#because pans go in the cupboard

[unsettlingcreature]

nothing lights a fire under your ass more than being unable to afford groceries

[sinofwriting]

4 plus 1 - Max Verstappen (I ❤️ MILFS verse)

Words: 1,499 Summary: Four times Logan celebrated mothers day and the first time he celebrated fathers day (part of the I ❤️ MILFS verse)

Masterlist | Support Me! | I ❤️ MILFS verse

One

The first time Logan celebrated Mother’s Day, he was five. His grandpa had stolen him away from his momma, which had made him pout, but then he had crouched down in front of him and quietly asked if he wanted to buy his momma a present for Mother's Day.

His grandpa, whenever he told the story, always liked to joke that he was surprised that Logan’s head hadn’t fallen off with how hard he had nodded yes.

He had gotten taken to the store where Logan picked out a card that apparently said world’s best mom on it, which had made his grandpa grumble that he was way too young for his daughter to be a mom before letting him pick out a big bouquet of flowers.

Scrambling out of the car and into the house, Logan struggled to hold the flowers that were nearly bigger than him and the card, just barely able to see the way his momma’s jaw had dropped seeing him and the ways tears came to her eyes when he cheerfully wished her a happy momma’s day.

Two

In 2014, Logan got to celebrate mother’s days twice for the first time. His momma not even knowing or realizing that England celebrated it on a completely different day, her bemused expression at him giving her candy and a card staying in his mind.

She had still hugged him tight, pressing kisses all over his face and telling him she was the best son, which had made him squirm, telling her that she was the best momma, the two going back and forth until Logan gave up because she had started to tickle him and his stomach ached from laughing.

Three

Logan stares at the display in front of him, trying not to feel awkward with the eyes boring into him.

“Dude, these are like fifteen grand.” Oscar hisses under his breath. “Yeah and none of them are the one.” He hisses back, giving the employee a polite smile. “Do you have anything else?” Their eyes narrow a little, but they nod, an emotionless smile on their face. “Of course, Sir. Our next display.”

Following them over to the next display, his eyes immediately land on a necklace and he instantly points at it. “That one. I’ll take that one, please.” “Are you sure?” He frowns, “Yes. I’m sure.”

He turns to Oscar as they start to open the case. “Momma is gonna love that one.” “Do you have the money for that?” “Of course.” Oscar’s eyebrows raise. “Are you sure? Because if those were twenty thousand, I can’t imagine how much these will be.” Logan nods, shrugging. “Yeah. I’ve got money.”

The clearing of a throat makes Logan turn back around, the necklace is sitting on the counter in its opened box.

“This necklace is forty thousand pounds.” Logan hears Oscar taking in a sharp breath of air, but Logan is already reaching for his wallet. “I’ll take it. And no gift wrap please.” They blink at him before nodding. “Of course.”

Oscar hits his arm when they disappear with the necklace behind a curtain.

“Are you kidding me? Forty thousand pounds for a necklace? Pan is going to kill you! Mother's Day gift or not!” Logan scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I’m eighteen now and it’s my money. Momma can’t kill me for buying her this. Besides, I haven’t given her a gift under a thousand dollars since I was like six. And she’ll love that necklace.” Oscar looks at him in disbelief, shaking his head. “Okay, it is way too easy to forget that Harry is a billionaire and by proxy you are.” “Something tells me you don’t want to know how much your birthday present was.” “What does that mean?” Logan smiles at Oscar, shrugging. “Logan, what does that mean?”

Four

“Can I help with anything?” Logan jumps at the sound of Max’s voice, nearly banging his head into the opened cupboard door if not for Max, quickly yanking him back. “Shit.” He curses, turning Logan around and running a hand over his forehead and head, checking for bumps. “You okay?” “I’m okay. You just scared me.” He chuckles. “Help with what?” Max eyes him for a moment. “Mother's Day. I know that it’s in between Miami and Imola for you guys, and I didn’t know if you wanted help with anything.” “Oh.”

Logan looks at the older man, he doesn’t need any help with Mother's Day. Already has his momma’s gift sitting in his closet, but Max is asking if he can help. Max cares about their relationship, so he finds himself nodding.

“Actually yeah.” Max’s whole face lights up. “What can I do?” Logan quickly says goodbye to his momma’s Christmas gift, but he guesses that what was supposed to be her Mother's Day can just be her Christmas gift. “There’s this watch she likes, but there’s maybe ten available in the world right now.” He starts to tell Max.

Plus One

Logan has never had a father. And as much as he loves his grandpa, he wasn’t really a father figure for him. The closest he got was maybe Oscar’s dad, but even then he never really saw him enough for that. Max though… Max feels like his dad.

He cares about him, and not just because he’s dating his mom. He talks to Logan, checks in on him, before the first session of every day, Max always ducks into the Williams garage to hug him. He brings him water every time he does media, even when he isn’t scheduled for media for a few hours.

It hasn’t yet been a year, but Logan already can tell he’s fighting a losing battle of not just calling Max his dad. And he knows that Max hasn’t let himself think of himself like that. He’s heard him call him his kid a hundred times, but never once has he called himself Logan’s parent or dad. Always respecting the relationship between his mom and him and the boundaries that Logan has set.

But Logan wants Max to call himself Logan’s dad. Wants to call Max dad to his face and not just to Oscar when he’s too tired to filter or to the media to make the journalists go a little crazy.

So he finds himself laying on the couch, head in his momma’s lap as she runs her fingers through his hair.

“Can we talk?” “Always.” His lips quirk up a bit at the quick response. “It’s about Max.” Her fingers still for just a second before resuming. “What about Max?” Her voice is measured, smooth, and it gives Logan the courage to say the next words. “I want to call Max dad.” His voice goes quiet. “I want him to be my dad.” “Oh, baby.” And her voice breaks around the words.

He sits up to look at her. “Are you mad?” “No.” She smiles, reaching forward to cup his face. “No, baby. Not at all. I’m happy. I’m so happy.” “So, it’s okay?” She laughs, her free hand brushing away her tears. “Logan, you can call anyone you want dad, that’s not my choice, that’s yours.” “Do you think he’ll be okay with it? I want to do it on Father's Day. Give him a card too.” “I think Max will be over the moon.”

A week later, Logan shuffles into the living room, a breakfast tray in his hands, where Max is sitting, watching the recap for Le Mans so far.

“Hi.” He greets. Max smiles at him, “You didn’t need to bring me breakfast.” He shakes his head, stopping Max from getting up. “I wanted to. It’s a special day.” “I mean, Le Mans isn’t this kind of special.” Logan huffs out a laugh, handing over the tray to Max, who places it on the coffee table before sitting on the couch next to him.

“Get enough sleep?” Logan nods, running a hand through his hair, the other clutching at the card he has for Max. “Wasn’t too bad. I actually have something else for you, because y’know special day.” Max’s eyebrows raise and Logan can feel nerves fill him. “I still have no idea what you are talking about.” He shrugs and after a moment he passes over the card, carefully watching Max’s face.

Max looks delighted at getting handed the card, but Logan can see the moment he realizes what kind of card it is. His eyes going wide, his whole body stilling. The room would be quiet if not for the Le Mans highlights playing.

The older man carefully opens it up after a long moment, his breath catching as he reads the written words from Logan.

“Logan,” he starts, and his voice is thick. “Happy Father's Day, dad.” Logan speaks before he can say anything else. “Come here.” He finishes, opening his arms, and Logan dives into them. “I love you so much, kid. So fucking much. I’m gonna be the best dad for you.” “You already are.”

[profoundmakerdreamerss-blog]

It is funny to me how Harry Potter is literally the main character, yet people tend to go like he didn't suffer that much or he wasn't "abused"; Like, how can one misunderstand the literal main character of the damn franchise?

He wasn't abused; yes okay. He absolutely did not grow up inside a cupboard; the tiny place that is mostly reserved for brooms or cleaning supply. He absolutely was not treated inferior to the other child who lived in the same house. He was totally was not treated like a "freak" or a "stain" that his family was ashamed off. He grew up inside a cupboard while there was a literal unused bed in the same house. And you want to know what that screamed to a child, a baby — who slept inside a cupboard while there being a perfectly usable room right there? You are worth nothing and we don't love you and we are ashamed of what you are.

He wasn't starved, or at least he was fed; Yeah, no. We see it from the first book. How Vernon was no food for you and in the cupboard you go — and by the looks of it, that was like his most common punishment. And then, in the second book — you practically see it happen. He was locked, inside a room with only a can of soup that he shared with Hedwig. Now, tell me what it would do to a child — to be given food through a cat flap, and fun fact? Harry got to eat less than people on war rations; in short? He was starved, yes.

He wasn't abused physically so it's not abuse; As for people's thinks abuse isn't abuse until it's physical (which is inherently wrong because abuse isn't only physically, fyi); Harry has learned to dodge Vernon and he states that, very proudly when his uncle tries to grab him. He dodges a flying pan and states that fact, again very proudly as if it is the norm; do you know how heavy pans are? And do you know what would happen when one hits you? If you want an even clearer proof; Vernon Dursley strangles Harry in Ootp. There you go. Also, in the first book, we clearly see Vernon encouraging Dudley to hit Harry. Read between the lines and actually try to understand what that signifies.

And favourite part; When he wasn't treated like a prisoner, or a freak— he was their servant. And that is very much canonical. Tending Petunia's garden during summers and drinking from the water hose in the garden because of how hot it was? Having to wake up early so he can tend the kitchen and when he wasn't doing all that he is locked away. And it is all canon.

In conclusion, Harry— not only grew up to think that he was inhumane, undeserving of love, a freak that didn't even get to have his own bed because someone like him didn't deserve it, physically harmed enough times that he dodges them out of reflex and also the Dursleys' glorified servant; that is not even taking into account what Harry went through in Hogwarts. And after all that if someone tells me; this child, right here — didn't go through much then well, maybe read the books again?

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

I LITERALLY THOUGHT OF YOUR JASON WHEN I SAW THIS TIK TOK: it was someone getting emotional because of their s/o reconnect with hobbies they did during their childhood.

and i just thought of jason presenting reader with baked treats, unknowingly rambling about the treats him and alfred made to give to bruce and kids of crime alley.

and reader just tearing up or (if like me) full on crying and jason holds your hands with his mitten hands, wondering if you burnt yourself from eating them too quick. only for reader to be emotional over his hobbies before he died :(

Cookie Sheets

Ah!! Wait, I LOVE this. Here's a little (mostly) fluffy ramble that spiraled because self-control and Jason Todd do not go together for me. ~500 words

You didn't think anything of it, when Jason picked up baking ingredients during your weekly grocery shopping trip.

You were mildly curious, when he pulled out a worn, handwritten page from his pocket and started to move around the kitchen, pulling bowls and pans out of the cupboards.

You were engaged, watching silently from where you're sat, when the smell of baked goods started to fill your apartment.

He was obviously focused, eyebrows knitted together, and lower lip pulled between his teeth. You really, really wanna listen to the cliché 'kiss the cook' apron he's wearing, but something about the intent look in his eyes tells you this is important.

So you wait, content to study him as he moves fluidly around the kitchen. Your bright grin matches the giddy expression on his face when the oven timer goes off.

It's when he's finally, carefully moving each cookie off the tray to cool when he starts to talk, "Alfred and I used to bake together all the time."

You straighten out immediately, "Yeah?"

He hums in acknowledgment, "Yeah. For everyone, really. Brownies that B took into the office for his meetings. Cakes for Dick to take back to the Titans. Bags of cookies for the kids on the streets. Pies for the shelters in Park Row."

"Oh," You say softly, and the weight of what he's doing settles on your shoulders. It makes your throat tighten, in grief of what was taken from him and in pride that he's rekindling that part of his life.

You almost want to cry over the fact that he's really always been so good. You practically jump out of your seat, moving to pluck a cookie off the counter.

"Doll," Jason practically cries out, voice pitching. He goes to snatch the treat from your hand, "It's still hot!"

You bite into the cookie instead, "It's delicious."

His eyes soften a little, but he still fixes you with a disbelieving gaze, lifting your hand to inspect it for burns, "They weren't going anywhere, you know."

"We can make more, if you want. Take them down to the soup kitchen," You suggest, a little sheepish as he presses a kiss to your fingertips.

Jason smiles at you, and you know you've said the right thing, "I'd like that." His eyes dart back to the cookies for a moment, "Were they really good? It's been a while since I, uh, made them."

You grab another cookie and grin, biting into it even under his disapproving glare. This time, you listen to the apron and plant a kiss on his cheek, "They're good. Really good."

He kisses your forehead in return and tentatively picks up a cookie, turning it over and inspecting his work. He takes a bite, like he's braced for it to be nothing like he remembers. But his body relaxes instead, "Yeah, doll, they are."

You spoil yourself and chase his lips, curious to see if his baking tastes just as good on his tongue. (It does)

[flowershines]

omg in so so fun jay woke up earlier to make breakfast.. can you do morning sx with jay in the kitchen while the members are upstairs asleep while he was about to make breakfast but the reader woke up too

{warnings} ⇨ smut, unprotected sex, creampie, kitchen sex

bf! jay x f! reader wc: 2.1k

not proof read

Stirring in bed he turns his blurred attention from you to the wall, then back to you as he gazes at your sleeping figure. The sun kissed your skin while bringing out your hidden features, the way your lips were slightly parted made him drunk on your beauty. He wanted to put his lips onto your but knew he couldn’t which only made him crave you more, slowly sitting up he made sure to not make noise as he made his way towards the door.

Walking through the empty hallway the only sound that echoed through the silent hallway was the sound of his footsteps, it was unusual for it to be this quiet in the dorms but it being early none of the members were up as they were deep in their slumber. One foot in front of the other he found himself in the kitchen as his stomach rumbled from the lack of food, it was almost as if his stomach knew the second his foot hit the kitchen floor.

Crouching down to the bottom cupboard he gently rummaged through the small compartment as he looked for a pan, grabbing the one closest to him and placing it onto the stove above him he walked over to the fridge grabbing the ingredients to calm his craves. Hearing the noise of pans softly chattering up against one another your eyes squeezed tightly together as your arms were being brought up to your eyes to rub off the sleepiness from them, moving your hand towards Jay’s spot next to you the emptiness filled the air between your fingers.

Wrapping a blanket around your brisk body while sitting up to go see if the noise you heard from rooms away was the man who used to be next to your sleeping figure, as your tired frame rubbed up against the warmth of the blanket your feet dragged on the carpet below you due to your exhausted state. Walking towards your designated path in the room you were standing in, a body rubbed against you as you felt someone wrapping their warmth around you and your blanket. “Good morning, beautiful.” the raspy but recognizable voice spoke, causing you to turn your face halfway towards the man while placing a soft kiss on his cheek while the tip of his ears to turn to a light pink.

His fingers ran across the waistband of your pajamas “You hungry?” he asked while placing his lips onto your necks finally being connected to your figure, nodding towards him he let go of your waist and held your hand as he walked you over towards the table. As you reached the edge of the table his hands wrapped around your hips as he lifted up your tired frame and now sitting on the table, “What did I tell you about picking me up?” you asked while looking down at your fingers as his thumb tilted your head upwards making you look into his eyes as he talked. “And remember when I told you that you are not heavy, or when I told you to not worry about that because I can always carry you so don’t worry.” The light in his eyes made them sparkle, how can a man be this perfect?

Leaning towards your ear he whispered “I like it better when i pick you up in the shower and fuck that pretty cunt of yours.” blush ran across your face from his comment as he walked towards the food on the pan with a smirk very prominent on his face, wrapping the blanket tighter around your figure his words always sent a shiver to your touch yet whenever he talked this way towards you a shiver would be sent throughout your whole body as you feel his words being infused into your veins. Placing the finished omlet on the plate he placed it next to you as he cleaned up the food that you both would share, he only made one as he knew you would tell him that you would only take a bit but then seconds dig into his meal so he just split the omlet into twos.

His body intertwined with yours as he spread your legs as he walked closer towards your clothed cunt, placing his hands on your thighs “I hate it when you talk about yourself like that.” feeling like he was scolding you your eyes started to swell with tears. He noticed and felt horrible as he brought his finger up to under your eye and wiped off your tears that threatened to fall, “I wish you saw yourself how I see you, your so beautiful and you always say your not.” his lips urged to be on yours.

Pushing his lips onto yours desperate for your touch as he ached for your attention, his hands roamed around your body as he hadn’t left any part of your body untouched. “Jay not here.” You said as your hand tried to push him off of you which only made him want to feel you closer, “can’t. get. enough. of. you.” he said in between kisses as his hips rubbed against yours. A noise was heard from the bedroom yet that didn’t stop him from kissing your body, “Serious Jay.” his kisses moved from your face as he trailed down towards your aching heat.

A moan threatened to fall from your lips but as you heard another noise you pushed him off of your clothed pussy no matter how bad you knew you needed him, “So wet, need to fuck you so bad. Please Y/n, want you now. Give me your hand.” he said as you placed your hand onto his as his crouched figure was now standing in front of you as he lead your hand over his growing bulge, “What are you doing?” Jake asked as his vision was still blurred due to him just waking up from his slumber.

Moving your hand below the table Jay took his opportunity and started to jump your hand which made your calm state turn to a more shocked reaction, you were just glad that Jake couldn’t see anything that the man behind you was doing. Your pointer finger started to feel a sticky substance on it as your boyfriend placed both of his hands on the table in front of him, his lips feel in between his teeth covering the moans that we’re some what being muffled. Jake walked over to the fridge and grabbed his favorite drink from the small side cabinet “Wake me up in a couple of hours.” he said as he slowly opened the drink and walked back into his room as your boyfriend let out a moan causing you to place your hand onto his mouth.

“Shh.” Shushing him as his hips started to desperately thrust up into your hand, moving your hand back to your thigh he whined from the loss of your touch. Watching his weakened state you saw his hair dangling in front of his forehead giving him bangs, his lips were shiny from him slightly drooling, blush ran across his face and on his ears, his shirt stuck to his chest, his sweatpants hung loosely around his hips as precum started to form around his tip giving his gray pants a darkened tint.

Getting a sudden rush of energy as you watched his state you pulled his underwear down causing his cock to twitch from the coldness of the air and the lack of touch making you need him more just by seeing how desperate he was. Wrapping your hand around his base you licked the tip but just looking at his cock the veins looked like they were about to burst while his tip turned into a crimson red.

Slowly moving your hand along the veins of his cock he grabs the end of his shirt which was the end closest to you and places it right in between his teeth to stop him from being loud, his head gets thrown back as he moans and grunts into the cloth of his shirt as you continued to tease his tip. Your finger drew circles on his tip as his actions grew desperate, “Please Y/n.” letting go of his cock you told him “We can do it later, not in the kitchen.” hearing your words a switch turned on in him as he grabbed your waist pulling you down from the table and flipping you to lay on the table.

You moaned as his actions started to turn you on while he dominated your state, “Fuck Y/n your such a tease, we never have alone time like this. Can i please fuck you?” humming to yourself you turned to look at him “If you would ask nicely.” he rolled his eyes and leaned up against you causing his hard dick to rub up against your ass. Whispering in your ear he said “My lovely girlfriend, can i please fuck you? I’m desperate to be inside of you it’s starting to hurt, you make me like this and i want your body to feel the best pleasure you have ever felt by my cock. Please?”

His voice ticked your ear as his words traveled down your spine and towards your heat making your pussy soaked, you nodded towards him as he kissed you ear then traveled his trail down your back. His fingers played with the waistband of your pajamas as he rubbed your clit over your clothes while he brung his hand up to your mouth and squeezing your cheeks together, “You better not make any noises.” feeling his cock on you gradually rubbing deeper and deeper against your clothed cunt. Turning towards him you whispered “Please Jay, need you.” he butterflies form in his stomach from your words he always loved how the small things that you do or say will make him go crazy for you.

His cock twitched at your words while precum dripped from his tip and a started to pool on the bottom of the floor, running his finger over his tip he pulled your pants to your ankles as he crouched down getting a more clear look at your drenched cunt.

The lighting of your cunt made it shimmer and glisten making you body look appetizing making him almost drool, standing back up he put his hand in front of your face while you knew he needed your saliva. Spitting onto his hand he brought it back to his mouth and spat on his hand as well causing both of your spit to mix together, he moved his hand down to his dick as he ran his spit filled hand down to the tip to his base completely soaking his cock in both of your slick.

Pushing into your dripping cunt he made sure to take his time giving you time to adjust to his size, “Fuck Y/n you’re so tight.” he said as he squeezed the skin on your hips as he bottomed out inside your dripping cunt. You moaned in response, no words were able to form causing small noises to fall from your lips. “Can I move, beautiful?” Nodding to him the movement of his hips slowly started to move but gradually started to get faster with every thrust he took, you could feel the desperation behind each thrust. You knew he meant best and wants to spend his time with you slow and steady but today you made his figure so needy for you.

“If you keep squeezing around me like t-that i don’t think i can last much longer.” He said as his grip tightened around you while he moved up towards your face giving you kisses while berried deep inside you, your moans started to get louder but you tried to hold them in while not wanting to wake up the other members.

“Right ther-e, Jay. Fuck Yes.” Your voice started to get shaky as his thrusts shallowed and got faster, you could feel his cock twitch inside your cunt his breathing started to get heavier while he started to hold his breath the closer he had gotten to his orgasm. “Where do you want me to cum, Y/n?” He asked while spurting out the words as fast as he can due to lack of his breath “Inside me.” as he was about to really back while asking ‘are you sure’ his orgasm ripped through his words giving him no time to talk.

His cum shot inside you as your orgasm crashed down onto you but him cumming inside you made you be filled with his warm seed, the feeling was enough to make you want to curl up back into bed. After he would fuck you that’s what usually happens anyways, “Thank you my gorgeous baby, I love you so much.” he said kissing your cheek.

[lialacleaf]

Simon Riley X Reader: Domestic Headcanons: Baking

Warnings: Simon misses his Mum :c, fluffy

Pt.2

Simon has very few fond memories of his family but he remembers how his Mum used to cook during the holidays, and would always involve him in the food prep to distract him from his Dad's foul mood.

After losing his family, cooking just isn't the same without his Mum, and even if he isn't on a mission he tries to avoid being in the kitchen because it just aches for him.

But then you come along, working on base under Laswell and Simon constantly hears you fiddling around in the kitchen. He avoids investigating like the plague for the first few weeks but eventually, his curiosity gets the better of him.

He finds you covered in flour in mid-October, making a pumpkin pie crust from scratch, and has to just stand there for a moment and watch in befuddlement as you swear at the bowl you just tipped over.

There's something bubbling on the stove, and you're too distracted to notice that your simmer pot is going to boil over. You've got a mix of orange and lemon slices with diced apple and cinnamon sticks. It's just like how his Mum used to make them.

The click of the stove dial has you jumping, having not noticed the shadowy figure of Ghost slipping into the kitchen.

"Heat's too high," he says, and you blink at him in confusion before understanding settles on your pretty face.

"Shoot! I...forgot to turn that down when I..." you gestured awkwardly to the bowl of flour and he tilts his masked chin downwards at you.

You give him an awkward smile before returning to the task of making your dough.

He doesn't leave immediately, just watches you struggle a bit with kneading the dough before he huffs and yanks his gloves off, pushing you to the side as he surprises you by properly kneading the dough, and laying it in the pie pan perfectly.

You watch him from the corner of your eye as you finish making the filling, and add it to the pie crust.

You can hardly believe that you're baking a pie with Lieutenant Ghost. You shrug it off however and pull two mugs from the cupboard, filling them both with the contents of your pot, however, when you turn around to offer him one, he's already gone.

The second time you're in the kitchen making apple turnovers for your co-worker's birthday, the window is open for you to enjoy an early November rainy day, and you're in your coziest pair of socks.

You almost don't recognize him, jumping at the sight of the tall blonde man who has materialized out of thin air to peel your apples. His eyes peek at you over the top of a black surgical mask, and you feel your heart stop, then start up again with a disjointed stutter as you take in the familiar chocolatey color.

He doesn't say anything, just peels the apples until the bag is empty. You reach for the last one and realize there's no Leuitenant to be seen.

The third time he joins you you're trying to perfect your gravy recipe. Most of the base's inhabitants have gone home for the holidays, but the few that have remained are planning a Thanksgiving potluck.

"You're still here." He actually makes you jump.

"Couldn't afford plane tickets for Christmas and Thanksgiving, and I'm not missing my Dad's pumpkin log and hot cocoa," you explain

He hums softly, leaning against the counter as he examines your cheese biscuits.

Your eyes widen slightly when you see him pull the surgical mask down just enough to take a large bite of the biscuit he nabbed off the tray.

You're greeted with the sight of a sharp jaw and full lips, and you quickly pull your eyes away, focusing on the gravy in your pot.

Something doesn't taste quite right, and you frown softly. Ghost leans over to take a deep whiff, bumping your shoulder in the process.

"You added salt?"

You offer him a deadpan expression.

"Scoot," he orders, pushing you aside and fishing a spoon out of the drawer. He nods to himself after a taste and proceeds to add a hefty helping of rosemary.

You try not to think about the fact that you've never seen his face before now as you try his concoction. It's not bad. "Where'd you learn how to cook, Ghost?"

He stares deeply at you for a few seconds, before he sets the spoon in the sink. "My Mum."

He leaves you after that, and you doubt you're going to see him at the potluck.

You don't see him in the kitchen again until December, and you're baking snickerdoodles to leave the boys with when you return to your family.

He's avoided the kitchen for a few weeks, and you're strangely relieved to see him lurking there.

"Wanted to give you this before you left."

He holds out a carefully wrapped package, and you accept it with a dumbfounded expression. He's out the door again before you've even thanked him.

A few days later you're sitting in the armchair of your parents' house, a pile of unwrapped presents at your feet as you carefully tear away the paper concealing the Leuitenant's gift. You're greeted with the sight of an old leather-bound book, one filled with handwritten recipes you realize upon closer inspection and an elegant Mrs. Riley engraved on the front page.

You have a feeling Ghost will be joining you in the kitchen more often. Maybe even Simon.

AN: Requests are always open!

[delcakoo]

Just thinking about having a sleepover with Niki and when the others come in to check on you guys, they see that Niki is spooning you with a tight hold and then when they are making breakfast, he’s back hugging you refusing to let go, not caring about the teasing his Hyungs are doing -🧋

love how we’re all in niki brainrot ,, ty for the req boba love hope u enjoy <3

9:18AM — sleeping over at your boyfriend’s dorm taught you that 1) he was not a morning person, and 2) you being next to him in bed seemed to make that fact even worse.

“jus’ a few more minutes baby, seriously,” riki mumbles into the crook of your neck, breath tickling your skin softly. even his leg was wrapped tightly over yours, preventing you from any route of escaping his warm embrace.

you sigh. as much as you love the affection, you felt bad for the boys working hard outside to prepare a meal without you two. “we should go help them, c’mon.”

as if he was listening in on the conversation, sunghoon bursts in at that exact moment, clapping his hands annoyingly loud. “times up, kiddos! food’s almost ready and it’s your turn to help out,” he announces, ignoring how the male in bed lazily attempts to throw a pillow at his face. “and niki-ah, jay told you to leave the door open by at least 3 inches last night.”

all sunghoon gets in response is an annoyed groan as riki attempts to dig further under the sheets, only for you to sit up and throw them off him moments later.

“sorry, we’ll be there in a minute.” you smile awkwardly, elbowing your boyfriend as the elder wishes you a pitiful ‘good luck’ before heading to the kitchen.

luckily, it only takes a couple more promises of attention later and reminders of all the delicious food outside for riki to finally get up himself, adjusting his white tank top and tangled hair before following you out the door. the boys all coo at your entry and offer sweet welcomes and greetings — completely contrasting how niki only gets a few aggressive pats on the shoulder.

“hey y/n, wanna take a turn flipping these?” jungwon gestures to the pan cooking pancakes with a sleepy expression, offering you the spatula with a grin once you accept.

everything was going swiftly; the once empty plate next to the stove now containing a tower of buttermilk pancakes, as well as sunoo’s hashbrowns being halfway done. it was almost suspicious how riki had left you alone for more than five minutes, but your confusion quickly went down the drain as two sly arms wrapped around your waist with ease.

“do you need something?” you mumble, trying your best to wobble over to the cupboards and get the syrup despite having another human glued to your back.

riki scoffs, placing his chin on your shoulder. “i don’t need a reason to hold you.”

you catch sunoo and heeseung roll their eyes with a smile, the other boys working around the kitchen only taking glances in surprise — probably because it was rare for riki to show his affection so openly, but you suppose it’s because he’s still half asleep.

“what?” riki catches their lingering eyes, hands caressing your waist gently.

jake smiles like a proud mom in response. “you two are cute.”

“aw, did you want a hug too hyung?” the younger fakes a pout teasingly.

“nah, i have jungwonnie here to give me hugs!” before the poor leader could protest, he’d already been scooped into jake’s playful arms, whining in annoyance as laughter fills the dorm’s kitchen.

you pat riki’s arm, craning your neck up to meet his eyes with a content smile. “guess you’re stuck to hugging me.”

“i think i can live with that.”

[hollowed-theory-hall]

how bad do you think Harry's abuse was? like, okay we all know he was neglected his entire childhood. Do you think he really didn't know his name until he went to school? That he was forced to help around the house the moment he could walk? He prob also didn't know his birthday at some point :(( I love him so much, i want to throttle the dursleys

I mean, just from his behavior I feel like it was pretty bad. I talked about it a bit before and he's very aware he is being mistreated. Harry literally makes a joke about Vernon beating him:

“You don’t seem to need many qualifications to liaise with Muggles. . . . All they want is an O.W.L. in Muggle Studies. . . . ‘Much more important is your enthusiasm, patience, and a good sense of fun!’ ” “You’d need more than a good sense of fun to liaise with my uncle,” said Harry darkly. “Good sense of when to duck, more like . . .”

(OOTP, 657)

As for the abuse itself:

Dudley and his friends beat him often. As mentioned repeatedly.

He slept in a cupboard under the stairs until the Dursleys thought someone else might notice. Only when they got the Hogwarts letter that mentioned the cupboard did they move Harry to Dudley's second bedroom. (The title of the room itself and where Harry was sleeping show how much of an afterthought he was).

The house had no pictures of him, no belongings, no sign Harry lived there, he only got Dudley's cast-offs.

So, yeah, it's definitely neglectful to an insane degree.

As for the more fanon portrayals of the Dursleys' abuse.

They did starve him as a form of punishment:

Uncle Vernon waited until Piers was safely out of the house before starting on Harry. He was so angry he could hardly speak. He managed to say, “Go — cupboard — stay — no meals,” before he collapsed into a chair, and Aunt Petunia had to run and get him a large brandy.

(PS, 23)

And Harry didn't get much food at the Dursleys in general:

This was their encounter with the fact that a full stomach meant good spirits; an empty one, bickering and gloom. Harry was least surprised by this, because he had suffered periods of near starvation at the Dursleys.

(DH, 250)

But he did get to eat with them at the table when he wasn't being punished, seen with Aunt Marge, and when the Dursleys didn't have guests:

Harry, who could see a huge Dudley tantrum coming on, began wolfing down his bacon as fast as possible in case Dudley turned the table over.

(PS, 19)

That being said, Harry seems to be punished at the Dursleys pretty often. (Although, Harry considers sitting with them at the table punishment enough)

So the fanon portrayal of getting locked in the cupboard/his room with no food for who knows how long (or just, not enough food, like in CoS when he shared a canned meal with Hedwig) is actually canon.

He gets physically abused by Dudley, but also by Vernon and Petunia. We saw Petunia try to hit him with a frying pan.

Aunt Petunia knew he hadn’t really done magic, but he still had to duck as she aimed a heavy blow at his head with the soapy frying pan. Then she gave him work to do, with the promise he wouldn’t eat again until he’d finished.

(CoS, 17)

The above qoute mentions how he was forced to do chores with the threat of no food until he's done with his chores. So, yes, he was forced to work at the Dursleys. Another quote indicating he had plenty of practice cleaning over at the Dursleys:

“Filch’ll have me there all night,” said Ron heavily. “No magic! There must be about a hundred cups in that room. I’m no good at Muggle cleaning.” “I’d swap anytime,” said Harry hollowly. “I’ve had loads of practice with the Dursleys. Answering Lockhart’s fan mail . . . he’ll be a nightmare. . . .”

(CoS, 114)

That being said, we see Petunia cooking more often than Harry, and she's also mentioned cleaning on occasion:

At last, at long last, the final evening of Marge’s stay arrived. Aunt Petunia cooked a fancy dinner and Uncle Vernon uncorked several bottles of wine.

(PoA, 26)

“Right — I’m off into town to pick up the dinner jackets for Dudley and me. And you,” he snarled at Harry. “You stay out of your aunt’s way while she’s cleaning.”

(CoS, 14)

I think he wasn't constantly worked like a house elf the way the fandom sometimes portrays it. He was made to clean often enough but he didn't cook that often. The breakfast in PS is likely more of an exception than the norm as whenever any fancy dinner, like with Marge or the Masons, it's always Petunia cooking it, not Harry. So, I don't think Harry cooked or cleaned for them since he could walk, I mean Petunia is a perfectionist about how her house looks, so she wouldn't let a small child who'd do a subpar work do it.

But he was definitely put to work as either punishment or when the Dursleys wanted him occupied. And considering he mentions "plenty of practice" when he's 12 and he spent the last two years at Hogwarts, he likely started doing chores earlier than that, but old enough to use a mop properly. So, I'd guess he started helping to clean the house around the time he was 6 or 7 years old, and started cooking on occasion only very recently before the books start in all likelihood.

The really shitty thing about all his chores is that Dudley isn't doing anything and it's just Harry. This difference is one Harry was always aware of and considers unfair, because it is incredibly unfair. The fact he is forced to do work and gets punished when the other child in the house doesn't adds to the sense of worthlessness the Dursleys already make Harry feel.

Uncle Vernon in general is pretty violent towards Harry, shown in the first quote in this post and in others:

Harry ran down the stairs two at a time, coming to an abrupt halt several steps from the bottom, as long experience had taught him to remain out of arm’s reach of his uncle whenever possible.

(HBP, 45)

I wanted to add the imprisonment in CoS, because the treatment is truly subhuman:

The following morning, he paid a man to fit bars on Harry’s window. He himself fitted a cat-flap in the bedroom door, so that small amounts of food could be pushed inside three times a day. They let Harry out to use the bathroom morning and evening. Otherwise, he was locked in his room around the clock.

(CoS, 28)

They treat him like an actual prisoner. They let him out to the bathroom twice a day! Like WTF! This is so not okay I don't have words.

As for not calling him by his name...

“We could phone Marge,” Uncle Vernon suggested. “Don’t be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy.” The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasn’t there — or rather, as though he was something very nasty that couldn’t understand them, like a slug.

(PS, 19)

They usually refer to Harry simply as "boy" or "the boy", they also use "you" when talking to him or "him" about him, but not his name, except one time in PS when Vernon is faking being nice:

“Er — yes, Harry — about this cupboard. Your aunt and I have been thinking…you’re really getting a bit big for it…we think it might be nice if you moved into Dudley’s second bedroom.

(PS, 30)

Considering how Harry mentions they often don't speak to him, but at him or about him, definitely suggests they don't use his name often. Vernon seems very odd about using Harry's name, and we see it isn't something common, but it does happen. I think Harry did always know his name though, I'm sure he asked, and regardless of how awful the Dursleys are, Petunia likely told him his name in the same breath she talked about how his father was a drunkard that got both him and Lily killed.

We also know they don't do anything for Harry's birthday, and Harry doesn't think they remember it:

The lighted dial of Dudley’s watch, which was dangling over the edge of the sofa on his fat wrist, told Harry he’d be eleven in ten minutes’ time. He lay and watched his birthday tick nearer, wondering if the Dursleys would remember at all, wondering where the letter writer was now.

(PS, 35)

So, it's very plausible the Dursleys never told Harry when his birthday is and that he had to discover it himself somehow.

TL;DR

Harry's abuse at the Dursleys was awful. It included physical abuse from all three Durslesy and periods of starvation.

He was put to chores like cleaning the house, but it wasn't a constant thing where he worked like a house elf. It actually seems Petunia did most of the cooking.

He probably only started cleaning when he was 6 or 7 at the youngest. And cooking is likely a later development.

Harry was allowed to sit at the table and even watch TV on rare occasions but usually didn't get to choose what to watch. It means Harry should be somewhat aware of muggle pop culture at the time.

Harry, in general, wasn't really treated as human. Not having his name used, only talked at, not having his birthday celebrated, not getting pocket money or anything of his own. Not to mention being forced to sleep in the cupboard or on the floor (in the shack on the sea in PS) and getting his food through a cat flap on his bedroom door like an actual prisoner in CoS.

So, while fanon portrayals make the Dursleys worse than they actually are, they are plenty awful on their own. Believe me, if I could throttle them, I would.

[chelseasdagger]

Teacher - Chapter III

Frank Castle x Inexperienced F!Reader

Summary: Frank invites you to hang out with him at a bar on the outskirts of town. After some good food, and lots of teasing, you get invited back to his place to take care of the problem you caused him.

Warnings: age gap (reader is in her early 20s), mentions of drinking and smoking, cursing, grinding, detailed handjob sorry, slight praise kink

Author's Note: I am so incredibly sorry for how long it took for this chapter to come out!! I had a lot of life issues that delayed this, but I'm pretty happy with how this turned out so please accept this super long chapter as my apology/holiday gift!! And if you want to be added to the tag list just let me know. As always, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated :) Leave a comment or shoot me an ask!! I'd love to hear what you think!

Word Count: 9k

Previous Chapters: I, II

“So I was thinkin’… Said you didn’t get many experiences even after high school, right?” Frank asks. His voice slightly muffled through the phone, which is wedged between your ear and your shoulder as you drag the spatula over the food you’re cooking on the stove. He had randomly rang you out of the blue and, after attempting to control your breathing, you answered the call. This was what he chose to greet you with and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t confused by the topic of conversation.

“Good morning to you too,” you tease, the food sizzling as you flip it in the pan. “But no, I haven’t. Why? What’s up?” you question.

“There’s this bar on the edge of town,” he begins his offer. “Little bit of a drive but they got good food,” he explains. 

“Tempting…” you trail off, trying not to immediately agree just because it’s Frank. “Who all is coming?”

“Just me,” he replies. “That alright?”

“Yeah!” Your answer is too loud and far too fast to be playing it cool. After cursing yourself mentally, you try again. “Yeah, I was just wondering if it was a whole… get-together thing.” Your voice grows quiet at the end, not wanting to plant the idea in his head that you’d prefer it if there were more people.

Honestly, you were surprised he was reaching out this soon after the bonfire. It was one of the best nights of your life. Whenever you think about it, there’s this warmth that rushes through you; you’re not sure if the heat was from the big flames or his strong chest you laid against all night.

“Nah, just me. Just thought it would be somethin’ you might like,” you push the spatula around in the teflon pan as he speaks. “Plus it’s another thing off the list, right?”

“Yeah, it is! Thanks, Frank,” you say cheerily as you turn the burner off and open the cupboards to grab two plates.

“No problem, kid. Just thought about you, y’know?” You sink your teeth in your lower lip to calm yourself down before another thought comes to mind.

“Oh! When are we going?”

“Tonight,” he answers nonchalantly and your eyes grow wide. “If you’re free.”

You seriously weren’t expecting him to want to see you only two days since you two were last together. In your head, Frank is so calm and collected and you’re practically certain that this… thing you two have going on isn’t as big of a deal to him as it is to you. Still, you try not to question too much why he actually seems to enjoy having you around. Instead, you decide to just take the good as it comes.

“I am, I can do tonight. But I’m not sure I have something to wear. Is it like a club? Should I dress up or is it more jeans and—?” You don’t even realize when your voice picks up in speed and the questions fly out faster than you intend for them to, but Frank is quick to center you out of the beginning of your spiral.

“Just wear somethin’ cute, alright? I’ve seen some of your outfits, sweetheart, you’ll be fine.” You bite the inside of your cheek at his comment and inhale deeply before sighing. “I’ll pick you up at six, okay?” You hum an agreement as he confirms the time and say a goodbye before hanging up.

As you pull the phone away from your ear, you see an incoming text from your best friend drop down from the top of the screen.

“I’m two minutes away! I can’t wait to hear everything.”

That night when you got home from the bonfire, she had sent many texts in hopes of finding out the reasoning behind the newfound closeness between you and Frank. In your exhausted and slightly inebriated state, you told her that you would have her over Saturday morning to explain it all to her. You were much too tired to string the words together and you also know how she can tend to put her own emotions onto words; the last thing you needed was for her to hear the little arrangement you and Frank have and blow it out of proportion.

You set the table as you wait for her, making sure to leave a mug beside her plate for her tea that tends to be the staple of her breakfast. By the time the food is divvied up for each of you, there’s an impatient knock at the door. You shake your head with a smile as you open the door and she’s pushing past you as the questions immediately begin to roll off her tongue.

After guiding her to the small dining table in the kitchen, you watch her sit down and her eyes never stray from you. Her voice continues to fill the air as she talks over herself; there’s no distinct end to one sentence and the beginning of the next. By the time you’re sitting beside her and about to dig into your meal she finally covers her mouth, stopping all the enthusiastic queries she desperately wants to know.

“I’m gonna let you talk,” she mumbles behind her palms. You laugh at her attempts to force herself to be quiet and pick up a forkful of your food.

“I promise you it’s not as exciting as you think it is,” you warn her before popping the food in your mouth.

You start at the beginning—trying to skim over the details of your not-so-controlled crush on Frank as well as the more heated parts of the things you two have done together. Excited gasps fill the space surrounding the dining table and you watch as her eyes go wide when you mention it was his idea. Her mouth gets the better of her though and she begins to ask more questions while you speak. You make sure to answer all of them in time, save for a few chuckles here and there, before finishing your last bite.

“I actually have a question for you now,” you start again, watching as confusion washes over her features. “Frank called me this morning and he wants to take me out to this bar he likes. I just don’t know what to wear and I was hoping… you could help me?” You hesitantly look up to face her and you’re met with a beaming grin.

“Is this a date?! Is this the first one? Are you going back to his place after?” You shake your head once again as the sudden influx of questions fill the air.

“No, it’s not a date. I mean… I don���t think it is?” you let your thought process be shown aloud and watch as her giddy expression comes back to the surface. “It’s not! We’re just friends and he’s doing me a favor. I’m sure of it.” You decide then and there that you can’t afford to hold out hope and expect more than what he’s given you—which is already so much.

She raises her eyebrows up from behind the rim of her mug and you scoff at her knowing look. You brush your hand through your hair and try your hardest to not let your anxiety creep in about the idea of being on a proper date with Frank Castle.

And so together the two of you spend the afternoon diving through your closet together for something that could fit. It felt similar to a movie montage where the teenage girls toss different colorful fabrics through the air. With a growing pile on the floor of your bedroom, she gasps once you stand in the completed outfit.

“That’s the one!” she says excitedly before tugging you towards the bathroom. “Time for makeup!” She eagerly pats for you to sit on the counter while searching through your, admittedly limited, makeup bag. Doing the best with what she’s got, she gets to work on the eyeshadows and blush, finishing up with a curl of your eyelashes and combing mascara through them. You always loved how focused she got when it was time for something special; her tongue pokes past her lips as she concentrates, her eyes squinting to get the very last detail to sit right.

Once she’s satisfied, she spins you around to see yourself in the mirror and you’re actually surprised at how nice it all came together. You’re wearing an oversized, comfy jumper, tights that line your legs, and a black skirt that accentuates your frame. It’s not too fancy, but the black tights make your outfit more sleek and you silently hope that Frank will like it. As you fluff your hair up to give it some more volume, you thank her behind a wide smile.

A buzz of excitement rushes through you as you wait by the front door and hear the heavy revving from the engine of Frank’s van. You physically shake your arms in an attempt to let go of some of the nerves that built up and your friend gives you a quick hug.

“You got it, baby!” she encourages sweetly. “Have fun!” she calls out as you slip past the door. Making your way down your porch steps, you hear her shout something else from behind you. “Don’t do anything stupid!”

You chuckle at her warnings and make your way to the big, black van. You open the door and find Frank sitting with his elbow on his armrest and his head in his palm as he turns to face you. You stand there for a moment and await his initial reaction to your outfit. His eyes widen slightly before they rake over your boy, his lips parting as he takes it all in.

He brushes his thumb along the defined line of his jaw before sinking his teeth into his lower lip. His eyes settle on the small slit of the skirt that rests high on your thigh. There’s a pause for a moment before he finally speaks up.

“Told you you’d find somethin’ cute.” He fixes his posture and gives you a smile as you roll your eyes and sit in the passenger seat. Being with him felt easy now—of course there’s still the butterflies, which you’re expecting to make a permanent home in your stomach any day now, but it’s mostly when you’re about to see him. When you’re actually in his presence, it all fades away and you love how comfortable he makes you feel.

If you had told yourself a few weeks ago that you’d be on a half hour car ride with Frank Castle to the outskirts of town, she probably would’ve brushed it off as some sick joke. But here you are, sitting beside him and watching as he flips through radio stations until he settles on a classic rock song. You enjoyed getting to discover little pieces of him the more time you spent with him.

As he drives under the lamp posts longing the winding roads, you watch as the passing lights illuminate his face before it’s cloaked in shadows of the night once again. Each time you move underneath them, light showcases his features in a warm glow for mere moments at a time. You think your new favorite thing might be when the gleam seeps into the small dip in the bridge of his nose. That small highlight makes you smile and he catches it as he turns to look at you once you’re stopped at a red light.

“What is it?” he questions, his eyes squinting slightly as he looks at you. With a shake of your head, you face back to the light strung up in the air. His gaze doesn’t leave the side of your face though, and you know he’ll want an answer.

“This is just nice,” you shrug your shoulders. “Thank you for thinking of me,” you add. You want to make sure he knew how happy you were to be doing this, despite your quiet nature due to your fear of somehow screwing this up with your words.

“Haven’t even done anything,” he laughs softly.

“Well, I’m still enjoying myself,” you reply in a gentle tone. Frank doesn’t say anything more as he continues to look at you. The light changes and a green glow washes over your face, queuing him to face the open road once again. You glance down as his hand moves to the gear shift, trying not to focus too long on how the veins in his hand are accentuated as he curls his fingers around the knob.

Frank speaks up again after a moment and you quickly recenter your attention. He engages you in some light conversation and pretty soon you’re laughing along to his comedic storytelling. You don’t even realize you’ve arrived until he’s put the car in park and turns the key off in the ignition. Looking out from behind the glass in front of you, you see the neon lights surrounding the big, bold letters of the name of the bar. It shines brightly in the night sky and acts as a small beacon in the dark parking lot.

You look up at the sound of the driver side door closing and realize Frank has left the car. You reach for your bag that’s resting on the floor between your feet and by the time you move for the handle, he’s opening your door for you. It’s the first time you’re able to truly take him in. He’s wearing a pair of nicely fitting blue jeans and a grey jacket, complete with the black boots you’ve never seen him without. You can’t tell what he’s wearing under the thick material that conceals his chest though, and you find yourself hoping it’s something tighter and hugs his torso.

“You ready?” he asks, and you nod in response. “Alright, watch your step,” he warns and you feel his hand bracing your upper arm as you hop out from the slightly lifted van. Once you’re secure on the ground, the two of you begin making your way towards the entrance. As you pass by the cars parked in organized rows under dim lamplights, you begin to make out the few scattered people smoking and even spot a couple sharing a cigarette just outside the main doors.

Once inside the building, he shrugs off the jacket and you can finally piece together his outfit. Frank’s broad shoulders stretch the fabric of the dark blue button up shirt. It’s tucked into his denim pants and secured with a black belt. He fits the attire of everyone else here in the bar, but still stands over a head taller than the rest—not to mention infinitely more attractive. You try desperately to rip your eyes away from him, and in doing so, take in the scenery of the pub.

The bar is crowded but not so occupied that you can’t move. The loud, overlapping voices meld to create a soft droning that accompanies the background. It doesn’t stand a chance to the band though, whose loud amplifiers cause a shake in your chest with each note they strum. Polished wood lines the walls and there’s photographs of smiling people decorating them, forever cherished behind glass frames. It feels oddly homey, admittedly impressive for a place you’ve never stepped foot into before tonight.

You accidentally bump into Frank and he steadies you with his large hands on your waist. He’s staring down at you with a subtle smile on his face. He begins to talk but you don’t have the slightest clue what he’s saying; the song that’s playing is far too loud to hear the lower tone of his voice. Shaking your head with a frown, you let him know you can’t understand him and his smile grows wider. He then leans down, his fingers brushing your hair away from your ear before he speaks.

“Asked if you wanted to eat,” he starts, his breath immediately warming the side of your neck. With just those few words, it feels like all the other noise falls away. All you can focus on is the rumble in his voice and how the words feel as if they dance down your spine. “I’m starving,” he adds, and you’re certain your new headspace gave his words a different context than he intended.

He pulls away for your response and all you can muster up is a slow blink and a delayed nod. There’s no cocky smirk at your expression and you wonder if maybe he decided to spare you the embarrassment this time. He promptly turns and you fall in line beside him, letting him guide you around the crowd. His palm finds its way to your lower back as he leads you and just like that, your heart picks up in pace once more.

You’ve only seen the same small movement depicted in movies and you can now safely say that experiencing it is so much more exhilarating. Part of you is frustrated that such an insignificant touch can make you this excited, but Frank’s charm has a tremendous effect on you. Still, you tell yourself it’s the anticipation of his hand being elsewhere on your body that riles you up.

His hand stays put until the two of you reach a booth lining the back wall. There’s a small lamp that bathes the whole table in a warm glow and you and Frank place your things down before sliding into the long seats. As you stare at him from across the table, you watch as his eyes scan the crowd and then the main stage as he focuses on the band. They’re currently playing a cover of a classic rock song and Frank smiles as he nods his head to the music.

“This place is nice,” you raise your voice slightly to be heard over the music. He turns to face you and his smile grows wider.

“Yeah? You like it?” His question is accompanied by your own nod and he continues. “I’m sure there’s fancier ones close to town, but I’ve been coming here for years and they’ve always been good.”

He raises his hand in the air, tilting his head up and leaning to the side as if to catch someone’s attention. You follow his line of sight and look over your shoulder to see a woman with a black apron tied around her waist. She looks slightly past you as a grin covers her face and walks over to your table quicker than you expected.

“Frank?! What are you doing here?” Her voice is already grating and she’s only said a handful of words. Her tone is drawn out, almost flirtatiously, and she stands closer to him than you would’ve liked.

“Just showing her around,” he answers simply. He looks at you and when the waitress does the same, her face falls. You muster up an awkward smile and try to shake off the weird look she gives you. “She’s never been here before, you think we could get some menus?”

“Sure thing,” she mumbles, stepping away only to return a moment later with two long, laminated sheets of paper. She drops them to the table and you spare yourself the trouble of looking at her again.

“She sure seems to like you,” you speak up once she’s left. Frank scoffs before grabbing a menu and shaking his head. “Did you see the way she looked at me? What did I do?” You ask with a frown, wondering if you did something unintentionally.

“She’s probably just pissed cause you’re sitting with me and she’s not,” he answers with a sigh. He flips the paper around and you notice the way his eyes dart around the page. His answer wasn’t very reassuring though, and you still feel the tension in your body. As you scan the small print of the menu in your hands, you can feel his gaze on you. You try to shake the disappointment and to make it less obvious that what she said affected you, but you’re not certain how good of an actress you are.

“Y’know what?” he speaks up after a few seconds. You raise your face to him as he continues, “I know this place a couple of blocks down? Best god damn beer I’ve had.” His hand disappears under the table and a moment later you see his fingers curled around his jacket. “It’s German! You haven’t tried that one before.” He leans across the table before whispering, “You’re gonna hate it.”

His attempts at distracting you work well and you can’t help the laughter escaping you at the final thing he said. Frank’s own crooked smile returns at your reaction and a softness settles into his brown eyes.

“There she is,” he mumbles once he sees your regular self bubble back up to the surface. You bring in a deep breath and choose to shake off any residual awkwardness you felt from before.

“No, no it’s okay. We can stay here.” You finish your sentence and look back towards the music before facing him. His hands are empty now as he continues to stare at you and you feel confident in your choice to stay.

After looking over the endless list of drinks, burgers, and other appetizers, you read a description of a sandwich that makes your stomach rumble to life. You immediately decide on it without a second thought and smile up at Frank, watching him run his finger across the page between two options and looking quite indecisive.

Before long, the ill behaved waitress is back to take down your order. You pick your sandwich, remembering to take off the toppings you aren’t too fond of, add in an order of fries, and your usual favorite drink to top it off. With a hesitant glance up, you see her scribbling down your order on the small notepad in her hand. Her expression is twisted up as if she smelled something foul and you feel that uneasy feeling settling in once more.

“I’ll have the same as my date here,” Frank answers before she can ask about his meal. He gently taps the two menus on the tabletop before handing them over to her. His lips part as his eyes drag over your features and you notice the way they stop for a little longer than they should when they reach your mouth.

To say you were shocked was an understatement. You weren’t sure if he said it just to get under her skin or not but part of you didn’t really care. He said it regardless and that made a smile carve its way onto your face. An annoyed scoff is heard from above and you see a hand come into view to snatch the menus away from Frank. He never looked away from you once.

The moment the food arrives, you’re excitedly grabbing your sandwich and lifting it to your mouth. As your teeth sink into the toasted bread, the flavor hits your tongue and a satisfied moan escapes you. Frank is quick to lift his eyes at the sound, his eyebrows raising as he takes in the scene in front of him. You raise your hand to your mouth and begin to grow bashful at the look on his face.

“Sorry!” You apologize, your voice muffled behind your palm. “It was just really good,” you explain once you swallow your food down.

“Don’t gotta apologize for that, kid,” he replies through his own raspy chuckle. You bite your lip and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before reaching for the fries in your basket next.

The two of you dig into your identical meals and make some easy conversation in between bites here and there. You’re honestly impressed with how good the sandwich is and you’re glad you picked it out of the infinite number of items on the menu. Frank wasn’t lying when he said he loved this place. You watch him look up from his meal every now and then with a big smile on his face as he moves his head to the beat of the music. His energy was infectious and you found yourself tapping your toes along too. 

“Y’know,” he speaks up after finishing the last bite of his sandwich. At the sound of his voice, you begin to look up to his face, but your eyes latch on to something else. Frank sucks his fingers clean of the salt from his fries, his lips pursing as his cheeks hollow, and you immediately lose any grip you had on controlling your thoughts around him.

“When we ordered I saw your beer on the menu.” You hear his words but they have absolutely no meaning, no way of stringing them together to make a continuous thought as you watch him suck the seasonings from his thumb. You begin to feel a sense of injustice at the fact that those fingers weren’t where you desperately wanted them to be. With a pout, you look back to his gaze and see the confusion clear in his eyes.

“What?” you blurt out, finally remembering he had spoken and that you hadn’t processed anything he had said. He scoffs before shaking his head, his smirk spreading wide across his face before he speaks again.

“Said they have the beer you like here,” he repeats himself, his cocky grin a clear indicator that he saw how you froze up at sight just moments ago.

“I’m actually good tonight,” you say confidently. Reaching for your glass, you take a sip of your drink and hold his gaze as you stare at him from under your eyelashes. He sits back against the cushion of the booth and his eyebrows pull together as he thinks about what you said.

“Yeah?” he asks, squinting his eyes at you.

“Mhm, not letting a few beers stop me from what I wanna do after this,” you explain. You’ve never felt more frustrated than when he stopped you from kissing on his neck. You understood why he did it, and are actually very thankful he didn’t want it to go further, but the disappointment coursed through you all the same.

“Hmm? And what exactly is that?” he questions as the band finishes up the song they had been playing. Your eyes follow the noise as the crowd erupts into whistles and claps, applauding the musicians. When you finally look back over, Frank’s in the same position. It’s like he never looked away from you—hell, you’re not sure if he even blinked.

You don’t answer him though and make up your mind to keep him on the edge of his seat. Instead, you smile sweetly before picking up a fry from your basket and popping it past your lips. 

He gives you a knowing look, but doesn’t pry. Perhaps he was looking forward to the surprise of it all. You only hope you can remain as confident as you feel now so you can properly act out your plan. Before long, he swallows down his last french fry and Frank speaks up with a question.

“You wanna go dance?” Your whole body freezes at the mere thought of attempting to dance, not to mention the added nerves of doing it in a crowded room with Frank Castle standing witness. But as you look out onto the dance floor full of moving bodies, you realize most of them are probably far too intoxicated to really pay attention to you. Deciding to push past the initial fear, and wanting to be fully present with him and have fun, you nod and scoot out of the booth.

Frank stands in front of you and his hand soon comes into view of your eyeline. You place your hand in his and feel his fingers curl around your palm as you brace your weight on him and rise to your feet. You stand on your toes and motion for him to come closer so you can speak into his ear.

“Just so you know, I’m a terrible dancer,” you say after he’s tilted his head towards you.

“What part of me screams that I’m a good one?” he asks, and you chuckle at his joke. He smiles down at your laughter and nods his head behind him, letting you know he’s going to the dancefloor.

Frank keeps a hold of your hand as he leads you through the crowd. His broad body splits the sea of bodies as he walks and you follow close enough behind him to squeeze past them as well. There’s blue hues from the dim lights that shine over the people, but other than that you can’t see much beside their moving feet. He must’ve gotten to a clearing where there’s not as many people bumping into one another, because he stops walking and turns to you.

You’re sort of frozen still for a moment as the reality of it is beginning to creep in. But then Frank starts to shimmy his shoulders and you can’t help but break into a wide grin. Just like that, you’re thawed. The awkwardness you felt is starting to leave you as you begin to loosen up in front of him.

The band plays a fun, upbeat song that you don’t recognize, but he seems to be making the moves up as he goes along. You follow his direction, copying him but still keep some distance, trying to slowly shake off those nerves that are still lingering around. Suddenly, Frank does a move that you can’t even begin to describe with words alone and you burst into laughter as you watch him. Holding your stomach, you shake your head at him and he begins to laugh too. 

The band then retires from the stage, saying their farewells as the crowd applauds and whistles. Frank claps along with the rest of them and you cup your hands around your mouth to give a small cheer. You really enjoyed their set and wouldn’t mind coming back here again to watch them play once more.

Once the stage is clear, music begins to play over the speakers and Frank’s face lights up. His excitement is clear after just the first few notes.

“God, this takes me back,” his wide grin causes his eyes to squint up. You smile up at him, happy at his enjoyment, but you can’t help your head from tilting to the side confusedly.

“You haven’t heard this before?” he asks incredulously and you shake your head. “It’s literally my favorite song, how do you not know this?”

“When did it come out?” you ask, and watch him look up as he starts to think.

“Must’ve been… right after graduation, I think?” He does the math for a moment longer before answering with the year it was released. The answer has you fighting back a giggle as you stare at him awkwardly.

“Frank, I wasn’t born until two years later,” you answer honestly, and the look on his face is priceless.

“Jesus Christ…” he replies, dragging his hand down his face. You begin to worry now, wondering if you shouldn’t have brought up that point. He must’ve caught a glance at your anxious frown because he’s quick to explain himself.

“You’re fine just… my back hurt when you said that.” His hand comes to the back of his neck to emphasize his point and your smile finds its way back to your lips.

Despite the initial embarrassment you ran into after being reminded again of the gap in age between you and Frank, you found yourself really enjoying the song. He was honest when he said it was one of his favorites. You’ve never seen him this lively before and you love being able to soak up every minute of it. He’s so animated as he dances, holding you close to him with his hand secured at your back. The lines to the song fall past his lips like muscle memory as his forehead presses to yours.

You can’t stand being this close to him. Your whole body feels like it’s been shot with a current of electricity and you’re desperately wanting him to stop singing and put his mouth to yours. He might have a sixth sense—or simply just picked up on the timing—because his lips are on yours a second later. He kisses you deeply, his tongue brushing your lower lip for a moment before you eagerly let him in. Your head tilts to the side as you kiss him back and your arm wraps around his wide shoulders to ensure you’ll have your fill.

All too soon he’s breaking the kiss and you immediately suck your bottom lip behind your teeth to savor the feeling of him. He suddenly lifts his arm into the air and cues you to spin. You twirl under his hand with a huge grin and then he yanks you in for the finish, timing it so that your back is to his chest when you land against him. His same palm immediately finds your hip and tightens to keep you flush to him. His opposite hand travels down the length of your torso, his index finger tracing your side as he moves.

He begins to whisper the lyrics against your ear and you can’t bring yourself to focus on their meaning. He’s all over you and it’s making you feel dizzy, as if you’re drunk on his scent alone. Each pass of his finger along your ribs alights a fire at your side and you try to keep up as he begins rocking you from side to side to the rhythm of the song. His breath warms the entire side of your face and neck with each word he whispers. You fall under his spell and roll your head to the side at the feeling of his warmth all over.

When the song starts to fade and a new one begins overlapping it, you’re left with a bittersweet feeling; part of you never wanted to leave that moment and would gladly listen to that song on loop for the rest of your life, but the other half of you was almost frightened at how easily you turned to putty in his hands. You felt the need to have a better grasp on yourself, especially if you wanted to stay courageous for what you had planned for tonight.

The mix of two songs smoothen down into one and you instantly recognize the slow, sexy bassline that’s pumping through the speakers overhead. You’re not sure what came over you. Perhaps you wanted to prove to someone that you’re not that same timid, little girl. Whatever it was that coursed through your veins, you’re thankful that it gave you the strength to grab his large palm and put it back into place at your hip. You use the extra support to push your ass back into him, making sure to press hard enough until you feel the bulge in his jeans.

Frank doesn’t show any reaction except for his fingers tightening into your skin as if you were a lifeline. You smile as you continue to grind into him, your hips following the similar movements he taught you just a few days prior. Facing away from him gives you the extra boost of confidence needed to perform this act, but you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t kill to see the look on his face right now.

With each push of your ass against the denim fabric, you feel the heat of his bulge so close to where your own warmth had started to pool. This felt good and you felt pride surging through your chest once you realized exactly what you were doing.

And then his arm crosses your chest and pulls you flat against him once more. His forearm is pressed against your collarbones and you feel your breath hitch at the hold he has you in. With a shaky inhale, you swallow down the lump in your throat and wait for him to speak.

“Look at you, sweetheart,” the tip of his nose brushes the curve of your ear and you try your damndest to not let your body double over. “Someone’s getting confident, huh?” His arm begins to slowly drop from across your chest, and instead reaches your lower stomach. From there, he applies pressure until you’re as close as you could be to him.

“You feel that? Hmm?” There’s an undeniable hardness under the thick layers of fabric. It doesn't feel as big as the last time he got turned on from you, but it’s still noticeable. “That’s all you,” he finishes with a lower tone of voice before taking half a step back and leaving you to sit with his words.

It takes you a moment to wrap your head around this entire situation. It’s abundantly clear that the mood has changed from light laughter and awful dance moves to something more sultry. You can feel the warmth slowly spreading between your legs and it leaves you with a buzz that makes you feel like your movements are slowed. When you turn around to finally face him, he’s already staring down at you expectedly.

“Why don’t we get outta here?” he asks, deep voice blending in with the booming bass. You nod at him and it feels like you’re moving in molasses. The dull, blue light from above catches his face for a moment. There’s something deeper to his unreadable expression; his jaw is clenched as if he’s trying to hold something back.

Once the two of you make it back to the table, Frank reaches into his back pocket for his wallet. He thumbs through the notes before tossing a few bills onto the table. He reaches into the booth seat for his jacket and shakes it out before draping it over your shoulders.

“Thank you,” you mumble in a quiet voice.

“Don’t gotta thank me for that, sweetheart,” he shakes his head, insisting that your gratitude isn’t needed. He begins to walk towards the door with his hand in its designated spot at your lower back to help guide you once again. The chill of the night air hits you the second you step out of the building and you find yourself curling his jacket snugger around your body. His scent is stuck to the collar and it helps lessen your shivering from the cold breeze.

He walks you to your side of the van and opens the door for you to climb in. Even after he gets in and begins driving down the same winding roads, there’s not much conversation between the two of you. The tension in the car is thick and incredibly palpable. You’re indecisive about whether to break the silence or leave it untouched so as to not make it worse.

Eventually Frank pulls into his parking spot that faces the front door of his apartment. After putting the van in park and walking around to open your door once more, you take his hand and carefully step down. He unlocks the door and gets you inside quickly, trying to shield you from the chilly air. Once he flicks the lights on, you’re greeted by the familiar sight of his living room and feel that desire to touch him creep back in. Your name falls from his lips and you turn your head at the sound.

“I’m sorry if I went too far back there. I shouldn’t have—,” he begins to apologize, but you’re quick to interrupt by pressing your lips to his. A surprised grunt comes from him and you smirk into the kiss, pleased to have caught him off guard. He wastes no time in wrapping his arms around you and begins leading you towards the couch. When you feel the back of your knees hit the curve of the cushion, you angle yourself in front of Frank and push him into the sofa below.

He looks up at you with his lips parted and his chest is noticeably bringing in deeper breaths each time he inhales. His usually soft, brown eyes have a darkened glint to them and you��re certain you’ve never seen this emotion on him before. Your pulse is racing through your own body and you swiftly straddle him with your knees on either side of his hips.

His impatient fingers grab hold of you in a way no one ever has before. The action causes a surprised gasp to fall past your lips, but it’s swallowed down by Frank who can’t seem to keep his mouth off of yours. The light stubble decorating his jaw scratches at your skin and the rough feeling does nothing but spur you on further. You begin to roll your hips into his as you fall into a familiar pattern and he uses his hold to help guide you into moving faster.

His movements are rushed and needy and it makes you feel reassured that he wants this—he wants you. That little boost to your ego has your hands tracing down his body, your palms rubbing down his strong chest, before finally reaching his belt. Your fingers search blindly for the leather and the sound of the buckle clinking sounds out in between the wet noises of your kisses.

“Woah, easy,” Frank breaks the kiss the second the sound reaches his ears. “Let’s just, uh…” he trails off and you feel his fingers gently prying yours away. “Let’s take it slow, alright?” His tone is so soft and the concern is written clearly across his features.

“Frank, please,” you try to reason with him. “I didn’t even drink tonight! And I just… last time I was all worked up and I really want to do this.” You finish with a pout as you glance up at him with pleading eyes. He swallows hard as he stares at you for a moment, probably battling something internally.

“What do you wanna do?” he asks slowly, trying to make his words clear. The question is so simple but admitting it to him makes you feel small again.

“I… I want to touch you,” you mumble, silently hoping he doesn’t ask you to be more explicit than that.

“You sure you want this?” His eyes never leave yours as he confirms your consent.

“I really do,” you reply, bringing your hand up and cupping his cheek. You brush your thumb over his skin and watch as he begins to shut his eyes and breathe deeply. “Please?”

You’re not sure if it’s the quiet plea, his own craving that’s swaying his decision, or some combination of the two, but he slowly uncurls his fingers from your wrist. You beam brightly at him and whisper a thanks as you peck him on the cheek.

“You’re still gonna have to walk me through it, Frank,” you say through a small chuckle.

He nods with an equally quiet, “I know.”

From there, he doesn’t try to deter your movements any longer. He lets you continue as you slide his belt past the metal buckle. You look up at him for reassurance and he nods his head with a smile. He takes your hand in his and pulls it to his bulge, letting you feel it properly for the first time. Excitement races through you and settles in your lower stomach as you watch your hand touch him over the denim.

“Can I take your jeans off?” Your question is met with another nod as he lets go of you. Slipping the button past the slit, you then lower the zipper past the teeth and the sound feels so loud in the otherwise silent room. You move to sit beside him and Frank helps you tug his pants down, raising his hips to lower them some more until they fall past his knees. He’s wearing a pair of dark grey boxer briefs and your eyes linger far too long on how they hug his thighs.

The thick outline stretching the fabric is enough to recenter your attention though. You start to feel the nerves coming back once you register just how big he is as he lies against his hip. You always had a feeling, given the sheer size of the man, but seeing it is a whole other experience. Thankfully, Frank doesn’t rush you as he lets you take this all in. You hesitantly move your hand over the length of him, brushing your fingers over the defined line underneath the head of his cock.

The next thing you reach for is the waistband of his boxers. You curl your fingers over the edge and tug them down, watching as more and more of his happy trail becomes exposed. He once again helps you pull them past his legs and now that he’s bare in front of you, you can’t help your eyes from widening. You had thought the bulge was big, but it was misleading; Frank is actually much larger than you had anticipated.

“What? You’ve never seen—?” He starts but you’re quick to cut him off.

“I have. I’ve seen, like, porn before but…” you find your voice leaving you as you stare between his legs. “It’s just bigger in person.” His chuckle sounds out and you raise your head to the noise only to be met by an amused smirk at your confession.

“S’not just cause it’s in person, kid,” he laughs through his words and you roll your eyes at his cockiness. You like that you can still crack jokes during a time like this and you find yourself thankful that you get to have Frank as your first introduction to sex. Feeling more relaxed, you reach forward and gently curl your fingers around his thick base.

“You can hold it tighter than that,” he speaks up after a second.

“I know,” you respond, tightening your hold on him a little more. He snorts lightly at the, apparently, subtle increase in pressure and you feel his larger hand curling around your own. His long fingers squeeze over yours, adjusting your grip on his length as he begins to move your hand up and down. He’s warm and heavy in your hand, two things you hadn’t given much thought of before now. Frank lifts your hand once more and a satisfied sigh leaves him.

The sound stirs something in your stomach and you try to swallow down your own growing arousal at the noise he’s making. He loosens his hold on you and you watch as his hands find the hem of his shirt before bunching it up and exposing the lower half of his stomach. There’s so much to look at and it’s pulling your attention in too many ways. You try to focus on him in your hand though and begin speeding up your movements.

“You can spit on it,” he speaks up after a few seconds. You turn to face him and feel your eyebrows pull together at his words.

“Like just… spit on it?” The confusion is more than likely obvious in your tone but you want to ensure that you don’t embarrass yourself with him. Not now when you’ve made it this far.

“Yeah, go for it,” he encourages gently. With one last glance at him, you lean forward and lower your head over his length. You purse your lips and part them as you let the split slowly drip until it’s sliding over his head. You watch as it runs down past the tip and Frank clears his throat.

“Shit, yeah that…” he trails off as he raises his hips slightly. “That works too.” You smile at his words and wonder if his movement was an instinctual reaction to the warmth running along the smooth skin of his cock.

With the help of the extra slick added to his length, you begin to work your hand faster on him. You know from what you’ve heard that the tip is more sensitive, so you raise your hand right underneath his head and tighten your grip. A grunt immediately falls from him and you impulsively let go of him. You face him with a worried expression and watch as he brings in a deep breath before swallowing thickly.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Just felt real damn good.” The praise in his words immediately rushes to your heart and you feel yourself swell with pride. You can’t believe you made him feel that good, but now you’re determined to see what other sounds you can pull from his pretty lips. As you focus your attention back to his cock, you see a few beads of precum beginning to bubble up at his swollen tip. You rub your thumb in circles over the slit, spreading around the proof of his pleasure, and you feel him twitch in your hold.

“Shiiiiiit,” the drawn out curse sounds raspy and you don’t stop your movements as you check once again to see his reaction. Frank’s head is tilted back slightly against the couch cushion, his mouth is parted, and his eyes are scrunched up slightly. You try your hardest to memorize this version of him. You wish you could ingrain this memory so you’ll never forget how good he looks when he’s succumbing to his pleasure.

Twisting your hand as you move it over his length, you notice the way his adam's apple bobs as he swallows down presumably another groan. You can’t resist the urge to feel even more of him, and press your lips against his neck. Lazy kisses are littered across his skin while you work your hand faster, intermittently tightening your hold on his thickness. His throat tightens as he feels the wet marks of your affection, and the next thing you feel is his fingers tangling in your hair. He pulls gently as he tugs your head up to his and he kisses down your surprised gasp, his tongue slipping into your mouth.

You’re having trouble keeping up with his movements and you realize this must be what it’s like to be kissed breathlessly. Any moment you get, you’re greedily gulping down air before he continues his ravenous attack on your lips. You never slow the speed of your hand and press yourself against his side, trying to feel more of him to satiate your need. Frank tries to break the kiss but you push against him harder, not wanting to let go for a second. But he tries again, grabbing your wrist gently and you immediately pull away with a frown.

“What did I do?” you ask in a worried tone. He’s quick to lock his eyes with yours and speaks clearly.

“You’re okay. You’re doing so good, sweetheart,” he starts, and then nods down towards his lap. “I’m almost there, kid. Just wanted to warn you before it happens.” And just like that, a wide grin splits across your face. I’m making him feel that good?!

“I really wanna make you come, Frank,” you tell him honestly and you notice his cock twitch slightly as he registers your words.

“You keep talking like that and you will,” he grumbles in a low voice. His tone almost seems as if it was meant as a warning, but all it does is add to the fire in the pit of your stomach. You’re quick to reach for him again and fall back into the rhythm you established just seconds ago. With each pass of your hand you feel the veins protruding slightly through his skin and make sure to add slightly more pressure to the ring underneath his tip—he seemed to like that in particular.

“Just like that—fuck, attagirl,” he breathes through gritted teeth while he stares down at your smaller fingers wrapped snugly around him. The praise courses through you and you hide your face in his neck. You place sloppy kisses under his jaw and listen as more grunts start to fall from his parted lips. They slowly twist into a new sound and it takes you a second to realize it’s your name that’s coming out in a twisted groan. You glance down and watch as he raises his hips for a moment to chase after the feeling of you, his orgasm following soon after.

One long moan falls from him as warmth spills over your hands. You make sure not to miss a single second and don’t dare slow down or pull away. You want Frank to feel as good as possible and so you’ll drag this out for as long as you can. White begins to coat his head and the rest of his length as you continue moving over him. It isn’t until he reaches for your wrist that you take notice of the way his thigh is tense and you let go to give him some relief.

“T…That’s enough,” he pants as he speaks through uneven breathing. You mumble an apology as you snuggle into his side again, leaving the remainder of your kisses on his collarbone. His hand rubs at your back while he regains his breath and you feel him press his lips to your forehead. 

“Jesus Christ,” he whispers, and you follow his gaze to the mess in his lap. His cock lies on his hip, all spent and giving a weak twitch once or twice. You don’t even try to hide the smile that grows on your face at the sight.

“Oh, you proud of yourself, huh?” he asks through a fit of chuckles. “You should be,” he holds you to his side again. “Did so fuckin’ good.” You feel another long kiss to the side of your head. Pride isn’t even a strong enough word to describe how you feel at this moment.

“Thank you, Frank,” you smile up at him.

“Thank me? Nah, you did all that,” he brushes it off just like last time. “Thank you for making me feel good, kid. You were absolutely perfect.” The warmth spreading to your cheeks makes you hide your face in his chest again. You weren’t really sure how a scene like this was supposed to normally end, but Frank doesn’t say anything more. He keeps you close in his arms and you can still hear his pulse attempting to slow in his chest. For now, you don’t want to question what comes next; for once, you’re comfortable exactly where you are.

Taglist: @chellestrash @avengerstower-houseplant @musicals-and-mermaids @castle-of-ruin @justalittlepickle @boo8008 @doublevirgogirl @xxdrixx @yaminax @nabiiturner @imwaytoolazyforthis @vechkinfan @himesuedi @0-goblin-0 @soleilcastle @innebulae @punishersmainchick @eddiemunsonsbelover @tea-drinking-nerd

[like-what-the-fuck-scoob]

🌸 could you maybe do a Bucky x reader in which reader clumsily hurts themself (tripping up the stairs, burning themself on a hot pan, nicking themself while shaving, hitting their head on a cabinet they didn’t know was open) and Bucky going absolutely mother hen insisting he takes care of her, basically going complete nurse mode with a first aid kit? Kind of “I can take care of myself” and “shut up and hold still” vibes?😅😂🥰

Bucky x Clumsy!Reader - Headcanons ❤️

Content Warnings - Mentions of head bumps, cuts/wounds, burns, shaving, general clumsy behaviour.

**********

- Bucky can't help but giggle everytime you hurt yourself. He finds it an endearing quirk of yours, and cannot count the amount of times you've been clumsy throughout your relationship. Though, amongst his amusement, he never fails to care for you with the upmost of sincerity.

- Reaching to the top shelf of the cupboard, it was almost predictable that something would fall, likely on top of your head with a bonk. Familiar with your sharp squeal, Bucky would chuckle, whilst nonetheless placing a comforting kiss on your bruised forehead.

- You'd definitely burned yourself more than once, whether it be on the pan, the kettle, or even your hair straighteners. Hearing a splash of oil following by a high screech, the brunette would be up from the table in a flash, by your side with yet another smirk and a chuckle. "Sit down, Doll. I'll carry on." Grabbing a bandaid from the box, he shushed you as you protested, his firm grasp ensuring your wound was covered and cared for. "Nu-uh. Sit. I don't wanna hear it." His voice still light hearted, there was a genuine sternesss to his words, the soldier intent on having you rest.

- Walking into your shared bedroom, Bucky flinched at the sight of the blood tricking down from your inner thigh. "Oh Doll. You shaved again?" He would ask in amusement, already familiar with this exact circumstance. Fetching a damp cloth, the avenger would tend to the cut gently, swatting your hand away as you attempted to take over. "Hold still, i've got you." Kissing the dry wound, he would gaze up at you with adoring eyes, truthfully enjoying every second of such tender love.

- Intent on being your fierce protector, nearly every item in the house had been threatened by your boyfriend. The first time you hit your head on a cabinet door, the soldier vowed to 'give that piece of wood a taste of its own medicine', because 'nobody hurts his babydoll and gets away with it.'

- Accepting your clumsy nature was part and parcel of Bucky's relationship with you; that was clear from early on, the brunette unable to forget when you tripped up the stairs on your first date. But, admittedly, he would never have it any other way. He was happy, more like honoured, to tend to those needs. After so many regrets in his life, these moments of care were somewhat validating; a chance for the repenting soldier to finally help, to finally do good. ❤️

[judeloverr]

not without you- trent alexander arnold

summary: not being able to sleep your boyfriend persists on helping you out

pairings: trent alexander arnold x reader word count: 1.7k

an: not sure how i feel about this, kinda hate it

the light snoring of your boyfriend directly against your ear who lay beside you was one of the many things that kept you awake on this saturday early morning, grazing your freshly done nails along trent arms which was lay across your stomach you turned your head to your bed side table alarm clock.

3:38

you go back to staring up at the ceiling attempting to fall asleep by counting the imaginary sheep in your head. you feel trents arms tighten around you and his face nuzzle more into your neck even though there wasn’t any more room, since yesterday afternoon he had been clinging to you like a koala bear, no reason whatsoever. you thought maybe because he was going away for 2 days for an important match you weren’t complaining of course the extra affection of your boyfriend always made you happy, just thinking about it made you want to sleep and cuddle up next to him but you simply just couldn’t. you stare up at the ceiling taking a deep breath in and exhaling quietly, envying trent at the moment.

you carefully remove trents arm from around your waist, placing it down on the bed, while you shift yourself from under him and get out of the bed trent makes a weird sound and turns to be on his side on the bed where he never normally sleeps. you place your bare feet on the cold ground, shivers travelling up your body, and move towards the kitchen.

the light from the kitchen makes you squint slightly not used to the bright light due to lying in the dark for the past 3 hours. dragging your feet across the floor, making your way towards the cupboard. you grab a glass and fill it up with cold water and instantly drinking all of it, after wiping your mouth with the back of your hand the feeling of warm hands on the side of your thighs make you jump out of your skin, gasping sharply and bringing your hand to your heart you feel trent place his head in between your neck and shoulder blades. his hands rub against your skin and move up your body and underneath your shirt which was paired with a pair of panties. you feel his arms wrap around your waist and squeeze softly.

not saying anything you lean against his chest, feeling a hoodie he must have put on instead of his bare chest which he went to bed with. “why aren’t you in bed?” trent asked quietly due to being muffled by your neck. you place your hands on his, rubbing his skin with the pan of your fingers. “hm?” he lifts his head and turn to look at the side of your face. you turn your head to look at his seeing his eyes still puffy from sleep and the hood of his hoodie pulled over his head. 

“can’t sleep, its fine don’t worry about me” you reply lifting your hand up and trace his lips with the pad on your thumb while your other hand holds his, still clutching onto you. you lean closer to him, placing a light kiss on his lips, his lips soft pulling away to nudge your nose against his lovingly then turning to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck and allowing trents hands to go on your lower back and underneath your shirt tracing shapes along your skin.

trent leans in this time a gives you a light kiss then trailing another one across your check before pulling away and looking into your eyes again. “no until you do, not without you” 

you sigh in frustration and look at him pleading with your eyes, you scratch his neck lightly “you have a match and you are going away, you need all the sleep trent” you can see him going all sleepy just by the scratch of his neck, trent leans forward placing his forehead on your shoulder. 

“yeah” he pauses “with you in the bed” he murmurs.

“how do you sleep when im not there then?” he lifts his head from your shoulder and cheekily smiles. a giddy feeling settling in your stomach.

“why do you think i always call you when i go to bed?” he states and cocks his head to the left questioning you, a grin appears on your face, hands moving to his shoulders and squeezing them slightly, relaxing him once again. 

“but why can’t you sleep?” he questions concern written over his face, he raises his eyebrows waiting for a explanation , his hands moving to your waist now.

you shrug your shoulders “don’t know”

“mh” 

“i really don’t know trent, i think work mostly, its stressing me out and just normal other things” trent nods his head not really knowing what to say, he turns to look outside to the pitch black garden, a comforting silence is created when trent doesn’t reply but is broken when his breaks into a little laugh and turns to look back at you.

“my snoring keep you awake?” you laugh a little, reaching out and rubbing his cheek softly.

“yeah always” you reply with a roll of your eyes. a silence appears again, you lean your head against his muscly chest, his hand coming up to the back of your head, holding your place there.

“you want tea?” he questions looking down at you, you shake your head. a whine comes from the back of your throat as trent steps back from your guys embrace, a bit annoyed as you were comfortable with leaning on him. he grabs your hand squeezing softly and starts to pull you away from the sink counter.

“come on, we’ll go back to bed” you try not to go with him, knowing you won’t be able to fall asleep and you will just be lying there all night while he sleeps peacefully next to you.

you groan and drag your feet while he turns off the light, rounding the corner and start to make his way up the stairs towards your bedroom. “but i wont be able too” 

trent shrugs his shoulders looking down at you a smile creeping up on his face as he watches you slowly make your way up the stairs “then well stay up and talk, you dont have work” 

“you need to though, you leaving in the morning” you stop walking up the stairs, pausing half way up and look at your boyfriend who looks like he desperately needs sleep. 

‘don’t worry about me, i can sleep on the coach” you pulls you with more force, you grumble under your breath once you make it to the top of the stairs. trent pauses at you, looking down at you raising his eyebrows once again waiting for you to start complaining.

“no trent, its not fa-“ you start but is cut off by him leaning into you and pressing his lips against yours. the sudden movement making you jump slightly “shush” he says against your lips and grabs the side of your head, tilting your head back as he moves his lips against yours slowly. he tongue traces against your bottom lip swallowing a moan that escaped your mouth. you pull away, out of breath. “trent”

“don’t worry about me” he says pressing one more kiss to your mouth. you opened your mouth to say something else. “come on, stop complaining ill get you to sleep”

you roll your eyes at his persistence and you allow him to pull you into your shared bedroom, darkness filling your eyes, you glance towards the alarm clock which you had been staring at all night now reading 4:00am which also gives a small light showing you where trent is.

“trent you have to ben awake in 4 hours’ you point to the clock. you watch as he removes his hoodie revealing his bare chest which made your head dizzy every time this man would get dressed or undressed infront of you. you watch as his arms move quickly to move the duvet and slotting himself into the bed and pulling the covers over himself. he sits up on his pillow glancing at you the patting the side of your bed indicating you to get in.

“come on then” you place one knee on the bed and start to crawl to him, a cheeky grin as his thoughts went all dirty. “last time you crawling to me we-“

“trent stop it” a giggle left his mouth as he watched you get under the covers next to him. he moves to lie on his back, grabbing your upper thigh and moving it to go over his body. moving closer to him, feeling his body heat without even touching him, you place you head on his chest and arm over his chest. a huff leaves your mouth as you feel trent hand go up and down your thigh then proceed to go to your ass and pat it lightly a couple of times.

“hands to your self arnold” you move your head closer into his chest, his heartbeat calming you slightly. he doesn’t say anything and moves his hand back to your thigh makes shapes along your skin. you feel trents breathing even out, lift your head to see his eyes closed. you roll your eyes at him and attempt to move out of his hold but as you move trents hand grips your thigh and his hand around your back pushes you back into his chest, smudging your cheek into his bare skin.

“not asleep yet baby” you hum as a reply, feeling trents fingers trace your back and press a couple of kisses to your forehead. just to try you shut your eyes, focusing on trents hand over your body, moving along your things and on your back and the way his lips pressed against your skin. the movement of his chest and heartbeat coasting through your ears brought a yawn out of your mouth.

“i love you” you heard trent say and you eventually fell into the states of tiredness which had taken you about 5 hours to get in.

“love you more”

[bittersweet-folder]

hiii, could you do the light forehead kisses with minghao or vernon? like really domestic and soft 🥺

Yess ofc love🌷[I'm so sorry for such a late response btw. Please read a/n in the end. Thank you♡]

🍪 Cookies and cream

Pairing: Vernon× gn reader[they are in an established relationship].

Genre: fluff, very domestic scenario, baking with Vernon basically.

Warnings: none. Word count:739

Note: you call Vernon by his first name Hansol. Also idk why I kept that title but okay 💀 .

"Nooo, you're supposed to coat them in flour, Hansol" you exclaimed as you saw him directly adding the blue berries in the cake batter.

"Uhh okay okay but why?" Vernon asked, nonchalantly.

"It's because of the batter. When you coat the blueberries with flour they automatically don't sink to the bottom of the baking pan." You explained while looking at him and continued "and when you add them to the batter and mix them lightly okay?"

"Yes ma'am!" he smiled. He bought extra flour in a bowl and coated the blueberries in flour. He looks very concentrated for someone who's assisting you to bake for the first time.

There wasn't really a special occasion to make Hansol some cookies and cake. In fact he loved any desserts made by you. But this time you were also going to send a batch of cookies to his family. So you asked for his help. Looking at how concentrated he is, with what you've instructed him to do made you happy. You took a glance at the clock. It was almost the time for the cookies to be done so you slid the cooking glove on to your hand and took them out of the oven. The delicious smell of chocolate and a sugary essence filled the kitchen. You set the pan on the table for the cookies to cool down. Hansol automatically left what he was doing and waddled back to you and hugged you from the back, settling his chin on your shoulder.

"Can I take some break please babe?" he murmured. His focus was still on the cookies.

"Hansol, honey I know your tricks. Just say that you want some cookies right now" you said nonchalantly as you pressed in the center of the cookies lightly. Nice and fully baked. You picked up the big ones.

"Wow, am I that obvious?" he questioned, his lips now pressed in a thin line,blinking at you as if in disbelief. You placed the big cookies on a plate.

"Yes and here's your cookies, the big ones because I knew you'd want some" you handed him the plate with a smile on your lips.

"Thank you babe" he said as he flashed his toothy smile at you.

"Mention not honey" you said.

Then you started searching for the jar in which you were supposed to store the cookies in.

"Hold on, where's the jar" you thought while going through the lower cupboards. After a little bit of searching you found it in the upper shelves. "This must be his doings" you thought as you sighed outta annoyance but then you saw two hands on either side trapping you to the kitchen counter. You turned around, the jar still in your hands and looked at Hansol. Your eyes meet his.

"I've put the blueberry batter in a different baking tray and put it in the oven, darling. The choco chip cookies were delicious" he said and smiled softly. You couldn't help but feel the blood rushing to your cheeks because of the pet name he just called you.

"Okay then what about my kisses?" you mumbled with a pout, your eyes looking down at the jar, breaking eye contact. It was silly how you wanted some kisses in the middle of all this mess in the kitchen but at the same time it still made sense why. He cradles your face with his hands, making you look at him. He can now take a good look at your blushy face. He slowly leaned in and placed his soft lips on your lips. A soft and warm kiss with a slight lingering essence of cookies on his lips. After breaking off from the kiss he pressed soft kisses on your forehead. It made your heart swell with a mushy feeling. He did take another look at your flushed face before removing his hands from your cheeks.

"Vernon quit staring like that" you whined and continued "and move aside babe, gonna store the cookies in this jar" you walked past him.

He followed you for a few steps and then said "by the way love it would be great if I can get another-" before he could finish the sentence you cut in stating "noo you're not getting any more cookies Vernon" you chuckled knowing the fact that you will end up giving him one more cookie while storing the cookies in jar.

A/n: yes I love baking so I was like why not write about this, baking with Vernon so yeah. I did proofread once lemme know if there's any mistake though.

I was very much emotionally exhausted about some things going on rn so that's why requests are closed. ALSO THANK YOU FOR 500+ FOLLOWERS 😭😭.

[aesthetic-bbyg]

A LITTLE TREAT ~ Sanji

LA!Sanji x fem baker!reader

warnings: fluff, smut, oral (f!receiving)

Nattie speaks: Smash

THE TWO OF YOU CROWDED THE small kitchen with both yourselves and the large amount of utensil splayed out on the counter. You crouched under his arm as he sizzled a dish on the stove, hurryingly whisking together the mix within your bowl. You’re apron was stained with flower, egg yolk, and god knows what.

“I can tell from here that the only pretty thing is definitely you and not whatever you have going on there.” Sanji teased, eyes staring at the mixture while you rolled your eyes. Sprinkling a a generous amount of cinnamon before reaching for the molding pan.

“And I can smell that only good thing is neither you nor that food, if that’s what you dare to call it.” You replied as your lips quirked up in a smirk, pouring the contents of the bowl into the metal pan.

“My, that hurt, love.” The blonde replied, watching you concentrate your eyes on pouring the perfect amount into each paper-covered cup.

“Good.” You mumbled back, ushering him away from the stove to delicately place the pan into the preheated oven. “Maybe you’ll learn to keep that beautiful mouth shut, and find better uses for it.” You gave him a sly winked, moving past him swiftly to start up a fresh batch of frosting.

“Wouldn’t you like to know what I could do this mouth.” Sanji replied nonchalantly, acting as if his dick totally didn’t strain against his pants and a faint tint of red appeared on his face.

You threw him a sweet smile, showcasing the pearly canines while you poured milk into the bowl. You paused, looking around in a slight panic. Where the hell was the vanilla extract? You pinched yourself for forgetting it, you could’ve sworn that you had everything you need already prepped for you to use. Without a second to waste you bent down, opening the cupboard to find a mess of seasonings and ingredients mixed together. You sighed, digging through till your hands caught the dark bottle with a vanilla orchid stuck onto the label. You stood up, catching the eye of Sanji who’d gone unusually quiet, not snarky remark about you being unprepared.

That was because he’d gotten a full view of your eyes the second you bent over before him, revealing what was under that skirt of yours. He nearly burned his food if you hadn’t thrown him a look over your shoulder. After a few more flirty insults thrown at eachother, the food was done. You called Nami into the kitchen as the two of you slid the your creations in front of her. Sanji went on a rant about the meal and how the ingredients in it were like no other, compared to you cinnamon and vanilla cupcake.

The orange haired girl stared at the two plates, unimpressed, and that’s what made the competition so fun. Nami was the only person on the crew who would give a straight answer without a bias. Luffy and Usopp were far too kind to ever admit which one they liked more, constantly reassuring that both were just as delicious.

Zoro had a something against Sanji, their bickering aggressive and annoying whenever they were within the same proximity as each other. You both knew that the moss-head, as Sanji liked to say, was against anything he ever did. If there was a delicious, four course meal offered to him by Sanji, and you presented him with a burnt cheesecake, he’d chose your pastry just to spite the French man.

“Go ahead, take the first bite.” Sanji offered a fork to the girl as she took it and stabbed it into the food, swiping up into her mouth and chewing it with a straight face. She hummed softly, nodding in approval as she set the fork down, swallowing and savory the taste. Then, she picked up the warm cupcake, decorated beautifully with soft and puffy frosting with gold accents. It was fluffy, it golden brown color inviting, and the taste was just as satisfying as it’s looks. Nami licked the frosting that smudged on her lip, let out another hum with a slight smile.

“Well?” You were the first to speak up, leaning on the counter slightly with awaiting eyes. “Who’s did you like?”

“Well, for starters, Sanji’s plate was a meal, something to satisfy a hungry stomach.” Nami commented, making the blonde on your left smirk proudly. “Yours was a nice balance of sweetness and warmth, something to cure a sweet temptation.” The girl placed her hands on her lap, “I liked yours better.”

You smiled widely, bouncing up with a shout as the man next to you sighed, turning away before you could shove it in his face. Nami left the kitchen, cupcake in hand and chuckling at your childish antics. The afternoon ended in torturous teasing from your end while Sanji was left to clean up the whole kitchen, leaving you to relax, watching as he washed the variety of pans.

“Don’t use so much force, it scratches the metal.” You spoke, watching the slightly irritated man scrub away at the grease.

“I’ve work as a chore boy in one of the finest restaurants in the east blue, I know what I’m doing.” Sanji quipped back, making you roll your eyes and stand from the small stool.

“Still bitter, Sanji?” You giggled, bumping your hip into his lightly, “Don’t be such a sore loser.”

“I should’ve won.” He muttered, placing a freshly washed plate atop of the growing pile with a clank. He shut off the running water, drying his hands on a nearby rag, “You got lucky.”

“Admit it, hon, my sweet treats are the greatest things you’ve ever tasted.” You leaned against the counter, one hand firmly planted on your hip. “Or you won’t hear the end of it from me.”

Sanji glanced over his shoulder, walking over to slowly, a smirk slowly lifting onto his lips. “I’ve never even tasted you so called sweet treats, love, why would I spit out lies?” He face so close to your that his breath fanned over your features.

You hummed, feigning a sad frown. “Such a shame, don’t you wanna have a taste of what I got to offer?”

In a dizzying, swift motion, he gripped your waste, harshly planting your ass onto the wooden countertop. He sank down to his knees, creasing the fancy shoes he trudge around the kitchen in, hands teasingly rubbing up and down your thighs. He planted soft pecks from you knee, slowly rising till his lips met the bottom of your skirt. He looked up at you, you’d gone completely silent, just watching with wide eyes and heavy breaths. Without even speaking you lifted your hips, bunching up the skirt to your stomach so it revealed everything.

He squeezed the flesh on your thighs, feeling his mouth water as you leaned back, shaky hands keeping up your body up while you legs spread themselves open. Fuzzy thoughts taking over you. Sanji wanted to move slowly, he was a man of romance after all, he wanted every touch to be meaningful, but fuck, with the way your pussy was displayed, dripping in your arousal and practically inviting him in. He couldn’t hold back, his hands tightly gripped your thighs, assuring that you’d have no way to escape him, even if you were crying from the pleasure.

His tongue expertly lapped up your juices while he nose simultaneously nudge your clit, creating a pleasurable combination. Your back fell done to lay against the wood, free hands now flying to twist themselves into his blonde locks. Your hips jerked and squirmed with each flick against the sensitive pearl, legs going a bit numb from how tight he held them. There would definitely be noticeable marks after he was done, but your mind focused more on what occurred in that moment. How he tongued your cunt repeatedly, moaning softly with each tug of his hair.

Your back arch off the counter, mouth opening widely as you whimpered out, “Don’t stop, please, please.” Your eyes squeezed shut, body stilling for a moment before your hips twitched, an overwhelming feeling washing over you. The tightly wound coil snapped as soon as he began to suck on your clit. “Fuck, Sanji.” You moaned out, subconsciously pressing his face closer then it already was, riding out your high on his nose.

It was such a gut felt orgasm that tears pricked the corner of your eyes, choking back a yelp when he continued his expert tongue work. You’d felt the overstimulation kick in, hands pushing his head away as pathetic squeaks escaped your mouth. He left two more kisses right on your clit, lifting his head to reveal the absolute mess you’d made on the freshly wiped down counter and on his face. A mixture of your slick wetness and cum dripped down his chin, a cunning smirk on his lips.

He lifted you off your back by your hand, making your floppy body meet his hard chest. He lifted your head, forcing you to meet his intoxicating gaze. “I admit it.” He planted a sweet kiss on your lips, “Your sweet treat is the best I’ve ever had, love.”

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

This man is every possible green flag imaginable. I must have him.

Literally me and Sanji (real, not clickbait, not edited)

[corrodedcoffins-blog]

Surprise

luke hughes x actress!reader

note: love them and this request 🩷

warnings: eating, food, calling kraft dinner bad even though i eat it like once a week

word count: 840

Y/n was so excited to see Luke, they haven’t been together in person for around a month because Y/n was busy in LA filming the next season of the Evelyn Hugo series. And now that that was done filming she quickly got on the next plane to New Jersey to see the boy. She purposely told him she would be there a day later than she actually was because she wanted to surprise him.

Just now she was in the elevator of the building, Jack had told her the code to get into the apartment building so as to not alert Luke of the surprise, when she got a call from the very boy she was going to see. Fishing the phone out of her pocket and glancing at the caller ID brought a soft smile to her face, “Hey, baby.” “Hey” 

She heard the sound of pots and pans crashing together in the background of the call, “What’re you doing, hun?” “I’m cooking!” “You know how to do that?” She said in a teasing voice as the elevator door opened to the boy's floor, she continued the conversation as she walked towards his door. 

“Yes! I do..” His voice slightly unsure, “Sounds like you’re having trouble.” She mumbles, now at his door trying to be quiet and waiting to knock, “Well the directions are unclear.” “Well, I’ll help you.” “How-” He was cut off by the sound of knuckles knocking against his door. He mumbled a small ‘one sec’ before making his way to answer the door which made the girl laugh.

The door opened revealing the smiling girl, and the very happily shocked boy. Almost without thinking Luke brings Y/n into a big hug, lifting her off the ground with his hand under her thighs. His forehead rested against her collarbone, as if he didn’t believe she was there, like she would slip away at any moment. After a few more moments, whispering their greetings small ‘hello’s and soft ‘i love you’s coming from both.

Luke finally let the girl slip down, her feet once again finding the floor. And as Luke goes to grab his girl’s suitcase, said girl did a once over of the apartment only to see water boiling over the pot and all over the stove, “Luke!” She rushed over to the stove a took the pot of the element and turned the heat down, “Who let you cook unsupervised?” “Jack usually does it.” 

He walked past her, giving her a kiss on the top of her head and walked down the hallway to his room where he set the girl’s bags down and came back to the kitchen to now find that Y/n had taken over the entire operation of making dinner.

“You’re not having boxed mac & cheese for dinner.” She muttered, shaking her head and placing the box back in the cupboard. Collecting a few things she sees in the cupboards and fridge to make him a good dinner. She found an onion, which she was very surprised by. It must have been the influence of Jack’s girlfriend. 

Y/n was already cutting up the onions when Luke came back into the kitchen, and ofcourse Luke came up from behind, his hands wrapped around her waist and his chin rested on her shoulder to watch her actions. He eventually asked to help so she gave him little jobs. Then they sat on the couch, Y/n between Lukes legs as they ate dinner and ended up watching ‘10 things I hate about you’ per Y/n’s request, really it was just because she loved Luke’s reaction when she wouldn’t shut up about how hot Heath Ledger is in it.

“-and he is just, like, beyond what should be humanly capable, y’know?” Grabbing his drink from the side table, Luke says, “He’s good as the joker.” This caused the girl to let out a small laugh.

After the movie the two turned on a show, and just cuddled and talked until they would hopefully fall asleep together.

“Why do all NHL players like golf?” “I don’t know.. It’s a sport to play in summer? And I guess you don’t have to think too hard, and we can just hang out and talk?” 

They were now laying across the couch, Y/n’s head on his chest, Luke’s hands running up and down the girl’s back under her shirt as ‘Bob’s burgers’ played in the background. She drew small doodles on his bicep, as they both lolled each other to sleep as they talked. 

“That makes more sense than what I thought.” “What did you think?” “I thought it was because it’s the same action.. Or close.” 

She didn’t expand thinking Luke understood, she assumed that was self-explanatory, but then Luke asked, “What?” “Y’know, like, shooting a puck and hitting a golf ball is the same action in the hips.” “Okay.” Luke said, softly chuckling as he brought one hand to the girl’s hair, giving her head scratches and twirling the strands between his fingers. 

~taglist~

@bunbunbl0gs @daisysthings

[thelikesofus]

starting our forever, baby

9-1-1 on ABC | Buddie | 2.1k words | s7 spec, prev bucktommy, getting together, love confessions, love is stored in the kitchen

Eddie wakes up to a surprise visit from Buck and they finally talk about forever.

Read on AO3

Eddie wakes up to the sound of pans clanging in the kitchen and the smell of pancake batter and hot butter. Neither of these things is cause for alarm nor out of the ordinary but he is ninety-eight percent certain he went to sleep in an empty house. 

He rolls out of bed, shrugging on a sweatshirt and grabbing a pair of soft socks out of his drawer on the way past and to no surprise finds Buck in the kitchen.

“Hey! Eddie,” Buck smiles brightly at him as Eddie cautiously perches himself on a kitchen stool. “Good morning.”

Buck is bathed in sunlight from the kitchen window behind him, a halo of gold filtering through his soft curls, gel-free and touseled on the top of Buck’s head in a way that Eddie wishes he would let them be more often. “Morning, Buck. You’re here early.”

Buck bustles around the kitchen, pulling milk out of the fridge and grabbing a mug from the top cupboard, his body moving around Eddie’s kitchen as if it has been programmed with an innate sense of where to find anything and everything. He could be convinced that Buck knows his way around Eddie’s kitchen better than Eddie does. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m sorry. It’s just–it’s been a while, yeah? And I feel like I haven’t seen Chris in ages–I miss the kid–and I figured he was probably, if not missing me, at least missing my pancakes. I hope he hasn’t been letting you make them.”

Buck pours coffee from the pot into the mug, tops it off with the precise amount of milk that Eddie prefers, and sets it in front of Eddie before turning to the frying pan and flipping the pancake. “I know you’ve been improving in the cooking department–I can see it, Eddie, and I’m proud of you,” Eddie’s heart squeezes in his chest. “But pancakes are my department.”

“I wouldn’t want to steal your thunder.” Eddie quips and Buck whips around to wave the spatula at him.

“Exactly!”

“Buck,” Eddie presses carefully because there’s a frantic energy fizzing beneath Buck’s skin, he can see it in the way he moves, the line of his shoulders, and the exaggerated way he swings his arms. “Christopher isn’t here. He’s on school camp until Friday.”

“Oh, right, I knew that.” Buck’s whole body joints to a stop like a record skipping on a turntable and then just as soon he’s back in motion again. “That’s okay! I brought lemon juice for on your pancakes, we can save the bacon for the weekend when he gets back.”

Eddie’s heart grows three sizes in his chest, threatening to burst out all over his kitchen and cover Buck and the bench top in a flood of emotions he’s spent the last month and a half trying to fold smaller and smaller until he can safely tuck them away beneath his ribs where it can’t hurt anyone but himself. 

“Buck?” The other man glances at him before turning back to the stove, giving a soft hum in response. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” Buck grins at him again but it doesn’t reach his eyes this time. 

“You’re buzzing, and not the good kind.” Eddie stands and rounds the counter, he leans against the other side while still giving Buck as much space as he needs. He presses again, softer this time. “Buck? What’s going on?”

Buck deflates and turns the stove off, removing the pan from the element and leaning against the other counter opposite Eddie. “Tommy and I broke up. I broke up with him, or we broke up with each other, I guess.” 

Eddie isn’t sure what to say. As far as he knew Buck and Tommy’s relationship had been going smoothly. They were a good fit, even Eddie could tell, as much as it sometimes pained him to admit. But he was happy for them. Seeing them dance together at Maddie and Chimney’s wedding had filled Eddie with a sense of pride even when it also left him feeling like he was walking with a permanent rock in his shoe—a phenomenon he could finally put a name to after a few long talks with Frank and an enlightening if not nervewracking night at a bar called the Peacock that Hen had suggested he visit for ‘research purposes’. 

“I thought you really liked Tommy?” Is what he finally manages to say once he unsticks his tongue from the roof of his mouth.

“I do,” Buck says. His arms are still full of static as he gestures with his hands in that way that Buck does when he’s nervous or overwhelmed and he’s not looking Eddie in the eyes. Buck shakes his head. “I did. I did, and Tommy is wonderful but I think we both realized that it wasn’t going to last. He got offered a job, down in Mexico.” Buck pushes away from the bench, pulls two plates out of the drawer, and starts dividing the stack of pancakes between them.

“After the whole fiasco with the cruise ship, the LAFD decided they wanted someone on the ground down there as a sort of link between the Los Angeles rescue helicopters and the team down in Mexico City. They’re going to put him in charge of his own team and he’s been working towards some sort of promotion for ages so he’s really excited about it.”

“He didn’t ask you to go with him did he?” Eddie can’t help but let the question burst out of him. The thought of Buck leaving already feels like tearing out a lung but he also knows he’s in no position to ask Buck to stay, certainly not for Eddie’s sake. 

“He did, sort of.” Buck shrugs. “I think he already knew I wouldn’t say yes. L.A. is my home, I couldn’t leave the 118, I couldn’t leave Maddie and Jee-yun. Christopher, the thought of being anywhere that kid isn’t is just—and I know he’s not—but I still couldn’t. I won’t. Tommy knows that. He also knew that I wouldn’t leave you.”

“Me?” Now Eddie has to swallow down a lump of surprise. Eddie doesn't think that little of himself, he knows he’s important to Buck, they are important to each other, but important enough to be the reason Buck stays in Los Angeles while his boyfriend moves to another country?

Buck turns to place two plates, carefully stacked with fluffy, golden pancakes, each drizzled in lemon juice and sprinkled with sugar—Eddie’s favorite—on the kitchen island, and then he’s facing Eddie again only feet away in all his early morning glory and Eddie dares to hope.

“You.” Buck rests one hip against the counter and turns the full power of those bright blue eyes on Eddie as he finally makes eye contact for the first time all morning. “Yes, you, Eddie. Tommy is lovely and sweet and he has been so, so good to me for the last two months, we’ve been good for each other, I think.”

Eddie breaks the eye contact, he’s heard all about how wonderful and lovely Tommy is for the last two months and while he has been so happy for Buck, truly, it has also been agony. But then Buck is stepping up into Eddie’s space and gripping his elbow. Buck ducks his head until he can catch Eddie’s eyes again and follows his gaze until Eddie gives up on trying to hide from him. 

“But it was never going to work long-term, I don’t think it was ever meant to. He’s very sweet and we get along well but it never got any deeper than that. We made better friends than anything else.”

“Okay, so you ended it on mutual terms and he’s moving to Mexico?”

“Not for a few months but eventually he is yes.”

“A few months?”

“Next February.”

“February? Next year? Buck that ages away, why break up now if he’s not leaving until–.”

“Because it was time.”

“Time for what?”

“To stop lying to myself, to you.”

Eddie almost bites his tongue. “Lying to me? Buck, I am so confused right now. Did you hit your head? You do remember coming out to me right? You’ve been dating a man for the last two months. You brought a man to your sister’s wedding. Honestly, I am still living off of the high that I got from seeing your mother’s face when you kissed Tommy on the dance floor, that was—.”

“Eddie!” Buck laughs around his name and it’s the sweetest sound Eddie has ever heard. “Would you let me finish talking? Please?”

Eddie nods. “Right, yes. Sorry. Proceed.” He swings his arm out dramatically and Buck pinches the skin on the back of Eddie’s arm and rolls his eyes. 

“Eddie,” There’s a seriousness to Buck’s tone that Eddie doesn’t hear often. “I don’t want to presume anything okay, so if I’ve been reading this wrong then please tell me because I don’t want to make this weird, the last thing I want to do is hurt you or make you uncomfortable but—.” Eddie watches the tick in Buck's jaw tighten. “There’s something here, right? You and me?”

“Do you think there is?” Eddie whispers into the space between them, barely getting the words out past where his heart sits in his throat. 

“I dare to hope there is,” Buck whispers back. “I would like there to be. Eddie, you’re my best friend, you’ve been my rock for years and I love you more than anything but I also—I also think I might be in love with you, and I think I have been for a long time.”

“You think?”

“Like pretty God damn certain actually.” 

“Good, good.” Eddie nods, barely keeping the grin from breaking across his face. He can feel his lips twitching with the effort to suppress it. “That’s good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He steps into Buck’s space and leans forward until he can press their foreheads together. Buck’s arm slides from Eddie’s elbow to around his waist and Eddie rests his palm against Buck’s chest, sliding it up until he can wrap his fingers over the swell of Buck’s shoulder and press his thumb into that divet in Buck’s throat where Eddie can feel the heat of him and the pulse of his heartbeat beneath the pad of his thumb. “Because I am definitely in love with you.”

“You never said anything.”

“I didn’t know and then I did but you were with Tommy and you were happy. I was happy for you.”

Buck breathes deeply and Eddie reveals in the way it rushes past his cheek. “What about you?”

“I’m happy now,” Eddie says and it’s true, and realizing that only multiples the happiness tenfold. “I’m so happy I could burst.”

“Happy that I got dumped again?”

“You didn’t get dumped, you said it was mutual.” Eddie squeezes his shoulder. “But yes, happy that you might finally be mine, that I might finally get to be yours.”

Buck leans back and when Eddie opens his eyes he finds Buck’s eyes glassy and brimming with tears.

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted,” Buck says and Eddie pulls him into his arms until they are chest to chest, chins hooked over each other’s shoulders and wrapped up in each other so completely that Eddie could not tell you where one of them ends and the other begins and it feels so right, so right to have Buck so close to him, for them to be one and the same. They breathe together for a long time, squeezing each other closer whenever the micro fraction of an inch between them begins to field like football fields of distance.

“We take this slow, we do it right,” Eddie says carefully, pulling back just far enough to cup his hand around Buck’s cheek and hold his gaze. A niggly part of his brain tries to remind him of everything that could go wrong, of everything they have to lose, but a bigger part of him can only hope for everything that could go so beautifully right. 

“We have the rest of forever, after all.” Buck’s smile is soft at the edges and it smoothes the jagged parts of Eddie’s worry. 

Eddie leans up and presses one gentle kiss to the corner of Buck’s mouth, allowing himself that much for now. The rest will come, he is in no rush for the rest of his life. On Friday Christopher will be home and they can make pancakes again. At the end of the month, Buck’s lease will expire and Eddie will finally have an excuse to never let Buck leave his house again. In February they will wave Tommy off at the airport and Eddie will get the chance to thank him properly. Soon enough they might get to dance at another wedding, maybe their own, definitely together, for the rest of forever. 

“Forever and a day.” He promises.

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Price joined the army at 16 and distinguished himself as The Best of The Best, wholly committed to finessing the skills needed for his work. There is no way that man ever learned to cook beyond gutting and cooking an animal as part of his survival training. Taste doesn't factor in; scran is all about efficient energy.

When he's not on base with a mess or eating rat packs out in the field, Price lives on Tesco Meal Deals or camping packs from the local Go Outdoors retailer. Yes, he will eat it cold.

Enter: Nikolai.

The moment that man became an independent contractor, he vowed to eat like a king whenever possible, and learned to cook accordingly. You don't maintain his body mass by eating poorly. He gallivants all over the world on ops for different people, unrestricted by any superior, and every time he lands he collects a recipe or two to add to his repertoire. Cooking for him is a pleasure and an art form, he's just sad that he doesn't have a kitchen of his own to create in...

When he moves in with Price and finds an empty kitchen - apart from a battered old frying pan and spatula that saw some bacon once - he audibly whines; a noise that makes Price huff a laugh. Nik rifles through cupboards in hopes he's just missed something, but comes up with a lidless tupperware. The oven has never been used. It's as pristine as the day it was installed.

He audibly gags at the sight of a ready-to-eat breakfast pouch, but the fridge with half a week's worth of pre-packed sandwiches from the petrol station is the final straw. Nik hauls that Scouser down to the local IKEA and buys out their kitchen section, ignoring his partner's bleats of protest as he chucks yet another lämplig into the trolley.

The next stop is the local market for fresh local food. Nik is a man possessed and Price is in fucking awe. By the time they're home, Price collapses on the sofa and leaves Nik to organise the kitchen as he wants it.

Price wakes up to the single best goulash he has ever tasted in his entire bloody life. Cleans the loaded plate and sits back with a full belly and a beer. He doesn't expect the look on Nik's face when he looks up; pupils blown wide, soft smile, shoulders squared with pride and chest out.

This is a dream come true for Nik. Not only does he now have his own kitchen, but he can use it to feed the man he loves. Price resigns to needing to go up a few belt notches during leave, because how can he say no to that face?