#*im a cherry man!* (ic)

[abyssaldyke]

Breaking: lesbian novelist found facedown in the Charles after writing Boston mafioso as "kinda faggy"

[nymphoniah]

Hiiii! May i request training/working out/ sparring (idk😭) with logan and it ends up with us dry humping or something pretty please will all the cherries :)

indulgent desires | logan howlett

pairing: boyfriend!logan x afab!reader

AN: omg your mind... i know for a fact that logan is an absolute menace when it comes to working out. like have you seen his arms? i need to be squished to death by his biceps. they're just so!!! omg!!! you know that man loves hitting his arms.

written with xmen/x2 logan in mind, but honestly can be applied to any other ver. of him! (for once i'm not writing with old man!logan in mind? am i really me?)

content/tags: minors DNI (18+ only), dry humping, pet names (babygirl, princess, etc.), porn with a little bit of plot, cum tasting/eating/facial, hair pulling, teasing

logan practically spends every day at the gym. he always prided himself on his physique, not just for self-fulfilling reasons, but for the mere fact that he knows that his body riles you up.

he can tell when you would "sneak" glances at him, especially when he gets a pump right after his workouts. the way his muscles swelled after working out made you lust for him harder.

you could tell he hit his arms today; his biceps were more defined than usual, with your eyes tracing a thick vein that flows down his forearm. "you like what you see, princess?" he teases, flexing his arm as you continue to stare.

you blink hard and shake your head embarrassingly fast. "whatever, logan!" you shout, continuing whatever workout you were doing, losing track of how many reps you did.

you would tag along with him every so often, but only because he would take hours at a time at the gym. sure, you liked going to the gym, you had to stay fit somehow, but you lacked the stamina logan had; the frequency and duration of his gym sessions were unbearable for a poor little thing like you.

and logan acknowledged this, as he would often end his sessions a bit shorter so the two of you could go home sooner. you felt like a bother, and the last thing you wanted to do was interfere with his workouts.

"fuuuuck, im tired," you exhale, leaning forward, hands gripping at your knees as you try to catch your breath. pushing through your last set of bulgarian split squats had you absolutely winded. logan placed his firm hand on the small of your back, gently rubbing circles against your skin.

"let's go home, bub" he lulled, passing you his water bottle to drink from. nodding at him, you take a long swig, and the ice cold water rejuvenates your body. "let's..." you eagerly reply.

you couldn't bare being separated from him, lounging away at home any longer, so one day, you took matters into your own hands.

eventually you had the idea to buy at-home gym equipment; it was pricy to say the least, but it didn't matter to you, for as long as logan was home.

from the comfort of your own apartment, you had the view of logan all to yourself. whenever he worked out, he wore his plain white wife beater along with a random rugged pair of gym shorts he rotated through.

you'd wake up to his grunts early in the morning, getting up at first light to use the machines splayed out in your living room. the domesticity of it all made it so the early mornings never bothered you, as well as the occasional tsss or oomph he'd let out as he finished a rep.

and just like before, you'd join him. you had bought a yoga mat to do your stretches before your workout. even got one for logan, but he keenly insists on using yours.

this morning you had spot him on seated on the mat, legs stretched out. he splayed his torso out between his thighs, letting out a grunt as he felt his muscles pull as he reached forward.

a yawn leaves his mouth as he returns to an upright position. he glances over to his right to spot you sitting at the dining table, sipping from your mug, eyes focused on him.

when finished with his usual routine, he follows up with a couple of stretches afterwards to cooldown. his arms were thicker, more defined than usual. arms, you thought to yourself. he hit his arms, again.

“morning, sweetheart,” he chirps as a lazy grin slowly wipes across his face. he reaches his hand out, signaling for you to come over.

and so you do, sitting alongside him on the mat, slotting yourself between his legs. you rest your hands on his thick shoulders, tugging at the straps of his tank top.

he leans in, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead. “stretch with me, darlin,” he hums against your temple.

“i’d rather watch you,” you reply, playfully pushing him away. you’re about to return to your spot at the dining table before he snakes his arms around your waist, holding you in place.

“no, no, we gotta get you movin’, doll.” and oh how logan has a way of convincing you. just a simple pet name, and he’s got you wrapped around his finger.

he taps your hips, motioning for you to turn around, and you oblige. with a swift movement, your back is now pressed against his chest, your legs encaged by his own.

you could already feel that his dick was hard, which wasn’t too much of a surprise. logan had morning wood pretty frequently, and would often work out to relieve it, as he felt guilty if he were to wake you up so early in the morning.

but this time, it was different. watching you prance around the kitchen in those shorts that barely cover your ass, wearing a skin tight camisole that put your hardened nipples on display. how could he not get hard—or rather, not keep his hard-on for a pretty little thing like you?

logan rests his head on your shoulder, leaning close to your ear. “c’mon, get started already.” he whispers, warm breath tickling the shell of your ear.

and so you mimic the stretch he was doing earlier. you lean forwards, making your ass push into his crotch. the pads of his rough fingertips remain at your waist, gripping at your skin to bring you closer. you continue to lean forwards, and your back is now parallel with your legs on the mat.

his hands creep their way to the small of your back. “there you go, doll. just like that,” he lulls, tracing delicate circles where your back arches. logan shifts in place, now kneeling behind you as you remain spread out for him on the floor.

you attempt to rise from your position to sit upright, but a firm hand is planted on your back, keeping you in place. "y'look so pretty for me like this," logan teases, his calloused palm now slipping underneath your tank top.

his hands run up to caress your shoulder blades, pushing the straps of your tank top down swiftly. your tits were now exposed to the crisp, cool air, your nubs now even harder than before.

“logan…” you whine as his left hand keeps you in place, while the other roams to paw at your tits. you continue to moan out his name while he works at you, paying sweet attention to the way your breath hitches as he gently tugs at your swollen nubs.

“couldn’t help it darlin’,” he lulls, “how can i ignore a pretty little thing like you?” his hands move their way from your breasts to your hips. tugging at your legs, he manhandles you so you’re now prone on the yoga mat.

logan is still seated beside you, calloused hand now working at the globes of your ass, jiggling one your cheeks in the thick palm of his hands. “you got me so fuckin’ hard, baby…” he hisses, his free hand palming his erection through his shorts.

he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to the flesh of your ass, admiring how pretty you look spread for him. his face lingers for a second as he catches a whiff of your arousal pooling in your cunt.

“can smell how bad you need me, doll.” logan utters under his breath. “don’t worry, i’m gonna fill you right up…” you lazily turn your head around to catch a glimpse of the smirk forming on his face, and you flash him a coquettish smile of your own.

“ass up, princess,” he commands, pushing on the small of your back. and you obey, arching your back so that your ass is presented to him, your lacy panties peeking through your shorts.

“fuck.” he coos, molding your ass in the palm of his hand. logan is tempted to pop his claws out to rip the fabric, but the last time he did, you complained about him ruining your favorite pair of sleep shorts, so he refrains from doing so.

so he decides on something else. pushing his shorts down, logan remains in his boxers, his oh-so needy cock forming a tent in the tight fabric.

you feel him shifting around you, seating himself so he’s on his knees, his cock parallel to your ass. you try to push back to feel any friction against your needy cunt, but he keeps a firm grip on your hips, keeping you still.

“please, need you so bad,” you whine, attempting to wiggle your way out of his grip, but knowing him, knowing his strength, it’s useless to even try.

“you’re gonna have to wait for it, sweetheart,” he says cockily, pressing his pelvis against your clothed cunt, and the both of you hiss out in pain.

logan began to rut his cock against you at a steady pace, angling his hips to that the tip of his cock just about grazed over your clit.

“stop teasin’,” you purr, arching your back to try and get any more friction, but it’s no use. logan reaches over and presses your head into the yoga mat, your cheek squished against the foam.

“you get what i give you, princess.” he grunts, pushing your head further into the mat as his hips move faster, pressing harder into your ass. “gonna use you first, then i’ll stuff you with my cock.”

his hips sputter as he feels the way you bounce your ass against him, your bodies moving in sync, his thrusts matching the way you rut back into him. “fuck, you got me worked up doll, prancing around the house like that…”

you couldn’t respond to his words, only grunt in response. the pressure building in your core was too much, making your mind hazy. all you managed to let out was a little mmh.

“walkin’ around with your tits on display, actin’ all innocent,” he drones on, continuing to pound his hips against yours. he fists a section of your hair, tugging harshly so your face now meets his.

“the things you do to me, doll…” logan mutters, leaning over to give you a hungry kiss. your entangled your tongues sloppily, moaning into each others mouths.

he pulls away from the kiss hastily, and a thin strand of your saliva mixed with his pools from your bottom lip. you look fucked out already, and he’s only been dry humping you.

“dirty little thing,” logan teases, pressing a finger against your clothed cunt as he continues his thrusts. you feel yourself getting close, your panties were drenched with your own arousal.

the way your ass rippled with every thrust of his hips, combined with how wet you were getting from this sent logan into a spiral.

his movements became more erratic, his strained dick begging to be released from the confines of his boxers. he began to rub tight circles on your clit, pushing you further to your limit.

“gonna come soon, baby,” he grunts out, and you moan in response. “where do you want me, darlin’?”

spit dribbles out of your mouth as he continues his relentless attack on your ass, his hips pistoning as fast as he could manage. “o-on my face…” you barely manage to whimper out

and so his thrusts pause, and he manhandles you, now flipping you onto your back. he hastily pushes his boxers down, his cock springing back in protest against his stomach.

your mouth waters at the sight of his thick cock, his hands pumping him at a rapid pace, precum leaking all over his abs.

he hovers himself over your face, his knees caging your head. as he angled his cock at your mouth, he continued fisting himself vigorously. “gonna take my cum like a good girl?” he asks, raising his eyebrow. you nod your head yes, but this isn’t enough for logan.

“words, princess.” he quips, feeling himself close to his release.

“‘m gonna take it like a good girl, i promise lo” you whine, locking your eyes with his, your pupils blown with lust.

“‘atta girl…”

and after a couple more pumps of his dick, thick ropes of his cum coat your face. he’s spurting out more than you imagined—he was really fucking pent up. who would’ve thought that a sweet little thing like you had that much of an effect on him?

after he milked himself of all of his cum, he rolls over to your side. he glances over at you and wipes the mess off near your eyes. you chuckle a bit, licking off the cum that got on your lips.

you lean over and pull logan into a short kiss, allowing him to taste himself on your lips. “fuckin’ hell,” he whispers, his hot breath tickling your nose. he sits up, looking around the kitchen for a spare towel to clean you up.

“soo… does this count as our warm up for today?” you ask cheekily, propping yourself up on your elbow as you watch him pace around the kitchen.

“shut up, kid…” logan replies, groaning at your attempt joke.

[icarusredwings]

What things smell like according to Logan Howlett/ The Wolverine. A series of smell based headcanons. Do with these whatever you want :)

People:

Ororo: burnt marshmellows, rain, chunky chocolate chip cookies, protien shakes, spansih rice, chillies, and cocoa butter. She always smells great.

Scott: cucumber shampoo, the remaints of a bonfire the next day, fresh dry cleaning, axe shower gel, lavender sheets

Jean: caramel latte, lavender sheets, vanilla spiced chai, books, mint ice cream, fruit smoothies, stinky hair product, lemon poppy seed muffins, sassafras

Hank: Books, sanatizer, various chemicals, a very specifc fur dander, kinda musky but in a 'im covered in fur and sweaty' kind of way.

Rouge: "Dolly Parton", brick and concrete dust, cherry blossoms body spray, freshly engraved wood, strawberries and milk conditioner, spicy gaucamole and freshly sizzled sausages.

Gambit: tv static, a fresh deck of cards at the casino, spicy jumbo, gin, lime jello, hair gel, "suprisingly good actually"

Kurt: brimstone, smoke from franckinsense, myrrh, a less smelling dander then hank, Holy chrism oil (olive oil and Balsam made by catholic priests), metal, and blue raspberry. Fur/ beard pomade sometimes for special ocassions.

Morph: even when changed he can smell is sandlewood shampoo, he smells like how "Jack Outta smell", latex, pine and cedar, clear nail polish, "that ugly quilt that your grandma kept on the back of her couch that was the warmest, softest thing you've ever slept with."

Charles: Old man fart, metal, chalk, shoe polish, nutmeg, wool, "a trusting hug", books, mahogany, expensive champagne.

Laura: "teen spirit", a shitty cheap "girl power" deodorant that doesn't do well hiding the sweat, apples and peaches, kinda woodsy.

Wade: Cancer, gun smoke, citrus dish soap, blood, oranges, taco sauce, infected skin once in awhile, red dye 40, slight over cooked and crispy apple pie, sugary cereal

Puppins: wet dog, dog dander, oatmeal senstive skin puppy shampoo, chicken, "the dirtest trash she can find to roll in on her walk"

Althea: Old lady, way too strong perfumes, butter biscuits, tea, peppermint candies, more cocaine, "baby powder", lanvender linens, cotton and daisy's Landry detergent.

Feelings/emotions:

Big/serious lies: smell like Gasoline and salty sand near the sea.

Small fibs/playful/ teasing lies: smell like Anise

Lies with decent intentions/are bent truths: smell like honey

Those two are easily mixed up.

Innocent (the person truly believes it. Ex. A child saying dinos are real) truth: smells like thick vanilla creamer.

Filling, whole truths (the person knows for a fact its a truth) smells: like fresh baked rolls/buns

Cancer smells vary like: urine, nail polish remover, some people have a pungent semi sweet smell like rotting fruit, and tar is another smell, depending on which part of the body. If already in late stages, one can smell like cadavers. Even spicy almost.

Pregnant people vary in scent but he can smell the rise of different hormones: Some hormones sweeter then other. If you asked him he would say cinnamon or dying roses. If you're later in your term the scents are more soft like lotion or custard. Lemon ussually.

Serotonin; cheese, lemon cakes, fruity, a bit light, and flakey like a pastry. Marshmellow fluff.

Dopamine; sweet fresh coffee, doritos(?), cocaine. Don't ask why he knows what cocaine smells like. He was alive during coke cocaine.

Endorphins; Sweaty Sex, mint, dark chocolate, violets, chemicals, varies by persons pheromones

Oxytocin; "playful cherries", freshly washed cotton pillows, the warmth of a bath, skin on skin hugs, strawberries

Joy/relaxation/relief: Jasmine, vanilla sugar cookies, fresh soup.

Anger/disapproval/hurt: smoke, the back end of a cigarette, spicy curry, iron, blood, "spoiled raw chicken left out too long"

Fear/excitment/anxiousness: Adrenaline smells like oil, paint, salty pretzels almost.

Tears: Oceans, lillies, fresh water lakes

[yonseibananamilk]

“𝒊𝒎𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒎𝒆."

synopsis 𓂃𓈒𓍼ོ living with fyodor was the same as living without him. however, the night of his return reminds you, embarrassingly so, just how close the two of you are. literally. (~4k wc)

a/n 𓇢𓆸 i think i may or may not be starting to hate my writing BUT i really stretched beyond what im used to in certain parts of this and i am quite proud of myself for that ^^

content 𓍼ོ𓂃𓈒 canon compliant, suggestive themes(especially around the end), fyodor is very cold temperature-wise, soft!fyodor(hes soft in his own way), references to my work song fic ! + connected directly to it will come back as it is a part 2 ^^

ᡣ𐭩 special special જ⁀➴ this fic is in collaboration with @musamora ‘s new talk!fic ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و please try to check hers out too if you can — shes a brilliant writer and a lovely person overall <3

Books upon books knitted themselves compact inside the towering shelves that pressed into the walls of what you assumed was Fyodor’s home. He had never called it his home, in fact, you explicitly remember when he did bring you here —

“Welcome to this humble abode. Feel free to touch and grab whatever you desire. Everything here belongs to you, дорогая.”

— Ever since that blind date (gone wrong(but then right in the end)), the Russian had let you stay for as long as you liked. One night led to two, which led into you bringing over a few things for just a few more nights.

Which led to you staying with Fyodor for nearly a month now.

You shook your head at the thought. If anything, he was the visitor. The man was hardly ever home, therefore you weren’t even living together. And you were, like anyone else with experience in a leaky apartment, eager to accept a place as generous as this.

The house held two stories; the first floor with the living room, foyer, and utilities, and the second floor with the bathroom and bedroom. Not to mention there was even an accessible attic-study.

In the beginning, he had stayed the night with you on the couch while you remained upstairs. But it had been weeks since then. Your Russian companion, much to your dismayed crocodile tears, was now predominantly busy with his ‘mission’. You couldn’t argue with that.

Though, on one of the times when Fyodor did stay longer than just a few hours…

“Please? I don’t mind, I swear! Besides, we’re both adults, not some teenagers that’ll go off at the first brush of skin. You don’t have to sleep on the couch..!”

You didn’t want to admit that you had actually stained the sofa downstairs on the first day of being here — even if Fyodor knew about it already, with all his observance — and it also felt… wrong to have him sleep on the couch. Cold. In the dark. And very, very, very lonely.

With a desperate and dramatic gesture of your arms, you tried to make the bed as dreamy as possible to his cherry wine eyes. “See? So comfy!”

To prove your point even further, you jumped on yourself with a muffled noise in the comforter.

“How amusing.”

Your point was most certainly not taken.

Therefore, you began to deflate into the sheets. Even more muffled now, and perhaps even softer than before, you mumbled out — “Is ‘modesty’ really the only reason why you won’t share anything with me?”

Everything in the room stilled. As if gauging the weight behind your words. Then, faintly, a gust of a sigh fell into the golden air of your nearby nightlamp. The candle flame was tickled into a dance thanks to the Russian, twisting and spinning hypnotically.

So hypnotically that you failed to catch the shift in the bed beside your head.

Not until a chilled hand fell atop your head. Bony fingers of ice itself urged your face up and away from the fire. Your attention was rewarded with a smooth, humming smile.

“There is more, дорогая.” He admitted. “But those reasons have nothing to do with you. After all, you are the sole reason why I would like to sleep here.”

Briefly, so much so where you barely even caught it this time — a thumb brushed over your lips. Cherry wine eyes batted down at you, reflecting the flame behind your burning face. Like the sun was the center of his very being.

“Then why don’t you?”

As his thumb curled into the corner of your lips, the rest of his hand glided over your skin. Two fingers read the curves of your jawline. Its adjacent pair followed down to the side of your neck.

He could grab your entire head with ease.

Fluttering ties in your stomach unraveled and twisted again in an endless heap of knots. Why wasn’t he saying anything? What was he thinking of? Why is he getting closer?

A chilled breath brought respite to your burning cheeks. But only for a moment.

Why is he moving away?

“Be wary of the fatigue that will eat you, if you do not sleep soon, дорогая.”

Pale feet revisited the cold, yet still warmer than him, floors. Wood welcomed him with a tired creak, following the man’s every step until he reached the doorway. By then, you had turned off your back to finally face him yourself.

“But I’m not tired.” Horribly, a yawn tore through your last syllable. The heaviness of your eyelids was never apparent until now.

Another amused hum brought you back to the Russian before you, hand on the knob as he smirked down at you. Slowly, the sharp edges of his little grin faded into something softer, fuzzier.

A smile, he had gifted you.

“If you are not tired…” Your heart skipped a beat, anticipating every little thing for his next suggestion. As if crying out — “What? Yes? What is it?”

“Then remember this: there is danger in giving into one’s desires, дорогая.” Icy red eyes rove over your laden figure with an unreadable spark. He always looked at you so curiously.

“I would be wise to not fall victim to such dangers. As would you.”

The closing door halted itself instantly when you let out the smallest of huffs.

“My offer still stands…” With a dragging breath of protest, you fell underneath the blankets.

Black swirls encapsulated your mind as you managed to spin his words effortlessly; “Remember this: there is reward for passing through danger.”

…

Unknowingly shooting through the Russian’s morale — you fell asleep with the same singular weight of your own on the bed. However, the door was still ajar in the morning upon your awakening.

But that moment was weeks ago. The memory of it proven by the clear frown on your lips — twitching up and down every now and then based on whatever the book you read said.

You wouldn’t spend your time thinking about someone who wouldn’t even give you so much as a clear answer to ‘How was your day?’

A creak of wood whipped your head around in urgence. Only for nothing to be there.

Nothing but a pang of disappoint. All at the absence of a certain Russian.

Well. Maybe you would spend a bit of your time.

With a ruffled sigh you fell back against the chair, pages still in hand as the grandfather clock behind you whisked the day away. These moments of solitude had become a daily part of your life — ever since popping out of Fyodor’s floorboards like a daisy in the snow.

But they might as well have been your floorboards too.

The creak of wood glided past your ears. Followed by the light shuffle of a coat being draped over the rack nearby. Then the ghosts of footsteps slowly but surely making their way toward the living room.

“Hm?”

Much to his amusement, there you sat. Old book in hand atop the gentle rise and fall of your chest. In a peaceful slumber too.

“How adorable.” The R rolled after his deep chuckle, growing slightly in volume as he drew closer to your laden frame. “Falling asleep to folktales, are we? Hm, дорогая?”

Frostbite ghosted over your cheek. A chill fell over your fingertips — the lingering absence of your now-taken book. Burgundy eyes flitted over the title with a deep hum.

Surprisingly enough, you had managed to find one of the few English books that hid in his shelves. The vast majority were Russian(as he wasn’t the best with learning new languages).

“Orpheus and Eurydice?” His tongue read. “Now what on Earth compelled you to read such a tale..?”

Firewood slid off one another as it ate away at itself in incessant hunger. A desire for something warmer than what it already had. A rod poked it stable in no time.

“Perhaps my дорогая is more romantic than she lets on. It makes me wonder…”

The shadows around him chuckled in tandem before, again, rippling as the fireplace was muted once more.

‘What a foolish thought.’ His brain reprimanded.

Yet his heart leapt not once, but twice — as you began to slowly stir awake. With orange light painted across the dips of your babbling lips in a silent dance with dark.

“Uah… who’s there..?”

Raven locks fell to the side as he tilted towards you slowly. Akin to an animal watching something unusual. Unexplainable. Unimaginable. A thick silence filled the air as Fyodor lagged to translate your words — no thanks to the strange foreign tingling south of his head — all by the sight of you.

‘How vulnerable.’ He mused. ‘How adorable.’

Despite knowing full well what was coming out his lips — despite knowing just what it could risk for him —

“Федя is here.”

He had willingly revived something. Something that had lied dormant for dozens of hundreds of years. All for you. You and your daftly half-conscious state. He hadn’t been called such a simple name since childhood.

And since his family was alive.

Despite his already-dissipating regret, icy tips glided reverently over the crown of your head. The locks of it threaded like yarn. Each part sifted through like flour. The back of it all was cupped tightly — encouraging your limp head to face him.

“Fe… diya…?”

Oh how adorable you were. So sleepy you couldn’t even pronounce a simple nickname. A diminutive. An endearment.

Nor could you realize how special you were right now. Though, that was the norm at this point.

“Yes. Can you indulge Fedya for a moment, дорогая?” The Russian cooed with a smile both condescendingly familiar, and unrecognizably tender.

Your whined nod was enough to coax him closer. Arms atop the sides of the chair. Frosted breath wafting just shy of your pulse.

“Can you tell Fedya what you were thinking of? Hm?”

Lithe fingers haunted the cover of your little folktale with echoed taps. His cherry wine gaze hooked onto the half-lidded glaze in your eyes.

“Tell him what you were thinking of when reading such a story?”

As slurred syllables pooled from your tongue, Fyodor locked himself onto every quiver, bite, and sound. Each was greedily soaked into the prodigy’s mind — held in higher regard than any mazed tactic.

Although just as half-lidded as yours, his eyes were far more awake than they had been during his accursed mission earlier.

After all, if Fyodor knew such a sweet sight waited for him here — he would’ve destroyed everything in his path to get back as soon as possible.

Frosted breath ghosted over the angle of your jaw, waiting patiently for something more.

“I… I thought that Eurydice was very lucky to have been loved so dearly... Regardless of what happened at the end.”

Black brows rose at you. “Lucky?”

“Yes. I’m a bit envious — being loved so dearly is…” A shake of the head pauses your sleepy train of thought. With a deep breath, your head reclined further into the plush of your seat before correcting yourself.

“Being loved is a very lucky thing indeed.”

Well weren’t you the lucky one?

The gentle squeaks of the couch were thankfully muffled by your weight, settling further and further into its cotton fabric. Your warmth soaked into it well. Though, much of that warmth was the fire’s — which only seemed to be growing.

Just along the edges of your peripheral, a certain smiling Russian was also present — leaned over your shoulder closely. Close enough for the scent of black tea to flood your nostrils yet again.

“Could you imagine it?”

A chill ran over the hairs on the nape of your neck. Fyodor’s breath was cold. His lips too.

“Imagine being loved…?” Your voice was far softer than expected. “I… suppose it would be nice. Very nice, in fact. I’d like to be cared about…”

Shifting your eyes, the golden text of the book was now being circled by Fyodor’s idle fingers. Lithe enough to perfectly recreate the intricate cursive. And cold enough to make you shudder at the mere sight.

Nonetheless — the image of such hands snug around you was as warm as the shared fireplace.

“Wouldn’t everyone?” He cooed. Slender fingertips rhythmically tapped atop the book cover.

“Being loved…” Cherry wine eyes reflected the orange fire beside you. “Or wanted…”

You swallowed a lump in your throat that certainly wasn’t there before.

“Is a very human desire.”

Another swallow. Glued to the fiddling hands in your lap, your heart leaped with you upon asking;

“Do you desire it as well?”

Briefly did his eyes widen.

It was borderline impossible to catch Fyodor off-guard. But, as luck would have it, you succeeded at it like any other mundane task. You always did.

It’d be terrifying if not so attractive.

“I suppose…” Once unoccupied fingers found their way atop your shoulder. Chills ran through your arm. As well as an unwelcome spark through your entire body. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

A flicker of your shared fireplace caught your eye. Avoiding the piercing gaze of Fyodor Dostoevsky as he, much to your confusion, stared into your very essence. It was as if he was analyzing every curve and groove before completely committing it to memory.

That sly, condescending chuckle reeled you home to him. All semblance of earlier surprise had drained from his eyes. “What a curious question, дорогая. Were you picturing it in your mind?”

Blackberry strands fell against the white fabric of his shirt, flowing in tandem with the inching of his face.

“Thinking… pondering… wondering…”

Orange light danced within the seeds of his eyes.

“Imagining what it’d be like to be loved by me?”

You didn’t know whether to fuse with the couch or disappear completely.

Whatever happened to the fire danced over your already-burning cheeks — radiating against the chill of Fyodor’s face as he bordered closer and closer.

“Can you imagine it?”

Close enough to count each eyelash.

Close enough to taste the scent of black tea and iron on your tongue.

Close enough to feel the subtle heat of his cheeks.

“Imagine being loved by me?”

Your lower lip began to tremble. Sweat sprinkled from your shaky palms. That same spark shocked you from head to toe yet again.

Everything felt heavy. Heavy and warm.

And your nose itched. Itched and twitched. You couldn’t help but sniff — which only amplified the hot water in your eyes — already glittering in your lashes. The unsaid border between the two of you dwindled like a candle in the wind.

All you knew was that you were sweaty, shaky, and far too warm to be considered normal.

A snort caught itself in his throat. While perfectly timed with just how stiff you were getting, your little sniffle was not out of embarrassment. Simply an incoming sneeze that he would gladly bless you for in: 3, 2—

“Achoo!”

…

He did not want to finish that countdown.

“Woah…! I got my boogers on your face! Hah!”

“That you did.” The Russian begrudgingly muttered, closed eyes subtly twitching under the weight of your giggles and dabbing sleeve. “Bless you.”

Despite all your unceremonious, uncouth, undisciplined whatnots — the sheepish smile you flashed to him was hardly ignored. “Thank you… Did it get in your eye?”

“Fortunately not.”

“Aww. Better luck next time then.”

The caught snort from before clawed its way out of Fyodor and into a throaty, hearty, genuine laugh.

No cocky chuckles. No sadistic grins. No sly hums.

Just a normal laugh. With golden fire reflecting off the sides of his face like framing sunrays. And a usually imperceptible ombre of deep magenta in his otherwise black hair — thanks to the generous amount of light the fireplace provided a few feet away.

Sure, it was akin to the cawing of crows at the crack of dawn — Fyodor most certainly hadn’t laughed like that in what seemed like centuries. But it was touching nonetheless.

Very much so.

“It’s rude to stare, дорогая.”

It was even harder to look away when he was smiling so warmly.

“I bet Orpheus wouldn’t think Eurydice was rude — even when her boogers got in his eye.”

An unfamiliar emptiness frosted over your shoulder when the Russian leaned away. “Perhaps, дорогая. Perhaps.”

You couldn’t recall a time when he was ever so warm.

“There are no more wool blankets.” The Russian patted through the wooden cabinets with a small hum. “Дорогая, you wouldn’t happen to know where they are, would you?”

Looking over his shoulder, a cherry wine gaze poured over your freshly showered & dressed body. You learned to always stay snug for the cold that managed to occasionally sneak its nightly way past the fireplace — crackling happily a hallway down.

You hummed back, offering the man a smile warm enough to rival it. “I do.”

“And whatever happened to them?” Knowing lips cooed. The answer fell sweeter when it was from your tongue than his mind.

“I put them in the attic because they scratched at my face,” Rubbing at your arms, a wave of apology washed over you. Maybe Fyodor preferred blankets that way? Scratchy and itchy. He was a strange man after all.

Even more strange now that he was finally content with sharing a bed. You don’t think you’d ever seen a man smile for so long. However eerie though, at the end of the night, it was… endearing.

Tonight, he had changed out of the usual wear for war(or whatever he did outside of the house) — a fluffy white robe wrapped snug around Fyodor. Tied together by the loose cotton belt.

“And so you have been sleeping in a single blanket? Instead of the multiple wool ones I had given you?” The urge to hang your head was woefully strong. You opted to shuffle your feet instead.

“Yes, Fyodor. I… I can give you the blanket for the night if that’s what you want?”

Briefly, his roving eyes met yours. With a small lilt of his voice, which was another strange way of expressing amusement for him, the Russian cooed; “And leave a woman to fend for herself against the cold?”

Another spark of warmth crackled under your skin. The sensation swam through your bones in a melting frenzy that burned your face once it reached it.

“T-then we can share…?”

Cherry eyes crinkled in delight.

“Wonderful idea, дорогая.”

As your knees slowly crawled up to meet your chest, the sway of his hair encapsulated you in a garden of imagination — with cherry wine eyes to drink and straight locks that rivaled shades of the ripest blackberries. Such sweet attributes for such a cold man.

Literally. He was colder than the air itself when sitting on your bed. The man could’ve drunken up all the warmth in the room, and still ask for more.

“You’re freezing!” You whined out, curling into a shuddering ball. “Maybe you should take that blanket, you might as well take the ones in the attic too.”

A frown quipped its brows at you. Yet, despite all his shown annoyance, there lacked a general sense of danger that once lived within.

Every glare was now punctuated with a cooing riddle of warning but quickly followed by a soft smile — imperceivable to all he knew. Excusing you.

“And I assume that means you are warmer? Hm?”

“Well, duh. I’ve been soaking in the fireplace all day waiting for you.”

“Oh?”

Under the gentle fire of your candlelit bedside, a meek coral bloomed across the slim cheeks of his face. His ears were red too — how long had he been that way?

“So, you were waiting for me?”

“Yes.” An exasperated breath left you feeling flustered and confused.

“Diligently?”

“And I was very lonely the whole time.”

A sense of deja vu sprung over you like a freshly pouring fountain.

Candlelight brewed against his face. Cherry wine eyes raked over your every inch. Pale skin, now painted with pink, smoothly approached closer and closer and closer —

Until the two of you are face to face once again. Illuminated only by generous candlelight and warmed by a singular blanket, except for Fyodor leeching off your heat.

“Дорогая, if I didn’t know better, I’d assume you thought we were married. With you waiting so, what was the word...?"

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

"Ah yes. Diligently for my arrival.”

Freezing fingertips grazed along the bridge of your jaw. Dancing over the skin like whistling air, then halting at the chin. Two fingers held it gently, softly, reverently even.

“Though, my words are not necessarily a complaint.”

Candlelight pooled over the side of his face, glistening in the corners of Fyodor’s eyes like water lanterns at nighttime. You could only hope he was staring at you because you looked just as beautiful.

Gulping, a strained noise tumbled from your lips —

“Oh? Whining now?” A chilling thumb ran over the shine of your bottom lip. He was closing in.

“I did not whine.” Your voice cracked. “I just—”

Words left you. Tumbling freely from your throat in an entanglement of broken syllables and whines.

And with each mishap, his grin only grew. Evident by the crinkled underside of his trailing gaze.

At long last, a semblance of defense clicked into mind — spilling out with almost-paralyzing heat inside. And yes. Your voice cracked a second time.

“You caught me off-guard!”

“I did?” He crooned. The weight of your blanket was peeled off — making way for Fyodor to finally join you. Which you would’ve been over the moon about — if your thoughts weren’t so scrambled. You only hoped his were, too.

Every restrained laugh. Every languid movement. Everything he did — you prayed that he felt even a semblance of the bashfulness you did. Maybe then, it wouldn’t feel so embarrassing.

“Oh, дорогая.” Frostbitten lips sighed. “You truly are adorable.”

Time melted into an infinity of simply you and Fyodor. With your brain dry of anything else to say, and his hopefully the same. With one last strained noise, you turned away to bury yourself into the cotton of your now-shared bed.

A candlelit silence bloomed over.

As the sheets’ soft heaviness cradled back over you, Fyodor included now, the man slid himself behind your burning face — peacefully watching the uncharacteristic heat fizz out of your little head.

Blackberry locks stretched over the expanse of the pillow like grape vines across a fence.

Amid all your muffled sounds, the cotton had begun to seep a sense of sleep into your skin, added on by Fyodor’s granted silence. With a sniffle, you reluctantly let go of his blundering words — slowly but surely relaxing into the candlelight bed. But not without an evident pout.

A haze of warmth enwrapped you. Cozy.

The edges of consciousness were held by none other than a familiar pair of cold hands. Which slithered their way around your waist — pulled you snugly against their owner’s body — allowing him to soak in the feast of your body heat.

Oddly enough, as the Russian slid himself closer, not an inch of his frigid temperature leaked into yours. Quite the opposite.

Your slumbering body thawed away at his cold one.

Save for one place that did not need any more warming. Like his cheeks, for example. Or elsewhere.

taglist ᯓᡣ𐭩 @aureatchi @soleelia + people that also wanted to be added but please know time is my greatest enemy

translations! (these are rough translations, and if there are any inaccuracies please let me know)

дорогая - ‘darling’ i just cant envision fedya saying ‘baby’. darling is the only accurate one.

thank you so much to @musamora for betareading again !!! she is quite literally the sweetest writer i know and this fic couldnt be possible without her ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂)⸝♡

also thanks to @/saradika-graphics for all the wonderful dividers! the images for the banner were either found on pinterest or edited by yours truly <3 thank you for reading !

© yonseibananamilk 2024 - please refrain from copying, plagiarizing and/or reposting my works on other platforms. reblogs, notes, and comments are very appreciated!

[i23kazu]

♡ YOU AND I'VE BECOME A SACRED KIND OF HOME

characters. xiao diluc kaeya childe wriothesley alhaitham x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff. an. sometimes, settling into loving each other just needs to happen. title is from HSMTMTS " love you forever "! | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

xiao

his love is... strange. it's sweet in his own way. when he starts loving you, you actually don't realise it. they're never big gestures that start waving heart flags in your face with a plane that spells a contrail – i love (y/n)! no, his love is subtle and his love is sweet. watch as his hands start to inch closer towards yours, until his whole hand is on top of yours. look up once more, glance at him sweetly, and look at how he's he's blushing turned away from you.

diluc

his love... oh, it's just filled with goodness. his world is so much more colourful, so much more filled with light – your light. kiss him gently on the forehead as he drifts off to sleep, and watch his face loosen, whatever tension from the day just melting away from a second of your touch. there's a familiar spark in his eyes, one that his brother recognises.

kaeya

his love... may be hard to understand, at first. after all, this is a man who had been loved so hard and so fiercely – until that one fateful day, where it was snatched from his grip. it is hard for him to trust and love with the same vigour that he used to. please be patient with him, because when the ice cracks, and his warmth shines below, it will all be worth it.

childe

his love is sweet, but soon turns.. sour? some days, when you're alone and wishing for his presence, it feels like someone had ripped off the rose-coloured glasses from you. the bed is a little colder and there's always a mug unwashed on the rack, and every thing seems to remind you of his lack of presence. don't worry too much, darling, because your chest will feel warm and whole again once you hear the doorknob click open.

wriothesley

his love is unfamiliar – unlike anyone's you've ever seen. it's shiny and hard but also pillowy and soft and it's a mishmash of sounds, tastes, textures, colours, patterns – it's confusing. wriothesley is confusing. but that doesn't mean that he wants it to be that way, though – loving someone everyday isn't a feeling, but rather a choice. it's a choice that you both make. when you fit like pieces of a puzzle together, that's when the moment of clarity comes through – that he loves you.

alhaitham

his love is hard. it's metallic and unpleasant at first, a hard clash of what you think love is, versus what he thinks love is. no, he's not unromantic – he just prefers to show his love to you in a more practical way, and sometimes that practical way doesn't get translated properly to your head-in-the-clouds self. getting annoyed when you pay for things starts to look like him wanting you to sit down and let him treat you – so, start looking at things from his perspective, and you'll soon see that there's more than meets the eye for this scholar.

taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki @adeptuscharm @diorlumx @vennnnn-diagram @ryuryuryuyurboat @yuminako @st0pthatsgay @aqualesha @sixtynintharchon @supernova25 @kunikuda-simp @starglitterz @rin-nyrasti-writes @mxyarylla @starchivves (send ask/comment to be added to taglist)

reblogs w/ tags & comments help me lots !!! if you liked this, consider dropping me a follow as well :-)

[m1sa-w1sa]

Hii! I dont remember if I asked this before but I saw the new post that says that you are about harbingers again so Imma put my request. Sorry if I requested this before, if I did, please just ignore it. Anyways, here is my request:may I pretty please with cherry on top get Arlecchino, Scaramouche and Childe with a darling that is on hunger strike? (Bacically refuses to eat unless freed)

Ty 4 reading my request!

(Okie dokie!! Sorry if this took a little long to get out, i was researching a bit on it)

EAT ALREADY!!! Fluff, a bit of ooc, crack

Arlecchino

•Shes slightly confused, why arent you eating anything? What is this for? She tries to get you to eat, but again you said no, so she doesnt push it on you •After a few days without eating then she is going to take action, ok buddy.. shes actually wondering what are you doing this for, be freed from WHAT who is doing this? •She would get you your favorite food, putting it in front of you, waiting for you to eat it, if not shes shoving it down your throat YOU AINT GONNA STARVE ON HER WATCH ‘ You have to eat, Im not leaving until you do ‘

Scaramouche

•At first he wouldnt care that much, leaving you be, but he is slightly worried if he doesnt show it •Like Arlecchino, he doesnt know WHY your doing this, what do you need to be freed from? A contract? Debt? Getting hunted down? •If you dont eat in a day or 2 he WILL sit you down and make you eat if you dont then hes going to MAKE you eat ‘Your still a stupid mortal, you need food, Im not going to lose you… ‘

Childe/Tartaglia

•This mf aint wasting ANY TIME you didnt eat breakfast? Hes nagging to you about it, and trying to drag you back into the kitchen, no lunch?! Following you around flicking your head, no dinner?? Hes scolding you about the IMPORTANCE of eating •This man will find any way to make you eat, tickling you until you cant breath, putting ice cubes on your back, ANYTHING he aint letting you go on with this for me than 2 or 3 days ‘ Cmon babe! You gotta eat! Im not taking no as a answer.. ‘ (FINNNIIISSSHHHEDDDDD! Im rlly happy to write for the harbingers again!!!)

[tinyhrry]

F1 Fic Recs

Charles Leclerc

a thousand words @pierregazly

all about gut health @uglyducklingofthe2000s

she was my hurricane

so American @landososcar

sparks fly @taasgirl

im having his baby! @foreveralbon

73 qs @leclerc-hs

baby fever @mickyschumacher

theories of relativity @pucksandpower

dirty boy @c0eu4

the walls @matchaverse

switched @leclercvsxgow

how u get the girl @monzabee

puppy dog eyes @its-avalon-08

every second @scuderiahoney

cute first impression @hemmingsleclerc

fun road trip

father who stepped up @astonmartinii

bday wishes

student life

love languages

coucou charlie @chrisevansonly

let me show u my man @loveclerc

blue @leclercstarrs

monaco official @lovemomhatepolice

proud @of-many-fandomss

did i do that @chlerc

Oscar Piastri

best he'll ever write @solaireverie

shampoo suds @pierregazly

smile kisses

shaking for u

hug from u

sargeant reader @vivwritesfics

translator

to be loved is to be seen @norrizzandpia

fingertips @uglyducklingofthe2000s

home is where the heart is

lover @taasgirl

hard racing

evil @matchaverse

step parent

ur my love language @serpenttines

superstar @ham1lton

lowkey @artoodeetootired

dress

stop to smell the flowers @fernandopiastri28

family dinner @multiversesweets

ice princess @leclercstarrs

Mr. and Mrs. @cutielando

the set up @rosyblooom

rookie season @leclercings

mismatched plates & fairy lights @its-avalon-08

wisdom teeth @lovelytsunoda

u don't know how to drive @claypgeons

tennis crush

speak for urself @sunrizef1

Lando Norris

a flawless muse @uglyducklingofthe2000s

enough is enough

autumn sunset

white nikes

rearrangements

more than js a wag

lip balm

handle ur drink

ur name is lando

wasting love pt2

burnt out

I'm an independent woman

the scientist @luv4georgie

not so perfect strangers @rosyblooom

hit me with ur best shot

from my pov @landosjpg

stop growing up @norrisleclercf1

privacy @lillysbigwilly

childhood

i know aristotle @soamericn

the set up @cherry-leclerc

sick @annie115

wonderland @landososcar

1.30am @arieslost

penguin

miami

reckless @55szn

my poor baby @youaresimplylovely

just friends @tinycoffeeroom

bad ideas right? @keerysfreckles

thirsty boy @sharlsworld

priv not secret

lando's ballerina @chrisevansonly

girly girl @mirohlayo

olive @norrizzandpia

conv w love @mydearesthrry

crush @afterglowsainz

the other woman @theyluvkarolina

F1 Grid

fashion n' cars @youaresimplylovely

so this is my husband @uglyducklingofthe2000s

wrong number @lovemomhatepolice

sick days @moviecritc

[cherryredstars]

omg can i request a toji (or sukuna ) x female reader

can it be baking with both of them. pls i need them like play fighting with the whip cream i think it would be so cute 🥰 Also HOW everything cherry

-🐈

Pairings: Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader, Ryomen Sukuna x fem!reader

Warnings: Fluff, Cursing

A/N: First JJK fic, pose for the picture!

Unedited

Toji Fushiguro

You hope he contracts samonella.

You scowl at Toji as he dips his finger into the cake batter again, quickly sucking the finger into his mouth before the mixture could drip back into the bowl. Despite his promises to help you make a cake for Megumi's birthday, he hasn't lifted a single finger unless it was to eat all your ingredients. You had first realized his motives after you started cutting strawberries, confusion flickering over your face every time you looked at the bowl to find the amount of the juicy berries the same despite what felt like hours of cutting. It took Toji's snarky laughter behind you to connect the dots. Since then, he's been sticking his disgusting fingers into any edible ingredients you had laid out on the counter.

You swat his arm with the tea towel, eyes narrowed at the grown man.

"Can you stop eating your son's cake? We don't have enough eggs to make more batter if you eat it all." You scold, grabbing the bowl away from him and moving it to the counter nearest to you.

Toji rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as he leans his back against the counter's edge. "It's not like the brat'll eat the whole cake. He'll take like two bites of that shit and then ask for ice cream or whatever."

Your lips form a pout as you bend down to grab the circular cake pans from the bottom cabinet, purposely ignoring Toji's wolf whistle as he zeros in on your backside. "That's not the point!"

You sigh as you straighten up again, placing the pans on the counter and greasing them before grabbing the bowl, beginning to distribute the batter into the pans as evenly as possible. As if sensing the stress beginning to build within you, Toji comes over and wraps his arms around your waist.

"This is my first year celebrating Gumi's birthday," You whisper, swiping your finger over the batter-stained rim of the bowl. You hold your finger towards Toji, trying not to cringe when he licks the batter off. You can tell by his chuckle that you failed. "I just want him to know that I care."

Toji buries his head into the side of your neck, hiding the lovesick smile that starts to spread over his face. You're so cute. He presses a small kiss to the side of your throat, needing to let the growing affection in his chest out.

"Brat knows ya love 'im already. He'd love anything y'do for him."

The reassurance makes you relax slightly, grabbing the pans and gently hitting them on the counter to get rid of any air bubbles. Toji takes one from you as the oven beeps, signaling that it's finished preheating. You follow him to the oven, sliding your pan in first before taking the other from him and sliding it next to yours. You set the timer to the appropriate time, grabbing the tea towel and wiping away the small drops of batter clinging to your fingertips.

Toji wraps his arms around you again, placing a sticky kiss to your cheek. "Go rest mama, let me clean this shit up for you."

You melt into his arms, softly swaying your body in his hold as you close your eyes. You hum in agreement, slowly detangling yourself from his embrace. You turn and give him a fleeting kiss before stepping away completely, stifling a yawn with the back of your hand as you begin to exit the kitchen.

Toji watches with a small smile, the scar near his mouth distorting with the movement just slightly. Once you're out of sight, Toji turns to the fridge, bending down as he opens the door. His eyes scan the shelves before he finds his target, reaching in to grab it.

"Toji! You better not touch my whipped cream!"

Fuck, you know him too well.

Ryomen Sukuna

Next time, you'll plan a library date.

Maybe then you can show him a dictionary and the meaning of words such as fun and help won't be a mystery for him anymore. For a man who has lived for thousands of years, he sure is clueless to the most simple things.

"Ryo," You sigh, turning to him for what felt like the hundredth time. "Can you please at least pretend like you're helping me?"

Sukuna raises a brow at you from his place on the wooden chair he had dragged into the kitchen. He hasn't moved from his spot unless it was to avoid dirtying his robes like when you tripped holding a cup of milk. He didn't even attempt to help you, only giving you an amused look and not so kindly reminding you that you would be the one to clean it.

"I don't understand why you silly humans are so fond of such dirtying activities." He sighed. scrunching his nose at the mess of flour on the counter. "Why don't you just tell Uraume that you want something sweet? She'll have someone else make it for you."

"If I wanted someone to make me cupcakes," You begin to grumble, turning to him with a batter-dripping spatula, "I would have just went to a bakery."

"Excellent idea. Glad that was settled." Sukuna grunts, clapping his hands on his muscular thighs as he pushes himself off the seat. He makes a show of stretching, groaning when his back releases with a satisfying pop.

You roll your eyes at the curse, turning back to your half-stirred cupcake batter. "I'm not going to a bakery."

Sukuna lets out an annoyed groan, collapsing back into his chair which creaks in protest. One of his arms hangs off the back of the chair, and he rests his chin in his other hand.

"I don't know why I must be punished just because you would rather be difficult." Sukuna sighs, glaring at your back. You ignore him, instead asking him to hand you the cupcake pan next to him. He turns to it and gives it a deadpan stare, and you sigh after you realize he isn't reaching for it. You walk over, grabbing the pan.

"Is that what my company feels like? A punishment?" You ask, side stepping the arm he holds out to wrap around your waist. He scowls at your back as you walk away from him.

Sukuna leans back against the chair, sighing as he lolls his head to the side dramatically. "I said no such thing, woman. You're putting words in my mouth."

"You don't need to say it when you're acting like it is." You retort, beginning to line the tin with pink cupcake liners that you found at the store. They're a near-perfect color match to Sukuna's hair, hence why you bought them and are now making cupcakes.

You hear the chair creak behind you again before large arms wrap around your body. One of Sukuna's hands come up to cup your cheeks, squishing them together so your lips pucker. His brows are furrowed as he looks down at you and your nose scrunches when he dips his thumb into the batter and smears the cold concoction on your bottom lip.

"Stop hurting your own feelings with your delusions, brat." Sukuna sneers in his velvety deep voice. Before you can grumble a reply, he leans down and licks the batter off of you.

He hums in consideration as he pulls away, taking his time to analyze the flavor. His eyes are hooded as they meet yours again. "Sweet."

Your cheeks blaze under his hands, and you push him away. "Whatever."

Sukuna chuckles, grabbing the liners from your hand to distract you from his other hand. It comes up and smears batter on tip of your nose, and you gasp as he drops the last liner into the circular indent.

"There." He says, dropping the remaining liners onto the counter. "I lined the tin. You're welcome."

You let out an outraged scoff at him, glaring at him as he goes to sit down in his chair again. "You placed one liner! I did everything else!"

He shrugs, crossing his arms over his chest as he manspreads in his seat. "But I helped didn't I? You said to pretend to help, but I went above and beyond by actually helping. Don't be greedy."

Your mouth opens and closes like a fish before you clamp it shut. "You're so infuriating!"

"What?" Sukuna smirks, leaning forward as he rests his arms on his knees. "Now, you're making me feel like my presence is a punishment."

You throw him an annoyed look before turning away with a scoff, trying to distract yourself from the annoying man by filling the cupcake liners.

"I'm so poisoning your cupcake."

[aesthetic-bbyg]

hey, can i request a tom x puerto rican female reader? Kinda similar to the chola one but it's in new york instead of la🤭omgggg. It can be any era idm sjensjsj

AY, BENDITO ~ TOM K.

Tom Kaulitz x reader

In which a determined Tom won’t stop till you accept his offer to take you out.

Nattie speaks: Yayayaya!! Im excited to write this bc I literally love Puerto Ricans sm like y’all are real ones ong🙏. Keep the request coming in bc I def wanna start writing more on here!

YOU NEARLY GROANED AS you saw the boy approach, your friend, Daniela, giggled from beside you just watching in amusement. Nearly everyday, Tom Kaulitz managed to find you and ask you the same question.

“You free tonight?” His German accent so alluring yet you knew you couldn’t, and you wouldn’t. Yes, you will admit that Tom was a very attractive boy, you liked him a lot, but you also knew the type of person he was. It seemed as though every girl you talked to had at least one interaction with the Kaulitz boy that ended in sex. “Come on, just one date and it’ll be worth it.”

You glared, turning back to the line and waiting for your lime flavored piragua, choosing to ignore him. You weren’t sure why he decided that picking you as the main victim of his pestering was good idea but each day it annoyed you more. There we’re even some where you nearly gave in and excepted his offer but ultimately walked away before the words could leave your mouth. Was the piragua guy purposely taking long to shave the ice or was it just you? The mix between the heat of New York and Tom’s blabbing in your ear made the tone feel slow.

“Enough!” You snapped, turning to face the boy who was listing off reasons as to why taking you to Señor Guzman’s pizza place would be the perfect first date for the two of you. “I already told you that I’m not interested in going out with you.”

You could hear your friend snickering beside you, “Ay bendito.” She was just observing and sipping the cool cherry flavored syrup from her cup. (Poor boy)

Tom only smirked, adjusting his hat and backing away with his hands up in defense. “Okay, okay, I hear you, I will come back tomorrow.”

You sighed heavily as he walked away, “Don’t come back at all!” You yelled, but he didn’t turn around or do anything to acknowledge your words, based on his past actions you knew he would be back.

“Aquí está.” The tan man gave you the piragua in a small plastic cup, the shaved ice soaked in a lime-flavored syrup. Your demeanor immediately changed, a frustrated scowl turning into a soft grin with just one sip. You dig through your shorts, handing some bills before walking off. (Here you go)

“At this point, it’d be better to accept his date then reject it, Amiga.” Daniela spoke up, giving you a knowing look as she shoved some of the ice in her mouth, letting it melt on her tongue.

“No quiero, Dani, to give him the satisfaction of taking out another girl would be like hell to me.” You argued back, “He just doesn’t take a hint, and everyday he comes and bothers me about something.” (I don’t want to)

“If you really about it.” Daniela began making you roll your eyes. “I’m starting to think that he really likes you and isn’t just playing around to get in your pants.”

You turned to her with furrowed brows, “What do you mean, it Tom fucking Kaulitz, of course he’s gon’ something involving.”

“When’s the last time you heard of him hooking up with someone?” Daniela asked, watching a a you shrugged your shoulders. “Exactly, and don’t you think that it’s strange how Tom is constantly flirting with you, only you.”

“I think it’s very strange, and annoying, ya me tiene esta los cielos, Dani.” You huffed, stopping as you arrived in front of her apartment building. (he has me up to the sky)

“Just take a moment and think, he totally got a thing for you because he’s putting in actual effort, not just shooting out some lame pick up lines.” Your friend tossed her cup into a nearby garbage bin before climbing up the steps. “He likes you, and I know you like him.”

You processed her words as you made it back to your own home, the refreshing snack cleared up your mind from its previous annoyed state. It made you frustrated, how could it be that a player was suddenly wanting to get with you of all people. For as long as you could remember, Tom would always flirt with you, it gave you a string of hope before he ended up in another girls room that same day. If the reason why you became so cold, more brutal with your rejections then before.

Walking into the house, your auntie and mom were in the kitchen, they could already sense the annoyance radiating off you. “Nena, que tú tiene?” Your auntie questioned, raising her thinly drawn eyebrow at you. “And don’t bullshit me.” (Girl, what is wrong?)

“María!” Your mother scolded towards her sister, “Don’t be using those groserías in front of my daughter.” You walked into the kitchen, jumping onto the counter as you watched your mother cut up some chicken. (Bad words)

“You know Tom K, el aleman te la esquina?” You began, getting the attention of both of the woman. (The German from the corner)

“El que tiene un hermano emo?” You auntie asked, placing a hand on her hip. (the one that has an emo brother?)

“Titi.” You warned as she threw her hands up in defense, “Bueno, pues, he’s been asking me out for the past five months.”

Your mother let out a dramatic gasp, stopping her motions and looking at you, “Cinco meses? Y qué carajo todavía haces aquí?” (five months? And what the hell are you still doing here?)

You groaned, throwing your head back, “No salir con el, mama, he’s a player, I’ve been sayin’ no each time.” Your tía grinned, clapping your hands. (I don’t want to go out with him)

“Mira, no mas!” She squealed, shaking your shoulders proudly, “Mi nenita ya tiene todo los hombres a sus pies.” (Well, well, my little girl already had all the men at her feet)

“Ay, no titi, no quiero salir con el, qué pasa si no mas me trata como otra.” You frowned, feeling your mom place a comforting hand on your shoulder. (I don’t want to go out with him, what happens if he just treats my like any other?)

“If he does anything.” She threateningly raised the knife that she was chopping up vegetables with. “You just come to me.”

“Mhmm.” You tía hummed in agreement, “Just gimme that address and you won’t have to worry about it.” Her serious face was then replaced by a bright smile. “Pero, you should totally go out with him.” (But)

“Dani was sayin something about how he might be interested since he’s been trying to hard, and just earlier when I was getting Piragua from Señor Rodríguez he came up to me.” The two woman listened intently, “He asked me out again and I said no, and when he said he’ll come back tomorrow I said he should never.”

The woman in front of you winced, “Ay, bendito.” They said in unison, making your frown even deeper. Maybe you were too harsh. (Poor boy)

“But since he’s so adamant on me, saying yes then he probably does have some interest. Well, that’s what Dani thinks.”

“Mira, nena.” Your tía placed her tan hands on your shoulders, “Back in my day, yo traía todos los hombres, tu mama era una virgencita.” (Listen, girl. I had all the men, your mom was a virgen)

“Ey!” Your mother slapped your tias arm angrily, making your scrunch your face up. “I was just waiting to find the right hombre.” (Man)

“Pero esperaste unos mil años.” The woman turned back to you, “As I was sayin’, no matter how much a man tried to be all playa’ by sleeping around with women and shit, the thing that’s gonna touch his heart is when a woman cares. So the next time he comes up to you and ask you out, you say yes when you go on your first date, show him that you’re interested.” (But you waited some thousand years)

You sighed heavily, “I’m nervous.”

“Why? Because you’ve been crushing on him since you were a kid?” Your mother questioned, tossing all the ingredients she’d been cutting up into a boiling pot of water. You eyes widened, mouth opening to say something before shutting itself up. “No crees que no te visto, te gusta, and I know it.” (Don’t think I haven’t seen you, you like him)

You hop of the counter and head into your room, you pick up the small phone that was sitting on your bed, clicking in Daniela’s phone number. In just a few rings the girl picked up with her usual chirpy voice. “Wassup, Amiga?”

“Dani, I’m gonna say yes the next time Tom asks me out.” You spit out quickly, not wasting a second to pause in between words. It was nearly inaudible but Dani still registered every syllable instantly.

“No way!” She squealed, “No me chingas amiga!” (Don’t fuck with me, bestie!)

“I’m bein’ for real.” You smiled slightly at her excitement, fiddling with the gold necklace nervously. “The next time he comes up to me, I’ll say yes.”

“WHERE THE HELL IS HE?” You asked anxiously, eyes looking around to see if he’d magically pop up. The day had nearly reached an end, the sun beginning to lower itself into the horizon while you and Dani had walked around the area multiples times. By this time, Tom would’ve already walked up to you, gripping his baggy pants, a shit eating grin on his face, German-laced accent speaking the same words that you usually rejected, it almost became a routine.

But today you hadn’t seen him, it begun to make you nervous and ask the sun disappeared and the street lights flickered on, you sighed sadly. Never did you think you’d be so sad about not being pestered by Tom, in fact, you wished for a day like this. Now that you have it, you realize how boring the day has been, not hearing him or his corny pickup lines made it feel like a puzzle piece was missing.

“It’s okay.” Daniela rubbed a soothing hand up and down your back, “Maybe tomorrow, he could be busy with his band.”

“But he said he’d be back.” You frowned deeply, shoulders slumping, feet dragging on the pavement as you walked back home. You did the usual, dropped of Daniela first, her right hug lingering longer then usual before you walked the next few blocks to your own home. Just as you stepped on the steps that lead up to your front door a repetitive shuffle caught your attention.

“Hey, gorgeous.” Tom held flowers in one hand, the other one timidly waving at you. You’d never that you’d be so happy to see him, a smile would’ve taken over your features but you held back. Keeping a straight face as he held out the roses. “I got these..for you.”

Your eyes widened, taking the flowers and blushing. “Thank you, how’d you know these were my favorite?”

“You told me.” He smiled softly, it made your heart flutter and stomach twist into knots. “And, uh..I wanted to ask you, again, if you’d wanna go out with me?” He fiddled with the bands around his wrist, expecting the usual words of no and a slammed door in his face, but you have a warm smile instead.

“Yeah, I’m free on Friday.” You tried to hold the eye contact but his eyes practically hypnotized you, you stared down the roses, a shy smile on your lips. “I’m sorry for being mean on the past times.”

Tom chuckled, demeanor shifting from an laid back player to a timid lover boy who was stupidly excited that his crush finally said yes. “It’s okay gorgeous.”

An awkward beat of silence engulfed the air before you leaned forward, pecking his cheek and watching as the red blush creeped up onto his face. “I’ll see you Friday then.” You mumbled, hand gripping the door handle and pushing it open. You looked towards the boy one last time, “Bye Tom.”

“Bye, gorgeous.”

I hate using y/n if y’all couldn’t alr tell by the amount of pet-names I have in all my fics. 😭 I tried my best to capture the Puerto Rican culture but as someone who isn’t really familiar, I don’t really know if I did all that good. Apologies if there was some errors in some areas!! either way I enjoyed writing this fic and loved the idea!! Ik it got corny at the end but pls ignore that.

hehehe

[ns-imagines]

What they drive

141 Guys x domestic/everyday life

SFW | Word Count: 1.4k | Headcannons

**Long post with lots of pictures!

A/N: I dunno much about cars but I always wonder what the boys would be driving. See what they’re picking me up in for date night… this is just for fun and highlights the modern life they have outside of missions. Also the gif of Soap falling on the car took me out lmao. Not requested. -Kiv

John Price

A man who takes pride in his vehicles. He has two Chevy trucks. A nice truck for everyday use and a project truck. The perfect person to talk to if you are thinking of purchasing a car or truck. Price has got the “dealership scam” game down. You'll be leaving the lot with a good deal.

The project car being a 1985 Chevy C10. Price is always going on about how “this is every man's dream car to work on”. He says it everytime he opens the garage. Without fail! It's got a classic blue color with a few rust spots but, nothing a good layer of paint can't fix. Its the 90s car from the movies. Nothing else to say about it!

Ahh the project car. Price works on it when he can. Set up a lawn chair, get a glass of lemonade, and just watch that man work. Sometimes hell even explain to you what he’s doing. That is if you can even pay attention. There’s something so attractive about a man talking about what he’s passionate about all sweaty with a nice pump. HEY, wipe that drool off your face.

Price’s personal truck is nice. It gets him from point A to B. Everything on it is stock. He’ll always tell you hes gonna sell it once his project car has been fixed. But there’s still quite a lot to do on the project car. Its a 2012 Chevy Silverado in cherry black with a covered bed. Good on gas and can pull a trailer or boat! He doesn’t invest money in it for other than maintenance costs.

It smells specifically like “Lakeside Morning” from Bath and Body works car scents. The packaging is what got him. It was honestly super cute when he read the package out loud. “Smells like: Cool, Sweet, Fresh, and alone time on the dock” followed by a shrug and him throwing it into his cart. Does he even fish?

Oh, whenever he turns a corner in the Silverado theres a thud coming from the bed. Its a cooler that has been there FOREVER. He swears he’s going to take it out. Price brought it when 141 met for a cook out and some beers a few months ago.

-

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Don’t ask about the APR please. Kyle is going to use this bad girl till it breaks. Its his dream car. Price took him away from base to get a better rate for it! Its fast its speedy its a 2015 Ford Shelby GT350. Oh yeah racing stripes and all. He got it wrapped in a matte ocean blue. Im talking leather seats, tinted windows, and custom wheel.

Kyle loves this car and will always offer to pick you up. Ur always going to be passenger princess. Kyle always drives up reallll slow, rev the engine a little, and rolls down the window to smile big at you. He gets the door for you when you are both approaching the car. Don’t test him. He will literally sprint to get the door for you. An actual cutiepie

Hes so damn cute when it comes to long drives. Hand on your thigh and singing to the music together. Expect spontaneous trips!! He doesn’t even know where you guys are headed today.

Loves to speed up when there no cars in front of him. That feeling of the car pushing into you the sear is his favorite. Kyle is definitely the type to lightly bang on the steering wheel and go “Wooooooo” when returning to the normal speed limit. Hehe. Hope it didn’t freak you out too much. You will without a doubt get a few reassuring thigh squeezes.

Classic Black Ice scent. Cant go wrong with it! Its his car’s signature sent if you ask him. Kyle keeps his car clean. Theres a few half empty water bottles in the back but never straight up trash. He makes sure to buy the premium wipes for the interior. Like I said that car is his baby. Ugh did i mention the sound system?! Its absolutely amazing. You can feel the bass in your bones. Literally sounds like you’re in an air pod pro.

-

John “Soap” Mactavish

His car is the hangout car. Like if were going out with boys were taking Soaps car. He drives a pearl colored 2020 Honda Accord. He ordered the under the seat lights and everything. Its actually a vibe in there. The music changes the lights or he has an app on his phone to change the color. Another amazing sound system tbh.

Similar to Gaz the glovebox in the car is yours. He even puts stuff in there for you as a surprise :,). Sweet baby Johnny. Like one time you got in the car like usual and opened the glovebox to grab chapstick or some perfume/cologne and sitting on the car instruction manual was a bag/box of ur favorite snack. When you looked back over, Johnny was looking back at you with a big derpy smile.

Since his car is the hangout car it can get messy pretty easily. He has to do “trash runs” to empty the random things people leave in his car. Dont get it wrong, It isnt nasty with random food left behind!! Soap has tried those like little trash cans on Amazon but they always end up lost under the back seats.

Johnny always goes with New Car Smell. He doesn’t have a specific brand he likes he just gets whatever’s at the gas station at the time. He also has the bad habit of never locking his car. Soap swears he always forgets to but you think its just a habit at this point.

CEO of spontaneous trips. You would never believe how much camping stuff his car can hold. Soap will give him car encouraging words as it struggles to go up the hills to the hike or camping site. He always keeps an emergency box under the passenger seat. Its shaped like tackle box. It has a first aid kit, some portable batteries with chargers, flares, and an emergency flash light. Last time you both went camping he was so excited to show you the random hatchet he bought. He keeps it in the trunk for no reason. I mean, he cant have it in the barracks so you suppose it makes sense.

-

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Simon currently owns two bikes. Hes in the process of selling his old one. Which is a chameleon purple painted 2006 Suzuki GSXR600 with 750 cc. It gave him a good year and half off rides. He took care of it and rode it to its top speeds. It has a scuff on the side from when he tried to do a wheelie but, he was going to slow and had to jump off before it fell to its side. Your heart sunk when it happened. Ghost was super embarrassed because he thought he had it down. He’ll never tell you though.

After a long deployment where he was getting quite a big of hazard pay (extra pay when you’re in a dangerous location) he saved it all up. As soon as he got back he bought a black 2021 Honda Rebel 1100 DCT. This bike is fast but it’s more for cursing. Trust that he’ll ride it to its max speed at least once for the adrenaline rush.

Bought you a matching jacket. He wont say anything about it being matching but you noticed almost after putting it on. Best part about riding is when you get to wrap your arms around his waist. Simon always makes sure to take it slow especially if you get nervous on bikes. Don’t even try to do your hair. He wont move the bike unless you have the right gear on. Ghost doesn’t wanna lose you from an accident.

You are probably wondering what he does when it rains… or maybe you already knew he chooses to ride anyway. I promise though that after a ride in the rain he will slightly complain about how wet the road was. It makes you worry because so much could happen with one slip. Simon will always reassure you that he’s an experienced rider. If you pick him up in your car he won’t be upset. Definitely wont say no to a free and dry ride!

[megangovier]

Ice-cream date

older!Joel x waitress! fem reader

Summary: Joel messages you if you want to go for a ice cream date, you accept.

Warnings: Fluff, compliments, age gap 25,35, mdni

Joel and you have texted and called eachother over the last couple of months, you knew he had a daughter called Sarah and was raising Ellie as one of his own, they were excited for their dad to get back out there in the dating game. "I bet she's pretty dad" or "She's going to like you". Nerves were kicking in, he hasn't been on a date since his late wife but an accident happened and she is no longer with them. He missed her every day, the way she smiled at him when she entered the room or the smell of her hair. It's going to be hard, this won't be a replacement but someone to talk to, maybe if something does grow between them, he'll go for it.

You were going to meet Joel today, nerves are kicking in. You've never met anyone from a dating app before so it's kind of nerve wracking. Could be dangerous, but it's a risk you've got to take. You were excited though, from his pictures he sent you he's attractive, got those gorgeous brown eyes and a beard you've always found attractive on men. Joel's meeting you at 14:00 so you've got an hour to kill, so you decided to take a shower, put on some leggings, hoodie and white trainers. Locked up your front door and went to the ice cream shop.

Joel was wearing tight fitted jeans, flannel shirt and cowboy boots. It's winter so you both wore suitable clothes for that season, Joel came up and bear hugged you. A warm smile washed over your face "nice to finally meet you Joel" a red glow appeared on his face "likewise ma'am, let's go inside and see what delicious ice creams they have". Opening the door for you, you courtesy "thank you Joel" closing the door behind him, his eyes scanned the ice cream flavors. There was bubblegum, cherry, pistachio, double chocolate fudge brownie, coffee, cone ice cream too. You decided to pick Pistachio and coffee. "Hi, could I get a waffle cone please, with 2 scoops of pistachio and 1 coffee please" a smile fell onto his face, "of course you can my dear, what can I get you sir". Looking Joel said, "could I get waffle cone with 2 scoops of double chocolate fudge brownie please".

"No problem, sir here you go ma'am, enjoy" indulging in your ice cream, Joel paid for both your ice creams and told the man to keep the change "bless you sir, come back soon" a giggle left your lips "will do sir" arm im arm, Joel looked at you admiring how beautifully breathtaking you looked, the dimples in the cheeks, the scar above the eyebrow just beautiful "so, how long have you been waitressing for?" Looking at him in awe "since I was 18, so 8 years". Joel was so interested in your life and what you got up to, he was a great listener and comforted you when you were at your lowest.

Joel also knew about your father troubles, how he wasn't in your life or tried to slip in like an slippery eel. The way Joel acted towards you was like a protective father figure, who took you out to get ice cream. But he was a man you met on tinder, he's spoken to you about the lost of his wife and the accident which made you comfort him and gave him a reinsuring hug. As time went by Joel offered you back to his place, you accepted.

Once Joel opened up the door, two young girls attacked him with hugs. "Hi girls, good to see you too, we've got a visitor." Smiles erupted on their faces hands out to shake yours "I heard a lot about you, you must be Sarah and you must be Ellie, what pretty names" a giggle slipped from their mouths "and you must be daddy's new girlfriend" a grin fell on Joel's face. It didn't feel right to be there, Joel only lost his wife a few months ago. It was still to early, but I guess people deal with it in different ways.

"So girls, what have you done today?" Smiling at Joel with doe eyes Sarah said "Me and Ellie been playing at the park with uncle Tommy, drawing and sleeping, hows your day gone dad?" Looking at you, it's been awesome! We went to an ice cream shop, walked through the park, talked and looked in libraries, came back home again"

Sorry if it isn't that good✨

@strang3lov3 @sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts

[stoptakingthegoodname5]

/ As for my liking for Animal Crossing, I’m putting my favs drivers and who I think what Animal Crossing bug/fish they remind me of

(⚠️ THIS IS NO HATE THIS IS ALL FOR SHITS AND GIGGLES ⚠️)

First off we have Lance Stroll, honestly this dude reminds me of a Robust Cicada 😭

/ I don’t know why man, this dude just looks derpy enough to be a cicada. And well cicadas do annoy people and sadly Lance annoys many 😭

Next is Max Verstappen, I’m sorry but he’s a Catfish no questions asked

/ The eyes the dead fish expression when he’s shocked, and the lips. Catfish on the ice box in a fish market coded.

Third Oscar Piastri, he’s just a Moth

/ He’s not giving much on the table and that’s ok! Just the plain chill vibes he has truly Kimi Räikkönen’s son.

Finally Logan Sargeant, he’s a Cherry Salmon

/ Like Max, dead expressing but with less lips. And maybe I’m reaching here but the soft tan highlights on the fish remind me of his hair. But yeah he is totally hanging with Max in that ice box at the fish market

/ That’s it, Ik it’s a shitpost and what not but I had fun doing it 😭 (I wanna hear y’all’s opinions 🤷🏻‍♂️ and if you guys want this as a series I’ll be glad to do more)

(IM A FAN OF ALL OF THEM ON THIS LIST I SWEARRR)

[herslvtspeaks]

Random Headcannons for the Uconn girls 🤭 can you tell im bored? Anyway these are nothing but jokes and i can't explain how i came to any of these conclusions

Most likely will be continued

-----------

Ice Brady can't cook (I don't make the rules) I feel like she's like my brother who cooks penutbutter jelly sandwiches in the waffle maker

Azzi has a Bratz collection i feel it in my soul, all pretty girls liked Bratz at some point (and if not Bratz its a doll of some sort)

Nika probably sleep walked at some point in her life (this is quite insane to say please don't ask how I came to this conclusion)

Paige hates bananas (I quite literally do not know if this is true but she just looks like she does)

Kk used to jump off of high places and pretended she was flying when she was younger but stopped when she busted her ass (kk just gives me badass kid energy idk 😭)

Paiges favorite pop tarts are blueberry and cherry (this is despicable and i quite literally hate both of those flavors but paige would do something diabolical like eat those pop tarts so 🤨)

Amari has watched Hamilton more times than she'd admit (this i feel like is true irl tbh)

Ayanna eats weird food combos like sugar and spaghetti and tries to convince the rest of the team it's good (Nobody buys that shit) Jana isn't safe i feel like she does the same thing AUBREY TOO

Nika has a list of all the many ways she'd cover up a murder 🤷🏾‍♀️

Qadence was a biter when she was younger ‼️ i don't make the rules man

[giggly-squiggily]

DUCKY IS SENDING A SK8 THE INFINITY ASK-

I WANTED TO WAIT UNTIL YOU FILLED A COUPLE REQ SO I DIDNT BOMBARD YOU DNKFNDJSBDJ

I would like to order one matchablossom comforting their son Miya ❤️

I am request one Miss you and Puppy Love. GIVE MY SON THE PARENTAL LOVE HE DESERVES!!!!

TY SQUIGGILY IM SO EXCITED FLR THIS EVENT 🛐🛐

DUCKY KJLERJKEKJRJEKRR LETS GOOO! :D It's been far too long since I've written Sk8- and for Machablossom and Miya no less! This was kinda light on tickles but full of parental love for Miya so I think I did them good? I hope you like it!

Miss you: "When's the last time you smiled?" + Darling: "Where are those giggles I love so much?"

“There we are.” Joe placed a plate of freshly made pasta before Miya, ruffling his hair as he did so. “My speciality; Joe Mama Spagetti!”

“When did you start calling it that?” Cherry looked at him with a raised brow.

“When my arms started getting heavy.” Joe winked, laughing at his joke. Cherry smiled, shaking his head. They waited, but nothing came from the smaller boy.

“Hey, what’s going on, kiddo? When’s the last time you smiled? Also- where are those giggles I love so much?” Joe mock pouted, leaning into his fisted hands and scrunching his eyes in hopes that would work. Still, Miya didn’t make a sound. “Uh oh- you’re really upset, huh?”

That got a small shrug, but it was better than nothing.

“Are you still upset about your new trick not working?” Cherry cut right to the heart of the matter, but his voice was gentle. Seeing Miya stiffen, he and Joe shared a look. “Miya..”

“I was so close!” The child exclaimed, a touch of a whine in his voice as he glared down at the pasta. “I almost had it- but then it failed again! Just like the first few times.” His voice wavered at the end, mouth forming into a shaky frown as he scrubbed at his eyes. “I suck…”

“No, no you don’t.” Cherry reached out, gently taking Miya’s chin in hand as he wiped away the tears starting to fall. “This is just a trick that takes more time. We all have ones we can’t get right away. The gorilla over there couldn’t accelerate for a good few months when he started skating.”

“Oh as if you’re one to talk, precious! Who kept falling off his board like it was made of ice for six months?” Joe retorted back with a huff. He was about to say something else when he saw Miya start to smile. “Oh, so that made you feel better- our bickering!”

“Pfft- it’s just hard to imagine you two failing so hard at basic things. It’s funny.” Miya giggled, squeaking in surprise when Cherry pressed into his ribs. “Ah! I thahahke it bahahhahck, I tahhahahek it bahahahhahck!”

“You better. Just because we weren’t good at first doesn’t mean we aren’t great now.” The pink haired man smiled as Miya squealed, releasing him with one last prod. “And that will be you too. Give it more time and practice and you’ll have the trick down with ease. If you want- I’ll help you.”

“Rheheally?” Miya perked up; making the two men laugh.

“Of course he will. So will I. But first- you’re gonna eat that pasta. And then you’re gonna laugh at all my jokes; I’ve got tons of them!” Joe grinned, earning a mock eyeroll from the pair.

“Best get a to-go container; I’ll lose our appetite.” Miya grinned as Joe clutched his pearls, Cherry bursting into laughter at the zinger. Before he could retaliate, Miya grabbed a forkful of pasta, shoving it in his mouth with a happy sound. “Thanks, Joe. Cherry.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” Joe tsked with a grin. “And you're welcome, kid.”

Send me a candy heart and I'll write a dabble for it!

[i23kazu]

GENSHIN MEN & TAKING YOU OUT ON A CAFE DATE .

characters. xiao zhongli kaeya diluc childe x reader genre. romantic fluff!! an. i am losing my mind. is it obvious (part 4379544!) | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

xiao

gets the tab before you can. lets you take all the instagrammable photos before eating, but he had a weird grimace on his face almost as if he's pouting but trying not to. let the man eat his pastry in peace ^^;

zhongli

doesn't even pay for the outing himself... you see him take out a pouch labelled childe. is that even his money??? this "childe" is loaded, so zhongli tells you to get whatever you want. you get an iced matcha

kaeya

spends his allowance from the knights' on you hehe. he takes you out and lets you pick all the drinks and food bc he knows that you have the best taste. also brings you to a photobooth studio because hash-tag for the memoirs

diluc

buys the cafe for you. now he can take you there anytime you want and you're also a vip. you get free drinks and food and stuff heehee. #fathermaterial #manisloaded #sugardaddy #youlovehimnotjustforhismoneybutyouconfirmthathedoeshavemoney

childe

another one who would spend the tsaritsa's money on you ( aka. buys the cafe chain ) tsaritsa is Not Happy but he does what he can to appease her + works overtime so he can get it for you <333 also he makes the cafe have a drink and pastry named after you

taglist. @zuyoo @starz222 @ilyuu @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @dxstopiaa @mccnstruck @xiaosonlybeloved @trqvcii @slvdsjjk @liminalimmortal @vennnnn-diagram @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @ganyusbrideee @abyssalsprince @favonius-captain @snobwaffles @sn1perz @milkwithspiceyicecubes @softcosmixs @nnasv @chichikoi @aimynx @xiaxilia open! send an ask to be added.

[monin1ca]

Hello, hope you’re well. Could you please write a Chamber imagine where the reader (female or general, idc) says ily for the 1st time? And the reader doesn’t know for sure if Chamber loves them back but he happily & passionately says iyi back. Nothing nsfw, thanks!

Word count:495 

Warnings: nothing~~ just pure fluff

Sypnosis:

“Vincent.”

“Hm?”

You breathed in softly, shutting your eyelids closed;

“I love you.”

The hushed ‘swoosh’ of the wind sent shivers down your spine, even though a thick duvet covered your body; head-to-toe. In front of you, a beautifully carved mantel with elegant clocks softly ticking alongside the occasional crackling of the fireplace, the dancing flame bringing heat into your shared home with Vincent.  ‘The morning would show the beauty of the ice for sure,’ You thought, allowing your brain to be empty, content to exist and be. Your head whipped in the direction of the soft crunches of the snow; you smiled. ‘It must be Vin.’ 

The soft bell rang, signaling Vincent had entered the home. Muffled shuffling of feet and thumps were heard as he made his way to you. “Ah, Mon Cheri. How I’ve missed you….” Your boyfriend hummed, his cherry-tinted fingers skimming your skin, then placing a small peck on your forehead. “Just where have you been, Vincent?”  You playfully pouted; the marksman kneeled at the side of your makeshift fort; “Me? Haha! I was out getting you the most delectable Hot Chocolate of your life!” Vincent proudly presented it; the cup smelled heavenly. Mumbling a soft ‘thank you,’ you carefully took the hot cup and, taking a few sips of the drink, you squealed, delighted. “It’s lovely, Vin!” “See? I know your tastes, mon ange.” 

Your lover hunched down to the level of the fireplace, feeding the fire more logs. The fire roared as it continued to grow and consume the wood. Dusting off his hands, he placed himself beside you, smushing your small fort of pillows and blankets. “Vin!” You whined, softly punching him as he mumbled, “What now?” “You ruined my fort.” “Ah, but aren’t I a great addition? I’m your knight and shining armor, am I not?” You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, c’mere big boy~.” Your arms and legs tangled together as you basked in each other's warmth and love. Vincent’s hair was ruffled, as was his coat. Though he didn’t seem to mind as much, he was half-asleep. While you were taking in his beauty, every perfection and imperfection reminded you how much you love this man.

“Vincent.”

“Hm?”

You breathed in softly, shutting your eyelids closed;

“I love you.”

The silence was almost deafening, but you couldn’t force him to say it back. It was heavy words that not everyone could say to another person. Nevertheless, you wanted him to know how you felt.

“Amour, open your eyes.”

Obeying, you slowly opened one eye and saw Vincent smiling and blushing. Not from the cold but from your words.

“I love you too. I love you to the moon and back.”

You beamed happily, snuggling closer to your man. 

Author’s note: HII I’M BACK FROM MIDTERMS! I THINK THIS WILL BE MY WARM-UP WRITING SINCE IM A BIT RUSTY BUTT DO FEEL FREE TO SEND IN REQUESTS!