left. 

They plotted, Will trying to talk Pope and Ben out of the stupid idea, but neither would listen, while Frankie took off to the bathroom. Coming back, he’d made a beeline for the bar to grab another mug of beer, taking up the spot right next to you. That’s when Benny tried to strike, sneaking up to Frankie’s left side looking to ask you out himself. Only to be beaten when you turn towards Frankie and he to you, a guy from behind barreling his way through the crowd and into your back. Pushing you forward and into the glass he held. Cold beer pouring down your front as a warm hand pressed against your thick waist to keep you from falling. Your eyes locked and from that moment on you’d been a goner. 

“Hello earth to Y/N you still with me woman? Or fantasizing about me,” knowing there’s a grin on his lips by the tone of his voice. 

Eyes rolling, as your hands work to finish seasoning the steaks, “Keep dream Pope maybe one day it’ll come true. Through I wouldn’t hold my breath,” snarky comment leaving your lips with a grin tugging the corners. “You busy tonight and tomorrow?” 

“Free as a bird, why you have something planned? Party? Or are you finally gonna ask Frankie to marry you?” the last question only a half joke knowing that the man in question wanted to ask that one himself. 

Gapping for a moment but finding the idea appealing, “Think he’d be okay with that if I did?” Of course, you’d thought about marrying Frankie. Hell for the last year you wanted to ask or at least hint at it. But not wanting to overstep any boundaries he set up for himself. Never brought up, though you’ve thought about it a few times. Finding yourself for the most part content having them both in your life.

“He’d die, but say yes so I think it’s a go,” smiling at the thought. You fit right in with the boys, giving hell just as much as you got. But most of all helping Frankie through his demons, not shying away when things got tough. Rather suiting up for battle with a determination he hadn’t seen in seasoned soldiers. Not to mention the way you took care of Isabella as if she’s your own daughter. “Remember I’m best man, Will and Benny bridesmaids I’m sure they’ll look good in whatever color you choose.” 

Giggling at that idea, “I’ll put them in hot pink dresses, halter tops to show off those muscles,” fully belly laugh roars from your lips at the very through of those two grown men in dresses. Santi’s gruff laughter only serves to spur yours on, making you grip the counter to keep from slipping to the floor in mirth. Sobering, grabbing the towel to dry your laughter tears away, “I’m gonna have to tell them you know that right Pope?” 

Snorting, “Of fucking course you would,” wiping his own mirthful tears away. “Anything else you needed to ask me hermosa and please I don’t do flower arrangements. Cake tasting I’m all for.”

Finished with the streaks, setting those aside to grab the potatoes to get them ready next while answering, “So noted but you might have to fight Benny on that one babe.” Pulling the aluminum foil out to wrap up the fork stuck potatoes, “That’s not why I called actually. I’m wondering if you could baby sit Isabella till tomorrow afternoon?” 

“That’s a no brainer of course I will, Uncle Santi to the rescue,” looking for the car seat and his keys. “I’ve got her bed set up and extra clothes.” 

“No junk food Pope or I’ll skin you alive when I see you tomorrow,” voice taking on a hard mama edge. Already having packed a small bag of items, knowing full well that Santi wouldn’t have them on hand. Nor did you expect the poor inexperience man to know what to feed a two almost three-year-old. “I’ve got her a goodie bag packed with what you’ll need and if anything happens…” 

“I’ll call Will and Ben, we’ll figure it out unless it’s an emergency,” placing his buds in to continue the conversation and setting to work on getting the new car seat in place. Double checking the instructions, he would never let anyone know he used, wanting to keep his goddaughter safe. The very idea of her getting hurt knocked the wind from his lungs. Shaking that thought aside, knowing you wouldn’t ask for this favor if you and Frankie didn’t trust him. “Better yet, we can three men and a baby it tonight.” 

“Oh, good Lord if my child comes back with a tattoo or piecing and drinking a Budweiser, I will have all three of your cocks mounted on my wall.” Trying to make your voice hard but wanting to bust out laughing again. Almost straining yourself from holding back the giggles.  

Fake gasp leaving his lips, “Have some taste woman it’ll be a tequila, if it's Bud blame Frick and Frack for that.” Catching the ‘your child’ comment makes him grin knowing his best friend and Goddaughter are in good hands. “Careful cariño your mama bear is showing.” 

“I’ll show you three mama bear when I’ve strung you up by your balls if there is one hair on my precious child’s head missing,” grinning, knowing that you love that little girl with all your heart. 

“Damn Y/N I didn’t know you were this blood thirsty or is it a cock and ball fascination? Bigger question does Fish know?” biting back the laughter bubbling up, triumphant look on his handsome face when he’s finished putting the car seat. 

Shaking your head small giggle leaving your lips, “Watch yourself Santiago Garcia or you’ll find out just what I keep in my purse.”  

“Now you have me intrigued. Thank packing heat in that monster bag of yours?” sliding into the driver seat phone call switching to the onboard Bluetooth. Plucking the earbuds out to stow them while driving. “When did Frankie teach you how to shoot?” 

Heat tingling your neck, as you sputter out an answer, “He actually didn’t teach me.” 

“What’d mean?” confused frown marring his handsome features as he stops at a red light. Hearing his phone ding for a text message from Frankie, deepening his confusion. “Does Fish know Isabella is staying with me tonight?” 

Thanking God for the last question, “No, I didn’t tell him just yet. It’s a surprise. Why?” 

“He’s texting me now, asking if I can watch Isabella I bet,” pulling into the nearest gas station to answer. “Shall I tell him?” smirking when he hears the low growl from the other end of the phone. “Take that as a no Bella.” 

“I swear on all that’s holy Santiago if you tell Frankie…” 

“Yes, yes you’ll have my dick nailed to the wall as a trophy,” rolling his eyes though you can’t. Light chuckle barely sounds when he reads what Frankie texted, “So, violent today Y/N.” 

Catfish: Necesita un hermano favorito? 

(Need a favorite brother?)

Pope: Nombrarlo 

(Name it.)

Not hearing anything for a moment, bottom lip trapped between your teeth standing in the kitchen worried your plan could fall apart. But trusted Santiago, “What’s he asking about Santi?” 

“Hasn’t yet, just chill Bella like I said he’s probably asking the same question.” Sure, enough the next text that comes in, has another chuckle leaving his lips. 

Catfish: Puedes cuidar hasta mañana? 

(Can you babysit till tomorrow?)

Pope: Lo que está en él para mí 

(What’s in it for me?)

Knowing Frankie’s groaning at his answer, Santi can’t help but tease his best friend. “I was right he’s asking the same thing you owe me five bucks.��� 

“Fuck you Pope we didn’t make a bet,” rolling your eyes this time and breathing a sigh of relief. You set to work making the key lime pie for dessert, aiming to get everything ready before Frankie came home from work. Along with a shower and dressed in the new lingerie you bought a week ago. 

“Shame I could use the dollar bills,” shaking his head at the stupid code he and Frankie came up with for strip club. 

Chuckling, “Next time Pope I know the girls miss you raining them with those bills and sticking them in their G-string.” 

“How did…” eyes wide when the phone dinged with another text message. 

Catfish: Tiempo con tu ahijada y debía uno. Además, voy a preguntarle esta noche.

(Time with your goddaughter and owed one. Plus, I’m going to ask her tonight.) 

Forgetting all about how you knew what that code meant, Santiago let out the loudest yell of excitement. Gaining the attention of a few people pumping gas with ‘you crazy’ looks and also making you worry. 

“Pope what’s wrong? You, okay?” genuine fear lacing your tone, holding the phone tighter hand starting to shake. “You didn’t have an accident, did you? Don’t you dare ruin my plans for tonight Santiago Garcia.” 

Knowing the last threat means nothing, Santi tries to calm down not wanting to give away that he knows something about Frankie’s plan. “Yeah,” clearing his throat to hide the fact he’s lying. “Yeah, I’m good cariño just found out my team won,” hoping you don’t see through his lie. Something you’re almost scary good at.

Releasing the breath held trapped in your lungs relieved sigh pushed out along with the air. Heart broken if anything happened to him. In a relative short period of time all four men have situated themselves into your heart in different ways. The very idea of loosing them would shattered the strongest muscle in your body. The wise words of your favorite whiskey drinking Hunter comes to mind that family doesn’t end in blood.

“Don’t ever do that again Santiago or might just have to punish you in ways that won’t you won’t like,” leaning against the counter trying to calm your racing heart. 

“You wouldn’t cariño you love me too much,” grinning, leaning over to scoop up his cell phone from where it landed in his excitement to answer Frankie. 

Pope: Acerca de maldito tiempo hombre, sí, voy a cuidar a mi godhija esta noche para que usted y el pronto para ser esposa puede carajo ​toda la noche.

(About fucking time man, yes, I'm gonna take care of my goddaughter tonight so you and soon to be a wife can fuck all night.)

Chuckling, Pope places his cell phone on the cup holder and restarts the truck heading first towards Will and Benny’s place. Hearing the groan leave your throat followed by a quick ouch. “Now what’d you do?” hissing coming over the speakers in his truck making him worry this time. 

“Just nicked my finger is all Santi I’m not gusting blood or anything. Though I don’t recommend getting lime juice in the cut, hurts like a mother fucker.” Moving to the sink to clean the cut, just one more thing to put you behind in getting things ready. 

“Do you kiss Frankie with that mouth woman?” pulling into the drive giving a couple of blasts on the horn. 

“On the mouth and other places to Pope,” smirking at the disgusted sound leaving his lips. Bandaging your finger up to get back to work. Hearing a horn sound over the cell line, “You hear alright Pope? I heard you honk over the phone.” 

“Picking Will and Ben up then heading over to yours,” seeing the two brothers come out he puts the call on mute to speak with them. Rolling the window down to talk, “Suite up we got ourselves a mission.” 

Glancing between each other than back at Pope, “The hell you say man, the game’s on tonight, Ben and I were heading to the Roadhouse to watch and see how many times Benny get’s shot down.” 

“Fuck you Ironhead,” punching his brother’s arm, leaning on the mirror hearing your voice muttering something over the truck’s speakers. “Why you talking to Y/N?” 

“No thanks man you ain’t my type too many dangly bits for my taste,” snarking back landing his own punch to Ben’s shoulder.

Rolling his eyes, “Y/N called we got babysitting duty tonight, Frankie’s gonna pop the question but neither know of the other’s plans.” 

Loud cheers erupt from both men to the point Santi must bang on the side of the truck to get their attention to shut up. Having heard you ask something he goes to unmute, “What did you say Y/N I couldn’t make it out over Frick and Frack’s noises assholes selves.” 

Huffing, “I asked if one of you could start a fire for me, Frankie gets weird if he knows I did it myself.” 

“That’s cause last time you tried you almost burned the house down woman,” Pope snarked pushing Benny away 

Coming back, hitting Pope in the chest, “Of course, gorgeous we’ll take care of that for you,” Benny chimes in leaning into the window so you can hear him.  

“Down boy, or you won’t get a slice of the pie I’m making,” chuckling you put the phone down long enough to put said pie in the oven and slam the door making you jump a little. 

Playfully putting his hand to his chest, “Marry me Y/N, Frankie doesn’t deserve you.” 

Both Pope and Will snort at that, but it’s your sweet voice that answers with, “Sorry sweetheart I’m spoken for by a sweet little girl who you’ll babysit tonight and one handsome flyboy that does some very wicked things with his hands.”

Groaning, “Don’t give us any visions please I’ll need bleach to get Fish’s naked ass outta my head,” shaking to get the images out. Laying his forehead on his arms while leaning against the truck trying to rub that idea out of his mind, having come to love you like a sister. Will didn’t want to know anything about your sex life. 

“Aww what’s the matter William you didn’t see enough of it while bunking together on tour?” teasing tone to your voice plopping down in a chair to wait on the pie. “What time will you three Stooges get here?” 

Shrugging, “Twenty or thirty minutes give or take, depends on how long it takes the blond wonder twins to pack a go bag.” Santi answers getting murders looks from both men. 

“Make sure you ask them their measurements Santi,” biting your bottom lip to keep from laughing harder. “Let them know pink won’t clash with their skin tone.” 

The looks only intensify combined with a confusion at your words, “Thanks Annie Oakley.” Groaning head dropping to the steering wheel. “Which reminds me you’ll have to tell us the story of how you learned to use a gun. See ya in a few,” hanging up before you can say anything else and dig his hole deeper. 

“What exactly did she mean by measurements?” crossing his arms over muscular chest, glaring at Pope. 

Resting an arm on his brother’s shoulder, “And pink? Really, I’m more of a coral,” trying to keep from chuckling while giving Pope his own glare. Benny realizing what he’d said at the end and tries to cover with adding, “When did Y/N learn to shoot, better yet where’d she get the gun?”  

Shrugging, “Just found out today, gonna ask when we get there.” Knowing you can handle yourself more concerned that you’ve learned the correct way to handle a gun. Never wanting you to actually have a need to shoot but incase Santiago wants to make sure you wouldn’t hurt yourself. Especially if Frankie didn’t show you or know. His mind rewinding to the fact, “Coral? What the fuck dude? How the hell do you even know what that is?” 

Dying of laughter, Benny turns giving both of them the middle finger salute heading back into the house to grab both his and Will’s go bags. As promised Pope pulled into the driveway thirty minutes later, all three exist, not even bothering to knock just walking right in. Fresh baked goodies and coffee brewing meeting their noses, along with a squeal of excitement from a little blur of yellow and blue. 

“Ukcl Po,” flinging herself into his arms, as he’s crouched down to scoop her up unconcerned with his knees popping, spinning around to her delighted peels of laugher. 

Hugging her close, seeing you come around the corner with an arm load of firewood bright smile on your lips. “Good y’all finally showed up thought I’d have to start the fire myself,” joking tone. Using your elbow to wave them in. 

Will passes Pope and Isabella pausing to ruffle her hair, leaning down to give her a kiss on the forehead then going over to take the arm load from you. Making you roll your eyes reluctantly giving it over when he gives you that stern look. 

“I’m not helpless you know I can move a couple of pieces,” tossing your hands up, smacking Will’s shoulder as he passes. 

Shaking his head, “And have Frankie put us on freeze for letting his woman get hurt. Nope, no thank you ma’am I happen to like having certain body parts stay in respective places.” 

“It’s not Fish you have to worry about rearranging parts Ironhead its Y/N,” bouncing Isabella in his arms smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Ain’t that right Annie Oakley?” grin widening when you turn to scowl at Pope. 

“Careful Santi or you’ll wearing the pink dress,” crossing your arms to glare at both men, as Benny chuckles beside Pope. In between making faces at Isabella, her giggles making beautiful music. 

Rejoining the group after dusting his hands on his jean clad thighs, “Anything else you need done Y/N?” scenting the air a small growl leaving Will’s stomach. 

“You got a bear in there William?” taking Isabella from Pope to put her on your hip while walking back to the kitchen and check on the potatoes. 

Low whistle leaving all three men making heat race up your neck a small squirm moves over your body when they see everything you’ve got planned out for tonight. Steaks siting out ready for the grill along with the corn on the cob, salad finished and chilling in the fridge, and the pie cooling. Out of the corner of your eye you spy Benny going towards the pie. Quickly spinning making Isabella giggle to land a hard smack to his hand. He pulls back quickly puppy eyes in place and howls of laughter from the other two men. 

“Ben Miller how dare you try to stick a finger in my pie,” scowl firmly in place, Isabella matching the look or at least trying to its more adorable than anything. 

Unlike yours which is truly scary and has Ben raising his hands in surrender. “You sure you weren’t in the military gorgeous that look alone would’ve made plenty green recruits wet themselves,” backing up when you go to smack his shoulder.    

“Shame none of you will get a slice now,” placing Isabella in the highchair feeling a rush of air pass you by. Looking up to see all three sitting at the table with pleading looks on their faces. Shaking your head smile sliding over your lips, “You three are the worse right Bella baby?” 

“Ight mama,” nodding her head quickly, clapping her hands in excitement. 

To which Ben leans over to tickle her sides making her squeal even louder. Will and Pope both making silly faces none of them noticing when you pull your cell phone out to take a short video. Sending it to Frankie with the simple words “Our family”. Soft smile gracing your features watching them interact. Your heart expanding in love but also hurting. Wishing, not for the first time, that your own mom and siblings where here. 

“Hey,” calling from his spot. Having looked away so Santi wouldn’t see your eyes, turning to pull plates from the cabinet missing the frown turning down his lips.  Raising to go over, “You, okay?” 

Wanting Frankie there to chase away these thoughts you’ve tried to keep buried. You nod not trusting your voice right then to answer with words. Hating how your mood so quickly shifted spoiling the moment. 

Placing a hand on your shoulder to turn and have you face him, “You know you can tell us, me anything Y/N, we’re your family and family takes care of one another.” 

Taking a deep breath wringing your hands in front of you, knowing he’s right. Seeing for yourself the genuine concern in those deep brown pools. “My thoughts went to having my blood family here, my mom,” turning to look at Isabella, “she would’ve loved her so much.” Glancing up to see both Will and Benny giving you reassuring smiles that accompany nods of affirmation having heard Santiago’s words about family.

“Blood doesn’t always make family sweetheart standing by someone through thick and thin, never giving up, letting them into your heart that’s what makes a family.” Taking Isabella’s little hand in his, Ben looks at you his words making you tear up but this time in a good way. Eyes lingering on the youngest Miller for a bit longer. 

Seeing your tears, “I’d cry to if I looked at Benny’s ugly mug, got a face only a mother could love,” trying to lighten the mood. Hearty laughter filling the kitchen when you toss a balled-up towel at Will’s head. Landing perfectly over his face getting high pitched giggles from Isabella.     

“Thank you,” sincerity laced through you tone giving both Miller boys a smile once the towel is off Will’s face. Turning back to Pope to pat his chest, giving him the same smile. “Grab the coffee for me Santi please, looks like I’ve got a pie to cut into.” 

With a two-finger sloppy salute and a kiss to your cheek, Santi grabs the glass coffee pot from the maker, sugar and cream sitting nearby. “Anytime cariño, anytime.” 

Each with their hands full come to the table setting various items down, coffee poured, and pie sliced out with a heavy dollop of Reddi-whip atop. Moans of pleasure leave all three men, along with compliments and praise for your baking skills. Benny proposing once again which you turn down of course. Everyone tucking in after that first bite including Isabella who has more cream on her cheeks, chin, nose and shirt than her mouth. Her babbling on about different things while enjoying her pie. Brought a warmth to your heart, a rightness you hadn’t felt in your life till now. 

Reaching over to wipe off her face, the smile gracing your lips made all three men grin. Santi pulls his phone out to take a couple of pictures to send to Frankie later, knowing he’d want to see them. Hearing the tale tell sound of a camera going off makes your head whip around. 

Hating to have your picture taken when it’s needed, “Really I look like shit Santi and you’re taking pictures?” though you try to be mad at him, you fail knowing he’s doing it for Frankie. 

“Shit…” little voice states making all four grownups turn to look at her, eyes wide before busting out laughing. 

“You’re fault mama bear, I can’t wait till I tell Fish,” gripping the table to keep from falling from his chair laughing, fist banging the hard wood making the plates and forks jump around. 

Face going into your hands to hide your embarrassment from the boys, all of whom can’t stop the gruff laughter from bubbling up in their chests. Worried, Isabella reaches out with a pie covered hand to touch your arm. “Oh, ta mama?” sticky fingers patting quickly. 

Looking over at her you reach to taking her face in your hands, smile breaking through the embarrassment, to kiss her forehead. “I’m okay baby girl, your uncles are just evil is all,” giving her a wink that makes another peel of laughter leave her lips. Turing to Pope, “I may have to make good on that threat to hurt you by shooting you.” 

Still laughing, Santi shakes his head never feeling more at home or free than when he’s surround by his family. Eyes crinkling, he sends a wink to Isabella before fixing his eyes on you. “Speaking of which you never told me who taught you.” 

“Must you know all my secrets Pope?” teasing light entering your eyes that fixed on the man. With a heavy fake sigh, seeing the concern under the mirth, you answer. “My brother actually taught me years ago. Frankie took me to the range for practice a couple of times but we ah,” looking at Isabella she covers the little girl’s ears. “We got banned from the place,” giving them a shrug noticing the way all three were giving you a weird look. “Who knew Frankie like’s a woman who could handle a gun. He got handsy and one thing led to another…” smirk sliding over your lips. 

“Stop, stop, stop I beg you,” from Will.

Waving his hands before covering his ears, humming “It’s the end of the world as we know it” trying to get what he just heard from his head. “That’s so wrong,” from Benny. 

Santiago didn’t look to fazed just a grin on his lips, “That’s Frankie for ya. Should ah known he’s kinky as fu…” 

Whipping around to smack Pope before he can finish that word, “Language Garcia.” 

“Hey, you said a bad word,” winking at Isabella who clapped her pie covered hands at her uncle Pope. “How good a shot are you?” 

Snorting, “Not nearly what Frankie can do but I managed to land a few head and chest shots before it got a little too hot and bothered.” Laughing when all three groan while you rise to pick Isabella up, “Fire please boys and light the grill too while I get baby girl here cleaned up and ready.” 

“As long as you stop talking about yours and Fish’s sex life, I’ll do anything you ask,” Benny begs standing, grabbing the empty plates and mugs. Trying to push the thoughts running through his mind on film reel. 

 Pausing by the kitchen door leading towards the bedrooms, “Careful Ben I might have to take you up on that one. There’s gutters needing cleaned and a garage plus the house needs repainting,” giving him a mischievous smirk at his groan. Pausing to place a chase kiss to his stubbled cheek in thanks for cleaning up. 

“If anyone is evil it’s you woman, go,” waving his free hand at you. “Get our little princess cleaned up we’ll handle this,” heading to the sink to wash dishes. Will heading to the living room to start the fire and Pope out the back door to get the grill going for you. 

Standing there a moment tears pricking the back of your eyes, “Our family little one.” Heading then to her bedroom to change and clean the sticky pie from her hands and face. Coming back out ten minutes later a sugar high little girl running ahead of you and into Will. Who scoops her up holding her against his chest.  

“Y’all might be in for it tonight with sugar baby there,” giving them an apologetic look, handing off Isabella’s backpack filled with cloths and the reusable grocery bag with food to Ben. Giving him a tight hug first, moving to Pope before ending with Will and Isabella giving your little girl a kiss on the forehead. “No, tattoo’s or piercings,” jokingly said a hitch in your voice at seeing her go. 

It's the first time she’ll sleep somewhere that’s not her room it makes your chest tighten in worry. Though you know good well that all three men would protect her with their lives. 

Slinging an arm around your shoulder as you all walk outside, “Don’t worry Y/N we got this have a good time tonight and know that Isa is taken care of.” 

“Three men and a baby huh?” recalling Pope’s earlier comment. “My only question? Which one of you is Tom Selleck?” trying to shake the nerves, using jokes to set everyone including yourself at ease. 

“Who and what are you talking about?” Benny chimed in opening the back door of the truck to place Isabella in her car seat. 

“Guttenberg,” saying the same thing together, you and Pope laugh wrapping an arm around your shoulders for a half hug placing a kiss to your temple. “You’re too young to remember plus it’s chick flick,” quickly moving away from your pinching fingers. 

“They’ve finally cracked, I don’t know what did it but they’ve cracked I tell ya,” Ben playfully mourned only to have Will slam the door almost in his face. 

 “Guess that leaves you as Selleck and me Danson,” Will snarks with a roll of his eyes. “Let’s get this jalopy rollin the Roadhouse waits.” 

“Don’t you even,” giving him a dirty look to which Will just grins, closing the door before you can throw anything at him. “Keep those two in line please Santi.” 

Chuckling, “Don’t worry cariño, princesa is in good hands,” stepping away Pope turns to give you one last wave. “See you tomorrow sometime, just ah let us know when you’re done fuckin don’t want to bring Isa back too soon.” Ducking the mound of dirt you toss at him with a smile on his devilishly handsome face. 

With a wave, you watch them go sigh leaving your lips feeling a little lost without Isabella around. Pocket vibrating breaks you from those thoughts, the guitar solo at the beginning of Angel by Aerosmith starts to play making you smile. Frankie asked you when you made it his ringtone why you picked a song that’s more suited for your ringtone. Shaking your head arms wrapped around his neck explaining that he’s your angel who saved you from yourself. Showing you that despite your size, the past you had you’re worth loving worth cherishing. It took a while for you to actually believe him but once you did, having Frankie Morales as your angel did wonders for your confidence and self-love.

“Hello, my angel,” answering while heading back too inside to get the steaks on the grill and check on the fireplace.   

Leaning against the metal outside wall, one leg bend to press into the builds side, “I think you have that backwards hermosa.” Deep chuckle sounding from his lips, making you shiver despite the warmth of the house. “Pope come get our little one?” 

A shiver of pleasure runs down your body at the sound of his voice, smile blooming widely. “Nope flyboy, my angel happens to actually have metal wings,” giggling leaning against the counter for a moment. “He did, enlisted the help of Benny and Will for the night too,” checking the clock to see you have just enough time to get the steaks and corn grilled along with a quick shower. “Can I expect you at the normal time?” hoping that his asshole boss wouldn’t keep Frankie any longer than a few minutes. 

Bent knee shaking to a beat that’s none existent. His nerves shouldn’t eat at him but the small velvet box rattling around in his pocket gets heavier by the moment. Pulling it out to flip the top still a little unsure if you’ll truly like it. Sunlight caught the round cut chocolate diamond, simply done in rose gold with two trellis of white diamonds cascade down either side. Having bought the ring months back, paying it off a little at a time. Getting lucky by sneaking one of your much-loved rings out to get it sized and back before you noticed it missing. Even hint asking to find out what kind of gems you preferred. Surprised when you tell him about the chocolate diamond. Finding the beautiful stone on a birthday present run with your best friend to the local jewelry store. One that almost matched his eyes and reminded you of him. Soft blush dusted his cheeks at your words that night when you explained tucking away that tidbit of information for later. 

As later came, he went to that very jeweler finding the perfect ring he hoped you’ll love. Above that he prays you’ll say yes to being his wife and mother to his daughter. The very thought of you saying no constricts his heart in a vise grip. One he’s sure will squeeze the organ till there’s nothing left but a hole where you once resided. 

“Frankie?” frowning when no answer comes from the other side of the line. “Everything all right flyboy?” 

Clearing his throat and closing the ring box to stow it back in his pants pocket, “Yes, mi amor everything’s perfect. Sam time as usual, since all the work’s completed there’s just clean up and inventory left.” 

“Don’t be too long baby I’ll have dinner waiting for us, I’ve got a date after all,” teasing tone that’s touched by humor. Knowing you could take this one of two ways and deciding on the provoking one. “My book boyfriend is lonely without me.” 

Groaning, shaking his head and readjusting the cap covering his hair, “Woman you’re teasing again remember what happened this morning when you tormented me. The promise I made you?” Licking his lips at the very thought, “I’m getting my dessert tonight and making you scream my name for everyone to hear.” 

“Promises, promises flyboy I think you’re all talk and no action,” knowing you shouldn’t be teasing him but couldn’t help yourself. Especially when that sexy growl vibrates over the phone making you weak kneed. 

Smiling, Frankie pushes away from the wall needing to get back to work so he could get home to you. “No promise sweetheart just facts,” hating to hang up. “I’ve gotta go mi amor, see you tonight, I love you.” 

“I love you to Frankie, I’ll see you tonight. Now go finish work there’s a present waiting for you when you get home.” Biting your bottom lip, insecurities rising like bile in that back of your throat. Hope and fear warring in your mind after hanging up with Frankie.   

Trying not to dwell on those thoughts while getting the steaks and corn cooked. Once finished you add them to the oven along side the potatoes on warm. Stopping in the living room to check the fireplace and arrange the blankets laying them out for maximum comfort. Heading to the shower to clean up quickly. 

Thirty minutes later, body lotions, hair dry and lingerie in place, putting his camo robe over. You check for what felt like the hundredth time the clock on the wall. Seconds ticking by till Frankie comes home and you’re desperately trying to choose a spot for him to find you in. Laying first by the fire but figuring that didn’t look right. Choosing next to lean against the entrance wall just shy of the door, shaking that idea off as it could expose you to anyone walking down the side walk. The kitchen popped up just causally draped over a chair or the counter. Sighing in frustration when none of the places look right. Till that proverbial lightbulb goes off and your grabbing the book you’ve read for the last couple of nights. Laying on the couch, one leg bent at the knee to show off your bare legs, robe open just enough to display a touch of cleavage and the book open but you’re not really reading. 

Listening for the moment you hear the key slide home into lock, door opening, “Y/N, hermosa where you hiding?” Voice deep and soothing to your nerves a smile tugging your lips upward at the frustrated growl that reverberates from his chest. 

Itching to raise up, show yourself to him but the imp side has you staying in place on display for him. Catching the sound of boots toed off, keys dropped in the little ceramic bowel. Tracking his sock covered footsteps guessing he’s peeked into the kitchen when a soft groan meets your ears. Letting you know his nose took in the smell of dinner. Bottom lip caught between your teeth again patience wearing thin as excitement courses through your veins. Bare foot dancing to the tune of nerves as you peek over to see Frankie’s shadow in the kitchen. Hearing the oven open then close smirk sliding over your lips as another rumble of a groan sounds. 

Soft giggles touch his ears, strong legs eat the distance from the kitchen into the living room. Seeing the fireplace alight, “Please tell me you didn’t…” train of thought crashing when his eyes drop to see you laid out so beautifully for him. Pink tongue coming out to wet his lips, chocolate pools darkening, the twitching in his jeans making itself known. 

Growing even more pronounced with the slow trek your eyes take. Starting at his waist, couch hiding anything lower from your view, licking your lips to trap the bottom one between your teeth. Seemingly a permanent home for the abused lip. Trailing over his shirt covered chest, thick tanned neck that your wanting to nibble. Over his strong jaw and patchy beard, smirk in place when you see his lips parted in shock. Though a part of you worried it’s more because of how little you’re wearing, baring your thick, curvy body to his eyes. However, those thoughts died a very painful death as heat slips into its place with how he’s truly looking at you. 

Unable to keep the gasp from leaving your lips with how desire darken his eyes have become, the crinkling of leather meeting your ears. Making your eyes drop to the callused hands gripping the back of the couch so tightly, knuckles white with the tension and you wonder for a moment if it’ll be ripping soon. Returning your eyes to his, making sure he’s still watching when you return to reading that same paragraph you’ve tried to finish for the last twenty minutes. Loud growl is the only warning you get before the paper bound volume in your hands is ripped away and tossed over his shoulder. 

“Frankie,” trying to infuse a little bit of anger into your cadence. But to your own ears it just sounds breathless and needy. Swallowing hard you rise knowing the robe is opened more baring your black lace covered breasts to his gaze. Going to stand but a hand on your shoulder stops you, sliding down to your arm and tugging you to turn. Kneeling into the couch, the only thing between you both except clothing of course. “Dinner’s ready.” 

Still staring at you, drinking in the sight of your body half exposed to his eyes. Chest raising quickly with every breath you take, the soft smile on your lips that you lick and make him groan. “I don’t want dinner mi amor,” placing hands on either shoulder to push the robe from your body. 

Pooling at your waist the knot still holds fast, “Oh than what do you want mi Rey?” 

“You,” simple word never held so much need and want packed into one syllabi, eyes held to yours. Palms sliding over your skin, talented fingers brush under the lace strap perched on your shoulder. Drawing it down to rest on your bicep, breath hitching when he leans in to place a kiss to where it previously resided. 

Hands going to cup the back of his neck, toying with the short curls under the baseball cap. Head lulling to the side, giving him access to the sensitive skin of your neck. Taking advantage and rubbing his lips over the soft skin. Bearded cheek tickling, making your squirm wanting to pull away but also enjoying the slight burn. One arm stay’s at his neck while the other moves between your bodies giving a little push to his chest. Making another growl vibrate through his body and into yours. Arms coming around your waist to pull you even closer. Teeth ghosting that little spot just under your ear he knows will make you weak. Placing his lips right there to suck a mark while his hands drop to palm your ass and squeeze. A touch of frustration sings through his veins at not having you pressed against his body fully. 

Trying to gather your scattered wits, body thumping with a desperate need, “Frankie,” short whine leaving a dry throat, you try to push him back once more. Not really wanting him to move but the position your both in is only making things difficult. 

“Want me to stop?” Breathing the words into your ear, warm air making a shiver race down your spine. 

Whimpering, “No, but I’d much rather want you closer and not this couch between us.” Loosening his grip on your body, you reluctantly pull back grabbing his ball cap along the way. Soft giggle leaving your lips as you dart out of the reach of his hands. Almost slipping from the couch backwards, managing to catch yourself and get up while placing the cap on your head. Eyeing Frankie as he stands where you left him though leaning forward, as if to jump over the couch to get to you. 

Swallowing hard, heat rising over your skin in the best of ways with how he’s staring at you. An idea pops into your head, fingers going to the knot at your waist. His eyes following the path pausing for a moment to take in your heaving chest, nipples pebbled tight beneath the lace. Licking his lips at the sight before trailing lower to watch with held breath. While nimble fingers untie the knot, letting the Terry cloth fall to pool at your bare feel. Hands itching to wrap around your nearly naked form. To hide from those slowly tracing eyes. 

That make there way back up to your face, hunger, desire, love all warring deeply in those swirling dark chocolate eyes. “Hermosa esposa,” (Beautiful wife.) words spoken almost reverently. Drinking in the sight of your body, wrapped in sheer black lace that hides nothing from his eyes, wearing his much loved ball cap.  Only served to have a streak of possessiveness dance across his mind. Bottom lip caught between his teeth eyes watching caught in the trance that is your beauty with every step you take. 

Swallowing, your feet having a mind of there own as they make the short trek around the couch to stop just shy of reaching him. “Like what you see Frankie?” Worrying your bottom lip, nerves have you fidgeting under the intense stare. Keeping your hands at your sides first then clasping them behind your back. The action pushing your chest out which draws his attention, trying to keep himself from drooling. 

Knowing you’ve said something, asked him a question but his brain doesn’t fire off any response. Instead he steps forward, brushing his fingers over your collarbone, touch light as those deliciously callused digits ghost the skin of your shoulders and down your arms. Wrapping strong limbs around your thick waist to haul you against his strong frame. Gasp leaves your lips that he takes advantage of and swoops in for a kiss that’s anything but delicate. 

Fierce and demanding, pressing his mouth to yours leading with his tongue that goes in to taste and mate with yours. Toying with the muscle before sucking harshly, tasting coffee, something sweet and a flavor that’s all your own. Pulling a moan from deep within your chest that bubbles up at the same time your arms wrap around Frankie’s neck. Pulling him closer wanting to merge the two of you together. His strong body pressing you into the couch, wondering for a moment when you turned, but not caring. As his kiss stole all thought and reason from your mind, turning you to mush in his arms. 

Air becoming a needed commodity making the two of you break apart gasping and resting your foreheads together. “Cariño you can’t wear things like this when I come home.” Pulling back just a little only too groan at the innocently sexy expression in your eyes. 

“Surprise,” tugging at the curls getting a low grunt from the man wrapped around you. “So next time you rather I’m naked spread out on the kitchen table?” Teasingly running your hands up and down his back. Stopping to slide both hands in the back pockets of his jeans, cupping his ass to bring him against your pelvis. 

“Mierda,” head dropping to your shoulder, the bite of the zipper against his cock making him hiss. Needing inside you wanting to make you sing his name for everyone to hear. Panting for breath, “The guys find out about that and they will never eat at the table again.” 

Soft giggles brush his ear, turning your head to press your lips to the shell, “You did say I was your dessert.” 

“I did, didn’t I,” wicked smirk sliding over his lush lips, wrapping one of your legs around his waist to rock against your soaked panty covered folds. Letting you feel how hard you’ve made him, the throb of his shaft beating a rhythm only you can dance too. 

Head tossing back at the feeling, you use that leg to pull him impossibly closer rocking your hips slowly. Lips pressed against his neck, flicking your tongue out to taste the sweat tinged musky skin. Hands moving to his shoulders under the fabric of the red and black plaid to push it from his body down his arms and adding it to the growing pile. Tracing little patterns over his chest soft smirk in place when your fingers brush over his nipples making him hiss at the contact. Lower to the hem of his beige t-shirt clinging to his skin, sliding your fingers under the fabric to tease the warm flesh. 

“I’m your surprise baby, you’re in charge of where this goes,” low growl leaves his lips at your words, making your head spin in desire. That floods your panties with slick and a need to have the man standing in front of you. 

Hands start to dance up his chest, when he bends cupping your ass with both hands and hauling you against his body tighter. Looking over your shoulder to see blankets spread out over the floor in front of the roaring fireplace. “That for us sweetheart?” You nod as he trails one hand around to slide between your thighs and over the soaked gusset of your panties sliding two fingers under the edge and over your puffy swollen lips. “This all because of me?” 

 “You’re to smug Morales,” bitting your bottom lip to keep from moaning. Hips however have a mind of their own as they rock over his questing fingers. “You know that book boyfriend is kinda talented…” rest of the sentence swallowed by the moan exited from your throat. Dropping your forehead to his shoulder a shutter racking your frame with the teasing slide of those thick work calluses fingers through your soaked folds. 

Circling your clit with the tips to give a jolting pinch at the mention of your ‘other’ boyfriend. “Seems I have some competition,” dark chuckle leaving his throat at the same time a whimper leaves yours when he pulls his fingers free to suck clean. Helping you place the leg from his waist to the floor before taking you over to the fireplace. 

Shivers skate across your body at the deep cadence of his tone, the dark promise of what he’s got planned making slick flood your core and drip down your quivering thighs. Fascinated by how deep his chocolate browns have become while staring into those beloved eyes.  

Soft gasp pulled from the back of your throat with his hand upping your cheek, brushing his fingers over the soft skin, free arm wrapping around your waist to pull you flush against him. “When did you get this little number? Better yet why didn’t you take me with you while picking it out?” Dropping his head to the crook of your neck nose brushing over your skin, drawing in the jasmine scent that’s burned into his memory as yours alone. Making his cock throb dangerously. 

Swallowing harshly, “A few weeks ago,” head lulling to the side to give him access. Your own hands returning to that patch of skin just under his shirt. Short nails leaving little tracks over his flesh, marking him as yours. “I ordered it online, first time I’ve worn it other than trying on.” 

“Next time I’m gonna be there to watch you try things on,” nibbling kisses dot your neck and shoulder. His path haphazardly moving to the hollow of your throat, biting down on the sensitive skin and leaving his own purpling mark behind. Sweet moans leave you lips a shiver of arousal pours through your veins at the thought of everyone knowing who you belong to. 

“I’d never get anything tried on if your there flyboy,” nickname rolling off your tongue, brushing your hands higher dragging the shirt with wanting it off. Tracing little patterns with your fingers to brush over both nipples. Making another sharp hiss leave his lips that rest against your collarbone. Breath fanning out hot and moist over your body trying to focus on giving you pleasure. Yet  with each brush of those skillful hands he finds himself getting weaker to your advances. Desperately needing inside you, all those lovely noises you make music to his ears. Taking advantage of the moment you pull back to tug his shirt off tossing it somewhere behind you. Pausing to admire the man who’s captured your heart. Drinking in the sight of his tanned skin, soft yet muscular body gleaming in the firelight. 

You’re truly in awe of this man and so caught up tracing each piece of him you don’t realize he’s stepped closer till warm hands grip your waist. Inching the sheer lace up your body till he gets a peek at the lacy black matching cheeky panties your wearing. Hands gliding around to cup your ass, giving you a hard squeeze, drawing another moan from your lips. Eyes sliding closed as your body sways to lean against him. “Your right cariño you wouldn’t because you don’t need these lacy clothes to tease me. Your mire present does that. You make me rock hard and all you have to do is whisper my name.” Voice taking on an octave lower, filled with a longing and love for you alone. 

“Frankie,” voice low, filled with a deep arousal you try to contain, his words making your heart flutter with love. Knees weakening to the point your sagging against him. Wanting to state the fact he’s got the same power over you. Voice like silk over your skin, making butterflies flutter in your tummy, tingles dance through your body and heat pools low, dampening your panties. “That damn voice.” 

Dark chuckle leaves his lips, hands coming back to bunch the lace in his fists to pull it from your body, joining his shirt. He takes one step back to return the admiration of your body. Fire light dancing off the dips and valleys, highlighting the stiff peaks of your nipples begging for his mouth to worship the soft swells of your breasts and tummy.  How your shyly try to turn away but stay still at the same time. The down turn of your chin however makes a frown appear and a dangerous growl leave his chest. 

Reaching out two fingers to grip your chin raising it and making you look into his eyes. “Beautiful mi amor, you’re stunning, never think you have to hide your body from me,” letting go of your chin to trace a path down your cheek, between the valley of your breasts and around your waist. Pulling you flush against him, feeling his rough body hairs brushing against your softer skin. The satisfaction of having him pressed so intimately soothes all the nerves and dark thoughts making them run squealing back to where they came from. The affirmation of his words through his touch sets your blood on fire with a need to please him. To show him how thankful to have him in your life rises like a tidal wave. 

Cresting the moment you lean in starting to place kisses along his jawline, searching for every spot that draws a moan from his lips. However, Frankie doesn’t let you get very far instead he pulls you back, helping you to sit on the pallet of blankets before the fire. On his knees, he takes the cap from your head placing it on the coffee table behind him. Cupping your cheeks between his large hands, watching you watch him. To lean in for a kiss that’s so achingly tender it has a shiver running over your body that’s got nothing to do with being cold. Arms going around his neck to pull him against you. Teasing the tip of his tongue against the seam of your lips that you open on a sigh. 

Taking that moment to slip his tongue into the warm cavern of your mouth. Tangling your tongues together as your noses brush and angle trying to find the right place to draw in air without having to break apart. When he does your bottom lip becomes caught between his teeth, nibbling the delicate skin, gathering air to dive back in. This time it’s deeper, demanding those little moans from you. He’s rewarded with one that’s dragged from the depths of your soul making a smile tug at the edges against his lips. 

Both gasping for breath, clinging to each other, he noses your chin, running his lips over the delicate skin searching out your mouth again. Drunk on your kisses, the feeling of your hands fisting in his hair, clutching him closer. “Lay back for me hermosa,” opening his eyes to stare at you. Seeing the indecision war with the need to give instead of receive. “You said I’m in charge tonight right?” Nodding not trusting your voice to anything other than totally wrecked right now. “Use your words mi alma.” 

“Yes,” swallowing thickly seeing the desire darkened chocolate eyes bore into your own. A shiver skating across your body at the promise those beloved eyes held. “Yes, I did my love, but you don’t…” he doesn’t let you finish that thought. 

Instead pressing his lips back against yours unhurried. Taking slow sips from your mouth, nibbling your lips, dipping into the warm cavern for little tastes. Making whimpers of need push from your chest as you rub your thighs together for some kind of friction. Warm work roughen hands cup your breasts, giving the soft globes a gentle squeeze. His thumbs circle the peeking nipples before trapping it between it and the index finger. Giving a hard pinch that’s just this side of pleasurable pain. The little tug  going straight to your core, knowing you love how he’s playing you body. Making your back arch against his hand a mewl of need leaving your lips. 

Abandoning your mouth to trail nibbling kisses across your jawline, “I want to mi amor, you’re a goddess and I’m here to worship at your temple.” Breath falling over your neck as those words have a shiver running down your body. Heating the skin, heart thumping behind your rib cage he traces with those wicked fingertips. 

Moving between your legs, rough blue jean fabric abrading the inside of your thighs as he hovers over you. Watching with passion filled eyes, tongue coming out to wet those kiss swollen lips you know you’ll never get enough of. Arms go to wrap around his neck to pull him down to you, but he shakes his head taking both wrists in one of his large hands to place them above your head. 

“Leave them right there sweetheart because if you touch me now I won’t get to taste you,” desperation laces his voice making the cadence drop an octave and drawing a shuttering breath from your lungs. 

Never have you seen this look in those beloved eyes as the one right now, pinning you to the blanket covered floor. Body squirming under that dark gaze, thighs rubbing as fresh slick coats your already drenched panties. “Please,” back arching to press your chest into his hands, desperate to have him in some kind of way. Not above begging to get what you want either, “Frankie I need you,” words coming out on a needy whimper. 

“Patience mi amor I’m a starving man who’s just discovered his favorite dessert,” lips tipped up in a smirk. Resuming his path over your skin. Leaving goosebumps in his wake of teeth nibbling your flesh, sucking kisses placed in spots he knows only serve to make you moan and sigh. His name a whimpered plea from your bitten lips. 

Till reaching the mounds of your breasts, taking one taut nipple between his lips. Sucking sharply and receiving a keening moan that surges straight to his cock. The throbbing pulse robbing a grunt from his chest though he tries to stay unaffected. Your breathy gasps and mewling whimpers start to drive him crazy with passion. Switching to the neglected breast while tugging with his fingers on the abandoned one. Tip of his tongue flicking over the peeked nipple before biting down at the same time his fingers tug the twin. Remembering how sensitive your breasts are and playing them like a skilled master. 

His teasing pulls another shuttering breath from your lungs, sweat glistening over your body. Warmth filling your belly with those familiar tingles, your eyes fluttering shut for a moment drinking in the pleasure Frankie brings to your body. Short gasps and moans leave your parted lips as you try to brag air in your starving lungs. Feeling the first strings of an orgasm start to sing through your veins, knowing he’s trying to kill you sweetly with his mouth. Only to have your eyes fly open and look down when he bites the gentle swell of your tummy. Nuzzling the soft flesh with his nose, his eyes lock with yours. Fingers grasping the band of your panties to peel them down. 

Placing kisses over each inch that’s bared to his hungry gaze. Tongue swirling around your belly button to dip in and nip before placing a kiss just before your soaked, puffy cunt. Impatience rides him hard, wanting to rip the flimsy material from your body. But also wanting you to wear them again. Biting back a groan of frustration he moves to the side pulling the fabric from your body, flinging it behind him. Pausing to taking in your beauty even as you squirm under the intense look in those gorgeous eyes. 

So enrapt by your beauty he doesn’t notice your hands coming down to shield yourself feeling a little self-conscious, till they partially cover your breasts. “Don’t,” the word coming out on a sharp growl that has your eyes snapping back to his. “Don’t ever feel like you have to hide from me Y/N. You’re gorgeous mi amor,” voice rough with unspoken emotions that show in the tight clinch of his jaw. Eyes that drink in every inch of your plush body. 

One hand intertwine’s with yours to bring down against the prominent bulge in his jeans. Hissing when you cup his shaft and squeeze. “You feel what you do to me cariño, what your body does to me?” Seeing you nod, swallowing hard as your fingers tip toe up to above the waist band of his jeans. Drawing your nails lightly over his tummy, watching as he sucks in then exhales making you smile. 

Nimble fingers making quick work with the button and zipper, hand slipping inside the material feeling the throb of his cloth covered cock against the tips of your fingers. Before he pushes them away making you pout at the loss. “Put that lip away sweetheart you’ll get your chance later,” smirk making its way back over his handsome features. Hands placed over your collarbone to draw them down over your curves pausing to dip his head down. Drawing his teeth over the soft flesh of your hips, hands sliding under you to cup your ass. Giving the generous globes a squeeze while sliding down to his belly. 

Groaning when the blanket covered floor makes contact with his erection, moist breath panting over the skin of your hip. Forehead resting on your lower belly to gather himself for a moment. Savoring the softness of your body under him, filling his work roughened hands. Lips worshiping the parts of you that at times make you want to cover and hide. Dipping his tongue along your folds grinning when another keening moan leaves your mouth on a gasp. Back arching to meet his mouth, one arm presses you back down wrapping around your thigh to hold you in place. 

Using those skilled fingers to tease the pearl of your clit. Bullying the little nub with light circling pressure that has stars bursting behind your tightly closed libs. Teeth baring to sink into the flesh of your thigh, leaving marks behind for you to feel tomorrow when your walking a little funny because of him. Repeating the same treatment to the twin thigh while semi ignoring the place you want him most. Only those talented fingers keep with light touches. That serve to drive you crazy with need and want. Trying to buck against him silently demanding more but held in place by his strong arms around your thick thighs. Baring your pussy to his gaze, licking his lips he leans forward to draw just the tip of his tongue from entrance to clit through your folds. Making a soft scream leave your body, smirk sliding back into place. 

That’s still there when you raise your head to look down at him, “Pay back baby…” gasping unable to form the last few words as his fingers have spread your folds. His lips attaching to your clit and sucking harshly, tongue flicking like the beating wings of a hummingbird. Another scream bouncing off the walls as your first orgasm rushes through your system catching you by surprise. Gasping for breath, fingers fisting the blankets below you, tight coil having sprung so quickly your eyes rolled back into your head. 

“Hmm that’s one hermosa I think you can give me another before you take my cock,” chuckling the vibrations shooting through your body making you shake. You try to answer, the words disappear on another whimper, body sensitive to his touches. 

Frankie unwraps his right hand from your thigh, fingers teasing along the seam of your body where thigh meets pelvis. Watching with hooded eyes as you gasp once more trying to collect yourself. Though he doesn’t give you a moment to think, sliding one finger inside your fluttering walls, thrusting slowly. Left hand spreading your folds as his tongue attacks your clit, slowly this time. Giving light little kitten licks, circling with the pointed tip before flicking the throbbing pearl. Crooking the finger inside you to press that little spot with each pass. Adding a second to stretch you open, groaning against your folds, “So tight for me mi amor, every fucking time, God.” Eyes dropping down to watch his fingers disappear inside your tight quivering walls. Curses leaving his lips in broken Spanish his hips rutting against the floor needing relief from the throbbing of his cock. 

He stays transfixed by the sigh of your cunt taking his fingers, the wet sounds with each thrust, the way your thighs shake around him. He adds a third finger, your voice meeting his ears. Though all he can make out if his name and please. Sparing a glance upward his breath catching at what he’s witnessing. Your hands cupping and massaging both your breasts, fingers tugging and pinching the nipples in time with his fingers. The sight burned into his memory one he’ll gladly keep and try to repeat many times over. Seeing you so wanton and free like this bolsters his ego knowing he’s the reason your on display in such a manner. Even as a spark of possessiveness cuts through never wanting anyone else to experience you in this way. 

Sensing eyes watching you, you raise your head to insnare his gaze, licking your lips slowly as your breath catches. Tingles dancing over your body at the way he’s mastered your pleasure. Giving you just what you need and when. Feeling almost as full with his fingers as with his cock though you crave having him deep inside you. But also knowing he won’t give you those desires till you’ve cum once more. Head dropping your back bows when his talented lips seal over your clit. Tongue lapping at the little nub and drawing different patterns to make you see stars explode behind those closed lids. His name chanted to the ceiling while those wicked fingers draw out your pleasure with each stroke and crook. Brushing that hidden spot no man other than Frankie has ever found. A moaning, withering mess under the man’s skilled mouth and hands. That coil tightening in your belly threatening to snap any second. 

Caught between wanting the delicious torture to end but also to continue being the pleasurable pain masochist you’ve become. All at once it becomes too much and not enough, hands shoot down to clutch at Frankie’s head. Tugging his hair and pressing him closer as your orgasm washes over you, his name a scream ripped from your mouth. Breath gasping from your lungs, body shattering around his tongue and fingers. You try to push him away, cunt oversensitive  from the two orgasms he’s brought you. 

Yet he continues tormenting you, with slow thrusts of his fingers, little laps of his tongue. Drawing out your orgasm, working you through each shuttering after shock. Till your spent, hands dropping to your side, eyes closed as you trying to control your breathing. Pulling his drenched fingers from your quivering walls to suck them clean. Humming in satisfaction at your tangy essence, placing one more kiss to your quivering clit making you jump at the contact and moan at the feel, proud chuckle leaving Frankie’s glistening lips. 

Placing kisses as he moved up your body, hovering over you once more. A shutter racing over his frame when your legs wrap around his trim waist, feet crossing at the small of his back to press his swollen jeans covered cock against your tender folds. 

“You’re pretty proud of yourself huh Morales?” Lashes fluttering just peeking up at him to see the smirk forming on his lips. Wanting to be cross with him for all the teasing but couldn’t summing the energy. Fingers carding through his hair tugging at the mahogany strands to bring his mouth down against yours. Tasting the remains of your essence when your tongue dips into his mouth. Mating with his in a dance that pulls a groan from the man above you. 

Hands tracing patterns over his back feeling the muscles shift, short nails lightly digging into his skin as your hips rut in slow circles against his groin. Your own smirk forming when you feel the shutter roll down his body. Detaching his mouth from yours to rest your foreheads together, breath fanning over your face as he tries to hold back just a bit longer. “Now who’s proud of themselves hermosa?”       

Giving a small shrug, one hand coming around to glide up his chest. Brushing over his nipple before wrapping around his neck. “I’d say it’s pretty equal now. Though you’re a little over dressed my love,” free hand sliding down to his ass and giving a squeeze. 

Wrapping his arms around you, Frankie rolls the both of you over, hands going to behind his head. Dark eyes watching you sit up, straddling his waist, wet folds pressing against his throbbing cock. “Undress me princesa.” 

 “Do I get to take my time with you flyboy?” Leaning down to place a chaste kiss to his lips, making sure you rub your body against his. Knowing he’s having a hard time containing himself, catching the way his hands are fisting under his head. “I could really draw this out, pay you back,” with each word you place a kiss. Starting just under his chin, to the pulse point on his neck. Nibbling that little spot for a moment to suck a mark. Moving on to flick each nipple, giving little bites to his sternum. Feeling rather than hearing the growl vibrate through his chest. 

Glancing up to ensnare his eyes, lips pressing into his tummy more times than there are words. Nuzzling the thin line of wiry hair leading down and under his jeans. “Oh look a map it’s a little thin but it seems to lead me to what I want.” Grinning at the groan echoing from his throat, rubbing your cheek into his skin. 

Fingers making quick work of the button, slowly lowering the zipper, hands slipping under the fabric to push from his hips. Leaving his boxer briefs on for now while working those sinfully sexy jeans from his body, depositing the behind you. Sitting on your knees between his legs, drinking in the sight  of your love. Running the palms of your hands up his calves to strong trembling thighs, fingers edging the stretchy material that hides little from your imagination. Bracing one hand on his hip you lean down to kiss the very visible patch of wetness. Knowing the crown of his cock rests beneath, lips much like this morning teasing the sensitive head. As your fingers tip toe up to pull down the band of his underwear. Baring his shaft to your hungry glaze, yanking the undergarment down his legs and straddling his right thigh. Rubbing yourself over the quivering muscle that flex’s with the touch of your wet cunt against his skin. 

“Shit ba… baby please,” whimper leaving his lips at the feel of your soft lips brushing over the crown. Warm breath making him twitch in need, hands having come from under his head to fist the blankets below. Knowing he won’t last long with how your teasing and tormenting him. Eyes rolling to the back of his head when the warmth of your mouth engulfs the crown. Free hand stroking his shaft, pulling the foreskin back to reveal the sensitive cock head to your lips. Tongue finding that one little spot just under the crown which never fails to make him lose his shit.

Hips thrusting upwards filling your gapping jaw having prepared yourself for that very moment and relaxed to take him down. Saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth, coating your fingers helping to lubricate your movements. A whine leaves the back of your throat when Frankie pulls you off his cock, catching sigh of the wrecked look on his face. The trembling of his body, the curses slipping from his lips in a mix of Spanish and English. 

“Can’t wait hermosa, need to be inside you, need you to ride me,” voice desperate and cracking. Not pausing in his movements to line you up, knees on either side of his waist. Like a rag doll you let him position you where he wants, not coming back to yourself till you feel the bunt tip of his cock run through your folds.

“Frankie…” calling out to try and gain his attention through the desire fogged brain. Unsure of the position, one that you’ve never tried together. Though you couldn’t say it not one you hadn’t thought about. You just didn’t want to hurt him by being on top. 

Shaking his head, positioning your body over his throbbing length. One hand wrapping around the base, long light strokes as he lines himself up. Even with his passion hazed mind, he knows your wanting to disagree with him. Making him sit up, cupping the back of your neck, “My choice mi amor I want to feel you around me, watch you bounce on my cock. See these beautiful eyes,” tracing his fingers to your cheek, brushing over your closed lids. “I want to watch you take your pleasure from me. Please mi ángel,” voice deep and tinged with want.

Lifting your lashes to stare at Frankie, using his shoulders to raise up as he teases your folds with his cock. Brushing over your clit, making you tremble in his arms before lining yourself up and sinking down slowly. Till your thick thighs are pressed against his hips, head tossed back at feeling so full. The slight burn of being stretched by his cock never fails to make you shutter in his arms. 

“So fucking wet, tight,” muttering the two words over while burying his face in your neck. Arms wrapping around your waist as yours move to wrap around his shoulders pressing your bodies together. Letting the fullness feeling wash over you, consuming your body. The steady throb of that vein reverberating through your system making you whimper, rolling your hips against his groin. 

“Baby please I need to move,” little whines leaving you lips a gasp wrenched from the depths of your soul when he lays back pressing his cock even deeper inside you. Large hands on your hips grounding him, watching with hooded eyes. Feet planted to thrust slowly up into your quivering walls,  filling you so completely you don’t know where you end and he begins. Not that you care at the moment, as your worry melts away with the tender heated look he’s giving you. 

“Ride me sweetheart,” bottom lip trembling before caught between his teeth. Watching you place a hand on the center of his chest. Rising up till just the cock head rests in the circle of your fluttering walls. Slowly sinking back down teasing the both of you with long deep strokes, moaning when he brushes over your g-spot each time. 

Eyes rolling back a gasp leaves your lips when warm hands come up to cup and massage your breasts. Tugging the peaked nipples making your walls squeeze his shaft tighter. A groan forced from his parted lips at the feeling. Watching the way your features morph in pleasure, biting your bottom lip with eyes tightly closed. 

“Look at me hermosa,” the command is hard to ignore combined with the tugs of his fingers at your nipples making you gasp. You slowly do as he asked entranced by the way he’s watching. Tongue coming out to wet his parched lips, breath catching in his throat at the sigh you present him. Sweat coating his forehead, dripping down the side of his face, chest glistening as you take him in. Hungry eyes devouring the look of pleasure, the needy little grunts expelled from his mouth. “Lean back on my knees I wanna watch my cock disappear into that pretty cunt of yours.” 

Whimpering, pausing your movements to do as he asks. Bracing yourself with hands on either side of you on the floor. Pressing your back against his bent knees that have lowered just a fraction so your spread out backwards on display for his eyes. Hips rolling against his groin, body undulating against him the movements slow and delicate. Filled with a passionate abandonment that never fails to make Frankie smile. Head tossed back gasping breath leaving your parted lips, forgetting about everything that’s not centered on Frankie and the movement of your hips. 

“So beautiful amor,” licking his lips, hand moving down to circle the little pulsing pearl with light pressure. Watching you quiver around him, feeling your walls squeeze his shaft, almost to the point of sucking him in deeper. Eyes glued to the apex of your thighs, observing how his cock disappears while his fingers draw different patterns over your clit. The sight nearly making him cum right then combined with the noises your making he knows it’s not long before he’s falling into the arms of pleasure. 

Siting up unable to keep his hands and mouth from you any longer, Frankie wraps his arm around your shoulders bringing you down with him. Mouth’s attached in a deep tangling of a kiss that’s pulling small little mewling whines and whimpers from you. Keeping his fingers on your clit tapping and circling making you gasp into his mouth. All the more with the vise like grip of his free arm around your waist holding you in place as his hips thrust upwards. In quick and deep punishing thrusts, chasing that high only you can give him but first he wants you to see the stars. Knowing your getting closer with each thrust, the tight clinch of your walls around his shaft, making him grit his teeth. 

With that thought and a need for air you break apart, lips going to your ear, “So fucking good to me mi amor,” groaning breathless. “Taking my cock like a good girl, letting me fuck you like this. Christ the things you make me feel mi vida. I’ll never get enough of you.” 

“Frankie,” another whimper of his name leaves your lips that your bury into his shoulder. Eyes dropping closed the closer you get to your release. Trying to grasp on to your sanity with each deep, hard stroke he delivers to your body. His words only serving to make you shiver even harder and when he hits that spot you blank. Mouth gapping in a silent scream of his name, release washing over you and coating his cock that keeps hammering into your quivering cunt. 

Teeth sinking into the flesh of your shoulder sucking a mark into the soft skin. Working you through your orgasm as his own begs for release. Balls tightening against his shaft as his hips start to falter in his pace. Hot moist breath leaving his nose that nuzzles the side of your throat over the mark he’s left. Eyes clinch tightly, cock throbbing to his heart beat as he spills his seed deep inside your body. 

Both of you are out of breath Frankie moving his hips in short shallow thrusts feeling your combined juices seeping out around his shaft. Groaning when he remembers the one thing he forgot. Hearing the sound you place a kiss to his neck, loopy smile gracing your features. Raising your head to look down at him, hips finally stopped even as the pleasurable after shocks still make your body tremble. 

Kissing his chin, nosing that little spot where no beard grows, nipping the skin gently, “Shall I move baby? Am I squishing you?” 

“Fuck no you ain’t hermosa and if you don’t stop saying shit like that I’m gonna smack your ass. You feel too damn good laying there and I don’t want to move from inside you.” Realizing what he just said heat floods his cheeks staining them a soft red. “I’m sorry mi ángel, I just don’t like you talking that way about yourself.” 

Biting the inside of your cheek to keep the moan from escaping at his words, the force of his tone making you clinch around him tightly. Praying he hasn’t felt the change in your demeanor or the way your heart flutters at his words. Though you should’ve known better when thumb and forefinger pinch your chin to rise it from looking at his chest. 

“Amor?” Having felt that squeeze around his shaft, making his heart hammer against his ribs. “Does that thought excite you sweetheart?” 

Soft whimper leaving your lips with a shake of your head though you focus back on what you’d intended to ask him after hearing the groan. Trying to divert his train of thought away from a newly found kink. “Why’d you groan if not because…” biting your bottom lip when you feel the stinging bite of his hand coming down on your right butt cheek. Chocking on the moan that tries to leave your lips as his fingers rub the offended area. Burying your heated face in his chest that rumbles under your head. “S’not funny Fransisco,” pinching his side getting a yelp that brings a smirk to your lips. 

“Woman you should be wore out,” hearing your playful huff. “Hmm seems I have more work to do mi amor, your still able to think and pinch.” Running his hands over your back, rolling the two of you over so he can stare down into your beautiful eyes softening cock slipping from your warm depths. Making you both groan at the loss. “And as to why I groaned a moment ago,” looking sheepish he leans up to kiss your forehead. Leaving his lips pressed there before speaking, “In my haste to have you cariño I forgot to use a condom.” 

Thinking for a moment, small chuckle leaving your lips that turns into full giggles you can’t keep inside anymore. Holding onto Frankie tightly, burying your face back into his neck, breathless laughter ghosting over his skin. Frown marring his features when he feels the shaking that turns into confusion as those giggles reach his ears. 

“It’s not funny sweetheart we haven’t talked about…” fingers covering his lips to stop the flow of words. 

Eyes locking with the worried chocolate orbits, “Frankie my love if we happen to make a baby tonight I would be over the moon with joy. That’s why I’m giggling,” smiling, little chuckles still escaping. “I want to have your child mi rey,” cupping his cheek to bring his lips down to yours. Placing nibbling kisses before a full press slipping your tongue into his mouth, coaxing a moan from deep within. Pleased smile tugging your lips up as you draw back, “Even if it’s not tonight I wouldn’t say no to trying every night.” 

“Mi amor,” endearment spoken on the tail end of a moan. Smile so blinding its as if the sun has been captured and brought inside to shine just for you. Holding you close he crashes his lips against yours, taking your moans and swallowing them. Sloppy and fierce, a clash of teeth and tongues, each trying to dominate the other. Till air becomes needed and you break apart gasping for breath. “You sure?” Worry creasing his brow, chocolate eyes filling with uncertainty as he looks at you.

Brushing your thumb over the apple of his cheek, leaning up to place your lips over his, “I’m positive Frankie I want to give Isabella a brother or sister to play with.” 

Moving off you, hearing the whimper you make, “Don’t move baby I’m not going far.” Reaching for his jeans a nervous smile sliding over his face as he pulls the little black velvet box from the denim. Pausing to flip the lid staring at the chocolate diamond for a moment, till he feels you move soft hand coming to rest on his back. 

“Frankie?” Undertone of worry in your voice as you raise up on your knees waiting for him to turn and face you. Bottom lip caught between worrying teeth, fearful that you’ve said the wrong thing. Pushed him too far with the baby comments, Santi’s words coming back to you about marriage and asking Frankie first. Before thinking things through fully the words fall from your lips, “Marry me Morales?” 

“What?” Shock coloring his gasp, turning quickly to stare down at you. Swallowing hard, “What did you just ask me?” Trying to keep the box fisted in his hand so you can’t see it yet. 

Knowing there’s no reason for these feelings and thoughts to flow through your mind but his quick movements and no real answer causes the doubt to creep in. Eyes downcast not wanting to see the rejection in those chocolate pools you love so much. “I… I… I mean you don’t have to answer it’s just a silly question. I just thought,” biting you lip to keep the tears from slipping out of there ducts. 

“What silly question amor?” Fighting the urge to tip your chin up to see your beautiful face. Frankie waits and when you don’t answer he opens his fist in front of you. Flipping the box open, “You mean this question mi vida?” 

Gasping, eyes landing on the beautiful ring nestled into the plush black velvet, “Frankie?” Hands coming up to cover your mouth as tears slip free though they’ve changed to happiness as you stare up at him. 

“I wanted to ask you differently baby really I wanted to try something a little more romantic. Maybe candles and dinner, down the on one knee” rubbing the back of his neck scrambling for the right words.

“You mean,” hiccuping as a bright smile tugs your lip. “You didn’t plan on proposing to me naked right after we made love?” 

Rolling his eyes at your snark, free hand coming over to brush your tears away and cupping your cheek, breath catching when you place your own hand on top. Nuzzling the palm and placing a kiss to the center, “You deserve better, something special, flowers and chocolates and music playing. Not us naked…” 

Watery happy smile, placing your other hand over his mouth a moment, “Crap I don’t need Frankie I only want you and Isabella, you’re my life.” Taking a deep breath, scooting closer on your knees till your just a hairs breath away from him, “Yes.” 

“I haven’t asked you yet woman you can’t… wait what?” Chocolate eyes shocked wide by that simple little word. He’d hoped you’d say yes, dreamed of it from the moment he fell in love with you. But to hear you say yes still stole his breath and any other words he’d planned to say. 

Soft giggles leave your lips, dropping your eyes down to the ring box in his hand and back up to his. Wrapping your arm around his neck to pull his forehead down to yours, carding through the short curls at the back of his head. “Then you better ask me flyboy so you can make an honest woman out of me in case you’ve knocked me up.” 

“God sweetheart,” eyes slipping closed for a moment just breathing in your scent and warmth, savoring you, for a few heart beats, until he finally gather’s his wits. “Marry me amor, become my wife mother to Isabella and as many more child’s as you want. I don’t want to live this life without you beside me, please marry me,” whispering he last three words. Heart thumping wildly, fearful it’s all a dream and he’ll wake up back in that rehab with no proper out look for his life. 

“Yes Fransisco, yes I’ll marry you, I love you baby. Though,” watching his eyes open to stare back, so many emotions filtering through those beautiful eyes. “I’m not giving birth to five children I’ll leave at least two for you to push out of your dick.” 

Gruff laughter leaves his lips, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you against him, crashing your lips together in a hard, desperate kiss. Ring forgotten till it slips from his fingers in a bid to cup your ass and press you closer. 

“We can have as many children as you want amor,” unwrapping his arms to bring the box back to show you. Plucking the band from its snuggled confines. He grasps your left hand bringing it to his lips and kissing the ring finger. Keeping his eyes locked with yours while slipping it on your fourth digit, before dropping to look. “Prefect fit.” 

“Just like us,” leaning in to brush your lips over Frankie’s. Smirk gracing your features, “Remember we already have four kids and Isabella’s the mature one.” 

Deep happy laughter leaves Frankie’s chest, arms going back around your waist to haul you against his body. Properly sitting with his back against the couch, cradling you in his arms, playful smile on his lips, “Shame that three of them still need house broken.”

“Frankie,” your laughter joining his as you straddle his thighs settling in his lap. Letting your mirth simmer while looking at your ring, still unable to believe you’re gonna be married. “Pinch me,” soft yelp leaves you, trying to summon a glare to direct his way but failing miserably. 

“What you asked me to pinch you cariño,” soothing the pain he gave to your ass with the palm of his hand, cupping both generous globes to pull your pelvis flush with his. “Don’t worry I’ll kiss and make it all better baby unless you want something different.” Remembering the way you curved into his hand when he spanked you earlier. The memory of how tightly your quivering cunt gripped his cock, makes a moan leave his lips. Cock throbbing against your slick folds, demanding attention from the moment you straddled his thighs. 

Experimentally smacking your ass feeling you quake against him, breath hitching in your throat chocking off a moan. “Frankie,” rocking your hips against his growing shaft. Feeling his fingers dip between your folds finding you soaked and throbbing. 

“Like that don’t you baby, like when I smack this beautiful ass of yours,” low growl leaving his lips that attack your neck. Drawing another whimper of need from deep with in your body. “I know you do, can feel it you’ve soaked my fingers and I’ve barely touched you.” 

Rubbing your nose against his neck breathing in his scent mixed with the heady scent of sex and sweat. Amazed how he’s flipped from the sweet Frankie to sexual beast mode in seconds. “Don’t tease handsome please,” whimpering, all thought leaving your mind except for the way Frankie’s talented fingers feel. Strumming your body like a master to drag out moans and whines of pleasure. 

“As you wish amor,” slipping inside of you slowly, gritting his teeth at the tight squeeze of your walls. “I’m warning you now we’re not getting any sleep tonight baby. I’m gonna have you on every surface of this house I can.” 

Smirking, “Promises, promises Morales,” pulling back to stare into his molten chocolate eyes. “Actions,” gasping when he pulls half way out and thrusts back home. Hitting your g-spot, his pelvis moving to rub against your clit deliciously making stars shoot across your vision. Trying to form the rest of the words to tease him, “Speak louder than,” soft scream leaving when he dips to the side rolling the two of you so he’s hovering over you. 

Grasping your thighs to push them against your chest, pushing his cock ever deeper inside your depths. Eyes rolling back missing the smirk on his plush lips, “You’re saying amor?” Wedging his upper body between your thighs, legs draped over his shoulders, his knees braced apart for stability. Hovering over you with hands gripping your ass to lift a fraction off the ground and start a punishing pace. 

Making good on that truth, neither of you getting much rest that night. Finally eating dinner around mid-night, thankful that Frankie had turned the oven off earlier in the evening. Rewarding him for his thoughtfulness with a blowjob at the dinner table, making good use of the Reddi-whip. In turn Frankie snatched up what was left of the pie having a second helping of his dessert, with you spread out over the kitchen table. 

Reliving that moment in your mind you don’t hear the question Santi asks. Only breaking out of the smirk causing memory when Frankie places his hand on your thigh giving a squeeze. Looking from him back to Santi, “Hmm,” clearing your throat with a sip of coffee. “I’m sorry Pope what did you ask?” 

Chuckling, “Off daydreaming again cariño, hope it’s as good as the smirk on your face.” Lifting a dark brow, Pope watches you for a moment catching the subtle shift of your body, Frankie’s cheeks dusting red. Guessing the two of you spent much of the night and early morning celebrating. If the marks littering the both of you indication anything accompanied by the way your both leaning against each other. 

Thankful he called before driving over with Isabella and eager to hear weather you said yes. Though he knew better than anyone the answer which becomes confirmed while you hugging Will, chocolate diamond glinting in the sunlight filtering through the front door. After a round of hugs, claps on the back and congratulations along with very happy giggles from Isabella everyone settled in the kitchen for coffee. 

Drawing your thoughts back from this morning smirk only growing on your face, Frankie leans over, seeing the intent in your side profile, “Don’t do it hermosa.” Warning growl in his tone, hand still on your thigh giving a harder squeeze. Isabella’s little giggles the only answer he receives to the warning, wrapped in her mother’s arms and oblivious to everything except playing with your hair. 

“Well Santiago if you must know it’s even better,” chuckling evilly when Frankie groans head landing on your shoulder. Blindly reaching over to cover Isabella’s ears. “Just reliving late last night when Frankie got to have his second dessert.” 

Confused for a second, eyes widening comically as he looks from you to the table place he’s currently sitting at and back. “Your telling me,” words sputtering out as he pushes violently backward, chair scratching across the tiled floor. “You could’ve warned a guy Y/N,” shaking his head in part disgust and part amusement. “Tell me you at least disinfected it before we sat down?”

Shrugging, “Where’s the fun in that Pope, besides it’s only fair after all Frankie got to see the stars right there in that chair first.” Licking your lips glancing at both Will and Benny who haven’t caught on yet. The harsh crash of his chair makes you bust out laughing, holding onto the table for support and cleaving into Frankie who’s red as a tomato. 

“That’s just… fucking hell,” wiping at this ass and thighs like there’s something there. 

Confused till he looked between the two of you, the table and Santiago. Deep groan leaving his lips as he head comes down to rest in his hands, “We eat on this table now it has to be burned.” 

“What? Why?” Thinking for a second, comprehension clicking into place Benny jumps up scrubbing his hands along his pant legs. “That’s just wrong so fucking wrong now I have that in may head to. I take back the marriage proposal Y/N, Frankie can have you.” Though the grin on his lips speaks differently. It however doesn’t reach his normally expressive eyes. Hiding a secret he’s kept buried for far to long knowing now there’s no chance of it coming to the light of day. 

“How generous of you Benjamin,” playfully rolling your eyes, giggling when you look at Frankie seeing his eyes have narrowed on his friend. You lean over, “No worries flyboy you know you’re the only one.” 

Chuckling he places a kiss to your cheek giving you a wink, “I know.” Standing to round the table, “So you proposed to my girl huh?” Trying to infuse a touch of anger to his tone that fails miserably with the grin on his lips. “Dude what happened to the code of friendship huh?”

Stepping back, hands up in mock surrender, playful grin o his chapped lips. “You know I didn’t mean it like that Fish, Y/N’s a sister to me.” Words tasting and sounding bitter to his own ears. Looking too Will and Santi for help, finding none except fake disapproving frowns, arms crossed. Glancing at you and Isabella with a pleading look getting no help. 

“Shit,” little voice speaking into the silence every set of adult eyes land on her, giggling follows with little claps of her hands before burying her face in your chest shyly. 

Peels of laughter ring out around the kitchen Will beating the table with his fist, head hanging with broad shoulders twitching. Benny and Frankie leaning on each other as tears of mirth slip down their cheeks, Pope leaning against the island to stay standing up right his own body shaking in laughter. While you hold her close laughing, shaking your head at the sight of your family. “Your daddy and uncles are silly little one,” kissing her forehead locking eyes with Frankie when he turns to you. Seeing the love saturating those chocolate eyes, soft grin pulling at his lips. 

“I love you mi alma’s,” playfully pushing Benny from his shoulder to come around and kiss both your foreheads. 

Reaching up to cup his cheek, bringing him down to touch your lips together in a tender kiss, “I love you to my real soon to be husband.”  

Sure you still read get carried away into another world of your books. However, not so deeply that you neglect your husband’s needs and wants along with your own. Besides you know he’s so much better than any old book boyfriend.

THE END 

[shadoedseptmbr]

fic post

So it’s Shepard’s Birthday, April 11th.  And I wasn’t going to post anything but I had a wild hair this morning and now I’ve got a ficlet!  

2185 Earthside

Commander Alenko was staring down at the package in his hand in confusion when his comms pinged.  “Yeah?”

“Message from the Citadel. Captain Anderson for you, sir.”

*Anderson?*  “Sure, patch him through, Pachi.”  He glanced up at the vid screen, the signal a little scrambled from the dust storm that was raging in the atmosphere above the outpost.  “Afternoon, Captain.  It’s nice to hear from you.”

“Staff Commander!  Kaidan you look good.  I’m sorry I couldn’t get away for your promotion ceremony.”  

“Ah, Thanks. My folks got to be there, again. Mom got to do the honors, so it was...it was good. Captain, do I have you to thank for this?”  He held up a small, beautifully blown bottle of exceedingly expensive whisky.  A Japanese brand that he’d only seen on tasting menus.  

The man’s broad face split in a grin.  “I had it set to let me know when it was delivered.  Hope you don’t mind me presuming.”  

“We’re off on a training maneuver tomorrow, I’m just glad I was here to pick it up.  This is a really nice gesture, sir.” A little confusing.  Anderson had pinned his oakleaves for Lieutenant Commander after the debrief was over, before...before Shepard’s memorial but Kaidan really hadn’t expected him to take much interest in his career, now that...well.  

It had been almost 2 years. 

“Honestly, Alenko, it’s not just for that, though it’s a nice coincidence.  No.  You know what today is, right?”

“Thursday, where I am.  April eleventh, by the old calendar. April...Oh.”  Kaidan stared off.  “It's her birthday.”  There’s a flash of a memory; the uncertain look in wide grey eyes as he handed her a beer from his private stash, a devil may care grin plastered on as she turned back to the crew she’d been sidling away from.  Her fingers lingering on his, just for a second, as she turned. 

Kaidan had to suck in a breath.  

“Yeah.  Forgive an old man, I wanted to share a drink with the one person I figured would care. Missed you last year, you were on mission.” 

He had been. Kaidan frowned, staring down at the bottle.  He could think of a couple of others who’d miss her, too.  But…

“Sir, I’m…” Honored seemed like the wrong word. “I’d like that. Give me a second.”  It’s only two in the afternoon and he’s got preliminary meetings until dark.  But he’ll...figure it out.   He glanced around his quarters and spied the tea he’d just finished when the private had dropped the package off. He tossed the remaining drips out the door and cracked the red wax seal on the bottle.

When he looked back at the screen, Anderson was staring down into a glass highball, a couple fingers of amber liquid clinging to the glass as he turned it slowly in his hand.  Maybe it was the tricky connection, but he looked...tired.

He jostled out of his reverie as soon as Kaidan spoke.  “Ready, sir.”

Anderson held his glass up a few million klicks across the galaxy. “Aedan Shepard.  Damn few like her.  Pain in my ass and a goddamned delight. Kid, I...I think if you were here you’d be kicking our asses for moping.  But, you’re not.  So…” He paused a long second and cleared his throat. “Fair winds and following seas, Commander.”  He clinked the glass against his vid screen and Kaidan did the same. 

 “Aedan Shepard.”  The whiskey was a line of smooth fire down his throat, burning past the knot and...well, he could blame it for the burn in his eyes, too.  He hadn’t had much more than a beer in months.  He hadn’t dreamed of her in...not quite that long.  

They finished their drinks in companionable silence before a ping on Anderson’s end brought it to a close.  Kaidan stared at the bottle after the screen went dark. Still a few drinks left in it.  

Considered.  She really would have kicked his ass for moping when there was work to do.

He popped open his footlocker, pulled out a wool sweater and wrapped the bottle carefully. It was packed down at the bottom before he left his quarters. 

2186 SSV Normandy SR2

“I cannot fucking believe you called me from a fucking warzone for this.  How do you even know what day it is, Boss?”  

Kaidan couldn’t keep the grin from his face at the fond exasperation in her voice from the comm room.  Anderson’s figure flickered in front of her, a mirroring grin splitting his own face.  He chuckled as a mug appeared in his hand from off vid.  “One of my staff celebrated Easter last weekend. Figured it was probably about the right day.”

Aedan glanced back as the glasses in his hand clinked against each other.  “What the...Kaidan…”

 He bussed her on the cheek. “Be still for five minutes and let us have this.”

“You’re both lunatics.”  But she took the glass he handed her and cackled as the spirit hit her nose.  “This cost more than my rifle, didn’t it?”

“Might have.  Enjoy it, because I think mine was made in a boot.” Anderson sniffed it and winced.  “An old boot. With the foot still in it.” He lifted his mug.  “Kid…”

“Oh, god, here we go,” she muttered and Kaidan stepped on her tapping foot.

“Nah.  I’m not gonna make you blush, as fun as it...”  A burst of fire broke not too far away and Anderson shook his head.  “Damn it. Happy birthday, Shepard.  Many more, all right?” He drained off his drink as they did the same.

“Okay.”  An explosion flickered and she scowled, Kaidan could feel tension radiating from her. “You got this?”

“Yeah, kid.  Don’t start worrying about me now, it’ll make me nervous.”  

“Give ‘em hell, Anderson.”  Kaidan lifted his empty glass.  

“Bet on it, Major.”

“We’ll be back, soon.”  Aedan promised as the image flickered out.  “Goddamn it.”  Her knuckles were white as they clenched on the railing around the QEC platform as if she’d have launched herself over it, to get back to him, given a hint that physics wouldn’t stop her.

“Hey.”  Kaidan turned her towards him and set their glasses down.  “He asked me to make sure you had a decent couple of hours if we couldn’t get back to the Citadel for a break.”  

“Kaidan…”

“Nope.  There’s a deck full of crew and a cake the size of your MAKO in the mess.”  

She glanced past him.  The war room was nearly empty and she leaned her head against his chest.  “It’s not the best…”

The frustrated noise he made stopped her. “I promised myself that I would never let you miss this day, again.  If I got the chance.  If we…”  He tipped her chin up.  “It’s a good day for me, the day you came into the world, okay?”

Her expression softened.  “Oh.”  She pressed up to kiss him, gently, before adding, “Uh...you know it’s just a day picked out of a hat, right?  I didn’t have like...a birth certificate or anything.”  

“Maybe so.  But still...cake.”  He kissed the tip of her nose and chuckled when she wrinkled it at the scrape of his stubble.

“And beer, too?” Aedan asked, hope in her voice

“Might be, you’ll have to come find out.”  Her long fingers laced with his reminded him of that fleeting touch. Years ago, now.  That first indication that maybe...maybe she felt something like...Kaidan tightened his hand around hers.

“Just for you, I guess.” She let him lead her down out of the comm room but she glanced back over her shoulder to the glasses on the rail.   

He heard her whisper, “Take care, Boss.”

[writersarchivex]

New Job- One Shot

a/n: basically y/n just got a new job, and before her first day she goes out to celebrate with some friends. she meets harry at the bar. things happen. b o o m.

warnings: angst, adult language, drinking, mentions of sex.

!theres no smut in this guys . give me a break this is my first time posting on tumblr!

words: 1.6k

After months of looking and years of hard work at college, Y/N finally got the call. She had gotten her dream job at a law firm, which might not sound like much but it very much so is. All her life this had been just what her dad wanted for her, to grow up and become a powerful lawyer and strong young woman.

So that’s what she did. She worked her ass off, never attending parties and never straying far from the lines. Pretty much everything she did was to please the memory of her beloved father.

Tonight though, was a change of pace for Y/N. A group of her friends invited her to the local bar, after finding out about her new found job.

“Come on Y/N. One drink. Live a little before you jump into that great job of yours.” Mia said into the phone.

Y/N sighed and looked around at her apartment. She didn’t really have any plans for the night, and there wasn’t any harm in having one drink with her friends. I mean, how often do you get to celebrate things like this right?

“Fine, Mia. Just one drink. No funny business though, I really can’t go in tomorrow with a hang over.” Y/N smiled.

One drink very quickly became two, and two became four. Y/N was very drunk. The room was a bit blurry, but she was certainly sober to know she’d had enough.

Mia and the group were having a blast, and of course she was as well. This type of thing was never Y/N’s scene. She was more of the ‘stay inside with a blanket and a book’ kind of girl.

She kind of hated nights like this. The smell and taste of alcohol overpowering her senses, drunk sweaty people dancing around, and a black dress that was all too short and uncomfortable.

After looking at her friends a while more, she had decided she was done. It’s way past time to call it a night.

She gave a smile to know one in particular, and turned to get her wallet.

She did not expect though, to be met with very pretty eyes and the most gorgeous hair she has probably seen on a man, or any human being for that matter.

“Can I buy you a drink, love?” The man asked, eyeing her carefully up and down.

His voice was dripping with attractiveness, and a beautiful english accent.

“Uhm, I really should be going. Thank you though,” She did her best to be polite.

Although the man looked like a literal gift from God, she really needed to get home.

She missed her pajamas. And her cat.

“Come on, just one. If you really wanna go after that, I’ll call you an uber.” He smiled.

Okay, by now Y/N was very sure she was dreaming. No man that sexy can possibly be that kind. Nope.

She looked at him carefully, like he did to her just moments ago. He was quite tall compared to her, and he was wearing a very nice suit, that fit him perfectly. A businessman maybe?

The man continued to patiently wait, until she gave her answer.

“Okay fine one drink, can I at least have your name?” She smiled at the curly headed man.

He clapped his hands together softly, and let out a chuckle.

“I’m Harry.”

——————————————————————————

Y/N felt the warmth of the sun on her as she slowly sat up in her bed. The memories of last night still a mystery in her mind.

All she knew is that, somehow she was not late for work.

And there was someone in her bed.

A man was laying next to her, facing the opposite direction. From what she could see, he was hot. He certainly had a very nice back.

“I’m Harry.”

Memories from the night prior flooded her mind. She began to slightly panic. She’s never experienced anything like this before, and she didn’t quite know what to do with the man in the bed next to her.

He was fast asleep, and right now she wishes she were dead. Out of all the stupid things she's ever done, this seems to take the cake. 

Trying her best not to wake the man, Y/N made her way quietly out of her room. I mean, she could just get ready for work? Let him wake up on his own?

With the few times that she had gotten drunk in the past, she's never really had a hang over. Call it good karma, or maybe just luck.

She examined her self in the mirror, noticing the hickeys that littered her pale chest.

"Jesus. Couldn't he have aimed a little lower there Harry." She grimaced, turning away from the mirror.

Although she felt a little stupid and embarrassed, she didn't really regret sleeping with the man in her bed.

He seemed mature, which is always nice in situations like this. Not to mention he was mind numbingly attractive.

—

Soon after her shower was finished and she had gotten ready for work, she stepped out of the bathroom trying her best to prepare to wake the man up.

It took every bone in her body not to just let him stay there until he deemed fit to leave, but she figured that wouldn't be the best of ideas. She walked down the small hallway and quickly noticed the smell of coffee surrounding the apartment.

Walking into the kitchen, the man was stood in just his boxers, patiently waiting for the coffee to brew.

Standing there she decided to indulge herself a bit. She never really gets the pleasure of housing someone like this in her apartment, so she figures it wouldn't hurt to admire a bit.

"The mugs are in the top cabinet." She was a bit surprised by how weak her voice was, considering how confident she was last night.

He turned quickly and gave her a quick smile. He seemed a bit wrecked, which was a given under the circumstances.

"Hangover?" She asked, slowly making her way to the medicine cabinet.

He nodded and sat with his cup of black coffee, placing his hands around his head.

"Yes. You seem perfectly fine though. Is it bad that i kind of wish you were hungover too?" He laughed a bit, but quickly grimaced at the sound of his own voice.

What he said made her giggle a bit, before she handed him a few ibuprofen.

He mumbled a quick thank you and finished his cup of coffee.

He stood, placing his hand on either side of the counter where Y/N sat.

Suddenly, she felt like she was in junior high all over again. Y/N felt her cheeks go hot and it felt like every sign of breath had vacated her lungs.

"Hangover or not. From what i can remember, last night was great." He said in a slight whisper.

He was close enough now, that Y/N could feel his breath on my neck. It sent shivers down her spine and she could've swarm she would die right on the spot.

He placed his lips on hers gently, and boy she could've sworn she felt sparks. Her whole face was on fire at this point. No man, or woman, has ever had quite this effect on her.

"I wish I could stay love, but I have to head in to work in about an hour." He said, tracing circles on the side of her arm.

She smiled and looked at the clock, she still had about thirty minutes before she had to get to the firm, and living pretty close surely helped her situation.

"It's okay you can go. It was nice- meeting you Harry."

He gave her one last kiss on the lips before returning to the room to get dressed.

—

Y/N was actually quite sad that he had left. She wishes he could've stayed longer, but she wasn't going to be that girl.

It was a one night stand, and nothing more.

She sighed and looked up at the polished building. Her cup of coffee had gone a bit cold, but she drank it nonetheless.

She checked her watch quickly, and decided it would be best just to go ahead in.

Y/N was very nervous. She worked hard and earned her position, but she was still a bit worried about how her arrival would be taken.

She was a nice girl, and she hoped that people would treat her the same.

She got a few looks as she walked in, but most everyone continued on with their business as if she was just another intern. That she was though.

"Y/N hey!" She stopped in her tracks as her close friend Liam flagged her down.

He stopped in front of her and began to give her the run down of the building.

"Here's everything you need, badge, ID card, and I wrote down the pin numbers to the break room doors. Oh and you have a quick meeting with the boss in about five minutes. He's running late, so you can just go wait in his office." Liam panted.

I was a bit overwhelmed with all the information he gave me, but I did my best not to show my nervousness.

"Okay. I'm going to head there now. Wish me luck okay?" She grinned at the man.

He gave her a quick hug, and then hurriedly made his way over to his office.

———

The bosses office was quite bare. She'd never seen or met this man. Y/N was hired by the head of the department she'd be working in. This man that she was meeting with was the head of the whole damn building.

Kind of intimidating, but it's nothing she can't handle.

After waiting for about fifteen minutes, the door opened and closed quickly.

"I apologize for my lateness, Miss Y/L/N. I was stuck in morning traffic." A familiar voice rang out.

She grimaced and turned around slowly to face the man.

Her boss.

"Harry?"

[hidden-otaku-stuff]

Universal (Hidden Corner series)

Hidden Corner: A series of fluffy, full-length one-shots detailing the lives of the employees who work at Hidden Corner featuring the various Haikyuu boys.

*Note: All one-shots take place in the same universe with the same characters.

Izanami is the Reader from Recommendations

Word count: 3.8k

Pairing: Time-skip!Osamu x female Baker!reader

Summary: One early morning on his way to work, Osamu walks past a café. The lights are on, and there’s no other sign of life anywhere else. Popping in, he discovers some of the best baked goods he’s ever tasted. But can you really fall in love with someone based on how their food tastes?

AN: Happy birthday Osamu! Yours was the second one-shot I finished of this series, but I held off to post this for your birthday 🥳

Masterlist | Menu

Universal

A wide yawn overtook Osamu as he made his way down the street. His hooded grey eyes scanned the horizon. Only a sliver of light had begun to cross the morning sky. He turned down the street, eyebrows furrowed at the sign of an open café. The warm golden light radiated warmth. Glancing at his watch, he nodded to himself. He had time. “Welcome to Hidden Corner!” A voice behind the counter chirped. “I’ll be with you shortly.” Osamu hummed, stepping further into the warmth. His eyes scanned the café. There weren't many people inside. In fact, there was only one other person. A male sat in the corner, his back to Osamu as he hunched over his laptop. “Hey, sorry to keep you waiting!” She entered, placing down a tray of baked goods before giving him a smile. “What can I get for you?”

Osamu sniffed the air, his eyes widening. “Whatever that is, I’d love one.”

She laughed, her eyes sparkling. “This? This is one of our specialty items, a German-influenced bee-sting cake. It goes great with a nice dark roast.” 

Osamu nodded his head eagerly, mouth salivating. “That sounds amazing. I’d love it.” 

“Will you be eating here or to-go?”

He glances at his watch again. “Here,” he decides. He didn’t need to be at the store for another twenty minutes. Osamu takes a seat at the bar, eagerly watching as she slices into the cake, the custard oozing out slightly as the barista lifts it onto a white plate. The barista places it in front of him beside a ceramic mug of dark coffee beside it. 

“Enjoy!” She chirps, before she goes over to check on the other customer. She brings over a mug of coffee as well as an apple square, placing it onto the table and giving the male a forehead kiss before returning to the counter.

Osamu eyed the pastry from the cinnamon almond top to the yellow custard sandwiched between the tan sponge. Carefully slicing it through with a fork, he savours the mouthful. Silver orbs widened, sparkling like a full moon on a cloudless night. “Excuse me?” He looks up at the barista. “But this is amazing.”

The barista grins, wiping down the counter. “Thank you!”    

“Did you make this?”

She shakes her head. “No, our baker actually just left for the day.” 

He hums, taking a sip of the coffee. His eyes roam the glass in front of the bar where there are trays of pastries. “Can I get a box of whatever you recommend?” 

The barista grins, “of course.” She turns her back to him, delicately filling the box. “There you go!” She passes the box over.

“What’s in here?” He pops open the box, eyeing the array of colourful pastries. The sugar-dusted, rose pastry caught his attention the most.

“In there you’ll have a few of our persimmon rose pastries, two guava pastelillos - or guava and cheese strudels, and miniature mango and dragon-fruit fruit tarts.” 

Osamu licks his lips. “That sounds incredible.”

“Enjoy!”  

****

“Back for more?” The barista teases, greeting Osamu as she wipes down the counter. He catches her name-tag this time. Izanami. Owner.  

He nods, breathing in the comforting scent of coffee beans. “Those pastries were so good.” Osamu scans the glass offerings one more, his eyebrows raising at the sight of the various mason jars and shot-glasses. “What are those for?”

Izanami glances over. “Oh!” She grins. “We’ve been trying to become more environmentally-friendly, which is why we started offering discounts whenever someone brings in their own mugs and stuff. But (Name) had a brilliant idea of using mason jars and these cute engraved shot-glasses for our cakes and stuff.” Izanami holds an empty one up, handing it to Osamu to examine. “They’re oven-safe provided that there aren’t any sudden temperature changes, and if they use it in-store, we can take it to the back to wash and use for the next time. Or, if they take it home and bring it back, we can either give them a discount.” She hums, examining another mason jar. “Plus they’re cute advertisements if they keep it anyways.”  

Osamu hums, “that’s a really good idea.” He shuffles his feet slightly, keeping his focus on the glass as pink dusts his cheek. “Is (Name) the baker?” 

By Izanami’s light-hearted chuckle, he hadn’t been as sly as he’d hoped. “Yes, she is.” 

Osamu clears his throat. “So! What options do you have for the shooters?” 

The owner leans against the counter, looking down at them. “We have a taster pack where you can get one each for a total of six different ones or do a custom pack of six. Of course, you could buy them individually as well.” She smirks slightly. “If you bring back twelve glasses, then we’ll throw in a free cake and coffee the next time you come in.” 

“Deal.” He grins. “I’ll take one of the taster packs for now.” He scans the drink menu. “And another dark roast, to-go please.”

“Make sure to bring your own thermos if you want a discount,” Izanami chuckles once more as she packages his treats. “Come again soon!” She sings, waving as he makes his way out the door.

*****

“Hey ‘Kaashi! Haven’t seen you in a minute,” Osamu greets from behind the counter, looking up as Akaashi enters Onigiri Miya.

“Hey Myaa-sam,” Akaashi grins. “I’ve been busy working and haven’t had a chance. Someone else usually comes to pick it up for me though.” 

Osamu nods before turning back to his ingredients. “Your usual then?”

“Surprise me.” 

Akaashi takes a seat at the bar, watching as Osamu moves around behind the glass. Gunmetal blue eyes sparkled mischievously. “That’s quite a few glasses you’ve collected.”

“Hmm?” Osamu glances at his friend, following his eyes to the assorted shot-glasses that sat next to the cash register. They were mostly hidden from customers except for where Akaashi was sitting. “Oh yeah. I really enjoy their pastries.”

Akaashi nods, leaning on his hand. “My girlfriend owns the cafe, I am there quite often.” 

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.” Osamu carefully shapes the onigiri for Akaashi who hums in response. Izanami pops into Osamu’s mind. “I make it a habit to go there in the mornings before I open up shop. Can’t imagine going anywhere else for breakfast if I’m being honest.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah! Their pastries are always perfectly made and are pretty unique. Haven’t seen them in any other cafes. And I love how environmentally-friendly they are, ya know?” Osamu’s eyes sparkled as he thought about the small cafe. 

Akaashi hides the small smirk behind his sleeve before clearing his throat. “You know they’re open 24 hours right?”

Osamu nods, wrapping the rice-ball. “Might stop by after I close up. I have to turn in the shot-glasses.” 

“Right, for the free cake and coffee?” Akaashi’s eyes glinted as he took his food, paying Osamu. “I’m sure you’ll have a nice time later, Myaa-sam.” 

“Thanks?”

“See you later, Myaa-sam!”  

****

“So, which of the shooters did you like the best?” Izanami asks as Osamu enters the cafe later that evening. Instead of being behind the counter this time, she’s sitting at the bar, going over some paperwork. 

“I think I’m a big fan of the raspberry chocolate one,” Osamu replied, mouth salivating as he reminisced. “The chocolate and raspberry was perfectly balanced and complemented each other.” He thought back to the other ones he tried. “Though the strawberry fool was really good too.” Osamu hummed, eyes shutting. “And the tiramisu,” he added. He tapped his chin for a second. “And the key lime.”

Izanami stifled a snort. “Hear that (Name)? He liked all of the shooters.”

Osamu’s head snapped up as you appeared from behind the counter, flour dusted on your cheek. “Well I’m glad to know that someone here appreciates my baking!”

“Hey, if I didn’t appreciate it, I wouldn’t let you have free-rein of the menu,” Izanami chided before looking back at Osamu. “This is (Name), our resident baker.” 

You waved at him from behind the counter before your (e/c) eyes widened, pointing at him. “You own Onigiri Miya!”

Osamu’s ears turned pink, realising exactly who the baker was. He swallows thickly. “That’s right.” 

Your eyes sparkle as you nod eagerly, facing your boss. “Iza! He owns the onigiri shop that ‘Kaashi and I go to!” 

“Oh really? That’s really nice,” Izanami smiles. “Speaking of, Yuuji should already be clocked in. I’m going to go check on him. Man the front for me, won’t you?” Osamu didn’t miss the wink that Izanami sent to (Name). He could feel the heat that crept through him now. 

“Whatever you need, boss-lady!” You chirped, waving Izanami off as she disappeared into the back. You turn back to Osamu, offering him a blinding smile. “What can I do for you, Miya-san?” 

Osamu shook his head, a pink dust settling on his cheeks, “you can just call me Osamu if you’d like.” 

If it was even possible, your smile got brighter. “Sure thing, Osamu! You can call me (Name).” You glance back down to the tray of pastries you had been spooning strawberry compote into. “Wanna taste-test something for me?”

Osamu’s eyes widened as he nodded fervently. “I’m always down to taste-test. What is it?”

You quickly pipe some yellow cream on top of the strawberry compote, sprinkled some demerara sugar on it and used a blowtorch to brulee the sugar. He watches with amazement at your fluid motions. Turning back to him, you place the completed pastry onto a clean white plate. “This is puits d’amour, or ‘wells of love’ in French. It’s mostly just strawberries, raspberries, and vanilla cream. Will you try it for me? I was thinking about adding it to the menu or maybe even just for a Valentine’s special.” 

Osamu picks it up gingerly, taking in the sweet smell of the pastry. As he bites down, his eyes shut. “This is so good,” he mumbled as he crammed the last piece into his mouth. You stifle a giggle, taking a napkin out and handing it to him.

“You got a little something there,” you tap on your chin before pouring a dark roast for him. 

He flushes brighter, taking the napkin and wiping away at the mess. He sips the dark roast, letting the dark flavor complement the abundance of sweet that bathed his tongue. “That was seriously good,” he grinned as he placed the empty cup down. “I would definitely buy that if it was offered on the menu.” 

Your eyes lit up. “Really?!” 

He nods eagerly. “Absolutely. Though that would definitely be cute for a special like Date Night or Valentine’s Day.” 

You hum, tapping your chin as you gaze back at the tray. “Maybe I’ll debut it for a holiday, get the couples coming in. And depending on how well they sell, maybe offer it more regularly.” You move to prepare a few more, packaging it up and turning back to him. “Here.”

Osamu raised an eyebrow, looking between the box and you. “What’s this for?”

“You seemed to really enjoy it. Maybe you could bring it to some of your friends or something and let me know what they think? Or finish it all! Whatever works.” You smile sheepishly. “Anything for a return customer, like Iza would say.” 

Osamu chuckles, raising the bag he had. “I was supposed to turn in these shot-glasses and redeem my free cake.”  

You sit on the stool behind the counter, spinning slightly. “You can always redeem it now if you’d like. I can prepare a custom-order for whatever cake or pastries you’d like.”

He hums, glancing at the display. Most of the pastries had sold out by now. “Surprise me,” he replies finally. “Come by the shop sometime soon. I need another taste-tester if you’re down.”  

Grinning, you nod eagerly. “Sounds like a great time.” 

****

“Hello, Myaa-sam,” Akaashi greets as the door to Onigiri Miya swings open. 

Osamu looks up, eyes narrowed as he jabs a finger at Akaashi, a grain of rice flying into the editor’s direction. “You knew, didn’t you?”

“Knew what?” Akaashi asks, blinking innocently at the restaurant owner. It would have worked if not for the small quirk of his lips. 

Osamu rolled his eyes, turning back to his rice as his ears glowed red. “Is she the one who’s been pickin’ up your orders for ya?”

Akaashi hummed, slipping into his usual stool before sipping on his thermos. “Perhaps.” 

Osamu scowled. “Are you tryin’ to set me up or somethin’?”

The other male only laughed. “Not at all.” Akaashi admits, his fingers twisting. “But (Name) is a sweet girl, isn’t she?” 

“Did you know her when she came in that one time?” 

“Um, excuse me?” 

Osamu jumped, whirling around to face you as his head crashed into the counter - hissing in pain. He cleared his throat, cheeks reddening. “Yes, hey, how can I help you?”

You stifle a chuckle. “I heard that this place has some of the best onigiri around. Think I can get some?”

“Of course, what’ll you have?”

“Three of your best!” You hum, scanning the menu. “Though include an unagi one, please. With furikake seasoning on the outside.” 

“Sounds good.” Osamu turned around, moving towards the counter only to trip over a bag of rice and stumble into the counter. His forehead smacked into the steel counter as his knees buckled. Osamu bit his lip to swallow back the groan, tears welling up in his eyes.

You snorted, biting your lip to hide your laughter. Unfortunately, the attempt was unsuccessful. “A-are you okay?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” He grinned, turning so that his back was to you as he squeezed his eyes shut tightly and clenched his fists. Both his head and foot hurt. A lot. Osamu let out a sigh, moving to make the onigiri for you. “Here you go. Hope you enjoy it.”

“I’m sure I will. I’ll definitely be back for more,” you grin, taking the box. “Bye!” You wave as you walk out of the door. Osamu sighed, rubbing his forehead with the heel of his palm. 

“That went well, Myaa-sam. Very coordinated.” 

Osamu glared at the editor who was perched at the counter. “Shut up ‘Kaashi.”

“Not at all,” Akaashi replied. “That was actually her first day at the cafe. I met her there later when I picked up ‘Nami.” 

Heat crept up Osamu’s neck. “Well thanks for the warning!” 

“Did you have a nice time though?”

Osamu pouted, turning his back to Akaashi as he molded the onigiri. “..Yes.” 

*****

“Iza says you come to the cafe every day?” Osamu jumps, looking up to find you perched at the counter in Akaashi’s usual seat. It had been a few days since you’d both officially met at the cafe. He flushes, before nodding. You beam up at him. “Great! What do you normally get and what have you liked the best so far?” In front of you was a journal, an abundance of sticky notes sticking out. 

Osamu tries to focus on the fillings in front of him, fighting off the heat that crept up through him. He had invited you to stop by, after all. “I usually just get whatever she recommends to me,” he says finally. 

You pout, pen tapping on the pages. “That’s not helpful!” 

He chuckles, nodding. He hated when Atsumu and his other friends gave him empty compliments in terms of his cooking. “Let’s see...I’ve tried the chocolate dipped sesame cookie. That was definitely an interesting one. I liked how that paired with the dark roast.”

Humming, you jot that down. “Maybe we should do a pairing menu,” you muse to yourself. “Like how fancy restaurants do with their wines.” 

“That’d be a good idea,” he comments, focusing on molding the onigiri. “I’m sure you get a lot of customers who don’t know what pairs well together in terms of coffee and cakes.”

Shrugging, you grin as you say, “Iza’s normally really good at convincing people to make the ‘correct’ choices.” You let out a soft giggle. Osamu nods, chuckling as he remembers the stories that Akaashi had told him about how he’d met his own girlfriend. You flit through your journal; Osamu can see photos of the pastries flashing by. “What else have you tried?”

He cleared his throat, thinking back. “I really enjoyed the beehive cake! That was the first thing I tried.” Osamu packages the onigiri he had been working on, calling the order number and handing it to his customer. “What type of onigiri do you want?”

You wave a hand, still looking at your book, “whatever you’ll have me try.”

 He grins, “your wish is my command, princess.”

Your head snaps up, heat creeping through your body. Clearing your throat, you avert your eyes. “So, pastries?”

Osamu nods, turning away to subtly hide his own blush. “The beehive cake was really good. I enjoyed how the almond and cinnamon complemented the custard, and how the dark roast Izanami gave me tasted along with it.” Humming, you jot down more notes. “You don’t do a lot of Japanese pastries, do you?”

You shrug, chewing on your pen-cap. “It’s not that I don’t do Japanese pastries, I just feel like European pastries can be difficult to find and they’re all so interesting not to try and make it.” You light up, picking up a box. “Speaking of which, I brought you something.”

Osamu glances over, placing down onigiri he had just finished for you. “What is it?” 

Opening up the box, you reveal powdered donuts. “These are beignets,” you explain. “You can eat these with fruit toppings,” you pulled out a mason jar of a raspberry-strawberry compote, “or chocolate. Or condensed milk. Or really any combination!” Two more mason jars were pulled out with the condensed milk and melted dark chocolate. He could still see the steam on the pastries. 

“You sure know how to spoil a guy,” he teases, putting the plate of the onigiri in front of you so you could taste. He slips into the seat to the left of you, silver eyes scanning the offerings. “What coffee goes best with this?”

 “Café au lait!” You perk up, pulling out a thermos. Osamu grabs two cups, letting you pour the coffee into the cups. 

Osamu plucks one of the beignets up, eating it plain. “So what type of pastries are these?” He asks, his cheeks bulging. You giggle, offering him a napkin to brush off the excess powdered that clung to his cheeks. 

“They’re French-influenced, but originate in New Orleans.” 

“New Orleans?” 

“It’s in the states.” 

“Ah.” He finishes it, sipping the coffee. Osamu takes out some plates, letting you decorate the other beignets for him to try. He watches as you gently spoon the compote over a beignet, drizzling a bit of the chocolate on top. “What inspired you to make these?”

“Princess and the Frog.”

He glanced at you with an incredulous look on his face. “The Disney movie?”

You nod, glancing up at him before going back to your beignets. “I love Disney movies, and I really like her character arc in that one.” This time, you were drizzling the melted chocolate and condensed milk over another beignet. You push them towards him, grinning as you wait for him to try it.

Osamu pushes the onigiri towards you. You both simultaneously take a bite out of your respective foods. Your eyes widen as you look up at Osamu. His heart skipped a beat at your excited expression. “I really like this filling! What is it?”

“It’s a tsukudani filling. I simmered some pork and seaweed into a mixture of mirin and soy sauce to make it.” 

Humming appreciatively, you quickly cram the rest of the onigiri into your mouth. “I definitely need to come here before each of my shifts,” you mumble. “This is so filling.” 

Osamu finishes the fruity beignet, trying a bit of the chocolate one. “Of the ones with extras, I think I like the fruit one the best,” he comments, sipping the coffee. “But both are super good.” 

“What makes it better?”

“I think it’s just the flavours. The dough is nice and fluffy, and takes the flavours well. The condensed milk is a little too sweet for me even with the dark chocolate, but the tartness of the raspberry balances out the sweetness of the strawberry and the coffee.” He smacks his lips thoughtfully. “Only change I could think of is maybe adding the dark chocolate so there’s a bit more of that bitterness to balance it out.”

“That makes sense,” you nod as you jot down his comments.

He turns towards you, leaning on his left hand. The plates of taste-testing were spread out in front of you, and the coffee cups sat in between both of you. His right hand rests on the table, drumming slightly. “What made you want to bake?”

“I just love sharing my food with people,” you admit softly. “I don’t really care to make sales. I just want to see people’s faces change when they try something I’ve created or change their moods, y’know?” You look at the box of beignets that you had brought over. “After all, food is a universal language.”

Osamu hummed, nodding. “I feel the same way.” He sips at the coffee you’d brought over. “I used to be a big volleyball guy. My twin is actually a pro right now.” 

“Atsumu right?” You ask, eyes raising to meet silver.

Osamu nods, nose wrinkled slightly, “yeah him. He wanted us to take the volleyball world by storm. Volleyball was fun and all, but that wasn’t where my passion was. I would’ve been eaten alive if I even tried,” Osamu snorted. “But food, that’s where I knew I could thrive. I love seeing people come in and trying my food, how their faces light up at the first bite. That makes me so happy, y’know?”

“Believe me, I know.” Tentatively, your hand reaches out to grasp his wrist. He looked down between your hands, releasing the coffee cup to slot his fingers between yours. 

You both sit in silence a moment longer, enjoying each other’s presence. Feeling less alone now that you’ve found someone that felt the same way you did. “I should go. My shift starts soon.” As you make a move to stand, Osamu squeezes your hand causing you to freeze in place.

Osamu glances up at you. “Come over to my place sometime.”

You turn, looking down at him with a bemused expression on your face. “Why’s that?”

“I’ll make you dinner,” he proposes, grinning. 

You tap on your chin, contemplatively. “Only if you let me make dessert.”

“Deal.”

*****

AN: Happy birthday Osamu! idk why but I find it so much easier to write for Osamu than for Atsumu 🤷‍♀️ and yes, that was Akaashi in the beginning scene! 

Izanami is the Reader from Recommendations 

All one-shots in the Hidden Corner series exist in the same universe where characters may interact with the ‘Reader’ from the other one-shots. I will be giving each ‘Reader’ a place-holder name when they are referenced in the other one-shots to ease confusion!

This will be a side-project, so new updates will generally not be scheduled!

general taglist: @scrappydaisies​​​​​​​ @newfriendjen​​​​​​​  @kyomihann @cheerysparkle​​​​​ @seiijixcia​��​​ @shoyomeow​​​ @atsunakaashi​​​

Please contact me if you would like to be a part of my general taglist! 💞 Check out this link for information about my taglists.

[hecticcheer]

Hyponatremia (unfinished T/M/A fic)

Fiveish months ago I tried to write a fic based on this scenario post I made. I’m super definitely never gonna finish it, and, it just kinda trails off at the end? Also it’s very rough. Features some American measurements in brackets that I’m too lazy to convert, if that gives you an idea. But I figured I’d post it anyway on one-slice-of-cake>no-cake principle.

As for the plot... uh. Jon has a headache; Martin tries to help, but makes it worse. For *checks notes* ~4200 words. If it has one saving grace, it’s that you can mmmmostly understand it without prior knowledge of T/M/A? Long as you know Martin’s living in the Archives to hide from an evil worm monster, you should be good.

--

As usual, Jon was the first person to join Martin down in the Archives that morning, sometime between seven and eight. And, no more unusually, Martin had twelve-plus hours of nervous energy to work off, and nobody to shed it on but his boss. “Morning. Sleep well? Tim said you still had some work to do when we left for the pub, but I didn’t see you when I got back so you can’t have made too late a night of it.” (Jon shook his head.) “Shame you couldn’t join us, by the way. Elena and Clarisse and them destroyed us on geography, and Sasha says you’re pretty good on maps and that. Maybe you could’ve saved us.”

“Doubt it,” said Jon. Martin waited for him to add more to that thought, but instead he just sort of stood there. Pinched one nostril shut and inhaled experimentally through the other. Trying to figure out which one was clogged, maybe? Tim said Jon’d said he had a headache; maybe it was a sinus thing. Not that this was exactly reliable intel. On pub-quiz Wednesday Tim always regaled him and Sasha with Jon’s latest excuses not to join them. They were always bad, but some were so bad Martin suspected they weren’t so much Jon’s lies as Tim’s lies about Jon’s lies. Probably not a great idea to mention this one, then. He’d stick to the first excuse Jon had allegedly given:

“Did you finish what you were working on?”

Jon closed his eyes, for a bit longer than the average blink, but not long enough to count as a proper wince. “Not even close.”

“Oh. What… was it?”

“Cabinet of statements from 2003. Or at least, nominally from 2003, though by my count less than a third of them actually date from that year.”

“Yikes. Need any help? Extra pair of hands, or.”

“Not right now.”

“2003,” Martin mused—“are you still looking for Mr. McKenzie’s statement?”

A short, but hearty sigh. Enunciated, practically. He didn’t open his mouth until afterward, but Martin could see his nostrils flare around it. “No. Three days ago, when I started to look through the cabinets marked 2003, I was looking for Mr. McKenzie’s statement. Now I just want to find out which statements in there I can’t send straight to the discredited section.”

Jon stood in the open doorway to his office by this point, hand on the knob as if to remind Martin of his eagerness to close it behind him. Even so Martin tried to peer past him into the office, looking for a discard pile of statements he might offer to shuttle away himself. This was pretty hard to do surreptitiously, though. He’d hoped his eyes would land at once on the tallest pile, at which time he could point to it and say, Are those the discredited ones, then? But from his vantage point all the piles on Jon’s desk seemed taller than usual.

“Right,” Martin said instead; “good luck.” He smiled weakly and returned his gaze to Jon, meaning to restore eye contact before he remembered how seldom Jon looked at people’s faces anyway. At this moment both his eyes were covered by the hand not on the doorknob. It would’ve been weird, he figured, to just duck out now while Jon couldn’t even see him, so Martin told himself to wait until he opened his eyes and only then back off.

But then Jon just stayed like that, for ages, with his fingers on one temple and his thumb on the other, blocking all possibility of sight. Eventually Martin felt like he had no choice but to say, “Are you alright?—or, I mean, how’s your head, by the way? Tim said….”

“It’s fine.”

“Ssssso it—doesn’t still hurt, then?”

“I’m fine, Martin. Thank you,” Jon said, but in one of the least thankful-sounding tones of voice he had. And then he closed the door, without even waiting for Martin to back up.

—

“Thought you might like coffee this morning instead of tea. It’s got more caffeine, and, that’s supposed to help, right? Plus I remembered what you said on your birthday about tea having tannins just like wine does. Of course, for all I know coffee might too—”

“It does.”

“Oh. Well… maybe the caffeine’ll cancel it out and you’ll break even? Or, I don’t know, maybe if you already have a headache they can’t trigger one.”

Jon’s answering Hm sounded pessimistic. Sure enough, as soon as Martin had finished his sentence he said, “I’m not that lucky.”

“Probably not,” Martin agreed with a laugh. “Still, least it’s hydration. Though caffeine’s a diuretic, so if I recall correctly you only get about half, volume-wise. That mug’s about… [twelve ounces,] I’d say? So it probably counts as about [six toward your sixty-four].”

“Yes, yes,” replied Jon, picking up his bottle of water and shaking it. When he set it down again, one look confirmed what Martin had suspected from the sound it made—it was nearly empty.

“Oh hey, look at that! Looks like you’re doing a pretty good job even without…” he trailed off, realizing too late that the most logical end to that sentence was my help, and that that was a pretty pompous way to refer to a coffee he was pretty sure Jon didn’t even want. So instead he said, “I’ll go refill that for you.” And before Jon could look up Martin scurried off to the break room with it.

The water dispenser should’ve been changed yesterday. When the water got this low it took ages to fill even a mug, much less a tall bottle like this one. It startled as a trickle, and by about halfway up the bottle slowed to a glorified drip. In his mind he pleaded with the water spout not to make so much noise; promised it he’d put in a new one as soon as he’d returned Jon’s water to him, mouthed encouragements to it. Not much farther, just to the top of the M, come on, you can do it. (The bottle was an Institute freebie, with Magnus Institute inscribed on it in black-bordered green letters. Martin had one just like it somewhere in his flat. Worm bait now, he supposed.)

By the time he brought it back Jon’s eyes were on the statement in his hands. Skimming, by the looks of it, rather than either actually reading or pretending to.

Martin endeavored to set down his refilled water audibly, but not painfully loudly. But Jon’s answering “Thank you” took him so much by surprise that at the last moment his wrist jerked and the bottle fell over.

“Ah! Sorry, sorry.” It had a lid, so, not an actual disaster? Jon did snarl at him though, or at least at the noise. His hands flew up as if to cover his ears, but he seemed to reject that idea halfway through. Just closed his fists around thin air, then leant his temple on one of them and sighed through his nose. “Sorry,” Martin said again. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Jon’s emphatic blink seemed to stand in for a nod.

“Anyway, here’s a further [sixteen ounces] for you, looks like, or thereabouts,” ventured Martin, patting the side of the water bottle with one hand while holding it down with the other so it definitely wouldn’t topple again. “I’ll just leave you to it then.”

“Mm.”

“Good luck.”

—

After his stunt with the water bottle Martin had too much distrusted himself to risk making another big noise with the door, so he’d left it with its tongue sticking out rather than latching it. This meant he made almost no sound when he entered again. The first thing he noticed was that the water in Jon’s bottle still reached the top of the M. It still sat in the same place, too—not out of Jon’s reach but far enough away (Martin had told himself at the time) not to seem an imposition on his space. Almost definitely not where one would set it if one intended to pick it up again soon. His coffee seemed to have fared a bit better though. Half empty, one might say. Optimistically.

The second thing he noticed was Jon himself, who sat with his elbows on the desk, his chin on the heels of his palms, and his fingers arranged around his eyes like fence posts. Like a child peeking out at something they’re too scared to look at directly—except that his eyes were closed.

Martin snuck back to the other side of the door and knocked on it, gently. “Hey, uh, Jon?”

He didn’t look up, and opened his eyes for only a second before shutting them again. But he did drop his hands, threaded his fingers together and set them on the table, and bit his lip. “What, Martin.”

“Er—well, I know you said you’d given up looking for Marcus McKenzie’s statement, but I just realized I never asked if you’d thought to look in the discredited section. I mean, from what he said on the phone it didn’t sound like he took his dad’s statement all that seriously, so, maybe Gertrude put it in there, as, like, corroborating evidence that it wasn’t paranormal, and McKenzie senior’s statement just got misfiled?”

“Martin, I invented the discredited section.”

“Oh.”

“Anything else you wanted to say?”

“Oh, uh, nothing important. Just wondered if you’d like me to take that mug away.”

Instead of responding verbally, Jon picked up the mug and made what seemed a valiant effort to drink a little more of the coffee inside it. From what Martin could tell, he barely managed not to grimace in disgust.

“Do you like coffee? I’m not a big fan of it either, to be honest. Oh, well. If you can’t force that down you’ve still got plenty of water there, I see. Besides, it’ll wash out the taste.” (With an actual heh heh, which came out more like a small dog panting than like human laughter.)

Dramatic, snarly sigh from Jon. “Think I’ll pass. It seems to make it worse, if anything.”

“Oh. Sorry about that; must be those pesky tannins. I’ll just take your cup now then.”

But Jon only tightened his grip on it. “Water, I meant. The coffee’s fine. Not exactly my favorite beverage in the world, but, you were right. It’s a good idea.”

“Oh. Thanks, I’m glad you.” Martin smiled, then frowned. “Wait, water makes it worse?”

“Seems to.”

“Really? Are you sure it wasn’t just—too cold, or something.”

His laugh sounded bitter, hollow—theatrically so, in fact. A perfect Ha ha ha, except he didn’t say those words, didn’t enunciate them like Sasha sometimes did when Tim made a bad joke. He just made the exact sounds they were invented to transcribe. “No, Martin. I haven’t just been giving myself a brain freeze every time I.”

“…Right, of course not. Sorry, I didn’t mean to.” For a few silent seconds Martin picked at a notch in his thumbnail, carved there earlier this morning by a stubborn paperclip. Part of him wanted to tear the nail off and have done, but he knew it would bleed if he did. Nothing to clip it with in the Archives, obviously. “Are you sure you won’t try again? This water’s quite tepid, actually, since I got it literally from the bottom of the barrel—”

“Martin—”

“Sorry, sorry. Just thought it was worth—”

“Don’t you have something better to do.”

“Er… no, actually. Pretty much finished with everything, at the momen…t. Though if you’d like to give me another assignment I’d be happy to—yeah. Do that, for you. Or I mean, for the sake of the Archives; I don’t mean it’d just be, like, busy work. Not accusing you of that or anything.”

“Are you comfortable leaving the Archives?”

For half a second Martin heard this as a hint—an offer? a threat?—that Jon meant to have him transferred to another department. Then he wondered if Jon was hinting it was time Martin found somewhere else to live. “What, like, permanently?”

“No—just as long as it takes to track down and interview Georgie Barker about her role in the statement Ms. King gave us.”

“Oh. Yeah, I think so, uh. Thank you for asking? I mean, Prentiss said she was done with me, right. At least, me personally. And she already knows I’m here, so it’s not like.”

Jon replied shortly, “Yes.”

“I’d like to listen to Ms. King’s statement first, though, if that’s alright. What’d you say it was about? The Cambridge Military Hospital?”

Another short, emphatic, nose-directed sigh. Couldn’t be too stuffed-up then, Martin guessed. “Technically, yes, though Ms. King insists the building itself had nothing to do with it.”

“Huh. What was it about, then?”

“She alleges that a woman she hired to help film one of her ghost stories peeled the skin off her arm.”

“Oh my god! I mean, did you—was she okay? Did she show you her arm? Did it seem to have—you know—skin?”

“Her own arm, not Ms. King’s.”

“Oh.” Martin sighed for himself now, though with relief rather than exasperation. Managed a tiny laugh, as well. “Okay, well, that’s. Creepy as hell, but, not nearly as bad as.”

“Mm. Nor nearly as verifiable as your version.”

“T…rue, no, I guess not. Anyway do you have the tape? I’d like to listen myself, if that’s.”

Jon pointed to a small stack of tapes on the bookshelf to Martin’s right. Sure enough, the top one had M. King, 0161704 sharpied across the label on its side. “Ah! Found it. Thanks.” He had a tape player squirreled away already; on another day he might’ve pretended otherwise, but for the moment he was too relieved not to have to make a pest of himself by asking to borrow one to worry whether the absence of that request might make Jon suspicious.

Besides, Jon seemed pretty… absorbed in himself, this morning. By the time Martin turned to face him again one of Jon’s hands had crept back up to his face, where its fingers now seemed to comb the hairs of his left eyebrow. He didn’t think he’d ever seen Jon do that before, plus doubted the hairs in question needed his help to lie flat. Jon’s eyebrows had always struck him as quite neat. Plus Martin had tried that with his own eyebrows plenty of times before the mirror in his youth, and knew it didn’t work very well even if you licked your finger—which Martin assumed Jon hadn’t. So he figured he should file this behavior in the same box as the earlier fist-clenching-to-avoid-covering-ears thing. As, like, headache-soothing for people who don’t want to look weak. Or unprofessional, or something to that effect.

This gave him a sense of foreboding when he thought too hard about it. But Martin needed so badly to keep this job, now that his flat wasn’t safe anymore. It seemed wiser not to look directly at abstract threats like that. If he could make Jon feel better then it wouldn’t matter, right? Or at least could be put off til next time.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Don’t recall saying I was,” Jon muttered.

Martin winced. He had said he was alright—Martin was certain. When he’d first come in that morning, he’d said he was fine when Martin asked, and then he’d closed the door. Didn’t seem worth correcting him over it, though. So Martin just said, “Try to drink something while I’m gone, yeah? Kool-Aid, for all I care, just. You really don’t look like you’re feeling all that well. And any kind of drink other than alcohol should—oh.”

He looked up, hearing Jon swallow what sounded like a lot more than the tiny sip of coffee he’d managed before.

“Well. Great. Thank you for obliging me.”

Jon continued to gulp down water, while staring right at Martin. He paused in swallowing to breathe, but even then did not remove the mouth of the bottle from his own mouth. When he tried to resume drinking it made him cough instead, and even then he didn’t set it down.

“O-okay, well, I’m sure that’s plenty, don’t—?” Hurt yourself, Martin wanted to say, but feared that would sound patronizing. The bottle was more than half empty now. Jon paused for air again. “For god’s sake, Jon, stop—that looks like it hurts—you don’t have to—?”

At last he slammed the empty bottle on his desk—more loudly than could possibly be comfortable for a man with a headache. Leant his elbow on the table, and between pants huffed a laugh and said, “Care to refill it for me?”

On a sort of autopilot Martin chirped, “Uh—sure! No problem I’ll just,” and rushed off with it to the break room. This refill took much less time, since he’d remembered to change out the thingy. But it still took long enough that by the time he got back he worried, “You’re not going to chug this one too, are you?”

“No,” said Jon, eyes and hands both busy now with a statement hitherto hidden by his elbow. He did not reach out a hand to take the bottle from Martin.

“Okay, I’ll just. Leave this here then. See you after the, uh. Yeah.”

—

And lo, it was as he had feared. Chugging [sixteen ounces] of water did indeed make his headache worse. By ten it seemed to count turning the page of a statement as an exertion worth pounding over. True, by lunch time it seemed to have backed off a bit—until he sat back down at his desk with his fork and plate. On his way to the microwave he’d thought he must be on the mend: his head throbbed a little harder than when he’d been seated, but not so much he’d have noticed the difference had he not set out to pay attention to it. Some food, maybe an ibuprofen or two and he’d be fixed, he’d told himself.

Once he got to the break room, though, he noticed something else odd. His limbs were weak. His knees seemed made of jelly, and wobbled beneath him every time he shifted his weight; his arms were steady enough, but when he set down the pizza box on the counter after retrieving it from the fridge he felt a surge of relief, which he hardly understood until he’d transferred a slice from the no-onion half onto a plate and picked up the latter to put it in the microwave. Even these tiny movements made his arms, neck and chest ache like they do when you hold your breath too long. He leant his elbows against the counter and gulped down air until his mouth felt so dry he couldn’t bear to keep it open. Wondered if he should sit down; he felt a bit dizzy. But he had less than 30 seconds left to wait for the microwave, which he figured couldn’t hurt him.

It didn’t, but the walk back to his office did a bit. Moving his legs’ sluggish muscles made his whole body ache—again like it does when you run too long and have to stop for breath. He figured it must be in a similar spirit that his head waited til he’d sat down to unleash its onslaught. Before leaving his desk he’d grown used to thinking of his heart beat’s faint buzzy shocks like the second hand on a clock, criticizing him under its breath from where it watched behind his eyes. This was… a great deal worse than that. He tried to time the beats against the ticking of his wrist watch, but couldn’t seem to focus on that and breathe at the same time. They were fast, though, at least at first. His heart rate did seem to calm down fairly quickly, but he could swear it never got all the way back down to its earlier rate—at least not before his attention shifted from the speed to just. How much it hurt.

Was that what made his slice of pizza so tasteless? When he cut his first bite, on its way to his mouth he thought he caught a whiff of the red onions with which its tip must have shared space, and only his horror of Tim asking What was wrong with that part, then? when he brought the otherwise-empty plate back to the sink stopped him from scraping that bite off his fork and trying again higher up the slice. But when he finally forced himself to eat it? Nothing. No onion taste, thank god, but everything else too seemed… muted. Hardly worth how the exertion of chewing made his head hammer after each swallow. Jon knew the taste of food was hardly the point of eating it, but? In the absence of everything he normally liked about cheese and meat and bread and vegetables, the fact the cheese squelched in his mouth made him wish he’d never left his bed. The way leaves of soggy spinach flapped over the sides of even his neatly-cut rectangles. His stomach tightened in revulsion, so that in his throat he could feel each swallowed lump shifting from foot to foot, waiting to be let in. Not to mention how the effort of cutting it shook the whole damn table.

He told himself he could skip the crust. If Tim asked about it, Jon’d just tell him it’d gone stale. Just get through the… other part, the crumb, the filling. Between throbs the ache in his tired jaw merged with the one behind his eyes. Why didn’t it always hurt to chew? Did the pleasure of tasting food give you enough endorphins to cancel it out? Would everyone have this problem all the time if we had to live on, say, dry toast?

Right, okay, close enough. Ibuprofen now. No, you idiot—other drawer. In the fantasy versions he’d rehearsed of this moment he clapped four of them from his palm into his mouth at once, and swallowed them dry. But his blister pack turned out to have only three left. Which was fine! Just fine. Better, probably, after so little lunch.

Also, dry-swallowing was kind of a misnomer? He’d never really thought about it before, but. Turned out it would only work if your so-called “dry” mouth had spit in it. As it was the pills stuck to his tongue, leaving streaks of spicy burnt-orange when he tried to claw them back toward his throat with his teeth. When they got far back enough on his tongue he had to concentrate not to gag, and they still stuck—even when he turned his nose to face the ceiling and thumped on his chin with his hand (which, ouch)—at that point he gave up and unscrewed his water. Allowed as little of it in his mouth as would let him swallow these damn things, and wash their stains off his tongue. And it still made his head throb harder.

Jon imagined shooting whoever next told him to stay hydrated. He derived little joy from the fantasy, though; couldn’t not think of the loud, sharp noise it would make.

Returning the plate could wait, he decided; not like it would attract worms in the thirty minutes it’d take for the pills to kick in. Meanwhile he’d just… keep sorting. He took a statement off the top of the pile in front of him and blinked at it over and over, until his vision resolved into a shape he told himself hurt marginally less than the others. 9720406, Nathaniel Thorp. Christ, 1972? “Misfiled” was practically an understatement for that one. And here he’d thought Gertrude had kept that part of the century in relative good order. Still, he stuck it on the all other years pile and reached for another. 0130111, David Laylow. Nope—still not 2003. 0002610, Jennifer Wong. 0910203, Lisa Jones. 0081711, Donald Gately. 0100912, Lawrence Mortimer. 0152101, Uzma Rashid. Ha!—0030707, Seymour… Backsides. Wait a minute. Hadn’t he seen a prank statement with that name before lunch? He grabbed a stack off the 2003 pile and found… Rashid, Mortimer, Gately. Had he switched the—? Look in the unsorted pile again, he told himself. Under where he’d found Mr. Backsides’ tale he uncovered statements 0031212, 0032504, 0031809, and so on. Great. After Seymour he must’ve got mixed up. There was no more unsorted pile—not on his desk, anyway. He’d have to pull some more out of the… open filing cabinet which stood across the room with its tongue stuck out at him. Yeah, well, that could wait too. For now he’d just. Check his email.

[btsmosphere]

Sweet Surprises | KTH

~summary: The story of how Taehyung’s fridge filled up with fruitcake. Taehyung x reader ~word count: 2.8k ~neighbour au, strangers to lovers, fluff Rating: pg ~warnings: I don’t think there are any :) ~a/n: Happy birthday Taehyung!! Here is my offering for the bingo square ‘fruitcake’! Wasn’t sure I was even going to write for this square since I don’t personally like fruitcake, but that itself inspired this one hehe.. I have so enjoyed all my xmas projects (and I managed to do 8 bingo squares!) but I am also excited to start posting different things in the new year! I have some new series in the making so stay tuned...

In the quiet corridor, your tentative knock rang out clearly.

Shifting between your feet, you stared at the unbudging door, on the verge of dashing straight back home.

But before you could give the idea any more thought, the click of the handle turning from the other side made you freeze. Glancing down, you reassured yourself with the sight of the plate in your hands.

And then you were face to face with your most gorgeous neighbour, a fruitcake the only barrier between you two.

“Hello!” the guy greeted, surprising you with a smile. You would have expected him to be at least a little annoyed at being interrupted by a neighbour at the door. Relaxing a little, you offered a smile too.

“Hi, I’m Y/N. I, er, made some fruitcake, but I have way too much so I, er, thought you might like some?”

The man’s eyes dropped to the plate you extended to him after getting through your little speech. Meeting your eyes again, his smile returned.

“Wow, thanks!”

He plucked it from your hands, leaving them with nothing to do.

Awkwardly fiddling with the hem of your shirt, you nodded.

“Okay, well, er, I hope you enjoy, and I should probably-“

“Wait, Y/N!”

As bidden, you stopped, waiting for his next words.

“Tell me,” he grinned, taking a step out of his apartment, “how come you have too much fruitcake? Of all things?”

“Oh,” you chuckled lightly, “well, every year my mum picks a load of fruit from a local farm, and she makes fruitcake for all the family at Christmas, and she sent me some of the fruit this year now I’m living alone, but she hasn’t really got the memo that I don’t have a family to feed, so now I have all this fruit and- sorry, I’m rambling,” you cut yourself off, one hand tangling in your hair.

Nonetheless, your neighbour’s smile had stayed in place.

“No, no,” he assured you, “don’t worry. You should come by again if you have more to get rid of!”

“Oh,” you said, taken by surprise, “okay, great!”

“Thanks,” he smiled, “oh, and I’m Taehyung, by the way.”

“Good to meet you, Taehyung.”

When you closed the door behind you, safely back home, you let out a heavy breath, smile taking its place on your face.

You definitely had more to get rid of. After your brief interaction with Taehyung, you had to restrain yourself from making another batch of cake right away. The man needed some time to eat it!

About a week later, you had deemed it time.

So here you stood, two cooked and two uncooked fruitcakes spread in front of you, one more in the oven, all before noon had even come. Unfortunately, you knew you would have to give some to your other neighbours too: Taehyung couldn’t possibly eat five fruitcakes even if they were his favourite food on earth. Well, perhaps he could, but it would take him a while, and you would like to have the excuse to go back and deliver another in another week’s time.

Undoubtedly, it was silly, but you couldn’t help but be drawn to your handsome neighbour. Prior to last week, you had only ever seen him in passing on the staircase, but now you were dying to talk to him again, if only for a minute.

This time around, your rap at the door was a little more confident.

“Hi again!” you smiled when his head poked around the door.

“Y/N! Hi,” he beamed, letting his door fall open and leaning against the door frame, revealing he was still dressed in his pyjamas, though he still seemed perfectly at ease, “you brought more!”

“Presuming you’re still hungry,” you chuckled.

“Ah, always,” he affirmed, leaning forward to take your latest offering, “the last one… it was really great. Can’t wait for this one!”

“I’m glad,” you said, “you’ll have to let me know when you get sick of them.”

“If,” he corrected, laughing, “and why’s that? Still got your fruit problem?”

Grimacing, you nodded.

“There is just so. much!” you let out an exasperated laugh, “I’m not even sure if I can use it up by Christmas.”

“Well, I’m always here for that,” Taehyung sent you a winning grin. “So, this is a Christmas tradition for your family?”

Nodding, you explained, “definitely, and the recipe I use has been passed down from my great grandmother. And there’s always one on the table on Christmas day. My mum taught me to bake it ever since I was four.”

“Wow,” Taehyung raised his eyebrows, “that’s impressive. No wonder they taste so good!”

“Thank you,” you smiled, looking down at your feet.

“Listen, I should go and get ready, but I’ll pop round and bring back your plates at some point, yeah?”

“Sounds great, thanks,” you smiled before bidding him farewell and returning to your other fruitcakes.

Another week, another fruitcake plated up and waiting on your counter as you dashed around the apartment like a mad woman. You had completely forgotten your promise to meet with some old friends in town, having remembered mid-shower, and now you were doing your hair, brushing your teeth and picking an outfit that might make you look like a functioning person, all at once.

So a knock on the door was not what you needed.

With every intention of not answering, you poked your head around the curtain just to see who it was.

And just like that, you were dashing down the stairs to let in Kim Taehyung.

“Hi!” you greeted breathlessly.

“Oh, hi,” he smiled, “am I… interrupting?”

“Don’t worry, it’s fine!” you stepped back, one hand holding onto the hair you were plaiting, “I was going to come round later anyway.”

“Nice,” he held up the two plates you had given him, now spotlessly clean, “I was just bringing these back.”

Though you made to take them from him, you soon thought better of it.

“Sorry, if you could just-“

“Through there-?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks,” you laughed nervously, following him through to your kitchen. Of course, it wasn’t as clean as you would have liked him to see, but he didn’t take any notice.

“Since you’re here, you could just take it now,” you nodded towards the latest fruitcake as he set down the plates.

“Ah, yes, great, thank you,” he shot you a smile, “I look forward to it.”

“No problem!” you grinned, finally finishing up your plait and freed your hand.

“I should probably get going,” he said, then grimaced. “Christmas shopping awaits.”

“Good luck to you then,” you laughed, “I’m just about to head into town too.”

“Oh! Walk with me?” he asked, “I’ll just go and put this inside…”

“See you in a moment!” you called as he headed back out the door with your cake.

Walking into town was a lot nicer with Taehyung at your side, you noticed. You two chatted more about your Christmas traditions and families, and how much of a nightmare they were to buy presents for. It seemed your mothers were very similar, always asking for things only to never use them, or worse, send them back.

“Why ask for it then?” you threw your hands out in exasperation, both of you laughing little clouds into the air.

Not long later, Taehyung pointed out that you had reached the café you were heading to. You were definitely late for your friends, but that didn’t matter at all when he gave you a quick parting hug.

Waving at him, you wished him luck with the shopping, ignoring the way your heart fluttered more after that one hug than it had during the entire walk here.

Inside, you were pleasantly surprised as your friends didn’t care at all about you being late, instead inundating you with questions about who you were with. You did your best to wave them off with just a friend, just my neighbour, but you couldn’t help the pang in your heart.

If only you could call him more than that…

Fortunately, he really seemed to like your baking.

“I’ve never known anyone who eats so much fruitcake,” you laughed one day, the second time he had turned up that week.

“Oh, you know me,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “can’t have too much fruitcake…”

“Coffee?” you asked.

“Go on then,” he smiled, following you inside, “but it’s definitely my turn next time.”

Rolling your eyes, you placed his fruitcake on the table and started on the coffee. It had been a week after your walk into town that you had turned up with the next cake and he had invited you in for tea. Incredibly excited about this development, you returned the favour the next time he came around.

Now it was approaching Christmas and he was eating your cakes quicker than ever.

Just two days before the big day, or Christmas eve eve as you liked to call it, a knock at the door.

Smiling to yourself, you abandoned the suitcase you were packing and rushed to open it.

“Happy Christmas eve eve!” you greeted Taehyung.

Instead of returning the enthusiastic greeting, he looked stumped.

“Happy what?”

“Christmas eve eve,” you repeated.

He burst out laughing.

“Um, sure, I guess.”

“I promise it’s a thing!” you insisted, “well, with me anyway… sorry, would you like a drink?”

“Actually, I was coming to invite you for a drink at mine,” he said, “I told you it was my turn next, right?”

Considering you could use a break (and not at all because you would never turn down an offer to spend time with Tae), you hurriedly agreed. Slipping on your shoes only to take them back off a few seconds later across the threshold of Tae’s house, you followed him through.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got it!” he smiled brightly, “you can wait in here.”

As he disappeared into the kitchen, you made yourself at home in his sitting room, noting, as you did every time you had been here, his immaculate taste in decor. Soft sounds of mugs and teaspoons clinking came from the kitchen, and soon you found yourself with a hot drink between your hands.

“Oh no!” you exclaimed as he set down a slice of cake too, “can we share it? You didn’t bring one for yourself.”

“Uh, sure,” he sat heavily, “thanks.”

Taking your first forkful, you sat back.

“I never said it before, but your house is really nice.”

“Thanks, I’m glad you think so,” he blushed, hiding his face with a sip of his drink.

“Especially the artwork… will you tell me about that one?”

“Oh, that’s actually one of mine.”

“What?” you gaped, “No way! That’s incredible!”

To your dismay, a phone call soon interrupted your… thing. Whatever it was you were having. Tea, you supposed. Certainly not a date.

Quickly apologising, Tae peeked at the screen before excusing himself.

“My mother,” he said, “probably panicking about Christmas plans. I’ll be right back.”

With a laugh, you nodded to show you understood. The moment he left, you let out a sigh. Your mothers should meet each other, it sounded like they would really get along. But perhaps meeting family was going a bit far.

You had to control yourself. Nothing had ever happened, nor would ever happen with Tae. This whole perfect boy-next-door thing was reserved for movies. Not for someone like you.

A few minutes of you twirling your fork around a now empty plate, and Tae was still talking in the hallway. Deciding to make yourself useful, you heaved yourself up from his sofa with your empty dishes in hand.

Leaving what must be the softest, squishiest sofa in the land was a tragedy you didn’t enjoy, but you were only going to pop into the kitchen and ditch the plate.

Right?

But when you did step into the kitchen, you stopped in the doorway.

“What the…” you breathed, venturing one more step in.

Spread across half the counter were your fruitcakes. All of them were still wrapped up, except one that you presumed he had just served to you. Still staring at the stack, you set your things down as softly as possible.

Spinning, slowly, silently, on your heels, you cast your eyes over the rest of the kitchen. Though the counter had a tower of cake on it, you were sure it wasn’t every one you had given to Tae. Then a crack of light caught your attention.

The fridge was open, just a crack, but you walked towards it, eyebrows creasing together. Reaching your hand forwards, you pulled.

A loud thud sounded as a fruitcake launched from the fridge, landing with a slight splat at your feet. And what’s more, the fridge itself was equally stuffed with your fruitcakes.

An instant hush fell outside. Tae had heard.

Spinning around, eyes wide like a child caught breaking into the cookie jar, you were just in time to see Taehyung come to the doorway. When his eyes met yours, you found much the same expression there as you wore yourself.

“I’ll call you back,” he mumbled into the phone, lowering it slowly without taking his eyes off you.

“…sorry,” was the first word to fall from your mouth, “I was just putting back the mug and-“

“Let me explain?” he cut in, “I- I do want them, I swear, and thank you- “

“You clearly don’t want them,” you spoke, confusion lacing your voice, “What are you going to do with all these?”

Following your gesture, he cringed as he took in all the fruitcakes he had amassed.

“I was hoping my friends might like some,” he muttered sheepishly, now looking resolutely at his shoes, “and- and my mum really wants to try some…”

“You don’t like fruitcake?” you whispered.

Finally, Tae looked up.

“No…”

“But- why did you keep asking for more?”

“I… I…”

Watching him closely, you waited. He was so endearing, all flustered like this, but you were honestly perplexed.

“How else was I meant to keep seeing you without seeming weird?”

Your eyebrows raised.

“No offense… but this also seems pretty weird.”

“Yeah, point taken,” he sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck, “but it was a good excuse. And look how much fruit you used up!”

In the face of his hopeful grin, you could only laugh.

“You… you wanted to see me?”

“Yes! I did try the first cake, I promise, I tried so hard to like it, but I just-“

“Taehyung!”

Snapping his mouth shut, he looked up at you with big eyes.

“You could have just said so! Do you not know why I kept coming here with those cakes?”

The expression that met you was blank, only a blink coming in answer.

“Taehyung, I wanted to see you too. I like you.”

For a moment, you were afraid he wouldn’t respond. That perhaps you had got the wrong idea, that this silence was his way of rejection. But then he sighed, a laugh hidden within it, and finally spoke.

“Well that makes things simple,” a small smile spread onto his face, “because I like you too. And I would eat every fruitcake in this room if you let me take you out on a date.”

“That won’t be necessary,” you returned the smile, “I would love to go out with you.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

The boxy smile that lit up his face found its way quickly to your own as well when he stepped towards you. Reaching out his hand, he gently took your own and tugged you closer. Before you knew it, his lips were on yours, his other hand at your jaw, barely grazing the skin as if he would wake up and find it all to be a dream if he held you too tightly.

Eyes closed in bliss, you covered the hand with your own, assuring you both. Yes, this was real.

Pulling back, all either of you could do was stare into each other’s eyes as they creased with the smiles you wore.

“I guess all those fruitcakes were a good thing after all?” Taehyung whispered.

Looking over your shoulder at your baking, piled up around his kitchen, a laugh bubbled slowly from your throat. Head falling onto his shoulder, you closed your eyes as his own laughter rumbled through you.

“What are we going to do with them?”

There was more than one fruitcake on your Christmas table that year. But an extra seat at the table was definitely worth it.

Thank you for reading and reblogging!!

Taglist: @aianloveseven​ @preciouschimine​ 

Main masterlist here

[frauleinjustice]

Saiouma Prompt: Christmas Eve

Good afternoon, everyone! Merry Christmas! I wanted to do a short-”short” KJDJKFDKJFD- oneshot with the good boys! And of course: in one of my favorite AUs ever, phantom thief/detective, heheh....

Summary: Shuichi thought he was going to spend Christmas Eve alone, since he didn’t have anyone to spend it with romantically. But when he arrives home, he’ll receive a nice surprise: the phantom thief, Ouma Kokichi, there! And so, they spend Christmas Eve together, enjoying Christmas cake, exchanging presents... and just being happy to be with the one they fell for...

Hehe so basically, just wanted to write some cute fluff! As always, I hope you enjoy and thank you in advanced for reading if you do~! Once more, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! I hope you all had a great Christmas Eve/having a fantastic Christmas Day! 🎄 ♥

Tonight was Christmas Eve. Decorations lit up the city and couples happily strolled down the streets. Shuichi himself was currently heading back home while holding a bag containing a Christmas cake inside. It’d normally be very difficult to still find one during this time, but this was actually a personal order made by a baker. The baker was friends with the latest client Shuichi helped, and so as thanks, asked their baker friend to have a cake prepared just for him. He was truly appreciative, and couldn’t wait to enjoy it once he got home. In truth… he was going to spend tonight at home. He didn’t have anyone to spend it romantically with, and his colleagues were spending tonight with their own significant other/spouse. Not that being single usually bothered him, since he was normally a very busy man anyway, but even he couldn’t deny how nice it must feel to spend tonight with someone you love… “Maybe I’ll just bring any leftover slices to my job when we have our Christmas party tomorrow…” He mumbles to himself as makes his way up the stairs to his apartment building. Kicking off any extra snow, he takes out his keys and enters inside with a small huff of relief after finally being out of the cold. 

He hangs his coat up and takes off his shoes after placing the bag of cake on the living room table. He then plops onto the couch and closes his eyes for a moment, muttering: “Ahh, warmth… I can’t wait to have some coffee…” 

And as if his wishes were answered, a mug of coffee is placed on the table. “Heeere you go: eggnog latte!” 

“Mmm, thank you, Ouma-kun…” And then the realization hits him. “-?!” Practically rocketing back up on the couch, he instantly snaps his neck to the direction of a certain voice. “W-Wait, what the: O-Ouma-kun?!” 

“Nishishi! Surpriiiise!” Declares the man with his arms dramatically raised up before he sits down on the opposite couch and sips his own mug of coffee. It was none other than the infamous phantom thief, Ouma Kokichi. He had barged his way into the detective’s apartment while he was out. Not that it was the first time he suddenly showed up out of nowhere, no matter if Shuichi was already there or not; yet it shocks the detective all the same each and everytime, much to the other’s amusement. “Are you always going to be that shocked when I appear, Saihara-chan? You should hurry up and get used to it, or you might die from a heart attack!” He chides as if he were actually concerned, yet he had a sly grin on his face.

“A-And whose fault would that be?! That is not the kind of thing one should get used to, Ouma-kun!” The snicker he gets in response makes him pout even harder, huffing before he takes a sip of his coffee to warm himself up. He wondered if Kokichi had remembered him saying he was a fan of this seasonal drink one time, hence why he made it. It’d actually make him kind of happy, if so: and it tasted good, too… “Anyway… wh-what are you doing here? Are you not spending tonight with anyone special…?”

“Huh?” Looking at him as if he just asked a severely dumb question, Kokichi just scoffs at him. “You think I have time for cheesy crap like that? I’m not a hopeless romantic like you, Saihara-chan. Besides… it’s much more fun to torment you. So if you thought you were going to spend your precious little Christmas Eve in peace…” He holds a finger to his lips with a sly smile and leering look in his eyes. “Think again.” 

“.............” Shuichi just gives him a baffled look before he hangs his head low with a groan. “Lucky me…” Despite his seemingly complaints, he wasn’t actually mad about it. If anything: he was actually happy to see him. It had honestly been a while since he’s done so. He couldn’t deny that he actually missed him… and while it wasn’t new for Kokichi to sometimes not show up in a case of his at all: at this point, he had gotten so used to encountering him that it felt odd whenever he didn’t. And now here he was, having made himself comfortable in Shuichi’s home. Kokichi wasn’t even wearing his usual white suit, instead wearing a purple casual dress shirt and black pants. His hair was also in a small ponytail, too. They often didn’t encounter each other outside of their occupations, so it was a rare sight to see Kokichi in regular clothes. Shuichi couldn’t help but stare for a moment, finding him handsome… and he found his ponytail cute as well, before blushing slightly and darting his eyes away when he caught himself looking so much.

Kokichi had noticed him staring and couldn’t help the giddy smile on his face, his own cheeks turning a light pink. He loves the thought of looking so attractive to him that he can’t help but stare. And Kokichi thought Shuichi looked just as attractive in casual wear as well, the detective wearing a gray sweater over dark blue jeans. He found him attractive regardless, in all honesty. Not just physically: everything about the detective made him grow more and more attracted to him. A man who can keep up with him, but can still surprise him, and even be unpredictable to the thief at times; those were things Kokichi very rarely found in a person, and while it sometimes frustrates him that he can’t figure him out… at the same time, he loves it, too. He never thought it would be a detective that fascinates him in a way no else does: and in turn, Shuichi never grew so fond of a criminal like he did for Kokichi. While he can still annoy, confuse, and irritate him a lot… Kokichi can also surprise him, make him smile, make him laugh, even assist him at times…. and made him even grow to enjoy their exhilarating chases into the night. He was just such a big mystery to the detective… one that fascinates him, wants to figure out more… a man that truly intrigues him like no other.

In all honesty, both had been scared for a moment. What if Shuichi came home with a significant other, if he had one? Or what if Kokichi was spending tonight with his own significant other, if he had one? Nerve-wrecking questions that went through their minds before they encountered each other in Shuichi’s home. Even if neither dared to tell the other yet, they fell for each other… so if either assumption had been true, it would’ve broken one or the other’s heart. But now that they know neither assumption was true, it was a sea of relief washed over them both. It especially made Shuichi so happy that he suddenly mumbles: “...I brought home some Christmas cake. I’ll bring plates for us.” Before walking suspiciously fast to the kitchen. He was trying to hide the smile that dares form on his wriggling mouth. He wasn’t going to spend Christmas Eve alone, after all… and with the person he secretly wanted to spend it with the most. 

“?” Raising an eyebrow, Kokichi wasn’t going to let that slide as he waltzed into the kitchen, snaking his arms around the detective’s waist from behind. “Saihara-chaaan?” He tried leaning his head over to look up at him, which made Shuichi quickly turn his head away so he couldn’t see it. Though unfortunately for him, Kokichi had seen that smile on his face for a flash of a second, “Ohh?” An intrigued hum leaves him as the smile on his face widens into an amused one, drumming his fingers along the area of Shuichi’s stomach. “What are you smiling about, hmm? Is Saihara-chan that happy to see me~?”

“Ack…!” He naturally hit the nail right on the head, Shuichi’s eyes nervously darting about as he stammered out: “Th...That’s…! I-I, well, uh…. Th-that information is…. cl-classified!” 

“Uh-huuuh. Sure it is.” That was precisely the reaction he wanted for his surprise visit. Shuichi was so happy to see him… it made him giddily bounce on his feet and his heart flutter a bit in his chest. Much as he wanted to keep teasing his flustered, whining detective, he is excited to eat some cake with him. And so, he lets go of him as he chimes: “Anyways, cake time! Better hurry or I’ll eat the entire thing, myself!”

“Ueeue.. o-okay.…” A small exhale to compose himself, Shuichi nods and also gathers a knife to cut the cake with. Kokichi decides to grab forks for them before they both head back to the table. Once he sets everything down, Shuichi takes the container out of the bag and lifts the lids up. He cuts them both a slice and places it on their plates. “This looks so tasty… time to enjoy.” When he takes a bite, he hums in delight, giving an approving nod. “And just as tasty as it looks, too! I love it. And to think I got a personal order from a professional baker… ah, because you see, the latest client I helped asked his baker friend to have an order of this personally made for me, as additional thanks for helping him out.”

Kokichi also gives a  delighted hum at how delicious the cake tastes. So sweet and fluffy… he can tell this was very well made. “Mmm?” He hummed curiously when Shuichi told him that. “Is that so? Saihara-chan must’ve really done that great of a job, to get thanked like this. But you always do, don’t you?”

“Ah…!” The genuine compliment without the usual back handedness caught him by surprise. “Oh, th-thank you. That’s very kind of you to say, Ouma-kun…”

“Nishishi…” Kokichi just smiles brightly and nods before he continues eating. He truly meant what he said, too: Shuichi truly was a one of a kind when it came to detectives. Serious, intelligent, intuitive… yet kind, caring, and very passionate about his job. He was never one to resort to shady measures to get what he wants, and it was obvious that he truly cares about his clients, and would never be the type to give up on them. That kind of passion was sadly rare to find in most detectives and officers in general. Even if he knows the detective would be too modest to agree, Kokichi feels he truly is a great example that other detectives should follow. 

For a moment, the two ate their cake in comfortable silence. After taking a small sip of his coffee, does Shuichi speak up as he asks: “I’m curious… how have you been? I haven’t seen you in a while, so that’s why I was even more surprised than usual to suddenly see you…”

“Mmn, I’ve been good.” He answers, taking another bite out of his cake before he continues. “I’m a very busy man, you know. I’m in hot demand right now!” Or rather, he had been busy with an especially difficult heist. Even for a master thief like him, stealing a treasure from a very heavily guarded, giant cruise ship was no easy task at all. “I was almost shot, stabbed, thrown in the lake… you should’ve seen it!” And while nearly getting stabbed or thrown into the lake was a lie…. He was chased down by officers and security guards from the ship as soon as he could escape it. Those security officers did carry guns, and had Kokichi not used his usual tricks to lose the police: he probably could have been shot at… 

“I...I see… and don’t say things like that so excitedly…” He sighs. Though he was glad to hear he’s been good, and that he returned safely from his mission. He couldn’t help but worry about him at times whenever he hasn’t seen him in a while, always hoping that he doesn’t get hurt or worse out there… “And here I was wondering if you’ve finally been arrested. Heh, heh, heh.” 

“Hmph!” He comically puffs his cheeks out, jabbing his fork in Shuichi’s direction as he rants: “Saihara-chan thinks he’s so funny, huh? As if! I lost them so easily when they tried to chase me: Boring. Only you can keep up with me, Saihara-chan. That’s why you aren’t boring.”

“O...Ouma-kun..." The serious look on Kokichi’s face as he says that, and the lack of the usual joking or patronizing tone in his voice… he knew this was something that, when said by Ouma Kokichi: was extremely special. He makes their chases feel fun: he isn’t boring to him. It made a warm smile form on his face as he looked down at his plate. “Maybe odd of me to say, but… thank you. I’m… actually kind of happy to hear that.” 

“Good.” He was glad Shuichi believed him. It isn’t something he would even say as a joke, after all. “But aww…” Now that mischievous smile was right back on his face as he now decides to stand up and sit at the couch Shuichi was on, leaning against him. “Could it be that… Saihara-chan missed meeee~?”

“G-Gah!” He yelps when Kokichi suddenly sits next to him, quickly turning his face away. “I-I…!” He nervously darts his eyes around before hanging his head low. “.......” And instead of dodging the question again, he mumbles a quiet: “Y….Yes… I did...”

“!” He expected he’d get another ‘that’s classified’ as a response, which would’ve made him laugh: but Shuichi just flat out admitting that he did miss him makes him beam even more.“...Hah! That’s what I thought! You’d better had. And I guess… I missed Saihara-chan, too.” But then quickly adds in before he can get embarrassed, too:  “...Missed driving him crazy, that is~!” 

“G-Geez…” He playfully gives him a nudge, chuckling softly when Kokichi nuzzles against his arm with a snicker. Despite the rising heat to his cheeks, he looks down at Kokichi with a soft smile on his face, receiving the same look in return. Kokichi also missing him made Shuichi happy, too. Both truly had grown on each other, to the point that they can’t be away from each other for long. “Anyway, you nerd… let’s finish eating. There is something I… um….” He shyly looks away. “...W-Want to give you.”

“...Oh?” He tilts his head. “You got me a present…?” Inside of Shuichi’s bag was a gift he bought for Kokichi. He had bought it without thinking, despite thinking on his way home that he wouldn’t even see him: but he still wanted to buy him something, even if he knew that gift exchanging was moreso a thing couples did on Christmas Eve. An excited glint in his eyes, Kokichi nods his head and goes back over to where he was originally sitting. “Ooookay! I expect that Saihara-chan bought me something worthy of an esteemed phantom thief such as myself. ...Just like I know he will like what I got for him, too!”

“!” Shuichi’s eyes widened in surprise. “You… bought me something, too? R-Really?” Kokichi did have the same idea. Even if he’d normally find such things cheesy, he wanted to get something for Shuichi: something he will claim he’s sure will love, but in truth, hopes that he will. “I know it’s early to say this, but… th-thank you! I’m sure I will love it. And I hope you’ll love what I got you as well…”

“Mmmhm! It’s a gift from me, so I know you’ll love it!” He snickers, before his smile softens a bit. “...If it’s a gift from Saihara-chan, then I know it’ll be good. And that’s not a lie!”

“H-Heheh…” That made him happy to hear… After a while, the boys finished their slices and drinks. After taking a quick moment to wash the dishes, Shuichi places the lid back on the cake container and puts it away in the fridge. He then goes to grab his bag to retrieve the gift bag inside it, with Kokichi doing the same before they sit close to each other. “Alright, um… d-do you want to go first? Here…” Shuichi hands Kokichi the box inside of the gift bag. It was a white gift box, wrapped with a pretty lavender ribbon. “...For you. I-I know you said you expect it to be good, but I still hope you’ll like it…”

“Saihara-chan worries too much… okay! Time to see how satisfactory this gift shall beeee!” With that, Kokichi carefully undoes the ribbon instead of just tearing it off, since he liked it. He eagerly opens the gift box… before his eyes go wide. “!” Inside was a diamond tassel brooch. The brooch part was in the shape of a crown with gold accents, while the smaller end had a purple rose motif on it. Slowly, Kokichi holds it in his hands to have a good look at it, completely in awe. “Saihara-chan…. this is….”

Kokichi looked so amazed, much to his relief… he clasps his hands together as he explains: “Y...Yeah! It’s a diamond brooch. I figured that… since you love to incorporate fancy accessories in your clothes,  you may like something like this. Since you’re a phantom thief, I thought you would like one made out of diamonds, h-hehe… and you seem to like purple, so I thought you would like the rose motif on the smaller end.”

“Saihara-chan… really put that much thought into it, huh…?” He could’ve just simply bought him any kind of brooch, and yet, he wanted to buy him a specific kind that Kokichi could especially love. That was just like him, he thought to himself: and exactly what he loved about him. 

He nods, giving him a warm smile. “Mmhm…. I wanted it to really be a present that you will really love. If you’d ever like to, maybe you can wear it with your phantom thief outfit. Ah, actually: would you like to put it on? I’d love to see how it looks on you.” Nodding, Kokichi proceeds to place the brooch on his shirt. “Ohh…!” Shuichi utters a small gasp of awe as he takes a close look. “It looks very nice on you, Ouma-kun! I just knew it would.” 

“......” Kokichi could feel his cheeks heat up. Shuichi thought it looked nice on him… even if he was a bit flustered, Kokichi was genuinely very happy. “Shumai… I…” And slowly, a bright, genuine smile begins to widen on his face. “...I love it! A very worthy and befitting present for me, indeed! Nishishi!” He exclaims happily with a laugh, rapidly nodding his head. “Mmmhm! I’m definitely going to be wearing this with my thief outfit from now on: thanks, Saihara-chan! You’re the best.” 

“I’m so glad…!” It was music to Shuichi’s ears to hear how much he loved it, laughing along with him. He was truly relieved that he did, making the spontaneous buy all the more worth it.

“Now, it’s Saihara-chan’s turn to open his gift! Here, here!” He chimes excitedly, practically shoving the present in his hands. The gift box was brown with a gold victorian pattern on it, complete with a black bow. “Ahh, such pretty wrapping paper and bow… alright, let’s see…!” After carefully undoing the wrapping paper and taking off the ribbon, Shuichi opens it. “!!!!” And seeing what was inside, he nearly dropped the lid of the box in shock. “O...Oh! Th-This is-!!” Inside the box was a mystery novel. Not only that, but it was an incredibly rare first edition of the book. “This is a… first edition! And from such an esteemed author such as this… normally you’d have to pay an arm and a leg for this, wouldn’t you?” 

Kokichi’s face lit up when seeing how instantly excited and surprised Shuichi was. “Riiight~? But that’s not all: open it to the very first page.”  

“Ah?” A curious head tilt, Shuichi does as told and opens it to the first page. “!!!” He gasps when seeing that the author’s signature was on it. “I-It even has the author’s signature on it, too?! Ah..!!” This was not only one of Shuichi’s most favorite authors, but they were considered to be one of the best mystery novel writers out there. So to have not only a first edition of their, but also their signature: saying Shuichi loved would be a great understatement. This was something he was going to absolutely treasure. “This is like a dream come true… I adore this author’s works. And now I have a first edition of their book… and their signature, too! I can’t believe it!” 

“Nishishi! Dork!” He teases, but seeing Shuichi’s growing excitement as he observes his present was so adoring to see, he found him so cute. Even if he was sure Shuichi would love it… it still relieved him to see he truly does. “I knew Saihara-chan would love it! Better not tell anyone about it, cause I stole it: but that’s a lie. I was a good boy and got it legitimately with help from some goood buddies of mine with connections! I personally had the author give me this signature. This wasn’t easy to nab, you know: so you’d better appreciate it!” 

Just as he was about to panic at his lie, he playfully rolls his eyes before nodding his head. “Of...of course! I’m very appreciative, Ouma-kun, th-thank you so much! This is the best kind of present I could ever get..!” He gives a thankful bow of his head. “I promise to take great care of it.”

“Good, good!” He trusts that he will, so Kokichi didn’t have to worry. He was also going to take great care of the brooch Shuichi got for him, too. He couldn’t wait for the next chance to wear it with his thief outfit. Once they take a  moment to safely put their gifts away, Kokichi runs back over to Shuichi and glomps him back down on the couch. “Saihara-chaaan!” 

“W-Woah!” Shuichi let out a surprise yelp when he was glomped down to the couch: but quickly after, starts laughing and wraps his around him in turn. “H-Hahah, Ouma-kun!” 

“Hehehe!” They roll around a bit on the couch,  laughing and smiling together so happily. Tonight was going so wonderfully… both were just having the time of their lives. Once they calmed down a bit, Kokichi rests his head against Shuichi’s chest. The sound of his heart beating calmly was soothing to his ears... “Tonight was fun… Saihara-chan always knows how to keep me entertained.” 

“Eheheh…” His hand lies gently on Kokichi’s back. Slowly, he dares to give it soft rubs. “I’m very happy to hear that, Ouma-kun. Tonight was really fun with you as well. And here I thought… I was just going to be spending it alone. I’m happy I didn’t: and I’m especially that… I could spend tonight with you, Ouma-kun.”

“Sh...Shumai…” He buries his face more into his chest, uttering a very quiet whine into it. He’s glad Shuichi wouldn’t be able to see the rising heat to his cheeks. “S...So sappy, sh-sheesh….You’d better be careful saying things like that. I may just get the wrong idea…” He whispers in a sultry tone, slowly circling his finger around the center of Shuichi’s chest.

“O-Oh...I...uh….” He stumbles on his words. Kokichi could hear his heartbeat suddenly become faster, which made him snicker. “Aww, don’t die on me, Mr. Detective~! Or else your heart will pop right out of your chest!” 

“Uueuueue! Y-You are the worst, sometimes!” He whines, giving his back a harmless smack before he buries his face in his hands.

“Nisishi! Sowwy~!” He laughs, definitely not being sorry as he hops back up to his feet. “Anywaaay! I’d best get going. I tormented Saihara-chan a satisfactory amount tonight!” 

“Ah?” Moving his hands away from his face, he sits up properly before looking up at him. “You’re leaving already…?”

“Yep! I’m a very busy man, you know. I’ve got lots of mayhem to commence tomorrow, so I need my beauty sleep!” In other words, he was going to have his own Christmas party with his crew. It’s why he was really hoping he could have fun with Shuichi tonight, happy that he did. Now, he’d be able to really have some fun tomorrow without any regrets. 

“D-Don’t cause too much trouble, now…” He smiles sheepishly, before he gives a small nod. A part of him wishes he could stay just a bit longer, but he understands he’ll be busy having fun tomorrow. That, and he’ll need to rest up soon for the Christmas party he’ll be going to with his colleagues, himself. “I hope you’ll have a fun Christmas day tomorrow, then. And, ah… thank you for tonight. I had a lot of fun… and thank you once more for the gift, too! I can’t wait to read it later.”

“Noo promises!” He snickers, walking over to where his stuff is. His gift was already put away in his bag, closing it back up. “Thanks, Saihara-chan! I totes will: and you’d better make sure to do the same!” He takes a moment to put on his coat, scarf, and shoes before looking back at him with a smile. “Mmn! Me too. I’m glad you love your gift. Just don’t go “accidentally” pulling an all nighter because you couldn’t put the book down again, nerd!” He teasingly ‘scolds’ with a point of his finger, laughing before his smile softens. “...And your present was nice, too. I’ll make sure it looks eeeextra good on me when you chase me into the night! And I still… have the most important treasure of all to continue pursuing.” 

He just playfully swats a hand in the air when he calls him out like that, chuckling softly with a warm smile. “Thank you, Ouma-kun… I’m happy you also had fun, and that you loved your present. Hehe, well I guess I’d better be prepared for the next time I’ll have to chase you down, then.” Though the last part makes him tilt his head in curiosity. “The... most important treasure?”

“Nishishi…” A glint in his eyes, Kokichi slowly makes his way to him. “As clueless as always… you should know more than anyone what I’m talking about.”

“...Huh?” Shuichi didn't understand what he meant at all… but when Kokichi suddenly stood in front of where he was sitting, before he started to straddle his lap- “-!” A choked gasp leaves him as Kokichi slowly wraps his arms around his neck, pressing his chest up against his. “Wh….Wh-Wha… What are y...”

He chuckles under his breath at the detective’s flustered confusion, ignoring his own rapidly beating heart. “...You still don’t get it? Geez…. I have to do everything myself, don’t I?”

“D...Do what? What are you talking abou…” But before Shuichi could finish getting that out… Kokichi leaned his face in closer, and closer… until ultimately silencing the detective with a kiss. “Mmn-!” His eyes widen and he freezes in place. Kokichi was kissing him. His lips pressed softly against his own… The further he registered that, the more he felt as if his heart was going to burst out of his chest, and his mind going a mile a minute. But despite being so confused… he didn’t dislike this at all. Kokichi’s lips felt so nice, so soft… and before he knew it, he found himself wanting to indulge, just a bit more… and presses his lips firmer against Kokichi’s, deepening it just a bit. 

“....!” Kokichi felt him deepen the kiss just slightly, making a soft gasp vibrate through him. Even if he was the one that dared to initiate the kiss, he felt like he was going to explode if it became more intense. So quickly, even if reluctantly… he breaks away. “Nishi...shishi….” Despite how heated his cheeks were, he has a leering smile on his face, chuckling breathlessly as he gives him an intense look. “The most important treasure I have yet to steal…. that I so dearly want. Is…” He pauses, slowly trailing the finger he pressed against his chest.. Right down to the area over his heart. With a light tap, he leans in much closer again to whisper: “Your. Heart.” 

“............” Shuichi couldn’t even form words. He just stares at him with wide eyes, being so red that steam could shoot out of his head. He was already dying so badly  from this: but this officially killed him. “I...wah...uuwaaahh….”

“Oopsie! I think I just murdered Saihara-chan!” Despite his teasing comment, Kokichi was dying just as badly, wanting to quickly hide that as he climbed off of him and walked over to hoist up his bag and head towards the door. “Welp, I’m out of here! See you later, Saihara-chan! Tonight was not boring at all, thanks to my beloved detective. Merry Christmas~!” And with a wave and a snicker, he exits out of the house.

“B...Bye… I’m glad you had fun. M-Merry Christmas to you, too…” Is what he manages to get out before Kokichi leaves. “.....” He holds a hand to his heart while the other hovers above his lips. He still couldn’t believe Kokichi kissed him… and that he leaned into it. “St...Stupid Ouma-kun...” He mumbles to himself. “...You’ve already stolen it.”