#doc i hope you're good in the kitchen

[nickfowlerrr]

when you’re ready, come and get it

GIF by spaceslayer

pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader

warnings: no explicit smut. sexual content. some fluff. 18+ only.

words: 4.7k

notes: another random two am fic drop - who’s surprised? the starting dialogue of this fic had been sitting in my docs for almost two years and i finally got around to actually writing something for it lol. i hope you like it! thank you in advance for reading. as always, any comments and reblogs are always welcomed and so appreciated. let me know your thoughts! 🩵

Your back is sore as you head toward the door of the cramped little apartment you’re stuck in for the night.

Safe ‘house’ your ass.

“You had to use all the hot water?” Bucky yells from the bathroom you exited only minutes ago. You smirk to yourself and roll your eyes as you reach for the handle of the front door, “You’ll live,” you yell back, letting the closing of the door behind you signal your exit.

You’re in sweats and a long sleeve, sneakers on your feet and your phone in your pocket as you begin the short walk to the Chinese restaurant just down the street from the building you're staying in.

It’s been a long, grueling day and you are starving.

The further down the street you get, the closer the smell of the food - it keeps you moving despite the aches that are wrecking your body. Unsurprisingly, getting shoulder tackled by a super soldier leaves you a little worse for wear.

You almost groan out loud at the thought of him.

You have no idea how you’re going to get through this night.

It’s dark out, but the street lights gleaming off the wet pavement and the storefront signs of the few places still open light your way. At least it stopped raining.

You recognize the name of the shop, stop in front of the door and head in. The entrance bell jingles and a young man comes out from the back to greet you. You give him your name and only have to wait a minute before he comes back with the bag of food you ordered before your shower.

Your stomach growls as you start back down to the apartment.

All you want to do is climb into that bed, pop some advil, scarf down this food, and hopefully sleep off the pain you can feel creeping up your body, slowly but surely.

Your hunger again encourages your speed and before you can get lost in any thoughts, you’re back at the front door.

You unlock it and unthinkingly push it open with your shoulder. You grimace and bite back a growl at the pain that radiates up your neck and down your arm, and at the memory of being sent flying into trunks and boxes lining a cement wall, which you also ended up colliding with.

You sigh and shut the door, locking it behind you. You set the food down on the dark wooden table in the area you call the kitchen. You begin to take the containers out before you turn around to face the bed.

Your eyes narrow in on him instantly as annoyance surges in your veins at the sight before you.

“What are you doing?” you ask sharply, an accusation in your tone.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he replies without looking up from the tablet he’s working on. His hair is damp, a mess of dark brown he keeps behind his ears and out of his face. His brows are furrowed as he reads, all the while he’s laying with his ankles crossed, relaxing on the bed shirtless with his grey sweats low on his hips. Fucking hell.

You bite your tongue, fighting the scowl threatening to take over your face.

“Laying down in my bed, that’s what it looks like.”

“Who said it was your bed?” he challenges, finally looking up at you.

“I did. Just now. And also when we first got here two hours ago,” you point out.

“Well, it’s a good thing you have absolutely no authority over me, then, huh,” he smirks tauntingly as he tosses the tablet to the side.

“Get out of the bed, Barnes.”

“I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, sweetheart, but I’m not moving.”

He crosses his arms like a defiant toddler, his blue eyes almost twinkling with a dare to challenge him, self assured as he always is in your arguments. You lick your lip,

“I mean it, I’m not getting on the floor.”

He shrugs, “Don’t care. Not my problem.”

You can feel your skin getting hot from your irritation and your neck straining as you tense. You really aren’t in the mood for this. You can’t fight right now.

Well…you could. But you won’t. You have food to eat, you can argue who sleeps where later.

You shake your head and roll your eyes, “Jackass.”

You ignore him and walk into the bathroom without closing the door behind you. You wet your hands for a second under the sink water and then pump the sweet smelling soap into them, lathering up and washing your hands. Despite the sound of the running water, you can clearly hear the crinkling of the plastic bag that contains the food as you imagine Bucky is sorting through it all. You finish washing and turn the water back off.

“Don’t touch my lo mein,” you warn him, voice raised as you dry your hands on a towel.

You lean your head out past the door and see him as he twirls some noodles from your container.

“Jackass!” you accuse, throwing the towel down and marching from the bathroom right toward him.

“Don’t be greedy,” he chastises through his bite before grabbing his own container, unphased by your reproach.

“Greedy? As if you don’t have your own food.”

“Sharing is caring,” he taunts before he walks back over to the bed.

Your eyes follow him in disbelief. He sits back in his spot and makes himself comfortable. You scoff before turning back to the table. You grab your opened container and the pack of utensils the restaurant gave you and walk over to the bed, too. You feel Bucky’s eyes on you as you get to the other side of the bed.

“I told you I’m not moving.”

“And I told you I’m not sleeping on the floor. You can do whatever the hell you want.”

“So we’re sharing, then?” he asks. The smile pulling at the corner of his lips is easily pushed aside by you. You don’t want to read into it, so you won’t.

You twirl some lo mein and take a bite, “Sharing is caring,” you echo him as you make yourself comfortable.

You lean over and grab the remote to the 40 inch television hung on the wall across from you. You can complain about the tight quarters and the singular bed, but at least the place is relatively liveable. The tv was a surprise, but welcomed.

You leave it on the channel it lights up on, reruns of some procedural you’ve seen a hundred times over.

You eat in uncharacteristic silence, but every so often you can feel Bucky’s eyes on you. You don’t return his gaze, instead staying focused on your food and trying not to show your discomfort when the pain in your shoulder and neck blooms deeper as the night goes on. You’re grateful he seems to be worn from the mission, too. If he wasn’t, you know he’d have found something to pick with you about by now.

An hour passes and you’re both done with your food. You throw your trash away and head to the bathroom. You leave the door open as you brush your teeth and Bucky enters just as you finish. He watches you intently as you take a pain pill before shoving the bottle, along with the rest of your toiletries, back in your bag. Still, he’s quiet. You would normally call him out for his silence and staring, but you don’t have it in you to start something right now.

You turn to walk out of the bathroom and accidentally bump into him as he moves to step toward the sink.

You hiss at the pain it sends through you, so quiet that had it been anyone else, they wouldn’t have even noticed the sound that escaped you. But this wasn’t anyone else.

You don’t stop walking after you bump into him, just head back toward the bed without pause. Trying to act like nothing happened and that you are perfectly fine. Which you are! Aside from the stabbing pain radiating up and down your arm... you’re good.

You pull the comforter out all around the bed - better to avoid any tugging and pulling in front of Bucky if you can.

As you’re about to climb onto the bed, Bucky emerges from the bathroom. Still shirtless, still oddly silent. It’s starting to get a little unnerving now.

Slowly, you lay down, being careful not to move too fast and doing your best to not move your arm too much.

Bucky gets into bed beside you. You don’t want to, yet you can’t help but notice how gingerly he climbs in. As if he’s trying to make as little movement as possible.

You try to get comfortable, it’s not the first time you’ve had to share a bed on a mission, but with Bucky there’s always that extra heat…tension. Your pointless arguing about who will sleep where, both of you knowing you’ll end up sharing again only to vow the next morning to get the bed to yourself the next time you find yourselves in this situation, it’s damn near routine now. And yet, the tension remains. And the pain you’re feeling isn’t helping in the slightest.

Neither is his shirtlessness. He’s always like a furnace but somehow it feels like he’s radiating even more heat without the barrier of a shirt. You’d love to pull off your own, but the tightness in your shoulder would definitely protest the motion.

“You alright?”

Bucky’s voice breaks the silence. His tone is soft, voice quiet, but it still startles you a bit, catches you off guard.

“Uhm,” you breathe, hesitating, “I, uhm… ‘m fine,” you whisper back. His eyes are on you, you can feel them, but you don’t turn to look back at him.

A beat.

“Would you mind getting the light?” you ask in the same hushed tone.

Another beat.

The bed creaks a bit as Bucky gets up without a word.

The light cuts out and the television is the only thing left glowing in the darkened space of the studio.

He gets back into the bed, being just as careful as he was before, and grabs the remote you left in the space between you. He shuts off the tv and you take a breath, relaxing a bit now that you know he can’t really see you all too well.

You grimace as you readjust your head and shoulders under the pillow.

Ow.

You lay in silence. In pain and discomfort.

…You have some arnica in your bag you could roll on, but that would give you away in a second. You could roll onto your side but then you’d be facing Bucky and you don’t want to make things awkward…er.

You wait a few minutes before you peek over to him in the dark. From what you can tell, his eyes are closed, his breathing seems steady… Fuck it, you think. Whether he’s sleeping or not, you don’t want to feel this any longer than you have to. You quietly push the comforter off of yourself, kicking it off your feet, and delicately roll yourself up.

You keep the layout of the space in mind as you navigate around in the dark. You’re tiptoeing carefully, hopeful you haven’t accidentally woken him up as a floorboard creaks beneath you when you get to the table you left your bag on.

You find your toiletries bag and feel around until your hands grasp your roll-on. You walk lightly back over to the bed where you sit down.

You unscrew the cap and start rolling the cooling bliss up your neck and on your shoulder - the small part of it that’s exposed by your shirt, at least.

You sigh to yourself and loosely put the cap back on, dropping the bottle beside you.

Fuck it, you think again. Shirt’s comin’ off.

As soon as the material of your long sleeve is over your head, the lights come back on, eliciting a harsh gasp from you as you jerk your head in the direction of the light switches.

“Fucking hell, Bucky!” You chastise as you bring a hand up to rub at your neck. You moved too quickly when the lights came on and now a new wave of tension stabs at your neck and shoulder once more.

How the hell he managed to get out of the bed and across the room without you hearing is beyond you, but you aren’t really all that surprised.

“So when you said you were fine,” he walks back over to the bed, “what you meant was..?”

“Was that I’m fine,” you repeat yourself firmly, head downcast as you keep your back to him.

The smallest bit of self consciousness flares inside of you as you realize you’re in only a bra and sweats as he’s free to scan your body behind you, but you quickly decide you don’t care. You’re more focused on the strain and his apparent concern for you.

The bed moves and you feel the roll on being grabbed from beside your thigh. Bucky is right behind you now; you feel yourself freeze and inadvertently tense even more.

You inhale sharply as his hand meets your skin. You don’t move as his finger slips down the strap of your bra. You listen intently as he unscrews the cap and you sigh again as he moves the arnica roll on up and over your shoulder, just slightly down the slope of it, and then back up toward your neck as you let your arm relax, and then your head as you tilt it in the opposite direction to allow him more access to your neck. God, that feels good.

“I didn’t mean for you to get hurt,” he says quietly.

You furrow your brow. “I know that.”

“We didn’t have time, I wasn’t thinking,” he starts.

“I was directly in their line of fire, Bucky, I know.” You reach back and take the bottle from him, he lets you as you keep your gaze in front of you and your back to him. “Is that why you’ve been so quiet?” you laugh softly, “You felt bad about pushing me?”

You screw the cap back on and toss it, along with your shirt, gently to the floor beside you.

“I’m sorry,” he says, ignoring your questions.

“You don’t have to be sorry.” You finally turn to face him, moving your whole body, bringing a knee up on the bed as you climb back onto the mattress. “You saved my life…again,” you add. “Thank you.”

Bucky scoffs as he sits back on his haunches, still facing you. The mentholy smell of the arnica rub is thick in the air, but you don’t mind it. You look at him, his hair still a mess, his normally icy blue eyes just the tiniest bit darker now. You force yourself to look away before your gaze once again drifts down to his solid chest.

You huff as you lay back down in your spot. The roll on and the advil you took earlier are helping with the pain, but the tightness is still bothersome.

“Still?” Bucky asks with a raised brow.

You roll your eyes. “Not all of us have super healing abilities, Barnes.”

His tongue mindlessly wets his lips as he considers you. “Turn over,” he tells you, his long hidden Brooklyn accent making its rare appearance. Your lips twitch at the sound. One of the reasons you enjoy arguing with him so often is because of that damn voice. His accent gets thicker when you’re in your back and forths… You’re hit with realization then of what he just said and you’re sure your confusion is written clear as day on your face as you give him a look,

“Sorry?”

“Turn over,” he repeats.

“Wha-,” you titter nervously, looking up at him as he stays on his knees next to you. “Why?” you question.

“Would you just listen to me for once? Turn over before I turn you over,” he orders.

You ignore the tingle in your belly…and lower, at his instruction and the easy air of authority his voice so effortlessly holds. Half the time it irritates you, but the other half, though you try to push it away, gets you feeling like this.

You swallow thickly and blink away from his intent gaze before you slowly move to turn yourself over without causing any pain.

You take a shaky breath you hope he doesn’t notice as you adjust yourself, trying not to smother your face in the pillow.

You’re not sure what he’s going to do, your body is buzzing with the unknown, your nerves are on edge, but here you are following his orders nonetheless.

The bed shifts as Bucky moves closer and you don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you feel his touch again. You shudder as he lets his hand ghost from your trap, over your shoulder, and down your arm. The bed shifts again as Bucky straddles you. You can feel his warmth radiating off of him, his knees on either side of your body.

“Tell me if you want me to stop.”

You breathe, and stay quiet. Bucky waits a moment longer before he continues.

It starts slow, his touch soft yet firm as his hands massage you. Your eyes close without your permission as you exhale a heavy breath. This is good. Really good. His hands are like magic as he applies just the right amount of pressure to your back. He works a tight spot and another heavy breath leaves you.

Oh fuck… that wasn’t a heavy breath.

That was a moan.

It doesn’t stop him, but you, you’re mortified. Your eyes snap open and you hurriedly try to push yourself up. It’s to no avail. Bucky keeps you down easily with just one hand on your back, the other lightly squeezing your shoulder. Your heart is going to beat out of your chest. You don’t really know what it is you’re feeling right now, but you think it might just be the end of you.

He’s essentially on top of you. and he’s warm. and strong. and even beneath him, he smells so damn good.

You don’t feel helpless often, but right now, under Bucky, being kept in place like this by him, you do. Like prey caught by a predator…

Except you don’t feel scared.

Embarrassed, but not scared.

In fact with Bucky, you always feel safe, protected. Like earlier today. He had your back, he was watching out for you, like he always does, whether you’re fighting or not. He’s always there.

He squeezes your shoulder soothingly just a bit more, “Relax,” he eases, his thumb rubbing into your tight muscle. You force yourself to breathe again and relax back down into the bed.

You do feel a little helpless, but god help you, you think you like it.

“This is okay?” he asks, voice deeper now as he starts massaging your back again, working a little deeper.

It takes you a second to voice your affirmation, and it comes out as more of a deep hum, but he takes it.

Your lashes flutter once more and you sigh, another soft moan slipping from you as Bucky adds slightly more pressure. His hands move a little lower as he works at the tension in your back, and he leans in a little closer as he speaks again.

“This okay?” he rasps in your ear.

Your breath hitches as you slacken even deeper into the bed.

“Yes,” you murmur headily. It’s not just from his touch, it’s that it’s his touch. You’ve done this dance with him before, but you’ve never gotten quite this close. You’ve shared heated moments, wistful stares, lingering touches, almost kisses, hell you’ve woken up in his arms before on nights like this, but it’s never been quite like this.

The base of his palm rubs at a particularly tight spot. He massages you carefully… and when you suddenly feel his lips press against the skin of your shoulder, you can’t help but whimper at the contact. You think maybe you’re imagining things, that his touch just feels so good it’s causing all these thoughts to run wild in your head…

Then you feel his fingers brush against the band of your bra.

“Bucky…” you waver.

“Tell me to stop,” he breathes.

You don’t even give yourself a second to catch up before you respond.

“No,” you mew.

His hands squeeze your soft waist and his lips brush your skin gently. Another weak moan leaves you.

Bucky smoothly unclasps your bra and his hands ghost over your back as he pushes it off of you.

His touch falls to your hip where he takes hold of you once more. You can so easily feel his strength in his grip before he pulls you lightly to turn over toward him.

You do just that, slowly and carefully, until you find yourself right beneath him, his heavy lidded eyes set on you, his lips parted as he takes you in beneath him.

Your hands find the waistband of his sweats and you pull him closer to you. He lowers himself down and your noses brush as he comes in even closer. You’ve wanted this for so long. You breathe each other in for a moment before your eyes close and your lips finally touch. It’s soft and hesitant, just a single kiss. Then another. And another. And then all at once, it’s a whirlwind of fervency. Your hand is crawling in his hair as you hold him closer. You try to lean up into him, but he stops you and follows you back down until your head is resting on the pillow. You murmur your protest and you can feel Bucky’s smirk against your lips. He kisses you one more time, deep and lingering, before he finally pulls away. You’re breathing harder, looking up at him with nothing but want and desire swimming in your gaze.

He lifts a hand to rub at your shoulder gently and you sigh at the feeling.

“Feels better?”

“Yeah,” you breathe with a light nod.

“Good,” he breathes in turn. Your brows furrow in confusion when he moves from above you and instead lays down next to you on the bed. You had a different idea of where things were about to go…

Your bra is halfway off and you don’t know whether you want to remove it completely or pull it back on. Oh god… maybe this was all just a dream, your fantasy playing out all too realistically and tricking you.

While your mind is worrying itself, Bucky rolls onto his side, facing you, and gets your attention. His hand comes to rest on your lower tummy, smoothing over to your hip. “I didn’t realize you’d gotten hurt earlier,” his voice is low and sincere. “I really am sorry.”

You watch him bring his hand over to the strap of your bra, the cool metal chilling your skin as he drags it down your arm. You don’t stop him as he does, instead you let the other strap fall further down your arm before you pull it off altogether and drop it off the bed and onto the floor. He moves in closer to you and his eyes fall to your lips. He inches closer before kissing you again. His hand ghosts up your waist as you murmur against his lips, “‘s’okay,” you shake your head at his needless apology, kissing him back. His wandering hand cups your full breast and he kneads it, your nipples peaking at his attention. You moan into the kiss, getting a low groan from Bucky in turn as he deepens it, and you attempt to roll onto your side and into him to be even closer.

Again, Bucky easily stops your movement, gently pushing you back down, but not breaking the kiss as he follows you.

“Wha?” you mumble, pulling away from him, “What?”

You’re getting more confused and frustrated the longer this goes on.

He laughs and your eyes narrow at that goddamned smirk on his face.

“Look, sweetheart, as much as I’d love to take this further,” he simpers, bringing a hand to caress your cheek softly, “you’re hurt.”

“I’m fine,” you argue back.

“Just lay down,” he laughs again, “relax. You’re gonna be even more sore in the morning. You don’t need me making it worse.”

“I can take it,” you try to argue again, to defend yourself, really.

“I’m sure you can,” he allows with a soft smirk, “But if you’ve been feeling this between us for as long as I have, two more days of waiting ‘ll be nothing.”

You pout. “Right,” you say unbelievingly. You turn your head back so you’re facing the ceiling. “Tease,” you mutter under your breath - knowing full well he can hear you.

“Pot, meet kettle,” he scoffs.

You roll your eyes and let your head fall to the side to look at him again.

“You need sleep,” he says softly, leaning in close to you again. You reach to touch his face, his cheeks stubbly.

“Would you get the light?” you ask in the same tone.

Bucky leans in and places a chaste kiss on your lips. He hums quietly, licking his lips as he pulls away and sits up. “I’m gonna be kissing you all the time now, you know that, right?”

You breathe a laugh, smiling softly as you watch him get up and go turn off the lights.

You pull the comforter up and over yourself, keeping one foot out so as not to overheat too quickly.

Bucky shuts off the lights and gets back into the bed, sliding in next to you under the covers.

He gets comfortable in his spot and after a few seconds, you slowly inch closer to him. Your hand touches his as you both lay on your backs. You get closer until you finally decide to turn toward him. Sleeping on your side will be a lot more comfortable, and -

Bucky cuts off your train of thought as he suddenly, but gently, pulls you into him, allowing your head to rest on his chest as he keeps a protective arm around you.

“We both know we’re gonna wake up like this anyway,” he says, finishing your thought without knowing it.

You fight your smile as you curl into him, finding the most comfortable spot for both of you. The skin to skin contact is intimate and so natural, you don’t even give it a second thought as you start to drift off into sleep. You feel Bucky press a tender kiss on your forehead and the warmth that flows through you is undeniable.

Just like you two.

You’ve both known it for some time, you just never wanted to make the wrong move. But this is it, here and now.

Undeniable.

God, you’re getting too hot already. If this had been any other night from your past “sleepovers” you’d probably just try and deal. But tonight, and every night from now on if you’re lucky, is different. You move just a bit and Bucky doesn’t object. Slowly, you start shimmying down your sweats until you’re able to just kick them off under the covers. You were planning on losing them earlier anyway, why should you be self conscious now.

Plus, Bucky did accuse you of being a tease not fifteen minutes ago. If he thought anything you ever did before could come close to his touches tonight, he had no idea.

And Bucky’s right, you’ll be waking up like this come the morning no matter how you go to bed. You in his arms, in nothing but a pair of cute underwear, would certainly be a good morning. And then you’ll see how he really feels about waiting another day or two to finally be with each other the way you’ve been wanting for so long.

Now you know better than to underestimate Bucky’s patience, but telling from the bulge growing in his sweats as his hand wanders over your hip and squeezes your bottom while your fingers dance along his midsection, ghosting lower and lower as you feel his muscles tense…you think you might just get it sooner rather than later.

But either way, you smile softly, cuddling into Bucky as he pulls your body closer, you know you’ll both get what you want.

[fanaticsnail]

Hey! Hope you’re doing well this fine day~ I had a cute idea if u just wanna hear me rant about it.

So imagine teaching Killer a new pasta recipe whether that is a new sauce or new way to cook it and making it for him and watching him literally LIGHT UP with pure glee over how good it is. I say this as I’ve made my grandma’s spaghetti sauce which is STRAIGHT UP ADDICTING every time I make it and gobble it all up. Like the reader can be like a straw hat or kid pirate who is like hey I have this really yummy pasta recipe if you wanna try and afterwards she keeps on exchanging recipes with Killer and lowkey he in love with her mwahahaha (cause as they say in Princess and the Frog “the quickest way to a man’s heart, is through his stomach”). And she cooks it for him since he is always cooking 🥹🥹🥹

Also! I do have to add how much IM OBSESSED with the recent Hey Doc Drabble. Idk if you saw my tags but man I was GOING THROUGH IT. All the sweet nicknames and just the pure desperation for doc to be okay like 😭😭😭 and POOR HEAT AND BUBBLEGUM LIKE AWWWW I need a part 2 to that or SOMETHING just to see an aftermath if you will. Wire calling them “honey” had me WEAK.

Alright imma head out now, have a marvelous day/night 🏃🏽‍♀️🏃🏽‍♀️🏃🏽‍♀️

How did I miss this 😭. Thank you for your beautiful compliments on the 'Hey Doc' series. It's been an absolute joy to write. Reading through tags and reblogs are my favourite: especially when it's as enthusiastic as yours has been. You're so much fun, and I very much appreciate the time you take to read and go through my silly things. I can't write a full fic, but I hope this little drabble satiates the need of cooking with Killer 🖤.

Pasta

Masterlist Here

Word Count: mini-fic, just a little one.

Themes: Killer x reader, fluff, cooking, food, Killer is in awe, you are cooking, and I am hungry.

The one thing he hasn't managed to perfect is a pure, unadulterated Marinara. Anything to do with crushed tomato he finds too acidic, and over compensates with far too much salt to cut the tannins. He's tried everything: more onion, less herbs, malted brown sugar, refining his own salt by storing sea water on the oven, everything. He just can't seem to get it right.

Killer and pasta: his one weakness.

He would never admit it, but he has been attempting to perfect each recipe he comes upon. Pesto is all made from scratch: crushed fresh basil, the purest of virgin olive oils, a parmesan wheel with crispy salt crystals, oven toasted pine nuts, cloves of bulbed garlic, everything perfected by his skill in his kitchen. His pesto pasta is better than Sanji's, and the curly-browed chef is both impressed and intimidated by it.

Watching from a safe distance as you bounce gleefully within the dominion of the kitchen, he hunches his back and places his whiskered chin over his laced fingertips. He was unsure as to why you offered to cook for the crew, but your enthusiasm had him step aside to watch you work. It was the initial confession of homesickness that did it for him. Knowing food can aid in emotional regulation and comfort, he was more than happy to watch from his position sitting at the kitchen island.

And then the smell hit him.

The sweetness of roasting tomatoes, onion, garlic, and the herbal aromatics of thyme, rosemary and sage. The soft waft had his heart swell and beat in his chest and eyes twinkle in curiousity. Stirring the rotund vegetables in the pot and expertly crushing them with the blunt tip of the wooden spoon had him sit up attentively in his seat, watching you as you attend to the sauce from muscle memory alone.

He was in awe, perplexed, and intrigued.

Each time you would move on to another element of the dish, Killer would move a little closer. Each time your back was turned, he would perch himself just a little more towards the simmering pot. When you moved to the pantry to decide which shape of pasta to begin to boil, you could barely make out the shape of Killer's mask being partially elevated over his lips and nose by one large hand. Using a fresh spoon, he dips it into the sauce and puckers his purple-tinted lips and extends a breath of cool air to stifle the heat.

As soon as the first drops meet his tongue, he can't help the soft moan that escapes him at the flavor. Upon your return with a bag of penne in hand, you are immediately hoisted into the air with Killer's hands beneath your arms. Gently spinning you before placing you on the ground, he claps his arms over your shoulders and leans down closer. The purple hue of his lips is stretched up in a smile, his joy at your sauce immediately having him taken aback and fullfilled in the knowledge that he now has the answer he desperately seeks.

"Teach me. Please."

And who were you to deny him? It was a family recipe, and this crew aboard the Victoria Punk was your new family. Gently raising one of your hands to cup over his on your shoulder, you crinkle your nose at him and nod with a smile to match his own.

"Yes, chef."

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @sordidmusings @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady

[jackiepackiee]

Hello, I hope you're having a splendid day!

If your requests are open may I ask for the flags x single parent reader romantic headcanons? I've seen the other one with the mad scientist and I just found it so amazing!

But of course, only if you are comfortable, I don't want to pressure you.

I shall say my good byes now as I have to leave.

Take care of yourself and rest.

Goodbye.

𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓕𝓵𝓪𝓰𝓼 𝔁 𝓢𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓵𝓮 𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻

Warnings- parent struggles

Type - headcanons

Of course I added Chuuya.

Albatross -

Did someone say the fun dad?

He admires how responsible you are

Quite literally watches in awe at anything you do

Making a snack? Wow. Hushing your kid from crying? He’s shocked by your skill

Your kid likes cars? He will have an entire lot for them.

Trains? Look, now the port mafia has a and it’s trained named after your kid

Almost like a brother, sorry

He’s immature and has never been around kids

So so gentle however

He’s not dumb, just eccentric after all

You’ll definitely walk in on him covered in paint by your kid, laughing and letting it happen

Tea parties? Tea parties.

7/10, congrats, you have a second kid

Pianoman -

Thinks the absolute highest of you

Will never pry on what happened to the biological parent

But if they hurt you? He’s pulling piano strings

The kid is babied, no matter the age

He’s a leader, and a protecter

The port mafia doesn’t even know you have one

He likes a quiet personal life

No nanny’s, he will clear his schedule if needed

It’s his kid now, and he’s ready to try his best

Smart man, makes sure to let you get plenty of rest

Knows it must’ve been hard being alone

So he wants you to recover from however long you missed the rest you’ve needed

You kid wants a new toy? He will counterfeit money and buy hundreds

9/10, a great dad

Lippmann -

Why the hell is your kid suddenly speaking other languages?

It’s Lippmann. He’s too smart and will make sure to compliment you in French, or Spanish, or German

Your kid becomes so well mannered

“Look, daddy is on TV!”

It’s always fun to have a movie night and watch his newest film

Your kid is an actor now, yeah

Expect many private shows staring your lover and your child

His favorite? Princess/prince with him as the knight

Such an incredible comforter to both you and your child

You’re stressed? He’ll make sure you’re okay while also dealing with whatever’s freaking you out

10/10, just perfect

Iceman -

So goddamn gentle

Your heart will melt, watch out

He’s soft spoken and it must be magic at how well he can console your kids whines

You may know of his work, but only what he does

Not the victims, days, times, anything

But you kid? Doesn’t know a single thing

“My daddy is a superhero”

Yeah, depends on who you ask

He is technically killing bad guys (bad guys to the pm that is)

When you lay down your kid he’ll pull you to the kitchen and play a record

Slow dancing and lifting you up with immense ease

9/10, you may have death of a overheated heart

Doc -

…kinda awkward

He is good with kids, of course

All his years in med school? He had to have seen some children

He’s shy with you, but not shocked you have a kid

Will never judge you, not for a second

Makes sure your body has healed correctly

Back pains from pregnancy (if you are the mom)? You don’t know how but he will heal it

Your kid is like a walking dictionary, muttering words that would only make sense to a surgeon

For a doctor, it’s ironic how much he offers candy to them

“Be good and you’ll get a lollipop from daddy.”

7/10, your kid is always healthy, but he’s a bit childish too

Chuuya -

if you’re a teen parent he won’t care

Supports you and your child with his new pm check

Remember that one wan episode when he said that he would spoil a puppy if he had one?

That’s how he is with your kid and you

You want to take the kid to a new amusement park but the lines are too long for the kid to wait?

He will rent the entire thing, boy has connections

A lot of the sheep were young, so he is good with kids

Won’t be great as a role model, but an amazing protector

Nothing will ever hurt you or the child

If you want, he will definitely let you move in

Warning, the house will be filled with toys that the two of you won’t know what to do with

Overall 7/10 his heart is in the right place but he’s so young

[imtooobsessedrn]

[DONATION LINKS ARE UNDER THE CUT]

The silence from lots of you is absolutely insane.

This is a glimpse of the current situation in Rafah.

Israeli warplanes drop bombs on the camps of the displaced people in the city of Rafah.

the fact that congo got bombed and no one is talking about it…

All eyes on Congo 🇨🇩

LOOK at the situation right now, imagine if that was your family or if you were there and everybody on Earth was ignoring the genocide of your people because of famous rich people in expensive outfits? There is NO reason anybody should be silent about the genocides happening right now because any reason you're gonna give will not even amount to how much the pain hurts all these people who have to face their loved ones being killed and starved.

I can't even put into words how disgusting it is that we're just not outraged enough, people are getting killed and tortured. The least we can do is boycott, educate ourselves and amplify the voices that need our help.

Fight for them how you would fight for your family - Zierra7's tiktok on the situation in Sudan

These people are not just statistics these people are OUR siblings on this Earth. We CAN fight for them we CAN help them. Nobody is free until they are free too.

Donation Links, please consider either donating or boosting these:

Congo:

FreeDRC Linktree

GoFundMe to help displaced children in Congo

Focus Congo

Friends of Congo

Panzi Foundation

Congo Children Trust

Sudan:

Fight Hunger in Sudan: The Khartoum Kitchen appeal

Help support families in Kassab IDP camp

Sudan Solidarity Collective

Crisis Relief Sudan

Support a Community Stuck In Sudan

Haiti:

Hope For Haiti

Haiti, Sudan, Gaza and more Fundraiser Google Doc

Anseye Pou Ayiti

Médecins Sans Frontières [Medical assistance to over 75 countries, including Palestine, Sudan, Haiti and DRCongo].

Yemen:

Saba Relief

Save the Children

Yemen Starving

Yemen Foundation

Launch Good

Palestine:

Gaza eSims

Care for Gaza

Palestine Children Relief Fund

Donate Feminine Hygiene Kits

Daily Click

[cerezzzita]

🍓 ˖ . ᵎᵎ Confessions features Alcohol (Sometimes) ✦ Dante x gn!Reader

⌕ summary: Dante and alcohol could be like water and oil — under no circumstances should they mix. Yet, at that night, it seems he's up to something with that drunk, big mouth of his.

notes: my god I'm nervous asf. um, hi y'all, guess who's back at writing after almost full 5 months of hiatus? that's right, we're back in action! i finally finished this little, silly oneshot that was rotting in my docs for... 7 months? geez, me and my lazy ass. anyways! i hope you all enjoy the reading! i wrote this with 4dante in mind but honestly, it can be any Dante, it's up to your imagination <3

⋆ 08/07/23 edit: i forgot to mention, but this fic was born thanks to this writing prompt, i just couldn't found it easily hehe

♡ word count: 1.125

♡ tags: fluffy, gender-neutral reader, no use of pronouns or reader's appearance description (you/yours used only), mentions of alcohol, drunk Dante (and he's sooo soft), Dante might be ooc sorry in advance, love confessions.

ⓘ gif's not mine!!

Dante and alcohol could be like water and oil — under no circumstances should they mix. Truth be told, specifically that night was not one where you enjoyed a patient mood, especially with the drunken Devil Hunter lying on the worn leather sofa and every half minute calling you and even dropping occasional flirtations. You were now in the kitchen, dedicating yourself to washing a considerable amount of dishes while from the corner of your eye you watched Dante, posture still relaxed and with a smile easily more dancing than usual, making sure that he wouldn't do anything that would mean usual danger for a person guided by the lack of sense that alcohol usually provides. However, the brief thought swept out of your mind; it was Dante. The man had a natural, bizarre attraction to danger. 

That's when the handsome half-demon shook his head, his clear, icy-colored irises glazed over your back-to-back figure. Dante pouted for not getting the attention he wanted so much, then opened his mouth and verbalized his need.

"Babe," he began, loud enough that his voice scrambled from earlier hours' whiskey filled the short distance between them. You, however, sighed, determined to ignore him until he fell asleep from some miraculous, alcoholic effect.

Which was definitely not a good choice. Dante hated being ignored.

"Baaabe..."

"What is it now, Dante?" you answered over your teeth. He whimpered at such harshness.

"Don't be like that, loveee," he whined through his tone, "You're being a big meanie to me today, y'know that?"

"A meanie? Me?" your heels pivoted so that you were now facing him, one hand on your hips and your brow forming an arc of curiosity. "Why?"

Dante sipped the rest of a bottle of Jack Daniels, exhaling audibly at the end. Once again his typical smile grew at the corners of his mouth; you gulped, blinked and woke up to your somewhat glassy-eyed state attached in the Devil Hunter.

What exactly would it take for a man like Dante to be so attractive?

"Because I want attention," he replied, a simple retort that made the inside of your chest heave and your hand on your waist falter. Dante, although drunk, seemed to notice this act and widened the left corner of his feline smile even more. "And you're being a meanie 'cause you're not paying attention to me. Come here, sugar… I want smoochies."

At other times, you would chuckle and brush it off. It was common for you to deal with the half-demon on these alcohol-soaked nights, whether they were made up of flirtations and jokes or tears and outbursts — a part of you, even if momentarily, was grateful for the night's choice to be the first alternative. But something in Dante's tone alerted the part that was costing your frustrated attempts at concealment, the very same part that just now stirred just by witnessing his smile and the permanent gaze on you.

It didn't take that much clairvoyance to see the obvious: you were undeniably in love with Dante. A passion that you swore was, somehow, one-sided.

Your impatience melted away and the silence permeating the air of the place became metamorphic; from casual to uncomfortable. Dante tilted his head, waiting for an answer from you. You sighed, returned your focus to the last dishes and resigned yourself to drying them as a form of slight distraction.

"Dante, you're drunk."

He laughed briefly between words, "Tell me something I don't know, angelcake."

"You're talking nonsense."

"Maybe. But I still want some smoochies… Unless you don't want them, it's fine by me."

Once your work with the dishes was duly finished, you once again looked over your shoulder at him. Dante's lids drooped as the silent minutes passed by, his voice quieting, silver strands trailing across the back of the couch as he laid his head down. He was finally falling asleep.

You approached the half-demon's sleeping figure, uttering a 'tsk, tsk' which elicited a small chuckle.

"What do I do with you, Dante?"

The end of this night would be like that of many others, it would be up to you the arduous mission of putting Sparda's beautiful son to bed. Arduous for he certainly wasn't the lightest of beings and even though the habit made it look easy, your human muscles totally begged to differ.

Grunting as you struggled to carry him bridal style, you climbed the stairs to the top floor and with a little sacrifice managed to open the door to Dante's room. Before leaving him on the bed, babbling came directly from him, who now accommodated his face in the crook of your neck.

"Y'know, you're amazing…"

Subtly taken aback, you choose to listen to what the sleepy Dante had to say — for curiosity and for the unique, strong beat your heart emitted.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. You're also beautiful, and smart, and funny, and hot…" from there, you became hot with embarrassment as Dante's voice wakes up again, "You're so much fun! Man, no wonder I'm in love with you."

Your heart, happy and passionate, fluttered inside your ribcage. Your eyes wanted to pop out of their sockets. The surprising, heated euphoria altered your body temperature. Your arms softened like a sweet pudding, swaying and unconsciously allowing Dante to fall to the ground.

"... Ow..."

It wasn't possible, was it? Was it the illusions of the booze, or was Dante really in love with you too?

You gasped as you realized what you'd done, rushing to get the half-demon back in your arms in a fleeting act of trying to regain consciousness and collect all your agitated — but now happy — thoughts.

All right. Dante was known for many attributes, one of them was his frankness. And being drunk this same frankness was reinforced tenfold, in fact. There would be no reason for him to lie.

However, words like these had a huge impact.

You took a deep breath, carefully positioning Dante on the soft mattress and giving him one last look to make sure you didn't just lay him down and that he was comfortable enough. He mumbled as if he was in an argument with sleep, now lying face down on the bed. Your hand snaked into the untidy silver hair to pull it back from Dante's stunning face, your heart calmer and moving to a slower beat. You smiled, your eyes wryly drunk on the man's sleeping vision.

"Sweet dreams, daredevil."

You gave a shy peck on his cheek. Dante stretched a petit smile, and yours grew. Leaving the dark room, you headed for yours, even more wrapped in your feelings, which you now knew were reciprocated.

Quite a confession that could only have the signature of someone like Dante.

cerezzzita©, 2023 · all rights reserved ⓘ do not copy, edit, steal or claim as yours | reblogs and comments are welcome!

[anon911andbuddie]

hii! idk if this would be a good fic but i just thought it would be cute, what if one day Eddie comes home to find Buck with like a sizable cut on his hand from cooking or something. and of course Eddie is all like "protective medic boyfriend mode." he insists on sitting buck down (even though buck claims it's fine) and properly bandaging it up.

Sorry its been a while. I've had a lot going on and still do, but I was able to pop this out rather quickly, so I hope you guys enjoy.

-Red💋

Accidents

Buck just wanted to do something nice. Eddie and he have been working opposite shifts since Buck agreed to cover Ravi's A shifts so he could go see his parents on their anniversary week. This was the first night he and Eddie were going to have alone - Christopher staying the night with his best friend and in that moody young teen phase.

So Buck was making a nice dinner and, hopefully, it was seductive enough for Eddie to take him to bed after. God he missed the sex.

Pain seared through him as his trailing of thoughts kept him from watching his cutting board. He cursed, abandoning the knife and veggies to go to the sink and wash his hand off. Blood trickled from the cut and Buck made a face. This was not how he wanted his night to start out.

The running of the water kept him from hearing the door open. Eddie made his way through the house, following the sound of running water to the kitchen. "Buck? What are we-" he cut himself off as he took in the scene. "Babe?!"

"Eds, I'm fine."

Eddie reached into the stream of water to pull Buck's hand out. He took a look at the cut and hissed. Grabbing some paper towels, he placed them on the cut. "Hold pressure." He guided Buck over to a chair. "Sit and don't move."

"Eddie-"

"Babe, I'll be right back. Just, please, stay right here."

Buck sighed and nodded. Eddie traversed into the bathroom, grabbing their first aid kit and coming back. He knelt in front of Buck and took his hand into his grip. "Can you still move your fingers?"

Buck wiggled them, wincing as it pulled on the injured skin. "PMS is fine. It's not that deep of a cut. I just had a moment of ADHD and suddenly the knife wasn't cutting vegetables anymore."

Eddie examined the hand further with drawn brows and a downturned mouth. He nodded at Buck's explanation, putting on disposable gloves. He removed the soaked paper towels from Buck's hand, poking and prodding at the site to check it out. "It doesn't look too deep. I think you'll be fine without stitches. It's just going to be a bitch when you forget not to use this hand for heavy lifting." He pours peroxide over a square of gauze and begins wiping the cut down.

Buck hisses and Eddie kisses one of his fingers in apology. "Told you it was fine." He chuckled lightly.

"I don't like it when you bleed, Evan." Eddie replied easily. He finishes cleaning the sight and grabs more gauze, placing a think layer of antibacterial cream on it before placing it over the cut. He layers some gauze after it before wrapping it tightly with coban. "We'll check it every twelve hours as needed."

"Yes Sir, Doc." Buck goofily salutes.

Eddie rolls his eyes fondly, leaning up to kiss Buck's lips lightly. "You're an idiot." He laughs.

Buck laughs with him. "But I'm your idiot."

Eddie smiles lovingly at him. "You are...how about we order in tonight? Watch a movie?"

"Sounds like a plan."

[iisasarcasticlittleshite]

Hi hi! I was wondering if I could request bakugou reacting to male reader who likes wearing skirts beating up someone for making shitty comments(most likely mineta) like readers in a pretty ass skirt just fully wailing on someone. If you’re not comfy writing this that’s totally okay! Love your writing <3

I'm so sorry this took so long! I started reading ACOTAR and it's just consumed my life at this point haha.

Hope you enjoy, and thank you so much for the ask!

Bakugo will always advocate for you wearing whatever the fuck you want, because whatever the fuck you want, usually looks hot as hell.

You've always had a certain...swagger about you. Not full of yourself just, quietly fabulous. Even in your school uniform, you just look...good.

The blonde's shameless eyes have a habit of wandering to you whenever he gets the chance, slowly growing to love the way you style your hair, noting which accessories you favour.

In second year, you started painting your nails, and he soon clocked your favourite colours and started wishing you'd let him paint them for you.

His attention is more obvious than he thinks it is, and you're not ignorant to Katsuki's lingering eyes. You preen each time his eyes linger for longer, swaying your hips with extra swing when he walks behind you.

Still, Katsuki doesn't act any different around you. Rough around the edges as always.

Summer this year was kicking everyone's ass, training in this heat was getting ridiculous, and wearing trousers all day was downright torture.

Katsuki was busy melting into the couch, regretting the extra workout he'd tried to get through that morning. It was saturday, most people with any sense were sleeping through the worst of the heat, but heroes don't get to turn on the AC before kicking ass.

His explosive sweat glistened on his forehead and he contemplates getting up to shower.

The heat, and the previous week of exams has the dorms pretty quiet, so Mineta's obnoxious screech of laughter is far too loud to Bakugo's ears.

'Dude! You know you're wearing a skirt right?!'

Bakugo felt anger rise in his gut like a reflex, he doesn't even know who Mineta's making fun of, and he already wants to drop kick the little shit.

'Skirts are for girls, what're you-'

'Shut your face, blue balls.'

The sound of your voice has Katsuki sitting bolt upright, craning his neck to see you standing in the kitchen doorway, wearing a read and black plaid skirt and a black crop top, doc martins half unlaced on your feet.

Mineta's face is red with laughter, and Katsuki growled as he saw the menace reaching for his phone.

Laughing, making fun of you. Katsuki scowled dangerously, ready to jump to your defence just this once, because damn do you look good, he doesn't give a fuck what people say you can't wear.

Turned out, he didn't need too.

You slid one of your chunky rings off your finger while Mineta wasn't looking, and flung it, with pin-point accuracy, at the top of the tiny demons head, missing his "hair" to clock him right in the temple.

Katsuki watched your ring skid across the room, sliding into the carpet at his feet as you unleashed hell on Mineta, unknowingly drawing attention.

'Now listen here, dipstick, it's not my fault your masculinity's so delicate you feel threatened by a damned skirt and the colour pink. Go project your insecurities on someone else.'

Kirishima claimed how manly you were and soon dragged Sero and Mina into scolding the little shit while you went looking for your ring, now in Kastuki's hand.

The blonde stood as you approached, the skirt gently brushing your bare thighs, and he's suddenly a little jealous of that piece of fabric.

'Oh, thank you for picking it up.' You smiled brightly, knowing full well where his eyes have wandered as you held your hand out for the ring.

Katsuki gulped, placing the warm metal in your waiting palm, letting his fingers linger over your skin as he stepped past you, lips brushing your ear as he suddenly pressed himself dangerously close to you.

'You're welcome, hot stuff.'

You gaped, left blinking at the abyss of the empty sitting room, while Katsuki, smug, roguish Katsuki, chuckled at your back, grinning all the way to his room for a much deserved shower.

[docholligay]

Doc, I’m moving out on my own for the first time, and I’m wondering what cookware is absolutely vital. I tried looking it up and got told about a wild variety of cookware that I’m not sure I need if I’m just cooking for me, but also I don’t know which can be left out in favor of more versatile cookware.

OKAY FANTASTIC I THRIVE ON THIS KIND OF THING.

So, let's say I'm going into an empty kitchen, and I can only have six pieces of cookware. These are ROUGHLY in order of how I would buy them, though I could be argued on a couple points. All brands are what I think are the best version of said object is--you are free to buy a different or cheaper one.

Dutch Oven

This is an absolute workhorse. You can braise in it, cook pasta in it, use it as a roaster for chicken, make soup in it, fry in it, bake bread in it, even bake a cake if you gotta though it wouldn't be my first choice. I prefer plain to enameled, enamel always chips eventually.

Lodge Logic 7 quart

2. Sheet Pan

Here's what we use for cookies, roast vegetables, fish, also can be used for chicken and other things.

Nordic Ware Half Sheet

3. Sauce Pan

So for making sauces, heating up a can of soup, melting chocolate, making jam, etc, you're going to want something smaller than the Dutch oven that heats up a little faster. Note this isn't the pan I own: The pan I own i got used and actually would never pay the new price for.

Tramontina Stainless

4. Skillet Pan

Okay, so now we're expanding. This is what I would use to saute, to make paella, you can even bake a giant cookie in it--I do this all the time.

Lodge Classic Skillet

5. Cake Pan

This would be my next pick! It's easier to bake cakes in a cake pan rather than a cast iron pan. I actually make my brownies in cake pans, i like them better thicker, and other people seem to agree! You can also make banana bread in one, no problem.

Fat Daddio's 8 inch round (I prefer an 8 inch to a 9 inch, but most people use 9 inch and most recipes are written for 9 inch, FYI)

6. Ninja Everyday

Okay, JOKES. The next think I would buy is actually not a pan but a whole cooking system thing. It has a rice cooker, braiser, slow cooker, pasta cooker, oatmeal setting. Is it the BEST at any of these things? No. But it does a good enough job at all of them that I think it's a great choice over buying a slow cooker or rice cooker.

Ninja Everyday Possible Cooker

Secret 7th pan: 9 x 13 pan. For cornbread, sheet cake, lasagna, bake ziti. You can make do without it, but I'd like to have it.

PYREX (french import that is still made of borosilicate glass yes yes it's very annoying that you need to go through importers to find this and so it is spendy)

I hope this helps!

[k1ttykatsu]

CHRISTMAS SUCKS- jxdn

pairings: bakugokatsuki x femblkreader !

summary: christmas sucks without you.

warnings: vouyrism, slight feet, car fingering, spit, daddy kink, missionary, doggy,choking, hair pulling. biting, scratching, slapping,choking, creampie

bakugo katsuki hates christmas. he hates the decorations, hates the cheeriness, hates the music, hates the movies but most of all…he hates the loneliness.

bakugo katsuki was already aggravated because of all his friends being so excited about the holidays but now he has to go to a christmas party hosted by shitty hair and racoon eyes?

bullshit!

“you gotta come bro, everyone’s coming, including y/n” kirishima says over the phone. bakugo rolls his eyes before thinking about it. being at a party with y/n or staying home….

“fine i’ll go” he decides he’d rather see y/n then just sit in his house drowning in sorrow. “well fyi, the dress code is ‘santa casual’”. what the fuck does that even mean?

bakugo shakes his head before closing his eyes. “the fuck is that?” he asks as he rubs his temple’s, showing obvious signs of being stressed out. “you gotta wear santa attire bro, santa hat…santa jacket, y’know” kirishima eggs on trying to get his best friend to understand.

“mkay, i got it shitty hair” bakugo doesn’t wait for kirishima to respond before hanging up on him. muttering a quick ‘fuck’ before throwing his phone on his kitchen island. bakugo had no idea what he was going to do. 

“good morning bakugo” you say cheerfully over the phone. it's currently 9:05am and bakugo just came back from his morning run, so getting your phone call was definitely unexpected.

“what’s wrong?” he sits at the kitchen island ready to hear you rant about whatever you want, because he was willing to listen only if it came from you.

“i just heard that you're coming to the christmas party.” you voice is as sweet as a honey as it flowed through his phone speakers. “yea, shitty hair roped me into going” your laugh is heard through his speakers instantly making his heart skip two beats.

“well i hope i’ll see you tonight” you say teasingly over the phone before he hangs up. bakugo let’s out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding in. he quickly stands up and walks to his room to figure out what the fuck he’s gonna wear.

he goes through his wardrobe and finds a pair of black jeans and decides to pair it with a pair of black doc’s. “santa jacket” he scoffs before rolling his eyes.

bakugo quickly picks up his phone before unlocking it and going straight to kirishimas contact.

i don’t have a santa jacket….

i knew this was gonna happen, i brought an extra one!

k

bakugo makes his way to the bathroom to take a shower. he starts to undress himself as quickly as possible so he could just get in and get out.

after his shower bakugo does his skin routine and begins to get dressed. “fuckin party” he mutters as he begins to put on his skin tight black shirt. once his pants and shirt is on he begins to put in jewelry, a simple gold chain and a gold watch.

he sprays himself with his versace men, before checking himself out in the mirror making sure he looks good.

he grabs his phone and stuffs it in his pocket before putting on his black north face, making sure he has his keys before walking out his house and into his garage. he gets in his glossy black jeep wrangler before pulling off.

loud music feels his ears as he pulls up to kirishima and mina’s shared house. “fuckin loud” he mummers to himself as we walks up to the porch, deciding not to knock on the door since nobody would hear it anyways.

“bakubroooo, welcome!” kirishima shouts as bakugo walks through the door. “shut up” bakugo shoots at him making kirishima laugh.

“the jacket is up stairs in my room, go get it” kirishima points up stairs to his room and patting bakugo’s back, sending him off.

bakugo makes his way through his bestfriends house filled with drunk sweaty people, swaying their hips to the loud non-christmas music. the smell of liquor and weed overwhelming him a bit as he walks up the short amount of steps.

bakugo makes it to the room and instantly sees the red santa jacket laying on kirishimas bed. he picks up the red jacket and puts it on before fixing it up a bit. he walks over to a full body length mirror and examines how he looks before letting out a ‘tut’.

he makes his way down stairs thinking of you made it here yet, what you're wearing, and how you're wearing it.

it was no secret that bakugo has the fattest crush since your u.a days. the two of you were definitely flirty with each other but it’s never gone further than that.

“bakugo hurry up!” mina’s chipper voice is heard through the loud crowd making bakugo roll his eyes. he makes his way through the crowd faster so he doesn’t have to hear her annoying voice again.

bakugo makes it to the group and chuckles a bit seeing his friends in costumes. “dunce didn’t get the memo?” he looks at denki’s body clad in an elf costume. denki puts his head down in shame while everyone laughs at him. but bakugo’s laughs stops when he sees you.

your body wrapped in a very short fluffy santa dress, black knee high chunky boots giving you a few extra inches but not too much. your straight black hair with white highlights being covered by a santa hat that has your name plastered on the fluffy white part.

“shit” he mutters under his breath praying to god that nobody heard him. “oh katsuki!” you make your way over to him slowly before stopping in your tracks, you throw him a big smile showing off your pearly white teeth.

“sup dumbass” you push your body against his as you pull his body into a big hug, even with your boots on you still have to tippy toe to be able to kiss him on his cheek. you feel his arms wrap around your waist  as his cheeks heat up against your lips.

“i missed you, haven’t seen you in weeks” you exclaim as you stand next to him. slowly examining his outfit as you wait for his response.

“mhm” he looked down at you throwing you a smirk that had you thanking god that he can’t see your cheeks heat up. “where’d you get the hat from?” he asked, flicking the little white fluffy ball making you let out a small giggle. “my niece made it for me” you look up with those pretty eyes that he adored so much.

he shimmy’s his wallet out his pants before going in to fish out a $2000 yen (= $20 bill.) handing you the money and smirking. “tell her to make me one with dynamite on the front.” but before you could respond he was walking away leaving you there with the money in your hand.

a couple hours later and everyone’s conversing with each other and enjoying everyone’s company but bakugo was enjoying your company the most. “the eggnog is soo good kiri!” you compliment the man’s spiked eggnog that he made. “thanks, you should offer bakubro some…he looks a little uptight” you and kirishima laugh at his words but he’s right.

you pour him a glass and walk over to the uptight man sitting on the full couch. when you make your way over to him and he looks up to you when you block his vision. “eggnog” you say simply and hand it to him with a smile. he takes it out of your hands and brings it to his lips taking a cautious sip before the cool drink floods his mouth making him want more.

he brings the cup away from his mouth and licks his lips slowly and seductively. “shits good” he says before manspreading against the couch, watching your eyes watch him. “wish i could sit and talk but it’s no space” you look around the couch at your friends talking and making out with each other.

bakugo eyes brighten up and before you know it your sitting in his lap. your eyes widen and you let out a quick gasp from him catching you off guard. “what?” he says nonchalantly as you sit sideways your back face denki and jirou who were no doubt making out, and you could see kirishima looking at you two from across the room.

you shake your head and flip your hair a bit trying to act like it didn’t affect you. you hear him chuckle before you feel your hat being snatched off your head. you turn around slightly and see katsuki putting your hat on with your name on it. “really katsuki” you whine as you fix your hair quickly.

but then you think about his teasing and if he wants to tease you could tease him back. you quickly shift your hips so now you’re straddling the man’s thick thighs. his eyes widen as his hands grip your waist.

you got em.

“what’s wrong katsu?” you ask teasingly as you shift your hips a bit making the man let out a low groan. “what are you doing, shitty woman?” his hands grip your hips harder making you whine. “katsuu, are you okay?” you whisper in his ear, your hands making their way to his face.

“nothing” he says, simply stiffening up when your hand holds his jaw. “katsu you feel hot, your face is burning up and your cheeks are so red” you sit up a bit dragging your hips a little forward making you feel what was his problem.

“oh katsuu” you giggle as you feel his hard cock from under his jeans straightening beneath your clothed cunt. he flicks your hands off his face catching you off guard, you feel his frustration seething through his body.

“i don’t know what shitty game you're playing but stop it” his voice was stern and serious making you laugh. “i’m not playing no’ game katsuki” you shoot back looking at him with a challenging look.

“y/n i’m not playing” you feel his hand sneak it’s way to your thigh, finding your underwear that sits up on your hip, playing with the stringy piece of cloth.

“kats” you say a bit breathlessly. “a thong? really?” he laughs as you look at him with confusion in your eyes. you roll your eyes before bringing your face closer to his, your hand coming up to his face, your thumb on his plump bottom lip, pulling it down before watching it snap back into place.

“such pretty lips katsu” you whisper as his hands still against your thigh. “yours is a hell of a lot prettier sweetheart” your heart skips a beat and you shift your hips making his eyes roll back. “fuck” he groans as he looks at you again, this time with lust deep inside his red irises.

“you okay katsu?” you ask as you lean forward, giving him a good look of your tits trying to escape that little number that you have on. enough is enough, katsuki has waited too long, and he doesn’t want to wait anymore.

he grips your hips and moves his head forward, smashing his plump lips against yours. your lips melt into his naturally, like you were meant to do this, your body’s moving together throughout the kiss making it more heated as the two of you suck each others tongues.

bakugo moans into your mouth as he thrust his hips into yours making you grip his hair that’s peeking from under the christmas hat tight. “katsu, pleasee” you whine in his ear as his lips trail down your neck, sucking and leaving little kisses as he meets your top left tit.

“wanna go somewhere private sweetheart?” wanna take it back to my place?” you nod your head as his lips make it back to yours. “please katsu” you moan into his mouth as he stands you up so he could situate himself.

you feel like you're on cloud, love is the only thing on your brain as he stands up and grabs your hand, bringing you along with him. “where’s your shit?” he asks as you you walk over to the bar where kirishima stands. “only came in this , my car is pretty warm” you walk over to kirishima who has this biggest smirk on his face.

“see you two made small talk” kirishima laughs at his comment before seeing bakugo roll his eyes and you inch into him some more. “um can my car stay here for the night, i suddenly got a ride” you emphasize on the ride part making kirishima laugh harder.

“yea of course, y’know i got you” before you could thank him bakugo is snatching you away from him and making a b-line for the door. you laugh at the quickness of the man and he pushes you out the door.

the cold wind making you instantly freeze up, the wind picking up your skirt as you stand in place looking for his car. “all your ass out” he mummers under his breath as he grabs your hand and drags you towards his car.

“so rough katsu” you roll your eyes before following him towards his car by force. once the two of you make it he unlocks it and opens your door before shoving you in the passenger seat before running over to the driver side.

turning on the ignition he pulls out of his parking spot and speeds off. “katsuuu, i’m hungry” you whine as he focus on the rode. “fuck, i have food at my house” he tries to bargain but you won’t budge. “i was supposed to stay and eat some of mina’s famous chicken wings, but i got dragged off instead” you taunt as your hands move there way from the car console and onto his raging hard-on.

“okay i’ll get us takeout” he says slowing down his car as he pulls over to see where the closest japanese restaurant was. since he was using only one hand you take the one closer to you and bring it to your side of the car.harmlessly.

you start to play with his fingers before bringing them closer to your body. you finally bring them down to your clothed cunt, pressing his index finger to your hot mound. you gasp loudly as his finger presses harder against you making your eyes shut tightly.

his finger slides down your soaked thong before pulling it slightly, letting it go to snap against your wet sex. “katsuki!” you moan out as you shift your hips against his finger. “you think yer’ so slick” he comments before pulling your thong down completely.

his fingers naturally go to work, splitting you open with his fingers as he begins to drive again. “if you wanted my finger, you could have just said so” he says as he makes a U turn down the street.  your sweet cries turning him on more.

as he rubs your clit you knew you were gonna have the best orgasm you’ve ever had. “katsuki!” you moan once he quickly rubs your mound. the sounds of your moans and the squelch of your pussy being the only thing heard in the car.

“pussy’s so loud baby” he looks over to you before placing a smack on your pussy. your body jolts form the impact and you let out a loud moan. “katsu please! mm so closee” you whine as you close your eyes. the pleasure catching up to you as you feel your on your last straw before you come undone.

“hurry up and cum baby” he groans lowly as he works his fingers in that tight cunt if yours (his words, not mine). “kat-” the knot in your stomach snaps as you moan katsukis name out. “that’s right baby let it out” he groans once he sees the creamy mess you left on his fingers.“i love you katsuuu” you moan out in pure pleasure and ecstasy.

“love?” that instantly snaps you out of your high, bringing you back to earth. “wha- huh?” you ask, still being a bit confused. “you just said you love me” your eyes widen as you become sober minded again.

“i-uh” is all you could say so you wouldn’t ruin this moment. your embarrassment is short lived before the car stops and you feel his lips on yours. the angle of the kiss was weird but nobody cared because the two of you were finally getting what you wanted after all these years. bakugo suddenly pulls back making you whine as he chuckles, “i love you too”

you move your body away from him and pout. “really katsuki” you hit his hand before making your way out the car. slamming the door once you're out. katsuki laughs before following you.

he hears your heels clacking against the pavement as you walk to his porch. “what’s wrong baby?” he’s all up in your personal space at this point and you allow it.

“get your gremlin ass away from me and open the door, it’s freezing” you shiver against his body as he looks down at you with a goofy smile. “love when your mean to me baby” he hugs you and gropes your ass in the process making you smile and lift one of your legs from off the ground.

“get me in the house before my ass gets frostbite” you push him away from you and laugh. he quickly gets his key out and unlocks the door before picking you up, wrapping your legs around his waist.

once he makes it to the door he kicks it closed with its foot and the door automatically locks. he walks over to his kitchen island and places you on top of it gently.

“you okay?” you as the man who just stares at you making you feel self conscious. “never thought this what happened” he sighs, taking off his shoes and leaving them at the island before picking you back up and throwing you over his shoulder.

“so embarrassing” you mutter as he walks through the house. your bare ass on full display as he kneads it in his hands. as he’s walking up the stairs you feel a rough smack placed on your ass making you shut your eyes at the impact of it. “shit” you moan as he makes it to the top of the stairs.

opening the door to his bedroom your senses are instantly overwhelmed by the scent of his natural musk. “smells like a whore house in here” you joke before your slammed down on his bed. panting from how hard the impact was.

“it was a compliment you whore” you get out as you look at him intensely. he picks up one of your feet that’s hanging off and slides the zipper of your boot all the way down before pulling it off and doing the same to the other.

your gold ankle bracelet making as ‘clank!’ sound as he throws your foot down. “such a gentleman” you joke as you separate your legs further showing off your bare sticky cunt.

“your dress should be off by the time i come back” he says before backtracking out of his room. as he makes his way downstairs you shimmy out of your dress quickly, only dressed in your red lacy bra now.

he makes his way back upstairs and his eyes instantly go to your half naked figure. “shit”.  your eyes fall on his dark figure standing in the doorway. you close your legs suddenly feeling shy from the eyes peering on you.

“don’t hide now, open them” he demands as you do what he says. he walks closer to you while taking his shirt off showing off his pecs and abs. you mentally moan at the sight. his v line being perfectly shown as he unbuckles his jeans before tugging them down harshly.

he walks closer to you, putting his hands on your knees, spreading your legs more so he could see everything.   “such a pretty pussy babe” he stares at it for a long time before backing up slowly.

“please katsu” you whine as you begin to feel yourself throb out of anticipation.  he lets out a loud laugh before climbing onto the bed just beneath you. but before he could climb over you completely your foot slams over his chest ‘softly’ stopping his actions. your gold ankle bracelet dangling off your ankle as you snarl up at him.

“you gotta kiss it first katsuu” you say playfully as you smile up at him. “shitty woman” he says before he picks your foot up admiring the white polish that covers your toes. he places a quick kiss on the top of your foot before throwing it over his shoulder.

“pretty feet you got” he says before bending down a bit. kissing the inside of your thigh before placing a long kiss on your cunt. you moan once his lips touch yours the wetness of your cunt sticking unto his lips as he comes up.

“own personal lipgloss” you laugh at your joke and before you know it you're quickly shut up by his glossy lips on top of yours. you moan at the taste of yourself on his lips. once he lets your lips go he’s shimmying out of his tight underwear finally releasing himself from the confinement.

you look down and you see him in all his glory. his cock barely sits up since it looks so heavy, the thick long veiny organ leaking with precum. “is it gonna fit?” you ask since you're really concerned that that monster wouldn’t be able to fit inside of you.

“gonna make it fit” is the last thing he says before he brings his hand up to your lips. you look at him in a confused manner before he uses his thumb to play with your bottom lip. “spit on it” he opens his hand back before watching you pucker your lips, the glob of spit lands in his palm making him visibly thrust into the air.

he brings the same hand to his mouth letting a glob of spit fall from his lips as well before using it as lube to fist his cock. “shit” his hips stutter as he finally lets go. your eyes widen at the glistening cock that he holds in his hand. he takes it and nudges it against your clit catching you completely off guard, a loud whine coming from your mouth as he slaps his heaving cock against your cunt.

“so heavy katsuu” you whine as he continues to do so. a nasty smirk sits upon his lips as pulls your hands down and scooting his hips forward so you could grab his spit covered cock.

“put it in” he states with a changed expression now. his face holds concentration as he watches your every move. you don’t hesitate to grip his dick a little harder making sure it stays in your grip as you begin to slip it in.

as you guide his dick inside yourself you feel him start to push in, making you eyes flutter shut the deeper he goes. “tight” he hissed as pushes in further and further. he feels you clench against making him jerk his hips into you pushing himself further in.

“kats!” you scream as you feel him impaling you. “so sorry baby” he whispers as he brings his head to your neck leaving kisses along it to try to distract you. “you gotta let me in '' he says in pure agony.

he finally bottoms out inside of you making your eye and your toes curl. “shit” bakugo hisses as he grips your hips to stop himself from fucking into you. “yer’ ready? can’t keep me waiting all day” he says through gritted teeth.

you nod your head as your eyes begin to water. “please” you whine as he begins to fuck into you. hips colliding as he fuck into your tight cunt. “so tight, clenching around me like that” he bends down and grabs your throat as he watches your tits bounce from the impact.

“so good for daddy” he mutters as your eyes close from the overwhelming pleasure that he gives you with each thrust. suddenly you feel your face start to sting instantly making your eyes shoot open. “keep your eyes on me” he grabs your face and makes you look up at him.

“sorry katsu” you whine as you feel yourself nearing your orgasm. “close katsu!” you shout as you feel your legs begin to shake. katsuki wasn’t having that.

he quickly pulls out of you, but before you could whine he’s flipping you over. grabbing your hair and pushing your head into the mattress before forcing himself back into you.

“katsuki!” your scream is muffled as he fucks you into the mattress. “best pussy i’ve ever had baby” he moans into the air making you clench around him. two smacks are placed on your ass before he’s pulling you up by your hair before switching off to your neck.

“own this pussy baby, only mine…no one else’s” you scream out his name before he throws you back down. you feel yourself getting closer making you clench around his cock. “m’ close babe” he says before pushing your back down into the mattress. “fuckin love you” is the last thing you hear before your seeing white.

your toes curl as you scream to the top of your lungs. pretty sure the neighbors in the next house could hear you. “creaming my cock babe” he says, overstimulating you as he chases his own high. sweat dripping from his forehead as he gives his last final, hard thrust.

a slew of moans, curse words and your name coming from his lips as he paints your insides white. you moan his name loud and strong just from the feeling of his hot seed filling you up.

“love you katsuki” you whine into his sheets as you feel him rub your back, drawing little circle into it as he pulls out of your and laying down next to you. “look at me” he sternly says before tapping your ass slightly.

he sees your pretty eyes as you lift your head from the sheets. he looks at you with love and admiration in his eyes. “best fuck ever” he says before chuckling into the hot muggy air.

“is that all i am to you katsu?” you ask genuinely, not knowing what this all meant. you're not high off your orgasm anymore so your mind is clear enough to think about the consequences or a new founded relationship.

he stops chuckling and his face instantly goes blank. how could you insinuate that? he doesn’t blame you but you should know he loves you, adores you even. “y/n, i love you” he takes your hand into his and brings it to his lips to kiss it. “do you want to be my fuckin girlfriend?” he says with a snarky attitude like you should know that your his now.

a small smile takes over your lips as you giggle. “yes katsuki, i’ll be your girlfriend” he brings your sweaty body closer to his and placing a kiss on top of your head.

“fuckin better”

merry christmas/happy holidays to all!!! please enjoy this fic! my gift to you🫶🏾 love kay!

[dearhargrove]

Hii can you do Ethan x Reader where reader grew up with Ethan and his family so she was always close with him and Quinn and they go to the same college and are in Tara’s group but when they go to the party reader gets really drunk and Ethan takes care of her and the next morning reader thanks Ethan and they end up confessing 🫶🫶 (can have slight smut at the end if you want)

Let me care for you

Ethan Landry x fem!reader (but isn't specified I think)

summary You're drunk - your eyes unfocused and mind working at 0.5 speed. But one thing you knew for certain was that Ethan Landry was half-carrying you to your dorm and taking care of you.

word count 1426

warnings swearing, alcohol

a/n this was so cute! I wrote this dead tired and google docs wouldn't spell check, so if there's any errors tell me pls <3 otherwise enjoy! Oh, also: I know I made Ethan a lil more confident than he probably is canonically BUT him and reader have known each other for so long he's just comfortable around her and doesn't second-guess himself! Hope y'all don't mind and I also don't think it's that apparent, anyway

masterlist

navigation

You were drunk. Wasted, even. There were other students surrounding you, dancing and drinking, some you even knew from a random class or seeing them around campus. Well, right now? You weren't seeing anyone - at least not clearly. Your vision was fuzzy from the shots you'd drank pretty much the second you had gotten here with Tara and the rest of the group.

The party was fun and the music was good, the alcohol even better. So far you hadn't thought about your unfinished assignments and essays, you'd left all the stress in your dorm after pregaming with Quinn (and Ethan warily watching).

You were stumbling through the living room and kitchen, trying to decide whether to find another drink or just dance for now. However that decision was made for you when you arrived in the kitchen to see the few people there browse through bottles - all empty.

“Wait, they're out?” You drunkenly slur, glancing at the boy that was standing at the kitchen island next to you. You just barely hear his laugh, “Yeah.”

That's where the conversation had ended in your book, but he turns around and faces you, a grin on his face. “I haven't seen you around here?” You stop in your movements and look at him in your peripheral vision, hoping he'd take the hint and notice your definite disinterest.

He didn't.

“You don't wanna talk to me, princess?” He teases, though even in your drunken state you hear the slight aggravation in his voice. “No, sorry,” you dismiss and turn to leave the kitchen. He yells an insult after you and in turn you hold up your middle finger without looking back. Great, now your good mood is ruined.

Pursing your lips you look around the full hallway and living room, trying to spot at least one or your friends. How did they manage to turn invisible? You frown and stumble along a wall, your hand on it supporting you as you pass by a random couple making out (you don't know if the bile in your throat is from the copious amounts of alcohol you'd drank or these two but you're pretty sure it's the latter).

You don't know if you're imagining it or not but you can hear your name being called in a familiar fashion. You squint your eyes in suspicion and do a quick twirl, surveying the people. You regret that immediately, remembering why exactly you never moved that hastily while intoxicated. “Oh, God…” you lean over and heave, silently begging to whoever would hear you to let you get to a bathroom before vomiting on the floor of this frat house.

You feel a hand appear on your back, casually stroking along it in hopes to calm you down. Your brows crease and you're about to lash out at whoever thought they had the right to be touching you when you see the familiar pair of shoes and recognize the voice.

Ethan!

You look to the side and upwards, seeing the curly hair covered with the dorky cardboard knight helmet from his last minute costume (that you had helped him with!). He has a worried frown on his face and is talking but you don't hear him, focused on his unhappy expression. Who made him upset? Who did you have to have a word with?

You swallow and stabilize yourself on the wall again before straightening up, him copying your movement with his hand now on your shoulder.

With determination to make him happy again you reach out and press your thumb on the frown, trying to smooth it out. “Why is it not- Ethan. No frowning.” You warn when your thumb doesn't do the job.

There's a flicker of surprise on his face and then he laughs, “How much did you have to drink tonight?” It makes you giggle and you shake your head with a finger on your mouth, “It's a secret.”

He raises his eyebrows and then his hands in mock surrender, “Alright, alright. I won't tell anyone. If I hadn't seen you dry heave I wouldn't have had a clue you had something to drink.”

You squint your eyes again but decide to believe him. Then the music you'd ignored faded back in and you groan, really not a fan of the way you could feel the vibration of the bass in your gut (you were a hair's width away from puking, this was not making it any better).

“Hey lovie, let's get you home?” Ethan suggests and puts an arm loosely around your waist. He never held you tightly, always loose enough that you could just slip out of his hold if you wanted to.

You see this as an offer and lean your full body weight against him, mumbling about going home and being happy to see him after wandering around this house, unable to find anyone.

He catches and holds you up with ease, gently guiding you to what you guessed was the front door (could've been a window and you wouldn't have batted an eye) before leading you outside.

Cold, crisp air surrounds you and suddenly you can breathe again, the music only in the background.

“Fresh air is great, isn't it?” He asks with amusement and you manage a glare that makes him grin.

“Alright, I'll help you walk home.”

-

Now, almost an hour later, you're back in your dorm. The small, dimmed lights around the room are turned on and Ethan is busying himself, cleaning (you guessed, he was mainly moving stuff around and then putting it back).

You simply sit on your bed, hands under your thighs and feet swinging as you watch him, only looking away when his quick movements overwhelm your drunk brain.

“Alright, come here. You can't sleep in that,” he finally says, holding a shirt (your favorite!) and sleep shorts in his hands. Instead of complying you cross your arms and eye him up and down, “and why can I not sleep in this?” Your party outfit is… well, a party outfit. Apart from the overall vibe and fit there was definitely some liquor that had burned its way into the fabric.

“Because it smells like tequila and you'll hate me tomorrow if I let you lay in bed with it,” he calmly explains and nonchalantly kneels in front of you to help you take off your shoes.

Your eyes are droopy and teary as well as a dull pulsing at the back of your head. You're almost asleep by now, having been convinced to change and get ready for bed (Ethan had gently but clumsily cleaned off your make up with some wipes and then you'd tiredly brushed your teeth and changed).

But, even now with you already in bed, he was still here, back against Quinn's bed and sitting on the floor.

Cuddled under your blanket you blink tiredly at him, “Eth?” He looks up from his phone and looks at you attentively. You just take him and his cute costume in for a second before a warm smile appears on your face. “Thanks. You don't have to do this but you do anyway…”

You seem to surprise him with that and he puts his phone down, “Nothing to thank me for.” You smile warmly, no strength to phrase how thankful you actually felt.

“I'm glad it's you. Taking care of me.” You admit, the haze of drunkenness fading with the time and water you've chugged. “I'm glad too.”

You're staring into his brown eyes, the light of your desk lamp illuminating them beautifully as he smiles at you, this time a bit more shy.

“Eth?” You mumble and you two just look at each other before he gets up and you lift the blanket. He lays down with his back facing the door and yours facing the wall, a palm coming to rest on your cheek.

“I'm happy you're my best friend.” He says, but there's a slight hesitancy as he says the last thing.

Maybe it was the buzz from the drinks or just the vibe of right now but you lean in and press your mouth to his. You're both too out of it and tired to do more than this, smiles in between short pecks.

It was sweet, no words needed to be exchanged between you to know what this meant.

You would talk about it in the morning with both your heads clear, but for now all you needed was to be cuddled against his chest, his hand lazily stroking along your back.

[rxqueenotd]

I teased (very briefly) that I would be writing a fic from the POV of one of Daniel Molloy’s daughters. Basically that has consisted of me throwing random dialogue and ideas into word docs and vomiting them at @nyheartbreak every other day. I’m going to slap some teasers below and just put out some feelers and hope that maybe this catches some traction:

"What... exactly are you doing?" Naomi asked, her steps echoing on the apartment floor as she tried to contain the nervous energy bubbling within her. Fingernails grazed her teeth, a physical manifestation of the apprehension she felt, while her father's voice continued on the other end of the call.

"Open the files. I emailed them to you a few days ago," he explained with a sense of urgency. "Listen to them and find the plot holes. You're a pro at that," he added. "Spotting plot holes."

"And you excel at creating them," she retorted smugly. "Last time we spoke, you dropped the Parkinson's bomb, and now you're gallivanting halfway across the world during a global pandemic."

A heavy sigh emanated from the other end of the call. "Listen, kid, I'm fine. I'm getting treatment here," he reassured her, his attempts falling slightly short. "Just give the files a listen. I know work's been iffy with this pandemic."

She scoffed. "I'm freelancing," she stated, with a brief pause before adding, "And planning your funeral for when you inevitably disregard more health protocols and kick the bucket."

"Like I said," he reiterated, "I'm fine. I'm invincible."

"Can you at least time it for fall?" she quipped. "I have this stunning Chanel dress perfect for a funeral—it screams autumn elegance."

"Listen to the files, Naomi," his tone turned serious. "You'll thank me."

"Sure, sure," she agreed, acknowledging her lack of better options. "I'll listen tonight and share my thoughts this weekend."

"Thanks, kid," he lingered on the line a moment longer before ending the call.

"You're welcome," Naomi muttered to herself, retrieving her laptop from its designated spot on the kitchen counter.

____________________________________________

Another snippet:

"By the way, he did read my diary," Naomi announced casually, glancing over at Louis and Armand, who were nestled together on the loveseat, both tilting their heads at her spontaneous confession.

"One of you brought it up before," she gestured with her hand, "I forget who, but someone made the comparison between reading Claudia's diaries and my dad reading mine."

"I paid for that big time," Daniel interjected, rolling his eyes and adjusting his glasses.

"On October twenty-seventh, nineteen thirty-two, I quote, 'What mysteries we are, human, vampire, monster, mortal, that we can love and hate simultaneously, and that emotions of all sorts might not parade for what they are not,'" Naomi recited with precision. "I have a good memory."

"If you swap 'vampire' and 'monster' for 'transient father,' mine and Claudia's entries aren't much different," Naomi chuckled. "Except I left mine out on purpose for him to read."

"And you're admitting this because?" Armand inquired, leaning forward with folded hands resting on his knees.

"Because you seem to draw comparisons almost as threats," Naomi observed, her gaze lingering on his impeccably chiseled face, pondering what he might be concealing. "Bringing up Alice, my sister, Paris, the proposal, and whatever else you can extract from his addled brain," she motioned towards Daniel, who smirked back at Armand. "To me, that's a defense mechanism, especially considering that this interview is between my dad and Louis exclusively."

"And yet," Armand waved his hand gracefully, "here you are."

Naomi grinned at him. "And here you are."

Daniel cleared his throat as Naomi leaned back, finally easing into her seat.

"Let's move on," Daniel suggested, prompting Louis to release a soft chuckle, gazing at Naomi as if he were beholding Claudia once more, reincarnated, and giving Armand hell all over again.

____________________________________________

Thoughts? Opinions? Comments?

[xsweetcatastrophe]

You Broke Me First

part 31

Zoe opened the front door and let Scout trot in first, breathing a sigh of relief as the cool air from the house hit her hot sweaty skin.

She thought it was a good idea to take scout on a run. she didn’t check the weather prior; it was NOT a good idea.

it was 2pm and she hadn’t heard from Cillian all day, besides the text she woke up to from him saying he was awake and on his way go set. She also checked her email religiously, hoping to see the schedule from Hannah, but nothing yet.

She hopped in the shower and changed into leggings and a t-shirt she stole from Cillian's drawer. She had big plans of sitting in the kitchen and finishing up some articles, as well as attempting to eat something. She was nauseous again the better half of the morning, plus her eating schedule had been all off due to living between two different places and scheduling furniture deliveries. Plus, stress at her job and deadlines looming and not being anywhere close to where she needed to be with her assignments and articles wasn't helping. However, the furniture has all been delivered and placed, 99% of the boxes have been unpacked, internet has been hooked up and the house was now feeling like a home.

She sat at the kitchen counter with her laptop in front of her. She grabbed an apple and a jar of peanut butter and a knife and placed it beside her. She fired up her laptop and checked her emails, perking up when she saw one from Hannah.

Hey Zoey, see attached schedule for this week. TY - Hannah Woods VP, PR Strategist / Executive Assistant to Cillian Murphy Elite Talent & Public Relations cell: (213) 555-0808 HWoods@elite.com

Okay, cool. I'm going to ignore how she spelled my name, it's a common typo, Zoe thought.

But... did she really have to add "Assistant to Cillian Murphy" to her email signature? Is this permanent? What's a VP doing as a personal-excuse me, executive assistant? She wondered.

She opened the attachment and it was... not what she was expecting. it was a simple word doc, with days bolded and shooting times next to it. For some reason, Zoe thought there would be something more... professional?

Is this how Tarantino does his shooting schedules? Zoe thought.

She looked at the assigned day and saw that he was shooting from 7am - 8pm.

Zoe did the math in her head and concluded it was 10pm where he was. Was it too late for a call?

Weird, why wouldn't he text or call me when he was done? She thought.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Scout barking, wanting to go out in the yard. Zoe stood up, stretched her legs and opened the sliding glass door outside to the backyard. She followed Scout onto the deck where the plopped down on a deck chair and reclined back, letting the sun hit her face, thinking about if she should call him or not. She sighed and pushed the paranoid thoughts to the back of her mind and opened her phone.

~

"Let's wrap it up here, guys" Cillian heard once they finished a scene. Cillian relaxed his shoulders and unclenched his jaw. relaxing as much as he could back into himself.

The first couple days back were always the toughest, he spent so long as himself it took him a couple days to snap back into Tommy. Tommy and Cillian were two completely different people, with Tommy being an extremely violent person, the complete opposite of Cillian. It was hard sometimes, but in a way, so rewarding. He truly loved his job.

Cillian made his way back to his trailer, unbuttoning his shirt as he walked up the steps, pushing open the door.

"Hello!" Hannah said, standing up from the kitchen booth. Cillian jumped, not expecting to see her there.

"Oh, hey Hannah," Cillian said, smiling. All he wanted to do was get a shower, call Zoe and sleep.

"I have some stuff to go over with you once you're done in the shower," Hannah said, looking down at her notepad. "But, you have a cast dinner scheduled this evening. In an hour, actually. So..."Hannah said, motioning to the bathroom door, insinuating to get to it.

"Is the dinner necessary? I'm beat," Cillian said.

"Yes, Stephen requested it. He wants them more often actually, to strengthen the bond of the cast."

"Strengthen the bond...? We're in season six, i think we're all bonded," Cillian mumbled. He sighed and stretched his back, hearing a few pops and wincing at the sound. He was truly beat. "Alright. I'll shower, but do me a favor will ya?" He said, walking towards the bathroom. "you still have my phone, yea? Text Zoe for me and tell her i'll text her later when I'm home."

Hannah smiled. "Of course Cillian."

Hannah waited until Cillian got into the shower to look at his phone. As she expected, there was a text from Zoe.

Zoe: Hey babe - how was today? We miss you.

Hannah rolled her eyes. Gross. She thought for a couple minutes then responded:

Cillian: Hey. working late - i'll talk to u when i can.

Hannah hit send then deleted the entire message thread. As soon as she swiped out of the messages, She heard the shower turn off.

Cillian emerged shortly after, in sweatpants and a t-shirt.

"Wardrobe sent over some jeans and a white button down shirt for the dinner," Hannah said, pointing to the clothes laid out for him.

"Thanks," he replied, "did you get a chance to text Zoe for me?"

"Sure did!" Hannah said, smiling. "She said she'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Cillian said, furrowing his eyebrows. "We wrapped at 5 today. I'll get to her when I get out of the dinner I guess, Thanks H," He said, walking over to the clothes on the counter.

"No problem," Hannah said, standing up. "Oh and Cill?" She said, turning to facing him. "It's not my place, but you should really consider deleting all your texts in your phone. It's not just a privacy issue, obviously if you lose your phone and someone breaks in they can read all your messages, but it's also taking up a lot of memory.... it makes your phone run slow," She said, struggling to end that sentence. She wasn't sure if it made the phone run slow or not, but she just needed an excuse to keep deleting messages.

"Really? I figured phones nowadays have no memory limit... but what do I know, I'm horrible with technology," Cillian replied.

"Yea!!" Hannah said, almost laughing. She couldn't believer how dumb men are.

"Yea I'm horrible with technology?? you're fired," Cillian joked.

"No no! I'm agreeing with you that phones nowadays.. should be limitless when it comes to memory," Hannah scrounged up. "Unfortunately we're not there yet.... it's all in the little booklet that comes with the phone."

"Cillian raised an eyebrow, pulling the shirt over his head. "People read those?"

Hannah blinked. "I read those... But you know me. I love a contract!"

"Oh" Cillian said somberly. "Well, you're in charge. Delete it then. And just hold onto my phone for me until the dinner will ya? I'm still so off from the flight and I'm still jet lagged and it's a miracle i can remember my lines. I'll come grab it after dinner."

"Sure thing, Cill! Francisco is waiting for you in hair, I gave him a heads up about you going to the dinner and asked if he could do your hair, so he's ready when you are," Hannah smiled sweetly.

"Thanks, I don't know what the hell to do with this," Cillian sighed, running his fingers through the haircut he hated so badly. He grabbed his boots and made his way out the door.

Hannah waited until Cillian was out of sight before pulling up her laptop. She spent all afternoon drafting up a fake schedule to send to Zoe in Microsoft Word. She wanted to get a jump start on the one for next week.

Shooting tomorrow didn't start until 10am tomorrow, which would be 2am Zoe's time. Shooting was supposed to end at 8pm tomorrow, but Zoe doesn't have to know that...

And now that she has control of Cillian's phone and can delete messages, this will be easier than she thought it would be.

First things first, she pulled out her cell and dialed her contact at DailyMail.

"Hey Tara, it's Hannah over at Elite... I have a tip for you. Tonight the Peaky Blinders cast is going out for dinner and drinks to celebrate the start of shooting the new season..." She said, smiling to herself.

"Heard it's gonna get a little wild. Cillian Murphy has to let off some steam and he plans on going full Tommy tonight. Think it can make tomorrow's press?"

tags:

@lau219 @cillianinlove @vervainandspritz @supershadowymiraclestudent @borntodiemp3 @cillianmurphyvevo @shopgirl6us

[monsterswithimagines]

Undisclosed Desires - Part 16

Joe Goldberg x female!Reader

Summary: Twenty minutes before he would have met Guinevere Beck, Joe meets you instead. You intruige him, but it will soon become clear that there is something off about you.

Words: 1436

Masterlist

You told me you were insecure, but I didn't really believe you.

Girls - women - say they're insecure because they think being confident is the same as bragging. They see a woman walk confidently down the street, and they consider it being slutty.

Don't believe me, (Y/n)? Just think. When an insecure woman gets raped, she is a victim. Her life is ruined. But when a confident woman gets raped, she asked for it. She ruined the man's life. Women really think like this. It's all #girlpower and #badbitches until somebody gets hurt.

But you? You don't think like that.

And you really were insecure. I can tell because you're finally gaining some confidence, and it makes a world of difference. You give your opinion to your coworkers. You go outside without spending an hour staring at yourself in the mirror (you rarely wore make-up anyway, but you used to worry about your hair).

And you're writing. A lot.

You say you're not ready for me to read your stories, but you use Google Docs, which means everything is right there on your phone. You can't blame me for sneaking a peak when you go take a shower. Really, you want me to.

I don't know what you were talking about when you said you couldn't write. Your stories are amazing. You are wasting your talents, working in marketing.

The story you're writing right now is about a glass labyrinth. A girl has been walking through it for as long as she can remember. She can't find the exit. Then one day, she meets a boy on the other side of the wall. They try to walk the same route, hoping to eventually find a way to be together, but they never do. At least not where you're at, yet.

But I know they'll find each other eventually, (Y/n), because the story is really about us. All of your stories are about us. About being distant, and then coming together.

You're writing about us being from different countries, and then finding each other. You have to be. It's all one big metaphor.

I love your stories.

You're not fighting with your mom anymore, which is good because it means you are in an infinitely better mood lately. Even when you're grumpy, you don't shut me out anymore - you want me as close as possible, all the time. When I'm working and you're not, you even hang out at the bookstore.

You also want to see my apartment. You think it's weird that you haven't before. So one night, I clean up and I invite you over. I cook for you. It turns out bad, but you praise me because it's been forever since you ate anything homecooked.

You love my apartment. You love my old typewriters (you learn all their names in less than an hour) and you love that even though it's one room, it still feels like the living room, bedroom and kitchen are seperate rooms. You love that all my stuff is secondhand and old. You even love Paco, who comes over halfway through the dinner which I failed to cook.

His mom and Ron are fighting again, and you tell Paco that Ron sounds “like a dick”. But when Ron comes banging at my door, you smile sweetly and say you think Paco's just the nicest kid and get me out of a lecture because Ron thinks it's just fine for Paco to be here if there's a girl like you around, apparently.

I meet your grandparents. Not in person, of course. One day your grandma facetimes you while I'm over at yours, and you turn my phone and tell me to wave, and then your grandfather asks me a thousand questions. You don't have a dad, but your grandfather is like one. And I think he approves of me.

Basically, everything about our relationship is falling into place. But then:

“I'm going home for Christmas.”

My world shatters.

“Home?” I ask. Maybe, just maybe, you mean something other than what I think you mean.

“To The Netherlands,” you say. You pause. “My grandmother really wants me there.”

This is the worst. This is insane. You can't just go that far away from me. Anything could happen to you!

I say: “isn't Christmas three months away? Why are you telling me already?”

Like I don't care. Like I hadn't even thought about Christmas.

“Well, I don't want you to make plans for us, or anything.”

I already made plans. We were going to have dinner with Mr. Mooney. It would have been incredibly depressing, but you have to meet him at some point because he's the closest thing I have to family. Then, I was going to take you on a carriage ride, and we were going to watch Shakespeare in the park because you've read Macbeth, but you didn't get it and really, (Y/n), I love books but Shakespeare was a playwright and his words weren't meant to be read, they were meant to be experienced.

It's how you claim you don't like romantic comedies, but really you just don't like romance novels. I know if you watched Hannah and her sisters with me, you'd love it. You'd recognize that romantic comedies are art. But you are stubborn.

“When are you going?” I ask.

“December ninth.”

“How long are you going?”

“Until January third.”

I have to live without you for almost an entire month?!

“And you can just take that much time off?”

“I’m using all my days at once,” you say. “Plus some unpaid time. And I promised not to take any vacation during the summer next year. So.” You clear your throat. “I’m sorry.”

“No, you have to go be with your family,” I say. “I get it.”

And I do get it, but that doesn’t mean it’s not also the worst thing you could have done to me. Because you are not inviting me.

And I swear, sometimes it’s like you read my mind:

“Next time I go to The Netherlands, I’m inviting you, I promise.”

“Okay.”

“It’s just that if I invite you now, my grandparents are going to think it’s way too soon. They’ll think I’m just like my mother, and I’m supposed to be different, you know?”

You talk about your grandparents like they are your parents, and your mother like she is a sister who set the wrong tone within your family. Someone you have to outdo. I don’t understand the dynamic within your family and I don’t pretend to understand it. I just stare at you until you continue:

“She’s, like, a serial dater. She’s only with a guy until he loves her, and then she fucks him, and then she leaves him. When I was a kid there was a new man around basically every week. It’s more like every month now, but still.”

You are not like your mother, (Y/n). I know because I love you, and here you are. And also, we’re not having sex. It’s not because you say no, anymore. Now, I’m the one putting it off. I have a plan for us.

“That sounds like it was hard.”

“My grandparents tried to get custody of me,” you say. “It was a whole thing.” You take a deep breath. “But yeah. So I really thought about inviting you, but I don’t want them to get the wrong idea. They’ve seen you now. I want them to hear about you more. To think of you as a guy who’s sticking around. Before they meet you in person, I mean.”

And you know what? I love that. I understand why you’re not inviting me.

I still hate it, but it does make sense.

“Okay,” I say. “Well, I can’t say I’m not disappointed that we’re not spending Christmas together, but I get it.”

“Do you have plans for Thanksgiving?”

“Not really,” I say. Mr. Mooney doesn’t believe in Thanksgiving and you’re not American, so it’s not like I have anybody to celebrate with. And anyway, it’s a holiday meant to deify white people invading a country and killing most of the population through semi-accidental biological warfare. What’s there to celebrate.

“Let’s make Thanksgiving our Christmas this year,” you say.

“Okay.”

It won't be the same. There is no Shakespeare in the park on Thanksgiving, because everybody will be watching football. But I'll just have to come up with something else.

“I can't believe we're making plans for Thanksgiving two months in advance.”

“I'm Dutch,” you say. “Be glad we're not having the Christmas conversation in March.”

[arduadastra]

Hi! I fell at work yesterday and broke my wrist so I was just wondering how the pedro boys would react?

Idk if your requests are open or not but if they aren't, I'm sorry!

✨My Masterlist ✨ / ✨ Send me a prompt ✨

It has been almost a YEAR since I wrote for this blog and I can only apologize for taking so long to get to this (but i did get engaged!)

My requests were indeed open and still are so don't apologize and hope your wrist is OK now ❤️! I'm starting slow so I've picked Joel and Javi but lemme know who else to do - hope you enjoy ✨)

Warnings: Minor description of a broken wrist and relevant care, swearing.

Joel Miller 🐴

You blamed Tommy. Ever since you guys came to his place and settled in, he had you working almost immediately. It started small, little kitchen jobs, which showed how much you hated kitchen work, and ended where you are now - the stables.

Animals were far better than people, great listeners and easy to take care of and you had come to love showing up to see your boys in the morning. You had felt uneasy at first, after being on the road with Joel and Ellie so long, not being with them felt wrong but now, a few months in, you had grown into your own little routine (even if Joel was grumpy with the early morning wake up each morning).

Issue was, while horses were better than people in almost every way, they definitely had the temper of one and after a poorly timed saddle tightening, you found yourself thrown backwards onto the ground after a particularly hard shove from Shimmer's head. Even worse, you hadn't quite landed right and now your right wrist was radiating unimaginable pain.

Joel was going to be pissed.

More annoyed at yourself than anything else you started the walk back to you and Joel's home, wondering how long you can keep a broken wrist secret from the guy before he got suspicious. As you entered you noted his boots by the door and sighed - guess your secret wasn't safe for long.

Hearing the door open, Joel was already making his way towards you. He had been on patrol, you could tell from the mud caking his jeans just below the knee and the few fresh cuts around his hairline and nose. He was looking at you intently, eyes narrowed and surveying your form until he landed at your cradled arm, "What's that then?"

You shrug, trying to make your way past him as nonchalant as possible "Pissed shimmer off with a tight saddle. They just knocked it, i'll be fine."

Joel moved, for a guy so tall and wide you forget how fast he can be and he blocks the entry way, "Show me." You roll your eyes, "Joel, honestly it's nothing, I'm going to shower and th-" his large palm wraps around your lower forearm and you hiss. He grunts, "thought so" He leaves, disappearing into the kitchen and opening drawers. You resign yourself to his care and seat yourself in the living room awaiting his return.

Soon enough, Joel comes back with pressure dressing and medical tape and seats himself beside you, his hair has slightly fallen in front of his face so you push it aside gently with your other hand. His face hints at a smile before adjusting his position and begins wrapping your wrist, "We'll go to the doc after this, just don't want it jostlin' on the way there. No use making it worse." You nod, watching him as he finishes up before he finally looks up to meet your eye and asks softly, "You alright?" You smile, leaning forward to kiss his forehead, his eyes falling closed, "Yeah baby, I'm OK." He exhales, fingers tracing your knee, their heat trailing a path across your skin making you shudder, "Good. Let's get going."

Javier Pena 🥃

Javi is a tough one. This guy works in Columbia, he is no stranger to injuries or injured people and while he cares deeply for those he's close to, he's definitely not one to show it in the moment - especially on the job.

You end up breaking your wrist pretty bad after jumping from the rooftop, so bad in fact you swore you could see the bone underneath the thin skin of your wrist but when you're chasing a wanted criminal through the streets, there isn't really time to slow down and check. You keep running, Javi not far behind you, and as you turn a corner the step down from pavement to road jerks your wrist which rips a pained cry from your throat. Luckily, Steve got a much better head start than you two and you see him deck the guy in the middle of the marketplace, his body flying back with a thud as Steve crows with delight, "You guys see that shit?!"

You're panting, sweat dripping from your forehead (and a lot of other places) as you laugh before gingerly sitting down, curling yourself inward with your wrist balanced across your raised knees. You hear Javi slow behind you, his presence a searing hot shadow across your back, "You OK down there querida?" You shake your head, "Nah, think its broken. Landed pretty rough off that roof a block or so back, didn't want to stop but think i made it worse." You're almost certain the adrenaline coursing through you is making the pain duller so you dread how much this will hurt, "I'll get up in a sec, just need to catch my breath."

You hear muttering but you don't quite catch it as Javi moves away, now walking over to Steve and you can't help but admire the shoulder muscles bunching under his now drenched shirt as he helps move the guy into a car. Once Steve drives off, Javi goes to his own car. He opens the passenger side door, dropping stuff from the seat into the foot well, before making his way back over to you. He checks back over his shoulder and you follow the gaze. You notice he's checking the streets, making sure no one else is wandering around but looks as if all the commotion has faded off - anyone still lurking is going about their own business, unaffected by the events that occurred only a few minutes prior. Seemingly satisfied, Javi turns his attention back to you, offering a hand to help ease you up slowly and you make your way to his car.

You realize he hasn't said anything since he left to talk to Steve, you seat yourself down as he shuts the door and makes his way to the drivers side, "Javi, are you alright? I'm sorry about this but I swear it wont happen again. I just slipped is all and Steve caught the guy so no harm done, right?"

Javi had begun to put the key in the ignition but is now stuck with his hand on it. With the engine idle he asks, "No harm done?" You nod, "Yeah, the guy is on route back to the office, Steve will question him and hopefully we're one step closer to Escobar."

Suddenly, Javi jerks back, body hitting the leather seat behind him as he white knuckles the steering wheel, "No harm done? You broke your fucking wrist. Middle of a goddamn chase and you don't even stop, don't let me know, just keep going head first into fuckin' stupidity probably making it ten times worse by chasing the fucker and then you sit there apologizing like you did something wrong. " He pinches the bridge of his nose, exhaling roughly and fiddling with his breast pocket for a cigarette, "You're reckless and I can't be worrying about you out there, I have to trust you." He's found the cigarette now, lighting up and puffing out the open window, he turns to you and you suck in a breath at the fear in his eyes, "I can't see you hurt sweetheart, you're my goddamn weakness and I can't show that shit to these guys - you understand me?"

You nod, hand coming out to rest on his knee, "Yeah honey, I got you. I'm sorry. I promise to be more careful next time." He stares at you a beat longer, mouth twitching before leaning in to crush his lips on yours. He pulls away, lips brushing your forehead before skirting your wrist in an action too gentle for a man that's killed so many others, "Good."

〜💫〜💫〜💫〜💫〜

Pedro’s thirsty thots tags (hi again guys, ive missed you)

Please let me know if you want to be added or removed <3

@evyiione @rattlethe-stars @asta-lily @ironbabey @woollybantha @tobealostwanderer @mamacitapascal @letterfromvienna @buttercup–bee @kenoobiwan @bastillealmighty @neganwifey25-blog @djarinsbeskar @lovesickmadsadpoet

[silver138]

Perfectly Flawed - Chapter 3

word count - 1.4k

warnings - cursing, bad flirting attempt?

Summary: Lina (tries) to flirt.

Waking up before my alarm for a change, I get out of bed take a shower, and dress. After putting on my makeup and straightening my hair, I grab the first two books of The Dresden Files and toss them into my bag. "You're up early. You that excited for work, Lina?" I turn and see Val in the doorway to her room, yawning and scratching her head. I just shrug and smile at her. "If you give me, like, 20 minutes, I can take you to work today..." she starts, turning around to walk back into her room.

"Ah, no, that's ok! I-I don't mind taking the metro! It-it's...kinda nice..." I say quickly. She stops and turns around, walking towards me with a smirk on her face.

"OK, spill it, who is he?" she says, leaning against the kitchen counter.

"I-I don't know what you mean, Vallie. Can't I just be in a good mood...and-and want to take public transportation? OK, yeah, that sounded lame, even to me..." I mutter.

She raises her eyebrows and says, "Well, I'm glad you realize what you said was bullshit. Anyway, the guy?"

"I-I...why do you think I like someone? Isn't it possible I've just made a bunch of friends, and that's why I'm excited?" I offer.

She snorts and says, "While I know you're a fuckin' ray of sunshine, this is exactly how you act every time you get a crush. You did it with Carl, you did it with Jim..."

"And they weren't interested and became my friends, so..." I counter.

"Uh-huh. Sure. Well, who's the new 'friend', then?" she says.

I sigh and say, "Spencer Reid. Um, Doctor Spencer Reid."

She walks over and nudges my shoulder with hers, "Hey, hey, a doctor, huh? ...Wait, a doctor works with the feds?" she asks.

I nod, saying "Yeah, he's got, like, 3 PhDs. I'm not sure in what yet, I could probably ask him when I see him..."

She raises her eyebrows and nudges me again. "So, what does this Doctor Spencer Reid look like? He cute?" she says, walking back to the counter.

I give a shy smile and say, "I-um, yeah, I think so, at least. Definitely my type..."

Val nods and says with a smile, "Ah, gotcha. Scrawny and tall."

I huff and say, "I wouldn't say scrawny. Slender, maybe..."

Val hums and says, "Mmm, well, if I know you, you're off to buy something for breakfast, getting two so you can say they 'accidentally' gave you an extra one and offering it to him. Oh, or are you lending him something to borrow?"

I open my mouth to protest, but she just gives me a look, and I look down as I put my shoes on and say, "Um, both. I'm also lending him books to read."

"Wow, going in with both barrels, you are smitten, huh Lina?" she drawls.

I look up and shrug at her. As I grab my bag and coat, she turns to go into the bathroom and says over her shoulder, "OK then. Have fun and be careful, Lina. And good luck with your doctor," I snort and head out the door, making my way to the closest place I can get what I need for my flirting tactic, which would be a Starbucks. After getting two chocolate chip muffins and a small mocha, I make my way to the metro, hoping I didn't miss Spencer.

Luck must have been on my side that day because as the metro pulls up and I board, I see Spencer sitting and he waves at me. I smile and sit near him, saying, "Heya Doc- Spencer. How're you this morning?"

He shrugs and says, "I-I'm fine, how are you?"

I reply, "Oh, I'm ok. I brought the books, too. Do you know for sure you'll have enough time to read them?"

He gives a small smile and says, "As long as we don't get called in for a case, yeah. We mainly do paperwork in between cases."

"Doesn't that get boring, though?" I ask.

"Believe me, after working on cases, paperwork is a welcome drudgery," he says.

I give a slight nod and continue. "Do you type it up, or have to write it out by hand?"

"Um, I mean, both, technically. While they've been trying to get everything backed up digitally, we can still write it by hand if it's one we've recently finished. I'd rather do it by hand, honestly. I can write faster than I can type." Spencer says.

"I can understand that. I prefer typing, but that's mainly because when I type, other people can actually understand what I'm trying to write!" I joke with a small laugh.

Spencer gives me a small smile and says, "Studies have shown that having messy handwriting can be an indication of higher intelligence, that you're thinking so much and so fast that your hand can't keep up."

I smile and say, "Huh, that makes me feel a bit better about my chicken scratch. Thanks, Spencer."

He flushes and gives me a warm smile. "Y-you're welcome. Um, this is our stop, we should get going."

Exiting the train, we make our way into the BAU building. As we step onto the elevator, I bite my lip and think, OK, let's see if it works this time... I open up the bag with the muffins and look inside. "Huh, they gave me two by accident. Hey, would you like this extra muffin? It's chocolate chip." I say, holding out the muffin toward him.

He looks at me and says, "A-are you sure?"

I nod and say, "Yup!" He gives me a small smile and takes the muffin from me.

"Thank you," he says quietly.

Giant smile on my face, I look down and say, "You're welcome, Spencer." YES, it actually worked! The elevator opens up to our floor, and we walk into the bullpen.

Spencer looks around, saying, "It looks like Garcia isn't here yet, d-did you want to sit at my desk and wait for her?"

"I-yeah, I'll sit with you and wait, if that's cool. I can give you the books, too." I say as calmly as I can while trying to cover up my giddiness. We walk over to his desk and he pulls up a spare chair to sit in while motioning for me to sit in his chair.

As I sit down, I pull out the books I've brought and place them on his desk. Looking at Spencer, I ask him, "OK, so, you can read really fast. But can you remember it all?"

He nods and says, "Yes, I remember everything I've ever read."

"Really? Everything? Is it ok if I test that by asking you questions about the books when you're done, right? For science?" I asked, wiggling my eyebrows slightly.

He chuckles and says, "I think I can do that. For science."

"So, um, do I-do I just...come by your desk at lunch, or..." I start, trying and failing to not sound awkward.

"I-y-yeah, I don't think it'll be a problem if we take our lunch at the same time," he says. Hearing footsteps, we both turn to see Penelope walk over, folders in her hands.

"Hey, Lina. You keeping our Boy Genius company?" she says, a sly smile on her face.

Flushing slightly, I ask, "That's ok, right? Like, I'm allowed?"

Giving a gentler smile, she says, "Yeah, that's fine, as long as there's downtime. However, I'm gonna have to ask you to come with me now, today I'm going to show you what we do when there's not a case."

"See you at lunch?" I say to Spencer, who gives me a small smile and says, "Yeah, I-I'll see you then, Lina." Grinning, I stand up and Penelope and I walk together.

"So," she starts, a Cheshire Cat grin on her face. "How was your morning, Lina?"

Previous chapter

Next chapter

Story Masterlist

[simizzy-writes]

happy birthday, Law!

Pairing: Trafalgar D. Water Law x GN!Reader

Warnings: none. just super fluffing fluffy~

A/N: the cliche is birthday sex i'm sure, but mannnn this doc just needs some fluffy feels in his life. happy birthday, you sexy thing!

+ consider supporting me on ko-fi +

He should be thankful for birthdays. 

Law knew better than anyone that a long life was never a guarantee. But celebrating his birthday never felt quite right after that terrible, terrible night. When he lost everything. Maybe it was survivor's guilt. In fact, it most definitely was. 

But despite his own feelings on the subject, his crew always made the effort to celebrate. Maybe it was just an excuse to party, but Law never made an attempt to stop their generosity. He did have one rule, however. 

No gifts.

This rule became established after receiving one too many tacky shirts that never fit, a polar bear pajama onesie, absolutely atrocious alcohol Penguin swore was sake and not swill, a tacky gold necklace that said "Love Doctor" in gold filigree….the list went on. 

So, he let it be known that if anything were to be given to him, let it be in the form of food. Onigiri, preferably. That had yet to be fucked up. Key word being yet, but he remained hopeful that it never would. 

"Happy Birthday, Captain!" 

Bepo eagerly bounced over to Law, paws carrying a large, handmade birthday card. Stickers and awkwardly cut shapes were stuck all over the front, and he could see that most of the glue was still wet. A tiny drop fell from one colorful corner of the paper to the floor. 

"We all signed it," Bepo beamed. He handed the card over to his captain, and waited with hopeful eyes for Law's reaction.

The birthday boy opened the card carefully, trying to avoid wet glue and glitter from getting on his hands more than necessary. True to the Mink's words, the inside was covered in diverse signatures. Happy birthday wishes, smiley faces, jokes about him getting old…a little bit of everything was written throughout. Law smiled, and thanked his dear friend. 

Bepo enveloped him in a - literal - bear hug, and informed him that mountains of onigiri were being prepped in his honor in the galley. 

"Your favorite! We made sure to make all of your favorite fillings, too," Bepo said. "We were thinking about having a picnic on the main deck since the weather is supposed to be good tonight. Shachi said that there might even be a meteor shower!"

Law nodded. "Sounds like a plan." 

He noticed small bits of rice stuck to his friend's fur. With a smirk, he asked if Bepo was the 'quality assurance' tester in the kitchen. The polar bear blushed, and sheepishly said that he couldn't resist.

"[Name] is the best cook! They always lets me taste-test when they're on cooking duty," Bepo sighed dreamily. 

Law was aware. Normally, the duties that were assigned on the Polar Tang rotated to ensure fairness, but it was kind of an unspoken agreement that you would cook more often than not. You were an exceptional cook, and spared no expense to make sure that everyone had delicious meals every day. 

His birthday onigiri was in capable hands tonight.

—

"Don't drop them!"

"If you watch where you're going I won't!"

Penguin and Shachi bickered back and forth, trying to balance two large and heavy trays out of the kitchen. The silver trays were piled high with fresh onigiri. Little pieces of heaven stuff with tuna, salmon, roe, kombu seaweed, yaki….and much more. Ikkaku and Uni balanced even more trays of onigiri as they followed the other men out of the kitchen. 

You sighed as you wiped your hands on your apron. How long had you been in this kitchen? Too long, but it was a worthwhile endeavor today. Well, it was worthwhile everyday but today was special. It was your Captain's birthday, and you couldn't resist going the extra mile to make sure he had enough of his favorite food. With that in mind, you smiled as you looked at the remnants of today's work. 

"Do those need to go out to the deck?"

You turned, and saw Law standing in the doorway. He pointed to a tray that had a handful of onigiri on them, but you shook your head. 

"No, those ones are for me. They have umeboshi in the middle."

The mere mention of pickled plums made his expression sour, and you laughed. 

"Don't worry, the rest are filled with only your favorites," you said. You removed your apron and set it aside, and you picked up a separate tray that had some uniquely shaped onigiri on it. Some looked like Bepo, others were shaped like whales and penguins. "These are special. Happy birthday!"

Law took the tray, and smiled at how cute they looked. "Seems like a crime to eat something like this. They look great. Thank you."

You felt shy under his gaze, and offered him a bashful 'you're welcome ' in return. A moment passed before you cleared your throat and informed him that you had something to give him.

"I wasn't aware that there was a rule about not getting you any gifts," you explained. "I had already picked out a present for you before Ikkaku told me about it. Um…After dinner, I can give it to you, if you want? When the others aren't around?"

His gray eyes twinkled as an amused, crooked smirk pulled at his lips. He was intrigued, of course, and forgiving towards your trespass against the 'no gifts' rule. You had only been a part of his crew for about a year, having joined after his last birthday. There wasn't a way you could have known, he supposed.

"Alright," he said. Law asked if you needed help with anything else, and when you assured him that you didn't, he made his way up to the deck. 

You gathered up your tray of heathenous umeboshi onigiri, and followed after him.

"[Name]!"

A harsh whisper of your name stopped you. Ikkaku was by your side in a flash, eyes wide and excited. 

"You got the captain a present?! What is it?!"

You hushed her. "Zip it! Don't let the others hear you!"

She placed a hand over her lips, but impishly pestered you to continue. With a sigh, you shifted awkwardly under her gaze.

"Alright, alright. Yes, I got him a present. It's nothing special, really - "

"Oh, stop. He'll love it as long as it's from you!"

Before you could ask her to elaborate, Ikkaku squealed in delight and continued:

"Are you going to tell him? You know, about your feelings?"

"What?! No! Why would I do that?" You were aghast at the mere suggestion of even telling Law that you liked him. You know, like-liked him. Wink wink. 

How on earth could you possibly navigate a conversation like that with him? He was so stoic and reserved, apathetically amused by the world around him despite how fucked up it was. Surely, he wouldn't have any interest in hearing how much you enjoyed his company, or how much you liked how intelligent he was. Or how, despite his great efforts to seem aloof, he really did care about people. Then, of course, there were the more…physical traits that you could appreciate. That went without saying. 

You shook your head. No! No way! You didn't dare admit your feelings. Not today. It was Law's birthday, and you were perfectly content celebrating the absolute treasure that he was - sans confession. 

Ikkaku pouted. "Aw, that's no fun…"

You poked your tongue out at her and scurried up the stairs. "Too bad, so sad!"

—-

The evening was a delight. The crew drank, laughed and devoured your carefully crafted onigiri. You believed Law's birthday to be a success, and you hoped that felt that way as well.

He was off to the side and away from the ruckus of his crew. His gray eyes watched the ocean waves, seemingly lost in thought. The sun had set a while ago, and the moon's glow made everything twinkle like silver. You couldn't take your eyes off of him, and it delighted you to see how handsome he was like this. Your fingers held the box in your hands carefully, and you wondered if you should even bother giving it to him. 

"Don't you dare back out," Ikkaku whispered. 

You jumped out of your skin, placing a hand over your heart. "Oh, my God, Ikkaku! You scared me!"

"Sorry," she giggled. "I could see the look on your face. You were second guessing yourself, weren't you?"

You nodded, bashfully looking at the box in your hands. Ikkaku smiled, and hugged you affectionately. 

"Don't worry," she said. "He'll love it. I promise you that whatever it is, it can't be any worse than the pimp chain Shachi got him a few years ago. Can you imagine the Captain wearing a necklace that said "Love Doctor" on it? Ugh."

You laughed. The imagery of such a thing was pretty ridiculous. 

Ikkaku gave you one last squeeze before she directed her attention to the rest of the crew. In a stern and commanding voice, she announced that the next step for the night was to get the kitchen cleaned. Groans of disapproval filled the air, but she wasn't having any of it.

"The sooner it gets done, the better!" She said, "Let's go, let's go, let's go!"

She winked at you, and herded the men off of the main deck. You could hear Penguin complain about cleaning up your mess, followed by a loud smack and a pitiful cry of pain. 

"[Name] spent all day in that kitchen making dinner for the Captain and for you. Don't you dare complain!" 

You laughed to yourself, a certain warmth filling your chest at how much you truly loved your fellow crewmates. But now, it was just you and Law. 

He seemed to be expecting you, as he turned to face you. He leaned against the deck railing, watching as you fiddled with the box in your hands. You approached him carefully, tentatively. It was cute, in a way. 

"So…" you began, "Happy Birthday, Captain. Here's your present."

You held your breath as he took the box from you. The tips of his fingers brushed against yours, and you could feel your soul just about leave your body at the sensation. 

Law eyed the box curiously, tilting it back and forth in his hands. Maybe he was teasing you by leaving you in suspense, but your heart could hardly take it. 

In a rush of words that almost sounded distinguishable, you babbled on about how you didn't have any idea what to get him. You thought about clothes, another hat, jewelry, something physician related…You rambled about how nothing quite seemed to suite him, so eventually you settled on this because -

"I thought that it would make you smile!" You exclaimed. "But then Ikkaku told me that most of the gifts you've gotten were kind of tacky and like a bad joke…I had already bought it by then, and I couldn't figure out anything else - "

"[Name.]"

You let out a nervous squeak as he stopped you, and for a moment you hated how amused he looked at your expense. He held your gaze as his fingers tore the wrapping paper inch by inch until the top of the box was exposed. You pressed your fingers to your lips, anxiety fraying your nerves terribly. 

Law removed the lid, and lifted out a mug from the crisp and clean tissue paper buried within. It was a simple white mug, but when he turned it over in his hand, Law's eyes widened. 

This is it, you thought. You squeezed your eyes shut, face buried in your palms as you waited for the dreaded moment where Law would scold you for giving him a terrible gift. 

" 'World's Okayest Doctor'," he read aloud. 

You groaned and shook your head. "I'm sorry, it's probably the worst gift ever. I just thought it would make you smile! Of course you're a terrific doctor - "

He said your name again, making you stop short. You peaked at him through your fingers, and were amazed to see the smirk on his lips.

"Nothing could be worse than the "Love Doctor" necklace Shachi gave me," Law said. "Thank you for this."

You nodded slowly, carefully moving your hands away from your blushing face. "Y-You're welcome, Captain."

—

You were always awake before the others, save for Jean Bart and Law respectively. Or whoever was on night watch. But it was rare that anyone was in the kitchen before you on any given day. So, the fact that the light was on made you curious.

You padded into the galley, rubbing sleep from your eyes. What would you make for breakfast today…? 

With a deep breath, you savored the smell of coffee. Already it perked you up, and you knew that only one person on the Polar Tang would make coffee this early.

"Good morning, Captain," you said. 

Law was leaning against the kitchen island, the morning's paper in his hands. Across from him was a freshly brewed pot of coffee. "Good morning," he replied. He turned the page of his paper, eyes focused on whatever bullshit filled the space. 

You hummed, admiring his bed-head and wrinkled pajamas. He always seemed so put together, so in the rare times you got to see Law in this state, you pressed it upon your conscience as much as you could. You wanted to remember it vividly and fondly. 

Reaching for a clean mug in one of the cupboards, you went about pouring yourself a cup of coffee. "Did you sleep well?" You asked.

"No better than usual," he said. Perhaps one night he would be blessed with a full, restful sleep. But he wasn't holding his breath on that.

"I see. Well - "

You stopped short as you turned to face him. Maybe it was silly to be rendered speechless over something so simple as Law drinking coffee, but it was a bit more than just that.

His gray eyes were on you, watching you carefully over the rim of his mug. But not just any mug. It was the mug. The mug that you gave him. 

You couldn't stop the grin that lit up your face. Your cheeks felt warm, and your heart was giddy. 

"Is that a new mug?" You asked, pretending as if you hadn't given it to him the night before.

Law nodded slowly, appreciatively. "It is," he concurred. "I got it as a birthday present, actually."

You giggled, holding your own mug close to your chest. "Oh, really? That's awesome! Are you really the "world's okayest doctor"?"

Law smirked at you. "I like to think so."

"Then I guess I'm in good hands, then. I-I mean, we are in good hands! As in the crew. All of us. Are in good hands - your hands. Yeah."

You stumbled over your words, blush deepening. You sipped at your coffee, wincing at how hot it was. That's fine - let it burn away your embarrassment.

"I think it's my new favorite mug, actually," Law mused casually. The mischievous spark in his eyes was not lost on you, and you swore that his teasing would be the death of you.

—-

Off in the doorway, unbeknownst to either of you, a bet was being made amongst certain members of the crew.

"I bet a hundred berry that [Name] confesses their feelings by his next birthday," Shachi whispered. 

Ikkaku shook her head. "No way! I bet two hundred berry that they confess before Christmas!"

Penguin scoffed. "You're both going to lose. Clearly, it will be the captain that makes them confess, and I bet three hundred berry that he'll get them to do it by the time we stop on the next island."

Shachi and Ikkaku gasped at his audacity. "Bet!"

A sleepy Bepo was left out, confused and hungry. "What do you think [Name] will make for breakfast today?" he asked. "I hope it's more onigiri."

Happy Birthday, Law! 💕