#so he was kind of allergic i guess??

[quaranmine]

i think the whole cringe is dead, radical sincerity, depth of genuine emotion, earnest effort, and unironic love thing that tumblr has going on the past few years has transformed my outlook on things and changed me for the better. but it does mean that now the people i know irl will give me strange looks for being too sappy or too poetic or too dedicated or too excited about about something because they're still stuck in their "well i only like this ironically" phase. guess that's their problem tho not mine <3

[hella1975]

i cannot stand the aot fandom this is not a new take at all they are universally intolerable but oh my dayssss u are FORBIDDEN from making ANY take about the show it's actually insane to watch. 'aot is perfect' no show is perfect. 'tell me you didnt get the show 😂🫵' people have different opinions/interpretations about things. 'eren is a good guy they could never make me hate him' i think there's actually 4 seasons and two movies explicitely using him as a tool to show that no one is 'good' or 'evil' they are only trying to survive. hello. the fandom r all so far up aot's ass that they actually discredit its writing in the process and it would be laughable if it wasn't so frustrating

[spacespore]

HI TUMBLRR it’s me

[sage-nebula]

Catch me calling up my high school to be like "hi yes I graduated from your institution 15 years ago but I need to know, did I take biology?"

[bitchapalooza]

The 18th should come quicker so I can be less scared to have orange stuff because idk if the popsicle brand popsicles use food coloring or it’s actually real oranges so—

[pucksandpower]

Grid Kids

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: your adopted family may be chaotic but you wouldn’t change it for the world

Series Masterlist

Max Verstappen: Jailhouse Rock

It’s an ungodly hour of the morning when your phone rings. You groan, fumbling blindly on the nightstand to silence the offender. The name glowing on the screen gives you pause: Max Verstappen.

“Seb,” you mumble, nudging your husband awake. “Max is calling. It’s 3 am.”

Sebastian grumbles something unintelligible, face squished into the pillow next to you.

“You take it,” you insist, poking him again, “I spent three hours on the phone with Lewis last night promising him that Roscoe doesn’t hate him for being left at home this weekend.”

Reluctantly, Sebastian sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He swipes to answer, his groggy voice filling the silent room. “Max, do you know what time it is?”

You hear a hurried explanation from Max’s end, something about a go-kart race, a party, and a tiny misunderstanding with local law enforcement. Your husband’s face becomes more incredulous with every word.

“Wait, you’re where?”

***

Ten minutes later, you find yourselves at the police station, bleary-eyed but amused. Max is sat behind bars, a sheepish look on his face.

“I promise, it wasn’t my fault,” he insists, blue eyes pleading.

You both manage to suppress your laughter. After signing a few papers, Max is free but the smug grin on Sebastian’s face tells you that he’s not going to let him off that easy.

“So, this is our life now?” you whisper to Sebastian, wrapping your arm around his. “Running a day care for unruly F1 drivers.”

He chuckles, giving you a light kiss on the forehead. “I think we make a pretty good team.”

Charles Leclerc: Open the Floodgates

It’s a stormy evening when your phone buzzes again. This time, it’s a text message from Charles Leclerc: Hey, can I crash at yours? My flat’s kind of … flooded.

Sebastian, reading over your shoulder, raises an eyebrow. “Flooded?”

Before you can respond, a photo arrives — Charles’ living room, a sea of murky water with floating furniture: Okay, maybe more than just kind of.

You look at each other, suppressing laughter. “Guess we’re running a bed & breakfast now too,” you comment, already texting Charles back: Come over. Bring a mop.

***

Not an hour later, there’s a knock at your door. Charles, drenched from head to toe, stands at your doorstep, carrying what appears to be a plant pot with a small, equally wet cactus.

“I saved the cactus,” he says, looking as pitiful as a drowned rat, albeit a very cute one. He offers a half-hearted shrug, “I didn’t want it to drown.”

Sebastian bursts out laughing, his contagious mirth echoing around the hall. You can’t help but join in, hugging your sides in an attempt to remain composed.

“Well, come in. We can’t have you and the cactus catching a cold.”

***

Over the next few days, you quickly adapt to the unexpected housemate situation. Charles proves to be a surprisingly tidy guest, always washing his dishes and even cooking dinner one night (although you had to discreetly order pizza after trying his special lasagna).

In the evenings, the three of you curl up on the sofa with Sebastian’s old race replays, laughing and teasing each other. And every night, before he goes to his bed in the guest room, Charles says goodnight to his cactus — the newest member of your eccentric family.

Lance Stroll: The Cat-astrophe

A week later, you get a frantic call from Lance Stroll. “Guys, I found this cat,” he says, panting heavily, “It was all alone in the alley and I couldn't just leave it there.”

The line goes silent for a moment before Lance coughs then sneezes loudly. “Uh, guys, I think I might be allergic ...”

***

When Lance arrives, the culprit — a tiny, scruffy looking kitten — is perched on his shoulder while Lance himself is a picture of misery: puffy eyes, runny nose, and all.

Between his sneezes, Lance pleads, “Can you please keep her until I figure out what to do? I can’t just abandon her.”

You glance at Sebastian, who looks at the tiny furball with a mixture of amusement and concern. He’s been a dog person all his life but how can you say no to those pleading green eyes?

And so, your home expands to accommodate another kid — this time, a four-legged one.

***

The next few days are full of chaos. The kitten — whom Lance named Speedy — turns out to be an agent of destruction, knocking over everything in her path and giving Charles’ cactus a few worrying near misses.

You try to give Lance advice on finding a new home for Speedy while dealing with cat-proofing your own. But, during the ensuing pandemonium, you can’t help but laugh.

George Russell: The Shrunken Sweater Saga

One sunny afternoon, George Russell bursts through the door, a panicked expression on his face. “Guys, something terrible happened!”

Sebastian and you exchange a concerned look, jumping up from where you were cuddled on the couch. “What is it, George?”

He holds up a shrunken cashmere sweater, once a luxurious wardrobe piece, now resembling something only a toy poodle could wear. “I accidentally put all my sweaters in the washing machine! They’ve shrunk!”

As the reality of the situation sinks in, you can’t help but chuckle. “George, you do know cashmere isn’t machine-washable, right?”

“I thought they were!” he laments, looking at his miniature sweater in disbelief.

Sebastian claps a hand on George’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, mate. We’ll figure this out.”

***

Over the next few days, you and Sebastian embark on a quest to save George’s beloved cashmere sweaters. Armed with online tutorials and gallons of fabric softener, you attempt various rescue techniques.

Some of the sweaters regain a semblance of their former glory while others are beyond saving. You present George with a colorful assortment of shrunken clothing which he accepts with an embarrassed grin.

***

A sudden thought strikes you and you can’t help but giggle. Holding up a particularly tiny sweater, you call out to Speedy.

“Look, Speedy! It’s your size!” you exclaim as you gently dress her in the shrunken garment. It fits her perfectly, making her look like the most stylish cat on the block.

The sight of Speedy strutting around in a cashmere sweater breaks all of you into laughter. Even George can’t help but chuckle, despite his heartbreaking loss.

***

In the following days, Speedy parades around the house, flaunting her new wardrobe. George’s shrunken sweaters have found a new purpose, and despite the initial panic, everything worked out in the end.

“This is the most high-fashion cat I’ve ever seen,” Sebastian comments one day, watching Speedy strut her stuff on the living room rug. “She should be on a runway.”

George, watching his beloved sweaters being put to good use, grins. “I think they look better on her than they did on me.”

Speedy watches you with a lazy stare, now comfortably nestled in her new family’s hearts (and cashmere sweaters).

Lando Norris: Call the Milk Man

It’s a lazy Sunday afternoon when the doorbell rings, jolting you out of your peaceful nap. Groggily, you stumble towards the door, pulling it open to reveal a sheepish-looking Lando Norris.

“Hi, I was just wondering,” he starts, shifting nervously from foot to foot, “Do you have some milk I could borrow? I ran out and the shops are closed.”

Suppressing a smile, you nod, motioning for him to wait while you go fetch the milk.

***

When you hand Lando the milk, he seems relieved. But then, he looks at the container quizzically. “Why is it in a glass bottle? Don’t you use cartons?”

Your laughter fills the hallway as you explain your household’s eco-friendly policy. Lando listens attentively, his previous discomfort replaced with genuine curiosity. You can tell he’s taking mental notes.

***

Over the next few weeks, Lando pops by more frequently. Sometimes he borrows more milk, other times he just wants to chat about sustainability, an interest sparked during his first milk visit.

One day, he arrives at your doorstep with a broad grin and a glass bottle in hand. “Look, I’ve switched to glass milk bottles too!”

Sebastian will be proud.

Mick Schumacher: Comfort in Company

One evening, you find Mick Schumacher sitting alone in your backyard, gazing at the stars. His usually cheerful face is thoughtful, his eyes a little glossy.

“Mick, everything alright?” you ask, settling down next to him on the grass.

He looks at you then at the stars again. “I just ... I miss my dad, you know?”

The silence hangs in the air, thick with emotions. You reach out, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay to miss him. You don’t have to hide it. Especially not here with us.”

He nods, wiping his eyes. “I know. It’s just some days it hits harder than others.”

You stay with him, listening as he talks about his dad, his memories both sweet and poignant. You realize that while you’ve adopted your grid kids into your chaotic family, they each come with their own sets of joys and sorrows.

***

Sebastian joins you two after a while and the three of you sit under the stars, sharing stories and remembrances. Mick smiles as Sebastian tells him stories about racing with Michael, the camaraderie they shared, and the respect they had for each other.

By the end of the night, Mick seems lighter, the earlier sadness replaced with a soft smile of remembrance. He thanks both of you for listening and understanding. “You guys really are like a second family to me.”

The Big Announcement

One sunny afternoon, you gather all your grid kids in the living room. The chatter is lively, the room buzzing with energy as they try to figure out why they’ve been summoned.

Sebastian gives your hand a reassuring squeeze as you both stand in front of your unconventional family.

“We’ve called you all here because we have some news,” you begin, heart pounding in your chest.

***

When you finally tell them you're pregnant, the room falls into a stunned silence, their wide-eyed expressions making you chuckle. But then, as the news sinks in, the silence is broken by whoops of joy and congratulations.

“Wow, so we’re going to be big brothers?” Max exclaims, while Lando jokes about teaching the baby to prank Sebastian, Mick looks almost teary-eyed with happiness, and George immediately volunteers for babysitting duties.

***

With your pregnancy announcement, your grid kids go into overdrive. They begin to dote on you in a way that’s both touching and a little overwhelming. From Charles insisting on cooking you healthy meals (despite his previous lasagna disaster) to Max bringing you comfortable pregnancy pillows, everyone tries to make you as comfortable as possible.

Lance even makes Speedy wear a bell around her neck in case she inadvertently startles you. The cat isn’t pleased but the sight of her jingling around the house keeps everyone entertained.

***

As the weeks go by, their concern borders on overprotectiveness. They fuss over you at the smallest things, like Max insisting on driving you to your doctor’s appointments because he’s “the fastest driver” or Lando continually adjusting the house temperature to ensure you’re never too hot or cold.

While their actions are well-intended, they often become hilariously excessive. One day, you find Mick baby-proofing the house even though the baby isn’t due for months. He sheepishly shrugs, “Just trying to be prepared.”

***

Despite the chaos, their actions stem from love and concern, which warms your heart. One evening, you find yourself surrounded by your grid kids as you sit in the living room, their laughter filling the air.

As you watch them, your hand gently resting on your growing belly, you can’t help but feel grateful. These young drivers, your grid kids, have become such a vital part of your life. Their genuine care and, at times, overzealous concern during your pregnancy only emphasize the strong bond you share.

Your family may not be traditional and your daily life may be filled with mayhem but it’s your life with Sebastian and the grid kids. It’s chaotic, hilarious, and unpredictable — and you wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

The Big Day

The day finally arrives when you’re rushed to the hospital. Sebastian is by your side, holding your hand through every contraction, while your grid kids anxiously wait in the waiting room, pacing and biting their nails.

A few hours later, when your newborn daughter makes her entrance into the world, Sebastian walks out to the young drivers, his eyes sparkling with joy and exhaustion. “You can meet her now.”

The joy and anticipation in the room is palpable as they rush in, crowding around the hospital room door in their eagerness.

The sight that greets them is nothing short of heartwarming. You’re in bed, looking tired but blissful, a tiny bundle nestled in your arms.

As they take turns holding the little one, their faces light up in awe. From Max’s gentle cooing to Lando’s finger being gripped by tiny hands to Mick’s unashamed happy tears to Charles’ whispered lullaby in French and George’s soft-spoken promise to be the “coolest brother,” the room is filled with a warm sense of family.

Even Speedy, smuggled into the hospital in Lance’s jacket, gets to sniff the newest human member of the family, much to the nurses’ chagrin.

A Baby in the Paddock

Several months later, the paddock welcomes an unexpected visitor — your baby daughter, wrapped snugly in a cute onesie with a tiny racing helmet print. As you push her stroller through the crowd, your grid kids and their fellow drivers are visibly smitten by the adorable sight.

Your grid kids instantly surround your daughter, their faces lighting up as they coo and make silly faces to elicit giggles. They take turns pushing her stroller and you can’t help but chuckle at their enthusiasm in their newfound roles as big brothers.

Sebastian, ever the proud father, looks on with warm amusement as he watches your daughter bond with her extended family.

***

Amid the hustle and bustle of the paddock, your daughter experiences her first pit stop as Charles and Lando try to change her diaper. Even Mick, the baby-proofing master, hovers nearby to ensure everything goes smoothly.

You can’t help but admire their dedication and the way they’ve embraced their roles as her protectors and playmates.

***

At the end of the day, you gather the whole group for a family photo. Your daughter, held by Max and Mick on either side, steals the show with her toothless grin.

As you look at the photo later, you realize that this quirky, chaotic family has grown and changed in the most beautiful ways. Your daughter has been embraced by these young drivers, who have become her brothers and protectors, just as they’ve become sons to you.

A New Racer on the Track

Years pass in the blink of an eye and soon your little girl is no longer a baby. She’s grown into a lively child with a love for speed, much like her father. Today, she’s ready to participate in her first karting race, and the whole gang — your grid kids now with seven World Championships between them — are here to support her.

As they gather around the track, an old joke resurfaces. Max points at a particular bend in the track, nudging Charles with a smirk. “Remember the inchident?”

Charles groans, rolling his eyes, “Not this again. It was years ago!”

Laughter breaks out among the group, their bond echoing through the years.

***

Before the race, each of your grid kids offers your daughter their sage advice. From Lando’s “always keep your cool” to George’s “remember to enjoy the ride,” her brothers are keen to impart their wisdom. Mick even attempts to show her how to properly do a pit stop, using a toy car and tiny plastic cones.

Your daughter, with a sparkling helmet almost too big for her head, listens earnestly, her wide eyes moving from one brother to the next.

When the race finally starts, your grid kids cheer on loudly, their voices carrying over the vroom of the karts. The sight of your daughter, determined behind the wheel of her tiny kart, brings a surge of pride and a few tears to your eyes.

As the race ends, your daughter crosses the finish line in third place, a beaming smile on her face. She’s welcomed back to the pit by a roaring cheer from her family, her brothers lifting her onto their shoulders.

***

That night, the celebration is filled with laughter, teasing, and an impromptu re-enactment of the inchident by Charles and Max, much to your daughter’s amusement.

Sebastian lifts his glass for a toast, “To our little racer, may you always find joy on the track. And remember, an inchident is only funny if it doesn’t happen to you.”

Laughter fills the room once again, and you can’t help but marvel at the love and joy surrounding you. These are the moments you cherish the most, moments of laughter and unity shared with this extraordinary, unconventional family.

As you watch your daughter being coddled and celebrated by her brothers, you realize that this legacy of love and support will always continue, and for that, you couldn’t be happier.

[etheries1015]

I had sort of a crack idea of what would the non-human twst boys do if their crush or s/o was allergic to them? Savanaclaw and Octonivelle with like the fur allergy and seafood allergy. Maybe diasomnia’s s/o has some sort of fairy allergy? Sorry if this is too silly for you to write, it’s alright if you don’t 😭

I LOVE THIS BECAUSE I'VE HAD A SIMILAR THOUGHT i'm allergic to cats and i'm like...man what am I gonna do around Grim BUAHAHA...this is a great idea. Nothing is too silly to write my friend!

Non-human Twst boys reacting to a S/O who is allergic to them!

featuring: Savanaclaw and Octavinelle!

general warnings: gender neutral reader, not really proof read \

TW: None! just fluff. and allergies.

Leona

The first time you sneezed around him, they didn't know it was literally BECAUSE of him. This was until you two took a nap together for the first time, and when you woke up he saw your face...Oh, brother. Your eyes were puffy and red, congested, and your nose leaked like nobody's business. He genuinely felt bad about this, but wouldn't let you in on his true feelings/emotions. Without understanding the cause (though he had an inkling) he immediately took you to the doctor.

"They're allergic to me? What kind of shitty nonsense is that?!"

Leona invested in the most expensive of healthcare for you. Allergy pills and whatnot, because he wasn't about to sacrifice his lovely naps with his significant other. No amount of allergy is gonna stop him from getting what he wants, and that is your affection.

Ruggie

"Sooo...basically you're saying you're allergic to me? Cause' im part heyena?"

"It's a little more complicated than that. It's more like...animal dander? I guess?" You didn't seem to certain in your answer either, it was more or less a guess since...well, there wasn't half beast half human where you are from. You can only make an educated guess on why you're so allergic to him based off of the information you had back at home.

Ruggie is honestly so sad about this. He can't afford to get you any treatments or medical help with this, so you two just have to be careful. He does manage to get his hands on some special washing products (probably legally) and takes extra care of what he eats, and how clean he his. He's consistently brushing his hair and cleaning his ears.

"Man i'm such a simp. What's wrong with me?!" ...He isn't used to bending backward for people. But seeing you so sick around him, hurt him even more than his pride, so he of course would do anything to make sure you're as comfortable around him as possible. Ahh...the power of love <3

Jack

He gives me the "I must stay away from you for your own good," Type. Although this doesn't last very long. Jack is incredibly loyal, and he's far too attached to let you go. There's times where he would try and keep a distance (much to your annoyance), but when you began sneezing and itching your eyes you knew he was somewhere nearby. Jack is protective like that, but it pains his heart to see you so sick because of something he cannot control.

He does both a mix of what Ruggie and Leona does. He took up extra part-time jobs to afford good allergy medication for you, the entire works. Pills, eye drops, nasal sprays, breathing treatments...He also invests in high-quality shampoo and conditioner to help rid of his dander and hopefully reduce the amount of shedding he has.

With the amount of hair Jack has, he is CONSTANTLY brushing it and it is CONSTANTLY shedding. He does EVERYTHING under the sun to control this, all for you. Although... this is a partnership! You told him that a relationship goes two ways. You love him regardless of how itchy you may get, and you equally chip in to problem-solve.

You're both loyal to each other until the very end, no matter what trivial matters may get in your way <3

Azul

He knew before you two started dating that you had a severe allergy to seafood, so he made it a point to avoid you. But...that didn't stop YOU from coming to HIM. It was one of the things that drew him towards you, the way even though you were gaining a rash you would still wrap your arms around the back of him. Although it wasn't as bad in his human form, he was always terrified what would happen if he were to unleash his original form.

But worry not! We are talking about the literal king of potionology. He finds a remedy very quickly, and you trust him...a little too fast. He is astonished when he says;

"Take this...the second you drink this your allergies will be something of the past. But be warned-" You grabbed it out of his hand and chugged it. He stared at you with his jaw slacked open, his face turning a deep shade of hot red when you throw yourself onto Azul and place a big fat kiss against his cheek.

He imploded. But hey! his potion worked! He tried to get you to give him some sort of paypack, but you mentioned that your form of payment was in that kiss.

He now demands kisses every time he makes the potion for you <3 It's kind of a silent agreement. He just stares at you after you're done drinking it, and whenever you feign ignorance the point upon his lips is far too obvious.

Jade

The first time you broke out in hives, he remained completely calm. Jade is rather smart, and he understands your allergy must be because of his disposition as a mer-folk. Although in human form, he couldn't help but notice the way you would hide your rashes either behind makeup or by bulking clothing. He was amused by this for a moment, but when he saw it worsen he couldn't help but become worried.

"Why would you go so far for me? what do you gain by allowing yourself to become sick?" When you replied with a blush that you simply liked Jade, thus his shock soon turned into action. He excused himself for a few days to climb mountains and collect the most effective of flowers and medicinal remedies for allergies and put together a potion that you were able to take to alleviate your symptoms.

He isn't the vice house warden for nothing! His talents and magic prowess truly aided him, albeit in a way that was seemingly selfish. It was all worth it for you, though.

But he does use you as an example during a class project in potionology, having you stand up in front of the class while he compares your allergies before and after taking the potion.

He got a 100% in the project. And a Significant other. A win-win for everyone!

Floyd

Floyd is much smarter than he lets on. The moment he hugs you from behind and touches your arm, he notices the rash right away. He eyed it with a frown, and without saying anything he let go of you much to your dismay, leaving you to your lonesome for a few days on end.

You had to admit you missed Floyd, his silly jokes and way of talking, his unpredictable personality, and the attention he would often give y you. While sitting at the table during a free period, your head was propped up against your hand and a sad sigh escaping your lips.

"Ehhhh? Why is shrimpy sitting here all alone? Didya miss me?" A familiar voice teased as arms wrapped around you and something akin to a vegetable drink set in front of you. You gasped and smile up at the tall male, who wasn't wrapping his arms around you as you were used to, typically ignoring the itching of your rashes. He convinced you to drink what he sat in front of you, and although you eyed it with suspicion, you sighed and drank it in one gulp and tightly shut eyes.

Nothing happened. You turned to look over at Floyd, about to question the purpose of making you drink the (surprisingly tasty) smoothie-like liquid but were quickly interrupted by lips pressing against your own.

The kiss caught you off guard and you began to panic, talking about your allergy...before you realized that nothing was happening. No rash, no itchiness, nothing.

"Seeeee? It's a potion. I made Azul make it for me. Now I can touch you as much as I want," He smiled proudly. However he managed to convince Azul would forever be beyond you...

He forgets to give you the potion sometimes, only when you two are cuddling and a rash or itching pops up do the both of you realize it's time for a dose.

Ya'll are so silly for each other <3

[silentheiss]

“Five years?” Shen Qingqiu gasped. “I can’t see my husband for five years, because you can’t write a single fucking page of an adequate plot?”

Shang Qinghua took another step back. He’s been doing it every couple of minutes since he’s burst into Shen Qingqiu’s house, carrying the worst news ever.

“Well, to be completely fair, this particular plot line didn’t make it to the novel!” The hamster of a man squeaked. Shen Qingqiu knew he was making himself look pathetic on purpose. He took great satisfaction in knowing that it wouldn’t help him in the slightest.

“Oh! In such case it’s fine I guess! Your shitty novel didn’t suffer.” Shen Qingqiu snapped his fan open and took a step towards Shang Qinghua. “It’s only a small matter of my marriage, then.”

“Cucumber-bro,” Shang Qinghua pleaded. “I’m so, so sorry, but at least I got here in time, right? What’s five years for immortal cultivators? Painful death would be much worse.”

He was right about that, at least. Painful death that Shen Qingqiu was about to inflict on his ex-best-friend would be horrific.

“I will kill you now.” He said. “Don’t forget to tell me how painful it is.”

Shang Qinghua scrammed. Shen Qingqiu let him, but only because his knees were a little weak and he wasn’t about to embarrass himself by collapsing in the middle of murder attempt.

He took a careful breath and lowered himself on the nearest surface, which turned out to be the floor, but he was at his house and there was no one to witness that. He could sit on the floor all he wanted. Because his husband got himself cursed and wouldn’t be coming back home anytime soon — if at all.

Five years.

Shen Qingqiu sat on the floor of Bamboo House for what must’ve been a long time, because when Liu Qingge barged in it was already dark.

“Shixiong.”

“Liu-shidi.” Shen Qingqiu blinked up at him. “Why are you here?”

“Your disciples worried.”

Ah, Ming Fan and his snitching habits.

“This master is fine.” Shen Qingqiu said. He didn’t try to stand up — his legs have long since gone numb.

“You don’t look fine, do you?”

Liu-shidi, since when are you so talkative?!

Shen Qingqiu frowned and decided not to deign his martial brother with an answer.

“Binghe got cursed.” His mouth said without his consent. “Eternal Heart-Penury Winds. In Lichen Caves. He forgot me and everything connected to me. It’s not for actual eternity, though, if I stay away from him for five years. If I fail, and he sees my face for even a second, then it’s for eternity. How’s that?”

Liu Qingge didn’t say anything. Which, of course he didn’t. What was Shen Qingqiu even thinking, talking to him about it? He knew his Shidi was allergic to feelings of any kind.

It’s just that he wouldn’t see Luo Binghe for five whole years. They’ve been married for four and a half. How was one supposed to react to such a thing?

“I’ll make you some tea.” Liu Qingge muttered and left the room. Shen Qingqiu stayed on the floor, mind just as numb as his body.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: Tangerine falls in love with his pretty neighbor.

Genre: Fluff 🍰

Warnings: swearing, blood, def a cliché mess but in a good way (hopefully)

~ breaking my T.S title streak for this one! inspired by the song Too Sweet by Hozier ~

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

It truly was some cruel sick joke that the sweetest looking girl he had ever seen had moved into the house across from his.

Tangerine honestly couldn't remember the last time he let himself have anything truly good in his life, since he knows everything he touches burns right in front of him. Which meant he made the decision that he can't afford that with you—so he's stayed as far away from you as possible.

You, on the other hand, have never wanted to become friends with anyone so much as you did with your two, mostly quiet, neighbors in the house in front of yours.

You'd overheard some neighborly gossip that they weren't to be messed with—gangsters or something like that. You didn't really believe those rumors considering you'd seen one of them, the one with dark skin and platinum hair, feeding the birds that rest on their porch. 

What kind of dangerous gangster would care about birds?

So, that's why, one month into having moved in, you stand in front of their door with a plate of miniature strawberry shortcakes displayed neatly in a pink tray. It feels corny and stupid when no one answers the door for a moment. You raise your hand to knock again when eventually the door opens and you look up, making eye contact with eyes that are the prettiest shade of blue you've ever seen.       

The man is dressed in a white button-up, half of it unbuttoned in his trousers and his brown hair is curled naturally, the ends sticking up messily as he looks you over. He tucks something behind him, clearing his throat awkwardly as his gaze falls to the tray in your hands. "Pastries," he says, his voice velvety and his British accent thick. 

You hold the tray out closer to him. "Shortcakes. I made them myself," you say with a smile and the man just looks annoyed—his lips twitching as he looks you over again, taking in your apron and the cream that's smeared on your cheeks. 

"It's late," he points out calmly, "much too late for afternoon tea."

He's right. It is. It's almost seven—you'd just taken more time with the cakes than you'd wanted. You feel embarrassed now and lower the tray.

"Oh," you bite the inside of your cheek. You'd had a whole introduction plan and now you're flustered. "You could use them as a late-night snack—" you pause, trying to explain, "Most nights, I see that your lights are on when I wake up at around three or four am for water and–well if you already can't sleep, a sweet treat wouldn't do you any harm?"

You feel like the creepiest stalker as the man's eyes widen. 

"Sorry, this was a stupid," you say and turn around, preparing to walk away when the man's voice interrupts your thoughts. 

"I'm allergic to strawberries," he says, "but my brother isn't. He'd love them. Here, I'll take 'em." He takes the tray from you as you turn back around and he looks down at the cakes he's now holding. Tangerine can tell you clearly spent time on them and he has to fight himself not to smile. 

"Thank you—"

"Y/n," you say your name much too quickly, itching for connection to this mystery man. 

"Thank you, Y/n."

You don't even hesitate when you ask, "And you are?"

Tangerine hesitates. He can't tell you his real name. Speaking to you like this, out in the open, is already risky. He sniffs nonchalantly and uses an excuse, one he hopes you won't question too much. "My friends call me Tangerine."

You laugh and the sound is so beautiful it's unfair. "Tangerine? What? Is that some shitty drunken inside joke with your mates at Uni?" you guess, pushing down the curiosity to jokingly ask if you using his nickname makes you his friend. It's too soon for questions like that.

He shrugs. "Mm, something like that," he says and he doesn't elaborate further. You wonder if you'll be worthy of his real name one of these days, but for now, this feels like some progress. You smile at him, rocking on your heels for a moment and then you look back across the street at your house. 

"Well, Tangerine, it was lovely meeting you but I should—" you point behind you with a smile. "I'll see you around and hopefully I can meet your brother! Enjoy the shortcakes!" you wave and skip down the steps as Tangerine watches you, his stomach filled with unfamiliar, normally dormant, butterflies.  

He chuckles, biting his cheek, and then walks back inside. He untucks his gun from his trousers and slides it into the designated drawer of the entrance table, shaking his head with a small smile as he remembers your wide grin. He returns to the living room and puts the tray next to Lemon's puzzle. 

"Someone important?" Lemon asks and then he looks up and sees the cakes. His smile widens and he doesn't hesitate to take one. "Ooo, pastries," he exclaims and practically stuffs one in his mouth, humming with joy. 

"Nah, just our neighbor," Tangerine says and runs a hand in his hair, leaning against the table and mindlessly playing with one of the puzzle pieces as he remembers how pretty you looked. 

Lemon cocks an eyebrow and speaks with his mouth full. "Which one?"

Tangerine shrugs. "Does it matter?" 

Lemon rolls his eyes. "Yer bein' weird as fuck. It was that cute bird from across the street, wasn't it? The one ya keep starin' at when you can see 'er from 'er window—like some creep—"

"Oh, piss off," Tangerine grunts, lowering his head to hide how pink his cheeks have turned.

Lemon hums, continuing to eat the pastries you'd made them, and grins. He knows how his brother is; always too damn proud to admit he has any feelings other than nonchalance and disdain. But he's seen how Tangerine is smitten with you without even an interaction and he can't wait to see where this goes. 

"Want one?" Lemon asks as he motions toward the tray.

"No. I'm allergic to strawberries."

Lemon laughs. "Ya aren't allergic to strawberries, you numpty."

Tangerine stands straighter, eyeing the tray of what looks like really delicious shortcakes for a moment until his jaw clenches and he turns around, his thumbs hooking in his pockets. "I am now," he says bluntly.

* * *

Lemon has gone inside first as Tangerine hangs behind, making sure the garage is fully secured. He's exhausted and there are dark bags under his eyes. Usually, he'll take the inside entrance into the house, but this morning he needs some fresh air after that mission. He walks outside and looks up at the dusty pink sky. It's 4:30 am in the morning—no sane person would be up. 

"Mr. Tangerine!" 

He startles at his name, holding his hands behind him—knowing they're still covered in blood. He looks up and his eyes widen when he sees you.

You're walking across the street to meet him, tightening your ponytail as your grin widens. You don't look sleepy at all. "Good morning," you say and look him over, "Weird running attire," you joke, mentioning the navy blue suit he's wearing.

"Running?" he echoes. 

You drop your arms to your sides, looking him over with a small, amused, frown. "Oh– I just assumed—most people, including myself, are only up at this hour for a morning run. What are you doing?" 

You ask the question so innocently that Tangerine doesn't know how to answer. 

He can't exactly tell you what he's been doing. How the truth is he's been out all night killing for money. He pushes the image of your disappointed and scared look from his mind and lies. "Oh, I like seeing the sunrise," he says, sounding nonchalant, pushing his hands in his pockets quickly so you don't see the dried, crimson, mess. 

Hopefully, you'll leave him alone soon. 

Unluckily for him, you don't leave him alone. "Oh! I love watching the sunrise!" you say, smiling as you point behind you, adjusting your sneakers. "We should go see it someday," you offer kindly, your tone a more sincere nonchalance than he was, "no pressure or anything." 

Tangerine is speechless. He blinks at you, his sharp blue eyes scanning you up and down. You must be kidding. No sensible soul would invite a stranger to do something seemingly so intimate. You shouldn't be inviting him like this, you don't know him. He's dangerous. 

"You don't know me, why would you want to do that?" he asks bluntly. 

You shrug, still looking as nonchalant as ever. "Can't know you if you shut me out," you say, smiling, as you return his bluntness. When he doesn't answer, you just send him a small wave, saying your goodbyes as you begin your run. 

Tangerine is tempted to run with you now. To protect you. He shakes that thought. 

Lemon interrogates him the moment he comes back inside. "Flirtin' with her now, Tan?"

"You're gettin' on my fuckin' tits," Tangerine grunts, your offer still swarming his mind. Lemon laughs. 

Tangerine doesn't have much peace until he eventually, after you deliver more and more pastries as an excuse to talk to him, accepts.

He doesn't sleep a wink that night. He's a nervous wreck as he plays every scenario in his mind and spends hours in the kitchen just to see your smile when he walks out of his house with a covered basket as the morning sun prepares to peak from the clouds.

Your eyes widen and you rush over, your pretty sundress hugging you in ways that make him lose his mind even more. 

"You made something?" you ask, grasping at his arm. Tangerine hums, guiding you to his car. 

"I know a spot," he whispers, hiding his smile. The drive is silent but comfortable and when he drives you to a park, he walks with you up the hill. You watch with amusement as he fusses over the picnic cloth and then opens his basket and pulls out a bowl of strawberries drizzled with frozen chocolate and a small bowl of whipped cream. You both sit down and you look at him, slightly confused. 

"As a thank you for the shortcakes."

"I thought you were allergic to strawberries."

You both say in unison and you laugh. Tangerine's cheeks turn pink and he runs a hand in his hair, answering you, "I- I lied. I just, I was nervous," he says as he picks up a strawberry and outstretches his hand. You smile and look at the cream.

"You whipped this yourself?"

He nods. "The store-bought cream is always disgustingly sweet," he shakes his head and dips the strawberry in the cream before he turns to you again, your knees almost touching as you lean in. You refuse to take the fruit and instead, you part your lips and stare at him, your heart hammering. 

You wonder if this is too forward, but Tangerine brings the strawberry to your lips. It takes bittersweet, like how you assume he would taste, the dark chocolate mixes with the whipped cream, and some falls from your lips. He doesn't say anything as he catches the drip with his thumb, looking at you intensely as his heart beats loudly in his ears. 

"Were my shortcakes too sweet for you?" you ask in a murmur, his hand not leaving your face. 

Tangerine knows he shouldn't. He knows he'll hate himself after but nothing sounds more appealing than kissing you now—so he does.

He can taste the chocolate on your lips as his hands cup lightly around your throat, his touch light. Just enough of a warning as to who he truly is. You gasp, not minding at all, as you kiss him back.

As complicated as you know it will be, this feels so right. 

Tangerine's hand finds your waist and, bunching up your dress a little in the process, he pulls you in closer. He takes a breath, looking down at you as he ignores the screaming in his head. "No," he whispers, knowing damn well he'd held himself back from tasting them, "No, they weren't too sweet for me."

It doesn't matter because, in the end, he isn't talking about the shortcakes.

tags: @kravensgirl, @brokeaesthetic, @earth-elemental18, @lqrlei, @princesssunderworld, @longlivedelusion, @thewinterv

[gay-dorito-dust]

Heyyy

So I really liked the Damian Wayne x reader platonic friend thingy your wrote. I really feel like there should be more of those.

Anyways, k cam where to respect something similar. Can u maybe write hc on what it'd be like to be friends w him? Like bantering n stuff and maybe u can focus a bit on how Bruce feels abt it? Oh and bonus points if the reader is awkward.

Toodles!

Being friends with Damian isn’t easy in the slightest, mainly because he doesn’t make it easy for anyone to befriend him in the first place. So the fact that you managed to accomplish that was a major achievement already.

However that didn’t mean anything afterwards was made any easier for you just because you managed to make the impossible become possible. No. Why? Damian is one hell of a dry conversationalist if Titus or animals in general weren’t involved.

He’s basically an extroverts worst nightmare given a human form. For no matter how hard you tried to bait him into giving more then a one word answer out of him, it always ends with Damian not taking the bait and allowing a air of awkward silence to befall you both while everyone else was having a better time then you.

You: hey Damian.

Him: hello l/n.

You: how have you been?

Him: in peak condition, why?

You: it’s because I don’t see you that much outside of school, it’s almost as if your allergic to social interaction.

Him: Tt. why should I go out of my way to do such a thing? I have you as an acquaintance don’t I?

You: I mean yeah I guess-

Him: then I have no need to expand my friend group, for they’ll only disappoint me. Now is that all?

You: I mean there’s not much else to talk about at this point.

Him: good.

*cue to the pair of you sitting in utter, awkward silence*

When Damian says one friend is all he needs, he genuinely means it. One is enough for him. He doesn’t need anymore because he knows that he doesn’t have the time for them. Plus he might not say it out loud but he does appreciate your friendship, even if your both awkward individuals within most social situations, but he is happy that someone finally gave him a chance to be a friend.

So even if you were to ever ask why you were friends it’ll probably go something a bit like this;

You: why are you friends with me?

Him: you aren’t an idiot, plus you’re the only one who isn’t insufferable.

You: is that meant to be taken as a compliment or…

Him: take it as you see fit.

You: okay…

Damian as a friend would be protective i’d like to think? I mean you are literally the first friend he’s made so naturally he’s going to feel something when he sees you being friends with anyone else that wasn’t him.

Was it insecurity that you not day might not want to be his friend anymore? Possibly.

Will he ever admit to it though? No. This is Damian we’re talking about, of course he won’t.

Also being friends with Damian would best summed up as being two people who shouldn’t work but ultimately do either way, kind of like an ‘against all their differences they’re the best of friends’ type of duo because nobody and I mean nobody saw a friendship between you two ever happening. Ever.

Not even the great Bruce Wayne.

Speaking about him. If you ever got to visit the Wayne Manor and meet his father aka THE Bruce Wayne. Take it as a sign as you’ve made it as Damian’s best friend.

Would you shit yourself upon meeting quite possibly the most powerful man in Gotham? Yes and your sweating buckets on top of that, all the while Damian would be stood next to you completely unfazed as he introduced you to his father as his best mate.

Damian: father.

Bruce: Damian.

Damian: *points to you* this is my best friend and I expect that they get treated with respect during their visit here.

You: hi- hello it’s an honour to meet you M-Mr Wayne sir.

Bruce: tell me how you’ve come to befriend my son?

You: we were in the same art class and I noticed that he had no one to sit next to, and so I offered for him to sit with me, keep in mind I’m not that well liked and practically had a whole table to myself, and I’d like to think our friendship started with that small act of kindness Mr Wayne sir.

Bruce: and had Damian been kind to you?

You: in his own unique way sir but I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Bruce: *smiled* you’re a good kid l/n and you can go ahead and drop the formalities and call me Bruce instead. I shall go and tell Alfred to add another plate at the dinner table tonight.

Bruce, upon hearing that Damian had made a friend, wanted to meet you within immediate effect and see whether or not his son made for a good judge of character and he wasn’t disappointed.

Given the fact that you were awkward aside, you were defiantly what Damian needed for a friend, and Bruce was happy to see his son finally get to be normal for once as he watched from the window as Damian practically dragged you out to the spacious backyard with an excitable Titus on your heels as the Great Dane tried to get up and personal with you.

Alfred: they are certainly a pair, aren’t they master Bruce.

Bruce: an odd pair they may seem but they even out the other perfectly. Besides when was the last time Damian looked genuinely happy?

Alfred; can’t say that I recall sir.

Bruce: neither can I. At first I was sceptical but I’m glad being wrong. I can only hope that a friendship like theirs will stand the test of time because there will be times that will test their limits with one another. But if they’re as good a pair as I think they are then they’ll be perfectly fine.

Alfred: couldn’t have put it better myself sir *smiles alongside Bruce as they watched you and Damian act on your own within the others presence while in comfortable silence as Titus fell asleep at both of your feet.*

Yeah you’ll both be alright. You’ve got each other after all and that’s what matters at the end of the day.

[kanmom51]

Pool fun Jeju day 2 (Episode 5)

Or

What JM gets up to when he has a proper wall to hide behind

or

JK is JM's toy - he told us so himself

or

Do we play the "find the couple" game again?

With those three alternative headers do I really need to write a post? 🤣🤣

Probably not. But where's the fun in that?

I guess we need to cut this into 3 parts. In the pool, out of the pool and back in the house. Or, during, after and after after, or, and this is the one I love the most, naughty JM, payback JK and double payback JM.

In the pool

There aren't enough WTFs in the world to throw at whatever was going on with those two in that pool. And yes, I am very much aware of the fact that there were actually 3 people in that pool. Not sure JM and JK were though, lol.

What strikes me funny is that we got to see way more sus Jikookery when Tae was around than when he wasn't. Maybe it was because having Tae there as a buffer made it easier to play the deniability card, maybe it was because they allowed themselves to be like that, again, because of that buffer called "the guest", lol. And maybe, just maybe, any "too friendly" activity on the first night found it's way onto the editing floor, figuratively, because, once again, it was way harder to explain it away.

Basically, with "the guest" involved in the games it's easier for all parties involved to push the boundaries without it being too much for the audiences 'allergic to queer' sensitive stomachs.

Whatever whichever, JM was in a mood. Clearly feeling MUCH better than he did the day before and out to get HIS!

Oh JM darling, your naughty naughty side is showing.

Same side a glass wall prevented us from seeing just the night before.

He was all in. Deep.

What was he up to there?

Why? Why the cut????

The amount of cuts going on. Dudes, enough with denying us!!

and this one.

Funny how there is no need to cut out the parts JK is going for Tae, lol.

And this cut here.

Once again JM getting handsy there. And if there was any kind of 'retaliation' the editors decided it was not meant for our eyes, lol.

It's bad enough those two (as in JM and JK) made sure to do his naughty behind a wall. Do they have to cut all the fun out? Well, not all the fun, but the juicy parts of it?

And then, after all those cuts this is what they decide to leave in?

Wtf was this all about?

On second thought, perhaps it's better you don't tell me, lol.

But before I do move on, do I mention that the way JK went for JM's hair like that and the way JM had no problem with it feels like this isn't their first rodeo?

Do I mention that?

🤔

Oh, and btw did JM and JK exchange their swimming trunks here? Either they did or they each got 2 pairs to start with (I'm going with option 1).

There was much more fun going on in that pool, much of which we didn't get to see. A lot of it just the two of them with their shenanigans and Tae being a spectator and some with Tae playing the games with them as well. Tae leaves the pool with the two still in it, we don't know if they stayed and for how long as that's when the editors decide we've seen enough pool play for one episode, lol.

Out of the pool

This is the JK payback part of things, lol.

See, JM needs to be punished for being such a tease.

JK locking JM out. making sure he locks every single door.

The playfulness.

The cheekiness.

For instance, what was this?

Was JM saying something? Mouthing something? Or was that him trying to flirt his way in?

And that wink.

And let's talk about this:

The 5412.

I really wasn't going to talk about it, but seeing that I've had a couple of asks about it, I'll sum it up in a couple of words.

I'll start by saying that I don't speak Korean, nor do I have knowledge of Korean slang. And as such all I can do is rely on others translations.

There are a couple of versions as to what it meant.

JM clearly signed 5412. There is no confusion there.

The question is what does it mean, or what did JM mean by it in the context of the situation?

Of course I've seen the "I love you" explanation. But other than the original account posting this explanation, not only have I not seen corroboration to it, but mostly other accounts either outright contradict it or just give another possible explanation.

Like this one:

And this is basically the same:

I can only assume that if indeed JM was saying "I love you" that the K-JKKs would be going wild (in their own cryptic way of course), which they aren't. Well, not about the 5412 thing in any case. So, I will be playing it safe here and going with it either being a way to signal JK to open the door or some other message that is for them to know and us to not.

But those two and their sus behaviour were enough to drive us wild anyway.

Back in the house

Towel battle.

And yes, JK supposedly started this.

But did he?

And I ask that because of this here:

Did you see it?

That was the full scene.

So I will tell you the 2 things I see here.

This is the 1st:

Look carefully.

JM is hitting JK's back.

When you watch the original with the sound you can literally hear the smack on JK's skin.

OMG < the abused becomes the abuser>

Bull bloody crap.

This is them being their own playful self, JM's response to being locked out by his naughty bf.

So yeah, maybe JK was the first to throw in the towel, or more so to throw the towel at JM, but he definitely was not the first to smack. And low and behold, he doesn't flinch from that smack.

And then there is this too:

JM looking JK over with intent, hands lifting towards JK and.... cut!!

Again they deprive us.

Going from JK drying himself to JK's towel suddenly all rolled up and ready to strike.

And then the 'battle' begins.

It amazes me time and time again how those two manage to find joy in just about anything, even supposedly mundane moments. Calm joy, just sitting there with each other. Chaotic joy, with their playfulness and outright chaos and mischief.

JM the trickster, lol.

And what do we make of JM commanding "STAY" to JK ?

I think I'll leave you with that. Food for thought.

I will just say one thing before I go:

People need to stop looking at them like cardboard cutouts. These are two complex human beings. Fully grown adults. Young adults, but still adults. And they are both of strong character. They know what they want and who they want. And they know how to express themselves and stand up for what they want. Even more so with each other. Those two know each other through and through. Anyone that thinks they have the right to insert themselves into those two's relationship and call out one of them for their behavior with the other need to just go...

Away...

Maybe get a life...

Maybe touch some grass...

Maybe just piss off.

Whichever it is, they need to leave these two alone. Because they can scream blue murder as much as they want, at the end of the day these two will choose each other over anything and anyone.

And let me say that once more with feeling:

They CHOSE and will keep on CHOOSING each other.

[cobaltperun]

Eternal Flame (2) - Those Eyes

Cover by @ortegalvr

Jenna Ortega x Female Reader

Summary: For her it’s a passion, for you it’s an accident. And as she continues shining brighter and brighter with each role you are left mesmerized, drawn to her flame and cherishing every time she lets herself be vulnerable with you.

Masterlist / First Part / Next Part

Word count: 2.5k

-I close my eyes and all I see is you and the small things you do-

The birthday surprise sounded like a great idea, after all, you just had to hide it from Jenna for a couple of days. Nothing too bad, right? You underestimated just how difficult that was going to be.

She arrived a few hours after you, since she lived on the other side of the country and there was a flight delay, so she arrived just as you were checking ingredients in the kitchen and figuring out what you could make. From what David told Melissa, Jenna wasn’t allergic to anything, but when he last saw her, she was considering going vegan, so you thought of the kind of cake you could make for her. Making the cake would also be fairly easy. The kitchen was kinda bland, the regular dark gray kitchen, but it was spacious, and you would be able to easily get used to it.

That was basically the deal, make two cakes so everyone can get a slice, Mikey and Melissa would handle some small appetizers, and that would be it. Get some non-alcoholic drinks, sing a song, and make sure not to overwhelm the girl, because you imagined that having a bunch of, basically, strangers, organize a huge surprise birthday party might be a bit overwhelming for anyone.

So, you were leaning on the counter, in the middle of flipping through the pages of your recipe notebook because you liked having hand-written notebook with recipes you’ve made and could comfortably claim were good, and then the kitchen doors opened.

“Oh, hi,” you heard Jenna’s voice and jumped, notebook flying up into the air as you tried to catch it. Only to just barely graze it with the tips of your fingers and have it land in front of Jenna’s feet. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you like that,” she quickly apologized when she got over the initial surprise.

It wasn’t that you were easily scared, you just did not expect her of all people. And you kinda panicked when the one you were meant to make a birthday cake for caught you in the kitchen! Even if you were yet to do anything. “Right, that was,” you paused, leaning down to pick up your notebook. “Embarrassing,” you chuckled as you leaned back on the counter.

Jenna shrugged with a small smile on her face. “I guess we’re even now, I mean, we both got embarrassed,” she quickly clarified what she meant.

“Even? Oh, no, you were way worse,” you shrugged, the grin on your face giving away that you were joking.

Jenna frowned, and for a moment your heart skipped a beat. “Mhm, I’m sure I was,” she turned away from you and began looking for something in the kitchen.

You immediately backtracked. “Wait, please, I didn’t mean-“ but before you could finish you caught an amused look in her eyes. Damn, you just realized exactly how expressive her eyes were. “Oh, you are sneaky,” you grinned.

“I’m looking for some fruit. You want some?” she asked you.

“I guess I could go for some fruit. There’s some canned pineapple in the storage, apples and bananas over there on that counter and some grapes and plums in the fridge,” you told her and she went over to the fridge.

“Grapes sound good,” she took a couple of smaller clusters and you pulled two bowls out. They were already washed so she just placed two clusters in each bowl. “Wanna eat them together?” she suggested and you nodded with a grip, following her through the halls into the dining hall. It wasn’t empty, but it wasn’t crowded either and you both greeted the few people you walked by.

You sat down next to Jenna and popped a grape into your mouth. “Did you travel well?” you asked and she nodded.

“Yeah, I’ve gotten used to it by now,” she shrugged, though she smiled, appreciating the question. “Did you have the time to settle in?”

“I guess I did, I actually spent most of the time getting acquainted with the kitchen and the nearby gym,” you told her.

“You can cook?” Jenna sounded impressed.

“I know,” you laughed. “The irony does not escape me,” your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you saw you were meant to go and prepare for the fight scene. Now, you were serious about your job, but a minute or two wouldn’t hurt.

“I’m really glad they chose you,” Jenna said and then quickly averted her eyes. “I just felt comfortable when we were doing our chemistry read,” she pretty much whispered.

“I feel the same way,” you told her honestly. “I’m happy I get to do this with you,” when you saw her acting that day you knew they’d choose her, that it would be ridiculously stupid not to. You moved on to the second cluster and your eyes widened a bit. “Damn, these are really good!” without really thinking you split the cluster and dropped half of it in Jenna’s bowl.

“Wait, Y/N,” Jenna began protesting, but you plucked the few grapes remaining on your cluster and got up to dispose of the trash.

You just winked at her. “Sorry, ma’am, duty calls,” you mock-saluted. “No, seriously, they need to go over the fight scene with me,” you made sure to explain and left the slightly embarrassed girl.

~X~

The first few days were mostly used for preparations, you barely filmed any scenes, though you and Jenna got through the scene you did for chemistry read. You were both definitely comfortable with one another, but you both also knew every other scene between you two from now on would rely on touch even more.

Honestly, you were kind of dreading the aftermath of the action scene. With how emotionally draining it would be for both you and Jenna. That was why the scene would be filmed over the span of three days.

Right now you and Jenna were settling down on the bed, with Keith, one of the stuntmen for Ghostface getting ready and putting the mask on.

“Are you comfortable?” you asked as Jenna lay down with her head on your chest and your arms around her.

“I am, don’t worry,” she assured you. “You? I can move a bit more to the side if you want?” she suggested, but you shook your head.

“I’m okay,” and with that, and Matt and Tyler finishing giving instructions to everyone the two of you closed your eyes, pretending to be asleep.

Keith walked into the room, and you heard him stopping at the bottom of the bed. He paused, as he was meant to do. Since Amber was supposed to watch Tara and C/N for a bit and then try to kill your character.

Keith then moved, but bumped his foot on the bed and winced. “I’m okay,” he assured and you opened you eyes, you’d have to start over anyway.

“I always feel like somebody's watching me! Who's playing tricks on me?” you sang, so abruptly Jenna began giggling and you laughed, soon enough the crew around you lost composure.

“I’m so sorry,” Jenna apologized as she struggled to control her giggles.

“Completely my fault,” you grinned, and though it wasn’t by much you felt her relaxing more. You didn’t say anything, pretending not to notice the shift in her posture, as she was no longer trying to hold most of her weight on her side but properly leaned on you. Her eyes shone brightly as she finally stopped giggling and looked at you with a grin on her face.

“Okay, now that everyone is calm again, take two!” Matt instructed and the two of you and Keith got back into your positions.

Keith walked to your side of the bed, and you felt robes brushing against you, which was your cue. You moved quickly, just barely syncing with his movement and catching his wrist. You stayed like that for a few moments, letting your character process everything as Keith pretended he was trying to push the knife into your chest to no avail.

Jenna opened her eyes and screamed, and it was impressive to say the least. And she quickly placed her hand between your chest and the tip of your knife. But more than that, the way she scream, the way she moved, you, even if only for a bit, felt the anger your character would be feeling in these circumstances.

So, you and Keith went through the practiced action scene of the day, first with the knee to his shoulder, and elbow to the guts, of course, just making it look like you were hitting him. You gently moved Jenna aside. “I’ll be right back,” and your eyes widened. That wasn’t meant to be the line!

“Cut!” Tyler exclaimed and you just sat up.

“Sorry about that,” you apologized to Jenna and Keith, and also the rest of the crew, but mostly to the two of them.

Jenna, however, seemed to have another idea. “Wait, isn’t that one of the rules? Don’t say ‘I’ll be back’?” she asked, and you could swear you saw lightbulbs lighting up above Matt and Tyler’s heads.

“You’re right! We’re keeping that in, get back into positions!”

And so, you did, getting it all just right in the next take.

~X~

Two days later it was Jenna’s eighteenth birthday, and the entire cast let the day go on as usual, just chilling out together and getting to know each other. Not once did you hear anyone wish happy birthday to Jenna, so you figured she didn’t tell anyone and was just going along with the day as if it was any other. Though, she did spend some time in her room, probably on a call with her family. You were glad it happened to be Sunday, she deserved to rest on her birthday.

By the time the dinner was approaching you were making sure everything was set, the appetizers, the birthday cake, you went with an icy wind cake, using layers of kiwi, banana, strawberry and blueberries on the very top. It was a cake your neighbor taught you how to make while you were still a teen, and considering you found out that Jenna did like most fruits you figured this was a good choice.

“Is everything ready?” Melissa asked as her, Mason and Jasmin came in, ready to help you bring everything out.

“Yeah, just lighting the candles,” you said, lighting the candles on both of the round cakes.

“You know, I think she’ll love this,” Mason commented as he and Jasmin took the plates with appetizers, while you and Melissa took one cake each.

“I sure hope so, it was a pain in the ass to hide this from her,” Jasmin laughed.

And it was, while you didn’t have as much bad luck, and generally managed to hide it all from Jenna well enough, you did have some close calls. Not as much as others, but still.

Jasmin opened the doors for the four of you while Mikey kept Jenna distracted, and then, when she saw the four of you she grinned. “And, three, two, one!” she exclaimed as everyone else from the cast began clapping and all of you began singing ‘Happy birthday’ to Jenna.

Poor girl looked around wide-eyes, completely taken aback with a dark blush covering her cheeks. “Oh my god!” she hid her face in her hands, something you noticed she did whenever she felt shy and embarrassed.

“Someone remembered your birthday,” she motioned toward David “And we had to celebrate it,” Melissa set the cake down on the table and patted Jenna on the shoulder to comfort her.

“Thank you!” Jenna quickly hugged her and got up, going to Jasmin and Mason and hugging them as well, as you were still busy placing the cake next to the one Melissa left on the table. The moment your hands were free from the cake she quickly wrapped her arms around your neck and thanked you before going on to hug each and every person in the room.

When that was done she blew out the candles and you and Melissa began cutting it since she was still a bit too shocked. She did get the piece before anyone else though.

“This looks amazing, where did you even get it?” she asked as she waited for everyone else to get a piece.

“Apparently someone was cast too perfectly for her role,” Mikey teased you a bit as you handed her the piece. “Y/N made them,” she clarified and Jenna just looked at you, her eyes lookig into your soul and heart as you shrugged.

“I did say I can cook,” you grinned handing out the last few pieces to whoever didn’t have their piece. There was maybe a sixth of the second cake left by the time you were done. As you set the knife down you felt a hand on your wrist and you turned around, and before you could register what was going on Jenna pulled you in for another hug. “Thank you, you shouldn’t have, but thank you,” she whispered as you hugged her back.

“Don’t mention it,” you told her softly. The two of you went and sat down and began eating the cake.

Jenna hummed at the taste and you couldn’t hold back a proud grin on your face. “This is amazing! You have to give me a recipe,” she wasn’t asking for it, she damn near demanded it.

“Sure, but I have to try it when you make it,” you said, pulling out your phone and typing the recipe from memory.

Jenna shook her head. “I can’t make this, but my mom can,” she explained, causing you to nod.

“There, sent it,” you told her after a few minutes and then you just enjoyed the celebration, which quickly turned into a chaotic fun as Mason and Jack tried to get the projector to work so you could all watch a movie.

“When is your birthday?” Jenna asked.

“Don’t know,” you smirked teasingly.

“Come on, tell me,” she persisted.

“I’m telling you, I don’t know. Mom was Chinese zodiac enthusiast, dad hated everything, so all I know is I’m born in the year of the metal dragon. Yes, metal dragon was very important to her, so much so that she waited nine years to have me,” you said it so confidently, so casually, that you wouldn’t blame someone if they took you seriously.

“Y/N,” Jenna warned you teasingly.

“Enjoy the day, I’ll tell you tomorrow. I was born in the year of the dragon though, that isn’t a lie,” you assured her, and though she pouted, she sighed and accepted that trying to get that information out of you right now was more than likely futile.

“Thanks again, for making the cakes for me,” she said, leaning slightly on your shoulder as the movie finally started.

“Anytime, Jenna,” you whispered.

Taglist: @lilbitdepressed27 @freakshow2501

[cocteaucherry]

co!worker nanami x reader

cws-perv nanami, pillow humping, masterbating (m), nanami being just pathetic overall, not proofread

(a/n- silly thing I wrote a few weeks ago

co!worker nanami who physically can’t be around you for too long.

It’s almost like an allergic reaction, his throat starts to close, his heart rate intensed and his skin turns a bright plush pink.

“Nanami-san! Do you think you can read through these papers for me?”

This was only one of the few times you ever spoke to him and Nanami automatically perked up.

“Y-yeah! No problem!” Smoothe he thought to himself mentally hoping he could take that out of the air.

“Great, just let me know!”

He watched you walk away, his eyes drawn to the sway of your hips and the way your pencil skirt hugged your ass

Nanami felt like- no WAS a perv for you and he didn’t appreciate his mind at all, you were a kind, classy person he didn’t need his mind to defile your image.

He felt the forbidden twitch his his slacks causing him to readjust his waistband, “fuck..” he whispered to himself glancing at the clock, he could last a few more hours only one more interaction with you.

You eventually came to get your paperwork back and his small talk mad wasn’t horrible just a few ‘no problems’ and ‘yeses’

When six pm hit his watch he was already packed up and ready to go, he made his way to the elevator strangely no one else was heading towards the elevator.

He was ready to finally exhale before he heard your voice, “Hold the door please!” Without thinking his hand stuck through the crack of the door it automatically opening to reveal your flushed face,

“Not now not now..” he scolded his mind immediately bringing his suitcase to cover the very apparent bulge in his slacks.

“Thank you Nanami-San! So any plans tonight?” You asked, stepping into the elevator as the first floor button dinged.

planning on fucking my pillow and hand thinking of you

The door closed and nanami cleared his throat, “Just gonna relax like usual,”

“Ah, forgive me for asking personal questions, how come you never go out drinking with us on Friday’s?”

Truth be told he never cared much for drinking with his colleagues but he’d surely change his opinion if you invited him.

“Never am interested, I don't choose to see anyone from my workplace during off hours.”

“Well I guess I can understand that, I’ll see you tomorrow I guess!” That damn smile you put on your face was too much, God he was such a freak.

“F-fuck..” the bed continued to creak under his movements as he thrusted into his folded pillow, his hands gripped the sides of the pillow imagining it was your plush hips and not this damn pillow.

He shut his eyes trying to imagine your intoxicating scent in that elevator, precum oozed into his pillow as he picked up the half finished bottle of lube squirting it onto his weeping cock.

Yup his pillow was done for sure.

“Damnit, keep fucking me- keep fucking-“ he grabbed his cock focusing on stroking only his top and giving his balls a tight squeeze.

A guttural groan came from his lips as he hunched over his abs clenching as he felt his hot seed spill onto his abs and his pillow. “That’s a good fucking girl,” he hummed slapping his softening cock on the pillow immagining it was your bruised soft ass.

A sigh left his mouth as he stood up walking towards his personal bathroom, he leaned on his counter staring at himself in post- nut clarity.

Why the fuck was he so pathetic?

[blushweddinggowns]

When Nancy’s mom pulled her aside one day to ask her a favor, she never thought that it would involve tutoring the Steve Harrington. The basketball starter that had nearly every girl in their high school wrapped around his finger. 

And sure, Mrs. Harrington was offering some really good pay, but that didn’t mean she wanted to do it. Because Steve was…a lot. He was cocky, he was weirdly aggressive when it came to his drug dealer best friend, and if his grades and lack of self-control were anything to go by, he was also dumb as hell. 

Just because he was the hottest guy in school didn’t mean she wanted anything to do with him. But her mom didn’t really give her a choice, not when she had been vying for Mrs. Harrington’s friendship for years.

And that’s how she found herself on the Harrington doorstep on a Sunday, dreading how tedious trying to make someone with no attention span learn was going to be. She rang the doorbell, impatient for the whole thing to just be done with already. 

She was surprised when it was Eddie Munson who answered the door, clad in nothing but boxers and a t-shirt that Nancy was pretty sure belonged to Steve, unless he had been a secret swimming champion in 1982. For a split second she thought she was at the wrong house, until she remembered that Eddie was supposed to be living in a trailer park. 

He ran a hand through his messy hair, not even the slightest bit embarrassed to be caught without pants on at someone else’s house, “Uh, can I help you?”

“I’m here for Steve? Um, I’m his tutor? Nancy Wheeler?” She wasn’t sure why she said her own name like it was a question, but the way Eddie was staring her down had her uncharastically nervous. 

But his eyes brightened at the word tutor. He stepped aside to let her in, “Oh yeah! He told me that was today, I guess we just lost track of time. Wait here. I’ll go get him. You want a muffin? I literally just made them, unless you're allergic to chocolate? But if you’re not they’re like, really good, my uncle’s recipe so you can trust it.”

He was talking a mile a minute as he led her into the house, happy in a way she never would have expected from him. In school he was so…defensive. Always willing to cut down anyone who made a comment about his weird sense of style. And there was also the little known fact that he sold freaking ketamine in the woods behind school with a small history of violence and theft. She kind of thought that the drug dealer whose wardrobe half consisted of skulls wouldn’t be the type of guy to bake muffins. 

But that didn’t mean she didn’t want one. 

“Um, sure?” She said, jumping a little when Eddie suddenly tossed one her way. 

Before she could even say thank you he was two-stepping his way up the stairs, whistling a tune that Nancy couldn’t help but smile at. If Eddie Munson could be so nice, then the odds of Steve turning out to not be a total dick were looking pretty good.

She could hear him slam a door open upstairs, voice loud and obnoxious, “Time to wake up sunshine! You got some learning to do!”

Nancy wandered over to the stairs as she ate, happily surprised at just how good it was. She couldn't hear much else, just a few groans and some shuffling, then something that sounded suspiciously like a giggle before the two of them made their way back downstairs. 

Steve was just as disheveled as Eddie was, hair a mess as he blearily blinked into the light, like it wasn’t already noon. He at least had the decency to put on pants though, something that Eddie had decided was superfluous. 

He waved at her as they came down, at least apologetic, “Hi, I’m Steve. Sorry about that. I was up late last night doing- I mean watching movies. Kind of let the day get away from me a little bit.”

He put out his hand for Nancy to shake and she couldn’t help but notice just how big they were. She took it, suddenly a little flustered as she spoke, “Nancy. And we’ve uh, actually met before. Believe it or not.”

Steve blinked at her, mind obviously racing to try and figure out when he’d seen her before, “Please don’t tell me we used to date.”

“No we didn’t but- wait. You don’t remember all the girls you’ve dated?” Nancy raised a brow at him, suddenly a lot less impressed. Just how big of a player was this guy?

But at least he had the good grace to look embarrassed, “I-well, it’s not like that. I-”

Eddie put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him in the midst of his stuttering sentence, “Stevie, stop while you're ahead. Now go get some food so your brain can actually function.”

Surprisingly, Steve obeyed, just like that. He just nodded and puttered into the kitchen, leaving Eddie and Nancy to follow him. 

Eddie leaned over, stage-whispering in her ear, “He’s usually a lot more charming after he’s been conscious for more than 5 minutes. I swear.”

They rounded the corner, just in time to see Steve eat half a muffin in one bite. He moaned at the taste of it, and Nancy was suddenly blushing for the second time in one day. 

He smiled at Eddie, hearts in his eyes, “How are you so good at everything?”

Nancy was starting to understand why her mom always said the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. If she didn’t know any better she’d say that Steve was seconds away from asking Eddie to ride into the sunset together. 

Eddie shrugged, even though his face was positively pleased. Steve finished the rest of it with a dreamy sigh, eyes still locked on Eddie.

“God, I love-” Steve coughed mid sentence, and for a second Nancy was sincerely worried that he had managed to choke on a piece of muffin. But the next moment he was fine, glancing over at her before straightening, “Uh, when my parents are gone. You can eat anything you want. Thanks for making them dude.”

Eddie snorted, barely managing to keep his laughter inside, “No problem, dude. But now that you're functioning I’ll let you guys get to it. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

Nancy wasn’t sure just what they would need him for, but Steve nodded anyway. It was almost weird, just how comfortable Eddie was in his house. She had half expected him to leave after he dragged Steve downstairs, especially since it was a school night, but the way he sprawled himself out on the couch said otherwise. 

They set themselves up at the kitchen table, Nancy with their biology book in hand and Steve with a second muffin. She cracked her book open, internally preparing herself for an afternoon of frustration. So imagine her surprise when none came. 

Because Steve Harrington was nothing like she expected. He wasn’t some undiscovered genius or anything, but he was diligent. He didn’t try to make a move on her, which her friends had definitely warned her about when they first heard she was tutoring him. He never got mad when he didn’t understand something, or even impatient. If anything he was just apologetic, a constant barrage of I’m sorry coming out of his mouth whenever he got something wrong that she already explained.

It was endearing to say the least. He even offered to drive her home after. She hadn’t realized that the offer included Eddie poking at him from the back seat and complaining about the music the whole ride home, but still. It was a nice gesture. 

When her mom asked her how it went she didn’t even have to lie. It went great. Not even on the whole he wasn’t a dick side of things. He was making ground when it came to his schoolwork, he just needed a little bit of extra attention. 

She found herself laying in bed that night with a smile on her face, more than excited to see Steve again. Maybe they’d even manage to get a little alone time, just so she could get to know him a bit better.

For strictly tutoring reasons, of course. 

~

Part 1.5 Part 2 Part 3

From an unpublished chapter of this fic (But I'll probably add part two and the reveal here because it kind of works with tumblr formatting!)

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hey if it’s not to much trouble, could I please get a tanjiro! Fem reader with yandere ouran high school host club? I just feel like the sunny personality and hard work would pair nicely.

Tanjiro Reader | Yandere Ouran Host Club 

Your smiles, your optimism, and your empathy make you a perfect guest at the Ouran Academy’s host club. Your sweetness is irresistible and your willingness to help just makes keeping you at the Host club all the better. Too bad you seem intent on chasing after one:

Tamaki Suoh

“W-whoa y-your strong!”

“Well thank you! I do a lot of training.”

Is amazed by how much power you have 

Over him and in general

Just the way you’re so willing to scoop him up when he dramatically pretends he can’t move

Not to mention you seem so ambitious

But for whatever reason you just won’t share

“Its kinda….yeah I think its best if I don’t talk about it.”

“B-b-but (Y/n)! I have to know everything!”

He couldn’t not know the love of his life’s personal struggles

While he could hire someone to find out its just more fun if he goes exploring stalking himself

Let’s just hope he doesn’t die on the way

Kyoya Ootori

You’re an elusive character he can’t help but fall in love with 

So sweet, so kind but there’s something more

Something fiery 

And through all his employee’s research he can find nothing

Only that your funded by the Ubayashiki group and that your sibling is a mute allergic to the sun

But he needs to know more

Like where those scars came from or why your so strong

“Well I guess there’s only one way to find out. Oh (Y/n) why don’t you travel with m-us to the Ootori resort?”

Hikaru Hitachin

Why were you so perfect?

He was just genuinely asking 

It was a little weird how you could tell him apart from his brother by smell 

but he wasn’t complaining when you can smell exactly what he’s feeling

And what he’s been through

“W-what are you doing here (Y/n)?”

“Well it smelt like some blood on you, are you hurt anywhere?”

“Ah uh yeah, right uhm here.”

He can’t help but want more of you

Your just so smart

Its hard to protect his place in your heart

But no worries that’s nothing money can’t fix right

Kaoru Hitachin

“Y’know you’re almost too perfect. Theres got to be something wrong with you.”

“Heheh maybe there is!”

You’re so sweet 

Everyone loves you and you listen to everyone

But who listens to you

What are you hiding

To be so strong, so powerful, so skilled 

He’d love to protect you at least once

He can be worthy of you

Just you wait and see

Takashi Morinozuka

“Ah you remind me of Nezukuro. Oh! That’s my sibling!”

He likes you 

A lot

Always responsible, always kind

Who wouldn’t love you

Which is what he tries to reason with when others pine for you

“Leave them alone.”

He doesn’t like hurting others 

Unless its for you

Mitskuni Haninozuka “Honey”

“(YYYY/NNNN)! I have some cake for you!” 

Not many are strong like you or as disciplined

But that doesn’t beat how sweet you are 

Sweeter than cake!

He just can’t get enough

But he’s an experienced fighter 

He knows the look of vengeful anger

Who IS IT?!

He’ll make sure they never breathe again.

[darsynia]

Banana (Steve/f!Reader)

MCU MASTERLIST | STEVE ROGERS MASTERLIST | Ro Roll

Summary: Steve unexpectedly stayed over, and you want to make him the best breakfast ever.

Length/Warnings: 1,700 words | sexual contact

It's your ACTUAL BIRTHDAY @ronearoundblindly!! For banaNA, the delicious centerpiece of my 7 Ro Roll stories, we've got an established relationship morning interlude of teeth-rotting fluff. Enjoy!!

Excerpt:

Steve sets his fork carefully onto his plate, lifting up his napkin to wipe his mouth. The look in his eyes is warm. “You’re hoping I stay over more often?”

Two months ago you’d have worried that was some kind of relationship test.

One month ago you would have been scared to admit how much you think about sex with him.

Today you say, “Yes, I am.”

Loving Steve Rogers has made you more confident, and someday you’ll tell him that.

Banana

You really hadn’t expected your boyfriend to sleep over. It wasn’t the traditional date where you dress up in something beautiful and eat out at a ritzy restaurant, then come home and undress to experience something beautiful. It was the kind where he comes by with takeout and the two of you watch movies until you both fall asleep on the couch.

Still, you’d like to make the morning intentionally special for Steve.

You can’t ask him what he likes for breakfast while he's in the shower, but you're sure he has a metabolism-stimulating plate of protein every morning, looking like that. After assessing what's in the fridge, you make the decision to go all-out. He’d been used to mess hall communal meals back in the army, right? Plus, there's a kitchen in the Compound, so he probably makes his own breakfast. You lose a few minutes just picturing that.

Ten minutes later you’ve made him a plate with two kinds of eggs, sausage patties, buttered toast, and a little cup of sliced strawberries. The glass of orange juice ended up using the rest of the carton, but you can always buy more.

You wait with bated breath with your own breakfast, a generous bowl of oatmeal with your favorite fruits garnished with brown sugar. Steve doesn’t need to know those were the only eggs, nor that you made him the last of your sausage.

“Wow that smells great, are you setting up your crock pot or something?” he calls out from the hallway. You grin, excited for the surprise. Soon he’s coming into the kitchen, still drying his hair off with one of your towels. He smells amazing, and everything about the moment is exactly what you’ve always wanted.

Except… he looks uncomfortable.

“Please tell me you’re not allergic to eggs,” you fret.

“Oh, those are for me?”

“Well, yeah, look at the size of the plate! I guess if you want the oatmeal…”

He’s walking into the wide kitchen doorway, disappearing behind the wall for a moment (during which your mind races, thinking of all the things you could have done wrong. Does he dislike pepper? Allergic to citrus? What if he hates sausage? Why did you think this is a good idea!?).

“Are you okay?”

Steve’s got a banana in his hand, along with a fork, knife, and spoon. “Together, we’re a table setting,” he jokes, holding them up.

You almost facepalm-- you’d completely forgotten silverware. “Thanks.”

After the eggs and fruit are gone (accompanied by many enjoyment noises that punctuate your discussion of baseball), he points at the empty bowl of strawberries with a neatly-sliced piece of sausage on the end of his fork.

“You should know, I usually only eat a banana or some sliced fruit like this for breakfast, but this is delicious. Thank you.”

You conjure up the least embarrassed smile you can manage, but inside you wonder whether his honesty is warring with his sense of politeness.

“You’re asking yourself if I’d lie to make you happy, aren’t you?” he asks.

“Guilty,” you sigh. “I’m glad you said something before I made this mistake multiple times in the future.”

Steve sets his fork carefully onto his plate, lifting up his napkin to wipe his mouth. The look in his eyes is warm. “You’re hoping I stay over more often?”

Two months ago you’d have worried that was some kind of relationship test.

One month ago you would have been scared to admit how much you think about sex with him.

Today you say, “Yes, I am.”

Loving Steve Rogers has made you more confident, and someday you’ll tell him that.

He stands, coming over to take your hand and draw you solicitously up to your feet for a sweet, brief kiss. Steve's expression turns more serious, and he looks you right in your eyes.

“I’m hungry.”

You cannot be reading him right. It’s wishful thinking.

“There’s still that bana--”

Steve interrupts you with another kiss. It’s full of passion--a rough hand at your hip, thumb caressing your cheek, teeth scraping out of desperate sloppiness. The man is wrecking your mental health, but you’re right there with him, slowly filling up with heated liquor at every swipe of his tongue. He lifts his head and smiles gently, his lips twitching for a few seconds before he leans his head back and laughs.

Two months ago you would have thought he was laughing at you.

One month ago you’d have nervously played along in confusion.

Now you shove at his shoulder in mock frustration. “Out with it!”

“I can’t pull off that line, I’m sorry! I did my best,” he confesses sheepishly. “I woke up in the middle of the night on the couch with you asleep on my chest and texted Clint about what to do.”

“Oh, God,” you say, trying valiantly to hold back a giggle. “Why Clint?”

He backs up into the kitchen with his hands held up defensively. “I thought I could trust him! I figured Natasha would give me… questionable advice,” Steve says, “--and neither of us wanted me to ask Tony.”

“Oh, God,” you say again, this time in actual dismay.

“Exactly.” He pulls out one of your leftover containers and its matching lid, and holds them up.

He looks so good in his tight pants and form-fitting t-shirt that you gather up all of your Steve-loves-me courage.

“I thought you were hungry?” you say impudently, walking over and taking them out of his hands to set on the counter. Sliding your arms up around his neck, you kiss him with as much fervor as the kiss just minutes ago, letting your hands roam into his hair, down over his arm muscles, and finally to your goal, his waistband. Because you want his full permission before you do anything further, you mouth your way from his lips to his jaw, so he can say something if he needs to. If his enthusiastic participation in the kiss so far is any indication, though, there’s hope he’s up for it.

You circle the button of his pants with your thumb, slipping your fingers past his waistband. He hasn’t put on a belt yet, and there’s something intimate about it that’s beyond anything sexual, like he trusts himself to be not fully put-together around you. Falling asleep on the couch with you is one of those kind of things, too.

Steve whispers your name in a hoarse voice that’s rich with desire.

“Yes?” you question, hoping you’re not pushing too much.

“Yes.” 

Arching up to give him a kiss, you release the button and push the zipper down slowly, as much a caress against his groin as anything else. Steve throws a hand out to the side, and you feel a surge of excitement to think he’s so enthusiastic already.

“Here,” he says, throwing the towel that usually hangs from the oven on the floor at his feet, eyes full of amused apology. “Believe me, I’ll want to hold on.”

It’s so Steve Rogers to worry about your knees.

There’s nothing you can say that won’t sound terribly gauche or overeager, so you kiss his chest and pull his pants down to his feet, kneeling as you go. You look up at him, holding eye contact as you tug down his boxer briefs--but you don’t have the bravery to keep his gaze for your first taste.

Steve’s holding himself rigidly still, but you can feel his leg muscles tighten up even more when you take him into your mouth. It’s validating as hell. You pull back, sucking, loving the feel of him, warm and vibrant and wanting you. 

At that point you let yourself bliss out, eyes closed and fully attuned to him. When he makes a guttural little sound of need after you do something, you add it to the rotation, and when he starts to rock his hips forward, you quicken your pace. Everything is perfect; the crease of the towel digging into your knees, the taste of precum in your mouth, the searing ache between your legs, and most of all, how alive Steve is under your tongue, against your hands, in your throat.

“Ahhhhh,” he groans, and slams a hand onto the counter. You realize you’d hummed in happiness, and god, he’d loved that. You let out a little moan of pleasure of your own at the thought of just how wet you’ve got to be by now.

As a reward for you both, you hum again.

That sends him, starting a glorious chaos of holding on and taking it all in. When Steve reaches down and flails at your hair and shoulder, you let him pull you up and into his arms. Steve holds you tight to his chest, right each there against the counter with his pants around his ankles, each of you pulling as much oxygen and approval into your bodies as you can.

He pets your head and leans down. “Want to know what Clint said to tell you if the first line worked?”

Two months ago you were sure you weren't good enough for him and it could never last.

One month ago you’d have worried this levity was a sign you'd done a bad job.

Now, you glare up at him in utter adoration.

“If it’s something about being barefoot in the kitchen, Rogers, I’m going to go to the bedroom and finish by myself.”

“Never mind,” he says, moving sideways just long enough to get a hand on his pants to tug them up. He does the button but not the zipper, then picks you up, heading into the hallway. At the doorway to your bedroom, Steve fucking Rogers looks down at you with a loving expression and says, “Don’t worry. I’d never leave you behind.”