#I Can Make Two Placemats

[unopenablebox]

Wove

[heirofnight]

coffee for two

pairing: azriel x reader

word count: 1.1k

summary: reader introduces coffee to azriel, he falls in love - and not just with the hot beverage.

a/n: this is just a fluffy little oneshot that was born from a headcanon that someone posted where it was mentioned that azriel would love black coffee. and like, i agree. and i had to write this immediately. also, hurricane hits tomorrow morning, and i'll likely be without power for an extended period of time. i'll post as i can! pls keep sending requests so i have things to write when i finally have power again. love u all! <3 talk soon.

azriel had a knack for trailing behind you - a moth to a flame, he couldn't help but find himself right next to you whenever the opportunity presented itself.

you hadn't yet noticed.

a newer addition to the inner circle's family, you were initially introduced to the group through your recruited assistance on a job - by rhysand, who had now become the protective older brother that you'd never had in just several short months.

however, you'd first ended up hitting it off with mor, and the rest was history - you'd since become an indoctrinated member of the family, and your presence was welcomed wholeheartedly - you were boisterous, funny, a bright, beaming light.

and azriel could not, for the life of him, stay away.

you'd become comfortable with every one of his loved ones to some extent - they all adored you, took care of you, worried after you.

but az .... there still remained a question mark over the male. you couldn't quite figure out how he felt about your presence.

sure, you'd caught him softly smirking over at you when you'd crack one of your witty jokes. and sure, he'd often speak up whenever you found yourself in a pointless debate with cassian over various family dinners - the shadowsinger never failing to stand up for you and take your side, even if the mock argument was all in good fun.

one time, you were running late for said dinner, and az had gone out of his way to make sure the house had prepared your favorite meal - your plate was steaming hot and waiting for you on a placemat right next to his own seat whenever you'd finally made your way into the dining hall.

cass had just snickered down the table, waggling his eyebrows at his brother's obvious show of affection. azriel remained silent, shooting daggers back towards the war general. that was enough of a response to shut cassian's mouth.

this morning, you'd taken a spot at that same table for breakfast, nursing a mug of hot, dark liquid. the pungent aroma trailed throughout the bottom level of the house, and azriel caught a whiff of it as soon as his boots met the landing of the staircase.

he inhaled deeply, the scent engulfing his senses. it was pleasant - deep and calming. he followed it all the way to the threshold of the dining hall, his gaze finding your small frame tucked into one of the large, cushioned chairs immediately.

you were still wearing your silk nightgown, a matching robe adorning your shoulders. he noted the way the fabric had slipped down just slightly, your bare skin glistening in the morning glow that trickled through the windows behind you.

your hair was tousled, but in the most endearing way. you'd clearly very recently woken up, opting to find your way to this very table before doing anything else.

you stared down at the mug cradled in your hands, your eyes still heavy and tired.

"good morning," he said softly by way of greeting. he began to walk quietly to the chair opposite yours - the thump, thump, thump of his boots against the hardwood floor breaking the calm silence.

you peered up at him, tired eyes slightly squinted. a strand of hair falling in front of your eyes. azriel's gaze snagged there, his fingers twitching with the urge to tuck it behind your ear. he didn't, though - his external expression remained as neutral as possible. however, internally, he couldn't help but let the word adorable sluice through his thoughts.

you gave him a sleepy smile, nodding your head once in greeting.

"good morning, az," you offered, voice still maintaining a fatigued rasp. azriel's knees went weak at the sound, and that's when he decided it would probably be best to sit.

he stared at the contents of your mug for a moment. you weren't indulging in tea - the aroma was much stronger than any he'd personally had before, and azriel thought himself to be quite the tea connoisseur.

"what are you having?," he questioned after a moment, his voice more gentle than you'd ever heard it.

you swallowed the sip you'd just taken, humming quietly to yourself, "coffee," you lightly pushed the mug towards his side of the table, "would you like to try?"

you met his gaze, and azriel realized right then that he'd try anything you'd ask him to - without question, if only to make you happy. even if he hated it, he'd pretend to love it. he longed to make you smile the way his brothers had.

he'd not tried coffee before, although he had heard of it. the opportunity had never arisen, and he figured now was as good a time as any to broaden his scope of morning beverages.

he, too, really enjoyed his alone time right after awakening. it gave him space to sort through his thoughts, his obligations for the day - and he always enjoyed a nice hot cup of tea while doing so.

his scarred hands reached for the mug, and he lifted it to his lips slowly. you smiled fondly while watching him, nodding slightly to urge him on.

"it's a bit strong," you said softly, "i do prefer mine black - without cream or sugar," you added, explaining yourself.

he hummed, taking a generous sip into his mouth. it was bitter, and azriel wasn't quite used to the depths of flavor that he sorted through as soon as the liquid hit his tongue. he thought for a long moment, before taking another small sip.

he nodded in finality, pushing the mug back towards you gently.

"i like that," he decided, nodding once more.

your smile grew as you clasped the mug between your hands once more, "i thought you'd might," you said sweetly, reaching over to tap his hand affectionately.

azriel preened to himself, wishing he could take this moment and pause it for eternity. to never leave this chair, to never have to give up this alone time with you - your silk nightgown, messy hair, and tired eyes. your rosy cheeks. the scent of coffee twining around the both of you, making the air thicker in the sweetest way.

yeah, azriel wish he could freeze-frame this moment forever.

but instead, you both sat in comfortable silence, and the house knowingly presented azriel with his own identical cup of warm, black coffee. his large hand immediately reached out to tug it towards his frame.

you both huffed out a laugh at the same time, and your eyes flicked up to his in realization.

finally, you thought, i've gotten through to him. common ground.

little did you know, azriel had been scrambling after you for months - trying to stand on any ground you'd give him.

and the next morning, when you entered the dining hall bright and early - hair disheveled and half asleep, azriel was already there - waiting for you.

with two mugs of hot, black coffee already on the table.

a/n: yall i have no idea where this came from. someone posted a headcanon where they mentioned azriel loving black coffee, and this idea came to mind immediately. i hope you love it <3

[leonw4nter]

A Dinner For Three

Husband!DI!Leon x F!reader

“Honey, it’s time for dinner. Time to get up,” your husband’s soothing voice gently tugs you away from the prying hands of a deep sleep. You slowly drift back into consciousness but you don’t open your eyes just yet, trying to linger in the border between sleep and the waking state for just a little longer. His calloused yet careful hands gently brush the strands of hair that veiled your eyes and nose away before moving to rake his fingers through your hair, trying to get you to finally get up and join him for a meal. You feel the couch dip around your waist area, prompting your lids to lift open. Your drowsy gaze falls on Leon who is now sitting beside you, a large hand placed on your leg as he gives it gentle squeezes in the way he knows you like while a pleased grin curls the tips of his lips skyward.

“Can’t I have dinner later? I still wanna sleep,” you drowsily mumble as you scratch at your arm, a little itch bugging you.

“I made you kimchi fried rice with two fried eggs and some boneless fried chicken with snow cheese,” he responds in an encouraging tone as he takes your hand and presses a kiss to the back of your hand.

At the mention of these meals, your mouth watered and you shot up. Well, as much as you can sit up with an eight-month old baby bump and the world suddenly spinning at the sudden movement of your body. Leon rushes to be closer with you, helping you sit up as he scans your face and body. He knew that you easily get dizzy now that you’re eight months into the pregnancy so he made sure to move you as slowly and carefully as possible so as not to trigger your nausea, helping you sit up while propping up some pillows behind you to give you time to regain your bearings before fully standing up.

“Someone got a little too excited,” he chuckles as he helps you sit up and recline into the pillows he placed behind your back. “Thought you wanted to sleep a little more.”

“Not when there’s a promise of fried rice, egg, and chicken,” you weakly chuckle while caressing your bump as you try to get your vision to stop spinning. Leon stayed by your side, observing you if you needed anything. After asking and then confirming that you didn’t need anything from him, he got up and walked over to the dining room. A few minutes later, he came back with placemats to place on the coffee table in front of you. He decided to bring along plates of dinner with the utensils to you, not wanting to make things more difficult or tiresome. Dinner was still steaming and the delectable aroma wafted through the air, your stomach grumbling in response to the feast in front of you. Tears sprung to your eyes, unable to hold back on the strong emotions brought about by raging hormones. A soft sniffle and a faint ‘aw’ catches Leon’s attention, turning his head to you. He quickly puts the plates he brought down, moving towards you and kneeling in order to look at you. His hand wipes a tear from your eye, a tender smile of his own playing on his lips though he looks worried.

“Something wrong?” he softly asks. “Why’re you crying?”

He moves in towards you, enveloping you in a delicate hug as he carefully sways you back and forth while he rests his head on your chest, his ears picking up the faint beats of your heart.

“Sorry,” you apologize. “My emotions are just… everywhere. I’m like– really hungry, happy, sentimental, and- and the fact that you moved dinner here instead of making me walk t-to the dining room– and also because I love you so much and you love me too,” you rambled with a sniffle in between.

He pulled back and peppered your tear-streaked face with kisses, his prickly stubble brushing against your cheek with each kiss planted before taking his time to admire his glowing wife, wondering what the hell he did in his past lives to deserve someone like you. “Must’ve stolen from the rich and given to the poor to have the greatest wealth in the form of her love,” Leon thinks to himself.

“I love you too, sweetheart. Very much,” he quietly tells you as he presses your foreheads together. “So, how about we have dinner now?”

You nod enthusiastically, smiling and chuckling as he helps you get down from the couch and into the floor, the ground beneath you lined with a soft towel laid on a pillow. He also got another pillow from the couch, placing it behind your back so you can recline and ease the weight you’re carrying. He gently rubs and presses on your lower back, letting you move into a much more comfortable position for eating. He takes your plate and adds in food, occasionally looking towards you as a way to silently ask if the servings he plated is enough already. You nod and take the plate from his hands, only to add in a few more servings to your plate as an excited gleam sparkles in your eyes. He chuckles and fills his own plate, his gaze occasionally flitting towards you. He takes his own spoonful of rice but not without shamelessly gawking at his wife sitting beside him; the way she lets out little happy squeals and does a pleased little dance is a sight he could watch forever. With each savory bite of the meal she so enjoys, Leon realizes that his life is similar to the dish in some form– a blend of different flavors, textures, experiences, and emotions elicited that led him up to this pure moment.

It occurs to him that this is their first dinner in their new home, having moved out of an old duplex due to safety concerns. The inside of their home is still unfurnished, boxes full and empty in every nook and cranny; the rooms would be void if not for basic furniture like chairs, tables, and their shared bed in the bedroom. This dinner would be their first and hopefully not the last to come in the years that this house will serve as a shelter to Leon’s family. He smiles at the realization, looking to his right to see his wife coming back for more. It warmed his heart to see how something simple and mundane like a warm meal satisfied you, your eyes all dewy and your soul satisfied by the good food. He couldn’t help but inch closer to you, bringing a hand to your growing bump and gently patting it.

“I’m glad you’re eating well, hon.” he softly whispers. “I’m happy that the little one is eating well too. I’ll continue to cook good food to keep you and our child happy, my dearest. Even when our baby grows up, I’ll continue to make sure everyone’s happy with the food they’ll be eating.”

You turn to him and grin, cheeks puffed up and full of rice and chicken. Even in this state, when you look funny and maybe even a little disheveled with your hair sticking out in all directions, he still looks at you like you’re the most marvelous view he’s ever had the chance of stumbling across. He opens his mouth as you move a spoonful of fried rice towards him, closing his lips around the spoon with a pleased hum.

“I know I look gorgeous, Leon, but you gotta get some bites in. Continue staring later,” you sweetly tell him.

He can’t wait for the moment when he’ll be able to do the good ‘ol “here comes the airplane” feeding trick for his baby.

NOTE - Will make note pretty short coz I'm eepy and wanna go to bed :)) Grades tomorrow morning, very terrified hopefully my grades aren't super low👍This fic was not proofread and was done in a cafe while waiting for my ride (finally understand the appeal of doing work in cafes; felt smart). EDIT: It's now the morning after I uploaded this and I decided to fix some things coz I feel like something was lacking and turns out I forgot to give credits, so I added that one right away. I'll try to write something a lot longer soon because my fics have been short lately 😭😭 I also watched a few clips of 'Welcome To Raccoon City' and now it's one of my comfort crappy movies. Like it's bad and that makes it GOOD. Anyways, thank you for reading my fics, I appreciate it very much :)) I <33333 UUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!! The heart dividers were made by @firefly-graphics , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

warlock wizard Wally scribbles... Thinkings! oh and a bonus bard-ish Barnabys in the corner for flavor

outfit ramblings:

first of all that is a Terrible rendition of what Home looks like in my head. i just needed to fill empty space </3

the staff was the toughest part honestly. bc it Had to be paintbrush-themed, but then halfway through scribbling i was like "oh shit. there are only so many ways to draw a paintbrush-wizard-staff and Weevmo already hit it out of the park." so if you're seeing similarities! you're right! i tried to make it as different as i could! there is Inspiration from their marvelous design, however accidental or subconscious! Apologies!

he gets a pointed hood instead of a hat because a) it looks great on him! and b) it has less of a chance of messing up his hair! also c) it helps muddle the difference between Wizard and Warlock. typically hoods have evil/duplicitous connotation - blur the lines! i want his long gloves and forearm wraps to have the same vibe. his neckerchief is a big help in hiding Home's seal!

his layered (loosely apple-themed) capelet (which the hood is attached to) has a nice high collar & hides the details of his loose shirt - eye embroidery! and some flowers on the shoulders but yk, mostly eyes. on one side of the shirt buttons has open eyes, the other side they're closed! there's also one big eye on his back!

his belt buckle is two halves of an apple! he wears tall thigh-high boots w/ low heels to feel Taller! he has a book-holster hooked to the back of his belt, which holds his grimoire! and he has a lil thigh-bag that has been magicked to be Bottomless and warps size! he can fit pretty much anything in there! canvases! paint! apples!

his half-skirt thing (idk what the word for it is!) is really plush, like a quilt - his capelet is the same fabric. soft, cozy. sometimes he'll use the skirt thing as a blanket in a pinch, or as a picnic placemat!

is his outfit a little Complicated? is it annoying to replicate? yes and yes. but im a maximalist at heart and Nothing But The Best for the blorbo <3 layers my beloved <3

[romanoffsdarling]

Time To Say (Goodbye)

Pairing: Daughter-in-Law!Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: It’s something that should have never started in the first place, something you should have stopped long ago. Why does something so wrong have to feel so right?

Word Count: 3,339

Warnings: G!P Wanda, cheating/infidelity, slight daddy kink, oral (R and Wanda receiving), possessive sex, angst. 18+, Minors DNI.

Author’s Note: Sorry if this is trash… I haven’t really written for G!P before.

“How did your date go?”

It’s an innocent question, borne out of genuine interest in your personal life, but you couldn’t stop the smallest of winces from flitting across your face. The feeling of burning eyes boring into the side of your head doesn’t help things, but you meet the gentle gaze of your daughter steadily, a wane smile curling your lips upward.

“It went fine,” you reply, placing your fork back down on the placemat. Lest she notice the shakiness of your hand. “I had a great time.”

“Will you be seeing him again?”

The husky voice, made even huskier by the accent slipping through the cracks, interrupts whatever your daughter had been about to say. A certain note of sharpness laid within it that you could pick out instantly, but your daughter seemed wholly unaware of. Instead, she offers you an encouraging smile too, clearly agreeing with her wife. Knowing that if you didn’t look at her, if you didn’t even try to create a semblance of normalcy, then your daughter, for all of her obliviousness, would pick up on something— that being the last thing you want.

Meeting darkened emerald with your own steady gaze is a test unto itself— staring into the eyes of Wanda Maximoff, your daughter’s wife, and answering a question about your dating life is one thing, but staring at the woman you’ve secretly been having an affair with?

An entirely different matter.

“I don’t know.” Honesty is the best possibility, right? Even though you think that scheme of rules had abandoned you long ago. “He was nice, but I don’t know if he’d want to see me again.”

Your daughter scoffs. “Please, he’d be an absolute idiot to not want to take you out again.” She shifts in her seat, gesturing towards her wife. “Right, Wanda?”

Wanda, who had been staring at you with an unreadable expression, seemingly softens, but you could see the war being waged within her eyes, as she smiles gently. “An absolute fool.” Emerald eyes trace over your face. “Only an imbecile would be able to let you go.”

You shift in your seat, well aware of the double nuance hidden within her words, but your daughter continues forward with the conversation, easily switching subjects to something that happened to her at work the previous week, and you’ve never been more relieved for a shift then right now.

Even though, as you begin to slowly finish your dinner, listening half heartedly to your daughters rambling, you could feel Wanda’s gaze still steadily boring into you. A heat building between the two of you that you know she wouldn’t let go of— no matter what.

You should have known that she’d corner you when your daughter was otherwise preoccupied upstairs, your own attention being on finishing up the dishes.

A warm body suddenly pressing you into the counter, heated lips tracing across your neck, almost makes you drop the plate in your grasp, but you’re able to steady yourself just enough to stop that inevitable disaster from occurring.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me you went on a date?” The words are snarled against your pulse point, teeth digging into the sensitive flesh there. No doubt leaving a mark that’d you have for the next few days as a reminder. “That you let someone else ever think they’d be able to have you?”

A small sound escapes your throat before you can stop it. The feeling of Wanda pressed so firmly against your back: hands gripping your hips, a familiar bulge making its home against your ass, and the soothing tongue that’s gently lapping over yet another mark she had just made.

“Answer me,” she hisses, warm breath hot over the shell of your ear. “I want to know why the fuck you thought I’d ever let anyone else have you?”

You shake your head. “We can’t do this, Wanda. What we’ve been doing—” A gasp is wrenched from your lips when Wanda grinds her erection against you, her blatant need for you apparent. “It’s wrong. What we’re doing is wrong.”

Wanda huffs out a laugh. “That’s not what you were saying when I had you screaming on this very counter last weekend. In fact—” She steps closer, pulling you impossibly tighter against her body. “I think you wanted nothing more than for me to continue.”

Turning in her grasp, you’re soon face-to-face with Wanda’s smoldering gaze, the darkness from earlier making its appearance blatantly known. “My daughter, your wife, is upstairs right now.” You glance up, trying to hear any note of disturbance. Fortunately not finding any. “We can’t do this anymore, Wanda. I can’t keep betraying my daughter like this.”

“How many times have I told you that I’d divorce her for you? How many fucking times have I told you that I’m completely in love with you?” She steps forward, forehead pressing against your own, voice dropped to a heated whisper. “You’re the love of my life. No one, not even your daughter, will ever be able to compare.”

You flinch at the reminder of your child. “We’ve been over this. You love what I do for your body, Wanda. You don’t love me, I’m over a decade older than you, much more than that let’s be honest, and there’s nothing you can say that’ll change that fact.” You run a frazzled hand through your hair. “Why can’t you accept that?”

“Because you mean everything to me.”

“And she means everything to me.”

A snarl curls her lips upward, clearly displeased by the turn that this conversation had taken, but you’re well aware that Wanda wouldn’t simply let this be— that she wouldn’t just let you go. Not after everything you’ve been through together.

While you firmly believed that Wanda didn’t love you in the manner she said she did— however much it may cause your heart to flutter whenever she said it— you do believe that she felt a bone-deep attraction to you. That she craved you in the same exact way that you did for her.

Instinctually.

Carnally.

Like the very basis of your beings were meant to be united in an intrinsic way— hence the passionate love affair that you’ve been part of for the last two years.

“Get on your knees.” The command shouldn’t come as a surprise to you, not with how worked up Wanda clearly was, but you still couldn’t stem the shocked expression from making an appearance on your face. “You heard me, baby. I want you to get on your knees for me.”

“Wand—”

A snarl interrupts your rebuttal, surprisingly strong hands gripping your biceps in an iron hold. “No,” she hisses. “This is not the time to argue, this is not the time to make up fucking excuses on why we shouldn’t do this, we only have a little while left before she comes back down here. I’m not going to waste the time I have with you by fighting over something we clearly both want.” Wanda tugs at your arms, showing you clearly what she wants. “Get on your knees. Now.”

Knowing that there’s no use in denying her any further, not with the way your own arousal is currently painting you thighs beneath your dress, you follow her command, eliciting a contented sigh from her. With slightly shaking hands, you quickly make work of both her belt and shimmy her tights jeans down her legs, instantly being met by her hard length.

“Come on, baby,” Wanda coos, threading her fingers through the strands of your hair. “You know what I want.”

Without preamble, or any form of warning, you take Wanda completely into your mouth— from tip until your nose brushes across her pubic bone— delighting in the harsh gasp she lets out, the hand not in your hair steadying herself on the counter behind you. The taste of Wanda, her familiar scent, entrances you completely, surrounding you wholeheartedly. Bobbing up and down, mindful to keep your lips completely sealed to deter any possible noise from escaping, the feeling of Wanda stretching out your throat due to her girth is a heady drug you’ve grown addicted to.

“Fuck,” Wanda curses, hands tightening in your hair. Dragging you up and down her cock, forcing herself further into the back of your throat. “You’re doing so good, baby. Taking me so well. Better than anyone ever has.”

Your nails dig into the backs of her thighs, tongue lashing across the sensitive head, tasting the pre-cum that’s been steadily escaping since you started, the familiar salty, and somehow slightly sweet, flavor making you suck even harder. The action causes Wanda’s hips to jerk harshly, gagging you due to how deep her cock goes, but only a filthy groan is what she gives you in form of an apology— darkened emerald eyes watching you with rapt attention.

Feeling the way she’s beginning to jerk, the way that her hips were beginning to stutter in their momentum, causes you to become aware of how close she is to cumming. Which is why, when Wanda pulls out of your mouth entirely, a small hiss leaving her lips due to the difference in temperature, you’re fairly confused.

With a hand on your neck, Wanda drags you upward, lips descending to filthily meet yours in a twisted embrace. Her tongue meeting yours in a tangle, getting reacquainted with one another, before her teeth nips at your bottom lip when she pulls away. A thin trail of saliva connects you both, so close to one another you weren’t even sure whose air you were breathing anymore.

“You’re so perfect for me,” Wanda murmurs, slender fingers trailing down you face. “The perfect girl for daddy.”

Your thighs clench together at the nickname— one that isn’t used often, as you’re still embarrassed by it at times, but you’ve slowly come to terms with it, how hot it makes Wanda feel, and the erotic thrill it sends down your spine whenever you utter it in the heat of passion.

Wanda’s hands snake down to the back of your legs, placing you so you’re seated on the cold, marble countertop, dark emerald eyes tracing over the expanse of exposed skin that’s at her disposal. Hiking up your dress until it’s situated around your waist, Wanda drinks in the sight of your bare legs, until they settle on her prize. A heated expression taking over the briefly surprised one.

“Not wearing any panties, baby?” A slender finger trials down your slit, parting your folds and barely dipping into the wetness she finds there. “Naughty girl.”

“Only for you.”

A wordless cry is ripped from your throat when Wanda descends onto your clit with a ravenous hunter, tongue lashing against the bundle of sensitive nerves. Drinking you in as if you were her favorite drink, hands making sure you were kept wide open for her. When she lowers herself further, giving her the perfect angle to dip her tongue into your opening, a small keen escapes you. Brief panic settling within your chest as it echoes across the kitchen— not that it stops Wanda in the slightest. In fact, at the confirmation that she was making you feel good, she sped up her movements. Working further and further into your tunnel, small noises of her own, muffled by your cunt, showcasing how affected she is by your taste and the feel of you.

Your climax washes over you quickly, both by how long it’s been since she’s touched you, and the fervency in which she’s currently doing so. Barely being able slap a hand over your mouth before you scream out your release, gushing into Wanda’s waiting mouth, hips flexing and bucking against her solid hold, you feel the tremors make their way down your spine, sending a pleasant chill through you.

Wanda only pulls away once she’s helped you through the aftershocks, face slick with your wetness, but the familiar fire once again scorches you through you at the look she levels you with.

“I need to have you,” Wanda murmurs, standing to settle between your still parted legs. Her cock, that looks almost painfully hard, resting against you, rubbing slightly against your clit, as she situates herself. “We don’t have a lot of time left. Not enough for me to worship you the way you deserve to be worshiped.” She looks almost put out by that. “But, I’m still going to fuck you in a way that only I will ever be able to replicate. Make you mine in the way that you’ve made me yours. Think you can handle that, baby?”

As an answer, you loosely wrap your arms around her neck, tugging her into a brief kiss. You’re well aware you didn’t have enough time left, that idle chitchat would only shave it sway, which is something Wanda seems to register at last. Within the next moment, she’s buried to the hilt in you, your walls stretching to accommodate the familiar length. Tucking your head into her neck, to muffle some of your moans as Wanda begins to thrust, you grapple at her back, nails digging into the leather of her jacket, as Wanda seems to lose herself in the feel of you.

The sound of flesh slapping against flesh permeates the air, an occasional grunt or moan intercepting it, and you’d normally be concerned by how much noise you’re making, especially since your daughter is still in the house, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when Wanda fills you so completely, when she plays your body like her favorite instrument.

“Keep fucking me, baby,” you whine, grappling her shoulders, a small tremor making itself known. “I’m so close.”

You were drunk on pleasure as Wanda kept driving her hips forward, one slender finger roughly rubbing your clit in time with each thrust. It’s of no surprise that you find your release quickly after, gushing over Wanda’s cock.

Something that causes her to groan, no doubt feeling the way your inner walls began to constrict around her, trying to milk her for everything she’s worth.

“I’m not going to last much longer, baby,” Wanda gasps, lowering her head to your shoulder. Hips flexing as she tries to stem her climax to extend her pleasure just a bit more, to keep feeling you for just a bit longer. “Going to fill you up.”

With a stuttering thrust, a sharp groan escaping her, Wanda bites down onto the juncture where your shoulder meets your neck, as her climax hits her— jets of her cum painting your inner walls white, warming you up.

Once her own shuddering dies down, when she’s resting limply against your body, your hands gently tracing down her still quivering back, does her voice finally break the silence between you. “I don’t know if I can give this up.” She pulls you back, emerald eyes pleading with you. “I don’t know if I can give you up.”

A bitter smile twists your lips upward, the reminder that Wanda wasn’t truly yours, and that you weren’t truly hers, leaving a sour taste in your mouth.

“It’ll be best for everyone,” you reply, tucking a strand of red hair behind her ears. Heart cracking at the way she leans into the gentle touch. “You owe it to yourself, and my daughter, to try and make your marriage work.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“It will.” It’s an affirmation, one you didn’t particularly put your entire heart behind. Something you didn’t want to dwell too much on. “Anyone would be lucky to have you, Wanda.”

Tears gather in emerald eyes eyes, her head dropping to rest against your chest, as sadness swells between the both of you.

“The only person I want to have me is you.”

You press a kiss to the top of her head, closing your eyes to abate your own tears. “I know.”

“Are you going to come up and visit us during the holidays, mom?”

Your daughter’s hopeful face twists the knife deeper into your heart, but you offer her a gentle smile in return.

“If my schedule allows for it.” You open your arms to accept the final hug she wanted to give you, thankful that you had half a mind to clean yourself up further after you tryst in the kitchen. “I’d love to come visit, you know that.”

At her happy squeal, she finally detached from you, shifting to fully stand on the other side of your doorway, where Wanda had been silently waiting for the last ten minutes, emerald eyes never straying far from you, and you offer her one last smile.

“Drive safe you two,” you warn, what you hope is a good natured expression on your face. “I want you two to be intact when I see you next.”

Your daughter laughs brightly at that, already moving to unload all of her bags in the car, leaving just you and Wanda standing on the porch. A tension falling between you two instantly.

“It was nice to see you, Wanda,” you say, trying to be diplomatic about this entire thing. “I hope the journey back won’t be too long.”

Wanda’s lips thin. “Don’t—” She turns to look back, making sure your daughter is still getting situated in the car. “Don’t treat me like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re saying goodbye.”

You shake your head, a bitter feeling welling within your chest. “Aren’t I?” At the clear look that she’s about to rebuke your statement, you continue. “We’ve both agreed that you need to work on your marriage, Wanda. That you need to try and fix what’s been broken. To do that you can’t see me, and I can’t see you. It’d only end us right back where we started.”

“No,” Wanda hisses, making sure to keep her voice low. “I can’t not talk to you, can’t not see you, I won’t be able to survive.”

Your hand twitches at your side, wanting nothing more than to reach out and caress her cheek. Take away the anguish, the grief, that’s slowly settling over her beautiful face. “You’ll have to, Wanda. For the time being you’ll have to.” Taking a step back, deeper into the house, you almost sob at Wanda’s innate need to follow you. “We’ll see each other again. Once we’ve gotten one another out of our systems, once we’ve learned to be near one another without being together, we’ll see one another again.”

Wanda’s anguish is palpable to you, the pain shown so clearly within her emerald eyes, but you can’t back down. Not from this, not when you’ve finally found the strength to do what you should have done from the start.

The honking of the car in your driveway pulls your attention from her to your daughter’s impatient face. “You have to go.” You don’t turn back to her, knowing that if you saw her pain again you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself. “You have a long drive ahead of you.”

There’s a brief best of silence, wherein Wanda clearly waits for you to look at her, to do something, but you can’t. Not now. So, after another moment, she makes a noise low in her throat, almost like a wounded animal, and barely mutters out. “Goodbye.”

Something begins to rot in your chest, but you only allow a sad smile to twist your lips.

“Goodbye, Wanda.”

And, with that, she steps away from you, getting into the car, and driving off, disappearing down the road and out of your life for the foreseeable future. It’s only once you’re sure they’re gone, when you’re safely hidden behind the closed and locked door of your house, that you allow the tears to come, for your own anguish and grief to come to the surface.

You know what you did was the right thing. That it’d be better for yourself and Wanda for the long run, but that didn’t make it any easier.

Nor did it stop you from wishing that she’d come back.

[biblio-smia]

Can I get family visiting your house w/ Peter Parker, please? 💙❤️

(list #1, prompt #9)

"peter, honey, you've got to relax."

"darling, i am really trying!"

the oven goes off just as the doorbell rings, keeping your hands busy while sending peter deeper into a frenzy.

your oven mitts are still on, warm on peter's arms as you try to hold him.

"see? dinner's out of the oven and it's going to taste amazing because it always comes out amazing when you make it-"

"honey, we've got to get the door-"

"coming!" you call over your shoulder as the second bell rings. "this is going to go great."

"i love you," peter nods, pressing a kiss to your cheek before motioning his head towards the door. "i think they're yours."

he leaves to start making dinner a little bit more presentable.

"it's still hot!" you call, throwing your oven mitts off and vaguely in peter's direction while you make your way to the door, hoping your face isn't as shiny with sweat as it feels.

you open the door to greet your parents just as aunt may's head appears in the hallway.

"hi!" you squeak, nerves building in your throat. "come in!"

you wave everybody in, letting them take in the redecorating you and peter have done since the last time they've visited. this isn't the first time your family or aunt may have come to visit but it's the first time they've had to interact with each other. while you and peter are sure aunt may will get along with your family just fine, peter can admit he still walks on eggshells, desperate for approval.

aunt may introduces herself politely, smile warm and inviting. you're watching, trying not to show fear - it'll just make peter even more nervous. peter emerges from the kitchen with a slightly-too-wide smile, greeting everyone and pressing a kiss to aunt may's cheek.

peter waves the group over to the dinner table, carefully set by the two of you with placemats and every utensil you could think of. peter politely pulls the seats out for the ladies, earning himself a proud smile from aunt may.

most of dinner consists of praise for peter's cooking which brings a very cute blush to his face. you squeeze peter's hand under the table as the tips of his ears turn red, pressing a little kiss to his cheek when most eyes are averted.

you and peter start clearing plates moments after utensils are set down, your guests crossing the small distance to the living room, admiring the area.

it hasn't changed much, really, but instances like these are rare that your space feels new to your family every time they visit. between your combined work schedules and peter's off-the-clock job, it's a struggle to find time where the two of you feel up to having guests over; the first time your family had visited, they had shown up unannounced (peter still remembers almost falling off a building reading that text).

peter shows up with after-dinner drinks and, somehow, with dish soap suds on his cheek, which you thumb off quickly.

neither of your nerves have quite settled yet, despite how well everything seems to be going. you're not sure you'll be able to completely relax until long after everyone leaves.

"so, how about a tour?"

peter and you had spent hours scrubbing every crevice and making sure everything was exactly where it was supposed to be. at least it paid off with the oohs and aahs, decor being admired and pictures on the wall getting recognized.

the night wraps up with a few drinks in everyone, loosening them up enough to get comfortable sharing old childhood stories of you and peter, much to your embarrassment. at least, at your expenses, your families have found common ground, laughter echoing throughout the room.

everyone begins to say their goodbyes as the clock nears twelve and you're incredibly grateful you had the foresight to call off tomorrow.

you and peter wave off the last person to leave, watching as they disappear into their respective vehicles and into the night.

you let out a breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding, pulling peter in for a squeeze.

"we did it," he grins, pressing a kiss to your cheek. "i think we deserve some i survived shirts."

you laugh into his neck and he places an arm on your back, leading you back into your apartment.

"that went well, right?" peter asks once the two of you have settled into bed, facing each other while peter tangles your hands in his.

"i think it went very well," you reassure. "you know my family adores you, right?"

"oh, pssh."

"they do, pete. keep asking when i'm gonna marry you."

peter flushes once again, burying his face into his pillow.

you're laughing at his agony, waiting for him to come back up for air to press kisses all over his reddened face.

"i will," peter says softly in between kisses.

"hmm?" you ask somewhere between the corner of his lips and his jaw.

"marry you."

you stop for a second to look at peter in the dim light that's managed to shine through.

"yeah, you better," you mumble with a smile, pressing a kiss to peter's lips.

part of v's 1000 follower celebration | main masterlist

[shoverse]

sfw — thinkin bout bestfriend! jeongin, who loves to joke about how 'rizzful' he is, giggling loudly when you turn your head slowly in faux horror and feign a disgusted expression. not that you don't believe him, of course, he's always out. it's just that he he always comes home and flops onto the couch next to you, sipping a fresh (not really) lemonade he bought from the seven eleven down the road. 'what movie today?' he asks, resting his head on your shoulder, peering into your eyes.

jeongin, who wakes you up to the sweet smell of fluffy pancakes, setting the table with his favourite weaved placemat and hanging up his pretty white apron. he smiles softly and wishes you good morning, voice soaked in morning grog. the pretty heart he meticulously carved into your butter was already half-melted, your own heart melting into the familiarity of it all.

jeongin, who was there for your first crush, first love, first heartbreak. he'll, he's been there for every heartbreak. he sneaks into your room and sits next to you on your bed, rubbing your back and letting you cry into his chest.

jeongin, who buys you pretty flowers on every occasion possible. he picks out the best bunch of sunflowers, wraps them up in a checkered yellow cloth and scribbles out a heartfelt note for you. something about how you're his sun always slips in, about how pretty you are, but he crosses it out and starts again.

jeongin, who turns just a shade pinker every time you thank him for the flowers. smiles so wide and offers to spend the rest of the day with you. you accept, of course, who could ever turn a boy like him down?

jeongin, who's been with you since the start, smiling his sunshine boy smile, drawing bright yellow tulips on the sidewalk. he wipes his chalk covers fingers on you and sticks his little tongue out. the tongue that slowly retracts as you sport a devilish grin and chase the shrieking boy down the road.

jeongin, who spends weeks learning how to paint from hyunjin, trying not to get frustrated when he messes up. he grins and calls it effortless when the painting finally ends up in your hand, but his shy smile hints at something else.

jeongin, who demands that 'as best friends, we are obliged to get matching phone cases'. he giggles every time you tap your phone cases together and completes the cartoon on the back of your phones.

jeongin, who sits on a picnic blanket with you, picking daisies and weaving them into your hair. he rests his head on your lap as you absentmindedly play with his hair and watch the sun set. he squeals and rolls off of you when a drop from your mango popsicle drips onto his forehead.

jeongin, who robs jisung of his nail polish so you two could match colours. he spends his afternoon focusing on getting your nails absolutely perfect, scrunching up his nose and furrowing his eyebrows. he smiles when you take dozens of pictures of yours and his interlocking fingers.

jeongin, who humors you and agrees to play a game of truth or dare with you. it's tame at first, stupid questions like 'what's the fattest shit you've ever taken?' (okay, maybe not exactly that.) until it's not. i mean, you don't think it's that serious, chewing on your snacks and thinking up interesting questions. when the words fall from your lips, he clams up immediately. 'do you like anyone?' he opens his mouth to say no, but what slips out instead is what he's kept locked away for all those years.

'you.'

jeongin, who's a terrible kisser. maybe it's his nerves, maybe he's just bad, but it makes you laugh into the kiss. he tastes like honey, sweet and infatuating. his lips are soft, he slips his hand behind your neck and smiles when he pulls away. he rests his forehead against yours and erupts into an explosion of laughter.

jeongin, who hugs you close to his chest that night, whispering into your hair as you drift off to sleep. you're so perfect, he's so glad he can finally say it.

jeongin, who's yours. that is all.

[creations-by-chaosfay]

Commission Menu!

I've removed the "Pay What You Want" commission option, though you can pay more than my asking price on any of the commissions. The commission menu itself has been increased though! I had originally intended to open commissions in September, but emergencies happened, forcing me to open them early.

On the menu are:

A set of four quilted magnets or decorative pins.

A set of four coasters, with several options for more coasters as well as insulated batting to make them into hot pads/pot holders.

A single mug rug, with insulated batting as an option. For my shop, I use insulated batting for the mug rugs. For commissioned pieces, it's two layers of cotton batting or an extra $5 for insulated batting.

Due to popular demand, a single serving dining set. This is for a single placemat and matching coaster.

A four piece placemat set. If you would like me to make more placemats for a set, please contact me about this.

A single mini quilt. These range from 18x18 inches to 25x25 inches. They're excellent wall and table decorations!

A single table runner. I'm rather fond of these because of how flexible they are with regards to use. How so? Hang them on a wall, drape over the back of a couch, lay across a car seat, use it on an altar or shrine, etc.

A pine tree wallhanging. These are an excellent alternative to a Yuletide tree. They're hung on a wall and you can decorate it with your favorite pins or buttons. If you would like some decorative pins, I can make those (see the first item on this list). No trees will be cut down, cats won't be climbing up it nor break ornaments, it takes just a couple minutes to set up or take down. Storage is also very easy! Oh, and it can be made with a wide range of colors.

A rag quilt. I have different size options available! These are made using a quilt-as-you-go technique and are very quickly made. Oh, and they're EXTREMELY warm! My house gets very chilly in winter, and the rag quilt I've made for myself works like magic.

Just the quilt top. This is available in several sizes, the largest being twin. This is for just the quilt top. You will need to purchase backing, batting, and either do the quilting yourself or hire someone else. You will also receive all fabric scraps left after the sewing is done.

Please read over the details and don't be afraid to ask questions. If you're a monthly supporter, you will automatically receive a 15% discount, but you have the option to pay more than my asking price should you decide you don't want to use the discount.

Please reblog! It's the only way other people will see this post. Liking this is only a bookmark for you. Remember, Tumblr is a blogging site with social features; it's not a social media site. You are, however, welcome to share this post on any social media site you use.

Remember: commissioning me, purchasing anything from my shop, or donating to my goal will earn you an entry into winning a free quilt when said goal is reached.

Commissions close November 1st.

After November 1st, I'll be focusing on making a stack of quick and easy quilt tops to practice free motion quilting. Those quilts will be sold at a steep discount. Once I'm comfortable with FMQ, I'll be making larger quilts again, and these will be listed in the shop.

At some point, I'll take a break. Financially speaking, that's not really an option unless we pay off the last vet bill and the water heater installation. If those goals are met, then yes, I'll take a long overdue and well-earned break.

If you're willing to give me full artistic license and the only input you give is choosing the size range from the commission menu, use GOHOGWILD for a 15% discount. Please know there's a 90% chance it will be a Halloween quilt. Halloween is my favorite month, and celebrating it with quilts is always a pleasure. You are not required to use the coupon code, and there's the option to pay more than my asking price. I just really want to make some Halloween quilts.

Here are samples of my work, some of which you can purchase from my shop here.

[trashpandacraft]

I found fibrecraft tumblr after searching drop spindles because my dad *didn’t even know what that was.* And despite having been firmly of the opinion that I didn’t intend to learn it, y’all have me getting ever closer to giving in. However, I’m also growing ever more enamored with the idea of weaving - and despite recently deciding to give knitting and crochet another go - I think it looks the most fun of the fiber crafts. My issue is that I have absolutely no space.

But I’m beginning to realize there’s a lot of different looms and types of weaving. So I was wondering if you have any resources or tips for small space methods and storage?

welcome to fibrecraft tumblr! it's fun here, we have enablers.

i will admit that while i love knitting, weaving is amazing, and is much better with regards to instant gratification—weaving for an hour gets you a lot more fabric than knitting for an hour.

so let's talk about weaving, because i have great news for you: you can 100% totally weave in a small space if you want to, and you even have options for how you do it. i'm going to go through basically all the small space weaving options that i'm aware of in roughly size order, and if you make it to the bottom of this you'll have a pretty good overview of space-saving weaving methods.

the first question to ask yourself is what you want to weave. maybe you're not sure yet, which is totally fine. if you don't immediately have strong feelings about it, though, maybe consider if band weaving strikes your fancy. this is pretty limited in size, but lets you weave belts, straps (like camera or bag straps), lanyards, etc.

if you think that sounds neat, it's worth looking into tablet weaving, an inkle loom, or a band/tape loom. tablet weaving takes up no space at all—if you can fit a stack of index cards into your life, you can fit tablet weaving. the tablets are small square cards, often made out of heavy cardstock, and even with a project on them, you can probably fit them into an index card holder.

inkle looms are larger, and to be honest i've never used one and don't know a ton about them, but they're also used for making woven bands. the looms can also be very aesthetically pleasing, if that's something you're into. they can be very big, but the ashford inklette, for example, is only 36 cm long and maybe 12 cm wide.

tape looms are—in my experience, anyhow—larger than tablet weaving but smaller than inkle looms, and even the larger ones are only about shoebox size. they vary widely, from gorgeous, complicated little looms to a handheld paddle that you use to create a shed, which is what you put your yarn through when you're weaving.

if that doesn't sound like good times, consider a frame loom. these are pretty simple—if you ever wove potholders out of stretchy cloth strips as a kid, you probably used a frame loom to do it on. frame looms are generally inexpensive and readily available, and can be used for small woven objects like potholders, coasters, placemats, etc. they can also be used to make some truly stunning tapestries. while you can buy a huge frame loom, you're still only talking about huge in two directions—it might be as wide as your armspan, but it's still only a couple inches thick.

another option is a pin loom. these don't get mentioned a lot, and i'm not totally sure why. pin looms are shapes with a bunch of pins (metal points, usually) coming out of them. on one hand, you're limited to making things that are the shape of the loom, but on the other hand, if you've been hanging around fibrecraft tumblr, you've seen all the things crocheters get up to with granny squares, right? there's no reason in the world that you can't do all those things with the squares made on a pin loom. or the hexagons! or the triangles! i've been kinda thinking about getting a little hexagon or triangle pin loom and using it to sample my handspun, then turning the shapes into a blanket.

if you hate all of that, that's ok! we have more options.

you could consider a backstrap loom, which is an ancient way of weaving that's still practiced today in many places. backstrap looms are cool because you can weave probably 24 inches wide on them, but even with a project on it, they take almost no room at all. backstrap looms are fairly easy to diy, because they're basically a bunch of dowels, so they can be a good low-cost way to try out weaving. backstrap looms will let you make longer, wider fabric than anything else we've mentioned so far!

another option—stay with me—is a toy loom. there are a number of cheap looms for sale on amazon/ali express/some local places that are actually fully functional looms. recently i've seen a number of people (like sally pointer, though i'm sure i've seen someone using one of the brightly coloured harness looms, as well) who've used them and report that they're functional, if basic, looms. you're fairly constrained in terms of project size, since there's not a lot of space for the finished fabric to wind on, and there's a very limited width, but the looms are quite small and tuck away easily.

ok, but so what if you hate all of those options? don't worry—there are more options! this is the part where things get expensive, though.

as looms go, rigid heddle looms are actually quite reasonably sized. i think the smallest one i've seen is a 40cm (~16") weaving width, which is about 50x60 (20x24") in length/width, and 13cm (5") high. so that's more space than anything else we've talked about, but it's still not a ton of space, you know? a 40cm rigid heddle will let you weave lovely scarves and things of that nature—table runners, placemats, strips of woven fabric to whipstitch together into a blanket, etc.

but maybe that's enough. so let's talk about table looms. some of them are quite large—mine, for example, is about a metre square and sits on a frame that it came with. it is not what you would call space efficient. but many of them, especially modern ones, are very compact, and can even be folded up into something more or less briefcase sized. (weird way to consider it, since the last time i saw a briefcase was probably the 80s, but you know what i mean, i bet.) the cool part here is that you can weave damn near anything you want on a table loom. the less cool part is that for the compact ones that fold up, you're looking at hundreds if not thousands of dollars. the smallest one i'm aware of is the louët erica, which folds down to 42x62x42cm (16.5x24.5x16.5") and gives you 40cm (16") of weaving width. i feel like that's impressively small. you'd have to decide for yourself if that's enough to justify the $500 usd/$800 aud price tag, though.

finally, we've come to folding floor looms. i don't think someone who's never woven before should run out and buy one of these unless money is just literally not at all a concern for you, but they are basically the dream for those of us trapped in crappy rentals, and it seemed weird to leave them out when i'd come this far.

some floor looms are various levels of collapsible. to be clear, this does you absolutely no good at all when you're actively weaving, because you have to unfold them to weave, but it does you a lot of good if you'd like to have a floor loom and still have the ability to, say, walk through the living room when you're not actively using the loom.

most relevant to our discussion about small weaving footprints, some looms fold up entirely. they are incredibly fucking expensive and incredibly fucking cool. the two that i'm most aware of are the leclerc compact and the schacht wolf line, both of which fold up to about half of their unfolded depth. they're still not small—i think that they're both the better part of 75cm (30") wide and tall, so even if they fold down to 40cm (16") deep, they're still 75cm wide and tall. which is Fairly Large, though much better than having something 80cm deep sitting in the middle of the floor.

this was a very, very long post, but hopefully makes it clear that there's a surprisingly wide range of options, and they all have advantages and trade offs. if you're asking my opinion, my suggestion would be to try something—anything—with a backstrap setup and see how you feel about it. maybe you love it and keep at it forever, in which case you're in good company: there are entire cultures that weave exclusively on backstrap looms.

if you like producing cloth but don't love the backstrap setup, or don't like using your body to tension the warp, you have a lot of other options, and you're out maybe ten dollars of dowels.

personally, my next loom is probably going to be a pin loom. unless i win lotto, in which case it's going to be a house that has a weaving studio and like four floor looms in it. but probably a pin loom.

[jenniferrvsesi]

HELPING HAND | D.R. 3

summary: just moving to a new place can bring a lot of hardships especially when one of those things is a creepy crawly.

rating: universal

pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

warnings: a spider.

Y/n had only been living in Monaco for about two weeks now. She hadn’t had the chance to look around much with how stressed she had been with her boxes of stuff arriving later than scheduled.

She had only fully unpacked everything the night before and was now just happy to finally be able to relax in her new apartment.

With a huff she gazed at the cream wall in front of her. Only to freeze. Right in front of her was a spider. A big one at that.

God how she disliked the creatures.

Y/n didn’t take her eyes off of the arachnid as she got up off her sofa and slowly walked backwards towards her kitchen, still staring at the eight legged beast as if having a standoff with it.

She blinked and that’s when the spider decided to scutter down the wall and towards the floor. She screamed loudly and immediately jumped over the back of the couch, standing on it.

The spider is now completely gone.

"No, no, no.” She whispered to herself looking around trying to spot the despicable creature.

All of a sudden a knock rang out throughout the apartment. She looked at the door that was all the way on the opposite side of the room she was in.

With a huff, she looked around the room making a game plan on how she was going to get to the door without touching the floor.

"Okay, you've got this." She hyped herself up quietly before making her way to the door, climbing on different pieces of furniture.

With a sigh, she opened the door while standing on her shoe box that was next to it, she revealed a man with curly brown hair, tattoos on his legs and a worried look on his, admittedly handsome, face.

“Hi, I heard screaming from next door and just wanted to make sure you were okay…” The man said before realising something. *I'm Daniel by the way.”

She noticed the Australian accent as he spoke, making him all the more attractive in her opinion. Now is not the time. She thought as she remembered the arachnid that was currently inhabiting her house.

"Oh! Hi... um I'm Y/n and yeah everything is fine! It's all good."

"Are you sure because that was a loud scream?" He joked with a laugh, as he admired the girl who had heard about (from Brenda, a lovely old lady who lived on the other side of him who somehow always had the gossip) but had never seen.

"There's just a spider in my apartment and I am very much scared of them.” Y/n laughed nervously as she looked behind her as if the spider was going to be right there.

She felt embarrassed that this was how she was going to meet her neighbour who was unfairly attractive.

“Oh I can help catch him if you want. I've dealt with a lot of them in Australia." He offered with a polite smile, already wanting to hopefully get to know more about the woman in front of him.

"That would be great!" She agreed eagerly, usually she would be more hesitant to let a man she just met into her house but she just wanted that stupid little creature out of her vicinity.

She let Daniel in before making her way into her kitchen and grabbed a glass that he could use to trap the spider.

"Here." She said, handing it to him. She received a thanks from the man as he glanced around her apartment living room.

Out of the corner of their eyes they noticed a blob scurrying along the floor causing their eyes to dart to it.

Daniel immediately went for it, enclosing it in the glass. With an aha!' he gazed proudly as he stood up right.

Y/n handed the Australian a placemat so he could slide it under. “Do you want to come take it outside with me?" He asked her to which she nodded hoping to use this time to maybe get to know the man more.

After talking on the way to the first floor, they had succeeded in disposing of the eight legged creature.

"Honestly, thank you so much. Y/n told him gratefully as the two made their way back to the elevator. "I have no clue if I would even be able to sleep knowing it was still in my house."

"It's no problem, you don't need to say thanks."

"Well how else can I show my gratitude?" A crooked smile appeared on the man’s face as an idea popped into his head.

"How about dinner sometime?"

authors note: this is so trash bye 😭 but i had thought of the idea last night when a giant spider was in my room and i had to get someone else to get rid of it… anyway! have a lovely rest of your day!!

[sgiandubh]

Show must go on...

... and rather very much in your face, mind you.

Scottish Xena posted two stories at about 7 AM, counting calories, and, in the process, making sure to address roughly any objections that were ventilated on this side of the fandom, including this very page. See for yourself...

What are the odds she'd be talking about nutrition? Right. I am not an idiot. I know when something is way Over The Top - less is more, Xena. Less is always more: there was no need to overdo it like that, placemat and all, if you wanted to remain credible. You read us and you have been instructed to do so, just to perfectly stick to your walking, talking and very profitable Local Innuendo script.

Fair enough. And then, you also tell us that you will be at Hyrox today around noon, to film some ESN promo: your bread and butter, of course. S is just for shits, giggles and that Instagram yield:

So, there's that. *urv connecting dots like crazy, without having the slightest clue of what was discussed at that table. Her own brand of cheap fanfic for the masses, for the other five clowns commenting, out of which three at least are her own sock accounts.

Cue in the Useful Idiot. The Brazilian Tourist and Fan. Uma senhorita tão desagradável, who changed her story in between her first reaction reel and the debrief, back at her suburban Airbnb or where the fuck that was filmed.

First reaction reels:

'Just saw SH.' Not alone, oh no: 'com uma moça'. With a girl. So yeah, she had qualms asking for a pic.

First lie and dramatization. She posts a message for S where she explains she did not dare approach him, but she saw him alright. The one in Portuguese is completely different, though: 'I am going to post the video without sound, because I could only say "what a shame", while I was filming him on the sly. LOL.' I guess she thinks we are all idiots, or something. Also, in her reel, she confirms: 'ele estava almoçando com outra pessoa'/he was having lunch with another person. So far, so good, right?

Six hours later, a second debrief batch of reels, taking her reader's questions. The narrative changes, with a strong bias:

'Yes, he is super accessible and educated! I did not freak out, I just politely asked to take a pic (what I do consider the right way to approach famous people, at the end they are still human beings).'

For the people in the back: she is a lady. And a liar. The worst kind of liar, actually: a narcissistic one. Let's see what else she takes great pains telling us: 'ele tem um fandom bem tóxico'/he has a very toxic fandom. From now on, we just know what to expect, right?

Second answer, she explains he is very tall. He went inside to pay the bill and then he also went towards the bathroom (wtf?), she followed him inside, she asked for the menu, he finally went out and she approached him ('abordei' - 🙄) between the door and her table. Classy.

Cue in to a third answer (and second lie) to a very odd question: 'what did he smell like?' or something along those lines. For this one, I had to ask confirmation from Shipper Mom, who told me two things (she knew next to nothing about the whole episode- no bias): ' it's damn hard to understand what the hell she is talking about, she is eating half of her words. Plus you can tell she is lying.'

He doesn't smell, she tells us. But hey, she also freaked out a bit, finally (I thought she hadn't?!) and then well, 'ele estava com outra pessoa, uma moça, deve ser a namorada dele'/ he was with another person, a girl, probably his girlfriend'. But then he went inside (again? wasn't he coming out of the venue?), 'and the girl stayed at the table'. Things go murky afterwards, like they absolutely always do: she tells us she spoke to her (?), but would not say anything more, yet making sure to tell us she 'saw both of them'.

If anyone has a better version than mine, please step forward: we listened three times in a row, with Shipper Mom, a teacher of Portuguese and published literary translator. She was appalled by this young woman's carelessness and mendacity.

The Brazilian Tourist Fan is 23 years old (and it shows), she presents herself as a journalist and writer:

Seriously? What are the odds?

And finally, to wrap it up, the classical cheering moment, at yesterday's Hyrox: ' yeah, Sarah, nice!'

Nice, indeed.

FFS. Will it ever end?

Yes, it will. Anything ends: even Stalin's terror.

[machveil]

König headcanon

okay, so I’ve read some stuff about how König would have a very minimalist apartment/house - and I agree wholeheartedly. But let me raise you this:

König, who’s living bare to the bones, adopting a little, fluffy cat

just the smallest, cutest little thing. always giving him gentle little purrs and follows him around everywhere

at first he just has the essentials - litter box, a cute little cat bed doesn’t even use it, sleeps in his bed, food and water bowls, a couple fun toys

he’s a sucker for his little kitty though, and seeing her gently headbutt against his ankle for attention melts his heart

suddenly he’s buying her different collars (and matching leashes because he is definitely taking her on walks with him)

he bought a cat tree for her… and then upgraded to a whole cat highway throughout his home

she needs to be able to explore everything, might as well let her race around the walls, right?

his little kitty is a massive sunbather, she adores the warm sunlight

but when it’s cloudy and dreary outside he’s buying her two heating pads - one for the couch and one is his room

suddenly König’s home is covered in cat toys and fluffy items for her to snuggle up to

his couch that had nothing on it before? Fluffy blanket draped over it, a couple soft pillows, and a heating pad

his kitchen that was getting no love? Jars of cat treats that are never empty and an automatic feeder with a little placemat under it. He’s suddenly buying new cooking equipment so he can make his little cat homemade treats.

his prison looking bedroom is suddenly full of life - his brick of a mattress is replaced with a softer one so she’s more inclined to cuddle up to him, there’s a massive quilt suddenly thrown on the bed, his pillows double so she can lay about on them. There’s little mice toys all over the place, her old cat tree set next to his window so she can sit on top of it and look outside

so yeah, minimalist König is always top tier, but König making his home the most cat friendly place ever is just a little better in my opinion.

he definitely changes his at-home wardrobe to be more comfy so his kitty is snuggly with him

[ureksbaby]

little things

summary : gojo loves the little moments with you

w.c : 934

type : short fic

gojo comes home to the smell of your cooking. it’s one of the few consistent things about the chaos of his life. while the smell may be different each day, it reminds him of his hunger; it brings a comfort in knowing that you were prepared for that.

he kicks off his shoes and hangs his jacket up on the hooks that you had insisted on putting on the wall by the door. they’re a little crooked, you had put them up yourself, and despite him telling you that the two of you have no need for them, he uses them every single day. whether that’s because you were right or because he chooses to humour you is constantly up for debate between the two of you.

he walks down the hallway to the kitchen, unsurprised to see you at the stove, sporting the ‘will cook for sex’ apron he had bought you for christmas one year. you had squealed and told him that he was so crude. still, you were wearing it every time he walked through the door. you tell him it’s only because you don’t want to get your clothes dirty and that you have no other aprons. he knows that you keep your plain, less ‘crude’ aprons at the back of the cupboard under the stairs for when your family visit.

he watches you for a few moments, as you quietly hum his favourite song. you’re no good of a singer, but he loves to hear it anyway.

“smells amazing my smoochums.” he sings from the doorway, making you jump. you swirl on your toes, turning to face him with a beaming smile on your face, completely unfazed at this point by the cringy nicknames he tries to give you,

“ah, satoru! you’re home.” you cheer, putting down your tongs and crossing the expansive kitchen to kiss him on the cheek. your lipgloss always sticks to his skin, but he waits for you to turn back to your cooking before wiping it off with the back of his hand. he follows you back to the stove, wrapping his arms around your waist as you cook.

he knows it’s probably no help having him cling to you while you’re trying to work, but you never complain,

“how was your day?” you ask him, stirring the broth in the pot with a practiced hand. he shrugs,

“it was fine: nothing too crazy. although… the first years ruined my shirt.” he tells you. you titter,

“i hope you didn’t ask for them to pay for it.” you muse and he squawks

“why shouldn’t they? they spilt coffee on my lovely new shirt!” he laments, pretending to cry into your shoulder. you reach around and pat his head pityingly

“we’ll try and get it dry-cleaned. and if that doesn’t work, i’ll buy you a new one.” you say sweetly. he laughs,

“and with what money are you going to do that with?” he asks teasingly. you flick his forehead

“yours, of course.” you joke, grin ever-present on your face, “but you’ll have the privilege of having a shirt picked out by me. it’ll be even better than the one that got coffee-d.”

he whines,

“are you insulting my fashion sense?”

you raise an eyebrow, gesturing to the apron you were wearing,

“yes.” you say simply, but he knows it’s in jest. removing his arms from your waist, you wave him away, “now go sit down! dinner’s almost ready.”

he does as he’s told, sitting down at the table in his usual spot, sat in front of the pink placemat that simply read ‘sugartits’. bringing over the food, you place his in front of him and sit down opposite him at your own ‘massive penis’ placemat. evidently, it’s meant to be the other way around, but you had set them out wrong one time, and the two of you had found it so funny that it became tradition.

“thanks, i’m starving.” gojo comments, before digging in. there was never any need to hesitate when it came to your cooking.

you tell him about your day over dinner, as you always do and he listens. you tell him about all the little things you got up to, acting out stories. you inadvertently slow down your eating as you talk and he slows his down too, despite how hungry he is, so that he can keep listening to you without you ever becoming aware that you had slowed down in the first place.

it’s only small talk, but it doesn’t seem so small to gojo. it was pretty big to him.

he loves you.

when you finish eating, and he finishes with you at, conveniently, the same time, he takes the dishes and begins to wash them up. you follow him, drying the plates and putting them away. you chat away to each other even then, about nothing important, just happy to hear the sound of the other’s voice.

he helps you put away one of the bowls on the top shelf; he unties your apron and hangs it up for you; he kisses the top of your head and thanks you for dinner. you put his favourite show on; you let him rest his head on your lap while he watches; he gets into bed before you and notices that you had arranged his pillows in exactly the way he likes.

they're little things, he knows. but when you climb into bed beside him, immediately curling up into his side, fitting perfectly against him - he realises just how much he loves all of these little things.

[ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff]

An Evening of Persuasion (John Price x Reader)

Summary: An unstoppable force (your desire to get your captain a somewhat regular sleep schedule) meets an immovable object (Price immersed within an endless pile of paperwork).

AN: Had a go at writing John Price. Once again, please don’t make fun of me. It’s already bad enough I’m down horrendous for a man with mutton chops.  Thank you everyone who voted in the poll! I’ll post them in the order of the results.

Reader is GN with no use of Y/N.

Content warning: 

Masterlist // AO3

The late-night interaction started with you being a hypocrite. Your policy of “knock and wait until the person on the other side of the door allows you to enter” was one you’d held long before you joined the military. It was the bare minimum level of respect that could be shown, as well as a display of patience.

Tonight you committed the ultimate sin: you knocked as you opened the door.

From his desk, Captain Price spoke with the heaviest of sarcastic tones as you closed the door to his office behind you: “Yes, please, come in. No need to wait outside until I’m ready.”

The famed boonie hat was off and sitting politely by his buzzing desk lamp. His hands were bare, their gloves paired and no doubt in his middle desk drawer. One of his hands reached for his mug whilst he kept scanning the sheet of paper in the other. He only looked up when he patted the placemat – not his mug – to see you holding his drink hostage, staring down into the blackness that occupied it.

“You can’t drink this; you’ll be up all night!” You frowned.

“That’s the point.” Hand open, palm up, eyebrows raised, Price began to stare you down. His silent steely eyes held you like a deer in the headlights. Except you had far better control over your instincts and knowledge of your Captain that ran deeper than the Marianas Trench.

After blinking first out of the two of you, you held the mug to your lips and started chugging the coffee down.

“For God’s sake,” grunted Price. He was up and out of his chair.

Celebrating the success of getting him to move, you circled around the desk backwards, still holding the coffee out of reach, “It’s gone eleven; you need to go to bed.”

Price was unrelenting, “Give me the coffee.”

“You’re gonna regret it in the morning!”

“You’re already gonna regret it; I’m putting you on bathroom duty for the next two weeks.”

The hand was already back out, not close enough to make a sudden grab for the mug. It was a power play. His success required you to give it up willingly, and he was adding to the pressure of the return.

“Three weeks. Give it back.”

Making more demands though, he didn’t have to do that – just add to the punishment and let that speak for itself. He must really be tired.

Rather than push that tactic, you decided to butter him up instead and make him lower his guard by handing back the coffee mug. He didn’t even smile at his success. An ache grew in your chest, melancholy in the absence of those eye crinkles that appeared whenever John’s grin grew across his face. You watched him sit back down at his desk, replacing the coffee mug, before he leant back and sighed deeply with his face hidden in a hand.

“John?” You said quietly. He let out a low hum but didn’t look at you.

You followed the path he’d taken until you were stood behind him. With a firm squeeze on his shoulders, you wrapped your arms loosely around his neck and rested your chin on his head.

“Why are you so persistent, eh?” He said gruffly

“Because I care about you,” You mumbled before kissing his cheek and releasing him in favour of spinning him around in his chair to face you, “C’mon, you can leave it until tomorrow.”

Captain John Price did not rise from his office chair. Instead, one of his feet kicked up to rest on the opposite’s knee. He lifted then tilted his head, his fore and middle finger stroking over his bottom lip, teasing it into a smirk as he watched you through slitted eyelids.

“What?” You folded your arms, struggling not to fidget further.

John pursed his lips, “Just lookin’ at you.”

“That’s a dirty tactic, Captain.”

“Pulling rank is a dirty tactic – and an odd choice for you to make, considering I outrank you by a very large margin.”

“Don’t I know it,” You popped out your right hip with a grin.

Your double entendre scored you a couple of points, since you got to hear Price’s hearty laugh for a few seconds. It broke his stare as his head lolled back, only returning once his mirth had ended – the only clue to its existence the glint in his blue eyes and the crinkles at the corners.

Carefully, as if to avoid a HR violation, he said, “Are you trying to seduce me into bed?”

How dare he, when he was sat looking at you and looking like that, accused you of such a thing. Sure, you’d done it before and it had been very effective, but you has to act like you were slightly above using sex to get John to prioritise his health over his paperwork. Set an example and all that.

“I don’t need to,” You replied, “Because my boyfriend is going to do what I ask.”

“Is he now?” John raised his eyebrows.

After another brief stare down, you rolled up the sleeves of your shirt: “Fine. Can’t say I didn’t try being nice.”

And that’s how you ended up perched in his lap, nice and comfortable and straddling his thick thighs. You didn’t miss the quirk of John’s lips before he ironed out his expression to remain neutral; that became especially difficult to maintain as he shuffled the chair around to face the desk.

“Hope you don’t use these torture techniques on anyone else,” he signed a document and placed it in his out tray – his very small out tray.

“No, I save them for geriatric stubborn superior officers.”

“I’d be very surprised if Ghost let you try this out.”

“Are you kidding? He’s all over me,” You said, bobbing and weaving your head from side to side as John tried to get a good look at the next file behind you.

John scoffed to (poorly) hide the wince, “Don’t say that.”

“Jealous?”

“Disgusted.”

“You brought him up; one might call it a dirty tactic.” You were very pleased with that one. “I’ll stop talking about it if you come to bed.”

“Extortion! Now we’re talking.”

“A language you can understand, at last!”

“… Fine!” John capped his pen then kissed you on the forehead, “I’ll go to my room.”

“Now?”

“Now.”

Even with this assurance, you continued to monitor him close down his office for the night and retire to his private quarters. That meant watching him get undressed, occasionally helping him with an item of clothing he clearly wasn’t struggling with.

When he was down to his undershirt, you headed towards the door, but John caught your elbow neatly, “Hang on, you’re not staying? After all that hard work putting moves on your superior officer?”

You untangled yourself from him, “No, you put me on toilet duty for three weeks.”

“Sweetheart-”

“Shut up and get into bed.”

John didn’t try holding back the smile or the flush hidden mostly by his mutton chops, "Technically, I only agreed to go to my room.”

“John!”

“I'll get into bed if you tuck me in.”

“Toilet duty. Three weeks.”

“I’ll lower it to one week.”

“No, you won’t.”

As he sidled away from you, John sighed, “I guess you know me too well.”

“Oh, I see what this is,” You said as he languidly removed his sleep shirt with his back, his gorgeous back, to you, “You’re trying to seduce me again.”

“Just taking turns, it’s only fair.”

With a flourish, John discarded the shirt into his laundry basket. You had to redirect your gaze to the ceiling because, if you could see any part of his chest, you would not be able to control yourself and you couldn’t let him catch you ogling openly.

“Fair, right. You don’t ever play fair,” You deflected, temptation approaching in your peripherals.

“I find that accusation offensive.” You stiffened as, with ease, John lifted you up into his arms and smirked since he’d given you no option but to look at him. “If anything, my playing this way balances out your actions in my office.”

You weren’t immune to his charm; he’d eroded your iron will into a rusty stump. So, as he carried you over to the bed, your hands slid up to link behind the back of his neck and you relaxed a little.

Still, you couldn’t help but throw another quip his way: “Getting practice in?”

John paused before sitting down on the bed with you over his lap, “For what?”

“Weight lifting, Gaz said you were trying it out the other day. Got matching sweatbands and legwarmers.”

It was a lie that doubled as a rib. But there wasn’t any retort to this fabrication; John started unlacing your boots instead, acting more interested in getting you to sleep with/beside him than whatever slip-up he’d just skidded on. Thing was, you weren’t sure what the slip-up was, what was making him act like this. If you weren’t about to curl up atop the blankets and snooze, you’d probably have been able to work out what was suddenly bothering him, and maybe you’d be more subtle. But it was almost midnight and you’d had a 5:30 start, so you just asked him outright:

“Why, what did you think it was practice for?”

“Dragging your arse around while out in the field,” John replied, tugging off one of the boots to toss it over by his. Your pride wasn’t wounded because that was the biggest fib you’d heard.

You bent your leg, holding your foot hostage, “Johnathan Price, tell me now or I’ll go to my own bunk.”

But the use of his full name didn’t dissuade him. No, John grabbed you by the ankle and dragged back, causing you to slide back against him. He raised his eyebrows at you when you tried tugged it back, effectively ceasing your resistance to receive his revelation.

“Thought about carrying you to our bed on our wedding night.” His blue eyes held you still for that revelation, setting your stomach into knots, then he was back to untying your laces.

You knew he had nerves of steel, but John remaining pretty casual after confessing to a daydream of marriage between you both? You would’ve had more composure dealing with bomb defusal. Even now, your face was hot, your throat was drying up, and you weren’t even the one to confess.

Marriage, you’d mentioned it by the third week of the relationship, saying that it was something you would like with the right person and he was looking like that right person. John agreed and, after a quick one in his private shower, you left the subject there beside your recently relocated shampoo bottle. There hadn’t really been any other mentions of it before now, and that was over a year ago – maybe fourteen months? But, in the occasional instance of space whilst waiting for evac, your mind had considered seeing Price at the end of an aisle or even sat a registrar’s office in smart civvies. Gaz had caught you smiling to yourself once and teased you about it for two weeks after.

It took until your boots were reunited on the floor that you resurfaced from your racing train of thought. You stood up as elegantly as you could, even though John’s gaze was resolute on your face, watching and waiting for your response. Well, here it was.

“And,” You began unbuckling your belt, “What if I wanted to carry you to our bed on our wedding night?”

God. His face.

The shock took a split second to wear off. Spreading across his face like the rising sun was that smile, close-lipped with scrunched up eyes, like he was watching you open a present he knew you were bound to love almost as much as he loved you. Absolutely cheesing away at you, and it made you feel like your bones were gonna collapse from under you.

“Did you think of that?” You added.

“Can’t say I did,” John shook his head, keeping his warm eyes on you, “But, if that’s the case, you better join me with the weightlifting then, Lieutenant Price-to-be.”

“Love this assumption I’m taking your name.” That retort came quick. You were still a little immune to his charms.

“Why, you keeping yours?” He sounded cocky, and it would’ve been even more effective if he wasn’t reaching out for you to return into his arms whilst you removed his shirt from the laundry and slid into it.

Once you spotted his stance, you stepped back into his grasp, both your hands cradling his jaw, “Was thinking double-barrelled, or you can take mine.”

“Then I’d really be all yours.”

“And everyone would know it.”

He was making you swoon with his stare again, so much so that you had to hold his face and rest your forehead against his to ground yourself. Closer to the sun but it never burnt you - and he never looked at his stupid paperwork like that.

He whispered to you, “Guess what.”

“What?” You waited as he leant around and pursed his lips against your ear.

“I’m still putting you on toilet duty.”

The wheeze from his chest erupted with a splutter at your gawking then shielded his face from your indignant smacks, pushing him so that he was flat on his back.

“You bastard! You’re so mean to me!” You cried, trying to kneel over his hips to pin him down. Instead you were just sat upon him and that definitely wasn’t a bad thing in John’s eyes.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” He stroked over both your thighs, “How can I make it up to you?”

And, while he did look delicious lying there, burning cheeks and beaming up at you, he’d just sealed his fate.

“By getting some shut eye ASAP, and taking your future spouse off toilet duty.”

The downfall of Captain Price: caught in a trap of his own design. He’d be pissed if he wasn’t also proud. Though, of course, he never went without a final negotiation in his favour:

“Only if you stay.”

Ignoring the urge to joke about walking back to your room in just your underwear, you agreed to his terms. He looked pleased as punch laying beneath you; such a shame that you had to get off him to get under the covers on your designated side of the bed. John followed you over your territory for a little bit, kissing away the sting of his jape, before switching the bedside lamp and settling down for the evening. At last!

So, of course, that was when the coffee you chugged earlier kicked in alongside the karma for knocking and entering without waiting.

But then a snore buzzed from John’s side of the bed. So, as he snuggled up beside you, a hand instinctively brushing up against you, that cross to bear was accepted for the sake of your future husband.

[miistymemorii]

Rock The Boat

pariring: shiv roy x fem!reader

summary: You and Shiv find yourself getting to know each other a little better when the two of you are accidentally stranded at sea.

rating: 18+ (smut smut SMUT, no minors!!!!)

wordcount: 2k

A/N : to say i am a placemat for shiv roy (and sarah snook) to stomp all over is an understatement. happy pride bitches. please enjoy.

It was a beautiful moment. You were perched at the very front of the boat, the soft waves causing the ocean spray to sprinkle your skin, the sun beating down on you as you closed your eyes and took in the sound of the water against the boat. Your hair was down, your shoes off, and for once in your career, you found yourself able to relax.

You had been less than enthusiastic when your boss, Shiv Roy, had told you on very short notice that you were to accompany her in Italy for some business meetings with her family. You were a new hire, and you had not had the pleasure of meeting the rest of Shiv's infamous family. To say you were dreading it was an understatement. Shiv had surprised you, though. She wasn't making you do any real work, instead just allowing you to follow her around like an obedient lapdog, letting you take advantage of the fine cuisine and drinks that were being offered.

You had been the one to suggest the boat ride. You and Shiv had gone to dinner with her family, and the entire time you could see the subtle shifts in her demeanor as her father and brothers refused to take her seriously. You figured she deserved a break from her family, so you coaxed her onto a small boat that you had made sure was loaded with her favorite foods and booze.

You heard Shiv clearing her throat behind you, so you opened your eyes and swiveled, smiling at her. She had her usual smirk on her face, but her eyes were softer than usual. She was cautious about enjoying herself, clearly, but you could tell she was trying. "So, do you do sneaky shit like this for all of your bosses, or am I just special?" Shiv teased, sitting down on the seat across from you.

You gave her a small smile, shaking your head. "No, most of my other bosses were pretty insufferable."

Shiv looked away, pretending to focus on the waves. She took a beat, then said, "You don't think I'm insufferable, then, nice to know." She let out a humorless laugh then added, "I think you might be the only one, actually."

Sure, Shiv could be a bitch. You had seen her get cold and snippy with her family and even her husband, but you had also seen her the way she beat herself up, the emotional toll she was taking on herself as someone who had been clearly resorted to bitterness.

There was a lapse of silence, your eyes on her as she kept her gaze on the waves. Shiv finally turned her gaze to you, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You know, it would be a shame if we let all that booze go to waste."

You pretended to feign shock. "Should we really be drinking if we're operating a small nautical vessel, Shiv?"

Shiv let out a short laugh and stood up. "Please, y/n. I can operate this boat drunk better than Rome and Ken can sober. C'mon, show me where you stashed them."

You giggled and hopped up, leading her to the small cooler filled with various cans of alcoholic beverages. You pulled out two cans and held out one to Shiv, who looked at it in your hand then laughed. You realized she was used to finer liquor, of course, but she eventually took the can out of your hands and opened it.

"Sorry, I didn't think to bring anything nice-"

She was already downing it, and your mouth hung open slightly in shock. You had seen her drink before, but it was all sipping the priciest drinks from the daintiest glasses. Now, she was greedily drinking from a can of cheap beer, and she looked so... normal. You opened your own can and started sipping, figuring one of you should be more sober if you wanted to get back to shore. Shiv reached down and scooped up some more cans, then wordlessly made her way back to the seated area at the front of the boat.

You went to resume your seat across from her, but Shiv grabbed your wrist and gently tugged you into the seat next to her. You watched with wide eyes as she set off on another can, a few droplets of beer dripping past her lips and running down her chin. Down to her breasts, which were sitting quite nicely in her bathing suit. You looked down at your can, praying the heat in your body wasn't visible to Shiv.

"You know, you're kind of my best friend, y/n." Shiv remarked. You hummed in appreciative agreement, still not able to look her in the eyes. You could tell she was looking at you, which made your blood run even hotter. Shiv gently nudged her shoulder against yours, forcing you to look at her. She had a look on her face, one you had only seen on her brother, Roman, when he was looking at their coworker Gerri. It was the softness in the eyes that comes from being vulnerable, something you knew Shiv wasn't used to being. Shiv continued, "I mean, I can't think of anyone else who would've done something nice like this for me. Maybe Tom, but..." She sighed then switched took another sip from her drink. "Why did you do this, anyways? What's the end game?"

You raised an eyebrow at her. "End game?"

Shiv scoffed, and your heart broke a little as you realized she still didn't completely trust you. What really hurt was that you were fine with it, because she had been betrayed by so many people before. "I mean, you want to take time off? Paid vacation? A raise? You know I already pay you a fuck ton more than anyone else would reasonably pay an assistant-"

You gently put your hand on her shoulder, frowning. "Shiv, no, it's not like that. You seemed stressed, that's all. I wanted to help."

Shiv set her can in the cupholder next to her and crossed her arms, studying you. "You're telling me you did this just... out of the kindness of your little 'ol heart?" When you nodded, she added quietly, "Aren't you a sweetheart?"

You shrugged. "I just know that when my family pisses me off, I like to do something fun and try forget about it. For your family... well, I thought booze would be the best remedy."

Shiv let out a giggle, a genuine giggle, which made your slightly booze-tainted self giggle as well. You nudged her shoulder and added jokingly, "I mean... if you want to give me a raise-"

"Oh, fuck you!" Shiv laughed, reaching over and flicking your nose. The gesture was so small and childish, but the feeling of her touch just barely against your skin lingered. You were sure you were going to burst into flames.

Shiv often asked you questions, mundane ones about the life of a "normal person", as she called you. The two of you continued to drink and talk, Shiv becoming more comfortable as the sunlight burned away. "So much for swimming," you thought, but you didn't mind. Spending time with Shiv was enough for you.

The sun was beginning to set, more time having passed than you had realized. You cleared your throat, wanting to be the reasonable one. "Well, we should probably sail back. We've gotta pack and get on the plane by 8 a.m., and I know how grumpy you get when you don't get enough sleep."

You stood to leave, but Shiv grabbed your wrist, tugging it gently. "No, please stay! I can sleep on the plane."

You shook yourself out of her grasp and Shiv pouted, making you giggle. You shook your head with a grin as you made your way over to the steering wheel, watching Shiv for a moment as she closed her eyes and leaned her head back, a small smile on her face. You turned the key to start the boat back up... but nothing. You frowned a little then tried again, but the boat only offered a weak sputter in return. "Uh... Shiv?"

She was still in a blissful state, soaking in the remaining sunrays. "Hmm?"

You were a little drunk, which made you panic even more. "I don't think the boat will start." You said quietly.

Shiv opened her eyes, her head lolling as she looked at you. "What was that?"

You tried to start the boat again, but the sputtering sound was even louder. Shit. "The, uh... the boat won't start."

Shiv sighed, then shakily got to her feet. She giggled at her own wobbliness, but still made her way over to you. She put her hand on your shoulder for stability, so close next to you that you could smell her expensive perfume and feel her boozy breath on your neck. She reached around you, fiddling with the wheel. "Oh my gosh, y/n, what did you do to the boat?" Shiv teased.

You turned your head and Shiv was right there. You held your breath, trying to get yourself together. You wanted to look away, but you couldn't tear yourself from her gaze. Her eyebrows furrowed a little but you couldn't decipher her expression. Her eyes flittered down to your lips, and you abandoned all your morals and gently pressed your lips to hers.

Your lips lingered against hers for a moment, but something in you snapped you back to reality, and you were the first to pull away.

"Shiv, I'm so-"

"Just-" Shiv held up a finger, a smirk on her lips. "Just kiss me again."

Shiv leaned in to kiss you, but you stopped her by gently pushing her shoulder back. "Shiv, we can't. You're married, and Tom-"

"Fuck Tom, I'll divorce him when we get back to land, whatever." Your eyes widened at her statement, but she shook her head. "I won't but... I don't feel anything for him. Nothing that's real, anyways. But you..." She sighed. Shiv looked down, a mischievous smirk forming on her face. "You're real, and what I feel is real. So just... can you kiss me, please?" She gently took your hands in hers, her thumb tracing over your finger. You shivered, which made her look you in the eyes again. She leaned in and softly pressed her lips to yours, and you couldn't resist. Shiv's fingers were instantly in your hair, holding you in place as your lips moved in sync. No-one had ever kissed you like this before, so passionately but not aggressively. There was feeling behind it, overwhelming you in the best way possible. The taste of her in your mouth was addicting, and you prayed it would linger after this whole affair was done. Your lungs were screaming for you to pull away for a breath, but Shiv removed her lips from yours and attached them to your neck, the hand in your hair tugging back slightly, exposing her ravenous mouth to your neck. Your hands shot behind you to grip the control panel, your knees buckling as Shiv suckled gently into your skin.

Shiv's lips left your skin with a small 'pop', her eyes studying you. Your chest was heaving, desperate to her feel her against you again. You felt pathetic, how badly you wanted more, but you wouldn't dare say it out loud.

Shiv spun the two of you around, landing you in the chair next to the steering wheel. Her hands were on the armrests, her lips diving into yours once again. The angle was a little awkward, but you figured Shiv would be the one in charge, so you were happy to let her do whatever she wanted with you. When Shiv's lips left yours again, you couldn't help the whine that came out, which she laughed at. Your cheeks burned as you felt embarrassed, but her hands moved to your thighs, which let you know she wasn't making fun of you. Shiv kept her eyes on yours as she slowly sunk to her knees, her hands moving up your thighs to the band of your bathing suit bottoms. You shameless lifted your legs slightly, her hands moving in sync to remove your bottoms. The sun had gone down, the air a little chilly, and you shivered again, goosebumps blossoming on your skin.

Shiv used her hands to let your legs be open to her, totally exposed. She bit her lip slightly before saying, "You know, consider this a thank you for the boat ride."

Before you could reply, her mouth was on you. She began at your thighs, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses against your soft skin. You squirmed and you could feel her lips smiling into your skin. She gave you the smallest of licks, her eyes flickering up to yours as you let out a whine at the contact. Your head dropped back in pleasure as she started to suckle on your clit, but you could feel her eyes on you. Shiv moaned against your clit, the vibrations like lightening up your spine. Shiv detached from your clit, and you looked down at her, slightly confused, but she straightened a little and held her hand up, her fingers tracing your lips. You weren't even thinking as you poked your tongue out against her fingers, taking them into your mouth. Shiv smirked and drove her fingers a little deeper, letting the wetness of your mouth soak her fingers. She hummed in contentment and pulled her fingers out, tilting her head up to kiss you on the lips before whispering, "So obedient, as usual."

You were a loss for words, but it didn't matter because her mouth was back on you in an instant, one of her fingers slowly entering you. You gasped and reached out to grab her hair on instinct, tugging slightly which made her moan loudly against you. You became lost in her, the sound of her moans, the feeling of her as she entered another finger into you, her fingers curling up in the most delicious way. Your legs begin to shake as you drowned in the feeling of her, calling to Shiv softly in between whines and moans. You could feel your release building, Shiv's hand speeding up as she watched you try not to unfold against her fingers. She didn't dare speak, but everything she wanted to say you could see in her hungry eyes. The thought of her stopping just to tease you briefly crossed you mind, but it was washed away by the feeling of your orgasm as you clenched down on her fingers. Her tongue lapped at you greedily as she tried to taste every drop of your release. You loudly moaned her name and gripped her hair, abandoning any shame you had left in your body.

Your chest was heaving, your body on fire, your hair sticky to your forehead as you opened your eyes and relaxed your body, looking down at Shiv. She was still kneeling below you, her fingertips making their way out of her mouth as she licked her bottom lip. She gave you a small smile before pressing a gently kiss your inner thigh. "That was pretty fucking amazing."

You blushed, bending forward to kiss her on the cheek. "Oh please, I didn't even do anything." You replied bashfully against her skin.

Shiv delicately shimmied your bathing suit bottoms back up your legs, helping you fix yourself up. "It doesn't matter, y/n, I really, really enjoyed doing that."

The two of you spent a moment in bliss, standing up and kissing each other softly on the lips. The moment was interrupted as you suddenly remembered the predicament with the boat. You pulled back from her lips and pressed your forehead against hers, sighing. "We need to call someone to come get us." You reminded her softly.

Shiv closed her eyes and hummed in agreeance, but her hands were still on your waist, her fingers tracing small patterns into your side. "Didn't you bring a little shirt or whatever to wear in case you got cold?"

"Yeah, I did-"

"Good, you'll need it." Shiv opened her eyes and leaned in impossibly closer to you, her lips so tempting as they just barely moved against yours as she said, "Make that phone call."

Her head dipped down as her lips attached themselves to your neck, and you fought the urge to sink back in the chair and let her have her way with you again, instead reaching behind her to find your phone. Your mind was only on her, but you managed to call Jess, Kendall's assistant, and ask if a boat could come pick you up. You were aware of how hard you were stuttering though the phone call, your tone a little high pitched as Shiv sucked a trail of hickies into your neck and chest. You hung up quickly, your legs opening on instinct as Shiv's fingers trailed to the apex of your thighs.

"Shiv..." you breathed out. "Jess said it'll only be a few minutes; we don't have time..."

Shiv groaned against your skin but pulled herself away, her hands instead going to straighten out your bathing suit top. "It's fine, really... we can continue this tomorrow. She gave your cheek a small pinch before adding, "Get ready to join the mile-high club, honey."

[serendipitous-imagines]

can i please request jjk gojo, nanami, choso, and geto getting the reader (any pronouns) valentines gifts? thank youuuu!!!!

aaa of course you can!!! i hope you enjoy!! i had so much fun writing these boys for the first time ever >:D

SATORU GOJO

✦ Gojo plans the most extravagant, week-long trip out of the country so that the both of you can just escape the craziness of the world and focus on one another. This includes booking first class tickets (or a private jet if he so felt like it) to a destination you have been talking about wanting to visit forever. ✦ Before you leave the airport, Gojo covers your eyes with a blindfold, with no end of teasing you and making comments like "you excited~?" and "have you guessed what i'm doin' yet~?". You have no clue what is going on, but you do not mind it at all, especially feeling Gojo's hands on your shoulders guiding you around. ✦ Once the blindfold is taken off, you see you are in front of a large vacation house with Gojo grinning largely at you. "Gojo, this is so--" "Perfect~? Yeah, it is~" Gojo extends his arms out, clearly proud of himself. "And that isn't all~" his sentence is punctuated with fireworks going off behind the vacation house. It is insanely extra, but with Gojo being the one behind it, it is sweet (if not a bit silly). ✦ After a 'relaxing' night with each other, Gojo wakes you up early with breakfast in bed and plenty of kisses. After breakfast and some distractions from Gojo, he takes you out into the city and gives you his card, saying "no limit on this card~ have fun~". He kind of follows you around carrying your bags, talking to you, and holding your hand. He loves being able to show you off to the public. ✦ "Hey, Y/N... I'm glad you came out here with me. I haven't felt this happy and free in years. I love you so much, you are the most important person in my life. Thank you for being my Valentines this year."

NANAMI KENTO

✦ Ideally, Nanami is the type of man to take you out to have an experience as a gift, but with the demands of work, sometimes he has very little time to plan something as extravagant as he wants to give you. You know some Valentine's dates with Nanami end up being the two of you polishing off a bottle of wine or two before retreating to the bedroom together. ✦ This Valentine's was different, Nanami was able to call in a rare favor to get the day off to surprise you with something completely different than what the both of you would normally do on the holiday. Nanami does not tell you about the good news, however, he wants to be the one to surprise you this time. ✦ When you get back home from work and picking up the Valentine's Day drink of choice you and Nanami had decided on this year, Chardonnay, you are a little surprised to see that your boyfriend is home before you are. "Nanami? You're home early!" Walking into the house, you are greeted by a smiling Nanami with a tux on holding your fancy dress clothes up to you. Getting past the initial surprise, you get all dolled up for your boyfriend in record time and the two of you leave the house quickly after. ✦ Your mouth is agape when you arrive at the town's restaurant, knowing exactly how hard it is to get a reservation on a usual night, and you could not imagine it was an easy feat to get reservations for Valentine's night dinner. Nanami guides you inside with his hand tightly holding yours, the two of you led to a table already set up with silver plates. Nanami ensures to pull your chair out for you to sit down in. ✦ Lifting up the silver tin in atop of your placemat, a gasp escapes you and your hands cover your mouth seeing the brilliant diamond ring sitting right in the center of the plate. Immediately, you turn to look at Nanami, who is on one knee beside you with a gentle smile on his face. "Y/N, will you make me the luckiest man alive and marry me?"

CHOSO KAMO

✦ Choso prefers a more intimate and small Valentine's celebration at home rather than going out. Even though he prefers to stay in and not face the Valentine's Date Dinner Rush, he does not hold back when he is decorating the house when you are out and about during the day. ✦ Choso worships the very ground that you walk on and the moment that you walk through the front door, there is a trail of rose petals leading to the bedroom, the whole house is completely cleaned and smells like your favorite scent, and an intimate red lighting is casted all throughout the house. ✦ When you get into the bedroom, Choso is standing by the bed with a little wrapped gift in his hands and is giving you a pretty smile that encompasses all of his love for you (accompanied by a small blush on his cheeks). ✦ When you unwrap your gift, you find a dark red velvet jewelry box. Upon opening the box, you are greeted by an incredibly heartfelt letter from Choso detailing his love for you. ✦ You also find a necklace in the box with a vial of a strange red liquid in it. When you look up at Choso to question him about what it is, you only feel his lips slamming into yours hungrily and the cool metal of the necklace being clasped around your neck.

SUGURU GETO

✦ When Geto asked you out of the blue if you had any plans on Valentine's Day, you answered that you had none immediately, assuming he wanted the company on the holiday. Honestly, you needed the company as well, Valentine's Day always reminded you how painfully single you were seeing all of the lovey-dovey activities and decorations around. ✦ Arriving at Geto's place, you were dressed in your casual clothes, sweatpants and a stained hoodie, and a grin on your face as you proudly held the two boxes of pizza out when the door swung open. "Dressed in your finest attire, I see," Geto teasingly commented to you in that all-too-familiar monotone voice of his as he stepped out of the doorway so that you could come inside. ✦ The two of you were sat beside one another on the couch with a movie playing on the tv. It was a horror movie because "what is less romantic than a horror movie" was Geto's reasoning despite knowing your fear of scary movies. Each jumpscare sent you nearly flying off of the couch and closer to the comfort of warmth beside you. ✦ It was only about half-way through the movie did Geto's arm slide behind you and wrap around the lower half of your back. Finally able to pull your eyes from the screen, you finally noticed that Geto was staring at you. Had he been staring at you the entire time? Your cheeks flushed as a nervous smile spread across your face, "Yeah?" you asked. ✦ "Do you want to be my Valentines?" was all Geto asked before he closed the space between the both of you, pulling you closer to him with his firm grip on your hips. Your hungry kiss in response to his was enough of a confirmation to Geto that you did in fact want to be his Valentines.

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